#the new republic won't help and he's like

[callmeasinnercallmeasaint45]

Carson Teva is singlehandedly protecting the entire Outer Rim

[the-force-awakens]

*banging pots and pans together* I FUCKING HATE THE NEW REPUBLIC

[entitled-fangirl]

Such a pretty sight.

Din Djarin x reader

Summary: Toro Calico drags Mando into his hunt, which drags the Mandalorian's riduur and child into it as well.

Warnings: blasters, cursing, kidnapping, weird comments

Masterlist

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"Where are we going?"

Din turned back to look at his riduur. "I'm finding work."

This didn't help her confusion. "Then why am I coming with you?"

He turned to start walking again, "Because Mesh'la, you need a break from the kid. Now, put your mask back on."

She huffed under her breath but didn't argue.

When she started traveling with Din, he had given her a mask that fitted the bottom half of her face. It was simply for her safety, considering the wanted child they carried with them.

…

"Hey, droid, I'm a hunter. I'm lookin' for some work." The Mandalorian leaned on the bar, Y/N awkwardly standing behind him.

"Unfortunately, the Bounty Guild no longer operates from Tatooine."

"I'm not looking for Guild work."

The girl's head snapped up. What is Din doing?

"I am afraid that does not improve your situation, at least by my calculation."

A voice came from across the cantina, "Think again, tin can."

Y/N could feel the slight annoyed feeling in Din purely by his stance. He turned to look at the man who had interrupted them.

"If you're looking for work, have a seat, my friend." The man was young and cocky, Y/N could tell that much. "I'm Toro, Toro Calico." He pointed to the table he was sitting at, "C'mon, relax."

Y/N stepped forward slightly, her voice slightly muffled through the modulator of her small mask, "Mandalorians don't relax."

Toro smiled, "How about pretty girls?"

Din scoffed under his mask and moved to sit at the table, Y/N following behind.

Toro puts down his Bounty Puck, "Picked this up before I left the Mid Rim. It's Fennec Stand, an Assassin. I heard she's been on the run since the New Republic put all her employers in lockdown." He stared into Din's visor, which gave him nothing to read from him.

Din's deep, even voice calm through the modulator, "I know the name."

"Well, I followed this tracking fob here. Now the positional data suggests she's headed out beyond the Dune Sea." Toro looks over to Y/N with a charming smile, "Should be an easy job."

Din was getting annoyed, "Well, good luck with that." He got up from the table, holding his hand out to help Y/N stand. 

Toro was surprised, "Wait, wait, wait, hey. I thought you needed work?"

Din turned sharply, "How long have you been with the Guild?"

"Long enough."

"Clearly not. Fennec Shand is an elite mercenary. She made her name killing for all the top crime syndicates, including the Hutts." He balanced his weight onto his other foot, "If you go after her, you won't make it past sunrise."

He grabbed Y/N's wrist gently, pulling her away from the table. 

Toro groaned and moved to follow them, "This is… my first job. You can keep the money, all of it. I just need the job to get into the Guild." He scoffed, "I can't do it alone."

Din considered the plea, "Meet me at Hanger three-five in half an hour."

Toro looked relieved. But Din wasn't done.

"...bring two speeder bikes and give me the tracking fob."

Toro's eyes widened, his gaze shifting from the Mandalorian to the girl before he smashed the fob against the wall.

Din's head tilted in anger, and even his riduur was nervous.

Toro smiled, "Don't worry, got it all memorized."

Din's voice lowered, "Half an hour."

The man nodded. He turned to Y/N again, "And do I get to know your name before you leave?"

Her eyes widened, her lips slightly parted under her mask in slight shock. She turned to Din.

But before she could answer, Din's voice broke through, "No."

And he grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the cantina.

Toro yelled on their way out, "Looks like you're stuck with me now, partners."

…

The walk back to the Razor Crest was tense and she was unsure what to say. 

They walked up the ramp.

As she went to say something, Din stopped as if he hit a brick wall.

She stopped behind him, "…Din?"

The kid was gone.

Din ran out, leaving Y/N behind. 

He kicked at the droid near the Razor Crest, his voice a low growl, "WHERE IS HE??"

Peli Motto ran out with the child in her arms, "Quiet! Oh!" She shushes the child, "You woke it up."

Y/N wandered down the ramp, watching the exchange.

Din is enraged. "Give him to me."

"Not so fast. You can't just leave a child all alone like that. You know," she remarked, "you two have an awful lot to learn about raising a young one."

Y/N stepped up to meet Din. She looked to the woman, "Please. I'm his mother, Please."

Din went rigid at the confession. 

His riduur considered herself the child's mother.

Peli Motto sighed, handing the child to Y/N. Y/N immediately took the child back into the ship, a content smile on her face.

Peli held her hands on her hips, "Anyway, I started the repair on the fuel leak. There you go. I had a couple setbacks I want to talk to you about. You know, I didn't use any droids, as requested, so it took me a lot longer than I expected."

Din moved back into the ship, grabbing his bag.

She smiled, "But I figured you were good for the money since you have a few extra mouths to feed."

Din stopped, "Thank you."

…

Din met Toro in the Hanger, leaving his riduur and child in the ship. 

Toro sat on one of the speeder bikes proudly, "Hey, Mando, what do you think? Not too shabby, huh?"

Din expected the bike carefully.

Toro opened his mouth again, "What? You didn't bring the lady with you?"

Din turned slowly and angrily, but took a few deep breaths to make himself relax. "No."

Toro laughed, putting on his goggles, "Shame really. Would've been a pretty sight."

And he took off on the bike before Din could retaliate. 

Din followed behind. 

…

Y/N sat in the Razor Crest with the ramp down for hours while the men were gone, happily entertaining the child, and making small talk with Peli who continued her work. But soon, Peli had finished and made her way into her home for the night.

The Mandalorian's riduur babbled with the child and he walked around happily.

She heard footsteps and peaked her head up, hoping for Din to have already returned.

But he hadn't.

Toro did.

And he was aiming his blaster at her.

"Stand up, girl."

Her eyes widened in fear, shifting to the child.

Toro's tone became angrier, "I stand, stand up."

She did, holding her hands up.

"Now, get the child."

Y/N leaned down and picked up the child as intructed. "Toro, please…"

"Quiet. You're gonna do as I say."

…

Now at nightfall, he was finally making his way back to the Razor Crest.

The whole plan had gone to shit and the man had abandoned him.

Or had he?

Cause now Din saw the speeder bike outside of the Razor Crest.

He took out his blaster, carefully approaching.

"Took you long enough, Mando."

Toro emerged from the dark of the Razor Crest ramp. He held Y/N tight to his chest, and in her arms sat the child. His blaster was against the girl's temple uncomfortably.

"Looks like I'm calling the shots now. Huh, partner? Now drop your blaster and raise 'em."

He took a moment to study his riduur. She no longer had her mask. Her eyes were wide in uncertainty, and she held the child close to her chest in comfort. 

He couldn't handle the sight.

So, he dropped the blaster, and held his hands behind his head.

Y/N let out a gasp, "Mando…"

Toro grabbed at her neck harshly with his free hand, "Shut it."

The man leaned his head down to hers, his lips gently touching her ear, "I want you to go cuff him. Give me the child."

She gave out a small whimper, but knew there was no way to fight it.

She gave Toro the child and took slow, hesitant steps with the cuffs towards her riduur.

Toro took this time to monologue, "You're a Guild traitor, Mando. And I'm willing to bet that this here is the target you helped escape." He held his blaster towards the child.

Y/N, who had no reached Mando at this point, gently called out, "Don't touch him, please… please…"

Toro scoffed, "Cuff him, pretty girl. I'm waiting."

She nodded, moving towards Din.

Din had something in his hands behind his head.

"…Bringing you in won't just make me a member of the Guild, it'll make me legendary."

Mando took that as his opportunity.

He pressed the button on the remote in his hand, making a bright light and small explosion that blinded Toro.

Din grabbed Y/N and hid behind the nearest wall.

And blaster fire was all Y/N could hear and think about.

Until Toro was shot and fell from the ramp.

Y/N cursed, following closely behind Mando to the body. He reprimanded, "Stay back, Mesh'la."

She couldn't help it, "…the child…Din…?"

The child was no near to be seen.

She began to look around as Din inspected Toro's dead body.

Finally, she heard his babbling from behind a nearby crate.

"Oh, thank the maker… C'mere." She held the child close, kissing his little bald head.

When Din had turned back to his riduur, a smile came across his face beneath the beskar.

Toro was right.

She is such a pretty sight.

He stepped close to the woman and child. His gloved fingers lightly grazed the cut on her forehead.

She shook her head, "M'fine, Din."

He nodded. "Let's go, Cyare."

The little family left Tattooine in the Razor Crest. 

Din may have had fewer credits than he hoped to make out with, but he had much more that he was grateful to have. 

........................................................................

[blackkatmagic]

Mace Windu?

“Captain,” Mace says, and when Keeli turns, he inclines his head in greeting, refusing to let the usual flicker of caution stop him as he advances across the space set aside as a makeshift sparring ring. Ryloth’s red dust is a thick coating over everything, turning the white parts of Keeli's armor to rust and giving his hair even more of a red cast than usual, and Mace can feel his surprise, his concern, his wariness.

Not unexpected, given that Mace hasn’t had a chance to visit since droids ambushed Keeli's party, and it was only Mace's last-minute intervention that saved them. With Ima Gun-Di being taken to New Holstice for treatment, that means Keeli and his men are now under Mace's direct command, and Ponds brought Mace plenty of whispers about the whole company being terrified of being sent back to Kamino for decommissioning or reeducation.

Mace would be offended that any clone could assume he would do such a thing, but—it speaks volumes as to the clones’ situation and their servitude to the Republic.

There's very little Mace values the way he values the Republic, but at this point in the war, that bedrock faith is cracking, tarnished, and the way the clones exist is the entire reason as to why.

“General Windu,” Keeli says promptly, snapping to attention. He’s stripped down to just the lower half of his armor, skin bare and slicked with sweat, breath coming quick, and Mace can feel the wash of prickling self-awareness, bordering on embarrassment as he hesitates.

Nothing in Mace is capable of leaving Keeli to squirm, even for a moment, no matter how uncertain he is about his offer being accepted. He nods, waving Keeli out of his stiff attention, and says, “At ease, Captain. I wanted to make sure that you and the rest of the men were settling in.”

That doesn’t ease the wariness, but Keeli nods, mouth pulling into the start of a grimace. “We’re fine, sir. Just a couple of minor injuries, but everyone should be on their feet in a few days.” He hesitates, just for a second, and then says a little stiffly, “If you're going to transfer us back behind the lines, sir, I can assure you, an incident like before won't happen again—”

Mace raises a hand, stopping the words. “I know,” he says evenly, and meets Keeli's eyes. “You weren’t able to spot the ambush in time to avoid it last time. I want to make sure that next time, you can.”

There's a moment of outright alarm that’s blunted by anger, and Keeli says, “Sir, if you're sending us back for reconditioning—”

Mace shakes his head, takes a step closer. “I'm not,” he says plainly. “Close your eyes.”

“Sir?” Keeli asks in confusion, but he does so regardless of his concern, standing stiff and uncertain in the heavy sunlight.

Considering him for a moment, Mace tips his head, breathes out. He trained Depa, helped train Quinlan, helped train A'Sharad. This is hardly the first time he’s offered lessons to someone who could use them.

It’s the first time he’s made such an offer to a man who might not believe he’s able to say no, though.

“Commander Ponds tells me that you're an excellent earthbender,” he says steadily, and then, “I want to put my hand on your shoulder, and share the way I see the world, mind to mind. Do I have your permission?”

“Of course, sir,” Keeli says, bemused. “Do I need to do anything?”

“No, just pay attention.” Mace closes his own eyes, breathes out, reaches as he shifts his feet. Feels the twitch Keeli gives at the foreign sensation of another mind alongside his, and then—

An inhale, sharp, and then an equally sharp surge of something that Mace can only identify as fascination.

“Sir, what is that?” Keeli asks, intent, and shifts, dragging one foot along the ground. Mace shares how it feels in his carefully tuned senses, the ripples that run through the earth, the way it shifts the image in his mind. Doesn’t answer, but watches Keeli's face, and—

He’s been watching Keeli since well before the mission went south. That same edge of hunger right beneath his even expression is still there, almost hidden but not quite, as he takes in the ripples spreading outward.

All the clones are hungry to learn what they can about bending, beyond the absolute basics the Kaminoans and the Mandalorian trainers drilled into them. Mace has seen it in practically every clone, but Keeli's want is even sharper, even greater. Every time he earthbends, every time Mace sees him across the practice field, he can sense Keeli's focus, see his grace and grit as he pushes himself further.

The thought of teaching him this arose before, but Mace is viciously aware of just how any advance, any suggestion, could be taken when Keeli doesn’t believe he can say no, and he hadn’t wanted to press.

And then, startled, Keeli opens his eyes, looks straight at Mace. “Vibrations,” he says with surprise. “You’re feeling the vibrations through the earth? With your bending?”

Mace can't help the faint pull of a smile. Teaching quick students is always the most rewarding task, and enjoyable. “Indeed. We don’t have much time before our orders come in, but I can teach you if you’d like to learn.”

“Yes,” Keeli says, almost before Mace can get the words out, and then coughs, sheepishly drawing back and rubbing at the back of his neck. “I mean. Yes sir, I’d like that. If you think I can manage.”

“I do,” Mace says steadily, and catches his gaze squarely. “You understood what I was doing with no context beyond your own bending. Ponds was right to call you impressive.”

Keeli scoffs, looking away, and—that sense of embarrassment twists up with pleasure in a way that hooks itself into Mace's ribs. “Ponds is a waterbender. He wouldn’t know a good earthbender if they dropped a rock on his thick skull.”

Mace hides his amusement. “I’ll have to tell him you said as much,” he says gravely, and when Keeli's eyes widen in alarm, he snorts. “A joke, Captain. Though I think Ponds would take it as a compliment.”

Keeli rolls his eyes, the tips of his ears flushed. “That’s not proving me wrong,” he says, and steps back, turns to scan the ring. “We should have time right now if you're not doing anything better—Sir!”

Mace pauses, halfway through unbolting his robes, and raises a brow.

Keeli stares at him for a moment, looking a little like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming train—

The earth shivers, rises like the start of a wave right beneath Keeli's feet as he yelps, but Mace has seen this particular trick too many times to fall for it, and slams the roll of stone back down with a sharp gesture. Turns, levels a speaking look across the camp, and pins Depa with a wholly unimpressed stare.

Undeterred as ever, Depa waves cheerfully, then ducks out of sight behind a tent, though Mace isn't foolish enough to think that that’s anywhere close to the end of her little matchmaking attempt.

This is going to be a long training session, it seems. And Keeli's grin, half-hidden behind one hand, isn't doing anything to make it easier.

[burningcheese-merchant]

You have fully covered me into a burningcheese fan. I absolutely love how you write these ships with them!

But one question if burningcheese ever decided to have a wedding, what do you think it looked like and play out?

*inhales deeply* MY FRIEND! MY GUY! I'M FOUR PARALLEL UNIVERSES AHEAD OF YOU! (also, welcome to the cult and thank you so much for your support! I'm happy to bring people joy with my stories!)

I'll just give a few bullet points, because a) I have a lot of thoughts, and b) I haven't finished planning their wedding in full lol

Biggest. Wedding. Ever. Not exaggerating at all. It would be the biggest, most grand and beautiful wedding in the history of the world. Eclair will be there and he won't even be fully enjoying himself; he'll be too busy taking notes on EVERYTHING he sees, because it's such a fascinating culture mix/clash, there are so many guests (many of which are important figures), there are so many unique traditions and rituals and artifacts on display and and and... This isn't even his field of study, but he would absolutely be remiss to NOT document the wedding extensively, if only to pass it along to colleagues that actually specialize in cultural history (and help author some textbooks lol)

As said above, a big, fun culture clash. Members from both of their kingdoms worked together and went above and beyond to blend Egyptian Golden Cheese Kingdom aesthetics and with Indian Wild Spice aesthetics to create something traditional, yet brand new and exciting. Who would've thought they would work so well together? (You can say the same thing about the bride and groom tbh lol)

Our lovely couple's outfits would have bits and pieces from each other's cultures as a respectful homage to one another (and to show that they will be unifying their peoples through their marriage). Golden Cheese will dress mostly in her own traditional style, but with a good handful of pretty, tasteful Wild Spice accessories to accentuate her look. Same with Burning Spice; traditional Wild Spice wedding clothes, but with a touch of GCK to honor his wife

Also, they would both have matching henna (or mehndi, as they're actually called in India) tattoos. Very elaborate and beautiful, done by Wild Spice artists. (Henna/mehndi are mostly for women/brides, but from what I understand, men/grooms can get them too. I want to do this because I LOVE the idea of GC and BS having matching tattoos/makeup)

Everyone is invited. Literally everyone. They don't even have to know you. Just show up and have a good time (and be in awe of their love and devotion lol). It's very common for Indian weddings to be big ragers with many, many, MANY guests, and I thought that would suit a BurningCheese wedding too (especially for GC, she honestly probably would want EVERYONE to show up, both to show off and because she genuinely wants to share her joy with others)

Wedding party(ies) is their closest homies. The other Ancients plus the Cheese Gang (Smoked Cheese, Burnt Cheese and Mozzarella) for GC, a handful of his best subordinates for BS (Nutmeg Tiger, Saffron Buffalo, Pepper Pangolin, maybe Cilantro Cobra too).

Burning Spice thought of having Pitaya Dragon as a best man equivalent of some sort because they're Crime Besties (in my headcanon lol) but Hollyberry walked him through why that's a terrible idea and just left Pitaya as a regular guest

Wedding lasts a whole week, the main ceremony plus other rituals and a whole lot of dancing and drinking and laughing and having a blast together and with their loved ones

A+++ food, both GCK dishes and Wild Spice dishes, plus an assortment of delicacies from other lands (there's food from the Dark Cacao Kingdom, Faeriewood, the Creme Republic, etc). Hollyberry came in clutch and provided most of the booze (her kingdom has the god-tier alcohol, it was a welcome choice)

You can rest assured that they enjoyed their wedding night very, very much lol. Especially because there were technically seven of them. (One of Mozzarella's wedding gifts to them was soundproofing GC's bedroom no strings attached. She Knew™️. She's a girl's girl lol)

I'll stop there for everyone's sake, but TL;DR: it's a enormous, gorgeous event that perfectly encapsulates and celebrates their love. (And I envision this as part of Burning Spice's redemption arc, so it's like the reward at the end of a long, arduous journey. The breathtaking sunrise waiting at the mountain summit.) And they live happily ever after and have a family in the future, but I'm not spoiling that for any of you just yet :)

[profoundbondfanfic]

Do you have any recs for Reallyyy long fics? Like 200-300k+ words? That isn't 91W... avoiding that one because I feel like it will hurt me... preferably fix-its? Oh and no a/b/o pls :) thanksss

Here are a few:

Angel's Wild by riseofthefallenone (Explicit, 389k words)

But that’s the whole reason he’s here, isn’t it? He’s not out here hunting Humans. He’s not even hunting deer, or bears, or anything else that featured in Bambi. He’s out here, freezing his nuts off every night, because he’s hunting Angels. Sometimes Dean wishes that Angels were like how they’re described in the Bible. How people from time too old for him to care much about thought Angels were messengers and warriors of God, protectors of Humans. He knows that how they’re really described in the Bible is actually pretty terrifying, but at least they were told by God that they’re supposed to love Humans, right? That’s a thousand times better than what Angels really turned out to be.

Bitch Better Have My Money by Duckyboos (Explicit, 256k words)

How Dean Winchester - mechanic, shitty cook, single father - became the power behind the throne in one of the biggest crime syndicates in the Midwest.

Computer Safety Verse by followthattardis (Explicit, 232k words)

On the day of his 29th birthday, Dean receives an email from his old nemesis: Michael Milton, the guy who got him kicked out of college and stole his girlfriend. The email contains encoded images with top secret CIA/NSA intelligence – and now their only copy is in Dean’s brain. Both agencies send their best operatives – Castiel Novak and Victor Henriksen respectively – to handle their accidental asset and protect the invaluable data in his head. To justify their sudden appearance in Dean’s life, they adopt covers: Victor as Dean’s new co-worker and neighbor, Cas as his new boyfriend. Needless to say, Dean’s brother and his girlfriend are thrilled to see him in a relationship they believe to be real. Clearly, there’s no way this could go wrong.

Four Letter Word For Intercourse by bendingsignpost (Explicit, 228k words)

As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties. What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right? (It's probably a bad idea, but he really can't help himself.)

Light me up by tricia_16 (Explicit, 218k words)

Five years after participating in a life-changing threesome with his then-girlfriend and her friend Cas, Dean's single, comfortably bisexual, and has everything he's ever wanted except for that special someone to share his life with. When tragedy strikes, he and Cas are reunited in an unexpected way, and a split-second decision entangles their lives in ways neither of them could have predicted…

Not Part of the Plan by Annie D (scaramouche) (Explicit, 337k words)

Castiel's spent most of his adult life keeping his head down and staying out of trouble. This is a deliberate choice on his part, because as a cousin of the King, he'd rather stay unimportant and forgotten. This changes abruptly when King Michael decides that he has a better use for Castiel: he is to be wed to a noble member of the neighboring Republic, as part of an agreement between their two nations. Castiel knows he has to obey, but that doesn't mean he won't rebel in what small ways he can. Unexpectedly, his actions end up having far-reaching consequences.

one million fires burning by dothraki_shieldmaiden (Explicit, 248k words)

Dean Winchester teaches three classes a day, tutors after school, and chairs the English Department for Lawrence High School. He does enough. Unfortunately, his boss doesn't feel the same and informs him that he has a new job: co-coaching the school's trivia team. His co-coach? None other than the school's golden boy, Castiel Milton. Who Dean can't stand, for various reasons, all of which are valid, thank you very much. And the fact that Dean can't stop talking about the stick up Cas's, sorry, Milton's ass? Completely irrelevant.

Redux by emmbrancsxx0 (Explicit, 386k words)

Dean Winchester is dead. For decades, he, along with Castiel and Sam, has led a peaceful afterlife in heaven. He has everything he’s ever wanted: a home, his family and friends surrounding him, and a relationship with Cas—and he’s bored as hell. Until, one day, Chuck escapes heaven’s lock up and begins capturing souls to regain power. To stop him, Jack sends Dean, Cas, and Sam back to Earth. After so long away from hunting, will they be able to once again find their place in the family business?

Talk Some Sense To Me (Kenopsia) by ImYourHoneyBee (Explicit, 244k words)

Scrambling to his knees Castiel hugs back, burying his face in Dean’s neck, breath coming in fast little pants against his skin. Dean closes his eyes and just breathes him in, barely able to believe that this is real. At any other time in his life, closing his eyes against a threat like Death would be an inexcusable lapse in his hunter’s judgement. Right now, he doesn’t give a single fuck. Death can reap him for all he cares, he’ll die knowing Cas is going to be ok. Alive. “I will see you soon, Dean,” Death tells him, that deliberate voice of his soft enough not to intrude on the intimacy of the moment, “Raincheck on that grilled cheese.” “Thank you,” Dean croaks, propping his chin up on Cas’s shoulder, unmindful of the tears trickling down his cheeks, “Thank you.”

The Closest Thing We Have To Magic by EllenOfOz, TrenchcoatBaby (Explicit, 221k words)

Dean Winchester is a graduate student at Stanford University’s School of the Occult. A naturally-talented mage but a lazy professor and student, he figures he’ll coast through his final year the way he always has: with charisma, charm, and a natural aptitude for magic. All that changes when his thesis advisor, Dr. Castiel Novak, turns out to be the strictest and most challenging educator on-campus. Unfortunately for Dean, the uptight professor is nearly his age and infuriatingly gorgeous. But Castiel is keeping a secret, a powerful talent that’s more a curse than a blessing when he’s targeted by seditious parts of magical society. Can Dean and Cas put aside their animosity—and undeniable chemistry—long enough to instill real change in the magical community? Or will sinister plots and hidden agendas keep them apart?

To Build a Home by intothesilentland (Mature, 383k words)

Twenty-three years of head-over-heels, devastating devotion and love, love, love for the man with bright eyes and dark hair. Fourteen years of friends, best friends, of always together. One moment of rejection. Nine years of apart. Nine years of heartbreak, nine years of continents away, of not speaking, of no acknowledgement, no interaction, no closure, no peace. No happiness. Nine years of Dean’s life entering motions, going through them, constant, cold and mechanic, like clockwork. Nine years of alone. God. Nine years. A lot has changed. And yet Dean still loves Cas just the same. Even if his heart hurts all kinds of different.

Under The Midnight Sun by NorthernSparrow (Explicit, 232k words)

Dean Winchester’s been camp manager of a science research station on the Alaskan tundra for thirteen years. Dean likes his job; fixing the camp trucks, troubleshooting the generators, keeping clueless undergrads and NSF bigwigs from walking into grizzly bears or getting lost in snowstorms — it’s all in a day’s work. It keeps him pretty busy, and this year his brother Sam's visiting too, so he's even busier. So it’s really not any of Dean’s business when some weirdo antisocial ornithologist sets up a tent a few miles away, a dark-haired blue-eyed guy who’s doing a “very long-term" study on birds or wings or something, and who never, ever takes off his big lumpy backpack. But then the new guy starts dropping by camp for coffee and… well, he’s not officially part of camp; he's not Dean’s responsibility; he’s really not Dean’s problem at all, but when a strange blizzard comes sweeping in, Dean gets worried and goes to check. Thing is, Dean's spent years in the sweeping vistas of the Arctic. He knows all about the midnight sun and the northern lights, the ice caves and avalanches, the rough-and-ready Haul Road truckers and the even rougher-and-readier wild animals. But even so, what he finds is much more than he bargained for.

With Interest by everandanon (Explicit, 296k words)

Eighteen, bored, and not quite able to turn down the money, Cas agrees to an ill-advised bet, and Dean's heart isn't the only one that gets broken. Eleven years later, grieving his twin brother and struggling to take care of his niece, Cas finally returns home — only to meet Dean again and discover that the boy he left behind has grown up a lot. And now, Dean seems to have every intention of getting him back — with interest.

You can also check our >100k tag for all the longer fics we rec.

[hadesisqueer]

All past Avatars seem to have at least one fuckup or a regret that one or more of their next lives will have to deal with.

Szeto, quite literally, worked for the Fire Lord of his time. Although his work brought peace and prosperity to the Fire Nation, ending the conflicts that were destroying the islands, it also caused a centralization of the administration that would later allow Fire Lord Zoryu and his descendants to centralize all the power, which would end up leading to Sozin and the Hundred Year War. Since he seemed to prioritize the Fire Nation, he most likely neglected the rest of the world, too, which means that Yangchen had to step up more for international issues.

Yangchen was a highly revered Avatar to the point that she was deified; she helped the nations progress and flourish. However, focusing too much on human matters and always favoring humans, she neglected spirits. That led to Kuruk having to deal with the consequences.

Kuruk, unlike Yangchen, focused too much on Spirit World issues—to the point that it cost him his life and died very young—, seemingly neglecting human issues, causing the Peace of Yangchen's era to deteriorate very quickly. His premature death and apparent neglect led to Kyoshi having to deal with a very unstable world.

Kyoshi managed to stabilize the world during her extremely long life—in contrast to Kuruk's short life—and is remembered as a highly effective and respected Avatar. However, her big mistake and regret was the creation of the Dai Li, which would later help with the Conspiracy of Ba Sing Se, help Azula conquer the city or start kidnapping the new airbenders: overall, give Aang and Korra headaches.

Roku enjoyed relative stability at first after Kyoshi's death, though this didn't last that long; he lived through a industrial revolution and the rise of nationalism in more than one nation. He was a very diplomatic Avatar who managed to stop a war between the Northern Water Tribe and the Earth Kingdom, and became a respected Avatar. However, he was indecisive when it came to stopping his former friend Sozin, which was probably the biggest mistake and regret: it led to the genocide of a whole nation and a war that lasted a hundred years, leaving Aang to deal with it.

Aang ended the Hundred Year War and helped create a new nation where people from everywhere could leave peacefully. However, by letting Yakone live and escape prison, and failing to fully give nonbenders a voice in Republic City, caused Korra a lot of headaches with Amon and the equalists. Furthermore, another one of his biggest regrets was running away before the Air Nomad Genocide (although it was not really his fault, he was a child and an untrained Avatar and had he stayed, he probably wouldn't have been able to avoid it: he would have probably died too or been captured), and his biggest wish was to rebuild the Air Nation one day, which Korra did during her life, making up for what he thought was his biggest mistake.

Korra will probably have one of those mistakes/regrets too, and I really wonder what it'll be. We know it likely won't be neglect of neither spirituality or human issues like Yangchen or Kuruk, since she seems pretty focused on both. So far her biggest regret seems to be losing the ability to make contact with her past lives, so maybe it'll be that? The next Avatar will somehow manage to regain their connection with the rest of the past Avatars? Doesn't seem likely to me but idk. Or maybe more Red Lotus bullshit, since in the show they said that there were probably more members and Korra didn't stop them all? Idk

[ofmdrecaps]

11/19-20/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; David Fane; Samba Schutte; Megan Vertelle; Lindsey Cantrell; Damien Gerard; Dominic Burgess; Hugo Pierre Martin; ShopStands Black Friday Sale; Articles; Fan Spotlight: OFMD means Frames hosted by Ram & Tsutsuya!; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika Gifs.

Hey crew! I wanted to add a bit more but I'm already late and we've got a couple things coming down to the wire! If you wanna get in on the Auntie's Tiny Boats raffle being hosted by @ofmd-buys-boats's raffles you can until 23:59 Thursday 21st November 2024 (GMT) (WHICH IS TONIGHT)! That's not far away! Be sure to submit your entries!

= Rhys Darby =

The gigs just won't stop! Next up is Christchurch AoNZ! Christchurch Tickets

Source: Rhys' Instagram Stories

Rhys is also going to be at The Bell House, Brooklyn NY on Feb 22, and Feb 23! Get tickets at TheBellHouseNY.com

Source: Instagram

Australia Dates are also up! Get tickets at his website! PW: ROBOT for priority.

Rhys is going to be at the London on the 22nd for The Republic of Pirates with Vico, Con, Nathan, and Kristian!

Source: Rhys Darby's Bsky

And if there wasn't enough going on with Rhys:

Also, Final Fantasy XIV won a Clio for Best use of Influencer and Talent -- and by that they obviously mean Rhys!

Source: We Are Royale Instagram

== Taika Waititi ==

Taika is super excited about the Moana 2 Maori screening, he's sending out a PSA that you can help sponsor one to help others experience the wonderful Maori language!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Taika Waititi (@taikawaititi)

Wanna sponsor a screening of Moana 2 in Maori?

Visit watewamedia.nz

Source: Taika Waititi's Instagram

= David Fane =

Just a quick promo video with David Fane and the rest of the Moana 2 crew!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Walt Disney Animation Studios (@disneyanimation)

Source: DisneyAnimation Instagram

= Samba Schutte =

Samba and Damien's new game Call of Duty Black Ops 6 is up for Best Action Game at TheGameAwards! If you've played and would like to give it some love, you can vote for the game amongst others at TheGameAwards.com. (Note: You do need to sign up for an account to vote).

There are still hand signed pictures of Roach available at ShopStands! Get some cool merch and support charities here!

Samba also sent a little reminder to keep that scurvy away with an immoderate use of citrus!

Source: Samba's Instagram

= Megan Vertelle =

One of our fabulous set decorators -- Megan Vertelle was kind enough to help support the @ofmd-buys-boats charity raffle and send us some BTS for Zheng's ship as well!

Source: Megan Vertelle's Instagram

= Lindsey Cantrell =

Our dear Lindsey, who CREATED the tiny boats that are being raffled off in @ofmd-buys-boats's raffle is reminding you that entries end at 23:59 Thursday 21st November 2024 (GMT)! That's not far away! Be sure to submit your entries!

Source: Lindsey Cantrells Instagram Stories

= Damien Gerard =

Our dear Father Teach could use a pick me up, if you have a bsky account and a few spare minutes, would you be so kind as to send him some love? Quotes-- music, photos, anything that brings you joy <3

Source: Damien's Bsky

= Dominic Burgess =

The countdown is on! Our wonderful Jeffrey Fettering will be adding his talents to the new Skeleton Crew show!

Source: Dominic's Bsky

= Hugo Pierre Martin =

Our favorite valet from s1, Hugo Pierre Martin is calling out for some art submissions for his spotify series! "The next season of the audioseries will be called "The Seventh Son." The series will have icons for every episode and I'd like it to be some variation on this ancient symbol: The Oroboros. It can be: - A snake biting its own tail - A dragon biting its own tail - A blue Bunny dragon biting its own tail" Interesting in submitting something/checking out the submissions? Check out his Instagram!

Source: HPM's Instagram

== Stands Black Friday Sale ==

There's still OFMD merch available at shopstands! If you were thinking of picking some of these up this is a great time -- and it's for a good cause!

Source: ShopStands

== Articles ==

More articles about our favorite show, and our Captain talking about his new tour! Thanks so much to @adoptourcrew fand @ofmooshd for keeping us appraised!

Source: Moosh on Twitter

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Our Flag Means Frames - Moonlight Scene =

There's a new frames project hosted by Ram and @tsutsuya on Bsky! Here is the link to the full thread. The deadline will be the 31st of Janurary 2025! -- and you can sign up here! It looks like they've already shared so many frames that there are just some hand frames left so get in while you can!

Contact info:

Email: youwearfineframeswell@gmail.com

@tsutsuya.bsky.social

@panodtortur.bsky.social

Source: Ram's Bsky

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies! There are two things in this issue that are time sensitive and I'm running late as it is so I'm gonna make this short today! You're halfway through the work week if you work weekdays-- you are almost there crew! You can make it! <3 Sending some love notes from others for today <3

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by The New Happy® (@newhappyco)

Source: NewHappyCo Instagram

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by The New Happy® (@newhappyco)

Source: New Happy Co Instagram

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

I just have to re-share this look they give each other today. Today's gif courtesy of the lovely @captain-flint!

[dyns33]

The Mand'alor

HAPPY PEDRO DAY !!!

I wanted to do a tiny bit dark Mand'alor Din Djarin x reader, but the sweet part in me is really bad at this.

The whole galaxy had heard of the Mandalorians and their leader, the terrible Mand'alor, with his shining armor and his darksaber. A group of mercenaries, weapons fanatics, relentless killers.

They had fought against the Empire, they didn't like the Republic very much, and no one really dared to force them to follow the new rules. They had a code of honor, but also a lot of pride and temperament.

Y/N had never seen a Mandalorian. There wasn't much action on her little planet, even during the war. Few people stopped there, unless they had to, to find resources, rest, or hide for a while.

When the little green thing grabbed her leg in the street, she jumped. She almost kicked to get away, but her eyes met the child's, full of fear and hope, and Y/N stopped to lean closer to him.

He didn't speak, either because he was too young or because he used another language, but she couldn't get anything out of him by asking his name or what he was doing here. What was certain was that he was bleeding slightly from his right ear, and that he needed help.

Those who were running after the little one didn't take long to find them, following Y/N to her place. Luckily for her, they were also being followed.

She had never seen a Mandalorian, but she had heard the legends, and she watched this tall, armored man kill the attackers one by one without the slightest difficulty.

As soon as he finished, he approached her, who was holding the child in her arms, ready to defend him against this new threat.

“You’re alright ?” he asked with a calm voice, extending his hand towards the child who fidgeted, wanting to reach him.

"I won't let you hurt him."

"Oh, little me'suum'ika. I would never harm my ad. My son. These cowards pretended to be warriors to come in and kidnap him. Without you… Vor'e, mesh'la ! Thank you. You have all my gratitude. I want to show you all my gratitude, will you come with us ?"

There would have been several reasons to refuse to follow the stranger, clearly dangerous and masked, but the kid seemed to trust him completely, jumping on him as soon as Y/N let go of him a little.

The Mandalorian claimed to be his father, and he acted like one, patting his little head and whispering reassuring words, along with apologies for not having properly protected him.

His invitation was not an obligation, Y/N felt that he would not insist if she refused, but there was nothing very important on her planet, she had no family for a long time, and she never left this place. A little adventure would be fun.

The trip shouldn't last very long, just to please her as a thank you, before moving on.

There were some things she didn't know at the time.

First thing, a Mandalorian never forgot. Mando'ad draar digu. He would never move on.

Second thing, the leader of the Mandalorian forgot even less. Din Djarin, as he entrusted his name to her as an immense privilege, adored his son more than anything in the world. So he held Y/N in high regard for defending him when she didn't know the child and wasn't a fighter.

In addition, little Grogu seemed to have become very attached to her.

The last thing was whispered to her, even though it had been several weeks since she arrived on Mandalore, where she was treated like a true princess. Shyly, she asked when she would return home.

“Aren’t you happy here ?” asked Bo-Katan, the captain of the guard. "A simple word and our Mand'alor will do anything for your pleasure."

"Everything is perfect. I don't want to intrude too long by abusing your hospitality, that's all."

“Has anyone made a comment to you ?”

"No not at all." Y/N replied nervously.

No one said anything, but it was strange to be the only person not wearing armor all the time.

In the interest of fairness, the Mand'alor had allowed those who wished to remove their helmet, but he himself did not remove it in front of anyone, maintaining an old, almost fanatical belief.

However, he had not asked Y/N to convert, drawing the attention of his people to this new woman. They said nothing, but she felt their eyes on her.

“He will kill the first person who dares to criticize you.” Bo-Katan said before speaking lower. "It must be said… There is a werde in him. The sword is heavy to carry."

"I do not know this word."

"Just know that you are important to him. You help him a lot. Stay as long as you want."

It took her a bit longer to understand that she was more or less a prisoner. Free to roam the palace and the city, but not to leave Mandalore. Din Djarin wanted to keep her here.

The looks turned towards her were not full of hatred, but on the contrary of pity, mixed with a certain hope.

Since inheriting the darksaber, their leader was no longer the same. He hadn't completely lost his mind thanks to his son, but he had some moments of extreme, uncontrollable violence.

These attacks had calmed down a bit since Y/N’s arrival. No doubt Din didn't want to scare her or lower her esteem. There were rumors that she was his ori'copaad, which didn't entirely seem like a good thing.

“Uur !” he growled as the Armorer came to see him to talk politics. “I don’t care at all about the Republic.”

"Me too, Mand'alor, but we should receive them. They might try to harm us."

"They can try, they will fail. I have no chaab, none."

"Really, Mand'alor ?"

At that moment, Din turned his head towards Y/N, who was discreetly listening to them from the garden, Grogu snickering in her lap. He remained silent for a moment, before sighing.

"Fine. Contact them."

“Your aliit will be proud of this decision.”

More than not being able to leave, Y/N found this habit they had of going from basic to a language that she didn't understand quite painful. As if they were doing it on purpose.

The Mand'alor was the only one who made an effort with her, translating most of the unknown words. He only kept what seemed like nicknames a mystery.

“What does “mesh’la” mean ?”

“That means you, kar’ta.”

"And that ? What does that mean ?"

“Cyare, you ask a lot of questions.”

“And you don’t give many answers.”

“Mir’sheb.” he sneered, handing hier Grogu. She was the only one to whom he entrusted his son like this. "Your buir is a mir'sheb, like you. Give her a mureyca."

The child's hug, plus all of Din's attention, almost made her want to forgive him. Aside from the fact that she knew she wasn't allowed to leave, nothing made her want to leave.

But Y/N didn’t think she belonged here. She wasn't a Mandalorian, and as a leader, equivalent to a king, Din had no time to waste on her. Maybe she had saved his son, but she wasn't anything special.

Whenever he could escape his responsibilities, he would come with Grogu to watch her play with the child and talk about her.

He had to see that she had nothing interesting to offer.

This was why she tried to flee, by taking a ship. Her father had shown her how to fly before he died, it had been a long time. She therefore had to be discreet to have a maximum head start, to have a chance that they would lose her tracks.

Unfortunately Bo-Kanta had been very serious in telling her that she was important to Din. Her surveillance was as important as it was for Grogu. Her absence was quickly noticed, and reported to the Mand'alor.

Being the best tracker, he personally set out in pursuit, without having to yell at the others not to shoot at the stolen ship. They all knew what they were risking if Y/N got hurt.

"Dank farrik, cyare ! Y/N ! Stop !" She could hear him shouting into the communicator, what sounded like sadness in his voice. "Why are you leaving ? Vhey vencuyot… Cyare… Talk to me, tell me what's going on !"

It was very dangerous but she managed to lose him by passing through an asteroid field. Since it would be too obvious that she was going to return to her planet, she headed to a small system, landing on Tatooine.

Yet she had heard the legends. You couldn't escape the Mandalorians, and even less the Mand'alor.

This time, when a hand grabbed her arm, she didn't hold her foot. But beskar was a hard metal, and she probably did more harm to herself than to Din, who let go of her all the same, surprised by her reaction.

He didn't attempt to touch her again, simply following her as she ran through the alleys, begging her to listen to him.

Her run ended in a dead end, and that didn't seem to surprise the Mandalorian. He obviously knew this planet.

"Cyare… Why are you running from me ? Grogu misses you a lot. You… My commander told me that you can ignore what you really represent, but I don't dare believe that."

"I don't understand."

"Oh, mesh'la… As soon as I saw you with my son, I knew that my heart was yours, that I couldn't live without knowing that you were happy and safe. The missing part of my clan, of my life. Nor ceta, Y/N. I thought my intentions were clear. Will you forgive me ? Will you accept… Come home with me, gedet'ye. I beg you."

After everything he had done, she wasn't sure he would take no for an answer. But Din had never hurt her since they met. He had always been gentle and patient. If she could have seen his face, it would probably have been more obvious that he was looking at her with complete devotion.

Seeing that she didn't say no, he approached slowly, until his helmet touched her forehead. She then heard him sigh in relief.

Y/N had seen some Mandalorians do this. Bo-Katan had explained that it was a mirshmure'cya, a keldabe kiss. A very important form of privacy for those of them who did not remove their full armor.

She wondered if she would ever see him if she stayed. For a while she had imagined his face, until he told her that Grogu had been adopted. It would be a terrible offense to ask him for this sacrifice. But he asked him to stay locked up in his palace.

"I would like to see you." she whispered, trying not to tremble.

"See me ?"

"Yes. I mean, I like you a lot. I like Grogu. But I would like to know what you look like."

“Will that change anything ?”

"… No." Y/N said honestly. “I’m just curious.” To see his face, but also if he would do this for her, he who said he would do anything.

There was a moment of silence, of hesitation. Then Din nodded, reaching for his helmet to remove it. Immediately, Y/N placed her hands on his to stop him.

"But… Your vows…"

"Cyare. My sweet cyare. I have the right to remove my helmet in front of my aliit. You have been part of my clan since the moment our paths crossed."

“But you’ve never done this before.”

"I didn't dare… I didn't want to disappoint you and… I wanted to wait for our riduurok. I haven't properly wooed you for that yet."

"If you are… If you are sure, show me."

“Anything for you, cyare.”

He was younger than she had imagined. More handsome too, with his black eyes and his little intimidated, almost frightened pout. Din let her look at him without moving, displaying an expression of complete satisfaction when she touched his cheek.

He only stopped her when she tried to kiss him.

"Not here."

"Why not ?"

"I wouldn't be able to control myself. And I'd rather we were at home than in a dark alley for that."

The entire galaxy heard of the Mand'alor's marriage to the woman who had saved his son. The only two people who didn't risk his fury, who had some control over him, and for whom he was ready to burn everything if anything happened to them.

Some madmen tried to approach his clan, as they had tried to take Grogu. Rumors of what had happened to them were enough to stop all further attempts.

Even after Y/N managed to convince Din to bring her with him to the few extra-planetary missions he carried out, because she could no longer stand the life of a stay-at-home queen.

"No."

"Please."

"No."

“He’ll bang on the glass until you do.”

“Pato.” Grogu confirmed, fidgeting in his mother's arms.

"… Fine. But this is the last time."

“Of course, riduur.”

“Cyare.” Din purred, a hand settling on her leg, as he activated hyperspace to please their child.

[stareyeds]

Luke Skywalker + TV Tropes

A TV trope is a common or expected use of characters, situations, settings, and time periods across a specific genre of television. Tropes are similar to clichés, but on a larger scale, and can be used to help guide the audience through a story in a familiar wa

Notes: All of these TV Tropes can be found on the TV Tropes website, below we will find some (not all) tropes that refer to Luke Skywalker.

Child of Forbidden Love: He and his sister were the result of Anakin's and Padmé's union since Anakin and Padmé were in a Secret Relationship due to Republic- era Jedi being forbidden to marry.

All-Loving Hero: Luke is very compassionate and caring towards others; he immediately wants to rescue Leia from the Empire upon learning she's on the Death Star with them and will drop everything to help his friends in need. He even believes that Darth Vader, the right-hand man to Emperor, can be redeemed, even though Obi-Wan, Yoda, and Vader himself has denied this. And he's proved right. He is more than willing to sacrifice himself to save the galaxy and manages to indirectly defeat the Emperor himself with The Power of Love.

Ancestral Weapon: His father's lightsaber. After losing it in his duel with Vader on Bespin, he builds his own and makes a point of telling this to Vader to show that he won't let his heritage define who he is.

The Apprentice: During Luke's Jedi training, he was first taught by Obi-Wan Kenobi before the former's murder by Vader and then received his final teachings by Yoda.

Badass Adorable: A sweet-tempered and kind-hearted boy who sincerely cares about everyone in a dark and uncaring universe and is an unstoppable sentinel of justice against the forces of cruelty and darkness.

Blue Is Heroic: He uses a blue-bladed lightsaber originally owned by his father when he starts his journey to become a Jedi and Rebel hero until he loses it at the end of The Empire Strikes Back.

Character Development: Over the original trilogy, he goes from a naïve Farm Boy who can be somewhat whiny and impulsive to an experienced and composed Jedi Knight who tells the Emperor to shove it and brings his father back to the good side.

Darker and Edgier: Luke's Character Development in Return of the Jedi. Luke's entrance sees him Force-choking two guards to get them out of his way, just to emphasize how much he has changed since his first appearance in the saga.

Dark Is Not Evil: Luke wears black throughout Return of the Jedi (as opposed to brighter colors) to represent his turmoil and struggle over a possible Face–Heel Turn. When he overcomes the Emperor's temptations and causes the destruction of the Sith, his black coat falls open to reveal it had a white lining, meaning that he was always wearing white the whole time. It's mentioned in some making-of specials that the outfit is very similar to what Luke wore in A New Hope, but the all-black color scheme makes it more "Jedi-like".

The Dreaded: Though Luke is not fully trained as a Jedi, Emperor Palpatine fears that he will become this to the Sith and for good reason. This example contains a TRIVIA entry. It should be moved to the TRIVIA tab.Word of God states that Luke Skywalker's Force potential is the same as his father if he had not been horribly injured on Mustafar. Such fear is quickly replaced by opportunity when both Sith Lords realize the implication.

Darth Sidious: He could destroy us. Darth Vader: He's just a boy. Obi-Wan could no longer help him. Darth Sidious: The Force is strong with him. The son of Skywalker must not become a Jedi. Darth Vader: If he could be turned, he would become a powerful ally. Darth Sidious: …Yes. He would be a great… asset. Can it be done? Darth Vader: He will join us or die, Master.

In The Mandalorian second season finale, as soon as Moff Gideon sees Luke on his light cruiser security feed mowing down his Dark Troopers, his attitude quickly shifts from smug to terrified to the point where he considers shooting himself before Luke arrives on the Bridge.

Emerald Power: He Took a Level in Badass between The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, and during that time, he constructs a new lightsaber for himself with a green blade.

Face Death with Dignity: Throughout the last stage of the Battle of Endor, Luke goes out of the way to say that he'll die along with everyone else on the Death Star II, and has calmly accepted the fact. He ends up dropping the "dignity" part of this when he refuses to kill his father and is subsequently tortured by the Emperor, as he begs for Darth Vader to save his life. It works, and it allows Anakin to Face Death with Dignity. In the end, Luke lives after all.

Genius Bruiser: Luke is very intelligent and can use the Force to amplify his strength. A great example is the rescue of Princess Leia from the Death Star in A New Hope, where Luke CARRIES the entire group in one scene. By "Return of the Jedi", he can even outmuscle Darth Vader's cybernetic enhancements.

The Gift: Luke's connection to the Force is equal to his father. Without proper training and only a few tips from Obi-Wan, he was able to let the force guide his hand when blowing up the Death Star. Later, he was able to (with effort) force pull his lightsaber from ice while trapped in a cave on Hoth. By his mid twenties, Luke's Force abilities far exceed a typical Jedi Master.

Good Counterpart: To Darth Vader.

Good Is Not Soft: Especially in Return of the Jedi. For a film that showed the heroes as more Incorruptible Pure Pureness, some viewers were surprised to see Luke using powers generally associated with the Sith like the Force-choke. In this instance, it was used to demonstrate he was sliding towards The Dark Side.

Heroic Lineage: Luke's father, Anakin, was a Jedi before him. Luke later followed in his father's footsteps and became a Jedi himself. His mother was also seen as a hero on her homeworld of Naboo and a champion of peace and democracy in the old Republic.

Historical Villain Upgrade: In the eyes of Imperial sympathizers in the New Republic and the First Order itself, he’s seen as the man who turned Darth Vader from the Empire’s Number 1 guy into the one who murdered Palpatine in cold blood, while helping the Rebel Alliance found the illegitimate and illegal New Republic and trying to revive the Jedi, a group of people Palpatine himself worked so hard to destroy.

Hope Bringer: Both he and Leia's birth at the end of Revenge of the Sith represent the new hope in the shambles of the Republic that the new Empire was built upon for Yoda, Obi-Wan, and the small militant senators, like Bail Organa, who would form the Rebel Alliance.

While the title of A New Hope can also represent the Rebellion as a means of bringing the Empire's tyranny to an end, and even to Leia to a lesser extent, it most obviously applies to Luke himself. Luke ends up embodying Anakin's subconscious desire to be redeemed, and he himself expresses strong hopes of turning Anakin back to the light side, which he ultimately accomplishes. Coincidentally, his new lightsaber in Return of the Jedi emits a green blade, this being the first green-bladed lightsaber ever seen before the production of the Prequel Trilogy and its spinoffs (although actually the green color used for this new lightsaber was chosen in real life for different reasons, and not specifically to represent this theme of hope).

The Idealist: Has an idealistic view of the galaxy, and of his father.

Kung-Fu Jesus: Since he's a Messianic Archetype who's also a Jedi.

Messianic Archetype: Although his father is The Chosen One, Luke's character has the closest resemblance to Christ. He gains a group of devoted individuals ( Han, Leia, Chewie, C-3P0, and R2-D2), gallivants about spreading good, and ends up performing miracles like blowing up the Death Star. At the end of the sixth movie, he refuses the temptation of the Dark Side, then is zapped by the Emperor's lightning (his "death" scene). This act of selflessness would restore faith and bring forth a new golden age for his people.

In media, the Messianic Archetype is a character whose role in the story (but not necessarily personality) echoes that of Christ. They are portrayed as a savior, whether the thing they are saving is a person, a lot of people or the whole of humanity. They endure a sizable sacrifice as the means of bringing that salvation about for others, a fate they do not deserve up to and including death or a Fate Worse than Death. Other elements may be mixed and matched as required but the Messianic Archetype will include one or more of the following:

The Chosen One True Companions who follow him Betrayal by one of those followers Persecution by nonbelievers Crucified Hero Shot (or other parallels to the Passion Play) Figurative or literal resurrection A Second Coming Literally having the initials 'J.C.' The Redeemer Dressing like Jesus

Last of His Kind: He is said to be the last Jedi Knight to be alive (after Yoda's death) and serves as the foundation for a new Jedi Order. Yoda: Luke, when gone am I… the last of the Jedi will you be. Pass on what you have learned.

Living Legend: The guy blew up the Death Star on his first official day of joining the Rebellion. Top that.

The Ace: By "Return of the Jedi", Luke is definitely this. It's to be expected from The Chosen One's heir.

Military Mage: Commander Skywalker's nascent Force reflexes make him a natural Ace Pilot and are directly responsible for the destruction of the first Death Star in the Battle of Yavin. The power of having a Force-user on the field is demonstrated again in the Battle of Hoth, where he is able to take down a powerful AT-AT walker on foot using only a lightsaber and a thermal detonator.

Mirror Character: His father, Anakin. Both grew up on the same desolate desert planet before being taken away to train as Jedi Knights under Obi-Wan Kenobi. Both are tempted by the Dark Side to protect their loved ones, but Luke's horror at the realization he is becoming like this father, down to their mechanical right hands, narrowly saves him from falling as Anakin did. Luke's faith in his father manages to save Anakin as well.

One-Man Army: An incredibly powerful soldier and Jedi. If one Imperial account is to be trusted, Luke once brought down an airborne Star Destroyer by jumping from the surface of Jakku and slashing it with the Force. He cuts down Jabba’s numerous goons like butter in Return Of The Jedi without breaking a sweat.

Superior Successor: To Anakin as Vader. This example contains a TRIVIA entry. It should be moved to the TRIVIA tab.Word of God says Luke inherited Anakin's full potential, hence why Palpatine sought after him as a disciple, since Vader was plagued with immense wounds and inner conflict at that point. By Return of The Jedi, he may very well be stronger than his father (though it's unclear, as Vader is very obviously holding back out of love), but he certainly grew beyond him by The Mandalorian.

Turn Out Like His Father: The efforts to keep Luke from being like his father (who, This example contains a YMMV entry. It should be moved to the YMMV tab.as we all know, went evil) occupy three separate characters: Owennote , Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Yoda. In Return of the Jedi, Luke realizes that he's dangerously close to invoking this trope after he cuts off Vader's cybernetic right hand and looks down at his own cybernetic right hand. This prompts him to deactivate and discard his lightsaber so that he won't be tempted any further.

Twin Telepathy: With Leia to an extent, beginning in The Empire Strikes Back. She hears him calling out to her through the Force and is able to locate him in Cloud City. In Return of the Jedi, she is able to sense that Luke wasn't on the Death Star when it blew up.

The Unchosen One: In a sense, compared to his father. Anakin was revealed as the Chosen One from age 9 and experienced firsthand both the positives and negatives of the Jedi Order. Darth Sidious (Palpatine) targeted Anakin for exactly this reason, amplifying the negatives and downplaying the positives until the Jedi's own Chosen One became the Sith's greatest weapon. Luke, on the other hand, experienced the exact opposite and became a hero because of it. Seeing Luke tortured led Vader to Heel–Face Turn and kill the Emperor, helping bring peace to the galaxy. Thus, fulfilling the prophecy of the "one who will bring balance to the Force", all thanks to Luke.

Unskilled, but Strong: After his Jedi training with Yoda, Luke is this, gaining abilities and strength in only a few months what takes most Jedi years. By the time he leaves for Bespin, he is connected to the Force, can feel it unconsciously, and manipulate it freely. That said, he had yet to learn fine control and had no real experience using the force in a combat situation. Likewise, even in Jedi, his lightsaber technique is a lot more raw and straightforward than that of the old Jedi, as he was a mostly self-taught duelist that didn't have the benefits of thousands of years of Jedi knowledge or an abundance of trainers or sparring partners.

Unstoppable Rage: During his final duel in Return of the Jedi…until he realizes he's following in his father's footsteps and calms himself.

Warrior Prince: He's Leia's biological brother, and, thus, son of Queen Padmé Amidala of Naboo.

World's Strongest Man: Word of God explains that Luke inherited Anakin's full potential in the Force, which exceeds all Jedi and Sith in history. With Obi-Wan, Yoda, Anakin, and Palpatine having died, Luke may very well be this at the end of Return of the Jedi.

Word of God: A statement regarding some ambiguous or undefined aspect of a work, the Word of God comes from someone considered to be the ultimate authority, such as the creator, director or producer. Such edicts can even go against events as were broadcast, due to someone making a mistake.

Notes: This comes to the end of this thread - a large portion of the TV Tropes were not included as this would be a long and drawn out post but all of the tropes can be found at the link below - there are for those interested TV Tropes on Legends!Luke Skywalker and Sequels!Luke Skywalker

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Characters/StarWarsLukeSkywalker

[beskarthief]

Chapter 1 of the Star Wars fic "Order 65". The rest can be found here.

Chapter One: Consequences

19 BBY, Coruscant, Senate District

 All of that; the deception, the risks, the death. And for what?

 For one pawn in a much greater game to pay the price for his allegiances? Riyo didn't have time to take down the Empire one corrupt politician at a time. This was war. The Clone Wars may have ended, but the battles had not. They had simply taken on a new face.

 She was glad that Rampart would pay the price for his crimes, not only against the Empire, but the people it was supposed to protect as well. But she couldn't help feeling that today had been a loss. 

 After all she had done and all she had asked of those clones - all they had risked - she had still been played. The Empire's new troops would have no lingering loyalties to the Republic that once was, only to the Empire that was steadily growing in strength every day. And the clones who had died for her and the rest of this galaxy would be further pushed aside. 

 The thought sickened her. The fact that she had ultimately played a role in it even more so. 

 As soon as the meeting had adjourned she had left, sweeping from her pod and hurrying down the hall so as not to be stopped by anyone. She did not have it in her right now to make pleasantries with her fellow senators, especially when she knew every word out of their mouths would be praise for her investigations into what had really happened on Kamino.

 But she didn't deserve the credit for any of that. Nor did it feel like something to celebrate right now.

 So she swept quickly down the hall and managed to brush by her fellow senators with little more than a nod and a smile of gratitude at their kind words. Her bodyguards, those that were left, lengthened their strides to keep pace with her.

 She was almost free when a familiar voice called from behind her. "Ah, Senator! I was hoping to catch you before you left."

 Riyo took in a deep breath, painted a smile across her face, and turned to face the man in the hall behind her.

 "My Emperor! It was a surprise to see you at the meeting."

 "A pleasant one, I hope?" he drawled.

 "Of course." she assured him, smile unwavering. "What is it that you wanted to address?"

 "Ah, yes." he shook his head sadly. "Not a happy matter, I am afraid. These are dangerous times, Senator." he continued, falling into step beside her. Together, the pair of them continued towards the lift that would lead them above to the docking bay.

 "But, you are well aware of  that." The Emperor said. "I was alarmed to hear that during your investigations you very nearly lost your life."

 Riyo's stride almost faltered, but she kept it steady. Of course he knew. Before she could reply, he continued.

 "The truth can often be dangerous, senator." The Emperor told her, as though she didn't already know. "But I am sure that won't top you."

 "The truth may be dangerous, Emperor." Riyo replied. "But it is also the foundation upon which our galactic order is founded. Is that not worth fighting for?"

 "Of course it is, my dear." The Emperor replied, hood concealing his face. "And that is precisely why I wanted to speak with you."

 By this time they had reached the landing pad, and Riyo was surprised to see a squad of clones standing before her ship. All of them snapped to attention as they approached. Coruscant Guard. She recognized the red markings on their armor. 

 "These are dangerous times, Senator." The Emperor repeated, waving a wrinkled hand to gesture at the assembled soldiers before them. "And I would hate for something to happen when I could have helped prevent it. Please, allow me to assist in your protection. So that you may continue your fight for truth without fear."

 "My Emperor-" she began, searching for an excuse. But there were none. "Thank you. I appreciate your support through all of this."

 "Of course, Senator Chuchi. You are a true servant of the Empire." He said, a small smile playing across his thin lips. "As much as I would enjoy hearing more of your findings, I am afraid I must leave you now. There are many matters that require my attention."

 “I appreciate you taking this time to come speak with me. And for your support in the senate."

 "The pleasure was all mine, senator."

 She bet it was. But the smile remained across her face as he turned and left her there, flanked by her bodyguards and facing the consequences of her actions. 

 She allowed herself a single breath and let the smile slide from her face. Her shoulders drooped as her composure dropped, but just as quickly as it had gone it returned and she straightened up again and smiled at the troopers assembled before her.

 The one in the lead saluted her, "At your service, ma'am."

 "At ease, trooper." she said, approaching. They owed her no such respect. Not after how much she'd just lost them. Did they even know? 

 The trooper didn't seem very at ease, though he gave the impression of someone who was trying to be. If anything, that made her feel worse. Riyo had spoken to enough lying bureaucrats to know how to read body language, and though the trooper's expressions were hidden beneath their helmets, she could tell they were on edge. 

 "What's your name, trooper?" she asked in hopes of easing the tension, stopping before him.

 "CC-1010, ma'am." he recited, tone flat.

 She considered trying to explain to him that she wasn't like the others, that she knew they had names. That she cared that they had names. But she didn't have the energy, not for trying to convince him or the inevitable gratitude at being treated like a living being. It was always there, in their eyes. Whether they thought you saw it or not. She didn't know if she could take it, today. 

 And so she chose to be selfish. "A pleasure to meet you." Riyo replied, her voice equally hollow. And then she swept up the boarding ramp of her ship and took her seat. 

 Her guards took their places in the cockpit and after a moment of silence, the engines rumbled to life. The vessel was small, just big enough to ferry her and her aids about Coruscant and back to Pantora when required. But now it was crowded as the clones followed her aboard and took their places around her, as though she were in danger from the very air inside the ship. 

 None of them spoke for the duration of the flight, which was thankfully brief, as her apartments were not far from the senatorial building. But still the silence felt stretched and thin, almost weary. When they landed, the clones stepped out before her and swept first the landing area and then her quarters for any signs of a threat. She was only permitted to step off the shuttle once they had declared it clear, and from there she went directly to her rooms.

 Of the five clones that made up the unit, two flanked the doors that led onto the landing pad, two the doors to her private quarters, and one paced the perimeter just outside. She supposed her guards could benefit from a night off, so dismissed them to their own chambers. They would reconvene in the morning and decide what to do.

 But even after they had gone and she was left with her new ensemble, she hesitated.

 "Don't even clones need to sleep?" she asked the one who appeared to be their leader. Perhaps she could call back her guards and arrange some sort of a shift.

 "Your security is our top priority, senator." he replied, misunderstanding. "We won't let you down."

 "I know..." she let the sentence trail off, wondering how much of a threat Palpatine deemed her as. Sargeant? Captain?

 "Commander." the clone supplied after a moment.

 Ah. A smile tugged at the corner of her lip. She felt oddly flattered.

 "Well, Commander, I appreciate the reassurance."

 He gave her a nod before returning to his patrol of the perimeter and she slipped inside her rooms and closed the door. After a moment, she locked it as well.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

In one of your last posts about Matt and Katya, you mentioned Alfred and Ivan’s dynamic, and that perhaps there is more beyond the hate sex they have had.

Do you mind expanding on that? What is your interpretation of their relationship, if it can even be called that?

LMAO god, gonna make me use the two and a half years I spent special interesting my way through Eastern European history on my way to a degree in 20th Century history, are you? About time I did lmao. Alfred/Ivan is one of those ships I don't enjoy purely as a ship, but it's so compelling. Much too compelling to the history to leave out entirely.

So, at the dawn. You have this old state in Ivan, considered backwards and rural by the Western European imperial powers, which has largely lost its verve for even trying most of the time. He has usurped his sister, who built most of their culture and claimed the power he has from the remnants of several cultures and expanded eastwards. And he comes across this young upstart, similarly held on the fringe of the powers of Western Europe. He's had similar obsessions with Jan when the Dutch Republic was new and a lasting one with François when he was the heart of European culture. Moreover, he's not only interested in and admiring of Alfred and the American experiment, but Ivan likes Alfred. Everyone likes Alfred. It's impossible not to like Alfred. There's an affection and attachment, a kind of love if I want to push. By the 19th century, Ivan wished him success because he and Arthur were locked into the Great Game in Central Asia. He spites Arthur, Matt, and Katya by selling Alaska to Alfred when he and Russia can no longer benefit. He's happy to raise a glass to American success. Alfred was touched by the gestures during his Civil War and the purchase of Seward's Icebox.

Afterwards, things declined quite quickly. Between the end of the American Civil War and the beginning of World War One, over 3 million people from the Russian Empire settled in the United States. But less than 5% of them were ethnic Russians. Most are Jewish, Polish and Lithuanian. Feliks mostly stays in Poland, a firebrand devoted to his survival, but Alfred meets Tolys, and he loves him. He lives with Tolys and his memories, perceptions, and opinions. Matt is up to his tonsils in Katya any moment he possibly can be, with a mouth full of their father's loathing of Ivan and a chest heaving with Katya's life. Alfred is increasingly their father's heir. The Pacific acquisition of Alaska was just the first step. If Alfred is the Christ to Arthur's God and lord knows he thinks of himself as a saviour, the Russian empire just looks shittier and shittier.

But he still has that reputation of being an outsider. He's not quite in with the European powers. He brokers the end to Russia's ultimate humiliation against Japan. Ivan, to a certain if somewhat limited extent, believes Alfred's bullshit. The deal is fairer than he would have otherwise gotten. But this is the high point of the pre-war Kiku, and Alfred's strange, tense and intimate relationship and opinion is still vastly with Japan during the war.

Then comes the Russian Revolution and the Polar Bear Expedition. Alfred is keener to do business with Ivan's new government when revolution breaks out. It must be an improvement over the Tsar, surely. He's not entirely in his complete form yet; he gets looped into the Entente's support, but he's pretty vocal about this thin line of hope that this may go well. The way his revolution went. There's this brief moment where Ivan and Alfred look at the world with a thought to a common future. They're looking at each other again with an ancient hope, maybe some mutual admiration. This may work. Maybe Ivan will get his shit together. Maybe Alfred won't become the heir to Arthur's Great Game. Maybe, maybe.

And then it goes up in fucking flames. Even American leftists became disillusioned with the USSR somewhat quickly. He helped lay down new states in the newly free Eastern Europe; God knows Tolys and Matt are doing their best to keep Alfred on-side. It took almost fifteen years, until 1933, for the US to acknowledge the USSR. Alfred is repulsed by the USSR even if he does cool his jets as interwar isolationism has slowed the process of him stepping into the fray as the head of his family.

By World War Two, Alfred is happy to write his redemption story and just dump treasure and materiel at the USSR. He's the balance of power between Arthur and Ivan, and Ivan is delighted to see Alfred snap at Arthur whenever he fucking pleases. But he's also miserable that he is the one dragging himself on his belly over the broken glass and ruins of Eastern Europe and doing the largest share against the Nazis. But there's a little hope that Alfred and Ivan will rule the world when this is over and find common ground in their power. It's only in the waning days of the war when Alfred's clearly suffering from the campaign in the Pacific and Eisenhower lets Zhukov have Berlin, that they shack up in some way or form. Alfred has more hope than Ivan, but Ivan is at least a little satisfied to see that Alfred has had a piece carved out of his idealism by his war against Japan.

It doesn't last. Alfred might be happy to take Arthur down a notch, but when the crown comes upon his head, as has been arranged, he wears it with a certain ease no one expected. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, but what is the weight to a man who fancies himself Atlas and Prometheus all in one. And it comes with the confidence to hate Ivan's ideas and opinions even as he revels in their fucking. Sex isn't love, and the feelings he gets throughout all of it are not love to Alfred. I still somewhat adhere to the thought that McCarthy almost denounced Alfred as both a communist sympathizer and a homosexual in the 1950s for this apparent attachment, but the intelligence apparatus intervened and prevented it.

And that is where I will leave off because I'm damn near at 1000 words RIP.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do one for who (other than Lewis) would run in a Pelican Town Mayoral Election, and who each townsfolk would vote for?

Hey hey 👋

I got a little carried away with the answer because it's a pretty interesting topic. 😅Thanks for the question, btw!

So...

Who would be a candidate for the position of Pelican Town Mayor besides Lewis?

_____________________________

The first candidate:

The first person who definitely has a good chance of winning a mayoral election is... us, i.e. our Farmer OC. Because we've been able to do in a couple of years what Lewis (and probably anyone else) couldn't do in decades. We have raised the image of the town as a whole, making it important both economically and touristically. The residents themselves will immediately notice this because we literally won a Stardew Hero Award by rebuilding the Community Centre.

However... when you think about it, our merits may play right into Lewis' favour because all of these improvements to the town happened during his very reign. Plus the fact that according to some residents' comments, no one really knows that we did it all (with Junimos help, but still). "Did you hear that, Farmer? The bus has been restored. It's a miracle!", "Somehow, the old minecart started working again" - key words is "someone" and "somehow", not our Farmer's name. Like... really, "a miracle"? It is a "miracle" that the town is still a town, not an abandoned unknown settlement.

If everyone knows that the building of Pam and Penny's new house, the rebuilt bus, the minecart and the Community Centre are to our credit, then the opinion of Pelican Town residents will be unanimous. Even Marnie and Robin will vote for Farmer. Not because they dislike Lewis, but because they think he deserves a peaceful retirement. Marnie also secretly hopes that after he retires, the two of them can finally stop hiding their relationship from the public.

The second candidate:

The second candidate who can take Mayor's place is Morris, the manager of the powerful and greedy Joja Co., which is the main antagonist in the game. But! This will only happen with the obligatory participation of our Farmer OC.

The situation will be something similar to Lewis, which I described earlier: Morris will simply appropriate all the laurels and honours for himself. Despite the fact that it was Farmer who was the gold wallet the main sponsor, almost all the improvements and fixes in Pelican Town took place under the huge Joja.co logo. And since the town had become a more important part of the Ferngill Republic, the head of the corporation would definitely want near-absolute power here, so they could order Morris to take part in the election. He won't mind, because it will be a good cash flow, fame and recognition of his important persona by his superiors, and the rest of the routine and mayor duties can be dumped on the other workers.

When it comes to the actual voting, the people of Pelican Town are split into two sides - it's going to be a pretty heated debate. Pierre and his family will definitely be against it, because for them - it means the end of Pierre's little shop business. For the others, it also means not very pleasant changes: for Robin and Demetrius - cutting down trees for resources and disturbing the ecosystem; for Linus and Willy - more Joja trash in local waters; for Penny - constant discounts on beer in JojaMart, which her mother can't resist....

The other side will insist that Joja is the future and progress. Jodi will admit that it's very profitable to shop there, Haley will be happy that town will finally have more supermarkets and other delights like in Zuzu City. Shane and Sam will vote for Morris either because they were forced into it by Morris himself as still the current manager or after promises of a salary increase. The others who took a more or less neutral stance will be tried to be bribed by Joja co. As a last resort, Morris and his superiors will start influencing even the Governor, explaining what an perfect candidate Morris is. The decision is still up to the people of Pelican Town, but there will definitely be pressure.

The other candidates:

PS: In "Stardew Valley Expanded" mod, if Farmer chooses Joja path, Morris will just run for mayor, become mayor (with our help again), and settle into a new home in Stardew Valley. Morris himself in the mod appears as a misunderstood character who does want the best for Pelican Town, it's just that his concept of "best" is different. I decided to describe Morris the way I imagined him when I first played Stardew Valley, without mods (and there's no information about him in the vanilla version, so it's our guesses and headcanons).

About the other candidates... Frankly speaking, no one else comes to mind, because the others either lack the appropriate skills for management, or they are full of their own worries, and do not want to stress themselves with mayor's duties. The same Robin gives herself to the construction of farm buildings and houses, Marnie prefers the company of her cows and goats, without Willy there is no one to supply fish and seafood, etc. Even Pierre, who dreams of a successful rich life as owner of his stores, will not want to take such responsibility. All the bachelors and bachelorettes are busy with their hobbies and interests, other residents do not care about all these elections.

So, that's the answer: Farmer, or Morris!

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for stopping the Clock?

I (46, M) have lived what could be referred to as a "charmed life" so far. The son of immigrant parents, yes, but having pretty much seamlessly integrated into the life of a privileged American, I was born with an unnaturally great well of intellectual potential that frequently alienated me from my schoolboy peers. I had a successful career in the field of crime prevention for many years, and, when the time came for me to retire early due to a federal conflict of interest, I used the renown I'd earned to get a leg up in the field of industry. For a fleeting moment, it felt as though I had no more worlds to conquer. But, as I soon remembered, there's no real point in trying to leave your mark on the world when the future of said world seemed as bleak as it seemed in those days.

I won't bore you by going over recent sociopolitical events; I'm sure you've been reading about it in the morning paper, where it's persistently made the front page at least once a week ever since the '79 bombing of Beirut. All you need to know is that I was just as scared of the looming threat of thermonuclear Armageddon as the average Joe. Hell, if anything, I was probably even more scared, as I was able to conceptualize what would happen to mankind afterwards. The thought of society being dragged back into the primitive Dark Ages because of the selfishness and hate of generals and politicians, instead of further being uplifted into a global technological utopia free of prejudice and despair, was almost too much for me to bear. I felt an irresistible need to do something before everything was destroyed.

Then, one night, I found myself watching reruns of an early '60s TV show called "the Outer Limits". I saw one particular episode, "the Architects of Fear", that depicted a world in a similar state to the one we're living in now, and the plan the scientists in the episode formulated to avert the crisis gave me an idea. The world needed a powerful enemy to unite against, one that belonged to no Earthly race, creed, or nation that could be vilified in the aftermath. The world needed an alien invasion. If the late Enrico Fermi was correct in his calculations, then that meant that there were no aliens to invade us.

And that meant that someone would have to make one instead.

I know, it sounds so cheesy, almost like something the villain of one of those old Republic film serials would come up with, but bear with me. I'd been researching the once-thought-impossible sciences of teleportation and bio-augmentation, both of which had been successful thus far, and had access to a remote and secluded location far from any government oversight. The plan was to create an entirely new organism impossible to recognize as anything originating on Earth, teleport it to the center of a globally-significant metropolitan area, and let the whole world unite to take it down. The death toll would be massive, yes, but it would be nothing compared to the billions in every nation that would be doomed to either suffer agonizing deaths from radiation poisoning or writhe mindlessly in unending post-civilization riots if the Doomsday Clock hit midnight and nuclear war broke out worldwide. Think of it like how fire departments sometimes use controlled burns to stop the progress of actual wildfires.

Of course, like all great plans, every part didn't line up exactly with what I'd accomplished. It was especially hard to find anyone actually willing to help me with it. Case in point: an old colleague of mine, Mr. B (61, M), just so happened to stumble across the location where I was growing the organism. He had previously served in the field of combat, as well as being a bit of a nihilist and a highly controversial figure in general, so I expected him to understand the necessity of fighting fire with fire, so to speak, or at least to find it bleakly funny and stay out of my way. To my surprise, he did neither of those. He called me a madman- a clear case of the pot calling the kettle black- and expressed his intention to go forward to the media with what he'd learned. I ultimately had to kill him to prevent him from telling everyone.

I barely had enough time to contemplate what I'd just done when another figure from my past, of whom I have even less positive things to talk about, came back into my life to inform me that he would be investigating the death of Mr. B- I never bothered to learn his name, so let's just call him "Mr. A" (probably older than me, M). Thankfully, the rude, unkempt, borderline insane little creep had a hypothesis entirely different as to what was going on, so I let him go in the moment and immediately set out to cover my tracks as best as I could. And I did a good job of it, too, if I do say so myself. I won't elaborate on exactly what happened, but I made several more morally-questionable decisions- and, in the end, it was enough for me to pull through. It was crazy enough to work, and it worked. I did it.

As soon as the organism was set loose, an outright homicidal Mr. A showed up at my front door, bringing with him even more ex-colleagues of mine- Mr. D (40, M), Ms. J (36, F), and, surprisingly, Dr. O (56-ish, M-ish), a man involved in an earlier step of my plan who, for a variety of reasons, I was genuinely frightened to see. The battle was brief and bloody, claiming the life of a beloved pet of mine as collateral damage. However, I was able to show them the fruits of my labour just in time- the entire world had lost track of its thoughts of war in light of the so-called invasion and was now discussing potential peace talks, effectively pausing the Doomsday Clock at a minute to midnight.

Seeing what potential damage to international geopolitics could be wrought if they blew the whistle on my plan, I shakily convinced Mr. D, Ms. J, and even Dr. O to leave peacefully, free to go their separate ways so long as they said nothing about the incident. Mr. A, however, stubborn and neurotic as he was until the bitter end, remained resolute in the idea of "bringing me to justice", even if it meant throwing the world away. I'll always remember, in my darkest nightmares, the look on his face when I was forced to have him killed, too- another sacrifice on the pile of progress. But it was over now. I pulled off an impossible deed, and the world was a better, stronger, more loving place for it.

And, yet, here's the rub. Now that all is said and done, I'm no longer certain that I did the right thing.

I sacrificed everything in the name of stopping the Clock and saving the human race from extinction. I killed both friend and foe, both innocent and guilty, and those who survived the whole ordeal will likely never speak to me again. Bodies beyond your wildest imaginings now fill the ruined streets, all dead by what was ultimately an extension of my hand. The only man fit to serve as the impartial judge of all the world is long gone, having left for someplace inaccessible to science, and I am haunted by his parting statement- that nothing ever ends.

Please, just tell me, even if in just some infinitesimal part, that what I did was worth it.

EDIT: I'm an idiot. A blind, idealistic idiot. They called me "the smartest man alive", and I was too stupid to realize that Mr. A was lucid enough to keep a diary. Since its publication, everybody knows who's typing this already. I no longer care about what you think of me. Judge me however you want. Nothing beside remains.

[jarenka]

In post-ROTJ AU Obi-Wan joins rebellion as a war general despite he actually don't want it. Ironically, Obi-Wan is very good as military officer because he doesn't want to be a soldier. He is always aware that there can be another way to deal with the conflict beside brutal force. Yes, some times you can't avoid massive military confrontation, but usually people who like military tend to resolve all the conflicts with weapons. In the end of the day, when military lover already won a battle with common sense, they think that creating Death Star is a good idea.

Anyway, one of the reasons why Obi-Wan agreed to "babysit" Anakin was the fact that Rebellion won't let Anakin near a direct military confrontation with Empire. So Obi-Wan won't be there either.

Yes, war with Empire hasn't ended after Emperor's death, but after New Republic formed Obi-Wan felt that he isn't that important for the war effort. He still help New Republic military with overall strategy and planning, but thera are other capable officers to lead the army.

[askbensolo]

Journal Entry #51: Weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me in a Spacebucks

Ever since Poe and Beebee-Ate moved in, I’ve been buying caf in the morning more often, instead of making it at home. RIP my bank account.

See, Beebee is kind of hyper in the morning. When my alarm goes off, he rolls off his charging port and starts following me around. Even into the bathroom—like, bro. Personal space?? So, I’m kinda eager to just get out the door as soon as possible.

But, maybe Beebee-Ate is just my poor excuse. Because...coffeeshops in autumn? Vibes. I already admitted to you that I’m a sucker for seasonal beverages.

I'd had it in my mind to try to meditate before work. I had told Fannie I would. (This was before...stuff happened.) And over my morning caf seemed like a good time to do it. But…I never really ended up doing it. I guess I’m afraid of what I’ll see and hear, if I quiet my mind like that. I’m scared I’ll see whatever’s inside me that my mom seems so afraid of... Or, I’m scared I’ll see nothing at all.

Because...that’s how I’ve felt, lately. Like a husk. Holding my head above water, but just barely. Making it through. Texting my mom every day to keep her happy, and saying “Yes I love you I’ll tell my parents about you soon” to my sorta-girlfriend to keep her happy (guess I won't have to worry about that anymore at least), and showing up to work on time and generating five-hundred pieces of content to keep them happy, and lying to my uncle about my connection to the Force to keep him happy (won't have to worry about that anymore either I guess), and suppressing my urge to kick Beebee-Ate across the room like a football to keep my roommate happy (still have to deal with that unfortunately), and, well, I guess I kind of thought if I had my dream life in the city and a decently-paying job and a girl telling me every day that she loves me and I mean something to her and I’m not just a waste of space that I’d be happy, too, but—

…Frick. No. I can’t. See what I mean? I’m much better off keeping my introspection at bay.

And my little daily overpriced latte helps. Because it’s not just coffee. I am purchasing my sanity.

Somehow.

Even if it does cause me financial ruin in my thirties. But, hey—the way the New Republic is going, I don’t got a lotta hope for the decade ahead anyway!

And—well—I just made a little deal that'll set me up for life.

You’ll see.

So, anyway. Since I’m not meditating, I end up people-watching a lot. And, I end up watching Armitage a lot, because he is by far the most entertaining character of the ensemble. At first I thought he was the store manager, but then I saw him getting yelled at by the manager, so, I think he's just a shift leader or something.

But he wants to be the manager. I can see it in his eyes.

And I can tell this guy is a real psych case—someone clinging onto whatever little power he can grasp between his bony little service-gloved fingers—because he runs the place like a freaking military operation. Like, homie?? You do know you’re working minimum wage for a food service galacticorp, right?

I would soooo hate to work with him—but to give him credit, it’s the most efficient Spacebucks I’ve ever been to. Even at peak business hours. Armie runs a tight ship.

(I call him “Armie” in my head. One day it’s gonna come out of my mouth by accident, and dude’s gonna vault himself over the counter and try to murder me.)

(Well, try to murder me again, I mean. No, wait—I'm getting ahead of myself here—you'll see.)

So, last week, they got my order wrong. I brought it to the counter, and Armitage muttered “absolutely unacceptable” under his breath, and dragged over this poor zit-covered, sleep-deprived, college-kid barista by the scruff of his collar and publicly berated him in front of me and forced him to apologize to me and let me keep the first drink but upsized my new drink for free and remade it himself and forced the poor barista kid to watch him do it, and I’m pretty sure someone should report that as a workplace harassment incident—but it was also funny as hell, and sure made my day.

What I actually ordered was the korranut sweetgourd cold brew. But, I ended up kind of liking the first thing, too, so I came back to the counter to ask what it was. The traumatized barista kid ducked into the back when he saw me coming, so I flagged down Armitage.

“Yo, Armitage. What was in that first order?” I asked.

He blanched—as if he could get any paler. His eyes shifted around, like he was afraid who might hear. “What?” he whispered hoarsely.

I blinked a couple times. Was I insane? “Uhh…what was…in the first order…?”

He seemed to regain some composure, and squinted at me. “How do you know about the first order?” he hissed.

Now I was getting a little freaked out. “I…I tasted it?” I stuttered.

Then things got really weird.

He grabbed me by the wrist and took me behind the counter and pulled me into the back room. It happened so fast—my brain froze up. He was skinny as heck, but his grip was like iron. I could’ve beaten him up if I’d tried, but I was scared stiff. I threw terrified looks at the other baristas. Tried to say “help” with my eyes, but they just ignored me. The manager was nowhere to be seen. Either this was a normal occurrence to them, or they were too scared of Armitage to do anything.

Maybe both.

He pulled me into a storage closet and slammed the door behind us and shoved me back against the wall.

“Dude, what—”

“Who are you?” Armitage hissed. “I knew there was something I didn’t like about you from the start, Ben Quadinaros—if that even is your real name. Who sent you? How long have you been watching me?”

“I—I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I stuttered. I was bigger than him, but I don’t like when grown-ups yell at me—it doesn’t matter that I’m a grown-up now—I still don’t like it.

Armitage wrinkled his nose at me. As if I were literally garbage. (For reference, I am only figuratively garbage.) “What’s your real name, Ben Quadinaros?”

Was there a reason why I shouldn’t give him my real name? I didn’t know. Maybe? I couldn’t really think.

“Ben, uh...Calrissian?” I posed weakly.

He looked me over with a snarling grimace, seeming to feel I had insulted his intelligence. “No…no, I don’t believe that one bit. What is it really?”

The Solo snark won out. “Would you take Jabba the Hutt?” I asked.

He sneered. In an instant his hand flew to his hip, under his green apron, and I realized—OH, KRIFF ME—Armie was armed. It was Armitage Arkanis, in the broom closet, with the blaster. Ben Solo becomes a white outline on the floor. I got that horrible feeling all of a sudden like when you jump into hyperspace on a full stomach.

“Oh frick—geez—oh my Force—I’m—Ben—my name is—Ben Organa Solo!” I blurted, genuinely scared for my life. Because yeah, my life kinda sucks, but it doesn’t suck that bad—not bad enough to lose it to an unhinged ginger who’d smoke me in the back of a Spacebucks for, what—lying about my name?

“Solo,” Armitage said slowly, and his eyes flashed with recognition. “Yes. I knew it. The Alderaanian princess’s son. What do you want from me, then? Information?”

“I-I mean…yeah? I…I just wanted to know what was in the drink,” I choked out. “Please. Don’t kill me.”

Now his expression turned to one of bewilderment. “…The drink?” he repeated.

“Y-yeah," I said. "The order that got messed up. The…the first one.”

The longest thirty seconds of silence ever. My knees were shaking and my heart was pounding in my ears. I felt like I was either gonna throw up or piss myself. I wondered what it felt like to get shot.

And then Armitage blinked a few times and withdrew his hand from his hip and looked around for a second and became the shift leader again and seemed to realize how insane it was that he’d dragged a paying customer into a broom closet and threatened him. He took a clumsy step backward and cleared his throat.

“I…apologize for the misunderstanding,” he muttered weakly. I could sense his weakness.

Oh, I thought. He's not so scary. I could crush his windpipe with one hand. And then I stopped feeling so afraid.

I saw an opening. Stood up a little taller. Squared my shoulders a little.

“Uhh, yeah, you better,” I said. “‘Cause I’m reporting your ass. What the kriff, dude?”

He took another step back, and cast a worried glance behind him.

Oh! So he was scared of me now. I liked that. I liked that sooo much better.

“I mean...hello?" I shouted. "You’re kriffing insane! You can’t freaking do that to people! Who do you think you are? Who’d you think I was?”

“I misunderstood,” Armitage sniffed, but he couldn’t hide his discomfort. “I…I thought you were someone looking to get me in trouble.”

“Yeah, well, now I am,” I said. I took a little step forward, and he took a little step back. I found that really funny for some reason, and if I weren't so fired up I would've laughed at him. “Seriously! You were making threats on my life just because you thought I was like, what, an undercover workplace investigator? From Spacebucks corporate, or sentient resources, or something?”

“Yes,” Armitage agreed hurriedly. “Yes. That is—exactly—precisely—who I thought you were. Quite.”

“Well, you should damn well be investigated,” I huffed. “For Force’s sake! I’m filing a police report.”

“Don’t,” he begged.

“You were gonna pull a blaster on me!”

“I don’t have one. I don’t have one!” He pulled up the lap of his apron and showed me his pockets. And he was right. His legs were so skinny. Like toothpicks, or something. There was no way he had a blaster—not even one of those really little ones.

So, he’d been bluffing. That tracked. I was beginning to understand this guy real kriffin' well—he was scary as kark, until you had him in a corner, and then he just freaking melted.

“Okaaay,” I said. “Pretty sure you can still get in a lot of trouble for threatening me. You don’t want my mom to know about this, buddy. She practically freaks out when I get a hangnail.”

Armitage turned white. Again—as if he could get any whiter. “P-Princess Leia? I mean…the Senator Organa?”

“The one and only.”

Bro dropped to his knees on the dirty-ass closet floor. “Oh, my God. Please. No.” I once again suppressed the urge to laugh at him.

Wow! Wasn’t this amusing. I felt like I could kick him in the face right now, and he’d just sit there and take it.

Something stirred within me. Something toothy and mean and strong that rippled downward through my body and made my hands feel hot. Maybe it was that thing Mom and Uncle Luke were so afraid of. What Snoke had always tried to encourage, before I cut contact with him. What Snoke seemed to still want to stoke inside of me, now that his whispers had begun again to brush up against the perimeters of my mind. That power that had made me believe, for a second, that I could come at my uncle with a lightsaber...

Armie’s bottom lip trembled. Now he looked like he was going to throw up or piss himself. I kept him in suspense for a luxurious fifteen more seconds and wondered if he’d cry. I imagined what it’d feel like to bash this loser’s skull in for thinking he could threaten me.

How many homicidal fantasies is a guy allowed to have before he has to turn himself over to the psych ward? Is twice in one year okay? As a treat?

Asking for a friend.

Anyway. Now that I knew he wasn't armed, I wasn't scared of him anymore. Because if Armitage wasn't armed, then it was just up to whoever had bigger arms, and that was me—but luckily for Armie, we were kind of in an armistice.

Well, I was gonna call the police on him. But then I had the most legendary, freaking hilarious idea ever. A real stroke of genius.

“...Okay, Arkanis,” I said finally. “I’ve got a solution: buy me caf for the rest of my life, and I won’t tell your manager. Or the police. Or my mom.”

Armie’s eyes bugged out. “Buy your caf?” he spluttered. “For life?”

“Yep.” I gave him a little grin and a nod. “What can I say? I’m a college grad in a failing economy, who bought into the lie that my degree would mean something, and now I’m effectively an alcoholic—just with overpriced caf-based beverages instead of booze.”

Armitage blinked slowly, like an ugly little frog, and wet his thin, pale lips.

I shrugged. “I’m a simple man, Armitage. I’m giving you options here. Finance my addiction, and I’ll let this go.”

He slowly rose to his feet. “There is no way I could possibly afford that,” he spat. “You come in here almost every day.”

“Yeah, well. Can you afford me reporting you to the authorities?” I asked. “‘Cause I’ll throw in what an abusive little skrit-head you are to your employees, too. And the time I saw you accidentally sneeze into a drink but serve it anyway.”

If he was any paler, he’d be frickin’ transparent.

“...Fine,” he said. “But—there has to be a credit limit on this. Five credits a day.”

“Five credits doesn’t buy a single damn thing on your menu, and you know it."

“It buys a plain black coffee,” he disagreed haughtily.

“I don’t want a plain black caf, I can make that at home,” I snapped. “And what makes you think you’re in any position to negotiate? I don’t have to hold my tongue. I can call the police right now.”

Armitage opened his mouth and closed it again. Like an ugly little fish. (Basically you could describe him as an ugly little anything and it'd be accurate.)

Well, I already had all the leverage here. But I decided to throw him a bone anyway.

“Look, buddy,” I said softly. “I keep in shape, so I’m not gonna rack up a tab. And when I’m picking up orders for work, they let me do it on the company card. I'll go easy on ya. I swear. So…do we got a deal, or what?”

He was silent for several moments, his eyes kind of glassed over. Then he nodded dumbly.

Oh my Force. He actually went for it.

Ha! Baby’s first blackmail.

“Nice.” I grinned and punched him lightly in the shoulder. He flinched. “So, uh. You mind transferring me some credits for today? And then you can just, like, give me a gift card, or something.”

Again, he nodded, looking like I'd kicked his puppy—or, maybe just like a kicked puppy. For a second, I almost felt bad.

And then I remembered how he'd threatened my life—or tried to make me think that he could—and I thought of Snoke—and I thought of Luke—how my whole life I've always felt like everyone was always trying to control me—and how I'd sworn to never let anyone throw me around ever again—and suddenly, I didn't feel quite so bad anymore.

"Crabapple caramel crunch," Armitage muttered, all of a sudden.

I looked at him. "What?"

He raised his watery eyes to meet mine, the familiar scowl back in place.

"That was the first drink," he said quietly. "The...first order."