#would explain why he's an Operations Master or whatever

[recusant-s-sigil]

Nept like Neptune, inept, or... Nepotism?

[imagineanime2022]

Water Hashira's Protector

Giyu Tomiyoka X Reader

Word Count: 767

Requested: Anon

Request: Tomioka Giyuu from demon slayer x s/o reader who's serious and chill like him but he's always hugging on to Giyuu, wrapping an arm around his waist, and defending him from the other Hashira?

You had been friends with Giyu since you were young, he’d always been the quiet type and it became apparent to you that he wasn’t as socially smart as you'd first think so you made it your job to look after him when he needed it. You trained with him and passed the exam the same as him, at the time the position of Hashira was offered to both of you under the guise that you would both fight for it but you gave to him instead, you had never really wanted the position in the first place. When it came down to it you could have been whatever you wanted, you just decided to follow Giyu into the life of a demon slayer, well more aptly you decided to follow Giyu.

You were a little more aggressive than Giyu where he’s described as the gentle flow of a river, you're probably the turbulent undercurrent, they are lured in by Giyu and taken out by you. That’s not to say that Giyu isn’t good at what he does because he is but that was only when it came to demons, when humans were the ones that insulted or attacked him he became a little more reserved.

The Hashira were the worst for this, they all seemed to gang up on him or just talk behind his back so that was when you turned your anger on them, you could hold your own against them in a fight and they all seemed to forget that but you never did.

It was yet another meeting that the master had allowed you to attend due to the unique way that you and Giyu operated, the meeting itself went by without any issues but it was what happened after that caused issue, as they gathered together in a group while Giyu stood off to the otherside. “Hey Giyu!” Sanemi called over, you glanced at him out of the side of your eye but didn’t move from your place draped over him, your arm wrapped around his waist while your chin rested on your shoulder. “Yes?” He asked. “What’s with the weird fashion sense?” He asked, you tensed immediately, as your head snapped towards him. “Mind your own business.” You ordered as you looked at him. “How dare you-!?” “Don’t forget that I have the same chance of ending you as you do ending me.” You reminded him. “You think?” He asked drawing his sword. “Are you seriously violating the master's rules in his own home?” You asked detaching yourself from Giyu to step in front of him instead. “(Y/N) stop.” Giyu ordered tugging at your sleeve. “I’ll stop when he puts the sword away.” You promised. “Sanemi, is this necessary?” Shinbu asked. “These two need to be taught a lesson!” He pointed the sword inches from your face, you lifted your hand knocking the sword away from your face. “You really need a sword to do that?” You asked, he grit his teeth and stepped closer finally sheathing the sword. “Just wait until there’s no one around to protect you.” He said. “Until next time Wind Hashira.” You bowed before turning away from him.

Later that evening you were sitting with Giyu, you were eating “why do you do that?” He asked suddenly. “What?” You asked looking at your food and then touching your face to see if there was something on your face. “Fight everyone.” He added and your eyes widened in realisation as you looked at him and shrugged. “I want to protect you, you're my boyfriend after all, I’m not just going to stand there and listen to them question you about something that is close to your heart, you shouldn’t have to tell them if you don’t want to.” You explained. “What if I did?” He asked. “Did you?” You asked. “I…” “You want to tell them because you think that they will like you better but that’s not the case, I promise you if you told that story it would not change anything, just promise me if you decide to tell them about that or anything else you do it because you trust them rather than you want them to like you.” You pleaded. “I don’t need them to like me when I have you.” He said and you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Good then eat up I’m sure they’ll send us out soon.” You reminded him and he nodded going back to his food as you looked at the sky waiting for the crows to call you to action.

Request Here!!

[cetaitlaverite]

Anything to Anywhere

Masters of the Air - Bucky Egan x OC

masterlist is here <3

05. Made An Impression

The sun had finally come out, and it was bright and warm and made everyone feel just a bit sluggish. There were no bombing raids going out today and, it seemed, not much work for the ATA pilots, either. John had only been walking around base for twenty minutes before he found Stella.

There were many people gathered in the grass outside of the mess hall, making the most of the sunshine - groups of wireless operators, American Red Cross girls, various American aircrews, even some of the air exec and the ops girls who worked with them - but Stella was easy to pick out. John chuckled to himself as he took in her form, sound asleep and curled up in a ball on a blanket with the two other pilots she was always with - Jessop and Alice, if he recalled correctly - beside her.

Her dark hair was splayed out around her and Alice was picking daisies out of the ground and weaving their stems into it. Jessop was watching idly, pulling out grass by the handful and squinting through the sunlight.

Removing his aviators from one of his pockets and putting them on, John picked his way over to the group, greeting anyone who greeted him as he passed. When he came to stand at the edge of Stella’s blanket his shadow cast her in darkness.

In her sleep, Stella groaned and curled tighter into herself, but she settled when Alice gestured for John to sit down with them and the sun shone on her once more.

“She’s out for the count,” Alice informed him redundantly as he stretched his legs out in the grass and planted his hands behind him on the blanket. “Anything we can help you with, Major?”

“I’m just bringing a peace offering,” he informed her with a smile. “She likely to wake up anytime soon?”

“She’s been asleep for around twenty minutes,” Jessop informed him. “More than enough time for a nap if you ask me.” Before anyone could object, he gave Stella an almighty shove, rolling her from her side to her back and cackling when she started to complain.

Stella curled both of her hands into fists and pressed them into her eyes as she lay back in the sun, grumbling all the while about being woken up. “I’m so sleepy,” she complained, then yawned as though to prove her point. “Why would you wake me like that?”

“Bucky’s here to see you,” Alice offered.

Stella scoffed. “Why?”

“Wanted to apologise for the other night,” John explained. He was being sincere but for some reason was powerless in his fight against the grin on his face as he watched her squirm and complain in the grass. “Can we talk?”

Stella lay motionless for a moment, considering this request. She had no real desire to speak to him. If he thought time would make her less angry he was wrong; three days had passed and her blood still boiled every time she thought about how he’d behaved. Alice had tried to reason with her that she hadn’t been very nice either - in fact, Alice thought she’d been rather nasty - but Stella was still too angry to admit as much. As far as she was concerned, whatever friendship she’d thought she’d had with Major Egan had been fabricated, a fantasy he had created for her so he could get her into bed, and he’d shown her exactly what he really thought of her when he hadn’t been able to contain himself the other night.

“I’ve got nothing nice to say to you,” she replied eventually. She kept her eyes closed and took to sunbathing, letting the warmth of the sun relax her stiff muscles.

“I didn’t ask you to say something nice,” John replied evenly, watching her closely. “I asked if we could talk.”

“We are talking.”

“Fin,” Alice cut in. “Don’t be a child.”

Stella frowned but she did sit up. She eyed John momentarily, suspicion written all across her face, before pushing herself to her feet with a huff and a roll of her eyes. “The whole world’s pissing me off today,” she muttered under her breath as she traipsed through the grass. She didn’t glance back but she knew John was following her, so she led him around the back of the mess hall so they could chat with some approximation of privacy.

When they came face to face, the two of them watched each other in silence. Stella raised her eyebrows at him, crossing her arms over her chest and setting her lips in a frown, while John leaned against the wall to the mess hall, considering her with a thoughtful expression.

“I’m sorry for the other night,” he began at length.

Stella stared back at him blankly. “What are you sorry for?”

“For what I said. For promising you I wouldn’t cause trouble and then causing trouble.”

Stella hummed her acceptance of this but said nothing.

John watched her patiently, awaiting a reply, and when it became clear she had no intentions of giving him one he sighed and continued, “Look, I think we both said stuff we didn’t mean -”

“I meant what I said,” Stella cut him off. “And I think you meant it too.”

Finally, John’s resolve broke. He stood up straight and stared at her hard. “You know, Fin, I coulda made much more of a scene about all this after you tried to embarrass me like that in front of all my guys. You called me a pain in your ass and a lost puppy, said I follow you around because I’m hoping to get into your pants. That’s a real sweet fucking thing to say at all, Fin, especially in front of my men.”

“But was I wrong?” Stella snarled in reply. “Everyone else sees it, I was just the last to realise. Do you know how many people told me you were only looking to get me into bed? And I denied it every time because I thought you actually just wanted to be friends. But it makes so much more sense that they were right and I’m the idiot who believed you actually just liked me as a person.”

John scoffed. “Where’s this coming from, huh? Not one thing I said the other night was about me wanting to get into your pants.”

“But if you hate British pilots and our planes and our country so much then you can’t actually like me as a person, can you?” Stella fired back.

John stared at her, eyebrows raised, jaw agape, before he started to laugh in disbelief. “Do you not hear how insane you sound?”

“No!” Stella exclaimed. “I don’t! I haven’t said a single thing which is unreasonable!”

“You’re impossible to reason with!” John shouted back at her. “I don’t know why I even bothered trying to apologise!”

“Neither do I!” Stella fired back. “Because you’re clearly not actually sorry!”

It was all John could do to laugh. He couldn’t believe he’d come over here actually thinking they’d find common ground, that he’d apologise and she’d apologise in return and they’d be friends again. Somewhere along the line it seemed they’d both accidentally deceived each other about who they really were; they couldn’t get along, not really, could never be real friends. They were so incompatible it was unbelievable.

“You know what your problem is, Finley?” he said at last, shaking his head, still laughing quietly in disbelief.

“What?” Stella demanded. “Pray tell, Major, because you know everything. What is my problem?”

“Your problem,” John ground out, “is you think people care about you a lot more than they actually do. You think I came up with this master plan so you’d sleep with me, that I plotted and started putting in leg work to play some sort of long game, when the truth is no one’s thinking about you that much. No one gives that much of a shit. I wanted us to be friends, it didn’t work out, that’s life, but don’t make out that I’m obsessed with you ‘cause I promise you I’m not.”

Stella’s heart was pounding. Her throat was tight. “Then why,” she said lowly, staring him down, “are you here?”

They stared at each other in silence for one beat, two, before John scoffed and stepped away. “I’ll see you later, Finley.”

“Not if I have it my way.”

He laughed. “You’re a child.”

“And you’re a bastard.”

“You have a nice day, Finley.”

“As soon as you leave I will.”

He turned and left and Stella watched him until he disappeared around the corner. She tried to take deep breaths to calm the furious beating of her heart, tried to funnel her anger into the tight fists at her sides, but it did little to help. By the time she returned to Alice and Jessop she still had smoke coming out of her ears, and after that the two of them knew better than to suggest Stella go anywhere near Major Egan.

Stella didn’t have to lay eyes on him again for days. She did her best to avoid him and it seemed he was doing his best to avoid her, too. But she heard through the grapevine that he had gotten himself demoted from air exec so that he could fly again and as such it came as little surprise to her when she left the female ATA changing room hut one day, ready to go out on her first ferrying chit of the day, and came face to face with John Egan as he led his men out of the USAAF kit hut and towards their waiting troop transfer vehicles.

“Finley,” he greeted her coolly, stepping aside to allow her to pass in front of him and his men.

“Egan,” she replied, sparing him a nod before she stepped in front of him.

As she headed for her own waiting jeep another voice interrupted her. “Ay! First Officer Finley!”

Stella couldn’t quite hold back her smile as she turned to face Lieutenant Curt Biddick, jogging from the back of the line of American airmen to greet her.

“How you been, Fin?” he asked with that jolly grin of his.

Stella laughed quietly beneath her breath. “I’ve been good. Busy. What about you, Curt?”

“About to be busy,” he acknowledged, inclining his head in the direction of the line of trucks waiting to ferry them to the airfield, as though she hadn’t noticed them. “How come I ain’t seen you down the pub since that night last week?”

Stella shrugged. “I’m not a huge fan of the pub.”

“Come to the officers’ club, then,” he replied easily. “After we get back today we’re having a party in there, me and the guys. You gotta come. I wanna hear more about your British planes.”

With a wry grin, Stella turned to glance at where Major Egan was eyeing the two of them from over by the trucks. When she turned back to Curt she inclined her head in his direction. “I think you’d better ask your CO before you go inviting me to your parties.”

Curt brushed this sentiment aside immediately. “Nah, you’re with me. He’s fine. So you’ll come?”

With a quiet laugh, Stella shrugged. “Why not? I’ll come.” It would certainly annoy Major Egan if she was there. Besides, she worked here just like he did; she had the right to be there if she wanted to be.

Curt cheered and clapped his hands together. “Great! I’ll swing by your hut to pick you up at eight. Where is your hut, exactly?”

Laughing, Stella took a few steps back in the direction of her waiting jeep. “I’ll see you there, Curt.”

With his hands raised in mock surrender, Curt took the hint and began walking slowly backwards towards the truck waiting for him. “Alright. But the offer still stands if you want it, I’m just saying.”

Rolling her eyes jovially, Stella shook her head. “I’ll see you there!”

“Alright!” he called after her as she turned and headed for her jeep. “I’ll see ya!”

Laughing to herself, Stella offered a wave over her shoulder before climbing into the jeep, thanking the driver for waiting before he sped off towards the airfield.

Curt never made it back to Thorpe Abbotts that evening. His plane had crash landed somewhere in Scotland. No one had heard from him just yet but Stella had heard from the wireless operators that the other returning crews had seen him ease his fort into a relatively safe landing. The general consensus was optimistic. Stella had her fingers crossed for him.

She went to the officers’ club anyway, even without her escort. Alice and Jessop were both going and, besides, she had every right to be there. She had been here first. So, with her chin held defiantly, she linked elbows with Alice and the two of them entered the club, beelining for the bar and discussing whether they wanted to drink beer or something stronger.

As fate had it, Egan was already making a spectacle of himself before they’d been there five minutes. The band the 100th had formed of airmen who could play instruments had been playing a lovely instrumental rendition of Irving Berlin’s ‘Blue Skies’ when Egan, apparently dissatisfied with the lack of attention being afforded him, had seized the microphone and started crooning into it, disrupting all of the dancers on the dance floor.

Stella watched him with an expression of disgust. “I can’t believe I ever even wanted to be friends with him.”

Beside her, Alice was laughing to herself. “Oh, come on, Fin. He’s a laugh, you have to admit it.”

“I don’t have to admit anything,” Stella grumbled in protest. “He’s an idiot.”

With a roll of her eyes, Alice turned back to the bar and flagged down the barman. “Atley!” she insisted as he glanced over. “Two beers and two shots of your hardest liquor!”

In spite of the queue of waiting patrons, Atley nodded and set about his task right away. Stella smirked. Secretly, she thought Atley had a bit of a sweet spot for Alice but she wasn’t about to expose him like that, especially since she didn’t have any real evidence, just suspicions.

“Fancy a dance, Fin?” Jessop asked as he sidled up beside them out of nowhere. He had a half-drunk beer in one hand and his other outstretched towards her.

Stella looked between his eyes and his hand with a laugh, then shrugged. “Let me get my drinks first and I’ll consider it.”

“Alright,” Jessop agreed.

Atley placed two shots of vodka and two pints of beer on the bar before Stella and Alice, then informed them that the shots were on the house. So, with matching grins, they tipped the shots back then chased them with the beer, then turned back to face the room while Alice sighed contemplatively. “I’m still looking for my non-committal American,” she informed Stella and Jessop as she scanned the room. “Any suggestions?”

“Hardly know any of them,” Jessop replied dismissively.

Stella shrugged. “He’s not here tonight but Curt’s nice.”

Alice quirked an eyebrow at her sidelong. “The guy who invited you here?”

“Yes.”

“Right,” Alice agreed sarcastically. “I’m going to try my luck with a man who’s already decided he wants you.”

Stella scoffed, rolling her eyes at her. “It’s not like that. I don’t know what your obsession is with thinking every man fancies me. Curt and I met the other night and got along, is all.”

Alice only laughed. “One random American man that you barely know did not invite you to this little soirée because he wants to be friends, Fin.”

Stella shook her head. “Think what you like, Alice, but it’s really not that serious.”

“What about that one?” Jessop asked out of nowhere. He inclined his head towards an American airman currently in conversation with two of the American Red Cross girls, though it was clear even from the other side of the room that he was having no luck with them. “He seems keen.”

“Or his friends, maybe?” Stella added. She gestured to two men who were watching the man with a mixture of grins and grimaces. “I’d imagine they’re all in the same boat.”

Alice considered these two men thoughtfully. “The blond,” she decided at last. “I like the blond one.”

Stella and Jessop watched with matching amused grins as Alice approached and flirted and ended up being led to the dance floor by her blond American, who seemed nothing short of delighted by her attention, shooting a smirk back at his friends over his shoulder as he laid a hand on Alice’s back.

Minutes later, after polishing off their drinks, Stella and Jessop joined them, falling into a rhythm quickly while they danced, their coordination practised after so many years of friendship. The song the band was playing now was fast-paced and joyful and, mercifully, Egan was sharing the club’s telephone with Buck over by the bar so it wasn’t likely to be hijacked. Stella held on tight to Jessop as he spun her around, laughing and convincing him to turn under her arm, too.

They danced through song after song, until an American airman made his way through the centre of the room, crowing, “Come on, everybody. Bike race in the mess hall! Who’s in?”

The crowd of people compressed into the officers’ club fled as one in a mass exodus towards the mess hall. Alice found Stella and Jessop in the crowd, linking her elbow through Stella’s to make sure they weren’t separated, and in the mess hall they stuck together and clung to the wall, keeping out of the way of the racers and deciding who they thought looked lucky.

“My money’s on Howard,” Alice said, pointing him out in the lineup. Howard was, of course, the blond man she’d been dancing with.

Stella smiled at her sidelong. “He made an impression, then?”

Coyly, Alice shrugged. “Maybe.” When she caught his eye in the crowd she gave him a flirtatious wave which made Stella laugh, rolling her eyes as she turned back to the men vying for the best starting positions.

“I see money changing hands, I hope that’s going on me,” Egan said as he elbowed his way to the front of the lineup.

Stella’s smile soured.

“I got five on you,” one of the airmen standing nearby who wasn’t set to participate replied.

“That’s five quid down the drain,” Stella said to no one in particular.

Egan turned to look at her. When they locked eyes, Stella smirked and he scowled. He opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by the man who had elected himself as the referee. “Here’s the deal, boys,” he announced. “You got one lap to the officers’ mess, two laps to the enlisted men’s mess. When you hear the starter pistol, go.”

“Why don’t you get in there, Jessop?” Alice asked, leaning around Stella to address him.

Jessop laughed and shrugged.

Stella could see Egan quietly observing the conversation from where he was wrangling his bike into submission, but she didn’t look over at him as she said, “Bet you’d wipe the floor with these Yank bastards.”

Her voice was deliberately pitched loud enough for him to hear her but, again, he was prevented from replying when the referee called, “Hands on handlebars, boys!” and promptly pulled the trigger on the starter pistol.

All at once the men set off in a mess of limbs and wheels. The crowd cheered and hooted, the men cajoled each other as they fought to get to the front of the crowd, and Egan and Buck led them, heckling each other as they went.

The two of them collapsed on top of each other when they reached the end of the race, tumbling off their bikes in their haste, and their men were right behind them. Their speed and enthusiasm had them flying over the front of their handlebars, falling on top of each other in a pile on the ground.

Stella and Alice were laughing together at such a boyish show of masculinity, Alice taking the time to point Howard out in the crowd, before a siren Stella knew all too intimately rang out over the speakers. “All personnel, take shelter,” droned the monotone voice. “All personnel, take shelter.”

“Air raid,” Stella said to Alice and Jessop, though her words were redundant; they’d all endured many of these before.

The crowd was hurried as they made their way to the bomb shelters. Stella and Alice were quick to lose Jessop, their elbows straining against each other as the herd pulled them apart.

“All personnel, take shelter. All personnel, take shelter,” rang the siren.

The first bomb lit up the night sky and Stella couldn’t help her flinch. Her head whipped around to watch the flames engulf their nearest city, to watch as Norwich was forced on its hands and knees. She never had gotten used to the sound and likely never would.

But when she turned back to continue on her way, Stella found she’d lost Alice. She turned her head this way and that, helplessly called out her name but found her voice drowned in the din. All there was for her to do was to keep moving, to let the crowd take her where it pleased as the night sky lit up with fire over and over again.

[hesthermay]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 (𝐏𝐓 𝟔) — 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐏!

PAIRING: sergeant hunter x fem!oc reader

SUMMARY: a look into miri and hunter's past in the form of a filler episode <3

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

RATINGS + WARNINGS: general audiences, mature themes, fluff! use of she/her, female oc, jedi occanon typical violence or mentions of. found family trope. this chapter takes place during the clone wars.

NOTES: i have been so excited for this chapter! i love filler episodes, just silly or goofy or off course from the main objective, a little flashback, a way to expand on something without breaking thr main storyline; i just think they're so fun and useful. bring back filler episodes challenge: impossible. anyways here is our first filler ep in this story, i hope you like it and i hope it explains just a few more things :)

STAR WARS MASTERLIST THE GREAT FIGHT MASTERLIST

Truth be told, the kiss shared between Hunter and Miri in the hangar bay on Ord Mantell had not been their first one, but it had been arguably the most important. 

The first one, much milder than that one, had occurred during the Clone Wars, some time after Miri had been assigned their general. It had been one of those rare nights where she had let herself follow Hunter to his bunk, sliding in before him and pressing against the wall, letting his large frame shield her from the outside. They had spoken, in hushed whispers, of the day they had just finished and the close calls the mission had put them in. 

Not an unusual occurrence, but Miri had put herself in the line of fire for one of them and had gotten hurt. Something she did quite often, as reckless and selfless as ever, but this time it had worried Hunter more than it normally would have. He ran his fingers over the bacta patches on her arms before moving to the ones on her torso, covering the gashes the debris had cut into her skin, and thought about how close it had been to being much worse. “You really risked it today,” he stated, eyes flickering up to meet her gaze.

“It wasn’t that bad,” she countered, still maintaining the justification of her actions. “We didn’t know there would be that much heat by the control panel, and Tech needed cover. I did what I had to do,” she pushed, voice light despite the topic of their conversation. 

“Miri, you could have gotten sliced in two,” he shook his head, as best he could laying on his side. “There was a different way to cover Tech where you wouldn’t have been so exposed.” 

“Hunter, I know what I’m doing,” she sighed. “I’m a Master Jedi, and I’m your general; I could handle that and I did.” 

Her words hung in the air between them, the small bunk going quiet as he thought them over. She was right, as much as it sometimes felt like a slap in the face, that she was his general. Whatever they had, whatever they were doing crammed into his bunk in the late of night, it was not allowed. His feelings, the way he worried for her, cared for her, was not allowed. The kiss he wanted to press to her lips so badly, because she was his favorite secret, was not allowed. 

“I just,” he cut himself off, almost second guessing himself. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. We need you around here.” 

Clone Force 99 had been doing just fine without her, they most certainly did not need anyone, but Miri had joined them and added to the fine machinery of their squad. She fit, as if she was made to, and they operated as efficiently as ever. But really, deep down and hidden from the light of day, Hunter needed her. He needed her so badly he didn’t even know how to feel about it, and these thoughts had him leaning forward, subconsciously pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss. His mind caught up with his body when he felt her kiss him back, and he pulled himself away. Why he had done that, he did not know, and he could only hope the darkness hid the heat that gathered in his face. 

“Hunter,” she whispered after a few seconds of silence. He hummed in response, still not speaking. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Her promise, spoken quietly to the man and the universe, the Maker and the Force, was followed by another light kiss. 

-: ✧

When they had landed back on Coruscant, Miri knew she would not be seeing them for a few rotations as they were returning to Kamino. As she made her way down the steps, she fought off the grin that attempted to spread across her face. “Well, I’ll see you boys soon, alright?” She turned to face them once she was on the ground, looking up at them all huddled around the entrance of the ship. They were dropping her off, and when they got their next mission, she’d call them and they’d pick her up again; as they always did. “Stay outta trouble for me.” 

Wrecker laughed, knowing that was unlikely, before they bid their farewells, all unique in their own way. Hunter was the last to walk away, wanting to see her until the very end, and she smiled at him right before the ramp finally closed and she had no choice but to back up to give them room to take off. As soon as the Marauder was gone, she turned and dashed off to the Temple, knowing she needed to give the Council her mission report, but wanting to get it over with as soon as possible. 

And though Master Yoda and Mace Windu had drawn the meeting out a bit when her injuries were revealed, she made it out no more battered than before. Their usual reprimands and criticisms had been deflected, for she did not feel like letting them make her shoulders heavy today. The person she was searching for, however, was nowhere to be seen in the Temple, so her exit was made quickly and promptly. 

The Senator’s apartment was a short trip by speeder, and she hastily made her way up to the correct floor. She found a giddiness bubbling in her chest, as if she was a child once again, running to her friend to share something big. The guards outside of the Nabooian Senator’s apartment stopped her short, and her words came out rushed. “I need to speak with Anakin Skywalker,” she panted lightly. “It’s…Jedi business.” 

They stepped aside, letting her step forward and ring the buzzer, shuffling her feet as she waited. Once the doors slid open, Senator Amidala stood before her with a surprised smile. “Master Rocksled,” she greeted, stepping back to let the woman in. The doors slid shut behind her, and Miri attempted to reign herself in as she turned to the politician. 

“Sorry to disturb you, Senator, but I have to talk to Anakin.” She was serious, and Padme’s brows furrowed at what could possibly be so urgent. This was not common, although Miri was one of the only people who knew about herself and the Jedi Knight, she did well to keep it hidden from the public. 

But what was public knowledge was that Miri Rocksled and Anakin Skywalker were best friends. Had been ever since the boy had joined the Order, and Padme knew that if she insisted she needed to speak with him, it was important. “Anakin,” she called, and the man emerged from around the corner but a moment later. 

“Miri?” He questioned when his eyes landed on her. She stepped forward, a pep in her step as she ventured into the apartment. 

“Hunter kissed me.” She stated, hitting him right with it as she could not afford to beat around the bush. This information had been stewing ever since it happened, the need to share it with her friend almost causing her to explode. 

Anakin didn’t respond, though his jaw dropped and he stared at her with his mouth open comically wide. “Twice,” she added, causing him to let out a short breath that resembled a laugh. 

“Oh my Gods, Miri,” he grinned, stepping closer as well as his voice lowered, finding the information just as juicy as she had hoped. He knew this was going to happen, no matter how much the woman had denied it would. 

“Wait,” Padme stepped forward, eyes wide at the information she had overheard. “Hunter, as in your Sergeant, Hunter?” 

Miri whipped back around to look at Anakin, who scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, it kind of slipped out,” he apologized, guilt written all over his face as he grinned slightly. 

She couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Such a gossip,” she chastised before turning back to Padme. “Yes, that Hunter.”

“Oh, wow,” Padme gasped. “That’s good, right? I mean,” she grinned, “you do feel quite strongly about him, don’t you, Miri?” There was a tease in her voice that told her Anakin had rubbed off on her, and it made her scoff jokingly. 

“What am I going to do with you two?” She shook her head, and the couple laughed as Padme made her way closer to them. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but this was nicer than she had thought. They never got to spend time with other people as they really were, but Miri was a trusted friend and she did not need to hide from her. It was freeing, it was nice, and it was welcomed. 

“The real question is,” Anakin held a finger up, pointing at her. “What are you going to do about Hunter?”

all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my contents as your own.

[princess-of-thebes-1995]

1:00 is my favorite part of this video. Quaritch: "Oh, shit..." he saw his pussy boss walking and yelling towards him. Not this shit again.

I love this scene and I kind of rushed it the first time I published it. This scene is sooo funny. I rewatched it many times. Haha.

The Colonel was more pissed and mean than usual. Why? Trudy helped Jake, Norm, and Grace escape.

 You and Max were told to stay 

The Colonel shot at them but he was humiliated that he couldn't stop them and Selfridge yelled at him.

So… he would take his anger on you. He was rougher in having sex with you. He kissed you so hard that you would almost faint for air. He would painfully fuck you hard. Like a rag doll.

And grope your ass and breasts hard. You didn't call yourself his girlfriend or whatever. You hate him. But for the sake of the Navi. You spreaded your virgin legs for him. 

 So you called yourself his concubine.

Today, you were tending wounded soldiers and then you heard him.

Not Quaritch but the spoiled baby Selfridge yelling. 

"You're fired!"

The poor coal miner named Logan stared. 

You wondered why he was in a bad mood. 

You went back to work and then it happened…

Your "Master" or "Daddy" heard the commotion as he was ordering his men in the incoming battle against the Navi.

Max was planning a combat rebellion within the base. 

You were sneaking guns and weapons in a closet so your science friends can find them later.

You were secretly talking to Trudy.

….

While you were busy, Quaritch heard the bitchy yells of that pussy Selfridge. Fuck.

Selfridge opened his hands wide out. "This thing is completely out of control…"

Quaritch rolled his eyes. "Oh, shit."

"Listen to me!" Selfridge raised his voice causing heads to turn to them and it made the Colonel more angry and embarrassed at being scolded by his own boss in public. "I am not authorizing you to mine local workers into a freakin' Malaysia.!"

The Colonel turned his back and inspected a bomber weapon. He gave him an order. Then he turned to Selfridge. He explained how he is in command since it is code Red. 

Selfridge got into the Colonel's face. "You think you can operate this palace coup shit on me!" He pointed his finger to Quaritch's face. "I can have your ass with one phone call!"

That does it. 

Quaritch shut his boss up by grabbing hold of his ugly face. His teeth gnarled with hate as he seethed. "You're a long way from earth."

Parker was for once quiet instead of barking. The Colonel let go of his face and then placed both hands on his weak shoulders mockingly. 

Lyle and other marine soldiers surrounded Selfridge. 

"Unass this man from the area. And get that compound loaded!" Quaritch left.

Lyle shook his head. He tried to make Parker move faster. 

"Don't touch me, you are so fired!"

…

As for you, you were working diligently but when Selfridge raised his voice, almost all stopped working to stare.

You flinched in fear when you saw your Daddy choke the boss's face.

Good Lord.

You always obeyed your master and so far never got into trouble. Now, you were more scared of him. What will he do if he finds out your secret? He was suspicious of you since Grace is your best friend and you loved Navis. 

You tried to work again but you heard his authoritative voice. "Name. Come with me."

Then he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from your patient without giving you time to think. 

He was walking too fast. 

"Colonel, can you please slow down?"

He said nothing but tightened his hold on you. It almost hurt.

Then you fell on your knees and one sandal fell.

The Colonel looked down at you and frowned. He dragged you up to your feet and didn't care to say a word. As if nothing happened.

Were you in trouble?

[burnwater13]

Grogu looking out of the frosted over canopy of the Razor Crest just before Din Djarin (out of frame) leaves the icy planet Maldo Kreis. Image from The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 2, The Passenger. Calendar from DataWorks.

Grogu was watching his dad repair the ship. Well, not really repair the ship. It was too damaged for full repairs or even good repairs. Apparently the best he could do was seal them into the bridge and cross their fingers and hope they would reach Trask. Eventually. They hoped. 

He felt kind of bad about what happened. He didn’t mean for the giant spiders to attack the Razor Crest. He was just bored and hungry and little bit annoyed with his dad. That sort of thing was bound to happen under those circumstances. At least that had been his experience. 

You do something innocuous, get caught, explain why you did it and how it was no big deal, and then, oops, something dramatic happens and there is nothing you can do but hang on tight and ask the Force to save your butt just one more time. At least that’s how Ian used to describe it when they compared notes after each unplanned adventure they went on. 

Like that time they went on the field trip to the Galactic Senate building. Nothing special was happening that day according to the protocol droid who escorted them through the building. According to their schedule the only thing the Senators would be debating and voting on was the renaming of several Republic buildings and docking facilities. 

Grogu had no idea why buildings needed names. Ian had been quick to respond that not everyone knew their unique ident codes. Grogu hadn’t even known that they had unique ident codes or why that would be useful. 

“Of course they need an ident code! How could the database of information on them be properly maintained if they didn’t have a unique identifier? It would be a mess!”

Grogu had been surprised that Ian was so knowledgeable and so passionate something as dull as ident codes for buildings and docking facilities.

“Listen, kid, if they didn’t have unique ident codes, you’d never know what sort of stuff they had crammed in them. When you have access to the Republic ‘database of resources and locations of operations’ you’re able to determine the most appropriate site to visit to fulfill whatever needs you have at the time. It’s all about logistics, kid. And, as you know, logistics are the key to every successful heist… uh… project.”

What the heck? When did Ian become a fan of logistics? He was talking like a cross between a pirate and a smuggler. That just struck Grogu as odd, much like Ian calling him ‘kid’. As far as he could tell, they were pretty close to being the same age. 

“Listen, I know you know all about being a Jedi, Kid… uh, Grogu. But I know other things because it’s been important for me to know other things. Things like logistics and warehouse management. Okay?”

Grogu had simply nodded. He thought they should just drop the subject and focus on the tour. Ian seemed to agree and they went with the other younglings and their protocol droid guide and entered the Senate chamber to listen to the debate and votes. Master Yoda had thought it was important for the younglings to witness and understand how the galactic government worked for some reason. 

The room was amazing and the strangest space that Grogu had ever been in, which he hadn’t thought was possible given how unique the Jedi Temple was. Ian, of course, zipped right over to the command console and studied it in silence while the protocol droid was advising them that the debates about naming facilities was simple in essence but could be complicated by various political factions within the Senate. The droid advised them all to be quiet and just listen to the debate.

That was a fine thing for the droid to say, but Grogu couldn’t see or hear anything. First he didn’t even understand why the seating disk had a central console. All it did was block his view and make it hard for him to understand what the heck was going on. He made his way over to Ian and asked him to help.

“Sure, buddy. Just be a minute. I have to wait for the opportune moment.”

Ian went back to studying the console, while Grogu hopped up on it and sat on the leading edge. From there he could at least hear what was going on, even if he still couldn’t really see the people because the distances were so great.

“The chancellor will recognize the Senator from Dathomir.”

“Thank you, your Eminence. It is with deep reverence and sincere appreciation of the importance of recognizing important people from Dathomirian history, that I propose that Revan the Defender be honored by renaming the Republic Space Station in orbit around Dathomir as the Revan the Dark Lord of the Sith Space Station and Immigrant Processing Center.”

Who? What? Why? Huh? The people assembled seemed just as stunned as he was. Since when did anything get named after an ancient Sith Lord?

Grogu would have asked those questions but suddenly their seating disk was flying forward and, before Ian could get it under control, slow it down, veer off, or do anything that would have helped prevent a crash with the Dathomiran seating disk, it crashed into the Dathomiran seating disk. 

Grogu went flying and landed on the control console of that Dathomiran seating disk, much to everyone’s surprise. He certainly hadn’t done that on purpose, but as long as he was there he thought he could ask those questions. Who better than the Dathomirans to answer him? But he over estimated how willing the Senator would be to respond to questions when he was covered with someone’s blood. But persistence was an important Jedi trait and Grogu tried to ask his question. The Dathomiran Senator was able to ignore him for two reasons. First, he was bellowing to the Chancellor that there would be hell to pay before the Dathomirans ever came back to the galactic Senate, due to this outrage. And second, one of attendants was trying to wipe the blood up, but just managed to smear it around. 

It occurred to Grogu that given his location he could probably fly the seating disk over to the first aid station at the base of the room in order to help the obviously upset and injured Senator. Unfortunately, he knew just as much as Ian had about flying the disks and before he knew it the disk leapt forward and struck another disk and then shot backward, hitting the Jedi younglings’ disk again, and then finally, it plummeted to the floor of the Senate chamber. 

Grogu arrested the fall just in the nick of time, because after all using the Force to save your butt and the butts of the people with you was a typical Jedi behavior. The Dathomirans were not impressed and before he knew it they actually answered all his questions about why they would want to honor Darth Revan. 

He was glad about that at least. The trip wasn’t a total waste of time. Although he knew he’d never hear the end of it from Ian. Or Master Yoda. The protocol droid had nothing to say to him because it had been the source of the ‘blood’ on the Senator from Dathomir and was no longer functional. A lot like the Razor Crest, strangely enough. Life was strange and then it just got stranger.

[ruins-and-rewritez]

DAY 3: POETRY

Wylan didn't mind hosting guests at the mansion, far better then the cold interior he'd become used to growing up. Guest rooms for each of his friends, should they feel like staying past the more reasonable hours of the day, which they often did (especially when someone had to much wine *cough* Nina *cough*)

On occasion he a Jesper would host an illierate street urchin or runaway, in his father's old bedroom nonetheless, just to stick it to the pathetic bastard.

His mother Marya had her own room, on the ground-level, adjacent to the solarium, where she'd spend time reading or painting or simply sitting peacefully gazing into the distance toward the ocean.

He and Jes, had comfortable none-master-bedroom, in the upper back corner of the house, where there had been a nursey once, before he'd grown up in to a father-disappointing member of the Merch Council and a part time demo expert.

Inej had a space in one of the fewer third floor allotments, where she could escape out the window if she so desired, or stay up into the wee hours feeding any birds scavenging the neighborhood.

Kaz hardly ever spent the night anywhere that wasn't his office, signing and loging and shuffling and flipping through paper work efore catching a scant few hours before dawn. But when he did he stayed across from Inej's room. Somehow taking comfort being near even in the event she was out at sea.

Nina and Matthias stayed as close to the kitchen as possible, to curb their healty appetites as well as appeasing their night-owl tendencies. Nina was particularly fond of cooking and eating minature breakfast platters late in the night. Matthias trailing along to brew a cup of tea while she bustled around.

The pair visited often, spliting their time between Ravka and Fjerda and Ketterdam, helping Grisha and changing minds of the more obstinately small mind people.

Nina made sure to always bring back sweaters or snacks or Jesper the latest fashion from Os Alta or Wylan some obscure chemical ingredient for his experiments.

This time it was a red-purple plant only found on the Ravkan-Shu Han border. He had high expectations for the explosions properties it was known for. (Kaz had a small operation planned within the next month that Wylan was determined to make go smoothly).

Wylan headed out back toward his lab, after a suitable lunch of plums and honey-bacon sandwich with avacado.

"Du kommer til en varm region

den er myk og disig

men da vil jeg ikke lenger være meg,

men skogen. " *¹

The distress in Mathhias' voice caused Wylan to pause in confusion, he thought he'd left with Nina and Jes for lunch at the reestablished Crow Club (to bother Kaz she'd explained over breakfast).

"Uhhhh you good Mat?" *² He asked stepping sideways into the open doorway.

"Dritt. Helvete."

Matthias continued his muttering, clearly frustrated with whatever he was reading off the paper in his hand, like Wylan had never spoken, ripping his hand roughly through his blond hair.

"Mat?"

Matthias looked up sharply, startled, at the young Hendricks standing innocently in the doorway, "Wylan?"

"Yes?"

The soldier in front of him never looked more embarassed, his face pinked up to his ears and he turned to hid it. "I thought were working."

"Stopped for lunch. Something wrong?"

The Fjerdan sighed and made a look of resignation before tiredly handing the scrap of paper over to the younger man.

"I was...practicing...for Nina."

Wylan took the paper long enough to make out the discernable scribble of foreign characters before handing it back. "Sooo what is it?"

Matthias redden even more as the realisation came over him that the words were A. in a foreign language Wylan didn't know and B. that Wylan couldn't read them even if the weren't.

"Faen. Sorry I forgot."

Wylan shrugged it off, it would be worse if his friends made a deal of remembering it. Forgetting was a blessing.

"I just...I'm nervous."

"Why?"

He took a moment to collect his thoughts before answering, "In Fjerda, there's always a courtship. What I have with Nina is..unconvential. I thought I might try to give her the experience of a normal courtship." He studies the paper in his hands almost timidly, "I wrote her a poem. I thought I might read it to her over our dinner before we leave again."

Wylan smiled, "Nina will love it I'm sure. She managed to fall in love with you while you both wanted to kill each other, I'm sure a poem good or bad won't damage what the two of you have."

Matthias seemed heartened at this before his face flushed again,"do you think you might listen to me practice? Help me get rid of the nerves?"

Wylan grinned and through himself into a plump armchair across from him. "Do your worst." He sat quiet and patience as the other man pushed his way through the words like a challenging task the he was intent on getting it perfect. When he finished he looked up expectantly.

"Well considering that I have know clue what the hell you just said I think its great."

~~~~

*1: The last stanza of the poem "Assimilation" (translated into Norwegian), by Finnish author Eeva-Liisa Manner I thought it was fitting of Matthias' character

"you will come to a warm region

it is soft and hazy

but then I will no longer be me,

but the forest."

*2: I think Matthias would have eventually grown comfortable enough with the rest of the Crows to except nicknames. Matty by Nina. Mat by Inej and Wylan. Jesper still calls him Matthias. Kaz ofc calls him Helvar.

I used modern Norwegian in place of Fjerdan as it is an incomplete fictional language,

Dritt: Shit

Helvete: Damn it

Faen: Fuck

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.178 thoughts

[Legs for Days]

(Contents: Rip and Latla analysis, Sick/general UMA analysis)

...Wait, can't Rip turn off Unrepair? He cut Sean's gut open last loop AND implanted a third eye on him, and he explicitly told him that he could deactivate Unrepair to save him if he joined Under. So...there's no reason he can't operate on Leila in this loop! He just needs to learn how to turn it off first, I imagine, since obviously he killed Leila before when he didn't know he even had a power

Huh...I hope that revelation doesn't diminish the weight of any of the scenes to come

It certainly doesn't take anything away from the climax of this week's chapter: Rip AND Latla using Blade Runner in tandem! I knew Tozuka would find a way to make forcing Rip to use it again make sense without completely contradicting Latla's wish for Rip not to do so, but I never saw this coming! This is a really nice middle ground between Latla's statements last loop; "I don't want to see you wearing these dangerous things" and "Don't hog the spotlight, Rip, if it means saving Leila, I'll do whatever it takes, too"

Latla's issue with Rip's behavior wasn't just that he was self-destructive, but that he was leaving her behind while he did so, never allowing her to share any of the burden. By cutting off his legs and replacing them with Blade Runner, Rip walked onward without Latla, forcing her to always be trailing behind him. Now, though, they've taken that step together and will be walking side-by-side until they achieve their shared goal

Now, I do imagine that this will make using Blade Runner more difficult. Certain blade shapes may be more difficult to produce via coordinating between two users, and the flight ability may be harder to use since it won't be as easy to balance, but there are bound to be advantages too. For one, they don't have to be attached at the hip, so Rip and Latla could potentially do pincer attacks while also having more flexibility to make less conventional blade shapes. More importantly, this forces Latla to be on the battlefield more directly, so her prediction ability will likely come more into play like when Rip used her to create a scatter attack in the pre-Spring fight

I'll save any further discussion of Blade Runner for next week once we see it in action, though. I'm sure I'll have a lot to say about it

For now, I want to talk about Sick for a bit. Aside from Clothy, I think he might be the most endearing UMA thus far on the basis that he's shockingly human. Not only is he the single most human-shaped UMA we've ever met (Seal being a close second), he's also got a pretty well-defined personality. Not only was seeing him getting mopey over being ignored a novel reaction among the UMA, he also is one of only two UMA that we've met that's taken a direct interest in human culture, the other being Spring. Where Spring loved games, Sick loves music, and both wear human clothes

I wonder if perhaps this is meant to signify that they don't have the total disdain for humanity that God wants them to, with clothes acting as a symbol affinity with humans? That would certainly explain why Clothy was so easily endeared to Andy and Fuuko; as the clothes they wear, he is literally the closest UMA to humanity, so when other UMA follow that Rule that shouldn't apply to them, they also become closer to being human

Sick also says that he's the only Rule to make the world turn beautifully, which is clearly false considering that he's number 10 of the Master Rules, but that's also pretty reminiscent of Spoil's mentality. Spoil claimed that the world was ugly before he came into being, and that it's thanks to him that humans stopped taking their lives for granted

I think it's fair to say that every UMA views their Rule as necessary and beautiful, but it's really interesting that two Rules pertaining to death have explicitly called their abilities beautiful and noted how they help humanity survive. Sick is necessary for population control, and Spoil is necessary for both the nutrient cycle and for helping humanity appreciate what they have. It's ironic, then, that both of them have those viewpoints while having been ordered by God to make humanity suffer. Yes, they enjoy the sounds of agony and the sight of rotten bodies, but that's just them reveling in the negative aspects of their Rules because that's what God wants them to do; if it weren't for that order, how would they feel about the suffering of humanity? Would they be neutral to it, as a necessary step in regulating the Rules that allow humans to find meaning in their continued existance? Would it be like a human caring for a garden, tenderly caring for the plants that survive by preening those that don't? Would they have resigned acceptance of the death they cause, mourning the dead as an unfortunate side effect?

I think that's the case, given Spring's tears at the revelation that there were humans who could accept him in the end

Something I've always wondered was what would happen to the UMA once God is defeated. The Earth and humanity will remain in the end; people will still be able to live and die as they choose, allowed to make their own mistakes and seal their own fates without the aid or interference of the Gods, but will the UMA themselves all be killed with their Rules left behind with no one to oversee them? It's become abundantly clear that while they aren't human, the UMA are people too, crafted in God's image just as humanity was. In a sense, I suppose the UMA are a sort of angel, which now that I think about it is a perfectly apt comparison since we first met Spoil disguised as an angel statue

Will it be fair to them to cull the UMA as monsters when the truth is what they really want by their nature is to shape the world for the better? They hate humans because of how God nurtured them, but they want to create something beautiful, and it's quite clear to me that, if you ignore their devotion to a cruel master, they've actually done exactly that. The world is a fascinating and beautiful place, ever-changing and spurring its people to grow, and as Fuuko says herself, the Rules aren't really punishments, they're just something that bad people can take advantage of like anything else. The goal shouldn't be to kill off and destroy the Rules, but to craft the Rules in such a way that they benefit people instead of oppressing them

Look at that, once again Undead Unluck has me worrying about the wellbeing of the enemies, but this time it's about the monsters rather than the people. Just another thing that cements UU as one of my favorite series; I never really cared about what would happen to the Hollows in Bleach or the Akuma in D.Gray-Man, but I honestly really do hope that the UMA get just as happy an ending here as the Negators

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Cruz

To whoever is reading this: I hope whatever holiday you happen to celebrate this time of year is going fantastic for you! Best wishes, and Happy New Year!!!

I personally celebrate Christmas (and even if I didn't, gift-giving would still be my primary love language to friends and family), so I figured it would be fun to create a fanego as a present for my amazing buddy @sammys-magical-au! Just a little something to show my gratitude for all the times they've helped me brainstorm for my stories!

(I might try to do this for more of my Tumblr friends next year; I'll admit that this instance was kinda last-minute 😅)

So, since this character is for Sammy, he's obviously a LixianEgo

Cruz is basically my headcanon name for the character that Lixian voices in Late Night Mop. (I actually brought up the idea of making said character into an ego in an ask I sent to Sammy a while ago.)

When I watched the Let's Plays of LNM roll out, I grew attached to the theory that the whole last-minute cleaning job was actually just a trap/long-con to appease the demon that had been summoned.

So. . .yeah. Cruz may not be part of a cult, but he's still what most wannabe cultists like to pretend they are. As for why Cruz chose to make a hobby out of summoning horrific abominations. . .well, I'm not really sure, but I know he's not gonna explain himself anytime soon.

I won't say Cruz isn't a bit of a misanthropist, but he still knows how to interact with others. I.e., how to put on a personable facade in order to "make friends" until he's gained enough of their trust to lure them into his escapades. You can't just mingle with outer monstrosities without making a sacrifice or two, after all.

On the other side of the coin, Cruz has a shocking knack for taking mind-melting eldritch vibes in stride. Honestly, he's way more casual and collected when hanging out with atrocities against nature than he is around his fellow humans.

He's grown a decent collection of occult books/artifacts over the years. Most things in this collection have been acquired through less-than-legal means, because duh. Cruz has long-since learned to navigate the more paranormal side of the Dark Web/Black Market.

He's picked up several languages in order to translate for his projects. Some are human (such as Latin/Pig Latin). Others. . .not so much (the pronunciation is difficult for someone without multiple forked tongues, but Cruz is nothing if not a determined bastard, so he manages).

He's also musically-inclined (inspired by the fact that there's a violin hanging on the wall in LNM's master bedroom). The majority of summoning rituals don't require music, but he'll be over the moon whenever he manages to find one that does.

If LNM didn't make it obvious, Cruz isn't phased by gory stuff. Hell, the bloody mess in that game is small potatoes compared to some of the other offerings/rituals he's set up in the past (and in the future. . .😈)

That demon from LNM wasn't the first ungodly creature Cruz has summoned, and it certainly won't be the last, either. In fact, his latest schemes may or may not involve. . .ah, what's his name again? Oh yeah! The terrifying EldritchPlier himself, as well as Lunky and Co. (*cough-cough* Cruz has also probably entered a contract with my very own LeviathanPat on the side *cough-cough*)

Thanks to all the surreal shenanigans he's experienced, Cruz has developed a literal sixth sense. Though it takes concentration/mental strength, he can see/hear/feel/smell/taste all kinds of things that most people are better off not being aware of.

While Cruz operates with little regard for his own sanity or the well-being of other people, he still has enough morals to not sacrifice babies/kids.

Happy Holidays, Sammy!!! I know this isn't much, but I hope you like this guy! Please feel free to write about him whenever you want! (No pressure of course, but still!)

(Also hey @inkbedou, I know I'm super late to tag you in this, but I know you like Lixian as much as Sammy does, and you've enjoyed the stuff I make before, so. . .yeah! Just thought you might be interested to see a new fanego! Again, sorry for how late I am to mention this to you 😅)

[artemistorm]

https://at.tumblr.com/unexpectedtraveler/ive-always-been-conflicted-when-writing-fics-or/66x4zruc0l7z

I do think Link (wild) died at some point. (It is called the Shrine of Resurrection, after all)

It would explain why it took so long as well. (Also extra angst)

Did Link die or not? Did his heart stop beating? Did his brain stop making brain waves? I dunno for sure. BotW Canon never says and I doubt we’ll ever find out the what the Nintendo Zelda Team intended when they came up with the game lore (if they even knew themselves). In the long run, whether or not Link died doesn’t really matter because the result was the same. Link enters the shrine broken and dying and he exits the Shrine 100 years later with a healthy body and a blank mind in a new world. (I’ll come back to this in a minute.)

Ok, ok, ok, you got me excited. You bring up a very good point of something that’s always bothered me but no one else talks about. Why did it take exactly 100 years for Link to wake up?

Even with Link’s mortal injuries, it would have taken at least a couple months, but probably up to a couple of years to completely heal Link. How long’s a couple? I dunno. 2? 3? 5? But surely not more than 10. So why didn’t Link wake up once he was all better? Why did it wait 100 years?

I’ve figured a couple of possibilities.

The Shrine has an internal timer set at 100 years either by default or by design. Maybe that’s what it defaulted to once the Shrine was made operational by Zelda, Purah, and co. (it doesn’t sound like any of them knew it would take 100 years for Link to awaken). Or maybe that’s what the ancient Sheikah set it to 10,000 years ago as part of their master plan to destroy the Calamity the next time it awoke.

The Shrine was waiting for an external signal to awaken Link, such as the Guardian Towers around Hyrule castle sensed Zelda’s weakening power and Ganon’s growing strength and sent the signal to awaken the Hero. Or maybe the Shrine would have held Link in stasis forever and Zelda had to use her Goddess powers from afar to force the Shrine to release Link. Or maybe the corporeal ghost of King Rhoam somehow intentionally triggered the Shrine to start its awakening process.

The Shrine was waiting for certain conditions of the world to be met, like X% of Guardians to decay, monster population to rise to a certain level, Hylian population to rise back to X number of people, Hylian civilization to return to a certain level of advancement, etc. Although, I don’t know how the Shrine would sense these things since the Sheikah towers and shrines weren’t activated yet. *Magic*

The Shrine was waiting for Link to choose to wake up. This is the least likely in my opinion but most angsty idea. Maybe once Link was healed, the Shrine was waiting for him to attempt to wake up on his own, but maybe Link didn’t want to for whatever reason (guilt, shame, sadness, fear etc.). The Shrine gave him time, hoping he’d come to term with his regrets, but it didn’t happen, and the Shrine predicted that he never would by his own accord and opted to erase his mind and reset him, to manually and physically remove the mental barrier he had to waking up. I could definitely see this process taking a long time since the Shrine would have had to cherry pick what things, what neural pathways in his brain to leave or to take away.

So did Link die? Did he not die? Why was he asleep for 100 years? The answer is simple:

What do you think?

But that’s the beauty of storytelling. It’s two-way, the storyteller tells you the main parts of the story, but you get to fill in the gaps. Whatever you think the answer is, that is the correct answer. That is canon. And I think it’s really so beautiful that there are so many different versions of canon for the same story. It’s so cool to me to see all these different interpretations and everybody is right. It really makes this story so rich and it leaves so much opportunity for exploration in the fandom.

[nurseydexunsolved]

im watching fantasy high: sophomore year and i want to make some predictions, bc i unfortunately missed the live fandom for this but i am in love with this mystery and feel like ive worked some of it out while still having a lot of it remain unclear (shoutout brennan’s masterful construction of this mystery) HUGE SPOILERS ahead obviously

so pretty much as soon as brennan mentioned that the familiar was turned into a plague, i had put together that kalina is the familiar that can only exist in infected hosts without any physical form of her own.

that makes me think that the nightmare king IS the mystery goddess’s “name.” it was said that the name was transformed into Something Else, which makes sense why no one can figure out What the nightmare king actually IS.

however, what i cant decide on is kalina’s actual alliance—is she allied to the nightmare king OVER the goddess, since bringing back the goddess would mean turning her back into a regular familiar? so far all we know about her motivations is she wants power. however, it’s possible that she DOES want the mystery goddess back because she no longer wants to be limited to a plague that operates in the shadows at the mercy of her hosts, but instead wants a body back that she can use. i have to assume the nightmare king’s main goal is PREVENTING the re-making of the mystery goddess, since that would mean he ceases to exist in his current form

—so i haven’t figured out to what degree they are working together or against each other. obviously arianwen is ostensibly working with kalina, but i haven’t decided if i think she’s working FOR her or in some kind of misguided alliance where arianwen’s goals are unknown. i feel like arianwen wants to bring the mystery goddess back, and i think aelwyn is being manipulated, perhaps upon threat of harm to arianwen or adaine, to help. her part in freshman year seems like it was mainly about getting the coin from kalvaxis, which also explains all the memory manipulation to prevent evidence of kalina’s intervention from being detected.

i also so far am kind of on team re-make the mystery goddess lmao. it would eradicate the nightmare king and she sounds pretty dope; i guess it all depends if brennan has some master plan where she actually wants to destroy the world or whatever😭

i definitely have the mystery-unraveling advantage over the PCs of a) bingeing it all at once with each clue fresh in my head and b) not having to balance the actions and motivations of my character while solving the mystery, but even with that i still love how much of the plot remains unclear. i can feel all the little threads brennan is leaving that will make me go OH later and i am very excited about it

[xalatath]

I've been thinking a lot about Uinen and Denathrius' relationship so if you wanna hear those thoughts I'll explain under the cut. TW for like...general talk about abusive dynamics and coercion, stuff of that nature. Generally pretty dark

It's a very interesting concept to me because a relationship between a mortal and an Eternal One is probably the single worst power dynamic that can be achieved in WoW. And such a relationship was never ever supposed to happen since mortals were not supposed to be in the Shadowlands in the first place

I think Denathrius did genuinely care about Uinen to a degree. Whether or not he actually loved her is up for debate. But an Eternal One, who has no concept of ever being mortal or even having any less power than...100% control over their respective realm, would unintentionally damage a mortal's psyche if they were to have a relationship with one. The difference in power is just so incredibly immense. Denathrius, whether or not he cared about Uinen, did not offer a choice in this relationship. He gets what he wants, end of story. Though Uinen was dubiously willing to engage, there is the understanding that she has absolutely no semblance of control or power in this relationship. She may as well be nothing more than an object of lust to him. An Eternal One fundamentally cannot comprehend how a mortal mind operates and vice versa. They could not be any more different

And Uinen's actual genuine willingness can be debated. She was attracted to him at first sight because who isn't. He obviously perceives this and uses it to his advantage. He was attracted to her only because she is mortal and therefore useful to him (Mortal anima is way more potent than the normal anima the Venthyr get) Uinen is tortured and drained of anima by the harvesters while held captive in Castle Nathria, but not by Denathrius himself (although he knew this was happening and allowed it to continue, and also Remornia, who I write as his wife, tormented Uinen out of jealousy and boredom/pure bloodlust too)

Finally, he must feel some amount of remorse because he allows Uinen out of the dungeon with almost free range in Castle Nathria, though she can't leave the castle and can't go out of sight. She is still a prisoner but with a few more privileges. In Uinen's mind, Denathrius saved her from the torment that he was complicit in in the first place which (to her) is a generous act. Keep in mind that she is already psychologically broken by the torture at this point. So she develops this weird fixation with him, so of course she'd agree to be his consort because what an honor and it's the least she can do for him after his Noble Deed of "saving" her

So obviously this does not really count as consent because of the extreme coercion involved. So yeah, pretty toxic relationship even if Denathrius wasn't really that cruel to her personally. But it also explains her loyalty to him even after she's freed, which everyone finds extremely odd given that it was very obvious that she was abused while in Castle Nathria

And on some level, Uinen is still not very aware of this. There is a part of her that misses that relationship because of the power she believed it gave her. No one could fuck with her because she was the Master of Revendreth's prized possession. A feeling of invincibility, I guess. Even if she was being held captive and wanted freedom

For some reason I'm really invested in the psychology of my characters. I like to explore how they think and why they do the things they do. And I know it's weird that I like writing such dark stuff about a character that I really love, but whatever

[oneinathousand]

This is the most wild story I've heard about Christopher Lee jfc... (full thing here)

"He told me he personally arrested SS Chief Kaltenbrunner and other Nazis after the war. He said he was present at some of the Nuremberg trials and helped the hangman.

[...]

"When we made Howling 2 in Communist controlled Prague I flew into that city with Christopher. As we landed I saw a military welcoming committee out the window and wondered aloud who that could be for? “That’s for me,” said Chistopher, “I’m a hero here. I was involved in the assassination of SS Chief Reinhardt Heydrich.”"

I had heard about the Reinhardt Heydrich part of the story before, but not the fucking "helped the hangman of the Nuremberg Trials" part???????

Some context: The person writing this is a director and documentarian named Philippe Mora. Christopher Lee was normally very tight-lipped about the secret parts of whatever he did during WWII, but during the making of The Howling II: Your Sister is a Werewolf, Lee explained to Mora about what had happened with Heydrich. Mora said in another interview that he thought Lee was exaggerating until he went to Lee's apartment afterward (I think in the 90's), saying:

"He had a room full of memorabilia from the Nazis he’d been involved in arresting. When they arrest them, they rip off their insignia and Christopher collected those."

Wow. What an interesting story. I'd love to believe it. Really, I would. I would love if the phrase "hangman of Nazis" were added to the long list of awesome things he did, and people would keep making very clever jokes about Lee being the main character of real life.

There's just one problem: Four years before the making of The Howling II, Lee did an interview for the January 1981 issue of WET Magazine (speaking with the writer Ann Bardach) where several of his answers to the questions directly contradict what Mora claims Lee told him. He said of his own work:

Lee: We had nothing to do with the major war criminals, though. We were after anybody, anybody who was on a list we were given.

Bardach: How many people were on the list?

Lee: The figures were enormous. There were literally thousands of people arrested. I think out of that number, only some-thing like 150 were executed, actually.

Bardach: Executed where? At Nuremberg?

Lee: I had nothing to do with that. The Nuremberg executions were carried out by an American hangman, a master sergeant named John Woods of San Antonio, Texas. We operated wherever we were told to go.

Also, as for whether or not Lee was at the very least present for the Nuremberg Trials, he didn't say either way, but claimed to have been present for more than 50 executions during his service.

Okay, so there's four possibilities here. A. Lee lied to Bardach but told Mora the truth (or at least a partial truth). B. Lee told Bardach the truth but lied to Mora. C. Mora is the one who's making shit up. D. Some parts of Mora's story might be true, and other parts might not be.

I will concede that it's a tad bit strange that Lee would specifically go "I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH NUREMBERG" in the magazine when Bardach didn't ask him if he was involved with it or not. I suppose that if one were genuinely keeping secrets, especially of the clandestine government activity nature, you would be more likely to lie publicly in something that could be viewed by many people than in a one-on-one private conversation with somebody.

If the story about the military greeting at the airport is true and was definitely for Lee, it would lend more credence to the idea that he was more than a simple pencil-pusher. But if Lee DID lie to Mora, it would be such a spectacular dick move that I wouldn't like him anymore, lol.

As for Mora, if you're wondering why Lee would allegedly partially spill the beans to the director of The Howling II: Your Sister is a Werewolf, of all people, it's because Mora has made some well-regarded documentaries in the past. As I understand it, his documentary Swastika in particular was a pretty big deal at the time for showing a more mundane side of Hitler, Goebbels, Georing, etc. with footage that had never been widely seen before and demonstrating that they are all too human. Lee apparently respected these documentaries and had previously befriended Mora during their previous collaboration, Captain Invincible.

However, it's not really helping Mora's case that he seems to get some details wrong or inconsistent during his recollections. For example, in his interviews with the sites Oregon Artswatch as well as Bloody Disgusting, he says Lee told him he assisted the executioner Albert Pierrepoint in the hanging of Ernst Kaltenbrunner, when Pierrepoint didn't have anything to do with Nuremberg and it was John Woods and Joseph Malta who carried out those executions, with Lee mentioning the former by name in that WET Magazine interview. Get your facts straight, Mora, that's a pretty big one to mess up... Maybe since he's getting pretty old, he mixed up executioners... on two separate occasions...

The whole "Lee was the assistant hangman at Nuremberg" part is where my suspension of disbelief about all his shenanigans is really breaking. How on Earth would he be have been able to get involved? Did he just waltz into the execution room, say "Hey guys I was in Special Forces, I want to help you hang some Nazis :D" and they were like "Sure buddy, come on in, the more the merrier!"

I can believe that he could have been present for the actual trials, he hadn't started his acting career yet, so if he were in the audience, he wouldn't be making a scene, but directly participating in executions??? I'm gonna need more of a source than "trust me, bro". Also I'm gonna need more of a confirmation about Lee being involved with the planning of Heydrich's assassination.

Mora has actually recently been trying to make a documentary about this whole story called "Dracula: Vampire Hunter", so hopefully we'll see some hard evidence for these wild claims pretty soon. It's supposed to be a mix of historical footage and reenactments. In an interview with Fangoria from 2022, Mora said that the pandemic slowed things down and they were also having trouble finding somebody who could portray Lee in the recreations, and I don't know what the status of it is as of 2024. I say toss the reenactments and just give us the story, but you do whatever you want with your movie, I guess. Just bring the receipts, that's all I ask.

In the meantime, maybe somebody should play Where's Waldo/Wally with pictures of the Nuremberg Trials and the subsequent executions and see if they can find a certain tall fellow in his mid-20's who looks like this:

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

The Tomato Episode :: "Little Casino" :: Gilbert Sorrentino

He had been, for many years, intrusive, selfish, callous, controlling, petty, and childish, and given to prevarication, forgetfulness, and maddening self-justification. An almost intolerable clod of a husband, whose smug egotism made him a good target for his wife’s occasional, unexpected, and thoroughly justified countermeasures. One night, when his wife asked him to slice a tomato for their supper, he took a large, ripe tomato out of the refrigerator, and noticed that there was a half-tomato there as well, covered tightly in shrink wrap. He took that out, too. He had sliced this half-tomato and was beginning to slice the whole tomato, when his wife asked him why, why he’d sliced the half-tomato when she had expressly asked him to slice a tomato, a whole tomato. With the counterfeit, smug patience that often causes brutal assaults and even murders to be committed upon those who pretend its possession, he explained that he’d sliced the half-tomato and would now slice half of the whole tomato, so that they could “use up,” was his phrase, the older, so to speak, half-tomato, and save half of the newer, so to speak, whole tomato. He indeed employed the phrase, “so to speak,” in itself a maddened attacker’s defensible justification for battery.

He quietly noted that if it was her heart’s desire, he would slice the entire whole tomato, should she feel that a tomato and a half would not be too much for supper, considering, no, knowing of the wonderful meal that she was certainly preparing. She asked him why he thought, why in Christ’s name did he think, what gave him the goddamned idea that she wanted him to slice the goddamned half-tomato to begin with. Huh? He said, almost bloated with reasonableness, that it seemed a perfectly reasonable “operation to perform,” yes, he said that, that is: to “use up” the half a tomato that had been in the refrigerator since the day before yesterday, losing flavor and juiciness and vitamins and fucking minerals, whatever the hell they have, to eat the thing, made perfect sense to him. Did he ever, ever, ever, she asked, stop to think that maybe she was saving that half a tomato for something, that she had plans for it? Plans? he said. Plans? Plans? He said that if she indeed had, ah, plans, big plans for the fucking half a fucking tomato, could she not use the half-tomato that would be left after he finished slicing the whole tomato? Couldn’t she? She told him that it wasn’t his business to decide for her which half a tomato she wanted to use. To use, he said, to implement your big plans. She said that her decisions were her decisions and that if she wanted to take all the miserable goddamned tomatoes and throw them out the window, it was her business!

He said that he hadn’t intended to make decisions for her, God forbid, he simply thought that blah blah and sensible blah, that he thought that it was something that she herself would do, blah. You have no idea, you have no idea, you don’t have any idea what I’d do about it, you have no idea what I’d do about anything, that’s the trouble, that’s always been the trouble, and wasn’t, she added, wasn’t it about time that he seriously started looking for a job? with his Master’s in sociology? And did it ever occur to him while he watched the ball game that she didn’t feel like eating a stale tomato, a dried-out tomato, that she wanted a fresh tomato? Or was the ball game too intellectually demanding? She said that when she asked him to do something she wished that he would, just once, do it, and not do something else and then spend three hours trying to convince her that that’s what he thought she wanted him to do. I ask you to cut a tomato, cut a tomato! At which, with a small, hapless smile, he asked her, whining, whether she wanted him to continue slicing the whole tomato, or just half of it, and what about the sliced half-tomato now? He stood, slightly slumped, as if crushed in spirit, unmanned, impotent, a posture which his arrogant sneer belied. She said that he could do what he wanted to do, the king of the kitchen, the reader of minds, the weaver of dreams, he could slice, not slice, stick the tomatoes up his ass slice by slice, send them to the goddamned stupid millionaire bastard Pittsburgh Cubs. As for her, she didn’t want any tomatoes or any supper, for that matter! She washed and dried her hands and walked out of the kitchen. What about the chicken? he asked. What about the chicken? I said, what about the chicken? And the rice? The sliced tomato on the cutting board had the placid look of all blameless objects that have been swiftly carried across time so as to bewilder and confound.

[Thank you Mikhail Iossel]

[fardell24b]

Spider Quinn 05 - The Trip to Freemont - Part 1

05 The Trip to Freemont

Jane looked at the card Daria held out. “Wow. Licensed to drive. The grotesque picture makes it official.”

“Thanks,” Daria said.

“So now that you're in the government's master computer for the rest of your life, let's celebrate,” Jane said.

Inside, Jane took some cake out of the freezer. “Tada!”

“It looks kind of old,” Daria commented.

“Yeah, well, I baked it way back when you took the test the first time,” Jane explained.

“You baked this?”

“Baked, bought. Let's not ruin the moment with a lot of technical mumbo-jumbo.”

Then Mystik Spiral arrived.

“Cake,” Trent said.

“Cool,” Jesse said.

“It’s for Daria,” Jane explained.

“He can have some. I mean, they can have some,” Daria said.

“What’s up, Birthday?” Trent asked.

“She got her license,” Jane explained.

“Whoa! This thing is really hard and cold. You think it's frozen?”

“Could be, Nick, could be. It just might have to thaw out.”

“I’ll wait,” Jesse said.

“No, you won't. We can't hang around, man. We've got a world tour! World tour!” Max Tyler said.

“Then we'd better find a hammer. Come on, Nick,” Jesse said, before leaving.

“Let 'em go,” Daria said. “They'll give it a good home. What world tour?”

“We got a gig in Freemont, 100 miles away,” Trent answered.

“It’s a small world after all,” Daria commented

“If I could talk to the animals. Anyway, I told you about that, remember? I'm the road management coordinator?”

“You mean we're paying you 20 bucks to drive us.”

“Let's not cloud the horizon with a lot of semantic hair-splitting,”

“You ought to come along, Daria,” Trent said.

“Forget it! I tried. She's house-sitting,” Jane said.

“My mother is away for the weekend, I told her I’d keep Quinn from turning the place into a modelling agency.”

“Too bad. It’s gonna be cool,” Trent said.

“Yeah, I was there with my Dad… once…” Daria said, trailing off. His death was still rather fresh in her mind. “Anyway, isn’t it a lot duller than Lawndale?”

“Hey, not after the Spiral gets there! We're criminales! We live life on the edge! You go up against the Spiral, we're gonna take you down!” Max said.

“Even if it’s SpiderGirl?” Daria asked.

“I bet she’s a bored cheerleader with too much free time,” Trent said.

“That doesn’t explain what she’s been seen doing,” Daria said.

“Maybe.”

Elsewhere in Lawndale, SpiderGirl had captured a would-be thief.

“Like, who would try to rob a store in broad daylight?” she asked him.

“It’s early in the morning on an overcast day,” the thief responded.

“I guess so,” the young superheroine said as she looked down the alley the store opened onto. “Now, before I call the cops, I’d like to know if you’re working alone, or are following orders or whatever.”

“Why would you want to know that?”

“I’ll tell the cops, duh! Maybe you’ll get off lightly in court,” SpiderGirl said.

“Right. It was this person…” the thief started before shaking his head. “I don’t know their name. But I do know they’re operating out of Freemont!”

“Freemont? Isn’t that a dull town in the middle of nowhere?”

“He said it would lower suspicion.”

“I see,” SpiderGirl said. “Well, he’ll find that he isn’t beyond my reach.”

“Wait!”

“Yes?” SpiderGirl said as she wrote her note for the police.

“That’s all I know.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I don’t know what he would do when he finds out I told you,” the thief said,

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” SpiderGirl said. She then swung away.

Daria and Quinn got home at the same time and found that their mother was rushing about, getting ready to leave.

“Mom?” Quinn asked.

“Sorry, sometimes I leave these things to the last minute. Somehow without your father…”

Daria closed the door. “It’s OK, Mom, we miss him too.”

“Yes, anyway. I told you that he and I originally arranged this trip for a marriage seminar.”

“Yes,” Quinn said sadly.

“So, now it’s a widowhood seminar?”

“Dar-i-a!” Quinn said annoying.

“You’re right, too soon,” Daria said quietly.

Her mother put her hand on Daria’s shoulder. “I wish, Daria. But somehow, Eric convinced me to turn it into a work trip.”

“I see,” Quinn said.

“Anyway, I have about five minutes.”

Soon after Helen left, Quinn’s friends arrived. Daria noticed that Sandi arrived last. ‘There’s something there,’ she thought.

Things with the Fashion Club were tense. Quinn knew that things between her and Sandi weren’t resolved regarding her hair. ‘But it’s not just that, is it?’ she thought. They had always been rivals since she had arrived in Lawndale. ‘At least it’s the same with Stacy,’ she considered.

Then there was a phone call.

She picked it up. “Hello? Morgendorffers.”

“Jane here. I’d like to talk to Daria.”

“Sure.”

Daria waited before Quinn had left the room to talk to Jane. “You’re where?”

“Jail! You gotta come get us out.”

“What happened?”

“That's the good part. I got it on tape. When Mike Wallace gets through with these backwater cops, they're not gonna know what hit 'em.”

Daria listened as Jane explained what happened. “Wow, sounds really brutal. But why are you in jail if he just gave you a ticket?”

“We're from out of state, so we're supposed to pay the fine at the sheriff's office right away. It's a hundred bucks, and we don't have it.”

“I don’t either.”

“Obviously. Look, go over to my house. Use the door with the broken lock. There's some money in the living room table, in the drawer with the missing handle. Oh, and while you're there, Trent wants you to pick up his song notebook. It's under his bed in the burnt shoe box.”

“How am I supposed to get it to you?”

“You have a license, don't you? And listen, hurry up. I'm a survivor, but I'm not so sure about the other guys.”

It wasn’t far from the Morgendorffers to Casa Lane. Daria got the money and Trent’s notebook. She did take a peek from.

After Daria had left, Quinn called the exchange, and found that the call had come from Freemont. “Eureka!” she said when she had hung up.

“What have you found, Quinn?” Sandi asked.

“Something,” she said enigmatically.

“What?”

“You don’t need to know.”

Sandi turned away in a huff.

Sandi left quicky.

“What happened?” Stacy asked.

“I have no idea,” Quinn answered.

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry,” Quinn said.

“Of course, I’m going to worry!” Stacy said. “You know me.”

She did know Stacy. “I’ll figure it out.’

Stacy nodded.

“But I’m going to be doing something with Daria…”

“Really?” Stacy asked in surprise.

“Yes, Jane and her brother’s band are in Jail and Daria is taking the bail money there.”

“Oh, but you don’t have to go.”

“It’s a rare opportunity to annoy her on a road trip!”

“I see. I’ll get Tiffany and go then,” Stacy said.

“Cool, I’ll probably be back for Buffy.”

Stacy nodded. She liked Buffy too.

[burnwater13]

Din Djarin holding Grogu in The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 5, The Jedi

Grogu’s worries were over. Yippee! His dad wasn’t going to give him away to Ahsoka Tano after all! He was safe. He got to keep his Mandalorian dad and not go back to the Jedi Temple and everything was going to be great! 

Okay. Okay. The Force had answered all that begging he did and he got to stay with Din Djarin a little longer, depending on what happened somewhere else with an entirely different Jedi. Frankly, Grogu liked those odds because how many Jedi could possibly be left? 

The ones who had defended the Republic were gone. They had either fallen to the Inquisitors or Vader or the Clones, or they had fallen and become part of the problem. Very few had escape Coruscant and the ones who hadn’t been there, and hadn’t fallen one way or the other, were so good at hiding why would they show themselves now? They wouldn’t. It was still too dangerous. 

What? Did you think everyone wanted the Jedi to return? Uh. No. They thought the Jedi were quaint relics of an ancient past, where magic was stronger than science and technology.  When they showed up it was only because bad things were already happening. Then they would end up solving the problem one way or another, but they were never around to prevent problems in the first place. That wasn’t their place.

Ian had grumbled about that a lot. A lot a lot. He thought the Jedi should go to Corellia and stop all the corruption. He said that crime was a way of life there, but the masters just shrugged at him and explained that small pockets of crime were the responsibility of the planetary security forces, not the Jedi Order. They had more important things to do. 

But Grogu understood why Ian was so annoyed about that. The people who were victims of those crimes were still people. They still needed help. And the corruption they saw operating all around them made them feel helpless and that didn’t seem like something the Force would approve of. 

Master Kenobi had shaken his head at that. 

“The Force does not approve or disapprove of our actions, younglings. What you call corruption is bureaucracy. It is how the government is meant to get its work done. It takes time. The process of justice matters. You can not cut through it like you can cut a jogan fruit. Jedi must be very careful and selective about where they weigh in. We are not any planet’s government or rulers. We advise and we negotiate.”

But, Ian argued, if justice was delayed, wasn’t that a crime? Didn’t that cause harm? Didn’t that feel like corruption, even if was technically just the proper way to do things?

Master Kenobi had sighed deeply and told them to go back to their studies. He would talk to Master Yoda. 

Things had gotten pretty busy after that and Grogu and Ian never managed to find out what Master Yoda had told him. By the time Grogu thought to bring it up himself it was too late. The Clones had started their coordinated purge and Grogu and Ian escaped from the Jedi Temple and hadn’t seen each other again to compare notes.

Now, so many years later, Grogu had been surprised to even see Ahsoka Tano. He had really thought that the Armorer had sent Din Djarin on a wild tauntaun chase.  Getting them to leave Nevarro and travel around the Outer Rim was probably a better idea than having more Imps find them on Nevarro and succeed at kidnapping Grogu. 

Of course, the Armorer wasn’t the person who sent the Mandalorian to Corvus to begin with. It was that other Mando. Bo-Katan. Grogu didn’t trust her. Why did she even know a Jedi? Whatever. Her plan to get rid of Grogu hadn’t worked either. Ahsoka Tano refused to train him and that was that. 

Grogu got to stay with his dad and they’d go to Tython and Grogu would pretend to use the Force to connect to some imaginary Jedi and when they didn’t show up he’d shrug at the tall bounty hunter and just pretend to be sad that he couldn’t rejoin the people who lost track of him because he wasn’t very important to them. It served them right. The Jedi that is. 

Because, once you got more than one Jedi in the same place at the same time, they would feel the overwhelming need to fuss with the balance of the Force. But the Force was energy. It was never out of balance. But the people who used it. Worked with it. Fought with it. They were the ones who gained or lost balance and brought others with them, one way or the other. 

Grogu was heartily tired of that and just wanted to play catch with the knob from the flight acceleration control stick and drink bone broth with his dad. A simple life of finding bad people and returning them to face justice. Following in his dad’s footsteps. They would be simple men making their way in the universe. And if he was lucky, eating some more frog eggs along the way.

Din Djarin holding Grogu while Ahsoka Tano explains where they should go to find a different Jedi. Caption reads: that has a strong connection to the Force. From The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 5, The Jedi