#its those fun little moments to spin into a story

[jacqcrisis]

I really like when interesting narrative things happen in fights due to various game mechanics. Examples:

- against the Masks in Auntie Ethel's lair, Roman went down to death saves for the first time. Gale was the closest and got him back up. Ronan never even needs healing so I like to imagine there had to have been a moment of anxiety within the party over that along with the strengthening of comraderie between Gale and their cleric as he hands Ronan a few healing potions.

- along the monastary traul, there is a fight with some death shepherds. In that fight, Gale actually dies for a moment, down to death saves before a ghoul finishes him. Ronan has to use revivify for the first time before the rest of the party take out the last remaining undead. After, I like the idea of Ronan fretting, uncharacteristically shaken as he heals up the chunk missing out of Gale's neck.

- the party has a habit of singling out someone in a room and taking out that one person with no one else being the wiser. So I just really like the image of Ronan walking into a room silently, letting everyone in, and closing the door as he nods to Karlach and Astarion to take care of the very confused person watching all this happen.

- this happened in the prison under moonrise towers to the warden, along with the party just hanging out behind Gale in the warden's office as he had thunder wave prepared and aimed at the door to take out the scrying eyes that came through. This took several minutes so I imagine it the party is genuinely just chilling and chatting as they wait. Ronan's standing resolute with his hand on his mace, watching Astarion drink off the dead Warden while he and Karlach, whose perched on the desk, discuss next steps. Extremely chill, bloody, and funny scene to me.

- while protecting the portal for Halsin, Ronan was put in front of said portal, cast spirit guardians, guardian of faith, had lathanders mace, and was genuinely just a beacon of light as he blinded nearby enemies and took out anything that got past Gale casting fireball or the other two picking off larger targets. In game, he's being a cleric making full use of the capabilities I tend to ignore for most fights. Narratively, since Ronan usually stays back and focuses more on keeping everyone alive and well while picking off smaller targets so everyone else can do the impressive damage, I like the idea that it was a stark reminder of what Ronan is capable of. Especially to certain vampires looking to murder their old master.

- Astarion gets down to death saves A LOT. Just all the goddamn time. Most of Ronan's healing is going to keeping him going since he's specced to be in the face of opponents, his armor sucks, and also I forgor all the time he has a fucking bow. Narratively, I like to think Astarion is doing it somewhat on purpose as it gets him physically touched in a way that is intimate, yet not expectant of anything more. Fucked up way to get intimacy for the guy with intimacy issues.

- adding onto that, the second time Ronan had to had to use Revivify was during the fight with the Apostle of Myrkul. Astarion went down to death saves, and before Ronan could get him back up, he was knocked off the platform and dead. Immediately revivify him and a healing word to keep him going. I like to think Ronan ordered him to stay out of range and swap to his bow, but Astarion ignored that, ran up, and got the last hit on the big skeleton and then was EXTREMELY smug about it later when Ronan had to patch him up. Again.

- last one: at the circus, I sent Ronan up at Dribble's request. Obviously, clown man turned out to be evil and combat starts. By game mechanics, Astarion is most likely to be first in initiative and he does just that here. I didn't see the other guys closer by, so we send the rogue to go stab a clown, at which point I notice there's like 2 other dudes in the lineup. So game wise, I make a mistake because Ronan is a tank who can 1v1 a clown for days, but narratively: I think it's a cute idea that Astarion sees the large dragon man he's in a relationship with (and who he needs to help kill Cazador) get threatened by a dog and a clown and just snaps into action before anyone else has a chance. That's adorable to me.

[b0nten]

HOW ARE BABIES MADE?

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ ran, rindou, sanzu, takeomi, kakucho, mikey and izana being asked by their children how babies are made.

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ reader is implied to be fem, reader is called “mother”, “mommy” etc. this was so fun to write!!! thank you anon for requesting <3 also, i used tenjiku&bonten characters but everything’s taking place in the final timeline.

RAN is definitely the type to try to explain the entire thing, without any second thoughts whatsoever. He’d definitely hear the question, and open his mouth but before gets to say ‘sex’ he feels a book flat against his head. “what do you think you’re doing?” you whisper-yell from the kitchen, curry udon long forgotten on the stove. “explaining to your daughter how she spawned into the world?” he answers, dodging another decor item that you aimed toward him. upon asking, dramatically and over-exaggeratedly of course, so offended because he just doesn’t know what he was doing wrong, you just stare at him. “we agreed to tell her when she’s 14. she doesn’t even know boys have dicks and you want to explain the entirety of sex and how it goes to her? do you even know how it works?” he sighs, defeated, “let’s go eat, sweetheart, i think i made mommy a lil mad.” he says, picking up his daughter, “that last part was uncalled for, by the way.” “suck it up, mr. club owner. ”

meanwhile, RINDOU simply freezes: “daddy, how are babies made?” what? excuse him? oh my lord, he did not expect this to happen this early. why the hell is his five year old son asking him about coital activity, right when you’re not around? fuck him (himself), fuck this situation, fuck you for not being around right now (both figuratively and literally). “you see! when… uhm.. when two people love each other and they kiss, they make a baby!” he mentally face-palms for what the fuck he just said. “so you can’t kiss girls until you’re twenty-one, yeah?” finally, thankfully, his phone rings, and thank the heavens it’s you. “oh my god, y/n—” “rindou, what did i just hear on the baby cam?” “haha, my love! funny story!!!!”

SANZU just goes feral. he’s having a fucking anxiety attack or whatever so he just texts you while your daughter asks her daddy about how babies are made.

TAKEOMI plays it safe, using the infamous stork. “and it just comes flying?” “yeah, it carries a little basket with its beak and gives it to us!” he smiles, playing into his baby girl’s fantasy. “you sound just like my parents.” you smile and his gaze averts to yours, from his seat on the living room carpet. “well, your own stories inspired me, because, to be honest, i was about to shit myself.” “daddy!” the little one yells, stretching out her palm, “1000 yen!” and her father exasperates “god put me out of this misery of only being an atm, you’re just like your mother. ow! what’d i deserve that punch for?”

KAKUCHO handles it like a pro. “papa.” one of his little girls walks up to him, younger twin following her right behind. “yes, pretty girl?” he straightens his back and crouches down, still sitting on the couch. “how are babies made, papa?” the shyer one asks and his face drops for a split second. “i promise to tell you when you’re older, right now it’s classified information!” he jokes, and the girls giggle. “now… who wants to watch doraemon!!” he does the jazz hands and the twins jump into his lap. not long after, you sit down next to them. “if i didn’t know any better, i would have said you rehearsed those lines from the moment you were born.” you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. he wraps an arm around you, chuckling, and kisses the crown of your head.

if there’s someone (who thinks they’re) escaping this question, it’s MIKEY. “ ‘tou-chan, how are babies made?” blond locks spin toward him, and the big eyes of his daughter look him up and down. “ ‘tou-chan?” she says again, a bit annoyed. mikey sacrifices the motorbike races he’s watching and looks back at her. “ask ‘kaa-chan, i’m not really good at biology.” he smiles when she jumps from her place and runs into your bedroom, where you’re blow-drying your hair. confident that he’s just dodged a bullet, manjiro returns to his priority — the tv. moments later you storm in, hair half wet, still in your bath robe with the kid in your arms, visibly furious. he knows he’s dodged a bullet but is about to get hit by a cannon.

IZANA is at the dining table doing some paper-work for tenjiku and you’re watching tv when your oldest marches into the kitchen, determined. “daddy.” the blond looks up, eyeing back at the spitting image of himself. “yes?” he answers, and you also look back to see what’s going on. slamming a big book on the table, the toddler points to the cover “how are babies made?” you burst out laughing and your husband snatches the book away, making you laugh hysterically. “where’d you find this?!” he questions, and his forehead is already soaked with sweat and he wants to bury himself into the ground. “your office.” he can’t believe his five year old son walked in there and just so happened to find this book: effective positions for baby-making. his cheeks redden and he scans the room to find you and request your help, but he’s greeted with the sight of you rolling around on the living room floor, trying to calm your laughter down. yay.

[shwoyo]

figure skater gf hcs ! ﹫kuroo ; tsukishima

🏷️: fem!reader, figure skater!reader, fluff, mentions of injury, not proof-read :P

wc: 567

a/n: FUCK lmaoo I'm so sorry to the anon on this post,, i did not read it properly. SO here !!! I'm so sorry again oh my golly. also, i do not know how to figure skate SO i'm keepin' it simple

𝜗𝜚 TSUKISHIMA KEI

neutral when he first finds out about it

but once he sees you perform, he's in awe

he just finds it so amazing !!

but of course he'll hide that feeling LOL

technically not hide... he just won't speak up about it unless mentioned

will complain every time you ask him to come with you so he could watch, but is actually very happy inside

will record you every time he's watching, with consent of course !!!

he'll post it on his story

he is so PROUD watching you skate on ice

when he's watching, he looks at you as if you enchanted him i fear

rolls his eyes when the other first years ask about you and your figure skating skills, but he will yapyapyap about it, answering their questions as if it was a thesis defense

but its just because he's so proud !!

would wanna learn how to figure skate but in secret... just to surprise you

would probably be just good at skating around, not those flips and spins

oh would secretly LOVE those dates where it's only you and him on the rink, and some indie music is playing on the background

would be so worried if you ever sprained your ankle/injure yourself

"what were you doing stupid?" "you need to be careful next time, please" "don't be so careless with your moves, okay?"

he's only saying that because he's worried okay !!

wouldn't deny going to watch you skate anymore, because he's so worried now that he has to keep an eye on you 24/7

𝜗𝜚 KUROO TETSURO

would ask so many questions when he finds out that you figure skate

"that's so cool!" "when did you start?" "was it hard for you?"

is just very curious and is amazed with what you do

the first time he watches you on ice, he's cheering so hard

he loves flexing you, esp towards yaku

"my girlfriend is so cool, i bet you can't find anyone better than her" he says with a grin

yaku would just roll his eyes LOL

he would record every performance of yours, even practices! (and would also be the only reason he's shutting up while watching you)

would be the one to ask when you'll go to the rink, so he can come with you and watch

on times where its only you and him on the rink, he'll skate with you

but he sucks a little so he falls on his ass most of the time

but the moment would be lovey dovey fun

will eventually learn how to skate properly, with your help of course, and he would be so annoying about it

"y/n, let's go to the rink today!" "y/n, d'ya wanna skate?" "y/n, i'm bored, let's skate!"

but who are you to deny him right

oh would be so worried when you get injured

he's gentle/angry worried, he's speaking so softly while his eyebrows are furrowed

"i told you to be safe, didn't i?" "you should've been more careful, should've watched your moves slowly" "let this be a lesson to be more careful next time, yeah?"

he would just be so caring while you recover

would buy everything you want

would just be by your side 24/7 until you fully recovered

once you do, he's watching your every performance and practices very closely than he did before

but of course, would still have the same enthusiasm as he did before!

© shwoyo, all rights reserved.

[miriam-loves-cartoons]

I'll just make a list of Gravity Falls' spin-offs that I would like to watch:

- A spin-off telling what Stanford saw during the 30 years that he spent in the Nightmare Realm and other dimensions. Stanford wrote in Journal 3 that he would need 10 journals to write about what happened when he lived there, so there must be many amazing things to see (I also would like to know more about the Oracle/Seven-eyes, she seems quite mysterious).

- A spin-off about Bill's whole life before meeting Stanford. Since his life in Euclydia (and its destruction) to the moment he meet the Henchmaniacs and each of his tries to trick humans to build a portal for him.

- A spin-off of Stanley and Stanford's adventures in Stan'O War. Maybe we would get to know more characters, like saylors or old friends of theirs.

- A spin-off about the childhood/teenage years of Stanley and Stanford in New Jersey. I think it would be fun to see a rivalry between the two Stans and the Sibling Brothers (those blonde twins from the comics) and some school situations that they have been through.

- A little spin-off of Stanley's schemes to sell things during the 10 years he was far from his family. Each episode would tell a story of a different product to trick people and in the end of every episode, he would be expelled from the city where he was selling it. There could also be some romantic episodes of Stanley's relationships (I would like to see Marylin with him, ya know).

- A little spin-off telling what happened to Blendin before and after the Weirdmageddon. I know it is revealed in Journal 3's letter, but I'd like to see more of his life while he was running away from the Time Agents.

(Please, just ignore the fact that most of my ideas are about Stanley and Stanford, they are my favourite characters)

[absolutely-normal-about-x]

assuming reploids can run games within their own brain, what kinds of games do you think X would enjoy most?

OOHHH AWAWAAA FINALLY SOMEBODY GIVING ME THE QUESTION THAT IM WAITING FOR!!!

Okay so I seen folks giving X their own takes of what kind of games he’ll enjoy I agree but some I don’t-

X dislikes games that have mindless violence and bloodshed. He’s a pacifist will not hesitate to fight back, also if the story is good and displays a message that he can relate to and proper morals and lessons, Puzzle games, even retro games too. Just silly games that help him to distract a little from war, but some hit harder than others.

Umm just a heads up this a long one filled with rambles and some headcanons

Here are the games I believe X would enjoy!

Tetris- Listen I just know this game would love a puzzle game! Genuinely speaking this man would get the highest scores imaginable in those Tetris royale he’s the reigning champion. I like the idea that Tetris is one of the first games that the researchers made him play when they were studying him. He finds them great for relieve stress.

Undertale - Listen the moment Axl told him that there’s an RPG where you can play as a pacifist and get the true ending. HE LOCKED IN. Like he loves that silly game to bits especially taken off guard with its themes. As he completed the whole true pacifist route (He was a Sobbing mess during the true pacifist ending). A lot people would say that sans would be his favorite character but the truth is not. The reason why he knows Sans’s thing is because Axl told him about the genocide route (he forbade anyone from playing that route on his save file, cause if they do he’s gonna be really upset.) the truth his favorites are the Dreemurs! He can relate to them on a personal level especially Toriel and Asgore. He understands their intentions, their grief, what they gone through, they are both in the right and the wrong at the same time.

They are complex characters, he doesn’t agree on Asgore killing the children but at the same time he knows that the barrier requires 7 human souls to open it. But also the moment that he broke the mercy button made him cover his mouth as he stared in shock. Toriel was doing her best to protect the children but keeping them trapped in the ruins and demonizing Asgore doesn’t help with the situation. Asriel and Chara, on how he cried in their stories as he feels nothing but guilt and pity over flowey’s existence. And yes he cried when his theme played. All characters of Undertale are complex he loves them and enjoys the nuance behind them.

Also Undyne reminds him so a lot of his wife-

Pokemon! Specifically the pokemon ranger games! Listen the idea of playing as a conservationist/ranger of helping and aiding people and pokemon alike. And then befriending said pokemon to help you solve puzzles, it’s great for him. Plus it’s nice to see conservationists getting representation in the gaming world.

The legend of Zelda series- he’s a bit picky for him to choose what game he enjoys most. He’s very well versed in the Zelda timeline, knowing all of the lore. If he had to pick a Zelda games that he enjoys the most Echoes of Wisdom and Skyward are there. Twilight Princess is probably how he got Zero into Zelda, after he watched X play it once time when he was crashing in his place. He also got Axl into it too through Botw and Totk but he unfortunately witnessed Axl committing every war crime imaginable in those games. He never in his life ever been so exasperated yet unsurprised by this. He would give him a A for creativity but man…why?

Professor Layton series is a puzzle series that he greatly enjoys, the stories are delightfully engaging, the characters are a treat and the puzzles were so much fun to do! X really enjoys Layton as a character of how well mannered and polite as a gentleman can be and lil Luke he appreciates him. He also loves the spin off featuring his adopted daughter!

Animal Crossing is a cute game for him to make his lil town, befriending cute animals and decorating his house. A cozy game for him to relax too! He spend hundreds of hours getting everything and making his dream house! When it comes to villagers, he lets them come and go as he pleases. He, Layer, Cinnamon and Massimo have island hang outs at Weekends, visiting the other’s island and helping eachother out it’s lovely.

Subnautica, the deep underwater exploration and studying the life that lives on. It’s eerie and at times stressful but it intrigues him deeply. It’s one of those games that he introduced to Marty and she is in love of it. She often with him on the couch together, watching him the play game as Marty happily gushes the sea life and needs out over it. He loves hearing her yap about it, when the gargantuan leviathan popped out of nowhere he screamed while Marty is even happier, that’s a big baby!

Phoenix Wright, another puzzle game! He found out about it, because he knew that Professor Layton had a crossover with it so he decides to give it a try. He enjoyed it! It was a critique of the Justice system (that he’s 100% behind it of critiquing governing power systems). But the characters were absurd and the story was a bit bonkers but at the end he enjoys them. Even more of watching his friends reach to the nonsense of how wild these cases they are. Very frustrated that Maya keeps getting framed and imprisoned for unnecessary reasons. It leaves him baffled that Phoenix keeps getting into these near death experiences and walking away from these without injury. Edgedworth investigations is a relief to him cause finally someone using common sense.

Cooking Mama, ITS SELF EXPLANATORY OKAY!?

Stardrew Valley- it’s another cozy game that he enjoys. Sometimes being a farmer in a quant village is nice and he enjoys the events that follow.

He rarely game first person shooter games but hearing Axl scream on the other side of the room after being sniped at a long distance is incredibly satisfying to hear.

Mario games are neat for him, like platformers are a hit or miss for him but his first Mario game was Oddessy, so the exploration is fun and intuitive for him. Other games are pretty fun too (Wonder and Paper Mario TYD are one of his favorites.

Fuga Melodies of Steel, yep it’s one of those games that he screams and cries. The story hits him so hard, especially the fact that these children had to man a massive Tank going through war as they try to save their loved ones. He loves these children to death seeing their personalities, desires and quirks, they endeared him. It hurts him so deeply, he’s impressed how it was mature to handle the realities of War what it does to people. Let me tell you once he finds out and witness what the soul cannon does he was on his knees, the guilt and horror of sacrificing a child’s life to save others gutted him harder than Sigma’s lasted blast- Zero walked in to him staring at the screen for hours while tears where streaming on his face of what he has done.

He restarted his save file and ensured no child will ever be used to fire that a cursed weapon.

He was extremely relieved that they changed how the soul cannon worked and it doesn’t sacrifice their lives him. He loved reading about the lore of this game and the fact that it was humanity were responsible of their own downfall doesn’t surprise him-

Despite the horrors of wars and tragedies the children marched on, holding on to hope for a better tomorrow. A sentiment that he’s grateful for.

[bard-marian]

Sometimes when I’m thinking about DA2, I really like to analyze the elements of the game from the perspective of all its elements being a part of a narrative which Varric is specifically crafting, and looking at those minor fetch quests with the named items- what do you think the purpose of naming them is was? I just think they’re so interesting as evidence of this whole life that Varric has had with Hawke and all these other moments that we’re not even hearing about. Like I imagine some of them, he includes as almost red herrings? Or these openings at least for little tangents that he’d be able to spin away from the main story if Cassandra asks about them. Because he names these items, I almost feel like they’re being said as recognizable features, perhaps from those tales he’s spun over the years that have been his most popular. Things that could be verified by others later and would give credence to his overall confession. Which in and of itself is fun to imagine, how these tall tales went, but a few of them in how they are framed I also feel might just be inside jokes or fond memories - glimpses of the interior of his relationship with Hawke. And which were more metaphor than truth?

Take for example the toe of the paragon - detached from its own as it is, no one’s reputation is harmed, but I like to think that when Hawke hauled it out of that box that it was still attached to a very much alive owner who was more an embarrassed dwarven noble’s son than paragon. (And that that probably became some great inside joke between Hawke and Varric - ‘you’ll die and all I’ll have to bring back to your poor mother is your big toe’ ‘by my ancestor��s big toe’ ‘by your ancestor’s big toe’)

Or what about the controversial book found laying in the chantry and returned to what appears to be a rebel elven mage? A satire found in the chantry - how interesting to think of it not as a real tome but also symbolism, perhaps one of the conversations and debates that was part of the building pressure that felled the city chantry.

Bottled Scar 5:34 Exalted. The Shawl of Dalesdottir. The Seal of House Talwain. All these little tidbits, all this evidence of a full life lived outside of what we see

[oldjws]

i am the percy jackson show’s biggest defender bc fuck all those MILLENIALS complaining about a KIDS show?? this isn’t for you babes its made mainly for the younger generation 😭😭🙏

“the pacing is too fast” so were the books.

“it’s so different from the books, i wanted it exactly like them” of course it’s different the first book wasn’t written with the other 5 books and the following spin offs in mind, so now they’re including details that help expand the world with regards to the whole story + it would be boring if we got a 1:1 retelling of the book like just read the books if that’s the story you want?? 😭

“annabeth is NOT annabeth” yes she literally is pls rmbr that annabeth and percy had a rocky start and they are literally 12!!!

“too much tell and not show” well yeah so were the books 💀 mind you percy’s very new to this world he doesn’t have much pre-existing knowledge other than the stories and so ofc the fastest way to develop the world is by telling, that’s why it’s much easier to show than tell in later books when the readers/watchers alr know so much about how things work so it doesn’t have to be said

“percy’s too serious” he literally makes the best sarcastic comments every episode; the books were written in his perspective, and all his best moments were in his head (which ofc is hard to show), other tv show/movie characters don’t make as many jokes as percy does here idk what ppl are going on about

“they ruined the lotus casino scene, the kids were supposed to have fun” the proceeds to say “where is the sense of urgency!!” now this is so contradicting. you want them to have fun but be urgent?? make it make sense 😭 but yes i would’ve loved to see them get a little distracted, but i loved the scene regardless

the show isn’t perfect, but it’s not as bad as everyone makes it out to be 😕

[1v6]

Must've Been the Wind - 1/3

All characters belong to @tthevoic3s— this is written with full consent and support on his part. It is very spoiler-heavy as this work is written with the full intention of integrating it into the main plot, but takes place many, many future chapters later.

Full story under a break to prevent accidental spoiling.

“Don’t get discovered.”

Sure. How hard could it be? She was the size of a mouse to them. She can sneak through humans her size, snooping around in a giant’s mansion is basically easy mode gameplay.

She looked at the entrance to the mansion. The mahogany doors that clearly did not welcome a person of her stature menacingly towered above her, in the same way the people those doors were made for would. But the doors were ajar. And if they were open…it was on them for letting uninvited guests in.

Say, perhaps, a little girl named Maya.

Well, getting in was easy. Even if the door wasn’t open, Maya could just use the tens of thousands of equally oversized windows to break in anyway. Not like she lacked any sort of experience in that— the only difference was these windows were a lot larger this time. If not, she could just bore a hole somewhere and sneak in all the same.

Getting up was a different problem altogether.

Three floors in this already oversized mansion.

No lifts. No escalators. Imagine not having technology.

Leaving her the only option: stairs.

Which would have been perfectly fine, in fact. Walking? Maya can walk under raw tropical heat from sunrise until sundown! Climbing up three floors? Child’s play. Climbing up three floors scaled to a giant, though… Really, why do these fuckers need to be that big anyway? To make life harder for her? Worst of all, of course the fucking room she had to get into was on the highest floor. Of course it was. But you know what?

Nuh uh. Fuck your big ass house and your big ass bodies. Watch this.

From her backpack, she produced a tool she knew would be useful for this meddling medieval situation for modern people like her. Left hand holding the coiled ropes, right hand spinning the tip of the grappling hook for momentum—

…three.

…two.

…one.

Her right hand let go of the hook, tossing it high up in the air. For a second, the grappling hook enjoyed its brief moment of flight, experiencing the joys of how it feels to fly freely like a bird in the great blue skies, before unceremoniously being defeated by gravity, landing on the top of the first step with a dull thud, and lodged itself into the carpet on the stairs.

Small arms hoisted the body attached to them onto the next step.

Great. Now just…

Maya did some mental calculations.

…thirty-nine more of these to go. UGH.

She should have stolen Higgs’ newest grappling hook model. It would have at least made this a lot easier to deal with. Instead of manually throwing a hook each time, his stuff could shoot and retract by simply pressing a button. With that, she could’ve been saving up so much time by climbing the walls and skipping to the fun part instead of the fucking. Stupid. Stairs.

Andrew is going to owe her big time when he gets his freedom back.

Ten steps later, Maya wanted to collapse very badly. She wouldn’t, obviously, her training does not permit a soldier to simply give up on themselves. She gritted her teeth, ready to hoist herself onto the next step when she felt a steady, rhythmic series of vibrations beneath her feet.

Thud.

Thud.

Oh fuck. The servants finally showed up now? When she was exposed on the stairs with nowhere to hide?

Thud.

Great timing they have, honestly.

Thud.

A soft giggle, followed by more chattering from another distinct voice echoed through the infinite, neverending stairway to heaven, seeing how it was so high above Maya could only guess where it ended. Unless they were insane, it meant there was more than one person. 

Thud.

She whipped her head towards the two giant servants. They seemed to be too occupied in their discussion to notice Maya— wait. One of them felt wrong. Her head was faced forward, occasionally shifting towards her colleague to acknowledge her, though the minute details of her eyes darting around in various directions was obvious to someone small for her. That one felt like she was on the lookout for something.

Someone probably planted a mole in Eira’s trusted circle then. Fuck. She might get discovered before she even got to the fun part of this. The whole point of doing this was because it would be fun! …Minus the part where Andrew’s freedom depended on her.

The vibrations of giant footsteps increased in intensity, until Maya could feel her bones vibrating along. 

Time is ticking. Where can she hide?

The balustrade said hi. With no time for introductions, Maya sprinted towards her new friend hoping it would provide enough cover for her.

She waited patiently for the vibrations to get louder and fade away.

Wait. She weirdly noticed feeling lighter and nimbler. She checked her belongings, seeing if she forgo— OH FUCK MY HUGE ASS. Her grappling hook!

That son of a bitch was still hooked onto the staircase!

And it was right in the middle of one of the maids’ paths. Specifically, the suspicious one. Even better. She was going to trip on that shit and suspect human activity and she would be fucked and she could not do anything to fix that given that time and distance no longer favoured her. Maya could only hope that falling down the stairs would instantly kill that woman or else her fate was sealed, most likely in a jar or a cage.

However unlikely it might be.

Maya could only watch the arrival of her doom when the giant shoe rose into the air, creating a shadow as large as her room back home. The shadow shrank as the shoe moved forwards, and kicked her grappling hook on the next step, which startled the giant woman, tripping herself in the process.

As the titanic form fell face forwards, hands the size of her bed slammed onto the steps, preventing a gruesome fate of death by faceplanting on the stairs.

Oh great, look who survived.

Though it wasn’t her survival that should worry her…

It was the fact that her head was turned towards Maya, large eyes opening even wider at the sight of the tiny human.

Maya was swept into a dark, fleshy prison before she even had time to react.

[bananaactivity]

What happens when Kai learns about Marcus being a bionic android? Is it a big reveal, or does Kai shrug it off?

He doesn't learn anytime soon.

Think about FBI agents or like secret service and their families. There is an understanding that they do stuff in that vein but like you don't have all the info.

My version of LRELMM involves a lot more secrecy from the public about the island the bionic students and stuff like that. Adam Bree and Chase are the publics only eye into some of what Davenport industries have going on.

Due to my still WIP Mighty Med AU, Kaz, Oliver, and Skyler's identities are highly secret. No bionic excuse, they have to follow the rules of the super world. They actually get their own team comic made in universe for my hypothetical third MM season before they join the EF. Its called "Frost-Burn" and it ends up being pretty popular. (Oliver is Frost-flare, Kai is Wild-spark or Burn-Out ) That leads to fun stuff with Jordan and Gus noticing things that connect their friends to the comic heroes. And I think its funny if Chase is a Wild-Spark or Burn-Out superfan and is literally shocked when he finds out its Kaz)

Here is a segment of my fic that explains some stuff:

Leo, and Marcus along with Taylor and Logan Krane made up Team Francis pronounced Team Danger for some reason. They had been Mission Creeks B team after the original Daven-kids. But those guys had fucked off to go dick around in Centium City with some characters of who's “identities are highly confidential” a few months back.

This left Team Francis to be the front line and by extension some graduations at the island got pushed up to fill their vacant spot. Spin, Bob and his brother Daniel, made up what Leo referred to as Mission Creeks C team: Team Tots. Leo had been pretty fussy finding out they had to leave the safety of Mission Creek up to the Tots when they left but Marcus was pretty confident in Spin's ability to lead. So off they all went to Seaford…

I think Kai would only be allowed to know all the ins and outs if he and Marcus got married.

Which would not happen unless they both went through immense psychological therapy. They are both so deeply flawed with so much implied trauma there is no way in hell. Like reading my fic even in its draft form you can just feel all the manipulation and lack of emotional vulnerability and sense of healthy boundaries leaking from the both of them. (That's why its called a hate story)

They don't love each other in my fic. They are obsessed and crazy. Just like the originals LMAO.

If Kai found out tho he'd be less interested and more of a bully about it. My interpretation of him is older (21) and " reformed" that just means he blocked off all his violent tendencies behind a wall ,without working through them, that Marcus cracks so hes dealing with a barrage of emotions mentally while keeping a cold and unbothered exterior.

Non-cannon scene:

He'd been thinking about it for a while and he'd finally decided to do it.

“ Hey? Uh…K?”

"What." Kai didn’t even glance up, scrolling through his phone.

"Yeah… I—K, I need to tell you something," Marcus spat out, his voice a little off.

"You’re pregnant? Or are you secretly a wizard?" Kai tossed out, completely nonchalant. "Please tell me you’re a wizard, Davenport. That’d be fuckin’ hilarious."

Marcus sighed "No. I’m a Bionic android. My cousins are Adam, Bree, and Chase. I go on secret missions all the time and that's why I came to Seaford in the first place.” he sped out in one breath.

That made Kai stop scrolling. For a brief moment, his brain didn’t register the words, but then he looked at Marcus, deadpan, still not moving a muscle.

"Wait, what the fuck… Are you shitting me?" Kai raised an eyebrow, staring at him like he'd just said he was allergic to air. "Did you just say you're a robot?"

"An android," Marcus corrected..

Kai snorted. "Whatever, same difference. So, you’re telling me you’re like one of those fancy-ass Roombas but with feelings and… well, you look a hell of a lot better than a Roomba." He gave Marcus a once-over. "You don’t exactly scream ‘I’m a super advanced killing machine.’"

Marcus blinked.

“You’re really not freaking out?” Marcus asked, voice edging on frustration.

Kai shrugged, tossing his phone on the couch beside him.

“Really? I mean.. K?” Marcus crossed his arms, trying to look unimpressed but definitely feeling a little weird inside. “You're not even surprised? No ‘what the hell’ moment? I'm related to the most famous people of modern days?”

Kai looked at him for a long second before his lips curled into a smirk. “I mean, I did wonder why you always avoided using a microwave. Now it makes sense. So, are you, like, a secret government experiment, or did you just get bored one day and decide to live among humans, pretending to be one of us?”

“I'm not pretending, and I don't use the microwave because it's an inferior way of reheating food.” Marcus shot back quickly. “I’m just— Hey! I told you what I'm doing here! And my DAD made me, not the government.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, whatever Daven-dork,” Kai interrupted, rolling his eyes. “Alright, so, you’re an android. Cool. Want me to start calling you 'Siri' or 'C-3PO' or should I go full 'Terminator' and start waiting for you to go rogue and destroy the world? Hasta la vista baby, right?"

Marcus was so flustered now, his usual cocky attitude slipping. “That was just a phase… I'm over that no-!”

“Just a phase? Sure buddy, just think about how good of a kisser I am when you decide to usurp the status quo… ” Kai said, cutting him off with a yawn. “Look, I don’t care if you’re some high-tech toaster. Just don’t start malfunctioning while we’re making out and electrocute me alright?”

“Okay?? I guess,” Marcus muttered, glancing away a little embarrassed.

Kai shifted, half-laying across the couch, his feet now casually resting on Marcus’s lap. “ Don’t start short-circuiting or glitching out either Davenport. I don’t need you flipping into ‘robot rage’ and throwing me through a wall or whatever.”

Marcus glared at him. “I’m not going to ‘short-circuit.` And you say that as if you don't throttle me in the Dojo every chance you get.”

"Please," Kai interrupted with a dramatic roll of his eyes. " All those times we’ve sparred… You were holding out while also beating me and you're just now telling me? That’s rich. Anyway, just don’t start malfunctioning, isn't that simple for your computer brain? I’m already dealing with your constant need for affection—I don’t need you literally shorting out my Wi-Fi.”

Marcus opened his mouth, a retort on the tip of his tongue, but instead, all that came out was a frustrated sigh. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you tolerate me, so deal with it, ‘R2-D2.’” Kai grinned, then, as if the revelation of Marcus being an android wasn’t that big of a deal, he leaned over and playfully ruffled Marcus’s hair. “Also, if you’re a robot, can I get an upgrade? Like, one where you don’t constantly annoy me?”

“Maybe upgrade your lip action too. That shits so ass” he muttered

“I’m not a robot!” Marcus groaned, slapping his hand away. “And I kiss great!”

Kai grinned. "Yeah okay buddy sure. You should be more grateful, Marcus. No one else would put up with your roboass. Just don’t go rogue on me or I’ll have to destroy you. I’m not getting a warranty on you anytime soon.”

Marcus shot him a glare “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a bionic android who could probably download a kissing app and you still suck at it. I guess we balance each other out. ”

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Tanuki

CR 4

Chaotic Neutral Medium Monstrous Humanoid

Bestiary 3, pg. 259

These mischievous, fun-loving, shapeshifting raccoons are far less violent or angry than the one displayed by the actual art, preferring trickery and music to brawls and battle. Fittingly enough, it's often believed that a Tanuki is born from the proto-soul that comes to inhabit any well-loved and well-used tool or appliance that manages to last a whole 100 years while still being used (an origin story that may be accurate or may yet be refuted when new canon material comes out later this year), so it's very likely that most Tanuki are generally decent folk, depending on which tool they were born from.

small annoyance before we continue: I'm a bit miffed that Paizo didn't give the Tanuki their ability to transform into inanimate objects (though they allude to it in their lore block), but it's an easy enough fix for a DM that wants to let them have one of their more famous features. We will uh. we will not be discussing their most famous feature anywhere on this blog. paizo wisely decided to leave that out.

Anyway, these amusing little raccoons live for the moment, spending their days merry and their nights curled up in the comfiest beds they can find, working to fill their lives and the lives of everyone around them with fun and food. While they can freely shapeshift into the form of a mundane raccoon, they're more likely using their 1/day Veil to masquerade as a humanoid, slipping into civilization to partake in whatever fun and festivities they can find. If they cannot find any, though, by god will they make some, utilizing their 3/day Major Creation to conjure whatever gems and gold they need to pay for it and their 1/day Create Food and Water to whip up some meager but filling fare. That this conjured money disappears an hour or so later is of no consequence to the trickster, who expects to either be long gone or too drunk to care by then. They frequent bars and eateries, exchanging songs and stories for food and drink as they look through the crowds for potential marks.

Not to steal from, mind, but to mess with. Tanuki enjoy humbling braggarts, humiliating bullies, pranking those they've judged as evil, and joking about with the dour and brooding for the entertainment of not only themselves, but whatever friends they've made for the night. Their goal is good times, after all, and anyone who sours the mood can find themselves at the tail end of whatever ridiculous scheme the Tanuki has hatched to maximize the day's joy. Though the book mentions their ability to turn weapons and tools into harmless items like teapots and cutlery, they do not possess this power in the game proper, but what they DO have is Shrink Item 1/day to collapse the first sword brought against them into a toothpick or, even more pettily, transforming the chair or table some stuck-up schmuck is sitting at into a washcloth and watching them tumble to the ground.

Shrink Item obviously has utility beyond this for the Tanuki with its days-long duration, but using it to mess with people is their go-to. Its other primary use is allowing the little raccoon men to hide weapons in unexpected places, typically having their primary weapon--a quarterstaff--masquerading as a straw stuck in their mouth, woven into their hair, or used as one half of a set of chopsticks. It's rarely brought out with the intent to kill, the Tanuki more likely to fight defensively or battle for only a few rounds as an opponent makes a fool of themselves and the little spirit can dance about and drink as it avoids their blows, but they can be startlingly vicious in combat when it comes to it.

Tanuki can wallop someone twice with each end of their staff for 1d6+2 and 1d6+1 damage a round, then quickly spin around and give them an extra slap with their sturdy tails or shoulder-check them for an additional 1d6+1 damage... but it's rarely going to stay at base numbers. Remember what I said about them drinking during battle? They have a reason to. Tanuki carry around special gourds at their side that always seem to be full of delicious sake while in their hands, and as a swift action they can drink from these gourds to gain any one of the following spell effects at will: Haste (for more AC and extra attacks), Rage (for additional damage at the cost of AC), False Life (for a chunk of long-lasting temporary HP; typically they've already done this hours ago), or Divine Favor (for +2 to attack and damage rolls). The book notes that Tanuki with more HD or class levels can gain different or more powerful spells from their sake bottles, essentially handing the DM a blank check to give them literally whatever advantage they want in case Haste + Divine Favor isn't enough to turn the tides.

This isn't without cost, as one may expect. Sake is strong stuff, and though a Tanuki's Sake Affinity blesses them with powerful magic, it also lowers their AC and their Reflex saves by 1 for one minute per drink they take, and these penalties stack with themselves. They trade their defenses for offensive power, and with only 17 AC and +5/+7/+6 as their defenses (no resistances or immunities!), they have to be sure that their offense is as powerful as possible to dissuade their targets from going further. Often, one just needs to reduce a Tanuki to about half or so HP before it cuts its losses and flees, very few willing to fight to the death for any cause, but be wary of turning your back to it once it starts running, because it's got Magic Stone 3/day and a sling to huck the enchanted pebbles to get in a few painful (and dangerous) parting shots once your defenses are down.

Some side notes before we close out: Tanuki have a constant Detect Poison on themselves, which at first seems to be there to combo with their at-will Purify Food and Drink, but PFaD is actually there to keep their travel rations created from Create Food and Water shelf-stable for as long as they need. The TRUE purpose of Detect Poison is to give the Tanuki a beer radar, because all alcohol is classified as a poison in Pathfinder. They're basically bloodhounds for booze!

You can read more about them here.

[knowltonsrangers]

The cutest thing just popped into my head: ben tallmadge x female reader where the reader is from the modern world and is stuck in colonial america so she doesn’t know how to put on a corset and is struggling af. she’s at the continental camp and ben notices out of the flap of her tent that she’s struggling so he walks into her tent and decides to help her lace up her corset and then does her hair in a braid (bc it’s down which was like considered immodest back then) HEHEKSJSJAJWKSJKAS and there’s hella tension n stuff between em and ben can’t help but admire her long hair down and the feel of it ykyk yeah thank u i love ur fics sm <333

TURN!Benjamin Tallmadge x reader

[a/n: aw, this is absolutely adorable! tysm for the request, I hope I did it justice!]

Ben ambled throughout the camp, pacing along the row of tents with his hands clasped behind his back. Every time he heard the flap of a tent open, his blue eyes would bounce to his own tent, hopeful that you would emerge dressed, and yet, it would be another officer going on with their day.

“Oh, for crying out loud—“

His boots meet the dirt in a dramatic manner, storming over to his tent, not quite sure what to be expecting, but it was most certainly not you struggling to lace a corset.

Staring in the entrance, hand pulling the flap back, he’s left stood completely still for a moment, then he clears his throat loudly.

“How long must this take you?”

In return, you yelp, your back to the tent opening. You were never expecting someone to be standing right there.

“Why?! Why did you just do that?”

Your heart clamps over your heart, in an attempt to qualm its fast beating.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, I’m sorry. But, haven’t you ever…?”

Ben notices your hands, and the messy loops, how you’ve been struggling for the past ten minutes trying to figure out the right way to lace the bodice.

“No, why would I? You found me in joggers and t-shirt,”

You deadpan, mirroring Ben’s expression as he sighs, letting the tent close behind him so the two of you are enveloped in complete privacy.

“May I?”

Your cheeks burn red, the tips of your ears as well, but you nod, spinning around once more as the officer approaches, gently undoing all the terrible knots you had made prior.

“You are aware I don’t entirely believe you about your nonsense, right?”

“Please. If this doesn’t prove it, I don’t know what will,”

Ben lifts your hair so it drapes over your right shoulder, out of the way as he begins to lace and weave the ribbon down the bodice.

“Your story is infuriating, but infatuating. I would be lying if I said that I don’t appreciate your story-telling.”

You gasp when he pulls it just too tight, your eyes blinking rapidly as he continues.

“Your stubbornness is infuriating, as well.”

Once he’s satisfied, you spin around, glancing up at the Major as he lets his hands fall to his sides.

“Thank you,”

“Not necessary. Though, you have to do something about that.”

He gestures to your hair, now back over your shoulder as it lays down along your back.

“Can you do it in a cute little braid like yours?”

It was a joke, you had all intentions to put it in a bun atop your head like so many ladies you’d seen around the camp, but Ben sighs, motioning for you to spin around once more.

Your mouth flubs, ready to tell him it was a reflex comment-and yet, the feeling of his calloused palms and soft fingertips running through your hair makes you snap your mouth shut.

“This is a customary hairstyle, I don’t understand why you must make fun of it.”

“It was just a joke, I’ll keep them on the DL from now on.”

Ben makes a face at the ‘DL’ comment, but doesn’t ask what it means.

“May I ask you something?”

“Sure, y/n.”

“If you really don’t believe me, why are you going to all this trouble?”

Ben hums, quickening his motions as the braid begins to descend down your back.

“I’ve determined you are no spy, when you didn’t even know which one was the Lieutenant.”

“I can’t tell all those uniforms apart, who could—“

“Like I said, a portion of me believes you. Maybe you just hit your head too hard and don’t know where you are. Maybe you’re telling the truth.”

“I am, but I’ll do whatever it takes to convince you, Major.”

There’s a bout of silence, and right when you feel him go to tie your hair with a ribbon, you offer him your hair tie over your shoulder.

“I’d like you to use this, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Ben says nothing but it takes him a good minute to figure out how to use it, and tie it securely into your hair.

“Thanks. Maybe it’ll keep me sane for a bit longer.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy, y/n. But I am enamored by your…way of doing things.”

The pink color returns to your ears, and you turn slightly, watching the way Ben takes a hesitant step back, admiring his work.

“Best to get you to the General.”

Your stomach flips, palms sweaty as he goes to exit the tent.

“If you don’t believe me, what makes you think the General will?”

“General Washington? He’s…he’s very good at listening.”

Ben misses the way your jaw falls open, mumbling about how on earth any of this was real, your shoes sinking in the soft dirt as you scramble after him.

[rom-e-o]

So the girls having regular lunch dates with their brother-in-laws because, ya know, we STAN family bonding moments. But like, what if the paparazzi does what it always does and spins its web of rumors and lies and claim the couples are cheating with each other's spouses. And of course it's ridiculous, so Bess and Connie are just like, "... What if we troll them?" And they start a fake feud with each other over their social media and through interviews that they do. But it's never really consistent. Like, 7/10 times they are communicating and posting regularly and they're besties and soul-sisters, but then when a "story" drops about them being "unfaithful" they're making passive aggressive comments to each other on Twitter or "calling each other out" in their interviews.

"Now, Mrs. Scrooge, I don't know if you've been listening to the grapevine lately, but rumor has it your husband has been stepping out on you with, none other than, your sister-in-law."

"Ah. I'm afraid I have heard. And I'm glad you brought it up, because there is a few things I'd like to say about the situation. In fact I'd like to address them to my dear, dear sister-in-law. And, actually, I think I gave your team the most recent picture of them together. Can we pull that up? Because some of the things I'd like to address are in the picture.

"Ah, yes, there we are. Now, first of all, can I just say that this is a lovely picture? It's done very well. Both of them look wonderful in it. And those shoes--do you see those shoes that she's wearing? Yeah, those are mine. I lent them to her a year ago and they've been in her closet since then. Also, that jacket is mine too--, she's had that for about 3 months. And, full disclosure, that hairstyle was my suggestion for her to try. So, I mean, the whole point of being the mistress is offering the man something he's not getting at home, right? Well, he'd HAVE this at home if she just gave me my stuff back. Point is, honey, it's not really you he wants, it's the stuff of mine that you have that he wants."

And certain public spaces FLIP OUT over this little charade. 🤣

Okay, first of all, we ABSOLUTELY stan positive family bonding in this house. The Twins have sisterly figures back in their lives, and they sink back into that brotherly role so easily. The girls also get to enjoy it - Bess gets an older big brother figure to vent to (after years of being THE breadwinner/mother figure) and Connie gets another sibling figure (alongside Bess as a sister) to chat and share interests with. Plus, Wolf is a little more feral as a brother, so that’s fun for a woman who has been a prim little socialite forever.

Secondly, YESSSS. I can absolutely see them having fun trolling these paparazzi for coming up with this fake beef between them. I mean … if that’s what they want, the ladies are more than keen to give it to them. 😏

This interview happens, and they ambush Connie outside the nail salon for a follow-up.

“Mrs. DoGoode-Scrooge, are the rumors true? Are you fraternizing with your brother-in-law?”

“Have you read the recent interview from your sister-in-law? Do you have a response?”

“Cn you confirm her statements, or do you deny them?”

And she’s like, “Oh? Oh! I did. Her little statement about the shoes? It’s true. She does have impeccable style. And my hair as well? Yes, she absolutely recommended the style to me. Do you like it?”

“…it’s very nice, but that was NOT the question.”

“Oh. Well, what are you trying to get me to admit? … That I’m fraternizing with my brother-in-law? Well, how blunt. You know, I’m actually going to meet him for lunch right now. You all should tag along. If you want the scoop, that is.” 🤭

Then they follow her from the nail salon to … a restaurant. With her husband waiting up front. Huh. And he’s waiting with … Ebenezar and his wife Bess? And she gives ALL of them hugs and cheek kisses. HUH? No? NO, that’s not how this is supposed to go! That’s not good drama for the paper! 🤬

[lynxgriffin]

Hi Lynx! It's the No Sleep O'Clock Comic-Binge Anon again. (I did sleep after sending you that ask. Don't worry.) Hope you're doing well and having a pleasant... uh... whatever time it is when you see this. This ask is a little long but I couldn't stop gushing and couldn't figure where I should trim. I hope you don't mind.

I wound up focusing on Dogs and finished that first in my spare time. I'm a bit of a weirdo who loves cut content and all kinds of tiny obscure details in any setting so when everything hit the ground? Gorgeous. Beautiful. Wonderful. Like, I knew everything would end well because the Tone was very much Canon (goofy and fun, if at times a little hOLY-) but there were definitely some moments throughout the story had Concern. Origins? ...yikes. And the end? I did not see that coming. Or the post-ending stuff; those were very sweet and some more bittersweet. I wanna meet some fictional adults. Just talk, I swear. (pay no attention to the tough glove.)

I'm currently about... still kinda early in Paper Trail. Just hit Ch4. Again it feels strongly in Tone while being its own unique spin on things. It veers in very different territory as it was pre-Ch2 but things are fun and very cool. The Anagram Crayon Gotes are an interesting spin as well as them being... very much their colors. (Also RIP Kris and Susie. Y'all keep "delinquenting" but honestly who in Hometown's gonna believe this Shounen Anime plot?) Did NOT expect that fight; some pieces had me in stitches. This is a very wild ride and I can't wait to see where it goes. Actually all the fights look like they'd be fun encounters in the game proper. Kudos on that.

Thank you for your hard work with both stories. The sheer amount of effort not only in laying out the plot but drawing it all and keeping at it? I am always impressed and delighted.

I hope keeping it vague like this helps prevent spoilers for any latecomers / lapsed readers while still making sense. Good night!

Ahh sheesh, thank you for the very long and detailed ask! Also, I'm glad that you enjoyed DOFP and all the extra content for it, too! :D Especially glad to hear you thought it got the tone down well, I always feel like that's such a tricky thing to get!

Also thank you for the kind words on PT so far! Also glad that you thought the fight scenes worked well!

Thank you again for the long comment, I super appreciate it! :D

[sparingiscaring]

Melancholy is Increasing…

You are walking down Wolfstack Docks, and you’re not sure why. You’ve outgrown this place, and the Zee beyond - so why did your feet lead you here? And why are you so compelled to linger even now?

Featuring: Zee Beasts, Memory Issues, and the Melancholy of the Endgame

Word Count: 2385 Words

Content Warnings: Game-typical descriptions of Violence (specifically monster-hunting)

@fallenlondonficswap

Happy Ficswap, everyone! @existentialcrisisetcetera, I had the honor of writing for your Secret Swap. I had a lot of fun with this one - when the inspiration hits, it hits, y'know? I hope it resonates with you, too!

You’re not quite sure what you’re doing here.

Wolfstack Docks is a place you used to be familiar with. Heavy faces on broad-shouldered frames pass, faces scored with the deep lines of wrinkles worn in well before their time. As one man passes close by, a bundle of rope wrapped around his arm, you catch the stench of alcohol on his breath - acrid, and following him in a miasma as he walks not away from, but towards the ships that crowd every inch of this place. 

It’s impossible to blame the man for enjoying every second of his shore leave. You’d have done the same, if you were in his shoes. You spare him a second glance - and catch the unmistakable color of bone, hanging from the end of his rope. If you still wore his shoes.

Maybe that is why you were here.

Even now, you can see Watchmaker’s Hill, just over the Stolen River, the Observatory standing tall and proud at its peak. Maybe you’d come to visit the old stomping grounds. Visit the Medusa’s head, and listen to it’s sorry lot tell tales about the Vake, or head to the Department just a short walk away. For old time’s sake?

Sure, most of the faces will different, but you know the types at the Medusa’s Head - those at the bar, a little too eager to bend your ear and spin a story about what they’ve seen in the Marshes just beyond the civilization of London and how they scared it away at the last possible moment, while those at the tables listen in with a sceptical twist to their frowns, and the man in the corner who laughs too loud, and a glass and rag in hand behind the bar, twisting and polishing. It’ll be caught in time. It’ll be just like you left it. 

It’ll be just like you left it.

You turn around, and let your eyes fall into an unfocused haze, scanning. A sign - a pub sign. Without a second thought, you step towards the threshold. Not the Blind Helmsman - God only knows how that place will be the same as you left it, maybe even worse than Medusa’s. No, you’d never been inside this place, never outgrown it. 

It’s a bad time to be at the pub, if you’d have wanted to meet the regulars. If this place even had regulars. The bar itself was empty, with banged-up stools all wasting away without some drunk to fill the space or a fight to be weaponry for, and glasses sitting on their lips, unpolished and collecting a heavy layer of particulate in the absence of the barkeep. Even the shadows on the wall look hollow and empty, without someone to fill them in anticipation of some secret meeting. Even the walls look hollow, covered with trinkets and trophies of names and faces you’d never seen and coated in a thick layer of dust. It is, in your humble opinion, perhaps the least interesting place in all of London. It's only novelty, if you can call it that, is not even the fact that it is new. It’s the fact that it's new to you.

And you sit down at the bar. After all, new was better, even if it was as nothing a place as this.

Nothing has been new to you in a long time. 

You didn’t notice when it happened - there was no instant, no realization that you’d done it all, no sigils lighting up the cavern ceiling in Correspondence that translated to “You can go die forever now!” It was a creeping, dawning thing, as far as your pitiful memory can conjure up to tell you. Not so far back as to when you descended into London - no, you had bright eyes then, bright eyes and a sound (enough?) mind, and you looked at the curiosities of this city with wonder. Still can remember your first cat-catch, can’t you? Even if the secret you earned is long forgotten?

You felt something even more special when you first found your way to Watchmaker’s. You felt something alive when it was Wolfstack.

Ah, that you do remember, and you remember it well. Blood on your knuckles, and a ribbon clenched tight in your fist. You remember duels, you remember Unions and Strikebreakers, you remember the overwhelming smell of the salt of the Zee clinging to the sides of ships being pulling into port, and you remember the groan of wood and fiber and metal as you witnessed the miracle of a ship, suspended for just a moment, to suffer the curse of being landbound as forms with rough hands and rougher laughs set about fixing whatever was wrong with the old girl.

You remember the woman with a body like a waterlogged corpse staring up at you from the edge of the water that night, and you remember the drunken zailor you’d never seen before, stumbling out of a bar and telling you to jam your fingers in your ear before “that thing” starts singing. You hadn’t even known what a Drownie was, then. You knew nothing the Zee had to offer up to you, except for whatever half-true tales managed to be popular enough to escape the pubs and bars and disseminate into the wider London.

Nowadays, Drownies don’t scare you.

You’re sure one could, if they were particularly stealthy and then particularly loud, but… you knew Drownies. You’d seen a lobster fisherman with a twinkle in his eye become one just a few years ago - witnessed every part of his transformation, spoke to him afterwards. You’d satiated a being with a mind far beyond your own, with his help. It was hard to feel that twinkle in your own eye when you had to appease it a second time. Harder to fear what he’d become, when you knew all the ways one could (and could not) ward off their songs. Harder still to fear becoming them, when the Fathom King refused to keep you.

The chill of the glass between your palms breaks you from your recollection for a moment. How many times have you died at Zee?

… you remember the first time. The Fathom King’s Court. The offering you gave, hoping to surface a little better off than you entered, as he weighed your worth, your influence on the scale of London, and deemed you worth returning. What killed you? It’d been a…

Right. Teeth, scales, water. You remember now. And you remember what followed.

Mutiny. Madness. Drowned. One you preferred not to speak about in polite company. Once, many unfortunate things happened all at once. Almost comical, really.

Glim-Fall was the worst. Glim-Fall had nearly broken you for a time. You… even if you wanted to go to Zee this instant, to ride the dark waves once more, you would still refuse to sail under the flag of a Corsair for all the bad luck it has brought you before. At least you knew what you did wrong when your crew ate you.

The deaths were worth it, though, impossible as it would sound to someone still able to walk the Surface. Still worth it, because where else could someone feel what you felt, standing on the deck of a ship that barely managed to float for the first time, one hand on the rough hewn of rope, and the other wrapped around the perfectly-weighted harpoon in your hand. Nothing felt right like that did. Nothing excites you like watching the impossibly dark Zee, with that harpoon in your hand, your harpoon in your hand, waiting for the thing stalking you to rear its head to devour you all, all so you can strike. 

Nothing is like it. 

You remember great things, terrible things, hulking things with bodies darker than night, bodies as dark as the water. Dark as your eyes. Dark blood, pooling on the deck of your ship, dark blood pouring around the stark-white of your harpoon. You remember the chase, the hunt, the moment of calm before the strike, and you remember the final blow. That glorious, final blow, fought over what felt like lifetimes. The thrill. The triumph of it all, crescendoing into a blaring victory. You remember it. You remember it all.

You almost feel excited remembering it, until your brain catches up to your racing heart.

You also remember the feeling of knowing everything in the Zee that could harm you. Everything you could hunt. Of hunting them all, and knowing every trick in their milky, unseeing eyes. Sure, every so often the Angler Crabs would act up on their journey to spawning, but… you could only hunt so many of the bastards before even that excitement began to fade, before even the Hunt could barely be worth a single sentence in your letters to an inconveniencing aunt who insisted she must know everything about your life. 

There’s a ship out on the dock, with your crew of seasoned zailors aboard. It used to join the raids, slaughtering Angler Crabs racing towards London, threatening to overpopulate the waters and capsize ships as they sit at harbor. You never join them anymore, because you know what can happen. You know everything that can happen. Even something new will become something old, will become something routine, will become meaningless, will become something worthless in the end. It’s all meaningless in the end.

Feet stomping on the cobble outside this nothing-bar. A commotion out on the dock, the sound of meaningless talk. You should have expected the meaninglessness, really, entering a bar right off of Wolfstacks. You should know better when it comes to this place. You roll the empty glass between your palms, and tune out the noise, the dust in the air drying your mouth as you set your jaw. Is this what the Tomb Colonist’s feel like? Dry and creaky and old and bored? Is this why they fight? You’re already so tired of fighting. Fighting is old. You feel old. 

How are you more of a walking corpse than a Tomb Colonist?

You crawl over the bar, and pop the cork on a bottle of mushroom wine. You almost laugh at the year - funny coincidence, that is. That’s your year. You polish your dusty glass with a bit of your shirt, and pour yourself a drink.

Is this why you came here? To sulk, and nurse your wounds with a stolen Greyfields vintage, and think about the glory days? 

You toss a wad of Echos behind you - it should cover it, if this place ever sees the light of anyone’s eyes again. 

You feel more pathetic than the liars at the Medusa’s head - at least they told their stories, fake as they were, instead of drowning them in a bottle like you were. You feel more pathetic than the Monster Hunter you’d seen a half-hour ago, harpoon and rope around his shoulder and that stench still on his breath. Even if you wouldn’t go about such work drunk, at least he was doing it. He was still going out, and doing what brought him joy. 

Hopefully.

Hopefully he hadn’t taken to the bottle to make it feel new, like you apparently were past the point of.

The sound outside is getting louder. Your head hurts. Your memory is throbbing, again - tricky business, always. It’s why you preferred hunting at Zee - maybe it was just the madness of an old zailor, but it felt easier to remember out there. Like… like the memories you’d lost your grip on were lurking in the reflection of milky fish-eyes, and all you had to do was throw your harpoon and reel in the line, and there they’d be. It worked better than your journal, in all honesty. 

You miss it. Damn, you miss it. You can feel the salt on your tongue, overpowering acrid wine.

Outside, a man yells.  You can’t help but overhear. 

You can’t help but drop your glass, splintering into shards and dust, when you hear what the man is yelling. Decreeing. It’s childish, but… when you run outside, alcohol on your breath, you shove your way through the crowd to the tight circle surrounding the man, like a pickpocketing Urchin would. 

There’s been a Midnight Whale spotted off the shores of Port Carnelian, and she intends to die. She is old, and she sings, and she intended to die where and how she was meant to die. 

At the Gant Pole.

The man is an old zailor, with deep wrinkles on his face, and alcohol on his breath, and a bone-harpoon on a rope tossed around his shoulder. He knows Midnight Whales. He knows what will follow her on her journey - beasts, and monsters, and men befitting those classifications as they try to take her before her time is up and her destination is reached. He’s seen it before. He’ll see it again.

The Old Zailor intends to help her to her peace, but one ship can only do so much. And so, he’s asking for the help of London.

You’ve never seen a Midnight Whale up close.

Never heard one sing.

Your ship is as you left it. Crew is, too -  and the layer of dust on your bunk is as thick as that at the pub you might never see again. 

You run a thumb along the tip of your harpoon, feeling the texture of bone sharpened away to a wicked point, and you can taste the zalt of the Zee-air on your tongue. It tastes like home.

You’ll see the Midnight Whale home.

Maybe yourself, one day, when the Zee decides to see you off. If it does - the Fathom King refuses to keep you, after all, and the Boatman rows too slowly, and the Mirror-Marsh withers at the color tainting your memories. 

Maybe once you’ve seen all the Zee has to show you, those dark waters will decide to keep you.

You set a course for Port Carnelian, for the last sighting of the Midnight Whale, and lean over the railing to gaze down into the dark, dark waters. You see your face, reflected in its depth. You see its infinite vastness reflected into your eyes.

The Zee has an eternity to show you, still

You have a lifetime to chase it.

[lumsel]

Reviews of movies I watched on Qantas flights this week

Poor Things: I expected this one to be more harrowing, actually. I got that vibe from what I heard about it? It's more like a weird fairytale about sex and sexuality though. I am good friends with @utilitymonstergirl of Replacable Parts though so that may be skewing my baseline for what most people consider a shocking lmao. I like how totally blase it is about its own problematic elements, it never blinks or tries to justify itself in any way, it just goes "lmao check this shit out". Refreshing in a moment that feels marked by overbearing didacticism in media. Not to say this movie doesn't have a very clear Point, mind you, which is basically "stop being weird about sexuality", but it tells that Point with a level of focus and confidence that I find satisfying.

Oppenheimer: There's a few seriously eye-rolly moments in here, like the one where he says the I Am Become Death line while his mistress is mid-insertion, but it's like a single digit number in a three hour movie. Very well paced too, it did not at all feel like three hours. I really like how it uses the language of film to get you understanding why Oppenheimer made the seemingly contradictory decisions he did during his career. When Oppenheimer is building a nuke, you're biting your teeth like "oh man, I hope Oppie builds this nuke in time!" And when he's trying to stop them from building more nukes, you're like "oh jeez, I hope Oppie can stop these nukes getting built!" Despite the expansive and star studded cast, this really does feel like a movie primarily interested in getting you to understand this one dude specifically, and I really respect it for that.

That One DnD Movie: Fun!!! It's a little jank, and the exposition can feel clunky, but it was a fun movie overall. God, though... the second act sucks so much ass. I feel like this happens a lot in movies, where the first and third acts are where the substantive parts of the narrative happen, but the second act feels like the plot is spinning its wheels while we set up the climax. This one is particularly bad where the cast just takes a sidequest in the middle of the movie to grab some inconsequential artefact and nothing that happens in that sequence matters particularly much. Anyway, fun as this movie was, I almost forgot entirely to add it to this list of reviews, which probably

Anatomy of a Fall: Yeah this was good. Very good-movie coded, like the foreign films I always see my mum and dad watching when I'm cleaning up after dinner at their place. I feel I don't even have much to say on this one because it basically just executed everything it was trying to execute efficiently and without any jarring mistakes. You can tell from pretty early on that this is gonna be one of those stories where you never find out the Real Truth of what happened, although I found one of the sides to have a broadly weaker case and I'm not sure if that was intended.

Dream Scenario: Ultimately was disappointed by this one. Thought there was gonna be a multilayered metaphor underlying this one but it turned out to be a pretty shallow piece on social media fame framed around some dude who really wants to cheat on his wife. Let down by the synopsis, I spose. I think the constituent parts work at cross purposes and make the movie undermine itself a little: the kafkaesque surreal horror is harder to feel the depth of when the protagonist is so obviously a shithead, but the unsympathetic protagonist is less compelling when the things that happen to him are an inexplicable nightmare scenario rather than his own decisions taking him down a dark path. There'd be a way to make it work but honestly I don't think this movie was pretentious enough to pull it off. It needed to be willing to get weirder and harder to parse with it rather than keep everything so broad and crowd-pleasing.

TMNT Mutant Mayhem: I liked a lot of things about this movie. The pacing is fantastic, and I found the character writing to actually be quite good. I actually found myself quite liking the density of pop culture references, because yeah, that's how teenagers talk. Makes it feel more real. And the animation. I'm glad more animated movies are incorporating actual fight choreography these days because it fucking whips every time. Unfortunately it really fell apart by the end for me because the pacing gets janked up to hell and it starts cramming in way too many unearned character moments. Something about it got kind of unbearable for me personally, I just stopped watching the movie.

Labyrinth: Technically a rewatch, but last time I saw this one I was like single digit aged. Thoroughly it despite it being structurally a mess. It's basically just Jim Henson's Creature Shop coming up with various Situations to put our protagonist into, threaded together in a very loose framework of a plot. The lead is not that good at acting, the jokes rarely made me laugh out loud, and yet! I was smiling the whole time through. There's an interesting contrast to the DnD movie for me, where that one has a fine first act, an awful second act, and a fine third act with divisions between them so sharp you can hear a clunk when the gears shift, Labyrinth is pretty much 80% second act, with a bit of intro at the start and a quick bit at the end to wrap it up. Makes it feel like a very storybook fairytale type of story, and I love that for it! And, unlike the DnD movie... I don't think I'm likely to forget I watched this one a week from now :P

[gingerlurk]

Lovers' Crest | Chapter 2: The Mechanic

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Summary: You get to know the Crest, surprising the hell out of your host.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), canon-typical violence, eventual smut/filth, post season 3, canon-typical violence, Reader has hair long enough for a braid. uhhhh please advise if there's more to add here thank you

A/N: Hi! To say again, I am completely new here. I am just a struggling writer with a brittle heart and this little story has lifted me out of a block the size of a small moon (that's no moon). Here on A03, I just got encouraged to share here. And in terms of Star Wars canon and mechanics stuff, I'm just making it up, friends. Hoping it's still a fun story like its inspo.

--

‘Dank farrik,’ he – Mando – mutters, punching at the pad until it lights up.

The ship had been cruising at sublight for a while, you assume so that your pilot could chart out courses or whatever. Navigation was never your strong suit.

‘I will need to make a stop,’ he says. It’s not apparent whether he’s talking to you or himself. ‘These blast corners are not going to last the journey.’

You sit up. What are you doing? You ask, ‘Do you have the parts?’ 

‘Yes,’ he says absently. ‘But it is a specialised process. In cases like this, I take the Crest to a dock.’

‘I could replace them.’ Shut up.

He doesn’t register you for a long beat. Then looks over his shoulder. ‘What?’

‘I can replace them for you.’ You can’t stop yourself. 

‘And you know,’ your eyes roll around the cockpit. Why are you about to say this? Keep it to yourself. But you’d been noting little things to keep yourself occupied and, for some reason you don’t scrutinise too closely, you want to let this guy see you for who you are.

‘That transition from atmo would go a lot smoother if your power didn’t have to divert through the drag shafts. A little rigging, a simple program, and it can pass straight through the core. Smooth as.’ 

His whole upper body turns toward you. 

‘And,’ you lean forward, ‘I bet those thrusters were last serviced on Navarro?’

A heavy pause.

‘They were.’

You sniff, knowingly. ‘Don’t get me wrong – can’t fault those mechanics much – but for some reason they insist on four cylinders for every row. Is it cultural? I don’t know. But it just gums up the rotation. You only need two.’

Finally, he rotates his chair, facing you. He leans forward on his elbows.

‘How do you know all this?’ You hear what he doesn’t verbalise, You’re a wealthy, spoiled heiress who’s never known a day’s work.

You just keep a level look on your face. ‘I’d rather keep that to myself, if it’s all the same. Cards close to the chest and all that. But I can be more helpful than just sitting here. I can help out around here, show your ship some love.’

He huffs and leans back. ‘Right.’ He turns back to the console.

‘Okay,’ he comes to a decision. ‘I have to pick someone up anyway. We will land and you can make the replacements while I retrieve him.’ You’re wondering to yourself who this ‘him’ is when Mando spins back around, you jump a little. His voice is fierce. ‘But if you mess up my ship, I will leave you on the most backwater planet I can find. And Mandalorians have extensive nav maps.’

He turns.

Mandalorians? Hm.

--

The sense of relief felt at seeing the child Grogu again is still thrilling to the buttoned up Mandalorian. The kid is cooing in Peli’s embrace, who in turn chatters away. But the moment he clocks Din walking toward him, the child reaches up and – whoosh – is in his arms again.

‘Hi Grogu,’ Din’s smiling behind the mask, ‘were you good?’

‘Total angel!’ Peli shouts. ‘Bye baby!’

When he returns to the ship an hour later, with provisions and a babbling kid, he’s expecting to see you fumbling around an input hatch. But you’re nowhere to be seen.

Din turns to his son. ‘Grogu, there is a person on the ship. I am confident she is no threat to us, so do not worry, but please play nice.’

The baby squints and blows a mischievous little raspberry. Din sighs, oh well.

But where were you? Hells, if he’s lost her already…

He scans the hatches that house the blast corners; they are all neatly clipped in place. Even the one that had always stuck out a bit and would rattle in dodgy atmo entry was sealed flush against the hull.

He frowns. 

On entering the ship, he hears the quiet hiss of the fresher. She’s helped herself to his amenities? Damn Maker, he thinks. His resentment lessens considerably though when he drops into his cockpit chair, the child wandering up behind him, and engages the test switch for the blasts. The light flips on instantly. The diagnostic scans green. The diagnostic never scans green.

He’s staring so hard at the panel that your bright ‘Hey!’ from behind makes him jolt.

You’re pulling damp hair into a loose side braid, strolling into his space.

‘Sorry, that was oily work and I figured a wash up was a fair trade,’ you’re saying. You seem like you’ll go on but you trail off when you spot Grogu, who for his part is giving you his most doe-like, glossy-eyed stare. ‘Hi there…’

But Din’s distracted. She’d changed all four corners with enough time to spare for a jet stream? And they were responding better than they ever had? In the whole time he’s owned the Crest?

‘Woooo, hahaha, oh wow you’re a cutie!’

Your voice brings him back to himself and he’s stunned again to see you kneeling by Grogu, the both of you laughing and playful as you swing the bottom of your braid while he tries to catch it. The kid’s giggling. 

Grogu catches your braid, you let him, and toys at it tentatively, cooing away. You look up at Din, smiling.

‘This who you had to pick up?’

‘Yes,’ Din barely gets the words out. ‘This is my son, Grogu.’

You look back to the gremlin who has your hair. ‘Hi Grogu, charming name you have.’

Grogu looks up at you with a happy ‘ahh!’ and drops your braid.

Din doesn’t know how to feel about any of this.

The innocuous little light blips in his palm. He glares at the fob while an internal battle rages. It is a bad idea, but Din knows in his gut he probably won’t get a better opportunity than this one. A huge bounty so elusive he’d been carrying the damn – infuriatingly silent – fob with him for an age.

Now here it was, blinking to life. He looks over at you.

You’re snoozing in the flight chair, elbow crooked on the arm rest and knees tucked in. He’s remained perplexed by how at home you’ve looked on his ship. Not only that, you’re a savant with the thing. You’d made good on adjusting the exit power flow already, and the Crest was practically singing for it.

You’re nothing like what he was expecting. But you were still a job he had to finish. No question there. 

This bounty though… 

As if sensing his fitful inner conflict, you stir. Rolling your head up and rubbing sleep from your eyes, you hum to yourself.

‘Mm, hey, sorry. Didn’t mean to doze off there,’ you say, sitting straight. You take in the ship’s stationary mooring, systems in standby. ‘Where are we?’

‘Nowhere special,’ he says. ‘But…’ 

You clock the blinking fob he’s holding. ‘Ooh, that a job?’ 

You seem… all lit up by it, Din thinks. Worlds but you are strange.  

Without any real fight left, the war inside him ebbs and he gives in to the pull.

‘It is, a big one,’ he holds out the fob. ‘It’s not far from here, and should not take me long. I will lock down the ship; you will be completely safe.’ 

You sit forward. ‘I could come with,’ you say, eagerness in your voice.

‘Absolutely not!’ He stands, scandalised by the idea. ‘You will stay here, in the cockpit, until I return.’

He may have laced his tone with too much menace, because you lean back in the chair and drop your gaze. 

Regretting it, he sighs and drops back into his flight seat, turning to the controls. ‘Your safety is more important,’ he whispers. You stay quiet on the descent and landing.

It’s only when Din summons Grogu to his side as he readies that you speak up.

‘You’re taking him?’ you exclaim. ‘Your kid?’

‘He is in training,’ Din says, offering no further explanation. Grogu, for his part, wanders over to you, babbling away. He reaches up and touches your knee; you lean down and scratch his ear, mumbling something like ‘keep him out of trouble then, hm?’

Din takes in the scene, something pricking at his chest.

‘Grogu, let’s go.’ He turns and knows the child will follow.

Just this job, he tells himself. Then he’ll take her home.

- - 

Listening to the whir and grind of so many locking mechanisms engage and clunk into place settles a weary sense of dread over you. You’ve been here before, stripped of volition and made to stay in place.

You decide to be bored and restless instead of anxious and afraid.

Looking about the tiny space, your eyes land on the code pad by the door. You’d noticed the release switch catches a little, and Mando has to jab at it twice or thrice each time it’s used. You can fix that.

Casting about, you find a little stash of tools under Mando’s seat. Perfect.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t take much time and you end up dithering a little, readjusting the light sensor as well so it actually responds to input. 

Just as you’re tucking the pad’s cover back into place, a long slick of ice slides down your spine as the ship groans. The lockdown is disengaging.

‘He can’t have been that quick,’ you say aloud. 

You move to the front of the ship and spot two gruff and burly henchmen striding toward the Crest. A glance at the ship HUD shows the ramp to the hold gliding open, lowering steadily to let the invaders inside.

‘How’d you get onto this ship,’ you spit a few minutes later, wiping a bound wrist at your bloodied lip.

Your dazed victim grunts and rolls his head from left shoulder to right. From his place crumpled against the wall, he looks over to his unconscious companion and then up at you. ‘Fuck you, bi—’

You slam onto your knees across his hips, lock your hands together and swing them across his face. Gods it hurts, you’re not usually a puncher. But your hackles are raised and you know something is badly wrong.

Lucky for your almost lacerated knuckles he gives up immediately.

Hands fly into the air. ‘It’s a trap!’ he yelps. ‘An- a- an- ambush! Cephlate knew he would come. He hates Mando. Wants- wants to end him. He’s got tech to control the ship and he’s going to lure him into—’

You hit his carotid artery and he’s lights out. Time’s up. You surge to your feet and move.

--

Everything had been going wrong since the second he’d breached the perimeter. There were more enemies than he was expecting. They had better weapons than he’d anticipated, fucking artillery. He and Grogu had worked as a team as best they could, but the forces were overwhelming.

He hadn’t even had time to zero in on that stupid fucking warlord. Hunched behind a low building, he scans the hacked layout of the base via the holo of his vambrace. He spots a building built like a bunker and, thank the Maker, underground access – a tunnel that barrels off the edge of the plans, presumably out of this hellish place.

It’s fine, he’ll get back to his ship and come back ready for war. 

‘Let’s go kid!’ He shouts and he sprints for the doors. Grogu follows, leaping from cover point to cover point.

Wrenching the doors aside just enough for the two of them to slip in, he jams a vambrace against the control pad and programs them to seal. Twisting to lean back against the wall, he surveys the room and his heart stops. He swears he is hallucinating.

Din stalks forward and leans over the rack of servers.

‘What are you doing here?’ he hisses at you, crouched as you are by an open panel bristling with cables and blinking lights. You’re holding some complicated looking motherbank. ‘I told you to stay on the ship.’

You take a handful of wires and reef them from the bank.

‘Yeah, well,’ you say, not looking up. ‘Couple uninvited guests dropped in and told me about this.’ You shake the device in his visored face.

‘Uninvited what?’ He checks behind him, unholsters his blaster. 

‘Guests. Couple of your quarry dearest’s goons.’

Din is speechless, then, ‘How’d they get inside the Crest? Ground security was active.’ A massive boom rings against the sealed doors.

‘Because of this.’ You shake the object again, pulling a tiny pair of pliers – his pliers? – from a pocket and poking inside it.

‘What—’

‘Traction lock. Writ large. And I mean large. Look at this place.’ You wave a hand around. ‘Could take total control of like, an Imperial battleship with this setup.’ 

Din’s in shock, barely taking anything in. Who are you? He gives himself a shake and snaps back into focus, looking at their surroundings and assessing the best way to deal with the incoming ambush.

‘I’m decoupling your ship’s code from his systems,’ you’re saying. ‘Although it would go a lot quicker if,’ you raise your bound wrists. He notices them for the first time and leans down to cut them free. 

‘Hss, thank you,’ you say, going back to work and taking a few more moments before dropping the messy bundle of tech to stand.

‘Done,’ you chirp.

‘How did your hands end up…’ Din gestures.

‘Bit of a story on my way in,’ you say. ‘These guys have the weirdest weapons—’ You’re cut off.

- -

The doors separate and the room erupts in screaming red. You gasp as you’re picked up and flung against the wall. A heaviness lands on your chest and your vision is obscured by black and chrome crowding you in. You take in what’s happening. 

His body shields you from the pulse probe that had just been tossed into the room. His torso is flush to yours. The helmet tilts up and bumps the crown of your head. You’re completely covered by his broad form. As the pulse fades, boots thunder on the deck toward the opening. For one, barely there fraction of a second, your hips press together as he abruptly shifts and hefts you back behind the bank of servers. 

‘Stay down!’ His command sears across every point your bodies had made contact. He moves toward the formation approaching and becomes a force of nature again.

Hands free and blood singing, you think fuck it. You emerge and survey the scene, taking full advantage of the squad failing to consider you part of the fight. You spin between two while they’re focused on your escort and let fly a flurry of interjections into their joints and airways. One yelps and falls to the side, clawing at his neck. The other fares better, but only until you reef his own blaster in his hands, surprising him with his own momentum, forcing it into the open patch below his helmet and firing.

Dropping the weapon and his limp hands, you convert to a crouch and kick out. With toes pointed and bright, two sets of knees twitch the wrong way and the owners give startled shouts as your fingers find homes in significant places.

A rough hand grabs your tender wrist and you cry out. The shock lets the attacker tug you toward him, fist raised to ram into your face. You barely get your feet under yourself to duck. The swing still manages to brush by your ear, causing a burst of pain. But he’s already let his momentum carry him too far and you yank your seized wrist down so he loses centre. You get your shoulders into his groin and straighten in a rush. He topples over you and lands at a very unfortunate angle on his neck. He stills.

You whirl and register the fight is over. Mando’s whipcord snaps back into place at his wrist and he holsters a pistol slowly, shoulders rising and falling only a little. Seven other bodies surround the still and watchful figure. 

‘Five against one, huh?’ he echoes you from your first meeting.

You can only shrug.

He saunters toward you. ‘Where did you learn to do that?’

Another shrug. Man, that must be annoying. ‘Woman of mystery. Cards close to the chest. All that,’ you say.

Mando regards you. ‘Hm. I would be interested to know just how many cards you hold there to be honest.’

Would he now.

You’re about to lobby a smartass remark in deflection when his hand rises to your face. You resist the urge to jolt back, letting his palm move to hover within an inch of you. It holds there, making no move to turn into actual touch. Still making your lungs fizzle though.

‘You’re hurt,’ he says. You realise he means your injured mouth.

‘It’s nothing,’ you squeak, cringing at yourself. ‘More story for later. Seriously, I’m fine.’ You think you’re staring into his eyes, as he stares back, but hell if you could really know. He breaks away first and you exhale.

‘Time to go,’ he says, moving to the open grate you had climbed through earlier. The three of you drop into the access tunnels and move out.

--

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