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dinner-djarin · 4 years ago

Text

dar'manda (Mando x f!reader)

Chapter 2: A Valuable Friend

Summary: After surviving the Empires attack on Nevarro, you reluctantly go back to your monotonous life. But when the Mandalorian returns, you find yourself in a new position you never would have expected: his friend.

Warnings: Me making shit up about Mandalorian culture whoops, alcohol consumption & getting sick (reader gets drunk), some self-deprecation on the part of the reader, vague talks about having children, mature language (real life and starwars),

Word Count: ~6.5k

Notes: (more at the end for important note on one line in the fic)

Previous - Next

No. NO?!

How and why would you -

Did you really -

You really kriffed up that one.

Not only was that the single most embarrassing moment of your life, but you also just blew your first real chance at escaping this prison sentence of a planet.

Ever since you arrived on Nevarro you’ve wanted to leave. It was something of an accident, ever ending up here in the first place.

After the death of your mother, you were effectively an orphan, although old enough to care for yourself. In fact, you had already been caring for yourself and your sickly mother ever since your older sister left to fight in the rebellion. You always admired her bravery, her passion to do good in a galaxy that had treated her so poorly. You only wished you had half of her sense of purpose. So, when your mother finally passed, you decided you needed a change. You needed to find your purpose. You had nothing and no one to hold you back, so why not search for it in every remote corner of the newly liberated galaxy?

After gathering your dwindling stash of credits, you caught a ride to every backwater skughole you could find, just for a change of scenery. Along the way you learned that being a young – relatively attractive – humanoid had its fair share of advantages. It wasn’t long until you picked up certain…skill sets…to help you survive. But you didn’t get very far. You somehow ended up on Nevarro with little to no credits remaining. Meaning you were stuck in the same position you had been desperate to leave behind in the first place – broke and alone. You figured you could pick up a job to save up, but it barely paid enough to get by. You were stranded.

But suddenly the perfect opportunity to get away from it all had landed in your lap. In a moment you were granted the perfect opportunity to flee this hell hole and never look back. But in that same moment your incredible ability to self-sabotage just couldn’t be contained.

You had no kriffing clue why he would ask you – someone he barely knew – to join him on his new adventure, but nevertheless he did. Had you really proven yourself that trustworthy, or was he just able to see that you were evidently no threat to him? But why even ask you in the first place? How could he know of your deep desires to traverse the galaxy?

You were baffled. So much so that in that overwhelming moment your confused consciousness decided to betray you. What in the outer rim could possess you to say no. To travel the galaxy with a Mandalorian, The Mandalorian that you couldn’t get out of your head.

He said join him. But now you realize he probably just meant like for a little while, until their next stop. Right? But your flustered idiotic brain had to go and overthink it. In your panicked state you started to imagine what it would be like to travel with the Mandalorian and his child. To see the galaxy, as you always dreamed, at the side of a man who could protect you from anything. There would be no safer companion, but maybe that's just it. You’d been crushing on him so hard that being stuck in confined quarters with him might not be the best scenario. There’s no way you could force yourself to act normal for that long. And that must have been the thought racing through your head at light speed when you choked out the words you may now live to regret.

A week later you decide its probably time to get over him. Your crush over Mando has only caused you pain and put you in unbearably uncomfortable situations. You’d be much better off forgetting about him and moving on with your life. Besides, you don’t even really know him. You’ve probably spent a collective hour or so with him, maybe a bit longer if you add up all of the small conversations you held whenever he bought supplies from you.

It’s not even a real crush, just some lustful wishing. Do you secretly wish he’d take you out behind the cantina and fuck you into the next millennia? Yes. Would you let him do absolutely anything he wanted to you... probably? But is that very realistic? What is all of that really based on anyway? A suit of armour. His hypermasculine gait. The intensity behind his unflinching helmet. Nothing really about him. You don’t know his name, or his age. What he even looks like, but you bet it wouldn’t matter. No-

You need to stop those thoughts if you’re ever going to get past this. You. Do not. Know him. Therefore, there is no logical reason you should have any emotions invested in him. And that’s that. The plain and simple truth. It just doesn’t make any sense. So, you need to stop. Take control of your horny ass brain and stop thinking about him.

And just then – as if the Maker himself planned it – the Mandalorian walked by your booth. The sight of his broad shoulders almost erases all thoughts of letting go of your feelings. But just then you notice something. Something in the way he’s moving through the bazaar. It strikes you as odd, almost as if he were stalking prey. He’s hunting, you think. He scans over the area, but a little too erratically for someone of his status. You thought he’d be more elegant, sticking to the shadows until the right moment. Invisible. Deadly. However, here he is frantic. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was afraid.

You don't know how one of the most frightening beings in the galaxy can become a beacon of panic and worry, but there he was. Suddenly, he spots you and makes his way over in several large strides, making quick work to shorten the previously large gap between you.

“Have you seen him?” he barks forcefully.

“Who?” you ask, immediately catching the worriy in his tone.

“The child, my-”

“You lost your kid?!” Your worst suspicions confirmed before he even finishes his sentence.

“I didn’t - I thought he’d be safer with me than on the ship. I looked away for one second-” and then you hear it. His fear finally pried its way into his voice and cracked it. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he may be on the verge of tears.

“Hey it’s okay,” you place a hand just below his pauldron, grabbing his warm, thick bicep. If the situation had been different you might have let yourself think about the fact that only a slip of fabric separated you from him. That only millimetres below was a man of flesh and blood, not of cold hard metal. “I’ll help you find him,” his tension melting away slightly at your words and your touch, so you continue. “You take this side of the market and I'll look over there,” you insist, hoping that giving him some sort of tactical plan might spring him back into bounty hunter mode and away from panicked Dad.

“Thank you,” he stops, and stares at you. “I’m sorry I never asked…”

But you finish his thought, and finally tell him your name. You can’t believe after all that has happened, all the times he came to your vendor, your dumb ass never told him your name. But he nods and returns quickly to his search for the kid.

You turn on the spot and sweep the area with your gaze. In that moment you think back to when you were small. You loved to hide. You were amazing at it. So good, that your father once looked for you for over an hour and the only way to lure you out was with the promise of your favourite Alderaanian sweets. You use that memory and thought where you might have hidden. The market is buzzing and booming, much livelier now that the Imps were gone, and amongst all the chaos it would be natural for a child to feed off the wild energy. You begin peering under other merchant tables, behind walls and crates, when you stumble across a vase. Oddly out of place, but the perfect size for a little green monster to hide. You lean closer and hear a distinct coo as you tilt the lid back. Those giant black orbs staring back at you fill you with relief. You scoop up the child as you wonder how the hell he would have even got in there in the first place, never mind how he then placed the lid back on top.

You move quickly to find his flustered father, hoping to give him that same sense of relief you just experienced. When you do find him, he meets your gaze and moves quickly towards you. So quick it's unbelievable. One minute he was across the bazaar, the next he was scooping the baby up from your arms.

“Don’t ever do that again kid. You had me worried sick.” the child’s mischievous grin suddenly disappeared at this scolding and he became quiet in his father’s arms. “I better let Cara and Karga know. I was with them when he went missing and they also went looking for him.”

“Tell them to meet us in the cantina, I think you could use a drink… or at least a minute to unwind,” you silently curse yourself for being such an idiot. Offering a Mandalorian a drink might be the most oblivious and inconsiderate gesture you could make. In your shameful silence you watch Mando place the child in a floating orb. You recognize it as the same one that trailed him into town on the day everything went down.

“Don't you have to go back to work?” Mando questions, kindly skipping over your foolish comment.

“It was a slow day, and the sun is almost down, which means I’m almost off anyway. I don’t think my boss will miss me. But I mean, if you prefer to be alone I-”

“No, please come” He interrupts. “Without you I may have lost him for good.”

“I seriously doubt that Mando. I don’t know if you know this, but you are a bounty hunter.”

And then he chuckles. Like an actual laugh. Quick, quiet, and modulated, but still there. You think about memorizing the gorgeous sound, which also makes you wonder how often that happens. When was the last time he actually laughed? And what it would take to make him truly laugh? Loudly and unabashedly. You wonder what circumstance would allow him to fully let his walls down around you. How you would fall apart at the sound of his full tenor. Finally, you make a mental note to scold yourself later for these thoughts.

As the three of you make your way to the cantina you decidedly lag one step behind the Mandalorian, walking right next to the floating orb that contains the child, just to make sure the kid doesn’t pull anything before you can get there. You’re shocked at how Mando can be so trusting of this little menace so soon, letting the orb follow him without keeping an eye directly on the kid. It’s starting to make more sense how he might have gotten lost in the first place.

When you finally reach the cantina Cara and Karga are already set down at a table with possibly the largest bottle of spotchka you’ve ever seen sitting centre of the table. You take the seat next to Cara, while Mando places himself directly across from you, next to Karga.

“So, we have you to thank for the capture of this bounty huh?” Karga somewhat insensitively jests as he glances over to the child. In fact, you think you see Mando stiffen at these words. The last time you were all together was in service of protecting the child from the people who put a bounty on him in the first place.

“She’s truly a wonder.” Cara says in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I mean how’d you find the little bugger?”

“Truthfully? It sounds kind of odd, but I put myself in his position. I just thought about what I would have done when I was a child” You answer back to her, a little embarrassed at your confession. “I remembered how I liked to hide when I was that age. I figured he’d probably be wanting to have some fun. Of course, he couldn’t know that hiding in the middle of a crowd was only fun for him.” You continue as you look down into your hands, slightly lost in your thought, “Kids are often like that, giving us grief for their own enjoyment. But it really is a wonder. They seem to have an ability to find joy in the most desolate of places. They still see magic in the galaxy; they still believe in the impossible.” A subtle comfort fills your chest, and you smile as you remember your time spent with children back on your home planet. Time spent with your younger brother. You glance up at the child in his crib, “They have natural curiosity for the world around them. An endless hope for what the galaxy could be.” When you finish you look back to the group at the table, only to see the shared glances of amusement between Cara and Karga at your naïve outlook. You felt a little embarrassed at their reaction, but it didn’t last.

A droid disrupts the uncomfortable silence by approaching your table with 2 extra glasses, obviously unaware of the fact Mando would not be joining in the drinking. Good to know your common sense was on the level of a bartender droid.

You however were unsure of what to do. It wasn’t that you were necessarily opposed to the beverage now being offered to you by Karga, but this didn’t seem like the right time to indulge. You had probably already embarrassed yourself enough in front of this particular group for one night. So, when the child began to stir in his crib you took it as an opportunity to forgo the beverage and focus on him. With your arms reached out towards the child, you suddenly think to get the consent of his guardian. You look up at the Mandalorian and smile when you receive a silent nod from him. After grabbing the child and setting him in your lap, you hope that you had successfully removed yourself from the attention of the others.

“You like kids then?” Cara pries at your thoughts, trying to continue your previous chain of conversation.

“Well, I haven’t really been around them in a while, not since being home. There were always so many children in my village, and they were always so filled with wonder. It made me see the world a little brighter.” You finish, hoping the conversation ends there.

“Ever think you’ll have your own?” She continues, obviously seeing the gleam in your eye as you speak.

You laugh at this question but honestly you hadn’t really thought of it. You’ve never been able to picture a future like that. Husband. Kids. Home. It had been too long since you had any feeling of security to hope for that type of life. You'd pretty much spent more of your life alone than with your family, to the point where you don't even know what it’s really supposed to look like.

When you don’t give her an answer past laughter, Cara switches her attention to the Mandalorian, “How ‘bout you Mando, ever thought you’d end up with a kid of your own?” and you turn back to the baby, hoping that you had finally left the center of the conversation.

It seems to work as you overhear the members of your table switch their topic to the criminals that still plague Nevarro, and the recent advances ‘Marshall Dune’ has made in her efforts to clean the town.

Tuning them out, you begin to play with the child, making faces and babbling along to his adorable coos. The child becomes fascinated by the idea of hiding your face behind your hands, only to suddenly reappear seconds later, and he tries to pry your hands away every time. After popping your face out for the tenth time the child begins to reach for your face again, but this time grabbing your nose, and you can’t help but giggle at his precious three-fingered grip. However, when his tiny hand slips to your cheek, a sudden wave of emotions rips over you, and you feel overwhelmed by a grief you haven’t felt in years. Your eyes tear up, and you remember flashes of a memory you’ve worked hard to repress. Standing in a dark closet huddling tight to your brother and sister. Then, the loudest sound you’ve ever heard fills your ears and-

“Kid!” Mando bellows and removes the child from your grip. You turn away from the table and look up at the Mandalorian, cheeks drenched by your tears and barely able to breathe. He sets the child in his pram, and crouches in front of you. “Hey, it’s okay just breathe, slowly, breathe. You’re okay, you’re safe,” he reminds you, holding your knees. It takes a few moments for you to catch your breath, but in those moments, you stare through the visor, past your own reflection, and focus on the eyes that you knew were staring back at you.

“What… was that” You finally manage to choke out.

“The kid, he must have done something to you. He’s got these powers-”

“He made me remember?” You blurt in disbelief.

“Umm, I’m not sure. Maybe. The people he belongs to, the Jedi, they are sorcerers.”

“So, whatever he just did to me… that’s what that woman, the other Mandalorian, was talking about?” You ask.

“Yes, whatever he just did, and more,” Mando adds

“More than that?”

“So far, a lot more.”

You finally snap back to reality, remembering that there are other people present, so you turn to give them a reassuring nod.

“How ‘bout that drink?” Karga asks in an attempt to lighten the mood, and you shoot back the beverage quickly, attempting to wipe the resurfaced memory from existence.

After the first round of spotchka had been downed, Cara and Karga made their way to the bar for more drinks, leaving you and the Mandalorian alone.

“So… you’re stuck with him, huh?” you ask, feeling quite light-headed from the drinks, any filter you previously possessed had now dissipated.

“Well, I wouldn’t say stuck,” Mando states sitting up straight.

“You don’t think you bit off a little more than you can chew? He seems like quite the handful.”

“He’s a good kid.” Mando snaps shortly, making you finally realize he has become defensive from your words.

“Oh. No, I just meant, kids are already a lot of work, I can’t imagine the magic powers make it any easier,” you joke, trying to diffuse your mistake with a small chuckle.

“No, I can’t say they do. Although without him or his powers I’d be dead.” Mando says blankly, as if his words were common knowledge to you.

“Wait, what?” You ask in shock, wondering if in your current state you forgot about some lifesaving event that took place previously.

“Yah, so would Karga.” He glances over at the pair at the bar, and you follow with your eyes. “Saved me from a mudhorn the first day we met. Healed the poison in Karga’s arm when he was attacked by a reptavian.”

“Wow,” you say quietly to yourself, “Look at you go kid. You’re pretty dang special.” You say towards the child, sticking your tongue out and successfully getting the kid to giggle at you.

“Yah he is.” The Mandalorian says quietly, almost a whisper to himself, and with a lightness that makes it sound like he might be smiling.

“So, will you raise him to be Mandalorian as well?” You wonder aloud, taking a swig from your drink, as if you needed to increase your level of inebriation.

“Not necessarily. Although I’ve adopted him as my founding, he belongs with the sorcerer group called the Jedi. My goal is to reunite him with them, but until then, technically yes.”

“Does that mean anyone can be Mandalorian, if they get adopted by one?”

“Yes. But they may not need to be adopted. If someone was old enough, they could simply train under another Mandalorian, and then swear an oath to the Creed once that training is done.” And although you want to know more about how he grew up, some grain of restraint is planted in your brain, thankfully stopping you from prying into his private life. Instead, your interest in the Creed is piqued, and you decide to follow that train of thought instead.

“And is that a difficult process then? I mean, not just anyone would be able to pass it, right?” And even though warning signs were flashing in your brain, telling you not to risk disrespecting the secrecy of the Creed, the Mandalorian responds. He continues to tell you intimate details of his training process, specifically towards the fighting corps, including how his adoptive siblings and he were forced to spar with each other, often walking away with several harsh wounds. He tells you about how he studied the language as much as he could, as it was rarely used, but still sacred among his people. How he had an affinity for languages, and how he specifically enjoyed the simplicity and poetic nature of Mando’a. He tells you of grueling trials, times where he thought he wasn’t going to make it. But he also explains how his low moments lead him to find the strength to persevere.

The whole time he spoke, you stared at him with glimmering eyes. You hung onto every word. Even through the modulator you could hear the care and restrained excitement in his voice,. You could tell just how important this culture was to him, how he cared deeply for the history and sanctity of his people and Creed. And as he spoke with such tenderness, you felt yourself become entranced with his words. As he detailed the responsibilities and dedication to his covert - how important his training had been - you felt something within your heart, a longing sentimentality. His words describing a life you wish you had known. A sense of purpose and duty. A greater cause to fight for. A chosen family with a common mindset. A place in the galaxy.

These were things you had dreamed about for your entire existence. Every day that passed felt meaningless and draining, knowing that you were doing nothing of importance. The life Mando described to you sounded like heaven. The idea of having something to fight for filled your entire body with electricity. You couldn’t help but stare at him with wonder as he detailed to you a life you had always wanted.

“Dank ferric.” He grumbles. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said all that.” Mando says, snapping back from the trance he had found himself in.

“Oh gods, no that’s my fault I shouldn’t have pried.” You try to apologize. “I’ll forget everything you said.” Although you don’t truly know if you had a choice. You think you might never be free from the wishful idea of belonging that had latched onto something deep within you.

“Oh, I don’t mean that I shouldn’t have told you. I trust you won’t do any harm with that information.” He says with a nod towards you and you can’t help but blush at his compliment. Being trusted by Mando might be the highest honour he could give. “I just shouldn’t have gone on so long. I apologize for taking up your time.”

“Mando, you don’t have to apologize for speaking.” You joke, although simultaneoausly noticing the way Mando had stiffened at your words, you continue, “At least not to me,” you say reaching out across the table to grab the Mandalorians hand, a gesture that your sober self would never have had the courage to do. “You obviously care about your heritage, and rightfully so. It sounds magnificent. You should be able to be proud of it.”

“I don’t usually have that privilege. Many people would take advantage of such knowledge.”

“Well, you deserve to have the freedom to talk about something you care about,” you say as you bring your other hand across the table and give a caring squeeze to his hand, “And I swear, the only exploitation you’ll get from me is my claim to babysit your little womp rat whenever you come to town.” you say retracting your hands away from Mando and instead making grabby hands toward the child.

“Well, I don’t know anyone better suited to the job. It would be unwise to deny you that wish, especially now that you have intel on me.”

“Was that a joke, and a complement? From a Mandalorian?” you scoff, “Wow. I never thought I’d live to see it.”

“Does that mean I have to kill you now?” he shifts to the edge of his seat and leans towards you.

“Oh, I’d like to see you try, bucket head.” you tease, knowing full well he could kill you in an instant without even trying. Regardless, you shift forward and cross your arms on the table, challenging him with the mirrored motion.

The two of you stare at each other in silence, your mouth creeping into a mischievous smile. You wonder what might be going through his mind, as all you can think about is the idea of him pinning you to the ground in a millisecond, and just when you think he will break, a voice brings your attention away.

“I think we gotta call it,” Cara says, a little too loudly for her close proximity to your ear. You wince at the intrusion, cursing the fact that you won't get to know how your challenge ended.

“I should be on my way then” the Mandalorian states, “Although I’m still missing some supplies-”

“Lemme grab them for you.” You insist, “I can meet you back at your ship in 30 minutes. Got a list?”

The Mandalorian lists off a handful of items, and you instantly know you have them all in stock. You give him a nod and stand from your booth. “See you in a few.” You say with a wink that you instantly regret the minute you turn your back.

“How long do you think you’ll be gone for?” You question Mando as you approach him with the crateful of supplies he requested.

“Not really sure. If I get any leads on the Jedi, I have to follow them up. Of course, Nevarro is always a safe place to refuel and restock.”

“So, you’ll be back as long as you need shit from me?” you startle yourself with your choice of language, remembering the several shots of spotchka you just downed and how your tongue might be a little looser.

“Not just you.” The Mandalorian states rather quickly, in a tone you’d almost label as flustered. “I can’t get fuel from you,” he continues much more coolly.

“Mhhhm, right. That is true. But no other reason.”

“Another reason for what?”

“For you to come back. Here. I mean you’ve got friends here-”

“I don’t really have friends.”

“Well, that mighta hurt my feelings if I knew you a bit better, but I’m certain Cara and Karga would feel a bit under appreciated. Especially after everything that happened…” You trail off.

“They are much more business partners then friends,” you squint your eyes and raise your brow at him with those words, making him corrects himself, “But sure. If you want to classify them as friends, then yes.”

After a brief silence you somewhat bravely somewhat stupidly ask, “And me?” Eyes wide and hopeful, sober-you would be ashamed. Taking a step towards him you muster up even more courage, “Would I be classified as a friend too?”

“Yes. A valuable one,” He states stepping towards you as well, “One who could teach me something about caring for a child.”

“Oh, no. I know nothing about that. I guess I’m just good at relating to them. Maybe I’m still young at heart” you tease. Something about the Mandalorian tells you he’s got a lot of years behind him, a lot of...experience. You don’t have much evidence to back it up, more of a vibe really.

After another small silence the Mandalorian speaks. “I guess it’s nice to have friendly faces around, for the child's sake. Perhaps I should make it a habit to return until he’s been united with his people”

“And what about you? You don’t go crazy having no one to talk to but the kid?”

“Not much of a talker”

“Except for tonight.”

“Fair.” He bluntly states. “It doesn’t seem too difficult to get information out of you”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“You seem to like to talk, is all”

“Well, it’s been a while since I've been in good company. To be honest I think I talked more tonight than in the past several years''

“I can agree with that.”

“We make a good pair then. Two people who don’t talk yet can’t shut up around each other” And at this point you don’t even know what you’re saying. The proximity to the Mandalorian and the alcohol in your blood are mixing at a dangerous level, making you blurt out things you’re sure you’d never have the courage to say.

In the silence that followed, you are eager to find something to fill it. You think back to how he talked of his upbringing, the joy you felt in his voice. It reminded you of the last time you could remember feeling that way.

“You know, the way you spoke of sparing with your siblings, it reminded me of my childhood.” You say, eager to find something to fill the silence. Normally you don’t mind quiet but drunk you has decided otherwise. “When I was very young my siblings and I would fight constantly, always in good nature of course. We wanted to win the affection of our parents, although they would have loved us either way. But they would cheer us on. They always encouraged our fighting, telling us we would be stronger for it when we were grown.

“When they watched us, they looked so in love, so proud. My mother would turn to my father and say ‘we raised warriors’. It was like they knew things would turn bad. I mean of course there were wars, and the Empire was a constant threat, but somehow, they were always prepared for the worst. Like they were ready for a fight that might never come.”

The Mandalorian stood silently, and it seemed your attempt to relate to him failed spectacularly. However, for a moment, you thought you caught the subtle tilt of his visor. Like he was examining you, maybe unsure of what to make of your lengthy anecdote.

“That does resemble my upbringing.” He spoke softly, finally filling the conversational void. “Quite a lot, actually.” But then silence returned. A buzzing filled your ears from the complete lack of auditory stimulation. You felt yourself becoming unsteady, like the force of the silence was pushing you off balance. You now realized the total effects of your inebriation were hitting you. “Were you-” but before Mando could finish his thought, your stomach forced its contents out violently, and you were lucky enough to find the sense to turn away from him, and rush towards a near alleyway, just in time.

As your body rid itself of the liquid poison, you couldn’t help but let multiple tears spill out of your eyes, unsure if it was from the force of the projectile, or the complete embarrassment.

“Oh, dear gods,” you finally croak as you regain your bearings on the spinning world around you. “I am so sorry, Mando. That was so kriffing embarrassing.” You try to cover your face, as you sweep your tears from your cheeks. But Mando already made his way over to you, crouching to meet you on the ground, grabbing your hands in his and placing a canteen in them instead.

“Drink. It’ll help.” He says in a soft hushed tone. You aren’t even sure where he got the canteen from, maybe it just happened to be near at the time, or he went back up to the ship in the time you were hurling… “Drink.” He repeats, interrupting your train of thought.

You unflask it with shaky hands and take a large swig, immediately feeling some relief from the burning sensation in your throat. “You need food as well.” He adds simply, grabbing your arms and heaving your dead weight off the ground as if it were nothing to him. After helping back to standing position, he turned toward his ship and made his way to the ramp. Before ascending, he turned back to you and finished his original thought, “Let’s see what rations you gathered for me. Come on.”

So, you make your way over to the ship, which is a task in itself as your legs felt as though they might give out at any moment.

“Wow,” you say in astonishment. You’d never seen a true cruiser like this. Any inter-planet hopper you’d taken to make your way to Nevarro had always been either completely basic and Imperial made, or a complete hunk of junk. And although you had nothing really to base it on, this ship was leagues ahead of anything you had experienced before. To think he got to spend all his time travelling the galaxy in a ship like this, all on his own. That was true adventure.

And you knew from the carbon scoring on the exterior that he had actually seen it. Excitement, danger, freedom. But the inside of this ship told a more complex story. You think that before it would have been simple. A weapons locker, a tiny sleeping quarter, a refresher, and not much else. The bare necessities for a man always in motion. No home. No attachments. But what you figured must have been new additions showed glimpses of a different man. A tiny hammock over the sleeping area, a small padded seat lifted to meet the height of a protruding shelf that almost resembled a dinner table, and what looked like makeshift toys strewn across the hull. All signs of another lifeform making itself comfortable on his ship and in his life.

“Here.” the Mandalorian grunted, breaking you from your daze, as he held out a ration stick to you. “Are you alright?”

“Well, I don’t feel as… vomitty, as before.” You start, now staring at the man in front of you, right where you figure - where you’re almost certain - his eyes are meeting yours. You think of his willingness to take care of you, twice tonight. Nothing added up. He was a complete mystery. Just when you thought you had him pinned, everything was suddenly flipped.

“That’s good, you just look a little out-of-it.” He said as he placed a hand on your shoulder, probably trying to steady you from whatever state you were in.

“Oh no, I’m just admiring the place.” You say, breaking eye contact to scan over the area again, taking in new details as you did so.

“Ha ha.” he says dryly, retracting his hand from you.

“No, I’m serious,” you reply sternly, offended that he would think so little of his own ship. “I’ve never seen anything like this, except for maybe in my dreams. I can’t imagine getting to fly in this every day. Or, oh maker! You get to see the stars in hyperspace, that was my favourite part! I only got to travel through hyperspace once. And, dank ferric, it was spectacular. Every other damn transport was sublight, not fun. Very slow, but generally cheaper, I guess. I’d kill to get to see that again” You could feel the excitement within you reach your face. A giant grin bursting out of you when you could no longer contain the joy within.

“Where were you travelling?” He questioned after examining your elation, and you could hear the genuine nature of his question, like he actually cared. Most people had never taken this much interest in your past.

“Oh, really anywhere I could. I just wanted to get away from, well, everything. My family, the war, my whole life. I tried to start over, but I didn’t get very far. Got stranded here, and I could never find the means to continue my journey.”

“Your journey?” He prompted, trying his best to stifle the laugh that followed.

“Yah okay that sounds a little ridiculous, but really I was just trying to find some excitement, something different. Just trying to find… something. It sounds dumb, I know, but I was so sick of my life, so when I had the opportunity to go, I went. I went everywhere I could afford, until I could barely afford food. So, I worked at that vendor for scraps until I saved enough to keep going, but I guess I never saved enough.”

“So, you’re still looking?’

“Huh?”

“You said you were looking to find something, but it doesn’t sound like you found it.”

“No. I haven’t. Not that I even know what I was looking for. But it seemed like one of those ‘you’ll know when you know’ things”

“Well, what if someone could take you away from Nevarro?” he questioned.

“Wouldn’t happen. I’ve got barely enough credits to buy bantha crap.”

“What if that person didn’t need credits, just company.”

The statement threw you. Suddenly you weren’t sure what Mando truly knew about your reputation. “Uhhh what kinda company, because I really don’t-”

“A friend.” He paused, making you wonder why he would propose such an idea, “A valuable one.”

And only then did the wires connect in your still-woozy brain. He was asking you to join him. Again. But this time as a friend. Someone he knew and trusted. Someone who he felt comfortable enough with to talk about his Creed with. And suddenly your heart stopped beating.

You could not – for the love of the Maker – mess this up again. But maybe you should make sure.

“Me?” you say while lazily pointing towards yourself for further clarification. “Mando are you asking me to join you two?”

“Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for.” He says before making his way back out of the hull to finish packing the remnants of the supplies, apparently making the decision for you, as you definitely gave no answer. But it was the answer you wanted. A way out. An escape. And for kriffing sake, free.

As you stood, dumbstruck and alone, in the hull, you wondered just what it might be like. Getting to see some danger up close and personal. To see treacherous planets one week, then beautiful landscapes the next.

When Mando returned to the hull with the last of the supplies, only two words could escape your mouth, quieter and softer than you may have ever spoken before. “Thank you.”

Chapter 3

☆ I appreciate every like and comment so much, thank you all! And if you’d like to be added to the tag list let me know ☆

Taglist: @peppywitch @tobealostwanderer @thecraftyartist @ajeff855 @greatcircle79

Notes: In this chapter I say that the reader is “relatively attractive”. I’m not trying to single anyone out here or make you feel like you can’t be the reader if you don’t view yourself as attractive (because we are all fucking gorgeous anyway fuck societal norms). What I really mean to say is that like being a human looking person makes the reader more attractive than some alien-being might be (like weird alien species that would make up the general population of the more ‘outer rim’ planets she might be on). I was just trying to emphasize that she would be viewed as rare since young female humans wouldn’t normally populate those types of planets. Also, because the reader being female and kinda youngish will play a role later as I kinda touch on the dangers of the bounty hunter life and how the reader needs to navigate it.

#mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian #mando #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din #star wars #the mandalorian x reader #fem reader #mando fluff #Star Wars fanfiction

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juliaisabellphoto · 4 years ago

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My 2020 Albums of the Year

Never requested, always provided. Here are my favorites of 2020. Here’s the playlist.

The Secret Sisters, Saturn Return

As soon as I saw “Water Witch, featuring Brandi Carlile” on this tracklist I knew that the Secret Sisters would be a favorite of 2020. In February, I was staying with a friend in Nashville and she mentioned them as a local favorite, and when I stopped at Grimey’s to shop for records I came upon a signed copy of “Saturn Return.” I had never heard the Secret Sisters before, but there is nobody I trust more to recommend music than this Nashville friend of mine, so I bought it. I made no mistake here: this record blew me away. The soft, soulful, lullaby of “Healer in the Sky” pulled me through the pain of the first month of quarantine and soothed me as the world was turned upside down. In reading more on the record, this seems to have been the point: they say, “this album is a reflection of us coming to terms with how to find our power in the face of an unfair world… our hope is that women can feel less alone in their journey through the modern world.” There is something in the caramel-thick sweetness of these sisters’ voices that makes a listener feel as though they’ve been bewitched into calm. When I think of this album, I think of the cross-country drive I took at the beginning of the pandemic to make my way home and the happy moments that can be found in darkness. No album touched my heart this year in the way that “Saturn Return” did.

Taylor Swift, Folklore and Evermore

Taylor Swift… can even be said? Somehow, while we all sat on our couches in quarantine, this woman created not one but two musical masterpieces. She begins “the 1” by stating “I’m doin good, I’m on some new shit,” and that says a lot about the album as a whole. She created the 2020 we all wish we experienced: soft, sweet, and gentle. Listening to Folklore feels like visiting a cabin in the woods, with a fireplace well lit. Swift tells winding stories of love, hardship, and mystery and tenderly walks us through the forest of her imagination. This magical feeling was amplified by her release of The Long Pond Studio Sessions, a film in which Swift, Jack Antonoff, and Aaron Dessner finally play the album together for the first time after recording it entirely remotely. The setting matches the sound: they play in an album in the middle of the woods, cozy and hidden from the snow. Evermore cuts through the delicate ice of Folklore: it is the color to Folklore’s black and white. Swift combines the soft folk sound of “willow” with some of her country and Americana roots in “no body, no crime,” drawing us in once again. She includes Bon Iver singing in his lower register in Folklore and then in his falsetto in Evermore: two sides of the same magic coin. The work in these two albums is Swift’s strongest ever, and solidifies the fact that no modern artist can really reach her.

Chris Stapleton, Starting Over

Following a three-year hiatus, all lovers of southern rock deeply needed a Chris Stapleton album. In “Starting Over,” Stapleton yet again does what he does best: combines his unique whiskey-tinged growl with the best lyricism present in country music today. This record can’t be captured in any singular fashion, neither musically nor emotionally. The title track sets a high bar for the rest of the record with a reflection on re-remembering what really matters, a message certainly relevant for this turbulent year. Stapleton’s typical outlaw-country brand is present in full with “Devil Always Made Me Think Twice,” “Arkansas,” and “Hillbilly Blood,” but other songs take him in a completely new stylistic direction. “Maggie’s Song” takes on a very classic old-time country feel, as Stapleton weaves sweet and simple stories as he processes the loss of his pup. He harnesses the energy of the Chicks as he angrily lambasts the perpetrators of the 2017 mass shooting at Route 91. The song is a Stapleton-sponsored judgment day reckoning, including the cacophonic sound of a crowd in panic and the shrieks of a gospel choir. In contrast with this energetic high, Stapleton goes deep into his blues side by finally releasing “You Should Probably Leave,” a song he has been sitting on for six years. This one feels just right to sway around the kitchen to. With each listen to “Starting Over” I find new lyrics to write down and remember, new sounds to love.

Bad Bunny, YHLQMDLG

Bad Bunny. Our unproblematic reggaeton prince. In the wake of his many popular features and his collaborative album with J Balvin, Bad Bunny makes it clear that it is time for Balvin to share the throne of popular reggaeton. He features the original reggaeton king Daddy Yankee in “La Santa,” paying tribute to the very classic reggaeton style before mixing it and transcending beyond the classics in the following tracks. “Yo Perreo Sola” is the album’s standout track, accompanied by my favorite music video of 2020. The song is an ode to gender equality and the destruction of the patriarchal norms contributing to gender-based violence. “Yo Perreo Sola,” meaning “I twerk alone,” sets the overarching theme of consent present throughout the song’s lyrics. In the video, Benito’s backdrop references the Argentinian-born “Ni Una Menos” movement, a now global movement against gender-based violence. As if this wasn’t enough to make you adore him, the video further extends its activism to the LGBTQ community, with Benito appearing in full drag, in his normal attire, and at some points held in chains by women. He makes a statement about sexuality and gender expression in the video, twerking solo. The other jawdropper track on YHLQMDLG is Safaera, a perfect display of Bad Bunny’s skill in expanding the scope of reggaeton as a genre. In the same thirty seconds of the song, he subtly samples both “Could You Be Loved” by Bob Marley and the Wailers and Missy Elliot’s “Get Ya Freak On” - a segment I just can’t get out of my head. Bad Bunny’s prowess on this record is rounded out with the aggressive and prideful “P FKN R.” What a masterpiece.

Mac Miller, Circles

A posthumous record that never should have been posthumous. A companion-piece to Mac’s 2018 record “Swimming,” Circles takes a similar tone, one of resilience through pain. The title track serves as a somber introduction, followed by the funk energy of “Complicated” and the GO:OD AM energy of “Blue World.” The song that really got to me, and many other fans of Mac, was “Good News.” It is the pinnacle of Mac’s musical insight and talent. The melody matches the melancholy of the track, as Mac sings of his desire for time and space. The melancholy is matched in “Everybody” with the lines about death feeling particularly haunting in the wake of Miller’s accidental overdose. Somehow, Miller wrote the perfect eulogy for himself prior to his passing, one that will live in the hearts of his fans forever.

Kali Uchis, Sin Miedo (del Amor y Otros Demonios) ∞

I’m not quite sure what to call this record. If I just listened to “la luna enamorada,” a cover of a classic Cuban bolero, I would call it gorgeous. If I just listened to “fue mejor” featuring PARTYNEXTDOOR or “quiero sentirme bien,” I would call it sexy. If I just listened to “vaya con dios,” I would think she wrote the theme music for the next James Bond film. The bottom line of the record is Uchis’ absolute stunning use of her upper register. She hits notes that “Isolation” never would have foreshadowed, painting a dreamland for any listener. She slides back into the energy of her sophomore album in “telepatia,” but adds in moments of her new sound. She incorporates a slower reggaeton beat into no eres tu (soy yo), and dives into a heavier reggaeton sound in te pongo mal (prendelo.) My personal favorite of the record is “aqui yo mando!” with Rico Nasty: it is the perfect display of Uchis’ unique upper register combined with Rico’s trap style. Anyone passing this record up for another “Isolation” listen is missing out.

FLETCHER, The S(ex) Tapes

This record has a story like no other, coming from a woman like no other. This EP was recorded while Fletcher quarantined with her ex-girlfriend, who also happened to film all of the music videos for it. It is this messiness that makes The S(ex) Tapes absolute magic. Fletcher’s own description of the name of the release explains the situation best: “A sex tape is someone being captured in their most vulnerable, wildest, rawest form, and my ex has always captured me that way.” She captures all of the feelings of a breakup with someone you still love deeply, and the relationship relapse that comes with moving past those feelings. Fletcher’s special ability comes in representing these deeply painful experiences in an uplifting manner: this is a sexy pop EP meant to be danced to. Fletcher simultaneously validates all of the emotional tumult, but subtly nudges the listener toward blissful reckless abandon. It almost makes me wish I had a breakup to go through! The abrasive apathy of “Shh… Don’t Say It” and the flippant, angry vulnerability of “Bitter” are paired perfectly with Fletcher’s raw brand of distortion. In an interview with Nylon, Fletcher speaks to this: “Listen, I've done my fair share of just straight-up sad, crying in your bed music. I'm still going through shit, but I want to bop to it. We can still be emo and want to twerk at the same time.” Yes, Fletcher, we do.

Halsey, Manic

Prior to 2020, I wasn’t Halsey’s biggest fan. I wouldn’t have even called myself a fan. I just wasn’t that excited by her music. “I’m Not Mad” was the song that triggered a 180 for me. The heavy, dissonant kick of the drums and her raw, angry lyricism drew me in without hesitation. I suppose this was just the push I needed to fall in love with the rest of her music: the songs with similar bite, “Without Me” and “killing boys,” and the more raw side of the record in “You should be sad,” “929,” and “Graveyard.” Her vulnerability is so much of what makes this record perfect. The album fully made sense to me when I listened to her podcast feature on “Armchair Expert” with Dax Shepard. In it, she talks through the time period covered by the record and gives context to her powerful lyricism. “Manic” is a story of chasing someone she loved into drug-fueled oblivion, and then finally finding the power to leave. The album is brimming with this power, and I just can’t turn it off.

HAIM, Women In Music Pt. III

HAIM is THE soft rock band of the modern era.Women In Music Pt. III, their most mature album yet, solidified this opinion for me in a way that I didn’t expect. There is so much to be said for this record: it is innovative and skilled, with the perfect balance of softness and hardness. Though the record is one of pain and trauma, you wouldn’t know it purely from its melodies. “Don’t Wanna” is a very classic HAIM pop rock number, and “The Steps” follows suit making frustration fun to dance to. Though one may not notice at first, in this record HAIM dives deeper than ever before. “Now I’m In It” does a phenomenal job of sonically representing the feeling of being completely and utterly overwhelmed. “I Know Alone” is a beautifully intimate rainy-day account of Danielle’s struggle with depression. Then comes “3AM” - a lighthearted song about a booty call with Thundercat-type bass and an R&B vibe - just in case you didn’t already know how much range these three sisters have. Everything about this record is filled with talent.

Phoebe Bridgers, Punisher

Only Phoebe Bridgers could write a song about murdering a skinhead and fill it with nostalgia. “Garden Song,” the leading single preceding “Punisher,” foreshadowed a record that is just so very Phoebe: melancholy, vulnerable, and heart-wrenching. The eagerly awaited album certainly followed suit, with typical sad ballads “Halloween” and “Moon Song” played alongside more raucous, Better Oblivion Community Center-esque songs such as “Kyoto” and “ICU.” She goes bluegrass on “Graceland Too” with banjo, violin, and layered harmonies from boygenius collaborators Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker. In “Punisher,” Bridgers shares with us the wistful catharsis that she is so very talented at creating.

Noah Cyrus, THE END OF EVERYTHING

I always underestimated Miley’s little sister, but here I am writing about her EP before I write about Miley’s in my end of the year roundup. Every piece in this record gave me chills: Cyrus’ lower register allows her to access a somber kind of ballad that I just can’t get enough of. The record starts off at a peak with the slow burn of “Ghost” and somehow manages to get even better with “I Got So High That I Saw Jesus.” This powerful song, even better in the live version where Miley joins her younger sister, builds into an almost gospel-like ode to the idea that everything will be okay. “July,” the single featuring Leon Bridges that pushed Cyrus into the national spotlight, stands as the most beautifully layered song of the EP. The soft guitar picking and choral sound complement Cyrus’ upper register. The whole record, extending through the closing title track, is a comforting, soft emotional analgesic for 2020.

The Chicks, Gaslighter

This record is gorgeous. It is painful. The feelings Natalie Maines expresses in this record are feelings I have felt far too deeply in personal relationships, and they also are feelings everyone is feeling globally in 2020. “Gaslighter” is just straight up fun, a perfect extension of the Chicks’ energy found in “Goodbye Earl” and other older revenge numbers (but with an extra poppy Jack Antonoff twist this time.) “Tights On My Boat” is bitter, funny, and shows off Maines’ upper register with stripped guitar. “Sleep at Night” musically and lyrically embodies the pain of being betrayed. “Julianna Calm Down” is a stunning ballad of female resilience. “Texas Man” perfectly captures the bubbly feeling of moving on. “For Her” and “March March” fit in with the frustrated, betrayed, power-centered theme of the record in a very different way. The Chicks’ dualistic ability to discuss her ex-husband’s cheating alongside the band’s political views is what makes the record special: not only are we watching a woman try to move on and develop her personal strength, but we are also seeing this personal strength harnessed for political impact. They simultaneously denounce the abuse of power in both politics and relationships, while reclaiming that power for themselves in standing up for what they believe in. How very Chicks of them.

Dua Lipa, Future Nostalgia

Dua motherfucking Lipa. This woman would have been the official owner of 2020 had we been able to dance to this record at bars and clubs. This was proven ten times over by the success of the album’s first single, “Don’t Start Now,” a song that is absolutely the MOST fun. Or so I thought… until I heard “Physical,” “Levitating,” and “Break My Heart.” What poor timing for such a phenomenal dance record, but at least she gave the people some great material for Tik Tok dances! All COVID-dance-related concerns aside, this is a really well done sophomore album for Dua Lipa. The funk elements of the album most clearly seen in “Levitating” elevate Dua’s brand of pop to a new level. The all gas no brakes nature of this dance-pop record works wonders for her - she knows what the people want from her, and she delivers.

Megan Thee Stallion, Good News

THIS! RECORD! If WAP could be an album of the year, it would be, but it’s a standalone single and Megan Thee Stallion proceeded to release the next best thing. The explosion of Megan Thee Stallion has been a pleasure to watch in 2020, with both WAP and Savage leaving the charge. With an artist like her, it’s easy to get lost in the smash hits and ignore the prolific nature of her work. “Good News” is an immaculate rap album, brimming with sass and defiant bad bitch energy. “Shots Fired” kicks off the album with a Biggie sample and a diss to the man who shot her in the foot earlier in the year, personally my favorite track of the record. Other highlights of the record include “Don’t Stop” with a Young Thug feature, “Body” which is now a Tik Tok staple, and “What’s New.” Perhaps the most impressive work Megan does on “Good News” is “Girls in the Hood,” a rework of Eazy-E’s Boyz-N-The-Hood. She inverts the classic misogyny of the original song by emphasizing her control over men like Eazy-E in an indignant assertion of female power. This embodies Megan Thee Stallion’s essence: busting in on a male industry and making her presence known.

Rico Nasty, Nightmare Vacation

Nobody does it like Rico Nasty, and I’m convinced nobody ever will. I saw a New York Times headline titled “Can the Mainstream Catch Up to Rico Nasty?” the other day and I think the answer is a firm no. Rico is abrasive, rude, and outside the box in the absolute best way. Need an album to slap in the car when you’re feeling like a bad bitch? This. is. it. The record kicks off with “Candy,” a song with a wild beat and the iconic chorus line “Call me crazy, but you can never call me broke.” Following is a Don Toliver and Gucci Mane feature in “Don’t Like Me,” a song that truly should have hit the mainstream by now. She gets back to her signature scream-rap in “STFU” and “OHFR.” “OHFR” is the confident standout of the album, along with the reworked re-release of “Smack a Bitch,” making it clear that Rico Nasty is not a woman to be fucked with. In “Back and Forth” with Amine, Rico steps into Amine’s “Limbo” style and does it well. The record’s second single “Own It” is a more classic club banger that unfortunately didn’t get to see the dark of night in any clubs this year. Even if the mainstream never catches up to Rico Nasty, I’ll be following along with her self-labelled “sugar trap.”

Ariana Grande, Positions

I mean, duh. Ariana just doesn’t miss. She surprised everyone with this album’s release in Fall 2020, displaying the bliss of her relationship with later-confirmed fiance. She goes dirtier than usual in the sex-centered “34+35” and “nasty,” rounding the record out with the Craig David-reminiscent “positions.” Ariana allows herself to lust for someone and even love for them in these three, but defaults to her brimming self-confidence in “just like magic” and “west side.” The album is more R&B than pop at times, with the peak of this style visible in the groove of “my hair” and the Mariah Carey ballad-like nature of “pov.” Each album, Grande shifts just a little bit, keeping us attached: “Sweetener”’s cotton-candy pop, the savage pop-trap of “thank u, next,” and the R&B conclusion of the spectrum with Positions.

Miley Cyrus, Plastic Hearts

This year I anticipated no record more than I did “Plastic Hearts.” Its leading single, “Midnight Sky,” described by Pitchfork as a “cocaine-dusted disco track,” channels Stevie Nicks’ eighties rock-pop era in the absolute best way. Apparently this opinion was even picked up by Stevie herself, as the two collaborated on a mash-up of “Midnight Sky” and Stevie’s “Edge of Seventeen” (the excitement from which nearly led to my passing away, by the way.) Cyrus’ voice is in the perfect place on this record, with “Plastic Hearts” emphasizing her rasp and making me want to spin around a room. She dips into the pop realm in “Prisoner” with Dua Lipa, a song that Lipa clearly influences with an unforgettably sexy music video. Every song is different on this record: “Gimme What I Want” channels the grinding rock sound of Nine Inch Nails, “Bad Karma” allows Joan Jett’s punchy style to run the show, and she slips on the shoes of Billy Idol in their collaboration, Night Crawling. Somehow, Miley manages to wear the shoes well, and 80s copycat record or not, I can’t stop listening. “Never Be Me” is where she shines most deeply, baring her soul, the complicated nature of her past few years’ journey, and her knowledge of who she is and always will be for the world to hear. I’m not sure if I’m blinded to the album’s flaws by my absolute and complete love for everything about Miley’s current persona, but I am a huge fan.

Glass Animals, Dreamland

The sound of this album is such a blissful respite! Glass Animals gives us the fun and funky techno-pop that they always do, but dive into personal lyricism in a way that they never have before. Many of the songs actually have a storyline (an intentionally rare feat for Dave Bayley, first broken with the incredible “Agnes” on their last album.) This record explores trauma and pain in “Domestic Bliss” and “It’s All So Incredibly Loud,” Bayley using the soft sides of his voice to express pained desperation. The boisterous energy of the past two records is not forgotten in Dreamland’s intimacy, however: “Hot Sugar,” “Tokyo Drifting,” and “Space Ghost Coast To Coast” do the trick. “Space Ghost Coast To Coast” is the most intriguing song on the record: at first listen, I had absolutely no idea what Dave was discussing and assumed it was just his typical neuroscience-inspired ear-candy. Upon a deeper dive, the song addresses the factors that encouraged Dave’s childhood friend to bring a gun to school. He disguises a discussion of the risk factors involved in school shootings within his flowery, figurative linguistic excellence. This duality of blissful melody and solemn subject matter is the magic of Glass Animals.

Empress Of, I’m Your Empress Of

This album is an emotional electro-pop masterpiece. This record meditates on the feelings felt in the wake of a relationship’s end. She begins the album with a quote from her mother about the reality and value of struggle, then launching into a synth-filled storm of missing someone. “Love Is A Drug” is the album’s next fun dance track, addressing the addictive quality of touch after you lose someone you love and embodying the urgency of the feeling. She takes a more somber tone with the influence of Jim-E Stack in “U Give It Up,” incorporating quotes from her mother about the difficulty of womanhood and reminiscing on love lost. In “Should’ve,” the post-relationship regret is palpable in her vocal tone and production, and in “Maybe This Time” she contemplates this pain. In “Give Me Another Chance,” her emotions swing the other way, with a bouncing dance beat and pleading vocals. The album concludes with the heartfelt and pain-filled “Hold Me Like Water” and the dissonant “Awful,” leaving the listener to meditate on the mood swings of a broken relationship.

Tame Impala, The Slow Rush

This album came out so early in 2020 that it already feels like a vintage piece of music. Perhaps that was the point. Although “The Slow Rush” had a hard time living up to Kevin Parker’s last epic masterpiece “Currents,” it was the fix many fans like myself needed after five years without an LP. “Borderline,” the single that allowed anticipation of the album to build, stands out as one of the most essentially Parker tracks of the record. He introduces a little Toro y Moi style funk in “Is It True,” and highlights his voice more than usual in “Lost In Yesterday.” “Posthumous Forgiveness” builds in the wonderfully dissonant fashion that fans learned to love through “Eventually.” The bass track on “Glimmer” is so good that I never even noticed it had nearly no lyrics. This record is not groundbreaking by any standards in the way that “Currents” was, but it is intentionally jubilant and energetic in a way that still feels good. Even if he doesn’t shatter any expectations in “The Slow Rush,” Tame Impala’s tracklist still makes the perfect sunset companion.

Joji, Nectar

Joji’s “Nectar” is just that: sweet R&B nectar, from the minute the first track plays. Joji’s work here is not in the individual tracks, but in the sonic experience he creates with the album as a whole. This is not an album to pick out singles from: it is a full cinematic mood adjustment. Maybe it’s the weed I smoked when I first listened, but the record feels like a wonderful progression of gentle yet rhythmic R&B songs. The transition from the soft and contemplative “MODUS” to the more upbeat trap-infused “Tick Tock” to the full R&B ballad “Daylight” featuring Diplo raises the listener’s energy gradually to a crescendo. “Run” is a gorgeous and sad confessional of disappointment, and “Sanctuary” follows as a soft and uplifting analgesic to that pain. “Pretty Boy” and “777” mark the more upbeat section of the record, filled with Joji’s accounts of living far too fast. The tracks of this record all bleed into each other seamlessly, mixing pain and confidence in an emotional rollercoaster.

Amine, Limbo

My journey to being an Amine fan started with “Caroline,” ended with “Heebiejeebies,” and started back up again when he found depth in “ONEPOINTFIVE.” His 2020 release is exactly why I came around to his music yet again. The record is soulful and fun, with the flute and cocky lyrics in “Woodlawn” and the funky beat and Young Thug feature of “Compensating.” The two songs I absolutely can’t stop listening to however, are “Can’t Decide” and “Becky.” “Can’t Decide” highlights Amine’s singing voice and dips away from rap and trap into the more traditional R&B realm. “Becky” is an intimate account of the difficulties involved with interracial dating, both in public and in the family realm. The two sides of the album, one emphasizing rhythm and immaculate production, and the other lyricism and emotion, are found in these two songs. The punchy “Pressure In My Palms” (featuring slowthai and Vince Staples) and “Riri” round out the record’s light side. In “Limbo,” Amine finds the perfect balance.

Fleet Foxes, Shore

This album is a wave of calm. Robin Pecknold’s soothing voice is exactly what we needed more of this year. Pitchfork described his mission as “turning anxiety into euphoria,” and that is how this record feels. Each song is dynamic and filled with what makes Fleet Foxes so special. There is a choral quality to the vocals of “Shore,” as always, adding to the calm aura of the record. “A Long Way Past The Past” takes the listener on a what feels like a long walk filled with serious conversation. “Going-to-the-Sun Road,” a song that takes its name from the famous cliffside road through Glacier National Park, oozes sunshine in its Tame Impala-Bon Iver crossover sound. “Cradling Mother, Cradling Woman,” truly feels like being cradled in sound. Fleet Foxes has a knack for beginning songs by hitting the listener with a wall of sound, and that is so perfectly represented in this track. This is a seriously beautiful album.

Cam, The Otherside

Cam’s voice is irresistible. She showed her talent for sharing painful ballads in her breakthrough single “Burning House,” and in “The Otherside” she digs deeper. She writes this record in a period of change, and captures this change and dissonance in the nostalgia of “Redwood Tree.” She teamed up with Avicii for the title track before he passed away, and it shows. His signature building melodies and guitar breaks are clear, and they go perfectly with the range of Cam’s voice. She truly shows her range in this track and this record in general, from the highs in “The Otherside” and the lows of “Changes.” “Changes” is another standout of the album, co-written by Harry Styles. This record is a gorgeous account of outgrowing love and outgrowing people after the deep bliss that you felt with them in the past. “Till There’s Nothing Left” and “Classic” are the big love songs of the record, one that melts you and one that makes you want to dance in a field of flowers. The sisterly confessional “Diane” pulls Cam back to her country roots. She ends the record with what made her famous: a beautiful, sad ballad backed only by piano. Her unique vocals are on full display as the record concludes, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more.

Omar Apollo, Apolonio

Omar Apollo had his breakthrough in this record. His work spans languages and genres in a big way in “Apolonio.” “Kamikaze” and “Staybacik” stick to his typical R&B style, better produced than it ever has been. “Dos Uno Nueve (219)” goes a completely different direction, a Mexican corrido track featuring Yellow Room Music, honoring the Latinx musical styles that he expressed admiration for. Apollo also explores his sexuality in this album, fluidly discussing his bisexuality in “Kamikaze” and “I’m Amazing” in an exploratory manner. The whole album is generally quite exploratory, a quality that makes me even more excited for the work that is to come from Apollo.

Also worth mentioning:

Diplo, Diplo Presents Thomas Wesley: Snake Oil

Thundercat, It Is What It Is

Sylvan Esso, Free Love

Lauv, ~how i’m feeling~

Niall Horan, Heartbreak Weather

J Balvin, Colores

Kelsea Ballerini, kelsea

Dominic Fike, What Could Possibly Go Wrong

#music #2020

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chubbyooo · 5 years ago

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Blurred Lines: Cursed Past Chapter 85 - Love Over Great Distances

Hey all Gacen is back its been so long since this orange oaf has done stuff which kinda makes sense since he's been with Risha Gacen begins the search for Sumalee but makes sure to keep Risha close

Gacen felt calm, he hadn’t left Risha’s side since arriving on Gabredor Prime, the planet was so weird it was so remote but also so beautiful, he had to admit he hadn’t been looking at the planet's beauty much though. He looked down at her lying in his arms and smiled, she really had waited for him, their love was real, he stroked her hair as she looked up at him still looking as smarmy as ever but clearly happy he was here. It was impressive she’d managed to get this set up in five years but not surprising, she could do anything when she set her mind to it and he’d help her whatever it took, he wasn’t a coward anymore.

Gacen frowned thinking to himself “so how do you think Sumalee is going to react when she sees me, throw me down the stairs or just groan” Risha laughed shaking her head at him

She smiled “she doesn’t hate you that much just the right amount, that sweet spot I found too” Gacen faked a gasp acting all offended “oh come on don’t make me feel bad dumbass” she sat up putting her forehead against his

Gacen smiled “I know I’m just kidding I’ll do my best to convince her despite the fact I’d rather just stay here with you, I only just got back and now I have to go again” he pouts at Risha who to no surprise doesn’t jump to comfort him

She tapped the comm link she gave him “you may go but I’m not letting us seperate that easy you better talk to me the whole time i spent ages getting these encrypted so it’s safe for us to talk” Gacen smiled at her

He teased “awwww you did that for me you must really love me” Risha smirked rolling her eyes

She leaned forward “don’t flatter yourself or I’ll be forced to divorce you” Gacen chuckled right back to their old routine

He faked surprise “you wouldn’t dare” Risha chuckled to herself clearly happy to have her ‘dumbass’ back

Risha winked “oh just watch me” she pulled him in close for what he assumed would’ve been a snide comment but as she did her face softened and she just hugged him tight

Gacen hugged her back “aw Rish I guess we can’t quite go back to what we were, a few things have changed after all” she nodded squeezing him tight “it’s ok it’s ok though I promise I won't turn this off ok” She let him go wiping her eyes and smiling

She punched him playfully “you better not we can’t have anything bad happening to the future Queen's husband” Gacen smiled at her laughing to himself what an odd nickname

He tested his comm “testing one two, ‘Rish...loves... me’ you getting that ‘best...I am…the...best” Risha put her hand on her forehead

She chuckled “I’m already regretting giving you that but yes it does work” she tests her own “and you should be able to hear this ‘No...he...isn’t’” Gacen gasped comically as she spoke

He smiled “well it seems to work Rish” he looked out the window “has M4-SK prepared the ship” Risha nodded following him to the door “and he understands his ‘role’ right he seems eccentric even for a droid” Risha shrugged holding onto his hand

She sighed “I dunno probably he may be weird but he gets really in character so is much more reliable if he gets caught just don’t give him too much backstory or he’ll try to work it in” Gacen made a mental note to avoid that

Gacen took her hands and smiled “thanks Rish I promise I’ll be back in a flash with Sumalee” he pulled her into a long kiss after which neither really wanted to let go holding each other for a few minutes

Risha eventually broke away “well you best be back soon I have other things I need you for” Gacen gave her a quizzical flirty look “I don’t mean that! I mean other missions, come on Gacen that stuff goes without saying” Gacen chuckled squeezing her hands before turning to walk to the ship

Once in the cockpit he turned on the comm link leaning against the wall “hey girl I hear your home alone want some company” a long elongated sigh came back through with what sounded like a stifled laugh as well

Risha tutted “you are the worst I swear” Gacen strolled to the cockpit and sat down in the pilot's chair

He responded “yeah but I’m your worst it’s too late to back out now you admitted how cute you find me” M4-SK looked at him quizzically but didn’t press the issue

Risha groaned “are you gonna be like this the whole trip” Gacen knew what the answer was but just whistled innocently…

Later they were coming up on Wayland and M4-SK had been asking questions “if I may I’d like to know a little more about my character” Gacen had done his best to avoid answering questions so far but he couldn’t hold out forever

Gacen groaned “you’re a protocol droid for me a travelling mystic” he gestured to the robes he was wearing that vaguely resembled the Jedi robes he’d seen during his time in the republic

Risha came through the comms “ooo wow what a mysterious hermit of course he has magic powers why not show me a few” Gacen rolled his eyes she’d been making fun of his outfit non stop

M4-SK rubbed their chin “yes I’m aware but do you really think people will buy you as a mystic what if I played the mystic” Gacen frowned at him what was so unconvincing about that

He put his hands on his hips “um first of all rude and second of all droids can’t do magic it’s literally impossible” M4-SK tutted clearly disagreeing

He continued “maybe in your small minded universe but in the acting world anyone can be anything” Gacen had a look of disbelief on his face and leaned back whispering into the commlink

He asked “does he have any idea this isn’t a play?” why of all the droids was he stuck with this one

Risha responded equally unsure “Honestly I don’t know I’ve told him over and over but he just seems to ignore me so eventually I just gave up” Gacen sighed of course

He sat back up “hmmm maybe a good idea as an experiment but for now we need to nail this so I’ll play the mystic” M4-SK shook his head going back to co-piloting

He tutted “fine but it’s your funeral when the reviews come in” Gacen just decided to ignore him as the planet of Wayland came into view, it was a mainly mountainous planet with many trees dotted around and as they brought the ship down they found there was a decent number of inhabitants they landed close by and soon encountered the Crystal skinned humanoids.

After a quick translation from M4-SK and a crude drawing of a togrutas montrals they were directed towards a mountain with a flat plateau in the side of it, overall it seemed promising now it was just about convincing Sumalee to come with him

As he walked up the mountain he continued to talk to Risha “so why do you think Sumalee came here I thought she was a respected member of the jedi” Gacen put his hand up against the wind as it blew his cloak back he felt very out of his element

Risha responded quickly “I’m not quite sure apparently it’s one of those ‘strong in the force planets” Gacen got that vibe he wasn’t sure why “and you know she was never really the most ‘by the code’ Jedi” that was true

Gacen smiled “I mean she knew us that’s pretty not by the book” she had given them far too many favours and pardons over the years

Risha agreed “exactly it may just be that she wanted to strike out on her own” Gacen guessed that was possible

He shook his head “well let’s just hope that she’s more agreeable to smugglers named Gacen than before” Gacen hoped so anyway he didn’t ever appreciate being on the wrong end of a lightsaber

He made his way up the mountain and by the end his feet were as sore as can be he was not a climber, he leaned on the stick he’d found to use as a walking stick. “Yes I made it oh my god I’m so tired” he took a moment to rest

Risha teased him “oh you poor thing whatever will you do” Gacen rolled his eyes looking up at the rest of the Plateau

He saw at the end there was a figure floating in the air seemingly meditating, he recognised the montrals and hoped this had all been worth it.

She turned and lowered herself to the ground “you have come here seeking answers mystic? Well go ahead ask away” she lifted her hood revealing the red skin of Master Sumalee

Gacen gritted his teeth ready “well not exactly” he took his own hood off with a cheesy grin “I actually came here seeking you, what’s up girl how’ve you been” Sumalee’s expression dropped

She sighed “oh fuck” she strode towards him “what do you want Gacen and if you’re going to ask me where Risha is I don’t know” she folded her arms and turned away

Gacen held the back of his neck “weeeeeelll I actually may have the answer to that question” Sumalee turned around her face softening “and I’ll tell you if you listen to my proposition” Sumalee seemed to consider it for a few seconds

She took a long pause “you get five minutes otherwise I throw you off my mountain” Gacen nodded that seemed fair, he’d have to talk fast...

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midnightartemis · 4 years ago

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~Chapter Seven~

Read Me Here

TW: Mentions of abuse, Drug Use

He’s been running since Han died. He ran to college. Partied and fucked off and barely passed classes. And when that had stopped feeling like running he ran away from that too. Away from his mother. Away from anywhere, he had to be Ben Solo. But when she ran, he ran after her. It should scare him, the way he’s falling for her so fast, so completely, but right now it doesn’t. Maybe he’s just running again. Escaping into the one thing he could drown in if she let him.

They find the loft almost exactly how they left it with Trudge and Ushar yelling at each other over their game. AP sits on the couch beside them quietly packing a hit for her as if he knew exactly when they’d get back. His eyes flicker up briefly to take in Rey. Her hand in his. The sweaty look of them both. The man’s eyes don’t linger for long. Instead, he reached down and pulled out a packed blue backpack more held together by duct tape than the actual stitching.

“You got my stuff?” Rey’s hand slipped from Ben’s.

He went to Plutt’s?

AP nodded. “You’re not going back there. I left a trail pointing north in case someone tries looking for you.

“Thank you,” Rey muttered quietly, clutching the bag to her chest. AP only nodded as he caught Ben’s eye. It was a warning and a promise at once. A warning to not hurt Rey. To not do something stupid like go after Plutt. And a promise that she would be safe. Those things would get taken care of.

If they were going to end Plutt, they had to do it right. Rey couldn’t get caught in the crosshairs.

Ben nodded. As Rey sat in her spot on the couch, AP packed up and turned in for the night. He leaned against the wall watching her as she expertly sucked in a breath of smoke and exhaled slowly, sending rings of smoke drifting into the air. He could watch her for hours. Instead, Ben stepped into the kitchen and poured himself a drink. Bartending was about the only thing he missed about college and one of the few skills Leia had taught him.

He sipped the Corellian whiskey slowly, savoring the taste. It was about the only thing that Corellia ever got right. It wasn’t hard for his eyes to drift over to Rey, to watch her as she blew dozens of perfect rings into the air.

Trudge and Ushar burst from their spots on the couch, screaming at each other in rapid Spanish as they argued over the screen. Rey huffed and picked up something from the floor. She lobbed it at the projector and the soft object bounced off of it, hitting it just barely hard enough for the projector to go dark. The yelling stopped as the twins turned to look at her. Rey waved a hand. “Acuéstate. Ahora.”

The boys stared at her and Rey raised an eyebrow. “Now!”

With grunts of protest, the two slunk off to their rooms leaving just him and Rey. She was more a leader than he ever was. She didn’t even try. It should have bothered him, but he felt anything but that. He only felt that he should get on his knees and worship her until she was cumming against his lips.

He approached her softly. Her eyes locked with his. The taste of her was still fresh on his lips. He could see a million thoughts race through her head. A flash of panic mixed with uncertainty mixed with want.

Slow. Ben took a deep breath. He was far too volatile. Far too broken. Far too at risk of burning them to the ground before they even started. “I can sleep on the couch.”

Rey bit her lip, mulling it over in her head. “I don’t mind… We can share a bed again. If you want. Like last time?”

Ben nodded, keeping his face as neutral as he could. Some of the desperate happiness made its way to his lips. He turned away and ran a hand through his hair. “Are you tired? I have been working on my Mario Kart skills.”

Rey’s face lit up. “You’re on.”

She jumped over the back of the couch and set up the projector and Wii. Ben caught the remote she tossed to him. “Do you have a preference?”

He shook his head, trying to not let his dorky smile overtake him as she sat down on the couch beside him. She semi faced him, her feet tucked up underneath her as she expertly set up the game for five rounds on random courses at the fastest speed. When it came time to choose characters, Ben clicked on Daisy before she could and the room went quiet.

Rey stared at him, her mouth slightly parted. “You can’t- you can’t do that.”

Ben chuckled, taking in the lost and slightly pissed off look on her face. “I’m pretty sure I can choose whatever character I want, sweetheart.”

“But,” Rey’s lips parted and shut several times, the words never quite leaving her lips. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re an asshole.”

Ben grinned, letting his smile take over. She’s cute when she’s pissed off. “I know.”

It was only when she chose Yoshi with his Mach Bike that he realized Rey played for keeps. Rey grinned wickedly. “How about we up the stakes?”

He had died and gone to the afterlife. He was sure of it. There was no way the girl of his dreams was offering to up the stakes. “What do you have in mind?”

“Lose a round, lose an item of clothing.”

Or we can just skip past this.

Ben swallowed. His heart raced as Rey glanced over at him. There was a tinge of red in her cheeks and he was sure that his ears were the same. “Five rounds right?”

Rey nodded.

“They can’t all be Rainbow Road.” Ben watched Rey try to hide her grin.

“Fine. We can do random. If you insist on fairness.” She glanced at him, her eyes light and mirthful.

Ben wasn’t sure if he had ever been so torn between winning and losing. “You’re on.”

Rey hit play.

Ben groaned as Rainbow Road popped up anyway. “I swear if you have this game rigged.”

Rey giggled as the countdown ticked down. He’s too distracted by her smile to get the countdown boost but refuses to give up even when he falls off the road for what feels like the 100th time. She comes in second place when he comes in last. One-nothing, Rey.

Rey bites her lip as she looks over at him with a nervous grin. “You lost.”

Ben looked down at himself. “Do socks count as one or two?”

“One.” Rey blushed, the color rising in her cheeks as she watched him.

Ben peeled off his socks and tossed them blindly towards his room. He sticks out his feet and wiggles them. “There.”

The next round, a last-second blue shell took Rey out and Ben sped past her.

One-one.

Rey striped her shoes off. No socks.

He tries not to take a mental note of how many items of clothing she has on and fails miserably. Four. At least. One more than him, which usually he would say was an unfair advantage. Ben was having a hard time complaining at the moment.

He was so distracted that Rey laps him before he even moves from the finish line.

“Come on, grandpa. I thought you said you were going to give me some real competition.” Rey nudged him with her elbow and immediately went sliding off the tree trunk turns of Maple Treeway. “Shit.”

The race times out before he even crosses the finish line. Without hesitation, he strips off his shirt and throws it at his door. Rey makes a small noise, color rising to her cheeks as she looks away from him as fast as she can. As the next race counts down, he catches her glancing over at him, her eyes lingering on his bare skin.

He knew he said they should wait. Go slow. But it was hard to think like that with her darkening eyes and the lip between her teeth.

He gets the countdown boost and zooms off around DK Summit. It’s one of his favorite courses and he comes in second when Rey hits a banana peel and falls to fifth.

Two-two.

“Next one wins it.” Ben glances at her, trying to get a read. “You don’t have to-”

Before he can finish, Rey pulls off her shirt, leaving her in a black lacy bralette. She tosses it towards the bedroom. Ben sucks in a breath and looks away as heat floods his keeps and the tips of his ears. He shifts uncomfortably, trying to adjust himself in his pants without her noticing.

Ben stared at the screen, trying to ignore Rey beside him. It’s impossible to not look when her skin glows in the soft light and he spots the smattering of freckles across her bare shoulders. He wants to know how they taste. He wants the little whimpers to fall from her lips for him when he kisses down her neck.

Rey catches him looking, but Ben doesn’t look away. Not even as the countdown hits zero and the race around Delfino Pier begins. Rey raises a brow, a challenge. “You have to win if you want to see more.”

She was trying to kill him, he was sure of it.

Her hands shook as she tried to concentrate on the last race. Even with a head start, it wasn’t her finest moment. She was half-baked, head in the clouds, subtle euphoria. Ben’s eyes traced hotlines over her skin. She shivered at the memory of his touch on the hood of his car.

It was stupid how much she trusted him when she barely knew him. But somehow she knew– he felt it, too.

One-touch and all she wanted was more.

Ben had caught up to her, racing along just behind her as she took the sharp corner to the finish line to end lap two. Last lap. Did she lose and take her pants off? Did she win and let him take his pants off? Would things from the car continue? She wanted them to. She never wanted to be touched so badly as she did by him. Only him. Did he want to touch her? She knew she wasn’t much to look at and with the bruises...

Rey froze as she crossed the finish line, so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized how close she was. Ben crossed the line seconds after her.

The bruises. She hadn’t covered the ones over her ribs. Some of them were still an ugly purple. Rey pressed her fingertips lightly to the darkest one and winced.

“Rey?”

She wraps her arms around her center. He’d be so angry at her leaving. She had no idea what Plutt might do once he realized she was gone. He could report her missing, but then he’d miss out on his checks. There was a home check soon, too. He could make up some horrible lie about her stealing from the shop. The cops could find her and send her right back to him.

“Rey, look at me. Please.”

All life had done was take and take and take from her until she had nothing left to give. She was so tired and so angry and so done. She only wanted one thing for herself. She only wanted to feel less alone again.

“I don’t want you to get upset.”

She risked a glance at him, expecting pity. She only found concern and worry in those dark furrowed brows.

“Why would I get upset?”

She tried to get the words out. Her throat seemed to clamp down on them before they could pass through to her lips. She’d never talked much. To anyone. “It’s-” She swallowed. “I can’t-”

He seemed to understand what she was trying to say. His eyes were soft as he gently asked in that calming tone, “Can you show me?”

Rey stood, her hands shaking as she slipped off her shorts and stepped out of them. She turned to face him and held her hands in fists at her sides to stop them from shaking. With a deep breath, she looked at him.

Ben hadn’t moved from the couch. His hands gripped tightly around the Wii controller as the finish line music played in the background. She could tell he was angry by the twitch in his cheek, the fire behind his eyes. She spent her whole life trying to keep people from being angry. Angry people took their anger out on her.

So why then did she feel completely safe with this boy who was just barely more than a stranger? It terrified her. It should terrify her. She should be running, kicking and screaming and biting like she always had. Until now.

“Please… Say something.” His eyes had not left the myriad of bruises across her skin. Some were old and yellowed and faded, others new and black or purple, some in-between.

“What do you want me to do?” Ben’s dark eyes met hers. “Whatever you want done to him, I will make sure it happens.”

Something dark and dangerous inside her purred. The very thing that screamed out for vengeance with every blow. The wild, feral thing she kept inside of her, born out of the desert. Rey nodded.

Two bangs sounded on the loft door. Ben turned to look at it before looking back at her. “Go hide.”

Rey gathered her things quickly from the floor and went into Ben’s room leaving the door open just barely a crack. She could see just a sliver of the front door and Ben’s body moving to stand behind it and undo the lock. The door slid open a fraction. She couldn’t see who it was beyond Ben, but a low unfamiliar voice spoke. It was too low for Rey to hear over the Wii and a moment later, the door slid shut. Ben locked it and Rey backed away from the door towards the bed. She was still just wearing her underwear and bralette, so she picked up a dark t-shirt off the floor and threw it on.

Nothing sounded better than a shower.

Rey opened the bedroom door and slipped out to see Ben standing at the kitchen counter, a glass of whiskey in one hand, and what looked like a burner phone in front of him. His head was somewhere else now.

“What’s wrong?”

Ben shook his head after a moment. “Nothing. Just business.”

That was something she was used to hearing. Usually from AP. “Okay. Imma take a shower.”

Ben raised a brow. His frown instantly replaced with a smirk. Rey rolled her eyes. “I swear to the gods, if you say something like ‘Can I join?’ it will only confirm everything I first thought about you.”

Gods she wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.

“And what would that be, sweetheart?”

“You’re a condescending, cocky asshole. That’s what.” Rey crossed her arms over her chest. This is what she needed to get her mind off of everything. Ben gave her a shit-eating grin, looked her up and down, and licked his lips.

“You don’t seem to mind, do you?”

Rey lost the battle of hiding her smile and turned into the bathroom. “Fuck off, Kylo Ren.”

“So was that an invitation?” He called after her.

“In your dreams.” Rey shut the bathroom door. The room was spacious and probably could be a decent bathroom, but from the looks of it the boys hadn’t cleaned it since they moved in. There were bottles full, half-gone, and completely empty of two-in-one all the way up to six-in-one. She took a deep breath and tried to push down her deep instinct to clean everything. She was not their mother. She was a roommate. And if they thought having a girl roommate would mean they could fuck off even more, she’d throttle them.

She got the shower going and stripped off her clothes before stepping under the scalding water. That was another plus about the loft. The boiler was meant for a whole apartment complex, so there was always hot water and good water pressure. The heat soaked into her skin and Rey took in a deep breath of steam. There was no one to hurt her here. She was safe. She had Ben and AP and Ushar and Trudge. Plutt barely knew she hung out at the skatepark. He had no idea where she disappeared to, at least not that Rey knew of.

She still had another year in the system. Another year of either getting caught and being placed elsewhere or looking over her shoulder at every turn, waiting for the system to knock on her door. As she stood under the hot water and bowed her head to let the streams pound against her shoulders, she realized that she didn’t want to be caught again. If they caught her they would ask her why she ran and she would tell them about Plutt. And even if they didn’t believe her, she wouldn’t go back. They’d put her in a home or finally ship her back to Jakku or god knows where. She’d lose the Knights. She’d lose Ben.

Rey frowned and this newfound attachment that throbbed against her heart and pulled strings at her gut. She never got attached. Never let herself let her guard down. Not once since she learned not to. Not once since she stopped crying and realized that they were never coming back for her.

Ben did.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you from the moment I first saw you.”

She hadn’t stopped thinking about him either. About the first time she saw him. About how he looked at her so intensely with a little bit of desperation. About how he let her touch him, the feeling of waking up in his arms. The cheeky little grin he liked to show her, one that she was certain no one else got to see.

It was strange- wanting to touch and be touched in return. She’d never felt it with anyone before. Never wanted to be held. To hold. To kiss and grab and pull.

The thought of him pulling her close of his lips hot on her skin and gentle hands had her wishing they hadn’t stopped on the car. Wishing that he would slip through the bathroom door and join her. She knew he wouldn’t until she asked.

Rey found an almost empty bottle of shampoo and a bottle of conditioner that was at least three years old but made due with them. She sniffed through the body washes (well, the strange 2-in-1s and 5-in-1s) and paused on the one that-oh, yes- definitely smelled like Ben. She sniffed it for far too long when she knew she had the real thing waiting for her. She poured some in her palm and washed her skin before finishing up. She dried off quickly and threw on Ben’s shirt and her underwear. Anxious energy built up in her chest as she towel-dried her hair. Ben was just on the other side of the door. Did she want to pick up where they had left off? Did he? Did he even want damaged goods?

Rey took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom. Ben stood exactly where she left him, though the glass beside him was empty now. He braced himself against the counter as he looked down at the phone. Mario Kart music still played in the background. Rey shut off the Wii, then the projector, and the loft fell into a soft silence that pulled Ben from his reverie. She held out her hand to him and smiled as his face relaxed and his lips quirked into a grin.

“Come to bed.”

#reylo fanfiction #rey x ben #kylo x rey #reylo ao3 #ben solo deserved better #reylo fanfic

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coruscantexpat · 5 years ago

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Bonds Unbroken - Chapter 21: Home Again

Meetra felt the heavy thud of the Ebon Hawk’s landing beneath her feet as she strode down the corridor from the starboard dormitory. She’d spent most of her time there in the last week since they’d left Telos, due both to her exhaustion and the tension on the ship. The Handmaiden rarely emerged from the cargo hold, but when she did, Atton and Bao-Dur would practically flee the common areas until she returned. Meetra hadn’t even seen Kreia since their departure. Every time she’d thought to check in on her, she’d felt an overwhelming unease, perhaps not entirely her own. If the old woman wanted to be left alone, Meetra would respect that.

As she passed through the main hold, she kept her eyes averted from the rust-colored droid standing in the small storage compartment. Discovered shortly after takeoff, Meetra and Atton had wanted to jettison it due to the uncomfortable resemblance to the HK-50s, but T3 wouldn’t hear it. Though reluctant, the little droid was adamant they leave the doppelganger where it was, and despite her misgivings, Meetra agreed. It was nonoperational anyway, though T3 suggested it could be restored with replacement parts.

“Thing’s the galaxy’s most terrifying scarecrow.” Atton emerged from the corridor to the cockpit and fell into step beside her, grimace still in place as he looked away from the droid. “Still don’t understand why the little trash can wouldn’t let us space it.”

“He said it’s a ‘friend,’ although he didn’t sound entirely confident.” Meetra frowned as she recalled T3’s explanation. Her Binary was near-fluent, but some of the more complex translations still gave her a little trouble. “‘Friend’ might be too strong… perhaps ‘ally’ is closer.”

“Oh, so like Kreia. Or the Snow Princess.” He made a face. “Droid Kreia. There’s a fear I didn’t know I had.”

“Don’t start,” Meetra warned, but she returned his grin. “How’s your arm?” After much grousing, she’d finally relented and allowed him to remove the sling the day before.

“It’s fine. Look —” He lifted the arm and rotated it for proof, though Meetra noticed the full range of motion had not completely returned. “Trust me, this is nothing.” Recalling the scars crossing his torso, she knew he was serious, joking tone aside. Atton brought his hand to the back of his neck, a gesture she’d come to associate with discomfort. “So… you’ve been to Dantooine before, right?”

“I grew up there.” She left it at that, and he didn’t press. “... but I haven’t been back since before my trial.” The thought brought back memories, both painful and pleasant, and she shied away from them. It felt like they belonged to a different person now.

Bao-Dur was at the workbench when they entered the garage, T3 at his feet. A new remote droid circled his shoulders and let out a sharp chirp at the sight of them. The Zabrak turned, sharp canines displayed in his welcoming smile. “On your way out to Dantooine, General?”

“Actually, I stopped by to see if you wanted to go with us.” Meetra didn’t see the sharp glance Atton gave her at the0- last word, or the small smile that tugged at his mouth.

Bao-Dur didn’t answer immediately; instead, he glanced back to the mess of circuitry and wiring on the workbench. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d prefer to stay here for now. I had my fill of excitement on Telos.” His grin returned. “Besides, there’s something I wanted to work on; a surprise initially, but I’m afraid I’ll need your help with it after all.” He rooted among the pile and produced the lightsaber component Chodo had gifted her. “I hope you don’t mind, General — I found it in your bag when I was looking for a medpac. I know your lightsaber was… well, I thought you might want to construct a new one, and I wanted to offer my assistance.”

Meetra eyed the cylinder like it was a fanged viper. To have a lightsaber again, to build a new weapon to her specifications — the temptation was strong. But so was her upbringing. “It’s a Jedi’s weapon, Bao-Dur. I don’t…” She struggled to find the words. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful for the offer, but she wasn’t sure it was a weapon she should, or even could wield again.

“It might make us even more of a target,” Atton offered when she fell silent. “I mean, sure, having a lightsaber to wave around would solve a lot of problems, it would also make the Exchange’s job a lot easier.”

“A fair point.” Bao-Dur returned the piece to the workbench, seemingly unperturbed. “However, if you change your mind, my offer still stands, General. The only thing I need are the remaining parts and your expertise.”

“I’ll think about it,” she promised and reached out to squeeze his arm. He laid a hand over hers, mouth turned up in a small smile, before returning to his project. Meetra waved for Atton to follow, and they resumed their walk toward the loading ramp, only to pause when T3 followed, beeping, in their wake. “Meetra knelt to put herself on the droid’s level. “You sure? It could be dangerous.” His indignant chirp pulled a laugh from her as she stood. “Alright, fair enough. I guess we have a third.”

“It's coming with us?” Atton scowled down at T3, who issued a rude buzz in return. “Tin can’ll probably get a rock in its treads as soon as we’re off the ramp.”

“He survived Peragus and Atris — I think he can take care of himself.” T3 extended his taser and flamethrower attachments and waved them to back up her claims. “I’ll take all the help you can offer, T3.” He chirped, pleased, and rolled past them toward the loading ramp. Meetra followed, Atton, still grousing, at her heels.

The setting sun hit them full force as they left the ship, and Meetra raised a hand to shield her face while her eyes adjusted. She registered the smell next, and her knees suddenly felt weak. Beneath the ship exhaust floated the thick grassy scent of Dantooine’s fields, spiked with the barest hint of lavender. The smell had haunted her dreams since leaving twenty-six years ago, and for a moment, she let herself pretend she never had. The breeze blew another whiff of lavender past her, cutting through the late afternoon heat, and she leaned into it for comfort.

A hand touched her shoulder. “Meetra?” Atton’s voice shattered the illusion, and Meetra pulled herself from childhood memories with a heavy sigh. She lowered her hand and opened her eyes to find him watching her with concern. She gave him a reassuring smile, and he hesitantly removed his hand as she turned to look around.

They had landed at a rudimentary dock, one she didn’t recognize. It still seemed fairly new; either it didn’t see a lot of traffic, or it had been built after Malak’s attack on the planet. The dock was little more than a durasteel pad with enough space for two large ships and heavy retaining walls. No other ships occupied the platform, though a few figures ambled across its surface. One of them, a dark haired woman dressed in a yellow and tan uniform and wielding a datapad like a club, approached. “Name?”

Meetra glanced at Atton quickly, but he only offered a shrug. “Ours, or the ship?”

“I couldn’t care less what your names are.” The woman’s attitude was impressively brusque. “I need to make a log of your arrival. Vessel name?”

“The Ebon Hawk.”

The woman snorted. “Yeah, okay. We’ll go with that. Wouldn’t mention it to the locals, though.” She entered the name into the datapad. “What’s the purpose of your arrival?”

Meetra shared another glance with Atton and opted to conceal their true intentions. “We’re heading to the Jedi Academy.”

“More salvagers huh?” Meetra frowned, but the other woman was focused on the datapad. “Well, you gotta follow protocol like the rest. Nobody sets foot in the ruins without Administrator Adare’s permission.” Finished with the data entry, she turned and pointed at the path leading away from the dock. “Follow that up to Khoonda. Don’t get off the path, unless you like finding yourself ass-deep in kath hounds and raiders.”

“Wait, wait.” The woman scowled at Meetra, her face as severe as the bun on top of her head. “Sorry, I just need a little more information. What’s Khoonda?”

“First time on Dantooine?”

“... Sure.”

The woman shrugged. “It’s as close to city hall as we have around here. It used to be the Matale estate, but the whole family went missing right before the bombardment. The Administrator took advantage of a big empty building and rebuilt it as a new center of government four years ago.”

“That’s Adare?”

“Yeah, Terena Adare. She was the Agriculture Administrator, y’know, before.” She grimaced, and Meetra felt strangely guilty. Even though Malak’s actions had been his own, she still felt responsible for him and Revan. “Adare was the only government official to survive, and she stepped up in a big way. If not for her, this place would be nothing but raiders and wild animals. Well, more than it is now, anyway.” She jerked a thumb toward the path. “Now, no offense, but I’ve got work that needs doing. You want more information, the Administrator can give it to you.” Without waiting for a response, the woman turned away, headed toward the far end of the platform.

“Well, that was pleasant.” Atton glanced around the dock, eyeing the farmers and merchants milling about. “So, are we really wasting time with this Adare lady? You know where the Jedi Academy is, right?”

“I’d rather avoid antagonizing the locals, if possible. Besides, she might know where Vrook…” Meetra trailed off as she caught sight of a battered protocol droid stumbling near the entrance to the dock. His exterior was so scratched and pitted that the original color was indiscernible.

Atton glanced at her, then followed her gaze. “I think we’ve got enough droids for one ship. Maybe one too many.” T3 hissed at the insinuation and rolled closer to Meetra.

“No, I… I think I’ve seen him before.”

“Sure you have. They all look the same. Well, maybe not as run-down.”

“No, I mean —” Meetra shook her head and broke away, heading for the droid. “Never mind.” “Meetra.” When she didn’t turn around, he glanced down at T3 and gestured after her. “Come on.”

They caught up with Meetra as she reached the droid. It took him a moment to react to her presence, an indication of extensive sensor damage. “Salutations, ma’am. I welcome you to Dantooine on behalf of Administrator Adare and Khoonda. How may I be of service?”

“Do…” Meetra hesitated, questioning her own judgement. “Do you know me?”

The protocol droid was silent for a moment, and Meetra could practically feel the heat from his memory core as he struggled to process her question. “Apologies. There are many visitors to Khoonda, and I have no memory of the Sith invasion.”

She stiffened. “‘Sith invasion?’”

He jerked, the light behind his optical sensors flickering. “Resetting… Salutations, ma’am. I welcome you to Dantooine —”

“T3, could I get your help?” The astromech chirped and rolled up next to her while she waited for the protocol droid to finish his greeting. “Were you damaged in Malak’s bombing?”

“I believe I was, though I don’t recall it.” He fidgeted for a moment. “Administrator Adare did her best to find a mechanic, but self-diagnostics still indicate extensive damage to my exterior and memory core.”

“We could try to repair you,” Meetra offered, including both herself and T3 with a gesture. “At least internally. With your permission, of course.”

“Do we have time for this?” Atton muttered behind her, but Meetra ignored him.

The protocol droid glanced nervously between them. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt, but I must warn you that Administrator Adare may be displeased if I am further damaged.”

“We’ll be careful.” He turned so she could access the panel on his back. Meetra swung it open, setting the droid to low power before motioning T3 closer. Atton craned his neck to watch them work. “Care to fill me in?”

“I think he’s an Enclave droid. If I’m right — T3, wire these circuits together, please — he might know where Vrook is. Or at least, what he’s doing here.”

“Besides hiding?”

“Vrook’s smarter than that.” Meetra pulled her hands out of the protocol droid’s chassis to give T3 room to solder safely. “Malak may have bombed the surface, but Dantooine was always known for the Academy. The old man wouldn’t risk coming here if there wasn’t a reason.” T3 let out a sharp tweet and slid back. “Thanks, T3.” She returned the droid’s power to full and closed the panel, waiting until he turned to face her. “Do you know me?”

“Of course.” His voice was suddenly enthusiastic. “So good to see you again, Master Jedi.”

“Hey!” Meetra glanced up sharply. An old man in farmer’s garb approached, his face set in a furious scowl. “What did that droid just call you?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. “It called you a Jedi, didn’t it?! I heard it!”

Meetra opened her mouth, scrambling for an excuse, but Atton’s hand fell on her shoulder as he stepped between her and the farmer. “Do we look like Jedi?” An easy, lopsided grin tugged at the corner of his mouth and he held his arms out loosely to either side; the very picture of friendly and easy-going to the untrained eye, but Meetra noted the stance gave him easy access to his blasters.

The farmer glanced at each of them in turn, taking in their weapons and lack of armor. “Well, no, but… I heard the droid call you Jedi; I know it did.”

“Yeah, but look at it.” Atton chuckled, and the old man answered with a weak laugh of his own. “Busted old clanker probably mistakes someone for a Jedi every other week. Your Administrator should really consider scrapping it if she can’t get it working properly.”

“Been saying as much for nearly a year,” the farmer agreed with a conspiratorial nod. “Sorry, miss. Jedi are a touchy subject for us locals.”

Meetra waved away the apology, grateful for Atton’s quick thinking. “It’s alright. Is it because of Malak?”

“Partly, him and Revan. But truthfully, it’s all of them. If they’re not lifting a finger to defend the Outer Rim from invaders, they’re turning on each other with innocent folk caught in the middle.” He shook his head. “Planet’s a sight better without them, maybe even the whole Rim. Anyway, my apologies again. If you all are headed up to Khoonda, best speak with Captain Zherron, as well as the Administrator. Dantooine’s not as safe as it used to be.” With a last wave, he headed back to the merchant stall he’d stormed away from.

Meetra let out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

Atton nodded, then fixed the Enclave droid with a glare. “That’s not going to work again, so let’s try to keep the ‘J-word’ to minimum, huh?”

The droid bobbed his head. “Of course, sir; I do apologize. It’s just that it’s been so long since I last spoke to a member of the Order. My excitement got away from me.”

Disappointment settled over Meetra’s shoulders. “Then you haven’t spoken to Vrook Lamar.”

“No, not since before Malak’s attack. I fear I have no knowledge of the whereabouts for any member of the Council.”

Atton crossed his arms. “So, what can you tell us?”

The droid started to fidget again. “My apologies, but I’m afraid there is actually very little I am permitted to tell you.”

“And why is that?”

He turned his optical sensors on Meetra. “My apologies, Master, but you are Meetra Surik. You are listed in my records as one of the… initiates who followed Master Dekari into the Mandalorian Wars. I have been programmed to withhold any information pertaining to the Order since your departure.” He bowed his head. “I am sorry, Master; I wish it were not so.”

She managed a weak smile. “Me, too, but it’s not your fault.” Meetra turned and waved for Atton and T3 to follow. “Thank you, all the same.”

“Wait, Master Surik.” The droid hobbled after them. “Since you mention Master Lamar, I have a file in my records involving you both. I don’t know if it will help you, but as it originates before your departure, I can show it to you, if you wish.”

Meetra hesitated, then nodded. “Alright, but lower your volume and keep the projection small.”

“Of course, Master.” The light behind the Enclave droid’s optical sensors flickered and then glowed blue as he projected two figures: a marginally younger Vrook, still balding but less lined, and a small, wrinkled, bat-eared alien. The footage was staticy and the sound quality poor, the words cutting in and out.

Vrook’s voice came in mid-sentence. “... nearly broke my padawan’s arm! Kavar won’t reign her in, no matter how many times I speak to him. You have to step in, Vandar.”

“Your concern is noted, but she is not your responsibility.” Meetra’s heart lurched at the sound of Vandar’s voice. The old Jedi had always projected a calmness that put everyone at ease. “She is headstrong, but —” A burst of static erased the rest of his words.

“... is uncontrollable. No student… immune.” Vrook was uncharacteristically animated, shaking his head and throwing up his hands. “Half of them love her… them want her head! These emotions she engenders… lead them to the Dark Side! If you and Kavar won’t… do it myself.” The holorecord flickered and dissolved into static, the droid’s sensors returning to their usual yellow.

Atton glanced at Meetra cautiously. “That was about you?” She didn’t answer; she didn’t have one to give.

The Enclave droid watched her closely, his anxiety clear in the way he rocked from side to side. “Forgive me, Master. I hope I have not offended.”

“No, of course not.” She forced a smile. “Thank you; it’s a good reminder.” He nodded hesitantly, then offered a quick half bow before shuffling away. Meetra watched him go, heart heavy, until T3 bumped against her leg with a soft trill. “I’m alright. Thank you, though.” She sighed and looked to Atton, found him watching her. “You’re right - we’re wasting time. Let’s go talk to Adare.”

Atton fell into step beside her as they headed up the path, T3 rolling along on her other side. Out of the corner of her eye, Meetra caught Atton glance at her, then look away and back again before he spoke. “So… not a lot of love lost between you and this Vrook guy, huh?”

She let out a dry chuckle. “That’s one way to put it. Vrook was one of Revan’s biggest detractors; those of us who followed her were little better than Sith, as far as he was concerned.” Her smile faded. “Part of me wonders if he was right.”

“Well, I don’t know much about Jedi, but I don’t think he was right. About you, at least.” She smiled again, a genuine one this time, and he glanced away before she saw the extent of his feelings. “The other Jedi that droid mentioned, though… who was that?”

“Vandar? He was headmaster at the Academy.”

“No, the other one it talked about. Who’s Master Dekari?”

Meetra tensed, her pleased smile flattening into a thin line. “Her name wasn’t always Revan.” She quickened her pace, and Atton let her pass him without further comment. The completeness with which she’d shut down was startling, and he worried anything more would drive her further away. T3 swiveled toward him with an uncertain murmur, then sped up to match Meetra’s pace.

Full chapter on AO3 and FFN.

#KotOR 2 #kotor fanfic #atton x exile #The Jedi Exile #Female exile #atton rand #T3-M4 #bao-dur #terena adare #zherron

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callistawolf · 7 years ago

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my thoughts on Arrow 6x18

I was excited for this episode and it turns out there was good reason. I might just start trusting Steve when he gets hyped over episodes now, he’s building quite a track record. So let’s dive in. I literally took these notes while I was watching so I apologize if they’re a bit scattered.

Okay, Oliver is clearly off the rails. S1-2 suit and all. The man is a wrecking ball.

Wait…where’d he get the old suit? Did he break into evidence lockup? Is that why he’s at the precinct? I HAVE QUESTIONS.

Wait, the lockup didn’t blow up when Siren blew up the previous place did it? I HAVE QUESTIONS, DAMMIT.

Ten hours earlier. Okay. So we learn why he’s nuts. Is it the Vertigo? I bet it the Vertigo.

If anyone can find rock solid proof of crooked city employees, its Felicity.

BAD COP CASTLE. LOL. Felicity is right. He can’t go in alone. Cuz that’s just INSANE.

LOLOLOL. “I parent trapped you” BLESS YOU FELICITY. Yes, boys, get over your damn egos already.

“You keep that attitude you’re gonna end up all alone” LISTEN, don’t feed this boy’s fears, Dig!

Felicity KNOWS that Oliver is trying, DIGGLE. C’mon, man. FEEDING HIS FEARS. Stoppit!

“If I get impeached, you get promoted” OH SHIT, yeah if Oliver is impeached, Quentin is DEAD. You know what happens to mayors who aren’t Oliver in this town.

God bless Quentin being on his side. Saying all these nice things... Oh yeah the man is dead.

SHE HACKED NAPSTER FOR HER SCIENCE FAIR PROJECT LOL

RAISA AND FELICITY INTERACTED. There is a god! It’s been 84 years!

See I told y’all Felicity would have proof. Oh… but its implicating him. WAIT. STOP YELLING AT YOUR WIFE FOR HELPING YOU. Duuuuude.

Oh this scene. Yeah, he’s totally hallucinating this.

The best part is that the writers have done such a MASTER JOB of writing characters OOC this season that we honestly can’t tell if Oliver is hallucinating or if this is something Felicity is REALLY saying

That said we SAW the Vertigo last ep folks. This isn’t rocket science.

What is that tapping noise he keeps hearing? Is that the Vertigo? The heralding of a hallucination?

“My wife wants a separation” DONT MAKE ME SOB, OLIVER. Also she so doesn’t. It’s so sad that he believes this, he EXPECTED this.

I find it touching that he chooses Quentin to confide in here. His subconscious is kinda beautiful sometimes.

So he thinks he hasn’t changed at all? Or he doesn’t. Cuz Quentin is pep talking him but its HIM thinking this up… SHE LOVES YOU. YES SHE DOES. LISTEN TO YOUR FUCKED UP BRAIN, MAN.

Going to the council meeting hopped up on Vertigo seems a bad idea. So is this a hallucination? Or not? HELP. I HAVE CONFUSION.

THERES THAT NOISE AGAIN

YEAH PROMETHEUS!! But… Oliver… SEE. HE’S DEAD. Get a clue here.

Damn Oliver’s subconscious is kicking his ass. LOL this is such a metaphor. I can’t deal.

So he kills Chase in his subconscious, something he’d evolved past before. But he wants to protect his family. LORD, Oliver you are fucked up.

THERES THAT NOISE AGAIN. Duuuuude I’m starting to wonder if *I’m* losing it. And Adrian. OK, Ollie. This is your clue here that you’re on Vertigo.

DING DING DING give the boy a cookie!

Chase trolling him is classic. I missed this guy so much. (And dude, you couldn’t manage to take ANYONE from him… Sam so doesn’t count)

I have to keep reminding myself this is Oliver’s subconscious.

“Felicity, William and I will be fine.” Of course you will. You’re family.

Interesting… “you’re a better Oliver Queen. But a worse hero.” HERE is the base of his worries. “You’re the one enemy you can’t defeat” Damn your brain is clever, Oliver. But also wrong. STOP HATING YOURSELF.

I MISS THE QUEEN MANSION. This living room isn’t QUITE right though. And fuckouttahere LL.You don’t even look REMOTELY like pre-island LL.

I love Chase literally listing all the reasons LL as BC was a Dumb Thing.

So this is just convincing him he has to do go alone. If people fight with him, they get hurt. They die. Sometimes I think his protective instinct is too strong.

Awww hallucinating Raisa being killed by Dragon… that’s rough. Let’s not go there, show, okay?

SEE yes he wants to do it alone. Don’t listen to Vertigo!Hood, Oliver. The man is off his nut.

For a second there I thought Quentin said “We need to retweet” and I didn’t even think that was an off thing to say. I NEED A NAP.

Okay so the s1-2 suit itself is a hallucination. And it symbolizes his need to do it alone. GOTCHA. I’m all caught up now. Very clever.

Awww cute Felicity and William! She helped him put his project back together. But ohhhh no, she knows Oliver gone of the rails. “He said you kicked him out?” “No! I would never!” I KNEW IT.

LOL at William knowing exactly what Felicity is up to and bringing her sneakers. And holy cow he IS as tall as she is now!

OH NO DID YOU JUST HIT QUENTIN. I HOPE THAT WAS A HALLUCINATION.

RUN FELICITY RUN. Hey, that’s the backlot of the studios. LOL. Oh it WAS QUENTIN, not a hallucination. Oliver, you’re in big trouble.

She’s very brave, going after him when he’s like this. And awww at her talking him down. “What happens to William?” “William has you.” “What happens to ME?” BLESS.

“I’m glue, baby.” SHE CALLED HIM BABY. IM DYING.

Yes, listen to your wife. She’s your life partner. You can’t get rid of her. “Listen to your heart.” AWWW THIS IS SO SWEET.

YAY OLICITY STUNT! ITS BEEN 84 YEARS. Yep, I’m watching this whole thing again tomorrow (today, when this is posted)

Felicity went to raves. Felicity did drugs. ITS CANON. WRITE THE FICS, FANDOM. FELICITY MEETS OLIVER AT A RAVE.

So the suit is REAL? I have my questions again!! WHERE DID IT COME FROM.

I don’t like him going alone, but I DO like him saying that he’s not giving up on Felicity and William.

WELP there we go. Impeached. Saw that coming. Buncha boogers. Quentin is mayor! He’s toast.

Firing Overwatch. AWW. I mean I get why he’s doing it but… fighting Diaz alone is the opposite of what he needs to do. But I’m glad he’s apologizing to William.

AWW Felicity and William are most important to him! More than ANYTHING. I love this family.

Siren wants Diaz to kill Oliver… hows that redemption working for y’all? I can’t believe loliver is less toxic than Siren/Oliver. 😂

Okay, I have some more thoughts, especially now that I’ve had all night to think about this. So I’m throwing in a cut.

While I’m not fond of Oliver choosing to go alone, I get why he’s doing it. It’s a plot point they’ve been angling towards, to be sure. But also I think they outlined why in this episode. Because what Dig said to him about being a poor leader has gotten to him and he really is wondering if it’s true. Things are piling up and what is falling by the wayside? What can he let fall by the wayside? One thing was made clear in this episode, what he cannot let fail is his family. Felicity, William... they are his priority above pretty much everything. He needs to save the city, absolutely, but not at the cost of his family. Oliver sees going alone as a way to save his family. Now, he’s wrong, of course.

Remember all those interviews that have hinted at Oliver learning how to ask for help? How Emily herself has mentioned that? I think thats the big lesson here. He’s having a hard time juggling all his responsibilities, which means he has to learn how to relinquish control to others, to trust them to help him, to trust them to do what needs to be done to help him, to help the city. I’m willing to wager that in the weeks ahead, given what we’ve learned about the final eps of the season, the court case and all of that... that Felicity might be instrumental in organizing some help for Oliver. I think she might be the one to call in Human Target. But we shall see.

But something else... Diaz wanted Oliver to fall for the trap but Felicity thwarted that. Felicity said that their identities are safe but LOL... There’s zero chance that Diaz won’t find out that she’s the one, the ONLY ONE who can pull Oliver back. So what happens to Felicity when Diaz realizes she the barrier between him and what he wants?

What’s important here is that Oliver will do whatever he has to save his family, to keep William and Felicity safe. I think Felicity focuses on her company next week because she has to help, the mission is a part of her now, but I think eventually she’s going to push her way back onto Oliver’s team. Because he needs her. And maybe she’ll bring the rest of the team back together. But that’s all *~*later*~* because for now, things are gonna start getting sooooo very real in the weeks ahead and I’m really really really ready for it.

#olicity #arrow recap #Arrow 6x18 #6x18: Fundamentals #arrow spoilers #my recap #ship: Olicity #character: Oliver Queen #character: Felicity Smoak #show: Arrow

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ncfan-1 · 7 years ago

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Rewriting Malachor V

If you’ve played KOTOR II like I have, especially if you’ve played it more than once, the Malachor V stage, which was atmospheric and appropriately creepy on first play, gets a bit… tedious on replays, especially if you’re playing without the Restored Content Mod. It doesn’t feel like a stage the way the other planets do. It just feels like an endless boss fight that drags on and on and on, with little to punctuate it, and it just gets… boring. What’s worse is that, while the companions do get a couple of moments to shine, they aren’t allowed to do very much, which given the amount of emphasis the game puts on the Exile’s relationships with these people and on their importance in general, really isn’t good. And I understand that a lot of this is a natural consequence of the fact that Obsidian just wasn’t allowed the time they needed to finish this game, but I’ve thought of some ways the Malachor V stage could be made more interesting, could put more focus on the companions, and be made to feel more like a planetary stage the way the others were.

This post assumes an LS Exile (Since I’ve never played the Exile DS and the idea of doing so holds no interest for me). Also, since I’ve only played as a female Exile, I’m wary of modding my game too much, and I have no interest in playing as a male Exile, I have relatively little familiarity with Brianna. I know about her, don’t get me wrong, I’ve read through the Jedi Jesus Let’s Play and I’ve seen other posts about her, but while I can think of a couple of ways she could contribute here, there are probably other people who could think of more things for her to do here. So, with that in mind:

First, some general notes:

- The enemies you encounter on the surface of Malachor V should be diversified. If the game really wants us to believe that the planet is still inhabitable after everything that happened to us, there should be more than one type of hostile animal on the surface. There should also be, like, Sith outposts or listening posts on the surface of the planet, where they monitor the skies for any evidence that hostile ships have come to attack the Academy. The hierarchy of enemies on the surface (excepting Hanharr and the beast you find in the giant pen—more on that later) should go like this:

two or three smaller beasts, with roughly the same toughness as the tuk’ata you find on Korriban -> the storm beasts, which appear more rarely than the smaller beasts, and should probably not be allowed to deal out 100 in damage in one hit -> non-Force-sensitive Sith officers, more common than the storm beasts but less common than the smaller beasts -> Dark Jedi, much less common -> Sith lord, extremely uncommon; you run into maybe two or three of them across the whole surface of Malachor V.

- This is a Doylist gripe and perhaps not entirely realistic from a Watsonian perspective, but when dead enemies drop loot, they don’t drop credits. After all, what’s the point? This is the last stop in the game and it’s not like there’s a merchant here. Instead, the enemies drop (in the case of Force-wielders) lightsabers, armor, robes, useful items, and lightsaber crystals appropriate to the character’s level. Also health packs. Lots and lots of health packs (Though to be fair, they do that already). Some of them drop datapads for mini-quest-relevant information, or other quest items.

So, about Malachor V…:

- First, the prelude. On the way over to Malachor V, while the Exile is sleeping or meditating or something, the non-droid companions have a meeting. Basically, they know that the Exile is planning on heading out to confront Kreia by herself, that she’s trying both to shield them from the danger and trying to draw away from them because even if what the Jedi Masters said to her on Dantooine was myopic, blinded-by-fear-and-ignorance-bullshit, it’s still wormed its way into her head and she’s afraid of unconsciously manipulating her companions—and leading them to their deaths against their will.

But this is a game where free will is important, and if you’re playing as a Light Side Exile, it really doesn’t look as though she’s been psychically dominating her companions. They all have their reasons to go to her and their reasons to stay with her that can’t be explained that way. It’s not as though she hasn’t been influencing them in any way at all—see the conversation she can have with Mira, noting that even though Mira has avowed her refusal to kill, she’s been killing without compunction since joining up with the Exile—but for the most part, this influence is above-board. None of them are at all interested in letting the Exile go it alone on Malachor V.

- The Ebon Hawk crashes on the surface of Malachor V as per canon. While the ship is crashing, the loading ramp is forced open and, while trying to get it shut again, Mira is sucked out of the ship, thus explaining why she wakes up on the ground so far below the Ebon Hawk. Everyone asides from the droids is knocked unconscious in the crash, and wake up at differing points.

- Remote isn’t knocked out and sets out immediately to fulfill Bao-Dur’s orders. In this version, since Remote is heading out before the Exile has the chance to clear the area of any storm beasts, Remote has a bit more combat and defensive capability; Bao-Dur’s upgrades actually amount to something here. It can move faster than in canon, its shots pack a bit more punch (though it’s not the powerhouse T3-M4 can potentially be with his shock arm). Remote still has to sneak past the storm beasts, but the Sith won’t bother with it since it’s just a droid, and it can move fast enough to outrun the smaller beasts on the surface of the planet.

Past this, Remote’s mission plays out the same as in canon. Once it activates all the Republic warships, G0-T0 shows up and menaces it. At that point, HK-47 shows up because G0-T0 needs a killin’ and no way is he going to let anyone else handle that job. The HK-51s show up and, depending on whether HK-47 was able to program them to be loyal to him, he either has to fight them or they fight by his side when killing G0-T0. Upon dispatching G0-T0, HK-47 (and the HK-51s, if they’re loyal to him) heads back to the Ebon Hawk to make sure his escape route is kept safe.

- One by one, the non-droid companions wake up, and they start to carry out their own mini-quests before reaching Malachor V. In this case, each group must disable and/or destroy a Sith outpost they run into on the way to the Trayus Academy. At any point, if anyone asides from the Exile dies, they die permanently. If one member of a party dies but the rest lives, they don’t wake up at the end of the fight. If the whole party dies, you aren’t prompted to reload your last save game; it just skips to the next segment. Obviously, you can go into the load game list and reload your last save game to keep them alive, but I thought this feature might add a bit more weight to what is supposed to be one of the most evil, dangerous places in the galaxy, as well add more weight to the last stage of the game.

- Mira wakes up first, and we get the little cut scene about her commenting on the scenery, before it switches back to the next segment.

- Atton and Mical both wake up at around the same time. Their dialogue as they fight their way across the surface of Malachor might be strained sniping or it might be reflective of a tentative, uneasy camaraderie, depending on the way the Exile has treated them both through the course of the game, how much influence she has with them both, and just how far up the Light Side scale she, and by extension, them, is. When they reach the outpost, there should be an opportunity for some drama. Maybe somebody recognizes Atton as a Sith deserter, or maybe Mical recognizes someone he knew from his time as an initiate at the Dantooine Enclave. They take control of the outpost, and we cut to the next segment.

- Canderous, Visas, and Brianna (if you have her in the party) wake up next. This time, it’s Canderous helping Visas get up, to bookend their last exchange on the Ravager before they blew that ship to hell. Canderous and Visas’s dialogue reflects the camaraderie they formed on the Ravager, reflects their significantly improved relationship, maybe reflects the echoes of Revan Canderous sees in Visas. If Brianna’s in the party, her dialogue with Visas runs along the same lines as the dialogue Atton and Mical can potentially have. They have the opportunity to slice into the computer system in the outpost and with a high enough Computer Use and Security skill, decode some journal entries by the officer in charge of the outpost about transmissions coming from somewhere out further in the Unknown Regions. They blow up their designated outpost, and we cut to Mira’s segment.

- When Mira gets to and takes control of her outpost, she discovers a spaceship with a working hyperdrive in a hangar, and part of her “take over the outpost” mini-quest involves finding a code to get the hangar bay doors open so that the ship could potentially leave Malachor V if needed. This will potentially be important for later, and is a mandatory part of the mini-quest; Mira isn’t allowed to step outside the outpost until she's done this. When Mira steps outside the outpost, she confronts Hanharr as per canon, fighting and defeating him, and convincing him to take her to Kreia.

- When the Exile wakes up, it’s only her, Bao-Dur, and T3-M4 on the ship—HK-47 hasn’t gotten back yet. The Exile wakes Bao-Dur up and orders him and T3 to stay with the ship, because she needs to find the others, and because “[they] need to get away quickly once [her] business [there] is done.”

Malachor V is, for the Exile, like the tomb of Ludo Kressh on Korriban, except even worse. Part of it is the powerful Dark Side energy of the planet, part of it is the Exile’s PTSD, but she’s seeing Force visions (and possible hallucinations; it quickly gets to the point where it’s impossible to tell which is which) everywhere she goes. None of them attack her the way the visions in the tomb did, but she sees Jedi who were at the Battle of Malachor V dying in agony, she sees flashes of Revan masked and cloaked that disappear when she comes close, flashes of Malak whispering promises of power and answers, she sees a faceless figure writing in agony before becoming a void of stars and dark matter and unceasing hunger. And the storm beasts seem drawn to her as if she was emitting some sort of homing signal…

The Sith don’t attack her. Similar to the Sith Assassins outside the Academy doors, they treat her with a level of deference that is frankly disturbing.

- All the Kreia-Sion dialogues play out as they do in canon.

- The beast in the pen outside of the Trayus Academy isn’t a greater storm beast, because part of this rewrite is to inject greater creativity into the Malachor V stage. Instead, it’s a drexl. No, not a drexl larva like what we saw back on Onderon; it’s a full-grown drexl. Now, the drexl isn’t in the best shape, since it’s not in its native habitat and its wings have been clipped to keep it from up and flying away, but it still packs a wallop. Its toughness is roughly equivalent to the greater storm beast of canon; it can do 300 in damage in one hit, but if you’ve buffed your Exile enough you can do like I did and take it down in two rounds.

- The Kreia vs. companions confrontation plays out as in canon, except this time we also have a scene of Canderous trying to disable Academy security, only to be jumped by some of the students. They’re going to kill him, except Sion intervenes and tells them their master wants Canderous thrown in a cell with the others.

- The Atton vs. Sion battle plays out as in canon, with both of the possible outcomes intact.

- The Exile makes her way through the Academy, cutting a bloody swathe through the Sith as she goes. She can slice her way into a computer terminal at some point and read log entries about reports of activity in the Unknown Regions and old attempts on Kreia’s part to find out where Revan went after the events of the first game, all with the shadow of the enemy moving in the dark casting a long shadow over everything.

- Eventually, the Exile makes her way over to the cells where her companions are being kept. Upon freeing them (assuming the Exile doesn’t gas them all, which is an option in the game for reasons I don’t wish to contemplate), she, as per canon, asks Canderous to get them all safely back to the ship. Upon realizing that Atton isn’t with them, she tells the party that she’ll look for him and make sure he gets out safely, and that they shouldn’t wait for either of them.

- Immediately after this segment is done, we cut back to the Ebon Hawk. Bao-Dur and T3 are working on repairs, are almost done getting the loading ramp to close again so the ship can take off without everyone being sucked into space. They are, perhaps, having a conversation in which they express their worries about the Exile, about getting away from here safely; Bao-Dur again expresses his regrets about having caused all of this devastation, regrets that are amplified by being back on the surface of the planet itself. HK-47 (and the HK-51s, depending) returns to the ship just in time to inform Bao-Dur and T3 that a Sith boarding party is en route. Their mission now is to defend the ship and keep it from being taken over or destroyed by the Sith.

This is the point in which the Mira mini-quest with the other ship becomes important. It’s important because if you both fail to keep the Ebon Hawk safe, and Mira dies at any point during the Malachor V stage, you have no way off the planet, and you’re fucked.

If Bao-Dur and company succeed in driving off the boarding party, they decide they need to move the ship to a safer location as soon as they’re done fixing the loading ramp.

- The Exile continues to fight her way through the Academy, looking for Atton and Kreia both. She eventually finds her way to the room where the final Sion encounter triggers. If Atton lost that fight, there’s a big red smear of blood on the floor. The Exile vs. Sion fight occurs as per usual.

- Immediately after the last fight with Sion, we cut back to our party of companions who are desperately trying to escape the Trayus Academy. After many trials and battles, they have finally made it to the back door! …And it’s locked. Nobody can slice their way through. Nobody can blast or cut their way through. The door is sealed. Mical (or Brianna, depending on who you have in your party) determines that the door can only be opened with a Sith holocron, so… fetch-quest!

Yes, our party now has go rooting through everybody’s sock drawers to look for a Sith holocron; the back of the Academy happens to be where everyone’s quarters are. If you’re diligent and you search every room, you can actually find a Jedi holocron secreted away. Mical and/or Brianna takes one look at the thing and goes “…I’m just gonna take this. This really doesn’t need to be here.”

To get into the room where the Sith holocron can be found, you have to correctly answer a logic puzzle. I’m not quite what kind of logic puzzle; I just know this stage could be improved by logic puzzles. When you get into the room, it’s somebody’s quarters, but larger (And the stuff in the room gives the strong impression that these are Kreia’s quarters). There is a large footlocker at the back wall of the room that you can’t answer without answering another logic puzzle, this one harder than the last. But by this point, the team cannot be stopped by a logic puzzle, and they get the Sith holocron.

The team heads back to the back door, only to find Hanharr waiting for them there. He’s irate because Kreia didn’t kill either Mira or him, and he’s still stuck with his life-debt to Mira. When he and Mira fight, even though Hanharr is badly injured, he hits even harder than before and is immune to critical hits. Mira refuses to kill him, but when she’s walking back to the group, Hanharr tries to attack her from behind. Canderous shoots him, and thus ends Hanharr the Wookiee. They plug in the Sith holocron, unlock the back door, and get the hell out of dodge.

- The rest of the end stage proceeds as normal.

All in all, it’s not the same as the other planets we’ve had. I’d say this modified stage has more in common with the Korriban stage than, say, Dantooine or Nar Shaddaa. But it would definitely make the Malachor V stage less of a slog, and make it feel more like a finished stage. And it would give our companions the kind of end-stage focus they deserve.

#Star Wars: KOTOR II #Meta #Star Wars #KOTOR #KOTOR 2 #Malachor V

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swords-guns-blogs · 7 years ago

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One Year Later

Oh, hi there! You may recognize me as a cute cuddly version of your favorite regenerative degenerate. "Hello Deadpool", if you will. If you keep up with those old fashioned paper "kah-micks" that come out month to month, you're probably realizing this is what we in the biz like to call the re-cap page. Because let's face it! Life happens! Sometimes you're all set to write a bunch of replies that help shape a beautiful story about an idiot and his dream of owning a boat and then sometimes you fall off the face of the Earth for an entire year. Point being, it happens, but the story must go on!

Right... The story. Where exactly where we again? Hold on a sec, I need to reread this myself. Don't go anywhere, it'll just take me a seco-JEEZ THEY WRITE A LOT. Entire paragraphs?! Come on. What happened to the good 'ol days when they placed all of their replies in 140 characters or less? I mean the occasional TwitLonger was fine, but this is going to take me forever! [Now might be a good time to reintroduce the "laws" of how you present yourself, Wade]

Nice thinking, Boxy! You see, this is all taking place on a website teenage girls use to blog about their favorite porn and TV show GIFs. [That's not even remotely wh-] And I've been able to take advantage of these blogs and their rich text editors to really convey all the craziness that goes in my noggin. You'll notice that right now, everything is just plain text! Real free form stuff, no fancy bold or italicized effects. This is just me, talking to you [The reader]. Yeah that's right. I actually understand all of this nonsense. I'm well aware that this one guy writes for me [In his image sometimes] and his Canadian sister from another mister is the only one who reads the replies [Bless her]. You might notice the occasional enclosed bracket segment in my monologue as well. Well that's just my thoughts. Now I know what you're thinking, "Wade, I thought these were already your thoughts? Just voiced towards me, the reader?" Well they are! The boxes are just my OTHER thoughts! Sometimes there's only the one [I'm the voice of reason], sometimes I bring in a second one {I like a little crazy!} and if you ever see the dreaded third... It'll be too late for you. I think that just about covers everything! [Actions?] Speak way louder than words, agreed. Especially since these type of words have no sound to them. [... sigh Actions like that. The bold text.] OH! Right! Given how ridiculous my speech is in word form, my lovely writer is fond of using bold words to represent the story. You can consider this when he truly takes over, I don't typically have much say or control of what torture he places on me. {Like the time he blew your nuts off and made you a teenage girl?} Ha, Classic Austin. [You done yet?] Oh yeah, I scarfed the last one down in the middle of all that explaining. [Not lunch, you idiot! The recap. Did you read it all yet?] Eh. I'm gonna wing it. [Oh boy] inhales Maximum Effort. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wade pressed his shoulder against the frame of the wooden porch as he stared out at the morning sun. It was just peaking over for the first time, the pink tones of the clouds only helped the orange of the sun appear to be more vibrant. As a few birds landed on the soft ground in front of the two-story yellow ranch house, a smile crept onto Wade's face. Closing his eyes, Wade took a moment to appreciate the calm sounds of the country air, the birds below picking for worms, and with one deep inhale he took in all of the scents that the warm cup of coffee he had just brewed. As he opened his eyes, he couldn't help but feel that life was just better this way. No worries, no regrets, just a large plot of land, several rows of seasonal crops, a few farm animals to provide the necessities, and of course, her. Wade stepped off the porch and onto the brown stairs that led him to the ground. The birds turned and scurried off to a new patch of grass as Wade walked by. With their new home and new lives came one extra amenity, an amazing view. It had become a morning tradition for Wade, to walk the land that he had cultivated with his bare hands, only to end up at the edge of the mountain the home sat upon. As he pushed through waves of Corn Stalk, Wade couldn't help but turn his head when a couple of crow's began to 'Kaw', that's when he laid eyes on an old familiar face. They had realized really early on that their bird friends were going to take their fair share of the land, so to combat against those Crows who weren't as brave, Wade had built a scarecrow. Standing taller than the stalks of corn, Wade looked up at his old suit and mask. It had been stuffed to the brim with hay and nailed to a board as to give the impression of it being a real person, a Deadpool Scarecrow. No matter what the circumstances were, it always put a smile on his face to see his old work uniform in such display. As he moved past the corn and onto the lettuce patches and tomato vines, Wade could see it. The breathtaking view that had made their decision to move here so easy. You could see the country side for miles, deep rolling hills filled in with lush vegetation and tree lines. Two rivers ran through towards the bottom of the mountain and when it rained, they would always echo the valley with sounds of clean and pure running water. And on the top of all the tree's, just barely peeking over, was that vibrant orange sun. Wade took another drink from his mug, as he let the warm liquid sit in his mouth for an extra second, he tried to take a moment and truly appreciate what his life had turned into. To appreciate all the hard work they had put into their new home. To appreciate the risk, the reward, the fright of change, and the fruits of labor. As his eyes opened back up and he downed the coffee, Wade's ears perked as he heard the front door open up. His head turned back to the house as he spotted her walking out onto the porch, the special cup of coffee he had made just for her in hand. As she leaned over the side of the porch, Wade couldn't help but give a big goofy wave from all the way on the edge of the land. With a smile plastered to his face, he started the walk back to her. No matter how many times they had repeated this exact scenario, Wade never got tired of this feeling. Each step was agony and bliss, as he was forced to be without and her but slowly grew closer. The sooner he had his arms wrapped around her the better. Wade disappeared through the back end of the corn stalks and within a few moments he had emerged the other side using a path he had made forever ago, this always made them both laugh. As Wade stepped out from the corn stalk, he heard her voice "Hello, my love". Wade stopped dead in his tracks. ...Her voice. It wasn't... her voice. That voice was cold... He had heard it before, but not in such a long time... His body was frozen, he couldn't move if he had wanted... So she moved him herself. Wade felt a magical force begin to twist his head, forcing his eyes to turn back to the corn stalks. Soon enough his feet and body followed the magical suggestions, until he was entirely facing the stalks. Her dark magic didn't stop there, one by one each corn stalk began to slowly turn black. Starting at the base of the plant, a black color began to take over and destroy the plant. When the entire stalk had been taken over in darkness, it disappeared into ash, catching itself in the wind. As more and more stalks began to vanish into ash, a hazy black fog began to form. Wade tried to turn his head, he tried to take a step backwards, but he just couldn't. That's when the darkness started to form, enough stalk had vanished that he could make out the Deadpool Scarecrow in the middle of the field and standing next to it was the bone chilling voice he had heard just moments ago. Stepping out from behind the red uniform, covered in ash herself, was none other than Lady Death. Her robe and hair blended in with the dark ash that swirled around the air, only her bright white bones were visible. She had a loving smile on her face as she watched the vegetation die off, her hand drifted along with the wind, taking in every moment. It was as if she was looking at her own impressive mountain view. Only less trees and rivers and there was no vibrant orange sun peaking over... Wade was screaming internally, to the top of his mental lungs. His only thought was the woman behind him... Even if he could turn back and see her, something told him she wasn't there anymore. This was a beautiful dream shifting into a horrid nightmare. "You've made quite the home for yourself, Wade... I always thought this would be the life we would share one day." Wade snarled, again internally, his body was still frozen. No matter how hard he tried to move backwards, he couldn't. Oddly enough, trying all his options, Wade noticed he could move forward. But he was fighting it with everything in his soul. "Well don't just stand there, silly. Get over here!" With a sickening grin, she snapped her fingers. Wade's stomach dropped as he felt his body moving in one fluid motion. Despite being motionless, his frozen frame dug against the dirt and slowly made its way to Death's side. "Wade... I'm getting the feeling you don't want to be with me. Please... Don't tell me there's someone else." Wade felt his head drop, he was losing hope, and her words only made him worry more. "Oh, Wade... I don't think I ever felt your emotions this strongly..." Her tone began to grow slightly more agitated. "...I thought I knew what your love felt like, but this..." She let out a exhaustive sigh, growing tired with what she was discovering. She walked closer to Wade, grabbing his jaw with her hand. "You don't think you of all people are /that/ lucky, do you Wade? You don't get this kind of ending." Her tone was shifting from that of anger to that of seduction as she took a moment of her own to appreciate the sweat of fear and regret dripping off the man. "Oh... I missed you, my love. Why you ever thought you could replace me with her is beyond me. What does she have that I don't? Life? I can fix that." Wade brought began to hold the weight of his head again. His body was bound by her dark magic to not allow movement, but he was starting to shake with rage. "Oh no... Are you afraid of what might happen to her? Don't worry. I'll make it painless for her. I know, Lady Luck personally, she won't mind getting this one off her plate." Wade's shaking grew more and more violent, his body breaking through the dark magic. As he watched her hands begin to form another "snap" he managed to reach out and grab her by the wrist. He tried to speak, but it was like she had filled his voice box with few kitchen knives. Fighting through the pain he mustered out a pitiful "...No" Death locked eyes with him, her snarky smile fading for a brief moment only to come back stronger. "My love... You're so blind. Don't worry, I will make this right." She goes to snap her fingers again, but Wade has now latched onto her hand. "...I said... NO." Wade lets out a primal scream as he bends back her fingers hearing a few loud cracks. Death stands, unaffected, her smile fading away as she scanned the area around them. The ash from the corn stalk had moved throughout the entire plot of land, darkening it to the point where black was all you could see. Her smile was now a disappointing frown, her time had ran out. "...You can't save her forever. She can't save you either, Wade, luck doesn't work like that. I will ensure our future, my love. You're leaving me for now, but I promise, Wade... I will see you very soon." Wade dropped to his knees as he felt the dark magic exit his body in one fluid departure. Immediately Wade gets to his feet and turns to back to the house, but it's surrounded in darkness. His first attempt is to run towards where the house would be, but after running a few hundred feet it was apparent that he wasn't going to make it anywhere... He had seen this movie before. [Deadpool 2, in theaters now] Wade dropped his head once more as he waited for it to happen... The only thing on his mind was how real and lifelike this had all felt. How this dream was nothing more than that, a dream... Wade would've given anything to be back on that farm, with her. ~~~~~~~ "...I'm sorry, Dom" Wade eyes slowly opened, everything was blurry and he had a headache from hell. His body was still rocking back and forth from the repelling device that was attached to the top of the elevator shaft. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see a rusty nail sticking out of the wall, and it was covered in blood. That probably explains why he could feel a large amount of blood at the bottom of his mask. In reality, Wade had impaled himself on the nail of the elevator shaft, he had been out for sometime and had just now made it back to the land of the living. For Domino, the big red moron had just given her a few minutes of peace and quiet... For Wade, he had been living a dream and all he wanted to do was go back.

[...I ...He ...Oh my, God.]

Wade was silent. Oddly so. It was obvious he was moving and functioning again, but it was just so unlike him not to bust into a Cher song upon regaining consciousness. Instead, he kept to himself, grabbed the rope from the repeal device and started climbing to the top where Dom was waiting. For whatever reason, he couldn't meet her eye line. Instead he climbed through to the next level and readied his guns. “...Snap out of, buddy. That got a little too real.”

#Feels good to be back #Marvel RP #Deadpool #Domino #Farm life

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ruffsficstuffplace · 7 years ago

Text

And The AWRD Goes To... (Part 39)

Evening came, a new nurse showed up at team AWRD’s hospital room. “Excuse me,” she said, “visiting hours will be over in fifteen minutes. I am sorry, but I must ask the guests to please prepare to leave soon.”

“Just 10 more minutes past seven!” Snowie cried, her eyes glued to the screen like almost everyone else. “Just let us finish the last episode of this season plus the epilogue, please!”

Taiyang looked up from the show and smiled at her. “Ten minutes doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”

The nurse smiled. “No, no it does not; I will return ten minutes after seven. Excuse me, I will take my leave now,” she said, before she closed the door after her.

She returned when Haven Hopsital’s clocks all read 7:10 PM, to find the epilogue’s credits rolling and tissues were now being passed around, tears being wiped for those that couldn’t for physical injury (Ruby, Diana, and Akko), or how emotional they had become (Snowie).

The nurse smiled sympathetically. “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are already over, and I must ask all the guests to leave. I’m afraid I can’t give another extension, too.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Snowie said between her sobbing and blowing her nose. “It’s not the first time I’ve ever been caught ugly crying over fictional characters in public, we’re going, we’re going!”

“Would you like me to escort you to the nearest bathroom so you may ‘ugly cry’ with some privacy, Ms. Schnee?” the nurse asked.

“No, it’s fine—trust me, it’s not new...” Snowie muttered. She blew her nose and wiped her tears one more time before she hugged Weiss and Akko both, Winter and Whitley following suit. “I’ll see you all as soon as things die down in Hoshiko,” she blubbered as she took one of the boxes of tissues with her. “Try not to escape and risk falling out a window and breaking your bones all over again on the pavement like Grandpa, okay?”

“We won’t, Mom/Auntie Snowie!” Akko and Weiss replied.

“And warn us when the Shiny Rod does more strange, significant things, so we can start mobilizing hunting parties earlier and get the defenses primed,” Winter said.

“We will, Winter!”

“And please try not to get killed or horribly injured by whatever misfortune comes your way, Shiny Rod or simply luck of the Schnees!” Whitley said. “As a medic-in-training, there is nothing more stressful and anxiety-inducing than learning the people you care about have gotten seriously injured while you could have conceivably been there to help them.”

“We’ll try, Whitley!”

On the other side at the same time, Taiyang kissed Ruby on the forehead before he ruffled her hair goodbye. “Get better soon, Ruby,” he said, smiling.

“I will, Dad,” Ruby said, smiling back.

Diana watched them go out single file, the nurse discretely scanning them and the room as they left. The nurse noticed Diana’s eyes, red and still tearing up since the epilogue, and prepared to go back in the room.

“No, no, I’ve got this, thank you!” Weiss said, climbing out of bed with one of the tissue boxes in tow.

“Are you sure, Ms. Schnee?” the nurse asked. “It’s no trouble at all.”

“I’m sure, you can go, thank you,” Weiss said as she made her way over to Diana’s side.

The nurse stayed for a few more moments, watched Weiss wipe the tears from Diana’s eyes and cheeks, the frown on her face slowly turn up into a smile. “As you wish, Ms. Schnee,” the nurse said, before she turned to the others. “Is there anything I can do for anyone else?”

Diana shook her head. “No, none, thank you for asking,” she said, Ruby and Akko saying much the same.

The nurse nodded. “Then good night, I will take my leave now. Please do not hesitate to use the call button should you need anything, and we’ll have someone assist you as soon as possible,” she said before she left and closed the door after her.

“Thank you for that, Weiss,” Diana said as the last of her tears were wiped off.

“You’re welcome,” Weiss replied. “Do you need a hug? Because you look like you need one.”

“Can we join in?” Akko asked.

“You know, in spirit?” Ruby added.

Diana felt her eyes growing moist again. “Yes, yes you may—physically, or in spirit...”

Weiss carefully hugged her, before she was back to wiping Diana’s tears up again.

“Can I just say something?” Diana asked after her eyes were dry again.

“Sure, what is it?” Weiss asked as she settled into the chair beside her bed, the box of tissues in her lap.

“I’m just… really rather surprised we’ve all gotten so close and familiar over the course of a single week.

“On the day of initiation, we were essentially strangers who only knew each other through our family’s reputations, and the only thing that was memorable to me about Akko and Ruby was that one had mentioned Shiny Chariot for the first time in years, and the other had an obsession with weapons, and wielded a high-velocity sniper scythe—not exactly the most common choice of weapons for young huntresses.

“Now, we’re all opening up about our mental health and the more unsavoury parts of our pasts, pledging and volunteering our time to help one another far past the point you’d expect most newly formed teammates would, and rushing off to save each other from whatever horribleness is threatening to kill us this time, regardless of whether or not there are perfectly capable professional hunters available.”

She chuckled humourlessly. “I even found myself seriously dreading, but still agreeing to a potentially disastrous and lethal ‘Kagari Express,’ something I doubt I’d have ever agreed to back in Combat School, the odds of an incredibly dangerous Grimm escaping or not.”

“Guess that’s just the power of the Shiny Rod!” Akko said, smiling at the weapon. “Shiny Chariot always said she loved using it to bring people together, even if it was only for however long her shows were.”

“Shame it seems to be continuing her legacy by attracting misery and danger to its new wielders, though,” Diana said.

“To be fair, it’s not like all four of us haven’t literally signed up to actively seek that out, mysterious, possibly sentient ancient artifacts or no!” Weiss said. “So, everyone still game for more anime?”

“Yes!” “Sure!” “Starlight Crusaders was rather enjoyable, more anime sounds lovely.”

“Anyone up for a different season of SC?” Weiss said as she went off to fetch the remote. “There’s still a lot of the really good seasons left, before we start having to go into the decent, but not incredible ones.”

“I’m actually wondering if there’s any other shows you might want to recommend,” Diana said. “Not to rail on the quality of the show, I’m sure it’s excellent for the most part, but it’s just that I find myself wanting to explore how diverse this medium can get.”

“Oh! Then I’ve got something perfect in mind: still action packed, loaded with humour and silliness, but a LOT darker, bloodier, and serious than SC,” Weiss said as she navigated the Haven Hospital’s extensive library of media.

“Seems like a sensible next step,” Diana said. What’s it called and what’s it about?”

Weiss smiled. “Oh, I’ll just let the title card answer the first, and the second, well… how do you feel about a just-before-the-Great-War era Valen gentleman doing battle with vampires using a fictional aura marital art, with a power similar to the sun?”

Diana blinked. “… I would say my curiosity is piqued, if only to see how all of these connect...”

“What kind of show is this?” Ruby asked excitedly.

“A very, very bizarre one,” Weiss replied as she settled back into her bed, and pressed “Play.”

Meanwhile, outside AWRD’s room, just after the others left, the Schnees were saying a second round of goodbyes.

“Sure we can’t spare a little more time to see you off at the docks?” Snowie asked as she hugged Winter.

“Sorry, mom, I’m actually due there in five minutes,” Winter said as she hugged back. “Don’t want to stretch the first time in a long while I’ve ever asked to be late for something.”

Snowie sighed, before she pulled away and smiled at Winter. “Don’t go taking anymore ‘shortcuts’ off the roofs of buildings again, alright?”

Winter sighed. “This is going to end up as one of those incidents you’ll never let me forget, are you?”

“To be fair, it’s not exactly every day that a great deal of the Haven campus is treated to the sight and sound of a woman falling off the top of the CCT tower, screaming ‘Motherfucker’ at the top of her lungs before she safely landed back down on the ground,” Whitley said. “Remember to hand that padlock back before you go, now!”

“I will, I will!” Winter snapped, before she pulled Whitley into a hug, ruffling his hair before she turned around, waved, and hurried down the halls of Haven’s hospital.

Snowie sadly waved goodbye, before she turned back to the others with a big smile on her face. “So! Anyone got any plans for dinner? I hear the patisserie chefs here still seriously up their game every Sunday!”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass, mother,” Whitley said. “Between all the Grimm and anxiety attacks, plus all the time it took to pack and move most of my things here to Haven while our house gets repaired and reforested, I have not nearly made as much progress on all my schoolwork as I should have.

“And with that, I regretfully say dasvidanya,” he said, hugging Snowie’s side before he left.

Snowie frowned, and turned to Taiyang with a hopeful smile.

“My landlady likes having the whole building over at her apartment for dinner every Sunday, and I already RSVP’d...” Taiyang started.

Snowie frowned.

“… But, she always likes having new guests over—just gotta try whatever it is she’s made for the main course, unless you’re definitely allergic to it. Then, you’ve got to try the alternate options she made specifically for that.”

Snowie nodded. “How would you describe her cooking?”

Taiyang paused and thought for a moment. “’Piping hot field ration lovingly warmed by a KP you’re fond of, and was generous enough to provide plenty of beer.’”

“Mantle Steinbier, by any chance?” Snowie asked.

“San Lorenzo, sorry,” Taiyang replied.

Snowie shrugged. “Eh, it’ll get me drunk, anyway, let’s go!” she said, smiling. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Don’t thank me just yet!” Taiyang said teasingly as the two of them started heading down the halls to the stairs.

“So, Tai, I couldn’t help but notice you wanted to try and name the Starlight Crusaders season earlier,” Snowie said. “I take it you’re a new fan?”

“Not exactly,” Taiyang replied. “It’s more like I try and keep current with whatever it is the kids today are watching, try and understand all the references flying about, and maybe try and connect with them on a deeper level.”

“How’s it worked out for you?” Snowie asked.

“Ehh… kinda hit and miss, but mostly miss, to be honest,” Taiyang replied. “It feels like it’s an entire part-time job just trying to watch the source material or find the time to do it, let alone trying to understand all the ‘fandom’ stuff...”

“Sounds about right!” Snowie said as they went down the stairs. “Trust me, Tai, unless you actually enjoy watching the show itself, you’re better off just feeling left out of your students’ conversations, if only because you’ll actually have time to do the things you actually do enjoy.”

“Ehh, I’ll take it into consideration,” Taiyang said. “How about you? You ever tried talking pop culture with younger people?” he asked as they went down another flight.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve tried, long time back, but generally I just try and keep it to online discussions now,” Snowie replied.

“Why not in real life?” Taiyang asked.

“Ah, whenever I tried, I always end up creeping them out if they don’t just awkwardly get out of the conversation, their parents or guardians can’t take them away fast enough, and/or I get the attention of nearby police officers and security, and not the good kind.

“Though, be fair, it uh, probably doesn’t help that I’m usually moving in between levels of ‘hungover’ and ‘drunk’ at any given moment. I try to be more the first than the second, though!” She paused. “Ah, operative word ‘try...’”

“Maaaybe it might help if you’ve got a job or a socially acceptable reason to be interacting with them anyway,” Taiyang said as they reached the lobby, headed out the doors. “You know, teacher, tutor, professional huntress consulting for the Academies or the Combat Schools?

“We’re always looking for that last one at the Bunker, especially new faces—I think you’ll fit right in, actually!”

Snowie’s eyes widened, she stopped, and started shaking her head and frantically crossing her hands in the air. “Oh, no, no, no, I really can’t!”

“Is it because you’ve heard it’s full of crazies?” Taiyang asked. “Because it is, but I assure you, they’re all functional, healthy, happy, and we’ve got plenty of staff specifically on hand to make sure they don’t pose a threat to others and themselves.

“I’m actually one of the teachers there who double as Meltdown-Cooldown patrol, and it’s rarely as bad as they make it out to be!”

“No, it’s not that!” Snowie cried. “I’ve heard lots of things about the Bunker—GOOD things, but also bad things, I guess, but I mostly pay attention to the good things and--” she groaned. “Could you give me a minute…?”

Taiyang nodded. “Take your time. Want to sit somewhere more comfortable while you’re at it?” he asked, gesturing at an empty bench nearby.

“Thanks,” Snowie said. The two of them walked over to it, sat down, and she took a few moments to collect her thoughts and think. She turned back to Taiyang, and said, “Tai… I can’t be near kids. Teens. However old they are and however you want to call them, just… basically anyone under the age of 17, and especially below the maturity of an adult, not without someone else who actually is an adult in age and level of responsibility!”

“I thought you were doing just fine back there with Ruby,” Taiyang said. “Pretty impressive, how you could keep up with her—lot of the R&D staff have to take her in five minute intervals.”

Snowie sighed. “That’s because she’s coincidentally into combat tech like I am, and I just happened to be a mechanical engineering graduate from Atlas.”

Taiyang brightened up. “Even better!”

“No, not better!” Snowie snapped. “Look, just—hmmnnn!” she sucked in a few deep, calming breaths, before she said, “You should know that I’m not legally allowed to have custody of my own kids—haven’t been since my divorce, which was little over a decade ago.

“My family’s contingency plan if the universe decides it’s finally time for the both of my parents to kick the bucket is to have Winter become Whitley’s legal guardian, with Akko’s folks as godparents, if that tells you anything.

“You remember what Whitley said earlier, about the convenience store? I spent an hour in there, half of it at the Kari-Kari section alone!”

“To be fair, there were 47 varieties on sale,” Taiyang said, smiling.

Snowie was unamused. “Still.” She sighed and looked away. “You don’t want me there at the Bunker, talking to and interacting with kids, Tai.”

Taiyang reached out to her. “Do you mind if I touch you?”

“Go ahead,” Snowie said.

“Thanks.” Taiyang put his hand on her shoulder. “Snowie, I’m telling you right now, I still want you there at the Bunker, talking to and interacting with the kids, preferably with Ruby, too.”

Snowie looked at him warily. “Is this some sort of weird, roundabout way for you to set up a play date for your daughter?”

“That, and a way to help the institution I love that also happens to employ me, yes,” Taiyang replied.

“… You really want her being friends with a woman three times her age, who just said to your face that she spends all her life in varying states of inebriation?”

“I still let Qrow hang out with her, and he’s always drunk!”

“… Fair point.”

“And conveniently, bringing him up allows me to illustrate just how liberal the hiring and guest policies are at the Bunker. You know he taught there, right?”

“Yeah, he mentioned that sometimes when we still went on missions together,” Snowie replied. “I always thought it was that ‘I had the job for a week before I got kicked out for my drinking’ sort of deal.”

“He had the job for two years, Snowie, went in at the same time as Ruby, left when he felt he taught her and his handful of other mentees everything he could about scythe wielding.”

Snowie blinked. “Wait, seriously...?”

“The Bunker is very generous with the interpretation of ‘functional and acceptable’ behaviour for its professors.”

“… Please don’t take this the wrong way, but are you guys over there really that desperate for staff?”

“Well, yeah, we are, but that’s beside the point!

“My point is: we at the Bunker understand that people have problems. Sometimes they have really big problems, problems that require professional and medical help, along with a sustained and extensive support group, a community, and organizations that will offer them the means and the resources to get or hold a job and live decently, especially when it’s hard for them to get it anywhere else.

“Maybe the position needs them non-disabled. Maybe their potential employers aren’t willing to offer the insurance, the facilities, and the flexibility they need to attend to their special needs. Maybe they’ve just been officially or unofficially blacklisted, because they’re ex-convicts, recovering addicts, or, like Qrow, are very high-functioning alcoholics, but alcoholics nonetheless.

“But whatever the case, the Bunker is a place to belong for everyone that’s found they don’t belong anywhere else.

“Me and the rest of the staff will love having you over there to talk with the kids one time.

“Ruby will love having a reason to go back there and see her old friends, after she got boosted to Haven early this summer.

“And I know, in my heart of hearts, that you’ll love having a reason to hang out with her for an entire Saturday surrounded by what is basically an entire combat school dedicated to creative and inventive solutions to problems most people will never have to face, never even realized were there until someone came along to give them a new perspective on it, or even show them a better way to do something they couldn’t have seen themselves because they had working eyes.

“… That, or just figure out how much armaments and armour you can equip a Battle Saddle with, just for the hell of it, and how much it needs to be downgraded so it can be street legal again!”

Taiyang took his hand of Snowie’s shoulder, held it to her. “So, what do you say…?”

Snowie looked at his hand, up at his smiling, hopeful face, before she slowly reached up, and gently pushed his wrist down. “I’ll say, ‘Ask again when I’ve got more beers in me.’ I make it a point to generally follow through on what I say drunk, so I have motivation to not say as much stupid shit next time.”

“Does it work?” Taiyang asked as they both got up.

“No, but it does give other people a great way to bypass my crippling menagerie of mental health and emotional issues!” Snowie replied. “Only thing worse than feeling like shit for not doing something, is to have already promised someone you’d do something and not done it!”

Taiyang laughed. “I’ll try and keep it to self-improvement and personal growth.”

“Thanks...” Snowie muttered. Her expression softened. “I mean it, honestly.”

“I know, Snowie,” Taiyang said, patting her on the shoulder again. “I know.”

#rwby #little witch academia #fanfic #au #and the awrd goes to #dianakko #white rose

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ariellynn14 · 8 years ago

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The Unexpected Love Chapter 2

Started 7/7/17 Finished 7/9/17 -------- Four Kingdoms, three princes and one princess. The fate of the kingdoms relied upon the marriage of the princess marrying the chosen prince of her father's choice, but will she fall in love with his choice or will she end up hating him instead? -------- As the night was dimming and it was becoming late once more I excused myself to my bedroom and so did Kane. The thought of having him staying in the castle for the next few months made me overly excited but also overly nervous since I'd be seeing someone everyday that I just only met, but the connection between us already is one that feel like we have know each other our whole lives. As I walked back to my room I kept thinking about what me and Kashuu had talked about earlier that day, how he could truly be the southern prince. But how could it be possible though. He has a mother, father, grandfather, and even a younger brother…….but he doesn't look anything remotely like them. Maybe his last name really isn't Yasusada and maybe it is Kiyomitsu like he keeps saying. With all of those thoughts in my head I couldn't help but get myself confused between the reality and the fantasy that made my best friend who he is now. “You're a night bird tonight I see Horikawa.” I heard a voice call me as I opened the door to my room, walked in, and closed the door behind me. It was Kashuu and he was sitting on my bed reading some sort of book, probably found in the castle's library. “What's that?” I asked him as he looked up at me and gave me a blank expression. “A book about the Southern Kingdom. It tells the story of how the original royal family was killed and a new unroyal family took the throne. Legend says that the family that killed the royal family was a family of slaves, thieves, and criminals. It also says there was only one known survivor, a baby prince that disappeared 16 years ago. His description is that he has fair white skin, lightish brown hair, and elongated red eyes. Sound familiar right?” Kashuu stated as I sat next to him and examined the picture that was in the book next to description of the baby prince. The picture was of the previous king and queen of the southern kingdom. The queen had long and beautiful curly hair styled in a middle part, red eyes, and fair skin very similar to Kashuu. The king, also fair skinned but slightly darker than his wife, also had brown hair but darker than hers and brown eyes instead of the red ones like the queen had. Lastly there in the queens arms lay a child, persuadable the lost prince. The picture showcased the family overly happy and proud to be together before the tragic accident happened. “You don't think…..” I trailed off as I looked at him. “Nah but it's possible. Even if I was I'd probably be killed as well. I've thought about it many times as I've read the books in the library about the southern kingdom but then again I'm probably not that prince. Not that I mind but it would be nice to get rid of those bad people that killed the previous family.” Kashuu replied to me as he closed the book, turned me around, and started to undo the back of my dress so I could get into my night clothing. “But if you truly were the prince, what would you do after you got rid of them?” I asked as I stepped out of my dress and he untied my corset. “Try to become your next suitor. Haha no not really, I'd probably try to make the southern kingdom happy and wealthy again like it once was. Now that the new family has been in all they do is steal and take the people's money and goods. They never do good for them anymore and its sicking.” Kashuu replied as a soft smile started to form on my face. “You've always been like that. The 10 years I've known you you've been like that. Always sounding smarter than you leave on.” I laughed as he helped me into my night dress. “Well maybe it's the princes instinct kicking in then. I did take lessons with you behind your parents will and I studied in my free time after I turned 10. My parents thought it was good for me since I practically lived as part of the royal family anyways.” He happily replied as I laughed even more. “And I remember you always getting in trouble for reading in the library with me when we were both supposed to be sleeping. You taught me more words and helped me learn English by staying up late and enduring my stupid pronunciation of words over the years.” I smiled back at him as he undid my he'd and helped me into bed. “We might both only be 16 but we got and still do get in so much trouble with each other despite you now having the boy of your dreams.” He smiled once more at me as I climbed under the covers and pulled them up over my head. “Yeah but it's a good thing. I'd be so different if it wasn't for you.” I mumbled through the covers as he pulled them down past my head and I sat up to grab a quick hug from him. “So even if I was the prince, I wouldn't stop this routine. Helping you undress and redress for bed, putting you to bed, and getting the every night hug, I'd feel so lost without it. But if I really was the prince I wouldn't be able to do it, would I?” Kashuu looked at me with a glisten in his eyes that I had never seen before. A glisten that told me he knew more than he was telling me. As he turned the light off in my room and started to make his way out, I gathered the courage to ask him one last question that could change the fate of both of us. “Kashuu is Yamato really your brother and are his parents really your biological parents or are you adopted?” I asked as I heard his footsteps come to a halt. “I…….I’m not sure…...as far as I know I was born and raised into the family. Besides I'm two years younger than Yamato. There's no way i can't not be his biological brother. My family name is Yasusada, not Kiyomitsu. I fake that just because I don't like the ring of Kashuu Yasusada. Kiyomitsu is actually my middle name. And so what if my life is really revolved around lies. For all I know I could be the long lost prince but like I said I don't really want it anyways. The only way I would want to be prince was if I could be with you. I'll never have the chance now anyways since you're with a boy that I hardly even know and that my brother won't even tell me about.” He almost screamed at me as I got out of my bed, walked over to him, and directed him to the daybed at my window. “I never knew how emotional you could get over that topic. I didn't know…..I'm sorry. Please as an apology sleep here tonight instead of the old and worn out bed that you normally sleep on. Tonight you shall sleep like royalty.” I stated as he layed down and I now became the one to tuck him in. After I had did what I did I quietly made my way back to my bed and layed there for a few minutes thinking about what all had happened today before pulling up the covers for the last time that night. “G-goodnight…….Hori.” I heard Kashuu quietly say as he quickly turned toward the window so I had no clue what face he was making. “Goodnight Kiyomitsu.” I stated as I blew out the candle and made myself comfortable in my bed. -------- Morning was quick to come as I woke the next morning only to find Kashuu curled in a ball on the other side of my king sized bed. Carefully I crawled over to where he was sleeping and planned to scare him awake. “Uwah!!!!!!!!” I screamed as I flung myself over his body and he jolted awake sending both of us flying off of the bed. “W-what the hell?!?!? I was sleeping!!!!!” He defended as he sat up on the ground and looked at me as I pulled my longer hair out of my face. “Sleeping on my bed.” I teased, “What, was it to uncomfortable sleeping on the day bed??” “N-no…..I-I just wanted to protect you from any monsters that might come and get you while you were sleeping.” He lied as I couldn't help but giggle. “Lier!!!!!!! That's not true!!!!” I screamed at him as we both heard the door to my room open and I popped my head up from behind the bed as he his behind it. “Um…….Kunihiro….what are you doing behind the bed?” It was my fiance and I could tell that Kashuu was already getting jealous just from the fact that he grabbed my ankle and was holding it with all of his strength. “Um I just fell out of bed that's all.” I stated as I tried to get up but was pulled back to the ground by Kashuu’s force. “What are you doing?!!! Kane came to wake me and you treat me like this?? I thought you were alright with Kane!!” I whispered at him as he gave me an unsatisfied look. “He's gonna ruin the morning routine!! Tell him to leave and come back later!” He whisper screamed back at me as I gave him the same unsatisfied look he had previously gave me. “Is everything alright back here, girls.” Kane seduced as I heard Kashuu gag behind my back. As I looked at Kane in his aqua blue eyes I couldn't help but get taken away by their beauty until I was met with two thin legs in my face. “Kind sir if you would kindly leave so I could get the princess ready for her day that would be good.” Kashuu gently but firmly stated as he walked closer to Kane and I stood up where I was sitting. “And if you can't follow rules then I'll be forced to throw the trash out myself.” Kashuu added as I noticed a very irritated look on Kane’s face. “Look I only came to wake her up. Not to start a fight. Just be glad that I'm not tattling that another boy was sleeping in her room with her, Prince Kiyomitsu.” Kane shot back at Kashuu now standing next to me. “Oh don't tell me you don't know. Or did Yasusada never tell you that your the true Southern Prince and not the Kotetsu brothers. Its not everyday I get to see a prince living a scum life like you are. You had so much potential yet your adoptive family chose to keep you safe and to keep you away from the Touken of all the princes in the land.” Kane fired once more as Kashuu stared at him with large eyes. “I-Its not true tho!!!!!!!! My family is still alive and I know it!! I was never part of the royal family and never will be!! M-my aunt gave me up since she couldn't take care of me after my father left.” Kashuu defended as that glisten in his eyes from the night before returned. “Kashuu, is there something you'd seriously hiding?? I asked him as he turned away and walked to my closet. “He's hiding so much more than you think he is.” Kane reassured me as I looked up at him. -------- “You know this is a huge bother. Not that fact that I have to clarify that Kashuu really is the prince but that fact that you woke me up eariler than what I normally wake up on the weekends.” Yamato complained as I thanked the maid for bringing the four of us tea in the library later that morning. “So its true he's the prince then. What does that mean for my engagement to Kane?” I asked Yamato as he sipped some of his tea. “Nothing, you can continue on with the marriage and live a normal life. However explaining the next issue with be hard since Kashuu can be a wimp at times. Just how did you not figure it out yourself? I thought you were smarter than me.” Yamato directed to Kashuu as he looked up from the same book he was reading last night. “Oh I knew. I just never said anything because I didn't want the Kotetsu’s down my ass for not dying the same night my parents did.” Kashuu replied confidently as we all gave him wide eyes. “What do you mean you knew??? You just acted like an idiot about it eariler when I called you Prince Kiyomitsu and now you say you knew the whole time?!?! What's wrong with you??!!” Kane snapped as I put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. “Like I said, I don't want to get my ass killed by the Kotetsu family. They are a bunch of mental ill freaks that no one wants to mess with. All they do is good for themselves and no one else and if you try to interfere with them thats practically a death sentence for you. I know cuz that's how my dads sister got her boyfriend killed.” Kashuu responded as he got close to Kane's face and slapped him right after he spat his words at him. “ORA!!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TRYING TO START YOU BASTARD!!!” Kane screamed as he stood up to make himself appear bigger than Kashuu. “I wouldn't underestimate my thin frame if I were you. Living as a servant and bodyguard has taught me a thing or two about people like you.” Kashuu simply laughed as he sat back in his seat and stared at Kane. “Ok Izumi-san please calm down and Kashuu…..dont pull a stunt like that with kane again. He gets aggressive when he's physically or mentally lashed at.” Yamato stood up as he tried to calm down the fired up prince. “Its funny to see him act like this to his only left alive cousin, it really is.” Kashuu laughed as we all gave him wide eyes once more. -------- So….how was chapter two?? Please let me know!! Next chapter shoikd be out by the end of next week! ^^

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alaurin101 · 8 years ago

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Doing What Must Be Done

So my muse paid me a visit and I feel the need to share the resulting story. I’ll admit this sucker has been in my unfinished fics folder for more than 2 years!! So have some desert fun with trooper Tia on Tatooine! The following takes place immediately after A Necessary Risk and contains spoilers for Trooper Tatooine.....as well as some innuendo and risque conversation!

Doing What Must Be Done

The robed figure eyed the two soldiers for a moment, then ducked into a nearby alley as a crowd began to gather. Several cheers were going up for the Republic Spec Forces squad who’d just saved several lives by diffusing a massive threat, a second wave of tampered droids that was set off to destroy what was left of the complex the first wave hit. A cunningly cruel tactic that her ‘superior’ had developed…..blow a civilian complex and wait for first responders to show up before setting off a second blast. Only the explosives were hidden inside common protocol droids, this time at least. She knew for a fact that the stuff her former squad mate had developed for the Imperials could be put into just about any droid or vehicle. So many emotions washed over her, anger at Fuse for going along with the Havoc traitors in the first place, disgust at Gorik that he cared so little for innocent lives, fear that she wouldn’t be able to find a way to stop further attacks, but the prominent one was relief. Relief that she was no longer alone. Relief that she had some heavy duty backup. Relief that she could now begin to put her plan into motion.

Banking on Fuse still attempting to make contact with the mayor, Tia decided to leave Anchorhead without making contact herself since her main reason for doing so was to find out when Havoc arrived on planet. With that already established, she decided not to risk being spotted and snuck out of the city. Besides, Tia could easily use one of the comlinks she’d pilfered off of a couple pirates who’d made the fatal mistake of thinking she was an easy target to contact Aric Jorgan herself. That would be a last resort though, since any voice contact could be heard and possibly recorded over his armor cam. Very few people knew Tia hadn’t really defected with the other Havoc traitors, and for the security of the mission as well as her own safety, it was best kept that way. It was a big enough risk for her to send him messages via stolen datapads that she destroyed after the fact, but an actual call was pushing it. However, the first step of her plan required Havoc to make an appearance. As soon as she got far enough, Tia pulled her rented speeder over and contacted Colonal Gorik with the latest news.

“Sir, I made it to Anchorhead,” she told her ‘superior’ when his image appeared on her comlink, “but bad news on that front, Havoc Squad is here and they stopped the second wave.”

“Blast,” the commander swore, “Why is Republic Spec Forces on Tatooine?”

“Can’t say sir, thought it best I get outta there before I was spotted.”

“Understood Sergeant,” Gorik sighed, his frustration written all over his face. “I can’t risk them tracing those droids back to the source. Are you still in the area?”

“I’m just a few kliks outside of Anchorhead, sir.”

“Good, I want you to go to the Geonosian bunker nearby and make sure they’re ready in case of an attack. I’m sure it’ll be fine, but there’s always a risk with outsourcing labor like this. Credits have a way of making people talk.”

“That’s true, sir,” Tia agreed, “But Geonosians aren’t ones to make friendly chit chat with other species.”

“You have a fair point,” Gorik conceded, “but it still doesn’t hurt to make sure defenses are fortified in the factory just in case. In the meantime, I need to figure out what to do about Havoc Squad. Report back to me after you’ve seen to the factory’s security, Sergeant.”

“Understood, sir,” Tia saluted, “I’ll head there immediately.”

Tia heard her datapad chime and saw that the Commander had sent the coordinates for the Geonosian factory. She quickly programmed them into the speeder’s navigator then put her datapad back into her pack along with her com. Thrilled that Gorik was playing right into her plan, a broad grin spread across her features as she started the speeder back up, Oh I’ll get that bunker ready alright. A few minutes later, she was racing over the sandy desert back to Dreviad, hoping that droid had kept its promise to watch over her broken speeder.

It didn’t take long before the Geonosian complex was in sight. Tia parked the speeder near a large cluster of rocks, grabbed the large backpack she’d packed several kilos of detonite bombs in, then walked the rest of the way to the building. She found the Geonosians inside and quickly filled them in on the recent developments. Kyvax, the one in charge, asked if they needed to halt production. Tia insisted the chances of Spec Forces finding them were remote and assured Kyvax she was there to keep the factory secure at all costs. The tall insectoid looked doubtful, but granted her request when she asked for access to the upper level in order to make preparations just in case Havoc did show up. Tia instructed them all to keep working as normal while she handled the potential threat. The Geonosians complied, figuring the Cathar soldier would be at risk more than they were, and went back to work building the bombs, allowing Tia to work without interruption.

She casually walked around the main part of the factory, pausing from time to time to slip a hand into her pack and place a bomb along the way in key, hidden areas while she pretended to study the room. The small devices blended in with the equipment easily and wouldn’t be spotted unless there was an inspection, which wasn’t likely to happen before she blew the place. Then she slipped into the back room, which served as the storage area and planted several of the devices inside some of the crates, then took the rest upstairs to plant the rest of her stash, wanting to make sure all the computer terminals in the offices were obliterated. No way was she going to risk Fuse’s designs falling into any more hands. For a brief moment, Tia felt a flicker of remorse for the Geonosians, but the she reminded herself that they were fully aware of what they were making and how it was being used. They didn’t care about the innocent lives that were lost, a few were even amused by that latest attack on Anchorhead and even suggested they look at expanding their territory if the Imperials decided to test the droids on the nearby Republic outpost.

“They’re just as bad as Needles and his sick experiments,” Tia muttered, biting her lip as she focused on her task. But who made you judge, jury, and executioner? She paused for a brief second when that guilty thought popped into her head and wondered once again if she was becoming a monster. Suddenly Tia wished she had someone to talk to, someone to tell her what to do, but just as with Taris, she was on her own. Swallowing hard to clear the lump forming in her throat, the young soldier set aside her emotions so she could do what had to be done.

Tia gave a sigh of relief as she placed the last one, then sat at one of the terminals and pulled a small remote out of her pack. She turned the device on, smiling when she saw all twelve lights come on…..her little toys were armed and ready to make some noise at the press of a button, which she would do as soon as Havoc was present. All that was left was to contact Aric so he could make that happen……because if the factory were to blow up all the sudden for no apparent reason, her superiors would wonder why. However, if Havoc were around, the Imperials would assume the squad took the factory out. She’d simply tell Aric to contact her when Havoc reached the outskirts of the Geonosian complex, then wait downstairs and pretend to be keeping an eye out for hostiles. As soon as Tia got his call, she’d slip out of the factory and blow the place sky high as soon as she was at a safe distance. Thrilled her plan was going to go off without a hitch, Tia dug out one of the stolen comlinks and put in the number Kat had given her while they were on Nar Shaddaa. She was about to hit the call button when she happened to glance out the office window and much to her surprise, she spotted Havoc approaching.

“Kark me, she hissed as she stuffed the comlink back into the near empty pack and readied the remote, “they got here quicker than I expected……Fuse must’ve contacted them and spilled the beans!”

Not wanting Havoc to get inside the blast radius, Tia jammed her helmet on, activated her shield, and bolted down the stairs. Dammit, this isn’t going to be fun, she cringed inwardly, ignoring the chittering of the Geonosian workers she pushed past as she made her way through the factory. Please Gods, let me survive this, she prayed as she sprinted through the doorway, hitting the switch on the remote as she did.

~*~*~*~

“According to Fuse, that’s the factory,” the tawny Cathar pointed at the bunker nearest to the towering cliffs.

“I don’t see any guards at the doors, but there are several small patrols. What’s our approach, sir?” The blonde human asked, lowering her microbinoculars.

“If Fuse is right, then they don’t have any actual Imperial backup,” Aric replied, “Just their own people and while they can be tough and good with tech, they aren’t nearly as organized in a fight. Forex could easily distract the patrols long enough for you and I to enter the complex and raze the place.”

“I am eager to do my part in eradicating this threat to innocent civilians everywhere and to crush those Imperial loving insects, sir!”

“Easy Forex,” Aric shook his head, “We’re not here to stamp out a species, just to take out that facto-“

“Imperial soldier!” Elara called out, spotting a lone figure clad in Imperial armor running out the front door, “Fuse was mis-“

Elara’s statement was interrupted by a ground shaking explosion that was enough to knock them both over. They both covered their heads as the factory they’d been headed towards was a towering inferno. Unsure of what caused the factory to blow or if there was more to come, a shaken Aric got to his feet and staggered towards Elara. He cringed at the carnage all around, certain that none of the patrols had survived.

“What the hell?” Aric swore as he helped his medic up, the blast still ringing in his ears.

“Look, sir,” she pointed, shock making her face even paler.

Aric gaze travelled to where Elara was pointing and spotted a figure staggering out of the fireball that used to be the Geonosian factory a moment ago. Elara was certain it was the same Imperial soldier she’d spotted bolting out the building seconds before the blast and said as much. They saw soldier pulled off her helmet when she cleared the flames, tossing the smoking thing aside then frantically tried to peel off her melting armor. Both Aric and Elara immediately recognized the silvery Cathar and rushed over to help.

“Are you frakking crazy?!” Aric barked as he began ripping off Tia’s melted plating, wincing at how hot the metal felt through his gloves. “Forex, keep an eye out…….for anyone.”

“As always, it’s such a pleasure to see you, Captain,” Tia retorted, tears forming both from the sting of the smoke and the pain she could feel from the overheated under armor she was trying to unzip, “Good to see you are still your pleasant self……I was worried you’d might’ve figured out how not to be an jerk after our little chat on Nar Shaddaa. Gods be damned, this karking zipper’s melted!”

“You’ll have to excuse me for not being prepared to see you racing out of an exploding building!” Aric’s hands were shaking as he dug out a knife and began cutting at the very hot, thick material, “I swear both you and your littermate need to read up on how to properly handle explosives.”

“Stars, stop griping at me and get this kriffin’ thing off!” Tia yowled, feeling the mesh weave starting to singe through her fur in a couple of places.

“Serves you right,” Aric snapped as he continued working at getting the silvery minx free from her underarmor, “and it wouldn’t kill you to use the words ‘please’ and ‘sir’ you know. You might be behind enemy lines, but I’m still your superior.”

As soon as he’d cut enough of the material, Aric jerked it the rest of the way open and discovered yet another thing that would likely be invading his dreams. His hands shook as he finished helping her out of the hot mesh, itching to tear those purple satin and lace scraps off of her as well. Tia groaned in relief as she shimmied the rest of the way out of it, kicking the ruined mesh aside as she dashed the tears from her eyes. When she turned to face him, a glint caught his eye and he spotted a small, violet gem dangling from a small silver hoop that pierced her navel and he felt his body tighten further. Needing to get control of himself, Aric took a step back before he did something really stupid.

Tia saw his heated gaze and gave a sultry laugh, “I take it you like the view…….sir.”

“You scared us, Sergeant,” Elara intervened before things got ugly and before Tia could taunt Aric any further, she guided the younger Cathar over to where she and Aric had parked their speeders. She unhooked her medikit from her speeder and began tending to the numerous cuts and burns Tia sustained, pausing when she caught mischief twinkling on those lavender eyes which were currently following their brooding CO who was pacing nearby. She lowered her voice as she continued to apply kolto to one of the more raw spots, “I seem to recall you making a promise to Val back on Nar Shaddaa that you were going to try to be nicer to Captain Jorgan.”

“No, I merely promised that I wouldn’t do any more physical damage,” she smirked, knowing his sharp hearing was catching every word of their conversation, then winked at a scowling Aric who’d stopped pacing at her comment and was currently glaring at her with those arms crossed, “I never said I’d stop teasing him…….and he was the one who started it this time.”

“Well, it isn’t nice to come on to a guy like that when you don’t really mean it,” Elara chided, “While I can understand somewhat why you are angry, I think you’ve had more than enough payback for Ord Mantell.”

“I can’t help it if I’m the flirty type,” Tia shrugged, willing to bet the other woman didn’t know everything, “and who says I don’t mean it……”

“Do you?” Elara asked pointedly, a blonde brow arching as she looked up at Tia.

“That’s for me to know and Captain Crankypants to wonder…..” Tia taunted as the subject of their conversation had enough and strode towards them.

“So, is there any particular reason you felt the need to blow a building before you were a safe distance from it?” Aric asked in that highly grating, acerbic tone of his and Tia itched to slap that smug look off his face.

“I wasn’t counting on you guys getting here so fast,” she admitted grudgingly as she checked her bracelet over, glad to see it was undamaged. She let out a sigh, feeling a little guilty for lashing out, “I’d actually planned to be a bit further away when I set it off.”

“You knew we were on planet?” Elara’s green eyes narrowed at her.

“I found out when I arrived in Anchorhead a couple hours ago,” Tia nodded, “I was there when the second wave of droids went off and saw you guys had diverted them.”

“Where were you?” Aric asked, certain he’d have spotted her in any crowd.

“I was standing near the ruins of that apartment complex, but I ducked into the alley before you got too close.” Tia’s lavender eyes met Aric’s as she continued, “I was in disguise but didn’t want to chance being detected.”

“Probably for the best,” Aric nodded, understanding what she was leaving unsaid. Elara had been unconscious the last time they’d met face to face, and he certainly hadn’t felt the need to share the details of that explosive exchange for several reasons. Including the fact he’d come dangerously close to crossing boundaries that he had no right to, but Gods help him, he was finding it a lot harder to resist. Even though nothing happened, other than her emotional tirade and him consoling her, he’d know her scent anywhere. “So why were you in Anchorhead in the first place?”

“Officially, I was there to oversee the field test for Colonel Gorik,” Tia replied, gritting her teeth as Elara began to clean out a raw spot on her shoulder.

“And unofficially?” Aric prodded.

“I was going to pay a visit to Mayor Klerren. I figured he would at least know if Republic Spec Forces was in his city. I came across a couple comlinks that were no longer needed by their owners…..”

“Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not,” Tia grinned. “I was going to give one to the mayor and keep the other for the sole purpose of one call to let me know when Havoc Squad arrived on Tattooine. After I saw you for myself, I didn’t need to visit the mayor after all so I snuck out while the crowd was cheering your heroics.”

“Miss me that much, did you?” Aric taunted, a wicked gleam in his bright green eyes as they met hers again. He chuckled when she scowled, glad to be giving her a taste of her own medicine for once.

“About as much as the flu,” she shot back, hating the fact that she did in fact miss him a little. “I needed you guys for my plan. As soon as I arrived on this dustbowl, I’ve been trying to figure out how I was going to deal with Gorik, Fuse, and those damned bomb designs. I haven’t quite worked everything out, but I knew that factory had to go and sooner rather than later. So before I set out this morning, I packed a few little bombs to take with me.”

“A few?! That factory is a crater!”

“Okay, more like a dozen,” she looked sheepish, “Detonite.”

“Kark, you really are crazy!”

“It’s not like I had a lot of choices and I’m not exactly an explosives expert,” Tia defended herself. “So after I left Anchorhead, I contacted Gorik and let him know you’d arrived….”

“What?!” Aric bellowed, running his hands over his head as he stared at the younger Cathar.

“Why would you do that?!” Elara frowned.

“Oh please,” Tia rolled her eyes at them both, “No need to get your panties in a bunch. It was only a matter of time before word spread that the infamous Havoc Squad saved Anchorhead. Besides, I knew if Gorik felt the teensiest threat to his precious factory, he’d send someone to help defend it. I was his best choice since I was conveniently close by. So he sent me the coordinates and I headed over here. The Geonosians were expecting me and I was able to arrange my little surprise while they thought I was beefing up security and preping an ambush……just in case. But…..”

Aric sighed, “But you needed Havoc here so Gorik would assume we destroyed the factory.”

“Indeed,” Tia confirmed, “You know you’re actually smarter than I took you for. Okay, okay, I’ll stop teasing…….so Kat gave me your contact info and I was just about to call you, however, I saw you guys approaching and blew it before you got too close. Luckily I had a pretty good shield generator on me but I think I’m gonna need a new one…..and some clothes.”

“What’d you expect after blowing a building while you were still in it?! You could’ve been killed!” Aric growled, feeling certain areas of his body tense again at the reminder of just how little she had on, not to mention that navel ring. It would be unprofessional to mate with your subordinate…….or choke the life out of her…….especially out in the open.....or in front of witnesses.

“Awwww, Captain, I’m so touched by your concern,” Tia purred, sauntering over to him as Elara started digging into the pack on Aric’s speeder, “but hey, at least my bra and panties are still intact……or were you hoping I’d need to take them off too?”

“Here, Sergeant,” Elara called out, biting back a smile, and tossed a large t-shirt to her before pulling her datapad out of her backpack.

“Oh, this is way too big to be yours, Sergeant Dorne,” Tia smiled as she pulled it on, “So it must belong to our grumpy Captain……it’s been awhile since I’ve had to cover my body with a man’s shirt…..and never in the desert.” She fixed Aric with a suggestive look, “Just think, sir, you’ve given me a whole new experience……too bad we’re not alone, I’m sure you could’ve given me a much better reason to be wearing your shirt.”

Tia gave a sultry laugh at the low growl that came from his throat, but Elara piped up before her CO blew a gasket, “Loose clothing is best right now, at least until that kolto has time to dry a little. So while we’re waiting for that, maybe you could brief us on what else you know or have planned.”

“As much fun as teasing old cranky pants here is, you make a good point and I do have news,” Tia sighed, closing her eyes for a moment as she rubbed her temples in an effort to ease the growing tension the day’s events were building in her. Taking a deep breath, Tia went on to explain about Gorik’s plans for Fuse’s designs, Fuse growing a conscious and refusing to work on them after finding out the Imperial officer was testing them on civilians, then Gorik throwing Fuse in the brig as a result. She explained that Tavus found out and sent her in to deal with the situation. She admitted to being aware that Fuse was trying to contact the mayor and planned to let that continue since it was the best way to give them information and bide her time so she could ensure those bomb designs never leave the planet without blowing her cover. Then she looked them both square in the eye and told them she was certain Fuse wanted out.

“If he wants a shot at atoning, then I suppose it won’t hurt to let him continue as is,” Aric spoke up after pondering that for a moment, “but are you sure he can be trusted?”

“Honestly, I don’t think he really wanted to defect in the first place,” Tia told them, “In those few days that we were all together on the Justice, he always seemed a little subdued, even a little hesitant. At first, I just attributed it to his personality……he’s not exactly the talkative type, but after arriving on Tatooine, I think he just went along with the others and now that he’s seen what the Imperials are capable of……”

“He wants no part of it,” Elara finished, “I know that feeling.”

“Exactly,” Tia nodded, “I’ll keep an eye on him and I certainly don’t plan to let him know my real role in all this, but I do think this is the best way for us to take down operations here and get Fuse into Republic custody.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Aric decided, “When we get back to Anchorhead, I’ll let Mayor Klerren know Fuse’s intel was sound and that we took care of the factory. Fuse seemed to be comfortable talking with the mayor so that’s probably our best way to keep in contact.”

“And I’ll work on an extraction plan and getting those designs out of Imperial hands,” Tia suggested, “Speaking of getting back, I should do so as well before they start to wonder where I am.”

“What are you going to do about clothing?” Elara frowned, “Because you really can’t wear that back to your base.”

“I snatched some stuff on my way to Anchorhead so I could pass for a local or Force user,” Tia answered, “It’s with my speeder a little ways away from here……no shirt though, just pants, boots, and a robe.”

“Do I even want to know where you got that stuff from?”

“Again……probably not,” Tia grinned at the pained expression on Aric’s face. “But Elara’s right, your shirt has the Republic Military logo on it so I shouldn’t even wear it under the robe......I don’t trust Gorik and the feeling is mutual. He’s probably going through my stuff whenever I’m not around to see if he can get any dirt on Tavus and this shirt would raise questions I don’t want to answer if it’s found.”

“Do you have anything else?”

“I was just wearing my tank top that I had on under my cortosis, but that’s toast.”

“I have a spare in my pack but it has the same logo as Captain Jorgan’s shirt. However, the Republic outpost is nearby and I saw a couple clothing stands there,” Elara mused, “If you don’t mind waiting with Sergeant Vleska, sir, I can go get her something more appropriate to wear. Sergeant, you look like you’re similar size as I am so it shouldn’t take me more than ten minutes…..fifteen at the most.”

“Thanks,” Tia smiled.

“Don’t mention it,” Elara waved as she climbed on her speeder, “Just be nice to our CO.”

“Fine,” Tia groaned, winking at the medic, “I’ll try my very best.”

Elara took off a moment later and Aric checked in with Forex, ordering the droid to keep scanning the perimeter and to let him know if anyone approached. Then he sat on a small boulder next to the remaining speeder, glancing over at the temptress wearing his shirt as he recalled the last time they were alone together and that brief exchange of messages they had shortly after, cryptic to anyone else, but full of teasing innuendo on both their parts. He’d honestly never felt so confused or uncertain in all his years, but knew there was little he could or should do about it at this point. He lowered his gaze, frowning when he saw a patch of angry red skin through the silvery fur just above her knee.

“You okay?” Aric broke the tense silence.

“I’ve had worse,” Tia sighed.

“You look tired,” Aric pointed out, having noticed the dark circles under her eyes.

“Been a long couple of days to be honest,” she murmured, the adrenaline that had been pumping through her ever since she’d spotted Havoc approaching the complex was waning and she was starting to feel exhausted. She stared for a moment at the flames still consuming the factory, “I could’ve warned them as I ran for the door…….some might’ve made it out alive,” she brushed at her cheek when an errant tear ran down, “But I didn’t. They’re all dead because I pressed a button without giving them a chance.” She turned to look him right in the eye, “What kind of person does that make me, Aric?”

“What do you think would’ve happened if you hadn’t blown the factory?” Aric asked softly, even more worried about the mental toll this was taking on her. Knowing he needed to at least try to ease the guilt he easily saw written all over that lovely face, he went on, “If we hadn’t shown up, they would’ve continued making more bombs. More innocent civilians would’ve been injured or killed.”

“Who am I to decide what lives have value?”

“All life has value,” he sighed, “But those Geonosians were no innocent civilians. Would you be this upset if you were part of a strike team that slagged an Imperial Military base?”

“Those weren’t soldiers caught in the blast though,” she pointed out.

“No, but they were willingly working with Imperial soldiers to attack civilians,” Aric countered, knowing he had to keep her focus on the logical part. “What if you had warned them? Do you really think they would’ve simply surrendered to us and gone quietly into custody?”

“No,” Tia admitted, “They would’ve fought back.”

“And would be just as dead as they are now,” Aric finished. “We were going to assault the factory before you blew it…..again, do you think the Geonosians would’ve surrendered without a fight?”

“No,” Tia murmured, still feeling bad about what she’d ultimately done, but realizing that the outcome would’ve been about the same if she hadn’t. “I just…..I don’t want to become some cold hearted monster that doesn’t give a squat about people’s lives.”

“Would you be this upset if you were in danger of that?”

“No, I suppose not,” she smiled weakly. “You’re not just making this all up so I’ll feel better, are you?”

“Given our brief history together, has there ever been anything about me that would make you think I’m the coddling type?!”

“Definitely not,” Tia snorted, her smile broadening. “But I do appreciate your honesty and insight…..maybe I’ll be able to sleep tonight after all.”

“Come back to Anchorhead with us,” he offered, desperately hoping she’d take him up on it for her own sake, “You know where Gorik’s base is so we can just assault it head on…….”

“With what?” Tia shook her head, “Just you, Elara, and Forex? If I go with you, my cover is blown and Tavus will compensate for that. We’d be hard pressed to find him, Wraith, or Gearbox after that and I have no idea what they’re doing.”

“Fuse might be able to help and we can put word out that he died in the attack.”

“It’s not that simple,” Tia countered, “First off, I doubt Fuse knows much more than I do. We weren’t exactly holding group meetings after Tavus sent us all off. They all had their separate missions, but no one knew the details of the others’. I was sent off with Needles and neither of us had any idea what Fuse, Gearbox, or Wraith were up to. Secondly, it’s going to take a lot more than a three man squad to assault Gorik’s bunker…..even with Forex’s firepower. Thirdly, there’s too much risk of the bomb designs getting away or Fuse not making it out of there alive.”

“I won’t be too upset if he doesn’t,” Aric growled as he stood and began to pace, “He’s the one who chose to turn traitor and serve the Imperials. You saw the damage in Anchorhead…….that apartment complex was a direct result of his work for Gorik! The Geonosians may have built the droids, but he’s the one who designed them!”

“Believe me, I’m definitely pissed about that and he has a lot to answer for if he does make it back into Republic custody,” Tia insisted, “but the target wasn’t his choice and he stopped working on the designs as soon as he discovered the truth about what Gorik was doing with them.”

“What did he think they’d be used for?!”

“That’s the thing, he probably wasn’t at first,” Tia agreed, then went on, “Fuse trusts Tavus, they all do…...and Tavus assigned him to assist Colonel Gorik. But I truly feel with everything in my being that Fuse deeply regrets what he’s done and wants to atone. If Gorik finds out Fuse is contacting Mayor Klerren, he’ll face a firing squad as fast as one can be assembled. He at least deserves the chance for the risk he’s taking.”

“How much of this is because you slept with him?” Aric accused, regretting the words the moment they left his mouth.

A sly smile curved her lips as those lavender eyes met his head on, “You’re jealous. That’s why you’re getting so angry.”

“I am not jealous,” he lied, crossing his arms as he glared at her, “Just concerned that you’re letting your feelings cloud your judgment.”

“You are a horrible liar, Aric Jorgan,” Tia shot back as she stood, getting annoyed by his accusations. “But rest assured, I am far from compromised. I was three days into my mating cycle and Fuse was nothing more than a way to scratch the proverbial itch. It really wasn’t that great to be honest…..I mean he satisfied my needs so I can’t complain, but he wasn’t who I was wanting at the time……so anyways, the point is moot. We had sex, that’s it. There was no emotion involved to cloud my better judgment.”

“Oh really?” Aric raised a brow, his mouth twitching in a smirk as he saw the silvery minx start to fidget with her bracelet. “So Tiannya Vleska, who were you wanting at the time?”

“Why do you want to know?” she tossed back, a wicked gleam in her eye as her voice lowered to a purr. “Are you wishing it was you? I gave you a chance back on Ord if you recall that last day……”

Aric had no trouble recollecting neither that particular moment nor how difficult it had been to resist her, but the sound of an approaching speeder spared him from having to utter a response that he was certain she’d see for the lie it would be. Judging from the husky laughter that came from her, she knew damn well she’d won that round. However, after seeing how torn up she’d been a few minutes ago, Aric couldn’t begrudge her the victory. If all their verbal sparring and innuendo helped her overcome the bitterness of her current predicament, it was well worth any slights he might feel…..or any cold showers he’d end up having to take.

A few minutes later, Elara parked her speeder and was handing Tia a simple white cotton t-shirt while Aric went to fetch her speeder. She thanked the other woman, then spotting Aric driving her speeder back, she slowly, tantalizingly removed his t-shirt, knowing full well he was watching. She stood in her bra and panties for a moment while Elara checked over the kolto strips and bandages, then carefully pulled the new one on with the medic’s help, trying to keep the bandages from shifting and not to wince when the tighter garment rubbed a couple of the raw spots.

“Hey Captain,” she winked, her lips curving in a seductive little smile, as she tossed his shirt to him, “Just think, if you wear that without washing it, it’ll be kinda like my naked body touching yours….”

Aric gave her a feral grin before he could help himself, then tried to cover it up by scowling at her before stuffing the shirt into his pack, “Just try to keep out of trouble, Sergeant.”

“I saw that…..and don’t worry about me,” she replied, a dark look coming over her face, “I have a few more scores to settle and I’ll do whatever I must to ensure I succeed.”

#alaurin fanfic #OC Tiannya Vleska #Aric Jorgan #Elara Dorne #M1-4X #swtor #trooper #the muse is back #Vleska Legacy

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yellowfeather84 · 8 years ago

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I know we're all excited for the printshop scene and what happens next, but the reunion I'm truly looking forward to is the one between Jamie and Bree. I'm aware Roger and Brianna are not fan favorites but I LOVE the relationship both of them build with Jamie over time, he really becomes a father for both of them. Jamie deserves all the good things, and I can't wait for his family to be whole again. And I *really* hope the show will not neglect Fergus as Diana did in the books. I love them all!

There was no doubt in her mind, from the first glimpse. She was at once surprised and not surprised at all; he was not quite what she had imagined—he seemed smaller, only man-sized—but his face had the lines of her own; the long, straight nose and stubborn jaw, and the slanted cat-eyes, set in a frame of solid bone.

He moved toward her out of the maples’ shadow, and the sun struck his hair with a spray of copper sparks. Half consciously she raised a hand and pushed a strand of hair back from her face, seeing from the corner of her eye the matching gleam of thick red-gold.

“What d’ye want here, lassie?” he asked. Sharp, but not unkind. His voice was deeper than she had imagined; the Highland burr slight but distinct. “You,” she blurted. Her heart seemed to have wedged itself in her throat; she had trouble forcing any words past it.

He was close enough that she caught the faint whiff of his sweat and the fresh smell of sawn wood; there was a golden scatter of sawdust caught in the rolled sleeves of his linen shirt. His eyes narrowed with amusement as he looked her up and down, taking in her costume. One reddish eyebrow rose, and he shook his head.

“Sorry, lass,” he said, with a half-smile. “I’m a marrit man.”

He made to pass by, and she made a small incoherent sound, putting out a hand to stop him, but not quite daring to touch his sleeve. He stopped and looked at her more closely.

“No, I meant it; I’ve a wife at home, and home’s not far,” he said, evidently wishing to be courteous. “But—” He stopped, close enough now to take in the grubbiness of her clothes, the hole in the sleeve of her coat and the tattered ends of her stock.

“Och,” he said in a different tone, and reached for the small leather purse he wore tied at his waist. “Will ye be starved, then, lass? I’ve money, if you must eat.”

She could scarcely breathe. His eyes were dark blue, soft with kindness. Her eyes fixed on the open collar of his shirt, where the curly hairs showed, bleached gold against his sunburnt skin.

“Are you—you’re Jamie Fraser, aren’t you?”

He glanced sharply at her face.

“I am,” he said. The wariness had returned to his face; his eyes narrowed against the sun. He glanced quickly behind him, toward the tavern, but nothing stirred in the open doorway. He took a step closer to her.

“Who asks?” he said softly. “Have you a message for me, lass?”

She felt an absurd desire to laugh welling up in her throat. Did she have a message?

“My name is Brianna,” she said. He frowned, uncertain, and something flickered in his eyes. He knew it! He’d heard the name and it meant something to him. She swallowed hard, feeling her cheeks blaze as though they’d been seared by a candle flame.

“I’m your daughter,” she said, her voice sounding choked to her own ears. “Brianna.”

He stood stock-still, not changing expression in the slightest. He had heard her, though; he went pale, and then a deep, painful red washed up his throat and into his face, sudden as a brushfire, matching her own vivid color.

She felt a deep flash of joy at the sight, a rush through her midsection that echoed that blaze of blood, recognition of their fair-skinned kinship. Did it trouble him to blush so strongly? she wondered suddenly. Had he schooled his face to immobility, as she had learned to do, to mask that telltale surge?

Her own face felt stiff, but she gave him a tentative smile.

He blinked, and his eyes moved at last from her face, slowly taking in her appearance, and—with what seemed to her a new and horrified awareness—her height.

“My God,” he croaked. “You’re huge.”

Her own blush had subsided, but now came back with a vengeance.

“And whose fault is that, do you think?” she snapped. She drew herself up straight and squared her shoulders, glaring. So close, at her full height, she could look him right in the eye, and did.

He jerked back, and his face did change then, mask shattering in surprise. Without it, he looked younger; underneath were shock, surprise, and a dawning expression of half-painful eagerness.

“Och, no, lassie!” he exclaimed. “I didna mean it that way, at all! It’s only—” He broke off, staring at her in fascination. His hand lifted, as though despite himself, and traced the air, outlining her cheek, her jaw and neck and shoulder, afraid to touch her directly.

“It’s true?” he whispered. “It is you, Brianna?” He spoke her name with a queer accent—Breeanah—and she shivered at the sound.

“It’s me,” she said, a little huskily. She made another attempt at a smile. “Can’t you tell?”

His mouth was wide and full-lipped, but not like hers; wider, a bolder shape, that seemed to hide a smile in the corners of it, even in repose. It was twitching now, not certain what to do.

“Aye,” he said. “Aye, I can.”

He did touch her then, his fingers drawing lightly down her face, brushing back the waves of ruddy hair from temple and ear, tracing the delicate line of her jaw. She shivered again, though his touch was noticeably warm; she could feel the heat of his palm against her cheek.

“I hadna thought of you as grown,” he said, letting his hand fall reluctantly away. “I saw the pictures, but still—I had ye in my mind somehow as a wee bairn always—as my babe. I never expected …” His voice trailed off as he stared at her, the eyes like her own, deep blue and thick-lashed, wide in fascination.

“Pictures,” she said, feeling breathless with happiness. “You’ve seen pictures of me? Mama found you, didn’t she? When you said you had a wife at home—”

“Claire,” he interrupted. The wide mouth had made its decision; it split into a smile that lit his eyes like the sun in the dancing tree leaves. He grabbed her arms, tight enough to startle her.

“You’ll not have seen her, then? Christ, she’ll be mad wi’ joy!” The thought of her mother was overwhelming. Her face cracked, and the tears she had been holding back for days spilled down her cheeks in a flood of relief, half choking her as she laughed and cried together.

“Here, lassie, dinna weep!” he exclaimed in alarm. He let go of her arm and snatched a large, crumpled handkerchief from his sleeve. He patted tentatively at her cheeks, looking worried.

“Dinna weep, a leannan, dinna be troubled,” he murmured. “It’s all right, m’ annsachd; it’s all right.”

“I’m all right; everything’s all right. I’m just—happy,” she said. She took the handkerchief, wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “What does that mean—a leannan? And the other thing you said?”

“You’ll not have the Gaelic, then?” he asked, and shook his head. “No, of course she wouldna have been taught,” he murmured, as though to himself.

“I’ll learn,” she said firmly, giving her nose a last wipe. “A leannan?”

A slight smile reappeared on his face as he looked at her.

“It means ‘darling,’ ” he said softly. “M’ annsachd—my blessing.”

The words hung in the air between them, shimmering like the leaves. They stood still, both stricken suddenly with shyness by the endearment, unable to look away from each other, unable to find more words.

“Fa—” Brianna started to speak, then stopped, suddenly seized with doubt. What should she call him? Not Daddy. Frank Randall had been Daddy to her all her life; it would be a betrayal to use that name to another man—any other man. Jamie? No, she couldn’t possibly; rattled as he was by her appearance, he had still a formidable dignity that forbade such casual use. “Father” seemed remote and stern—and whatever Jamie Fraser might be, he wasn’t that; not to her.

He saw her hesitate and flush, and recognized her trouble.

“You can … call me Da,” he said. His voice was husky; he stopped and cleared his throat. “If—if ye want to, I mean,” he added diffidently.

“Da,” she said, and felt the smile bloom easily this time, unmarred by tears. “Da. Is that Gaelic?”

He smiled back, the corners of his mouth trembling slightly.

“No. It’s only … simple.”

And suddenly it was all simple. He held out his arms to her. She stepped into them and found that she had been wrong; he was as big as she’d imagined—and his arms were as strong about her as she had ever dared to hope.

#answered #book quotes #drums of autumn

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shewhowantsmouseears · 8 years ago

Text

Love Like Lava, 7

Notes: As always, big thanks to my wonderful editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted!

See the light where the sky meets the sea, it calls me~ Hahaha, yeah, I'm amused that I chose a story that's deeply connected to the sea while Moana is a smash hit. But just how connected is Minnie and the others to the sea? You'll just have to see how far I'll go ;)

I'd like to thank some extra people for this chapter - my pals known as Zumi, Greta, LoneWolfPrincess, and Tsa. These duck fanatics really encouraged me to make this feathery chapter.

Summary: Legend says that Hades kidnapped Persephone to be his bride. But now Minnie will learn the truth from the victim's own mouth - if she is a victim at all.

As much as Minnie wanted to devote every single second she had to learning about Mickey, she didn't want to neglect time with her dear friends. So on this crisp windy day as Daisy encouraged Minnie to follow her, holding her hand as they moved around thin trees and ignored wildlife. Of course, that didn't stop Minnie from speaking of Mickey, Mickey, Mickey - amazing Mickey, handsome Mickey, Mickey who loved his family and protected them with his words. Daisy could barely get a word in otherwise, but she found the puppy-love charming. Besides, Minnie was still new to many ways of the world, including the emotion she was supposedly in charge of. Maybe she'd calm down once she was used to it, so Daisy told herself.

When Daisy noticed Minnie pausing in her words, trying to exactly describe the adorable way Mickey's tongue stuck out when he worked on something that required delicate patience, she seized the chance to speak. “Today's going to be a special day for you and I.”

It did the trick and Minnie was instantly distracted, blinking rapidly to remind herself that, oh yeah, they were walking towards something instead of aimlessly wandering. “Huh? Why is that?”

“One way or another, you've become my friend, so you're going to have a privilege very few gods or goddesses know of.” Her beak tilted upwards, pride shown in boastful sunflowers trailing through her hair. “I know I can trust you not to tell anyone else, without my explicit permission.” She had a feeling that Minnie would try to get said permission to tell Mickey.

“What is it, what is it?” Minnie inched up closer to her friend, holding her entire arm in anticipation. “I won't tell a single soul, I promise!” A pause as Daisy awaited the expected. “Unless you'd say it's okay to tell Mickey. But I won't even tell him if you say no.”

“Good girl,” Daisy chuckled, a little embarrassed at how easily Minnie could push a smile onto Daisy's face. Daisy had distrusted others for so long that to have someone so casually take up a spot in her heart was confusing. She wanted to believe it was Minnie's sunny personality that won her over, but there was always that nagging worry far in the back of her mind – that perhaps Minnie was so beautiful, or that just by being the goddess of love, you had no choice except to love her. That worrisome thought was a smidgen louder today, in that only one other person knew of what she would show Minnie. “Watch your step, the shore is pretty steep here.”

“Shore?” Minnie slowed down their walk as their feet hit the sand. Daisy had said time and time again that coincidences didn't truly exist, and now Minnie was starting to believe it. Over and over Minnie found herself back at the sea – it was where she had emerged, where Goofy had lost his lady fair, where she learned of Mickey's existence and soon after discovered Mickey herself. Was there a deeper connection hiding in the waves? She almost didn't hear Daisy call after her – the demi-goddess of plants had let go of her hand to heartily run towards the water, and there was the special surprise.

Minnie was expecting something a bit more grand than a weathered old sailboat that sat halfway in the sand. There wasn't even a port for it to dock, and it lay wedged into the sand.Age hadn't been kind to this boat, with worn out sides and chipped white paint. The sails had been ripped and sewn back together more times than anyone could count, with different colors showing that the original cloth was long since gone. Yet Daisy raced toward it as if it was a beautiful treasure, running her hands along the bow as a noble woman would touch fine silk. “This is my most prized possession,” Daisy declared, turning around with her hands on her hips. “Mine and Donald's! And only you get to see it.”

“It's...got a lot of history.” It was the only compliment Minnie could conceive at the moment. If it was owned by divine beings, why was it in such shoddy shape? She knocked a tiny fist against the hull. “Which one of you made it?”

“Neither of us did,” Daisy said as she took Minnie by the shoulders and pushed her up the tiny ladder on the back. “This is a mortal-made ship. Donald bought it long ago under the guise of a mortal. He leaves it here for me so I can go sailing whenever I want. Now, sit there and wait!”

“Wait for what?” Minnie didn't get an answer as Daisy began to push and shove the boat – inch by inch, it began to retreat back into the water. Once it was submerged, Daisy jumped onto the ladder, and once she was inside her hands worked on pulleys and ropes to make the different parts of the boat move to her command. Minnie's skepticism vanished and was replaced by the awe of the boat's mechanisms and Daisy's mastery of the sails. The wind blew into the cloth, and the boat slowly began to move off into the distance, leaving a gradual wake behind. “We're moving!” Minnie squealed with delight, moving to dip her hands in the cold water as they continued to sail on.

The boat was very small, and probably wouldn't have been able to handle another two on its deck. It clearly wasn't meant for great voyages and heroic trips with adventure. It simply moved from one place to the next, but that was all the girls could ever want. Soon the sandy shore was but a glimpse on the horizon, and they were alone on the water, the wind in their hair. Daisy inhaled deeply, the salty scent of the sea finer than any fragrance. “The ocean is never the same each time you come to it,” she said, slowing down her furious activity now that the boat was capable of going ahead on its own. “And that's what we love about it. On Mount Olympus, things are never changing, and as gods, sometimes we don't change for centuries. But each time we wade into the water, there is something new to see. The fish will always move to a different place, and the sun will greet you in a different direction. Do you understand?”

Minnie did, or at last she thought she did. What she understood most of all was that Daisy deeply and truly loved her friend – this wasn't a rehearsed speech, but one made of passion, where she wanted Minnie involved her world. Minnie couldn't stop smiling, resisting the urge to hug her companion – she feared doing so would send them both into the water. “You know, I heard a man named Poseidon is in charge of the sea,” she brought up. “With the way you and Donald love it, maybe he should've been in charge instead.”

Daisy had her back to Minnie, but her shoulders lowered, and muscles began to clench up. “Yeah...if all was right and fair in the world, Donald would be the god of the ocean. That was all he wanted when they were playing for their roles.” Daisy knew Minnie would ask, and Minnie knew Daisy knew, so she didn't even bother asking and merely waited for the answer. “Centuries ago, Zeus, Poseidon, and Donald took down their tyrant of a father in order to free the world. Funny enough, he'd done the same to his father. I bet Zeus crosses his fingers every day hoping it won't be his turn next.” She shook her head to return to the subject at hand. “With him gone, there were three important roles to fill - ruler of the sea, ruler of the dead, and ruler of the gods. They didn't want to fight over it, so they left it to a game of dice.” A bitter chuckle. “To this day, I still believe they rigged it so Donald would have the one position the other two didn't want.”

Daisy began to turn around, and for once she seemed to be her true age, a worn down woman of decades long since past. “We all have our place in this world, but it shouldn't be decided for us. I worry about you a lot, Minnie. You had your titles thrust upon you, and you still don't even know where you came from, do you?”

Minnie slowly shook her head no. “The first memory I have is stepping out of that sea shell. There's nothing else.” By now she'd understood it made no sense, and that everyone came from somewhere. Yet she never bothered asking anyone upon Mount Olympus for answers, knowing that would be a fruitless endeavor.

“And you have those weeds-for-brains up on the mountain thinking you're everyone's girlfriend.” Daisy snorted, pacing up and down the ship's center. “You've been the biggest change they've had in years, and I fear for your future because of that.” She stopped, arms crossed, looking out on the still water. “I want to tell you a story, Minnie. You've probably already heard their version of it – how 'Hades' kidnapped me and now forces me to stay with him for half a year. I imagine to them it makes perfect sense. But that's not even remotely what happened.”

~*~

I guess the easiest place to begin this with would be about my mother, Demeter. She's the official goddess of plants, and you should see her work. Compared to her towering forests, I'm like a dandelion seed. She was one of the most beautiful and powerful goddesses on Mount Olympus, and all the men wanted a chance with her, Zeus included, and she let herself have some fun flings. But when she did fall in love, it was with a mortal man.

Now, it's not forbidden for gods and mortals to, well, enjoy each other's company. Zeus does it almost every day. But it's pretty much a bad idea to actually fall in love with one of them. Their life spans are incredibly small, especially compared to people like us who never age or die. Mother said she could handle it when he inevitably passed. Spoiler – she didn't. And it didn't help that he didn't even die of old age. A bunch of robbers broke into his place and killed him. Don't bother looking for tears on me, Minnie, I was still in the womb when this happened. I never knew the man.

Anyway, with him dead, Mother went nuts. First she blamed Donald, accusing him of taking away her husband on purpose because he was jealous of her happiness. Let me tell you right now, not only would Donald never kill anyone, he can't. He doesn't actually control death, he just keeps things organized in the Underworld. Every now and then he can try to bargain with the Sisters of Fate to keep someone alive longer, but it's always a risky gamble and never a guarantee. Not to mention Donald rarely visited the mountain in the first place. Not only does his work keep him busy, but they all treat him like a pariah. They assumed that because of his role, he must be gloomy and scary and depressing. They still assume that today.

Moving on. Out I came, and Mother went into full panic mode. She was afraid of losing me too, and never let me out of her sight. When I say never, Minnie, I mean never. For years I was forbidden to leave Mount Olympus, and I was like you for a while. I didn't know anything and no one bothered to tell me anything except what they thought was important. That's when I first learned about “Hades”, and all the stories about him. Like how he “laughed like a madman” when the dice rolled his way, and how he “stalks the souls of the living”, eager to have them die. I believed it all. Why wouldn't I, when no one would tell me different?

You know how dull Mount Olympus is. I was bored to tears, but I couldn't leave my mother's side. She decided what I ate, what I wore, even how I was supposed to sit on my throne. Then one day, she got this crazy notion that if I married one of the gods up there, I'd always be safe even when we wouldn't be together. I hated the idea, but my opinion meant squat. It was also a blessing in disguise, though, because while she was interviewing other gods to see who was worthy enough for my hand, it meant a chance to escape. So I headed right for the mortal plane, and just like you, I went wherever I felt like, learning everything I could.

Eventually I found that exact same shore you and I were just on. I saw this boat and thought it was absolute junk. I would have moved on, but that's when I saw a good looking guy – who I thought was a mortal - wrestling with the sailing rope, unable to undo a knot. Being the generous soul that I am, I offered to help him.

~*~

“HAHAHAHAHA! WHAT KIND OF MORON DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO UNDO A KNOT?!” Daisy “forgot” to mention that being under Demeter's demented eye left her a tad spoiled. So her snotty superior attitude had her howling in laughter at Donald's failed attempt, and doubly so when Donald was so startled he fell into the water.

If he wasn't flapping around in the water, Donald would have unwillingly poofed into his smoky form, but for now his temper wasn't as hot as it could have been. “Who're you calling a moron! I bet you don't know anything about sailing!”

“I'm pretty sure the first rule is not to go into the water!” Daisy cackled, holding her stomach due to how hard she was laughing.

“Why you doggone stubborn little...” Donald marched out of the water, squeezing what he could out of his robes. “I only have so much free time today, and I ain't gunna waste it listening to you giggling like a hyena! Sailing comes with all kinds of different knots! Why, I bet you don't even know what that is!” He indignantly pointed at what Daisy thought was just the boat itself.

“It's a boat, duh,” Daisy snorted as she tried to catch her breath.

“Name that part of the boat,” Donald demanded, still pointing, water dripping from his beak. For the record, it was the rudder.

“It's...the...boat part.” Oh, what did she care what some foolish mortal thought of her? She was born better than him anyway. “Whatever it is! It's a hideous thing anyway.”

“HEY! Nobody insults my baby and gets away with it!” “I JUST DID!”

“YOU THINK YOU'RE SO SMART?!” He was seconds away from poofing at this point, but a wicked idea saved him from unknowingly revealing himself. Donald was also under the impression that this was a mortal woman, and while he didn't care about the rules of superiority and inferiority, he did care when people of any race dared to abuse his pride and joy. He suddenly scooped Daisy up into his arms – ignoring her shrieks and kicks – and tossed her onto the boat. “There, let's see you sail!”

Daisy was on her feet in seconds, snapping Venus fly traps curling in her hair. Donald might've taken notice if he wasn't so pleased by her furious reply. “How dare you – do you have any idea who I am?!”

“Nope! Couldn't care less!” Donald grinned devilishly as he began to push the boat onto the water. “Go ahead, toots, try and make me pay for it – if you can get back here!”

“I – I will! And you'll be sorry!” Logically she could have teleported to his side and given him the walloping of a lifetime, but her dignity would be gone forever. How hard could sailing be? But now she was in the boat and actually looking at all the handles and pulleys and ropes, it was like staring into the jaws of a wild animal. She stuttered at a loss, aimlessly trying everything and getting nowhere fast. She wound up smacking herself with the boom, and getting tangled in the sails. “Get over here and help meee!” she whined, flailing her arms in a pathetic motion to free herself.

“Apologize to my baby and I'll help you!”

“I AM NOT APOLOGIZING TO YOUR CRUDDY UGLY BOAT!”

“THEN STAY THERE FOREVER, SEE IF I CARE!”

~*~

We didn't get off to a great start.

I got fed up and vanished back onto Mount Olympus, which was probably Donald's first clue that I wasn't mortal either. I told myself that being bored there was far better than dealing with a cranky, violent mortal. Mother hadn't noticed I was gone, though her candidates for marriage had narrowed down. As I stayed there, stewing over what had happened, I told myself that I could learn more about boats and prove myself better than that silly man with a weird voice. That was about the time I borrowed Mother's Viewing Mirror, and she never bothered to ask why I even wanted it. I had to admit, mortals could be really interesting. I told myself I was only looking to upset that man, and once I had accomplished my task, I'd never look again. But let's face it, compared to the same old parties up there, the eternally changing mortal plane was a book you could never put down.

The next time around I pushed my mother to distraction, asking her to make positively sure that Apollo was a worthy man for me. She was so delighted by me faking interest that she didn't even question it. So I headed back down to the same shore, but while the boat was there, he wasn't. Donald can't come up whenever he feels like it, he has to schedule time in advance. While I waited for him to make an appearance, I tried to test my newfound knowledge on his boat. But seeing someone else do it is worlds different than trying it for myself, and I wound up a mess all over again, tied up in ropes and sails without the boat ever leaving the sand. Even worse, he never showed up that day.

Day after day I waited for him, telling Mother about different gods that could be good protectors, even demi-gods from below or children Zeus had fathered. It was weeks before I finally saw him again, and I thought I was ready to show off my new skills.

~*~

“You didn't attach the tack to its shackle.”

“SHUT UP! I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!”

“Well, whenever you get done with that, you have to pull the outhaul-”

“I'LL GET TO IT WHEN I GET TO IT!”

“I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU!”

“WHO ASKED FOR YOUR HELP!?”

~*~

By then we were kinda sure each other was a god and goddess, otherwise we wouldn't have survived the bruising we gave one another. It made me feel a touch better knowing that I wasn't losing to a mortal, but it still stung all the same. I wanted him to know how great I was, to acknowledge me as his better. Each time I would return to Mount Olympus, I would get praised on how pretty I was, but it felt...hollow. Like I hadn't done anything worthy of their compliments except exist. They couldn't praise my powers, since they were obviously weaker than my mother's, so my looks were all I had. Yeah, you know how that feels, don't you, Minnie?

But I wasn't totally hopeless, and I did manage to get better.

~*~

“Watch your telltales. You're wasting energy like this, just let out the sail.”

“But if I do that, I'll have to let go, and you said to keep my hand steady!”

“I know what I said! Just – here, let me show you.”

“No! No! I can do it! I know I can do it.”

~*~

We wouldn't try to go anywhere in particular. Sometimes we'd just drift out onto the ocean and see the sun set. Other times we'd pass by mortal villages and watch fishermen take in their haul. Donald knew a lot of them by name, mostly because he knew their dead relatives, but I still didn't know “who” he was. It didn't really seem to matter. But in his head, he had his reasons not to tell me. If I'd known on day one that he was Hades, I would have run away screaming and never turned back. I told him easily enough that I was Persephone, that I was Daisy, that I was a useless daughter with no ambition save for a wedding ring.

~*~

After he heard that, Donald had taken her hand and turned the palm up. “It's a shame about the ambrosia,” he said, tsking. “Heals all of our wounds instantly, so you can't have the tough callouses the mortals have. They'd be proof enough that you've got more ambition than any of those lazy vagabonds up on the mountain.”

“Does that include all the bumps on my head I should've gotten every time the boom hit me? At that rate, I should've been the demi-goddess of concussions.” A tiny chuckle.

“C'mon, I mean it. There's nothing wrong with not having an exact goal right now.” The boat was smoothly passing between two cliffs, a creaky bridge far above them. The night was approaching and glitters of stars dotted the sky. The wind was dying down for now, and they felt safe enough to sit. “One man might think he'll grow up to be a farmer, and becomes a soldier instead. Even gods and goddess should have the opportunity to at least look for what they want.”

Opportunity – what a foreign word. Daisy had thought that because she had the blood of a goddess flowing through her, that this was enough to justify her existence. But now she wasn't sure of a lot of things. She wanted worth in a different form, she wanted equality, and so many other things she never even knew existed before meeting Donald. She was quiet for a while. “I don't want to be like my mother, deciding things for someone else and being afraid of things we can't control.”

“Then don't be like her. Be yourself. It's not as hard as you think it is. If nobody else likes you as yourself, it doesn't matter as long as you like yourself.”

She glanced up at that. “Do you like yourself?”

“You're darn right I do.” He grinned in that egotistical way she'd come to find entertaining. “I do my job and I do it well, and I'm the best sailor in the whole wide world. And if someone doesn't like me, then they're not worth my time. It takes effort to know people, and laziness just to guess and dislike without a chance. And you, little lady, are not lazy.”

“... Donald?”

“Yeah?”

“You're still holding my hand.”

So he was. “Uh.” So he was still was. “Uhhh.” Still holding it. “I was – just – um – I was going to – to help you practice rigging the preventer!” This involved nearly squishing Daisy's hand to the boom and tying yet another intricate knot. As the blushing ducks debated whether to speak of whatever happened between them, peeking at each other and then pretending they hadn't, Donald made a deep decision. How was she to like him if he didn't tell her who he was? “Daisy, I'm not sure how to put this.”

“Hm.” Daisy was no longer naive about the world, including the many interests of men, and she wasn't exactly objecting to the idea of being Donald's interest. With the knot completed, she rolled her shoulders, coyly fluttering her eyelashes. “I'm listening.” As she began to twirl hair around her finger, a red rose dropping petals tangled in her hands, she expected a confession of how jaw-droppingly gorgeous he found her and he needed her every night and day. She was still a bit spoiled.

But instead of satiating Daisy's fantastic ego, Donald rubbed his knuckles, avoiding her intense gaze. “What do you know about the god Hades?”

Daisy blinked slowly, the candle of lust promptly snuffed out. How disappointing. “That he's some creep who rules the Underworld and kills little children because their mother's cry is music to his ears?”

“Oh, come on.” Donald slapped an open hand to his face, pulling it down hard.

“So what?” Daisy was about to drop her sleeve in an attempt for Donald to focus on something far more gratifying. “What does that monster have to do with you and me right now? It's got nothing to - ” But for all of Daisy's faults, and there were a great number of them, stupidity wasn't among them. Her hand froze as she understood exactly why he asked, and why he now looked so crestfallen, his entire body sagging. In that moment Daisy recalled every horrifying story she'd ever been told about Hades, most of them by her devastated mother. A beast, a merciless creature, a demon who relished in pain and suffering.

But a demon who relished in pain and suffering wouldn't have held her hand so tenderly.

“I don't – I don't care,” she blurted out, rising to her feet so fast that the boat began to wobble.

“Daisy, be careful!” “I don't care!” she shouted louder this time, hands rolled into fists, her eyes feeling hot. “I don't care what they say about you on Mount Olympus, because – because it can't be true, none of it's true! I know who you are, they don't!”

Color flooded Donald's white cheeks, but he tried to hold off her compassion, his hands out and ready to steady her if she tipped over. “It's more than that, Daisy! Once your mother and everyone finds out I've been spending time with you, they'll treat you like dirt too!”

“I don't care!”

“They'll say bad things about you too, and they'll trample all over you!”

“I don't care!”

“Daisy, you don't understand, they-”

“I SAID I DON'T CARE, YOU MORON, ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!”

“I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU OUT, YOU OBNOXIOUS BRAT!”

~*~

And that was the first time we made out. It was totally worth falling off of the boat. Anyway, it was obvious to me that once Donald took up ruling the Underworld, his family abandoned him. Despite all he'd done to help overthrow his father, they treated Donald like he was unworthy just because of a pair of dice. Yet despite all that, he was kind and caring and he helped me. How could you not fall in love with someone who wouldn't let centuries of hate and gossip destroy his good heart?

But I was spending so much time with Donald that I had long since stopped paying attention to what was happening on Mount Olympus. If you'll remember, I said that Mother was trying to get me hitched and I had pretended to be interested. I thought maybe she'd be so picky and fearful that she'd never settle on whoever would be my husband, and boy was I wrong. Not too long after Donald and I told each other how we felt, Mother dropped the bombshell – she approved of Apollo, and we were to be married.

Gladstone, right? I don't have to tell you that guy's annoying with a big fat UGH. Of course I said no, and I followed it up with that I didn't want to marry anyone. Mother said that it was for my own good, and that I couldn't possibly know what I wanted, that she knew me better than I knew myself. This from a woman who didn't realize her daughter was gone for weeks! It turned into a screaming match the likes of Mount Olympus had never heard before. The complaints poured in, and all the other gods and goddesses couldn't understand “what the big deal was”. Why not just marry Apollo and sit prettily by his side for the rest of eternity? No one was my ally, and surrounded by all sides by people who didn't care what I said to say, I knew I'd be forced into marriage. No amount of begging, pleading, or crying would get them to change their minds. So I did the only thing I could think of – I ran back to the mortal plane.

With all those eyes looking for me, I knew it wouldn't be long before I was found and forcibly dragged back. I ran to the only place I knew I could be comforted – Donald's shore, and mercifully there he was. I told him what was happening, and as far as I knew this was going to be goodbye. I'm amazed he understood a word I was saying through all of my sobbing. There was nowhere on the mortal plane I could hide that Mother wouldn't be able to find me, now that she was actually trying. I didn't want to let go of Donald, and he didn't want to let go of me. I guess that's what gave him the idea, though he told me after that it was a spur of the moment deal.

When I opened my eyes, the two of us were in the Underworld.

Is it dank and dreary? Kind of, yeah. It's an endless cavern lit by candles that never go out, and a green river flows through it, carrying floating islands filled with the dead. But they're actually really cheerful down there, reunited with their friends and family, getting to be whatever age they please at that moment. They share stories of their lives, and await those they miss most. But back to me. Donald instantly began apologizing, saying this was the only place he could think of to buy me some time while I thought of what to do. You have to give him credit – it was exactly the one place no one thought to look.

I was shocked at first, but compared to what was about to happen to me up above? This was paradise. Maybe if I stayed down here long enough, Mother would cancel the marriage and I could return to the surface and sail with Donald. Until then, I didn't mind staying there. It's really quite cozy once you get used to the place. He's got this adorable three-headed dog who is the sweetest thing, just expect three times the slobber when he licks you. The Sisters of Fate aren't exactly pleasant company, but they do know how to weave a good story. The dead were always delighted to have more company, and I got to see Donald at the role that “destiny” supposedly gave him.

And he does a dang good job. He makes sure no spirits escape, even if he has to grab them himself and yank them down. He helps the lost lovers find one another, and has even conducted a few marriages where everyone is invited. When little children who come there far too early have to wait for their parents, he plays with them and keeps them from crying. He told me he'd like little ones of his own someday – he has no confidence about himself as a father, but maybe as an uncle, with a gang of nephews to call his own.

I missed the sunshine and the sea, but I was allowed to talk to whoever I wanted and actually got full conversations back. I could go wherever I wanted on the river Styx, teach Cerberus new tricks, examine the strings that the Sisters would tangle, but I was given one rule – I couldn't eat or drink anything while I was there. I found that out after Donald slapped a pomegranate out of my hand. Turns out the food and drink keeps the spirits there, and if they left they'd just dissolve into nothing. No one knew what would happen if any god ate one, Donald had never dared, and I wasn't in a hurry to find out.

Whenever new souls found their way into the Underworld, I was with Donald, wanting to see how he reacted to new families finding one another. He's not a huge romantic, but he knew when I needed his arms, and I could erase his stress with just one kiss. We were happy, and curse whoever says otherwise! There were days I thought I would be content never to return to the surface so long as I had my Donald. But the longer I stayed there, the sooner we noticed that a lot more souls were coming in than usual. When I say a lot, I mean dozens at a time, then more, then hundreds. At first we thought some giant war was spreading across Greece, but the souls told us that they'd starved to death. The less I go into detail the better.

Did I mention my Mother was nuts? This was nuts into overdrive. When she searched every inch of the world and found no trace of me, she got so upset she didn't do her job – she didn't command the plants to grow. In case you didn't know, mortals really need plants in order to live. No grass, no trees, no vegetables or fruits, nothing was growing and what remained was dying. Animals starved, and it followed that mortals starved too. Zeus tried to demand Demeter to restore things, but she refused, and because he has the spine of a jellyfish, he couldn't think of anything else to do except demand things in a slightly louder voice. It's not like he could kill her. With the ambrosia that flows in Mount Olympus, all of our wounds heal instantly.

When Donald and I realized what was going on, we knew I had to return to Mother's side before everything on the mortal plane died. I cried and ranted and pulled out my hair at how unfair it all was, how everything was suffering just because I didn't want to obey her ridiculous orders. But Donald, sweet Donald, he said he wouldn't force me to go. He left it up to me. Which, in a way, was almost worse. So I asked to have some time to say goodbye to everyone before I went back.

I also did something extra, but didn't tell Donald. He'd definitely have stopped me if he found out beforehand.

~*~

Donald had gone to Olympus first to try and explain things, but the moment he said that Daisy was in the Underworld, he was blamed by every single soul. Demeter screamed that Donald had kidnapped her daughter just to see her suffer even more, and everyone agreed that this was “obviously” what had happened. When Donald ultimately lost his temper and screamed right back, it only made the gods and goddesses more sure that he was a dangerous man who would steal everyone's children for his own desires.

When Daisy joined the group, a hand on her stomach, there was silence for five extremely long seconds. Given how the men and women were surrounding Donald, she could tell right away that things had gone from bad to worse. She tried to reach for Donald's hand, but was clasped into a tight embrace by Demeter.

“Oh, my precious Persephone!” Her fingers dug into her daughter, as if her limbs would protect her from Donald. “It's all right now! I won't ever let that awful man get near you again!”

“Awful? He's awful?” Daisy grabbed a fistful of her mother's hair, yanking her down so they were on eye level. “You let thousands die – you made them die! If you think I'm going to let you badmouth him after that murder tantrum you just threw, you've lost your mind!” Demeter tried to reason that they were merely mortals, but Daisy wasn't done, pushing her aside to snap and growl at the other immortals. “And all of you just let her do this! You all think you're so much better than mortals, but you...” Her rant was postposed as a sharp pain stabbed her stomach, and she hunch over, clenching her teeth. “You...All of you...What's the point of being so powerful, if all you do is just party and...”

“Daisy?” While Donald hadn't spent a lot of time in the presence of other gods and goddesses, even he knew that such sudden pain wasn't normal. He tried to reach for her, but Demeter violently slapped him away, screeching at him that this was his fault.

“Shut up, mother!” Daisy managed to hiss out while bent over, sweat dripping down her feathers. “He does the most important job in the whole wide world, and you all treat him like garbage! You...augh...” She held herself, her vision beginning to blur, yet she refused to stop speaking, needing her opinion heard even if it went ignored. “You...You don't even try to find the truth...You're just happy with whatever is easiest for you! I won't be like you! I won't stay here and...and turn into some empty-headed pawn! I won't let you control my future! I won't let you control me! I...Only I...get to...decide that...”

Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed onto the floor, her breath sharpening. Donald yelled her name in horror, and he knelt down to scoop her up into his arms, begging her to know what happened. Demeter burst into terrified sobs, while the other gods and goddesses didn't dare move – what if whatever Daisy “caught” touched them? As tears began to roll down Donald's cheeks, he only now saw the fruit that spilled out of Daisy's robe – a pomegranate with a fresh bite mark. “What?! This is...” He snatched it up, squeezing it in hot anger and grief. “I told you! I told you not to eat anything! Why did you...You stupid, stupid brat!”

Daisy curled up in his embrace, smiling despite the agony her insides were writhing through. “Because...I finally...found a way...to like myself...” A hard gulp of air. “Some people fight...with swords and shields...this is...how I wanted...to fight...”

But now that the source of the sickness had been revealed, all was not lost. Hera wordlessly stood up from her throne, plucking one of the flowers that grew between the throne of her and her husband. It was possible she didn't know if this would work, and equally possible that she didn't mind if Daisy died right then and there. No one dared to ask Hera how her mind worked or what her motivations were that day. She knelt down, tilting the flower toward's Daisy's open mouth, and the ambrosia poured in.

Daisy's body bucked, thrashing in quiet torment, and hundreds of vines sprouted from her body, popping off flowers of all shapes and colors that died instantaneously. The process repeated again and again, until finally the vines slipped away, and Daisy was breathing normally, the fever gone from her face. A voice dared to speak up – Gladstone's. “Is...Is she going to be all right?”

“I-I don't know,” Donald confessed, helping his beloved sit up in his arms. “The seeds of the Underworld can't be digested and they will never go away. This might work for now, but...she might have to go back to the Underworld for a bit to recover.”

“I won't let you steal her again!” Demeter found her voice and her anger again, towering over Donald as she shook with fury. “She is a bride to be, not yours to take!”

“Yeaaaah. About that.” There came Gladstone again, raising his hand upward. “I've never had bad luck happen to me before, so I'm not entirely sure if this is it, but...I'd really rather not marry anyone who's been in the Underworld. She's been around dead people. Kinda gross. No offense, Persephone dear.”

“None taken,” Daisy replied groggily.

Demeter's face fell, and with her momentum stolen, she faced the other men, trying to gain their support. “Well, she...She'd still be an excellent bride! Any one of you can have her, I trust you!”

“No thanks,” said Mortimer.

“No way,” said Pete.

“It pains me to say this, but I must pass,” said Zeus, fully aware that Hera was glaring daggers at him. It followed that every male god on the mountain, including the visiting demi-gods and all other types of creatures and beasts visiting their favorite deity, politely declined marrying used goods.

With each rejection, Demeter's body appeared to shrink a little more, and she had no weaponry left except to lash out at Donald. “You! This is your fault! You planned this!”

“First off, lady, I am not that clever,” Donald growled as he wiped the tears from his face. “Second off, as much as you'd like to believe otherwise, I don't put people in harm's way to get what I want. Unlike some people. Now I am going to take her back to the Underworld so she can rest! And if you actually care about your daughter, or about anyone other than yourself, you won't cause another apocalypse!” With one last huff, he stood on his feet, cradling Daisy close to his chest. “Anything else you want to say to 'em before we head back?”

Daisy didn't have the words, but felt a long, wet raspberry would suffice.

~*~

So it turned out that I have to stay in the Underworld for a few months every year, or I'll get super sick all over again. And when that happens, Mother throws another tantrum, but at least it's shorter this time around, and since then, the mortals kind of see it coming and know what to do. That's what you can always count on mortals to do – adapt to change. They're really amazing that way. I've also made a vow to never return to Mount Olympus. It's got nothing I want up there.

Being a goddess is a bizarre thing, Minnie. Sometimes I think the mortals don't really need us at all. They'll always find ways to move on and survive on their own. They'll make bigger ships than this, faster ones, and they'll have this entire world in their hands. Maybe one day there will come a time when they forget all about us...and that might be for the best. We shouldn't be allowed to decide their future or shape it in any way. The same goes for you and me.

You are unique, Minnie, in so many ways. We don't know where you came from, what you can do, or how the future will turn out. But don't you ever let anyone but you decide it. Not even Mickey. Whether you find your place in the world or you never do, it doesn't matter as long as you are happy with yourself. As long as you like yourself, no one has the right to tell you where to go and what to do. And if they try? You fight it in whatever way you can. I'll be by your side all the way.

~*~

“And you can stop hugging me now.” Daisy thought that sappy speech was embarrassing enough on its own, but of course Minnie had to make it worse by holding Daisy tightly from behind and almost tipping her over. “For goodness sake. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not dying anymore.”

“I know,” Minnie sniffled, deeply moved by the story told and the meanings behind it. “But I love you so much, my dear Daisy. I truly do. You're my best friend in the whole wide world.” She had not once believed that Donald had ever kidnapped Daisy, even long before she met the man for herself. The fact that they still perpetuated that lie angered her in a place deep within her soul, doubly so that they would never accept it even if Minnie said otherwise. It also told her that if anyone on the mountain ever found out what she was doing with Mickey, they'd twist and turn it into something disgusting and horrible to suit their own needs. They couldn't be trusted.

“Okay, but I can't steer the boat with you hugging me like this, and I have to return the boat to shore before Donald gets mad.” She reached to try and untangle Minnie's fingers from her stomach. “And I'll have to ask Donald for permission before you show the boat to Mickey.”

Minnie blinked, surprised, which allowed Daisy to safely push her off. “How did you know that's what I wanted to do next?”

“Because you're obsessed with that little weirdo, that's how.” A knowing flick to Minnie's black nose. “If my story didn't tip you off, that mouse must've never been to Mount Olympus, because he'd have drunk the ambrosia and never had his leg shaped that way. But whenever a god has a child, they're fully allowed to bring that kid to the mountain and have a drink of it. So whoever popped that kid out hasn't told a soul about him, and might not want anyone to know he exists.”

Minnie was about to ask why anyone wouldn't want to know about marvelous Mickey, but a thought changed her mind. “What if he came out of nowhere, just like me?” It would be another sign of how they were meant to be, so Minnie saw it.

“I'd normally say that's impossible, but with you, I suppose anything is now.” Daisy shrugged before heading to the bow of the ship. “A mystery falling in love with a mystery. It's very fitting.” With a roll of her shoulders, she set to steer the ship around. “Now, watch me do it. I'll teach you everything I know so you can sail away with Mickey into the sunset.”

“You can count on me, I'll have it all memorized!” Mickey matters aside, she was always eager to learn something new and Daisy was glad to teach. As they pulled ropes and measures sails, Daisy quietly hoped Donald would give them permission to show the boat to Mickey. As much as she loathed her mother's suffocating hold, there was pity to be had for Mickey, who had nothing and no one save for forgetful fish women. She hoped Minnie was right and that Mickey really did come from “nowhere”, so it meant he wasn't abandoned and forcefully forgotten.

Yet she recalled Donald's look when she first told him of Mickey, of his leg and his cave – a look of despair, of heartache and regret. She hadn't been able to needle the story out of him yet, but there definitely was a story there in the waiting. When would he speak of Mickey, and did she really want to hear it? What other disasters had those on Mount Olympus created?

Daisy's fingers found themselves on Minnie's shoulder, clenching her close in a protective hold. They would not cause Minnie pain, not if Daisy had anything to say about it. She would protect her friend.

But as they sailed around the cold waters, with Minnie's mind burning in a hundred new directions, Daisy had no idea that the one Minnie might need protection from was herself.

#disney #fanfic #love like lava #minnie mouse #daisy duck #donald duck #gladstone gander

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agents-of-france · 8 years ago

Text

2 boyz 1 bathroom

Warning: This fic contains graphic descriptions of self harm and mentions of torture. Please proceed with caution.

Rationally Grantaire was well aware he made some poor choices. Exceptionally poor choices really. But it’s not he woke up one morning and decided this was something he was going to do. Sometimes he needed to get away from the others, and this was what he did when he was alone. Really at this point, it was just a habit. A habit he wasn’t ready to quit. At least everyone had stopped watching him like a hawk, stopped holding their breath every time he picked up something remotely sharp. They had better things to worry about than R scratching his skin raw and bloodied on the bathroom floor, moving on to cutting when it still didn’t feel like enough.

Courfeyrac was . . . better. Yes, that was the word for it. Less nightmares, less voices in his head telling him that these people wanted to hurt him. Marius had been a big help, they had all been a big help. And though Courfeyrac was still wary around certain individuals, he was allowed to go around the current safe house on his own - they were treating him like an agent again.

He was going to see if Feuilly needed anything when he heard an expletive from behind one of the doors. Pausing, he knocked, remembering how Feuilly had hidden away that day that he took off his arm. “Hello?” He asked in the gentlest voice he could muster.

“Occupied,” Grantaire replied, just a little too fast, instinctively finding a towel to press to the inside of his forearm. He had just nicked himself a little deeper than intended, he didn’t think anyone would hear him. It wasn’t bad enough to be an emergency, more like an inconvenience. Either way, there was no way in hell he was letting someone see this.

Courfeyrac swore. Something about Grantaire’s voice sounded off. He needed to go find the others - R had been self-destructive before, who knew what FRANCE had done to him. But if he left, and something happened, Courfeyrac could never forgive himself. So instead he took a deep breath. “R, what's going on?” He asked, still fighting to keep his voice soothing.

Damn, he said literally one word and he couldn’t even say it convincingly. “What makes you think something is going on?” He shouldn’t even have to think of an excuse, should he? After all most people tended to avoid having conversations through the bathroom door.

Courfeyrac closed his eyes and sighed. Something was definitely wrong. But how to get Grantaire to let him in? “R, we lived together for years, I can hear that something is wrong from your voice.” He wondered if the door was locked and if Jehan might be up to picking it if it was.

“I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think you’re as good at that as you think. Because I’m fine.” Grantaire wasn’t really finished, he could still inflict a lot more damage but if Courf was going to start getting on his case he might as well start trying to hide the evidence.

Grantaire did not sound fine. He sounded the opposite of fine. Courfeyrac hesitated for a moment; maybe R was right, maybe it was nothing and he had just lost his touch. But something in his gut told him that the other man was in trouble. In any case, it was worth the risk of embarrassment. They used to have communal showers for heaven’s sake. Testing the door handle to see if it was locked, he sighed in relief. It wasn’t. Without waiting (for fear that he would lose his nerve) Courfeyrac threw the door open.

Shit. The one time R forgets to lock the door shit like this happens. “What the hell Courf?” This had to look bad. How was he supposed to explain this away? ‘I ran into the coffee table again’ or ‘it was a freak shaving accident’ wouldn’t exactly work.

Courfeyrac sighed. “I could ask you the same question R.” He said, taking a cautious step forwards. “I’m not here to judge you, but you are obviously not ok.”

“I don’t think it’s your place to say whether or not I’m okay.” God Grantaire really didn’t need a lecture right now. “It’s not as bad as it looks. You just caught me at a bad time.”

“Grantaire you have a razor in your hand! To hell with whether it's my place or not!” Courfeyrac could only see about half of R’s arm, the other half was covered by the towel that R was pressing to it. He softened his tone. “Can I see, please?”

“Frankly I don’t think you need to see it, its none of your business.” He retorted, kicking the door closed. If they weren’t careful someone was going to overhear and there were already more people in on this secret than Grantaire preferred.

Courfeyrac held up his hands in a non-threatening manner. Fine, if R didn’t want him to see, it could wait - there was pressure on the wound. “R you’re my friend, I care about you. I’m making it my business. At least tell me what’s going on?”

“What does it look like is going on?” Really it couldn’t be that hard to put the pieces together. Besides, Courfeyrac was the last person he wanted to explain this all to. Courfeyrac was legitimately tortured for weeks, and he was handling that way better than Grantaire was handling a little bit of time alone.

“It looks like-” Damn, that wasn’t going to help. “R, I don’t want to make assumptions.” He said kindly, “Is this because of Enjolras? Because of what FRANCE did to you? Please, I want to help.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” It wasn’t about Enjolras, not originally. But Enj ignoring him didn’t particularly make him want to stop. “I don’t need help. I have everything under control.”

“. . . That's why blood is dripping from the towel. Grantaire it’s ok to be not ok, but it will never get any better if you don’t even acknowledge that you have a problem.” Courfeyrac’s eyes flicked towards the door. “Look, you can tell me what's going on, or I can go get Bossuet, and Marius, and the others.”

“No.” Grantaire snapped. “No, you can't tell them. That's unfair and you know it.” The others couldn't find out. They all had enough on their plates. Bossuet and Joly would worry. The others would think he was being dramatic, after all, he wasn't tortured, FRANCE didn't do anything to him. He didn't even want to imagine what Enjolras would think.

A half dozen comebacks about how life wasn’t fair came to mind, but Courfeyrac wasn’t trying to be cruel. On the other hand, though, this wasn’t healthy. Could Courfeyrac really keep this from them? “Why shouldn’t I tell them, R? Please, I just want to help, you’re my friend.” This was such a delicate situation, and it could go sideways in an instant. He had to talk Grantaire down, figure out what was causing this, and help his friend.

"Just the fact that I'm asking you not to should be enough." Grantaire shouldn't have to convince the other to keep this between them. They were friends, and friends didn't go sharing friend's secrets with the world. "I'm an adult. What I do is my business. They have enough to deal with, I don't want to keep piling on problems."

“Grantaire you’re not a problem, and they would care, and they would help.” Courfeyrac had felt the same way many times in the past before FRANCE blew up their home. “But okay, let's say I don’t tell them. How do I help you? Because this,” He gestured to Grantaire’s arm, “This is not acceptable, and friends don’t let their friends cut their arms open in the bathroom.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think you get to say what is and isn’t acceptable.” He didn’t particularly want Courf’s help, he just wanted to forget all of this ever happened. “I may not be the problem, but you certainly confirmed that this is, I don’t want everyone dealing with it, I don’t want them to know it even exists. Even if they’d want to help, I don’t need them thinking any less of me.”

Courfeyrac shook his head. “They wouldn’t think any less of you. And yeah, maybe I’m not the say so on all of this ‘mental health’ stuff, but I know this isn’t healthy, and I know it needs to stop. Grantaire I know you might not want to admit it, but this is . . . this looks bad. Remember how you held me down so Bossuet could get the chip out of my shoulder? I wasn’t particularly happy about that at the time, but we’d certainly be in a tight spot if you hadn’t. I know, trust me I know, it sucks to deal with things head on, but it's a much better solution in the long run.”

Grantaire resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “You really think they wouldn’t think less of me? FRANCE didn’t touch me, not once. They didn’t do anything. They left me alone. And it still fucked me up. I can’t sleep. I do this. I hardly even noticed Enjolras coming back, because real or not he’s always in the room, and my hallucination ignores me just as much as he does. All of this and nothing even happened to me. They thought I was dramatic before, I don’t want to know what they’d think of me now.” The chip was an issue of safety, this wasn’t even remotely the same thing.

“Grantaire, I know they wouldn’t think less of you. Nobody thinks you’re dramatic - we all go through our own shit and we all support each other through it. That's what family is for.” He wished he knew how to make R see that. “FRANCE tortured us all in ridiculously unique and customized ways that must have taken a ridiculous amount of planning. If you had been in my place, you wouldn’t have been nearly as affected as I was.” He sighed, “I didn’t sleep for a long time either, and sometimes I still have nightmares. They tortured us, R, and that has consequences. I just want to help you deal with yours, you don’t have to go through this alone.”

Grantaire just shook his head, because of course Courfeyrac said that. If Courfeyrac had this problem everyone would understand. Courfeyrac’s issues would be totally justified. Grantaire would be out of line if he was anything other than fine. “I can handle this. I don’t want the others finding out.”

Courfeyrac could tell that he wasn’t getting through to him, but he wasn’t sure what else he could do. “Fine. I won’t tell the others. But you aren’t going through this alone. Tell me what I can do to help.”

R sighed, “Honestly, I have no idea.” He didn’t want it to be like before, with someone keeping an extra close eye on him all the time. He peeled off the towel from his arm, most of the smaller scrapes and cuts had stopped bleeding or slowed down enough he could start washing away the blood. “I’ll try to stop. For real, I’m not just saying that to get you off my back. But I don’t know what you can do.”

“I appreciate that. What about you come see me when you feel like cutting? I know, it's not ideal, I’m sure you’d rather go see someone else, but I’m free most of the time, and I doubt you want to tell anyone else. And then, instead of you cutting, we can do something else, like rip up paper, or color, or anything you want.” Courfeyrac turned to the sink and ran a washcloth under the tap to wet it. Turning back to R, he reached for the other man’s arm, before hesitating. “May I?” He asked, not knowing if the other would feel comfortable with touch.

“Maybe.” Although that didn’t sound like a great solution either. Coloring didn’t exactly have the same effect. “And yeah, knock yourself out.” Grantaire agreed, holding his arm out.

Courfeyrac gently wiped away the dried blood, careful to avoid the deeper cut that hadn’t scabbed yet. “I’m open to suggestions.” He said while he worked, “But you going through this by yourself isn’t an option anymore. You’re your own person, and I’ll respect that as long as you don’t keep doing this. There has to be a better way.”

R nodded, biting his lip. Cleaning the cuts definitely stung more when someone else did it. “I’ll let you know next time I get the urge, we can talk then on the best way to deal with this.”

Courfeyrac nodded. He supposed that was the best he was going to get from R. “Thank you.” He said with a soft smile. He would need to figure out some way to make sure R did tell him of course, but he could worry about that later. “We will figure this out, together, and you will get better, I promise.”

“Okay.” Grantaire didn't particularly want to get better. He didn't know how else to handle all this, and if he lost this then he didn't think he'd be able to classify himself as fine so easily. Getting caught this once was just a slip-up. From now on he’d know how to hide it better. He was a spy for Christ’s sake, he's kept worse hidden from the group.

Courfeyrac studied R’s face, trying to tell if the other was lying. As much as he hated to admit it, he was going to have to check the other man for cuts periodically. Grantaire was going to love that. Courfeyrac opened a drawer and procured a roll of bandages. “Can I wrap it please?” He asked, indicating the now mostly blood-free arm.

“Nah it’s fine. It’s all mostly clotted.” And with their lifestyle, they might want to save those bandages. No telling when you’d need them next.

“At least let me out something on the deep one? It should probably be . . . Well, never mind that.” Courfeyrac found an adhesive bandage instead of the roll.

Grantaire let Courfeyrac apply the band-aid. It really wasn’t worth arguing about anyway, and it might be good to avoid ripping the wound open again later. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome R, you know you can tell me anything, or ask me if you need something. I want to help.” He just wished he could make R trust him. But trying to make people do things had gotten them into this mess.

“Yeah, I know.” Grantaire forced a small smile. In all reality, he couldn’t really do that. Courfeyrac didn’t need to know every little detail of what he was thinking. He was fine. Or he would be. Everything was fine, no one needed to lose any sleep over this. R would just have to press pause on his little hobby until the others believed that too.

#grantiare #courfeyrac #self harm #tw self harm #TW: cutting #mentions of torture #les mis #les amis #les amis de l'abc #agents of france

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