#so they can collect data on who's trying to make it to the top and beat the game | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lincolndjarin · 2 months ago

Text

hollow star ⊹₊⟡⋆ ch. one

chapter one : when flesh meets steal

ao3 kofi main masterlist (series masterlist coming soon )

pairing: din djarin x scientist!reader

rating: 18+ mdni - check chapter tags for cws

word count : 6.1k

summary: Din agrees to help you when he's sees the credits you're offering in exchange for protection, after all, it's a simple mission. Artifact retrieval and data collection.

That's what you told him.

And why wouldn't he believe you?

tags: strangers to lovers, horror, non-consensual voyeurism, slowburn, psycological horror, fear

70,000 CREDITS - PRIVATE ESCORT DETAIL : FREELANCE OPERATIVES ONLY

SERVICE TYPE: Discreet Escort / Protection Detail

DURATION: 2 weeks (approximately)

LOCATION: Classified - Outer Rim, unregistered planet (coordinates provided upon meeting)

COMPENSATION: 140,000 credits, 70,000 upfront, and the remainder upon completion of the job. (an additional 10,000 credits will be provided for every day of service required after the initial 2 weeks.)

BONUS: Hazard pay negotiable based on situational escalation.

REQUIREMENTS: Combat experience, (soldier or soldier adjacent is preferable) must be familiar with navigation and willing to travel through hostile terrain. Preferably a ship that does not require a crew and has a solo operator. (negotiable) Must not be affiliated with the New Republic, or any Jedi-aligned factions.

Private client requiring an armed escort for the purpose of a personal research trip. The objective being artifact retrieval and/or data extraction. No combat is anticipated but the client requests protection against potential scavengers or environmental threats. Client will not be armed. No questions asked, no answers expected, discretion is non-negotiable.

There’s several blocked lines of text at the bottom of his monitor, encrypted information about the client that makes him furrow his brow. The black screen flickers a bit, his thoughts accompanied by the quiet hum of the space that surrounds the Razor Crest. 140,000 credits is nothing to scoff at, it’s the type of payment he’d expect on a high risk job, or something far more sinister than this. That kind of money is often offered up for jobs that most people wouldn’t choose because of its morality. Hit’s put out on children, or the defenseless. Or at the very least something that would take well over a few months.

Not this, not a simple in and out escort job.

The redacted information is concerning. Too concerning, even with the payout promised. His fingers type into the system for a few moments, trying to push through what he knows to be simple defenses put up by the guild before the screen blinks and the text is easily revealed to him. With a pleased sigh he sits back in his chair and reads.

Client shows signs of previous Imperial affiliation, though not flagged for war crimes. Known history with a classified archives division. Linguist, no combat personnel history. Last known activity listed as an unexplained incident with a vault located at Station Mourna 2. (now sealed.) Was assigned to the Imperial Historical Recovery Taskforce, or I-HRT, division 12. No last known location. No existing warrants or bounties on head.

The Imperial affiliation stands out to him but it reads like they had very little to do with anything more than their history department. Which seems benign enough and would explain the exorbitant fee. They can simply afford it.

But there’s just something off about the listing.

It should be so simple, it’s a clean cut job, a bit clinical, but nothing of the sort would be required of him. It’s the top left corner of the screen that makes him the most hesitant.

36 applications received, 0 accepted.

The client clearly requires someone experienced, it can’t even be seen by anyone without a certain guild clearance level but 0 acceptances out of 36? It’s unheard of, even with the pickiest clients. Anyone who would have applied at this point would have been more than qualified.

Maybe the client is particular about certain things, or maybe they already found someone and forgot to remove the listing. Either way it’s simply too tempting to resist any longer. He needs the money, or at the very least he needs the distance.

He can’t just keep waiting here, burning through fuel, for something that is never going to happen.

He enters his guild code, fingers lingering above the send button before finally clicking it. Rocking back in the pilot's seat he lets his head fall back. Accepting the fact that he won’t be receiving a response before the message has even been fully sent out.

So the immediate chime made by the ship's notification system is more than a shock as he sits back up.

Congratulations! Your application has been accepted! The client will be waiting for you on : CORUSCANT

Attached you will find the message provided by the client, best of luck!

I would like to be retrieved as quickly as possible from the Kaelen Memorial Travel Port. Payment will be exchanged immediately after boarding. Your haste is appreciated.

Dr. Thorne

The response makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He can’t place the sense of dread this all fills him with but unfortunately his mind is made up. A lot of things fill him with dread these days, so he might as well make a little money.

It’s not like he has anything left to lose.

⊹₊⟡⋆

Sleep doesn’t come easy to him.

It never has, but especially not these last few months. Almost always it’s just simple restlessness, a refusal to turn off the hunters instincts and relax. Waking up in a sweat after a dream of just barely snagging a bounty, or finding himself at the end of a blaster being wielded by one of the many nameless faces he’s turned in over the years.

Tonight is different though. Tonight he sinks into sleep slowly, but deeply.

When he wakes up he’s met with a feeling he hasn’t felt in decades.

The wind.

Cold, and sharp against his face as he cautiously gets to his feet. He’s standing in a field of ash, no visible sky above, only more grey and smoke.

He manages to pull himself together enough to realize he’s dreaming but it doesn’t make him any less disoriented. His hands find his face, scratching at the unfamiliar sting of air on his flesh. Looking around and trying to take in his surroundings proves fruitless until something slowly slips through the smoke above him. Swaying back and forth in the breeze until it gingerly lands in his open hands.

A feather.

A dainty, black feather.

When he shifts his gaze upwards to find the source he finally finds something else in the endless expanse of space around him. A star.

Although it’s barely that at all.

Hanging from a mess of wires is a poorly made steel outline of a star, desperately trying to stay together as a few sparks twitch out of the exposed cables within. It tries to flicker, to turn on but all it manages is a pathetic glow from the hollow space within. It isn’t a normal light it emits either, he immediately recognizes it as the same glow made by the darksaber, instinctively he reaches for his hip to find it but only grabs air. Looking down in search of it forcefully makes him drop down a foot into the ash.

Before he can find his footing he sinks again, another jolt down so that he’s up to his knees in ash. Frantically, he tries to hold onto something, anything, but there’s only more grainy ash, he finds no purchase as he sinks, quicker, and quicker, unable to hold on any longer he takes a deep breath, preparing for the punishing lack of oxygen he’s about to be faced with.

And then he wakes up.

Gasping, and clawing at the single sheet that lines the mattress in his bunk.

It’s a tight squeeze when he leverages himself out, falling to his knees in the cargo hold of the ship, wildly ripping his helmet off before the air can properly depressurize, giving himself a sharp pain in his temples. He’s too desperate for air to care about the headache he’s gonna have for the rest of the day.

⊹₊⟡⋆

It’s late.

The port you’ve requested boarding at isn’t one he’s familiar with. Coruscant is a large planet though, and there’s plenty of places in the galaxy that he’s never been to. As he approaches the first thing he notes is how dark it is. The entire planet is lit up, especially from a distance. The mass of cities and the vibrant nightlife keep the planet well lit. Unfortunately for him, it seems you’ve chosen the only dark patch on the entire planet. It isn’t easy to calibrate the landing because of the lack of light, he can’t see anything clearly but it appears to be completely empty so he picks a random spot and prepares himself.

The ship hovers above the crumbling refueling station, slowly descending before landing with a hiss of air. For the price attached to the job he certainly wasn’t expecting to dock in such a shitty spot. Unsure of what to expect he makes his way to the loading dock and lowers the ramp, before it even reaches the stone pathway a pair of boots land on the edge.

Instinctively his hand twitches to his blaster as he assesses the figure.

Alone, cloaked, and calm. Before him stands who he is certain must be his client. He was expecting a stony faced doctor, someone older, someone that looked like they’d spent plenty of time out in the field.

Which is why he’s taken aback by the sight of you.

Doe-eyed, looking out of place in the dark robes that adorn your body, the only out of place thing about you is the small pale scar along your jaw. In one swift motion you drag a large suitcase up onto the platform behind you.

“Worn, but efficient.” Are the first words out of your mouth as you take in the sights of the ship, as if he isn’t standing directly in front of you. “I suppose this will do.” Nodding to yourself you finally let your gaze settle in him, a smile that doesn’t quite meet your eyes adorns your face. “Hello, Mandalorian.” It’s almost posed as a question, you want confirmation that you’re in the right place despite the fact that he’s standing before you in full beskar armour.

He isn’t sure how to respond. The client information section of the listing flashes through his mind as he stares.

Imperial affiliation.

Your outfit surely suggests that but the rest of you screams inexperienced. He hasn’t ever seen someone who looks so unprepared for a field job. And he finds himself experiencing a feeling he’s only ever felt a handful of times in his life.

Surprised.

But you can’t know that.

He’s supposed to be the seasoned bounty hunter who can handle anything thrown his direction. At least that’s what you’re paying for. Convinced his voice will betray him, he only nods at you.

“Good, I’m Dr. Thorne, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Stepping further up onto the ship you hold your hand out towards him. With robotic movements he gives you a quick and firm handshake before immediately withdrawing. Even through his gloves he can feel just how cold you are.

With every passing second he’s regretting this decision more and more.

“I appreciate your punctuality.” You rock slowly, back and forth on your heels as you size him up, making no attempts at being subtle. “And you’re taller than I expected. Not an issue, just something of note.” You force a laugh but he still doesn’t speak. Partly because he isn’t the chatty type but also because he just doesn’t know what to say. Your tone is too clinical, like he’s a patient and you’re his doctor. “And you haven’t interrupted me once, which is… polite, I suppose.” He can’t decide if you’re joking so he continues to nod.

Everything about you is odd, it gives him a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. This is why he doesn’t usually take escort jobs. They require too much talking, it’s been so long since he’s had someone aboard that wasn’t a bounty he can’t even discern if this is typical conversation. You’re too clinical, too detached from your words, if it weren’t for your constant twitching and unpredictable muscle spasms he’d have thought you were a droid. He has to remind himself that you’re just a person, and he’s met plenty of people, some over twice your size, and never once felt intimidated.

With an indiscernible shiver he shakes off the feeling, after all there is no direct threat here, just discomfort, and he’s more than well equipped to handle a little discomfort.

“Would you mind directing me to my chambers so that I might deposit my belongings before we proceed?” The naivety of your statement makes him scoff, and briefly his walls break down. You’re about to be in for a rude awakening as he tilts his head to the left, the airlock doors open on a small storage compartment. Clearly a space used to store weapons or fuel, that has been cleaned and haphazardly refurbished with a cot, a steel dresser, and a storage trunk.

But you are completely unshaken.

Despite your neatly kept robes and hair pulled back is a strict tie you show no signs of distress at the tiny living space.

“Well this is easy enough.” You grunt a little, dragging your large bag forward, tossing it into the compartment before turning to face him once more, riffling around in your robe pockets and presenting him with a large satchel that jingles with the sound of credits as you hold it out politely towards him.

“You don’t seem up for conversation so I suppose we should just get on with it then.” You click your tongue, softly, it doesn’t seem like you even realized that you did it. “Perhaps I should try speaking your language. My plans are as follows; I would like safe and comfortable transportation to my desired location. When we arrive I would like you to accompany me as I conduct my research. It is nothing of great importance, more of a personal project of mine, I’d like to retrieve an artifact for my personal collection. It isn’t considered particularly valuable by any means, it’s just something significant to the niche of research that I’ve devoted my life to. While I am willing to share more information on it I’d rather not and I’d be willing to bet that you don’t want to hear it anyway so I think it would be for the best to keep it that way. I am not anticipating a need for protection, the site was condemned ages ago, but I find that preparing for the worst case scenario is best. You will accompany me. I will examine the ruins, collect samples and data, and when I’m done, we will board the ship and you will bring me back here.”

Your eyes dart down to the credits and then back up to his visor.

“70,000 credits, as promised upon arrival. With another 70,000 to be transferred electronically automatically at the end of the two week period along with a bonus for your discretion.” The end of your sentence drifts off to a whisper as you wait for him to accept.

You barely breathed during your ramblings and his brain is fighting to process everything at the same speed as your voice.

A moment of eerie silence swallows the space around them, something of significance that he can’t quite place, nor can he discern if you feel it too. A sour taste in his mouth and the feeling of bile rising in his throat, a feeling of being watched, all eyes on him. Waiting for him to make the choice, the right choice.

And as he thinks it over you react with enough tiny tells to finally let him know that you’re just as nervous.

You’re in a constant state of motion, even when you appear to be still, as if there’s something under your skin keeping you going.

But it was foolish of you to even think you could hide from him, he was trained to do this, to read a situation like this with deadly precision, despite how low stakes it might look to an outsider he can feel the weight of the situation, heavy on his chest as his eyes roam the oncoming storm that is you.

The way your jaw ticks, the subtle flex of the muscles in your cheek as you fight the urge to grind your teeth. Your nails chewed down to the quick, and the skin around them red and angry from nervous scratching and picking. The color of your undereyes is just a little too bright, you’re covering up something with makeup, almost certainly dark under eyes. The scar that runs along the bottom of your jaw is barely visible when you’re facing forward but he can tell it’s old, it healed long ago but everytime you look in the mirror you’re reminded of whatever it was that gave it to you. Oddly enough, the culmination of all of this is enough to finally relax him a bit. It’s what finally makes you human in his eyes.

You put on a good show.

At first glance he was entirely convinced that you were this mysterious, calculating Imperial doctor, but he can see through all of that with a closer look. You’re a survivor. You’re scared of whatever mission it is that you’re about to embark on, but you’re not the threat you try to discreetly present yourself as.

“Trust is expensive out here.” The stare of wide eyed innocence you give him makes up his mind as he holds his own hand out and accepts the credits. You visibly exhale when he does. “I just hope that with this, I’ve earned yours.”

The nod he gives you provides no promises, you’d be stupid to think that he trusts you, but at the very least you’re putting some trust in him.

And that’s enough to make him speak his first words to you. The question that’s been on his mind since he saw your listing.

“Where are we going?” He can immediately tell that how ragged his voice is from disuse is startling. He can’t seem to recall the last time he had to speak.

Politely, and anticipating this question you reach into your robes once more before producing a small slip of paper with coordinates neatly written on them.

“I don’t know the name of the planet, it’s old and I haven’t been able to find many records of an official title.” He’s quickly realizing that you speak like you rehearsed this all, it’s an odd, robotic, tone. It makes him want to ask more but he knows that he probably wouldn’t like any answer you gave him, the way you speak unsettles him. Instead of dwelling he tries to map out in his mind how long the trip will be from here to this mystery planet based on the coordinates.

“Should be about two days of travel, is there anything else you need before we leave?” He has rations set aside for the two of you but with the possible end date of this job being ambiguous it’s troubling to think that all you have is one bag. “I have enough rations stored away for four weeks worth of travel, with four days total in round trip travel time I’d advise you to make sure you’re properly equipped.” You aren’t looking at him anymore, instead your eyes wander and begin to study the ship around you.

“I have everything we’ll need.” He watches as your temperature rises, just a degree or two, wondering if it’s your nerves that are causing this reaction. “I’d like to leave as soon as possible.”

There’s no reason to draw this out any longer than necessary, with his pockets weighed down with his payment he makes a beeline for the bay door panel, with a deafening groan the steel doors slide shut. Ignoring the feeling of your eyes on him he pushes a series of buttons, ensuring a proper seal on the airlock. No going back now.

“Shall I join you in the cockpit? Perhaps I could properly brief you on the mission and we could exchange pleasantries.” You give him a polite smile but he shakes his head. The last thing he wants right now is more conversation with you.

“Get some sleep, it’s gonna be a long trip.” He tries to control his tone, attempting a cordial manner of speaking.

He can’t get to the cockpit quickly enough. Careful to lock the hatch behind him he starts to set the course. It’s a fifty hour trip there, fifty hours until the unknown. Setting the ship for an auto pilot trip he leans back in his chair, taking deep breaths until the blinking light on the control panel breaks him out of his silent meditation.

The ship's motion detectors.

He’s never used the security system, he’d had it installed as a sort of baby monitor for the kid but he’d never needed it. He so rarely has anyone on the ship to monitor.

He fiddles with the controls briefly until the monitor to his left hums to life with the grainy image of you, standing alone right where he left you.

As you look around the room, taking your time to note everything around you he finds himself fascinated by the sight of you. Being able to watch you from the outside makes you much more interesting.

When you finally move it isn’t too rushed to your chambers.

Instead you move slowly, drinking in the space. You lift your hand and your robe flows like water around you, and you touch the closest wall. Pacing, circling the room you brush your hand up against everything, not searching or scheming, just feeling. Mapping out the space. You pause in front of one of the many supply lockers crammed in against the interior wiring of the ship, tilting your head as if you’re listening for something. A small, private smile tugging at the corners of your mouth before you move on.

His gloved hands flip through the switches, cycling through the different feeds until you’re back on the screen, stepping lightly into a cargo hold.

You’re so careful. You don’t pry or rummage through his things, instead you just do a lap around the room, fingertips dragging along the seams of the walls that conceal panels, the cold steel of storage crates.

You linger over things like the emergency oxygen masks and the first aid kits, like you’re memorizing their placements. Everything in the room feels your featherlight touch as you slowly trace every edge and curve. He feels like he watches you move from room to room for hours until you finally make your way into your quarters. Instinctively he changes the feed again only to be met with static. A frown forming on his face until he realizes why.

When he’d purchased the ship he had to calibrate the system to his liking, and he’d marked any rooms used as sleeping quarters as private. He didn’t normally have guests on the ship but he wasn’t a creep. His thumb hovers over the manual toggle anyway, and a thought crosses his mind.

He shouldn’t be watching you, you clearly have no ill intentions. It would be wrong to keep watching.

But you’re wearing all those layered robes.

A concealed weapon isn’t just a possibility, it’s smart. And with your intelligence it should be expected.

And of course he hadn’t searched you upon boarding, you’re a paying customer, it would have been rude and might have lost him the job.

He flexes his hand.

Something about you was off, even the listing had been strange. The wise decision here would be to make sure that everything appears typical. His mind argues back and forth with itself as he tries to justify this, eventually his curiosity gets the best of him.

Just until you’re done changing, he tells himself. Just to be sure.

The feed cuts to an unblurred view of your room.

For a moment you just dig through your bag, and his jaw tightens. You pull out a few notebooks and pens, tossing them onto the cot. Your movements are so much more fluid now, without rush, more natural looking than you’d been in front of him.

Standing with your back to the camera your fingers find the ties at your waist, loosening them, the fabric falls off your shoulders. Slowly and methodically you slip off each layer, catching them before they hit the floor, and folding them neatly. It’s a long and arduous process as you go layer by layer until you’ve got a stack on your dresser and you clasp your hands together, finished.

Now revealed is a thin underlayer, a close fitted tunic and pants that end just above your knees. Clothes meant for sleeping, nothing else. Tight enough to make it obvious that you’re concealing nothing.

He tells himself again that this is all just a precaution

His throat feels terribly dry.

He should turn it off. But he can’t.

Reaching up, you undo your hair, arching yourself back in a stretch that makes his entire justification for watching you suddenly feel twisted and dirty.

There are no weapons. Nothing hidden.

Nothing but you.

And then, you froze in place.

Halfway through a groan of relief as you stretch, you turn towards the wall.

Head tilting up until your gaze is facing the camera.

Not just towards it, right at it.

Your eyes are calm, not accusatory, not shocked.

That somehow makes him feel worse. A bead of sweat sliding down his forehead and over the bridge of his nose.

And you tilt your head to the side, just a smidge. Like you’re staring right at him. Like you’re the one observing him.

He cuts the feed.

Turning the monitor off entirely as the cockpit goes silent and he’s staring at his own reflection in the now blank screen. Helmeted, emotionless, guiltless.

He certainly doesn’t feel that way, as shame is starting to set in like cement in his chest.

Leaning back in his chair he exhales slowly.

He certainly isn’t going to sleep soundly tonight.

⊹₊⟡⋆

The familiar scent of the motel room fills your head as you rush back in, slamming the door shut behind you with a panicked breath, scrambling for the lock before relaxing.

It’s a shitty place to stay, with even shittier neighbors. Your research is too important to be kept here, you know that, but you don’t have any other choice. This was and continues to be the cheapest option. Just as you’re setting your bag down your tablet across the room chimes. For the last three months you’ve felt your heart race at the sound of that notification dozens of times, only to immediately be disappointed. Tonight is no different. Your breath quickens immediately, almost to the point of hyperventilation as you dart across the room, kneeling in front of the bed as you type your password into the device.

[ YOU HAVE : 1 NEW APPLICATION - WOULD YOU LIKE TO REVIEW IT? ]

Out of habit you’re tapping the space where the “yes” icon is going to appear before it’s even there. The screen changes to the applicants guild code, but that’s not the information you’re after, your eyes skip over it the redacted information portion, you’ve already put a system in place that reveals it and you desperately search for the one word you’ve been waiting for.

And for the first time since you put out this damn listing, you find it.

Mandalorian

It feels like your heart stops, you know you shouldn’t get your hopes up, but this could be the one.

Male, 40 years of age, (estimate) combat capable, well experienced, specialties in location and extraction of bounties, Mandalorian, solo operation.

He fits all the parameters, even if they’re vague. It isn’t a guarantee that he’s the one you’ve been waiting for but you don’t even think about it as you type in your response, signing it with the name you were given during your time serving the Empire.

Dr. Thorne

You hurriedly pack everything you can into your bag before laying down, heart racing, the moment you get a response you’ll be checking out of this hell hole. If the guild member arrives and isn’t the Mandalorian in full silver with a mudhorn signet on his pauldron you’ll just turn around and try again.

…

In the morning you have an estimated arrival time and it’s all finally coming together. You tell yourself over and over again to not get ahead of yourself. It’s more than likely that you’ll be checking back into hotel hell tonight.

There’s nothing left to do at this point but wait. So that’s exactly what you do, you sit by the small window and wait for the sun to set, your eyes locked onto the clock on your tablet. Until finally, a little after ten o’clock there’s another notification chime and you know he’ll be landing soon.

You dress yourself in the only nice clothes you have left, your robes, and travel to what you know to be an abandoned space port. Pulling your cloak more tightly around yourself as the cold settles into your bones. You aren’t standing in the dark for long, soon enough there's a rush of hot air as a ship materializes out of the darkness, landing directly in front of you. You’re absolutely wired at this point. It feels like there’s an electric current running under your skin as a loud hiss fills the quiet air around you and a large ramp lowers itself to the ground and you can see the soft golden light within.

You’re too fired up to wait for it to hit the ground, careful not to lose your balance you hoist yourself up. Taking in the sights of the ship, forcing a smile, preparing yourself for the wave of defeat that will wash over you when you see him.

And then you do.

And he sees you.

And the weight of the world is lifted off your shoulders.

Your brain stops working but thankfully your mouth doesn’t, you’re on auto-pilot, introducing yourself, shaking his hand, greeting him.

Him.

Standing before you just as you’d dreamed. In a full suit of silver armour, the signature Mandalorian helmet adorns his head. He’s taller than you thought he’d be, more menacing. You aren’t scared of him though, you couldn’t be. Your eyes drift to his shoulder, the mughorn symbol visible from where you’re standing.

You finally manage to shake off the sense of awe and ask him where your chambers are and he scoffs, how odd. He nods to an open room to your left and you drag the bag carrying your entire life over, tossing it in. It’s a palace compared to the types of places you’ve been living in. It’s clean. It’s safe.

He doesn’t seem to want to talk to you yet, that’s fine, he needs to warm up to you. You just need to get him to accept the payment and then there’s no going back. You grab the credits, the precious compensation that’s going to be your salvation and hold it out towards him. When he doesn’t react, panic starts to rise like bile in your throat.

He’s just staring at you.

Suddenly you’re terrified.

Terrified that he’s changed his mind.

Terrified that he’ll want to negotiate for more money, something that you can’t afford.

Terrified that you’ve said something that’s convinced him that this isn’t going to work.

And most of all, you're terrified that he sees right through you.

That he can see this facade you’re putting on solely for his benefit, this image of a weak and helpless girl, desperately in need of help. You’ve worked too hard to look broken, like a damsel in distress, you’ll be damned if this crumbles now.

“Trust is expensive out here.” The words tumble out of you before you can stop them. Stupid! He just needs a little time, if you keep pushing him you risk losing everything before you’ve even begun.

Your heart flutters as he closes his hand around the bag.

Of course he accepted. He’s going to protect you now, you knew he was the one.

“I just hope that with this, I’ve earned yours.” You give him a much more relaxed smile. Of course he doesn’t trust you. That’s why he’s perfect. None of this would work if he trusted you immediately. It needs to be slow, gradual, and earned. It needs to be real. And with what likely awaits you at the station you know you will need that trust soon.

You know you shouldn’t push it, you should go to bed now and leave him to his work but you want him to trust you now, you want him to be everything you know he can be.

But he doesn’t want that.

He isn’t ready.

He tells you to get some sleep but you aren’t tired, how can you be expected to sleep at a time like this? You don’t argue though, and you don’t follow him when he retires to the cockpit. You know you likely won’t see him until you land so you familiarize yourself with the ship.

Taking deep breaths to ground yourself.

You can’t remember the last time you felt at ease like you do now.

You’ve spent the last decade in and out of highly hazardous working conditions, and then for a few years after that, you were in and out of the worst hotels in Coruscant. Always running from the thing that just won’t leave you be.

It’s a breath of fresh air to enter your chambers and know that you can sleep soundly tonight.

Careful not to wrinkle your only presentable clothing, you fold it all neatly, setting it aside for the days to follow. You’re ready to get into bed when the hair on the back of your neck stands up mid stretch. The all too familiar feeling of being watched.

That can’t be right, not here, not now.

Nothing should have been able to follow you here, turning and scanning the walls of your room you don’t see any obvious signs of danger.

A patch of discolored paint in the corner catches your eye. It vaguely resembles a shadow and your blood runs cold, ever so slowly you tilt your head, trying to see if it’s a trick of the light. Slowly, the feeling of being surveilled eases. It’s just paint, dark patches of paint.

It’s normal to be nervous. That’s what you tell yourself.

Good things don’t happen to you.

They never have.

You deserve to enjoy this fleeting sense of peace, for however long it lasts.

After messing around with the buttons near the door you manage to turn the lights off. Leaving you in complete and total darkness as you slide under the wool blanket that’s been left on your cot.

You have no control over the smile that creeps across your face as you deeply inhale the air on the ship, allowing yourself to savor it.

Oil, iron, gunpowder, sweat.

With the lights off and your vision completely obscured, your other senses are enhanced. You don’t just smell his sweat, you taste it. The distinct and metallic tang. Him.

A combination of flesh, and leather, and something deeper, something so uniquely him. So familiar.

Something that lit up that sharp and all consuming fire inside you. It started as a quiet hunger but has been growing for days, for weeks, for years.

You feel your pulse quicken and fight to keep your breathing steady. How are you supposed to maintain your composure when you aren’t afraid? When was the last time you didn’t feel a constant underlying sense of dread? Unable to contain yourself any longer, you whisper into the silence of your cabin. The name that you’ve been repeating in your head for ages.

“Din Djarin.”

The name that has lived only in your mind reverberates around the small space, as if the galaxy itself was whispering it to you. You’d never spoken it aloud before now. You’d been saving it for a special occasion, it had taken time to learn it, patience, a deep dive into records, and rumors. It had taken quite some time but it hadn’t been hard. Not for someone who knew where to look, not for someone who was meant to know it, not for you.

You’ve spent nearly a year on his trail, your studies, your life's work, they'd all lead to this moment. To him.

You don’t have to be afraid anymore.

He’s real, he’s here. You can feel his presence here, taste him, smell him, feel him. All of him, as he fills the space, you bury your face in the blanket and deeply inhale. The stress and the panic that have been building in your chest for Maker knows how long, starts to melt away bit by tortuous bit.

You found him.

And he’s going to save you.

a/n : I'm super super rusty so if this is bad let's blame it on that and hope it gets better lol, love y'all and thank you for reading if you made it this far <3

follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates!!

#lincolndjarin #hollow star fic #the mandalorian #the mandaloria/reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din dijarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin #slowish burn #eventual smut #strangers to lovers

144 notes · View notes

batboyblog · 6 months ago

Note

I fundamentally disagree with your take that any future/ongoing users of TikTok are supporting or enabling trump.

We don’t use TikTok or any other social platform because of the CEO. We use social media because of the communities we form and love.

Obviously trump wants it back because it helped his election campaign, but that doesn’t negate every positive collective action or community that formed on the app. Everything good also has bad, because as the saying goes, there is no ethical consumption under capitalism. We can try to be good, but we can’t only support ethical companies.

Also, what about international users? I’m Australian, and trump impacts Australian politics directly and indirectly, but does me using TikTok support him? It’s still an independent company.

Given the ban was done by congress, not the executive, I have every reason to believe that a Harris/democrat office would also make efforts to stop the ban. It’s easy political points.

I'm gonna try to be nice, which given my mood today, the impending Trumpalypse and the hostage release today have me in a bad mood.

Sooooo I have to reject the idea that helping re-elect Trump could ever be balanced out by any other "good", if such good even exists, that any app, person, or organization does.

before anyone jumps in to smugly tell me they're not an American so Trump being the American President doesn't matter, I'll remind you, we all live on the same planet. One thats getting warmer? in case you hadn't noticed. 2024 was the first year on record to breach the 1.5 degree warming mark that is very bad news. President Biden passed the biggest climate action bill that any government anywhere on earth ever ever has passed. Trump has pledged to repeal that law, and also hold back all the money in it not already spent.

as you can see under Biden we're on goal through 2030, and then more and different policies would be needed to get us where we need to go, which Biden team in the dying days of his administration has set not that Trump will follow through.

so point being helping re-elect Trump might have doomed the planet so idk about anything "good" TikTok could possibly do to make up for being Responsible or the single biggest climate disaster in human history.

any ways, as a Jew when I think of TikTok I think antisemitism

"Jewish teens say life on TikTok comes with anti-Semitism" 2020

"Sliding Through: Spreading Antisemitism on TikTok by Exploiting Moderation Gaps" 2023

"How fast does TikTok send users down the antisemitic rabbit hole?" 2024

being on the internet right now as a Jewish person is fucking wild, buck wild, seeing people in their teens and 20s say NAZI, old school, 1940s Nazi shit on-line, in videos with their faces, it is everywhere and TikTok is some of the worst of it.

on top of which TikTok is spoon feeding massive amount of disinformation to users all the time, from mental health, to Covid Vaccines, to conspiracy theories that are effecting the real world. And studies show its actively hurting teens, pushing them toward self harm

speaking of Australia, its very clear that China is REALLY interested in influencing your country seeking to shift Australian public opinion against Taiwan and in favor of China, as well as push the country toward a more isolationist view. Also they're using data from not just TikTok but other apps to track people, and actively kidnap Chinese nationals in Australia who offend Xi's government. That's a wider problem than just TikTok of course, but it's super fucking scary.

So sorry the app you like is getting the axe in the US? I guess? but short form video in and of itself might be bad for your health. Apps like TikTok don't allow you to do what I've done here, offer links and data to back up what I'm saying so fact checking and accountability is basically 0. Finally there's a lot of evidence that TikTok has put its finger on the scale to push propaganda for Trump, for Xi and generally destabilize the world.

finally, what community? watching videos fed to you by a computer isn't a connection, its certainly not a conversation.

oh also "there is no ethical consumption under capitalism" is not some magical spell, it doesn't do away with the need to do good in the world, its meant to say don't let perfect be the enemy of good, whats the least bad option, nothing is flawless, but that doesn't mean going on to the app who's parting message to America was "big good daddy Trump gonna come save us" like fuck man thats bad

#politics #political #US politics #australian politics #TikTok #TikTok ban #China #Trump #xi jinping #ask #answer

82 notes · View notes

inellz · 6 months ago

Text

「 ✦ academic rivals ✦ 」

quackity x reader

── .✦ a little help w ai — first tumblr post !:)

── .✦ synopsis ; You and Quackity or known as Alexis, had been academic rivals ever since the start of high school. however, a school field trip during your sophomore year changed everything.

You’d been academic rivals with Alexis since the very first day of high school. The two of you shared nearly every class, constantly fighting for the top spot. Whether it was stealing the teacher’s questions, comparing test scores, or arguing over who had the better project, the competition between you was fierce.

If there was one thing you were sure about, it was that Alex was insufferable.

And yet, somehow, the school field trip during your sophomore year changed everything.

The trip was to the local nature reserve, a lush green sanctuary filled with trails, streams, and wildlife. The goal was to collect data and samples for your biology project. You were excited… until you saw the seating arrangement for the bus.

Your name was right next to his.

“No way,” you muttered, staring at the paper.

“Looks like we’re stuck together,” Quackity said, appearing behind you with his trademark smirk. “Try not to get too jealous of my field notes.”

You rolled your eyes. “Try not to copy mine.”

The two of you boarded the bus, sitting side by side for the first time ever. At first, the tension was thick. He had his earbuds in, and you were pretending to be interested in the scenery outside. But eventually, the silence became unbearable.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, pulling out one of his earbuds. “Do you think we’re gonna see anything cool today? Like frogs or something?”

You glanced at him, surprised he was trying to make conversation. “I mean, maybe. They did say there’s a stream nearby.”

“Cool. Frogs are, like, underrated,” he said, leaning back in his seat.

You blinked, caught off guard by his casual statement. “You think frogs are underrated?”

“Yeah. They’re chill. What, you don’t agree?”

“I mean, I guess?” you replied, a laugh escaping your lips. “I’ve never thought about it that much.”

From there, the conversation snowballed. You started talking about biology, then transitioned to random topics like favorite snacks, movies, and the most embarrassing moments you’d had in class. By the time the bus pulled up to the nature reserve, you realized you were actually enjoying talking to him.

The day at the reserve was surprisingly fun. You and Quackity were paired up for most of the activities, collecting water samples and jotting down observations.

At one point, while sitting on a rock by the stream, he hesitated before saying, “Can I tell you something? Like… something no one else knows?”

You raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t some elaborate plan to distract me from getting better notes, is it?”

“No, I’m serious,” he said, his tone softer than usual.

“Alright,” you said, leaning in slightly. “What is it?”

He glanced around to make sure no one else was nearby before whispering, “I have a Twitch channel.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s kind of a secret. I haven’t told anyone at school. I don’t know… I guess I’m just scared people will think it’s dumb.”

You stared at him, surprised by his vulnerability. “Why would anyone think it’s dumb? That’s actually really cool.”

“You think so?” he asked, his eyes lighting up.

“Yeah,” you said with a small smile. “I mean, I’d probably make fun of you if you were bad at it, but—“

“Wow, thanks,” he interrupted, laughing.

“But seriously,” you continued, “it’s awesome. You should be proud of it.”

For the rest of the trip, you found yourself seeing Quackity in a new light. He wasn’t just your rival anymore—he was someone who shared the same passion for learning, someone who could make you laugh, someone who wasn’t afraid to show a more vulnerable side.

By the time the bus ride back started, the two of you were laughing so much that the teacher had to shush you.

“Didn’t think I’d ever say this,” he said as the bus pulled into the school parking lot, “but I had fun today. With you.”

“Same,” you admitted, your cheeks warming.

From that day on, things between you and Quackity were different. You still competed in class, but the rivalry felt less intense, more playful. And every now and then, you’d catch him sneaking a glance your way, his smirk replaced with a softer expression.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that somewhere between the frogs, the stream, and that secret Twitch confession, you’d started to like him. And judging by the way he stuck around after school to talk to you more often, you had a feeling he felt the same.

#quackity x reader #quackity fanfic #karmaland #qsmp quackity #las nevadas #qsmp #dsmp #quackity #mcyt

67 notes · View notes

the-ellia-west · 1 month ago

Text

-Project Ghost Town-

Transcription: Log #276 - 1999

Researcher #2 - Violet Solei Hill-

-Log-

“Signing in, Violet Hill, 9am on the Dot, Log Two hundred and Seventy nine, December Twenty-eighth, nineteen ninety nine. It’s cold down here. Adam, Aludra, and Jasmine are off collecting more samples with Quill, Janus is… sulking in his tent or something, Selene is on guard just outside, and Lucas is still asleep. Breakfast was an hour ago but I don’t have the heart to wake him.” *Sigh* “The Rocks down here almost don’t seem strange anymore. For the Psych Evals, everything seems… normal. I can’t really forget the look on everyone’s face when Quill told us we wouldn’t be going home for Christmas. I got a good amount of data just based off that. Adam was disappointed but still chipper, trying to keep everybody’s spirits up, Aludra looked resigned, Selene and Jasmine sad but almost expecting it, Lucas almost cried, and Janus was pissed, threw a rock at Quill and started shouting something about the government and dying down here. I almost feel bad.”

“Research is slow, We’re almost through the barrier. It seems to be made of some sort of Alloy of Nickel, highly responsive to radio waves. At this rate we’ll get in there by March next year… I can’t believe a new Century is starting out there. Whatever it takes to keep the people safe. That’s what I tell Quill, he echoes the sentiment. Though it’s getting harder to believe. Since We found Noah’s body… Nothing’s really been the same. Everybody’s been more despondent, Adam brushes off talking about his feelings, Janus has been eating more finally, it would be worrying, but he doesn’t seem to be getting any worse in physical condition so I’ll keep an eye on him but it’s not too much of a concern for now, Lucas cries over his work and has been sleeping a lot more, poor kid… I wish I’d found the body. I told Noah not to explore without safety equipment… God… Fuck… We have to figure out what’s going on down here, we have to make sure the people are safe.”

“Quill and I agree on one thing, We have to see this through to the end. I’m worried about the others. Selene and Quill have been trained in this kind of thing, But Lucas and Janus are just kids… and Adam’s trying to pretend like nothing in the world bothers him. Aludra is angry, Jasmine tries not to let us see her cry. We can do it though. All we have to do is break through the last of the rock and gather the last of the samples from inside, and we’ll be home free! Maybe I shouldn’t worry about the others so much… No, this is my log. I say what I want. It’s my job to keep them in top condition, I have to do this, it’s my responsibility, they’re all my responsibility. It’s weighing on me a little, But I’m going to put it here so I can come back to it later. My top three concerns are Janus, Lucas, and Adam. Apparently they don’t get the same privilege of talking things out with their agent. Quill says he was never given that order.”

“Since I met Adam, before this whole ordeal, he’s been basically a big Puppy. Wants to protect us, wants to do his best and make his family proud. He’s always had insecurities, but he promised me when we got picked for the mission that he’d protect me. Promised he’d always be there as a shoulder to lean on. But he won’t lean back on me when I ask him what’s wrong. He’s buried himself in his work and he seems like he’s only working so he can get out. He wakes up early to make breakfast, gives us hugs in the morning, offers to fix up our uniforms, clean out the lab supplies. First one there and last to leave. Always was a hard worker. But he’s… faltering. Maybe it’s burnout, maybe fear, but his hands shake and he drops the test tubes, pricks himself with needles, forgets ingredients in the food… I just want him to go home and sleep for a Long time. He’s earned it. He’s the only one who can convince Jan to come outside, which lately he’s been learning is best done with offerings, and he always brings him something. Coffee is the best motivator apparently.”

“Speaking of whom, Janus… he never was one for Patience. Lucas is the only one younger than him, and he’s angry about it. I’ve noticed in all the Psych evals and the way he looks at us. I think he just doesn’t want to be treated like a child. He’s smart, and of all of us, he’s the best at flying under the radar. Profiles said he was a smoker, so I can see it if that’s a reason he’s so annoyed. But it’s almost more than that. He’s briefly joked about his mother before he saw the rest of our faces and shut up quickly. He used to skip meals and sigh whenever we asked something of him, but he was at least mostly cooperative. Lately he’s… irritable and constantly on the verge of explosive rage episodes, throws things around, cusses out some of us when we ask him for something. Al told me the other day she wants to hit him. Which… I suppose is understandable, But I can see something under there. He’s not just angry, he’s Scared. He hides it very cleverly, but he hasn’t brought any of his own clothes or items and he get irritable when any of us mention money. I can’t tell if the more recent obsession with food has something to do with it, but he hides everything he gets from us, and I think it might be due to him coming from a poorer town. Quill says he sneaks off at night sometimes. I’m worried about him, I’ll have to look deeper into it.”

“Lucas is showing early signs of depression and grief. Noah was… Lucas was the one who wandered ahead and that scream… I don’t know. Lucas is a good kid, he’s eager to help, and always seems grateful for any compliment or validation. He and Janus share a tent and the two… don’t really mix well. Lucas tries his best to be considerate and offers to help Jan with his work, or asks to see something, and Jan yells at him. It’s hard to balance them when I know they both need help. Luc apologizes a lot and he’s always ready with the supplies we need, He refuses to tell us anything but I’ve found him crying alone several times, Everything he does is like an inverse of Janus, he’s stopped eating, he’s panicking and trying to help more and more. He’s fidgety, paranoid, jumpy, and seems to be starting to see things? He told me he just thought he saw a spider a few times, and every time Adam hugs him, he doesn’t want to let go. I wonder if there’s a connection there… I want to keep them all safe… I have to…

“Quill is the only one here I can really trust with these things, He’s bound by a contract. Under all that grit, he’s a pretty nice guy. I wonder what kind of person he’d be under different circumstances. He complains to me about Selene's coffee, but that's the closest he gets to acting like a real person. I think it's a part of his training. He told me he likes movies yesterday. I'm close to cracking him, I know it. Once we figure out what's going on here, I'd like to take him to get real coffee, just to see what he really thinks.”

-End Log-

@elronthemage @yolbert @gekowo

#the man with a thousand eyes: initiation

13 notes · View notes

possumcollege · 1 year ago

Text

NOBODY needs to be defending these people. Major publishers, studios, streaming services, Tesla, Apple, Adobe, Amazon, social media companies- there isnt a single altruistic bone caught in their teeth. Profit from the output of exploited and captive labor IS their product now. When their contacts look like the one in question, the company is clearly stating that shareholders are the customers, not us!

Why else would it be anything but a stupid idea for Amazon to just nuke the majority of Comixology's self-published titles when they consolidated their services? If our experience was really foremost in their minds, why would they repeatedly purge, censor, demonitize, bury, and delete popular accounts with robust followings if not to allay the moral brainworms of shareholders and investors?

Forfeiting rights to our IP is not a "shitty deal," it's surrendering any potential ability to make money off of your own creative work. It's selling your property to a board of accountants to pitch into a portfolio. It's theirs to trot out as long as it's profitable and bury the instant its projected profit dips too close to the cost of maintenance. Hell, we've seen services drop popular series just because their projected profits started to flatten out! Mothballing it also has the added bonus of removing it from the market to further minimize potential competition. Like how there just weren't spider man movies for ages because the owner of the property didn't think it was worth developing but worth too much to sell.

They will make more money from suing you for trying to reclaim IP they mothballed than you did selling it to them in the first place. I guaranteee their budget for lawsuits is a lot deeper than the one they pay their "original" artists from.

By virtue of being a big, profitable, corporation, "their" IP is going to have an astronomically higher value in a court of law than any individual creator. The financial "damage" will be higher for infringing on their copyrights than any amount you can claim on your own. When it becomes theirs, their connections, their infrastructure, their reputation makes it an asset with much more value than you or I can possibly claim. So if you try to steal a bite back from them it's a bite of a *potentially* multimillion-dollar series. In their eyes, they bought the totality of your work, which you agreed was worth the price they gave you. It's value becomes more dependent on who owns it than whether it's even good.

You may not have the same potential to become flash-in-the-pan, short-term succesful without their resources, but you will still own your rights to distribute, alter, preserve, promote, and negotiate your share if you still own your work. That is worth everything as a creator who is passionate about what you've made and committed to protecting it.

The most effective power we can exercise as artists is our ability to say, "no" when someone else wants to pay us a disadvantageous fraction of our worth. You may lose potentially lucrative opportunities but "opportunities" presented by companies like Facebook or Twitter, whose real product is a platform for ads and data collection, with content as bait, are not opportunities to thrive on as independent artists. This specifically is an opportunity for the company to acquire property.

The myth that the publisher's strength is something for us to exploit, without them getting the lion's share is a trap that they feed from at will.

People like the poster up top are opportunists who see the process as a pipeline towards trading low-investment content for financial treats and maybe a share of ad revive. They're stalking horses for companies to exploit more talented but less experienced artists who are facing a daunting and overwhelming market where their work becomes harder and harder to show, let alone sell. A quick deal may feel like a win but it's selling the cow to save money on bottling the milk. Artists like this serve the publisher by making it seem like signing away your rights are just a necessary part of the game. However it's a game they are playing with exceedingly cheap stakes that weren't going to succeed on their own merit. So what if Mr. Business Perspective loses rights to his sexy Mario Bros. parody to a huge company? The point was always to unload it because it's a product, a bartering chip, a trinket. He's a Business Man, so he sees tactics that maximize profits to the business as maximizing their ability to buy whatever shiny tripe he cranks out. The business is his customer, not the reader. The business is his ally, not the creative community. Fuck him and fuck anyone who tells you the exposure is worth a damn if you don't retain rights to your work.

#comics #rant

116 notes · View notes

cyle · 2 years ago

Note

Hi, I love hearing about the scale and magnitude of Tumblr. Are there any numbers you could share with us nerds? Daily users, daily new posts, daily reblogs, whatever you're allowed to share. Because, yeah, even if there's always something new to discover, it does tend to feel like I'm in a bubble or some sort of echo chamber, and you have said that users like us (however you name the chatty, bloggy, unhinged type of user, you know what I'm talking about) are the lowest percent, so, like, what even IS going on at Tumblr day round? Are there a bajillion taylor swift and K-pop blogs just uploading GIFs without having conversations? A thousand Turkish users uploading pics of their day to no followers like it's Instagram?

It feels like we're the top of an iceberg made of an eldrich sized collection of isolated communities, light years away from one another, with completely unrelated cultures and uses.

Can you share numbers? Can you share what the average user/blog/post is like? Anything else you would like to share?

i don't feel comfortable sharing most numbers, but we do share posts created per day on our About page, along with a couple of other numbers, like the total number of blogs on tumblr and how many blogs are created per day. tumblr is still a bit distinct from other social media (and blogging) platforms in terms of average user behavior.

we have millions of daily active users, and most of them aren't posting anything at all. but the percentage of people posting is higher than the typical assumed 1% rule of creation-versus-consumption, which is nice. the reblog-to-original-post ratio is like... 8 to 1 last time i checked. and likes-to-reblogs is like 10 to 1 or higher, at certain parts of the day.

most people on tumblr are "lurkers" who use the like button a lot, and sporadically reblog. also, most people only see ~25 posts or so per day, even if they have hundreds to see in their Following feed, which is why "Best Stuff First" is actually an important and used setting for many people. and the For You feed is similarly used and enjoyed way, way more than the typical old school tumblr power user would believe.

and yes, most content being posted are images, and a lot of it is stuff like taylor swift and kpop. if you go to the Explore Trending page logged out (like in an incognito window), you do get a sense for what's circulating around the platform. same with the Popular Reblogs dashboard tab.

regardless, even for me, who can look at this data in aggregate all day, it's impossible to get a birds-eye view of what's truly happening across the platform, let alone make sense of it. it's like trying to look at a city full of people and make broad strokes generalizations about it; sure, you can, but there's so much missed nuance that the numbers can't tell a story about.

166 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 2 months ago

Text

On Jan. 29, 2022, Sir Michael Morgan Jr., an 18-year-old member of the Muscogee Nation, shot and killed Isaiah Jones, also 18, in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Morgan couldn’t legally own a handgun, so he had borrowed one—a 9 mm semi-automatic Canik pistol with room for 19 rounds of fire.

The shooting coincided with the United States’ peak COVID-19 outbreak, when Americans were buying guns in record quantities and those guns were turning up at crime scenes at record pace. But as inflation rose and some U.S. factories closed for pandemic lockdowns, guns were increasingly imported from countries where production was cheaper and uninterrupted.

Leading that trend was Turkey, which since 2021 has been the United States’ top gun exporter. And top among Turkish brands is Canik, owned by the parent company Samsun Yurt Savunma (SYS).

At the time of Jones’s murder, the Canik pistol had become a hot commodity, uniquely suited for the growing U.S. market. Gun designers and marketers were trying to expand their customer base among women, children, and Black consumers like Morgan and Jones, and Canik’s 9 mm pistol—designed for small hands, with an easy-to-use trigger and a light frame—was ideal for a shooter with little experience. More importantly, the Canik pistol was cheap, usually costing less than $400.

“Turkey kind of occupies this niche all on their own,” Iain Harrison, a marksman and editor in chief of Recoil magazine, told Foreign Policy. While Turkish manufacturers’ price points compare with lower-quality guns from countries with less developed industries, “quality-wise, even despite the price, they’re right up there with the European guys.”

Though U.S. gun sales have dropped since their peak in 2020 and SYS’s competitors’ sales have largely shrunk, SYS’s brands are growing beyond their pre-pandemic numbers. The company says it can produce up to 460,000 9 mm pistols a year, which would make it second in production after the German giant Sig Sauer—but, crucially, at half the sales price.

Turkish companies’ success in the United States is partly due to their pivot to producing semi-automatic 9 mm pistols—a type of gun that has been linked to gun violence, which disproportionately affects poor neighborhoods. Of the guns traced to crime scenes in 2023, 74 percent were pistols, according to the U.S. Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives (ATF); almost half of those were 9 mm. While information on the makes of these guns is spotty, in a recent study by Everytown for Gun Safety that collected data from 34 cities, four of the 10 most commonly traced brands in 2023 were foreign, including those marked Century Arms, Canik’s importer.

“It’s pretty simple; economic factors influence firearm purchases,” said Sarah Burd-Sharps, former senior director of research at Everytown for Gun Safety. “More access to very cheap guns equals more potential for harm.”

Cheap foreign guns have outperformed local ones in the United States before, but this is the first time that a country with such a young industry and such low production costs has done so well. Further, as U.S. tariffs stand to jolt prices up across the board, Turkish guns may be spared from the biggest hikes.

To those who see gun ownership as a right to self-defense, the popularity of Turkish guns marks a step toward expanding access and diversifying options. But to those who worry that high gun supply spells more harm, it may contribute not only to a more violent United States, but to a more violent world.

Ankara invested little in modernizing its small arms manufacturing prior to the 1990s, when war against Kurdish guerrillas created a need for more sophisticated weapons. The state-owned Mechanical and Chemical Industry Corporation (MKE) distributed permits to factory owners, formalizing pockets of a sprawling gun cottage industry.

SYS was the most ambitious of Turkey’s young firms. The family patriarch, Huseyin Cahit Aral, had made a fortune as an industrialist, founding Turkey’s first fruit juice and frozen food factories. His son Zafer bought a small arms workshop in 1998 and, through partnerships with national and multinational defense companies, grew it into a multi-campus, high-tech operation.

This transformation was possible in part because of reforms beginning in 2004 by then-Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan that aimed to free Turkey’s defense industry from its dependence on Western firms. In this effort, he has largely succeeded. The defense and trade ministries now extend subsidies, marketing support, and favorable loans to enterprising Turkish defense companies and reward them with hefty contracts to arm the military and police.

By the 2010s, boosted by growing gun ownership at home, Turkish firearm companies started eyeing the U.S. market. In 2012, SYS representatives traveled to the Las Vegas SHOT Show, where they met with Century International Arms, the United States’ biggest surplus gun importer. The two agreed to try out a partnership in which Century Arms would help SYS understand American tastes and navigate the legal landscape.

To start, Century Arms executives sent a wish list to SYS engineers of pistol features that would please American gun buyers. The pistols based on these designs sold well, and the profits were reinvested into better engineering.

Canik pistols are now Century Arms’s bestselling gun. And Turkish brands, once marginal, have stacked up multiple industry awards. They have their own fan groups and dedicated forums, and their stands at gun shows bring in loyal crowds.

“I think this is a very beautiful example of a symbiotic relationship,” Adam Ruonala, vice president of marketing and business development for Century Arms, told FP.

The United States has generally prohibited gun imports since 1968, following President John F. Kennedy’s assassination using an Italian Carcano rifle. But this prohibition has only had two major updates since then, and carve-outs remain for guns used for “sporting purposes”—a definition importers quickly found ways of expanding and manipulating to include certain military-style models.

Because of the United States’ patchwork gun laws, some models can be imported but only sold in certain states. Some Turkish semi-automatic pistols are banned in a handful of states because of their large magazine capacity, but dealers simply sell the same gun there with smaller magazines. (Some models, such as several by Austria’s Glock, can even be converted into fully automatic weapons with a cheap but illegal switching device.)

Even guns that fail the “sporting purposes” import test can eventually be sold in the United States. One way of doing this is for a gun maker to import the parts and assemble them locally with a minimum number of U.S.-made parts. The other way is for the foreign company to open a factory in the United States to bypass the compliance process entirely.

In 2022, when its new pistol model did not pass the import test, SYS subsidiary Canik USA decided to build its first U.S. factory in Florida and bypass import rules altogether. The factory, which opened in December, has started production with this Canik pistol model and will eventually branch out to heavy machine guns and medium-caliber cannons.

With this move, SYS joins other foreign companies that have onshored production, including Germany’s Sig Sauer, Austria’s Glock, Israel’s IWI, and Brazil’s Taurus. By opening American factories, these companies now have better odds of winning big U.S. government contracts and an easier process for making military-style models, whose sale and manufacture are often much less controlled at U.S. bases than in their home countries.

This onshoring not only deflates companies’ importation figures, but it also obscures the fact that revenues generated in U.S. headquarters eventually cycle back to these companies’ home countries—and their national defense industries.

Last year, SYS brought in $190 million, more than three times the peak amount of U.S. security assistance to Turkey. Washington reduced this assistance in 2020 as it blocked arms exports and sanctioned Turkey for buying a Russian S-400 missile system. Today, even as U.S. defense sanctions remain, American gun buyers are still, in a way, helping fund Turkish companies’ military weapons production, such as SYS’s cannons and turrets and Sarsilmaz’s drone systems and killer robots.

Turkey avoids selling such conventional arms to U.N.-sanctioned countries—with some exceptions—but its small arms sales are tougher to track and regulate. Top gun-producing countries such as the United States and Germany report their firearms sales regularly and even monitor where they end up to help crack down on trafficking; Turkey does not. It also has not yet ratified the U.N.’s Arms Trade Treaty, which bans the sale of both conventional and small arms to countries where there is a “substantial risk” that they will be used in human rights violations.

Total Turkish firearms sales abroad are therefore unknown, but SYS and Sarsilmaz reports show that Turkish handguns have been sold to police and military forces in Pakistan, Egypt, Sudan, Iraq, and the Philippines. They have also shown up in smuggled stockpiles in embargoed countries such as Burkina Faso, Chad, and Libya, according to Interpol and U.N. reports.

Turkish semi-automatic shotguns have also dominated legal gun sales in various conflict areas. Miles Vining, a defense consultant who previously researched small arms in the Middle East, said that he saw Turkish shotguns “all over the place” in Afghanistan, Iraq, Myanmar, and Syria. He said that to criminal actors and insurgents, buying these guns is a “no-brainer” because of their low price and accessibility, and because they have military-esque features such as pistol grips and collapsible buttstocks.

“They occupy a big part of these markets because oftentimes they’re some of the only legal firearms that civilians can have per the books,” Vining said. Not only do these authoritarian countries impose strict gun control on their populations, but arms embargoes prevent them from buying guns from abroad, with the exception of shotguns, whose sale is legal almost everywhere.

The spread of cheap Turkish guns—to militaries, rebel groups, and criminal gangs around the world—may stem just as much from weak trafficking enforcement as from weak gun control in the United States, which has lifted these brands’ prestige and profits. Tightening U.S. gun laws is certainly more straightforward than tightening international regulation; however, it has proved elusive even to leaders who want to make changes.

U.S. President Donald Trump’s administration, however, might be the first in more than three decades to shake up the flow of foreign guns. In Trump’s first term, the associate deputy director of the ATF had proposed bringing the “sporting” category up to date with action sports, which currently embrace AR-15s and AK-47s.

But this time around, Trump’s presidency may end up upsetting U.S. gun makers more than it rewards them. The ATF is expecting dramatic slashes to its budget, personnel, and purview, perhaps even closure. This may cause a de facto green light for all gun imports, but more likely confusion and backlog for those awaiting arrival.

Moreover, ongoing trade uncertainty is forcing globalized firearms supply chains to untangle themselves from important steel and parts importers, including Canada, China, and Mexico, which will likely drive prices up and sales down. Amid the prospect of uneven worldwide tariffs, the price of European and American firearms stand to climb, just as Turkish guns—which expect only a baseline 10 percent tariff and are made of locally produced steel—are positioned to keep prices low.

While Trump may hope that tariffs will onshore foreign gun manufacturing, they may instead shift the advantage to gun makers less affected by rising costs and relocations. If that is the case, then Turkish companies will not only weather the trade war, but they may also emerge with an even wider lead.

5 notes · View notes

game-boy-pocket · 4 months ago

Text

Today I beat Super Mario Galaxy 2

I knocked another mainline game out of my 40 game challenge. This is another game I have not played in a very long time, at least not for any decent length of time. Not sure why, this game is brilliant, and for the longest time I found myself saying it was better than the original Galaxy... upon revisiting... I'm not so sure I would make that claim, although I do think it's better than Galaxy in some ways. Suppose I would say "on par"

Why the sudden drop in opinion? Well it's got a bit of a loss for atmosphere. Galaxy leaned in on the outer space theme but Galaxy 2 just felt more like traditional Mario with a gravity gimmick.

Actually, when I was playing this, I had forgotten how much of the DNA this game shared with the 3D Land and 3D World games. You had the beep block levels, the flip switches, the cosmic clones that follow your movements, and carried over from the last game is the general 3D nature of the thing. That's not a bad thing, I feel like I prefer Mario to be linear than sandboxy. And I do think Galaxy 2 actually pulled off a lot of those ideas from later Mario games better... for example, beep blocks remember what was on them when they disappear and re-appear. Pretty sure in 3D Land/World, anything on top of the beep blocks will just disappear.

And Yoshi, I forgot how great he was in this game, this should be the standard for Yoshi in 3D, he's faster than both Mario and Luigi, his tongue can be aimed, he's got the flutter jump, and he's got some cool power ups, and depending on what hits him, he will either run in a panic or just disappear outright, making him not so much of an "unlimited second hint", besides that, Mario takes a hit point off if he gets hit. He's no shield.

By the way, when I say I beat the game, I mean I beat everything... my Wii that I played Mario Galaxy 2 on died many years ago. I had no save data... and so...

I got all the green stars, AND beat that..... MONSTER of a final level. I don't want to say how many hours I was at it. I learned some tricks that made it easier, but it was still tedious and the hoard of hammer bros at the end made my jaw clench.

I got all the Green Stars with Luigi, naturally. I love how this game handled post game, for the most part, as well as it handled Luigi. Galaxy 1 just let you play the whole game again as Luigi, which you had to do to get that final 121st star, for either character. But Galaxy 2 has Luigi just show up sometimes and let you switch to him if you want, and allows you to do it whenever you want when you beat Bowser, and instead of just replaying the whole game, the world has a scavenger hunt for green stars randomly hidden in each area. Some of them are pretty deviously hidden though. I used a guide, though I would have looked harder on my own if I wasn't trying to get 40 games done in a year.

There are a few annoyances I have with the game, namely that you have to beat Bowser a second time to get the green stars to even appear, and you need to get 9999 star bits to unlock the secret final level. This feels like the first Mario that did the whole "let's hide the most challenging stuff till after the final boss" which kind of bothers me, I like the final boss to really be the last thing I do rather than it being a thing i'm forced to do to get to the more challenging stuff. Never really liked when Mario games did that.

But ah, better or on par with Galaxy 1, Super Mario Galaxy 2 is a 10/10 game, and I do think it's very unfair that Nintendo didn't port this with the 3D All-Stars collection. Who knows, maybe we'll see a 3D All-Stars 2 some day.

#pocket plays

7 notes · View notes

supernova41st · 1 year ago

Text

Vox x Daughter!Android! Reader

Chapter 2: Empathy

Ch.1 Ch.2

Warnings: Swearing

A/n: so this is kinda a continuation of a rlly old fic I made a few months ago. I edited it a bit to make it look more like my new style of writing so make sure to read that! Also idk anything about computers so most of this stuff is just stuff I pulled out my ass 😻

Robot vocab-☆♡~!!•?

Third POV:

“Step on here.” Vox says out loud, tapping your oval shaped eyes, glowing blue. Your light blinks a bit at him, while you lift your head in order to face him, still collecting data on everything around you. The floor, the walls, the wires, your feet, Vox. Everything felt so new yet so familiar, you knew everything as well as nothing at all.

Vox sighs out of annoyance, that the robot that he had been working on for years is being quite unresponsive. But of course, he can’t just throw you out of all things away for such a small flaw. To him, you were bigger than his other products, you were a spectacle.

Vox eventually just decides to grab you by the back of your neck, and places you on the charging system for you. Like a mother cat lifting her babies by the neck. You then hear a small click beneath you, as the area around you glows. While Vox stands right next to you, his hands clasped behind his back.

“AW.77//FOUND”

Your head snaps at the voice that comes as soon as the square glows. “Don’t be frightened my failure of a friend, this is just a test! You’ll be in and out in no time.” Vox says in his regular swingy tone. “Now we just gotta see if your basic stuff is there, Yknow just to see if I’m not gonna have to worry about you for the next few years. Again.” Oof, he sounds a bit irritated on that last part. I mean who wouldn’t be after spending hours upon hours on an ai that can’t even respond to you.

“4ARM//:FIREARM”

Your left arm is then lifted by some sort of force that took over your body, then revealing a firearm of some sort opening from underneath your forearm. “Oh shit!! I forgot I added that..” Vox laughs, tapping at the muzzle of the weapon. The socket begins to close as the voice comes in again.

“VOICEBOX//:220”

“☆”, high pitched beep comes from the speaker that is laid in your chest. Vox eyes widen a bit, realizing that he had forgotten to finish up your voice file. Now you can only speak in beeps. “✿$~?” You ask, (I think..) “Fuck, no wonder you couldn’t respond. Alright let’s get you off” Vox then recreates the same scene he did putting you on the square, now removing you.

“You know what? Why don’t you stay here while I go grab my dead friend Velvet to get you some clothes for your naked self!!” Vox asks, waiting for a response as if he was gonna receive one. All he gets is two glowing ovals staring at him, “groan okay I’ll take you with me. Not like you have much to do here anyways”

Vox drags you the towers main elevator, then getting to Velvettes floor where she was screaming at her designers as usual. “Velvette?” Vox calls out calmly as if she wasn’t yelling at the top of her lungs. “Oh! Thank goodness you’re here Mr v.” She says sarcastically. “What do you need? And make it fast. I have a show to do in 2 hours and my models aren’t here yet.” Velvet exclaims.

“Well, I have a new model for you.” Vox nudges you a bit to take a step ahead to present you to Velvette. Velvette raises a brow, clearly unamused at vox’s ‘model’. “The fuck is this? Do I look like I make clothes for Claires?” Velvette complains while poking your fairly large metal head. Vox clicks his tongue, “okay well she isn’t supposed to be a model, she’s a project I’ve been working on and I just need her in some clothes.” He admits, holding his hands behind his back.

Velvette, still in her unamused look, sighs. “Yeah sure I’ll find her something.” Velvette then claps her hands twice before yelling, “MELISSA, THE STAGE, NOW!!” Her dear model steps onto the plush step up chair to try on outfits while Velvette snaps her fingers in order to show off the clothes she has in store for Voxs ‘project’. A short pink sundress poofs onto Velvettes model, Vox immediately cringing at the flashiness of the dress.

“How about this one? It was apart of my summer collection a few months ago” Velvette grins waiting for Vox’s response. “Hmm, let’s uhh look at more!” Velvette shrugs snapping her fingers again, showing a white thigh length dress, folded on the chest to be shoulderless, completed with a blue belt. “Oo this one’s cute innit? I bet your little friend would love it.”

Vox shrugs, he didn’t really care about the aesthetics, just as long as it covered his ‘projects’ body. “I’ll take it!” Vox says proudly, Velvette snaps her fingers, the outfit appearing right in her hands on a hanger. “Here ya go luv, tell your project I said you’re welcome” Velvette chirps. “Speaking of which, where did the cheeky little bugger go?”

Vox looks around a bit, before laying his eyes on you, who’s now covered in large unrolled sheets of fabrics and threat. “Hey! I had those organized!” Velvette yells. Vox, like a panicked parent, runs towards you to grab you by the wrist. “I’m so sorry Velvette! She’s still getting use to this place Yknow” Vox says with a large smile on his face. “Well then get er’ out of here! I don’t need her ‘getting use to’ anything around here” Vox makes a poker face at her, before dragging you to the elevator.

“Are you serious? You could’ve gotten damaged out there! I mean my work could’ve been a huge waste if one of those things fell directly on you!!” He yells. You completely ignoring him, begin to poke the random buttons that were placed in the elevator. Vox slaps his screen, “Jesus fuck what am I gonna do with you..”

You begin to look up at his screen, attempting to gather most of what he’s feeling.

“#$@*”

Vox looks down, to see you, now hugging him, your cheek lying against his stomach. Suddenly, you started to glow pink. Now for some reason, you can feel. Not feeling physically, but emotionally. Empathy was being printed in each wire in your body, and from what you knew, hugging was the best way you could show it.

Vox was a bit confused at your gesture, he didn’t really know how to feel since no one has ever showed him this level of affection. It felt right tho, like he got what he deserved. Even without words, he knew what you wanted to say. And he knew how to respond.

“Uh, I guess I forgive you..?”

#Spotify #hazbin hotel #idk #lol #viziepop #x reader #fanfic #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel

26 notes · View notes

warningsine · 23 days ago

Text

Unnecessarily compiling sensitive information can be as damaging as actively trying to steal it. For example, the Cybernews research team discovered a plethora of supermassive datasets, housing billions upon billions of login credentials. From social media and corporate platforms to VPNs and developer portals, no stone was left unturned.

Our team has been closely monitoring the web since the beginning of the year. So far, they’ve discovered 30 exposed datasets containing from tens of millions to over 3.5 billion records each. In total, the researchers uncovered an unimaginable 16 billion records.

None of the exposed datasets were reported previously, bar one: in late May, Wired magazine reported a security researcher discovering a “mysterious database” with 184 million records. It barely scratches the top 20 of what the team discovered. Most worryingly, researchers claim new massive datasets emerge every few weeks, signaling how prevalent infostealer malware truly is.

“This is not just a leak – it’s a blueprint for mass exploitation. With over 16 billion login records exposed, cybercriminals now have unprecedented access to personal credentials that can be used for account takeover, identity theft, and highly targeted phishing. What’s especially concerning is the structure and recency of these datasets – these aren’t just old breaches being recycled. This is fresh, weaponizable intelligence at scale,” researchers said.

The only silver lining here is that all of the datasets were exposed only briefly: long enough for researchers to uncover them, but not long enough to find who was controlling vast amounts of data. Most of the datasets were temporarily accessible through unsecured Elasticsearch or object storage instances.

What do the billions of exposed records contain?

Researchers claim that most of the data in the leaked datasets is a mix of details from stealer malware, credential stuffing sets, and repackaged leaks.

There was no way to effectively compare the data between different datasets, but it’s safe to say overlapping records are definitely present. In other words, it’s impossible to tell how many people or accounts were actually exposed.

However, the information that the team managed to gather revealed that most of the information followed a clear structure: URL, followed by login details and a password. Most modern infostealers – malicious software stealing sensitive information – collect data in exactly this way.

Information in the leaked datasets opens the doors to pretty much any online service imaginable, from Apple, Facebook, and Google, to GitHub, Telegram, and various government services. It’s hard to miss something when 16 billion records are on the table.

According to the researchers, credential leaks at this scale are fuel for phishing campaigns, account takeovers, ransomware intrusions, and business email compromise (BEC) attacks.

“The inclusion of both old and recent infostealer logs – often with tokens, cookies, and metadata – makes this data particularly dangerous for organizations lacking multi-factor authentication or credential hygiene practices,” the team said.

What dataset exposed billions of credentials?

The datasets that the team uncovered differ widely. For example, the smallest, named after malicious software, had over 16 million records. Meanwhile, the largest one, most likely related to the Portuguese-speaking population, had over 3.5 billion records. On average, one dataset with exposed credentials had 550 million records.

Some of the datasets were named generically, such as “logins,” “credentials,” and similar terms, preventing the team from getting a better understanding of what’s inside. Others, however, hinted at the services they’re related to.

For example, one dataset with over 455 million records was named to indicate its origins in the Russian Federation. Another dataset, with over 60 million records, was named after Telegram, a cloud-based instant messaging platform.

While naming is not the best way to deduce where the data comes from, it seems some of the information relates to cloud services, business-oriented data, and even locked files. Some dataset names likely point to a form of malware that was used to collect the data.

It is unclear who owns the leaked data. While it could be security researchers that compile data to check and monitor data leaks, it’s virtually guaranteed that some of the leaked datasets were owned by cybercriminals. Cybercriminals love massive datasets as aggregated collections allow them to scale up various types of attacks, such as identity theft, phishing schemes, and unauthorized access.

A success rate of less than a percent can open doors to millions of individuals, who can be tricked into revealing more sensitive details, such as financial accounts. Worryingly, since it's unclear who owns the exposed datasets, there’s little impact users can do to protect themselves.

However, basic cyber hygiene is essential. Using a password manager to generate strong, unique passwords, and updating them regularly, can be the difference between a safe account and stolen details. Users should also review their systems for infostealers, to avoid losing their data to attackers.

No, Facebook, Google, and Apple passwords weren’t leaked. Or were they?

With a dataset containing 16 billion passwords, that’s equivalent to two leaked accounts for every person on the planet.

We don’t really know how many duplicate records there are, as the leak comes from multiple datasets. However, some reporting by other media outlets can be quite misleading. Some claim that Facebook, Google, and Apple credentials were leaked. While we can’t completely dismiss such claims, we feel this is somewhat inaccurate.

Bob Diachenko, a Cybernews contributor, cybersecurity researcher, and owner of SecurityDiscovery.com, is behind this recent major discovery.

16-billion-record data breach signals a shift in the underground world

According to Cybernews researcher Aras Nazarovas, this discovery might signal that criminals are abandoning previously popular methods of obtaining stolen data.

"The increased number of exposed infostealer datasets in the form of centralized, traditional databases, like the ones found be the Cybernews research team, may be a sign, that cybercriminals are actively shifting from previously popular alternatives such as Telegram groups, which were previously the go-to place for obtaining data collected by infostealer malware," Nazarovas said.

He regularly works with exposed datasets, ensuring that defenders secure them before threat actors can access them.

Here’s what Nazarovas suggests you should do to protect yourself.

"Some of the exposed datasets included information such as cookies and session tokens, which makes the mitigation of such exposure more difficult. These cookies can often be used to bypass 2FA methods, and not all services reset these cookies after changing the account password. Best bet in this case is to change your passwords, enable 2FA, if it is not yet enabled, closely monitor your accounts, and contact customer support if suspicious activity is detected."

Billions of records exposed online: recent leaks involve WeChat, Alipay

Major data leaks, with billions of exposed records, have become nearly ubiquitous. Last week, Cybernews wrote about what is likely the biggest data leak to ever hit China, billions of documents with financial data, WeChat and Alipay details, as well as other sensitive personal data.

Last summer, the largest password compilation with nearly ten billion unique passwords, RockYou2024, was leaked on a popular hacking forum. In 2021, a similar compilation with over 8 billion records was leaked online.

In early 2024, the Cybernews research team discovered what is likely still the largest data leak ever: the Mother of All Breaches (MOAB), with a mind-boggling 26 billion records.

16 billion passwords exposed: how to protect yourself

Huge datasets of passwords spill onto the dark web all the time, highlighting the need to change them regularly. This also demonstrates just how weak our passwords still are.

Last year, someone leaked the largest password compilation ever, with nearly ten billion unique passwords published online. Such leaks pose severe threats to people who are prone to reusing passwords.

Even if you think you are immune to this or other leaks, go and reset your passwords just in case.

Select strong, unique passwords that are not reused across multiple platforms

Enable multi-factor authentication (MFA) wherever possible

Closely monitor your accounts

Contact customer support in case of any suspicious activity

#tech #security #google #facebook

4 notes · View notes

chaoticamelay · 5 months ago

Text

CRIPS FOR ESIMS FOR GAZA FUNDRAISER ♿🍉

Hi friends! Even after the ceasefire, Palestinians in Gaza are still in need of eSIMs to stay connected to each other and the world. It will likely be months before telecommunications services are back up and running. The amazing organisation Connecting Humanity has been providing eSIMs to people in Gaza, as has Crips for sSIMs for Gaza, a group of disabled people who have also been collecting funds and providing eSIMs to Palestinians. Both these groups need help now!

Crips for eSIMs for Gaza has sent more than 41,000 eSIMs and top ups and spent over two million dollars CAD on a rough estimate of 600,000 gigabytes of data, but they are currently thousands of dollars in the negatives. But they are determined to keep eSIMs that are currently active topped up, and they will need to raise at least $42K CAD to comfortably send new eSIMs to Gazans again.

I want to help get eSIMs to people who need them, but i have very few marketable skills. So, if you show me that you have donated to Crips for eSIMs for Gaza, I will show you what colours your name is according to my synesthesia !

For me, all letters have a unique colour and bc names have different letter frequency, this combines to make unique name colour schemes. If you donate at least $10 to Crips For eSIMs for Gaza and show me the proof, I will share what colours I see your name as. You aren't allowed to get annoyed at me if it’s ugly though.

Ex: Alice colour combo

I will try to respond promptly but obviously I won’t on Shabbat or holidays. You can donate multiple times, but obviously you have a limited number of names.

idk how this will go but hopefully we can get some eSIMs for people who need them!

#esims for gaza #gaza #crips for esims #free palestine #palestine libre #palestine #fundraiser #cripple punk #cpunk #disabled #disability justice

12 notes · View notes

fractalcloning · 1 year ago

Text

As I scream into the void seeking a Narek RPer to play against, I have finally caved and must explain why I want this Romulan loungelizard to be more popular. (It won't happen, but I can dream.)

Reasons I like Narek as a character that nobody but me gives a shit about:

Let me preface this with a fact about me: I know Romulans.

I've RPed as Nero for almost two straight years in a large game. I've basically learned Rihannsu back to front for the endeavor. The person who played my Ayel and I both dumped countless hours into developing grammar and extrapolating cultural rules. We were dedicated to making them as believeable and accurate to canon as possible.

I have the whole timeline of the destruction of Hobus/Romulus down to memory. I know about all the neat little tidbits and trivia from comics and adjacent materials etc, etc.

This is to say: I have read and written quite a lot about Romulans in my time. I am very familiar with how they work and what data is available to draw from when writing them.

We do meet a few rank and file military Romulans from time to time, however. So we know how the general military operates in direct contrast to the Tal'Shiar. Caution and secrecy is sort of baked into their culture, which makes a lot of sense given that they're constantly at war with basically everyone, but they aren't (generally) unreasonable people.

In canon Trek, Romulans are often a little over the top with the sneaky-backstabbing-untrustworthy-nonsense. They're almost comical with how much scheming they do, but most of the Romulans we meet in canon are Tal'Shiar. The Tal'Shiar are known, pretty explicitly for the depth and breadth of their sneaky-backstabbing-untrustworthy-nonsense. It's kind of their whole deal, apart from mnhei'sahe (literally the ruling passion honor).

Narek, however, was a child when Hobus went supernova. He is from the very last generation that had any living memory of Romulus. (Elnor is also from this generation and they are great foils for each other, but that's another essay.) Narek is from a (presumably) respected family of--if not Tal'Shiar then Military--operatives. His aunt held high rank, his sister did as well, and both were inducted into the Zhat Vash, an organization that worked so quietly and efficiently that even the famously paranoid Tal'Shiar thought they were a myth. They orchestrated catastrophes and manipulated Galactic law to their ends, one of their members was the head of Starfleet Security and Narissa was on a personal basis with her.

Their underlying culture is present, but it isn't explored very deeply in any one canon source. Taken collectively, however, it is just as substantial as Klingon Battle-lust or Ferengi Capitalism.

Nero was a break from the norm, not because he was vengeful, but because he was the first non-military Romulan we'd ever really seen. His designs, the tattoos, the crew of his ship with their very un-Romulan loyalty, the way he talked and sought equivalent exchange of lives (mnhei'sahe), was a wealth of Romulan culture that we hadn't ever seen. He was a regular Joe, had a regular non-Military job, trusted and worked with aliens to try and save lives. His failure (not his fault) was something he absorbed and sought to rectify in the Romulan way.

Nero was super interesting both for how much detail he cast on Romulan culture, and in how he slotted into the Prime Timeline. Nero was a guy desperately clinging to hope, to the last vestiges of his civilian life, but he was cut free by the destruction of Romulus and set adrift. The only anchor he had in the AOS timeline was his honor and the driving need to balance the scales and restore it.

Narek, however privledge his family was, was a washout. He was a failure. We know he wasn't Zhat Vash, and whether he was even Tal'Shiar is up for some serious speculation. He doesn't act like military officers, and only seems to be play-acting as a Tal'Shiar, miming his sister when it suits him.

Narek may have had authority on the Artifact, but it was probably by dint of Oh granting it. We never get any clarification whatsoever about his rank or dayjob, just that he is fully devoted to helping the Zhat Vash. He is analytical, prepared, but he is not good at thinking on his feet and clearly does his planning off screen. He's meticulous but not especially skilled at hiding or regulating his emotional state. He is far less aggressive and stalwart than just about every other Romulan we've seen...except for Nero.

He was literally a placeholder sent to keep tabs on Soji. He didn't even arrive until Narissa had failed to capture Dahj. That Narek managed to get close to Soji, that he discovered her dreams and correctly surmised what they are, was more luck than skill. Before his assessments the Zhat Vash knew that Dahj (and Soji) could be activated out of their cover, but they assumed that they could capture them. They probably assumed they could torture the data out of them, if not dissect them and rip out a harddrive.

Narek found an easy way to get right to the information they needed. His attachment to Romulan culture is his puzzlebox--Before Nero we had never met a Romulan civilian and before Narek we have never met a cultural Romulan who plays with a toy, we had never seen a child's toy like that. Of course, the puzzlebox (Tan Zhekran) was a mechanism to illustrate his thought process, to make the differences between Narissa and him very apparent, but it was also something from his childhood (presumably). It's a weirdly personal affect for a Romulan and he fidgets with it almost constantly. It's a tell, something he shouldn't have, and it makes him accessible on an emotional level.

Narek is a civilian.

He's a civilian in a family of spies and operatives, raised alongside his sister on the same stories, with the same care. There's no way a Zhat Vash didn't have a family home on Romulus. While Elnor is a nice example of the new generation of Romulans, Narek is one of the last examples of what is used to mean to be a Romulan. He saw Romulus and escaped with all his surviving family when it as it was destroyed. Narek was raised on Romulan tradition (private names for family), Romulan stories about the end of the world, and he is haunted by them because he knows they're true, they're real. His sister and aunt have seen it, seen the message that drives people mad, about Ganmadan. His living relatives have dedicated their lives to preventing it and, even if he isn't actually Zhat Vash, he does the same.

Narek is a failure, by his culture's standards, by his family's standards, but he is also the only one of them who lives in the end.

He's a civilian who is trying, desperately, to avert another Romulan apocalypse. He has already lived through one and somehow this next one is even worse. Like Nero he sees the writing on the wall--but instead of doubling down on the traditional sneaky spy shit, he tries something new--unlike Nero, it works! He makes headway where nobody else could.

Unfortunately, it's kinda fucked up, but he then gives up everything in the pursuit of this goal. (Which to him, seems like a noble one.) Narek gives up who he is (by playing at being Tal Shiar), his safety (he has no idea what Soji is capable of or what might set her off, they only have records of Dahj killing a dozen agents before being blown up), and eventually resigns himself to killing the woman he's fallen in love with (the baseline requirement for giving out his real name). He does it all for the greater good, to save people and he doesn't seem to make much of a distinction between Romulan and other organic lives. He has his little plans, tracking La Sirena in a single cloaked ship, hiding his presence to tail them, firing on them despite being wholly outmatched, allying with Sutra however temporarily, trying to sway Soji again, turning to Rios, Raffi, and Elnor for help--he's willing to do anything because he's terrified that everything is about to end and it will be him who failed to prevent it.

The very last shot we see of him, after his plan to detonate the transmitter fails completely, is him on the ground being dragged away by the Coppelius androids. He doesn't posture or threaten, doesn't say ominous shit like the other Romulans we're used to--He begs. He claws at the ground, trying to stay, and he begs. He pleads with Soji, calls her his love, tries that last ditch hail mary because it's all he can do. He fails his task and she's the last person he can reach out to and, in the end, despite the very real threat to her life, Planet, and Picard, Soji smashes the transmitter. The apocalypse is averted.

Narek failed but he also succeeded. His aunt is dead, Oh has been outed as a traitor, and his sister is killed by Seven of Nine. In a cut scene, apparently, Narek was supposed to be arrested by Starfleet. So he's facing (at the very least) retribution from the androids and the ExBorg. Starfleet is very likely to arrest and interrogate him, if not imprison him indefinitely since he has ties to the Zhat Vash and, subsequently, will be on the hook to explain the Utopia Planetia disaster. Soji hates him, for good reason, and his homeworld is long gone. Narek has nothing...but the world was saved.

Narek is singular because he's all about needing and interacting with other people, he has no real authority, nobody he commands. He's a civilian (insofar as any Romulan can be) and is a soft, emotional boy who hangs on to his childhood toys. He's driven in equal parts by fear and a deep sense of failure, like everyone else in the show, and he takes the steps that seem right and necessary to him (also like everyone else on the show).

Narek was a great contrast against Elnor in every possible way--from his evasiveness to his fear of death--and he was a great foil for Soji. On Coppelius, Soji's terror clouds her judgment and she very nearly does terrible things to protect herself. Her actions, her opinions, her hesitation were all driven by fear. The ends seemed to justify the means. She reflects Narek's state for the whole show. Season 1 is about finding safety and meaning.

Narek is afraid for the whole duration of the show and his choices all reflect that same desperate need to find permanent safety, to live. Soji exists on the peripheral of that with the Ex-Borg, and as a synthetic, and then she falls headlong into it after his betrayal. Narek regrets trying to kill her and the symbolism of his losing that box, of him trying to kill her in a room that is so very culturally Romulan, right after telling her his name, makes it very clear that killing her is killing some piece of himself. But the ends justify the means. He can and will give up everything to save the world.

And his last line in the show is desperately pleading with the woman he loves as he's dragged away.

Then we never see him again or get anything resembling closure for Soji or Narek.

Which I will be big mad about forever, because they didn't even get the bare minimum acknowledgement and closure of "moving on and living life is paramount because it is finite and beautiful ". Nope. Nothing. I'm furious forever.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. I hope if Star Trek Legacy happens we get Narek as a sort of...side character creeper informant ala Garak. I also hope we get Soji on Seven's Enterprise because I love her.

30 notes · View notes

daughterofthequeen · 2 years ago

Text

The Last Moments of Solace

Pairings: Ezra Bridger x reader

Request: I saw that your request are open and I was hoping that you could write an Ezra Bridger (season 4) x reader?? Maybe fluff and smutty?? Maybe reader can be also a Jedi of his age? For the plot…mhhh…maybe something based on episode 6 (season 4) or episode 17 (season 3)?

Warnings: Suggestive content cus I don’t write smut yet, yet, fluff, kissing, groans, moans, the overuse of comma’s

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write lately, and I’m so excited to start. And this request just reopened my Ezra hyper-fixation. And I’ve been wanting to write my first series too, I just haven’t figure out which one of the characters I’m currently invested in, to do it on first. You just made the choice harder Anon, you’re no help😫!!! (nahhh I’m just kidding I love you for this, I forgot how much I loved my first Star Wars crush🥰🧡) Ezra had 11 year old me giggling and kicking my feet every Monday night before I had to go to bed 🤭. So I chose episode 6 of season 4 but I couldn’t find a way how to incorporate the reader into the show that I liked so, it’s taking place in episode 7 so technically it’s still based on episode 6. This is my first time doing suggestive too btw and I’m very nervous so cut me some slack pleassse🧡

Y/N POV

How did we get here?!

This was only meant to be a recon mission. But no, Sabine just had to get the data recorder and the hyperdrive. Which is good use for the rebellion, but it still doesn’t stop me from wanting a easy day. Next thing I know there’s cats, Thrawn, a wolf, troopers, me and Ezra falling over crates, then us jumping into the newly designed TIE that Sabine hijacked. Which was a nice touch may I add. Well it was, until we found out it had a kill switch that we barley got out of alive. And that lead to us on top of a nice loth wolf, that only me and Ezra could remember since Sabine fainted and didn’t wake back up until we got back to the hideout. Yeah, it was a lot.

The Next Day

Currently me, Ezra, Zeb, and Jai were collecting the hyperdrive, well trying to anyway we couldn’t find where we left it.

“Hurry up.” Ezra told Zeb after he lifted up his mask to his scout trooper uniform. Identical to the ones Jai and I were wearing.

“Where’s the hyperdrive?” Zeb asked looking around the rocks.

“Over here somewhere.” Ezra replied. “Jai keep watch.”

“Over here somewhere? All these rocks look the same!” Zeb whispered frustratedly

“It was dark and we just crashed, we didn’t have time to make a map!” I whispered just as frustrated, sassily putting my hand on my hip. Suddenly we heard the meowing of a white loth cat, like the one from last night sitting on top of a rock.

“Hey, when in doubt follow the loth-cat.” Ezra said while smirking, causing me to lightly chuckle.

“You’re kidding right?” Zeb asked hesitantly as we walked towards it. “You and your loth-cats.” Zeb told Ezra as they moved the rock revealing the hyperdrive. As they started moving the hyperdrive, a small empire ship flew over us towards the crash sight, and I got a strong feeling that we had to hurry, to speed up the pace I grabbed a hold of the back of the hyperdrive to help them move it onto the trailer.

“Uh, Ezra, we have to problem.” Jai called while he was looking into his binoculars.

“What is that?” I asked while walking up beside Jai.

“I don’t know, and I don’t think I want to know.” Jai responded.

Ezra turned to Zeb. “We’ll draw them away, you get the hyperdrive out of here.” He said as me, him, and Jai, closed our helmets and started walking towards the weird bounty hunter looking guy who was using all four of his limbs to run.

“Just let me blast it.” Jai said anxiously, on the left side of Ezra while I was on the right.

“It’s ok, I can get us out of this.” Ezra said in an unsure tone.

“You don’t sound too confident about that blue.” I said also feeling his unease.

Ezra let out a breathily chuckle at the nostalgic nickname that he remembers you giving him back when you both first met.

“Yeah well, I know you have my back no matter what.” He said. Hearing his smirk under his helmet, I can’t help but smirk too.

“No doubt.” He has no idea how right he is, I would do anything for him. But our small moment was cut short when the assassin made it to us, sniffing?

“LS-3226, LS-3227, and LS-3228, reporting. We’ve checked out this area and found nothing. Should we continue our search?” Ezra once again sounds unsure, but this time it’s understandable given this guy is up close sniffing his armor. Jai slowly raises his blaster, ready to shoot but I try to discreetly raise my hand to tell him to wait so, he wouldn’t blow our cover.

“No.” Is all the bounty hunter said before turning the opposite direction then quickly turning back around swinging at Ezra to catch him off guard, but Ezra was able to dodge and punch him instead until the hunter was able to trap Ezra with his legs, and that’s when me and Jai let loose with our blasters. Though the hunter was extremely fast as he dodged and our stray bullets were landing all around Ezra.

“Don’t shoot me, shoot him! Blast it!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” “What do you think we’re trying to do blue?!” I yelled back and the hunter was quickly running towards us and quickly dodging our shots so, I lifted up my helmet and force pushed him into a boulder as soon as he made a jump for Jai.

“Jedi.” The bounty hunter stated as Governor Pryce made it use and recognized or faces immediately.

“It’s Bridger and (L/n), blast them!” Pryce ordered.

As shots were coming towards us, me and Ezra took out our lightsabers and started blocking blast. Then the three of us jumped on our speeders.

“How many of them are back there?” Ezra asked then I turned around to check. “More than enough! Let’s try to loose them in there” I replied pointing to the sea of rocks, as I seen the bounty hunter coming towards us with a disrupter and I quickly took out my lightsaber and blocked him.

“Can’t this thing go faster?” I said already tired of this assassin guy.

“Hold him there. Just hold him there!” I looked to see why, just in time to see Jai in front of us going in between two rocks and understood Ezra’s idea. The hunter caught on and turned off from us to keep from crashing. That’s when the troopers behind started firing, but Ezra was able to dodge them. I seen a overhead we were speeding towards and took out a bomb and threw it. Causing the large rock to explode and block the troopers. But the hunter was moving to fast to stop so he sped up making it over the piles of rocks and I took my shot hitting the speeders engine causing it to explode and the assassin jumped off just in time to grasp onto a rock before he could fall, and glared at us. I smirked, then looked forward to see Ezra do his signature two-fingered salute and we sped off to the campsite.

We made it back skidding to a stop and seen Kanan walking towards us. “Good job, looks like our hyperdrive problem is solved.” Kanan said as we got off the speeders.

“Yeeeah well, you know how one problem usually leads to another?” Ezra asked Kanan

“Yeeah?” Kanan question in an annoyed tone knowing where Ezra was going with that question.

“We have another, and its small, creepy, and very dangerous!” I explained dramatically as we started walking towards everyone else.

————————————————————

Jai, Ezra, and I went to change back into our regular clothes, while everyone else was discussing the plan. Just as I was finished fixing my shirt, I felt two arms wrap around me and a nice sensation on my neck. I smiled knowing it was Ezra due to the affection and me sensing him as he was walking towards me. I sighed in relief, finally able to let my muscles release their tension even if it’s only for a minute. I closed my eyes and rested all of my weight into him taking a deep breath, lazily looking over my shoulder as he moved up from kissing my neck to my cheek. I giggled lightly and turned my body slightly to meet my lips with his and the deep soft groan he let out drove me crazy. I ran my fingers through his short soft hair, causing him to groan again, this time a lot stronger, precisely why I did it. I moved my hands down to rest them on top of his, that had started massaging my hips bringing out a soft moan from me. I released his lips and opened my eyes to see his lips chasing after mine to reconnect them. I leaned back still trying to catch my breath, but eventually I gave back in as he knew I would.

“You okay?” He asked while our lips were still pressed together continuously trying claim each others, I almost didn’t hear him.

“Mhm.” Is all I could reply back, but I knew better, when it came to my well-being mumbled answers are never accepted, especially after a mission but with his soft lips intertwined with mine I couldn’t focus. He pulled away causing me to whine and turn around completely wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him back down to me, but he wasn’t having it.

“(Y/n)” was all he said, I opened my eyes and responded back with a sigh.

“I’m fine, Ezra.” He frowned as if he didn’t believe me. “I promise.” I reassured him bringing my hands up to his face gently rubbing the permanent scar on his left cheek. He sighed and leaned into my touch, then leaned back down to capture my lips again. His hands started moving under my shirt, thumbs starting to rub my stomach. Enjoying the sensational buzz it was bringing me, I reached down to the waist of his pants to start unbuttoning them, until we heard someone clearing their throat and we jumped apart from each other. It was Hera. A strong heat immediately went to my cheeks, as I hurriedly fixed my shirt and smiled like everything was normal, awkwardly seeing Ezra out the corner of my eye quickly rebutting and zipping his pants back up before quickly turning around with the same smile.

“Hera! Heyyyy! What’s up?!” I say trying to act casual, but that was way out the window. I could tell with her with the way she was standing. Arms crossed with her hip poking out to the side with a small smirk on her face. I looked up at Ezra to see him turning red as he looked up somewhere over Hera that I couldn’t pinpoint.

“I came to check on you guys, and to see if you wanted to see how Sabine was coming along with the hyperdrive, but I can see you two are already preoccupied.” Hera stated

“Oh no, we weren’t doing anything important, come on let’s go.” I said trying to move pass the awkward moment missing the way Ezra head swung to me with a offended frown on his face.

We made it to the ship Sabine was working on. “How’s it going?” Hera called out.

“Well it wasn’t easy but I got it patched in. Still I give it a 50/50 chance of working.” Sabine explained.

“I’ll have to live with 50/50.” Hera responded back, when I felt Ezra’s dread and turned towards him and seen what he was looking at.

“Oh no.” He whispered. “We’re out of time!”

We quickly finished packing up a speeder-car with the supplies to send with Jai, to our allies.

“We’ll hold off the Empire until you’re clear, we’ll signal rendezvous coordinates later.” Ryder tells Jai

“And if we don’t hear from you?” Jai asked worriedly

“You will.” Ezra reassured him.

“Alright Bridger, good luck.” Jai said then sped off.

We all got ready to defend Hera for her take off, lining up behind some empty crates. I looked over to Sabine after seeing her move out the corner of my eye, seeing her looking at something behind us. I turned to see Hera and Kanan kissing. I smirked still a little shocked. “It’s about time.” I said as we all got ready to defend ourselves.

“We won’t stand long against those tanks.” Zeb stated

“We have that transport and a bike.” Ryder explained until the transport was blown up.

“How many can we get on a bike?” Zeb asked and I playfully rolled my eyes at the question. Until I hear a wolf howling and felt Ezra nudge my arm.

“There! That’s our way out.” He told everyone as continued to stare at the wolf that helped us last night.

“Loth-wolves?” Ryder questioned

“Look they helped us before, we should follow them.” Ezra told Ryder still a little unsure.

“Are you serious?”

“Do you know the way out?!” Ezra asked the wolf who immediately started running in a opposite direction after his question.

“Come on.” Ezra said grabbing my wrist and running to catch up with the wolves.

“Kanan?” Sabine asked worriedly.

“Seems like the best idea we got, let’s go.” He replied breathlessly

“This is good, when it gets strange like this, it’s a good thing.” Zeb reassured Ryder.

“How have you people stayed alive so long?!” Ryder yelled following everyone else.

We all were running after the wolves. Well Ezra was, we were following him.

“Ezra wait up!” Zeb called out which he ignored

“Ezra!” Sabine yelled this time.

“I don’t want to lose them, come on!” Ezra finally replied starting to run after them again, but stopped suddenly seeing the wolves all laying down, lowly growling as everyone else caught up.

“Hold it, stay back.” Ezra warned

“Why have they stopped?” Kanan asked

“I don’t know.” Ezra replied as he started walking towards the white wolf who seemed to be the leader of the three.

“Ezra, wait!” I whispered trying to reach for him but he dodged me.

He walked up to the white wolf slightly crouched and carefully talking to it.

“There is a way out of here, isn’t there?”

“You wanted us to follow you, didn’t you?”

“What are you waiting for?” All these questions Ezra was asking and the only reply the wolf gave was looking up at Kanan. Which made me uncomfortable.

“Kanan? Kanan it’s looking-”

“-At me I know.” He cut Ezra off and walked up to the white wolf. “What does it want?” He asked, that’s when the wolves got up and walked into a cave.

“I guess they were waiting for you.” I said as I walked up to them.

We all walked down into the cave, Sabine turned on her flag light looking at cave drawings.

“There are images here of people, people following a wolf.”

“I guess we’re not the first ones.” Zeb said

“Hold on. Shut your light off.” Ezra told Sabine. We were in complete darkness all we could see was the wolves eyes and listening to the wolves still lowly growling.

“What now, Ezra?” Kanan asked

“I’m not sure.”

“There wasn’t a picture of wolves eating those people was there?” Zeb whispered to Sabine.

All of a sudden the cave started shaking, dust and rocks falling, proving the cave wasn’t going to last long. The wolves looked up growling louder.

“The Empire’s bombing the mountains.” Ryder stated

“We’ve gotta get out of here!” Ezra stated turning seeing the white wolf tail in his face, and looking up to see the wolf nod.

“Everyone join hands.” Grabbing a hold of the wolf tail.

“Ezra?” I said unsure.

“Just do it!”

“The cave is going to collapse.” Zeb stated.

“There’s no way out of here.” Ryder said

“That we know of.” Kanan said trying to reassure everyone.

As we walked deeper into the cave a bright blue glowing light started to appear similar to hyperspace when we walked into it. Next thing I know, we’re all waking up in a cave, but it’s a totally different one.

“Where in blazes are we?” Zeb asked shocked

“Let’s find out.” Ezra said walking outside, the rest of us following.

Sabine came up with a data pad. “Uh, you’re not going to believe this. We were in the northern hemisphere, now we’re in the southern hemisphere. Somehow we’ve moved halfway across the planet.”

“Huh.” I said seeing the wolves go back into the cave with Kanan, so me and Ezra followed.

“Kanan?” I called out making sure he was ok.

“Look around, tell me what you guys see.” Kanan told us.

“This place reminds me of the Jedi temple here on Lothal.” Ezra stated as I walked to the pictures on the walls.

“The walls are telling a story. There are people coming down from the sky, I think they might be Jedi.” I told Kanan.

“There’s a message here for us.” Kanan said.

“What, because we’re Jedi?” I asked confused.

“Dume.” The wolf said.

“What does that mean? The wolf said it before.” Ezra asked.

Kanan took off his mask, shock on his face.

“Dume is my name. Caleb Dume is the name I was born with.” Kanan told us placing his hand in the wolf’s head.

“How does the wolf know that?” I asked even more confused than before.

“It has a deep connection to the force, to the energy of this planet.”

“Don’t all living things?” Ezra asked.

“This is different. More focused. Like it has a purpose.”

“And we’re apart of it?” I said starting understand in a way.

“I’m getting the feeling building the TIE defender isn’t the worst thing the Empire is doing here. There’s something else, something more sinister.” Kanan stated worriedly.

“Dume.” The wolf said while backing up into the shadow disappearing. And as the sunlight made its way further into the cave revealing that nothing was there but a wall with a picture on it, and a crack through the middle of it.

“So? All the paths are coming together, right?” Era asked

“Yeah, I’m just not sure if we’re going to like where they lead.”

“Do we ever?” I said sarcastically causing Kanan to scoff in amusement .

“No and yes.”

“I wonder if Hera made it.” Ezra said worriedly causing me to wonder as well.

“I know she did.” Kanan reassured us, he then placed his hands on our shoulders and walked outside with everyone else, and we followed.

————————————————————

A/N:

Sorry this took me so long anon. I wasn’t sure if I liked this or not. I’ve edited this too many times, but you’ve waited long enough. Just let me if you like it and if not, I’ll try to edit it to how you like. Thank you for requesting anon! I hope enjoy!

#star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars #ezra bridger x reader #star wars rebels fanfic #ezra bridger #star wars rebels

100 notes · View notes