#if you learned at 28 that you were from another planet

[cantsayidont]

December 1986. In the wake of the Crisis on Infinite Earths, John Byrne plainly expresses the ugly nativist foundations of Superman's new post-Crisis origin. Contemplating the history and culture of Krypton, which he's just received as a massive telepathic info-dump from a hologram of Jor-El, Superman unequivocally rejects as "ultimately meaningless" every single aspect of his Kryptonian heritage, from language to art to religion. Moreover, he expressly denies that he himself is an immigrant. This is not simply semantic; in Byrne's version, the starship that carries Kal-El to Earth is a "birthing matrix" — an in vitro womb in which Kryptonian embryos are grown — so he's not technically born until he lands on Earth and is decanted by his human parents on American soil:

This is actually Byrne's kindest take on the post-Crisis Krypton in this period: His horrifying 1988 WORLD OF KRYPTON miniseries, drawn by Mike Mignola, presents Jor-El's world as a fallen, postapocalyptic society, ruined, both environmentally and morally, by the degeneracy (a word I use advisedly) of Krypton's last Golden Age. Only Jor-El is presented as having any moral worth, and only because of his interest in the traditions and history of Krypton before the fall, which his father and peers (including Lara) consider distasteful. This questioning of modern Kryptonian culture ultimately gives Jor-El the wherewithal to save his (unborn) son from Krypton, both from its actual destruction and from its soulless corruption of natural human values. Yikes!

It's also worth recalling the status quo that MAN OF STEEL erased. Since 1958, Superman had been part of a diaspora of Kryptonian survivors: Besides himself and Krypto (with whom Byrne later dispensed very harshly), there were the millions of inhabitants of the Bottle City of Kandor, stolen by Brainiac before the destruction of Krypton and later enlarged on the distant planet Rokyn; Supergirl, born on Argo City after Krypton's destruction; the prisoners in the Phantom Zone; the Kryptonian bully Dev-Em and his parents (who later traveled to the 30th Century); and Supergirl's Kryptonian parents (who survived the destruction of Argo City and later settled in Kandor). In his Fortress of Solitude, Superman kept a private journal in Kryptonese. His intimates often referred to him as "Kal," not Clark. He observed, to at least some degree, certain Kryptonian customs, and in moments of stress, he would invoke the name of the Kryptonian god ("Great Rao!"). He was, like many members of real-world diasporas, a man of two worlds — neither wholly of Krypton nor entirely of Earth, but part of both, and an interstellar hero.

The Byrne/Wolfman reboot erased almost every facet of that, and very deliberately. Part of this, of course, was a desire to shake things up for commercial reasons, while part was DC's editorial conviction (mistaken, I think) that allowing any Kryptonian survivors other than Superman himself weakened and undermined Superman as a character. However, as the pages above make clear, it was also a desire to slam the door on the idea of Superman as an immigrant — and, by extension, on the Jewish coding that had been a central feature of the Superman comics mythos for nearly 30 years.

[transformerskinkfest]

Transformers Kinkfest Prompt List 2024

The prompt list is HERE! Thank you all for your suggestions!

Each day has one Transformers kink and one alternative, more general kink (in italics at the end) - use one, use both, combine them any way you like! (Each kink also has a little blurb, but this is just to give you a bit more context on the more unusual ones. Don't feel bound by the explanation - if you want to take a prompt in a totally different direction, go for it!!)

Please remember to tag #transformerskinkfest or #tf kinkfest when you post your work. There will also be an AO3 collection you can post to - link to go up here before the fest begins.

PROMPTS:

17 October: Alt mode interfacing. What it says on the tin - sex in alternate mode! (Alt prompt: Collar)

18 October: Faction play. Could be two (or more) characters of different factions, or characters pretending to be different factions than they are. Not limited to Autobots and Decepticons - if you want someone pretending to be in the Primal Vanguard or the DJD, go for it! (Alt prompt: Roleplay)

19 October: Xeno. Human (or humanformer)/Transformer pairings, or Transformers with any other sentient alien species. (Alt prompt: Threesome or moresome)

20 October: Fuel siphoning. Siphoning or pumping fuel out of or into your parter(s), and all the sensations/emotions that could go with it. (Alt prompt: Feeding)

21 October: Compatibility modes OR cultural differences. Playing with cultural differences - between citystates, colonies, factions, or Cybertronians and other species - in the berth. This is the compatibility mode concept, from the person who suggested it: "The concept is that bots for whatever reason (forged, constructed, modded, upgraded?) have "compatibility modes" that allow them to more easily interface with beings on other planets. i e Eurythman mode is more sonic focused, or Lithonian mode includes piezoelectric features standard Cybertronian mode doesn't have, or Quintesson mode has more tentacles, etc. And the bot(s) with this kink want to run compatibility mode even when interfacing with another Cybertronian for whatever reason. Like, "let's do it like they do in Menonia, or Odessyx, or Nexus Zero."... How is that mode different, how did they learn of it, what's fun about it for them now with current partner(s)?" (Alt prompt: Public)

22 October: Sentient vehicles. Driving, flying, or just being completely enveloped within your partner (or having them completely inside you) in alt mode. (Alt prompt: Overstimulation)

23 October: Tentacles. Lots of beings - and a fair number of bots - have them... maybe more than we think! (Alt prompt: Bondage)

24 October: Remote transfer. Getting thoughts/information/sensations beamed into your brain by your partner - even at a distance. (Alt prompt: Sensory deprivation)

25 October: Plug 'n' play. Sex via physically plugging into your partner. (Alt prompt: Pet play)

26 October: Obsolete or unusual equipment/abilities. Some bots may have systems that don't initially seem compatible with (or are just a surprise to) their partners - maybe because they're older models, maybe they were created for a specific purpose or person, etc. Doesn't have to be limited to interface equipment - could include other body parts (hi there, Tailgate's suction cup mouth!) or even unusual/Outlier powers. (Alt prompt: Double penetration)

27 October: Sentient weapons. Alt mode sex meets weapons play! From the person who suggested this prompt: "Either A. a bot wants a sentient weapon (gun-former, targetmaster, Mini-Cons that combine into a sword, etc) to be involved in their interfacing with another bot, while in their weapon form; or B. The character(s) who is/are the sentient weapon initiate the request to be involved with a bot or bots interfacing while remaining in their weapon form." (Alt prompt: Biting)

28 October: Tactile interfacing. Basically, sex outside of the sticky or plug 'n' play models: sex that consists of touching your partner's frame, toying with their wires, playing with their EM field - your imagination is the limit. (Alt prompt: Orgasm denial)

29 October: Body control/system takeover. Controlling or hacking your partner's body, either via plugging in or remotely. (Alt prompt: Domination)

30 October: Wing kink/kibble kink. Wings, doors, wheels, antennae - it's all good! (Alt prompt: Size difference)

31 October: Free choice!

[lilacstro]

understanding draconic charts

This was another finger breaking post, maybe because my fingers are already tired. I am starting another diploma in astrology very soon so I would not have much time to post at all, so I am trying to post some good information that should help someone :)

history and significance:

Ok, so some people think of draconic charts as something related to past lives. Something we have carried from our past, while some people simply believe it is the chart of soul.

In traditional western astrology, the meanings some people relate it to, become different, in modern western astrology they are different again, and then there comes a significant difference when we see them from a vedic pov

draconic, is talking about dragon. The head of the dragon (North Node or Rahu) is benefic in traditional western astrology while the Tail of dragon was considered malefic and a nature of mars and saturn as to what Guido Bonnati says in his book Tractaurus Territus.

However, contrary to any such difference of nature made in traditional astrology, modern astrologer dane rudhyar, rather talks about the north node as mouth of the dragon, so something that we need to eat (or learn and consume) while the tail of dragon as evacuatory organ and something that we are supposed to leave behind

Vedic astrology, however, does this classification very much differently. The Rahu, is a significance of material wealth, mysticism, fear, confusion while Ketu represents spirituality, Rahu is the head of a demon, and not really a dragon and ketu is the torso of the same demon, Swarbhanu who disguised himself into the line of the hindu gods, devas, to get amrit or the nectar that makes one immortal. Vishnu, was the one distributing the nectar disguised as Mohini, a beautiful women, and as soon as he paid attention that it is actually a disguised demon drinking the amrit, he sent his chakra to disassociate his head from his body in an attempt to stop him, but the nectar already went down his throat making him immortal. Hence, this is why his body is still said to be revolving in the celeste and the cause of solar and lunar eclipses, especially in natal charts when it tightly aspects or conjuncts either Sun or Moon, the effects of which is another topic of discussion for someday else.

coming back, you can see how different each meanings are in different perspectives, but for today, we will be seeing how can your draconic chart affect you as a person.

how are they calculated:

Draconic charts are made by setting North Node in Aries/South Node in Libra at zero degrees and hence adjusting other celestial bodies in your chart accordingly. The zero degrees is probably to imply the starting of your soul's journey.

if you are interested to know the mathematical calculation, you basically subtract the degree of your natal North Node from other degrees of your planets.

let us see an example to calculate draconic sun

NORTH NODE = 28° 10' 30" CANCER (118° 10' 30")

TROPICAL SUN = 9° 39'47" VIRGO (159° 39' 47")

DRACONIC SUN = 159° 39' 47" -118°10' 30"= 41°29' 17" = 11° 29' 17" TAURUS (i am assuming you guys are aware of calculations done in degrees and minutes :) )

Interpretation

the chart is based very closely on the moon since the nodes create the chart so in a normal natal chart the nodes are called the nodes of the Moon and it's because the nodes are determined based on where the sun meets the moon on the ecliptic. So if you imagine the orbit of the sun and the orbit of the moon they cross at two points and those become the nodes and they're always opposite of each other they never move one faster than the other they are always synchronized.

so interpret your draconic chart elements as if they were conjunct to the moon.

Look below:

 

Compared to how our natal chart focuses on sun, the draconic is more focused on moon. So for example, if you have a Taurus Moon in draconic and a Pisces Sun in natal, your Taurus energy emotions would be expressed through your Pisces Sun.

It is important to remember everyone's North Node and South Node is in Aries and Libra in draconic, while different in natal chart. We should also keep in mind to pay extra attention to the conjunctions moon and nodes makes (it shows heightened energy) and oppositions (it shows challenges)

Draconic charts more so show our shadow, subconscious self (just like the moon), things and behaviors that may not be suspected in our natal chart, things we do for no reason at times.

Interpretation of planets:

while it would not be possible to cover each and every method of interpretation for draconic charts, I would try to explain as much as possible.

The Draconic Sun: your true light and soul essence

The Draconic Moon: your soul's desire and seat of the soul

The Draconic Ascendant: the way your soul approaches its lifetimes

The Draconic Descendant: the relationships you seek; reflection of your soul

The Draconic IC: your soul's beliefs/truths

The Draconic MC: your soul's mission/purpose

The Draconic Mercury: how your soul communicates through to you; input information

The Draconic Venus: how you feel loved and show love; your values

The Draconic Mars: your passion and what gets you excited

The Draconic Jupiter: your spiritual connection; exploring and learning

The Draconic Saturn: your soul's structure and what restricts it; karma

The Draconic Uranus: your soul's originality and quirks

The Draconic Neptune: your hidden shadows

The Draconic Pluto: your personal power and healing abilities; taboo traits

basically, everything, but from a soul's prespective.

Let us take Joe Biden's chart for example.

tropical and draconic

the tropical natal chart’s Ascendant ruler in the 8th house points to transformative and especially power related themes in his external life, while the Draconic Ascendant ruler in Cancer suggests a spiritual emphasis on nurturing, emotional sensitivity, and connections to home and family in his soul’s journey. This placement implies that his higher purpose and karmic connections may revolve around caring for others, exploring the mysteries of his roots, and deepening emotional connections. (credits: medium.com)

now again you interpret the signs the same way, but just fold things into what your soul and inner shadows want, and what your automatic feelings and behaviors could mean because there are aspects that become hidden in the natal chart but are seen further in the draconic charts.

for example, oprah winfrey's draconic moon is in aquarius and she indeed someone who is into NGOs, chatitable work and all that kind of stuff.

going beyond mundane interpretations

So when we superimpose both the natal and draconic charts, the angles, planets and houses that the draconic chart makes to our natal, can provide reasons for our conscious behaviors and what comes from "our prior conditioning"

let us see an example. Margret Atwood. She is a Canadian Writer. Looking at her chart, can you guess what kind of things she must write?

her venus and mercury both are in 7th house in Sagittarius, so should it not be happy go lucky things? optimistic or even say, religious things? No she instead writes on feminism, power and politics.

Let us see her draconic chart

what do we see folks? her ascendant is in scorpio, alright makes sense. And the ruler of her draconic Ascendant, pluto lies in her third and her draconic mars conjuncts her natal pluto, which further drives her to take initiatives on these kinds of things, since pluto alone in 3rd could also cause wanting to hide such things or probably not being so strong and upfront about it.

also see her draconic mercury and venus lie so near to her natal Uranus, so say rebelling through writing and arts. You can see the covers of her books and they are indeed like so.

So basically, whatever houses our draconic charts coincide with, it becomes an important point of attention to us.

Let us see the chart of BTS Jungkook:

his draconic MC is on overlapping his IC. and we know Jungkook has been giving auditions and became a trainee when he was really young. His career started when he was child basically.

there are many more of observations I see, but we are not specifically doing his chart analysis so we will move on

The house that our draconic/tropical 12th and tropical/draconic 12th overlap to, those houses can show where we may see struggles in.

let us see angelina jolie for example

her tropical 12th house coincides with her draconic 8th, and we know she did and does struggle with depression, mental health and such issues in her life. Even more beautiful, her both tropical and draconic MC are in each others 5th house, and she is indeed working in the entertainment industry.

Stephen hawkings had this overlap in his 6th house, and his health was indeed something that troubled him for the time he lived

we can also predict life events through transitory draconic charts, but it will get a little over head and advanced so we will not be covering it. Covid, Kobe Bryant's accident and some other things were predicted through transitory draconic charts. You can also see karmic relationships and your goals as souls together or what you invoke deeply in each other through draconic synastry charts. People have used this for multiple celeb couples, including Former Prince Harry and Meghan Markle.

Astrologer Maria Blaquier during her workshop at Kepler School for draconic charts says, that we can relate more to our south node moon at times, and I would want a few of you to confim this too!! For example, if you have a moon in Taurus in draconic, it becomes a moon in scorpio as a south node moon.

However, she further said that a few of her clients tend to say that they used to previously embody their south node moon and now relate to the nn moon, so this relates more to the modern astrological point of nodes that we discussed at the start.

i would also suggest paying close attention to tight aspects and conjuctions between your draconic and natal planets. Let us see an example from my friend's chart.

she has her draconic sun really tightly aspecting her natal Neptune, and no matter what happens, she is never interested in hitting someone back even when they do her wrong, and is very spiritual by nature.

now let us see how her natal pluto and draconic moon are at very close orbs, and she is indeed someone who is explosive and destructive when she is mad, or running high on emotions, her natal chart have littlest to no evidence of having this kind of rage.

I hope you all enjoyed this post.

support me on ko-fi :)

paid readings are open xoxo

[learnastrowallura]

🕯Mercury in Astrology

Information is from Chris Brennan's video on The Astrology Podcast YouTube channel on the topic of Mercury significations <3

Mercury: writing, speech, words, message, reign, translation, conveying, transmitting, information, interpretations, numbers, analysis, reasoning, details, dialogue, exchange, money, businesses, contracts, commerce, negotiating, indecision, disputation, questioning, doubts, distractions, speed, variety, irregularity, verstatility, changing, adaptability, flexibility, instability, inconsistency, knowledge, philosophy, service, teaching, mind, intelligence, intellect, language, communication, learning, poetry, voice acting, narration, acting, sharing, masculine, neutrality

Sun and Mercury:

Sun and Mercury are both centered around intelligence but in different ways; they complete each other. Sun is about divine knowledge and Mercury is about conveying, transmitting or communicating that knowledge or even perhaps analyzing it and extracting more wisdom as well as detail from it so I found this point particularly interesting. Sun illuminates with its rays and gives clarity by providing us with the truth and then Mercury expands on that truth and shares it with others in its charming versatile way as well

Sun vs Mercury sign:

Mercury does not move further than 28 degrees from the Sun meaning that the Mercury sign will always be the sign before or after the Sun sign (zodiacal signs are divided into 30 degrees) and so there is a bit of a differentiation (for lack of a better word) between who we are and the way we communicate and exchange information with other people if the Mercury and Sun signs are not one of the same. First example that comes to mind is having an Aries Sun Taurus Mercury and two people who are quite close to me have these placements; you would not know they were Aries Suns unless u asked hahaha even though one of them is an Aries rising too so that is something I wanted to note as well. Another example would be Sagittarius sun with Scorpio Mercury adding a lot of intensity to the person's communication style as well (which is something I relate to as you will see later on)

Domicile and exaltation:

Sooo Mercury rules over Gemini and Virgo so those are its domicile signs, it is how Mercury can manifest itself most comfortably whilst embodying its true essence. And then Mercury has its exaltation in Virgo as well which is pretty unique might I say and this gives me the vibes of (this my own way of seeing it so take it with a grain of salt) Mercury being more constructive in the sign of Virgo versus in Gemini just because of this particular distinction

But speaking of these two signs I do think they embody their Mercurial energies quite differently and shoutout to my friend @saturnianoracle for giving me the key words to describe this. First of all they are both analytic but Virgo is more of a skeptic I feel while Gemini tends to have more of an open mind. Virgo wants to see the evidence behind certain things to determine the merit or validity, to a certain extent, of the topics at hand to then decides if it wants to invest energy into looking into it more. It is very grounded as well as organized. With Gemini there is a certain sense of childlike curiosity that takes hold of this sign making it want to explore deep topics and of course stimulate its mind; it dives in without thinking and is more disorganized, inconsistent and chaotic I would say, and it loves conversing about its findings as well. I saw a tiktok video ancient astrology based describing Virgo and Gemini as the most intuitive signs which was fascinating to be honest u can watch it here

Detriment and Fall:

Mercury has its detriment in Sagittarius/Pisces and its fall in the sign of Pisces as well and the interesting thing noted in the video I watched (mentioned at the start) is that Sagittarius and Pisces are ruled by Jupiter, the biggest planet ruling over expansion and abundance, and with Mercury being on the smaller side you can really see that distinction of the Mercurial signs really often looking at the detail of things and well in contrast the Jupiter signs seeing the bigger picture. Also Jupiter being a benefic and ruling over luck makes me think that having these two placements is honestly not so bad tbh

Mercury in first house:

Mercury has its planetary joy in the first house of the self, highlighting the utmost importance of the curious, inquisitive and messenger qualities of the planet. What is interesting is the neutrality of Mercury and how we can link that with its joy being in the 1st house; a house that can be above or below the horizon, so even in this regard it stays neutral and does not "pick a side" if that makes sense; "acting as a bridge between the upper and lower hemispheres of the chart, a bridge between the celestial and terrestial realms which are united in the degree of the ascendant".

Source for the planetery joy information is Hellenistic Astrology: The Study of Fate and Fortune by Chris Brennan

I have made a more detailed post on planetary joys so check it out <3

Neutrality:

Mercury is not seen as a benefic or a malefic; it is considered a neutral planet. Of course, its manifestation and expression can be positive, negative or stay neutral depending on a few factors, such as:

Being in its domicile (Gemini/Virgo) or its exaltation (Virgo) sign is gonna lead it to manifest in a more constructive/beneficial way

Being in its detriment (Sagittarius/Pisces) or its fall (Pisces) sign would generally lead it to manifest in a less constructive way

Aspecting a benefic planet (Jupiter/Venus) would lead Mercury in this instance to manifest in a more constructive way as it is said to adopt the traits of benefic planet it is associated with

Being in a benefic ruled sign; meaning a Jupiter ruled sign as mentioned beforehand (Sagittarius Mercury, Pisces Mercury) or a Venus ruled sign (Taurus Mercury, Libra Mercury) would manifest in the same manner mentioned above

Aspecting a malefic planet (Mars/Saturn) leads Mercury to take on the traits of that malefic planet as well

Being in a malefic ruled sign so either Mars ruled (Aries Mercury, Scorpio Mercury) or Saturn ruled (Capricorn Mercury, Aquarius Mercury) leads us to Mercury adapting to that malefic's traits again

Triplicity also matters and I will make a detailed post on it soon but for now all I can say is that having Mercury in an air sign (Gemini, Aquarius, or Libra) adds on to the "power" that the Mercury placement has within the chart and the support that it gives to the native; if we are dealing with a day chart then Mercury has moderate support in the air sign in question (Saturn being its triplicity lord), and if it is a night chart then it maintains a powerful position within the chart, being its own triplicity ruler. (Source for triplicity rulership intormation is Ancient Astrology: in Theory and Practice: A manual of Traditional Techniques, Volume One: Assessing Planetary Condition by Demetra George)

That is all!! I wanted to go into more detail tbh but time simply does not allow it these days as I have my internship going on as well but I hope this was informative haha

Thank you for reading <3

Masterlist

Paid readings open

[monstersdownthepath]

So what is Jandelay?

One of the earliest and longer-running mysteries in Pathfinder was the identity of the mysterious Jandelay, mentioned only in the statblock of the Oliphaunt of Jandelay. In Mythic Realms, it remained ambiguous if Jandelay was a creature, an event, a plane, or some other mysterious entity, with the only hints about it being the poem carved into the base of the enormous Spindlethorn:

Jandelay, proof against the Maelstrom, Jandelay, of green fields and faultless spires; No sane soul born dares trespass fair Jandelay For the Oliphaunt guards you always.

But five years later, (almost) every question about the mysterious Jandelay was answered in Planar Adventures! It’s a demiplane, but not just any old demiplane! It is a bubble of pure Law floating on the surface of the Maelstrom in stark defiance of the Maelstrom’s desire to subsume all that is back into chaos. It refuses the Maelstrom’s pull and instead exploits the source of all quintessence, drawing it out as needed in order to maintain itself for its unique purpose.

Also known as the Apocalypse Archives, Jandelay is a realm of rolling green grass fields with alabaster spires placed regularly throughout... and thousands upon thousands of stitched-together, chimeric and chaotic arrangements of various biomes, architectures, and environments. Whenever a Watcher places a Beacon of Jandelay down upon a doomed world, it marks that section of the planet for collection by the plane. When the world is destroyed by the apocalypse which summoned the Watchers in the first place, every area marked by the Beacon is torn from the world and placed on Jandelay, merged together with other marked sections with little regard for whether or not the arrangement makes sense, but the magic of the plane and the attentions of the Watchers maintains these sections even when they would have logically crumbled away or annihilated one another (such as if a section of glaciers ended up next to an active volcano). Sapient lifeforms preserved by the Watchers are combined into a Collected, a form of Outsider with the minds and memories of dozens or perhaps even hundreds of creatures, bound eternally to the stitched remains of the world they were “rescued” from and allowed to wander it, but no further.

It’s not directly stated if animal life is taken along for the ride, but what IS canon is that Watchers use their perfect memories and passion for crafting, as well as knowledge obtained from the Collected, to build facsimiles of various flora and fauna that didn’t manage to get saved, using their constructs to decorate the world-sections. Despite this adorable behavior, Watchers don’t exactly make for good company, so the Collected tend to live a lonely existence. It’s not like anyone really visits.

Any knowledge about Jandelay is understandably difficult to come across. How the Runelords learned anything about the Oliphaunt or the plane itself is a mystery that yet endures, because dimensional travel straight up does not work. Any attempt to use Plane Shift or ANY other form of dimensional travel to enter, exit, or even just travel around inside Jandelay fails if the user doesn’t succeed a DC 41 Will save (something the Watchers must be innately immune to despite their statblock saying no such thing, else they can’t escape or re-enter their own home if they roll lower than 15), and Gate or similar effects fizzle automatically without allowing a save unless the caster is Mythic or the source is an Artifact.

So to even know about it, your world will already have to be on its way out the door. You need to succeed a DC 28 Will save (or be immune to Inconspicuous) to see a Watcher, NOT freak out about it, then convince it to tell you a little about itself, and then further convince it to tell you about Jandelay... and if you want to GO there, that’s a DC 41 Will save or you simply can’t without burning another spell slot or resource to try again. And Armageddon continues to breathe down your neck as you try again! And if, by some miracle, you end up there? Well, good luck getting out with any swiftness, especially since you’d need to not only have more castings of Plane Shift, but a safe destination in mind to recollect yourself as you grapple with knowing your world is gone. That kind of thing changes a person! Is it any wonder why knowledge about Jandelay is so hard to come by, when the conditions for gaining even tiny scraps are so severe? (No, you can’t just summon a Watcher; they have far too many HD for anything lower than Gate to work)

It’s not super dangerous in the archives, at least. if you wanted, you could wait to get your slots and sanity back while looking at the past destroyed worlds. Maybe even find your own. The Watchers don’t attack creatures who merely examine the exhibits--that’s what they’re there for, after all--but any attempt to damage them and you’ll find out there’s a lot more of the creepy crawlies than you know about hiding just outside your senses.

And then there’s the Oliphaunt itself. Chaos made manifest, a mountain made flesh, a storm given purpose. It’s the Oliphaunt that protects Jandelay from all intruders, its own presence the one that imposes the travel restrictions for reasons that can only be guessed at (which means that if it’s NOT in Jandelay, one can travel there without making a save! easy, right?) and the greatest deterrent to the Proteans who’d otherwise object to Jandelay’s presence. The origins of the Oliphaunt, and of Jandelay, are stated in surprisingly plain terms: the Oliphaunt created itself, and made Jandelay soon after. Then, Jandelay itself birthed the Watchers to tend to it. The Oliphaunt is stated to be the incarnated form of the idea of the apocalypse; the manifestation of calamity and destruction on a planetary scale, drawn to observe its collection of destroyed worlds for its own inscrutable reasons.

It leads me to believe it was born shortly after the rampage of Rovagug, the collective dying gasps of thousands of worlds and gods coalescing into a single being, and it created Jandelay as a method to assure no more worlds would be forever lost and forgotten; something by no means canon, but it makes the most sense to me. What also is not canon but makes sense to me is that the Oliphaunt, as the incarnation of world-destroying calamities, should not be an entity the players can reasonably fight. We’ll see how I approach this particular challenge this Friday!

[vibratingskull]

The last farewell

Part1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

Tags : Angst/hurt/comfort, physical remission, hospital, reader is disabled

You spend your time in the hospital learning how to walk again when Thrawn visits you with an unexpected demand

FemaleReader x Thrawn

“Another step”, the meddroid proposes its voice echoing in the gymnase. 

You hold down the parallel bar and take another step, unsure. 

You're trembling, searching for your balance on those robotic legs. You're not used to them yet. They feel foreign to you despite connecting to your nervous system. Your muscles are shaking as you relearn how to walk. 

You lost so much. 

“Continue the rehabilitation, you are on the right track!” the droid speaks with what is surely supposed to be coded as excitement in the voice, but it just comes out weird. 

You sit on your wheelchair and take out the legs, you still have an immense hill ahead of you. 

You sigh. You're tired. 

“Let's go to your room,” the droid informe stepping forward to push you. 

“No. I'll do it myself,” you decide, waving at him to get out of your way. 

You roll in the hallway, lost in your thoughts. You have so much work ahead of you, so much to reconquer… You're supposed to receive the visit of lower officers but you don't want their pity thrown in your face, you need peace. 

You want peace. 

You arrive at his room. 

You don't get your hopes up, but you can't help it. 

You pass the door… and sigh. 

Vez is still in a coma. 

You roll up to his bed. 

“Hello friend. It is particularly sunny today, you would love to stroll in the garden and sketch some plants.“

He is unresponsive. It's not like a doctor told you he would wake up soon, but it still pains you to see. 

If they have been cruel to you, they have been down right animalistic to Vez. His legs have been cut and he lost both of his lekkus. You're not totally aware of what it entails but you remember the lekkus hold some brain tissues. The docs say he will not have long term brain damages but you doubt he will see it that way. What they took was irreplaceable and you're afraid of his reaction. 

For now he's sleeping peacefully as you were, unaware of his body's damages. Like you his brain puts him in a deep sleep to prevent him from damaging his psyche, docs say he will wake up when the brain will have finished processing what happened but he can still hear around him and feel some sensations. So you come here everyday to talk, to vent, to speak of everything and nothing, trying to put him at ease the best you can. You take his hands, caress his forehead, his cheek, you tell him tales of Ryloth and your own planet, anything you could think about. After the Chimaera left you both at a military hospital you observed these habits religiously. Thrawn wanted first to put Vez in a civil hospital but you refused and fought him on that until he surrendered. You wanted to be here when your friend woke up. 

“I'm making progress with the legs, I thought they would be heavier but once they have been connected to your nervous system they are so light.“

Your hand reaches for the metallic apparatus they jabbed in your spine to control the legs and grazes it lightly.

“We don't stop medical progress,” you say almost to yourself.

You hear his bed neighbor cough, you tilt your head to see if they need help. 

“By the way, yesterday your mom tried to see you. She can't because it's a military hospital but your family is worried about you. I could discuss a bit with her, you're so alike it is fascinating, you caress his cheek, you take his hand and squeeze it. Don't worry, I'll ask Thrawn to put pressure on the direction so she could see you.” 

“A Grand Admiral influence is not supposed to be used as such,” a voice rises behind you. 

You jump in your wheelchair before turning your head to Thrawn, hands clasped behind his back with an interrogative gaze. 

“You scared me,” you chastise him. “How did you know I was here ?” 

“I knew you would not be present at your own meeting with the officers, you were not in the gymnase, it was the only logical option.” 

You nod. Of course. He comes to sit next to you and observe the body of Vez in silence. 

“He did not wake up?” He asks with a soft voice. 

“Not yet,” you shake your head. “The doctors aren't optimistic.“

He nods in silence. 

”Why are you here ?” You inquire. 

He turns towards you with a puzzled look. 

“To give you what you asked me,” he responds like it was obvious. 

You can see the bag he's transporting

“Yes of course, but what are you doing here, on Coruscant ?” 

“I have a martial court about how I supposedly almost destroyed a city to retrieve you.” 

You flush. 

“Didn't you ?” You tease. 

“Absolutely not, each parameter was studied to do the least damage possible, but it was impossible not to deal some damage to the buildings nearby. The arrest of a large slave abductors demanded some sacrifices.” 

He sounds almost angry, but you know better. You hide your smile, it is pretty funny to see Thrawn flounder in politics, it has an innocent and moving side to it. Without thinking about it you take his hand and kiss it. He looks you in the eyes with an unreadable expression. You immediately regret it, maybe he doesn't like physical demonstration of affection in public… 

“Let me escort you to your room,” he says. 

He rises and goes to push your wheelchair, once again you refuse. 

“No, no, no. I can do it. Let me do it.” 

You head towards the room, side by side, he gently adjusts his pace to yours. You advance in silence in the corridors. 

You really hope you didn't cross a line with him… 

You enter, he goes straight to open the window while you maneuver to go to bed. He closes and locks the door and sits on the bed. You look at him with sorry spelled in your eyes. He grasps your hand and caresses it with his thumbs. 

“ I heard you will soon be interrogated by the ISB agents.”

“In three days,” you sigh,” it promises to be hilarious.”

“It is for the good of the Empire.”

“Sure…”

You gulp, in reality you try as much as you can to not think about what happened or you feel yourself overflowed by hate, anger and sorrow. 

It’s eating you alive, terrifying you. You may or may have not exaggerated certain symptoms to get a higher dosage of the drugs to get high and forget. You don’t brag about it to Thrawn, obviously.

“ The date of the trial have been chosen,” he continues

You dig your nails in the sheet.

“Okay…”

Thrawn already explained to you how Nather was surprised by the flash operation, how him and his goons fighted in each rooms, how much lives he took, how he almost made the entire structure collapse on itself with everyone under it when he realized he was trapped but was swiftly disarmed by a precise shot of one of the Stormtroopers. Now he remains silent, surrounded by his army of lawyers in the prisons of the Empire, he refuses to give any intel or names to the ISB agents, hiding behind his pride and his fan. As a prominent Governor he doesn't get the rough treatment, but they are not nice to him either, he holds on surprisingly well. 

You’re not ecstatic at the idea of seeing him again, even in the perspective of his own trial. You’re happy justice will be served, but you don’t know how you’ll react in his present. Will you burst into tears or try to kill him on the spot? Maybe you will go into a deafening torpor and dissociate completely from your body. You don’t know… for now the simple idea of seeing him again makes you sick. 

Thrawn puts your hand to his lips and kisses it delicately. 

“I know it is painful and uncomfortable, but it must be done, he tries to comfort you, be strong.”

You gulp.

“ … Will you be with me?”

“ I have to give my own testimony, so yes. I will be at your side.”

You feel relieved to hear that, knowing that you won’t be alone in this trial alleviate the pain and ease the knot in your stomach.

Thrawn reaches for the bag, changing the difficult subject

“I brought you what you asked for.”

You take it to verify what it holds. You found your purse, the key to your apartment, some holos, your personal datapad… You thank him with a heartfelt smile. He nods with a serious face. 

“There is also an important matter I wish to discuss with you,” he says with the most stern face. 

“Okay ?” 

You brace yourself, he looks a bit tense and that scares you. What could possibly put him in this state ? Are you both suspected in the affair? Did you do something wrong? Outside of getting yourself imprisoned like a damn rookie. Is he gonna criticize your tactical decisions on that day? Is he entangled in problems after helping you out? Did they criticize him for engaging in armed conflicts while on supposed vacation. Come to think of it, he surely didn't take any vacations and planned this from the beginning. 

You look at him ready for any slap across the face, but he manages to surprise you. 

“(Y/n), would you live with me?” 

The air is punched out of your lungs and you can't think straight during three seconds 

“ Would I… What ?” 

By reflex you retract your hand from his and pull the sheet over yourself. 

“Would you live with me?” 

“Yes, I heard the first-I mean… Urgh... Why ?” 

He holds his chin like he is gathering arguments. 

“I do not think you will be able to keep the apartment Governor Satlove is paying for you.” 

You tried to push that thought away so many times, but he's right, unfortunately. 

“And I am already living in the apartment you rent me, I think we should try.”

Well, you didn’t see him as that keen but it looks like you were wrong. And you can’t help a snarky remark.

“ Isn’t it just an adroit ploy to stop paying me your rent?” You grin.

“ No, I am serious, I think we can both benefit from that idea.”

“ I know. It’s a joke. I was joking.”

He looks like he’s computing the info. 

You munch on your lower lip, feeling like a little girl. You giggle, squirming on the bed like a child. 

You never lived with one of your… partners? 

“It seemed to me like a good solution, but I understand you would not appreciate the idea,” he tempers.

“No, no, no! It’s a good idea! It’s just… It’s so sudden.”

“ I figured that is what people like us tend to do.”

“ And what “people like us” are?” You ask.

He seems to think about it.

“Ch'an'ecivon'ot.”

“I have no idea what that means.” You smile wryly

“In basic you would say…” He caresses your hand with the tip of his fingers “Soulmates.”

You freeze again, processing the info.

“That is what we are then?” you ask breathlessly. “Isn’t it a tad dramatic?”

“You think?” He smiles lightly “I thought about us and I liked how that sounded.”

He seems to notice your reluctance.

“I shocked you.”

“No? No, no,no” You try and temper “It’s just that you're coming out really strong and serious and…”

“Yes, I am serious. I am serious about our relationship. Are you not?”

“I… Didn’t have time to properly think about it.” You admit.

He gauges you up and down.

“Do you love me?” he asks bluntly.

You're so taken aback, being cornered like that. Your mouth and throat are dry, you open your lips to speak but nothing comes out.

You love him.

You do, oh yes you do.

But you never worded it, and even less spoke it out loud.

He seems to relax and smile sadly at your discomfited expression.

“Pardon me. It is wrong of me to ask you without telling you first. I should not have put you in a corner like that.” He gently holds your face and kiss your forehead, “Do not fret, cha’cah.”

You slowly relax under his touch.

“Alright, I must go now. I wish you a rapid recovery… “

He seems to hesitate. 

“And come back to me quickly,” he said it so low you almost didn’t hear it.

But you did hear it.

He kisses your forehead and leaves the room.

You look in your purse if he didn’t put your comlink in, but find something else. With a raised eyebrow you take out the envelope simply signed with “Eli”. You completely forgot about that. You never took the time to read the last letter your friend left for you.  You open it carefully, taking ou the folded sheet of paper.

“ (Y/n), I hope this letter finds you better than when I left. I must leave to help Thrawn, but I trust we will see each other again, if you stay by his side it is bound to happen, I am sure. Do not leave his side, it is the most secure place in all the galaxy, and I have reason to think you are not safe. I had the occasion to speak with Governor Satlove alone, and this man sent shivers down my spine, I see nothing behind his eyes but a black void. I do not trust this man (Y/n) and so should you, something is not right with him. He made some inappropriate advances and tried to convert me to his church without my interest. I pushed him back but he insisted. There is something about him downright animalistic and uncivilized despite the dignity he drapes himself in. I had the occasion to speak about it with Thrawn and he agreed with me. Do not refuse the help of a friend, and accept my warning. I picked upon your disdain towards me recently, and even though I don’t know why I want you safe. If I ever did something to anger you, know that I am truly sorry. I wish I could tell you face to face, but I have to go. 

Farewell my friend, I hope to see you under better auspices.

Eli.”

This time tears roll down freely, your body is shaken by sobs, your hands holding the letter tremble erratically. 

“Eli… Oh Eli…” You cry.

How could you? How could you doubt him? Your own friend. But maybe you don’t deserve to call him friend after how you treated him. You hold the letter against your heart. He never deceived you, it’s all Nather’s fault, isolating you more and more, until you had no friend remaining. But he couldn’t get rid of Thrawn and Eli completely. And he won’t be able anymore…

“Hey, girl! How are you feeling?”

You raise your head in surprise, an overjoyed Karyn is here but her expression changes immediately when she sees you crying. She immediately sits on the bed and takes your hand.

“What’s happening (Y/n)?”

“Eli… Eli…“ You can’t formulate a proper sentence.

She takes you in her arms and cradles you.

”We will find him. I promise,” she assures.

She doesn't know the truth, and it is not your place to reveal it. So you just hug her back, squeezing her in your arm, appreciating the warmth of a friend.

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay

[scrollonso]

Pampered

A marcmarc fluff oneshot (800 words)

Marc Marquez was an alien. There was no other way to put it. His planet, Atapuerca, had been invaded by another species decades before, leading to him crash-landing on Earth. It was eerily similar to Atapuerca, but more advanced. He'd found himself in a place called Burgos, Spain. He was adopted by a Spanish family and raised as their own.

Growing up he was well aware of his differences and how the species he'd wound up living amongst, Humans, were nothing like Atapuercians. He was fascinated with the differences. The language was different, Spaniards accents were the same as his people, the language sounding almost identical, but he found he had no idea what the people around him were saying.

He took interest in motorycling very early on, before he'd learned the language that was spoken around him. It came almost naturally to him, riding the bike.

Time passed and he aged, differently than Humans, but still he aged. He had now spent 28 years on Earth, 320 in space, and 496 on Atapuerca. Thinking about it as a human made him seem old, ancient, as if he was an object to be studied, but time was different on his planet. Or it had been.

He'd became fluent in Spanish, English, and was adequate in Italian. He'd gone through many different human friendships, rivalries, and romances but still none of them made him feel as whole as the bond he'd created with an Italian rider named Marco Bezzecchi, one of the few people he'd felt safe enough to disclose information about his life, prior to landing on Earth, to.

Still finding himself struggling to adapt to human customs and societal norms, he found an unlikely friend in Marco, a 25-year-old human MotoGP racer known for his competitiveness in contrast to his soft spot for his pitbull, Rubik.

One afternoon, not long after the season had came to an end, Marc visited Marco's apartment. As usual, Marco was engrossed in pampering Rubik. He talked to his dog in a soothing tone, scratched Rubik's belly, and fed him treats, eliciting happy wags and contented sighs from the dog.

Marc observed this scene with a growing sense of confusion and mild disgust, this was one thing he could never get used to seeing. Unable to hold back any longer, he blurted out, "Why do you let this creature order you around?"

Marco looked up, amused by Marc's bluntness, toothy smile appearing on his face. "Order me around? What are you talking about?"

Marc gestured towards Rubik, who was now snuggling closer to Marco, eyes half-closed in bliss. "This... Rubik. You cater to his every whim. On Atapuerca, we do not allow lesser beings to dominate our time and energy like this."

Marco chuckled, shaking his head. "Rubik isn't ordering me around, Marc. He's part of my family. We take care of each other. It's about companionship and loyalty."

Marc frowned, still puzzled. "But you serve him. You feed him, clean up after him, provide him comfort and affection. How is this not a form of subservience?"

Marco sighed, trying to explain. "It's not about servitude. It's about love and connection. Rubik brings me joy and comfort, and I do the same for him. It's a mutual relationship. Him being a dog and me being a human doesn't matter."

Marc's expression softened slightly. "On Atapuerca, we value strength and independence. Relationships based on mutual dependency are rare. Even between mother and offspring we do not see bonds like this."

Marco nodded. "I get that. But here, our pets are more than just animals. They're friends. Rubik is always there for me after a tough race or a bad day. That kind of loyalty is invaluable."

Marc watched Rubik, now contently lying across Marco's lap. "I suppose there is a certain... charm in this bond you share. Perhaps it is something I could learn to appreciate."

Marco smiled, nudging Marc's shoulder. "Give it time, you have a few hundred years left. Who knows, maybe one day you'll find yourself with a pet of your own. Until then, you can always enjoy the company of Rubik and me."

Marc tilted his head, a curious glint in his eye. "Would you pamper me like that if I were to stay here?"

Marco's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by the seemingly romantic undertone of Marc's question. "Well, I... I guess I could," he stammered, face flushing slightly. "But I don't think you need belly rubs and treats, do you?"

Marc shook his head, leaning closer. "Perhaps not, but I wouldn't mind the attention. You seem quite good at it."

Marco laughed, feeling a strange warmth spread through him. "Well, I'll keep that in mind. Just don't start barking for treats."

Marc smirked, his alien eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'll try to refrain. But I must admit, the idea of being pampered by you is quite... appealing."

Marco shook his head, still smiling. "You're something else, Marc. But hey, maybe that's what friends are for. Pampering included."

As Rubik dozed peacefully, oblivious to the exchange, Marc and Marco shared a moment of newfound understanding and a hint of something more, bridging the gap between their worlds one affectionate gesture at a time.

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Rachel Daly x Millie Bright x Reader

Part Five - So Far Removed

Posted:28/04/23, Edited: 26/09/23

The door to the plane tunnel closed as you soaked in the last glimpse of your girlfriend from the other side. Your heart sunk a little as the reality set in, you’d taken the piss out of Rachel the whole journey now here you are moping yourself. The hands of Millie landing on your shoulders suddenly jolting you out of the impending funk “come on bestie! We’re gonna have so much fun!” linking her arm in yours and trotting towards the plane. As you neared the door Chelsea’s social media person was there filming the players file onto the plane “sorry can you get out the shot so we can just get Bright?” Dropping the link between you but Millie immediately stopped your arm from leaving hers as soon as she felt your grip loosen. “Err, no if you want me you gotta get my best friend too!” the captain remarked as she shuffled you onto the plane without giving it a second thought. Your mouth dropped wide open at the sight of what was inside the metal shell, earning yourself an elbow to the ribs. “What, you never seen a private plane before?” Millie smirked “mate, I’ve never had extra leg room before, let alone a private jet!” you exclaimed as she showed you to your seat next to hers. “So this is a taster for the World Cup is it?” you said pressing all the buttons and playing with everything like a child. “Oh the England jet is sooo much better! This is nothing!” Millie nonchalantly announced. “THIS is nothing to you?! Oh to be a footballer!” you scoffed and rolled your eyes as you flopped into your chair, immediately kicking the recliner back. “The last time I was on a plane someone screamed at me for putting my chair back! That was barely an inch!” leaning back fully until your chair was practically flat. “You’re cute” Millie gushed at your naïveté, “you’re spoilt!” you hit back at her remarks. Your reality and hers so far apart you were practically on different planets as you gawped at the plane staff putting your bags in the locker for you. “Smile!” she shouted as she shoved her phone in your face - ‘honorary team member’ she posted.

Falling asleep almost immediately you were woken almost an hour later by Millie prodding you “hey, I didn’t get you on this plane to sleep!” poking you repeatedly until you sat up. “We got TikToks to make.. Oh, and Rach text you” she said still as loud and bouncy as ever. Asking how you’d received texts as you’re still in the air she said she’d taken the liberty of logging you onto the complimentary WiFi. You stared at her unbelievably, this is how the other half lives aih? You asked what she had lined up for you, she spoke about a few ideas and before you knew it you were at the back of the plane learning dances. It must be exhausting being her team mate, she just does not stop - even with a dodgy knee!

Another hour passed when you landed in Barcelona, stepping out of the plane the hot air hit you like a brick wall, quickly pulling your jumper off and letting the sun rays soak you up. This is exactly what you needed after a long, harsh English winter - you couldn’t wait to plop your bikini cad arse on a sun lounger!

After checking in to your hotel room you threw your suitcase onto the bed, immediately rummaging through everything to unpack. Finding your new bikinis and putting one on before flopping onto the bed to FaceTime Rach to let her know you had arrived safely. The call didn’t last long as she started acting jealous again, hanging up with love and jokes so she knew you loved her but enjoyed the luxury of being able to switch her off this time. Grabbing your towel and lotion you wasted no time getting straight to the pool, finding a perfect lounger to station yourself at to get lost in your book. Finishing a few chapters when someone blocked the sunlight to your body, looking over your sunglasses to see that Millie had found you - there goes the peace and quiet! Cocktails in hand she parked herself on the lounger next to you, she talked about how the Man City girls are out here too and asked if we wanted to go out with them tonight. Of course you were up for this and started planning what outfit to wear in your head. Surprisingly enough, Millie had also bought a book with her and laid with you to read a few more chapters while getting a good start on your tan.

Before heading back to you grabbed a bite to eat together then shuffled back to your room to shower and wash your hair. Running to Millie’s room still in your towel to sit on the balcony and dry off together, eating and pre drinking your way into the evening. When you were nicely tipsy you bought all your things to her room to get ready together - the music was loud, the drinks were flowing and before you knew it it was time to go. Stepping out of the bathroom after getting changed you could feel your friend’s eye on you “god (y/l/n), you have no business looking that hot!” Trying to disguise the smile that was etched on your face as you weren’t expecting those words to leave her mouth, “not bad yourself Brighty!” you tried to play it off. Rach had already said that if it feels right go for it but to tell her everything after, so you weren’t completely off the table to each other while you were away. Snapping a few photos and sending them to Rach before heading into town to meet Ellie, Alex, Chloe and Demi in a karaoke bar. Later that evening Lucy and Keira made an appearance too.

Part Six - FWB 🔞

[uma1ra]

The recitation of this du’a was after Musa (as) was forced to escape from the city, into the desert, and headed towards Madyan.

After a long journey, Prophet Musa (as) came across a group of male shepherds who were watering their flock at a well. Keeping their distance, he noticed two women waiting in the back with their sheep. Why? For whatever reason, they felt it was safer to wait than to mix with the men who were gathered at the well.

They explained to Musa (as) that their father was an old man and unable to feed their flock, so they had to take on this duty. Now keep in mind that Musa (as) himself was disheveled and exhausted from his travels, he likely did not have much to eat or to drink. Still, he empathized with their situation, “So he watered (their flocks) for them; then he turned back to the shade…”(28:24) as he turned back to the shade he recited this du’a, Rabbi innee limaaa anzalta ilaiya min khairin faqeer meaning, “My Lord, indeed I am, for whatever good You would send down to me, in need.”

Musa (as) acted in an honorable manner to help these women in a foreign town amongst strangers. He prayed to Allah, asking him to provide more opportunities to do good acts like the one he just did. Also note, after having helped the women he did not stay and mingle, it says “watered (their flocks) for them; then he turned back to the shade”. Musa (as) in this du’a also uses his state by saying that he is faqeer meaning in dire need, or in poverty.

LESSON FROM THIS DU’A

What we can learn from this du’a is if you have any skeletons in your closest you need to pray to Allah and ask yourself what good can I create in the world today?

For Musa (as) the death of the man weighed heavily on his consciousness and he took on the responsibility for self-redemption. Whatever opportunities presented itself to do good was viewed by him as blessing from Allah to right his wrongs.

Ask yourself, how can I make it so that my being here has made the world a better place and not worse?

This does not mean we need to build a foundation helping millions of people, what’s important is that we just start somewhere. What you can do today with what you have is enough, don’t put starting off to some arbitrarily defined point in the future. Avoid the chatter in your mind that wants to procrastinate, “oh, once my kid graduates from high school” or “oh, once I have this, that and the other thing, then I can…”. This is a very dangerous way to rationalize not doing anything because you it’s very easy to begin to believe it.

WE ONLY HAVE A LIMITED TIME ON THIS PLANET

The average person will have 900 months on this planet (that’s 75 years if you do the math) and our childhood occupies 216 months of that (684 months left), this does not include all the months that are lost to sleeping, watching TV, commuting, and working which probably takes up another 70%.

This leaves us with 205 months.

That number scares me.

I tell you this because we should feel a sense of urgency to act now. As the proverb goes, “the best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago, the second-best time is now”.

The sooner you plant the more of a chance you give yourself that the seed can grow and flourish into something much bigger than you ever could have imagined. But even if reality did not match your ambition how could you be saddened by the fact that, (1) you put yourself out there and tried and (2) that you still touched the life of one individual for the better?

And so, we learn through Musa (as), the best way to act and bury your bad deeds is to pile on a much greater ratio of good deeds. Every chance to do good is an opportunity that Allah has bestowed upon you, so you should take it and run. Wake up every day and try to see all the opportunities around you, be grateful to Allah you get the privilege to be of service today.

[sjsmith56]

The Danger - Chapter 29, Lord Buchanan

Summary: An approaching asteroid sends everyone into frantic preparations. Bruce leaves for a missile silo to program the missile to intercept, while Ileana prepares to defend the castle against extremists.

Length: 4.2 K

Characters: Lady Buchanan, Bruce, Wallis, Tom.

Warnings: ignorant people putting others in jeopardy

<<Chapter 28

☄️ 🏰

After Rhodes and Quin left, Ileana returned to the castle where she was summoned by Bruce.  He was almost frantic and asked where Buchanan was.  When she explained he swore vehemently.

"There is a good chance we will be hit by another asteroid," he said.  "I just received notice on the radio from Sam.  There is another one headed for us.  We have until tomorrow noon but this one is coming directly at us, not at an angle like the other one.  We need to get people prepared to take cover."

"Is there time to program a missile to hit it above the atmosphere?" she asked.

"Possibly," he said.  "I'm going on the ham radio right away and contacting the Western Plains scientists for the latest data.  In the meantime, I would urge you to sound the alarm."

Ileana ran back out to Wallis and told him what had been learned.  He promised to send out the word and encourage people to stock food and strengthen their homes.  There had been a groundswell of offers from tenant farmers and the like to send labourers on to warn others after the last encounter.  She told him that she would try to get a better idea of the time frame as soon as she could.  Another warning system that was suggested after the previous event was the unfurling of a bright red flag on top of the castle.  She gave orders that it be flown then summoned the castle staff to the reception room.

"Dr. Banner has advised me of a warning of another asteroid approaching the planet," she announced.  "The red flag has been put up, and Acting Commander Wallis is sending out what soldiers he can to warn the tenants.  Board up the windows and begin setting up beds and bedding in the lower levels of the castle for people to sleep on.  We can probably expect some people to come here for shelter so we must have food and water ready for them."

"Where is Lord Buchanan and Commander Rhodes?" asked one of them.  "Shouldn't they be here?"

"They left on an emergency this afternoon before the warning was given," she replied.  "I can only hope they are able to return soon.  Now please prepare yourselves."

She was satisfied to see everyone take her warning seriously and went to the room where the ham radio had been set up.  Bruce was already there, talking to the Western Plains scientists who were running the latest figures into the computer.  What they came back with was alarming but also provided some hope.  He would have time to program one of the missiles.  They suggested the one that was furthest from the castle, in Baroness Romanoff's lands, was in the best position to intercept.  If he left immediately, moving as quickly as possible, he would have time to input the changes.  If the numbers were accurate it would break the space rock into several significantly smaller pieces, that would likely explode high enough in the atmosphere that the effect of the blasts would barely reach the ground.  Bruce signed off and looked at her.

"I have to go," he said.  "Do me a favour.  Contact Silas Brenson.  I'll need his help at their missile.  If I run I can get there in an hour and program the missile to intercept it.  Wish me luck."

He ran out of the room as Ileana went to the window.  When he appeared in the courtyard, she watched with disbelief as he jumped over the courtyard wall and began running in great leaps and bounds through the countryside. She watched until he was out of sight.  Returning to the radio room she contacted the Land of the Ancient Mountains on their frequency.  To her relief, Silas answered and she relayed Bruce's message.  They had also received the warning and were preparing their tenants for the blast.  Silas promised to go to the missile and wait for Bruce, signing off with promising words.

"It will be alright, Lady Buchanan.  We will send the missile and hope the ancient's handiwork has withstood the test of time."

The day turned into evening, followed by the night.  Bruce had not returned, nor had he contacted them by radio.  Ileana stayed in the radio room and directed that a bed be brought in for her so the station could be manned.  Mary brought her food and coffee, asking if there were any word.

"None," replied Ileana.  "The preparations ... are they complete?"

"Yes M'Lady," replied Mary.  "We are as ready as we can be.  Even though I wish Lord Buchanan were here you have handled the situation as well as he would have.   Your calm directions were exactly what everyone needed."

"I don't feel calm," admitted Ileana.  "I'm afraid of the asteroid and worried about James.  It was unlike him to ride off without a word.  I fear whatever force affected Sky has affected the wolf within him."

"He told me the Sorceress impressed upon him the desire to always return to you," said Mary.  "If he has become the wolf again he will return to his mate, of that I am sure."

The older woman took Ileana's hand while she said the words to her and Ileana returned the sentiments with a smile. She said nothing to the older woman that her smile felt false due to the fears that lay within her.  Still, she appreciated Mary's attempt to comfort her.  At least, now that they had Livia, there was an heir to the Buchanan estate, and the Barnes' line would continue.  It was late when radio crackled with a call, and Bruce's voice came over the speaker.  She responded with relief.

"Bruce, did you get there in time? Over," said Ileana.

"Yes, I did," he replied.  "I've programmed the missile with the numbers.  Silas is going to stay with me as it takes two of us to launch with the fail safes that they built in.  We will launch tomorrow morning at 10:32.  It should hit the asteroid several hundred miles up minutes later.  Make sure everyone is under cover.  The flash alone can blind people even though it will happen far over the northern ocean.  I'm sending this message out to everyone and it will be relayed further along but I need you to contact the other ham radio and let them know. Over."

"Okay, I'll contact them now," said Ileana.  "Stay safe, Bruce.  Over and out."

Ileana sat in front of the ham radio and followed the instructions for contacting the other radio.  They responded and she gave them Bruce's message.  It was acknowledged and they signed off, leaving her to consider whether she had done everything possible to prepare.  Feeling constrained, Ileana loosened her corset, then took it off entirely.  Taking the battery light with her she checked on Livia, thankful to have Mary to make sure her daughter was tucked in, while she handled all the emergency preparations.  The older woman seemed to have made sure everything was locked down already, filling Ileana with a sense of gratitude.  What would she do without the housekeeper?   A wave of emotion come over Ileana as she recalled how she had agonized about staying in this world with James, wondering if she could ever get used to the strangeness and the old fashioned ways.  But even with the discovery of modern machinery and the inventions that had followed it was the people who made her feel at home.  This place was home; this castle, this estate and its people were her world.  With that knowledge warming her Ileana returned to the radio room and laid on the bed that Mary had arranged for her.  She turned off the battery light and eventually slept.

"Ileana, my love," said James, his blue eyes boring into her.  "Speak to me, my beauty."

"James," whispered Ileana.  "Where are you?"

"I'm safe," he answered.  "They know.  The wolves know the land is in danger.  They've been rounding up the animals and taking them to safety.  I'm with them now.  Sky is such an incredible creature.  He knew me right away.  I sense his thoughts.  He chose us, Ileana, that night in the mountain hut.  My wolf appeared to him in a vision and invited him to be in our pack. It is why he sought us out in the forest and followed us."

"James, they're looking for you, in the forest," said Ileana.  "Rhodes and Quin.  They search for you."

"No ... it's not safe," said James, fear in his voice.  "I'll have to search them out and bring them here.  I'll make the others accept them, even though they are human.  Have you prepared the people for it?"

"Yes, we're prepared.  They're going to send a missile at it," she whispered in her sleep.  "Bruce and Silas have programmed a missile to intercept it high above the atmosphere over the northern ocean.  Tomorrow, at 10:32."

"Once the danger is over I will come back to you," he said, his blue eyes still intent on her.  "Sky and I will return, I promise."

"James...," whispered Ileana.  "Don't leave me again."

"Never," he replied, then he showed his face, his white fur striking against his blue eyes. "Even if I am forever a wolf, I will never leave you."

She saw him completely now, a large white wolf, the colour of snow, his blue eyes burning into hers.  He was in the forest, in the mist, then he turned and ran back into the trees, his body blending in with the foggy background. 

"James," she whispered once more, but he was gone.

Ileana woke up with a start, the dream fresh in her mind.  There was no doubt that James had spoken to her across the distance.  She got out of the bed and looked out the window at where the dawn was already sending its orange ribbon across the horizon.  The memory of the morning after their wedding night came to her when she saw the ribbon across the far sky, signalling that James would leave her for war in a short time.  This time, maybe it signalled his return to her once more.  Feeling the need to change into her leathers she looked out the door to see if there was anyone who could stay with the radio.  Buchanan's dresser, Tom, was coming up the stairs and she beckoned to him.

"Are you familiar with the operation of the radio, Tom?" she asked.

"I have seen it in operation but have not used it," he admitted.

She showed him how to respond, to send and receive, and to end each sent transmission with the word "Over" to signal to the other party that it was their turn to talk.  He took it all in and she left him there with the promise she would return as quickly as she could.  Then taking off at a run she returned to her quarters, quickly stripped her clothes off and left them draped on the chaise lounge chair.  After putting her undergarments on she pulled on her breeches, then her tunic, vest and jacket.  She fastened her scabbard and pulled her sword partially out of its sheath, then quickly inserted it back in and fastened it to the belt.  Quickly she braided her hair in a single French braid then ran back to the radio room.  Tom was still at the station but said there had been no calls.

"Can you go and awaken Wallis, and Mary, and see if Cook can send some food up to me," she requested.  "They will send a missile up this morning to intercept the asteroid.  I want everyone indoors because when it hits the target the light it generates will blind a person's eyes.  Now go, please."

After he left, she waited some more, before receiving a call from the palace.  "Palace to Buchanan," said the voice.  "Respond please."

"Lady Buchanan here, over," she responded.

"I need to speak with Buck," said King Steven.  "There is word of a pending attack by the extremists and he needs to get Rhodes to prepare, over."

"He's not here," replied Ileana.  "He was drawn to the forest by his inner wolf and has transformed.  The wolves know about the danger and have been pulling all the animals to a place of safety.  He sent me a dream message.  Rhodes and Quin are searching for him and now he has to go out and find them before the missile destroys the asteroid, over."

"Damn!" replied the King.  "I would send you a unit of Guards but they would be out in the open when it happens. Barricade the silo and yourselves.  I believe they plan to destroy what they can.  With any luck they will see the Ancient Mountains silo launch and understand the danger.  I'll see if the Sorceress can create a spell that confounds the extremists but I don't know if her powers extend that far, over."

"We'll manage somehow," said Ileana.  "Thanks for the warning.  You received Bruce's instructions? Over."

"Yes, he called us last night," replied the King.  "As soon as it is safe I will send help, I promise. Over and out."

Within minutes Mary had arrived and Ileana instructed her to gather in as many people as possible into the castle, while passing on the time of the launch.  Just as Mary left Wallis arrived and Ileana shared the warning from the King.  He swore, then begged her forgiveness for his crude language. 

"We will set up the barricades at the entrance to the courtyard and again blocking access to the castle," he said.  "Can you radio the silo?  If they can get Farmer Patrick and his sons to help they are big enough men to scare off many.  Do you think we should close the silo doors and lock them?”

"Yes, I will order it," said Ileana.  "We need that missile and the computers that can launch it to remain intact.  Wallis, they plan to launch the missile at mid-morning, 10:32.  It is important that everyone be indoors before it reaches its target or they could be blinded by the blast.  Even the extremists.  If they don't take cover they may pay the price of their ignorance."

He bowed quickly and ran from the castle shouting instructions to the soldiers still left.  They conscripted the stable and grounds staff to secure all the animals indoors and begin building barricades to the castle.  Several rows were constructed starting out on the paths that would force the intruders into the bogs.  Then Wallis mounted his horse and began riding for the nearest farm to start the warnings.  Ileana got on the radio and called the silo, instructing the soldiers there to get Farmer Patrick and his family into the silo with them and secure his son's help to defend the installation.  When she signed off, an apprentice from the kitchen arrived with her breakfast, placing it on the table next to the radio.  She didn't leave right away which made Ileana look at her with concern.

"Lady Buchanan," she said, then burst into tears.

Ileana stood up and hugged her, soothing her.  "You're afraid aren't you?" she said.  "So am I.  I was in the King's palace when Prince Loke sent a force against us and I feel as afraid now as I was then.  All you can do is accept that you're afraid but to continue to do your best.  That's all any of us can do.  Now go back to the kitchen.  Cook will look after you."

The young woman nodded and returned to the kitchen.  Ileana checked the time piece for what seemed like the hundredth time, watching its pendulum swing.  As it got closer to the time of launch she wondered if the missile would be enough and with a grim laugh thought of how she viewed nuclear missiles in her home world.  There were the sounds of yelling coming from outside, drawing her attention to the window.  A small but significant crowd of men were attempting to break through the barriers at the entrance to the courtyard.  The grounds and stable staff were trying to keep them back, but several managed to break through.  Ileana barricaded the door and drew her sword, determined to be the last line of defence if they reached the radio room.  There were sounds of yelling and fighting coming from within the castle then there was quiet.  A knocking on her door filled her with both adrenaline and exhilaration.

"Stay back!" she yelled.  "I am armed and I will use force to defend this room."

"M'Lady, it's me, Tom!" said the voice, that she recognized.  "We have repelled them.  The few who survive have run away, like the cowards they are."

Trusting in Tom's voice, Ileana removed the barricade and opened the door.   Tom entered, accompanied by Cook with a frying pan in her hand.  Both had rips in their clothes and seemed agitated but were unharmed. 

"My word that was exhilarating," exclaimed Cook.  "I hit several in the face with my pan and they were like little children, running off to find their mams, and weep at her knees.  Tom, here, led the house staff against those villains.  The Battle at Buchanan Castle is how we'll tell this story to our bairns, eh Tom?"

Ileana grasped both of them, hugging the pair with all of her emotion.  "You fought them off?" she asked. 

Just at that moment the radio crackled, with a broadcast to all from the missile silo in the Ancient Mountains.  Silas' voice came over the broadcast.

"The missile has been launched.  Take cover immediately."

Tom and Cook both looked at her and ran back out to announce that everyone must take cover.  Ileana leaned out of the window and yelled down to the stable staff to take cover as the missile was launched.  She could see its fire far in the west rising up into the sky and arcing towards its target.  Running out of the radio room she called for her daughter then heard Mary's voice calling to her from a closet.  Opening the door she saw Mary cradling Livia.  Slipping inside with both of them, she held Livia close to her chest while Mary held them both.  A great flash of light lit up the inside of the closet as if it were day then the light dimmed. 

"Stay here," ordered Ileana, after kissing Livia, and touching Mary's hand.

She opened the closet door then went up the stairs that led to the top battlements.  Far to the north she saw a glowing ball like another sun that slowly dissipated but left a glow of yellow orange that resembled aurora.  She had expected the tell tale mushroom cloud, but it wasn't visible, and she wondered if it worked, if the missile had hit its target.  Tom appeared by her side to say there was a broadcast coming from the radio.  He looked at the glowing in the north then pointed out what looked like a meteor shower as trails of meteors began hitting the atmosphere.  All of them burned up well before they hit the ground.  Ileana returned to the radio room and listened to the broadcast.

"We have confirmed with the telescope that the asteroid has been destroyed," said Silas' voice.  "The missile has destroyed the asteroid.  It is safe to come out.  Repeat, the asteroid has been destroyed.  Any meteor trails you see in the sky are but small remnants."

Both Ileana and Tom ran through the castle telling people it was safe.  Mary came out of hiding with Livia and both women embraced.  Ileana took her daughter, hurrying down the grand staircase out into the courtyard spreading the news.  The stable staff came out and began cheering, lifting their raised fists to the sky.  Several of the men who had been knocked out trying to storm the castle looked up from the ground, demanding to know what had happened.  Ileana ordered them held and grouped together. 

"You foolish men," she said scornfully.  "So proud of your ignorance that you wear it like a badge of honour.  What has happened is a missile hit the incoming asteroid before it hit our world.  It has destroyed it, rendered it harmless, no thanks to you and your kind.  Begone now and never show your face here in these lands again.  You are banished."

"You are not the Lord," said one with a sneer.  "I will not take orders from a mere woman."

Wallis stepped forward and slapped the man with his glove.  "You insult M'Lady in our presence.  Begone or accept the challenge I have just issued you with a slap.  If I or any of my garrison see you in these lands or those adjoining, William Banes, the order will be given to run you through with a rapier.  M'Lady, do you concur?"

"I do Wallis," she said.  "Take your lives and go.  It is your only opportunity."

Some turned tail and ran immediately.  Some like William Banes grumbled and slowly walked away.  Wallis assigned two guardsmen to follow closely on horseback and make sure the men left.  Then he turned to Ileana.

"I know all their names, M'Lady," he said.  "I will give them to the historian to be written up and posted around the estate and those lands adjoining that they are to be given no shelter or work.  Fools indeed."

Ileana gave the order to change the red flag to the green flag and several men went up to send the signal that all was well.  As the stable and grounds staff began dismantling the barricades she returned to the radio room where she contacted the Palace, advising them that all the attackers had been repelled.  The King still insisted on sending a complement of King's Guard knowing that Buchanan's garrison had been stretched with guarding the silo, estimating their arrival by late afternoon.  He also told her of a travelling celebration being planned kingdom wide for the successful defence against the asteroid.  After they signed off there were more cheers from outside the courtyard.  Ileana looked out the window to see that Bruce had arrived.  She ran down to see him surrounded by smiling faces and being hailed as a hero.

"You might as well take the accolades," she called out to him, as he seemed reluctant to accept their hails.

"All I did was input some numbers and push a button," he said bashfully.  "Hardly hero material.  I should have been here giving those extremists a taste of their own medicine."

"Wallis, Tom and the staff had it in hand," she replied.  "Have you eaten yet?  I'm sure Cook can make up something for you."

"Aye," he said, then stopped himself with a smile.  "I sounded like one of the locals just then.  This place is finally growing on me, I guess.  I can wait until lunch.  Any word from Rhodes?"

She shook her head, unwilling to discuss it in front of the staff.  Turning back to the door she went inside and Bruce followed her to the radio room.  Mary had already removed the cot and a chair for Bruce was placed in the room.

"I dreamed of James," she said.  "He spoke to me to say the wolves knew of the asteroid and had taken it upon themselves to get all the creatures of the forest to safety.  Then he showed himself as the white wolf.  He said he would always return to me even if he remained as the wolf forever."

"There have always been theories that animals sense a natural disaster well before humans do," mused Bruce.  "We would do well to heed their warnings in the future.  They didn't do it for the one that went overhead but this one was extinction level event and they knew."

Bruce told Ileana to see to the castle as he was going to contact everyone and give a brief summary of the event.  Then he was going to contact the Western Plains kingdom and advise them of the accuracy of their plotting of the asteroid's path.  The correct trajectory of the missile had made all the difference.  First Ileana returned to her room and let Beth draw her a shallow bath.  As Beth hung her leathers up and laid fresh clothes out for her, Ileana began to consider what it would mean if James returned in wolf form, unable to be restored to a human.  She would have to run the estate as regent for Livia until she was eighteen.  All the doubts and fears she had when she first landed here began returning to her mind.  Was she strong enough to do it?  In a world dominated by men could she hold her own?  Then she heard James' voice in her head.

"We are returning, my love," was all he said.

Chapter 30>>

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[lovelessdagger]

Starlight - Chapter Thirty-One: The Devil Rings His Bell

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC, Din Djarin x OFC

Rating: Mature

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Smut

Warnings: Explicit Language. Horror.. Angst. Suicidal Ideation. Gore. Light Medical Horror. Nonconsensual nonsexual touching. Panic Attacks. PTSD. Everything goes to hell.

Words: 13k

Summary : “There was a point to this, there should’ve been anyways.”

A/N: This chapter is A LOT. I usually advise to read with caution but specifically here

Starlight Masterlist Here

Read Chapter Thirty Here

Read on AO3 Here

Objectively, this isn’t what Senior Officer Horix Kelis signed up for when he joined the Imperial Academy some twenty years ago. Stalking through thick branches with dying embers while being drowned from above. Oxygen tubes connecting from the boxy filter on his back to the front of his helmet does little to mitigate the fumes.

The mission briefing was short, conducted from whatever pseudo base was constructed on whatever Outer Rim scumhole that was chosen for the moment. It’s pointless to keep track of locations anymore, setting up only to relocate hardly a month after. Just another worthless planet filled with worthless natives who hadn’t the decency to learn Basic. Who dressed in animal hide and painted their faces with ash.

He heard his superiors talk the day before, bitterly recalling the memory. Moff Gideon and the Thirteenth Sister specifically requested the second best team. Being chosen was no honor.

It started off as twenty men packed into a cargo hold like a can of Naboo sardines. His personal team consisted of five, they crowded over a glitchy hologram. Prerecorded messaging allowed no questions.

“Your mission is to acquire one asset.” Gideon couldn’t be assed to give the report himself, and Horix assumed this Inquisitor was no better. The voice was the same as other report requests, some female lead on Gideon’s cruiser. “Target is female, estimated height 163, an estimated 25 to 28 years of age. Black hair, grey eyes, brown skin.”

A matching hologram appeared before them, a blue tinted figure.  One of his men, Coltin—someone who never had much respect for hierarchy and basic rules—leaned over to him. “I’d fuck her,” he said.

“You’d fuck your sister if she offered,” Netru, his second in command snorts at his other side.

He works with idiots, running his hand over his pale face.

“—accompanied by Mandalorian, Din Djarin.” Another hologram, the man from the rumors of Nevarro. “Master Assassin, Fennec Shand—”

“Ain’t she dead?” Furge muttered.

“—Bounty Hunter, Boba Fett—”

“Isn’t he dead?” Horix found himself saying.

“And an alien.” Ugly, but not the most threatening way to end. “Moff Gideon orders that under no circumstance are the Mandalorian and Child to be harmed. The asset is to be obtained unharmed. Lethal methods are strictly forbidden. Intelligence suggest active harm of any kind will result in your own termination. If captured, Officer Kelis is to inform Moff Gideon via coded signal immediately.”

The cylinder stick pokes from his belt, a single red button protruding from the top. His hand covers it when the others look.

“The asset is invaluable Imperial property, it must be kept in prime condition,” she says. The word strikes them all in different ways. Property. Like the clones who taught them how to shoot blasters as children, or the cards for sabbacc they could buy from the commissary.

Her throat clears through the recording. “I’m sure you are all familiar with the tale of Lord Vader’s daughter—“ They all look to each other, tension in the stuffy room. “Private operatives have located and confirmed this being to be her. The asset shares the same abilities and skill of her father. Perhaps more.”

“This is a fuckin’ suicide mission,” Furge says. “We’re supposed to go after one of them devil wizards?”

Suddenly second best makes sense.

None of them stood a chance, they were never meant to. Another expenditure by the Empire. They weren’t esteemed soldiers from a dwindling lot, they’re as worthless as the rest of the galaxy.

Horix steps in a puddle, wincing at his foot stuck in the mud. He could still have a chance to make it out alive, comm chatter indicated other surges retreating throughout the morning. It’s a tough decision, to leave with his life a coward or leave this life a forgotten sacrifice.

“How are you all holding up?” he asks to the open communication line. “Any updates?”

“Same as they were ten minutes ago.” Coltin. “They already sent and called back the Dark Troopers. Why are we still out here?”

“The Moff specifically requested for us to head this mission, because we’re the best.” Almost. “We’ll stay as long as we have to until it is complete.”

“Reports onboard Gideon’s cruiser said the Inquisitor came down to engage the Mandalorian.” Triemp, the youngest of the group. He never got to properly graduate from whatever academy he came from.

Lothal, Horix thinks. He’s still too skittish, like a frightened kitten.

“Bitch is crazy,” Furge says. “They said we couldn’t do that.”

“Thirteenth Sister can do what she wants. She doesn’t concern us—“

“Wait,” Triemp says. “Wait. I’ve just gotten word—The Mandalorian has been… taken care of?”

“Elaborate.”

“It’s just that. We weren’t the only ones instructed not to harm him. My source says the Sister and Moff Gideon were screaming at another on board.”

“Is he dead?”

“Gideon?”

“No genius, the Mandalorian.”

“Uncertain. If not completely, close to it.”

Netru speaks up, “…The Mandalorian is down?”

“Correct.”

“Have you heard anything about the alien?”

“Acquired by the Inquisitor,” Triemp says, gulping his words. “She’s directly gone against orders.”

“If she’s alone we have to get back to the ship or else we’re fucked.”

“Let’s not be dramatic,” Horix cuts in. “This was the Inquisitors fuck up, not ours. We still have a job to do. There’s no reason for panic.”

“You think they told us to stay away for kicks?” Coltin asks.

“I’m only saying we don’t know why, it’s foolish to assume.”

“She’s Lord Vader’s daughter,” Netru says. “What else do you need to know?”

It is a valid point. He—whether it be fortunate or not—never had the pleasure of meeting Vader. But his paternity isn’t the only story told throughout camps.

“You honestly believe she’s his child?” Horix huffs. “That’s disappointing.”

“Disappointing?”

“Well, if she is his child… they must share more similarities other than abilities.” A chorus of ohs echos. “I always believed Vader looked more like us.”

“I heard the Jedi kid that blew up the Death Star was his too,” Coltin says. “That kid doesn’t look a thing like her.”

“It is possible she is from a different mother,” Triemp says.

“A bastard?”

“Or he is. She is the one Vader kept after all.”

“Kept the wrong one then,” Furge says.

For once, they all agree.

“Focus,” Horix interjects. “We’ll regroup at the ship, figure out a new plan. Netru, what’s your status on location?” On their initial spread they planned on no more than fifty yards of separation. But he’s always been a wanderer.

With no other man speaking, he’s met with static.

“Netru? Come in. Report your location.” The static pops, crinkling. “KT-9248 come in.”

“Net,” Coltin says.

“The idiot must have walked outside of comm bounds. Furge, what’s your status?” Reluctantly, he answers with coordinates. Not too far off, closer to where Netru was meant to be. “Will you find him?”

“On it.” He drops the connection.

“The rest of you—“ Thunder cuts him off, a lightning strike over the mountains. “Get to the ship on your own.”

“What about you?” Triemp asks.

“I have a mission to complete. I’m going to find and report the asset to Moff Gideon.”

A female voice breaks through the line, honeyed and smooth. “That’s bold.”

“Sir?” Triemp says.

“You can contact Gideon?” Then more to herself she says, “But I thought…”

“Who is this? This is a private channel.”

“Dammit,” she mutters under her breath. “Stupid.”

“This is Senior Officer Horix Kelis, KT-7392 of Imperial Corp 7254 of the Galactic Empire. I demand you disclose your identity.”

There’s shuffling, a cough then steady breathing. “KT-9248,” she says, like she were reading it from a manual. “Netru Bolts,” she sighs, “Junior Officer.”

“Pardon?”

“That’s what his arm says.”

“How do you have Bolts?”

“Just his arm,” she corrects. “The rest of him is… here and there.”

“Holy shit,” Coltin says. “It’s fucking her.”

Triemp whispers, shaking, “Lady Vader.”

More breaths come from the end of the line. Spiking chills run up Horix’s skin. Breaking into a sprint , feet snapping twig and splashing in streams. “Back to the ship! Back to the—“

“I don’t know if I like that name.” She’s completely mellow, sounding dazed. “Lady Vader… Sith are given names—” She stops short, and humming enters his ears. “Hello. Which one are you?”

“Furge! Furge get out of there!” Horix shouts.

“Hi Furge,” she says. “I’m—oh, this is a lightsaber—an arm… I couldn’t figure out how to it take off. It’s in poor taste I know, but… yes, it’s his… I only wanted his help,” she snorts, “things got out of hand. Clearly. I won’t hurt you if you help me. I promise.”

The connection turns to static again, the surrounding rain and winds blowing out the mic.

“Sir,” Triemp says.

“Get on the other line, Tri. Contact the remaining, order every man to return to the ship immediately. After that I want you onboard, locked in.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Colt, get off the comm, I’m sending you my coordinates. We’re furtherest out, right now we’re stronger together.”

“Understood.”

The girl’s voice comes in again, more on edge, pointed. “Horix, is it? May I ask you something?” 

“What is it?”

“Is Furge lying to me?”

“What?”

“He says they took the Child. Is he lying to me?”

Stuttering, Horix answers no. Distant from the rest, a scream to awaken hibernation sounds. Breathing follows. Five inhales, six exhales.

“How many of you are there?”

“Twenty.”

“Eighteen now.” Cold. Missing the sickly sweetness it was coated in just moments ago.

Sick to his stomach he can hardly repeat it. “Eighteen.”

The humming stops, and her voice comes directly from the microphone on Netru’s detached arm. “Officer Kelis?”

He swallows collecting spit. “Yes?”

“You should start running too.”

---

“Wake up Mandalorian. Wake up.” 

Groaning to life, every muscle inside of Din tenses and every joint cracks. It starts with ringing in his ears, ending with vision restored to his eyes. His side is prodded by a blunt object, later discovered to be Fennec Shand’s foot.

“Lu…”

“Wrong Fett,” Fennec snorts above him. “I think he has a concussion. Should get checked out.”

He finds Boba, or three Bobas, the world a dizzy mess.

“Where is she?” The Bobas ask.

Din blinks, struggling to focus on the data within his helmet. Heart rate is at an all time high, blood pressure the same, oxygen levels too low. He considers the possibility of being dead, a void filling his mind. “Who?”

“Maker he’s lost it,” Fennec says. “Your girlfriend. Where is she?”

“Girlfriend?”

Concern now etches into Fennec, she crouches, face pinched. “What the fuck happened to you? Your girlfriend,” she says slower. ”Lumina. The one you were going to propose to this morning?”

“What?” The Bobas say.

“There was no good time to tell you.”

“Why was I not consulted first?”

“I don’t think that matters right now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Later,” she says. “Mandalorian, where is Lumina?”

Din groans again, pants unheard through his modulator. If this is how she feels after her increasingly common fainting spells, well he can’t blame her for getting sick each time.

“I don’t know,” he says. “Where’s the kid?”

The Bobas nod to Fennec. “Search the ship.” Then to Din, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I don’t know,” he says again. “I haven’t seen her.”

“Since when?”

“Since…” He frowns. When did he see her last? She was there last night. This morning before she left on her walk… Din coughs, the sludge of soil uncomfortably wet under him. Nothing comes back to him as a clear picture, fuzzy understandings lingering in his mind.

There’s a fire, a storm… Imperials. She came out of the woods at some point with the Child…

Din blinks, only now noticing wetness on his face, too cold to be blood. It hits him like a ship thrown out of hyperspace.

“Lumina,” he says panicked, sitting up far too quick. He speaks again, surprising himself with the anger it comes with. “That fucking bitch.”

A blaster bolt flies against Din, sparking beskar right over the left side of his chest. Knocked back fully to the ground again, the three Boba’s turn back to one with proximity. His soiled boot keeps Din pinned, blaster and wrist gauntlet pointed to his head.

“What the fuck—” Din gasps.

“Ne shab'rud'ni,” Boba says. “I don’t give a fuck what she did to you. If you ever disrespect her again, you’ll wish she got to you first. Am I understood?”

 “Fett!” Fennec stands at the top of the Crest’s ramp, unfazed by the scene. “We have a situation.”

“I’ll say.”

“The Child is missing.”

While Din’s head snaps the best it can to her direction, Boba removes himself, holstering his gun. “What do you mean missing?”

“As in he’s not here.”

“The Jedi took him,” Din says. He tries to stand again, slow, an eye constant on Boba.

“What Jedi?”

“She came with the TIE… had a red one of those laser swords.”

“Fuck.”

“What’s going on?” Fennec asks, jumping off the ship.

“Inquisitors,” Boba says.

“They’re all dead.”

“So are we.” He points to he sky. “And the Empire. And her. We’re all supposed to be dead, none of it matters.”

“But if they’re here then—“

“We’re too late. It’s already happened.” Boba grabs Din by his shoulders, despite the height difference and with significant strength. “Mandalorian, where is she?”

“She left,” he says.

“Left where?”

“I don’t know. She was talking about Gideon and—“ His hand leans against his head. “Fuck.”

“He needs a medic,” Fennec decides, approaching. “Concussion, internal bleeding, who knows what they did to him.”

“Mandalorian,” Boba says.

Din doesn’t mean to snap, or at least he doesn’t think he does. Nothing feels like himself. “What?”

“I need you to tell me everything you remember.”

“She said—“ It’s like he’s filled with static, memories glitching from one thing to another. “She… wanted to talk to him and—I don’t know. I…” He takes a breath, collecting his thoughts with the ground. “I was with her and she was crying and I— we… I had her. She promised she wouldn’t leave anymore. She promised she’d stay.” He looks up. “Then all I wanted was to get away from her. So I took the kid and I left.” 

Fennec looks dumbfounded, he’s sure Boba shares the same expression.

“Let me ask you something,” Boba says. “Do you love her?”

“What?”

“You wanted to marry her right? Do you love her?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t you rather she be here then?”

“…No.”

“Why?”

Din sits with himself, silent. He doesn’t have an answer, not one that won’t result in another assault from Boba. He can’t say the thought of her makes him irrationally angry. That he gave her everything, every piece of himself and she still left. Again. 

But… he’s the one who left ultimately. He grabbed Grogu, he agreed to it, he knew what it meant, the conditions she set. 

Pounding intrudes on his head again, the conflict more painful than the blows from the not Jedi.

“She’s in trouble,” Boba continues. “Do you understand that? We have to find her—”

“My kid is in trouble,” he counters. “She can take care of herself. What I need to worry about is getting him back.”

Boba’s arm sticks out behind him. “Fennec, hand it over.” She places a metal disc, the size of her palm in his. Painted black, it flashes red. “Do you know what this is?”

Din nods. “A tracker.”

“Found it on my ship after you left. Whoever put it there knew we would come for her. All of this was planned. All of it. Do you know what that means?”

He says nothing.

“It means she knew. She knew the Empire was coming.”

“You don’t know that—“

“That girl can sense the energy of a city on the other side of moon if she damn well pleases. She spent her whole life on my ship, you really think she couldn’t tell there was a tracker?” His voice lowers, a whisper with killer instinct. “They want her. You will never understand how valuable she is to them.”

“Why? She’s not special like the kid, she doesn’t have—“

“Abilities? Powers? Never mind everything else, you know she can feel energy, that she hears things we could never. What do you call that? They have your kid and they’re not gone. Why is that?”

“…She said she made a deal with Moff Gideon.” He says this slow, coming to his own realization. “That’s why she wanted me to leave. Said he wouldn’t hurt us, the kid. That he’s scared of her.”

“She knew exactly how this would go. They fucked up Mandalorian. If she finds out they have your child—you’re the only one that can bring her to her senses and stop her.” 

“I don’t understand. Stop her from what?”

“From killing herself.”

---

Horix never met with Coltin. He took the girl at her word, sprinting before the last syllable dropped. He doesn’t care about being a coward, all he wants to do was live. Honor be damned. Being exiled, put on trial, discharged. He’d rather all of it.

He found Triemp first. The poor fucking kid, he looked just as scared as he always did. The others he’d rather not remember, though he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the smell.

There are five left, including him. Could be less and he just hasn’t found them. Coltin is out there still, but Horix doesn’t intend to look for him. He has to get to the ship, fly away, leave the sector, the Outer Rim.

He has to never look back.

It’d be easier if he knew how to get out of the labyrinth. If it weren’t for the fact that he has yet to see the same body twice, he’d be convinced he’s been running in circles.

He has no time, and yet it dares to feel infinite.

 Horix sees Coltin first. He’s held against a tree, four feet in the air. His hands grip around his own neck, feet kicking out. Then he sees her. At the base, hand passively raised only to her shoulder. She’s drenched in rain, possibly other fluids he won’t spend time imagining. She has a lightsaber, red, prominent from the rest of them.

“Don’t move!” Horix shouts. His blaster rattles in shaky hands. He switches the setting off of stun. “I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you I swear.”

She listens. He catches how her eyes roll, annoyed, pushing her hair out of her face. The lightsaber  turns off, and attaches to her hip. She turns.

“I said don’t move!”

“Officer Kelis?” she asks. “You came.” He could swear she’s relieved, voice like a lullaby. She looks at Coltin, tilting her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t need you anymore.”

Her wrist turns, and so does his neck.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she says, turning to Horix. “I’ve been looking for you. I need your help.”

“You killed him. You fucking killed all of them,” Horix pants. “You’re a monster. You tore them apart—“

“And I apologize for the mess. It could have been cleaner, I got carried away. That doesn’t matter now. I need you to help me, I won’t kill you.”

“No. No! You’re just like him—I’ve heard stories. Of your father—”

“Then you’ve heard about me. You know what they want with me, don’t you? What was your mission objective?”

“I don’t—“

“You’re the one in charge,” she snaps, then breathes. “You should know. What did they tell you to do?”

“Capture you.” He says this shaking, suffocating under his helmet. “To not hurt you. Not hurt the alien. Or the Mando.”

She frowns. She frowns like it were a personal insult. “What do you do after you capture me?”

“I contact Moff Gideon.”

“How?” He fumbles, pulling out the cylinder. His thumb hovers over the red button. “Do you have a rendezvous point?” He nods. “Let’s go then.”

“What?”

“You’re going to turn me in. Contact Gideon, if you can tell him you have me, do it. Then you’ll take me to your point.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to talk to him.” She walks forward, his finger waver on the trigger. “I gave him my terms, he didn’t listen.  So you either help me, or I’ll call him myself and you can join your friends. It’s your choice.”

---

Wiping her cheek, Lumina’s hand turns a dripping red, washed down her arm by the rain. Her chest heaves, soaked hair sticking to her skin. Her left hand clenches, nails biting into her palm. She smiles, the closed kind, full of relief.

There was a purpose to this, there should’ve been anyways. She looks to her lightsaber, drawing a scorch mark in the mud. It crackles with the wetness, a putrid smell coming with it.

She looks behind her, the troopers head—Horix—stares at her beyond the helmet. It flew farther from the body than she intended. She used to be better at that.

Decapitations are few and far between these days.

Her lightsaber attaches again to her belt, a breaking twig snapping her head to attention. She grabs the cylinder from his hand, cringing at the loose muscles.

It’s never not disgusting.

She clicks it, listening for the subtle whirling inside. It shouldn’t be too hard. Wait for the hold or TIE to descend from the heavens, make an entrance. Looking at Horix, she briefly considers bringing him as a gift. She decides against this, too tacky.

It’s his fault for not agreeing. All her plans have turned to shit, she should have expected this would join the list. Now she can’t play the prisoner angle. Not that Gideon would have believed it. But she likes having intent, it’s all lost now.

Dammit.

It takes two minutes for a ship to be spotted entering atmosphere, blinking lights closing in by the mountain range.

It’ll do.

Moff Gideon is a shorter man than Lumina expected. He stands by the entrance of a modified cargo shuttle, arms crossed in front of his body. He holds himself like a giant, gaze solid as stone, pointed forward.

The head would’ve been a nice distraction right now, the storm at last fading away for thick humidity. Taking a breath, Lumina pats down her now straight hair, pulling her shirt to not stick to her chest.

It’s important in times like these to make a good impression. To be presentable.

Lumina storms into the clearing, arm out stretched. Gideon slams against the hold before recognition arrives. His body lifts into the air, gasped breath and bulging eyes.

“I warned you what your insolence would cause,” she bites. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that child of yours. If you find such pleasure in direct disobedience and taking mine, just you wait until you see what I can do to yours.”

Words being too strangled to be understood, she releases her hold, just enough.

“It wasn’t me,” he coughs. “I told them not to—“

“Who?”

“The Inquisitors! I can’t control them, they’re like animals—”

Her body stalls before her mind, and she sounds like a little girl. “Inquisitors?”

“They need a leader. A voice to answer to, someone to fear, to show them the way. You—“ he coughs again, ”—they can all be yours.”

The notions tickles something inside of Lumina, hers. Nothing has ever been hers before. Always someone else’s, a temporary possession, a loan. Inquisitors would be useful… if not difficult all the same. They’d only want more power, her position, her favoritism. They’d be overgrown toddlers fighting over a toy. Then again, a toy can be powerful leverage. It’d give them a goal, ambition, meaning.

A reason to obey.

All useful to her, true. She wouldn’t have to bother in gaining their respect, it comes with the name.

Lumina shouldn’t listen to any of it. She knows the ways of Sith better than any living sentient in the galaxy. Then again… what else does she have to lose?

She lowers Gideon, keeping him against the durasteel. “Tell me more.”

“Some were recovered from Project Harvestor, runaways,” he says, face ready to flinch. “Others new followers, lost, greedy. Insubordinate.”

“How did you get them?”

“They found each other, and they found me.”

“Why?”

“Why else? Connection. Common goals. Three of your peers remain. Four including yourself. 324. 306. And 313.” Gideon catches the twitch in her brow, the split second of a dropped facade. It’s his moment to strike and he’d be a fool to not engage. “I would argue 313 is most eager for a reunion.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?” He takes a step forward, she takes one back. “You’re spiritual, I’m sure you can find the answer in yourself. In fact, it was 313’s idea to recruit you in the first place. Something about… making good on a promise? Does that ring any bells?”

“Shut up,” she bites.

He takes another step, and she trips on a rock. “You are nothing but a scared little girl. Understand I am offering you the galaxy.”

Her hand shoots forward again, trembling while he’s only that short distance away.

“Hurt me and the Child dies,” he says.

“Where is he?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Gideon—“

“Do you realize how much of my time you’ve wasted playing your little game?” He cups her cheek, ignoring her ragged gasp. His touch is warm, dry. “Look at you,” he mutters. He strains her neck up and to the right. Thumb and middle finger pressing into her jaw. “You’re perfect.”

Spit flies to his face, streaking down his cheek. He shoves her head away, hard enough to throw her to the ground. Mud splatters in her hair on impact. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says. “I have never wanted to hurt you.” He kneels to her level, gripping her hair to force a stare. “If you only listened to me before. You could have avoided all of this.” Her eyes meet Gideon’s, he stares at her cold, unapologetic. “What would your father say if he saw you now?”

“Do not speak of him,” Lumina mutters. “You have no right.”

“Don’t you want him to be proud of you?”

“Stop it.”

“He chose you for a reason. Everything Lord Vader did was for you, and you threw it away. And now,” he stands, circling her like a vulture. “You’ve thrown that away too. Look at the mess you’ve made. Do you honestly believe you can go back after this? That the Mandalorian, that anyone could ever accept you when,” he waves outwards, “this is what you do? What you are?” 

Lumina’s gaze hardens, head shaking.

“Did you think you could change? Take a hand at playing someone else? That is not how this works.” Gideon’s voice turns honeyed as he says, “Wouldn’t you rather be somewhere you’re wanted? Accepted? Where you’d never have to hide again?”

Gideon would make a good Inquisitor, she thinks. He turns into warmth, stopping behind her, kneeling once more. His hand grips her shoulder, the flesh of it bruising her. It’s as if a shadow follows him. It’s an enveloping darkness, pulling her hair behind her shoulders, stroking down her arms. Her back hits his chest, and shakes.

“Look at this place,” Gideon whispers. “You enjoy this.”

She’d prefer to sleep now, an exhaustion filling her bones. The ground is comfortable, softer than when it’s dry. Maybe if she did, she wouldn’t have to wake again.

“If you join me, I will give you everything you ever wanted. How does that sound?”

The shadow strokes her cheek, beckoning the rest of her to follow. It’s a hypnosis, singing to her in the echos of the Force.

The dark side has a way of dominating destiny. Forever a winding path, guiding the hopeless follower into the abyss. Ahsoka may have been wrong about her, about all of this. In thinking there could ever be more to her. Everyone was wrong. She is helpless.

The shadow whispers this in her ear.

Lumina doesn’t think it’s Gideon, non-Force Sensitives rarely have such palpable an aura to them. It can’t be her own either, she’s too friendly with it, too much a part of herself to be this distinct. The shadow is the same as it was this morning, before it all began.

Her hands are still red, darker now.

“Doesn’t it sound nice?” Gideon asks her again, but she can’t hear his voice anymore. It comes from the darkness, gentle still, familiar and old. “It will be like it was always meant to.”

“Yes,” Lumina whispers. Her muscles relax, head drooping forward. The shadow circles to her front and holds her chin up.

“You’ve been wronged,” it says. The shadow touches her again, a shiver flooding her skin. “With me, you can make them finally hear. Don’t you want that?”

She says, “Yes.”

 The shadow presses, words hissed. “Yes, what?”

Lumina falls against Gideon’s body, eyelids heavy. “I want Din,” she mumbles, the whiny sort.

“He means nothing,” Gideon says, distinct from the fog. “He only holds you back. I give my allegiance to you, my Lady. ” Her head is light, fumbling to reach her lightsaber. His hand falls on top, a strong grip. “Don’t.”

“Relax,” the shadow urges, and she does.

“What do you get out of it?” Lumina asks.

Gideon’s answer is simple, coming without thought. “You.”

And the shadow responds, “All of you.”

Then Gideon says, “All you have to do, is come with me.”

---

When news first broke about Corellia, Din never thought much about it. It was everyone else in the galaxy that became obsessed. They questioned how a high functioning Imperial base could run in the core worlds, what that meant for the rest of the regions, and the effectiveness of the New Republic.

The location of the base was in plain sight, a presumably abandoned warehouse, tucked in some alley. Pedestrians watched storm troopers walk in and out every day without qualm. 

As soon as the first report came out, written by some novice journalist on Coruscant, the whole of Coronet City was put on lockdown. Residents were arrested by the dozens, security footage from every business within two miles was seized for inspection. New Republic guards stood at check point bases on every other street, chain codes became mandatory upon inspection.

No one got in. No one got out.

To the citizens of Corellia, the new occupation meant the Empire never truly left.

The Senate didn’t care, no one did. They cared about image, brushing away their frayed edges behind riot gear and impromptu searches.

Din caught a glimpse of a news broadcast after Greef Karga told him of the incident. Some senator, a princess and former Rebellion leader, was the first to speak up. Spewing nonsense about needing to be strong and how the resolve of the Republic will not falter.

No one ever mentioned how the base was exposed. Only the initial report credited the discovery to the Red Axe Syndicate. No one else spoke of the so called atrocities found inside the warehouse. No one else gave mention to the reported dozens of storm troopers slaughtered like livestock. Not one word of the hazard crew called in to clean it all up.

As far as anyone was concerned, a base was found and promptly ‘dealt with’. End of story.  Should they find it, Din wonders how the New Republic will cover up this disaster. If they’d even care.

It makes Corellia look like child’s play.

He can’t all together describe it. If a bomb went off there’d be no disparity to the current scene. Storm troopers aren’t just dead. They’re unrecognizable and thrown about like cheap Life Day decoration. Bodies are broken and bent into inhuman positions. It could be debated if some bodies are still to be considered bodies at all. Or just pieces of it.

“Keep your eyes forward,” Boba tells him, leading ahead. “No use lamenting.”

“I’m not.”

“No use for thought then.”

“…Do you know how this happened?”

“Like I said, thought isn’t helpful right now.”

“What does Lumina have to do with all of this?”

A cargo shuttle enters their eye-line, parked with the oversized droids from earlier acting as guards. “I’d wager that’s Gideon. Hurry up.”

“What does he want with her?”

Boba steps over a torso—just a torso—and ducks under a branch. “If she’s with him, you’ll have to go in alone. There’s no telling how much he knows. If he’s smart, his goal is separation. He’ll tell her anything he has to to get her on his side. If he knows what I fear he does, I won’t risk being the one to cause her turning.”

“And what exactly would he know?”

Boba comes to a full stop, and he turns. “You should consider yourself lucky you’re not interesting enough to have anything to hide. Over time, it devours you.”

---

The cargo hold of deliverance for Moff Gideon stands surrounded by droids larger than man. They wear an imitation of black armor. Red lights acting as eyes scan the area, their heads turn from left to right and back again.

The export door to the shuttle is prompted wide open, the Moff himself paces around the inside. His hands clasp behind his back, cape blowing with every sharp and unnecessary turn he makes.

An officer stands at attention in the doorway to the cockpit. Were it not for his rising chest Din would believe him to be a droid as well.

The inside of Din’s head feels like a steady vibration, his neck twitches. Maybe Fennec was right, a concussion would explain the weight of pounding dread in his mind.

Boba already circled back to camp, were he here Din would have it in his right mind to make him stay instead. What does he care about finding her? The idea of her alone ticks a bomb in his heart.

Boba should be the one here, not him. She’s his child whether he’d be keen to admit it or not. Din has his own to look after, to look for. All she is, is a distraction from the real issue.

She wanted to leave, Din reminds himself. She saw him. He gave her everything and she left. He shouldn’t be here, not for her.

He doesn’t see her until it’s almost too late, turning in the bushes to make an escape.

From the very beginning, the very first day in the mechanic’s hangar on Tatooine, Din Djarin has inexplicably been drawn to the girl. Possessed in a way to consume nothing but her, to live only off her smile and steel eyes. He’s lost himself in her, finding a horrifying discovery that whoever he is, whoever he was before, no longer exists. 

She is a curse that has stripped him bare to all his inhibitions and he has so willingly granted this. He should despise her, he wants to. Everything in his head drives his logic to the conclusion that she must be left. To allow her to do whatever it is she does when she runs away. To take the opportunity and leave. Leave her, leave for good. That he would be happier beyond measurable belief.

And Din believes this.

But then he sees her. The same way he’s seen her every morning in the sun and every night in the moon. He can’t help himself anymore than he could on Arkanis, seeing her again. Barely an hour away feels like a lifetime apart.

The universe and all of its gods have guided him to her, and for what reason? What path could be so necessary he must face this constant torment? She holds a part of his soul he never knew was missing. 

Try as he might, he can’t leave her.

Not yet.

Not without leaving himself.

Lumina sits in the hold, back to the outside on bent knees, head bowed. Muscles tremble, a constant shiver from the incoming wind. She’s tied up, shoulders forced back, rope digging into her wrists. Moff Gideon paces in circles. He grabs something black at her hips, handing it to a droid.

Gideon raises a hand against her but the strike never hits. Instead he’s frozen inches before contact is made. The droids pull their weaponized arms against her, a unified step forward. All at once Gideon’s hand falls, as do her shoulders.

Din alters the inner mechanics of his helmet, sound readjusting to a new frequency covered in static.

A rush comes over Din, pricking from inside his throat. His muscles turn rigid, his vision almost red. He’s never had a clear grasp on her abilities, they make as much sense as the kids. But if there’s a chance… he may have a plan.

“Fascinating.” The voice comes from Gideon, paused in front of her. “What your peers accomplish with action, you do with thought alone.” He reaches out. “I see why he chose you.”

“I told you don’t touch me,” she mutters, riddled in exhaustion.

“Lumina,” Din says, just louder than a whisper.

Her head lifts like a startled kybuck, turning to the left.

“Lu, can you hear me?”

“Don’t bring him into this,” she whines. “You can’t do that.”

“Who do you speak to?” Gideon asks. “What do you hear?”

“I’m sick,” she whispers, though not as a response to him. “I’m sick. He’s making me sick, none of this is real. None of it matters.“

“Sarad,” Din says. “It’s me.”

She stiffens, looking both directions. “What?”

“Get Dr. Pershing on the line,” Gideon says to the officer. “She needs an immediate evaluation.” The officer nods once, he disappears into the cockpit and Gideon follows.

“Lumina,” Din says again.

She doesn’t waste time. “Where are you?”

“East. Behind the shrubs, twelve degrees to your right.”

“I can’t turn around.”

“But you can feel me. Can’t you?”

It takes a second, but her head nods. “I thought—How are you here?”

“Don’t worry about that.” Din groans, shaking his head as the pounding returns. “I came to bring you—Fuck.”

“You have to leave,” she says. “It’s not safe here.”

“How did Gideon get a hold of you?”

“Din you can’t be here. I mean it. You have to leave, tell Boba I’ll be fine. If Gideon sees you—“

“Can you stand? I’ll distract the droids, you can make a break for it while they aren’t looking.”

“Din—“

“Can you?”

“…Yes.”

“Okay.”

Scared, breathy she asks, “Are you real? How am I talking to you?”

He shrugs. “I have helmet hearing. You have super hearing. It’s convenient.”

She scoffs. “Yeah… yeah it’s you.”

---

Plans, as Din Djarin has long come to find out, are far better in theory than in action. What he expects to happen as soon as he spots his opening—as he aims down the barrel of his pistol, pointed at the exposed mechanics of the droid furthest in the ship—is for the bundle of wires to collapse into a heap of itself.

In time he will learn reality will never match expectations.

The droid doesn’t even stumble in its assigned position, eyes lifting from its harder gaze on Lumina out into the forest. The others follow its direction.

Their march synchronizes like soldiers, filing out the shuttle two by two. Unfortunate, but not impossible. He shoots again, now to the first in line. In their hive mind, they approach him, guns raised.

Shit.

The droids block his view of the ship, but he picks up the sound of shuffling. “If you can run, I suggest you do that now!” His pistol fires, each shot directed and with no impact. “What the hell are these things?”

“More than you can handle. Get the hell out of here before they kill you.”

“What about you?”

“Do you actually want me to go with you?”

The shutdown of his mind is one Din never expects or intends to have happen. All thoughts disappear into an opening abyss. He loses focus of aim, sight, consciousness even. The ability to process the wind, the approaching droids, her words. It all vanishes. 

Because he doesn’t. The simple and frankly obvious answer in his mind is no. He never wanted to do any of this, but he can’t say that. Not to her, not here, not in the middle of his failing rescue mission.

“Din?”

He wants his kid. He wants to go back to the Razor Crest and get the hell away from this place.

“Din?”

He wants to get away… from her.

“Din!”

Before he can act, let alone think, a hand of the front droid grips him. He’s lifted by the neck, dangling like a baby tooka from its mothers mouth. Despite his protest and struggle, he’s returned to the ship. Thrown to the ground he lands right in front of her. She hasn’t moved an inch.

Lumina pulls against the ropes that hold her, shuffling the best she can. “Be careful with him!” She barks. He isn’t sure they understand much of anything. “Din? Din, are you okay?”

An automatic response, the display in his visor runs through a heap of diagnostics, scrolling past his vision in orange text. Nothing’s broken, not yet anyways. Head trauma is suggested, whatever that means.

“I think I’m fine,” he mutters. “What—“ He stops short, seeing her. She’s drenched and bloody, red smeared across her cheek, her hands… dried mud caked in the creases of her pants, clumped in her hair. “What happened to you?” Gathering the strength, he rises to his knees. Cupping her face the way he has a thousand times before, his thumb wipes her cheek. “Is this yours? Did Gideon do this to you?”

Her face drains of color, the same emptiness he found in her on Corvus taking her features.

“You can’t be here,” she whispers, pulling away. “You’re not supposed to be here, it’s all wrong.”

“Shh.” He pushes hair from her eyes, leaning forward. “It’ll be okay. We’re together, we’ll find a way out we always do.”

She’s misty, distorted in motionless air. “No, Din, you don’t understand—“

“Gideon took the kid—“

“I know.”

“You know?”

Lumina leans against his helmet, shallow puffs of air fogging his vision. “Din, listen to me. I have to do things my way now, I can’t—I can’t have you mess this up. You have to let me go. You’ve done so much, you have to stop. Okay? You have to stop now.”

“Lu… I don’t know what’s going on. I feel—something happened. I can’t remember anything it’s like… I don’t know. What I do know, is that the kid is gone. Someone took him, I can’t get him back without you—“

“I know,” she mumbles. “That’s why I have to do this.”

“You, promised me Boba Fett.” Gideon stands above them in the doorway. Lumina slides her body in front of Din’s. “What is he doing here?” 

“I don’t know,” she says.

“You told me—“

“I know what I said,” she snaps. “I can’t—I can’t control him. I don’t know why or how but nothing I do works.”

“Then what good are you?”

“Plenty. You’ll learn that, but you have to let him go. He doesn’t have anything for you.”

He stares at the Mandalorian, face twisted in a scowl. “I don’t like surprises.”

“Gideon, you have what you want from me,” Lumina says. “That should be enough. Let him leave.”

“You shouldn’t be here, Din Djarin.” Moff Gideon says. “I should have given the order to kill you when I had the chance.”

“That’s your own mistake,” Din retorts. “Whatever she has for you isn’t worth all of this.”

“You have no idea what she’s worth.”

“Destroying an entire moon? Have you taken one look at the damage you’ve caused? Your own men are massacred because of what you’ve done. Does it mean nothing to you?”

To Din’s own surprise, Gideon lights up. “What I’ve done? You don’t honestly believe that I am capable of all of this. What aim do I have in gutting my own forces like fish?”

“What aim did you have in destroying Mandalore? I don’t care what information you want out of her. I came bring her back and that’s what I intend to do.”

Gideon paces around them, the heels of his polished boots click on the floor. Each step heavy with purpose. “She isn’t going anywhere. Not anymore. She will be returned to exactly where she was always meant to be.”

“She doesn’t belong to you.”

“Of course not. Just like her father, she is property of the Empire.”

Beside him, Lumina turns rigid, biting her bottom lip raw. 

“CF-318,” Gideon says. “How is he immune?”

The signs are the same as they always are. Her emotions become distant before disappearing completely, her eyes lose herself, her chest heaves, panicked and desperate for air.

Din’s reaction is muscle memory. His arms wrap around Lumina, the touch of his beskar cooling her feverish head. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “You’re okay, just breathe. I’m right here, Lu. It’s okay, don’t listen to him.”

“Lu,” Gideon mocks on his tongue. “Midnight. Gloves. Tracker. Ayy’Numa. Marie. Nebula. Estelle. Ellian. Omani. Atikya. Lu. Why do you insist on hiding who you are?”

She strains herself to speak. “Do not—”

“CF-318. You are Imperial Assset, CF-318F1.” He kneels to her level, squinting. Were it not for the combat droids Din would have his hands around his neck. “I believe I asked you a question. How is Din Djarin immune?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do,” Gideon says. “Tell me. Are you not strong enough?”

“I am.”

“So tell me why.” Snapping leather fingers, the droids form a new position. They circle the trio, guns all aimed… at Din. Before Lumina has a chance to react Gideon grips her arm, pulling her away.

She struggles against him, yanking until the rope burns her skin. “No, no! Gideon!”

“Why has he not listened?”

“I told you!”

“Don’t. Lie.”

“I’m not! Don’t hurt him!“

“Fire on my command. In three. Two—“

“It’s the beskar!” Lumina shouts. The light behind them shatters at its base, glass spilling on the floor. “I can’t get past it, it’s blocks everything! That’s all I know. I promise.”

Gideon, never one to be satisfied, throws Lumina at Din. She crashes into his chest, they almost topple over. “Mandalorians,” he mutters. “You lower yourself with him. Do you realize this?”

“That’s not true,” Lumina says.

“And what do you suppose they’ll say when they’ve realized you’ve broken the first rule of your programming? You have no credibility with him.”

“Lu,” Din says. “What is he talking about?”

Gideon’s expression flickers. “Does he not know?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she mutters.

“Do you have any idea who she is?” Gideon asks. “The power she holds?”

“I don’t care about that, that’s behind her. It’s behind us.”

“Oh but you should,” Gideon laments. “Since the death of her father, she is the rightful heir to the Empire. Hand selected by the Emperor himself to one day rule at his side.”

“What?” Comes in unison from both Din and Lumina. 

“That’s not true,” she says.

“Do you deny your inheritance?” Gideon asks.

She says nothing.

“Lumina—“

“Palpatine tried to kill me. He never wanted me, he wanted the other one.”

“The Jedi,” Gideon says.

“He had a choice. It wasn’t me.”

“And yet here you are. Alive. Why do you think that is?”

“My father saved me. He wanted me alive.“

“Do you honestly believe, the Emperor did not know you survived? That he is capable of making mistakes?”

Her tone strikes with hesitancy. “You don’t know him like I do.  He is selfish, and greedy, and his arrogance blinds him. I spent my life studying his weaknesses. I know exactly what that man was capable of. Mistakes are high on the list.”

“He sees you as his granddaughter,” Gideon says. “Your return is of his demand. He wants you. He needs you.”

Only now, Lumina falters. Din can’t tell what comes over her. Why her head falls back, why her breathes come from her mouth, or what she stares at on the back wall like she’d seen a demon.

“Stop it,” she whispers. “I don’t want—I don’t want you. Shut. Up.”

“What are you doing to her?” 

“Nothing. She’s deranged,” Gideon offers.

“She’s sick. Has been for weeks. You’re making her worse.”

“No. She’s only rediscovering herself, her anger, her loyalties. And you my friend, are the final piece.” He looks at the droids, waving his hand. “Allow Din Djarin to stand.” So he does. ”Follow me.” 

Moff Gideon guides him to a wall of screens, he twirls a code cylinder between his fingers. “I believe it’s time you discover the truth, Mandalorian.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your girlfriend.” He snickers from the word, plugging the device into the computers terminal. “I’m afraid, has been harboring a dangerous secret from you.”

Lumina stops talking to herself, short, all at once. “What are you doing?”

On Gideons command, two of the droids haul her off the ground. One grips her arms together, the other keeps its gun to her head.

“What are you showing him?” She pulls at her hold, to no avail. “Gideon let me go. This wasn’t part of the deal! I told you he can’t know about it!“

“What deal?” Din asks, facing her.

“Moff Gideon,” Lumina ignores, to his surprise sounding like a politician. Strong. Powerful. “I command you to stop and release me this instant.”

Display monitors come to life, static and blue. All fill with the same frozen with an image of Lumina. Sat in the Razor Crest, a growing bruise under her left eye.

“I apologize,” Gideon says, regretfully melodramatic. “I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”

On the screen, Lumina comes to life. Rustling plays through speakers before her voice. “Red Axe, Crimson Mission Report,” she says. The date and time follow. Over four months ago. “Current location: Trask. Previous location: Arkanis. Destination is currently uncertain, but I assume somewhere in the Outer Rim. I’ll update when I can. Contact with target has been successful. Relationship with target known as the Mandalorian is—” Lumina, the current version of herself, pulls against the droids. She strains herself shouting Gideon’s name, “—uncertain, and in development. No news of interest to report.” She sighs, hand rubbed over her face. “You know I really fucking hate you for sticking me with him again. I was better on my own. I left for a reason. As soon as you clear me to come back I’m gone.”

The next video plays:

“Current location: Hyperspace. Previous location: Llanic. Destination: Ryloth. Relationship with target…” Smiling, Lumina says, “Good.” Noise rattles in the background, she turns to it. “One second!…Get a better ship and I’ll be faster!” She looks back at the camera, grinning. “Really good. I gotta go, bye Lena!”

The next she dates hours later, bright red marks littering her neck. She pulls her hair in front of her shoulders. “I’m doing my job. You said to get close to him… I am not being disrespectful… no I know I’m not allowed to but… All of it?” Her eyes roll. “Red Axe, Crimson Mission Report…”

The next plays, cut to the middle. “Relationship with target is decreasing and really fucking annoying.”

Then the next. “Relationship with target, satisfactory.”

---

“…Acceptable.”

The videos never end.

“…Stupid.”

They play one right after the other.

“…Fine.”

Din hasn’t said a word.

“…Increasing in my favor.”

It’s hard to tell if he’s breathing at all anymore.

“…The best its ever been. He’s really great—at falling for it, I mean. No I just—it’s pathetic. Naboo is really nice though, it’s the most at home I’ve ever felt… I don’t know, it’s familiar.” The clip stays uncut after this, Lumina nodding, tying up her hair. “Technically I’m not ‘diverging from the mission’. My job was to follow the Mandalorian, I’m still doing that…”

“Turn it off,” she says. “We didn’t agree to this, turn it off!”

“Don’t.” It comes from Din.

No one dares to move.

“…I’m not that horrible,” Lumina says. “I can pretend to not be horrible. Very well, might I add. You know this.”

“Pretend?” he repeats.

“Din, I can explain.”

“This whole time. This whole time you were pretending?”

“No! No, never.”

“He is!” Lumina laughs in the video. “He’s been very… sweet to me, in his own way. And he’s started taking his helmet off. I haven’t seen anything, obviously, but, well it feels important to report that.”

Finally, he looks at her. She can envision his face, every line, every hair with perfect clarity. She wishes she couldn’t.

“You didn’t know her lineage,” Gideon says. “You don’t know her worth, her power. You have no idea what she is capable of. How she,” he points, “alone produced what you’ve seen out there.” His attention returns to the screen. “This is my favorite part.”

“I’m not attached,” Lumina argues. “I do not love the Mandalorian. I will not ever love the Mandalorian. And he certainly does not love me. I am perfectly capable of staying on my mission and completing it. Whatever it is, I can and will do it.”

The montage ends here, glitched and stuck in the middle of her eye roll.

“These are doctored,” Din swallows, “it’s easy enough to do. You have the technology.”

“I ask you this,” Gideon muses. “What benefit do I gain in creating a false narrative? When she excels at spinning her own web? Mandalorian, how well do you really know her, when she has been my payroll from the beginning?”

Din remains stuck on the screen, her broken image. “Tell me he’s lying,” he says. His voice holds no inflection, no emotion to bear vulnerability. He speaks like it were a term of business. Another arrangement between them, agreed upon over a contract. “That’s all I need. Tell me you don’t work for him.” He turns to her. “I promise nothing else you’ve done matters to me. Just tell me those are fake.”

“Din.”

“Tell me.”

Her mouth opens to close again, shaking. “Din—”

He stands in front of her in an instant. He stares at her the same way he did on the Razor Crest. Before it all began, stuck in the cockpit arguing about her return to Coruscant. “Are they real?” He’s venomous, rasped in a growl. “Yes or no.”

Quietly, she responds, “Yes.”

He says the same thing he did then too, “You’re unbelievable.”

“I quit right after Naboo,” she defends in vain. “I never knew it was for Gideon until it was over, I promise. I would never take a job for the Empire, you know that. Lena never told me why I had to follow you, I thought she was getting back at me for Corellia, that it was another punishment or a joke. Din you have to believe me.”

“Why? You said so yourself, you lied about everything. It’s what you do. So why the hell should I believe you on this?”

Lumina has no response to give. 

And he says, “I’m done with you.”

Nothing inside her is intact. “What?”

“I’m done. I’m done, Lumina. All of this. Everything that’s happened, everything we’ve done. Everything I’ve done for you. It meant nothing.”

“No, no it meant everything—”

“You lied to me.”

She pulls against the droids, bruising her arms. “You think I wanted to?”

“Trust me you don’t want to know what I think.”

 “Relena owned me. If I didn’t do what she wanted I—you know what they did to me. You know what everyone has done to me. I have to listen! I had no where else to go.”

“You had me!” She can’t remember the last time he shouted at her, and she flinches like he were any of the others. “You had me, and you left. That was your choice. I told you then, I’ll tell you now, it’s always been your choice. You left. You went back to that shit hole. You took the job. You work for the Empire. Not Relena. Not Neri. Not your father. You.”

“I told you, I didn’t know—”

“You didn’t know?” he mocks. “Who the fuck else wants anything to do with me Lu?”

“I wasn’t hurting you, I didn’t think it mattered.”

“You’re so fucking stupid.” Din scoffs, shaking his head. She thought there was nothing left inside, that her tears were spent. “Cara was right about you.”

She was wrong.

“Don’t say that—“ she whispers.

“You’re a selfish entitled brat. You can’t stand one second away from yourself to think about who you might hurt. Or you and you just don’t care. The moment anyone tells you anything you break down like a child because you know exactly who you are.”

A dam breaks inside. The light above pops and burns out, her jaw clenched. “Stop it.”

He doesn’t flinch. “Oh I’m sorry your highness, did I offend you?”

“That’s not fair.”

“I’m past being fair.”

“Din—“

He steps to her, like it were instinct with a clenched fist glued to his side. “Say my name one more time.” He shakes his head. “I gave you everything I had. Everything you never got. Not because anyone told me to, because I wanted to. Because I was stupid enough to think you had an ounce of good inside of you. I wanted to marry you. I trusted you with my son—“ He stops. He looks at Moff Gideon whose sly smile only grows.

“Where’s my kid?” Din asks. “Do whatever you want with her, I want my kid.”

Moff Gideon shrugs at the Mandalorian. He’s leaned against the entrance of the cockpit and he shrugs. “Ask her. The attack on you was her idea. I thought we had an agreement you were to be left alone, or else I would’ve done it myself.”

Lumina manages her voice before Din, who whips his head so fast it might actually break. “What?”

“318, now is not the time to be daft,” Gideon says. “The jig is up, you’ve been caught. It’s best to admit it, there’s no going back for you.”

“What did you do?” Din sneers.

“Nothing!” she stutters, a laugh, as panicked as ever coming out. “I would never—I don’t know what he’s talking about. You—You know how much I love him, I would never. He’s my baby too, I wouldn’t—“

“He’s my kid,” Din interrupts. “He’s only my kid, you are nothing to him anymore. Do you understand that? What did you do?”

“Nothing!”

Another light goes out.

Gideon’s tongue clicks the roof of his mouth. “318, I’ve told you I have no use for the Child anymore. Clearly your plan has again failed. I implore you to tell him the truth for once.”

“Shut up!” she snaps.

“Where’s the kid Lumina?”

“I already told you, I don’t know.”

“If you lie to me again I swear— I’m only here because Boba didn’t want to look for you himself,” Din admits. “I didn’t want to be here to begin with. I never came for you, I came for him. What did you do?”

Slow, Lumina’s head turns to Din. Her mouth partially opened, her eyes to match beskar, glare. “You…” she begins. She speaks with deliberate pause, dark from her chest. “You don’t want to look for me.”

“I don’t want to look for you,” he agrees.

“You want the Child.”

And he nods. “I want the Child.”

Huh.

Considering all possibilities… Lumina ultimately decides Gideon is right. There is no going back. She does an awfully good job at ruining herself, its happened again with greater consequence but so what?

What reason does she have to care anymore?

At the end of the day she’s still alive. She still has herself. That’s should be all that matters. And it is.

Tears sting at her eyes, she tries to blink them away but they fall with no regard for herself. For six years she’s had nothing but headaches and nightmares. She isn’t proud, she can’t see herself as a victim. She only is what she is, no matter how horrible that may be.

What other choice does she have?

She sees in Gideon the same thing she’s seen in so many people. In Neri, Sully, Relena. What she saw in the mechanic who homed her on Tatooine. In Omera as her wounds were nursed and her body washed. In Tidhel and her stupid pretentious friends playing dress up in greed. In Petiko before his head left his body.

She almost smiles.

It’s exactly what she saw in Din. Sees in Din. And what Vader saw in her.

Opportunity.

Lumina looks between the Mandalorian and Moff Gideon. She can hear the analog clock tick away further in the ship. She counts the seconds.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven…

At thirteen she nods to Din, her lips pursed. “You think… I… kidnapped my own kid. My child. You think I’m that dumb to take him like this, and not the million times before that I’ve been left alone with him.”

The Mandalorian’s head twitches, and his fist unclenches.

“You, think I’m selfish and entitled and that I’ve been manipulating you from the very beginning. You have to hold yourself back from hitting me.”

Now both his hands turn to fists.

“You hate me,” Lumina says, eyes searching whatever lays beyond the visor. “You actually hate me now. You don’t think I ever loved you.”

“You never did.”

“Yeah? Maybe I didn’t. Then what?  You saw this coming.”

“I saw it coming.”

“You knew this would happen. You knew I never loved you. You always knew.”

“I always knew,” he mumbles. “I…”

She instigates, pushing forward. “What else do you think of me Din? Huh? I lied about loving you. So fucking what. Tell me how much you hate me Din. Tell me.”

The answer is instinctual. “You’re evil.”

“I’m evil.” Lumina scoffs, biting her tongue. “I’m evil. I spend my whole life trying to be good enough to be called evil, and you—I have been nothing but good to you. You, have never seen evil in your life,” she snaps like a whip. “Never.”

The hull shakes, the Dark Troopers holding begin expel black smoke from their chests. 

“That’s enough!” Gideon barks.

“Evil is letting your kid get murdered because of some blond cunt you don’t know. Evil is blowing up an entire planet because some princess won’t tell you where the Rebels are. Evil, Mandalorian is dying and leaving the only person who loved you, who you conditioned to love you without any closure!” The display monitors shatter, glass flies everywhere. “You want to talk about evil? You wanna call me evil? You don’t know the first thing about evil!”

“Does it make you feel better?” Din asks, as always only having eyes for her. “Hurting people like your dad hurt you? Do you think that’ll make him give a fuck about you?”

“What did you just say?”

“You ever think about why Boba doesn’t want to call you his kid? It’s because you’re psychotic. He hates your dad, and you’re probably just like him.”

Without a second to waste, every source of light in the room flickers on and off. On and off until the bulbs explode one by one. The computers of the ship power down to reboot three times over. The droids at her side collapse.

Lumina feels herself burn.

“Get him out here,” Gideon orders the remaining droids. “Now!”

“Where’s my kid, Lumina?” Dark Troopers grab Din by the arms, forcing him back. “Lumina, where is he?”

“Don’t touch him,” she mutters, pulling at her rope. “Don’t touch him. Gideon! Gideon don’t touch him!”

“Hold her back,” Moff Gideon instructs two others. They do and she is once again helpless.

“Lumina what did you do to the kid?” Din shouts.

“Get rid of him,” Gideon says. They drag him out of the ship, the squad of them with guns raised.

“I said don’t touch him! Din! Din!” 

Lumina screams until her throat is raw and the doors shut, trapping her inside. She screams promised threats at Gideon, throwing everything she knows. His mother, his sisters, his daughter, his status. He doesn’t so much as blink.

Not until she starts laughing.

“You stupid fucking cunt. You’re a fucking idiot if you think I’ll ever help you,” she spits. “You were so close… You’re a mistake, Gideon! All of you are the same. You. Fucked. Up.”

“Sedate her,” Gideon says. “Two doses.”

“You’re a coward! I gave you two rules! You think what I did out there was bad? Just you wait until I get my hands on you. You’re going to wish you were dead by the time I’m done with you.”

Lumina screams until a needle pricks her neck, blood running cold. She collapses, and the lights never turn back on.

---

“Where is she?”

The Mandalorian pushes past a questioning Boba Fett without a comment to spare. He limps, shaking out his arm. The droids threw him at a tree, and took off when he hit the earth. Surveying the area, there are less bodies scattered, and he sees Fennec at cliff’s edge wiping her hands.

That’s one way to do it.

“Where’s Adi?” Boba asks again, grabbing his shoulder. He’s stronger than before—or Din’s getting weaker, they’re both reasonable—forcing his entire body to turn on his heel.

It might be a Mandalorian trait, the ability to discern emotion despite the helmet. They both wear theirs, but he can still make out Boba’s tight jaw, his fleeting eyes darting back and forth.

“Who is she?” Din asks, hoarse.

“What?”

“Who the hell is she, Fett?”

“What’s happened?”

Din laughs. Shaking his head he points to where he came. “What happened? What happened is that she’s a maniac and apparently the Emperor’s granddaughter—“

“Who told you that?”

“Did you know?”

Boba shakes his head. “That’s not—she’s not.”

“The heir to the Empire? The chosen one to take over for her father? You’re the one who wants her as an advisor, all that education had to be for something.”

“It was the vision of my employer, I never wanted that for her.“

“Gideon says the Emperor chose her.”

“Impossible. Palpatine never knew her, we made sure of that. We both knew how dangerous it would be if he found out about her.”

“She’s working for Gideon,” Din says. “This whole time she’s been working for Gideon, spying on me. You want to talk about dangerous? Let’s start there.”

“She would never do that, she loves you.”

“I saw the video myself, Fett. She confirmed it!”

“Where is she?”

“She’s with Gideon still, wherever he fucked off to. Hopefully it’s hell.”

“Shit,” Boba spits. He moves from Din, speeding to the Slave I. “Fuck!”

“What’s going on?” Fennec asks. She holds a trooper helmet like it were a toy.

“We have to go,” Boba says. “Ready the ship.”

“Context?”

“Gideon’s taken her too.”

“Unfortunate, but I’m sure she can save herself.”

Boba leans over, whispering. Din can’t make out a word, but Fennec’s expression changes from passive dismissal to real tangible fear.

“You’re certain he’ll find out?” she asks.

“They wouldn’t wipe data like that. One test and she’s caught.” 

“Would they tell her?”

Boba shrugs.

“I told you you had to tell her yourself—“

“Now is not the time for a lecture. We have to go. I made a promise to keep her safe, I’m making good on that.”

Fennec motions at Din. “What about him?”

“He’ll come with us.”

“I’m not doing anything that benefits her,” Din says in defense. “I’m going back to my ship. I’m looking for my kid. I’m done with this.”

The moment comes as if on cue, and Din will forever consider himself nothing but a cursed joke of the galaxy. A green bolt of energy blasts from the atmosphere, shooting between the clouds until an explosion ruptures miles away.

In the exact location of the Razor Crest.

“You’re fucking with me,” he says.

“Like I said.” Boba comes from behind, a hand on his shoulder. “You’re coming with us.”

---

Din Djarin is perpetually stuck in a vacuum of space and time where he is forced to watch its continuance with no say of his own.

His body jostles with every movement of Boba Fett’s ship and he has nothing of value or importance to occupy his vision but the rifle belonging to her. Laid against the wall, propped and looming with shadow. 

It is shadow.

Everything is shadow.

He’s too reflective to be devoured by famine.

Fennec and Fett are upstairs, talking. Arguing. He can’t hear their exact words and he doesn’t want to. They can talk about him. Of her. Of them. None or all of the above. He’s lost the ability to care for any of it.

The only thing he feels is the weight of whatever he could save from the Razor Crest; two ingots of beskar, the ball Grogu played with, and his spear.

Nothing else remains.

“All I’m saying,” Fennec says. She jumps down to the hull, and Boba follows. “Is we could at least try.”

“No,” Boba replies. “I’m not involving her in this.”

Fennec holds some frame that she waves around haphazardly. “She’s been involved in this.”

“The answer is no. You don’t know for certain if she’s alive, and I won’t allow them to meet like this. We can do this on our own. I said I’ve found her before, I can do it again.”

With an exasperated sigh, Fennec tosses it onto the seat next to him, landing face up. “How do you suggest we get coordinates to Gideon’s cruiser?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“We’re on limited time.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?”

“Your sister—“

“Meg is the last person I want to talk about right now.”

Meg, or whoever, Din assumes is the girl in the photograph. Young and blonde, sat in the middle of a group of armored men. Each different than the last.

He looks at the photo then to Boba, and back again.

And again.

And a third time for good measure.

Or not so different after all. 

“I know someone,” he says. The first he’s spoken since entering the ship. “He can get us coordinates… If we go to Nevarro, I can get the assistance I need to contact him.”

They stare as if he’s grown a head, and Boba nods.

“I’ll reroute,” Fennec offers, and leaves the way she came.

The helmet does nothing to hide his stiff glare and tight jaw. “We’ll need more numbers if we don’t want to die on that cruiser. I know other Mandalorians we can contact on Trask. They can offer assistance.”

“Who?”

“Bo-Katan Kryze. Her gang. She owes me, or… her.”

“She’s met Bo-Katan?”

“You know her?”

“Of her. She’s a reluctant friend of the family. To put it simply.”

“Reluctant?”

“My people aren’t welcomed in most circles. Specifically hers.”

“Is she going to be an issue?”

His head nods to the side. “She might be.” Boba steps back once, then forward, then back again. “I’m sure you have questions, and although it’s not my place to answer them… do know I understand how you feel.”

Din lifts the frame, tilting for examination. “These your people?”

“Some.”

“How many left?”

“Of them? None.”

“Except her.”

To this Fett says nothing.

“Anyone else?” Din asks.

“There might be more of us laying around still. I never kept track of that, it was more her thing.”

“Anyone else?” he asks again.

“I have a nephew,” Boba says after a moment. “And a niece.”

Din nods, slow, careful. “Do you have children of your own?”

“No. She’s the closest I’ll ever get—”

“And you don’t claim her as a foundling?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t want to hear you say that you understand how I feel. I’ve lost my home. My child has been taken from me. I have been lied to, for months. I wanted to marry her this morning and she is the reason all of this happened, and now she may be dead. You do not understand an ounce of how I feel.”

Boba’s squint can be confused for a glare, or maybe it is and they are one and the same. “You blame her for this?”

“She should have told me.”

“And what would that change?”

The snap is as heavy as cut rope, and burns just the same. “I wouldn’t have gotten involved with her to begin with.” His chest aches, and the fire of the forest has moved to rage of grief inside him. “I wouldn’t have trusted her with my child. I would have never looked at her if I knew this would come from it.”

The glare now, is unmistakable. “She didn’t ask for this.”

“Neither did I.”

Din leans while his hands grip the plates of beskar on his thighs. “I’m getting my kid back,” Din says. “And if she’s still alive, you’re getting yours. I don’t care what happens after. That is where it ends for us.”

---

An Imperial Starcrusier drifting through hyperspace with no real urgency, rumbles and creaks. Inside the sterile white room, florescent lighting blinds. A male, appearing middle aged, paces. He wears latex gloves and a lab coat, wire frame glasses perched on his nose. He clicks a recorder in his hand, the mechanics whirling awake.

“Hello. Greetings. This is Doctor Pershing,” he says to the holoscanner opposite him. “Let this be documented as HoloLog Twenty-Seven in the Harvested Project. The first in the category subtitled: CF-318F1. Unfortunately, all known documentation on the subject prior to adolescence has been completely wiped. I will have to begin again. There is a lot of ground to cover, so for simplicity sake, I’ll make this as quick as possible.”

Behind him, a girl lays on an operating table. She’s strapped by all her limbs, completely unconscious. An IV hooks into her arm, wires of an EEG covering her head. Her heart rate projected on a second monitor, oxygen levels on a third.

“While enacting my employment under Imperial remnants to Moff Gideon, it has been my task to properly assess all Force Sensitive assets acquired. Mainly, these have been of the remaining Inquisitors. These were former inductees into Project Harvestor. This one, however, is different.”

He sits in a rolling chair, spinning to see her. “She is quite special. Imperial archives have listed this being as CF-318F1, marked terminated some thirteen years ago. The reason for speciality is that this is the alleged daughter of Lord Vader. Whether it is a genetic relationship or not is unfounded. The Daughter has become a myth in Imperial circles. Legends tell of a child raised and trained in the ways of the Force by the Emperor’s right hand. She has been kept hidden for years. Intellectuals such as myself all believed her to be dead or simply nonexistent. Until now. I am proud to say the forces of Moff Gideon have successfully acquired her for my studies. The question has plagued the minds of my colleagues, myself, and my superiors as to why she was favored, saved, selected. I aim to discover this.”

Releasing one of the girl’s arms, he turns it in examination. “It is completely organic, and appears human. Blood samples indicate an M-Count far exceeding that of the other surviving Inquisitors I have examined.” He snorts, pushing up his glasses. “It really is quite extraordinary,” he says to the camera. “I am currently awaiting the results of a DNA sampling.”

“Ah, it is best I mention now. Data logs from a recovered ship of Lord Vader’s details several times over documents listed under the code 631-120-282-024-618.” Doctor Pershing reads this from a notepad on his lap. “Almost all the information has been redacted, save for the name and one mention of a female. Should this be his child it is not unreasonable to presume the file is on her.” 

He ties down her arm again. ”I believe Moff Gideon knows more than he is telling me. He’s instructed perfect preservation of the subject’s—.”

“Doctor.” An Imperial Officer stands in the doorway. He jumps. “Your lab results.” She holds out a data pad. “Moff Gideon wishes to meet with you to discuss your findings. He says you may proceed with any questioning and studies you wish.”

 “Ah, thank you,” he stutters. “Yes. Please, tell the Moff I am thankful. I will meet him before days end.” Doctor Pershings walks out and reenters frame, the doors shut behind him.

He gawks at the data pad. “Maker above,” he whispers, grip tight enough to turn knuckles white. “This is… this is marvelous.” He throws the tablet onto his desk, scurrying around the girl. “I can’t believe it.”

He laughs, a loud singular clap to follow.

“More research is needed,” he tells the camera. “Hundreds of hours perhaps. But should my theory prove correct—“ he motions around the body, waving over her core, “—then I am in the presence of the greatest scientific achievement known to man—so far.” He shrugs. “I never thought I would see this come to fruition.”

 The lights in the room begin to flicker. Medical equipment powers on and off, the room fills with beeping. The girl begins to move, reanimating limb by limb.

“No no no no,” Doctor Pershings whispers. He grabs a needle, injecting a relaxant into her arm.

She groans, weak with a scratchy throat. “What…” She pants, blinking awake.

“Hello.” He crouches by her head, her eyes lazily blinking and soon blinded by a miniature light. “Have no alarm, I don’t wish to hurt you. I am Doctor Pershing, you are currently in my office. I have waited a very long time to meet something like you. If you don’t mind, I have some questions I’d like to ask.” 

---

Chapter Thirty-Two: An Image of Perfection

Taglist: @lexloon @jay-bel @xsadderdazeforeverx @spideysimpossiblegirl @sarahjkl82-blog @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

[alldimension]

DELPHINE LE MER - DUCHEX OF THE SEAFOAM COURT. strong willed and hot headed, delphine often found themself arguing with their parents about what it is that they would do with their life. as the duchex, she was aware there were many duties and responsibilities that she needed to attend to, but the societal pressures and expectations were what kept delphine from fulfilling their title. it wasn't until they became an adult, and the seafoam court began to rely on her to step into their role and make an appearance at the blooms, that delphine seemingly began to take her duties seriously. but though they do as they're told, delphine is often up to no good - she gets lost in the gossip and the drama of the party, making messes to see what mischief they stir now that all the fey are together again. fc: gemma chan. pronouns: they/she.

DOMA TERRA - KNOWN AS ZENA VANCIL, PRINCEPS OF THE AVIS MOON. a prime member of the royal family that disappeared from their planet ( kidnapped by raiders ) when they were eighteen. now 28, they have claimed their own ship - the obsidian - and started their own life in the galaxies. they participate in a lot of smuggling jobs, and they're well known throughout space, but they're known as doma terra, and they do not look like the princeps that was taken, which is why no one has found them, yet ( yet being the keyword ). fc: milla jovovich. pronouns: they/them.

HANS KRAUSE - GIANT SLAYER, WARLOCK, TWIN. sometimes, you go into the woods and never return. hans was supposed to be taking care of his twin sister - promised their father he would do so - but she just had to go into that forest. chasing after her, hans tried to leave a trail so they wouldn't get lost, but it's just his luck that all he had was crumbs, and birds like free food. coming across a dirty house with chicken legs, hans tries to get greta away, but she wants to go in. hesitantly, nervously, hans follows, only to come face to face with baba yaga - the high witch. the house begins to move before the twins can go back home, leaving the baba yaga to raise and take care of them. now an adult, hans is still much more nervous than his sister, even with the magic he now possesses as a warlock. his anxieties can keep him frozen in certain situations, and he's constantly overthinking. when him and greta are set out to fight giants, hans has never been so sure that he's not ready for something in his entire life. fc: aneurin barnard. pronouns: he/him.

GRETA KRAUSE - GIANT SLAYER, WARLOCK, TWIN. the forest was a second home to her, but this time, greta went too far in. she realizes that, but before she can admit it, she sees the fascinating house. it draws her in, the girl knocking on the door and staring in awe up at the witch. greta happily goes inside, dragging hans with her, ready for an adventure. she understands that they can't return home, now that baba yaga's house was moving, so she makes the most of her new life with the witch and her brother, learning magic, and gaining her magic from the baba yaga. she's unafraid of her training and education, and she's often soothing her brother through the telepathic connection to one another. once she's learned everything she's meant to learn, greta takes baba yaga's challenge of slaying giants and leads her brother to the fight. fc: katie mcgrath. pronouns: she/her.

EVELYN ABBOTT - HEIRESS OF THE ABBOTT FORTUNE & THE ABBOTT RETAIL EMPIRE. she's had to be proper and pristine since she was a child, and those expectations never ceased, not even as she grew into a woman. her parents, distant and cold, taught her that wealth was more important than anything, but evelyn continued to silently disagree. as long as there was love and kindness in the world, wealth was the least important thing to her. evelyn has to keep up appearances, and so she, too, keeps her distance from most others, never letting anyone in, only showing the side of her that is all business. but she longs for a more fulfilling life. human fc: allison williams. pronouns: she/her.

SIR MATIAS GREENLEAF - KNOWN AS GEM, LOST KNIGHT OF THE HOUSE OF MANYLICKS. he's the honorable knight that went to battle and never came back. he knows not his name, nor where he comes from - glimpses of a far off land often grace his dreams, but he cannot place the destination, and they're gone before he opens his eyes. staying in a cabin he found in the woods, shared with an old woman whom he helps to cut firewood and gather food, he only knows himself as gem - the name the woman gave him after seeing the crystalized eye that replaced his lost one for the first time ( one he often wears an eyepatch to cover up ). one day he'll find his way back home, and take his rightful place where he belongs. for now, gem must face the world and help where he can. fc: dev patel. pronouns: he/they.

[reachingforthevoid]

Dr Who: The War Games

At ten episodes, two (or three if you include the ‘teaser’ episode) episodes short of The Daleks’ Master Plan, The War Games is the second majorly epic story that Dr Who attempted. I split my rewatch over two nights, starting on 27 January 2023 and concluding on 28 January 2023.

It opens with our heroes, which is a refreshing change from the last few serials. I don’t mind the serials that start with new casts of characters setting up the story in which our heroes later take part, but it was getting a little bit tedious. The trio are getting along well, but after all of her bodysuits, it’s a bit weird seeing Zoe in a slightly too large trench coat.

The Doctor works out where and when they are, except he tells Jamie they’re in the past. Not for Jamie they’re not! 1917 is 171 years in Jamie's future. Anyway, we very quickly realise that things are not what they seem and this is not a return to the historical story.

In episode two, we hear what sounds very like a TARDIS dematerialisation sound. Not that much further into the tale, and the audience hears mention of Time Lords for the first time. Of course, as the serial continues, the audience discovers that the Doctor is a Time Lord! After five and a half years, the audience learns a little about who the Doctor is, and where he’s from, and why he left. I can only imagine what this must have been like watching in 1969…

Back to the War Games story, and the mystery unravels reasonably well. It is a dastardly plot, rooted in the misconception of Darwin’s theory of survival of the fittest. As in, only those who are strong survive (not those who have the genetic mutations that best fit a changing situation…). It’s great seeing a Black man, Rudolph Malcolm Walker CBE, playing a pivotal role for a few episodes, not least because in this serial it skewers the main idea of 'race'-based eugenics. Less good is what happens to the character.

The overall story is so driven by testosterone, though… I’ve heard that there was a direction brought in around about this time (it could have been a little later) about no women characters being allowed to be ‘killed’, which led to writers not writing women characters because without that risk to every character, thriller/adventure stories are dull. I don’t know the reasoning behind that directive, or the details, but it reminded me of the very real problem of everyone but the straight white cis man being more likely to be killed off. (rant starts) I don’t think the solution is ever to artificially protect the queers, the people of colour, disabled people, the women, and all permutations of human diversity in fiction, but just to make sure they are not the only victims. And stop defaulting heroes as straight white cis men. (rant over)

Moving along, gimp-like suits really were a thing in 1960s Dr Who. These security guards also act in a mesmerising motion of mime when they fight. Oddly disconcerting, but it does make them quite alien. 

Mind control bobbins is another thing that pops up a lot in Dr Who, especially during the late 1960s and through the 1970s. There’s some subtle stuff about who of humans are less susceptible to mind control. Like bandits… 

The Wars Games actually isn’t as repetitive as its reputation suggests. What repetition exists is there only so a weekly audience can keep up. Ten episodes is a slog to get through in one go, but splitting it in two parts is okay. The Time Lord stuff really must have been astonishing to the audience in 1969, as well as the doom laden feel of the last few episodes. The farewells to Jamie and Zoe are moving. They don’t quite get the Donna Noble treatment, but nearly. The regeneration has more to it than the first one we saw at the end of The Tenth Planet.

Salut, Patrick Troughton and the black and white part of Dr Who. It’s been fascinating to me to watch how television production shifted as technology improved. Also to see the changes in direction taken by the show in terms of stories told and characters portrayed. 

[professorathena-pokemonexpert]

These Poké-wimps can, and will, outlive 90% of all other Pokémon, and here's why

Welcome, trainers! I am Professor Athena, the professor who teaches new trainers about their Pokémon theories and observations! To start my journey, I am here to talk to you about some of the weakest Pokémon that can survive even the harshest disasters without breaking a sweat.

#0173 - Cleffa

Our first child on the chopping block is Cleffa, the Star Shape Pokémon! Upon first sight, this is a more confusing 'mon among the list of survivors. A 0.3-meter-tall marshmallow with 50 HP, 55 Special Defense, and 28 Defense doesn't exactly scream "fit for enduring a nuclear war". But, Cleffa has a trick up its sleeve that gives it a chance.

Cleffa, along with several other Pokémon such as Deoxys and Eternatus, is mentioned to hail from the cosmos. Already, this implies the existence of Cleffa on other planets or even galaxies, thus allowing the Cleffa population to continue living on even if Earth were to experience a tragic disaster. Clefairy, Cleffa's evolution, can also learn the move Teleport. While the limits to this move are not specified, it could possibly be able to teleport to at least the nearest un-harmed planetary body, but this is a bit out there.

Additionally, being able to survive in space allows Cleffa loads of biological advantages that would allow it to live in the now-apocalyptic state of the Earth in this scenario. Cleffa can survive extreme cold. Cleffa doesn't need oxygen and can survive on no/limited food and water. Not only will Cleffa survive, but it might also have one of the largest living populations of any Pokémon in a worldwide catastrophe.

#0557 - Dwebble

Up next is a Pokémon that could hypothetically survive for years on a post-apocalyptic Earth, given that food and water are omitted factors: Dwebble, the Rock Inn Pokémon.

Now, you can see that Dwebble has a pretty evident defense mechanism, that being the rock it carries around its back for shelter, akin to real-world hermit crabs. This rock alone could help it survive several world-ending disasters. Given that rocks offer a good level of shade and protection from extreme levels of heat, Dwebble could potentially survive the troubles of radiation. It also hides poor Dwebble from predators, which will be more rogue due to the lack of food around.

Now, you might be saying that Dwebble without its easily-detachable shell would be less than useless in the struggles of a cataclysm. However, something pretty interesting happens when you breed a female Crustle with another Pokémon of the Bug or Mineral egg groups. Dwebble are born with the rock on their back, insinuating that they have a rock-like genotype, that allows them some of the durability of an actual rock. Furthermore, Dwebble has Sturdy as an ability, allowing it to barely survive a myriad of different attacks. Finally, if all else fails, it could hide within the defensive pores of another, much bigger Pokémon that can also likely survive the erasure of most other Pokémon: Hippowdon. With impenetrable defenses and its sand-based diet, it will gladly live on when most others won't. Dwebble is known to hide inside of their pores, in exchange for dislodging the stones that may get stuck to form a symbiotic relationship. Dwebble could, depending on their diet, probably spend months or maybe even years living in and around Hippowdon for shelter in a cruel, post-apocalyptic world.

#0704 - Goomy

The final warrior is another insectoid Pokémon, and a fan favorite among the community: Goomy, the Soft Tissue Pokémon! However, this lovable pile of goop is more than just an adorable addition to the Kalosian roster. In fact, Goomy might be the most durable Pokémon on this list!

Unlike the other Pokémon we've discussed, Goomy can survive - and thrive - in the event of a worldwide flood. Its body is mostly comprised of water, akin to Vaporeon or the real-world jellyfish. Therefore, it can revert to a diluted state, or simply actively survive within the ocean. Goomy has a very simplistic protean genotype, allowing it to endure a myriad of water-based pollutants.

Chemicals? It thrives off its toxic slime.

Rising heat levels? That's what the membrane around its body is intended to prevent, or at least delay.

Excessive amounts of iron and other metals? That's how Hisuian Sliggoo and Goodra came into existence in Pokémon Legends: Arceus.

As for nourishment, Sliggoo uses its corrosive saliva to dissolve its prey until they become liquid for it to slurp on. Additionally, Sliggoo can corrode and dissolve anything it can, giving it a vast array of food choices, as well as offering it a great advantage in territorial combat. While often more potent/abundant upon age, the offspring of venomous species still possess venom with a similar/same composition. Therefore, Goomy would still possess that level of corrosion, allowing it to survive even without needing to evolve, a feat that is especially helpful for a Pokémon that first evolves at Level 40.

I hope you enjoyed this analysis, trainers! Tune into Professor Athena's Tumblr account for more of their lessons such as this.

[lyrker]

Malevolent Ep 15, “The Storm” Music timestamps (and basically a summary)

John: You Call It Madness (I Call It Love) (Russ Columbo, 1932)

Arthur: Faroes Song (Original piece by Arthur)

Reminiscent: Catagory for all the piano pieces that are not Faroes Song

Total “Faroes Song” Count: 5 (8:57, 16:06, 31:55, 35:30, 38:55)

Total “You Call It Madness (I Call It Love) Count: 0

Ep 15, “The Storm”

Desert in the Dreamlands

-2:10 “Reminiscent”

A piano plays a tune. It’s calm, uplifting, a tad mysterious, but overall beautiful.

Arthur stops to the sound of running water. He calls out for “Tess,” then Faroe. There is the sound of water, of Arthur crying and yelling for Faroe, and then he wakes up.

Faroe Drowned.

-4:49 “Reminiscent”

Arthur asks if everyone who dies ends up in the Dreamlands. John answers no, they go to the Dark World. Arthur asks John if he’s sure, and he answers no.

-5:33 “Reminiscent”

The vanguard tooth said Anna Stanczyk last night, jogging their memory it had to do with the mansion and the wraith, “God bless this baby Stanczyk.” The family was part of the puzzle.

-6:21 “Reminiscent”

John wonders what everything means, and how it aids them. Arthur says it doesn’t, not in any way they can see right now. John asks “shouldn’t we focus on our way home?” but Arthur replies that there’s a story, one they don’t know if they’re a part of because of all the coincidences piling up. The cultists said Everything was predestined. “or so we’re meant to believe.” John says.

Their choices are their own, and there’s no certainty Frank Underhill didn’t escape, just failed to protect Emily. Finding and following Frank's footsteps is a smart way forward. 

-8:57 “Faroes Song”

They overview what happened to the girls. The King killed Amanda at Harpers Hill and they ponder if Anna is still alive. They ponder why Anna’s name was removed from the newspaper clippings. Anna lived in the mansion in the woods.

Arthur puts on the tie in Frank's suitcase, saying it makes him feel more professional and he hasn’t felt himself in a while.

They are to head to the blue sun as soon as it appears, the goal to find Frank. If he’s gone, find the path he took, in case he left clues.

Arthur wants to use the vanguard to search for Anna, but John is against this.

-11:27 “Reminiscent”

Amanda died because of them, because Arthur said her name in the dream when he was comatose. Arthur says he is trying to save them. “You’re trying to save you.” John replies.

Arthur is set that Amanda’s death isn’t his fault. John says whatever, ask your questions and risk another life, but Arthur gives in. Johns right.

-13:29 “Reminiscent”

They are finally leaving the house. The blue sun bathes everything azure and the sand hills are high. They seem almost violet in the blue hue. They find the cliffs, huge like a mountain base. Arthur ponders on the fact that the rules of the Dreamlands are much different.

-15:18 “Reminiscent”

John has seen civilizations rise and fall, he remembers bits and pieces, he can’t remove himself from his past. Such Devotion to their planet, it’s something John hasn’t experienced. But he’s learning. John says he does not miss where they were before, and he can’t tell the difference if a part of Arthur in him misses anything.

But

-16:06 “Faroes Song”

It is not the original version that plays, but a slower and deeper version.

John says he misses the piano, and Arthur laughs, thinking it’s funny considering John has never played. John asks, or rather, states that Arthur misses the piano, which he denies. Arthur played a lot. Composed songs.

John mentions Faroes song, and Arthur answered yes. The feeling of missing the piano carried over.

-24:14 “Reminiscent”

The creature in the boat has eggs. It also smells gross. That's it.

-28:03 “Reminiscent”

The ship is messy and was, quite literally, tossed. John assumes it ended up in the Dreamlands the same way as they got there. They check some lockers. One has a broken mirror, boots, a life preserver and a shaving kit. The next has a black rain jacket, hat, a box of hooks and a flask. It has alcohol. They take the shaving kit, flask and hooks.

-30:42 “Reminiscent”

Arthur ponders what happened on the ship, besides arriving in the dreamlands. There’s no bodies anywhere. The bow has maps and charts in a language that might be Danish. 

-31:55 “Faroes Song”

A pitched up, slower version plays.

They are in the captain's quarters, John says someone has been here, used for a fair amount of time, but John doesn’t think it’s Frank. There are drawings of what seems to be maps on the wall, as if the person was charting the desert. John recognizes the canyon they crossed, in the west. The cliffs are “crossed out.”

The music ramps up into the original.

These maps clearly weren’t for other people to see. They’ve also mapped out distance, likely in feet. To the south something is indicated, a crude drawing of a flower bulb, 1600 feet away. Beyond the cliffs is a drawn pillar and also skulls.

-34:10 “Reminiscent”

Arthur ponders what happened to this person, wondering if he found a way past the cliffs. The room has a number of “hair like fibers” and there’s no food. It looks like things were taken, packed up likely. They find a jug of water and clean off their eye. Unlike Arthur and Frank, this person lived here and tried to survive.

-35:30 “Faroes Song”

It’s deep, not the original version. 

They think of the idea that Frank may have also come upon this ship. It looks like it’s been here longer than Frank's apartment. The flower bulb must be important, considering it was mapped out. At 36:02 the piano becomes lighter. They decide to check out the flower bulb.

-37:35 “Reminiscent”

It’s only a few seconds if notes. Messy and almost seeming unfinished. John describes the smoldering creature they killed.

-38:55 “Faroes Song”

The deep version of Faroes song plays as John talks about the King. He thinks the King must track by physical means. While he is basically god, John, a piece of his soul, is preventing him from being whole. They don’t know the extent of what the King can and can’t do, but nevertheless the last thing they want is for he and John to be reunited.

Arthur asks about a contingency plan in case the King finds them, to prevent him from becoming whole again. Arthur asks if he “ends it.” Dies. But John doesn’t know what that will do, perhaps just give him control.

40:00 the music seems to change, still similar in tone but does not seem to be Faroes song.

John describes it as two souls competing for one body. If Arthur were to lose the whole body, John may get it instead. Arthur argues that if there was nothing to take over, he couldn’t, and suggests a bullet through the brain. If he comes for them and they can’t stop him, Arthur is dead either way, and reunion may end in countless death and destruction, so he may as well leave no chance.

[sunniebelle]

I posted 297 times in 2022

10 posts created (3%)

287 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@gingerteaonthetardis

@deardiary17

@lastbluetardis

@doctorroseprompts

@mistressvera

I tagged 296 of my posts in 2022

#i think queue need a doctor - 287 posts

#doctor who - 242 posts

#ninth doctor - 152 posts

#rose tyler - 129 posts

#nine x rose - 122 posts

#regenerate nine - 77 posts

#happy 9/9 day - 76 posts

#ninth doctor appreciation day - 56 posts

#christopher eccleston - 45 posts

#ten x rose - 30 posts

Longest Tag: 120 characters

#but what he didn't know was her regeneration was delayed and she came to him later that night looking slightly different

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

A beautifully done Ten x Rose music video!!

9 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

#4

Just a heads up that tomorrow (September 9) I'll be posting a lot of ninth Doctor/Christopher Eccleston posts for Ninth Doctor Appreciation Day! I'll be using the tags "regenerate nine", "ninth doctor appreciation day" and "happy 9/9 day" if you want to filter them.

13 notes - Posted September 8, 2022

#3

Haywire- Chapter 2

The Doctor and Rose wander the fairground in search of a meal.

Nine x Rose, Captain Jack Harkness

AO3- Chapter 1, Chapter 2

TSP- Chapter 1, Chapter 2

In her periphery, Rose could see Jack being his usual charming self, smiling invitingly at anyone who caught his eye. When she smiled up at the Doctor, he seemed to be ignoring their flirtatious companion. He was too busy educating her about the history of Phoenix and the surrounding communities, the food and some of the game stalls they passed. She let his words flow over her for the most part, letting it all just soak into her as they walked along.

One thing Rose noticed as she, the Doctor, and Jack went to find something to eat, is that the festival grounds were quite clean. The times she had been to a festival or carnival on Earth, trash from irresponsible and lazy humans was everywhere; however here on Phoenix, the isles were clean and the people wandering around were pointedly holding onto their trash until they found a receptacle.

Rose had only been to a fair ground a couple times. The first time was when she and her mate Shareen had won tickets from a lottery. The other time she had gone with Mickey; she'd coerced him with the vintage car they apparently had on display near the grounds. She went to look around the festival, while he ogled the car to his heart’s content.

This time was completely different, not only because she was on another planet, but because the Doctor was with her, holding her hand, lecturing her in his rather sexy Northern brogue about the history of the autumn festival and how certain games, rides and events were established.

Rose had long since overcome her awkwardness at seeing so many aliens and differences in culture; instead seeing the beauty and wonder in every new landscape she came across, or learning how different cultures reminded her of something from her home planet.

It was an incredible feeling, bubbling up inside her and she turned to face the wonderful man that was making it possible for her to experience another fantastic adventure. Rose couldn’t directly pinpoint the moment she knew she was in love with the Doctor, but regardless of when or how it happened, she felt her deep love for him swell inside her until it burst forth in a joyful laugh. She relished the tender smile he sent her way. His icy-blue eyes—so often intense, calculating and able to cut an enemy to the quick with a single glare— were now soft and twinkling merrily at her, obviously feeling chuffed that he could make her happy.

The paths were not too crowded, but enough so that the Doctor kept her close to his side, not allowing passers-by to split them apart; and she certainly wasn’t going to complain about being so close to him or how his hand wrapped protectively around hers.

Rose’s stomach chose that moment to make its empty state known, but even as she searched more intentionally for something to eat, she couldn’t help but let her attention be drawn to all the sights and sounds around her. This was what she loved and why she kept traveling with the Doctor; seeing things no one in her world could scarcely imagine, now right before her eyes!

One particular smell suddenly captured her attention and she turned to find a quaint stall that had many different types of baked goods on display. Still holding the Doctor’s hand, they made their way over to the stall, and Rose’s mouth began to water at the delicious smells wafting about her. She looked up at the Doctor, as he was glancing over the selections. He smiled at her, giving her a nod. She couldn’t help but beam at him, knowing he was telling her the food was safe for her to eat.

“Hello there, dearie. What can I tempt you with on this fine day?” asked the proprietor, a pleasant, grandfatherly gentleman with a twinkling eye and wide smile. He reminded her of her own grandfather, Granddad Prentice; though she was too young to have memories of him, other than the stories her mum told and the pictures in the photo album. This man had silver hair and a lavender tint to his skin; a rather eye-catching look. With his cheerful and buoyant demeanor, he endeared himself to her at once.

“Hi! I’m Rose, and this is the Doctor,” she smiled, up at the Doctor, who seemed to be looking at something behind them with an exasperated roll of his eyes. “And this is Ja—.”

She turned to where Jack had been mere moments before, now seeing him introducing himself to a couple, who were seemingly in a familiar state of dazed interest.

“Well, looks like your friend has other things on his mind than food,” the man chuckled, extending his hand to Rose.

“I am Jurrop, owner of this fine bakery. A pleasure to meet you and your husband. May I tempt you with one of my baked goods, all fresh baked today. I have be’rn batons, trelan aquanauts, keuts meat pies.”

Jurrop gestured to each item he named off, some looking similar to earth foods, like various pies and fruit dishes, and other items that looked so alien she couldn’t even begin to guess what they were or might taste like. But she knew from experience not to let the look of something put her off trying it. One might be pleasantly surprised, as she often was.

“Oh, it all looks so good. I don’t know what to choose.”

She deliberately chose to gloss over the man’s presumption that she and the Doctor were married, cutting off the Doctor’s likely ready rebuttal, seeing his mouth close and his head turn to look at her quizzically. She was tired of correcting people and receiving strange looks when they refuted such claims. Though she couldn’t help the thrill she got whenever she entertained the idea of being the Doctor’s wife, impossible as it was.

“What would you suggest Jurrop?” She asked the proprietor.

“I’m pleased you asked, my dear. This,” he said, pointing to a small danish-looking item with a light brown center and white something-or-other drizzled on top, “is a ke'etti torte, a recipe handed down through my family for five generations; a delight to the taste buds, for sure, if I may be so bold to say so.”

“Mm, looks very good. What do you say, Doctor?” She looked up at him, teasing him with a tongue-touched smile. “Want to try a ki—, uh, ket—… one of those with me?”

“Looks as good as anything else I suppose,” he shrugged, studying the item in question.

Rose chanced another glance at him, but he had his guard up, and though she could swear she had seen a tiny smile on his lips a minute ago, it wasn’t there now. She gave an internal sigh, wishing the Doctor wasn’t so difficult to read.

“We’ll take two of those, please, Jurrop. Oh, do you have tea? Could do with a cuppa right about now.”

“Well, I do have this Nelertoni. A smooth, spice flavored brew that is popular with many travelers. I have it quite often myself.” The older man gestured to a box of tea bags, next to a steaming teapot which sat under something resembling a hot plate.

She felt the Doctor lean closer to her and whisper in her ear, “That’ll taste a bit like an apple-cinnamon latte. Might taste good with that treat.”

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15 notes - Posted September 9, 2022

#2

Watch "The Ninth Doctor • Fireflies" on YouTube

So many happy feels! Love this!

16 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Ninth Doctor Fics

Hello! I've never done this, posted a list of my own fics, but I've seen several other writers do it and thought 9/9 Day would be a good day to follow suit. Enjoy!

Haywire - Plans of a relaxing fun day at an autumn Festival go haywire when Rose steps in to save a young girl. Things go from bad to desperate when the Doctor and Jack have to race against time in order to save a very wet and cold Rose in the midst of a freak blizzard, while being cut off from the TARDIS. Will this be the thing that finally tears them apart, or will the Doctor put aside his fears and past in order to look to a bright future with Rose? (new chapter up today!)

An Unexpected Misadventure - The Doctor and Rose are forcibly separated by a tribe of bird-men, tasked with finding one another in the midst of a muddy dangerous swamp.

Timely Accidents - A mistake leads to detrimental consequences. Can John save the day, and how will he react to an impetuous choice by Rose?

A Smile To Light Up The Dark - A new face at the local Coffee shop has a profound effect on Doctor John Smith's mood. Will this be the start of something wonderful, or will his stubbornness be an impassable roadblock?

Choices - After a harrowing fight for planet Earth, the Doctor can’t help but wonder if this will be their last adventure together.

Quickly Sinking Rose - With the death of her father still heavily on her mind, the Doctor takes Rose on a new adventure to a rainforest planet. Unfortunately, his jeopardy- friendly companion gets in over her head when she gets separated from the Doctor and a massive predator decides that Rose is on the menu. Will the Doctor reach her in time? (Teen)

Dash To Freedom - Rose Tyler manages to escape the hellish place she’s been living and finds help in an unlikely place. (Teen)

A Hand To Hold - There are many things that are needed when traveling through the universe, some being of more importance than others. The TARDIS thinks that, where the Doctor is concerned, there is one that is more important than them all. (This was the first fanfic I ever wrote for DW, and of Nine.)

And so far, that is all my Ninth Doctor fics! I hope you enjoy!

30 notes - Posted September 9, 2022

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