#throw a clone in there for good measure and it’s a party

[loveoaths]

i can’t believe i’m saying this, but if i were to start another Star Wars fanfic, it would probably be maul/padme/thrawn and i just don’t know how to cope with that???

[scooptroopfanfic]

Runaway CH2

Note: Please check the warnings on the Chapter Select before reading

Lucy rings Steve’s doorbell. She is surprised Steve still lives at home, but she really does have the room to judge. As the door opens the packaged popcorn, candy, and Yoo-hoo are revealed to him.

“Hey, Stevie. Wanna let me in so we can get set up?” He grabs one of the bags she has from her pile. Lucy looks back at her brother’s van and waves him off. Chrissy shyly waves as Eddie casually waves at her before he drives off.

“Is your brother taking a girl home? Wait. Is that Chrissy Cunningham?”

“It isn’t like that Stevie. It’s a deal, not a date. You should know about this considering you used to throw a bunch of parties.”

“I didn’t touch that-“ Lucy gives him a knowing look as she enters the home.

“Liar. When Eddie found out we were friends he immediately ratted you out. I don’t really judge. One of the tamer things Eddie has to offer.” She says as she puts down part of her haul on the kitchen counter. “Plus, you outed yourself to Dustin in the elevator last summer.”

“Right. Forgot about that.”

“Fair. We did end up on the weirdest trip I have ever been on thanks to those Russians.” Steve then goes through her haul of snacks meant for the next couple of hours.

“Yoo-hoos?”

“Yeah! They are a Munson essential. Amazing!” Steve gives it a skeptical look. “Come on Stevie! Trust me.” She says as she takes out the popcorn and starts getting it ready.

“Fine. If there are no objections to movies tonight. Robin picked them and said for me to force you to watch it even if you try and be nice and put me out of my misery.” Steve then spreads out the array of movies Robin has chosen.

“Yes! Like I would stop these movies from playing. You got into this job by saying the Star Wars with the teddy bears. You need to at least see the movie once so maybe you can remember the name Ewok so you can impress Dustin.” Lucy says as she holds up the Star Wars movies with an Indiana Jones squeezed in for good measure. “She left us Indie so that you can have a break. I have a feeling you are going to relate a bit to the adventurer knowing the stories Dustin tells Eddie.”

“He talks about me to him?!”

“Yeah, Stevie. You’re his idol. Like the big brother, he never had. Just don’t tell him I let it slip and we can have a bit more of a break than Indie.”

“Deal.” As he says this the popcorn starts popping and Steve gets out the bowl.

————————

“Why do the teddy bears have spears?”

“Because George Lucas and Co wanted something cute and fluffy to sell to the little kids but badass to sell to the older ones. Now watch the movie.” Lucy says as she grabs some popcorn from God knows how many bowls. On each side of the sofa, they have spread out one to two bottles of Yoo-hoo each. Lucy plops her head down on Steve’s shoulder and they attack the clones.

At this point, it is well into the night. The duo has watched the other two Star Wars movies with Steve asking questions along the way and Lucy answering them without spoiling anything. When they get their Indiana Jones, and the Raider of the Lost Ark break Steve asks fewer questions, but it is clear from the two Harrison Ford performances he enjoys the simplicity of a professor turned adventurer.

“Thanks for putting up with this Stevie.” She says softly.

“I’m not putting up with anything. I mean would I choose Star Wars any day of the week? No, but I haven’t been able to spend time with you on one as I have with Robin since Starcourt, and well… I have missed you.”

“Aww Stevie! I didn’t know you missed me and our closing shift shenanigans.” She says as she looks at him slightly laughing. They lock eyes for a few seconds. Lucy then stops laughing as the air begins to get tense. Steve slowly begins to lean in, and Lucy follows.

Right as they are about to close their eyes a sharp set of knocks is heard at the door. Steve and Lucy jump back away from each other and Steve runs for the door. When he is out of eyesight Lucy gives the biggest sigh and curls up on herself covering her face with her hands, her blonde wild hair blocking the rest of her face.

“Stupid…” She says to herself.

“Good evening. We heard reports that Lucy Munson was here.” At this, she gets up and walks to the entryway.

“Yeah. Here I am-“ She sees immediately the flashing lights and the silhouettes of two police officers. “Oh. Sorry. Is there something I can help with?”

“We are going to need you to come with us.”

“Why?”

“We can’t say.”

“Well, I don’t know what you want with her but if she needs an alibi she has been here since the early evening.” At this, the officers go back to their cars and talk to each other. They then quickly come back.

“Ms. Munson your home is a crime scene. I recommend you find somewhere else to stay for a while.” The officer says.

“She’ll be here as long as it is,” Steve says as he gently pulls Lucy back towards him.

“If you hear even a peep from your brother, call the station.”

“Yes officer…” Lucy says softly as Steve gives a nod and shuts the door after waving.

“Fuck… fuck fuck fuck.” Lucy says to herself as she starts to grab her stuff.

“Hey! You can’t just leave. It makes you look guilty and may lead them to your brother.”

“You’re right. I hate that.” Lucy says as she stops what she is doing. “But I can’t just stand here. Eddie is a soft soul.” Steve gives her a look. “Deeeeeep down. He is a little scaredy cat who couldn’t hurt a fly. He needs to be calmed down because he is losing his mind right now.”

“We can worry about this tomorrow. First, we need to sleep. You can take the guest room. I’ll show you where it is.” Steve then helps her grab her stuff and takes it upstairs.

On the bed is a large shirt and pants folded. “I uh keep this place ready in case anyone is in a tight spot. Guess it paid off.” Steve says as he puts her stuff on the floor next to the bed.

“Yeah. Thanks, Stevie.” She says as she gives him a hug.

“Yeah. It’s not a big deal. Let’s get some sleep and find your brother tomorrow.” Lucy gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“Goodnight kiss. For good luck.” Steve gently goes and closes the door before he responds.

Lucy groans in embarrassment as she flops into the bed.

“Now let’s find Eddie.” She sinks into the bed as she closes her eyes. Eventually, she sinks further into the bed until she is past it and in a black plane. She walks along the surface of the black water below her and she looks around. Eventually, she finds Eddie lying down in a canoe curled up and asleep. She runs over to him before placing her hands to cradle his head before entering his mind.

The first thing she hears is Eddie. She feels the sheets on his bed as she springs up.

“Chrissy wakes up!” He says as she convulses with glazed-over eyes. He starts to shake her and snap at her. “I don’t like this! Chrissy wakes up!” At this, she rises into the air and her bones start to snap and contort.

“Eddie,” Lucy says before she grabs him and the scene in front of them changes to a typical evening with Eddie playing his guitar and Lucy in the living room listening as she works on her homework.

“Lucy! Chrissy she-“ Eddie says as he is hyperventilating and crying.

“I know. Cops came by to try and take me in,” she says as she drags him into a hug and sits him down. “Now let’s calm down and listen to your practice.”

“Where are you?! Are you safe?”

“Yes. I am at Steve’s house and can stay there for now. Let’s focus on you. The press hasn’t gotten to the story yet and the police officers haven’t officially started the manhunt… but I have a feeling that are going to do that soon. You can’t let them catch you.”

“Well, I am hiding out at Refer Rick’s place. Please try and bring me food or something. I am getting hungry. I was planning to have Chrissy over for dinner before she left but well-“

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I just saw you didn’t do anything. We can say here if you like to get some rest. I’ll try and bring something by tomorrow. I’m gonna guess some snacks, easy-to-make meals, and yoo-hoos?”

“That sounds great. Thanks. For the future food run and this.” Eddie says as he gestures around to the scene.

“No problem. I’ve been trying to help Max out at night with her dreams, so I have had a bit of practice lately.” Eddie then looks concerned.

“Is that why you have been so tired lately?”

“It has been a bit taxing doing it every night, but I should be fine and so should you. We are technically resting.” She says with a laugh. “Now, which memories should we dive into this night.”

—————————-

Lucy looks like a zombie as she reorganizes the movies recently turned in.

“Are you ok?”

“No….” Lucy moans out as she accidentally drops her tape in her hands causing her to bend down and pick it back up.

“Did you have a sleepless night?”

“Not in that way. Nightmares.” Lucy says as she rubs her eyes.

“You mean you didn’t take the opportunity I gave you?”

“Yes and no. We can talk about this later when I can think.” Lucy says as she shooed off Robin. Lucy continues to clean up around the store. A violent clang can be heard from the front of the store.

“Where is she, Steve?”

“Who?” Steve asks as Lucy moves to the front of the store.

“Her. Lucy, I need your help. Your brother he is being framed-“

“I know.”

“I need your help to find him so we can find out what happened and what sort of being we are dealing with now.”

“Are you saying the Upside Down is open again?”

“So far doesn’t seem like it but our creature may just be for this section of the campaign.”

“Dustin, I know you love my brother, but he is the DND player. Speak Common to me.”

“He is the key to this whole mystery.”

“Hey. You help me get him food and I can help you find him.”

“Deal.”

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Steve asks as he blocks the front of the counter.

“No. My brother is starving. Look. We can either do this with your help or Dustin and I can walk on over to where he is and who knows what may happen to us.”

“Fine. Now how do we even find a guy like that?”

“Easy. You have talked through a scenario like this before and you pre-planned this. I mean we thought it would be me on the run, but it works.” Lucy then jumps to the counter and starts using the customer database. “Just need to get a house number really quick.”

“Hey, this is private customer data.”

“And I am an employee Stevie,” Lucy says with a wink as she types in the name she needs. “Now let’s get my brother.”

“I have some other-“

“Fine. I am going myself. Dustin, you stay back and keep bothering this guy and your friends to help. I think we have another incident.” Lucy says as she checks the time and nods to herself before she goes into the back to change and leave.

As she opens the door she is greeted with a stark white wall. As she turns back the hallway continues to a door with no handles. She feels a weight on her face and feels it realizing there is a muzzle over her mouth. Lining the hallway are similar doors but each has a number. She starts to walk forward. As she does the sound of a clock chimes in the distance as the laughter of children rings out from behind the door at the end of the hallway she is walking down. As she continues down the hall the laughing turns into screams and cracks can be heard. Thumps sound from behind the door as she gets closer. The lights start to flicker. She reaches for her door, her fingertips brushing it before she feels a hand on her shoulder. She turns around quickly and winds up ready to punch.

“Lucy? Are you ok?” Steve asks as he backs up to space himself away from her threat of violence.

Y-yeah… just worried about my brother… I-I need to go.” She says as she wipes her nose and rushes off. Dustin tries to stop her, but Lucy looks at him with a look that makes him hesitant long enough for her to leave.

——-

After a while, Lucy appears from the gas station with a bag full of snacks and microwaveable food. She seems very shaken up as she huffs to herself. She starts her walk to Rick’s house, but she hears a car screech down the road. Eventually, she can hear familiar arguing as it whips by and eventually stops further down the road.

“Finally…” Lucy says to herself as she jogs forward.

“Get in,” Dustin says loudly as she gets closer.

“I call trunk,” Lucy says excitedly through labored breaths as she walks around to the back and pops the trunk.

“Don’t you dare! You’ll mess up-“

“Stevie sweetie you have to chill. I’ll ride-“ she looks at the crowd for a second. “…uhhh hump.” Dustin gets out and Lucy squeezes in before Steve drives off.

“So… Lucy…” Dustin says as he seems concerned. “How are you doing?”

“As good as can be considering my brother is being framed for murder.” She laughs. “But other than that, I am peachy.”

“Welp, I tried.”

“Hey! She is going through a lot here. She is the sister of a killer going through a mental break!” Robin pipes in from the front.

“He is framed.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.” As Lucy says this she looks down at her hands and notices them shaking. She starts fiddling her fingers and clasping her hands. As she does this Dustin pats her on the shoulder.

“Eddie does that when he is nervous about something. You’re going to be ok. Eddie is going to be ok.”

“I know. Eddie and I did discuss this whole plan a while ago and he seems to be following it perfectly.”

“Why do you have a plan for this?!” Dustin looks at her like she has grown an extra leg.

“We are the children of a criminal. Of course, we need an escape plan.” Lucy looks at Dustin with a hurt expression.

“Munson’s…” Steve chimes in from the front causing Lucy to lean forward into Robin and Steve’s space.

“You got something to say, Stevie?” She says as she leans in close to whisper. “You didn’t seem too bothered by it yesterday.” She then pats the side of the seat as Steve freezes unable to respond. “Aww come on. That wasn’t even the worst thing I could say.” She says with a laugh as she leans back into her seat having Max and Dustin look at her bewildered.

“So, what did you grab for your brother?” Max asks trying to brush past everything.

“All the essentials. Some water, some chocolate milk, some snacks, some meals… enough to last a few days before he has to start begging.” She says as she shows the boys.

“This is an amazing haul of food.”

“Yep. Figured if it is good enough for a child to enjoy it should be able to satisfy Eddie.” She says with a laugh as she closes the bag.

———————-

They pull into Rick's driveway at night. Lucy reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out a flashlight as she climbs over Max.

“Hey!”

“Sorry! Got places to be!” She clicks on the flashlight and runs off towards the house. She tries the door and realizes it is locked. She then remembers the night before with Eddie being in a canoe. “Right. Wrong building.” She says to herself as she clicks off her flashlight and runs over to the boathouse. She tries the door there and finds it locked. She starts trying to jimmy it.

“Lucy? Where did you go?” Steve calls out into the night. Lucy sighs as she holds her hand in front of the door. She hears a click from the door and pretends to have physically done something to the door instead of what she did when Steve appears again next to her.

“Going with the plan Stevie.” She says with a sing-song voice. She then opens the door. “Benefits of being a child of a criminal.” She gestures to the open door for them to go inside.

She begins to walk her way in when suddenly she enters the doorway to the white hallway again.

In the real world, her friends continue searching for her brother, unaware of what is happening due to the darkness. Steve begins stabbing around with an oar until Eddie lunges at him with a broken beer bottle. Everyone starts panicking.

“Lucy a little help,” Dustin says as he turns around to her to find her still with her eyes glazed over and her nose bleeding as she looks on.

“No! Not you too!” Eddie rushes over and starts trying to wake her up. “Please don’t do this to me. Not now.”

Lucy hears none of this as she suddenly snaps back to the real world, her blue eyes returning to normal. “What the fuck?” She looks around confused and scared as she tries to calm her breathing. “Where?” Before she can continue Eddie continues to shake her. “Stop it! I am fine for now!” She grabs her brother’s shoulders to stop him. That is when she notices he is almost crying.

“Eddie. I’m not going to be sacrificed. I’m more final girl material anyway.” She adds the joke at the end, but he isn’t laughing. At this, she drops her fake smile and tightly grips his right shoulder as she talks to him in his head.

“What did I tell you on that day? I’m not leaving you alone as long as you will let me hang around.” She then smiles on the outside as she severed the connection. “Now can we all sit down and figure out what the hell is going on?” She says as she guides her brother to sit down.

Others try to touch him, but he backs off still very jittery. Lucy is in a similar state, but she is holding herself together a bit more. Most people are questioning Eddie, but Steve comes over to check on her.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was happening?”

“I don’t know. I guess it made it real.” Lucy says with a hollow laugh.

“How long have they been happening?” There is a sadness and fear in his eyes.

“I don’t know. I’ve been dealing with what I saw in that place as a nightmare. The whole thing happening when I am awake thing is new though. Like maybe a few days? Yeah, that sounds right. It was the reason you almost took one to the face earlier today.” She smiles but it looks uneasy. “Sorry about that by the way.”

“It’s ok. You’re cursed right now according to your brother and the kids.” Steve seems to think about something for a second before he nods to himself. “I was wondering if you could tell me what exactly is going on when you are in there?” At this, Lucy seems to sink back into the past. Like she is physically there but mentally somewhere else.

“A time and place I am never going back to. The only people who know about it… they aren’t around anymore besides Eddie.” She realizes something. “Wait… that’s not right…” she then winces as it feels like a spike drove into her skull. She sees a flash of three people. Angry blue eyes, scared brown eyes, and dead grayish eyes. “Ugh, that’s not right either. I think I need sleep. That will help with the whole gaps in memory thing?”

“Or it will bring you closer to whatever is happening,” Steve says looking at her with worry.

“Don’t worry my valiant knight. I’m confident that you’ll find a way to save me in time. You have a surprisingly good record of getting to places just in time with solutions and you better not change that now otherwise I am haunting your ass.” Steve smiles unsure as he offers his hand to help her up which she takes.

Lucy looks over to Max and sees a sad sense of understanding. Lucy’s eyes widen as she realizes what it means. She is not the only one in danger.

[thevibraniumveterans]

《The Mandalorian》『SEASON 3 : Episode 8 - Chapter 24』-「THE RETURN」

SPOILERS!

Thoughts on rewatch……

This episode picks up where last episode leaves off. Did not expect the jetpack to last that long for Axe; given that the fleet was just outside atmosphere.

Bo Katan has a plan. Normally, her plans (just like anyone else’s plans) don’t quite go as intended. But she’s confident, and sends Axe up to the ship.

Ever the leader, she charges in but brings up the rear, setting a detonator charge to buy her some time.

Din is bound between two troopers, and we get a first-person POV from inside his helmet. I’d assumed one’s line of sight from inside the helmet wasn’t much, but I’m wrong.

Din asks Grogu, “You with me?” The music soars from the drums (important later), straight into the theme music.

Din contacts Bo-Katan and lets her know he and Grogu are okay for the time being, and tells her what he’s doing. She updates him on her plan, and tells him to “stay safe”. No surprise, the camera immediately cuts to the Captain, and the crew leaves their current predicament.

Next scene is the TIE/IN Interceptors. They hang upside down like bats, and they drop and take off like them too. It ups the scary factor, as they can launch with little notice. We also see bombers screaming skyward to the flagship. The shot of numerous TIE fighters shooting out of a hole in Mandalore’s surface is just… something else to see.

Gideon puts on his helmet, and when he says “I’ll take care of them myself”, he sounds a lot like Darth Vader.

The shots of R5, Din, and Grogu sneaking around the base feels A LOT like the sequence in A New Hope where R2D2, Kenobi, Han, Luke, and Chewbacca are sneaking around the Death Star. It’s also interesting how Din speaking to Grogu is sort of a meta-narration, so we learn the details the same time Grogu is hearing it.

Axe notifies command, and sends all his troops down to the planet. He orders them to leave the capital ship. At this point I’m thinking, “Axe is crazy! That’s incredibly self-sacrificing!” But then I remember loyalty is one of the best traits any Mandalorian has, so it’s no surprise he’s willing to do what it takes to help defeat Gideon and his army. Axe’s troops head down to the waiting Gauntlets, and they dive toward the surface. The Gauntlets are accompanied by several smaller fighter ships. I really love the shot where the Gauntlets descend to the planet, the camera lingers above the clouds, and not a few seconds later, the TIE Interceptors shoot out from beneath the clouds and up to the capital ship. The Mandos going down, and the Imperials going up, it is a foreshadow for a later scene, but I’ll explain that later. How ships of both parties never hit each other is beyond me, but smart of the Mandos to use the cloud as cover.

Axe trying his damndest to stay put in the pilot’s seat is a feat in and of itself. He’s fighting the fight/flight instinct. I’ve never seen anything like it.

The scene where Din instructs R5 to keep opening the laser shield doors one at a time is pretty intense, it’s like each door he passes, the level of difficulty goes up. The first pair of guards Din fights, he grabs a knife and fights with it momentarily and throws it at one guard, and he tries to get it back, and he fails. He doesn’t let that stop him. He gets another knife from the first downed guard and tells R5 to open shield #2. The weapons get bigger, and the guards get tougher. He fights messy, but acquires an electro-staff and an actual shield. He instructs R5 to open shield #3. He loses the knife, acquires a blaster. R5 gets intercepted, but does not back down, and opens shield #4. Din loses a shield, but retains the blaster; he shoots the last few guards a few times for good measure. Din now has two blasters. He went from being weaponless to being fully-armed. After all, weapons are part of his religion.

Din and Grogu pass clones of Gideon. This might be a bit of a canonical throwback, but the fact that Gideon has been able to clone himself kind of points to why the Empire, years ago, was looking for Omega from the Bad Batch. She was one of the special ones. Even so, last episode, Gideon says that cloning was not his obsession; clearly that was a lie, but also a misdirect, since he did say about his beskar armor, “the most impressive improvement is that it has me in it.” That, was not a lie. It was a foreshadow. Din shuts down the tanks, which explode, and he and Grogu leave.

Even though Bo and her troops arrive at their very temporary shelter (as they leave literally right after this), it’s not simply just worldbuilding. The Captain explains that though he and his crew have had to cultivate the plants, it was a giant metaphor for just how stubborn Mandalore and its people are. The Empire bombed the planet until it looked like there was nothing left, and yet, and YET people, plants, and animals clung to life. Life on Mandalore does NOT quit. The Captain says, “Life persists.” Bo admits, “I’ve only ever seen gardens in the domed cities.” To which the captain replies, “All they need is room to grow.” Fitting metaphor for the Mandalorians themselves.

Bo’s troops go up, Axe’s troops go down, and they reunite as a single deadly fighting force. Bo takes out the Darksaber - as she believed that it is only with the blade she can reunite her people. This is not really true, and I’ll explain why later. The Mandalorian troops head back down into the planet, and are met with ascending Imperials. Remember the foreshadow earlier when the Gauntlets went down then the TIEs went up? That was a foreshadow for this scene! And what an aerial battle it is. I have never in my life watched a jetpack battle between people in Mandalorian armor. It’s a really awesome scene. The reason why Bo can actually wield the Darksaber is because her goals and feelings regarding her people and her planet are very, very clear - she may not want to rule Mandalore, but she sure as hell wants her home planet and her people back. We hear the frantic but controlled alto instruments, but also the bass line of the Mandalorian theme song playing as the clash begins.

Gideon thought he could “[isolate] the potential to wield the Force” (that’s what he wanted from Grogu a season or two back), but the Force is not something you “get”, it’s something you have. You either have it or you don’t. If you don’t have it you can’t wield it. Gideon’s movements are calculated, controlled rage. His movements sound like there is a robot behind the suit rather than a human, making him seem more menacing. He lets Din face the Praetorians alone. Much like their real world counterparts, Praetorians are elite guards. When Grogu becomes a target, the Guards rush after him. Din tries to run after Grogu, but gets repeatedly downed by Gideon. We see an unnamed Mandolorian warrior make use of her knee blasters. The battle rages on three fronts: The Praetorians are attacking Grogu, Gideon fights Din, and the Mandalorians exchange blaster fire with the Imperials. Bo Katan spears one through the midsection with the Darksaber - brutal, but necessary. She comes in with a flying kick, aided by her jetpack, and downs Gideon. She tells Din to get Grogu. Bo fighting with a saber is definitely NOT the first time we see a non-Force sensitive person wield a saber (see: Han in ESB (briefly), and Sabine Wren in Rebels). Also love how Grogu is just casually using the Force to aid Din, and Din doesn’t even know it (maybe he does).

Meanwhile, the capitol ship is on a downward trajectory that cannot be corrected: this is intentional; Axe meant for this to happen. He will crash the ship into the base, the only way to hurt Gideon where it matters most. Gideon knocks her down, but Bo is furious, gets back up, and lunges. Gideon destroys the Darksaber, removing the one thing Bo thought she could use to reunite her people. Suddenly, she is alone again; in the sense that she theoretically loses authority. Gideon states, “You’ve lost everything.” For context, Obi-Wan had told Anakin in AOTC that a saber is a very precious possession, and extremely meaningful to one’s life. To lose it is tantamount to losing one’s life and meaning. So, to Bo, it’s like she lost everything, all over again. Gideon taunts her, saying “Mandalorians are weak once they lose their trinkets.” This is not true. Last episode, Din told her he’s not loyal to some weapon. The Darksaber means NOTHING to him, and now Bo realizes this. She’s had enough of the power grabs and divisions that the Darksaber has caused between Mandalorians, and she fires back: “Mandalorians are stronger together.” Which is her journey so far. She realizes this only now because if not for what had happened to her, she would not have known this otherwise. The Darksaber is but a mythical weapon, ultimately meaning nothing. Bo has stated last episode, “Mandalore has always been too powerful for any enemy to defeat. It is always our own division that destroys us.” Meaning, the Darksaber is nothing but a curse; without it, the Mandalorians come together NOT BECAUSE OF A BLADE, but to retake their damn homeworld once and for all. Bo did not have to worry about some blade. To nobody’s surprise, the moment she utters this, Din comes marching in with Grogu, blasters firing.

The ship is still going down; at this point I’m thinking, “Axe is on a suicide mission!” But then, right after I finish the thought, he shoots out a window and escapes, free to fight another day. His and Bo’s troops evacuate the base. The ship crashes into the base; Din, Gideon, and Bo face off. Din gets hit on the wrist, and Bo comes to his rescue, shielding him. The place explodes around them, Grogu uses the Force to disadvantage Gideon; Din rushes to protect Grogu, and Bo rushes to protect them both. The flames engulf everyone. It looks like they might not survive this, BUT BUT BUT! Grogu saves the day! He is using the Force to create a bubble to shield Din and Bo. This scene feels so familiar because it feels like a heroic inversion of that one scene in S4E8 of Rebels, “Jedi Night”, where Kanan uses the Force to hold back an explosion to save the Ghost crew but sacrifice himself; here Grogu saves both Bo AND Din from the flames. Bo is astonished; she looks from around her, to Din, and finally down at Grogu, like she can’t believe she’s alive. The flames around them dissipate, and both Mandalorians stand up, and we cut to black. It’s not over.

Remember the drums I mentioned earlier? The Mandos are at the Mines of Mandalore, where Ragnar finally gets to be properly baptized, as his last attempt didn’t go so well. Din practically adopts Grogu right there and then, and the Armorer approves. Someone mentioned once that it took so long for Din to call Grogu his son, because he started off a mission but now Din has grown close enough to basically be a dad. It was about time that happened.

So the thing with names- “Din Grogu”, right? I’m thinking, what if, if “Grogu” is a first name, and “Din” is something like a last name, only put before his first name “Djarin”? Therefore “Din Grogu” would make sense on a lastname-firstname basis. It’s not the same with Bo-Katan, or Axe Woves, or even Sabine Wren, for that matter. If Din and Grogu are a Clan of Two, then clearly it should be called Clan Din. It only makes sense that way, that in Clan Din there is Djarin and Grogu. This is the way names work, I think?

The Armorer states, “You must leave Mandalore and take your apprentice on his journeys, just as your teacher did for you.” And why, you might ask? This is the fulfillment of the Hero’s Journey: the Hero returns to whence he came, after a call to adventure, where he meets supernatural aid and comes across guardians, mentors, and friends; he reaches a revelation, a rebirth, after which he transforms, atones, with the gift of the “Goddess”, and returns. Din had started his journey on the call to adventure, and meets Grogu, his supernatural aid. Greef Karga is his mentor and friend. Bo is also his friend and ally. Din’s revelation is sort of him removing his helmet; his transformation, he changes because of how he feels toward Grogu. However, he must atone for that, so he requests that Bo guide him to the Mines so he can baptize himself in the Living Waters to atone. Then he returns to Mandalore to help fight Gideon, and subsequently also returns to his starting point, as a gunman and bounty hunter for hire.

Bo, the Armorer, and the rest of the Mandalorians meet at the Great Forge, finally able to reclaim Mandalore after so many years. The Armorer hands Bo-Katan Kryze a torch, and she lights the Forge. It roars to life, symbolic of the Mandalorians being one once more. The Mandalorians have finally come home, UNITED, and it wasn’t even a blade that reunited them.

Din returns to the rebel base. Some time passes, and he returns to Nevarro. Greef Karga gifts him a home for between assignments, and Din gifts Karga his IG-11 droid back, but improved. For what is perhaps one of the few moments in his life, Din has peace. He sits outside his new home, his N1 parked just outside, and watches Grogu practice his abilities.

===

FINISHING THOUGHTS:

1. I loved this episode, largely in part due to the aerial fights and carefully planned shots. The characters I theorized last week could show up, didn’t, and that’s okay. They didn’t, because they didn’t need to.

2. I also loved the foreshadowing, the visual references, the metaphors. I also loved how the Darksaber is no more. Don’t get me wrong, it is an AWESOME weapon, but it has plagued the Mandalorians for far too long, and has been one of the things that divided them. Struggles for power and all that, all for a blade. It took ages of infighting, division, it took Din telling Bo that the blade didn’t matter to him; it took Gideon finally destroying the very thing that divided the people of Mandalore, for Bo-Katan Kryze to finally, FINALLY, realize that Mandalorians are stronger together. It’s not that she didn’t know, it was that she chased after the blade like her people before her did; now that she doesn’t even have it, she doesn’t even need it! And she is still able to unite her people! WITHOUT THE BLADE!

3. Something about the Great Forge being “the heart of our civilization” (per Axe, last episode), and the Mandalorian creed vows about the words being forged into their hearts, I’m not quite sure how to put into words this association but there’s certainly something there.

4. More thoughts on the Hero’s Journey and episode titles of The Mandalorian:

- S1E3Ch3 : The Sin (“Temptation”/“Threshold”)

- S1E7Ch7 : The Reckoning

- S1E8Ch8 : Redemption

- S2E3Ch11 : The Heiress (“Goddess”)

- S2E6Ch14 : The Tragedy

- S2E8Ch16 : The Rescue

- S3E1Ch17 : The Apostate (“Transformation”)

- S3E3Ch19 : The Convert (“Atonement”)

- S3E8Ch24 : The Return

5. Overall, excellent episode, very much looking forward to Season 4. Which might take place either concurrently to, or after the events of, the Ahsoka series. I guess we’ll find out eventually.

[ace-oreos]

Hey I got three prompt idea for your alpha fic (that I just finished reading, and I loved it): 1) Alpha, Fordo (and the rest of the ARCs of hypori, if you want, because a squad of ten arc have potentiel) and Satine meet while Kenobi are left in the middle of this. 2) Alpha and Fordo meet Ahsoka, Ahsoka fangirl, because Alpha ARC trooper, Fordo is puzzled and Alpha discover there is three of them now. 3) the Alpha ARC meet the newly promoted ARC, your choice if this goes good or bad

Ooh all of these were so fun, anon! Although I do have to admit I think the first one was my favorite to write - Alpha has no time for Kenobi's drama, but he's not above making Obi-Wan's life difficult. XD

And to no one's surprise, the ARC in the third little snippet is an OC! I haven't actually written much with him, but he's been taking up some space in my brain for a while now.

Taglist: @delta-the-mando @merspots @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @dudewhynotthis @a-lil-perspective @trashynishiki (because I know Obi-Wan amuses you to no end)

Alpha has been General Kenobi’s second long enough to know far more about the man’s various romantic pursuits than he ever wanted - there’s no way to avoid it, given the rate at which rumors whirl through the ranks and grow more ludicrous every day.

As for the second parties in question - Kenobi always becomes conveniently deaf at any mention, so Alpha has limited information for comparison - he is convinced that the Mandalorian duchess is the worst.

He very deliberately avoids catching Fordo’s eye; if his brother cracks, then it’s over for both of them. The clipped exhale picked up on his helmet audio confirms his suspicions.

Kenobi casts Alpha a look of warning. Alpha spreads his hands to indicate that he will not be acceptable for the aftermath when Fordo finally snaps and turns his attention to the duchess.

Her face is set with the same polite disinterest he’s seen on Coruscant politicians, although this time it’s accompanied by a distinct sense of disapproval. Alpha returns the look with interest. He doesn’t like her, and seeing as Kenobi is too busy trying to salvage his dignity, someone has to let her know.

Unfortunately, the Force tips him off, or maybe the general knows him too well by now; whatever the reason, Kenobi clears his throat before Alpha can think of a fitting comment for the situation.

Alpha plays innocent. Kenobi may know him, but Fordo is a wild card, and his brother certainly has a mouth -

“So,” Fordo says, and Alpha can hear the wicked grin in his voice, “I take it you and the general know each other?”

Kenobi’s face is a study in abject horror, the duchess’ somewhere between outrage and mortification, and Fordo looks duly pleased with himself. Alpha, for his part, is intensely grateful for his helmet. He certainly couldn’t care less about Kenobi’s private life, but he has a feeling that he and Fordo both will be getting an earful before the negotiations conclude.

_________________

Skywalker’s Padawan - General Skywalker - is a scrap of enthusiasm and curiosity wrapped up in an undeniably impulsive package.

She’s learned her lessons a little too well, Alpha decides, catching the look on her face. It’s somewhere between wary and inquisitive as she considers the ARCs with a thoughtful tilt of her head.

Suddenly she brightens. “You served with Master Skywalker.”

“It’s been a while,” Alpha says reluctantly. He’s acutely aware of how young she is; even the cadets on Kamino don’t give off the same sense of naivety. He’d rather not admit it, but he’s not at all sure how to handle her.

Fordo slings a companionable arm over his shoulder. “And I’m sure the general has taken your lessons to heart.”

Alpha glares - or he would, if Tano weren’t watching raptly.

“He’s told me about you,” the commander says, and Alpha knows in no uncertain terms that the grin spreading across Fordo’s face means trouble for him in the very near future.

Right on cue, his brother asks innocently, “Has he?”

Alpha jams his heel into his Fordo’s foot at the same time Tano starts rattling off every campaign and minor skirmish Alpha and Skywalker have ever been involved with. It’s almost impressive, her recall and her ability to list every planet and star system without pausing for breath in between. As it is, Alpha finds the attention uncomfortable.

When Tano’s recitation finally comes to a close, Alpha seizes the opportunity to put in, “Don’t forget Captain Fordo’s squad, ma’am.”

The dismay is written plainly across Fordo’s face as he tries to minimize the damage, saying, “It’s really not that exciting - ”

“Shabuir,” he hisses five minutes later, when Tano is hurling questions at both of them left and right. Alpha merely smirks in response.

They manage to escape within the hour, citing a briefing for a mission command is unaware they’ve assigned.

“Well,” Fordo says at last, “she’s Skywalker’s, alright.”

Alpha can’t help but make a face at that. Even Skywalker knew when to keep his mouth shut. Tano, on the other hand, has yet to absorb that particular lesson.

“Captain!”

The voice carries clearly through the hallway, and Alpha comes to a grudging halt. Tano catches up to them, twin lightsabers bouncing on her belt as she tries to maintain some measure of dignity.

“What can I do for you, Commander?” Alpha asks, wondering if she can sense his exasperation.

“I think my Master is supposed to accompany you on this next mission,” the commander explains. She smiles up at him with all the confidence in the world. “It only makes sense that I go too, don’t you think?”

“Well - ”

“D’you know, Master Kenobi was younger than I am now when he went on his first mission.”

“He might’ve mentioned it - ”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to have you on this one,” Tano continues cheerfully.

“I, uh, have a new assignment…”

“Oh, don’t worry, Alpha,” the commander says, patting his arm amiably. “Master Kenobi can pull some strings.”

Alpha, already intimately familiar with Kenobi’s methods, has to work to keep his dismay from showing on his face.

_________________

Alpha wakes abruptly after a particularly tiring training session to find Fordo waving a datapad perilously close to his face.

“What are you doing?” he demands, awake enough to be irritated.

“New ARC recruit,” Fordo announces, and the datapad whizzes by Alpha’s nose to land on his stomach.

Alpha smacks Fordo for good measure and picks up the datapad. As reluctant as he is to indulge his brother’s antics, he’s intrigued by the news. ARC recruits are few and far between these days.

It’s one of Skywalker’s di’kute, cross-trained from the infantry ranks.

“And you’re in luck,” Fordo continues, helping himself to the spot on the bed by Alpha’s feet. “He’s on planet now. You can give him the ARC speech.”

“ARC speech?”

“You know, do honor to your brothers and Jango, et cetera. The usual osik.”

“Shove off,” Alpha says. “I don’t give a - ”

“Whatever you say, ner vod.”

“I’m not - don’t look at me like that!”

“Like what?” Fordo asks innocently.

“You little - ”

Just as Alpha readies himself to throw something at Fordo - or tackle him head-on - the door slides open, followed by an uncertain, “Sir?”

Alpha straightens in time to see a trooper in full armor tuck his blue-striped helmet under one arm. His face is studiously blank, but there’s a smile playing on his lips.

“Four-one-oh-eight, sir,” the trooper says unprompted, apparently unbothered by the awkward silence. “I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

“Not at all,” Alpha says, and takes care to step on Fordo’s foot as he approaches the trooper. He ignores the ensuing yelp and instead opts for, “What can I do for you?”

“The general referred me to you. Seemed to think I could pick up a few pointers.”

“That would be Skywalker?”

“Got it in one, sir.” Now the trooper gives a wry grin. “He recommended me for ARC training.”

“Got a name, kid?” Fordo asks, playing the steady ori’vod he absolutely is not.

“Ike, sir.”

“Well, Ike,” Fordo says, “glad to have you.”

“Don’t let Skywalker get in your head too much, yeah?” Alpha puts in.

Ike’s grin widens. “Yeah, I’ve heard stories.”

“If you’ve made it this far, you’ve already got more self-preservation than the general,” Alpha reassures him, offering a sardonic smile of his own.

“I’d like to think so, sir,” the trooper answers, almost sincere if not for the look of mischief in his eyes.

Yeah, Alpha likes this kid. If he’s careful, he may even make it past his first deployment.

Alpha claps him on the shoulder. “Welcome aboard, ner vod.”

[gra-sonas]

What do you think would have happened if pll and rnm would have cross over ( the characters) ?

I can’t speak for the other PLL characters (I’ve never actually watched the show apart from most of Tyler’s/Haleb’s scenes), but this is something I sent in as a question for Tyler for the Pretty Little Wine Moms podcast!

In Rosewood/#PLL, Caleb had to deal with some pretty bad people, in #Ravenswood he had to deal with the supernatural. How would he handle traveling to #RoswellNM and finding out 👽s are real? And how would Caleb and Alex get along?

I really hope that they’re going to ask him the question (or one like it) and we’ll get an answer from Tyler himself. 🤞

As for myself, I think Caleb coming to Roswell would be super fun. Thanks to spending time in Ravenswood, he’s experienced in handling paranormal/supernatural events. I think he wouldn’t be too surprised to find out that aliens exist. 

~*~

Caleb and Alex meet at some IT/hacker conference, both stopping in their tracks when they realize how much they look alike. Caleb manages to play it cool, but Alex is freaking out internally. What kind of fucked up alien conspiracy is this, he thinks.

It takes Caleb quite a bit convincing that he’s in fact a real person, that he’s not some weird clone, and that he wasn’t set up to meet Alex. Once Alex has performed a solid background check, he relaxes a bit. They go out for a drink that night (being hit up several times bc people would love to “fuck with the pretty twins”) and they get along splendidly. So splendidly in fact, that at the end of the conference, Alex invites Caleb to come and visit him in Roswell. 

When Caleb and Hanna (and their son Aidan) arrive in Roswell, they fit in with the pod squad crowd right away (Isobel and Hanna become best friends on the spot, and Aidan is instantly smitten with Rosa, who’s at first slightly irritated, but enjoys being “the favorite aunt” very quickly). 

Only Michael’s a bit weirded out at first. Caleb really looks so much like Alex, but after a while, he relaxes. Caleb is very much his own person, and while he’s pretty damn gorgeous, he’s no match for Alex’s good looks (in Michael’s humble opinion). He’s also ridiculously in love with his wife and kid, and Michael decides to just roll with it.

Shortly before the Rivers/Marin family is about the travel home, Caleb pulls Michael aside.

“Don’t you think it’s about time you propose to Alex?”

Michael is startled. He’s been getting along with Caleb quite well, but they haven’t talked all that much, and for sure not about something personal like his relationship with Alex.

“No offense, but I don’t think that’s any of your business, Caleb.”

“I know, Michael, and I apologize for being so blunt, but we’re leaving soon and we didn’t really have a chance to talk.”

Michael nods. “Apology accepted. Still none of your business.”

“You know, when Alex and I went out for a drink that night at the conference, we got hit on several times because people thought we were twins. You know what Alex said every time?”

“He said no, obviously, but I know that.”

“Michael, he didn’t just say no, he said ‘I’m engaged’ or ‘I have a fiancé’ every time, while I showed people my wedding ring.”

Michael is stunned and is voice a mere croak when he speaks again.

“Engaged?”

“Michael, he talked about you almost nonstop that night. How much he loves you, how happy you make him, and how he hopes that things will calm down enough one day for you two to have your happily ever after. But you know how things are, they never really calm down. So why not just ask him now and marry him? You two are amazing together.”

Caleb smiles at Michael and squeezes his hand. Michael swallows around a huge lump in his throat.

“Oh, okay, that’s interesting. I mean, that’s good to know. Not that I didn’t know. That he loves me, I mean. I just never dared to hope that marriage would be something he’s interested in.”

“Believe me, it’s something he’s definitely interested in. Talk to him. He’s told me a bit about your story, and how hard it’s been for you to start communicating. But take it from someone who almost fucked up the happily ever after with the love of their life: talk to him, and marry him. You won’t regret it. Marrying Hanna’s been the best decision I’ve ever made.”

Michael pulls Caleb in for a quick hug.

“Thanks, man, I really appreciate your advice. Guess it’s time to unearth the box with the ring from the bottom drawer at the Airstream.”

“You have a ring for him and haven’t proposed yet?”

Michael blushes and looks sheepish all of a sudden.

“I bought this ring more than a decade ago. There never seemed to be the right moment to ask him.”

Caleb’s eyes, so similar to Alex’s, are soft and Michael’s sure he spots a tear in one corner.

“Oh Michael, please go get that ring, and then get your man. I expect an invitation to the wedding!”

“I can’t promise you that, if he says yes, I’ll insist we get married right away, but you’ll be invited to our one year anniversary party I’m sure Isobel will insist on hosting next year.”

Caleb laughs.

“I really like the way you think, Michael. I wish you and Alex all the best and all the happiness.”

Michael winks at Caleb and walks back over to Alex who looks at him, one eyebrow raised in question.

“What was that about?”

“Oh, nothing, he just gave me some interesting advice. What do you think, should we bid our goodbyes, get takeout from the Crashdown and make a trip out into the desert for some stargazing?”

Alex’s smile softens and he leans forward to kiss Michael.

“I’d love that.”

An inexplicable calm washes over Michael in that moment. He’s no longer afraid to propose to Alex because he knows that Alex will say yes.

They say their goodbyes, drive by the Crashdown where Arturo hands them a large picnic basked (Alex winks at Michael when he’s about to ask “I messaged Arturo while you were busy saying goodbye to Aidan.”), and they’re on their way. They stop at the junkyard, where Michael retrieves the well worn dark green velvet box from the bottom drawer at the Airstream, and drive out into the desert.

It’s been a beautiful day, and it’ll be at least another hour before the sun will go down. Michael takes the two folding chairs from the back of the truck (Alex laughed when Michael had shown him the chairs but Michael’d been unfazed “We’re not getting any younger, Alex, they don’t take up much space and we’ll be so much more comfortable.” He’s been right, of course.), unfolds them and places them side by side, facing the sun. Then he puts the picnic basket in front of them and gestures at Alex to sit down.

Once Alex sits, Michael pulls out the velvet box from his jacket pocket and drops down on one knee in front of Alex. Alex’s eyes grow wide and there are tears glistening. 

“Alex Manes, will you do me the honor of going to the court house first thing tomorrow morning and getting married to me?”

Alex laughs (and cries a little at the same time), bends forward and throws his arms around Michael’s neck. He kisses Michael’s face over and over until their lips finally meet. “Yes, a million times yes,” Alex whispers into Michael’s mouth, and Michael feels like he’s about to burst into a million pieces, he’s so happy.

They kiss for a while, reveling in the knowledge that they’re about to take another important step together. When Alex finally pulls back, he looks so happy, Michael can barely believe that he’s the reason for it.

“Please, show me the ring, Michael.”

Michael hands Alex the box and Alex runs his fingers over it. The box looks like it’s been through a lot. Like Michael’s been holding it quite often. Alex swallows.

“Michael, for how long have you had this?”

Michael squeezes Alex’s hand.

“I bought it the day you left for basic training, right after my release from jail. You remember, Kyle’s hub caps?”

“Oh, I remember. I was furious with you because of that for way too long. But Michael, you bought me a ring. On that day. Even though I left. I had no idea.”

Michael can barely stand seeing more tears form in Alex’s eyes. He takes the box from Alex, opens it, and takes the ring out. It’s a simple silver band that reflects the sun beautifully. Alex is mesmerized. Michael lifts the ring and show’s Alex the engraving on the inside.

A + M ♡ forever

it reads. Alex swallows when he thinks back to the broken boy Michael was a decade ago. And yet he bought this ring and got it engraved with what amounts to a love confession and a vow in equal measure.

“Michael, this is the most beautiful, precious gift you could’ve made me. It took us so long to get here, but we made it. Through a thousand ups and downs, through trauma and heartbreak. And yet here we are. A bit older, a bit wiser, and even more in love than we were a decade ago. I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow and call you my husband for the rest of my life. I love you.”

Michael slips the ring on Alex’s finger and kisses it. It fits and looks endlessly perfect on Alex’s beautiful hand. They are both crying now, kissing and laughing and hugging. It takes them a while to calm down. 

They spend the evening out in the desert, they spend the night in their bed in their house, and the next morning they head over to the courthouse and get married. 

When Alex puts one of his old silver rings on Michael’s finger (no time to buy a new one before the ceremony), it looks like it was made for Michael’s hand. They decide that they won’t buy other rings, the ones they have being a perfect echo of their past, and a beautiful promise for their future.

***

Caleb’s phone beeps to notify him of a new message at 11:07am the day after they left Roswell. Hanna’s driving, so he pulls out his phone and checks his messages. It’s from Michael. A photo of two hands clasped together, silver rings reflecting the sunlight. The message is short.

Best decision I’ve ever made! Thanks again, and see you next year!

[therappundit]

Best of the 1st Half: 2020′s Best Rap Projects (*so far*)...

“I’ve had, the halftime of my life...!”

*record scratch*

2020, WHAT THE F**K. 😳

Ohhh what a first half it has been. If 2020 ended today, it would still be one of the most historic years in a century...and NOT in a pleasant way. Years from now 2020 will be studied for the long-term damage caused by the COVID-19 pandemic, the potential breaking point (hopefully??) of this country’s ignorance to systematic racism and the need for a complete overhaul of our police departments, and of course, whatever the hell comes from the November Presidential election....and, not to mention whatever additional ‘tbd’ chaos rings in the second half of ‘20 that we haven’t even heard about yet!? These are trying times, folks.

My whole life, I have tried to use humor and entertainment to help me with processing high levels of stress and anxiety. This year, that process has felt more daunting than usual. I am writing less and less, and often find Twitter to be too dark of a place for me to navigate. It’s anything but a fulfilling “escape”. Still, I am constantly inspired by all of the new music that fills my headspace during life’s precious little moments, and it really keeps me grounded in the day to day. 

At the end of 2019, I wrote the below in one of my posts. It took me back to a special feeling that I had, at a moment when the future seemed more like an opportunity, rather than a worrisome question mark. I’m going to work towards finding that place again, and I wanted to re-share this because it speaks to how the love of any art can be a healthy reminder of what we have to be thankful for in our daily lives:

“Regardless of how you feel about this list, I hope that you visit (or re-visit) any one of these pieces of strong work and find the same level of enjoyment that I did. I loved so much rap music this year and I could not be more excited about what the future holds. On a personal note, in 2019 I found myself even more in love with my wife, feeling luckier than I have in a long time, more satisfied with my hobbies and passions, and above all else, more in awe of my child (and anyone that ever raised a child) than ever before. I became a father for the first time in 2019, so as my baby daughter continues to fill my heart, I am beginning to wonder what she will think of her father’s love for this art form that has brought him so much joy over the years…I suppose time will tell.”

This list is long, because I think the talent that went into these projects is worth your time (and I put a lot of thought into creating this list as well...I do not work in the industry or know anyone that does, and I do not have any real platform - I just do this because I love the music).

If you are an artist on this list, I want to thank you, because you helped me stay positive and focused on a brighter future that I hope will soon come to us all...because everyone has been through something this year, and we deserve better.  So salute to you and many, many others. 🙏🙏🙏

- THE Rap Pundit

The “Rules” for my list of the Best Projects of Q1-Q2 2020:

- the album/mixtape/EP/project/whatever you want to call it had to be released this year, by June 26, 2020

- the project must have at least 6 songs 

- these rankings are a combination of my own personal preference, my take on overall quality of the project (whether it speaks deeply to my sensibilities or not), and how the final product compares to other work from the artists’ peers that occupy the same lane/‘sub-genre’ of rap music

So here we go 👀...

1. The Price of Tea in China by Boldy James and The Alchemist

Sometimes the greatest albums are not the most ambitious or flashy, they are remembered based off the strength of artistic chemistry and execution. Basketball fans know the beauty of a perfectly timed chest pass to a teammate streaking towards the basket can be more impressive than a behind the back pass that’s simply done for the sake of showing everyone that you can do a fancy pass. Staying with that theme, The Price of Tea in China is The Alchemist doing his best John Stockton impression, serving to Boldy James’ Karl Malone, and by album’s end you realize that Boldy scored a quiet 40 points while making this rap shit look like an easy lay-up.

TPOTIC finds Boldy sprinkling every ounce of his Detroit seasoning into Al’s pot to yield one of the most Mobb Deep-esque collaboration albums since Mobb Deep was dropping albums. In turn, this project is not only Boldy’s greatest work, but it serves as a re-introduction of a veteran MC that is suddenly more relevant than ever.  Much like what Freddie Gibbs and Madlib did with 2019′s Bandana, this project is a great lesson on what MC and Producer chemistry can sound like when both parties are 100% on the same page when it comes to message, tone, and aesthetic goals. 

It would make sense that Boldy James would fall into the Griselda fold, because much like Westside Gunn, Conway The Machine and Benny The Butcher, he comes from a city with a rich rap music scene that still struggles to reach the level of exposure that the NYCs, L.A.’s, Chicago's and Atlanta’s have basked in for so long. He writes from a place of “been there, done that”, showing a rich attention to detail that separates his street tales from that of his peers in the same way someone telling a story second or third hand can’t match the level of detail that an eye witness has saved in the memory bank. Boldy has survived both real world and music business challenges to rise from the ashes of “hey whatever happened to so & so, he was about to blow” conversations to reach a new peak in his mid-30′s. He deserved this suite of incredible Alchemist soundscapes (Al is deep in his bag here, delivering some of his most low-key impressive instrumentals in years), and like his super-producer buddy, Boldy is looking down at us from atop an already prolific 2020 at its’ midpoint.  

I’m not sure anyone can match the chemistry that Prodigy and Mobb Deep had with The Alchemist, but in 2020, The Price of Tea in China delivers some of the most brutally subdued, occasionally humorous, stripped down rap records since P was throwing TV’s at us like he had nothing left to lose. If The Price of Tea in China isn’t holding the championship at year’s end, it still deserves to be mentioned as an impressive work by one of the strongest title-worthy unions running the pick and roll in the genre today.

2. Àdá Irin by Navy Blue 

Okay let’s be honest: the “sub-genre” that is often referred to as lo-fi rap music (whether you consider it an actual lane or not, I know you know what I’m talking about...which I suppose proves its’ existence, right?), is beginning to suffer from the same affliction that all other sub-genres tend to suffer from once the word is out that this is “the thing” that the kids find trendy right now. A lot of folks in this lane sound *exactly* the same to the average listener. I’m not even the average listener, and I often feel that way. The irony that comes with being part of the sound that’s supposed to be bucking the mainstream clone machine turning into a mini-clone machine itself, means that the window is in danger of closing to avoid over-saturation of the artists that are already thriving between the gravelly, whisper-welcoming walls of Soundcloud URLs and Bandcamp EPs being slid to their heady fanbase with zero promotion. So with that all being said...why give Navy Blue a chance?

Navy Blue lacks the name recognition of many of his peers (for now), but he has now been thriving in the lo-fi pocket for some time as both a MC and producer, a young artist that’s closely connected to the lane’s most famous figureheads (Earl Sweatshirt, and to some extent, Mach-Hommy), as well as less heralded trailblazers like MIKE and the whole sLUms collective. Sure you can check out Navy’s Soundcloud page to get a taste of his work, but with this Àdá Irin album, we don’t just hear raw snippets of a freshly discovered unsigned talent. With this album we hear Navy as a self-assured solo artist, capable of sharing an inspirational song with the likes of Ka and sounding like every bit of the veteran next to the iconic soft-spoken lyricist. This is a very, very impressive debut full length album that showcases the best that the (sub)genre has to offer: some experimentation, jazzy loops, the diary-like intimacy of words that sit like dust on an old basement book shelf, and the raw emotions that come from working through love, pain and loss in real time. In 2020 there may be nothing completely new under the sun, but it’s the aesthetic choices that Navy Blue makes with every verse and every instrumental that make Àdá Irin feel like a perfect balance of beauty and sadness. If you want to dip a toe in this water but you’re not sure you can get into the mumblecore-ish world of MIKE, MAVI, Medhane or Earl’s work from the past two years, this Navy Blue album might actually be the perfect intro.

3. A Written Testimony by Jay Electronica (featuring JAY-Z)

Not a lot of positive breaking news in 2020...but when Jay Electronica surprised Twitter with a few cryptic Tweets back in February, implying that he was dropping an album (and Jay-Z would likely be involved), the rap game was set ablaze with excitement, skepticism, disbelief, and hope (albeit with some measured caution there as well). 

This is something that fans, and arguably the entire rap world, had been clamoring for for a decade, many long since moving on believing that Jay Elec’s debut album had gone the way of Detox, sharing “1a & 1b” status as the most eagerly anticipated projects none of us seriously expected to hear. 

Then it dropped....and then it went. In a Twitter-run rap world, quality is too often measured by how long a piece of art stays within the “trending” mix, as opposed to...well, whether or not it’s actually good! The truth is, A Written Testimony is not just good, it’s very, very good, and while it’s not the “Illmatic 2″ that some may have been expecting, realistically it’s superior to what I imagined a new project from such a reclusive artist would sound like in 2020. If you at least try to table the expectations laid out when “Exhibit C” came out in 2009...I think you will find a project (it’s up to you whether or not you want to count this a “solo debut” or not, but at this point, it’s new Jay Electronica - can we just leave it at that??) stacked with memorable moments, quotable gems throughout, stellar production (this is one of the best produced projects of 2020 by far, not sure how/why this piece of the puzzle would receive anything less than acclaim), and some moments of questionable preaching made more palatable by a strong overall voice and package.

Jay Electronica raps with conviction throughout, and while the project feels brief, it lasts long enough to be more than a quick feeling, even if many feel that it’s not long enough to feel like a full album. If "Exhibit C" was the teaser then this is the redband trailer, flashing enough skill and details to resonate for far longer than its’ duration. Much has been said about the heavy hand of JAY-Z on most of the project’s 7 tracks, but let’s be clear, this is not Watch The Throne 2 (even though at points, it may feel like something along those lines). Yes, in impressive fashion, Hov comes through riding shotgun to show a deeper shade of one of his more complex dimensions, with many of his rhymes begging for dissection with every bar. However, AWT features a JAY-Z that’s rapping through Jay Electronica’s lens, not by any means where 4:44 or Everything Is Love left off. This is definitely a Jay Electronica album. AWT dives in and out of Jay Electronica’s beliefs in broad strokes that appear and disappear rather quickly, but even when certain verses raise more questions than provide answers, every song still has at least a handful of the gripping words that remind us of what made Jay Elec-Hanukkah sound like the chosen one in the first place (his tussle with writer’s block and hesitation to put out any art make for some of the projects most engaging moments).

If A Written Testimony is the last Jay Electronica album we ever here - which I truly hope it is not the case - it is still a memorable piece of work. So if you were one of the folks that moved on from it after the “surprise” of Jay finally dropping a project subsided, I hope you change that stance and revisit it once again.

4. Descendants of Cain by Ka

“Quiet and frigid disposition, growin' up in the cold /  Surprised I ain't get high from what I was low enough to behold /  Like when Pops shot at the neighbor's shop, put one in his head /  He knew how he grew me, threw me the gun, a hundred, and fled /  Didn't play, 'fore po' arose dispose of exhibit A / I was raised to age a few years in a day /  If not elite, didn't eat if you didn't pray /  As much as I heal, had to deal, all my scars are here to stay /  Our senseis spent days peddling /  Our heroes sold heroin.” - Ka, “Patron Saints”

He makes it seem almost too easy. If the writing wasn't so gripping, you might not even revisit it. Ka’s Descendants of Cain arrived with little fanfare, except for the collective awe of his humble but religiously devoted fan-base. The religious devotion is an important piece here, as Cain adds to Ka’s quietly impressive discography another strong album that leans on classic scribes as inspiration to spin poignant metaphors on Brooklyn street philosophy. 

This time, the classic work is the Christian Bible, and Ka being the brilliant MC/poet that he is, seems to have little trouble working with the medium to preach without sounding preachy, and wax familiar-sounding nostalgia over wax that sounds as dusty as it feels fresh, rich, and urgent. Producing much of the album himself, along with a few trusted collaborators, the album’s strength is in its’ density, as each song feels like it requires a pause to unpack every bar...and to be honest, that’s exactly the type of attention this work deserves. If you missed this one in the first half of 2020′s feverish dump of new releases, you need to remedy that immediately.

5. Pray for Paris by Westside Gunn 

If The Alchemist is the overall rap music MVP for his many contributions to 2020 thus far,  Westside Gunn may deserve at least a few honorable mentions. From becoming the ambassador of Buffalo New York to stepping up as an ambassador of the underground rap resurgence, I don’t think any other rap artist has done more to run with the torch that Roc Marciano has been waving for a damn decade than the Griselda mastermind. If you happened to hear Gunn name-dropping to Peter Rosenberg on Rosenberg’s long-standing Real Late show on Hot 97, you know exactly what I mean. Shouting-out close allies and lesser known peers alike, Gunn’s presence proudly announced the underground movement’s invasion of the highly known New York City radio station. It felt like ECW invading WWE’s Monday Night Raw all over again. Of course Gunn’s voice was met with more ears than usual during that interview, since that appearance came hot off the heels of the release of his much discussed side project turned full-blown album, Pray for Paris.

By now most fervent rap fans know the story behind the album (a project that miraculously arrived to completion while Gunn was suffering from the affects of coronavirus), but for many Pray for Paris is the introduction to the story of Griselda Records and the world that they revel in. If Conway the Machine and Benny the Butcher are responsible for the Griselda team’s grittiest street tales, Westside Gunn’s success leans on his ability to blur the line between all-too-real violence and cartoon violence, splattered with elite luxury references and shout-outs for his fellow wrestling addicts. The song titles are merely scattered trains of thoughts that may or may not have anything directly to do with a song’s actual meaning, it’s like naming your child ‘brunch in Williamsburg’ just because it was the last meal you happened to have that day. An audience brought up on Lil Wayne as the God MC may be completely lost at the appeal, but audiences brought up on Wu, DOOM and Sean Price know exactly what vibe Westisde Gunn is going for.

At times Gunn can come across as more of a talent curator than a stand alone MC, so if this is the album that takes Gunn to the next level as a rap star, it would make him the most unselfish rap star to come along in some time. A rapper doesn’t jump on an Alchemist produced track with the likes of Freddie Gibbs and Roc Marciano and expect to leave with anything but the Bronze medal. The same can be said for his chopped and screwed contribution to “Claiborne Kick”, which clearly belongs to Boldy James. That’s not to say that Gunn’s verse is a weak moment on any of the joints on Paris, but the fact that he consistently surrounds himself with high caliber writers confirms that he is well aware that the quality of the final product will be determined by the team involved, not just the artists’ name on the album cover.

For someone that considers himself more of an artist than a rapper, he continues to paint intriguing collages with every album, featuring him at the center of an ever-expanding portrait of MCs, producers, singers, designers, and dancers. Pray for Paris is a typical Griselda project that also happens to sport the potential of something larger than most of their fanbase ever imagined. Yes we get the dark backdrops, elite underground production, and quotables throughout, but we also get a few additional shades, as Gunn dabbles with a “beauty and the beast” dynamic that cleanly pairs his violent imagery with fashionista pomp and circumstance (which no doubt helped draw the likes of Wale and Tyler, the Creator to this project). But t’s all less of a solo album to push a mainstream solo career forward, and much more of a cannonball through the mainstream wall, just to allow some sunlight to shine on his people...and his city, for that matter - because best believe, Paris may be the inspiration behind the project but Buffalo, New York is still with him every step of the way. 

6. Alfredo by Freddie Gibbs and The Alchemist

A highly enjoyable surprise drop from two-thirds of the potent combination that gave us the fan favorite project that was Fetti (shout-out to Curren$y, though), Alfredo feels like the perfect treat to hold us over during these trying times. It feels rushed, but simultaneously sharp and activated. It has the feeling of a controlled experiment that was slapped together in separate rooms, rather than carefully curated by multiple artists hunched over the same mixer for days on end. Alfredo is more of a display of two power hitters putting on an impressive showing at a Home Run Derby, rather than the collaboration that has been slowly simmering for years...but that’s also part of the fun, because it feels like Al & Fredo (eh?) were just as excited to release it as we all were to hear it.

Neither party is reinventing the wheel here, but if you are going to have a rapper and a producer connect for an album of great rapping over great beats, you would be hard pressed to find a more natural pairing than these two. The Alchemist delivers with samples that channel the speakeasy jazz of an old piano, and Freddie is simply the king of hard-rap soul right now, so he excels on every song. There are moments of darkness, moments of hope, and moments of self reflection (Gibbs is a logical choice to swing haymakers back at cops abusing their power), all delivered by Freddie at a break-neck speed over Al's significantly less urgent production....as if Gibbs frantically spilled his guts to his buddy over the phone while Al was kickin’ back with a joint saying “uh-huh...yup, I hear ya man.” The final result is an effective one, if not a quick teaser of what a lengthier amount of collaboration time between the two might sound like. It should also be said that the guest verses on this album (especially those from Tyler, The Creator and Conway) took this album up a few spots on this ‘best of’ list. Alfredo is easily one of the strongest surprises of 2020.

7. Reasonable Drought by Stove God Cook$ and Roc Marciano

There is a tradition in the rap music biz that newer/younger artists are often shepherded along by more seasoned artists in order to insure that the less experienced artist is blessed with the built-in audience that comes with a co-sign. It doesn’t always work, but typically the initiation comes with a solid musical foundation on a debut project accompanied by a greener MC still finding his/her way. Not the case with Stove God Cook$, he is perhaps the most unexpectedly fresh MC to be cut from classic rap cloth since Griselda & Mach-Hommy began to build cult-like followings.

While Reasonable Drought (and seriously, how bold of a title is that for a debut!?) is blessed by the impressive production and mentorship of underground rap icon Roc Marciano, it truly is the lesser known MC himself that captures the imagination right from the get-go. When I say that in my life time, I cannot recall such a strong debut performance by a MC that I have heard virtually no work from prior to his 2019 emergence, with the help of minimal publicity/ad budget (if any? Cook$ was barely on social media until *after* his album had already been released) on his way to dropping an album with zero features...then you should take my recommendation very seriously. Fresh style, some of the most rewind-worthy quotables in recent memory (an Uncle Buck reference!? Bow down, people), and a new following built exclusively on the word of mouth of equal-minded folks that were blown away by a project many copped on a passing whim... it’s clear that this moment could be the beginning of an amazing, fascinating career. 

Similar to Roc Marciano before him, Cook$ possesses a rare flare with his wordplay and delivery that makes even the ugliest tales of coke dealing and disrespectful criminal activity sound like the colorful exploits of a post-Blaxploitation hero. He delivers every bar with the uber-specific word choice of Roc, but the outgoing swag of a Max B. The man that has people that never touched cocaine in their life singing that they’re “smelling like a brick right now”, is smelling like a winner in 2020 and beyond.

8. Battle Scar Decorated by Monday Night & Henny L.O.

Last call to board the Mutant Academy bandwagon! 

I have been saying that this deep underground collective of MCs & producers has been low key having a banner year all year long, and scrolling through this list you can see exactly what I mean. Henny L.O. is too good to be slotted as just a battle rapper, while Monday Night is far too strong of a presence to be considered a mere associate of the core Mutant team. When you think of Mutant Academy and their respective affiliated acts, think of them as a gathering of solo artists that happen to make dope rap music together, but all parties involved are capable of standing on their own two. I think that’s what consistently impresses me about their projects...hat, and the lack of filler material.

Along with a deep Rolodex of mostly under-the-radar talent, the hunger and confidence of a thriving Richmond, Viriginia rap scene is present on every track of Battle Scar Decorated. Much like many of my favorite albums of 2020, there is no reinventing of the wheel here, the triumph is in the execution. Monday & Henny tag in and out, each with the confidence that they have spit the best verse on the song before they have even finished. It’s that level of ability combined with a shocking amount of production talent that makes Battle Scar Decorated essential listening to anyone that wants to be reminded of a vibe that hasn’t been in abundance in the underground rap scene since L.A. in the late 90′s. It wouldn’t be fair to talk about how much I enjoyed this project without including the great producers involved, so a big s/o to: Sycho Sid, C.R.I.S.T.E.N, James Couch, Savvy, Heather Grey, and Ewonne.

9. Eastern Medicine, Western Illness by Preservation

Accompanied by a who’s who of underground hip-hop’s finest (Roc Marciano, Mach-Hommy, Your Old Droog, Quelle Chris, Nickelus F, Tree, Navy Blue, Billy Woods, Ka *and more* - I mean seriously!?), Preservation has assembled an impressively cohesive compilation album both sonically and thematically. 

Incorporating record samples from his travels in China, Eastern Medicine, Western Illness feels born in simplicity even though it is anything but a casual collection of dope verses over tightly wound production. A quietly gifted producer, Preservation knows how to squeeze the best out of his guests without shouting the results through the speakers, the choices are more subtle but yield a high impact and replay value. Listening to the project feels more like listening to a secret, unreleased project, because it’s hard to believe that this much talent would gift this much high caliber writing to a compilation of songs...although that was not uncommon in the 90′s and early 00′s (ah, I’m showing my old age again). Perhaps that’s a testament to Preservation’s vision, a DJ/producer with a relatively small catalog built on curated quality (see his fantastic 2015 collaboration with Ka on Days With Dr. Yen Lo). Eastern Medicine has enough talent involved that it could have been a worthy listen even if it was just as a hodgepodge of donated loosies, so the fact that the final product is so much more than that makes it an album that warrants a great deal of more attention.

10. The Allegory by Royce Da 5′9″

No accomplished lyricist makes life harder on himself than Royce Da 5′9″. Be it his tendency to cram personal observations and disclosures in and around his punchlines, or experimenting production wise, the Detroit veteran is intent on finding new ways to approach fine wine music, tossing more complex offerings into his catalog over the past few years. Things are no different with The Allegory. 

Not only did Royce once again pen an album that speaks to his ability to cope with his own past and present, he inserts himself in the producer chair as well, addressing the trials and tribulations of the increasingly problematic world around him, over backdrops crafted by only his hand a a few trusted peers. The effect is mostly successful, with the production exceeding the expectations of many (myself included), while the writing is at times both thought-provoking and in need of further exploration on Royce’s part. The guest features range from effective to scene stealing (not because Royce ‘s verse is outshined, but there are moments where it seems as if the guest is better suited over Royce’s own production than he is). If you’re Royce Da 5′9″ and you release an album titled The Allegory, no one should expect a simple quick fix of bars over easily digestible instrumentals. The highs come in abundance, and while the lows come in small trip-ups and the occasional skit that the listener probably could have done without, you get the sense that with some editing and further focus of his lofty goals, his sermons could have been sharpened into a more effective analysis of many of his topics (the music business, being black in America, history, conspiracy theories), resulting in an incredible album instead of a very good one. Nevertheless, it is all worth the ride to hear the latest work from one of rap music’s most gifted MC’s from the past decade. If The Allegory isn’t a home-run, it’s at the very least a strong base hit.

Top 50 (all belong in the Top 10-25, but...there’s only 25 spots in the Top 25, soooo):

11. Cold Water by Medhane

12. Shrines by Armand Hammer

13. Bag Talk by yungmorpheus & Pink Siifu

14. Try Again by ovrkast.

15. RTJ4 by Run The Jewels

16. Noise Kandy 4 by Rome Streetz

17. Innocent Country 2 by Quelle Chris

18. Weight of the World by MIKE

19. Sages by Henny L.O. & Ohbliv

20. Milestones by Skyzoo

21. Carpe Noctem by Big Ghost Ltd

22. Lake Water by SeKwence

23. At the End of the Day. by Fly Anakin

24. Sole Food by Deniro Farrar

25. The Oracle 3 by Grafh

26. The Blue Tape by Tree

27. lo&behold by lojii

28. Infinite Wisdom by Lord Jah-Monte Ogbon

29. FULL CIRCLE by Medhane

30. UNLOCKED by Denzel Curry & Kenny Beats

31. The Throwaways by The Opioid Era

32. Anyways by Young Nudy

33. PTSD (Deluxe) by G Herbo

34. Holly Favored by Monday Night & Foisey

35. THE GOAT by Polo G

36. Demon & Mufasa by Yhung T.O. & DaBoii 

37. The Face of Jason by ANKHLEJOHN

38. My Turn by Lil Baby 

39. No One Mourns the Wicked by Conway & Big Ghost Ltd.

40. Two4one by Jay Worthy 

41. Free Drakeo by Drakeo

42. Alone Time by YL

43. Assata by CV$ a.k.a. Con$piracy & Teller Bank$

44. Thug Tear by Big Kashuna O.G. & Monday Night

45. Ways and Means by Rasheed Chappell & 38 Spesh

46. IMMORTALKOMBAT by Al Divino & Estee Nack

47. Young & Turnt 2 by 42 Dugg

48. Sleeper Effect by Sleep Sinatra

49. Juno by Che Noir & 38 Spesh

50. LULU by Conway & The Alchemist

THE REST OF THE BEST (all belong in the Top 50 releases of 2020, but..what can I say, blame 2020 for being such a stacked year for music/events I guess):

Black Schemata by yungmorpheus,  The Smartest by Tee Grizzley,  Polly by the Powder Keg by Chuck Chan & Pad Scientist,  High Off Life by Future,  Gotham City Album by Plex Diamonds,  Memphis Massacre 2 by Duke Deuce, Poetic Substance by RIM & Vinyl Villain,  Styles David: Ghost Your Enthusiasm by Styles P,  MF Bloo by Bloo & Spanish Ran,  LSD by The Leonard Simpson Duo & Guilty Simpson,  Funeral by Lil Wayne,  RAW UNKNOWN by Spectacular Diagnostics,  Nezzie’s Star by Eddie Kaine,  ShrapKnel (self-titled),  The Bluest Note by Skyzoo & Dumbo Station,  WUNNA by Gunna,  Get Money Teach Babies by Heist Life & Spanish Ran,  Open Casket by Killer Kane,  6 Rings by Yung Mal,  The Beauty of It by Eto,  Meet The Woo 2 by Pop Smoke,  Fresh Air by UFO Fev & Statik Selektah,  Vito by Vince Ash,  GRIMM & EViL by GRiMM Doza,  RUDEBWOY by CJ Fly,  Rocket to Nebula by Killah Priest,  EVERYTHING by Kota the Friend,  NO Blade of Grass by V Don,  Eternal Atake by Lil Uzi Vert,  I’m My Brother’s Keeper by Yella Beezy & Trapboy Freddy,  Carhartt Champions by Tree Mason,  Viral Viral! by Dunbar,  Rowhouse Whispers by Ray West & Zilla Rocca,  Magneto Was Right #4 by Raz Fresco,  DUMP LIFE by Tha God Fahim, Jay NiCE & Left Lane Didon,  Burn One, Tap In, Zone Out by Dot Demo,  FNTG: From Niggaz to Godz by Squeegie O,   PANAGNL4E, Vol. 2 by Los and Nutty,  Death 2 All Haterz 2 by Rigz & Symph,  Thank You For Using GTL by Drakeo & JoogSzn,  Adjust to the Game by Larry June,  Martyr’s Prayer by Elcamino & 38 Spesh,  BETTER by Deante’ Hitchcock,  Attack of the Future Shocked, Flesh Covered, Meatbags of the 85 by $ilkMoney,  No Cosign Just Cocaine 3 by Ty Farris,  Hear No Equal by Chuuwee,  MSYKM by Tsu Surf,  Your Birthday’s Cancelled by Iron Wigs,  Spring Clean by Curren$y & Fuse,  Arctic Plus Degrees (The Sun Don’t Chill Allah) by Planet Asia & DirtyDiggs,  Psychological Cheat Sheet by Vic Spencer, Glass 2.0 by Meyhem Lauren & Harry Fraud,  Trust the Chain by Planet Asia & 38 Spesh, Director’s Cut (Scene Two) by Ransom & Nicholas Craven, and Son Of A Gun by Key Glock.

[cinna-wanroll]

What would Satine think of Ventress flirting with her man?

Recorded my response to this question, so I’ll put the original script under a cut  (Beware, it's very confusing but does explain more in-depth why I think this situation would happen the way it does, not what actually happens)

Here is my elaboration of the situation explained in that script:

There aren’t many instances I could see where all of them are together, but at the same time, I think it’s even less likely that Anakin or one of the clones would mention Ob-Wan flirting with another woman in front of Satine. (Not only are they good friends, but does anyone really want to be the bearer of that news? To Satine? Lol)

So the best I could come up with was some type of peace convention that Satine managed to drag the Republic and the CIS to. As the host and the moderator, she’s tasked with observing the going ons of the attendants and assuring everything is running smoothly.

So she stands atop a small round balcony, resting her hands upon the smooth golden rails and looking out at the akward gathering with an eagle’s gaze. Nothing slips past her attention, although her mind is... distracted with thoughts of the dashing knight that stands near the bar, and her heart lingers hopefully as she watches the once uncomfortable divide dissolve into comfortable chatter. Well, once everyone’s had a drink or two.

This, of course, means that everyone is now unashamed of their attraction towards Obi-Wan Kenobi, who gathers a rather large crowd with exciting tales of heroism. 

Bail and Breha Organa, senator Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, and Ahsoka Tano we’re the first audience members- followed by an intrigued grandpa Dooku and a few distinguished CIS senators. Ventress pretends to reluctantly follow, although in truth she is quite excited to get an excuse to mingle with Kenobi.

She wears a lethal and sharp-looking cocktail dress, with intricate hosiery that may or may not store daggers. But it shimmers on her slender form, her awkward movements looking fluid and graceful underneath the fabric. She’s not used to this kind of getup, feeling foolish and flashy, but Dooku insisted she present herself eloquently for once. She wears a jewel-encrusted choker and a deadly scowl, her blush being banished to the farthest regions of light-as-possible pink. The back of her dress is black lace in jagged patterns. 

So there she stands among the crowd, wearing her best sneer and slowly moving closer to Obi-Wan subconsciously. 

Unfortunately for her, this behavior is not lost on Satine, who still remains legal as ever, watching the witch becoming more confident with every swig of champagne she takes. 

Obi-Wan has told her of this Dathomirian before, describing her as ‘a graceful and powerful assassin.’ Tales had reached her ears of an ongoing banter between her Jedi and the lethal woman, which she had been sure to inquire the former about. 

He had only looked down and blushed for a moment, before explaining that the easy flirtation seemed to give him some sort of edge in their duels. But when he had looked back up and grabbed her hand, gazing intently into her eyes, Satine’s doubts were washed away and she didn’t bring it up again. She shouldn’t expect someone such as Obi-Wan to be restricted from flirting now, should she? He was a natural flirt, and a damn good one at that. After all, he’d somehow stolen Satine’s well-guarded heart. 

That didn’t mean she had to be happy about it though. 

So she watches with narrowed eyes as Ventress starts laughing maybe a little too much at something Obi-Wan said, and rests a hand on his shoulder. 

Oh, she definitely isn't happy about that. 

But Obi-Wan only moves slightly, taking a well-measured step away from the other woman, and returns gracefully to the story he was telling before. 

She doesn’t miss how he glances up at her and smiles almost imperceptibly. 

Ever the gentleman. Reassuring her that he wasn’t ever going to be anyone else's but hers. And she appreciates it, but if Ventress’ continued advances were making him uncomfortable as they were beginning to appear to, she isn’t going to let that slide. She isn’t going to let him sacrifice his comfort for politeness or manners, especially when it involves another woman.

But she also isn't going to humiliate either of them, so she tries to catch the witch’s eyes from across the ballroom. This time Ventress places her finger on Kenobi’s chest, trying to mouth off about something or other. 

The former nightsister glances up for a brief moment, to catch an imperiously glowering duchess very pointedly looking at Ventress’ finger. 

The meaning isn't lost upon her, but she’s pretty far from sober- just drunk enough to not care about what her master might think about her blatant coquetry. Not to mention, Ventress is both possessive and aggressive, even when she isn’t intoxicated, so she doesn’t budge. 

Satine just internally sighs and withdraws from her spot, one hand tracing the railing of the curved staircase. 

Much like Ventress, Satine is also stunning in an elegant gown that looks like melted gold, her hands covered by silken white gloves. Her hair, which has grown out to her shoulders, is wavy and flowing, her blazing blue eyes catching every light in the room. She practically shines. She’s radiant and majestic, demanding the attention of everyone in the room. And she definitely doesn’t mind, especially as she catches Obi-Wan watching every move she makes.

She might even sway her hips just a bit more than is completely necessary. 

Obi-Wan’s breath catches in his throat as he watches her, entranced as her eyes linger on his. 

He tries to hide red that creeps up to his cheeks, lowering his face and pretending to cough. 

Satine approaches their group and all respectfully bow. She smiles softly and greets Padme and Ahsoka before coming up behind Obi-Wan, resting one hand on his shoulder as she stares down Ventress. 

“Hello, Master Kenobi,” she says, her tone almost patronizing. It has just enough edge to it that Ventress gets the message, but just enough kindness that she doesn’t necessarily have to worry about the tabloids talking about it the next day, or have it become a topic for gossip among the senators. 

Obi-Wan swallows and nods to her, pretending he can’t feel her breath on his neck. 

“Duchess.”

Ventress pulls away quickly, taking a slightly wobbly step back. 

Dooku tries his best not to smirk. He knows exactly what this is. It’s a dominance display, and this pacifist has just made his own apprentice back down. But that, of course, is Kenobi’s woman- a woman with a fire in her heart and eyes, and an undying, kind passion. Sassy, witty, strong. He pushes away a sense of pride and instead pulls Ventress back a few steps. 

He doesn’t want her fighting a losing battle, what with the way Kenobi is currently looking at the duchess. 

The count even catches a smug grin on Skywalker’s face as he leans over and whispers something to that pesky little apprentice of his that makes her bat him on the head. 

He tries not to think about how she would be his great great great grandpadawan. 

At some point, the group disbands and Obi-Wan and Satine retreat to one of the secluded garden gazebos and dance to the distant music. 

Satine doesn’t ask, but Obi-Wan eventually says, “You know I would never- right?”

She just smiles against his cheek, nodding, “I know, I just don’t want someone else touching you.”

He chuckles, “in my defense, she wasn’t- erm, kindly touching. At least, not when you walked up.”

                                            *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Maybe one day I’ll make this a full fic, but for now enjoy this summary fic thing. Sorry this took so long to answer :/ I hope you like it though! I loved imagining Ventress’ dress, although I probably didn’t describe it as well as I could have. I'm up pretty late writing this. 

Below I talk about some of the books and comics and my opinion on Obiress, it’s just a little jumbled because I’m much less precise with my language skills when I actually speak (and that’s not very much at all considering the fact that I’m not very precise in my writing either lol). 

Thanks for the ask Oodles!

_____ Because apparently Tumbr can’t make cuts work on asks_______

“I actually was thinking about this the other day, and I had this whole scene in my head.

I uh- I don’t really know why I don’t write this stuff out in fics- probably just because I feel like I’ve already done that, I’ve gone through the effort of imagining it in my head so it’s quote-unquote written, so I feel like I shouldn’t have to. I wish I could just project my thoughts into other people's minds, but unfortunately, that’s not possible as a human being.

So anyway what I was thinking was I was sort of imagining them at this big party because I think that’s the only way that Satine and Obi-Wan and Ventress would ever be in the same space.

I’m sure he’s told Satine in the past about Ventress, but the thing is is that I feel like in the comics that I’ve read Ventress is absolutely in love with Obi-Wan because he sort of helps her realize who she is a little bit better, but he’s not romantically interested in her in any of the comics at all to be honest. Although I think she more looks up to him, and that sort of throws me in the comics. Steers me away from you know, any romantic ideas between them. Yeah, I don’t think that they would ever be in a romantic relationship- in fact I am a big Quinlan and Ventress fan, but there is definitely- Obi-Wan absolutely flirts with her in the Clone Wars, there’s no denying that. I mean when you call somebody ‘my dear’ you’re obviously flirting with them. But Obi-Wan specifically stated that it’s for- you know it’s just— it’s like a game almost, to get into her head and whatever. So again I don’t personally think that it’s cannon at all, and I don’t support that ship, but I think Obi probably has told Satine about Ventress and who she is, as well as that, you know, he does flirt with her.

I don’t think Satine would care all that much until she saw Ventress maybe making a move or something or like any sort of advance towards Obi-Wan. I don’t even think that Obi-Wan would flirt with Ventress in a public area in front of a lot of people, and I definitely don’t think that he would flirt with her in front of Satine, and I feel like he would feel as though that would be disrespectful and I honestly don’t think he’s the kind of guy to do something like that if it’s not really needed at the moment.

So let’s say that they’re all at a big peace party for peace discussions and peace negotiations, and Satine happens to be there. I can see her standing at a distance while there’s sort of been like a crowd that forms around Obi-Wan, and Ventress happens to be in that crowd because it’s Obi-Wan.

Bail might be there, as well as Padme and Anakin and Ahsoka. There’s probably a couple other Republic senators, and then— not Dooku because I can’t see her flirting in front of Dooku especially, but I think, you know, some other separatist senators are there and they’re all sort of mingling. And you know they’re just there because, I don’t know, Obi-Wan just attracts people I guess, and they’re all chatting casually and sipping wine.

Satine’s to the side, looking off at the distance. She’s trying to be a moderator for anything, sort of overseeing the ballroom making sure that nothing’s getting out of hand and everyone’s getting along really well.

And then I picture that Ventress is sort of getting a little bit closer to Obi-Wan, taking steps towards him, or maybe the occasional pushing of a shoulder or something, and Satine sort of catches her eye across the ballroom and gives her the look like ‘you betta keep your hands off my man, don’t do it again if I see you do it again I’m gonna come over there.’ And you know Satine would be great at making that face.

But anyway, so then Ventress does it again, and I don’t think Satine would freak out- I just think that Satine wouldn’t want Obi-Wan to feel uncomfortable, and she doesn’t want anybody touching on her man because that’s not cool. Even if Ventress isn’t a threat, because I don’t think Satine would feel threatened at all, but she still doesn’t want anyone interacting with her mans in that way. So I could see her walking up purposefully, with like a confident stride and sort of making lots of eye contact with Ventress and then coming up from behind Obi-Wan and sliding her arms around his shoulder and all getting close and saying something like ‘hey babe’.

I think Obi-Wan would acknowledge Satine when she would walk up and do something like that, he would probably understand what’s going on at that point and I think Satine might try and drive him away from that area.

But I don’t think it would be a big deal honestly because I don’t think that Satine has any reason to feel threatened by Ventress.”

[violethowler]

This Isn’t A Zero Sum Game: An Analysis of Lotor’s Interactions With The Paladins as a Whole Across Seasons 5 and 6

Every once in a while I’ll think about some “hot take” I saw in the VLD fandom more than a year ago and just think about how canon... just did not support those  conclusions... And since that’s how most of my meta get started, I churned out a new one: 

In the wake of Seasons 5 and 6 dropping I saw a lot of posts, particularly from Lotor stans, bashing the Paladins for the way they treated him in the first two episodes of Season 5, how cruel they were to just give him over to his father without a second thought. I even saw a few arguing over how humane his treatment was in S5E1. 

While I do believe that Lotor’s desire for peace was genuine (as we would have seen in Season 8 before the executive meddling cut the payoff), I think that it’s a little extreme to argue that the Paladins treatment of him in S5E1 The Prisoner was unethical, or that they were just throwing him to the wolves in S5E2.

To quote one of my favorite video game characters, “Let’s hit these plot points in order.”

What exactly were people expecting the Paladins to do after Lotor saved the day in “A New Defender”? Immediately welcome him into the fold with open arms and a fresh batch of cookies that Hunk made just for the occasion? They’re forgetting that just a few episodes ago, Lotor was still in charge of the Galra Empire. He wasn’t a fringe third party with a checkered past who showed up to help when the chips were down like Rolo and Nyma. For all of Season 3 and most of Season 4, he’s been an enemy combatant, and they treated him as such. While he may currently be at odds with his father after S4E3, the Paladins have no way to know whether he genuinely wants peace or is just telling them what they want to here so he can take advantage of them. Because he’s done it before.

In S3E2 Red Paladin, Lotor has Narti use her mind control powers to have the leader of Puig send a distress signal asking Voltron for help. When they arrive, he ambushes them and sends multiple waves of fighters to gauge their skill and whether they would be able to retrieve the trans reality comet. When he gets what he wants, he leaves.

Two episodes later, in S3E4 Hole in the Sky, Lotor attaches a distress beacon to the ship with the comet inside that mimics an Altean distress signal. When Voltron arrives, he waits for them to retrieve the comet, then attacks them, steals the comet for himself, and flies off.

That’s two times now that Lotor has faked a distress signal and then used Voltron’s desire to help to further his own agenda before flying off with the fruits of his labor. He may not have done anything to them since then, but they are understandably wary of being used like that a third time. You know how the old saying goes. “Fooled me once, shame on you. Fooled me twice, shame on me.”

So, when he slides up to the Coalition saying “hey, I know we’ve fought in the past but let’s see if we can come to an agreement”, he’s looked at with suspicion, and understandably so. The Paladins aren’t going to just give free reign of the Castle of Lions to someone they know very little about, who was an enemy combatant less than a month ago (by all indications S4E2-6 take place within a very short period of time), and who has a history of using their desire to help people to advance his own agenda. So, they put him in the cell as a probationary measure. If he proves trustworthy, they give him access to more of the castle. If it turns out that he’s using them for his own ends like they fear, well, they’ve already locked him up, and at least he wouldn’t have been able to access any sensitive information. We see that bear out in S5E3 Postmortem. The Paladins aren’t bothered that Lotor’s out of his cell. He’s proven his intentions by killing his father. Their main reaction is surprise that they’re giving him access to the bridge already.

[EDIT]: Some posts following the release of Season 5 pointed out that if the lights on Lotor’s prison deck were kept on 24/7, it would constitute a form of torture. While that is a valid point to make, I saw quite a few blogs that took that possibility and exaggerated it, not even considering the “if” part of the original discussion, declaring it as fact, and rushing to label the Paladins’ actions as war crimes because we never saw Lotor’s cell with the lights off. It should be noted that all of these scenes took place in the daytime, and while we never see that specific room at night, Season 2 already showed that the castle’s lights are turned off during the night cycle, and there’s nothing to suggest they didn’t do the same with Lotor’s cell. 

And there’s also another angle that isn’t really talked about – that not everyone we saw in the Coalition in previous seasons was willing to work alongside Galra like the Blade of Marmora. While the rebels we see in Begin the Blitz and A New Defender are just fine working with the Blades, it’s not out of the question that some Coalition members might resent the Coalition’s Galra allies. And if Lotor’s on the Castle of Lions, that would make him a target. The cell could also have been just as much to keep trigger happy Coalition members out as it was to keep him in.

Then I hear people arguing that they were just going to hand him over to Zarkon with no strings attached, that they were just going to give Lotor up and trust that Zarkon would stay true to his word. It sometimes sounded like some people want so badly for Lotor to be a bigger victim than he already is that they twisted canon to make the Paladins out to be thoughtless jerks. Because S5E2 Blood Duel shows us that everything that happened was all according to plan.

For those who are unfamiliar, the Unspoken Plan Guarantee trope refers to the pattern that the more the audience knows the details of the plan beforehand, the greater the chances the plan will fail, and the fewer details the audience knows in advance, the greater the chances the plan will succeed. Explaining the details of the plan after it’s been successfully carried out is optional.  

After Zarkon pulls the hologram trick, the phrase “Hold our position until the time is right.” Is repeated by both Shiro and Lance (albeit without the “until the time is right” part for Lance). And the show tells us that the moment when “the time is right” is when Lotor attacks Zarkon and leads him away from the shuttle.

When the Paladins are arguing with Shiro in S5E3 Postmortem, they don’t say anything to the effect of “why did you give Lotor a weapon?” They had no problem with him being armed. The issue they had was that Lotor was given the Black Bayard, his father’s signature weapon they had only just gotten back from Zarkon 14 episodes ago. One wrong move in Blood Duel, and that weapon would have been back in Zarkon’s hands. And for a moment in that episode, it was. Zarkon did get his hands on the Black Bayard and if Lotor had been a second too slow, Zarkon would have killed all five Paladins, plus Matt and Sam in a single strike.

I’ve mentioned before that VLD prefers to show things to the audience rather than explain them out loud. Sometimes it’s to the show’s detriment because the answer to viewers’ questions aren’t immediately obvious. But watching Blood Duel again, it’s clear that plan was always “make the hostage exchange. Wait for Zarkon to double cross us. Lotor attacks Zarkon and leads him on a chase across the desert. Shiro, Matt, and Pidge storm the shuttle to free Sam.” The Paladins were always going to ensure that Lotor was armed during the fight with his father. The only issue they had was Shiro’s choice of what weapon to give him.

So now that Lotor has proven they can trust him, they start to drop their guard and be more casual and friendly around him. And according to Matt during the flashbacks in S7E7 “The Last Stand: Part”, by the time Sam Holt has been on Earth for just over a year, Voltron had been missing for six months. That means that between S5E5 Bloodlines and S6E4 The Colony, Voltron and Lotor had been working together for just over six months. That’s six months of the Paladins slowly growing to trust and befriend the new Galra Emperor. But the little embers of doubt about his intentions were still there in the back of each of their minds.

That’s why it’s so easy for the Paladins to believe Keith and Romelle when they show up accusing him of murdering Alteans with no concrete evidence other than their own assumptions. Because given his behavior before Naxzela, an apparent reveal that he had been playing the long game manipulating them all along rekindled those embers of suspicion. It’s easy for them to conclude that Lotor was playing a long con since it would fit with his behavior towards them prior to Season 4. Because what non-nefarious reason could Lotor possibly have for not telling Allura and Coran that he had been sheltering the surviving Alteans after working together for six months?

We know why Lotor didn’t say anything. Because he refused to risk Haggar discovering the Colony’s existence and scouring the universe until she found it. But the Paladins have never experienced the level of privacy invasion and subsequently justified paranoia that Lotor has. So, they do not have the experience to understand that he refused to risk the security of the colony by revealing its existence where Haggar might have spies or listening devices or cloned sleeper agents to overhear.  

I agree with the theory that Lotor was telling the truth about the Altean Colony and that what was happening there was not what Keith and Romelle believed it was. I absolutely believe that the Paladins leaving Lotor in the rift was a mistake. But the attempts by certain Lotor stans to water this down to a black and white scenario of Paladins Evil, Lotor Good are not supported by canon. Canon shows us that the falling out between Lotor and the Paladins was a messy situation where everyone had understandable reasons for reacting to the reveal of the colony as they did. That doesn’t make any one person’s reactions right or justified, only that if you put the pieces together it’s understandable how they reached the conclusions they did.

TL;DR: There is no evidence in the show that suggests Lotor was treated inhumanely, the Paladins were never going to just hand him to Zarkon unarmed and hope for the best, and Lotor's paranoid refusal to tell them about the Colony gave Keith's accusations greater weight because it was in line with his behavior towards the Paladins in Season 3 enough for them to believe that he had been pulling a long con all along. 

[happytroopers]

Gimme Gimme Gimme // Voulez Vous

When you woke up the next morning, you felt so incredibly awkward with Dogma clinging to you. Quickly and quietly, you slipped out of bed and into the bathroom to shower for work. You breathed a silent thanks when you saw he was still asleep. By no means did you regret sleeping with him(and for his first time it wasn’t half bad- he was very good with instruction) but you were too young to be tied down- what was so great about commitment when you had your whole life to settle down? Still, not wanting to hurt his feelings, you jotted down a page and half of explaining yourself and bolstering it with sweet (but still sincere) statements. For good measure, you spritzed it with your perfume before laying it on your pillow. You took one last look at the sleeping soldier before leaving for work. When you returned, the note and Dogma were gone, and your bed was neatly made up.

Nevertheless, life went on. Besides picking up a man, performing at 79’s opened up many new opportunities. Apparently, at your previous performance, some rich kid decided they just had to have you perform at their birthday bash on their private cruiser. The gig was going to be all inclusive and still pay more than any other performance combined. Needless to say, you and the dynamos agreed instantly and packed your bags. Rendezvousing at a high-class landing bay, you ran excitedly up to them, starting the chant you had made up as college roommates.

“Dynamos!” You yelled, but they quickly joined in, bumping hips and pumping fists, “Dynamite, sleep all day… And WHOOP! All night!!”

Dissolving into fits of laughter, you didn’t even notice the uniformed clone troopers approaching you until one tapped you on the shoulder. Still breathless from laughing you spun around to find a helmeted trooper staring down at you. “Is, heh, there a problem, sirs?”

“No problem, if I follow you around all weekend, I might come away with a new wardrobe.” The one closer to you held out his hands as he snickered, which were now full of your clothes. Gasping with red cheeks, you snatched the items out of his hand before snapping your attention to your luggage. As you guessed, your suitcase was half open, clothes– casual and performance alike– spilling out.

“Well, I doubt they’ll work for you.” You grumbled, snatching your delicates away from him and shoving them back in your suitcase. He kneeled down to help, removing his helmet as he did. You momentarily were distracted, taking him in– his eyes were darker than Dogma’s, a tattoo on his temple, close-cropped black hair, and a neatly trimmed goatee. Meeting your eyes, he only chuckled again, holding up a metallic top to his armored chest.

“I can make it work.” He shrugged before handing it over. Shaking your head but unable to hide your smile, you quirked an eyebrow at him and nodded towards his partner– who had also removed his helmet and was watching the situation with a slight cringe.

“I didn’t realize this was an… occupied event.  What are you soldiers doing here?” You asked, zipping your suitcase. Glancing between the two, you found the hand-printed soldier had focussed his attention on Rosie.

“Arc-troopers, ma’am,” he clarified, the mischief still in his eyes, “My partner, Echo, and I, along with a handful of troopers were assigned to keep tabs on the event. With so many high profile people, our superiors wanted to make sure no one took advantage of the situation. Speaking of, we need to see some identification?”

“Mmhm.” You smirked while getting up, “I’m (Y/N), me and my friends were hired as entertainment. Never caught your name though?”

“Well so far, you have been most entertaining.” He mused, “I’m Fives.”

Sharing one last smile, he nodded to you as your friends drug you along to board the cruiser- already bustling with drunken youths. Glancing over to Echo, he saw his brother shaking his head at him.

“Echo, I’m beginning to think this gig won’t be so bad.”

While your accommodations left much to be desired, settling in wasn’t hard- you, Rosie, and Keehla were bunked in with the other entertainment. Servant droids provided you with schedules and maps, showing you where and when to be places. “(Y/N) and the Dynamos” were scheduled for the last performance slot of the night- and it was going to be one hell of a performance.

Rosie opened as always, so with fog swirling and the lights dimmed, you took your opening pose. Growling into the mic, the twi’lek shimmied as she spoke, “Ladies and Gentlemen, for one night, and one night only: (Y/N) and the Dynamos!”

The teenagers hollered and clapped as the lights flashed on, illuminating and reflecting on the metallics and glitter of your costumes. Since most in attendance were students, you decided to open with “When I kiss the Teacher.”

Everybody screamed

When I kissed the teacher,

And they must have thought they dreamed

When I kissed the teacher

All my friends at school

They had never seen the teacher blush

She looked like a fool

Nearly petrified ‘cause she was taken by surprise

When I kissed the teacher

Couldn’t quite believe her eyes

When I kissed the teacher

My whole class went wild

As I held my breath

The world stood still but then she just smiled

I was in the seventh heaven

When I kissed the teacher

What a mad day

Now I see everything in a different light

What a mad day

I was up in the air

And she taught me a lesson alright

As expected, the crowd danced and jumped along, and kept the same energy for the next song. You glanced to your side to see Rosie winking at someone along the far wall, you followed her eyes to find Echo, the other arc trooper, watching her contently as she swayed and shimmied to the rhythm. Knowing Fives must be around, you looked around the room to find him on the opposite end of the room- unlike Echo, he had his helmet on, but still nodded as if you met his eyes. Throwing him a wink, you introduced the next song, “Now THIS is a party! ‘Voulez-Vou’ means ‘Do you want to?’ And I think you do!”  

“People everywhere

A sense of expectation hangin’ in the air

Givin’ out a spark

Across the room your eyes are glowin’ in the dark

And here we go again, we know the start, we know the end

Masters of the scene

We’ve done it all before and now we’re back to get some more

You know what I mean”

The dances to this song were generally more sharp, popping and bopping along to the beat, but still smooth when swayed through a longer note. Couples joined up, dancing together.

“Voulez-vous,

Take it now or leave it,

Now is all we get,

Nothing promised, no regrets

Voulez-vous

Ain’t no big decision

You know what to do

La question c'estvoulez-vous

Voulez-vous”

At the end of the chorus, the guitar sped up and became more intense. You flipped your hair around, holding a hand out to Keehla to spin her around, the tips of her montrals grazing arms as her long lekku swayed, teal skin shimmering with sweat and glitter and lilac eyes sparking. You laughed, throwing her a wink before extending another to Rosie. The Twi-lek happily took it, her icy, blue eyes sparkling as she danced. Moments like this were your favorite, but you still had a crowd to please.

“I know what you think

The girl means business so I’ll offer her a drink

Lookin’ mighty proud

I see you leave your table, pushin’ through the crowd

I’m really glad you came, you know the rules, you know the game

Master of the scene

We’ve done it all before and now we’re back to get some more

You know what I mean”

You followed Rosie and Keehla through some complicated footwork. Beginning to feel that ache in your lungs, but you pressed on. Throwing even more into the dance.

“Voulez-vous

Take it now or leave it

Now is all we get

Nothing promised, no regrets

Voulez-vous

Ain’t no big decision

You know what to do

La question c'estvoulez-vous

And here we go again, we know the start, we know the end

Masters of the scene

We’ve done it all before and now we’re back to get some more

You know what I mean

Voulez-vous

Take it now or leave it

Now is all we get

Nothing promised, no regrets”

The tempo once again picking up as the song came to closer to the end, but the choreography became more intense as well, many spins and dips and hair flips. You smiled through the breathlessness, the stage was a second home and the flashing lights only encouraged you.

Voulez-vous

Ain’t no big decision

You know what to do

La question c'estvoulez-vous

Take it now or leave it

Now is all we get

Nothing promised, no regrets

Voulez-vous

Ain’t no big decision

You know what to do

La question c'estvoulez-vous

Finishing with a pronounced pose, the lights dimmed for a moment. The three of you quickly gulped down some water, stretched, and grabbed feather boas- a fun prop for a strong finish. Taking the stage again, the Togruta strutted to the front.

“This one goes out to all my single ladies in the crowd,” Keehla announced, and once again the crowd cheered in response. You prepared yourself, this song had some dance moves… that the males in the crowd would enjoy. The guitar and bass played over loudspeakers as you started,

“Half past twelve

And I’m watching the late show in my flat all alone

How I hate to spend the evening on my own

Autumn winds

Blowing outside my window as I look around the room

And it makes me so depressed to see the gloom”

As you sang, you dropped to the floor- shifting your weight from leg to leg and swerving your arms to the words. Watching the audience, you could see some girls mimicking you in front of their dates- the dates clearly enjoying themselves. Slowly rising from your crouch, you joined Keehla and Rosie.

“Is there a man out there

Someone to hear my prayers

Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight

Won’t somebody help me chase the shadows away

Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight

Take me through the darkness to the break of the day”  

With you in the middle, the three of you dancing in perfect sync- Rosie’s back to your best, and you back to Keehla’s chest- you all shaded your eyes, pretending to scour the crowd. But your eyes flicked to Fives in the back, smirking at him. Moving on to the next verse, you pointed to the birthday girl, who was incredibly inebriated and dancing on a table.

“Movie stars

Find the end of the rainbow, with a fortune to win

It’s so different from the world I’m living in

Tired of T.V.

I open the window and I gaze into the night

But there’s nothing there to see, no one in sight”

The way the stage set up, you were able to step off the stage and on to a table, and from there either crowd surf or hop tables to join the birthday girl, who giggled widely and dropped her drink, as you danced with her. You grinned, snaking your feather boa around her as well and recreating the previous choreography with her instead of your friends, who were doing something similar with girls closer to the stage.  

“Is there a man out there

Someone to hear my prayers

Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight

Won’t somebody help me chase the shadows away

Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight”

Take me through the darkness to the break of the day

Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight… “

At the conclusion of the chorus, the girl stumbled into the arms of a rather handsome Pantoran boy. Sighing, you slinked back towards the stage, gathering Keehla and Rosie on your way to the big finish.

“Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight…

Is there a man out there

Someone to hear my prayers”

Once again pretending to scour the crowd, this time you directly pointed at Fives, glaring playfully with a wicked smile- he nearly fell over in surprise at the sudden acknowledgment. Popping each of your knees to the beat, you interpreted the words with your hands.

“Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight

Won’t somebody help me chase the shadows away

Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight”

Take me through the darkness to the break of the day”

Striking your final pose, the lights dimmed as the DJ began playing recorded songs and the three of you breathlessly wandered backstage. Collapsing onto the folding chairs, all you could think about was a nice shower and some food. What you weren’t looking forward too was sharing a bunk with six other performers, but you chose not to think about that when you collected your check. You trailed behind Keehla and Rosie, deciding only to shower and sleep- you’d deal with your growling stomach in the morning.

Just as you thought this, Rosie piped up, “I think, I’m gonna get changed and go join the party. The setlist has me in a… whoop-ing kinda mood- and I have someone in mind.”

“I’ll join you, might as well make use of the open bars.” Keehla shrugged. They turned to you, but you shook your head violently.

With a wink, the rest of you laughed. “Well, I’m in a sleep all day, and sleep more at night kinda mood. How do you have the energy?”

“Simple,” Keehla started, and Rosie chorussed her, “We’re dancing queens.”

don’t worry there’s more fives to come.

[3wisellamas]

Proof that Darrell and the Earl of Lemongrab are the exact same character

-Both were created in a lab by their sole parent, who they are devoted to and love above all else, putting that parent on a very high pedestal and even straight-up worshipping them. Their primary desire in everything they do is to make said parent proud of them.

-However, both are also severely neglected/abused by said parent when they fail to live up to expectations (which is almost always the case), and when this treatment pushes them too far bad things happen.

-Both have a twin sibling, in a technical sense -- Lemongrab 2 for Lemongrab, and Shannon for Darrell (they were originally quadruplets, and are still the same age). And while both sets of twins are extremely close, they often fight like all siblings inevitably do. (RIP LG2...)

-Both can be panicky, nervous wrecks at times, and need their more level-headed twin to calm them down. Thankfully Shannon is usually nearby when Darrell needs her, but LG kinda has to handle himself now...

-Both actually have very, very large families, with thousands of siblings!

-Both have been cloned by their parent. (A lot of times, in Darrell's case...)

-Both had That One Episode (You're in Control, Graybles), where they became stressed to their absolute limits over a relatively trivial thing and mentally snapped, and the results were NOT pretty. While Darrell didn't eat any of his brothers (good because Ernesto, Ray, and Jethro are angels), both did end up attempting to murder someone very close to them, which ultimately didn't succeed as the victim somehow survived, and both temporarily changed their status quo by taking a LOT of power by force.

-Both explode a lot oops

-Both have very high-pitched, shrill voices and scream quite a bit. (Darrell will never, ever reach LG's level in this respect though)

-Both are kind of their parent's "heir to the throne." Lemongrab is explicitly next in line to rule the Candy Kingdom if something ever happens to PB, and is quite eager to do so. And while it's more symbolic with Darrell, he did throw out his dad's chair when he took over Boxmore as CEO to rule it from a literal throne.

-Though they can throw down in a fist fight, both use primarily ranged weapons -- LG prefers to blast people with his Sound Sword from a distance, and Darrell has an entire arsenal of cannons, missiles, etc.

-While neither one is a great fighter, both have other talents which seem to run in the family. Darrell turned out to be a surprisingly good businessman, appropriate considering his two older brothers, and Lemongrab is an excellent inventor and scientist just like his mom.

-Related to above, both have mechanical skills they don't often get to showcase -- LG is an inventor as mentioned above, and Darrell's actual job when he isn't fighting is assembling robots and operating machinery on the factory floor.

-They both have really silly design flaws/weaknesses. LG just explodes when a harp is played vigorously nearby, and Darrell has his reboot button, which causes him to explode and be loaded into a new body, located right in the center of his chest.

-However, in spite of these, they're also designed to be EXTREMELY difficult to kill for good. Darrell is actually a hivemind operating from a server somewhere in the factory and controlling his thousands of bodies remotely, and LG can survive being completely drained of juice or even being blown up, and he can simply be refilled or sewn back together, no worse for wear.

-Both have a lot of different fancy outfits that they get to show off for us! They also have their one iconic outfit they wear when Shit Gets Real -- LG's general uniform and Lord Cowboy Darrell's costume.

-Both of their parents are self-proclaimed royalty (Princess/Lord), which they've technically inherited (LORD Cowboy Darrell, anyone?)

-Their parents happen to be in a romantic same-sex relationship with someone associated with fanged creatures (bats for Marceline, snakes for Venomous), and who may or may not have surprising familial connections with an archenemy. (Marcy -> Ice King, PV -> KO, maybe?)

-For better or worse, both tend to mimic their parent, particularly their nastier behaviors. LG recreated PB's entire castle for a dinner party, and we eventually learned that his dungeoning and interrogation habits were something he inherited from her as well. Meanwhile, aside from stealing one of his dad's lab coats to play house and running the company as CEO, Darrell also turned out to be unable to resist abusing his newfound power, pitting his siblings against each other to be his favorite and letting his ego drive him just as his father did.

-Both have actually taken legal measures to become more independent of their parent's influence, with Darrell turning his dad's investor's against him to keep him from just returning to the company, and LG and PB signing a treaty forbidding her from entering his earldom (except in cases of explosion).

-Both have very, very sharp teeth -- you do NOT want to get bitten by either one! (Especially in LG's case...)

-They both have rather...unusual diets, at least from our perspective. LG regularly eats people, dishes, and in one memorable instance a pie right out of a rat's mouth. Darrell CAN eat normal food, but seems to prefer batteries, bolts, and oil.

-Both wear an unusual leather accessory to bed -- LG's catcher's mitt, Darrell's cowboy boots.

-Neither one is anywhere near the age they look. Candy people age weird so LG can be anywhere from 8 to 800 despite looking like a young adult, while Darrell is rather explicitly 6-11 but has the body and brain of a teenager. (And both are at the maturity level of toddlers as well, further complicating things...)

-Speaking of brains, both have brains that are very, very easily accessible -- Darrell's is RIGHT THERE, and LG's head apparently just pops right open whenever PB needs to mess around with it.

-Both have a ton of anger and jealousy issues to work through, and are quite insecure about themselves. Don't EVER tell them that their son/baby brother is perfect or better than them, someone will die.

-For that matter, both were temporarily replaced by their beloved parent in favor of a younger sibling (Goliad, Boxman Jr), with neither instance going well at all due to the parent's own oversights.

-At least one of their younger siblings is a quadruped of indeterminate species (Goliad again, Stormo, Mikayla).

-At one point, Lemongrab 2 had one eye. At one point, one of the background Darrells had two eyes.

-Neither is shy in front of a camera. Darrell has commercials, short films, and at least one news interview under his belt, and LG made his own propaganda films for his earldom.

-Emotion trumps logic, every time. In fact, logic is the LAST thing that ever crosses either of their minds, considering their schemes usually run along the lines of "My people are hungry, so I'm going to use all my food to create an army to take more food to build a bigger army to take even more food..." and "I'm going to make my daddy proud of me by doing the evilest thing I can imagine, which is betraying him and shooting him into the sun!"

-Both were at one point commonly shipped with someone who had the same VA (LG2, Rad).

-Both are on shows whose protagonist is, for all intents and purposes, a puppy. ;v;

In conclusion, there's a lot these boys have in common, almost too much, and it really, really weirds me out sometimes.

[lobsters-on-their-heads]

Continuing Travels of Cophine, Part 2, Ch. 9

Hey, look, I finally wrote something! And it has smut (eventually)! 

The mention of Delphine stitching behind Sarah's ear comes from @mlleclaudine's delightful Cophine series. If you haven't read it yet, I don't know where you've been. Get reading it! <https://archiveofourown.org/series/314495>

Speaking of @mlleclaudine, thank you so so so much for checking this over and making sure I don't get too much wrong.

Also, thanks always and perpetually to @afrenchclone for helping me with all of the French. Merci toujours !

The entire Continuing Travels can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13525500

No matter how much time she spent with Charlotte, no matter how recent that time had been, every time Delphine saw her, she thought of the night she first saw her – bundled from head to toe, wrapped in Cosima's hypothermic arms. Her face was much the same for each new interaction with Delphine as it had been then, skeptical, closed off, wary. Delphine was never sure how much of it was an act, and how much a genuine defense mechanism.

“Bonjour,” Charlotte said.

Well. Maybe it was just her resting face.

“Bonjour!” Delphine replied. “Ça va?”

Charlotte nodded but gave no reply, instead limping across the room with her bearded dragon perched on her right shoulder and kittens frolicking around her feet. She'd been studying French for a few years, Delphine knew, but only for the past several months had those studies taken place in a classroom with multiple students. That “Bonjour” a moment ago was the first French word Delphine ever heard Charlotte speak. “I thought Cosima was coming with you,” Charlotte said.

“Yes, she needed to use the bathroom, so - ” She pointed upstairs to indicate where Cosima was at the moment.

“Oh.” Charlotte looked down at the bags they'd brought in, and her resting wary face opened up. It might've been Delphine's imagination, but it seemed that the bearded dragon perked up, too. “Are we going to use all of that? That's a lot of eggs.”

Before Delphine answered, Sarah thumped down the stairs just behind Kira, who treated Delphine like she'd been there for Kira's entire life. “Did you get any chocolate?” Kira demanded.

“Oi, say hello first,” Sarah said. As Kira mumbled a quick hello, Sarah faced Delphine and said, “Took you long enough. I thought you'd be here an hour ago. Where's Cosima?”

“She's using the bathroom,” Charlotte said. To Delphine, she said, “You didn't answer my question. Are we going to use all of those eggs?”

The varying pulls on her attention raised Delphine's anxiety, and there were still two other adults in the house. “We might,” she told Charlotte. To Kira, she said, “and no, we didn't get any chocolate.”

“Can we throw them at people?” Kira asked, hoisting one of the egg cartons in one hand.

Delphine and Sarah spoke in unison. “No.”

Kira pouted and slumped onto the couch with her phone. In a few seconds, various bloops, bings, and plops emanated from the device, and Kira's eyes and fingers darted around the screen while the rest of her body remained perfectly still. A dozen academic articles popped into Delphine's mind, all proclaiming the dangers of too much screen time for developing brains and eyes, but Sarah let it slide, so Delphine followed suit.

Cosima bounded down the stairs with her hands flapping beside her. To Delphine's arched eyebrow, she said, “The towels are damp. FYI.”

Sarah gave her unresponsive daughter a kiss on the head, hugged Charlotte, and then threw on her jacket. “Yeah, we don't quite have room service here like you two are used to. You a'right otherwise?”

Delphine looked over at Kira on the couch, and at Charlotte in the kitchen feeding a piece of apricot to her bearded dragon. “Euh, yes, I think so. We'll call you if we need anything.”

Sarah was halfway out the door before Delphine's comment registered, and she turned around. “Uh, you can do that, but I can't promise I'll answer. The girls know where everything is, and emergency numbers are on the fridge. Oh, and Art said he'll be here at seven.”

“Sounds good to me,” Cosima said. “Have fun, okay? You deserve a little time to yourself. See you later.”

After Sarah left, Delphine's first instruction was for the girls to wash their hands, but when Charlotte's bearded dragon stepped down Charlotte's arm towards the counter, Delphine stopped her. “Could you put... euh, what's its name, again?”

“Saphira. She's a girl.”

“I think Saphira should go back into her cage right now.”

Charlotte leaned against the counter and fixed Delphine with a small-mouthed stare. “She likes being on my shoulder.”

“I'm sure she does, but I don't want her getting into our food.”

“She's allowed to have human food sometimes, like fruits and vegetables. It says so in the book of bearded dragon care.”

Delphine looked around for some backup from Cosima, but Cosima was trying to pull Kira away from her phone, and both of them were giggling. “Charlotte,” Delphine said, “please put Saphira back in her cage. I don't want her roaming free while we're preparing food. It's not sanitary.”

Charlotte jutted her chin out to one side like Cosima and Sarah both did when they dug in their heels and gripped the counter top like she expected Delphine to physically pull her away, so she needed to brace herself. Before Delphine could ask again, or explain her request further, Cosima steered Kira into the kitchen.

“Yo, Charlotte,” Cosima said, “you should probably put Saphira back in her little house before we start in with the food, okay?”

Charlotte sighed and dropped her shoulders. She didn't reply, but limped away, up the stairs to her room, and for just a moment, Delphine hated both clones equally.

They spent the rest of the morning in the kitchen, more or less following Delphine's written and spoken instructions for deviled eggs (oeufs farcisto Delphine and Charlotte) and carrot cake with crème fraîche frosting. Delphine had cooked with the girls before, during their Christmas holidays and with Alison's participation, but she had never cooked with Cosima before. She'd assumed going in that cooking with Cosima would be like running a science experiment with her – Cosima would be diligent, methodical, and professional despite frequent bad jokes and pop culture references.

None of that was the case now.

Cosima was not concerned at all about the specifics of their recipes. Instead of weighing and sifting the flour and sugar, she directed Charlotte to simply dump the dry ingredients into a bowl after leveling off the measuring cup with her finger (of all things), and then she showed Charlotte how to blend the wet and dry with her bare hands. The girls, at least, found it delightful. When they tried doing that with the deviled eggs filling, though, Delphine put her foot down.

“Use a spoon, Chérie, please.” The cake batter was at least cooked after mixing. The eggs were not.

They smeared caked batter on each other. Cosima, Kira, and Charlotte all dabbed or wiped globs of the ochre gloop on each other's faces, necks, and arms, and while they exclaimed some version of “Oh no, you don't!” they all laughed together. When Kira lunged at Delphine with a handful of mayonnaise, though, Cosima grabbed Kira by the waist and spun her around to face the other way.

“Nuh uh. Nobody puts food on Delphine but me.”

In fact, the one time they'd tried using chocolate syrup with sex, the stickiness put them both off of doing it ever again, but the children didn't need to know that. Delphine kissed Cosima's sticky cheek while Charlotte fended off Kira's mayonnaise attack with a wooden spoon. “Thank you, mon amour. And please tell me that all of you are taking showers after this?”

“Oh, yeah. The girls can shower before Art gets here, and then I'll clean up real quick at the Rabbit Hole before the party. We've got time.”

And Kira talked the entire time. She talked about her school, her classmates, her teacher, and everyone in the neighborhood. She talked about Minecraft, Minecraft videos, and the children's hockey league she had recently joined. She talked about her mother, her late grandmother, her father, and all of her genetically identical aunties. She talked about her Uncle Felix and how he and Colin were having a bit of a rough patch right now because Colin wanted them to be exclusive and Felix was having a hard time with that.

“What's it mean to be exclusive, anyway?” she asked.

Delphine was washing out the mixing bowl they'd used for the cake batter, and exchanged a look with Cosima.

“It means you only date one person,” Cosima said. “One person at a time.”

“I thought that's what dating was,” Charlotte said. “Like, when people are dating, that means they don't kiss anyone else or whatever.”

Cosima's face was much calmer that Delphine felt, but Cosima still took a moment to answer, making a show of checking on the cake in the oven. “That is sometimes what it means. But sometimes people have open relationships, where they're allowed to kiss other people. Or whatever.”

“But then they're not dating,” Charlotte insisted. “They're...” She waved her hands around in a way reminiscent of Alison Hendrix. “They're doing something else.”

For the first time since they'd all gathered together in the kitchen, both girls' attention was fully on Cosima and Delphine.

“An open relationship means that two people love each other,” Cosima said, “and they put each other first, but they're allowed to... see other people on the side. They just need to communicate really well so no one's feelings get hurt.”

“Does that mean they have sex with other people?” Charlotte asked.

“Sometimes,” Cosima said. “But only if their partner is okay with it. Communication's the most important thing. And consent, of course. But that's true for any relationship, really.”

The girls thought that over. Charlotte had her serious face on again, and she watched Cosima and Delphine more closely, like she was putting their relationship into the context of what Cosima had just said. Delphine was on the verge of clarifying and she and Cosima did NOT have an open relationship, by mutual agreement, but Kira changed the subject to a story about a recent afternoon she'd spent with the Hendrixes. Delphine took a deep breath and went back to washing up, tuning Kira out for several minutes and letting Cosima do all the little “uh huh” noises. When Delphine tuned back in, Cosima had her hand on her hip and her eyes were narrowed.

“Oscar tried telling us we couldn't be there,” Kira was saying, “`cause him and his friends were gonna build a fort or whatever. Like, their yard isn't even big enough for a stupid fort! But then Gemma said that he used to wet the bed until he was, like, ten, and then he got really mad.”

Charlotte giggled at the story, but neither of the adults did.

“That doesn't sound very nice,” Delphine offered.

“We were allowed to be there!” Kira said. “He didn't, like, reserve it, or anything.”

Cosima adjusted her glasses. “Yeah, but there were better ways to handle that than embarrass him in front of his friends like that.”

“Well, maybe he shouldn't have told us to leave! He was being rude first.”

“That's not the point, and that's not really how people work,” Cosima said. “Just because someone else is mean to you, that doesn't give you the right to be mean back at them.” She tapped Charlotte's shoulder. “You and I have talked about that before a couple times.”

By the time the kitchen was cleaned up, with Cosima's insistence that the girls helped, the cake was out to cool and the eggs covered and stored in the fridge, Delphine was swaying on her feet. The girls went off to shower without encouragement, and Cosima rested her hands on Delphine's waist. “You might need a nap. I think the kids took it out of you.”

“A nap sounds good.”

The master bedroom, the best room to nap in at the moment, was remarkably tidy for what Delphine had come to expect from Sarah. Hell, it was cleaner than Cosima's living spaces were once Cosima spent more than a few days in them. The queen sized bed in the middle of the room was made, if not neatly, and the floor was clear. Books and papers littered the desk by the window, but it was clearly used as a desk rather than as storage. Delphine flopped on top of the bed, on the fleece blanket rather than under it. She was asleep in minutes.

Cool Mediterranean breezes blew sand all around her as she waited at the light rail terminal. No one else on the platform seemed to mind. In fact, the sand didn't even touch them.

They jostled onto the train, speaking in tongues and smelling of stomach acid. The train hit bumps on the track that no one else noticed. Only Delphine lost her footing and needed to grab at the back of someone's seat to stay upright. Then the train sped up onto a raised track overlooking the city. The view was beautiful, but no one else looked at it. At the next curve, the train hit a gap in the rails and bounced everyone up in the air...

“Oh, sorry, Delphine!”

Delphine panted, face up in the bed, clutching the blanket beneath her. No one else was in the room with her, but the bedroom door was open, and water was running. No. Not water. Someone was peeing. The air was cool with a hint of pine scent, and the pillow was wet right next to her head. By the time the toilet flushed, the sink ran, and the master bathroom door opened, Delphine's breathing and heart rate were almost normal again, but nothing else made sense.

“Sorry,” Kira repeated. “I forgot you were here, and I really had to use the bathroom.”

“Nnnh,” was all Delphine could manage, and then Kira was gone again.

Through the open door, Cosima's voice called out, “Okay, this time try to get it in without touching the edge, okay?”

Delphine propped herself up on one elbow and rubbed her face. The curtains were closed, but sunlight winked through the cracks. Her phone was nowhere, and there was no other clock in the room. She stumbled into the bathroom, awake enough to lock the door behind her in case anyone else forgot she was there, and took in the varied marker graffiti that edged the bathroom mirror. Some of the words (like pay taxes,, Kira dentist, and in prime place at the top of the mirror, BOLLOCKS) were clearly Sarah's, but others (I <3 kittens and Boys are dumb) were scrawled in childish writing, along with various flowers, mushrooms, and cat faces. Cosima's bathroom mirror back in Minnesota had had a similar ascetic, albeit with different messages.

She found the girls in Charlotte's bedroom, surrounded by scraps of fabric, string, ribbon, stickers, tape, and markers. A carton with five remaining eggs sat open on Charlotte's desk. Cosima joined them a moment later with a box of bendy straws, some broken-down cardboard boxes, and a pair of scissors. At least it wasn't a box cutter or a blow torch.

“Oh, hey, sleepy head!” Cosima grinned at her and pecked her cheek on her way into the room. “How'd you sleep?”

“Euh, well, I think.”

“We're doing science class!” Kira said.

“With crafts,” Charlotte added. “So it's like science art.”

Delphine ran her fingers through her hair and took in the mess. “It looks like fun. What are you doing, exactly?”

The girls looked to Cosima, but she gestured for them to answer. “We're dropping eggs out of the window,” Charlotte said.

“But we're not allowed to break them!” Kira added. “And now we have to get them to land in that tub down there, but without hitting the sides. Cosima keeps making it harder.”

Kira was not the first person to make that claim, and Cosima knew it, because she gave Delphine a pointy smile. “You wanna try?”

“Okay.” She sat on the edge of the bed and sorted through the supplies, not awake enough yet to form a plan. An egg appeared beside her, accompanied by another kiss on the cheek. “How many have you broken so far?” she asked. “These were $6 a dozen.”

Cosima sat beside her, careful not to upset the egg, and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Not very many. The girls have some pretty good designs so far, so most drops have been successful. It is no more or less wasteful than make two dozen deviled eggs that might not all get eaten.”

As she spoke, Charlotte tucked an egg into a little basket with a plaid parachute, leaned out the window, and dropped it. A few seconds later, she cried, “Oh no! It's in the neighbor's yard!”

“Well, sounds like you have to go get it, then.”

“Can't we just let them keep it?”

“Uh, no. That's called littering. Go on, we'll still be here when you get back.”

Delphine picked up her egg and considered it. It could have been an omelette, an oeuf farci, or part of a cake. Some countries would have pickled it and eaten it that way. Instead, it would be cloaked in cardboard, fabric scraps, and plastic, decorated with markers, and dropped out a residential window into a tub of dirty water. And considering Delphine's experience with this activity, the egg was just as likely to simply smash open on the ground, feeding invertebrates instead of people. Delphine picked up a Sharpie and drew a sad face on the shell.

Dropping eggs from Charlotte's window for another hour, as Cosima put more constraints on the girls' projects like size and material requirements, and the girls seemed halfway to jobs with an aeronautics firm. Delphine's own eggs did better than she expected, although the girls were divided in how many points to give her for style.

“They're sleek,” Charlotte asserted. “Missiles don't have frilly ribbons on them, so Delphine's eggs don't have to, either.”

“But they're not missiles!” Kira argued. “Eggs need to have some fashion sense when they go down.”

Delphine leaned against Charlotte's desk and took in the feedback. To Cosima, she remarked, “You know, I keep thinking we're talking about different kinds of eggs entirely.”

Cosima giggled. “Me too, sometimes. It's true, though. Your eggs don't have to have frilly ribbons if you don't want them.”

* * * * * *

After handing the girls off to Art at 7, going to the Rabbit Hole just long to clean up and grab presents for the sisters, then they were off again, in another Lyft car, to the address Alison sent that morning.

The resort overlooking Lake Ontario was reminiscent of their hotel in Muscat, except that here the temperature was in the 60s and the ethnic blend of patrons and employees was a bit more mixed. Clone Club had an entire spacious wing of the property to themselves for the night, including an indoor and outdoor bar, heated pool and heaters outside under a partial roof, and table and pub games inside. There was also a kitchenette tucked in behind the games area, where Alison puttered away. When Cosima and Delphine arrived, the rest of Clone Club was already there, many of them in some kind of swimwear. Helena was the only one not prepared to swim. She stood in a sweater and baggy jeans, watching Scott and Sarah play foosball and eating from a heaping paper plate.

Adele intercepted them just as Cosima handed off the carrot cake and eggs to Donnie at the food table. “Oh hey y'all! Welcome back to civilization and all that shit.” Despite the multiple sources of alcohol present, Adele did not have a drink in her hand. Yet.

Delphine returned Adele's hug. “Did you just arrive?”

“Oh, yeah. Flew in this morning. Last minute. Felix only just told me a few days ago that you were having this little shindig, and you know I can't turn down a good party. Besides, I missed everybody.” She looked over at the food they’d brought in as Donnie set it on the table. “Delphine, honey, if you made that, I'mma have to get me some. That looks too good.”

Delphine would have been flattered, but she could serve Adele a plate of week-old carrot shavings with a dusty radish on top and Adele would gush about “French haute cuisine,” and pronounce it “hoat kwezeen.”

“The girls helped,” she told her.

“Oh, well, that's another reason to try it. I have to tell them what a good job they did.” She waved to Cosima. “Happy late birthday, by the way. You and half the people here. Well, I guess some are early birthdays. Whatever. Twenty-one's the last birthday anyone really cares about, isn't it?”

“Euh...”

“Anyway, Felix'll be here in a minute. He had to run back out to the car for something. Oh, shit, hang on.” She rushed over to Alison in the kitchenette, who was balancing a few trays in her hands.

“Can I offer you ladies something to eat?” Donnie Hendrix wore blue swimming trunks and flip flops with a hooded sweatshirt, and his hands were clasped in front of him like any good customer servant. The poor man had probably had to serve guests at his own wedding, too.

“Um, sure,” Cosima said. “I see Helena's already been at the buffet.”

Donnie chuckled and handed them each a paper plate as he moved around to the other side of the table. “Helena's been to every buffet in Ontario, I believe. She makes them reconsider their pricing policies.” He picked up some tongs and clicked them a few times. “What can I get you?”

Nothing on the table would have prevented Cosima and Delphine from helping themselves, but Donnie seemed to enjoy his role as host, so they let him load up a single plate to share with bruschetta, mozzarella with basil, sliced vegetables, and cucumber sandwiches, some of the deviled eggs they'd brought, and a slice of carrot cake. Then they sat quietly together on a waterproof sofa under an outdoor heater, nibbling on the healthier foods first. All of it was good, almost certainly made by Alison, but like most food they'd had in the past few days, it had a certain blandness after two months of Middle Eastern and African dishes.

“Hello Sestra.” Helena slid herself into a cross-legged position on the floor in front of them, her plate freshly piled with carrot cake, eggs, and various brownies, just as Cosima and Delphine's plate was almost empty. “Much birthday happiness, yes?”

“Oh, yeah,” Cosima said. “Happy birthday to you, too, bub. Cheers.”

Helena giggled as they clinked their drinks together, but then she sat up straight to look at Cosima's. “You have only water tonight, sestra? Why not something better?”

“I don't drink if I'm swimming. Personal rule.”

Helena made a face at that but did not argue. “No drink, okay, but food, yes? You need more food, with all of the traveling around the world. You cannot save our sestras if you are hungry.” She transferred a piece of carrot cake, two brownies, and two eggs from her plate to theirs and gestured for them to eat it.

If Delphine ate as much as Helena wanted her too, she would most certainly not be as trim and fit as Helena managed to be. Not for the first time, Delphine wondered at the levels of malnourishment Helena must have experienced growing up that prohibited her from putting on more weight as an adult. She'd met enough clones by now to know that svelte wasn't necessarily genetic. Cosima was eating more carrot cake, though, and Helena was telling them to tell the girls how good it was, so Delphine went along. She'd had enough carrot cake already to last a week, though, so she took a brownie instead. It was delicious, heavily dotted with butterscotch chips, and she ate all of it before Cosima even picked at hers, but all the brownies lack Alison's tell-tale sharpness. In other words, it looked like a human made it, rather a team of cake robots.

“Who made these?” she asked Helena, as Cosima broke a corner off the other brownie, sans butterscotch, for herself.

“Brother-Sestra Felix made them. He said they are all special.”

At the same moment, Cosima swallowed her brownie piece and made one of the most interesting faces Delphine had ever seen. “Holy shit. That is very special. Um, babe? How much of that did you eat?”

“I ate the whole thing, why?”

“Oh, shit.” And now Cosima was laughing and waving at Felix, who stood in Donnie's place at the food table. “Felix! Did you seriously bring space brownies, man?”

He sashayed over in form-fitting shorts and a T-shirt with a rainbow dinosaur on it. “Yeah, why? D'you want some?” Looking down at Cosima, Delphine, and Helena, and at their plates, his face and posture drew together and pulled back. “A bit late for me to offer, though, I see. Shit. How'd you get some? I only just brought them in from outside.”

Cosima and Delphine looked to Helena, whose mouth was chipmunk-full. “Sorry,” she managed.

“How many did you eat?” Cosima asked her.

Helena shrugged.

Delphine looked down at the crumbs on her fingers. “Let me guess. Cannabis?”

“You could say that,” Felix said.

“Even the butterscotch ones?”

He nodded and Cosima put a hand to her own forehead. “And you haven't had any in a while, so...”

Felix draped his hand over Delphine's shoulder. “So you're about to have quite the interesting evening, I'd say. Stick to the short end of the pool if you get in, yeah?”

*

“I don't feel any different, I swear. And the water is wonderfully warm. You should come sit with me.”

Cosima crouched down beside her and brushed back the stray cluster of hair escaping Delphine's ponytail. “You're not feeling anything yet, but you will. Edibles just take longer to kick in.”

“You had some, too.”

“I had, like, two bites, and I'm way more used to pot than you are. You had a whole fucking brownie, a big one at that, and you haven't been high since Rachel had both of her eyes.”

“That's not true.”

“Okay, when have you been high since then? Don't tell me you toked up with old PT on the island?”

Delphine splashed a handful of water up at her and got a satisfying yelp in return. “I have smoked with you, mon amour, in the Rabbit Hole, before we left for Latin America.”

Cosima flicked Delphine's arm in retribution. “Smoked, my ass. I smoked, but you took, like, one drag and passed out.”

Delphine was not about to argue about that, and anyway it didn't change how she felt right now, which was full, content, loved, and a delightful mix of cool and warm at the same time. A hip-hop artist she didn't recognize played on the speakers and at the other end of the pool, Sarah, Alison, and Adele were doing something that looked vaguely like water aerobics but probably wasn't. Adele was starting to look an awful lot like a scarlet ibis when Cosima's phone rang.

“What the fuck?” Cosima muttered. They had their purses with them at all times out of habit, so Cosima could grab her phone before it stopped ringing. “Hello? Yes? Oh, hey, Gabriela! How's it going? Yeah, hang on, lemme go somewhere a little quieter.”

Gabriela. That could be anyone. She watched Cosima's shorts-clad ass hustle inside. It really was the cutest butt Delphine had ever seen.

When she turned back around, the chlorine vapors coming off the surface of the pool were green, reminding Delphine of nothing more than the absinthe fairy, and Adele had gone full scarlet ibis. Absinthe. Now that was something she hadn't had in looooong time. The last time had been, when? 2004? 2007? Too long ago, at any rate, and now here she was, sitting on the edge of a whole pool of it, it's little waves massaging her calves and the soles of her feet and singing a little song for her.

She slipped in, up to her ribs, and bounced. She bounced! It was the funniest thing she'd ever felt, so she bounced some more, up and down and side to side in the steamy green pool, laughing her head off and watching the stars dance around overhead to a mixed up mash of the hip-hop song playing and “Prét-à-Porter,” that song she'd listened to endlessly on the island because PT deigned that she could have a record player with one record and somehow or other she never hated it. Him, yes, but never the song.

And Sarah'd killed him with an O2 tank to the skull, and that's how she tried to remember him, but instead, the green water turned red and his gnarly fingers crept up her waist and she

did

not want

this.

“Oi, Delphine, you doing a'right over here?”

Cosima stood in front of her, but it wasn't Cosima. It was Not Cosima, with wet loose hair and a British accent. She'd said oi. The clones didn't say oi unless they were Sarah. Delphine twisted her head side to side and confirmed that, indeed, this was Not Cosima, and Not Another Clone, but Sarah. Then she laughed at her own cleverness and slipped on the pool floor. “Quoi?”

“I said, are you doing alright? You seem a bit, uh...” Sarah moved her hands in a way Delphine didn't understand, and when she tried to follow them, the world tipped sideways, but everything was funny again so it was okay.

“A bit?” Delphine dropped her knees and floated with her chin just above the water so the vapors went up her nose.

“Oh shit, did you eat one of those brownies Fe brought in?”

“Mmmm...” Brownies would be perfect right now. With some of that frosting they'd made for the cake today. However. “You know what I really want?” Still floating, she put a hand on Sarah's shoulder, which was damp and covered in little goosebumps, but curved in a way Cosima's didn't, in a way Delphine had never noticed before.

Sarah giggled and looked around everywhere except Delphine. “If you say more brownies, you're not getting any.”

“No. No no no.” Delphine now had both hands on Sarah's shoulders. “A döner kebab. With extra sheep’s cheese, and... and and and and...” The English and tripped over her tongue until it because a blur of “dudududududududu” and the only thing keeping her from slipping under the surface of the absinthe pool was Sarah's shoulders. Delphine dangled from her shoulders and bumped against Sarah's body, distracted by the scar behind Sarah's left ear.

“Okay, this won't work.” Sarah nudged her back up onto her feet and pried her hands away, but Delphine leaned in to point at the scar.

“I remember that. I stitched that.”

“Yes, you did. You were sober for that, thankfully. Come on, now, let's get you back up on this ledge before Cosima fuckin' murders me.”

“She won't. She loves you too much.”

Sarah's laugh had a strange tone to it then as she turned Delphine 180 degrees. “Not enough for all that. Come on, up you go. Outta the water.”

Now, though, the ledge of the pool was continents away, and despite soaking in absinthe, she still hadn't drunk any, so she cupped her hands and drank a few mouthfuls. “It doesn't taste like I remember it,” she told Sarah. “It tastes like... like grade school.”

“I... I don't even know what to say to that. Come on, sit up here.”

The ledge was rough, with pebbles and craters to dig into her skin, and it was moving, crumbling under her hands and sliding back and forth. Never mind the height. She couldn't possibly pull herself up there. “Non. Je ne peux pas.”

“That so?” Sarah turned and gestured into the distance. Her hair was wet, falling over her skin and leaving rivers of water that pulsed with her heartbeat. When she turned back to Delphine, she was smirking. Only then did Delphine have the fleeting thought – Sarah might not speak French.

“You have Cosima's eyes.”

And Sarah thought that was funny! She was laughing, so Delphine laughed along. “Do I really?” Sarah asked. “Isn't that something?”

A hand caressed the back of her neck, under her hair, and the pleasure was so strong she almost fell over.

“Hey, babe? You doing okay?”

Cosima's lips were the best of all the clones. They had so many different shapes and her bottom lip gave just the right amount of resistance between Delphine's teeth. When she tried to kiss her now, though, Cosima pulled away.

“You're feeling those brownies now, aren't you? Ho-ly shit.”

Sarah asked Cosima where she'd run off to, anyways, and Cosima said something about Puerto Rico and infertility and vaccines and uteruses, but she had the cutest little toes Delphine had ever seen, so Delphine didn't really catch most of what she said. She stroked each little Cosima toe individually, then ran her finger over the tops of all of Cosima's toes and kissed the top of her foot.

When she looked up, Cosima had that little sideways dimpled smile, and when she stroked Delphine's cheek, Delphine almost lost her legs again. “Let's get you out of the water, yeah?”

Delphine slid her hands up Cosima's calf and lost herself for a moment in the shape of her muscles. “Can I kiss you then?”

“You can kiss me all you want, just on dry land so no one drowns.”

A few moments and an eon later, she sat on the couch near one of the outdoor heaters, alone. The absinthe vapors flickered in the distance to the undulating beat of the music while the scarlet ibis flitted in and out of the water. Her heart beat to a different tempo, expanding until it filled her entire self, rubbing against the backs of her eyeballs and her nasal passages and worming its way into her pelvis and the soles of her feet. If she squinted, she saw her heart beat pushing out from her toenails. Then her heart contracted again, and her body shrank into itself, smaller and smaller until she imploded into her own navel like a Popple. Blood in, heart expansion, explosion. Blood away, heart contraction, Popple.

Repeat. And repeat.

“Drink this.”

She took the glass of water and drank it, gulping at first and then sipping to feel the drips and drizzles down her esophagus. Food stirred inside of her along with her blood and breath, food breaking down and turning into energy, each little molecule sucked into the lining of her stomach and intestines and moving along through her ever pumping blood stream to her brain, her liver, her muscles, her skin.

“We should do a study,” she told Cosima, “with brownies. To see how much of that brownie is in each skin cell.”

Cosima giggled. “Uh, somebody's probably already done that study.”

“We should do it again. For my skin cells, and those brownies over there.”

“You are not getting any more brownies.”

Music washed over her and burst in the air beside their heads. Like a blaze of light, ready to ignite, we are made of dynamite “We are,” Delphine said, nuzzling the side of Cosima's neck.

“No,” Cosima said. “No more brownies.”

Delphine didn't know what she was talking about now, but Cosima smelled like cloves and oranges and her skin was warm and soft. She ran her tongue over Cosima's neck to her throat to nip her chin. The texture change from Cosima's shorts to the skin of her waist distracted her, though, and she pulled back to watch her own hand move back and forth, from warm soft skin to cool crisp fabric.

“You're dry,” she remarked. “Why?”

“Um...” When Cosima laughed, her stomach quivered. “I, uh, I wasn't in the water like you were.”

“Why not?”

“Because I had to take a phone call.” She stroked Delphine's hair and the back of her neck so Delphine purred like a kitten. “I'll tell you about it tomorrow, when your sweet beautiful brain is working again.”

Tomorrow didn't exist yet, but Cosima's legs did. They were firm and silky smooth with subtle moving valleys of muscle conforming to Delphine's hands. Cosima gasped when Delphine moved her whole hand up the inside of Cosima's right thigh.

“Delphine? Babe? We're, um, we're in public. People can see us.”

Maybe they could, but all Delphine could see was the cute little hollow at the base of Cosima's neck, which was just the right size for her tongue, and the rise of her shoulder muscles from her clavicles. “So?” she whispered.

“So, I don't really want to do this in front of everyone and their sister.”

“You don't want to?” Cosima never said she didn't want to. Okay, maybe sometimes she did, but that usually coincided with Delphine's agreement. She pulled back to look at Cosima's face, and the world swam around again for a minute.

“Not right here. But...”

Cosima stood and led her by the hand to the room with all the games and the little kitchenette, grabbing a bottle of water along the way. They passed Scott and Helena playing a violent game of air hockey, and Helena laughed until she was bent over and banging on the table while Scott shouted something about cheating. Four empty, crumb-covered plates sat nearby. Helena's curls snaked and twisted around her head in time with the Hozier song playing softly on the speaker in the corner of the room.

“They're different songs,” Delphine remarked.

“What's that?” Cosima held her finger tips in hers, both of their arms extended as Cosima tried pulling Delphine along.

Delphine pointed outside and then to their current location. “There. And there. Different songs.”

Cosima's smile was sweet as she cocked her head and stepped over to her. “Yup. They sure are. Come on.” She hooked a finger into the waistband of Delphine's shorts and tugged a little.

Through the door beside the kitchenette was a storage room, filled with folded metal chairs, stacks of bar towels, extra game equipment, and pool toys. Off-white canvas bags were piled up in one corner, and Cosima pulled Delphine down beside her after flopping down herself. Delphine peeled off her bathing suit, rubbed her arm across the low-thread-count fabric, and smelled salt in the air. “Amatique Bay,” she said.

“Hm?”

Delphine positioned herself to hover naked above Cosima. “It's like Amatique Bay, remember? From Guatemala to Belize?”

“Oh, yeah, right. On Latin America's cheapest legal ferry during a tropical storm. We had more clothes on then. I'm surprised you're still smiling at that memory, even if you are high off your gourd.”

“I was with you.” And she bent down and her kissed her lips.

Cosima's mouth was everything. Sweet and salty, soft and firm, wet and giving all at once, and Delphine gave it all of herself. She pushed into it, into Cosima's body against the lumpy bags of laundry or whatever was in them, and she raked her fingernails up Cosima's torso, up under her bathing suit top to brush the soft undersides of her breasts. Cosima arched her back to let Delphine's hands behind her, but as much as she fumbled, Delphine failed at removing the garment separating her from Cosima's chest. She dropped her forehead onto the bag beside Cosima's head, and pouted.

“Having trouble? Here.” She wriggled out of the top and caressed Delphine's face, and Delphine's mouth went dry. Uncomfortably dry. “Here,” Cosima said again, and there was the bottle of water Delphine had forgotten all about.

Delphine drank a few mouthfuls and let the water molecules permeate the membranes inside her mouth and her throat, filling each cell to a plump ripeness, like grapes on the vine.

And speaking of plump, Cosima's nipples were right there! Delphine dropped her mouth onto Cosima's left breast and licked her nipple until it puckered up in her mouth. Only when Cosima laughed did she realize that she'd still had water in her mouth, which now covered half of Cosima's torso and part of the canvas bags they lay on.

“Oh. Sorry.” She tried to mop the water up with her hands, but her hands failed at being absorbent, and Cosima took her wrists to stop her.

“It's okay. A little wetness never hurt anybody, right?”

There was that cheeky smile, and Delphine giggled, too. “Right.” She dug her fingers into Cosima's hips and kissed her breast a few more times. “Touch me?”

Cosima didn't answer right away, but ran her hands over Delphine's back, shoulders, neck, and arms while Delphine nipped at the underside of Cosima's breast. “If you want me to touch more of you, you'll have to let me up.”

She would have, but mixed in with the Amatique Bay salt and canvas smell was Cosima's smell, and what she needed more than anything was Cosima. The little string on the front of Cosima's shorts came undone easily, and then Cosima was naked, too, on her back with her knees spread and her thighs framing Delphine's head.

And she knew this taste. She knew these textures, the tiny soft ridges and loose folds; she knew the flavor of Cosima's body when she was aroused, the heady mixture of vanilla and citrus, or sometimes it was sweeter like a freshly baked custard tart, and then sometimes, every good smell in the world made her think of Cosima.

From across the universe, Cosima whimpered. Each movement of Delphine's mouth elicited another little squeak, moan, or whine, and when she adjusted herself to put her fingers inside Cosima's body, she heard a low rumbly, “Oh, fuck.” Before long, Cosima's heels beat against the canvas bags she rested on, and her cries echoed in the little storage room.

“Stop,” she said, her voice shaky, “that's enough, no more.”

So she stopped, and pushed herself on shaking legs to lay beside her. The scent in the air was thick now, so Delphine swam in it as Cosima flopped her arm over her waist. When Cosima twitched against her, hips spasming in tiny recursive orgasms, Delphine laughed. “You can swim with me,” she said into Cosima's hair.

“One day. When you're sober.”

Delphine's leg found its way around Cosima's, and the pressure and heat between both of them yanked her heart down into her groin. “We can swim right now. You can swim inside of me, if you want to.”

“Hmmm... You've taken all my energy, though.”

Cosima's hand slithered down her side, though, to cup her right ass cheek, and Delphine wiggled herself against it. “I can give you more energy if you need it.”

She smiled against Delphine's neck. “Oh, really? You gonna spit more water on me?”

“No.” In reality, it didn't matter how much energy Cosima had, so long as she was awake. Delphine took Cosima's hand from her ass and tucked it in between her legs, fingers in just the right places. The simple presence of her hand there nearly pushed her over the edge, but Cosima pulled away. “No!” Delphine cried.

Cosima kissed her lips, then her chin. “Shh, it's okay. It's just easier if I'm on top right now. I can use my body weight that way. Don't worry, you'll get there.”

Still, Delphine grabbed at Cosima's skin as she moved herself to Delphine's other side. “Come here. Just come here.”

“I'm here, gorgeous, don't worry.”

And then Cosima's fingers were inside her and her mouth was on Delphine's breast, and her body opened like a ripe peeled plum. She pushed herself against Cosima's hand and body and dug into her scalp and the back of her neck and the room sucked into her before exploding in countless points of light and sound and taste and sensation blended together in every speck of her being, forever.

*

*

*

Otters swam with dolphins all around her. One of them whispered in her ear, “I'm pretty sure everybody heard that.”

She would have laughed if she had the energy. A talking otter, with breath like a fresh clementine. Instead, she just smiled.

Soft lips brushed her shoulder. “Are you gonna fall asleep here?”

“Hm?”

“I asked if you're gonna fall asleep here. It's not exactly comfortable for me, but I'm not baked like you are.”

“Am I baked?” Images of bread and cookies floated around with the otters, who themselves turned into dinner rolls with eyes. It wasn't entirely pleasant.

Another giggle. “You are super baked, my love. You probably don't even know where you are right now.”

Nonsense. “I'm in space,” she said. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Another kiss. “It's pretty cold in space, though. And you're not allowed to go outside naked.”

Come to think of it, it was a little chilly here. She moved her head from side to side, and the dinner roll otters vanished. In their place was a cluster of pool noodles watching her with disapproving expressions. “Mais putain, allez tous vous faire foutre,” she told them, and raised her middle finger.

“Hey, I didn't make the rules.” Cosima stood and stretched, her strong little body marked with red lines.

Delphine watched her put her bathing suit back on and retie her hair. Then Cosima opened the door and leaned halfway out. She said something, called out to someone out there, but her words were drowned out by the judgmental chatter of the pool noodles. “Écoutez,” she told them, rising off her seat to point at them. “Je m'en fous!”

“Hey, babe?” Cosima touched the small of her back and steered her away. She had a bag on her hand. “We're gonna get you dressed, okay? Then we're gonna get you back home and in bed. Can you help me with that?”

“Mmm. Okay.”

She didn't remember getting dressed, but there were lights flashing outside the car window and Cosima's hand held hers. When the door opened, she almost fell out.

“It's red,” she said.

“Yup,” Cosima said. “Alison's van's been red the whole time. Come on, up inside now.”

Alison said something, and then Delphine was in bed, a heavy comforter weighing on her, and Cosima kissed her temple. ��Goodnight, beautiful. I hope your dreams aren't too fucked up.”

[pieceofmindguns]

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[kuriquinn]

Telanadas [15/19]

Cover Page & Disclaimer:

first chapter

Author's Note: Shamelessly changed the trial here, because moving a bunch of people around to find the magic pattern to make the bridge would just be boring. This was more fun for me (and hopefully you!)

When Sasuke returns to himself, he is surprised to find Kakashi standing over him. More astonishing, when the older man offers him his hand, Sasuke accepts it, allowing him to drag him to his feet.

“This is the only aid I can offer now,” Kakashi explains tiredly. “I have hit my limit, it seems.”

Sasuke’s eyes travel across the room, carefully ignoring the familiar corpses on the floor, seeking Sakura. Though he knows the facsimile he killed was not her, he discovers a childish need to make sure she is all right.

She is, albeit in a harried condition. Naruto is bleeding from an arm that has been hacked to pieces by a rogue’s switchblade. She is digging frantically through her healing kit to help him while he tries to hold his wounds closed. The human has had worse injuries, but Sasuke suspects her guilt over killing Naruto’s double has her on edge. She will help him now or die trying.

“I hope there are no more challenges like this,” Kakashi goes on. “Responsibility for the demise of a loved one, even given the pretence of this…it is an experience that should be avoided if possible.”

There is a meaningful undertone there that seems like it’s directed at him. Kakashi may not know the details of Sasuke’s past, but it is clear he has suspicions.

Sasuke doesn’t reply, instead pulling away from the mage and heading for the giant door of the chamber. It should be open now, but it remains stubbornly warded, forbidding blue energy radiating from it.

“I don’t get it,” Naruto wonders through gritted teeth as Sakura stitches the wound on his right arm together. “Why didn’t it open? We defeated…uh…us.”

“Once I finish here, we’ll spread out,” Sakura says, eyes focussed on her work. “There might be something that our…that those clones were guarding, or perhaps dropped.”

“I will start looking,” Kakashi volunteers, clearly intending to spare them the experience of looting the corpses of friends.

Everyone is avoiding each other’s eyes, but still trying to work together. In time, perhaps the skittishness will fade. This experience will seem like a momentary dark spot, something faced and overcome. It might fuel nightmares for a few nights or offer an image that comes back to them in moments of reflection to make them shudder. But all three of them can go on knowing what they did was a matter in which they had no choice. Deeds that were more symbolism than anything else.

But to Sasuke, this trial is a reminder.

Of how easy it was for him to return to that state of mind. Of what he needs to do if he intends to return to his path and find Itachi.

This is what he must become once more.

Sakura’s twin still gazes up at him in sad, silent accusation, and his throat closes again.

It is as if a switch inside of him clicks.

I will find another way, brother, Sasuke decides with a harsh certainty. I will not become this again to carry out what is right. I will find another path, my own way. I will not follow in your footsteps.

There is a loud creaking grind of stone on stone, and the door that barred them from moving forward slides open.

“Huh,” Naruto says, staring at it. “I guess it needed a minute to kick in.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Sakura says. “Spells or not, I doubt anyone has ever been far enough in this way. The mechanisms are rusty.”

“It iss as good an explanation as any,” Kakashi says, but he sounds like he doubts it.

Not wanting to give him a chance to analyse the situation further, Sasuke gets up and heads into the next section of the temple. He hears the others scrambling after him, perhaps fearing the door might close again before they can.

This place is larger than the other rooms, if only because of the giant, gaping chasm that makes up the most of it. Twenty yards away, and with no bridge in sight, he can see the next door.

“Maybe it’s an invisible bridge,” Naruto suggests.

“If you want to try that out, be my guest,” Sasuke mumbles.

Naruto begins to reply, but his response gets lost in his throat. When Sasuke turns to find out what has distracted him, he discovers he cannot move.

“I imagine there is a puzzle or test we have to complete to make the bridge appear,” Kakashi muses, striding past him without noticing. “What do you think, Sakura?” The only response he gets is a muffled, strangled squeak. Out of the corner of his eye, Sasuke sees that she, too, has been rendered paralysed. “Sakura?”

The mage turns now and sees the three members of his party immobilised.

“Ah. So, I am the one to be tested this time,” the mage mumbles. “Do your worst, then.”

“Do you really mean that?”

The voice is Naruto’s, but not.

When Sasuke strains to look, he finds the human has turned to face Kakashi now, but his eyes are blank.

“Or do you say it because they expect you to?” he continues. “You have always been so careful of keeping up appearances. It is exhausting. And you so hate effort. You have always been one to evade the hard decisions,” ‘Naruto’ intones drowsily. “Avoiding attention, refusing to get involved. Battling darkspawn was a convenient excuse to escape the Circle and following this motley crew protects you from Templars…you hope.”

Kakashi frowns.

“So, I wonder…why bother with this silly quest? It is so much effort…wasted in the end, really. You fight for a world that does not want you. You would be safer and more content if you let it pass you by.”

“That is debateable.”

“I will offer you an alternative: return the way you came. I will open the doors and you can escape this place. Find somewhere safe and warm. Settle down.”

“And what would happen to my companions?”

“They would stay here. I will offer them peaceful sleep—blissful dreams until their skin and bones fade to dust. A moment in time for them, instead of a long-drawn-out death in search of something which may not exist.”

Kakashi shakes his head. “No. None of them would thank me for doing them that favour. Naruto would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat if it meant one of us carrying the cure to Arl Hiruzen…”

“Would he?” the being inquires and then takes a step toward the chasm.

Sakura makes a panicked noise in her throat, unable to speak, and Kakashi steps forward as well. “Stop! He is not the one you intend to test, I am. I will take his place if a life is what is required. And it would suit you better, would it not? Demons such as yourself prefer mages anyhow.”

Naruto’s chuckle is dry and dozy. “So, you know what I am. Well. Why should I argue when a mage offers himself so willingly?

There is a sound like wind rushing and Naruto’s eyes become less hazy. He remains frozen in place but is now aware enough to watch Kakashi’s eyes go blank as the demon takes possession.

Sasuke mentally curses, damning the mage for putting them all at risk by allowing a demon to enter his body, but then he sees Kakashi’s body tense. He staggers, then takes a laborious step forward, heading for the edge of the chasm.

He is going to throw himself off, Sasuke realises. Sakura and Naruto make noises as if they were screaming if their mouths could unclench.

To their horror, Kakashi takes the last step into the abyss—

Only for his foot to come down on solid stone as a giant column materialises before him. Kakashi’s body relaxes, loose like an unwound puppet, and a voice whispers in the dark.

“In sacrifice, you have defeated Sloth and found Valour. Carry it with you always when cowardice and complacence would reign.”

And then silence permeates the cavern once more.

Kakashi takes a laborious breath and glances back at them where they are frozen.

“Do not worry,” he says. “I understand what this is. I faced something similar in my Harrowing.”

“Yes, but this time it’s not your own life on the line, is it, mage?” Sasuke sneers, momentarily startled that he can speak again.

Except it is not his voice.

It is lower and sharper, filled with a simmering fury that appears to suffuse every part of him. Literally. He is burning hot. He can see the surrounding air vibrating as if he stands within a pyre.

“That’s the way it always is, though,” he continues, or rather, the thing using his mouth does. “Stand in the background, the one that causes the pain and misery and destruction, and then act like a victim when it’s done.”

“Ah, this would be Rage, then?” Kakashi wonders, a vein near his temple twitching.

“You know it well, don’t you?” the raging force within Sasuke says. “It boils inside you whenever anyone like this one opens his mouth. When they speak of the sins of your kind, the truths. Because deep down, you know it's true.”

There is a poisonous certainty in his words that makes Sasuke’s blood boil, each syllable making his heartrate increase. He longs to move so he could grab his bow, wants to lash out.

“I do not, because it is not,” Kakashi says. “And whatever people distrust about mages, I believe they can learn anew.”

“But why would they bother taking such a risk? The moment they’re free, mages’ll make themselves magisters. They face demons and accept their offers, killing children to show off at parties. They should all be made tranquil slaves, sent to towers to be beaten and starved and r—”

“Enough!” Kakashi barks, and though his eyes spark, his tone remains measured. “You believe his anger is something to latch on to? I bid you, direct it at me and see how you fare.”

“Gladly,” the demon snarls, and something punches out of Sasuke, the violent heat vanishing as quickly as it came. He suspects his knees might give out if whatever magical force keeps him standing were not in place.

The demon enters Kakashi, who screams in pain and something else. Veins radiate outward from his eyes, and cracks seem to burst out beneath his skin, as if light were trying to push its way through. His eyes burn a bright, scarlet red.

“I will not…punish others…for their fears,” he grunts. “Otherwise…I become what they think…I am!” He throws himself back, away from his immobilised companions, clutching at his head as he battles the demon there. “And you forget…demon. I am not…in here…with you. You…are in here…with me!”

He falls forward on all fours, red tongues of flame exuding from his body, and then with a final scream, the surrounding air explodes into light. Another section of the path forms before him as he does so.

Once more, the ethereal voice whispers in the dark.

“You have overcome Rage, and in doing so, discovered the path to Justice. Do not lose sight of the enemy or you will become it.”

“Two down,” Kakashi pants, pulling himself to his feet and once more facing his companions. His attention falls on Sakura. “And what is it you would try to offer, demon?”

“Nothing you don’t want more than anything,” Sakura replies, but in a lower, breathier voice than Sasuke has ever heard. It makes his mouth go dry and his palms sweat even though the sheer unnaturalness of it sends a chill up his spine. It eradicates any of the leftover fire within him. “What every mage secretly wants, more than any bit of power.”

“And that is?”

“Not to be alone,” the creature wearing Sakura’s face purrs. “And that is something easily rectified.”

Kakashi seems to recoil. “If that is what you offer, you have gravely misread the situation.”

“Oh, come now, Kakashi-sensei,” ‘Sakura’ hums. “We both know who you see whenever you look at me. I make you remember…make you wish…” She trails off with a coy giggle here. “I can give her to you, you know. Or…I can be her.” She licks her lips. “Let me give you what you seek, Kakashi-sensei. What you long for.”

Sasuke’s eyes fly toward Kakashi, expecting to see his usual impassive expression, or casual denial.

But for a moment, there is a flicker in his eyes. As if he is—briefly—considering the ramifications.

It is gone just as quick, so fast Sasuke is sure he imagined it, and then Kakashi takes a step forward.

“There are others who need what you offer more than I,” Kakashi says stiffly. “The woman you speak of, she held the heart of a man who, without her, would be more lost and dangerous than anything imaginable. More than that, he would be broken. I could not live knowing I had done that to my best friend.” He pauses, eyes flitting to Sasuke as if his next words meant for him, and goes on, “I will not take from others only to benefit myself. And neither would the one you inhabit. She makes a poor host, I think.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” the demon runs her hands down Sakura’s body, and brushing against the curves hidden by armour. “There’s so much yearning stewing here. It would keep me entertained for years.”

“Then just imagine what a longing that can never be requited might offer you,” Kakashi suggests. “It would prove a more enticing challenge, do you not agree?”

“Oh, you’re amusing. I shall enjoy playing with your mind,” the demon murmurs. She gives a low, uncharacteristic giggle, and then Sakura’s entire body jolts, as if she was hit by electricity.

The purple haze surrounding her rushes at Kakashi, who shudders as it enters his body. He remains still for the longest time, head and shoulders thrown back as if he is being hung by his rib cage, and then he crumples to his feet again.

“The thing is…” Kakashi mumbles. “I…made my peace with this…a long time ago…In case I forgot to…mention…”

His body emits yet another burst of light and goes still.

“In the face of Desire and what she might offer, you cling to Compassion. Guard this in times of pain and hardship.”

The third part of the path materialises, and in the same moment, Sasuke senses his invisible bonds sever. He, Naruto and Sakura stagger, suddenly expected to hold up their weight.

“What the hell was that?” Naruto demands, shaking out his arms and legs.

“Demons,” Sasuke growls, his voice raw. “Spirits meant to test the mage.”

“Ugh, I feel so violated. And my throat tastes like I drank a vat of molasses or…animal fat. What about you, Sakura? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she says—rather abruptly, too, and in a higher voice than normal. “What about Sasuke? I mean, he was on fire.”

“Yeah, but he’s always so angry anyway, it was hard to even tell…”

Sasuke studies her, confused at her behaviour and wondering if the change is a remnant of the demon which had her. But when he catches her eye, she turns pink and looks away.

Embarrassment, he realises, though he does not understand why. They were each of them possessed, and yet they are fine, barring a few lingering side-effects. Sasuke still feels like he has sustained burns inside his skin from the Rage demon. And Sakura, she was possessed by a Desire demon, so it would stand to reason she might feel a little—

The penny drops.

Oh.

“So that’s it?” Naruto is asking, wandering toward the edge of the bridge; the others follow, with Sakura maintaining a conspicuous distance for Sasuke and refusing to look Kakashi in the eye. “What a cheat! Those demons took us over and didn’t even finish the damn bridge when they left!”

“This distance isn’t much,” Sakura observes. “You could cross easily, Kakashi. Or build a bridge of ice.” She peeks at him, looking guilty and apologetic, but he offers a small shake of the head; she had no control over the words spoken by the demon. “Perhaps even conjure a blast of magic to send one of us over?”

Kakashi turns his attention back to the bridge.

“I could,” he muses. Then he blinks, and a slow smile appears on his face, “but I will not.”

“Huh? How come?” Naruto asks.

“Because of the cost if I were to fail and lose one of you.”

“That is an unusual remark for someone usually so confident in their skills,” Sasuke points out.

“Perhaps. But I think it better to retrace our steps and see what we can do together rather than sacrifice what has already been gained on the overestimation of my abilities.”

He has barely finished the sentence when there is a thunderous crack, and the final part of the path locks into place.

“Many a man falls prey to Pride, but only one who knows Wisdom can defeat it.”

“Are you kidding?” Naruto demands. “That was the last test?”

“Mages are notorious for their pride,” Kakashi explains. “Most who succumb to demons and become abominations? It is Pride which fells them. I learned this the hard way when I was young. I pity myself the day I fall for it again.”

He considers them each, and he might be smiling at them beneath his mask. Sasuke shifts, a strange, not-quiet comfortable sensation welling within him; he hesitates to call it relief.

“Come on,” he says out loud instead. “Let us cross the rest of this damn thing before it disappears again.”

“And get ready,” Sakura agrees as they head for the door, “because there’s one test left. And I think we know who it’s for.”

“Aw, damn it…” Naruto complains.

Translation:

Harrowing – Ritual which mages undergo in the Fade to ensure they can control their magic; those who can’t are executed by the Templars

Comments and concrit are much appreciated, and very motivating! For information about supporting my original, non-fandom related works, you’re welcome to check out my ko-fi tip jar, or my patreon page. 

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Next Chapter

[tezsaltblogsrhpc]

Seventeenth Bottle of Mike’s (Part 1): More Nemesia Nonsense and That Sidequest (TM)

That sure was a thing that happened last quest and I am absolutely not recovered.

You know what is, in some ways, the most pettily disappointing thing about that quest? They didn't even use boss fights that would actually be interesting with a Stocke/Eruca party. Admittedly, this is partially because the siblings, ironically, don't have great gameplay synergy; Stocke's good at a lot of things, but the things Eruca needs most from the rest of the group- DEF and MAG buffs and combo builders- fall squarely into holes in his skillset. The best they can do for each other is that he can heal and res her and has Air Assault, and she has Power Rise.

Things Eruca is good at: burst magic damage, magic AOE, taking extremely low damage from magic. Fights against single opponents that exclusively deal phys damage absolutely do not play to her strengths; at best, she throws some buffs out and then sits there casting G-Frost while Stocke stabs the enemy/lights them on fire. The Lizard Rider fight would have been a much better idea to clone, especially if some of its backup were changed to casters: give Eruca a big field full of enemies and let Stocke stand back and go, "Kick their asses, sis, I got your flower."

"Thank you for being punctual," Nemesia says when I talk to her for the next quest. Asshole, you do nothing but stand on the deck of your ship in one place at all times, how do you even measure "punctual"? (Also, you know, nonsensical thing to say when he just finished a quest and is asking about the next one.)

Sips++

"I've tracked the artifact to the dead center of the battlefield between Cygnus and Granorg." If we have to fight Palomides again I am going to sigh deeply.

"A place like that will make it difficult to locate the artifact, no doubt." It will be in the spot you fought Palomides and either Dias or Palomides will have it.

Sips++

"True. There's no telling how it will manifest itself." Remember, these are DEFINITELY relics made by the Empire and definitely not in any way the shattered fragments of a terrible elder god straining against their prisons to take shape once more.

Nyarlamesia: 26

"Easy for you to say. You get to stay here on this fancy boat." Wow, for once it's actually calling out the fact that Nemesia does exactly squat!

"(It's possible the Artifact is keeping the whirlwind at bay in this world, though. This is bad.)" Sooo, great, they can control the weather now.

Nyarlamesia: 27

...Why did it put Gafka in as my other party member?

Oh, right, I've got a support skill for Eruca from that last quest. It apparently removes Baroque from the party at the end of a combo, which is... I guess theoretically an interesting idea, but at least the way I play and construct combos, I almost never have anybody red at the end of a combo. I swap turns to get everybody's turns together so they can all act at once; I don't have one person swap and another person act unless it's, like, to heal.

Garland tells us to defend the north, where there are... no enemy troops. The entire field is empty. (I also can't help but wonder if you could find Garland's armlet here if that quest was active.)

Sips++

Apparently to make up for the fact that the ~prism~ didn't react at ALL during the last quest, we're now seeing a prism reaction in a scene happening halfway across Itolia where Stocke is not present.

Sips++

are Garland and Dias ever going to actually fight or are they just going to stand there trash-talking each other until Stocke gets back

*groans, buries face in hands* I knew it. Of course they're going to make me fight Palomides YET AGAIN. HE'S NOT THAT INTERESTING, PC. THIS IS NOT LIKE THE OROCHI BATTLE IN OKAMI WHERE IT'S AWESOME EVERY TIME IT HAPPENS.

Sips++++

Despite me having brought a terrible party for this, the fight is only difficult because of my stubborn insistence on trying to rob bosses in case they're carrying anything interesting. They are not.

"Hrk... These rats have fangs…" Why is PC so in love with the rat metaphor from the prologue.

Sips++

"Even with his last breath, he still wouldn't shut up…" Okay, that line gets a point.

Changes I Don’t Hate: 153

Seriously, though, what the hell is it with PC and invalidating tactical decisions from the original plot? This is the third Nemesia quest now that at least partially boils down to, "You know that situation the gang had to work around in the main plot? Here it is again, except you just kill your way through the problem!" Because brute force is the most interesting solution to everything, right?

Sips++

Garland: "First things first, we need to patch up our wounded warriors." Eruca: "Allow me to assist!"

Because why would we want any of the actual healers in the party on that job, oh no. They couldn't be bothered to put anyone but Stocke and Eruca on the screen, so Eruca takes the job even though Stocke is the one who actually has much more relevant skill in that area. I’m sure I can’t imagine why the writers would have her do that. It’s because she’s a girl.

Sips++

"Red Pinwheel." I'm now retroactively imagining Dias furiously blowing on a plastic children's toy through this entire event.

""Wasting Away" has been added to the White Chronicle." .....?????? No one in this quest was wasti-

oh no.

That's a painful attempt at a pun, isn't it.

Sips++

"Howling Spear: ATK +40/SPD +8/Cannot be sold" Hey, uh, PC, you are aware you have not labeled the dozens of other pieces of equipment that can't be sold before this one, right?

Oops: 58

Anyway, this might have been a useful reward if I'd done SH6 before returning to AH and hitting the dead end (Rosch does have some significant weapon problems when you first get back after getting the Beast Mark), but, uh. It isn't now. They really should have moved this earlier, because surprise! When you give players multiple options for how to proceed, they will do things in different orders!

Sips++

...Ugh, this leaves me halfway through a post and the next thing I have to do is AJE. Guess the shipping rant is getting shoved off into its own post tomorrow for reasons of word count.

So, just to start out with: I deliberately did not trip all the AJE flags, just to see if PC had put in any hint at all that the quest was there (like a quest marker over Marco's head, but if you talk to him he says, "It's nothing, never mind"), which is one of the most objective problems with the quest: it's nigh-impossible to find without a guide. They did not.

Original: "O-Oh! It's nothing! I was just thinking…" PC: "O-Oh! It's nothing! I was just thinking about some stuff…" ᏇᏂᏗᏖ ᏇᏗᏕ ᏖᏂᏋ ᎮᎧᎥᏁᏖ ᎧᎦ ᏖᏂᎥᏕ?

Why was this changed? 326

Sips++

Original: "Raynie? I hadn't noticed anything strange about her…" PC: "Why do you say that?" Both of these are pretty nonsensical if you talk to Raynie with the quest flags set before talking to Marco, but I prefer the one that leaves more room for offscreen interactions.

Why was this changed? 327

Sips++

"I can't really describe it... but she's missing that... sharpness, that energy." I'm so sorry you only just noticed you're in PC, Marc.

Sips++

Original: "Can you lend a listening ear for her? I want you to make Raynie feel better." PC: "Hey... Could you lend her an ear for a bit? I think you could help her feel better."

Changes I Don’t Hate: 154

As usual, sprites are moved several pixels closer to each other because no one in PC believes in personal space.

Original: "Wh-What's the matter, Stocke?" PC: "Stocke!?" I prefer the unsuccessful attempt to pretend she isn't stressed out.

Why was this changed? 328

Sips++

Original: "Is something troubling you?" PC: "Is something wrong, Raynie?" I'm surprised they changed this- the original is the sort of formal, fancy language PC writes almost all of Stocke's dialogue in.

Original: "Why would you say that all of a sudden?" PC: "What are you saying that for?" 127 150 141 164 40 167 141 163 40 164 150 145 40 160 157 151 156 164 40 157 146 40 164 150 151 163 77

Why was this changed? 329

Sips++

Original: "I'm just saying that I'm here if you need to talk." PC: "I heard you were feeling down, and I wanted to let you know I'm here if you need to talk." Because players are morons and need everything spelled out.

Why was this changed? 330

Sips++

Original: "...All right. Let's talk." PC: "...All right. I'll tell you what's on my mind." LXXXVII CIV XCVII CXVI XXXII CXIX XCVII CXV XXXII CXVI CIV CI XXXII CXII CXI CV CX CXVI XXXII CXI CII XXXII CXVI CIV CV CXV LXIII

Why was this changed? 331

Sips++

If it wasn't obvious yet, this quest seems to have been rewritten at levels we haven't seen since the start of the game. I wish I could say I was hopeful this boded well for any of its many problems being fixed.

Original: "I know this guy, okay? He's a real strange one." PC: "So I know this guy, right? He's super weird." Uh. I mean, he is, but that's, uh. Certainly a choice of phrasing to describe a guy you are talking to who you have a huge embarrassing crush on and may realize you’re talking about him any second.

Why was this changed? 332

Sips++++

Original: "He never speaks up for himself, so I never know what's on his mind." PC: "He never speaks up, so it's hard to know what's on his mind." YYYI EIU RWX XQZLI WN KFXL

Why was this changed? 333

Sips++

Original: "And he tends to jump straight into certain death all on his own, without letting us know." PC: "And he tends to put himself in dangerous situations without letting us know beforehand." PC heard me complaining about it making the dialogue more boring and decided to outdo itself.

Why was this changed? 334

Sips++

Original: "He's tough enough, and he tells us not to worry... But I can't help myself. I can't stop worrying anyway." PC: "I know he's strong... But I can't help but worry." They really are murdering this dialogue, aren't they.

Why was this changed? 335

Sips++

Original: "Hmm... He sounds like he'd be hard to handle, all right. But he must have a reason for acting the way he does. Maybe you should take that into account before worrying." PC: "Sounds like he'd be difficult to handle. He must have a reason for acting how he does, though. Maybe you should consider that before you start worrying." 87 104 97 116 32 119 97 115 32 116 104 101 32 112 111 105 110 116 32 111 102 32 116 104 105 115 63

Why was this changed? 336

Sips++

Original: "Oh, I do! But... this guy... He'd never tell me anything..." PC: "I try! But... he never tells me anything…" I almost want to give them a point for "I try!", but that tense shift was not a good idea. It's not just that she doesn't know why Stocke does the things he does, it's that she doesn't feel like she’d get an answer if she brought it up directly at all (hence: this entire conversation about "a guy I know").

Original: "Don't be. You really love him, don't you...?" PC: "Don't be. This guy must be really important to you." .....................… Woooooow, PC. We all complain about this quest and Obligatory Het, but that is absolutely not the way to fix it.

Why was this changed? 337

Chug++

Original: "Love... Yeah, you might be right. Could be I've been fooling myself. I guess that won't work, will it? I admit it, Stocke. I love you." PC: "I... Yeah, you're right. Could be I've been fooling myself all along. Stocke, I love you." ᘺᕼᗩᖶ ᘺᗩS ᖶᕼᘿ ᕵᓍᓰᘉᖶ ᓍᖴ ᖶᕼᓰS?

Why was this changed? 338

Sips++

Yep. You heard it right here, folks. Through the power of bad, overliteral translations, they managed to make AJE more abrupt, make even less sense, and removed what I consider one of its major redeeming features (which is that I find it adorable that Stocke can identify "in love" perfectly well, but can't tell that Raynie is very obviously talking about him).

And I'm not even halfway through it yet.

...You know what? If I have to suffer, so do you. TO BE CONTINUED.

Tally:

Why was this changed? 338

Changes I Don’t Hate: 154

Poor choice of expressions/voice clips/sound effects: 84

Oops: 58

How Do I Art: 54

Annoying Sound Effects: 37

Nyarlamesia: 27

Handy-dandy gameplay changes: 26

Great budget priorities: 14

FUCK YOU AND THE HELL SPIDER YOU RODE IN ON: 14

Let Stocke Say Ass: 12

The monkey's paw is flipping me off: 12

Save Me From Fanservice: 7

[blouisparadise]

We received a request for bottom Louis/top Harry fics that are told from Harry’s POV, so here you go. There was a long list, so we’ve split it into two parts. This is the first part and the second will be posted in a few weeks. Happy reading!

1) Louder Louder | Explicit | 2931 words

There's really only one way to get Louis out of a mood this terrible, and Harry is prepared to sacrifice his entire evening if necessary.

2) Handprints And Good Grips | Explicit | 3330 words

Harry wants to pull them down and suck him off. Harry wants to never take them off and eat him out over the lace. Harry wants to push them aside and fuck the imprint right into Louis’ body.

3) Feel The Need | Explicit | 4898 words

Louis and Harry attend Liam's Halloween party. Risky Business ensues.

4) Power Inside | Explicit | 5861 words

Louis wrinkles his nose and pokes Harry again. “You want a baby,” he repeats.

Again, Harry frowns. “Uh, yeah, Lou, I want a baby. So do you.”

Where is this even going. Harry honestly has no clue.

Abruptly, Louis stops frowning and practically throws himself off of Harry, splaying himself out on his side of the bed, arms spread wide. “Okay. Let’s make a baby, then.”

Can eyebrows get permanently attached to a hairline? Harry has a feeling he’s going to find out. “You do realize - ” he starts.

“Yes, Harry, I realize,” Louis says, stroking his fingers over the inside of his own thigh, ruking his shorts up. “You gonna shut up about it and give me a baby or am I gonna have to go out and find someone else to fulfill my deepest desires?”

He’s a nutjob. He’s a complete nutjob. Harry’s in love with a complete nutjob.

5) Throw Me In The Deep End | Explicit | 5914 words

He’s a respectable captain who doesn’t go around bedding his crew, although when certain members of his crew decide to land on his bed themselves, it’s a bit of a tough  choice. So it’s a struggle, really.

6) Back Where I Belong | Explicit | 7217 words

Harry’s trying to have a conversation with Nick, who he hasn’t seen in nearly three months, but the way Nick’s eyes keep darting over his shoulder every few seconds is quite distracting.

It’s ironic, because at least a quarter of the reason that he’s even talking to Nick in the first place is because he needs a distraction. He’s all too aware of exactly what’s going on behind his back.

Nick is the one who finally brings it up. “Do you think he’s doing it to spite you?”

“He’s definitely doing it to spite me,” Harry answers tightly, resisting the urge to crane his neck around so he can see. He clutches his drink a little tighter, trying to keep his tenuous control over his own movements.

7) Forever, Uninterrupted | Explicit | 8578 words

Harry finds a mysterious picture in Louis' bag one night and drives himself crazy over it. It's definitely not what he thinks.

An excuse to write Harry in rut, because there's already so many heat fics out there.

8) Spice Up Your Life | Explicit | 9501 words

After a conversation with his Uni friends, Harry worries that his relationship with Louis has lost it's spark.

9) Give Me Things To Stay Awake | Explicit | 10261 words

It's been a year since Louis broke up with Harry.

10) You Are My Favorite Place | Explicit | 10347 words

It had gutted Harry when he saw the headlines splashed across the gossip rags, the ones proclaiming the house he planned to make their home in LA was a bachelor pad. With both of them doing more producing and writing, Harry knew that they would need a place here so they wouldn't have to travel so much. As soon as he'd seen it and how remote it was, he knew it would be perfect.

It was so much more than some stupid bachelor pad.

Shaking his head, Harry glanced over at Louis. He was smiling, the one that Harry loved the most. His eyes were crinkled and his mouth was stretched wide; he looked so pleased that Harry had to lean over and kiss his temple. “So what do you think?” he asked, pressing the words against Louis's cheekbone. He pulled away to usher him into the house and they dropped their bags in the expansive entryway.

Harry had changed a bit of the decorating since the last time Louis had been there, making it more like the house the two of them shared in London. This one was more open, with more windows and more space for them to be themselves. No interruptions, no looking over their shoulders, just the two of them to break in all the new furniture.

He couldn't wait.

11) And So Far So Good | Explicit | 11707 words

It's been a year since Louis got hurt.

12) In A World Apart | Explicit | 11973 words

During their off time in LA, Harry is reminded just how much he loves Louis.

13) Doesn’t Have To Be A Real Thing | Explicit | 12532 words

In which Harry helps Louis get over his ex and it kind of becomes a regular thing. It’s totally casual – they have an understanding. But what happens to Harry when Nick reappears in Louis’ life?

14) No Bleeding Hearts | Explicit | 12651 words

“I’m going to come out,” Louis says abruptly. His grip on the controller is tight, knuckles whitening. He doesn’t look at Harry when he says it.

“What?” Harry says. Louis sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“When we re-negotiate our contracts. I’m going to come out.” Harry fumbles with the controller and manages to set it down on coffee table without cracking it in half.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Harry says. Louis is still pointedly not looking at him.

“I’m not having this argument with you again, Harry,” Louis tells him. He leans forward and deposits his own controller on the table beside Harry’s before standing up. “I’m gonna go to the hotel.”

15) Keep Holding Me This Way | Explicit | 13747 words

An English grad student, a frat jock, and an unimpressed rich boy walk into a bar. No one walks out.

16) Undertow | Explicit | 15507 words

As if Harry's world wasn't already on the brink of change, a twist of fate turns the man he once photographed in the streets of Paris and never forgot from faint memory, to a one night stand, to even more.

He wishes he could say he fought harder not to be pulled into the undertow, but he really, really didn't.

17) Know You Got That Thing (That I Like) | Explicit | 15798 words

In all the ways he thought about their reunion going, watching Louis finger himself open was not on the list.

18) These Roads We Stumble Down | Explicit | 18233 words

Harry picks up a hitchhiker in Oxford, and it's a long ride to Glasgow.

19) Break Open The Sky | Explicit | 20372 words

Harry might be a werewolf, but he still wants to experience Uni like everyone else. Turns out he learns a lot.

20) Smaller Than Me | Explicit | 22935 words

Harry's just finished his first year of uni on his way to becoming Dr. Harry Styles, Neurosurgeon. He's young, he has endless potential, three amazing best mates, a new love and the world at his fingertips. The fact that his new boyfriend may or may not be a sex-worker, of course, throws a wrench into the works. But it's not true. Really.

Probably.

It most definitely might not be entirely true. And that's all Harry needs to know.

21) Another Day Gettin’ Into Trouble | Explicit | 25619 words

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

22) Sort Your Head And Facedown | Explicit | 26426 words

Harry gets sent to an alternate universe where most everything is the same and most everything has changed.

23) Up To No Good | Explicit | 26525 words | Sequel 1 | Sequel 2

Harry doesn’t think of himself as a womanizer, not at all. Sure, he enjoys sex, enjoys how women feel underneath him, and by some people’s standards he has sex with quite a lot of people, but that’s no reason to tell him that he can’t have a female PA anymore.

It’s especially no excuse for giving him a male PA who’s possibly the most gorgeous boy in the world who won’t even let Harry look at him for too long.

Sometimes Harry hates his life.

24) Mine Now | Explicit | 32254 words

This is the story of how Harry finds himself pouting in Louis’ passenger seat with a raging boner on the way to seduce his ex boyfriend.

25) All The Right Moves | Explicit | 32264 words

This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

It’s seriously obnoxious.

26) Not Quite | Explicit | 34162 words

As Harry prepares for the premiere of his first blockbuster film, his manager encourages him to hire a bodyguard as a precautionary measure. Harry ends up making an unusual choice.

27) Runner On Third | Explicit | 39639 words

The AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don't pick up where they left off.

28) Ever Fixed | Mature | 41521 words

Three years ago, Harry was happily married, successfully heading the largest technology company in the world, and raising his young daughter. After he loses nearly everything in the aftermath of his daughter’s lost battle with a rare brain tumor, it may take three strange and yet very familiar visitors – and a man from the therapy group Harry keeps refusing to go to – to get him back on track.

29) To Kill The Mess We’ve Made | Explicit | 43029 words

And when he's finally standing, Liam fussing over him, rubbing his hand at the red mark blooming on Harry's forehead, does Harry learn two things:

One, he wasn't actually hit that hard, and Tommo--or Louis, rather--is just as pretty when Harry is staring at him head-on and,

Two, Louis is the Adidas model he's going to be working with on today's photo shoot.

30) Roots | Explicit | 43233 words

There aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous. He’s spent the past couple of years on and off various stages, filled with screaming fans, all chanting his name, loud and adoring. He’s done countless interviews, some even on live, national television, never faltering over his words, answers meticulously planned out, smooth and steady. He’s signed countless autographs, taken just as many photos, and even when he sat in his label’s studio, waiting to see how high up on the charts his single made it, he didn’t feel uneasy or uncomfortable. It’s all been unbelievably fun. No, there aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous.

Enter Louis Tomlinson.

31) Can I Not Like You For A While? | Explicit | 43346 words

Louis Tomlinson is awful. Harry is just as difficult, and they're both terrible to each other. it makes being in the same acapella group together quite complicated.

32) Tangled Up In You | Explicit | 45152 words

Harry blinks once. And blinks again. And says, his voice dangerous: “Niall, did you get me a mail-order bride?”

Because what the actual fuck. It kind of looks like Niall’s just purchased a person. For Harry.

Niall blinks back at him for a few moments, before throwing his head back and howling with laughter. Harry throws a pillow at him. Hard. “No, what the fuck, Harry.”

“A prostitute then?” Harry also doesn't want a prostitute.

“Of course not!”

“A stripper?”

“No!”

Damn, he’s running out of ideas. He settles for launching another pillow at Niall’s head. Niall bats it away easily, still laughing. “Stop!”

“What did you get me, then?!” Niall must hear the tinge of hysteria in his voice, because he’s pulling himself together, trying to stop himself from laughing.

There’s still a big grin on his face, though, when he says, “I got you a professional cuddler.”

A professional…what. “What?”

33) I Carry Your Heart With Me (I Carry It In My Heart) | Explicit | 55844 words

Harry thinks he has good reasons for avoiding relationships. Meeting Louis puts those reasons to the test.

34) This Feeling | Explicit | 58875 words

"Gonna play it back for you now." Louis clicked play and the song flooded through Harry’s headphones.

The sound of each others voices united into one, and the rhythm of the music carried their voices effortlessly. Harry’s insides tingled and a wave of shivers rolled down his spine.

Before the clip cut off, Harry turned to raise an eyebrow at Louis, and failed miserably at disguising his smile. Louis stared back at him in shock.

35) Swim In The Smoke | Explicit | 101778 words

“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.

Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.

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[eirianerisdar]

Hello :) I loooooove your stories (and I'm very eager to read more of the Silent Song). Could you write something called "Reunion"? :3 I bet you know what I have in mind ^^ Please please please please :3 :3

@ithiliel-the-french-tolkiendil the prompt you sent in February…finally…

Reunion

Summary: The Force-ghosts get together with some nice popcorn to watch the second death star blow up. Someone shows up just in time to join the party. Angsty…crack?

Serious, but…not…serious?

Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn, Yoda, Mace Windu, Tahl Uvain, Anakin Skywalker, Luke Skywalker

Qui-Gon Jinn keeps an eye on the inter-dimensional rift as he stirs more butter into this newest batch of popcorn. Behind him is a ridiculous scene; a room that could almost be a carbon copy of standard-issue quarters at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, but where one wall should be is instead a translucent barrier, shimmering in the Force.

A barrier between the living and the dead.

This dimension currently exists as a comfortable living area with three Jedi lounging upon sofas and meditation cushions alike (and one making popcorn) but out there…

There is a terrific howl of lightsabers just over the flickering border between the timeless world of the Force and the shadowed durasteel of the Death Star; Obi-Wan stands just at the edge, watching the duel between father and son with an inscrutable expression. The clash of plasma blades paint Obi-Wan’s face in alternating shades of crimson and emerald.

“Staring at them won’t make Luke win,” a baritone voice says.

“Quite right, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan murmurs, stroking a hand over his beard. “But I shall watch all the same.” His eyes never leave the duel, glimmering in the flashing lights.

Qui-Gon pours the popcorn into a bag, conjures a measure of Corellian honey, and sets to shaking the mixture with verve. The shaa-shaa of popcorn against plastifilm mixed with the screaming of the lightsabers almost drown out Mace’s next words completely.

“For stars’ sake,” Mace mutters, “I’ve been dead for about a quarter century now, you’d think he’d start calling me Mace.”

A good-natured harrumph sounds from somewhere behind Qui-Gon. “A Knight of the old guard, Obi-Wan is.”

Qui-Gon pours the popcorn into a bowl just as there is a lull beyond the portal.

“Good. Use your aggressive feelings, boy,” a gnarled voice declares nasally. “Let the hate flow through you.”

“And the prune speaks,” Tahl says, from where she is languidly sprawled across a sofa, feet propped up on one armrest. To a casual observer she would seem relaxed, but her green-gold eyes rest on Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon stifles a chuckle as he turns around, setting the bowl of popcorn on the low table between the couches.

“Isn’t this a bit early for a celebration?” Mace says, sitting up. “You’re always one for optimism, Qui-Gon, but Luke hasn’t actually won yet.” His left hand grasps his right wrist, distractedly, a phantom memory.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” Qui-Gon deadpans.

“Not amusing.”

“At all, Qui.”

Qui-Gon raises both hands in surrender to his oldest friends.

“Obi-Wan has taught you well.” The mechanised echo of Vader’s voice has all their heads snapping towards the barrier.

“What’s Luke doing?” Tahl says, suddenly. “He’s deactivated his lightsaber.”

Obi-Wan flicks blue eyes over to her; they are rimmed with moisture. “Being a Jedi,” he says, simply.

“I will not fight you, father.” Luke’s voice is quiet, and determined, and echoes in the Force like a cleansing rain.

Mace frowns, narrowing his eyes at the young black-clothed Jedi standing at the top of the steps. “He’s a shatterpoint,” he says, slowly. Then he straightens, suddenly. “They’re both shatterpoints.”

The Force shivers beneath their feet, awakening.

As the red-green flicker of Jedi against Sith starts up again, the masters drift towards the edge between worlds, drawn by the glimmer of the Force flowing there.

Master Yoda, on the other hand, stays back, gimlet eyes unblinking.

Qui-Gon places a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and feels the desert-thinned shoulder tremble beneath his fingers.

“Your thoughts betray you, father. I feel the good in you, the conflict.”

“There is no conflict.”

“Liar,” Obi-Wan whispers, so softly to be barely audible.

Qui-Gon tightens his grip.

Across the shimmering barrier, Father and son throw words back and forth; the Jedi stand silent, watching.

And then the world erupts in a shower of sparks as Vader hurls his lightsaber at Luke, who stumbles and falls as the catwalk he was standing on is sliced to shreds.

Mace mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “Skywalkers and their methods,” but then the cold chamber in the Death Star falls silent, save for Vader’s breathing, and the Force shudders.

Vader speaks, Vader senses, and Vader…

“Sister. So you have a twin sister. Your feelings have betrayed her to me.” Vader turns in swirl of shadow, and the barrier trembles at the weight of his anger.  “Obi-Wan was wise to hide her from me. Now his failure is complete.”

Obi-Wan makes a noise, behind a hand clamped over his lips. He does not look, in this moment, like a master.

Tahl moves silently to Obi-Wan’s other side, and wraps a bronze-skinned hand around his wrist.

“If you will not turn to the dark side, then perhaps she will.”

Luke’s change is like a torrent of pitch that hammers into the air beyond the barrier and paints the world black.

Qui-Gon flinches, and feels Obi-Wan flinch with him.

The screams of Luke and Vader’s lightsabers do not compare to the screaming of the Force, now.

And then it happens.

Vader goes down with an inhuman howl as Luke’s lightsaber cleaves through his wrist.

And the Emperor laughs.

Luke is shaking as the Emperor speaks.

“He’s about to shatter,” Mace says, quietly. “But I cannot see how.”

The Force roars into a crescendo. It will fall, or it will fly.

It does neither.

It sings.

“You’ve failed, your highness. I am a Jedi, like my father before me.”

Qui-Gon closes his eyes. He knows what will come next, even before the Emperor speaks.

Lightning flashes behind his eyelids, agonising white-rimmed blue, like Luke’s eyes, Anakin’s, Obi-Wan’s, his-

The screaming is worse.

It echoes back, back, twenty years and more, to graceful halls scored with blasterfire, and young voices shrieking in terror as blue-painted soldiers descend upon them, with a shadow at their head-

“Father…please!”

Under Qui-Gon’s fingers, Obi-Wan is deathly still.

The Force stirs at their feet, and whispers at them to open their eyes, and see.

Qui-Gon becomes aware there are hushed footsteps behind them; he turns his head, and is met with the vermillion eyes of Kit Fisto; the kindly face of Ki-Adi-Mundi; the gentle smile of Luminara Unduli, and face after familiar face, filling the chamber and beyond; Jedi come to see the culmination of their hope.

It is not the dark that gives Vader the superhuman strength needed to carry a Sith to its death, when lightning burns away his artificial lungs and heart and limbs; it is light from ten thousand Jedi, watching, and waiting.

The assembled Jedi sigh, and fade away, as Luke scrambles towards his father.

It is suddenly very quiet, in the chamber connected to the living world.

A single word breaks the silence.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmurs. “Anakin.”

Yoda steps up beside his four students, and watches with both hands on his gimer stick.

The five Jedi stand guard, throughout the sobbing and the agony and the sheer determination that allows Luke to drag his father down to the closest hangar bay.

And then Anakin speaks, and Luke listens, and Darth Vader’s helmet is pulled away.

Obi-Wan lowers his head into both hands when he sees Anakin’s face - or what is left of it.

The others turn away. This is a moment too private, and too full, for anyone other than father and son.

Qui-Gon pulls Obi-Wan away from the barrier, and in a moment, the scene beyond it has flickered away into a field of stars, and there, in the centre, hangs the second death star.

And then suddenly there is a sixth Jedi among them.

Obi-Wan raises his tear-streaked face from his hands and stares at his former apprentice.

Anakin - not looking a day above twenty-three - startles, glances around him, meets Mace’s gaze and flinches away, and then decides to stare at his own feet instead.

Qui-Gon pushes Obi-Wan into a seat, nudges Anakin over to him, and stuffs the bowl of popcorn between them.

“My children are stupid,” he says, clearly. “And they need to eat.”

The second Death Star chooses this moment to blow up. Spectacularly.

Mace waggles the intact fingers of his right hand in front of Anakin’s face and takes a handful of popcorn, which he then flings at the barrier.

A passing TIE gets a viewport full of popcorn before being blasted to smithereens by a pursuing X-wing.

With what seems to be a gargantuan effort, Anakin looks up and meets his former master’s eyes.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, voice breaking, “I’m so sor-”

Obi-Wan grabs a fistful of popcorn and smashes it into Anakin’s face.

It is almost a punch.

Anakin gags on a mouthful of popcorn and stares, wide-eyed, as Obi-Wan’s image flickers and re-coalesces into what General Kenobi looked like, at the height of the Clone Wars. No older than thirty-five.

Obi-Wan begins to smile. His auburn beard cannot quite hide it.

Anakin swallows. “Oh, you are so-”

Qui-Gon smashes a cushion into the side of Anakin’s head. It explodes (the cushion, not Anakin’s head) and rains Nubian duck-feathers down on all their heads.

Yoda begins to massage his temples. Mace seems to come to a decision, and reaches for a pillow the same time Tahl slips behind a sideboard and emerges with a bottle of Corellian champagne.

And then popcorn is flung into the air, and there is laughing and shouting and crying - mostly crying - and beyond the barrier, the remnants of the second Death Star glimmer like a second veil of stars over the diamond-studded cloak of the galaxy.

When they appear as a line of blue-hued figures, hours later on the forest moon of Endor, Obi-Wan has to reach over to pluck a feather from Anakin’s cloak.

If Luke is surprised, he does not show it. His smile shines bright enough for ten galaxies.

END

Thanks for reading whatever that was (the product of a wish not to write something cliche and whatever my imagination decided should happen). Mace Windu in that, I think, was more Samuel L Jackson than anything else. Reblog as you like!

This is like. The second-most crack thing I’ve ever written.

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