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radioactivepeasant · 4 years

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Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

(Part 2 of yesterday's snippet!)

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong.

Luke had been so sure of himself when he'd entered the chamber. He knew what he had to do, and he knew there was always a chance that he would die in the attempt. But his friends -- no, his family -- were trapped in this facility, and Luke would not let them die.

Yoda didn't understand. He claimed to have watched over Luke all his life. He criticized Luke for looking to the future and not the present.

If the present is so important, Master, if you can see so far, why didn't you see that Leia's been tortured by Vader before? How can you be willing to let her fall into his hands again?

No. Luke would never let that happen. His friend was more important than his training: he would never choose to let someone die for his own benefit.

That's not the kind of Jedi I'm going to be.

And so he had chosen to fight.

But there was a problem.

Darth Vader had chosen not to fight.

The man's presence filled the room like smoke, billowing and curling around them both as though it could cut off every escape route. Maybe it could. Luke was not foolish enough to believe that Vader was vulnerable, just because he refused to draw his sword. The Force was with him, after all. Corrupted, used for selfish purposes, but nevertheless a powerful ally.

But Vader did not attack.

Again and again he admonished Luke for his aggression. A hint of scolding. A hint of fond exasperation. As if he were a teacher correcting a favored pupil.

Or a fa-

Luke cut off the thoughts in fury. His enemy was underestimating him. Patronizing the would-be Jedi, so sure of his own superiority.

This was not a Darth Vader he had seen before. Where was the cold pragmatism? The apathy towards others? Clearly it had been in play when he had harmed Han and Leia and Chewie.

"I have no specific grievance against those you keep company with."

And that was worse. Infinitely worse. Everything he had done to his friends -- to Leia! -- and he didn't even have any particular issues with them?! If he could torture someone he didn't hate, what would he do to someone he did have a grudge against?

What will he do to me?

Now he walked down the stairs, ignoring Luke's lightsaber, speaking calmly as though he could pretend he hadn't just used sentient beings as bait to draw him here. It didn't work like that! He couldn't just make Luke drop his guard with honeyed words. Every child raised on Tatooine knew the danger of those who spoke sweetly and held a transmitter behind their backs. Luke wasn't going to fall for it and he wasn't shy about saying so.

"The jakreb learns to listen before he runs," his enemy quoted suddenly. He sounded amused.

That was an old saying on Tatooine. A proverb to teach children to watch carefully for signs of danger before making a move. There should have been no reason for Vader to know it.

None whatsoever.

I don't like this. Something is wrong.

Something plucked at his memories. A tickle at the back of his mind, like a spider crawling across his skin. Nothing concrete, but a nameless, formless, something.

"The dragon who moves too soon is a dragon who starves," Luke shot back, a little rashly.

Another old proverb. Less about wariness and caution and more about patience.

I know what you're doing, old man. You're the dragon. I'm the jakreb. So which one of us is going to move first?

But Vader kept walking. After all this, after the horrible things he'd done just to get Luke here, he was just...just leaving?! But that didn't make any sense!

“You want me to drop my guard, so you can kill me. Just like you did to Ben!” he accused.

He turned his blade to a more horizontal guard and stepped up to the high ground.

If Vader was trying to lure him in close enough to run him through, he was going to be disappointed.

“Luke.” Vader shook his head and continued to descend the staircase. Again his voice was sickeningly compassionate. “Obi-wan allowed himself to be killed. What his motives could have been, I do not know. He told himself and everyone around him such pretty lies that I am no longer certain that even he knew what his motivations were. But I assure you that whatever he did, he did so deliberately.”

The bottom seemed to drop out of Luke's stomach. There was so much anger hiding in those words. Maybe Vader didn't have a vendetta against Luke's friends, but it was very clear that he'd hated Obi-wan. But why?

Ben said that Vader betrayed and murdered his father. He said nothing about Vader betraying him. And he'd given no hint that there might be particularly bad blood between them. Did he just think it wasn't Luke's business?

But Luke knew that Vader was right about one thing: Ben had chosen to die at that particular moment. “To give us time to escape," he said defiantly. Lightsaber at the ready, he cautiously began to descend the stairs after Vader. "So we could destroy your Death Star! Worked out pretty well, Vader.”

“Indeed?”

Vader glanced back over his shoulder at Luke, then stepped off the edge of the platform.

What the kriff?!

He was leaving! Why? Was this room a trap? Would he activate one of those machines as soon as he was out?

Oh no way. Not a chance. You don't get to walk away from me, Sithspawn.

Luke scrambled to the edge of the platform in time to see Vader stepping into one of the maintenance tunnels.

“That is a topic for speculation, I believe," the rumbling voice echoed back. Luke definitely caught some sarcasm in his tone. "But for all the times your “Ben” betrayed me, it is fitting that in his final moments he unwittingly revealed you to me. Returning what he stole all those years ago.”

What.

The reverberating breaths faded out, and Luke stood at the edge of the platform. He tried to piece together what he'd just heard logically.

Had Ben stolen something from Vader? If the Sith wanted it, it was probably a good thing Obi-wan had taken it. Whatever it was. Maybe a weapon?

Luke's heart sank as he looked down at the brilliant blue glow of his saber.

Vader killed his father. He might have felt that Anakin's lightsaber rightfully belonged to him.

What do I do?! This is my lightsaber! My inheritance. It's all I have of my father and I will not let him take that away.

Luke's emotions twisted around each other, bending back over themselves in a discordant jangle of mismatched rhythms as he tried to understand what was happening. The grip of the saber was slick in his hands.

I'm…

No, no, I can do this.

I'm scared

I can do this!

He was being torn in two different directions. Every fiber of his being begged him to flee. To not walk into what could very well be a trap. But at the same time, something down that tunnel was calling him. Like a cord wrapped around his heart, steadily pulling him to an unknown destination, he felt the whispers more than he heard them.

I'm scared.

It's alright to be scared. I'm here.

They weren't words so much as sensations. Faintly brushing against his memory like a butterfly's wing, the whispers seemed to promise that everything would be alright, he just couldn't look back.

Frightened, but determined, Luke clipped his saber to his belt and eased over the edge of the platform.

It's okay. I can do this.

I can win.

Just don't look back.

The instant Luke stepped into the tunnel, the lights snapped on. He had a feeling that he was walking into a trap. But then, the place he had just left felt like a trap, too.

Kriff kriff kriff.

Stupid jakreb hopped right into the snare.

There was a control room at the end of the tunnel.

There was a Sith Lord at the end of the tunnel.

Luke had his lightsaber out almost before he had time to think.

A grate slid shut over the tunnel mouth behind him, cutting off his retreat.

Well.

At least he could see in this room.

"Put down your weapon, young one," Vader said again. He did not even turn away from the holographic map to face Luke.

"Not. Happening." Luke bared his teeth and forced himself to take two steps forward. "You have to answer for what you did, Vader. To my friends, and the galaxy, and the Jedi...and my father."

Quite suddenly, Vader's shoulders fell. He leaned against the projector as if he were bone-weary.

"Child, I have done nothing to your father."

He still did not turn.

"He is a contemptible, pitiable wretch, too quick to give his loyalty to those who do not deserve it. But he is a powerful wretch. Powerful enough to conceal your existence from the emperor for the last three years."

Luke stumbled back. His father's lightsaber hung by his side uselessly.

Present tense.

Darth Vader was speaking about his father in the present tense.

Anakin Skywalker.

Present tense.

"You...you're lying."

No please, please don't be lying-

I can't…

Don't toy with me you sleemo

Don't you dare use my father's memory as a ploy-

At last, Vader turned to face him. "I have done what I can, Luke," he said simply. "But now we are out of time."

"I have done what I can"

Something cold and clammy slithered in Luke's gut. It knotted in coils around his spine to sink its teeth into his heart. Against his will, tears sprang to his eyes.

He knew Darth Vader was evil, but this was a cruelty he had not expected. The carefully laid trap, baited with words, and the insinuations eased between sentences, struck deeper than any lightsaber's blow. He played on the memory of Luke's father -- of his loneliness, his lifelong yearning for his father -- and twisted it. Perverted it into an attempt at manipulation so blatant it could hardly be believed.

Did he believe it was an attempt at manipulation?

What if it was worse? What if Vader actually believed what he seemed to be implying? Pointing out how illogical it was could quickly become dangerous. But Luke was past the point of caring.

"You...you aren't half the man my father was!" he hissed.

Something bitter and almost amused dripped from the Sith to puddle around Luke's fear.

"An ironic statement."

"You don't know me!" Luke continued gamely on as if he had not been interrupted. "You think you're the first person to play mind games with my memories? Huh? Kriff you!"

He swung the blade up in a ready position.

Darth Vader tilted his head to one side, considering.

"This is not going to go the way you think."

The spiders were back, creeping across his brain. Luke blinked and shook his head to clear it. Losing his focus here would be fatal.

"Don't fight it."

Vader raised a hand towards him, almost reaching out.

"You have been running for a long time. It is alright to rest, now."

Was the Sith doing something to his mind?!

But Ben said mind tricks only worked on the weak-willed! And Yoda was always complaining about how stubborn he was!

"Get out of my head!" Luke shouted. Don't panic, don't panic-

"It is not me."

Oh, gentleness did not sound right coming out of that voice.

"You have forgotten who you are, and yet from our first encounter your memories have tried to reestablish themselves. Stop fighting them, Luke. Let them flow."

Luke stopped pretending he wasn't afraid. He was terrified. He was alone in an isolated place, too far away to call for help, and trapped with a deadly enemy who meant to prey upon his very sense of self.

His hands were shaking too badly to hold up his father's blade. This was so stupid, he was so stupid, he never should have come here! He had to get out, there had to be a way out!

Luke scanned the room frantically for an exit. He backed away from Vader and edged towards what looked like a corridor.

"Luke."

"No!"

Luke stumbled over a bundle of cables on the floor and nearly fell. He managed a graceful recovery despite his terror and kept moving.

"Stay away from me!"

Vader did not. He began to move at last, slow and purposeful and relentless.

The Force moved around them like a frigid tide, pulling machinery from the walls to land behind Luke. He was cutting off his escape. The trap had been sprung.

"Stop running, Luke."

"Leave me alone!"

He was pleading now.

All sense of bravado, of dignity, had fled.

Obi-wan was right. I'm not ready. I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die-

If Leia lives, it's worth it

But I don't-

I don't want to die

And then at last, he could go no further. His calves caught on some discarded hunk of metal, and toppled him. Sharp, broken pieces dug into his back as he landed. The pain felt distant, like something that was happening to someone else. Luke's increasing disorientation muffled everything but his fear.

This was the end. Luke, on the ground at Darth Vader's feet. If the encounter didn't end in immediate death, his interrogation was likely imminent.

But Vader

Knelt.

He kneeled down beside Luke and rested his gloved hand on Luke's cheek. Luke was very sure that his heart was going to stop.

Oh. He's going to snap my neck. At least it'll be quick.

"Enough, child." A deep bass growl vibrated through the words. He sounded as though he was finally angry. "I am not going to kill you!"

Before Luke had time to process that, he added, "I am trying to save you."

Save me?! From what?!

Luke swung out with one arm, trying to push the dark lord away. Vader caught his wrist easily and squeezed it.

"You know me." Each syllable dripped with an unexpected urgency. "Search your feelings: you will know it to be true. Remember, Luke. You must remember."

"No!" Luke tried in vain to pull away. "S-stop!"

He was pulled, gently, but firmly, up into a sitting position.

He was pulled, less gently, by the thread around his soul. It reached out, straining for something it had once known. A sense of something missing.

A sense that was being answered in kind.

And he felt something. Something he had felt before.

Or rather

Someone.

Luke knew the answer to the question his soul was asking.

He didn't want to know.

He didn't want to face it.

No, no please-!

"You have forgotten what you once knew," Vader murmured. "You have forgotten me. And I- I believed you had died."

Seething shadows coiled around them both.

"The Emperor will suffer no Skywalker to be free. If he is not entirely beneath the emperor's thumb, then he must die. If you lived, his hold on me was jeopardized. Luke, he told me you were dead. But here you are, alive again!"

Skywalker.

Vader was referring to himself as Skywalker.

The Force resonated. A great bell seemed to have tolled, and with each reverberation the jagged pieces were forced together.

Darkness and Light.

Hunter and quarry.

Lost and found.

Father and son.

Luke could not see through his tears. He didn't need to. He could feel.

The Force was no longer a counterpoint around them. It was a harmony. And that was the hardest truth of all.

Shhh, you are safe. I'm here, I'm here.

The same soundless lullaby that had soothed his childhood nightmares. The thing he had forgotten.

His father's voice.

I know you.

"Oh." Darth Vader lifted him free of the machinery as easily as if he were still a little child.

He pulled Luke into his arms. Luke did not have the strength to resist.

“There you are.”

#Free Day Thursday #star wars wednesday #star wars au #bespin au #esb au #darth vader #luke skywalker #fic prompts #writing prompts #Luke is Not having a good time but hey he doesn't lose a hand #sneaky Mufasa references Because I Can #look if a human baby can know and recognize their parents' voices before birth and you add Force Weirdness to that #then not only do you get a plausible explanation for Leia having memories of her mother #you also have the possibility of Luke recognizing his dad's Force signature

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alishirtsofficial · 3 years

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thedumbguywithaheart43 · 3 years

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BoomLord's weird adventure

Chapter 17 where's the storm?

Twilight and boom Lord both laid back on the bed the question still hung in the air. How do they tell their friends as even they weren't sure how it happened. For now though the two seemed content just laying there leaving the question for later."well it's probably not the best idea to rush it for now I just like to take a bit of time as I'd like to get to know the person who somehow taken my breath away."twilight's worried face disappeared as boom said this a look of interest on her. Who could blame her even though they knew the kind of people they were and much of the base stuff they were still so much mystery and mystery can be quite intriguing. She leaned into one allowing him to embrace her, wrapping his arms around her."okay well tell me about your kind to be honest even when uh."her face filled with a blush 'shit Twilight how do I tell him about my experience with humans."Boom started to chuckle finding it hard not to burst out in complete laughter. Her face was so flustered it was funny to him."Twilight I'm aware of your time as a human beforehand I know many things about you...er.. well that sounded creepier than I wanted it to."He quickly looked away before looking back to her gaze.'Of course he knows' she thought before holding back her own chuckle."okay then well tell me about humans."Boom let out a sigh. Truth be told he was waiting for this question yeah just expected it to happen later on."well humans are a complicated species and it's not always a happy tale when it comes to us."This only made Twilight more curious as she leaned in."humans are some of greatest creatures in the Omniverse and they're also the worst in it. In every world in every Galaxy in every multiverse where there are humans there are war, deaths ,hunger, starvation we commit terrible horrible Acts for the dumbest reasons."twilight's face went blank for a moment."we fight over land over opinions for love and hate.The ones over love can can often be the bloodiest."a distant look entered boom's eyes those Twilight looked up at him with soft eyes."I don't understand how can love it's a wonderful thing create such a terrible act?"her voice was sorrowfull admittedly the conversation was pretty so far."Twilight you'll find many things in our adventures but nothing more powerful than love. Love can be a terrible thing when misused it can lead to rejection obsession and betrayal ultimately that leads to death the bloodiest wars in my history may have started with acts of love. Trust me I've witnessed it first hand."He look down at the beautiful girl in his arms looking like she was about to cry 'Ah shit them what the fuck are you doing!' He took a deep breath determined to give Twilight a more satisfying ending to the question."but Twilight even for the many faults of humans we are capable of great acts together when we put aside our petty differences we have built towers that reach into the sky vehicles that extend into the Stars and relationships stronger than steel."He reached down grabbing her hand intertwining their fingers."and well love can lead to terrible things the best things in life are pointless without it. Without Love there can be no compassion sympathy loyalty and the other elements that you and your friends represent. And it's love that keeps us going In the Blake is of times. One day in the dark when there's no hope no future insight love love is all it takes to make a light."twilight's expressions slowly turned back into a joyful one as she leaned up nuzzling into his chin."you know you wouldn't make bad poet."Boom give out a snort."nah I ain't got the patience for that I'd rather just blow stuff up."the two of them burst out and laughing before embracing each other once more however it was time to face the day.

2 The pair quietly open the door before heading downstairs towards the exit of the castle. It had been a few days since Twilight or boom had spoken to spike mostly Fluttershy and AppleJack were keeping an eye on him bringing him gems and other food. Mostly candy. Once the two actually entered the main courtyard many of the candy citizens took notice of them taking a sigh of relief noticing that it wasn't Pinky. They were sick of having to replace their buildings."man it's so weird being in the Candy Kingdom without peppermint Butler announcing my presence."she turned to look at him with a confused expression one that she had had several times today."okay I've met a lot of candy people but whose peppermint Butler?" Boom shruged." Just the smartest person in the Candy Kingdom next to princess bubblegum sadly he won't be around for a bit he's currently recovering from an incident so I don't think he'll be around much."he decided not telling her about the dark magic would be for the best. The two of them eventually reaching the Cotton Candy Forest where the large form of Spike rested after a little bit of walking. Spike had remained relatively the same with Fluttershy and him playing Tic-Tac-Toe in the dirt. Currently Fluttershy was winning. Spike turned his head noticing the two approaching figures."hey guys what's up!"Spike blurted out in excitement. Twilight giggles going over to hug the giant head of Spike who nuzzled back. Boom can help but smile at this it was truly a sight to see. It's not every day a unicorn person hugs they're Giant dragon surrogate son. But booms of warm feeling quickly faded as another feeling took over. This was a feeling of dread of hatred but it wasn't his own. Boom turned his gaze to the forest we're a lone figure stood in the shadows. If it weren't for his demon eye you never would have spotted it. The figure was at least 7 ft tall dark black robes covered the entire body with a hood obscuring the face. Metal gauntlets were the only thing visible and in its hand was a small black cylinder object. An object boom knew too well. The figure in boom stared at each other for what felt like an eternity well Twilight talked with Spike about last few days their words faded in the background to him. But he had to act he knew exactly what was about to happen but he could only speak."run."Twilight and Spike caught notice of them along with Fluttershy. Twilight was about to say something before boom turned to her."RUN!"he screamed as the figure emerged from The Shadow holding up the cylinder and a blade of red light shot from it lighting up the area in a red glow.

3 the dragon and the two ponies looked at the face of their friend the terror across it and anger. They knew better than to question that face. Two girls quickly hopped on spikes back who took off towards the castle leaving boom with the figure."what's wrong boom didn't you miss me~."the figure mocked seductively in a female voice. Boom didn't respond as he pulled his guns from his satchel pointing them at her."not even slightly you piece of shit."she chuckled she enjoyed the anger coming from him and he knew it. But he couldn't help it it was the person he hated most in this world or any world."fuck you Lily!"boom unleashed six shots from each gun unloading them on her the flashes filling the forest. But she stood there the bullets merely creating Sparks on her as they fell to the ground."oh boomy did you really think your little guns were going to do shit against me?"a devious chuckle came from her her blade raised up in a fighting stance."it really was more about the principle of it."boom joked. The two stared for a minute."well I'm assuming you came here to kill me so why not get the fight over with already it's not like you'll win anyway!"boom fight desperately to keep his anger out of his voice but her presence only fueled it."boomy boomy I did want to kill you but now someone has showed me the right way~. They showed me the best way to get revenge is to make you suffer~."this time a cackle came from her as she raised her hand."but I wasn't quite sure how to go about it but thanks to those cute little friends of yours I now have something to torture you with. You always did have a taste for the Smart ones~."boom's red eye glowed in anger. Lily had just threatened his newfound relationship and it hadn't even been a day yet."if you lay a hand on her on any of them I will hunt you down till the last world falls! Not even palpatine will be able to save you from my wrath!"he roared at the saber welding woman."how will I have the time to torture your friends when you'll be too busy killing them~?"she asked. Boom's face went to one of anger to fear."you wouldn't!"he couldn't see her smile but he could feel it."oh I fucking dare~what's that thing you used to say bada bing bada boom or some shit~."she raised her hand as a stream of lightning left it hitting boom causing his body to fill with electricity. The pain for him was unbearable but it wasn't the pain that caused him to scream."NOOOOOO!"she then lifted boom tossing him towards the Candy Castle and he flew he flew all the way to the castle and right through the walls landing in the center chamber where everyone besides Spike was gathered. And his Golden eye shines one last time before turning red. A dark blood red.

#mlp fandom #adventure time #twilight sparkle #slight romance #fluttershy #star wars fandom #fanfic #writing #comedy #dramatic #action #mlp gen 4

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dustedmagazine · 3 years

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Listed: His Name Is Alive

While Warren Defever’s name is perhaps less recognizable than that of his band His Name Is Alive, he’s also been connected with a seemingly endless array of other projects: Princess Dragon-Mom, Elvis Hitler, ESP Beetles, Control Panel, and far more. This doesn’t get into his recording and production credits for the likes of Michael Hurley, Iggy and the Stooges, and Mdou Moctar. Forever associated with Michigan’s weirdo-underground music scene, Defever has recently been issuing a series of long-buried recordings as His Name Is Alive. In February, the Disciples label released Hope Is a Candle, the third and final volume in the "Home Recordings" trilogy exploring Defever's teenage tape experimentation as well as A Silver Thread (Home Recordings 1979 - 1990), a four-volume collection of many of Defever’s solo home recordings prior to His Name Is Alive releasing their debut album Livonia on 4AD in 1990. In his review of A Silver Thread, Tim Clarke writes “For a collection of home recordings, what’s most striking about this music is how fully realized and carefully executed it sounds, comparable at times to contemporary artists such as Grouper, Benoît Pioulard and Tim Hecker. This is not the 1980s that I remember.”

Defever gives us his “What Else Is New” list, a set of personal snapshots, memories of a life spent in music, warning the reader that “the descriptions don’t always have an obvious correlation to the video, but welcome to my nightmare brain.”

In The Line of Fire

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I started performing when I was five. My grandfather was a self-taught musician from Saskatchewan in Western Canada and he showed me and my brothers how to play banjo, guitar and fiddle. One of my earliest memories is having a full size 127 lb. accordion placed onto my lap and my grandmother voicing her disappointment when I refused to play. I did learn slide guitar from her later though. I have many, often terrible, memories of performing at square dances with his band and we would play old timey country music, folk songs, polkas and waltzes. There were also gigs at the trailer park, old folks homes and a convent. Although my grandfather believed that popular music died with Hank Williams in 1953, he still found room in his heart for Lawrence Welk and Slim Whitman.

Meet Me By The Water

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By age ten I had a tape recorder and was using it to capture the sounds of nearby lakes, thunderstorms, and my older brothers LP collection played at the wrong speeds. I recently found the cassette, Echo Lake (1983) which features waves crashing onto the beach on the Canadian side of Lake St. Clair but it was recorded right after I got an echo pedal so it’s got a heavy dose of dreamy delay. Tape loops of the next door neighbor raking leaves and shoveling the driveway would be repurposed a few years later as rhythm tracks on the first His Name Is Alive LP, Livonia (4AD, 1990). Detroit in the late 70s and early 80s had totally insane radio and one of the highlights was Met-Ezzthetics, a late night show on WDET hosted by Faruq Z. Bey who also played saxophone in Griot Galaxy. Shortly before his death he played with His Name is Alive and we had a chance to formalize our student-teacher relationship.

Search For Higher Energies

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In high school I was studying Bach Chorale harmonization and counterpoint during the day but recording and touring with the band Elvis Hitler at night. The other guys in band were older but at 16 I was a familiar sight at shitty Detroit punk clubs and Hamtramck dive bars, the nerdy teenager reading a book or doing homework sitting at the bar waiting ’til midnight or 1am for our slot to play our hellbilly hits, “It’s A Long Way From Berlin To Memphis,” and “Hot Rod To Hell.” I was still trying to make sense of the post 1953 music scene and when I met the guy with a giant afro and shiny super hero outfit complete with shiny cape I had no idea he was Rob Tyner of the MC5. We released three records before I was twenty one and played shows and toured with Devo, the Dwarves, the Dead Milkmen, Reverend Horton Heat, the Beat Farmers, Helios Creed, Babes In Toyland, the Cro-Mags, Corrosion of Conformity, the Frogs, the Gories, Pussy Galore, the Unsane and way more I can’t remember I was just a kid. It was some kind of education.

You Don’t Have To Go Home But You Can’t Stay Here

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When I signed with 4AD I thought I was a composer and they let me write my own bio, so I called His Name Is Alive the work of a “fucked up, irresponsible teenage composer.” I had only been writing music for three years. When I heard “Tom Violence” by Sonic Youth I thought for the first time in my life, “I think I could do that.” In 1988 I made a mixtape with Tracy Chapman’s Fast Car, Leadbelly and some of Big Star’s third album and I tried to arrange it like it was an album, then I made my own album in that same shape, it was called I Had Sex With God and I sent it to 4AD. Our first album contained three of the first five pieces of music I had ever written. Within a few years I was playing festivals for contemporary classical composers and new age artists who were thirty or forty years older than me. His Name Is Alive played the Musicas Visuales Festival in Mexico with Harold Budd, Paul Horn and Jorge Reyes. The mayor of the city presented me with a guitar but then dramatically walked out of the theater during our performance realizing he had made a terrible mistake. I remember the surreal moment when from across the room Harold Budd walked in and greeted me as “Mr. Defever.” He had a cold and was sniffling during his set, the audience thought he was crying. I recorded his show and when I got back home to Livonia I added my own guitar to some of his songs and then edited the tapes, looping my favorite parts and editing out the parts I didn’t like, also adding additional layers of reverb and echo. More recently I did a concert in a five hundred year old temple in Japan where the unamplified meditation music never rose above a whisper and the monk had to turn off the furnace because the heat molecules were too loud. The show was recorded and released under the name Mountain Ocean Sun and features Ian Masters and Hitoko Sakai.

Energy Dealer

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Both my parents were born in Canada, my mother in Saskatchewan, my father in Ontario. I have dual citizenship as my father was American and my mother had Canadian citizenship. I spent summers, holidays and weekends in a tiny cottage on Lake St. Clair that did not have a telephone and had curtains instead of doors separating the two rooms. Myrt Fortin who lived next door would receive phone calls for my mom, walk over to our place and yell into the window, “Hey wake up your ma, your dad’s on the phone.” My mom took a lot of naps, so she was always asleep when something important was happening. I remember always getting cut on broken glass while swimming in the lake or getting stabbed by one of the neighbors and having to go wake up my mom to take me to the hospital.

Lord I Don’t Believe You Exist

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When I was ten my parents sat me down and told me it was time that I got a summer job. There were only two businesses in town, a gas station and a hardware store so I walked up to the hardware store and asked the owner for a job and immediately fell to the ground crying. Completely fell apart. He asked me why I wanted to work in hardware. I didn’t know what to say, I was only ten but I knew not to tell the owner that his store was stupid and I didn’t think he could handle the truth. It turned out he also owned the gas station so that didn’t really work out. Later that summer, I began working for the Pickseed Corporation as corn de-tasseling season was just beginning. All the moms would drop off their kids in the church parking lot in Tecumseh, just outside of Windsor, around 4:30am where an unmarked windowless cargo van was waiting that had cinderblocks and 2'x4' boards instead of benches so they could squeeze in the maximum amount of children. There were three job requirements to work in a cornfield, the child (it was only children, no adults) needed to show up with a baseball hat, a thermos with water and a large black plastic garbage bag. I think this was before sunglasses were invented. Upon arriving at the cornfield, we were separated into pickers and checkers, younger kids each taking a row of corn (a row could extend a mile or more) and a slightly older kid would organize and manage several of the younger kids. In the morning we were instructed to poke two arm holes and a head hole into our garbage bags and put it on like a raincoat because the corn was covered in dew and kids wearing wet clothes would walk slower than dry kids. So almost every day there was a point, usually around 11am when the dew would dry and we would be roasted alive from the summer sun coming down on our ridiculous shiny black plastic outfits. We worked from sun up until sun down. I received three dollars and thirty five cents an hour. For all you city folks, corn is planted in alternating rows of types of corn so that when the top part of the plant is removed, or “de-tasseled,” it can seed or cross-pollinate easily. It’s a terrible job with a high turnover rate and every day I would hear the sound of kids in nearby rows that had given up hope, sat down in the middle of the field and crying for hours. The following year, at age 11, I was promoted from picker to checker, and was put in charge of a group of about ten sixteen year old’s.

Sleep It Off

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Mostly I like to record – His Name is Alive has over a hundred releases and I’ve done another fifty records under various names, Control Panel, Warren Michael Defever, ESP BEETLES, ESP SUMMER, Forest People, Infinity People, Jeepers Creepers, Layla al-Akhyaliyya, Mirror Dream, Princess Dragon-Mom, the Dirt Eaters, the Fishcats, the Whales, plus way more I can’t remember probably because the names were so dumb. I’ve recorded about four hundred records for other bands at my house or other studios. I’ve worked on records with Danny Kroha, Ida, Fred Thomas, Elizabeth Mitchell, Wild Belle, Michael Hurley, and when I was a teenager I helped record the first Gories album which was especially unique as I was the junior assistant engineer who helped move their equipment into the dirt floor garage next to the studio where it was decided the acoustics would be way worse. Also, I helped collage about a hundred Destroy All Monsters tapes from the 70s for a couple of their releases which led to remastering a bunch of tapes from the John Sinclair White Panther Party archives. I’ve done remixes for Thurston Moore and Yoko Ono and when Iggy and The Stooges started touring again I got a phone call from Ron Asheton seeing if I would help them record demos for their reunion album with Mike Watt on bass. They wrote the songs together while they were recording in Niagara’s basement sort of simultaneously. Iggy didn’t have a notebook with all his lyric ideas, instead he just sang about whatever happened that day – one song was about the airline losing his luggage, one about ATM machines and another was about reading in a newspaper that Ray Davies of the Kinks had been shot in New Orleans. In the end they weren’t terribly excited by my suggested song titles including “No Shirt” (you know because it’s like “No Fun” plus you know Iggy never wears a shirt) and they didn’t seem to love the mixes that I did that sounded kind of like those crappy Raw Power bootlegs.

Cost Of Living

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Two summers ago I recorded an incredible concert by Mdou Moctar live at Third Man Records in Detroit. They’re wild hypnotic Hendrix style jammers who live in the desert. The band didn’t speak much english but I think I was able to communicate to them how excited I was about their amazing fingerpicking and hot guitar solos after the show by screaming and replaying the best solos over and over again and then screaming the word fuzz and pointing at their fingers. It’s insane and having seen them a few times since then with a different drummer and the addition of a bass player, I’m convinced it’s their best album. It’s wild but it’s still not Tchin-tabaraden wedding wild.

Licked By Lions

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Jonathan Richman walks into Ethan and Gretchen's studio and asks if I can remove all the rugs, take the acoustic treatments off the walls and strike the baffles which normally separate the instruments, drums and amps, so the room will have the most echo possible, he has also invited about ten friends including Johnny Bee Badanjek the drummer from Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels and Mary Cobra from the Detroit Cobras to dance, sing and play percussion in the studio while he records. He has two vocal microphones set up at either end of the room and has brought his own microphones for the drums along with his own desired placement for them. He notices a tamboura near the control room and asks if I know how to play it or if I know how to tune it. Within seconds he’s tuned it and proceeds to sing Indian classical music accompanying himself on tamboura drone for about thirty five minutes. It’s beautiful and very surprising. He asks me if I recorded it, I lie and say no. Later he asks me not to play it for anyone. We record for hours. Some songs are quite long – ten and fifteen minutes, some are medleys of oldies or soft rock hits from the seventies segueing into new songs of his. It’s a confusing session as it’s not clear when songs are starting and ending and he often plays guitar and sings nowhere near a microphone. The distance between him and the microphone seems to have some meaning, there’s some formula to when he chooses to walk away in the middle of a verse but I am unable to determine the secret code. At the end of the session three or four songs are deemed usable, edited and mixed, although, sadly, an attempt at a completely insane and unexpected fuzz guitar solo is left unreleased. (The Harold Budd piece is at the opposite end of this spectrum.)

Calling All Believers

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Shortly after Tecuciztecatl was released, I received an email from Dr. James Beacham at CERN inviting us to perform at a series of concerts that would combine experimental music with experimental science at the Large Hadron Collider in Geneva, Switzerland. He didn’t contact our booking agent, which would be how we generally receive offers for gigs, instead he sent an email to me, which would be how we generally receive crazy messages from our completely insane fans (murderous, delusional, poetic, threatening messages usually). I assumed the invitation was fake or a prank and replied that we would prefer to wait until they had successfully opened a pathway to interspatial dimensions and we’d play on the other side or that if that was unlikely to happen at a convenient time then perhaps we could set up our equipment right on the edge of a mini-black hole and perform as the Earth is being destroyed so we could release the concert film “Live At The End Of The World.” After a few messages back and forth, it was clear that he was legit and I apologized for being such a jerk. Soon I discovered poetry within the language of particle physics as well as a certain beauty in the idea that these scientists have devoted their lives to dreaming, searching and discovering basic principles that connect all things in existence. The song “Calling All Believers” refers to this devotion. “Energy Acceleration” compares the scientists to monastic life in medieval times and mystics trying to find and define the line between this world and the next and at the same time invoking the incredible amounts of energy needed to create the collisions experiments. The Patterns of Light LP was released in 2016 on London London Records and is about interpreting visions of light, trying to find universal truth with whatever tools available, it’s about the search for how everything works, why it works and how it got that way but also about being inspired on a basic level by the way a thing looks and how all your senses take in a thing. A thousand years ago Hildegard Von Bingen was writing about this same thing in letters, songs, medical texts, and had even developed her own language to use in her mystical writings, similar to Magma drummer Christian Vander using his own language for their concept albums or French black metalists Brenoritvrezorkre and Moëvöt.

The Light Inside You

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We get a lot of letters from fans, mostly weirdos though. I think it started when we released Song of Schizophrenia, that sort of connected us to a certain demographic I suspect. Here’s a recent typical message we received. “Growing up in Panama City, Mouth By Mouth and Livonia were like passages to other realms. I drank a ton of cough syrup at the time but those albums helped make life more livable. I was about to go to art school for sculpture and graphic design and the textures I heard on those records had actual shapes to them. Most music I knew at that time was flat or linear. I got them on cassette via mail-order from an ad placed in a bmx magazine. Mouth By Mouth arrived just before going to work at the amusement park and I was able to listen to it twice on the way thanks to the never-ending beach traffic. As luck would have it, I worked on “The Abominable Snowman” ride, basically a tilt-a-whirl inside a dome with lots of fog machine action, blue lights, mirrors, and lots of air conditioning. It took about 10 listens that day before it wasn’t as weird as when I first put it on. Maybe it was my bubblegum flavor/robitussin combo slushie on top of no-doz that pulled it all together, but it was probably a weird ride for a lot of vacationing beach tourists and townies when all they really wanted to hear was “Naughty by Nature” by O.P.P. I had no business running those rides at the age of 17 but I really loved how disorienting that ride could be with all the mirrors, the fog, the cold and for the final 90 seconds the ride would go in reverse. I had a buddy named Kevin that did acid at work and would repeatedly run the mini-train off the tracks and all the riders had to walk back through the woods for about a half mile that summer.”

#dusted magazine #listed #his name is alive #warren defever #warren michael defever #poppy #griot galaxy #faruq z. bey #slim whitman #mdou moctar #sly stone #harold budd #steve wonder #elvis hitler #princess dragon-mom

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Wicked

“Hey, Nat?”

Naturally poking a trained killer would have anyone on the wrong end of the death stick. But after your years of building a friendship after having literally totaled the top three floors of Stark Tower by having crashed into it stopping a shuttle from obliterating the city, post border crossing with some alien scavengers who had knocked it off course she knew how hard it had been for you. Years of reigning in your strength and even control of your voice that could sway others to doing what you wanted later, she smirked still every time you stole a successful pat on her arm without bruising it or knocking her around by accident.

“Hey, hope you enjoyed your day, just spent mine wrangling some four legged creepers out of the Dodgers Stadium.”

Steve from the other side of the counter in the kitchen called back, “Hey! That kid tripped me, none of that was my fault!”

Sam scoffed, still muttering to himself rubbing a cloth vigorously onto his jacket to get a mustard stain off of it. From the scuffle ending the pair of them on the news while Bucky was dangling from the balcony to the dugout shouting at one of the players who had made a kid cry after he’d gotten struck out yet again.

“Well, it was, mainly, online, browsing.” Her brow inched up noting your nerves peaking up again meaning things might start levitating around the room soon. “I have a question, favor really.”

“Sure, whatcha got for me? Anything to get me out of the on call pool tonight.”

“Well, you’re good at blending in,” she nodded, “And I got these tickets, but I don’t know how fancy is too fancy to go see a show on Broadway, and all I have might be a bit too sparkly after my sequin,” your tone slowed as she stood up and grabbed her coat, “Shopping, trip.”

You looked her over and she gave you a kind grin, “Let’s go shopping. Find you something stunning.”

Trotting after her on your toes you said, “Well, not too stunning, I mean I have some voom, but I don’t want to be too va va voom, to a show. It’s not my show, I’m just going.” Again she smirked at you hitting the button for the elevator, “It’ll be dark, but I don’t want to distract. I just, by all accounts I shouldn’t be able to afford the show, but I helped that guy with that bus crash and he said his son works the counter and knows another guy he didn’t name and they put me down for tickets for whichever show I wanted. Which really isn’t all that logical a gift I mean they’re losing out funds to give me two seats-,”

Her hand folded around yours pulling it from twisting around your shirt button. “Pluto, you stopped a bus from plowing through the theater on Broadway, everyone that works there owes it to you that they still have their jobs and the theater and production companies all because you flicked your hand to stop a bus and help an old man that stumbled off the curb. Two seats is so far from damaging to how badly that crash would have been. You earned it. Now what did you want to wear?” She asked stepping into the lift.

“Well, I wanted to wear one of my sequin minis, but again, sparkly, I didn’t want to distract. So, black perhaps. Many films have said that a simple black dress should be a staple to one’s wardrobe.”

“That it should. I prefer black, always does the trick, and don’t you worry about your va va voom. Only people worried about your voom will be dropping dead quickly enough from jealousy.”

“I don’t believe that is how jealousy works.” Making her smirk again and pat your arm, “Ah, another verbal intricacy.”

Over a black bandage dress set to hug you perfectly you looked to your friend while she suggested a pair of heels she had gone with you to buy months prior after seeing her sighing over a shoe sale advertised in a magazine you asked, “This weekend, are you busy?”

“Unfortunately. That when your show is?”

“Yes,”

“Well I could see if Bucky could stand in for me.”

Shaking your head you said, “No, they need a brain there. I can, ask someone, someone fun.” The sentence and sure nod you had given yourself in a sweeping glance over the store had her holding back a chuckle and glancing back to the rack of shrugs you might like with a bit of shimmer to fit your preferred palette of a tad bit sparkly and a blend of colors resembling galaxies. Her focus there bringing you back on your mental ramblings as to who to ask dipping back into picking out something to help keep you warm in case it got a bit chilly.

Back to the tower you went and through each room you went pausing to glance at each person inside, every person in varying levels of being accustomed to your awkward ways, always with Peter overreacting. That tingly sense he got that he was being observed while distracted ended up with him chucking his the mask Tony had just finished polishing for his new suit halfway across the room into the rubbish bin making Tony’s jaw drop open with a stunned scoff.

Noticing it was you however Peter turned and sprung across the room, “Sorry Tony, habit.”

Tony, “I just polished it…”

Peter, “Just so used to it being my Aunt, not Miss Pluto.” Digging it out and buffing it with the elbow of his sweater.

Passing that room you continued on to the study where you found your chosen target. Right onto the cushion beside the raven haired Prince, who was seated with brows furrowed in focus on his Mahjong game on his tablet, you sat luring his eyes right to you as your legs were crossed between you and your finger tapped his elbow. “You’re fun.”

The grin on your face causing him to lower the tablet to his lap and shift in his seat in confusion, “It has been some time since I have been told that. Might I ask the importance of my talents of amusement?”

“Well, see I have tickets to a show, and you’re a Prince, Princes go to shows all the time so I thought I might see if you wanted to go with me.”

“There are two Princes in this building.”

“Yes, however, I would prefer to not ask Thor, he would draw the wrong sort of attention while I am meaning to see the show, not distract from it. No doubt he’d get bored and start juggling chairs or something.” The thought making Loki smirk your way.

“That is my argument in my favor? The ability to behave myself in tedious situations?”

“Absolutely not.” You fired back making him smirk at you. “See, I have tickets and Nat helped me to pick out a dress and you’re a Prince and Princes go to shows but normally I don’t fit the look of someone who could afford Broadway tickets. I figured if you might go then I might not be taken as out of place because, well, Prince.”

The final word was accented with another poke only luring his smirk out more, “Even without me you would fit in perfectly.” In the sink of your brows he stated, “I shall go, when is the show?”

“Saturday.”

He nodded then looked you over as you moved to turn so you might stand asking, “Why do you let them call you Pluto? That is the name they have assigned your home planet, but not your name.”

Your eyes met his, “Not everyone has a name so kind to tongues as yours, Prince Loki.”

“Your name is very kind,”

“They lack the vocal vibration necessary to perfectly pronounce my name without issuing insult. Pluto is a lovely alias.”

“Why did you choose this planet?”

“My father tried to eat me.” His brow inched up, “Unlike Asgardians our Lords may only father one child.”

“He required a son.”

“No, he burned for one.”

“I suppose it would be safer for you to remain here then and not return home. Figures you might try to acclimate. Though Asgard would always welcome you.”

“Oh yes, who could be concerned with the Jotuns once a Plunoie has touched their golden grounds.”

“They would never treat you as I have been. You are the daughter of a Lord and will be treated as such.”

“Says you,”

“Even Thor is fond of your company and Mother has always been curious of Pluto. She would defend you.”

“All the same, enjoy your game Prince Loki. Go for the dragon.” His brow arched up and he looked to his tablet again finding the matching dragon tiles he tapped making him smirk at a lotus tile he needed.

There was no question of what you had chosen, merely the creeping joy that he was the Prince you had chosen to support you in this. He knew all too well just how fragile these creatures could be and how long it had taken him to master his own skills to remain among them for their safety. Far superior to their beings without a drop of cruelty in you he had to marvel how you pushed yourself to control easing yourself to safe levels among mortals within a few meager years while it took Asgardians hundreds with scarce blip of trips to Midguard to test their control among them. If you had asked for support in this support you would get from him on this occasion and any other.

Wicked. The word was splashed across the billboards and posters and at the door you showed your tickets that seemed to trigger a ripple of gestures ushering you and Prince Loki through the crowds with great ease straight to your seats right up front with what they called the best view in the house. The people around you and the task of getting here just barely enough to keep him from staring at you dumbly since Pepper had made sure that he and you managed to get into the elevator at all in the double sided stare down.

Settled down in place with legs crossed for you both Loki’s gaze shifted from the playbill in his lap to the lanterns on the walls flickering luring focus to you. Without missing a beat up his arm went to rest across the armrest between you to ease his fingertips between the palms of your hands tangling in your lap from nerves. Once your eyes fell on him through the vibrating pulses that had started to form in your hands his fingers eased to intertwine with yours acting as a buffer to stop the reaction interfering with the electronics in the block. Lowly he whispered to you mentally, “You are doing lovely so far. Just breathe.”

“Have you seen this show before?”

“No. Although I have read it is something of a prequel to the Wizard of Oz.”

“I do hope it does not bore you.”

Again his eyes shifted to glance at his hand fixed in yours stirring an urge to beam brightly like an idiot for finally claiming more than a greeting poke from you. The action a way of proving that unlike the mortals you didn’t have to hold back with him or be afraid to harm him, and have one person on this planet who didn’t leave you a nervous wreck to upset or harm by accident. Also unaware of how much his action had comforted you in his fearless taking of your hand. Finally having some form of contact with a being strong enough to equal yourself, at least in day to day tasks and situations.

“You could never bore me.” The words echoed in your head a few moments until a snap of a picture being snapped of the pair of you by a woman hurrying by had your focus on her. Only to see an usher come to escort her out for disturbing fellow ticket holders stirring up an argument from her she was unable to win as when told to delete the photo to get in she posted it online. “See, no one ever wants my picture.”

You glanced at him to the stroke of his thumb along the side of your hand, “No doubt more comments will pop up to see what I destroy this time.”

“Another reason why I am your ideal companion on outings, equally as culpable for damage to the public. I don’t mind playing the villain to spare you unjust scorn.” Softly he gazed back at you with an easy grin on his face shifting to the warning the show was beginning in a moment. Over the audience a hush fell and your eyes shifted to the curtain in the dimming of the lights signaling his own hand to tighten a tad from his own nerves and yours to fold around his.

‘No One Mourns the Wicked’ seemed to set the mood that they were setting up the lead role for Elphaba to be the main focus. ‘The Wizard and I’ though lovely seemed to make your stomach sink knowing how the sequel ends. By ‘No Good Deed’ you and Loki both leaned together, with your second hand clutching his sleeve at the elbow resting into his arm while he did the same to yours. Up with the crowds you stood with his hand keeping your hand he looped around his elbow saying, “You can just pat my arm.” Knowing your timid stance on clapping too hard so he clapped and you merely tapped finger tips around his arm easily disguised in the dim audience and while the lights rose an usher came to escort you both out first to keep you from being hounded by press while they lined up for the stage door experience.

“That-,” out of the pair of you for the show was all you could muster up to discus the flawless yet all too familiar notions behind the role. Good intentions landing someone as a named villain hounded and insulted at any chance given. Outside your car had been called by the valet and into it you eased with Loki strolling around to drive. Stealing a glance your way he buckled up then shifted in his seat with blinker on to pull out heading back to the tower.

Glancing your way again to your soft sigh he heard you say, “It’s so sad.”

“Yes it is. Wonderful, but sad.”

“I thought it was supposed to be happy. Pepper said it was the better choice of the two offered. Other one’s about chess. She said it was sad.”

Loki’s brows furrowed at the slowing of the traffic making him stop asking, “If the chess one was sad by her terms no doubt we would have left absolutely depressed.”

Sudden clunks of buildings going dark from a rolling blackout had groans filling the street and glancing around you checked the cars around you and lifted your hand to try and hover the car back only for Loki to pat the back of it saying, “I’ve got it.” One swish of his hand and the car was coated in green glowing smoke that in a flash had you parked in its usual spot back in Stark Tower Garage. “Now, for another surprise. I promised you dinner.”

Curiously out you climbed once he’d teleported to open the door with hand offered to help you up, making certain to keep close. Once again taking in each tempting detail of your unbelievable self just barely a foot in front of him. “Cooking? You cook?” You asked seeing him all but glowing in the faint light from the emergency beams in each corner while the tower whirred powering up on its backup generator.

At that he smirked saying, “I am now.” Again his hand melded to yours through your soft squeak. “Heimdall,” Bright lights flooded the garage to the Bifrost opening and once inside the golden dome your eyes dropped to the plume of a rainbow coated cloud of vapor escaping your lips. Lifting your hand you grinned seeing your skin again naturally glimmering with prisms of light, rainbows dancing across it in each movement. Looking up to Loki your eyes were no longer purple but in each glance away reflected the same galaxies the curls laid down your back in a dangling strip from the end of your rolled over bun Wanda had helped to pin securely.

“Welcome back Prince Loki,” the head of the gold clad guardian bowed to him then turned to you speaking in your own tongue rather roughly, “Welcome, Lady.”

Smirking at him you replied, “I take it-,” your words halted seeing the cloud escaping your lips much like the ones when freshly landed on Earth had caused earthquakes after affecting the atmosphere luring your free hand to your lips.

Loki stated in a pat of his fingertips on your arm, “You are safe to our planet,” meant exactly as he had said it, turning your head to catch his nod, “Our atmosphere is much thicker than Midguard. You are safe here.”

Facing the guard again you said, “You are Heimdall.”

“I am, yes.”

“Did you see the show?”

“Yes, while you are here perhaps you may prefer one of ours.”

Loki’s hand still holding yours shifted as he said, “For now, I am cooking us supper.”

Heimdall’s brow inched up, “I am not doubting your skill, however, Queen Frigga has put much effort into its preparation.”

Flatly Loki replied, “Breakfast then.” Making the guard smirk at his first step down the golden steps you looked down to taking a step at a time with the Prince pausing to see the pencil skirt fighting against the movement.

It was only two steps yet all the more adorable when you caught his eye saying, “I neglected to practice on stairs.”

Heimdall glanced away pretending the blush inching onto Loki’s cheeks replying, “Mastered already.”

Nodding you replied, “For every lie you tell me I expect five steps in a handstand,” he smirked at you and chuckled as you added, “I will waive this first offence.”

“I did not lie.” You paused with a brow raised and he repeated, “I did not lie! That second step, you mastered it.” Your eyes narrowed slightly and his dazed grin eased out making you turn away.

“I am watching you.” He nodded stepping as you did out into the bright moonlight that dimmed your impressive colorful shimmer to your shielded yet still glittering self cast in rainbows reflecting the bridge the Prince led you across.

“That I am grateful for.” He hummed pointing out clusters of stars until you got far enough from the Bifrost he could turn and point saying, “And that-,”

“Pluto.” Stepping back he watched your eyes dart to the bridge and up again to the distant city shining brightly making you ask, “Is it hard to clean, all that gold?”

Smirking at you he replied, “We have our ways to ensure it remains intact and glimmering for guests.” All the way across he pointed out different locations until the guards around the city curiously looked over the new guest everyone was curious about. Thor had brought handfuls of guests home but you were the first Loki had invited, as well as the first of your race, leaving no clue on what to expect.

Golden halls with thick tapestries ended in what you could take as the throne room by the massive golden throne looking far from comfortable. Each shadow you passed through between flaming bowl stands brought out your same glowing appearance from the Bifrost fading away again in the light of the flames cast your way. Right in front of the throne you eyed the blonde woman clad in an elegant green gown Loki released your hand to embrace. “Mother,” he said smiling looking her over to turn to you still smiling brightly halting your head nod her way a moment, “I would like to introduce my guest,”

Frigga cut him off, “Please do tell us your true name, I would not wish to disrespect you by using the name Midgardians can pronounce.”

Through a deep breath you wet your lips replying, “I am called, Ku-l’ua Jaqiearae.” The name a faint echoing hum from your lullaby tone.

Frigga nodded her head repeating, “Lady, Ku-l’ua,”

That had you giggle and say, “No, Ku is exiled, l’ua is Heir of what you might call Duke. On my planet my rank was T’y’pn-eo. Third Heir of, Duke. And it is said after my name, I was given the name but exile was my choice. But Lady Jaqiearae will suffice here, Queen Frigga.”

Frigga smiled saying, “We shall master your titles soon, Lady Jaqiearae. For now, we have a lovely meal waiting for you.”

“Thank you.”

Her arm circled Loki’s as he offered it and she asked, “How was the show?”

Loki’s lips pursed and he replied, “Well, for a rather light hearted theme it bore quite the drastic undertone.”

Dinner went well and at Loki’s shared comment on breakfast you were granted a spare set of pajamas flowing and not silken as they appeared, though much like in mangas you had seen with a frilly top and barely visible frilly shorts underneath in a pale blue. Either way you were here to sleep although wide eyed after simply touching the bed a waft of rose shot through the air in the puff of smoke erupting from the golden silk sheet under the folded back thickly embroidered comforter in a dark grey. Glancing from your hands to the sheets again you turned to your balcony Loki had commented being shared by his room, across a small gap of course, so he might call you out to see the first of their two suns rising. “Pst!”

Lounging in his favorite pajamas on his fainting couch with his favorite book his grin dimmed a moment turning his head to his open balcony, “Loki!” This time you had whispered a tad louder luring the Prince to close his book and stand up to venture out hearing a second, “Pst!” Not three steps later you repeated, “Lo-,” out he stepped with brows raised curious what the problem was while you took in his long forest green shirt clad self seemingly in no pants visible by the length of his shirt baring strips of his toned thighs. “I lit my bed on fire.”

His brows shot up more planting his hands on the rail between you trying to glance inside your room, “You-,”

“It’s out now.” His eyes were on you again then in a puff of green smoke he zapped to your side walking into your room, “I didn’t mean to. I just touched the sheet and, pfft,”

He glanced at you, “Smoke, makes, a, pfft.”

After a few blinks he asked, “Why does it reek of roses in here?”

“I can’t touch flowers,” He glanced at you again, “Pfft,”

Trying not to smile at your worried wide eyed star-like self he turned easing his hand around you to plant on your back guiding you to the balcony, “Stay with me tonight.”

“But, they said that’s my room.”

On the balcony you glanced around at the puff of green smoke coating then washing away on the breeze from you both at his zapping you to his balcony, “Well we certainly can’t stay out here. The guards change in two minutes.” Leading you inside to his much comfier looking silver and black monster of a bed on a raised platform coated in spotted fur blankets layered across it lit by the roaring fireplace behind his former reading spot. “No flowers here. Get some sleep, I planned on reading a bit first.”

Timidly you did climb into his bed laying an absurd six feet in directly in the middle with a huge fur pillow under your head. Twelve curious minutes you laid there wondering at the lack of a page being turned, looking again to Loki as you rolled onto your side, asking after nearly a half hour of failing to fall asleep. “What are you reading?” His eyes flinched up to you utterly forgetting the book in his hands or the subject it was on by your starlight self glowing so cozily from his bed.

Softly he sighed finding his feet and closing his book he carried over and once he had settled onto the bed in front of you a few feet away he propped himself up reading the cover to you before starting on the first page. “Are you tired?” You asked after his fourth time rereading a line he’d already read aloud to the shift of one of your feet or hands making you wonder if he was simply tired or if you were distracting him from the task at hand somehow. The thought made more amusing by the trickle of a faint blush across his cheeks.

“I believe a few more pages might be managed before I retire.”

“Perhaps I might try to sleep. I bid you a mortal goodnight rest, Prince Loki.”

Faking a shift to roll over you hid your urge to smirk when he looked your way asking, “A mortal goodnight,” with a sigh he said, “Perhaps one day you might share a Plunoie goodnight.”

“If you are certain, I will oblige.” Up you inched to prop up on a hip and hand closing the distance between you freezing the Prince in place to the fall of your shadow over his cheek. A whisper, or perhaps the tap of a nose or forehead, possible trace of a finger across skin or cup of a cheek. A slap would even have been expected before this, as from the square of his jaw across his cheek to his forehead the skin on his face rippled blue with ridges easing out following the trace of your tongue. “May asteroids barrage your nightmares, Prince Loki.”

Back you shifted to lay in your former spot feeling his wide red eyed stare following you, voice lost for only moments before he could ask, “Plunoie, lick, one another, to sleep?”

Shaking your head his mouth dropped open to your spreading smile, “Nope.”

“Ugh, trickster,” he said dropping his book at his side in a slide closer, “I will show you a goodnight of my own.” Ruffling up the covers to have nothing between him and your curled self drawing a squeak from you stirring a cloud of mist above the bed glimmering like a storm of stars in a sunset sky. To your giggle when his hands found your waist easing you up against his side the clouds spread to fill the room releasing a group of firefly like lights that flew around withering after moments while the multicolored blush more Technicolor strobe light than your usual rainbow prism glimmer across your cheeks split his smile wide in curiosity for what the sudden reaction really meant in that moment.

Leaning over you his hand rose from your waist to tenderly trace up your cheek opposite him, cupping it ever so gently ghosting his thumb slower to meet the rest of his fingers adoring the feel of the skin underneath he’d so longed to touch. From hovering above you his face lowered and cheek to cheek in a lullaby of a whisper in Asgardian, “To my star most precious and pure, dreams of adventure and bliss I bid thee, most dear one.” Eye to eye again when he drew back the lights spread again to the deepening of an adoring gaze from the Prince absorbing each intimate moment of this. Forehead to forehead his head rested to your mental count of four followed by alternating taps of his nose on either side of yours reaching that same number. “Rest well, Ku-l’ua Jaqiearae”

Back he pulled to lay back again in his old spot and you asked watching him, “What was the whisper?”

Bringing a finger to his lips in the lift of his book again he shushed you narrowing your eyes, “Sleep now.”

“Five steps, now.” Back to your face his eyes shifted seeing you point, “Handstand for the lie.”

“I did not lie. Merely said sleep now.”

“Now you order me about?”

“I would not dare.”

“Handstand.”

“No,”

“No?” You giggled out luring his eyes to the firefly like lights distracting him against your push on his side bumping him off his bed. To cushion his fall he stirred up a green cloud dissipating to lower him gently contrasting his otherwise painful landing.

Locking his eyes on you his narrowed in a sharp huff, “You boot me from my own bed?”

“You are not getting back in this bed until you give me my five steps.”

“Fine, next Saturday however you are entirely at my mercy, no arguments on my plans, not a one.” Without awaiting your response forward he forced himself off the platform onto his palms in a steady handstand halting a moment to the drop of the lower portion of the shirt folding over his torso revealing a strip of his belly above his shorts now revealed with buttons down the side of his thighs. One at a time once centered five steps were taken and on the sixth he turned dropping a leg to take his weight granting him a steady rise up in lowering the second to walk back to the bed. “Five steps, as demanded.”

Slyly through the spread of his smirk he hummed out, “Now,” back onto his bed he hopped easing from his knees to his former spot and closer still, “Sleep,” again you giggled at the tug you felt on your middle in his arm scooping you onto your side, back against his chest you settled with his one arm under your neck and the other around your middle. Colorful lights and mists thickened deepening the smirk hidden in the hair hiding the face burrowing into it. Down below the oddly colorful balcony steps from patrolling guards were heard passing by crossing to opposite check points, a sound like the again steadying of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. Behind you however the Prince’s mind whirled out of control wondering what he might just plan, both for breakfast and again for next Saturday.

Somewhere between sleep and wonder a prickle down his arm triggered the droop of his arm heavier around your waist showing sign of his sudden drop off to sleep. A calming numbness knowing that you had fallen asleep on his arm somehow signaled a much needed rest to begin. A sign that unlike when he slept on his side alone held him in place to not wake you, where alone would have him rolling over. Surely remaining awake would only prolong the discomfort so his body chose for him to keep you in place. Breakfast promised however just before sunrise stirred him and groggily he murmured, “Jaqiearae,” the gentle shake he gave drew a grumble in return only urging his head rolling back to confirm by how much light in his room he had to the first of two sunrises had him ease back scooping you up in his conscious arm leaving the other to drop over your curled legs while it stirred.

Half awake his feet carried the both of you to the same balcony he charmed his lounge to the perfect spot to settle down feeling the deep waking breaths from you alerting you would not miss this stunning sight far from your beauty, yet one you had yet to see. Down to the kitchens he led you startling more than a few servants along the way but none more than those coming in to find your giggling self smiling to his oddly adorable lopsided waffle stick castle surrounded by a moat of eggs with meat monsters throughout to be flooded with the as yet unnamed but oh so delicious sauce inside the castle seeping out to mingle their flavors excellently. The mess once all eaten was cleaned up by the both of you ending to the bubble coated Prince chasing your shrieking and giggling self after a surprise attack giving him a fading mustache sliding down around his neck.

Clearing his throat however once he’d caught you the sight of his mother on the other side of the fountain you had been caught trying to avoid he nodded his head saying, “Mother.”

Grinning herself she nodded her hear replying, “Loki dear, do be certain to add the singing fountains of silver on the southern courtyard once you have finished your tour of this one.”

“Yes, I shall.” On your upper back his hand settled stating, “My Grandmother settled the arrangements for these stones herself, and were she not carrying Mother perhaps laid them herself.” Just past another statue and in his hand yours rose to his lips for a jaw dropping lick down the back of your hand. Right after he released you and it was your turn to chase the now fleeing Prince chuckling himself at your stunned squeak.

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455

X Loki - @pastelhexmaniac

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @changlingkhat

#Loki x Reader OC #Marvel #Wicked #New Planets #New Friends #Trickster

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chaoticly-shy-dragon · 4 years

Text

Today was the day.

Today was the day, they were going to execute him.

Today was the day Darth Vader would finally meet the fate, he sentenced so many to.

He, of course, had been on trial, even if it was a closed and discreet one, specifically requested by the Alliance hero and Jedi - Luke Skywalker.

The Dark Lord’s fate was publicly announced on the Holonet approximately a day before the execution.

At first, the early reactions to the sentence were good and happily accepted. Those were the reactions from the high society in the Core.

The backlash that happened during the Coruscant night was massive and utterly unexpected.

Alliance’s posts were brutally attacked on some of the Outer Rim planets, many of the Imperial forces, who had been standing down, were arming up and thousands upon thousands of troopers were preparing to storm the city-planet.

Hundreds of planets started passive measurements against the notion - many planets, from Wobani to Cato Neimoidia, had stopped their trade with the Core.

The still vulnerable Senate was shocked and confused by the whole situation. When the people of Coruscant, started protesting in front of the Senate and the regulation posts that were installed on the planet, many senators didn’t know what to make from it.

The Senate was truly bewildered. Didn’t the people of the Galaxy know what atrocities the man had committed?

No matter what the public thought, in order not to sentence themselves to another war, the Senate agreed to delay or utterly change the sentence.

Once again Darth Vader had to stand a trial, but this time publicly.

The media jumped at the opportunity. Many reporters were sent to different parts of the galaxy to get answers.

The information they found was a bucket of cold water, spilled over the Alliance leaders.

Many articles popped out and with every one of them, the new government grew more and more bewildered.

Stories of Vader allying himself with local rebels to overthrow the Moff in charge of the planet, of him helping the flooded Akiva and other planets having a crisis due to some natural disaster.

Vader was even found responsible for the final liberation of Ryloth, and the death of more than several dozens of warlords from the Hutt clan.

One really fearless reporter even went to Mustafar and got access to Vader’s mission reports. But the real gold found there was an old videotape from around the creation of the Empire. Unfortunately, parts of the video were destroyed (after all Sidious couldn’t allow his apprentice to see Kenobi and his very-much-alive wife escaping the hellish planet), but the reporter still managed to acquire one spectacular Jedi fight (even if they couldn’t see what it had to do with Vader, anything connecting the Jedi was finally allowed once again).

All these articles were slow blows to the government and the idea that they protected.

The final blow came when the public required a meeting with Darth Vader.

At first, the idea seemed fine, after all, what else could possibly go wrong.

They had forgotten the request put in by Luke Skywalker after it came to light that Vader might live. The request for extra medical attention.

The man that they led into the studio had little visual connection to the imposing Dragon of the Empire. The only similarities were the built and the height.

His face was half-covered in a clear mask, showing on full display his scars.

And there were scars. Every visible inch of his skin was covered in scar tissue and was so very pale, that it was whiter than the stormtrooper’s new armor.

The interviewer, the screen directors and staff were starting for quite some time, brought back by the insistent cough of Luke Skywalker who was the one guarding the ex-Sith.

The live broadcast started with easy questions with not so easy answers:

“Are you really Lord Vader?”

“If that’s not your real name, what is it?”

“Why are you in the state of requiring life support suit?”

Then it came down to the hard ones:

“Why were you sentenced to execution in the first place if you haven’t actually done anything of the things they accused you of?”

Darth Vader’s real name was apparently Anakin Skywalker. He had been Jedi for more than ten years and a General in the Clone Wars for three.

He described his life as a Jedi, his inability to fit in because of his past. He explained the non-attachment rule of the Jedi, about the age at which people were accepted into the Order. Anakin told them that the Jedi couldn’t have strong relationships with their birth families and non-Jedi (a fact which surprised the Jedi in the room as much as it surprised the staff). He told them about their decision that a nine years old was too old to become a Jedi (the statement was met with denial and outrage).

He explained that during his years as a Jedi, the Order was mistrustful of him and because of it he grew closer to his friend in the Senate - the Chancellor.

Anakin started talking about the Clone Wars, about the horrors, the atrocities. He told them about the planets ruined because of the inability of the galaxy to listen.

The ex-Sith told them about the clones, his men, who were bred to die and never even complained about it. He told them stories about heroism far beyond the capability of anyone else. He told them about their lack of rights. He told the galaxy how his men fought for the Republic, killed for the Republic, sacrificed their lives for the Republic and the same Republic never gave them citizenship but treated them as objects, possessions.

Almost every member of the crew was moved by his words.

Anakin continued telling them that even if many tried to stop it, the war continued. He told them about how he fell in love, right at the beginning of the war. How he and his angel agreed that they could not live without one another. He told them about the little secret wedding on a Mid-Rim world.

If there had been someone who hadn't been crying, now they were.

Anakin was breathing hard, silent tears running down his cheeks.

He explained the strain the war put on people, who then put the blame on the Jedi. He told them how The Senate ordered the Order around, how they were forced to follow their orders so the Jedi could keep the little favor of the public.

He told them about the propaganda, about the campaigns, about the millions of people dying because there was no more food. About the greedy corporations and clans that spend all their money on more droids and clones, feeding the war machine more and more.

They had called him The Hero With No Fear. He and his Jedi Master became The Team - The Hero and The Negotiator. Unbeatable.

But ironically they were. They were beaten more than once. He had been constantly afraid -for his men, for his wife, for his student, for his brother.

A sob cut off his speech allowing, letting the silence settle.

Finally, they had the courage to ask him how old he had been during the war.

The man, the war veteran left with almost nothing to show for his accomplishments, answered “I was 19 when they sent me on the front. I was 20 when I became a General. My padawan, my apprentice was 14 when they sent her on the front. My men were 10 years old. For those of you, who had read about the war from your pads or in school, let me tell you how old was the youngest Commander- 11. There were teens on the front fighting, getting shot, being tortured for information, and nobody then, found it strange and unnatural,” the man was stopped by a hard pat on his shoulder. Luke Skywalker was looking forward, not seeing anything with a glassy look over his eyes.

The silence was like a heavy blanket over the people. There was horror, anger and sadness, oh so much sadness, in the air, drowning the inhabitants.

Anakin started talking once again. He told the galaxy about Count Yan Dooku of Sereno, once a Jedi Master and a Sith Apprentice, Master of Makashi. He told them about Asajj Ventress, once Jedi Padawan and a Sith Apprentice. He told them about the terror bringing Jedi Killer General Grievous. He told the galaxy their stories, their tragedies. He told them about their deaths.

Anakin was breathing hard, mind somewhere else. He took one much-needed pause and spoke about the rise of the Empire.

He told them about his wife's pregnancy, he told them about his mother’s death. He told them about the sleepless night and the pressure of both sides - the Senate and the Jedi.

The Dark Lord told them about Sidious, about the Grand puppeteer, the master manipulator, the Sith Master behind the war.

Ignoring the viewers' shock, which resonated through the Force, he told them about Order 66, about the Jedi Purge and his own involvement. He told them about the round of applause, Palpatine received when he took control over the galaxy as a whole.

Anakin took a deep breath and told them about Mustafar “I was sent there to kill the Separatist Council. On my way back I met my wife, my angel. She begged me to come with her, to help her raise our baby together, to be happy. She only wanted from me, to come back to her.”

There was something that was utterly broken in Anakin’s gaze, “I didn’t accept, instead I called her a liar and... I tried to kill her.” His voice started trembling from emotions too intense to be understood. “My Jedi Master, Obi-Wan engaged me in a duel to keep me away from her. To keep the galaxy safe from me. We fought as we have never fought before, and in the end, he won - he cut off my three remaining limbs and left me to burn on the shore.”

The broken man ignored the sharp intakes of breaths, the gasps and the sinking feeling of horror that was filling the room.

After a tense pause, Anakin continued “I was found by the Emperor who saved my life and put me in that torture device he called life-support. When I woke, the first thing I did was ask for Padmè, only to be answered that I had killed her.” His voice became more and more emotionless as he kept talking, “Later I found out I had had a psychotic break caused by the stress and lack of sleep. In my weak state, Sidious had managed to influence me even more than before. You asked me why I allowed them to accuse me of crimes I haven’t committed? Because even if I had been manipulated, influenced and lied to, I am still the person who took those choices. I am the horrible human being that helped a man commit a genocide, helped a man create a dictatorship and I am a man who deserves nothing else than the same sentence I sent so many others to.”

The silence that followed was heavy, pregnant and absolutely no one had an idea how to break it.

Finally, a movement caught their attention, and the staff all turned their heads to follow the path of the war veteran and the Jedi Knight out of the room.

Right before they made their exit, Anakin Skywalker turned and said “I did the good things in her name. In the name of Padmè Amidala Skywalker, who supported democracy until her dying breath. I did it in the name of Shmi Skywalker who let her son be taken away, while she was left in slavery. I did it for my son and daughter who could have grown in a better galaxy if it weren’t for me. I did it for the bright-eyed free boy who wanted to free all the slaves.” He took one last calming breath, “I did it because the galaxy needs more people ready to help each other.”

A quiet laugh broke through the grave silence, and for the first time today, the Jedi Knight spoke, “Come on, Father. You promised to show me that restaurant.”

The father and son left, leaving the reporter and his crew gaping like fish.

Finally, someone managed to say, “We can't edit any of this. This was live.”

Nobody answered, letting the silence fill the room once again.

...Or an idea, continuing my Sidious is Sympathetic! Fic. There was more but it got deleted... again. I think I went a bit overboard so, sorry.

In addition, I started series connected to this AU on ao3. If you want, you can check it out here.

#star wars au #starwars #star wars #darth sidious #darth vader #luke skywalker #anakin skywalker #sw crack #crack #sympathizing!sidious

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sasskarian · 4 years

Text

Fanfic Masterpost ... sort of

In honor of Fanfic Appreciation, I put together a list of my fics for anyone who’d like to look

Under the cut, because length

Dragon Age:

After the Glitter Fades (Glitterverse): Hawke x Fenris, modern AU. (Long fic, WIP) Hawke and Fenris are movie stars in a torrid love affair. Fenris has a mysterious past. Also Cassandra is investigating a murder mystery? Varric, as ever, is a delight. (*this is borrowed from @nug-juggler‘s excellent and shorter summary!)

Memorable quote: Fenris observed candidly was something sacred. For a moment, Hawke fiercely wished she were an artist. The scene in front of her was too… every word she could think of— beautiful, elegant, breathtaking— was trite, a pale description of perfection.

In the Heart of the Woods: Lavellan x Fairbanks rarepair. (WIP) Inquisitor Lavellan’s heart is broken by a certain Commander, Fairbanks has an appreciation for her, and a love story blooms like elfroot in the Emerald Graves.

Memorable quote: This kiss, she thinks, two mouths moving in perfect unison, is a spell of its own. Not quite love, not yet, but close enough she can pretend it is. Hope wells up, a solid thrum beating in counterpoint to her heart, and for one perfect moment, the world just bows down and… stands still. All that exists, all that ever has existed or ever will exist is wrapped up right here, right now, in Fairbanks’ lips on hers. Motes of dust turn golden in the sunbeams splashing through the roof, and a touch— his thumb, her cheek— says a million more words than words ever could.

Yesterdays: Surana x Zevran, mild Surana x Alistair pining. Post Origins, complete. A Warden’s sacrifice means something only as long as someone remembers it. A king looks back, balancing regrets with happiness.

Memorable quote: With a half-sob, he realizes he’s forgotten the sound of her voice. Oh, he remembers how it made him feel, all those years ago, all the glorious, shining moments where happiness dwells still. But what she truly sounded like, what sounds she made as she buried herself in books, the snap of her magic, the low buzz of her and Zevran whispering in their tent, all of that is gone. He knows it happened, but the memory is lit dimly in his mind, a torch burned too low to be flame but not low enough for embers yet.

If You Ever Did Believe (for my sake): Lavellan x Cullen. (On temporary hiatus) A wary Commander. A lost Dalish mage. Two hearts beating alone and exhausted on a battlefield, their only rest coming from each other.

Memorable quote: “Does your Maker hate us so much?” Isera asked bitterly, and for a moment, Cullen felt as though years had rippled, bringing his past self— still clanking through the halls of Kinloch Hold in Templar plate— and his current together. He’d asked Ser Greagoir the same question once, after a Harrowing went wrong and the body of a former apprentice lay at their feet. So much potential wasted, so much fear in the mages’ eyes after that. For once, Greagoir had shown a hint of emotion, clapping Cullen’s shoulder briefly before walking away, but hadn’t answered.

Voiceverse: Lavellan x Solas/Dread Wolf. (WIP) Building off of the great works of @khirsahle and @athreehundredthirtythree. All mages are born with a soulmate--a voice they hear in the darkness of the Fade all their lives. The lucky ones find their soulmates and forge a bond strong enough to threaten the very foundations of the Chantry. At least, that's what they claim. So what happens when a Dalish mage hears the voice of their most reviled and feared god shaping her dreams?

Memorable quote: Accompanying the thundering voice, great fissures ruptured around her hiding spot, green light streaking upward as they gathered into a roiling cloud. A wave of raw sound— howls, cries, pleas— rolled over her, forcing her to her knees. Iveani clapped her hands over her ears, losing her own scream among the agony thundering through the Fade. All caution, all her hard-won lessons about walking the Fade, vanished into the back of her mind under the need to simply ride out the explosion and survive.

Mass Effect:

Home is Where You Are: Ryder x Jaal (WIP). Ryder didn’t cross two galaxies and 600 years in search of love. But damn if she didn’t find it anyway.

Memorable quote: “I should take a shower,” he mumbled, as the same time as Sara said, “Would you like to stay?” Both of them broke off, staring at the other, and she laughed nervously. That feeling was back, the one from the tech lab, fragility and strength and affection turned fierce and bright tumbling over and over one other.

A Song of Sea and Stars: Garrus x Shepard x Thane (WIP). Our favorite turian badboy sees right through the mask the galaxy’s most famous Commander projects. Neither of them expected to fall in love on a host of impossible missions. And both are taken by surprise by a pious Drell who steals both their hearts.

Memorable quote: (He opens his eyes, shocked how it feels to look into her face, intimate and hungry. He hazily notices that up close, her eyes are thulium-gray. There's a hot, tight knot in his chest and she's pressed so close, he thinks he could count each faint freckle on her face.) (They look like tiny stars.) (…there are twenty-eight on her right cheek. Thirty on her left. And fourteen, right across the bridge of her nose.) (Those are his favorite. They remind him of his own markings.)

the sound of shattering glass: Generic Shepard, post-Tuchanka, pre-Citadel II. The Shroud explodes, taking a beloved friend with it. Shepard only has herself to blame.

Memorable quote: “Damn Reapers,” he said, striving for nonchalance. “Always throwing us around.” “Banged us up pretty good,” she agreed, and he knew she wasn’t talking about their bumps and bruises. “So what do we do about them?” “Get back on our feet. Keep fighting.” Garrus hummed as she shifted closer, pressed her forehead against his neck. “Maybe find a way to use some really big canons I spend half my time adjusting.”

Star Wars:

He Might Like That: Mandalorian x Cara Dune pining. So they argue. So they took down Gideon, and have a magic green frog baby older than both of them. That doesn’t make them a thing. Does it?

Memorable quote: He tunes back into the not-so-friendly argument in time to hear Greef splutter. “You trash talked while holding hands! If that’s not flirting, I’m a kowakian monkey lizard.” “It was arm wrestling, not holding hands,” Din points out mildly.

Star by Star: Post TRoS. Ben x Rey pining, Finn x Rey x Poe. Can three hopeless idiots in love fill a wound as deep as the death of a dyad? Maybe not, but they’re out to try anyway.

Memorable quote: “You know,” Poe whispers, a glint of mischief in his eyes, “if we ever did tell him we loved him, he’d probably sleep right through it.” Rey touches her fingers to his lips, tracing the shape of his questioning smile. It’s an invitation to play, that smile. A careful offer of love, of comfort. And though she’s not sure if he can really understand when even she doesn’t, she’s finally ready to try a little.

Counting The Days (Since Exegol): Finn x Rey x Poe, Ben x Rey. Its been 42 days since Palpatine’s death. 42 long days since she felt the surge of light in Ben Solo. And in her dreams, something whispers on the edge of the Force. But she’s shut it down too tightly to hear it.

Memorable quote: True to form, Poe can’t resist the urge to kiss away Finn’s troubles whenever possible, and Rey looks away to give them a moment. Some love stories work out, yes, and she loves Finn and Poe more than almost anything else. But that doesn’t stop the way bitterness floods her mouth as the memory of Ben surfaces, and it isn’t until Poe gently squeezes her knee (and she throttles back the near-instinctive urge to break his fingers from a lifetime of fending off handsy scavengers on Jakku) that she comes back to the moment. His brow furrows and she reaches for him, smoothing out the lines of his frown with her thumb. “I’m okay,” she says, answering his unspoken question. It’s mostly a lie, but she has to say it. Most days, she’s okay enough.

A Language Made for Lovers: SWTOR (NSFW). Torian Cadera x Bounty Hunter, gender neutral. Reflections on love and marriage under the glow of hyperspace.

Memorable quote: He murmurs in your ear, words that should sound harsh in that still-new tongue scalding your mouth, molding you from aruetii to mandalorian. But the love in his voice softens them, steeps them in warmth and adoration. Still the language of a hunter, of those brave souls willing to be reforged, but with a gentle side, a language reserved for lovers. Words like cyare and riduur, words that mean I love you and forever and home.

Malicious Compliance: SWTOR (NSFW). Malavai Quinn x Sith Warrior, gender neutral. Far away, in an apartment no one knows about, a Sith Lord plays dire games of control... and trust.

Memorable quote: It takes a man with the courage of an entire fleet of Mandalorians to love a Sith, and oh, how he loves you. Like you hung the moons and the stars and all the spaces between. Like you are his other half, like loving you is his sole purpose in life, does Malavai Quinn love you. Your old masters spoke nothing of this, of this enraging hunger gnawing at your bones and curling into the hollows of your rib cage. ... Is it really even love if you don’t want to devour him just a little?

Misc:

Tumblr Prompts: Grab bag of every fandom and series listed above. Prompts filled originally here on tumblr.

Visual Files: Collections of art and commissions from talented friends and artists here on tumblr.

Every Beautiful Thing: Crimson Peak. Thomas x Edith, Edith x Alan. Edith learned, in the dark halls of Allerdale, not to take ghosts lightly. But still she waits, every year, for a chance to see Thomas again. Until the night their son tells her he can see him too.

Memorable quote: Snow heralds nothing but pain in Edith’s world: first her mother’s funeral, smothered in fat white flakes wet on her lashes like tears, then her father’s. Smaller ones, then, rain slowly freezing and scattering on the ground; the ones that night at Allerdale were the smallest yet, more ice pellet than snow. Jagged, hateful things scraping at her with a cold that burned through skin and encased bone.…God, how she has come to hate the snow.

Where I Can’t Follow: Co-authored by @suspendnodisbelief. show!Witcher, mild Geralt x Jaskier. (Temporary hiatus) Drawing from a variety of inspiration, including greek mythos. Geralt takes a blow meant for Jaskier, finally granted the death by battle he expects Witchers to end by. And Jaskier is not having it, at all. It’s his turn to save Geralt, even if he has to walk the entire bloody underworld to do it.

Memorable quote: “Geralt, get up. Come on, open your eyes. You’re going to upset Roach if you keep this up, and she’ll bite me. You know you aren’t allowed to be dead, because Yennefer didn’t give you permission, and neither did the Princess, and I’m pretty sure they both outrank you.”

#dragon age #Mass Effect #star wars #the mandalorian #the witcher #crimson peak #swtor #my fic #fanfic writer appreciation day

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signor-signor · 4 years

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Trending 27th - March 2020

How would you prioritize WOY’s proper conclusion if you were in charge of Disney?

Ah yes, a question that entices anyone who knows how a higher-up boss of bosses of bosses should treat the company’s IPs, including one that was professionally made by a cartoonist with over twenty years of experience. It just so happens that in the Disney College Program back in 2016, I took a class called Disney Corporate Analysis, giving me an idea of how the businesses within the company are intertwined.

Let’s start with how I would have prioritized WOY’s conclusion if the year was 2015, just one week before S2’s premiere.

Imagine, if you will, sitting in the office of that building with the Seven Dwarfs near the top, overlooking everything, and I mean everything, owned by the world-famous entertainment conglomerate that is the Walt Disney Company... movie studios, theme parks, merchandising, cruises, theatre, and television.

After you finish your time looking at Inside Out’s month-long performance and the status of Mission: Breakout, you check on Disney TV Animation - two of the latest shows (Penn Zero: Part-Time Hero and Star vs. the he Forces of Evil) are in full swing, Phineas and Ferb have gotten a satisfying conclusion like Fish Hooks did the year before, The 7D is having a decent run so far, Gravity Falls is in its second season where Grunkle Stan’s twin brother appears, Pickle and Peanut is in production, and the 1-minute Wander Over Yonder shorts have been airing on a daily basis, less than two weeks away from the second season premiere. You also learn that several months ago, Craig McCracken presented a pitch for his third and final season of WOY, wherein Wander and Sylvia take most of the folks back to their planets with the Star Nomad, Lord Hater’s origin story is revealed, Peepers is tempted by a darker side, and a threat worse than Dominator comes around to test Wander. You start taking a liking to this concept.

You get a hold of Gary Marsh, who has already approved of Milo Murphy’s Law and Future-Worm. You tell him, “Make sure Craig gets to finish WOY his way.” He responds, “What? I was just about to cancel it after two seasons because the viewers love GF and SvtFoE more. Also, many other viewers seem more interested in AT, Gumball, SU...” You say, “Are you out of your mind? We gave Fish Hooks three seasons and a good conclusion regardless of the popularity of P&F and other shows, and if Craig and the team has one more season lovingly planned out to close out WOY, I say we make it happen.” Gary says, “But, but the budget-” “Don’t worry about it. Remember when you wanted to give GF a third season even though Alex planned to end it his way after two seasons? Why not take the money you were going to give him and put it towards Wander’s third season?” “But-” “But nothing. Here at Disney, we make dreams come true. If we cancel WOY too soon, Craig and his fans will be displeased. I tell you what: put the show on another hiatus so we’ll have more time focusing on newer projects.” “...I guess we can make it work.” “Great! I’ll see you and Ben in the next meeting.”

Now, if I were in charge after WOY was canceled after two seasons, here’s how I’d set my priorities for DTVA:

2020: This year, we have S3 of DuckTales (which I’m pretty sure Francisco Angones loves more than WOY at this point), continuation of The Owl House, The Curse of Molly McGee and S2 of Amphibia in the works, and other shows that fare well on television even with Disney+ in full swing. Speaking of which, shows like Monsters at Work and The Proud Family: Louder and Prouder are slated for the streaming service, and I plan to put WOY on it by the end of the year. If it fares well, which it should, I’d invite Craig McCracken back to the company as soon as he finishes Kid Cosmic, assuming he already has a perfect ending in mind. Most importantly, I would have already dispensed with reruns of Phineas and Ferb, Gravity Falls, and Star vs. the Forces of Evil, because they can be found on D+ now.

2021: Aside from supporting TOH and TCoMM, Craig turns 50 that year, so what better way to celebrate that milestone than to remedy the wrong done back in 2015 by giving him the privilege of making one more season (or a TV movie) for WOY and make it a D+ exclusive so fans will finally find out what’s worse than Dominator and how Hater came to be. Regardless of how Kid Cosmic performs on Netflix, I’d be willing to take that chance. If Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon were able to pull it off with their own prematurely canceled shows, I don’t see why Disney can’t.

2022: I would assume TOH, TCoMM, and some other new shows continue to thrive. If DuckTales, Big City Greens, and Amphibia have had the chance to end right, great. 15 months after I give Craig the OK on S3 (or TV movie), the hard work from the supporters of SaveWOY will have finally paid off... Wander Over Yonder: The New Galaxy (either one season or TV movie) arrives on Disney+ in late fall/early winter. I’d make it happen because I’ve seen countless letters, a few of which had this image taped on the front...

There was even one letter from a current Disneyland cast member that made a good point. It stated that if it wasn’t for WOY’s positive impact on his life, he wouldn’t have gotten into the Disney College Program. I thought, “If I let Craig close out WOY his way, his fans will be ecstatic and some might have a better chance at getting to work for Disney and I’ll have more employees!” Remember, folks, it helps to have witty and perceptive remarks in your letters. Be sure they’re politely written, though.

If the reception of WOY’s real conclusion is warm and positive, which it will be, no doubt, I might feel extra generous and give some other more prematurely canceled shows one more go for better conclusions (Dave the Barbarian, The Buzz on Maggie, American Dragon: Jake Long, to name a few).

The main point is, I know all Wander fans have put up with the popularity of overrated shows and not knowing what the new main characters of S3 look like long enough. I also know there are a few folks (specifically the voice actors) who might not have long to live - June Squibb (Stella Starbella), for example, is 90, and I’m pretty sure she might need a back up voice actor if we wait any longer. If the hints brought up by @suspendersofdisbelief, @owner-of-wendys, and @crackmccraigen himself are any indication, the third and final season is supposed to be the best one yet, and I would have to be an asinine moron to deny them the chance to show the viewers what they had planned. Some others, including @atalkingmagpie, @benbalistreri, and possibly @skulptduggery, know what happens after S2, given their significant involvement in the show.

I know Craig and the team have been working on other projects for a while, but that shouldn’t hide the fact that they put their heart and soul into how WOY’s actual final season would play out, and by golly, I will not let it go unnoticed, especially not while COVID-19 is affecting the world.

Remember, I had a part in the reveal of the ship’s name, so more answers might come up when Craig sees fit.

The sooner we know more about S3, the better.

@disneyanimation

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jbk405 · 4 years

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The worst retcons in Star Wars

While I’m riding high on the finale to Star Wars: The Clone Wars (No I am not crying....I cried it all out last night) I have decided to compile a list of the worst retcons to the Star Wars franchise.

Why? I dunno, I’m a crotchety old nerd who likes to complain about decades-old stories. Do I need another reason?

In no particular order:

Making Emperor Palpatine a Sith

It’s been 21 years since The Phantom Menace came out, so for an entire generation of nerds he’s always been “Darth Sidious”, but we old-timers remember that for the 22 years before that there was no connection between the Emperor and the Sith. The term “Sith” itself was present from the earliest iterations of the first film and was used in some promotional materials and tie-ins and toys, but it was solely connected to Darth Vader as a Dark Lord of the Sith. The Expanded Universe built a specific philosophy and history around the Sith as a concept, not just as a catch-all term for darksider, and that history explicitly didn’t include the Emperor. There was even hate and schism between the Sith and some other Dark Side philosophies, and even those who didn’t use the Force at all. In The Truce at Bakura, an EU novel that began the day after Return of the Jedi, an Imperial governor initially dismisses the Rebels’ claims that the Emperor is dead as propaganda until they say that Vader is the one who killed him. That he believes, and even says how foolish it was for the Emperor to have trusted a Sith.

Even without going into what Dark Side philosophy the Emperor did follow, having Vader as a Sith and the Emperor not helped flesh out the universe by showing that even amongst the totalitarian despots there were different factions. Just like Hitler and Mussolini each had their own brands of Fascism, they can work together while still being distinct.

Introducing the concept of the Chosen One

People often forget that Darth Vader wasn’t the main antagonist of the original Star Wars film, Grand Moff Tarkin was. Vader filled the role described as “The Dragon”, the enforcer and primary legman, and the threat they had to bypass so that they could destroy the real threat. He was a lackey. A cool lackey absolutely, who grew into the primary antagonist in The Empire Strikes Back, but still a lackey. And despite how cool and badass he is (And don’t get me wrong, he is a fantastic character and one of the best villains in history) there’s nothing “special” about him within the context of the Jedi and Force users in general. He does not have any significant advantage over Obi-Wan Kenobi in their duel and is obviously completely unprepared for Kenobi to become One with the Force at his loss (And it is debatable if he even “won” at all given Kenobi’s deliberate self-sacrifice). When he and Luke duel in ESB he definitely has the upper hand throughout their entire fight, but only as somebody with more experience and training, not because he is Magically Superior. By the time of ROTJ Luke has even surpassed him despite only three years of experience.

In the Original Trilogy Vader is portrayed as a dangerous, powerful, and skilled opponent, but never as somebody POWERFUL. Never as somebody whose strength or control over the Force is legendary, who is heralded in prophecy. Yoda performs feats with the Force that Vader never comes close to equaling.

To go back and say that actually his affinity the Force is the greatest that the Jedi have ever seen, even greater than Yoda himself (BTW, I’m including the midi-chlorians under this header) makes no sense. To say that he was the Emperor’s #2, helping run the entire Empire right from the moment of its founding, contradicts the original film itself where he was lower on the chain of command.

Darth Vader, and by proxy Anakin Skywalker, was a good enough character without trying to shill his background all to hell.

The impending threat of the Yuuzhan Vong

I’ll be upfront, I never liked the stories with the Yuuzhan Vong in and of themselves (When they started coming in is right about when I stopped reading new EU material). The New Jedi Order just didn’t grab my attention. But what really riled me up was the way the EU tried to backfill the Vong into the franchise history by saying that the entire rise of the Galactic Empire was to prepare for their arrival. That Palpatine knew they were coming, and since the Republic would have been incapable of standing against them he took over so that the galaxy could present a strong, unified front against them.

This is something I actually see a lot of in fiction, and it pisses me off each time: The evil despot actually had noble goals because they knew of an even greater threat and they needed to take control in order to deal with it, because a dictatorship gets things done. You even see this in real life when people try to say that for all Hitler’s faults you have to respect that he made Germany a powerhouse that was this close to conquering the world, and that Mussolini made the trains run on time. Not only are these examples patently false (Nazi Germany never was “this” close to winning the war, and the trains never did run on time in Italy), but they come with the tacit endorsement that maybe their evilness would be worth it for the benefits.

The Galactic Empire explicitly wasn’t a Super Efficient Society. We saw time and again how wasteful the Empire was with its resources as it squandered them on inefficient superweapon after superweapon, how it laid waste to planet after planet for the purposes of propaganda. The Empire was so inefficient that it was able to be toppled by a ragtag band of rebels who had nowhere near the resources, population, wealth, or control it had. If the Empire couldn’t even defeat the Rebellion, just how was it supposed to stand against the Vong? And if the explanation is that the Emperor had been seduced by his own ambition and forgotten his original “noble” goals, why would other characters who knew the truth have gone along with his wanton oppression even after his death?

Trying to give the Empire a “reason” for existing was self-contradictory and borderline offensive.

Having the Clones fight for the Republic

I’m very much in two minds over this one, because as bad as the original retcon was other creators have managed to turn it into genius (Looking at you Clone Wars and The Clone Wars). But I’m nothing if not petty, so...

The Clone Wars were one of the eras that had not been discussed in great detail in the EU before the Prequels came out, instead only being vaguely alluded to. George Lucas was already talking about making more movies and they didn’t want to contradict what was to come. But even with only those vague allusions, it was established that the Clones were the bad guys. The Clonemasters were regarded monsters who unleashed hordes upon the Republic like a swarm of locusts or a plague. The Clones themselves were often unstable, and regarded by the populace as soulless duplicates overwhelming the galaxy. The clones were held in such fear by the populace that Mara Jade -- an Old Empire loyalist (Sort-of) -- decided to switch from passively assisting the New Republic because her boss told her to to actively assisting them at the thought of the Empire starting the Clone Wars again.

Even the name of the conflict implies that the Clones were the enemy: People don’t name a war after their own soldiers. The Droid War, Separatist Secession, Clone & Droid Conflict, Jedi Aggression, etc. all would have made more sense for the war as depicted.

Getting into philosophy, the idea of cloning soldiers expressly for war is morally abhorrent. It’s mass slavery. And I am far from the first person to point this out, but that aspect is not even mentioned in the Prequel films. The Jedi accepting this clone army is repugnant, and some people have used this to show that the Jedi Order was already corrupt at the time of the rise of the Empire, but this wasn’t explored at all in the films that introduced the clones as the Grand Army of the Republic.

Getting into just simple common sense...HOW FUCKING DENSE DO YOU HAVE TO BE TO JUST ACCEPT A MYSTERIOUS ARMY THAT APPEARED OUT OF NOWHERE?!?!

That makes no sense. It never made sense. The idea that nobody in the Republic, from the government to the military to the populace at large, questioned the very existence of the clone army....it was too much. The exploration of just how ridiculous this is made for great fodder in The Clone Wars, but only because they had to paper over the GIANT GAPING CHASMS that the concept created.

Making the Jedi a cult

In the old EU, the Jedi of the Old Republic were described as allowed to have families, even being encouraged to do so. They were allowed to pursue lives and interests and careers outside of the order itself, and didn’t need to forsake who they used to be. The Jedi Council didn’t have legal authority over the lives of its members, and didn’t try to mandate personal lifestyle.

People started training in their teens when they were old enough to at least understand the concept, and if they were taken as children it was in unusual extraneous circumstances.

While there were Jedi customs, and Jedi Codes, and they had rules and regulations to follow, but they addressed how they should act as Jedi. They didn’t care what kind of clothing you wore.

Starting with The Phantom Menace, Jedi were taken at such young ages to begin their training that they could not give any consent to their enlistment, nor were they offered any alternatives when they had grown up and may be able to decide for themselves. They are indoctrinated into a singular Jedi philosophy, not allowed to even debate the dogma of the Council without ostracism, let alone actually defy it. The Jedi Council unilaterally makes decisions for the entire Order galaxy-wide without any apparent method for dissent or appeal, or any devolution of authority.

Taking (Abducting) children as infants, not allowing them any contact with their families, mandating an isolated ascetic existence...the Jedi Order became a cult.

That’s a cult, plain and simple.

These changes didn’t make the Jedi “complex”, didn’t make the conflict “shades of grey”, they’re just creepy and nonsensical.

#Star Wars #Retroactive Continuity #Retcons #Original Trilogy #Expanded Universe #Prequel Trilogy #Clone Wars #The Clone Wars #Sith #Jedi #Jedi Order #Clone Army #Yuuzhan Vong #Cult

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aceofwhump · 4 years

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Babe thank you x30000 for recommending SG-1 to me!!!! I watched the first ep and am halfway through the second one and I am in a blissful state. Daniel is such a smol hurt puppy who needs to be cuddled... Do you have any favorite fics with Daniel in them??

You are so very welcome!!! I’m so glad you’re enjoying it!! And I couldn’t agree more about Daniel lol. He’s my favorite, my first whumpee, and one of the reasons I got my degree in history. Daniel means the world to me. I love him.

Do I have fic recs? YOU BET YOUR SWEET BIPPY I DO!!!! This got really long so if you don’t mind I’m just gonna post the links. Trust me. They’re all great :D

Don’t Mess With Danny

Bullies and Women Oh the Life of a Geek

Surrogate Father

The Barista (this one is not whumpy but read it anyway okay. it’s the best)

Sweet Dreams and Flying Machines

Don’t Go Away

A Change of Orders

HurtComfort

Counting to Ten

Tumbling Down

The Bridge

Need

Could it be Forever

Drifting on the Wind as Light as a Feather

Fire in the Belly

Trees Are Crying Leaves Into The Darkness

No Evil

The Stuff of Legends

Lost In Translation

The Perfect Recipe

Celebrate Me Home

No Man Left Behind

Beloved

What Dreams May Come

Cocidian

Solitudes Redux

Up Canada Creek Without a Paddle

The Thorn Beast

ALSO I am going to recommend some of the Stargate novels that are super whumpy and SO GOOD:

STARGATE SG-1: Hall of the Two Truths By Susannah Parker Sinard

Summary:

After suffering a brutal attack off-world, each member of SG-1 finds themselves stranded alone in the Ancient Egyptian afterlife — and on a journey through the Book of the Dead.

With reality shifting around them, Colonel O’Neill, Dr. Daniel Jackson, Major Carter and Teal’c must each navigate a treacherous path toward final judgment in the Hall of the Two Truths. On the way, they will be tested to their mental and physical limits by their past mistakes, their greatest fears and their deepest desires…

In this classic SG-1 adventure, the team must dig deep to survive. Their only hope of escape lies in finding each other, but in this place where nothing and no one is what it seems, who do they trust and what do they dare to believe?

STARGATE SG-1: Four Dragons By Diana Dru Botsford

Summary:

It was meant to be a soft mission, something to ease Doctor Daniel Jackson back into things after his time among the Ancients — after all, what could possibly go wrong on a simple survey of ancient Chinese ruins? As it turns out, a whole lot.

After accidentally activating a Goa’uld transport ring, Daniel finds himself the prisoner of Lord Yu, the capricious Goa’uld System Lord. Meanwhile, SG1’s efforts to rescue their friend are hampered by a representative of the Chinese government with an agenda of his own to follow — and a deep secret to hide.

But Colonel Jack O’Neill is in no mood for delay. He’ll go to any lengths to get Daniel back — even if it means ignoring protocol and taking matters into his own hands.

STARGATE SG-1: The Barque of Heaven By Suzanne Wood

Summary:

Millennia ago, at the height of his power, the System Lord Ra decreed that any Goa’uld wishing to serve him must endure a great trial. Victory meant power and prestige, defeat brought banishment and death.

On a routine expedition to an abandoned Goa’uld world, SG-1 inadvertently initiate Ra’s ancient trial – and once begun, the trial cannot be halted. Relying on Dr. Daniel Jackson’s vast wealth of knowledge, Colonel O’Neill must lead his team from planet to planet, completing each task in the allotted time. There is no rest, no respite. To stop means being trapped forever in the farthest reaches of the galaxy, and to fail means death.

Victory is their only option in this terrible test of endurance – an ordeal that will try their will, their ingenuity, and above all their bonds of friendship…

STARGATE SG-1: Siren Song By Holly Scott & Jaimie Duncan

Summary:

Bounty-hunter Aris Boch once more has his sights on SG-1. But this time Boch isn’t interested in trading them for cash. He needs the unique talents of Dr. Daniel Jackson – and he’ll do anything to get them.

Colonel Jack O’Neill and his team are taken to Boch’s ravaged home-world and handed over to the insane Goa’uld, Sebek. Obsessed with opening a mysterious subterranean vault, Sebek demands that Jackson translate the arcane writing on the doors. When Jackson refuses, the Goa’uld resorts to devastating measures to ensure his cooperation.

With the vault exerting an increasingly malign influence, Sebek compels Jackson and O’Neill toward a horror that threatens both their sanity and their lives. Meanwhile, Carter and Teal’c struggle to persuade the starving people of Aris Boch’s world to risk everything they have to save SG-1 – and free their desolate world of the Goa’uld forever.

STARGATE SG-1: Hostile Ground By Sally Malcolm & Laura Harper

Excerpt:

“Teal’c, how far?”

The colonel’s words were clipped, each one bitten off like a curse as he knelt next to Daniel in the mud. Sam couldn’t see what he was doing, didn’t dare take her eyes off the rain-sodden tree line, but she could smell the antiseptic and heard Daniel hiss in a sharp breath.

“We are now less than a kilometer from the Stargate,” Teal’c said. He crouched next to her, staff weapon raised and his arm brushing against hers, making the most of the scant cover they shared – a fallen tree, rotting in the incessant rain. It wouldn’t do much against a staff blast but it was better than nothing. She glanced up at the heavy sky, the clouds hiding a multitude of dangers. If those gliders came back…

Breathing hard, breathing through pain, Daniel said, “I’m okay. I can make it.”

“Damn right you can.” The colonel’s growl made it an order as he ripped open another field dressing. Sam heard Daniel’s shout of pain as the colonel pressed the bandage onto the wound. She didn’t know how badly he was injured, but it had to be serious for the colonel to risk stopping their breakneck flight to the Stargate.

Movement – a fleeting shadow back in the tree line. She wiped rain from her face and eyes, squinting through the curtain of water that slanted across the open ground between SG-1 and the edge of the forest. Yes, there it was again, a glint of gold amid the trees. “Sir,” she said, finger itchy on the trigger, “you might want to hurry that up.”

“What do you think I’m doing, Carter?”

She ignored his sharp tone. “Teal’c, do you see them? Two-o’clock.”

“I do.” He shifted his position, taking aim.

“Sir?” she risked a glance over her shoulder. Daniel was ashen, his jacket torn and dark with blood where the staff blast had hit, just above the hip and below his tac vest. She glimpsed a white compression bandage through the torn fabric. He grimaced as he moved, trying to stand.

The colonel put a restraining hand on his shoulder and looked over at Sam. She knew that look, the flat uncompromising expression that shut everything down. It meant they were in trouble. “Daniel and I are gonna head for the gate,” he said, starting to pack away the med-kit with quick, efficient movements. “You and Teal’c hold them here as long as you can, then come after us.” He stuffed his gear back into his vest and tugged the bill of his cap lower. “Don’t leave it too long, Major.”

She understood. If they were too slow getting back to the gate, there was a real danger they’d be outflanked. “Yes sir. Good luck.”

His only reply was a curt nod before he turned to Daniel. “Ready?”

“Sure,” Daniel said, teeth gritted. “How hard can it be?”

“Attaboy,” the colonel said as he helped Daniel to his feet. “We might have to run.”

Daniel nodded, turning from ashen to milky, but determined as ever. “Let’s go.”

Sam looked away, back to the enemy hiding in the trees, but not before she’d seen the bloom of scarlet on Daniel’s dressing. She swallowed a hard knot of anxiety. It would be difficult enough to make it to the gate carrying a wound like that, let alone with a platoon of Jaffa on their heels.

“The enemy is moving,” Teal’c murmured as several Jaffa emerged from the trees, keeping low as they scanned the scrubby clearing. Sam ducked behind their cover, not wanting to give away their position. “Go now, O’Neill,” Teal’c said softly. “We will cover your retreat and hold this position as long as possible.”

“Counting on it,” the colonel said.

With Daniel’s arm looped over his shoulder, he headed out into the sparse woodland that ran all the way back to the Stargate. Sam winced at their slow, awkward pace. At that rate, they’d never reach the gate before the Jaffa.

A squall of rain blew into her face and she had to turn away, squeezing her eyes shut. When she looked back, Daniel and the colonel were gone, the rain at least helping to hide them from the advancing Jaffa, even if it did make the muddy ground slick and treacherous under foot. Wiping her face on her sleeve, she squirmed around and shivered as a trickle of rain slid down her neck and under her collar. “Daniel’s moving pretty slow,” she whispered, taking a bead on one of the Jaffa and switching her weapon to single shot. “Do you think they’ll make it in time?” Even through the rain, she knew she’d hit her target. But not yet, let them come out a little further from the cover of the trees.

“It is possible,” Teal’c said, “that one of us will need to precede them to the Stargate and hold it against the Jaffa.”

“Yeah,” Sam said, a beat of fear kicking in her chest, “that’s what I figured.”

#theladyoffangorn #whump #stargate sg1 #daniel jackson #mod replies #mod post #mods fic recs #fanfics #fic recs #daniel jackson whump #the king of whump #books #recs

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swtorpadawan · 4 years

Text

Theron Shan in Absolute Trust

Author's Notes: FYI - This is an older piece written a couple of years ago. The Alliance Commander depicted in the following story is decidedly NOT my OC, Corellan Halcyon, but another JK Outlander. It takes place shortly after Knights of the Eternal Throne.

This is all just between us, right? Strictly our little secret? Good. Because you know I'd hate to have to kill you.

So, go ahead and pull up a chair. I'll buy you a Corellian Brew, and then I'll tell you a story.

People ask me, 'Why stay with the Eternal Alliance?' Oh, sure, back when the Eternal Empire was off subjugating the galaxy, it was easy to see why so many people would jump at the chance to join an organization dedicated to taking it down, especially when most of the really big players had rolled over to it. But why stay afterwards? Now that the war is over, hasn't the Alliance fulfilled its purpose? Shouldn't we all just go back to being Republic, or Empire, or Zakuulan, or whatever?

Well, for me, the answer is simple: Our Commander is the reason I stayed. He's the reason I've believed in the Alliance for as long as I have.

I have a great story to illustrate my point, but first it needs some background on my friend and leader.

Nowadays, people just call him the Commander. So much so that most seem to have forgotten his actual name.

He used to be called 'the Outlander' by the masses, a name Arcann gave him as an insult but that he turned into a title of respect among friends and enemies alike.

Before that? Oh, he had a bunch of other titles. Master Jedi. Hero of Tython. Battlemaster of the Jedi Order. The Conqueror of the Sith Emperor. He held the honorary rank of General in the Galactic Republic. I think he was also a Paladin of House Organa of Alderaan - you know, If you're into that sort of thing. The Gree call him the 'Black Bisector of Coruscant'. (Yeah, I don't know either.) Oh, and a few of our recent Zakuulan recruits quietly call him the 'Dragon of Zakuul' when they think no one can overhear them. There's a story there for another time. The Commander's been a bunch of things over the course of a relatively short life. He's been a Jedi, a soldier, a hero, a Champion of the free galaxy, a rebel, a savior and now finally a peacemaker.

Yeah, it's true – his reputation has always been as a warrior first. And probably the greatest in the galaxy. That's one reason why he's inspired so many martial types – Jedi, Sith, Republic and Imperial Commandos, Mandalorians, heck, even gangsters – to his side. And then keep them there. He wins a lot. I admit, I really do regret not being present for his showdowns with Arcann or Vaylin or Valkorian. What can I say? He needed me someplace else in each case. I do remember his fight against Revan a few years ago, though. A bunch of us fought by his side. Myself, Lana Beniko, Satele Shan - the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, Lord Scourge - the Sith Lord who used to be the Emperor's Wrath, Darth Marr - who was basically running the Sith Empire at that point, Shae Vizla - who went on to become Mandalore, Jakarro - this Wookie bounty hunter we had buddied up with – all serious customers. Even with all of us behind him, the Commander – who was still just a Jedi Master at the time - stood out. Watching him in that fight was like nothing else I've seen. There's no way we could have taken down Revan without him. And if anything, he's only become more powerful since then. It's kinda scary when you think about it.

What's that? Who am I? Oh, sorry. Theron Shan, at your service. Former agent of the Galactic Republic's Strategic Information Service (that's "spy" to those of you not in the know), sometime hero and adventurer, now a senior adviser to the Commander of the Eternal Alliance.

But getting back to the Commander - This man has taken blows that would have crushed anyone else. Falling to the dark side, then bouncing back. Losing those years of his life when he was imprisoned in carbonite, knowing most of his friends were missing and maybe even dead, seeing almost everything he'd fought for destroyed in his absence. Then being hounded by the Eternal Empire with just a handful of allies when he finally got free. Then later watching his nascent Alliance being abandoned by the Senate of the very Galactic Republic he had once championed. Watching friends and allies die in the final battles to take down the Eternal Empire, and finally overcoming Valkorion in a battle for his own mind.

I've seen him win so many battles and lose so much along the way, I honestly don't know how he keeps going. But he does. And deep down, I knew he always would.

And I think everyone else in the Alliance pretty much thought the same.

What's that? Am I related to… Oh, kriff, really? Alright, yes, fine. I am the illegitimate son of Master Satele Shan, former Grand Master of the Jedi Order. (Who incidentally was the Commander's boss at the time we met.) Yes, I am a descendant of Bastila Shan, hero of the Jedi Civil War centuries ago. And if the name Revan means anything to you, yeah, I can claim him as an ancestor, too. And heck, why shouldn't we bring up the fact that my father is Jace Malcolm, the Supreme Commander of the Republic military? And that I didn't even meet either of my parents until I was almost thirty? And that my mother apparently went into hiding years ago after the Eternal Empire invaded, and that she didn't even bother to send me a message to tell me she was alright?

Not that I'm, you know, bitter or anything.

Anyway…

The Commander and I, though, we've been through a lot, since well before Zakuul invaded. Heck, we even met a couple of times before that Korriban operation went sideways and eventually led to us meeting Lana and squaring off with Revan. We kept that hush-hush, though. My old bosses at the SIS wouldn't have approved of what we were doing. It's possible my mother wouldn't have been okay with it either. Story for another time.

In all our time together, he never brought up the fact that Satele was my mother. Or that I was raised as a Jedi initiate as a kid before washing out because I didn't have 'the gift' of the Force. Don't tell anyone, particularly him, but I always… really appreciated that.

I don't want to sound like I'm bragging here, but I don't think I'd be totally out of line if I told you I'm probably the Commander's best friend at this point. Nothing touchy-feely, you understand. In my job, I don't place too much stock in terms like that, but it's likely true. There are only two people in the whole Alliance he's known for longer than he's known me, and both of those are members of his old crew, back when he was just a Jedi running around the galaxy with five companions in one small ship. They're both good people, don't get me wrong, but one is an AstroMech droid who talks in beeps and whistles and the other is a drill Sergeant with the personality of a Durasteel wall. So as far as confidantes go, yeah, I feel I'm at the top of his list when it's time to share memories over a beer.

Not that he does that a lot, being a former Jedi, but we have.

Of course, then there's Lana, who is a very special case.

Lana Beniko, the former Minister of Sith Intelligence. Brilliant. Ruthless. Beautiful. Deadly. We'd become partners of convenience years ago when were both on the run during the Revanite Crisis. We worked well together. I respected her. I even liked her. We were friends. Even good friends. But I never forgot that she was a Sith. She and I had a little incident back on Rishii when she let me get captured and tortured by the Order of Revan so she and the Commander could find their base by tracking me down.

I mean, that was a long time ago, so I'm mostly over it.

Mostly.

Anyway, so Lana was the one who freed the Commander from that carbonite prison in the Spire on Zakuul. She searched for him almost non-stop for five years, even after everyone else had given him up for dead. She risked everything to rescue him, convinced that he was the only one who could defeat the Eternal Empire. Since then, she's been totally dedicated to his cause, building the foundation of the Alliance up from nothing and rarely leaving his side, except when he needed her to. Heck, she even chose the location of our headquarters here on Odessen.

Eventually, she and the Commander even started sharing a bunk. So, you know, they're close. Special case, like I said.

(And just for the record, Lana's interest in the Commander as more than just an ally? Totally called it years ago. This was right after that thing on Ziost, when she didn't have the Commander and I killed for not turning a Vitiate-possessed Jedi Master over to her for an 'examination'. Believe me, she didn't hold off for my sake.)

If the Commander was the heart and soul of the Alliance, Lana was the mind. Her intelligence and ruthless determination helped forge a grassroots resistance movement into an organization rivaling the great powers of the galaxy. The Commander consults with her on every major decision.

(Me? I try to be the Alliance's conscience. Hey, don't look at me like that. Someone needed to do it.)

Some of the troops – the few who were with us way back on Yavin years ago – they still call the three of us the Triumvirate. Sounds like a gang of spice dealers of Nar Shadaa, I know. But just between us, I always kind of liked it. A Jedi, a Sith and an SIS Agent. Sounds like the opening of a bad joke.

Instead, we saved the galaxy. More than once.

But here's my story. So, a few months after the Commander took down Valkorian and claimed the Eternal Throne, Lana and I were vetting the application for a potential recruit. We'll call the guy Slade, though you can bet your last credit that it wasn't his real name.

He was ex-Sith Intelligence, one of their 'Watchers'. He had briefly worked for Lana years ago before the Eternal Empire had invaded.

Now I'm a spy by trade myself, but this guy was shifty even for my line of work. Lana was suspicious of him right from the start when he came to us. Said she remembered Slade as being too "old Empire", loyal only to the most powerful Sith within arm's reach. She also assessed that he changed loyalties too fast to be trusted with important assignments. She said he could be insufferably flattering to a superior, and equally arrogant to his subordinates. Lana concluded that it was incredibly suspicious that he was choosing to join us now, and not months before, when the rebellion was in full swing.

I tried playing devil's advocate for a while, but Slade's background check generated too many red flags, including the suspicious shifting of a large amount of credits to his accounts through the Hutt Cartel, but originating elsewhere. We couldn't trace the origin, but when he waffled on his explanations for where the money came from, we both agreed it was best to give him the boot.

Lana and I were escorting Slade to the shuttles with a couple of Alliance troopers – one ex-Republic, the other former Imperial. That's how we try to do it. No restraints; we were still treating him with kid gloves at this point. We were walking past the war room – basically the command center of the whole base – when Slade spots the Commander. He was talking to Hylo Visz, our former celebrity smuggler turned Head of Underworld Logistics for the Alliance. They were probably going on about trade routes, but Hylo is one the few people in the galaxy who can honestly relate with the Commander's experience of having spent a few years frozen in carbonite, only to wake up to a galaxy that looked very different from how they left it. So I guess they did have that much in common, anyway.

Arcann was by his side, too. Yes, it was that Arcann. Valkorian's son, who had seized the Eternal Throne and invaded the rest of the galaxy. The one who had imprisoned the Commander in carbonite for five years, then hunted him and his allies down for months. The one most of us had joined the Alliance to stop in the first place. But when the time came, the Commander barely hesitated to trust that Senya, Arcann's mother, was right that there was good in him. How crazy is that? But then he joined us after being redeemed, helping us stop both Vaylin and Valkorian. Arcann was now one of the Commander's most powerful supporters.

In a private moment, Arcann had once asked the Commander how he had been able to forgive him for everything Arcann had done, both to the Commander and to the rest of the galaxy. The Commander just told him that if he hadn't given Arcann that chance, everything the Commander's life had stood for would have meant nothing.

Yeah, every once in a while, the Commander could be as enigmatic as the most wizened Jedi Master.

Anyway, Slade suddenly makes a break for it, running straight towards the Commander. He was a slippery one to make it as far as he did. Now if we hadn't already been convinced we didn't want him around, the sheer stupidity of making this move right there, right in the heart of the entire Eternal Alliance, would have been enough. Immediately, I drew my blaster and called for Slade to freeze, and our escort leveled their rifles. Six more Alliance members interposed themselves between the intruder and the Commander, ready to give their lives if needed to protect him. Arcann stepped forward as he ignited his lightsaber, wary of this apparent intruder.

Of course, all of that was superfluous when one of the people who had been escorting the target was a highly-motivated Sith.

I could tell Lana was furious that we had let this guy get anywhere close to the Commander. I mean, yeah, we had checked him for weapons and other 'toys' and it's almost impossible to think he could have actually harmed the Commander personally without them. But Lana didn't really care. She reached out with the Force, and next thing you know poor Slade is levitating in the air, grabbing his own throat in pain and desperation. Force-Choke is still part of Lana's repertoire, even if she's embraced the Commander's "tactical restraint" doctrine. She stepped towards him in full-on Sith mode, totally prepared to kill him on the spot. Naturally, by now, everyone's watching this exchange. Between communications staff, analysts, guards and Alliance members just passing through, there must be have been over thirty people watching this guy struggle for his life as Lana approached him. I sighed and holstered my weapon, hoping I wasn't about to have a corpse to cleanup.

Then came the very distinct sound of a throat being cleared, and all those eyes turned. It was the Commander himself. He had stepped forward and was holding up a forestalling hand to Lana. His expression to her was patient; his old Jedi training and discipline still occasionally served him well in his new role. Lana obviously knew that look. She didn't look at all happy, but she reluctantly lowered her arm, releasing Slade. The man fell to the floor, gasping for breath. Arcann and the others stood down, but were still wary.

The Commander stepped towards Slade and helped him to his feet, then he moved back and gave him a few moments to recover. He stood with his hands folded behind his back and his feet shoulder-width apart, looking every bit like the rock that the Alliance was built on.

"Mister Slade, was it?" the Commander spoke in a polite but very formal voice. "I'm sorry we won't be working together, but everyone who becomes part of the Alliance has my complete trust." He gestured around the room for effect. "And I'm afraid Lana and Theron have strongly advised against adding you to that list." There was a firmness to his statement that made it clear that this point was not open for discussion.

Slade, apparently, didn't pick up on that.

"But Commander." The little weasel was still recovering his breath, but his nerves were apparently doing fine. "There are things you don't know about these trusted advisors of yours!" he pointed wildly back at Lana.

The Commander didn't budge. He merely raised a questioning eyebrow at the man as people started tensing up, Lana among them.

"For example." His expression became rather smug as his confidence grew. "Did you know that after you fought side-by-side on Yavin, Darth Marr's first assignment for Lana Beniko as Minister of Sith Intelligence was to have her develop a series of tactics the Empire could use to 'neutralize' you specifically if you turned against them? She was planning ways to kill you!"

The entire chamber suddenly turned deathly silent.

"How dare you?!" Lana's voice cut through the room, her face taking on a murderous rage. Her eyes, which had already been glaring intently at Slade, seemed to shift into daggers.

I hadn't known about Slade's revelation, but I was hardly shocked by it. I stepped forward and gently put my hand on Lana's shoulder, just hoping I could keep her from making a bad situation worse. She shrugged the hand off, and then gave me a look that told me that if I were almost anyone else, I'd have lost the hand.

The Commander's eyes never left Slade. He simply raised a hand to forestall Lana from acting again. She just stood there, simmering. This two-bit operative had successfully gotten under her skin.

He hadn't gotten under the Commander's skin, though. The man still hadn't budged an inch at Slade's revelation. In fact, he had never looked away from Slade. Without looking, without even using the Force, I could tell he was appraising the room. Gauging the mood, and finding a solution.

"Well." The Commander's tone of voice was amiable, but the pitch of his voice allowed everyone listening to hear him clearly. "Then I'm very glad she never had the opportunity to use them."

That let a lot of the air out of the chamber. People relaxed just a little bit, some of them visibly exhaling from holding their breaths. There were even a few nervous chuckles from around the room, and Vette, our Twi'lek professional thief turned crack saboteur let out a high-pitched laugh. Lana still looked angry, but she blinked. Slade? He just stood there with his mouth open in disbelief.

Evidently, he had never put together a 'Plan B'.

The Commander finally started moving, pacing around Slade like a Nexu who was trying to decide if the bark rat it was stalking was worth the trouble.

The Commander's voice was level and calm. It was as if he were giving a lightsaber lesson in the training grounds. "But let me tell you another story, Mister Slade. I once met a wise man on Tatooine. To tell you the truth, he was kind of a strange, old hermit. But he taught me a few important things, including the difference between complete trust and absolute trust."

"Complete trust, you see, is what they call it when you trust someone so much that you would still trust them even if they were holding a dagger at your throat."

Here the Commander stopped, smiled and beamed proudly. "I have to tell you, Mr. Slade. The second-best part about my job is that I now have a literal army of people at my back, each of whom I trust completely." Here his arms spread wide, indicating everyone in the chamber. Still, his eyes never left Slade's.

And just like that, all the tension in the room just melted away. Guards stopped clenching their weapons. People swallowed and looked around at each other. A lot of people even smiled proudly. It wasn't just because of all the things the Commander had accomplished; it was because of all the things people hoped he'd achieve in the future. They believed in him. All of them. And knowing he believed in them empowered each of them to do whatever he asked of them.

"Now, absolute trust, on the other hand, is a little bit different." The Commander continued. "Absolute trust is what they call it when you'd still trust someone even after they had just slit your throat and left you to die with your life's blood spilt across the desert sand." He continued to use hand gestures to express the concept.

The former Imperial finally found his voice. "But… that's insane." Slade sputtered.

"No. That's trust." the Commander replied crisply. "And Alliances are built on trust."

He resumed his pacing around Slade. The operative looked like he was getting smaller and smaller the longer he held the Commander's attention.

"The point, Mister Slade, is that in this strange life I've led, I've met four remarkable people whom I trust absolutely." The corners of his lips turned upward for the briefest of moments. "Not counting AstroMech droids, of course." He smiled over at Tee-Seven, the old member of his crew, who rolled forward and returned his comment with a series of beeps.

The Commander turned back to Slade. "Now two of these four people… are lost to me forever." His eyes closed as he inhaled the air, and I could feel the sadness in his voice.

A full moment of silence was observed before he exhaled and his eyes suddenly came open, focused on Slade's and full of intensity.

"The remaining two are now standing at your sides."

I started at that, giving a little glance around. I realized that the two he was talking about were Lana and myself. She realized it, too. I saw her lips part just a little, and her eyes took on this glazed look. For the first time in the encounter, her complete attention was now on the Commander and not Slade.

Because Slade no longer mattered.

There was this enigmatic look the Commander occasionally took on. A look that was decidedly not 'Jedi'. A look that forced me to remember that for nearly a year, Valkorian had inhabited the Commander's mind as a 'back seat driver', and that while the old Emperor might be long gone (finally!), there were some lessons that he might have left behind about leadership, power and loyalty. The Commander's eyes were full of these lessons as he smiled intently on Slade.

"And if anyone needed any additional proof of Lana's loyalty, Mister Slade, then consider this: You are still alive."

I've never seen a man shrink like Slade did just then. There was nothing this weasel, this small fraction of a man, could ever do to even scratch the veneer of either the Commander or the Eternal Alliance. There was silence in the room again. But this time, people weren't nervous or apprehensive. This time, almost everyone seemed to be following the Commander's lead, looking upon Slade as an intruder. An enemy. Someone who had dared to even try to disrupt the Eternal Alliance, and was now being cast out.

For a second there, I thought we'd have to get Slade a new pair of pants.

"But since I'm in a good mood today, I'll let Theron be the one to escort you out." The Commander's smile became marginally kinder, but in a formal, detached way. His tone of voice was somehow intimidating without being threatening as he leaned in and spoke in Slade's ear, still loud enough to be heard. "Go and tell whatever masters you serve that the Eternal Alliance will not fall today."

Then, for almost the first time in the whole encounter, the Commander looked away from Slade, smiling over at me and giving me the nod.

Just like that, it was all over.

I hung back once Slade was restrained and firmly in the hands of our armed escort. I just didn't want to miss the post-credits scene. The Commander gave a confidant smile as he turned and addressed the troops.

"Back to work, everyone. The galaxy isn't going to save itself."

Everyone did just that, and let me tell you, it left them all with a renewed sense of confidence in the Eternal Alliance and what we stood for. Yeah, we all came from different places and had different views of how the galaxy should work. But every one of us believed the Commander was the man to make all that work, and that he'd find a way to win when it came time. Most of these people had endured years of hardship and loss, which was bad enough. Worse still was the uncertainty, particularly for the future.

Now they had something – someone - ensuring that they had a future worth fighting for.

It was only then, with relative privacy, that he turned to Lana with a smile. A different smile than one he gave to me or the troops; one that was just hers. I couldn't help myself. I used the cybernetic implant in my ear to eavesdrop on their exchange. Not a skill I often advertise, but it has its uses

(Hey, i am a spy.).

Lana immediately started to speak. I couldn't see her eyes clearly from this angle, but I didn't need to. She desperately wanted to explain herself. "Commander, I – " she began.

"Shhhh." he gently silenced her, reaching up and caressing her cheek. "I don't question your love. Don't question my trust."

Lana blushed, and if they hadn't been standing in a public area, I imagine she'd have been doing much more.

He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "And for the record, the time I spend with you is the best part about this job." He grinned. It made him look almost boyish. He'd accomplished more than most people would in ten lifetimes, but for all of that, he wasn't quite thirty.

"Come on." He reached down and took her hand in his. "I'll take you to dinner, and you can tell me all about these special 'tactics'." He seemed positively cheerful now, like the galaxy was finally moving in the right direction.

Lana just smiled, taking his hand and following him out.

Wow, am I right? I mean, who wouldn't walk into a Corellian hell for a man like that?

That's why I've stayed with the Alliance all this time. I'll never have a boss I admire as much as him. Or a friend.

After all, he'd given me his absolute trust.

***********************************************

After I put Slade on a shuttle headed for Nar Shadaa, I was walking out of the docking bay area when I ducked into an empty maintenance closet. I quickly unscrewed the control knob on my blaster, then I used a short length of wire from my jacket to connect it to my implant. Neither object was suspicious in and of itself, but combined they did a little bit more than you'd expect. Alliance Headquarters has security measures for this sort of thing, of course, but I designed most of them, so they wouldn't be a problem. Alone and unobserved, I spoke aloud.

"Begin transmission. Scorpion reporting. Slade was a non-starter. Next time, send an asset who's halfway competent, not to mention plausible. The Iokath Gambit remains on schedule. End transmission."

I killed the device, putting the knob back on my blaster and securing the wire between the fibers of my jacket. Then I let out a guilty sigh as I shook my head sadly.

"He's never gonna see it coming."

Hey, I did say this was all just between us, right? Our little secret?

#swtor #swtor writing #swtor fanfiction #theron shan #lana beniko #eternal alliance #i had never posted this here and thought people might like it

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supermoviemaniac · 5 years

Text

DEFENDING...

THOR: RAGNAROK!

Okay, so yesterday I asked you guys which is your least favourite MCU movie and why. I said I'd take the most commonly disliked film and try and defend it, using my personal reasonings as well as attempting to counter what issues you had with it yourselves.

Firstly, I'm quite surprised that Ragnarok was the most hated! I was expecting Age of Ultron or Iron-Man 3 (though they weren't too far behind). To make it clear, it's okay to dislike this movie, my attempt at defending the movie is just a bit of fun, but if it lets you see and appreciate the movie in a different light then that's cool! If it doesn't then that's cool too! Here goes...

I'll start with why I personally love Ragnarok, and how it was actually my favourite MCU movie, until Infinity War inevitably took that spot.

Thor was the first character in the franchise to introduce outerspace, and the cosmic side of the cinematic universe. With Iron-Man, Hulk and Cap being restricted to Earth, Thor was key to broadening what types of stories they could tell, what sort of threats and stakes could arise etc. The first Thor movie was certainly a bold move at the time, hoping that audiences would embrace the fantastical themes that he and Asgard brought to the table. Bar Thanos, Thor and Loki are the reason sh*t's going down in the first Avengers movie, so you have them to thank for that.

Flash forward to Dark World however, at this point we've seen Asgard already, so the novelty has worn off slightly. As much as the movie expands our view of Thor's home, we still feel very restricted, as though we're only seeing through a keyhole, when we actually wanna bust the door down and see what an outerspace adventure could really offer, hence why people gravitate towards Guardians of the Galaxy so heavily, because it let loose and didn't feel like it was shying away from the sci-fi elements that made the property what it was.

So with Dark World leaving a bad taste in our mouths (even though I think it's underratedly funny, but perhaps another time), and Thor not quite standing out in Age of Ultron, we're left thinking, do we really even want another Thor movie at this point? Something had to change. The studios' take on Thor was good in ways, but wasn't gripping people as much as say Iron-Man and Cap. If Captain America could have an amazing sequel, why couldn't Thor? With the damage already done via Dark World however, Ragnarok had to be Marvel's shot at redemption and reinvigoration, and I personally think it was.

There's no arguing Ragnarok was a bold step to take Thor, though not everyone agrees it was for the better. Could the Thor we were used to still work given the correct writing and direction? Who knows, but with already 'failing' once with Dark World, it was surely less of a risk to go for something completely unexpected. We go from majestic golds and elegant architecture, to crazy, vibrant, jagged imperfections that you'd expect to see in a retro sci-fi movie. The Thor we knew and expected has lightened up a little, during his few years between Age of Ultron and now, scouring the universe for information on the Infinity Stones. No pun intended, but perhaps his absent couple of years provided some much needed soul searching. So to those that wonder why Thor is suddenly so funny and witty, he's been out and about off-screen for quite a while loosening up! That's how I like to see it at least.

In the first 10 minutes, we're given more cosmic calamity than any of the other Thor movie has provided in their joint runtimes. He's in the fiery realm of Muspelheim, kicking the crap out of hellish minions and their giant demonic flame lord, Surtur, whilst the Immigrant Song plays. Then moments later, there's a damn dragon beast that's on fire that chases him, as the coolest little synth melody twinkles in the background. That cool little action scene not only gave Mjölnir the ultimate send off, but I remember thinking just from that point, "This is what Thor movies are meant to be like! This is already my favourite MCU movie!"

I think the comedy is people's biggest issue with the film. Admittedly, the style of humour was a little jarring at first, but I soon let go of doubts and embraced what the movie was trying to do. Notice how I said 'style' of humour, and not just 'humour' as a whole, because a lot of people forget just how comedic the first two Thor movies actually are. I feel like humour allows a sort of alleviation to what could potentially be something rather odd on screen. That way, if the movie embraces it's outlandish source materials, the comedy allows us to laugh with it, rather than at it. I think people are okay with the inclusion of comedic elements - I think they just weren't expecting the amplification that it had. So as I said, you can either let that ruin the film, or you can embrace/accept it, because there is just as much heart in this film as there is humour.

I know there's people that think Hela was wasted. Having watched these movies countless times, I rarely see any issues with villains anymore. The fabled 'villain problem' springs to mind, where everyone says that they were just there as a device to make the hero save the day. But what's actually wrong with that technically speaking? And how is that any different to other movies outside of the superhero realm? I see most of these villains as stepping stones for the heroes. These movies belong to the heroes, so the way I see it, the villains are there to develop and shape the good guy into whatever the finished product may be by the time the credits roll, just like all the other characters do in the movie. To prove this point, everyone loves Thanos as a villain, but that's because Infinity War was his movie, given the amount of time spent with him. I think the only exception is Loki, but his character is so well-received because he sits within the grey area of good and bad. We've seen both sides of him now.

Yes, I understand that villains are a little lack luster in most of these movies, but I liked what Hela brought to the franchise. We get the shock of discovering Thor has an older sister, she manages to take over Asgard, she demolishes everything in sight, she was the reason Thor is reinvigorated via his new right eye and weapon, she forced Thor's hand, making him enact Ragnarok (even though there's no stopping Ragnarok but it was a cool twist) and destroy Asgard, she was the first main female villain at long last, and she had a giant wolf. Some films spend more time with the villain, and some sacrifice it to focus more on the hero. There's never a straight 50:50 between good and evil in their storytelling, and I imagine it's always a hard call to make when balancing and ensuring that not only do the audience care for the hero, but also everything and everyone around them. Regardless the solo hero is always the focal point. Unless you're watching Breaking Bad or American Psycho or... *Lists shows and movies told from the bad guy's perspective*

I think the underlining disapproval stems from the fresh direction that it took. His hammer goes bye-byes, his warrior friends die just like that, Thor no longer looks or acts like the Thor we're used to, and Jane moved on. People will either be okay with those things, or it'll be too much to accept. Was the film too bold? Perhaps, but Thor can conduct lightning through his body now and that fight scene on the Bifrost bridge was badass.

Jokes aside, I suppose it's up to the individual audience member to decide whether or not the change is too much. A part of me wishes that the Thor we currently have was the Thor from the get go - things would've been different, but I love the character no matter what weapon or haircut you give him. Ragnarok gave the God of Thunder the opportunity to prove why he's a badass and not just a guy that relies on a hammer. They turned the dial up on his power level, and then again in Infinity War, which is good because I feel like prior to Ragnarok, Thor was kinda just there, y'know?

Everyone has their own favourite and least favourite movie, and no one should force you to alter your personal interests and disinterests, but if I were to wrap up what I thought of the film, Thor: Ragnarok to me is a fun, crazy joyride from start to finish, that provided a lot of heart as well as light-heartedness. It introduced some new, diverse characters whilst also giving the Hulk a much-needed story arc. A bold game-changer for the character and the lore he contributes to the MCU. It's the type of change I can appreciate and most definitely get behind!

What do you guys think? Have I swayed your opinions, or do you hate the movie more now! Let me know. Thanks for reading! Shall I do more of these? Let me know that too. I'm off to buy snacks and watch Ragnarok now, no joke!

#marvel #comics #cinema #movies #mcu #avengers #film #comic books #disney #thor #ragnarok #story #endgame #funny #chris hemsworth #tom hiddleston #tom holland #sebastian stan

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beesloosewithcanon · 5 years

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Fictober2019

Thank you, @ieatlazers for the prompt submission! I had way too much fun with it. And oh lord did I get carried away with it! It’s just over 2.5K words. Oops. I’ve put a “keep reading” break so I don’t bog down everyone’s feed. <3

If you’re interested in seeing a writing drabble from me for a specific f/f pairing, look at this post and let me know which you’d like to see! (I currently write in Dragon Age, Mass Effect, and Avatar Legend of Korra; I’d be open to also delve into the following fandoms – Avatar the Last Airbender, Overwatch, Stardew Valley, to name a few).

Prompt #11 – “It’s not always like this.”

Fanfiction – Mass Effect

Pairing – Liara T’Soni & Samantha Traynor

***

“It’s not always like this, you know,” Liara said. She couldn’t very well continue to stand in the doorway of the observatory room without announcing herself for much longer. Some of the crew were bound to walk by and take note that she was actively staring at the Communications Specialist’s backside instead of simply entering the often vacant room.

“I beg your pardon?” Traynor asked, looking away from the observatory window, her arms from their crossed position falling to her sides as she turned around, meeting Liara’s eyes.

Goddess, I seemed to have startled her, Liara thought as she tried to ensure the frown she felt internally didn’t make its way to her lips. She then held up the two steaming mugs of tea in her hands as the swish as she proceeded into the room, the automated doors swishing shut behind her.

“Shepard,” Liara continued, walking through the threshold and making a show of two steaming mugs in either hand. “He’s not typically this angry.”

Traynor gave a half shrug but reached out for her offered mug of tea with a small smile. “Are you sure? Ever since I met him, he’s acted like every other wanker CO I’ve worked under.” She scowled as she leaned her hip against the end of the nearby couch. She brought the mug to her face and took a deep inhale, a satisfied smile spreading over her lips before she took a cautious sip.

Liara watched in awe as the woman savored the taste of the tea for a few moments in her mouth before swallowing. It wasn’t often that she found herself attracted to female humans, but the Specialist was like none other she’d met. She was smart, witty, and more observant than most. The asari had half a mind to ask her to be one of her operatives, but no one on the ship yet knew that she was the galaxy’s current Shadow Broker; or that she was running her operation from the Normandy. Though, the Specialist had made several inquiries regarding her hardware that made Liara think that the woman was onto her.

Traynor sighed and looked out the window again, her shoulders drooping. “I just wish he’d leave me alone.”

Liara blinked and felt her head tilt to the side. “What do you mean?”

“That knob-head won’t stop flirting with me.” Traynor shook her head and then looked back to meet Liara’s gaze. “I’ve told him that he’s barking up the wrong tree - I’ve even explicitly told him I only shag women and the daft git still insists on trying to get me alone.”

Liara reached out and placed her hand on the woman’s forearm as she took a step forward. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I’m not quite up to date on all of the human phrases you’re using.” She attempted to smile but moved her thumb along the taut forearm underneath her hand. “Though, I’m sorry to hear that he’s being unreasonable.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about, Dr. T’Soni,” Traynor said as her brows furrowed. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Be that as it may,” Liara said softly, caught off guard by the formality of being called a doctor by the woman in front of her. “I am sympathetic. His attention is… intense.”

“Wait,” Traynor started as one of her eyebrows arched upwards. “You mean he’s like this with everyone?”

“I’m not sure about everyone,” Liara admitted. “But he definitely tried with me for a time.”

Traynor’s brown eyes went excitedly wide as a grin spread across her face. “Oh, this I have to hear!” She then moved her hand to gently grab Liara’s and began walking towards the couch.

Liara felt her cheeks increase in temperature at the feeling of the Specialist’s hand around her own. Her skin was soft and her grip was firm, but not forceful.

Traynor sat on the couch, leading the asari to do the same. Once Liara was situated, the Specialist moved so that she was facing her directly, pulling on leg up underneath her other. Her knee gently pressed into Liara’s thigh, but the mischievous smile on her face had yet to leave.

“Well?” Traynor started.

Liara cleared her throat, forcing her mind to ignore the pressure against her thigh and the warmth radiating from Traynor, as one of her arms lay across the back of the couch, mere centimeters from her own shoulders.

“When I first met Alan, he saved me from a dig site. And, well, I’d never really interacted with humans before, as I spent most of my time in the field, studying ancient prothean ruins.” Liara sighed and took a sip of her tea. “I made the mistake of telling him that I found him interesting. What with his ability to meld with ancient prothean ciphers and all... What I meant as scientific intrigue, he took as-”

“Sexual interest?”

Liara nodded. “Yes. I was young and inexperienced. Looking back on it now, there were things I would not have said. But I seemed to encourage his behavior without realizing it. And. He… well… kissed me one night.”

“He did?!” Traynor gasped, leaning in closer as she listened eagerly.

Liara nodded.

“Annnd?” Traynor probed.

“Oh, I didn’t care for it,” Liara admitted with a soft chuckle. “I don’t have much experience with physical intimacy, especially not with humans. But… he was somewhat forceful. And his facial hair felt like… I’m not sure how to describe it.”

“Rubbing off on sandpaper?” Traynor offered.

Liara felt her eyes narrow. “I don’t believe I’ve ever felt paper made of sand.”

A laugh radiated out of the Specialist, making her eyes squint. After a moment she smiled, a reddish hue tinting her cheeks and neckline. “It was rough and scratchy?”

“Oh, yes.” Liara nodded. “He hadn’t shaved for several solar days when it happened.”

Traynor smirked. “Yeah. Sandpaper. It’s ruddy gross.” Her smirk then pulled farther to the right, taking on a mischievous look. “Kissing human women isn’t anything like that,” she said suggestively.

The switch in her tone sent a pulse through Liara, ending deep into her azure. The woman’s tone had dropped slightly lower and her eyes relentlessly held Liara’s own. She’d never experienced such a reaction in herself like this before but it gave her a surge of confidence. Despite being still relatively inexperienced, there was something about the Specialist that made her feel comfortable. Like she was in a space where it was safe for her to act on feelings she’d only ever read about in silly books when her mind needed a break from the never-ending information feed of being the Shadow Broker.

Most of all, though, this wasn’t the first time Traynor had caught the attention of her entire body. They’d worked together to establish the GUI interface after Liara had joined the ship. It had been helpful, as Liara had been able to divert the needed power and cabling that she needed for her various systems while she worked alongside Traynor in the ducts. Since then, they often shared tea together after missions or when Liara happened across her in the mess. She was the best company on the ship without question. Always eager to talk to her and always able to match her level of scientific inquiry.

“Well, I am an asari of science,” she started as she bent over, placing her mug of tea on the ground by the leg of the couch. Samantha watched her curiously but stayed quiet, listening attentively. “I can’t come to a proper conclusion without proper testing.”

Traynor’s gaze locked with Liara’s as she rolled her bottom lip through her teeth. She then moved, bending and putting her own mug down on the floor before sitting back up. Samantha looked Liara’s face over again. “As a woman of science and math myself,” she started, her tone maintaining its suggestive lilt. “Data integrity is extremely important to the scientific process. Which means you should gather all of the data personally.”

Liara smiled. “It would be negligent of me to proceed any other way.”

The pressure of Traynor’s knee against her leg increased as she leaned forward. Her brown eyes roved over Liara’s body. And for once, it didn’t feel like she was being assessed or an object that someone wanted to devour or judge. Traynor’s gaze was playful and appreciative.

“I’d be happy to help you gather the data,” she said, her voice soft and only for Liara to hear. “For the sake of science, of course.” But Traynor remained still, her posture leaned in and her eyes never leaving Liara’s.

Liara could feel her heart thrumming through her bones. She had spent enough time with humans now to be sure that Traynor’s banter was flirtatious. The way she leaned in, the way her pink lips were parted just so made it apparent that she was genuinely offering despite the playfulness of her suggestion. In other circumstances, others would have simply moved in and kissed her; but Traynor stayed still. Waiting.

Her cheeks flushed with warmth when it clicked: Traynor was giving her the option. She didn’t have to kiss her if she didn’t want to, and it seemed clear that the Specialist wasn’t going to kiss her and then blame her for leading her on as Shepard had done all those years ago. Traynor was leaving the space open so Liara had time to make the decision herself. The realization made Liara’s heart flutter more sporadically, but she smiled and leaned in.

“Strictly for science,” Liara teased back, her words spoken just before she pressed her lips against the Specialist’s. When their lips met, a hum of satisfaction radiated out of Liara’s throat that she wasn’t at all expecting. But the sound seemed to intrigue Samantha, as she leaned further in, placing a delicate hand on the side of Liara’s face.

By the goddess, she thought as Samantha’s tongue slid against her own. The movement of their mouths sent another pulse that radiated throughout her body, but ached demandingly, deep in her azure. At first, she wasn’t sure what her body was doing until she felt the distinct pull in the back part of her mind. She could feel her entire nervous system as it yearned for her to engage in a meld as her lips and tongue moved with Samantha’s. But just as she registered what it was that her body and mind wanted, Samantha began to lean away.

Liara wanted to grab for her, to not let the moment stop. But Traynor had been so respectful about letting her make the decision to engage that she knew it would be rude of her to try and keep her longer than she felt comfortable.

As their lips parted, Liara’s eyes opened slowly and watched as the honey-skinned woman leaned away, a satisfied smile playing along her lips. Her eyes then opened from their half-lidded state, going slightly wide as her hand moved higher, her thumb caressing along Liara’s brow.

“Your eyes,” she said breathlessly. “They’re black.”

“What?” Liara blinked and turned away. But as she did so, she felt it too - the haze around her vision. An indication that her body still wanted to meld minds with the woman in front of her. “I’m so sorry. It’s… it’s not normally like this,” Liara said frantically.

Samantha’s hand gently pulled her to look back towards her, her thumb caressing along Liara’s cheekbone. “Is everything alright? Are you in pain?” Her voice was saturated with concern, her previous mischievous and suggestive lilt nowhere to be heard.

Liara closed her eyes and placed her hand overtop Samantha’s, leaning her cheek into the touch. “No. Quite the contrary, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

Liara waited to respond and forced her mind to relax. A meld with someone, especially a meld with someone who she was so attracted to, was dangerous to do this quickly. She could show too much, or go too quickly and hurt Traynor, or she could lose herself and her control and have an unplanned child. Despite how naturally it came on from the Specialist’s touch, it was not the time for it.

“Have you heard of the asari mind meld?” Liara asked, as she slowly opened her eyes. The haze around her vision was gone. Samantha’s own eyes blinked and Liara swore she heard the woman say “wow” under her breath. The indicators all pointed to her eyes having gone back to their natural blue.

“I’ve read quite a bit about it, yeah.”

Liara simply nodded, ignoring the warmth radiating into her cheeks again. “I’ve never had it start on its own before. Normally it takes a fair bit of mental effort to engage.”

Samantha smirked. “So are you saying we just…”

“No,” Liara said softly. “It didn’t fully manifest. It did catch me by surprise, however.” She then smiled to herself and made direct eye contact with Samantha. “Perhaps all human women have a similar effect on Asari.”

“Or maybe perhaps just this one?” Traynor asked, her tone returning to is previously playful canter as her eyebrows waggled up and down.

“I think I’d need to gather more data on that,” Liara said, allowing herself to smile.

“On other human women?” Traynor asked.

Liara might have imagined it but Traynor’s tone shifted into uncertainty and nervousness.

“No,” Liara said as she put her hand down onto Traynor’s thigh, her fingers pulling at the seam of her Alliance fatigues and applying pressure to indicate she wanted the woman closer. “Just this one,” she repeated.

Traynor smiled, moving forward as Liara’s not so subtle fingers demanded. “Take all the data you need.”

Their lips crashed together, hungrier than before. Liara let her hands move up to wrap around Traynor’s neck to pull her even closer. Her body was more than eager to move and pushed forward, her hands going to Liara’s shoulders as she realigned her body to pin the asari to the couch.

“For the love of -” Lieutenant Commander Williams’ voice echoed through the observatory room. “I sleep in here! Don’t you have an entire room of your own?!”

Samantha tore her lips away from Liara as they both looked to the doorway. Before Liara wanted to respond, but she was distracted by the haze of her vision again.

“Terribly sorry,” Samantha said as she stood up from the couch, her hand firmly grabbing Liara’s hand and guiding her up. “We were just about to leave.”

“I’m sure,” Williams said as she crossed her arms over her chest and jutted her hip out to the side.

Liara let Traynor lead her from the couch and across the room. She had half a mind to try and grab for their mugs, but the Specialist’s steps were too quick. They both muttered another apology to the LC before passing her in the doorway to leave.

“Ugh, when did the Normandy become the damn SS Love Boat?” they heard Williams mutter as the door closed behind them.

The haze dissipated from her vision just as her eyes met Traynor’s again. They both broke into a fit of laughter, holding onto each others’ arms just outside of the observatory room door.

With laughter still shining in her eyes, Traynor confidently took Liara’s hand again and took a preemptive step down the hall. “Would you like to maybe continue what was interrupted in your quarters?”

“Goddess yes,” Liara said, her hand tightening around Traynor’s as she began walking, half pulling the eager Specialist with her.

#fictober19 #fictober drabbles #fictober day 3 of 4 #mass effect #fanficiton #mass effect fanfiction #samantha traynor and liara t'soni #Traynor and Liara #2588 words #rated T #fluff #kissing #liara t'soni #samantha traynor #rarepair #this was fun #send me more prompts!#gimme those prompts #do eeet

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vradika · 6 years

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🌓 Vaderwan/Vaderkin Obikin Fic Recs

Updated 5/10/2021

Here you’ll find the Obikin Fic Rec Masterlist, and here are some tags and warnings in case you don’t want to read about certain topics:

🔥= Mustafar AU ⌛= Time travel/de-aged/rebirth 🔗= Slavery 🍫= Explicit sexual content 🍂= Master-student relationship or mentions/underage

🔥♥♥♥♥♥Dearly despised by Anonymous Status: on going Where a Jedi was spotted, Darth Vader was sure to follow, leaving behind a trail of corpses; Jedi or otherwise. To finish what he started when he knelt down and swore allegiance to a new Emperor. To finally bring peace to a galaxy that had been ripped apart from war.Obi-Wan knew better. This was a more personal matter: Vader wanted revenge. Vader wanted him.

🍫🔥♥♥♥♥ where every mask cracks by little_tales Status: on going

Four years after the birth of the Galactic Empire, Obi-Wan approaches Darth Vader with an offer he doesn't expect.

⌛♥♥♥♥With the will of the force, In the palm of my hand. by Spice_Runner Status: hiatus

After Obi-wan's supposed death on the death star,Darth Vader is sent back in time to his home planet by the will of the force, in the body of his nineteen year old self. He's been given a second chance,but to do what with? He doesn't know. All he knows if that the Jedi are alive once again,and so is Obi-wan. He plans to destroy the Jedi again without the rise of Darth Sidious,and With Obi-wan at his side as his apprentice. To right the wrongs of the Jedi,rebuild his Empire as he sees fit and take back all those he loves. The Force has different plans.

🍫♥♥♥♥come back from the dark by amidnightlove Status: on going

Almost a year after Mustafar, Obi-Wan is slowly becoming accustomed to living in exile, being an unmated Omega and watching over Luke. And then an imperial pod crashes into Tatooine.

🍫♥♥♥snowbound by amidnightlove Status: complete

Sent to Ilum to investigate the sighting of a new Sith apprentice, Obi-Wan expects to simply find them and detain them. Sharing shelter with a Sith during a snowstorm was the last of his wishes.

♥♥♥♥♥Neutron star collision by liv_k Status: on going

A neutron star merger is a type of stellar collision. When two neutron stars orbit each other closely, they spiral inward as time passes due to gravitational radiation. When the two neutron stars meet, their merger leads to the formation of either a more massive neutron star, or a black hole. In the aftermath of Order 66, Anakin Skywalker's miraculous survival after his confrontation with the new Sith Apprentice Darth Vader ignites a sparkle of hope in the remaining Jedi, in the fledgling rebellion and, above all, in his former Master, who had thought he had lost everything to darkness. But darkness is generous, and it is patient. [Title changed from "This time we'll fall together"]

⌛♥♥♥there is peace (peace is a lie) by luminousbeingsweare Status: on going

Ben Kenobi, Wizard of the Wastes, was really tired of this. For some ridiculous reason, he really thought he'd be able to rest for once in his (after)life. Of course, it couldn't be that simple. Judging by the intense cursing coming from Darth Vader's - or was it Anakin? - side of the room, it seemed he wasn't the only one in this predicament.Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker are thrown out of the afterlife back to right before AOTC starts. Everything goes to hell.

🔥 ♥♥Bound to Me by ilcuoreardendo Status: complete Summary: One of the memories Anakin carries away from Geonosis is that of his master in chains.

⌛♥♥♥♥♥ Vader in time by SWModdy Status: on going

Summary: He’s given a new chance. Or rather Vader takes the new chance as he feels the death of Obi-Wan somewhere out in the wide galaxy, the Jedi passing utterly alone without Vader there and in a moment of madness everything becomes clear… so he takes a new chance for himself. By going back. And this time Palpatine shall not take it all from him.

🍫♥♥♥♥What Dwells in Us by Caudipteryx dreamwidth

Status: complete

Summary: Three months have passed since Obi-Wan Kenobi arrived on Tatooine. He has settled into a quiet, uneventful life in the desert, watching over the infant Luke from afar. Alas, his life isn’t going to stay quiet or uneventful for much longer.

Or: The story of Obi-Wan’s years in exile I have always wanted to read. (Yes, it is written in first person, and I know a lot of people hate first person. But this serves a very specific aesthetic purpose; if you think the subject matter may interest you, please try giving it a chance anyway.)

🔥♥♥♥ Eyes by TiBun

Status: hiatus (last update: 2017-11-11)

Summary: Darth Vader had won the inner battle. He had wrapped Anakin in darkness and snuffed out his light. But Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure Anakin was completely gone, and the Sith Lord's eyes could be very telling.

♥♥♥ Ascension by lilyconrad

Status: complete

Summary: Anakin loathes the soulmark Obi-Wan bears, a black dragon that will one day take his beloved master away from him.

🍫♥♥♥♥♥The Negotiator Series by Ralph_E_Silvering

Status: complete

Part one 🍫♥♥♥♥ The Negotiator: Darth Vader was always arrogant. He forgot that Obi-Wan had spent 20 years in the desert, with nothing to do but learn new ways to mess with him. Or the story of how Darth Vader touches Obi-Wan Kenobi's lightsaber after the events on Cloud City but forgets about that little Force-trick of psychometry. Obi-Wan has one last surprise for his old Padawan.

Part two 🍫♥♥♥ Hindsight: Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi woke every night, sweating and gasping, from nightmares of Darth Vader. It had been nine years since he had watched his Padawan burn, watched the Republic fall, watched his life be destroyed around him. And every night he saw Anakin’s face, twisted by evil, his eyes sickly yellow, as he screamed his hatred of Obi-Wan. It was that last which he could not bear.

Part three 🍫♥♥ Darth Vader's Master: Yet always he would be pulled awake far too soon, finding himself in his sterile and empty Imperial chambers, hard and aching once more.........

Part four 🍫♥♥After the End: Obi-Wan tilted his chin up until their eyes met, and Anakin felt shame burn through him. But Obi-Wan was still smiling, his eyes deepest blue-green, and as he bent to place a gentle kiss on Anakin’s lips, the younger man finally began to relax. “Hello, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, joy suffusing his presence.

♥♥♥And Back Again by DreamingMoonlight

Status: complete

Summary: Darth Vader is on Tatooine with a mission and cannot be stopped. Not until the Witch of the Junland Wastes stands in his path and changes the course of his destiny.

Also, look at this lovely art by @crinzinzey

⌛🍫♥♥♥ Soldier, Poet, King by Glare @glare-gryphon

Status: hiatus (last update: 2017-06-08)

Summary: Second chances are very rarely given, but the Force smiles upon two of its favorite children and returns them to a time before their actions have met their consequences. Anakin Skywalker, also known as Darth Vader, seeks redemption while Obi-Wan “Ben” Kenobi, disillusioned with the Jedi Order and its Code, falls to the Darkness. Trapped out of time, Master and Apprentice must once again work together to stop Sideous’ plans from reaching fruition and bring Balance to the Force—all the while dodging the Jedi, the Sith, and their feelings for each other.

♥♥ Disjointed by Ha_neul @octavigustus

Status: complete

Summary: Returning to Tatooine to erase his past, Vader reunites with his old lover and their son.

⌛♥♥♥♥ I myself have torn myself to shreds by iiscos @jamesalarcon

Status: complete

Summary: The Force whispers in its ageless voice, its touch peaceful and lulling against Vader’s ancient soul, “Tell me your biggest regrets.”

Or the five times Anakin traveled back in time with the intention of making things better, and the one time that it actually worked. I would say this story begins as Vader and ends in Anakin, a more wise Anakin who have suffered a lot.

⌛♥♥ Anathema by poplitealqueen (Isimun) @poplitealqueen

Status: hiatus (last update: 2016-11-29)

Summary: An illogical visitor appears on the Death Star, following the apparent death of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

🔥♥ Am I only dreaming? by Kris_Amethyst (now orphan account)

Status: dropped (last update: 2016-03-10)

Summary: It's been five years since Obi-Wan Kenobi saw Darth Vader. Now, in the deserts of Tatooine, he finds a seemingly amnesiac Anakin Skywalker who doesn't know of his fall. Can he and Padmé save him once and for all?

⌛♥♥♥♥ Tell Me, Show Me by LeelaLaFleur ArvisTaljik

Status: hiatus (last update: 2016-07-02)

Summary: While searching the Force for the spirit of his former Master, Vader finds himself thrown deep into the past. Free of the Dark Side and with his youthful body back, Vader/Anakin is ready to change his own destiny for better, but when he comes across shy, yet incredibly stubborn Padawan Kenobi, everything rapidly spirals out of control and the ex-Sith is forced to face some of the old attractions and attachments....

⌛♥♥♥♥♥ Return to the Point of No Return by theascetic

Status: complete

Summary: He turns around, his tunic soaked with blood, and holds the gorgon's head up by its wispy hair.

"Anakin, please-"

"Don't beg me, Master,” says the last of the Sith, tenderly reaching to cup Obi Wan's hot cheek with a gore-stained hand. “Command me.”

The ever-popular time travel fix-it fic... with a bit of a twist.

🔥♥ Go Away Closer by MissPop (before poplitealqueen (Isimun) ) @poplitealqueen

Status: hiatus (last update: 2016-04-04)

Summary: 'Go Away Closer' aka a double bind: where every decision you make feels like the wrong one. However, in Zen Buddhism, it's also viewed as a path to enlightenment. The impossible question with no correct answer.This is a Star Wars AU, a Mustafar AU to be exact, where Obi-Wan doesn't cut Anakin down to size and nothing is okay.

Also a SPOILER WARNING of Go Away Closer, for the next one shot:

🍫♥♥ Comorbidity by MissPop,poplitealqueen (Isimun) @poplitealqueen

Status: complete

Summary: Anakin's premonitory "Probably-Palpatine-Just-Fucking-With-Him-But-Also-Lowkey-His-Old-Pal-The-Force-Trying-To-Give-Him-A-Head's-Up" nightmares return.

🔥♥♥♥♥♥ I have lied my way to the stars by iiscos @jamesalarcon

Status: hiatus (last update: 2016-03-13)

Summary: Anakin wavers in darkness, while Obi-Wan questions the light.Or another post-RotS AU where Obi-Wan is captured on Mustafar.

⌛♥♥♥♥♥ Second Life by Sapphirethief

Status: hiatus (last update: 2017-01-05)

Summary: Vader takes his last breath only to wake in times long past.

...keep updating

#obikin #fic rec #aniobi #fic #fic list #vaderwan #vaderkin #anakin #skywalker #obi wan #kenobi #obikin fic rec

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groundbreaking-science · 6 years

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2-0 - Sensing and Manipulation - “Breaking the Natural Flow”

How does that picture book retelling of the Cell Games go again? We had it at one point, a staple of Pan’s bedtime routine. You can never find these things when you need them of course but I’m sure I remember the broad strokes.

Once upon a time there was an alien called Cell. Cell was very bad. It liked to eat people for dinner, and the tastiest people of all were the scared kind. One day, Cell snuck down to Earth to eat. It gobbled up one person for breakfast, but that wasn’t enough. It gobbled up two people for lunch, but that still wasn’t enough. It gobbled up three whole people for dinner but yet that still was not enough! Now, scaring people was hard work and always left Cell hungry. If it was going to eat its fill, Cell needed to scare the entire world at once…

Cell was cunning, and devised a plan to challenge the world to a tournament. If Earth could beat it, it would go away hungry, but if Cell won it’d eat everyone for its dinner! But Cell was also a cheater. It used explosions and magic tricks on its TV show to scare everyone away from competing. He decided to let the world stew in fear for nine days. The longer people were afraid, the tastier they would be. It licked its lips in anticipation, thinking itself so very clever.

But Cell did not expect Mr. Satan, the World’s Champion to come to the rescue! Cell threw fire and lasers to scare Mr. Satan into giving up, but he was brave, and saw through its lies. Cell was not strong at all - it was all just magic tricks! Cell pleaded for its life but the alien had been too wicked across the Galaxy to escape justice. With one huge Satan Punch, Cell was defeated. His punch was so strong it undid all Cell’s evil and everyone came back to life! Mr. Satan had saved the world, and he keeps us safe to this day. The End.

The story is an alarmingly macabre one of good and evil, a comment on how we should fight against trickery and be brave in the face of adversity. Even better because it’s true, yes?

For those old enough to remember The Games themselves, I’m sure you’ll agree the picture painted above is a gross simplification at best. Notable omissions include the civil unrest after Cell’s broadcast, Mr. Satan’s initial loss in the ring before all pretence of the tournament was lost and of course the mysterious challengers - me and my friends and family. In fact our presence is completely glossed over these days in material for all ages. This is by design. We would rather you forget about that ragtag band using the same magic tricks as Cell. The most charitable accounts of our appearance say we were misguided amateurs wanting to make a name for ourselves. The least forgiving say we were in on the plot. Very few theories have the measure of it.

If you were to root through ZTV’s archives, deep in the vaults below ZPress’ main headquarters, there, on an unassuming rack, you’d find the original battered camera footage and corresponding Cell Games’ broadcast tapes. These tapes went missing until very recently. Oh, their absence was noted, though never publicised - what an embarrassment that would have caused. I know because I had them at home on my own shelf. I was curious what little footage there was towards the end of the bout, as my own memories were vivid but distorted over the years. Suffice to say that with what they showed I was a little reluctant to return them. Still, after this, I’m sure they’ll be hauled out, and with a little imagination and extrapolation there’s enough there to confirm my story.

Pan very much enjoyed the picture book - cajoling her Gramps to act the events out with her when they played. But when she was old enough to understand how to keep secrets I retold the story somewhat differently. Bear with me as the truth is a little more winding; with a far larger cast filled with knights, monsters, witches and wizards, giants and the Chimera itself, and begins some three years before the Games themselves.

Are you tucked in tight? Good. Then I’ll begin.

There once was a boy called Trunks.

Now. The Trunks in this story was not the Trunks we know and love today. Yes, they both were the son of an uncrowned King from a long-lost kingdom and the Good Witch, and they both grew up in those vaulted corridors of Capsule Castle. They even looked the same: the same set jaw when serious, the same high hairline inherited from their father, hidden behind those bangs. They both could swing a sword. But this Trunks was a little more polite, not as self-assured, would have to learn to laugh a little more - and I’m sure he wouldn’t have played tricks on his sister and niece half as much as the Trunks we know.

This Trunks was waiting. The cliffs from which he watched the unfolding scene below were like those at home - all but desolate for miles around. But he could feel the world and this world was truly alive; millions upon millions of people across the land, more than he’d ever sensed. And that gave him hope.

He had heard stories of the warriors in past-times led by the Golden Knight, your own Grandpa Son Goku; the strongest and bravest fighter there had ever been. At home and in foreign lands the secret order battled against evil wizards, demons and monsters to keep their chosen homeland safe for the King and his subjects. The warriors and knights were different from the rank and file of the King’s soldiers, for they knew how to harness the power of Words to bring forth great strength from within; echoing the powers of beasts, or of fire and the Sun, great winds, and even dragons. Trunks had been taught the same secret Words, but he was all alone in his land, not even yet a grown man but defending it as best he could from terrible monsters. He had come to our land to find your Grandpa, the Golden Knight of Legend, and to warn him.

Down below I was waiting too, though in great fear. I was just a lowly squire back then, surrounded by the great warriors Trunks had only heard of, along with the Good Witch - your Auntie Bulma. Your Grandpa had been travelling in distant lands to learn more Words and secrets and had promised to return soon. But now it would be too late. Far from the joyful reunion we were one day hoping for, we found ourselves yet again rushing towards trouble. Your Grandpa had not vanquished that conqueror of other lands - the evil “Lord” Freeza. The Tyrant had risen again, and this time we were to face him alone.

Now Freeza was upon us, his ship weighing anchor behind our hideaway cliffs. His forces flooded ashore, followed by himself and his much stronger father. We panicked. For the third time in my seven years of life I was preparing myself to face down impossible odds.

However, high on the cliffs the lonely knight was not concerned. He knew the story - the Golden Knight of Legend would appear in a few hours and save the lands once again. Trunks would just hold on until the battle was over to give his message in secret before travelling home…

But something was wrong.

Soon, Trunks could see, we would be abandoning our hiding spot to make our desperate surprise attack. He knew that would spell our doom, the difference in strength between even this land’s greatest warriors and the Tyrant far too great. There wasn’t much time. With Grandpa not around, Trunks would have to intervene.

As we readied ourselves for what could be our last moments I sensed the impossible and froze - Freeza’s henchman dying in a moment beyond the rock, their lives snuffed out as if a candle flame in a gale. But before I had a chance to grapple with this, above us flew a figure bright against the sky, shining golden, almost as blinding as the Sun itself. A memory of crystallized righteous rage came back to me then: a Golden Knight, a legend realised in the distant land of Namek. Was this Grandpa? No. Stronger than I remembered. The apparition cleaved Freeza in two with his sword, sliced him to pieces and blasted him into nothingness with just his breath. Freeza! Grandpa’s struggle with the Tyrant had razed the entire Namekian’s homeland to the ground, but here was a new Golden Knight, so much stronger than your Grandpa, and he’d destroyed Freeza with barely a shrug.

We rushed closer to see, hoping the miracle was not a trick of the distance. Even Freeza’s father wasn’t a problem for him. The Golden Knight defeated him easily, burnt their ship - then turned to greet us warmly and politely. We were relieved to find out he was on our side. He told us he knew when and where your Grandpa would come ashore and asked us whether we wanted to come and greet him. But how could anyone know that?

Knights were born not made, that was a fact, and I thought I knew all of them. What’s more, the Golden Knight was only supposed to appear once every thousand years. Up close the boy didn’t look much of a knight to me - his eyes and hair were too light - but there was no doubt about his bloodline. And if he could become a Golden Knight, could I?

I had a lot of questions for this young knight. The others asked theirs in turn but he rebuffed them all. He couldn’t explain himself or how he knew your Grandpa. A secret mission from a far away land, I guessed.

True to the boy’s word Grandpa came ashore exactly when expected and we rushed to greet him. He was glad to see us after his long journey, but looked past us to the new knight. Your Grandpa had never met the boy either, even though the knight claimed to know of him.

They spoke away from us for some time, the boy revealing in secret to your Grandpa who he truly was, his name and parentage. A knight indeed from a far away land - but far away in time, not distance. This Trunks was from the future, and carried a grave story of our fates.

In Age 767, on May 12th at around 10 am, two monsters of immense destructive power would appear on an island 9 miles southwest of South City - Amenbo Island. Wanting nothing more than to kill for fun, these monsters would easily obliterate every fighter and soldier in the land in their first onslaught. From there they would decimate the population, cruelly hunting the King’s subjects for sport to pass their time. The monsters never stopped. Your uncles would hardly make a stand, run through almost instantly. I would escape, and use the understanding of the Golden Knight I had gained as a squire to become one myself. I’d teach the boy the same in turn, acting as his mentor to hone him as a warrior and pass on every Word I knew until I too would succumb. And Grandpa? The great Golden Knight himself would never even see the battle - he would die of a sudden sickness of the heart in a matter of months.

The Fates in the boy’s time said we were all doomed. But not now, not with his warning. His land was nearly lost but we still had time to save our future. The boy gave Grandpa a potion to cure him when he would fall sick, and before leaving gave us his word he would return when the day came, should he survive the time between trips. Then, almost as suddenly as he’d entered our story, he vanished into the ether.

Seeing his magic as proof of the boy’s prophecy, the warriors all vowed to meet again at the battlefield in three years time, fully prepared. For the most part we went our separate ways, myself with Grandpa back home to your Grandma and our tranquil farm in the hills. But it would not remain quiet for long - we’d need to train together.

Those three years were an odd time for us. Dreaming of a future felt wrong (knowing what was coming), but I am grateful your Grandma insisted we live as normally as possible. I continued my schooling with her, learning my words and numbers to fulfil my wish to become a Great Scholar someday, to take advantage of the peacetime we hoped for, and with Grandpa I trained to become a real warrior Knight, preparing to one day hold the flame of the Golden Knight, him teaching me many of the Words he knew, ready for the future we knew was coming.

Often I would lay awake at night wondering about the boy, the knight we met that fateful day, whether there was anyone thinking of a future for him like Grandma was for me. With May 12th fast approaching I hoped we’d see him safe again.

We would only find out what truly happened to Trunks’ land and how he came to find us when we met him the second time. In his land there was no Uncle Goten to play with, no little Bra to carry on his shoulders, not even a little Pan to defend his castle against. Trunks was a sworn soldier through and through. When his teacher - the me in the future - had lost his life in battle he made a promise to protect all he could and vowed to defeat those great monsters. There weren’t many people left in his land, but Trunks did what he could all the same.

His only constant company was his mother: the Good Witch Bulma. Like Trunks she helped everyone she could by making potions and spells and enchantments. But try as she might, she could not magic away the worst evil - those two monsters. After years of trying their best and still retreating at every turn, most would lose hope of ever finding a way out of that nightmare. Not the Good Witch. She knew that if her magic couldn’t get them out of the situation they were in now, maybe they just had to change what now was…

Time travel should be impossible, but that word meant nothing to your Auntie Bulma. She worked day and night for years to construct her own special enchantment, the like of which no witch or wizard in the world has ever made before or since: a time changer. Whoever used the device could travel in time, but there would only be enough magic for a trip to the past and back before it needed to be restored, and that could not be done quickly. Bulma had sent Trunks off to see us and held her breath for those few hours, overjoyed when he returned safe and sound. Her magic vindicated, she immediately she set to work restoring the enchantment.

From then on Trunks faced his monsters with renewed vigour. Now he knew the past had a fighting chance because of his warning and if he could just visit us once more to assist he might learn a secret to defeat them in his own time. As he fought on to stem the loss of life, the Good Witch worked as fast as she dared, fearing the monsters drawing closer and closer.

Two years in Trunks’ time would pass before the enchantment was ready to use and his fateful trip finally a reality. He said goodbye to his mother not knowing whether he would ever see her again - neither his return trip or her survival in the meanwhile assured.

With one command he made his way back to us hopeful for our progress and found - well, a mess, quite frankly.

Death and destruction greeted him at our meeting place nine miles south west of South City. Trunks’ prediction was wrong; the monsters had crawled out of their cave too early and had rampaged through the island we had so desperately wanted to defend. Barely anything was left standing. He found us in the midst of tracking down the perpetrators. Worse, your Grandpa wasn’t with us to turn the tide; he’d only just fallen ill and taken the Good Witch’s potion, now bedridden at home.

And to complete our misery, those weren’t the two monsters Trunks knew. The past had truly changed. Trunks was as lost as we were.

Thankfully our training had paid off at least - early in your uncles’ desperate chase, your Uncle Vegeta caught and crushed the first monster. Up close we could see this one’s true nature; it wasn’t a demonic beast but manmade, conjured with a dark and powerful magic, an imitation of life puppeting nuts and bolts. The magic was a type the Good Witch hadn’t seen in many years: the work of Gero the Dark Wizard. In fact, the Good Witch informed us that the other monster was none other than the Wizard himself - though not in human form. He had used his wicked magic to transform himself, becoming stronger and smarter. In his cunning he had led us to his lair, where more creatures laid in wait to defend him.

Three creations laid in wait. The first he called 16, the kind of opponent we were expecting - a giant in stature with an overwhelming menace emanating from him, a great wall of possessed machinery who scowled and scrutinised all as though looking for someone.

The last two monsters were finally those of Trunks’ warning - 17 and 18. Though we found them wanting in appearance - we envisioned horns and teeth and tails and wings, and given Trunks’ fear you would have thought that’s what he saw, plain as day.

In truth, the terrible twins were human. Young and beautiful, they could pass unseen amongst us if they wished. Far from the full artifice of their companion, they had once been human. But the wizard had mutated them, blood and bone and all, to draw out an unnatural strength; then cursed them as he had done his creations of metal. They had but one purpose, one itch to scratch, the Wizard cackled - to seek and destroy Son Goku.

The wizard bade the three to kill all those who stood before him. Your uncles braced for what would be the final battle. And then… nothing. Instead, the twins turned on their creator, their torturer, running him through in an instant for the crimes he had committed against them.

Cruelly however, his curse was not broken. 16 in particular, not being made of flesh, could not battle his driving desire and so the trio left to help him fulfil his binding, all the while paying the warriors no mind. This turn of events was far from expectation, and the small army now found itself without an enemy.

In Trunks’ future, the monsters 17 and 18 were pure evil and without care - that much was true. But Uncle Krillin did not see this in the Seventeen and Eighteen of our time when they pushed past him into the wide world they’d been hidden from for so long. Far from the murderers Trunks had painted them as, Krillin instead saw a tired, wretched pair who might be reasoned with. Everyone thought him mad, but Uncle Krillin hoped the damage to our land may not be as deadly as we’d first feared.

Regardless of the twins’ eventual intentions, our focus now turned to protecting your Grandpa from the trio. He had barely recovered, and would not be able to fight the three monsters if they soon found him. I helped move him from home in secret, and your uncles worked to intercept the monsters; the great warriors now coming to the aid of their leader in his time of need.

Despite two Golden Knights supporting the band - both father and son in Vegeta and Trunks - without your Grandpa the warriors would struggle. Though not as cruel in our time, the strength of Seventeen and Eighteen was even greater than in the stories Trunks had told. We were prepared to match Trunks’ future and no more.

Whether your uncles would have won in the end is uncertain. A greater threat still was heading towards both us and the monsters, indifferent to our respective causes.

We didn’t notice the disappearances right away, distracted by the struggle at hand as we were. While our back were turned, entire towns of people had emptied, only their clothes left for passing travellers to stumble across. On any other day we would have sensed the void of life growing and helped, if we could. But this day we learnt something was wrong only as the whispers reached our friends at home. Something else was out there, something beyond the horrors that even Trunks had seen.

The Chimera had arrived.

Cell stepped out of the shadows to announce itself to us, its sheer brazen confidence terrifying to behold. The history books speak of it as a demon from another land, but Cell was instead the pinnacle of The Dark Wizard’s creation. In secret he had gathered blood from the strongest warriors in the realm and beyond, and used blood magic to create a creature so grotesque, so wicked, I wouldn’t dare describe it to someone as sweet as you. It was a Chimera, and called itself Cell. To gain strength it would need to eat hundreds of people alive, and to complete itself - to reach the peak of its evolution - it would have to take Seventeen and Eighteen. It was already stronger than us, and we knew if it achieved its goal its power would be beyond our imagination. Our home - and very lives - would be lost.

What should have been a battle against the twisted 17 and 18 to save our future had exploded into a fight to save our lives and our present. Within seconds everything had been turned upon its head, and we were now doing the unthinkable given our three years of preparation - defending the cursed creatures Seventeen and Eighteen from this new monstrosity. They were just as scared as we were.

But just in time, a near miracle! The Good Witch of our time sent your uncles her magic. She had been pouring over the Dark Wizard’s work and had found instructions for a potion, one that would undo the wizard’s sorcery on the human monsters, killing them in the process but making them useless to Cell. She entrusted this potion to Uncle Krillin. All he had to do was to fling the potion on them - a single drop would do the job.

Uncle Krillin rushed to find them, difficult though it was when both he and they were keeping low and away from Cell. He found them with moments to spare and aimed his throw, but he could not release. Uncle Krillin knew that everyone was counting on him to kill the monsters before Cell could eat them, but as he watched them cowering, trying to help the heavily damaged giant Sixteen, he faltered. He realised how they had not killed anyone for fun like in Trunks’ time and were only afraid for themselves, for each other… Instead, he poured the potion at his feet. Against everyone’s protestations he had stayed his hand, unable to bring himself to kill innocent people. He hoped against hope it was the right thing to do.

In the short term, it is fair to say that this was not the best decision. Cell caught the monsters and completed itself, becoming far stronger than any of us could have believed possible. Despite our efforts we had lost the battle. And yet, choices we make with a kind heart, even if initially regrettable, often have a habit of helping us in return when we least expect it.

Cell could have killed your uncles right then and there. But pride is a funny thing and Cell - to its detriment - had plenty. It could not face killing us before it had had a chance to best your Grandpa in battle. It wanted everyone in the land to weep hearing the sad laments of bards learning their one true secret champion had been defeated, and to tremble upon learning that Cell was on its way to set the land - and the world - to burn.

This is where the story begins for most everyone else. For years people would ask each other where they were the moment Cell announced the Games, his call for a worthy challenge and the nine day countdown to the everyone’s doom. On that fateful day, Cell’s proclamation filled the people with an overwhelming fear. They had no faith in the King’s Guard, weakened after years of peace throughout the land. And they had no faith in the King’s champions.

But the world had forgotten that long ago, there lived a little boy who fought the Great Demon King Piccolo.

The world had forgotten the warrior who turned aside the threat of the invading Knights and Tyrants.

The world had forgotten your Grandpa.

And in doing so they - and Cell - knew nothing of me.

In the nine days between the announcement and the Games, the land panicked. Your uncles panicked. I panicked. But not Grandpa. After recovering from his illness, he worked patiently with me so I could learn and finally master the way of the Golden Knight he, Trunks and now Uncle Vegeta knew; everyone would be needed for this fight, after all. Scared as I was holding this new Wordless flame inside my heart, I was willing to do my part to help. Then, with still a week to go, we stopped. Grandpa said we were ready.

The news excited me. Do you think you can beat Cell? I asked him. Not a chance, he sang, but I have a plan. He just smiled at me, like I should be in on his secret strategy too. Our friends asked the same and he repeated his reply. To not think he could lead us to victory, yet be so happy? Some wondered whether Grandpa had lost his mind. I didn’t understand him, but I believed in him, and had faith in his unspoken plan.

The only training we were to do between then and the Games was to live as a Golden Knight day and night, to feel as though this was normal for us so we would not tire or be overcome with that wild emotion. In trying to navigate our day on the homestead we learned restraint, how to hold onto that power without wastage, and how to avoid being burnt from holding the flame so close. Otherwise, Grandpa told me, my job was to relax.

At the same time, not quite half the world away, your Gramps came to exactly the same conclusion. As the winner of the recent tournament of warriors, he knew he was the strongest person in the land - no foreign-trained upstart could stand up to the likes of him. He told the bards to spread the word, that Cell better watch out - Mr. Satan was on his way. The land rejoiced; they had their hero, and the world’s best no less. They were saved! The rest of the week filled itself with celebration, as though the match were already won, and the people now waited with excitement for the downfall of the alien invader.

Finally, the day and time was upon us. We travelled into the wilderness where the Games would be, and were greeted on our arrival by Cell itself. Our not-so-merry band was composed of your Grandpa, most of your uncles, the grown-up Trunks… and little me. The up-jumped squire to the warriors I lined up with, dwarfed by the simple yet bulky armour I’d asked your Uncle Piccoyo for. Even Sixteen, now repaired, came to help us in honour of his fallen friends and the mercy your Uncle Krillin had shown them; Krillin’s hope the Dark Wizard’s creations could be redeemed and freed of the curse was well-placed indeed. We were an imposing sight for any warrior to face off against to be sure, but Cell only had eyes for your Grandpa.

Unlike the rest of the land, now readying to feast and celebrate the sure result, I was nervous. And still Grandpa said not to worry, all was in hand, yet he would tell no one the secret.

Of course, we weren’t the only challengers. How could we forget the Greatest Warrior in All the Land, Mr. Satan? The first time I ever met your Gramps he called me an idiot for not knowing who he was. How’s that for a first impression? We were even called reckless by the bards accompanying him, and they composed rude songs calling us weak. We’d get caught in the crossfire if we weren’t careful, we were told. On your heads be it.

We thought the same of them in return - merely fools and jesters. Mr. Satan knew no Words, he would be powerless in this fight and unable to defend his followers. Still, as much as we wanted to protect them from harm, we knew any life the Chimera stole would be restored if Grandpa could win, so we did not expend any effort shooing them away.

Your Gramps, great showboat that he is, insisted on trying his luck against Cell first. The bards began their song, the Champion faced the monster down and roared… yet Cell simply breathed on him to throw him from the ring in seconds. Truly a court jester against a dragon. The bards were in shock. Surely this was a trick? A cheat? Your Gramps claimed the same, stammering his way through explaining witchcraft and explosion magics, but he wasn’t as sure of the deception as he asserted.

Entertainment over, Grandpa and Cell readied themselves. Both were razor sharp - excited even - the Golden Knight of Legend trained onto the Chimera and ready to give his all. I felt it again then, that sense of hope he can bring out in you. He did in the land of Namek and he would do it again here for all of us. I now knew why Trunks believed in Grandpa so much without even meeting him - his mom and myself in the future would have spoken of him highly, weaving stories of his great battles and victories in a such a way you couldn’t help but feel your heart rise.

One breath. The land stilled - and the clash began.

No one would believe the intensity of the battle from the stories and songs handed down from bard to bard. Though their tales were never an exaggeration. The speed, the force, the damage. The noise. Cell and your Grandpa’s Words brought forth great power, shattering the ring and wilderness all around. The display was beyond most people's’ limited imaginations, and nobody had ever seen the likes of it. But your Gramps had. He’d felt this kind of strength once before, many years ago, from the man who killed his master and left him for dead with just one Word. It was a type of magic, yes, but an ancient and visceral one, and he feared it greatly. He was quickly learning that the hope of the land was misplaced in him and he, like the rest of us, would have to put his hope in Grandpa too.

Watching their fight from a safe distance, your uncles gaped then whooped at the turn of events. They said they’d lost track of Grandpa in the fray, that he was awe-inspiring, truly the warrior of legend. Were they joking?, I thought. I could follow easily, and what was more I could tell Grandpa wasn’t matching Cell. He had to be holding back, maybe to surprise it. But that didn’t make sense, why would he do that with so much at stake? Grandpa was inflicting damage but he looked to be tiring, whilst the Chimera used its blood magic to heal injury after injury.

One giant blast from Cell in defence and the ring was blown clean away, and whatever pretence of rules the Games had fled in the wake of the explosion. This was truly a fight to the death for both warriors.

Cell taunted your Grandpa as they broke apart, and we willed him to fight harder. Why wouldn’t he? It didn’t make sense to me. Grandpa was the strongest, the Golden Knight, and I was only a boy, and yet I was sure I could put up more of a fight that he was now –

Grandpa gave up.

He turned his back on the Chimera to return to us. I couldn’t believe it, no one could. Grandpa had been fighting his very best to no avail. I had overestimated him. If he couldn’t win we were doomed. Yet, he was still smiling as though his loss was expected. He then let us all in on his trump card.

Me.

I was to defeat the Chimera. My hunch was right. I was only a boy yet my heritage and exposure to battle from such a young age had honed me. I had surpassed my father. Though there was one problem, one misstep in Grandpa’s secret plan. In my desire to please him, I’d never truly told him how much I hated fighting.

In principle I was willing to. I had repeated as much to Grandpa over the three years, and the me in the future had fought monsters, too. But like Trunks, that Son Gohan had grown to be a different man to the man I would become. He never became a scholar - there was nowhere left to learn. He never got to catch criminals for fun nor have a chance to be the luckiest husband. And the very worst of all? He never got to be a Dad to the the most amazing little girl in all the world. I’m sure, as much as he cared for the Earth, the Son Gohan of the future did not want to be fighting as he died, and I knew at that young age I did not want that either.

Even so, despite my reluctance in that moment, Grandpa was right. If I wanted to grow up to be the scholar I always dreamed I could be, this time, just this once, I needed to try and fight.

To everyone’s shock I agreed and stepped forward to take up the hero’s mantle from Grandpa. He even told me to enjoy myself. The Chimera laughed and laughed, anticipating a second round of entertainment. A snack before its main course and a chance to catch its breath. If the Golden Knight wanted to sacrifice his boy in vain that was his choice. It approached, completely recovered, and launched into its terrible onslaught.

The bards would tell tales of Cell’s overwhelming power, how the poor boy would be tossed around like a ragdoll and they had averted their eyes from the sheer cruelty of it all. They couldn’t see the truth; that blow for blow I was withstanding Cell better than Grandpa ever had. It landed some heavy hits and Words for sure, and even Uncle Piccoyo believed I was on the ropes, scolding your Grandpa. Yet smash after smash I stood up again and again, barely understanding how I could be so resilient. Slowly, your uncles came to realise that Grandpa was right. I was the only one who had a chance, I really was a secret weapon. But not everything was going to plan.

For the first time, I was wrestling with a new fear - not in the same way as before, when I was scared for myself or my family and friends when fighting tooth and nail for our lives. This time I feared what I could do. I knew I could end this miserable creature’s life easily enough. It had killed many people and wanted to kill more. I could stop that. But was it right for me to pass such a judgement? Wouldn’t that make me just as bad? I looked to my uncles on the hill for guidance. Trunks would have killed it without hesitation, and he was a good man. But Uncle Krillin had stayed his hand against the monsters, believing they could be reasoned with. The Chimera was also created by the Dark Wizard; maybe it could come to its senses? And maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to be a killer. My self-doubt stopped me from being as strong as I could be; I became slower, unresponsive. The tendrils of indecision creeped in.

I could not fight back.

My lack of enthusiasm frustrated Cell to no end. It wanted to fight me at full strength to humiliate your Grandpa, and to do so it realised it had to provoke me. It decided to torture me physically. What the bards say is true. Burning and branding me with his Words, fracturing bones with each strike and forcing dislocations as he squeezed me; aiming in such a way as to maximise my pain without killing me. Doing that to anyone, let alone a child, is immeasurably cruel. Cell hoped to reignite the flame of the Golden Knight I had tempered those past days. But its efforts were all in vain.

Still I could not fight back.

Failing to bring forth the rage it wanted from me, it turned it’s attention to your Grandpa and Uncles, forcing them to fight for their lives against magic creatures of its own devising. The warriors struggled, close to death at times, fighting the replicants and Cell itself where I could not. Sixteen was all but destroyed in the fray, throwing his life away trying to protect us all. This horrid creature was going to kill everyone and yet, even as I willed it…

Still I could not fight back.

Hope was dwindling, the light fading.

Then came the greatest surprise. Your Gramps, still clinging to the sidelines in a show of defiance as the Champion of the People he would prove himself to be, did one of the bravest things I have ever seen to this day. Knowing in his hearts of hearts that these ‘tricks’ were real and truly understanding the mortal danger he was in, he approached what was left of the battlefield to bring me a dying Sixteen. The gentle giant had fought alongside us against orders, the faith Uncle Krillin had placed in him and his friends encouraging him to see the good in the world. And now he wanted to speak his last words to me.

Sixteen told me he understood. I was gentle, I valued life and didn’t want to hurt anybody no matter their actions. But our words don’t always work and sometimes, just sometimes, we have to go against our own rules to stand up for what is right. It is because I valued life that I must protect it.

And for that sentiment, Cell killed him.

Cell’s final act of cruelty against its own brother pushed me over the edge. My resolve finally solidified, and the Golden Knight I had grown so used to as a power within me raged with fuel once again. I broke my limits, strength more than doubling in an instant, my Words now echoing around the sky like thunder to the lightning weaving new armour around me. In moments I destroyed the Chimera’s familiars, saving your Grandpa and uncles.

For the first time, Cell was afraid; for the first time it ;knew; I could kill it.

…Sometimes, Pan, small people have big feelings. They’re hard to explain if you’ve never had them before but you feel them just as much as any grown-up can. I was barely ten years old and I had an angry feeling, more angry than I’d ever felt before. It clawed at my face and boiled inside, made an itch I had to scratch until something bled. The calm control over the Golden Knight I’d gained with Grandpa the week before had slipped; I was taken over by it, drunk on my own power. I had hated Cell with all my heart for what it had done from the start, but now I let myself feel it, not caring if that was right or wrong to do. I wanted Cell to feel the same pain as all those people it had killed. I wanted Cell to pay.

Pursuing that desire was the worst thing I could have done. It may be hard to put aside how terrible and wicked someone is, but don’t chase what I did then, Pan. Always be quick, without passion for blood. In wanting my own revenge on Cell I let my new strength and huge feelings cloud my judgement. They fueled me, yes, but the power it gives is not easy to stay or wrestle. It can - and will - consume you, as it nearly did me.

That day I toyed with Cell using my new-found strength in the same way it had toyed with me, ignoring the calls of your uncles to come to my senses in favour of the bloodrush in my ears. Why would I listen? I was finally enjoying this fight. Isn’t that what your Grandpa had told me to do? But by not heeding their warnings I gave Cell time to think - to plan. One push away from me and it had the space and time to breathe and speak a deadly Word, an explosion I would never have been able to defend against. Grandpa, still tired from his struggles but knowing he could help, rushed in. And in doing so, Grandpa died.

The world stopped for me. In that one blast your Grandpa had sacrificed himself to save us all - to stop our land falling to the same fate as the old land of the Namekians. Because I did not want to control my emotions I had killed the Golden Knight of Legend. Even worse, Cell lived, coming back stronger still and now enraged, ready to end the world without hesitation.

Grandpa had been wrong to place his faith in me. For a moment I had had the upper hand, before losing it through folly. Now no one could stop it. The situation was hopeless.

With the fight taken out of me I felt every break and bruise, my left arm dislocated and damaged so badly it hung lifeless at my side. In an instant my resolve had shattered into pieces and I could barely muster the energy to stand, the magic of the Golden Knight now dulled again. It was too late. Cell was to have the last Word. The world shook, and I could do no more.

Now, in stories of monsters and knights and dragons, when all hope is lost, there comes a voice on the wind to help the hero, to tell them what they need to hear. Like in those fairy stories I had been sent to sleep with, it was then I heard a voice - your Grandpa Goku’s voice - speaking to me from beyond the veil. He told me not to give up, that I still had the strength - I just had to find it in myself. I tried to apologise but he shushed me. After everything he still believed in me, he still had hope in his little boy. All I had to do was have that same faith in myself. I chose to believe him one last time, and legs shaking, squared up towards the Chimera.

Cell’s final deadly Word howled towards me like a nightmare yet with one steadying breath, one hand outstretched and Grandpa’s unwavering faith I dug deep. And yelled. And matched it.

Our struggle was like two great dragons, blue and yellow, claws locked in a stalemate, their clash carving great canyons in the landscape around us. Whichever of us faltered first would be instantly overcome in the wake of the others’ Word, their cause lost. There was no going back. Your uncles fled for their own safety and I was left completely alone to face this creature, seemingly nothing but the roar of our voices for comfort. Barely a ten year-old boy, the fate of the realm on my shoulders. But I wasn’t alone, not really. Your Grandpa was with me, urging me on. Dig deep Gohan, he said, just let it go!

Your Uncle Vegeta could see my resolve returning and thought fast, using the last of his voice to scream at Cell, dividing its attention. It worked! Cell’s focus slipped. One chance. I pushed as hard as I could, the final charge, and a power I would never have otherwise believed myself capable of burst forward as I screamed.

I felt its last attempts at resistance reverberate back - less the wall it had been and now a weak struggle, my words a jet of sand, of glass shards, forcing their way between its fingers, into and through it. One great dragon swallowed the other whole and it was done. The evil was vanquished, and everything turned to silence and stillness once again. The land was safe.

Cell was gone.

In that moment I was too exhausted to think beyond an overwhelming sense of relief, the magic dispelled and I was left numb. Your uncles surrounded and congratulated me, helping me from the pile I’d collapsed into to take me home to rest. We’d forgotten all about the bards, cowering away unable to find their own words to explain the cataclysm they’d born witness to. Luckily, someone was on hand with their own story to spin and embellishments to boot. Your Gramps would take the credit for the win and become the most lauded man in the land. He may have told a lie, but it was a good lie; he saved me, your Grandma and Uncle Goten from a lot of trouble. Besides, his claim to heroism wasn’t a complete falsehood. He had brought me Sixteen’s wise words that allowed me to tap into a strength I never knew I had. For that, and for many, many brave deeds thereafter, your Gramps is every part the hero he’s praised to be; just not in the ways you’ve been taught.

We prepared to send Trunks off the next day, our mood sombre for the loss of your Grandpa. Unlike the Chimera’s other victims he would choose not return to us for some time, travelling beyond the veil to find new masters and secrets to bring home one day, trusting his mere absence would keep the peace - and it would, for a time. As Trunks had learnt from my counterpart, I had a learnt a lot from him in turn about what a knight could be. We would meet again, and we would come to learn his experience with us allowed him both to defeat 17 and 18 in his own time and prevent Cell from ever appearing. Seventeen and Eighteen here would awake with all of Cell’s victims, their curse now lifted and freedom granted, and would fight alongside us to defend the land in future battles, their help indispensable. Uncle Krillin’s decision to follow his gut and stay his hand that day was the right one in the end.

For many years after I’d believe my father not just spoke to me but returned in that final moment, both of us working in tandem to deliver that final blow. Of course in reality the overwhelming strength was all from me - I just needed to find the balance in myself, absorb my father’s words and have conviction, and like the boy from the future all those years ago, have hope we’d prevail.

There once was a boy called Son Gohan, and he defeated Cell.

Maybe you find it a little galling that I sent my daughter to sleep with stories like this. In truth Pan would have heard this story and others in a fragmented fashion as we adults spoke, especially given who both her grandfathers are, so having a coherent (if slightly fantastical version) was helpful for context.

For her to know the truth of the struggle was important to me, even if it meant she had to keep a big secret. She had to know the magnitude of the work we did and understand the danger, lest she romanticise the games. After the harrowing childhood I had starting at four years old I never wanted anyone to go through the same. My little brother would not escape my fate, dragged into a conflict and quite literally told at not even seven years of age he was the last line of defense for the world, possibly even the Universe. I never wanted Pan to see the horrors I and Goten hold. But I am not a fool, and since she showed interest in fighting we let her learn, encouraging and supporting her beyond mere drilling so she could keep her head should peacetime break. I kept her away from serious conflict until she was fifteen. That’s all I could manage.

Sometimes we’re thrust into situations we’d rather not be in, forcing us to act against our better nature. In those moments the greatest challenge is not the monster we’re facing but the battle within ourselves, our fear of losing our sense of self in the ensuing mess. Though I can assure you, if in those times we can hold onto hope - whether that is hope in the truth of a story we were told long ago, hope that others can do good and be good despite what circumstances say, hope in the potential of those closest to us even as their doubts rage and even gain a glimmer of hope in ourselves - well, like Bulma in the future, we can do what we believe right now to be impossible.

What I did as a child may have been impressive. It may be beyond what many full Earthlings would ever be capable of, and it may have all worked out in the end. But it is not right to hide behind the courage of children. No one who learns any of the techniques in the rest of this book is under any obligation to lay their life on the line should the world be in danger. I would however like some people to make that choice, a real choice that neither I nor my brother and daughter ever had, and as a consequence I hope my grandchildren, should I ever have any, will have that same free choice, too.

It is my hope now that, despite the difficulty and despite how impossible it sounds, you will now show that same courage to learn, to step up, to rely on your own strength - and defend the Earth.

Myself, Little Trunks and Big Trunks on the day of the latter’s departure after the Cell Games. Three pictures were taken - one for me (the image above), one for Little Trunks as a surprise for when he was older, and the third for Big Trunks, though he said he’d pass it to his mom. Because of that, I gave him the one where he had the biggest smile.

This chapter is dedicated to Android Sixteen.

“It is because we value life that we must protect it.”

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#dragon ball #dbz #cell #gohan #dbs #groundbreakingscienceupdate #((some lines have been taken from the English adaptation of the manga and the original English dub))#((a huge thank you to jaalamaradav for betaing this))#((section also dedicated to Pipey in your honour :') ))

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