#when i started the first ep of burrows end

[sunburstsandmoonshadows]

i love how my first introduction to jasper william cartwright, ttrpg player extraordinaire, was not d20 or even three black halflings but the oxventure one-shot video where he's a guest to play You Awaken In a Strange Place, a one-shot game developed by jacob andrews from drawfee, a youtube channel i love dearly alongside oxventure.

that video includes the whispers of revolution in the nondescript regency kingdom, everyone having the power to explode people with their minds (the whole body, i mean (not just the head (the WHOLE body, all of it gone, this is very crucial you see))), and jasper playing a naked duke who's allergic to bricks, which is less relevant than you'd think considering the whole thing takes place in a nightclub in a building presumably made of bricks.

[russanogreenstripe]

So many good moments in Ep 5 of Burrow's End, but this is the one that sets my mind buzzing the most. The idea that community predates identity. We know mama, dada, and baba before we know not only their names, but our own names. And in the season all about family, community, in-group versus outgroup? This feels like such an important idea, and it was came up likely on the spot. It's fascinating to think about, and touches on such big themes about Burrow's End in general.

My mind keeps trying to read "name" as "self," and come up with something like "we have to know others before we know who we are," but I think there's a fundamental error in that idea. Neurologically, we just start off with just "Me" - one of our basic senses is what is "Me" and what is "Not Me." That's fundamental to further categorization, and faults in that sense is where things like depersonalization / derealization come from. Names are just labels, and they're not even the first labels we have for them.

This ties into another point that a lot of people had when watching the trailer at the end of Ep. 4 and during the live reaction of Ep. 5 - the idea that because Sybil was so reluctant to say her brother's name after he died, that it was the result of some top-down oppression within Last Bast and further proof that it's not as idyllic as it seems. Now, Last Bast almost certainly isn't a utopia, and I'm sure we're going to learn more about that in the next episode. And it's possible that it is a top-down enforcement that Sybil, having been raised in Last Bast, has internalized. However, there's a chance this isn't the case.

Less than 30 seconds on Google turns up several cultures that have taboos around speaking the names of the dead - Aboriginal mortuary rituals, the Apache of the Southwest US, the Tolowa tribe of California, the Yanomami on the border of Brazil and Venezuela, certain Romani/Irish Traveller groups, and almost certainly more. While it initially seems unfathomable to Western cultural mores around remembering and memorializing the dead, it's just as possible possible that instead of a method of social control, it's simply a cultural taboo.

https://scholarblogs.emory.edu/gravematters/2017/04/18/aboriginal-mortuary-rituals/

And as Aabria has commented both during the live discussion and general discord channels,

Aabria's a smart cookie, and I trust that she's done plenty of worldbuilding and put tons of thought into how Last Bast's society works. We've seen she's great at her cultural analysis while in the DM's chair in both Misfits & Magic and in A Court of Fey and Flowers. Culture and society are interwoven in all of her games, and where does all that start? With family.

[underwaterbanshee]

I love your post about Tula, I just finished the latest ep of burrows end and I am SCROUNGING for theories.

What do you think she was ‘fundamentally lying’ about?? I’ve seen a couple posts floating around:

- one was how maybe Geoffrey could’ve been a bad husband and Tula didn’t save him because of it (maybe killed him?)

- Another was, maybe the Blue (radiation?) is killing her to use it?

- Another good one, was maybe Tula isn’t their (Jaysohn and Lila’s) bio mother.

I don’t have a very good or original educational guess, but I don’t think she killed Geoffrey. I do think she knows what did, and she’s lying so her children aren’t vengeful. She doesn’t want her children chasing power, to avenge their dad, or getting caught up in what he was deeply in.

I think it’s been said before, but in some of Geoffrey’s art he has a little grass belt, and the only other stoats we’ve seen have tools/clothes, was in Last Bast. (I can see the connection there, but we’ve also seen Viola have ‘accessories’, so it could just be a red herring.)

I think maybe Tula knows more about Last Bast (or humans) than she lets on, possibly from Geoffrey (if the grass belt is a connection.) I think Geoffrey saw something, or knew something in Last Bast, and ran. Eventually, he found the red Warren, fell in love, and started a family.

Now with an invested interest to keep his family safe, he’s using what he learned in Last Bast in the Red Warren, which somehow got him killed. (By a human? Maybe? The humans that saw Thorn seemed more interested than expressing a want to kill him - maybe humans want to test the stoats for radiation sickness, or something like that?) it’s giving watership down meets Chernobyl, the natural world clashing with human disasters.

Just some thoughts! I feel like there’s so many clues and pieces on the board, but no lines connecting them. There’s an allegory that I’m not catching, and it’s driving me NUTS.

What do you make of this? :)

(sorry for the long ask! Just excited!)

omg this is my very first ask and I'm trying to be normal about it

So, it's been a few days and I've been going over this in my head and here are my conclusions to your lovely, lovely ask <3

The lie is probably something incredibly mundane.

Adults lie to children all the time. Lila is going through what every child goes through as they become a teenager--she's starting to see the cracks between reality, truth, and the fictions adults use to process an unfair world.

I think it is entirely possible that when the lie is revealed, an adult audience might go, "Oh, that's not a big a deal," while Lila overreacts with betrayal.

It's entirely possible Geoffrey is from Last Bast.

The only thing I'm basing this on, besides character art, is that Tula is based on Mrs. Brisby from Secret of NIMH and Last Bast is giving me Rats of NIMH vibes, not secret authoritarian cult vibes (which is an entirely different post that I'll probably never write). I mean, the Rats had magic and electricity.

Also, Brian might be analogous to Jenner, the power hungry Rat, the First Stoats might be like Nicodemus, just like Bennett is probably Justin.

Did I want Bennett to be a fuckable version of Justin for Tula? Yes. But that's only because my childself wanted Justin and Mrs. Brisby to end up together. Baby Banshee didn't understand why that wouldn't work. She wanted love to win.

Anyway.

Based on how much the Red Warren Family popped off against Last Bast during this episode, I don't know if there will be more Secret of NIMH elements playing out. It's possible Tula could bring up Geoffrey and get confirmation on that but I don't think it's important to our stouts anymore.

But wouldn't it be interesting if Tula knew about Last Bast before they arrived? Didn't someone say something about lies of omission?

Mrs. Brisby's character arc is about having enough courage to move her family while her son has pneumonia. She confronts an owl, a cat, and a power hungry rat who deliberately puts moving the mouse family's home in jeopardy, in order to keep her family safe.

During most of the story, her children are in the dark about what she's doing to keep them alive and protect their future.

What an amazing archetype as Tula's touchstone.

One of the great things about the d20 campaigns is not only the mashup but how the players resolve the mashup after making a mess. I might be seeing lots of NIMH being laid down, now that the Watership Down portion is somewhat resolved but I'm prepared to be totally wrong as maybe our vicious varmints take us in a new direction.

Like I said--obsessed with Tula =^_^=

[doll-shaped-cyanide]

Update (10/04/24)

What I'm Into Now

MCU (Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Agatha Harkness)

X-Men (Characters: Logan)

What I'm Working On

Daffodil Futures: Decided to make this a collection instead of one long fic; still working on the first installment where Agatha and Wanda meet

Playing with an idea where Wanda runs away from the Avengers and Agatha takes her in; this definitely isn't going anywhere until after Agatha All Along finishes airing, but the idea is still burrowing into my brain

Fic Recs

And there we go! You can tell I'm really into the idea of Agatha teaching a young Wanda witchcraft lol. I've been developing my own magic system for these types of fics, and it's been really fun, so that's probably why.

See y'all next week!

Agatha All Along thoughts under the cut.

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

THIS IS NOT A DRILL THERE ARE LESBIANS!!!!!!

Where do I even start?! I loved this so much. I say that every time, but it's also true every time.

The reveal that Teen isn't Nicholas Scratch (via Rio's "That boy isn't yours") was so well delivered! Agatha's distress and panic upon learning that the glass had cut him was so good! Pleading with Jen to save him and refusing to let Rio (Death) take him was just... *chef's kiss*

Let that woman be a mother! She wants it so bad!

Also, Rio lent evidence to the theory that something else happened to Nicholas (the "she's my scar" anecdote). My proposed timeline of events is: Agatha has her son -> Rio has to kill him for one reason or another, even though she doesn't want to -> Agatha hates Rio for this and turns to the Darkhold to try and get him back ("You hid behind all that dark magic" from ep 1) but was corrupted.

ALSO!! CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT ALMOST KISS AND THE LITTLE CONVERSATION IN THE SOUND BOOTH! Agatha and Rio were in a relationship that ended when Rio had to kill Nick and I will die on this hill! They clearly still have feelings for each other and you can pry this out of my cold, dead hands!

GAH I AM PACING AND FLAPPING MY HANDS SO HARD

Thank you for listening to me scream, and hopefully you'll tune in next week to see which way I lose my mind next!

[swallowtailed]

palisade 43

man. incredible episode.

really pulling the entire divine cycle together—calling back to the hypha, to strati, to volition—and the whole sweep of partizan/palisade.

extremely cute intro. hopping back on air (while high) to freestyle for the entire twilight mirage, honor the dead, drop one “valence” in there real quick, and get out again. parti rights. we’re baaack~ :D

thisbe this episode: hooting hollering etc. worldwide resonance!! her conversation with volition was really compelling. it did strike me that volition seemed to approach the question of divine autonomy from a rather individualist angle (just think yourself free! let people do what they want!), which i suspect is an artifact of (a) living in a supportive community for 500 years & so somewhat forgetting the importance of that, and (b) being volition. i do think that thisbe is on the right track in the principality context, looking toward community building.

also it’s so funny that volition just is an obsidian orb again sometimes. trans rights

brnine this episode: describing grief as a disconnect from your past akin to leaving entire planets is so perfect for brnine. also devastating. loved the sandwich callback as well, that was one of my favorite twilight mirage beats.

am pulling together thoughts about brnine getting challenged to stay in the mirage or leave and fight. when you’ve been defending the distant concept of an ideal, how do you handle the reality of it—especially when that reality is something you were never meant to see, and is so disconnected from the circumstances of your life and your cause. but of course brnine’s tied their life entirely to their idea of keeping up the fight, and haven’t thought that anyone they’re honoring could ever have wanted anything else. (it is also: blue channel going back at the end of partizan.)

have we considered the possibility that ali isn’t gonna have brnine say valence’s name unless and until it’s with their last words

on that note: you know, if someone was terrified of dying, but also sort of craved death, and also grounded their self-worth in their fight for their cause, it would seem awfully appealing to be promised endless life as long as you don’t stop moving. very here for jesset’s motion era. i don’t think there’s enough left of motion to take an elect… is this a dark mirror of integrity? something burrowing in? jesset’s brain gets hooked into that mech…

but also what do we think he’d pick for his elect name if he did pick one. has to be a plant, right? and he already has another naming scheme to fit as well… i think it should be catnip

eclectic this episode: of course he’s trying to arrest the divine who killed his squadmate in front of him, aka the first chapter of every noir procedural ever.

what is futgure doing ohhhhh my god

hey also we still don’t know dre’s new character? many questions

cori this episode: SO glad she’s joined perennial. love this for her. also the… black russian sage wings???? excellent. her entire conversation with perennial was so moving—reaching out to figure and finding their god doing the same is such a piece of tragedy. and the way the need to protect is shared among the three of them—have not stopped thinking about figure just wanting to see cori safe and happy. and then cori holding perennial as she sobs.

“we were figure’s people” is exactly what i wanted someone to say but also ;-;

the conceit of doing a story in a time loop is that you’re gonna repeatedly say, well, can’t do it this time, better move on—which sucks when the loop is a revolution, right, because then it’s implied that liberation is a one in a billion chance and more than likely impossible. (fine starting place, frustrating ending.) but with perennial no longer able to turn back the clock, it gives cori room to declare that there’s no need to keep restarting, they can win it here and now. it’s never impossible. which i am glad for.

look i’m sure they’re just gonna do 1-2 more downtime eps and then 4-7 finale eps and that’ll be palisade but. clears throat. taps mic. It’s Gonna Be Really Funny When They Do Thirty More Episodes. ok that’s all

[jinglerat]

burrow's end speculations

the lightning that struck thorn is an electric fence separating the blue-d forest and the meadow, kinda like a quarantined zone

ofc the yellow hairless creatures with black claws and blank shiny eyes are people in hazmat suits

the first dust filled air ava experienced was from a jeep with the hazmat people kicking up the dirt

however the second wave of dust/smoke we saw in ep 1 was probably something else. since it came from a single location, i'm thinking it's pest control fumigation.

why pest control fumigation? the hazmat people saw thorn at the meadow with lightning, that's the border of the quarantine zone. they're probably trying to contain all the creatures affected by the blue behind the electric fence. so they try to keep the animals in by pumping that gas into the forest.

the grey stone building is very likely an abandoned research facility overrun with nature (or just starting to get overrun, depending on when the blue first happened).

the blue is for sure radiation. but from what science shit? that's what i want to know. maybe a nuclear powerplant failure? maybe experiments gone wrong? maybe this is the work of the world's first freak scientist who just wanted to know how to make an element hit supercritical just to see what happens?

who knows! but i wanna see them explore the building next episode

[deelovesbooks]

so i only started watching d20 this year and i started with Neverafter man what a ride! I loved it so much and I'll be back to watch it again sometime I love little red and my frog man so much lmao

and then once that was finished, I decided hmm let's do A Crown of Candy that seems fun! And this was of course while I'm in the middle of 3rd year so I don't have A Lot of time and honestly just added to my extremely high stress levels already. (I haven't actually finished the campaign yet 😬 classes ramped up and it much stress abounded lmao I think there's like 4 eps left? After the betrayal and jet dying and meeting Frostwhip and rescuing Jawbreaker I believe I've seen the episode after jawbreaker is rescued and that's the last. I will come back eventually when I'm less stressed and farther from metal breakdown lol)

And then I watched the first and I think second? episode of dungeons and drag queens. And I truly enjoyed it! I will return to watching it and finish it for sure I just got very deep into school and had no time and then breakdown era lmao

Then I watched Mentopolis! My friend and I both watched and talked theories and honestly I loved it. Just so good, I believe made me cry. Will likely rewatch.

And now I am Obsessed with Burrow's End. Like, I don't even know how to put it in words. (Is it probably because Im mentally unwell right now and under vast stress and strain and have been since September? Lmao probably a small contributing factor) but like I have rewatched episodes already in this season it's that fucking good.

And now while waiting for the weekly episode to drop rather than doing any of my truly enormous list of Extremely important and Critical things to do, I decided I haven't had enough of d20 and I needed more Aabria DM in my life rn. So now I am honestly plowing my way through a court of fey and flowers and I'm in love. Ok Chirp and Squawk are truly marvelous and play off eachother so damn well I am in love with these birds and all the bird puns and references they make endlessly bring me joy. And fucking K P Hob omg 😭 truly going to make me cry this fucking goblin man. I don't really know much about this campaign or what happens but I stg if Hob and Rue don't end up together I will be heartbroken. I just finished the hedge maze EP and honestly up to this point just fucking heartbreaking. But like Holy shit honestly the whole cast is killing it and Aabria bringing the fucking thunder and not even like just A game the fucking A+ extra credit graduate early with honors game holy shit. Like I'm not big into regency, I've never read p&p or seen Downton Abbey or Bridgeton but I've read a few books set in that era and have knowledge of the media and like the cadence and tropes of the genre, so like when I say I'm invested so much I'm like sooo invested. I love all the mechanics with the tokens and the letters and the rumors especially it's amazing. Truly revolutionary and groundbreaking and in the least creepy way possible I would give Aabria a kidney her work is just so amazing.

Anyways! The point I started making this with was that I can't wait until I finish acofaf so that way I can actually go through the tags without getting spoiled!

[chalkrevelations]

So, the belt scene. Listen, I’ve already established that the worst parts of Pete’s treatment for me, personally, have been the emotional and psychological stuff, so if we’re rating things on a scale, of the three major torture/abuse scenes we get in Ep 11, this one’s at the bottom. Yes, it’s brutal, but it’s also pretty pedestrian, which is a thing I’d frankly love to be able to say to Vegas’s face and watch his reaction to, but he deserves it, because he’s losing his flair. Although maybe it’s never actually about the beating, but about the larger mindgame it’s embedded in … but more on that in a minute. At any rate, it’s not the beating itself that I really come out of this scene focused on, which I think is maybe the way I’m supposed to react to it. So, some bits and pieces of things that I found noteworthy, before my main takeaway from this scene:

1. I love that Pete’s apparently just standing around, bored as shit, a lot of the time. You are terrible at providing enrichment for any of your pets, Vegas. I love that when we come in on Pete in this scene, he’s actively trying to figure out a way to get out of his handcuffs. I love love love that both we and Pete get to hear Vegas on the phone with his father through the door as Vegas approaches the room, because he sounds the way he’s only ever sounded with Kun – younger, desperate, dare I say softer, and out of control. Bible’s range here is fucking superb. Other than with his father, we’ve generally seen Vegas either working very hard at keeping control of the room in whatever way he needed to, or reveling in his position of power. Hearing him talk to his father like this, at the same time we’re learning precisely how deep this asshole is burrowed into Vegas’s head … well. It makes me wonder if this younger, desperate-to-please Vegas is running on a hamster wheel inside his head every minute of every day. If this is what it sounds like all the time in there, where no one other than Vegas can hear it. How hard he’s had to work to keep anyone from knowing it. How hard he’s had to work to keep Macau from knowing it, so that Macau doesn’t lose faith in his big brother.

2. I feel like the one bit of new info we get out of the beating is MAYBE that the minute Pete starts actively cringing away from the belt, Vegas stops and accuses him of not being fun anymore, but I don’t know if we can even trust that this observation actually tells us anything about Vegas and his relationship to Pete, whatever that relationship is at this point. I can’t actually tell if this is a genuine reaction from Vegas or not. On its surface, it makes it look like Vegas wants the fight, wants Pete spitting mad and snapping back at him, straining at the end of his leash, and that when Pete doesn’t give him that, he gets bored. But here’s the thing: He already got Pete to explicitly surrender once, with the leverage of Grandma, and so Vegas knows not only that he can break Pete, but that he’s already met that challenge. He’s made him back down once already, and it didn’t stop Vegas then, it just pushed him further into Pete’s space, until he was interrupted by something outside their bubble. So, what’s different this time, that Vegas reacts differently? Or maybe he doesn’t react differently at all. Maybe he just crawls his way further into Pete’s head, the way he did the first time, although not using the same methods - last time it was upping the sexual ante. This time, it’s using the excuse of the beating – which was maybe never the actual point, never the actual torture in the first place – and the supposed boredom to play a mindgame that he was planning from the minute he walked in the bedroom door, which is throwing that belt down on the bed within easy reach for anyone with Pete’s training – head bodyguard of the major family, which Vegas explicitly calls out later in this sequence, to make sure we know he’s aware of Pete’s training and skill. And then Vegas “storms” out, leaving Pete alone with the belt, knowing exactly what’s going to happen and that he’s going to get to quash any hope that Pete has when Pete thinks he might be able to escape. Because Vegas – lbr - as much as I love him, Vegas is a motherfucker, and that’s exactly the kind of game he’d play with his food before he eats it. This is literally what cats will do with mice – “accidentally” lose hold of them despite their sharp sharp claws and let them run so they can chase.

3. I have to pause a minute and be almost as terrible as Vegas, because Build, your hands and wrists as you work your way out of those handcuffs should NOT look that gorgeous. Possibly I’m not quite normal about Build Jakapan’s wrists, at this point. Just. Give me a minute, OK? OK.

4. Also, oh, so everyone except Porsche DOES know how to do the handcuff escape trick. Funny that no one taught it to Porsche.

5. ANYWAY, Vegas is either too trusting, or scary smart (and I know which one I’d bet on), because he seems to know that Pete’s only going to make a break for it once he’s free. Because here’s the thing, my first reaction once Pete was free was that he needed to take that belt and wait behind the door until the next time Vegas came in and strangle him with it. Barring that, he could have at least taken it with him, as the only thing he has that even approaches being a weapon, but no, he doesn’t even do that. And Vegas seems to expect that – he doesn’t appear worried about it or surprised at all that Pete’s out there with literally nothing except the boxers he has on. PETE, WTF?

6. Vegas comes stalking down the dock after Pete with his shirt unbuttoned to his navel, and my thought process is literally, “FFS, Vegas, who do you think you are, Kinn? Oh, wait. Yeah, ok, ow.”

7. Once again, Kinnporsche has given us a softer roadmap for the Vegaspete relationship (it’s like they’re the Caoxiang to Vegaspete’s Wenzhou): Porsche jumps into the water to escape, and Kinn lets him, before going home to complain to daddy. Vegas isn’t about to let Pete escape, and he certainly can’t complain to daddy, who’s not even supposed to know Pete’s still alive and who would certainly only smack Vegas for being a fuckup if he heard that he let Pete get away.

ANYWAY, my main takeaway from all this is that I know, I know that a lot of people want to see Pete escape, they want to see him walk away and leave Vegas in agonies, they want Pete to give Vegas one last night and then have Vegas wake up to find that his sudden new beloved has abandoned him, but I will swear up and down until the day BOC proves me either wrong or right that the course of the relationship cannot happen that way and remain narratively and thematically coherent. Vegas has got to let Pete go. We’ve watched everything Vegas has said so far in the show be a manipulation for his own gain. GIving Pete back his freedom and agency - choosing to suffer his own pain rather than continuing to hurt Pete - is the only way for Vegas to prove his sincerity. THAT’S HOW WE’LL KNOW we can trust he’s being honest about his feelings for Pete.

Again, Ep 11 is them imprisoned together, locked up together like prisoners in the same cell, and it’s their equivalent of Ep 6, when Kinn and Porsche spent their time handcuffed together, when their forced proximity created a sea change in their relationship, and when Kinn kept Porsche locked to him despite being able to let him go at any time because the thought of losing that increasing intimacy was unbearable to him, right up until he realized that he had to unlock the handcuffs and let Porsche go free. Completely free, out of his life if that’s what it took to make Porsche happy. Because of the way these relationships mirror each other, I think Vegas is going to have to make the same decision.

I do wonder if it will happen just the way that it did in this episode though – with a belt accidentally and conveniently “forgotten” just where the head bodyguard of the major family, with all his training and skills, can get his hands on it and use it to get out of his cuffs. And because of this sequence with the belt in Ep 11, we know that they both know. They know.

[tutuchlee]

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

Star Gazers

Author note: Hey guys! Here is the sk8 infinity fic I have been working on for anon !

I apologize for the wait, I was planning to have it done last night but 3 hours in I accidentally refreshed the page and lost my ENTIRE fic!

I also apologize if the writing quality is not it’s best— after losing the fic yesterday I found it hard to rewrite many parts and struggled with find my groove again. I’ve rewritten this about 4 times now and this was the best I managed to do.

I hope you all enjoy regardless, and I promise to do better in the future!

Summary: After finally coming to his senses, Reki makes up with Langa, only for Langa to give him a piece of his mind!

Word count: 2767 

Warnings: Some swearing, tickles, this fic takes place at the end of ep 10, so SPOILERS for those who have not gotten that far

Ships: Reki x Langa

———————————————————————

Misery. 

It was the only word that came to mind to describe the hell of a week Reki had gone through. 

It wasn’t easy to come to terms with the skill difference between him and his friends, especially his boyfriend who had surpassed all of them in the timespan of a couple of months. On top of that-- getting beat up, hit by a car, then waking up in a random hotel room really put the cherry on top for the young skater. 

The world felt as though it was completely against the young firecracker. 

However, none of his injuries could compare to the heart aching pain he had to go through from pushing his boyfriend away. 

Langa deserved none of this, for how could he? He was naturally talented in skating, and Reki should have been proud. He was his teacher after all--and usually a teacher wants their pupal to succeed, but for Reki, he just wished he could compare. 

Langa no longer needed him. 

He’d already taught himself far more tricks than Reki could have dreamed of and perfected each and every one of them. Meanwhile, Reki was falling behind, and drowning in his own sorrow. 

Perhaps what upset him more was the fact he still wished to skate against Adam. Watching them the last time had set Reki off for quite some time, for how could it not? Adam touched Langa as if he owned him, and on top of that he was already calling the two of them Adam and Eve! Who even was this guy!

But even so, Reki knew his actions were wrong. Ignoring his boyfriend, yelling at him and even purposely avoiding him was definitely the receipt for the worse boyfriend award. 

And of all places he had to realize this, it had to be upon waking up in the love hotel with some random guy. He had rushed home as soon as he could after giving a heart filled reply to the strange man who had asked him to quit skating, and realized his love for skating didn’t happen from being better from everyone, but from skating with those you love. 

Which was how the two lovers ended up here; Reki sprawled out on his back with Langa taking a faceplant into his stomach at the skate park once used to teach snow his first ollie. 

A groan escaped from Reki’s mouth as he slowly propped himself on his elbows, using one of his hands to rub the back of his head. “Langa..!” he whined, looking down at the snowflake that had yet to move, “Why didn’t you dodge me!” he asked with a subtle pout on his face.

Silence passed over the two with no response from the other. Instead, Reki noticed a slight quivering of his shoulders, and his panic quickly spiked. Disregarding his injuries, his attention was now on his boyfriend which he feared was injured.

“Langa!” he called out once more, moving his hand away from his head to gently nudge the others back.

 That’s when he was met with those beautiful sky blue eyes, with none other than a huge grin plastered across his face as laughter spilled out. His anxiety soon melted away at the sight as his eyes lit up, taking in the sight of his Canadian boyfriend. 

And eventually Langa’s laughter died down to a comforting silence as the two lovers gazed into each others eyes.

It was moments like these that Reki both loved and hated. He loved looking at his gorgeous boyfriend, basking in the affection he always gave off—but hated that he could not last more than five seconds without becoming a flustered mess.

His cheeks had blossomed into a crimson red as he quickly brought his arm up, draping it over his face as an attempt to shield himself from the other. And as he peeled his eyes away he glanced off into the distance, trying to give himself a chance to calm down. 

“Did you hit your head or something..?” He asked, trying to break the awkward silence he had created.

However, for Langa, he adored Reki’s reaction each time, sometimes purposely doing things just to see his firecracker sizzle. It was not easy to tame the other, especially with his hyper personality, but he found that with a little affection he could get the other to soften down. So adorable.

So, as he looked up at the other, he was unable to hold back anymore. From the bottom of his heart, Langa began his barrage of compliments to the other, telling him how much he cherished him as a skater and a lover. Reki had taught him everything he knew-- and seeing him hate skating just because of it pained Langa more than he thought it would. 

It had been everything Reki needed to hear and more, filling the void he had created of self-doubt. His words comforted him like a blanket, making his previous view on himself disappear as he continued to spill sweet nothings. It was all too much for poor Reki.

Langa knew Reki couldn’t handle compliments, and Reki mentally cursed at him for it as the crimson tint slowly crawled to the tips of his ears. Unable to take much more, Reki quickly put his hand out, stealing a glance at the pale face as he cut him off, “That’s enough! That’s really enough..!” he muttered sheepishly.

Curse you Langa.

But truly, the redhead felt at ease from his anxiety. And as he let out an embarrassed cry, he slowly fell back onto the concrete as Langa’s words circulated throughout his head, playing like a broken record. 

Feeling satisfied, Langa slowly lowered his chin down atop Reki’s stomach again, pressing his cheek against him as he too laid with the other.

And as the silence continued, Reki’s thoughts only wandered, thinking about what his next step would be in terms of skating and making it up to Miya for breaking his trust. But—those thoughts were cut short when an electrifying jolt pulled him out of thought, causing an unattractive shriek to escape his lips as he immediately sat up, looking down at the culprit.

There Langa laid, burrowing the tip of his nose against the lining of skin exposed by his shirt, abusing the access by lightly peppering kisses along the soft tummy it showed. It felt as if there were butterflies battering their wings against his belly, sending shivers down his spine with each kiss.

“H-hey!” he screeched, his voice cracking as he squirmed beneath him, “Quit it, you know I can’t stand it when you do this!”

Did Langa know this? Perhaps. But would he stop now? No.

Those gorgeous blue eyes Reki loved so much slowly rose to meet his, a clear mischief behind them that he didn’t want to acknowledge. His arms slowly wrapped around his lovers torso, encasing him in a trap Reki with he’d seen sooner. 

“Reki, I haven’t been able to hear your laugh in over a week. Don’t you think thats a little cruel?” He asked, a look of disappointment yet playfulness on his face.

This was it for little Reki. His instincts to run were starting to kick in, but as he squirmed below the other he realized now there was no way of getting out of this. Perhaps, plan B?

“L-Langa, wai-AIT!” 

His voice cracked mid plead as two fingers found their way to his sides, jabbing into that practically sensitive spot just between his ribs and hips. His back snapped straight at the unexpected sensation, causing yet another yelp from the teen. 

In a desperate attempt to stop the other, he reached down and grabbed his shirt, hoping to shut him out of the unfair advantage he had of his bare skin. However, that attempt was deemed a fail after he pulled the shirt over Langa’s head, trapping him and his devious intentions inside.

Unable to help a smirk from growing on his lips, the now trapped Langa pressed his cheek against the others stomach, rubbing it gracefully against his skin as if to show he was getting comfy. He let the other have a moment, peacefully laying there as his plan was going better than intended.

Reki, on the other hand, was a squirming mess. His mind was becoming discombobulated as he tried to figure out what the next move from the other was. But that was proven difficult since all he could feel was Langa’s breath, lightly dusting against the hairs lining his belly, making each one stand on end.

All he could do now was plea, hoping that his snowflake would have mercy on him. But alas, his words only went through one ear out the other, having no affect whatsoever on the situation.

With a light chuckle, the assault began. 

The fingers glued to his sides began wiggling, digging out the laughter he patiently waited for. It took everything Reki had not to scream as he jolted from side to side, his voice cracking while he erupted with his shrieky laughter. 

 It truly was music to Langa’s ears. His head bounced against his quivering stomach, getting to feel and hear his laughter as it echoed all around the skatepark.

But was it greedy for him to want more?

As his fingers wiggled deviously into the curves of his sides, he decided to change it up. Without warning, his wiggling fingers came to a stop, and instead changing to something much more unbearable. 

They gently pinched the others skin, making sure to get right into the grooves of his side to hit the spots he knew he couldn’t handle. He’d move up and down much as his wrist allowed him to, occasionally vibrating a particular spot that got a good reaction from the redhead.

To add onto that, those butterfly kisses soon returned across his stomach, turning him into a pile of mush as he laughed his head off.

Reki was always known for his loud and cracky tone of voice, and it truly showed through his laughter that changed in pitch every few seconds, cracking and screeching every time his sides would get drilled. 

There was little to no hope of getting out of this, and no amount of shoving or pleads seemed to be working, so all he could do now was take it. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, he slowly fell back in a heap of laughter, squirming beneath his boyfriend holding him hostage.

Anyone walking around might question what crime scene was taking place in the skate park, but to their luck no one came to check.

Instead he was left there to laugh his throat hoarse by his boyfriend who seemed to be enjoying this much more than he was. 

For minutes on end, Langa would pinch and drill into his sides, occasionally spidering his finger nails across the bare skin to cause his poor redhead to twitch and cry out with laughter. 

“L-LAHAnga!” he’d repeatedly screech, shaking his head from side to side to indicate he was done with the torment. But to his demise, Langa was buried beneath his shirt, showing no signs of stopping.

In some ways, this was Langa’s way of taking out his stress on the other for the past week. Did Reki really believe he wouldn’t be upset?

Hearing him laugh now made up for all the times his heart shattered at the sight of his usual happy and cheerful boyfriend unable to even shed a smile. Seeing that there were no screams for him to stop, he only assumed his boyfriend was enjoying it too. 

So as he happily continued his assault, the kisses he’d been leaving around the open canvas came to a halt. 

Instead, he moved himself into position just below the others naval and took a deep breath, grinning as he slowly moved down to press his lips against the skin, blowing as much air as possible to create that loud ‘PFTT’ noise Reki once used on him. 

That's where his firecracker exploded, screaming out with laughter as he kicked his legs out, arching his back as his skin rippled below his lips. The vibration carried from his stomach and traveled up his body, causing almost a tsunami of ticklish sensations to follow. 

“LAHAHANGAAAHA!”

Holy shit-- it tickled to the point Reki thought he might die.

Tears of mirth collected in the corners of his eyes before spilling over as Langa decided to leave tiny raspberries around his naval, causing the poor redhead to completely lose himself.

It was unbearable. 

At this point his laughter was beginning to grow silent since the onslaught of baby raspberries weren’t stopping, and Langa’s hands were still torturing his sides with pinches.

Geez, where the hell did he even learn how to tickle like this!

“L-LangHA! I-I...I cahahan’t take it!” he managed to wheeze out between his screechy laughter, smacking his leg against the ground to show he was k.o’d. He started to desperately claw at the back of Langa’s shirt, trying with all the energy he had left to pull him away. 

His bladder wouldn’t be able to take much more of this, and at this rate he’d definitely lose his voice!

But to his relief, the attack began to slow. There was one final raspberry on the dead center of his naval that resulted in a snort from the redhead, adding yet another embarrassing noise to his index of screeches, but thankfully that marked the end to his attack.

The fingers that were torturing every inch of his sides slowed as well, but never retracted. Instead, Langa decided to give him a little treat, and instead gave him the light tickles he knew Reki loved.

With the tips of his finger nails, he barely brushed them against his skin, hardly making contact as he dusted them across his sides. 

Reki, whom was now a sweaty pile of mush on the ground, panted heavily as the other let up on his tickle attack. After giggles were all that remained, and upon trying to calm down he could feel Langa giving him his specialty. 

The tickles that made his skin crawl, but also calm him to the point of sleep. 

He loved them, and so did Langa. They were usually used during their cuddle sessions to calm the firecracker who couldn’t seem to sit still, and upon the discovery Langa used them whenever he could. 

So as he laid there catching his breath, he felt the spidery tickles calming his tickled mind. They skittered up his sides, dragging back down just to do it again. As if he wasn’t exhausted already, they brought the extra wave of comfort and sleep with them. 

Langa knew what he was doing. He planned on taking the tired out skater back to his place so they could sleep together. His sheets were no longer stained with the sweet scent of the other, and usually it took a lot of convincing to get Reki to agree to sleep over due to his constant state of being flustered.

So as he as treated Reki to his favorite ghost tickles, he slowly popped his head out from the cave that was Reki’s shirt, flashing him a soft smile despite his hair being disheveled from the static. 

Feeling the other finally arise from the cave he’d created beneath his shirt, he opened his eyes slightly to glance down at him, still a flustered mess with a hint of sweat lining his forehead. 

“You...you’re cruel.” he wheezed, bringing his arms up in defeat. 

Langa only grinned, looking down at the exposed torso Reki had left him, which he knew was 100% intentional even if Reki refused to admit to it.

“I love you, Reki.” Was his reply as he finally untangled his arms from around the others waist, instead moving them under his shirt to lightly spider all around his sweet belly, dusting the baby hairs all around the soft skin.

He even drew a faint heart as Reki visibly pouted, clearly trying to ignore the fluttering tickles despite Langa knowing how much he craved them.

With a huff, Reki eventually looked down at him, unable to hold back the smile that he was forcing out of him. And as he looked at his snowflake, he realized now how lucky he was to have a boyfriend like Langa. 

And with that, he sat up, reaching down to cup his boyfriends cheeks as he drew him in, pressing a soft kiss to those lips he was proud to call his, pulling away moments after with a tired grin. 

“I love you too, Langa.”

[underwaterbanshee]

I read your post but got too excited so I had to drop it and come back to it later! I’m so flattered and excited that I’m your first ask!! I’m glad to know you can’t be normal about this because there is no way I can be either 😂

I think you’re totally on to something about the lie being mundane, since it’s true - adults lie to children all the time.

but I also think Brennan has something sneaky up his sleeve.

Brennan is good at playing the long game with these short episodes, especially when it comes to his characters having layers. What I can’t stop thinking about, is why did he choose the Tula to be a ‘oath of redemption’ paladin? It’s so on brand for her character, ‘the bleeding heart’ type of character, the tender mother that’s doing her best, etc.

What does Tula need redemption from? What made it so engraved in her core being, that redemption is that important to her?

And yes!! Aabria mentioned about a lie of omission, so what didn’t Tula say? Or imply? A lie of omission that is fundamentally important to Tula? It’s CONNECTED I just don’t know how. I feel like that conspiracy board meme guy with the red string. 😂

And I totally agree with you that Lila is in that teenager stage where you start to see through the cracks, the one where your world view is starting to shake. But her IMPLICIT trust in her mom is gonna crush me at some point, there’s some kind of heart break that’s gonna happen and I don’t know if I can handle it 😭

I think there’s some kind of parallel, what I want to fully say is at the tip of my tongue , but I don’t know the words to say it. It’s something about growing up as the eldest daughter, it’s a parallel from Tula and Viola, between Lila and Jaysohn. But the words are lost on me rn 😅

And oh MY I forgot about secrets of NIMH! I think it was stated before that’s who Tula was based off, I completely missed that. My memories from NIHM is kinda blurry, but going off the vibes from my memory, yea I do think Last Bast is more like the secret society than a secret cult, but I don’t know if it’s as good as a society as the rats were? I still get a sinister vibe. I think once we meet the First Stoats, it’ll really clarify what kinda place Last Bast is.

(Also also, would love love to see Tula and Bennet- but what I’d love more is to see Ava and Bennet. Not romantically or anything, their dynamic so funny to me, I can’t wait for the next ep.)

(Little martin also wanted love to win, the CHEMISTRY between these rodents)

I really can’t wait to see how it’ll all turn out, but with that said I also never want it to end.

Aside from Burrows end, what’s your fav D20 campaign? I alway go back and watch the seven for noise in the background, but Metropolis is up there for me, and Neverafter!

Full disclosure, I meant to answer this four episodes ago but real life decided to be rude. So all of my answers at the time are no longer relevant and I wish we could've gone back and forth on thoughts and theories because so much cool shit has happened.

But I can answer your last question!

I started watching d20 live during A Court of Fey and Flowers so it has a special place in my heart. I started watching d20 in general because I missed Lou, Aabria, and Brennan after EXU: Calamity. I immediately watched MisMag, followed by The Seven, (having seen exactly 0 episodes of Fantasy High), before eventually making my way through most of what d20 has to offer. There are just a few that I couldn't get into ^^;;

If I had to pick a favorite, it would be NeverAfter. I love faery tales and their retellings so much, that when they were coupled with another love of mine, alternate universes, those twenty weeks were my comfort actual play show and I want a second season yesterday ^^;;

Anyway, I really want Tula and Bennet to smash. There is one more episode left and maybe it isn't too much to hope for >.>

[joel-millerr]

It All Makes Sense Now

Chapter Five of We Are One When Together (formerly A Mandalorian and a Smuggler)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.8K

Summary: The three of you land on Corvus to find a Jedi, but what starts out as a simple job is quickly turned into a truth you definitely weren’t prepared to face

A/N: okay sorry peeps but no smut in this one...I did say slow burn, right? hahahahaha. there's a bit of fluff towards the end, but this chapter focuses more on the reader's relationship with the force and their conflicting feelings, but it's not all bad, we have a special guest in the next two chapters! besides that... this basically a shit ton of angst. also, I split this chapter in two so the next update should be within the next week? 

Warnings: ummmm there’s a small mention of torture? (like in the ep the Jedi with the prisoners strung up outside the magistrate’s gate but other than that... I don't think there’s anything but pls tell me if there’s something I missed!)

-----

Your body jolts awake to the sudden drop out of hyperspace. Panic quickly sets into your blood as you try to get your bearings, but once you see Mando sitting quietly in his chair along with the Child sitting on the control panel just to his right, your heartbeat steadies, and a wave of relief washes over you. Using the heels of your palms to rub at your eyes and clear your vision, you catch sight of the planet Mando had mentioned just before takeoff on Tatooine through the transparisteel.

“Ah, good. You’re awake.” He addresses as he hears you stir, still keeping the visor glued to the view in front of him.

“Mmm,” You groan back, still somewhat asleep and unable to use your words to answer him properly.

“Corvus, this is the place,” Mando’s voice cuts through the gentle hum of the ship. “I’ve detected a beacon.” You’re about to answer him when you realize that he wasn’t even talking to you to begin with. He was talking to the kid.

The Child looks up at him, and coos as if they’re having a conversation with each other even though they clearly don’t speak the same language, and don’t understand what the other is saying.

“I’m gonna start the landing cycle. You better get back in your seat.”

He looks up again at Mando, but doesn’t budge from where he’s currently seated. Turning his gaze to one of the levers on the control panel, he stares at the durasteel ball just atop of the handle. You’re not sure why the kid loves that ball so much, but it clearly means a lot to him because you’ve seen the way he gets upset or fussy whenever Mando tries to take it away from him.

“Hey,” He warns—not in an aggressive way, but a stern way like a child being scolded by their parent. “What did I tell you? Back in your seat.”

This time the kid listens, letting out a chuff of air before crawling down the little ledge he was seated on previously and gently scuttling back to the seat to your left.  

Maker, your body aches. Sleeping in the chair every night has seriously done a number on your bones and muscles. Twisting your upper body and using the back of the chair to hold yourself in place, a series of smalls cracks echo through the cockpit, and it somewhat releases a bit of the tautness in your back and along your spine. Suddenly becoming aware that you haven’t taken a sanisteam in…well you’re not sure exactly how long it’s been since you left Tatooine, but it’s definitely been long enough; you could seriously benefit from one right now.

Using your palms to push yourself up to your feet by your knees, you inform Mando you’ll be heading down to clean yourself up. “I’ll be ready to go once we land.”

“All right.” He says matter-of-factly.

You wait a couple of seconds before moving, elongating your arms above your head before bringing one of them behind you and stretching out your bicep, holding your elbow with your other arm. You repeat the process with the opposite arm and feel your body slowly coming back to life. A sanisteam is starting to sound better and better with every second. Your feet guide you to the ladder and take two rungs at a time, feet hitting the ground in record time. Not even bothering to wait until you reach the fresher, you strip out of your clothes and gather them together in a small pile atop one of the crates lingering around in the hull.

Once in the fresher, you turn on the water to almost the hottest setting possible. It stings your skin at first, but your body quickly acclimates to the heat, muscles slowly relaxing in response to the gentle massage the showerhead exudes as it hits you, releasing the stiffness from your body. Truthfully, you could stay in this tiny space for hours and just let the water continue to cascade down your skin until your fingertips were wrinkled like a Dressellian prune, but you don’t want to use up all of the hot water since you’re not the only one on this ship who needs to sanisteam. The longer the water pressure falls onto your upper body, you begin to feel a sharp pain on your left shoulder, and you’re forced to recoil from the water in an effort to stop the throbbing ache. Inspecting your naked form to find the source of the discomfort, you notice a large, plump purple bruise nestled between the crook of your neck and the top of your shoulder. It’s a dark shade of purple, with swirls of yellow and forest green surrounding it. When the Kriff—

Oh.

It suddenly comes back to you.

The firm grip on your shoulder.

The feeling of Mando’s cock on your tongue.

His moans.

Fuck, it’s enough to make your own groan echo through the walls of the refresher.

Maker, pull yourself together!

Giving yourself a gentle slap on the cheek in an effort to knock those filthy thoughts out of your mind and knowing the Crest will be landing in the next couple of minutes, you quickly wash the grime off your body while trying to be mindful of your bruise, and rinse yourself off before grabbing your only remaining clean pair of clothes left, dressing hurriedly just as you hear his footsteps reach the top of the ladder. Your clothes stick to your wet skin, and it’s slightly uncomfortable, but you try not to pay too much attention to it; you’ll dry up eventually.

The Mandalorian descends the ladder, the Child burrowed in one arm, then hands him off to you as he heads to the armory to grab his pulse rifle.

“Hey,” He says before calling your name to get your attention. Turning his body towards you, his arm extends out in your direction, a blaster in his hand. Your eyes shift down to the gun, taking notice of it before your brows pull together tightly, shifting your gaze back up to him in confusion.

“You should probably take this back. Just in case,” He gestures the gun at you, holding the barrel of it so you can grab the handle. It’s a small act, giving you back your blaster, but there’s an unspoken message as he hands you your gun. He now trusts you enough not to shoot him and run off, and at the same time, this gives you the reassurance you needed that he no longer views you as just a quarry, but as his partner.

Putting the kid down for a moment to grab your bag and ruffle through it to retrieve your thigh holster, you strap it around your leg and plop the blaster into the pouch. Once you turn around to pick the Kid back up, you notice he’s already by the back ramp with Mando, both waiting for you to catch up with them.

You head down the ramp first, walking a few feet away from the Crest and taking an immediate scan of the area, as you always do whenever you’re in new territory. It comes at almost as a shock to you that Mando doesn’t instantly head down after you. Instead, he stays at the top of the ramp with the kid, waiting for you to give them the ‘okay’. The sun can barely penetrate the dense amount of cloud here, the area is covered in fog as far as the eye can see, making you shift anxiously. The faint cry of the native beasts’ boom in the distance, making your skin crawl.

Mando’s landed the Crest in a small clearing. The trees appear to be snags—lifeless due to its climate and the lack of sunlight, making the whole planet even more eerie. The quicker you meet the Jedi, the quicker you can get off this planet.

“Not much to see here,” You announce, slightly disappointed by the scenery. When you don’t immediately see a threat, you gesture with your hand that it’s safe to come down, and so he does. The fact that Mando now acknowledges the routine you’ve created isn’t lost on you. In truth, it makes your heart swoon because you both know that he doesn’t needto wait for you. Mando’s more than capable of checking for threats himself, and defending you both if someone tries to ambush you, but he knows it puts you at ease to check for yourself, and the fact that he’s indulging you in this small service shows you he’s more of a softy than he lets on.

As Mando walks towards you, he hears the kid huffing behind him and turns his body to face the little baby waddling down the ramp before falling back on his bum. You make out a small sphere in his hands and realize it’s the knob from the lever in the cockpit. When did he snatch that and how did Mando not see him take it?

“What did I say about that?” He disciplines, taking the ball from his hands and holding it out in front of him. “This needs to stay in the ship.” The Child looks up at him fondly, chattering incoherently as he watches Mando place the ball in his utility belt.

“Never had dealings with a Jedi before,” He admits before leaning down to pick up the Child and placing him in the makeshift pouch he designed for the baby that’s strapped across his cuirass. “Let’s head into town. See if we can pick up a lead.”

He walks ahead of you just by a couple feet. Your hand hovers over your blaster the entire time, body on edge as you both make your way through the forest. The air is hot and humid, almost suffocating—you can only imagine how hot Mando must feel under all that armor. Your clothes stick to you like glue, a mix of water from the sanisteam as well as from the damp air. Every now and then, the Child babbles nonsense and Mando answers him like he knows exactly what the kid is saying. “Don’t worry, Kid. We’re okay.”

It’s quite endearing, seeing such a gentle side to the Mandalorian. You know not many people have had the opportunity to see these little moments, making this that much more special. Watching two beings, appearing to have nothing in common, and clearly coming from two very different upbringings, but having such a deep connection you’re not sure you’ll ever fully understand is quite a beautiful sight. It makes you appreciate these moments so much more. Mando’s letting you in on these precious exchanges, and you’ll cherish them for as long as you live.

After walking for what feels like hours, off in the distance you catch sight of a giant wall made of duracrete, and can faintly make out little blobs at the top of the wall; soldiers by the looks of it.

“A fortified city?” You ask him.

“Seems like it.” He answers as you draw closer to the gates. “Let me do the talking, all right?” He says, more of an order than an actual statement, but you choose not to argue. Mando usually knows better than you, and you’ve shown that you have a tendency to lose your temper, therefore he’s definitely the better mediator between you two.

As you both appear from the edge of the forest, the guards atop the parapet flock to the front gate, their rifles pointed at you. Mando stops just a few metres shy of the gate, waiting. A man suddenly appears, studying you both.

“State your business.” He shouts, standoffish.

“Been tracking for a few days,” The Mandalorian begins to say. You continue studying the gunslinger as well as the other soldiers whose rifles are still pointed at you. Hand continuing to hover merely inches above your blaster, your body fighting the urge to turn this into a fight. “Looking for a layover.”

The man shifts his gaze between you and Mando, clearly debating whether or not to shoot you both where you stand.

“Nice armor.” He jests.

Kriff, you don’t like the look of this. You’re both severely outgunned, and despite the beskar amour Mando wears, that doesn’t guarantee that you’ll live through this if a fight ensues.

The man to your left doesn’t answer, opting to gauge the gunslinger’s demeanor, waiting for him to press you again. “You a hunter, then?”

“That’s right.”

“Both of you?” His stare turns to you, so you glare back at him, refusing to back down and cower under his own piercing scowl.

“Yes.” You hiss through gritted teeth.

The helmet turns slightly in your direction as if warning you to watch your tone. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you straighten out your shoulders and let your arm drop to your side, no longer hovering over your blaster.

“Guild?”

“Last I checked.” Mando answers, a glint of annoyance is hidden under the deepness of his baritone.

The man studies you two for a couple more seconds, then orders the guards to open the gate. Letting out a deep breath through your lips, you start to feel like this will be the beginning of a very tense day. Better to keep quiet and let Mando handle this, since you tend to shoot first then ask questions later. Your partner is much more of the level-headed one—who would have thought that?

The city itself is small, and very quiet—way too quiet for any normal city. Every city and village you’ve visited have been vibrant and loud, with native villagers and visitors mingling together, but here? The residents walk silently, keeping their heads down, and only peeking at you both through the corners of their eyes. The guards walk around, hands planted firmly on their rifles, as if to be looking for trouble. Immediately, your bones tense and that anger you have trouble controlling begins to bubble up inside you. These villagers seem trapped—Maker, even the kids aren’t running around. They’re stuck to their parents like glue, never taking a single step away from them. This is a city under a gruesome Magistrate.

As you make your way down the main road, Mando catches sight of a vendor and heads for their stand. “Pardon me, vendor, have you heard of anyone…” But as he draws closer to the elderly woman behind the table, they quickly turn their back to you and disappear down a quiet alley.

Eyebrows pulling tightly, your jaw clenches, completely astounded at how these people are too afraid to even talk to you. What kind of monster forces its citizens to live in constant fear to the point of being too afraid to speak to travelers?

Before you know it, you’re following the vendor down the alley when you see another elderly man bending down and whispering to some younglings. Your neck cranes to the side, and you walk over to him cautiously, hoping you won’t startle him.

“Excuse me,”

Once he catches you in his peripherals, he ushers the kids away before rising to his feet and turning his body to you.

“We need some information.” You announce, trying to keep your voice as gentle as you can despite the white-hot rage cooking up in your veins. “We’re looking for someone. Could you help—”

“Please,” he pleads as he holds a palm out in front of him to stop you from elaborating, voice quiet as to not draw any attention to himself. “Do not speak to any of us.”

“Look,” Mando interjects, his attitude becoming less patient as time ebbs on. “I just need to know—”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re approached by two armed guards. Your hand flies to your holster, and Mando quickly shoots his hand out to stop you.

“The Magistrate wants to see you.” Their voices come out heavily distorted by their voice-box. It’s deep and frightening—no wonder these villagers are terrified. Even you are somewhat taken aback by their aggressive inflection, you can only imagine how these people must feel. Completely helpless and cut off from the anyone else, they don’t have a fighting chance even if they wanted to overthrow their government.

The old man leans over and takes a step back as one of the guards takes a step towards him. Your body cuts the droid off, putting yourself between the both of you. They’re wearing what appears to be a gas mask, but you stare at him, imagining where his eyes would be and continue to burn your own eyes into him, full of poison and anger. Inside, you’re begging him to make a move; to give you an excuse to shoot him right where he stands, but Mando’s visor snaps towards you, shooting you a warning as to not do something stupid. “Let’s go.” He says to you.

You follow Mando and the first guard down the main street, keeping an eye out on that other guard that treads behind you. The soldier leads you to another gate and kriff, you’re completely dumbfounded by what’s in front of you.

Along the cobblestoned street just ahead of the second gate are…prisoners. Prisoners strung up on various poles with a tiny podium to stand on, surrounded by what looks to be some kind of electrical barrier around them. The hostages are disturbingly frail, with many of them scarred with markings of fresh and old burn wounds you assume are from the bars circling around them. One man nearly doubles over and is electrocuted, its power so strong you can see the outline of their bones when the voltage hits their skin. You shudder at the sight of them, feeling your heart drop to your stomach.

They whisper desperately, begging for help but Mando continues walking, only offering one of the prisoners a quick glance. You stop in front of one of the hostages, eyes looking up at him as he cries, pleading over and over again for your help. Your jaw slacks, wanting to say something, but knowing nothing you say will matter. You can’t help them, at least not right now. Making a mental note to tell Mando once you head back to the Crest that you will free these prisoners, your eyes meet with the man’s own droopy, hooded lids, and hope they somehow can understand.

“Hey, girl,” A guard yells out. Looking down at the ground, you hear his heavy footsteps walk towards you, each step getting louder and louder as he nears you. “Keep moving.” He warns.

Biting your tongue and white knuckling your fists at your sides, you catch up with Mando, choosing no longer to wait till you are alone to whisper, “We’re freeing these prisoners before we leave,” through gritted teeth.

Mando’s helmet dips forward just enough for you to see it. The faster you find this Jedi, the sooner these prisoners can be freed. Once the first gate closes behind you, the second one opens and your jaw downright drops.

Firstly, there’s a fucking moat in front of you. When you and Mando were walking through the woodland in search of the village, you hadn’t even come across any body of water, and here the Magistrate is living with a full-on fucking moat. If that wasn’t enough, Maker there are trees here—not just stumps or snag trees, but actual trees flourishing in her small haven. They appear to be some sort of pine tree, but you can’t be sure since you’re too far away from them. Somehow even the air feels different here. Logically, you know that makes no sense, but it must be due to the contrast between how the Magistrate lives compared to how her own people live. There are hostages strung up, and being tortured, citizens who are too scared to even talk to you, living in tiny homes with little to no resources, and this one person is living with such excess and wealth, all the while quite literally separating themselves from the city’s population. It’s disgusting, it’s totalitarian, and the thought of people living in such horrible conditions is making your head spin.

It’s not that you were naïve enough to think there weren’t people living in such awful conditions, it was just that you had never actually seen this firsthand, so it was easy to forget that not everyone was as fortunate as you. Sure, water was a luxury back when you were just a child, but you had never been oppressed or discouraged from being a child. You had the luxury of walking around the city, and not having the stress or fear that any minute now a guard could kill you for doing something as normal as talking to another person. Not knowing how many more planets are under such control, it makes you want to search this entire galaxy and save every single citizen from this kind of barbarity.

The Magistrate is standing by the edge of her moat, appearing to throw something in the water. Maker, if she has fish in this moat, you’ll be… literally fucking speechless.

She addresses Mando to come forward, so he does. You opt to stay by the gate—deciding that it’s would be too difficult to hide the anger on your face and choose to wait for him to return.

--

“So she wants you to kill the Jedi?”

“Yes.” He says before putting the Child down gingerly on a smooth boulder.

According to the Magistrate, the Jedi is hiding somewhere in the forest, so now you and Mando have been searching aimlessly through the vast amount of woodland for any sign of a Jedi—whatever what means, but after what felt like hours of searching, your feet were throbbing. After ten minutes of begging him to take a small break, he finally gave in.

Plopping yourself down next to the Child, you continue to pester Mando with more questions. “And she’ll give you that beskar staff if you kill them?”

A drawn-out sign emits from the helmet. “Yes.”

“But we’re not doing that, right?” The question coming out rhetorically.

“No.” He answers curtly.

“Okay, good.” The conversation goes silent for a few seconds, and then your lips are moving again. “I really want to head back in there and shoot that woman right between the eyes.”

A noise comes from him that you’ve never heard before. Was…was that a fucking laugh? Is he fucking laughing at you? “You wouldn’t even get that close before one of her droids would shoot you down.”

“Believe it or not, Mando, but I’m a pretty decent fi—”

All of a sudden, Mando turns his body to yours and throws a gloved hand over your mouth. A small yelp escapes you but is muffled by leather. Your own hand flies to his, struggling to remove his kriffing hand from your face, tugging and trying to pull away from him.

“Stop!” He whispers, before raising a finger to his helmet where his mouth would be, ordering you to be quiet. Giving him a nod, he lets go of you, and presses a button on the side of his helmet then pivots around, scanning the area for lifeforms. Off in the distance, a large beast trots along the forest edge and Mando’s body relaxes.

“False alarm,”

“What the hell, Mando?” You force out through jagged breaths.

“Why are you here?”

Both your bodies whip around and catch the sight of a female Togruta standing just a few metres away from you. Her blue stripped lekku are enlarged around her round face and extend all the way to her midthighs, giving an indication that she’s of a mature age, although her face is clean of wrinkles, her features still smooth, suggesting she’s still well within her prime. Thick montrals pointing towards the sky like mountain tops, her orange skin reminds you of Tatooine sunsets—warm, and deep. White pigments outlining her cheeks, forehead, and eyebrows, Maker, she is stunning, and intimidating.

In her hands, she’s holding what appears to be two beaming swords. Not unlike the electrical barrier that the Magistrate had her prisoners surrounded by, although this type of energy looks much more elegant and impressive. Its luminescent white light purrs, you can hear the humming even though you’re a couple metres away from her. You’ve never seen a weapon quite like it. It’s much more of sophisticated weapon than you’ve been privy to seeing, but it’s exceptionally beautiful.

“Ahsoka Tano?” Mando asks, holding his hands out in front of him, taking a very cautious step towards her. She tenses, one of the laser swords comes up and she holds it across her chest, keeping the other steadily by her side. Your hand placed firmly on your blaster strapped to your thigh, heart thumping in your chest, you wait for her to attack.

“Who are you?” She says cautiously, keeping that glowing spear between Mando and herself.

“Bo-Katan sent me.” He says warily.

The Togruta stares at Mando, then to you before straightening out her back, her weapons’ beaming white blades retracting into their handles.

“We need to talk.” Mando clarifies, standing up straight.

“Well, I hope it’s about them,” She answers kindly, shooting you a quick wink before taking a step towards you.

Crossing your arms and lips forming a tight line, your head jerks back when she responds.

“What do you mean, “them?”

Mando retreats to get the Child, and holds him with one arm, choosing to stand almost directly between you and Ahsoka. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Her posture changes from weary to inviting, hooking her weapons back on her hips, her back untensing and taking a step back. “Come.”

You and Mando follow her through the thick, dense woods, nearly tripping and twisting your ankle trying to avoid the roots that are nestled above the dirt, or stumps that have fallen over and are lying on the ground.

She finds a spot not too covered in trees, with a couple of boulders lying around in a circle. In the middle are embers from an old fire that you assume she made for herself. She sits down on one of the rocks, then you and Mando follow suit. He places the Child gently between himself and Ahsoka, and presses a button on his vambrace, causing a flame to shoot out from his wrist, reigniting the ashes. Instead of waiting for either of them to speak, you begin questioning Ahsoka.  

“So,” You say, head craning in her direction. “You’re a Jedi?”

Ahsoka lets out a small chuckle, eyes shifting towards the ground. You can vaguely make out the blaze in the reflection of her eyes. “No, I’m not a Jedi, not anymore.”

“Is there anything you can tell me about this little one?” Mando questions her, jerking his neck to the left where the green baby is perched between them. She turns her head towards the Child, and almost instantaneously, his giant ears perk up, big eyes peering up at her, uttering unintelligibly.

“Can I have a moment alone with him?” She asks you and Mando. He doesn’t say anything in response, but stands up straight and walks away, not once looking back. You’re a few seconds late, but finally rise to your own feet before taking one last look at Ahsoka. She smiles at you and nods. You hear her voice and at first believe she’s actually spoken to you, but quickly realize her lips haven’t moved.

It’s okay.

Surely, you’re imagining things. It’s not possible to hear someone’s voice so clearly in your mind unless they actually said something to you…right?

Pushing the thought out of your mind, you turn on your heel, and you walk over to where Mando is pacing back and forth. He’s quiet as usual, but his body language is screaming. He’s tense, boots retracing the same steps over and over, shoulders square and hands fidgeting by his thighs. The apprehension, his nervousness—it’s practically seeping from him. It’s not something you ever thought you’d see—Mando anxious about a situation, given that he’s usually a lot better at keeping his cool under pretty much every single stressful situation.

At first, you think about asking him if he’s okay, or showing him that you notice his tentativeness, but it’s quickly shoved out of your mind when you remember how little he likes to talk about himself or how he’s feeling. You know firsthand that he prefers to stay silent rather than admit what’s going on inside his head.

Choosing to sit on a tree stump that’s fallen over on the ground, you continue to study Ahsoka and the Child. They stare at each other for a couple minutes not saying anything, just offering each other a series of smiles, gazes, and tilts of the head. As you continue to watch them, it’s almost as if you can hear them, which you know logically makes no sense. It’s very faint and muffled, taking all the concentration you can muster but you swear to the Maker you can hear them speaking to each other. The harder you squint, the clearer their voices get. However, it’s when you close your eyes and pull your brows together tightly, giving them your full attention that their voices become almost as clear as day.

His name is Grogu.

He was raised at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

Order 66.

What’s order 66?

Before you can make out anything else, Ahsoka’s voice pulls you out of your concentration, calling you both over. Jumping to your feet in record time, you reach out and grab hold of Mando’s vambrace. He stills at your touch.

“Come,” You say gently, motioning your head over to the two by the fire.

The deep breath he lets out pulls rough from his vocoder, you can feel the trepidation in his body spilling into his lungs. He trails behind you and when you both reach them; you sit back down on the rock you were seated on before, but Mando chooses to stand instead.

“Has he…said anything? Do you…understand him?” He asks Ahsoka curiously, but with a hint of worry in his baritone.

“In a way. Grogu and I can read each other’s thoughts.”

“Grogu?” Mando’s voice is gentle but still low, and almost immediately, the Child’s ears perk up once again, and his little head jerks to face him, a gentle noise of glee escapes him.

“Yes,” Ahsoka says, smiling. “That’s his name, but you already knew that.”

“I—” He begins to say but Ahsoka cuts him off.

“No, not you. Her.”

Both Ahsoka and Mando’s head turn to you. Leg bouncing anxiously off the ground, your jaw slacks to answer, but not entirely sure how to answer. “Uh—Yeah, I mean he didn’t exactly tell me but he…kind of did?”

“What do you mean?” Mando presses you.

One of your hands rub the back of your neck and your eyes trail away from the two people staring you down to look at your feet. Clearing your throat, you answer uncertainly. “I…don’t know how he did it or how I was able to understand it.”

“Are you both still able to wield the Force?” Ahsoka asks curiously.

“The Force?” You repeat in confusion.

“You mean, his powers?” The Mandalorian chimes in.

“The Force is what gives him his powers. It’s an energy field created by all living things. It also allows us to communicate with each other.” She clarifies, somewhat answering your question but simultaneously confusing you even more. What the hell is ‘The Force’?

“You’re saying he used ‘The Force’ to communicate with me?”

“In a way, yes. We can communicate with others who are Force-sensitive, although it takes a great deal of training and discipline to wield it properly.”

Does this mean…?

Is she saying you’re…?

Force-sensitive?

Ahsoka sighs before addressing you again. “I sense a lot of conflict in you,”

“I’m just finding all of this very hard to believe,” You admit.

Ahsoka acknowledges your stunned expression with a gentle nod, before shifting the conversation towards the real issue—Grogu. Turning her eyes away from you, she now speaks to Mando. “Grogu was raised and trained by many Masters at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. At the end of the Clone Wars, when the Jedi were deemed traitors of the Republic, they were hunted down and killed. Grogu was smuggled out of the Temple beforehand, and has been forced to hide his abilities in order to survive over the years.”

Peeking over to observe Grogu, your heart aches. How could anyone want to harm him? He’s just a child, an innocent creature. “Do you know of anyone else like him?”

“I’ve only ever known one other being like this.” Her eyes trail off to gaze into the fire once again. “A wise Jedi Master named Yoda. I didn’t know others like him existed.”

“My task was to bring him to a Jedi. Can you train him?”

Ahsoka lets out a deep breath before answering. “The Jedi Order fell a long time ago.”

“So did the Empire, yet it still hunts us.” Your voice comes out more aggressive than you intended, but you’re desperate for answers.

Ahsoka looks down to the Child once again. His eyes flutter shut, exhaustion overcoming his little body until he all but bows his head to fall asleep. “Let him rest for now, I’ll test him in the morning.”

Mando’s helmet dips forward in agreement. He moves around the fire and makes his way over to Grogu and picks him up gingerly, holding him close to his cuirass and motioning his head in the direction of the Crest. Humming in response and rising to your own feet, you make to follow behind Mando back to ship when Ahsoka places a hand on your forearm.

“A moment?”

“Uh, sure,” You answer hesitantly. “I’ll meet you back at the ship.” You call over to Mando.

He huffs in response before walking away, Grogu fast asleep in his arms. Sitting back down, you wait for Ahsoka to speak.

“You’re troubled. I can sense it.”

Jaw dropping, you look for the words to accurately describe just how confused and in disbelief you are. Gesticulating around you, your voice is soft and low. “How—how is this possible?” A laugh escapes your lips. “I’m just a mecha—smuggler.” You catch yourself, the word barely leaving your lips. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

Her own lips form a tight line, as if she’s seen others react the same way. “It’s unclear how the Force works, and there’s no definitive way of explaining who has the gift and who hasn’t. We’re just…burdened with it.” Her eyes look down at the ground. It’s evident there’s some unresolved regret and sadness she’s been carrying for years, and you can’t help but wonder what could have possibly happened to her for her to feel this way.

“You said ‘I’m not a Jedi, not anymore’. What did you mean by that?”

She takes a deep breath, exhaling through her nose before speaking. “I left the order when I was young. It… wasn’t what I thought it was anymore.” Her voice trails off.

“What was it supposed to be? Who were the Jedi?” You don’t mean to ask so many questions, but there are so many pieces to this puzzle that you don’t understand yet. You’re supposedly predestined to be a Jedi, but you know nothing about them. Stories of the Jedi weren’t told to you when you were a child. It was treated more like a moment in history that no one wanted to speak of—like it was a stain on the galaxy that the majority of folks wanted to forget.

“We were trained to be keepers of the peace, but that all changed when the Clone Wars began. Jedi were suddenly soldiers and thrown into battle, required to fight for the Republic and keep the Separatists from expanding.”

“You fought?”

Ahsoka’s voice is low, like your question that thrown her back into the war, reliving all the pain from her youth. “I was just a Padawan when I joined the war effort. At first it was easy to say we were fighting to maintain the peace, but after a while, it almost felt like we became the ones raging the war. All of a sudden, the Order just didn’t feel like it once was…” She goes quiet for a moment, trying to find the right words to describe her conflicting feelings. “It changed.”

Your hand reaches out to hold hers. Once your skin touches her, immense pain overwhelms you. It’s haunting, a sudden hole fills your body with anger, regret, sadness. There’s a male voice, low and threatening, taunting her as he hisses.

Why did you leave?

You abandoned me!

Do you know what I’ve become?

Hand recoiling away, your left with the same empty feeling as her. It’s unnerving, experiencing something that hasn’t even happened to you yet somehow able to feel it so deeply, as if you know who this man is, but it gives you an insight as to just how tortured she must be feeling, and why she’s alone on this planet.

“Who…who was that?” Your voice is strained, shuddering out little breaths.

“Someone who meant a great deal to me.” Ahsoka’s face softens immediately, a somber smile develops on her lips, losing that hard, stoic demeanor she’s kept up in front of you and Mando. “An incredibly skilled Jedi Knight. He was my Master.”

“What happened to him?”

Ahsoka’s lungs fill with air, and she takes her time exhaling before answering you. “He fell to the Dark Side…” Her voice breaks up at the end, and clears her throat, giving the impression that she feels guilty about it, while also trying to regain control of her emotions.

Despite hearing the term ‘Dark Side’ for the first time, you almost instantaneously know what it is. The voice that creeps into your mind, the one that feeds off your anger and emotions, the one that scratches the inside of your brain, hissing to cause harm and feed the deepest parts of yourself that you despise. It all makes sense now.

“I sense it within you.” Her voice barely above a whisper, but clear enough to make your skin crawl. It’s a truth you didn’t know you had been dreading to hear. A truth you yourself had tried to ignore. The part of you that you hated most, finally being noticed by a complete stranger, it triggers something deep inside you, almost confirming your worst fears. You’re a danger, not only to yourself but to anyone around you. It’s suddenly as clear as day why you’ve tried to keep your distance from those you loved ever since your parents’ death. Why you never allowed yourself the luxury of attachments or love. Somehow, you knew that in order to keep yourself and others safe, you needed to put a barrier up, a wall to stop yourself from hurting others.

“I…don’t know how to control it.” Desperation in your voice, it becomes obvious that you’re both struggling to find solace.

“You should get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning, okay?” Attempting to put you somewhat at ease, she offers you a smile, although her eyes show you anything but contentment. There’s a sadness in them, like she already knows your fate but is unsure of the proper way of confessing it to you.

Nodding your head slowly, you push yourself to your feet and make a beeline for the Crest. Ahsoka stands, watching you drag your feet back to the ship, then disappears through the fog, and back into the forest.

When you reach the back ramp of the ship, the lights are dimmed to the lowest setting, your legs almost collapsing once you reach the hull from all the trekking throughout the day. Leaning over to the side of the ramp, you press a button on the board by the door and the ramp creaks shut.

The Crest is deafeningly quiet. As you make your way deeper into the ship, you observe Grogu sleeping soundly in his little hammock inside Mando’s bunk. Making sure not to make too much noise on the ladder, you gently head up to the cockpit and find Mando sitting in the pilot’s chair, unsure if he’s sleeping or simply sitting there like a statue which you’ve noticed he’s does from time to time. Upon entering the cockpit, you sigh a little loudly, testing to see if he’s awake.

Practically falling into your seat, you know you should get some sleep, but the mental exhaustion is almost too intense, you can’t seem to get your mind off everything that’s happened. Continuously mulling over what Ahsoka’s said, noting how it makes perfect sense, but not wanting to accept it.

“Are you…all right?” Mando asks you timidly, the deepness of his tone cutting through the low hum of the dimmed lights.

The question bounces around in your mind.

Are you all right?

Just under a couple of hours ago, you had never even heard of ‘The Force’, let alone supposedly have a connection to this intangible entity. Of course, there are things that you’ve done that you couldn’t logically explain, but does that necessarily mean you suddenly have some greater purpose? That you’re this…peacekeeper with an obligation to protect others?

Did your parents know?

Did they keep this a secret from you in order to protect you or were they just as in the dark as you were about this?

Everything you thought you knew about yourself is once again being challenged.

Mechanic.

Smuggler.

Quarry.

Jedi?

How are you supposed to navigate through this? Ahsoka said herself the Jedi were basically wiped out right as the Empire rose to power. What does that mean for you? Is the Empire hunting you down because you’re ‘force-sensitive’?

Certainly, it would be easier to simply put this all behind you. Help Mando with Grogu and then go your separate ways, ignoring what Ahsoka’s told you about being connected to The Force.

Do what you must in order to stay alive.

Keep to yourself just as you’ve always done, and survive.  

But…is that the right thing to do? How does one know if the path they’re on is the correct one? It’s not like there’s someone all knowing that you can ask, or seek help from. The only thing you can do is trust your own instincts, go over each possibility and examine them meticulously, and pray to the Maker that you’ll be drawn to one option more than another.

Remembering that Mando’s just asked you a question but not remembering exactly what it was, you hum in your throat. “Hmm?”

Mando swivels his chair around to face you. “Are you all right?”

“It’s funny how we can here for the kid, and now I’m the one having some kind of existential crisis.” Your tone is wry, the ability to mock yourself never waving.

“Yeah.” He answers coolly, probably just because he doesn’t know what else to say. Mando’s not really one to comfort or coddle, unless it’s Grogu but that doesn’t bother you so much. Mando is the way he is, and you wouldn’t change a thing about him.

Before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re rising to your feet, word vomit expelling from your lips.

“I’ve lived my whole life not knowing where I belong. Navigating through various routes, trying to find my purpose and what I’m supposed to be doing, and I was fine with smuggling. I know it wasn’t honorable or strictly legal, but it made me feel better about my place in the galaxy. It felt better than being a mechanic on some rotten planet because at least I was seeing what the galaxy had to offer me, right? But it still couldn’t fill this empty pit I felt in my stomach.” Your breathing is erratic, chest pumping in and out as your heartbeat races.

“And I dealt with that. I did things I regretted but I never allowed myself to dwell on those things because I knew what I had to do in order to survive. Then out of nowhere I’m being hunted by what I thought was the New Republic but oh no surprise!” Your voice becoming almost hysterical, empty laughs punching out of you through jagged breaths. “It’s actually the Empire! Because I now apparently have some connection to an entity that exists in a form that I don’t even understand and have never heard of.

“All the while, I have this voice inside my head that fucking eats away at me. ‘Do this’ and ‘Make them feel pain’, ‘Hurt them like they hurt you’. It’s fucking gnawing at my brain, and I have no fucking idea how to control it or get it to stop. I feel like a monster, like some evil being that will one day just explode and hurt anyone in my path, and it fucking terrifies me because I can’t control it. I can’t fucking control it, Mando.” Your voice is hoarse, speaking so fast your lungs can’t keep up with you, only allowing yourself quick breaths as you begin to feel yourself hyperventilate.

Mando rises to his feet ever so slowly, visor glued to you as you continue to explode.

“What am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to follow down the path of being a Jedi despite not knowing a single fucking thing about them? You heard what Ahsoka said about them. They were almost all wiped out.”

Your hands fly to your face, squeezing your eyes shut so hard, you’re seeing stars, and rubbing the heels of your palms into your skin. Completely overwhelmed by everything, you just want to disappear.

Then, you feel rough, sturdy gloves wrap around your wrists, and gently pulling at them, freeing your hands away from your face. When you finally open your eyes, all you see is Mando’s helmet, the ‘T’ of his visor looking down at you. He doesn’t let go of your wrists, just continues to hold them gingerly, even pulling them towards his chest. You take a step towards him, standing merely inches away from each other. He says nothing, but truthfully, he doesn’t need to. Holding you steady is all he needs to do in order to calm you down. Your breathing is slowly starting to regulate itself, even though your mind is still shouting at you.

Hearing a soft exhale emit through the helmet, Mando speaks quietly and softly. “You’re not a monster.”

“But—”

“We’ve all done things we regret.” He tells you softly. “What matters is that you regret it, which means you’re not a monster, because they don’t regret anything they’ve done.”

Your head dips downward, letting out a deep breath through slightly parted lips, as you begin shaking your head. “What if I hurt you or the kid one day?”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know—”

“I do,” He says firmly, leaving you no more room to argue.

When you finally look up into the black eye slit of his helmet, you wish you were looking into his eyes. To see him looking back at you would be a blessing right now, but you know better than to ask him to take it off. You don’t know much about Mandalorians, but from the one you do know, he never takes his helmet off, and you wouldn’t dare ask him to break his creed just for you. So, this will have to do.

“Get some sleep.” He says then releases your wrists, letting them fall to your sides.

“I’m not tired,” You mumble.

“Yes, you are.” He argues. “Use the cot downstairs.”

“But that’s where you sleep.”

He turns away from you, sitting back in the pilot’s chair and swiveling it around so you’re facing the back of the seat. “I’ll sleep here. Now, go.”

He leaves no room for argument, and honestly? Finally being able to sleep lying down and not sitting upright in a chair does sound amazing. You head down the ladder without another word, feeling the sudden exhaustion hit you hard. Grogu’s still sound asleep in his hammock, and you wiggle into the tiny sleeping space, being mindful not to touch the hammock or make too much noise that might wake him up, gently pressing on the button on the panel near the door and hearing it woosh shut. Your nostrils fill up instantly with Mando’s smell. Notes of beskar, musk, and his soap fill your sinuses and you take a deep, burning breath, trying to inhale as much Mando as you can in one breath. The voices in your head are still chattering away, but being bundled up in Mando’s blanket and his smell is enough for you to push those noises away and fall asleep to the sound of the Child’s gentle snores.

--

Grogu’s training begins in the early morning. You’re all gathered around the same place you were last night, but there’s definitely more tension than there was the night before. For starters, you basically had a mental breakdown in front of Mando last night, and you’re feeling pretty guilty and embarrassed about it. You should have been able to keep your emotions in check and under control, but instead you blew up in front of the one person you didn’t want to blow up in front of.

Secondly, today you’ll all be seeing Grogu’s abilities firsthand, and find out just how much training he’s had and what he’s fully capable of doing, and it’s pretty easy to tell that Mando is nervous. The way he carries himself; back tense and his hands balled into fists at his sides, shifting uncomfortably as he watches Grogu stand on a rock just a few feet away from Ahsoka. You’re standing to his right, nerves and curiosity radiating off your skin.

“Let’s see what knowledge is lurking in that little mind of yours, shall we?” She says to Grogu before turning her head to you both. Clearing your throat, you nod in acknowledgement while Mando stays stiff as a board.

She reaches down and picks up a small stone off the ground and holds it out in front of her chest. Looking down at the rock and watching her eyes squint, it suddenly lifts out of her palm and stays in limbo for a moment before she uses her hand to push it towards Grogu. It flows over so slowly in his direction, his little arms reaching out and grabbing it with both hands. You stand there, completely stunned, eyes wide-shot and jaw practically hanging. It’s something you’ve been able to do as well, but only during bouts of anger or in the middle of a fight.  

“Now, return the stone to me, Grogu,” She instructs, her voice gentle but commanding all the same.

His head tilts to the side, continuing to hold it firmly with his claws.

“He doesn’t understand what you’re saying,” Mando blurts out.

“He does.” She reassures him, holding her hand out and gently coaxing Grogu once again to hand her the rock. “The stone, Grogu.”

The Child gurgles, then drops the stone in a chuff of defeat. A drawn-out sigh releases from Mando’s helmet, somewhat irritable, but not fully angry.

Ahsoka approaches Grogu, leaning down to pick up the stone he’s dropped and taking his tiny hand in hers. Her head dips forward and whispers, “I sense much fear in you, little one.”

Grogu coos in response, his big eyes blinking slowly. She flashes him a kind smile and takes a couple steps back, cocking her head to one side as she ponders her next move. Ahsoka’s eyes meet yours for a second and just when they meet, it’s almost like you both come up with the same idea. Grogu needs a different kind of enticement, a more personal incentive.

“Let’s try something else,” She says. “Come here.”

Mando looks over to the Child and motions with his head for him walk over to meet Ahsoka. When he looks over to the Mandalorian with a puzzled look, Mando sighs again. “He’s stubborn.”

Unable to hide the smile on your face, you shake your head just as Ahsoka lips curl upwards. “Not him, you.” She says, looking at him.

Mando hesitates at first, so you grab hold of his forearm and almost usher him in Ahsoka’s direction. “I want to see if he’ll listen to you,” She says curiously.

Mando scoffs, and the sound comes out scratchy and low through the vocoder. “That would be a first.”

Handing Mando the stone, she instructs him to hold it in his palm, open faced and tell Grogu to lift and take the rock. He stands there awkwardly, shifting a bit, clearly a little uncomfortable but in an endearing way. You smile from ear to ear, watching Mando be so confused but approaching this in a gentle way that you know almost no one has been privy to witnessing. It tugs at your heartstrings, observing father and son.

He lets out a deep breath before following Ahsoka’s direction. “Okay, kid. Lift the stone.”

“Grogu,” You clarify, still smiling.

He whips his head to face you then back to the Child.

“Grogu,”

The Child’s ears perk up instantly hearing Mando’s voice call him, cooing excitedly. “Take the stone.”

Looking at the rock, Grogu babbles and then looks at the ground defeatedly.

“See?” Throwing the stone on the ground in annoyance, Mando looks over to where you and Ahsoka are standing. “I told you, he’s stubborn.”

You and Ahsoka turn heads to look at each other, knowing damn well it’s not because the kid is stubborn, but because Mando is stubborn. Keeping an emotional type of distance between him and every person in the galaxy, never allowing himself to make a meaningful connection.

“Try to connect with him,” Ahsoka chimes.

Mando studies Grogu, possibly trying to gauge a reaction or an insight as to what he wants. His gloved hands come up to grasp onto his utility belt and then you notice him fiddle with his belt and flesh out the metal knob from the lever of the Crest. Both you and Mando know just how much that durasteel ball means to Grogu, and if there’s one thing in this galaxy that the kid absolutely loves and wants at all times, it’s that ball.

Sure enough, as soon as he sees Mando with the ball in his hand, his ears perk up immediately and giggles of joy rush out of him. Mando bends his knees, crouching down so that he’s at eye level with him, holding the ball between his fingers, enticing the downright giddy baby just a few feet away from him.

“Grogu,” His tone is playful, and it shocks you. He’s never spoken that way around you. Mando has a monotone way of speaking, maintaining a level tone, or an annoyed tone. Never speaking in a playful or humorous manner. To see him show this kind of vulnerability must be hard for him, especially in front of Ahsoka who he’s known for half a day, but Mando knows this isn’t about him, this is for Grogu, and he’ll do whatever it takes for the kid.

“Do you want this?”

The Child fixates on the ball, arms reaching out in front of him, almost begging for it, but Mando continues to tempt him, speaking low but tender, as he urges Grogu to take it. “Well, go ahead. Go on, take it. You can do it.”

Maker, it takes everything in you not to scream. The way Mando continues to coax him, the way Grogu coos and looks at him so lovingly, it’s enough to break hearts. A relationship borne of hunter and quarry turned father and son. Something so rare, so genuine. To think that these two beings don’t even speak the same language yet have an attachment so fierce and pure.

Eyes squinting in concentration, Grogu’s hand reaches out just a little further and then the ball flies from Mando’s hand right into the Child’s little grip.

“Good job!” Mando exclaims, pure joy and full of proudness. Your mouth falls into a toothy grin as you watch him approach the Child and continue to affirm how proud he is. Looking over at Ahsoka and expecting to see her smiling, your face quickly changes when you take notice of her expression. She’s looking down at the ground, not a speck of joy on her face. In fact, she looks defeated, like she’s just witnessed something awful. Eyebrows pulling together, you give her a nudge with your elbow, asking what’s wrong without actually asking what’s wrong.

“I knew you could do it. Very good,” Mando continues to praise.

“He’s formed a strong attachment to you,” She says before her lips press into a thin line.

“Is that a bad thing?” You question. Taking a step towards Mando and away from Ahsoka, and crossing your arms against your chest, your head cocks to one side waiting for her to explain.

“I cannot train him.”

“What?” Mando straightens out immediately and turns his body to face her. “You’ve seen what he can do, right?” He asks curtly, a hint of underlying anger in his vibrato.

“His attachment to you makes him vulnerable to his fears—his anger.”

“All the more reason to train him.”

“No,” She grits out through her teeth. “I’ve seen what such feelings can do to a person. What it can do to even the best of the Jedi Knights. I will not start this child on that path. Better to let his abilities fade.”

You take a step back; a sneer escapes your lips as you try to understand what the hell she’s saying. “Let his abilities fade? Look at him. You can’t just give up on him.”

She looks down at Grogu who’s too busy examining the ball in his hands to notice the three of you arguing. Giving you both a quick glance, Ahsoka shakes her head. “I’ve delayed too long. I must head back to the village.” She turns on her heel and begins walking away from you two when Mando gets her attention.

“The Magistrate’s asked me to kill you.”

Ahsoka freezes, turning her body slowly towards you, hands making their way to the weapons strapped around her waist.

“I didn’t agree to anything.” Mando clarifies.

Uncrossing your arms, you take a tentative step towards her. “We’ll help you free the village, but at the very least, Grogu,” You point a finger in Grogu’s general direction, “needs training.”

She clamps down on her jaw, eyebrows knitting together as she mulls over the proposition.

“Fine, but we hit the city tonight.”

-------

I hope y'all liked the way I wrote ahsoka...I completely ignored how she looked in the mandalorian and based her appearance off the “Overlords” ep of tcw and changed the way her character was because I wasn't really a fan of how she was written. 

[literaryfic]

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: 빈센조 | Vincenzo (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong/Hong Cha Young Characters: Hong Cha Young, Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, vincenzo leaves, set five years after he left sk, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, vincenzo and cha-young are exes, they were in a relationship before, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jealousy, Exes, Getting Back Together, Not Canon Compliant, i wrote this before ep 20, Canon-Typical Violence, Smut

Summary: Oh, how Cha-young wishes she could forget the past five years. Now that her anger has faded, she remembers clearly why she sealed herself in it; after anger comes sorrow, something she’s not sure she can overcome.

And just like the never-ending revolution of the Earth around the Sun causes the perpetual change of seasons — when flowers bloom after the frost melts and Spring follows Winter —, Cha-young finds herself knocking on Vincenzo’s door. They were two supernovas meant to collide and, although Cha-young wasn’t quite sure whether the impact would annihilate them or create a new form of life, she didn’t care.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Park Joo-hyung?”

He opens the door, letting her in. She marches on, the door closing in a thump behind her. She turns to face him, his jaw is set. Both of them follow the familiar steps of a tango they’ve danced before, playing the part of an opera they know the end to.

“How dare you threaten and intimidate someone close to me?” She screams.

“Is that what he told you? Did he mention the phone call—”

“This has nothing to do with your behaviour!”

“Of course it fucking has, Cha-young-ah” Vincenzo is losing his temper too, and for the first time since they’ve met again, he’s yelling.“That bastard’s cheating on you, for fuck’s sake! Did you just expect me to pretend I didn’t hear anything? I thought you said we should be friends. That’s what friends do.”

“Whether he’s cheating on me or not, that’s none of your business. And I take it back, I don’t want to be your friend, I don’t want to be your anything. Leave me alone.” Cha-young’s index finger is pointing at him, and suddenly she realises how close they’ve gotten in the heat of their argument. She’s flushed, anger shading her cheeks red.

“You’re the one who came to me.” He whispers.

She can feel his breath on her face, and it’s taking everything in her to not look at his lips. His intoxicating scent is making her feel dizzy. She bites the inside of her cheek, the sharp pain bringing her back to her senses. She takes a step back.

“Because you think you can just waltz into my life as you please, Vincenzo.” She’s not looking at him anymore, the edge in her voice softened.

“If that were true, we both know very well that your little boyfriend would be dead by now.” His lips curl. His tone might be playful but she’s not sure he doesn’t mean it.

He’s looking at her and Cha-young knows he’s trying to make peace. He’d never liked to argue with her in the past, and he especially hated screaming matches. To everyone else, Vincenzo was intransigent, intimidating or even frightening. However, during their relationship, and although he’d been stubborn, he’d always been strangely compromising. She started the fights and he ended them. He would crack a joke, apologise and kiss her hand. He would burrow his face in her neck, wrap his arms around her waist and mouth ‘Forgive me’ against her skin. She’d feign resistance until he’d start tickling her. Then, they’d laugh together, forgetting about why they fought in the first place.

Oh, how Cha-young wishes she could forget the past five years. Now that her anger has faded, she remembers clearly why she sealed herself in it; after anger comes sorrow, something she’s not sure she can overcome. Submerged by a wave of melancholy, she can’t hold back the truth anymore.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Vincenzo’s eyes widen, he’s stunned. A few seconds pass, and it doesn’t look like he’s going to say anything, so she goes on. “I lied. I’m here with my employees, he’s my personal assistant.”

Finally, the weight of her words strikes him. “Why did you lie to me?” He asks quietly, his face unreadable. Was it so foolish of her to search for relief in his eyes?

She swallows the lump in her throat. “What, so you could see how pathetic I was without you?”

There it is.

In a few seconds, the man she loved would realise she’d always been nothing more than an empty shell on the shore, discarded by the seas. All her life, Cha-young had been abandoned by the people she cherished. Whether it was intentional or not, it seemed that no one stuck around for long. Contrary to what one might think, her father had been the first one to go. He’d stayed out late, prioritised his clients over his family and avoided them. Then, her mom had gone, her loss altering Cha-young’s life and identity so profoundly she had began to think of herself as split in two — pre-death Cha-young, the one who had been naïve and hopeful, and post-death Cha-young, the jaded and bitter adult who had designed her life around self-preservation. Later, when her dad passed away, abandoning her for the second time, she had promised herself that she wouldn’t let anyone leave ever again. She had wanted to protect those around her: the tenants, Babel’s victims’ families, the innocent.

Slowly, her partnership with Vincenzo turned into something deeper, into something more. She’d prepared herself, readying her heart; he would leave soon. But everything changed when he sealed the promise of forever with a kiss— or so she thought. Cha-young realised a heartbeat too late that she had mistaken an oath of love for an act of war; she had taken him prisoner, put him in shackles and thrown away the key.

Odysseus, the legendary hero set on an epic journey, had accidentally landed on Ogygia, and Calypso, the troubled nymph, had fallen in love with him. How could she not, when he was strong and beautiful, and she was lonely in her exile? She had held him captive as long as she could, but she had no claim over him, and the devastating sadness she had felt after he had escaped was laughable. He had deserted her, the last remains of their love piercing her heart like shards of glass.

“You’re not pathetic.” Vincenzo said firmly, interrupting her thoughts.

Cha-young turned away from him. “Drop it.”

“No. None of this is your fault, Cha-young-ah.” He closed the distance between them, and she could feel him right behind her. “I wanted to tell you later but— I legally changed my name to Park Joo-hyung. Wanna know why?”

“Because it was obnoxiously hard to pronounce?” Her attempt at diversion doesn’t work.

Instead, Vincenzo grips her arms and presses his forehead against her shoulder blades. She’s still not facing him, compelling herself to not look at him or touch him or feel him against her.

“I hated it so much that just hearing it made me sick. I hated myself, Cha-young-ah. Not because of the murders, the torture or all the atrocities I’ve committed— no.” He laughs wryly. “It’s because of what I did to you. Leaving you is the one sin I can’t seem to forgive myself for. And that is pathetic.”

She holds her breath. One. Two. Three. She faces him. Red eyes, hollow cheeks, desperation carving deep lines on his forehead. He looks like a tormented devil.

“What do you want, Vincenzo?” Cha-young whispers, an echo of the past.

Slowly, he locks his eyes on her. Those eyes, she thinks, they’re back.

“To repent.”

One. Two. Three. Cha-young grabs his face and kisses him. At first, Vincenzo stays still, hesitant. She’s about to break the kiss, reality catching up to her, when he opens his mouth and slips his tongue in hers. His hands grip her waist, bringing her closer, bringing her in. Her heart is beating so loudly she can’t hear herself think — or maybe she gave up on thoughts, and now she only feels. She feels him flush against her, she feels his hands; they burn her, leaving the imprint of him all over her body. God, how she had missed him.

There is no romance between them, only a visceral need to possess each other again. Soon enough, they’re on the bed, Cha-young on his lap, her hands pulling his hair so hard he hisses. Vincenzo bites her lower lip as retaliation and she rolls her hips against his erection, staring at him. He moans, head thrown back. Cha-young’s right hand cups his jaw firmly, making sure he’s looking at her. She wants to watch him fall apart, unravel under her touch.

“Take off your clothes.” What she asks, he does — rather awkwardly, she has to move off of him as he gets up, discarding his clothes on the ground without a care. He gets back on the bed from which she’d been watching him strip, lying next to her, completely naked. Their five years apart have somehow made him hotter, his upper body more toned, his biceps firmer. She counts a total of six or seven new scars, one of them still pink-ish and swollen. She reaches out, her finger following the gash running from his navel to his lower abdomen. He gasps when she doesn’t stop where the scar does — she continues on her way, surely, and takes him in her hand.

Vincenzo’s heavy breathing guides her movements, telling her when to stroke faster, when to slow down, when to twist. She stops right before he’s about to come, and the frustration in his eyes turns her on more than anything her last fling ever did.

“Don’t stop.” He asks, going in for a kiss.

Cha-young puts her hand on his mouth, “Tonight, I’m in charge, Joo-hyung-ah.”

His eyes light up and he smiles, “Yes, ma’am.”

Slipping out of her dress in no time, she climbs on top of him, taking his hands in hers and putting them above his head. There’s something thrilling about having him at her mercy, vulnerable under her. He’s hard against her thigh, and although he’s not talking, she hears his silent plea. Slowly, she sits on his cock, savouring the pleasant stretch; he feels so good, and her so full, at last.

“Oddio!” On his lips, God’s name becomes a curse.

She keeps a slow pace, it takes time to revisit a long-lost lover after all. She rolls her hips, turns, bounces. Once she’s figured out how to pleasure herself, she moves faster. Closing her eyes, she frees his left hand and puts it on her breast. Vincenzo is nothing if not an eager disciple trying to prove his worth, and so he caresses her enthusiastically, his thumb brushing against her hardened nipple. What a good boy, she thinks, before pressing her body against his, engulfing him in a kiss.

His hand finds her hair, cascading down her naked back. She kisses him everywhere — his lips, his cheeks, his neck. She needs to have him whole, to consume all of him, so she can keep him in her forever. She feels a familiar warm building up inside of her, but she’s not ready for it to be over yet. She stops bouncing on him abruptly and his eyes fly open, irked. She intertwines their fingers, and whispers, “Look at me.” Once again, he obeys her command, his eyes roaming her face, her breasts, her thighs. They go up and down, taking her in, devouring her. She feels hot under his gaze, and she picks up the pace. He parts his mouth, whimpering faintly. He thrusts back into her hard, and they find the right rhythm. Soon enough, Cha-young is there, right there, a white-hot flash of pleasure overwhelming all her senses.

“Cazzo!” He must have come too then. Fuck, indeed.

Cha-young is still on top of him, Vincenzo still inside of her. She rests her head against his chest, their flushed skin sticky with sweat. He’s playing with her hair absentmindedly, still trying to catch his breath. She looks up at him, and they kiss again, but this time it’s different. She feels it all, his longing, how much he’s missed her, how scared he is that this is all a dream. In this moment, she can’t tell where she ends and where he starts. She’s never been closer to him, never understood him as much as she does now.

Were the tears on her lips hers or his? The time for questions will come later, right now there’s only them, together — an ever-lasting moment they stole from the Fates.

[jq37]

The Case File – Mice and Murder Ep 4

The Case of the Puzzling Painting 

Welcome back to Loam Hall where our Sylvan Sleuths are still hanging out in a room with a dead body. When we left off, Gangie had been snooping into Sly’s conversation about Fletcher Cottonbottom and now, he uses his Criminal Contacts feature to see what he knows, if anything, about a recent return. With a 26 he knows that his family used to be well respected but after the whole business with the insurance fraud and Sly busting it, the family kind of fell out of favor. So Fletcher was in a weird position where he was rich and a part of high society and had enough dirt on everyone to get them to do things for him but couldn’t actually show his face because he was disgraced. Gangie also knows that it’s rumored that Fletcher’s weapons running scheme was actually a front for moving art. 

With regard to more recent news about Fletcher, Gangie was never in direct contact with him but he knows that 3-4 years ago, his most trusted henchmen started going missing--people attributed it to some kind of “Cottonbottom Curse” and that rumor is part of why Gangie decided to get out of dodge in the first place.

Buck does an insight check on the rest of the PCs and, with an 18, doesn’t clock anyone there as especially suspicious (Lars isn’t there but like..it’s Lars). Ian tries to give Squire Badger his last rites but ends up pulling the knife out, putting it back in, flapping blood everywhere with his feathers, and sending Constance into a badger rage. Buck tries to help smooth over things, claiming his big screw up was a new style of avant garde church ritual (Ian appreciates the support--who ministers to the ministers, you know?) and in the process sees his knife for the first time. Which, you know. He obviously suspected before but never nice to see.

While this is going on, Daisy sneaks off to try and check on the secret door and everyone sees her do it/eventually follows her but we’ll get back to her once we check in with Lars who is en route to the kitchen. Once in the hallway, they do a perception check and, on a 15, there are 3 doors and Ally gets to pick one. There’s a kitchen where Gilfoyle is talking to a group, a door where someone is crying behind it, and a door where they can hear nothing. Ally, the galaxy brained genius, goes for the quiet door. That’s the money door and with their ears pressed against the door, they can hear Edwina and Carolyn--the two mice maids that overheard Buck’s conversation with the Badger--whispering about what happened there and wondering if they should pay back the money they were paid to by Buck.

Gilfoyle walks out and sees Lars snooping but on a Nat 20 deception check, Lars is able to play dumb and skate by suspiciousness. Also, with a dirty 20 perception check, when the mice maids leave, Lars sees that they’ve been stealing silverware. 

OK, back to Daisy who is getting to the séance room as quickly as possible. She has two rounds before people catch up to her so she’s trying to make the most of it by Investigating the painting she noticed was bolted to the wall earlier. She first rolls an 11, getting no new information. This is so frustrating to her. She’s good at this dammit! But being around Sly is rattling her terribly. She has feelings for him--strong ones. But she isn’t herself around him. How can she be with him if he makes her so unlike herself? Her introspection is enough to earn her advantage from Brennan on her second roll and boom! 25! Daisy is back. 

With that roll, she notices that the eyes in the painting actually move and can be used as a spying post on the other side. Then Sly runs in and they start bickering immediately. Daisy throws a crystal ball at him and absolutely brains him on a nat 20--the first combat roll of this very RP oriented season. 

Buck and Ian are still in the room with the body for the moment and Buck asks Ian about the first few names on the list Gangie gave him. There were a bunch of members of the Burrows family--a working class family that all died of a consumptive illness. And then the Diggories who died in a carriage accident. The connecting thread? All badgers. Buck then zooms away to follow Daisy, Ian follows, and Lars, seeing them as they leave the kitchens, also follows. 

So all the PCs are in the séance room now and they kinda have the sense of, “OK y’all, we’re all screwed but we’re al screwed together so we better throw our lot in with each other and start working together so we don’t die because no one else here is on our side.” Buck proposes an alliance and they all agree to share info. Sly asks about Buck’s knife and Buck admits it’s his but says he didn’t do it. Sly believes him--not because he wouldn’t do it but because he has no motive (that he knows about anyway. Buck doesn’t spill about the contract). 

Gangie shares the list of names from before with the whole group.It’s like half badgers and then some other critters (full list here). Sly doesn’t share any of his secret info Grant got texted. Daisy and Buck don’t share about the key (though Sly you’ll remember sat her steal it). Buck does however mention his suspicion about the fact that Gilfoyle wasn’t around when Squire Badger gave his speech and Daisy does the same about the fact that he said he would call the cops but the cops haven’t arrived yet. Lar’s remembers that Jez’s husband is gunning for at seat in parliament and wonders if this is related somehow. Daisy mentions the eyes in the painting and everyone is like way to bury the lede dude! Especially when they’ve just all spilled their secrets. Everyone checks on the painting and with a 25 Gangie can intuit that this is probably used to spy on rich people when they’re mid-séance and vulnerable and spilling secrets (which he doesn’t share but Daisy comes to a similar conclusion on her own). Buck on a 23 can smell ledgers (idk how but the DM said so and I’m reporting it) and guesses that that’s where the Squire’s real office is which means that’s probably where the contract he needs to find and destroy is too. 

 The group makes a list of their loose ends which are what’s on the other side of the painting, what’s up with Fletcher, and the smell of ozone. Plus Ian remembers that the date on the bust in the study is wrong and shares with the class. 

Lars tries to get to the other side of the room by ripping the painting off the hinges with a very impressive 26 but there is fully a wall behind it and the noise brings Gilfoyle, Harding, and the Badger kids running. Lars notes that in the stone behind the painting it says “⅓”  and then hurriedly puts the painting back. Daisy thinks that might refer to a secret third floor or basement accessible by the elevator (but my first thought was that there were 2 other spying paintings in the house somewhere).

Everyone in the room hears the Gilfoyle and co. coming and try to act natural. There is a group stealth check that they all tank so heavily that all the suspicious staff and kids need to do to suss them out is roll above a 5.

AND THEY ROLL A TWO. 

With that, Lucretia appears, totally buys that they’re doing very important spiritual work in there, and in fact guards the door for them. They use the privacy bought by their very vigilant sentry to plan their next steps. Sly, Daisy, and Ian will check out the study while they rest of them check out the elevator. As they exit, Lucretia asks if they got the answers they needed out of the spirits.

Oh yes, says Daisy, echoing Lucretia’s nonsense prediction from last episode. Either something good or bad might happen. Either way, I’m excited! 

Case Notes

How baller of a player move is it to say a line so poignant that the DM is forced to let you roll with advantage? I have been on the other side of that as the DM and it’s so great. MAD respect to Rekha for that. AND THEN THE DICE COOPERATED. You simply love to see it. 

The other best Rekha line is Daisy to Sly upon being called out about stealing the key in his normal, coy, quippy way: You saw me bitch.

Shout out to Grant also for being constantly on as Sly. The guy is on point always. Impeccable.

I am SO SO SO happy Daisy and Sly are on the same mission team. If I was friends with either of them I’d be like, “This is a toxic relationship, they make you too crazy.” But as an outside viewer I want them to be within crystal ball throwing distance always.  

The question I’m sure we’re all asking: Is Brennan enough of a minx to invoke the butler did it trope? I know everyone at the table is thinking it even if none of them have said it outright. I figured the reason the cops haven’t showed up yet was the storm but who knows?

Two pieces of housekeeping, only Buck and Gangie know what the room behind the painting is with their high rolls and, after the bit of passing it back and forth with Buck, Daisy has the key. 

I really can’t do the bit about Gangie’s mom justice. I wish there was a comedy Emmy for actual play DnD shows so D20 could get the accolades it deserves just for that bit. 

Brennan indicated that the conversation between the mice maids was the most interesting info (Gilfoyle convo to staff was too public to be juicy/they could get the info from one of the many gathered staff people and crying is info on its own--though I am curious about who the crying person was) but I’m wondering what he meant by that. Because the fact that Buck paid them might be interesting if Buck did it. But we know he didn’t. Is it the fact that they were in the room at all? Again, info that the party knows if not Lars specifically.  The fact that they were stealing silverware? What’s Brennan’s game here?

[newmusickarl]

Album & EP Recommendations

My word, the music world has well and truly spoiled us this week!

The past seven days has seen a colossal avalanche of new releases, so much so I’ve barely had chance to keep up with it all. Although this is not the full list of everything from the past seven days, here are the 16 (yes, 16!) new releases I’ve enjoyed the most this week.

As there is so much to get through the rundowns are (mostly) a bit shorter than normal and there is no single Album of the Week, instead I simply recommend checking out whichever album or track sounds most appealing depending on your preferred taste.

So without further ado then, here’s what’s good:

Californian Soil by London Grammar

It’s been four years since the release of London Grammar’s last record Truth Is A Beautiful Thing - an album that I enjoyed, but I’ll admit also left me feeling somewhat underwhelmed coming off the back of their incredible breakout debut, If You Wait. As it turns out, the band themselves were also having a tough time around that period, with front woman Hannah Reid in particular battling relentless industry sexism, as well as the persistent physical pain caused by her fibromyalgia condition. With this being the case, it is amazing that the young indie-pop trio have made it to their third album at all, let alone delivering what is their best work to date.

Opening on a grand, string-drenched Intro, the record soon morphs into the sun-soaked guitars and soaring orchestration of the album’s glorious title track. It marks an early highlight as Reid catches the audience up with the tribulations of the last few years – “I left my soul on Californian soil.” From there the album doesn’t really let up as the band move through a series of career-defining tracks – the gorgeous contemporary groove of Missing, the dance-influenced How Does It Feel, the chilled-out ambience of the dreamy Baby, It’s You and the sublime, stripped-back closer America.

However, the album’s strongest moment comes when Reid confronts music industry sexism head on with defiant anthem Lord It’s A Feeling. Beginning with some twinkly xylophone, before evolving into an atmospheric synth-laced backdrop where Reid pulls no punches:

“I saw the way you made her feel, like she should be somebody else,

I know you think the stars align for you and not for her as well,

I undеrstand, I can admit that I have felt those things mysеlf”

The cutting lyrics against some blinding quiet rave instrumentation leaves quite the impression, as does this sterling record in general. After a slight misstep, London Grammar have well and truly rediscovered themselves and they have honestly never sounded better – a truly incredible album.

If You Could Have It All Again by Low Island

Oxford electo-pop outfit Low Island are another band that have defied expectations to get to this point. This, their debut album, was not recorded in a professional music studio – in fact, the vocals were recorded in a bedroom cupboard of all places. The band themselves don’t even have a manager or a record label. In every sense of the word, they are a truly independent band. For a self-financed, self-produced effort, If You Could Have It All Again is a quite remarkable first outing.

From melodic, uplifting opener Hey Man, the record quickly jumps into spoken word electro punk banger What Do You Stand For, featuring acid-drenched synths and a dancefloor-ready groove. Fans of FIFA 21 will recall Don’t Let the Light In, with the glitchy pulse of recent single Who’s Having the Greatest Time also standing out. That said, it’s the smooth, infectious sway of I Do It For You that still pulls me in the most.

Having followed the band since their early EPs, I’ve been rooting for Low Island for a while now and this is one debut album I was highly anticipating this year. Safe to say, my expectations have been met – this is a fantastic, accomplished record, which leaves me eager to see where they go next.

The Greatest Mistake Of My Life by Holding Absence

There was a time when the difficult second album used to be a thing, but listening to the sophomore effort from Welsh rock band Holding Absence this week, I’m really not sure that exists anymore. After a dramatic and impressive self-titled debut two years ago, the band have wasted little time taking things up a notch, with this new album cinematic and masterfully produced from beginning to end.

From standout singalong anthems like Afterlife and In Circles, to the album’s epic seven-minute penultimate track Mourning Song, The Greatest Mistake of My Life shows a band pushing themselves and driving forward with ambition at every opportunity. In a year packed with outstanding rock and metal albums already, this is most definitely another one you can add onto that list. Soaring, impressive and demanding of repeat listens.

We Forgot We Were Dreaming by Saint Raymond

It’s been six long years since Nottingham-born singer-songwriter Callum Burrows, AKA Saint Raymond, released his debut album. However it seems the time away has been well spent as this long-awaited follow-up finds Burrows in fine form, with this album packed to the brim with catchy, glossily produced indie-pop anthems.

From the brilliant title track that opens the record, to the bouncy riffs of Right Way Round, Talk and Solid Gold, to more subdued and heartfelt moments like Only You, this album will have you smiling, singing your heart out and dancing your troubles away.

Flu Game by AJ Tracey

AJ Tracey may have only been three years old when Michael Jordan was winning NBA championships with the Chicago Bulls, but that hasn’t stopped him making a record influenced by the legendary icon and his famous 1997 Flu Game. Like many others including myself, grime superstar AJ Tracey spent lockdown watching the brilliant The Last Dance documentary, and this record weirdly works as a fantastic unofficial companion, but also just a great summer rap record.

McCartney III Imagined by Paul McCartney

Even if like me you completely missed Sir Paul McCartney’s 2020 album McCartney III, it’s well worth checking out this reimagining, where he has called on the help of some of his famous musician pals. This is a real who’s who line up of guest features including Beck, Khurangbin, St. Vincent, Blood Orange, Phoebe Bridgers, Damon Albarn, Josh Homme, Anderson .Paak and more, making for quite a fascinating mix of sounds and styles.

Moratorium (Broadcasts from The Interruption) by Enter Shikari

And finally on the albums front this week, genre-benders Enter Shikari have released a brilliant compilation of all their lockdown live performances, headlined by an incredible string-tinged acoustic version of The Dreamer’s Hotel and a beautifully stripped-back “At Home” rendition of Live Outside.

Tracks of the Week

Introvert by Little Simz

Wow, wow and wow again. Still fairly fresh off the back of her masterful, Mercury Prize nominated third album Grey Area, this week British rapper Little Simz released the first taste of her next record in the form of this epic and triumphant opening track. At six minutes in length, this majestic and operatic political anthem aims to grab the listener by the collar and shake them awake. Without a doubt, one of the best songs of the year so far, the powerful video for which you can view above.

Smile by Wolf Alice

The second taste of their forthcoming album Blue Weekend, Smile continues Wolf Alice’s pattern for alternating Loud/Soft releases, with this one featuring buzzy guitars, punky vocals and a hypnotic chorus melody.

Beautiful Beaches by James

Although written off the back of the California wildfires that impacted front man Tim Booth’s local community, the lyrics on the band’s latest anthem purposefully offer a dual meaning, giving hope to those dreaming of a post-lockdown getaway and fresh start.

He Said She Said by CHVRCHES

The Scottish trio made their much-anticipated return this week, with Lauren Mayberry also sharing her experiences of sexism on this arena-ready synth-pop banger.

Matty Healy by Georgia Twinn

Georgia Twinn delivers an infectiously catchy break-up anthem, inspired by an ex-boyfriend, who’s most interesting feature was supposedly looking like the 1975 frontman.

Kill It by Vukovi

Underground Scottish rock outfit Vukovi’s new single is so good, they even managed to get KILL IT trending over the weekend of its release. Masterfully produced with big bold riffs and trancey synths, this one just sounds huge.

Can’t Carry On by Gruff Rhys

The latest solo single from the former Super Furry Animals frontman is a stunning, super-melodic tune with an instant chorus you’ll be singing before the track has even finished its first play.

Ceremony by Deftones

One of the highlights off their last album Ohms, the nu-metal rockers have now delivered a cinematic new video directed by horror legend Leigh Whannell. Check it out!

Chasing Birds by Foo Fighters

And finally this week, Dave Grohl and company released a trippy new animated video for this Medicine At Midnight cut to help celebrate 420 in their own unique way. Again, well worth a watch!

[life-rewritten]

ITSAY EP 4/5- PROTECTION, THINGS I’LL NEVER SAY AND EASY PROMOTIONS

Warning another painful post coming. Episode 5 of ITSAY trailer focuses on Oh and his decision to walk away from all things Teh and move on. This hurts so much, and because I have spent almost all of last week seeing things from Teh's point of view, I started to feel angry and disappointed at Oh. I'm not sure if that Bas scene where he's holding hands with him and swearing to be with him forever is a fantasy (I hope it is, I hope we're being misled as the trailers have done that a lot, for example, Tarn's reaction to Teh and Oh and them singing the ost to each other scene). I'm not sure if Teh will be strong enough to pass these exams if he even sees a glimpse of Oh and Bas and I'm worried for both of these twos mindsets during this. So here are things in OH's perspective before tomorrows episode comes out. And to be honest, if I cried for Teh because of his self-sabotage and hindrance, I cry for Oh because of his self-loss, doubt, and destruction. Let's begin:

Oh: Protection, Things I'll never say and Easy promotions.

Thing is from episode 1 (mirroring episode 4 and 5 in which we see the fulfilment of many clues and hints to our characters) we've seen that Oh is like this when he gets hurt: he can be resentful, secretive, and put up a front that he's good. We were introduced to his dynamic when we saw him and Teh fall out at a very young age, we saw his dreams: he didn't have one, he always gave up and didn't care about things too deeply until he started practising acting by Teh's side when they were kids. Sometimes I think he's Cancerian (Like me!), like the crab horoscope he ends up burrowing back into his shell for protection when things don't work out;

WHAT IS PROTECTION TO OH

Avoiding all things to do with Teh: Refusing to have anything in his mind connected to Teh, i.e. rejecting the application for the university, so he doesn't owe Teh. 

Returning to a safety net (something that has been proven to be safe to lean on): Having Bas; who he started of crushing on, feeling good by his side, and someone who he fell for because of his kindness, understanding and actions that show Oh is a priority to him. 

Returning to what is easy for him when it comes to feelings, and letting Teh be with Tarn. Giving up on his dreams and relying on his parents to offer him an alternative pathway; Luckily Teh has done something (given him his spot in university), and  I think him doing this though will  cause a push for him to fight again for him or just go to inquire what’s happening but I think he’ll misunderstand Teh, get hurt again and then move to Bas as we see in the trailer. 

For the protection of his mind, and heart, Oh resorts to accepting he gives up on things easily. Its easier to not invest in things when they hurt you, reverting back to the time and person he was when his friendship group was without Teh (in episode 1 which is going to mirror episode 5) and going back to the time when he was starting to heal and be confident after Teh left his side when they were kids. 

When hurt, he burrows deeply, hides away from the truth and pretends everything is fine. He warned Teh in episode 1 that he won't let him in so quickly, because he's always held resentment and self-doubt because of what he said when they fought at a young age, he warned him that their friendship wouldn't be able to go back to the way it was. Plus it took almost all of episode 2, to pry out that intimacy back with Teh we had to watch Teh lose his mind because Oh refused to open up easily and we watched Oh be scared of the intimacy and try to play it off as nothing. (I spoke about this in this post here)

Protection of Himself, Teh and Others

 So it makes sense that once he realises how much being with Teh isn't good for him (dealing with Teh's up and down feelings, losing his individuality and self-esteem rapidly, and also just breaking down to the point of exhaustion),  Oh of course snaps! He regresses back to keeping distance, he'll speak to Teh. Still, they can't be close; he'll be civil. They'll be rivals again during this exam, but they can't help each other out, because helping each other out is a hindrance for both of them with these feelings; mentally, physically, and emotionally. 

They can't focus when they're near each other; they can't think straight about themselves when it comes to the other;

 Oh can see that Teh is losing his dreams; something he would never do because he let him know how important it was to him with their first fight when young and Oh has been the person who knows how desperate Teh wants to be an actor. The very first person who believed in him and saw him prove he could do it. He's giving all that up for Oh; it's something he can't accept, something that makes him feel so guilty, uncomfortable and  feeling problematic. So he has to avoid thinking about it, he has to prevent what it means for him and Teh, he has to avoid thinking Teh didn't make his dreams come true because of him. 

On the other hand, Oh is giving up on his confidence, and pride for Teh. He's rolling around crying continuously, losing his focus on his goals, losing his love for himself, and regretting the gender he was born with. It's too much for someone like him; it's belittling, insulting and painful. 

THINGS I’LL NEVER SAY: SECRETS AND LOSS OF INDIVIDUALITY

Just Look at the things that revolve around Oh in this episode; the title of this post we have Things I'll never say shirt he wears when he and Teh give into their feelings. It's all to do with secrets and perception of self (loss of esteem, ego and self). 

With the things I'll never say, a T-shirt, that's precisely a symbol for who Oh is before Teh shows up. He likes Bas, but he's secretive, he's quiet, hidden, he's scared of being hurt, so he doesn't take that leap, he knows the consequences of it; Oh overthinks about that so instead he retreats, he hides and accepts that it's acceptable this way. 

Truth is Teh enters his life and forces him out. Teh teaches him how to trust and communicate/show how he's feeling. But it's like once he and Teh get past that line and he falls for him uncontrollably, he feels like he's back to  square one. He tries to convince Teh that it's okay if he's kept a secret, but we know it's not fine, he's regressing again, he's being forced to be hidden like he's some sin, something terrible, something that shouldn't be on the surface because he's a boy. After Teh made him feel confident and able to take steps forward, to start caring about things and being more connected with things, the result of it was just more pain, insult and exhaustion, and the most painful ironic part of it was that also was because of Teh. 

For Oh it's like he's proven right with his mindset from episode 1-2; he shouldn't get close, only to people who show repeatedly proof that they're there like Bas. It's only once he has 100% evidence that this is normal, and okay that he falls back to lean on that. 

He doesn't like things complicated; we see it when it comes to the exam,. He gets things his way generally because he's good-looking and charismatic (again shown in episode 1).  Even for acting/fame in episode 1, he got it easy because of this, when it comes to the actual hard work and the translations he struggles, he's frustrated, and he wants to give up. 

The only reason he didn't was because of Teh.  Oh knows this by the way,  about himself and he worries about it because his father also sees him in episode 1, this way. That's why he's even more frustrated and hurt when Teh calls him out on it; Everything that happens to him is because of his looks, his charisma or his connections, that's why the next title Easy promotions is also connected to him.

EASY PICKINGS/PROMOTIONS; GUILT AND SELF DEPRECIATION 

Again Chinese translations in this show are meta and used to back shadow and foreshadow what's going on with characters and the plot. In episode 4, we also see the translation for Easy promotions/pickings when Teh makes the tutorial guide for Oh. That's why he's upset when Teh gives up his space for him again; it's insulting to him because yet again he's gotten an acting spot because of something other than his hard work. 

Remember because of Teh he spent eight years working hard trying to get into the university just to prove to himself, family and friends that he also got things because of his own efforts, and his own diligence. 

Once he and Teh reverted back to rivals, it felt insulting for him because it felt like Teh was mocking him all over again with checking the test results, with giving him his spot for free or to make Oh feel grateful and go back to being friends with him. Teh was telling him  basically with his actions ‘I don't see you being able to pass this exam on your own. ‘That was another belittling thing for his self-esteem. Oh felt depreciated because of how people perceive him, Teh is the person who showed him that. 

But can you blame people, though? 

Because Oh tries to be protected from disappointments and rejection (because of that burrowing back to his protection), he seems inconsistent, fake and unreliable. 

He gives up immediately when the going gets hard; he gives up on the exams after all the hard work he did just because he no longer wanted to keep the dream with Teh, it brings the question does he really care about the acting thing or has he just be doing this all along for Teh? 

He gives up on Teh as well, and I get why he does, don't get me wrong, but still, he gives up and runs away when he feels insulted and tired. 

And from episode 5 trailer he truly moves on to the next thing and pretends everything is fine. That's not okay for me, but I get why he does it.

It's hard for me, to see how easy he moves on and gives up on things he says are important to him, to trust him when he says that acting is also his dream, but then when I look at the hard work he's put in, and the excitement he had when he told Teh in episode 1, that he wanted to join him to do it too, I still feel for him. 

Teh; Oh’s Aspiration

However, I do think it's not the acting that is his dream; it's just the being rivals with Teh and being by his side he aspired to. It's the same reason why he was meant to pass the exams, so he runs by Tehs side to scream at the sunset. Teh was his aspiration. 

And Teh revived it even more in episode 1 and 2 by coming with that suitcase of revision books to make Oh keep trying to get into acting. When he pushed for Oh to wake up and work hard and study for the test . But in Episode 4 when Teh was no longer a good source of joy in his life, he gave up and became lost and confused. 

That's why he rejected the offer when Teh gave up the acting spot to him if Teh didn't do the application why would he want to do it when the very reason he wanted to was because of Teh in the first place? 

The Bra Scene; Easy Promotions vs Vital  Rejections

The ironic thing as well about easy promotions are that even if on the surface it seems like life gives Oh everything he wants easily without effort (when perceived by people), in episode 4, he realised that life didn't give him the one thing he wanted; to be promoted/chosen as the right person for Teh. 

As he goes through his self hate, doubt and loss, he questions if he should have been born a girl if he was a girl, would everything be better? Why was he born to suffer such pain? Why didn't life make it easy for him? 

That's all he thought with the bra scene. He felt humiliated, broken and hateful that he wasn't what Teh wanted, he didn't have the boobs Teh wished to touch each time they became physical, and he didn't have the appearance Teh would have found acceptable. His sense of self warped with what Teh wanted, that's why he posted the picture of him in the bra on Instagram. 

He lost his self, mind and ego for a moment, but then it came crashing back to him that he couldn't change who he was, and he broke down because of it. By the end of the episode, he reverts back to defensive mindset because he hated how much he did lose himself because of Teh

Teh and Oh both suffer from Vital rejections, though they’ve been easily promoted with all they wanted: Teh is easily about to get everything he wants; the girlfriend, the university entrance but he rejects it because of Oh and he feels even more rejected by life towards the end for what he really and truly wanted which is Oh by his side and being grateful to him. Instead Oh rejects his sacrifice and hates him further. Oh is easily promoted in life; he gets the waiting list because of Teh, an alternate pathway if he doesn’t go to university because of his parents,  love and affection because of Bas but he also gets gets rejected from something important/vital to him Teh’s love, affection and choice because of his gender. 

See they both feel rejected when it comes to the things they really needed and the thing that was the most vital to them although they actually are being given all they wanted in the beginning of the show by life.

TEH AND OH; SELF SABOTAGE OR PROTECTION?

Teh and Oh are different when it comes to protection; 

Teh gives and tries to appease others to ease his self esteem, and his ego, he sacrifices parts of himself so people are happy and he feels protected when he's seen by what he wants others to think of him (analysis of Teh here).

 For Oh, Oh hides himself to save his ego and self esteem, he retreats and doesn't take risks because they hurt and damage everything, he lives very safely and feels protected when everything is on the surface, evident and easy to see. (Bas's feelings, his family resort, and his fame on social media) 

That's why when he cries to his parents. he realised they were fine with whatever he did, he found trust and ease following his dads wishes because it seemed more accessible and better for him, he won't be judged, he will be safe from all things Teh, and he won't have to struggle and lose his self for the exam. 

That's another reason why he rejected Teh's application. The thing is it makes it even more painful for Oh because Oh also needs Teh as he needs him; as much as on the surface we know how vital Oh is to Teh (like boy can't breathe, think or act without him, the boy needs him 24/7, is encompassed by him and addicted to him), Oh needs Teh to be his true self also.  Ironic right? 

The Dramatic Irony of Teh and Oh

Teh is the one who is making Oh doubt and lose his self-esteem, but Oh is also not Oh when he retreats. Oh doesn't deal with genuine emotions, true wishes and dreams, true self when he isn't with Teh. Teh forces him to see things and want to take a risk. Teh pushes him either by rivalry, love, hate to do things because of him, Teh makes him question what he truly wants, who he really is, want to work hard to achieve something, want to care for something, and want to be something more than what he's been easily promoted to be. 

Teh's taunts haunt him and cause him to want to be better, he spent 8 years on a goal because of Teh, he spent all of the previous episodes choosing to run back and communicate and give Teh another chance because he doesn't want to lose their friendship, Teh helps him commit and Teh helps him stick to things he cares about, but also Teh makes him brave and confident to say how he's feeling. 

For Bas, he couldn't, but when it came to Teh, he was open, ready, eager and 100% sure Teh loved him the way he did. It's ironic that the most authentic version of Oh is right next to Teh, but in episode 4 the worst version of Oh (anxious, lost, doubtful and exhausted mentally) was also right next to Teh.

Oh's self-loss is just as painful as it was for Teh. These two both love each other so much, but because they are young, they don't understand how to protect themselves adequately when it comes to the whirlwind that is feelings. Feelings are crazy, they can mess you up, break you down, make you lose everything you know or want for your self, but with the right person, they can push you, make you brave, raise you up to your potential and make you know everything you didn't know about your self. Its dramatic irony the way love and feelings can be, and with this show it even more ironic that both Teh and Oh need to be by each other's side for both of them to indeed be themselves, and be free and be loved.

Writing about Teh before already broke me and I already started to be defensive for him but now I can get kind what Oh is doing and why he’s running away. To be honest he believes that the world isn’t good when he and Teh are together destiny doesn’t want them to be together because they’re bad for each other they’re only leading each other to hurt and more pain. And it’s painful and it’s sucks because it’s not true they’re meant to be together once they mature. So I really hope we do get a good ending for these two because right now the world does seem against them in their head and really all they want to do is run away and choose each other but for the sake of people they can’t. Just like in the song and ost Skyline it does seem like destiny wants them apart so should they give up? Well Oh and Teh both have become defeated and have decided to let destiny win. Oh to protect himself and to protect Teh too, and Teh for other people sake.

 Okay now, it's back to waiting anxiously for Episode 5 finale, let's pray these two find a way back to each other, let's pray for growth and maturity and communication before its too late.  Let's pray for sunsets and reunions and confessions of true love. Wish us luck.

PREVIOUS ANALYSIS: PROMISES, SUNSETS AND MALE PROTAGONISTS

PREVIOUS ANALYSIS; XIN THE FOCUS OF THE HEART

PREVIOUS ANALYSIS: EP 4 SELF SABOTAGE, HINDRANCES AND REVERSE HELP TEH’S PERCEPTION

[loveislattes]

Patience Is Key (Darkiplier/Fem!Reader) Chapter 2 (End)

Commission prompt:  Reader only knows that sex is pain, so Dark shows her otherwise…?

Mentions past abusive relationship but doesn’t go into any detail! 

Content: Smut, smut, smut, smut! Some demon tentacle/tendril play, dom/sub themes, biting, and mentions of praise! 

A/N: I hope it was worth the wait, guys! Love you all!  Also! I was listening to Two Feet- Momentum EP on repeat while writing the smut. If you haven’t heard it, I would DEFINITELY encourage you to! Its sultry and enticing and just lovely. 

@heapass0

@underthedark13

@moriimae

@oi-fischfuck

@beck384

@book-of-roses

@therealcap

It was a strange arrangement, living with a literal demon, but it wasn’t bad. Knowing there was a badass immeasurable force protecting the house kept my anxiety to a bare minimum. Not to mention, for his talk of being around more, we weren’t usually in the house at the same time. Oftentimes the only way I’d know he’d even been in the building was the fact my closet door was open. On the rare occasion that we were actually home together, it was just like being with any other roommate. Sometimes he’d stay in what was now designated as his bedroom and other times he’d read beside me on the couch while I watched movies. 

No matter where he was or what he was doing, he was quiet; which was a pity because he had such a beautiful voice but it was also probably for the best considering how much I’d come to enjoy it. Hell, I just enjoyed being in his presence in general. Serene though he was, he was good company. He was always such a good listener and found ways to keep my talking about myself which usually was a topic I avoided. He made me feel comfortable, important, despite the fact he was leagues above me in the order of the world. 

I let out a little sigh and rolled onto my back, letting my tablet fall to the bed beside me in favor of wrapping up my stomach. Anytime I thought about him I got those annoying little butterflies in my gut. Why did he have to be so damn attractive? Not just physically, either, although I’d be the first to admit his looks alone could bring me to my knees. Our personalities meshed so well together. I’d never met another person- being- who actually enjoyed sitting in another’s company in silence. Everyone always felt the need to be doing something, but I preferred just being side by side with our own activities. Mixed with that fact he was undeniably genius-level smart and courteous in a way most human men weren’t- I didn’t stand a chance. 

“What a perfect asshole,” I huffed quietly. 

It was late and I knew I had to try to get some sleep before work tomorrow. Unfortunately, that would mean I’d have to stop daydreaming and actually sleep but once I started thinking about Dark, it was almost impossible to stop. Work was already a hellish land without exhaustion so it was with much grumbling and sighing that I rolled over onto my side and forced my mind quiet. 

Think of something calming. Rain; Watching a storm through the bedroom window at night. Listening to the raindrops and staring out at the dark sky. Dark… Would he be the kind of person who enjoyed watching storms too? Or even stargaze? Damn, how amazing would it feel to cuddle up to him on the roof and stare up at the sky? - Fuck, no! Stop it brain. 

Despite burrowing under the covers and wrapping up like a human burrito, I just couldn’t get my mind to shut up. My body was nearly humming with thoughts of him. After half an hour of tossing and turning, I gave in to my baser instincts. It was the one thing I knew would knock me out easily. Throwing my blankets aside, I snagged my trusty toy from the bedside table and switched it on. 

The instant I felt the vibrations on my clit my body nearly melted in place.

“Fuuuuck, yeah. This was a good idea,” I mumbled weakly.

Legs falling aside, I let the vibrator go to work in all the right places. The stress of the day, of my crush on my demonic roommate, slowly ebbed away to be taken over by that familiar pleasure. Unbidden fantasies of Dark slowly danced their way into my thoughts and an overwhelming shudder wracked my form; How he’d look over me, how his fangs would feel against my skin, how his voice would echo in the throes of passion.

“Oh Dark! Shit!”

Mewls of his name filtered out over and over as I quickly neared the edge of bliss. It was so close I could practically taste it, the tendrils teasing up my calves in anticipation. A dreamy giggle escaped my lips as I felt an unexpected tickle behind my knees. It wasn’t until what I thought were the imaginary tingles of my impending orgasm solidified into a bruising hold that I realized it wasn’t just my mind.

“Wha-!!”

Before I could even protest, I was jerked towards the edge of the bed with a force almost inhuman. 

“Oh, please, don’t stop on my account. I just wanted a… better view.”

That voice. Mortification rolled like bile up my gut as I jerked upright. It was with burning cheeks that I jerked my blanket over my lap, earning a chuckle from the intruder.

Dark smirked from his spot against the closet door, looking way too casual for someone who’d just caught me moaning their name. 

“You know I could just remove that if I really wished to,” he hummed lowly.

I was trying to find some snappy retort when suddenly I felt the thing holding my right leg let go and push up the blanket before dropping it once again symbolically.

“Wait, these- that’s you?” I whispered in disbelief.

Without a second thought, I jerked the blanket away and stared in awe at the smokey black vines wrapped around my legs. I tried to follow them to the source but they ended up blending it with the darkness of the floor halfway to Dark. 

“Yes, they are a part of me,” he finally replied.

I knew I most likely resembled a fish out of the water with how I gaped at him but it was taking my brain a little while to catch up. While I knew he had powers beyond my comprehension, I hadn’t even imagined something like this. 

“O-Oh,” I whispered.

His amused chuckle brought my attention back up to him, only now he was much closer and I was reminded of just how obscenely I had been saying his name minutes ago.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

He put up a hand and I went silent immediately, unsure of how this was going to play out. Those damned butterflies were going crazy in my belly again under the weight of his stare and I couldn’t resist the need to look away, finding a particularly interesting bit of carpet to the right instead.

“You were calling for me. I was concerned that your former lover was back causing trouble, but imagine my delight at walking in on such a beautiful sight,” he sighed, head tilting with a little grin, “I also couldn’t help but notice that I seemed to be the cause of your desires.”

A small part of my pride still felt disgruntled by the shock but overall I was stunned by his admission. He liked that he walked in on that? He called it beautiful… Oh fuck. Swallowing thickly, I tilted my head back and met his gaze nervously. There was a flash of fang as his grin widened into a sly smirk and I instantly felt my pussy throb in need; To have those teeth around my throat, in my skin, god what I’d do.

“You seem to be having some trouble there, darling. Would you be oh so kind and allow me to help you?” he purred, a low growl rumbling in his chest when he stepped closer.

I couldn’t manage a verbal response so instead, I nodded, probably a little too emphatically if his snicker was telling.  Any embarrassment I felt evaporated the moment his hand cupped my jaw. I was so keyed up and touch starved that just that action caused my thighs to clench shut. His skin was cool against mine but not uncomfortably so. There was a small bit of callus on his thumb as it rubbed across my face and the texture sent shivers down my spine. 

Suddenly his other hand came up and quickly tangled in my locks, jerking my head back as his other hand slid around my throat.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked, “Are you sure you want to give yourself to me?” 

Gulping, I nodded and managed to whisper, “I trust you. I know you won’t be like him.”

I didn’t even need to say the name. There had been an awkward discussion a few weeks back about what had actually gone down between my ex and I, without all the intimate details of course. The implication of what my ex had done now hung heavy in the air between us, thick and harsh, and I worried for a moment that I’d ruined the mood. His sharp sigh was the only warning I got before suddenly his mouth was on mine. I wasn’t even given time to respond before he pulled away just as quickly. 

“This will be like nothing you’ve ever experienced, darling. I am nothing like anyone you’ve ever known. There are things about me that no human could compare to.”

As if offering an example, the tendril around my thigh slowly moved its way further up my thigh until it was mere centimeters from my aching core. It made my heart race but more than anything I just wanted him to continue. 

“Even so, there will never be a moment that your consent will be in question, do you understand that? Sex is meant to be enjoyable for everyone involved. Even a demon like me lives by that principle,” he explained, “As such, I’ve grown rather fond of having you around these past few months and I’d rather not scare you off now. So if there is something I do that you’re not comfortable with, you will tell me.”

“Y-Yes,” I agreed softly. 

There was that domineering attitude again. Not that I minded in any sense. It just added another layer to the safety I felt around him. Hell, I wanted him to be in control. It made things so much easier when I didn’t have to second guess if I was doing the right thing or if I was going to regret it. 

“Now, lay back and continue while I get undressed,” he demanded huskily. 

A little niggle of anxiety wormed its way through the comfortable haze around my mind when he pulled back and stared me down, but I shoved it away with a calming breath. I could do this. After steeling my nerves, I reached up and pulled off my nightshirt, tossing it to the floor and leaving my body completely bare- save for the teasing tendrils still wrapped around my legs like a wicked kind of ribbon. 

Thankfully he started moving in suit, making me feel more at ease and less scrutinized. With a pillow propped under my head, I snagged the vibrator again and started it back up. It felt strange to indulge myself with the man of my desires mere feet away but there was also a strange sort of thrill to it. There was also the undeniable boost of confidence, the fact that a powerful demon wanted to see me; hell, that he wanted me at all!

I was slowly getting back into the rhythm when I became distracted by the sound of cloth dropping. When I looked back up, he was completely shirtless, suit jacket, shirt, and tie across the room on my dresser. He was already working on his slacks when our eyes met. Nervously my gaze dropped back down only to get enraptured by the sight of his pants opening. God, he had nice hands; big, veiny, strong. 

With a shake of my head, I cleared my thoughts and solely focused on the vision before me. He took his time, inching his slacks down teasingly until his cock bobbed free. With a snap of his fingers, his pants were suddenly across the room with the rest of his clothes. 

“Keep going,” he demanded.

I realized, with much chagrin, that I had completely stopped using the vibrator in lieu of watching him. I managed a soft apology before bringing the toy back to my clit. My eyes shut instinctively under the waves of pleasure that buzzed through my limbs, only to open once more in shock as I felt the smoky appendages on my thighs moving once more. 

They moved slowly as if giving me time to rebuke their advances but eventually joined my hand between my thighs. They were neither warm nor cold, just about the same temperature as my body as they gently prodded between my lips. 

My eyes sought out Dark once more only to be graced by the most stunning sight, the statuesque demon shamelessly stroking his cock slowly. 

“O-Oh fuck!”

He smirked but didn’t say a word in reply, instead letting a little grunt fall from his lips. 

Oh and how delicious it sounded. I couldn’t help the little whimper than escaped in return as the tendrils thrust in. It was both strange and enthralling, having something that should not exist touching me in such a private way. They moved much more dexterously than fingers, quick and flexible that more mimicked a tongue. It didn’t take long for him to find that erogenous patch of nerves deep in my core and set on a full assault.  

“D-Dark, please!” I gasped needily.

“Tell me what you want,” he ordered stiffly, slowly making his way toward the edge of the bed.

He was devastatingly gorgeous. Just the sight of his toned, naked body nearly sent me over. My fingers trembled in their hold of the vibrator when I finally caught sight of his bare cock, hard, thick, and standing centered perfectly between that drool-worthy adonis belt. As if sensing my faltering, he sped up the thrusts with a smirk. 

“Fuck me!”

There was that arrogant chuckle again, “If you insist.” 

The bed dipped by my feet and instinctively I threw the vibrator across the bed, spreading my legs as I heard the telltale thunk of the plastic hitting the floor. Cool hands ran up my calves and around my thighs before resting on my waist as he came to rest in place over me. I couldn’t hold back a whimper as I felt warm drops of his precum pool on my belly as he leaned in and kissed me hard. The sensation of his velvety smooth head rubbing against my stomach did awful things to the desire eating me up inside. 

Thankfully he appeared to be affected just as much because it wasn’t long before he reached between us to situate his tip between my lips. Oh so devastatingly slowly he worked his way in, every inch better than the last. 

“Ahhhha, god damn,” I gasped, fingers clutching at his solid forearms in search of stability.

It had been so long. So fucking long. Not to mention, the size difference between him and any other man I’d slept with was astronomical. Part of me basked in the care he was taking not to injure me, but the other part of me just wanted him to get it over with and fuck me into oblivion, no matter the consequences. Not that I could get the words out to ask for it; Struck dumb and useless by the overwhelming satisfaction wreaking havoc with my senses. After what seemed like forever, his hips finally came flush to mine and I was finally able to force my eyes open. 

“Hello, darling,” Dark purred.

Goosebumps prickled every inch of my skin and my stomach flipped in shock at the depth his voice reached, the echoes mimicked by an ethereal blue and red glow pulsing around him. It only served to remind me that there was so much about him- and his kind- that I knew nothing about. How much power and ability he had hidden in the most beautiful body. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” I gasped without much thought.

There was a twinge of confusion across his face for only a moment before he leaned back in and stole a brutal kiss. My lips ached under the pressure but I didn’t dare complain as his taste infiltrated my senses. Just as I was starting to run out of air, he pulled away and let out a huff of a laugh.

“You are, by far, the most curious and provocative human I’ve ever met,” he muttered. 

 In the next movement, quicker than I could fully comprehend, he had my legs jerked upon his shoulders and his hands on my hips. It was debilitating, the sudden change in position, and how perfectly full it left me. I wasn’t given long to marvel over it before his nails were biting into my skin, holding me still when his hips began slamming into mine. Hard. Demanding. Dominating. Every thrust burned his control into my mind like a branding.

It was almost too much of a good thing, so much raw energy, and emotion bouncing around like lightening in my veins. I couldn’t- wouldn’t- stop it though. My skin felt on fire and my cunt abused, and yet I had never felt anything so paradisiacal. 

“Open your eyes. Let me see you,” Dark snapped suddenly.

The sight above me was one I’d give anything to see again and again for the rest of my life: his monochrome skin bathed in those celestial lights, the flex of his trim muscles with each thrust, the peek of fangs with every grunt and groan he unleashed. I felt a wave of indescribable emotion twitch in my heart when our eyes locked, and had to look away instantly. 

“No, no, darling,” he grunted huskily, “Don’t shy away. The expression in your eyes is absolutely delicious. I want to see you, need you to see me, when I make you come.”

God, the way his voice reverberated in my head made everything else slip away. It was so easy to just listen to him. Meeting his gaze once more, I was blessed with the sight of pure adoration. 

“There we go. Good girl.”

A zing of pleasure shot down my spine at the little admission of praise and tore a whimper from my lips. 

“Now, I need you to do one more thing for me.”

He paused until I finally realized he wanted some sort of response.

“Y-Yes, fuck, of course. A-a-anything,” I moaned, ankles framing his neck as he gave a rough thrust of his hips. 

Another smirk graced his lips when he said, “Come for me. Let me hear you say my name again so sweetly.”

Cheeks flushing, I managed a half-assed nod before my world went into chaos with a brush of my clit. It took a good few moments before I realized it had to be one of his shadows since both of his hands were bruising on my hips. That realization mixed with every little movement culminated into the start of an earth-shattering end. It was so hard to keep my eyes open under the building waves assaulting my core. I needed to though. If not for his satisfaction, then to see the way his face contorted in bliss. It was captivating and there was a sense of contentment that came with knowing he was feeling even a modicum of the pleasure he caused. 

The brush of the tendril solidified into a movement almost tongue like at the same time that his hands moved from my hips. I nearly whined at the loss of his hold only to be placated by his grip resurfacing under my knees. Without warning, he suddenly sent my legs back towards me, holding them spread as he leaned over me and took up a brutal pace. It wasn’t but moments later that everything snapped. 

I couldn’t hold back the scream that tore up my throat as my world shattered. Shocks of whites danced behind my lids with every pulse of bliss that rang through my core, radiating from my head to my toes behind every thrust of his hips. In a moment of weakness, I blindly reached for and snagged his hair, jerking on the silky locks needily. 

“Pl- Fuck, god, Dark, please, wanna feel you bite me!”

His response was in a language that was both terrifying and beautiful, resonating in my chest heavily until he finally dropped my legs and leaned down over me. His scent was overwhelming as he surrounded me in nearly every sense. I wanted nothing more than to bury my face in his neck and breathe it in but I was quickly reminded of my more pressing desires the moment his lips brushed my neck.

“I need to know where you’d like me to come first, darling. Wherever you want,” he moaned, voice catching near the end.

The rumble of his voice sent my thoughts scattering once more with another wave of pleasure washing through my body, but I managed to focus enough to stammer out, “I-In me. I’m on the sh-sh- fuck!”

My words were cut off by blinding pain. It almost felt as if his teeth broke the skin, a throbbing burn emanating from the bite, but it was quickly encompassed by bliss. I felt my eyes rolling back as his husky moan reverberated against my throat and he buried his cock deep in my core with a final thrust. The aftershocks of his cock throbbing had me quivering weakly but I fought through the mind-numbing bliss and fulfilled the last of my thirst, brushing my nose against his cheek and soaking in the scent of his woodsy cologne and natural musk.

Laying under him, though uncomfortably hot, was the best feeling; The sensation of his strong body mimicking the comfort of a weighted blanket. 

“That was… Dark, I don’t even have words,” I whispered finally.

With careful movements, he slowly pulled back until our eyes could comfortably meet and I realized belatedly that I still had a steely grip on his hair, releasing it with a nervous giggle. 

“No regrets, then?” he asked, obviously amused.

I shook my head as I bit my lower lip before offering him a little smile.

“The only regret would be if it was a one-time thing,” I admitted softly.

His eyebrow twitched up and said, “Not at all, darling. I’ve been patient for so long, waiting for the right moment to claim you. The only thing that could keep me from you is you yourself.”