#metal home

[biblicallyaccuratebeskar]

Metal Home

Read Chapter 1 Here

Also on AO3

Chapter 2/22: ~1.7K words

Explosion

He was a Mandalorian, alright. Head to toe in unpainted beskar and a blaster pointed at my chest. His stature was tall, wide, and unnervingly still. I remember reading about them in the books back home. They were rare these days, almost legend. Just my luck to have one stand in between me and freedom. My eyes crept down to his unarmed hand, which held a blinking tracker. A bounty hunter. Did I have a bounty on me now, too?

“Are you a captive?” His voice came out deep and gruff, modulated through his helmet.

Was I a captive? Were the gag and handcuffs too subtle? I nodded cautiously.

He flicked out a knife from his pocket and walked forward. I made sounds of protest but he ignored them, taking me by the shoulder and cutting off my gag in one fluid motion. I took in gasp as he took care of my handcuffs as well.

“Listen to me carefully,” he said, not stopping for me to catch my breath. He pulled out a puck from his belt and a glowing image of the captain sprung to life before us. “Is this the man that’s keeping you?”

“Yes,” I replied. I began to gather that maybe the bounty wasn’t on me.

“Is he here?” I didn’t know for sure, but I nodded again.

The Mandalorian stood up. “Help me get to him, stay out of my way, and I’ll see to it you’re freed.” There it was: my ticket out. I stood up, new adrenaline rushing in. Looking into his helmet I had to crane my neck up ever so slightly. It unnerved me that I couldn’t read his expression.

“Control room is to the left, down the hallway. I don’t know what’s to the right,” I offered. He spun around, a brown cape swishing behind him as he exited the cell. I didn’t remember a cape being an integral part of Mandalorian armor. No matter how outlandish his fashion choices were, I followed him out the door.

We set off towards the control room when shuffling came from behind us.

“Hey! You!”

The Mandalorian and I both turned to see who else but Gero. He looked worse for wear with a crazed look in his eye, like he had seen a ghost. I remembered the two thuds I heard, presumably the other men. Out of my peripheral vision, the Mandalorian pulled out his blaster with inhuman speed, but he didn’t shoot. I was already running towards him.

I slid on my side, kicking Gero in the ankles, toppling him to the ground. The blaster he was holding with shaking hands slid across the floor and I dove on it, swinging it around and smacking him across the face. His head slumped to the side, out cold, and I jumped up, pocketing the blaster.

I turned, smiling, to see the Mandalorian slowly lower his blaster and stalk back towards the control room. Maybe I disappointed him, taking away his shot. He seemed to have the flair for the dramatics. I followed him into the control room, both our blasters poised. My eyes scanned, but I couldn’t see Captain Buzzcut.

“You said he was here,” he growled, turning to me.

“In case you didn’t notice, the prison cell I was being kept in didn’t have windows,” I shot back. “Now if you excuse me, I’m going to go find him in the other part of the base.” I turned around and-

“I don’t think that will be needed.”

Shit. The Mandalorian and I re-aimed our blasters in sync.

The captain stood in front of us, both hands holding blinking metal globes. His posture was relaxed and confident, smile predatory.

“Deactivate them.” The Mandalorian was talking about the globes. “Now, or I’ll fire. And you’re no good to me dead.”

The captain laughed loud and long. Too loud. “I’ve heard of your kind, Mando. Heard stories. Never seen one, though.” He shook his head. “How disappointing it must be to you that I have the upper hand.”

I suddenly realized, with horrifying certainty, that the things he was holding were ticking bombs. Something primal and fearful in me tumbled over itself. I looked over in panic to the Mandalorian to see his aim hadn’t wavered.

“I know I’m no good dead, Mando. Know too much. Seen too much, too. That’s why I’m dragging you to hell with me.” He was shaking now. So was I. “You and the little bitch-“

BANG!

Shot through the head, his body crumpled, the bombs clinking to the floor. The Mandalorian rushed forward before I could react and kicked the bombs down the hallway. I saw the blinking lights accelerate and heard a click.

“Get down!” He yelled, shoving me aside as they detonated.

The world shook as I fell. Light and heat burst through the hallway, sending shrapnel flying. The force funneled through the space and pushed into the control room, sending the Mandalorian flying back into a control panel. I curled into a ball, covering my head and stayed there as I felt the dust settle.

I looked over at the Mandalorian. He was sprawled on the floor, unmoving.

He pushed me out of the way.

“Hey. Hey, Mando,” I croaked, crawling over to him. I coughed on the smoke and dust as I shook his chest. He didn’t stir. “C’mon, we gotta go.”

I looked up around me at the swirling smoke and drifting embers, and in the hallway saw a light filtering through the waves of gray. The explosion had blasted a hole through the hallway into the outside world. An exit.

I could have ran out then. But looking at the Mandalorian I knew I couldn’t.

“Ok, big boy. Try to make this easy on me.” I grabbed him by his belt and that stupid cape and began to drag him towards the hole. I groaned as I slid him across the floor. Maker, he was heavy with all that beskar. After more pulls and grunts we made it outside the blasted out exit.

“I really hope you didn’t walk here, Mando.” The small base was in an open glen, surrounded by trees. I scanned the forest line hoping to see some sort of ship. Squinting I saw a glint of metal peaking though the branches. Seemed like a good option. With a heave I started pulling him again.

We made it about halfway through the glen when I heard blaster fire. A shot whizzed past my ear, hot and sharp. I gasped spinning around to see Gero, alive and and on a trigger happy rampage.

More blasts whizzed by, one ricocheting off the Mandalorian’s chest plate. I cried out before realizing it deflected. Beskar was heavy, but at least it was effective.

My breath was coming in sharp gasps as I tried to pull him while running towards the metal in the woods. We finally dipped behind the trees, somehow unscathed. Gero was somewhere nearby yelling and cursing. I couldn’t tell if he was in pursuit or not but I didn’t stop to listen. My whole body was screaming at me to stop, arms and legs burning as I pulled him through the underbrush.

My fingers cramped and I dropped him. Cursing, I fell next to him, crouching, fumbling for my blaster. Breathing heavily, I spun around on my knees, pointing the weapon at every crack of a branch, every flutter of a leaf.

For a brief, horrible moment I realized the Mandalorian might be dead and I was just carrying around his body. But I quickly shook it off. I couldn’t think of that, not now.

My head felt like it was going to explode, the adrenaline plateauing as I waited for Gero to jump out of the trees. Painfully, my throat grew hard and I was hit by a sudden urge to go back to a home that didn’t exist anymore.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, reaching down inside, scooping into that store of myself I’d tried to ignore. I listened. Felt.

There.

I shot. Would’ve been a dead giveaway if I had missed, but I didn’t. Gero yelled as he fell. I didn’t see him, but I heard him hit the ground. I could’ve cried but I knew I had to keep going. Latching back onto the Mandalorian, I continued towards the metallic shimmer.

Finally, a clearing opened up and to my utter relief I guessed right. A ship stood in front of me, his ship.

A Razor Crest. Of all the ships in the galaxy, it was a damn Razor Crest. Something closed off in my heart squeezed and I whispered a small thank you.

Opening the hull, I dragged him in and closed the doors. It was dark and still. I leaned him up against a wall and fell to my knees, shaking, finally truly looking at him.

I couldn’t see any blood, and no limbs looked broken. For a reason I couldn’t name, I dared not take off his armor. Instead I stilled and stared intently at his chest plate, willing to see him breathe. And he did. It was slight, but there, and in the silence of the Crest I could hear it through the modulator too. He was alive. Thank the fucking Maker, he was alive.

I looked around the cabin. It was modest, the ship of a lone bounty hunter. Carbonite cryo chamber. Weapons closet, storage crates. An enclosed latrine, a small kitchen, and a bed in the corner, all organized to a tee. There was a ladder, going up to the cockpit I assumed.

“Well, Mando, I think I’m done carrying your ass around for the day.”

My knees threatened to buckle as I climbed the rungs, and I found myself in front of the main console. I sat in the center chair, taking in the buttons and switches. Before long we were in lightspeed.

I didn’t set a location. I didn’t know where to go. As I sat there taking in the blue ripples of space and time I felt my eyelids getting heavy as the exhaustion finally set in.

I leaned into the leather of the chair and let my brain leak into hyperspace.

[catwouthats]

THEY MAKE ME INSANE

Proof below:

Also, I’m fucking crying, I think his arm is like that bc he fell asleep holding the photo.

EDIT: more proof:

[toyastales]

Bat lantern from 1930.

[steampunktendencies]

That's really cool

[yumaisbored]

Xie Lian always describes Hua Cheng as so effortlessly handsome—as if that man hasn't been meticulously planning every single outfit XL sees for more than five hundred years... mf is making SURE the angle of that crooked ponytail is perfect

[worstreligiousfanart]

Laundry Room Laundry in Austin

[vintagehomecollection]

Simple, coordinating furniture gives this office an uncluttered, efficient ambience. The rolling file cart keeps paperwork accessible and organized.

A Portfolio of Home Office Ideas, 1998

[meziniart]

As he walks me through the nicest parts of hell I still dream of lips I never should have kissed

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 169

Danny is from a world where everyone has wings, even if most have long since lost the ability to fly. Something about loading and aspect ratio, wings being too small, body too heavy, now mostly used as display, whatever. 

It doesn’t matter even if he had blueprints from when he was like six of a jetpack to help fly. It won’t work anyway and hey, he has his ghost form! Which uh, might be perhaps, affecting his wings which were maybe sort of scorched black and practically down to the bone thanks to the accident. 

It doesn’t matter, he swears. Though he’s admittedly relieved to see the new feathers growing in are different from Dan’s angry sunset. Even if they’re not even supposed to be able to grow back. Alright, this is fine, no one is going to notice! It’s not like everyone knows about the poor Fenton kid whose wings were absolutely destroyed thanks to an accident! It’s fine. 

He’s not flying in a half-panic towards the Far Frozen while crying because his wings are coming back and he’s so scared. He didn’t panic and instantly fled the moment Jazz pointed them out while changing the bandages. 

He definitely didn’t trip over something while wiping away said tears and blacking out from all the stress and all of his problems that he definitely mentioned to someone and isn’t keeping a secret. Definitely. 

Hawkwoman and Hawkman would like everyone to know that neither of them were expecting a very small child to be spat out of the villain of that week’s machine that should definitely not be a portal. A very small child, maybe nine or ten, with a multitude of concerning wounds both old and fresh. Which isn’t even beginning to touch on the wings. 

Feathered, like baby down despite the gnarled scars, unlike their own metallic, with the beginning of tiny specklings like stars amidst the darker fuzz peeking from the wounded flesh. 

Who?! Who dared?! It’s (at least to the forever reincarnating duo) a literal baby! They still have down! Tiny baby fuzz! Was it the portal?! Oh this villain is going to taste their maces for causing this if that’s the case! 

The rest of the Justice League would honestly like to know what just happened and are honestly unsure on if they should stop the two…

[icarusredwings]

So you guys know how I have that Finding Home Au? Well.. I did a thing.

Text written below! If you are color blind im so sorry.

From left to right, top to bottom.

@icarus_redwings

Finding Home Au

(ADULT) Kitty Pryde to Colossus: Goes on dates, Casual.

From Gambit to rouge: would fucking die for her despite just meeting

From Rouge to Gambit: the quote 'He's a bit of a flirt but ill give it a chance' from Hamilton.

Rouge to Kurt: Half sibilings

Kurt: Celibate MF

Kurt to Logan: His first and last time (breaking celibacy since his oath)

Logan to Kurt: Wouldn't leave his grave like a mourning dog.

Vanessa: ex fiancé

Vanessa to Wade: GF+BF

Wade to ADULT (specifically andrew garfield) peter parker: The one that got away

Spiderman to Deadpool: Oblivious+ thinks hes joking.

Wade to Cable: FAT CRUSH

Wade to Colossus: One time thing

Wade to Logan: Married ex boyfriends

Logan to Morph: Oblivious+ thinks he's joking.

Morph to Logan: Literally has loved him for years.

Logan to storm: Will bite someone for her

Storm to Forge: Married

Storm to Logan: good terms

Jean to Scott: Married.

Scott to Jean to Logan then back to himself: ???

Scott to Cable: Son.

Charles: Presumably dead (?)

Erik to charles: married

Erik: "Visits his son" Aka pathetically wonders around for charles to 'come back'

[biblicallyaccuratebeskar]

Metal Home

Abstract:

Din Djarin was accustomed to being alone. In fact, most of the time he preferred it. But then, like a force nudging him into a different orbit, she was there.

Larkin Vega never expected to be a bounty hunter, but when offered a free view and a bag full of credits, she decides to rough it with the quiet Mandalorian who saved her life.

Sometimes the loneliest people tend to find each other when they need it most.

Also on AO3

Chapter 1/22: ~1.4K words

Captive

8 ABY

“Play it again!”

“Yeah, play it again!”

“One more time! One more time!”

The pub was electric with chants and drunken chatter. Pattel, the owner, chuckled as he flipped the switch behind the bar. The hologram above everyone flickered as it wound in reverse. I watched the blue image of the second Death Star piece itself back together, the crowd cheering as it exploded once again.

Today marked four years since the fall of the Empire. I was in this pub when the news spread, people flooding into the streets, hugging strangers, tears streaming. At last there was peace in the Galaxy. Well, in theory. Those four years both crept and sped by, and regardless I was still alone.

Alone as much as a bartender could be. Pattel had offered me a job when I was hungry and desperate, and I stayed, like a stray animal given a warm bed. So I had him, and the regulars. Tonight I wasn’t getting paid, but he kept the taps free and flowing and maybe that was enough. He was kind in that way.

A man emerged from the crowd and approached the bar seat I was perched on, away from the chaos. I recognized him. He had been frequenting the pub a lot in the past few weeks. And Maker, did he have an interest in pestering me. I ignored him as much as I could, reminding myself that even the most persistent of creeps paid the bills.

His pointy shoulders were hunched as he approached. He set down two glasses of brown liquid in front of us, scruffy beard twitching. “Ah, diversifying from the usual ale, I see?” I remarked, forcing a smile.

“This here is Elecian whiskey. Very rare. Very expensive.” His eyebrows wiggled. I bit back a grimace.

“I see. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Oh, these are for me, girly. I gotta enjoy the finer things in life, you know? That’s why I’m talking to you.” His yellow teeth bared as I let out a brittle laugh. “Besides, I don’t think you could handle it. It’s very strong.”

“You don’t think I could handle a little shot?” I didn’t like playing into his charade, but I couldn’t resist a challenge. Besides, he wasn’t lying. Elecian whiskey wasn’t cheap, and a free shot might have given me enough agreement to get through the rest of this conversation without banging my head on the bar.

He held his hands up. “Please, by all means then. I insist.”

I grabbed the glass and downed it without a second thought. It burned on the way down and I blinked back tears, but damn did it hurt good. I could already feel the warmth spreading in my chest. His hungry eyes traced over me and I tried to ignore the ecstasy in his expression.

“Good, good,” he muttered. I saw that as my cue to end the conversation.

“Alright, well this has been lovely but I should be...” I swayed, my knees feeling jellylike. Forcefully, I tried to play it off with a laugh, but my head was spinning. The whiskey couldn’t have been that strong, could it?

He looped his arm in mine. “Well it’s a good thing that I’m heading out too. Shall we?”

The room tilted at a dangerous angle. I was out before I could respond.

——

It was dark when I awoke. I took in deep, gasping breaths as my eyes adjusted. Where the hell was I? In some sort of closet?

My memories caught up to my consciousness. That motherfucker drugged me. How could I have been so stupid? I played right into his game.

I got up looking around. It wasn’t a closet, but it was the size of one. Completely bare minus me. The door handle was locked upon me trying, naturally. After I tried to pick at the lock, as if on cue, it swung open. A new man stood in front of me.

“Hi, what the fuck is this? You’re going to let me go now,” I said, trying to squeeze past him. He pushed my shoulders back smiling, letting out a low laugh. “Oh no, missy, this isn’t how this is going to work. You’re my cargo now. And you’re going to cooperate.”

He was huge with a gray buzz cut that looked like it was done by someone blind. His breath smelled like rot.

“Yeah, I’m not cargo and I won’t be cooperating. Let. Me. Go.” I shook him off. The man let out a long whistle. “Feisty one, eh? Don’t you worry, I have a market for that. Some of my clients are masochists, swear on the Maker.” He laughed, rasping.

Clients? “What, are you trying to selling me?” I hissed.

“Finally figuring that one out, huh? Gero did a fine job luring you in. Didn’t think he had the charm in him, but miracles happen I suppose. The last time he...”

I took my chance, sending my knee into his groin. He cried out and as he doubled over I pulled him down, sprawling him on the floor. Leaping, I ran out the doorway and into a hallway. I rushed into what looked like a main control room. This wasn’t a ship, but a base. On the small side from what I could gather. Maybe there was a comm link in here I could use to call for help.

“Not so fast.” I slowly spun around. Three men stood there, blasters pointed at me. The one from the pub, Gero, was on the left, eyes lit up like firecrackers.

“Fuck you,” I sneered at him.

He grinned. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” The other men snickered.

I was outarmed and cornered. A pit rooted itself in my stomach as they roughly dragged me back to the cell. This was actually happening.

They pushed me back into the cramped, dark space. I turned around to see the first man, the captain I assumed, looming in the doorway. Delightfully, his nose was bleeding. His expression, though, was treacherous. He slapped me across the face, hard, and I fell cursing. I crawled away, leaning back as he pulled out a knife from his belt. He turned the blade back and forth, looking at it.

“I got a mighty big payload waiting for you. Good buyers. Wealthy buyers. These types of people don’t like their pretty prizes with scars on them. Don’t treat them well. We don’t want that now, do we?”

I stared at the knife. Everything in me screamed to fight back, but I was pinned. I shook my head no.

“Good girl. You’ll learn in time. For now though, I’m afraid we’re going to have to make some adjustments.”

The other men came into the room. One roughly pulled my hands behind my back and cuffed them. The other tied a cloth around my mouth and neck, forcing it on my tongue. I gagged and he laughed. “They’ll be here in the morning,” he said as they left the cell. “Pull anything before then and I promise you won’t be untouched.”

The door closed with a slam. I shuddered as I backed up against the wall. My eyes grew hot as tears threatened to spill over and I squinted.

What the hell was I going to do? Try to escape again? Get myself killed, or worse, in servitude to some buyer?

I leaned back, closing my eyes, begging for my mind to go blank to offer some clarity, or an idea. Nothing came. My arms were growing too stiff for me to focus. Minutes blended into hours.

Out of the silence, I heard a distant crash. And...blaster fire? What was happening? I sat up, suddenly alert. I heard the men yelling. More fire, then two thuds. Heavy steps. A shadow appeared in the crack of light under the door.

He’s decided to kill me. I swallowed hard and pushed myself as far back as possible against the wall. The door swung open.

It was not the captain.

If you had given me twenty, no fifty guesses as to who, or what, would be standing there I wouldn’t have even been close.

I was looking straight into the visor of a Mandalorian.

——

Posting every other day through 4/15

[raiii-bee]

Wanted to mess with charcoals again, so here's a little Hal and Sunny based on a memory I have of my own dad.

[unknownperson246]

Motley Crue

I had no idea these were some of the things Motley Liked

[piratefishmama]

Steddie's daughter packing a couple of her barbies into Eddie's luggage one time just before he was set to go on a short tour because she didn't want him to feel lonely while away from home

and so Eddie sends Steve pictures like this captioned "we gettin craaaaaaaazy in the bus tonight!"

[arc-hus]

Two Face House, Gürleyik, Turkey - SO?

[evillillad]

OOOOOOO theyre so annoying lmao (i love them so much)