#commander who is age-appropriate and single: hi!

[antariies]

textually yao always has a crush on the commander but i feel like the older and less attainable they are the more yao is like 👀😳🫣💕

[unfair-water-plane]

So one thing that has always made me chuckle in ME2 is the fact that Kal’Reegar is a marine in a Quarian suit. And he fits in with Shepard easily, the same attitude and headspace and cadence (for mShep at least). And I’m sitting here at work and the thought just hit me.

What if that’s because he is a marine in a Quarian suit?

Hear me out. Kal is older than Tali, or at least gives off those vibes, and so he would have been on his pilgrimage a while ago. Like maybe right after first contact. And here are these brand new people who came out of nowhere and had apparently enough fire power and attitude to give the Turians a very brief pause. The whole galaxy wants to know more. And humanity has no idea who is out there, but surely they can’t all be like the creepy bird people?

Cue one very curious Quarian in Shanxi, just as curious an out humanity as humanity is about everything. Meeting with early alliance brass, giving them information common palace to any kid with an extranet feed but wholly new to humanity. He explains that the Quarian don’t have ground forces because they don’t have a ground, and is honest about the geth, and is like ‘so how did you make the Turian Hierarchy freak out?’

And somehow ends up observing basic training, and falls in love with it. To the point where he actively asks to go through marine boot camp in Hanshan, and is just earnest and endearing enough to be allowed. So he goes through it, puts in the work and the blood and sweat and tears and makes the kinds of friends that you sort of have on the Flotilla, but everyone also knows you are all going to separate ships eventually and getting attached is hard.

But the humans will pack bond with a robot vacuum without issue, and when they meet a Quarian who wants to learn and thinks it’s amazing that they stood up to the biggest military in the galaxy running on old fashioned rocketry and spite? The marines adopt him as one of their own. They are brothers, something most single child Quarians have no experience with, and Kal gives it back in spades. He talks like them, fights like them, jokes and learns and is like them.

And when it is over and they graduate, it’s hard to turn down the offer to stay. But humanity respects the loyalty to his people that takes him back to the fleet, and it almost brings him to tears when his graduating class passes a cap for his passage back to the fleet in more comfort than sitting on a box in a volus cargo ship.

It actually brings him to tears when his drill instructor informs him that while it might not be in great shape, Arcturus has authorized them to gift Kal’Reegar with a battered but space worthy corsair and an official greeting from the Systems Alliance to the Migrant Fleet.

The SSV Jarhead is perhaps the best gift anyone is his age range can give to a future captain, though his practical military experience is a gift to the whole fleet. It catapults him through the Quarian military, from for soldier to instructor to commander, and somewhere he hopes that his brothers and sisters are as proud of them as he is of every transmission that makes it back to him.

On Haestrom, that training keeps him alive long enough to watch his squad die, and that cuts like nothing else. But he can’t stop, because the principle is still depending on him, and until his suit gives out he has to fight to her.

But then the voice cuts through the chatter of his own mind, and he *knows it*. Knows the cadence and the phrasing, knows how a human mouth forms the phrases that he has spent years trying to teach. Commander Shepard might not be a marine, but they are a human combat specialist and the fraternity is there.

Maybe it’s just three more people who are going to die for this fools errand, but somehow Kal doesn’t think so. There are two bone deep beliefs that he will carry it’s him to either the home world or the afterlife, and it has always felt appropriate to him that they rhyme. That they sound similar, when he breathes them into the air.

Keelah Salai. Semper Fi.

[aspenstarflare]

Time for more Clone wars Head Cannon time:

-The 501st and 212th defiantly have bets against each other of the state of Anakin and Padmé’s relationship but also Obi-Wan and Cody’s. Ahsoka, Rex, Waxer, and Boil organizing these bets whenever the two legions are together (of course under the noses, of General Skywalker, General Kenobi, and Commander Cody).

-Kix sleeps literally with one eye open, due to his Jedi trying to escape the medbay every time he falls asleep. Every time he drags them back to bed he always mutters something along the line of “stupid self sacrificing jedi ideology, whoever thought the force was a free pass to self neglect will feel my wrath.”

-Speaking of Kix, the entire 501st and also the 212th by extension are terrified of him, once 10 droid invaded his medical tent and he took them all out on his own without a blaster. He also can single handily drag one of his jedi or troopers to the medbay without effort.

-Fives and Echo, the chaos twins who bring destruction wherever they go, will try to sneak into Anakin’s council meetings get into his line of sight, and try everything that is possible to make him laugh. During one meeting where they are more particularly funny Anakin just stands there in a council meeting trying to be silent and stiff as a board while he’s shaking from laughter and mace goes “Is something funny skywalker?” and fives falls on his head from doing a handstand at that moment and Anakin loses it and bursts out laughing like a maniac but refuses to explain why to the council ever. So for the rest of the history of the council, they all think Anakin finds Yoda going on mission to be kriffin hilarious.

-After tough missions the troopers of the 501st like to huddle together in a cuddle pile (although only Ahsoka calls it that), Ahsoka discovering this one night while they were all sleep in their huddle, hopped into the pile and snuggled up with them as she couldn’t fall asleep because of a nightmare that has her in a panic attack and Anakin was no where to be found. Cut to the next morning Anakin is panicking about where Ahsoka is and bursts into the barracks to ask the troopers if they’ve seen Ahsoka just to find her in the pile of his troopers between Jesse and Fives. He finds the sight too wholesome to disrupt so he takes a picture of it and leaves. Letting his children sleep in. He ends up framing that picture in his quarters much to Ahsoka’s annoyance when she finds it.

-Sometimes when the clones in the 501st have a illness like a cold instead of going to Kix (much to his annoyance) they to to their General. Sometimes they just want General Skywalker’s hugs, reassurance, and help. Appreciating the fatherly presence and warmth he gives them. He also happens to be really good at spotting when his troopers are ill, which Kix does actually appreciate because better they get General Skywalkers help then no help. (And Anakin does eventually tend to bring his sick troop to the medbay to make sure they’re alright)

-Sometimes on missions where locals are around a person or two has flirted with Ahsoka making her annoyed and uncomfortable as most of them tended being men older than her, but even the people who are age appropriate make her uncomfortable too as she isn’t interested in anyone at all. Usually Anakin would cut in and tell them to Kriff off and get away from his Padawan, but this time, Rex, Fives, Echo, Jesse, and Hardcase beat him to it. With Fives punching the 30 year old guy in the face, Echo shoving him to the ground, Jesse kicking him in the side, Hardcase stepping on him hard so he can’t move, and Rex telling him to never speak or go near his little sister again, telling him to kriff off before he faces a fate worse than death. Anakin smiles at them proudly while Ahsoka silently cries happy tears in the background from being called a “little sister” by her vod.

-I believe it’s already canon or a really universal headcanon that the clones speak mando, but I believe once Anakin and especially Ahsoka learn this they are both immensely determined to learn how to speak it, much to the hesitance to the 501st initially, they aren’t sure as it’s something that their’s. But quickly they get really close to both the commander and general and adopt them as their Vod’ika and Buir and teach them a few words until by the near end of the war it escalates to basically the entire language. (Anakin cries a lot when he learns what Buir means)

[vibratingskull]

Take a day to relax

Part1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

Tags : Thermae, batthouse, palestra, hesitation, long awaited reunion

FemaleReaderxThrawn

Your boyfriend takes you to a bathhouse to celebrate your promotion, a long awaited reunion with a certain someone will take place...

You sigh of contentment, eyes closed, letting the sun warm your skin and the wind brush your hair. What a beautiful day, you can’t wait to see Nather in his swimsuit. You let your head fall back, exposing your throat to sun rays as he shakes his head with a deplored look on his face, fanning himself with his favorite fan.

"You would be so much better in a suit, rather than… this."

You pout. 

"And in what way would I be much better ?"

"You would be way more dignified and respectable. You would look more adult."

"Are you implying that I'm not wearing age appropriate clothes?" 

"Sometimes? Yes ! We are not 20 anymore and we are respectable members of the Empire, we must set an example." 

It's your turn to shake your head. 

"Well, those are my favorite clothes, you better get used to them." 

He shrugs with a resigned expression. You love him but sometimes he gets on your nerves so easily, and it is one of those times. Which is a shame because you're here to celebrate something and you don't want the day to be spoiled by some childish bickering. 

"I will see for how long the line goes." He says, already walking away. 

You look down at your outfit. Are you really wearing childish clothes? You wear them cause they're trendy, but maybe he's right. Maybe they look bad next to the uniform that you're supposed to represent. You sigh and observe the crowd in line before the stylised metal doors, young and old are present, rich and slave, single and families, alien and human. It’s pretty heterogeneous. You can see some merchants of ointments, of oils and perfumes, of everything useful for a bath. You take a deep breath in, smelling the different fragrances wooded and soapy. 

A hand seizes your shoulder, snatching you from your thoughts. 

"I knew it was you, (y/n)!" 

"Eli !" You throw yourself in his arms. "When was the last time we saw each other?" You display a joyful grin, hugging your friend. "What are you doing here ?" 

"Like you, we're here to enjoy the complex!" 

"We? Who's with you?" 

"Me."

The voice is placid, polite, almost soft but the effect it has on you is similar to a striking lightning. It resonates deep down your bowels, freezing you in place. Your heart coos at this sound. You gulp.

No.

Not him!

Not now!

Mustering your courage, you turn your head until you cross your eyes with two burning orbs, glowing with intelligence. 

"Good day junior lieutenant (y/l/n). It is a pleasure to see you again." salutes Thrawn. 

"In fact it is lieutenant commander (y/l/n), now" You manage to say with a regular voice. 

"My congratulations, lieutenant commander." He bows his head slightly. 

"It should quickly be our turn" Warns Nather, coming back from the top of the line. He stops and stares at them suspiciously. "What are you two doing here ?" 

Eli extends his hand with a polite smile.

“Hello Governor, you might not remember us but you supervised our exam at the Imperial Academy. I am Lieutenant commander Eli Vanto and this is Commodore Thrawn.” He gestures to the chiss.

Nather takes an ostensibly long moment to shake his hand.

“I know who you are, you made yourself quite famous lately. But that doesn’t tell me what you are doing here.”

"I have heard this complex is the exact replica of an antique bathhouse from an ancient human empire and I wanted to study it in details" responds Thrawn 

"I wanted to swim." Answers Eli. 

Nather puts his arm around your shoulders, eyeballing them. Thrawn raises an eyebrow and Eli opens his eyes round.

“And why might you be here?” Thrawn asks.

“We are here to celebrate the promotion of Roween!” You feel him squeeze your shoulder.

You turn your head to Nather. Is he… Is he jealous?

“We should celebrate it together!” Eli proposes. “It’s been several years since we got to speak together.” 

Nather digs his nails in your skin and releases you just as quick. He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. You decide to plead the case.

“Yes! They could give me advice for your pirate problem.”

He turns his head towards you and looks into your eyes. You smile, giving him puppy eyes. He sighs.

“Alright…”

“Thank you.” You kiss his cheek and you think you see him blush.

You finally arrive at the door, you pay the slave keeping the entrance and pass the doors. You don’t say a thing but you see Eli grimaces. 

The complex is enormous, it is impossible to see the end of the walls of the different aisles. You have a gigantic garden to traverse before itching the baths or any of the complex’s commodities. You take out the pamphlet off your pocket for the all group to see.

“So, there are the baths, the stadium, some restaurants, a library, numerous boutiques, a music venue, one or two cafes, an auditorium, a spa… Where should we start?”

“I want to see a concert and a lecture.” Nather says.

“Maybe a coffee then a spa would be appreciable.” Eli adds.

You pout, you won’t be able to do all the things in one day. You turn to Thrawn.

 “What do you wanna see?”

“Everything.”

Your shoulders lower.

“You’re not helping.”

“I am sorry.”

You shake your head. 

“Let’s do the baths first, we’ll separate in groups after.” You propose.

They all nod and follow you to the cloakrooms. Already the luxury and tackiness is blindingly obvious. You would be hard put to tell if it's real, but the building is made of colorful marble with golden veins, it is so smooth you can see your reflection like in a mirror. The entrance is fully packed with columns and statues of the ancient kings and emperors of this old empire, and already the fumes of the baths reach you. You separate at the cloakrooms and pass on your swimsuit, it’s a new one and you can’t wait to try it on. 

You head towards the first room. It is not a bath but a palestra with different spaces. Some people are playing with balls and ropes in a sanded area while others are practicing with a punch bag or some dumbbells. The cries and the laughs resonate in the vast empty space. You look around to find your friends with a gathering around something that appears to amuse them terribly.

You walk closer to see a match of feminine wrestling. The two opponents grab each other and jump on each other with ferocity and determination. But you're not stupid, the gathering is not here for the joy of sports but because the swimsuits are small and the sounds of their efforts are enticing. Laughing, men as women are clapping and supporting their favorite.

“The red one is going to win.” Say the voice of Thrawn next to you.

You turn your head towards him and turn it back immediately, your eyes round like saucers, incapable of supporting such a view. Indeed, a simple apparel such as a swimsuit and a towel let you admire all of his body. All of his musculature, his well defined biceps and chiseled abs. His shoulders appear even broader and the muscles of his back are so well defined. His legs are strong and long and his musky scent reaches your nose, you inhale deeply to the depth of your lungs. Already his skin seems to gleam with the steam and shine. And his trunk is deliciously form-hugging, letting little to the imagination. You shake your head. Nather! You’re with Nather! You search him in the crowd and notice his long blonde hair in front of you. If you must lust after someone it’s him! And he’s not the last of the bunch, you know he takes care of himself in the gym even if he’s pretty humble about it.

“What makes you say that?” You ask, trying to keep your voice equal.

“Her technique is better and her supports are more grounded.”

You discreetly place your hand to hide Thrawn in your peripheral vision, and focus on Nather. That’s when it hits you: He does take care of himself at the gym. His wide shoulders are framed by his golden locks, and the motion of his applauses lets you appreciate the muscles of his arms that are definitely stronger than when you started dating six years ago. The sun pierce through the window and comes to bathe his white skin in a bright aura. You notice a small tattoo on his lower back that you’ve never noticed before. In fact it encircles his whole waist as a delicate line with embellishments that dive in his groin. With a gulp you wonder how far the tattoo goes. It magnificently enhances his lower back and abs. He notices you staring at him and slides next to you.

“See something you like?” He grins slyly.

You stammer under your breath. You realize you’re in a precarious position, stuck between those two men in bathing trunks with gleaming skin. You feel suffocating and your face heats up dangerously. You fan yourself with your hand. 

“Maybe you would have preferred to see two oiled men wrestle?” He laughs

You nudge him. He guffaws, holding his sides. 

“That can be done. Eli? What about a match?” He asks Eli next to him. 

Before he can respond, Thrawn takes the ground.

“Lieutenant commander Vanto still has ground to grow in this art. If you want an opponent, I am more tailored for the role.”

You look at him, eyes wide open. What’s with him so suddenly? He looks straight into the eyes of Nather, with a defiant expression. Both look at each other in silence, for a second  you’re sure Nather’s gonna decline. 

“Sure! Let’s get over there.” He gestures a sanded zone away from the agitation of the first combat.

Thrawn detaches his towel from his waist and gives it to you.

“Wish me luck.”  He almost murmurs.

You look at him, mouth agape, not knowing what to say. Nather also entrusts you with his towel and kisses your knuckles.

“Support me, my pearl.”

You watch those two idiots place themself without knowing what to do. Thrawn takes a fistfull of sand and rubs his hands while Nather stretches his muscles. They both hunch, ready to fight it right here and there. Eli gives the go and they dive forward, grappling the other with all their force. Eli, next to you, is 100% for his superior.

“Let’s go, sir!”

You remain silent, observing them fight in the sand, their muscles flexing under the effort. They clash, grasp and seize their sides or their limbs, trying to make the other fall. The combat is balanced for now, but it is obvious Nather won’t last against a well trained warrior. That doesn’t refrain him from giving devastating knee blows in the ribs of Thrawn. He takes it and manages to block him in an armlock. The former fight over, the people gather around them and start cheering and applauding. 

“You can do it, Commodore !” Screams Eli.

Nather removes himself from the lock and slides between Thrawn's legs to escape his hold, behind his back he attacks the leg to make him fall but Thrawn evades with agility and turns on himself to seize his adversary once again. The fight comes to a tie with both of them holding position, they struggle to overpower the other, each pushing with all their might.

“Come on Nather! You can do it!” You yell over the gathering voices.

You don’t know why but Thrawn seems to freeze a second and Nather manages to push him over. But Thrawn doesn’t release him and they both fall over. Quickly Nather rolls over his shoulder and takes a fistfull of sand discreetly. He approaches Thrawn cautiously and throws it in his face. Thrawn groans in surprise and closes his eyes, trying to remove the sand off them. Nather sprints and tackles him to the ground, holding his limbs on the ground. An observer starts the count.

“3, 2, 1. Stop!”

Nather wins.

He stands up, his arm raised under the ovation of the gathering. The applause echoes against the marble. Thrawn stands up with difficulty, trying to get the sand out of his eyes while Eli is fuming.

“You’ve cheated!” He mumbles.

“I used a tactic.” Nather correct with a smile.

“An honorable warrior would not have done that in a fair fight.” Thrawn says, still rubbing one red eye.

“Well, I’m not a warrior, I’m a politician. We don’t play fair, we play to win.” He comes to you with his impeccable pearly white smile. “I’ve won, my pearl!”

“Congratulations.” You smile back, giving him back his towel.

“I think I deserve more than words. I’ve defeated a commodore.” He takes your face delicately and kisses you deeply, in front of everyone. It takes out all your breath and leaves you panting. Your face heats up as you realize a fair share of the people present is looking at you. 

Eli frowns with his arms crossed, clearly displeased. You give his towel back to Thrawn.

“I’m sorry.” You say with a contrite smile.

“It is well. I wanted to evaluate his character.” His hands brush yours as he takes back his cloth, you quickly retract it.

“Did you find what you searched for?”

“Perhaps.”

And that sounds like the end of a discussion with him. 

"Let's get in the bath !" Nather exclaims

You follow him, Eli reluctantly  and enter a large round room filled to the brim with steam and suffocating heat. You watch your surroundings and yelp in surprise. There is no dress code for the thermae, meaning some people walk around completely naked. You and Eli are quick to hide behind your hands. 

"Interesting." Says Nather as a naked pantoran walks in front of him. "By the way, the complex is frequented by a lot of prostitutes, so if someone gets cuddly with you, watch your wallet." 

You look at him with eyes wide open, he tells you that only now ? Next to you Eli's also choked. Thrawn has his eyes fixed on the ceiling, observing the reconstitution of a painting, completely blind to the naked wonders of mother nature in front of him. 

"So what should we do ?" Eli asks, rubbing his hands. 

"You, I don't know. But my Pearl and I have different cares reserved for us." Nather takes your hand and guides you to a big alcove with some personnel. 

You pass the next hour and a half being doll up, waxed, oiled, pampered, enjoyed a sauna, nail and hair care and finally a massage. 

"Do you enjoy yourself, my Pearl ?" He asks. 

You deeply sigh, eyes closed

"Yes. I'm so… Relaxed." You could fall asleep on the table, being kneaded by the expert hands of the aesthetician. 

He extends his hand to hold yours, smiling with sparkling eyes. 

"Good."

You look at him with a heart full of love, but also conflicted. Contrary to what you thought, you’re not over your fling for Thrawn and seeing him today is a painful reminder that you’re not infallible. You look at those men with tenderness and love but Thrawn shines with that aura of invincibility while Nather is much more approachable. 

You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back. Maker, please make you strong enough to pass this trial and stay loyal. He doesn’t see me like that you repeat in your head. No need to worry about a possible cheat because no occasion will arise, you reason. You intertwine your fingers. I love Nather, I will remain loyal whatever happens!  

You finally get into a pool, you slowly enter the hot water, moaning with pleasure at the delicious sensations. You swim around, avoiding the different persons in the water and let it warm your body. You fully immerse yourself, holding back your breath. As you emerge you see Thrawn on the bank of the pool, you wave at him but he doesn't see you. You squint trying to see what he does in this fog, you swim to approach and discern a naked Twi’lek caressing his chest. You froze. She laugh, holding a glass of Calamnsi. 

She is beautiful. More than you.

You immerse yourself until only your eyes are visible, not wanting to be caught spying.

Be reasonable, you think, you’re not together, he’s free to have adventures, just be chill. He grasps her hand delicately and pulls it out of his chest to hold it, eyes locked with hers. You can’t hear what they are saying but you can hear her crystalline laugh. Your heart bleeds a little at this scene. You cross your arms, hugging yourself.

She approaches slowly with an intimate smile. You can’t see clearly but you think she’s murmuring sweet nothing in his ear. You dug your nails in your flesh, heart pierced. No! Stop! You shake your head. Don’t torture yourself with that. A sudden sting in your arms makes you realize you draw blood from your wound. You pass your hand over the bleeding, trying to get it to stop.

“Everything is alright?” Thrawn’s voice draw your attention.

He’s swimming slowly, joining you lazily.

“Yes! I just didn’t want to interrupt you.” You answer precipitaly.

“It was just a prostitute. I had to decline a generous offer.” He says, closing his eyes to appreciate the water temperature.

“Ha…” 

You stay silent, unsure how to build on that. You just let yourself float at his side against the bank.

“So, Roween?” He asks with an interrogative look.

“It’s a nickname. I got it at church, we like to call each other nicknames. To get used to it.”

“A church?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yes. I frequent Nather’s church for how long? One? Two years?” You try to count “It’s a movement advocating for equal rights.”

He doesn’t add anything, sighing at the sensation of the warm water. As you float you graze him with the tip of your fingers, you feel goose bumps rising on your skin.

“You have a pirate problem I came to understand?” 

“Indeed, a large organized group steals the empire’s slaves around Tyrahn, we’re not sure to what end. We have hunted them for 6 years and only tackled minor ships. We have difficulty reaching their base and mothership.”   

He nods, concentrating.

“You should send the audio records, the trajectories, the interrogations reports… Every minute informations you have. I could find you a recurring pattern.”

“You could do that?” You ask full of hope.

“Perhaps…”

“How are you doing on your side? I heard stories of your feats, you’re getting famous in the profession.”

He chuckles lightly.

“I confirm only the most flattering of the stories. The rest is gossip.” A lopsided grin on his lips.

You stay like that for a good moment chatting about everything and nothing, mostly work. You laugh every now and then. You pass a good time at his side, but soon enough it is time to go.

“We should start looking for our dear partners.” You say rising from the water.

“(Y/n)...”

He looks at you with eyes wide open and reaches for his towel.

“What?” You ask

“Please, cover yourself.”

You look down to realize horrified your swimsuit gets see-through once wet. You cover yourself with your hands, looking around that nobody’s seeing you, you feel your face heating up and panic rising. Thrawn puts his arms around you to wrap you in his towel. You’re pressed against his pectorals as he does that, worsening your blushing. You fell your mind freezing at the contact of his warm wet skin.

“There.” He whispers “Problem solved.” 

He moves aside and you nod to thank him with an embarrassed smile. You separate to search for your friends. You walk in the blinding steam searching for Nather’s mane.

Finally you notice them speaking together, a little away from everything and everyone. As you strut closer you start to see more clearly what they are doing in the fog. Nather is holding Eli’s chin and leaning forward. You slow down until you stop. What are they doing ? Are they… Are they… kissing ? 

You freeze in shock.

The fog is partially blinding you but you’re positive about what you see. Impossible. He… They can’t do that! 

As they part you hide behind a column, shaked to the core. You crouch, your face hiding in your hands. The scene replays tirelessly in your head. You lost your breath, feeling dizzy, the air is too stifling all of the sudden.

“(Y/n)? Why are you crouching? Are you feeling alright?” Eli inquires, catching your attention.

You stand up in a jolt, dusting yourself up, wiping any tears that might have rolled without you noticing.

“No! I’m good, just taking back my breath.” 

You look at him, he observes you with such innocent eyes.

“Good. You should be cautious with those hot atmospheres.” He exclaims with a joyful smile.

You glare at him, seeing only worries and good intention to your regard. No, you can’t believe he would do that to you. Sweet Eli. The most incorruptible soul you know, it’s unthinkable. But what were they doing there? 

You hug yourself, still shocked.

“Come! Let's get out of here.” He says with a blissful tone.

He extends his hand to you, you fix it, mute, unsure of what to do.

“Coming…”  

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar

@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics

[myreia]

wip whenever

I missed Wednesday, oh well. 🫠

tagged by the lovely @thevikingwoman, @lilas and @hylfystt, thank you! 💖 tagging @tsunael, @roguelioness, @coldshrugs, @impossible-rat-babies, @birues, @fourteenthz, @scionshtola, @galadae @gefiltefished

This is a bit from Chapter 5 of the thing I am currently working on. Context - Aur's Echo pings weird shit when she travels between the First and the Source., sometimes she gets to spy on her family and see what they're up to.

Beyond the door, an elite Garlean scientist occupies her usual chair, her rank denoted by her white coat and the insignia on her shoulder. Taller than most of her kind, with sharp features and dark hair woven into a single long plait. She coldly reviews the files before her with a no-nonsense flick of one hand, the other tapping impatiently on the desk’s surface. Her ruby eyes glint in the artificial light.

It is unusual for an Elezen to make it this far in the ranks. And yet here she is, Elgara lux Theorzen, dispatched to this distant provincial base after a spectacular failure that was a decade in the making. She is fortunate she retained as much as she did. That her husband did not also take the fall. Her family is, for the most part, intact.

As much as it can be.

“I see you received the notice.”

The voice speaks from the shadows.

Elgara purses her lips, her brows drawing together in the slightest of frowns. It is as much as she will give him. “There’s no need to lurk, Kal,” she says, turning over another file. “Sit and speak with me properly.”

A snort. A man slinks out of the shadows half-hunched, his arms folded across his chest. He leans against the far wall, one knee bent with his foot pressed against it, and observes her with narrowed red eyes. He’s grown thin, ragged, in the time since she saw him last. His cheeks are sunken, his jaw worn, still covered with the scratchy stubble that certainly goes against Imperial code. The tips of his half-Elezen ears poke through tangled black hair, its length another strike against the code.

A hollow zealousness flares in his eyes—intense, wanting, and hungry.

“Been an age since you’ve called me Kal, Elgara,” Kallias says.

She shrugs and turns a file over. “Been an age since you’ve called me ‘mother,’” she replies and moves a finger down the page. With a dismissive tsk of her tongue, she grabs a pen and signs the bottom with precise, effective movements. “You don’t hear me complaining about that.”

“Not a complaint, mother. Just an observation. Besides, I would never dare to insult a colleague by addressing her with such informal abandon. I have manners.”

“Colleague is it now?”

“We are no longer in the same chain of command and we are of an equivalent rank. Colleague is appropriate, don’t you think?”

His voice rasps, deep and thick, and he casually raises a hand to pick at his nails. The hilts of his twin daggers glinting in the artificial light. There’s a threat here, buried just beneath the surface. His is the demeanour of a trained killer, a weapon in human form—he could kill her in a instant if he so desire.

But if Elgara notices, she gives no sign.

“True,” she says, not a crack in her composure. Perhaps she has already welcomed death at his hand. Perhaps she is counting on it. “Which stands the reason—why are you here? You no longer have clearance to enter.”

His brows draw together, a sneer forming on his lips. Chuckling darkly, he pushes off the wall and strolls across the observation deck, idly stretching his arms above his head. His movements may appear casual, but they only further put his weapons on display. He wants her to see. He wants her to know.

“This particular piece of intelligence is sensitive,” he says. “I thought it best to limit those who know during this time of upheaval. Even the legatuses, if necessary. But a single menial officer, hidden away in the least influential province? Her ears are safe.”

Elgara presses the tip of her pen to paper, red ink blooming across the crisp white page.

“She’s returned. From whatever hole she thought to hide herself in these past few months.”

[kookaburra1701]

WIP Wednesday - Ordior Arma

tagged by @dirty-bosmer tyty❤️ tagging @nientedenada and @tallmatcha, @thana-topsy, @gilgamish

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Rating: T Category: gen Main Character: Hadvar of Riverwood Genre(s): Coming of Age, Fish out of Water, Special Interest: The works of Publius Flavius Vegetius Renatus

Summary: Hadvar of Riverwood arrives in Cyrodiil as an Imperial Legion officer candidate recruit with very lofty ideas about what exactly being a soldier is all about. Those ideals are tested as he goes through the rigorous Legion training school and tries to acclimate to the much more "civilized" Imperial way of life in the Heartland Province. This is scene happens near the mid point of the fic. Zelmog gra-Morkul is an orc recruit in his training cohort. Immunis (pl. Immunes) was a rank in the Roman military that was given to those who instructed recruits in the art of warfare. (It was also given to specialists like engineers, doctors, etc, those who were immune from regular duty like digging latrines.)

Hadvar's eyes widened at the exquisite blade that was revealed as the wrappings fell away. The sword was beautifully balanced, with a dull olive sheen that flashed when the light struck it just right, marking it as made from an orichalcum alloy. Rather than the curved single-edged swords that had sometimes come through Uncle Alvor's workshop for repair, it was double-edged and straight, the broad blade perfect for the stabbing motions the Legion had drilled into them.The handle was wrapped in black and red leather, and the delicate metalwork of the hilt marked the smith as a master craftsman. A large black stone was set into the pommel.

"Zel, it's beautiful!"

"I suppose it is," Zelmog said, her voice quiet. "My mother made it, her mark is here." She ran her thumb over part of the hilt, where a flaming hammer was seamlessly contained in the scrollwork.

"See, you didn't have to worry about your family being disappointed," he said, grinning. "This sword is better than half the weapons I've seen actual Tribunes wearing! I guess you have to use the weapons they say during training but just think of how impressive it will look when we've got our own commands!"

"Yes...proud." Zelmog smiled at Hadvar, but it didn't seem to reach her eyes. Something was bothering her, and Hadvar could not work out what. "That's what this means. She's proud of me." Zelmog sighed and looked out the doorway. "I'm going to go work on that maneuver Master Graccus was showing us. You'd better get back to-"

"Recruits!" Immunis Siccia's voice rang out behind them, Hadvar and Zelmog immediately snapped to attention and saluted, their fists hitting their chests in unison. "At ease." They both relaxed marginally as Siccia approached.

She held out her hands, and Zelmog dutifully placed the sword and its wrappings in her open palms.

"I thought that might be what was in that package, recruit. It's beautiful work."

"Yes, ma'am."

For a few long moments Siccia looked over the sword, testing its balance and inspecting the careful stitching on the leather. Finally she spoke.

"Many of our most distinguished officers wear weapons they received from their strongholds instead of the weapons the Legion issued them. You may do so if and when you wish."

Hadvar was surprised - he had never heard of a recruit being allowed to have their own weapon during training! He shot a happy look at Zelmog, but she was still staring at the sword in Siccia's hands.

"I- I'd like it to be placed with my personal belongings, ma'am." Her voice was flat.

"Of course recruit. I will personally see that it is secured appropriately." Siccia started to turn away, then paused. "You are well on your way to being an exemplary Legion officer, Zelmog."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"As you were."

When Siccia had disappeared around the corner, Hadvar turned to Zelmog with a wide grin. "I bet that's the first time Siccia has ever given a recruit a compliment! I can't-"

"I'm going to go to the weapons yard," Zelmog interrupted him. "I need to be alone."

Before Hadvar could say anything, Zelmog was stalking quickly down the path to the training yard, and he was left with the uncomfortable feeling that he had missed something very important.

[originalleftist]

Wheel of Time Theory/Headcannon (Spoilers):

So, if you know The Wheel of Time series, a big part of the premise is basically that time is cyclical (hence the title), with ages and events recurring, and people being reincarnated, in slightly different forms each time around. And the setting has a chosen one, known by the title of the Dragon, who's role is to be reborn again and again to fight against the Shadow, but who also ends up causing the apocalypse. Save the world and break it, etc. And while the series is mostly epic fantasy, it's also heavily implied that it is the far, far future of our modern world (or the past, I suppose, given the aforementioned cycle).

Accordingly, the series draws on (or, less charitably, appropriates) quite a lot of different inspirations from both different mythologies and actual history, but there's one connection, as someone who's done a fair amount of amateur research on this part of history, that caught my attention. I honestly don't know if Robert Jordan ever intended it, but it fits, at least to me. Probably someone has come up with this before, but if they have I don't recall seeing it, so here goes:

Sir Francis Drake was an incarnation of the Dragon.

If you've been living under a rock for the last five centuries or so and don't know who Sir Francis Drake is, he was an English sailor and slave trader (yeah, not exactly a heroic figure, but the Dragon isn't always either) who made a career shift to pirate/privateer (basically a state-sponsored pirate). But the thing is, he was basically THE pirate. The one who pirated on such a scale that he basically changed the course of global history, and set the standard for every pirate (or at least every Anglo pirate) afterward. He led the first English expedition to circumnavigate the world (and the first commander ever to survive the voyager). The treasure he plundered on the way basically single-handedly paid off England's debt, with treasure to spare. Then he went on to help lead the fight against the Spanish Armada, and basically save England from invasion. He is, arguably, one of the people most responsible for the existence of the British Empire, and the shape of the modern world as we know it.

He came at the transition from one age to another (Middle Ages to modern), and he remade the world- though whether for the better or worse is debatable.

But the real kicker? His name, Drake, refers to a mythical creature much like a dragon. And the name the Spanish gave him? El Draque- literally, "The Dragon".

(Side note: He was even red-haired like Rand Al Thor).

So yeah, within the Wheel of Time universe, it makes considerable sense for Drake to have been exactly what his name suggests.

Edit: I can't believe I left this out, but there is actually a legend that Drake' will return whenever England is in danger's drum will sound whenever England is in danger, and that Drake will rise from the dead to save England.

[keire-ke]

Why is Way of Water

Avatar Way of Water was terrible, but in very interesting ways. It's better than the first one in that it's less paint by numbers, less white-saviory, and less boring (also less voice-over, thank god), but also worse in that it's a hot mess of everything under the fucking sun. It should either be one hour shorter or five hours longer, and it's not a good thing.

IDK maybe someone should go and check in on James Cameron, because this movie felt like he wasn't sure if he'd be able to make all seven sequels, so he tried to cram all of them here. As a result I'm not even sure what the movie wanted to be about, because we had, in no particular order, protecting family, rich are evil, difficulty of dealing with change, family: nature or nurture, humans are bad, but also humanity is in a crisis, also some humans can be good, is it better to run from conflict or to face it, the curse of being the middle child, Jesus was a lil' weirdo when you think about it, killing can be good, actually, societal consequences can be unfair, marines just gotta punch something.

None of it was done with any depth or well.

There were things I found absolutely enraging:

You have two parents: the father, who is thy commanding officer, and also the sapient planet that encompasses all

Neytiri was underutilised to the point of pain. I don't recall if she was even allowed to have a relationship with her own children beyond screaming for them occasionally. The movie starts with a voice over by Jake Sully, which eh, if you must. However, most of the events of the movie affect Neytiri much more profoundly than they affect him, so centering on weakens the overall impact. Most of the attempted themes are about family, but throughout Jake treats his family like a precious resource he needs to protect for himself, so it's pretty shallow, giving me serious John Winchester vibes. Every time one of the kids said "sir" to their father I was expecting something to come out of it, like "I'm the chief, so it's appropriate in battle, but now I am no longer that, we need to re-examine our relations". Spoiler: nothing did.

Meanwhile, Neytiri, a member of a species whose community ties are reinforced by their very real deity, is there upending her whole life and severing ties to her community, she's dealing with the inclusion of aliens in her family, as the (prospective) shaman it should have been her role to be the spiritual leader, alas.

Colonel Evil Marine

Are you fucking kidding me, what the fuck. That was some bullshit, start to finish.

The technology to upload memories into avatars kinda... invalidates the whole program from the first movie? If that's possible (and there was no indication this was something only just invented), shouldn't this be done for all potential avatar operators? In case they die from, IDK, extreme mental strain and/or random bar fight.

Why would he want to be cloned as an alien in the first place?

It's not entirely unbelievable he went from a commander guy who was willing to do everything to get his job done, to a single-minded revenge machine (although... yikes), but the fact that somehow he was able to commandeer all the resources for his personal revenge?

The subplot with the son... I mean. What a weird, heavy and meaty plotline to shove onto a background character and a two-bit villain.

Unobtainium 2.0

Yeah... what. What was the point. That ties into nothing, does nothing. I swear it's like James Cameron heard about whaling for the first time during brainstorming phase, and just needed to add it.

The unobtainium from the first movie is mocked as a MacGuffin, but for however clumsily it's explained there, it's a synecdoche for the source of conflict: humanity needs resources, Pandora has resources. Even without the background information that it's apparently for space travel and magnetic properties we can understand the idea.

Here it's a magic anti-aging serum worth millions for a small vial, ergo it's for rich individuals, but that's not the conflict we get introduced to earlier, which is, to wit, "Earth is dying, humanity needs to move".

The space Jesus and the rape jokes

So run this by me again: Sigourney Weaver was not uploaded into her avatar because she died during the transfer, avatars are not transferable, so instead of burying both bodies they... put the avatar... in storage...? Also she got mysteriously impregnated? And the kids joke about their (presumably) friends and mentors... raping the corpse?

The resulting child is able to straight up control the planets biosphere with her mind. Cool.

The kids

I rather liked them, which is impressive! Child characters are hard to pull off. Aside from the smallest one, that one was entirely pointless. Certain aspects were unclear, like at some point we're expected to believe that the middle child feels like he's a disappointment to his family because... why exactly? He gets the others in trouble, sure, but it's not like he actively fails at something, other than following (somewhat arbitrary) rules. He's already a warrior by the tribe's standard (I presume, by the fact he is involved in the attack early on), but he gets grounded like a child? His subplot with the whale suggests he's uncomfortable with societal rules, doesn't understand them and wants to do his own thing, except he very clearly isn't and doesn't, he gets in trouble for disobeying the letter not the spirit of the rules. He doesn't even get a proper "well done son guy", and his "reconciliation" with Jake is teaching him the water tribe skills, which would matter more if a) Jake was at any point having trouble with adjusting to living in the water, b) the skills were what was the problem.

Spider was fascinating. First, who did his manscaping? I demand to know! But jokes aside, if not about Neytiri the movie should have been about him.

The whale

Go whale! I'm team whale.

The way of water

Sure would be nice if we got to see more of the practices of the water tribes, instead of montage skipping to action scenes.

Aesthetics

Very beautiful. My only complaint was the Sigourney Weaver character, her face was too uncanny valley for me.

Music

Present.

Overall

I was really mad when I walked out of the cinema, and I had a hard time enjoying the visuals because there were just too many concepts to be absorbed and then disappointed by. There's so much in here that could have been a great movie! Or three! But like so many current blockbusters it feels like this movie was written by an AI, words slapped on a page, superficially connected and making sense, but the number of fingers does not add up to a hand.

[galacticwildfire]

Fire Meet Gasoline | Poe Dameron

Four

Poe Dameron x Solo Original Character

Hope Solo’s haunted by the night the temple burned. Having gone rogue she hunts the First Order in search of answers until a fateful encounter with Poe Dameron brings her back to the Resistance and Leia puts her daughter under his command to find Luke Skywalker.

Word count: 8.2k

Tags/warnings: leia pov, poe pov, snap being a wingman, poe being mortified but still curious, leia debating if it's better or worse for her sanity to make hope and poe partners, references to family violence and other related themes of broken family, references to murder and kidnapping of children, references to the spice runner plot. typical r2 and threepio.

All my stories are written for adults with adult themes, I use appropriate tags but read at your discretion.

A/N: no hope pov this chapter, it was moved to the next one because this one rounded out at 12k originally. moving onto the plot of before the awakening and there'll be much more interaction between hope and poe going forward. this is more plot based and slowburny than what i usually write.

~

~

~

Leia

I put my head in my hands and for the first time in so long weep.

I was harsh, but the words were nothing but the truth no matter how she may have interpreted them. As brilliant as she is I've raised an entitled child who isn't afraid to use her own pain for her personal benefit, never afraid to pull the dirtiest cards to win an argument. To this day I truly do curse pushing her into politics, if she's learned nothing else it's how to argue.

I'd always admired her stubbornness, her refusal to back down, until I happened to be at the receiving end of the very qualities she'd inherited from me. I know she's better than this, I've seen her determination. I just need to give her a reason to believe in the cause again. When I was her age every single day I questioned if what we did was making a true difference, times aren't as desperate as they were then but they will be if she isn't out there fighting how the Resistance needs her to be.

It pains me for her to physically recoil from my touch when in the days after the temple burned she'd laid in my bed with her head in my lap for the first time since she was a child. As I had at the same tender age when an accident had also taken from me someone I'd cared for. I knew she mourned her friend Aylee, a Twi'lek girl Hope had always harboured feelings for but never acted on, but I suspect that had changed shortly before the fire as she'd turned up at my door after they'd fought, high strung and not wanting to return to the temple.

Whatever was said Hope had taken it to heart and has been utterly sour towards the idea of any closeness with anyone since, even as friendship. I'd tried to get her to understand as best I could that one adolescent fight doesn't leave a person scorned for life, and it was during that ordeal she came to the first meeting of the Resistance. She decided to devote herself to the cause until Ben had demanded she return with him as she had also committed herself as his apprentice, and for the first time I saw my daughter look at him in fear even if she returned willingly.

I thought they'd be safe with Luke, and then days later the temple burned.

Whenever I'd tried to tell Hope I had also lost someone who meant something similar to me at that age she couldn't bare to listen to it, especially not when I told her a greater love found me mere years later. She didn't want to hear it, and in truth neither did I at her age either. I think it was then she'd decided the only way to ever avoid feeling such pain was to not love, something I wish I did not understand.

I remember well my own resolution even now and debating the reasons behind it. Because I couldn't trust anyone completely, because I didn't deserve to find love, because I didn't know how to bear another loss like it.

Except I would, I would find love and I would certainly know loss.

As will she.

At only seventeen when she woke from the aftermath of the disaster she pulled away from everyone she cared about, she lost contact with the Naberrie family on Naboo, even with the cousin with whom she had spent her teenage years being raised alongside by my aunt. But she did not just lose a girl she cared for that day, if that was all she'd lost perhaps she would have mourned and healed, she lost far more than that.

She lost herself.

It would not be until the aftermath I'd learn from of the fights that had occurred between my children in the lead up to the disaster. The bruises Lando had seen on her arm and R2 having reluctantly told me Hope had to order him not to stun Ben when he'd lost his mind following the revelation of who Anakin Skywalker became. Her faithful droid, putting himself between her and my son to protect her. He'd already harmed her before that fateful night, that much R2 has confirmed. He is a loyal droid, but when it comes to Hope's welfare he puts that above all else. So when I hear Hope now in tears trying to bring Ben back... it only leaves me feeling ill, knowing she has somehow convinced herself him falling to the darkside was her fault.

The one thing I never thought Ben could be capable of would be harming Hope, but she's right. She has the permanent scars to prove she knows the darkness that's corrupted him better than I ever could, yet even now she still tries to protect him.

Aylee, her friends, everyone had been killed in the blaze along with one other student who we'd found killed from a lightsaber wound, body covered by Luke in a shallow grave nearby. Not that we had ever dared disclose that information to Hope. She insists she remembers little of what occurred after lightning struck the temple, and to this day I still do not want to know which of my children had put Voe in her grave, a girl Ben's own age, not unlike Karé Kun in physical appearance with bronzed skin and short blonde hair. Although deep down I know who had struck the girl down, even if Hope doesn't.

It's been my theory it was her who had left that final lightsaber burn upon Hope, as unfortunate as it is I know if Hope had set out to kill Voe that the girl never would have lived long enough to leave such a wound upon Hope, so I have some peace knowing whatever violence she committed that night was in self defence. But as for after that... I believe Luke had put her in a healing trance to keep her alive until we arrived awhile he pursued Ben and two other students who had taken after him, their bodies also found at a later date off world. We never heard from him again aside from the distress signal he had sent out to us that night.

She suppresses it, I know because whenever I try to broach the subject it's a physical and psychological recoil. She cannot bear it without falling into a panic attack or forcing her way out of the room. It is my mistake having had her believe strength is being unflinching in the face of trauma and only facing it once the fight is over, she has always led by example after all, but in her mind the fight has never ended and I know she fears it never will.

I just wish she would let me in, that she would let me try to help her.

But I know by now that there's one way to get through to her, and it's to put her to work.

In the year since she's left we've been able to assemble two naval squadrons of which I've recently put Poe in charge. Blue Squadron to lead the planetary defence and red to support it. Originally I had planned to promote her and put them under her command, but then the incident happened and here we are. Once she proves herself not just capable but willing I do still intend on putting red squadron under her command with Poe continuing to lead the other. She was specifically trained for planetary defence on Naboo, the apparent offensive training is her own doing, and I know she's always aspired to climb the ranks. For someone who will gladly mock senators and their preoccupations with titles she sure is particular about rank.

Although according to Padmé Amidala's surviving handmaidens,that is also unfortunately inherited.

She's no doubt furious with me that Poe's been made commander of these squadrons while she wasn't, but that much is her own doing. If she weren't so damn stubborn she'd be part of high command by now, but no, I'm having to sit and debate with her the legality of war crimes.

She's no doubt preparing to leave, and if I don't handle this situation carefully I'll lose her for good, but spite always has been her best motivator. She's taken a liking to Poe, or at least found a need to prove herself better, which may just be more effective. Meanwhile Poe's no doubt reeling from mortification considering he's stated his admiration of her quite clearly while looking me in the eye no less. As for her own attraction to him, well, that much is certainly obvious. 

Maker help me.

But I could still put this to use for Saber Strike. Individually they are brilliant, the most efficient agents the Resistance has, not because of their skillsets but because they would each die before admitting failure. Poe is perhaps the best pilot of his generation and Hope certainly is of her's. Poe is a person who certainly lives for the thrill of a skirmish but is not prone to violence, if anything he seems queasy about it. Hope meanwhile... I will not be allowing her in the field alone for a very long time if ever.

However, unfortunately the rebellion was not won through righteousness alone. I know Hope's extremism also existed within the Rebel Alliance and that they were the ones who had the stomach to do what needed to be done in those early days. Hope is as much of a realist as they come, a young Luthan Rael if ever one lived, and by my own sad admittance, cursed to use the tools of her enemy to defeat them as much as I may still detest it. It is true that with Luke missing it is Hope who is the last Jedi, the last one who can destroy Snoke, unless...

Regardless of whatever I may wish, my own daughter has deified herself as the self sacrificial saviour who will destroy the darkness at the cost of everything, never stopping for a moment to witness the collateral damage she leaves in her wake. My only fear is how far she would go, how brutally she would destroy herself in the name of destroying Snoke.

Whilst Poe... as much as I do admire him, he has a similar naivety as Luke did when it comes to certain things. His faith in the force and in the light is stronger than that of most Jedi who have lived, although considering his own stint in the Outer Rims it seems to be his choice, rather than ignorance, to believe righteousness and all those qualities my generation tried to instill in our children will prevail in the end. A quality much needed in the galaxy and one I will forever encourage profusely. However, he like most members of the Resistance fail to understand the darkness in the force that shrouds the First Order in secrecy.

I've never spoken a word of it to Poe, but I am very much aware of where he'd ended up before the Navy. Kes had reached out to every contact he had to try to find Poe when he ran away as a teenager and got involved in a similar line of work as Hope now has. I was unable to provide much assistance but Han knew the ins and outs of that world and put Kes on the right course to find his son, although it seems he couldn't do the same for his own daughter. I've never judged Poe for it, just as I can't truly judge Hope for it either. It seems at this point to be a right of passage to end up caught in that sort of mess searching for adventure, or rather escape.

And as Hope would no doubt remind me, it could always be worse. Her brother is proof of that. Another card she isn't afraid to pull. 

Poe came out the other end of that brief career and straightened himself out, and while he still most certainly has his moments he is the undoubtedly the more responsible of the two. He and Hope would understand each other quite well if they gave each other the chance, or rather if she let her guards down, and by all accounts he should make the ideal mentor to her. There's nine years between them with Poe going on thirty and Hope twenty one, if they'd met a few years earlier I certainly would have had Poe mentor her. Although it's quite blindingly clear to me now that any sort of mentorship is off the table with how he looks at her, even if I dare say he's backtracked whatever sort of flirtations he no doubt made before I arrived.

To ask Poe to mentor her would be ethically and practically unreasonable now, but a partnership... that is a risky proposition that command will certainly hate me for but it may just work. A partnership between them could either be the best decision I've ever made or the worst. From the quite explicit tension between them I'd unfortunately encountered it could very well end in something command would not approve of or in utter disaster. Even if it did go a certain way... ethically I should be opposed to that thought but I can't deny the fact that they could make quite the partnership in the field and off of it.

However, the fact stands that I cannot trust her to be in the field by herself and I am still very reluctant to put Poe in harms way when I know with her there that the risk of fatalities, on our side at least, would drop to near zero. He would keep her from going too far whilst she would ensure they both make it out alive.

And in the long term... I have high hopes for each of them but there are areas in which each are lacking, flaws they both share. Poe is a brilliant commander, his commitment is absolute, but he is difficult. He doesn't mean to be, but it's just in his nature just as it's in Hope's. If I recall my conversations with Kes he's been that way since he was a child and maker knows Hope was the same. I can handle each of them and their personalities well, at present Poe more so, but command simply cannot. Brance is probably sobbing to himself at this very moment at the thought of both of them on the same base interacting let alone putting them in the field together.

Working together would certainly be a self reflective experience for them both as as for Hope... well, it's past time she learned to work with anyone but herself. Her and Poe mirror each other greatly, there are many benefits that could come of them working together as partners but an even greater chance of it ending in disaster knowing their mutual compulsions towards reacting not just emotionally but also impulsively.

But at this rate I'm willing to try anything, and ultimately whether or not they want to work together is their choice to make. I dare say Poe will jump at the opportunity, if anything I'll be trying to get him to be realistic instead of up in the clouds, but Hope will take more convincing,

"Threepio," I call and he comes in from the next room. "Ensure R2 doesn't leave with Hope, have him download Hope's ship logs before bringing him to me and have Korr ask Poe to meet me here in my office please."

~

Poe

Whatever happened in that office wasn't pretty from the way she stormed out, so naturally I'm shitting myself as I wait in the hanger to inevitably be called in to see Leia. Only a few months I've been here and I'm about to get put on probation because I was trying to impress a girl who just happens to be the General's daughter, after looking the general in the eye and telling her just how pretty I think she is.

I should have put it together the moment I saw her, I mean technically I did but dismissed it since that was the last place I'd expect to find the kid of Leia Organa. I saw explosions and then a pretty girl with a mouth on her and there really wasn't anything else I thought I needed to know. When we were in the field I was blown away, having expected to see the fighter get blown to bits only for it to take out the ties in a way I've never seen anyone else do in my life. I'm still in awe of it.

It should have clicked in my head that type of pilot had to be the sort of crazy I'd often hear my Dad tell me about when he'd recount his war days with Han Solo, and it sure as hell should have clicked the moment I realised she knew the general and had worked for the Resistance. But again, I was not thinking with my head and I'm pretty sure Leia knows it, hell she said as much.

I'm in trouble, I'm definitely in trouble.

Hope Solo, everyone knows her name. It's almost synonymous with the rest of her family's considering the headlines she made when the truth about Leia's biological father was exposed. Even now I have trouble believing Darth Vader physically could have created someone like Leia Organa. I wouldn't have ever believed it if she hadn't confessed to it being true but people aren't their parents, so that leaves me wondering just who Hope Solo is.

Everyone in the navy was gathered in the cramped mess hall to watch Leia's first and last address to the senate after it was revealed. Many of the people in there had served in the Rebellion and took the attack personally, some felt betrayed by her, but those who knew her personally felt horrified on her behalf. I still remember Wedge Antilles shaking his head as they tried to attack Luke Skywalker as well. But everyone in that room who ever knew Leia was deadly silent when another senator insinuated that her daughter could become what Vader was and holy hell did Hope Solo make a name for herself then.

I vaguely remember a quiet looking girl who took after Leia standing beside her in the senate, now I look back on it I don't know how I didn't recognise her considering her face was all over the holonews for weeks but I'd chalk that up to age and the gritty makeup. When they hurled every ridiculous conspiracy they could at Leia no one expected her daughter to stand up and call half the senate imperial sympathisers, an accusation no one was game enough to even utter. I didn't care much about the politics, didn't get the context of whatever was happening in the senate before then other than the fact they were trying to screw over the navy by cutting funding, but the moment the senators decided to try to spewIimperial propaganda about the Jedi they'd asked for it.

I remember much like every other person in the mess hall watching on stunned as Leia's daughter who'd been silent until that point tore into every single person in that senate and demanded that if Leia were to be crucified then every other person with connections to Imperial leadership should be damned with her. I was sitting close enough to Wedge Antille's close to hear him remark that she was definitely Leia's kid. I've forgotten most of what was said but everyone knew her name after that.

Just days before she'd made headlines for surviving an assassination attempt, but it wasn't just because of that, the media had caught footage of her stopping the blaster bolt mid air and that sent shockwaves through a post Empire galaxy. Anyone who'd called the force bullshit was quiet after that and whatever betrayal some felt was quickly overshadowed by the image of Leia's teenage daughter being almost assassinated outside the steps of Coruscant's Jedi Temple.

There were one or two surviving Alderaanians in the room who only nodded in approval when Leia gave her daughter the title of Princess of Alderaan and whatever powers came with it and- and I flirted with not just the General's daughter, but a princess. Although you sure as hell wouldn't be able to guess it from looking at her, but then again knowing Leia I should've have any pre-conceived notions of what that should look like.

But she isn't just a politician or a princess, she's a Jedi, the last one there is aside from Luke Skywalker. Even if he isn't anywhere to be seen for reasons no one can seem to explain, but all the theories come back to one disaster.

No one knows what really happened, I've thought about it when I've felt that blanket of grief hanging over Leia from time to time, whenever I've heard the rumours about her husband leaving her to run the Resistance alone after their son was killed the night the temple was destroyed. Hope Solo was known as the sole survivor when the news broke about the fire, but no statement was ever made by Leia or anyone else. Leia's said enough for me to gather Luke Skywalker's still alive, but never anything related to anyone else in her family aside from one exception.

When she recruited me she'd chided me for being reckless in engaging the First Order while I still served with the Navy, but at the same time praised it, saying I reminded her of her daughter. I'd asked if it was a compliment because her tone left much to be deciphered, only now I think I finally understand it. I'd been curious to meet her myself to see what she meant but quickly found when I arrived on base it was a hushed topic. I remember L'ulo telling me it would be good to have another mad pilot on base since the General's daughter had gone to finish university, so really I should be forgiven for not putting it together.

I look at the x-wing she was working on, which is certainly more banged up than mine despite her insulting my ship, and recognise an R2 droid going past towards a larger transport ship docked nearby. It is the R2 droid. I look around anxiously but she's nowhere to be found.

BB8 beside me beeps in question, even droids know who R2-D2 is considering that droid might just be one of the most decorated war heroes in history from the stories I've heard, certainly the most decorated droid. He's the droid version of Luke Skywalker.

"Yep, that's the one buddy," I confirm and tell him. "I think we've gotten into a real mess."

I was out here flirting with a Jedi. Do Jedi even have relationships or marry? The big scandal with Leia's parents prior to them even knowing about Vader was the fact she was the child of a Jedi and a queen. As a kid I'd always been curious, begged my Mom to tell me stories of the Jedi and she obliged as best she could considering the Empire had tried to erase them from memory, but I remember taking notice of that part of their legend.

Hope Solo however is a legend of her own. Princess, Jedi, although they seem to have left out being one of the best pilots in the galaxy. But there's other rumours that I've tried not to listen to, the same as when the news of Leia's parentage came to light. I still remember when I went home to Yavin-4 that year and my Dad shaking his head and saying it was nothing but an attack on Leia and the Rebellion. It wasn't until then I learned just how close both of my parents were with herl, and whatever faith she had in them she's passed on to me.

I can't let her down.

Which means this is not a great start.

It's then I panic remembering that everything with Darth Vader and the Jedi Temple only happened a few years ago, and I very specifically remember hearing them say that it was Leia's teenage daughter who was a victim of it. After doing some very quick math on my fingers I come to the conclusion she has to be at least eighteen since it's been about four years since then, I picked her for early twenties in the field but after looking at her properly she could be younger.

BB-8 beeps in alarm when I start cursing in panic under my breath, praying she's at least twenty.

You hardly see anyone under twenty five on base and when I came into the hanger and saw her working on her ship there wasn't much else on my mind than the fact that she was actually there and I had the chance to know her. Again, not thinking with my head, but I know it was with my heart as well as other things. Despite however it came off I'm a romantic at heart and I'd be lying if I said she hadn't been on my mind ever since I saw her. BB's certainly heard everything I've had to say about it in the days that have passed when I've let my mind wander to being able to meet her, and I'd done a pretty good job until Leia came back and well...

Ever since I was recruited the only thing that's been on my mind has working hard to prove my worth and find my place here, but I can't remember the last time I looked at someone and felt a spark like that and knew I had to know her, thinking what's the harm in asking?

Turns out there is much harm in it.

I'm interrupted from my thoughts by Hope Solo walking into the hanger, clearly not happy, and my first instinct is to hide behind a stack of crates much to BB8's confusion.

"R2?" she calls out and I stare in a state of awe as she leaps up onto the outside of the ship using what can only be the force, something I've never actually seen with my own eyes. She looks into the astromech pod and I hear her curse at finding her droid not there. "Damnit."

She'd be the same height as Leia but now I'm slightly gagged in my teasing knowing she definitely doesn't need a ladder. She ducks inside the transport ship only to come out cursing louder and far more creatively now and it's then Snap heads over to her from where he was doing maintenance on his ship.

"Hey Snap," she sighs, her attention anywhere but on him.

"Looking for something?" Snap asks and I shake my head at the realisation that he knows her, and that he sure as hell knew who I'd seen in the field. I'm surprised they know each other but remember the older veteran served with Han Solo and has been working for the Resistance since the start. He's become my wingman since I arrived but that was only a few months ago, she's been around far longer than that.

"R2's done a runner," she says throwing her hands up in frustration but Snap hardly looks phased. "You seen him?"

"Yeah he was here not long ago, looked to be doing his maintenance on your x-wing before doing something in the Shiraya," he says and I see panic cross her face. "Anyway how's Han going, thought you would have dragged him to base?"

"I wish I knew and I would if I could find him," she says and see an immediate look of regret on Snap's face but she laughs it off, a laugh I recognise a little too well. The same one I'd use whenever people would ask how my dad was when we weren't getting along. "Well if you see either of them let them know I've been looking for them."

"Will do," Snap says and asks "So how'd it go with Leia?"

"I doubt you'll be seeing me again," she answers shortly and I find myself frowning. "But thank you for the heads up about her knowing about the N-1."

"No problem," he says and has the guts to say "You do realise running away the moment you've gotten back's kind of pointless right?"

Her face falls and she's visibly offended. "Really Snap?"

"Whatever happened with Leia she's missed you, just let it calm down and see what else she's got to say," he tries to counsel and I realise they actually do know each other well, that there's a reason why Leia said that Snap would know what to say if he saw her in the field.

"Sorry, but being compared to Darth Vader isn't exactly fun," she spits out and I almost choke at that. She looks like she's about to go off but shakes her head and bites her tongue for a moment before saying "Look if you see R2 can you send him my way please."

He nods relatively unphased and asks as she goes to leave "You run into Poe yet?"

BB-8 beeps at recognition of my name and I peak around the corner of one of the crates, too curious not to listen.

"That commander you mean?" she says and I can't quite read her voice, or her face. "You could say that."

"What did you think?" Snap asks, being my wingman off the field as well. "Not so bad huh?"

She hesitates before answering "Alright, he's not so bad." I don't know her but something tells me that's a high praise from the look on Snap's face. "Hardly matters now though."

"Shame, because I know Brance is having a breakdown just thinking about having to deal with both of you."

She has a mischievous glint in her eyes, the same as I'd seen when she challenged me. "That is true."

"Be a shame to leave now huh?" he says patting her on the shoulder as he walks past and there's a contemplative look on her face as she turns back.

"Take care Snap."

He nods and heads one way while she goes the other, a now serious expression on her face as she makes her way to leave the hanger only for BB-8 to roll out and in my panic call for him in a hushed whisper but stay hidden as he bumps against her leg.

He beeps a greeting to her and her face changes as she looks down at him. "Well, hello." She bends down and asks "What's your name?" He beeps his name and she smiles despite how frustrated she was five seconds ago. It's a genuine smile, it suits her. "It's nice to meet you BB-8, my name's Hope. Have you seen R2-D2? I've been trying to find him."

Her voice is kinder than anything I've heard up until now when as she speaks to him, whatever defensiveness she's worn with me and even Snap immediately disappearing. BB-8 gives her the same answer as Snap and she sighs in disappointment before thanking him.

"Well thank you anyways BB-8." She gives his head a little rub as she stands and makes her way out of the hanger and when BB rolls back over to me he's beeping happily.

I shake my head as Snap comes over, barely hiding his amusement as he asks "Hiding behind a crate?"

I'm a little less amused. "So you know the General's daughter?"

"So you finally pieced that one together?" he asks and I press my lips together as he laughs to himself.

"You could have given me a heads up."

"Hey I told you not to mention to the General that you thought she was flirting with you," he says, finding this hilarious. "You didn't go telling her what you told me did you? Acting all like a lovesick puppy." I don't have an answer to that and he finds it suddenly a little less funny. "Shit, you did didn't you?" My silence is answer enough. "You're in trouble."

BB-8 beeps in confusion as to why. "I'm aware Snap."

"But yeah I've known her for years," he answers casually. "You picked her right when you said she's got an attitude."

"Yeah, no kidding," I find myself saying and find myself fidgeting with the feeling of an impending scolding. "Can I ask you something else?"

"Shoot."

"How mad do you think the General would be if I didn't just tell her to her face how pretty I think her daughter is, but that I'd also asked her daughter out and she caught us about to have an x-wing race?"

He looks stunned now. "You asked her out?"

"More or less," I admit, gathering she maybe didn't realise I was from how confused she looked. "Before she said yes or no she wanted to challenge me to a race and well..."

Snap's torn between looking mortified on my behalf and laughing. "Oh you are in trouble."

"This isn't funny."

"It's a little funny," he says much to my annoyance and asks "Wait so how did you end up in that situation?"

"Well I- I might have told her she was talking to the best pilot in the galaxy and she took that as a challenge."

He looks at me like I'm an idiot, but thankfully we've been friends long enough now I don't feel too worried about my reputation with him. "You told Han Solo's daughter you're a better pilot, considering she might just be a better pilot than Han Solo himself?"

Now I'm feeling even more mortified but also impressed and wondering how true that is, momentarily wishing we had enough time to go through with the race.

"Well I didn't know that then," I insist and scratch my head. "She- I wanted to impress her you know, but that kind of backfired. I've been waiting for the general to call me in for a dressing down ever since she told us to get out of the ships."

"Well I'm betting she'd be a bit preoccupied," Snap says and lowers his voice. "It wasn't pretty when Hope left."

"What do you mean?" I ask, there still being some blanks I can't fill in. "And what was she doing out there anyways. I'd heard she was at some university?"

"Yeah, that was the cover story," he says and looks around to make sure no one's in earshot. "She engaged the enemy on a mission, and I don't mean fired a few shots. I mean wiped them out."

"Wiped them out?" I repeat, struggling to reconcile the image of that with the girl I just saw talking to BB.

"With a lightsaber," he confirms. "But from what I've heard it was for a fair enough reason. Came across a stormtrooper operation trying to abduct kids."

Whatever chill I had's gone at those words, if I'd come across something like that I wouldn't exactly be able to walk away either. "So what was the problem?"

He's hesitant now. "Don't know, that much everything my rank and above heard about but there was something else, don't know what but if I know one thing it's that she's got the General's temper and Solo's tendency to take off and not look back. I've known her since she was sixteen or seventeen, she's a nice girl even if she's got some anger issues, likes droids more than most people." I notice the way Snap speaks about her, almost like she's a sister to him and BB beeps again, definitely having taken a liking her. "See, loves droids, but everyone on base knows not to get between her and the General if they're having a fight. Advising her not to take off after one is the furthest I'll go."

I nod slowly, starting to panic again and have to ask "Just out of curiosity... how old is she?"

"Twenty or so, going on twenty one I think," he answers much to my relief. It's not great, but not as bad as it could be. If she's going on twenty one that means there's still nearly ten years between us, and considering I've definitely never looked at someone that much younger before I'm not quite sure how to feel about that. I'd guessed early twenties when I saw her but I've also forgotten I'm about to be thirty, turns out her being Leia's kid isn't the only variable complicating things. "Don't worry I can assure you the General wouldn't care about that considering she's closer to my age than Han's but still, have BB-8 record that dressing down for me will you?"

"Snap," I groan and he just laughs.

"I'm surprised Hope didn't give you one herself," he admits. "Saw her punch a guy once who thought she'd be easy pickings. Never saw him again that's for sure."

Despite feeling mildly alarmed now I still can't help but feel flattered as I lower my voice "You know as bad as this situation is with her being the General's daughter and all, I think she liked me."

Maybe like is a strong word, but there was something there that I definitely can't deny. I'm familiar enough with that electric feeling of something new, but this is something else and despite my better judgement I want to see where those sparks lead.

Snap raises an eyebrow and looks me over "Then you're definitely in trouble because the two of you would be lucky to last five minutes together without ending up in a pissing contest, oh wait."

"Haha, funny," I deadpan and we're interrupted by Leia's assistant Korr, one of the few people on base who'd be Hope's age, she wears a similar expression to what Brance did.

"Commander Dameron," she begins and can't help the sigh in her voice. "General Organa has asked to see you in her office."

"Yep," I say awkwardly and Snap's laughing to himself as I ask him. "Tell me who should I be more worried about, the General or Hope?"

"Oh Hope for sure, if she likes you you're in a world of trouble," he warns and tells me "Good luck."

I bring myself there expecting a dressing down but when I enter she seems less frustrated than I'd expected, more resigned than anything else.

"General."

She looks up and the first thing I notice is that it looks like she's been crying, before I can voice my concern she asks "Can you guess why I've called you in here Poe?"

"Yes General and I apologise, it was behaviour not befitting of a commander," I begin, having had that line memorised since she stepped out of her ship. "It will not happen again."

She seems surprised, almost amused. "How long have you had that one rehearsed?"

"Long enough," I say and make very clear. "I had absolutely no idea the N-1 pilot was your daughter."

I can't quite read her face as she says "I've spent enough time around young headstrong pilots to have realistic expectations. I even married one, so little surprises me when it comes to my daughter."

"That is still not an excuse," I find myself saying but she waves me off.

"You and Hope are the two best pilots in this base, possibly in the galaxy," she says and while it's certainly flattering I prepare myself for the dressing down. "That is not flattery. You're the best because you're both foolishly rash but talented and you know it. I'm not surprised that the first time you meet properly you get into a pissing contest."

She speaks frankly and it's all I can do to not appear too relieved that she thinks it was just a pissing contest and not what it was. I'd gotten into some awkward situations when I was in the navy because I wasn't thinking with my head but none as awkward as this. "And I am not proud of it."

She definitely seems amused now. "It's good to know you have some shame since she certainly doesn't. Before you start apologising for telling me how pretty you think she is I truly don't care considering it was the intelligence you brought back that gave us her approximate location so I could send her uncle to get her."

Slightly confused but mostly relieved I ask "Luke Skywalker?"

Despite the rumours of him being missing I've always assumed Leia's known where he went considering he's her brother, and I can't recall anyone else who could have gone and gotten her.

"Lando Calrissian, he was her fathers best friend," she explains and I nod, some things starting to click as I remember meeting Calrissian years back and him wanting to introduce me to his niece who he told me was one of the youngest professional starfighter pilots in the galaxy. He couldn't find her but it's not hard to guess who that would have been. "But enough of that, you'll be no doubt relieved to know I didn't call you in to answer for whatever my daughter attempted to goad you into."

"You're not?" I can't help but say and force myself to relax when I realise the frustration I can feel from her isn't directed towards me. "Then is it about a mission?"

"I suppose so, yes," she says and goes on. "Hope has been difficult these past few years, I can't blame her for it but she is awfully defiant. Too much like me and certainly too much like her father, and yet even being her fathers daughter still I struggle to pinpoint just where this level of pure recklessness comes from. Considering your father served directly alongside Han I'm sure you've heard enough stories to get where I'm coming from."

"Oh yep," I say, having practically begged Dad to tell me his war stories and just what Han Solo was like, as a kid who wanted to take after the greats in becoming a pilot I couldn't help myself. Suddenly I find myself wondering why she didn't send Han to bring his daughter back but I see an ache in her eyes even speaking about him and realise the rumours around estrangement might be worse than what I've heard, especially if his own daughter doesn't know where he is. "Look, she might have an ego and be a little reckless in the field but she's got the skill to back it up."

Now she sighs, those not being the words she wanted to hear, but she hardly looks surprised. "And this is what I meant when I recruited you, when I told you that you reminded me of my daughter. But a little rebellion and going on some damn foolhardy crusade in the Outer Rims with smugglers and pirates for the sake of spiting a parent is another."

Her example is quite specific but not aimed towards me. I'm equally surprised and relieved to know that Leia doesn't know about the record the NRSB definitely has on me, or the fact I was personally hunted by one of their agents during my stint with the spice runners, but considering I was a minor it seems my prayers that it was scrubbed from public record were answered.

"I mean, I wasn't perfect but she gives me a run for my money that's for sure," I say and she has a quiet amusement behind her eyes I can't quite make sense of. I'm confused as to why she's telling me this, perhaps she's sharing it out of frustration and in that case I'd be flattered she trusts me enough to vent but that's not Leia's style, which means she has plans in store that include Hope and I.

"She does," Leia says. "It was one of the reasons I recruited you, because she'd left in a fit of anger after being demoted for the highest level of insubordination-"

"Mutiny?"

"Second highest," she says and leaves that up to my interpretation. I've got pieces from what Snap's told me but clearly something worse has happened that they've kept quiet. Leia had offered to have my own insubordination during the navy taken care of before she'd recruited me, so I wouldn't be surprised that she'd do the same for her kid. "She's bright but doesn't have the collective loyalty required to commit a mutiny much to her disappointment I'm sure. If she did I dare say the Resistance would be a dictatorship or worse."

I look at R2-D2 and he beeps his agreement with that, again I find myself glad I'm not her commander. Karé and Iolo have committed their fair share of insubordination against me but I ultimately I trust their judgement and give them room to improvise. Something tells me Hope Solo would be another matter altogether.

"What I was saying is that the two of you are pilots seen once in a generation, and when she left I needed someone to fill her place and now she's back." She continues, seeming apprehensive, nervous almost. "And she will not be happy about the fact there is someone here who gives her a run for her money but she'll have to get over that and so will you."

I only grow more confused. "I haven't had any issue with-"

"Not yet, but you will," she assures me. "You might have puppy eyes seeing what she can do but it won't last." Puppy eyes, was it that obvious? "She is immensely difficult which you will soon discover. She's one hell of a pilot who has made it clear to me that if I don't give her missions she'll sanction her own if she doesn't take off first."

Being Leia's daughter she has to be competent, she said she was a captain after all, so personally I don't see much of an issue but ask "And she can't because-"

"She made a habit of engaging the enemy with a lightsaber and as such she was demoted and stripped of her rank."

"Lightsaber?" I repeat, that being the key word in that sentence I take notice of and try to follow it up with a rational comment. "I would have thought a Jedi would be the first person you'd send on a mission."

"Don't get too excited, at the moment she's a rogue pilot who happens to have a lightsaber and can throw rocks, far from a Jedi," she warns and her voice saddens a little. "But it wasn't always that way. The issue is that she, much like you, doesn't do things half heartedly. She would sooner go too far and put herself in danger than fail a mission. Does that sound familiar?" I nod and she continues. "I have a mission I want the two of you to undertake together in the hopes that your respective reckless tendencies will cross the other out so you can make it out of this alive, because frankly, if I sent only one of you I don't know if you'd make it back. Which is why I've just told you everything I have, so you know what you'll be getting into if you agree to work with her."

My heart skips a beat at the thought of working with her and I try to keep my voice calm, caught off guard Leia is sending me on a mission with her instead of putting me on probation. "Well from the sound of this mission it seems less like a choice and more like common sense."

"Yes, hopefully if I put the two of you together you'll have half as much sense as a regular person," she can't help but remark and I realise she still is slightly annoyed after all at finding us about to race. "You'll need it considering you'll only complete this mission if you make it out alive and relatively unscathed while demonstrating significant caution, which isn't either of your typical styles, but you are the only two pilots with the skills and recklessness to pull this off."

I can't help but see this as a win. "I know I should probably feel insulted but I'm flattered General."

"The two of you might not have any problems after all," she says and tells me "I'll call her in for the briefing granted she won't take off without R2."

I look at the droid, definitely sensing some sort of betrayal there from the data he's uploading to the General's databank, and BB-8 takes the moment to properly introduce himself to the veteran droid, unable to hide his excitement.

In all honesty I'm struggling to hide mine as well despite Leia's warnings until Threepio comes in and says "I have sent Lieutenant Sella to get Miss Hope, would you like me to bar the door so she cannot leave when she arrives?"

Leia catches my alarm but waves her hand. "That will not be necessary Threepio, if she really wants to leave she'll find a way out regardless."

"Terrible lack of manners," Threepio chides as he goes to wait outside. "You'd think she'd been raised in the Outer Rims, but not even Master Luke lacked such courtesy. I do hope you have been keeping her out of trouble R2, but according to my network it seems you've failed to do that."

That's probably the most critical I've ever heard Threepio but R2-D2's language leaves me with raised eyebrows as he insults Threepio back and I look at Leia.

"They have a long history," she tries to explain, but gives R2 a warning look at his language which I've definitely never heard from a droid before but considering the amount of war's he's fought I can't exactly blame him. "I believe R2's also picked up on some of Hope's strategies when it comes to arguing from the sounds of it."

Finally then do I start to wonder what I may be getting myself into. 

[over-the-time-flow]

Super Robot Rollcall: The Haran Conglomerate

Banjo Haran

"For this world and its people, Daitarn 3 will crush the ambitions of the Meganoids! If you don't fear the brilliance of the sun itself, bring it on!!"

Source Material: Invincible Steel Man Daitarn 3 Age: 17/18 Voice Actor: Hirotaka Suzuoki Character Designer: Norio Shioyama

One cool customer, Banjo Haran is one of if not the richest man on Earth, and he dedicates all of his fortune and free time torwards a single goal; eradicating the Meganoids who took his family from him. Alongside his wacky team, he'll go to any lengths necessary to keep the world safe and crush their wicked ambitions with the Daitarn 3.

SRW tends to adapt his coolheaded side and his hot-blooded, hateful side that shows whenever he fights Meganoids, but one big complaint i've always had is that they never adapt his more comedic side, which is strange, as watching the actual show, he's full on Jiron Amos levels of Tomino comedic protagonist. SRW Banjo feels like an entirely different entity from anime Banjo, being written almost like he's super robot Batman, and with his riches being often used as a plot device to explain where the team is getting its funding from. I don't like it very much, but i didn't like Daitarn 3 all that much either, so it's not that big of a deal to me. For what it's worth, R's is probably my favorite Banjo i've seen in SRW so far.

Even if i'm liable to bitch about Banjo's writing in SRW, there's no way you could get me to complain about the gameplay side of things. Absolutely monstrous Melee stat, high Defense, surprisingly decent Accuracy, and while his Spirit learnset isn't too impressive just yet, take a look at that maximum SP pool. Most of everyone else who isn't a support unit is hovering around 80-90 max SP, and he's already barrelled past into 120+. Banjo is a machine that eats bosses.

Fun Fact: Terada, longtime producer of SRW games, stated in Umasugi Wave #822 that despite knowing Banjo is meant to be 17 to 18, he ends up writing him as a late-20s man. Even when he tries to write him more age-appropriately, it doesn't feel right, and he thinks it's because of the influence of how Suzuoki always played the character in SRW.

Daitarn 3

Source Material: Invincible Steel Man Daitarn 3 Height: 100 meters Energy Source: Solar power Real World Designer: Kunio Okawara

Originally a prototype Megaborg (Megaborgs being the giant forms that Meganoid commanders are capable of transforming into), Banjo stole it when his mother helped him escape Mars during the initial Meganoid insurrection. Now Banjo uses it to fight against the Meganoids, beating them at their own game.

The Daitarn 3 is a perfect fit for Banjo, Tanky and hits like a truck. It has a few issues, namely that its post-movement options all come with one or another caveat (small range, high EN cost, the like), but at the very least movement issues can be solved by changing into the Daifighter.

The Daitank is completely worthless as per usual SRW fare.

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hi, it’s me Fanfic Anon #2. Yes, Anon, I’m presently living on the east coast of North America (although I’m not originally from here …) I’m not Jill either, but you did give me this idea, so I hope you enjoy. Here’s another one set during the State Visit. This piece is inspired both by his most recent quote in the Paris Match article and also the fact that Brigitte always seems so nervous at these big ceremonial events and things, because as she’s said previously, everything is so carefully choreographed and she worries about being a liability for him. Hope everyone enjoys this one.

He kept looking over at her across from him at the table, kept checking in on how she was doing. He knew she was nervous about this dinner, worried about a lot of things, most of them related to the fact that they would be spending the evening speaking in English and the fact she was so concerned about embarrassing him.

He didn’t understand why she was so worried about her English. He knew that while sometimes she would have to search to find the word she was looking for, what he would always tell her was proof of her extensive vocabulary in her native language, she had far more than a passing grasp of the language.

But the thing that bothered him the most was how nervous she constantly was in these kinds of moments big and small about embarrassing him - as if she could ever be an embarrassment.

They had talked about it a few times, and he knew where it came from. She loved him so much the last thing she ever wanted was to become his problem. So she oh so carefully paid attention to where and how she stood; what she wore; what she said, when, and to whom; sometimes even her gestures down to the fiddling with her rings. She paid attention too to how close she got to him, when she would reach for his hand or arm, making sure it was okay, was appropriate, never giving the press any reason to attack her (not like it stopped them from going after her anyways for the transgressions they had written in their own heads, like her age, his age, her hair, her shoe size, who loans her clothing, which charities she supports).

He hated to see her like that, so unlike herself. She was witty, charming, charismatic - the life of the party, the light of his life - she wasn’t the woman who would bow out quickly when he drags her onto the stage with him to force her into the spotlight too (for there is no him without her).

“I’m sorry about tonight,” he apologized when they were in the car on the way back to Blair House.

“What? Why?”

“Because I could see how nervous you were all night. I know things like that make you uncomfortable. And I am sorry you have to put up with them for me.”

“Mon cœur, I don’t ‘put up’ with anything for you. I love you, and you need me, so there I am.”

“Still. I know how you feel about all of this. And while I still don’t understand it, I don’t blame you.”

“I just don’t want to embarrass you,” she sighed, telling him for the umpteenth time.

“How many different times, how many different ways do I need to tell you, Brigitte? You could never embarrass me. No, no. Look at me,” he commanded softly, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You are the single greatest thing that has ever happened to me. It is the honor of my lifetime to be by your side, on your arm. The title I’m proudest of, to borrow our host’s introduction of himself last year, is ‘Brigitte’s husband-‘“

“It was nice that my first interaction with this president wasn’t him commenting on my physical appearance,” she joked, trying to diffuse the moment a little, moved, but a little uncomfortable under his gaze.

Not letting her succeed in that, he picked up where he was when she interrupted him, “you literally could never embarrass me. If anything, I’m afraid I would embarrass you. I can’t dance and I’m known to put my foot in my mouth every now and again.”

“I just don’t want to become a liability.”

“Listen to me. You are my non-negotiable. I said it at the Economy Ministry, I said it to my staff during the campaign, and I’ve said it countless times in office: I cannot work if I am not happy, and I am not happy without you.

“So. Putting aside the fact you have a favorability rating that is literally double mine at the moment, you are never going to be a liability because you are my biggest asset.”

She nodded, slowly, when he finished, signaling to him she was trying to take it all in. “I love you,” she told him with a small smile.

“I love you more,” he replied.

“Not possible,” she winked, her smile growing wider.

(PS - it is reported that when POTUS introduced himself to Brigitte for the first time he introduced himself as “Jill’s husband” which I think we can all agree is a lot better than the comment the last POTUS made about her appearance the first time they met…)

Helloooo fanfic Anon #2! ❤️

Oh my heart! You kill me with the sweetness 🥰 Emmanuel being all worried with Brigitte, Brigitte just not wanting to mess up and embarrass him. I just can’t with these two 🤧 But the most beautiful part was the way Emmanuel reassured Brigitte 🥺😍

“I can’t dance and I’m known to put my foot in my mouth every now and again.” - most true quote in a fanfic ever 😂😂

Thank you so much, fanfic Anon #2! ❤️❤️❤️

[ukrfeminism]

Five children are being strip-searched by the Metropolitan Police without even being arrested first every week – with new data also exposing huge racial disparities.

Exactly 799 children aged between 10 and 17 were reportedly strip-searched while not in custody from 2019 to 2021.

Most were for suspected drugs offences, while there was no arrest or outcome in just less than half of the cases.

More than 50% of those strip-searched were black – 436 people – while 75% overall were from ethnically diverse backgrounds – 607 people.

Only one in five – 179 – were white, FOI data obtained by LBC shows.

Previous data released in March showed 5,279 children had been strip-searched in the past three years overall, with 3,939 (75%) from ethnically diverse backgrounds.

It also follows backlash over revelations that a 15-year-old girl, known as Child Q, was strip-searched by Met officers who knew she was on her period.

No other adult was present during the incident, in which she was wrongly suspected of carrying cannabis.

The force has said they are working hard to ensure officers have a clear understanding of their policy – as the searches of 10 other children are referred to the police watchdog for independent investigation.

London Mayor Sadiq Khan has said he is ‘concerned’ over the number of strip searches without arrest, although added that ‘proper checks’ are now being performed on ‘every single case’.

But Labour MP for Battersea, Marsha de Cordova, has warned it is ‘wrong’ to put a child through a strip-search if they haven’t been arrested.

Meanwhile, a former Met officer has warned that being strip-searched can be hugely distressing to children and leave ‘a scar in their hearts and minds’ after he spoke to families impacted.

Ali Hassan Ali, who left the force to start his own initiative combating violent crime, said: ‘All the families tell me the child spends more time in their bedroom now, doesn’t do well in school anymore, doesn’t socialise like they used to.’

His remarks come after the case of a teenage daughter who reportedly tried to take her own life after she was strip-searched.

Mr Ali added that it can also damage children’s trust in authority, saying: ‘They’ll see a police car, and they get scared.’

Both he and Ms de Cordova have been left enraged by the racial disparities and believe black children, especially boys, are often treated as if they are older.

A spokesperson from the Met has said the force recognises the ‘significant’ impact searches have on young people and is ‘progressing at pace work to ensure children subject to intrusive searches are dealt with appropriately and respectfully’.

Saying that ‘changes have been made already’, a statement continued: ‘We have ensured our officers and staff have a refreshed understanding of the policy for conducting a ‘further search’, particularly around the requirement for an appropriate adult to be present.

‘We have also given officers advice around dealing with schools, ensuring that children are treated as children and considering safeguarding for those under 18.

‘More widely we have reviewed the policy for “further searches” for those aged under 18. This is to assure ourselves the policy is appropriate and also that it recognises the fact a child in these circumstances may well be a vulnerable victim of exploitation by others involved in gangs, County Lines and drug dealing. 

‘To ensure we have very clear control over this type of search, we have introduced new measures across the Met.

‘As well as requiring a discussion with their supervisor before seeking authority for a more thorough search and the presence of an appropriate adult, an inspector from a local command unit must now give authority before the search takes place to ensure appropriate oversight.

‘A Merlin report must also be submitted, to ensure safeguarding the child is the priority. The Merlin system contains information about a child coming to police attention.’

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Copycat

Summary:  

""Shitty four eyes and clean freak? Would you know what those words mean?" The teacher asked.

Hange and Levi exchanged knowing glances. A parent teacher conference wasn't at all the right place to explain nicknames. Really though, when would it ever be the appropriate time to explain them?"

Levi and Hange learn the hard way that children like to imitate.

Link: AO3

Notes: This has been on my WIPs for a while and I have a few other prompts for domestic verse pieces so will probably focus on them first hehe. Anyway, feedback is very much appreciated!

“Levi Ackerman and Hange Zoe…”

The teacher was looking through what could have been the class list. No, it definitely was a class list. They were in a parent teacher meeting, what else could it be.

With the way she was holding it though, it was difficult for Levi to sneak a peek at its contents. Eventually, he gave up and let his mind wander, his eyes soon followed. He spared a glance at Hange to see she had cocked her head just a little bit to the side. She was definitely as curious if not more curious about the contents of the piles of paper.

The teacher, Ms. Wilde had a smile on her face and it had been that way since Luke had started school. Her expression then wasn't too far from her usual smile but her eyes were too wide, her mouth too flat of a line especially when she bit her lips. And when she ran her eyes over documents, she seemed…. Stiff.

Uncomfortable? DIsturbed maybe? Levi was expecting the worst.

“Commander Hange Zoe and Retired Captain Levi Ackerman…” Ms. Wilde corrected, clearing her throat.

“No need for any formalities. I mean you have been taking care of our son…” Hange held one hand out for a hand shake, obviously trying to ease the tension in the room.

“Yes, he’s a pleasant kid,” Ms. Wilde added, nodding her head. The discomfort on her face still did not waver.

He is a pleasant kid. Levi was with that kid 24/7. He brought the kid to school and back home, he cooked breakfast, lunch and dinner and he taught him all chores possible at the ripe age of two. Levi was almost certain that along with it, he had taught the kid basic manners.

Levi had to admit though, he himself wasn’t the most diplomatic either. The kid though was glaringly much nicer than Levi was and on top of that, he had picked up some of his other quirks from Hange. The boy didn’t have to be exceptional though. At the least, Luke should have been a functioning member of the kindergarten.

Not enough to make a teacher squirm as she spoke about him. Right?

Most days… And as Levi reflected on it, he started to dig deeper into the past few years, the almost negligible cracks in between their routine. Was there anything he failed to teach Luke? Hange could have been asking the same thing, she looked at Levi questioningly.

Ms. Wilde cleared her throat and in her own way, she had broken some of the residual tension. “Apologies… I’ve been stalling.” She turned to Hange. “Commander Zoe…”

“Retired… Commander Zoe,” Hange corrected.

Was Hange stalling? Or just deliberately looking for a way to alleviate whatever tension had blanketed the room. Hange’s own corrections though were only delaying the inevitable, stretching the tension for longer than necessary.

“I wanted to talk to you about your son," Ms. Wilde started.

No shit. “Go on….” Levi said softly, not loud enough for her maybe. He subtly moved his hands in some signal to continue, as if that could have been communication enough.

Ms. Wilde stared for a bit longer and when Levi squinted, focusing on the paper underneath, he could tell it was a drawing, the crayon ink, visible from just behind the paper. She then put that same crayon art on the top of that stack of papers. “Shitty four eyes… and Clean freak?”

The words sounded strange from anybody else’s mouth, particularly a teacher who had attempted to say it with so professional of a tone and with emphasis on syllables and on words which made it sound unintelligible to anyone less familiar.

“Excuse me?” Hange asked. She had said those words a little too fast. With Levi thinking the same thing though, it had sounded clear enough.

Ms. Wilde flipped the paper open and down on the table.

There were two stick drawings, one with glasses and brown hair, definitely Hange and one with an apron and a bandana over his head and an unimpressed look on his face. That second one was definitely Levi.

Just below it, a caption which Levi had to squint twice to read

Shut tea for ice clean freek. It was straight out gibberish.

Ms. Wilde preempted it. “Would you know what this means?” She looked back up at them expectantly. “Your son… he tried to explain it to me and he said, you two would say… Shut tea for ice and clean freek.” She had said it with unexpected emphasis on some syllables and it was starting to sound like a glaringly familiar cluster of phrases.

Enough for Levi to freeze in his seat and start to dig for some sense in his speculations.

“Don’t get me wrong… Your child being able to spell at this age… It’s admirable, remarkable really,” Ms. Wilde continued. Was she consoling them or admiring them? With that soft and gentle of a voice, it was difficult to tell.

If Levi hadn’t been too busy trying to make sense of that last phrase maybe he would have at least attempted to read through her body language. The teacher had already presented a problem though and naturally, he found himself attempting to get to the bottom of that initial issue.

Luke had Hange’s brain. With Levi on top of that child most of the day, he was perfectly aware of what Luke would usually be playing with. He had gifted Luke letter tiles and had played with him multiple times, at Hange's suggestion of 'something more educational.'

He could have sworn the other times Hange had gotten off work and had played with those tiles with him before dinner, she had been teaching him herself. Although, some words were strange and unfamiliar, she never thought him any of those words. Never.

Levi looked back up at the teacher, forcing himself to meet her eyes. What was the best thing to say?

These are our nicknames. Nope. Should they be divulging something so personal in a professional meeting?

Maybe he could break that awkwardness by complimenting Luke’s work. For a three year old, Luke did a good job with the coloring. Or maybe Levi was just hyperaware about his dad status and somehow everything their little human made seemed almost surreal, almost beautiful even if it was just a bunch of stick figures.

Hange held the drawing between her fingers, her eyes wide with what looked to be the same wonder Levi was holding in. “We’ve been teaching him how to read,” Hange said. “Read and write.”

“But, would you know what ‘shut tea for ice’ means?” The teacher asked.

“Levi here… He really likes tea,” Hange said calmly. “And he likes it with ice.”

“What about clean freak?”

“He cleans with me a lot…” Levi said.

The teacher sighed. “Apologies for the misunderstanding but those words…” She leaned over, cupping her mouth, to soften to a whisper just for the three of them. “It sounds pretty vulgar to me. If you could talk to your son about it, so he could stop calling the other kids names… That would be very much appreciated.”

“Wait, our son, he’s calling people names?”

The teacher shrugged. “I heard him talking to one of the kids just recently… He kept calling her ‘shut tea for eyes.’ and just the other day, when we were cleaning up the locker… then he called her a cleen freek.” She sighed. “It might be just my imagination but it sounds to me like bullying if you know what I mean?”

“Bullying? How?” Hange asked. The knowing look in her face betrayed such a question.

“Well you see, Sarah wears glasses and she likes keeping her cubbyhole neat so… I can’t help but think he might actually be saying….”

“Shitty four eyes?” Levi repeated it again, with a familiar manner, all the emphasis on the right tones. He could almost taste the sweet venom that laced it every other time he said it before.

“And clean freak?” Hange repeated.

The teacher put her hands up in defense. “But that might just be my wild imagination. If ‘shut tea for ice’ is really code in your family, maybe you could spend some time explaining to your son what it actually sounds like?”

***

Shut tea for ice.

Levi could have been in denial. The first plan of action as soon as he got home was to open and close the cupboard a few times over and stare at the box of tea bags every single time. He was deep in thought, still trying to come up with any other reason for those words to roll so easily out of his son’s mouth.

“You want me to make dinner?” Hange called out from the living room.

Levi instinctively turned behind him and towards the voice, craning his neck to look past the kitchen counter. Hange was sitting cross legged on the floor, a toddler Luke right next to her.

The letter tiles Hange had scattered on the floor were an eye sore.

An eyesore which Levi tolerated. After all, Hange had done amazingly at making Luke one of the smarter toddlers in his class.

Experiment… Titan… Omnivore...Carnivore… Whether the child needed to know how to spell those words at that young of an age, Levi wasn’t too certain. At least if ever the classes shifted to topics on history or science, Luke would have the upper hand.

Or so, that was what Levi consoled himself with as he looked back at the cupboard, trying to erase that picture of a mess in the living room. His own experiences with playing with those blocks had been teaching Luke words like clean, broom, breakfast, lunch, dinner. For a second, he wondered which Luke enjoyed more.

“I’ll make it,” Levi said. “You’re at work most days. I’d rather you spent your free time bonding with Luke.”

Hange didn’t respond and the next few minutes passed with the clacking of the wooden letter tiles on the floor. And then an exchange which Levi felt almost compelled to insert himself in.

“When the creature eats both vegetables and meat…” Hange started.

“Omnivore,” Luke answered.

“And meat only?”

“Carnivore.” He had learned to repeat those words clearly very quickly. Levi had to note as he tipped the tea, Luke had always learned to pronounce the more complex words within a few repeats.

The inquisitiveness and the natural genius came from Hange for sure. And Hange was only nurturing them. Soon, the conversation shifted to animals, and then to titans and why the fuck was she talking about her goddamn experiments?

Even when half listening, Levi never understood what the hell that one experiment after capturing the titan and burning through its hair actually did but Hange was suddenly talking about follicles, roots and some catalytic reaction.

Would Luke know what a catalytic reaction is? Levi attempted to answer it for himself by first asking, what the hell a catalytic reaction was. Whatever slate that had appeared in his mind remained blank and he asked another question. Should a child really be learning those words?

“And you know what a dinosaur looks like?” Hange asked.

“Dinosaur!”

A rustle of papers. Hange muttered something about a pencil.

Found one! Then the sound of scribbling on paper.

Levi was only starting to boil the soup, when whatever conversation on whether dinosaurs were omnivores or carnivores slipped one ear and out the other.

The padding of socks on the carpeted floor, Hange’s hums and just Luke’s high pitched voice lisping at some words, saying lines which could have started with Rs or Ws were faint and Levi found himself passing the time just listening to them as he stirred the soup.

He bent over, pulling out the tray of baked chicken from the oven. “Hange,” he called out.

Hange took a second longer than necessary to respond. “Hm?”

“Set the table,” Levi said. “It’s almost dinner time.”

No response. No clicking of plates, no slamming of utensils on the table.

“Hange?” Levi asked.

“Wait, just this last page,’ Hange said louder.

Levi closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Hange was murmuring, words Levi couldn’t make sense of. And the lisping words, the mispronounced Rs and Ws and garbled syllables were telling. Luke was reading something out loud.

“That’s right! So, the plants eat through photosynthesis," Hange said.

“Hange, set the table,” Levi said.

Hange sighed in response. There were footsteps then the clack of plates.

Levi soon confirmed for himself that Hange had stood up, tiptoed and pulled a serving plate and a bowl from the upper cupboard. He transferred the roast chicken and the soup onto the plates. While it cooled, he took the bread basket and dropped it on the table, raising one eye at the view in front of him.

“Hange,” Levi said, louder this time.

Hange was back in the living room, cross legged once again, an open picture book in front of her. Luke had shifted to half lying down position, stomach down on the floor, propped up by the elbows.

“Are dinosaurs real?” Lukei asked.

Hange nodded. “They were alive a long time ago,” she said.

“Hey, you two. I said, let’s eat.” Levi found himself looking away as he noticed Luke’s mouth twist into a pout.

Hange sighed in disappointment. “Alright Luke, let’s stand up.” She carefully pulled her son up and guided him back to the table. She moved sluggishly towards the dining room table and it looked very much like Levi had virtually twisted her arm just to get her up.

To make things clear though, he didn’t. There were more pressing things at that moment than making sure the food he worked so hard on was eaten. Levi stared at them then back at the scattered letter tiles on the floor. Then back at Hange again.

The years might have just made it easier for Hange to pick up the silent question just with a few glances. “We’re gonna go back after we eat,” she answered,

“And you’re fine leaving a mess like that there,” Levi said. “What if someone trips on that?”

“Well, we won’t. Luke and I know that it’s there and you can just watch where you’re going right?”

“It’s still a hazard,” Levi argued.

“A negligible hazard.”

“Can’t you just clean it up then bring it out again later?”

“It takes time,” Hange answered nonchalantly as she walked past Levi.

For a retired commander with a full-time job rebuilding Paradis, time felt like a luxury more than disposable income did and Levi had only ever silently acknowledged that. The moment he looked back, he realized there wasn’t much he could have argued about. Hange guided Luke to his chair, and she started to pour the soup into his bowl.

Levi sat next to Hange and served Hange first then himself, a pressing distraction, long enough for Levi to need not look back at the mess on the floor.

“Luke, chickens look a little bit like dinosaurs,” Hange said.

Levi rolled his eyes. Most of their meals usually ended up as a science lesson.

Luke seemed to be enjoying it though. He clapped his hands excitedly. “We’re eating dinosaurs?”

In response to that, Levi shoveled more of the soup into his mouth, enough to give any excuse not to speak up. That wasn’t his conversation. It was Hange’s and Luke’s.

“Technically yes,” Hange said.

What the fuck is she researching this time? Hange did too many jobs at once that Levi never could catch up to her theory or vernacular wise.

“Like the book! The dinosaur looked like the book!” Luke said excitedly.

“Yes! You remember!” Hange mirrored that same excitement.

“Are dinosaurs like titans?”

“Technically no… They can be the same size... “

“Are titans omnivores?”

Hange hummed. She dropped her spoon and put one finger to her chin, a very climactic sequence of motions that could have meant she had something interesting to say. To the disappointment of everyone in the family, she returned the question with one word. “Maybe.”

They don’t eat. Levi added to himself silently.

“Do titans poo?” Luke pressed.

Hange opened her mouth to speak. “They don’t…”

And Levi only had a split second to note the glimmer in her eyes, then the wonder that could have come from reminiscing nights worth of experiments. Then the familiar excitement and passion he had seen so many times before in the barracks over tea.

Oh no. He looked back at the soup, a mixture of beans and tomatoes, the green of the vegetables sticking out at very strategic places.

What the fuck.

And Hange’s tirade only continued, and naturally Levi’s mind made sense of the words having had too many direct experiences with titans to last a lifetime. If he looked at his own soup from the right angle, with the right vegetable bits in the right places and the right lighting from just above them, he realized it looked just like vomit.

He was in a frustrating position, hungry but with no more appetite. He pushed himself up. “You two just keep talking. I’m gonna clean up.”

Hange stood up. “Wait, Levi where you going?”

Everything was just suddenly pissing Levi off at that moment. “I’m cleaning up your fucking mess.”

“That’s not a mess!” Hange retorted, an incredulous look on her face.

“I told you, just bring it out after if you wanna play again!” Levi bent over, and started to mix the blocks amongst one another. Words like carnivore, omnivore, photosynthesis, follicle suddenly mixed among one another. The tiles were suddenly gibberish, letter soup. And the more he mixed, the worse it became.

It became easier to put them into the basket.

“We were planning to go back to it after dinner. You didn’t have to clean it up,” Hange chided.

“Well, you two might step on it,” Levi said.

“Really?” Hange raised one eyebrow. “You can’t watch where you’re going?”

“Listen Hange, I’m the one who cleans this house ninety percent--- hell, a hundred percent of the time. I decide what messes we can leave around.”

“Well, it takes a kid a while to pick up the words, we were supposed to practice reading.”

“Hange a three year old does not need to know what photosynthesis means.”

“Three and a half,” Hange clarified. “A child his age does not need to live in an immaculate environment.” Clean. Hange definitely meant clean. The way she had said the word ‘immaculate,' the fact that she had chosen such a heavenly word, an almost self righteous sounding word felt almost mocking. “Why do you have to be such a clean freak about this?”

“Why do you have to be such a nerd about this. He’ll learn how to read big words at his own fucking time,” Levi said. He noted the way Hange had put one hand to her chest, seeming scandalized at whatever insinuation Levi had brought up.

When he was dealing with the someone who couldn’t bat an eye at hygiene and clutter, who suddenly thought the pursuit of knowledge was a must have for a poor four year old, Levi wasn’t feeling too guilty at offending her, at least not too much. He opened his mouth, only intending to let it out as a release born from quiet anger. And during moments of heightened emotions, sometimes he lost a little control, and sometimes, he’d fall back to very familiar habits.

Shitty four eyes.

Hange could have heard it, but they had said it so many times before, that she didn’t open her mouth to speak. He couldn’t be too sure either that he had said it out loud.

“Daddy? You want tea with ice?”

Levi only realized then, when the silence broke and a young Luke went in between them a mug in hand.

No hot water, no tea bag. A look of confusion on Luke’s face. ‘Daddy, shut tea for ice?” The words were stilted, the syllables garbled against one another.

Levi and Hange had both looked at Luke with the same surprised look, surprised but very very understanding of the current situation.

***

Shitty four eyes.

Luke didn’t have a potty mouth. Or at least, he wasn’t supposed to.

Levi was with Luke the most among everyone. The heavy responsibility of 'main provider' on his back, he found himself thinking back to every single ‘alone time,’ the two of them had since Luke had been old enough to talk. It had been a year at least since Luke had started to seem more like a companion than a responsibility. When Levi looked back at it though, he thought the moments to be countless and consequently, he had found it difficult to point out the exact point in time where Luke had thought it a good idea to blurt out the words ‘shitty four eyes.’

Coming up with no conclusion, he desperately grasped for a glimmer of an explanation. “Luke’s a nice kid, he wouldn’t call people names,”

“I don’t doubt that,” Hange responded, seeming not at all bothered by the chain of events.

“Hey, we’re still gonna have to explain that to Luke?”

“You tried a while ago, right?” Hange asked “What did Luke say?”

“He just kept repeating it… Shut tea for ice. Shut tea for ice.” Levi whispered in response, letting it get softer and softer on his tongue. It had been just an hour before they had put their son to bed. The conference, the incident just a while ago suddenly had self conscious about how loud they were talking and how close the bedroom door was to the living room. He turned to the sofa and sat a few more feet away from the door, as if that could have done anything to make their conversation more private.

“So Levi, what do you think that means?” Hange asked. She had moved next to him, as if she understood Levi’s intention with switching seats.

“He didn’t seem hostile,” Levi said.

“So he doesn’t think what he’s saying is bad right?”

“He called you shitty four eyes too.” Levi turned to Hange.

“And shitty four eyes has never been an insult to me. You’ve been calling him that since before,” Hange said.

“So what do you suggest?” Levi asked.

Hange was in deep thought for a second, one hand to her chin. She turned to the phone on the kitchen counter. “Calling someone more experienced maybe.”

***

Historia had a child, a good few years past the terrible twos and threes. Naturally, she seemed almost nonchalant about that problem.

“Imitation,” Hange said so confidently, yet so abruptly that morning as she sipped her coffee. She turned to Levi and grinned in the same exact way she would have dropped a research-backed theory many years ago when she was still a titan researcher.

“Titans used to imitate right?” Levi said. Mentioning the magic word ‘titans’ could be enough to pull any good ideas out of her.

“Yes, I know,” Hange said matter-of-factly. “And titans and humans are a little different… It would be easier to have a peaceful conversation with titans. Luke understands me almost perfectly. And you too. I think we can talk to him first about why using nicknames is bad.”

“You think a three year old can understand a convoluted explanation by Hange Zoe?”

“Three and a half,” Hange clarified again. If he can tell omnivores and carnivores apart, I’m sure he can tell the difference between calling people names and respecting people right?” She propped her mug on the dining room table and looked expectantly at Levi.

Levi averted his gaze. “Hange, do you think a three and a half year old will get it?” He dropped the tea bag into the mug and watched as the darker liquid consumed the water, touching the rims of the mug. He walked back to the dining table, settling himself on the chair right in front of Hange.

Hange chuckled. “Worth a try right?”

“Daddy! Shoes!” Luke was painfully demanding. And of all moments, it had been then that Levi noticed that Luke had picked up some of their attitude.

Right. Although Luke could easily get ready for school himself, tying shoes was still something Levi had been in the process of teaching him. “I’ll just help him tie his shoes first.”

“I’ll go ahead.” Hange gulped the last few drops of coffee. “Gonna be late for work. You think you can handle this?”

“Talk to Luke right?” Levi asked. “About the importance of respect?” He had put emphasis on those last three words, as if to hint to Hange that introducing such an abstract idea to a three year old seemed like not so good of an idea.

“Worth a try right?” Hange responded as she stood up and slung her back over her shoulder.

“And if it doesn’t work?” Levi pressed.

By then, Hange was already closer to the door than the dining table, far from hearing range of Levi’s naturally soft voice. Levi felt it pointless to say it louder, especially since by then, Hange had already slammed the door behind her.

And he had bigger fish to deal with, like a frustrated son, who had knotted the laces of his shoes enough times that Levi struggled to find the tips. “Luke… Why… Did you do it like this?” Levi had to resist the sweet temptation of inserting a ‘fuck’ somewhere on that question. After all, it wasn’t Luke’s fault he was just a three year old who was still learning the ropes.

The process of unknotting a very tight knot though was painful, frustrating enough for Levi to sit down crosslegged in front of his son. It was taking longer than a few seconds, enough to have a conversation.

“Luke… The school told me about ‘shut tea for ice’”Levi started and when he started to pull at the top most knot, he felt some sort of release with it, some extra reserves of patience he could easily tap at.

“Shitty four eyes! Clean Freak!” Luke responded happily.

When Levi looked up and met his son’s eyes, he couldn’t help but be somewhat bothered by the knowing and confident look. “You shouldn’t call people names Luke.” He put one finger right in front of Luke’s face.

Was that how to tell a kid off? Levi had been working with Luke long enough though to know, Luke didn’t understand what he was saying. Or maybe he didn’t understand what Levi meant.

What would Hange say? When Levi reflected on that though, the only thing he could salvage were her rants on photosynthesis and titan experiments. If their son understood those, he should understand a lecture on respect right?

“No.” One word Levi had learned as a parent. “No calling people names,” he added, his voice softer that time.

Luke pouted.

Levi had a soft spot for his son’s pout and consequently, he did what any sane parent would have done in that situation. He stared at the clock. Fifteen minutes before class starts. He stood up and took his son by the hand. “Come on Luke, let’s go to school.”

On the way to school, he allowed himself another session for self reflection. Imitation huh? Levi thought to himself. He had to admit, he may have called Hange ‘shitty four eyes’ more often than not and in return, he may have brushed off a few ‘clean freaks’ from Hange as well.

They could try to wean Luke out of it right or at least find out why Luke had been using it at school? He could leave that to Hange though, and maybe consult a bit with their teacher.

Levi took a deep breath, a loud one, particularly when they passed through one of the less saturated parts of town on the way to school. He was sure he had enough reserves at his already scarce social battery to deal with asking advice from teachers.

***

Same advice as Historia.

Children were master imitators. And whether a three year old (or a three and a half year old according to Hange) would understand such an abstract concept as respect, that was one thing they weren’t sure of.

So when dealing with a toddler, play with their imitator side, not this belief that they might actually understand an abstract concept.

Levi had repeated those same words to Hange. By that evening though, he had forgotten half of it, and he had hoped that was the message she got.

“So, we should change how we talk to each other then…” Hange leaned back on the sofa. “But when do you think Luke heard us say it?”

Levi shrugged. “When do you say it?”

In return, Hange shrugged and let out a short laugh. “To be honest, I don’t remember calling you a clean freak either.”

“When we fight?” Levi suggested.

“Or when we don’t?” Hange put her hands up. “Anyway, the important thing is, he hears us say it. That kid won’t get shitty four eyes or clean freak out of anywhere. So we watch ourselves okay? No using bad words in front of our son.”

“That’s easy.” Levi narrowed his eyes at Hange and sat back on the sofa. “I’ve been doing that ever since Luke was born.”

***

With a little more self-introspection and blatant awareness of his surroundings, Levi started to realize it wasn’t as easy as he had expected it to be. He had stopped himself enough times that his throat had been sore from the many times he concealed his own penchant for vulgarity with a dry cough.

“Luke, make sure to put your bag back in the room,” Levi said from the kitchen as he pulled an apple from the fruit basket. It was just like every other day before, pick Luke up, prepare an afternoon snack. Very routine, very predictable and the only thing that made it a challenge had been the heavy awareness that Levi did curse on a regular basis.

Or maybe just the fact that he had to watch himself, had him very very heavy, as if every move had to be cold and calculated.H e was a little more careful than usual with cutting the apple. And he was terribly terribly slow. By the time, he turned back to the kitchen counter, sliced apples arranged neatly on the plate, Luke had already settled on the seat in front of him, looking expectantly at the plate on Levi’s hands.

How long he had been there? Levi didn’t want to ask. “Are you hungry?” he asked instead.

Luke nodded. It was a stupid question, but at least his son was too young to judge his ineloquence.

He dropped the pile of apples in front of him and made himself comfortable on the seat next to his son. “After this, you wanna play with the tiles?” Levi offered.

But never freak. Levi told himself as even the prospect of teaching his kid was starting to weigh on him.

“Let’s play with the tiles!” Luke clapped one hand on the table, and he shoved one of the apples into his mouth.

“Okay, I’ll bring it out later,” Levi said. He took one apple from the plate and started to munch on it, only interrupted by the sound of the phone ringing a few seconds later.

Most days, the phone ringing was a nuisance, peppered with conversations with salesmen, customer service. Having grown up with a place with no phone, but too many scams, it was only natural that Levi would detect the opportunity for scams in that new fangled piece of technology.

There was one voice which always made the process of using the phone though, bearable, if not pleasurable.

“Levi! What’s for dinner tonight?”

“Four eyes, you’re out from work early.”

There was a pause, a pregnant and awkward pause. Then Hange spoke up. “Is Luke with you?”

The silence and that one question spoke for him. Levi spun around to see Luke, staring right at him. “Four eyes… Shitty...Four eyes?” The young boy repeated. It sounded rehearsed the first time around, then confident the second time.

There was a lot he had to teach the kid.

“Just take out food for dinner. Luke and I will have a long talk,” Levi said.

***

Levi’s mind was a blank slate. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing though.

Whatever he was supposed to say to lecture Luke on proper respect lasted at the most, a few seconds in his muddled brain. It went into one ear and quickly out the other.

Somewhere along the way, Levi had given up. He had mentioned words like ‘respect,’ ‘not nice.’ When he didn’t even believe half of what he had spewing out of his mouth, he ended up unable to blame Luke for wearing such a blank expression.

Would Hange have done a better job at teaching Luke? Maybe.

Levi had never been the most diplomatic person, having sat at the sidelines every time Hange had been negotiating trade contracts and war treaties. Besides, he didn’t believe it completely necessary either to teach children not to curse.

There were bigger fish to fry, like rebuilding a war torn country, eradicating poverty and starvation, income inequality and terrorism.

Having lived like a soldier his whole life, dealing with something so mundane as a teacher’s request to teach his child not to curse, seemed almost mundanely unnecessary.

When his son was insulting other children, when a teacher was telling his son off for it, Levi didn’t necessarily find it horrifying. School rules were school rules though and their new society made compliance for three year olds a big issue. Maybe he could leave that educating to Hange though, and just focus maybe on teaching the young boy how to read.

He rearranged the letters and a few times, he gave free rein to his son to form words himself.

There were easy words like ‘dog,’ ‘cat,’ and ‘cow.’ Although Levi had been surprised that Luke had independently put together more complex words like ‘broom’ and ‘clean,’ he started to accept anyway, that it was only natural that the young boy would know them. After all, Hange had been teaching him more complex words like ‘photosynthesis,’ ‘omnivore’ and ‘carnivore.’

Luke had been spelling all those words on his own while Levi watched silently. And when Levi started to scramble the pieces again, just to watch what his son would create, he started to notice some pattern.

Shut

“Shut!” Luke screamed. He didn’t completely open his mouth though, and it started to sound more like another cursed word. Levi wasn’t going to mention that though.

“Shut…” Levi explained. Like ‘Shut up.’ ‘Shut up’ wasn’t the most diplomatic expression and it was probably better not to teach his son that at such a young age. “Like shut the door,” Levi added a second later. He mimed the act of slamming a door closed, suddenly self conscious of how rude it probably would be to slam a door. Was Luke going to start slamming doors if he made his movements too forceful?

Ice

“Ice!” Luke read aloud.

“Ice…” Levi paused for a second, racking his brain for the best way to explain it without having to go for the refrigerator and risk making a mess on their matted living room floor. “The cold thing…”

Four

“Four!”

“The number,” Technically there were two words ‘four’ and ‘for.’ What do you call those filler words? How do you define the word for? Levi realized then, there were only too many ways he could explain what words like ‘for,’ ‘to,’ were used for. He could just leave that to the school to explain.

Tea

“Tea!”

“Te---”

“Daddy likes tea!” Luke started. His face fell. “Right?”

In shock, Levi didn’t even notice he had frozen still, his hand dropping the tile. He nodded. “Yeah I like tea.” He allowed himself a tight lipped grin as he adjusted the letters just to make his son’s final product a little neater. “I really like tea.”

“Shitty four eyes?” His son said again, his excitable tone from a while ago unwavering.

That’s a bad word. Levi wanted to say. That’s disrespectful. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else though. After all, his son was a bundle of innocence, a bundle of excitement. Did Luke even know what the hell he had been saying?

Levi was pathetic. He was weakshit. And he couldn’t even bring himself to disciplining his child on something he personally didn’t even believe in. He continued to reflect on it as he rearranged the letters again. Then he further wallowed in whatever guilt settled in him as he stood up and walked towards the kitchen. As he prepared dinner, then washed the dishes.

When Hange came home, he at least had been ready enough to speak. “I think he’s too young to understand,” Levi said.

“Well a three and a half year old would have a hard time understanding abstract ideas right?”

“Says the parent who’s teaching a three year old science.”

Hange pouted. “Science is not an abstract concept.”

“That’s not the point,” Levi said firmly. He knew if he didn’t interrupt Hange there, she probably would have gone on another tirade. “Do you have any ideas? On how to deal with this?”

“I have one,” Hange said. “I was talking to Historia just today, and some other parents…” She propped her chin on the palm of her hand. “Have you considered… Aside from just laying off, the shitty four eyes first? And I’ll lay off the clean freak? I mean, the kids apparently, at this age, they like to imitate and if we just be more careful about what we’re saying and try to say something nicer, more positive as nicknames. He should stop right?”

“We’ve been calling each other for years,” Levi commented.

“But, not in public right?” Hange said. “You never really said it during meetings.”

“Well those were meetings.”

“Think of this as a meeting, except this time, our son is probably listening to us every single time.” She frowned, wrinkled her nose and looked behind her. Just on the other side of the wall was Luke’s bedroom. It was late at night and he probably was asleep.

But with their conversations and Luke's tendency to pick things up, it only proved that the walls may have been too thin and their son may have been very observant.

Levi raised his eyebrows. “So you’re saying…”

Hange nodded. No clean freak. No shitty four eyes. AT ALL. She spelled out those nicknames slowly and carefully, just so their son wouldn't’ pick the words up, taking in the small possibility that he was awake.

Levi sighed. “Fine.” He wasn’t fine. Their home was supposed to be their private space. Luke would be a sponge for information but a stranger to logic and abstract concepts for the next two years.

Letting go of such an intimate habit born through years in the survey corps just to please the teachers and to make it easier for their son fit in, seemed almost unfair. He sought solace at least in Hange’s forced grin. She didn’t want to do it either.

We suffer together. Levi thought to himself. With a quick glance at her, Levi was sure Hange understood. Making it an issue of pride and misery made it all together a more bearable challenge.

***

It was bearable at least. And it took a little more careful introspection to pick up those few moments he had called Hange 'shitty four eyes' or ‘four eyes’ and he started to realize, it had been more difficult to point out than his own abrasive choice of words and his own vulgarity.

Shitty four eyes after all, never seemed like a string of curse words or insults. It was a pet name, so invisibly embedded in conversations that Levi felt strangely incomplete not peppering his dialogue with it.

Hange seemed to struggle as well. Clean freak. She used to say. She had started to replace it with something more diplomatic. “You really like cleaning huh?” A few syllables longer but it felt terribly, terribly unnatural. And Hange always accompanied it with the widest and most cringe inducing grin.

Every single time, Levi would look away, to stop himself from laughing or grimacing, one of those. Hange must have been doing the same though.

Shitty four eyes.

He had replaced ‘shitty four eyes’ with the closest thing he could come up with. It had taken some strict observation from other couples to pick up the best one. “Yes honey, I really love cleaning,” Levi admitted. He put enough emphasis on the pet name, hoping that would at least teach their child about proper pet naming conventions, the importance of ‘not cursing’ and just conventional diplomacy.

Hange was only making it harder to take the challenge seriously, a sardonic grin constantly plastered on her face. Every single time, he had called her honey, she looked away and cleared her throat, or let out a wracked cough, a good disguise for what he guessed had been a laugh.

A shoddy disguise but somehow, it seemed to work. Luke would watch them every time, his stare far from blank. He had on the same face he made every single time he would form those words with the blocks. Luke was deep in thought. “Shitty four eyes! Clean freak!” He said a second later.

Luke would then repeat that many few times over dinner or breakfast.

Imitation. Levi would tell himself, will himself to ignore Luke’s words. As painfully uncharacteristic as it was. Levi would trod on with his mission. “Honey, you want more bread?” Levi tried to make that one word seem as sweet as it sounded. He never got the practice though, so he wondered if he ever had the innate ability to make any words sound sweet.

“Thank you honey,” Hange responded, her grin much wider. A split second later, she looked away, seeming ashamed with herself.

Levi couldn’t blame Hange. It was a painful rendition, her tone seemed very much rehearsed. And when it was common knowledge between them that she was naturally more eloquent than he was, Levi found himself wondering how bad he sounded.

As long as Luke learns. Levi willed himself to swallow whatever embarrassment and stifling sensation came with the slow and excruciating weaning process from very intimate habits.

Luke eventually picked it up. “Ho...ney?” he repeated as his eyes darted between his two parents.

Yes. Honey. Levi nodded.

Luke’s face fell, his expression shifted from something curious, then something confused. Ending with something that could have been a hint of crestfallenness.

Levi couldn’t be too sure though. The boy looked down at his food and Levi couldn’t bring himself to crane his neck and sneak a glance to confirm it. The drooping shoulders of his son was enough to get his stomach turning though.

How long would it take for him to get used to it? Three weeks? Months? Eventually Luke should get used to it… Right?

It was one of those rare days where Hange had decided to work from home. Her piles of paperwork took up more than half their dining table and food would seem more like a hazard than a necessity.

When Hange was only present during weekends, Levi at the least, tolerated it.

On one condition, he was allowed to straighten out the almost two foot tall pile everytime he passed by the dining room in between household chores. When Hange was deep into hundreds of pages worth of reports though, she didn’t look like she minded Levi’s silent interruptions.

“What time are you picking Luke up from school?” Hange asked.

Levi looked at the clock. “He gets out of school at two today,” he answered. It was eleven, and half his mind was already looking into planning lunch.

“Okay,” Hange said, her focus fell back to the paperwork.

It wasn’t anything new, even on weekends or any other day Hange was home, Levi did most of the cooking and cleaning. Hange’s presence did manage to take some of the load off household management off of his shoulders.

Answering the phone was no exception.

Most days, Levi was capable of doing it on his own. When the vegetables were boiling on a pot, the pasta heating in the oven just below it, Hange offered to answer the phone.

“Zoe residence… Speaking…” Hange had always been better at answering the phone anyway. “Luke?”

Levi’s ears perked up at that. He lowered the heat of the stove, as if that would have done anything to make the conversation clear.

“What? Why? No… We’re not.” Hange’s voice was racked with surprise. “....You’re right. We’ll get there soon… We can leave now… We’re not too busy….”

Hange? Not busy? Levi had turned off the stove. Lunch never was the most urgent thing. “You’re going to school?”

“It’s about Luke.”

No shit. “I can tell that much from the conversation,” Levi said. “What happened?”

“He just started crying apparently…” Hange said.

Levi sensed the urgency in the speed at which she pulled her coat over her and retied her hair. “Crying over?” Levi pressed. Luke rarely cried and just that thought had Levi’s heart pounding.

“When the teachers were explaining… Luke was crying about… his parents… About us?”

“Your son said, you two ‘’didn’t love each other anymore’” the headmaster explained. It had been just them in the office but with the way the headmaster had explained it, it looked like she could have been quoting Luke word per word.

Levi surreptitiously flashed Hange a look of confusion, a glance just to see if she knew anything.

She seemed as lost as he was. “Can we talk to our son?” Hange asked.

“Before that, I just wanted to discuss the family situation first… See if we could do anything to support Luke through this?”

“Through what?”

“Through your ‘separation?’”

Levi turned to Hange, his eyes wide. We’re separating?

Hange furrowed her brows at him, an incredulous look. She turned abruptly back at the principal. “Who told you we’re separating?”

“Your son said you two have been fighting a lot. And he seemed very affected...”

“Fighting?” Levi asked. Are we?

No we aren’t. Hange’s expression said it all. “If there’s any misunderstanding, we can explain it to Luke ourselves.”

“You have to understand. We have our students welfare in mind. If we believe that your son is being raised in an unsuitable environment…”

“Excuse me?” Hange put one hand to her chest. Her tone was slipping to something with more emotion than any attempt at compromise.

“Just let us talk to our son,” Levi said. The echo of his own voice sounded unfamiliar in that small voice, especially since Hange had done the talking the whole time.

“We’ve been hearing as well about the vulgarities your son has been spouting...” the headmaster said.

“Yes, we’ve been working on it,” Levi said firmly, with every intention to interrupt the old lady.

“I’d like first some verbal commitment from both of you at least to work on this? We treat every child here like part of the family. With the case on Luke’s word usage and his suddenly bursting into tears in school… It looks like his home environment might not be ideal.”

“Can you let us talk to our son please?” Levi said. He turned to Hange. The brunette had fallen silent yet she seemed very much deep in thought.

“Could you please explain though from your end the debacle about the ‘shitty four eyes’ and the ‘clean freak?”

“We’re working on it,” Levi repeated. Somehow, it was getting harder and harder to sit still.

The condescending look in the woman’s face, the accusing glare wasn’t making it any easier. “But have you been working hard on it? Can I ask what is causing you to employ such vulgarity in your own home, in an environment for children?”

Since when did schools in Paradis get this vigilant about children’s home lives? It was a welcome change at least but Levi was in no mood to ponder the benefits of such an arrangement. “With all due respect ma’am, that’s none of your goddamn business.”

Levi could have just made it worse. And Hange said so herself, in between a stifled grin and a stifled chuckle.

If his own treatment of the very snobby principal could have done anything to convince the whole school that they were shitty parents. He was confident at least, Luke would defend them.

I mean a three year old should be capable of defending their parents right?

A three and a half year old. Hange’s words echoed in his head. If the ‘half year’ of living did anything to make Luke anymore aware of what exactly was going on, he prayed it did work.

Whether it was because he was three and a half or he was merely three, he seemed to have understood. A flash of recognition as they locked eyes along the hallways, Luke still let go of the Ms. Wilde's hand and ran towards them.

By some instinctive need to prove something maybe, Levi clutched Hange’s hand. She gripped back.

Luke seemed to have noticed it. “No fighting?”

“Fighting? Who said we’re fighting?” Hange bent down and patted her son on the head with her free hand.

A wide grin on his face, Luke turned to Hange. “Shitty four eyes.” Then to Levi. “Clean freak.”

Levi bent down, right next to Hange. “Yes, this is my shitty four eyes,” Levi said as he put one hand on Hange’s head, pulling her close.

“And this is my clean freak,” Hange pointed a finger to her left, towards Levi.

Something felt natural and intimate and something tasted sweeter than honey when he was saying those words again, words he had kept nill for months.

The grin in Luke’s face only made the release all the sweeter. “Shitty four eyes and clean freak!” Soon, he was running back to the teacher that had called out to him. He still had a few more hours of school.

“I guess we’ve been pretty careless about the nicknames huh?” Hange whispered wryly. “He’s probably just too young to understand what ‘shitty’ or what ‘freak’ could imply in any other situation.”

Levi stared ahead, at the young boy who was talking to the teacher in whatever childish babble the three year old could manage. “You know, the nicknames never felt like an insult to me.”

“I mean, we have been using them since we’ve met right? It just slips off our tongue every now and then,” Hange said as she let out a soft chuckle.

Every now and then. No a lot more often, than every now and then. To the point that Levi never felt it when it happened. Yet the absence of such words were painfully glaring.

“What are we going to do now about Luke’s language?” Levi averted his gaze, perfectly aware that if Luke had learned anything, it had probably been from his father.

“Have you ever taught him what the words ‘shitty’ or ‘freak’ meant?”

“Never,” Levi said.

“Then maybe we don’t have to think too much about it?” Hange suggested.

But it continued to nag. After all, the teachers continued to stare, probably whispering. Levi and Hange spent the last few hours before school ended just sitting by the courtyard of the school and they had more than enough evidence by then to be sure, teachers were talking.

When the bell rang, they found themselves attempting to brush away whispers and glares from the teacher, instead focusing on the hallways which were starting to fill with toddlers and kids.

And eventually, they found Luke, next to him a young girl in pig tails, with glasses. She wore a blouse and a skirt without a single crease on them. “This is my shitty four eyes… And my Clean freak!” Luke said. The girl next to him waved her hand, a wide grin on her face, not at all fazed by the words ‘shitty’ or ‘freak.’

Levi exchanged a knowing glance with Hange. No other words were shared between them but somehow they both understood. Maybe adults were just overthinking that very simple thing called language.

[ltwilliammowett]

Captain Ogle vs. Black Bart 1722

Fore more than two years, the pirate Bartholomew Roberts aka Black Bart or in Welsh Barti Ddu, had cruised the waters of the Atlantic and Caribbean. Born John Roberts in Wales in 1682 and at sea since the age of 13, he was captured by pirates in 1719 while serving as second mate on a slave ship and served on a pirate ship ever since. He quickly became captain and is said to captured over 100 ships (rumors said that it were over 400) , including a Portuguese treasure galleon.

Captain Bartho. Roberts with two Ships, the Royal Fortune and Ranger, takes in Sail in Whydah Road on the Coast of Guiney, January 11th. 1721/2. in : A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates, London: T. Warner, pp. plate facing p. 202

By January 1722 he had arrived at Whydah with his small fleet of three ships, on the coast of West Africa, and captured 11 more ships- all slavers. Then his luck ran out. On 5 February a ship appeared off Whydah, and Roberts sent his smaller consort Great Ranger out to investigate. The newcomer fled over the horizon and the pirate ship gave chase. Then, out of sight of land, the stranger turned round and gave battle. Much to the surprise of the pirates. She turned to be the 50-gun warship HMS Swallow commanded by Captain Challoner Ogle. The Swallow captured the Great Ranger after a two hour battle, and locked the survivors of her priate crew in the forecastle.

Black Barts fleet, by Andy Horse (x)

Ogle returned to Cape Lopez some five days after the original sighting. Robert's flagship, the Royal Fortune was still there at anchor with the Little Ranger and another, The Neptune. According to the admiralty Royal Fortune made a break for open water passing Swallow allowing Ogle to get off a broadside as she went by. A short running battle began with a single broadside from Swallow and saw Roberts fatally injured with grapeshot wound to his throat. They claim the crew threw his body over-board before surrendering. Bartholomew Robert's body was not recovered.

Bartholomew Roberts, by Carlos Alfredo Hablitzel (1919-1988), depicts the feared pirate captain's greatest exploit, the attack on the Portuguese galleon "Sagrada Família" in the Bay of Todos-os-Santos in 1719. Collection of the Museu Marítimo de Santos.

However, eyewitnesses report some strange things happened that February morning at Cape Lopez. To begin with, the pirates had excellent intelligence on the Swallow, one of her crewmen had deserted, joining Royal Fortune so they had insider knowledge of how well she performed and they could identify her. The pirates knew they were much faster and could easily have out run her.

Five different flags used by Black Bart during his career, by Orem and RootOfAllLight . The first two are known to have been his flags. The other three are based on reports from Johnson's General History of the Pirates 1724 and Boston Gazette, 22nd August 1720.  On the morning of the 10th, after first sighting the Swallow the pirates had over an hour to effect an escape but Roberts seemed unbothered. Rather, he sat eating his breakfast of Salamungrundy (pickled fish), thus allowing the Swallow  to get so close that an engagement was inevitable. Then, once underway the pirates did not rig Royal Fortune to run even though they knew they were out-gunned so a speedy get-away was their best option.

A Most Notorious Pyrate, Black Bart Roberts in the Royal Fortune, by Patrick O’Brien (x) 

That's not all, there were some very unusual things reported on board Royal Fortune that morning. Bart didn't breakfast alone, he had a guest, one Captain Hill, master of the Neptune. Strangely the Neptune was not detained and searched by Ogle who allowed her to get clean away.

The death of Bartholomew Roberts (1682 - 1722), by C.R. (x)

Back to the appropriate thing to do, Ogle had all the men taken as prisoners and captured the gold-laden Little Ranger. The pirates were locked up in Cape Coast Castle and 54 of them were hanged in late April 1722. The rest were either sold into slavery or deported to the West Indies. This event went down in history as the greatest pirate trial.

Captain Chaloner Ogle was rewarded with a knighthood 1723, the only British naval officer to be honoured specifically for his actions against pirates. He also profited financially, taking gold dust from Roberts' cabin, and he became an admiral. Sir Challoner Ogle died in London in 1750.

[oneshotnewbie]

We need to know what happens with B!D and Alex after coughing blood 😱

A/N: Your wish is my command! :) ♥ --- When you got to the emergency room, you were separated from your sister. While she was talking to the doctor about what had happened, you were immediately placed in one of the treatment rooms and wired to the monitor by a nurse. A vein access was also placed and blood was taken from you without a holding hand by Alex or Kara to your suffering.

The monitor next to you beeped incessantly and the kidney bowl filled with blood with every choke and displaced breath. The doctor must also have heard it from the outside so that he and Alex stormed in and looked questioningly at the screen. "Her saturation is at 80%, the body's gas exchange is bad for her age and shouldn't be less than 95%."

He walked around you and with the help of the redheads he sat you up. While she held you up, he put a stethoscope on your back and listened to your lungs as you tried to breathe in as deeply as you could. The air was getting thinner for you. "Rattling noises and not fully exposed lungs. Your sister's body can no longer fully absorb oxygen and release carbon dioxide."

"And what now?" she asked panicked and kept turning to the door, hoping the blonde would come in and help her. For her too it was more than shocking to see you like that.

"Massive bleeding can make breathing so difficult that it can be fatal." he took a deep breath and was about to continue when Alex interrupted him. "Deadly?"

"Yes. The risks arises from the fact that blood runs into other sections of the lungs that are not affected by the bleeding and breathing can be impaired, which, if not acted quickly, can lead to death by suffocation."

A moment when everyone felt as if the hospital had been emptied. You couldn't hear anything anymore, no people romping about in the hallways, no sirens, nothing. Just the beeping. "Does she have any pre-existing conditions that should be known about? Allergies?"

"No previous illnesses, until last night she was a perfectly fit and healthy girl. Pollen allergy, hay fever. Those are the only allergies she has." Alex was desperate. Even if she knew they were routine questions, she just wanted him to stop asking and finally help you.

"No cardiovasbular diseases or lung cancer from the sides of her mother or father?"

"No, no. Nothing."

He turned away from Alex while he turned to the nurse and spoke to her. "Attach four liters of oxygen to her and watch her for changes. Someone from the radiology will be here in a moment and take her up for a contrast-enhanced computed tomography where we may see more. On the other hand, we sent her blood to the laboratory to see if there are any indications of a pathogen or inflammation."

"Thank you, doctor."

He disappeared with a nod and left you alone with your sister. His word made you panic. You began to tremble uncontrollably and tears ran down your cheeks but Alex was not yet aware of that.

She stood in front of your bed, her hands on the bed frame while she looked down at the floor and took a few deep breaths. She also had to pull herself together after said words and now shot any fear towards you. She knew that she had to be the strong one now to offer you hope and security.

Only after hearing the ventilator roll across the fake tile floor did she look up and see you. Completely finished with your nerves and with the strenght at the end you layed there and looked at her with tired and tearful eyes.

Immediately she grabbed a chair and sat down next to you. She was too scared to crawl on your bed and lie down next to you to hug you so she took your hand in hers and laid her head on your chest. "Hey baby, calm down. Everything will be alright!"

Your heart was racing and your breaths became even more uncontrolled than in the situation anyway. All the blood loss and exertion made you dizzy itself so when it came to having a panic right now, you would lose the battle and get unconcious.

So with all the strength left, you tried to keep track of your eldest sisters breathing and the circles that she was drawing on your hand. But where was Kara?

"Kara."

"She will be there as soon as you are back from the CT, I promise." she spoke softly and listened to your heartbeat. Despite the oxygen, your breathing became shallowed and the concern for you grew with every single second.

---

During your CT, Kara had arrived at the hospital and joined her morbidly panicked older sister who was waiting for news in the waiting room. She knew roughly how long such a CT scan would take and so she didn't understand why you still weren't brought back.

It was only after a while that your attending doctor came to your sisters and took them to the treatment room where you were lying before. "So, your sisters blood values are in the normal ranged based on the inflammation. However, the D-dimers and other values that indicate a pulmonary embolism were increased. We also discovered these during the CT with the contrast agent."

"Whats happening now?" Kara said in a whisper and put on an arm around Alex who, visibly shocked, didn't know what to say.

"She was immediately sent to the cath lab where the doctors use a catheter to loosen and remove this clot. Of course under general anesthesia so nothing can go wrong or further bleeding can't occur if she moves."

After talking to the doctor, they were sent to the ward where they excitedly were waiting for you to arrive again. While Alex tried process everything, Kara tried to calm her down and get her to sit down since she was awake for almost 36 hours now. But the older one was stuborn and refused to sleep. She knew that she could only close her eyes when your were besides her again.

---

After you got upstairs in the room, you were still very fuzzy from the rest of the anesthetics and the painkiller that you were given preventively so that you weren't quite awake even tho you realised everything.

As you looked through the room with half open eyes, you saw Alex now soundly asleep in the chair next to you, but still holding your hand tightly in hers to feel if something was wrong while Kara was sitting at the table in front of your bed, eating some chips from the vending machine and typing on her laptop.

"You're beautiful." you slurred out and Kara frightened before she realized who was talking.

"You are finally awake!" She whispered smiling and sat down on the free space at your feet. "You scared the shit out of us, you know that? You even knocked Alex off her feet!" she pointed to the redhead next to you and laughed.

"How can something like you be so pretty?"

"I beg your pardon?" she questioned while realizing that it was not you who were talking but all the drugs in your system.

"You are an alien and probably already tens of thousands of years old. How can you have such smooth skin and such soft hair?" you asked still cloudy in your head, not pretty sure what you were talking even though the words came spilling out of your mouth and you simply couldn't control it.

"Well, aliens don't always look like they do in movies." the blonde giggled and watched you looking at her with almost closed eyes as if you were scanning her from top to bottom.

"Aliens are green and ugly. You are very different, you are human."

"I am not Y/N, and you know that. Probably not now but you know. How many times have you flown with me?" Kara asked and watched you how you struggled for an answer.

"You lowered down on a huge rope and got carried around by and airplane. I see through your magic tricks."

Even if it wasn't appropriate to film this status of you, she did it anyway to show you what came out of your mouth during your medical drug trip. The blonde laughed out loud and covered her mouth so as not to wake Alex. She watched you slowly return to sleep and follow your oldest sister into the dream world.

[rangers-are-cool-moved]

Peter Whitlock

Peter was born on 15 January 1890 in Houston, Texas, to Nathan and Sara White nee Bell. He was the eldest of two children, with the youngest being Isabelle Sara White. He adored his mother and sister but his father was a different matter altogether. For the 14 years that Nathan was around, Peter often ended up becoming the target of his anger so that the other two White members were protected. 

In 1902, Nathan was called to war and ended up becoming the meal of a hunting vampire in 1904, so he never returned home. When the news of his father's death became known, the White family relaxed although they still appropriately mourned Nathan's passing. Quiet, patient and kind, Peter was someone who many wanted their daughters to marry but he denied all marriage requests and remained single. For he knew that his time was coming.

"I ain't NOTHIN' like the Major's brat. I get random bits of factual information that are set in stone. I just know shit an' it's not a gift. The Pixie's ability is based on decisions. It shouldn't be relied upon all the time fer each new vision seen may not happen, if a decision is changed."

15 January 1913 Peter had always known that he would drop his sister off at her friend's house and then never see her again. His claircognizance ability had warned him of that. Later that night on the very day that he had turned 23, Peter Martin White died and turned into a vampire by Major Jasper Whitlock. Newborns (newly turned vampires) in Maria's army in the Southern Vampire wars were mainly used for their first year of being a vampire and then culled. But Peter had been saved from that fate by the Major.

He, and his alternate personality the General, had become Jasper's second in command and that was how it stayed until 1936, when he escaped from Maria's army with a newborn called Charlotte. Someone who he thought would be his constant companion but it wasn't to last. Peter returned for Jasper in 1938 and helped set the older Texan on a path that would eventually make him happy. But in turn, it would also spell the end of their friendship and cause Peter to avoid his maker.

"Do I regret goin' back fer the Major? Never. Do I regret lettin' 'im go afterwards? Aye 'cause he is no longer the vampire I once knew.”

in 1958, Maria came after Peter & Charlotte in an attempt to get Jasper back but was met with a resounding "Not on my life." response from the General. But Charlotte, in an attempt to save her own life and not knowing where Jasper was either, handed Peter over to the very vampire he had helped her escape from nearly 20 years before. 10 years of hell later, it was Demetri and the Witch Twins who freed him from Maria's torture and put him back together again. In return, Peter helped them to destroy much of the camp and most of the vampires apart from a few of the older ones who had been acting as informants. Nowadays, Peter spends his time either helping out on the old Whitlock family farm that he brought back in 1942 without Charlotte's knowledge, or going Nomadic. Although his information network is international, no one actually knows who owns or runs it as he's only known by the name CAPTAIN. Which does cause Aro some amusement as he occasionally finds that not even the vampires know who the Captain is.

Basic information and stats about Peter are below the cut

BASIC FULL NAME Peter Whitlock HUMAN NAME Peter Martin White NICKNAME(S) Pete, Whit, Captain, Cap'n, Mart, Ghost ALIAS The General | Peter's alter personality REAL AGE 115 | 2005 / Does depend on RP DATE OF BIRTH 15 Jan 1890 PLACE OF BIRTH Houston, Texas NATIONALITY American GENDER & PRONOUNS Male | He/him RACE Vampire 

PHYSICAL HEIGHT 6ft3 WEIGHT 50.5kg EYE COLOUR Human: Ice cool blue | Vampire: Dull red usually, Dark red - lust/anger | The General - pitch black HAIR COLOUR Silvery blond HAIR STYLE Shoulder length DOMINANT HAND Right ACCENT + INTENSITY Thick Southern SCAR(S) Millions of scars caused by vampire bites, two straight scars running parallel down his spine CLOTHING Old blue jeans & black long sleeved shirt JEWELLERY Whitlock Clan crest ring on his middle finger MEDICAL PTSD from his years in the Southern Vampire Wars 

PERSONALITY MORAL ALIGNMENT Neutral TEMPERAMENT Calm, Easy-going, Sarcastic, Tactical ANGER Doesn't anger easily | Just don't fuck with his loved ones LIKES Travelling, visiting his friends and family, helping people, horse riding, reading, remembering his human family, practice fighting with the Volturi Guards, annoying the crap out of Aro DISLIKES Dealing with certain vampires, his loved ones getting hurt 

BACKGROUND HOMETOWN Houston, Texas CURRENT RESIDENCE Whitlock's Ranch, Texas LANGUAGE(S) Polyglot - mainly speaks English, Quileute and Spanish BASIC EDUCATION Home taught MOTHER Sara White nee Bell | 1870-1930 FATHER Nathan White | 1868 - 1904 SISTER Isabelle Sara White (later Swan) | 1897 - 1963 OTHER FAMILY Jasper Swan (Brother-in-law) | Geoffrey Swan (Nephew) | Charlie Swan (Great nephew) | Bella Swan (2nd great niece) 

RELATIONSHIPS STATUS Single | Happy on his own ORIENTATION Bi | Prefers men after what Charlotte put him through CURRENT None FORMER Charlotte THE LA PUSH PACK Neutral but unlike other vampires, he's allowed to cross the treaty line freely because he doesn't cause them to Phase. Due to a quirk of nature. THE CULLENS Rosalie & Emmett are the only two he actually gets on with. | The others don't want him around in case he makes Jasper have a relapse. THE VOLTURI It’s odd relationship with the Volturi that’s for sure.

VAMPIRIC FACTS TURNED: 15 Jan 1913 (his birthday) PERMANENT AGE: 23 MAKER: Major Jasper Whitlock (Hale) | 1844 - "Last I knew he was still lettin' the brat tell 'im what ta do." BLOOD: Human | Peter only feeds from the lowest of the low like murderers & high end criminals STAYS IN ONE PLACE OR NOMADIC? Nomadic mainly ABILITIES Claircognizance or "I just know shit." as he puts it, is his main gift. He is also a mental & physical shield, much like Bella for it comes from the White family line. | Unusual lack of a presence/scent so no one knows he's there. | No thirst to speak of THE GENERAL Cold, calculating, doesn't bat an eyelid any anything, is always awake. Was created to protect Peter when he was first turned as cannon fodder for Maria's army | Also known as his inner vampire self. 

ODD FACT Severely allergic to animal blood that is linked to his Claircognizance ability. If Peter drinks animal blood at all, he'll go into a coma-like state. He will get stuck inside his own mind due to an information overload & needs human blood to bring him back out of it. Unless Jasper is nearby.