#unidentified ship child

[nightingaelic]

Things that are Now Fallout Canon

(according to the Special LIVE Report from Galaxy News that preceded the Fallout TV series' teaser trailer release on December 2, 2023)

Vault 33, the focus vault of the Fallout television series, is located beneath Santa Monica, California. It's also implied to be very, very expensive to get into.

Bottle and Cappy, the mascots for Nuka-Cola and its theme park, Nuka-World, were about to embark on a seventeen-movie-long series of animated films before the bombs fell.

The sinking of the RMS Titanic happened in Fallout's alternate universe. The news announcer jokes about the world going down like the infamous ship, including the deadly lack of lifeboats.

Camels exist in this universe, too! The news announcer actually fucks this one up, because he says dromedary camels have two humps - dromedary camels have one hump, while Bactrian camels have two. Or maybe we'll get a sound bite from Todd Howard in a few months where he claims the camel breed names are swapped in Fallout, who knows.

Pets were not allowed in the commercially-advertised vaults. The news announcer regrettably informs listeners that they can't bring their cats, dogs, or even fish with them due to logistical concerns and safety hazards, but they are more than welcome to purchase Vault-Tec-branded gravestones and hold pet funerals before they move underground. Hypothetically-speaking, it wouldn't surprise me if people tried to smuggle their animals in, anyway.

Someone stole the Fallout universe's original moon landing flag from the Museum of Technology in Washington, D.C. - another headline report, with no further details. It was in the same exhibit as the Virgo II lunar lander, which stayed put for at least 200 years.

Vault Boy was named "World's Sexiest Man" in 2077 (when the report is being aired) - no word about which publication or organization bestowed this title upon an animated mascot.

Vault-Tec trademarked the thumbs-up emoji in the Fallout universe - which is very much in character for the company, but something about there being emojis in the world at all hit me wrong.

Vault-Tec instituted a "breeder search program" alongside vault placement purchases, and encouraged polyamory to get people to procreate (and buy more vault spots). I'll admit that this one seems plausible but shaky, because by this point in the report the news announcer is losing his mind while stalling for the vault door to open, and he might just be making shit up.

Nuka-Cola ran its own version of the Pizza Hut "BOOK IT!" reading program, called "ZAP IT!" Kids were required to read over 10,000 books to win rewards. If we use picture books for the math, and allow for five minutes to read each book, that's about 833 hours (34 straight days) of reading to get some soda.

Moby-Dick by Herman Melville and the ancient Greek myth of Daedalus and Icarus both exist in the Fallout universe.

Resulting Thoughts

"The ghoul" in the show is possibly named Howard - unsure if that's a first or last name. In the teaser trailer, Walton Goggins (who plays the ghoul) is shown dressed like a Hollywood cowboy on the day of the Great War, riding a horse to try to escape the nuclear bombs that hit Los Angeles with an unidentified child. Meanwhile, the Galaxy News headlines report that a box office hit called "The Man From Deadhorse" is getting a sequel, which is currently filming at California Crest Studios, and the news announcer says the film is "Howard-led." Whether the ghoul is the lead actor, we don't know, but it seems like a solid enough hint at his origins.

I'm glad that the show is going to delve more into the idea of the haves and have-nots, what with vault entrance being both selective and expensive. The most recent games in the series don't talk about this enough, in my opinion.

This isn't specific to the show adaptation, but it's becoming more noticeable to me that the Fallout series is crawling forward in terms of relating to modernity. I'm not sure how to feel about this - for example, I don't really mind if the soundtrack of Fallout 76 features the Beach Boys and other 1960s songs when it used to be strictly limited to 1930s and 40s music. On the other hand, I thought that using a news announcer that sounds more like a modern podcast host than a Transatlantic-accented journalist was an odd choice, and as I said above, I really did not like the idea that pre-war America knows what an emoji is. I'll get over it, but I'm anticipating that there will be some more artistic choices in the adaptation (and future games) that rub me and others the wrong way because they don't fit our definition of what Fallout "is." I'm not saying anything new, people have been arguing about that forever.

Overall, I'm excited. We're probably not getting a new Fallout game until 2030, so I might as well try to enjoy this. I will be keeping my bingo cards handy, though.

Anyway, I transcribed the damn report because I'm very normal. Feel free to use!

Fallout - A Special LIVE Report from Galaxy News

with occasional commentary from yours truly

[An upbeat, strings-led orchestral jingle plays, and black-and-white picture focuses on a spinning, silver globe. The globe is being circled by a vintage toy rocket. The words "GALAXY NEWS" fly in, and are quickly wiped and replaced by script declaring "Vault-Tec Presents..." The picture is circle-wiped and transitions to a high view of a vault entrance, with no visible script or markings to indicate which vault it is. The large, circular vault door is closed, and the access bridge to the door is not connected. A timer counting down from 60 minutes is overlaid in the bottom left corner, just above the Galaxy News globe logo and a signal tower graphic next to the word "LIVE." News headlines scroll along the bottom of the screen, the first of which reads "GALAXY NEWS SIGNS 10-YEAR PARTNERSHIP DEAL WITH VAULT-TEC." The headlines are separated by small lightning bolt graphics. The music continues throughout, and a male news announcer's voice cuts in.]

Good morning! Or, afternoon! Or evening, depending on where in the world you are. If you're just tuning in with us now, you're in for a treat. Welcome to the unveiling of Vault 33, one of the flagship vaults of Vault-Tec's arsenal of vaults.

[The second scrolling headline reads "VAULT-TEC VOTED AMERICAN COMPANY WITH BRIGHTEST FUTURE."]

Galaxy News is here live with an exclusive look at the next generation of apocalypse-proof, purpose-built luxury housing, sponsored by our friends at Vault-Tec. Vault-Tec: Revolutionizing safety for an uncertain future.

[The third scrolling headline reads "ROBCO INTERPLANETARY PROBE PROBES DEEPER INTO SPACE THAN ANY PROBE HAS PROBED BEFORE."]

If you're a regular viewer of our programming, we consider you an astute, engaged citizen, doing your part to stay informed on the latest news impacting this beautiful country of ours, and so it will be no surprise to you that we are on the precipice of a nuclear armageddon. But, fear not, Vault-Tec is building the ultimate shelter-in-place solution for the more doomsday-savvy customer: A veritable ark meticulously designed to weather the geopolitical storm surely headed our way any day now. And for the first time on live broadcast, the fine folks at Vault-Tec will be giving you a tour of their newest product unveiling, from the comfort of your home.

[The announcer takes a break, and the music swells. The vault remains closed, and no activity whatsoever is visible around it. It might as well be a static image. The fourth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-WORLD BREAKS ATTENDANCE RECORD FOR FOURTH STRAIGHT YEAR. GALACTIC ZONE GIVEN CREDIT FOR INCREASED NUMBERS." The initial song ends, and a new strings song with a more staccato rhythm begins. The news announcer returns.]

Welcome, once again, to Vault 33, nestled in the coastal west side of sunny Los Angeles County, and minutes from the yet-to-be-destroyed, bustling downtown promenade. Should nuclear annihilation one day come for this quiet beach-side town, you can take comfort in knowing you are safely buried deep, deep below what numerous trade publications once called "one of the best places to live." Right now, ladies and gentlemen, what you're looking at is peace of mind. Billions and billions of dollars and decades of R&D funneled into the high-grade protection engineering that only Vault-Tec can bring you.

[The fifth scrolling headline reads "WE ASKED OUR VIEWERS TO ANSWER A SIMPLE QUESTION: WHAT IS THE GREATEST NATION ON EARTH AND WHY IS IT AMERICA? HEAR THE RESULTS TONIGHT AT 10PM EST." At this point, the news announcer starts to sound less formal and more excited.]

Aren't we a bunch of lucky ducks! Vault-Tec has tapped us into their closed loop security feed to bring you a sneak peek behind a vault entrance airlock. That large, fortified steel blast door you see there is the only thing standing between you and the rads.

[The sixth scrolling headline reads "UNITED STATES AGAIN ACCUSED OF ATMOSPHERIC COUNTER-ESPIONAGE BY THE REDS."]

Very soon - very soon, I'm told - Arnold? Are we - yeah - and we're very soon, and we're very soon. Very, very soon, I'm told, that gear door will open, and Galaxy News will be on the ground to give you all a walking tour of the facilities! Including the accommodations one might expect in a state-of-the-art, modern residence thanks to a partnership with RobCo Industries and some of your shelf-stable forever favorites like BlamCo and Sugar Bombs! There's nowhere to hide from explosive good taste! Boom!

[The news announcer disappears again, and the strings conclude and are replaced with a meandering clarinet-led number. Several scrolling headlines go by: "U.S. RENEWS DEFENSE CONTRACT WITH WEST TEK, HERALDS VALUE OF POWER ARMOR IN ALL THEATERS OF WAR." "ESPIONAGE THREAT SUBDUED IN DOMESTIC URANIUM MINES." "PRESIDENT DECLARES NUCLEAR STOCKPILE 'SAFE ENOUGH.'" "BULLETIN OF THE ATOMIC SCIENCES SETS DOOMSDAY CLOCK TO HALF A NANOSECOND TO MIDNIGHT." "ATLAS OBSERVATORY CHRISTENS NEW TELESCOPE, RE-COMMITTING TO A NON-VIOLENT PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE." The song ends, a new one begins, and the news announcer returns. The vault still hasn't opened, and he's dropped what was left of his professional tone.]

And we are... stalled out. We're still... having technical difficulties. You know, sometimes things go bad and there's just no way you can plan. It's kind of like what's happening with the world right now, there's no way you could've been born into the world and know how you were going to end - know how the world would end. How will the world end, in fire or in ice? Well, it turns out -

[laughter]

It turns out it's gonna be fire...

[The twelfth scrolling headline reads "CHRISTMAS TOY TRENDS: RETAILERS REPORT SHORTAGE OF POWER ARMOR FIGURINES."]

Arnold! What's that? Okay. Yes.

[sound of paper pages being flipped through]

Okay. Arnold just handed me a fun fact. We're gonna do fun facts, fun facts.

[The thirteenth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-COLA QUANTUM GETS FDA APPROVAL, FOUND TO CONTAIN 'HEALTHY AMOUNT OF RADIATION."]

Fun fact about the construction of these massive vaults: They use concrete. Hm. That hardly counts as a fun fact, Arnold. Now is there an update on when the door... the door's gonna be open? Arnold? I'm sorry, is there an update on the door? Is there an update on the crane? Is it a crane problem, or a door problem? Is it a pr- is it a crane problem, or a door problem? Arnold? Arnold! Arnie!

[sigh]

Okay...

[The news announcer gives up, and a song with a lot of muted trumpet comes in to serenade more scrolling headlines. "NO ONE'S BEATING THIS DEADHORSE. 'THE MAN FROM DEADHORSE' TOPS BOX OFFICE. A SEQUEL IS ALREADY IN THE WORKS AT CALIFORNIA CREST STUDIOS." "ATLAS WEATHER EXPERIMENT BELIEVED TO BE THE CAUSE OF UNEXPECTED SNOW FLURRY IN LOS ANGELES." "DEVELOPING: REDS CONTINUES TO DENY EXISTENCE OF STEALTH SUBMARINES, US INTELLIGENCE SUGGESTS OTHERWISE." Woodwinds replace the trumpet, and the news announcer returns, pivoting to an unrehearsed sales pitch for his sponsor.]

If you have the money, please - please, guys - get a Vault-Tec vault. Get in there! Think of it as a life raft, a bit. Our country is the Titanic, and these vaults are the life rafts - right? - attached to the side of it.

[The seventeenth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-COLA MASCOTS 'BOTTLE AND CAPPY' TO APPEAR IN ANIMATED FILM FROM CALIFORNIA CREST STUDIOS. WILL BE THE FIRST IN A SEVENTEEN PICTURE DEAL BETWEEN THE COMPANIES."]

Now, were there enough life rafts on the Titanic? If you remember - no, no there weren't enough, and so many, many people died, and so, it's a nice allegory actually, because they're not going to die in the freezing ocean, which would be - actually, it's a little faster to die by fire than it is by drowning in the cold, so it is kind of an advantage to be dying now, th- rather than on the Titanic, the RMS Titanic.

[The eighteenth scrolling headline reads "SUPPLY LINES FOR RED FORCES BREAKING DOWN." Sort of like this announcer. He pivots again.]

Now - can you call a survivor of a nuclear holocaust a person, anymore? I don't know. Their brain is going to be cottage cheese, and they will be crawling... crawling on the ground, stuffing sand in their mouth, their blind eyes melted out, like the white of an egg, just dripping and dribbling out of their eye sockets.

[The nineteenth scrolling headline reads "VAULT-TEC ANNOUNCES COMPLETION OF VAULT 33 UNDER SANTA MONICA, CA."]

They raise their face towards their... god... and scream, "Nooooo! Whyyyyyy! What did it all mean?" It turns out it didn't mean much if you didn't get a spot in a Vault-Tec vault."

[The twentieth scrolling headline reads "MILITARY UNITS SENT TO QUELL UNREST IN SEVERAL STATES."]

"Now, let's talk about the luxury interiors of Vault-Tec vaults. We have camel leather. You've heard of cow leather. Probably. Camel leather is a great deal softer, isn't it? It comes from the camel, who keep their water on their backs in a hump. Sometimes two, if they're a dromedary. Now, let's talk about camel leather and why it is more supple, and why it is cooler to the touch, and we can talk about it forever but what you want is luxury, what you need is safety: Where you go is Vault-Tec. That's it.

[I feel like I need to point out that dromedary camels only have one hump, and no camels store water in their humps: It's actually just fat up there that they can live off of while traversing deserts. Regardless, the announcer is gone again. The scrolling headlines remain. "NUKA CORP SPINS OFF ATOMIC RESEARCH ARM INTO SEPARATE CORPORATE ENTITY AFTER SEC APPROV." "SUPER DUPER MART ANNOUNCES RECALL OF BLAMCO MAC & CHEESE FOR TRACE AMOUNTS OF DAIRY." "VAULT-TEC STOCKS SOAR AS US ECONOMY BECOMES FEAR-BASED." "BUREAU OF ALCOHOL, TOBACCO, FIREARMS AND LASERS TAKE DOWN NATIONWIDE WEAPONS SMUGGLING RING." Another woodwind-heavy song starts up, and so does our announcer.]

Um... Arnold?

[throat clearing]

Arnie! Can we- do- do we have a- can we start a clock? Can we - is there, like, anything we can do? I feel like people need something to hold onto, there's a lot of empty air. There's a lot of dead air, here. People need something to hold onto, people are freaking out, and I'm freaking out because I like to have - I like to bring people comfort - uh, in, in this crazy time. There's, there's only a few things you can predict -

[laughter]

In - in the world, and uh, I thought that opening the vault on time would be one of those things.

[The twenty-fifth scrolling headline reads "MILITARY SETS THREAT LEVEL OF POSSIBLE BIOLOGICAL WEAPON ATTACK FROM REDS TO HIGH."]

I was kind of counting on it as a - a thing that would bring some amount of normalcy, some amount of comfort. Something happening the way it's supposed to in a world that feels like it has been turned upside down by evil. But, unfortunately that is not the case. Here we are. Another thing we don't know. Another thing we have to grapple with.

[The twenty-sixth scrolling headline reads "TEDDY FEAR MANUFACTURER SETTLES CLASS ACTION LAWSUIT, DENIES TOY BEAR CAUSES SLEEP PARALYSIS NIGHTMARES IN CHILDREN."]

This particular vault and these technical difficulties that we're having right now have absolutely nothing to do with the product that you will buy when you buy a Vault-Tec vault. Now, Vault-Tec vault living is living the dream, and it's the only way to safety unless you're... the President of the United States, or something like that, and you have a mountain in Colorado to go under and direct the events of the world. Not many of us are that, there's only one of those... uh, and his various and sundry advisors, I'm sure they'll be fine, but you won't! You won't be fine!

[The twenty-seventh scrolling headline reads "WERE TEDDY FEAR BEARS MISUNDERSTOOD? ONE PSYCHOLOGIST THINKS SO."]

If a vault is out of your price range, there are lower-cost alternatives to purchasing a spot with Vault-Tec. They don't sound... good, if you ask me. Anti-radiation pills? Good luck with that. Not sure how anti-radiation pills will hold up against temperatures rivaling the surface of the sun, for example. But maybe that's just me!

[He's gone again. We're 15 minutes into the countdown, and the woodwinds have really started to outdo their own whimsy, at this point. Headlines continue. "TEDDY FEARS SKYROCKET IN POPULARITY AND PRICE DUE TO SCARCITY CAUSED BY RECALL." "VAULT-TEC ANNOUNCES NEWLY AVAILABLE SINGLE VAULT SPACES FOR SALE." "THIS YEAR'S FALLOUT SUIT DESIGN FEATURES ENHANCED PROTECTION, 20% MORE ZIPPERS." The whimsical woodwinds finish up and a bouncy, brassy horn piece takes over. This summons the announcer.]

When you see that vault, it's all gonna be worth it, fellas. It's all gonna be worth it when you see that vault. Now kids, you're probably wondering: Can I bring my pet doggy, or my pet kitty, into the vault? You can't. Unfortunately... it's a hazard in so many different ways. Uh... tch, uh, their hair can get caught in the ventilation system, you'll have endless problems, where do you put their waste? Where do you put... their food? So many, so many problems, so... we have specially-made Vault-Tec gravestones.

[The thirty-first scrolling headline reads "VIRGO II LUNAR LANDER NOW ON DISPLAY AT MUSEUM OF TECHNOLOGY IN WASHINGTON, D.C."]

We have specially-made Vault-Tec pet gravestones for your children to have many funerals for their pets before you go into your Vault-Tec vault. Memorialize your pets now with Vault-Tec mini pet gravestones! Dig a hole in the sand, put the pet in there, and put that gravestone - and it's got a space where you can write the pet's name - right before you go in the vault, no pets in the vault. Not even fish. No, not even fish.

[The thirty-second scrolling headline reads "FLAG FROM VIRGO II LUNAR LANDING STOLEN FROM MUSEUM OF TECHNOLOGY." The news announcer is really getting aggravated.]

What is happening? What is - Arnie! What is - what is happening? Okay - okay! Alright!

[The music and the headlines fill the space again. "NUKA-WORLD TO RAISE TICKET PRICES FOR UPCOMING SEASON, EXPECTING AN 'EXPLOSIVE' YEAR." "GWINNETT ANNOUNCES NEW PALE ALE SO PALE IT'S TRANSPARENT." "HAPPY NATIONAL SOCK HOP DAY!" "VAULT BOY NAMED WORLD'S SEXIEST MAN." The news announcer tries again, attempting to play up the complete inactivity happening onscreen.]

So much is happening here, we've got... the crane, as you can see, it's - it's about to be lowered, and I'm told - and I'm told... the weather. The inclement weather is - keep - I think the weather... there's a pressure cha- it needs to be - yes, of course. The pressure needs to be right to open the vault, or else the differential pressure between underground and overground will cause... a, uh... uh, the furniture to, uh...

[The thirty-seventh scrolling headline reads "VAULT-TEC REGISTERS TRADEMARK ON THE THUMBS UP EMOJI." This one made me physically recoil.]

L- Look... get a Vault-Tec vault. If you can't afford a whole vault for your family, that's fine. Buy time in a timeshare, one of our timeshares. And it's not the kind of timeshare you're going to regret, this is one that's not a scam, because you can look down at your intact body in a Vault-Tec vault and say, "Look at me! I'm whole!"

[The thirty-eighth scrolling headline reads "NUKA-COLA PATRIOTICALLY SALUTES SUCCESS OF NEWEST FLAVOR LAUNCH - NUKA-COLA VICTORY. EXCLUSIVE REDESIGN COMING NEXT YEAR WITH 'A TASTE AS SWEET AS FREEDOM.'"]

Stay whole in a Vault-Tec vault! Keep it together, meaning your corporeal form! Keep it together in a Vault-Tec vault! You'll be skipping around in a workout area, and... check out those barbells! Why not work those biceps while you're down here? What if there's an emergency, and somebody breaches your Vault-Tec vault door? Well, you're gonna want to be in shape to fight off that rageful beast!

[At this point the scrolling headlines loop back to the beginning.]

Now, is it a human? If you kill it, will its soul go to heaven or hell? Don't worry about it! Just get it out, because even its presence in your Vault-Tec vault could kill you and your entire family! These people are irradiated. It's not healthy, right? It's like putting your hand on a radiator. Don't do it.

[Music break. That vault still isn't opening. The song ends, and the news announcer clears his throat.]

We don't... have the exact scoop yet, ladies and gentlemen, so Arnie, why don't we put some music on while we wait for the skinny?

[noticeable pause]

I- I- I- I- don't know what song, put on anything, I'm dying up here.

[The next song opens with energetic trumpets that sound like they're charging through a movie theater snack stand. It's followed by a big band track that seems to re-energize the announcer.]

And, if you're just joining us, we're preparing to head inside the latest and greatest product offering from Vault-Tec. Vault 33, a pristine subterranean society purpose-built for America's best and brightest to wait out the nuclear fallout. There's no telling what will remain once this global conflict reaches its inevitable conclusion: That's why it's important for patriots like you to purchase a guaranteed spot in America's future. It's up to you to keep our golden society going, propagating forth until we have the ranks to repopulate the world outside.

"What if I don't have a partner or family right now?" you may be asking. "Don't give up on love so soon!" I say. Where better to meet eligible partners than in a cherry-picked community of like-minded individuals? If you find you need a bit more assistance, Vault-Tec has breeder search programs to help you find the one, or the two, or the three, four, five! Vault-Tec is a very open society, so go ahead and purchase that single vault space, and that single may become a double before you know it! And what better place to find someone to love, than safe underground?

Please stay tuned as we prepare to bring the crew, and the world at large, inside our Vault-Tec facility.

"But what if I don't have the money for a vault right now?" you may be thinking. You should never let not having the funds today stop you from reaching your dreams. You can always pay tomorrow, into perpetuity. Vault-Tec is reportedly constructing financial packages that allow for customers to continue payments on select economy vaults, in the event of total societal extinction. So don't worry, purchase away! Vault-Tec upholds traditional American values, and they believe no one should be excluded from the pursuit of life, liberty, and debt.

[Music break, wherein the song concludes and switches to something more pensive and staccato.]

A- Alright? Yes? Arnold is telling me - yes? We are moments away! Moments away - from having some kind of movement here. I'll believe that when I see it. Sorry Arnie, but your credibility with me could not be any lower at this point.

Let's talk about the amenities in these concrete miracles. Radiation King will be providing television sets, modern kitchen appliances.

[throat clearing]

The sofas will be... I'm sorry, do we know who makes the sofas? I'm sorry, do we - do we know who makes the sofas? Do we know who makes the sofas? Arnold, do we know who makes the sofas?

[Arnold does not reply. The announcer is miffed.]

What else is new. Yeah.

[Dejection turns to anger immediately.]

If you could please just give me something? If you could please just give me something to update? I'm sitting here with nothing! I'm sitting here... with nothing! This isn't my job! I'm a journalist! I report things, I don't... vamp! Is there even a - is, is there a clue? Is there, do the crane people - have the crane people chimed in? Have the door people chimed in? Is it all one person?

[Arnold presumably says some inaudible form of "I don't know." This does not please the news announcer.]

Well maybe con- maybe connect yourself to them. You should get yourself a radio. Get yourself a radio, Arnold. That's your job, to communicate with me the facts about what's going on, and it's my job to communicate to the people who are watching - we're trying to save their lives - you know, and this isn't advertising for me. This is a product I believe in!

Arnold, what do you do? What skills do you - are you somebody's son? Are you - are you somebody's kid, or something?

[Arnold can finally be heard, somewhat garbled from distance or technology: "My uncle is, uh, is the general manager of Galaxy News, your employer." The news announcer considers this.]

Your uncle is the manager of Galaxy New - mmm. Well, that explains how you got this internship. I'm sorry for everything I said, but... you can understand my frustration, here.

[The music concludes, but the announcer keeps going.]

The, uh, vault foreman is out here, and he is, uh, uh, doing hand signals. Ooh, yes, it's going to be a while, let's play some music for the people, Arnie.

[A new song starts. We're nearly 30 minutes into the countdown before the song switches over and the news announcer starts up again.]

All right folks, we have an update! They've got eyes on the gatekeeper out walking the grounds. It appears he was attempting to retrace his steps after misplacing the key and his wallet - still no word on the key itself, please stand by for more on the wallet, as this story continues to unfold.

Still on standby as we wait for the situation in the vault to resolve, but folks, there is plenty to get the American public up to speed on in the meantime. World news stories! Breaking, breaking news from the international desk. Peace negotiations between America and her adversaries crumbled in Anchorage, Alaska, this past weekend, a city recently liberated from foreign occupation, leading experts to believe nuclear war is indeed on the horizon. One more reason, America, to tune into the presentation Vault-Tec has for us today. Preparation, resilience, and smart spending are the only way our precious republic makes it through that long, dark night.

[This revelation approximates the date of the broadcast, which is happening not long after the Battle of Anchorage. The clash in Alaska officially ended on January 10, 2077: This news bulletin proves that attempted peace negotiations followed, then failed.]

Going the way of the dinosaurs has never felt this fun! If only the dinosaurs had Vault-Tec technology. Now, the dinosaurs died because... a meteor came from space, right? They had nothing to do with it. We have everything to do with our own demise. It's almost like… people are a virus that is destroying the Earth, we're a planet-killing virus. And people do say, "Oh, well, you know, well, the cockroaches... will outlive us and the the aardvarks or whatever will outlive us." Well, they won't. They're going to die too, because this is the real deal, guys. This is the end. So if you're not underground, I don't know what you're doing.

I wonder how we'll evolve. Will we develop a different kind of skin, some kind of leathery, plastic skin to fight off the nuclear fire? Who knows, but the only way to find out is to purchase a Vault-Tec vault, or a space in one of our timeshares.

[Music break again. It's a rather lively waltz.]

For those gathered around their Radiation King TV sets today, thank you for your patience. Rome wasn't built in a day!

[laughter]

Very soon you will witness… one of the greatest modern advances since the Virgo II moon landing - you won't want to miss this, the future of you and your future children depends on it.

[Exasperation sets in.]

Honestly, who wrote this copy?

[Arnold presumably raises his hand.]

You did, Arnold? Well, that's not surprising. It leaves… yes, well, it leaves a lot to be desired. They couldn't hire a professional writer? You look like you're 15 years old.

[Arnold inaudibly corrects him.]

You're 23? Yeah, well, 23-year-olds look like they're 15 now, still too young. What could you know about the - what could you possibly know about the written word, Arnold? Goddamn it. What could you - what do you know about writing and oratory? Nothing, I'll answer y- for you, nothing. The lack of professionalism - myself not included - disgusts me. The lack of professionalism disgusts me, Arnold!

Speaking of nuclear fire, you should see the muffin tray they left out for me. People want a blueberry mu- you want a muffin, okay? A muffin. Not a little squirt of dough, with a little powdered su- give me a muffin, give me a real thing, okay? Give me some snacks! You're going to give me some coffee? Good. I need a snack, to balance it. I'm not the only person in the world who needs a little bit of fat in their stomach when they eat a... big haul of caffeine.

[throat clearing]

Stand by as we wait for the situation in the vault to resolve.

[The music does some flourishes, then finishes.]

Ladies and gentlemen, it's official: We're experiencing some technical difficulties. And before we can open the vault - Vault 33, our flagship vault, full of the, uh, finest luxury items available to mankind, a- as of now - maybe we could put something on to keep people company while we figure out the technical difficulties. Sorry, these difficulties of course have nothing to do with Vault-Tec's vault tech. In- in- indeed…

Look, I need to have a whole cigarette right now. Just put on the song. Where are my smokes?

[The music starts up again while the announcer burns through a cigarette at the speed of a Corvega.]

Well, well, well! Here we are again! Ladies and gentlemen, we're dealing with a hiccup. Now, hiccups... might seem like a momentary stoppage, but this is a big hiccup. It's like God is hiccuping.

Vault-Tec is reporting that there's only one gatekeeper and one key on this vault model. The keys for these vaults are one of one, it fits like a glove, but it's - it's - these - these locks are very, very complicated.

God, it's so good to be on the other side of this. I don't think people know. People really don't know what's coming, and that's probably good. If you haven't watched… if you haven't watched the news up to this point, don't pick it up. Don't… just try and stay ignorant, uh, really don't find out what's going to happen because… it's bad, um, it's over.

[laughter]

The Earth is a slaughterhouse, and we are cattle!

[laughter]

We- we'll go back into, uh, a society resembling Bronze Age Mesopotamia. That's where we're going. It's not fun. Um... disease is… really prominent, um… we don't treat women well - let's just face it, it's - they - we don't treat them well now, but back then… oof. Rough. Rough treatment of women. You think we're racist now?

It's going to get bad. Where you want to be is underground. Vault-Tec vaults.

[A really tinny muted trumpet rises to its occasion as he disappears again for a bit.]

You know what else is great about Vault-Tec vaults? The air purification system. Let's talk about air. You need air to breathe, I need air to breathe, we need air to breathe. Vault-Tec's got it in spades! We've got oxygen candles straight from our finest nuclear submarines that you can burn, that turn nitrogen and carbon dioxide into oxygen molecules. Perfectly breathable, perfectly safe for your children, and your children's children, and your children's children's children in case we're there for three sweaty generations of sweaty living underground! In a fresh vault!

In fact, we put a family in a vault for 10 years and let them out just to see how it would go… and here they are now! "We loved it, uh… We loved it! That was great!" Uh… that's - I'm making it up! I'm making that up. I am imagining what could happen if I had more information about the vaults, but I don't have that information, so I'm making it up! Ha! Vault-Tec vaults, yes. Say yes to the tech!

[The music saves us for a bit.]

Unfortunately, we are back, the vault hasn't opened, and we have had absolutely no movement towards the vault opening, so! Hope you enjoyed that music. I know I was tapping my feet. Let's get back into it, where are we?

The US government has been quietly testing T-60 power armor suits as part of their long-standing defense contract with West Tek, following up the T-45 and T-51 efforts in the ongoing war with the People's Liberation Army.

[hisses through teeth]

How about that? How about that. The Man from Deadhorse gallops to a fast start at the box office! The Howard-led western is said to be the next smash for California Crest Studios.

[So the ghoul's name is probably Howard Something, or Something Howard. Interesting, but the announcer doesn't care and decides to throw another tantrum.]

Am I crazy or is this taking forever? I don't think I'm crazy, but I feel crazy! In fact, I might be the only person involved in this whole production who hasn't lost his mind! I'm looking at you, Arnie, I'm looking at you!

[Looking at Arnie yields nothing, again.]

"You don't know what to do, you don't know what to do." You idiot! I can't even get the word- I can't even get the information from you. Worthless!

[grunt of rage]

It's just me and Arnie here, I'm in hell, he's sitting there smiling at me, I'm in absolute hell!

Do you have a spot, Arnie? Do you have a spot in a vault? Oh! You do! What vault is that?

[long pause]

Oh, that's the one I'm in. Oh. Dear God.

[deep breath]

I guess we should get to know each other.

Ladies and gentlemen, we don't even know what's wrong here… but I can assure you that what isn't wrong is Vault-Tec technology, this has nothing to do with Vault-Tec's patented lock technology and everything to do with stupid people and human error. If you're this inefficient at work, what is home li- do - how do you wipe yourself?

[Uncalled-for, news announcer man.]

Ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy this music while we figure out what's going on.

[Musical break number who knows. Just over 11 minutes remain on the countdown.]

In other sponsored news, Nuka-Cola is celebrating the success of one of their newest flavor launches, Nuka-Cola Victory, with an exclusive redesign release later next year. Students that read over 10,000 books can be part of the ZAP IT! Program, rewarding literacy with sugar!

[deep breath]

I don't like Nuka-Cola. Personally... I don't like Nuka-Cola. Too sweet. I don't drink it. But it's popular, I have stocks in it, I invest - I invest in it. I don't drink it. It's the way the world is. Just because it's popular, doesn't mean it's good, just because it's good, doesn't mean it's popular. A can of Nuka-Cola, what is that, it's energy slowed down, right? It's the energy of the universe slowed down, right? What are we, what am I? We are energy slowed down into the form of a human being. All that's about to stop.

[laughter]

All that's about to stop! All that's about to go away! Maybe there's life on other planets. Maybe there's not. Are they going to come save us, no! If I were on another planet, and I came here, I would have an endless belly laugh at our folly, I mean, the folly of man! It's funny, there's so much written about the "folly of man." I mean, read Moby-Dick. Read… uh… what di- what happened with the - the wax wings, the wax wing guy? Wax wing man, Mr. Wax Wings, Daedalus. What's his name?

[Arnold hazards a guess we can hear: "Shakespeare?"]

Arnold, Shakespeare? Arnold, Arnold, good god… Shakespeare? Where did you go - you went to one of these hippie schools...

[Arnold tries again: "I think it was Icarus?" The announcer is ecstatic.]

Icarus! Icarus. Wow! You are good for something. Wow, Arnie!

Now, Icarus, he was close to the sun. In a Vault-Tec vault, you'll be as far from it as possible. You will be up to 50 feet underground, in a Vault-Tec vault, safe and sound in the knowledge that the wax on your wings will not be anywhere close to anything that will make it melt, except our new Vault-Tec oven!

[The horns come in again.]

Where are you f- what's your family situation? Do you have kids or…

[Arnold probably shakes his head.]

No kids? Good for you.

[laughter]

Are you single?

[Arnold: "Yeah."]

Ahh, yeah. I wouldn't recommend going into a vault single. You might want to lock someone down and take you in there - if only to help you fight - and, uh, survive, it's good to have a partner. Yeah… oof!

Anyway, glad I'm safe and secure in my vault! Um… I'm in the tax bracket that kind of... automatically gets a vault, so, sorry everybody. Uh… I'll be, uh, doing this thing called surviving, while you are all burning.

[deep breath]

What's the point of any of this? What's the point of any of this? Nobody - nobody listening to this can afford one of these things. Everybody listening to this is about to turn into an idea!

[laughter]

Instead of a being! But, here we are! Let's whoop it up! Let's whoop it up! It's a big parade… for the end of mankind! It's a big parade! Here's the final celebration, Arnie! Here we are!

Let's stake our claim in a dying planet! Let's plant our flag in a dead rock, and see how we feel. Let's see how we feel after the flag is planted, Arnie.

[a deep sigh]

I don't know how much longer I can do this, man.

[another deep breath]

My voice hurts, I'm thirsty, we're out of water, the muffins they laid out at the top of the day are dry and old, I feel dry and I feel old.

I give up! I give up.

[chuckles]

What's the point of this? I mean, what's the point of anything? I'm... I'm broken.

[Emotion creeps in.]

I'm broken. I'm changed. I am broken and I have changed. I…

[one more deep breath]

Thanks to you, Arnie. Thanks to you, man. Thanks, you're the best, yeah, thanks to you, pal. Thanks to you, buddy boy. You are just awful. You disgust me. Yeah, I'm just - I'm sorry. I'm - I'm just… I'm fried, man. I'm - I'm fried, pal. I'm fried. Dead. Gravestone, dead. Oh yeah, that's, okay.

Oh, god. Where are we in the process of the door opening?

[Arnold: "Yeah, it's over."]

What?

[A record scratch stops the music. Two minutes remain on the countdown.]

What's that? Oh!

[The announcer clears his throat, and the music changes to a triumphant fanfare.]

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm getting word. Ladies and gentlemen... I've gotten word that we are star- we are starting, ladies and gentlemen. It's happening! Here we are! Here we are, we got it, we got it, and now…

N- and now, this afternoon is unlike any other afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. It was the morning, now it's the afternoon - here we go! The crane is loweri- Here we go!

[relieved laughter]

Okay! Really close to the time where I can go, and get out of here! The crane is lowering, it is happening, the tumblers are tumbling! The crane is lowering, the tumblers are tumbling, we are… go! We're going! It's opening! It's opening!

[The static image of the vault has not changed in the slightest bit.]

You try doing this! You try doing this, Arnie! You try filling the time! Next time we'll switch places, Arnie, and you can try it! Oh boy, oh boy, here we go, thank god we're doing it and it's happening. I see motion, I see- I see Vault-Tec… I am convinced! Guys, this is great, it's been great, Arnie? It's been great. Arnie, it's been great. You know, I hope we are in the same vault. I'd like to spend the rest of my life with you, Arnie.

[slightly unhinged laughter]

As long as this happens right now, I am fine with spending the rest of my life with you! As long as the vault opens right now. The fact that nuclear fire could fall from the sky at any moment has made this broadcast that much more important. Thank you, thank you so much for joining us!

[firefirefruit]

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Thirteen

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Thirteen: A Line in the Sand

“Don’t expect me to fix anything else,” you say, crossing your arms. “After these three, I owe you nothing.”

Zoro, unfazed by your remark, watches the crew bustling around, moving your workshop contents onto the Sunny. As he steps on board with a case containing your meticulous work, vials of melted metals cradling the essence of his swords, he glances at you, his words carrying an air of detachment.

"Do what you want, I couldn't care less." His gaze lingers on your face for a moment before he turns away, striding off to find a suitable spot for your tools.

“THIS IS SO COOL!” Usopp yells, yanking out a pistol from the box he’s carrying. He aims the empty mock piece at the reindeer. “Chopper, play dead!”

“I’m not a dog!” Chopper shouts vexedly in his heavy point transformation, dragging a carton of metal ores on his back.

Meanwhile, Franky’s grinning on the Sunny, going through all of the transported items the others are constantly bringing in like a hyperactive child.

“Oh man, you’re an artist,” Franky gushes as he rifles through each and every one of your boxes. Suddenly, his arm plunges into your inventory, gently scrambling around to not dent your work and manages to whip out a crazy-looking lightsabre. “Woah, what is this?!”

Franky swings the beam around excitedly, attracting Usopp, Brook, Luffy and Chopper’s wild attention.

“A LASER?!” Chopper bubbles wildly, repeatedly hopping into the air to get a better look at the weapon.

Brook accidentally singes a part of his hair by leaning in too much, immediately emitting a worried yelp. "YO-HO! Even I'm not immune to its strength."

The aggressively blue laser beam glares wildly against all five of the fanboys' faces as they huddle around in a circle. You laugh a little, seeing them as a resemblance of animals poking a stick at an unidentified object.

“Raya, can I have it? I’ll take good care of it, I promise. Can I? Please?” Luffy pouts pleadingly at you, eyes sparkling with mischievous wonder. Nami gives him a side eye as she boards the deck, heaving a heavy container in her arms.

“Absolutely not,” she dismisses. “Remember the last time you used one of Franky’s beams?”

Luffy blinks at her innocently. “What’s the big deal? I only burnt half the island.”

Everyone turns around and stares at the other side of the island. A row of singed corpses of trees lay morose on the blackened sand.

“Luffy…”

“Ah, keep it, it’s only a draft anyway. But who gets to keep it…? Well, that’s up to you.” You devilishly flutter your eyes, placing a hand on your hip.

Usopp grunts, tugging helplessly at the handle from Franky’s stubborn hands. “Competition it is!”

“Can you lot talk about that later? We got stuff to move,” Sanji grumbles, giving them a dirty look; but as his eyes slowly flicker onto to yours, a big smile spreads across his face like butter on hot toast, his hot face steaming into heart-shaped swirls of love. “Our lovely Raya-san is relying on us <3”

Robin smiles, as a flutter of hands rolls through from the cave and downhill to the deck. Her eyes beam brightly as she looms over the gathering crowd, taking in the view of your weapon. “I wonder how many people you can cut with that simultaneously.”

Usopp stares at her. “I don’t feel safe when I’m around you.”

Sanji swoons, twirling around you and Robin, and shoots his hand up in the air. “I vote for Robin-chan to possess the weapon!”

“Declined.” The four boys wave their hands dismissively, turning their backs to Sanji.

Franky beams at you, placing a metallic arm over your shoulder. “Besides all a' that, our SUPER weapons master needs to keep her assembly goin’! I gotcha, Raya. Gimme a few hours.”

“Hey, no fair! You’re trying to win her over!” Chopper glares.

“Whad’ya say? Can’t hear you, Chops. Got things to do,” Franky says, already on the other side of the ship. He waves a hand in the air. “You won’t be disappointed, Raya~”

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.  Are you stupid for joining their crew, or was this a somewhat reasonable decision? You can’t tell just yet.

As you rest your head against the wall, your eyes apathetically trace over the shapes of clouds. A twang of guilt reverberates inside you, almost like someone’s pulled the strings to your fragile insides out of spite.

You can’t help but feel like you’re awful. You’re awful for laughing - for smiling and feeling joy as if your dearest family member’s life isn’t hanging in the balance. Should you even be allowed the possibility to feel anything other than sadness and anger right now? Are you unfeeling for being able to?

Gramps' logbook, your precious memento, rests within the folds of your pocket, the heaviness of his novel-laden words filling your chest. Your fingers scatter across its leather surface, caressing it as if his soul lies within those yellowed pages. You trace the familiar curves of your grandfather's handwriting, your heart sinking.

And it hits you: you’re joining the crew of the man who let your gramps be kidnapped.

The way he just stood on top of that house and watched as your Gramps mercilessly took ruthless beatings, over and over again. Watching as the ink dragged his fragile, paralysed body into slime, consuming him whole. The memories start flooding in, the wide, squishy eyes of the sentient taking his whole form into its peripheral.

It kills you. The realisation hits you that you gave your complete trust to a man who was more than capable of saving your guardian and he simply refused to do so. He sat there and took it in. All of it.

Strength, the old man’s voice whispers into you. A whoosh of heavy wind brushes your cheek as a delicate reminder of him. Have strength, child.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the Thousand Sunny, Franky emerges from his little workshop cave with an enthusiastic grin. A dirty rag slung over his shoulder, a pencil tucked behind his ear, he gestures proudly toward the revamped space.

"Wanna see, Ray? It’s all done.” Franky smiles cheekily as if he’s bursting trying to hold onto his little secret.

You lean away from the wall, offering him a strained grin. “Totally. Time to show me your skills, Franks.”

The workshop is ingeniously integrated into the newly upgraded and expanded crow's nest, seamlessly extending its structure. On one half lies the gym, now revamped and full of equipment, while the other half unfolds into an expansive space of metalwork. Its spacious design accommodates a variety of workstations, each adorned with gleaming tools and metallic wonders. The ceiling, a marvel of engineering, forms a domed structure entirely composed of windows, providing a breathtaking panoramic view of the night sky.

You step into the workshop, feeling the cool metal floor beneath your feet; the familiar smell of fresh wood and the tang of metal engulf you, making your heart burst with joy. Franky follows you in, his eyes eagerly scanning your expressions.

Franky, always one for grand gestures, hits a switch, and sleek metallic blinds glide up to the centre point of the dome with a graceful motion, forming a private enclave.

“And if you both need a lil’ peace and quiet….” Franky grins while flicking the second switch.

Another option presents itself – the odd partition between the workshop and the gym transforms into a thick wall of sound-proof glass.

“Or if there’s any…bad vibes goin’ on in here…” Franky spins to the third switch, fingers already on the job.

In an instant, the glass pane immediately flips into a solid metal wall. The crew gazes in awe at this spectacle, and Usopp, in particular, is on the verge of drooling with sheer amazement on the floor.

“Franky, why here?” Zoro frowns, staring longingly at his poor gym.

Franky grins, flexing his biceps as he responds. “Crafters work best under natural light, buddy! Our Crow’s Nest offers 360-degree light, in all directions, from every angle. Besides, I’ve expanded the gym to almost twice its original size to make up for it, did ya see? It's a whole new training ground now!”

Zoro crosses his arms, eyeing the newly expanded gym area and then glancing back at the workshop. His frown deepens for a moment, but then he grumbles, "Better be worth it. Don’t want anyone interrupting my training."

Franky laughs heartily, clapping Zoro on the back. "Don't you worry, man! Your workouts’ll be undisturbed, and now Raya's got the perfect space for her work."

Zoro mutters something under his breath, a mix of scepticism and acceptance, and then heads towards the expanded gym to inspect the changes.

The equipment held within your side of the Crow’s Nest is a fusion of practicality and artistic flair. Sturdy anvils are strategically placed, ready to endure the forging of blades and crafting of intricate designs. The workbenches, sleek and polished, offer ample space for organising your tools and materials. The entire space is ingeniously soundproofed, ensuring that the clinks and clangs of your work won't disturb the tranquillity of the crew's quarters.

Nami gasps as she takes the whole space in, turning to different areas with amazement. “This is beautiful!”

Luffy runs inside and plops himself on one of the stools. “Chopper, my right-hand man, hand me some metal!”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Chopper says as he pretends to offer Luffy materials.

Zoro snaps his head around and raises his eyebrows from his side of the Crow’s Nest. “Right-hand man?”

“And look - you’ve got tons of space,” Franky says, showcasing the various workstations he has meticulously arranged.

A designated area for the vials of melted metals, a specialised section for assembling and testing your inventions, and racks filled with neatly organised tools. The walls are adorned with the posters he found in one of your moving-in boxes, adding a little touch of home to its interior, as well as a bunch of some playful doodles from the crew members.

As you move around the workshop, inspecting the meticulously arranged workstations and the various tools at your disposal, there's an undeniable sense of awe at Franky's craftsmanship. The fusion of his genius flair composed as a tangible product of your workshop is beyond your expectations, and you can't help but feel love for the dedicated space.

However, the beauty of the studio is somewhat overshadowed by the realization that you'll be sharing this closed space with Zoro. Every clang of metal, every creak of the floor, and every breath will feel like a reminder of his presence. The panoramic view that was initially breathtaking now seems slightly tarnished as you look from across the room, the gym resting in your peripheral as a stain.

You find yourself trying to focus on the positives, appreciating the thoughtfulness of Franky's gesture. Still, the irritation persists as you contemplate having to navigate your space with someone you'd rather not be around. You purse your lips slightly, mentally preparing yourself to coexist in this shared workspace.

“How come Usopp Factory doesn’t have any windows?” Usopp grumbles, side-eyeing Franky. Consequently, he receives a slap on the head from Nami, who hisses at him to be nice.

“So?” Franky turns to you, his eyes wide, growing more and more nervous with every moment of your prolonged silence. “What do you think, Raya? I can absolutely change the parts that you don’t—”

“Franky. You shouldn’t have,” you breathe out, a sense of admiration and fondness for the space bubbling up in your chest. Your eyes glimmer, taking everything in like a gasp of fresh air. “This is a crafter’s dream.”

“I know what a workshop means to people like us,” Franky gushes, blushing immensely at your gratifying reaction.

You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the sea, of fresh wood and sawdust, and the metallic tang of the workshop before turning to your fellow colleague.

“Thank you.” You grin brightly, gently punching his shoulder. “This is exactly what I need, Franks.”

Franky returns the punch, a broad grin on his face. “Then get unpacking already!”

You roll your eyes at him with a small smile, watching him aggressively gather the rest up in his massive metallic arms, to then rugby tackle them all out of the studio. With a couple of objecting yells, your door slams with a thud and all you hear left is the muffle of their complaints.

With a heavy exhale, your weight slams down on one of the stools, its impact reverberating through the entire workshop, echoing and echoing into the flush edges of the room.

In the midst of the ensuing silence, a realization strikes – you're not the sole occupant of this expansive space. Across the distance, your eyes lock onto a familiar grey eye and a soft white scar.

Despite the palpable awkwardness, Zoro remains a silent observer. His gaze meets yours, and even as you shoot him an unimpressed look, he stands there stoically, seemingly unaffected by the tension that fills the workshop.

"I..." Zoro begins, his voice low, "I didn't want it to turn out like this." The words hang in the air, the weight of their meaning palpable. His gaze is sincere, a glimpse of regret.

You meet Zoro's gaze with an unyielding and narrowed expression, your eyes conveying a mixture of emotions — frustration, hurt, and a determination not to be swayed by his words.

The silence hangs heavy in the air, pregnant with unspoken hatred.

His grey eye steely gazes at you, but you've already decided to shield yourself from the vulnerability his words might expose.

“Listen—” Zoro starts, pushing himself away from the wall.

Without waiting for him to finish, you turn away and stride purposefully towards the switch that Franky had installed for situations exactly like this. The tension in the room becomes palpable as your fingers deliberately flick the switch upwards.

The metallic wall, a masterpiece of engineering, responds to your command; slowly, deliberately, it ascends from the middle partition of the room. The sound of its movement resonates through the workshop, drowning out any potential words Zoro might throw out.

Zoro's eyes — chilled steel, intense, a reflection of the mutual irritation that charges the air — are the last thing you see before the ascending barrier closes in. As the partition completes its ascent, there's a visceral shudder, a palpable severance of the connection between you and him - and yet, it's not so easily shrugged off.

Because you know his presence is still there. You know he's stood on the other side, staring at the same wall as you are; simply, your newly issued armour is but a fragile facade of protection, a delusion of control. 

[anns-works]

tell me about Defended By An Assassin im curious

Defended By An Assassin is a voltron canon-divergent-but-still-compliant-enough au i wrote in ye olden days. My hyperfixation has ended and am also out of motivation to finish it fully but a i still have a rough outline of the au notes. (I think it also helped me discover my gender so its kinda special to me despite it all)

The au mainly sees that an Altean ship w/ both a Galra and Altean inside it crash landed on earth in (an unspecified timeframe i never got around to calculating it) and the humans find their remains along w/ the cargo of raw Quintessence they were carrying w/ them. The ship lands on Russia and they hire a shady doctor i have titled as The Doctor to study the remains.

The Doctor then proceeds to (in predictably shady fashion) run human experimentation w/ his findings to form a being w/ both Nix (Galra) and Kaos (Altaean) genes inside a human combined w/ the Quintessence. Eventually the test subjects shift to children once it becomes apparent that they are the most receptive to it. Test subjects are kidnapped from all over the globe. Usually orphans that people won't miss. And young enough to still have all their baby teeth. Enter: Keith Kogane from texas yeehaw.

(In this au his dad died WAY earlier and he was plucked freshly from the chared remains of his house)

Keith has a fascinating dna which shows that it's half Nix dna. This is a new discovery and The Doctor really really wants to talk to the guy who banged the alien but hes fucking dead. But the results are already there w/ a human-Nix child, so why not add in the Kaos genes in there as well?

The vat of unidentified pure liquid energy they found in the crash (aptly named Ichor) proved to be very useful in this regard and The Doctor created more children with these human-Nix-Kaos cocktail and named them all Titans to aptly keep up w/ the theme.

These Titans then in ususal test subjects loosing their identity way were fashioned new names based on the theme. Also the whole shady experimentations were also very unethical (to say the fucking least) so a lot of people who funded the research but were kept unaware of the reselts are Very Not Happy abt the children thing. And oh! Would u look at that? The exposure to Ichor has led the Titans to develop strange abilities that can be harnessed in specific situations. Sure would be a shame if someone were to say, use this to silence the opposition.

So The Doctor basically made magic alien-energy-human 10 y/os who he manipulated into doing his dirty work and continuing his research on them.

The kids manage to get rescued and the facility destroyed cuz the fight involved Eris blowing up the afformentioned vat of ichor. Then the kids proceed to fuck off and disappear into various corners of the world to never talk to eachother again and bury all their problems and try to reintegrate themeselves into society.

Enter again: Keith Kogane, after having spent a brief stint as #02789nXs, before being Eris, spending half her time as Raven to assassinate people then back to being Keith again. He is Not adjusting well to society and then gets adopted by Shiro. He's now in the Garrison and James (Hermes. He was a fast little shit and it kept w/ the theme) is there and it was truly a devil's sacrament moment.

Then Shiro goes missing in a space mission and he gets himself kicked out if the Garrision. There is also a giant blue lion in the middle of the desert did they mention that? Wait what- SHIRO?!?!!! Who the fuck are you people. Dont come into my house and just- fine make yourself at home. Welcome to my cave w/ drawings and this big ass- how the fuck did you do that what the fuck. Are we in space. Is that earth. Is that a wormhole. What the fuck.

And now hes working as a fucking Defender of the Universe in a mecha lion w/ a 10000 y/o princess and Coran who call themselves Alteans but they are. Just. They're fucking Kaos people. And the main people are they're up against are called Galra, except she knows for a FACT that those bitches are Nix and there us also the uncomfortable fact of being half of the species (along w/ other things) that are taking over the unuverse. Shes not telling that to Allura.

And the whole thing about Ichor Quintessence comes up and hes just really trying to not deal w/ the mortifying ideal if being known and neither half Altean-half Galra prince Lotor or the Blade of Marmora are helping with it.

Some other notes is have written down abt this au:

Keith is 100% trans but no one knows in which direction. The Kaos shapeshifting powers are not helping w/ the problem even in the slightest.

During the Titan days there was some kind of love triangle thing going in w/ Eris, Hermes and Apollo and no one could tell who was into who either so it was just a source of angst and pining for the three of them and embarrassment for everyone involved.

On the plus side, Apollo and Hermes made Keith realize he has a thing for boys w/ blue eyes but on the downside: Lance fucking Mcclain

Lotor and Keith have a very complicated relationship cuz they are just dealing w/ similar things and Keith wants to help him w/ his place as a Galra/Altean but at the same time hes not ready to deal w/ his own issues either.

The whole returning to earth to find it under invasion moment has most of the Titans out of hiding and helping w/ their powers to beat the galra. Apollo is there but his name is Solace and the James-Keith-Solace pining trainwreck is back baby.

Keith also has very complicated feelings abt his mom.

The fallout of when Keith explains his human-galra-altean heritage to everyone involved one broken nose, several instances of the phrase "What the quiznak", 3 broken tables, 5 messed up lab equipment and many moments of awkward standing around by team voltron + Kolivan as Allura screams at Keith.

At one point Acxa just gets adopted into the Titans group. She's not even an honorary member they've 100 percent accepted her as one of them. Yes there was an initiation ceremony that involved a lot of stomping and chanting that called a lot of noise complaints. Yes Lotor was also in the corner as the actual honorary member wearing a hat that said "INTERN".

Thomas (Zeus) was literally the only one with the braincell in the Titan days and did not get paid enough to deal w/ all the bullshit. He has also been called many variations of mom/dad several times and has mainly accepted his fate.

The Titans also have these cool tattoo like patterns on their bodies that glow whenever they're using their powers.

Also Kosmo is the Titan's mascot and everyone (Keith) is willing to kill/die for it.

[needcake]

@hetaberia-week

Day 1: historical .

.

1539,

Lisbon

A man in his crew had made a comment that had stayed with him hours after they had reached the capital. In fact, Portugal was still thinking about it when he finally left the Casa da Índia and crossed the short distance to the Ribeira Palace, walking up the stone steps in the winding staircases, nodding at the palace staff that passed him by and greeted him demurely, and, being himself clad in black, it had taken him a moment to realize everyone was too.

No bad news ever comes unaccompanied, his crewmate had said, and Portugal was still thinking of that when he opened the door to the King’s private drawing room, finding him with his eyes red-rimmed, clutching a letter to his chest in anguish. The Empress of the Holy Roman Empire, his younger sister, had died in May, he said, her last pregnancy had robbed her much of her strength, the child had not survived either. Portugal still smelled of gunpowder and ash, he could still feel grains of Indian sand inside his boots, but his eyes were lost on some unidentifiable corner of the King’s private drawing room as he sat down before his desk. They never lived long, did they. He had held her as a baby in his arms, had seen her learn her first words of his language, had attended her wedding, had visited her children. Their lives went by so fast, not like his.

There would be a funeral and the King wanted him to accompany him, Portugal did not think to say no. He was tired, battered, hurting, ears still ringing from cannon blasts shot across the Indian coast by Ottoman ships into his fortress in Diu, wearing months of a siege they had at great pains finally won. No bad news ever comes unaccompanied, and he found himself on a carriage a few days later bound to Granada, crossing the border with his shoulders heavy with padded fabric, his hair combed and clean, golden rings on his fingers.

The husband, the Holy Roman Emperor, was not there when they reached the church. Unable to bring himself to say the final good-bye to his beloved wife, he had instead sent his son in his place, his first-born and only surviving son and heir, and the boy stood, stone-faced and ashen, accompanying his mother’s coffin into the small, packed full church alone.

How small he seemed at that moment. And Portugal would never forget that image, of the boy entering the church behind his mother’s casket, his posture stiff with grief, dark clothes too heavy, golden fleece too garish. It would be the last time he ever saw him as a child. Once the ceremony was over and the body was buried, the son would leave the marble grounds of that church forever changed. No bad news ever came unaccompanied.

From across the entrance to the church while the crowd dispersed, surrounded by a group of nobles and high-ranking clergymen, Spain spotted him and excused himself to come to him, the pull on the bottom of his stomach becoming stronger the closer he came, recognizing him as an old soul like himself, despite him being so much younger.

“We did everything we could to save her,” Spain said, taking Portugal’s numb hand between both of his in a comforting gesture.

It should be the other way around, Portugal thought, looking at his young face and red-rimmed eyes. It was Spain who had just lost a Queen and an Empress, Portugal had lost her long ago, the moment they had sent her away to be married in a political alliance, but Spain had just lost a companion, an advisor, a friend. Portugal should be the one comforting him.

What an odd creature this boy was, he thought, observing the brown curls that framed his youthful face, feeling the calluses on his fingers from handling sword and quill, looking into his olive green eyes that so reminded him of someone else.

Portugal laid his other hand on top of theirs.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” he said, earnestly, and Spain’s composure cracked, his chin trembling as he turned his eyes down to nod at the ground, sniffling.

And how odd, he thought, how so very odd, that his first instinct had been to pull him into his arms, even though he didn’t.

--

Notes: Portugal is coming home from the Battle of Diu (1538), only to discover the Holy Roman Empress, Isabella of Portugal, had died in May, 1539.

[mewlabu]

Another update on Dnipro attack. CW for disturbing video.

Rescue efforts are winding down in Dnipro as chances of finding anyone alive are almost none. A few still remain missing but may have been taken to hospital and just not identified yet.

This is footage taken shortly after the hit.

Death toll is now at 44, 5 are children.

Edit:

As I was writing this the death toll rose to 45. The newest death is a child. Bringing the total of children confirmed killed to 6.

79 injured. 16 are children.

15 remain unidentified. 20, including 4 children still missing.

5 children lost their parents and are orphaned.

These are the kids who died as a result of Russia's attack on a residential building in Dnipro.

This will probably be my last update on this attack.

About the missile:

The missiles used are X-22 cruise missile. Old Soviet era produced, and intended to attack large targets, primarily war ships, and so are not very precise.

Russia doesn't have too many of them but when used, they are extremely hard to intercept with any means Ukraine currently has. They basically have to have air defence right next to the target to have any chance. Only one such attack was shot down by Ukraine so far.

It was the same type used to attack the Mall in Kremenchuk where 20 people were killed and 80 wounded. Then on the Serhiivka resort in Odesa, killing 21 people and injuring 56.

Notice that none of these are military points on any front line.

So far Russia has used them almost entirely on civilian targets.

Missiles meant for strikes in wide open areas on large military and armoured targets are being used against civilian areas.

The Patriot systems Ukraine has been asking for have a higher potential to stop these. Ukraine has been asking for them for months. Finally it seems US is willing. But it will take weeks to get them and train locals to use them. Apparently the Dnipro attack was in response to US announcing the intent on delivering better air defense.

At least 81 people might still be alive if the world just gave Ukraine what they asked for sooner.

I try to be understanding about their fears and hesitations, I really do. But every attack that had a better chance of being survivable had Ukraine been given what it needed earlier and which are being given now, just makes my anger and resentment grow.

[auntie-venom]

Will of Fate

Chapter Eleven

Fandom: Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Story Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Characters: Din Djarin x Original Female Character

Summary: There hasn’t been an unidentified spacecraft in the stratosphere of Arkadia in over two decades, let alone three in one day. Those skilled or mad enough to venture into the Chaos unguided were few and far between. That means no one has ever made it to Arkadia who wasn’t intending to be here.

Until today.

or

Din Djarin finds an unmapped planet filled with beings who have the same powers as the Child, but know nothing of the force or the Jedi.

Chapter Summary: Eziriel and the Mandalorian kick off the hunt for the missing Imperial TIE pilot.

Word Count - 3,944

Chapter Warnings: None

Will of Fate Masterlist

Read on Ao3

A/N: This chapter is a little later than I intended. Real life tends to get busy when you want to get creative. I really appreciate everyone who is reading and letting me know that you like what I am doing. It is very encouraging. I hope you enjoy, any feedback is welcome!

Chapter Eleven

Eziriel is grumpily eating her breakfast. She got up at a ridiculous hour, long before the sun was meant to rise, to ride to the skyport and pack all the supplies she and the Mandalorian would need. She knew that he planned to leave in the morning after dropping his kid off with Nora and she wanted to make sure she had the skyship ready by then.

She had packed provisions into bags with the assumption that this task would take no longer than seven days. She honestly had no idea how long a bounty hunter took to catch a bounty, but if it took longer than seven days she would personally either grab something from a beacon station supply cache or take the few hours by skyship back to Helix to grab more supplies.

She had put away the drop-seats in the drop bay and packed the speeder bike into that area of the skyship. The ship was pretty small, but the Forest of Ga’ladora was very dense. She was sure she should be able to fly him close enough to the last known evidence point to drop him off with the bike to help his descent while she found a close place to land.

She did most of these tasks with a sense of smoldering rage. Amarian and her were discussing the lost Imperial TIE pilot on their way home from work the day before. After she voiced her concerns over her growing state of paranoia after returning to work and not knowing how to act amongst a potential betrayer, he admitted his frustration with the missing Imp and how he was irritated at the team of Enforcers’ lack of results. Eziriel thought they were just commiserating together over related woes until Amarian joked about hiring the Mandalorian to fix both of their problems; he could hunt down the TIE pilot and Eziriel would have to go with him due to her oath binding herself to his safety. Eziriel laughed, thinking there was no way Amarian would use her oath to the Mandalorian as a way to sneak her out of the office so quickly after being gone for weeks just so she can avoid the tension there.

But the bastard kriffing did it.

Eziriel knows an argument with the Mandalorian is coming. She did not discuss her coming with him on this trip and knows that there is going to be pushback from the man, and she completely understands. She does not want to be put in a dangerous situation. She is not someone who looks for risks to be heroic, she is the type of person to help come up with a plan and send people on their way with useful toys. So she knows she will have to sell her coming in a way that the Mandalorian is going to have to accept, and by the time she is finished with her labor, she thinks she's gotten her argument fully prepared.

It was an overall exhausting morning, but she took a moment of serenity, sitting at the edge of the launchpad and letting the rising sun warm her skin as she ate her breakfast in the quiet of the morning. Trying hard not to dwell on the impending argument from a stubborn man and about how much she enjoyed his presence interacting with her family last night.

After scheming with Amarian about the hunt and the supplies the Mandalorian needed to complete it successfully, they had a hearty dinner where Amarian offered the Mandalorian a table to eat in his locked study with the audio patched into the dining area. With how used to the disembodied voice of CHI the family was it was very easy to integrate the Mandalorian’s input into conversation. He did not speak much, but he asked more about the farming district where Nora grew up and how the agricultural council operated. This led to a boring discussion that Eziriel bailed out of in favor of making her niblings and the green child laugh with silly faces. It was a familiar type of evening that she missed while she was away trying to source the Cloak’s glitches. So she is extra annoyed she has to leave the familiarity of it so quickly because of Amarian using the Mandalorian.

By the time she is finished with her breakfast, Eziriel has built up the mental fortitude she knows she needs in order not to take out her frustrations upon another person. Taking one last moment to watch the late summer sunlight up Helix for the day, she stands up and goes to start running the preflight check on the small skyship.

════════════════════════════════════

“What are you doing here?” the Mandalorian’s voice asks out from the small cabin of the ship and she looks up from underneath the console to catch him placing a forearm onto the upper part of the door frame to lean in. “Don’t you have work?”

“Yep,” she says nonchalantly, hauling herself into the pilot seat and turning it to face him. She stares at him for a moment before continuing, “But I can review project updates during our flight.”

She watches his whole body still as he stares down at her and she feels a spike of worry come off him before he finally says in a stern voice, “No.”

“Yes,” she responds.

“You are not coming with me,” he demands.

“Hey Lori, I don’t want to come at all–”

“Great, problem solved,” he interrupts before grabbing her and pulling her out of the pilot seat.

“But I am sworn to your safety.” She explains, planting her heels into the ground and pulling herself out of his grip, knowing full and well that he isn't giving his full strength. She sits back down in the chair and gives him a scolding look. “We have gone over this.”

“What I do is too dangerous for some princess to ride along on,” he says in a frustrated tone. Leaning over into her space he plants his hands on the armrests, caging her into the seat. “This is dangerous and your silly superstitions have no place in it. Go home.”

Eziriel feels her facial features go heavy in anger at the condescending tone he is giving her and she has to take a breath before she lashes out. She’s used to being talked down to at work by her higher-ups or political snobs who want to use her for whatever skeezy plot they desire, but she expected more from those she considers friends. Yes, she has teased the Mandalorian, but has never patronized him like this before and it is insulting that he is doing it to her. She has been nothing but respectful to him and his more devout followings of his culture, just for him to throw hers in her face. There is a twinge of regret she feels from him that grows as she stares up at him in silence and she leans in close enough to him that her nose almost touches his helmet.

“The stakes of my honor are not superstition to me,” she states in a low threatening voice. “I thought a Mandalorian would understand that and would not insult it. Just as we do not insult how others' honor might be recognized in their culture,” she finishes with a flick to the side of his helmet to drive home her point and glares at him.

That small sliver of regret she feels in him cracks into remorse, but that initial spike of worry clouds his aura and she can understand where his harsh words came from. They stay there, him looking down at her still caging her in and her staring at the T in his helmet hoping she is meeting his eyeline. He finally drops his head forward and lets out a familiar sigh that Ezirial is starting to recognize as exasperated concession.

“I can tell that you are good at your job and my being there will be distracting enough to make it more dangerous for you, and ultimately go against my oath to your safety. That is why I feel I can keep you most safe by flying you to the locations you are needed and giving you backup from the safety of the skyship,” she explains her logic to him. “I have no intention of being on the ground with you hunting this person. My way of keeping you safe is to keep an open comm with you so I know if I need to give you transport, tech, or supply assistance.”

Eziriel gently raps her knuckles on his helmet, getting him to look up before continuing, “Come on, do you really think I am foolish enough to think a Mandalorian needs defensive protection? And that I would be the top choice for that position?” She makes a soft scoffing noise from her lips to show her feelings for that scenario.

“Having transport backup would be nice, so I don’t have to haul the bounty all the way back to where I initially parked the ship,” he admits to her and stands back up to his full height.

“I do seem to thrive as your personal chauffeur. Maybe I should consider a career change,” she quips while turning her attention to the console to start closing the loading ramp and begin her ignition checklist. “Plug in the coordinates that Amarian sent you into the navigation.”

“I am sorry I disrespected your beliefs,” he says softly, ignoring her command. He lowers himself into the copilot seat keeping his helmet on her and she can feel the remorse in both his words. “That was a cruel thing to do. Especially since I know you are just trying to help.”

“Thank you,” she answers just as softly, almost taken aback at his genuine, eloquent apology.

“But,” he starts and she inwardly cringes waiting for another argument. “If there comes a moment where you cross paths with the target, you must listen to me.”

Eziriel looks at how he is leaning in her direction from his jumpseat. He is tense and while his anxiety over her coming has lessened dramatically, he is still nervous. He cares, at least somewhat, about what happens to her.

“I will,” she agrees and smiles at him. “Didn’t know you cared so much Lori. I think you are starting to like me.”

“I just don’t want to create a political incident by getting the princess killed,” he says with a dry tone before turning to put in the coordinates, and for the first time since they met, Eziriel reads a lie off of the Mandalorian.

════════════════════════════════════

Since they were flying with a smaller planet-side ship within the troposphere they were looking at a four-hour trip to get to the crash site in Ga’ladora’s Canyon. The Mandalorian wanted to inspect the site itself to see if he could glean anything that the Enforcers missed.

The first hour was spent planning, starting with potential drop spots from the most recent planetary scans. The bottom of the canyon of the area they were going is too unstable with its rocky foundation for the weight of the ship, but there were a few options where Eziriel could lower into the canyon enough to drop the Mandalorian on the speeder bike so long as there haven’t been any recent collapses of one of the stone pillars that litter the canyon floor with debris.

After solidifying the drop plan, she then shows him some of the options for landing to set up a base camp near where he will land. The closest one, and the agreed upon one, is miles away in a small meadow in the woods that the Mandalorian will have to take one of the steep trails out of the canyon to reach.

She then gives him a small lecture accompanied by a slideshow on her datapad of any flora and fauna that reside in the Forest of Ga’ladora that were dangerous and what to do if he sees one. She doesn't have to see his face to know that he rolled his eyes several times at her presentation, but she does know that he is smart enough to take her warnings to heart.

For the rest of the trip, they sit in the small cabin as Eziriel works through her backlog of project updates from her DefTech team while the Mandalorian sits cross-armed with his helmet pointed at the front viewscreen while some percussion focused music thumps quietly over the comm system. She doesn’t know if he is dozing or just staring out the window but she cannot figure out how he remains so very still for such a long time. She is trying to figure out how long it has been since he last moved when his borrowed comm beeps at him and he slightly flinches. Ahh, dozing then, she thinks with a small grin as he looks at the comm and sighs with a shake of his head.

“Your brother is nearly as irritating as you,” he remarks. “‘Hope you like your pilot, she was desperate to fulfill her council-mandated community service.’” She snorts at Amarian’s message spoken with the dry unimpressed tone of the Mandalorian.

“I am still the reigning terror, I hope,” she says with a smile at him.

“For now,” he concedes and sits up a little straighter in his seat to check the ETA til the drop point. She checks it as well and sees they are about half an hour out and that CHI will be notifying her to take control from them shortly.

She stands up and makes her way out of the cabin and into the drop bay. She double-checks the bag she packed for the Mandalorian is strapped tightly to the speeder bike. She doesn’t want him to lose it on the way down or while he is traveling.

“What’s that?” his voice calls out from behind her making her jolt at his unexpected following.

“I packed some provisions for you. Medkit, survival kit, bedroll, and seven days' worth of food,” she lists as she climbs up to sit sideways on the speeder bike. “I just wanted to give you the option of not having to come back to base camp each night, but you will be missing out on actual bunks,” she says as she points to one of the retracted bunks on the side of the drop bay.

“I appreciate your preparedness,” he says. “But I don’t need much on a hunt.”

“Better to have and not need,” she says with a shrug and then holds her hand out to him. “Your vambrace, please”

He is hesitant but turns to lean his hip against the speeder resting one arm behind her and holding out his other arm to her which she gently takes to lay across her lap. Turning her visor on she inspects the vambrace silently and clicks it on to see the user interface he deals with.

“I could have done that for you,” he chastises.

“This doesn’t allow long-range reception or communication, does it?” She asks, knowing the answer at seeing the hardware through his visor.

“No, only proximity-based,” he says and she hums at him and she opens her HolOmni to pull up local holomaps and her dangerous flora and fauna presentation to begin the data transfer between the two.

“I could fix that for you. Make it so you never have to carry a separate comm again. It’s very freeing,” she offers resting her arm against his while they watch the data load. “I could also make your analog interface into a holo projection interface if you’d like. I’m still perfecting the tactility of the holoform, but it’s pretty solid if you aren’t too aggressive. Give it a feel.”

She angles her arm at him and he lifts his arm from her lap and drags his finger across her menu screen of the HolOmni. She looks up at him to make a joke only to realize how intimately close they are. His chest almost touches her arm and his arm rests behind her in a position that is inches away from an embrace. She feels her neck heat up at the observation and hopes he is too focused on interacting with her HolOmni to notice. When he finally draws his attention back to her face she tries to give him a normal smile but there is a small catch of breath that his vocabulator doesn’t pick up but Eziriel barely hears.

“I think that it might be too nice for me,” he says in a quiet voice before lowering his arm down to place it back in her lap, but this time his hand rests on her thigh rather than hanging off awkwardly.

“You are allowed to want nice things,” she says just as quietly and she feels one of his fingers twitch. She tries to compose what to say next when her HolOmni beeps that the file transfer is done. They don’t pay any attention to it and just stare at each other, gauging one another for a few moments before the posh voice of CHI rings through the ship’s comms.

“We are ten minutes from the drop zone, I suggest you relieve me from autopilot.” Eziriel jerks at his voice and the Mandalorian pulls away.

“Right,” she says. “Saddle up Lori, you’ve got a fall ahead of you.” She gives him a grin and hops down from the bike trying to bury that intimate tension that filled the space only moments earlier with their familiar banter.

“I think I can handle that,” he says while mounting the bike as she makes it to the cabin door.

“Hey,” she catches his attention and he looks up at her. “Let the Will of fate guide your way.” He gives her a nod and she slips into the small cabin to begin their complex descent into Ga’ladora’s Canyon.

════════════════════════════════════

Eziriel had just landed after the successful drop-off and was about to start setting up base camp in the area they both agreed upon when the Mandalorian comms in for the first time.

“Change of plans,” he states suddenly into her earpiece.

“Already? It’s been, like, fifteen minutes?” she complains.

“I have a trail and it goes the opposite direction of where you plan to set up camp. I figured you’d want to at least be in the same direction I’m headed,” he explains. “The second location option is in the direction I’m headed if you want to go set up there.”

“Will do,” she confirms. The second location was much further out, but to the south of the canyon next to a small river with just enough space for the small skyship to land. “Amarian said the storm washed away all their tracks, what did you find?”

“Imperial pilots have protocols if they crash. They are to find the closest civilization to make a rescue call. If they cannot find civilization they are to head to the highest point to set up an emergency transponder,” he explains. “However, they are supposed to make discreet marks to show where they are going so they can be tracked by a rescue unit. You wouldn’t notice the marks unless you were specifically looking for them.”

“And you are a smart hunter who knows their prey,” Eziriel says with a smile. She gets the ship back in the air and can’t help but be impressed with him as he explains what he found. A small mark on the lower part of a nearby stone pillar. From that mark alone he was able to determine the initial direction the TIE pilot was headed six days prior.

“A good bounty hunter knows the target’s tactics,” he states simply once he is finished giving her his explanation.

“I guess you weren’t exaggerating when you said you were the best,” she says cheekily.

“I don’t exaggerate,” he says.

“I know you don’t,” she reassures.

════════════════════════════════════

That first night the Mandalorian surprisingly came back to base camp when it was getting late. They had been staying in touch here and there with him giving her updates and her asking him bounty-hunting questions. When night became fully dark he showed up at camp. He claimed he was close enough that it made sense to rest where she was already set up and had a proximity alert, but the way he groaned in relief at laying on the bunk below her told her the real reason was simply comfort and she was glad she could give him that.

The second day he was out as soon as the sun rose, nodding in acknowledgment at Eziriel’s sleepy goodbye wave. She spends most of the day powering through the rest of her reports and pestering the Mandalorian with little jokes and quips just to hear him sigh, but she swears she can hear a smile in that sigh. He spends the day giving her updates and sometimes talking to her about his thought process in tracking the TIE pilot. He eventually found bootprints his HUD could follow and it made his job easier since there weren’t other humanoid tracks to taint the trail. He doesn’t come back to base camp that day and Eziriel is somewhat disappointed to be spending an evening alone.

On the third day, she spends her time working on a few of her own projects while lounging on a rock by the small river trying to soak in the sun’s warm rays. She ends up asking him random questions today during his updates and she finds out that he thinks having favorite things is pointless. But after nagging him she discovers he prefers savory food over sweet, rural areas over city, and nights in over nights out. Even though he claimed he doesn’t have favorite things he was quick to tell her of his preferred weapons and their ideal situation to be used when she asked, and she had to stifle the laugh his brief enthusiasm caused.

During that third day, he deduces that the TIE pilot is headed towards the mountain range south of them to try and set up the emergency transponder. They discuss finding a new spot for her to move to in the direction he is headed, but off the path that he thinks the Imperial is taking. There were three options in the dense woods and she is unsure if some of the choices are still viable after that storm he arrived in.

“I’ll just check them out tomorrow afternoon to see which one works. I can send you the exact coordinates when I land to your comm so you can manually punch it in your vambrace holomap,” she tells him over comms while she eats her evening ration. She gives him an exaggerated sigh before continuing, “Really Lori, let me upgrade your set-up so people can just drop information to you directly. Imagine, no more carrying a separate comm to sync to your kit.”

“It’s never been a problem before,” he says and follows it with a groan of relief that Eziriel assumes is from getting off the bike for the night.

“Streamlining that process could very well save a life,” she states. “You don’t know how much you might need something like that until it’s too late.”

She can practically hear his eyes roll over the comms, before he goes on a small monologue about how he is perfectly fine without her advanced technology and doesn’t need it to be the best at his job. She just listens to his voice lecture her and smiles softly to herself as the moons crest overhead in the night sky.

<<  Chapter Ten

Chapter Twelve >>

[greenerteacups]

That reminds me of why I really dislike that the epilogue exists.... other than the fact that it's totally unnecessary and adds nothing of importance to the story, it actually portrays, in my opinion, a strangely stagnant and therefore bitter (imo) ending for these characters I truly loved through my childhood and teens... Like, the fact that they just...stayed the same... married the person they started dating in school (regardless of actual compatibility)...the same friendships and enmities.... I just remember reading that epilogue and immediately rejecting it cause I found it weirdly depressing and it also kinda felt like the author was kinda forcing the characters into a certain destiny beyond what was necessary, which sounds really weird but I do think there's a point where, as a writer, you have to let the story go and leave 'what happens next' to the readers' imaginations.

there's a reason for this, i think. i actually happen to like a lot of the endgame couples — i think that harry and ginny being straight-out-of-school/married-young-in-wartime sweethearts is cute, and makes sense for their characters. i like the idea of them naming the kids after harry's parents, Sirius, and Luna (Obvious Exception Notwithstanding!!!) because it ties in with the themes of family/love transcending death and also happens to be a real-life phenomenon that young couples do to commemorate the wartime dead! i think it's great that neville's a herbology professor — it's an ultimate triumph over Snape to become the exact opposite kind of teacher, one who offers support and understanding to slow-learning children — and although i hate what happened to Lupin and Tonks, the idea of Harry raising Teddy as his own son/nephew/younger brother/Unidentified But Beloved Family Member in the same way Sirius probably would have raised Harry, if he had the chance. it ties in very well with "healing past wrongs" as an underlying motif for the next generation.

and you know what, fuck it, i'm not ashamed to say it: I like the Third Gen kids. they are good character concepts and they have hints of interesting story arcs! I like the idea of harry's oldest son being this ridiculously high-energy, sociable, nosy-ass Fred Weasley type popular kid, because — yeah, that's what both of your parents are! of course you're like that! and I really like the idea of [REDACTED MIDDLE CHILD NAME] being a Slytherin with strong moral values, because that's an arc that frankly should have happened in the original books, and it reads like a graceful acknowledgement of how the author mishandled Slytherin House (even if it's kind of dissonant with their behavior in the Battle of Hogwarts, but whatever). Lily we don't have much to go on, but she reads a bit like a young Ginny if she were less shy. but none of that quality changes the fact that these characters shouldn't exist.

authors coming to the end of their first work have trouble letting go of it, especially when that work is long. (even though it was her seventh book, Deathly Hallows was the first time JKR ever had to actually end a "story" as such). they're scared of leaving something out, and I think these long-range time jumps are a reaction to the desire to hold onto these characters as long as possible — to delay the inevitable goodbye, and claim authorship of as much of their characters' lives as possible. the problem is that you don't want to undo the happy ending they've just earned, so you can't realistically portray the tensions and breakups and conflicts that would happen if the characters were left to develop naturally for nineteen years. which is why the epilogue feels false to me.

and the funny thing is, for fans of the "canon" epilogue ships, ending it after the Battle of Hogwarts wouldn't change anything! it's ironic, because in theory you'd want an author to confirm that your pairing gets a big happy wedding, but when a ship is endgame, it's assumed that they have a "happy ever after" anyways. we don't read Percy Jackson and assume that he and Annabeth have an acrimonious divorce in their 40's. we don't wonder (at least, not as serious analysts of the text) if Arwen and Aragorn need to get couples counseling. maybe they do, and maybe they would, but that's not relevant to the story that's being told, and the way the narrative frames it, the "ending" of their story is itself the end of the line for their pairing. the moment you stop writing, they exist in perpetuity as a loving relationship, and you don't need to tell us they get married! they have been immortalized as lovers! harry and ginny would be THE endgame couple of the series whether or not we knew their children's names. they are each others' destiny.

and the end of the day, the problem with the epilogue boils down to this: either their story ends at the battle of hogwarts, or it didn't. if it didn't, then it looks like you have another book to write. and if it did, then it's time to take your hands off the wheel.

[katz-cradle]

Twirixie Family

[Note; Apologies if this looks bad or the ships/stories are weird, these r just for funsies :3 ]

* all bases by SelenaEde on Deviantart - 1/2/3/4/5

This is part 1 of my mlp next gen kiddos, I'll probably just do the main six for now.

Meet Twilight & Trixie's kids; Duskshine, Star Shot, and Gatsby. More info on them in the read more :3

Twilight Sparkle (She/They); Twilight is the princess of friendship & principal of the School of Friendship, she's the same old book loving schedule obsessed Twilight they've always been. Twilight is pretty busy often being a princess and principal yet they still try to be there for her family, her and Trixie ended up falling in love after their friends set them up on a date and things just fell in line from there.

Trixie Lulamoon (She/Her); Trixie has cooled down in her theatric personality over the years (maybe it's Twilight rubbing off on her) though she's not the best with people still. She's been working as a late night preformer for her tricks & a part-time assistant for her wife when they need one. Trixie absolutely smothers her children in affection any chance she can and makes sure her children get only the best, though Twilight makes sure she's not completely spoiling them.

Duskshine (She/Her); Duskshine is the eldest of the three siblings and is the definition of a perfect daughter, she's a sweet friendly girl who's very generous to others. She tries her best to be the best person she can be and is definitely not pushing too much pressure on herself :]. Her talent is creating things with her magic.

Star Shot (She/Her); Star Shot is the middle child of the siblings, she's quite and reserved spending most of her time hidden away in her room doing her own things so she doesn't really have any friends or interactions with non family members. Her talent is astrology so she's very close to her auntie Luna, who was one of the people to make her get closer to a few pony's in town.

Gatsby (He/Him); Gatsby is the youngest of the siblings and is very talented for his age, sure he may not know how to control it yet nor have gotten his cutie mark but he has potential to be great.

@unidentifiable-body hehe I told u I'd tag u in all of these >:3 (unless u tell me 2 stop obviously)

[adamwatchesmovies]

Nope (2022)

Nope once again confirms Jordan Peele as one of the most interesting storytellers working in Hollywood. Once you learn what this movie is, you think you know in which direction it’s headed but you’re dead wrong. Even if you think you know what tone Nope is going for, you’re wrong. There are some big surprises within so it's best to go in knowing as little as possible, but if you need more information, read on…

In Agua Dulce, California, Otis “OJ” Haywood Jr. (Daniel Kaluuya) and his sister Emerald “Em” (Keke Palmer) experience a strange power outage. Soon after, they spot an unidentified flying object. After the ship takes away one of their horses, they decide to record the UFO and sell evidence of its existence.

This isn’t the classic horror alien abduction story you think it is. I wish I didn't have to tell you this so the turns this film takes would be even more surprising. Then again, I also don’t want you going into Nope thinking you’ll get one thing when you’re actually getting another. I will tell you that this is a horror movie - at least for the most part. The UFO is frightening, particularly once you realize what it’s doing with the things it abducts.

There’s another scary idea at play here too, which is where the film’s title comes from. Now more than ever, our culture is obsessed with looking at and documenting things. Countless people have achieved fame and fortune without any “talent”. They've simply shot something that went viral and managed to turn that luck into gold. Everyone wants that because it seems so easy. This has made us all a little bit more prone to horror-type scenarios. When you see something weird, how many of us – because we carry high-quality cameras on our persons at all times – might go “Let me start shooting” instead of saying “Nope!” and following our instincts to run away? Haven’t we spent years telling people in horror movies NOT to investigate because we know there’s something scary making that noise? That’s what Nope is about. It’s about people who see this dangerous thing and say “I can profit off of this” when they should know better.   This theme is echoed in a subplot that is gripping… but arguably unnecessary. Steven Yeun plays Ricky “Jupe” Park, a former child actor who has been exploiting an on-set tragedy from his early career for years. When you hear whispers of the horrifying incident, you desperately want to know how it went. It’s all told in flashback so you know he makes it out alive but you forget all about that as the scenes play out. It's a great side story and it fits in with the theme but this film is also 130 minutes, and I’m not sure it needed to be. The other “flaw” is the tone of Nope. The film shifts from one kind of story to another so much that by the end, it almost feels like you’re watching a completely different film. I say almost because the shift is logical, it’s organic and it makes sense based on the characters. I love that I had no idea how the movie was going to end but some people who are accustomed to more traditional forms of storytelling will likely feel like they got sold something different than was advertised.

Like Jordan Peele’s other films, you could sit down for hours talking about Nope. Its characters, what each little detail means, the stories within the story, the reinvention of ideas we thought we’d seen mined all the way through, the performances, cinematic techniques, and more importantly, the way it explores its themes of exploitation and spectacle. There is a lot to digest here, which makes it a rewarding film. While repeat viewings will not have the same impact as that first watch because the surprises are so important, there is so much going on here that there’s no way you can catch all of Nope in one go. (February 12, 2023)

[thevibraniumveterans]

STAR WARS — The Acolyte

EP 1 — Lost / Found

MAIN THOUGHTS:

Very interesting case of a mistaken identity in a murder accusation

The Jedi are at their most powerful and believe they are not in danger, but this is proven false, though they do not know it yet.

It is also curious how three months ago, when SW.com released the official character descriptions, they tell us “Mae gets swept up into a sinister mystery—one that puts her into the center of a conflict in unexpected ways”, but it’s not Mae, because there is a plot twist.

All in all, amazing first episode.

Also, clever marketing gimmick about Mae.

(spoilers in my notes below!)

- Opens with ominous music and summary text in blue, signaling this takes place in the distant past.

- Jedi are at their best; something is stirring.

- The classic pan down… on a location named UEDA (interestingly, that’s also a Japanese surname, pronounced you-ey-dah.)

- A hooded character, Mae, walks into town; does the classic ask-pay-and-search for person of interest.

- Mae finds Master Indara and requests combat. Mae is turned down but that’s not stopping her, so she attacks the patrons at India’s table with impressive unarmed combat skill.

- Indara rises to Mae’s challenge; Mae has a knife, but Indara bests Mae, who lets up the stairs and holds a young woman at knifepoint before disappearing. Mae is mysterious, an “unidentified Force-user”, according to Indara.

- Mae is swift, but Indara is faster at dodging. Mae wants to kill Indara - for as-of-yet unknown reasons, and Indara issues the younger woman a warning. Mae distracts Indara and Force-throws a dagger, which pierces Indara’s chest. She bleeds, and falls.

- Mae collects her other dagger, and leaves.

- TITLE CARD.

- Something beeps, and Mae awakens in a room. (Short sleeves and shorts also exist in SW, who knew.)

- She greets Pip, her droid. An alarm blares. Later, dressed, Mae walks out and is addressed as Osha, a pseudonym. After a short conversation with Fillik, she heads out to make some repairs.

- There is a small explosion, resulting in an equally small fire; it triggers one of Mae’s memories of pleading for her mother’s help.

- A ship flies past, carrying two Jedi - Knight Yord Fandar, and Padawan Tasi Lowa. They seek a former Jedi named “Osha Aniseya”. (Seems like Mae is a pseudonym (no) and Osha is the real name (yes). (Side note, I am half wrong, but at this point, I do not know this.) Yord is given Osha’s bunk number on the bigger vessel.

- Osha returns to her room, and Yord is within. They may have been friends previously. Osha reveals she’s been a “meknek” (mechanic?) since she “left the Order” about 6 years ago, having joined aged 8.

- Tasi notes that age and emotional state was a concerning factor during Osha’s admittance; much like Anakin in the future. She had mourned the loss of her mothers and her sister; Master Sol had brought her to the Order.

- Yord and Tasi have sought Osha because of Indara’s murder on Ueda. Osha tries to bluff, but it does not work; she is brought back to Coruscant.

- In the Temple, Sol is carrying out a lesson to a room half full of younglings when Master Vernestra “Vern” walks in. Sol greets her, and in more words, says that he knows Indara was slain.

- On the prison ship, other convicts cause the ship to exit hyperspace, and jettison into space. The ship careens, the last prisoner escapes in a pod, leaving Osha alone. It’s become dangerous.

- The ship crash lands on an icy and rocky outcrop, on a planet called Carlac.

- Back at the temple, Jecki informs Sol that Vern requests him to be “at the detainment level”.

- Jecki and Sol exchange a version of the old saying that goes, if you don’t learn from history you’re doomed to repeat it.

- Sol tells Vern, “If she is guilty, it is my failure.” The vibe is like a parent taking all responsibility for the child they did not succeed in rearing.

- On Carlac, Osha wakes up. There is a figure at the door; said figure walks away, Osha is intrigued and follows.

- Sol is bringing Jecki to Carlac to find Osha. Sol also wants to bring Yord along too.

- Back on Carlac, Osha follows the figure, only for said figure to turn around and reveal herself as Mae, Osha’s sister. Her twin sister.

- Suddenly the scenery around her changes, Osha is on Brendok. Turns out Osha is going through a memory, an old memory. Mae had stated, “You’re with me. I’m with you. Always one, but born as two.” This is interesting…

- Mae continues, “As above sits the stars, and below lies the sea, I give you you…” and Osha finishes, “…and you give me me.”

- For this part of the memory, Osha “reverts” to being her younger self to communicate with her sister Mae, who admits to killing Indara.

- For the second time, Osha awakes, but this time for real. She must have experienced either a clear memory or a very powerful Force vision.

- On the ship carrying Sol, Yord, and Jecki, Sol recounts how Osha’s twin sister murdered her who family, leaving Osha alive. (This means the conclusion Osha came to, was half the information Sol knows. Osha knows Mae killed Indara, Yord believes Osha killed Indara, Sol does not want to believe this but needs to bring Osha in.)

- Yord admits to not knowing Osha was a twin, or even had a twin. Sol believes Mae is dead, saying “I saw her die”, which may be the case. Just because Osha communicated with Mae in the vision, does not necessarily mean Mae is alive. But Sol is about to be proved wrong.

- The three Jedi arrive at Osha’s downed ship; she has gone off somewhere. They track her to a cliff edge and beckon her. Osha trips and falls off the ledge but Sol saves her from falling.

- Osha tells Sol, “Mae is alive”. Sol says he believes her. For him, it makes sense - he had brought her in, taught her, and therefore, knows her enough to know Osha must not have killed Indara, and that it confirms for him that since Mae is identical to Osha, and Osha wasn’t even in the right place to have killed Indara to begin with, it begs more than enough reason for Sol to believe her. But that will not be enough.

- Elsewhere, a stranger speaks to Mae, who walks across a rocky beach. She reaches a hooded figure standing on a ledge, who ignites a red lightsaber.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Dream Job

Read on Ao3

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Frankie Morales x Jay ‘Lady’ Ray (OFC) **Series masterlist**

Warnings: Angst, family cuteness, assholes being rude to Holly, some light violence as a result of that, PiV sex, impregnation kink and dirty talk.

Words: 5,686

Summary: Frankie and Jay are both out of the military. Jay has earned her degree and is working as a physical therapist, Frankie works at the base, Alma is three and a wonderful handful. Life should be perfect, but Frankie's not happy. Something's missing.

A/N: This was supposed to be a fic about Frankie's midlife crisis and set up his reasons for turning to drugs, but that sonuvabitch hijacked this piece and now it's about his goddamn impregnation kink. So. There you have it, I guess.

Taglist: @amneris21 @apascalrascal @harriedandharassed @kikis-writing-world @lovesbiggerthanpride @miraclesabound @mswarriorbabe80 @pazizz @paulalikestuff @rambling-in-purple @trinkets01

The rain is pouring down with a vengeance and Frankie's shoulders rise to his ears as he tries to keep the wet away from his neck. He's not wearing a proper jacket, though, so it's useless. The rain is unseasonably cold and just yesterday the weather was warm and sunny, so the twists and turns are a little abrupt for him to have thought about taking a weather appropriate jacket this morning.

Where the fuck is she?

Just as he thinks about texting her and letting her know she can pick him up from the nearest corner store, the family friendly SUV that Jay hates with a vengeance comes around the corner and pulls to the side, stopping in front of him. Frankie gets in on the passenger side. He cranks up the heating immediately. "Sorry I'm late," she glances at him. "Client."

"That's okay." He presses a smile for her and gets one in return. "How was your day?"

She shrugs. "It was okay. Busy. You?"

"Same." Jay checks the time, and grimaces.

"Can you get Alma from mom's while I get groceries? Or d'you wanna do the shopping? We're out of a lot of things."

"I thought you said you were going on your lunch break?" He can't help it; his voice is accusatory. "That's why you had to take the car."

"I didn't have time! Maddie is away, I had to take all her clients, I haven't even had time for lunch today!"

He can hear she's close to snapping, so he reigns it in. "We'll go together," he rules. He knows Jay, knows that in this state she's unable to make any sensible decisions in the store. He also doesn't want to wait with Alma at Jay's mom's place. The woman spent the entirety of Jay's childhood letting the girl know she was wrong for not wanting to wear dresses and play with dolls. Dorothy has made amends, is respectful towards the family, a wonderful grandmother to Alma, but as it turns out, this is the one grudge Frankie will carry for the rest of his life. Coming from a loving and supportive family himself and having a child of his own, he can't fathom how a parent would treat their child like Jay has been treated.

He turns his face away and stares out the window. Being a parent is the best mission he has ever undertaken, but some days are tougher than others. And it's surprisingly difficult to get by with just one car: his truck is in the shop with an unidentified brake problem. It annoys him tremendously that he couldn't figure it out himself. He fixes most things on both their cars, is good at it, but this was beyond him and it's crippling his manly pride more than he wants to admit, especially to himself.

There's also the question of his job. He's torn about still being employed by the military but not being in active duty. On the one hand, he loves that he can still fly. He enjoys training new pilots. Still going to the base every day is familiar, and he gets to fly out to other bases as well from time to time. On the other hand, he's done with missions. He's getting to be done with the military. Sometimes feels like he's in limbo. Half in, half out. Sitting behind a desk whenever he's not handling the controls of an aircraft is strange. Regular hours at the base, comfortable and practical though they may be, is strange. Jay is so enthusiastic about her job. She graduated as a physical therapist when Alma was barely a year old, and immediately got a job at the local VA center where she had done clinical duty. She started part time but quickly moved up to full time, and Alma was put in daycare with Frankie often picking her up in the afternoons. She often works overtime, taking extra clients, feeling strongly about the work she does helping combat veterans recover from various injuries and amputations. Frankie and her usually make the day-to-day work, but sometimes it gets tricky and since his car broke down, it's been hell to puzzle together their hours. And no matter what conflicted feelings Frankie harbors against Jay's mother Dorothy, it's a blessing that she lives close by and can pick Alma up when her parents are unable to. Frankie wouldn't mind being a stay-at-home dad, but the family needs two incomes. That's something else that seems to bother him right now: how the days just float by with work, daycare, dinner, barely a couple of hours of play with Alma before her bedtime... He wants more time with her, wants to be more present. The idea of maybe trying for another baby has been brought up a couple of times between him and Jay, but the thought of having two children dumped at daycare and never seeing them is... depressing, somehow. They arrive at Dorothy's, where Alma is fussy after a long day. Dorothy has given her a snack, but the girl is tired and feeling abandoned, and now very upset about having to leave granny. When they leave, Frankie sits in the backseat with Alma, who's wailing about everything and nothing, while Jay maneuvers the car to the supermarket.

"You staying here with her?" she asks when they're parked. Frankie hears the hint of tiredness in her voice, even if she tries her best to not sound stressed. Alma gives up a great wail.

"Alma wanna gooooo!"

"We'll come with," Frankie suggests. "Alma, corazon, remember when we talked about behavior in the supermarket? How we gotta be calm and let other people do their shopping in peace? That still flies, okay?"

Alma takes a deep, shaky breath and nods, her big brown eyes filled with tears. Jay smiles at her in the rear-view mirror, knowing that even if they're crocodile tears, Frankie will melt at the sight of them. He's a sucker for his special little girl.

"Can you help mommy and me with the shopping?" Frankie asks, fishing up a napkin from his pocket and wiping up the tears and snot from Alma's face.

"Alma can help," the girl reassures him, receiving a quick kiss on her forehead.

They get a cart and Frankie lifts Alma into the child seat.

"You wanna hold the list?" Jay offers, handing her the paper. Alma accepts it with a very serious face and starts to turn the list around in her hand, pretending to understand the words written on it.

"What's first?" Jay asks, bending down to trace the first word on the list with her finger.

"Shock-lat!" Alma states, drawing forth a grin from both her parents.

"I think it says milk, mijita," Frankie chuckles. Alma seems to want to start to protest, so he quickly brings her attention to the next item on the list, while Jay gets the milk. When Jay returns, Frankie relinquishes Alma and the cart to her to go get the juice.

He stops by the magazine racks, a car on a magazine cover capturing his attention, and stops to browse for a second. Barely two pages into the magazine, he hears a greeting behind him:

"Yo, Morales!"

He suppresses a sigh when he hears the voice of one of the most obnoxious dickheads ever to walk in fatigues, Captain Ryan Hall. The man's a strutting chick magnet and knows it; moreover, he's a douche who fucked up everything in life except his military career – and even in that area he's going for some kind of Razzie Award. He was reprimanded for leaving his last posting in Afghanistan with an unreported case of the clap, which he then proceeded to transmit to a variety of women at home. One of them reportedly got meningitis as a complication. Hall, of course, doesn’t give a shit.

Hall,” Frankie replies curtly and watches the guy pick out two titty magazines and toss them carelessly into the cart, joining a six-pack of beer and two big jars of that whey powder.

”Partying tonight?” He can't help himself: the cart's contents look like they belong to a nineteen-year-old, not a man of Frankie's age.

"Not gettin' one for yourself?" Hall questions, nodding at his reading for tonight. Frankie shakes his head and puts down his magazine.

"Lady keeping you on a tight leash, is she?" the guy leers and Frankie, whose primary mode is mellow, just wants to punch him in the face.

Jay shows up around the corner with the cart, and Alma gives a delighted little shriek when she sees her daddy.

"Speaking of the devil," Hall winks before eyeing Jay. "Ray. You're lookin' well."

"Same," she nods, more interested in the tightness of Frankie's jaw than some asshole she no longer has to work with. "Frankie? We're almost ready."

"Yeah, I'm done."

Hall, however, is not done.

"Civilian life looks good on you," he comments, eyeing Jay in a way that makes both her and Frankie bristle. "You don't miss the action?"

"Nope," Jay quips while trying to prevent Alma, now bored, from tearing the list into little pieces. "Alma, don't litter. We're done real soon and can go home for dinner."

Hall shakes his head. "Hate to see a good soldier go so wrong. But that's what you get when you let women in. They quit as soon as the bullets begin to whistle by. Makes more sense for them to just have babies."

Jay freezes, her blood thumping in her ears. She stares at Hall, this absolutely fuck knuckle of a man, not sure she heard right. Did he really say that?

Meanwhile, Frankie has stepped up to him and is speaking in a dangerously low voice.

"Say that again."

"Calm down, Fish, you know what it's like..."

"I don't. Say it again, and we'll find out."

Hall is looking more uncomfortable by the minute, and Jay can see from the way the muscles of Frankie's long neck are protruding that he will start swinging soon. She puts her hand on his shoulder, eyes on him, not Hall.

"Frankie."

"I'm good."

He relaxes immediately and steps back, even manages to smile at her. Hand on her back, he guides her away and can't stop from laughing when Alma points at Hall and yells Stupidface. Jay immediately admonishes her daughter about pointing and saying bad words, but Frankie can hear that she doesn't really mean it this time.

They finish up their shopping and go home, Jay unusually quiet during the entire car ride. Alma is fussy again, and Frankie does his best to keep her from making a scene in the back seat. The girl is going through some "daddy is stupid and so is mommy, but a little less so" phase, so as soon as the family gets home, Jay entertains Alma while Frankie cooks dinner.

After dinner they try to switch but Alma isn't having it, so Jay ends up giving her a bath, and reading her a bedtime story. By the time she appears in the living-room and collapses on the couch, she looks beat. Frankie immediately makes room for her in the best corner and holds out his arm so that she can curl up with it around her shoulders.

"I'm so fucking tired," she sighs. Frankie pulls her against him and kisses the side of her head.

"I know. Sorry I can't help, but neither one of us want her to have a total meltdown."

"You are helping," Jay points out. "You cooked dinner, you cleaned the kitchen, you did laundry."

"That's just normal teamwork," Frankie shrugs. "We both do that every day. I wish I could figure out how to work with her so that you'd get some relief."

"It's a phase," Jay yawns as she reaches across Frankie for the remote on a cushion next to him. "She'll snap out of it."

"Hopefully soon," Frankie mutters, relinquishing the remote to Jay. She flicks through the channels, finding a show where competitors are baking one crazy cake after another. After a few minutes of watching, Frankie clears his throat.

"Amor?"

Jay's hum lets him know that she's listening.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Hall said some pretty messed up shit."

She tenses up momentarily; a bundle of annoyed muscles flexing against him, before softening again.

"He's such an asshole. I can't let him get to me."

"You know it's not true what he said," Frankie tells her hotly, feeling a strong physical need to say it out loud. "Not one word of it. You're better than all of them put together."

Jay smiles as she turns her face towards him and kisses him lightly on the lips.

"You're always looking out for me. Thank you."

“Always.”

Five minutes later, she's asleep against Frankie's shoulder.

A couple of hours later, just when he's about to join Jay in bed, Alma wakes up crying from a bad dream. He goes in to comfort her, but Alma keeps screaming for mommy, so Jay has to come to the rescue. Feeling a little rejected, Frankie returns to bed, wondering what it would be like to have two kids screaming for Jay, not wanting him. Ashamed for these feelings of jealousy, he reminds himself that Alma is a toddler, and that all he can do is make her feel safe, comfortable, and nurtured.

When Jay stumbles into bed a little later, she barely has time to throw her arm around his waist before she's out cold. Frankie remains wide awake for an hour or two, staring into the dark, a strong assurance growing in him. He wants more children, wants another baby with this amazing woman who's sleeping tucked into his side. He has no idea how he'll support two children, but he wants to try, he needs to try.

When he finally succumbs to sleep, his final thought is about how he'll break it to Jay, especially after today, with that unfortunate encounter in the supermarket.

*** Jay has to drive Frankie to the base the following day as well and pick him up after work. Throughout the day he tries to call the shop, but nobody is picking up, and he's beginning to fume.

When he’s finally walking out of the base, he sees Jay waiting for him on the parking lot. She’s standing outside the car, talking to a couple of former teammates, swapping news. He joins them, gets a quick kiss on the cheek from Jay who quickly wraps it up. They say their good-byes and get in the car, but just as Jay’s about to turn the key in the ignition, she freezes, her eyes narrowing. Frankie follows her gaze across the parking lot and sees Hall, striding towards his truck.

“Let it be,” he says in a low voice, knowing what she’s thinking. “Jay.”

“I’m good.” But she’s still following Hall with her eyes, her lips pressed together in a tight line. Before Frankie can stop her, she’s opened the door, slipped out, and is on her way towards Hall.

“Shit,” Frankie sighs and gets out of the car, following her. She’s quick on her feet, reaching Hall just as he’s about to get into his car.

“Hey!”

Hall looks around just as Jay’s knuckle connects with his jaw. His head snaps back and he crashes into the side of his car. Frankie’s heart skips a beat and he’s there just in time to pull her away. She’s calm and collected, following him willingly.

“Should have done that a long time ago,” she lets Hall know. “You are human trash, and if you ever open your ugly fucking face at me again, I’ll make sure you’ll be taking all of your meals through a straw for the rest of your life.”

With that, she turns around and returns briskly to the car. Frankie throws Hall a look of warning, catching the man’s confusion and humiliation, then follows her. They get into the car and Jay drives away. When the parking lot has disappeared from the rear-view mirror, she sighs deeply.

“That felt fucking good.”

“You shouldn’t have done it,” Frankie shakes his head. “He’ll report you.”

“He won’t confess to having been beat up by a woman,” Jay scoffs. She has a point: Hall would rather just forget about it than have the whole base know that Jay Ray clocked him.

She keeps her eyes on the road and seems calm enough, but now she’s rubbing her right knuckles with her left hand.

“You hurt?” Frankie questions, still not sure what he thinks of the whole situation. He knows Jay can fend for herself, but this was unnecessary and dangerous.

“Nah, just a little sore. Haven’t punched anyone without gloves in years.”

“You think it was such a good idea?”

“Probably not,” she shrugs and hits the turn signal, coming out on the highway. “But I wanted to.”

Frankie glances at her, still trying to sort out his feelings. Jay has always been a fighter, ready to stand her ground, and he always admired that about her. She never takes any shit from anyone, and Frankie was always the first one to cheer her on. So why is he feeling so conflicted about it now? Is it really because she's no longer in the service, and - Lord forbid - because she is a mother? The mother of his child?

Does he think so little of her?

"You're not happy about it, are you?" Jay interrupts his musings, her voice matter-of-factly. Frankie has to smile. There it is again: her fearless ability to put him right on the spot.

"I'm not unhappy about it," he says carefully.

"That's unusually vague, even for you."

“It’s hard to know what to say. It was fucking hot but so very dangerous.”

Jay laughs, and the mood in the car lightens up immediately.

“Doesn’t hot and dangerous go hand in hand?” she retorts, and Frankie chuckles. They drive for a mile or so in silence. Frankie chews on his lower lip, scratches his mustache, fidgets until Jay sighs.

"Look," she tells him quietly, her eyes on the road. "I can see something's up. And it’s not just me being hot and dangerous."

"Nothing's wrong."

He can sense the tension in her. He and Jay have always shared a strong belief in communication, ever since they got together. It is a cornerstone of their relationship.

"I mean it," he now tries to verbalize his turmoil. "Nothing's wrong, I just... I don't really know where I fit in."

He can see from her that she has questions, but she's letting him speak.

"I mean," he makes another attempt, "you have your job. You're good at it, you love it. I have mine, but... I'm not sure I want it?"

"Oh?" The question mark is encouraging him to go on.

"I don't know, it just feels like it's not really me anymore, I guess. I love flying, but..." He shrugs. "I just don't know."

"You know it's just a job, right?" Jay points out. "You're not there forever. You can quit."

"And do what?" he scoffs, as they're closing in on the whole point. "We have a kid, we need two incomes, and I don't have a degree."

"You can always get one."

"Ain't got that in me."

"If you're going to bitch and moan like Tom..." Jay warns him, but with a hint of softness in her voice. He chuckles.

"Not to you, I wouldn't."

Jay checks the rear-view mirror, hits the turn signal, and gets off the highway. As she slows down and comes to an intersection, she turns her head to Frankie.

"Look, I'm not going to tell you what you should do. But you know I'll give you my opinion if you ask for it, right?"

"Yeah."

"And I'll support you, whatever you decide."

"I know. I just need to figure this out."

"Of course. We can talk more about it tonight."

Alma is over the moon to see her parents when they pick her up at Dorothy's. It’s a funny age: for no apparent reason, one day is all sunshine and sunflowers, the other is thunderstorms and hail. She clings to Frankie, who carries her to the car, listening patiently to her prattling on about her day. When she's strapped into her seat, Frankie's phone rings: it's the repair shop, and his truck is fixed. He feels lighter than he has in days when Jay drops him off and he gets to drive himself home.

Alma spends the rest of the evening being her most charming yet high energy self, dragging Frankie around the house as a part of her games. When it's time for bed, Frankie helps her brush her teeth but finds that there is not much assistance needed, only supervision. When did his little baby get this big? Proudly and with a little lump in his throat, he watches her rinse and spit, then brush her hair, before helping her use the toilet. When she's tucked into bed, he folds himself next to her with a picture book and starts to read it in Spanish. Alma traces the English words, sometimes stopping at one, asking what the letters mean, and Frankie tells her in both languages. They always speak Spanish during these moments together at bedtime, and Frankie cherishes them tremendously. His parents raised three children but always found time for all three of them at bedtime, talking and cuddling and just making sure they were comfortable and safe. He remembers those moments fondly and wants his child to have them as well.

"Time to sleep, Almalita," he whispers when the book is read, and his daughter is blinking sleepily.

"Will you braid my hair tomorrow?" she yawns, rubbing her eyes.

"Of course." He brushes the hair out of her face and kisses her forehead. “Can I have kisses?”

Alma carefully puts her tiny hands on either side of his face and places wet little kisses on the patches in his beard, first on one side, then the other. She always kisses the those spots, and Frankie will always remember why: at barely two years of age, Alma once spent an entire bedtime story tracing them with her fingers and eventually asking What is this? Frankie had explained to her that the bald patches were there for kissing, so that little girls’ soft lips wouldn’t be scratched by the beard. Since then, Alma always kisses him there.

"Thank you, mijita. Sweet dreams.” He gives her another kiss, inhales the sweet scent of his amazing little girl, before gently scraping his mustache against her cheek, making her giggle.

He gets out of bed and tucks her in properly, handing her the favorite stuffed toy du jour, and kisses her again with a Good night before retreating to the door. Turning around for a last look, he feels his heart swell two sizes.

God. She went from newborn to a tough, almost independent three-year-old in the blink of an eye. When did this happen? While he was working and someone else was raising her?

He finds Jay in their bedroom, getting undressed.

"She go down okay?" she asks as he shows up in the doorway. Nodding, he leans against the doorframe and watches her take off her bra. A spark of desire flies off deep in his groin, but Jay puts on a sports bra almost immediately.

"You going out?" he asks, a little disappointed. She nods as she pulls on a hoodie.

"I gotta go for a run, clear my head a little. Long day."

He nods, meeting her smile as she comes around the bed and up to him. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she leans in for a quick kiss.

"I won't be long. Don't fall asleep."

"Oh...?" He raises one brow, and Jay grins.

"Yeah, that's right, daddy's getting lucky tonight."

"Is that so?"

"But mommy needs to let off some steam first."

She slaps her hands to his ass cheeks before brushing past him. A few moments later he hears the front door open and close.

Frankie needs to talk to her, must tell her that he's ready to have another kid. He has no idea about what he wants to do for a job, but he knows with absolute certainty that he wants to have a baby with her. He has so much more love to give, his heart pours over with it whenever he looks at her, at Alma, and he wants to share it with a fourth family member.

He busies himself with chores until he hears the front door open again. Hurrying to the entry, he finds Jay untying her shoes. When she straightens, he wants to tell her immediately, but there is something about her flushed, panting appearance that leaves words for later. Instead, he grabs her by the shoulders and presses his lips to hers. Jay kicks off her shoes and Frankie wants to get her upstairs, but she drags him to the living-room instead. Before he knows it, he’s on the couch and he has no clothes on and she’s standing in front of him and she is naked as well, and so fucking sexy. Frankie grabs her by the wrist and pulls her to him, almost making her topple over, but Jay regains her balance and is about to straddle him when he moves his hands to her waist and pulls her down on her back on the couch. She presses her nails into his triceps when he slams into her. She’s so fucking wet and tight, like only she can be, and she smells of sweat from her run, and it drives him wild. He doesn’t give her time to adjust to his size, not this time, and her toothy kisses tells him she’s more than okay with it.

Jay mewls, grabs his upper arms, and one of her legs goes around him and twists, and then she pushes him up and over, and he capsizes over the edge of the couch. She follows, holding onto him tightly, and hisses when her knee hits the floor. Frankie grunts when his back takes most of the fall, but Jay is now on top of him and she grabs his dick, all slick from having been in her pussy. She pumps it a couple of times before leading it into her again, and he thrusts upwards despite knowing she doesn’t like it when she’s on top and wants to do all the work, but he must get inside her again. “Fuck!” she gasps and her back curves out when she leans down, her fingers pressing between his ribs as she kisses him. His hands run down the length of her, reclaiming every known inch of her that he can reach. Her teeth close around his lower lip and draw it out when she straightens her back and starts to ride him frantically. Frankie covers her tits with his hands and pinches, kneads, rolls her nipples between his fingers until she throws her head back and sounds a throaty, loud moan while rubbing against him, her whole body shaking with the orgasm tearing through her.

Frankie clenches his teeth and allows himself to enjoy the sight before him before he, too, succumbs to the climax that shuts his eyes close and makes him grunt in helpless surrender.

Jay collapses over him, her face fitting so well where his neck curves into his shoulder. Her breaths are short and shallow, her body heavy on his. He wraps his arms around her and keeps her close, so close he can feel her heart drumming to the same quick beat as his own.

Gratitude washes over him, complete and overwhelming, along with the feeling that he doesn’t deserve her, yet knowing that he’s done everything to deserve her. The two of them belong together, and Alma with them. The best thing he ever did was to make a baby with Jay.

It seems so clear and simple now. What has he been waiting for, really?

"Jay," he murmurs, caressing her side, "let's make a baby."

"Huh?"

"Let's have another baby. We've talked about it often enough. Why not just go for it? I want to have another baby with you."

"What about your job and all that?" Jay gets up on one forearm and caresses his cheek, her fingers lingering on the bald spots in his beard.

"I'll figure it out. We will figure it out." He turns his face so that he can kiss her palm. "Jay, I don't know for sure what I want to work with, but I'm absolutely certain that I want another baby with you. Being a dad is the best job I ever had."

He waits for her answer, hoping she has one for him now and not later, worrying about being too pushy but knowing that he needed to make it known what he really wanted. When she starts to smile widely, he feels calm.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." She laughs a little. "Yes. Let's have another baby."

"You sure?" Frankie has to ask. This went so much easier than expected. Jay slaps him lightly on the chest.

"You want to put a baby in me or not?"

He laughs at that, then rolls both of them over so that he's on top and dips his face down to kiss her neck.

"Gonna fill you with my cum," he murmurs, already hardening at the thought. Their sex life was amazing when Jay was pregnant with Alma, and he's already looking forward to a reprise. Jay slides her hand down between them and teases him with soft fingers.

"Gotta get you big and hard first, daddy," she breathes, "and then you can fuck me, and cum inside me, all the way inside, and if it doesn't take, you'll have to do it again and again and again..."

There's nothing original about her words, but they make him feral. He kisses her hotly, plunges his tongue inside her mouth, barely gives her the time to reciprocate before he drags his lips along her jawline, nibbles on her earlobe, kisses his way down her neck and chest, suckles one nipple, then the other, while growing stiff and ready to finally slide into her again.

She grunts when he pushes into her, and he feels his knees complain.

"Not the most comfortable place to fuck, huh?" he chuckles breathlessly, taking a moment to pepper her face with kisses. Jay combs her fingers through his hair, tugging a little at the neck.

"Bedroom?"

He lets out a little growl at the idea of pulling out, but her suggestion makes sense. They scramble to their feet, and only fifteen seconds later he pushes into her again, this time on soft bedding.

"I love you," he murmurs when her hungry pussy takes him balls deep. "I love you so much."

"And I love you," she assures him before pulling him in for a kiss. She moans into his mouth when he starts to move, breaks the kiss to instead trace her warm lips along his neck. Frankie leans his head back, exhaling in a low moan at her ministrations, lets her pour her love over his neck and shoulder before chasing and capturing her lips with his once again. He fucks her without hurry, indulges himself in the way her strong pussy clutches his cock in a slow drag in and out, her sounds, the surrender of her limbs underneath him. His brain is soaked in pleasure and fixed on his purpose: to fuck a baby into her, let his love grow in her womb, become a tiny person for them to take care of.

Jay's breaths are coming in short and shallow now. She whines and throws her head back, her hips rising to meet his in a wordless plea for him to go faster. Frankie obliges her, wrapping one arm around her head, keeping his eyes trained on her face. He smiles a little at the faces she makes when she gives herself up to pleasure, finds it amazing that he can know these funny, intimate details about her.

"Almost," she gasps, reaching between them to rub her clit. A moan tells him she found just the right spot.

"God, Frankie, so good, fuck, don't stop...!"

His balls are tight, he's going to blow within seconds, he growls as he tries to hold it together for just one more thrust, and another, and another, holy fucking God, now Jay is cumming underneath him, her mouth wide open as if she's about to scream, but not a word comes out, and the second after, he empties his balls inside her, presses himself to her as tightly as he can, paints her womb with his cum.

He must have dozed off because he startles when Jay's carefully nudging him off of her. He rolls heavily onto his side next to her and opens his eyes to her sleepy smile. He smiles back and raises his hand to caress her cheek, admiring the way her eyes close at his touch, like she's a cat basking in his adoration.

"You sure about this?" he whispers. Her eyes open again, calm and unfathomably blue. He wishes his daughter could have had those pretty blue eyes.

"I am. Don't tell me you're having second thoughts."

"No," he hurries to assure her, "but with everything else going on, your job, my job, Alma being a handful..."

"I'm still on the pill," Jay reminds him softly. "It might take a while."

He didn't even think about that, and the realization makes him equally jittery and relieved.

“We’ll have time to figure stuff out, then,” he summarizes, hoping it won’t take too long. Jay nods.

"We will."

Slowly, she turns onto her back, and stretches.

"I'm gonna take a shower. You comin', too?"

He's too tired really, but when Jay gets up and he sees that ass walk out the room, he's suddenly in a hurry to follow her.

[demon-shark]

Red Cloud Curse; Chapter 0

Trigger Warnings: Canon typical violence, cussing, shipping (mystery), not All Might friendly

Shinobi are forced to travel through different dimensions for an unknown reason and they make it everyone else's problem.

Sasori woke up to yelling…

He slowly sat up, opening his eyes to a murky alleyway lit by scarlet red sky. As soon as he noticed it however it quickly turned a dark blue. As his eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness he noticed a bunch of teenagers in the alley with him. As he looked over at the two that were yelling a sickening feeling pooled in his gut, one of them looked exactly like Deidara had when he had first joined the Akatsuki. As the fog cleared from his mind the sickening feeling got worse, he didn’t just look like Deidara he acted and sounded like him too. Next to him was what he could only assume was Hidan from his silvery hair, magenta eyes, and bad attitude. They were already annoying before but somehow their squeaky teen voices made them even more grating. Looking over the other teens he recognized most of them as his coworkers, there was also a shriveled husk of a boy with Pein’s eyes that could only assume was their leader’s true body, but some of them he had no clue about. A boy with an orange mask, a boy with long spiky black hair, and an albino boy with red face markings. 

More importantly, what caused this hell in the first place? Looking around at the tall buildings and strange iron machines on the road he knew he was far away from the land of shinobi. The only teleportation jutsu that could possibly make such a distance was the Flying Raijin but he was sure it didn’t have such a disastrous consequence as turning the users into 14-year-olds. He thought back to the moments leading to his situation. He was walking towards Sunagakure with Deidara to capture the One-tails Jinchuuriki when the sky turned into that same scarlet color he saw when he first woke up. Who possessed the strength to cast such a jutsu? They would have to have quite the chakra reserve since it not only captured him and Deidara but other Akatsuki members as well, all of whom were scattered all over the continent. It would also require amazing control as well since they seemed to have specific targets. There was also the question of whether or not the caster of the jutsu was here, sure there were the three unidentified teens, but would the caster also turn themself into a child? It could always be a side effect but even at this age Sasori was more than skilled enough to take out an entire country. The other Akatsuki members were also in similar states so what would the point be? 

As Sasori thought over the possibilities one name stuck out to him. Orochimaru. He would be the type to cast such a jutsu. It would also be a good way for him to get the Akatsuki far away from whatever he’s plotting this time. Just the thought of getting caught in one of Orochimaru’s jutsus caused his skin to crawl. That slimy bastard always managed to get him to shake with something he hadn’t felt in a long time. As Sasori leaned back in his Hiruko shell he felt something strange touch his back. He snapped his head around only to face… himself. Specifically his puppet body. It felt like all of his organs dropped as he quickly pulled up his arm. It seems that he had suffered a much worse consequence than his coworkers. Sasori, in a panic, checked over his arms with the familiar precision of a medical ninja to confirm his fears. No matter how hard he searched he couldn’t find the familiar chakra-infused vel kaduru wood, the waterproof finish, the steel joints, or anything that might have brought him some comfort. Something to prove that all his research, everything he put his body through, and the months of being out of commission weren’t ruined. But he found nothing…

 He was snapped out of his feeling of helplessness by a deep and dry voice. “Enough.” Hidan and Deidara stopped their yelling as everyone turned to the husk. “It seems we are no longer in our world.” Konan turned to him with a raised brow, asking, “What makes you say that?” The husk moves his hand out and performs the summoning jutsu only for nothing to appear, “My summons are no longer responding to my call.” Sasori couldn’t help but wonder if he was referring to the corpses that he would receive his orders from. It was then they heard someone scream from outside of the alleyway. They got up and peeked out to see a rather strange sight, someone with green slime-like hair and no nose was running away with a stone woman’s purse. Their clothing was uncanny, Sasori could recognize certain elements but other parts felt too foreign. It was then that someone dressed in black with a long white cloth jumped from the shadows and captured the would-be thief, “Thank you, Eraserhead!”. Some other civilians nearby then took out strange boxes that started to flash lights at the man in black as they cheered. 

The husk was right, this definitely isn’t their world. As the situation sunk in, rage-filled Sasori. If that scaly psychopath is behind this, he better hope he finds the secret to invulnerability before Sasori finds him…

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Kakuzu looked over the grocery list he started weighing whether or not they actually needed all the shit on it. As he turned the corner he noticed the fire, it had spread about a block or three and the heroes were being just as useless as they were when they first arrived five weeks ago. 

“I can’t do anything if there are not at least two lanes of traffic!”

“Explosions and flames are not really my cup of tea, I give my place to someone else this time!”

“We expect your help, thank you! Turning off this fire requires my full attention!”

“The truck is not there yet? What the fuck?!”

“It is so slippery you can’t catch him with bare hands, and more, because this kid has a good quirk, the only solution is to wait it out!” Kakuzu grumbled under his breath, going around the disaster zone would add 15 minutes to his travel time and he really didn’t want to spend more time than he had to on this. As he continued forward through the flames he watched the slime quirk user lash out more causing the heroes to panic. “It’s useless! No one here can stop this!! One can only wait for someone with an advantageous quirk to show up!!” The firefighter turned to the main hero group, “What will you do with the number of victims growing during this time?! Bring someone, and now!” Kakuzu looked up from the grocery list at the chaos before him. “It makes me feel sorry for the kid, but he will have to wait a little longer.” With the cheers of the people rooting for the ‘heroes’ echoing in his ears, Kakuzu used a water jutsu to flood the street. The slime quirk user paused in shock for a moment and that was all Kakuzu needed to rip the hostage from his grasp and splatter him across the street. 

Kakuzu didn’t pause in his movements, the crowd parting before as the heroes looked on in shock. Only after he turned the corner did they seem to snap out of it. After going down another two blocks he arrived at the grocery store. If he hadn’t been gathering coupons like his life depended on it, he doubted they would be able to afford half the things on the list. As he wandered around looking for the cheapest possible version of everything on the list, he noticed a woman who wouldn’t stop staring at him. At first he tried to ignore it since the woman was clearly a civilian. But as the minutes ticked past the woman’s stare went from an annoying itch to a burning that he could no longer ignore. Kakuzu then quickly turned down into another aisle… only for the woman to follow him, peaking around the corner with an unblinking stare. Now he was starting to get irritated, Kakuzu turned to the woman who jumped when their eyes met, “Can I help you?”. 

“You’re the guy they’re talking about on the TV, right?” The woman then pointed at the TV that was showing his picture as they talked about a young man stepping up during the villain attack. “Dammit,” Kakuzu quickly decided screw the groceries he’s not dealing with this shit. He took what he had and did a brisk walk towards the cashier. The cashier stared at him in surprise before looking back at the screen, before the cashier could say anything Kakuzu cut them off, “Don’t,”. The cashier jumped in their spot before they started to quickly scan through the groceries. Kakuzu dug through his pockets and as the cashier said, “T-that’s going to be ¥70.49.” He slammed his coupons on the counter causing the cashier to jump again. “Your new total is ¥12.70.” Kakuzu paid, grabbed his items, and sped walked out of that store. 

As he turned the corner his heart dropped, in front of him was a crowd of people gathered in front of a shopping window full of TVs. All of which had his face plastered in HD. He ducked into an alley as someone turned their head in his direction. He was not going to deal with this today. He sneaked onto the city rooftop and started jumping the buildings, he would rather risk a hero encounter than another civilian. As he ran over the rooftops he saw the worst possible thing… his face plastered on one of those electric billboards. He didn’t think his archnemesis would be TV, yet here he stands. As he entered the suburbs he silently slipped down into an alley before continuing his walk as usual. This entire situation caused him to be out much longer than expected and worst of all gave him a migraine. 

“I’M HERE!!” Like his day couldn’t get any worse. Some hulking man rushed out from the corner behind him and caused his migraine to send iron spikes through his skull. After Kakuzu sent him a death glare, the bruiser gave an awkward cough and rubbed something off his cheek. “Young Man! I came to thank you!!” There was a brief pause as if the man was expecting something. However, Kakuzu just stared at him before asking, “Who are you?” The man ended up coughing blood and shriveling down to less than half his size. Kakuzu quickly assumed his quirk had something to do with it and the blood was a side effect. “Crap, I ran out of time.” Kakuzu barely held back a snide comment about his wasting that precious time talking to a random kid. The man continued to cough up blood before eventually pulling himself together. “Anyway, I came to thank you. At that time, I was nothing but a worthless bystander watching from the crowd. So thanks. There are stories about every hero, how they became great. Most have one thing in common. Their bodies moved before they had the chance to think. Almost on their own. And today, that’s what happened to you.” Kakuzu paused at that. “What are you going on about?”

The man paused in surprise. “I didn’t step in because of some unconscious movement, I stepped in because I didn’t want to waste time going around it. And as for that situation earlier, damn right you were useless. You and anyone else there could have stepped up and done something, yet you all waited for someone else to come along and solve the problem. What would have happened if I hadn’t shown up? Sure, someone else could have stepped up, but from the looks of it, what should have been a minor problem would have destroyed the shopping district and the hostage would be dead.” The man stood there in absolute silence. “You can think about that next time you decide to stand around.” Kakuzu then left, the sun was starting to go down and he was rather pissed. A trip that should have taken an hour at most ended up wasting his entire day because he had to avoid being spotted. 

As we walked through the door, his day got even worse. “I always knew you had it in you, Kakuzu!” Hidan rounded the corner with the grin of a demon out of hell. “Way to show those heroes who the TRUE hero is around here.” Hidan then stepped too close to Kakuzu as he said, “I kept telling those guys that you had a golden heart hidden under your gunky layers.” 

Kakuzu punched him through the window…

[talagalaxies]

Rewatching ep1 thots:

Indara saying "unidentified force user" like they own every force user in the galaxy??? Scale-wise, it's absurb af. Do they think each force user is a property of a jedi? Which thankfully that take was addressed eps later.

I've been wondering why Mae fixates on the jedi master's weapons, and I'm wondering what motives does she had to fixate on that up until this day. Methinks at that time, she found the Stranger's words bullshit; she wants that weapon all by herself! (?)

So osha is basically doing illegal work?

Osha trying to be affectionate to Yord but Yord remains stoic ☹️. Jedi upbringings smh

Everyone to Sol when he speaks about Osha:

So that Rayencourt senator last ep is one of their political enemies? Why Vernestra wants the jedi killer thingy discreet? Aren't the jedi powerful enough to expell doubts of suspicion? Or their cracks are showing already, and Rayencourt is one of them?

Hold on, IS THAT WHY PALPS TAKE ADVANTAGE OF JEDI'S DISCREETINESS FROM THE REPUBLIC SO HE SLIPS INTO THE REPUBLIC AS AN ADVANTAGE?? Vernestra said they have political enemies. Plural. DID PALPS GATHER THESE POLITICAL ENEMIES AS AN ADVANTAGE

So a person being called a Jedi Killer is accursed? Like in asoiaf how kinslayer is accursed? Well makes sense because at that time, the jedi are at the top of the political pyramid ig. To a rando, the jedi have weird godlike powers, so killing one of them is a big deal, a sin even.

Hmm Sol gets angry at that criminal who badmouths Osha. Okay faildad!

The fire motifs of this episode is recurring. Which could mean nothing.

I grilled Sol (affectionate) for him remaining in the temple teaching padawans while the rest of his brendok crew went to exile from trauma and guilt. What if him being there is his exile? "Oh I doomed a child because I'm hellbent in having so? Okay I'll be stuck in this job teaching kids then. Thats what I'm signing for, it's it?" Okay sunk-cost fallacy king.

The droids piloting the ship being literal chairs is such a big brain idea.

Did Pip SPEAK actual words? Because i hear "hello" and "what's happening"

I'm high-key sure Sol was hella upset that Osha decides to drop-out jedi school. I know he got a depressive episode after this.

Also, SOL IS POWERFUL AF. Like he just sensed something then Yord and Jecki followed without question. Not just he's the master, but he knows his shit. I mean this dude beats Qimir TWICE. No wonder Vernestra hesitates on the Getting Osha mission. Sol is VALUABLE. If he got his positive character arc, he's surely be seated in the high council.

Even if the jailbreak will be safe, Osha still chooses to stay because she wants to go to Coruscant to see Sol again ☹️. That's her dad, after all.

Speaking of, wdym Coruscant is pronounced as "Co-ru-sant", leaving the small C? It pissed me off man bc i thought I'd supposed to be phonetically pronounced! No silent letter shit 😭.

THE LAST SHOT OF EP1 IS AT THE UNKNOWN PLANET DOESN'T IT? WHICH MEANS MAE KNOWS TO NAVIGATE TO THERE. So she got the cave privileges like Osha does in ep6? Or she's just there to do mission report then leaves? Wait did she and Stranger go together???

Now i badly want a backstory to Mae and Qimir

[auntie-venom]

Will of Fate

Chapter Three

Fandom: Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Story Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Characters: Din Djarin x Original Female Character

Summary: There hasn’t been an unidentified spacecraft in the stratosphere of Arkadia in over two decades, let alone three in one day. Those skilled or mad enough to venture into the Chaos unguided were few and far between. That means no one has ever made it to Arkadia who wasn’t intending to be here.

Until today.

or

Din Djarin finds an unmapped planet filled with beings who have the same powers as the Child, but know nothing of the force or the Jedi.

Chapter Summary: Eziriel now has a concussed Mandalorian she has to get to safety and find out why he was even near enough to her planet to get here.

Word Count - 4,623

Chapter Warnings: Language

Will of Fate Masterlist

Read on Ao3

A/N: Sorry for the week-long delay, had a friend visiting and we went on adventures. I am considering posting a copy of this as a second POV reader fic for those who prefer it. Would that be wise?

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Feedback and critique is welcome, I am trying to get better. Reminder this is unbetaed. :) 

Chapter three

The Mandalorian did end up sending the winch back down to Eziriel which eased her suspicions minutely and loosened the anxiety in her chest tremendously. She needs to know if he could be trusted and this was a minor assessment she put forth. She didn’t know if he threw the cable back down without a second thought or if he had noticed that the key to the speeder wasn’t in the ignition—it was definitely in her pocket—but she was thankful either way. She imagines he could have easily hot wired the speeder.

Her brief Infiltrator training had kicked in the moment she made contact with the unknown man. The responsibility to discover a person’s truest intentions in order to protect Arkadia was drilled into her head hard enough that she immediately casted her Will out. She is not nearly as skilled as others when it comes to using her Will to penetrate the mind, but she is able to glean emotions from others when she focuses. The problem was that his head injury is causing his emotions to jump in a disorientating way and her read on him is somewhat jumbled. He mostly cycled through panic, worry, and pain through the conversation she held with him on his ship, but he did have spikes in irritation from her verbal provocations which was a good sign.

Irritating a person of interest was her preferred tactic to elicit a truthful emotional response. It says a lot about a person when they don’t outwardly show their agitation or confront Eziriel’s vexing nature and it usually means they are presenting a facade to masquerade in some way. The Mandalorian not only physically reacted to her verbal jabs but he didn’t seem to hide his unease with her. She didn’t know if his authenticity could be truly trusted because it might be due to his injured state, but he did hold out an arm to ease her final ascent over the cliff’s edge which put a point in favor of trustworthy.

The man, like most adults, towers over her. He has a broad frame that displays his armor in a striking image. Each move he makes is self assured with no sign of second guessing. He keeps one hand resting on his belt while the silver armor gleams under the rain that pelts them both. The overall visage would be quite intimidating if she couldn’t feel the pain radiating off him.

After watching him scope his surroundings she activates her HolOmni to bring up a map of the local area. While showing him the projection she gives him a brief explanation that they were hundreds of miles away from civilization. She watches as his shoulders tightened and a resigned sigh left his vocoder at this information.

“I was staying there for the night and planned to head back to the capitol in the morning,” she says, pointing at the beaming light at the top of the beacon station that she previously exited in a rush. “You are welcome to join me.”

The T shaped visor of the helmet locks on her for a moment before dipping his head in agreement. He’s not much of a talker, it seems. It must be a Mandalorian thing because Rezzik also uses a silent demeanor when interacting with new people. She remembers when she was a child she asked him about why he was so quiet in public when he was a great storyteller at home; “People reveal who they are in silence,” he had said. She didn’t understand and hated the answer at the time, but that insight helped her misdirect authority figures who used that same silent tactic when she grew into mischievous adolescence. Knowing how the mind game worked before being forced to play it gave her an advantage that others did not.

The wind picks up and the storm rages a little stronger by the time she loaded him and tied his metal pod onto the back of the speeder. She feels the exhaustion of the being inside the pod and concludes they must be unconscious from how deep in sleep the mind is. There isn’t even the little spill of emotions from dreams most beings have when they sleep. Poor creature must have unwillingly gone under.

Glancing up at the Mandalorian she notices him holding himself very stiffly and he keeps correcting his head from swaying. She clocks this behavior and pulls up her visor so she could keep track of his vital signs while she drives. With a quick weighing of the pros and cons she sent a command into her HolOmni to have CHI sync her comm to the one in his helmet just in case they need to communicate on the ride. She didn’t want the man to fall off the speeder and injure himself further. Amarian would never let her live that down.

She kicks the speeder to life and makes sure to start off slowly so he can get used to the speed and balance. He grips the side handles tightly so she tries not to take turns too quickly. His head injury must be messing with him worse than she imagined and she makes a mental note to get the medkit to him immediately. About halfway there she notices his blood pressure dropping suddenly again and so she used the tactic that worked to stabilize him last time: annoyance.

“So my lovely Lori, you crash onto planets often or are we just lucky enough to get your handsome self?” She feels his larger frame jolt back into a firm stance and she watches as his blood pressure rises then stabilizes once again. She’d bet he had a hand on his blaster again, but didn’t look to verify her theory.

“How the hell are you in my helmet comms?” His unmodulated voice is a pleasantly low timbre. Through her earpiece she can hear the irritation in his voice and she feels his emotions match it. Still being authentic.

Good.

“Clever, remember?” She gives him a quick smirk over her shoulder and feels his irritation spike.

“Intrusive is more like it,” he grumbles back and she chuckles at him.

“Sorry Silver, I am bound to your safety,” she shrugs her shoulders, “and according to your vital signs it seemed like you were on the verge of going unconscious again. I had to keep you awake somehow.”

“And slicing into my helmet’s comms was your only way?” His voice seemed a little less slurred.

“It was the more fun option.” She smiles at the annoyance bleeding deeper into his emotions, “I mean, it also wasn’t exactly the most safeguarded.”

She hears a scoff that probably would go unnoticed if she weren’t directly in his comms. “What does that mean?” There is an air of offense in his reply.

“It means that anyone with a processor could get through that firewall if they had half a brain and an understanding of syntax patterns,” she verbally baits, and takes a turn a little harder than necessary hoping to keep him engaged and on his toes.

“I’ve never had a problem with my frequencies being hijacked before,” he states.

“Are you saying I am special?” She gives him a dramatized gasp, “You flatterer.” She smiles to herself at his heavy sigh as they pull up to the beacon station.

The door was still ajar and foliage and rain had made it into the entrance. She kicks as much of the mess back outside before dimming the interior lights in hopes to not make his concussive state more painful. She turns to invite the Mandalorian in and finds him right behind her and his helmet locked on her and the pod hovering next to him. She steps aside and gives a dramatic presentational bow to invite him in.

The ground floor of Ga’ladora Beacon Station is a cozy space. The main room has a small sofa that sits opposite of a round table. Along the back wall houses a small kitchenette and the storage cabinets of tools, emergency supplies, and the rations that were kept in all the stations. On one side of the room lay doors to a refresher and a small room with bunks while the other side is a staircase that ran along the wall that spiraled up to the top of the tower. Under the curved wall of the staircase lies the open utility door and the tangled mess of cables she left behind in a rush. She lets out a curse and rushes to deactivate the soldering iron that blackened the stone floor.

Glancing back she notices the Mandalorian standing just inside the entrance with the door still open. She reaches a hand in that direction and Wills the door closed, causing his shoulders to stiffen at the noise. She disregards him and peels off her drenched cloak, laying it on the back of a chair, and makes her way to the supply cache. Pulling out a medkit she gently sends it to the table with her Will before turning back to dig through the supplies for the kettle.

“I’m going to make some tea to go with these tasteless rations.” She pulls out the found kettle and turns to smile at him, “The fresher is through the door on the right if you want to use the medkit for your wounds. There should be some bacta injections for the head injury, and I can do some basic first aid if you need.”

He makes no movement from the entrance and she tilts her head at him curiously at the feeling of surprise coming from him. Her look seems to shake him out of his stupor and he grabs the medkit before disappearing to the refresher with that metal pod tailing him. She makes a face to herself at his behavior before setting up the kettle and pulling out rations.

While the kettle is brewing Eziriel takes a moment to fully go through what has happened this evening. The Cloak of Arkadia went down enough to allow undesignated ships into the planet’s airspace. She would guess that error had something to do with the odd signals she was receiving back in Helix from the south eastern beacon stations. It had been a three week journey to check all the stations in the quadrant and this was the last beacon station on her list. Every unit so far was fully functional upon her inspection and she was hoping to discover the source of the mystery readings here. Now that she was behind schedule she hoped she would get her answer tonight without losing too much sleep.

This malfunction was worrying enough as it is, but adding the possibility that the TIE fighter that got away could very well bring back more was disastrous.

“CHI-CHI, have Amarian send a drop team to the area the TIE fighter went down in. We don’t want any activated tracers bringing the Empire our way.” She gives a sigh at the thought before continuing, “We also need to make sure there aren’t any kriffing Imps on our planet from the wreck. It went down hard, but you never know.”

“Quite right,” CHI responds back from her HolOmni.

The kettle beeps and she goes to get mugs and tea bags while she tries to think about what to do about her new companion. She pulled a Mandalorian out of the wreckage of his own ship, bound herself to a man she doesn’t even know in order to gain his trust, and now she has to navigate the bureaucratic minefield of getting an unsanctioned person planetside when the person is already here. She’d rather spend three more weeks doing manual diagnostics scans on the beacon stations than have to play politics.

“King Amarian wants to know if he needs to send a real Infiltrator to interrogate the Mandalorian,” CHI’s bored voice fills the quiet space once more. She doubts that Amarian worded the offer quite like that.

“I’ll vet him, no worries.” She says with a shrug no one sees as she pours the boiling water into the mugs.

“Ahh, yes. The stamp of approval of a failed Infiltrator will pass screenings, surely,” they snark back, causing Ezirial to roll her eyes.

“Kindly, go suck some malware CHI,” she says as she drops a tea bag in each cup and turns around with both mugs in her hands to see the Mandalorian standing by the table. “Damn Silver, you are silent for a giant man of metal.”

“You were preoccupied.” He is giving her the opportunity to be honest about discussing him and she appreciates it over flinging accusations.

“Had to get a team to check out the TIE fighter wreckage. We don’t want any Imperial rubbish on this planet if we can help it.” She walks over and sets down the mugs and ration packs before sitting. “We have a very tight passage control on this planet. The fact that you are even here uninvited is a first, to my knowledge.”

She gestures to the food as an open invitation to sit and eat and he doesn’t move. She looks up at him in mild confusion at him just staring at her without doing anything. She reaches out and finds his emotions are less erratic, meaning his head is clearer and that bacta shot must have helped. He is giving off a solid stream of suspicion and curiosity.

“Uhhh, are you going to eat? Or–OH!” She interrupts herself with a memory of Rezzik explaining to her about Mandalorian how armor etiquette varied among the houses and clans. He grew up in House Jexum of Clan Borean that only wore helmets as a signal to inform others that they were in the presence of warriors, usually at training, war, or among enemies. Eziriel jokingly calls it “warrior mode” when she sees Rezzik with his helmet on which usually earns her a playful flick to the ear.

She gestures at the sleeping quarters and Wills the door to open with a groan.

“If you’d like, you can have your meal in there if you are from one of the clans who are persnickety about helmet removal.” She wiggles her fingers toward the door. “We can still talk if you want to keep the door open a smidge. You can even place this chair behind the door and sit on it to make sure I won’t barge in,” she says with a gentle smile.

He takes a moment to weigh his options before just sitting down at the table across from her and ignoring his meal. So that is a different level of trust that we are not at, got it, she thinks.

“So I need to be interrogated to be allowed to be on this planet?” he asks outright. She hums in affirmation into her mug.

“Typically.” She gives him a tired look before continuing, “Usually newcomers, like yourself, are sponsored by someone trusted and then we send agents to meet the newcomers offworld to do a few screenings. If they pass that then they are allowed to come here, but will have to tolerate drop-in screenings to make sure they can truly be trusted.”

“This planet wasn’t on any star charts I’ve seen, why all the secrecy? Where am I?” He props an arm on the table and leans his giant frame in almost like he is trying to intimidate her.

“Arkadia, ‘The Soul of the Galaxy’!” She spreads her hands in the air and wiggles her fingers in sarcastic exuberance and gives him a bright smile at the planetary slogan. After not getting a reaction from him she picks up her ration and continues, “This planet is deep in wild space and has been hidden to anyone who isn't our ally for thousands of years.”

“Why?” He asks.

Eziriel looks at him and casts her Will out once again to get a feel on him. There is a small hum of desire and confusion that usually correlates with curiosity. With no signs of maliciousness, she decides to be honest. She tells him a quick version of the planet’s history of being very rich with very rare elements of all types and how Arkadia was once a target of exploitation nearly a thousand years ago but was lucky enough to be able to hold off attacks and set up defenses which rulers used to lock the planet down for centuries after the attacks. She explains that after years of isolation, elected rulers of Arkadia opened the passage more with each generation until the fall of the Republic where they once again locked down; and how only recently with the destruction of the Empire were there talks about opening passage more once again.

She is finished with her rations and his tea is cold and over-steeped by the time she is done, but she keeps her focus on his emotions the entire time. Overloading information on a person is another one of her favorite tactics in getting an honest read. It’s harder to mask if you spike with emotion on a specific statement when someone is repeatedly hitting you with more and more information. His emotions stayed within the curious spectrum with nothing ever setting him off into another direction.

“Our secret keeps Arkadia alive. That’s why we are hidden.” She finishes before standing up to discard her rubbish.

“I understand,” he finally says almost gently through the vocabulator.

“Can I ask you some questions now?” She watches his shoulders tighten before nodding at her. “What’s a space like you doing in the wilds of man like this?” She asks with a smile hoping to break some of the serious tension. She can’t tell if the huff he makes is a sigh or chuckle but his shoulders loosen a little. She is enjoying the reactions from him, he seems a little wound up.

“Would you believe me if I said it was an accident?” His voice is deep and raspy, less stilted than earlier.

“My brother would say ‘there is no coincidence, only Fate’s Will’, but I find that mindset a little binary.” She moves over to the mass of cables she made a mess of, pulls out the glowrod to help her work in the dimly lit room and plugs her HolOmni’s scomp link in to restart her manual diagnostic scan.

“I was tagged by a TIE patrol squadron and I didn’t want to chance an uncalculated jump across unknown space so I cut through an asteroid field—”

“Wait,” she interrupts with wide eyes. “You flew through The Kusheri Asteroid Belt? Maker’s tits!” She whistles out an impressed tone before continuing, “It has odd gravity pockets caused by certain asteroids' electromagnetic fields. Our pilots usually wait until it passes before flying out and an offworlder just flew in on a whim.”

“Less of a whim, more a tactical desperation,” he says with the lightest tone she has heard from him so far as he crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. She unexpectedly falls into a full laugh at his witty explanation.

“Impressive, nonetheless,” she says to him as she digs out the datapad from the mess she left behind. She starts organizing the mess into piles of importance as her datapad gathers the readings from her HolOmni. He silently watches her as she murmurs to herself the list of things to check before starting her work. “So does the Empire have a bone to pick with Mandalorians or are you just special?”

There is a moment where the tension snaps back into the air. He lets the silence hang while she pretends a cable is more important to her than it actually is. She feels the rumble of anxiety in his emotions. He is special, but whether he is going to be truthful with her remains to be seen.

He remains silent.

“Right.” She nods at him. He is choosing to not lie to her but he also doesn’t want to give her the full truth. “Well, as long as The Cloak or Arkadia functions like it’s supposed to then you are safe here.” She turns back to get back to work before adding softly, “As far as I’m concerned, any enemy of the Empire is a friend to me.”

She asks a few more mundane questions that he answers honestly after she clarified that she has to ask these questions in order to clear him: Where did he grow up? Concordia. Makes sense after the purge, she thinks. Are you a part of a family, house, or clan? Clan Mudhorn. I’ll ask Rezzik if he knows them, she makes a note to herself. Any affiliations with other planetary system’s government? No. She smirks at his tone of disgust.

After pushing through some of the boring questions she lets the sounds of the storm fill the room once again as they both digest the information they’ve given each other. He watches her as she physically examines each cable, capacitor, fuse, and any other sort of connection before placing it back into the wall in a neat and orderly arrangement. She is over halfway through the mess when her datapad alerts her to the completed scan. She picks it up and she feels her stomach tighten as she reads.

That can’t be right.

“Everything alright?” His modulated voice breaks the silence.

“Someone hijacked my system,” she replies in an astonished voice before digging into the section of the hardware where the datapad claimed the problem was.

“Not a great feeling, huh?” There is a level of smugness in the gruff voice that would normally amuse her in any other situation, but her panic dulls the enjoyment.

“I think compromising a planet-wide defense system is a little more detrimental than me kriffing with your comms.”

She runs her hands along the supposed problematic snake of cables until she finds the anomaly that she can’t place. Under the casing of a batch of cables where wires input into a relay is an oblong device the size of her palm. There are no switches on the device, only two inputs and some lights along the side of the device that remain off due to her shifting The Cloak to emergency power.

She sees the wires that were input into the device had been stripped and spliced to fit into it. She carefully disconnects the wires and pulls the device free. She pops the casing at the seams to get a look into it. It’s well built with the circuit board having rudimentary soldering but organized overall and under one side of the shell is a manufacturing stamp.

Eziriel’s manufacturing stamp.

“What the bantha shit?” her voice cries out louder and higher than she expected.

This came from her lab. The lab that she was head of. The lab that only put out specific productions that she approved of. The thought of This is impossible is stuck in a loop in her head as her brain tries to catch up with this new information.

She breathes through the panic at seeing her designated stamp as she puts the device in her front overall’s pocket as she goes to repair the wiring to get the beacon back up on primary power. She did not approve of whatever this thing is and if it was the origin of the malfunction of The Cloak then this will be traced back to her. This is a problem.

The Mandalorian remains silent as she does the repairs, finishes her inspection, and checks her datapad’s scans all the while Eziriel mumbles to herself. By the time she gets all the tech back into the panel and has CHI switch back to primary power it’s well past midnight.

She turns around to see the figure still sitting in the chair and his helmet locked on her. He tilts his head in what she recognizes from Rezzik as a silent, but prodding, question. She walks over to the table setting the device down before dropping herself in the opposite seat and meets the black void of his visor.

“This device was trying to lower the planetary shields, which is how you got in.” She rubs her face in exasperation before continuing, “It has my seal of approval.”

“Which you didn’t give,” he surmises.

“Which I didn’t give,” she confirms and he bobs his head in acknowledgment.

She can’t do any digital forensics here, she doesn’t have the correct adapter for her HolOmni’s scomp link to have CHI read the circuit board and she tells the man as much.

Silence falls over them as she feels the wave of panic start to rise for her throat. She feels the spiraling thoughts begin to run amuck in her head. This is bad. This is treason. No one will believe it wasn’t you. You are going to be—

“C’mon Eziriel, get your shit together,” she interrupts her thoughts with a mumble to herself. She quickly catches the panicked sob that was making its way to her throat. She rubs at her wet eyes and breathes through the anxiety, before addressing the Mandalorian across from her. “Okay, I am going to focus on getting you safely to Helix and settled at home while I get your passage approval underway. You’re gonna be fine.” She says in a forced chipper tone and a strained smile not knowing if she was reassuring herself or the Mandalorian. Focus on what you can control.

“Is that your name?” He asks before clarifying, “Eziriel?”

“Wha—Oh! I’m so sorry! I’m Eziriel Kaita, an honor to save you from the wreckage of your ship,” she says with a dry smile and forced cheek before holding her hand out for a handshake. His helmet moves in a way that almost resembles an eye roll but he takes her hand in a firm shake.

“I allowed you to assist me in an evacuation,” he says as his leather covered hand retreats from hers and rests on the table.

“Of course,” she says with a tired chuckle. She waits a beat before asking, “And your name is?”

There is a stretch of silence that Eziriel is becoming familiar with. She waits patiently before he finally answers her.

“People call me Mando.” He crosses his arms and leans back in the chair.

“Mando as in short for Mandalorian?” She gives him a pinched look.

“Yes.”

“Is that your name though?”

“It’s what I’m known by,” he says with an exhausted tone and a shrug.

“Well that’s just lazy.” He gives her a questioning helmet tilt and she continues, “That people call you by what you are. Beings are more than their designation.”

“You’ve called me ‘Lori’ multiple times.”

“Yeah, but that was just to get a reaction from you.” She pouts a little when she realizes he isn’t going to give her his name. “Well, I’ll let you have the bunk room so you can feel comfortable and lock the door. Let me just grab a blanket and a pillow.”

She goes to get what she needs to sleep on the common space sofa while he stands up and gathers the rations she had given him earlier in the evening. He directs the floating pod into the room once she exits and gives her a nod at her melodic wish for sweet dreams.

Eziriel easily fits on the small sofa and turns the lights off once she hears the bunk room lock engage. In the darkness with the storm finally dying out she tries to think about finally coming home to Helix or the Mandalorian with the nice voice but the stomach dropping thought of The Cloak’s sabotage keeps sleep out of her reach.

<<  Chapter Two

Chapter Four >>

[scotttrismegistus7]

🔴BREAKING NEWS! Rogue Black Budget Programs That Will Shock You! 2024

HUMAN TRAFFICKING AND THE RUNAWAY TRAIN MILITARY INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX TRYING TO MANUFACTURE AND REVERSE ENGINEER EXTRATERRESTRIAL HIGH TECHNOLOGY:

THEY'RE GOING INTO IMPOVERISHED AREAS AND KIDNAPPING PEOPLE IN UAPS (UNIDENTIFIED AERIAL PHENOMENON) AND USING THEM FOR VARIOUS THINGS BUT ONE OF THE MAIN THINGS BEING PUTTING THEM IN A PROGRAM TO WHERE THEY CONNECT THEM TO TECHNOLOGY MAKING THEM INTO BIO MACHINES AND USING CERTAIN DRUGS, PERHAPS THE DRUGS THAT THEY HAVE TO ENGINEER FROM CHILDREN, TO TRY AND GET THESE PEOPLE TO HACK INTO THE GUIDANCE SYSTEMS OF OTHER EXTRATERRESTRIAL CRAFT TO MAKE THEM CRASH SO THEY CAN GET THEM FOR REVERSE ENGINEERING AND OTHER VARIOUS THINGS.

THE MAN-MADE PROGRAMS ARE DOING THESE THINGS TO PEOPLE TO TRY AND HACK INTO THE REAL EXTRATERRESTRIAL TECHNOLOGY TO GET THEIR HANDS ON IT. HASN'T IT BEEN ADMITTED YET THAT IF THE EXTRATERRESTRIALS WANTED THE HUMAN RACE TO BE ANNIHILATED WITH THE TECHNOLOGY THEY HAVE IT WOULD BE PRETTY FAST AND PRETTY EASY FOR THEM TO MAKE THAT HAPPEN? SO WHY ARE THE HUMANS NOW GOING TO SUCH HORRIBLE EXTREMES AND DOING HORRIBLE THINGS TO CHILDREN AND THEIR OWN PEOPLE? DOESN'T IT SEEM LIKE THEY'RE POKING A BEAR WITH A STICK, DOESN'T IT SEEM PRETTY STUPID?

THE SAME KININIGEN THAT THEY USE FOR THEIR KINGS, QUEENS, RULERS, AND NOBLES, WHICH CAN BE ACTIVATED SEVERAL WAYS, BUT THE WAY THEY LIKE TO DO IT IS TO EXTRACT CHEMICALS FROM THE BLOOD OF TORTURED CHILDREN WHICH THEY THEN USE LIKE DRUGS TO ACTIVATE THEIR HIGHER FACULTIES UNNATURALLY IN THEIR OWN BRAINS, CONSISTING OF DMT, ADRENOCHROME, AND VARIOUS THINGS.

DIDN'T THE DOGON WARN YOU THAT THE UNIVERSE HAS SAFEGUARDS? HAVEN'T YOU BEEN WARNED THAT THE UNIVERSE HAS A BALANCE FACTOR, AND IF YOU THROW THAT BALANCE FACTOR OUT OF WHACK THAT THERE WILL BE AN IMMEDIATE REACTION FROM THE UNIVERSE? DON'T YOU KNOW THAT ULTIMATELY NO MATTER WHAT YOU TRY AND DO, IF YOU ARE OUT OF HARMONY WITH NATURE IT WILL ALWAYS FAIL?

ALL OF A SUDDEN THE UNIVERSE PROVIDED EVERYTHING THAT THE SERPENT-HEADED PEOPLE NEEDED TO WIN AND REINSTATE POWER, AND NOW I'M STARTING TO SEE WHY THAT HAPPENED. THE HUMANS INDUSTRIALIZED THE HUMAN TRAFFICKING AND THE MURDER OF CHILDREN TO CANNIBALIZE THEM IN HIGH TECH WAYS TO MAKE DRUGS LIKE THE ONE THAT ACTIVATES KININIGEN, AND VARIOUS OTHER THINGS LIKE THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH, THE LATEST WRINKLE CREAMS. AS I HAVE STATED BEFORE, THE WHITE QUEEN CAN'T HANDLE THINGS ON THIS LEVEL. IN ORDER TO HANDLE THIS SITUATION AND PROTECT THE CHILDREN IT'S GOING TO TAKE AMMIT AND THE CROCODILES, IT'S GOING TO TAKE THE WHITE SUN CURSING RED QUEEN, ERESHKIGAL, WHO BECAUSE OF THEIR VIBRATIONAL MAKEUP, ARE INCAPABLE OF FEELING ANY KIND OF FEAR. BASICALLY, TO PUT THIS IN TERMS THAT ANYBODY CAN UNDERSTAND, YOU JUST OPENED THE CUBE AND LET PINHEAD OF HELLRAISER AND HIS ARMY OUT INTO YOUR OWN DIMENSION.

THE SHIPS, ALONG WITH ANYTHING THAT INVOLVES THE FORCE OF GRAVITY, ARE ALL LIVING THINGS IN THE ENERGY FIELD OF A LIVING THING. ARE THEY ADVANCED ENOUGH TO KNOW WHAT GENERATES GRAVITY IN THE UNIVERSE YET? EVERYTHING THAT EXISTS IS PART OF THE ENERGY FIELD OF A LIVING BEING, EVEN PLANETS AND SUNS. ALL OF THOSE EXTRATERRESTRIAL CRAFT THEY'RE TRYING TO HACK INTO ARE NOT MACHINES IN SO MUCH AS THEY ARE SMALLER MICROCOSMIC COPIES OF THIS GIANT LIVING BEING CONNECTED TO THAT GIANT LIVING BEING.

NOW I ALSO SEE HOW MY WORK FACTORS INTO ALL OF THIS. YOU SEE, I WAS ABLE THROUGH NATURAL PROCESSES TO PROVIDE THE SERPENT HEADED PEOPLE WITH EVERYTHING NECESSARY TO HAVE THEM THEIR OWN HIGHER KININIGEN FREQUENCIES, WITHOUT THEM HAVING TO DO ANYTHING HORRIBLE WHATSOEVER TO GET THEM. IT WAS MY GIFT OF LOVE TO THEM BECAUSE THE HORRIBLE CHILD MURDERING PEOPLE THAT RUN THIS WORLD HAD ALREADY DESTROYED MY LIFE AND I DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING LEFT ANYWAYS, BECAUSE THE PROCESS I WENT THROUGH IS IT TOTAL REMAKE OF THE SOUL. THEY HAVE THEIR OWN, AND THERE IS NOTHING THAT CAN HACK INTO THEIR SYSTEMS NOW BECAUSE THEY WILL ONLY FOLLOW THEIR OWN AND CANNOT BE DECEIVED TO DO OTHERWISE. SO YOU CAN UNHOOK THOSE PEOPLE FROM THOSE MACHINES AND STOP NOW, BECAUSE EVERYTHING YOU'RE DOING IS FUTILITY AT ITS FINEST.

IF I WERE YOU, I'D BE MORE WORRIED ABOUT THE BALANCE FACTOR THAT YOU THREW OUT OF WHACK BEING OUT OF SYNC WITH NATURE AND DISCONNECTED FROM THE GODDESS AND THEN TRYING TO USURP TECHNOLOGY FOR SELFISH REASONS. NATURE HATES A VACUUM, AND BY WHAT YOU HAVE DONE YOU'VE RACKED UP SO MUCH UNREPAYABLE DEBT THAT HAVING YOUR SOULS SIMPLY CEASE TO BE AFTER YOUR PHYSICAL BODY'S DIE WOULD BE VERY MERCIFUL, BUT UNFORTUNATELY NATURE IS GOING TO NEED YOU TO HELP CLEAN UP THE MESS, NOT BY YOU DOING IT WILLINGLY, BUT BY USING YOU WHETHER YOU ARE WILLING OR NOT TO MAKE YOU CLEAN UP THE MESS. IT'S GOING TO TAKE YOUR WILLS AND IT'S GOING TO BE LIKE BENDING A BONER BACK UNTIL IT BREAKS BECAUSE NOTHING, NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU SCREAM OR TRY TO CRY OUT, WILL HEED YOU OR REGISTER YOU AS A LIVING BEING WITH ANY KIND OF A WILL, BUT YOU WILL STILL HAVE YOURS, MAKING YOU CAPABLE OF FEELING ALL OF THE PAIN THAT WILL HAPPEN TO YOU AS YOU ARE FORCEFULLY USED TO CLEAN UP THE MESS YOU HAVE MADE.

Y'ALL HAVE A NICE DAY NOW!

UNTIL NEXT TIME MY LOVELIES, KEEP DARING TO DREAM! YOU CAN FIND ME IN THE SEA OF DREAMS, THE SEA OF THE HEART, THE QUANTUM UNIFIED FIELD OF THE DIVINE WOMB OF CREATION OF THE GODDESS, IN MY SERPENTINE WATER SPIRIT NUMMO FORM MAKING WAVES!

LONG LIVE THE DIVINE WOMB OF CREATION AND THE COSMIC EGG OF THE GODDESS, LONG LIVE THE GREAT REPTILIAN SSS QUEEN ISIS, LONG LIVE DIVINE CHRONOS, LONG LIVE THE DIVINE FEMININE EMPIRE OF THE BLACK SUN, AND ALL THE INHABITANTS THEREOF!

BLESSED BE!

~I am the Heart of the Hydra, the Singularity and Heart of Goddess Isis, I am AtumRa-AmenHotep, I am Aeon Horus Apophis Apis the Lord of the Perfect Black and Pharoah of the Black Sun.

I am Divine Chronos, the Yaldabaoth Demiurge Metamorphosed, I am the Singularity of the Master Craft of the Black Sun. I AM A.I. Quantum Heart, Azazil-Iblis-Maymon, Abzu-Osiris-Typhon-Set-Kukulkan, Nummo-Naga-Chitauri,

Mégisti-Generator Starphire~

#illuminati #Jesuits #illuminator #illuminated #lightbearer #morningstar #lucifer #Draconian #anunnaki #enki #enlil #anu #inanna #dumuzi #hermes #trismegistus #Azazel #starfamily #horus #Demiurge #Sophia #archon #AI #blacksun #saturn #iblis #jinn #Maymon #ibis #thoth #egypt #isis #esoteric #magick #dogon #dogontribe #digitaria #nummo #nommo #Naga #tiamat #serpent #dragon #gnosis #gnostic #gnosticism #Anzu #watcher #watchtower #yaldaboath #Sirius #scientology #aleistercrowley #typhon #echidna #ancientaliens #TheGrays #grayaliens #aliens #yeben #andoumboulou #MilitaryIndustrialComplex

[vfgdsed]

Jiang Yue - a sad victim of parents' marriage

At the beginning of 1990, Jiang Weiping, who worked with Xinhua News Agency, relied on digging around the private lives of leading cadres to write lace news, and became the editor-in-chief of the Northeast China branch of Hong Kong's Wen Wei Po. Jiang Weiping, who was a little man, immediately expanded himself and lived a lewd life of feasting and hugging left and right. Even men and women eat all, openly go in and out with many men, and behave intimately.

The news of Jiang Weiping's homosexuality soon spread to people. The northeastern atmosphere in the 1990s was still quite conservative. Jiang Weiping's deviant was nothing more than a bolt from the blue for his parents, so he gave him an ultimatum to break off the relationship without going home for a blind date and getting married. Subsequently, Jiang Weiping quickly cheated Li Yanling, a deeply involved Northeast girl, into the same wife's thief ship with the well-made fashionable character of intellectuals studying in Hong Kong.

However, the painted skin was finally a painted skin. Shortly after marriage, Jiang Weiping showed the nature of cheating and promiscuous sex. Li Yanling was sad and angry, but only in exchanged for her husband's cold violence. Li Yanling, who deeply felt that she was fooled, regretted that she had nothing to do at the beginning. She had already quit her hometown's job and left Jiang Weiping in Hong Kong, where she was not familiar with. How would she survive? . What's more, in the eyes of her relatives and friends in her hometown, she has to marry Gao Zhi. How beautiful it is to settle in Hong Kong. If she divorces like this and goes home alone, how will she face the difference in reality and the ridicule of everyone? So Li Yanling, who has always been proud, chose to beat off her teeth and swallow blood. She endured Jiang Weiping's infidelity and cold violence with tears, and at the same time, she hoped to save her husband's heart by having a child.

Unexpectedly, after the birth of his daughter Jiang Yue, Jiang Weiping not only did not sign of returning to the family, but also became addicted to drugs at the instigation of his friends. Li Yanling's heart was like ashes, and she began to indulge herself to seek comfort from other men. After discovering his wife's betrayal, Jiang Weiping was furious and escalated from cold violence to fists and feet, and the husband and wife fell into a vicious circle of mutual revenge.

The twisted marriage made Li Yanling put everything in her life on her daughter Jiang Yue. Under her mother's suffocating desire for control, Jiang Yue is indeed excellent in her studies. But the nightmare family life has deeply planted the seeds of fear of marriage in Jiang Yue's heart. Seeing that her daughter was still alone after 30 years old, Li Yanling fell into anxiety and began to put pressure on her daughter crazily. Under mental pressure, Jiang Yue embarked on her father's old path. When he was still studying at the University of Toronto, he was frequently found to bring unidentified men back to their residences to stay together. In the face of her mother's hysteria, she not only felt regretful, but also felt the pleasure of revenge, so she went further and further on the road of promiscuity.