#shout out to all the depressed people out there. You are a fighter and you are a survivor

[lunaticus-platina]

"But I am so angry with myself now because I cannot do what I should like to do, and at such a moment one feels as if one were lying bound hand and foot at the bottom of a deep, dark well, utterly helpless."

- Vincent Van Gogh, from the letter he sent to his brother Theo on January 26, 1882

#the quarry #travis hackett #sheriff hackett #depression #vincent van gogh quote #bottom of the well #if you know you know #shout out to all the depressed people out there. You are a fighter and you are a survivor

[pumpkzsafeplace]

bear and babbles 🧸ྀི⋆˚✿˖°

welcome to the second episode of bear and babbles!! last week went really well, so we're excited to continue & help as much as we can hehe! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა.

key code │ 🧸 - daddy │ 🍼 - pumpkin.

what is bear & babbles!

bear & babbles is a cute thing that we decided to create to help talk about agere in a safe environment! we will be answering questions (both me & daddy!) and answering some emails!!

i think it'll be fun to see both point of views too, from a little (and someone who struggles with mental health) + a caregiver whose been in the role for a while now.

all emails & messages will be addressed anonymously, please don't include real names!

today's topic: triggering topics

i decided to dedicate this weeks epsisode on dealing with trigger topics given what this month means to a lot of people & although it's important to talk about a lot of things, it still can be heard to deal with <3

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

🍼 : for me, i find it sometimes difficult dealing with triggering topics as 9/10 the triggering will happen when i least expect it. i've dealt with so much in my life, that i think i forget sometimes that i'm not some emotionless human- and that things do affect me.

for me personally, i've found that it's harder to deal with the emotional side of being triggered rather than the triggered epsiode itself. i always end up feeling guilty and embarrased for reacting the way i did, like it's a moment of weakness and vulnerability i don't want anyone to see- like it makes me less of a person.

when that isn't the case.

i think the more i've tried to work on myself, i try to see my triggered epsiodes as more as a shout for for help rather than an embarrasing moment. & when that happens, i do my best to comfort and console the part of me that never recieved that love when the incidents occured (if that makes sense).

triggering will happen, especially when you're healing from things other people don't know about. but i think as a society, we've gotten better at accepting each others limits, and knowing how to comfort or even appologise when it goes too far.

but if you're struggling to calm down during an epsiode, here are things i do to help.

🠲 distract yourself : whether that be by music, by youtube, by asmr videos - distract yourself with something you love, something you care about (no sad, depressing playlists!)

🠲 reach out if you need to : you don't even have to talk about it if you're not comfortable, but instead you could suggest watching a movie with someone, going out for a walk, little things to help take your mind off it.

🠲 comfort & console : remind yourself that you will heal from this fully, and you will get better. it doesn't make you weak that you got upset. you're allowed to grieve & hurt, that doesn't make you any less of a fighter or any weaker!

also know that i believe in you, you will always have someone fighting in your corner <3.

🧸 : When it comes to triggering topics, you have to approach people with the triggers in mind. it's easy to believe that something is not a big deal for you, when in reality it could be a massive deal to somebody else.

The person in question may appraoch their struggles differently, even joke about their trauma- but that doesn't mean that they're not still stuggling with it, or will not still be affected by certain jokes/topics.

It's important to approach senstive topics in a way that makes them comfortable, and sometimes that may be in different ways that you think. i.e, texting instead of speaking, telling things vageuly instead of to the point.

As long as you're willing to listen and adapt you should be okay, and for those who are suffering- just know that there are people around that care about you, they might put their foot in their mouth sometimes when it comes to certain things, but they care, they're just learning too :).

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

i hoped this helped anyone who needed it !! <3

if you want to send an email for us to respond to, or if you have any quick fire questions you wanted answered more in depth, leave a comment or send an email using the address below!!

(tee_bee_bambi(@)hotmail.com)

gif isn't mine

#sfw age regression #sfw little community #sfw agere #agere community #age regression #safe agere #agere little #sfw little post #sfw little blog #agere blog #age regression blog #age regressor #age re safe space #age regressive #age re blog #agere sfw #sfw agereg #agere #agere lifestyle #sfw regression #sfw little one #sfw interaction only #sfw littlespace #sfw only #sfw blog #sfw little stuff #sfw furry #pet regression #agere caregiver #age regression caregiver

[spottylightning]

Lance Griffiths

Introduction

Full name: Lance Griffiths Nickname(s): Lancy, Checkers, Cowboy, Sarge, Lancelot, Stallion Gender: Male (he/him) Nationality: American Place of birth: Fort Davis, Texas, USA Age: Late forties to early fifties Callsign: Griffin Sexuality: Bisexual Occupation: Fighter aircraft Squadron: VMFA-312 "Checkerboards"

General Information

Personality: Lance is complex. Not everyone will get to know the same Hornet. On the surface, he's ruthlessly efficient at getting jobs done with military precision and strives to push himself to do better and work harder, although he can unknowingly come off as a bit too aggressive when he puts his mind to something. He has a brutal honesty to him and isn't afraid to say it how it is, which can come in handy in situations that require it. While a very stoic man on the outside, that doesn't mean he can't feel pain and sorrow, he just buries it deep down under a rough exterior. He may struggle to show emotion at times, but his loyalty is unmatched. Lance doesn't let many people see the softer side to him, mostly because he's afraid he'll be left heartbroken again. Once he does let down his walls though, he cares for you unconditionally, whether you're a friend, family, or a lover. Deep down, he's a gentle, kind, considerate and surprisingly affectionate guy who would go to the ends of the earth for those he truly cares about. Another side to him is a little more charismatic. Lance is a total charmer, there's no doubt about it. He certainly knows how to sweep someone off their feet with his soft, crooning voice or a subtle wink. Hobbies/Interests: Working out, playing guitar, singing, drawing. Likes: Horses, cooking, fishing, his family, challenging himself. Dislikes: Sweet foods in large quantities, having his opinions dismissed, laziness. Voice: Lance's typical speaking voice is very deep but smooth, though he can raise it to a commanding shout when necessary. Throughout the years, he has slowly developed a more typical southern drawl, both from his mother and time spent living in South Carolina. Compared to most of his siblings, he generally sounds more like his mother than his father.

Physical Characteristics

Species: Fighter jet Model: McDonnell Douglas F/A-18C Hornet Eye Colour: Dark blue Shape/Size: He is a very big guy in terms of fighter aircraft sizes. While standing far taller than the average F/A-18 Hornet, he is also very solid, with his build consisting primarily of thick muscle, especially around his fuselage. Notable Features: Large scarring across left LERX, smaller scars and bullet wounds can be found all over his chest, sides and underbelly. Interesting Facts: • Growing up in rural Texas, Lance has always had a bit of an accent, though it becomes much thicker when he's tired, angry, stressed or excited. • He struggles greatly with severe depression and PTSD, both from the loss of his wife and son, and being forced to fight a MiG-29 to the death for his own slim chance of survival. Lance has spent many nights awake as the nightmares became borderline unbearable. • He doesn't do very well in situations where everything is completely out of his control. As a first-time parent during Evelyn's pregnancy, Lance was stressed out about practically everything. Similarly, with Dexter, his partner had to assure him multiple times that everything was going to be okay. • He very much enjoys chin scratches. • He makes the absolute best apple pie you've ever tasted. • This man can sing, really well.

Mental Characteristics

Strengths: Dedicated, strong-willed, direct, honest, loyal, charismatic, organised. Weaknesses: Stubborn, overly dominant, insensitive, blunt, bossy, difficulty expressing emotion. Fears: Lance has an intense fear of losing those closest to him. He struggles with getting over loss and grief and finds it hard to push past what he can't get back. MBTI: ESTJ "Executive"

Relationships

Parents: • Andrew Griffiths (F/A-18A) • Sabine Griffiths (F/A-18A) Siblings: (In order of eldest to youngest. Includes gender and ages in comparison to Lance. All are F/A-18C Hornets.) • Sadie Griffiths (Female - 1 year younger) • John Griffiths (Male - 5 years younger) • Mark Griffiths (Male - 6 years younger) • Carol Griffiths (Female - 7 years younger) • Austin Griffiths (Male - 8 years younger) • Bradley Griffiths (Male - 9 years younger) • Abigail Griffiths (Female - 10 years younger) • Lucinda Griffiths (Female - 11 years younger) • Mason Griffiths (Male - 12 years younger) • Hailee Griffiths (Female - 13 years younger) • Riley Griffiths (Male - 14 years younger) • Thatcher Griffiths (Male - 15 years younger) • Cassidy Griffiths (Female - 16 years younger) • Isabella Griffiths (Female - 17 years younger) • Susie Griffiths (Female - 18 years younger) Children: • Harley Griffiths (F/A-18C x PA-34) • Jesse Griffiths (F/A-18C x F-35B) Friends: • Aaron Sullivan (F/A-18C) • Liam Grady (F/A-18C) Relationships: • Adam Haynes - former • Evelyn May - former • Dexter Dias-Sherwood - current

#disney planes #disneyplanes #art #digital art #original character #oc #planes oc #lance griffiths #spottylightning art

[gatheringbones]

[“Given how disillusioned she became, one might imagine that at some point Heather was among those who waved good-naturedly at the Code Pink protesters. Instead, she glared through her sunglasses at them, bristling at their self-righteousness.

Far from appreciating their presence, Heather viewed it as an affront, as if she and her peers needed a bunch of peace activists from Berkeley and San Francisco to have their consciences roused. “They assumed that we don’t give a shit, that we’re just a bunch of brainwashed, nonhuman robots,” she said. “They would say, ‘You know you’re killing people from across the world—you don’t care about it, you have no conscience.’ But they didn’t know us. They didn’t know what kind of shit we had to see; they didn’t know most of us wanted to go home and fucking kill ourselves. “There’s a reason that after work we’d all go and get trashed, then talk about how fucked-up mission was this week,” she went on. “I would go home and drive past these people protesting and then go have nightmares.”

It wasn’t just the protesters’ blindness to her distress that upset Heather. It was also the air of superiority she felt they gave off, an impression inflected by differences in social class. The ranks of Code Pink were dominated by educated women from middle-class backgrounds who could afford to devote their time to protesting America’s wars without worrying about how to pay their bills or make ends meet: people like Toby Blomé. The ranks of the drone program were filled with people like Heather for whom this was an unimaginable luxury, high school graduates from depressed rural areas and hard-luck towns like Lebanon, Pennsylvania.

As during the Vietnam War, when some soldiers returning home felt stigmatized by college students from more affluent families who had secured draft deferments, Heather bitterly resented the judgment of people who had the privilege not to be in her shoes. “I can guarantee that none of you has ever been put in a fucking situation where you have to kill someone or have people that you care about be killed,” she said of the Code Pink demonstrators. The protesters were equally blind to the power dynamics within hierarchical organizations like the military, she felt, shouting antiwar slogans at low-ranking enlistees who had little say over the scope of the drone campaign. “They’re personally attacking these people who have no control over what’s going on,” she fumed. “We have no control on that base over what’s going on with the drone program.”

In fact, some might argue, Heather and her peers had a lot of control. If enough of them quit or became conscientious objectors, it would almost surely have gotten the military’s attention, not least because the high burnout rate in the drone program made staffing missions challenging.

[….]

Not long after Heather got to Beale, she was assigned to provide over-watch for a mission in a Taliban stronghold in Afghanistan, alerting the marines on the ground to threats—improvised explosive devices, insurgents plotting ambush attacks—that could be spotted on the cameras affixed to the Global Hawk. The work was stressful, not least because a carefully camouflaged fighter or IED could easily escape the camera’s eye. During one shift, a group of marines disembarked from a helicopter and stormed a compound that appeared to be clear of danger. After they entered it, insurgents ambushed them. Heather watched the attack unfold in real time; then she saw one of the marines bleed out.

A few months later, another convoy fell under attack after an IED exploded, igniting a fuel truck that caused more “friendlies” to die. Once again, Heather watched the live feed in real time. At home afterward, she surfed the internet and clicked on a news story about the incident. The article listed the names of some of the soldiers who had been killed, including one who had a wife and young son. When Heather read this, she began to sob.

A week later, at a party for her unit, Heather broke down again, this time in front of her supervisor, who tried to comfort her by reminding her that she was “fighting the good fight.” The slogan had been drummed home to Heather during basic training, when new recruits were told their mission was to save lives and to protect America from “terrorists” and “towel-heads.” For all her alternative inclinations, Heather had internalized this message. She believed that she and her peers were fighting the good fight. But at the party, the words of her supervisor rang hollow to Heather, who wondered whether the mission—which had ended disappointingly, with no progress made in rooting out the Taliban—had been worth it. “Nothing was accomplished by that convoy,” she said later. “Those guys died for absolutely nothing.”

Whether innocent Afghans might also have died did not yet cross Heather’s mind. “I only felt bad about the guys that maybe we would have saved if we somehow had better technology,” she said. “It wasn’t out of any sympathy for the so-called enemy. It was out of self-preservation for our people.”

This began to change after the marine whom she befriended over Skype forwarded her documents about the area in Afghanistan she was surveilling. Like Christopher Aaron, Heather was responsible for conducting surveillance operations rather than coordinating strikes. But what she reported could determine whether a missile would be fired, and it now dawned on her that innocent civilians could die as a result.”]

eyal press, from dirty work: essential labor and the hidden toll of inequality in america, 2021

#eyal press #currently reading #cw violence #cw racism #cw suicide

[izlaniusliddel]

A Cry For Help PT1

Joan followed Pyrrha as she opened the door leading out to the roof. "Pyrrha, I know I'm going through a lot right now, but, I'm not that depressed, I could always be a farmer or something." Joan said looking down at the ground below them, they were so high up that the few students that out at this hour seemed little more than ants from the little rooftop. "NO," Pyrrha shouted hugging the blonde girl and pulling her away from the edge and turning Joan to face her, "That's not why I brought you up here," she let go of Joan, her cheeks turning almost as red as her own hair. "Joan, I know that you're having a difficult time in class, and that you're still not the strongest fighter," that last part only made Joan feel worse like she really wasn't worth it like she really was just a fraud especially coming from Pyrrha it made her want to curl up into her hoodie and cry, "So," Joan's thought was cut off "I want to help you." Pyrrha finished "What?" Joan asked, "We can train up here after class, where no one can bother us." Pyrrha said with a little bit of hope in her voice, secretly she just wanted to get closer to the blonde and having developed feelings for the knight loving her clumsy and airheaded nature. "You think I need help?" Joan said trying to hide the hurt that only bled out into her words, Pyrrha caught onto this and quickly stuttered "N-No, that's not what I meant." "But you just said it." Joan looking down at their feet. "Joan, everybody needs a little push from time to time, it doesn't make you any different from the rest of us," Pyrrha started trying to talk the blonde up "You made it to Beacon, that speaks volumes of what you're capable of." Joan turned away, that last part stung her to her very core, it was only a second before she responded but it felt like an agonizing eternity before she responded, "You're wrong," Joan said, again gazing down at the people on the ground below, she sighed "I don't belong here." "That's a terrible thing to say of course you do!" Pyrrha stated fully believing her words, Joan turned around her face looking almost angry. "No I don't," she stated seriously before sighing and looking back down at her feet, "i wasn't really accepted into Beacon."Joan turned to look at the people below "W-what do you mean?" Pyrrha reached her hand out to the blonde but she just snapped and spilt her guts to her partner "I mean I didn't go to combat school, I didn't pass any tests, i didn't earn my place at this academy, i lied!" she turned around "I got my hands on some fake transcripts and I lied." she was on the verge of tears now,Pyrrha was stunned to say the least this girl that was leading he and the rest of her team and that she was now falling head over heels for, lied? "W-what, but why?" "Because this is what I've always wanted to be, my mother, my father, my grandfather and his father before him were all warriors, they were all heroes," Joan was now full on crying "And I wanted to be one too, I was just never good enough." she gazed back to the people below. Pyrrha walked over to her and placed a hand on the blonde knight's shoulder. "Then let me help you," "I DON'T WANT HELP, I DON'T WANT TO BE THE DAMSEL IN DISTRESS, I WANT TO BE THE HERO!!!!" Joan snapped and turned to face Pyrrha, her eyes filled with angry, sad, and ashamed tears "Joan,I," Pyrrha started only to be cut off by the blonde "I'M TIRED OF BEING THE LOVEABLE BIMBO STUCK IN THE TREE WHILE HER FRIENDS FIGHT FOR THEIR LIVES! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?! IF I CAN'T DO THIS ON MY OWN," Joan grabbed her arm and looked away from Pyrrha, from her partner, from her eyes, her disappointed eyes. "then what good am I?" the last part of her sentence was more like a whisper. Looking at the pain she was in,Pyrrha would be lying if she said it didn't break her heart, and she wanted nothing more than to comfort the knight, hug her, hold her, tell her that everything would be okay, she went for it she tried to pull Joan into a hug, but, Joan pulled way "Just, leave me alone, okay?" Joan said,

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #fanfic #fem arkos #arkos #angst #fem jaune #fem!jaune #jaune x pyrrha #joan x pyrrha #fem!jaune x pyrrha #fem!arkos #beacon days #rwby fanfiction #rwby fanfic #fem jaune au

[tenebraevesper]

Shattered Worlds & Sonic Unleashed (The End of Universe)

All I have to say, the Reboot was a wild ride. It had its highs and lows, I genuinely enjoyed it. Although, it is possible that my opinion of the Shattered Worlds Arc is better since I had access to all of the Issues instead of having to wait patiently for the next one to come out.

*shrugs*

So, Shattered Worlds was an adaptation of Sonic Unleashed, aka the game where Sonic turns into a Werehog... and for those asking, I actually think that the Werehog gimmick is interesting.

Also, FLUFFY SONIC!  ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

Something I also loved about this adaptation is how involved Sonic’s friends were, like having the Freedom Fighters fight against Eggman, Knuckles and the Chaotix being the one to find Chip and Sonic learning how to control his Werehog form from a Sloth.

I also loved the battle between Dark Gaia and Sonic and Chip. It was quite epic! 

(≧◡≦)

As for Chip’s farewell speech, I have to admit, it’s kind of touching, especially when you realize that, aside from Genesis of a Hero, which were short stories adapting the Classic Sonic games, this was the only Reboot story arc in the same sense as Iron Dominion or The Master Plan Pre-Reboot.

The Reboot was pretty much over with Shattered Worlds, and speaking of Shattered Worlds - Worlds Unite. Honestly, a crossover in the middle of the storyline felt quite jarring and it also felt rushed. I guess Archie wanted to make at least one MegaMan comic featuring the cast from MegaMan X and having Sigma as the main villain while they still could, but it could’ve been done better. One thing I did like about the comic is seeing Rock and Roll’s interactions with their “younger brother” X.

Oh, and speaking of alternate universes - I was actually happy to come across Sonic Boom.

I am aware that the Sonic Boom video games were bad, but I absolutely loved the show and the comics. They were really fun to watch/read, and Sticks is absolutely amazing, especially in the crossover. The only thing that I was disappointed by is that the Sonic Boom cast (aside from Sticks) and Boom!Eggman didn’t get to interact with their counterparts.

While I liked Sonic Unleashed and Sonic Boom, my favorite part of the Reboot were the Sonic Universe comics. Honestly, it was genuinely hard to pick which story is my favorite, but if I had to choose, I’d pick the Team Dark and Knuckles stories, specifically Shadow Fall, Total Eclipse and Shattered, with a special shout-out to The Silver Age.

I really wish they could’ve done more with Silver, I genuinely liked his little storyline.

Also, speaking of wasted potential, the Reboot gave me another character I felt had potential.

Yeah, Eclipse the Darkling. While I understand that some people are sick and tired of the Black Arms, I think that the plot of Eclipse fighting Shadow, not only to get revenge on him, but also for his own survival, could’ve been expanded on.

After all, this is an alien whose entire race had been destroyed, the only other surviving member being his “brother” Shadow, who is his enemy. He is left trying to fend off for himself while taking care of the Dark Arms (basically, genetically corrupted Wisps). It’s... kind of depressing to see him struggle, even if he is an alien who wants to enslave humanity to feed off them. I would’ve really loved to see more of him.

Another highlight of Team Dark and Knuckles teaming up for me was the interactions between Shadow and Knuckles... mainly them being too stubborn to care and just ending up fighting against each other, which resulted in a lot of fun moments, like them saving each other from drowning, taking a moment to recover, then resuming their fight.

Not to mention, Rouge basically acting as if she’s a mother scolding her two bickering children (when she doesn’t turn into Bean and gets distracted by shiny jewels).

I swear, those expressions are hilarious. They know that they messed up, but are too hard-headed to admit anything. Also, special mention to anything Omega says; he was absolutely hilarious. 

The last story I have read was The Case of the Pirate Princess, where the Chaotix are hired by Echo the Dolphin to track down the missing Princess Undina, only to run into pirates. It’s a fun story, with the kicker being that they had hoped for a royal pay... only to get peanuts.

Well, and that’s it. I had managed to read through the Sonic Archie Comics and give my opinion of them. It had its good moments, it had its bad moments... and it had some really awful moments and wasted potential.

Now that I’m done, I will finally move on to IDW and one thing I’m not looking forward to is how the Sega mandates have affected the comics (especially Shadow’s character).

The Return To Sonic The Hedgehog

My opinion of Sonic (Archie) up until the Reboot.

#Ten's Thoughts #sonic archie #sonic archie comics #sonic the hedgehog #sonic unleashed #sonic boom #eclipse the darkling #shadow the hedgehog #knuckles the echidna #chip #chaotix detective agency #team chaotix #silver the hedgehog #sonic reboot #sonic universe

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - 59

Hello everyone, given how I left last chapter I decided to post the next one. This is a heavy one though. no matter how many times I read it. It still hurts like hell.

CW: character death, depression, PTSD, panic attacks, mention of alcoholism, grief, mentions of war, language, hurt/comfort and so much frigging angst.

(The gif for this week is the missing man formation performed by the airforce when one of their own dies)

A few hours earlier 

Lorcan was pacing nervously in the CIC while keeping an eye on the tactical screen. Shit had been going down for a while now and while his navy counterparts were dealing with the ships situation, his squadrons were handling the aerial attacks both on land and to their ship. His hand nervously ran through his long hair.

Sleep had been a luxury for the past 24hrs. He was surviving on caffeine and adrenaline. The first attack had happened in the middle of the night, but TNS Opportunity was a state of the art ship and the radar had picked up the attack with plenty of advance and the whole ship had been at battle stations well before the first attack arrived. 

For a split second he allowed himself to think about Elide and how much he missed her and another part of him was jealous of Rowan for being out of that shitty life forever, although he missed him. Gavriel had proven to be excellent at the job of captain, but truth was… he missed Rowan as his second. Maybe he should retire too. He had given the airforce twenty four years of his life. Perhaps it was time…

He was abruptly taken away from his thoughts when he heard the frantic voices of his men. Two of his squadrons were in a tight fight. He could see them on the tactical screen surrounded “Gav, spread out, you have two more bandits inbound. Watch your six, man.” He shouted over the comms, while leaning on the tactical screen as if magically allowed him to be with his men.

In the background he heard the voices of his navy counterpart and they sounded busy too. Another shitty mission.

A loud groan escaped him when he noticed the icon of Connall’s fighter being surrounded “Vaughn, cover Con, he is getting pounded.”

The wing commander agreed and saw his icon veer away towards Moonbeam.

Gavriel kept giving orders to his team and he approved, but he had a much larger view of the tactical scene and his job was to direct the action of all his units. He gave some orders to his other squadrons while keeping an eye for Gavriel’s team. The two pilots they had brought in to cover for Rowan and Fenrys had been good but the team was still adjusting to them and that made him nervous. He was about to shout another order when he heard a long sound. The dreaded sound that every pilot feared. Someone had a lock on a jet but his heart sank when he saw Gavriel’s jet icon flashing red. He was about to scream at him to move away when the icon disappeared.

His world fell silent. 

He froze and just stared at the tactical screen.

Gav’s icon was gone. 

He never heard the screams from Gavriel’s team. 

His world has stopped.

“Regroup and shot dow those fucking bastard.” Vaughan’s war cry over the comms broke his stillness. Fury. Grief. Pain.

He saw his men veer back in attack formation. They were out for blood. The enemy had taken one of them and now they had to pay.

Gavriel had been a father figure to all of them. He knew that the team was now taking it hard. Probably all the pilots. He was very well known and respected. Pain. He felt pain in his chest at another loss. How many friends was now?  He had stopped counting a long time ago.

He sighed deeply and went back to the screen. He had a job to finish and to make sure he did not loose any more men.

One of the navy officers walked to him and patted his shoulder “I am sorry, Lorcan. Gavriel was a good friend to us too. His death is a huge loss for a lot of people.” Lorcan nodded but remained silent. Gods, he needed to smash something or to hug Elide and stop hurting so much.

It was a few hours later when the situation finally resolved and Lorcan ordered the squadrons to stand down and let the relief team take the patrol shift. He passed his station to his back to back and ran out of the CIC and scrambled on the flight deck to see his squadrons land. 

With his eyes he scanned the skies and finally spotted them coming back in and braced himself. He was not one for speeches. That had been Rowan or Gavriel. And now his teams only had him.

One by one all the jets landed and he walked to the ones he was looking for. Vaughan was the first one to get off his jet. The man removed his helmet and Lorcan could see pain in his eyes. The other three followed and they stopped in front of him. He could see that Connall had been crying while Vaughan was trying to fight the pain as much as he could just how he was doing.

“I did not protect him,” the admission came from Vaughan “ I was his wingman and I just…”

“You were just as surrounded and you were helping Con as well who was completely surrounded.”

“The bastard just…” he let out a ragged breath “the fucker just appeared out of nowhere. I was too far to even try and have a lock on him.”

“You all have done all you could and I am sure Gavriel is proud of all of you. I am not the best at speeches, all I can say is that this is another shitty mission and we will do our best to honour his memory and go back home safe.”

They all agreed in silence “Now stand down and rest, grieve, have lunch. I will discuss a few things with the captain.”

His men left and Lorcan sighed. Gods he was the worst at speeches. They needed support and he offered very little.

He walked away from the flight deck and ran for the gym. Smashing a punching bag for a few hours should help him release the anger he felt. Then once his head was clear he would call Rowan. He had failed him and he was actually terrified of breaking the news to him.

A few hours later after he had directed all his anger at gym equipment and then showered he walked to vulture’s row and took the courage to call Rowan.

Present time

Rowan answered the phone and at Lorcan’s voice he moved out of the common room and into the apparatus floor and sat on the bumper of the engine.

“What happened?”

Lorcan was silent and Rowan worried even more.

“I hate the airforce, I hate this fucking mission, I hate my job and my life just now.”

Uh oh… thought Rowan, this was not like Lorcan. What the hell was going on?

“Lor, what is going on?”

“I did my best Rowan. I tried and I fucking failed.”

Was his friend sobbing? Was Lorcan Salvaterre crying?

“Lorcan, you are worrying me.”

Another long pause “Gavriel is dead.”

Rowan froze. No. It was a lie. His friend could not be dead. there had to be a mistake. He could not accept a world without his kind friend. No. “You take it back. You take back what you just said.” He was the one who was crying now.

Aelin decided to enter the apparatus floor in that instant and looked at him with worry but he ignored her.

“Lor…”

“It was a fucking mess. They were all surrounded. He was fighting off some enemies when according to Vaughn one sneaked up on him. I had told him to watch his six. He just came out of nowhere…”

“He had a wingman, Lorcan. Where the fuck was he?” Rowan struggled to contain his anger.

“Vaughn was helping Con who was in an even worse situation. He was too far for a shot.”

Rowan ran a hand through his hair and breathed out to calm his screaming soul. Another death. Another friend gone and this time it hurt like hell. For so, so many reasons.

“How are the guys taking it?”

“I wish you were here. I can’t do speeches and I don’t know how to comfort them. They are taking it badly.”

“I need to tell Aedion.”

“Why?”

Rowan paused and finally looked at Aelin who was staring at him with intensity “Gav was his father.”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck and super fuck.”

“Let me deal with this, Lor.”

The man on the other side of the phone sighed “I am asking the captain to let us perform a memorial with missing man formation for him. He was loved by a lot of people.”

“Good.”

“You should be here to honour him too. You should be the jet to peel away from formation.” Rowan could hear the deep grief in Lorcan’s voice.

“I am sure you will give him the honour he needs.”

They chatted a bit longer then Lorcan told him he was going to try and rest and call Elide.

Rowan closed the call and stared for a long moment at the phone in his shaking hands. When he lifted his head he saw Aelin looking at him with puffy eyes “No…” she whispered while shaking her head.

“I am sorry…” he felt tears again and his pain resonated with hers.

“Damn it, no!” She finally shouted “that fucking job. It’s so unfair. He just found Aedion… and now…” Aelin paused and Rowan pulled her to him and they cried in silence in each others arms.

“We need to tell Aedion. I was Gav’s emergency contact and no one knew Aedion is his son. I have to tell him.” He was about to stand but Aelin grabbed his hand “We are all going.” 

The team saw the couple back in and was curious by their faces.

Aelin looked at Rowan and nodded.

Rowan relaxed and looked at everyone “I have just received a soul destroying call from Lorcan.”

Elide’s head turned to him quickly with pleading eyes.

“As of a few hours ago, Gavriel passed away in combat. Lorcan just told me.”

Lysandra shouted and Aelin ran to her. She loved her father in law.

“There is a colleague of yours who will soon need your support. Aedion was Gavriel’s son.”

Shock ran through the group.

“We haven’t told anyone because Aedion asked us to.” explained Aelin, while holding a sobbing Lys, then she turned to Ilias “Captain, you are in charge today, but can I ask permission to drop by to south station? Aedion needs to know and I want all of us to be there for him.”

“Of course. Just all grab your bunker gear and let’s go an be close to a friend in such a dark moment.”

Aelin thanked Ilias for understanding.

Rowan was about to go to his car but Aelin dragged him to the engine. Ilias took her spot in the passenger seat and they sat at the back with the others.

“I am worried how Fen is going to take it.”

Rowan was scared too.

Aedion was running drills on the apron when he spotted two familiar vehicles park at the side. Why was east team there?

Aelin was the first one to get off in her paramedic uniform, then slowly all the east team.

The whole of south station joined its captain.

Rowan was there too and their faces were dark. Did something happened? He then spotted Lysandra and saw his wife crying hard in Elide’s arms.

“Aelin…”

Rowan was the one who walked slowly to him “Aedion…I had a call from Lorcan. Something happened on the mission.”

Aedion’s heart started to race and he dreaded the news.

“Aedion… your father has been killed in action.”

Aedion stopped. He looked at Aelin, at Rowan and at his heartbroken wife and could not speak, or function or even think. They had finally started to build something together. To have a lot of dinners together. He had decided that it was finally the time to call him father and now…

“How…” he asked quietly, while his body shook.

“While doing his job. While fighting hard to keep his team safe.”

“I… I…” he turned and stomped away. Lys was about to follow but Rowan stopped her. Just for a moment he had to speak with him. He had been there countless times. Gavriel was his friend and although his pain could not compare to Aedion’s he had to go first.

“Lys, let me talk to him for a minute.”

The woman nodded and Aelin joined in the hug.

Rowan found Aedion in the equipment room. After spending a long time among firefighter he had learned that it was their favourite hiding spot.

Aedion was sitting on a bench staring blankly at the space in front of him. Rowan sat at his side.

“Is this karma punishing me? For fighting him at the beginning? For not calling him father from the beginning? For being mad at him?” His voice was broken and Rowan saw tears streak down his cheeks.

“No, it’s just the airforce and fucking military life,” added Rowan in a growl. He knew Aedion would understand his feeling. He was ex military after all.

“I lost so many friends in the name of duty and all that shit. I would have never thought I would loose my father.”

Rowan took his hand “Your father was an amazing man. He had been kind to me from the start,” he closed his eyes and started to talk “He was senior to me, but when I made captain he told me that he had been the one to suggest my name to Lorcan. Gavriel was supportive to all of us, a father figure to all of us youngsters,” he chuckled at the memory “He was loved and respected in the navy too. No one would ever make jokes about him being a pilot. That was how he was held in high regard.”

“I never told him I loved him or called him father.”

“I am sure he knew that.” He patted Aedion’s shoulder “do you want me to call Lys?’

Aedion nodded and when Rowan stood he took his hand “go to Fen too. This might hurt him and bring back his PTSD. He is a great firefighter, don’t let him screw this up, please.”

“Never. Gavriel and Aelin would kill me.”

He walked away and got back to the team and saw that Fen was nowhere in sight. Bad sign. 

“Aelin where is Fen?”

“Ansel is with him. I am scared, Ro. I am afraid for him.”

He walked around the unfamiliar station until he heard the young man’s screams and followed. They were in the gym and Fen was lashing on the punching bag while tears ran down his face. He nodded to Ansel and the woman left.

“Fen…”

“Screw the fucking airforce!” He shouted, while landing another powerful punch. Rowan grabbed the bag and stilled it for him “let it go… let it all out.”

“I am so damn tired of losing people I care about. Of all the people…” another series of hard punches and Rowan let him vent until the young man collapsed on his knees on the mat. Rowan slowly sat down. Crouching was still too hard for him.

“He was a mentor… a father figure and even after I fucked up he eventually supported and helped me. He did not deserve to be shot down.”

“Fen, this is a lot. I need you to promise me you will let us help you. No more spiralling or booze. You have south team, me, Aelin, Ansel and east team too. And when Con comes back he will need you too.”

Fenrys nodded “I know, I am healed enough that now I know how to deal with this. It hurts, but now I know how to cope with my demons now.”

Rowan relaxed “That is good, boyo.”

Fen chuckled “Gav used to call me boyo all the time.”

“Shall we rejoin the others?”

Fen nodded and together they joined the two teams.

Lys was still with Aedion and Aelin was standing alone in a corner and walked to her and enveloped her in a hug.

“Ro, how are you feeling?”

“It hurts…” was all he said and he felt her arms tighten around his midriff.

When Ilias radio went off he called his team into action. Aelin kissed Rowan “I am sorry, I need to go.”

He kissed her and nodded “Go, I’ll take a taxi to east and then go home.

Aelin looked at him worried “I am fine.” She was not sure but still left. East team disappeared and he was left at south station.

Fen was talking to one of his colleagues and seemed fine. He really hoped so. 

A moment later Aedion appeared on the apparatus floor and his team stood and enveloped him in a tight hug.

Rowan followed that scene with interest. Firehouses became families. He had seen that at east. They would all support each other, fuss and worry. Gods, they had even included him in that extended family. And to see them now stepping up to support their captain was a heart warming scene. Aedion needed that right now.

He looked up and spotted him. His blue eyes met his and then took a step towards him “They left you stranded here?”

“They had a call.”

“Let me take you back to east.”

“I can take a taxi,” protested Rowan, but soon realised that stubbornness was a family trait.

Aedion went to talk to his second and came back a moment later with his bunker gear and a radio “I’ll drive you with the pickup.”

Rowan thanked him and followed the man. He had forgotten his cane at east and his leg was protesting a bit.

“I spoke to Fen and I think he is okay. He is in a better place mentally.”

Aedion sighed “Thank you.”

“You need support too. This is a lot. You should take time off to grieve and deal with the loss.”

Aedion shook his blonde hair “I am like Aelin. Working will keep me busy. Lys will play mama hen and my entire station will too.” 

“If you need to talk… I am here. From a former military man to another. This might stir… memories.”

At the traffic lights Aedion sighed deeply “I know.” The he turned to Rowan “let Aelin look after you as well. This will trigger memories for you as well. Your last bad mission was only eight months back.”

Rowan nodded.

An hour later he was back at home after Aedion had driven him to the station. He took a shower, changed in house clothes and lay down on the bed with bird Rowan in his arms and let the grief take over. Let the tears flow in full force until he was spent. He was so tired of death, of saying goodbye to friends. With his hand he brushed his pec where his tattoo was. Those were only a few names, the important ones. In thirteen years he had lost so many people that he would need his entire chest to write all their names. But Gavriel… that loss stung so hard. Rowan squeezed the toy and felt like an invisible hand had a grip on his heart and squeezed hard.

Gods, he needed Aelin. He sat in bed and felt the telltales of a panic attack coming. Rowan tried to calm his breathing down but he couldn’t and his tears became full on sobs while he still frantically tried to get air into his lungs. 

Memories rushed to him, hitting him hard and felt sick all of a sudden. He jumped out of the bed and ran to the bathroom and emptied his stomach until there was nothing left. Spent, he sat against the wall, his head lolled against the cold wall while at the same he tried to regain some level of sanity. To recall the coldness and detachment the military had taught him. Nothing worked. Emotions hit him like a sledgehammer and the sense of suffocation came back. Rowan had no idea how long he sat on the cold floor staring into the void but when he did manage to feel sanity come back he stood and went to the sink to washed his face and mouth. Staring at his reflection in the mirror he noticed the light had gone from his eyes. The spark that Aelin had brought back in him had vanished and he felt like a shell. As if the last piece of his battered soul had finally left him.

Rowan walked back to bed and tried to rest but was scared of closing his eyes. Terrified of the nightmares that would wait for him in the shadows. So he did the only healthy thing he could do. He called Aelin.

“Ro?”

He was silent for a moment “Aelin, can I come back to the station? I am scared of being alone tonight. I can’t…” he forced tears back down “I am terrified I’d do something stupid.”

For a split second he had considered going to the pub and just drown his pain in alcohol until he was too far gone to even remember. But he couldn’t do that to Aelin. If he went down that road it would have him on the path to destruction and she did not deserve that. 

Aelin only said “Yes, Ro. Come here, please.”

He got off the bed and prepared a duffel bag with some clothes and his books. He had paramedic school the following day. Maybe that would pull him out of his bad thoughts.

Half an hour later he was at the station and Aelin was waiting for him on the apron. She ran to him and he hugged her tightly as if she was the tether that kept him afloat.

“I am here. We’ll do this together.”

Rowan nodded and followed her in.

“Captain! Back already? Can’t stay away from her, eh?”

Aelin glared at Ress and the man shut up quickly.

She had explained the situation to Ilias and asked if she could use the captain’s quarters for the night and the man had agreed.

In her quarters Rowan sat on her bed and looked up at her “I am sorry, it’s just… I had a panic attack at home,” he confessed quietly, looking away “I… am afraid…”

She did not ask him what he was afraid of. He would tell him if he wanted. But the memory of the night he came back after fuzzy’s death was etched in her mind and she had an inkling of what he meant.

She sat at his side and brushed his hair “You have done the right thing by coming here. You can stay in my quarters. You do not need to get out. I’ll even bring dinner here.”

He shook his head but she protested “I need to be here right now. My team will understand.”

“Thanks,” he added quietly “I can’t… I can’t deal with people tonight.”

She kissed him “let me go and have a chat with the team.”

A moment after Aelin had left, his phone rang and did not recognise the number so he answered and he learned that on the other line it was one of the pilots they had taken in to replace him and Fen.

“Captain, the commodore asked me to call you and show you this live.”

The man panned the camera and showed him the flight deck filled with people in dress mess uniforms “It’s for the captain, sir. The commodore can’t be here because he is flying.”

Rowan’s heart clenched. In that instant Aelin came back in and indicated her to sit down and she started watching the livestream as well. He saw Lucas, his friend and captain of the carrier take the stage and started talking about Gavriel. How the man had touched a lot of lives and the fact that he was a dear friend to many navy people too. After his speech finished, he heard the sound of engines spooling and the lieutenant turned the camera and Rowan saw the four jets lined up on the take off slip. They took off and kept a low altitude. The whole point was to be seen. They reached a point ahead of the carrier and veered back assuming a perfect V shape position. Rowan’s free hand grabbed Aelin’s. He had done that far too many times. He was surprised to see Lorcan fly the position that was meant to peel off. That had been his for a long time.

As they flew over the ship, Lorcan peeled away from the formation, leaving a hole. Again the lieutenant moved the camera and Rowan saw airforce and navy men alike looking up and offering their salute. And once more tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Thank you lieutenant. Can I as you a favour? If you have recorded the video could you send it to me? There are two people back home who need to see that.”

“Of course sir.” The young man saluted and closed the call. 

“Was that the missing man formation?”

Rowan nodded “It had always been me the one peeling away from formation,” he told her very quietly and then buried his head in the crook of her neck. Aelin pulled him closer.

“Without you… I think I would have ended up drinking until I could not remember my name. I would have gone down a dangerous path. You are the only reason why I stopped myself.” He admitted, and Aelin grabbed his face in her hands “How can I help you, Rowan?” Gently she brushed his long hair away from his face. His green eyes were dull and the grief made the lines of his face even harsher. Her heart broke for him, for Aedion and Lys. She was sad about Gavriel but her interactions with him had been short. She liked the man and he had been her uncle after all. It hurt, but her level of grief was nowhere close to what they were feeling.

“I just need your support.”

Aelin kissed him “of course, Rowan, all you need. I am here,” another kiss “I can even ask Dorian to let you stay here the nights I am on shift.” She was scared and would make sure to do all she could so that he wouldn’t spiral down a dark path.

“No… that would be too much. Tonight is still fresh and I need company. Then you are home tomorrow and the following day. I will be okay.”

Aelin did not believe him but pretended to. She had experienced in first person that attitude. The false “I will be fine,” when in reality nothing was fine. She was not letting that happen to Rowan.

Through the door, Brullo’s voice announced her that dinner was ready.

A quick kiss to Rowan “Let me grab our food.”

While Aelin was away he sent a text to Aedion This is for your father. I thought you’d appreciate the honour and respect he received. Lorcan was the one who peeled off from formation. He is taking it just as badly.

Then he sent the video to Fen as well I hope you are fine. The ceremony happened half and hour ago. Lorcan flew missing man. If you want to talk I am here.

Aelin returned and they sat in bed and she passed him one plate with food. Rowan thanked her and took a few bites.

He was silent while he ate and Aelin respected that, having a feeling that Rowan was not in the mood for talking.

Internally she cursed fate and all that stuff. Rowan deserved some peace. She wanted him to start heal again. He had a terrible year and just when she thought he was finally on the way to recovery, life threw him another curveball. She was furious and silently prayed Mala to look after him.  She was tired of pain and tears. They all deserved a break.

*

It was the middle of the night when dispatch alarm went off. Rowan woke abruptly and felt Aelin leave the bed in a rush. He looked around the room confused and frantically stood and then collapsed on his knees as memories started flashing back.

Red lights flashing in his quarters, the shrieking alarm of battle station. The sound of the ship being bombed. The sound of missiles flying past him and the dreadful alarm of a plane having a lock on him. He scrambled to the bathroom and reached the toilet and heaved. After he was done he sat at its side trembling and sweating while slowly tried to calm down his racing heart. Even eight months  later those memories had the power to destroy him and now with Gavriel’s death…

His stomach heaved once more and started sobbing in desperation. He was a mess and was taking Aelin with him and for a second he thought about leaving. She did not deserve to have to deal with his messed up self.

Gently he touched his pec where the tattoo with their names was. No he was not a coward. No, Aelin was his key to sanity and happiness. Slowly he tried to stand but his knee complained, too much for one day. Grabbing the sides of the toilet seat he pulled himself up in a powerful move, but as soon as he put weight on the bad leg he crashed back down. A savage roar of frustration resonated in the empty fire house.

Once he calmed down he dragged his sorry arse in the shower and opened the cold jet and sat there under the water.

And that’s where Brullo found him.

“Captain?”

Rowan turned his head to the voice but remained silent.

Brullo ran away and came back a moment later with Aelin.

The woman quickly closed the water and nodded to Brullo and the others to leave her alone.

Rowan’s stare was distant and dark and she feared the worst.

“Ro…” she brushed his face gently “What happened?”

He looked away.

“Come on let’s get you out of here and into dry clothes.”

He pulled away from her “Leave me… Get the hell away from me” he snarled, “You do not deserve to deal with my mess.”

“No.”

His head turned with a brisk movement and she saw rage in his eyes “Why do you bother with me?” He shouted “I will just ruin your life. I am not worth it.”

Aelin felt anger. But not at him. No, at herself for having missed how bad he was. Rowan had been a master at hiding his pain but now with what happened to Gavriel it seemed that the dam had broken and Rowan had plunged into his own personal hell.

She grabbed his face “the hell I am leaving you. To whatever end, remember? So now you get your arse out of this shower, get changed and we talk and you better stop hiding things from me.”

Rowan was taken aback. In his confused state, he was expecting her to agree to leave him. That’s what Lyria had done after all. Tired of dealing with his absences, his depression and PTSD after coming back from deployment. So why would Aelin care? He deserved to be alone.

Aelin pulled him up and pushed him on the bench “sit and shut up.”

Furious she stomped out of the bathroom and looked at her team “I am sorry. Give me five minutes and the bathroom will be free.” The guys needed to clean up after the fire.

“How’s Rowan?” Asked Brullo who was the one who had seen him first.

“I am working on him.”

Aelin quickly grabbed a fresh towel and some dry clothes, then went back and started changing him and drying him. All the while Rowan had been silent and his blank stare fixed on the wall.

She went to toss his wet clothes in the dryer and then pulled his arm around her shoulder and together they walked back to her quarters.

He sat on the bed “Why? Why are you doing all this?”

The resignation in his voice was like a stake through her heart.

Aelin crouched in front of him and grabbed his face gently and forced him to look at her “because I love you, you idiot. You are in pain and I am here.”

He looked away again.

“What happened, Rowan?”

She saw his hand ball up in fists “Dispatch alarm,” he finally said quietly “The bombs, the screeching of the carrier, the air raids and the planes attacking us and…” she saw him shaking and all she wanted to do was to hug him, but Rowan had to let it all out “He almost killed me…” his voice a deep growl “that bastard almost shot me down and I never felt more terrified in my life. I almost died trapped on the ship and then in my own jet. And all I could think was that I had almost failed you…” his body was wrecked by his shaking “It came all back tonight. All the deaths of that night and…” she finally wound her arms around him.

“Why you never told me how bad it was?”

He was still stiff in her arms “I thought I had it under control. It had not been bad until tonight.”

She kissed him gently “you should talk to someone. Fen went to the association that helps veterans and he says that it helped him a lot.”

Rowan was silent “you always have me, but I was not in the military. You need to have help from someone who specialise in this kind of trauma. Please.”

Rowan looked up at her “don’t leave me, please” the pain in his voice was a dagger in her heart “I was an asshole back there but I did not mean it.”

Aelin sobbed, seeing her wonderful man in that state was a far too painful “Never. I will be here. I love you, buzzard.”

Rowan leaned his forehead against hers “Thank you for being in my life.”

Aelin kissed him again and then convinced him to sleep. She sat at his side and while with one hand she brushed his hair, with the other was texting Fenrys asking for the details of the organisation where he sought help from.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @courtofjurdan​ @whimsicallyreading​ @aelin-bitch-queen​ @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity​ @acreativelydifferentlove @mis-lil-red​ @thegreyj​ @sailorsassley​ @leiawritesstories​ @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire​ @sv0430​ @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon​ @rowanaelinn​ @backtobl4ck​ @susumaus98​ @gracie-rosee​ @mybloodrunsblue​ @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah​ @whoever-you-choose-to-love​ @theywillnotsingforme​ @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water​ @goddess-aelin​

#rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #aelin galathynius #aelin x rowan #aedion ashryver #gavriel #rowaelin fanfic #angst #hurt/comfort #throne of glass fic #throne of glass fanfiction

[freudianslumber]

Tiger Man

Summary:  The year was 1941, bandmates and secret lovers Scotty Moore and Elvis Presley got caught red handed by Scotty’s fiancée, and this led to the young men being thrusted headlong into the China-Burma-India theater of World War II as members of the first American Volunteer Group (The Flying Tigers). 

Chapter 2. Flying Tigers

Pairing: Scotty Moore x Elvis Presley (m/m)

Word count: 2.9k

Warning: brief mentions of sex and intimacy. 

One week later, Blue Moon Boys completed their last gig in their hometown. No one suspected this was going to be farewell until Elvis made the shock announcement towards the end that they were going to disband because both he and Scotty had decided to become volunteer fighter pilots and would be shipped off to Asia to help local government and people fight against Japanese invasion in a few months. Sights and sounds of disbelief, objection and despondency immediately engulfed the venue. Some of the teen fans appeared to be shell-shocked or in denial, others began crying, or shouting “Why??” and “Don’t leave us”. Amidst all the chaos, the band launched into a rousing rendition of “America the Beautiful” and partially ameliorated the situation with a sense of shared patriotism. Then Scotty took the stand and made an impassioned little speech about “fighting against fascism” and “American duty to aid our allies and protect the free world”. The eloquence and persuasiveness hearkened back to his days of student leadership at Humes. This finally calmed the crowd enough to let Elvis end the show with the Civil War era marching song of “Yellow Rose of Texas” without any major incidence.

It took ages before the band made it through the mob of emotional fan girls and no-less-devoted fan boys after the show. As usual Elvis drew the brunt of the assault, bearing evidence of intrusive or even injurious affection such as smeared lipsticks and scattered scratch marks. Half of his shirt and one leg of his pants had been torn off of him, no doubt serving as parting souvenirs for some fans. Elvis casually took off the tattered clothes once he reached the backstage dressing room, changing into a set of more presentable outfit. Scotty and Elvis were the last two left backstage after they bid goodbye to the other half of the band: bassist Bill Black and drummer D.J. Fontana.

“How did it go over with everyone at home?” Elvis asked cautiously, bracing for the answer from the guitarist. “It was pandemonium,” Scotty cracked dryly. “MaryAnn wasted no time in spilling the beans. She was hoping to get my folks to change my mind. She was dead wrong. I had a big argument with Daddy, and he disowned me, saying I disgusted him and he never wanted to see my face again. Mama thought I was sick in the head for foolin’ with a man and then throwin’ myself into war, but eventually came out of hysteria and slipped me some money behind Daddy’s back.” Elvis took in a small breath, guilt written all over his baby blues: “I’m so sorry, Scotty. I wish it didn’t have to be that way. I bet now you wish we’d never met…” This was quickly met with disapproval from his boyfriend: “Come on, honey. Stop all the depressing talk. There ain’t nothing wrong with following our hearts. I bet one day they’ll come around to our way of thinking.”

“I hope so, Scotty.” Elvis’ voice wavered a little in reply: “Mama slapped me straight across the face when I told her about us and about going off to war in Asia. She kept quoting the bible and talking about sinning. Then she drank and cried non-stop for days, convinced that I’ll get myself killed and she’ll lose her only son. All the while Daddy just kept sighing and smoking the whole time.” Elvis looked down and fidgeted with his own hands.

Scotty took that pair of slender hands into his own firm and steady ones, brought them up to his lips. The young singer’s cerulean eyes followed the movement upward and got caught in Scotty’s line of sight. “Elvis, don’t worry, I’ve got your back. A boy will need to strike out on his own to become a real man. Your mama knows that, believe me. She just needs time to adjust to the idea.” Scotty kissed the younger man’s knuckles and spoke with a calmness and composure that went well beyond his years. Elvis was reminded of why he loved and adored this man so much in the first place. His mood lifted considerably as Scotty changed the topic: “now how do ya like the idea of becoming a fighter pilot?” “I can’t believe it but I love it!” Elvis could scarcely contain his excitement, “it sure as hell beats driving a truck for a living!”

“Have you ever flown a plane before?” Scotty inquired although he was pretty sure he already knew the answer. “’Course not, unless that one time sitting in the co-pilot seat of a crop duster owned by D.J.’s uncle counts!” The Naval aviator chuckled a little at Elvis’ silly answer: “Unfortunately no. You definitely need to have some flying experience before going overseas and get real fighter pilot training. One of my buddies in the Navy Air Corps is running a commercial flight school. He agrees to give you a crash course on the basics of flying so you won’t be throwing into the deep end with zero experience.”

“Scotty, you are so amazing! I can’t thank you enough! Ever since we met way back you’ve always had a solution for everything!” Elvis’ face lit up with sincere reverence and adoration. “I swear I won’t let you down!”

Scotty smiled at that, then ran a hand through the silky mane of golden chestnut hair and joked: “I’ll sure be missing this though, you know you’ll have to get a military style cut soon, right?” Elvis shrugged it off: “Mama won’t like it, ‘cause she always preferred my hair long. I don’t mind a bit though. Oh, I know a good barber, wanna go together?”

That night Elvis lost his virginity to Scotty in that cramped run-down dressing room. Both of them knew they might never get to make love in the midst of a war, so they had better take whatever chance they got now. Scotty was by turns tender and rough with his younger partner, taking him over the vanity in front of the mirror and then on the sofa. Elvis was too overwhelmed and in love to remember the details, but he did remember feeling like he could die happy after this. Scotty conquered every inch of his body, chased away all his doubts and fears, and left him drifting contently into dreamland.

The next couple of months flew by fast as Elvis worked hard to rapidly assimilate the fundamentals of flying a plane. He made great progress considering the circumstances, being an intuitive and fast learner. The pair officially joined the second squadron of the American Volunteer Group, a fighter pilot unit of volunteers who would be officially trained at a British airfield in Burma. The entire group was nick-named “The Flying Tigers” and their eventual mission would be to help defend the Republic of China against the imperial expansion of Japan. There was hardly any doubt that they would see real battle in the not-so-distant future. Elvis was one of the youngest members recruited. He tried his best to play down the danger involved but he couldn’t fool his Mama, Gladys. It broke Elvis’ heart that she was drowning in sorrow, resigned to the fate that she would lose her only son over faraway lands, fighting a war she could not comprehend. The deepening dark circles around her eyes, along with generalized swelling and weakness, presented ominous signs for her overall health.

Elvis spent a great deal of time trying to cheer Gladys up and reassuring her he would write frequently from abroad. He stressed to her the contract for Flying Tigers was just for one year initially, and that the pay he would receive as a pilot was going to be a lot better than regular new recruits because of the special international volunteer nature of the group. He spoke excitedly to her about upcoming fighter pilot training and envisioned heroic exploits in future air battles. The adventurer part of him wondered about the mystic Orient, the people and culture he would encounter and learn about there. However, sadness never quite cleared from Gladys’ big brown eyes even on the day of final departure. A quiet air of resignation settled over her countenance, knowing that there was no more she could do other than prayers. No matter how much she wanted to tell herself otherwise, this felt like a farewell rather than a goodbye, the cruel fate had snatched her baby boy from her. Gladys could still feel his boy’s last kiss on her forehead as the bus carrying him slowly pulled away out of sight, her tears obscured her vision as her husband tried in vain to calm her and pull her out of the sense of utter loss.

For the rest of the year, the Flying Tigers trained at the Royal Air Force base located near Taungoo, Burma. It was clear from day one that Elvis wasn’t the only one who exaggerated his previous flying credentials. Some served in the military but barely flew in the past. These were not the experienced fighter pilots the organizers of the group had expected. Fortunately, the Japanese army front was still quite far away from them, so the new recruits were all given some slack because it took uncommon courage to put their lives on the line to fight for the welfare of a foreign country. More importantly, it appeared that they had some time to train and become combat ready.

Initially everyone studied basic mechanics, plane operation and air battle strategy on paper in the “schoolhouse” that was set up on the base. Then one thrilling day a month or two later their newly assembled and tested fighter aircrafts arrived. These Curtiss P-40 Warhawks looked both beautiful and menacing with shark face nose art painted to their fronts. The first time Elvis climbed into the cockpit of his fighter jet felt like a religious experience to him. The fighter had only one seat, so when it was in the air, Elvis felt he was on his own and in charge of his own destiny. That empowering feeling fed into the thrill-seeker side of the young man’s personality. Scotty was gratified to see Elvis excel in his training runs, more than making up for his lack of experience with motivation and perseverance. The duo was well-liked in the squadron, as more than half of the pilots came from the South and the musical performance of half of the Blue Moon Boys provided great entertainment for everyone in their spare time. Their respective call signs came naturally as well: “Memphis Flash” and “Guitar Slinger”.

Elvis wrote weekly to his parents, providing running accounts on his life as a fighter pilot in training. His enthusiasm and high spirit came across easily in these letters. Replies were few and far between, though. A month or two would pass before Elvis would receive a brief letter from his cousin Gene Smith, updating him about things at home. Elvis understood because his Mama and Daddy never had much schooling, it would be difficult for them to write back. However, Elvis sensed that the wording of Cousin Gene in these letters seemed generalized and vague, something was amiss. Prolonged delays and interruptions of communication by mail prevented him from investigating further into the situation. Scotty tried his best to put Elvis’ mind off of worries about his Mama, reminding him the best thing he could do for her would be to take care of himself and stay safe.

Being a British colony for almost a century, Burma was westernized in many ways. Still there was plenty of local culture to explore for the American pilots. On weekends Scotty and Elvis would venture off base to the nearby city of Taungoo, guided by a few friends in the Royal Air Force who had been stationed in the area a lot longer. This offered opportunities for the Memphis pair to sample the flavorful Burmese cuisine such as noodles and curry, and marvel at the intricate architecture of ancient Buddhist temples and monasteries. On rare occasions, they were able to sneak away from the rest and check into an out-of-way hotel for some precious moments of intimacy. As Scotty watched the perfect Adonis lie inches away from him in peaceful sleep, he could no longer imagine life without Elvis. There was no secret between the two of them. Each served as the anchor for the other in a sea of uncertainty and turmoil. They were not just lovers but soul mates.

The calm before the storm came to an end as Christmas approached. The Japanese attack of Pearl Harbor directly pushed the U.S. into the World War. Only days after the country declared war on the Empire of Japan, the latter launched attacks on the Burma Road which was the main route for Western allies to transport supplies and equipment to the Chinese army and the Chinese wartime capital of Chongqing. This was when the Flying Tigers saw actual combat for the first time because their current mission was to protect the Burma Road and keep it open. Scotty and Elvis and the rest of the second squadron were quickly deployed from Burma to an air base in the southwest Chinese city of Kunming which was one terminus of the supply route. Less than one week before Christmas, everyone was woken up with loud air-raid sirens just before dawn. The two former Blue Moon Boys jumped out of their double bunk beds, threw on their pilot uniform, complete with boots, cap and goggles, ran over to the hangar to join other pilots there. They were immediately briefed by their commander, seasoned Air Force veteran and air corps instructor, Chennault. Affectionately nick named “The Old Man”, Chennault informed them that alarm stations from the south had spotted ten Japanese “Lily” bombers heading in the direction of the city proper of Kunming. As in past raids, the bombers took off from an airfield in French Indochina, but this time there was no fighter escorts. It was possible that the enemy was so far unaware of the presence of Flying Tigers units here, so this would be a great opportunity to give them a surprise attack.

The Old Man then handpicked ten pilots for this first mission. The combat strategy he preached had always been to attack and coordinate in pairs, it was no surprise that the two Tennesseans won the lotto since they had proven themselves to be a high performing pair in training.

Adrenaline was running high as Elvis jumped into his p-40 jet. “This is it!! Everything I learned over the greater part of the year would be put to use this time. It’s do or die!” He told himself while he took off from the runway along with the rest of the group. Due to cost constraints, the p-40’s they flew did not come with built-in radios, so a flimsy portable radio transceiver would have to do. The shark-teethed fighter group glided in formation through the twilight towards the south-east suburb of Kunming. They were intentionally flying at the high altitude of around 14,000 feet to ensure their superior vantage point whenever the enemy encounter occurred.

Suddenly the intercom went off: “Memphis Flash, this is Guitar Slinger. Targets spotted Starboard at 10,000 feet.” Elvis looked down and sure enough found a group of Japanese bombers at medium distance, “copy, Guitar Slinger, this is Memphis Flash, targets identified. Proceed as plan, dive and zoom time.” Reply came quickly, “copy, this is Guitar Slinger. Slashing down for the tail end. Follow me!” At the sound of that, Elvis found Scotty’s plane began to dive down rapidly ahead of him. He knew Scotty would try to take down the bomber at the back of the enemy formation. Other pairs of p-40s had started doing their well-practiced coordinated dive and zoom attacks as well. He could see Scotty had intercepted the target bomber precisely and hit one wing of the aircraft with the pair of heavy machine guns on the nose of his fighter jet. Elvis immediately dove down himself at max speed just as the Lily bomber tried to maneuver around to counterattack with its own guns. Scotty got out of the way before the enemy had a chance to aim at him, following Chenault’s doctrine of “no dog fights”. Elvis did even more damage as he blasted his double nose guns, hitting the engine of the bomber, causing it to tumble and lose altitude. Elvis’ mind screamed “Score!” but resisted the urge to chase after the faltering plane since he knew Scotty would finish the job. Just as he expected, his guitar slinger made a perfect slashing move through the air and doomed the target with intense close-range gunfire aimed at the cockpit, leading to a fire. Black smoke went off from the battered bomber as it spiraled out of control. The pilot barely parachuted before the aircraft exploded in the air.

All around Elvis and his jet, Japanese bombers were being targeted, pursued and punished, it was clear which way this battle was going. Several Lilys were shot down while the rest dropped their bombs hastily onto the countryside beneath and fled. Only one of the p-40s sustained significant damage but the pilot only had minor injury after crash landing. This would be the first victory the Tigers scored against the Imperial Japanese Air Force which had been used to dominance over the Chinese airspace for years due to its superior equipment and better trained personnel. It certainly wouldn’t be the last.

#Elvis Presley #Scotty Moore #Elvis fan fic #m/m #World War II AU #Flying Tigers #China-Burma-India theater

[faggotmox]

not a horny one but here is the top of the iceberg of my trans eddie kingston brainrot headcanons

i think he wanders the locker room naked and would get in someones face if they looked at him funny

i think mox calls him sugartits in a funny but affectionate way its a private joke for them

i think he is very boldly open in showing that he is trans but doesnt like to actually talk about it, sort of aggressively like "this is me this is my body what u gonna do about it HUH"

i think he is really sweet but kind of gruff to young queer fans bc he's like "glad u have a role model but i am literally just some guy" and everyone loves him more for that

NOO NO THIS IS SO GOOD.

i love this so much because like i hc trans!eddie so fucking different but all the things you said make so much fucking sense.

the idea that eddie is, excuse the phrasing here, dick out in the lockeroom just daring people to say some shit, just ready to snap. like yas king yes. how many fights have started bc of this? i love an aggressive boy!!! i love that Eddie would just be so unshamed & unhiding of his body.

for me eddie would be the dude to get like the over the top sized packer & strut around the lockeroom in a jock strape. just dick swinging like that. which is a similar but different energy.

MOX CALLING EDDIE SUGARTITS. IM...TOTALLY FINE ABOUT THAT. THATS NORMAL.

no that'd be so fucking cute & funny. mox really likes eddies chest. eddie wouldn't even care, like he'd care in the play along with the bit but he honestly would love that. he'd like call mox an ironing board or something. "at least i got something going on, tiny nips." no one else gets it at all.

. . .

eddie being like aggressively out but also not really like talk about it is so *chefs kiss* in character. its like when he shouts abt taking zoloft? then later will drop some super heavy shit in a promo abt being depressed? eddie just doesn't know how to articulate it. he just drops random little bits abt being trans then cuts a gut wrenching promo every so often about it, about why it makes him a better fighter & how he came up. we stan!!! we stan an aggressively out king!!!

in my story i wrote about trans eddie & mox he's so fucking stealth. like so stealth he may as well be packed away in the attic with the fucking broken christmas lights. mox is the first person he tells & he's like 40. eddie would either be aggressively in the closet or aggressively out of the closet. for me in my stories even tho eddie thinks of himself as just stealth he really is closeted, he has to think about it that way to get by.

eddie would wanna be like there for the queer fans but he just don't get it? he's just some fucked up dude. no one should be thanking him but they do. it takes awhile before he like accepts that people see him like that. someone has to kinda explain that the reason these young queers are so drawn to him is bc they don't got anyone else. eddie starting to realize he wants to be the person that kid him could have looked up to.

in my dumb little story im working knthere's a chapter of the fall out after mox & eddie get married bc like no one knew aews top stars were boning or gay then eddies gonna really throw some curveballs when he breaks down in a promo & tells everyone he's trans. after that eddie gonna feel a lot better & more open.

I LOVE YOU FOR SENDING THIS. I LOVE TRANS EDDIE. FUCKING GOD, I LOVE TRANS EDDIE.

#asks

[watchinglikeafangirl]

The eclipse ep 10 4/4 - Aye freaks out

So far, Aye has kept quiet about his personal mission. Yes, it was mentioned before, he wants to know what makes Suppalo such an aweful place that it triggered his uncle's depression so severely, it led to suicide.

He keeps the notebook close and all of that, but nothing much really resulted from that personal mission. The focus was on the political motivations against the school's system but as soon as Aye sees Akk's lost face in the student's welfare department and hears teacher Chadok yelling, Aye's personal mission is initiated once again. It's no longer a political protest, it's a personal mission. He wants answers, he wants to know what happened, he wants the people to take responsibility. As I said, there is trauma passed alongside the hirachy of the school, so Aye is logically shouting at the wrong person. Chadok is not the cause, he is an excuse, a face the school board sends first as collateral damage, Dika was collateral damage. It's really painful for Aye to see that and he decides to blame Chadok because it's easier. The political protest could favour his personal mission but he freaked out as soon as he saw Akk's face and acted on rage.

Akk looked as broken as Dika. Akk felt as lost as Dika. Akk felt as misunderstood as Dika. And most importantly, Akk didn't unterstand why Chadok yelling at him would send him into a hole of numbness and overwhelmingly many emotions, just like Dika. Aye saw that look before and it frightens him. The fear of losing is so strong, he follows Chadok and yells back. Like I said, with change comes loss and Aye fears losing Akk. Fighters always have something to lose which makes the whole protesting process even more worth it.

Aye wants Chadok to take responsibility, Aye wants someone to admit to his side of the story, the one he build in his head. But Chadok won't give it to him and he is just angry at the world.

And after Chadok is gone, we have a very important moment of teacher Sani who always wanted what's best for the students. We can see her slowly but steadily falling into the same pattern, it's the same choice of words, Aye is called out for not abiding by the rules and she wants to discuss this matter another time. She is fleeing like all the other teachers. Nobody confronts anyone. And you can just taste Aye's disappointment because he thought she was actually nice and supportive.

The trauma was passed on to her.

#it works like generational trauma #just with the hirachy #the eclipse #the eclipse the series

[cyarskj52]

A Reminder for Drake and Others: Tory Lanez Is Not a Martyr

It’s disappointing, but not surprising, to see Drake advocate for Tory Lanez after being convicted of shooting Megan Thee Stallion

By Andre GeeFebruary 27, 2024

It’s disappointing, but not surprising, to see Drake advocate for Tory Lanez after being convicted of shooting Megan Thee Stallion

Drake compels the masses like a seasoned advertising director. He knows sharing something as simple as a new hairdo will strangle social media for days on end. So when he called for Tory Lanez’s freedom on his Instagram story, he knew it would garner similar visibility as activists screaming “Free Meek Mill” from the streets of Philadelphia. On Monday, Drake posted a picture of Tory and “3 You,” a version of “Free You” where the three were set to represent open handcuffs. 

“Free [Insert Person”] is standard cultural parlance in communities of color. “Free Meek” was a stand against the Philly rapper’s prolonged probation. “Free Mumia [Abu-Jamal]” is about amplifying a freedom fighter who people believe was unjustly convicted. Other times, like with “Free Bobby Shmurda,” it can be a complicated admission that even if we know someone did wrong, we understand that systemic inequality can encourage bad choices from good people, essentially creating a long-looping form of entrapment. 

You may scream “free” someone as an advocate, loved one, or an empathizer. But screaming “Free Tory Lanez,” is an asshole move. 

Popular on Rolling Stone

Last August, Tory was sentenced to 10 years in California State Prison for shooting Megan Thee Stallion in 2020. In December 2022, he was convicted of assault with a semi-automatic firearm, carrying a loaded, unregistered firearm in a vehicle, and discharging a firearm with gross negligence. 

He’s on a recorded call apologizing to Megan’s former friend Kelsey for an unknown grievance that many deduce to be Megan’s shooting. During testimony, Kelsey called the notion that she shot Megan “ridiculous.” A witness in the trial testified that he saw a “shorter man,” alleged to be Tory, firing “four to five” shots and then beating Megan as she lay bleeding in a fetal position. But despite the mountain of evidence suggesting his guilt, Drake, Chris Brown, Meek Mill, and others have since expressed solidarity with Tory. Are they saying they don’t believe Megan, or that they don’t care what happened to her?

Editor’s picks

Since that night, people treated the shooting like a soap opera or binary of fandom instead of a traumatic incident that someone should atone for. On “Cobra,” Megan rapped about dealing with depression, alcohol dependency, and suicidal ideation since being shot. Her account of that night was scrutinized by armchair sleuths, and she was relentlessly lampooned by entertainers and consumers. Tory even took part in the circus, chopping a horse leg in his “CAP” video. As I noted before about Tina and Ike Turner, hip-hop has a penchant for playing too much, perhaps because many of its progenitors are so predisposed to toxic behavior and violence that we don’t know how to take domestic violence seriously. But that dynamic almost always turns into disrespecting women survivors, and it’s no excuse for how Megan is being treated.

Drake’s had several weird dustups with women in recent years. During a recent stop on his Big As The What tour, he made a point to play “Work” with Rihanna, then tell the crowd that he doesn’t perform the song anymore. That comes after dissing her and A$AP Rocky on For All The Dogs’ “Fear of Heights.” And, more alarmingly, he’s shouted out rapper and friend Baka Not Nice, who in 2015 pled guilty to assaulting a 22-year-old woman who he was charged with forcing into sex trafficking. The woman didn’t testify in the case, so he wasn’t tried on the latter charge. While Baka was incarcerated, Drake rhymed, “I might declare it a holiday as soon as Baka get back on the road,” on 2015’s “Know Yourself.” Would women be invited to that celebration? Perhaps Drake should head to his room full of bras and reflect on whether he genuinely cares about the humanity of any of the former owners. 

It’s unclear when he and Megan, who were pictured together in 2019, first fell out. In 2022, he rapped “this bitch lie ’bout getting shots, but she still a stallion” on Her Loss’ “Circo Loco.” Last summer, he made it a point to snidely clarify “not that Meg,” while shouting out photographer MegYup during his It’s All A Blurtour. And now, after Megan may have dissed him on “Hiss” (she intentionally refrained from naming names so hit dogs could holler) he’s advocated for her attacker. 

Related

Drake isn’t the first person to speak up for Tory post-sentencing, either. Chris Brown, who assaulted Rihanna and has been accused of over 20 instances of violence (many against women), called to “Free Tory” on streamer Adin Ross’ live stream, calling Tory “a solid dude.” His morally questionable comments are unsurprising. 

Last July, Meek Mill screamed “Free Tory” while performing at Rolling Loud Portugal. He later doubled down, tweeting, “I say free young thug … free lucci … free melly I don’t even know why y’all start dealing with us if yall gone try to smear us.’ Of course, there is a layer of nuance. Anti-prison abolitionists believe that the justice system is inherently racist and should be uprooted. But even those progressives didn’t feel much sorrow when Tory was convicted because of his conduct and arrogance throughout the leadup to the trial. Restorative justice advocates believe there can be a world where people who commit violence can take accountability, and apologize to the person they hurt, and everyone can heal without the need for incarceration. 

There is a belief that the modern justice system, which essentially requires a suspect to deny their guilt, doesn’t help a survivor heal, and the dehumanizing conditions of prison certainly aren’t a rehabilitative environment for violators. Some abolitionists may believe that Tory shouldn’t be incarcerated because prisons shouldn’t exist in the first place. That is a complicated discussion. But it’s also not likely that Drake, Brown, or Meek were saying “Free Tory” from an abolitionist lens — they were just trying to support the boys club. 

Trending

Despite Tory’s conviction, the bowels of the gossip blogosphere, run by misogynistic podcasters and streamers, still cling to rumors of suppressed videos and secret witnesses and anything else that may appear out of fairy dust to legally absolve the Toronto artist and affirm their twisted belief that women are never to be trusted. It’s sad to think that so many of music’s biggest names enabling that cohort. 

Despite their increasingly blatant misogynoir, artists like Drake still boast devoted fanbases who will propel him to record-breaking streaming numbers and refer to him as their figurative “husband.” It’s more proof that advocacy for a convicted violator of a Black woman isn’t a cardinal sin. If anything, it’s the norm. How long will we let that be the case?

Sent from my iPhone

Translation: if you love your man so much, schedule for sex in prison Aubrey Graham.

or better yet just go to hell and take your bald head biiich with you.

#❤��❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ #This whole case had me changing my opinions and views(at least for the moment) #celebrating the police and the system #being xenophobic towards Canadian people #posting stories with reader plus white celebrities with fluffy or smutty material #nearly being racist towards black men #saying that some of them nigcels deserved to be another hashtag #and backing the death penalty. #megan thee stallion #i’m not sad for her #i’m outraged #i’m just glad she’s in a better place now #those people can speak for themselves they know who they are #and they can go straight to hell #they will pay for their crimes #for sucking that abusers meat #Instagram #As always a loud and sincere fuck you to everyone who has doubted her and supported that Canadian cuntery who must not be named #She went through unnecessary trauma for two years #That’s unforgivable #Next level fuckery #That that type of ish that would lead to an episode of snapped or deadly women #once again #🖕🏿daystar Peterson #annnnn boom #just like that #may all who come against black women rot #Don’t fuck with black women #If you can’t love them then at least don’t harm them #can’t wait to see that sociopath locked up on August 7th.

[kalamees332]

"The Invisible Girl" by Mary Shelley

Today is fourth blog post day. The story is written by Mary Shelley. Today I am going to analyze a short gothic story called "The Invisible Girl". The story was written in 1832. I think the the story name came from Rosina, who was walking in the woods and people fought that she was a ghost.

There was an Orphan named Rosina. She was adopted by Sir Peter. He also hade a son. His son's name was Henry, and he is pretty important in this story because he was in love with Rosina. Sir Peter also had a sister and she always snitched and was annoying. She like fought that she is the queen and she can do what ever she wants. Example she told Peter about Henrys and Rosina's love relationship. The sister talked lots of false and the dad got really mad and Rosina ran away from home. Rosina escapes up to a tower. Henry got depressed knowing that Rosina has disappeared. Every night Henry couldn't sleep and one night he saw a light coming from the tower, where Rosina had escaped. Henry goes there and meets Rosina. Henry explains Rosina that his dad did not mean all of the words he told. After that Rosina and Henry married. Peter now could understand that he made a mistake being mad on Rosina and apologies for that kind of action. He could understand that love is the most important and actually saw love in Rosina and Henry.

Now I am going to talk about the characters. Rosina was very kind and shy. When someone told something bad to Rosina, then Rosina took it straight it to his heart. He took huntress and opened her feelings a lot. She showed great respect on Henry and Sir Peter. I also think that Rosina also very smart because she had lost of books in her house.

Now I'm going to talk about Sir Peter Vernon, who was Henry's dad and Rosina's stepdad. Sir Peter was for me a very strict person, he always shouted on everyone . He cared about them very much and when he realized that Rosina had run away he was very sad and started to look for her and he also felt guilty and he definitely missed Rosina, because she was still his daughter. Maybe he hade a hard life as a kid, that's why he is so strict. He also did not want that Rosina marries Henry. He was like very strict but at the same time he showed love.

Henry loved Rosina even though she was her sister. When he fell in love with her he did not care if Rosina was poor or not. He wasn't really a fighter. I think that he should fight back with Peter. Not to get revenge but a man should take responsibility of his girl. He had to talk with Peter in that situation, what I think.

Now let's talk about the conflict. Sir Peter was mad on Rosina, because she was together with his son. So it could be man vs man. But Henry didn't really mess with his father so it could actually be a man vs society, because Peter was mostly against everything. He was against Henry and Rosina.

I see that the moral of the story could be to listen to what you feel, not hear. Peter felt kindness in his heart, but he listened to his sisters snitching fake news. Do what you feel not hear would be my quote to this story.

Thank you for reading. Also go check my other blog posts posted out.

Thank you.

[swbumblebee]

In the beginning months of the war, Obi-Wan Kenobi had found the organized chaos that was a battalion of the GAR extracting themselves from a planet, to be one of the most stressful parts of his new position. It was usually straight after a battle when most of the troops (not to mention himself) were exhausted and dirty and, whilst he knew that everyone knew their roles, even after all this time it was hard to keep one’s head amongst the shouting and dashing around.

It was particularly mad this time; Anakin and a good portion of the 501sthad joined them for the campaign and were hitching a ride home on the Negotiator. Their help had been invaluable in what turned out to be a very difficult series of skirmishes for the planet’s capital City. And though they prevailed it had resulted in a higher number of casualties than either General was comfortable with.

In the midst of the pandemonium Obi-Wan and Cody put their heads together, an impromptu planning meeting in the busy corridor.

“…more bodies on watch”

“mmm I agree, B Shift should be able to spare-“

“Sirs!”

They were interrupted by a junior medic, stopping to salute them both.

“Sirs we’re running out of space for the wounded, we’re two beds short and medbay is full” he panted out, still at full parade attention.

“Officers mess?”

“Full”

“Barracks cabins?”

“Full” the corporal confirmed.

“Put them in my cabin Corporal” Obi-Wan instructed, cutting Cody’s list off with a wave of his hand.

“Sir?”

Cody gave him an unimpressed look

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’ll bunk with Anakin.” Obi-Wan was quick to cut his mother-hen of a commander off before the nagging started. “It’s not like we haven’t done it before. We can work out a schedule.” He assured confidently as the medic nodded and scurried off.

Cody raised one eyebrow, but before he could argue they were interrupted once again.

“Master”. The young man in question rounded the corner at speed, striding towards them both with a tired smile and stormy eyes, scraping a hand through his hair.

“Good evening, Anakin”

“Hi Master, Cody” he nodded in greeting, before turning back to the senior Jedi. “Obi-Wan, can I use your bunk when you’re not in it? I’ve just put one of the injured men in mine” he asked casually.

There was a moment of silence wherein Cody gave his General a very flat look. Obi-Wan got the impression that had they been alone he would have facepalmed quietly in despair.

“Hmm.” Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile a little. “I might have trained you a little too well” he said drily.

“Huh?”

“I’m afraid we’ll both have to find somewhere to sleep, my bunk is also occupied” he explained, straightening up.

Anakin groaned.

“Not to worry I’m sure-“

“Generals Sir, can we get your sign off on this please?”

Before Obi-Wan could finish his reassurance, they were once again pulled apart by the current of busy troopers extracting themselves from the planet.

---

It was some hours later when Obi-Wan resurfaced. He lent against the bulkhead, taking advantage of the empty corridor he found himself in. A calm had settled over the ship, most people at this point were unconscious and a skeleton crew were keeping things operational.

“Hey there you are”

He was jolted out of a particularly long blink by Anakin’s hand clapping him on the shoulder.

“Bit tired there, Master?” he teased with the energy of youth, pulling the older Jedi away from the wall.

“No” Obi-Wan answered churlishly, wrapping his robe more tightly around himself and fighting back a yawn.

“Sure” His friend gave him a knowing look. “Me neither”.

Obi-Wan snorted despite himself.

“Well” he spread his hands in the air. “Where shall we bed down?” he asked cheerfully.

There was a moment of silence as they both reached the inevitable, depressing conclusion.

“Fighters” they said at the same time.

---

As far as space and comfort went, sleeping in the cockpit of one’s fighter was decidedly not ideal. But, he had slept in worse locations and it was one of the only places they could think of where they wouldn’t be in the way or disturbed on a busy and full ship.

Snuggling into his cloak once more Obi-Wan entered a doze, breathing evening out and head lolling back against the headrest.

Sleep wasn’t far off, the blissful void making thoughts hard to hang on to and everything so easy and automatic.

In…and out…..in….and...out….

PPSSSSHHHHHHHHHH!!

He sat up with a panicked jerk, cursing as his head hit the ceiling and feeling the painful jerk on his bond with Anakin that told him the other man had done the same.

What the kriff?

He frantically looked around, only to see a small contingent of troopers outside, holding a couple of high-pressure washer hoses and looking up at him, stricken.

He groaned and dragged a hand down his face.

So much for undisturbed.

After placating the clean up crew, (and the slightly fraught emotions he and Anakin had inadvertently brought on;

“Oh my gods we woke up both Generals!”

“Scared the shit out of me!”

“…do we still clean the ships?”

“Dare you to hose em’”

The two Jedi, now rather frazzled, trudged heavily through the corridors.

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair for about the hundredth time that day.

“Any other ideas?”

---

The engine room, Obi-Wan had to admit, had been a stroke of genius.

It was loud, certainly, the clanging and thrumming of the engine core their constant companion, but after years of living with Qui-Gon’s snoring and then Anakin’s sleep mumblings, Obi-Wan was well used to tuning things out.

It was nice and warm, and they’ve managed to find a couple of flat and springy workbenches to curl up on with their cloaks.

Mmmmm. Warm. Sleepy.

At this point Obi-Wan was fairly confident he would be able to sleep anywhere.

The familiar haze and peace crept up on him, the thrumming of the engine sending him off to sleep-

“Master”

His former best friend gave him a nudge.

“G’way”

“Obi-Wan”

Another nudge.

“Oh for the love of – “ He sat up with what he hoped was his most venomous glare. “What is it Anakin?”

The young man was standing over him, arms folded and a pout the Master hadn’t seen in many years on his face.

“I can’t sleep here, it’s too loud.”

---

The conference room always smelled a little musky, but it was quiet enough for Princess Skywalker and guaranteed to be empty for the rest of the night.

They lay down across a few of the chairs, rolling themselves up in their respective cloaks they settled down.

Obi-Wan had terrible memories of this room. Of stressful and intimidating council meetings.

He lay there in the quiet, glancing occasionally at the projector in the middle of the table, the standby light blinking silently.

A sudden thought occurred to him.

“Anakin” he said into the quiet. A grunt told him his companion was still conscious.

“Anakin” he said again “Do you…” He trailed off.

“Hmm?”

Obi-Wan tried again.

“If there was an incoming call right now, from say, the council or the admiralty…it wouldn’t automatically connect and project us, would it?” he asked tentatively.

“Nah we’d h’v to answer it” Came the succinct response.

“…even if it was an emergency call?”

“mmm”

“Anakin, what if it was an emergency call?” he tried again, his exhausted paranoia increasing by the moment.

“There won’t be an emergency call Obi-Wan.” the tired young man reassured him.

There was a moment of silence.

“Anakin. I can’t sleep here.”

---

Cody strode away from the mess hall, clutching his porridge and caff. It had been a good night’s sleep after a job well done. The troops were cheerful at the prospect of a couple of days journeying away from that hell planet and towards their brothers, and it was catching. Cody even found himself with the urge to whistly as he was greeted by those he passed.

He wondered idly where the Generals were. General Kenobi was usually one of the first up – keen for the troops to see him with them and approach over breakfast whilst he started on his paperwork in the mess.

It was a nice tradition, but Cody could cut him some slack for choosing to spend some time with his former apprentice and, hopefully, sleep in.

Wherever they ended up sleeping.

Cursing as his commlink went off Cody suddenly found himself trying to juggle the item in question as well as his porridge and caff.

“What is it Stones?” he answered grumpily

“Sir…you might want to pay a visit to the rec room.”

Cody knew better than to ask why, but he was fairly confident whatever it was, it was the 501st’s fault.

“Now?”

“Yes Sir.”

Cody sighed.

“This better be good Lieutenant” he said sharply, ending the call.

---

He entered the rec room with trepidation. Instantly on alert when he was met with a suspicious quiet.

No music, no early morning chatter, no news casts.

“Stone?” he barked into the quiet. Only to be very miffed when multiple people shushed him. Shushed their Marshall Commander!

“Sir” Lieutenant stone hurried towards him. “Sir you need to be quiet. Look”

The nervous clone stood to one side, clearing Cody’s view of one of the benches in the corner.

He nearly groaned out loud.

There, sitting smushed up against each other tangled together in their brown and dark brown cloaks, were their fearless leaders.

General Kenobi was squashed into the wall by General Skywalker leaning with his head on his shoulder, drooling ever so slightly on his mentor. Cody could see his lips moving ever so slightly but no sound came out. General Kenobi’s head was resting on his chest, fringe flopping over his face and eyelids fluttering ever so slightly.

Cody sighed.

Bloody Jedi.

“Right, everyone out.” He said softly. “Put up a sign, the rec room is out of order for the next six hours.” He declared.

He was met with silent salutes as the handful of men scuttled out, one of two casting rather smitten looks at the, admittedly rather adorable, scene in the corner.

Alone with them, he allowed himself his own quick observation of the scene, sorely wishing he had his bucketcam with him.

Who knew these were two of the fiercest men in the galaxy?

Or, would be, once they were conscious.

He flicked off the lights, and left them in peace. Force knows they had to take it where they could.

#Obi-Wan Kenobi #Anakin Skywalker #snippet of nothing #best mates in space #Master Kenobi #Fluff #Cody puts up with a lot #obi wan fanfic

[unfinshedsentec]

Is it ok if I ask for a Draken x Reader where reader protects draken and gets stabbed instead ( sorry Ik you have your seriously injured series )

hey love! thank you so so much for requesting! I’ve been WAITING for a good angst so I loved doing this.

I just hope it’s something close to what you want! I really do hope you enjoy!

tragedy stabs|| ken ryuuguji

reader is gender neutral!

character pairing: ken ‘draken’ ryuuguji x reader

tw: slight cursing, blood, depression, stabbing, and death

have fun with the angst!

The night was August 3rd, the night of the infamous summer festival ,and also the night where the legendary Toman-Moebius fight happened.

It was a warm rainy night. The parking lot you stood in was loaded with rain, which was mixed with the crimson blood of the many men around. Men were unconscious everywhere, and the ones who weren’t were pretty beaten up. It wasn’t a surprise, especially considering the fact the Toman was quite outnumbered, but that didn’t make it any more pleasant.

If anything, it made things more worrisome. The only people who were holding Toman up at this point was your boyfriend, Draken, and Mikey….and Draken wasn’t doing so good.

Your boyfriend had gotten attacked while he was walking with you. He got a pretty nasty whack to the head, which most certainly affected him more than he made it look like. But there he his, still fighting guys like he wasn’t half-conscious.

His movements were erratic, and he was clearly not doing well, but he was still holding his ground. And he was doing it just enough that the other guys weren’t hold back on him.

It was worrisome, to watch him like that, but what could you do? You weren’t a fighter. You would certainly end up dead if you went in there….and that was something you weren’t really into.

You could only watch, and hope Draken would be okay…and that nothing bad would happen.

But sadly, it seemed that luck wasn’t on your side and death was instead hanging over your head. Because as you watched your boyfriend fight off all those tough-ass men, you saw someone heading for your boyfriend.

The guy was wearing a Toman uniform, but something about his behavior set off alarms in your head. He was just acting…. strange, as if he was getting ready to do something he wasn’t supposed to.

It was only then, that you saw the knife in his hand.  He was headed right toward your boyfriend with a knife in his hand, and he showed no signs of stopping.

Immediately, ran towards Draken to warn him, or at least pull his somewhere else, but it seemed that the other guy noticed you and your fear towards him. Then, he started running. He ran as fast as he could, as did you.

But it was too late. You didn’t get there fast enough to warn Draken. So, you did the next best thing.

You stood in the way.

At first, you felt nothing.

There as no pain, even as you watched the black hair man dig his knife further in and twist it inside you. It was as if everything was fine. However, as time passed, and the man pulled to the knife out, you felt burning pain, one that was so horrible that you couldn’t focus on anything else except that.

You heard distant yells of panic, and you could vaguely see the blurry face of your boyfriend, but even the face of the person you loved most couldn’t suck you out of the depths of pain.

It was just so horrible.

It was hot and cold at the same time. It was almost as if, well, somebody had tore through all your organs. Pain spread throughout your entire body, and it showed no end.

It was hell. True, pure, painful hell.

Soon enough, the darkness and pain overtook you, and you were left with nothingness. Though, the horrified shouts of your boyfriend rung though your mind.

“Y/N!” he desperately screamed, hoping to reach you. “NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, DON’T YOU L-LEAVE ME LIKE THIS……d-don’t you dare….”

Unfortunately, even those calls which you oh-so-much wanted to answer, couldn’t even keep you there. The pain and the darkness was just all too enticing—and you couldn’t resist it.

It was at that very moment that all signs of life in you left, and the heart monitor made the horrible never-ending beep, indicating that there was nothing left of you.

You were now and empty shell, one that used to be so full of life. One that Draken loved. But now, he was stuck, watching the one he loved most cease to exists right in front of his eyes.

“Y/n…..no……”

And that, was the end of your love story, the very one that could’ve led to a happy ending.

Well, one day it’ll lead to a happy ending…just in another lifetime.

//end!

masterlist | reblogs are appreciated <3

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #ryuuguji ken #draken x reader #draken #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #draken drabble #draken x you #draken x y/n #tokyo revengers draken #draken angst #angst #tokyo revengers angst #drabble #ken chin #ryuguji ken x reader #ken ryuuguji x y/n #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuuguji

[phoenixyfriend]

Time Travel ft. Leia and Vader

(Helped by @atagotiak)

I was reading a bunch of different time travel fics, and my brain slotted in that one "Vader hands over the Empire to Leia and is now her most devoted sycophant" dynamic and mixed it with the "Luke and Vader time-travel and Vader does the right thing but only because it would make Luke sad if he didn't."

I landed on "Leia time travels to prequels era, but her least favorite family member has also traveled with her, though it takes him a few months to find her because he has less resources without the entire Imperial Navy, but he's still a scary Sith in all black with a breathing mask and intimidating cape."

"Tiny angry lady who wants to force democracy and her giant Sith father whom she hates but has resigned herself to pointing at threats like a tank who inexplicably loves her" is a delightful dynamic.

The first few months included a lot of concern about "why do you know so much about Sith if you're not trained or looking to be one" and then Vader shows up and calls her 'daughter' and she insults him and it's like "Oh. That explains it."

Council Member: We have a Sith in the Temple. Vader: Former Sith. Leia: Listen. He is your best chance against Sidious. Also, do you want Dooku dead? Vader can make him dead. Council Member: Your father i-- Leia, scrunching up her face: Don't call him that.

Like Leia is deep in conversation when the Temple starts panicking because Vader just. Showed up? He snuck in, somehow? So Palpatine wouldn't catch him on video entering through the front door? And people try to keep her away from the trouble, because there's an entire array of Jedi Masters to deal with this Surprise Sith, except she can sense exactly which Sith it is and once she shouts "oh you have got to be kidding me!" she just starts running and, well, it's Leia. Nobody can stop her.

(Leia does have less combat training, at least less force-assisted combat training, than the Jedi. But then the Jedi don’t want to hurt here here. She's not fighting her way down, either, she's just running really fast and all the best fighters already left. They had a head start. So Leia's mostly running past random padawans and the like.)

She shoves her way to the front of the group of Masters who. Well, they're certainly ready to attack. But Vader is just standing there. Doing nothing. Still intimidating as fuck but he's not doing anything.

And then Leia bursts onto the scene like "You motherfucker."

She hits her head on a clipboard and whines because UGH he's a walking WMD and they could REALLY use him against Palpatine but also. She hates him so much.

She tries to hand him off to the Jedi council but he insists that he will only take orders from Leia herself.

Jedi: Wait, what. Leia, completely ignoring them: Did you follow me here? Vader, through the mechanical wheezing: I have no loyalty to my master and no empire to serve. You are all that I have left. Leia: Me? Me? I'm all that you have left? You committed a genocide that killed all the family I had except for the twin brother you later mutilated! Jedi: Wait what Vader, going to one knee: I pledge my loyalty and blade to you and only you, daughter. Leia, ready to explode: I. I just. Jedi, some of whom really want to say things but are slowly realizing that they just accidentally acquired a Sith Lord by proxy: What. Leia: I hate you so much but I can't even get rid of you, you're too useful. Vader: I live to serve. Leia: Yeah. Got that. Fuck. Someone get him a full medical rundown, I don't know the last time that mess of a life support system was updated. Jedi, agitated again: WHAT Leia: Listen, I don't like him, but I'm not stupid enough to throw away the second most dangerous person in the universe when I can point him at the most dangerous person in the universe. Especially not if he's going to listen to me. Jedi: But... he's a Sith. Leia: Please trust me when I say this: you might be able to take him down eventually, but he will take dozens of you down with him, and right now he's... honestly, I'm pretty sure he's more depressed than malicious. Jedi: You hate him. I can feel it. Leia: Yes, but I can be professional about it. Vader: They have not yet d-- Leia: Nope! No talking! Not until I've had a chance to process this mess!

There is a whole lot of Leia snapping at Vader to stop it whenever he starts giving off vibes like he wants to take the most violent shortcut possible.

She is not the gentle hand that Luke would be.

Leia isn't a Jedi or working for them but she's wormed her way into being an ally. They don't 100% trust her, especially not with Vader just showing up and declaring her family but like

How do you say no to a WMD walking into your house and saying "I will fight the monster you cower from at night."

There's a lot of Leia snapping off an admonishment that sounds just a little too odd and then when questioned she just says "He knows what he did."

tbh I'm not sure how long it takes for them to tell anyone that Anakin is Vader. They might hold it off in hopes that Anakin can just retire to be Mr. Amidala after the war is over.

Well, Leia hopes. Vader just lets Leia make that call and then glowers at his younger self every time they're in the same room.

I do feel like Leia tells Obi-Wan the truth first

Imagine. Imagine a Vader who’s past still isn’t known. But has gotten somewhat comfortable around the Jedi (not really but the bar for what counts and comfortable for him is low). And Obi-Wan habitually banters with darksiders, right? If Vader’s guard is down for a moment and he, without thinking, references an inside joke...

Might be the most fun in terms of ways to tell Obi-Wan "We're time travelers and Vader is what happens if you let Palpatine drive Anakin off the edge"

If Vader has decided to pledge himself to her orders after destroying her planet, then fine. She can work with that. She's not going to be happy about it, but she can make it work.

The Jedi Temple hates having Vader anywhere nearby but he is actually very good at hiding himself from people, including Palpatine And for all that Leia seems perpetually irritated with her apparent bodyguard, he does seem to listen to her.

Jedi council: We still haven't figured out how to handle Dooku Leia: Do you know his location? Jedi council: Yes. Leia: [sigh] Leia: Vader, deal with it. Alive if possible.

(Leia does need to clarify an acceptable level of violence against the people protecting Dooku.) (She needs to clarify... many things.)

Leia always says "Vader" and one time a poor fool just asks why she doesn't call him dad and she snarls out "He is not the man that raised me, and I am glad for it."

Someone less foolish later prods more compassionately and she lets them know she was adopted and didn't properly meet Vader except in passing until she was nineteen.

"And then he tortured you." "And then he tortured me, yes." "Damn." "Didn't even find out we were related until a few years later when he chopped my brother's arm off." "You... wow." "I know."

At least one exchange that is L: You mean when you tortured me? A: He did what. V: I was not aware of our relation at that time. L: Not the point! I am fully aware of your interrogation methods and I refuse to let you be the one to acquire the evidence for-- A: Wait no go back he tortured you? L: Move on, please, we already have. A: That means I'm... oh Force, I'm going to torture my own daughter what in the actual fu-- L: We're moving on.

(“I end up torturing my own daughter” If Leia’s feeling especially spiteful I can see her saying “you mutilate your own son too”)

Concept: Leia is very free with traumatizing details of her past re:Vader and Anakin thinks that it sucks but doesn’t think much of it bc Sith. And then some time later he finds out...

(I love characters who use the traumatizing details of their past to shut down conversations.)

It's such a wonderfully horrifying concept for him to try to awkwardly comfort this girl he kind of knows because having a Sith for a dad sounds like it would suck and Leia seems nice, even if she's kind of weird and uncomfortable around Anakin, but he saw her flinch around a few other tall people wearing black robes the way she stiffens around Vader so maybe it's just that!

It is not.

Vader does get a significant amount of medical treatment. Including a bunch of "holy shit, that's a lot of drugs" and similar. There is so much lightning damage.

hnnng I'm just really in love with the image of Tiny Tiny Leia sitting behind a desk for some fancy negotiation, the picture of professionalism, while Vader just stands behind her shoulder, looming, glaring expressionless death at whoever came to speak with his baby girl.

Not that he would call her that, because she'd just hate him more and he's really not sure how to fix that problem, other than doing whatever she asks with no complaints and hoping she appreciates it.

Vader: [looks at children wandering by, has complicated emotions] Leia, tired of his shit: What now? Vader: I killed them, once. Leia, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath: And you're not going to do that again. No killing children. Vader: I know that. Leia: Great. I am... regretting asking. I am so very much regretting asking.

I do really like the idea of someone asking Leia once if she wants Jedi training and she says, no, actually, she's fully aware of the fact that she's angry little ball of hate sometimes, especially towards her bio father, and she'd like to refrain from putting herself in a position where she knows enough about the Force to Fall. She wouldn't Fall. But it does make people shut up.

#leia organa #princess leia #Darth Vader #Anakin Skywalker #obi wan kenobi #star wars #time travel #Phoenix Posts

[oliviajdjarin]

Chapter 1: a tug

Warnings: PTSD, sadness, depression, panic attack, mentions of violence

Author’s note: this is part one of my series called “Burning Red.” This is kind of boring because it is a set up for the main storyline, but I hope you enjoy it! Any constructive criticism and support is greatly appreciated. And if I missed a warning, please let me know!!

After everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve done, everyone you’ve hurt, it felt good to just lay low.

A mechanic on tatooine was not what you imagined, but it did the trick.

No one saw you for who you truly were, and that made you happy.

Well, except for Peli.

You came to her sick and angry and alone, and she nursed you back to health. You would be rotting in the desert if it wasn’t for her, and you felt you owed her a little something.

So, you used your “uncommon” set of abilities to help her with her mechanics in any way she needed.

This included: cooking, cleaning, repairing, negotiating, and most importantly, defending.

Peli was no dummy. She knew you had more experience in that field than she did. So she recruited you, and paid you back with whatever she had laying around. A new outfit once and a while, a warm bed, a hot dinner, and a couple of credits so you could go shopping and get out of her hair.

You couldn’t blame her. You were a hell of a lot of trouble to be around.

Constant nightmares, paranoia, and regret surrounded your aura like a fog. Any normal person wouldn’t notice, but someone like Peli could. And it pissed her off a good majority of the time.

“Stop moping and help me clean this oil off my droid,” and sentences like this one, were said pretty frequently around your place.

Was it even your place? All you did was survive. Is that enough to say you lived there instead of just survived there?

You really liked Peli. She gave you a base. A “home” of sorts, and for that you were forever indebted.

But something in you always called you back to your real home, and that scared you more than Peli’s tough love. More than you could even describe.

~~*~~

It was a pretty normal day on Tatooine. The wind howled, the sand covered everything in its wake, and the heat. You would never get used to it.

You were eating your breakfast when a ship landed on the landing pad, and you could already tell it was a doosey just by the way the left engine was sputtering.

If this ship explodes, we better get a damn good pay, you think to yourself.

The ramp starts to open and you take that as your queue to start the walk to your makeshift room. It was really a storage room, but you didn’t mind.

When you get there, you squat down to the ground behind your door and grab your apron and set of tools. You knew Peli would need some help with this ship.

You hear the ship’s ramp hit he ground and you feel it.

A tug.

Not even a tug, a lurch. It felt like a rope had been tied to your soul and pulled you back into your old self.

This was a tug you hadn’t felt in so long. So long, it almost knocks you off your feet.

I closed myself off from this, you think. I shouldn’t feel this. I don’t want to feel this.

You already feel a headache coming on from the shock and ache in your bones, so you start walking back to the landing pad to tell Peli you aren’t feeling too well.

If I get recognized, we are both dead.

You’d rather get a scolding from Peli than a scolding hot gun wound in your chest.

“Hey,” you hear Peli shout at the client, and you pick up your pace. Your heart is hammering in your chest and you feel the panic ooz through your body.

It’s been so long since you’ve felt this, but you hate how it makes you feel alive.

You finally make it to Peli and you see her speaking very loudly (she doesn’t like to use the word “yelling”) at what seems to be your client.

But this is no ordinary client. This is a Mandalorian.

A very broad Mandalorian who, no offense to Peli, could knock her out in his sleep.

You had heard legends of their kind. But worst of all, you had fought them. And damn were they good.

You hadn’t seen any since the purge. You had heard rumors of them hiding under ground, but they had always been peaceful people. You hated how they got dragged into a war.

“You damage one of my droids, you’ll pay for it,” Peli says, and you really wish she would use a more peaceful tone.

The last thing you want to do right now is fight a very impressive looking Mandalorian covered entirely in beskar while your entire body is tingling.

Is he the one who is force sensitive?

“Just keep them away from my ship” he says, and you are surprised at how well he is taking Peli’s annoyance.

“Yeah? You think that’s a good idea?” Peli responds in a tone dripping with sarcasm and you take this as your moment to try to sneak away.

This however, was unsuccessful.

“Come on y/n. Let’s take a look at his ship,” she says and the Mandalorian turns his helmet towards you.

You probably look like an absolute mess. Your chest is heaving, you are sweating, and you are not at all prepared to do any sort of repairs. You are basically in your pajamas. The Mandalorian’s gaze has you nervous enough, but this familiar feeling in your stomach has you dizzy and nauseous.

Just hold on......

You start to follow Peli to the ship while still looking at the Mandalorian. You learned very early on in your life to never take your eyes off a predator. He follows your form and you try your best to mask his incredibly strong force connection gripping your chest.

This man isn’t even trying to hide it? It’s almost as if he is reaching for me?

You make it to Peli where you finally take your eyes off of him. You can see why Peli was so mad now.

“Oof! Look at that,” she says as she scans the ship with her eyes. “You’ve got a lot of cabron scoring up top. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in a shoot out.”

Oh my God, he was in a shoot out.

This is really not good. This man could have been followed and you could be surrounded at this very moment. You were a skilled fighter, but those kinds of odds were almost unbeatable. Especially when you were still trying to hide your identity.

You are so tense you feel like you could snap. You still feel his eyes on you, and you are praying to whatever is out there that you can just stay alive. That’s the only thing you’re good at.

“Name’s Peli Motto. That’s y/n,” she says as she points to you with her wrench.

She did not just tell him your NAME.

“This is my operation. You’re not gonna find a better mechanic on the planet,” she says as she leaned in closer to the engine.

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to rotate that. You’ve got a fuel leak. Look at this, this is a mess. How did you even land?”

All you wanted to do was scream.

He is a MANDALORIAN who was just in a SHOOT OUT. He is probably being FOLLOWED and we could be dead because of ME.

“That’s gonna set you back,” she says.

She is concerned about MONEY right now?

Peli is a smart woman, but she was walking you into a trap. You didn’t want her blood on your hands. You didn’t need any more of that.

All of this is happening while you are still on the verge of a panic attack.

This Mandalorian is strong with the force. It is squeezing your lungs and your feet and your hands and your brain. All rational thinking is out the window. You had to get out of here before he manages to suffocate you.

God you hate this feeling. A few years ago you lived with this constantly. It became a part of you. Something you enjoyed. But now...

“I’ve got five hundred imperial credits,” the Mandalorian says.

Imperial credits. Great. How did he get his hands on those?

“That’s all you got? Well..” she says and looks back at you.

“What do you think,” she asks in a teasing tone.

You try to plead to her with your eyes. You are sweating beyond belief and your brain is about to explode.

She tightens her brows in confusion at your state, but continues to bargain.

“That should at least cover the hanger,” she says and you feel your jaw almost drop to the floor.

How can she not see it?

“I’ll get you your money,” the Mandalorian mumbles and you try to take a deep breath. Passing out in front of one of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy who may be here to kill you would rip off the last bit of pride you had left. If you are going down, you are going down with a fight.

“I’ve heard that before,” Peli responds and looks at you in a joking way. Like she was trying to coax you into laughing with her.

You try to chuckle back, but it just comes out in a low breath.

You sound insane.

“Just remember—,” the Mandalorian starts

“No droids. I heard ya,” Peli finishes.

“Why do you think I keep this girl around,” she says chuckling with a pat on your back.

You muster up the strength to smile and feel holes burning in your head from the Mandalorian’s gaze.

He really knows how to stare.

The Mandalorian leaves the hanger, and it takes everything in you not to pass out right there.

You thought with him leaving it would die down, but it’s only getting worse.

“Are you ok,” Peli asks and helps you lower yourself to the ground.

You are breathing frantically now and your hands are clutched to your chest.

“He has it,” you say and you know Peli knows what you mean.

She looks at you with wide eyes and you see the realization on her face.

“Oh my god.... he was in a shootout,” she says.

“Uh huh,” you breathe out. The desperate force connection is starting to fade and you feel your lungs fill up with air once more.

“He could have been followed! Or he could be here to—“

“Kill us,” you say. Peli hates when you finish her sentences, but there was no point in caring right now.

“Ok. Get inside. If I need you I will call for you,” she says and you nod, slowly getting to your feet.

You start to walk back to your room, with Peli’s arms guiding you, while taking deep breaths, but you freeze when you sense something else coming out of the ship and you snap your head to the ramp.

“What,” Peli says as she follows your gaze.

Your heart flutters. The force is slowly starting to ease its nasty grip on you.

If you didn’t sense the creature, you would miss it.

A little green baby, wrapped in what looked like a potato sack, was strolling down the ramp, looking directly at you.

“It’s him,” you say.

“He has it.”

#din djarin #mando #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #star wars #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction