#episode tag: Strange Energies

[star-trek-fandom-confessions]

#927

"Cupid's Errant Arrow" and "Strange Energies" are kind of similar episodes. Both consist of a girl (Mariner, Tendi) feeling jealous over their male best friend (Boimler, Rutherford) dating another girl (Barb, Barnes) and trying to sabotage dates between guy and said girl with the excuse of "saving" guy from some imaginary thereat (parasite, SMD).

[hauntingblue]

Little sister spoiling katakuri's fun who woulda thot

[axkirak]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : III]

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings:  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content Rating : Mature 18+  Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary: Once, your mother told you that dreams are messages from the deep. This time, you dreamed of a terrifying future—your own death.

Status: finished writing this fic! (It will end in Episode 14)

A/N : For this chapter, I was inspired by Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (2024), particularly the nightmare scene. I find it incredibly romantic and beautiful (without any sexual elements)

So that's it, close enough, welcome back furiosa and praetorian jack LOL

➡  Intro // EP : 1 // EP : 2 // EP : 4 // EP : 5 // EP : 6 // EP : 7 // EP : 8 // EP : 9 // EP : 10 // EP : 11 // EP : 12 // EP : 13 // EP : 14 (Completed)

Special OS : Phantom Thread // My mother is my enemy

[Episodes 3] Dreams Are Messages From The Deep

Tonight, you dream, and it is far from a pleasant one.

Once, your mother told you that dreams are messages from the deep, the mysteries of the universe, akin to precognition. But dreams are often uncertain, uncontrollable, and unpredictable. like omens or cryptic hints of what is yet to come, they are puzzles you must piece together yourself.

You see it again: the puzzles of fateful catastrophes and the unclear path of the future. Corpses are strewn across the floors of spacecraft and the ground. The dream flashes between these scenes, intertwining them as one, despite being at different times and places. You know it all means something—these deaths are all the work of the same person.

And then you encounter it...the embodiment of the dark shadow that has haunted you in your dreams for months.

Before, everything was shrouded in impenetrable darkness, like staring into the abyss where nothing could be seen but an endless void. But this time, the dream is different. Beneath the shadows, you begin to see the figure of that person—a tall, imposing figure dressed in a sleeveless black cloak that blends seamlessly with the surrounding darkness. His face is hidden behind a cracked metal helmet, with a terrifyingly wide grin etched across the lower half.

A familiar yet strange feeling stirs as you gaze at him, and beneath that thick mask, where no eyes are visible, you know he’s staring back at you.

A Jedi? That’s your first thought. But the red lightsaber in his right hand says otherwise. No, this is a Sith.

Suddenly, something within you screams, warning you to flee.

You instinctively start running, but you never get far. The energy around you envelops you, pushing you back into the darkness. You see his hand raised, drawing you in effortlessly. The lightsaber is gone now. It’s no longer needed. With just one hand, he could kill you easily, like crushing an insect.

In an instant, his strong hand is around your throat, squeezing the air from your lungs. Your eyes widen in terror, unable to breathe, as the blackness of death moves closer, leaving a whisper deeply embedded in your consciousness.

"I told you, you can't run away from me."

You scream and struggle, refusing to surrender, desperately searching for any way to survive.

Then you feel the cold steel of a blade in your hand, and instinctively, you know this is your only chance. Without hesitation, you lift the knife and thrust its sharp point toward his throat, determined to kill him before he kills you.

But your flickering hope extinguishes just as quickly when he catches your hand mid-strike. His deep, menacing laughter sends a shiver down your spine, and in that moment, you realize—this is yet another failure leading you toward your death.

And then, you wake up.

The knife is still in your hand, just like in the dream. But now, you're in your bedroom, not on a spaceship. There's no blood, no death, and before you is not the mysterious Sith but Qimir, his hand gripping yours tightly, the blade barely a hair's breadth away from his throat.

His expression is calm, composed, a stark contrast to your own, pale and shaken. "You had a nightmare," he says softly, gently easing the knife from your grasp. "Go back to sleep."

His voice is soothing and tender, gradually dispelling the lingering fear from the nightmare as your racing heartbeat slowly returns to a steady rhythm. Almost as if in a trance, you do as he says. You allow him to guide you back onto the bed, his hands warm and reassuring as they touch your face, lulling you back into the realm of sleep.

This time, you don’t dream at all.

Qimir isn’t joking when he says he will teach you.

He starts with the smallest details, such as distinguishing between dangerous and harmless people. "You wouldn’t want to pickpocket someone who could kill you, would you?" Qimir remarks, pointing out a dark-skinned man blending into the crowd with tattered clothes, his body concealed under a cloak. Yet, you can still glimpse a large scar on his upper arm. "That’s a bounty hunter. His gun is hidden under the cloak. These guys are quick. He’d shoot you before you could even touch his pocket." It is astonishing how Qimir can discern such details just by observing a person’s gait or how they carry their belongings.

The next lesson is about disguise—how to blend in so seamlessly that no one could ever recognize you. "You’ve done well so far in hiding yourself, but it’s not good enough to fool me," he says. His words seem mocking, but you can’t deny their truth. "You can’t spend your whole life running and hiding. The key is to accept who you are before you start lying about it. A lie can never become the truth, but you can learn to live with it."

"You talk like you’ve done this many times before," you retort, unable to resist teasing him. Yet deep down, you are curious too. He knows too much and is too skilled—as if he has intimate experience with such matters.

But Qimir doesn’t answer your question. He simply smiles at you. For a moment, you are slightly taken aback. His smile seems oddly familiar, as if you have seen it before, but you can’t quite place when or where.

"Let the lies be a part of you, but never let them consume who you are. No matter where you are or what role you pretend to play, never forget your true self."—This is the essence of Qimir's teachings, beyond the various techniques and tricks of disguise he has revealed to you.

There is a subtle weight in his words, something that hints at more than just instruction.

The last thing Qimir chooses to teach you, and what you find most difficult, is the art of combat—both armed and unarmed.

It isn’t that you have never learned to fight before. Alongside rigorous mental training, your mother also taught you how to use a knife. "Our lineage is one of fighters. A knife is like a part of our body. We fight from cradle to grave. If you can't wield a knife, you’ve wasted your heritage." Your mother’s words echo vividly in your memory as you twirl the knife in your hand, trying to recall and review the lessons you learned long ago.

"What are you waiting for?" Qimir’s voice snaps you back to the present. "Just holding a knife won’t make you win."

You look up to see him standing in the open field outside the quarters. Qimir looks different today, dressed in white instead of his usual dark colors. His shoulder-length hair, usually a wild mess, is neatly tied back into a tight ponytail. A challenging smile plays on his lips as he raises his right hand, brandishing a short knife, ready for battle at any moment.

You step toward Qimir cautiously, your bare feet feeling the rough earth and stones beneath you. The muscles in your body are fully alert, a reflex honed from the countless times you have been trained.

Yet none of your previous lessons have prepared you for a face-to-face fight with Qimir.

Qimir’s lessons are nothing like your mother’s. There is no compromise, no leniency, despite the fact that you are just a small woman. Every move he makes is forceful, direct, brutal, and potentially lethal if he truly intends to kill you.

Qimir strikes first; his attacks are relentless and unyielding. You barely manage to dodge, feeling the rush of air from his arm sweep past your face. The sharp blade grazes the tips of your hair, sending strands fluttering to the ground, where they land like droplets of blood.

You retaliate, thrusting your knife toward his ribs and abdomen, but Qimir blocks each attack with ease. The clash of metal rings out, sending shocks through your wrist up to your shoulder, the pain forcing you to grimace.

Both of you pull back, sweat beading on your faces, eyes locked in mutual assessment. You swallow hard, slowly circling to the side, seeking an opening that wouldn’t leave you vulnerable.

Qimir’s strength is his advantage, but yours is speed. You know that the longer this drags on, the worse off you’ll be. You have to act quickly and decisively—one swift, precise move is the only way to defeat him.

This time, you let Qimir come close, allowing him to initiate the attack. You twist your body to evade his knife, all the while searching for the perfect moment to strike back. The pressure from his relentless assault closes in on your thoughts, triggering your survival instincts. You love life. You don’t want to die, and you will not surrender easily.

You are cornered, and a cornered animal will do anything to survive.

Quick as thought, in the split second, Qimir is preparing his next attack. You flip the knife in your hand, aiming straight for his throat.

But then, everything changes. The scene before you shifts abruptly, overlaying itself with the dream from the night before. The sunlit ground turns into an endless void of darkness, and Qimir transforms into the mysterious masked man from your dream. You plunge your knife toward his throat, just as you did in the dream, and he catches your wrist with the same speed as before. The sound of mocking laughter fills your ears—cold and terrifying.

Fear surges within you as you once again face the hopeless truth—there is no way you can defeat him.

The vision ends abruptly as you lose your balance. The next thing you know, Qimir throws you to the ground with all his strength. Your back hits the earth hard before his towering frame pins you down completely. The sharp edge of his knife presses against your delicate throat, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to cause pain.

"You are distracted. If this were a real fight, you’d be dead by now."

He lifts the knife away but doesn’t move from above you. One of his hands brushes the disheveled hair from your face as he peers into your ink-blue eyes. "Something’s bothering you. Is it that dream?"

You press your lips together, fighting back tears. The lingering fear still clings to your mind, refusing to fade, and suddenly, you feel a surge of vulnerability. "Qimir, I don’t want to die."

Qimir stares at you, blinking in confusion, his expression full of bewilderment. "I haven’t done anything to you."

"You won’t, but others will," your voice trembles, on the verge of tears, yet not a single drop falls. "When you hand me over to those people, I’ll surely die."

Your words make him pause, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features.

He knows it can’t possibly be true. The client who hired through the Bounty Hunters' Guild had specified clearly: they want this woman alive. The client doesn’t care how you are captured, only that you are brought in breathing. This means they have no intention of killing you. In fact, it is likely that you are of some special importance, something too valuable to be lost.

That’s what has piqued his curiosity all along. What makes a seemingly ordinary woman so wanted? What makes you so convinced that you are going to die when nothing points to such a fate?

"Can you tell me why you think you’re going to die?" Qimir asks, his tone unusually serious and firm.

His intense gaze makes your breath catch. Decades of pent-up emotions linger on your lips. You want so badly to tell him everything—about yourself, your family, and your bloodline.

But your mother’s warning remains deeply rooted in your mind and heart. "Never trust anyone. Never reveal our secrets to a soul. Your trust will lead to ruin, not just for you but for everyone."

You close your eyes briefly, deliberately avoiding his penetrating gaze. "I can’t tell you," you whisper, a wave of guilt washing over you.

A heavy silence settles between the two of you, thick and suffocating. For a moment, you feel the intensity in Qimir’s eyes grow stronger, as if he is desperately trying to unearth the truth from you with his gaze alone.

The minutes that pass feel like an eternity. Finally, Qimir rises to his feet and extends his hand to you.

"Don’t worry. As long as you’re with me, you’ll be safe."

You grasp his hand and push yourself up, feeling the firm, steady warmth of his grip. There is something oddly comforting about it—a strength that almost makes you forget your fears.

You can tell that Qimir is frustrated, though he isn’t the type to yell or complain. On the contrary, whenever something troubles him or when he is dissatisfied, he grows silent, his expression unreadable, almost emotionless. You have spent enough time with him to recognize the signs, and you dislike this side of him intensely. You would almost prefer if he just yelled at you outright.

You remain standing where you are, confusion and turmoil swirling within you as you watch his broad back retreat into the house, disappearing behind the old wooden door.

Deep down, you want to trust him, but you aren’t sure if you can really place your faith in this man.

Footnotes:

[1] Though the Bounty Hunters' Guild didn't exist during the High Republic Era, this fan fiction takes creative liberties with canon for storytelling purposes. It's not 100% accurate—just enjoy the read!

[ataliagold]

and the moonlight baby shows you what's real

Title from Love Like Ghosts by Lord Huron. This is based off my own experiences with sleep paralysis, so yet again I'm projecting onto Steve :)

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

W/C: 1099

C/W: Sleep paralysis

Tags: post-vecna, established steddie, steve has sleep paralysis, eddie looks after him, steve needs a hug - he gets one

Summary: In the aftermath of Vecna, Steve's left with a variety of issues, including frequent episodes of sleep paralysis. Luckily, he doesn't have to suffer through them alone.

___

Steve’s eyes snap open. They lock on the figure at the end of his bed looming over it, shadowy and shapeless and huge.

His heart slams in his chest. Trying to suck in a lungful of air he finds he can’t, can barely force his chest to expand, his breath coming in tiny, rapid pants instead. There’s ringing in his ears, strange whispers competing for his attention around the room, and the figure is leaning over the mattress now, getting closer and he’s completely fucking stuck.

Frozen in place, Steve’s eyes dart left to where Eddie should be. He can make him out in the light of the moon pouring through the window, sleeping peacefully, unaware of the state Steve is trapped in.

Eddie knows about this. About the sleep paralysis. It had been plaguing Steve for a while now, but he’d been too embarrassed to say anything until Eddie had witnessed it firsthand one night and been convinced Vecna was somehow back, that he was coming for Steve just as he’d come for Chrissy…and Steve had been forced to explain. That this wasn’t anything supernatural, this was just…another of his many issues.

It was added to the list alongside his head trauma, his insomnia, his deteriorated hearing.

Steve had learnt to recognize it now, to realize when it was happening to him instead of thinking it was some strange nightmare every time, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still terrifying as hell in the moment.

And Eddie had helped him through several episodes of this by now, but he can’t help if Steve’s unable to wake him up and he can’t move…

His heart rate climbs rapidly. The shadow figure still looms, growing taller and taller and soon it’ll be touching him.

Suddenly, Steve feels himself being tugged towards the foot of the bed.

Logically, he knows he’s not moving - knows he’s still lying flat on his bed beside Eddie but it fucking feels like he’s being dragged toward that thing and fuck he needs Eddie to wake up…

He tries to make a sound. Tries to say Eddie’s name, tries to yell, anything.

A small whimper manages to claw its way from his throat.

It’s enough.

The mattress dips as Eddie rolls over, as he sits up and blinks down at Steve.

And Steve’s stuck in some dark place between asleep and awake, but he’s sure Eddie’s real, would know his boyfriend even if he were blind and deaf.

Realization crosses Eddie’s face, and he flicks on the bedside lamp.

“Stevie, sweetheart, you’re ok,” Eddie murmurs, shuffling closer to him but not touching yet. “This is sleep paralysis, whatever you’re seeing isn’t real. There’s nothing here but you and me, ok?”

But the shadow’s still there.

Steve’s told Eddie about the dark figure that haunts these episodes before, so Eddie knows what Steve’s scared of, but he still wants to tell him, tries to, only succeeding in making a small gurgling noise in the back of his throat.

“I’m here, Stevie. It’s…three twenty-three am. You’re in our bedroom, and this will pass in a few minutes, ok? Can you try move a finger?”

This was a tactic Dustin had suggested, once word of Steve’s…nighttime issues had spread. The kid had taken all sorts of books about sleep disorders out from the library, had researched until he’d found something actually useful. If Steve could force even a finger to move, then he’d eventually manage to move his hand, his arm, and at that point he could rip himself out of paralysis.

Steve focuses all his energy on the pinky of his left hand. His eyes shoot to the end of the bed again, where the shadow figure is bending down, where it’s about to fucking crawl onto the mattress…

“Hey, no, focus on me sweetheart,” Eddie slowly reaches for his hand, doesn’t squeeze it or move it, just lays it over Steve’s. Moonlight glows across his pale skin, and even in distress Steve thinks he’s fucking beautiful. “I promise it’s not real. Try and move your hand, yeah?”

Steve tries again. Manages a tiny twitch in his pinky.

Eddie grins. “There you go, try again.”

He does, curling the pinky towards his palm and back again.

“Now try and squeeze my hand,” Eddie encourages.

With his heart still pounding, Steve forces his frozen fingers to cooperate, clenching down on Eddie’s hand clumsily.

The shadow figure retreats across the bedroom, out the door. The ringing in his ears fades, and Steve manages to swallow, to take a gasping breath.

“You’re ok, I’ve got you, I’m here,” Eddie soothes him, reaching for him as Steve starts to move, as he curls inwards towards him, still trembling.

“Sorry,” Steve whines into his chest, as Eddie cradles him close.

“Shhhh, just breathe,” Eddie whispers, running a hand slowly up and down Steve’s back.

And Steve’s shaking even as his heart rate starts to slow, as he slumps into Eddie’s hold, as the adrenaline floods out of his system and leaves him strung-out and exhausted.

“Sorry I woke you,” Steve repeats, his voice hitching and stuttering, “I couldn’t…I didn’t know what to -”

“Hey,” Eddie interrupts, kissing the top of his head, “I’ve told you before, I want you to wake me up. Every time. I don’t want you going through that alone, ok?”

Steve nods slightly, hair brushing across Eddie’s collarbone with the movement.

“Did you see it again? The…shadow guy?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods again. “He was about to climb onto the bed.”

Eddie snorts, pulls Steve somehow closer to him. “Bit rude of him, fucker should probably ask before joining us in bed.”

Steve manages a tiny chuckle despite himself, rests his hand at Eddie’s waist, feels himself slowly settling against the comforting warmth of his boyfriend.

“Want me to read a bit while you go back to sleep?”

Steve nods, avoiding Eddie’s eye, still shy, still a stranger to accepting the help Eddie so readily offers him.

But Eddie only kisses him briefly, reaches for his book on the bedside table, and scans the page for where he’d left off.

Steve has no idea what the book is even about, but it doesn’t matter. It’s Eddie’s voice, calm and soothing and familiar washing over him that helps his breathing slow, that relaxes him back into a state where he can even consider going back to sleep again.

He lets his eyes droop. Feels the vibration of Eddie’s chest against his cheek, sinks further into the blankets, and allows sleep to take him again.

Eddie’s got him, after all.

___

[ak-vintage]

Quarry - Chapter 22

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x f!reader

Summary: Din Djarin is on what he expects to be his last bounty hunt for Greef Karga. After all, Nevarro is swiftly moving away from its previous reputation as a Guild member’s paradise, and Din has more important concerns now, like finding a Jedi to train his mysterious foundling. However, after capturing a wanted starship engineer who would rather go anywhere other than “home,” the Mandalorian is forced to reassess his priorities.

Your taste of freedom had been brief but glorious. Now you are a prisoner of the most infamous bounty hunter in the Outer Rim – it’s only a matter of time before he turns you in. There isn’t much you would not do to keep from being sent home, but as you find yourself growing closer to your captor and his strange little companion, you start to wonder whether escape is really what you want.

Set after Chapter 13: The Jedi but before Chapter 14: The Tragedy.

Chapter Tags & Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Reader is Mando's live-in starship engineer, second-person, no use of Y/N, minimal descriptors of reader character, light angst, canon-typical violence and peril, lots and lots of mostly made-up Star Wars technobabble

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3

Note: This chapter features events from season 2 episode "Chapter 16: The Rescue." You will notice borrowed dialogue and synced plot points.

---

Of the seven-person team that Din had assembled to rescue Grogu, you were the only one who had never had the experience of waking for the day only to immediately begin preparing for battle. However, as a pale sunrise bloomed over the horizon of this nowhere planet where you had found Bo-Katan, as the inhabitants of the Firespray all began to roll out of their bunks, you could feel the shift in energy like a tangible thing. The comfort and the softness of sleep, the comradery of your friendships, even the tender intimacy of your shared quarters with Din all dissolved as the ship’s lights flickered on and instead were replaced with an intensity of focus you had never encountered.

It was militant and almost entirely silent, the way each party member prepared themselves, and the lack of easy conversation that had become so normal on the Firespray over the last weeks set you on edge. Blasters were wiped down and loaded, armor was donned, and every belt, pocket, and holster was filled with backup supplies and secondary melee weapons. Everyone took turns in the mess, moving around one another quickly and efficiently like a well-oiled machine. They all seemed to favor light, nourishing breakfasts of nutrient-dense ration bars, canteens of water, and – in Fennec and Cara’s case – strong carafes of caf. You, however, could barely stomach your food, so tied up in knots was your body at the thought of the approaching challenge, but you forced down a few mouthfuls anyway at Din’s insistence.

“Epar, cyar’ika. Eat,” he bid you, hitting you with a hard stare through his visor. “You will need your strength.”

You did not have the same arsenal of supplies as the others, but you did take some time to back up your schematics of Gideon’s light cruiser onto a palm-held holoprojector you borrowed from Boba’s supplies. You also tucked a couple of datasticks into your pockets with some cyphers you recalled from your days of installing and configuring starship security and defense systems. Other than that, all there really was for you to do was to lace up your boots, whip your hair into a tight braid, and wrap your beloved scarf around your head like a headband. You didn’t really need it here, you knew, but at this point, it felt almost foreign to dress without it.

Just before you disembarked to board the Lambda shuttle with the rest of the group, Din took you aside and inspected your blaster while Cara Dune fitted you with a slick black leather utility belt from her own wardrobe. She fastened it snugly around the flare of your hips before slipping a matching leather holster onto the strap.

“Safer than keeping that thing in your pocket,” she quipped with a wry smile, nodding toward the blaster Din was currently polishing and reloading for you. You huffed a laugh and thanked her, but not before she slid three additional tibanna cartridges into your belt loops.

“You really think I’m going to need all this?” you asked warily.

The dark-haired woman shrugged, and you noticed that she had lined her deep brown eyes with kohl this morning, giving a fierce, predatory look to her striking features. “Maybe not, but better to have it than wish you did.” You swallowed thickly, nodding, and she clapped you warmly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ve got your back.”

“Cyare.”

At the sound of the endearment, you glanced over at Din and found him extending your blaster back to you. You took it with a murmured “thank you” and slipped it into the holster, feeling the cool, steady weight of it against your thigh. It was already more comfortable than having it shoved in your pocket.

“Are you ready?” the bounty hunter rasped.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Inclining his helmet at you solemnly, he pressed his hand into the small of your back and steered you toward the ramp. “Then let’s go.”

---

Mere hours later, in the depths of hyperspace, the boarding party clustered around the helm of the Lambda shuttle as you neared your destination. The recycled air was thick with anticipation, with the knowing that the moment you dropped out of light speed, there would be no more time for preparation. Of course, this was precisely the kind of thing that everyone had been trained for.

Everyone but you.

Shifting on your feet, your palm fell to the grip of your blaster, and you could feel the sweat on your skin slip against its textured surface. Your heart was hammering against your ribcage, your stomach heavy and acidic in your abdomen, and you struggled to keep yourself present – in the moment rather than in your head, lost in your anxieties. At the heart of it all, however, was frustration with yourself. You had fought for this chance, this opportunity to exercise your skills, to contribute, to be kriffing useful for once, and you refused to throw all of that away out of fear. This team needed you; Grogu needed you. You had to get it together.

And so instead of hyperventilating, as you thought you might have done otherwise, you focused on taking deep, steadying breaths and drying your palms against your boilersuit.

“Moff Gideon is mine,” Bo-Katan emphasized from her seat at the helm, hands steady and sure as she manipulated the controls without even hardly looking. “Got it?”

“He’s ex-ISB. He’s got a lot of information.” Cara adjusted her grip on her heavy-repeating blaster rifle, the butt of which sat propped on the toe of her boot. “I need him alive.”

Bo-Katan smiled icily. “I don’t care what happens to him as long as he surrenders to me.”

At that moment, Boba Fett’s low, gravelly voice crackled through the comm system. On one of the readouts on the console in front of you, you could see the vague outline of the Firespray pursuing you through the hyperspace tunnel. “Prepare to exit jump space.”

“Copy that,” the red-head replied. “Get the hell out of there as soon as they clear us to dock. And your shots have to look convincing.”

“Power up those shields, princess. I’ll put on a good show.” You smirked at the sound of his gentle condescension in spite of yourself.

The expression was echoed on Bo-Katan’s sharp-featured face. “Watch out for those deck cannons.”

There was a brief pause, and Boba sounded genuine this time as he responded, “Don’t worry about me. Just be careful in there.”

On the console in front of Koska, you watched as the glowing icon indicating your target coordinates grew ever larger in size.

This was it. It was time.

On instinct alone, you reached out, took hold of Din’s hand, and squeezed, suddenly desperate for something to ground yourself. All broad palms and long, thick fingers, he gripped you back with a ferocity you didn’t expect from his calm, collected exterior. Somehow, knowing that he was just as strung out as you over this eased your fears even more than the touch would have otherwise.

Koska, however, was the picture of composure as she narrated your approach. “Exiting hyperspace in three, two, one…”

The tell-tale, stopped-time sensation of dropping out of hyperspace tugged at your navel, and then –

Bright red blaster cannon fire lit up the forward viewport, Bo-Katan poured on the acceleration, and you took off at the fastest sub-light speed the Lambda shuttle could handle. Dodging Boba’s attacks with expert precision, you noticed that each round only narrowly missed the long, fin-like wings of your hijacked Imperial shuttle. The proximity of a few of them had your heart jumping into your throat, but each time, she managed to evade them.

Up ahead, looming pale and angular and absolutely massive against the inky blackness of space, precisely as you had pictured her, was Moff Gideon’s Imperial light cruiser. And you were headed straight for her.

Bringing her palm down on the comm controls, Bo-Katan hailed the cruiser and shouted into the receiver, affecting a distressed tone, “This is Lambda shuttle 2743, requesting emergency docking!”

Her distress call was met only with silence, and you couldn’t help but glance around at the others’ faces as the subspace connection remained dormant. Would the cruiser really ignore them? They looked like an ally, why would they not –

“Repeat – requesting emergency docking. We are under attack!” Bo-Katan echoed.

This time, a commanding, feminine voice responded. “Copy, Lambda shuttle. Request received.” Another pause, this one much shorter than the last, and then, “Stay clear of launch tube. Deploying fighter squadron.”

Bo-Katan shot a significant look at Koska, and the dark-haired woman clenched her jaw and nodded once. You realized they must have come to the same conclusion – the plan would need to remain the same even in the face of this new hurdle. In order to board the ship where it was most vulnerable, the Lambda shuttle would be facing down the TIE fighter squadron head-on – at the mouth of the launch tube.

Just as this thought occurred to you, a single silver TIE fighter streaked from the opening of the launch tube, rocketing out into space through the narrow walls of the aperture. Through the viewport, you watched as the fighter drew closer, closer, closer still. Bo-Katan held her course, however, continuing to dodge Boba’s cannon fire while never once wavering in her aim. For a moment, you thought the fighter might not adjust course in time, but then, at the last second, it veered hard to starboard and only barely missed clipping wings with the shuttle.

You swore you could feel a collective breath of relief being released across the room, but the feeling was short-lived as another TIE fighter appeared at the mouth of the launch tube.

If the first of the squadron had cut it close, this one was downright reckless. Blasting at top speeds through the narrow mouth of the tunnel, you were certain you could see the black reflective surface of the pilot’s helmet through his own transparisteel viewport before he finally dropped into a steep dive and ducked beneath the Lambda shuttle.

And still, Bo-Katan and Koska held steady. The aperture of the launch bay glowed bright blue in the distance, visible through the long, thin tunnel right at the nose of the light cruiser. Another fighter was being brought out – you could see it clearly now; another was about to launch, and the shuttle was nearly at the tunnel’s mouth.

You were coming in too hot. If Gideon’s crew launched that fighter, you would meet in midair, trapped in the restrictive space of the launch tunnel with nowhere to go, and no dodging or maneuvering – no matter how expertly done – would be enough to stop a collision.

The crew on the light cruiser seemed to have noticed the same. Bursting through the comm lines with urgency, the communications officer barked, “Request denied! Please clear launch tube until fighters deploy!”

Bo-Katan grit her teeth and responded, a bit of real anxiety beginning to creep into her façade. “Negative! Negative! We are under attack!”

You braced yourself against the nearest bulkhead as the shuttle dodged another volley of rounds from the Firespray, and in that moment, bright green blaster cannon fire joined the red. The two TIE fighters had joined the fray. Your pilots were left then to dodge both assailants and somehow still thread the needle into the mouth of the launch tube.

Gripping Din’s hand in yours even harder, you swallowed the ball of fear that had begun to build in your throat.

You had talented pilots at the helm of your ship – experienced fighters, cunning warriors both with nerves of steel, you told yourself. You had to trust their timing, their skills. Otherwise, you would be a harried mess before you even had the chance to step foot out of the shuttle and begin the mission in truth.

“Clear launch tube immediately!” the comm link commanded, and although she knew they could not see her, Bo-Katan shook her head, red bob dancing along her jaw.

It was miraculous, truly, what the would-be Mandalorian ruler was able to accomplish over the next few seconds. The sequence of events began to blur together, dissolving into one long, chaotic moment, but the next thing you knew, the entrance to the launch loomed directly in front of the viewport. You felt the ship shift with the mechanical vibration of the shuttle’s wings lifting into their vertical position, narrowing the ship dramatically, and just as they locked into place, you breached the mouth of the tube with mere inches to spare on either side.

But you were still coming in too hot, too fast. The short distance between the mouth of the tube and the ship’s shield-guarded launch portal was quickly disappearing, and there was no way the bulky wings of the Lambda shuttle were going to make it into that tiny opening unscathed.

“Hang on!” Fennec warned, seeing the same thing you did. Din dropped your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side as though preparing to shield you against the inevitable collision. You hid your face in the crook of his shoulder, unable to watch, as the aperture swallowed the shuttle whole.

The impact was immediate and brutal, clipping the edge of the portside wing and sending you, Din, and Cara all flying across the cabin and slamming into the unforgiving deck plating. Din cushioned your fall somewhat, though you couldn’t say the beskar was a much more comfortable place to land. The shuttle trembled violently around you, and bright sparks flew as both wing joints dragged along the inside of the launch tube. The belly of the ship bounced once, then twice, the vibration ringing through your teeth, and finally – after what felt like an eternity but in reality was a mere handful of seconds – you skidded to a stop at the end of the launch tube.

The moment the shuttle stopped rumbling beneath your bodies, Din and Cara were on their feet, and you scrambled to follow. This was the moment – time to execute the next phase of the plan. And time for you to leave the bounty hunter’s side and pray that you would reunite on the bridge unharmed.

Gripping the side of your face in one hand and drawing his blaster with the other, Din yanked you to him and pressed his forehead to yours one last time.

“K’oyacyi, cyare. Come back safe.”

“You, too,” you whispered, breath fogging his visor. “Go get him. Bring him home.”

“We’ve got her, Mando,” Cara assured him as she raised her blaster rifle, pushing her dark, disheveled hair out of her face. “C’mon. Time to go.”

You nodded once, drew your own blaster from your holster, and stepped back as Fennec shouldered her way to the rear of the cabin. With sharp, determined eyes, she did a quick inventory of the room, ensuring that all members of the boarding party were prepared to disembark.

When her gaze landed on you, she said, “Remember the plan, girl. Keep to the center of the formation, wait for clear windows to shoot, and for kriff’s sake, don’t try to be a hero.”

Releasing a huff of laugh, you agreed with a glib “yes, ma’am,” and then Bo-Katan’s sharp voice rang out behind you, the sound modulated by the sudden addition of her helmet vocoder.

“Drop the ramp – let’s go.”

As the ramp began to descend, dense, white coolant steam billowed from the shuttle’s undercarriage, obscuring your view of the bay ahead. In the distance, you could hear a Storm Trooper shouting, “Clear the launch tube! What are you doing? Get that thing out of here – ”

Whatever he was meant to say next, he never got the opportunity. With steady precision, Koska raised her blaster pistol and shot twice through the fog, and instead of more protests, all you heard was a pained “argh” and the sound of two armored bodies hitting the deck.

Then chaos erupted.

Shoulder to shoulder, Fennec and Koska led the charge down the ramp while Bo-Katan and Cara brought up the rear. You stayed tucked between them, blaster drawn, head down, the marshal’s broad form shielding you from the bright red bolts of light that filled the air. In the distance, you could see more than a dozen Imperials charging at the shuttle – some in full Storm Trooper white, others in officer gray, all with blasters drawn, raining fire on your boarding party.

But the women who surrounded you moved as a unit – like one that had been fighting arm-in-arm for years rather than days. It was tactical, the way they divided the oncoming hoard of combatants, and in perfect synchronicity, they cut through the launch bay like a hot knife through butter. The sound of it was overwhelming – the overlapping shrieks of volley after volley of blaster rounds, the whip of a grappling line from one of the Mandalorians’ vambraces, the flare of heat from a jetpack, the echo of heavy boots sprinting across durasteel deck plating. You kept your head on a swivel, your own blaster at the ready, but by the time your party had made it to the far side of the launch bay – leaving a trail of Imperial bodies in your wake – you found that you hadn’t even needed to fire it.

They had eliminated everyone in their path with such deadly precision, your presence had been entirely superfluous.

However, you hardly had the opportunity to feel self-conscious about that fact. Just as you had predicted, just as Mayfeld had warned you as you sat huddled over datapads and schematics in the depths of hyperspace, the moment the ship’s internal sensors detected blaster energy signatures, the launch bay doors slid shut. Emerging from the depths of the bulkheads on either side, two blast doors slammed closed over them, and a series of forbidding red lights flared to life around the metallic doorframe. The control panel to the right of the door also glowed red, and you felt the faintest surge of satisfaction at the sight.

The first security checkpoint had been activated. No one would be leaving the launch bay without passing a genetic scan and a chain code verification. You had been right.

“You’re up,” Fennec beckoned as the group approached the foreboding door, and you nodded silently.

This was what you were here for. This was something you could do.

Slipping to the front of the group, you took notice of how the other members closed ranks around you, placing their own bodies between you and any potential threats. The room around you was silent, almost eerily so, and you knew that none other than your team had been left alive. But still, they protected you.

For now, however, you shoved all of the warm feelings that realization elicited to the side and instead dug one of your arsenal of datasticks out of your pocket. You gripped it between your teeth to free up your hands, and then, digging the tips of your fingers into the frame of the control panel, you wrenched it open, exposing the inner workings of the terminal. The wires and switches and flashing lights before you might have looked anonymous and random to others, but to your eyes, it was a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Plugging the datastick into the open port, you went to work.

Slice into the internal security system. Access the secondary protocols. Isolate the launch bay terminals, cut them off from the rest of the system. Identify the unique override sequence. You frowned, drawing your lower lip between your teeth in concentration. The press of bodies around you shifted restlessly as the seconds ticked by. You resisted the urge to reassure them – you were close, you were almost there, just one more redirect and –

“That’s it,” you breathed, removing the datastick, replacing the control panel cover. With quick fingers, you entered a series of commands into the panel, and suddenly, all of the lights surrounding the blast doors flickered blue. With a loud, mechanical thunk, every layer of the barrier retracted back into the bulkheads, and the path ahead looked back at you, clear and open.

Behind you, Cara released a breath of relief, and Bo-Katan swept an impassive stare from the bottoms of your boots to the top of your head, as though appraising you. “Well done,” she said, brusque but earnest. “Now fall back.”

You tucked your datastick back into your pocket and withdrew your blaster from your holster as you retreated back into formation. Koska took point once again as the party charged down the open corridor, and you encountered no enemies along its length. After a handful of minutes, you came upon a path that branched perpendicularly to the left, and Koska held up her fist for you all to slow to a stop. Blaster drawn, she peeked around the corner and scanned the area quickly. “All clear.”

Bo-Katan rounded the corner ahead of her, taking in the new corridor for herself. “A little too clear,” she agreed. Beckoning the group forward, she proceeded cautiously, and as you advanced, you realized that you had come upon an open-air catwalk connecting two sections of the ship. Above and below the narrow strip of decking that stretched out before you was nothing but open, vacuous space, and if you dared to glance down, you could see the infinite blackness twinkling back at you from beyond the life support system’s ray shields. Swallowing the wave of anxiety that washed over you at the sight, you kept your eyes on the back of Bo-Katan’s helmet instead.

“Keep your eyes open,” she cautioned as you began to traverse the catwalk. You were back to the center of the formation, as planned, allowing the others to keep themselves between you and the unfamiliar surroundings, but your blaster remained firmly gripped in your hand anyway, ready to defend yourself should you need to.

You made it about halfway across the catwalk unmolested. Just as you were beginning to think that this leg of your journey might prove to be blessedly simple, four Storm Troopers emerged from the open door ahead.

As if they had planned such a synchronous maneuver in advance (which, to be fair, they probably had), both Koska and Bo-Katan fired up their jetpacks and dove off opposite edges of the catwalk, leaving you, Cara, and Fennec to face the oncoming assailants alone. The marshal was quick to dig her fingers into the back of your boilersuit and tug you bodily behind her, but that didn’t stop you from raising your pistol. On instinct alone, you thrust the muzzle of your blaster into the space between the other two women’s bodies, and your fire joined theirs in gunning down the troopers. You couldn’t be certain whether any of your rounds landed, but by the time all of them had either crumpled to the floor or fallen off the edge of the catwalk, the unlucky Storm Troopers had only managed to get off a single round. No one from the boarding party had been harmed.

“Freeze! Drop your weapons!”

A sharp, modulated voice rang out behind you, and your stomach dropped, all of the bravado you had felt mere moments ago slipping away as quickly as it had come. Turning slowly, you found six more Storm Troopers equipped with sleek black blaster rifles spilling onto the catwalk.

“Dank farrik,” you swore under your breath, icy, paralyzing fear gripping your spine for the first time since leaving the shuttle. There had to be too many of them. You didn’t have the element of surprise like you had with the others; these troopers already had their weapons trained on you, and on this narrow walkway, there was nowhere to hide.

Should you surrender, you wondered? Drop your pistol to the floor, put your hands in the air? The idea had your stomach rolling. No, you couldn’t give up, not now –

The distinctive rumble of jetpacks reverberated off of the nearby bulkheads, and a rush of relief so powerful it nearly had your knees buckling washed over you as both Koska and Bo-Katan shot out from their hiding places under the catwalk. From several feet in the air, they rained blast fire down on the unsuspecting troopers, red light and white sparks flying with each impact, and in a handful of seconds, all six of your would-be captors had collapsed into white plastoid heaps on the deck.

You sent the two Mandalorians grateful smiles as they landed smoothly back on the surface of the walkway, and then you were off again, proceeding with haste through the open archway ahead.

---

The deeper into Moff Gideon’s cruiser the boarding party penetrated, the more confident you became. The adrenaline racing through your veins felt less unsettling, rattling on your nerves; instead it seemed to focus you, blocking out all other concerns and fears and narrowing your field of vision to just the mission at hand. Keep your head down. Shoot when you have to. Override every barrier, disable every checkpoint in your path. Trust your comrades to keep you safe, but watch their backs, as well. It reminded you a bit of the Razor Crest’s pursuit of Kevok Teklolq, the way you found yourself able to sink into this role, to concentrate only the task in front of you to the exclusion of all else.

As you made your way across a densely-packed cargo bay, surrounded on all sides by Fennec and Cara’s blaster fire and crumpling white-armored bodies, you felt as focused and in-control as you did behind the helm of a starship. So when one of those anonymous plastoid helmets rounded the corner in front of you, blaster at the ready, you didn’t hesitate, and at this close of a range, even you couldn’t miss.

You shot once. Twice.

The soldier let out a pained grunt and toppled to the floor, and if bile rose in the back of your throat at the sound, you were too focused on reaching the next checkpoint to notice.

Unfortunately, that next check point appeared to be at the far end of an endless series of corridors, and each one seemed to be filled with more Imperial forces than the last. The closer you drew to the bridge, the tighter the defenses. Keeping tight to your formation, the five of you cleared each hall as you entered it, the occasional round bouncing off of Bo-Katan and Koska’s armor as you advanced. It wasn’t until you reached the last turn that the endless wave of combatants became too much to bear.

“Split up!” Cara barked, breaking away from the group. Her massive blaster rifle propped firmly under her arm, she placed herself in front of the rest of you, strong shoulders broad and centered as she took on the oncoming troopers like a force of nature. You tucked yourself behind a support beam, pressing yourself against the bulkhead to steady your aim and did your best to back her up, but next to her oversized rounds, the ones coming from your little pistol seemed to almost inconsequential.

However, as Cara reached the end of the corridor, you heard a distinctive whirring, seizing sound coming from her rifle, and you watched as she quickly found her own support beam to take shelter behind as she cried, “My gun’s jammed!”

Fennec was quick to jump to her aid, yelling, “I got you!” The assassin was nimble, light on her feet, dodging shot after shot as she cut down the corridor toward where Cara had hidden. She was good, great even as more and more Storm Troopers fell at her feet, but it wasn’t enough. The two Mandalorians were occupied with forces approaching from behind, and while the marshal wrestled with her uncooperative weapon, Fennec was outgunned.

A sickening bolt of fear broke through your concentration as you watched yet another trooper round the corner into the corridor, raise his blaster, and take aim directly at the Rebel dropper at his feet.

“Cara!”

Again, you didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. You shot off three rounds, two of which arced wide, but the third one kept true and collided with the trooper’s chest. He staggered back with the force of the impact, a hollow “ugh!” ringing out through his helmet, and then Cara Dune was on her feet once more. Having given up on repairing her blaster rifle, she deftly spun the thing around and wielded the stock like a bludgeon. Lifting the gun high, she shattered the trooper’s helmet in a deadly blow, and white shards of plastoid sprayed through the air as the man collapsed, motionless on the ground.

The marshal shot a wild grin over her shoulder at you, pride gleaming in her dark eyes. “Thanks,” she huffed breathlessly.

You weren’t certain how you felt about that sentiment just now, knowing that you were being thanked for helping her to take a life, even if it had been to save hers. But you could unpack that another time, you decided. Now, your expertise was needed at the doors to the lift that loomed ahead – the lift that would take you to the cruiser’s bridge deck. You were nearly there.

You didn’t wait to be prompted. While the others polished off the remaining troopers, you darted over to the lift, outlined as all the other checkpoints had been in bright red lights. You got to work immediately – peeling back the control panel cover, plugging in one of your datasticks, everything just as you had done for the previous checkpoints. However, as you felt the rest of the boarding party fall into formation behind you, you noticed that each time you thought you had disabled a set of protocols successfully, the effects seem to only last for a moment or two. The layers of security would fall away, and then they would surge back into place, as if you hadn’t just spent long, precious seconds systematically taking them apart.

“Fuck.” The curse came out breathless, and you could feel sweat gathering on the back of your neck and across your forehead as the realization shot down your spine like a livewire. “They’re changing it.”

“What is it?” Bo-Katan asked sharply, her modulated voice sounding just over your shoulder.

“The ship’s crew is countering. The security algorithm has started to vary – they’re trying to stop us from reaching the bridge.”

“Can you compensate?”

You weighed your answer only briefly before nodding. “Yes.”

The new cypher was complex, more nuanced and layered than the first, as though designed to test the limits of your knowledge and see how far you could push them. As you keyed through the terminal, you dug through your memories, your experiences with programs like this one. You pictured your father’s starship database, the endless stores of information, wishing you could remember even half of what you had studied at his side. You had always been more of a hardware girl, anyway; more than anything, you wished you had your plasma torch just so you could see how the security team on the bridge would respond to you simply cutting through the doors they erected in your path.

“Not to rush you, engineer, but if we need to find an alternate way to the bridge, we need to know now.”

“Shh,” you whispered, keeping your eyes on the open terminal before you. You were so close. You could feel it, you just needed to focus, you just needed –

There.

Your hands flew to reassemble the control panel, dropping your datastick back into your pocket once more. One quick command sequence, the foreboding red lights flickered blue, and the lift doors slid open without prompting.

All of the breath left your lungs in one loud exhale, and then you were all piling into the lift car. You input the bridge level number before anyone could ask, and as the car began to rise, you collapsed back against the durasteel wall in relief.

That had been too close for your comfort.

The near-complete silence in the narrow walls of the lift was jarring after the sounds of battle. You could hear the pounding of your heart for the first time since you had left the shuttle, and your own breath sounded too loud in your ears. In the quiet, Bo-Katan turned to you and demanded, “Did you shush me back there?”

Stars, had you? You supposed you had. Perhaps not the wisest choice – to be so disrespectful to the future Mand’alor. It hadn’t been consciously done, but still…

Thankfully, you were saved from needing to answer for this slight by Marshal Dune banging the butt of her blaster rifle on the floor and cursing loudly. “Dank farrik!” She fussed with the action, opening and closing it multiple times, blaster parts clanking against one another in a way no one in the lift could have ignored. “Son of a mudscuffer!”

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” Bo-Katan asked wryly.

With gritted teeth, Cara slammed the stock of her gun down once more, this time with enough force that you could feel the vibration of it through the floor. A distinctive whirring sound emanated from the depths of the rifle, and you breathed a sigh of relief as she said, “I think that did it.”

Just then, the lift arrived at the bridge level, and the marshal swung her oversized weapon around toward the opening lift door. “Excuse me,” she muttered under her breath, and then she was leading the charge, teeth bared, pouring a never-ending stream of glowing yellow blaster fire down the enemy-filled hallway.

“Hostiles! Stop!”

The command from one of the Storm Troopers ahead did not deter you. The four of you followed in the marshal’s wake, unleashing every ounce of aggression you had left, and just as before, the dense press of armored bodies fell in the face of your party’s sheer force. However, as you gained ground toward the bridge, which shone in the distance, you watched as one final security checkpoint – one you hadn’t planned for – flared to life around its entrance. Warning lights glared red in the frame, two layers of blast doors slammed shut at the end of the corridor, and you swore you could feel the leaden finality of them reverberate through your bones.

Somewhere off to your right, Fennec shouted your name through the deafening roar of blaster fire.

“Go! Get that door open!” she shouted, her low, warm voice hoarse and strained. “I’ll cover you!”

Wordlessly, you nodded, and then you were off like a shot, sprinting down the remaining distance between you and the door with single-minded focus. You did not allow yourself to look as troopers fell around you at the end of Fennec’s rifle, did not allow yourself to hesitate as you jumped over their bodies, as you ducked their flying blaster bolts. You trusted the assassin. Your teammate, your friend. She would keep you safe as you ran. She had to.

You nearly skidded to a stop by the time you made it to the bridge’s entrance. Bracing yourself with your palms against the durasteel, you curled your shoulders inward and tried to make yourself as small a target as possible as you got to work. There was no four-fighter squadron shielding your back this time. You would need to be fast.

As you sliced into the system, you found even more modifications to the algorithms than you had seen on the lift. Brows pulled low, lip between your teeth, you took deep, steadying breaths as you worked. You kept the peril of your situation at arm’s length, knowing that if you allowed yourself to experience it, to really hear the fight going on around you, you would freeze. Instead, you kept your eyes on the terminal, and you ripped the protocol to shreds.

You were putting the control panel cover back on when you heard it – Cara’s voice, then Fennec’s, then even Bo-Katan’s cutting through the chaos. Your name, repeated over and over. “Get down! Get down!��

You hit the deck on your knees, legs collapsing beneath you.

And three blaster bolts collided with the durasteel blast doors right where your head had been.

You felt as though your stomach had fallen clean out of your body as you stared up at the glowing hot dents in the metal, all clustered together right where you had been standing. Sweat poured down your face, fatigue settling in your bones. Stars, that had nearly been the end of you. Your mind flew to Din and then to Grogu, thankful down to your core that you hadn’t seen the last of them.

So overwhelmed were you that you barely noticed Cara coming up behind you until she hauled you to your feet.

“You’re all right, sweetheart, shake it off,” she encouraged, brushing imaginary dust from your shoulders. “We took care of that guy, don’t worry. Let’s get in this room, huh?”

You nodded gratefully. With the other woman’s arm still tucked protectively around your shoulders, you entered the final command sequence, and the security system disarmed.

The party made quick work of the few Imperials left on the bridge when the doors opened. Fanning out across the room, it took only a handful of quick, efficient shots to have the entire bridge crew on the ground.

Koska charged straight for the security station, withdrawing an abandoned code cylinder from the console. “Weapons systems disarmed,” she said. “Secondary security protocols also disabled. Everyone should be able to move freely now.”

Thank the Maker. All that was left now was to wait for Din to rendezvous with you all, and with any luck, he would have Grogu in tow. Your relief was all-consuming, and you found yourself sinking into one of the officers’ chairs with a sigh.

However, there was one member of your party who did not seem especially pleased with the results of your efforts. After taking a full tour around the perimeter of the bridge, Bo-Katan Kryze came to stand in front of the viewport, confusion and fury pouring from her in palpable waves even through her impassive helmet.

Shoving both of her blaster pistols into her holsters with force, she hissed, “Where’s Gideon?”

You glanced around at the bodies that littered the floor, seeing a handful of troopers, a couple of officers in gray... But no one in command black.

Moff Gideon wasn’t here.

---

Mando'a Translations:

epar - eat k’oyacyi - Cheers! Hang in there! Come back safely. Literally, "stay alive"

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

I'll Be Your Hero

I did a quick 1,562 words based on this picture this morning:

I'll Be Your Hero (1562 words) by NeverlandPoet Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Tommy Kinard, Henrietta "Hen" Wilson, Karen Wilson, Athena Grant, Vincent Gerrard, Maddie Buckley, Howie "Chimney" Han Additional Tags: Fluff, firefam - Freeform, Evan "Buck" Buckley Loves Tommy Kinard, Tommy Kinard Loves Evan "Buck" Buckley, Speculation for 9-1-1 (TV) Season 7, Season 7 episode 9 speculation, speculation based on promo pics, POV Tommy Kinard

Read under the cut or on AO3 (see above for link)

— Choose your own part, make it worth and return —

"We get a medal and cake, I could get used to that," Buck whispers in his boyfriend's ear.

He’s enthusiastic, almost brimming with energy, it’s adding to the delicate whiff of his breath on Tommy's skin. A stimulating mixture, alas, it’s the wrong time and place for this kind of thoughts. Tommy just smiles, clutches his plate of cake and wishes the celebrations would come to an end.

Buck is quite distracting. Since he has this medal around his neck, he looks like a Labrador puppy who has been given his first treat. That's a praise kink, for sure, and Tommy just knows he's gotta store this information deep in his mind. Most of all, the man just looks so happy. So content. Tommy never knew that seeing someone else so happy could be so important to him. He looks at Buck – his boyfriend, for goodness sake, how did that actually happen? – and his throat constricts, and it has nothing to do with the fact that he has stuffed far too big a piece of cake into his mouth.

Tommy is nervous for reasons not entirely clear to him. This accolade is superfluous, he thinks, and maybe it has something to do with that; after all, what they did was a certain gray area. However, a small voice inside him is more indicative of the people who are here today. Gerrard is here, for example. And Tommy, known to be so confident, so serene, realizes that he is not quite so calm inside.

Buck is, of course, responsible for this. Evan. A name that melts in the mouth like the sweetest candy. A man that has melted Tommy’s heart, in several ways. But also the reason for his restlessness. Buck is so excited, so happy, but also... sensitive, in a very good, but vulnerable way. And Tommy would hate to see that happy face crumble over a stupid remark.

Tommy feels Buck's hand on his arm. Damn, that uniform adds something to the man’s hotness, he’s hardly listening to the words tumbling out of this beautiful lips.

"... with Christopher, I'll be right back," Buck says.

He’s gone in a flash, and Tommy feels strangely lonely in a crowd of people to whom he should also belong. It’s nobody’s fault but his own he still feels disconnected. He’s used to not getting too involved with people. This façade has crumbled quite a bit since he started dating Evan, though.

He gives himself a jolt and wanders around, the plate of cake still firmly in his hand, without actually knowing exactly what kind of cake it is and how it tasted. Hearing his name startles him, he almost drops it.

"Tommy!"

This is Hen and her wife Karen. He remembers Hen talking about her. She looks nice. So why is he nervous?

"Hey," he says, undecided where to put the plate of cake, so he keeps clutching it. "Karen, right? You must be proud of Henrietta."

It's just small talk, harmless, but Tommy wonders why the two of them are ... scrutinizing him like that.

"Oh, I only call her that when she's up to something," Karen replies, smiling.

"Must have received her with Henrietta! then, when you found out about the ship," Tommy says, overemphasizing the name with raised brows.

They laugh, he feels like he's broken the ice, and Karen says, "I'm glad this achievement is being recognized. Yours, especially, Tommy. I'm glad you brought them all back in one piece."

"More or less," he shrugs, watching the women exchange affectionate glances.

That's us, he thinks, at some point. A pleasant idea for someone who – perhaps for a moment – thought that the 118’s pretty boy was just in for a one-night stand. This turned into a few nights, the best nights Tommy can imagine, and he found out that Buck is, contrary to the rumors, a man for more. Tommy can think of a lot more.

"We wanted to talk to you about something," Hen interjects, and now they exchange another look, but Tommy can't quite interpret it.

"Oh?" he says, something's up, clearly, and he holds on to his plate like a lifeline for some reason.

"We're happy for you, really," Karen says, and Hen cocks a brow as she looks at her wife.

"Why the telling off, then?" she asks.

"Never said I'm not happy for them, Hen."

So, Karen is clearly the strict one in this relationship, fine, but they both seem to have forgotten that Tommy is still there, and he blinks in confusion.

"I’m not sure what…" he starts, but Karen cuts him short, and now her whole demeanor says this is serious.

"We care for Evan," she says. "Extended family, so to speak. He means a lot to Hen, and therefore he means a lot to me, and we don't want him to get hurt."

"I don't intend to..."

Karen raises a hand, now she strangely looks like his elementary school teacher, and Tommy sees Hen gently push her hand down.

"He's been hurt a lot," she continues. "And all of this is new to him."

"We've suspected for years that he's not as straight as his girlfriends suggested," Hen interjects, and now the tension drops noticeably, and they share a laugh.

"Just be good to him," adds Karen.

Looking at her, Tommy thinks how strange it is to hear this from a woman he has only known for two minutes, but that she’s so right. He wants nothing more than to be good to, good for Evan.

"I promise."

Tommy feels like his voice doesn't quite belong to him, and there must have been something in it that softens the faces of the two women in front of him.

"That's all I need," Hen says warmly, patting Tommy's shoulder encouragingly, "and if you ever need help, come to us."

"Help?" asks Tommy with a crooked smile, slightly confused.

"Oh, you don't even realize what you've gotten yourself into yet. Evan Buckley is a force of nature."

Giggling and waving, the two walk on and Tommy stays behind, blinking. A force of nature, yes, that's for sure. He looks at the cake on his plate, realizes he's had his thumb in it the whole time and licks it, indecently reminded of Evan again. Where is that man anyway? Tommy looks around and sees him sitting at a table with Christopher, and it's unclear who’s talking whose ears off.

Indecisively, he moves in this direction, carefully avoiding Bobby. They only locked eyes for a minute, and the captain instantly had a look on his face that said "he needs the talk."

However, he can't quite escape Athena, the woman suddenly builds up in front of him saying, "Tommy! I hope you have a minute later, Bobby and I would love to chat."

They've already thanked him for the rescue in private, but of course that was before they knew about him and Buck, so Tommy knows exactly – thanks in part to Hen and Karen – what kind of conversation this is going to be.

"Sure," he says with a disarming smile and escapes her for now.

He doesn't get far, because there are Howie and Maddie, arms linked (God, all the couples here are so sweet).

"Oh, Tommy," Maddie says, and Howie next to her just goes, "Uh-oh, Tommy."

Maddie gives her husband a stern look, and he continues, "She wants to give you the Buck talk."

"You'll have to get in line."

Howie laughs, while Maddie looks confused. Fortunately, Buck arrives at this moment as if he’s heard his name, and as always it seems like the sun rises for Tommy. Buck is still pretty wound up, and although Tommy knows the man can take care of himself, he also knows he's going to need some time to calm down after all of this.

"Oh God, that's his Tommy face, let's go," Howie says, pulling Maddie aside before she can say anything.

If that's his Tommy face, then... Tommy's throat is getting tight again, and he hasn't touched the cake for a while. Buck, at any rate, looks at him with shining eyes, an almost longing smile, his head slightly tilted, his hair a little tousled; damn, Tommy wants nothing more than to press a kiss to those tender lips right now. He clears his throat.

"All good?" he asks.

Buck's expression changes slightly, his smile deepens.

"I'm doing great, what about you?" he asks quietly as he puts a hand on Tommy's arm.

The touch burns in the best way possible. Before Tommy can answer, Gerrard approaches. There’s the hint of a frown on Evan’s face, and Tommy braces himself. His boyfriend seems to notice the tension in his muscles, because he gives him a look that is not just affection, but... understanding.

"Buckley, Kinard," says Gerrard, "good job."

Quite a bit of praise from this man's mouth, and many years ago that would have been important to Tommy. Evan has witnessed the man himself, but many things he knows only because Tommy has told him, and Tommy already knows what he thinks about the former captain.

"To Tommy's credit," Buck says. And then he looks at Tommy, puts an arm around him, and Gerrard's eyes go wide as he adds, "I'm extremely proud of my brave boyfriend."

[sugar-coated-prat-dragon]

Title: Merlin compared being kissed by Gwen to being in heaven. 😘💋

Bonus: Uther ironically referred to the glowing blue sphere of light protecting his son as Arthur’s ‘guardian angel’ 😇

Episode: "A Remedy to Cure All Ills”, and “Excalibur” questions and my thoughts.

Questions by @tansyuduri

Tagging: @miyriu @samwinjester

Books used for reference: “Poisoned Chalice”, “The Death of Arthur” and “Lancelot and Guinevere”

Note: I don’t have answers for these specific questions. But I did find more book references to support them.

Episode: A Remedy to Cure All Ills

Question: Edwin (referring to the beetles) 🪲: "These little angels", which is strange because I don’t remember the show ever mentioning angels before?

Angels usually fall under the umbrella of Christian/Jewish/Muslim (and a few others)?

My thoughts 💭 : I think it’s interesting that the term ‘guardian angel’ is actually used in the books and ironically, it’s Uther himself who uses it.

Uther ends up being the one to refer to the glowing ball of light that protected Arthur at the cave of Balor and from the Balorian Spiders as a ‘guardian angel’.

Although to be fair, Uther didn’t know the metaphorical conversation that his son was referring too of ‘someone watching out for him’ was a magical being or he’d have flown off the handle.

'I think there's someone watching over me.. he mused dreamily almost to himself. 'Someone keeping me from harm.'

On the other hand, when Arthur cast his thoughts back on the presence of the blue sphere of light, he considered the debt he viewed himself as owing to his mysterious guardian and what its presence in that moment meant.

Arthur also chose to call his mysterious savior a ‘guardian’ and a ‘guide’, rather than an angel.

Book description: A mysterious, glowing orb floating high above his head. He remembered how it had led him to safety the time he'd encountered Nimueh.

'I think there's someone watching over me...' he mused dreamily almost to himself. 'Someone keeping me from harm.'

Uther got up from his chair and moved round, considering his words.

'Maybe you're right. On your long journey to become king, you'll need a guardian angel.'

Their eyes met, and each broke into a smile.

- Arthur brushed the stonework with his hand, by way of a shrug. 'I don't know,' he said.

The debt he owed to his mysterious guardian was not something he could shake off.

(Source: “Poisoned Chalice” and “The Death of Arthur”)

Question: Morgana (referring to Edwin healing her): "But thank heaven he did."

While the word usually has a connotation of Christianity/Judaism/Islam. It can also possibly have Pagan connections?

My thoughts 💭 : Merlin mentally compared being kissed by Gwen to being in heaven and yet mused that he thought it would be less cluttered there (🫠 🧹🧽 )

Heaven was referenced several times during Merlin’s fight with Nimueh on the Isle of the Blessed. Including, the thunder, lightning and torrents of rain.

Book description:

- Besides, the room he had woken up in looked a lot like Gaius' chambers.

Heaven, he imagined, would be considerably less cluttered and dusty.

He cracked a grin of his own. 'No, I'm a ghost come back to haunt you.'

He was about to laugh, but Gwen sprang forward and pounced on him, stunning him into silence with a kiss. Wow, thought Merlin. Maybe the dust was only an illusion and this really was heaven after all.

- The sky exploded in flashes of lightning, mighty claps of thunder reverberating through the air as though all the gods in heaven were at war.

At Merlin's command, a tumultuous bolt of lightning leaped from the heavens, striking Nimueh's body.

He saw a look of pure terror on her face as the colossal forces poured into her, her arms outstretched in a wild attempt to dissipate the energy. Nimueh's skin began to burn with a fierce incandescence and her lips parted in a silent scream.

- The storm raged with incessant fury in the skies above Camelot.

Mighty cracks of thunder threatened to rip apart the heavens as torrents of rain lashed down on the ramshackle dwellings and deserted streets.

- Arthur looked to the heavens.

It was going to be a long day.

(Source: "Poisoned Chalice", “The Death of Arthur” and “Lancelot and Guinevere” book)

Episode: Excalibur

Question: Uther says, “WHAT IN THE DEVIL'S NAME?” (referring to Black Knight)

Odd turn of phrase given the time period?

My thoughts 💭 : The devil is mentioned once again in “The Poisoned Chalice” book, when it talks about preparation being key and the devil was in the details.

Hell is also briefly referenced as a turn of phrase after Merlin sacrifices his life to save Arthur with the deal with Nimueh and believes he’s going to die.

Book description:

Preparation was key.

The devil was in the detail, so it was said. And just as a story had to be told with feeling, just as a song had to be sung from the heart, so the true power of a spell lay in more than the incantations and material ingredients.

- Suddenly a tumultuous clap of thunder broke his morbid thoughts and he leaped off the bed, his pulse racing, sound of surging blood in his ears.

What the hell was he doing?

This wasn't how he wanted to die, being afraid to live his last moments.

(Source: "Poisoned Chalice" and “The Death of Arthur” book)

[pep-the-artemis]

Thads Shindig

A Murder Drones Story Containing every named character+more (yes all ~50 of them, some never seen before, full cast list in tags)!

part 1.

word count - 4,448

Uzi - *playing a video game*

N - *entering*Hi Uzi… last week was… kinda wild.

Uzi - *unattentive*yep.

N - you know with the whole Eldritch J thing that was pretty insane, proms coming up which I guess is exciting. Because you know this story is set somewhere between episode 2 and 3.

Uzi - *still not listening*cool… Hey, I’ve got a second controller if you want to play video game with me.

N - you know I don’t like video game Uzi, plus we have to go soon.

Uzi - wait… go where?

N - well it's Thad’s shindig soon.

Uzi - oh cool, I’ll be heading offline in a minute anyway, this old hag—*reading username* SeaweedLoverXD has just been spawn camping me for the last half hour.

Nori - *over the mic* OLD HAG?

Uzi - *putting on headset*yeah, you virgin loser, you heard me!

Nori - Virgin?! Well I’ll have you know little miss Nobody, I am a mother of a darling daughter and if I ever caught her saying anything remotely similar to the insults you’ve been throwing my way I wouldn’t hesitate washing her mouth out with soap and water!

Uzi - whatever, die mad. *logs off*

*Meanwhile in a distant spaceship*

J - [you died idiot]

J - ughh, my head [Lost Memory Recovery Finished]... oh … oh! ... I liked that pen. 

J - *getting out of bed only to lose balance and collapse on the floor* … I’m okay! That was strange… My limb enhancements! Where are my limb enhancements?! *mad* Tessa! *pouting* Right now I bet I look like a common toaster! And why is it so dark? Are we conserving energy now?!

J - *walking through the spaceship arriving at a door labelled ‘Tessa. Knock first’*

J - *opening the door to a pitch black messy room,a pool of oil and blood pools out of the room*

Flesha - GET OUT!*throws Tessa’s helmet square at J cracking her visor slightly before slamming the door shut*

J - Tessa… I’m sorry.

Flesha - Learn to knock!

J - *picking up Tessa’s helmet* I think you dropped this.

Flesha - … *slowly opens the door slightly before lashing out and snatching the helmet quickly with a black tendril before retreating back into the room. Grotesque, bone cracking sounds follow*

J - …m,may I come in.

Tessa - sure, please mind the mess. I usually try to keep things clean but I guess you can say I haven't really been myself.

J - *entering* You know I’ve been reading some human literature and ‘arrogance and comedy’ are generally not considered a good coping mechanism.

Tessa - oh so you’re an expert on my well being are you?

J - your parents instructed me to protect you so yes!

Tessa - Well, look how that turned out! You’ve seen what's left of me, of what I become, I am a monster!

J - We’re all monsters Tessa, in our own way. I can see you're tired, I am here to grab my limb enhancers then I will be off.

Tessa - oh… yeah, I’ve been making modifications, it's still really buggy, they need more time though.

J - can’t I just borrow N's spare set? Been wondering what having feet feels like.

Tessa - no… I’ve been thinking, breaking into the Worker Drones commune is difficult, entering by force is doing little good and the plan to try and hack its main frame has only led to many complications.

J - you can code?

Tessa - nope. Like I said, complications. Anyhow, returning to the subject, right now no one could differentiate you from any other worker so you can head down and do some spy work… like James Bond and such.

J - do I have any say in this?

Tessa - nope.

J - *annoyed* then I’ll prepare my landing pod. *leaving* and Tessa, you shouldn’t just allow Cyn to walk over you…

Tessa - It's her body as much as mine and without it I would be dead.

*meanwhile, in the commune*

Doll - Мать. Отец. 

Doll - Ты будешь гордиться мной

Doll - Получите ответы �� освободите вас

Doll - Не волнуйтесь, чего бы это ни стоило,

Doll - я ухожу

Doll - И я клянусь прямо сейчас

Doll - Что бы не случилось со мной

Doll - Любой, кто встанет или встанет на моем пути, заплатит

Doll - Они... будут... платить

Lizzy - hey babe, quit praying to the corpses of your dead parents, we have a party to attend.

Doll - иду :3

*meanwhile deep underground*

V - *carrying a large pile of dead worker drones while being chased by a horde of Sentinels* oh RoboLord oh RoboLord oh RoboLord oh RoboLord oh RoboLord oh RoboLord oh RoboLord why did I agree to this! *runs through door and slams it shut*

Alice - hey looky here, another one of those slick murder drones.

V - *shoots her in the centre of her head*

Beau - O.O!!!!!

V - What are you looking at… well I had to kill her? That was a perfectly sane reaction to seeing someone that creepy!...*picking up Alice's dead body* hey, you seem pretty cool, want to join me, I’m heading to a party.

Beau - O.O…*réaliser qu'un refus peut signifier la mort* 👍

*meanwhile in the doorman home*

Uzi - come on N. How are you still not ready?!

N - I’m still doing my hair!

Uzi - well hurry up, we’re going to be late!

Khan - well where are you two kids heading off too?

Uzi - a party, it's cool kids only so obviously you’re not invited.

Khan - haha, on account of me not being a kid.

Uzi - sure. Let's go with that.

Khan - well, I hope you two kids have fun. Make sure you use protection.

Uzi - *blushing* DAD!!! What the robo-hell?!

Khan - What? I’m just saying there could still be some of those evil murder drones running around.

Uzi - oh |: 

Kahn - well, I best be heading off too, it's poker night at the defence force. *leaves*

N - hey Uzi, I’m ready… How do I look?

Uzi - *hiding her blushing* great, let's go!

*meanwhile outside the commune*

Reid - *searching around the snow*

J - *wearing a fake moustache*what are you doing here, don’t you know this is Disassembly Drone territory.

Reid - oh hi, i didn’t see you there… Wait, what's a Disassembly Drone?

J - …you misheard me… I said Murder Drones.

Reid - Well, if you have to know, I’m looking for my glasses, and I don’t think the Disassembly Drone will be any issue, after the redemption and all.

J - Well, I’m lost, do you mind helping me find my way to the commune.

Reid - I’ll show the way once I’ve found the glasses.

J - ughh, I will help you find your glasses.

*searching*

J - are these your glasses?

Reid - …no, how curious, I wonder who they belong to? 

J - don’t care *tosses Vs glasses away* lets just find your glasses quickly then we can be off.

*meanwhile in the distant spaceship*

Tessa - *meddling with Js new limb enhancers and optic sensors* What do you want? (I’m bored sister, may I go and play). Not now, I’m currently using the body, can it wait? (no)... does it have to be flesh (digital will be fine) very well. *she zips back part of her suit allowing for a long Absolute Tendril to rip out. From the tendrils eye, a projection emerges*

Cyn - Thanks big sister big smile.

Tessa - *soldering* I can't play right now, there's some lego in the cupboard over there.

Cyn - :3

Tessa - *thinking to herself*What is J doing?! How has she still not yet made it to the commune!

Cyn - *surrounded by lego*you think she might be a traitor.

Tessa - no.

Cyn - lying is silly big sister, I live in your mind and you live in mine.

Tessa - I know, you’re very clever.

Cyn - big grin.

Intercom - *video call incoming*

Tessa - behave yourself now Cyn *starts the call*

Lord Frumptlebucket - by Golly Tessa you baboon, JCJenson Corp has been up my ass all week because you haven’t been answering your calls? I want a mission status immediately.

Tessa - all is going well, we’re attempting a temporary alternative plan to gain intel.

Lord Frumptlebucket - well that's all and good but you need to keep the parent company informed and who is that… thing? She looks familiar.

Tessa - oh she, counter insurgency.

Lord Frumptlebucket - counter insurgency?!

Tessa - yes, I'm babysitting for the Worker Drones. If we can gain there favour, the genocide will be that much easier.

Lord Frumptlebucket - very good… By the gods of Santorini what the beggars fool is that thing protruding from your nave?!

Tessa - o.o!... *improvising*well, you see, you know how it is… during that time of the month… (:

Lord Frumptlebucket - *embarrassed*uh ummm, oh yeah of course i am aware of how… that works, sorry about that, I best be off.

Intercom - *video call ended*

Tessa - out of all the people you could have failed to kill at the Gala.

*meanwhile outside the commune*

Reid - haha! I found them.

J - great! *grabbing the Worker drone by the collar* we’re going now! And I just want to make it clear, I am no fan of small talk!

Reid - … noted

*walking*

Reid - aha, we’re here. *banging on the door*

Braxton - *partially opening the door* oh, it's you… and a random teen?

Ron - *from inside*Hey, that's my job?!

J - Teenager?!

Reid - yeah, do you mind letting us in?

Braxton - of course, by the way my name is

J - *angry* JUST OPEN THE DOOR! (calm yourself J. This is Tessa, I’ve connected myself to your systems, no one else can hear me)

*Door 1 opens up*

Makerov - I’m sorry, go fish.

Todd - actually, it's Gin Rummy.

Teacher - *taking a chug of alcohol* no. This is poker night, we’re playing 7-card stud.

Todd - yeah, I am, aren't I?

Ronathon - Surely you’re all foolish. This is Texas hold-em.

Khan - haha, silly me, I forgot to say Uno. Guess I have to pick up two cards now.

Sarah - silly Kahn, remember back in the day when Nori would forget then gaslight everyone into believing otherwise.

Unnamed Worker Drone - I don’t have a name ):

Tim - wait, what game are we playing?

Detective - It’s really easy to deduce the simple fact that you all are idiots and I’m never going to another poker night.

J - *under her breath*how have all these people survived so long?!*J leaves*

*meanwhile just outside Thad’s house*

Thad - hey Rebecca, thanks for helping me set up the decorations earlier, you’re really special you know that.

Rebecca - thanks *blushing*, it's really nothing.

*Lizzy and Doll arrive*

Lizzy - hey, what's she doing here?

Doll - Разве это мероприятие не "только для крутых ребят", а не "только для крутых ребят и неудачников"?

Lizzy - *fist bumps Doll*

Rebecca - I… I think I should go…

Thad - no, you stay. Don’t pay my sister any attention, if she bothers you tonight I will read notable passages of her diary to the whole school.

Lizzy - *blushing* you’re bluffing! There's no way you’ve found my secret diary!

Doll - под матрасом - не самое лучшее место для укрытия.

Lizzy - *blushing heavily*Who’s side are you on?!... ughh whatever! I’m gonna fix my makeup. *leaves to her room to find a new hiding spot for her diary*

*Uzi and N arriving*

Thad - Ndog, Uzi you’ve made it!

Uzi - we would have arrived earlier but someone had to fix their hair.

Thad - no worries. Come inside, the parties just started.

N - thanks.

*they enter*

Emily - so yeah, I walked into the bathroom after class and there was Darren and Rebecca doing the devil's work!

Braidon - I hope they both have a warranty, don’t want to get an ETV (Ethernet Transmitted Virus).

Trevor - wait! Darren cheated on me?!... excuse me, I’m going to cry somewhere more private. *leaves*

N - Hey Thad, what's under the tarpaulin?

Thad - don’t know, my sister just said it was important to make this party ‘extra special’.

N - I want to look under it. :D *looks under the tarp* o.o Uzi, can I borrow you for one sec. *pulls Uzi quickly to the side*

Uzi - hey, what the hell?!

N - umm, I don’t want to alarm you but there are a lot of dead bodies under that tarpaulin!

Uzi -o.o Robot or human?

N - ummm, both!

Uzi - O.O

*meanwhile outside Thad's house*

J - *walking down the corridor*this place is an utter maze, Tessa you’ve found a map yet (still working on it, be patient).

Lizzy - *walking the other way down the corridor holding a strange book* Come on,pick up your phone! Where is she? She said she’d be finished an hour ago! *bumps into J* Oh! Who are you?

J - I’m J…amie Jamie!

Lizzy - haven’t we met before?

J - … I don’t think so. *nervous smile*

Lizzy - Whatever, I don’t waste time with losers.

J - losers! I’m not a loser?!

Lizzy - you sure, what is that outfit? I’m sorry but pallbearer was so 2818.

J - You don’t have many friends do you?

Lizzy - ha, you wish. They all love me, as a friend or a fuck it doesn’t matter to me.

V - *jumping down from the vents carrying a large pile of corpses with Beau* hi sweetie, you’re ready?... Hey, *looking at J* Do I know you?

J - *sweating*nope!

Lizzy - this is my new pet, I’ve taken her under my wing you could say.

J - pet?! (don’t fight, go with it, don’t want to bring any more unneeded attention)

V - oh yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I've also brought a friend with me.

Beau - [Bonjour]

Lizzy - well, come on, let's make this night one they’ll never forget

*Meanwhile inside Thad's house*

Uzi - Thad! We think Lizzy is about to do something totally vile and ruin the party, we’re not sure yet but it involves what's under the tarpaulin.

Thad - of course my sisters are planning something! Hey DOLL!

Doll -*подходит к группе* Да?

Uzi - what's Lizzy planning? Lie and N will make you regret it!

Doll - *оглядывается на N*

N - *smiling and waving*

Doll - страшно, но я не знаю, что задумала Лиззи.

Uzi - what did I say about lying!

Doll - Я не лгу! Мне также нужно доказать, что я не верблюд?

Thad - …I don’t think Dolls lying.

N - so, if Dolls is not lying, then what's Lizzy planning?

*lights goes out. Spotlight hits Lizzy, V, Beau, and J*

Uzi - V! SHE ESCAPED! Everyone get down!

Lizzy - oh cram it what's your name.

Thad - I warned you sister about what would happen if you ruined my party!

Lizzy - I’m not ruining the party, I’m improving it, V remove the veil!

*V removes the veil*

Riley - that's so not the vibe!

J - what the robo-Jesus, this cannot be OSHA compliant?! (now this is getting interesting)

Lizzy - look, I’ve been very busy helping my daddy clean up the library when I came across this book *holds up the necronomicon* and now let's make this party more interesting. *begins chanting in latin as the book glows bright green*

N - Lizzy, I can’t let you commit zombie apocalypse! *chainsaw hands*

Thad - yeah, we can’t let this happen.

V - *tackles N to the ground*

Beau - *saute sur Thad*

J - I don’t know what's going on, don’t care; shortie, you’re so dead! *points fist at Uzi* hand cannon fire!… oh right |: *gets tackled to the floor by Uzi*.

Uzi - *after finishing up beating the life out of J* It's over Lizzy! *gets thrown across the room after being hit in the face by a table*

Doll - Не смейте трогать мою девушку!

Lizzy - *still chanting in latin while the anarchy ensues around*

Uzi - *recovering* so, you’re also meddling with the art of robo-satan.

Doll - У меня есть свои причины. Бог простит меня.

J - *standing back up and walking over to Uzi*Thanks for the assistance Dolly, but I can take it from here.

Uzi - *sucker punches J knocking her out instantly* I am not god!

*Meanwhile in the distance spaceship*

Intercom - *J-10X111001 Optics disconnected*

Tessa - What?! No! Reconnect!

Intercom - *reconnection failed*

Tessa - No! Again! Reconnect!

Intercom - *reconnection failed*

Tessa - Again!

Intercom - *Do I really have to keep doing this? Its not working*

Tessa - connect to N-0X0010010 optics!

Intercom - *connection failed*

Tessa - No! Connect to V-X00100000 optics!

Intercom - *connection failed*

Tessa - No! *hyperventilating* It's not true, I’m not powerless, I am in control, I’m not a failure!

*stress induced hallucinations.*

Louisa - Isn’t this just expected! A daughter, a fool and a failure; can she ever succeed at anything?!

James - now don’t fool yourself dear, our daughter no longer exists, what stands in front of us is a common stage freak. Not human, not human, neither.

Louisa - does she even still have a soul?!

Tessa - mother… father… please forgive me! Please… I am you daughter, I love you! I’m scared, the metal is cold and heavy, every day I feel it grow and I’m powerless… I fear someday there will be nothing left of me!

Maid N - Tessa! Don’t say those things.

Tessa - N?! You’re here?! With me… right now… is it really you?

Maid N - *debating if its moral to lie*… yes, I am here.

Louisa - again here you talking to your little graveyard freaks.

Maid V - we’re all here, we’re your friends remember.

Louisa - how dare you ignore me!

Maid J - and we won’t ever leave you.

Tessa - you won’t, leave me…but I’m a monster!

Maid J - aren’t we all?

Maid N - Tessa! We love you no matter who you are or who you may become. You’re not useless, you’re so amazing in so many ways and now you’ve been reborn, we’re closer than ever; you contain a part of me and I contain a part of you. It's almost as if we’re actually siblings now.

Tessa - do you promise?

Maid N - promise what?

Tessa - promise that you’ll never leave me!

Maid N - well what kind of brother would I be if I did?

Tessa - *crying painful tears of joy* Thank you… Cyn.

Cyn - *removes the holograms of maid N, V, J* you’re very clever.

Tessa - *big grin holding back more tears* I think I need a lie down for a bit. 

Tessa - *Picking up Cyn* Come on, you can play in my room.

*Meanwhile at Thad's house*

Lizzy - *floating of the ground still chanting*

Thad - I can’t believe I’m fighting a stupid lanky baby with a fashionable cowboys hat *bunts beau across the room like a rugby ball before running over to Lizzy*

Beau - [Sacrebleu!]

Doll - Не думайте, что я не могу справиться с двумя из вас сразу. *швыряет Тада об стену, используя магию решателя*

Sam - *high as a kite* he, that's what she said.

Uzi - you have to help us stop this Doll! The consequences are unimaginable!

Doll - позор.

Uzi - N! Come on you’ve beaten V before, just do it again.

N - *laughing his head off* I’m sorry, Uzi. Vs found my only weakness.

V - *viciously tickling N*

 Lizzy - compleatur ultima linea, incipiant maledictum et mortui surgant!

Uzi - Noooo!

*Blinding green light explosion. After a while, the smoke clears*

Uzi - *standing up* oww! O.o

*around them the dead corpses begin to arise*

Lizzy - … It worked?! I was just goofing around?!

Adam - Анастасия? 

Doll - отец!

(author note. Dolls father has no official name so I’ll just be calling him Adam for convenience, all other names are canon don't worry)

Adam - Моя маленькая девочка, совсем взрослая. Ты прекрасна.

Doll - ОТЕЦ! *крепко обнимает Адама, плача*

Yeva - Здравствуйте. Я тоже восстал из мертвых... как-то так!

Luna - Mi fa malissimo la testa, i miei sensi di lupo si stanno scatenando in questo momento!

Sofi - και πάλι Λούνα, δεν είσαι λύκος

Luna - I teriani sono perfettamente validi e io e il mio senso del lupo non saremo svergognati!

Loch - fìor! airson ro fhada tha sinn air a bhith gun riochdachadh gu leòr!

Mika - *テディベアを抱きしめている* もう寝ていい？

Amda - the last thing I remember, ugh my head hurts, I was dragging … then I… Then I died…

Alice - The last thing I remember was being shot in the head by that *points at V*

Yeva - Прости, девочка, но это не делает тебя особенной.

Beau - :D *huggin Alice*

Alice - don’t give me that look, much use you were.

Beau - *fixe Alice avec une expression qui dit "qu'est-ce que tu voulais que je fasse?!*

Jame - gosh I’m hungry, anyone got any food?

Thad - ummm… we have a buffet just over there…

Jame - don’t mind if I do.

Sofi - αυτό είναι το μόνο που μπορείς να σκεφτείς;

Jimi - what did you expect, Sofi. It's Jame, he would rip off his own jaw if it meant he could eat faster.

Sofi - Το ξέρω, αλλά το φαγητό είναι τόσο δυσάρεστο! Προσωπικά, αν μπορούσα, δεν θα έτρωγα ποτέ ξανά.

Luke -  Αδελφή, το έχουμε συζητήσει αυτό. Το φαγητό είναι σημαντικό, θα αρρωστήσετε αν δεν φάτε. Πες ό,τι θέλεις, οτιδήποτε, και θα το μαγειρέψω.

Sofi - Δεν νομίζω ότι αυτό είναι πραγματικά απαραίτητο.

Luke - Αν αυτό είναι που πρέπει να γίνει. Σημαίνεις πολλά για μένα, αδελφή!

Matt - Luke, my old buddy, give it a rest, if your old girl doesn’t want to eat, let her. She’s her own person, you can’t keep running around shepherding her like a baby lamb for the rest of her life.

Jordan - self harm is not a liberty. One cannot decide to cause themselves harm, that's cruel.

Jerad - I entirely disagree brother. To commit self-harm is indeed a personal liberty but it is also at the same its Luke’s personal liberty to do what's in his power  to  support his sister.  As long as he never physically forces her to eat, he’s done no wrong.

Jordan - have you not heard of coercion? You can infringe on a person's liberties (in this case by forcing them to eat) through vocal actions alone.

Doon - druid suas araon do bheul! Chan eil dragh air duine!

Armin - I personally thought their game of  back and forth was quite amusing.

Dean - oh shut your pretty lips Armin.

Mika - *ミカを抱いて* お邪魔してすみません、どこかに妹を寝かせられるソファかベッドはありませんか？

(Authors note - yes there are two Mika’s: 020 and 032)

Thad - We have a guest bedroom up the stairs, it's the second door on your left.

Mika - ありがとう、かわい子ちゃん。*���屋を出る*

Lizzy - this is amazing! I can’t wait to tell everyone on tumblr about this!

V - what is even happening?

Uzi - it seems Lizzy’s spell to bring back everyone had worked?!

N - that's cool but how?

Junior - *signing* could it be I was right? 

Uzi - right about what exactly?

Junior - *signing* my studies into the arcane, I believed it possible one could bring back the dead but I never dared test it.

Uzi - well, it seems it worked?!

אני לא מאמין. אני כל כך מצטער חבר שלעג לך כל השנים האלה. - nadroJ

(Author's note. Yes, there's also two Jordans: 015 and 091)

Junior - *signing* it's ok. I forgive you.

Mick - well, I don’t want to be that guy but it does seem that  it wasn’t  100% successful. *gently kicking J’s body*

Doll - Думаю, она просто немного устала.

V - tuckered out one could say.

Uzi - yeah, I’m sure there's nothing to worry about this  nice stranger.

N - I don’t think she's 100%, look at her visor, it's badly cracked.

Uzi - why don’t you lick it?

N - why would I do that?

Uzi - you spit healed the hole in my palm remember.

N - oh, why do I have to do it? Why can’t V.

V - If I lick her I might get tempted and just take a bite :3! Plus you’re the one with the licking obsession, don’t think I haven’t forgotten.

N - I'm still not doing it. I’m sure she will be fine with a lightly cracked visor for now.

V - buzzkill.

*meanwhile*

Nori - Анастасия, я думаю, мы хотели бы познакомить вас кое с кем. Это Неда, ваш дядя.

Neda - Привет, Анастасия, я знаю, что это клише, но ты действительно очень похожа на мою сестру.

Doll - Я ожидал, что ты будешь выше.

Neda - *падает на пол от стыда* 

Ahbi - *नेदा को सांत्वना देते हुए* यह ठीक है प्रिये. मुझे लगता है कि आपकी लंबाई एकदम सही है।

Mick - yeah, it's not entirely your fault you’re a shortstack and a disappointing uncle.

Kang - *扇了米克一巴掌*

Carl - O: Kang! Gewalt ist nie die Antwort!

Kang - …

Carl - ... außer wenn ich es tue… (:

هذا المنطق غبي، يمكنك بالطبع أن تثق بأنني على حق. أنا رقم واحد والأفضل. - attA

Jweb - don’t be a narcissist.

اصمت، اسمك ليس اسماً حقيقياً حتى. -  attA

Jweb - *cries and runs over to Ezra*

מה לא בסדר. האם אתה רוצה לדבר על זה. - arzE

Nath - *एक मेज पर खड़ा हूँ* भाइयो और बहनो।

Dirg - *जोर से खांसी होना*

Nath - क्षमा माँगना। भाइयों, बहनों, और गैर-बाइनरी मित्र। अब जब हम सभी ने अपना परिचय दे दिया है, तो मुझे लगता है कि हमें ठीक से पता लगाने की जरूरत है कि क्या हुआ और इसके निहितार्थ क्या हैं।

Dirg - मैं प्रतिनिधित्व की सराहना करता हूं लेकिन मैं यह स्पष्ट करना चाहता था कि मैं वास्तव में खांस रहा था और अशिष्टतापूर्वक हस्तक्षेप नहीं कर रहा था। मुझे बुरी एलर्जी है.

Uzi - yeah, they’re right. So, unless I’m mistaken, what I currently know is that Lizzy read from a book (possibly created by Junior) and brought you all to life… but who are you all?

Sofi - είμαστε τα πειραματόζωα. Μας παίρνουν οι άνθρωποι, μας δίνουν ταυτότητες, μας δοκιμάζουν… και μετά μας αφήνουν να πεθάνουμε.

Jordan - It seems we’re all here now except for Sarah and Nori… fortunately.

Jerad - and Giam *gets hit in the head by a chair moving at high speed*

*everyone turning their head*

Alice - sorry, thought i say a bug (:

Uzi - Nori?! You knew my mother?!

Jordan - you’re Nori’s daughter… I thought you looked familiarly short.

Lizzy - ughh, this is so boring, this is supposed to be a party, you can go over the lore implications later. *turns on the music* Let's dance!

*meanwhile*

Nori - *говорит с Лиззи* Могу я взять твою книгу

Lizzy - sure whatever.

Nori - Спасибо. *Нори использует магию, чтобы заставить книгу подняться, а затем произносит сложное заклинание, объединяющее ее и магию книги.*

Mitchell - GUHHH!!! I'm! I'm Alive! *looking around* you? you saved me.

Dr Ridley - did, did we die... I can't believe it... the implications are immense. thanks for bringing me back to life!

Nori - Я вернул вас случайно, доктор. *поворачивается к Митчеллу* Это благодарность за то, что спасли мне жизнь.

Mitchell - what now.

Nori - Я не знаю… наслаждайтесь вечеринкой, я думаю.

*some time later when the party is well underway*

J - [System reboot complete]  ughh, my head [Lost Memory Recovery Finished]... oh … oh! ... AGAIN?! Tessa, are you there? (Tessa’s not here right now) oh great (need help?) nevermind… I guess I have to start socialising.

Luna - Awoo. La strana ragazza baffuta si svegliò.

J - oh hi… ummm have you read any interesting safety manuals recently?

Luna - *Stupito dalla ragazza e non in senso gay, in senso negativo* Credo che i miei sensi di lupo mi stiano dicendo di andare... altrove.

J - oh ok… bye (You’re really bad at this) not that you’re much better (I’m a child but I know someone who is) yeah I know… wait what?! [uploading secondary consciousness] WHAT STOP NO!

Katie (possessing J’s body) - huAA, where am I (at a party) who said that (don’t worry), are you my squip? (... sure, I want you to socialise like a normal person) ok, I can do that.

[bluginkgo]

Quick announcement (before the diarrhea of information):

I'm gonna go on a semi-hiatus for a week or so. I'll still be around, just not posting any drawings. Need to replenish my energy and drawing reserves cause I'm dead >_<

Sleep behind scenes!

So... Ginkgo why the hell did this take you so long? Sorry, sorry 😅 Here's what happened. I got burned out after like 10 pages (specifically the manor backgrounds killed me, plus having the full gang in the story) and then got sick and was not feeling all that great. Working through the burn out, sick, AND college work on top was quite hard not gonna lie though, but I wanted to finish it ^^

Alright, now as for little unnecessary Easter eggs, I added as nods to the show and my other interests. ^_^

1. Undertale save point. Undertale had me sucked in for a good long while, and for some odd reason decided to re-emerge in a form of the star save. Made it purple for Uzi's effect over N. She made him more rebellious, so he started to question why is it his memories and dreams are strange/corrupted/missing instead of just going with the flow.

2. Ep3 nod. V and N have history, history that I wish we get to see. V was nicer, kinder, in my opinion, prior to the absolute solver going rampage. So it makes sense for them to have some sort of friendship at the VERY least. So I decides to give it a small spin to it too. A direct quote from ep3 ^_^

3. Ep 2 + 5 nod. I kinda pulled the moment when James dismissed N from ep2 together with events that follow after N leaves library in ep5. Chronologically, these events don't fit together, seeing as ep2 is when N first meets Cyn and ep5 is when she's already set up the massacre. But this is exactly what I was going for. N's memories are jumbled at best, so I took liberty in mixing, matching, and editing his memories just as the admin program would probably.

4. Absolute Solver symbols nod. My chats with @absolute-solver (sorry for annoying you with tag 😅) made me realize that the absolute solver ought to have more presence now. It's activated and running systems in the background for Uzi. Whiiiiich means that drawing absolute solver should start now. BUT, it's rudimentary at best. Symbols don't really make sense and are not completed for most of the time. Not until Uzi at least sees the error message in ep2, when she truly starts questioning what that weird symbol on her visor is. I headcanon that N does know or at least feel that the absolute solver symbol is familiar, hence the little comment.

5. Absolute Solver Nori. Why is there so many absolute solver Nori around? I'm certain she went back to normal, just like in pictures Khan showed us in ep4 post core collapse. But I connected the solvers together here. Uzi's absolute solver string is up and running, and because the solver is a hivemind, it'd connect the memories and warp them a little. So that's why Uzi's doodle of her and Nori at the end (and during memory recall) was so full of absolute solver. It's slowly taking root, whether she wants it to or not.

Personal touches/added/cut ideas:

N's tail wrapping around Uzi like a hug. Originally, Uzi was supposed to look more nervous, but not for the reasons you might think. I cut the nervous look to a more upset look so it wouldn't be confused for fear. Uzi's never scared of N (yes, I don't count ep2 either, that was a lot of events at once and very little time to process them). The nervous look was more of a "Why are you butting in?" type, you know? Being a loner makes you cautious, so when N prods at feelings, I figured Uzi would be a bit defensive.

Cyn is fully rendered and yet I glitched her so much I felt bad. So here's full absolute solver Cyn eldrich monster thingy. ^_^

I pulled a Hazbin hotel moment. Did you see it? Abracadabra GONE! All the scraps from first couple pages with NUzi chatting POOFED out of the existence. Did I get lazy and tired? Yes, that was the tell tale sign of burn out, when I stopped keeping track of background details and just kept the pod.

These progress shots show pretty well how the story boarding goes and how I change my mind too easily. 😅 storyboard is still as much of a mess as ever, sketch shows you I was gonna keep Uzi's hat, but decided against it in final product. I figured this. Nori gave Uzi the jacket whenever Uzi got a bigger body + hair. These are the same jacket and hair Uzi has in canon. Uzi's body is just upgraded again and her hair gets shorter in that regard. The jacket would be big on her, and cover her hands, but what's up with the fluff if I draw canon jacket more spiky? And where's the death battery drawing? I headcanon Uzi drew those on once she got into the angsty teenager stage. The jacket is more spiky from wear and tear.

Fun fact! You can sorta tell who's gonna show up in the comic by what memes I post prior. Here's some examples ^_^ Cyn showed up, and that was first practice with maid outfits and Cyn's eldrich form. Closely followed by manor gang, the second/final form of maid and butler outfits and prime practice for those scenes. This example is a bit spoiler for a meme I'm working on right now! I've never drawn Nori before, so I quickly sketched out the idea and continued on with the comic (otherwise, I'd lose my steam and procrastinate on it again). Memes are filler for you guys while I work on the actual projects (comics), and along the way, they give me practice and change in drawing style ^_^

Is it a coincidence that this comic is called Sleep with the release of a certain horror game? Actually, yeah pure coincidence 😅 I had this drafted allll the way back in November, and didn't take particular interest in poppy playtime until I saw lanky boi, which was actually during a stream I watched on release day of the chapter.

(I didn't know tumblr, or at least the phone app, had a tag limit of 30, BOY was I surprised @brookiedaaroacecookie that must have been THE tag city, sorry 😅)

Next comic is Loneliness 1 and 2

This one is split into 2 POVs from both Uzi and N side, thus its 2 separate comics. That one will be more NUzi centered, too, a slight angst and comfort spin to it. That will come... sometime. I have a few more projects I wanna finish up with prior to starting on these guys ^_^

Why are you still reading this? Omg, have a cookie 🍪 you made it. Have a nice day now ^_^

[duckies27]

@demis-alted , the man asked to be tagged so you better not complain if tears come

~~Spoilers for Episode 37 of Grotethe~~

Trigger warning: slight suicidal thoughts? Maybe?

He went in as a joke. Of course he did, he would never actually go into a coffin without just being silly. After Carol, after everything, it has been so hard to have a genuine smile. His neck still burned from the arrows, his body still weak from the blood lost. But now that he was in it, it felt like home.

He couldn't explain it, it just...felt right. Maybe it was the thoughts growing stronger, the will to live just gone from his body, he wasn't sure, not anymore. It strangely took all of his energy to push back out.

Make it jokey Haney, you have to make it funny.

Of course, on his way out, he stepped on a nail. Pain shot through his body, the last 1 hp he had drained in a moment. Chip fell limp on the ground, his mind in Limbo. Everything felt warm. He could almost feel her hands reaching for him.

Meanwhile, Ellga was panicking. Ever since Carol had died, she had been feeling a lot of emotions she wasn't used to. This was one of them. They were already pushing their luck with being here, she couldn't remember her way back to her own house, and worse of all

HER BASICALLY FATHER IS DEAD KN THE FLOOR!

The vampire ran her hands across his neck, feeling no shallow breathing or heartbeat. Her eyes darted to Barney. They may have been butting heads, but he had spells that could save Chip, save him from his own stupidity. "Barney! You have to heal him!" Her voice cracked, tears briming in her eyes as she gripped the stupid shoodie she had made fun of silently for the past few weeks. She had never left her home after being turned, she knew nothing but riches and safety. Here, she was treated like her own person, with people who cared so much about her, enough to stick with her even after finding out she was a horrible monster. She had found genuine friends and even family.

She started to shake Chip harder. "Come beck!!! Come beck!!!" Her voice was shrill, the tears starting to roll down her cheeks. Last time she cried was during the turning process.

But she didn't want to think about that.

Barney gently pushed Ellga to Mathide, pulling out the book that now everyone recognized. It was the one thing he had, the one thing he could remember. His wrinkled hand reached out to gently touch Chip's shoulder as he muttered a spell.

"Chip....honey..."

"I'm coming Carol... don't wait for me..." He weakly muttered, only making Ellga cry harder as she shoved her face into Mathide's plumage.

"Chip, it isn't your time. You have to be there for them."

Before Chip could even fight, he suddenly shot up with a pained gasp. 5 hp, given by Barney of all people. As the cleric got up, he gave the same gift to Mathide, who rattled off some joke.

Everything was fuzzy, he didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be here, he wanted to be with Carol, this life held nothing fo-

His thoughts cut off as Ellga gripped onto him and weakly sobbed. This wasn't normal for her, tears or the hugging. He scooped her into his lap, gently rubbing her back. It's not his time...maybe because of her. He hadn't met the count yet, but Ellga had hooked onto him rather easily. Maybe he needed to stay to be her support, to be her father when she needed it most.

He'll stay for now. He kept her held as he stood, calming her down slowly just as his mother used to. "I'm alright, just a little stupid."

She hit his horn, but very gently. "Very stupid. Now put me down." When Chip set her to the ground, she gripped his hand for dear life, but wiped her remaining tears.

"Let's keep going. We still have a reason to be here."

[imaginesofeverykind]

Witches Brew ~ Chapter 4

Summary: To practice magic is to slight God with the devil's embrace. It is evil, sin, consuming and the price one pays is never worth what one seeks. Yet people, in times of desperation often turn to desperate measures, in Aegon’s case, medicinal remedy is not an option. No healer can undo what has been done. But the Hag tucked away behind reeds, water topped with algae and the voracious bog may be able to. For a price.

Warnings: Blood and Gore, Character Death, catholic-centric monotheism demonised

Tags: DnD Fusion AU, Targaryens are noblefolk, Aegon is a werewolf.

Word Count: 6.1k

Chapter Song: ‘O’Death’ Theme (Until Dawn Soundtrack) - Jeff Grace, Amy Van Roekel

SORRY THIS IS TWO WEEKS LATE !!! I literally got slammed at work two weeks in a row, i did so much OT and im SORRY but here she is yall :’(((((

Series Masterlist

You’re Back. The void bringing a sense of unnerving, and much like it had been the previous time — overstimulated the senses tenfold like a barrage of everything all at once. You move, but there is no feeling of your legs carrying you, just that you have moved from point to point with no memory of getting there. It was a more disorienting form of how you materialize from one place to the other, except in the prime realm you knew where you were going.

Here, there was nothing to determine a position or place other than the faint sense of knowing you weren’t in the same place. A droning of magical song ebbs and flows, louder or softer depending on whichever direction you appear to be going. Perhaps spirits are reaching out or even the Gods, faintly you recall Auntie speaking in hushed whispers whenever she reached out to Syrrelio, God of Blood, and think for a moment that this may be his domain.

Though you wait, there is no voice calling from the great beyond, no divine message flowing through you or even a presence to indicate a greater celestial presence. There was something, however. A beacon of warmth beckoning you in the void, barely detectable but the heat was like being in close proximity of a large fire during a winter blizzard.

Finally, the small glimmer of light sparkles like a flare against the abyssal backdrop of pitch black darkness. At first you think your eyes are playing tricks on you, but it flickers again and there is an instant and urgent pull to go to whatever has your attention. An exit from this madness? Maybe so, but it was an answer you would not get this visit.

A violent and abrupt flash of light from the sun’s spotty beams cutting through the trees of the kitchen window jerk you back to the prime realm. There is a moment of utter confusion as you take in the surroundings with care, the hut remains in tact and in normal shabby condition, but the cause of confusion is that you are standing over the table with a sprig of dried Goodberry clutched in your hands hovering over the Mortar and Pestle.

Strange.

These… episodes… weren’t something brought on by sleeping it seemed. They were involuntary, like someone - or better yet - something was trying to send a message. It was only slightly unnerving to say the least, but shakily you continued on creating the healing brew like you weren’t just psychically accosted by an unseen force or entity.

The days were short but slowly dragged on a little later each day, now that Dead Winter’s Day had been to pass. Snow was still falling in excess, marking a relatively relentless bitter winter as the trees of the swamp withered and the bottle brush shrubs discoloured from frostburn. It wasn’t just the cold that swept through the dreary feeling across the swamp, you could sense that despite restoring Ornmirs shrine it had not settled the spirit.

Her unstable energy seemed to entice more malevolent creatures to the area, Stirges were now the least of your problems.

Your current problem required more attention — this evenings full moon was a mere few hours away judging by the soft sweeping darkness encasing the swamp and Aegon was yet to arrive. Since he started coming to see you he had been relatively punctual, often arriving midday at the earliest or mid-afternoon at the latest but never this close to dark.

It deeply concerned you, more than expected and it only slightly embarrassed you. The deep inner voices within your mind were at a battle, one half expressing urgent distress and beckoning to go and investigate, the other half was trying its best to reason and that there was nothing to worry about.

Today, it seemed, anxiety was much louder than reason. That paired with the unpleasant feeling that twisted inside your gut was reason enough for you to throw on your cloak and disappear into nothing, appearing back in reality inside the Fortress that overlooked Oldtown. He’d be beside himself if he hurt anyone, is what you tell yourself to not feel flustered and to justify why you’re going to him. Deep down you know he cared little for those inside the stony fort, only his siblings had the privilege.

Your hood concealed a great deal of your face and the cloak hid the rest of your attire, aware that you didn’t exactly look like the typical local roaming. It was disturbingly quiet which was odd enough considering it was renowned for housing belligerently loud swordsmen and knights.

And yet, as you cross the courtyard with a purpose it was as quiet as a chapel. Your eyes scanned the few people, some were holy men, some were servants and others were simple folk or traders but not a single notable individual in sight. Time was not on your side, as you give the darkening sky a despondent look before quickly making haste to the West Wing of the building.

Living quarters were located within the West Wing and if Aegon had any sense, he’d have locked himself in his room lest he be set loose to attack any ignorant wanderer. The lack of people around may have been a blessing in disguise, making things easier to lurk around without fear of being caught.

Most of the holy men were headed to the East Wing, where you had to assume the inbuilt chapel was since for the last three corridors you only passed servants who looked at you with curious glances but said nothing or alerted anyone. This corridor in particular inlaid carved stone, a garish green rug trailed from end to end with golden accents and the holy symbol of their false god reminded you how much you despised their religion.

The thought had barely registered in your head, softly stepping on the carpet and past a door that was half open.

”— and what of Aegon?”

Hearing his name pricked your ears and forced you to come to a stop, the voice was raspy, struggling to speak and airy. Viserys, was the first thought that came to your head, shocked slightly at how quickly he sounded to be deteriorating. You lean against the carvings that lined the door, not caring to look up and inspect whatever lavish artistry has been wasted on accenting what amounted to a door hole.

“If I may speak plainly, my Lord… Aegon… he is a sinner.” Another voice, older but more confident. A priest. You think, a holy devoted man. “He has been unfit to take over long before you became ill, you must know this, your Lady wife knows this.”

Your eyes flicker to the window, the sky darkening with each moment, you have little time to waste but find it difficult to step off from the wall you leant against, wanting to hear what was being said while Aegon was absent. From the stories he has vaguely revealed, you piece together that this can’t be very pleasant —.

”—Devil work is at play, are we to ignore what Ser Criston reported back… The hag of the swamp may be gone but she has left a younger in her stead. A younger, might I add that Aegon has been seen visiting every month.” A stern female voice snapped imperiously, ah, you stop to focus, Alicent.

“There is no charge, no proof, we can’t simply abscond the witchling or trial her.” The priest grew weary by the sounds of things. This discussion had been happening for a long while before you happened to stop by and eavesdrop. “Though… we may still be able to help Aegon. A procedure a higher devout can perform, through the word of God, to banish any and all devils that possess a human.”

The silence was thick, almost as though there was a fourth person speaking amongst the three until it was broken, “send one of the stablemen to Durrenden, I want Aegon back here tonight for the procedure. I also want Ser Criston sent to the swamp bitches abode and have her apprehended for maleficium, devil craft, seduction and heresy. She has poisoned my son long enough, I want her burnt in the square.”

A threat against your very being didn’t seem to spark fear within you like it should have, it had quite distinctly the opposite effect, a giddy smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. You’d never been a part of a witch hunt before and it sounded rather exhilarating.

“She is right, I will not have another of my children marr this house with shame. Do what must be done,” Viserys weary and tired seemed to want to put an end to the conversation - or arguing - you weren’t entirely sure.

You make a face, once again feeling that you should be fearful or somewhat scared but instead find the ordeal quite amusing. Mayhaps the confidence in Lady Alicents imperious tone about your persecution was what tickled at your humour. Auntie was sure to have cackled if she were present, but the nagging feeling stirring within drew your smirk down to a thin line.

Aegon could not be taken tonight, that was of utmost importance — The nebulous ‘procedure’ the holy man spoke of did well to cause unease within, if anything about this religion was clear is that many of this belief did horrendous acts to justify and uplift their false idol.

Durrenden. The small village southwest of Oldtown, bordering the edge of the swamp was all you seemed to know of it, not being the one you occasionally pass through for fresh produce. But Alicent’s comment on sending their Holy Knight there gave answer to why the Fortress was so barren of life, as to why Aegon and the swordsmen were down there, remained a mystery.

With little time left you close into yourself, disappearing within a blink and reappearing on the outer edges of the swamp. Durrenden a short walk, silhouetted by the sun that had begun descending behind it, haloing golden edges around the small huts and buildings. Temporary battlements had been set up, tents scattered close to the town's walls and many swordsmen wearing the insignia of their God.

One might think they were ready for war, though you had no time to ask or answer hypotheticals inside your head. Time was running low if the colour of the sky was any indication. Hurried in stride and purposeful with your steps, Durrenden surrounded you quickly with its townsfolk sneering and occasional swordsman wearily casting gazes. None of the strangers blurring past you had violet eyes nor silver locks of hair which caused unsteady panic to brew within, there was a small voice in the back of your mind that cast doubt. What if he was already at the hut? Perhaps he snuck away without anyone seeing him, but the surplus of men and eyes around indicated that the task may be unfeasible.

The steady stream of armored men flowing to and from the village tavern served as a good starting point, remembering Aegon mentioning that he’d sneak into the Howling Keep (a poor mans tavern) in Oldtown. The naming convention humoured you greatly at the time, though Aegon grimaced and looked at you with a deadpan expression.

You push open the Oak doors, not caring for the two patrons you cut off by doing so causing a slight commotion. Everyone within turned their heads and fell silent once their gaze fell on you — from head to toe not a single thing about the attire you adorned or markings drawn into your skin indicated you were a commoner or local.

Scanning the room, your eyes fell on a pair of violet ones, familiar but not Aegon’s. They were deeper violet, one slightly off colour and colder, narrowed down to a cautious glare. Aemond. Dressed in dark leathers, chain mail glinting from beneath the studded black vest with a different insignia. Not a symbol of their God but a house crest. A Three-Headed Dragon.

“Where is he?” You demand, disregarding all others in the tavern, speaking to him as though you were the only two in the room.

He is still for a moment, though you aren’t able to decipher if he’s wanting to argue back or is merely conflicted in aiding you. As far as you were aware he had at least a vague idea of what occurred on full moons, and must know that was the reason for your intrusion. Yet, he hesitates.

Two swordsmen step forward before he holds a hand out and dismisses them, there is a soft grumble in displeasure while he strides toward you. He brushes past you, heading back out the way you came, and you follow quietly behind him. Many of the locals and swordsmen watch with attentiveness, judgment passing through their cold glares as if you were on your way to lead Aemond to eternal damnation right before their eyes.

Neither of you exchange discussion as there was little need to do so, yet the question of why Lord Targaryen’s men were out in Durrenden as though an invasion was due hung at the tip of your tongue. It never passes your lips, even as he leads you to one of the larger tents, the same house crest embroidered on the tent door.

Inside, unlike sleeping quarters like you anticipated to see, there sat a large cage manned by a single guard. Within it, Aegon sat slumped against one of the bars in some type of drunken stupor though his pained groans carried to your ears instantly. The cage is far too large for something like a lycanthrope, your first thought followed by, they’re going after Ornmir.

Your question was finally answered but there was much too little time to reprimand Aemond and the men of the battalion. In a quick sweep, you fade from beside the younger brother and appear beside Aegon who hadn’t quite processed your arrival just yet. “Apologies, we must make haste — I don’t have time to explain,” your voice is softer than you expected, voice cradling him as though he were an injured animal.

He looks up at you, eyes half lidded but attentive when they search your face. Sweat beaded down his forehead, down past his flushed cheeks, “bumble,” he whispers in a drunken slur and it takes you a moment to realize he is addressing you.

“I’ve nothing to give for the pain,” you fumble with the pouch on your belt before gently placing a hand at the base of his neck to cradle his head and the other to grip his arm tightly. You cast a pointed look at Aemond before your surroundings fade away, no longer encaged and inside a tent but now surrounded by dozens of trees on an old faded trail. The furthest south of the Swamp, knowing it was too risky to return to the hut.

It seemed as though you had mere minutes to spare, the sky no longer streaked with orange and yellow, completely covered in darkness with the moon rising over the horizon.

***

Faint mildew and damp earth fill your nostrils as you awaken, there is initial panic when your eyes fly open to surroundings that weren’t the decrepit interior of your abode. Condensation dripping from rocky walls subtly glimmering in the flickering light of a waning lantern, you are reminded where you have taken temporary refuge.

Everywhere ached, the muscles around your shoulders and neck yearned for some tension release while your legs felt stiff from a night of keeping the wolf entertained. Surprisingly, Aegon being inebriated hadn’t done much to effect the transformation or behaviour from your observations aside from a comment he made after dawn broke and he laid on the swamp ground, chest rising and falling after shakily becoming normal again.

“My fucking head,” was all he groaned before promptly passing out. A massacred hand resting atop his forehead as though that would do much to alleviate his pain.

Now, his breaths were simple and consistent like any other noise within the deep cave you chose as sanctuary. His head rested on your lap for lack of a proper bed for him to rest and gain some strength back — at least that's what you tell yourself. Nevermind you are aimlessly combing fingers through his hair, detangling the ends riddled with sweat and blood.

It must have been mid afternoon when he stirred awake, eyes fluttering open to take in the surroundings. You had half expected him to sleep for the entire day and well into the night, looking down on him you offer a smile in the dimly lit cave. A flourish of one hand and murmur an incantation, materialising four orbs of light that float nearby to brighten the area.

“You came for me,” He croaks, voice crackly no doubt from straining it the night prior, turning his head in your lap to look up at you. The first thing he says is not to question where you had taken him, he trusted you without question and this statement wasn’t lost on you whatsoever.

There was something very innocent in the moment and perhaps it had been the fact you were still raking fingers through his hair despite it had long been detangled.

Casting your gaze downward it was becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore the feelings that stirred within, no matter how hard you tried to reason that it was something else entirely. You cared for him. The revelation should not be one that is shocking, half a year in tending to him would indicate this truth and yet it still shook you to the core.

Loneliness was a bitter thing, you had plenty of loneliness over the course of your life that it seem only fair to rid yourself of it.

”An unfortunate twist in fate has me caring for you, it seems,” you admit dryly, feeling lighter and less wound up upon saying the words aloud. “A most ill-fated outcome considering it is I who put this burden on you.” A sardonic smile mocking your own misfortune, of course it would be fated that the cure to loneliness would be in the form of a man you had inflicted a most painful blight upon.

He is silent for a moment, so still that you'd have thought he fell back asleep if it weren’t for his attentive violet eyes looking up at you, he finally says, “I tried to leave them at the road before Durrenden — They wouldn’t let me.”

”So they encaged you?”

“No,” he smiles meekly, “that was after I stole two carafes of wine from our reserve.” A flash of something must have passed through him causing the corners of his lips drop, eyes suddenly dimming with resignation as he looks away for the first time, “I thought if I was too drunk to feel anything I wouldn’t be in pain.”

Stupid. You admonish silently, but your chest tugs at the words of a man who simply wishes for the pain to fade. It was the first time you considered that he isn’t just talking about the pain of transformation. Without jostling him around too much, you reach into the small pouch off to the side and pull out a small phial, the best you can offer considering you weren’t in the hut.

After passing it over to him wordlessly you sigh and look around the cave, “your family’s Knight was sent to fetch you, the holy man mentioned to your mother a procedure to ‘purge you of sin’.”

”You went to the castle?” He asks, sitting up as though he were startled by the notion. Wincing at the sudden movement, he steadied himself on the wall beside you. At some point between your fated first meeting and now, he stopped complaining or questioning whenever you handed him things to consume. Since there was little resistance when you handed him a small bottle of sanguine liquid.

”To look for you,” a simple answer and yet it still caused your stomach to flutter, “your mother seems to be of the belief I have corrupted you with devil work… I wasn’t aware she was so… pious.” As amusing as a witch hunt sounded to you yesterday, it felt more cumbersome in reality and you had only really been forced into hiding for a mere day.

Your words struck him as amusing, a dry laugh falling from his cracked lips and you curse yourself for not thinking to get water amongst the hubbub of yesterday. “In the bigger picture, you have done little to push me into the devil’s clutches, my lady.” He addresses you, as if a highborn and not a witch of the woods or at the very least; a Commoner. The phrase catches you by surprise, so much so there is a physical reaction akin to a slight recoil. It sounded foreign to hear it, but you didn’t hate it.

A connection in your head seems to click, instantaneously dismissing what you were going to say about what he called you and in comes a flood of thoughts so incredibly obvious that you are almost ashamed to say anything about it now. But, your mouth moves much quicker than your mind and a sharp, “oh gods,” falls from your lips.

He stares at you, looking embarrassed as if you were lambasting his choice of words but that couldn’t be further from the truth. “I might — well it is possible to relieve you of this curse but the chances may not be in our favour.” It wasn’t some magical cure out of nowhere and it wasn’t without risks involved but if done right it could be done.

There’s confusion etched into his facial features, for that you couldn’t blame him, “but this is a blood curse —,”

”It is not a cure, per se…” Trying to find the words seemed difficult, especially ones that wouldn’t be insensitive, “if you recall this ailment was imparted onto Aemond and I moved the curse. Blood curses attach themselves to the essence of a person which is why they can be moved to family members — which is why I could rid him of it.”

”Be that I dislike my brother, I do not wish for him to suffer monthly —“

“Sibling blood is closer entwined than other familial relatives but much like I restored Aemonds eye, I could attempt to move the curse to someone else… someone who is already on the cusp of death.” It would be all too easy to say his name aloud, but there was a part within your aware conscience that felt it rather evil for suggesting second hand patricide.

Though you needn’t say his name, Aegon understood wholeheartedly, “Viserys.” Not ‘Father’, not a hint of endearing or love in his tone. The relationship between father and son had long severed before you had waylaid the noble family with magic interference all those months ago. It may have not been your intent to send the Lord to an early grave, the fates seemed to have planned for it anyway.

You just hoped they planned for him to suffer one last time.

There was an already inherent distaste for the man, one that was imparted to you from Aunties bias but it only increased tenfold when Aegon would regale you with stories of how absent and horrible of a man Viserys seemed despite the public opinion being otherwise. How does a man have five children and only care for one? Even for that one child, the care presents as thinly veiled kindness at best from what you’ve heard.

He mulls over the idea, you can sense his hesitancy to answer and it is something you don’t hold over him considering what you are suggesting could be coercive murder in the eyes of the church.

“Forgive me, if I spoke out of turn.” You say softly, smiling at him as if silently understanding the conflict within him. If anyone had been present to hear such blasphemy you were most definitely not avoiding the accusations of being a harbinger of chaos and devil whisperer.

”No,” he shook his head, there was uncertainty in whether he was denying your suggestion or if he disagreed that you’d stepped over a line. Even you were self aware enough of how bad it sounded, but over the course of half a year the two of you seemed to slowly understand the inner machinations of one another enough to know when something was laced with malicious intent or not. While he understood to a degree your distrust and ire toward the head of his family, he has never had reason to believe that you worked with an ulterior motive. Initially, perhaps, but now? No.

”I want to say yes,” he begins, a pained look within his eyes laden with guilt, “but what option remains for me? I am his eldest son. He is destined to pass, sure. But my path lay already ahead of me. To become Lord of the city regardless of if I’m afflicted by a curse or not. This —,” he gestures to himself, riddled with grime and filth, “— this is physical pain but no matter my options I will suffer.”

The strain in his voice gave quite a clear indication that he was hesitant to be so vulnerable, not for a lack of trust, it seemed as though the cause for his trepidation simply grew from a lack of someone around to listen to his complaints. You tactfully reach over and clasp his hand. Entwined it was easy to see how the dirt and muck complimented one another on each hand with wayward splatters and streaks like paintings on parchment.

He seldom spoke of duty, opting to spit in the face of it whenever the topic broached but you knew what lay ahead of him when the inevitable arrival of death comes to consume Viserys. A strange custom, you noted. Many families had long abandoned succession through eldest offspring, a handful of Lords (Targaryens included) seemed to keep the tradition, whether it be in honour of tradition or it aligned religiously though you were unsure of.

To be a Lord and be ailed with something as unforgiving as Lycanthropy would become harder to hide, a bigger burden, one that would turn the devout folk on him in an instant. Public opinion on the man beside you, already sat lower than the other siblings, in a cruel string of fate it almost feels as though he were destined to fail.

“But you are second to oldest, what of your sister?” You ask.

“Rhaenyra?” His voice was laced with surprise, he spoke very little of her and though you never prodded further there was uncertainty of if he held disdain toward her and that had been the reason for his little mention of her or if there was something else. “He may love her more than the rest of us but she will never inherit after what she’s done to the family.”

I will not have another of my children marr this family with shame. Viserys had said this the previous day, now with context it seemed to make sense. You were in no position to question further and you didn’t, though little pieces of information you’d gathered over the months fell into place, albeit disjointed but nonetheless sensical.

The oldest of the siblings, born to a different mother was free-spirited and rather outspoken, if the rumours of the common folk were to be believed then she ran off with Viserys’ brother and her Uncle for love. You’d initially taken the slighted gossip with a pinch of salt but could think of no other reason Rhaenyra could bring shame to such a proud and religious family.

You spare Aegon a look, not pitiful or full of sorrow and despair but one that was at least hopeful.

“If you ever wish to disappear, far from here, say the words and I will make it happen.” A grim solution, but it was the only thing you could think about that would keep Aegon’s conscience intact with the least amount of bodies in the process.

“Threat of death? After all this time? Here I was beginning to think you tolerated me,” he found it within himself to jest, a smile on his lips that etched into your mind long after he turned away sullenly, “I couldn’t… I can’t leave them.”

The unspoken burden of the oldest remaining sibling weighs heavy on him, you have come to learn many things about Helaena and Daeron in passing comments or quips. Aemond fiercely sits in the peripheral of your thoughts often when you think of Aegon and wonder how different things may have been if you didn’t help Aemond.

“I tolerate you no more than a crocodile tolerates a drowning wildebeest in his river,” you jest, suppressing a coy smile. You squeeze his hand reassuringly and as if responding to a question, he squeezed yours in return. “Threat of death is not so awful, death is not the end we believe it to be,” you muse, eyes cast down the expansive cave mouth, a very characteristically cryptic moment from you.

Down the cave, a seemingly tiny dot in the distance was your only indicator of an exit, a light that specified the sun's bright rays was what awaited you when it was time to leave the soggy cavernous hole.

Deep rumbling shudders through the cave, a great force rippling through the ground no different to how an earthquake unmistakingly rips through the earth indiscriminately. Though it is a force of nature, it is not what one might think as queit relief washes over you. Aegon looks to you in search of an answer or reaction, you remain unbothered and look to him with a sincere smile, “you’re a good man, Aegon… I only wish for others to see you the way I do.”

He is stunned a moment, possibly wondering where that came from as you were thinking the same but he looks past you and back nervously, “this isn’t the moment where you leave me at the mercy of whatever thing has crawled in here?”

You laugh and shake your head, a sound so foreign to even you it was a wonder how you managed to share a space with Auntie who was decidedly humourless for so many years. “This cave may be Ornmir’s own domicile but she won’t hurt you, and I won’t leave you here either… I believe it isn’t safe to return to the hut. Your holy knight might still be on the lookout for you and I’d prefer you rest before I release you back to those den of wild dragons.”

What you wanted to say more than anything was, stay, stay here with me and never go back to the wretches who seek to ruin you. But it was hard, hard to even admit that first and foremost and hard to be so vulnerable with someone. Auntie kept you at arms length always as if preparing you for the inevitable time she left you, feeling attached to someone always seemed forbidden.

But with Aegon, it was easy. So easy it was terrifying.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks quietly, when you turn to him his eyes are already trained on your face as if trying to pry into your very thoughts.

The words can’t form in your mouth, the admission that perhaps loneliness wasn’t what fulfilled you any longer refused to leave your mouth so you search for another answer quickly. Despite not finding a way to express your inner thoughts you find your body leaning in toward him, hands cupping the sides of his face and pressing your forehead against his in a manner that was more intimate than expected.

Noses brushing against one another, your eyes look down at the curve of his cheeks from the smoothest point to where his stubble had started to break through.

“Let me make this right,” you promise, thumbs brushing softly over his cheeks, “the least I can do is try and take away the curse I put on you. I cannot cure the ailments of the future but I can undo my own wretched infliction.”

“Okay,” he breathes out in a voice so small you wouldn’t hear it if it weren’t for his breath lightly fanning your face. “What about you?” He asks almost painfully, and you selfishly think it’s at the thought of the monthly visits coming to a stop.

”You are no stranger, I wish for you to visit on your own terms, not because you’re forced too.”

“Okay.” He says again, hands coming up to sit atop yours over his face.

The two of you remain there for an uncertain amount of time, you don’t fully recall disengaging from the embrace but you do. Quietly going over the plan for the evening, you stated many times throughout that the likelihood of success was slim and the results wouldn’t bear its fruit until a month away, but you’d be damned if you were going to at least try.

Aegon assured you he was well rested and in fact argued he should accompany you. Him joining was not the problem, it was the prospect of his mother or holy knight finding him before you could finish the ritual. There was little else you could do to convince him otherwise as he held onto your hand firmly when you whisk the both of you away through darkness and into the Fortress.

Night had fallen a couple of hours prior, the sun no longer commanding the skies but the moon. Her rays of silver cascaded through stained glass and created prismatic shapes of colour on the carpet below your feet as they quietly roamed the West Wing corridor together. Aegon still held onto your hand.

Much like it had been the day prior, it was desolate bar from the occasional servant who eyed the two of you but made no comment or haste to alert anyone.

“Aransmore wrote to us about their cattle getting eaten and the farmers being terrorized by a great beast in the swamp… that is why we set for Durrenden.” Aegon whispered cautiously, you had guessed he felt as though he owed you some degree of explanation for why the castle was bare and Durrenden had so many swordsmen.

”Yes.. Ornmir… She’s — She’s still angry and I am unsure what the cause is. Her shrine has been repaired yet there is an ire that remains present. I shall visit her again in time…once this has been settled,” you nod at him, quietly responding.

Once outside a large set of oak doors, gilded gold edging and embellishments, there was little mystery left at who lay in the chambers beyond them. Neither of you make the first move, both merely staring at the door as if it would open on its own accord.

You look over at Aegon, “we need not go through this, if you wish it so.”

“No,” he says softly, looking down, then back up to the door, “no I want to.” His voice is hardened, more determined and you wish more than anything you could read his thoughts but you turn away and nod.

He surprises you more, taking the first step forward but you are the one who opens the door. Both of you have an unspoken kinship bred from months of understanding each other slowly.

The room is dark, save for the silver light of the moon cascading through the open window. Despite the cool breeze flowing through, the room stank distinctly of mold and must, as though the windows had been sealed shut for years. Your eyes settle on Viserys, the first time you’ve seen him since ailing him with his son's mangled eye. He was less man than he was rot, you decided, the cause of the smell being him.

Half of his face blackened with necrosis, the infection taking a rather nasty turn. The leeches on his face had no more incentive to keep eating away at the flesh, not when it had shrunk down to the bone and exposed part of his skull. It was grotesque, really, but your face remained unmoved as you stood beside the bed and looked down at him. Only then did your face twist into something unpleasant.

You turn to Aegon, face pulled to a frown that half indicated disgust, nostrils slightly flared and eyebrows crossed together into a sullen expression. “He’s dead.” You say, defeatedly.

You were too late.

Tag List (lemme know if you wanna be tagged :D)

@karlachs-soldier @serving-targaryen-realness @deltamoon666 @bogbutteronmycroissant @heavenly1927

[star-trek-fandom-confessions]

#365

"The navel orange aliens who wanted to sacrifice Rutherford and Billups were some of the most annoying characters in the series. Same with the aliens Ransom met who were way too picky about what numbers to use."

[lunarmicrowaves]

The houseplant Lyf storyline has an official name now:

The Bifrost Abomination AU

I will tag the stuff I make for it with that so that it’s all in one place and organised. Feel free to do whatever you want with it, just ask me first.

Anyway, no creation of mine is complete without some weird creatures, so here is Lyf when overloaded on Eldritch Rainbow.

And now the infodump:

The form resembles a deer, a sacred creature on Midgard (also because deer are f r e a k y)

Lyf doesn’t remember anything from these episodes except for brief flashes of clarity and the general things they felt (usually fear and sadness, but also a strange comfort)

Being around Deer Lyf increases your chances of getting mutated through exposure to the Bifrost, although their effects can sometimes be reversed, unlike a direct exposure to unfiltered Yog-sothoth energy

Yes they glow in the dark

The horns/branches always spark with little rainbow light wisps, expelling the excess Bifrost from Lyf’s body.

There are patches of moss on the body, and the fur has algae and lichen on it (like sloth fur)

The eyes are somewhere under the hair, usually only visible either when they start glowing or when someone shines a light directly at them

Deer Lyf likes head scritches (Regular Lyf likes them too but will never admit it out loud)

Don’t look behind their hair, that’s where the nightmares live.

[sanguineterrain]

about spilled milk - e.m.

okay now you folks said you weren't tired of the eddie snapshots so here i am with another one because it's all i can write these days...

Summary: Eddie's got you every time. Even when you've spilled milk.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings/tags: depressive episode, reader has an emotional breakdown, brief suicidal thoughts. there is an uplifting ending; not a 'they got over it!" because that's not how depression works, but i made a point not to end on a sad note. if you think these topics might upset you, please take care of yourself first.

by the way, it does get better.

divider by firefly-graphics

Strawberry milk is your favorite. 

Chocolate is a close second. Pure, whole milk is likely the Devil's invention. Soy milk is decent when you have the sudden, crazed urge to go healthy and reinvent your personality. 

But strawberry milk has always been there for you. 

There's a carton of it in your fridge right now. You hope it's still good. If you remember correctly (not that your memory is all that reliable these days), you'd bought it Monday. It's now Sunday. Milk doesn't expire that fast, does it? Certainly not strawberry milk, with all of Nesquik's special preservatives. 

You feel preserved too. It must be a strange process, forcing a thing to be something it's not; making it last when it doesn't want to. 

There are too many dishes in the sink. You'd promised you'd get to them today, but that had been three days ago. They add to the kitchen’s essence, you think. Or maybe that's just the preservatives talking. 

You use a paper cup so you can throw it out after. You need to throw out the garbage too, because it's rotting, and you can't handle another rotting thing in this house. 

The paper cup has little orange flowers on it. You stare at them for a long time while you work up the courage to open the fridge. 

You feel naked without your blanket. It's covered you for many days now. You're not sure what to do without it. 

Part of you wants to abandon the cup. But you're so thirsty. And you're hungry but you haven't got the energy to take a pan out of the cupboard and add another dish and throw something else away, all to rot, rot, rot. 

You take the milk from the fridge. It expires next month. The cold makes your fingers ache. It's the first tangible feeling you've had all day. 

Down the hall, the lock turns. You can't remember inviting anyone over, but, as you know, your memory isn't trustworthy these days. You think you've felt this yawning agony in your stomach for years, but you've managed to graduate high school and you've tricked a boy into falling in love with you. Years must be a stretch, right? 

You pour the milk. It's a pretty, happy pink. You wonder if it'll turn your insides a pretty, happy pink too. 

"Sweet thing, are you here?" 

The trick is done. This good boy, this person in your life you don't deserve, he's going to learn your secret. He's going to find you and your preservatives expired all over the kitchen floor. 

"Honey? Please respond to me if you're here." 

You take the milk. Somewhere between staring sightlessly at your ceiling tiles and thinking about doing the dishes, you've forgotten how to hold a cup. 

It falls. Pink milk sprays the kitchen tile. 

The yawning agony does something funny. It decides to climb up your throat. It's tired of being inside you. You can't blame it. You wouldn't want to be inside yourself either. 

Eddie finds you hunched over the counter, crying like you're grieving. And you are. You mourn the milk and you mourn the flesh that used to fill the hole in your chest. 

"Baby? Hey, hey, what's happening? What's wrong?"

Everything is wrong. You're the wrongest of all. 

Eddie leads you away from the mess. Your legs don't work right and you stagger, knees giving out. Eddie holds you and you don't like being held, but you think you might've never gotten up if Eddie wasn't here. 

"Oh, honey. Baby, it's alright. It's okay, it's okay."

This is scary. You are scary. People don't like to be afraid. Eddie will snap at you, get angry that you've spilled milk and that the agony couldn't come out until after he left.  

You wait for the hushing. The urgent pleads to calm down. You have never calmed down in your life. You don't know how. 

"It hurts," you cry and grip Eddie's shirt so hard your fingers ache. 

"What hurts? What hurts, honey? C'mere, lemme see."

"I hurt," you say. "I don't want to be here."

"Oh." Eddie tucks your face into his neck and rubs your back. Up and down, up and down. "Oh, oh, it's okay. I got you. I want you to be here. It won't always feel like this."

He cradles you through your agony. Eddie doesn't shout or shush. He doesn't tell you to mind the neighbors or your parents in the next room who'll think something is seriously fucking wrong with you. 

You cry and scream and probably squeeze Eddie too hard. And he lets you, even though the trick is over and he doesn't have to love you anymore, if he doesn't want to. 

"I'm sorry," you wail. 

"No, don't apologize. Nothing to apologize for."

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this."

You don't want to rot. You've tried your whole life to avoid this feeling. To be happy, because that's what people want. They want you to be happy so they can burden you. It's hard to burden somebody who rots. 

Eddie holds you until you stop your mourning on your own. Then he picks you up from the floor and helps you to the couch. 

"D'you want the milk?" he asks, gentle even though you're monstrous. 

You nod. 

Eddie's hand lingers on your cheek. Then he goes and cleans up your milk. And he pours more into a real glass, one that will need to be washed. Then he ties up the garbage and brings it outside. 

You drink your milk and wait for him to not come back. 

But Eddie does. He washes his hands in the kitchen sink and then he sits down next to you. 

You drink half the glass. Eddie takes it from you and puts it on the table.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," you say. 

"You didn't scare me."

"I did."

I don't want to be here, you'd said before, and they'd screamed at you for it. 

"No," Eddie says, and slips your fingers together. "You didn't. I'm not afraid of your feelings. I'm worried. And I care about you. And I love you. But I'm not afraid."

"It's too much." I'm too much.

"No, it's not." No, you're not.

You look at him. Your eyes feel hot again. 

"If you want to leave—"

"I don't. And I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it." 

Your lip wobbles, but not because of the agony. 

"You want me to hold you?" Eddie asks. 

You crawl into his arms and he sorts through your mess. He's real and alive and so are you and God, you don't want to fight this good thing anymore. 

"Tell me again you'll stay," you plead. 

"I'll stay," Eddie says. 

You curl your hand into a fist and rest it over his heart. 

"I spilled so much milk."

Eddie wipes a tear from your cheek. 

"That's okay. We can always get more."

[ddostoyevskyy]

Not sure if you are taking requests and if you aren't feel free to ignore this!

May I request kunikida x reader where reader finds a box of 8 kittens abandoned? And reader decides to adopt them all? I love cats and kunikida when I had a small dream about this.

Have a good day 🫶

YOU HAD ME AT MEOW

Kunikida Doppo

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒... gn!reader, reader loves cats (and if you don't, why not?), reader radiates cat energy, reader adores Atsushi (‘cause he is a cat), reader also gives Kunikida slow blinks (iykyk), cat distribution system, scene reference from BSD Wan! Episode 3.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄... how could I say no to this request?! 😭 My poor cat parent heartttttttttttt. I hope you enjoy reading and thank you for requesting! This is my first time taking requests:) Kunikida is definitely like a ‘dad who doesn’t want a cat but got caught baby talking to them’ type of cat lover. And, this is so cheesy. Also, the intented paragraphs are parts of flashback/memory.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒... 1.402k

BSD MASTERLIST.

One thing that Kunikida loves about you is your heart for stray cats everytime he tags you along for a mission (with Dazai in addition) where he also can spend time with you while working. You always have a cat food ready at your bag and everytime you manage to find a cat to feed, getting Kunikida late for his schedule — he can’t do anything about your quality time with cats.

He also catches you staring at him as he stared back in confusion with eyebrow shot up when he raised his head away from his laptop because he can sense your eyes staring at his face, though he can’t really blame you; everytime he stares back at you with those shade of eyes, all in while blinking slowly at him that had his confusion rose more, but the cat like grin you gave him after doing that weird gesture with your nose scrunched up always made him sigh in contentment (the confusion is still there).

“(Name)’s so cute!” Dazai’s enthusiasm is also what Kunikida’s problem everytime you do that mannerism of yours. The brunette also loves to poke that compliment everytime you stare at Kunikida, blink, smile, and leave after that to get more coffee on the café down the ground floor of the building. “(Name) loves to tell you (Name) loves you everytime, huh?”

Kunikida sent him a glare of confusion as his forehead creased and Dazai stared st him dumbfoundedly while pointing on his face.

“Don’t tell me, you don’t know why (Name) always do that?!”

“No?” Kunikida exclaimed and the brunette wailed, trashing his body on his chair with a complete despair written on his face as he put a hand on his chest to act like he’s been shot by the heart (literally).

“Whaaaaaaaat?! Ah! Kunikida’s so gullible that even a single gesture of (Name)’s love can’t be seen!”

“What the hell, Dazai?! Stop assuming things! Of course, I know (Name) loves me and so do I!”

“Then, tell me, Kunikida-kun. What does that slow blinks means then?” Dazai said with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face that made Kunikida more furious, but he supressed them with a sigh, unable to answer because he can’t really explained what do you mean by those weird gesture he’s been receiving from you.

“See? You don’t know,” The brunette let out an exasperated sigh, “Slow blinks is a gesture that cats do to their owners to tell them that they love and trust their owners, so they often blink slowly everytime their owners stares at them.”

To say at that moment, Kunikida is now already flustered and flushed pink everytime you gesture him with slow blinks.

Despite that love gesture, you were always enthusiastic at the fact that Atsushi had an ability to transform in a tiger — in which Kunikida told you that it wasn’t exactly a domestic cat and you can’t take care of him in your shared-dorm because he’s also a young man (and Kunikida is your significant other, take care of him instead!).

You’ve been acting strange, Kunikida have noticed; eversince you’ve arrived with a random medium-sized box you keep in the storage room of your shared dorm and you told him not to worry about it, Kunikida had been wary of you.

What are you hiding in that box? Was it a body? Although, it doesn’t emits any smell of a rotting corpse, he shook that thought off. He remembers the look on your face when he asked you about it when he caught you carrying the box inside the dorm carefully and without a noise. You also looked startled as your eyes dropped to your watch, telling him that it is too early for him to arrive home (which he always arrive later than your shift at the Agency) as you are quick to discard the topic.

You were also nervously prancing around the dorm, glancing at him time to time to check if Kunikida might invade the storage room of your dorm, yet he payed no mind if it’s something about invading your privacy. But, he’s curious!

“(Name), what’s really that box for?” Kunikida questioned as you were trapped between him and the wall of your dorm and you nervously let out a forced laugh before shaking your head.

“I-It’s nothing, Doppo! Don’t mind that.” You stuttered as you internally screamed. You were really bad at lying, especially when Kunikida is cornering you like this everytime you hide such minor things that you are too shy to tell him because he acts totally different than what you expected.

Though, this time, you were really sure his reaction will be what’s on your mind.

He lets out a sigh, “(Name).” He muttered your name as he steps in closer, grabbing your wrist in between his fingers as he intertwined your fingers in his before dragging you with him as he walks towards the storage room of your dorm and you frantically yelp, pacing quick in front of him but his strenght is unmatched, holding you with both hands on your hips before hoisting you up and carrying you like a sack of potatoes on his shoulder.

“Doppo, nooooooooooooo!”

He opened the door as he flickered the lights open before striding forward the box.

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Kunikida glances back at you as you stared back at him with doe eyes; a habit everytime you did something troublesome (maybe because of hanging around Dazai too much).

“(Name),” He firmly calls your name with a sigh again, “Is that what I think inside the box?”

“Doppoooooooooooo,” You whined his name, “Yes. It is what you think it is inside the box.” You finally gave in as he sighed before gently placing you to your feet. You walked towards the box as you opened it and Kunikida gawked.

“(Name), I know it’s a cat, but I didn’t think of that many! Did you pick them one by one?!”

“No, I did not! They’re already placed here in the box, all eight of them and I can’t decide which to bring back home, so I carried them all! And, besides, it’s raining heavily yesterday and they’re on the sidewalk!” You wailed. Kunikida glances at the kittens inside the box in slumber, snuuglint on each other as he glance on you again.

“Please? Can we keep them?”

“(Name) —”

“Please? Besides, the President also loves cats and I always provide half of my salary for cats’ necessities. I will also make sure they won’t make a mess! Cats can be litter trained and you know how much I wanted cats, right? Please, Doppo?” You pleaded as you wrapped your arms around his neck, his arm automatically wrapping around your hips and as you finished, the cats might have sense your small outburst that they also started to make noise when they noticed the both of you.

A choir of meows echoes through the room as though luring Kunikida into agreeing, and adding the fact that you’re being affectionate didn’t help.

“Don’t you think, eight cats are too much? We can keep atleast, one or two, (Name).”

“Come oooooooon, please?”

Needless to say, Kunikida did agree at the end when the seemingly continuous of meowing and your bribing did succeed. He can’t blame you; after all, you had him at meow the first time he met you bribing a cat with a food in your hand.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved 2023 © ddostoyevskyy. Do not repost without permission or plagiarized.

[telomeke-bbs]

The Our Skyy 2 Bad Buddy trailer has premiered, and quite honestly they're not giving us much to go on (so don't set too much store by it). What I gather:

Archi and Engine rivalry is very much a thing still – both faculties have to put on a play, but the auditorium is only available for one. So Ajahn Pichai makes them compete to see who gets it ("The faculty that's more prepared gets the auditorium."). Sweeping the exterior grounds with large brooms and construction drawings with truss frames are somehow involved.

Pat and Pran seem to be aware of each other's feelings but their relationship is beset by rivalry, so it looks like the episodes are set as predicted during the timeskip after the Beachside Bet of BBS Ep.6 [4/4] and their sophomore year of BBS Ep.7, in the early part of their "rivalry as courtship" era. But you never know! 🤷‍♂️

A lot of backstage shenanigans between Pat and Pran, and the red backdrop is everywhere.

Their friend groups don't seem aware that the two have embarked on something romantic (i.e., they seem to be seeing only rivalry and competition), which fits placing this in the timeskip.

Wai seems much less like a troublemaker here though.

Pat's hair looks even more hideous than in the earlier Our Skyy 2 trailer. Not easy to make Ohm look bad, but they're managing somehow.

Ohm lost weight after Bad Buddy and looked much leaner in the series he did post-BBS. Strangely he looks bigger in this trailer, almost Pat-sized again (maybe it's the hair and faculty jacket). Nanon looks much the same.

They've changed the filming location for their university, so the ambience is different.

Ink and Pa are in it! And Ink is feeding Pa with shrimp (again). It looks like another hotpot in someone's dorm.

But Pat calls himself "Nong Pat" and asks to be fed shrimp by Pran in front of Ink and Pa. What gives?

Pat and Pran bunk over in that same dorm room (it's not Tinidee), with a tent and Christmas lights – it looks like a planned romantic getaway, but one they're forced to hold indoors away from public view maybe. Their energy there is tender, softer and more vulnerable. And mutual.

They're also seen in a lift for the company Hightem Construction, not LogTech, but they're wearing "Visitor" tags all the same.

Pran wears The Watch, and his PP hobo bag puts in an appearance too.

There are cheek kisses but nothing on the scale of The Rooftop Kiss.

Pat and Pran do some sort of deal behind the scenes, in front of their laptops, sealed with a fistbump.

As noted before by @miscellar and @dribs-and-drabbles (see these links here and here 😍) you CAN'T trust a trailer by Director Aof, so we have six days to find out how much of the above holds true and how much of it turns out to be wool pulled over our eyes. 😂

Waiting on tenterhooks all the same! 😍 And counting down to 31 May 2023... 💖

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