#Sentinel: The West Face

[joeygallagher]

Sentinel: The West Face (1967)

Dir. - Roger C. Brown

Starring - Royal Robbins and Yvon Chouinard

Writing / Narration - Barry Corbet

[transformersxreader]

TFONE Starscream x Femme Reader x Yandere-ish D-16/Megatron (Part 2)

/Part Two/

"Anything to report switchsky?"

(Y/n) ask turning to face the group of scout seekers that had just arrived, switchsky shakes her head

"Nothing to report commander (Y/n)."

(Y/n) smiles and laughs

"Please (Y/n) will do, get some rest."

(Y/n) pats switchsky's shoulders, walking off towards the throne area. Where she indeed found Starscream sitting in all his glory.

"Greetings my lord."

Starscream smiles a bit shaking his head,

"Anything to report from our seekers? My dear."

(Y/n) sat on left side of the arm throne, pulling up a hologram of cleared area scouted.

"According to our seekers this sector has been cleared and to the west, but I think for my

Seekers safety I'll check up on the north side myself."

Starscream grabs ahold of (Y/n) servo placing soft kisses and looking up to her.

"Always thinking of our seekers. But you know I can't let u go alone."

(Y/n) sighs hopping off the arm throne

"Fine. Fine. I'll take Boomer and Rushtrap with me okay?"

Starscream stood up from his throne, giving (Y/n) a nod of approval.

"Report back immediately once the north sector is cleared."

"Yes sir."

(Y/n) was just about to turn to leave but felt Starscream servo gently holds up her chin to meet his optics

"Be safe my dear."

(Y/n) blushes chuckling, almost tripping over her pedes.

Transforming quickly to her jet form and calling Boomer and rushtrap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"See anything mechs?"

"Nothing to report (Y/n)."

Rushtrap replies flying on her left while Boomer flew to her right side.

The three transform out of their alt mode landing on a cliff that had a great view of the landscape.

"Hmm..."

"Something the matter Bommer?"

Rushtrap ask making (Y/n) look back to the two seekers waiting for his response

"Something feels off..."

Boomers deep voice echos out till all their coms activated

"(Y/n) report back to base, some scout seekers found trespassers."

"We are a bit far but will arrive soon as possible. Let's go."

(Y/n) jumps off the cliff transforming and blasting off with a bit more speed, rushtrap and boomer transforming following behind (Y/n).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) lands at the entrance of base, noticing all the high guards were gather at the throne area. She looks back to see Rushtrap and Boomer telling them to join the others while she joins Starscream.

(Y/n) made her way through the crowd, the seekers making way for her to get to the front. Once she was in the open area she stops and sees four bots on their knees. The yellow one turns to see (Y/n) and yells out in excitement his arms shaking around.

"Hey!! Look! Look! It's (Y/n)! She's here too!"

The three other bots turn to see (Y/n), she gave them a confused look before realizing that the gray and red bot were the miners she encountered on her mission.

"D-16?"

D-16 optics widen seeing (Y/n) again he felt his spark beating rapidly, he tries to stand but a few seekers aim their weapon to him shoving him down on his knees again.

(Y/n) gave D-16 an apologetic look while making her way up the stairs standing beside Starscream.

D-16 seems to noticed that you were of importance to this so called "wanna be king"

"Do you know these bots (Y/n)?"

(Y/n) looks back to D-16 than to Starscream replying

"Just the grey and red one, they were just simple miners I've encountered during my mission to the Iacon mines."

Orion pax was glad to see a familiar face and just as he stood to say that they should work together to unite cybertron was greeted with guns pointed to him.

Starscream didn't believe in working together uniting cybertron, stating that one bot with the strength should rule/lead.

Every bot cheered at Starscream words making

(Y/n) sigh looking away, truthfully she would follow Starscream without hesitation, but wanted justice for all bots on cybertron and for sentinel to pay for his crimes. Is this really the only way?

She was quickly pull out of her thoughts when Starscream stood from his throne.

"HEY!" What are you doing?"

(Y/n) sees D-16 waking away but was block by two seekers, D-16 turns to face Starscream explaining why he wasn't going to coward away, making pity moves and pretending to be a so called king.

"I found out that sentinel is rotten today! (Y/n) was the only one to warn me about him! but I was too blind to see/hear her! And I'm going to make him pay for it!

TODAY!"

(Y/n) can feel his pain, his optics showing the pain and anger he has build up, waiting for it all to be released to the world. (Y/n) hesitantly steps forward seeing Starscream walking more and more closer to the angry miner.

"You think you could insult me?, And just walk away? No one leaves here unless I say so."

Now both Starscream and D-16 are face to face, D-16 looks down thinking to himself, making eye contact with Starscream

"Is that right?.....well how could say so? With my head in your teeth."

Without a second D-16 head bumps Starscream faceplate catching him by surprise. The whole crowd begins to cheer in excitement for the brawl.

"D!"

"Starscream!"

Both Orion and (Y/n) scream out in fear, Starscream flies up to deliver a kick to D-16, blocking it with his arms but was greeted with a blast from Starscream heel rockets.

Starscream flies straight into D-16 grabbing him by the neck, lifting him up till his back hits a piece of the broken ship. Starscream repeatedly punches D-16 on his stomach, D-16 quickly transforms his leg  kicking Starscream off.

D-16 lands on Starscream, giving him punches back onto his faceplate, Starscream encourages him to hit him harder.

Both (Y/n) and Shockwave look to each other thinking the same thought, just as they both were to step in, Soundwave lifts both his arms as to say let them continue.

(Y/n) gave Soundwave a worried look, seeing D-16 hurting her Starscream. The crowd cheers out D-16 name encouraging the bot more, grabbing Starscream by the neck cables.

Starscream voice glitches out more and more as D-16 added pressure to his hold, D-16 angry seems to have come out when he lifted his arm ready to finish Starscream off. Till a large cannon transforms out aiming at Starscream, surprising everyone.

(Y/n) optics widen feeling her spark turn cold in fear, D-16 surprised as well. Talking a good look at his creation heavy breaths steaming out of him, aims his cannon more direct to Starscream.

"No! Please don't!"

(Y/n) steps forward trying to get closer to Starscream, D-16 gave her a stern stare.

"Stop! D! He's not the enemy."

There was a long pause. The atmosphere growing thicker of suspense.

(Y/n) lets out a breath of relief when D-16 pulls away his cannon, (Y/n) quickly knees down to aid Starscream. Holding him tightly, looking up to D-16 shaking in fear.

D-16 felt his spark pulse in pain seeing (Y/n) in this state but seeing her cowering to this so called leader. He could offer you so much more. Together you and him can get back at sentinel from all the pain he has cause.

You can be his.

"BARE WITNESS! THIS IS THE LAST TIME I SHOW MERCY!"

D-16 starts to claim that they should follow him to Iacon city and take their revenge on sentinel prime at this moment, aiming his cannon up shooting out a single charge. Everyone begins to cheer out his name.

"Are you okay?"

(Y/n) voice ask softly to Starscream, his voice glitches out when he tries to reassure her.

(Y/n) places her hand up to his lips, as in a way telling him not to speak.

"Please dear, I don't want you to damage your voice more."

(Y/n) looks around seeing everyone continue to cheer for their new champion, she felt her breath hitch in fear.

D-16 was looking at her direction, his optics seemed to have a more orange color to them. (Y/n) quickly looks away, her attention is back to Starscream. A loud bang can be heard from a distance, a flash of light.

The explosion happened so fast catching everybody by surprise, (Y/n) tightly holds onto Starscream who also holds back both sliding to the floor.

(Y/n) quickly pulls Starscream up pushing him away from the open area, just before Starscream was going to say something, (Y/n) transforms into her jet form. Attacking all the tracker bots down. She tackles one down, lifting up a fellow seeker telling them to take cover. (Y/n) aims up to the sky shooting down a few trackers before she felt someone tackling her down. (Y/n) grabs ahold onto their arms but felt a sting on her neck, looking up.

"A-airachnid!"

"(Y/n)."

Just has (Y/n) was going to aim her weapon at Airachind, she felt a large pain on her side of her helm, everything going dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey guys! Sorry for taking so long, I really took my time on this one,my apologies. I really appreciate your patience

The next one will be the final part, and I'll tell u D-16 is going to yandere-ish to yandere for (Y/n)

Again thanks for all your feedback and support it really means a lot to me! 😊

Peace ✌️

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 15

dbf!joel miller x female reader

"Something's bad is 'bout to happen to me."

summary: joel felt something's bad gonna come to him

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 15

masterlist!

previous | chapter 14

next | chapter 16

It’s been three months since Chicago—four or five months since you left the dusty plains of Texas behind, and it feels like a lifetime. You and Joel have crossed half the states now, weaving through the fabric of America, threading together the old and the new.

You’ve stood at the edge of the Atlantic, watched the crashing waves of Maine, and felt the bustling pulse of New York City beneath your feet. The journey hasn’t been easy, but the trials of the road have carved something deeper between you, something unshakable.

Now, in the heart of West Virginia, the air feels lighter, the weight of your past no longer suffocating your every breath. The mountains rise like ancient sentinels, cloaked in mist, and the trees burn with the colors of autumn—reds, oranges, and golds, like a fire that dances but never consumes. It’s Sunday morning, and the world feels hushed, as if creation itself is pausing to pray.

You stand in front of the mirror, smoothing down your dress, eyes tracing over the small gold cross that hangs delicately around your neck. It feels right to be heading to church again, even if you’re miles away from the one you grew up in.

God has not abandoned you, and in the quiet of your soul, you feel Him closer than ever. These days, prayer feels like a whispered conversation with the divine, a secret language only you and the heavens share.

The sunlight streams through the motel window, casting a golden glow over the room, as if the very hand of God is touching the space. Joel is sitting at the edge of the bed, lacing up his boots.

His face, marked by lines of experience and sorrow, looks softer in the morning light. You’ve seen him battle nightmares, wrestle with ghosts, but now, in this moment, there’s peace. A quiet, sacred peace that stretches between the two of you.

His face softens as he watches you in the reflection, a quiet admiration glowing in his eyes as you finish getting ready. You’re wearing a white dress, simple yet graceful, with a bandana tied in your hair.

It’s something about how the morning light dances on your skin, or maybe it’s the serenity you carry now—free from the burdens that once weighed you down. Joel is sitting on the edge of the bed, cleaning his boots, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you.

You catch him watching and smile through the mirror, raising an eyebrow. “What?” you tease, the soft curve of your lips pulling a smile from him.

Joel chuckles, shaking his head like he's been caught. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”

You laugh, a quiet sound that fills the room with warmth. “Yes, three times already this morning, Joel.”

He smiles, a hint of embarrassment creeping into his expression, but it’s laced with affection. Joel always does this—quietly admiring you, slipping in compliments like they’re secrets meant just for the two of you. And in moments like this, it’s as if the world outside doesn’t exist—just you and him, wrapped in your own quiet corner of peace.

As you adjust the bandana in your hair, you turn toward him, your voice soft and inviting. “You know, Joel,” you begin, keeping your tone relaxed, “why don’t you come pray with me today? Just today? It’s been a while.”

The words hang in the air gently, like you’re offering him a hand to hold, not pushing but hoping. You’ve asked him before—sometimes gently, other times more persistently—but Joel has always refused. He never says it harshly, but you know the weight of his past, the loss, the guilt, and it keeps him distant from anything that feels too close to redemption.

He looks down at his boots for a moment, the lines in his face deepening slightly, like he’s wrestling with something unsaid. Then, he looks back up at you, his eyes softer now. “You know I’m not good at that stuff, darlin’,” he murmurs, his voice gruff but tender. “But I’ll drive you. Always do.”

You knew he would say that, and it doesn’t hurt like it used to. Joel has his reasons, and you respect that. Still, you wanted to ask, to let him know the door is always open.

You nod, smiling at him gently. “Okay. Thank you.”

He stands up, grabbing his jacket and slipping it on as he walks over to you. He places a hand on your waist, pulling you in for a kiss on the forehead. “Go on,” he says quietly. “I’ll wait outside. You take your time.”

As he heads out to the truck, you take a deep breath, smoothing your dress one last time. You know Joel loves you—his way of showing it isn’t through prayer or words, but through the small acts, the way he always makes sure you’re safe, the way he waits for you, watches over you.

Outside, the air is crisp, the sun just starting to rise over the trees, casting long golden shadows across the parking lot. The church is only a few miles away, and as always, Joel will drive you there, wait in the truck or at a nearby diner. He may not join you inside, but his presence is always near, a quiet strength at your back.

You climb into the truck, Joel already behind the wheel, his hand resting on the gearshift. As you settle in, you glance over at him. “I won’t be long.”

He nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Take all the time you need.”

As the truck rumbles to life, you close your eyes for a moment, silently thanking God for this man beside you. You may walk different paths when it comes to faith, but in your heart, you carry prayers for him every day. Prayers for his peace, for his strength, and for the love you share.

You look out the window at the mountains in the distance, their peaks kissed by the morning mist. They remind you of the Psalms, where David speaks of lifting his eyes to the hills, asking where his help comes from. “My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.” That scripture echoes in your mind as you gather your things and head for the door. You know you’re not walking this road alone.

And maybe, one day, Joel will find his way back to prayer too. But until then, you’ll keep walking, hand in hand, carrying each other through whatever comes next.

The church is filled with people when you enter, the air thick with the scent of old wood and candle wax, whispers of faith blending with the creaking of pews.

You hold your Bible close, the one Frank gave you, its worn edges comforting beneath your fingertips. It’s funny how he’s become one of your closest friends now, even though you don’t call him or Bill often.

But whenever you borrow Joel’s phone, you laugh with Frank like you’ve known each other for years. He’s a light in your life, a reminder that friendship, like faith, can come from the most unexpected places.

But as you sit down, squeezing past strangers to find a seat, your heart aches for the ones you can’t call—Emma, her absence a hollow place inside you. You wish you could hear her voice again, see her smile, tell her everything that’s happened.

Ellie too, her mischievous laugh, her energy, her stubborn loyalty. You miss her so much it hurts, like a dull ache you can’t shake. And with it, there’s that lingering guilt—taking her father away, no matter how much she understands or loves Joel herself. You shake your head, pushing it aside as the service begins, but the feeling lingers like a shadow.

When it’s time to pray, you bow your head, hands clasped tightly around your Bible, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and gratitude.

“Thank You, Lord,” you whisper, the words barely audible but full of meaning, “for this life I have now. For the freedom You’ve given me.”

It feels like a confession every time you say it—as though you’re finally realizing the full weight of what it means to have left home, to have stepped out of the cage your father built around you.

Leaving wasn’t just about escaping the walls of that house; it was about breaking free from the chains of his control, his expectations. You hadn’t even known how trapped you were until Joel came into your life, offering you a way out, a hand to hold as you stepped into the light.

Now, the open sky stretches endlessly above you, the road ahead full of possibilities. And with Joel by your side, it feels like you’ve found a new kind of salvation.

Not the kind your father preached about, not the kind written in sermons, but one built on love, trust, and the quiet strength that grows between two souls walking together.

As the service ends and the congregation begins to trickle out, you stay behind. There’s something pulling at you, a need for extra time with God, to speak in the stillness, to let your heart pour out fully.

You approach the father of the church, an old man with eyes that seem to hold centuries of wisdom. You ask him if you can stay a little longer, to pray alone, and he smiles gently, nodding.

“Take all the time you need, child,” he says softly, his voice full of kindness.

You thank him, feeling a surge of gratitude for this small, sacred space where you can be alone with your thoughts, with God. You kneel at the altar, the stone cool beneath your knees, and close your eyes.

The church is quiet now, the echoes of footsteps long gone, leaving only the faint hum of the outside world drifting in through stained-glass windows.

You begin to pray—not for yourself, but for everyone you love. For Joel, who holds your heart in his rough, calloused hands; who carries your burdens as if they were his own; who has given you a life you never dreamed possible.

You ask God to keep him safe, to guide him through the shadows of his past, and to grant him peace—the kind of peace that reaches into the deepest corners of the soul and brings light where there was only darkness.

You pray for Ellie, wild and free, with a heart too big for this world. You ask God to protect her, wherever she is, and to remind her that she’s loved—even if it’s from afar.

You think of Tommy and Maria, and little Luke, their family growing like a tree rooted in strength and love. You ask for their safety, their happiness, and for the future they’re building together.

And then, you pray for your mother.

Despite everything, despite the silence between you and the choices she made, she’s still your mother. You still love her, and you pray that one day, she’ll find her own freedom, her own peace, even if it’s not beside you.

The words flow from you like a river, unstoppable, carrying all your fears, hopes, and dreams. You pour out your heart, letting the prayers rise like incense toward the heavens.

“Lord, I ask for strength—for myself, for Joel, for everyone I love. Help us to walk the path before us with grace, with courage, and with love. And thank You, God, for bringing me here. For showing me that there is more to this life than fear. That love can redeem, that freedom can heal.”

The air feels lighter now, as if the weight of your soul has been lifted, your prayers floating upward like smoke. You sit there in silence for a few moments longer, letting the quiet wash over you, before you slowly rise to your feet.

You feel lighter, clearer, as though the act of praying has unburdened your heart in ways you hadn’t realized you needed.

Outside, you know Joel is waiting for you, probably sipping coffee in a diner, his eyes scanning the windows, always watching for you. You smile softly, knowing that even though he didn’t come inside, he’s always with you.

Just as God is—always with you, guiding you, protecting you, even in the silence.

You slowly rise, the peace of the prayer still wrapped around you like a cloak, but the moment you turn to leave, you freeze. There, blocking your path, is a man.

His presence feels like a shadow that suddenly crept in unnoticed. “Hello, darlin’,” he says, his voice low and honeyed, dripping with a false sweetness that sends a shiver down your spine.

"My God, you scares me!"

***

Joel sits at the diner, his coffee steaming in front of him, his eyes locked on the church across the street. His fingers drum against the table, a habitual rhythm when his mind is restless. His thoughts drift between you and the call he’s just received from Tommy.

When the phone buzzes in his pocket, Joel picks it up, glancing at the church one last time before answering.

“Hey, Tommy,” he greets, keeping his voice low, the comfort of your presence still lingering.

“Joel,” Tommy starts, his voice lighter than usual. “Got some good news for ya.”

Joel raises an eyebrow, sitting up straighter. “What is it?”

Tommy continues, a note of relief in his voice. “Just heard from the sheriff—the state cops dropped your girl’s dad’s report. Said you didn’t kidnap her. Neighbors backed you up, saying she left with you willingly. She’s old enough to make her own choices, so... looks like you’re in the clear. No charges, no kidnapping.”

Joel exhales slowly, a weight lifting from his chest. Relief settles in, though it’s only partial. He knows your father, knew him for years—persistent, stubborn.

Joel’s not naive enough to think that just because the law’s off his back, your father will let this go. There’s still the nagging fear that he’ll do something crazy, something desperate to bring you back. Joel frowns, his jaw tightening as he watches the church door.

“Yeah, that’s a relief, but he’s not gonna stop lookin’ for her, Tommy. I know him. He’s not gonna let her go just like that.”

Tommy’s voice softens, offering some reassurance. “Look, I get it, but don’t go worryin’ yourself sick. We’ll handle whatever comes. You two just stay outta sight for now, keep layin’ low.”

Joel nods to himself, trying to calm the worry gnawing at him. "I hope you're right."

The conversation shifts to business after that, Tommy updating him on the construction company. “Listen, I got a job comin’ up that’s takin’ me down to Miami. Thought maybe we could meet there? You, me, and her—get together for a bit. It's been so long, I miss you brother,”

Joel considers it, glancing at the dwindling cash in his wallet. “Sounds good, Tommy. But, I’m runnin’ low on money. Almost out, actually. Everything I got left is what I’m carryin’. You know I ain’t got any cards with me, not after all the rumors started.”

Tommy chuckles, always the practical one. “Don’t worry, man. You know I’m takin’ care of the company. You still gettin’ your share as a founder, whether you’re workin’ or not. I’ll bring cash with me when we meet up in Miami.”

Joel hesitates. It feels wrong, relying on Tommy’s work when he hasn’t been pulling his own weight lately. “I don’t like not earnin’ it, Tommy.”

“Ah, cut the crap. You’re my brother. You helped build this thing from the ground up. That money’s yours too, whether you’re workin’ or not. I’ll bring it, and you’ll take it. End of story. or You make a new card and I can transfer it to you,"

Joel sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Alright, alright, Thank you....Guess I’ll have to make a new card soon then. You think it’s safe now?”

“Yeah, it’s safe enough. The report’s dropped. No one’s lookin’ for you anymore, least not the law. Go ahead and get yourself sorted.”

Joel nods again, already thinking of the days ahead. “Alright. We’re headed to Richmond next, then maybe Charlotte or Atlanta. We’ll make our way down to Miami in four days.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Tommy agrees.

Joel finishes his coffee, his thoughts still swirling when he catches sight of you stepping out of the church. You’re looking around for him, and he waves from the diner window.

The sight of you, with your Bible in hand and that familiar smile on your face, grounds him. He waves you over, already ending the call with Tommy as you cross the street.

When you walk into the diner, Joel’s smile softens. “Sorry I took so long,” you apologize, sliding into the booth next to him.

Joel leans over, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “It’s fine, baby. You hungry?”

You nod, settling into his side. The age difference between the two of you is always something that gets people’s attention—whispers, curious stares—but you’re beyond caring.

Let them look. What you and Joel have is real, deeper than anything they could ever understand.

Joel waves over the waitress, and you order breakfast: pancakes, bacon, eggs, and a vanilla milkshake. You ask Joel what he wants, but he shakes his head. “Just more coffee for me.”

The waitress leaves, and you snuggle closer to Joel on the long booth, his arm draped around your shoulders, holding you close. There’s a comfort in his touch, a silent promise of protection and love.

“Feelin’ good after your prayer?” Joel asks, his voice soft and genuine.

You smile, your heart warm. “Yeah, I am. I prayed for you too, you know.”

Joel’s hand tightens slightly on your shoulder, his heart full of an unspoken emotion. He doesn’t say it, but he’s grateful—grateful for you, for your faith, for the way you love him despite everything.

He tilts his head slightly, his lips tugging into a small, teasing smile.

"Is that so? What’d you pray about?" he asks, his voice low and playful, a touch of curiosity in his tone.

You smile, leaning in close until your noses nearly touch. “A girl never prays and tells, Joel. Never,” you tease, watching his eyes darken with amusement.

When he leans in to close the gap, your lips almost touching, you pull back just in time, giggling as Joel’s expression turns mock serious. His lips curl into a smirk, and before you can escape, he reaches out to tickle your sides, making you squeal with laughter.

“Joel! Stop!” you manage between giggles, but he only grins wider, his fingers relentless for a few more seconds until he finally stops, letting you catch your breath.

Some of the older folks in the diner cast side glances your way, their eyes full of judgment as if seeing a couple of teenagers in love. But neither of you cares. Let them look, let them wonder—you and Joel exist in your own world.

As your laughter dies down, you sense a brightness in him today, a lightness in his mood that makes your heart feel fuller. With a sly grin, you nudge him. “You seems so bright today. What’s the story, mister? Tess from Chicago calling you?”

Joel rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed by your teasing. “Stop it,” he grumbles, though his lips twitch with the hint of a smile. “She was just bein’ friendly and I don't even have her number."

You chuckle, knowing you’ve hit a nerve, but it’s all in good fun. “Oh, sure. Maybe she’s asking about her perfume again? What, is she sellin’ perfume or something?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him, making him chuckle softly despite himself.

Shaking his head, Joel leans back against the booth, his fingers still brushing your shoulder. “Enough about Tess. I’ve got some good news, actually.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head, curiosity sparking in your eyes. “What is it?”

Joel takes a breath, his eyes meeting yours as if he’s savoring the moment. “The cops dropped your dad’s report. Said you’re old enough to make your own choices. They had witnesses backin’ it up. They’re sayin’ it wasn’t kidnapping—you came with me willingly.”

"Baby, we're free." He said again.

The words hit you like a rush of wind, and for a moment, you just stare at him, processing what he’s said. Slowly, your face breaks into the biggest smile, your heart soaring with joy and relief. You let out a small scream of excitement, throwing your arms around Joel.

“Oh my God, Joel! You’re free! We’re free!” You hug him tightly, burying your face in his neck, your heart pounding with happiness. “Finally, finally we can go anywhere, do anything, and not worry about them coming after us!”

Joel wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and you can feel the tension leaving his body, the weight of it finally lifting. There’s a sense of freedom now, a door opening where there once was none.

Joel wraps his arms tighter around you as you excitedly chatter about the future—the life you’ve both dreamed of in California. You’re beaming, your words spilling out in an excited rush.

“Oh my God, Joel! We could build that sheep ranch you’ve always wanted! I could grow a garden—vegetables, herbs, everything! I’d cook and bake for you from our own garden, send Bill and Frank strawberries like I promised Frank! And Ellie could visit, stay with us whenever she wants. We could—”

You pause, breathless, as Joel chuckles softly, watching you with fondness in his eyes. His chest rises and falls with the rhythm of his slow breaths, but as your voice fades, something shifts in him. His smile falters.

You see his gaze drift over your shoulder, his brows furrowing as if he’s spotted something—or someone. His body tenses again, his grip loosening on you. His face turns pale.

“Joel?” You tilt your head, noticing the change in him. He looks past you, his eyes widening ever so slightly.

Behind you, to him, two figures stand—figures that shouldn’t be here. Jamie and Ben. Their faces are ghostly pale, staring back at Joel as if accusing him, their expressions twisted in a mixture of anger and sorrow. He blinks, trying to shake the image, his heart beginning to race.

No. No fucking way.

He looks again, but they’re gone. Vanished as if they were never there, just figments of his mind. Sweat forms on his brow, his breathing quickening. What the hell is going on? Why is he seeing them?

“Joel?” Your voice pulls him back to reality, concern written across your face. “You okay?”

Joel swallows hard, his chest tight, trying to steady his breathing. He forces a weak smile, but his eyes still dart around nervously, as if expecting the figures to return. “Yeah, baby. I’m… I’m fine.”

But his heartbeat betrays him. That vision, those faces—they still linger, like shadows at the edges of his mind.

You turn your head, glancing behind you, eyes searching the space Joel had been staring at so intensely. "What are you looking at?" you ask, your curiosity piqued by his sudden change in demeanor.

Joel shakes his head, a quick smile spreading across his face, hiding the flicker of fear still curling in his chest. "Nothin’, baby. Just… nothin’." He dismisses it, brushing the hallucination aside like a bad dream. "What were you sayin’? I like hearin’ about your plans for us."

You smile softly, sensing he doesn't want to ruin the moment, so you let it go. But the thought you’ve been carrying for so long lingers on the tip of your tongue. You’ve always wanted a family, a home filled with love and warmth. You know you’re young, but you dream of little feet running around, laughter filling the rooms—a family with Joel.

But you’ve never said it out loud, too scared to ask if he’d want more children. You’re afraid of the weight his past might carry, the pain of losing his daughter still etched deeply into his soul. What if he doesn’t want to marry you? The uncertainty gnaws at you, so instead of voicing your fears, you ask, "Where’s the news from?"

Joel glances over at you, his hand brushing your knee. "Tommy called. We’re meetin’ him in Miami in four days, but first we’re headin’ to Richmond, then Charlotte, Atlanta, and finally Miami."

You brighten, excited by the plan. "Is Ellie coming with him?"

Joel shrugs, "I dunno, maybe. Haven’t heard."

Just as your excitement peaks, the food arrives, and the conversation shifts into lighter territory over pancakes and coffee.

After breakfast, you head back to the motel, and before long, you find yourselves tangled in each other’s arms, making love again as the sun streams through the windows. The intimacy feels like a quiet surrender, an unspoken promise to each other.

Later, you take a shower together, laughing as water trickles down your skin, and then you check out of the motel. Bags in hand, you toss them into the back of the car, getting ready for the drive to Richmond.

As you settle into the passenger seat, you slip on the matching sunglasses you and Joel bought in Pennsylvania last week. You lift your feet onto the dashboard, wiggling them to the rhythm of Dolly Parton’s voice spilling from the radio. Joel glances at you, his heart skipping a beat as he sees you all carefree, a vision of wild freedom beside him.

“Four hours to Richmond, right?” you ask, looking over at him.

“Yeah,” Joel nods, his eyes still on the road. “We’ll stop at a gas station, grab you some snacks. I need to hit the bank too.”

You turn to him, raising an eyebrow. “The bank? What for?”

“Gotta make a new card,” Joel explains. “Money’s runnin’ low, and Tommy’s gonna send us what we need.”

You tilt your head, teasing, “Joel, you didn’t work. Where’s the money even coming from?”

Joel chuckles softly, glancing your way. “It’s still my company, darlin’. Even if Tommy’s runnin’ it, I’m still gettin’ my cut. Just haven’t been using cards, tryin’ to stay off the radar, you know?”

You smirk, biting into your bubble gum. “Wow, Joel, you sound like my sugar daddy now.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Now where’d you learn a word like that?”

“The song,” you giggle, the playful tone lifting the mood even further.

Joel shoots you a sideways glance, teasing, “You sure do like callin’ me ‘daddy,’ don’t you, sweetheart?”

Your cheeks flush, the heat creeping up your neck. “Stop it, Joel,” you mumble, embarrassed but laughing.

Joel isn’t done teasing, his grin widening. “What’s the matter, baby? Gettin’ shy now?”

You melt into your seat, trying to hide your smile. “Joel, stop,” you say again, but there’s no real weight to it. You’re grinning ear to ear.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself, and you lightly smack his arm. “Ow, ow!” Joel laughs, pretending to wince as he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. “Honey, I’m drivin’ here!”

You shake your head, laughing with him, feeling light and free. The road ahead stretches out endlessly, like a new beginning.

Eventually, you pull up to a gas station. You hop out of the car, asking Joel for money to grab snacks while he fills up the tank. He hands you a couple of bills, his eyes still distant, lost in thought. His mind drifts back to Jamie and Ben, those ghostly figures still haunting the edges of his vision, like shadows slipping through the cracks of his reality.

He pumps the gas, staring blankly at the numbers ticking up on the pump, but in his mind, those faces linger—faces of the dead, reminders of a past that refuses to stay buried. The heat of the day wraps around him, but Joel feels a cold sweat trickling down his back.

No matter how hard he tries to shake it, the memory of Ben and Jamie pulls at him like a chain, dragging him down, making it hard to breathe.

His thoughts tangle and twist, a labyrinth of dread and confusion. Ben and Jamie—they haunt him like specters, their faces floating at the edges of his consciousness like reflections on a disturbed pond, rippling but never quite vanishing.

He tries to shake it off, like you would a bad dream clinging too tightly. But no matter how much he tells himself it's nothing, just fatigue, the feeling digs in deeper, like a chain wrapped around his lungs, squeezing with every breath. 

Why now? Why are they showing up like this, like ghosts clawing their way into his reality?

Something bad’s coming. 

Joel can feel it in his bones. It’s the way the sky seems too bright, too still, the air too thick with heat and tension. His hand tightens on the gas pump as he fills the tank, but his mind drifts back to the possibility of pills—just a few to calm his nerves, help him sleep, something to keep him grounded.

It’s been too long since he last swallowed the bitterness of them, too long since he tried to hold back the nightmares that seem to be creeping in from every angle.

As the tank clicks full, Joel locks up the truck and walks into the store, spotting you instantly. You’re at the counter, smiling as you talk to the cashier—a guy in his mid-30s, with a casual grin that’s a little too friendly.

Joel sees the way the man’s eyes linger on you, sizing you up like you’re a prize to be won. You’re polite, not flirting back, but Joel knows that look in the guy’s eyes all too well.

His jaw tightens as he walks over, the air between him and the cashier thickening with unspoken tension. “Hey,” he murmurs, sliding an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

He makes sure the cashier can see the possessiveness in the way he holds you, a silent claim staked like a flag in the ground. “You got all you need?”

You nod, oblivious to the tension, “Yeah. You need anything else?”

“Yeah, but you wait in the truck,” Joel says, his voice calm, but there’s an edge to it, like a storm gathering on the horizon. You smile, thank the cashier, and head out, leaving Joel to face the man alone.

Joel steps closer to the counter, his voice low, “I need somethin' for sleep—pills. And somethin' for anxiety.”

The cashier looks him over, sizing him up, then slides a small bottle across the counter. “This one’s a big dose,” the guy says, cocking an eyebrow. “You sure you can handle it?”

“Just gimme the damn pills,” Joel mutters, pulling out his wallet.

As he’s counting out the bills, the cashier’s grin widens. “She’s a pretty little thing, huh? You’re a lucky man.”

Joel’s fingers freeze on the money, his pulse quickening. He doesn’t look up, trying to focus on the task, willing himself to ignore it. Not worth it.

“Where’d you get her?” the cashier continues, a smug edge to his voice. “I like me some of that, you know? Look at those tits and that slim little—”

Before the words are fully out of the man’s mouth, Joel’s hand is at his throat, gripping his shirt by the collar, yanking him forward across the counter. The cashier’s eyes widen in shock as Joel’s face inches closer, the fury in his gaze barely contained.

“What’d you say?” Joel’s voice is low, dangerous. His grip tightens, and the cashier's breath hitches in fear. “I swear to God, I’ll kill you if you ever talk about her like that again.”

The cashier stammers, eyes darting around, looking for an escape. “I’m sorry, man! I didn’t mean it—I’m sorry!”

Joel’s fist flies before he can think twice, smashing into the man’s nose with a sickening crack. Blood spills immediately, and the cashier clutches his face, whining in pain as Joel steps back, grabbing the pills and tossing the cash on the counter.

As Joel turns to leave, something catches his eye—a muted TV screen hanging in the corner of the store. The news is on, and a reporter’s voice echoes faintly through the store,

“Another body has been found, a young girl has been mutilated beyond recognition, suspected to be the work of the cannibal killer last seen in Chicago. The remains were discovered this morning in West Virginia… The suspect seen to be a caucasian man in his late 40s or ealy 50s, always wearing black leather jacket."

But Joel’s not listening about the suspect's characteristic. His head is still buzzing with adrenaline, his mind too consumed with the memory of the cashier’s words, the sickening way he talked about you. His grip on the pills tightens as he pushes through the door and heads to the truck.

You’re already sitting inside, looking up as he approaches. “What did you buy?” you ask, your voice light and curious.

Joel forces a smile, tucking the pills into his jacket pocket. “Just vitamins,” he says, climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. The truck rumbles to life beneath them, but his heart is still racing from the encounter inside.

You hum, seemingly content with the answer, as the sound of Patsy Cline’s “Lovesick Blues” fills the cab. You chew your bubble gum, tapping your foot to the beat, oblivious to the storm brewing in Joel’s chest. He glances over at you, trying to let the sight of you melt the tension away, but it clings to him like the humidity in the air.

Joel grips the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road ahead as the truck pulls out of the gas station, heading toward Richmond. The past clings to him like a shadow, and even though he’s beside you, it feels like something darker is lurking just out of sight, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

***

The sun rises softly over Richmond, casting a golden glow that warms the pavement and the hearts of those wandering its streets. It feels like the city has wrapped you and Joel in a cozy embrace, the air thick with the scent of blooming magnolias and fresh coffee from the little café you found tucked away in a corner. The day unfolds like a beautiful tapestry, woven with laughter and stolen glances.

You spent the morning wandering through the cobblestone streets, hand in hand with Joel, sharing stories and dreams. The laughter you both shared echoed like a sweet melody, a contrast to the heaviness that often hung over your heads. You visited the local art museum, marvelling at vibrant canvases that danced with color, each brushstroke inviting you to lose yourself in its depths. Later, you strolled along the riverbank, watching the water glisten like scattered diamonds under the sun.

As the day drifted into a golden sunset, you found a small restaurant with outdoor seating. Candlelight flickered against the evening breeze, and the two of you shared a plate of garlic shrimp and creamy risotto, the flavors rich and comforting, like the connection growing between you. Joel looked at you, his gaze softening as if the world around you faded into a mere whisper, leaving only the warmth of the moment.

But now, as the sun rose on a new day, the horizon painted with the soft pastels of dawn, you were packing up, getting ready to hit the road again.

Joel had decided to skip Charlotte, choosing instead to spend two days in Atlanta before go to Miami, a fresh adventure that sparked a glimmer of excitement in your heart.

You could feel the anticipation buzzing in the air as he loaded up the truck, your spirits buoyed by the sweet memories of the previous day.

Two hours into the drive, the truck hummed steadily along the highway, classic rock filling the cab. The Eagles’ “Hotel California” danced through the air like an old friend, familiar and comforting.

Joel’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the steering wheel, a steady cadence that matched the beating of your heart. His face was focused, a portrait of concentration as the road stretched endlessly ahead, a ribbon of asphalt winding through the landscape.

You’re curled up in the passenger seat, your new book, The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, in your lap. The words flow over you like a gentle stream, pulling you into a world where everything feels deeply real and beautifully haunting. As you read, the scenery rushes past the window—rolling hills painted in hues of green and gold, sprawling fields dotted with wildflowers dancing in the breeze, and the occasional farmhouse that looks like it stepped straight out of a postcard.

But something gnaws at Joel, the peace of the day shattered by an uncomfortable weight. He glances in the rearview mirror, a frown creasing his brow. A black car has been shadowing them since they left the motel in Richmond, its presence lurking like a dark cloud on a clear day. Not this again. The feeling is suffocating, tightening his chest as he thinks, Not this time. Just a coincidence.

Yet, as he studies the mirror, he can’t shake the uneasy feeling creeping in like shadows at dusk. Every time he thinks he might catch a glimpse of the driver’s face, the car swerves slightly, as if intentionally avoiding his gaze, slipping back into obscurity like a thief in the night. He mentally jots down the car’s license plate, the idea of keeping tabs on it soothing some of his fraying nerves.

“Doll,” he called softly, his voice breaking through your thoughts. You looked up from your book, "Hm?" a quizzical expression on your face.

“Can you help me with something?”

“What is it?” you asked, closing the book and focusing on him.

“Grab me a notepad and a pen, would ya? I want to note that plate number. Just in case.”

Your heart quickened as you registered the seriousness in his tone. Nodding, you scrambled to comply, shoving the book into your bag and grabbing the notepad from the glove compartment.

As Joel spelled out the license plate, you scribbled it down, your fingers moving quickly, the urgency palpable.

“Got it?” he asked, eyes still trained on the road.

“Yeah,” you replied, handing him the notepad.

He took it with his right hand, glancing at the rearview mirror again. But as his eyes locked with the driver, the black car swerved away, vanishing into the distance like a shadow at sunset.

“Who’s that?” you ask, fear creeping into your voice as you look back, your heart racing at the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Joel’s jaw tightens, his mind racing. “I don’t know,” But even as he says it, the gnawing feeling persists, echoing in the silence between you.

He glances back at you, trying to calm the storm brewing in your eyes. “It’s okay. Just… keep that notepad in the truck, alright? Just in case he comes back.”

You nod, your unease palpable as you ask again, “Who is that, Joel?”

“It’s okay. Just some dude,” he reassures you, though the lie sits heavy on his tongue. It feels like he’s been following them since the motel.

You then telling him about the strange encounter with Negan in the church couple of days ago in West Virginia, how he seemed overly interested in your well-being, asking questions that made your skin crawl.

"It's funny how he always wear black leather jacket," you say

But Joel doesn’t hear you at all. His mind is miles away, tangled in dark thoughts about the car and the possibility that he’s being watched, that they might know about Ben and Jamie, that they suspect him. The shadows of his past loom larger with every mile they travel, threatening to swallow him whole.

The landscape shifts outside the truck’s window, fields giving way to towering trees that line the road like sentinels. Each passing mile is a testament to the journey you’re on together, yet the shadows linger, a reminder that safety is often an illusion, and sometimes the monsters are real.

[marvelgurl789fanfics]

Remy Lebeau (Gambit) x Child OC

(Remy Lebeau (Gambit) x Rogue)

~Safe~

Warning: angst, mentions of child abuse, injuries

(Not the best at grammar or punctuation)

Summary: The X-Men get information on a new mutant holding facility being built. Remy finds the building has a prisoner already a very small one at that.

Masterlist:

~~~~~

The X-Men were on the Blackbird on the way to some mutant sentinel holding facility being build in some desert, Gambit stopped paying attention to Scott’s speech on this place after getting the gist of it. Go in destroy the place, don’t get killed easy. Gambit had found a much more interesting way to spend the flight than listening to Scott go on, Rogue’s legs looked mighty fine crossed like that as she listened to the mission brief, ‘What Remy would give to touch those fine legs, what a way to go out’ Remy thought to himself with the knowledge of her skin being a death sentence within seconds.

Feeling eyes on him Gambit lifted his gazes from Rogue’s legs to her eyes glaring at him. “Will you pay attention” she scolded him, “Sorry, Cher. Gambit got lost in thought” he smiled at her. Rogue rolled her eyes with a small smile forming on her lips “I know what kind of thoughts you’re having right now Cajun” she scolded in a teasing manner, earning a grin from Remy. “If you two are done we’re about to land” Wolverine groan, amusement in his eyes despite his tone of voice.

They landed a bit of a walk from the location with there being no cover in the sand left little choice. “Once inside me and Jean will head to the security room. Storm keep your eyes on the sky and watch for possible reinforcements. Wolverine, Morph take to the east wing and search for any prisoners in the holding cells. Gambit, Rogue go west and search the labs and destroy any files they have of mutants.” Scott said as they approached the base. The X-Men rushed the base and knocking out what few guards there and split into their groups.

Breaking into the base’s lab Rouge and Gambit took out the guards, most of the scientists chose to flee than fight back. The lab was soon empty besides the knocked out guards on the floor. Rogue went to the computer and began destroying files, while Gambit started with the paper files charging them and destroying the paper with small explosions. “Cells are all clear” Wolverine came from their communications link, “Well except the guards, who are not liking their new home” Morph snickered. “Good, Storm how are things looking?” Jean asked. “The sky remains clear” Storm informed. “We’re done here too, Gambit, Rogue how are things going there?” Scott asked. “All good sugar, we just finished with the files” Rogue answered walking over to Gambit who just finished with the paper files. “Then let’s get out of here, regroup at the Blackbird” Scott ordered.

“Shall we Swamp Rat?” Rogue teased heading for the exit, Gambit was going to say something sassy back but heard a whimpering and stopped in his tracks. “What is it?” Rogue stopped as well noticing Gambit’s smile drop from his pretty face. “Don’t know Cher, but Gambit heard a noise” Gambit said moving to where he heard the sound. After a few steps around the lab equipment there was what looked like a dog create with a little girl who looked no older than three shaking in fear curled up cowering in the back of the cage. Gambit felt like the world froze thinking of what kind of monster would do this to a child, a sharp gasp from Rogue shook him from his shock.

Gambit dropped to his knee’s immediately breaking the weak lock opening the cage door. The small girls eye widened with fear once the door opened. “It’s ok mon Cheri, Gambit won’t hurt you none” Gambit said as gently as he could taking in the girl appearance for the first time. The small child had light green scale starting at her cheeks down to the sides of her neck mixing with her pale skin, her scales seemed to go down the tops on her arms and hands. Messy dark blonde hair with scales at her hairline, pure golden eye with slit irises reminding him of a cat’s eyes. The girl was wearing torn and dirtied clothes. She looked at him with a mix of fear and curiosity, slowly starting to uncurl herself. The child kept her eye focused on Gambit’s every move ready to retreat if he made any sudden movements. “Gambit just want to help you” he said very slowly reaching his hand out for the girl to take it.

After a moments of hesitation from the child, she took his hand and he gently led her from the cage. Once the girl was out of the cage and in the light of the room Rogue and Gambit noticed the bruises coving the girls body and her favoring her left leg. “Oh sugar!” Rogue said with heartbreak clear in her voice but choosing to keep still not wanting to frighten the already terrified child. “Gambit get you outta here” Gambit said slowing getting to his feet and picking up the child holding her to his chest. The girl flinched at first of being lifted off the ground but quickly relaxed tucked to his chest. “Let’s get to the ship, she as cold as ice” gambit said heading for the exit wrapping the side of his coat around the girls small body, Rogue quickly followed after him.

Once they reached the Blackbird it seemed the rest of the team was waiting for them. “What took you slow pokes so, oh who this” Morph teased then noticing the child in Gambit’s arms, getting the whole team looking at the small child. “Gambit found her locked in a cage right before we left” Rogue explained. Jean walked over to Gambit and the child gently putting her hand on the girls back, making the child flinch and bury her face into Gambit’s chest shaking trying to cling to him for dear life. “It’s ok mon Cheri, no one gonna hurt ya now” Gambit soothed.

The whole flight back the girl refused to let go of Gambit. Quiet discussions between the team about the mission and the child went unnoticed by Gambit, trying to soothe the scared child who found comfort in him for reasons he would never understand. Five minutes from the school the girl was fast asleep still cuddled up to him, “The child seems to like you” Storm commented. Gambit looked up from the sleeping girl on his lap “Who doesn’t like Gambit” he joked trying to deny the comment. ‘Of course she likes me for now Remy found her’ he thought to himself. “I usually don’t like sharing but I can make an acceptation for this little girl” Rogue teased coming behind Gambit’s chair racking her gloved hand through his hair. “Don’t know Cher, she might not want to share Gambit with you” Gambit teased back enjoying his hair being played with.

The Blackbird landed in the hanger, the team filling out “Take our little guest to get check out by Beast, we’ll talk to the professor” Scott said to Gambit. The girl still had a death grip on Remy’s jacket even in deep sleep and nobody had the heart to separate the girl from her object of comfort even in this case the object being Remy himself. “If she’ll let go of Gambit long enough to let Beast” Gambit joked walking to the med bay with the sleeping child in his arms. A few steps from the med bay the girl jolted awake panic clear on face. “Mon Cheri, Gambit right here, you’re safe” stopping in his tracks for a moment to clam the child, the girl relaxed into his chest once again while he walked to the med bay.

“Gambit nice to see you in one piece, who this little one.” Beast greeted as the med bay door shut behind them. “Gambit found her while on our mission, she’s pretty beat up” Gambit said unconsciously rubbing the girls back in comforting circles, “I see, let me take a look” Beast nodded in understanding and gestured to the medical cot. Gambit gently sat the girl on the cot but her death grip on his coat remained “it’s ok Gambit promise not to go no where” Gambit gently convinced the child to let go and as promised stood to the side but still in view of her. “Hello I’m Dr.McCoy, what might your name be?” Beast greeted the child kindly being careful not to spook the child who kept looking at Gambit for reassurance.

“F-63” came a small shy voice after a moment of silence. “Is that what those people called you before Gambit found you” Gambit spoke up earning a slow nod from the girl. “I see, do you know how old you are?” Beast asked her, the girl just held up three fingers. “Ok, little one I’m just gonna take a look at your injuries. Is that ok?” Beast asking the girl, and after the girl received a nod of approval from Gambit she gave Beast a nod of her own. Beast looked over the girl carefully explaining to the child exactly what he was doing to not startle her. “Noticed her favoring her left leg” Gambit said getting Beast attention. Beast took a look at the girls right leg then gave the girl a smile “That wasn’t so bad” Beast said earning a nod again from the girl then coaxing the girl to lay back on the cot and relax.

“How she looking?” Gambit asked quietly for the girl not the hear, “where to start, on closer inspection the bruises appear to be from needles being them injections or IVs it’s hard to tell. Her leg is not broken but is severely sprained, and then the girl seems to be very undernourished and dehydrated.” Beast informed keeping his voice down as well. Hearing this felt like a kick to Gambit’s gut, “usually I would set up an IV to help with the dehydration, but giving the situation I think it would do more harm than good” Beast continued. A knock on the med bay door got their attention, the door slipping open as the professor and Rogue entering the latter holding a tray. “Hello Gambit, Beast can I talk to you for a moment of the girls well being” Xavier said going back in the hall with Beast now following in toe.

Gambit walk back the child who kept looking at him with pleading eyes “Everything gonna be just fine mon Cheri” her promised gently brushing some of her messy hair from her face. “Hello again sugar I thought you might be hungry” Rogue said setting the tray within the girls reach. The girl looked at the tray containing a pb&j sandwich cut into four small pieces of and a glass of milk, looking at Gambit and getting a nod from him, the girl started to slowly eat the sandwich. “If you’re still hungry after this there’s plenty more” Rogue smiled at the girl. “Did you learn her name?” Rogue asked turning her attention to Remy. “F-63, but that’s no name” Gambit said a bit bitterly but kept his voice down for just for Rogue to hear. Rogue hummed in thought turning to the girl “sugar do you like the name F-63.” She asked the girl who was now chugging the milk, the girl paused her drinking and shook her head no at Rogue’s question.

Remy let out a light chuckle at the child who now had milk dripping from her face, “did you get any in your mouth.” He grabbed a tissue from the side table and gently whipped the girl mouth earning a giggle from the girl. Rogue’s heart swelled that their interaction “What about Fiona?” Rogue asked the girl who stopped giggling. “Fiona does have a nice ring to it no?” Gambit said. The girl pointed to herself “Fiona?” She asked looking to the two adults watching her. “If you want that name” Rogue smiled to the child earning a nod and a slightly more confident Fiona from the girl. “A very beautiful name Mon Cheri” Gambit said to Fiona with a smile.

The Professor and Beast entered the med bay once again, Xavier now making his way to the child and Gambit and Rogue stepping aside. “Hello F-63, I’m Charles Xavier” he greeted the girl with a smile, “Fiona” Fiona responded immediately earning a raised eyebrow from Beast and Xavier. “Rogue and Gambit may have helped her with a new name” Gambit said rubbing the back of this neck. “Well Fiona is a much lovelier name” Xavier said with amusement turning to Fiona once again. “Do you know where your parents might be.” Xavier asked gently probing the girls mind. The girl gave a confused look tilting her head to the side pointing to Gambit “Papa?” Fiona said making Gambit slightly choke on air, and Rogue trying to keep from laughing. “The other did say she took quite the liking to you” Xavier chuckled as well.

“All of her memories are of the lab, my guess would be her parents gave her up when she was born cause of her appearance. For now she’ll be staying here at the school, and Gambit I hate to put you in this position but it seems she find comfort in you. Can I trust her to your care for now?” Xavier said to the group telepathically. “Gambit will play the caretaker for Mon Cheri” Gambit agreed aloud, with a nod and a smile to Fiona Xavier left. “For the time being I think it would be best for her to stay in the med bay, so I can keep an eye on her injuries. I’ll find more suitable clothes for her” Beast said leaving the med bay as well.

Fiona started to blink tiredly struggling to stay awake, Remy moved the now empty tray to the side and covered the girl up more with the blanket on the cot. As the girl’s eyes closed Gambit felt arms wrapping around him from behind “I think this will be a good thing, I think you make a good daddy” Rogue teased whispering in his ear, making a blush cover his face and spread to his ears.

~~~~~

I plan to make a part 2

Part 2

[romerona]

Stellar Veil

In which a star falls in Westeros.

Cregan Stark x reader????

Words 1.7k

The night draped Westeros in its customary shroud, stars flickering like cold diamonds against the dark tapestry of the sky. And yet, amidst this celestial dance, a singular brilliance unfolded—a comet, resplendent in its fiery tail, streaked boldly across the heavens.

In King's Landing, where ambition and conspiracy brewed as thick as the city's smog, the Red Keep stood sentinel against the cosmic display. Nobles and commoners alike were drawn to its battlements and gardens, their faces upturned in wonder and trepidation. The comet's golden glow suffused the city, casting shadows that danced across cobblestones and whispered secrets into the night.

Far to the west, where the Iron Islands gripped the tempestuous seas, sailors paused in their dance with the waves. From the deck of every longship, weathered faces turned skyward, witnessing the comet's passage mirrored in the restless waters below. Above them, the ancient castle of Pyke seemed to hold its breath, its jagged silhouette outlined against the blaze.

Across the tumultuous waters of the Narrow Sea, the comet's brilliance reflected off the prow of Braavosi merchant ships and the galleys of the Free Cities. Sailors, traders and slaves hardened by salt and sea, paused in their endless voyages to witness this divine occurrence.

In the Reach, where the verdant fields of Highgarden stretched beneath a canopy of stars, peasants and nobles alike paused. They gazed heavenward, their hearts filled with awe and mistrust, as tales danced upon their lips.

And in the North, where the night was as black as obsidian and the stars burned with an icy intensity, the comet blazed its final path. Its light pierced the veil of mist hanging over the haunted forest and the desolate lands beyond. There, amidst the sentinel trees and the solemn silence of the far North, the comet's radiance flared brightly before vanishing beyond the horizon.

South of the Wall, in the desolate expanse known as the Gift, the comet's descent shattered the silence of the frozen wilderness with fierce force. A blinding flash of light, brighter than the pale moon above, rent the night asunder. The ground trembled violently beneath the celestial impact, sending shockwaves rippling through the thick crust of snow that covered the ancient land.

As the earth ceased its violent tremors, silence descended upon the northern wilderness like a heavy cloak. The Night's Watch, vigilant guardians of the Wall and the realms of men, stood amidst the aftermath of the comet's impact, their faces etched with awe and apprehension.

Commander Ulric Rivers, a grizzled veteran of many winters, surveyed the scene with a mixture of curiosity and concern. His voice cut through the lingering echoes of the crash, commanding attention from the assembled rangers.

"Brothers," he intoned, his words carrying the weight of authority earned through years of service beyond the Wall. "Gather your gear. We must survey the impact site."

The rangers, seasoned men clad in black with weapons and fur-trimmed cloaks, exchanged glances of determination. Among them, Harald Snow, a knight of the Watch known for his keen eye and steady hand, stepped forward.

"Commander," Ser Harald spoke, his voice steady despite the tension that hung in the air, "We will go. We'll bring back word of what we find, true as steel."

Commander Ulric nodded in approval, his expression grim but resolute. "Go swiftly, and return with all haste. The hour is late."

With that, the rangers set forth, the horses steps crunch on the icy ground as they ventured towards the crater that marked the comet's violent descent. Behind them, the rest of the Night's Watch remained vigilant, their eyes trained upon the northern horizon where the comet's trail still lingered faintly in the night sky.

The rangers approached the crater cautiously, their breath visible in the frigid air as they navigated the transformed landscape. The snow around the impact site had melted into a steaming morass, revealing scorched earth and jagged fragments of rock still glowing faintly with residual heat. The air hummed with a strange, palpable energy, casting an otherworldly glow over the scene.

Ser Jaremy Woodbear, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, led the way with Harald Snow close behind. Their sharp eyes scanned their surroundings, taking in every detail with the precision of a seasoned watchman. Beside them, Alexio Stone, a stoic figure with weathered features and a keen intellect, knelt to examine a particularly large fragment of rock that jutted from the ground like a blackened tooth.

"Careful now," Harald Snow cautioned, his voice a low murmur that carried on the wind. "We don't know what this rock may hold. Keep your wits about you."

Ser Jaremy Woodbear, ever vigilant, was the first to notice the form inside the crater—a woman.

"Ser Harald, come, there's a woman..." Jaremy called out quietly, his voice carrying a note of awe and uncertainty.

Harald Snow hurried to his side, his eyes narrowing as he beheld the scene before him. Nestled amidst the charred remnants of the comet's impact lay a figure unlike any he had seen in his years ranging away from the Wall. A woman, an ethereal woman. Her skin seemed to shimmer with a faint glow, casting gentle reflections upon the jagged rocks that surrounded her.

"Gods be good," Harald muttered under his breath, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword. "What in the name of the Seven Kingdoms...?"

Alexio Stone slowly made his way down and knelt beside the woman, his weathered hands hovering uncertainly above her prone form. "She... she's glowing,"

The woman lay still, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that seemed out of place amidst the chaos of the impact site. Her hair, a cascade that shimmered like moonlight, framed a face that could have graced the halls of the most illustrious castles in Westeros. Despite the harshness of her surroundings, an air of tranquility radiated from her presence, as if she were untouched by the violence that had torn through the night.

"She does not seem a threat. We'll take her back to Castle Black,” Harald decided finally, his gaze lingering upon the woman's enigmatic form. "Ser Jaremy, help me carry her."

With careful hands, the ranger lifted the unconscious woman from the heart of the crater, cradling her as gently as if she were made of glass. Her ethereal glow seemed to pulse faintly in response to the touch, but as they traveled, the ethereal glow that had surrounded her began to dim, fading like the dying embers of a once brilliant fire. Her radiant presence dwindled until she appeared as any ordinary woman, though her beauty still held a haunting quality that spoke of otherworldly origins.

Harald Snow glanced at her intermittently, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "Keep an eye on her," he instructed the rangers quietly, his voice carrying a rare note of uncertainty. "We know not what we carry."

The journey back to Castle Black was fraught with quiet tension, each step echoing with the weight of their extraordinary discovery. The woman remained unconscious, her features peaceful yet arcane as if she carried secrets woven into the very fabric of her being.

As the gates of Castle Black creaked open to admit the weary party, all eyes turned towards the mysterious woman cradled in the arms of Ser Jaremy Woodbear and his fellow rangers. The men of the Night's Watch gathered in hushed clusters, their faces etched with curiosity and apprehension as they beheld the ethereal beauty now brought within their walls. Commander Ulric Rivers stepped forward to greet them, his brow furrowed in stern inquiry. His gaze locked onto the woman.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ulric Rivers demanded, his voice cutting through the murmurs that had begun to ripple through the assembled ranks. His eyes narrowed with suspicion, though beneath the stern exterior, there flickered a hint of curiosity and perhaps even concern.

Harald Snow, unwavering in the face of his superior's scrutiny, stepped forward with measured resolve. "We found her at the site of the comet's impact," he explained evenly, his tone betraying none of the awe he felt at the mysterious woman's presence thought he hesitated to continue. "She… appeared to be glowing.”

The courtyard fell silent as the gravity of their discovery settled over the assembled brothers. Whispers filled the air, mingling with the chill wind that swept down from the Wall, most not believing, saying it was a wildling woman, others whispering about sorcery.

Ulric Rivers approached the woman with cautious steps, his gaze assessing her with a mixture of scepticism and a begrudging acknowledgement of the inexplicable. Her ethereal beauty was undeniable—a stark contrast to the rugged surroundings of the ancient stronghold. Her hair, a shade that shimmered iridescently in the torchlight, cascaded around her like a flowing waterfall of sapphire strands. It was a hue unlike any he had seen before.

Her attire was equally unusual—a gown of fine fabric that seemed to shift and shimmer with every movement, as if woven from threads spun by the stars themselves. Its design was intricate, with patterns that hinted at craftsmanship far beyond the skills known to the realms of Westeros.

Ulric Rivers frowned, his thoughts racing with speculation. "This is no wildling," he muttered under his breath, his voice a gruff murmur that carried a note of wonder. "Nor any woman of our lands."

Beside Ulric, Harald Snow exchanged a meaningful glance with Ser Jaremy Woodbear and Alexio Stone. They had seen many things in their years on the Wall, but none quite like this.

"Should we remove her gown?" Harald asked quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. That statement earn a hum of agreement from the men around them.

However, Ulric shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the woman. "No, leave her be for now, we'll keep her under watch until we have answers. Lord Stark will need to hear of this. Prepare quarters for her," he instructed, his tone firm despite the uncertainty that gnawed at the edges of his command. "And summon the Maester. We'll need his counsel."

With practiced efficiency, ser Jaremy Woodbear carried the woman to a chamber within Castle Black, where torchlight flickered against the ancient stone walls and cast long shadows across the floor. And above them, the stars continued their eternal dance, oblivious to the upheaval their celestial sibling had wrought upon the realm of men.

Part 2?????

A/N: The story is inspired by Stardust by Neil Gaiman.

I’m still unsure who is the main LI will be but Cregan is top 3.

And while it's an Xreader I will be describing the hair colour and eyes. But just that.

[assortedseaglass]

Borne & Bound - I

Aemond Targaryen x OFC

[Masterlist]

Summary: When Prince Aemond insults the commander of the Braedel cavalry, Viserys sends him to their kingdom so that he may learn the art of diplomacy and do battle with the commander herself, the spirited Lady Geowyth.

Content Warnings: Strong Language, Violence, Smut, Canon-typical Sexism, Mentions of Incest¸ Mentions of Sexual Assault

Word Count: 2.6K

Note: Just a little intro chapter. This is completely canon divergent. I am rubbish at intricate plotting and relatively new to this fandom. This idea has been rummaging around for a good while in my head, and it’s time to put it into action. If you do want an amazingly plotted, political Aemond Targaryen story, please please please read You Were Always With Me by @myfandomprompts. I was on tenterhooks for every upload, it’s a masterfully crafted story with complex character analysis and so many tense and thrilling moments. I adored it!

I think many people have done this, but I’ve aged up the Targaryen children to their mid-twenties.

“Pay attention,”

“It’s too fucking hot,”

“Be quiet!”

Casting his eye over his sister’s head, Aemond watched his mother and brother hiss lowly to each other. The afternoon was hot. Oppressively so. The clock tower above the sept chimed, marking an hour since they had appeared on the barbican steps, and an hour of passive bickering. A mustard butterfly flew across his face, and he looked down to see Helaena’s mournful gaze follow it. She smiled at him half-heartedly and turned back to the crowded steps as Ser Harrold’s voice carried over them.

“Lord Jason, of House Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Ward of the West.”

In a sweep of embroidered velvet, Ser Tyland moved from his sentinel behind the royal family to greet his twin and the other members of his house.

“Lord Borros, of House Baratheon, Lord of Storms End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands.”

The list of houses was endless. Despite the Targaryen proclivity for heat, even Aemond could feel a trickle of sweat journey its way along his spine. Thunder rumbled around the walls of the barbican and the gathered crowd stirred. Aemond cast his eye upwards, and the clear sky stared back.

“It won’t rain,” came Helaena’s soft voice beside him. Still Aemond watched the sky. “They would let us know.” At this, he turned to his sister. She was pointing to a beetle on the stone steps. A little way off, a sparrow watched it with glinting eyes.

“Mmm,” his eye moved to Aegon, who had stopped his fussing to listen to his sister-wife. He rolled his eyes at Aemond, who ignored him and turned slowly back to the approaching nobles. The youngest Baratheon girl gasped as his eye moved over her, and she inched closer to her sisters. The stiff leather of this doublet hid his sigh, for Aemond was used to this response, especially from the younger women of the court. On his eighteenth nameday, he decided once and for all to forgo the ugly eyepatch he wore to cover his disfigurement. The serving boy acting as his valet made to place the patch over his braided hair, when the young prince grasped his wrist.    

“Not tonight,”

The boy bowed and left the prince to his chambers. In the candlelight of the room, the sapphire in place of the prince’s missing eye shone vivid and the violet of the other, so famed in Targaryen lore, looked dull by comparison. With one last glance at his reflection, Aemond smoothed his green tunic, flicked the unbraided strands of blond hair over his shoulder, and made his solitary way to the feast. How rude of him, to keep his guests waiting.

With excited steps, he hurried through the keep and to the throne room. A few maidservants gasped upon seeing him and scurried aside, curtsying deeply as he passed them. Even today, Aemond could feel pride swelling in his chest. Maesters, heading back to their cloisters bowed with solemn utterances of his name, and Aemond nodded back, not noticing how their eyes trailed after the young prince with pity and horror. Two guards jumped into position as he approached the great doors of the hall, Aemond barely registering their exchange of shock. Light poured into the hall as they swung open the doors, the orange glow of flame illuminating the prince at the head of the hall. Ser Harrold’s voice announced his arrival, faltering as he turned to look at the young man. No sooner had he entered the hall did the whispered chatter begin. Members of every house gazed upon his nightmarish visage. Some couldn’t look. Girls from noble houses, adorned in their finery, some whom he had hoped to court, turned from his face when he looked upon them. The rest of the memory was a blur of hot tears and screamed vengeance. Since then, the eyepatch remained firmly in place.

“Brother,” Helaena’s hand brushed his own. “You’re staring.” Aemond blinked once, twice and averted his eye from the poor Baratheon girl, her own boring into the ground, quaking as her sister held her hand. Lord Borros and Queen Alicent talked quietly, exchanging pleasantries and glancing occasionally in Aemond’s direction. Ah, so that was the order of it. Marry him off to a Baratheon. Well, the youngest was certainly out of the running.

Another rumble of thunder rattled off the stone walls, accompanied by the clatter of metal against leather. Beside Aemond, Helaena gasped and clapped her hands together. The sound was not due to thunder at all, but the cavalry of horses making its way through the Red Keep’s portcullis. Many of the gathered crowd scuttled to the sides of the barbican courtyard, the Baratheons huddled next to the Queen and the Lannisters stopped in the doorway of the council chamber, eager to assess the party’s new arrivals.

At least three dozen dark stallions poured through the gates, their loose manes rippling in the breeze. The clap of their hooves across the courtyard sent deep tremors through the prince, and at his side he felt his sister shiver. With excitement or nerves, he didn’t know. Above the horses, banners of bronze, blue and wine-rich red flew in the air, the horses emblazoned on them riding the wind, and atop each steed sat a knight, their riding leathers adorned with the sigil of their house; the bucking horse with teeth bared. The helmets of their armour produced plumes of horsehair, no doubt to give the impression they were at one with their mounts. Aemond scoffed. It was a sweet attempt to seem commanding, he supposed. His amusement turned to horror however, when he noticed the slightness of some of the warriors. It couldn’t be. Beneath many of the helmets, scattered amongst the knights, were women. Women in battle dress, shields slung over their backs and swords at their side. The prospect of marrying a Baratheon girl did not seem so dreadful now, if the only women at court were to be Helaena’s ladies-in-waiting, the noble ladies his mother pushed at him or these horse maids.

“Gestillan!”

The cry came from the front of the cavalry, the language one that Aemond could not place, and the cavalry shuffled to a halt. Every head turned towards them. Three riders led the troop, two men and a woman.

“Lord Geodred, of House Beridan, heir to Braedel and commander of the Renward, his sister, Lady Geowyth, and Ser Herumbrand Fasthelm, captain of the Renward.”

Lord Geodred, the man who had issued the call, was at the centre of the three. Unlike the rest of the riders, the three leaders wore no helmets, and Lord Geodred’s hair shone russet like a crown about his head. Stubble decorated his round cheeks, and his small eyes twinkled with mirth. There was something in him that reminded Aemond of his mother in her happier days. The tunic he wore was made of velvet, the fabric coloured the same as the sky when Aemond rode Vhagar just before sun’s rise; that deep, endless blue. Bronze pattern work wound around his sleeves and cape, draped nobly over his mount’s back.

The man to his right was an imposing beast. Ser Herumbrand. The old knight’s dark armour was flecked with scratches, though none could quite match those across his face. His white hair was roughly shorn close to his scalp and, combined with the jutting of his square jaw, gave the man a look of stone come to life. Grey eyes scanned the royals and gathered nobles. He looked down his wide nose at them, though his mouth gave him away. The faintest smile played at the corners if his lips. At his side, his hand rested against the hilt of an enormous sword, the other lax on the reign of the chestnut horse he rode. The two men dismounted and Aemond watched their progress up the great steps towards the royal family. Lord Geodred bowed deeply to the Queen, and when she held out her hand, rather than bend to kiss it, Geodred clasped it warmly with both of his.

“An honour, my Queen, that you would have us attend the King’s council. I am only sorry that it is I and not our uncle,”

“And I am sorry that my husband is not here to welcome you, and that your dear uncle is ill. How is the good King?”

“He is well enough, for now-”

A glint of gold caused Aemond’s eye to drift from his mother and her guests to the woman now dismounting from her own stallion. The black horse she rode was an enormous creature, perhaps the largest horse he had ever seen. The tangle of mane covered its eyes, and it huffed through its flared nostrils as its rider departed with a firm pat to his sleek and muscled neck. From beneath its muzzle she appeared, removing her leather riding gloves and handing them to the rider beside her. Like her brother, the Lady Geowyth was bonny faced, though her hair was much darker. It cascaded in frizzy strands to her waist, the effect giving her the look of something haunted, like a witch fresh from a bog. Where her brother wore blue, she wore the red of her house, dark like blood, the velvet gown frayed and sprayed with mud no doubt from the journey. Lifting the skirt of her dress, she approached her brother, who turned and introduced his sister to the Queen. Aemond watched she curtsied, deeper than any who had come before her, and thanked her for her hospitality.

The Braedels moved along the row, first Lord Geodred, then his sister and Ser Herumbrand. Geodred shook Aegon’s hand jovially after bowing, and the poor prince looked jostled. His ability to stand upright was already hampered by his drinking and the vigorous shaking by a warrior lord did nothing to help him. The lady, Geowyth, curtsied to the prince who took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to it. He muttered something and she laughed, from genuine pleasure or politeness Aemond could not tell. When the party moved towards Helaena, Aegon looked to his brother and winked, licking his lips. He laughed as Aemond imperceptibly shook his head, but ceased when his mother smacked his arm. Aemond distinctly saw her mutter the word “behave.”

Unlike with his mother and brother, Aemond noted that Lord Geodred did not touch Helaena, merely bowed with a gentle “hello”, to which she nodded and clasped her hands. Instead, he stepped aside and introduced the princess to his sister. Helaena, taken by one of her flights of fancy, held out a hand and caught the dark velvet of Lady Geowyth’s cape. She ran her fingers along it murmuring about the delicacy of the embroidery.

“Perhaps we could go to the haberdashers,” Geowyth said gently. “And choose fabric together? By the old Gods and the new, it would be nice to have the company of another young woman.”

Helaena beamed, nodding as she let go of the fabric and swung her arms in front of her. Geodred stepped before Aemond and raised his eyebrows, the act denoting fondness rather than annoyance at their two sisters. The Lord’s calm countenance and assuredness belied his true age for up close, Aemond noted he could have been no older than thirty.

“Prince Aemond,” Geodred bowed. “A pleasure. Your father’s letters to my uncle tell that you are a great student of history.” Beside him, Geowyth looked up.

“History, yes,” Aemond’s voice was measured. “And the languages.”

Geodred nodded. “I hope that you would find the time to show me some of your favourite volumes. I have not the head for history but must learn if I am to inherit my uncle’s kingdom.”

“Of course,” Aemond bowed his head only slightly. “And I might enquire as to your language-” He let the sentence hang, waiting on Geodred to answer.

“Braehic, spoken only in our kingdom. Aed grundset,” At these unknown words, Aemond’s lips twitched into an uncomfortable smile and he bowed, signifying to Geodred that their conversation was at an end. The other man smiled and moved aside. “My sister, Geowyth.”

She was already deep in a bow when Aemond looked upon her. The hair she left untied, tangled like that of her steed, fell forward from her shoulders and near swept the floor. When she straightened to her full height, she met Aemond almost eye to covered eye. At once, Aemond’s eye fell to the ground. The flicker was quick, and he recovered to look at her once again, but nonetheless, they had caught him off guard. Like the bronze of Beridan banners, her eyes gleamed amber. Framed beneath her dark and straight lashes, they stared into his own like an eagle after prey, so bright they were almost yellow. She smiled.

“Your Grace,”

“My lady.” Aemond possessed none of the easy charm of his brother, nor the intriguing gentleness of his sister and, frozen under the gaze of her eyes, said nothing at all. The lady had clearly not expected his silence and glanced quickly to her brother.

“My Queen,” Geodred stepped forward and offered Alicent his arm. “I believe we are the last to arrive-”

“Thank the mother, the maiden and the crone’s sagging-”

“Thank you, Lord Geodred,” Alicent cut Aegon off, taking Geodred’s arm and leading him inside the Red Keep. Behind them followed the royal children and the nobles of the other houses. Helaena tucked her arm into Aemond’s, watching the party from Braedel every now and again over her shoulder.

“Borne and bound,” she muttered.  

“Hm?” Aemond followed her eyes. Lady Geowyth and Ser Herumbrand were deep in conversation. The old knight’s eyes caught Aemond’s and the young prince turned around.

“I like them,”

“I’m glad, sister,” he squeezed her hand. “They seemed very taken by you too.” Helaena blushed and clung closer to him.

“Shame the same can’t be said about you,” Aegon took Helaena’s arm from Aemond’s. When the time was right and he was sober enough to remember, Aegon liked to act the doting husband to his sister. Aemond bowed his head and took great strides to be away from his family and the party behind them, catching Aegon’s words as he departed for his chambers.

“Only a few more hours of council and then the drinking can begin.” A roar of approval rose from the noblemen and Aemond sighed. Between the council and the King’s nameday festivities, women being forced upon him or being ignored completely, Aemond knew this week was to be excruciating.

Note: Gestillan = halt

Aed grundset = of course

The language that the Braedel kingdom speaks is Old English. I was inspired (no surprises here) by Tolkien and the Rohirrim, and the area of the UK that I am from when creating this house. There will be a lot more about them and their society in upcoming chapters! The names in old English names are typically said how the are written, though the prefix “geo” is said as “gay-O”, rather than the “geo" in “geography”.

Tags: @arcielee @mefools @bladeofdreadfort @glitterandgoldfinds @heimtathurs @ewanmitchellcrumbs

[dcsnextgaycharacter]

Not a full list but can people send me panels they would like to see for any ship below, need to outsource help (Hank ships are in here but I don't need help with those, I am using Green Lantern/Sentinel: Heart of Darkness panels for HankTodd):

Hal/Ollie JayRoy HankTodd Match/Inertia Dick/Joey Joe Morgan/Al Pratt Bart Allen/Preston Lindsay Riddler/Scarecrow Jason Blood/Bruce Wayne Dinah/Helena Clark Kent/John Henry Irons Clark/Lex DinahOllieHal Mister Mind/The Joker Tiger/Dick Chastantine Rose/Cassie Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland Diana/Kate Kane Constantine/Lucifer Cassandra Cain/Rose Wilson Helena/Renee Sandman/Corinthian Jay Garrick/Alan Scott/Richard Swift Linda Park/Wally West/Hartley Rathaway The Shade/Jack Knight Richard Swift/Charles McNider BerKon Renee/Scandal Wally/Kyle Riddler/Penguin Hal/Earth Villains Lois Lane/Selina Kyle Ollie Queen/Eddie Fyers Plastic Man/Vic Sage Halowog Cosmic Boy/Lightning Lord Coldflash Maps Mizoguchi/Gold Beetle Nightwing/Catman Black Canary/Lady Shiva Tatsu Yamashiro/Selina Kyle Mr Freeze/Bruce Wayne Vixen/Wonder Woman Superbat Barbara/Kara Wally West/Pied Piper Max Lord/Booster Gold Harper Row/Punchline Brainiac 5/Superman Batjokes Riddlebat Jon Kent/Ash Damian/Jay Cir El/Natasha Irons/Traci 13 HalJohn HalGuy HalKyle HalAlan Beth/Yolanda HankCam Bluepulse

Sandwave Batlantern Brainiac 5/Invisible Kid DickGarth Lightray/Orion Catman/Deadshot Donna/Starfire TimKon MidDickPollo Wonder Woman/Circe Lee Travis/Wesley Dodds/Dian Belmont Boostle Todd/Kaldur Dinahbabs Bruharv Konbart BeaTora Anita Fite/Traci 13 JonDami CissieCassie Ghostbat TimJon StephCass Supercorp Dick/Wally Virgil Hawkins/Richie Foley Courtney/Emiko Talia Kane/Laurel Kent Isamot Kol/Vath Sarn Pied Piper/Trickster Two-face/Riddler Wonder Woman/Cheetah SinHal Tim/Lonnie Birds of Prey Polycule GuyJohn AnitaCissie StephMia TimBerBartKon DinahZatanna CarolDiana JessKori DickRoy BruceOllie GuyDick Bernard Dowd/Jay Nakamura Karen Starr/Helena Wayne Halbarry BruceConstantine Young Justice Polycule Lois/Diana Lex Luthor/Braniac Max Lord/Ted Kord Jessica Cruz/Soranik Natu Lex Luthor/Will Magnus Pre N52 Kara Zor El and Stephanie Brown Steph/Mia Mia/Cissie Alan Scott/Jay Garrick Selina Kyle/Talia Al Ghul Gotham City Sirens Polycule Kyle/Connor

[soteirahere]

Invocation to Hekate Soteira - Peace for the Children of Gaza

Mother Hekate, Goddess of the Liminal Spaces, Hekate Kleidouchos, Keeper of the Keys, Hear the desperate cries of your innocent children in Gaza and the West Bank, echoing through lands and seas. Guide us through the labyrinth of life, unlock the doors we face, Be our compass in the chaos, our sanctuary in this sacred place.

Hekate Kourotrophos, Guardian of the Young, lend your sacred care, Wrap the children of Gaza in your arms, show them love beyond compare. Be their shield in the daylight, their comfort in the night, Be the hope in their eyes, their courage in the fight.

Hekate Atalos, the Tender One, feel the weight of their despair, Hold their hearts within your hands, show them someone cares. Let your compassion be their guide, your tenderness their song, In a world that feels so cold, show them they belong.

Hekate Agrotera, Mighty Huntress, track down peace where it hides, Be their eyes in the forest of fear, their steps where danger resides. Lead them to safety, to havens free from harm, With your bow and arrow, protect them from alarm.

Hekate Antania, Enemy of Mankind, turn your wrath on those who divide, Be the avenger of the oppressed, let justice be their guide. Strike down the walls that imprison them, shatter the chains that bind, Be the sword of retribution, the defender of humankind.

Hekate Brimo, the Angry One, let your fury be their shield, In the battlefield of life, be the power they wield. Turn your rage into a fire, a blaze that lights their way, In the darkest corners of their world, be their break of day.

Hekate Despoina, Mistress of All, make the oppressors yield, Be the authority they respect, the scepter and the shield. Command the winds of change, the tides of time and fate, Be the voice of sovereignty, that the tyrants cannot negate.

Hekate Enodia, of the Paths, guide them through the darkest night, Be the lantern in their hands, the star in their sky so bright. Lead them through the crossroads, where their destiny unfolds, Be the map to their future, the story yet untold.

Hekate Epipurgidia, on the Tower, be their watchful light, Be the sentinel in the darkness, their guardian in the night. From your lofty vantage point, see dangers from afar, Be their early warning, their guiding northern star.

Hekate Gorgo, the Grim, instill fear in the hearts of their foes, Be the terror in their eyes, the nightmare that never goes. Turn your gaze upon the wicked, let them tremble in their sin, Be the face they cannot forget, the conscience from within.

Hekate Khthonia, of the Underworld, where the river of justice flows, Be the keeper of their secrets, the knower of their woes. In the depths of their despair, be the light that never dies, Be the hope that springs eternal, the truth that never lies.

Hekate Kleidophoros, Bearer of Keys, unlock the doors to their salvation, Open the gates of opportunity, the portals to liberation. With each key you turn, unlock a brighter day, With each door you open, show them a better way.

Hekate Krataiis, the Strong, be the pillar of their foundation, Be the rock upon which they build, the core of their determination. In the storms that rage around them, be their anchor in the sea, In the winds that try to break them, be their stability.

Hekate Krokopeplos, Saffron-Cloaked, wrap them in your protective embrace, Be the warmth in their winter, the smile on their face. Clothe them in resilience, drape them in your might, Be the cloak that shields them, in the day and in the night.

Hekate Nyktipolos, Night-Wandering, guard them when the sun takes flight, Be their eyes in the darkness, their senses in the night. Walk beside them in their dreams, be their guide in realms unseen, Be the whisper in the wind, the force that stands between.

Hekate Perseis, Daughter of Perses, bring them through the darkest plight, Be their sword in the battle, their courage in the fight. With your lineage of power, be the magic that they wield, Be the strength in their spirit, the armor and the shield.

Hekate Phosphoros, Light-Bringer, illuminate their path so dim, Be the dawn of their new day, the hymn in their morning hymn. Shine your light upon their road, be their beacon in the dark, Be the spark that lights their way, the fire that ignites their spark.

Hekate Propolos, the Attendant, lead them to safety on a whim, Be the hand that pulls them up, when their hope begins to dim. Guide them through the labyrinth, be their compass and their chart, Be the intuition in their mind, the empathy in their heart.

Hekate Propylaia, Before the Gate, guard the entrance to their homes, Be the keeper of their hearth, the walls made of ancient stones. Stand before their sanctuary, be the lock and the key, Be the guardian of their peace, their security and their glee.

Hekate Soteira, the Savior, in your name this heartfelt prayer roams, Be the miracle they seek, the angel that guides them home. Save them from the perils, that lurk in shadow and in light, Be the wings upon their back, the daybreak to their night.

Hekate Trikephalos, Three-Headed, watch over them from every side, Be their lookout in the front, their rear guard far and wide. With your trinity of vision, see what's hidden and what's known, Be their eyes in every corner, where danger may have grown.

Hekate Trimorphis, Three-Formed, in you their hopes and dreams reside, Be the facets of their soul, where love and fear collide. In your triple aspect, be their past, present, and future, Be the sum of all they are, the editor and the tutor.

Hekate Trioditis, of Three Roads, guide them through choices yet unknown, Be the signpost in their journey, the seeds that they have sown. In the forks that lie ahead, be the wisdom that they seek, Be the courage in their choices, the voice when they are weak.

Hekate Trivia, of the Three Ways, let your wisdom to them be shown, Be the teacher of their life, the mysteries they've known. In the crossroads of their fate, be the lantern in the mist, Be the answers to their questions, the chances they can't resist.

Hekate Adonaea, guide our magic, direct and firm, All that hurts shall be returned. Be the force that shapes their spells, the focus of their aim, Be the power in their words, the sanctity in their claim.

Hekate Nyktipolos, Night-Wandering Queen, open our eyes, allow all to be seen. Be the revealer of truths, the seer of what's concealed, Be the clarity in their vision, the reality revealed.

Hekate Hieros Pyr, Holy Fire, be the flame that never dies, Be the inferno in their soul, the passion in their cries. Burn away the darkness, consume all that's unjust, Be the fire that purifies, the ashes to the dust.

Oh Hekate, let your voice ring out in the celestial halls, Gather the Gods, from their heavenly realms and sacred walls. Implore them to lend their might, their love, their divine grace, To the people of Gaza, suffering in this unforgiving place. With tears in our eyes and hope in our hearts, we pray, Hekate, rally the Gods, guide us toward a better, brighter day.

[deyisacherry]

Striked by Stars — (DCA -Sun & Moon- x Reader. Cyberpunk AU)

(title might change)

[Just an idea. Possible Chapter 1]

Your foot taps the floor anxiously, you stare at your tired reflection in the vending machine's glass, waiting for the damn thing to work once and for all. Finally, it makes an almost hopeful sound, while you notice how the food package begins to move forward.

You can already imagine the sweet flavor of the cake, satisfying the hunger you have endured for at least 38 hours.

... Yeah, it's not easy to get something to eat in this city. Or anywhere really.

Your illusion is shattered when the package jams just before it's dropped, and the neon lights go out followed by a stupid, pathetic noise.

You kick the huge "box" angrily, without even getting a shake efficient enough to get your snack out of there... dinner? Whatever.

And of course, the great multimillion-dollar company in charge of creating most of the technology in your district had to make sure that the glass was resistant to prevent theft. That's why it was still here, and also why it barely worked. You suspect you're not the only person who's kicked this thing.

You curse every living thing left and give the device one last blow, before turning to leave the alley and walk towards your vehicle.

Wonderful. Another couple of hours you'll have to go without feeding.

Hell, sometimes you wish you were one of those Sentinel robots just so you wouldn't have to worry about eating. Of course, that was the only reason. The thought of becoming a robotic slave with no life decisions of your own made you nauseous.

You had no choice but to go all the way to the west of town to negotiate with some probably bitter and greedy guy. At least you would get some of the leftovers that are still in good condition.

You got so busy planning something that you didn't notice the constant noise coming from the direction of where you left your motorcycle. A worrying crash startles you and you step back before crossing the corner, pressing your back to the wall as your hand travels to the gun in your jacket.

You listen carefully, avoiding anything that could give you away.

Some bastard trying to steal your vehicle? A Sentinel they sent to annoy you? Did you get so careless that someone followed you?

Well, you better get out there and get rid of the problem before it gets rid of you.

You approach the corner very carefully, and activate the recognition scanner in your glasses, turning your head slowly.

Your hand grips the gun firmly when you see movement, away from your bike, thankfully, but closer to you than you'd like.

It takes you a while to make out the figure. A being with almost human characteristics, staggering as it tries to get up. It fell down, that caused the noise. But there are metallic sounds, machinery causing almost silent grinding noises. He's not human. But it's not a Sentinel either.

The being raises its head and you hide better. It doesn't notice you. You look at it closely and... it's a robot. Not one you've seen before, but definitely not one you should fear, or attack.

Its white orbs seem to scan its surroundings with confusion, or perhaps weariness. It doesn't take your "baby" into account and you sigh in relief knowing that you won't have to kick any more metal.

You study it more closely, while analyzing the information that your glasses give you. Humanoid figure, clearly thinner than ordinary. Probably tall if you weren't looking at it half lying on the ground. Yellow casings. A kind of sun rays around its head. A thematic robot, it seems. Definitely with artificial intelligence, it's not controlled by anyone. Half of its face resembles a crescent and...

It belongs to Fazbear. That's what the data says.

But... "Entertainment"? They stopped using that term a few years ago. "Fazbear Enterprises" is how they call themselves now.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. You know many robots were created by them. Mostly animatronics.

You feel like you should be wary. You have no security knowing by whom it was created.

But...

It looks exhausted. Afraid. Something clearly isn't working with it, and getting up seems like a big stretch right now.

Your hand holds the gun doubtfully. You shouldn't let your guard down anyway, so you stay alert. You clench your lips and fist, thinking of what to do.

You're starving, you can get in your vehicle right away and drive off to try a bite of whatever.

. . .

“Hey.” You speak firmly and as clearly as you can as you emerge from your hiding place, making sure it doesn't see you as a weak human, just in case. The sun-like robot looks up at you, and flinches, recoiling or rather crawling backwards at your presence. Its eyes open in some panic and its mouth that seems not to be able to open showing its teeth in a tense expression.

You raise an eyebrow at its reaction, but given its condition it doesn't surprise you. The information you receive when analyzing it with the glasses doesn't seem to be anything to worry about, yet...

"Who are you? What are you doing in this place?”

The robot doesn't speak, it just watches you and you start to get annoyed. You think you see its rays contract and come out at a rate that resembles breathing. Suddenly, its body tenses in a sharp sound, and it turns its head slightly to the side.

You narrow your eyes and frown. “What's wrong with you?”

You scan your surroundings, but you don't see or hear anything. It seems like you've become less of a threat to it just now.

“...Hey, I'm talking to y-”

The robot gets up with a speed that you don't know where it came from, and takes you tightly in its arms. Not enough to hurt you, but enough so you can't break free. And boy does that make you angry. You can't draw your weapon properly, and there's nothing to kick that will "hurt" it or make it fall. It carries you as if you weighed no more than a feather. You begin to curse and flail violently, until it covers your mouth with its hand. You expected a cold, metallic texture, but it's... Soft? Silicone... And why the hell is this robot so warm?

It moves from where you were in a hurry, you can hear its machinery more clearly. Of course you haven't stopped trying to free yourself or screaming under its hand.

When they reach an unlit alley, your glasses flash, detecting an approaching threat.

Damn, a trap, a fucking trap. You should have known. How dumb, how-

The robot presses you to its body and shrinks into a corner of the alley, allowing you to put your feet on the ground. You could take advantage of the situation to get away more easily and make it scrap once and for all, but...

You hear a Sentinel pass by. The sound of its thrusters becoming clearer and louder as it advances. Your detector would not have alerted you in time. You would have had to fight off guard, and probably come away with injuries, or worse.

The darkness of the place that surrounds you is enough to hide you. Your eyes open intently to the other side, maintaining at least a little hope that the devilish machine will continue on its way. Luckily, you know when it's tracking a target. That nasty, blinding purple light isn't on. Seconds pass tortuously slowly, and then it's gone, until your radar can no longer detect it.

You feel your body relax, and you breathe out in relief, closing your eyes for a moment.

The silicone hands carefully move away from your mouth and body, and you regain your anger at the surprise of the moment, turning sharply and pushing the robot against the cement wall.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Are you insane?!” You blurt out in an angry whisper, just in case the thing could still hear you. “Why the hell did you do that?!”

The robot looks at you in panic, without moving. Its white optics seem to flicker nervously. It does its best not to touch you at all, both hands raised on either side of its head in a show of surrender.

Its silence makes you start to think that perhaps it doesn't speak, or its voice box is damaged. But... it probably just doesn't have the courage to talk.

As you study its fearful expression better, and the slightly scraped or dirty state of its faceplate and rays, you grimace. You release him and lean back.

... It just saved your life.

You don't understand why, but it did it.

And, damn, you still have enough honor to recognize an act like that towards you. Not everyone is that way these days.

Everyone tries to see for themselves. Even in the resistance. Someone less is just that... one more who didn't get lucky.

You clench your jaw, sighing deeply. You run a hand over your face, looking away. Your recent reaction wasn't the best on this one.

This robot saved you even though it wasn't in the best condition, and you perfectly noticed the fear it feels for the Sentinels.

While it does come from Fazbear... it doesn't seem to want to be related or involved with them. You look at it again, and it doesn't seem to be carrying any kind of weapon. The plates on its arms only look like maintenance accesses.

You soften your expression and hold out your hand towards it. The robot shrinks in fear, its rays retract and you understand that it's a way of expressing its emotions. Your mouth twists once more, your fingers gathering in sorrow. You drop your hand to your side awkwardly.

“... Hey, I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean to talk to you like that. You don't deserve to be treated that way after what you did for me…” You speak softly, watching as it slowly relaxes himself and also drops its arms tiredly.

It continues looking at you despite everything, it doesn't lower its head, nor does it look away. Or well... so it seems. You don't see pupils in its eyes.

Its rays extend smoothly, and you notice how they rotate very gently, just like a windmill. A small smile appears on your lips at that. It must mean it has calmed down now.

You breathe in and adjust your clothes without much effort. “Uh…” Your hand grabs your glasses and pushes them up, letting them rest on your head. "Thank you." You tell it calmly, not trying to approach it again. You understand that it may still be in a state of shock. “You could... you could have just left. Run, and leave me there… Wow, you could've just taken my motorcycle and run away.” You chuckle tiredly. “But you didn't... Thank you.”

The robot's rays make a quick turn to the opposite side, and you think you see him change his tense expression for a very slight smile just like yours.

You take that as an acceptance of your apology and gratitude, and you feel a little better.

A little, because... Now what? You're still hungry, and you're still planning on going for food. But leaving it here... just like that, would be low of you.

Actions, this is how you should show real appreciation for something so important.

“... Do you talk?” You ask simply, not knowing if you were tactful or not when doing so.

The robot takes a few seconds and nods. Oh, well... so it was just afraid to talk. Well done, you metaphorically "cut out its tongue" by being so defensive.

“Were you going somewhere?... You don't look... Well- you look...” You try to choose the best words, twirling your hand in the air. You click your tongue, straight to the point. “Do you need a ride? Anything?"

Another few seconds of silence. It seems to hesitate, and this time it lowers its head a little.

“… Uhm- You don't have to answer if you don't want to… I'm just trying to-”

“The underground shelters.” Finally it... he answers you, and this time you stay silent, waiting for him to continue. “I must... get to the underground shelters.” He says, his voice soft and slightly interrupted by static. His voice box, in fact, does sound a little defective.

Oh...

“... Whoa, to the- to the other side of town, huh?” The robot nods, almost ashamed.

You and him internally recognize that in his conditions he wouldn't have gotten there on his own.

“Well…” You put your hand in one of the pockets of your jacket, and show him a small control, shaking it slightly. “You're in luck. I’m going to the west too.” You say with a friendly smile, tilting your head.

He mimics you, his head leaning to the same side as yours. Or maybe he's just confused to get your help back.

Either way, you have a feeling this robot was designed to entertain.

His confused expression changes to a cheerful one, his eyes turning animatedly into crescents.

"Thank you..." He tells you softly.

“It's the least I can do.” You say lifting your shoulders simply.

The robot stands up shakily. Not out of fear, but out of the clear weakness of his metal body. You inevitably approach him quickly and help him remain stable. He doesn't flinch, or push you away. He looks down at you with a tired smile. Doesn't he have any batteries that need to be recharged as well? You start to wonder how long he's been sneaking around the city to get to his destination.

“Do you have a name… a- nickname, or something?” You question, letting him place one of his arms on your shoulders.

The robot nods once more. His expression seems a little out of it, as if he was thinking about something else. Like he's remembering. “Sun.”

You sigh with a smile at the obvious coincidence, and adjust his arm tightly over your shoulders, your free arm wrapping around his torso firmly. You tell him your name confidently, and he looks at you, spinning his rays once more. You laugh softly and gently pat his forearm.

With your free hand, you lower your glasses onto your face again, just to make sure you don't run into any more inconveniences. The radar tells you that you're safe, and you sigh heavily. Good, because your stomach is starting to kill you.

You may have had a very small glimmer of regret when helping the robot walk to your motorcycle. Even if he's just leaning on you, putting his arm around your shoulders, he's heavy as hell. Envy growing in your chest as you remember how he picked you up like it was nothing a moment ago. And he was tall, very tall. If he wasn't hunched over, you would barely reach halfway up his torso.

But, leaving him here with the excuse that he was too heavy, would be beyond rude of you.

It's not like you wanted to either. You were serious when you offered to help him.

You both reach where your "baby" was left. Intact, without having been of importance to the Sentinel, and that takes a great weight off your shoulders...

Bad inside joke.

You let him hold on to the vehicle while you get on, so he can stay upright, and also keep your motorcycle stable. You settle into your seat and then turn to look at him, motioning with your head to tell him to get in too, while you start putting on your helmet.

Hesitantly, his eyes flicker a few times and then you see him physically relax, as if sighing. He climbs up and takes a seat behind you, avoiding as much as possible to touch you, you deduce. It's fair. You've just met, in a not-so-pleasant situation, and it's completely normal for him to be nervous or uncomfortable.

You remember how he flinched when you extended your hand to him.

When you saw the fear in his body language, the brief thought that perhaps he was attacked or mistreated crossed your mind.

You don't like that.

It is true that you prefer to go on your own in general, but it doesn't mean that you don't feel complete rejection of the injustices towards the innocent beings that survive in these times.

This robot is one of those beings. Your doubts are scarce.

Your hand turns the accelerator and causes the angelic sound of your motorcycle ready to go. You feel and see from the mirror how Sun stirs uneasily at this. He clearly hasn't been in a vehicle like this before, and that makes him even more nervous.

Another clue is how his hands hold tightly on the edges of the seat, on either side of his legs.

"Hey." You catch his attention and he raises his concerned gaze from the ground to you. “You're not going to fall, don't worry. "I know how to handle this old beauty, okay?" You tell him in a comforting tone, before lowering the front shield of your helmet and directing your gaze forward. “Ready to go for a ride, 'Sun'?” You ask out loud within the safety of the helmet.

He shrinks slightly in his place, his rays retracting again, in that anxious gesture.

You don't wait for an answer. Using the accelerator again, and with complete naturalness, you step on the pedal to start, leaving the solar robot silent of any thought he had wanted to express.

You had already gotten used to the small push generated by the start, so much so that you no longer even noticed it. But Sun... Sun gripped his hands on the fabric of your jacket, on both sides of your torso.

You laugh softly, barely noticeable because of the wind crashing against your body, your amused smile being blocked by the dark visor covering your face.

[sparkmender]

For the hive au, is a mostly peaceful compared to the OG lore? Is there crime and civil unrest? Whether between the courts or factions or etc

In the immediate area of Hive Iacon (and Megatron’s remaining Swarm loyalists who have come to stay), conflict is quite low now that Megatron and Optimus have settled things between them and Megatron has been appointed Lord Protector of the Hive. They have joined together out of a need for shared resources and, on Optimus’ part, an urging from the Matrix and his inner court to secure his position as the new Prime (potential-to-be Magnus) of the Hive. As Sentinel had any other Prime potentiates killed before they could emerge from their second cocoons, and then fell to sickness, Optimus was in a very precarious situation that could have led to Iacon facing colony collapse or poaching from other Hives— prior to becoming more isolationist under Nova Prime and Sentinel Prime, Iacon had long been held in high regard for their gifted magic adepts and skillful healers (as well as a carefully maintained library due to the work of elder Alpha Trion) and many would be glad to take them and their knowledge in, should their community bonds crumble.

Tensions had been very high between Iacon and the Swarm in the past under Sentinel Prime’s leadership, with Sentinel as the aggressor rather than Megatron— for the most part Megatron had been very, very busy trying to quell infighting and claw back territory after his successful coup and duel to the death against Megazarak, the former leader of the Swarm and his and Galvatron’s sire. (Galvatron had previously been excommunicated and thrown out into the wastes of the Kaoni desert for her own attempt on Megazarak in Megatron’s grubhood, as she was considered mad due to her Seer abilities— the Swarm has a long history of distrust and disbelief in such things— and it would have been ‘dishonorable’ for Megazarak to kill her because of her insanity.) At current time the Swarm exists in name only; there are several different troupes and factions within that have splintered away for various reasons since that clash between Megatron and Megazarak, and the Swarm’s once ironclad grip on the Tarnish mountain range and surrounding territory (stretching from the Kaoni desert to roughly west of Tesarus) has been thoroughly broken, leading to infighting, banditry, and other conflicts.

Notable among these splintered groups are the Wyld Hunt as led by Tarn, the bastard offspring of Megatron, and Overlord’s strange wandering Circus. There’s also a bunch of idiots calling themselves the Scavengers? We don’t know what their deal is, but they’re human friendly and pretty bad at being mercenaries.

The Order of the Path are wandering pathguides and wayfinders of all sorts, who travel among various Hives and settlements to share news and, occasionally, guard caravans of travelers. Drift is one such pathguide, and travels between Iacon and Caminus regularly. Beyond the threat of ambush and bandits for large groups of travelers, there are large Voiceless (nonsentient) predators to contend with, ranging from those who are opportunistic to those who specifically predate on Fae and their kin.

There’s also the Court of Vos, which is constantly in conflict with itself, everyone around it, anyone who’s ever been tangentially involved, and probably you as well just because. Vos itself sounds constantly as if it is in argument with itself, given the concentration of the wasp population within. You will hear the buzzing before you even realize you’re within fighting distance.

The Coastal fae and their kith have very loose arrangements with each other and are typically solitary or form small pods with poorly defined territory claims. When conflict arises (which rarely occurs, as the beach dwellers and cave-lurks keep to themselves), issues are brought to Shockwave to mediate, as all are in agreement that Shockwave is the most impartial and sensible. This has nothing to do with the fact that he is also the largest. We swear.

As for the Kaon Market, it’s only a crime if you get caught. Don’t get caught.

[pompomqt]

Journey to the West Chapter 32

In this chapter of Journey to the West with @journeythroughjourneytothewest the pilgrimage is back together and ready to head west once again. So let's get into it shall we?

So the group has been traveling for quite a while when they run into yet another scary mountain. Tripitaka is scared of tigers or wolves attacking them and warns his disciples to be careful. Monkey however reassures him, that he'll be just fine since he has Monkey. So Monkey is able to persaude Tripitaka to keep going and soon enough they run into an elderly woodcutter. Place your bets people, is this old person A) A deity of some kind. B) A demon or monster that wants to eat them. C) A normal human. Let's find out shall we?

So the Woodcutter calls out to them and warns them that there are a bucnh of evil demon's here who eat travelers who travel from east to west. Which is a pretty specific diet plan. This causes Tripitaka to freak out, but Monkey decides to question the Woodcutter more thoroughly. Interestingly, Monkey refers to the Woodcutter as 'Big Brother' usually he seems to take pride in being older then most people and calls himself 'ancestor'. Anyways, Monkey explains about their mission and asks the Woodcutter to tell him about the monsters so he can get the proper authorities to arrest them. After all whether they be demons of heaven or of earth, or dragons, or ghosts or ogres, Sun Wukong is on a first name basis with all of their managers.

Anyways the Woodcutter explains that the demons here are specifically after the Tang Monk and wants to eat Tripitaka and his associates. Monkey thinks this is great! And even asks how they will eat them, after all, being eaten head first is much preferable to being eaten feet first! Monkey is even happier to find out that they'll just be steamed and eaten whole instead. The Woodcutter warns Monkey that he shouldn't be so sassy, because these demons have five powerful treasures.

Anyways after this conversation Monkey is feeling plenty confident to conquer this mountain and leaves the woodcutter to return to Tripitaka. Monkey assures Tripitaka that this mountain is nothing to worry about, and that the people here are just wimps. As they proceed though they notice that the woodcutter has suddenly vanished. Pigsy thinks it's a ghost, but Monkey just takes a look around, until he spots the Day Sentinel. So Monkey immediately chases the god down, and demands to know what's up with all the disguises instead of just saying something to his face. The god begs him not to take offense and warns him once again to be cautious, and utilize his intelligence and cleverness in order to protect Tripitaka.

Now that Monkey knows the warning is coming from a god instead of a normal human, he is a bit more wary now. He's worried that if he tells Tripitaka about the warning, it'll freak him out and make leading him forward more difficult, but if he doesn't warn him and he get's kidnapped, it'll be a pain in the neck to rescue him. So he decides he'll throw Pigsy at the demon's first to see how strong they really are. If Pigsy wins, good for Pigsy, if not, then Monkey can just rescue him later.

He'll have to use a bit of trickery for this however, since Pigsy would never volunteer to do anything, and Tripitaka coddles him. So Monkey returns back to the group with fake tears in his eyes, which makes Pigsy immediately want to pack their stuff and have everyone go their separate ways. After all, anything that could make the Great Sage cry has got to be really bad news. Tripitaka just tells him to calm down and that he'll talk to Wukong.

So Tripitaka asks Wukong why he's crying, and Monkey explains that the woodcutter was actually the Day Sentinel. He tells him that the Day Sentinel says that the monsters here are truly vicious and that there's no way they can pass through as things are now. After all, Monkey is powerful, but (ignoring his cloning ability) is just one guy, how could he possibly be expected to handle so many demon's by himself? Tripitaka however gives Monkey just the answer he was hoping for when he points out that Monkey isn't alone, they also have Sandy and Pigsy! And if it will get them through this mountain unharmed, then Monkey is free to use them however he see's fit.

Having gotten the response he was aiming for, Monkey immediately wipes away his tears and says that in order to proceed, Pigsy will have to do two things. Pigsy tries to refuse right out the gate, but Tripitaka persuades him to hear him out. So Monkey says the first thing is to look after Tripitaka, and the second is to patrol the mountain. Pigsy complains that he can't do both of those things at once, and Monkey explains that he doesn't have to, he only has to pick one to do.

So Pigsy asks what the two tasks entails and Monkey gladly explains. First, looking after Tripitaka means taking care of his every need, but if he slips up in caring for Tripitaka even slightly then Monkey will beat his ass. The second mission just involves seeing how many monsters there are, and what kind of cave and mountain this is. Pigsy decides to take the choice that has the less likely chance of him getting beaten up by Monkey and chooses to patrol the mountain.

As soon as Pigsy leaves Monkey bursts into laughter, which Tripitaka scolds him for. After all despite being his older brother, Monkey doesn't show Pigsy any sympathy or kindness, and the two are constantly envious of each other. And now that he's tricked Pigsy into patrolling the mountain, he's mocking him by laughing at him! Monkey however assures Tripitaka that's not why he's laughing. He tells Tripitaka that Pigsy has no intention of actually patrolling the mountain or fighting demons, and is probably instead just going to take a nap somewhere and lie to them later. He'll even prove it by following Pigsy. So Tripitaka let's Monkey follow after Pigsy after telling him not to play any tricks on him.

So Monkey transforms into a mole cricket in order to tail him. And sure enough as soon as Pigsy is presumably out of earshot he begins to verbally abuse the others and complains about being made to do patrol the mountain. Having gotten all of that out of his system, Pigsy then finds somewhere comfortable and settles in for a nap. Monkey of course heard every word however and decides to harass Pigsy a bit, so he transforms into a woodpecker and gives Pigsy a bite to the face.

The bite definitely serves the purpose of waking Pigsy up, and after harassing him a bit more as a bird, Pigsy finally gets moving again. Be he's not going to patrol the mountain, instead he finds some rocks and uses them to practice the lie he's going to tell the others when he gets back on. Monkey sticks around long enough to hear the cover story that Pigsy comes up with, before flying back ahead of him in order to tattle to Tripitaka.

So Monkey tells Tripitaka about what Pigsy is going to say. And sure enough once Pigsy arrives back to the group, Monkey prompts him to give the cover story he just told Tripitaka. So Monkey scolds him that this is an important area and that he should have patrolled properly. So he threatens to give Pigsy five good smacks with his staff as punishment. Terrified of this, Pigsy begs Tripitaka to intercede on his behalf... however Tripitaka also isn't to happy with Pigsy for lying. Luckily for Pigsy though, they can't afford to be down a man at the moment, so Tripitaka suggests Monkey save his punishment for later.

So Monkey says he won't beat him for now, but warns him he will if he botches this again. And with that Pigsy is once again sent out to patrol the mountain. So Pigsy heads out once again, incredibly paranoid that every little thing is actually Sun Wukong following him again, despite the fact that Monkey actually decided to hang back with the others this time.

Meanwhile we get introduced to our monsters of the week, the Great King Golden Horn and the Great King Silver Horn, and they are hungry for monk. For Tang Monk specifically, because Tripitaka is the golden cicada reincarnated, and eating him will make them immortal. So the Golden Demon has wanted posters made of Tripitaka and his disciples made, and sends out the Silver Demon and some minions with them in order to find the pilgrimage party.

Soon enough this gaggle of demons comes across Pigsy. When the demons confront him, Pigsy sticks his snout into his shirt and tries to just pass himself off as an ordinary traveler, but is soon found out. So the Demon attacks Pigsy, and although Pigsy is able to fend of the Silver Demon easily enough, he gets intimidated by sheer numbers when the Silver Demons also has his minions attack. So Pigsy tries to flee, but trips and falls and gets captured.

Current Sun Wukong Stats: Names/Titles: Monkey, The Stone Monkey, The Handsome Monkey King, Sun Wukong (Monkey awakened to the void), Bimawen (Banhorseplague), The Great Sage Equal To Heaven and Pilgrim Sun. Immortality: 5 + 94,000 years. Weapon: The Compliant Golden Hooped Rod Abilities: 72 Transformations, Cloud-Somersault, Ability to transform his individual hairs, super strength, Ability to Summon Wind, Water restriction charm, and the ability to change into a huge war form, ability to duplicate his staff, ability to immobilize others, the ability to put others to sleep, and the Fiery eyes and Diamond Pupils, intimidating horses, churning large bodies of water, sleeplessness, seizing the wind, enhanced smell, discerning good and evil within a thousand miles, Spirit Summoning, lock picking, object transformation and distance reduction. Demon Kill Count: 5+ Unknown Number of Minions Human Kill Count: 1006 God's Defeated: 20 + Unknown number Defeats: 3 Crime List: Robbery, Murder, Mass Murder, Arson, Theft, Coercion, Threatening a Government Official, Resisting Arrest, Assault, Forgery, Employee Theft, False Imprisonment, Impersonating a Government Official, Treason, attempted murder, failure to control or report a dangerous fire, desecrating a corpse, breaking and entering, trespassing, violating Tree Law and looting corpses. Cry Count: 4 + 2 fake cries Mountains Trapped Under: 1

Current Tang Sanzang stats: Names/Titles: River Float, Xuanzang, Tang Sanzang, Tripitaka Abilities: Curing Blindness, making branches point a certain direction (allegedly), reciting sutras, pretty privilege, memorization and Heart Sutra. Cry Count: 16 Tight Fillet Spell Uses: 27 Paralyzed by fear: 5 Bandit Problems: 2 Kidnapped by demons: 3 Falling Off Horses: 6

Current Bai Long Ma Stats: Names/Titles: Bai Long Ma (White Dragon Horse), Prince of the Western Ocean, and third prince jade dragon of the dragon king Aorun Abilities: Transforming into a human, a water snake, and a horse, eating a horse in one bite, flight, Magic of Water Restriction, Singing, and Sword Dancing. Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Arson, and Grave Disobedience. Contributions to the plot: 2

Current Zhu Wuneng Stats: Names/Titles: The Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds, Zhu Wuneng (Pig who is aware of ability), Zhu Ganglie, Pigsy, Idiot and Eight Rules. Weapon: Rake Abilities: 36 Transformations, parting water, fighting underwater, cloud soaring and size enhancement Demon Kill Count/Kill steals: 1 Kidnapped by Demons: 1 Human Kill Count: 1 Failed Flirtation/romances Attempts: 3 Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Sexual Harassment, Murder, Kidnapping and arson.

Current Sha Wujing Stats: Names/Titles: The Curtain-Raising General, Sha Wujing (Sand Aware of Purity), Sandy and Sha Monk Weapon: Monster Taming Staff Abilities: Fighting underwater and Cloud soaring. Kidnapped by Demons: 1 Human Kill Count: 1 Crime List: Breaking a Crystal Cup, murder, and desecration of a human corpse.

[breezybangtanbebe]

🌌Chapter Three🌌

About 3 Earth years ago.....

A quick warp on a bullet space train, just beyond the twin heavenly bodies Thalassa and Ignis, the famed ocean and volcanic planets of the eastern galaxy, was the planet Purpura.

The celestial giant's makeup ranged from lush purple landscapes of flower fields and high majestic mountains, violet-hued oceans brimming with mysterious creatures, and some of the most technologically advanced cities of platinum skyscrapers, hovercars, AI, and more.

Megan believed her home planet to be the most beautiful in the galaxy, despite not even seeing a full percentage of it but seeing the famed planet of indigo skies for herself has her reconsidering.

The raging chorus of applause and cheers filled the glass dome in the heart of the capital city of Bora, housing thousands of Borasian citizens who gathered to welcome back their planet's heroes. The brave seven that fearlessly thwarted the wrath of Acadamia, the legion of elders, and their army of mindless sentinels looking to destroy Purpura's core and strip her of all of their natural resources.

It was an extravagant scene, huge banners with very handsome faces plastered on them waved in the air as shimmering flecks of purple and white confetti rained over the crowd. Muffled chants of their names had been on loop for several minutes and Megan wondered just how famed and beloved these guys really were. Nobody on Luminasia garnered this much admiration since the King of Populrium's reign in the West.

But here she was, waiting backstage in a luxurious form-fitting bubble gum pink gown that she planned to take back to Luminasia with her, still in shock at all that had happened in the last 48 hours.

Megan had only happened to be on the planet pursuing her agenda that involved acquiring a certain jewel buried deep within the city's tunnel systems when she found herself caught in the crossfire as two of the members of Bangtan were overpowered by a group of some of the ugliest creatures she'd ever seen.

"Oooooh Phor, we most definitely upgrading all our shit after we cash this rock in. This mufucka thicker than me.." Megan snickered as she etched away the final bits of crumbling stone keeping her from excising the massive quartz from the ceiling with her compact drill.

The intricate subway of Bora was always under construction due to the vast development of the inner city's public transportation system. Which left several areas of the planet's crust, mantle, and ores exposed.

Being the conoisorre and collector of things shiny and valuable, Megan was elated when Phor alerted her of the very rare amethyst stone hidden within the planet's crust.

Just as she carefully clears away the last bit of rock and dirt surrounding the gem, a deep voice echoes in the hollow chamber.

"Huh?" Megan leans her head back to spot someone on the ground looking up at her. From behind her clear protective eyewear, the built-in software brightens her view and zooms in slightly. They're dressed in an all-black militant uniform, the bottom half of their face covered in a minimalistic black mask. A crop of black hair is pushed back, revealing their confused brow, one of which is marred with a vertical scar.

They yell up to her again in what she realizes is Boraean, repeating something she still couldn't understand.

Sighing, Megan lifts her head to resume mining away the last of what held the gem lodged in the mantle. With a soft *tink*, the amethyst jewel is yanked free and tucked in her bag that's strapped to her thigh. She zips it quickly before returning her attention to the ground.

"Um..sorry baby, I only speak Luminish. You got Papastop on yo phone?" she smiles awkwardly, still hanging upside down. The man tilts his head curiously, probably wondering what the hell a Luminasian was doing on Purpura anyway.

"Lumin...? Oh. Well, you shouldn't be in here. Very dangerous." the guy drawls with a heavy accent that has Megan wrinkling her nose in amusement. He spoke her language with concise fluency but still sounded a bit timid.

It was kind of cute.

"You should come down. Now," he adds, his tone a bit more definite than before.

Megan narrows her eyes at him before tapping the side of her glasses. The lenses darkened slightly as they zoomed in further on the man, studying his full form and focusing on the badge on his left breast.

She notes the symbol of two trapezoids pressed together, resembling a set of angular wings, along with Boraean text underneath it. It's a symbol she doesn't recognize and has to refer to her in-house expert on everything for intel.

"Phor, who dis?" she whispers, still hanging from the tunnel's high ceiling with an innocent smile on her face, her long black ponytail swinging like a pendulum.

From his cozy chair in Luminasia, Phor sets down the squeaky bone he was just gnawing on to address Megan's request. His screen is already showing him what her glasses were scanning, the masked male with the serious gaze and unidentifiable uniform.

Megan hears his keys tapping rapidly before he gives her a short answer.

"Min Yoongi. Member of the IHF, 3rd in command in the elite Squad of Bangtan." he reads to her monotonously before leaning back to resume chewing his toy. Megan's smile drops at the official-sounding title.

She had no clue who or what a Bangtan was but it didn't sound like anyone she wanted to be caught stealing a rare precious jewel from.

"You know what? You are so right. I was just about finished here anyway.." she chuckles, hurriedly unhooking herself from her climbing tools.

The man, now known as Yoongi, takes a careful step back while keeping his eye on the woman dropping from the ceiling and landing on her feet with feline-like agility.

Now that they were on the same level, Yoongi's hard gaze gave Megan's body a scan. She was about his height, slightly taller in her heeled boots, with a set of the most wicked curves he'd ever seen in her shiny black leather body suit. A silver zipper winked at him from where it sat just between her breasts, the brown globes of her cleavage distracting him for half a second before he remembered his manners.

"Um.." he blinks a few times before stammering. Megan smirks.

"W-What were you doing?"

Megan blinks back at him cartoonishly, glancing up at the big ass hole...

Well, holes. It took her a moment to find it.

....in the ceiling she made digging for the stone.

"I was uh...inspecting. I'm an inspector. Yeah.." she nods as if more to convince herself. Yoongi squints at her suspiciously, giving her another up-down with his eyes.

"Inspector?..."

"Yeah, the city hired me to inspect the tunnels to make sure it wasn't no bad shit...STUFF..up in there. Ya know..making sure everything is up to code." she nods again, her confidence in her lie dissolving the colder Yoongi's stare became. The scarred brow lifts incredulously and Megan can't help but notice the way his hand moves toward his waist. Luckily, he only pulls out a flashlight and uses it to shine up towards the ceiling again, seemingly counting the several holes Megan was responsible for in the name of her 'inspection'. She waited, awkwardly looking around as Yoongi took his time examining the ceiling. After a beat, he clicks the light off.

"Hmm, well. If you say so. But It's not safe here, like I said. You should follow me. I can get you to.."

A loud blast from the far end of the tunnel cuts him off, shaking the walls all around them. Megan's head turned sharply, whipping Yoongi in the face with her long ponytail as she squinted through the dust.

Shifting her lenses to night vision, a barrage of beasts with big bodies, little heads, long tails, and glowing eyes rushed into the tunnel from a hole made assumably them were clambering towards them.

"AishShibal.." Yoongi mutters in Boraean behind Megan, whose eyes are bugged out at the swarm of beasts approaching.

"THE FUCK IS THAT?" she and Phor exclaim in sync from across the galaxy, but Yoongi merely grabs the stunned woman by her wrist and takes off running.

The two dash away from the wave of encroaching creatures, Yoongi letting go of Megan to tap at something on his wrist before yelling into it in his native tongue.

Megan grimaced at the barrage of chaos around her, wishing she knew what he was saying so she could at least get a clue on what was going on.

"Phor! Help a bitch out!TranslateAGHHH!! ..." she yells, screaming out of reflex when she hears one of the creatures roar waaaay too close to her.

Phor pushes himself away from his desk and spins around on his chair to face another, where a matching set of monitors and projections fills the wall. He cracks his paw knuckles quickly before typing at the speed of light, coding and transmitting an upgrade to the earpiece Megan was wearing.

Seconds pass and the breathy foreign language coming from Yoongi now sounds more like Luminish and Megan starts to pick up what he is saying.

".....about 100 sentinels spotted, Captain! They've already flooded the west tunnel and are headed straight for the core. I'm on my way but I got sidetracked. Civilian in tow. Negative Captain, a woman. Yes sir. Coordinating our evacuation."

Megan furrows her brow curiously.

"Sentinels?Core?Civilian? Who me? The Hot Girl Coach??" she says to herself all while keeping up her stride in heels.

"FOLLOW ME!!" Yoongi yells, interrupting Megan's train of thought to yank her towards him. They make a sharp turn, placing them in a corridor to the side of the main tunnel. A gust of wind hits them as the flood of sentinels rushes past them to leave an eery silence in their wake.

Megan is still catching her breath when Yoongi begins stepping deeper into the smaller tunnel. She was doubled over with her hands on her knees, panting heavily. She lifted a finger that signaled for him to give her a moment.

"Wheew shit. Wheeew...ok...waitwaitwait.." she mumbles and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

"They are gone but they will be back. They're looking for the core," he states all too plainly.

Yoongi pauses to begin taking stock of his weapons, an array of holstered handguns and blades at his waist. Two long swords are sheathed behind his back and Megan takes note of them when he turns to pull out of the guns on his hip, turning it to the side and examining it closely.

"Core?" Megan exhaled, finally standing upright and breathing somewhat normally. Yoongi looks at her and nods.

"Purpura's core. Source of all life on the planet. They want to eat it."

Megan had heard of malevolent races that sought to conquer and destroy other planets. Luminasia was actually founded under such a rule long ago before hundreds of years of fighting made it what it was today. As time passed, talks of wars and the world eaters had dwindled as peace across the galaxy seemed to be achieved.

But it seemed as though evil still lurked and had taken and more covert approach in carrying out its agenda. 

It didn't seem like Yoongi was in the mood to explain further since he went quiet, leaving the floor open for Megan while he assessed his arsenal.

"Ok? So what now? We're just gonna hide in here and wait for those things to circle back?"

Yoongi makes a sound under his mask at the word we, shaking his head and looking over his shoulder into the looming darkness deeper into the crevice they entered.

"No. I'm taking you to my captain and he'll give me orders on how to proceed. Come.." he says as he finishes prepping, lifting his gaze to find Megan watching him.

She stares at him blankly, a soft scowl forming between her brows.

"Well fuck! All I came here to do was pop in, get the rock, and pop out on the next back to L-town! Not get caught up in some end of the world ass shit! What if he's a fed? What if this captain finds out what Im really here for and locks me up in some purple bars jail cell with criminals and shit?!! The fuck I look like getting stuck on Purpura and I have a nail appointment next week.." she says to herself. Glancing behind herself towards where she and Yoongi had just escaped being trampled to death by those things, she pokes her lip out thoughtfully.

"Please. There isn't much time" Yoongi's voice cuts through her inner monologuing, not sounding any more patient than he did before.

He extends his hand to her and Megan's eyes drop it suspiciously.

"..I mean...he did just save your ass, Megan. He could have just left us out there. Maybe he and this captain can help find you a way out of here without ending up something's entree." her inner voice throws into the pool of doubt in her mind, the image of her being picked out of some freaky-looking monster's teeth rippling in its reflection.

She sighs heavily in submission, stepping towards Yoongi in preparation to follow.

"Fuck it."

[runicmagitek]

Sun-Kissed (Keitaro/Natsuno - 13 Sentinels: Aegis Rim)

(( a bday gift for @violetivy161 🥳🎉🎂🎈enjoy this silly beach episode fic, featuring our faves!! ))

Two hundred kilometers west of the facility was an ocean. Thanks to Project Ark’s stored DNA and cloning technology, the compatibles introduced new flora and fauna to the ecosystem. But that wasn’t the only appeal of the location. Once summer was in full swing, chatter of a beach trip echoed in the labs and farm fields. Besides, everyone had worked hard to ensure humanity’s survival over the past year. Why not take a break? A vacation, even!

So they did exactly that. The ocean ebbed and flowed, glittering beneath the noon sun. Gulls soared along the coast while a pod of dolphins played along the horizon. Laughter sweetened the salty air, beach towels unfurled, and—

“That’s it! We’re settling this, once and for all!”

Keitaro flinched. He finished setting up his umbrella and hoped to relax beneath its shade. Maybe he’d read one of the books he packed or sketch his surroundings in a notebook. All of that fizzled out as his best friend yelled inches from his face.

“Takatoshi-san,” he replied, more confused than intimidated, “what are you talking about?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten!” Takatoshi gestured down the beach. “We must decide what Yakushiji is cooking for lunch: yakisoba pan or hemborger!”

[read more on AO3]

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

Bertalan Székely (Hungarian, 1835-1910) Woman of Eger, 1867 Hungarian National Gallery On 29 September, 1552, an army of 70,000 Turks gathered at Szolnok and went on to attack the castle of Eger. The defenders of the castle numbered all together 2000, including serfs with no understanding of warfare, and many women and children. Nevertheless, the defenders of the castle, under the leadership of István Dobó, repelled the attacks, and on 18 October, the Turks retreated from the castle. The most famous contemporary account of the heroic defence of the castle was Sebestyén “Lantos” Tinódi’s ballad of 1553, the Fight for the Castle of Eger. Mihály Horváth called attention to the role of women in the siege in his 19th -century work. In his composition, Bertalan Székely wanted to express the Hungarians’ disadvantage in the struggle, as he describes it in his journal. By depicting the central female figure with the attackers in front of her and the castle in flames behind her, he evokes a feeling of true heroism, while creating an eternal symbol of patriotic sacrifice. - Iván Boldizsár explains the historical background to Székely’s Women of Eger: “In the sixteenth century, when the Turks had conquered the greater part of Hungary, Eger became the protecting bulkwark of the northern regions. After Buda, the capital, had fallen to the Turks, they tried to extend their dominion northwards to the Carpathians in order to carry through outflanking movements towards Vienna in the west and the southern territories of Poland in the east. Eger already had a fortress, built by Italian experts in fortification, to guard the valley which was the natural line of advance to the north. It was on these walls that the memorable battle for the defense of Eger was fought. A garrison of not more than two thousand, under István Dobó, resisted the challenge of a Turkish force said to be a hundred and fifty thousand strong. The citizens of Eger fought with dauntless courage, and when the fort seemed to be in danger of capitulation, the women joined the battle, gurling down cauldrons of boiling water and tar against the onrushing enemy. The struggle was finally crowned with victory, and the Turks turned back. This great feat has passed into literature. Not only dies every schoolchild in Hungary learn of it, but works of fiction have been written round it, among them the popular ’Stars of Eger’ by Géza Gárdonyi, a lasting work of Hungarian youth literature…. The fortress consists of a hill enclosed by massive walls, and honeycombed with underground passages at three different levels. It was this complicated system of underground defenses which enabled the defenders to face an enemy of vastly superior strength….Here and there are recesses in the walls of the corridors. During the siege sentinels sat here watching peas placed on a drum. The trembling of the peas showed where the Turks were beginning to undermine the walls, and by this simple device the defenders could know when to take measures to avert the danger by drilling counter-mines.“

[the-faramir]

Extinction Curse Session 2024/06/12

The Siege of Willowside

Day 3 (Part 2)

With the party ready to enter the sea caves, Zookdar led the way, as he could see in the darkness with his dark vision. Midori followed closely behind with Galon. Lysander brought up the rear.

At the bottom of the stairs, the path turned to the right to head northward. Zookdar noted a chalk arrow on the wall, pointing right at him. Zookdar held up a hand to halt the adventurers as they passed by an entrance to a cave on the left. "Let me take a look before we head in. Hmmm," Zookdar mused, "a sea cave. A pile of bones at the far end near a tunnel where the seawater enters. And about a foot of water on the floor. You can drown in a foot of water. Plus, I suspect this cavern is a trap of sorts. Let's move on."

The party walked northward to a split in the passageway, leading downward to the west, to a dead-end alcove to the north, and to another cavern in the northeast. "Let's go to the northeast," Zookdar suggested.

The cavern opened up into a wide area on higher ground with only a few shallow puddles on the floor. Midori noted an elegant, grooved pattern on the wall and patterns etched into the floor, depicting reptilian figures. "Says here, 'Praise to the Water Lizard.' Ha ha, we're off to see the Lizard: the wonderful Lizard of Water!"

Suddenly, in the east side of the cavern, what originally appeared to be a pile of overcoats made of wet, rotten leather began to move. Five humanoid forms slowly stood up from the pile and shambled toward the adventurers, snarling mindlessly.

Zookdar sprang into action with a battle cry, which seemed not to affect the approaching enemies. He followed up with strikes from his gnome flickmace, which hit but seemed to do little damage.

Midori moved closer to the action. She sang a verse to inspire courage:

🎶🎶🎶 In the misty caves 'neath the general store Stands a band of heroes, brave evermore With weapons in hand and spells at the ready They face the undead, their courage steady 🎶🎶🎶

Closer to the enemy, she took a good look at them and tried to identify them. "They're waterlogged undead of some sort? I dunno what kind or whether they have a special attack."

As if in reply, the sodden sentinel in the lead opened its mouth and retched up a cone of unctuous, reeking seawater, soaking Midori and Zookdar.

"Awwww! Ewwwww! Nasty!" Midori complained, "It got in my fur!"

Meanwhile, Zookdar yelped in pain. "Void damage! That's their special attack!"

Running in from the hallway, Lysander readied his hex blaster gun for a shot. Stopping to take aim, he fired and hit one of the sentinels.

Galon ran in to get close to an enemy, pounding it with a flurry of blows.

The battle stretched out much longer than the heroes had expected, their attacks not harming the undead as they had hoped. Eventually, Midori landed a critical strike against her foe, cutting it down.

"Yes!" Midori shouted, "How do ya like me now, bitch?!?" She raised her hands in victory....

...just as the fallen foe erupted, spraying its tainted guts all over the party. Fortunately, Midori was able to dodge, but the others were not quite as lucky and received a hard bludgeoning from the flying entrails.

The remaining four undead hit the heroes hard, forcing Midori to retreat to a ranged attack distance.

"Things are not going well," Lysander yelled to his allies, "Let me try something to hold them back!" He called on his magic to form a force cage to restrain the enemy, trapping three of them.

The fourth foe narrowly escaped and shambled toward Midori to attack her. "Ow! Quit it! Guys, I'm not doin' so great over here!" The three trapped undead pounded against the walls of the force cage, causing the bars to crack slightly. "They're gonna break through! What are we gonna do?"

[rabbitcruiser]

Monument Valley, AZ (No. 23)

The West and East Mitten Buttes (also known as the Mittens) are two buttes in the Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park in northeast Navajo County, Arizona. When viewed from the south, the buttes appear to be two giant mittens with their thumbs facing inwards.

The Mittens are about 0.6 mi (0.97 km) from the Arizona–Utah state line and West Mitten Butte is 1.1 mi (1.8 km) northeast of the park headquarters. The summit of West Mitten Butte is 6,176 ft (1,882 m) and East Mitten Butte is 6,226 ft (1,898 m)[3] in elevation. The Mittens form a triangle with Merrick Butte about 2⁄3 mi (1.1 km) to the south and, with Sentinel Mesa, a more extensive plateau, towards the northwest. At the End of March and mid-September for a few days only at sunset the Mitten Shadow occurs, the West Mitten shadow appears on the East Mitten.

The buttes are made of three principal rock layers. The lowest layer is Organ Rock Shale, the middle is de Chelly Sandstone, and the top layer is the Moenkopi Formation, capped by Shinarump Conglomerate.

Source: Wikipedia