#long thing in the middle is the ramp to get on and off the ship cuz its LONG

[feroluce]

Not to make everything about my ship, but if I don't do it no one will, so today we are making meta analysis of Boothill's faceoff match about henghill, because the differences between Boothill's stand off with Luka and his one with Dan Heng- and what you can infer about Boothill himself and what catches his eye in a person- makes me chew concrete.

JUST. I loved the scene between Luka and Boothill so much. I love how wildly unrestrained Boothill is. He really just shoved the barrel of his gun in his opponent's face and put the fear of death into him as a way to test Luka's resolve. I utterly adore him. I hope he does it again. Anyway.

When confronted with all this, Luka freezes. His stress-induced hallucinations were already bad, but you can see how they really ramp up in this match, because before, they were always something familiar. Previous enemies became Silvermanes, or Belobogian automatons, or even Cocolia. Luka is far from home for the first time in his life, and he's so terribly homesick his brain is making everything familiar, because that is what he's desperately craving right now.

But Boothill.

Boothill is something so new, and unique, and horrific and terrifying, that he becomes something entirely unknown to Luka. His hallucination manifests as Something Unto Death, as the very fear of death itself.

And this stand off (which I love so much that this is how this match progressed, because like that's literally just Boothill's in-game skill; he locks the enemy into a one-on-one duel, so this was extremely in character for him) lasts long enough that Owlbert starts having to fill in the silence over the loudspeaker,

and even Boothill himself starts trying to push Luka into making a decision one way or the other.

Given that Boothill is a hunter by trade and is proven to have all the patience to track his prey and then some, this was more for Luka's sake than any impatience on his part, to try to shove him out of his freeze reaction.

And Boothill isn't really hard to read throughout this whole exchange, he all but says outright what he's looking for.

Boothill wants to see him surpass this test and come at him! You can see it in his face when Luka finally takes a step! And in how he congratulates him!

And then he fucking shot him snxhsjksjsn

Boothill admires courage, and bravery, and decisiveness. He admires a person's ability to put their life on the line and still fight in the face of danger and overwhelming odds. Those are the things that catch his eye.

And Luka does kind of get there eventually, but it is a stalling, halting motion that gets him there, and he fell to pieces immediately afterwards. This is his first time with this, and he's still figuring it out.

Dan Heng, on the other hand.

Boothill's stand off with Dan Heng from 2.2 is so fucking far in the total opposite direction that it is HILARIOUS.

Boothill literally breaks into the Astral Express, ambushes Dan Heng, and Dan Heng still has the balls to not only demand info out of Boothill- like doesn't even ask nicely, demands it- he also just straight up calls Boothill a liar. Right to his face! And he still isn't nice about it!!

By the way, that entire conversation? This is how it takes place.

Boothill, phrasing!!

Boothill has him at gunpoint! Dan Heng does not have his weapon with him! He does not flinch, and even stands there with his arms crossed seeming simultaneously pissed and utterly unimpressed. He looks like he should be irritably tapping his foot and looking down his nose at him. Dan Heng could not give less of a shit.

For that matter, Dan Heng even turns his back and walks away from Boothill- right in the middle of him talking, too! Not a single attempt to be considerate of the man who could decide any moment he feels like decorating the wall with Dan Heng's brains.

Dan Heng is brave and courageous and completely unflappable in the face of danger. He is ruthless and decisive in how he conducts himself, even when staring down the barrel of a gun. And through his efforts in Penacony, he shows the ability to put his life on the line and fight through overwhelming odds to save his once-in-a-lifetime companions.

No wonder Dan Heng caught Boothill's eye the way he did, no wonder the two of them were working together and bantering not even minutes after Boothill pulled a gun on him haha

[avatarloverfrfr]

Dreamwalker Siblings

Chapter I: Cryo-sleep Masterlist Summary: Y/n and Jake Sully. Siblings, shipped off into the depths of space to explore the mysterious world of Pandora. Warnings: Mentions of death, reader is NOT excited at all, Constant reminder of deceased loved one. Word count: 3,6k

"You cannot ask this of us! Tommy is the scientist not us. He wanted to be shot light years into space, not us. We cannot do it." I shrieked, pleading with my brother for validation, but my cries were met with oppressive silence. His gaze fixed onto our fallen sibling, Tommy, robbed of life right before he went off to do the only thing that put a smile to his face. All sacrificed for the contents of his wallet.

"Your brother represented a significant investment, we'd urge you to accept taking over his contract." The man besides Jake had said, completely disregarding all that I had said. "I'm sure he would hate to have all his hard work go to waste, knowing someone so close to him would be able to continue his legacy." The second man, besides me, added with a curt nod.

Outrage boils within me at the audacity of these men, exploiting the loss of one of us, former triplets, as leverage against us. How dare they use Jake and I with their clear motives of greed, revealing to us that our worth to them is nothing but a budget they refuse to abandon.

"It'll be a fresh start, on a new world. And the pays good, very good." they said staring at Jake and I. Before I could even say something in retaliation. Jake had spoken for the first time that night. "We'll do it." Disbelief swept over me as I locked eyes with him. How could he agree so easily? How could he not see that these men were just using us— he probably could, yet chose to turn a bind eye.

"Perfect, Y/n we will get your Avatar ready, they will mature on the trip there." the men said walking out, leaving me in there with Jake.

"How could you just accept like that Jake. You caved! Just like that? You know they are just playing us, and you still went along with it! Don't you see–" I started, but he interrupted me. "Maybe you don't see it, but I do. We are dirt poor Y/n! Struggling... This cash could change everything. We could finally be able to live." he pleaded, desperate for understanding. "I could afford to use my legs again." he confessed.

While I was sitting there, next to my brother, a big whole blown right in the middle of our lives, I started having these dreams. Dreams that whispered secrets of possibility and untold wonders. Sooner or later though, you always have to wake up.

As I wake up, I glance around and it hits me, I'm in some sort of cryo pod. Flashbacks flood my mind, reminding me of the time before my life had got frozen, five years of my life, gone. The memories of Tommy's death, as if it was yesterday. 'We had to do it, so we could live." I think to myself, trying to find comfort in all of this.

"Rise and shine sleepy head." a doctor had greeted me as I exit the cryo pod I had spent the last five years of my life in. "We're here."

"Exo-packs on! Let's go! Exo packs on! Remember people, you lose that mask, you're unconscious in 20 seconds, and dead in four minutes–" I stopped listening to what the sergeant had to say. Looking around my eyes landing on Jake. We should not be here, this is not our home. But what's the point in dwelling now, there's no turning back. I think to myself while putting on my exo pack, adjusting it so oxygen could freely flow through.

"When that ramp comes down, go directly into the base. Do not stop! Go straight inside wait for my mark!" the sergeant yelled. Standing up I walk over to Jake who was still seated waiting for everyone in front of him to leave the air craft so that he was able to freely able to deploy his wheelchair.

"Let's go special case! Do not make me wait for you Sully's!" he barks. Not bothering to acknowledge him Jake and I walk off the ramp and onto Pandora, our "fresh start." Taking a long look around I spot soldiers, back on earth these guys were heroes, marines fighting for freedom. But out here they were all just a bunch of hired guns, serving the RDA until their last breath.

"You're not in Kansas anymore, you're on Pandora ladies and gentlemen–" the man, Quartrich, continued. Tommy was meant to be listening to this, not Jake and I.

"Excuse me. Excuse me. Jake!" a lanky man rushes up to us after the "safety brief." "You're Jake right? Tom's brother." he asked looking down at him to meet his eyes. I just stare at him, does he just not see me here?

"You look just like him." he says eyes finally landing on me. "Sorry– I forgot he had mentioned he had two siblings, Y/n. I'm Norm. Spellman. Went through Avatar training with him." he says leading us into some sort of bio-lab.

As Norm continues briefing us on the bio-lab procedures, my attention drifts, drawn to avatars in three separate cry-chambers. I approach them, circling until I stop at a particular one.

"Looks like him." Jake and I simultaneously say, not once taking our eyes off what our brother could have been.

"No, looks like you. This is your avatar now Jake." Norm reassures him placing a hand on Jakes shoulder before moving to the last tube in the bio-lab.

"And this is your avatar Y/n. She had to get to the lab as soon as possible, since you know–" Norm starts, but I cut in, "–I wasn't meant to be here. Yeah, I'm aware." I finish, stepping closer to my avatar.

She looks so much like me, except for the obvious differences. Blue skin, a queue, and her sheer size. "She's beautiful." I whisper, touching the glass, feeling a soft heartbeat pass between us.

"The idea is that every driver is matched to their own Avatar, so their nervous systems are in tune... Or something. That's why they offered us the gig. It's insanely expensive... Is this right? Do we just say whatever to the video log?" Jake questions turning to Norm and Max.

"And do we have to share the exact same camera to film these things?" I interject, trying to nudge Jake out of the screens view.

"Yeah, you both need to document everything you see, what you feel. Plus, you're twins, who knows if you both are able to feel the same emotions or not. It's all apart of the science." Norm explains, retuning to his work.

"Plus it'll keep you sane for the next six years," Norm adds chuckling.

"Not if I have to sit next to Mr. Jarhead it's not." I remark, rolling my eyes but smiling slightly.

"Look who's talking Miss. 'I might not be a marine, but I sure can beat your ass,' " Jake adds, playfully pushing me.

This was one the first times I had smiled since arriving to Pandora. Usually keeping a stoic face, only smiling around my brother. My only family, the only thing from my past life.

Entering the link room behind Norm and Max, we're greeted by a voice. "Who's got my goddamn cigarette?" a redheaded woman demands, emerging from one of the link pods.

"Grace Augustine is a legend. She's the head of the Avatar Program. She wrote the book, I mean literally write the book on Pandora botany." Norm gushes. "Well that's because she likes plants more than people." Max adds teasingly.

"Well, there she is, Cinderella back from the ball. Grace, I'd like you to meet Norm Spellman, and Jake and Y/n Sully." Max says pointing at each of us in turn.

"Norm, I've heard good things about you. How's your Na'vi?" she asks, completely ignoring my brother and me, then begins to speak in a language I can only assume is Na'vi.

"Uh- Grace, this is Jake and Y/n Sully," Max interjects, trying to redirect her attention.

"Yeah, yeah. I know who you are, and I don't need you. I need your brother. You know. the PhD who trained for years for this mission? Yeah him." she snaps.

"He's dead. We know it's a big inconvenience for everyone, including me." I reply bluntly. There's no need to sugar coat anything that's already happened.

"How much lab training have you had?" she asks, looking between Jake and I.

"We dissected a frog once." Jake simply states.

"You see? I mean, they're just pissing on us without even the courtesy of calling it rain. I mean hell, the girl isn't even supposed to be here! I'm going to Selfridge, this is such bullshit." she rants, storming off but not before putting out her cigar.

"Well she's kind." I remark dryly.

As Jake and I arrive precisely at the time Max had instructed us to the day before, 0800, Jake and I hasten to catch up with Grace and Norm, who are already stationed at the link pods.

"You're late Sully's. You're in there, you're here." Grace remarks, gesturing towards two pods for Jake and I, and we obediently follow her directions.

"How much have you both logged?" she inquires, turning to the screen besides Jakes link pod.

"Zip, but I read a manual." Jake replies with a nonchalant shrug, as he wheels over to his pod.

"I listened to him read it out loud, if that counts." I confess making my way to my own pod.

"Tell me you're joking." Grace says incredulously, as she abandons her work on Jakes screen to approach mine.

"So you just decided to venture out here, to the most hostile environment known to man with no training whatsoever and see how it went? What was going on through your head?" she questions, setting up both mine and Jakes link screens for launch.

"Maybe I was tired of doctors telling what I couldn't do." Jake retorts, lying down in this link pod. I look at him wondering if that is why he spared no chance in me saying anything back when those men asked us to take the place of Tommy, because he was tired of the life he had.

"Keep you arms in, heads down." Grace instructs, pushing me into my link bed before I had the chance to ask Jake what he had truly meant.

"Just relax and let your mind go blank." are the last words I hear Grace utter before she seals my link pod.

Off to the side, Max examines scans of Jake and my brain. Studying the intently, he remarks. "Jakes brain is gorgeous, with nice activity. However we're detecting some resistance in Y/n's brain. She's unconsciously pushing back against the transfer, if this continues it could potentially harm the link." he informs, turning to Grace for guidance.

"Once the link is established, it cannot be interrupted. It will only worsen the issue," Grace states matter-of-factly, keeping an eye on my Avatar. Stubborn and resistant to change- that's Grace's initial assessment of Y/n, even after less than 48 hrs of meeting her.

As my eyes flutter open, I'm greeted by a blinding light that pierces my eyes. A sharp ache throbs in my head, intensifying until two figures materialize before me- doctors, no doubt.

"She's awake. Y/n, can you hear me? Are you feeling alright?" the female doctor inquires, checking my expression for any sign of discomfort.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I reply, opting not to mention the pounding headache. Slowly, I sit up, only to find my hands adorned with five blue fingers.

"I made it." I murmur to myself in disbelief. Glancing around, I notice Jake already on his feet, a grin stretching across his face. He's standing, a sight I never thought I'd witness again, his legs finally functioning.

"Y/n you've got to see this. When's the last time you saw your brother standing tall, huh?" he exclaims, turning to face me while his tail knocks over everything in it's path.

Finally on my feet, I chuckle, "Bro, we're giants." The realisation hits me as I gaze at Jake and then towards the exit to find that he was already smiling at me– we're thinking the same thing. Tri– Twin telepathy perhaps?

Without a word Jake and I bolt, dodging Avatars engaged in a game of basketball, evading Norm and the two doctors running after us. We hurdle obstacles until a humanoid robot comes into view.

"Sorry! we both exclaim breathlessly, narrowly avoiding a collision as we skid to a stop near some flora. Catching our breath, we're approached by an avatar bearing striking resemblance to Grace.

"Hey, Sully's!" she calls out, closing in on us.

"Grace?" Jake questions, eyeing her up and down.

"Who else were you expecting numbnuts?" she retorts with a grin, with me laughing at the nickname Grace gave him.

As Jake and Grace catch up, I slip away into the area where Avatars are housed, searching for a change of attire. Opting for a top similar to Graces but in a deep shade of blue, that are about a shade darker than my current skin tone, pairing it with green cargo shorts. Hoping to blend in slightly to the flora and fauna of the forest.

Gazing up at the darkening sky, I realize it's nearly nightfall, meaning I had to delink for the night. "Alright, everyone, settle down! Lights out." Grace commands, ushering the remaining humans away.

"See you at dinner kiddos," she adds, flicking the lights off.

Lying back, I can still feel the remnants of the headache, but I decided to let sleep wash it away. Closing my eyes, I drift off into a peaceful slumber.

next II

Tag list: @pinkvrydag @neytirismissingtoe @youskawng @tsuteyssyulang @lylalaminated

[a-killer-obsession]

PITCHING TENTS ⛺️

Kid Pirates x AFAB Reader Modern AU Campground Series

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

It wasn't something you'd ever admit to those who knew you, they all made the reasonable assumption that you went camping to spend time alone. At first, that had been the case, but you'd quickly come to learn that other single men your age were doing the same thing, and you found yourself loving the thrill of a romp with a stranger.

Masterlist || AO3

PART 1/6 - LAY OF THE LAND

CW: None for this chapter, just R18 mentions of sex.

WC: ~3k

Taglist: @nocturnalrorobin

A/n: I'm vaguely setting this in my home country of NZ, based on a campsite I frequent, for entirely selfish purposes but also because it's easy to describe a place you've been to a million times. Anyway, when I mention forests those are the kinds I mean, no fear of a rogue bear or mountain lion ✌️

You pulled into the quiet campsite in the middle of nowhere as you did every year around this time. Set between large mountainous hills covered in dense forest, and boasting a pool heated naturally by nearby geothermal activity, the site was a popular, bustling location in the on season. You, however, enjoyed the off season, when it was quiet, almost entirely abandoned save for the grounds keeper and his dog, and a handful of long term residents, living out their retirements in quiet bliss in the RVs that lined the very back of the campgrounds. You parked your humble car in front of the office that was built alongside a small shop, usually selling entry and icecreams to locals who came here for the pools, but also held a selection of basics such as toilet paper and cup noodles for campers in desperate need of a grocery trip.

The gravel that lined the carpark crunched underfoot as you made your way to the wooden ramp that led to the office and store building, the whole complex no bigger than a shipping container. The eggy smell of sulphur from the nearby geothermal activity filled your nostrils, unpleasant at first but a smell you'd quickly get accustomed to as you always did. A bell rang as you opened the door, the older woman assigned to mind the store today hurrying out from out back, you could hear the TV she'd been watching as she came out front. This time of the year customers were nil to none, so the counters relied on bells for service, usually unmanned otherwise. The chances of someone stealing from the store while it was unoccupied were slim, but you could assume they had a camera set up to watch from a screen out back anyway.

“[Y/n]!” The old woman exclaimed, taking her seat behind the desk, “I was happy to see you on our books this morning”

“Can't miss my mid-year vacay, Marg,” you replied with a smile, pulling out your wallet and leaning against the desk. You'd been coming here for years, and Margie had worked here for just as long. “What do I owe ya?”

“Minus the deposit you already paid, that'll be $65 sweetheart,” she smiled, clicking a few buttons on the keyboard at a snail pace as she worked on printing a receipt. You handed her the cash and the til made a clunk as the drawer popped open, Marg replacing your four twenty dollar notes with a five and a ten and handing them back to you. You slipped them back into your wallet and she handed you a keycard for the gate that kept pool visitors and strangers out of the campgrounds. Well, their cars anyway, they could absolutely just walk around it.

“Usual spot sweetheart, I'm sure you don't need a map,” she stood to return to her back room. She was definitely getting older, and standing was clearly more difficult for her than it had been in previous years. You'd be sad the year you came to camp and weren't greeted by her friendly face

You thanked her and made your exit, getting back into your car and making sure to roll down your window. You slowly made the short distance to the card receiver, leaning out your window a little to hold the card against it. A small light flashed green and the metal arm creaked as it began to raise. Your car was small, so you didn't have to wait for it to raise completely before you were passing underneath it and navigating the familiar gravel roads to your favourite spot. There were no additional parking spots at each spot, you were expected to either park on them or leave your car in front of the office, so you pulled onto the grass alongside the road between the brick lines that marked the boundary of your spot.

Your usual spot was close to the middle of the grounds, directly across from the communal kitchen building, and just a thirty second walk from the main toilet and shower block. There were other, smaller toilet blocks scattered around the grounds, but this was the only one that featured showers and laundry. The kitchen building was also just a nice place to hang out, having a semi covered outdoor area framed by benches, one of the only places other than your own rented spot where you were allowed to drink alcohol, so it was a great place to meet other campers. At first glance, anyone would think a lone woman coming to a campground on the off season was here for peace and quiet. On the contrary, you found during the busy season there were usually far too many large families and happy couples. The off season was for singles, and you were here for one thing and one thing only: sex with strangers.

It wasn't something you'd ever admit to those who knew you, they all made the reasonable assumption that you were here to spend time alone, always turning down offers from friends to join you. At first, that had been the case. A spontaneous camping trip in the middle of the year to cool down after a particularly stressful project at work finally wrapped up. But you'd quickly come to learn that other single men your age were doing the same thing, and you found yourself loving the thrill of a romp with a stranger. The campsite being so empty also made for additional excitement, after many years here you'd had sex in or on most of the campground's amenities. The kitchen, the pool, the showers, on top of a laundry machine. It was an excitement you struggled to find in the big city you came from, without wasting money on a hotel room there was no good way to have sex with a stranger without being caught and without them knowing where you lived and getting attached, because like hell were you going to a strange man's house on your own.

You quickly set about working on your tent, pulling item after item from the back of your car and setting up with well practised speed. Soon you were closing the car boot and admiring your work. A decently sized, two chambered tent - the first chamber holding your cooler and a small fold down table for prepping a quick snack at night. The kitchens had multiple large fridges available for use, but you liked to keep your beer and soda in an ice bath in your tent for easy access. Every morning and evening you would go to the small camp store and buy a bag of ice, but for now the cooler was empty. The second chamber was larger and held most of your belongings, as well as a queen sized, double layered, inflatable mattress, already set with comfortable bedding. You even had a small fold down side table and camping lamp, which had a handle for late night toilet visits, and you'd run an extension cable from the site provided power you'd paid extra for, to your side table, so you could charge your phone and laptop from the bed. There was no internet here, and barely any phone signal, but you'd downloaded plenty of movies, tv shows and e-books before leaving home, as well as bringing a handful of actual novels, a switch console and drawing supplies. You weren't a fantastic artist by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a hobby you enjoyed and liked to practise anyway.

Outside your tent you'd also set up a small gazebo, after your first few years you'd gotten sick of being trapped inside the tent whenever it rained, and it also provided shelter for a large trestle table and tabletop barbecue so you could grill regardless of the rain. There were also a few collapsible chairs under the gazebo, a larger reclining one where you spent most of your time, and a smaller more basic one in case you had a guest. Aka another camper you intended to, or hand already fucked.

Satisfied with your setup, you took a quick break to check your phone and let your friends know you'd made it safe and sound, before climbing back in your car and heading to the grocery store in the small nearby town. The town was about a twenty minute drive away, a small oceanside tourist town that was mostly a pass through for those heading to a nearby famous beach, or to board boats or small privately run helicopters for whale and dolphin watching. You'd never bothered with the tourist traps, but you had once or twice hit the beach when you'd come during the on season with friends.

Thriving on local tourism, the town was humble compared to the city you'd come from, but large enough to have two supermarkets and a decent size home goods store, as well as a long stretch of boutiques and cafes. You head to your favourite supermarket, pulling into the half full car park and heading inside. You pulled up your list on your phone as you approached the doors, grabbing a trolley and setting about your shopping. Food for several days, beer, condoms, all very important. A novel that caught your eye, some trashy magazines, snacks for late night movies. A comically large cucumber caught your eye, and you snapped a pic to send to your friends with the caption ‘finally found a boyfriend 🥒💦’

Everything on your list gathered, you headed for the checkouts. A big, noisy, red ute pulled into the carpark as you started loading your groceries into the reusable totes you kept in the back of your car. It parked nearby and four fucking massive men jumped out, shoving each other and laughing boisterously. Definitely not locals by the looks of it, the back of the ute loaded up with what looked like camping equipment, tied down with straps and a piece of blue tarpaulin that didn't cover everything. You wondered if they'd be staying at the same grounds as you, it was the most well known in the area given its pool that was free use for the campers and the nearby hiking trail that offered incredible views of the entire area all the way out to the ocean. You licked your lips at their beefy builds, a girl could certainly dream, any of them would make a fine target for your sexual escapades.

The red haired one among them wolf whistled as he passed by, as you bent over the boot of your car to reach an extra tote that had fallen under a seat. You turned back to him, a hand on your hip, and winked playfully. He blushed, clearly not having expected that reaction, and his friends whooped and smacked him playfully. The group followed behind the redhead who was fleeing as fast as he could, and you continued packing away your groceries and returned your trolley before heading back to camp.

When you got back you unpacked everything, putting your chillables in the provided fridges, your name written in clear black marker over each package, and filled your cooler with the bag of ice you'd grabbed from the camp store on your way in before putting your beer and soda in to chill. The food that didn't need refrigeration was stored in your tent in a small latchable plastic box to keep any rodents away. All done with your chores, you ate a quick lunch of some pre-made food you'd grabbed at the supermarket, and decided to hit up the pool.

You made your way back up the gravel path from the pool, slide on sandals on your feet and a towel wrapped around your body. You were still in your bikini, your wet hair sending droplets of fresh water from the rinsing shower down your body. You watched a bird native to the area fly overhead before the sound of boisterous laughter caught your attention. Usually, at this time of the year, campsite guests would pick locations far away from each other, most people came here this time of the year to be alone. The grounds were arranged in blocks, each block holding ten or twelve sites, split with half to one road and half to another. There were a good amount of blocks, the grounds could probably accommodate a good couple hundred people at its peak, though right now you could only see three other tents far from yours.

You could hear the group before you spotted their red ute, the same one from the grocery store, obscured by your own setup until you got closer. They'd rented what looked like multiple sites right next to yours. Usually, you would be annoyed, but being that they were all so delicious you were delighted. This was going to be a successful holiday indeed.

The group was made up of four large men. There was the redhead who had whistled at you, he looked to be the youngest of the group, as wide as he was tall with a thick scar that ran down his face, giving him a natural bad boy appearance. He was soft looking, but in a strong, could definitely throw you over his shoulder sort of way, like a boxer. You noticed now that he was missing his left arm, it must have been facing away from you at the store. He wore eyeliner, which you noticed now they all did, along with a vibrant red lipstick that matched his hair. He looked very punk in dark ripped jeans and a leather vest he wore open, showing the scar that ran over his torso, along with a big fuck-off belt buckle and multiple silver chains hanging from his belt. The nails on his one hand were painted a darker red, and he had a black fabric headband holding back his wild hair.

Next was the shortest of the group, though certainly not short by normal standards. Dressed in a simple blue t-shirt and jeans, his impressive blond hair went all the way to his hips. His sharp featured face was partially obscured by messy straight bangs and a fluffy goatee, his lips painted purple as he flashed a bright toothy smile at the redhead.

The other two both dressed in a punk aesthetic much like the redhead, two slightly older men with impressive heights, one of them towering above all four of them. The shorter man had pale blue hair set in dreads, his face covered in unusual scars and thorn like tattoos wrapping around his neck and down his arms. The taller hid his hair under a black hoodie, but you could see pointed sideburns peeking out under them. He looked deliciously muscular under the tight netting shirt he wore.

The four of them were going about their setup, four separate single chamber tents laid out on the ground to sort their positions while the blond and tall one carried an excessive amount of grocery bags to the shared kitchen. It was just as well there was hardly anyone at the camp, they'd need a whole fridge on their own with that much food. Deciding to make your intentions clear as soon as possible, you laid a towel over your reclining chair and grabbed a beer, relaxing in your bikini that showed off your fit body. The redhead was quick to notice, and you tilted your sunglasses to wink at him. He realised why he recognized you and you heard him swear and scurry away. Cute.

You watched their entire setup process hungrily, watching their muscles flex as they unloaded the ute and set things in place. The redhead was no help with the tents, so he worked on setting up smaller things like their large barbecue and chairs while the other three got the tents erected. You couldn't help but notice that they hadn't brought a gazebo, they must be newbies. Hopefully the weather would be fine for however long they were staying, you hoped for more than one day, and given the amount of food they had you would guess at least three.

All of them eventually took notice of you, catching sly glances where they could. The blond one seemed the most confident, openly flexing and showing off, flashing you wide grins that you eagerly returned. Oh you would definitely be climbing that tree. The redhead continued to act shy, doing things that were clearly to show of his strength but refusing to meet your eye. The bluenette gave you kind looking smiles, and the tall one looked at you with suspicion, which you always responded to by changing which leg was crossed over the other, giving him a full view of your barely clothed centre. It didn't seem to phase him though, curious.

Your phone pinged at some point and you checked it, starting a conversation with your bestie about your current view. She was the only person who knew the real reason you took these holidays. You snapped a quick, sneaky pic of the four men as they set up.

You: [one attachment] You: finally found a boyfriend 🥒💦 Bestie: LMAO finally a man that can satisfy You: might have found a few more of those Bestie: yeah? Good huntin? 👀 You: new neighbours You: [one attachment] Bestie: fuck me Bestie: or rather, fuck you, hopefully You: the blond one is giving me eyes for sure Bestie: yeah? You layin down that charm girlie You: lets just say i just got back from the pool, and im enjoying a nice beer on my recliner 👙 Bestie: yes queen! Give them a good look at that meal, they're gonna be eatin you up in no time! You: fingers crossed 🤞 you know im in dire need of a good fuck, heres hoping they're not all just a gay polycule, that'd be just my luck Bestie: well it sounds like at least the blond is dtf You: hes got a cute ass smile, cant wait to ride it 🤠 Bestie: girl you are nasty! 😂 Go get that dick queen 🍆 ttyl, ily! You: luv u!

You put down your phone and finished your beer, deciding you'd laid around for long enough and it was probably time to get started on dinner. It was already late in the day, if you were going to attract any of the boys it likely wouldn't be today, you needed the novelty of camping to wear off for them before they came sniffing around for more excitement. Not to mention you were tired from driving all morning and setting up. You pulled a few things from the kitchen, carrying them back on one of your plastic camping plates, and grilled yourself a steak while you scooped a few premade deli salads onto your plate. You enjoyed your meal while reading your new book, noting the smell of meat in the air and the sounds of sizzling and beer cans opening nearby as your neighbours settled in for their own dinner.

When it got too dark to read you took your dishes to the kitchen to wash them, grabbed your toiletries from your tent, and took a quick shower. The weather was warm enough to make the short walk in your nightie, so you strutted back to your tent with your legs and cleavage on proud display, your nipples pert under the satin night dress which was trimmed with thick lace, hanging from your shoulders by delicate spaghetti straps. You'd never have walked around in public like this if you had neighbours you weren't trying to fuck, but you were more than happy for the boys to look at you, and look they did. You gave them a short wave before you entered your tent, grabbing a new beer and your laptop and settling in to watch a movie.

[NEXT PART]

[marlynnofmany]

Downhill Speed

You know what's a shame? Wasted potential.  Like this new place we were doing business, which was all swooping walkways and ramps — a spectacular opportunity for hoverboard fun, except for the fact that it would probably cause a massive diplomatic incident. The locals were an exceptionally stuffy and dignified species. I couldn't tell if they walked that slowly out of choice or necessity, though the planters full of edibles leaves every few yards felt like a clue. These guys were always chewing, as if they'd run out of the energy to move if they stopped.

I don't know. Maybe they were just like that for cultural reasons. But they kinda did look like koala-sloths in fancy robes. 

And as much as I wanted to find something with wheels or thrusters to ride whooping down the walkways, I didn't want to get our courier ship blacklisted from this sector of space. 

So I just waited patiently while Captain Sunlight worked out the details, and I helped Paint and Mur transfer the pile of small boxes from their hoversleds to ours. I didn't even comment on the inefficiency of all these small crates and multiple hoversleds when they could have had them strapped together in a pallet. Maybe the things came from multiple houses. Not my business. 

But then. One of the locals dropped a box.

It landed on a corner and cracked right open, to a chorus of horrified gasps, and its contents rolled out — a single glowy blue sphere, all sparkly and beautiful, the size of a bowling ball and just as fast. It gathered speed down the ramp while locals cried out helplessly. 

Well if that's not my cue, I don't know what is.

I jumped on a hoversled and flashed off after it, kicking madly to catch up. This was more awkward than I expected. I was out of practice — it had been a long time since I zipped between college classes on a proper board — and this was definitely not that. The little hoversled clearly wasn’t built for speed. It vibrated under me like it was panicking about the velocity we were going, and I couldn’t blame it.

This ramp was a pretty straight one so far, which was great, because I had no real way to steer. I’d kicked to a proper pace, and now I balanced with both feet planted and both arms out like an absolute amateur. But I didn’t want to tip over. I was closing in on the ball.

It made an ominous rumble along the floor.

It was just two yards away.

There was a corner coming up.

The ball was one yard away.

I crouched.

And I grabbed it, tucking it against my chest with one arm while I clutched the edge of the hoversled with the other, sitting down just before I slammed into the clear wall at the corner.

That was some painful skidding. I put my feet down to slow things further, which ended up spinning me around, dragging my feet behind me. But I didn’t drop the ball. And I probably didn’t get any friction burns through my sleeve, though I’d definitely have to check that later.

For now, I was busy sliding to a stop and taking a few deep breaths before standing up. As my blood stopped pounding in my ears quite so loudly, the realization trickled in that people were making a lot of noise around me.

Good noise? I think. Whew.

It took a second to be sure, but those were cheers of praise. Either this ball was an important holy item, or the stunt I’d pulled to catch it was just that impressive. Possibly both. I wouldn’t know until I got back up to the top, because there wasn’t anyone nearby to ask.

But they were hurrying down to meet me, as much as their species could be said to hurry. I found the height adjustment on the hoversled and raised it to where I could tow it without bending down, then started the long walk back up. I held the pretty blue sphere close.

When the koala-sloths met me in the middle, galloping with an undignified flapping of robes, they thanked me profusely for catching the high explosive before it leveled the place.

Multiple responses ran through my head.

I ended on “You might consider better packaging for it.”

They agreed, taking it from me (to my relief) and pulling the hoversled as well. By the time we reached the top, our entire crew was going to town with bubble wrap on the other boxes, and Captain Sunlight had arranged a significantly higher delivery fee.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Where the Tainted Kiss [Chapter Twenty-five] Head or Heart [Vaas Montenegro]

A/n: I am so very sorry for how long it took me to write this. I've rewritten this chapter so many times, it's driven me insane. Honestly, I'm still not happy with it, but it turned out better than my other outlines. Please enjoy.

Thank you all who have been patient and supportive of this story.

Warning(s): Vaas being Vaas, guns, anxiety, blood, death, fear, OC, mixed emotions, breakdown, language, threats, tears.

No Minors Allowed!!

At the first sound of gunfire, Olivia McKenna jerked awake in a panic, sitting up so fast that for a moment her brain felt like a bowl of soup. Her heart was racing. Liv darted her eyes around the crate, searching for the source of the noise, but of course, she could not see much. One thing she did find strange was that the door was ajar. But why? 

She remembered staying up late with Vaas as he confided in her about Jason; about how one or the other was destined for death. Liv recalled her revelation, staring down at the man who kidnapped her, whose insanity infected her like a virus. But then what? The joint relaxed her enough to fall asleep. She drifted off, leaning against the wall of the crate as Vaas rested on her thighs. He must have moved her when he left.

How sweet of him. 

Liv turned up her eyes, ran a hand over her face, and then tottered to the opening of the crate. As she peeked out, expecting to see the interior of the red shipping door, she was shocked to see the courtyard instead. It was still dark out, and yet the compound was strangely empty. Open wooden crates were lying around, and a bonfire raging, reaching high into the starlit sky as though everyone packed up and left in a hurry. Liv was bewildered. 

She stepped out and crept down the ramp, anxious that she was going to get caught, but no one even uttered a word. Then Liv noticed why. Shoved beside the corner of the building and a crate was the body of a pirate. At first, she thought he was asleep, drunk, or high, but she noticed bullet holes in the building and upon closer investigation, she noticed blood staining his red shirt. 

Before she could make heads or tails of the discovery, she heard gunshots in the distance. Her heart began to race. 

"But I feel it right fucking here. This feeling in my chest tells me that he is coming for me."

Jason. Could it be him?

Liv squatted beside the crate, listening to the chaos that was unfolding across the compound. It felt like she was in the middle of a battlefield, regarded as a prisoner of war, or worse, one of the enemies. Reaching up to her neck, her fingers brushed the torn grimy cloth, and in fear of being mistaken for a pirate and shot down, she untied it and tossed it to the ground. For a moment, she felt free, but that meant nothing if she could not escape.

The front gate was closed, likely locked up tight. So how did the Rakyat - or Jason - get inside? A hole in the border, perhaps. Liv groaned. It would be too much of a risk to run through the warzone in search of it, especially when she did not even know if it existed or not. To make matters worse, as she mulled over her options, a fire had broken out in the adjacent buildings. The gunfight was getting closer to her.

The main gate. I don't have much of an option. 

The console was inside one of the buildings, she knew. It was the only way to unlock the front gate. But she feared what lay in wait for her. Would the Rakyat consider her friend or foe? They left her to the mercy of the jungle once; they might just shoot her this time. Like it or not, she was alone.

It's fine. I can do this. Find the panel; find the way out. 

She would figure out the details of her way back to the mainland afterward. Liv took an uneasy breath and peered into the wooden crate. It was empty aside from some foam inserts, but the dead pirate had a 1911 semi-automatic lying near him. It would do. Having a gun was better than not having one. Liv reached for it, but no sooner had she grabbed it, had a loud unexpected voice startled her. 

“Jason, look at you. I mean look at you.”

Vaas. Her blood ran cold. Where was he? It sounded like his voice was coming from all around her. A PA system no doubt. He must have still been inside the building she wandered from. 

“Stupid motherfucking white boy. You come here in MY fucking jungle and you think you’re a fucking warrior. You think you know what it takes to kill?” 

Liv tightened her jaw. Warrior this, warrior that; he was obsessed with the notion. What bullshit did Citra fill his head with? And then there was Jason. He was falling down the same rabbit hole into madness, chasing the same ridiculous concept.

Checking the magazine to make sure it had bullets, she took an uneasy breath. Of course, she would have to face Vaas to open the door; it was like a damn video game. Liv was getting pretty fucking sick of being yanked around. If push came to shove, then she was ready. She turned and darted back into the storage building, ignoring the crate, and rounded the corner into the room with the abandoned cars. There was a set of grated stairs that she had not noticed before when Vaas brought her in. They lead up to what she hoped was the control room.

Liv crept up the stairs, gun positioned down with the safety off, making it to the top and around the corner before someone grabbed her from behind. She squeaked in fear, attempting to turn around, but a throaty laugh made her halt. 

“¡Mierda (shit)! What the hell are you doing outside your crate?” Carlos asked. 

He released her, and Liv swung around to face him. Her first thought was to shoot him, but he did not seem hostile. His gun was at his side, so she too kept hers down. If she could go about this peacefully, then she would. 

“The door was open,” she admitted.

Carlos grunted in annoyance, cursing beneath his breath. 

“We are getting our asses mowed down out there.”

Liv gave him a look as if to say ‘And I should care, why’? She was not in the least bit sympathetic.

“Is it the Rakyat?” 

“Snow fucking White,” Carlos answered. 

One man was causing so much chaos? Liv could not believe that. There was no way he could have survived the things he had. 

“I'm in Hell. I have to be.”

Carlos snorted. “It was all good until you came along, gringa (foreigner). Un paraíso (a paradise).” 

She was sure it was. Liv merely flipped him the bird, then peered down the hall. There was a door at the end, propped open, but she could not see what was inside. Carlos mistook her curiosity for concern. 

“Worry about yourself, princesa (princess). This fight isn't yours.”

So, he was down there, waiting for Jason. Liv bit back a rude remark. It was her fight though. She was as much involved as Jason was, maybe even more. Just because she did not have any friends left to save did not mean she didn't have any to avenge. Tightening her grip on the gun, she tightened her jaw. 

“He might die, might not, is all I'm saying. But you won't be the one to pull the fucking trigger,” Carlos stated. “As much as he likes you, he won't let you intervene in this fight. It's beyond the two of us.” 

“This warrior shit again,” Liv snarled. 

Fuck it. 

“What then?” 

“We'll wait it out. Vamos entonces (Come on then). Before someone puts a bullet in your ass,” Carlos suggested. 

It took Liv a moment to realize what he meant, and as much as she wanted to see the confrontation, she knew he was right. Vaas would kill her before he ever let her take away his moment with Jason.

"He's coming, querida (darling). We are the same, he and I. It can only fucking end when one of us is truly dead."

She sighed. Was he warning her? Or saying goodbye. In the end, she reluctantly chose to follow Carlos and let fate do as it intended to. If Vaas died, she was finally free. A part of her, however, was wailing, begging for him to live. 

Carlos led Liv downstairs and back to the crate, to her dismay, closing the door. So long as the bar was not pulled down, the crate would remain unlocked and could be opened from the inside. Quietly the two waited in anticipation, hearing nothing for a while, until rushed footsteps broke the uncomfortable silence. Even though she did not need to, Liv held her breath until the footsteps receded. 

Then what she heard next could only be described as utter chaos. Jason began to shout, saying things that made no sense to her. He rambled like a madman, then the bullets began to fly. He went through an entire clip of a machine gun, halted, then began to fire again. How many bullets was he going to waste? Was he even hitting anything? All Liv could picture was Jason in a Stormtrooper uniform failing to hit anything. As comical as the image was, she could not muster a smile. Her nerves were too screwed up. By the time it was over, she for some reason felt sick to her stomach. The outcome was weighing on her like a wet blanket. 

Waiting for what felt like an hour, Liv nearly gasped in fear when Carlos yanked the latch up and opened the door. It made such a loud squeak that her ears rang. He held up his hand to halt her, peeked outside, then motioned for her to follow him. She did not know if she wanted to. With a deep breath, she tottered outside the crate for the last time and into the warehouse. Carlos went right, so she followed him. 

The air was stagnant with the scent of gunpowder, growing stronger as Liv ascended the stairs. She noticed holes in the walls, holes that were not there earlier, diverting her attention only when the toe of her shoe hit something at the top where Carlos had first snuck up on her. It was a used 1ml syringe. She curled her nose in disgust, ignored it, and walked behind the brute down the hallway to the room at the end. The two hesitantly entered. Even if he did not seem to care, Carlos let out a groan of remorse at what he saw. 

“Fóllame (fuck me). Hand of fate, you crazy motherfucker.”

What did he mean? Liv shoved past him, seeing both Vaas and Jason on the floor. Neither of them were moving, but only Vaas had blood around him. She could not believe it.

“A-are they dead?” She asked.

Carlos checked on Vaas first, pressing his fingers against the pulse point at his wrist. He groaned, then went to check on Jason. As he did, Liv hesitantly wandered over to the former, staring down at him. She gently nudged his arm, but he did not move.

He's dead, isn't he?

Tears stung her eyes. She was not sure if she was crying because it was over or because she didn't want him to die. Either reason she believed. She stared at Vaas long enough in a zoned-out state that when she heard Carlos curse beneath his breath, she swore he tightened his jaw. Liv glanced over at the brute to see him raise his 44 magnum and point the barrel at Jason, who was holding a tribal knife in one hand; half of the blade was covered in blood.

“What are you doing?” She asked in a raspy voice.

“Finishing him off,” Carlos answered. “The fucker is still breathing.” 

Jason was alive. Liv widened her glossy eyes.

“Why? He won. Vaas is dead.” 

What sense did it make to kill him now? Revenge. She took a step toward him to stop him, content with using the gun if she had to, but a hand weakly grabbed her leg. Liv squeaked in surprise, glancing down to see that Vaas had moved. 

“So quick to…count me out, no?”

How was he alive? For a moment, Liv was relieved, but then the feeling was replaced with an extreme sensation of anger. 

No. No…no. 

Raising the gun, her hands trembled. She pointed the barrel at him, but instead of anger or shock, Vaas simply grinned.

“I always knew those fucking tears were genuine. From the heart, yeah?”

Tears. Liv almost did not hear Carlos shout for her to stop, lost in her thoughts. What tears? 

Lying on his back, Vaas weakly raised his hands to his head, lifting his fingers to give the impression that he had horns. 

“Monstruo (monster).” 

“I'm not a fucking monster…I'm not.”

“I don't w-want you to die. Please stop…please.” 

Liv tensed.

“Shut up. Just shut your fucking mouth,” she hissed. 

Why did he bring that up? Why did it matter? Liv placed both her hands around the gun, begging herself to prove him wrong, but the barrel of a 44 magnum touched the back of her head and she froze.

“This won't save you, puta (bitch),” Carlos sneered. “You pull the trigger and you will die right here.”

“Ey fucker!” Vaas shouted. He motioned with his hand for Carlos to put the gun down. “Don't interrupt. The grown-ups are talking.” 

What sort of game was he playing? Did he not think she would do it? Liv tightened her jaw.

“It takes a monster to kill a monster,” she uttered. 

He laughed weakly. 

“And you are that fucking monster, huh?” Before she could answer, Vaas did it for her. “No, not you, querida (darling). You aren't like me.” 

Even with a gun pointed at him, he was still underestimating her resolve. 

“You don't know a damn thing about me, Vaas.”

“Show me,” Vaas ordered. “You want to be a monster. ¡Muéstrame! ¡Vamos! (Show me! Come on)!”

Liv tightened her jaw in irritation. She was not afraid of him, but her hands trembled. Tears slid down her heated cheeks and her stomach churned. Vaas was right here; he was on death's door. He was at her mercy, and yet she was hesitant for some reason. Her time on the island crossed her mind like a reel of memories, silent yet nonetheless intense. 

She hated to admit it, but she was drawn to Vaas in more ways than she should be. It was a terrible realization, even more so when she realized that he walked her through her trauma. She forgave herself; she let her dad go. Her lip began to tremble. He was right, she was not a monster. Perhaps it was in her eyes; eyes that stung with tears as she tried to force herself to be like him, just as Jason had. 

“You bastard,” she sobbed. 

The gun felt like a weight in her hand, growing heavier and heavier as her strength failed her. Liv realized it was easy to set herself up in that mindset; that she had to kill Vaas to be free, but she could not go through with it. Her morals would not let her take his life, even after everything she went through. She slowly dropped to her knees, letting the heavy gun slide to the floor in front of her. No matter how hard she tried to get her feelings together, she couldn't.

Wiping away her tears, she glanced at Vaas to gauge his expression, but to her shock, his eyes were closed and his body was still. Liv could tell based on the shallow breaths that he took that he was still alive; he had merely passed out. The fucker. He did not get to make her feel this way and then pass out. An air of annoyance washed over her and like the flip of a switch, she lunged at him, straddling his waist. Despite Carlos’ protests, she drew back her arm, tightened her hand into a fist, and punched Vaas in the chest.

Her wrath knew no bounds. Liv did not care where she hit, so long as her fist made contact with the man below her, stopping only when she missed and struck the floor beside his head.  

“Fuck!” She shouted. 

Her hand was covered in Vaas’ blood and her knuckles burned. If anything, it just made her more angry that he was not awake to listen to her. 

“You psycho fuck,” she wept. Reaching down, she buried her fingers in his shirt. “Wake up. You have no idea what you've done…what hell you've put me through. I want–”

A fresh bout of sobs wracked her. For a moment, she could not speak. No matter how hard she tried, nothing came out but her cries. Liv did not find her voice again until Carlos slid his hands beneath her arms in an attempt to move her. 

“Don't fucking touch me!” She lashed out, jerking away from him. 

She wasn't done, but Carlos did not care. He jerked her up, holding her back. 

“Calm the fuck down. He can't hear you. You're acting loca (crazy). Breathe.” 

For fucks sake. She was having a mental breakdown, wasn't she? Liv took a deep uneasy breath, but it did little to calm her trembling body. She supposed she did look crazy, attacking an unconscious man who was bleeding out.

“Are you good?” Carlos asked.

Honestly, no. Liv shook her head, but luckily he let her go. She watched as he walked over to Vaas and began to strip him of his tank top, using a knife from his boot to tear the fabric. As he was wrapping the strips across Vaas’ abdomen where he had been stabbed, she heard the sound of footsteps smacking against the grated walkway outside. 

A moment later, Yada stumbled in, holding his hand over a wound on his side. 

“Fuck me,” he uttered, taking in the scene before him. 

His eyes met Livs for a moment as though he was debating her involvement before Carlos shouted for him to help.

“He's bleeding out. We need to take him to the Doctor.”

Doctor E. 

“Will he make it that far?” Yada asked. 

“The fuck if I know,” Carlos retorted.

Yada cursed beneath his breath and helped him lift Vaas, supporting his weight. 

“And Snow White. He alive too?” 

Liv darted her eyes to Jason, then back to Carlos, giving him a pleading look that said ‘Leave him be. Please’. He thankfully listened.

“We need to go. This place is fucked.”

She considered staying behind. The island would no doubt be liberated by the Rakyat and in a few hours it would be swarming with them, but she was not sure she could trust them. The sad truth was that she trusted the pirates more. Liv swallowed hard. She had a choice to make.

Glancing around the room for the first time, she noticed a control panel in the center with multiple TV screens surrounding it. Some of them were broken, riddled with gunshot holes, but she could make out sections of the compound. One of them pointed at her shipping crate. Liv snorted, then walked over to the panel to look it over. There were a series of buttons; one of them read ‘main’. She pressed it down, then turned. A shelf in the corner of the room held multiple items, one of which was a can of red spray paint. An idea came to mind.  

Before she left, taking her gun with her, she sprayed a message on the floor for Jason to see. ‘Break the Cycle’. She opted not to leave her name. After all Olivia McKenna was meant to be dead. 

Hurrying outside, Liv was pleased to see that Carlos and Yada had not yet left her. They had loaded Vaas into a Scavenger with an open trunk bed and were talking to another pirate who had somehow managed to live. By the time she made it over, he walked away, heading back into the compound. 

“There are others?”

“A few. With Vaas on the verge of death, we need to step back and take a look at the damage. Go into hiding,” Carlos answered honestly. He paused for a moment, then sighed. “You coming, princesa (princess).”

Honestly, she had nowhere else to go. There was a chance Vaas would pull through and there was something she wanted to tell him. She hoped that she would not come to regret this. 

“For now. I need to see if he lives or not,” Liv retorted. 

Her answer was cynical, but Carlos could respect her resolve. He nodded, then motioned for her to get into the Scavenger. Liv sat up front while Yada sat in the bed with Vaas. They planned to take a patrol boat to the north island, and then drive to the doctor's house. She knew nothing beyond that. 

For the most part, the trip was safe. Carlos stayed in contact with an unnamed pirate who had eyes on the roads. A large handful of territories had been liberated and were now taken over by the Rakyat, but there were still pirates hidden about, lying low. By the time they reached the Doctor's house, the sun had risen. Liv slid out of the front seat and stretched her sore back. She was exhausted, both mentally and physically, but felt slightly better after her breakdown. 

The house the Doctor lived in was gorgeous. It looked like a mansion compared to the shacks on the island. There was even a greenhouse situated to the side, where the Doctor himself emerged moments later, swaying a bit. 

“This is…a pleasant surprise I must say,” he stated, as she and Carlos approached. “Am I hallucinating?”

Liv raised a brow. One hard look and she realized that he was high. His blue eyes were glassy and his pupils were dilated.  

“Jefe (boss) is in the back. He was stabbed,” Carlos told him, ignoring his question. 

Doctor E sucked in air between his teeth. 

“A patch-up. I'll go grab my bag, wherever I might have left it.” 

Liv was in disbelief. This was Doctor E? An elderly, unkempt man who seemed to sample a bit too much of his product. She waited until he strode away before she turned to Carlos. 

“Are you sure about him?”

“He works better when he's high,” Carlos simply answered. 

Whatever. It was not her life that was on the line. She sat down on the front porch out of the way while Doctor E, who later she learned was called Alec Earnhardt, attempted to save Vaas. He managed to stop the bleeding and sew him up, but he had lost quite a bit of blood, which with a transfusion might save him. It was honestly up to him now. 

Liv thought in some cliche manner that her blood would be needed, but luckily Doctor Earnhardt had it handled. Vaas was, ironically, a regular blood donor. In a place like the Rook Islands, she reckoned giving blood was not a terrible idea. It was more weird that the old man kept the bags in his fridge next to his produce.

A short while later, Doctor Earnhardt joined her on the porch, cleaning the blood from his hands with a wash rag. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked. 

Liv hummed, then realized that he meant the blood on her hands and clothes. 

“It's not mine.” 

She reckoned that he was used to such remarks, or he simply did not care, because he said nothing in return. He was silent, watching the pirates talk amongst themselves, then turned his eyes to Liv again. 

“You don't belong here miss, not with these chaps.” 

He was right. She didn't. 

“Neither do you, by the sound of it,” Liv retorted. 

She was referring to his accent. He sounded like he was from somewhere in Europe, Britain most likely. 

Doctor Earnhardt snorted softly. “I'm right where I am meant to be, I assure you.” 

Liv was not sure what he meant. She watched him faintly smile, then walk back into the house. If she had known that this was the first and last time she would talk to him, she would have asked him to come with her, though she doubted that he would have followed. 

Walking down to the Scavenger, she crawled into the front seat, taking a look back at Vaas. He looked like he was in an eternal conflict with himself. His brows were knitted, eyes darting back and forth beneath his lids. Liv wondered if he was dreaming. Whatever was going on inside his mind must have been chaotic. If only she knew. 

The sound of the door coming open turned her attention to Carlos who sat behind the wheel. 

“What now?” She asked. 

“We lay low for a while. Fuera de la red (off the grid). Then we will see,” he answered. 

Liv hummed. Reaching over to the radio, she cut it on, surprised to hear ‘Mama Morenita’ playing. An air of nostalgia washed over her. 

“Mama Morenita is the best song on the radio, no?” 

Carlos snorted and started the engine. Vaas would agree. 

[yaut-jaknowit]

WAIT WAIT MY DRUNK BRAIN STARTED WORKING ON ANOTHE MXM IDEA

IMAGINE LIKE THE READER REUNITING WITH HIS MATE AFTER A LONGER TIME PERIOD FOR LIKE WTV ANGSTY REASON (broooo imagine the reader had gone thru smth traumatising like torture or some shit 😭😭) NAHHHH I MIGHT SPAM YOUR INBOX FR TONIGHT MY DRUNK BRAIN STARTED WORKING ON ALL LEVELS FROM ANGST TO NSFW LETSGOOOOO

Returned At Last Part 1

Pairing: Wolf x Reader

Word Count: 4506

Summary: All it was suppose to be a simple trip to earth. Wolf has a job to do. You're okay with that. You stay on the ship where it is safe. No one can hurt you from there. Wolf will come back and the two of you will leave. Don't let your guard down.

Author Note: Soooo I may or not have gone a little overboard with this. That's why it took a hot minute to get it out for you. Hopefully the length of it will be enough of an apology. But also, fucking love this, part of the reason why it's so fucking long.

I promise to all those who have asked me something, I am working on them. I just got side tracked with a few other writing prompts and drawing COD men.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 2

Traveling out in space wasn’t all it was showed in shows. Getting stranded rarely happened; aliens boarding the ship to take over has never happened; stress and anxiety running high was also a nope. Everything was chill. It was just you and Wolf, flying through space as he hunted down Xenomorphs. When he gets off his ship to do his thing, you happily stay back, safe. He keeps you content with books, games, and other supplies his bought.

Yet, everything wasn’t chill today. Not everything goes perfectly. You weren’t safe.

It all started with a distress beacon coming from earth, funny enough. When Wolf told you about this, you jumped at the call. He, of course, couldn’t say no to the ancients telling him to respond. So, the two of you went through the void of space back to earth. You were more than happy to return after some time away. You couldn’t go visit family, since they believed you to be dead. Wolf had ordered you to stay on the ship. Why? You didn’t know.

This was your home planet after all. You knew about all the dangers, nothing could truly hurt you hidden out in the middle of nowhere. From what you could remember, Wolf placed the ship to be far from the origin. He said something about a gut feeling. Eh, you didn’t pay attention to him as he grumbled and gather his gear.

The two of you said your goodbyes to each other. Wolf went down the ramp, mask on, just like all the other times he has. You waved at him as the ramp started to close, locking you inside. It’s not like he has you trapped in here. You knew the code to leave if need be. He wouldn’t do that to you. There’s always a possibility that you needed to escape. One you didn’t believe in but let him have his way. If that made him content and knew you were safe, that’s all that matter to you as well.

When time passed at an unknown amount of time, just like any other time, you took roost in Wolf’s pilot chair. An action that didn’t save you. A book in hand, eyes scanning over the pages. One of the songs you liked hummed softly through the quiet air. Not a care or worry in the world. Nothing could hurt you while on your planet. That you believed in.

Something felt off. Your eyes lifted off of the page and snapped over to your water cup on the arm rest. The liquid inside was vibrating. Next, you peered over to the engine controls, thinking they somehow activated. Nothing. They were dormmate. That’s when you felt the pilot chair slightly tremble constantly underneath you. Huh?

You shifted to sit normally, gaze settling on the empty plains that sat out in front of the ship. Void of life and beings. If this was California, this could possibly be an earth quake? But you were unsure. You’ve never lived there. You didn’t know. That was the problem at hand.

Unable to relax or return to the book, you kept a flickering gaze on the scene before you. It was just you, the ship, and yellow sagebrush fields. The water kept rippling in its cup. It confused you on what could be causing that. An earthquake wouldn’t last this long. How right you were.

An idea came to mind. Wolf has taught you a few things about his ship, the basics in case of an emergency. You pressed a button on the console. A map of the scanned area appeared, like an aerial view of the plains.

Off to the ships, seven o’clock position was a small group of moving black dots. They were coming towards you. Oh shit! People. Not good. At all. They were heading towards the ship, towards you. Your quick fingers found the comm. Button close by and pressed it. Wolf kept his emergency comm. channel linked to the ship open at all time. For a situation that called for this.

“Wolf? There’s cars heading towards the ship. What should I do?” you questioned, eyes flickering back and forth the map. There’s been only two times you’ve flown the ship. Both opportunities have ended almost ended in a fiery explosion. You didn’t believe you could fly it again. Those chances were without stress. You weren’t worried there were people coming towards your camouflaged ship.

That thought made you paused. The shields were up… The camouflage was activated. How could they know where to drive? It wasn’t luck or chance they were heading in the right direction in the middle of nowhere. Wolf parked his vessel in the middle of nowhere. They shouldn’t know where to go unless…

Wolf hadn’t answered yet. “Wolf? Please, I don’t know what to do. I can’t fly this thing, you know that.” Silence from his end. You could almost groan at that. “Answer me! I need your help, Wolf!” you yelled as if that’ll help him hear you. Why wasn’t he answering? Fear gripped your heart in its deadly claws. Said organ thumping against its bony cage.

Your hands grasped the edge of the ship’s console, knuckles turning white. The vehicles continuously grew closer and closer and closer. Wolf didn’t respond. Had these people already got him? You blew that thought off though. This is Wolf you’re talking about. He took on a hybrid Xenomorph and Yautja. Probably one of the most deadly aliens out there known to existence. Best of all, the head is hung on his trophy wall.

Where are you, Wolf? Your head hung low. Solutions were running rampant in your mind. What to do? What to do? What could you do? Well, for starters, the ship. Its shields were strong, able to resist most blasts from enemy ships. So, these humans would struggle to break in. Yet, that didn’t quell your racing heart.

On the other hand, what couldn’t you do? Fly the damn thing. Wolf hasn’t taught you how to use the weapon system. Something about ‘oomans’ and killing themselves in stupid ways. In his own way, that’s him saying he loves you. You were fucked. You couldn’t escape with the ship. You couldn’t use the two massive guns attached to the belly. All you were a sitting duck for these humans to find and do whatever they want.

To be honest, you could hide. The ship offered many places for you squeeze yourself in. All you had to do was keep quiet and pray to Wolf’s god to keep you safe.

Contrary to belief, you would think living and being mates with a hunter/warrior race would automatically give you the knowledge to fight. Yeah, Wolf’s taught you a few things… it wasn’t going to be enough against the at least nine drivers of the vehicles.

With one last drop of hope, you pressed the comm. button once more. “They’re getting closer, Wolf. Please, I need you. I can’t fight them alone.” You held your breath, ears listening for anything that could signal he heard you.

Nothing. The last bit of hope in your heart was squeezed out. All you had was yourself now. He wasn’t responding which worried you. First, you had to ensure they didn’t get you. So when they leave, you could go find him; against his command before he left. Wolf always told you to stay on the ship. That’s where it was safer for you. He didn’t have to fret if you got yourself in trouble. You listened to him, knowing it was better to do so.

One last look at the map -the black dots less than a hundred yards away, you started to think on where to hide. Someplace they wouldn’t look for someone, if they were looking for you. That likelihood was extremely low. How would anyone know you’re with Wolf? You’re a random person who went missing.

On Wolfs ship, there are five rooms, not including the cockpit. Its not really a room, but oh well. First to come to mind was the kitchenette. That was quickly marked off the list. There was the cabinets to possible squeeze yourself in. You would have to displace some cooking wear. Anyone with a brain will be able to tell something was wrong in there.

Second on the list was the trophy room. Another place marked off. Unlike the kitchenette, it had no true places to hide away in. Only a few small drawers in Wolf’s desk he uses for his tools.

Next, the bedroom. The bed was large with a lot of blankets, courtesy to Wolf and his ability to hunt. Yet, to smother yourself underneath them all… you didn’t know how long they would the on the ship. You could slowly overheat and die or suffocate and die. Both options weren’t fun sounding. You crossed that one off as well.

At this point, you were running out time and rooms. The hull wasn’t going to offer you much either. It had boxes and crates expertly stacked. They were strapped down, filled with whatever Wolf like’s to haul through space. Again, taking the stuff out to hide inside of the crates would be stupid. These people will notice the items and think ‘let’s check these boxes’.

Last on the list was the sparring room. This was your best choice out of all the places this ship has. It had a couple cubby’s for weapons that were currently empty. Said weapons were out on their respected racks for Wolf to train with. You hoped he was okay. That it was just a fluke on him not answering the comm.

Since the sparring room offered the highest chance of survival, you hopped down from the chair. Three steps from the cockpit’s door, you heard the computer alert to a proximity breach. Shit, they were already outside the ship. Now wasn’t the time to screw around.

Quick, unsteady legs carried you to the second closest door to the right from the cockpit. It opened at your closeness. You skidded to a halt. The doors. They would open for them, besides the outside one. Another way Wolf tells you to say inside, where it was safe. It wasn’t going to be safe for much longer.

Your eyes flickered to the other doors. Terror gripped your heart. If you were to lock only one door, it would announce to the people outside that there was something important in there. Why else would it be lock while the others weren’t? Now, you only had two options: lock all the doors, loosing precious time or leave all the doors, lowering your chances for survival. The former would take time to do, time you don’t know if you had. The latter would offer more time to hide.

It's like you could hear Wolf whisper in your ear: give yourself a fighting chance. The second option was you rolling over and giving yourself to the group of people outside. One you didn’t want to do. Wolf would be so disappointed if he ever found out. Instead, you took the training he’s instilled into you to heart and changed tactics.

Let’s play a little Home Alone.

The kitchenette’s door opened at your proximity with a whoosh. The sight before you offered the same result to hiding, nowhere to truly squeeze yourself into. Your hand slapped against the touchpad next to the entrance of said room. Its metal door slid close at the command. You heard the tall tell sign of the lock clicking into place. One do-

An explosion rocked you off your feet, side slamming into the warm, metal ground. You hissed out in pain and sat up, hand rubbing at the aching area. Your vision swam for a moment, making you shake your head to clear it. What in the world was that?!

Then it hit you. The humans. What were they doing? A grunt escaped you as you returned to your feet, unsteady. By the sounds of it, they hadn’t breached the door yet. That left you with extra time to lock the rest and go into hiding.

With a newfound courage and energy, you raced against a fatal clock towards the next door. It was across the wide hallway, with a concave floor in the middle. Like a small common area for Yautjas to relax while traveling through space. You reached the trophy room gateway and did the same action as before. It locked before you. Another down. Just a couple more…

After quickly finishing with the third door – the bedroom, you sprinted towards the second to last one: the hull. If you got this locked, it would take them even longer to get into here. The main entrance was in there, sealing this do-

Before you could take a third step, a blast forced the ship to pitch. It threw you completely off balance, back bouncing off of the nearest wall. Then, you crashed back onto your formerly injured side. “Wolf!” You cried out, writhing for a long moment on the ground. That was going to heavily bruise later. That you could promise.

Voices. You paused, stilling completely, down your breath. Voices down below. You gasped, eyes wide and scrambled back to your unsteady feet. That door needed to be locked, no matter what now. Injured or not. That was your last of defense before they stormed the upper levels, where you were.

Now, with that on your mind, you uncoordinatedly ran towards the hull’s door. It opened, just like any of the others at your presences. An array of curse words pouring inside of your mind at this. Those former voice grew louder, their boots pounding against the metal floor. The next second, you hit the touchpad far harder than you meant to. The entrance before you closed on your command, sealing the second to last door to you.

As much as you wished to take a second to breathe, you jogged over to the last door. “Get this door open!” someone shouted from the other side when you weren’t even two steps away from it. Already?! How quick were these guys?

When you stepped into the room, about to spin around to close it off, another explosion had you stumbling out of it. Before you know it, you were on the cockpits floor.

Through the pain and splitting headache, you staggered over to the panel. On the other side of the room, smoke encased the hull’s door. A flash of red dots could seen marking the smoke. Guns. They had guns. You don’t know why you thought that be news. If these guys know what they’re doing on a Yautja’s ship, of course they would have weapon. Fear still slapped you in the face. You weren’t your boyfriend. He could survive many shots from a gun. You couldn’t.

Your hand slapped against the touchpad, sealing you from them. For the time being. With how quick they were able to knock down the hull’s door… you didn’t have hope they wouldn’t be able to do the same to the others. You turned around though, eyes scanning over the limited area in here. One entrance, one exit. You stuck in here.

An idea came to mind. A while back, Wolf had to do some work on the navigation after a run in with a large beast on a random planet. He took you under his wing and had you sit next to him as he worked. He didn’t talk and just showed you what he did. It’s not like you could ever do it yourself without his help. You didn’t dare touch any of the important ship’s wiring, in case you screwed something up. He knew what he was doing. You’ll happily sit there, twiddling your thumbs while observing.

The spot you were thinking of was underneath the control console. It offered a hidden spot off to the side, away from sight. You could possibly squeeze yourself behind the panel. The area there was small and tight, even for a human. It would luck to be able to fully close it. Yet, it was better than just standing he-

“Find that pet of his!” The earth stopped spinning; your thoughts came to a screeching halt. What?! They know of you. It had to be you they were talking about. Why are they coming for you? How do they even know?! Your heart felt like it dropped six feet underground. You stumbled backwards, back against the closed door, hand on your sternum. They were looking for you. They have guns. You were going to die. They were going to kill you. Why? Why?! Your brain screamed at you. Tears started to dribbled down your cheeks as all you could was lean heavily against the door. They were going to kill you.

The only thing stopping you from accidentally announcing where you were was the hand over your mouth. It held in the sobs, the cries, the whimpers. What you couldn’t hold back was the tears staining your face.

Wolf was going to come back from his hunt to find you dead, your brain splattering his ship’s cockpit. Why didn’t he answer? Where was he? Why did he leave? He should’ve never come back here. Earth was bad. It held bad memories. It’s going to hold more. You dead. He’s going to go after them but it won’t bring you back. You’re going to die. They’re going to kill you.

One last sporadic drop of hope entered your heart. It might been the adrenaline racing the organ to feel that way or the terror that squeezed it. You’ll never know. You sprinted towards the control console, seeing the comm. channel light still on. “Wolf, please, I need you!” you whimpered, hands grasping the metal so tightly your knuckles turned ghost white. “They’re here. They’re on the ship. They have guns. They know I’m here. They’re looking for me.”

The longer you talked, the more it seemed you were going down a spiral. Big, fat, globs of tears splattered against the console. You sobbed, no longer caring how quiet you were. “They’re going to kill me, Wolf. I’m going to die. I don’t want to die. I need you, please!” you cried to him and fell to your knees. your head bowed, forehead touching the edge of the dashboard.

Your shoulders shook, sobs leaving your mouth freely. They had to have heard you at this point but you didn’t care now. All you wanted was Wolf to be here. Here with his arms around your body and protect you from the calling of death. “I don’t want to die,” you whimpered, eyes blurry with tears. “They’re going to kill me.” You were too caught up to hide. It was too late.

One last blast knocked down your last line of defense. You stood up and spun around at the same time, back leaning heavily on dashboard. Smoke clouded the most likely demolished doorway now. You held your breath, waiting for a bullet to pierce the unknown and strike you.

Instead, it was them that breached the heavy smoke. When their gazes immediately landed on you, all of their weapons faced you. “Hands up!” one shouted and used the barrel of his gun to motioned for you to put them up. Terror washed over your face at the sight. It froze you in the very spot you stood in.

“No, no, no, no,” you mumbled, shaking like a leaf. This is where you die. Wolf was somewhere far away, not answering the call. He’s going to come back to you dead. On the cockpit’s floor of his ship, cold and lifeless.

“Get the fuck on the ground, fucker!” another demanded of you. Move, your brain screamed at you. Move! Do something. Anything. Just move!

You fell to your knees, hands gripped in front of in a plea. “Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me,” you begged of them. Out of the seven of them, you saw the closest one’s eyes crinkle. He was smirking. He stepped towards you, staying a decent distance away. His gun continuously pointed at your head, finger on the trigger. Your body shook, eyes wide as you watched him, unable to move.

Said man chuckled, shoulders shaking with the action. “I won’t if you listen to us very carefully. None of us are afraid to pull the trigger and end you. Leave you here, deader than a doorknob,” he snarked and motioned with his gun for you to get on the ground. “Now, face down, hands behind your back.”

It struck you. They weren’t going to kill you. They were going to take you. You didn’t know what was worse. Being captured or head blown to pieces right here. Captured means they’re probably going to torture you. They’re going to ask about Wolf and when you don’t give in, they’re going to hurt you. You weren’t prepared for that.

“No!” you shouted at him, teeth gritting against one another. A slow, molasses of courage starting to seep into your veins. Wolf would want you to fight. You were going to fight. You weren’t going to let them capture you. You weren’t going to give up Wolf.

A chorus of laughter erupted from the group. The closest barked his laugh before marching up to you and shoving the barrel of the gun into your head. From the headache and bruising side, you hissed. “It think’s he has a choice, boys. What do you say? Show it how wrong it is?” he questioned his fellow patriots and kept the barrel of the gun pressed into your head. You refused to go down so easily.

Similar to yourself, you know where to hurt a man. Your fist curled into a shaky fist as your head turned to stared him in the eye. A newfound fire flickering to life within your eyes.

It was like he read your mind. The bottom of his combat boots met your uninjured side and sent you sprawling across the floor. You cursed as pain flooded your left side.

Before you could get back up, a knee knocked the air out of your lungs and stayed glued to your back. The barrel was returned to the side of your head. “See? Wasn’t that easy to just listen. You must do it for your owner all the time.” Owner? Who is he talking about?

“Get off of me!” you yelled at him and squirmed, doing everything in your power to get back up. The clicking of a gun cocking stopped you in your tracks. “If you kill me, there won’t be anywhere on this planet you can hide. He will kill you.”

“Your owner won’t do anything. You’re just his pet, a plaything to him. He’ll leave you to rot in the cell we put you in.” That former fear began to creep back inside of your heart. Wolf wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t leave you behind.

“You’re an ass,” you growled at him. That only earned you a chuckle from him and the others around. It was weak, nothing more than a mosquito flying around. Said man shoved his knee further into your back, forcing you to cry out. “Get off of me, you cunt!”

“Ohhh, the pet has a mouth of it. I thought that alien would’ve made you learn by now,” the leader – as you’ve named him, taunted before whacking you with the butt of his gun. You gasped, vision blurring for a moment. “Got nothing to say now?” You stayed quiet, not wanting to get hit again. “Look, boys. We did a better job than that alien.”

The others laughed with him. Humiliation flooded your veins. You had no choice but to listen now. They had made it clear they were willing to hurt you to get their way. “Alright, boys, get this thing cuffed and head out. I don’t want to stay here any longer than we need to be.”

That last sentence peaked your interest. They were scared of Wolf. Well, of course, who wouldn’t be? He’s a highly, well trained hunter with hundreds of years of experience underneath his belt. The first time you saw him, you were terrified of him. It’s a natural reaction to him.

Cuffed? They were going to take you. Capture you. Possibly torture you for information about Wolf. Information you’re not willing to give up so easily. Yet, you’re not trained. “No!” you snapped and struggled underneath him. You weren’t going to be taken! You didn’t want to be.

“Oh shut up, pet. I’ve had my fun and you’ve had your moment. We’re leaving with you alive or dead. Doesn’t matter to us. We get paid all the same.” One of the other soldiers entered your personal space and handed the leader a pair cuffs. The latter gave a gruff thanks. He hooked his weapon with a strap across his back. With the newly acquired cuffs, he snatched both of your hands and twisted them behind your back.

Your heart stuttered in its bony cage. Terror entered your veins as the first biting, cold cuff encircled your wrist. “Wolf!” you cried out, voice wavering with that one word. “Please Wolf. They’re going to take me.” You knew he couldn’t hear your pleas. You knew he hadn’t answered your calls. He somewhere far away, hopefully okay. It matter to you that you tried.

Where was he? You wanted him here, with his arms around you, protecting you. You didn’t care if he killed them and embraced you the moment after. You wouldn’t care about the stench or sight. You wanted Wolf right now.

The knuckles of a furled fist connected with the side of your head. You groaned. “Shut up, before you blow your brains out right here.” Before you had a chance, the same cold, bitter feeling of the second cuff encased your other wrist. They had you cuffed and ready to be taken. Why didn’t you just hide? Why were you so stupid sometimes in the face of danger? Why wasn’t Wolf here?

With the help of the second closest soldier – the one that handed the leader a pair of cuffs, they both easily lifted you off of the floor. Each had an arm under your pits and dragged you from the cockpit. The fight inside of you was gone before it had time to bloom.  You were captured, injured and crying silently. Tears stained your cheeks, falling to the warm metal floors.

Unbeknownst to you, Wolf heard every word, every cry for help. He heard your pleads for him as he raced back, full speed ahead. His older body aching more than ever to reach you in time. He heard the nasty name they called you. Those pyode-amedha were going to pay for laying a hand on you.

Wolf skidded to a stop in the cockpit. Your pungent odor of fear assaulted him. It was too late. The walls shook with a mighty, deafening roar.

[ghostofskywalker]

Hello I was wondering if I could request an echo x gnreader where they are in the middle of a battle and like the reader is close to an explosion and gets injured?

(I'm sorry if you do no understand)

hi! here it is, i hope you enjoy :)

words: 1,697

summary: For as long as he's been traveling with the Bad Batch, Echo had no problem always sticking to the plan, no matter what the battles threw at him. But when you're injured in an explosion, it suddenly gets a little more difficult to listen to instructions.

clone troopers masterlist

Concussions and Cuddling

The mission was going perfectly smoothly until an explosion wracked the Separatist base they were running through. Echo turned to look at Wrecker, a confused expression on his face (even though his helmet was covering it). “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” his brother answered, tightening his grip on the box they had been sent there to acquire. “But we need to get out of here.”

“I agree.”

The plan was simple, the group was divided into three teams of two: Wrecker and Echo, Tech and Omega, and you and Hunter. Each team had a different job, and once they were done everyone would meet back at the ship. Tech and Omega had completed their objective first by getting into the security systems and disabling all the alarms (so they were the first ones to arrive back), and Wrecker and Echo had gotten the package that Cid had sent them for. You and Hunter were looking for surplus droid parts that could provide them with an extra bonus on the market (because being a fugitive wasn’t exactly the most comfortable of lifestyles).

“Tech, do you know what that noise was?” Echo asked into his comm.

But before Tech could respond, Hunter answered the question. “The North end of the building was set to self destruct, probably if the Separatists lost the base, but the mechanism was faulty and clearly never went off when it was supposed to. Unfortunately, it meant that it went off now, completely untriggered.”

“Are you both okay?”

“I’m fine, other than a few scrapes and inevitable bruises. But Y/N got hit with a lot more of the debris and is currently unconscious, we’re going to need the ship to come here and get us.”

“I’m coming over there,” Echo said suddenly. “What’s your position?”

“No,” Hunter’s voice was firm. “If you and Wrecker are close to the Marauder, stick to the original plan. Once you two and the cargo are on board, then you can come get us.”

“Hunter-” Echo started to protest.

“That’s an order.”

Echo was not happy about this, but he did as the sergeant said, continuing to run with Wrecker until they reached the ship. As soon as the hatch closed behind them, Echo raced to the cockpit and sat down next to Tech. He grabbed the comm from the dashboard of the ship. “Hunter, we’re in the Marauder now,” he said, his voice taking on a slightly harsher tone than it usually did. “What is your position?”

When the location came through, Echo barely heard the sounds of takeoff, his mind was running too quickly. After he heard that you had been injured, nothing seemed to matter. If any of his brothers asked, he would quickly deny having any feeling for the team’s unofficial mechanic, but deep down he knew that was a bold faced lie. He couldn’t help the way he was drawn to you, and he also considered you his best friend on the ship. If the others knew they would no doubt pressure him to say something, to try and build that bridge between friendship and romance, but Echo was scared. Maybe it was a bit cowardly, but he was sure that you didn’t feel the same way about him, and he’d rather keep things the way they were than potentially give you reason to leave.

At that moment he didn’t care what it may look like, he just rushed down the ramp and leaped back down onto the ground where you and Hunter were. Weaving through the maze of fallen debris, he finally reached you, and even though he couldn’t see Hunter’s face, he was sure there was a disappointed expression on it. You were still unconscious, and he called for Wrecker to come get you while he raced back up and tried to set up their makeshift medbay for your needs.

There was a nasty bump on your head from where a falling piece of the ceiling had hit you, and your face was bloody from other scrapes and debris. You were going to need bacta at least, but it likely couldn’t do anything to but superficially heal some of your head injury, especially if you had sustained a concussion.

You didn’t wear as much as armor as the rest of them did (something he had tried to talk to you about several times before), so it was easy to removed the plates you did wear after Wrecker laid you down on the cot and left to go talk to Tech and Omega in the cockpit. Hunter was able to apply bacta to his own wounds, and the room was completely silent as Echo started to do the same for you.

He thanked the maker that the wounds you had were only on your head and arms, and that none of the debris had impacted your legs or lower body. Once you woke up, you would be able to walk just fine, and it would be all about taking it easy to heal the concussion Echo was increasingly sure you had.

Eventually, after he was done applying bacta to his cuts, Hunter broke the silence. “Why haven’t you said anything about how you feel?”

“What are you talking about?” Echo’s eyes widened and he was glad that Hunter was unable to see his expression because he was putting bacta on the last of your cuts and scrapes.

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

“You think I don’t know how you feel? We all care about Y/N, but it’s clear that your feelings are a little different than the rest of team.”

“I don’t-”

“Echo,” Hunter said, cutting him off. “The entire time you’ve been traveling with us, you’ve always followed the plan, you’ve always been levelheaded, even when we were faced with dangers far more intense than we could ever imagine. But this time, when I radioed in to tell everyone about the situation, it was like you went a little rogue. I already had my suspicions, but this only confirms it. What I don’t understand is why you won’t say anything about how you feel.”

Echo sighed and turned to face his brother. There was nothing more he could do to help you at this point, and he didn’t really want to have this conversation, but it had to happen eventually. “I don’t say anything because I would rather pine in secret than have to hear that my feelings are not reciprocated. It’s already torturous to live through now, but I can’t imagine what it would feel like to no longer get to talk to the person I consider a very close friend. You remember how long it took us to find a mechanic that was willing to work with us, right? I’m not going to jeopardize that.”

“And it wouldn’t be a big deal if we had to find another one, but that’s so unlikely to happen and you know it. You need to tell Y/N how you feel, because your feelings are reciprocated and I hate to sit around and watch you two pine for each other.”

Echo opened his mouth to respond, but heard your voice (or a very scratchy and quiet version of it) coming from behind him. “What did you say?” you asked.

Hunter looked absolutely delighted at the sudden change in situation, and he was out of the room quicker than anyone else could blink. Echo (after resolving to get his brother back later) turned around to face you. “What did you hear?” he asked gently.

“My name,” you said, trying to sit up on the cot but then stopping when he gave you a look. “And then Hunter implying that you had feelings for me.”

“I do,” Echo admitted, almost too quiet for himself to hear. “And I know what Hunter said, but you don’t have to lie to me if you don’t feel the same way.”

“Echo, I like you too.”

He didn’t really process your words, instead just looking down at the ground. “I figured, and - wait, did you just say you liked me?”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “You’d think I wasn’t the one with the concussion here, you know. My head hurts like hell and I can still understand what’s going on.”

“I’m sorry,” he said gently, stepping up next to you and taking your hand.

He helped to move you so you were sitting up, and you smiled at him. “While we were in that base, Hunter was trying to convince me to tell you how I felt,” you said. “I didn’t realize that apparently he was going to try to get you to do the same.” Echo smiled, and you shifted over in the cot so there was room for another. “And now that we’ve got the hard part of this out of the way, I want to cuddle with you.”

Echo shook his head, even though it was hurting every bone in his body to say no. “You’re still healing.”

You pouted at his words. “Oh come on, I’ve got a small concussion and a few scrapes, I’m not on my deathbed!”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“How would you do that? Death by cuddling?” you asked, and you shook your head when he opened his mouth to respond. “Nope, I don’t want to hear it. Please come here, I can tell that you’re tired and need rest.” He didn’t have it in him to deny that request, and he couldn’t help the feeling of happiness that flooded through him as you laid your head on his shoulder. “See? I’m not dead, so you can get rid of the guilty conscience.”

A small laugh escaped his lips, and he had to admit you were right. “Why don’t we just try to get some rest?” he said, his hand finding yours.

He’d have to say something to Hunter later, because it was partly his insistence and meddling that got Echo to this point, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. This moment was something he’d dreamed about for so long, and he wanted to enjoy it.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[bluegalaxygirl]

Old Friends (Zosan X reader) P3

Plot: Reader is the 9th doctors old assistant but soon moved on to other things, joining the straw hat pirates and falling in love but now their paths cross again (only he has a new face, 10th Doctor) when they go to see an old friend in a strange hospital. Unfortunately there's some one else there that wants to start trouble.

One piece and Doctor who cross over (10th doctor), its based off the new earth episode. i thought since David tenant as the doctor is coming back in November it would be good to get this idea out.

Reader is Female (Sorry), Zoro X Sanji X reader, Poly relationship, established relationship.

Warning: Illness, Death and Bad language.

P1 - P2 - P4 - P5 - P6 - P7 - P8 - P9 - P10 - P11 - P12 - P13 - P14 - P15

It was just after breakfast when Nami called out saying we're close, everyone headed to the deck to either help out or look out into the open ocean "There's nothing here" Luffy pouts looking over the side with Chopper and Usopp. "Remember what i said yesterday Luffy" you called out walking up to Nami as she stands at the front of the ship with the button in hand looking over the hologram coming out of it showing the map. The green dot indicating the sunny is almost on the hospital symbol making you smile a little "We're better off just cursing through" you tell her taking the button off her to set things up, The navigator nods and turns to the rest of the crew down bellow yelling out orders as you place the button on the outside of the ship. Pushing it until the hologram disappears and you hear a click, letting go it stays stuck to the ship a light blue glow now surrounding the button "Everything set up, now we just sail in" you smile walking over to Nami who looks at you a bit nervous not sensing any weather changes even though there supposed to be near an island "Are you sure this is right?" you place a hand on the navigators shoulder and nod giving her some reassurance before turning to look ahead.

As the ship slowly moves forwards the wind blows in a familiar smell, you breathe it in and smile the others heading to the front, so they can see what's going on. "Is that apples?" Sanji asks standing next to you and sniffing the air, you take his hand in yours nodding as Zoro stands behind you wrapping his arm around your waist. A shimmer of different colors ripples in front of the sunny as it pushes through, the shimmer going over the whole ship bringing it in and raveling a small island surrounded by smooth waves. The island has three buildings that all attach through walkways, two long white towers with the hospital symbol stand next to a glass dome in the middle. The area around the buildings is mainly sandy beaches or bright green grassy hills. Down the beach is a long set or docks and an area where strange vehicles are parked, you've seen them before, shuttle crafts that can fly through space. You look over at your crew to see a mix of emotions, surprise, wonder, excitement and disbelief. "We should head to the docks then i can show you around" You smile snapping them out of their trances, they nod as Nami gives them orders.

Stepping onto the white metal docks you look around at the strange ships in the water, none of them made of wood or metals form earth and most of them where smaller than the sunny. You recognized a few knowing what planet they come form but your snapped out of your thoughts by Luffy landed next to you after jumping off the ship "Wow this is so cool" he yells out looking at all the ships as the others walk down the ramp to joining you. "Are they alien?" Franky asks looking over the metal of one ships across form the sunny "Yes. As far as i know where the only humans who have seen this place" you nod walking down the docks as the others follow. Sanji takes your hand with a cigarette in his mouth, his other hand holding onto Zoro, so he doesn't wonder off, it may be a small island, but he still doesn't want the swordsman to get lost. You remember giving Sanji his cigarettes back this morning and the relief on his face as he cried into your legs saying he won't smoke that much again. Making it off the dock and walking along the long white path stretching along the beach you stop after hearing Chopper and Nami gasp "It's so cute" They both yell out walking over to the grass and looking at a strange bug in the grass, it looked like a mix between a butterfly and a dragonfly. You laugh at them before turning to see Luffy, Usopp and Franky running into the nearby parking lot to look over the shuttle crafts while Robin and Brook kept an eye on them to make sure they didn't damage anything. "Oh i almost forgot, wait here" you smile up at Sanji letting go do his hand and walking into the grassy area.

Sanji reluctantly lets you go as Zoro puts an arm around the cook's waist "Hay calm down, she's ok" The swordsman reassures the cook who looks up at the green haired man and nods. Walking up to a large bush made of grass you pull some out and head back over holding it out to Sanji and Zoro who both look at it confused "Its grass" The swordsman comments making you laugh and shake your head "Its apple grass, smells and tastes like apples" you smile taking a strand and eating it, the sweet taste of apples fills your scenes making you hum in delight. Sanji takes the cigarette out of his mouth and grabs a strand smelling it before biting into it, his eyes widening at the strong taste of apple "Wow... how?" he asks looking at you only for you to shrug "Honestly I don't know but its fitting don't you think? An apple a day keep the doctor away" you laugh a little as Zoro rolls his eyes at you but decides to take the last piece of grass you offer him and try it out. Sanji puts his cigarette back and watches Zoro eat the grass trying to see if the swordsman likes it or not. "Oh by the way, you can't smoke in the hospital" you give the cook a sympathetic look but to your surprise Sanji only taking one more puff of his cigarette before putting it out and throwing it into a nearby bin. "Good boy" you step closer letting his arm wrap around your waist as you lean up to kiss him, the cook leans into it rubbing your back a little after you pull away.

Zoro give you two a smug smile "Such a sap" The swordsman squeezes the cook's waist making the blonde blush "Don't know what your smiling about, No weapons are aloud either" your comment makes Sanji snicker and the swordsman's smile fade turning to you with a shocked look "W-What?" Zoro stutters his hand going to his swords attached to his hip "Their aloud in the lobby but if you want to come up with me they can't come." You sigh knowing how much his swords mean to him but you have to follow the rules. Stepping closer to Zoro you place your hand on his thats on top of his swords "I know you don't want too but it's the rules" With a sigh Zoro rests his forehead on your shoulder and takes your hand "Do i have too?" he groans making you chuckle a little "I'm sorry hunk but please, I'd like you both with me" you pull his face to meet yours, seeing your kind smile he nods placing a kiss on your lips as he wraps an arm around your waist "Ok.. where do i leave them?" he asks the words hurting his chest as he talks "Well i can't take everyone up with me so you can leave them with one of the others, or they have lockers but the big ones are expansive" you smile up at him happy he's willing to part with his swords for an hour or so. Sanji leans closer and grabs Zoro's chin "Good boy" he smiles making the swordsman blush a little.

You all make your way into the hospital through the glass dome in the middle, The white walls and floors are beyond clean and the smell of disinfectant lingers in the air. Different aliens walk around talking in their native language, some have translates around their necks, so they can communicate better. A nurse sits at the large round counter facing the door, her gloved hands typing away on a keyboard. She's wearing a white nurses uniform, gloves, hat and sheet covering her face hiding what she looks like, You remember it has something to do with stopping illnesses form passing to the nurses. Her head moves to look up at you "Can i help you?" she asks her voice smooth and slightly high-pitched calls out to you all, somehow seeing you through the sheet. Sanji can't help but smile at her sweet voice leaning on the counter with his hand in yours "Hello, i'm here to see the Face of Boe" you say handing her the letter you revised. Her gloved hand reaches up and takes it while her other hand pulls the sheet up tucking it into her hat, a furry cat like face looks down at the letter, brown short fur, a black nose and green eyes scan over the letter. "Cool your a cat" Luffy jumps up beside you only for Nami and Usopp to grab him and shove their hands over his mouth, the nurse looks up with an amused smile "Your all human i'm guessing... first time here?" she asks typing away on her computer before handing you back the letter. Franky and Robin lean over to look at what she's doing, amazed by the technology "For them it is" you reply the cat lady laughing a little looking at each member of the crew "well welcome, I'll explain the rules to you all, no weapons are aloud anywhere but this floor, the elevators will detect it and send security, the elevators also wash everyone down in disinfectant and dry you off so please don't panic when that happens. The elevator is voice activated so just say the floor you need. We have a canteen on the right thats open all the time. There is no smoking, vaping, alcohol -" as she rambles on most of the crew listens but upon hearing about the canteen, Luffy starts making his way their, Usopp running after him to drag him back.

After she's finally done telling you all everything you need to know you thank her and pull the others away. "That was a lot" Nami sighs as you place an arm around her to comfort her. "If this is all too much you can go back to the ship" You smile at her letting everyone know they don't have to be here if they don't want to be "No way this place is awesome, Lets get some food i'm starving" Luffy yells throwing his arms up heading into the canteen with Usopp in toe "You just had breakfast an hour ago" Sanji yells his hand still in yours while pulling Zoro along "Yea but that was an hour ago Sanji" Luffy groans as you all make it into the large canteen "I can't take you all up to see him so its best if most of you stay here" you comment hoping to calm the situation down as you find a table to sit at. The canteen is surrounded by windows with booths, coffee tables and sofa's neatly lined up and down the room. Luffy flops down on the sofa looking out the large window next to him, it had a very good view of the docks and the parking lot. Nami takes a seat next to him after calming down deciding to stay. You stand behind one of the sofas Sanji's arm now round your waist standing next to you as Zoro sits on the arm of the sofa looking around the room. They both said they would come up with you for support so didn't bother getting comfy like the others. "This place is amazing" Usopp comments sitting in front of you as you take a bag of money out from your pocket and hand it to the sniper "Don't spend it all at once. Berries don't work here so you'll have to use that" Nami stands from her seat and glares at you "Why did you give it to him?" The navigator points at the long nosed man "Because i want it spent wisely and i want the left overs back." The navigator flops back down pouting with her arms over her chest.

"Y/N?" A strange voice calls your name, looking up you see a man with brown thick hair sticking up slightly and a very handsome face with dark brown eyes. His smile shows pure white teeth and cute dimples, he's tall and thin, a long brown jacket hanging on his body along with a white shirt, red tie and brown striped pants and waist coat. You don't know anyone who looks like him but his smile seems so familiar and than it hits you. "Wh-" Zoro looks up at you only for you to rush past him and over to the man "Doctor" you smile wide jumping into the doctors arms with a big smile, both of you laughing as he holds you tight. "It's so good to see you again" The doctor smiles lifting you off the ground as he hugs you tight. Zoro looks over the man, he's nothing like you described but then again you did say he'll change his appearance when he dies. Sanji steps closer to Zoro glaring at the doctor, he's trying not to get jealous but can't help it when your so happy to see the man and jump into him like that. Robin smiles and laughs looking at how happy you are while Nami blushes a little, realizes how handsome the doctor is. The others smile watching you reunite with the man "It's good to see you too, wow you... your not ginger" You pull out of the hug to look at him as you laugh ruffling his thick brown hair "I know, i'm disappointed too" The doctor sighs removing your hand from his hair "You look different too" The man looks you up and down making Sanji growl a little catching the doctor's attention "New friends?" The brown haired man asks as you nod.

Taking the Doctors hand you pull him over to the crew "This the crew i joined, a pirate crew and guy this is the doctor" you state letting go of his hand "Luffy is the captain" Luffy jumps up at you calling his name nodding to the man next to you "Luffy... Monkey D Luffy? Nice to meet you, i've heard of you" The comment doesn't surprise you since the doctor spends quite a bit of time on earth and has probably seen his wanted poster "Yep, thats me" Your captain smiles adjusting his hat, as you introduce the doctor to everyone you leave the best for lest taking Sanji's and Zoro's hands "And this is Zoro our Swordsman and Sanji our cook, my boys" you wink at the doctor letting him know what they are to you. The doctor smiles at the two and holds out his hand to Zoro first who shakes it quite happily before the brown haired man turns to Sanji and offers his hand "It's nice to meet you both" Feeling better about the situation Sanji takes the mans hand and shakes it "It's nice to meet you too" The cook lets go of the mans hand and squeezes your hand as you smile up at him "So I'm guessing your here to see Boa too?" The doctor turns to you turning a little serious now "Yea, although it was addressed to the both of us" you state seeing the man nod "It was the same with mine but I didn't know how to contact you." the Doctor sighs before getting back on topic "I haven't seen Boa yet, you want to head up with me?" You nod at the man before looking at your two boys but lingering on Zoro who sighs taking his swords off his belt and handing them to Chopper while Sanji hands his lighter to Robin "Oh i was hoping to come" The reindeer looks up with big eyes pulling at your heart strings "Of course you can" Chopper smiles up at you and hands the three swords to Brook "I'll guard them with my life, well what's left of it anyway" The skeleton laughs making the swordsman sigh taking your hand.

[powertaco]

Vol 9 Spoiler Rant (aka I have waited and thought on it and still dont’ like it/Ranting ahead

I hate Volume 9

I’ll start by saying that upfront so you aren’t shocked or surprised by a conclusion later down the line, and can leave if the notion of disliking it offends you.

I don’t doubt I’ll get many blocks or people who disagree with this take, which is fair since I’m putting the opinion out there and should be able to take it on the chin or stand by it. 

This will contain spoilers for V9, my thoughts on a lot of things, ships, and what not so if you want to turn back now the back button is over yonder.

If it’s disjointed I apologize but I’m not feeling my best, and the longer I think about it the more I dislike it and I’m sick of pretending and being toxically positive about it.

First off I’ll get a few things out of the way as things I approve of. 

The animation has largely grown phenomenally. There’s a few moments that are a little out of it (yo why you got a 3 foot neck Weiss?), but for the most part considering where we came from in the bass on the wall days of Volume 1. Big win here. 

The music. Good work Casey. Red Like Roses 3 is a banger, inside is great, and checkmate is…something. Overall good stuff. 

VA work. Good deal. Rob nails his ‘surprise’ villain as he always nails his roles but people seem to be putting their all into it. No hate here, and these guys clearly brought their A game. Good work!

This volume as a whole is very middling to me, bordering on bad depending on if or how V10 recontextualizes things that happened, which I will try to go into later. 

Essentially if you were a big fan of Bees this might be one of your favorites, but if you’re just kinda neutral to them like me then the volume didn’t have a lot to offer you and didn’t do much to really move the story forward.

Remember when Ambro said don’t fall in V8 like it was a big ominous thing, and remember how it ended up being almost entirely beneficial? Yeah so V9 was like that. Setting up stuff for an instant week to week payoff regardless of if it hurt the story or not cause we need that interest spiked to greenlight V10. 

For a Volume that took so long to make the entire thing is remarkably rushed. 

Why do Ruby and Weiss talk so little? Serious question. Even if you don’t ship them they’re supposed to be canon best friends, and yet they share almost as many lines together in the last few seasons as they do with Ren. In case you were wondering that’s not many. 

We had a reduced cast of characters and almost none of them can actually be bothered to interact meaningfully.

Why does Weiss and everyone keep ditching Ruby except Little? Ruby has a basically perfect assassin after her, and in the market everyone ditches her cause of nose hairs. 

But what can they do against Neo? Nothing, but they could maybe point her out, or talk and help distract her rather than leaving her to her own devices when she’s clearly not feeling well. 

Sometimes having someone there for you can help a lot, but instead we need to have Weiss backslide and the others abandon her so she can be alone to meet the smith. 

This is bad writing. I’m sorry but it is. Had this been Volume 1-3 Weiss? Sure I could buy this, but this is not that Weiss. If you need to have Ruby be alone to meet the smith, work harder. You had years for this. This would have gotten a C at best in a writing class with a see me after class/don’t keep using coincidences like this note attached to it. 

If you’re going to tell me I’m not a professional writer so I can’t critique then that’s asinine. I don’t drive trucks for a living but if I see one ramp off a cliff and into a pit I can tell you that, that guy/gal has messed up.

If Weiss wanted to help cheer on or try to get Bees together then that’s an even worse reason as the aforementioned ASSASSIN is after her partner.

“Oh but Neo wouldn’t attack in a busy market!” My guy do you know Neo “i live only to murder this woman’ AT ALL? There’s an amusing quote I can ascribe to her actions “i will kill as many people as I have to as long as you are one of them!” 

There was a reason the meme, ‘squads that would treat Ruby better’ was going around through volume 9 and even included pictures of villains. 

Blake and Ruby never talk outside of that one scene in V8, and Yang has focused way more on Blake and way less on being a sister. 

I’ve seen people defend her actions as being a target for her sister’s actions when she steps in front of Blake, but please note Yang just let her yell at Weiss and did nothing, until she starts yelling at Blake. 

Yeah, no I’m sorry she lets her have a go at Weiss and then when her girlfriend is getting her feefees hurt then she steps in. Her talking to her sister after the hound was nice (but again prob would have been a decent Weiss moment)

That’s bullshit. Had Yang stepped in or tried to when she was talking to Weiss then I could buy this, but as is it’s just another thing to hold against her. 

The bees eat a lot of screentime. If you’re a bee fan this is great. If you want story progression, this is not. 

The world bends and revolves around them very literally. We need to have a confession bridge show up so they can confess but we can’t get a ‘you have to talk about what’s bothering you’ camp you can’t leave until you talk things out for Ruby?

What are the rules of ever after? Basically w/e so the only reason Ruby can’t get that is cause well we want a breakdown. Again great writing. 

But let’s talk about it. Ruby has a breakdown. She complains there’s no time for her. It’s tragic because she’s put a lot of stuff on her own shoulders and internalized it. 

Good acting here, even from Jaune. 

Weiss puts out a hand and she flies away. 

When our heroes next see her she’s drank suicide tea. You can claim after the fact that ascension isn’t that (but i’m sorry that’s how it’s framed and the whole zooming into Yang’s eye thing is explicitly treated like it’s meant to be a big deal and get people talking)

Tragic truly, but you know what she believes in herself now, and now she’s all better. Her depression and desire to die are gone. I don’t know how it helps with Salem, as I’d be willing to bet Summer also believed in herself but it didn’t seem to help her much. If they go more into this in V10 I will retract this and accept it but I’m not in the mood to be forgiving to them atm.

Also again right after Ruby ‘kills’ herself they stop to help Jaune…just I’m sorry what?

Jaune still takes up too much time and serves a role that’s almost not needed and I don’t even hate or dislike him. His interesting development is stripped away at the end. 

By deaging Jaune now they can’t explain where they were with any real proof. A few scroll pics of a weird cat thing isn’t going to cut it. 

He has a few gray stripes and will likely go back to acting like he normally does and other than Nora ragging him about them once or twice will likely not be mentioned again. He may on occasion get to say something ‘wise’ but I’m doubting it since he went back to being the same almost right away. 

So rather than an aged, mature, and slightly damaged man going back and having to relate to his friends/people he knew he’s the same. Awesome development. 

Plus side is that now that deaging is canon DWR can still win! Anyway he takes entirely too much focus away. 

Ruby complains about how they have no time cause they have to help Jaune, and what do they do almost instantly after she ‘kills’ herself? Stop and help Jaune. It’s tonal whiplash. 

I get that JNPR are supposed to be deuteragonist but holy hell almost all the time goes to Jaune who is by far the least interesting of the bunch imo even with all the time dumped into him. 

Can we get more Ren and Nora? This could have been a good way for Nora to ‘learn’ who she is without Ren. 

If Nora had fallen(say off her hammer into the void at the start from Cinder during the scuffle with Penny in the air) and they met a wizened Nora who tried to act chipper but was clearly putting up a front it would be a great foil/combo with Ruby. 

It would also make her reuniting with Ren and being ready for a relationship in the next volume all the sweeter. 

We spend an episode on the red prince. Neat. You know what would have been better for it? Almost anything else, say perhaps after Ruby’s ‘suicide’ they spend a few frantic minutes trying to get to the tree until they see the reincarnated paper pleasers and then are like oh, ok so she’ll prob come back/be alright instead of just ‘we did what we can’. 

Girl I love you Weiss but you all did jack shit. You made one half hearted effort and stopped, and then every time Ruby might have gotten to talk they needed to help Jaune or something interrupted. 

Good work being the best partner ever by the way especially when Ruby spends a large portion of the volume helping you with all your problems and rushing to your side without a bit of hesitation and in return you muster up…about nothing. 

They did it in genlock and did it twice in this volume and arguably with Penny/Vine last volume. “Suicide is great!” Please stop doing this. 

Speaking of Penny if you like her you might want to get CRWBY to be pallbearers at your funeral so they can let you down one last time. 

If you liked Nuts’ and Dolts even more condolences. They’d have many chances to imply deeper feelings than friendship between them and take none of them. Her farewell song is called Friend where she talks about being friends with Ruby. 

During the fight with her clones, the Penny clone never once says she loves her. This is Neo, mouse killer and person with the largest hateboner for Ruby in the show. 

She is twisting the knife as much as she can so you can bet if she thought there was even an inkling there was more than friendly feelings between them she’d have had the clone say she loved her just to do that little bit more mental damage, but she didn’t. 

If there was ever a time to bring it up to put her off balance it was now. Neo is under no pressure and has no reason to not do so, so it basically sinks the ship. Well more than her being dead already does. 

I swear to god if they go to Vacuo and Pietro is in a coma or dead and there’s a new Penny I’m going to call Akira Toriyama and tell him RWBY is aping Dragon Ball because there’s no stakes in life or death anymore. 

Oh right, speaking of Neo she’s pretty ok until the end where she decides she’s cool with Ruby, gets to get the kill on the cat and then just bows out and leaves, and everyone is…strangely cool with that. 

Ascension or not I’m just struggling to think that any of them should just want her to essentially get away scot free. This woman tried to kill Ruby or get her to commit suicide and killed Little and we’re cool with letting her go because she killed the cat who was no longer a threat to them and did a hat doff? Um…yeah sure. I bet Yang is ok with people almost killing her sister, Weiss her best friend, etc. Then again maybe these versions of the characters are. 

I don’t care much about how ascension will change her; she's paid for nothing she’s done. “Get your revenge and you’ll get it and still get away scoTt free’. Ok last of us two. 

I can not overstate how pointless the suicide feels. 

It feels like they wanted her to do it, but have it not ‘take’ or have consequences because they’re in ever after and can say ‘hey the ascension thing fixes it’. 

Look, I'm glad the bees got together. Really I’m happy for you, but if you take out the Bee stuff, and the pining you’re left with a threadbare story that is only barely there since it’s all resolved in about five minutes. 

We all deserve better than that. The characters deserve better than that. 

I could keep going as this just scratches the surface level but it’s pissing me off to keep thinking about it. 

[galaxygurlll]

Star Wars - The Phantom Menace - Part 1

It’s forbidden to have relationships, but y/n was still born with the councils' approval but her mother died during the birth. Master Windu trains Y/n while her father trains a close friend and crush of hers, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Y/n is sent on a mission with the two to protect the queen of Naboo and they find Anakin.

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Prologue: https://www.tumblr.com/galaxygurlll

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-Y/n pov-

-The Consular-class Republic Cruiser Radiant VII-

-3rd person-

A ship containing two pilots and three Jedi, one a Master and the other two a male a female Padawan. But, the Jedi Master also happens to be the father to the female Padawan but is not her Master, he is the males Master yet, the girl was instructed by her Master to go with them.

The Master is Master Qui-Gon Jinn, his male Padawan is Obi-Wan Kenobi and his daughter, who is the Padawan to Master Windu, is Y/n Jinn, a fifteen-year-old girl but is significantly ahead of her class hence why she's here on this mission.

Connections are forbidden, the three know this, but they can't help that two of them are related and the other two are best friends and, they also have a force bond which they've been told on countless occasions to be very wary and careful of since they found this out a year prior. The force bond is very strong to the point where if one gets hurt, the other can feel some of the pain and with emotions, the same thing. Sadness, both feel, joyfully, both feel, anger... both feel.

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-Y/n pov-

Whilst the pilots are, well, piloting, Obi-Wan, my father and I stand behind with our robes on and hoods over our heads, mine is a pale seashell colour whilst the other two were matching brown robes with our hands hidden under them and we all have the normal Jedi attire on as well and in white. My father is on my right whilst Obi-Wan is on my left as well as we look out onto the trading federation ships.

"Captain?" My father speaks, "Yes sir?" The captain replies, "Tell them we've reached the board at once," the captain follows those orders and Viceroy Nute Gunray shows up on the screen above, "With all due respect, the ambassadors for the Supreme Chancellor wish to board immediately," the captain tells him, then he speaks "Yes of course. As you know, our blockade is effectively legal. And we'd be happy to receive the ambassadors."

Then, the pilots guide the ship down the main federation blockage ship and land in it.

We leave the ship and head down the ramp with our hoods still up and hands still covered and pass by many droids and other machines, causing slight worry to run through me, but I'm able to put up my force wall against Obi-Wan before he can realise. Because of that though, I hear him let out a quiet annoyed sigh that only I can hear as my father is too focused.

After getting through a door, we see a silver droid, "I am TC-14 at your service. This way, please," TC-14 tells us and motions us down the hallway to follow and we do. Soon enough, we reach another room that has a long dining table with multiple chairs around it, "We are greatly honoured by your visit ambassadors. Make yourselves comfortable, my master will be with you shortly." With that, TC-14 leaves the room and the doors close.

We three then take off our hoods as we turn around, with me still in the middle of them, and put our hands hidden again. My y/h/l y/h/c hair is in my signature rope-twisted braid and my Padawan braid rests along my right arm.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Obi-Wan states and I hum in agreement as I'm not one for talking, "I don't sense anything," My father tells us in a matter-of-a-fact tone, "It's not about the mission master, its something... elsewhere. Illusive." Obi-Wan adds on and we three start walking slowly, "Don't centre on your anxiety, you two, keep your concentration here and now, where it belongs," Father says to us.

"But Master Yoda said that we should be mindful of the future," Obi-Wan tells him with slight confusion, I just focus my attention on other things whilst making sure my walls are still up, "But not at the expense of the moment. Be mindful of the living Force, young Padawans." We continue to walk towards the widows, "Yes Master," Both Obi-Wan and I say in sync and then we reach the window and look out of it with them still talking.

"How do you think this trade viceroy will deal with the chancellor's demands?" Obi-Wan questions, "These Federation types are cowards. The negotiations will be short." Father confirms with us.

We soon sit down with my father sitting at the head, Obi-Wan to his left and me to his right. I don't focus much on the conversations at hand and I can feel Obi-Wan trying to find a crack in my mind to see how I am feeling at the current moment in time but I don't allow him. Looking up though, his face seems dejected and, feeling bad, I open my mind a little and feel him latch on.

Then, a wave of comfort seeps through me and, looking up, Obi-Wan sends me a warm smile before returning to the conversation with my father who was also looking at the interaction. Much to Obi-Wan's disappointment, as I can feel it, I go back to shutting him out and looking down at my lap whilst playing with my hands but knowing he can still feel some, if not any, of my sadness.

My thoughts are then rudely interrupted by the doors opening back up again and TC-14 steps through with some drinks on a tray. Obi-Wan takes one when offered, still focusing on my father then the droid offers my father one and he takes it and when the droid appears next to me, I look at the drink with suspicion before my father clears his through and I look at him and he signals for me to take one as not to be rude, so that's what I do also being the only one to thank the droid.

Suddenly, there's a massive explosion and the feeling like lives were lost hits my gut hard and my father, Obi-Wan and me stand up really quickly causing TC-14 to drop the try with the drink canaster still on it in surprise. We ignite our lightsabers, green on my father, blue on Obi-Wan and me, well, mine being the extraordinary bright pearl pink that look to almost be white, but you could easily tell it wasn't.

Then, I smell something... Dioxis.

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-Obi-Wan pov-

Dioxis.

A dangerously killing poison gas is let into the room. I hear my Master hold his breath and I copy then look to y/n, who's looking around frantically at the growing gas and then we make eye contact and watch her copy my actions of holding her breath after signalling to her. 'What do we do?' Her voice suddenly echo's through my mind, 'Just hold your breath y/n/n, that's the best we can do for now,' I reply to her and see her nod.

Looking around, Master Qui-Gon is in a calm state, don't know how, but he's good at keeping his composure. 'Obi? Should we turn off our lightsabers since they believe we are dead? Also, I sense B1-Battle Droids outside the door,' I hear her voice again, 'I agree,' and quickly turn off my lightsaber with her following the movement. She then looks to Master Qui-Gon and signals for him to turn off his since he wears a look of confusion, but does turn it off.

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-Qui-Gon Jinn pov-

This connection these two have can be very dangerous if not used wisely, but I know that they won't mess with it. Besides, I've learnt to know when those two are communicating telepathically by their eyes, my daughters going a lighter shade of y/e/c and my Padawans also going a lighter shade.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-3rd pov-

Viceroy Nute Gunray shows up on a hologram in front of the b1-Battle Droids, "They must be dead by now, destroy what's left of them" He tells them and then the commander B1-Battle Droid switches to open the door as the hologram turns off and walks over to a group of security B1-Battle Droids. Then, a figure emerges from the mist, but it's just TC-14, "Oh! Excuse me," The droid says and walks past them.

"Check it out corporal, we'll cover you," The commander droid tells a security droid that they are beside, "Roger, Roger," They reply and advance forward slightly before Chnnnnnn is heard and the three colours of green, bright pearl pink and blue can be seen through the mist in that order.

"Blast them."

The three Jedi then begin their attack on the B1-Battle Droids and end up slicing them all with y/n and Obi-Wan both using their force to push more onto the ground, leaving them vulnerable and easier to destroy.

The three make their way down the corridors before arriving at the main ship control door and Qui-Gon stabs his lightsaber into the closed door, attempting to get it open whilst Obi-Wan and y/n are working on destroying the remaining B1-Battle Droids that were still firing at them. Doors closing from the other side can then be heard and the father and daughter exchange a confused look before y/n deflects a blast and Qui-Gon sinks his lightsaber further in.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Y/n pov-

"Master, destroyers!" Obi-Wan calls out to my father as I stand beside Obi-Wan and hear my father quickly pull his lightsaber out and stand beside me again as the destroyers put up their shields and start to fire as we deflect with ease. "They have shield generators," I exclaim with worry laced in my voice, "Let's go," My father tells us and we quickly speed away from the destroyers and end up at the end of another hall but still fired at.

We soon make it out of the ventilation shaft and jump down from it one by one, my father, me, and then Obi-Wan last and land in a crouching position whilst hiding behind massive holding containers with Obi-Wan on one side and my father and me on the other, "Battle droids," My father makes out as we look past the containers at the said droids, "It's an invasion army," Obi-Wan and I exclaim at the same time, earning a small smile at each other before our attention focuses back.

"This is an odd play for the trade federation," My father goes on as he hastily looks away from us and I know he caught the interaction and I'll be getting another lecture from him later. "We've got to warn the Naboo and contact Chancellor Valorum. Let's split up. Stow aboard separate ships and meet down on the planet." We nod to him, "You were right about one thing Master, the negotiations were short," Obi-Wan tells my father humourlessly earning him and slight laugh from me but I go quickly silent from the look I receive from my father.

"Y/n," He gets a hum reply from me, "You go with Obi-Wan on a ship and I'll go by myself," before I can protest, Obi-Wan is grabbing my wrist gently and pulling me along with him as I look sadly back at my father but then quickly job beside Obi-Wan once I decide to turn around.

We luckily reach a vacant ship and I take control of flying since I am much better and much more qualified than the two of us. As we reach the air, we carefully leave and fly down to Naboo in comfortable silence but before we reach the ground, Obi-Wan breaks that silence. "Y/n, can I ask something?" He gets a hum reply from me as my focus is on flying, "Why is it that you rarely talk? Even to me, even to your own father?" This question stirs something inside me.

Obi-Wan can clearly sense my sudden change in demeanour and is quick to add, "I'm sorry! It's just that, I'm curious- worried! Uhhh..." My hand snaps up to silence him and he does just as I land the ship and quickly sand up and leave, knowing that he is right behind me.

I don't know why, but that question hit a soft spot.

No, sorry, scratch that, I know exactly why.

I'm just not ready to tell him.

[no6secretsanta]

For Without Victory

From: @glorifiedscapegoat

To: @Fairysdarkestnight

Hello, there! I am so, so sorry for the extremely long delay on this fic! I hope that you enjoy it! I’ve got a few more parts that come after this bit, but for the time being, I hope you enjoy the fluff that’s peppered throughout! I hope that 2023 has started off well for you! Enjoy!

- - -

“Goddammit,” Safu muttered under her breath as a large caravan swung into the lane, cutting her off.

Nezumi’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t laugh. Safu rarely swore, but traffic brought it out in droves. It was late afternoon, so No.6 was in gridlock. The large highway twisted through the heart of the city itself, and the GPS leading them to Kronos’s Beast Fighting arena had led them onto a beltway that threw them neck-deep into crawling traffic.

Biting back another curse, Safu expertly navigated the rig into the sea of cargo trucks, rapping her fingers over a series of buttons that darkened the windshield against the blinding glare of the late afternoon sunshine. Rigs were common in the Beast Fighting community—necessary, in fact, for lugging around the life-support pods that held said Beasts—but the rest of the world primarily used thirty-wheelers for shipping and consumer transport.

Nezumi disliked cities, mostly due to the constant noise. Horns blared in rage against the inevitable traffic of rush hour, and the massive trucks surrounding their rig vibrated into a low thrumming that echoed through each synapse in Nezumi’s body.

They’d tried to leave district No.4 in the early hours of the morning to avoid this very thing, but an unexpected accident—a massive rig carrying a shipment to a local grocery store had rolled onto its side, effectively blocking all six lanes of traffic and halting their progress for at least three hours. That, in turn, made them get into No.6 at the peak of rush hour traffic, and even Safu’s confident, aggressive driving hadn’t allowed them to gain any exceptional progress.

Nezumi reclined against the passenger seat window, boots propped on the dashboard. The rig’s massive cab gave them an expanded view of the road ahead of them. More than that, it allowed the three of them—Safu, Shion, and Nezumi—to fit comfortably inside for long durations of time. The thirty-wheeler rig Rikiga had purchased for them might have been aging and less impressive than some of the rigs they’d seen in the Beast Fighting community, but it sure beat the cramped confinements of the eighteen-wheeler they’d used at the start of it all.

In the large middle seat, nestled comfortably between Nezumi and Safu, Shion dozed. He’d nodded off before they’d entered the rush hour traffic, which Nezumi figured was for the best. Shion disliked the way Safu got when traffic was tight; it wasn’t road rage, per se, but her quiet rage left even the strongest of men terrified.

After another hour of riding through grueling traffic, Safu angled the wheel to the right and guided the rig out of the sea of metal caravans and onto an on-ramp that led to a large dome situated just off the highway. Nezumi withdrew his feet from the dashboard and stretched his spine. They’d arrived.

Tourists awaiting the start of the evening’s Beast Fights milled about in the parking lot, gawking at the painted trailers that pulled in. The other caravan assigned to their team led the rig off the road and on a dirt path toward the back of the massive arena. A large metal gate slammed shut behind them, cutting off the tourists and their prying eyes. There was no VIP behind-the-scenes bullshit when it came to Beast Fights.

Safu pulled into the large parking space intended for their rig and locked the wheels. The whole truck shut down with a large hiss as she killed the engine; Nezumi climbed out of the cab, Shion quickly waking at the shift in activity and scrambling to unbuckle and follow.

The side of the rig was nothing fancy—dark blue with silver accents, graffiti delicately and deliberately decorating the hub. The reflective metal lining the top and bottom of the double decker trailer displayed Nezumi’s reflection well enough. He’d dragged his long, dark hair into a high ponytail to combat the late summer heat; he’d let Shion pick out his outfit for the day, and Shion, knowing Nezumi’s style well enough after all their time together, had picked out a black long-sleeved tee shirt and khaki cargo pants, the hems fraying. He’d jammed his feet into a ragged pair of combat boots, and his silver eyes were still rimmed with dark circles leftover from the makeup he hadn’t quite managed to fully scrub off from their Beast Fight the night prior.

They’d finished their battle around eleven, and then Safu had permitted them an hour to celebrate their victory at the arena’s shoddy little pub. She’d spent only a hundred credits of their winnings on drinks—a strawberry and coconut Italian soda for Safu, since she was driving, and a 375 ml bottle of plum wine for Nezumi and Shion to split.

Nezumi had managed to swallow a glass and a half before Shion had crawled into his lap, face flushed and grinning from ear to ear. Shion didn’t drink often; as a result, when he did, it hit him hard. It’d been a hassle to drag him to their loft, and even more of a struggle to convince him to go to sleep, but Nezumi would be lying if he said he didn’t find Shion’s drunken happiness a little bit endearing.

Shion came over to stand beside Nezumi, raising a hand to block out the setting sun. His fluff-cloud of silver hair stood up at the ends due to the lingering humidity of summer’s end. Despite the heat, he insisted on wearing a button-down and slacks, though he rolled the hems up into a mock pair of capris.

“How are you feeling?” Shion asked.

His voice was casual and light, but Safu stopped talking to the parking attendant and eavesdropped on the conversation. They’d traveled a long way to reach No.6, but if Nezumi felt off about the area, they would pack up and abandon ship. That was one thing Shion and Safu never questioned. No matter what consequences came of it, no matter how much Rikiga bitched and scolded them, if Nezumi told them he didn’t feel right about a location or an upcoming fight, they’d pack up the truck and continue on their way.

“Good,” Nezumi replied, and he could see Safu’s shoulders drop with relief. Though he knew she’d support his decision if he’d chosen to leave, he also knew that finances would become a concern.

Nezumi only had one area he refused to fight in again. A venue in No.1, where Beasts were hobbies to spoiled rich kids with way too much time on their hands and access to top-notch resources. Elyurias had been shredded in the duel, almost destroyed, but in the end, they’d been victorious. Despite their victory, Nezumi avoided venues in No.1. It’d taken a decent amount of money to patch up Elyurias, and Shion had clung to Nezumi and whimpered the whole night afterward. Nezumi had held him back, pressing kisses to his hairline and promising him that they’d leave No.1 first in the morning and never return. In eight long months of Beast Fights, he’d made good on that promise.

“If you’re sure,” Shion replied, dipping his head forward and nuzzling Nezumi’s shoulder.

Nezumi bumped his nose against the crown of Shion’s head and hid a smile; Shion was always affectionate before the start of a Beast Fight.

Safu bid the parking attendant farewell and wandered over to Nezumi and Shion. She’d dressed in a comfortable purple sweater and a plain black skirt, flaunting a pair of leggings despite the heat. She’d recently cut her hair; it fell in choppy spikes around her chin, framing her delicate features.

“The odds are six to one, currently in our favor,” she announced. “Rikiga’s loaned us five-thousand credits to put down.” She gave Nezumi a mischievous glance. “Think you can handle that?”

“Only five-thousand this time?” Nezumi scoffed. “Old man’s losing faith in me, or what?”

“Playing it safe,” Shion translated, patting Nezumi’s shoulder. Though Shion didn’t handle the financial aspect of Beast Fighting, he understood the risks of tossing around too much money.

It wasn’t Nezumi Rikiga had no faith in; it was his opponents and their insatiable greed that concerned him. After all, they’d learned first-hand how far some folks would go just to be the best.

Nezumi rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’ll have it finished in five minutes.”

Safu clapped her hands together. “Excellent!” She buzzed with energy, a live-wire so powerful that some outsiders sometimes thought she was the one controlling Elyurias. She certainly had the right attitude for it; Safu could be demure and professional one moment, then fiery and vicious the next. She’d make a fabulous Beast if she ever had the drive. But Nezumi had known her long enough to know that getting in the pits wasn’t high on Safu’s list of desired experiences.

In the background, three of the roadies unloaded Elyurias’s life-support pod out of its containment and nestled it into its far corner at the back of the trailer. Shion didn’t move, but he watched with clenched hands as the opaque cylinder was steadily lowered onto the ground and shoved backward.

Nezumi couldn’t help it; he stifled a laugh. Shion always worried about Elyurias. He’d done nearly all the work on the Beast’s body—Safu had assisted with the circulatory system, but the nervous system, bone structure, muscles, and everything in between was all Shion’s craftsmanship—so he knew how tough Elyurias was. Nezumi bumped his head against Shion to let him know everything was fine.

Despite everything, Nezumi had to admit he was curious about Kronos. Rashi, the proprietor of the Kronos arena, had a reputation for theatrics when it came to Beast Fights. Allegedly, the Kronos arena had once been an abandoned warehouse belonging to a company that specialized in computers. Rashi had purchased the building, seeing the rising money in Beast Fights. Inside the building, the Beast pit sat right in the center, eighty feet wide and fifteen feet deep. It was surrounded on all sides by plastic bleachers, cheap and mismatched in color, clearly purchased in a hurry from different bankrupt schoolhouses and sports arenas.

Outside the rig’s muffling insulation, the city sounds of Kronos hummed around Nezumi and sunk deep into his bones. Cities were part of Beast Fights, unfortunately, since many of the arenas large enough to host the booming crowds were only located in cities. Gone were the days of hand-dug pits and miniature Beasts that could be Piloted like remote-controlled cars.

Nezumi had been in it since the beginning, back when building Beasts was strictly hobby and not blood-sport. He didn’t remember how or when it had changed. One day, the little Beast their close-knit trio had patched together—still called Elyurias, just much tinier and much less lethal—had metamorphosed into the war machine they’d become infamous for Piloting.

Shion’s hand covered Nezumi’s, slotting their fingers together. He gave Nezumi’s hand a reassuring squeeze, and Nezumi’s lips twitched into a soft smile. After this fight, they’d planned a short vacation, of sorts. Just the two of them—Shion and Nezumi—spending a few days together in Lost Town, where Shion and Safu had grown up. Safu had agreed to drop them off at Karan’s bakery before lugging the rig three towns over to West Block, where Rikiga and Inukashi would assist in the alterations to Elyurias’s body before their next round of Beast Fights.

Traveling on the road with their crew and Safu, Nezumi had learned all too quickly, made it difficult to have any real alone time with Shion. Sometimes they got lucky and Safu would park the rig overnight after a particularly successful Fight, taking advantage of a rare bar. She didn’t drink often, either, but when she did, Nezumi knew she’d place bets with the rest of the crew. Despite her small stature, Safu could hold her liquor with the best of them, and she’d been roped into more than a few drinking contests with over-zealous fans who assumed they could out-drink her.

When those rare moments presented themselves, Nezumi would bring Shion back to their loft in the rig and tuck into the shadows, smothering Shion’s delighted laughter with deep kisses. Nezumi wasn’t one to wear his emotions of his sleeve, but he couldn’t deny that he was eager for tonight’s fight to end. Nezumi pressed a quick kiss to Shion’s temple. The sooner Nezumi got a moment alone with him, the better.

Two hours before the fight, Rashi stepped into the storage room. Nezumi’s hackles immediately went up; something about him, a spoiled rich boy flaunting his father’s wealth, set his nerves on edge. Rashi didn’t look like he belonged in the world of Beast Fights. He was tall and thin, with cut-close blond hair and a pair of crisp spectacles over a pair of steely green eyes. He wore a pressed black suit with white pinstripes and expensive black wingtips; Nezumi was tempted to spit on them just to see what Rashi would do.

Safu closed the door behind him, cutting off the distant shouting and excitement from the parking lot of the arena. Rashi’s eyes clicked across their faces—Safu’s, Shion’s, then to Nezumi. Cool bemusement danced across his sharp features, and an envelope appeared from one of his sleeves.

“Your appearance fee,” Rashi said. His voice had a strange lilt to it, like he thought it made him sound smarter than he probably was.

He went to hand it to Nezumi, but Safu swooped in and plucked it from him. It disappeared into the pocket of her bright purple sweater. Safu handled the team’s money and expense reports.

Rashi’s delicate blond eyebrow twitched. “You’re not going to count it?”

“Your reputation’s suitable enough,” Safu replied. “I have no reason to assume you’d short us.” She lifted an eyebrow, too. “Unless you’re implying we should have a reason to assume that.”

“No, of course not. And your reputation is certainly suitable enough, as well.”

Nezumi listened to him talk and narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like Rashi being here—it put a ripple in their pregame routine. Some teams enjoyed partying with groupies before the Fights. Others dipped into the bars and spent their appearance fees, certain that they’d win it back by Fight’s end. Nezumi, however—Nezumi enjoyed the peace and quiet his team generated. Sometimes he’d unwind by flipping through a book, or he’d listen to Shion and Safu fuss over Elyurias.

“I wondered if I could take a look at Elyurias,” Rashi said, and the name of his Beast on the man’s tongue made Nezumi’s skin crawl. “I’ve heard so many rumors, after all.”

Safu and Shion’s eyes flashed over to Nezumi. Nezumi straightened his spine and gave an indifferent shrug—the sooner he showed Rashi what he wanted, the sooner he’d leave.

“Sure,” he muttered.

He gestured to Shion, a silent reassurance. Shion bustled them over to the gigantic life-support pod that held Elyurias inside. Shion traced his fingers lovingly over the glass, entering the code that shifted the opacity and gave a vivid glimpse into the tank’s contents. Nezumi’s heart skipped, just a little, at the look of endearment that Shion gave the Beast within. He tried not to smile; they were in mixed company, after all.

Nezumi didn’t need to look at Elyurias; he was well acquainted with the Beast’s physical attributes. Elyurias stood at a monstrous three meters tall, primarily bipedal and capable of shifting to four powerful legs. The front legs possessed a set of long claws, each about the length of Nezumi’s index finger. The Beast’s body was covered in black fur, sleek and lupine, and as Rashi continued to look up, Nezumi knew he was eyeing the bony, armored tentacles with sharp blades stretching from the base of Elyurias’s skeletal cranium. There were three of them, segmented like flexible spines and curling in the life-support pod.

The Beast’s head, however, was a thing of art. Shion had spent weeks gathering the pieces, sculpting and shaving down the bones he’d purchased into the perfect shape. The whole body appeared lupine and powerful, but the head possessed a cervidean shape, two large antlers protruding from the top of the skull, bones exposed and horrifying. The eyes were two empty sockets, but Nezumi knew that, when he stepped into the ring, two silver lights would reflect inside them.

Rashi reached out and brushed his fingers against the life-support pod. “Beautiful,” he commented, almost enraptured by the Beast’s appearance.

Shion bristled as Rashi touched the pod, but whatever he wanted to say disappeared when Nezumi gave him a quick glance. He understood Shion’s protective nature when it came to Elyurias—appreciated it, adored it, even—but he also understood that Shion had a hair trigger when it came to anger. He didn’t feel like prying Shion off another person, especially not the proprietor of the arena they’d be dueling in.

And then Rashi looked at Nezumi and said, “You’re going to take a dive tonight.”

A long silence fell around the room.

“What?” Safu asked, her voice icy and sinister. Her build to anger was slower than Shion’s, but no less horrifying. Nezumi could see the shiver that trickled up Rashi’s voice at her tone, but he quickly quelled it. He had an appearance to keep, after all, and bowing to rabble like Beast Fighters was clearly beneath him.

“A dive,” Rashi repeated, shrugging a shoulder. The action looked strange on him. “You’ll be compensated, of course. Three times the winning purse. Thirty-thousand credits.”

Nezumi clicked his tongue. Rashi wasn’t the first person to ask them to throw a fight, but usually there was some form of pomp with it. Typically, fight coordinators piled on the praise, fawning over Nezumi’s victories and regaling him with stories of how his fame had supposedly inspired new Beast fighters to join in the ring, and then they dove into trying to convince him to throw a fight. For Rashi to simply dive right into it—it was refreshing, in a way, if not slightly amusing.

“I think you might be a bit confused, sir,” Safu said, venom dripping off each word. “We’re not a bunch of children you can lead astray with the promise of a big break. We’re professionals. We take what we do seriously.”

“And so do I,” Rashi replied, and Nezumi had to give him at least a bit of credit; he didn’t recoil immediately at the rage dancing across Safu’s face. “You’re not seeing the bigger picture. To keep participating in Beast Fights, you need funds. These sideshow battles have grown exponentially; I wouldn’t be surprised if, in a few years, the whole thing became just another sports program. Official leagues and committees and such. That Beast of yours is certainly admirable”—he gestured to Elyurias, who Shion had stepped protectively in front of, eyes narrowed and flashing scarlet—“but every Beast requires maintenance. How much has your Beast cost you these past few months?”

Nezumi’s jaw tightened.

“With the right level of support,” Rashi continued, “your team could thrive until you’re ready to retire. Even a Beast of Elyurias’s caliber requires a complete system overhaul every few months. This is an expensive business, after all—a successful business, sure, but not if you don’t have the funds.”

“Forgive me, sir, but we’re not that naive.” Safu crossed her arms over her chest, staring up at Rashi without an ounce of fear. “We do research the locations we’re inviting to Fight in. And we’re very thorough. If you know where to look, it’s not difficult to find out that you run the books in Kronos, especially around your arena. Every spectator out there that’s not a die-hard fan of our opponents’ team has laid down an ungodly amount of credits on Elyurias. You, more than likely, ran a few numbers of your own and figured we’d take your offer and purposely lose tonight’s fight. We’d accept your thirty-thousand credits, and you’d get to walk away the true victor.”

“Fifty-thousand credits, then,” Rashi said, narrowing his eyes. “I’d accept the offer, if I were you. You’ve been on quite the impressive winning streak, it’s true. But how much longer can you keep it up?” He turned away from Safu and stared at Nezumi. “You’re the team’s primary Beast—the only Beast, so I’ve been told. Your skill with your creature is quite renowned, but how much confidence do you have in your own abilities? You’re tough, kid—but you’re not invincible.”

“No, I’m not invincible,” Nezumi replied. “But what I do have is an edge the other Beasts lack.”

His gaze flickered to Shion for only a brief moment; it wasn’t brief enough, however, to escape Rashi’s notice. His lips quirked downward in disgust, and whatever minor respect Nezumi might have been able to salvage for the man fluttered out the window. He clenched his jaw, a lump of irritation forming in his throat.

Inside the life-support tank, Elyurias’s claws twitched. The movement was subtle, faint enough that it escaped Rashi’s notice, but Shion’s scarlet eyes flashed.

“Yes, I’ve heard rumors of your… talents.”

Not surprising. Nezumi’s talents with Elyurias had been the topic of great speculation.

It wasn’t impossible that a single Beast had won every fight it’d ever been in, but it was highly unlikely, and the fact that Nezumi’s Beast had gone up against thirty different Beasts and walked away victorious each time was nothing short of miraculous.

“I don’t understand it, though,” Rashi said. “Beast Fights are a bloody affair, but to command such a monster and come out victorious each time…” He cocked his head to the side, sizing Nezumi up. “Are you certain you’re entirely human?”

Shion’s hands tightened into fists; Nezumi caught the movement in his periphery.

He gave Shion a quick, reassuring glance. The tension remained in Shion’s expression, but his shoulders loosened, just a bit. His lips were tight and pain, and Nezumi could see the edge of his teeth as his bit them to keep whatever insults he wanted to hurl at Rashi caged inside.

“Have you ever piloted a Beast, sir?” Safu asked.

Rashi’s sharp green eyes glinted in the dingy trailer light. “I haven’t had the, ah… pleasure, no.”

That didn’t surprise Nezumi in the slightest. Even from first glance, Rashi didn’t strike him as the type to link his mind to a bioware processor and get down and dirty with other Beasts in the ring. He seemed more the type to pay others to do it for him, hedging bets and fixing fights to ensure he walked away with a tasty profit. The thought of it turned Nezumi’s stomach. Wealthy scum like Rashi tainted the sport.

“Then I wouldn’t expect you to understand it,” Safu said, and then, as an after-thought, added, “No offense.”

“No offense taken,” Rashi replied coolly, though his eyes flashed in a way that let Nezumi know it had certainly been taken.

“There’s some level of blood lust to it,” Nezumi said, and Safu cast him a surprised look. “You can’t control a Beast without wanting to create a little carnage. But more than that, it’s that desire to destroy your opponent. Every Beast Fighter out there—everyone who joins a team, bets their credits, connects themselves to a bioware processor and climbs into the pit—understands that voracity.”

“And I suppose that you’re the most vicious of them all, then?” Rashi leveled Nezumi with a cold look. “Your desire to win is greater than every other Beast out there?”

“Yes,” Nezumi replied, and for the first time since Rashi showed his ugly face, he let the irritation swelling inside him poison his words.

Shion’s shoulders tightened, and Nezumi knew his mind had also wandered back to that night almost a year ago.

Nezumi’s body still ached with it, his mind dredging up flashes of the icy rain pelting against his skin, the sluggish feeling of his blood oozing out onto the pavement. His lungs boiled with each ragged breath, and the echo of Shion’s horrified voice slicing through the storm still haunted his nightmares.

But that night had left Nezumi with something irreplaceable—an edge that allowed him to strike down even the strongest of Beasts. No matter how many Beasts he squared off against, no matter how many wounds Elyurias sustained or how close a fight got, Nezumi would always win.

Rashi looked around the group—surveyed the cold expressions on Shion and Safu’s faces, the silent rage on Nezumi’s—and gave a theatrical sigh. “Very well. Have it your way.” He turned on his heel, marching through the door with the practiced ease of someone who was well-accustomed to storming out of rooms in a huff.

“Fucking prick,” Safu spat, once Rashi was out of earshot.

Shion’s arms wrapped around Nezumi and pulled him close. Nezumi folded Shion against him and rubbed a hand down his back. Shion’s body vibrated with anger, and Nezumi knew if he let Shion go, he’d sprint out of the rig and tackle Rashi to the ground. Not a good look for their crew, though Nezumi couldn’t deny he found it amusing how keyed up and protective Shion could get about him.

“Ignore him,” Nezumi murmured against Shion’s hairline. Rashi didn’t matter. He was just another fight coordinator who’d underestimated them. Nothing they hadn’t dealt with before.

Safu gave Nezumi a brief look; Nezumi nodded to her, and with a slight nod in return, Safu marched over to the few members of their crew to begin preparations for the fight.

“I don’t like how he looked at you,” Shion ground out, curling his fingers in Nezumi’s shirt.

Nezumi tightened his grip on Shion. “Whatever. He doesn’t know a damn thing.”

Shion nodded; he pressed a soft kiss to Nezumi’s collar bone, peeking out from the neckline of his shirt. Even that faint touch had Nezumi’s blood singing.

One fight. All he had to do was win this one fight, and then he and Shion would get some much-needed alone time. That in itself was more than enough to motivate Nezumi, even without the rest.

Nezumi drew back, peering down into Shion’s face. His scarlet eyes, glowing in the dim light of the storage room in their rig, reached into the deepest parts of his soul. It’d been hard to let his walls down around anyone, and Shion was no exception—not at first. But once Nezumi had allowed even the slightest crack in his defenses when it came to Shion, it was almost horrifying how easy it’d been to let Shion in.

“Come on,” Nezumi said. “We’ve got a fight to win.”

The aggravation in Shion’s face gave way to admiration and love; Shion’s lips curled into a grin, and Nezumi knew, more instinct than speculation, that there was no way he’d lose the fight tonight. As long as Shion was right here, there wasn’t anything in the world Nezumi couldn’t conquer.

The End

[burnwater13]

The Mandalorian had been wrong. People had found them. Even on a skug hole, whatever that was, like Sorgan. Grogu didn’t understand how that had happened. Sorgan was in the middle of the middle of no where. It wasn’t along the edge or the fringe or a close neighbor to anything in the Outer Rim. Nope. So how did anyone find them?

Grogu put his credits on Greef Karga. He figured that at some time in the past he’d had a tracker put on the Razor Crest. Karga either didn’t trust the Mandalorian before the bounty  hunter set off to find Grogu or he just didn’t trust other bounty hunters on principle. It actually didn’t matter which one it was. What mattered is that people who shouldn’t have been able to find them, found them.

The other thing the Mandalorian had been wrong about was Grogu ‘stretching his legs’. The Razor Crest already offered a broad range of opportunities for him to get a work out. He suspected that the bounty hunter didn’t experience the ship in quite the same way as he did. 

For example, the ladder to the bridge wasn’t some sort of easy thing for him to traverse, unless he used the Force to help him out. The distance from rung to rung was longer than he was tall. He’d seen the Mandalorian do pull ups. Apparently Mandalorian bounty hunters are obsessive about staying in good physical condition. 

But you try it. Pull your own body up your full height and do it six or seven more times in a row. Talk about stretching. Okay, it was stretching his arm and shoulder muscles, but the point remained. The Razor Crest was either an obstacle course or a gymnasium depending on your size. 

Then there was the hopping off the seat and climbing back up onto it. Or hopping onto the control console and then running across it to get away from the bounty hunter’s quick hands. That did actually stretch his legs and his back muscles and his imagination because the Mandalorian seemed pretty quick for a human. And fussy about how Grogu performed his various exercises. 

For example, Grogu turned switches off and on to work on fine motor control. He also did it because depending on the switch different things happened to the ship which meant that the Mandalorian’s response varied as well. He had to exercise his mind as well as his body and testing the bounty hunter had become a favorite activity. 

For example on that trip to Sorgan, Grogu had turned whole ship’s systems off and on willy nilly. Instead of the Mandalorian putting him in the cabin and locking the door, or just putting him in a seat and activating a seat belt, he just picked Grogu up and settled him on his lap. That was a new behavior. Grogu wondered what had changed. 

Then when they landed, the bounty hunter had given him a long winded set of commands which Grogu understood to mean, ‘do as you see fit’. So when the Mandalorian dropped the cargo ramp on the port side of the ship, Grogu was right there with him. Sure he could have stayed on the bridge, but do that and not touch anything? That was absurd. He’d be touching the decking or his seat or the controls for the heavy laser cannons. Better that he touch the ground and keep a good eye on the bounty hunter. 

That walk had certainly stretched his legs. Grogu was just glad that it hadn’t taken months. It had probably felt like months to an impatient guy like the Mandalorian, but for Grogu it was a really good walk. There were a lot of things to look at. Nothing threatened him, although nothing particularly tasty was present either. He was grateful that at the end of the walk it turned out that they had reached a tavern or cantina or bar or whatever you call a place that serves food and drink. He was grateful to be there.

And, he had worked up an appetite. Bone broth had been a good starter, but he was hoping for something a little more satisfying. Like a plate of gorgs or some chicken or even a steaming bowl of dung worms. They were all tasty and he hadn’t had any of them in a long time. When you’re hiding from the Imps you don’t really get picky about what you eat. You eat whatever you find that doesn’t give your position away and you’re grateful for it, even if its something you don’t like… excepting veggies. He was never grateful for them. 

Then he’d gotten even more of a work out when they went to the krill farming collective. The kids there liked to play and he liked to work out and that seemed to blend pretty well. They thought he was playing when he was chasing a frog or a butterfly or whatever, but he was practicing all of his hunting skills, as well as his gathering skills. He knew they weren’t prepared for the reality of his life when they started screaming about him eating a frog. 

At first he thought they were mad because he hadn’t shared the frog, or at least hadn’t intended to share it. But as it turned out they were screaming at the notion of anyone eating a live frog whole. To each their own, but if they could have understood his language, he would have told them that whole frogs taste substantially better than portions of frog and that fresh is best was just how he liked to enjoy food. 

You never knew how old a ration pack was. They didn’t get a date stamp on purpose according to his friend Ian. If you knew the date they were made you might not want to eat them because they could be two or three times your age. Two or three times Grogu’s age put things back pretty far in time. All the Jedi were alive. There was no Emperor. There was no Death Star. There was no Darth Vader. No Razor Crest and no Mandalorian bounty hunter. 

Grogu was glad that there was a Mandalorian bounty hunter. At least, he was glad about this one. The one that thought they could live a quiet life someplace nice, out in the middle of no where and just focus on physical fitness and relaxation, despite the tall human calling him a womp rat. Sure, it sounded nice, but have you ever seen a womp rat? Nope? Well, if you saw one you’d know it was a lot less nice than it seemed. Those critters were almost as big as the Mandalorian! But perhaps the Mandalorian meant to say “little womp rat rider”… now that would be a way to stretch your legs.  

[draconic-artisan]

✖ - a repressed memory

"Whatever else I am, I am your son--your most wretched son."

-Sword at Sunset

The napkin is creased and crumpled, sitting in his pocket as he flies through the night on Lancelot's back. He's running a little late, but through the clouds he can see the name from the napkin on the side of a ship.

"Faster now Lancelot," he urges, " before he catches up!"

They're close enough now to where he can vaguely recognize that sailor's cap among all the other people on board, bringing his fingers to his lips and whistling three quick bursts. Immediately the others spring into action, the ship's captain running towards the ramp leading off the ship.

"So. Sneaking away in the middle of the night."

Of course he snuck up on him... Lancelot is able to stay in the air as Hassel looks over his shoulder: his father's Noivern, old and weathered as it is, is able to hover above them so easily.

"This is what you want? After everything we have done for you--"

"I want to decide things for myself, is that truly so terrible?" Gold eyes lock with silver as Hassel looks over his shoulder to his father, the older man's wrinkled face twisting with anger.

"You dare throw away all we have prepared for you?!" The shout makes him flinch and curl into Lancelot, but he doesn't waver. One quick tap to the Dragonite's neck and the two speed away towards the ship.

They're several feet above it now, enough that Hassel can make out the cargo on the deck of the ship, trying to determine where to land--

"HASSEL!!!"

-Only for the captain's shout to pull his attention over. He's also sending out his Salamence for some reason, why is he pointing behind-?

And then Hassel slips. He slips and falls.

Lancelot does not spin around hard enough to toss him onto the deck of the ship.

He lands head first, arms flying out to shield his face from hitting the floor-

He doesn't land on his back, air knocked out of him, and get the full silhouetted view of his father's Haxorus slashing into Lancelot's chest.

He can hear people running up onto the deck, other Pokémon let out as the sounds of battle between a Salamence and Haxorus ring out-

Lancelot hits the deck bodily, he needs to go over there, needs to help him but cannot move-

He's struggling to move, but then something lands next to him. Large, yet soft, fluffy white body lowering a long blue neck as a small beak nuzzles at the side of his face.

He tries, tries to get up, but his back screams in protest, and so does he-

And then there's a song. It slows his movements, his thoughts, and the moon above him blurs as he goes to sleep.

[apricusnights]

Stories from the past #1.

Time: Several years after the end of the great war.

Location: Approaching an uninhabited island comprised of a dense jungle.

Cue the music.

"Seems like we always get the short end of the stick. All this shit seems way too familiar to a few of us. Not that long ago we were sent to another one of these islands and had a throwdown with somethin we ain't ever seen before."

"We got some newbies this time, in fact most of em are save for Captain Narvox, Octavius, Foxx, and myself. Gotta admit it's a little odd bein around some of the new gens as they call em. Some of em still wear the heavy armor but that's bein phased out."

"We're back out in the Faititili Sea somewhere. Easy to tell by the thunderstorms and how damn muggy it is. Least our ship is better quality these days. We're about to hit the beach and drop the ramp."

"Captain Narvox told us that we're here looking for any members of what he only referred to as a "splinter group". Sometimes I wonder just how old Captain Narvox really is, might be Gen one. He's seen his fair share of shit."

"We located what looks like a temporary settlement of some sort, there's a wrecked ship that Foxx and a few of the newbies went to check out."

"Foxx came back with a weird lookin crate, looked like it's been in the ocean for a while. Seems like the wrecked ship is just a salvage vessel that had some bad luck. No trace of the crew though. We're loaded the crate into out ship to take back to HQ. Doesn't seem related to the mission but the Bureau brainiacs are always lookin for weird bullshit to study."

"We're followin some trails into the jungle that lead out of the settlement. Captain said it's our best bet. It's either that or try to carve our own path through and that's a shitty plan."

"Fuckin hot as hell and bugs the size of your head out here. Not too mention the thunderstorms that just do not ever stop. This island chain is a sin against creation and we're right in the middle of one."

"Lettin the big boys clear the way a bit, we're still on a trail but it's gettin overgrown. Doesn't look like anyone has been down here in quite some time."

"I can't even fuckin describe what we just stepped into. There's discarded armor everywhere, looks like two different groups had themselves a hell of a party. Some of this shit if old school, we're talkin Gen one stuff just repainted. Weird thing is, only a few pieces have marks that would have come from a firefight."

"Stumbled across another settlement. Nobody around but there's plenty of banners. Captain seems to know what some of them mean. He mentioned "the sisters" as one of them but didn't elaborate further. Still no signs of anyone."

"Think we figured out why there's nobody here. We followed the trail to a small beach that looks like it was used as an evac point. Whatever the fuck happened cause everyone to drop their arguments and get the fuck out of here in a hurry."

"We made camp, was gettin late and there's no point trying to make it back to our ship in this piece of shit jungle, in the dark, AND the fuckin storm."

"Some of the newbies keep sayin they see some shit movin around in the jungle. no fuckin shit, it's a jungle. There's animals. I swear they are being paranoid, we got patrols goin. I'm goin to sleep."

"Captain woke us up..patrol never checked back. Foxx wants to go lookin for em, says she's got a bad feeling. Usually when she's got a bad feeling she's right. Every so often when the lightning flashes I swear I see something lookin at us from the jungle. Startin to wonder just what kind of animals are out here."

"Well that went to hell in a handbasket. We got swarmed by fuckin..I don't know. A few of the newbies got picked off. Foxx lost an arm. We're firing every which way but these things are fast and have about a thousand advantages over us. Felt like a goddamn horror movie."

"We're rushin through the jungle, saw someone get pulled off the trail right in front of me. Went to grab him but whatever got him was way too strong."

"Captain Narvox managed to take down a few of em, closest look I got at one made me think it was some kind of bug. Oct, and Foxx have taken some damage, thought I was a goner but the Captain saved me and bashed one of those fuckers into a tree with his bare hands."

"Foxx had radioed the ship and told em to get ready to go. Imagine the look on their faces as Oct comes out of the jungle carrying Foxx, I'm right behind em, the three newbies left are being guarded by Captain Narvox and there's a bunch of shit gettin ready to run out of the jungle after us."

"Made it on board..whatever those things were wouldn't leave the jungle. Seemed almost like somethin called em back. We're gettin patched up. Foxx will be fine but she's pissed about losing her good arm. I'm sure the boys in the lab can give her some fancy mechanical replacement."

"Corporal Orion, signing off."

[nicad13]

Crossroads: Chapter 4

The Escape

Summary: Din recruits Rayne to join them, then lies about that lingering head injury. Rayne pulls some Enemy Sorcery on a bunch of Stormtroopers. Things go horribly wrong.

The Child earns his keep.

Notes: Another lovely illustration by @catstanbulite. Canon compliant through Season 1. Posting an old fic in advance of the sequel, hopefully coming not too long after Season 3! Get started now! AO3 link in the Source at the bottom.

Tags/Warnings: PTSD, blood/injury, whump

---

Going to find me someone to share

A common disaster

Run away with me from a life so cramped and dull

Not worry too much about the happily-ever-after

Just keep the Caddy moving

‘Til we’re well beyond that hill

Cowboy Junkies, Common Disaster

---

Running.

Rayne was running.

Din’s kid was strapped to her chest, facing her, huge dark eyes wide open and round, streaked with the reflection of the blaster bolts searing over her shoulders.

She heard the clang of a bolt deflecting off beskar behind her, heard Din grunt under the impact, felt the sting of it near the middle of her back as he unwittingly projected, heard the kid cry out as he felt it, too. She kept going, not turning back, knowing Din was ok, knowing he was covering their escape.

Another bolt hit him in the back of the head –

Her eyes flew open.

The t-shaped visor of Din’s helmet was inches from her face, dim reflected light curving over the surface of the beskar.

She resisted the reflex to push away from it, the realization of where she was finally surfacing in her mind. The Razor Crest. They were on the Razor Crest. The cramped bunk sandwiched between the bulkheads.

The sound of heavy breaths from tiny lungs drew her eyes down to the baby, eyes wide open and staring right at her, mouth open as he drew as much air as he could manage. She settled her hand on his back, spreading her fingers against the trembling she felt there. It’s ok. She pushed the thoughts to him, not wishing to wake Din. It was just a dream.

The baby closed his mouth and frowned, almost as if to say, That’s bullshit and you know it. He calmed down anyway, seeming to sense her desire to let Din continue sleeping.

The bucket seemed to have insulated Din from the commotion. He remained mostly still, but as Rayne watched, he looked to be caught in the grip of a dream of his own. The muscles in his arms twitched and his hands closed around the blanket he had pulled up to his chin. A low moan escaped him, a long, sad sound. Grief and confusion rolled off of him as the wave crested, then receded. After that, he took a few sharp breaths and stilled. His shoulders slumped as his body relaxed and his breathing fell back into a normal, slow rhythm, too quiet to activate the modulator.

She checked the time on her wristband. Finding that early morning had arrived, knowing she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep, with an idea itching at the back of her head, she decided to get up.

---

Din woke alone in his bunk.

Snapping up, he pulled himself out to look around the cargo bay. All of the ramps were up and the ship appeared to still be sealed, so that was good. He sat still for a moment, listening. Shortly, he heard the sound of clicking coming from the flight deck.

When he reached it, he found Rayne in the pilot’s chair, swiveled around with her feet propped on the starboard jump-seat, datapad in hand, the kid asleep in her lap. Rayne looked up at his arrival and smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey. Everything ok?”

“Yeah. I had some inspiration on the personal fob scramblers and I wanted to write it down before I forgot. He was already awake so I just brought him with me so you could sleep in a little.”

“Thank you.”

“The bots should have some breakfast stuff ready out at the shop. Since your sleeping baby is pinning me to the chair, you can send one of them back here with our stuff and you can have the kitchen to yourself.”

He nodded in response, donned the armor, and headed out. Her tone had been amicable but clear: she was on the clock now, and her time was his money.

He could appreciate a woman who recognized boundaries.

Sure enough, three bots had breakfast ready. They chirped a happy greeting to him and stood at attention, seeming to wait for his order. “Um… Rayne and the kid will eat on the ship.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll eat here.” They chirped again and whirred into motion, two of them carrying their delivery to the ship while the third led him to the kitchen and, thankfully, left him alone.

He stood at the peninsula that divided the kitchen from the living/sleeping area, where a plate of eggs, bacon, toast, and fruit waited for him. He did a quick scan for security cameras, not expecting to find any since there weren’t any outside, but just to be sure. Finding none, he turned back to the plate, had a seat, and lifted the helmet from his head.

Not for the first time, the realization that he had slept with an enemy sorcerer dawned in his mind.

And now he was alone in her home. With his helmet off.

What the hell was he doing?

Getting help, you dumb shit.

Help. Right. He took his gloves off and ran his hands through his hair, pressing his palms against his forehead at the headache once again forming behind it. He just could not shake this concussion, and he had to admit that it was starting to worry him.

He picked at his food, appetite taking a sudden nosedive from the hammer in his skull. Fork in one hand, head propped in the other, he forced his breakfast down, barely tasting it, knowing it would help him feel better, even if it took longer than he liked. He washed it down with water. The coffee helped to take the edge off in the short-term.

Finished, he closed his eyes, running over it again in his head.

Rayne’s qualifications as a crewmember.

Good with the kid. Check. More than that, she was excellent with the kid. She’d taught him more in three days than Din had in almost a year. She wasn’t particularly maternal, but she was warm to him, and he seemed to thrive under her watch. Good in a fight. Check. Probably. She still handled a saber like a giant ten-year-old, albeit an incredibly strong ten-year-old, but she could hold her own against him, and he knew she’d been pulling her shots in terms of using the Force. Good with the ship. God, yes, check. He had to admit he was a little jealous about it. Beyond her piloting and mechanical skills, she was clearly a starship person. She understood piloting preferences, returning the dashboard light settings to his pre-sets when she was done with it. She understood fire control, re-charging the extinguishers even though he’d forgotten to put it on the list. She understood keeping a tight ship, going as far as to follow his lead in sliding her clothes under the bunk with her foot before…

Good in bed. Check.

That had certainly not been on his list of prerequisites.

No attachments, he’d told her. When I leave, you won’t ever hear from me again, he’d told her.

Was it really only last night he’d said that? In the room directly behind him?

Here was the problem, then. The Venn diagram of People Who Could Help Him and People He Slept With were two entirely separate circles in his head. The first group, while professionals at what they did, was vanishingly small. They weren’t keen to being hired on, but he knew he could count on them when his back was against the wall. The second group was a nomadic trickle, rolling into his life, usually only docking for a few days, and then moving on, a random few ever circling back on the off-chance that he crossed paths with them again.

Only one person had filled both roles. Ages ago. His first.

Alaria.

He packed the thought away with immediate deliberation. The fact that she was an exception proved the rule. He could not sleep with the people who helped him, and he could not ask help from the people he slept with.

Was there any reason there couldn’t be another exception?

He looked around. Rayne’s home was small but well-kept. Comfortable. The shop was well-stocked and tidy. Her professional reputation was unquestioned. There was no way she would leave this all behind to join him on the impossible task of finding his son’s people.

Except for the fact that she had known about one of them. She was his only lead.

And the way she had looked out of the ship’s windscreen two days ago while they were in orbit, tracking the constellations like she was ready to go out there on her own. Stating as much that she’d felt confined, here.

Maybe she was ready for a break from civilized life.

She’d slept with a Mandalorian, for god’s sake.

Maybe she was ready to get a little uncivilized.

---

He found Rayne sitting on the edge of the ramp when he returned, scrolling through her datapad, the kid in the cargo hold behind her, sitting in the middle of the floor and levitating the large bearing in the air above him. She looked up at his approach. “So I have good news and bad news.”

He turned to sit on the floor at the other side of the ramp, back to the hull so he could see both her and the kid, knees pulled up just enough to rest his arms on them. “Let’s have the bad news first.”

“The Imps are here.”

His helmet tinked against the hull as he let his head fall back, letting out an exhale. “That didn’t take long.”

“Your excursion the day you got here must have caught someone’s attention. I’m actually surprised it took as long as it did.”

“What’s the good news?”

“Chances are at least one of them has the kind of fob Gideon is using to track you. I need one of those fobs to prototype the scramblers. We need to drop an Imp and grab one.”

“That’s easy enough.”

“Okay. So here’s the plan. I’ll make your supply run for you this morning – you set foot outside the hangar and Imps will be on you like fleas on a womprat. We get you guys all packed up and ready to go this afternoon. We take the Razor Crest to the abandoned shipyards on the other side of town so we don’t draw them to the hangar. You two bait the Imps, I drop one with a fob, then you guys get back on the ‘Crest and bounce for a while until I get the scramblers built. I’ll let you know when they’re ready and meet you wherever to exchange. It’ll probably be a few weeks. After that, I have some friends on Coruscant who can probably get you some more leads on your son.”

“You intend to stay here with Imps sniffing around while you build the scramblers.” His tone was less than pleased.

“They’ll disperse once they see you guys leave the atmosphere.”

“No, they won’t.” His voice took a hard crack, the image of broken and bloody armor flashing in his vision. “They knew I left Nevarro and they destroyed the covert anyway. They’ll kill anyone who helps me.”

“That’s why we’ll bait them at the shipyards. No one actually lives over there. It’ll be fine.”

“And if they find you with the fob? You have any idea what they’ll do to you?”

“I do. But they won’t.”

Din let out a long breath. This actually presented an opening for him, but he knew it would still be a fine line to walk. “I have a revision to the plan.”

“Okay.”

“But I have to ask you a question first. It might sound inappropriate, but…”

She broke eye contact, looking back out over the yard, a hard expression on her face. She gave a conciliatory sigh a moment later and her face softened. “Ok, that’s fair.” She turned her head back to face him. “Ask away.”

“I’m working on the assumption that you normally don’t sleep with your clients. So why me?”

She dropped her gaze for a moment, considering. “My general instinct is to fix broken things. Not that you’re broken per se, but you’re definitely at a crossroads. You want to be a better person, and you gave up everything to save this kid and go down this road. I admire that. I’ve never met anyone who’s made that kind of sacrifice. You deserved some happiness.” And maybe see if it would lead you to consider what I think you’re considering. Or at the very least, get you to trust me enough to get your shiny beskar ass to Coruscant to people I think can help you, so if we can just get on with this…

That tight feeling in his chest returned. God, he didn’t deserve all that. “What about you? What do you deserve?”

Her eyes narrowed in a frown, confused by his question.

“Did you… get what you wanted last night?”

“Wh- oh.” She laughed. “Wasn’t it obvious?”

The helmet tipped in acknowledgement. “You were right. It was… different for me. In a good way. I just… wanted to make sure…”

“Din, yes,” she smiled. She hadn’t expected him to be so insecure about this. “What does this all have to do with your plan revision?”

He took a long breath. Now or never. “Come with us.”

Here it was. Let’s see how serious he is. “What?”

“I… need help. I need your help. He needs your help. I can’t… do this alone anymore. The work I do – I can’t have him with me all the time. I can’t leave him unsupervised. I need someone to have my back. If I get injured, I need someone who can put me back together again. If I damage the ship, I need someone who can put that back together again. I need more leads to his people. I need someone who can take care of him if something happens to me. Chances are you’re the only one in the parsec who can help him in the ways he needs.” He trailed off, not knowing what else to say, not caring for the desperation he heard in his own tone.

She held his gaze for a moment, took a deep breath, then looked back out over the yard, as fully aware of his desperation as he was. She thought back to his words late last night. I found you. She thought further back to his very different words earlier in the evening. “This is a hard one-eighty from your ‘no attachments’ spiel last night.”

“It is.”

“What changed?”

“I realized you checked all the boxes.”

“You’ve known me for three days.”

“Am I wrong in my assessment?”

“That I can be your tutor-nanny-bodyguard-doctor-mechanic? No, you’re not wrong. But I’m not hearing anything about what I get out of this. As fine a lay as you are, that’s not enough for me to give up my life and join you on this mission.” C’mon, Djarin. Fight for it. Show me you can think outside that can of yours and see it from my side.

“The first night we were here, you said he’s the strongest user of the Force in the galaxy. I think you’re right. Two nights ago, you said you would do what you could to make the galaxy a better place. Here’s your chance.”

Hoo boy, he’s got me there. She was still looking out over the yard, but the look on her face seemed to acknowledge his words.

“You mentioned something about not getting off-planet enough. Preferring wide-open spaces.”

Another thoughtful sigh.

“The Imps will kill you if they find out what you’re up to.”

If. Big if. Ok, maybe a moderate if…

“This is a paid gig.”

This time she laughed and turned to face him. “Assuming average effort and pay on a bounty, how many days’ work did three days of my time cost you?”

Dammit. He’d gotten lucky on this one – only two days. Two long, full days. Normally though… “About a week.”

She smiled. “Oh, honey, you can’t afford me.” Her tone seemed to suggest that didn’t matter, though.

He sensed she’d already taken the bait. He tipped his head in his son’s direction. “You gonna’ look at that face and tell him no?”

“Uuurrrrrgh…”

Now she was just toying with him. He could play that game too. “I’ll let you fly the ship…” His tone was playful, sing-songing the last few words.

“I’ll tell you what…” she said, leaning back. “I have a few patent designs I’ve been sitting on. I need to get to Coruscant to get any good money for them anyway. Between that and some savings, we’re covered on… let’s call it a year’s worth of fuel and parts for the ship, lodging, plus some incidental gear. You cover food with the bounty gravy. I have a niece off-planet who’s been thinking of setting up her own shop. I’ll have her take over here once things cool down. That way, I can still tap this place if things go longer than a year. Plus whatever other patents I come up with.”

Din was speechless.  

When he didn’t respond after several moments, she leaned forward. “Everything ok in there?”

“Yes. I… Yes. That… that all sounds… that’ll work.”

“Okay,” she looked back out over the yard. “Packing up will take the rest of the day, then. We’ll drop the Imps tomorrow morning and head out.”

“One more request.”

“Hm?”

“Can we please bring your hairdryer?”

She smiled. “I’ll make sure to bring the hairdryer.”

They both turned as the kid laughed and clapped, the large bearing still floating over his head.

---

She’d donned a sand-colored wrap with a hood, not wanting the Imps to get too good of a look at someone who might look like they’re ready to skip town. “Remember,” she told Din. “They do urban patrols in pairs. Anyone shows up, drop them both and drag the bodies inside. Keep their helmets intact so you can respond with their own coms if they get any calls. I should be back in two hours.”

“Buzz me with your wristband if you have trouble.”

“I should be fine. I’m going to drop a few red herrings with some folks who know me that I’m heading out for a while. Give them something to say in case the Imps care if I’m not here and start asking around. Check the shop for any tools you don’t have that we have room for.”

He tipped his head. “Okay.” He hooked his finger around hers. “Two hours.” She held his gaze for a moment, then turned and left.

Her first stop was the bar on the outer edge of the market. She slid her empty hover-cart in a spot around the side of the low adobe building and headed in. The bartender looked up at her entrance. “Rollins.” His greeting was warm as he cleaned the surface of the bar at her usual spot.

“Carzan.”

“Little early for y’ to be in here. Rough night?”

“Nah,” she smiled. A damned good one, actually. “Thought I’d drop by for a milk before I headed out.”

“Which color would y’ like today?”

“Oh, let’s go with the blue stuff.”

“Comin’ up.” Carzan reached into the cooler, pulled out a bottle of bantha milk, popped the lid, and placed it in front of her. “Where y’ headed?”

“Naator. Family emergency.”

“Sorry to hear it.”

“It’ll be ok. It’s been a while since I’ve been off-planet, so it’ll do me good either way. Hey, I cancelled all of my appointments, but if anyone comes by, tell them not to wait on me. I might be a while.” She placed a several times the normal tip on the bar.

Carzan considered the sum and scooped it off the surface. “Will do. That bad, huh?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Not sure yet. Thought it best to clear the calendar.” She downed half the bottle, then gesture to the screen behind the bar showing the local news. “So what’s with all the Imps in town, anyway?”

He shrugged, his expression darkening. “Not sure. They haven’t gotten this far yet. But they’re not messin’ around. They’re under some Moff who made an example of some folks who didn’t cooperate earlier this mornin’.” He turned back to the screen. “Yeah, they’re playin’ it now.”

Rayne watched the screen as Moff Gideon strode to three people on their knees, bound, in the middle of a neighborhood square. He stood between them and the camera, pulled a handle from his hip, activated a black energy blade from it, and made a sweeping motion with his arm. When he walked away, three heads lay on the ground as their accompanying bodies slumped over.

“Bloody hell,” Carzan swore.

Rayne found herself unable to move. Unable to breathe. An icy tendril began to wrap itself around the base of her spine and creep up her ribs.

“What the hell kinda’ sword do y’ think that is?” Carzan asked.

“I don’t know.” Her response was barely more than a whisper.

Oh, but she knew all right. She knew exactly what it was, and she had a very, very bad feeling about this.

It was the Darksaber.

---

She did her best to keep her hands from shaking as she procured all of the provisions. Mostly non-perishables, only enough in the way of fresh stuff to tide them over until they got to where they were going next. Medical supplies. A new wrench to replace the one the kid had swallowed yesterday (and so thoughtfully returned this morning). Fabricating materials. A front-loader baby-carrier. Ammunition. Lunch for when she got back and dinner for tonight.

And a big rubber frog.

She got back five minutes before her deadline, and Din had already picked out everything he wanted from the shop, gotten it squared away on the ship, and made some room for Rayne’s belongings for when she was ready to load up. “Any trouble?” he asked.

“Not really,” she responded. “Any trouble here?”

“No. Ship’s fueled up.”

“Good.”

They took a break for lunch, Din bolting his food in the kitchen without tasting it, then joining Rayne and his son outside as Rayne picked through the second half of her meal, expression pensive behind the amber shades. Something was gnawing at her. “What did you see out there?” he asked.

“Hm? Oh. We can talk about it later. Those headaches getting any better?”

He tipped his head, knowing he hadn’t said anything about them. “I’m fine.” I’m fine right now, anyway.

“Hm.” Distracted, she finished her lunch.

---

“I just need some rest,” Din said.

They stood on the flight deck that evening, the ship all packed up and ready to go, discussing their next move.

“We need a place to lay low for a while,” Rayne said. “You need more than rest. You’re worn down. You’re underweight. I need to get these fob scramblers prototyped before we set foot on Coruscant. All three of us need some training. Three weeks, minimum.”

“Three weeks in here?” Din loved the Razor Crest, but the thought of being sealed up in it with two others in deep space for that long made him want to scream.

“No,” she smiled. “I know just the place. Let me show you.” She did a quick search on the map and brought it up. “Methuselah. No indigenous or settling sapients, tons of temperate forest, fresh water, fish, game, edible greens.”

“How does a place like that stay uninhabited?” His tone was laced with cynicism, wondering what the catch was.

She zoomed the image out. “It doesn’t have much in the way of mineral deposits, so it’s unsuitable for any kind of industry. It’s also tricky to get to. The magnetic field in the upper atmosphere at the poles is outrageously strong – ships get ripped apart unless you go through at the equator, which is guarded by a nearly impenetrable asteroid belt.”

“Of course it is.” He sat down with a petulant sigh. “This does us no good if we can’t get to it.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” she said, smiling. “I can get us there.”

His only response was a dip in the helmet.

“There’s a competition here once a year. Pilots get together to see who can make it through first. Most don’t make it at all. You’re looking at a two-time winner.”

“You’ve gotten through that twice.”

“Yes. And back out, so technically four times.”

“With a ship this size.”

“N- no.” She gave a conciliatory shrug. “Old X-wings. They were easy to get through, though. I could use more of a challenge. It’ll be fun!”

“No. Not with my ship. Not with our lives.”

“Din,” she put her hand over his, recognizing his need for her to take this seriously. “I’m telling you. We need this. I can do it. I know you don’t have much reason to trust me on this, but that’s what I’m asking. Trust me.”

“Did you use the Force to get through?”

“Passively, yes. Precognition. I sense where the gaps between the asteroids will be before they open up.”

“You cheated.” His tone was hard.

She shrugged. “Passive use. I was still mostly on my own at that point and kept forgetting that normal people can’t do that. I don’t have to try. It just… happens. I figured it out after the second win and quit. I’ll have to be more active to get the Crest through. Push a few rocks out of the way. Look a little harder.”

“How much of a challenge will this be for you?”

“I’ll have to concentrate – it’ll take my full attention. I’m more worried about you two. I’d prefer it if you were down in the hold-”

“No.”

“Which is what I figured, so I’ll need you both on empty stomachs. It’s going to be a wild ride, and neither one of us wants any puking up here.”

“We’ve been through rough rides before. We’ll be fine.”

“So that’s a yes?”

Din sighed. “Yes.”

Rayne’s face suddenly grew serious as she turned to the hold. “Get the kid but stay on the ship.”

“What? Why?”

“We’re going to have company in a few minutes.”

A few minutes later, Din had put the sleeping kid in his crate, moved him up to the flight deck, and locked the door closed on him. He stood next to the port exit of the ship, back to the hull, sidearm drawn, listening to Rayne talk to two Stormtroopers outside in the yard.

“What’s up, guys?” Her tone was nonchalant.

“We’re looking for two fugitives. A Mandalorian who kidnapped a green infant.”

“Huh. Conspicuous pair. Surprised you haven’t found them yet.”

“The Mandalorian was spotted in this area three days ago.”

“Haven’t seen them.” He could almost hear the shrug in her voice.

“They’re traveling in a dual-engine gunship.”

“Haven’t seen one of those either.” Do they not see the dual-engine gunship right in front of their faces?

“We’re going to have to search your establishment.”

Rayne continued. “It’s late. You’ve been out all day looking for those two. You’re tired. Y’know what? The bar down the street has a great bantha burger. You should go try it out.”

“Mmm.” The junior trooper was clearly interested.

“It’s happy hour,” Rayne said. “If you leave now, you’ll make it for the two-for-one beer special.”

Din couldn’t believe his ears when he heard the junior trooper yawn. “Wow. Yeah. I’m exhausted. That beer sounds great right now.”

“I’m not much of a beer person,” the ranking trooper said.

“Mid-week whiskey special is tonight.”

“Now you’re talking.”

Din’s eyes went wide as the ranking trooper conceded, heart hammering in his chest. What am I hearing? What is going on?

Rayne’s voice again. “There’s nothing out here anyway. Just write up your report that you checked and didn’t find anything, and be done with it.”

“There’s nothing out here. Let’s just go back.”

“Have a good night, guys.”

“G’night, ma’am.”

Din holstered his sidearm as he listened to her footsteps ascend the ramp, and tapped the button to close it when she was inside. “What. The hell. Was that?” His voice was rough through the modulator.

She gave him a wry smile. “Sorcery and fairytales.”

He led her to the bunk.

---

He twitched awake.

He was alone. Darkness shrouded the hold. Sounds of the kid’s breathing, still deep in sleep, drifted up from his crate, placed just outside of the bunk.

He slid out just enough to get his feet to the floor and poked his head out. Looking to his left, he saw that Rayne had pulled a chair up against the starboard side of the hull, and sat facing the sealed port exit, his Amban across her knees.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about an enemy sorcerer handling his rifle. He couldn’t tell if she’d loaded it, but he could see the four rounds she’d tucked into the top of her boot, pressed against the muscle of her calf. He hauled himself out and walked over, bare feet padding on the floor. “Hey,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey.” Her hands remained on his rifle, but she looked up to the visor for a moment before looking back to the closed ramp.

“What’s up?”

“Woke up. Couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“You always guard exits with disruptor weapons when that happens?”

That finally got a smile out of her. She reached up to his hand on her shoulder and traced the fingers there. “No. I just… don’t have an excellent feeling about this.”

“Got a better plan?”

“No.”

“Any other visitors on the way tonight?”

“I don’t think so.”

He took a slow breath. “Come back to bed?”

“You want some alone time in there without the helmet or anything?”

“I’m fine. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He lifted his rifle from her lap with one hand and held out the other.

She pulled the rounds from her boot and placed them in his outstretched palm.

---

Rayne stood in the center of her bedroom, early morning sun filtering in through the windows as she took one last look around. Din stood in the kitchen with the kid tucked in at his side, leaning back against the counter, his posture relaxed.

Her home for the last five years. A mostly solitary existence, but a peaceful one. A reasonably profitable one. A boast most people couldn’t make. Her truly necessary possessions, her laptop and all encompassed intellectual property, whatever tools they could fit, and apparently her hairdryer, were all packed up on the ship. They’d moved the bulkier machinery and all but two of the bots to the hidden basement. There wasn’t much else to leave behind. The uncertainty of whether or not she would ever return to it tugged at the corner of her mind.

So much, and yet so little.

She looked to the Mandalorian standing in her kitchen holding the small, green baby with the enormous ears. Not something she would have predicted to ever see in her kitchen. That baby had upended the Mandalorian’s life, turned him completely upside down and inside out.

And now they would do the same to her.

“Ready?” Din asked, voice soft.

“Ready.”

---

Rayne walked the street with her hood pulled over her head, the baby strapped to her chest in the carrier, what Din had called a birikad.

The Imps would be here any minute.

They had made a long, slow pass over the abandoned shipyards with the Razor Crest, deliberately advertising their presence. One of her bots was jacked in on the flight deck ready to lift off, with only minimum objection from Din. Another one strolled at her side, ready to run whatever interference was needed.

The baby was the bait. She was the hook.

Din lurked on the rooftop, ten stories above.

No one ever looked up.

Sure enough, a platoon of Stormtroopers appeared ahead, marching in formation, approaching. She stood her ground and let them come. The baby was quiet, sensing Rayne’s enforced calm before the coming confrontation.

Trooper 113ZC, “Zach,” led the platoon. He’d volunteered for it, for this particular mission. He normally wasn’t so ambitious. Just got along to get along. Imp work kinda sucked, but it beat starving to death. This mission though… this one was interesting. A baby! What the hell kind of nutball kidnaps a baby and drags it all the way around the Outer Rim of the galaxy for almost a year? A Mandalorian nutball, apparently. He’d never seen a Mandalorian before, but had heard the stories of how the Empire had nearly wiped them out, the war-worshiping people representing such a threat to peace and prosperity. If Zach could be part of a mission to bring another one down and save an innocent baby in the process, well, that would be something worthwhile.

It never occurred to Zach to wonder why someone like Moff Gideon was so interested in this baby.

It never occurred to Zach to wonder why Gideon thought this baby was worth beheading people in a village square over.

And when Zach marched up to the hooded woman with a baby strapped to her chest, the baby that the fob on his hip was keyed into, according to the link in his HUD, it never occurred to him to look up.

The woman was only average height, and had to lift her face to him when he stopped before her. She did not pull the hood away, so all he saw of her were the shadows below her brows and cheekbones. Something unfamiliar twisted in Zach’s chest, his orders for her to hand the baby over dying on his lips.

“Hey,” the woman said. “What’s up?”

Zach’s head swam. “We’re… looking for… looking for a baby.”

“Oh,” she said, her voice a seasoned alto, bringing her hand to the bundle before her. “You mean this baby?”

Zach felt suddenly drowsy. “Yeah… that… baby.”

The woman smiled. “You can’t have him.”

“But I… we…” What the hell was going on?

“You can’t have him,” she repeated.

“I can’t have him,” he echoed.

“I want your tracking fob,” she said.

“N- y- yeah, ok.” He reached for his hip, disconnected the fob from his armor, and handed it to her.

She reached out, took it, and put it in her pocket. She smiled. “Thank you.”

“You… you’re welcome?” He didn’t think this was how it was supposed to go.

“Will this track the Mandalorian as well?”

“Yeah. Just… flip the switch on the bottom.”

“Thank you. Are you tired, trooper?”

Goddamn, was he ever. “Yeah.”

“Go to sleep.”

Trooper 113ZC collapsed.

The other nineteen members of the platoon made the mistake of leveling their blasters at Rayne Rollins.

“Go. To. Sleep.”

 The other nineteen members of the platoon collapsed.

Rayne turned and ran.

From the rooftop, Din pulled the scope from his visor and shoved it into his belt. He stood up, turned, ran to the other end of the roof, and jumped off.

His jetpack kicked on, slowed his descent, and shut off when his feet hit the ground running behind Rayne, blaster already in his hand, covering their retreat. He knew she wouldn’t be able to keep the troopers down for long. Running, weighed down by the beskar, he found that keeping up with her wasn’t easy. When she flinched to the left, he followed, trusting her precognition, watching the blaster bolt zing by over their shoulders. He stopped and turned, firing on the troopers who had gotten up and were following, dropping five of them to the ground, dead. He turned back and ran. He saw her flinch again. He took this one in the shoulder, grunting as it ricocheted into the jetpack and then struck him again near the middle of his back before it lost momentum and dropped out. He stopped again to lay down more cover fire, wishing they’d had more time to set up obstacles to cover them on the way back to the ship. He turned again to run.

He was going full-speed when two bolts hit him in the back of the head in a one-two pulse.

His world went white.

And then it went black.

Din lost consciousness immediately.

Up ahead, Rayne staggered, catching herself on the bot running next to her.

Din’s jetpack, not quite yet dialed in, kicked on of its own accord before his body had a chance to fall, launching him twenty feet into the air and turning him over before cutting off and dropping him back to the ground again, sliding ten feet through the dirt.

Rayne let out a strangled yell and came to a stop. “Gamma…” she called to the bot as she undid the straps holding the baby to her. She handed the bundle to the bot. “Get the kid to the ship and lock him in the bunk. Tell Beta to fire up the engines and then come back.” The bot chirped an acknowledgement and sped off.

Rayne turned, facing into the oncoming blaster fire, and ran back for Din. When she reached him, she Forced out another command to the troopers to buy more time. “Get. Down.” The blaster fire paused long enough for her to pull Din up by the chestplate, get his arms over, and haul him up over her shoulders. He wasn’t quite as heavy as she expected, but he would still slow her down considerably. She did the best she could, a kind of shuffling jog, wincing as another blaster bolt caught the plate in his back, just below the jetpack.

Gamma returned, blaster bolts deflecting off of its force-field, reaching out for Din’s body as she handed him over. “Go go go! Lift off as soon as you get him on board!” The bot once again chirped and sped off, Rayne following.

Troopers were now arriving from both sides of the street. She put them down as they took aim, her head starting to ache. Blaster bolts continued to zing all around her.

She ran.

She ran.

She heard the Razor Crest’s engines flaring to life up ahead.

She ran.

She tripped, plowed face-first into the street, rolled out of it the best she could, got back up.

And ran.

Rayne burst back into the shipyard as the Crest was lifting off, portside ramp still down. Leaping, she caught the end of the ramp. “Go!” Gamma relayed her command from the hold and Beta, still jacked in on the flight deck, punched the throttle. The engines roared and the forward momentum dragged her to the corner of the ramp, and she got another hand on it. Just as she swung a leg up to hook her heel around the raised edge, a blaster bolt grazed her left arm and she lost her grip with her left hand, screaming with pain and frustration. The ship accelerated quickly and she could feel herself start to peel off of the ramp, felt the ramp itself start to vibrate, not really meant to be deployed at this speed. “Close the ramp!” Somehow, Gamma heard her over the thundering of the engines and hit the button. As the ramp started to lift, her hope was that she could shimmy around onto it and slide down into the hold.

She’d forgotten about the hydraulic lifter sliding along the side of the ramp in its track, heading right for her.

Oh, shit.

She was ripped from the ramp and was flying through the air.

Flying through the air into the ship.

She flew across the hold, struck the hull on the other side with her hip and a grunt, and crashed to the deck as the ramp sealed shut.

That done, Beta switched over to its pre-programmed emergency escape response and put the throttle all the way down, the ship coming alive all around her with a steady thrum as the engines flung them through the atmosphere.

From the middle of the hold, the baby laughed and clapped.

Rayne glared at Gamma. “I told you to lock him in the bunk.”

Gamma shrugged with a quarking sound. You thought that would work?

She shook her head, then looked back to the baby. “Thanks.”

Instead of responding, he turned his attention to the front section of the hold, to the sound of metal sliding on metal.

Din.

Not trusting her hip, she dragged herself over to him, finding him on his back in a puddle of his own blood, body twitching as he started to seize.

Oh, no.

Her vision swam as her own blood ran freely down her arm from the blaster graze.

She grunted as she rolled him over just enough to access the catches on the jetpack and disconnected it from his armor. She slid it out of the way, backed herself against the bulkhead next to the bunk, leaned forward, hooked Din under the arms, and dragged him up so the back of his head thumped against her sternum, shoulders between her knees. Reaching to the bunk behind her, she pulled the sheet off, took it in her teeth, and started ripping it up into strips.

The ship thrummed around her as Beta took evasive action from Imperial pursuit.

The engines thundered as Din’s lungs filled and emptied between her shins and his blood spilled into her hands and his body twitched against her in weak pulses.

Her eyes rolled to the side and caught the kid standing next to her, eyes wide and round, waiting.

“Hey, buddy. I need your help.”

[the-firebird69]

And we have a couple other announcements and he's got to train this rest there's people are past but they they're past but they are rebels they're trying stuff but they're also trying to hit us with nuclear weapons obviously we should not let them do that and we're going to come down on them for it And very hard I'm coming up soon parties are going in all the time and deactivating their weapons it is a constant constant battle. And there are of course other things going on. But this is huge huge news that they're ready to nuke people at a moment's notice and we have to defend ourselves so we are preparing to deflect any of that activity asap and we mean business

- Among other things they are trending with missiles from military bases they confiscated And we are retrieving those no we go in there and ruin them and other people do too tons of times repetitively.

- Among other things they have a lot of weaponry they took from other people no they took it from Trump and Trump has his own and they are going to try and invade the planet using it however Trump is going to find that he'll have to try and repel BJA who wants him all for himself and his people. And that's coming up in the next few days when he wraps it up in the Eastern Hemisphere. And most of the Trump's jewels will be out of there through evacuation death and that's pretty much how they'll try and hide and get routed out by others.

- There are also a couple other things pretty huge happening and those are definitely huge and definitely happening at this location they are going around **** napalm and trying to tell people off and that is VJA and the Trump Stone ever backed down and they getting beat up and picked up and pulled away it's going on now BJA in his were timid but now they're going to uncork the 5 and they are filling up the three that are remaining and they're gonna take him all and they're going to leave a big force and come this way and start taking the others and with a huge force and it will be monitored by spaceships and they won't be able to get their ships in to do anything and they're gonna try to move when they do it and it will fail because of that and yeah that'll be a war in space and it won't take that long also once they do that maneuver they're going to start to try and take territory from Trump in the South and the West mostly huge areas by the way and Trump is going to counter attack if he takes over and devastates every using unconventional warfare including nuclear weapons crabs and other forces and nature fire and so on bugs and he's planned to for a long time and he wants to look like God and things like that. So is an awful person

- There's other things going on as well they're ramping up everyday to this coming Saturday where like last week they became by times 10 on Saturday they say times three is the number will be very big and that would be a huge force and it'll take some effort to knock it down and it's going to happen in all the middle areas and the Midwest they're going to send in a decent sized portion of that and the rest will be on the pseudo empire we expect the pseudo empire to be broken down a bit this coming Saturday we think only 30% but some of the complexes will be lost and plugged up and abandoned and that will cost the Mac Warlock a lot more than they think it's all not to touch them and other things are **** them off all day long

= And a couple more things we don't want your company we don't need your company and we're sick of your company we need to shut your mouths.

- Along with building up to Saturday there's going to be a huge huge force on Sunday during the day in the Western Hemisphere they want to try to launch a daylight attack on the pseudo empire and see what the difference is the guys can't see **** at night and our son was wondering why the hell are doing that and he says you might need special goggles and they went and looked in there not a special goggles and if you look at the minion movie a lot of them have them on. Between

- And it's on no it is on though but there are huge armies gathering for tonight and we know about it but it's twice as much as last night and it's a big force if you calculated from Saturday night to tonight Tuesday night it's three nights each night it doubles so it's six times Saturday night really big and it's going to get bigger tomorrow and bigger Thursday than tomorrow and so on Saturday times three of what they've been sending and Sunday is going to be even bigger and it's going to be up in the percentage points pretty soon and they're expending them but they sort of say that they know what they're doing all this is going to happen this week and they will be shipping out we think Friday or Saturday from the Eastern Hemisphere if they open up eat more and they're emptying empty like 4 more they're gonna send over the 8th a emptied and leave a contingent from each and we have to watch that and the max too these forces will be over here by ship we think Friday evening or Saturday morning and that's for Sunday that's very bad that's a lot of weaponry and we have to try and stop him BJ is getting closer but those bunkers are damn deep the remaining three are not that deep they're half as deep and those will still take two or three days but this is ridiculous so it will come to fruition and we know the rate and we know a day and it's not far away.

Thor Freya

Olympus