#beliefs but because he thought it would help him make the galaxy a better place. there’s always been another goal first and foremost

[machinatings]

Really did not think I had super strong takes on Star Wars anymore but I do feel so strongly that the inquisitors makes the general world building Worse. Part of why the empire was so effective in (almost) completely wiping out the jedi in only 20 years wasnt just that they killed them all, it’s that they killed the idea that using the force was even strictly possible. In the OT the word “sith” is never even used- people barely understand the nature of the force, let alone enough to distinguish between a jedi and a sith. By the time of ANH, the idea of being a force user, any kind, should feel desperately lonely, a product of a bygone era. It makes Palpatine, as one of the only people still alive that understands the force, that much more powerful. The idea that he would go out of his way to train a bunch of people in the darkside really undermines that in my opinion.

[melodicbreeze]

What's your favorite Venti lore/references?

For me it's him guiding souls after death and being connected to istaroth. Also the whole prodigal son thing, What do you think it means for him? (Hope you don't mind getting asks like this, i couldn't help but be curious)

CRACKS MY KNUCKLES. ALRIGHT FOLKS, BUCKLE UP.

DEATH

First off, I absolutely love his ties to death! Usually in media, when gods deal in the realm of death, they're all dark and dreary and either sad or evil. Venti, on the other hand, embodies more of the aspects of comfort. A final rest after a life well lived. Barbatos is said to guide the souls of the deceased to the afterlife on a wind, yes, but he also lets them live on through song! There is a belief that someone isn't truly dead until their name has been spoken for the last time, and Venti places importance of using names in his songs, as seen in the manga when he asks Venessa if he can use her name in a song.

There's also how heavily anemo ties into the concept of loss (gestures at the dead friend gives you an anemo vision joke), and the anemoi wind spirits from myths were also once a guide of souls to the afterlife.

There's also the post I made last night- "Not death, but his brother, sleep" (shout out to The Ra.ven Cycle book series). In Greek mythologies, which Venti does have a few ties to, Death and Sleep are brothers- and we all know of Venti's ties to sleep. Aside from his times of sleep, he was also seen singing the guards to sleep when going to free Venessa.

ANYWAY all this to say I think along with the wind, freedom, and hope, death is one domain that Venti falls into. (Which just makes him and Hu Tao even better buddies).

ISTAROTH

This is where I can more theory crafting rather than reflective. We've learned the the Thousand Winds were the Thousand Winds of Time. Now, I do not think that Venti is a son in the traditional sense- rather, I think that the Thousand Winds of Time form one being- Istaroth.

Venti also called himself a single breeze/wind, so I believe he was one of the thousand that made up Istaroth, only to rise up above the others in terms of power during the rebellion against Decarabian, and then becoming a god in his own right.

Do I have much evidence for this? Not at all! It's just my thoughts.

(Also, apparently prodigal means wastefully extravagant, which while I admit my first thought is his indulgences in drink and revelry, also make me wonder if it is perhaps that he has made Mondstadt into a home where people can act as such if they please- free to do so.)

OTHER THOUGHTS

One of my favourite bits of lore comes from the Wings of Shimmering Galaxy lore. It's spoken from the perspective of Venti post Archon War! It goes to say,

"For he knew that someone must heal the hurts of the world, and thus someone needed to find a way to communicate with them."

From Zhongli's character stories, we know that Venti went to visit, bringing a gift of wine- and that that led to the 7 all meeting together regularly. He is a bard, and the god of the wind- music and poetry flow like the wind, after all. Of course he would facilitate communication! HOWEVER, this didn't work for a long, long time. In fact, the glider lore continues,

"But the poet knew this would happen. (...) Still, the poet did not give up, though not because he believed or anything. This was just the way he was."

Despite being called the god of Hope by Neuvilette, Venti didn't have any hope. He just... didn't know what else to do.

Anyway, I should end it here, before I ramble on for many more paragraphs about all the things I love about Venti.

[fasterthanmydemons]

[ Speedster of the Galaxy - should have written this in the last submission but mun is forgetful oop- anyway it’s obvious when Pietro’s in this verse because he’s. In space lol. ]

Mantis blinked, frowning when Pietro said he thought she was prettier. She felt bad for the Terran speedster; it was his first time in space, with no preparation whatsoever, so naturally his biology would be a bit messy. Of course he would be confused and disoriented, speaking nonsense, and Mantis’ expression turned sympathetic, her hand gently patting Pietro’s shoulder. Feeling quite a bit surprised when he said being pretty wasn’t a competition. Mantis knew that. She didn’t think Gamora was pretty in a competitive kind of way, but in a ‘no wonder Quill forgot how to speak when he first saw her’ kind of way. The way Mantis saw it, Gamora was precisely the reason why beauty shouldn’t be a competition.

Then he started talking about Vision, and… Mantis could tell Pietro did not like him. He was unable to see anyone other than Ultron, who wanted to make things better. Oh, anyone who said they could make things 'better’ or 'nicer’ or 'perfect’ - especially that last one - was someone the Guardians couldn’t trust. Mantis knew it well. Life on Ego’s planet seemed so absolutely perfect. To say that perfection was a red flag would be an understatement. “He wanted to destroy all of your planet?” Mantis covered her mouth with a hand as Pietro described his near-death experience. Stars, how was he even alive? She could feel the panic growing in the air between the two of them, and she knew it wasn’t coming from her. When he lifted his right hand, Mantis gently took it, holding it between her hands as she tried not to let his agitated state worsen. “Please don’t yell, it’s–” A wince twisted her features as she felt a sharp pain in her own right hand. His anger and fear flooding through her like a riptide.

When he apologized and his eyes fell, Mantis just felt sad. How long had he been holding all of this in? “It’s okay…” She softly rubbed his palm and the back of his hand with her thumbs, ignoring the way her own hand hurt. “Have you ever told your sister about this?” Maybe Pietro refused to tell Wanda because he didn’t want to worry her, or because he knew she was in love with Vision. But clearly Pietro didn’t feel listened to, although Mantis didn’t think Wanda or the Avengers were to blame; perhaps Pietro struggled with communication. “You’re frustrated… You feel as though you try to understand the perspective of others yet no one ever tries to understand yours. But is that how things are or just how you feel?” Mantis drew little circles on his hand with her thumbs, tracing small imaginary planets. “I don’t think your sister started dating him in order to upset you. I’m sure she was terrified of losing you when you were so hurt. She probably was… conflicted when she realized she had feelings for him. But did Vision ever hurt you? Vision himself, I mean. I think you should judge his actions, not Ultron’s. In any case, you are far away from him now.”

She gave him a reassuring smile before letting go of his hand. She thought about using her powers to help him calm down, but she had already altered his mind a bit so he wouldn’t have nightmares the next time he tried to sleep. From the way he started recalling his painful memories and getting agitated, Mantis could confirm her belief about Pietro’s system being altered in space, distorting his idea of beauty along with everything else. When Pietro grinned as she offered him the soup, Mantis momentarily thought he was doing it because it was so unhelpful compared to his problems it was funny. But when he thanked her, she felt her shoulders relax and fall back into place. She gave him space to eat, looking out the window and wondering why he had grinned like that. Maybe it was the idea of eating, given how hungry he said he was all the time.

“We will have to make sure we get extra food for you, then. The good thing about space is that it’s never too early or too late to eat. You can eat anytime.” Her antennae twitched with excitement when she spotted a faraway comet, her eyes widening. “Look!” Pointing with her finger, Mantis stepped closer to the window; the light reflected in her pitch black eyes, and she just beamed at the small celestial body. “One time, Peter tried to pilot and watch comets at the same time, because there were so many of them. But he was able to focus when he had to maneuver the ship to dodge them all. The way we all screamed… You wouldn’t believe it. Groot and Drax loved it. I loved it, too. I thought it was a fun ride.”

__________

{ LOL, it’s perfectly okay, my tag system is a mess anyway. I create all these very nice tags in a nice organized system... and then proceed to forget to actually put them on posts. XD Also omg Mantissss... Oh he thinks I’m pretty, the poor guy’s biology is messed up. OMG, tiny bug girl please love yourself, lol. I get where she’s coming from though, and it’s super sad that she can’t see herself for the adorable bean that she is. }

Mantis... really seemed to not like compliments, or eve positive references to herself. That was throwing Pietro for a loop. It was part of how he functioned socially that he should very often try to raise others up out of whatever might be bothering them. There had been a lot of downtrodden people in Sokovia. The war had taken its toll and people were hungry, tired, sick, frustrated, sad, angry, you name it. It made Pietro feel good to offer kind words, encouraging ones, or simple compliments and watch people’s faces light up with just a little  bit of hope or positivity. But with Mantis... it seemed to have the opposite effect. He made a mental note to try and stop doing that around her, since he didn’t want to upset her, but that was hard do when she was so adorable and helpful to him.

Pietro tried to shake off how uncomfortable talking about Ultron had made him. In his therapy sessions while with the Avengers, he’d always refused to talk about Ultron. He hadn’t wanted those sessions at all, but they were required. Required was another word for forced. “Not the planet itself, but just all the people on it. The humans. For some reason he thought a world full of robots would be better? I don’t know, it was such a stupid idea. He said that when the dust settled, the only thing living in the world would be metal.” It was ingrained on his brain, not only the bot’s words but the sound of his voice. 

“Sorry! I’m... I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to yell. Please do not be scared...” he said when he saw her wincing. What kind of a jerk was he, yelling like an idiot in front of this poor person? “Sorry, I won’t... talk about that anymore...” he said, embarrassed and ashamed. He fell silent when she told him it was okay and started rubbing his hand. It... felt nice, having someone touch his hand kindly like that. He usually didn’t let anyone touch it, and it wasn’t like Mantis had asked first, but somehow he was perfectly okay with it. He let her read him however she wanted, admitting to himself that she was spot on with her accuracy. Was that the way of things, or was he maybe getting to emotional about it? When she asked if he’d told Wanda about his hand, his eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, no, I never have. I never will. Is very... Is kindof... The reason why is bad like this... It was not her fault, but she would think it was. So I can’t tell her because I don’t want her to blame herself.”

And out it came, the story of his right hand and arm. He never felt free to tell it to anyone before, but since Mantis had asked if he’d told Wanda, he felt like he should explain why he’d keep something like this from his own twin. “When our parents were killed, we hid under a bed while our apartment building collapsed around us. We were ten, so we were pretty small, but over time the bed kindof got crushed, so it was very tiny space for us both. And Wanda, she was sick as a baby, so she has trouble with her lungs sometimes. Well, she did when we were little, not so much anymore. I guess she grew out of it. Anyway, there was lot of dust in the air from the building getting crushed all around us, so I held onto Wanda to make sure she had enough space to breathe and I let her breathe through my shirt so she wouldn’t be breathing all that nasty dust. But... we weren’t found for two days, and holding Wanda in that tiny space... she was kindof leaning on my arm and it lost feeling for a long time. When we were found, my arm was all purple and it felt funny for a long while afterward. That’s when it first started hurting and everything and sometimes it would shake by itself.”

“So then we were in an orphanage and then foster homes and none of that worked out, so we ran away and were living on the street for a while. We needed to eat, so I would steal things for us and for Wanda especially because she was small and scared and not as fast as me. One time I didn’t do such a great job and I got caught by a guy who stuck a pocket knife through my hand, pinning it to the table to try and keep me there for the police, but I ran away with the knife still in my hand.” He chuckled, as if it were funny and not the terrible hardship that it was. “We didn’t have money for the doctor, so Wanda did what she could for my hand, but it got infected and I almost lost these fingers. They swelled up and turns all funny colors.” He pointed to his thumb and index finger.

“And then when Hydra experimented on us, they thought it was a great idea to stick the I.V. port in this same hand, like... really? You see is bad, why would you put it there? But they did, and I got another infection. They had to cut part of my skin and whatever else out so it could heal. By then the shaking and the numbness was pretty bad, but I hid it from Wanda still. Then I told you Ultron shot through this same hand. Is really bad now, sometimes I can’t grip things with it because it just seizes up on me.” He sighed. “Anyway... Wanda would blame herself for all of it. For leaning on my arm when we were ten, for me getting stabbed while stealing food for her when we were fourteen, for what Hydra did because it was her decision for us to join their experiments, and then for Ultron because she kept saying that was her fault too. I just... don’t want to lay all of that on her. She has enough problems. Is my own thing to deal with, so I deal. Is just part of life for me,” he said, shrugging again like it was something easy and trivial when it was anything but.

“No, Vision has never hurt me...” Pietro admitted. “And I don’t think he would, as he is now. But I worry that there is something in his mind that will someday just click like a flipped switch and suddenly he will be Ultron. I don’t really understand robotics or digital things or brain things, so I don’t know how any of that works, but like I said, I saw Ultron uploading his mind into Vision’s through some kindof neural link. So... it’s in there somewhere, right? Ultron’s mind? What scares me is... when will it come out and what will it make Vision do when it does?” To Pietro, it was a very real thing that not only might happen, but definitely would someday.

The soup was actually really good, and Pietro was grateful for it. He sat down nearby to indulge himself in it. “Then I think I am going to like space very much if it lets me eat whenever I want,” he said with a little smirk. When she pointed out a comet, Pietro set the bowl of soup temporarily aside and jumped up excitedly to see it, peering out the window. “Oh, wow! That’s so cool!” he exclaimed, a big, boyish grin on his face. Listening to her story about Quill’s piloting, Pietro chuckled. “Hey, is part of life, you know? Even when things go wrong, you have to laugh and roll with it. Find the good and the fun where you can, yeah? It sounds like that was a lot of fun,” he agreed with her.

[geraldtarrant]

Our fandom is so lucky that you stumbled onto these books! Loving the reviews. 

Agree about the mix of contemporary/sci-fi concepts and fantasy being cool. Also sadly agree on the stuff about women, although in fairness none of this stood out to me when I was a teen reading these books in the late 90s. I’ve also recently watched some Star Trek DS9 and oh boy, I don’t remember that era as being quite that sexist. In hindsight lots of things haven’t aged well so I chalk this stuff up under “acceptable in the 90s.”

Yeah the Church’s plan stops making sense once you start thinking about it. There’s the whole ‘either there’s a god already there or we’ll create one' stance to begin with. I always figured that was a way to appease both the religious and non-religious audience of these books. But don’t those two Church approaches clash? If there already is a god then wouldn’t he know if there are humans settled anywhere in the galaxy just by virtue of being, you know, God? Or if his power only covers part of the universe then would he suddenly hear some humans out of his range if they start praying a whole lot, like a religious broadcast of Seti@Home? But okay let’s say he’s out there - wouldn’t he have an issue if Ernans also create their own homemade god via the fae? Because most gods tend to not go in for competition. And besides, would God help tame the fae? He didn’t do anything to fix the environmental apocalypse on future Earth so why would he interfere with human-made problems on other planets? Oh but he wouldn't fix it directly, it’s people believing in him that would fix it. Except then what’s with the deus ex in book 2? And why would you need god in the first place? I guess nothing speaks as universally and powerfully to people as believing in a god that they know doesn’t yet exist. 

Also the idea that this belief system calms the mind so its influence on the fae is less turbulent is pretty absurd considering that they’re creating the most judgmental god ever. I mean, thought crimes are a big part of this supposedly merciful religion. Half of Damien’s prayers are worrying that for a moment he thought about the wrong thing or was happy/worried about something he shouldn’t have been or that he’ll somehow become ‘corrupted’ via, er, it’s not exactly clear but it seem that thinking too much or too deeply also doesn’t meet with this god’s approval. Unless what one thinks about is feeling guilty over everything constantly and begging god for forgiveness. That’s all right to do in unlimited quantities.

Despite all this and even as a lifelong atheist, I ate up all the religious lore and took it at face value like with the magic system. That alone says a lot about the pull these books have on me. 

Andrys and Narilka, yeah, everything you said. I do remember my 17-year-old self being impressed that Andrys could make small talk with the Patriarch so smoothly. Teenage autistic life goals ftw. (I’m considerably less impressed by it now, for the record.)

Them meeting up in a bathhouse after - I’m pretty sure this exact fic exists on Ao3, though I can’t remember the name. The fishing rod - is that actually mentioned?? I completely forgot or I guess I glossed over it and now I can't stop laughing about the fishing shop image. 

Gearld overcoming his sexism by virtue of it being sucked out of him via alien sex is not the most profound character development arc, but points for originality. 

Amoril’s origin story is part of the short story Dominion, one of the 2 prequels. His interactions with Gerald have nice hurt/comfort vibes and are the better part of that story imo.  Do you read fic?? Because there are several out there that are so worth reading if you're bewildered by the ending and/or want more post-canon Gerald as well all do. @theobscurepotato has the perfect multi-chapter ending fix-it that’s now canon in my head, and did you know there’s even an AU ending fic by astolat! Happy to link more in the notes.

Crown of Shadows by C.S. Friedman

Genre: Sci-Fantasy Star Rating: 4,25 ⭐️

Plot: ⬜️ Plot holes big enough for a herd of elephants ⬜️ I think I’ve read this before. (Unoriginal to the max.) ⬜️ No plot, just vibes ⬜️ Enjoyable but not super memorable. ✅ You have my undivided attention. ⬜️ Mind = Blown

Characters: ⬜️ Mary Sue is in the house! ⬜️ These are cardboard cut-outs. ⬜️ Good main cast, but the rest is forgettable at best. ⬜️ Generally well written. ✅ Complex ⬜️ What do you mean characters? These feel like real people!

Personal Enjoyment: ⬜️ DNF ⬜️ Somebody free me from this hell (but also no, I won’t DNF) ⬜️ WTF did I just read??? ⬜️ I don’t like it, but I also don’t hate it. ⬜️ It’s a good book but I just never want to pick it back up. ⬜️ No strong feelings either way. ⬜️ Enjoyable read ✅ What a page turner! This is fun! ⬜️ I think I’m in love ⬜️ (new) all time favourite

World Building: ⬜️ This takes place in our world. ⬜️ Worldbuilding what worldbuilding? ⬜️ This feels like a TV set. ⬜️ Not super deep, but present. ✅ Detailed, believable. ⬜️ You bet every single ant has its own 100 page backstory!

Pacing: ⬜️ drags/is rushed in all the wrong places ⬜️ Inconsistent ⬜️ something undefinable feels off ⬜️ I don’t love it it but it fits the book perfectly. ✅ Good/no complaints ⬜️ Amazing! Could not put this down!

Writing: ⬜️ This is painful ⬜️ I’m cringing ⬜️ Not great, but not bad either. ⬜️ Neutral (Didn’t really notice.) ✅ Elegant but not overly flowery. ⬜️ So beautiful I actually stopped and noticed it. ⬜️ I’m not sure if this is just a bad translation. ⬜️ I’m not confident enough in my language skills for this language to comment on the quality of the writing.

Wow, I can't believe I've finished the series this fast! That alone says a lot about how much I liked it :) As usual, here's a bunch of rambly thoughts:

For the most part I feel like I did about the other two books - plot is fine but character work and world building take the cake. The plot was still fairly straight-forward, but I will say that it was a bit more complex with the dual plot-lines. A bit I don't think I've mentioned before that I love: due to the set up we get sorcery and sword type stuff but also tourism, instant soup, insurance companies, etc. (Did I imagine the aspirin?) The mix between modern and old timey things is great!

Unfortunately I also still feel the same about the treatment of women within the series. Sure, the argument could be made that maybe it's just Damien who's a bit misogynistic in his POV, and Gerald is just generally The Most Terrible Person ™ around, but it still doesn't sit right with me. Especially since we start the book with Gerald's lunch committing suicide. Was that weird bit about Damien's landlady necessary? Was there no other way to explain how Iezu perceive the world other than "Holy shit can you believe that middle aged lady dares to think of herself as attractive, lol what a hag" ?? But hey, Narilka is still alive! I suppose if you exist to redeem the Gerald clone you get to live. (I can't believe I forgot poor Almea in my last rant. The fridging that started it all! ...is it still fridging if the man murders her himself??)

As for the plot lines, on one hand I really, really enjoyed getting more POVs! ...maybe just not the ones we actually got xD The patriarch was probably my favourite, even if almost every second I spent inside his head was incredibly frustrating. Some of that may be due to Calesta's influence, but for the most part it's probably just him being the fantasy-pope. There's a reason I left the church xD That being said, I appreciate that he actually whole-heartedly believes what he is preaching. The thing that confuses me the most about the church is its stance on working the fae. As I understood it, it was designed to focus the fae, making it a bit less dangrous for the general population. And also providing humanity with the concentrated power of the beliefs and faith of thousands if not millions, which could eventually be used for space travel. (Or something in that vein.) Anyway, I thought it was very clear that they are still manipulating the fae, just on an enormous scale, and disapproved of private sorcery. But at times it kind of felt like the patriarch sort of forgot that (or deliberately repressed it?). All those "no, this isn't witchcraft, this is a miracle from God!" moments felt so odd because - of course its the same thing? You literally created your God yourselves by those exact same means??? Oh well, church is hypocritical, fork found in kitchen.

Andrys and Narilka I actually liked well enough, as long as they weren't on page together. Or thinking about each other. Actually, scratch that. I liked Narilka when she wasn't being compared to teacups or dolls! But then she had to fall in love with Andrys after talking to him...twice? Andrys... I mean he was there and relevant to the plot. I do feel bad for him, but there wasn't really that much to him other than (admittedly horrific) trauma and an uncanny resemblance to his great-great ....-great grandpa. And drugs to cope with all of that. Small pet peeve: the nickname Andri. WHY. You're literally just taking of one letter (and changing the other because....aesthetics??)

On to more enjoyable ramblings!!! The Damien-Gerlad dynamic in this book was just *chef's kiss* You can't just hit me with the "You changed me" speech that early in the book, I was not prepared xD The many ways in which we see the depth of their...friendship... were just sweet (especially post-hell), and such a contrast to the first book! (Well, Damien still tells us constantly how hot Gerald is, that hasn't changed at all xD My dude literally described his very platonic bestie as "aesthetic perfection". A few pages after Karril rerminds us of how very straight he is, of course.) Now maybe at this point my rose coloured shipper glasses are just glued to my face, but that moment when he tried to explain how Almea supposedly feels also slightly came across as him projecting just a bit. (Gerald is right, Almea (or the Almea-thing) has every right to be pissed, honestly she should have shown up with ghostly divorce papers. Or maybe Damien was right and she just wanted to see him jump into a volcano for a good cause, who knows.) There are some things I would have loved to see more of: - the mental link between Damien and Gerald was criminally under-used, imo. Did it change Damien physically somehow, since Gerald no longer felt cold to him? Is he now part vampire for ever xD (And dear god that whole bit about taking the Hunter into his body, whyyy xDD) - honestly I would have loved to see Gerald readjusting to being human (and being incredibly annoyed about it) a bit more. It's been 900+ years, surely there's stuff he's forgotten? I mean he spent the vast majority of his life being the stuff of nightmares! - Gerald honestly wanting and trying to redeem himself (sure, he was ready to sacrifice himself in the end, but it kind of struck me as a last minute decision. And you can't tell me being the first to kill a Iezu and saving the world didn't also appeal to his ego). But I get that that would take another 10 books, minimum

Damiens break with the church was a long time coming, and handled well, I think. Oddly enough, priest never struck me as a job that you can just quit.

I just remembered about Gerald's apprentice (Amoril?). What an idiot. I would have loved to know how he came to be the Hunter's apprentice though. Can you apply for scolarships? Anyway, trashing a library is unforgivable in my book ;)

Oh, and Hell! Hell was surprisingly meh to me, but I did appreciate the insight into how the Iezu operate (which was probable the main point of that scene anyway). Love that Damien could just reason with the literal devil. (But the concept of the Devil as a non-unified entity was actually cool though). How did it take Damien so long to understand what the mountain of dead women could possibly be. Neither he nor the reader are stupid enough not to get it. Friedman usually doesn't hold our hand and over explains in the series, why start now?? Shock factor? I doubt anyone cared enough about Sisa? Sasi? for that to work.

OK I promise I'm coming to an end soon but guys. Guys. The epilogue. The freaking epilogue. What a trip that was xDDD 1) The Wedding. Karril POV was... certainly something! We now officially know that not only women find Andrys attractive. (Take that, Damien "idk, he's probably attractive to women but also aesthetic perfection" Vryce. Did I need to know about potential Iezu sex that only benefits the (currently presenting as) male partner? No, not really. Also WTF was that scene with Andrys' ex lovers. I know we're supposed to see and rejoice in the fact that Andrys is no longer a playboy, but did we really need that "women hating women for the benefit of some hot guy" thing in here? I swear there were bits in the series where I could have sworn it was written by man (derogatory). At least Narilka remained unbothered. Presumably moisturised. Very happy and in her lane. Focused on her wedding, as she should be. She gets to live on to be compared to countless fragile things made of porcelain, whether she wants it or not. 2) Freaking Riven Forrest. I was cackling throughout that whole bit. Not only does he get to hunt and terrify people just like his father, he also runs a successful (?) fishing rod business on the side. (I know, I know, hunting supplies in general, the rods just kind of stuck out to me). The fact that the intelligent prey he looks forward to hunting the most is once again a woman (even if it is an abusive, horrible woman) tells us exactly what part the Iezu mother chose to take from the OG Hunter, huh. Which is great for Gerald, but a weird choice on her part?? But dear God the last bit. He keeps a portait of Gerald above his fireplace??? I finally completely lost it at "Here's to you, dad" xDDD 3) The "dark haired youth". Of course he survived. I was suspicious as soon as we didn't actually get to see Andrys kill him. As for the new persona - I suspected who he was, but the moment I was really sure was when Damien started describing him in loving detail. For an entire paragraph. That was half a page long. But the ending. WTF. I could have accepted Gerald's Death, but this? You're telling me after all they went through together, and after he basically just risked his life again by saying hi to Damien in the most cryptic way possible, they just...never talked again?! Nah, in my expert opinion they just met up in the next bathhouse. Also I wanted to see the guy suffer be annoyed a bit more because he can no longer Work to maintain his image. (I'd also have loved to know Geralds criteria for his new body, vain as he is. What was his thought process? "Oh no, the wonderful world of magical horse-breeding is now lost to me! Guess I'll just have to make sure that from now on I have the most majestic ponytail out there!"? Although, come on. He might be willing to risk his life for a horse.) My last words: I enjoyed this series so much more than I ever thought I would, and these idiots now live rent-free in my brain. Also how the f- are we supposed to read these books as an entirely platonic relationship? The most I'll agree to is some weird, slightly cursed QPR. But come on. COME ON. Even if they are both heterosexual (notwithstanding Damiens constant thirsting casual descriptions) they are definitely in love. Or just so deeply obsessed with, and at this point, sort of dependent on each other (Gerlad's words, not mine. sort of) that it makes little to no difference.

I know there's some prequels (?) I think I might check them out sometime.

[grey-sides]

please give us some harringrove star wars headcanons if you’re up to it! last time I checked there weren’t really any harringrove stars wars fics on ao3 so I am desperate lmao. but only if you have the time and energy for it tho because miss Rona can be exhausting :/ hope you feel better soon <3

Hi!! Thank you for the well wishes, so far I'm feeling alright, so I can definitely provide some headcanons!

So I think, for one, being a Jedi would fundamentally change Billy as a character. I know a gut reaction may be that he is just like Anakin, but I don't really think he is. The thing is, Anakin is desperate for personal control, but Billy is only desperate for control where his father is concerned.

Removing his father from the equation by being taken to the creche would probably allow him to be more balanced and connected. Hence my belief that he would be a lot more like Mace Windu and toe the line between the light and dark side making his saber purple.

An interesting fun fact about Mace is that he's the only known Jedi to practice Vaapad without falling to the dark side because of how aggressive the form is. And damn if that ain't Billy, I don't know what is. His resistance of the Mindflayer, to me, really seems similar to his ability to resist the call of the dark side.

On the other hand, I think Steve would likely practice Ataru which is the form Yoda used. It's also aggressive but not to the extent that Vaapad is. It relies on ducking and staying out of an opponent's way, which is what Steve does and it's why he doesn't plant his feet.

Like I said last night, he would probably have a blue lightsaber because it's the guardian color. He is protective and he wants to put himself in between others and someone trying to hurt them. That's classic Jedi behavior.

Steve is probably a little more like Qui-Gon in that he likely doesn't fully agree with all the tenants of the Jedi and might feel they're stuck in their ways. But I also think he tends to put single-minded focus on things and would work hard to be a "good" Jedi.

I also personally believe both of them could handle the Jedi no-attachments rule. A lot of people don't get it, but it's to be able to love without coveting. Steve at the end of S1 and in S2 isn't possessive of Nancy, no matter how much it's killing him to watch her fall out of love with him.

Billy also isn't possessive, he just doesn't want to face the repercussions of Neil's ire. So I just think, being in the same place would allow them to have a more casual relationship that wouldn't jeopardize their beliefs. And also, the Jedi don't forbid sexual relationships.

Now if they weren't Jedi? Man, oh man, Billy would make an excellent questioning Mandalorian. I can just imagine Neil forcing this onto him, forcing him to obey the religion, wear the helmet, do not question it. And Billy rebelling hard against that. Enjoying aspects of his upbringing but wanting to see the galaxy too and not live in fear (under the empire's ruling).

Steve is a little harder to pin down. I think he would (under the empire's rule) try to be a plant in the empire for the rebellion. His father is probably a high level officer in the empire so he uses his own nepotism position to help smuggle Jedi and force users away from the empire.

And I could imagine he gets in a tight spot, he's probably not going to make it out because he's been discovered when all of a sudden, a young, angry Mandalorian shows up and just destroys the droids that have been sent after him. And then they fall in love.

Can you tell I have a lot of thoughts about this? Because I do. I have a million thoughts.

[delimeful]

Snapshot: Cleanse

snapshots: a new compilation of mini-fics taking place in the WIBAR universe! this one takes place a few days after Making Adjustments!

warnings: none! Whoops, All Fluff!

-

It was a few days after the Breakfast Ceasefire that Virgil decided enough was enough.

He needed a shower. Badly.

It didn’t matter that he was on an alien ship full of alien stuff, or that showering meant temporarily ditching the comfort of his hoodie, or even that two out of three aliens would probably happily see him dead at any opportunity.

He had picked up what felt like an entire football field’s worth of dirt, mud, and other muck while him and Patton were planet-hopping, and impromptu washcloth (read: a patch torn from the back of his shirt) cleaning sessions had only done so much. They only came across clean water every so often, anyhow. Most of it couldn’t be wasted on washing.

Patton had picked up on his discomfort back then— that or the smell— but the Ampen’s idea of ‘cleaning up’ was very similar to that of chinchillas’ back home on Earth: dust baths. That’s right. More dirt.

(Yes, he’d rolled around in the dirt with his friend. Contrary to popular interstellar belief, he wasn’t a monster.)

Still, it was time to come clean. Literally and metaphorically.

Patton had spent last night cuddled up to him, which meant that he had actually gotten a full eight hours of sleep (good!) and that Roman was probably sulking around (ungood!). The sense of clarity that came with not being quite so horrendously sleep deprived only made him more aware of how dirty he was. It felt like heresy to even touch any of the numerous well-sanitized surfaces in the ship.

“Patton,” he called, once the Ampen had started doing those little antennae twitches that meant he was half-awake. “Can you show me the wash room?”

The response was a little delayed, but eventually Patton startled into full wakefulness with a little chirp-peep that reminded him of a computer startup noise.

From there, he was led down the circular halls to a square room that sort of resembled a locker room shower area, complete with drainage grates in the floor. There was a ledge along one side of the room that led up to a windowbox-like protrusion, and Virgil could see from here that it was full of soft, beige dirt.

Patton paused, visibly turning his head from Virgil to the washbox, as though measuring things out in his mind.

“That’s probably too small for you, huh?”

Virgil stopped him before he could start making plans for a human-sized sandbox. “Uh, actually, Pat, I need water to wash.”

“Oh!” Patton exclaimed, more surprised than disconcerted. “Well, water we doing over here then?”

Virgil couldn’t hide a smile, and Patton crinkle-smiled back at him before waving him over to the opposite end of the room. He pointed up, where there were little circular discs with a grid of tiny holes set into the wall. “Here you go! Roman uses these to help with his slough, or when he gets particularly rough and tumble down on planetside!”

… Great. Odds were borrowing his shower was probably going to make Roman even more homicidal towards him. Virgil decided to worry about that later. For now, he was faced with the biggest challenge of them all: figuring out how a friend’s shower knobs worked.

Surprisingly, it seemed like the panel set into the wall below each disc worked similarly to the other touchscreens he’d seen set into the control room of the ship. Unsurprisingly, they were all labeled with the written form of Common, which meant he had about zero chance of figuring it out on his own.

Patton noticed his blank stare and patted at his knee, and Virgil squatted down easily so the undersized alien could clamber onto his shoulder. He rose up, and Patton’s little claws scrambled for purchase for a moment before he caught his balance, Virgil tense with preparation to twist and catch him if he fell.

“This little icon has the symbol for on, and this is how you get it hot or cold,” he chirped, leaning forwards to point at the screen for emphasis. Virgil obligingly shifted closer, trying to commit the guidance to memory. “You’re a little squisher than Roman, so you should probably change the pressure, too.”

Once he’d shuffled around so he was sure neither of them were about to get slammed by a jet of water, he tapped the power button.

A three-note chime played as a sort of countdown, and water shot out of the disc, at what was probably the appropriate pressure to powerwash muck from under tightly-packed scales. Virgil pushed the slider down until he could put his hand under without feeling any sting from the water’s impact. Then, he cranked the temperature up until it was just short of scalding.

Patton eyed the steam curling up into the air with a concerned fluff to his feathers, but didn’t protest after seeing the small, delighted grin that Virgil made as he held his hand under.

No, this wasn’t dunking his head in cold streams, or dipping his arm in a lukewarm puddle, or the humiliating icy hose downs in captivity. This was warm water. He’d never take it for granted again.

He shrugged out of his hoodie as he walked over to the entrance. “Does this… lock?”

“Any door on the ship can be sealed,” Patton replied, and bonked his head to Virgil’s sympathetically at the shudder that information sent through him. “Nobody’s going to lock anything without your permission, though, okay?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, knowing he sounded less than convinced. “Can you guard the door, still? Just in case,” he added in English, one of the phrases he’d used a lot while they were on the run.

Patton gave him a sad look, more than aware how unsafe he still felt, but nodded firmly and dropped carefully down to the floor, taking up position just outside the door like a tiny sentry. Virgil draped his hoodie over him, and then-- checking that the others weren’t nearby to witness and freak out about it-- he gave him the world’s smallest noogie, ruffling the feathers atop his head with a knuckle.

Having preemptively twitched his antennae out of the way, Patton made one of those bird-like laughs at him, batting his hand away. “Go clean! And make sure you wash out for slippery floors!”

Virgil snorted, and carefully sealed the door behind him, trying not to think about the feeling of being stuck in a tiny square room again. He shook his head, dragging his thoughts back on track.

He had access to a warm shower, his first in literal months (...years?). He was going to stay under that spout until every bit of dirt washed down the drain.

---

Roman was midway through a session of storywriting when he heard Patton’s bright voice coming down the hall, passing by his room and chattering all the while.

His ears flicked back automatically to check in, and he frowned when he realized that he couldn’t hear Logan’s arms clicking alongside the Ampen. No, apart from Patton’s tiny tapping footsteps, there was nothing. Patton had to be talking to the Human, then, since he was the only one who ghosted around the ship silently enough to make Roman feel stalked at every corner.

Well. He’d grown tired of watching his characters make a rather vexing detour from his carefully-plotted main storyline anyhow, and he was loath to leave his smallest friend alone with a Human, regardless of how docile that Human pretended to be.

After a brief cleanup of his writing instruments, he was sweeping down the corridor to the commons after them.

Logan was already in the room when he arrived, which was surprising; even Roman had picked up on the ludicrous lengths the Human went to avoid the Ulgorian, as though Logan of all people was someone to be scared of. The nerd’s poison blood was the most “threatening” thing about him, and the Human had already shown how easily he could shake that off.

Patton was leading the Human by one hand, their size disparity as jarring and terrifying as ever. And the Human…

Roman turned his head to the side to study the scene more intently, and that in itself was strange.

Normally, Virgil was almost preternaturally aware of when he was being watched, according to Logan. It was obvious when he knew: the Human went tense and rigid, practically poised to pounce at any moment.

But now, he was trailing after Patton with a relaxed slope to his shoulders, his steps almost languid. He all but collapsed on the fluffy cushion Patton gestured to, eyes gliding shut as the Ampen climbed up after him.

Roman took a few steps into the room, and the Human cracked one eye open-- not entirely out of it, then. The mild suspicion he was regarded with was almost reassuring.

Upon closer inspection, there were physical changes, too. The human had gone from pale, almost grey-toned to having a pinkish tint to his skin. The grey-brown still clung to the hooded garment he’d draped himself in, creating an even more jarring contrast. Dirt, then? It would certainly explain the smudges he left everywhere he touched much better than some strange Human Residue.

… He wasn’t crossing Human Residue off the list of possibilities, though.

Most striking of all was his head. He had originally stalked around with a matted mess of fur, glinting oily in the light where it wasn’t dull with dirt. Now, the fur was clean and stuck out in little fluffy tufts, creating a much less menacing look overall.

Patton apparently agreed, because he’d scampered up to one shoulder and immediately buried his tiny hands into that fluff. Roman and Logan both startled, exchanging an alarmed-exasperated-fearful look, one that had become exceedingly more common after Patton came home with his new Human cellmate.

Surprisingly, all Virgil did was go even more boneless on the cushion, turning his head to better meet Patton’s touch. Patton closed his eyes happily, apparently completely fine with petting one of the most feared creatures in the galaxy.

That wasn’t surprising at all, actually.

What was surprising was the Human’s apparent tolerance for it.

“I wasn’t aware Humans enjoyed tactile ministrations,” Logan said, tapping his wristplates curiously. “Is Virgil alright?”

The Human in question turned slightly to glance at them, eyes still half-lidded. It was probably the least threatening body language Roman had seen from him since… well, ever. “Mm?”

“You’re just relaxing, aren’t you kiddo?” Patton combed through that mess of fluff some more and Virgil lost what little tension he’d regained. “Virgil spent a lot of time on guard while we were on the run planetside. He deserves all the time in the world to recuperate… and all the head scritches!”

Roman’s tail swished exasperatedly, but even he really couldn’t come up with a reason to begrudge the Human for this, not when Patton was so clearly enjoying having someone else onboard to preen. Even if that someone was a Deathworlder.

He moved to settle onto his own cushion under the guise of supervising, though for once he thought the Human might actually fall asleep in front of him.

And if he was perhaps just slightly curious about what exactly a fluffy Human felt like? Well, that was nobody’s business but his own.

[crumbledcastle28]

Chapter 1: a tug

Warnings: PTSD, sadness, depression, panic attack, mentions of violence

Author’s note: this is part one of my series called “Burning Red.” This is kind of boring because it is a set up for the main storyline, but I hope you enjoy it! Any constructive criticism and support is greatly appreciated. And if I missed a warning, please let me know!!

After everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve done, everyone you’ve hurt, it felt good to just lay low.

A mechanic on tatooine was not what you imagined, but it did the trick.

No one saw you for who you truly were, and that made you happy.

Well, except for Peli.

You came to her sick and angry and alone, and she nursed you back to health. You would be rotting in the desert if it wasn’t for her, and you felt you owed her a little something.

So, you used your “uncommon” set of abilities to help her with her mechanics in any way she needed.

This included: cooking, cleaning, repairing, negotiating, and most importantly, defending.

Peli was no dummy. She knew you had more experience in that field than she did. So she recruited you, and paid you back with whatever she had laying around. A new outfit once and a while, a warm bed, a hot dinner, and a couple of credits so you could go shopping and get out of her hair.

You couldn’t blame her. You were a hell of a lot of trouble to be around.

Constant nightmares, paranoia, and regret surrounded your aura like a fog. Any normal person wouldn’t notice, but someone like Peli could. And it pissed her off a good majority of the time.

“Stop moping and help me clean this oil off my droid,” and sentences like this one, were said pretty frequently around your place.

Was it even your place? All you did was survive. Is that enough to say you lived there instead of just survived there?

You really liked Peli. She gave you a base. A “home” of sorts, and for that you were forever indebted.

But something in you always called you back to your real home, and that scared you more than Peli’s tough love. More than you could even describe.

~~*~~

It was a pretty normal day on Tatooine. The wind howled, the sand covered everything in its wake, and the heat. You would never get used to it.

You were eating your breakfast when a ship landed on the landing pad, and you could already tell it was a doosey just by the way the left engine was sputtering.

If this ship explodes, we better get a damn good pay, you think to yourself.

The ramp starts to open and you take that as your queue to start the walk to your makeshift room. It was really a storage room, but you didn’t mind.

When you get there, you squat down to the ground behind your door and grab your apron and set of tools. You knew Peli would need some help with this ship.

You hear the ship’s ramp hit he ground and you feel it.

A tug.

Not even a tug, a lurch. It felt like a rope had been tied to your soul and pulled you back into your old self.

This was a tug you hadn’t felt in so long. So long, it almost knocks you off your feet.

I closed myself off from this, you think. I shouldn’t feel this. I don’t want to feel this.

You already feel a headache coming on from the shock and ache in your bones, so you start walking back to the landing pad to tell Peli you aren’t feeling too well.

If I get recognized, we are both dead.

You’d rather get a scolding from Peli than a scolding hot gun wound in your chest.

“Hey,” you hear Peli shout at the client, and you pick up your pace. Your heart is hammering in your chest and you feel the panic ooz through your body.

It’s been so long since you’ve felt this, but you hate how it makes you feel alive.

You finally make it to Peli and you see her speaking very loudly (she doesn’t like to use the word “yelling”) at what seems to be your client.

But this is no ordinary client. This is a Mandalorian.

A very broad Mandalorian who, no offense to Peli, could knock her out in his sleep.

You had heard legends of their kind. But worst of all, you had fought them. And damn were they good.

You hadn’t seen any since the purge. You had heard rumors of them hiding under ground, but they had always been peaceful people. You hated how they got dragged into a war.

“You damage one of my droids, you’ll pay for it,” Peli says, and you really wish she would use a more peaceful tone.

The last thing you want to do right now is fight a very impressive looking Mandalorian covered entirely in beskar while your entire body is tingling.

Is he the one who is force sensitive?

“Just keep them away from my ship” he says, and you are surprised at how well he is taking Peli’s annoyance.

“Yeah? You think that’s a good idea?” Peli responds in a tone dripping with sarcasm and you take this as your moment to try to sneak away.

This however, was unsuccessful.

“Come on y/n. Let’s take a look at his ship,” she says and the Mandalorian turns his helmet towards you.

You probably look like an absolute mess. Your chest is heaving, you are sweating, and you are not at all prepared to do any sort of repairs. You are basically in your pajamas. The Mandalorian’s gaze has you nervous enough, but this familiar feeling in your stomach has you dizzy and nauseous.

Just hold on......

You start to follow Peli to the ship while still looking at the Mandalorian. You learned very early on in your life to never take your eyes off a predator. He follows your form and you try your best to mask his incredibly strong force connection gripping your chest.

This man isn’t even trying to hide it? It’s almost as if he is reaching for me?

You make it to Peli where you finally take your eyes off of him. You can see why Peli was so mad now.

“Oof! Look at that,” she says as she scans the ship with her eyes. “You’ve got a lot of cabron scoring up top. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in a shoot out.”

Oh my God, he was in a shoot out.

This is really not good. This man could have been followed and you could be surrounded at this very moment. You were a skilled fighter, but those kinds of odds were almost unbeatable. Especially when you were still trying to hide your identity.

You are so tense you feel like you could snap. You still feel his eyes on you, and you are praying to whatever is out there that you can just stay alive. That’s the only thing you’re good at.

“Name’s Peli Motto. That’s y/n,” she says as she points to you with her wrench.

She did not just tell him your NAME.

“This is my operation. You’re not gonna find a better mechanic on the planet,” she says as she leaned in closer to the engine.

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to rotate that. You’ve got a fuel leak. Look at this, this is a mess. How did you even land?”

All you wanted to do was scream.

He is a MANDALORIAN who was just in a SHOOT OUT. He is probably being FOLLOWED and we could be dead because of ME.

“That’s gonna set you back,” she says.

She is concerned about MONEY right now?

Peli is a smart woman, but she was walking you into a trap. You didn’t want her blood on your hands. You didn’t need any more of that.

All of this is happening while you are still on the verge of a panic attack.

This Mandalorian is strong with the force. It is squeezing your lungs and your feet and your hands and your brain. All rational thinking is out the window. You had to get out of here before he manages to suffocate you.

God you hate this feeling. A few years ago you lived with this constantly. It became a part of you. Something you enjoyed. But now...

“I’ve got five hundred imperial credits,” the Mandalorian says.

Imperial credits. Great. How did he get his hands on those?

“That’s all you got? Well..” she says and looks back at you.

“What do you think,” she asks in a teasing tone.

You try to plead to her with your eyes. You are sweating beyond belief and your brain is about to explode.

She tightens her brows in confusion at your state, but continues to bargain.

“That should at least cover the hanger,” she says and you feel your jaw almost drop to the floor.

How can she not see it?

“I’ll get you your money,” the Mandalorian mumbles and you try to take a deep breath. Passing out in front of one of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy who may be here to kill you would rip off the last bit of pride you had left. If you are going down, you are going down with a fight.

“I’ve heard that before,” Peli responds and looks at you in a joking way. Like she was trying to coax you into laughing with her.

You try to chuckle back, but it just comes out in a low breath.

You sound insane.

“Just remember—,” the Mandalorian starts

“No droids. I heard ya,” Peli finishes.

“Why do you think I keep this girl around,” she says chuckling with a pat on your back.

You muster up the strength to smile and feel holes burning in your head from the Mandalorian’s gaze.

He really knows how to stare.

The Mandalorian leaves the hanger, and it takes everything in you not to pass out right there.

You thought with him leaving it would die down, but it’s only getting worse.

“Are you ok,” Peli asks and helps you lower yourself to the ground.

You are breathing frantically now and your hands are clutched to your chest.

“He has it,” you say and you know Peli knows what you mean.

She looks at you with wide eyes and you see the realization on her face.

“Oh my god.... he was in a shootout,” she says.

“Uh huh,” you breathe out. The desperate force connection is starting to fade and you feel your lungs fill up with air once more.

“He could have been followed! Or he could be here to—“

“Kill us,” you say. Peli hates when you finish her sentences, but there was no point in caring right now.

“Ok. Get inside. If I need you I will call for you,” she says and you nod, slowly getting to your feet.

You start to walk back to your room, with Peli’s arms guiding you, while taking deep breaths, but you freeze when you sense something else coming out of the ship and you snap your head to the ramp.

“What,” Peli says as she follows your gaze.

Your heart flutters. The force is slowly starting to ease its nasty grip on you.

If you didn’t sense the creature, you would miss it.

A little green baby, wrapped in what looked like a potato sack, was strolling down the ramp, looking directly at you.

“It’s him,” you say.

“He has it.”

[mayxthexforce]

He could apparently still be as poetic and dramatic in his speech as he used to be. While Voe had always been the more objective one when it came to talking, far less dramatic than ant Skywalker-Organa-Solo, if she so said so herself.

Green eyes and silver hair reflected the neon lights that decorated the many buildings surrounding them, trying to make this place seem better than it actually was, yet highlighting the cracks and dents in the structures. Cracks and dents that, in almost any other planet, would have been reclaimed by nature. But there was no nature in the smuggler's moon, the closest thing to anything natural were the sculptures meant to resemble the shape of trees, made of metal and more neon lights. This whole planet was just an eye sore.

Voe was quite tempted to ask him since when do you think I practice non-aggression? Because, truth be told, she could be really aggressive when it came to him. Always competing, always trying to one up him, seldom succeeding. It hadn't been very Jedi of her, that envy and need to prove herself better than others. But she'd been young. Nowadays, she told herself she was better. That she'd grown out of it... and yet, a satisfied smile curled the corners of her lips when he seemed more and more bothered by the lack of- well, anything. It made up for the awkwardness of falling into old patterns with HIM.

At least, until he mentioned that if she killed one of his people, she could have their clothes. Voe decided to ignore that. She'd be no better than the low lives on this disgusting ecumenopolis if she killed any of them for their clothes– besides, that was not her style.

"You really didn't bring anything to eat or buy food with?" she questioned as he asked 'what's there?', shooting him an amused, if only slightly judgemental look. "You won't find much if anything edible being sold here– unless some spice dealer has decided to innovate from injectable liquids and powders for people to inhale, to some solid, chewable form of spice."

Her smile faded as she watched his hands move up to his helmet. Voe hated this– hated the way anticipation made her artificial pulse race and her breath catch in her throat, absolutely loathed the way her eyes were drawn to the face that his motions revealed. He had changed some, years and hardships had clearly changed him. But there was no mistaking him for anybody else. Voe had known him since childhood, couldn't really remember a time when she hadn't known him, and would have recognized him from essence alone, solely through the feeling of his presence in the force, no matter what. Someone could have melted his face off with acid, and he'd still be himself in her eyes.

Oh, how she hated that...

It was a heart-gripping moment, until he opened his mouth and offered his helmet to her.

"Don't you know it's disrespectful to try to look through a woman's belongings?" she taunted.

And yet, she handed over her satchel, taking the helmet from him. She didn't have much for food, some of those protein cookies that didn't really taste like anything and weren't that filling, but kept you alive, and credits to handle the stay in a place like that: where money led everyone's lives. Voe gazed down at the visor, watching the way it reflected the nearby lights and her own face. She'd changed, too. The exhaustion of living in the moment, trying to keep the beliefs of the Jedi alive and help everyone she could in such cruel circumstances as the ones the galaxy currently dealt with, showed in her eyes.

Her eyes focused back on his face. "Seems like I owe Chewie money now..." she hummed. "I bet that this thing was stuck to your head. So, I lost."

She moved past him, taking a few steps forward before she jumped, landing on top of a nearby collapsed structure, looking at him over her shoulder. "If you think this is a waste of time, you can always chicken out," she challenged. "I thought you wanted to teach the scum of this planet a lesson." her focus diverged from him when her comm went off. Poe's voice rang out from it, informing her of where the bastards she was looking for had been last seen. "About time you got me some information, GSR. I've been moving through the wrong level" she said, a moment of silence, before she added: "Thank you."

"Anything for you, Princess Jedi."

Voe groaned, rolling her eyes as the comm returned to the inner pocket of her jacket. They had to change those stupid code names. She'd stop calling him General Spice Runner if it meant never hearing Princess Jedi again, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

"Did you hear?" she asked Kylo. "We're on the wrong level. We have to go further down. Hopefully, you're not as touchy about the heat as you are about going hungry– and fortunately for you, there are some food stalls in the lower levels. Don't expect fancy stuff, though."

'A heart.'

He turned minutely. A touch of curiosity softened the machine's din covering his voice to a night insect's susurrus. 

"We'll see which one of us still has one." 

Chromium puddles reflected black light, casting a purple kyber glow over the scaffolding: the iron of the forgotten skyslums and Ren's. 

Suppositions came from both sides. As Voe fell in step with him, there was a moment in which they shared the same plane of understanding, but when she spoke again, that plane was shattered.

Voe looked at him. He ignored her gaze, slipping through the sodden beams that jutted from a mesa of manufactured rot, and waited. 

"You would negotiate with a slaver?" he grunted. "If they take a life for a life, so will I." 

Beyond the network of ground detritus collapsed from what must once have been novel, if frail superstructures, Ren's helm piqued to distant laughter. Pirates, perhaps, or drunks. His father. It could have come from anyone. 

When Voe emerged through the oblique shafts just a few seconds after him, he finally had a proper look at her. She had always been strong, yet—

"You know, if you killed one of my 'merry band,' you could have their clothes."

She could have their life. He wouldn't force knighthood on her—he had tried—but it seemed to Ren, as they continued together, that since he had burned down Skywalker's temple, she'd lived her life episodically, from mission to mission. She didn't know what she wanted, apart from wanting things to be different. Who could lead a noble life along such vague margins? 

What he had done was done. Long ago. 

After an hour of navigating the swath of city ruins, they fell into something like their old system—moments came when Voe would steer them, Ren would cover, going so far, once, as to shield her with arm and shoulder from a din they perceived as a possible threat. However, only a large rat emerged from the dilapidated sheet metal before them. From then, they avoided each other's eyes, carrying on in silence. Eerily, yet unsurprisingly, given the unlivable miasma of decay, they'd encountered no other living thing along their path. 

Ren stopped. Tilted his head at the orange bloom coming from his estimate of five miles off. 

"This is a waste of time," he whirred. His line of vision hung onto the light ahead. "I'm flagging." 

Ren had said this when Voe scoffed at his retracted bid to fight. If his weariness showed at all, it surfaced in his tonal apathy.

"Perhaps you thrive on air, but I still need solids." His helm gestured toward the district glowing in the distance. "You're more familiar with the ecumenopolis than I. What's there?" 

He was stalling. 

"Anything in that?" Ren indicated her satchel. It looked like it had room enough for a head. 

Clearly, Voe wasn't going to give him anything, an answer, let alone her satchel—anything—until he made himself plain. 

With a disgruntled sigh, he lifted his hands until they rested on either side of the helmet. One finger brushed against a hidden inlet, and the thing hissed as though it, too, were annoyed, and then he lifted it off. 

Without it, Kylo Ren was simply a man, his exhaustion evident, making what was left of his noble features vague and dull. A hypertrophic scar ran through his right eye like a cord. The slash still looked angry, but he looked tired and somewhat resigned.

It could have been Ben standing on the incline of debris, looking daggers at her. Same nose, same cut of cheekbones, the soft jawline. His eyes were the same, only red-ringed, with a depth that told of his trials and his last ten years. The constellations of moles disrupted by nicks and jags. 

He pushed the helmet at her, his gaze never meeting Voe's, only her pouch.

"Give it to me," he said, in his voice. 

[troquantary]

Edward Cullen: That Boy Ain’t Right

So I was doing a reread of @therealvinelle 's collection of Twilight metas, as one does, and in "Edward, Denial, and a Human Girlfriend" she mentions that she doesn't believe Edward is sane. I thought, "ha, yeah, he's definitely not," and also, "but wait, what does that mean exactly, please say more about that." But since she's already inundated with asks, I've decided to use my own head-muscle and explore this idea. (TL;DR: I start out more or less organized, synthesize some points Vinelle has made across several posts (and have hopefully linked to them all where relevant but please tell me if not), touch a little on narcissism, then take a hard left into the negative effects of being a telepath.)

Just a couple things to note at the outset, though. Theses have been written already (probably) about Edward as an abuser. Edward being insane doesn't negate that at all; he's definitely an asshole and just...a disaster of a human being. (I find it more funny than anything, but YMMV.) I'm also going to try to avoid talking specifically about mental illness and how it relates (or doesn't relate) to abusive behavior -- that's territory I'm not really equipped to discuss, like at all. My starting point is "Edward has a deeply warped perception of reality," not "Edward has X disorder."

So: deeply warped perception of reality. The evidence? Goes behind a cut, because my one character trait is Verbose.

Vinelle provides a great example of it in the post linked above, which I'll just quote because she does words good: "[Edward] keeps acting like his romance with Bella is a romantic tragedy, and all the cast of Twilight are actors on a stage making it as sublime as possible." Edward's the one to pursue Bella, but he does so with the full belief, from the very beginning, that it will never last; Bella will "outgrow" him, go on her human way, and he can spend the rest of eternity brooding magnificently over his too-short romantic bliss. [Insert premature ejaculation joke.] Turning her is never an option, even though Alice, Noted Psychic, says that romancing Bella will either end with her dead (exsanguinated) or dead (vampire).

This framing, where he's a dark anti-hero in love with -- but never tainting! -- the pure maiden and eventually leaving her in a grand, tragic sacrifice to preserve her soul? It's fucking bonkers. Bella isn't a person to him in this scenario. As Vinelle points out, Bella's never really a person to him at all; he falls in love with his own mental construct, cherry-picking from what he observes of her behavior and her responses to his 20 (thousand) Questions to convince himself that she is the ideal woman.

Bella's not the only one who gets the projection/cardboard-cutout treatment. Edward sees everything and everyone through a highly particular, personalized lens. He filters his entire reality, which we all do to an extent, but the thing with Edward is that he starts with his conclusions and then only pays attention to the evidence that supports those conclusions. Often that evidence consists of what he admits in New Moon are only "surface" thoughts -- but recognizing that limitation doesn't keep him from taking those thoughts as representative of what people are. Edward then becomes absolutely convinced by his own "reasoning" and won't be swayed from what he has decided is Objectively True. It's obvious with Bella; it's also painfully obvious with Rosalie. (Vinelle explains this and brings up Edward's raging Madonna/Whore complex in the same post, so refer to that again -- she's right.)

He also catastrophizes. Everything. Bella's just vibing in her room, rereading Wuthering Heights for the 87th time? She's gonna be hit by a meteor, better sneak into her room while she sleeps. Bella's going to the beach with the filthy mundanes their human classmates? She's gonna fall in the ocean. Jasper's cannibal pals are stopping by for a visit, but know not to hunt in the area? DISASTER, DEFCON 1, ALSO FUCK YOU JASPER FOR EVEN EXISTING IN MY AND BELLA'S SPHERE YOU UNSPEAKABLE BURDEN. Edward must believe that Bella is vulnerable and in near-constant peril, to support the reality he has created in which he is the villain turned protector and maybe?? hero??? (!!!) for his beloved. So when the actual, James-shaped danger arrives, he goes berserk, snarling and flipping his shit and generally not helping the situation. His fantasy demands that Bella remain human, so instead of doing the very thing Alice, Noted Psychic, assures him will neutralize the threat (and not just a threat to Bella, either, but to Bella's family and any other human James might decide to include in the "game"), he vetoes it immediately, no discussion. Bella Must Not Turn, and he sticks to those guns despite James nearly reducing her to ground beef, despite leaving Bella catatonic with depression (but human! success!) in New Moon, despite Aro's order and his family's vote and, let's not forget, Bella's clearly and repeatedly stated desire to be a vampire. It's going to happen. But he doesn't accept it until Renesmee busts out of Bella like the Kool-Aid man and the poor girl's heart finally, unequivocally stops.

Sane people don't behave this way. I don't want to slap labels on Edward, but I can't help but note that he comes across as highly narcissistic. He's the only real person in his universe, the lone player among us NPCs. That probably has a lot to do with him being frozen in the mindset and maturity of a seventeen-year-old boy, but I think it's also just...him, on some fundamental level. His failure to connect with others and recognize them as full, independent beings with their own wants and priorities isn't like Bella's failure -- she's badly depressed. Edward is...something else, and I get the sense that his sanity has been steadily deteriorating over time. And a cursory google of narcissistic traits turns up some familiar-looking stuff. He's self-loathing, yes, but also grandiose; he hates himself for the monster he is (and hates most vampires besides Esme and Carlisle for their monstrosity, too) but still feels superior to humans, to the extent that he felt entitled to human blood and resented Carlisle for depriving him of his "proper" diet. He eventually returns to Carlisle, but he's far from content -- the beginning of Midnight Sun finds him in a state of ennui, bored and dismissive of (if not outright disgusted by) everyone around him, that has apparently persisted for years and years. He doesn't play the piano, he doesn't compose, he doesn't enjoy anything...at least until Bella comes along and then he becomes obsessed to a disturbing degree with her and his new, romantic tragedy spin on reality.

[Next-day edit: I’m not sure where else to fit this in, but the way Edward casually contemplates violence against people who have, at best, mildly annoyed him is...chilling. I have a hard time writing off his strategizing how to murder the entire Biology class as a result of bloodlust -- it’s so calculated, nothing like the blackout state of thirst Emmett describes when he encountered his own “singer,” and that is probably the default for when a vampire is extremely thirsty. But even ignoring the Biology class incident, Edward still does things like consider, with disturbing frequency, how he might grievously injure or kill Mike Newton, all because...Edward considers him his romantic rival (despite Bella barely giving the kid the time of day). He thinks about slapping Mike through a wall, which might be an amusing slapstick image, except as a vampire Edward’s actually capable of turning this boy’s skeleton to a fine powder. So it’s, y’know, kind of sick when you think about it.

But even worse than that, when Bella tells Edward about how she flirted with Jacob to get at that sweet, sweet vampire lore, Edward chuckles and then, after dropping Bella home, flippantly observes that now that the treaty’s broken, why not genocide? I’m not even kidding, it’s right there in Midnight Sun; he seriously thinks about the fact that he’d be technically justified now in wiping out the entire tribe because a teenager tried to impress a girl with a spooky story. That is fucked. Remember, Edward was there with Carlisle when the treaty was first established. He knows how remarkable it is that they even came to a truce in the first place, that it was only ever possible because Carlisle is...well, Carlisle, and that it marks a pretty significant moment in supernatural history. He doesn’t care; he doesn’t respect it, or he’d never think something like “Ha ha, if I went and killed them all, I wouldn’t even be wrong. I mean, I won’t do it, but I’m just saying, I wouldn’t be wrong.”

Again: not the thought process or behavior of a sane person. (Or a person that respects life in general -- sorry Carlisle, big L.)]

Finally, whether he's a narcissist or not, I think the fact that Edward has constant, unavoidable access to everyone's thoughts is a powerful contributing factor to his instability. He can tune out the mental noise to an extent, but he can't stop it -- so he comes to rely on it like another sense. This causes issues with disconnect and lack of empathy, of course, but there's another facet to this shit diamond: he's basically experiencing a ceaseless flow of intrusive thoughts. His narration in Midnight Sun suggests that he "hears" the words people think, can "see" what they visualize in their mind's eye, and can sense the emotional "tone" and intensity of their thoughts. Therefore, perceiving Jasper's thirst through his thoughts makes Edward more aware of his own, "doubling" the discomfort. This would be a lot to deal with even from just his immediate coven members, but Edward gets all of this pouring into his head like a firehose on a day-to-day basis because the Cullens live right alongside humans. I know Meyerpires have galaxy brains or whatever, but that's a ton to process.

Besides the compounding effect on his own thirst when he "feels" the thirst of others, Meyer never suggests that Edward has difficulty separating his own thoughts from other people's; even when he was newly turned, he recognized Carlisle's "voice" in his head as Carlisle's. That would create a whole different host of issues around identity, but it looks like Edward's escaped that particular torment. However, I can easily imagine that what he does experience is just shy of unbearable nonetheless, with an eroding effect on his sanity over decades. He can't sleep to escape it; he's on a dishwater diet and probably (like the rest of his family) experiencing a perpetual, low-grade physical discomfort due to his thirst never being fully satisfied; and he's around far more people than is the norm for vampires -- even discounting all the humans, his own coven is unusually large -- meaning more noise.

Honestly, it would be weirder if he were all there, considering.

And even though I feel like I lost a sense of structure around where I started ranting about telepathy, I've written like 1.5k words about Edward fucking Cullen and I think that's enough for one post.

[dragonflight203]

My sympathies, that must make fandom rough because so much of it is for those three. Sometimes personalities don’t click and there’s nothing wrong with that.

Ironically, that’s why Liara and Tali are my companions on this playthrough. They’re the ME1 companions I’m least attached to, so I’ve never taken them with me before (except Liara on the second half of Noveria on my first playthrough, to meet her mother). I decided to take them with me on this playthrough to see if I’d grow more attached to them.

Tali I’m mostly neutral on. Her interactions with Legion do make me judge her a bit harshly – I try to remind myself that she’s overcoming a life time of conditioning and wants to protect her people, but I still disagree with her a lot of her choices around the geth and Legion. Full respect for her commitment, though. Girl makes a choice and sees it through.

Liara I struggle with a bit more because her character changes so much from game to game. ME3 forcing her on me repeatedly doesn’t help, but I try not to hold that against her. I much prefer how ME1 lets you pick your companions for every mission, even if some have more dialogue for some.

Ah, yeah I can see where Legion would vibe for anyone with experience as an outsider. He’s on the periphery of organic races and the geth and still trudges on. A bit of sad irony there – he’s a platform with so many programs so he can operate independently, but that (and his experiences in C-Space) also put him apart from all the other geth.

Wrex and Mordin are fantastic and high up there on my faves list. They respect Shepard, but they very much have their own beliefs and agendas and are willing to operate independent of them.

I am a little leery of Wrex’s long term goals – does he ever, at any point, express regret about the Krogan attempting to conquer C-Space? He certainly regrets the outcome (the genophage) but has he ever acknowledged the Rebellions were wrong?

I can’t begrudge him wanting to cure the genophage and with the Alliance expanding frantically (and the Turian empire RIGHT THERE) it’d be hypocritical to fault him for wanting a Krogan empire, but I do worry about the Krogan’s long term goals even under Wrex’s leadership. Does he envision a Krogan empire ruling everyone, or a Krogan empire that stands beside the other species?

There’s no one better qualified to lead the Krogan, so I’m hoping that when the dust settles Wrex focuses on rebuilding. If he chooses to lead Krogan Rebellions Part 2, the galaxy will be in big trouble.

That’s part of what makes recruiting Legion so late criminal… How many players miss this conversation completely? I missed his latter conversations on my first playthough – I had completed every mission and had to look the rest up on YouTube.

Oof, dropping the Commander hurts. I assume it’s intentional – no matter what Legion says, Shepard’s decision stung and made Legion lose a bit of respect for him. So the commander is dropped.

That’s an excellent question. I presume all of Legion’s conversations still take place, but I’ve never checked myself – I can’t quite bring myself to do a run that doesn’t have a happily ever after for as many people as possible, so I’ve never not made peace between Miranda/Jack and Tali/Legion. Just temporarily picked one, then the other to see what would happen before reloading, making peace on my save, and carrying on.

We know Legion was following Shepard, but did he always plan to join him? On the derelict Reaper Legion protected Shepard, but did not try to meet him. I thought Shepard’s actions are what made Legion decide to trust him – first saving Legion, then reactivating him. Shepard took the first step to prove he was trustworthy, and that’s what made Legion (and maybe the rest of the geth) decide to take a risk in trusting him back.

(Did any of the programs have flash backs to Quarians protecting them from other Quarians, a long time ago? It’s strongly implied that some of Legion’s programs may have been the first to pick up a weapon…)

I haven’t done it myself, but yeah I think you can make peace by going renegade. Pretty sure I’ve seen that greyed out option.

For the cure – if it’s faked I agree that will blow up in folk’s face sooner than later, but given that the Reaper war will be lost sooner than later I can see why getting Krogan support now would be prioritized over that fall out. The point of not curing it is to keep Krogan number suppressible after all.

Maybe force the player through a dialogue to justify not curing the genophage, and they only succeed if they pick the right options? Or not curing is an auto fail if Wrex and Bakara are alive, but you can still succeed if Wreave is in charge.

I think a tolerance limit on the third point would do the trick – the player still has to do well, but there’s some wiggle room for less than ideal choices.

If the mass relays are causing the problem, I don’t think it would be enough to rebuild them. New technology would need to be developed.

That may be possible, however - Aethyta mentions wanting to build new mass relays and being dismissed because, as you said, everyone was comfortable with the existing mass relays. But if those are no longer a viable option, back to the drawing board.

And Illos is still there, even if Virgil is not. The research used to create the conduit may still be accessible. Even if they can’t use that exact research without replicating the problems the mass relays cause, it’s still a good start.

Will they develop it in time to avert the side effects of the mass relays? Will it stop being a priority once the memories from the war start fading? Those are different questions. But I think it's a feasible outcome.

ME1 replay thoughts, wrapping up the Citadel quests:

-The Quarians have uncovered the most mass relays. Logical enough, since they spend all their time in space

-Fist is long gone, but everyone is still talking about him like he's alive. Not sure if that's a bug or an oversight on Bioware's part

-There are a lot of humans in the Wards. I'm going to assume Shepard's in the Citadel equivalent of Chinatown for humans

-There aren't any Turians in the Wards until the Markets. Was that intentional on Bioware's part because of humanity's poor relations with them?

-Conrad's "wife" will love him hanging a picture of femshep in their living room. Uh uh. Sure.

-Starting the Keeper quest by speaking to Jahleed sure leads to different results! Had to fight Chorban. And volunteering to scan the Keepers means I missed out on the paragon points when I returned to Jahleed. :/ Worth seeing once, but not repeating in the future.

-The Keepers and the Citadel are a total blackbox. How did anyone get the idea that inhabiting this place was a good idea, much less making it the center of government? And why don't they at least research it?

-Yep, running all over the Citadel again to scan the Keepers is very aggravating.

-Just how did Septimus learn Xeltan's secrets?

-Turians only wear those hoods in the Wards, not on the Presidium. There are Turians in casual clothes on the Presidium, so I suppose the hoods are just super casual? Like hoodies?

-The Banes person who blackmails Dr. Michel is built up, and then goes absolutely nowhere. Others have said it more eloquently than me, but it is a letdown.

-Shai'ra's words are a bit disappointing to me. Insightful, I suppose, but not so poetic to be beautiful or helpful to be meaningful. I don't mind helping her, but I'm not counting the words as a reward.

-And again once she's done with me and asks me to leave, because she's everything she can for me... I'm just saying, Shepard could probably use a massage. Or someone that isn't a crewmate to talk to. This is what makes me feel used. At least invite me back for tea next time I'm on the Citadel or something.

It's like the consort wants to know everyone except Shepard.

-The Signal Source sidequest is probably the closest Mass Effect comes to foreshadowing the end of ME3, sadly enough. And a large chunk of players probably never started it, and even fewer probably finished it.

-I should have realized Tali would object to possibly resolving matters with the Signal Source peacefully. Of course she would assume it would turn on us. And it insisting that organics must destroy or control synthetics doesn't help.

Still nothing that even hints at Synthesis.

-Interesting. It's possible that Schells was involved in its creation.

The creator originally created a machine to help funnel money from gambling terminals. That machine became an AI, which created the Signal Source, and the original machine was destroyed when the creator realized it was sentient. And who did I just run into that created a device for winning at Quasar in Flux?

However, the Signal Source says the creator is currently serving time in a Turian prison, so Schells probably isn't the creator. They may or may not know each other. Or the Signal Source could have been lying about the creator, the Turian Prison, or both.

-Running all over the Citadel to check each shop is so tedious. Money will become meaningless soon enough, but right now I have very little. At least I picked up a half decent armor for Tali.

[morganas-pendragons]

It’s A Long Way Down | D.D.

gif by @bestintheparsec

I was never planning on posting something on Tumblr during No Content November, but this idea has been stuck in my head since I saw Mando 2x03 and on top of that, people kept tweeting ideas on Twitter and now this thing is born... be gentle. I’ve been hesitant to write for him since I started the show last year. I played a little bit with what we know of Din’s past for the sake of this plot. 

Without further ado, hurt/comfort galore! 2x03 spoilers!

Please let me know what you think!

tag: @earthtokace​ / @dindjarindiaries​ / @kyber-queen​ 

*** 

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” 

  “Drowning.” He replies, soft and quiet as he processes the last three days in the midst of the silence. “Almost drowning.. and thinking about how you’d cope when I was gone.” 

If I was gone. 

Maybe the world would be better off. That’s what Din thinks. That thought lingers for a split second in his mind until he sees the desperation in your aspect and how you need him to understand that this world is a better place with him in it. 

The Watch didn’t allow him attachments. They didn’t allow him to feel. He was a warrior. 

He was a warrior, and the entrance of you and The Child made his hardened heart soft. 

Din has never liked the water.

When he’d been taken in by the Mandalorians and had sworn his Creed, the one thing they had drilled into his mind for his entire childhood was that he was a warrior. Warriors knew how to fight, how to survive, how to endure. 

A Warrior who did not dare show his face. This was The Way, and the way kept him safe. 

The one thing he could never quite master as a Foundling was enduring the water. To stop the way his lungs seized, how panic overtook him, how he just stopped. 

Din didn’t like the water, and Din had never really learned how to breathe.

Then he’d met you. You - the one person he could admit to loving, to admiring from a distance because he has his Creed and you have some kind of Code you live by - and your devotion to both him and The Child has slowly eased the ache in his chest, cracked open his ribs, and taught him a different way of breathing. 

Slow, steady, easy. He’s never known life to be that way. 

***

There is no Light without the Dark. 

Through passion, I gain focus. 

You had run across Mando just after the end of the Empire. You’d seen that Death Star explode with your very own eyes and had declared that your final mission with The Rebellion, in which you bid a tearful farewell to Luke and Leia and made your way into the galaxy. 

A vast galaxy.. alone. 

You and Luke had very differing views on the Jedi Order as a whole and in that difference, you’d taken two different paths. You had followed the Code of the Grey Jedi, and Luke had taken to the Jedi Code. 

That Code had carried you through alot of darkness. 

Through knowledge, I gain power 

Through serenity, I gain strength 

The Clone War had introduced you to the concept of Mandalorians. You’d never really had the pleasure to meet one as you’d always been on different fronts a distance from the Dream Team, but you knew of them. You knew they carried a Creed the same way you did. 

What you didn’t expect was the extent in which The Mandalorian did. The two of you had met in a cantina only days after he’d taken on The Child, and his claim for knowing where to find you on Sorgan was whispers of a rogue Jedi who’d left the Rebellion to seek peace.

Peace was what you found, contrary to popular belief. Compared to being a part of the Jedi Order, being with The Mandalorian was the most peaceful thing you’d done in over a decade. 

Through victory, I gain harmony

You’d been raised around Yoda, so you were familiar with the species, but past that.. You were as clueless as Din was. 

You stowed your lightsabers away and that part of your life with it. You left behind the title of Jedi and put all of your efforts into taking care of The Child. Into taking care of Din. 

That was easier said then done. 

There is only The Force. 

*** 

I wasn’t supposed to fall in love. 

That’s all he is thinking as he stands examining the vast waters of the ocean the two of you sail on with the Quarren crew. Your fingers are curled in the direction of The Child’s pram, and he’s giggling as he tries to maintain control of his body while you spin him. 

It’s the first time he’s seen you smile in weeks. It’s always small ones too. He looks forward to the first time he’s granted the opportunity to see a real smile. 

It had taken you a while to open up to him about your time with the Jedi. You’d barely been a padawan when The Order’s genocide had been in effect, and the greater majority of your life had been lived in fear. Your Code and your Lightsaber were your only guide until Leia had found you and recruited you into The Rebellion. 

All your life you’d been looking for a purpose, and she’d given you one. 

Being here with The Child - caring for him, teaching him, had given you a new purpose - and being with The Mandalorian had taught you a newfound sense of compassion for people raised as he had been. 

Your compassion and heart had won him out in the end. He’d admitted to being in love with you months ago, but he had yet to vocalize it. He would. He will. 

It happens so fast. One minute the two of you are smiling - even though you cannot see his own - about The Child’s reaction to the Mamacore, and the next minute you’re roaring with rage as his pram is shoved into the center of the cage and he’s forced to retreat inside for fear of being killed. 

He’s a child. A child who’s been too involved in death, in seeing death, in flirting with death.. and Din has had enough of it. 

Din Djarin doesn’t like the water. He doesn’t like how it weighs him down, how it threatens to suffocate him, to fill his lungs with something cruel and cold that replaces the warm fire that floods his veins that has been placed there by you. 

  “You’re-You’re a Jedi?” 

  “Push him down! Harder!” 

His world is illuminated in a flurry of blue light as the Quarren’s keep pushing him down under, down down down and his first thought is ner jeti.. i’m sorry. He’s sorry that he’s again put you in this position where you’ve had to reveal yourself, reveal who you are, and all to protect him and The Child. 

Failure. 

He’s a failure. 

Between you and the trio of Mandalorians that arrive shortly after, the Quarren’s are dealt with in a matter of moments and then he’s being lifted - his lungs are reactivating, are expanding and contracting to remind him that he is alive - and he collapses in the midst of wheezing his concern for the child. 

  “The Child! Help-Help The Child!” 

The Mandalorian on the left dives into the water to rescue The Child from the creature. You turn your attention away from the bodies and sheath your sabers  before kneeling in front of Din to assess him. 

  “The Child-” He rasps, because his thoughts are never on himself, only you and The Child. His life doesn’t matter if it means the two of you are safe. “Jeti, ner ad-” 

Jedi, my son. 

Your gentle hand on his knee is enough to capture his thoughts. Your way of evaluating Din’s state has never been through the physical sense, but the mental. He doesn’t know how to shield because The Jedi was a foreign concept to him until he met you, and he’s always been receptive to your gentle nature. You don’t need to talk. You never have. 

You look. 

His mind is a flurry of panic and fear as you gently soothe it into a peace that makes his whole body go lax as Koska breaks the pram shell in half and gently scoops out the baby. “Here you go, Brother.” Koska murmurs, watching from beneath her helmet as you stand to your feet and allow Din to reunite with The Child he claims not to have an attachment to. 

Yeah... okay. 

Din and Bo-Katan converse - in which he is given an inexplicable truth about himself that he's not quite sure how to process - and he shuts down the idea of them even being real Mandalorians because their way is not his way. It’s a whole new reality he’s never had to face before. 

  “You are a Child of The Watch.” 

And as you stand there, you take in the distress in which the man you love - and have yet to tell - is trying so desperately to hide. 

***

His panic bursts through the surface when you unsheathe your sabers in the hall that connects and run right into the line of fire, deflecting blaster bolts left and right so Din can run right past you and blow the door to the bridge right open. 

The fight about it comes later, long after the two of you have returned to The Crest for the coordinates to Coravus where Ahsoka Tano is supposedly located. She is a Jedi - or was, once - and might be the only connection you have left to the person you used to be despite how young you had been at the time. 

Your first clue to his apparent agitation is the way he hasn’t unclenched his fists and has yet to look at you from where he sits in the cockpit. Your anger is growing steadily at his silence, which has never happened before.. not until you put your life into the line of fire. 

  “Say it.” Your voice echoes from behind the captain’s seat as you cross your arms over your chest. “Mando-please, stop giving me the kriffing silent treatment and just let me have it.” 

  “Ner jeti...” He stops short and stands to his feet, practically towering over you in a way that would intimidate most people. He has never once made you feel afraid... but he constantly makes you ache. With want, with pain, with desire. He makes you feel things you haven’t felt since before Order 66. “You cannot do that.” 

  “Do what?? Save your life? Mando, I’m-” 

  “Din.” Your rant is cut off halfway as he exhales lowly, a rumble through the modulator, and lifts a helmeted head to meet your gaze. “My name is Din Djarin. I thought it was time you know that.” 

Your entire body freezes. You have been a partner, an ally, since the day he’d found you on recruited you to help return The Child to his kind. You have been careful in ensuring that it’s strictly a professional relationship, you never had anticipated this- The intimacy that comes with divulging such a secret as his real name. 

  “Din?” You rasp, eyes glassy with tears as the air is knocked from your lungs. It rolls off your tongue easily. The sound of his name, his real name, is beautiful. “Wow. It’s... beautiful.” 

His response to your affirmation is like watching a galaxy of stars be born in front of your very eyes. He’s so receptive to it.. starved of it. 

  “I used to forget everything.” Din says. “The people who trained me.. they wanted me to be the best of our clan. There was so much we had to learn. Gun training, hand to hand, the significance of beskar and how important our Beskar’gam was to our safety. I was so good at it. I excelled.. but the one thing I could not shake? The water. 

They trained me in the water, jeti. They trained me in the water, to become part of the water... all I could think about was how much it suffocated me. I’m af-” He stops himself short because admitting to a fear is not something he was taught to do, it was bottle it up and compartmentalize in order to get the mission finished. “Afraid of the water because I can’t fight it like I do with a bounty. I can just..” 

  “Succumb. Sink. Let go.” You murmur. “And that’s not something you know how to do.” 

  “Yeah.” 

You’re oddly intrigued by the fact that this utterly fearless person, this man, was afraid. He’d always struck you as the opposite. 

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” You ask.  

  “Nearly drowning.” He replies. “And wondering how you and the ad would cope when I was gone. That’s why I need to tell you.” Din takes another step to close the gap that stands between you both. You’re practically trembling with anticipation. “Thinking about how...” 

Din stops. You rest a hand against the exposed skin of his neck and tilt your head as his mind thrums - resonates with the truth of his affection for you - and your lips part in wonder as you realize what he’s trying to tell you. 

  “Me too.” You whisper. “For a while.. probably since the start. Din, you are a good man. You’ve always been a good man, and I think it’s time that someone puts your needs before themselves instead of the other way around. Please.” Din is slightly taken aback at the pleading tone of your voice as you meet his gaze. “Please let someone take care of you.” 

That’s all you can muster before he’s collapsing at your feet. 

  ‘’Take it off.” He begs. 

  “No, no- Your Creed-” 

  “Sarad, I want to learn how to breathe again.” He interjects. “This is how I do that. It’s just a faster way of being able to be married to you for the rest of my life.” The man you love is kneeling at your feet and totally willing to abandon part of his livelihood because of you. “There’s nothing I’d want more. Go ahead. Take it off. Please.” 

Part of you had always been okay with the anonymity, but as this choice lays just within your fingertips, you find yourself desperate to look upon the face of the man who’d destroy entire galaxies for you and his son. 

The Beskar’gam hisses as you remove his helmet and find yourself staring into vulnerable onyx eyes that are wide enough to envelop whole star systems in their splendor. 

  “Din Djarin.” You whisper, smiling tearfully as trembling hands lift to cup a stubbled jaw. “What a beautiful face to put with an equally beautiful name.” 

He exhales his breath on a shuddered sigh and leans into your touch as you begin mapping his face with your fingertips. Din doesn’t dare move, too drunk on the feeling of touch ghosting across his skin in a intimate way that he’s not experienced since his parents left him in that cellar. His face grows warm at how needy he must seem, but you don’t seem bothered by it. 

In fact, the way his skin blooms red under your kiss makes your heart swell and your smile widen at the reaction it elicits. 

  “You know Din, if you wanted me to kiss you.. all you had to do was ask.” You muse. You can read his mind and his body in the same way you read the feel of your lightsaber and the air of a room of hostiles. “Now I don’t know about you, but The Child is asleep and I find myself tired after having to deal with Bo-Katan all day.. can we go to bed?” 

  “Yes.” He nods once, then twice, allowing you to take his gloves off and lead him in the direction of the tiny cot that somehow manages to house you both. The Beskar’gam comes off one piece at a time until Din is now standing in his usual underclothes which you have not been able to grace yourself with the image of until now as he lays each piece on the floor. 

You’re laying flat on your back when he’s finished, arms extended towards the ceiling as you beckon him forward. Din realizes that as he stares at your willingness to be there for him in his most vulnerable moment that he may sleep tonight with no night terrors. 

No thoughts of drowning. 

  “Din Djarin, cyare..” You coo, beaming as he crawls into the bed and allows himself to curl into your body and rest his head on your chest. “I think you should hear it now.” Gentle fingers card through dark curls as he focuses on his breathing - in and out in and out - and listens to the sound of your voice to lull himself to sleep. “I love you.” 

He hums thoughtfully and burrows himself deeper into your neck, smiling against the curve of your neck as you lightly graze his temple with your lips. Before Din can properly fall asleep, he rolls himself on top of you and settles himself comfortably against your body. It’s not too heavy, just enough to envelop you in the warmth he radiates. 

He’s safe.

You wrap your arms and legs around his form and nuzzle his temple. 

Darkness falls upon both of you as Din whispers, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” before promptly falling asleep in your capable hands. He’s safe. 

Tonight.. he’s not drowning. 

Tonight, he breathes. 

[gffa]

THE JEDI AS NATURAL, INSTINCTIVE TEACHERS IS A FUNDAMENTAL TO WHO THEY ARE AT THE CORE.  For @jedijune​‘s theme for Saturday, June 13th: Teaching/Learning

Taking a Closer Look at the Jedi Order in Star Wars Canon [Meta/Reference Guide]: Chapter 3: Teaching Is A Central Theme To The Jedi

Teaching is a central theme to the Jedi:     Obi-Wan:  “You’d make a good teacher.”     Anakin: “No thanks.”     Obi-Wan: “Anakin, teaching is a privilege. And it’s part of a Jedi’s responsibility to help train the next generation.” [Star Wars: The Clone Wars movie]

“Master Yoda said we never stop learning.  Perhaps the Master is meant to be as much a student as the Padawan.  I may not be the teacher that Qui-Gon was.  But I am the one that Anakin has.”  (–Obi-Wan Kenobi, Age of the Republic: Obi-Wan Kenobi #1)

Henry Gilroy and Dave Filoni on establishing Yoda as a teacher early on:      Gilroy:  "There were elements that we really wanted to explore, and that was things that were classic to Yoda, as a teacher.  We thought this was a great opportunity to show how the Jedi interact with the clones.  Specifically Yoda in a teaching role, of the clones, who were socially new, who were created to fight, and he really broadened their horizons, and helped them realize there was a great big universe out there that was bigger than just fighting and killing.“      Filoni:  "You see Yoda teaching the clones, much like he taught Luke, ‘cause that was kind of natural for them, a natural instinct to take these clones like their students. And it really allowed Yoda to have a scene that was reminiscent of a scene we both liked growing up, when he was teaching Luke.”       (Star Wars: The Clone Wars, “Ambush” commentary)

George Lucas on education (who believes it is the most fundamental issue):      “Plato didn’t teach [in the sense of drilling answers into them] people anything. All he did was ask questions.  The process was asking questions–'Why is the sky blue?’  It was purely a reverse of us feeding you all the information and [instead] teaching the kids how to learn.”       I find this is often the answer for why Yoda or the other Jedi don’t just lecture on the answers re: Force theology, because the narrative believe/creator’s belief is that it’s more important to teach how to ask a question than to drill in an answer.  A direct example is Yoda’s teachings to Ahsoka in “Teach You, I Will” getting her to think for herself and how George Lucas talks in an Empire Strikes Back documentary about Yoda’s bizarre speech patterns being about getting the audience to really stop and think about what the weird little frog man is saying.

JEDI PHILOSOPHY + TEACHINGS:

The Jedi did not see themselves as infallible or that failure was something any of them could avoid, even for their most esteemed Council members:     Depa Billaba:  "We cannot deny, Masters, that I failed you.  Failed you on a massive scale.“     Obi-Wan Kenobi:  "A lack of failure has never been a prerequisite to service, else none of us would be here.  Welcome back to the Council, Master Billaba.”  [Kanan: The Last Padawan]

The Jedi do not see themselves as a source of the light side of the Force, but rather the other way around.  In Darth Vader: Dark Lord of the Sith, Jocasta faces off against Vader and says:     “You are [Palpatine’s] tool.  Little better than a droid, set to stamp out the light side of the Force.  But this is impossible.  The Force is eternal.  It cannot be ended, it cannot be stopped, not so long as life exists.“ showing that, even if all the Jedi were dead, they knew that the light would still find its way in the galaxy, because the Force is eternal, the Force is in all life, the light is in all life, so long as that life exists.

“The Jedi can guide.  We can teach.  We can help people to help themselves.  But we are not an army.  If a people are truly determined to write themselves out of existence, there is little we can do.” [Obi-Wan & Anakin]

Questions are shown as natural and a good thing:     “A child, Anakin remains.  His path before coming to us, difficult.  His questions, natural.”  [–Yoda, Obi-Wan & Anakin]     "I have no issues with Anakin.  He is asking questions, as he should be at his age.“ [–Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan & Anakin]

It’s not just younglings that should be asking questions, but everyone:     "Answers, did you find?”     "I did.  And as often is with the Force, more questions.“     "Mmmm.  Good, questions are.  Ask them we must.  Certainty in our understanding, to arrogance it leads.  To the dark side.” [–Yoda, Qui-Gon, Age of the Republic - Qui-Gon Jinn #1]

Questions and determining your own path tend to be a big theme with the Jedi, that everyone must determine what they want for themselves, what they understand the Force has laid out their path to be and whether they want that, like with the above, and when it’s woven into the very decision that Ezra has to make, that Kanan can’t just tell him what to do on this:     “Which way is the right way?     “The wrong question, that is.”     “I’m sorry. I don’t understand. To be honest, I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”     “A better question, that is.”     “Kanan said I was gonna be tested, but he never said what for or why.”     “And your Master tell you everything, must he?”     “Well– No.”     “Your path you must decide.”  [–Ezra and Yoda, Star Wars Rebels, “Path of the Jedi”]

Obi-Wan taught Anakin that things should not be trampled just for acting according to their nature, instead (when they can) use the Force to move them along:       "These beasts are nearly mindless, Anakin.  I can feel it.  They are merely following their nature, they should not die simply because they crossed our path.  Use the Force to send them on their way.”  [Obi-Wan & Anakin]

Henry Gilroy says a similar thing with:     "Obi-Wan truly is a Jedi in that he’s like, ‘Okay, I’m not going to murder these creatures [in the Ryloth arc of The Clone Wars].  They’re starving to death.  They’ve basically been unleashed against these people as a weapon, but it’s not their fault. They’re just doing what they do.  They’re just animals who wanna eat.’  [Aggressive Negotiations Interview]

Ezra says he saw his parents and Kanan tells him what the Jedi teach:      "I saw them, Kanan. My parents. I-- I can't explain how."      "The Jedi teach that life doesn't cease at death, merely changes form in the Force. Your parents are alive inside you, Ezra. They will be. Always."  [Star Wars Rebels, "Legacy"]

JEDI AND THEIR STUDENTS:

A great emphasis is placed on teachers and students working together:  “Yoda cocked his head. ‘Adapt he must as well. Cooperation is learned not through individual effort. Only together can you progress.’” [Master and Apprentice] Yoda also says the bond between a Master and a Padawan is sacred.  [Dooku: Jedi Lost]

Jedi are never really done being students/being tested, even when they become teachers and Masters themselves, that students teach Masters just as Masters teach students, and their tests reflect this:   "But surely I should have been informed if you were testing my Padawan?“     "Who says the lesson was for him?” Bant said, smiling at her old friend.     Obi-Wan’s jaw dropped.  "You were testing me?“     "For both of you, the test was,” Yoda told him.     Mace nodded.  "A reminder that while Padawans must listen to their masters…“   "Teachers must also listen to their pupils,” Bant concluded.  [Choose Your Destiny:  Obi-Wan & Anakin]

“This is why we study.  Why we learn.  Skill is the child of patience.“  [Obi-Wan & Anakin]

"Your mission was never about [bringing back] the book.  It was about everything you did to find it.  All the challenges you had to face along the way.  And you overcame them all.”  "It was a test.“  "It was a journey, the next step in your training, and you succeeded in every way that mattered.” (–Luminara Unduli, Barriss Offee, Star Wars Adventures #20)

EARLY JEDI TEACHINGS/JEDI PHILOSOPHY 101:

As an overview of what Jedi teach as the early and foundational lessons, across multiple media, we see that meditation and self-reflection are just as important as bonding with their sacred crystal and practicing with their lightsaber, which then also connects with how so much of the early teachings Kanan gives Ezra when they're just starting are just as much/more focused on connection and understanding of self.  (As detailed below this!)  [Age of the Republic: Obi-Wan Kenobi + Kanan: The Last Padawan + Obi-Wan & Anakin]

One of the very first training sessions we see Kanan giving to Ezra–and thus informing our understanding of the foundations of Jedi teachings–is to have Ezra doing a handstand and tells him to, “Focus.  Focus on letting go.”  Eventually, trying to toss objects at him to get him into letting the Force move through him, hear its whispers instead of shouting at it.  Before Kanan brings out his lightsaber to practice with, he wants Ezra to first mentally focus.  [Star Wars Rebels, “Rise of the Old Masters”]

Another one of the earliest lessons Kanan teaches Ezra, putting it as one of the foundations of Jedi teachings is how they're connected to other beings:     “Step outside of yourself. Make a connection with another being.” as he teaches Ezra to connect with a loth-cat.       “I just don’t see the point of this.”     “The point is that you’re not alone. You’re connected to every living thing in the universe.”  [Star Wars Rebels, “Empire Day”]

When Kanan first starts training Ezra, he repeats Yoda’s saying of, “Do or do not.  There is no try.”  When Ezra questions it, Kanan says that he really doesn’t understand it, either.  By the end of the episode, after Kanan realizes Luminara can’t train Ezra, that he has to commit to Ezra instead of half-assing this, he says:     "I– Ezra. I’m not gonna try to teach you anymore. If all I do is try, that means I don’t truly believe I can succeed. So from now on, I will teach you.“  [Star Wars Rebels, “Rise of the Old Masters”]

Another early lesson is that Ezra must be honest with himself to advance as a Jedi:     “Ezra, you’ll never advance as a Jedi if you can’t be honest with yourself, at least.”     “What’s that supposed to mean?”     “It means Tseebo matters to you. You do care what happens to him.” [Star Wars Rebels, “Gathering Forces”]

Which is then reaffirmed later in that same episode:     “I got news for you, kid. Everyone’s afraid, but admitting it as you just did makes you braver than most, and it’s a step forward.” [–Kanan Jarrus, Star Wars Rebels, “Gathering Forces”]

Ezra has trouble moving forward in the first season because discipline and focus are fundamental to being a Jedi:     “But you said I was a Jedi. Why else would you be training me?”     “I never said you were a Jedi. I said you had the potential to become one. But you lack discipline, focus.” [Star Wars Rebels, “Path of the Jedi”]

JEDI CULTURE:

Jedi younglings (at least the diurnal ones) wake at dawn to meditate on the three pillars–the Force, Knowledge, and Self-Discipline.  Then they go to the refectory for lunch, where Dooku always likes to sit next to Sifo-Dyas. [Dooku: Jedi Lost]

The Jedi have a strong aesthetic that echoes the deepest parts of the Force–all circles and lines.  Time and the Force and the Jedi are all connected circles and arcing lines.

“You must not grow too attached, too fond, too in love with life as it is now.  The emotions are valuable and should not be suppressed… but you must learn to rule them, Padawan, lest they rule you.“  (Kanan: The Last Padawan)

“This man is perverting our sacred teachings to prey upon a vulnerable people.  I can think of little my tongue could say better than my saber in this instance.”      “Dissolve your hostility, Padawan.  Channel your frustrations into an appropriate emotion.  Violence, as always, is a last resort.”      “Of course.  Apologies, Master.”      “A fire burns inside of you, Padawn.  That, in itself, is not inherently wrong.  It is my job to help you temper it.” [Jedi of the Republic - Mace Windu]

JEDI AND FACING THE DARK SIDE:

“The fact that everything must change and that things come and go through [Anakin’s] life and that he can’t hold onto things, which is a basic Jedi philosophy that he isn’t willing to accept emotionally.”  (George Lucas, Attack of the Clones commentary)

The Jedi test from the Rebels episode “Path of the Jedi” novelization on facing their fears/the dark side within them:      "This test was not designed solely for the apprentice.  It was also a test for the master, for facing one’s fears was a lifelong struggle.” (Ezra’s Duel with Danger)

The test is specifically designed by the Jedi–as is the same test on Ilum for the Jedi younglings that they all had to face–to face their fears, because it didn’t just happen one time, it was something they faced all their lives, younglings and Knights and Masters, all of them.  This is why Ezra has to face it in Rebels, why Luke has to face it on Dagobah, why Rey has to face it on Ahch-To, the Jedi have always had to face the darkness within themselves and work beyond it.

Kanan also says it plainly as they enter the Temple:        “In here, you’ll have to face your worst fears and overcome them.” It’s pretty obvious that’s what happening when the Temple shows him a vision of the Grand Inquisitor killing Kanan and Ezra has to pick himself back up, admit what he’s feeling so he can face the fears again, and understand that he has to let them go and then it cannot hurt him here, the Grand Inquisitor’s blade passes right through him.  It’s then Yoda’s voice calls to him and we see that Ezra letting go of those fears allow him to move forward:      “Big fears have you faced, young one.”      “Yes.”      “Hmm. For what lies ahead, ready are you?”      “I am.”      “Come. See more clearly what you could not see before.” [Star Wars Rebels, “Path of the Jedi”]

When Cal is struggling with facing his fears and needs to create a new lightsaber, Cere gives him a pep talk and they head off to Ilum, where she tells him:  “You will be tested.  I don’t mean just here [on Ilum].  Every Jedi faces the dark side.  And it’s very easy to fail.  We will always struggle.  But that is the test.  It’s the choice to keep fighting that makes us who we are."  [–Cere Junda, Jedi: Fallen Order]

THE THEME OF GEORGE LUCAS’ MOVIES:

George Lucas says, “All of my movies are about one thing.  Which is the fact that the only prison you’re in is the prison of your mind.  And if you decide to open the door and get out, you can.  There’s nothing stopping you.“ –George Lucas (American Voices, 2015)

Which is reflected in the teachings of the Jedi, which further shows they’re in line with the narrative intentions of Star Wars:   Petro:  “You-you said we would be trapped.”   Yoda:  “Not by the cave you were but by your mind. Lessons, you have learned. Find courage, you did. Hope, patience Trust, confidence, and selflessness.” (The Clone Wars, “The Gathering”)

[swan-of-sunrise]

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Twelve)

Summary: Din and (Y/N) grow closer after opening up about their pasts, and they begin their search for the Jedi Ahsoka Tano on Corvus.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Brief discussion of panic attacks and trauma

A/N: I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Twelve The Past (Previous Chapter)

Since bringing (Y/N) on as his partner, Din had slowly grown used to having someone around to fill the deafening silence; if she wasn’t striking up a conversation with him, the captain was talking to the child or humming to herself while she piloted and worked on her sewing projects. But since leaving Nevarro the day before, she’d been unusually quiet and he suspected that her silence had something to do with what happened inside the Imperial base.

She’s always so considerate when it comes to the feelings of others, Din thought to himself as he recalled how understanding she’d been whenever he opened up to her and how kind she always was towards others, but maybe it’s time someone returns the favor. He switched the ship’s controls onto autopilot before making his way down to the cargo hold; (Y/N) was sitting cross-legged on her makeshift cot and absentmindedly cleaning her blaster, her (Y/E/C) eyes unfocused as she stared off into nothing.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

(Y/N) jumped a little, quickly looking over to where Din was standing and offering him a small smile. “My blaster saw a lot of action yesterday; I wanted to make sure it was ready for whatever we come across on Corvus.”

Din nodded. “Good idea.” He walked over to the open armory, grabbing his pulse rifle and a rag before taking a seat on one of the loose storage containers; they both worked on cleaning their weapons for several quiet moments before Din finally spoke. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He kept his gaze trained on his work, but he could hear her set aside her blaster and sigh. “You might’ve already figured it out but in the Rebellion, I was one of a few dozen smugglers who was tasked with smuggling civilians off of Imperial-controlled planets and past their blockades. We would visit the cities and villages that were the hardest hit and get as many people off-planet that we could, and the majority of the time our missions succeeded. But…”

When he glanced up, the captain was staring down at the floor with a hardened expression on her face. “But?”

“Sometimes, the Imps would catch wind that we were coming and rather than see civilians fall under the protection of the Rebel Alliance, they’d raze their homesteads and slaughter everyone in them. It’s been years, but I can still remember all those times I’d arrive too late; Stormtroopers used flamethrowers to burn down homes while a battalion shot down anyone who was left standing. As long as I live, I’ll never forget just how bright those flames were.” She looked up at him and he was struck by how weary her eyes looked. He recognized that they were the eyes of someone who’d seen far too many horrors in their lifetime, because they were the same eyes he saw whenever he looked into his battered mirror.

“So when you saw the lava in the heat shaft, all those memories came rushing back.” (Y/N) nodded once before glancing away. “…I know what that’s like.” She quickly turned her attention back to him and he took a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. “When I was a child, the village my parents and I lived in was attacked by Separatist battle droids; I was saved by the Mandalorians but everyone else…I was the only one who survived. The memories of that day – the explosions, the screams, seeing my mother and father for the last time – would always play through my mind whenever I had new armor forged by my Covert’s Armorer. It’s something I’ve learned to live with, but only because I try focusing on the good; the Mandalorians took me in when I needed a home and they raised me as a foundling, and without their kindness I would’ve died a long time ago.” The damning words of Bo-Katan came to mind but Din quickly pushed them aside; no matter what Creed they followed, the Mandalorians who took him in had helped him survive. “You saved innocent lives during the Rebellion. Thousands of people are alive because of you, alor’ad, and that is what’s important.”

After taking a moment to absorb his words, (Y/N) slowly began to smile; she didn’t say anything, but he could see the understanding in her eyes and he couldn’t help but return her smile beneath his helmet. The sound of his sleeping compartment opening broke the spell and they both turned to see the child blinking the sleep out of his wide eyes.

“Did you have a good nap, little guy?” (Y/N) asked, standing up and making her way over to the compartment; the child responded with a small coo and the captain chuckled, picking him up and glancing over at Din with a widening smile. “Well, I don’t know about you, Mando, but I could do with another sparring session right about now. What do you say?”

Getting to his feet, Din rested his hands on his hips and tilted his helmet as he met her challenging gaze. “Sure, why not? I’m always ready to take on cocky ex-smugglers and win.”

She rolled her eyes and looked down at the child in her arms. “You think I can beat Mando, right?” The child giggled and wrapped a clawed hand around the finger she was tapping his tiny nose with. “That’s what I thought! Mando doesn’t stand a chance, does he, little guy?”

Din watched their interaction with a fond smile on his face and in that moment, he made a decision. “Din.”

“Hmm?” (Y/N) distractedly asked as she glanced up at him. “What was that?”

“My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

While interacting with different cultures on his travels throughout the galaxy, Din had heard his fair share of fairytales and superstitions and although he respected the differing beliefs, he never put much stock in any of them. But in that moment, while he watched the blinding smile stretch across (Y/N)’s face, he could honestly say that he believed in the existence of angels.

“Well, Din Djarin, are you ready to get your ass kicked or what?”

Din couldn’t remember the last time he laughed as hard as he did at that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, they dropped out of hyperspace and Din piloted the ship towards Corvus while (Y/N) went down to the cargo hold to pack up their supplies. The child sat on top of one of the nearby control panels, staring out the viewport at the stars with widened eyes, and Din couldn’t help but smile sadly when he glanced over at him; if Bo-Katan’s lead on Ahsoka Tano’s correct, then this’ll be the kid’s last ride in the Razor Crest, he thought to himself.

“Corvus. This is the place; I’ve detected a beacon. I’m starting the landing cycle, so you’d better get back in your seat,” Din ordered as he began flicking switches and pressing buttons, looking over and frowning when he saw that the child hadn’t moved. “Hey, what did I tell you?” He gestured with his helmeted head to the passenger seat behind him. “Back in your seat.” With a disgruntled coo, the child clambered off the control panel and over to the passenger seat, and Din tried not to think about how much he was going to miss having the stubborn kid around.

The ship flew through the upper atmosphere and into the smog-filled air of the planet, and they soon landed on the outskirts of the small walled-off city of Calodan. Din and the child climbed down into the cargo hold just as (Y/N) was slinging a knapsack over her shoulders; since they didn’t know what to expect on Corvus, the captain’s blaster was concealed beneath a long-hooded coat and a vibroblade was tucked into her boot.

“Ready to go, alor’ad?”

(Y/N) looked over at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes; he knew that she’d grown attached to the child in the short time she’d been with them and it was obvious that she was trying her best to hide her conflicted feelings for the sake of their quest. “Yep! Let’s go find ourselves a Jedi.”

They lowered the ramp of the ship and walked out onto the planet’s surface, Din’s hand resting on the blaster holstered at his hip as he glanced around. The yellow-tinted smog filled the air and surrounding them was a forest of dying trees, among which a couple of creatures were slowly moving. When he turned back to (Y/N), his words died on his lips and his brow furrowed in concern as he took in her stiff expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Something feels…off about this place, Din.” She bit her lip and gave a decisive nod. “I’m gonna go get the little guy’s satchel.”

(Y/N) made her way back into the ship while Din stayed where he was; the longer he looked around, the more uneasy he felt about the planet. The sound of tiny footsteps behind him made him turn around to see the child sitting down on the ramp, his favorite silver sphere clutched in his hands, and he sighed in exasperation. “What did I say about that?” He knelt down and took the sphere from the cooing child, tucking it into the pouch at his waist with a firm head-shake. “This needs to stay on the ship.”

The captain returned a moment later with the satchel in hand and once Din slung it over his head, she helped him place the child in it. “You won’t be in here too long, little guy, just until we know that everything’s safe.” She ran a hand over the child’s wrinkled head and looked up at Din, a small crease forming between her brows. “You feel it too, right?”

Din nodded, resting a comforting hand on the small of his partner’s back as he urged her forward. “Let’s head into town, alor’ad, see if we can pick up a lead.”

As they started towards the city of Calodan, Din’s gloved hand dropped back to his side and he found himself clenching and unclenching it, silently wishing that he could’ve left it where it was. His impulsive decision to place her hand on the skin of his face back on Nevarro had plagued him; he tried focusing on other things, but all he could truly think of was the feeling of her soft hand on his cheek. Her touch had ignited something within him, and he’d quickly come to realize that he wanted nothing more than to be close to (Y/N); it was torture, especially during their sparring sessions, but he tried his damnedest to keep his hands to himself and remain focused on their quest.

They neared the gates of Calodan and Din’s eyes were instantly drawn to the three guards standing on the wall above; stopping in front of the gate, they both looked up as one of the guards stepped forward and called down, “State your business.”

“Been tracking for a few days,” Din called back, careful to keep the child hidden behind his cape. “We’re looking for a layover.”

The guard who’d addressed them raised his brows, seemingly impressed at the sight of them. “Nice armor. You a hunter, then?”

Din nodded once. “That’s right.”

“Guild?”

Gritting his teeth in annoyance, Din replied, “Last I checked.”

The guard’s eyes flicked over to (Y/N). “And you?”

“I’m his pilot,” (Y/N) confidently called back. “And his business partner.”

After several tense moments, the guard nodded and glanced over at one of his companions. “Open the gate.”

The gates slowly opened and the two of them walked inside, acutely aware that the gate had been closed behind them. Beside him, (Y/N) adjusted her fingerless gloves and mumbled under her breath, “Not exactly keen on strangers, are they?”

Din didn’t answer but he silently agreed; the further they traveled into the city, the more apparent it became that something wasn’t right. The people they passed on the street ducked their heads to avoid eye contact, some even darting into their homes before they could walk by, and the few vendors there were eyed the two them with caged expressions on their faces. This doesn’t seem like the sort of place a Jedi would live, he thought to himself as his brow furrowed.

Gesturing for the captain to follow, Din slowly approached a vendor on his right. “Pardon me, vendor, have you heard of anyone…” His words died in his throat when the vendor abruptly walked away and he turned to (Y/N), who’s frown had only deepened as her eyes looked past him towards the alleyway. Confused, he turned to see an older man and two small children in the shadows of the alley; the man was giving the children food and quietly speaking to them, and Din figured that he might be easier to speak to. “You there, we need some information.” He and (Y/N) stepped closer to the man as he got to his feet. “My partner and I are looking for someone.”

The man frowned in displeasure, turning to say something to the two children and watching them run off before turning back to them with a frightened look in his eyes. “Please, do not speak to them, or to any of us.”

“Look, we just need to know-”

(Y/N)’s gentle words were interrupted by a gruff voice. “The Magistrate wants to see you.” They both turned to see two masked guards behind them, whose hands were clutching their blasters as they stared them down. Clenching his jaw tightly, Din followed one of the guards down the city’s main road and he was mindful of the guard trailing close behind them. At the end of the road was a large guarded gate and flanking each side of the road were elevated cages, inside which were people groaning out in pain. Their cries were punctuated by the distinct sounds of electric shocks and Din averted his gaze from the sickening sight.

“Help us!”

“She’ll kill us all!”

Beside him, (Y/N) stopped dead in her tracks and stared up at the prisoners nearest to her; the captain’s horrified expression instantly reminded Din of the look that had come across her face just before her panic attack back on Nevarro, so he was quick to get her attention. “(Y/N)? Alor’ad, c’mon…” He urged, and her eyes lingered on the prisoners for a moment before she looked forward and fell in step with him.

The guards opened the gate and allowed them to walk through into a beautiful garden; they stood on a narrow stone walkway over a large pond that was surrounded by countless trees and plants, a stark contrast to the dilapidated city that they’d just walked through. Near the end of the walkway stood a woman dressed in the robes of a magistrate; a droid guard stood several steps away as she tossed food into the calm waters of the pond for an unknown creature.

“Come forward,” The woman called out, and Din and (Y/N) exchanged a look before complying. They came to a stop closer to her, but she didn’t look up from her work as she continued. “You are a Mandalorian?”

“Yes.”

“And the woman?”

A fiery look in her eyes, (Y/N) snapped back, “I’m his partner. What business do you have with us?” In any other circumstance, Din would’ve been captivated by the captain’s authoritative tone but he was concerned that her aggression would only serve to raise tensions.

The magistrate looked over at the pair, her brow raised in curiosity as her eyes examined them. “I have a proposition that may interest you two.”

Din’s eyes narrowed underneath his helmet. “Our price is high.”

“This target is priceless.” The magistrate countered. “A Jedi plagues me. I want you to kill her.”

Ahsoka Tano, Din thought to himself, an unsettling feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. (Y/N) stiffened beside him and he found himself slowly replying, “That’s…a difficult task.”

“One that you’re well-suited for. The Jedi are the ancient enemy of Mandalore.”

Din suppressed his sigh of frustration and shrugged. “As I said, our price is high.”

The magistrate gestured for the droid guard to come closer, accepting the long metal spear from it and holding it out towards Din. “What do you make of this?”

Together, Din and (Y/N) stepped forward and he hesitated a moment before accepting the spear; it was lighter than it appeared and when he tapped it against his vambrace, a familiar ringing echo filled the garden. “Beskar.”

“Pure beskar, like your armor. Kill the Jedi and it’s yours.”

He bit his bottom lip, a trait seemingly picked up from his partner, before gruffly replying, “Where do we find this Jedi?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of them were escorted back through the city to the main gate, their eyes trained on the guard in front of them while they walked past the caged prisoners and frightened residents. Once at the gate, the guard stood beside them and wrinkled his nose when he spotted the child’s head poking out of his satchel.

“What is that thing?”

Din’s nostrils flared in anger but he kept his voice level as he replied, “I keep it around for luck.”

The guard shrugged his shoulder. “Well, you’re gonna need it where you’re headed.” His eyes drifted away from Din to focus on (Y/N). “You got a good luck charm too, sweetheart?”

“I make my own luck,” The captain answered tersely and Din urged her forward before either of them could do anything to the guard that they’d end up regretting later. Once they were far enough away from the city’s gate, (Y/N) heaved a frustrated sigh. “Nice wordplay back there; you got the Jedi’s last known location without agreeing to the deal. But that magistrate…I don’t know if she’s Imperial or not but as soon as we find Ahsoka Tano, I’m going back and helping those people.”

Looking over at (Y/N), Din gave her a firm nod. “You won’t be alone.”

The three of them slowly made their way through the barren landscape of Corvus; Din’s pulse rifle was clutched in his hand and (Y/N) had drawn her blaster, but neither of them spotted any signs of the elusive Jedi. After about an hour of hunting, Din detected a faint rustling in the distance and was quick to place his free hand on the captain’s arm to halt her; he gestured towards the line of dead trees before them and she silently nodded, taking his pulse rifle and slinging it over her shoulder. Din took the child out of his satchel, setting him down on a nearby boulder before pulling out his scope and scanning the horizon. He didn’t spot anything at first but when he looked harder, he finally noticed the two large creatures peacefully grazing in the distance.

“False alarm,” Din sighed, lowering his scope and tucking it back into his pouch. “I-”

(Y/N)’s warning shout mixed with a loud electric hum made him spin around, reflexively bringing up his arm to deflect the two laser swords that were bearing down on his helmeted head. The laser sword-wielding Togruta continued attacking and it was all Din could do to block her strikes with his vambraces; the moment he found an opening, he activated his flamethrower and aimed it at the Jedi, watching as she blocked the flames with her cloak and flipped out of the way. Just as her feet touched the ground, he shot his grappling hook at her and bound her arms to her sides, but the Jedi merely smiled and jumped straight into the air. She flipped over a tree branch high above and pulled him up with her, forcing him to quickly cut himself loose.

Din drew his blaster and turned, bringing his free hand up in a placating gesture as he shouted, “Ahsoka Tano!” The Jedi froze, her laser swords still raised. “Bo-Katan sent me. We need to talk.”

Ahsoka’s blue eyes looked past him and her brow furrowed as she deactivated her laser swords. She slowly straightened her posture, and Din decided it was safe to holster his blaster when she glanced back at him with the ghost of a smile on her lips. “I hope it’s about him.”

He turned, following her gaze to where the child sat atop the boulder and hurrying forward when he spotted (Y/N) clambering to her feet beside it. “You okay, alor’ad?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” With a smile of thanks, (Y/N) accepted his hand and stood, wincing a little as she rubbed the small of her back. “Some kind of force pushed me back before I could draw my blaster…”

“Sorry about that,” The Jedi walked up to them and held out her hand towards the captain. “Ahsoka Tano.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” The two women shook hands and (Y/N) glanced over at Din with a melancholy look in her eyes. “It looks like our quest’s just about over.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading!

Mando'a Translations: Alor'ad-Captain

Chapter Thirteen

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty @sinon36 @seninjakitey @thatonedindjarinfan @ginger-swag-rapunzel @mostclevermiss @momc95​ @welcometothepedroverse​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @zukoyonce​ @itsnottilly​

[itsclydebitches]

one of the previous anons here (again)! :0

not to be an "UM ACTUALLY" kinda person, but I think the tinfoil anon was referring to the scene in the training room (where crosshair got stunned by hunter) insteada the scene at sea (rescuing omega and azi).

I'm.... *also* really curious about what he was thinking there, honestly? Like, all that setup to ask his brothers to join the empire with him -- but what did he expect them to say? And it even seemed like he was about to draw his rifle on Hunter, before Hunter stunned him, but the others also had their guns pointed at him? He couldn't have possibly thought he was going to walk away from that in one piece lmao, regardless of whether he outdrew Hunter or not

Anyway, yeah, apologies for cluttering your inbox with the digital equivalent of snail mail these past 48ish hours XD.... I just think these meta posts are neato

OH SHIT if that's the case so sorry other anon, that's my bad 😅

And omg, literally don't worry my inbox is already beyond saving. I've got hundreds of asks spanning back years at this point, stuff I just straight up don't have time to answer and, sadly, probably never will. Cluttered doesn't begin to cover it. If my ask box could embody physical space, it would probably smell like TBB's barracks lol

But YEAH okay, let's talk the stunning scene instead because I love being sad on a Sunday night. What's important for me is that building up to this it's Hunter who is gunning for Crosshair (pun not intended lol). Crosshair has already shown that he's not planning to hurt them by murdering his other team and he's only just started to think over Hunter's "We never were" — in response to his "don't become my enemy" accusation — when all the droids pop up. Yet instead of focusing on them, Hunter immediately jumps on Crosshair. I mean yeah, we as the audience (to a certain, complicated extent) understand why they're so wary of him, but also think about how bad that looks from Crosshair's perspective. You've just proven you're not out to hurt your team, Hunter claims you were never enemies... but the second a fight starts he attacks you. Like you're the enemy. So does Hunter believe what he's saying? So many of the problems here come down to claims vs. action. TBB is really good at saying things to Crosshair, but aren't very good at backing them up with action. Like claiming they wouldn't leave him behind vs. actually not coming back for him during this whole stretch, here we've got "We're not your enemy" vs. Hunter choosing to attack him instead of the droids.

So they tussle a bit and it's only when the droids become overwhelming that Hunter is forced to turn his attention towards them instead. When he does, we see Crosshair thinking for a moment and then we get a preview of that "Oh no, Crosshair is going to shoot Hunter!" scare out on the water: he lifts his rifle, aims in a way that appears to be at Hunter's back, but then shoots over his shoulder to hit the droids instead. We even get two reaction shots to this, Hunter's brief look of surprise and a more overt "Omg, Crosshair is helping" reaction from Tech and Wrecker.

When Wrecker pulls his helmet back down it's with a sense of new determination. The whole squad is back in action! This is (again) proof that Crosshair is not out to be their enemy. He just fought alongside them, protecting them rather than taking advantage of the situation to take them out.

... except that as soon as the battle is finished Hunter immediately has his weapon on Crosshair.

And everyone else follows his lead.

Crosshair had complete trust in them. He had his back turned right before this moment, head in his hand, not at all worried about what his allies were doing. Why would he? They're meant to be allies and the threat (the droids) is gone. Except then he turns around to find that Hunter has his weapon on him after Crosshair just killed for him, after Hunter attacked first, after Crosshair didn't attack when given the chance, and you can see him looking down at his weapon with this sense of resignation.

What was he thinking in this moment? Probably that fighting is inevitable. I don't think Crosshair believes he can make it out of this without being stunned (or shot. I mean, does he know their blasters are set to stun?), but rather that he's just going along with what the others insist is going to happen. Every time he does something to say "We're not enemies" they do something back that says, "We are."

Crosshair doesn't want to fight his team, but Omega releases droids to help them battle him.

Crosshair wants to fight the droids, but Hunter attacks him instead.

Crosshair does fight the droids when given the chance and thinks that's it, he's proven his trustworthiness, but Hunter has him at gunpoint the second it's over, as do the others.

Every time he tries to do something to show he's not their enemy — "Don't make me your enemy" he says. That's what he's trying not to be — they turn around and frame him as the enemy anyway, whether it's attacking him instead of a droid, Tech telling Wrecker he's beyond talking to, or all of them assuming he's out to shoot Hunter instead of save Omega. This is an ongoing trend that just snowballs the longer things go on. Have you watched Grisha? You know the Darkling's line, "Fine, make me your villain"? To my mind it's sorta like that only with Crosshair having better grounds to make that claim than the Darkling did lol. Raising his gun isn't about thinking he can win this fight. It's also not about wanting to fight — he's made it very clear that he doesn't want that at all. It's much more of a resigned, "Fine, if this is the road you insist on going down, I'll oblige you."

"This is who I am," Crosshair says and Hunter has made it clear, several times over, that "this" is TBB's enemy. Crosshair didn't want that, but it's what they're insisting on, so an enemy is going to defend themselves by shooting back. Which is when he's knocked out, wakes up drowning, is saved by Omega, learns the Empire tried to kill him, and is back to his half angry/half desperate, "Can you please not think of me as the enemy for two seconds and hear what I have to offer?"

As for what he thought his brothers would say in regards to joining the Empire, that offer he has... I think he thought they'd say yes. Whether that belief is born of his own, twisted reasoning, or if there is still something going on with the chip, Crosshair prioritizes their safety and their purpose over the ethics of working for the Empire. When Hunter goes, "We're loyal to each other, not some Empire" that's something Crosshair agrees with. When not forced to try and kill them via the chip, he is loyal to the squad, absolutely, even over what the Empire wants. That's why he kills the Empire's soldiers and disobeys orders to get rid of TBB, instead trying to orchestrate their move into the organization instead. That's not what the Empire wants, it's what Crosshair wants.

So they're both loyal to the team over who they work for, the only problem is a) Crosshair is struggling to believe that they ever considered him a true part of the team — "You weren't loyal to me" — and b) Hunter's loyalty, unlike Crosshair's, actually has a limit. For him, he's not willing to kill civilians to give his brothers a sense of purpose in the world. He's not willing to follow an evil Empire to ensure that they have food and aren't always on the run. For Hunter, his desire to keep the rest of the team safe and happy does not outweigh basic morality (which is a good thing!) They'll figure out a way to survive while also doing the morally correct thing. Crosshair, however, places nothing above his teammates. He'll betray the Empire's orders for them. He'll kill his new team for them. He'll murder whatever innocents it takes to give them a safe, fulfilling life in this new galaxy. The Empire wants him to kill other people's kids? What does he care if the tradeoff is getting a good home for Omega? Something, something, Jedi fear attachments. All of which makes this whole mess all the more tragic. He will do anything — literally, ethically anything — for his squad... and they didn't even come back for him. He'll do anything for them, but they're insisting on being enemies instead. The underlying problem is that Crosshair's way of expressing devotion and care — let me help you join the Empire that's definitely going to take over the galaxy so that you'll be under their all-powerful protection and can live save, happy lives — is something that TBB finds to be repugnant (with, you know, excellent reason). So Crosshair is just standing there, continually offering his heart to them, not understanding why these ethical questions are more important than the only thing he cares about: them. And, again, we don't currently know how much of that warped thinking stems from Crosshair himself, or something that was/is still up with the chip.

Plus, toss in everything else we've discussed about Crosshair's abandonment. He doesn't understand why they care about the Empire's crimes over the protection of their family and he's continually hurt by the knowledge that they won't go as far for him as he's willing to go for them, not realizing that going that far is morally reprehensible. If TBB had tried to rescue him and had approached him as a brother in need of rescue, rather than an enemy, he might be more receptive to their arguments about what's best for the team. Simply because he would have felt like he was still a part of that team. Right now, everything Hunter argues about the evils of the Empire, while 100% true, are filtered through this knowledge that Crosshair isn't a "real" brother anymore. Chip or not, he believes what he's saying and has no reason to think that he's wrong, just that others aren't listening to him. From Crosshair's POV, they wrote him off the second this all started and haven't made a single move to fix things. That's the easiest way to entrench the idea that his way of doing things is right, the only problem here are his brothers who refuse to see it, insisting on opposing him instead, just as they had from the get-go when they left and never came back. To Crosshair, he's reaching out despite (again, from his perspective) the others not deserving it, yet that extended hand is continually slapped away. Nothing in the situation is helping him realize that what he's offering is what's wrong because it's all framed to look like he himself is the problem (see: Tech's little speech to Wrecker). But that's also why Omega's reminder that he's still their brother is so important. He gets a reminder, but Crosshair needs to see that again too. He needs a reason to turn away from the Empire because, whether it's due to the chip or not, the simple argument "This is wrong" isn't doing it for him. I honestly think he'd have left with them if he felt like he could rejoin the squad because, as established, his squad means everything to him. That's the top priority. But so much happened to make Crosshair believe that his brothers don't want him, that they'll only accept him as an enemy, that any offers to join them are made only out of obligation... that all he has left is the Empire. He needs to believe that they accept him as his brother so he can toss the Empire to the curb for what he wanted this whole time: to go home.

tl;dr IT'S SUCH A HORRIBLE MESS lol and this is why I oh so hope season two tackles all this with something resembling respect and nuance. This is one hell of a tangled problem, with lots of justified and inaccurate anger on both sides, so to try and simplify it all into a, "Crosshair is just a bad guy who thinks bad things ¯\_(ツ)_/¯" would be... less than satisfying imo.

[johns-prince]

John also had a lovely mix of masculine and feminine physical traits, though this wouldn't become obvious until 1968. When he was on the skinny side (which I loved, sue me) you could tell how beautifully delicate and dainty his bone structure was, way more than Paul's imo. He had those gorgeous long legs and graceful narrow hips that you most commonly find in fashion models. And I love that until at least 1975, he showcased his body beautifully, especially those legs.

Ironically I feel as if people didn't embrace John's femme beauty as well as they did with Paul. I don't know why. Most people seem to prefer him with the more masculine look of 1966. Which was great as well, he was gorgeous but I am a big fan of the 1968 to 1974 run. Btw, note to fanfic writers: please, show John's body some love, I know Paul is stunning but it's kind of exhausting reading 10 pages about how pretty he is and when it comes to my boy John he barely gets a paragraph 😂

Alright, I feel like I’m probably gonna rub a lot of people in this fandom the wrong way with what I’m going to say but this is my blog and you did send this to my inbox so here we go; At the end of the days these are my thoughts and feelings and I might not articulate them very well or I often ramble till I do!

I have my issues, and a complicated relationship with 1968-70s John Lennon. I love John, and thought him healthy and just right in his body type, basically up until 1968, and it’s spotty onward throughout the 70s. To me, John was naturally masculine looking, there’s not exactly an era or year that I could give you like you gave me [Specifically 1966? What about his teddy boy days? All of the early 60s? Hell even throughout the 70s, to me John still was masculine looking to me] He was a bit awkward in his teenhood, but all the boys were, and gradually grew into his adult body. Boy was built and sturdy, naturally thick and strong. 

So we’re probably split on this, because while you see the positives in 1968-1974/70s John, I only really see the negatives. You say skinny, I say malnourished and/or sickly. Depressed druggie who was pushing everyone and everything he loved away, and becoming pathetically dependent on an individual like Yoko [and the other vultures during that time who were terrible influences] 

George was skinny, John was not well and either starving himself or simply using drugs and alcohol as the basis for his diet. And diets.. don’t even get me started on that, the diets he was on, the unhealthy lifestyle that his wife only seemed to enable and help him get on. 

When I look at George, sometimes I get the need to feed him, like an old Mexican mother. When I look at John, who’d lost an unhealthy amount of weight for what it looked like for his body type, I don’t see delicate and dainty bone structure. I see a man who just, he’s not well, something’s wrong.

I’ll give it to you that 1974 New York photoshoot looked very nice, he had muscle again in his arms, though he was still relatively skinny, he didn’t look sickly, or depressed. So I can give you that period during the 70s, I will give you that [hey he was away from Yoko during this no fucking wonder he looked pretty good here] and that shoot was definitely a model moment, wasn’t it? [Not like he didn’t have many of those moments throughout his life] 

So there moments in the seventies where I think John doesn’t look half bad? Even relatively fine? Certainly, I’m devastatingly attracted to this man, dear God almighty have mercy on my soul yes I am. So I’ll agree that yeah, there were periods during the 70s in which John seemed to hold himself fairly well, I’d still climb it.

But I’m at least willing to admit that when John started his spiraling, in 1968, that he was Not Okay. And I personally believe he wasn’t all that okay throughout most of the 70s too... Maybe my issue isn’t with him being ‘skinny’ as it is I don’t like the underweight/severely underweight look on John, I just don’t. The incredibly unhealthy way he went about losing weight... Physically frail doesn’t fit him, and it only upsets me whenever I see photos of him that show how thin his legs became or how you can see his ribs, just how wasted away he’d look at times throughout the 70s, up until the last days of his life. 

You want a “skinny” or ''skinnier'' John Lennon? A healthy, ‘’skinny/skinnier’’ John Lennon for his body type, is ‘66 and ‘67 in my eyes, and even then it wasn’t a radical change in weight loss; John still looked like John.

And speaking of 1968-1969, or the White Album era; don’t think it isn’t lost on me when I see people making light of John’s unhygienic appearance during the making of the White Album. Boy was depressed and hurting for whatever reason, again, spiraling, and getting lost in Yoko and heroin as a means of escapism and someone to tell him ‘it’s alright it isn’t your fault it’s everyone else’s fault’. Of course he didn’t care much for his personal appearance or hygiene... I will say I appreciate your appreciation for him during that period, instead of getting the whole ‘stinky/smelly rat man.’ Maybe I’m too much of a ‘’stan’’ but I don’t find it very amusing or endearing. 

Don’t find me mocking or ‘’teasing’’ Paul’s depressed ass and his appearance during the breakup period/white album era-- but I suppose it’s because Paul actually tried and wasn’t on hard drugs, and had a good wife, so he was able to wear his depression and struggle with alcoholism a bit better, hmm? I don’t like Paul’s beard simply because I know it was the result of his lack of energy, depression, and falling into the drink-- he simply didn’t feel the need nor had the energy to care for himself, so that’s why he let it grow out. I don’t like it because of that, but that’s as much as you’ll get from me. 

Anyway... Maybe I just don’t see John as characteristically feminine/effeminate as Paul, although he has his moments of acting and wearing clothes that are campy and elegant or give off a softer appearance, specifically around 1968 and throughout the 70s. But otherwise, I can’t agree, John didn’t have the same mixture, or balance of masculine and feminine traits as Paul-- and if it’s only made obvious during the downfall turning point of The Beatles and John (1968), then I don’t think that really counts as a ‘’lovely’’ mix of masculine and feminine traits for the reasons I mentioned. So I’ve got to disagree. John's always come off as much more masculine, or naturally masculine, both physically and characteristically, to me.

You know maybe it’s just the blogs I interact with, but I feel like it’s the other way around. I know I can sometimes come off as aggressive but at the end of the day I don’t necessarily care what one person thinks or believes, since it’s all relatively subjective to our own ideas of things and biases, etc... I have my thoughts and beliefs and theories and whether people agree or disagree with them on tumblr dot com... Well, what’re you gonna do? Nothing, it’s not my problem. 

What I 100% agree on you with is about showing Johnny’s body a bit more love and attention to detail when it comes to writing about him in fanfiction! 

There’s his auburn red hair, a darker ginger, which was thick and fun to watch as it lit up like fire when sunlight hit him, and could easily go wavy and curl when left unkempt and natural. The splattered and scattered galaxies of light freckles up and down his arms, his shoulders, his back, even a couple on his face. His aquiline nose, a relatively square jawline and facial structure, thick, heavy eyebrows which really intensify expressions of rage and hurt, almond shaped eyes which are the color of honey-amber when the light hits them just right and outlined with thick, long lashes, blind as a bat without his glasses but can give a mean squint which either helps scare off trouble, or brings it right to him, especially when he’s got thin bitten lips that could pull off a devilishly cheeky smirk or a no-good, charming grin to showcase teeth with the upper front turned slightly in towards each other, gives that imperfection which truly just perfects it-- a face like that of a tragic hero in a Greek Romance, distinctive and handsome. How he just oozed filthy sex and genuine trouble, sweaty leather and smoky dancehalls and rock & roll that crawls up your spine like an orgasm. Hips that could roll like Elvis and strong legs, thick thighs which would make a lovely place to sit. Broad shoulders, strong arms that could easily manage to lift you up and manhandle you in any way he’d like. Big hands, almost like shovels-- beautiful hands, with fingernails usually bitten short and occasionally had black ink or charcoal under them from when he’d be working on art, and rough, callused fingertips from playing guitar till they split and bleed, add a lovely roughness to any gentle touching he might do. A naturally thick midsection, a normal, healthy layer of fat which covers the sinewy just beneath. Any hair is light, light and lightly colored, on his arms and legs and chest. Cute tush, nice butt, a nice boy butt, slightly muscular bubble butt. 

Fun facts; he had the largest feet out of all four Beatles. John isn’t circumcised. John and George share the same height. John has a surprisingly long tongue. John’s skin tone may be light, but for comparison, he’s much tanner compared to Paul-- he’s a bit more olive or wheat to his skin tone, and tanned very, very well. John’s cheeks could become easily red though. John liked the scent of citrus to wear--  he was also self conscious about the fact he could easily sweat and so usually wore such colognes or scents, didn’t want to smell bad. He started smelling of witch hazel when with Yoko. Despite his issue with sweating, he didn’t smell bad naturally. John was a true romantic, being an artist outside of being a musician/rock and roller-- he just didn’t like to show it, and growing up in his time, you couldn’t. John’s a swimmer, he loved to swim and loved the ocean. 

[catherdrashepard]

Darrow is Not Going to Die at the End of the Series Part 2

There are probably going to be at least one or two more parts depending on how much I can stop myself from blathering on. Anyway, spoilers ahead for the following: Dark Age, Hunger Games, Castlevania, Trollhunters: Rise of the Titans, Avengers Endgame, The Hobbit, Voltron, FMA, HttYD, Death Note, Madoka Magica, Merlin, Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, HunterxHunter, Dragon Prince, He-Man (the new one), Yu Yu Hakusho, Persona 3. Mass Effect, The Hollow, Camp Cretaceous, and whatever else I can think of.

I last left off on talking about how my thoughts implied that Darrow could die at the end as long all the loose ends are tied. But, I don’t think that that’s really something that can actually happen. A lot of this is speculation on my part and really relies on what happens during the 6th book.

The first thing that came to mind was Mass Effect. The ending of Mass Effect 3 was...not very well received. I’m not going to say that I’m particularly happy with it either but I also think it fits the narrative. However, one thing to note, video games are different than books and the story that Shepard goes through is reliant on the player. Also, stories in games are going to be shorter than stories in books (for the most part, there are definitely exceptions) due to player involvement.

I’m going to start with Shepard’s first death, at the beginning of Mass Effect 2. Of course, being the second game, their death couldn’t be permanent unless BioWare switched protagonists mid trilogy. There are a few reasons, in my opinion, that Shepard was killed during the opening credits of the second game.

First of all, the combat changed between games (a lot between the first and second and only slightly between second and third), and I think Shepard’s two year absence gave a reason for a tutorial on the new combat system. They were dead and had to learn how to use new technology. This is also done between the second and third games, with a 6 month gap, but the combat only changed slightly. Secondly, having the main protagonist die really highlights the threat that the player is dealing with in the second game but, Shepard’s return also shows that they still have unfinished business and that their story isn’t over. Thirdly, I think the absence gives time for the secondary characters time to develop on their own. This is shown more with the characters who appeared in the first game but also it gives an idea of just how much of an impact Shepard had. I feel like this is a parallel to the time Darrow spent in the table between GS and MS.

Now to move on to Shepard’s more permanent death...although if you complete the game entirely (at least in the legendary edition; thank goodness I hated the battle readiness thing) there is a dubious ending where Shepard may or may not have lived. But in any case, Shepard is considered dead and their story is over. Whatever my feelings about this may be, this type of ending didn’t come out of nowhere. The main threat, the Reapers, have been dealt with in a permanent manner, or at least it’s heavily implied that they won’t be coming back. However, just because the Reapers are gone doesn’t mean there aren’t still things to be done. Specifically, recovery. Shepard very well could have been involved in this but it’s not necessary. Their story is over, they have dealt with the threat and it’s not coming back.

Darrow, on the other hand, has not finished his mission. Even if he does by the end of the next book, however, it’s a very different circumstance from Shepard. The threat in Mass Effect was a very large and tangible thing, whereas the problem Darrow faces is an ideology and the people who hold those views. Something like that doesn’t end with a large space weapon pointed directly at the threat; it permeates everything. So even if Darrow defeats Atalantia, Lysander, and whoever else, there’s most likely going to be more people who shared belief that Golds are best. Also, we saw how the Vox Populi felt about the things Darrow was doing. Darrow is essentially reconstructing an entire system of government and, no matter how correct Darrow is, there will always be people who disagree with him.

Assuming Darrow defeats the remnants of the Society, stops the Ascomanni, deals with Quicksilver and whatever he’s doing, takes care of Atlas, handles Apple, what’s left? Much like with the end of Mass Effect, what’s left is recovery. The difference between these two, however, is that while Shepard was not necessarily needed for the rebuilding, Darrow would be.

Now, both Shepard and Darrow spearheaded their respective causes, but (and this relies heavily on how the sixth RR book goes) defeating the Reapers was a group effort, utilising every species and as many resources as they can spare. No doubt the rebuilding of the entire galaxy will require the same. Not that Darrow’s goal hasn’t been similar in that regards, with the help of so many different Colors being necessary. It’s just....Darrow’s circle feels a lot smaller than Shepard’s.

I mean, obviously being the face of a war is going to get you a lot supporters and people to work with, but the most important players are Darrow’s close friends and family. I’m sure part of this is the fact that the books are first person with specific POVs. Mass Effect does focus on Shepard’s story, but it’s in third person and you get a lot of different information through sidequests and talking to other characters. I mean, there’s a whole codex in Mass Effect with a lot of information and there isn’t one for RR (PB should make one tho). Our knowledge of the universe and its history is more limited in RR than Mass Effect, but I think that’s mostly because the lore in Mass Effect has more of a direct impact on how the story goes.

But back to the original point, it’s explicitly shown in Mass Effect that it requires everyone to stop the Reapers. And even though we see Darrow’s army, the main players, the ones who are taking care of the big things, are still Darrow’s inner circle. As an example, Mass Effect would be more like a pyramid (ironic) where Shepard is at the top. Even if it crumbles away (they die), the pyramid will still stand. For RR, it feels more like a chain. If one of the links (Darrow) breaks, then the chain is also broken. You could re-attach the pieces but it wouldn’t be as strong as it once was.

One last thing I wanted to bring up (which I will bring up again in part 4, yes I said part 4), is technology. Both Mass Effect and RR take place in the future and therefore have better technology than we do. There is something very important about this technology though that makes it more likely for Darrow to live. The Reapers are a race of sentient squid machines hellbent on the genocide of every other sentient species in the galaxy. But they are the ONLY things with access to that kind of technology. Even when they share it with Saren or the Collectors, it’s not something others can replicate. And once they’re destroyed (control ending notwithstanding) at the end of the third game, that’s it. They could still have people who are indoctrinated (although I think that stops when the Reapers were destroyed?) or people who are just stupid and think they were right, but...those people aren’t a threat. They can’t bring back the Reapers, I doubt anyone would be able to recreate such a thing (at least not within Shepard’s lifetime even if they did live). So once the Reapers were gone...that’s it.

Now, the technology in RR is, for the most part, accessible to everyone. Assuming Darrow defeats Atalantia, Lysander, etc. their way of thinking would still be around. But with the way the universe works, I think it would entirely possible for supporters of the Society to rise up and start a conflict all over again. This means Darrow is not finished yet, even if the immediate threats are gone. It wouldn’t make sense for him to die when there’s still stuff for him to do.

I do think, though, that it is worth mentioning that the definite ending of Mass Effect is probably related to the fact that it’s a video game and especially for stories like that, a more open ended conclusion with the implication that I COULD do more would only be frustrating. With tv shows, movies, and books, I notice, having a more vague ending works better because you’re just separated enough from the story that you can enjoy the implications of more stuff without feeling unsatisfied. There’s always exceptions of course.

ANYWAY, it part 3 I’m going to be talking about Persona 3 and 5 so....stay tuned.