#They have docks specifically for that purpose

[changeling-rin]

Gen's curiosities that have not appeared yet?

(Note Anon was here)

Until it just appeared last chapter, I headcanoned that Gen was allergic to shellfish and/or most ocean-based foods altogether, because he's spent the first seventeen years of his life in the sky and has literally never had a shrimp before. This is now, of course, DL-canon, but I wanted to include it here anyways because I feel like it's an excellent bit of character-building

You know that thing that happens when people who live at higher altitudes come down to sea-level and basically get a mild version of being 'high' due to the thicker concentration of oxygen? Yeah, Gen's got that, he's had that the entire time. He's used to it now, but back during his adventure on the very first day he touched the Surface in Faron Woods, he spent about twelve hours just sprinting around and spazzing straight out of his own skin

He's been a vegetarian for the first seventeen years of his life, and he only tried actual meat within the past year. Once again, this coincides directly with him coming down to the Surface

He and Dusk share a favorite food, this being pumpkins

His Loftwing was the first Epona and I will not be accepting criticism on this. She basically said 'Oh no you don't,' when he died and the Hero's Spirit reincarnated, and then she followed him through the afterlife via sheer willpower and stubbornness.

He had no concept of the Three Golden Goddesses until meeting the Chain, because in his society the only Goddess is Hylia. As a result, all his swears and emphatics are Hylia-based, although he will pick up a few of the more common Golden-Trio-based ones the more time he spends with the other Links

He has precisely one (1) aptitude for magic and it happens to lie in the very specific subsection of the Light branch known as sealing. However, he cannot do it himself like Zelda can; he needs a conduit to channel through. Hilariously, he's absolute garbage at literally anything else magic-wise (which is ironic since he'd actually make for a decent weather mage if the Water branch wanted anything to do with him)

His favorite color is yellow

His depth perception and spatial awareness is fantastic. His grasp on the concept of terminal velocity is... not. Oh, he's very aware of distance, vertical or otherwise, and can tell you the measurement with surprising accuracy, but he has no amount of self-preservation attached to it. Why shouldn't he throw himself off this cliff? It'll get him to the bottom so much faster than climbing down. What do you mean, 'fall damage', sounds like an illness?

And finally, he can read clouds in the same way that a fortune teller pretends to read palms, except that when he does it he's accurate. "It's gonna rain in about an hour," he says, squinting up at a few wisps of cirrus scurrying across the upper atmosphere of an otherwise cloudless day. One hour and twelve minutes later, in the middle of a torrential downpour, he says, "Yep, thought so."

[maryse127]

Me: yeah I got this newsletter saying the PS5 was in stock earlier this afternoon but I just checked and it sold out already XD

My dad: you didn't immediately buy one?!!

Me: Of course not it's stupid expensive

[anim-ttrpgs]

drow rpg thoughts

Yesterday I got excited and did a design outline for another game, this time about drow. Don't worry, the Eureka Patreon updates will keep coming monthly and we are even close to another free public beta release, but i have been under a lot of stress and might need to work on something else for a few weeks after that, even if only because i think it could actually be something i could make fully playable within a short time.

It is based on a particular setting written a while back by me and a close friend, the purpose of which was to reimagine drow with reasonable post-hoc explanations for the way they are portrayed in Forgotten Realms. It would be a very specific game, sharing a few design ideas with Eureka's rules, but not as broad and generalized.

This rpg will certainly come with a bunch of lore, but for right now the only thing you need to know is that in this setting, "Drow" is a title and referrs only to the female warrior-caste of dark elf society.

Many of the mechanics will be asymmetrical. A “party” will consist of one Drow and any number of her servants, with the goal of surviving incredibly dense hierarchical social situations

>problem will come up that could embarrass the Drow, threatening her Reputation (stat)

>Drow has to delegate tasks to servants that will fix the problem

>due to stupidly dense and impossible etiquette, actually delegating these tasks is not very clear or easy. Screwing up tasks and failing etiquette will reduce a servant’s perceived Competence (stat)

>due to high pressure, impossible working conditions, and garbled instructions, these tasks are not easy and are very likely to be screwed up

>the Drow has to contend with and smooth over the screwed up tasks. She can lose Reputation if she doesn’t discipline incompetence, but harsh discipline is only going to make the servants less able to complete the task.

>Failure state for the servants is if their Competence ever reaches 0, and failure state for everyone is if the Drow’s Reputation ever reaches 0.

Half the Game Master’s job will be keeping track of the strict and deliberately impossibly overcomplicated etiquette by which servants have to address Drow, and docking their Competence when they screw up(and possibly docking Drow Reputation if anybody else sees her letting that slide), and keeping track of the strict militaristic code of honor and (evil) morality that all Drow are expected to exemplify whether they actually enjoy being cruel psychopaths or not, and docking Reputation when the Drow fails to uphold the right standard of evilness in front of other Drow.

The servant part of the “party” will either have to humorously manipulate Drow while hiding that anything is wrong, or they and their Drow will all have to all work together to maintain a facade of this brutal hierarchy

Drow lose Reputation and servants lose Competence when they fail to adhere to social etiquette that covers like 15 pages of instructions (designed to be impossible to follow). In that way, it might be considered similar to Paranoia, with a similar sense of humor.

Some of the servants’ etiquette would be like

>don’t speak out loud to a Drow unless told to by that Drow

>at the same time, don’t remain silent when a Drow expects them to answer a question even if she didn’t explicitly say they could speak

And this is why the Drow has to be a PC, because this same servant etiquette is a pitfall for the Drow. if she doesn’t make her expectations explicitly clear, it puts the servants in an impossible situation, where they will embarrass her with their incompetence(even though it’s her fault) and she will be socially obligated to go out of her way to discipline them. Of course in the in-setting society, the fault lies with the servant, because they should have intuited when they were being given permission to speak or not. Some Drow will be self-aware enough to realize that they caused this situation, most won't.

The structure of their society will often incentivize a tactful Drow to "roll with" mistakes made by servants, e.g. "No, my servants did have permission to address me out loud, you just weren't clever enough to catch it."

Each will have to cover for the other, and/or hide things from each other and the Drow's social rivals.

[evillesbianvillain]

The thing with Veilguard, is that a lot of people who didn't like the videogame put all the blame on EA becuase the development was rushed and messy and some idiot had the idea to make it a multiplayer MOBA game or whatever the fuck it was going on and that can excuse some of the stuff going on in Veilguard:

everybody calling you Rook, a nickname a dwarf youve known for a month gave you, instead of your surname, especially ridicolous if you are a Grey Warden, you know, a member of a paramilitary order, and your boss calls you that. How certain factions, especially the Lords of Fortune but also the Mourn Watchers and Veil Jumpers are underdeveloped (but according to John Epler they decided to make less sidequests to focus better on a few of them and they ended up just being fetch quests or "kill these guys" for the most). Why you can't directly talk to your companions and ask them questions but have to stalk them through the lighthouse and hope they reveal something of themselves to your other companions (again, John Epler said this was a purpose choice they made and its a stupid one but I want to break a spear and say that it was probably because they didn't have the time to code or write every direct dialogue with Rook but I don't really know how these things work). Not being able to visit Minrathous.

But so much of it is an issue that started in the writing and developer room.

You cannot roleplay in the role playing game. Scratch the "there are not serious consequences of your action" part, we can file that under rushed development if we want to be nice. But you can only play as a nice, well meaning, always slightly sarcastic heroic Rook and that was a deliberate choice. You're basically only playing as purple Hawke. I don't want to play as purple Hawke. For an instance, I chose - obviously - the Grey Warden backstory (which I hated, all the backstories are the same, heroic Rook winning against a foe but disobeying orders and being punished by the mean higher ups) and when you do the mirror scene I chose the dialogue option that said "I have been impulsive when I saved that village and could've made things worse", but then when I'm talking to the first Warden and he reprimends me I can ONLY defend my actions and not agree with him or apologize for them. I wanted to play as a stern warden, respectful of the order and its authority, but the game doesn't let me do that.

The whitewashing of the narrative. Every faction (except the Grey Wardens) is super duper nice, they are all freedom fighters with XXI century politics. All the leaders of every faction believe you at face values about Super Evil Elven Gods and are willing to give you their help to slay them (except the Grey Wardens). All the factions are stripped of any nuance or of the infamous Bioware's grey morality (except the Grey Wardens, as the game, at any step, wants to reming you how stupidly secretive, kinda cultist-y and fucked up they are and how that is not a Good Thing). Especially annoying with the Crows, the local assassin's group of Antiva that is renowned for buying desinfranchised kids and torture them to make them the perfect assassins, and the Lords of Fortune, who are now the anti Indiana Jones of Thedas (but still tomb jackasses).

The whitewashing, or purposeful ignoring, of social conflict in Thedas. This game is set up partly in Tevinter and specifically in a district of Minrathous, but we not once encounter the slavery that the Imperium is built on, or racism against elves and qunari. And don't tell me "there are no slaves because Dock Town is a poor district of Minrathous", that is not how empires built on slave labour work, especially considering that Tevinter has always been based on the Roman Empire. Who do you think loads and unloads the cargo ships that dock there? You think slaves are only kept in the house and occasionally used for blood magic rituals? Not to mention that the faction for Dock Town is the Shadow Dragons, whos main work is freeing slaves, but not once we do a quest that revolves around that. And it's funny that they abandoned the entire issue with the mages and the Chantry "because we are in North Thedas" when the Chantry is a egemonical religion in Thedas. Zevran tells us that templars in Antiva guard mages like "jealous husbands", the Circle of Mages of Rivain was destroyed because they accused women there or summoning demons and the Anderfells are known for having the most pious followers of the Chantry in Thedas. I understand not making the mage issue a focus like it has been for the past three games, but to just dropt it like that is ridicolous. They didn't even do anything with the Tevinter Chantry and the Black Divine, something, I think, everybody was curious about. Ah but don't worry! We have the main dalish companion apologize 3000 times because the elves are at fault for everything going on in the world.

The characters are all shallow. There are very little important NPCs in this game and you can't directly talk to any of them if not during specific cutscenes during the story. John Epler (it's always him or Weekes lmao) said they wanted to avoid meaningless cameos but then they threw in the game characters from other games like Morrigan, Dorian, Isabela, Maevaris who was actually not from a game, but a comic, so I would've liked to know more about her, and doesn't let you interact in any way with them. Varric, for the love of god, there is no way for someone who is playing Dragon Age for the first time to give a shit about this guy. Who are these people. What do they want. Who are the leaders of these factions. The companions as well. You cannot talk to them but have to hope they will say something about themselves during random party banters in the Lighthouse and then they will have crafted cutscenes for the stupidest shit like Lucanis making Harding drink coffee. You know how some people dislike Varric, Garrus and Liara because the games want you to like them? This is what it feels with all the companions, and the forced found family is so on the nose it becomes unbearing. The romances are underwhelming, or so I am told by everyone. Davrin, who is in my opinion the best character in this game, has most of his character and quest revolving around a fucking rat with wings and all the stuff about his relationship with the dalish or wardens comes up in random party banters, again, instead of him telling me directly about it. The only relationship between companions that I found slightly compelling is between Davrin and Lucanis because they are the ONLY characters with an actual conflict going on, every other conflict is resolved immediately either by Rook stepping up and going "stop fightiiiiing why are you fightiiiiiing" or by the constrast being actually a misunderstanding, hey isn't it nice how every one of our companions are super duper nice guys who can do no wrong (like Bellara and Taash). Do you miss Mordin Solus? I know I do.

Connected to the characters issue, why the hell is the approval/disapproval system even a thing? It's impossible to lose approval from characters in this game, while they'll approve literally you standing in their vicinity. I've never worked SO HARD to try and lose approval with my companions, and it's impossible. Just, throw it away at this point, you have already implemented another system (the bond one) and are trying to work on a mass effect model, so atp just do that.

The villains oh my fucking god. This ties with the whitewashing of every good faction I have to ally with, as all the villains are super evil "bullies" with nothing else going on behind them. Maybe the only villain with something different going on is Isseiya, but all the others are faceless, corrupted evil hordes to be mowed down with Super Duper Evil leaders that have nothing going on if not a desire for Power and Conquest? Do you remember when Gereon Alexius was a desperate father who would've done everything to save his son from the Blight? Do you remember when Calpernia was an ex slave with a dream of revitalizing the Imperium by uplifting the slaves as citizens? Do you remember Meredith and the Arishok? Do you remember Loghain?? And like every side or personal quest villain/antagonist, the Evanuris are ONLY driven by power and power and power and they are so evil because they want power more power still power.

The missing/ignored plot threads. They hinted at us for years about the upcoming Tevinter/Qunari war and that went nowhere. What about the mentioned crisis/internal war/split between the Grey Wardens? Nothing. Where are Fen'hare's agents? Apparently they left Solas' side because he was a meanie and we know that because of a reddit AMA. The awakened darkspawns? Darkspawns now are officially a mindless horde and [insert GRRM piece on orc genocide] so don't worry about it.

They want a new slate in case they ever get to work on another Dragon Age in the future, and that's so obvious from certain narrative choice they made in the game, all happening far far away from us and that we know throw some fucking letters the Inquisitor sends to us and the most glaring one is the complete destruction of Southern Thedas, especially Ferelden.

The combat is... polarizing for me. On one hand, it is a mildly enjoyable action combat, and when you get over the heartbreak of never being able to build a mage like in Origins and having some tactic going on, it is fine, it is flashy enough to be enjoyable at least. But the enemy variety is terrible, the bosses are reused to hell and back and on top of that they are for the most normal enemies that are given a boss health bar (if i think about it, im pretty sure there is only one unique boss ive met so far, the archdemon, and it's such a pathetic boss fight)

The art direction. While I love, and I mean LOVE, the character design for your companions and whenever I look at them I get mad because such good design... wasted for these characters and this game. I do not like the art direction. I hate how everything has been scifi-ed, the eluvians now have rgb lights and they look like twitch streamers PCs or prothean artifacts, Bellara's magical gloves are fucking nanomachines and she literally works her magic like a mechanic. Not to mention the architecture and the neon signs in Dock Town. Most of the armors are ugly as hell and I want to talk with whoever designed the Lords of Fortune armors.

This scifi-cation carries out in the soundtrack as well, with a subpar score from Hans Zimmer.

I understand that it's not possible to work around every single choice made in the past three games, but some stuff is too important to just, leave it alone. Northern Thedas is still in Thedas and it's politically connected to it. Who the Divine is should be important, if my warden has died should matter, if Morrigan had a child should matter. They don't even make her mention the hero of ferelden EVER, whenever people talk about her they say she was a witch of the wilds and then worked with the Inquisition. ISN'T THERE A BIG GAP IN YOUR RESUME, MORRIGAN? Shouldn't a Grey Warden Blackwall be at Weisshaupt/Hossberg? But then, even the choices they have you make at the start regarding your Inquisitor are red herrings, the only thing the game cares about is wether your Lavellan romances Solas or not.

This game thinks we're stupid. I am constantly explained, over and over again what is going on. I am playing this game. I just saw the scene that has been recapped by Varric and then recapped by a text and then recapped by the characters chilling around a table commenting the scene. Not to mention all the time Rook and the companions say "We need to be in our best mind place to win this fight, we need to focus on ourselves, we need to think about ourselves first and then we can focus on the Evil Elven Gods" which is a little less on the nose way to say "do our personal quests". Insanely PG13 game.

Therapy speak.

And I think I'm done, at least for now. I have a lot of other issues but most of them are nitpicky and it's just me being annoying.

[autistichalsin]

In Sharess Carress there's a nymph that will ask for a companion's deepest desire (e.g. Gale can answer with wisdom, Wyll freedom, etc). Currently Halsin, along with Minthy and Jaheira, have no character specific response to this. What answer do you think Halsin would give?

(Video for reference: https://youtu.be/Y6Gu_WL8V0M)

I was just playing that part the other day and wondering myself.

I think that Halsin's answer would be wanted. Not sexually. But wanted as:

A member of the team

A partner

A community member

A friend

An elder

Because think about it. He lost his family. He lost most of his fellow Druids, and when he became a leader, he lost his friendship with most of the rest, and many began to resent him for his failings as a leader. He then had to abandon the Grove entirely to give it the chance to recover with Francesca's help, though of course this wasn't entirely altruistic since he also did it to help the Shadow-cursed Lands. He admits he struggles with not having a sense of purpose without the Shadow Curse, and when discussing what comes next, one dialogue option leads to him saying he asks nothing of the player but to be allowed to stay at their side. He says many things that indicate this time, traveling with the party, was among the happiest of his life, particularly in the epilogue. But in that same epilogue, he shows he doesn't think the player truly wants to stay with him, and before that, his response to various things indicate he doesn't dare believe his friendship with the team is meant to last, as important as it is to him; if the player says, on the docks, that they part ways there, he laments that it was "always destined to be so if [they] prevailed". And of course there's his dialogue to a romanced player where he is STUNNED they want to come with him to the commune.

So. What would Halsin want to hear more than anything? That he is wanted, cared for, cherished, that he doesn't need to do anything more than he already is. That THIS will last, that he will not be alone anymore, that people aren't just using him as a stepping stone to something better. He is wanted, for him, not for what he can do for others. He is wanted.

[startreksetplans]

Olympic Class idea

Had a (non-canon) idea about the Olympic class - what if it could saucer separate...

The two parts of the ship

Sphere - holds the warp core & associated systems, nacelles, general engineering, bridge, crew quarters, and crew facilities

Module - Hospital that can be sealed off from the main ship (in case of contagions). It has a shuttlebay to receive medical shuttles, docking ports for ships. Also probably a lot of transporters.

Why separate? Sometimes a hospital must remain in orbit of a planet for quite a long time. Why not have the drive do something else in the mean time.

The Sphere could dock with other modules

Colony Module - carries all the colonists, supplies, construction material etc. When delivered to site, the module becomes an orbiting space station, providing docking and transporter systems for supply ships.

Cargo Module - either bulk freight, or specialised hazardous material such as Neutronic Fuel. Ships going "where no one has gone before" need resupply now and again in the field rather than turn around and head back home for supplies.

Science Stations - manned or unmanned, easier to build at a construction facility than on-site near that black hole you want to study

Sensor Pods - the Olympic sphere could accompany science ships with large mission specific sensor pods. Planet scanning MRI machines for example. [side note: this is what I think the Oberth has - a large uninhabited sensor pod. Held away from the ship due to dangerous emissions. It was meant to be scanning the entire planet, not just surface scans.]

With separation, the Olympic goes from a single purpose to a flexible multi-purpose support ship.

In these pictures, it looks as if the mount for the nacelles struts is resting on top of the long body module.

The original model blueprints for the ship model had different nacelles - perhaps the sphere section had an in-universe refit.

If you wanted to modernise / refit an Olympic ship, taking out the one ship does not prevent the modules beings used by another Olympic in the meantime.

[tagsecretsanta]

From @thundergirl007

From @thundergirl007 to @arwensarboretum

John and EOS

All 5 brothers spending quality time together (With John on Earth??).

I'm glad we're in this together" - said by any of the brothers.

Preferences: No shipping please. Rating: General Favourite character: John.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

It’s strange, the way the heartbeat of Thunderbird Five almost blends into the nothingness when the space monitor is here constantly. A tranquillity that very few people will ever get to experience in the huge, wide universe.

The pulsing of the life support system, the humming of the radio, the hissing of the lights when the motion sensors activate as he moves around the space station.

Loud in its own right, completely silent in the best way.

And yet, from all the way up here - the vastness and emptiness of orbit - he can still hear the sound of what he believes to be Gordon blaring out Christmas songs around the Tracy Island villa.

“GORDON!”

The voice shouted down the radio grills, catching him off guard somewhat. Presumably to try and find the mischievous redhead through every available IR channel on our communications network.

“Scott sounds in considerable distress, John.”

“That he does, EOS.”

Weightlessly floating his way to the central control room, where the main communication centre is, EOS has already pulled up what appears to be Scott's irritated figure on the hologram.

The image was a bit hard to make out specifically what it was, but it looked like Scott was covered in dust. A fine white dust that caked him, like he'd walked into the worlds oldest building and fell right into a pile of old rubble.

A strange image for someone currently on Tracy Island.

"Everything ok down there, Scott?" John asked, doing his very best to suppress the laugh, as juvenile as that would be. He looked ridiculous.

"Can you find me our blond haired mischief maker from up there, John? I've got a bone to pick with him." He ruffled his hair and the dust flew off him in all directions.

"Scott appears to be covered in some kind of fine substance. For what purpose is unclear."

EOS' summary of the situation was apt, and he hoped that Scott hadn't heard her, although it would have been funny if he had.

"Why, what has he done now?" he asked, watching Scott's communicator signal move around the villa from Thunderbird 1's hangar to the lounge.

"Do you want to take a wild guess, brother?"

"Re-enacted the bathroom escapade from when he was 7?"

"Close, but not quite."

Scott's hologram then disappeared from the monitor, but John could practically hear him storming around on the island looking for the brother in question. Whether Scott knew he was in the lounge, "innocently" reading a book, is debatable. Either way, he was making his way there with a ruthless determination that he did not want to miss a single moment of. Gordon was certainly going to be in some serious brotherly trouble.

Now would be a seriously bad time for a distress call.

"Oh Scott!" said brother - sat on the lounge with his feet up - all smiles, was holding a comic book in front of him, "to what do I owe the pleasure this time?"

"Don't you act like you don't know!" Scott roared from the stairs.

"I swear, I didn't do anything -!"

"You made me look like the Ghost of Christmas Past, you stupid -!"

"Is this a situation that popcorn would be for, John?"

"Oh, yes it is EOS."

Virgil Tracy was just passing through Thunderbird 2's hangar to get to the lounge when he heard the sound of the space elevator docking in its place and decided to take a minor detour to greet the arrival.

As expected, John was still in his IR gear, with only a small bag of belongings brought down with him, and Virgil would bet money that they were books and underwear.

"Welcome home, John!" he greeted, opening his arms out for an embrace that John welcomed.

"Good to see you too, Virg. How was the journey back from Colorado?"

Virgil patted a hand on his stomach lightly. "Long, I'm definitely ready for some lunch. Running around a power plant really did a number on my appetite."

The pair made their way up the stairs and into the villa proper. The heat hit Virgil like a train as they entered the lounge on their way to the kitchen. It was something all of them had to get used to when they moved out onto the other hemisphere from where they were born and raised in Kansas. The scorching heat in the December months was something he just about managed to get used to in recent years, mainly because it was something of a family tradition to watch Home Alone and the Chicago snowfall was such a nostalgic sight that for just those moments, they forget that snow here in the South Pacific isn't possible.

Even if snow isn't a part of recent Tracy family holiday festivities, the lounge was still warmly decorated with tinsel and a tree up by the piano that everyone had helped decorate. Even MAX had helped put up the tinsel with Brains (although the less said about the methods, the better). Gold and red and blue trimmed the balcony and handrails, little bells hung from the lampshades on the wall, and a little singing robin statuette was situated with pride of place on the little table in the centre of the room. The poor little thing was their mother's, it was old and battered, the little "branch" it perched on has been broken and fixed, and Brains had tinkered with its mechanics to make it sing sweetly again, not the distorted noise it used to make years ago.

And lastly, perfectly placed on the tree, hanging from a middle branch, was the last family photo taken at Christmastime that featured their mother.

It's been put on that tree every year since she died, and that tradition will never change. The seven of them, smiling at the camera with a snowman in the middle of the frame. Little Alan barely as tall as the thing they had made, holding onto his hat and giving a wide, toothy smile. He probably doesn't remember that Christmas.

“Where is everyone? The kitchen’s just as empty as the rest of the house.” Virgil mused, noting that it didn’t even look like the automated kitchen module had been switched on to make anything for lunch.

John just shrugged.

“Oh well. I’ll put something on, we need to have a good catch up now you’re back with us.”

Lunch wouldn’t take long to prepare, especially given that all Virgil really wanted was a sandwich, and John probably didn’t want much more than that either. He simply took his spot at the dinner table, the one he always used down here, with a more careful than usual descent into the seat. Virgil made the pair the same thing. Ham and cheddar sandwiches, which they were both eager to dig into once Virgil brought the plates over.

It was nice, just the two of them. Aside from rescues and the occasional private conversation through their comms channel, Virgil didn’t often have one-on-one chats with John. Mainly because they were birds of a feather, very much enjoying their own company before anything else. John listening for distress calls, reading, studying the stars. Virgil playing the piano or painting in the lounge.

“Do you know if my packages arrived?” John asked.

“I’m not sure, I didn’t see anything yesterday, and today I’ve been in Colorado.”

“That’s a shame. No one is getting presents this year then.”

“I think we can live with that just this once John, it’s just good to have you earthside for a few days.”

“We’ll see if I feel the same way after 24 hours in gravity with both Gordon and Alan.”

“You mean you won’t even stay for Grandma’s Christmas disaster – I mean, dinner?”

“I think I can hear a distress call from 24 hours in the future, Virgil get to Thunderbird 2 –“

The pair laughed, and almost on cue, the sound of distant voices, running footsteps, and a crash from somewhere upstairs. Getting closer and closer with every passing second, the voices soon distinguished themselves to be Alan, Gordon and Scott.

“Come here! I will have my vengeance!”

“Gotta catch up first, slowpoke!”

The trio pounded down the stairs. Scott, then Alan and Gordon.

Scott looked like he had barely enough time to turn the corner from the stairs before the Terrible Two were on his tail. Not nearly as covered in whatever-it-was-powder as he was before, presumably all the running had dusted him off somewhat.

Right behind him were said terrible two, and they seemed to have suffered a similar fate as the eldest brother. From the smell of them as they ran past, whatever it was, was sickly sweet. Powdered sugar, perhaps? Either way they left a trail of sugar in their wake.

Scott had run around the kitchen island, and Gordon and Alan waited for him at either side, pinning him to his spot with an almost military efficiency that even Scott should have seen coming.

Did Brains invent a de-aging machine or something, what is going on with Scott?  He’s not acted like this since those boys were tiny terrors.

“Hi John!” Alan turned around and cheerily waved, before giving his attention back to the eldest brother.

“Good to see you Alan,” John chuckled, “and you Gordon. Scott”

“Not now, it’s payback time.”

“You started this, Gordon! Don’t dish it if you can’t take it!”

Virgil should not have been surprised that Gordon took advantage of his and Scott’s absence from the island to play a practical joke with Scott for him to find on his return. What was surprising is that Scott somehow fell for it regardless.

Finishing up the last of his sandwich, John stood up, ignoring the war games going on elsewhere in the kitchen. “Well, this has been fun. I’ll go get changed, can’t be looking like this all day, I’ll melt.”

“I’ll wash up then,” Virgil started to get up too, picking up both John’s and his own plate. “John.”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad we could all be here together for the holidays. Even if it seems that the house will be dusted with sugar for days.”

Virgil side eyed the footprints and trails of sugar from the kitchen floor to the stairs and dreaded to think what it was like upstairs in the living quarters.

“Glad to be here. Just like old times.”

Gordon was the one to break the stalemate over there, and he positively lunged for the eldest brother. Alan was quick to join him, and the three were all on the kitchen floor in a tangled mess of a pile.

Just like old times indeed.

[xxchaosjojoxx]

A/N: I'd never thought that you guys would be interested in a second part but here it is. Hope you enjoy <3

First part

Lies (2/2)

You felt uneasy after this conversation with your captain, Trafalgar Law and kinda nervous. Did he figure you out, but you were pretty sure you didn’t give anything away. And the trio played their part perfectly like you predicted. You didn’t need to go deeper in your lies, you never did. Having someone to see you do something or going in a specific area is mostly enough for it to be believable. So why? Why now? You were pretty sure that you had your heartbeat and your breath under control. You practiced it long enough since you knew he was a doctor . Thank god you could manage to fool him this time. You bit on your fingers, it was a habit of yours whenever you were under a lot of stress. Should you back down a little? No, it is necessary to do all of this. You just have to fool your captain. This handsome, clever man with his stern look and his beautiful piercing eyes. He was surely smart enough to match your intelligence and this could be the biggest problem at all.

Law was questioning everything you said and did. You were cautious of it but prepared. Even the rest of the crews were confused and wondering what this is all about. Did you have a fight? One evening Law had enough. You were always calm and collected. But still this feeling inside him, made him sick. He decided to go for a cup of coffee as he was listening to Shachi and Penguin. Both of them were talking about getting to know some cute girls when they docked on the next island.

At this moment, an idea popped inside Law’s head and a smirk was forming. If he wants you to catch you off guard, this would be the best option no one, not even you, would predict at all.

Bepo came over and told you that Law was looking for you, so you walked towards his office, knocked and opened the door. He was sitting on his desk, without looking away from his papers he told you to come in and close the door. So you did and sat in a chair in front of his desk.

He was still scribbling and ignored you. “You were looking for me?” You asked him with a sweet voice and a smile on your face. Law lifted his head to look at you and stood up, going around the table to face you. Law was leaning against the desk behind him, his arms folded before his chest as he looked at you and…smiled.

You blinked a couple of times. Never ever did you ever see him smile at all. You didn’t even know that he was able to. “I wanted to apologize to you. I was pretty rude for a couple of days.”

You were unsure what game he played, did he really just want to apologize? Your smile was brighter now as you tilted your head slightly. “That’s lovely. But you don’t have to apologize, captain. I know you didn’t mean any harm.” Two can play the game you know?

Law was holding your hand with his, drawing circles on the back of it. You couldn’t help but blush lightly and staring at his hand on yours. Of course you didn’t notice the smirk on his face nor that he leaned in so his face was closer to yours. His hands were now on both sides of the chair, caging you in it. Your eyes found his and you couldn't help but feel flustered. “To  be honest, I did this on purpose back there.”

You gulped and tried to still smile at him. “Oh yeah?”

He nodded. “I wanted to get closer to you. You are really pretty and I didn’t know why I did it, but now I know.”

Your pupils went wide and you were speechless. //Is this for real? Did he figure me out or not?//

His hand was now caressing your cheek. “Allow me to show you what I mean.” With that his lips were on yours and you couldn’t help but reciprocate the kiss, close your eyes and enjoy the moment. As he pulled away his voice was just a whisper. “I like you.”

With that you were closing the gap again, kissing him with such a passion it made you dizzy. Your arms were behind his neck, deepening the kiss. “I like you too.”

He was squeezing your hand. “That’s good to hear.” And he was on you once more. He couldn’t stop, but neither could you. It was intoxicated.

“Sorry that I accused you of lying.” His lips were on yours again, his tongue twirling around and a soft moan escaped your mouth. “It’s ok.”

“I know you wouldn’t lie to us. YOu never did to begin with right.” He kissed along your neck and jawline. You tried to calm down. “O-Of course not.”

He squeezed your hand again and let go of you immediately.

With half lidded eyes and a shock expression you were looking up to him. He pulled quickly away from you, standing before you and smirked. You were confused and couldn’t think of a single thought. His left hand was still on your hand.

“Oh is that so?” He asked you and squeezed your hand once more. Now it was your time to realize what was going on. That’s why he squeezed your hand. You couldn’t collect yourself to fool him. He was seducing you, to detect your heartbeat.

“We are a crew. We trust each other.” He said calmly and you couldn't help but glaring at him. “Trust? You lied to me and made this a game. You talk about trust here? I had my reasons.”

Law never saw you making another expression. He only knew your smile and your soft eyes. Seeing you like this, greeting your teeth, furious and a deathly look in your eyes he couldn’t help but chuckle. “You piss me off. Let me go and I will leave for good.”

Law gripped your wrist now. “You stay with us. Even though this wasn’t the nicest approach this was the only way to confirm it. We can help you.”

You huffed. “Help? I don’t need your help.”

Law tried to stay calm back there. “Like I said before, I know about your past, I was researching every piece of information I could find about you. You lie to protect yourself, and this is ok.” He kneeled down so you were face to face. “But you are here. We won’t hurt nor betray you. You spend enough time with us, to know that we aren’t like his bastards from before.” You were angry because you knew he was kinda right about it. The HEart pirates were nothing but friendly to you. Welcome you with open arms, especially Penguin and Shachi who you robbed before. They did everything to make you smile, asking about you and your well being. You thought they did to deceive you, but they were doing it for each other. They truly care about everyone on this submarine. You couldn’t help but cry, and stared at Law.

“Even so they are all nice and won’t hurt me, you hurt me back there.”

He sighed, he wanted to caress your cheeks once more, but he knew you would be against it.

“I am truly sorry. But not all of it was an act you know? I care about you and I somehow like you. That was not a lie at all.” He slowly reached for your cheek, brushing his thumbs against his. Your lips were trembling.

“How should I trust you after this?” You leaned into his touch.

“I will try to earn your trust and I will protect you from any harm even so I know you are capable of it.” You could only nod. His eyes were gentle this time and you wanted to trust him. Even so he lied to you, he helped you with it somehow. “I’m tired of pretending.”

“I know.” And this time you could show him a genuine smile and he couldn’t help but blush and turn away. “If you smile for real, it suits you better.”

[hannahbarberra162]

hOrnithology for Beginners

On Ao3

Next chapter

I know I said it was a one shot but I lied. I think it will be 4 chapters.

Marco X Reader, no use of "y/n." Fluffy fun.

Summary: You spend your days waitressing, using all your free time working to become an ornithologist and hunting poachers. You meet and befriend a rare mythical bird, with clear intelligence and astounding beauty. At the same time, an annoying group of pirates are docked at the island. One of them with a stupid haircut keeps trying to charm you, but you hate pirates and especially this one. He’s persistent - can’t he just leave you alone so you can hang out with your new Phoenix friend?

Marco isn’t sure what to do - you love him in his phoenix form, but you hate him in his human form. It's a tough spot for birds and bird watchers alike.

Notes:

I think that it could reasonably be assumed that the mythical Zoans are not the only of their kinds. They are the just only humans who can turn into mythical creatures. Rob Lucci is not the only leopard, Jack isn’t the only mammoth, Yamato isn't the only kitsune, etc. For the purposes of this story, there are more than one of each mythical creature, but only one Devil Fruit user who can turn into one. So reader isn't totally off that it is a phoenix, she just doesn't know it's The Phoenix.

~~~

You tightened your apron ties and scanned the patrons coming in for the lunch rush. Looked like the usual groups - some tourists, some bird watchers, some locals. You didn’t see any obvious waterfoul - your punny code word for pirates. One of the reasons you kept this shitty job was that it gave you a good peek into everyone coming and going on the island. Your island was famous for its stunning bird migrations. It was the southernmost island before the longest landless stretch of sea in the Grand Line. Flocks of birds would often rest at the island in preparation for the long journey to the next set of islands. It was also a wonderful location to try to spot rare and mythical birds. You’d seen a few and captured their essences in your sketchbook. 

Unfortunately, waterfoul weren’t interested in capturing images. They wanted to catch and kill rare birds for easy money. Poaching was a huge problem on the island, one that you frequently fought against. It was your personal crusade to try and stop as many poachers as possible. You’d caught some others - a few Marines, some local boys - but the primary offenders were almost always waterfoul. You carefully watched when crews came to the port, listening for signs that they were going to look for avian treasures. It usually took a week for log poses to set, so you had a good chance of seeing anyone suspicious. You didn’t care to keep track of any specific crew or pirates - they were all the same. Same arrogance, same swaggering attitude, same cocky assurance that they could do anything they wanted to with no repercussions. You hadn’t met any halfway decent pirates, and you didn’t think you ever would. 

Satisfied that you wouldn’t have to worry as much today, you began your shift. It was grinding your soul to shreds being inside and talking to customers when you could be spending it outdoors, watching and drawing birds. But you needed to make money to afford art supplies, new ornithology books, and poison for your dart tips. So inside you stayed, taking orders from idiots who didn’t know if the mashed potatoes were mashed or fried. After a grueling shift, you were finally able to leave. You chucked your apron into the dirty bin and left immediately, turning down your coworkers requests to hang out as a group after the shift ended.

“C’mon, you never hang out with me. Let’s go grab a drink,” Etta said, giving you puppy dog eyes. Etta was your work BFF, and your only real friend on the island. 

“I can’t, I’m going to try to catch -”

“The next bird migration, I know. But there’s always a bird migration on this island, that’s the deal here. You can see one tomorrow, the next day, next month, next year even! But there’s only one 2 berri marg night per week…besides I heard there are some hot new pirates in town.” She waggled her eyebrows at you, while you pretended to barf. 

“You know how I feel about pirates. But I do wanna hang out. How about this? Tomorrow after our shift I’ll buy you a margarita, even if it costs more than 2 berri.” You really did like Etta so you compromised - one night out would be OK, you probably wouldn’t miss much. She stuck her tongue out at you.

“Fine, but you can’t flake out. If you do, I’m leaving you to do side prep all by yourself. Think of all those lemons you’d have to cut.” She rolled her eyes, but it was a plan. You were truly excited - she was the first friend you’d made since you were a child. People often told you that you were “intimidating,” or “prickly,” or “difficult,” which was all just code for “bitchy.” You didn’t care - you wanted to be yourself, not try to dull your edges for people who wouldn’t like you either way. So you were happy to be friends with Etta, who liked you despite your “poor attitude” (as your boss called it). 

You changed out of your work clothes and into your hiking gear, taking your day pack with you. This is what  you liked most - going into the wild to watch for birds, especially legendary ones. You walked down to the forest edge and started on a well trodden path. It didn’t take you long before you had diverged from the path and were going rogue. You’d never see anything really good on the tourist paths - people were too loud and startled the birds away. Besides, you’d been on the island a long time now and you knew the best places to wait and watch. 

You picked your way through the dense forest towards the hidden waterfall. It was your slice of heaven on earth. It was secluded enough that you’d never seen anyone else there. The area surrounding the waterfall was more open than the forest floor, making it easy for camping overnight. The water was always cool and clear, wonderful for swimming on a hot day. The waterfall wasn’t terribly large or loud, bringing a pleasant sound of rushing water. There was an alcove behind the waterfall, large enough for three or so people. Leafy trees lined the banks of the river the waterfall fell into, bringing shade on hot days. It was your happy place, where you retreated both physically and mentally when stressed. Today was no exception.

You reached your destination and put your pack down on a familiar flat rock under the shade of a tree. You took out your pencil, sketchbook, and binoculars and started your stake out. You were already mentally tallying the different bird cries you heard. So far, nothing out of the ordinary, just local birds trilling. You also delighted in the ordinary - you enjoyed seeing the same species day after day, learning more about their habits and manner of living. You were sketching a local starling that was imitating the sounds of transponder snails - pretty well, actually - when all of a sudden, your ears perked up when you heard alarm calls. It wasn’t a call for mobbing - when smaller birds would form a group to ward off a predatory bird. These were definitely alarm calls - short, high pitched, loud cries to warn their flocks that a predator was near. 

You were excited, this was great news for you. Hearing these calls meant that something big was coming your way. It might be a more common predator, but maybe not. You’d seen a lightning Secretary bird once that caused the exact same alarm cries. You’d barely caught sight of it before it was gone. Another time, the cries alerted you to an ice Roc perched in a tree a little farther down the river. You’d carefully stalked the bird and were able to get a few sketches of it done before it flew away. Those were the rarest ones you’d ever seen, and you were hoping for another. 

Straining your ears listening to the bird cries, you grabbed your sketchbook and followed them towards the source. You crept along as quickly as you could deeper in the forest, silently walking on the sides of your feet. The cries weren’t quieting down, meaning the predator was still in the area. Scanning, you inhaled a gasp as you saw the apex predator at hand. Perched on a branch overlooking the river was a phoenix. A blue fire phoenix, with dark blue almost purple accent markings that made it look like it was wearing glasses. You could barely remember to breathe in its presence.

You stood there agog with your mouth open until the bird moved slightly to shift its feathers. You opened your sketchbook and drew quick sketches of it before you missed your chance. You jotted notes of the colors, wanting to remember exactly what it looked like. Seeing the phoenix was like seeing a god in the flesh. It was a blur of blue flames, ending with wisps of yellow. The movment of its body was like watching the waterfall, endless and yet each moment fleeting at the same time. You could scarcely believe that you were able to see one, much less sketch it. You must have been making too much noise because it looked straight at you despite your hiding spot in the brush.

You weren’t worried about it hurting or killing you - that would be an honor. Well, not really, but you typically found predatory birds disinterested in humans. You kept on sketching even though your hands were shaking. The bird cocked its head to the side and continued to watch you. It almost felt…awkward, like you had intruded on a private moment. After a minute or so it seemed to have gathered whatever information it wanted and flew away. Even watching it leave was magnificent, tail feathers like a chain of golden coins dancing in the wind. When it finally left your sight, you exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. That was almost orgasmic for you. You rushed to pack up your things so you could go home and sketch with detail and notations before you forgot anything.

On your way back, the only thing on your mind was the phoenix. You thought about its elegance, its restrained power, its understated intelligence. It was the most striking bird you’d ever seen out of the thousands you’d cataloged. You thought more about its coloring, trying to think of the exact shades of blue and yellow you’d use to describe it. But now that you thought about it, seeing a blue fire phoenix was peculiar. Everything you’d heard about phoenixes depicted them as yellow bodied with red accents. But not much was known about any legendary bird so perhaps this one was rarer or maybe hadn’t been discovered yet. It had some kind of marking on its chest - but unfortunately where you were standing obscured your ability to see the marks directly. The glasses markings were a little funny - almost like a spectacled owl. It did give the phoenix a distinctive and distinguished look, like a scholar or a doctor. You were practically skipping with delight towards your home, thinking of all the little details you wanted to remember.

~~~

The next day, you went to work with a smile on your face. Not even the sight of waterfoul in your section could dull your mood today. You’d spent hours sketching and coloring drawings of the phoenix you’d seen, writing every possible memory you had down to preserve it forever. Etta wasn’t in yet - she was starting a shift staggered an hour after yours- but you’d have to tell her about it when you saw her again. Smiling, you walked to the table of waterfoul getting your pad out to take their order. As you got to the table, your smile dropped and your bitch face turned on. You set it to extra sour just for your own fun. 

You looked at the assembled men - you saw two stupid hairstyles, two stupid hats, and one well...there was nothing stupid looking about the last man. He was absolutely gorgeous with black glossy hair set in a classic style and incredible geisha style makeup. Whatever, even if he was good looking he was still a pirate. The man with the stupidest hairstyle smiled warmly at you, like he knew you. You dropped your neutral face into a frown.

“What do you want?” you said in a flat tone.

“Aren’t you supposed to greet customers with a friendly welcome?” said stupid hairstyle two with a smirk. You wanted to dump a cup of water on his pompadour. Or maybe soup.

“Of course! Whatever would you like today, my fair patrons?” you replied in an overly sweet and simpering voice. You even curtsied at the end to hammer the point home. The point being - fuck off. As soon as the words left your lips, you went back to frowning. Pineapple Hair looked at you curiously.

Cowboy hat laughed and said “I’ll start with three steaks, rare. And a beer.” Pineapple Hair, Pompadour, Twirly Mustache and Glamor Man also placed their orders. When they were done, you turned on your heel and went to put in their orders. You attended your other tables and customers, servicing them all while thinking about your phoenix. 

After a while, you saw Etta enter through the staff door. Before she could get to the floor you quickly pulled her to the kitchen. You both spoke excitedly at the same time.

“Guess what - “

“Guess what - “

“You go first,” Etta said, listening intently.

“I saw a legendary bird last night! It was everything I could have ever dreamed of! It was absolutely incredible…I can’t wait to show you the sketches.” Etta was one of the only people you showed your drawings to. You loved the art of drawing but felt self conscious about your ability.

“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you,” Etta’s eyes lit up. She always liked when you shared your ornithology information with her and dutifully listened to some of your ramblings..

“What’s your news?” Maybe 2 berri margs were available again tonight?

“So I went out to the bar last night and met someone for a little fun. They’re in town until their log pose resets. I was talking to them for a while and mentioned that you are a real bird expert, not like the shitty tour guides who don’t know anything.” You narrowed your eyes. This wasn’t heading in a direction you liked.

“He’s actually interested in beetles, not birds. But I said that beetles are an important part of several bird’s diets,” she said, hedging around something.

“That’s true, you’ve been listening to my rants,” you said, still on guard. There was something she wasn’t saying and you had a feeling you weren’t going to like it. 

“So I might have volunteered you to come on a double date with him and his friend birdwatching and looking for beetles,” she said in a rush while starting to steeple her hands in a begging motion.

“What aren’t you telling me? There’s more to it than that.” you asked suspiciously. 

“Uhm. Well, the thing is. They’re pirates -”

“Etta! Oh my god. I knew it was something -”

“No, no listen! Listen. They seem actually nice and reasonable. The one I met yesterday, Ace, was so sweet and hot! I really like him.”

“Ohmyfuckinggod. Pirates? Etta they’ll probably kill us and take our stuff if we go to the woods with them. Or worse.”

“No! They’re like, high ranking pirates, so you know they have to be good.”

“That is not at all what that means.” You crossed your arms, and waved at the little window in the kitchen door that looked into the dining room.

“Look, there’s shitty pirates out there right now. They’ve already annoyed me and it’s only been like half an hour. Think about what a few hours would do to me.” Etta looked out the window. 

“Oh, actually he’s right there! Isn’t he hot?” Etta ducked down so he couldn’t see her.

“Who? Which one?” You really hoped it was Glamor Man, but he didn’t seem outdoorsy. You looked at the table where Cowboy Hat was asleep face down in his food. Could you drown in peas? 

“The one wearing the cowboy hat, that’s Ace. Isn’t he just so fine?” Of course that was the one she liked. He was something alright. Etta was practically drooling. Ace was too. 

“Etta, as my only friend, I have to tell you-”

“Please please please please please please -”

“I really don’t think this is a good idea and I really don’t want to go on a double date with -”

“Please please please please please - I’ll take your shift tomorrow so you have two days off in a row! It’s the weekend too! Just come out with me tomorrow with these guys, please!”

You sighed. You didn’t want Etta to get herself killed, and two days off was very appealing during busy season. You could go camping overnight and see if the phoenix ever returned. 

“Fine. But we’re going on the popular trails and I will absolutely not be kissing any pirate. And you have to roll my silverware tonight.” You barely even cared who you were set up with so you didn't bother to ask. You'd find out tomorrow anyway.

“Thank you thank you thank you!!” Etta squealed and hugged you tightly. You gave a small smile, knowing you’d made your friend happy. And looking for beetles did actually sound like fun. Who knew pirates liked bugs?

[skellymom]

"Bring Me To My Knees" PART 2

Crosshair/Hunter x Reader Non Gendered SMUT++

Dividers by the talented: @saradika and @4ngelic-wh1spers

Background: Reader and Crosshair are separated from the group during the rescue of Omega and Tech from Mt Tantiss. Two broken people trying to get by in the galaxy. Then two broken people finally dealing with what happened to their group.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warning: Star Wars Canon violence, angst, death of major character, sadness, crying, guilt, permanent injury, stuff blowing up, swearing, kissing, intercourse, heavy petting, bite kind, blood kink, pain kink, spank kink, smutty/lemony content, lovers triangle with Hunter and Crosshair.

FOR CLARITY, HUNTER FLASHBACK SMUT SCENE IN CHAPTER 1. THE CROSSHAIR SMUT SCENE IS IN THIS CHAPTER 2. Broke this up in 2 chapters because I just couldn't stop writing...and 4K might be too much for one sitting.

I purposely wrote the reader in this fic to be of no specific gender. Tried to carefully craft the sexual scenes to accommodate either gender/non gendered/trans/genderfluid/non-binary. Everyone has hills, valleys, sexual organs, nipples, and erogenous zones. I wrote them into the story, but it's up to you dear reader to put your imagination to work. Hope I have done a good enough job that you can enjoy yourself with Hunter and Crosshair without breaking immersion!

To read Chapter 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/744267915687264256/bring-me-to-my-knees-part-1?source=share

The intel proved to be correct. You and Crosshair traveled to an uncharted planet well past the Outer Rim. A quiet unassuming place to start planning a burgeoning Rebellion. 

He piloted. As your ship entered planetary airspace several Rebel ships swooped in as escorts. The Rebel base radioed in to confirm your status. 

“Crosshair, Clone Force 99 and Y/N, civilian. We are Rebel sympathizers wanting to join the Rebel cause and find our lost family and squad members.” You replied. 

“Authenticating data. Hold your position.” 

Silence as you and Crosshair waited on bated breath. 

“You are clear to land. We will perform a customary inspection of your transport. Then check your gunnery and weapons at the docking station armory.” 

“They’ll be taking my rifle OVER my DEAD body.” Crosshair snarked. 

“Toothpick?” 

“Hhm?” 

“It’s your gun, NOT your dick. Let them do their job.” 

He sighed and shook his head. 

Word must have spread fast. No sooner did you land than Omega was out the bay door jumping up and down in excitement. 

Crosshair barely got the gangplank down on the ship. You jumped over the stairs and landed on your hands and knees. Sprung up and ran to her. 

Omega knocked you over with her embrace. You were both laying there crying. She had grown two heads taller and much stronger too. 

Rebel soldiers had come out to check the validity of your claims. They stood aside seeing at least one of their residents recognize you. They had witnessed MANY reunions just like this as people were finding their way to the planet.  

There was more: Wrecker wasn’t far behind. He scooped you both up and hugged you fiercely. 

“AWWW...SO GLAD YOU’RE HERE! MISSED YA HORRIBLY!!!” Wiping away tears. 

Echo approached with Phee. 

Wrecker let you go, and you embraced them both with each arm. 

“Phee...what happened???” Her beautiful hair was gone. Head covered and tied fashionably with a scarf. Burn scar down one side of her face. You noticed one hand had scars as well. 

She shot Echo a strange look, then shrugged and perked up. “It’s growing back. Getting bacta therapy for the scars.” 

“Tech? Hunter? Are they here?” 

Echo answered “Come inside. We’ll get you settled.” 

“Wait, I didn’t come alone.” 

You turned towards your ship. Crosshair was standing at the bottom of the stairs. 

Omega gave him a bear hug. He had allowed her that. Wrecker stood a few feet away watching them.  

Echo took your hand. “Let’s give them some time to catch up.” 

He and Phee led you inside the base past bustling personnel.  

“Wait...I didn’t check my blaster...” 

“That’s ok” Phee patted your shoulder. “We vouched for you. Crosshair though...” 

You approached an open medical station with bacta tanks lined up...recognizing... 

“TECH!” 

He bobbed merrily in the solution, waving at your arrival. 

You stopped to see he was missing both legs...just like Echo. There were scars all over his body, some weren’t present during his rescue. Tech saw your face and immediately started signing in Basic. 

It is no major loss. I will be fine. Only 20 more rotations within this tank, then I shall be fitted for my prosthetics...please...don’t cry. 

Things were starting to come together...Phee’s hair loss and burns...the Marauder being hit... 

“WHERE’S HUNTER???” You yelled it in a panic. 

Echo stepped in and took your hand. “Y/N... he...” The look on his face told you this wouldn’t be good news. Echo’s eyes registered the scarf draped around your neck. 

There was a commotion behind you at the entrance of the base. Crosshair’s voice. Arguing with two Rebel troopers over his lack of compliance regarding check-in. 

“Sir! We need you to...” 

“NOT NOW! Can’t you see MY PARTNER is in distress!!!” 

The trooper grabbed his arm. Crosshair immediately disarmed the man and put his ass on the floor. Then handed the troopers gun to HIS partner sneering, “I said FUCK OFF!” 

The second trooper took the gun and commed for backup. 

Crosshair stalked over gently putting his hands on your shoulders. Fixing Echo with his baleful stare. “Where’s Hunter?” 

Echo fixed you both with his amber eyes. He sighed; his expression was so sad. “I’ll take you to him.” 

Tech tapped on the tank to get Crosshair’s attention. Cross glanced over shocked. He hadn’t recognized who was in there. Then he noticed Tech’s condition. 

I’ll be ok brother. He signed.  

Tech put his hand up against the glass. Crosshair placed his on the other side against Tech’s. 

The trooper’s backup arrived and trained their blasters on Crosshair. He turned and eyed them menacingly. Then dropped his hands from your shoulders, one of which you grabbed. 

“Don’t start any shit, Toothpick. Please, this isn’t the time.” Squeezing his hand firmly. 

He squeezed your hand back and stood down. 

“Break it up Trooper. These are friendlies.” Captain Rex emerged from the back of the squad. 

“But sir, he assaulted one of our Rebel staff. And he refused to check his rifle.” Pointing to Stormpuncher mounted on Crosshair’s back. 

“I’ll handle it, Trooper. You are all dismissed.” 

The Rebel squad eyed Crosshair uneasily as they filed away from the scene. 

“Good to see you both alive and well.” Rex smiled genuinely. “But I’ll let Echo catch you up on everything.” He nodded to Echo and stepped away. 

At this point Wrecker and Omega joined the group. 

“Follow me.” Echo instructed. 

You glanced at Tech as the group started to walk away. He smiled wistfully.  

“I got them Brown Eyes.” She winked at Tech, and he winked back. But he still looked concerned. 

Phee put her arm around your shoulder and walked with you. Crosshair followed at your other side silently. 

The group filed through the whole facility: past logistics, maintenance, troop training, mess, quarters, a small prison area (mostly empty), daycare, pet kennel, a few non-descript departments, and finally to the back end of the facility. The group approached heavy double doors. 

There was a sense of dread in your chest. Everyone was quiet. Echo looked heartbroken as he swiped his key card over the lock mechanism.  

The doors opened to the outside. A HUGE garden stretching for over a mile...planted with the bodies of those fallen from the Empire. Headstones, holoshrines, helmets, and all manner of tributes marked each plot. Adults, children, military, civilians, even service animals. Droids who could not be repaired were erected as tribute statuary with holoplaques proclaiming their sacrifice. 

Hunter was there. Laid to rest several rows down from the entrance. 

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. 

“This isn’t real...” Shaking your head but staring straight ahead at Hunter’s helmet propped up on his plot. “NO... can’t.” Tears running down your face. 

Phee rubbed your back. “I’m SO sorry.” She was crying too. “Broody saved my life. I almost burned to death.” She pulled off the scarf to reveal the severity of her injuries. “I’m the reason he’s here.” 

Wrecker piped up “Noo, that’s not true. He would’ve done it for anyone on that ship.” He hugged Phee. 

Survivor’s guilt. Your heart went out to her.    

Crosshair took your hand and silently encouraged you to step down into the memorial and go to Hunter’s plot. You inhaled and stepped down...then your legs gave out. Crosshair grabbed your right shoulder. Echo ran over and supported your left. 

They led you to the plot. Wrecker, Phee, and Omega stayed behind. 

Soft grass was planted for whomever wished to sit and visit. Hunter’s helmet was surrounded by vivid red Poppies in full bloom. Echo seated you upon the grass. Crosshair kneeling beside you.  

“Can I do anything at all for you both.” He inquired. 

Silence. 

“Uh...I’ll give you some privacy.” 

“Echo?” 

“Yeah?” 

You swept him up in a hug again. “Thank you...for everything.” Tears returning. 

“Oh, of course.” He embraced you back. Holding on for some time. 

Echo patted your back and cleared his throat. He let go and wiped a tear from his face. 

Then he was gone.   

Crosshair sat stone faced staring at Hunter’s helmet bereft of emotion. It was the best he could do at this moment. 

You took off the red scarf, slipped it over Hunter’s helmet, and arranged it as if draped off Hunter’s own shoulders. 

Like he was sitting right in front of you with his bucket on... 

A sudden loud sob escaped. Each exhalation became louder until it ended in a scream. Your face red and pressed into the warm grass. Watering Hunter’s grave with your tears. Freeing the emotion out of the pit of your being. Screaming, sobbing until empty, finally collapsing from exhaustion. 

The afternoon progressed and the sun started to dip down towards the horizon. 

“Hey” Crosshair nudged you from disassociation. “Let’s go.” 

Numb, you let him haul you up under the shoulders. Standing, your vision went snowy and black.   

Crosshair must have carried you to the ship. The next few days were a blur, you slept through most of it. He hovered, fixing ration soup and just about threatening to force feed you. Trading whatever he could for black market sweets just to get ANYTHING into your belly. You barely remember Echo, Wrecker, Omega, or Phee visiting. Or AZI monitoring your vitals, reporting them well within range, that it was “only” grief and would eventually pass. 

Finally, after days in your bunk Crosshair had enough. 

“Soup!” He poked you awake. 

“Whaa?” Weakly turning over, burrowing under the blanket. 

“Get up. You STINK!” 

“Fuck off Crossy...” 

“Get up, or I’m throwing you INTO the refresher. Clothes and all.” 

You ignored him. 

Crosshair reached under the blanket and yanked you up. You caterwauled hurling swears, too weak to fight. But you were strong enough to hold on. 

He opened the refresher door and attempted to set you down. You stuck to him like shit on a Bantha’s behind. It turned into a wrestling match, both of you swearing at one another. One hand pried off him, then another would latch on, finally tearing his shirt to shreds. 

Cross gave up and flipped on the water soaking you both. The cold spray only made you hold on tighter, pressing against his chest for warmth. He gave up, sighed, adjusted the temp to warm. 

“Will you wash my hair?” 

Sighing again. “Yes.” 

You let go and turned your back to him. Crosshair lathered up his hands. 

“Wait.” You pulled the soaked T-shirt over your head and threw it in the corner of the shower. Now you're only clad in underwear. “Ok.” 

He applied the shampoo and did one helluva job massaging it into your hair. You smiled and groaned at the sensation. He finished by twisting the hair into a soapy point atop your head. 

“Will you wash my back and neck?” 

Heavy sigh. But he did. His hands were amazing. 

“Toothpick, will...” 

“I’m NOT washing your dirty ass...or anything else. You can reach.” Cross rinsed his hands and exited the refresher, leaving you to finish the job. 

You finally exited the shower feeling and smelling much better. 

Clean towels and comfy clothing were waiting for you. A non-descript box sat atop them.  

Dried, dressed, brushed your hair and nasty teeth. Then opened the box. The beautiful black and silver scarf from Mel and Marv’s stand. Toothpick paid attention...and had held on to it the whole time. 

You put it on and made your way back through the darkened ship. 

Crosshair was waiting, sitting on a blanket spread out on the floor. There was a multitude of fresh food and rations upon it. Also, a lit candle in the middle. The kind he would razz you about that “smelled like flowers and shit.” 

You smiled. “Is this a date?” Attempting some levity. 

“Sit your ass down and eat.” 

“Thank you.” Caressing the scarf around your neck. 

“For what?” He played dumb. You could see he noticed. 

“Everything. Being there for...” You couldn’t bear to speak it. “Taking care of me, this food...” 

“Can’t have you dying on me. Would have smelled worse than you already did.” 

“Oh...and that shower brawl...” looking up from your food. “THAT was certainly SOMETHING.” 

Crosshair grinned. “You owe me a new shirt.” 

“Do I, now? Well, don’t wear clothes in the refresher when you decide to throw me in.” 

He cocked an eyebrow while biting into a ration bar. 

“Then when I grab something, it’ll be foreplay.” 

Crosshair choked on his food. 

You stuffed yourself full. Satisfied, thanking Crosshair again (who rolled his eyes), and wandered back to your bunk. 

He had changed the bedding out while you were in the refresher. It was clean and the blanket turned over, inviting you to slide in. 

It felt wonderful burrowing into the clean sheets. 

But sleep was elusive tonight. 

The grief was still too much for you both. 

Two people alone on a dark, silent ship. The distance between you palpable. 

“Are...you awake?” he furtively asked with hushed tones in the dark. 

“Umhmm.” Intrigued as to why he asked. Sitting up and sliding your legs off to the side of the bunk. 

Silence. 

You sat there in the dark waiting for an answer. 

More silence... 

(You like a song to go with the following scene? Please check it out. Smutty, but emotional)

...then Crosshairs hand gently smoothing away the hair from your temple. 

You immediately embraced him tightly. 

He falters for just a beat.  Body frozen for what seems like an eternity.  Would this scare him away? 

Then you feel his arms encircle you, lips upon your cheek...kissing down to your lips. 

Unable to hold back any further, you turn your head to meet his lips to yours. 

Mouths opening to breathe into the well of one another.  Sliding upon each other passionately.  Breaths furiously taken in between long heated kisses. 

Then parting quickly to pull the clothing from each other's body.  Almost ripping the cloth away from bare skin.  Occasional moans of longing for skin-to-skin contact. 

Finally free of constraints, he stops to visually take you in... 

...he’s waited SO LONG for this moment. Couldn’t help admiring your strength while rescuing him on Tantiss...but finding out you bonded romantically to Hunter... 

“I... I’m afraid...” Terror and shame on his face. 

This shocks you to hear such words fall from his lips. He’s so VULNERABLE...kneeling next to you proclaiming his feelings. 

You reach out and stroke the side of his face, then firmly grip this chin. “So am I. But it’s just the two of us now.” 

You both stare into the lonely abyss of each other's eyes. 

“And I CAN’T STAND being alone.” 

“Then you WON’T be...EVER” He reaches out across the space between, pulling you to his body. His heat, his need. 

You have your own need, your heat blazes HOT with his deep kisses. Tongues intertwining.  

Then he pulls away to bury his face next to your ear whispering EVERY DIRTY THING he’s going to do to you while nuzzling and nipping your ear. Rubbing his hard cock along your shin, sliding along the wetness it leaves behind. 

You moan loudly...” Oh...fuck me...” 

“Mhmm...” trailing his tongue down your neck. His hands caressing the inside of your thighs. Stopping just short of your sex. Teasing his fingers around it...teasing you into fever pitch. 

Your hand on his shoulder digs your nails into his flesh. He moans in ecstasy from the pain. Trailing down your chest to nip and lick at your nipples. Crosshair stares up adoringly with half hooded eyes. 

His hand casually brushes your sex and trails away. 

Smiling while he teases. 

You grip the edge of the bunk, bracing your feet on the floor, and buck out your hips in the air, gasping, baring your teeth. 

Then he playfully but firmly slaps your sex. 

It pisses you off while turning you on at the same time. The tension building. 

His cock is SO slippery against your leg. The breath coming from him labored and shaky. Tracing your thighs just so closely to where you want to be stimulated, then away again. 

“FUCK ME!” You growl deeply through your teeth.  Something FERAL awakening in you. Shaking, sweating, digging harder into his shoulder. It starts to bleed, and his eyes roll back in his head.  

His facial expression turns intense. He slaps your sex again. You moan louder, then growl again. 

The teasing. It’s driving you INSANE. 

He knows you’re about to lose it... 

Crosshair stops kissing your chest, put’s his snarky, sexy, come-fuck-me-face up to your ear...  

“...Mmm...bite me...” 

Back somewhere in your sexually addled lizard brain registers this could be literal instead of figurative. 

And he slaps you...ONE MORE TIME... 

Without thinking you sink your teeth into his other shoulder. Blood seeping into your mouth. 

Crosshair screams out in fevered sexual ecstasy...frotting his weeping cock furiously against your leg. 

His slapping hand comes back fully on your sex, furiously stimulating... 

...kneading... 

...filling up your intimate spaces... 

...sliding.... 

...you buck your hips tightly against the hand that services you... 

...as the pressure of your molars squeeze the flesh of his shoulder...it’s heavenly pressure...the taste of copper as you suck it down... 

Crosshair’s fevered thrusts of his hips. 

The fevered ministrations of his hand. 

Ragged breaths mixed with groans...whimpers... 

You release your mouth from his shoulder, as you gasp for air... blood trailing down his back from the punctures. Small crimson rivulets running down your chin, neck, across your erect nipples...you fall back...Pressing your head into the bunk...eyes widening...mouth open. His left hand on the small of your back like a spotter, his right sending you over the edge... 

Clenching your abdomen...you feel that tickle...the beginning of... 

Crosshair stops and pulls his hand away. You grab his arm devastated, angry even to be thwarted from your orgasm. 

Breathlessly “I want to FEEL you...from the INSIDE.” It’s not presented as a question. But he’s waiting for your consent. 

You reach down, stroke his sopping wet member. He moans and shudders. Then brush a ghost of a kiss across Crosshair’s forehead as you scoot fully onto the bunk and open yourself up to him. Your seductive gaze is inviting. 

Up off his knees, he slinks over you on the bunk. Staring like a hungry animal.  

For a fleeting moment, you don’t see Crosshair there...just Hunter. Your desire threatens to topple over into grief...all these emotions bubbling up from the surface. That scar will NEVER be totally healed. The sadness that will NEVER totally leave. 

Crosshair watches the subtle changes of your expression and senses this. He understands. While there are differences, it’s his loss too. 

He covers his body with yours, basking in the warmth skin to skin. Then takes your face in his hands. Touching foreheads, he whispers promises for you both in the future. All the things you will do together and the burdens you will both share and support each other through. Every one of them ends with a kiss as a promise.  

“I’m not Hunter...but...I’ll work on being a better man than I was in my past.”  

“I don’t want you to live in Hunter’s shadow. You’re different. Our relationship will be different.” 

Silence. 

“I’m SO SORRY you lost your brother.” 

Crosshair covers his face with his hand. Silent tears spill out between his fingers. 

You say no more and hold him tightly. Knowing it was A LOT for him to even let go like this. Knowing the relationship, he had with especially Hunter was fraught with so much emotional angst. And the heavy burden Crosshair holds about the horrible things he did at the end. 

You both lay there for some time wrapped up together in each other's arms...just being. Crosshair’s head resting on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. You rubbing gentle circles though his hair. 

Finally, he speaks, “Would you like me to finish?” Looking up at you seriously with those intense dark eyes. 

You read him like a book. He knows you too well now. There’s a deep care for one another. But you both know the sex tonight will be for dealing with the grief. That's ok though. It’s an unspoken agreement of how this will help the two of you bond and heal.  

You’ll both drink, fight, fuck, laugh, and all manner of things together while dealing with this shared grief. Whatever gets you by. It’ll bind you both thick as thieves. 

“Yes.” 

He kisses down your body to your sex. Licking, sucking, lavishing you with an intensity that prevents you from lying still. All the while grinding his returned erection into the sheets, soaking them. 

You both begin to get vocal. He adds more stimulation with his fingers, driving you wild. Grasping the bedding, you arch your back again. With the pressure in your core, his tongue wetly sliding over your sex...your breathing reaches a fever pitch...the tingling returns... 

“Crosshair...” 

He stops, sits up, gently pulls your hips to position, and slides his length into you. 

“Fuuuck...” he groans loudly, slowly pulling out, then slowly sliding in...he wants to feel it ALL. No rush. Just the amazing sensation...every inch...of him...against you... 

...sliding out... 

...sliding in... 

His legs are shaking. 

Your breath not just respirations but moans to the timing of his thrusts. 

...sliding out... 

...sliding in... 

Crosshair’s eyes are hooded in desire. He can see you’re about to cum. A crooked, horny smile crosses his face. 

The tingle becomes a wave... 

IT RUSHES THROUGH YOU like beautiful warm surf racing towards your sex... 

...and reaches its destination... 

You arch your back deeper...He’s watching you at the apex of your orgasm. Time seems to slow down for a few seconds. Eyes open with no angst, anger, judgement, spite, sass...his eyes...the window to a man WIDE OPEN at this moment in time. He’s telling you with his eyes what his voice could not.  

You’re staring above right into those eyes as your head presses just a centimeter deeper into the bedding...you inhale DEEPLY as those warm tendrils explode deep at the base of your core.  

Orgiastic moan-scream comes from your mouth so intensely you feel it in the roof of your mouth. Vision fuzzing out slightly. Tiny warm explosions of nerves firing everywhere in your body.  

Crosshair squeezes you tightly, screaming gutturally, eyes shut tight, and shuddering inside you with his own climax. Both of your sensory stimuli shut out to the outside world: Only aware of you both connected at the junction of your bodies.  

And then the orgasm dissipates like a wave being pulled back out to sea. Seafoam settling in and tickling the shoals of your sex.  

You feel warm and tingly...the rush of all those endorphins. He collapses gently on top of you. Gathering each other up in embrace. 

laying in each other’s arms realizing the future is wide open. It's a bit daunting...scary even. But you have each other. And, for now, that will do. 

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

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[now-you-sound-like-a-jedi]

Satine and the Resol’nare

Okay, I will warn you in advance: this is an entire essay complete with introduction and conclusion, feel free to scroll on if you can’t be bothered listening to me ramble :)

So, one of the criticisms of Satine and the New Mandalorians that I see quite a lot is "but what about the Resol'nare?" This is a difficult question to answer because much of Mandalorian culture, including the Resol’nare, is found in the Legends Extended Universe, and was discarded along with the rest of that canon after Lucasfilm’s complete overhaul of the Star Wars canon, so much of it is not relevant to a discussion of Satine because she exists in a separate version of the universe. But let’s put that aside for the purposes of this debate

In the Legends EU, the central tenets of Mandalorian culture could be found in the Resol’nare. According to this, the core of what it meant to be a Mandalorian is to wear armour, speak Mando’a, defend oneself and one’s family, educate one’s children as Mandalorians, be loyal to and support one’s family, and to obey the Mand’alor. So let’s break this down piece by piece in regards to Satine.

First of all, she obviously does not wear armour. However this does not necessarily mean that she has disregarded this element of Mandalorian culture altogether. Beskar’ta emblems can be found throughout Sundari, from Satine’s own throne room to the tunnel leading from the docks into the city. Furthermore, beskar’ta emblems are prominent designs on the clothing of several Mandalorian characters: the shirts worn by Almec, Korkie, and others feature them in the same position on the chest as they would be on a breastplate, Ahsoka’s dress in the Siege of Mandalore is patterned with them; and Satine’s own dress in the Clone Wars episode ‘Corruption’ appears to have a beskar’ta-like pattern sewn into the very fabric. Essentially, the most recognisable feature of Mandalorian armour is everywhere in her city even if the armour itself is absent, indicating that, far from being erased, the heritage of their armour is fundamental to Satine’s Mandalore. While we’re on this point, there is an assumption that Satine banned the wearing of armour on Mandalore, but there is nothing explicit in canon to confirm or deny that accusation - it simply never comes up. It is possible to argue that she did, because no one on Mandalore wears it, but it is equally plausible that no one wears armour on Mandalore simply because they no longer need to.

So, we have established that, while Satine does not exactly follow the first of the Resol’nare, she cannot be said to have wholeheartedly disregarded it either. But what about the others? Let's move onto speaking Mando’a. Satine is the only named character in the Clone Wars to speak any dialect of Mando’a onscreen (specifically Concordian), something that none of her opponents ever does, and Mando’a script can be seen across several episodes on screens in Sundari. This demonstrates that Satine's Mandalore continues to utilise Mando’a in day-to-day life.

In the Clone Wars episode ‘Voyage of Temptation’, she asserts that ‘just because [she’s] a pacifist doesn’t mean [she] won’t defend [herself]’, which covers the third tenet of 'defending oneself and one's family'. Satine has no children, so we have no information with which to assess the fourth on a personal level, and we also don't have enough information about the New Mandalorian school curriculum to examine this on a city-wide level either. In terms of loyalty to one’s family, the only example we have is of her and Korkie, most notably when she was willing to concede to Almec’s demands rather than allow her nephew to be tortured.

Finally, we come to obeying the Mand’alor: there is no indication that there was a Mand’alor during Satine’s rule, as “Mand’alor” by definition means “sole ruler of Mandalore”, a position Pre Vizsla did not achieve (despite his possession of the Darksaber) until 19 BBY, and which he subsequently lost to Maul.

What we see here is that Satine follows three of the Resol'nare, doesn't follow one, and we simply don't have enough evidence for the other two. From this, we can deduce that Satine isn't actually as far from being a textbook “good Mandalorian” as she is often portrayed. The no-armour thing appears to be the exception rather than the rule.

Furthermore, based on canon evidence, we cannot confirm that any other Mandalorian adheres to the Resol'nare any more than the New Mandalorians do. We don't see anyone in Death Watch speak Mando'a, not even Pre Vizsla, nor any character in the Mandalorian (except the Armorer). Which of course is not to say that they don't, only that we cant confirm it either way. Sabine Wren does, and she wears armour, but she certainly doesn't seem in any rush to rally to the Mand'alor and struggles a lot with how far loyalty to her family should actually go. Bo-Katan doesn't speak Mando'a either, she refuses to obey the Mand’alor when Maul takes the title, and she sure seems to pick and choose when to follow the "loyalty to one's family" part.

Essentially, when it comes to the Resol’nare, Satine is no less a Mandalorian than any of her opponents are.

[valeovalairs]

A Riptide AU that I came up with

Some pretty big spoilers for Riptide Episode #109, please don’t read further you have been warned.

Okay, I know episode 109 JUST came out, and Niklaus is probably going to fix Chibo, -with a price and conditions blah blah blah most likely but like, hopefully he’ll be fine and get his heart back… hopefully, maybe, I hope he’ll be okay- but I had an idea. 

Or more like I came up with an entire AU in my head halfway through the episode as it really started to sink in that Chip is now undead (at least he’s not dead dead yk, thought he was for like two seconds). (Mind you I thought of this while things were really starting to seem hopeless and before Niklaus became a possibility.)

Okay first of all, Chip has a bandana that could change his appearance right? I’m pretty sure he still has that right? That’s going to be important later.

May I present to you: The Legend of the Immortal Riptide Pirate.

So say Chip never gets fixed. They’re able to successfully leave (idk how but they do) and eventually they escape the Black Sea (maybe they’ve fixed it, that would be great and ideal), but Chip is still undead, and for all they know they can’t heal him, he’s stuck like that forever. He begins to constantly use the disguise bandana to just look like himself. Alive. (So no one besides the crew knows he’s undead)

The Riptide Pirates keep going, but time passes. Everyone gets older, years go by, and Chip is still the same. He never will change. He’s 19 and he will always look 19. They live their lives. But eventually Chip is the last one (this gets a little sad I’M SORRY). He doesn’t take on another crew, and the Riptide Pirates become something of a legend. 

People begin to whisper about the Riptide Pirates, or Pirate. How he mans the ship alone, and some might even say he’s immortal, as people from decades ago remember hearing of him. And seeing him. He’s seen occasionally, docking the Albatross, and doing something piratey. Usually he helps people. (I just thought of this I don’t have specific details), usually he messes with the Navy and Raft (because they don’t die either apparently, so he’s made it his mission to screw them over as much as possible)

At this point where the AU really would kick off it’s been decades maybe even a whole century or more since the events of Riptide. There’s a Ferin descendant, and she’s heard stories of her ancestor Jay Ferin, who was apart of the original Riptide Pirates crew, back when there was a crew, and how she sailed with the Legendary Riptide Pirate. She’s her hero. Her family is trying to rope her into Raft, to send her off like to Navy school or whatever. She wants none of that but they aren’t really giving her a choice. So she’s there, probably in All-Port, and she’s trying to come up with a way to get out. She knows her ancestor used to be a Riptide Pirate, and she knows THE Riptide Pirate is still drifting around. So she has an idea. She wants to be a Riptide Pirate. She begins to plan her escape.

Meanwhile, the Undersea had a new Chosen One. She’s meant to do what the previous Champion didn’t do. She’s completely just for ceremonial purposes, and she isn’t actually THE chosen one, there was only one, but the Undersea pretends to have another one because they don’t know what else to do- the Elders keep this fact secret. She hates it, but she’s known nothing else. The Undersea decides to show her off, diplomatic stuff (what exactly, I’m not entirely sure atm). She’s in All-Port and above on land for the first time ever. It’s incredible. And for the first time ever, she sees a way out. 

The day the Champion is in All-Port coincides with the day the Ferin decides to make her break for it, there’s supposed to be a lot of commotion with the Chosen One and Undersea Elders which should help them get away and give them some time. The Ferin gets out and begins to weave her way through the city, heading for the docks. The Champion had got out too, but she hadn’t really thought that far ahead and doesn’t know where to go or what to do. She’s just wandering around late at night by herself, clearly lost and a little scared- because she can’t get caught she doesn’t want to go back. The Champion runs into the Ferin who instantly recognizes them as the Chosen One and is confused and panics a little because what is the chosen one doing here? The chosen one is supposed to be on the other side of the city and being the chosen one and distracting everyone not here. They both realize they’re trying to leave, and after a quick conversation the two of them run off together, because the Riptide Pirate had known the first Chosen One, they had been friends and co-captains. He could help her, help them both get away. He would understand. So they leave.

The Ferin has a small ship that she’d be able to handle herself, or maybe she steals it idk. They go off together. Eventually they dock at one port (I’m thinking Zero- they know from asking around that he frequents Zero) and then they wait. And once they know he’s there and docked, they sneak onto his ship.

Chip is very surprised to find the Champion of the Undersea and a Ferin together on the Albatross once again.

(That’s as far as i thought but I think it’s pretty cool- I may or may not work on this some more)

[dixenjackal]

Are your feral au Grim and Gnarly based off any specific breeds? I'm looking at them and thinking "oh thats a Kurilian Bobtail and an Oriental Shorthair!" But I can't tell for sure. It makes a lot of sense to me (especially the Kurilian Bobtail, since they're a natural cat breed found in the wild who would be pretty dependent on their claws for hunting purposes), but I also didn't want to just jump to conclusions about your designs!

Which are absolutely adorable, btw. I would offer them catnip if I could.

They sort of are!! Gnarly is for sure based on an Oriental Shorthair and I often use those cats as references for him. As for Grim, he didnt really have any specific breed, just the average fat house cat with a docked tail. Buttttttttt, I googled what you thought he was based off of and that definitely fits a lot better!

Also take this doodle of them as kittens for no reason at all

[skele-bunny]

Memories. (CW) Phantom/Dew

CW: Talk of past slavery and abuse

Characters: Phantom, Dewdrop/Sodo

I wanted to do more with this, but brain dead tbh. Also trying out new formatting! Might not keep it but eh.

Read it under the cut or on AO3!

Dew turned his head as he stepped outside, eyes scanning the area before spotting his target sitting on the river dock, wings drooped. Sodo pushed himself forwards, hands in his pockets as he approached Phantom–tilting some to try and get a glimpse.

“Tommy?” He mumbled, watching as Phantom turned to meet his gaze.

He gave a slight smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Phantom turned back out to the water, fingers holding a small, heart-shaped rose quartz Aether had gifted him. Their mate had come back from town with bags of gifts for his pack, specifically giving Phantom a decorative bag full of crystals. Sodo didn't know much about quintessence purposes with crystals, but knew it was something sacred to their element. Something Phantom and Aether shared appreciations for. But when Phantom had gotten to the bottom where that heart laid, curled in wire to be a necklace– Phantom instantly seemed off. He played it off well, thanking Aether for the gift before excusing himself outside. Dew was simply sent to retrieve him for dinner.

“Got something on your mind?” Dew asked, moving to sit down next to his mate.

The bat simply shrugged, eyeing the gift again. “I guess, just…Memories, is all.”

Dew nodded, looking out at the water. “You know I'm here to talk if you ever need, right?”

“I know.”

A strange silence sat over them, Dew occasionally passing glances to his mate before going back to the shimmer of the water. It took a while longer before Phantom opened his mouth again.

“You know how I told you about my pit life, right?” He questioned, refusing eye contact and his ears turning red from shame.

“Yeah…” Dew's gut twisted. “You've told me.”

Phantom laughed at himself, shaking his head before tearing his eyes away from the heart. “My master, Albus, was weird as fuck. Besides the whole–you know, sex slave-forced mate thing…There were these times that I'd gaslight myself so hard that he actually loved me. That I wasn't just some…Prize and property.”

The fire ghoul kept himself quiet, looking over as his mate talked, his own expression holding sadness.

“Every month, he'd leave for a day while he went to our trading posts. He was always looked up at for casting knowledge, he was like a fucked up version of Special. Always knew how to alter the mind, conjure things others tried for years to do. He was so smart on ancient magick…But, anyways, he'd come back and always would have a little gift for me. Usually it was treats and more jewelry for me to wear, but every now and then he'd bring me crystals and wind chimes.”

He continued, “I think it was two years in when he gave me my first rose quartz. A-And I just remember looking at him with such a different view for the first time. I convinced myself so hard that he honestly did love me. I mean, the crystal should've proven that, right? I was just lost in my own delusion and-”

Tears started flowing, Phantom covering his mouth as he openly began to sob, shaking his head. Dew moved closer, placing his hand on Phantom's back and the other resting over the other that stayed on his lap. The pack leader gently pushed a comforting smell, Phantom inhaling sharply as he tried to calm himself.

“I-I mean fuck! That's how you court people in our culture, and he'd just…” Phantom lowered his head, his ears drooped. “I thought I loved him, too…In reality I just had stockholm and was so trauma bonded to this asshole. I'm just an idiot.”

The newly summon moved, leaning into Dewdrop's hold, being hugged tightly. They whined as Sodo began to gently brush down his back, trying to wipe his eyes and gather himself better. Sodo nuzzled closer, exhaling.

“I know how that feels. Being so lost in your abuse you think it's normal–you deserve it and they're doing it for a purpose. Doing it because they love you. Any type of affection was better than anything.” Dew mumbled, stroking more down Phantom's back. “You're not an idiot, bug. You were trying to survive.”

“Does it ever get better?” Phantom looked up, his eyes glossy and just pleading for answers.

For once, Dew was unsure. He simply held Phantom tighter, linking their tails together.

“I think it does. I still struggle a lot, I mean–Shit, Aether reminds me too much of my own tormentor sometimes. Sometimes I have to double take him especially when it's dark. It doesn't help that he and Mountain were around near the end of my abuse. Kept me on my toes that they'd been influenced to follow what ‘they’ did.”

“But I thought Aether was the one to help you out?”

“He was and still is.” Sodo shrugged. “Doesn't change that my mind still associates his entire body with what I experienced. Trauma is a really, really confusing thing. Aether pushed it in my head so many times that healing isn't linear. Even after eight years, I still have night terrors sometimes.”

“I'm upset over a stupid crystal-”

Dew cut him off. “Hey. You can't control triggers and flashbacks, as much as it sucks. You being upset is very justified. Your trigger isn't something that should be overlooked.”

Phantom looked down again, his thumb running over the silver wire wrapped around the heart. “I just… I wish I could associate it with something better. Aether gave this to me out of love and kindness.”

“Stop beating yourself up over this, bug. Associations take a while to change, and I'm sure if you give yourself just a little bit more time, you'll be able to accept it.” Dew pulled Phantom closer. “But, I really do think it gets better. I mean look how far you've come! You went from hiding under the tables to sneaking into our beds, dork…You're able to laugh, you're able to live. I think that's impressive with everything you've gone through.”

A gentle whine and purrs erupted, Phantom squeezing his mate tightly before moving up to butt their horns together. Dew cupped his cheeks, smiling and leaning forwards to kiss at his cheeks, scenting against his neck before lightly nipping his bond.

“This thing right here?” His tongue carefully went over the bond. “This is my promise to you, Tom'. The entire packs promise–That we'll never let you be hurt again…Do you believe that?”

“I do…” Phantom moved back a bit, looking down at the crystal before handing it over to Sodo. “Will you hold onto it for me until I'm ready?”

“Yeah…Yeah, I can do that.”

Taking the necklace, Sodo pocketed the item, and in return Phantom went right back into his arms. They sat quiet for a moment as their rumbles passed back and forth, Sodo poking his muzzle against Phantom's jawline.

“By the way, Mountain is making both pork and chicken empanadas.”

Phantom shot up, scrambling to his feet – almost knocking Dew into the water which earned an aggravated hiss.

“Why didn't you tell me that?! Come on! You know Swiss’ fat ass takes all of them!!” Phantom squealed more, grabbing Dew's wrist and dragging him to his feet.

“Alright, alright! Fuck!” Still, he couldn't help but laugh as he let Phantom drag him back towards the abbey.

[keigologies]

kazuha has been a lone wolf for as long as he can remember; he struck out on his own to wander inazuma at such a young age and with everything that has come to pass in teyvat, that decision feels like it was made a million lifetimes ago. he has no home, no true home; there is no place for him to come back to, no building on land that provides a roof over his head for longer than he can stand. the crux is the only semblance of such a thing, of family that he has and he's alright with that.

but then you waltz into his life, as beautiful and as gentle as a crimson red leaf from a maple tree. you're a close friend of beidou's and it escapes kazuha how you've never managed to meet in all of his time with the captain's crew. you're the owner of an inn just off the docks of liyue harbor, an establishment that caters specifically to fleets like the one beidou leads. you offer the crux lodging when there's a particularly terrible storm brewing on the horizon, one that makes it ill advised to stay on the water. beidou accepts, of course, and the crew takes up most of your rooms for the night.

you serve them dinner, the best hot meal they've had in a while, hand-crafted and slaved over. you always pull out all the stops when the crux is in, beidou tells kazuha as you make trips from the kitchen to the dining area. you're a naturally caring person, it's something she appreciates about you; it's what has kept the crew going for so long. and he has to agree because the plates of almond tofu, mint salad, tianshu meat, and jade parcels you set before him rival the cuisine of xiangling. 

it's not until hours later, though, that the two of you officially meet. he's sitting out in the just-beginning rain, sat on one of the benches in the private little courtyard your inn boasts, when you appear in the threshold to snuff out the candles on the covered patio. you ask him why he's purposely sitting in the rain and he explains his reasoning for it: he enjoys being close with nature, he speaks its language, he appreciates it in ways that others don't. he's endeared by the way you stand and listen to him with rapt attention, not judging, not interrupting, just taking in his words and understanding. you leave him to it, bidding him a goodnight, his blond hair growing darker by the second as the rain wets him.

and when he comes in for the night as the rain comes down harder, he finds a couple of warm, fluffy towels by the door that weren't there when he'd gone outside. he's never really known the sweet taste of love in this way before, full-bodied selflessness that melts on his tongue like a sugar cube. 

and the more the crux visits liyue, the more you open your doors to the crew, the more you treat him to that saccharine sweet, warm love. and he, the man who prefers sleeping under the stars and reading poetry and listening to nature, the man who has a hard time staying in one place after so many years of wandering, finds himself wanting to stay a little longer every time he visits you. and that doesn't scare him nearly as much as he thought it would. he figures he might have to learn a new language, one of romance and home and staying put. he thinks he could do it with your help.

keigologies 2023. do not translate, copy, or repost my work on any site.

[skadilothbrok]

Given The Chance - Chapter 4

You had been sent out on a high importance recon mission that very same night, leaving no time for you and Anders to finish what you’d started. Even with the rotations of sleep and watch on the boat, you’d failed to find a single moment alone. Part of you thought the others were doing it on purpose.

You’d reached the coast of Belgium and quickly made your way to the target location that morning. Now you were lying hidden in the treeline as you surveyed the small camp you were here to gain intel on.

“Are we sure we can’t just kill one or two Nazis” Anders complained to Gus and you laughed at his comment.

“Just recon this time I’m afraid” Gus dismissed his comment as he continued to watch through his binoculars.

“You’re so impatient” you chided as you checked your watch, timing the guard rotations.

 “You can’t tell me you’re not bored too” he lightly pinched at your side and you swatted his hand away.

“I can promise you all the action you want when we’re finished” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively.

“Don’t tease me woman” he warned as he let out a huff of annoyance.

“I’m not” you raised your binoculars back to your face “teasing implies no follow up”.

“Remind me not to group with you two again” Gus complained.

“We will happily go solo” Anders lifted his binoculars but turned to look at you instead “though I’m not sure how much recon we’ll get done”. You let out a laugh before playfully blowing him a kiss.

“Yeah, definitely sending someone else next time” Gus shook his head at the two of you.

“Ooh, send Freddy” you suggested.

“Yes, he loves our company” Anders added.

You looked just in time to see Gus roll his eyes at the two of you “I’m starting to wonder if the boss sent you to the team just to test me” he shook his head at you “and unfortunately I requested you specifically Lassen”.

“You’re mistake” Anders laughed “and my good fortune” he turned back to you and made a biting motion that reminded you of the mark still present on your inner thigh. You were so distracted for a moment that you almost forgot to check your watch as the guards reappeared.

 Silence fell over the three of you for the next half hour as you focused on the job at hand. It was an effort to keep your mind from wandering, especially when you kept feeling Anders’ eyes on you. Eventually, the sun started to drop to the horizon, and you were free to head back to the rendezvous point.

Marjorie, Apple and Freddy were already there so you didn’t have to wait before heading back to the boat. Just before you reached the dock though, a whistle sounded from a nearby shed and Hayes popped his head around, beckoning you over.

“There a reason you’re not on the boat Hayes?” Gus asked as your group made their way over to him.

“Sure is Sir, it’s full of Nazis” came his answer.

“Yes! We get to kill some Nazi’s after all” Anders practically jumped with excitement.

“What happened?” Gus asked.

“Think the dockmaster’s sold us out” he explained “half hour after you left, they showed up, made straight for our boat. I got away without them seeing me”.

Slowly making your way to the small hill that currently hid you from view of the dock, you lay down and shuffled to peer over the top. Sure enough, a host of soldiers swarmed the dock. There had to be three dozen at least. Apple and Freddy appeared either side of you for a look.

“No more than forty of them” you told them, “unless they’re calling for back up as we speak we can deal with them”.

“I don’t know” Freddy pointed across to the dockmasters shack “they’re packing some heavy fire power”. Following his gaze, you spotted the MG 42 the Nazi’s had bought along with them.

“A bit much don’t you think?” you sighed.

“Our reputation precedes us” Apple scoffed.

“But how would they know it’s us?” you asked before turning to the others “please tell me that’s not the same boat you used last time?”

“Boat’s a boat” Gus shrugged. You shook your head before moving back from the hill and heading over to him “honestly didn’t think anyone had been left alive to report on it”

“So, what’s the plan now then?” Hayes asked as the group gathered around Gus who was visibly running through plans in his head.

“I like that boat” Anders shrugged “I’m inclined to say we keep it”.

“You just want to shoot some Germans” Freddy shot back.

“Of course,” Anders shrugged “but I also want to get back on British soil fast as we can” the corners of his mouth turned up as he glanced at you.

“I’m not getting shot up because you want to get laid quicker” Freddy insisted.

“Nobody’s getting shot up” Gus cut in “as long as we take out the Buzz Saw, we can deal with the rest easy enough”.

“And just how do you suggest we do that?” Apple asked.

“I’ll sort it” you chimed in “they don’t know my face” you shrugged when they all turned to look at you “I can get close enough without getting shot on sight”. Gus was processing the thought when Anders spoke up.

“And how do you plan on dealing with that gun when you get there?” he rose an eyebrow in challenge.

“I happen to have a talent for killing Nazi’s” you winked before turning back to Gus, awaiting his go ahead.

“Alright” he finally agreed as he started to formulate a plan.