#she took em cannons

[scythiesscienceshoe]

Glacial Outpost - Battle at the Front Lines

[rs-hawk]

I don't think i can explain to you the near-boundless giddy excitement I got form seeing EJ on that creeptober list of yours. (If it's not obvious, he might just be my favourite, snort) Looking forward to all of em tho ~!!

He’s GREAT. I used to have so many head cannons about him since so little is actually known. This story is actually based off my hc about his origin. I hope you enjoy!

Creeptober: Day Three

Eyeless Jack’s Obsession

Yandere! Eyeless Jack x AFAB Reader

CW: horror themes, stalking, blood, pain, death (not of reader), hypnosis, breeding, etc

Eyeless Jack was once an ordinary spirit. He lived his afterlife the way most spirits do. Bored and alone. However, that all changed when you bought the mansion in which he resided.

You moved in without ever seeing the place in person, which you soon regretted. The entire place gave you a creepy vibe that made the pit of your stomach twist into knots. At all times it felt like something was watching you. Stalking you. Filling every room with its presence.

And he was. Jack was following you no matter where you went in the house. It was like you were a drug and he was an addict. Being around you made him feel almost alive again. And the more alive he felt, the more he could interact with the physical world.

Soon he was moving things. Taking things from you. You noticed but kept trying to brush it off. You hoped thought that you were going a little crazy. After all, you worked a remote job and lived in this big creepy house all by yourself. You were supposed to fix it up and sell it for your aunt, who hadn’t lived here in decades, but it was hard. Even with the money she gave you, you struggled to make up the remainder.

Eventually though, you did, and construction started. You still lived in the loft like area that was once an attic while the crews worked downstairs. Unfortunately for the construction workers you hired, Eyeless Jack wasn’t as enthused with the intrusion into your space as you were.

On the very first day, a ladder fell over, nearly killing one of the roofers. He was fine, but he refused to return as he said he was pushed. The next time a ladder fell, a few days later, someone did die.

You heard the screaming and the sound of a body hitting the concrete. It took you a few minutes to rush downstairs. Terror filling your body. Did someone really just die on your aunt’s property? Holy fuck. How would you be able to keep living here? That poor man and his family.

While you were panicked, Jack was ecstatic. He hoped now you would send all these other people away so it could just be the two of you again. All he wanted was to be able to have you all to himself again. As he watched you panic, and the other workers calling the cops or trying to scrape their dead friend’s body off the concrete, he realized that he had blood on his hands.

For a few moments, he just stared at it. Vague memories of being alive and kicking blood from a cut on his finger drifted through his mind, but nothing solid. It was too long ago. Too hard to remember. Yet, his tongue darted out to flick across his palm.

The blood in his mouth solidified some of the memories, and made him feel almost alive. In a frenzy, he licked the blood from both of his hands, the coppery and metallic taste filling his mouth. His eyes glazed over and all he could think of was getting more blood. How much could he touch then? Could he touch you?

The next few days were a blur for you as you worked with the company and your home owners insurance to work out the logistics of the worker’s accident. Everyone saw that he just fell. The ladder was properly secured. No one was messing with it. He was acting responsibly. He wasn’t impaired or intoxicated. It was a freak accident.

But you knew. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew. It was because of that disturbing presence in the house.

You decided that you wanted the renovations done as quickly as possible, so after getting some of your money back from the previous company, you hired another. And another. And another. Every time, someone died. It was horrifying. One man came to your house just to survey the land and came across a missing roofer. He looked like he had been ripped open with a man’s bear hands, and, to both your and the surveyer’s horror, all of his organs were missing.

That night you called your aunt and told her that you were done. In the morning, you were leaving. She didn’t even try to protest after you told her everything that had happened. Jack, having over heard your conversation, was furious. He couldn’t lose you.

Over the past few months, he had undergone a transformation. Every bit of human flesh he consumed made him more solidified. More tangible. More alive. However, his face has become mutated and disturbing. Where his eyes once were, were just empty chasms, dripping black blood. His skin turned to a disturbing shade of ashy gray. So, to prevent your terror as much as he could, he carved a mask out of a piece what used to be a blue shelf. Now there was no reason for you to rebuff his affection.

When he made his way up to your room, you were on your laptop. In seconds, he tossed it from your lap, and your phone was pushed off the bed. He was on his knees on the foot of the bed, leaning over you, caging you in with his arms.

A scream welled up in your throat as the black holes bore into your eyes, but a muttering voice soothed the fear away. Your brain turned fuzzy. It was like you couldn’t think for yourself. He tilted his head, which you mimicked.

“A pretty puppet,” he purred, stroking the side of your face with one of his hands.

You couldn’t think of anything. It was like his eyes had drawn every thought or ounce of individualism from your skull. When he told you to take off your clothes, you did. When he told you to lay down, you did. You couldn’t see his mouth, and his voice seemed to come from everywhere, but you knew that it was him talking.

“Make sure your pussy is good and wet for me,” he instructed, and you obliged.

You began to finger yourself, using your other hand to play with your clit. The soft whimpers and moans that escaped your lips had him gritting his teeth behind his mask. He wanted to take you so badly, but he also wanted it to be perfect for you. His little morsel. He wanted to be apart of you. For you to be apart of him. Forever.

Once your juices began to drip onto your sheets, he finally cooed at you to stop. You did. Despite the frustration and throbbing of your pussy. He was still caging you in with his arms, his form nearly engulfing you. After a moment of watching you squirm, your neglected cunt clenching around nothing, he eased back. Unzipping his pants, and pulling down his boxers, his hard and throbbing cock was shown to you.

Once his hypnotic gaze was broken, your mind began to flood back to you, and the sight of something so massive made you try to scamper back on the bed. However, your loving Eyeless Jack realized that his hold had been broken and grabbed your face, forcing your gazes to lock. Once again, anything in your mind seemed to melt away.

“Spread your legs,” he instructed. And you did.

He slowly slid inside of you, watching your face intensely as it contorted in pain and pleasure. He stretched you out to the point that you felt like you’d burst. Your walls were still throbbing with need, forcing you to clench around him. Clearly to his immense pleasure.

“There we go. Mine. So good for me,” he moaned as he finally sank his cock deep inside of you, his eyes flickering away from your face for just a moment to see how your stomach extended from his cock.

When his gaze returned to you, he saw tears in the corner of your eyes. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to me, won’t you?” he promised, cupping your cheek almost tenderly again. You nodded obediently.

He was only slow for a few thrusts before losing what little of his kind remained. It was clear he wanted to care about your pleasure, but the decades of death and isolation left him desperate for the comfort and warmth your pussy brought him. The tip of his cock slammed against your cervix repeatedly, making you wince. He muttered out apologies, but never stopped. Never slowed down.

His cock ripped you slightly, blood beading along your tender lips. He muttered out another apology about how he’d make it up to you, and all you could do was whisper out an “okay”. It took hours for him to finish, and when he did, he slammed himself deeply inside of you, his cum pumping directly into your womb.

“There we are. Now I’ll always be apart of you,” he smiled, pulling up his mask to press a kiss to your forehead before disappearing.

As your mind came back to you, you winced at the pain, but wondered with a twisted hunger if he would come back for you.

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[ilovehugslikealotalot]

Caught in Your Focus

sum: Emily Prentiss, one of the most famous photographers comes to Iverson University, home to the NCAA’s pride and joy, Y/n Y/l/n. What was supposed to be a 2 month long documentary turned into a scandalous affair.

(not proof read)

WARNING: jealous!emily, photographer!emily, D1 volleyball Player!reader, cheating, cannon!jemily, athlete injury, slight angst, age gap, a tad of smut (ik im feeding you guys finally)

The smack of volleyball’s hitting the court never got old, after hearing it for almost all of her life it felt like home. The court was her therapy, her escape from reality. Her whole life that’s all that she wanted to do, be a volleyball Player, and that’s what she got and more. She was considered one of the best Libero’s in the nation and still people expected more from her.

But, she couldn’t cared about that now, not when the best photographer in the world is infront of her. On her knees for that matter.

“Em, faster” y/n groaned, gripping onto the sink in the bathroom. Her knees seemed to buckle as Emily lapped at her like it was the last thing she’s taste. The photographer slapped her thigh, “what did I say, baby?” She half groaned, only burning her face deeper in y/n.

A knock was heard from the door and one of y/n’s teamates voices called out, “N/n? It’s almost game time, we have to warm up!” Nicole yelled, y/n could barely speak without moaning so she prayed that her voice wouldn’t betray her.

“I’ll- be right out!” She squeaked out, as she put her hands on Emily’s shoulder’s bringing her closer, chasing her high. “nuh-uh, sweet girl, you’ll get your reward later,” she smirked, rising to her feet and fluffing out her curls. Y/n whined, pulling up her sweat pants. She looked as if she’s already played the game.

“Fine..” she grumbled, hugging Emily from behind. “Y’know, if JJ finds out, we’ll both be in trouble” Y/n chuckled, looking at the sparkling rock on Emily’s finger. The guilt ate away at her, but she needed Emily so bad that at this point she didn’t care who got hurt. “Hey…she’s not gonna find out,” Emily cooed, turning around to hug the younger woman, “If she does then, we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry your pretty head about it, focus on your game.” She assured, pecking her forehead sweetly, and giving her a few more kisses on her face careful not to leave a stain. It would be quite the story to tell if y/n had a lipstick stain on the semi-final championship game. “Now go, before your team wonders where you are”

Y/n nodded, reluctantly leaving, she never loved anything more than her sport, but if she ever needed to she’d quit in a second to be with Emily. This woman had affected her life in so many ways that it made her head spin, what made the whole affair scandalous is that Emily was married, to Jennifer Jareau no less. Y’know, she’s only one of the biggest movie stars on earth.

Emily stood in her bathroom fixing her makeup and clothes, she held her letterman jacket close to her. It had the University colors on it with y/n’s last name and jersey number on the back. It looked good on her, she knew that her marriage had been in shambles so y/n had been her way out. She had no plans of falling back in love with someone but the bright woman had changed them. “Prentiss! The game is starting in 30, we need you!” One of her colleague’s, Tara Lewis, called from outside the door. “Coming!” She replied, opening the door with a smile, Tara had filled her in on what type of shots they’d be needing, and told her about the magazine spread that she needed to shoot with y/n. Emily mentally took notes as her and Tara’s team was already assembling equipment and trying hard not to get hit with rogue volleyballs.

————

The game was heated, with Iverson up by 5. If they managed to take another point they’d move into the next set. Y/n kept getting dig after dig and was beggining to get tired. It wasn’t until the Outside Hitter had hit the ball over. It was so fast that Diana, the Leftback DS couldn’t get to it in time and shanked it. Y/n ran as fast as she could, her lungs screaming for air. She manage to pass it in, which made the crowd burst into a rapturous applause. But that was cut short when, y/n slipped and fell over some tables, her ankle twisting.

She wanted to get back up, she really did. But the pain shot through her and she screamed in pain. Her teammates didn’t notice that she wasn’t back and made the point cheering in Victory until they realized why the audience had gotten to quiet.

They all gasped, seeing the medics rush over to Y/n, her hands on her face as she wished every camera and person would just go away. They propped up her ankle and people began to murmur and worriedly converse amoungst themselves.

“Hey, y/n, come on, breathe, you’ll be just fine” Coach Oaklyn said, consulting with the medics and worriedly asking if it’ll be fine if she continue playing.

Emily was in the crowd, she watched the whole thing happen and she couldn’t help but felt her heart drop, leaving JJ in the stands calling out to her, she raced down the stairs and onto the court pushing past the security. They yelled at her to freeze but she didn’t listen. The press is sure gonna have a field day, she didn’t even care that they were broadcasting live.

****

“It looks as if Y/n Y/l/n has been injured, medics are consulting with Coach Oaklyn to see if she’s still fit to play, we all are keeping her in our prayers.” One of the announcers, Tom, said into the microphone.

“Yes, everyone is wondering if the all-star athlete, y/n y/l/n is okay. Right now, we are all praying that she is safe.” The other announcer, Beca agreed, some commotion began to happen and people began cursing as someone ran through the Stadium. “Folks, we are sorry for the Fruity language, but it seems as though world renowned photographer, Emily Prentiss is running through the Stadium like her life depends on it.” Beca continued, looking at the scene, Tom tried to understand what was happening and it wasn’t until she pushed through security that they realized. “Oh, looks like we have a photographer gone rogue, Prentiss has just pushed through security and headed straight for…y/l/n!” He smiled, impressed with her determination.

“Tom, to me it kinda seems like they’re more than just friends, but she just pushed passes those muscular guys like it was nothing!”

****

“Hey, she’s fine!” Oaklyn screamed at the security, as Emily went beside y/n, “Are you okay?” Emily panicked, holding her face, “Em…it hurts, I- can’t-” she gasped, unable to catch her breath the loud voices and screaming seemed to Echo and get 10x louder than they were. She covered her ears and whined, “It’s okay, sweet girl, I’m here, you’ll be alright.” Emily comforted, holding her close, the medic informed all of them that y/n to make it to the bench for them to wrap it.

“No, no, please, I can’t- It’s too hard“ she begged, looking at her coach for support on it. But Emily refused to let her give up on herself. “Y/n, look at me, I know it hurts so bad, but you have to fight, there’s a reason they call you the best, are you really gonna let those stupid girls beat you at your game?” She stated sternly, y/n shook her head ‘no’. “That’s what I thought, c’mon, let’s get up” Emily gave her a hand and assisted her to the bench. She had a grade one sprain that was pretty bad but not so much where she had to sit out for too long. She would surely have quite a few bruises, and her arm was a little cut up from getting caught into table,

“Y/n, if you play this, you might not be able to play for the rest of the season” Oaklyn tried reasoning with y/n, only to be met with a hand. “Then let this be my last game”

She walked onto the court with a limp and got onto position, Oaklyn sighed, giving Emily a shrug of defeat, y/n could be really stubborn when she wanted to be.

———

The game ended with Iverson winning, rightfully so. Y/n collapse onto a seat and whimpered, her ankle killing her. The medics gave her another check up and said that not much more damage had been done and told her that around 5 weeks of rest.

Y/n sighed, it wasn’t that much time, plus the March tournament wasn’t for another 3 months due to Basketball. As they all left, y/n saw Emily and Jennifer talking they seemed happy. It made the younger woman a little jealous at the fact Jennifer could make Emily laugh like that, even if they were married. Emily was y/n’s.

“Hey, y/n, you okay?” Nicole asked, placing a hand on y/n’s thigh, it broke her out of all her thoughts and she shifted her focus. “Yeah, I’m just scared, y’know. There was so many things that could’ve gone wrong, Thank the Lord that it was only a small sprain” she chuckled, Nicole laughed with her, “Well, if you ever need anything you know I’m always here for you”

ahem.

Both women looked up to see Emily with her arms crossed, her face was clearly jealous. “Well, I need to take this one home now, have a good evening, Nicole” The older woman said hurriedly, grabbing her arm and helping her out. Once in the parking lot, y/n huffed, feeling the comfort of Emily’s jeep. The silence gave you peace, but Emily not so much. You knew her by now, and she was pissed for what ever reason.

”I saw you talking to JJ, you two seemed quite happy” Y/n said, no idea what she was trying to say. “Yeah, because we’re getting a divorce” she deadpanned, never once looking over at y/n. “Oh…I’m sorry” Y/n frowned, lowering her gaze to her lap.

Emily and JJ were once happy, but that isn’t the case anymore, not after Will LaMontagne entered her life. They’d been seeing eachother on the side for months, what was the point of marriage then?

“It’s okay, really, it was a mutual agreement.” She said, placing a hand in her thigh, “She found out, about you, I mean” Emily smiled, the car stopping slowly as she pulled into y/n’s drive way.

“Was she mad..?” Y/n murmured, looking up with a slight sniffle. “No, baby, she was happy, actually, she said that she always knew that from the moment she met you…I guess we weren’t so sneaky”

The silence wasn’t awkward, it was awfully comfortable, it scared the volleyball player. Her whole life the screeching and screaming on courts and audiences was the norm, she didn’t have too much silence in her life. It was her last year playing at the collegiate level, she didn’t know what to do after this, she was pursuing a Career in arts so maybe something like that. She’d never been on a path she was really sure on. Volleyball was her life and now that it was almost over, she was lost. “We’ll figure it out. together.”

——————

Anyways, this was in my drafts a for a long while 🥲

There was a part two but I’ll have to hunt for that

@mxmmyprentiss

[sonic-au-collision]

SONIC AU COLLISION: ROUND 2

click to see full image

Sidekick Sonic AU belongs to @raihanijulie [link to au tag]

Inkwell AU belongs to @xx-disco-inferno-xx [link to info & character design]

Explore each world below the cut!

Sidekick Sonic AU:

Sonic is an existing figure, inspiration to everyone. His positive personalities and energy inspire everyone to keep moving forward!

SO WHAT IF Sonic is 'kinda' an imaginary friend that lives inside everyone's heart and is always there to boost/support his friends n companies to pursue their dreams!!! Sonic will always be viewed differently in ppl's prespectives, its all based on the person's mind, feelings, and purpose in life.

Happens mostly whenever they're feeling down and losing hope in anything. To prevent all that, of course, the hero, Sonic comes to your life to keep your spirit up!! Those Sonics will appear beside you as you're feeling down... or they can actually pop up whenever you need em and then disappear again (nono, he didnt fully gone. He just poofed but he is still within yall's heart and mind)! Again, he is your trusty sidekick, hehe. Other people can also see your Sonic, as you can see theirs too! Its always good to build new connections.

*basically PJSK and Fairly God Parents inspired HEHE

Inkwell AU:

Shadow was created in the Sonic universe equivalent of the 30s after a deal Gerald made with Black Doom. In exchange for only an explanation of what he was doing (he pinkie promised), Black Doom offered to help with Gerald's development of the bioweapon GUN had commissioned him to create.

Gerald had made several cartoon drawings of a Mobian hedgehog to cheer up his granddaughter, Maria, since she was confined to her room due to a severe immune deficiency. These doodles caught Black Doom's eye, and he brought one to life, creating Shadow, a living toon made out of ink, and completing Gerald's project.

He eventually found out that it was impossible for Shadow to host bacterial or viral life, while the toon befriended Maria by slipping under her door to visit her, and took a little bit of Shadow's ink to study it as a possible cure for her disease. GUN found out about this theft and raided Gerald's work, killing everyone there and sealing Shadow in an ink jar to be put in storage.

70 years later, Dr Eggman finds Shadow and releases him, triggering events similar to SA2. Instead of using the ARK, though (since it doesn't exist), Shadow simply threatens to turn off the sun (toon abilities), and breaks the moon in half as a display of power rather than it being blown in two by the Eclipse Cannon. The only reason his redemption was possible was because he has a theatric streak a mile wide, giving Team Sonic the chance to get through to him.

Black Doom is revealed to have been the one who messed with Shadow's memories in hopes of him destroying the Earth, and since that didn't work out, he just came back with the Black Comet to do it himself. Super Sonic and Super Shadow work together to defeat Black Doom and destroy the Black Comet (instead of Final Hazard), and Shadow turns into a pile of ashes upon reentry into the atmosphere, seemingly dying.

(Spoiler alert: he didn't.)

Dr Eggman eventually finds him as a puddle of ink and has him redrawn, bringing him back to life, but without a lot of his memories.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Letters Unsung ~ Arthur Shelby x Fiancee!Reader

Summary: Since the very beginning of the First World War, Arthur’s Fiancee managed to get an unpaid job at UK’s radio station podcast so that she may daily speak a few encouraging words for the soldiers, and in turn, to her beloved Arthur Shelby.

“Must you really go, my darling?” Arthur heard the love of his life plead for him in such a sweet, mellow voice; If only he could, he would throw away his family, his country and everything to ever exist, just to find a safe place to hide with his darling Y/N. Alas, in a mondial war involving every country known to mankind, there was no place to hide. 

Fear and anxiety wasn’t a world in which he wanted Y/N to live in. She was too good for this dark, bleak world; Even as cannon fodder, if he could benefit the war and keep the country safe - Keep Y/N safe - he would gladly go.

“Mighty sorry, my love, but y’know better than I do that I gotta. Old enough to be in my damn prime - ‘Em muscles hadn’t built by ‘emselves, y’know? You always said I looked damn fine all naked - Well, Gov’s thinkin’ the same. Strong ‘nuff to carry a gun, strong ‘nuff to die for ‘em.” he rambled idly, lighting up a cigarette, puffing in the air, then squishing it in the ash tray. Y/N hated smoking. She always said she wouldn’t kiss him if his breath stank like tar. “Tommy ‘n’ John... They’re both so young. Can’t have ‘em go die without their old bro trying to protect ‘em.” he looked at his girl - She was trying so hard not to break down into sobs again. For the past days she’d been crying non-stop. She was unconsolable, and not even he could comfort her - Hell, he was terrified out of his mind, the thought of never seeing her again was killing him... “C’mon, doll, you’re too pretty to cry so much. Save ‘em tear for when i get back home, and you jump in my arms, and I twirl you around like the pretty angel you are.”

“B-But... Artie...” her words were stammered and hardly comprehensible; All she did was cuddle into his side and cry. If only she could water the plants with that wasted water, Polly said at some point, yet she was just as terrified for her children as Y/N was. John was barely 18, there was no way he’d make it through! “I can’t live without you. There is no life without you. I’ll die without you!” 

“Aww, darlin’...” she was so loving and genuine... What the hell was he supposed to do; He will be crying himself to sleep every night in the field, thinking that he left her all alone. “My sweet angel.” he held her tightly, stroking her hair and kissing her. “You’re my most precious treasure, Y/N. For you, I’ll do anything in my power to get back as fast as possible and wife you. We’ll have a pretty garden wedding - In Spring, with the pretty flowers - You always told me how you like ‘em pretty flowers. Heard there’s this place with a... A gazebo, next to this forest out of Birmingham; Ain’t no way Imma have you be a pretty bride in this grey shit hole of a city.”

“Promise you’ll come back to me?” Arthur gingerly took her hand and kissed her fingers.

“I promise on this ring that I gotchu that I’ll be back to keep my vows to you.”

The next morning, Y/N was robbed of a final goodbye, though it was more of a blessing in disguise than anything. Arthur spared her the despair she’d have had to endure, seeing him board that freaking train and leave the station, like lamb to the slaughter. By the time Y/N had woken up, Polly and Ada were around her. Polly had suggested the eldest Shelby brother that Y/N was too emotionally devastated and would be unable to go through that experience - Hence why she came up with the idea of placing a few sedatives in her sweet calming tea, which ensured a long and peaceful sleep.

Y/N was completely lost - Without Arthur, she had no idea what to do with her life; She couldn’t grieve and cry 24/7, that was unnatural, and her fiance wouldn’t want that of her, surely. She would have gladly enrolled as a nurse on the field, but not only did Arthur completely forbid her to do such a feat, she was also denied by the military - She was a certified doctress, she couldn’t be a combat doctor with no military training - Thus, she kept her work as a doctor in the Birmingham hospital.

Many months on end passed, and many more letters she sent, but received none. The radio was on, awaiting the war broadcast and praying that she wouldn’t hear the name of “Shelby” ever, until the war was over. Still, listening to the radio wasn’t enough. Anxiously awaiting for the police to come to her doorstep to tell her Arthur died, also, wasn’t good. Sure, she had Polly and Ada by her side, and she was always busy at work treating people, prepping for surgeries...

There had to be something she could do. Something that would benefit the people remaining in the country to defend the land... Something to sooth the soldiers facing the death door every second, awake and asleep.

And she had just the idea, the money, and the influence.

Y/N walked right through the doors of the radio station and explained to the chief her idea; Surely everyone knew how beneficial battlefield morale was for the troops - Hearing good words from home was sure to up their battle prowess tenfold. The old man himself had three sons send to France, of course he knew better than anyone how none of his wife’s letters reached them. Hell, he had no idea if either of them was still alive after four months out there.

And thus, the very first podcast was recorded, live, in the studio. Y/N’s voice was wavery and uncertain - She was awful at social interactions, hence why she clinged so much to Arthur and sought his comfort. Still, he was out there, bravely fighting to protect her - The least she could do was to speak a few words into a microphone.

“Good afternoon, brave soldiers. I am Y/N Shelby speaking, for the ‘Echoes of Hope’ broadcast.” what was she supposed to do now? The people were listening to her! “We have come up with this idea of creating a podcast to speak more directly to you - Only God knows if any of the thousands of letters sent have been received by you - So, a more direct approach had to be taken.” she took a deep breath to muster some strength. Think of Arthur and the soldiers. “I am speaking from the heart of Birmingham, sending warmth and courage across the airwaves, hoping it would reach at least one of you, brave men, fighting to protect your families and home.” she licked her lips, forcing herself to continue speaking. “Today, and tomorrow, and in every day that keeps us apart, as you brave the frontlines, know that we, back home, hold you in our thoughts and prayers.” a stray tear found itself caressing her soft cheek where one was held by Arthur’s rough hand. “And... To my beloved Artie... If you can hear me, know that each word I speak carries a piece of my heart. Stay strong, my love, for your strength is our beacon of hope in this colourless place.”

As she turned off the broadcast button, she took off the headset and stepped away from the microphone. The old man stepped in front of her and patted her hair, seeing the girl cry.

“Oh, I messed up big time! Forgive me, I completely ruined this thing... Oh, I am awful, awful at speaking to people! I-I thought that, without a person in front of me, it would be easier -- But I messed it up so badly!” the poor girl whined, though comforted by the man.

“I wouldn’t say you butchered it, love, I’d say the people out there fighting for our homeland just heard the voice of all of us, fighting our own battles yet staying strong to support and cheer on them also.” he patted her shoulders to straighten up. “Life is difficult with this poverty, yet we make meets end and figure things out so that we can welcome them back in a safe home that lack nothing. Lord knows, they will need all the comfort and support they can get, poor children... If only I wasn’t so old and a cripple, I would be out there to protect my boys.” the old man shed a tear. “Y/N, come back tomorrow at the same time and continue speaking to them. Only they know, your voice might just be their salvation.”

And thus became the routine of Y/N Shelby, every day in the evening after her hospital shift was over, she would pass by the radio station and begin speaking her heart out for the soldiers spread throughout Lord knows how many countries.

“Good evening once again to the brave men fighting for our home. It is Y/N Shelby again, and I bring you words of encouragement from the women of England.” this time, she was smiling; She looked at the old man next to her and felt enboldened to continue. “Each day we await your safe and hasteful return, and each night we whisper our hopes into the silence, hoping that our prays will protect you.” she really should write a script instead of free-styling it. “Arthur, my dearest, your courage inspires me. Remember, as you face the trials of war, that our love is your shield, and my voice is your guide back home. Please, never lose track of your path back into my arms.”

The old man smiled, moved by the girl’s words, and encouraged her to come the next day also; It was bound to create a routine for all the soldiers to listen to the prayers and words of courage and morale from the Angel of Birmingham.

“Hello, everyone - I assume you can recognise my voice by now.” she sounded much giddier than usual. “I am overjoyed to say that, after 11 months, I have finally received a letter from my beloved Artie!” she chimed, trying to keep composed. “He told me in the sweetest words how much he loves me - And how he wants us to have the prettiest wedding ever; In Spring, and filled with flowers, just how I love it.” she continued, overjoyed. “These words of love - All of Arthur’s feelings for me - I know each and every one of you feels the same for the loved ones waiting impatiently for you at home; So, for once, I will transmit your words to those waiting for you here, in Britain.” she cleared her throat. “For every mother, father, aunt and uncle, brother or sister... For grandparents, children, wives and husbands and friends also - For every living being here, in Britain, waiting for your beloved to return home, safe and sound - Just know that your letters have been received, and so have all of your love and good intentions. They are thinking of you, the very same way - So keep on hoping and praying, and know they are heard and working. Your loved ones need it.”

A whole year passed, and many more were going to follow; Emboldened by the fantastic idea of the podcast, more and more women, children and elderly decided to join the production, each of them passing along their message to those on the battlefield, read live by Y/N.

“As the war rages on, it becomes harder to find the right words. I have come to speak to you every day, for a year and a half - And I dearly hope none of you have gotten bored of my voice yet.” she chuckled softly. “I know that you, Arthur, and all the soldiers, need to hear that we believe in you. You are not forgotten, not for a moment.” she went on. “My dearest Arthur, hold on to our memories, for they are the thread that will guide you back to me. England’s women stand with you, every step of the way.” she took one letter in her hand. “But today it’s not only about you and how much I love you, Artie. From today on, I am going to read for you the letters that may have never been received by you.” she cleared her throat. “This letter is written by young Jimmy, a charming 5 year old lad who wants to write to his grandpa, Captain Andrew Brown. < Dear Grandpa Andy, mommy taught me how to write, and I wanted you to be the first to see me writing. I never met my daddy, but for me, you are my daddy. I hope you return home soon; I want to play horsie again - And you promised to teach me how to play football when I grow old. I’m a big boy now, I help mommy carry yucky veggies at home - And I eat everything from my plate. Mommy said you’ll come home faster if I study well and get good grades, so I’ll do my best! I love you, papi! > “

The old man was moved to tears; He was imagining his own grandson crying for him. A single mother, whose only support is an old man gone to war. Life truly was unfair.  In spite of that, the letters read on the podcast began rapidly to gain traction; Every person out there had something to say to someone on the battlefield.

“Today, the news brought a glimmer of hope. Arthur, your bravery has not gone unnoticed. I heard of your close call, and my heart ached with fear and relief. You  are my hero, and I send you all my love and strength. To all soldiers, know that each of you is a hero in someone’s heart. Hold fast, for victory is within sight.” she held a letter in her hand, ready to read it. “This time, we have a letter from Mr. Daniel Masters, wanting to share his wholesome words with his wife, Mrs. Angela Masters, who selflessly volunteered as a nurse on the battlefield, and was deployed in Verdun.” she began reading the letter. “ < My darling Angie, you are an angel on this earth. Not only did you volunteer to go out there, in the middle of the war, to save me, a useless cripple, from dying there, but you are saving other men with your fantastic knowledge and skills in medicine. I and my sister are working hard so that when you return, we can have the wedding of your dreams. And don’t worry about little Susie, she’s in perfect health and asking about her mommy every day. She started braiding her hair like you, saying she wants to be pretty like mommy - And what do you know, she found your stack of medicine books under the bed and began asking me to explain those long words - I have no idea what those words mean, I can’t even pronounce them. I hope you’ll come home soon, my angel. We miss you very much, and we love you endlessly. > “

Thus four years passed, day after day, with Y/N passing on the words of Britain, yearning for Her children to return home. At some point, even Ada sent a message for Freddy, reminding him of their childhood love - And Polly wanted to tell the brothers that they have to be strong and return back no matter what.

Finally, it was the fated day - The Government announced the soldiers of Birmingham arriving by train, at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. The station was a sea of anticipation and anxiety, filled to the brim, overcrowded by people of all kinds and ages. Y/N stood amidst the crowd, her heart pounding as she scanned the faces, hoping to catch a glimpse of Arthur. The air was filled with the sounds of families reuniting, joyful cries mingling with the tears of those who had waited so long for this moment.

Children clung to their mothers yelling a collective ‘Daddy’, elderly parents searched for their sons, and wives stood on tiptoes, straining to see over the throng of people. Y/N felt a mix of hope and fear, her eyes darting from one soldier to another, desperately searching for the one face she longed to see. The same uniforms everywhere, but no sign of her beloved.

As more soldiers stepped off the train, the crowd surged forward, and Y/N was jostled, her view obscured by the pressing bodies. Panic began to set in. What if Arthur wasn't on this train? What if something had happened in the final days? Her heart raced, and she felt a lump forming in her throat. She didn’t want the only keepsakes to be the letters he sent her during war; That makes for a most tragic memento.

"Artie!" she called out, her voice lost in the cacophony of the station. “Artie, angel, where are you?!” she continued shouting, but her soft voice was drowned out by the other people calling for their loved ones.

Minutes felt like hours as she stood there, her eyes scanning the thinning crowd. She felt lost, a wave of despair washing over her as the platform began to empty. Just as she was about to break down, fall on her knees and succumb to her grief, a figure appeared through the remaining haze of steam and people.

Arthur.

He was thinner than she remembered, his face gaunt and eyes hollowed by the horrors of war. His disheveled uniform hung loosely on his frame, and he moved with a weary slowness. But when his eyes met hers, a spark of recognition and relief lit up his face.

"Y/N." he breathed, his voice hoarse and tired.

At first, her mind blanked, and her legs became jelly, shaking like two flowers in the wind - It took Arthur smiling and calling her name again, to regain autonomy over her body. She ran to him, tears streaming down her face as she threw her arms around him. The world seemed to stop as they held each other, the pain of their long separation melting away in the warmth of their embrace. Arthur clung to her as if she were the lifeline that had pulled him through the darkest days - And just as promised, he twirled her around. Y/N, his angel, was back where she had to be - In his arms.

"You came back." she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “You really, really came back. You’re here, in the flesh, alive and breathing, and living -- I’m not dreaming, I’m not imagining - I’m not dead, am I?” she pulled back, cupping his face and looking him in those gorgeous doe-eyes of his. So gentle and so loving. “You are real, aren’t you? You came back to me.”

"I promised you, didn't I?" he replied, a faint smile touching his lips despite the exhaustion etched into his features. “I promised I’d come back and marry you. No man would be crazy enough not to return home to an angel like you.”

They stood there for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the noise and chaos of the station fading into the background. Arthur was home, and that was all that mattered. It wasn’t sure whether it was Y/N comforting Arthur after 4 years of horror experienced, or Arthur was pacifying his poor cry-baby darling; Yet one thing was sure - They were where they were supposed to be.

"I'm so proud of you." Y/N said softly, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes, before peppering him with kisses all over his face. "You made it through, Arthur. You're here. My hero. You are my hero, Artie. Our hero. You saved us."

He nodded, his gaze steady but shadowed by the memories of what he'd endured. "It's over now. No more about what happened - I don’t wanna hear about it anymore.” he shook his head, holding onto her tightly. “I am home."

As they walked away from the station, hand in hand, Y/N felt a sense of peace settling over her, yet she was still shaken - She was clinging onto her beloved like a baby koala, afraid of losing him, like an oasis mirage. They had both been through so much, but now they could face the future together. The road ahead would not be easy, but with Arthur by her side, she knew they could overcome anything.

The war had taken its toll on them, but their love had endured. The Shelby family was entirely reunited, and trying to heal from the festering wounds created by the four year massacre. Life will never be the same, but they had to learn how to live again, and adjust to a whole new world that was in constant development - A fast world that was waiting for no one, especially not for veterans and their grief.

Each member of the family was affected differently; John became rebellious, Ada was going through a desperate need for affection from Freddy, Polly became dissolute and cynical, Tommy was no longer the adventurous young man who was Y/N’s partner in crime, but a most apathetic and lethargic man, Arthur became aggressively violent and would lose his mind every time he heard a loud noise resembling guns or bombs, and Y/N had to learn how to stop her nightmares and live without worrying her husband would disappear and it would all just be a delusion.

Either way, only one thing mattered for Y/N.

Arthur was home.

[skelliko]

Tokyo revengers |°- random head cannons that I had stored

๑ Hanma ironically and out of nowhere 'sang' twist by Korn next to kisaki to get his reaction which caused kisaki to immediately whip his head over at the doofus with genuine fear in his eyes, he took a step backwards from Hanna, hands up and everything. but after a few seconds of staring at the 'possessed' specimen he just annoyingly does a "what the fuck is wrong with you..."

๑ ran doesn't crack his bones/knuckles often but if someone's around him that absolutely despises the sound of cracking bones he'd do it continuously without a care and finds major enjoyment in watching the person's face scrunch up in discomfort, sometimes he snickers too

๑ while chifuyu was in his 'major delinquent era, thinking he's better than everyone else' he was walking down the school stairs all cool and trying to be intimidating but then slipped on one of the stairs and fell on his butt. only one person saw but the amount of embarrassment he got from that when they made eye contact made him want to disappear from earth -this caused him to always be slow and actually look out for the steps so that it doesn't happen again.

๑ seishu finds it hilarious to fake a laugh at someone's awful joke for a second or two but then immediately go dead silent and just stare at the person with no seen emotion at all

๑ seishu is amazing at cooking, he's like a chef. but where'd he learn all this from? he doesn't answer, it's basically a mystery. but in his room he hides written down recipes that he copied out from books and other places

๑ when Baji was younger he decided to try and cook his own food for himself but accidently set a kitchen towel on fire by mistakingly setting it on top of the wrong oven circle -out of panic he got rid of it by quickly throwing it out the window in a panic making it land on someone's car windshield

๑ kazutora is actually quite close with Baji's mom. at some point he slipped up when calling out for her and accidentally called her 'mom' and sure enough he got embarrassed real quick and by a lot. ryoko took pride into that title tho, knowing that she mistakenly got called mom by someone else other than her own son made her feel oddly happy - although she mentioned that kazu is fine in calling her 'mom' he never did it again cause he still finds it embarrassing

๑ kazutora secretly takes photos of his friends crushes and sniggers about it while showing it to his friend. it's basically his little thing whenever he's told that someone has a crush, he doesn't do it to a big extent but just one of two pictures and it's usually just from the back or the side. he's been told multiple of times to quit and delete them but secretly they all knows he's doing them a favour cause when kazu sends them the photos they don't delete 'em

๑ peh holds grudges against people just for the sake of it, if he met someone and they had accidentally done something like step on peh's shoe then the next time they see eachother he would death stare them until they walk past and out of eye view, sometimes he just randomly feels like making enemies even despite being on 'silent and mutural' terms with someone.

๑ when akkun first had the thought of becoming a hairdresser he attempted in cutting his own hair and it actually turned out pretty good, cause of this he ended up cutting makotos hair however akkun had purposely cut his hair badly out of revenge for leaving 'filthy magazines' in akkuns room where his mom had found- making him to be unintentionally framed by makoto

๑ kisaki has a shit tone of books about manipulation and how to read people, how to carefully plot plans and use everything and anything to his own advantage even if things don't work out

๑ the reason why shion get frequent stomach aces is cause he has a bit of sweet tooth, he doesn't get hungry often so he forgets to actually eat a propper meal sometimes but when he sees something sweet and colourful he can't help but take more than a peck at it.

๑ at some point mitsuya accidentally knocked over a massive jar of beads over at the sowing club and took 2 hours collecting each one

๑ when taiju first started mending to his restaurant he had a bit of a high temper and would crack easily to his new employees if they spilled something or cut up a carrot with incorrect sizes, but after getting used to owning a business he somehow became the 'best boss' and grew to be pretty chill even if someone does a mistake - unless if it's a continuous mistake, then he'll get pissed

๑ taiju had a massive fixation with sharks and cool, colourful looking fish when he was younger. going to aquariums on a daily basis and as a kid he had collected little figurines of sharks, orcas and killer whales that he displayed. up till now he still have one of the shark toys displayed on a shelf since it was his all time favourite.

๑ yazuha hates bugs (cannon) and at some point she saw a weird looking incest in the bathroom and was begging hakkai to kill it or simply get it away for her but even he was disgusted by it so they kept on going back and forth about what to do about it before they both decided to team up and tackle it together. yazuha put a cup over it but while doing so the cup got knocked over from her shaky hands causing the both of them to scream as the bug started to move about but hakkai quickly put the cup back over it. they had to take a small breather and relax a little from the nerves before following through any more.

๑ Hina has a small collection of cute keychains, some of them are small plushies and a few are her favourite characters and others are random, small objects. she has some hanging on many different bags, her keys and a few hanging on thumb tacks that are stuck in a cork board on display

๑ Hina is really confrontational about anything that bothers her for other people's sake, in class most people try not to say anything rude about other people knowing that she'll over hear and they'll get their ear bitten off by her. cause of this she's kinda like the school hero against the bullies.

 ♡---

[nanaten]

HEYYY!! I love you art so much it’s so cute you’re def my fav earthbound artist!! I saw you liked nesspaula and I wanted to ask if you have some head cannons about them they’re my favs ship!!! Also any opinions about jefftony?? I love em>:3

HELOOOOOO !! sorry im responding to this so late, ive only just realized i had so many asks 😭😭

I do like nesspaula!! i think they’re so cute! as for headcanons, i don’t think i have many interesting ones, but i’ll give you a few little ideas i have about them!

- Ness doesn’t really understand how he feels about her for a long time. he likes her, alot, but he doesn’t really understand what that entails. like, “i like her, but what do i do with this information?”. it’s only in his mid-to-late teens he realizes that his feelings for her are something he should act upon; that he loves her, and wants to be in a relationship with her.

- when he tells her, he imagines it to be like the romance films his mom likes, but it isn’t. Paula is overjoyed, there’s no doubt about that, but the first thing she says is “Oh my god, it took you long enough!” all exasperated like, lol. it mortified ness at the time but now it’s something he tells everyone when they ask about their relationship (“Oh god, you’ll never guess how we got together— Paula said—“ “NOOOO”)

- Paula is slightly taller than him. By a few inches. You’d think that’d bother ness, but no. He loves his slightly taller wife. (they’re both regular height overall though. 5’7 and 5’9 respectively)

- Ness is really warm, and paula appreciates it. Due to her PSI, her hands are often cold and numb to the degree the tips of her fingers and blue. Thankfully Ness is a space heater, so he’ll take her hands and warm her up :]

also i like jefftony!! i think they would be very funny and chaotic. to describe their dynamic in my head it’s like this

[emnicholedavis]

Until Dawn: How they met head cannons pt. 1 - Middle School

Okay so we know how Josh and Chris met (3rd grade), but I also head canon that Emily and Jess knew each other from a young age because their moms were friends; potentially the oldest friendship in the group besides Climbing Class.

Chris met Ashley in 6th grade when he went to the library to grab a new Manga the library just received. Ash volunteered at the library. When Chris didn’t see the Manga section where it usually is, he asked the girl at the counter where it is. Ash told him that they were revamping the Manga section since it was seeing more traction and that in the meantime they kept the books behind the counter. They bonded over the new Manga and Chris started to visit the library more just to talk to Ash (they realized that they have a lot of classes together and started sitting together at lunch).

Sam and Emily met in 7th grade when Sam moved to California with her mom and little brother. They were both taking the same advanced math class and eager to make new friends, Sam introduced herself to the first person she saw in that class, Emily Davis.

Matt and Mike also met in 7th grade at football practice. They became friends but Mike realized he didn’t want to play sports and told everyone he wanted to be president one day. He still went to all of Matt’s games (especially since he got free tickets and got to hang in the locker room).

Sam and Emily met Mike in 8th grade when they were all in National Honor Society. Mike was president and offered the vice president position to Sam (he took a liking to her) but Sam offered for Emily to be his vice president because she knew Em liked him.

Part 2: High School

[cnidocyst]

franky the boat timeline

[ID: A One Piece fan comic featuring Nico Robin and Franky from the hypothetical bad timeline. Instead of dialogue, all text boxes contain lyrics to "Green Grass" by Tom Waits. In the first panel, Robin, who is now old and graying, stands alone in a cannon room inside of a ship. She is leaning against a support beam, right hand pressed against the beam while her left hangs down, holding a glass of rum and coke. Her white hair is messy and covering her eyes while she grimaces. The lyrics read: "Lay your head where my heart used to be. Hold the earth above me. Lay down in the green grass. Remember when you loved me." In the second panel, Robin somberly rests her chin on a ship's wheel, her left arm slung over the side of it. It's raining down on her, and her glass is now placed behind the wheel next to three of the ship's log pose compasses. The lyrics are: "Come closer, don't be shy. Stand beneath a rainy sky." The bottom half of the panel is divided by a stream of steam coming from the Puffing Tom as it runs along the ocean under a night sky. The lyrics are: "The moon is over the rise. Think of me as a train goes by." In the third panel, Robin is mopping the dirtied deck. The lyrics are: "Clear the thistles and brambles. Whistle 'Didn't he Ramble'". In the bottom right hand corner of the panel is a close up of the glass of rum and coke with the lyrics: "Now there's a bubble of me, and it's floating in thee." The fourth panel is a low shot of three steel cannons with a mast towering above it; painted on the sail is: "BF-70". The lyrics are: "Stand in the shade of me. Things are now made of me. The weather vane will say, it smells like rain today." The fifth panel show a flock of seagulls flying over head on the top of the panel, and on the bottom the seagulls have morphed into white flowers, with the seagulls in an abstract in between phase in the middle of the panel. The stars in the sky line the borders, but they too melt away into abstract lines the further down the panel. The lyrics are: "God took the stars, and he tossed 'em. Can't tell the birds from the blossoms. You'll never be free of me. He'll make a tree from me." The flowers funnel down into the sixth panel where they morph into stars inside of Robin's speech bubble. Her speech bubble is wordless, containing only a night sky. She's standing as close as possible to Franky's figurehead while on the deck, and looking towards him, looking somber. She's resting her left hand on the railing while holding the back of his figurehead with her right. The lyrics are: "Don't say goodbye to me, describe the sky to me. And if the sky falls, mark my words, we'll catch mocking birds." In the seventh panel Robin lays in a hammock in Franky's sleeping quarters with the lights still on. The hammock is close enough to a wall for Robin to reach out and place a hand on it. The lyrics are: "Lay your head where my heart used to me. Hold the earth above me. Lay down in the green grass." The last panel shows Franky as a ship sailing the ocean under a night sky. His figurehead resembling the general Franky's somewhat, and eyes that function as headlights. Multiple cannons line of the sides of him. Robin is hugging his figurehead from the back, and a textbox reads: "Remember when you loved me." /END ID]

[axeoverblade]

42 miles with a trini reader or any west Indian implications tbh?? 🩷🩷

Caribbean/ West Indian Reader Head Cannons

Earth 42! Miles x fem! Reader

Synopsis! Where you are in touch with your roots.

MASTERLIST

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none!

Word count: unavailable

Authors comment: short blurb of head cannons. I tried my best sorry if anything is innacurate please let me know so I can fix it <3

Do not copy! All rights reserved to ©axeoverblade

When Miles first met you, it was hard for him to understand your broken English. But you were so pretty he was going to make sure he learned how.

Even though you were born US, your parents moved to America making your accent super strong and often hard for him to decipher

But now that he’s known you and had been with you for some time, it was like second language when he heard you speak.

He would sometimes even catch himself speaking like you, making the people around him confused.

They would just have to get used to it like he did.

One thing you two bond over is your love of fruit

Give you two a good mango or plátano and it was over

His mom absolutely loves you no doubt.

Sees you as one of her own and is so happy when you come over

She had given both you and Miles a talk separately about not breaking the others heart

Promised to her you wouldn’t and vise versa

When you first met uncle Aaron he gave you a really hard time

But when you stood your ground over and over again he eventually accepted you, telling miles that you could “hold your own.”

Aaron ends up becoming super close to you and acts like he likes you more than his own nephew

…

He does

You had been invited to multiple functions before and honestly his whole fam loved when you were around tbh

Of course in every relationship there was conflict

You two butt heads often because how strongly opinionated you both were

Both of you were like super sassy and had attitudes so you would often have “heated debates” over the littlest things, even if it was just for jokes

Something that was really hard for Miles was learning to accept what you wore

Like you were mad comfy with your body and often wore clothes that he would deem as “inappropriate” but he knew you weren’t wearing them to be.

Ended up having to letting it go and now non verbally threatens anyone who stares at you for too long.

He was genuinely surprised with how much your family varied in color the first function of yours he went to

He thought his familia was the biggest, most diverse in New York, he was wrong.

Yours definitely took the cake

You made him try doubles, and at first he though they were going to be gross or just not his thing

He was 100% wrong. You ended up having to make another plate because he ate em all.

Your mom loved Miles, happy that you found someone who loved you just as much as you loved him.

But she makes him help clean up

First time Miles met your father he could’ve sworn your dad absolutely hated him

He did

Ended up accepting Miles after he defended you from a stranger in front of him

Started calling Miles son and would often ask about how he was when Miles was gone.

Safe to say Miles was going to be around for a while

©axeoverblade

[mousegard]

aria of the black eagle kicks off its third act with an isekai adventure in fodlan!

Symphogear W: Aria of the Black Eagle, Season 2

Episode 1: Ties Binding Two Worlds

Maria Cadenzavna Eve wakes up to find herself at Garreg Mach Monastery. Ferdinand von Aeigr starts learning a new language. Chris pulls an Army of Darkness.

Gwendal’s men still had their weapons pointed at her, and Felix’s men were still waiting with swords drawn at the opposite end of the alleyway. “Alright, listen up, you primitive jarheads!” She leveled her Billion Maiden at the soldiers, pointing one set of barrels in Felix’s direction and another in Gwendal’s. She squeezed the triggers. Another deafening roar sent a volley of white-hot bullets into the ground at the soldier’s feet, forcing them all to scurry backward. Wisps of smoke curled from the barrels as their spinning slowly came to a stop. “These babies here are custom-designed with top-of-the-line specs to meet and exceed the output of the T249 Vigilante, the biggest Gatling gun ever made! That’s four, count ‘em, four sets of three-barreled rotary cannons, two per hand, each capable of firing three thousand rounds per minute, more than enough to kill anything that moves, with the equivalent firepower of one thousand light tanks. Each.” She thrust the guns forward. The soldiers all took another leap back. She couldn’t help but laugh. Who was helpless now? “It costs four hundred thousand yen to fire this weapon for twelve seconds… and I’m a fucking billionaire!” She looked down one barrel, then another, licking her lips. “So I guess the question is… how much are you guys’ shitty lives worth?” Sylvain stared at her, slack-jawed. He wasn’t alone. “Hey, moron—Sylvain. You wanna blow this place?” she asked him.

[thesoggyraincloud]

Catching her Chapter 8

/ Daryl Dixon x OC // Merle Dixon X OC (platonic)

Season 1-3 // THE QUARRY

word count: 2913

Updated

Warnings- Allusion's to SA, Cannon swearning and physical violnce ------

Instead of the comforts of a viable, functioning society, she had gotten two rednecks. They had arrived in a whirlwind, a week after the initial outbreak and a day after Quinn had run out of food.

------

Daryl. 

He hadn't felt terror in a long time. The kind that leaves you powerless, voiceless and without a scrap of logic left to reason with. That hadn't touched him since he was big enough to be called a man, since before he realised his fists left less room for argument than his words and he’d never seen a reason to turn back. The first time he’d felt terror was at the hands of his father, but this time maybe he understood Merle’s. Why he took the beatings and why he left. Because it paralyses you, when someone who feels like a part of you gets hacked away. Leaves you primal and wanting to charge towards the danger or away, whatever helps the feeling in your chest subside fastest so you can fucking breath again. 

Because he can't breathe. Not while she's in there and it’s his fault. He doesn't even know if she's ok, totally absent from their earlier scuffle at the Vatos base. All his senses tell him to run head first into the danger to get her, but the guilt in his chest makes him wanna turn on his heel and run away from it all entirely and back to Merle. His thoughts crashed and rolled against his skull as Rick spoke, forming words that were sucked away before they reached the redneck's ear. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when the items of offence were pushed into his view, the guns they unwittingly traded for their friends. And now would be forced to trade back, leaving him just as unable to defend her as before. He hated himself for it but his body felt tight at the thought that he’d be trading Quinn for Merle if he did this. One wrong move and he wouldn't be around to look for his brother. Hell every second that passes separated them by another mile, was she really worth more than Merle to him?

“Them Guns are worth more than Gold.” He huffed, rubbing his face, and quickly continued,  “Gold doesn't protect your family, put food on the table.” 

“Are they really worth it?” As the word left his mouth he physically pulled away from them, turning from the men and only thinking about the guilt coating his mouth. . 

“If I knew we’d get them back, I might agree.” Rick quickly turned toward T-dog, “What, you think Vatos across the way is just gonna hand 'em’ over?”

The boy they grabbed spoke up, Daryl didn't care for the subject of his words, only that the kid's voice made him feel like pushing his nose through into his skull. Hitting him didn't do anything to make him calmer it just poured more into his sense of injustice and had him pacing across the room again

“The question is do you trust that man's word?” T dog spoke over the chaos, and he tried to focus, to use his rage as a tool to help the situation and not hinder it, but he just ended up wondering how Merle would’ve responded. 

“No, the question is what you're willing to bet for it, could be more than them guns, could be your life. Are they really worth that to you? “ In his mind he asks himself the same question, weighing it against his heart and his mind. 

“The life I have I owe to him, I was nobody to Glenn, just some idiot stuck in a tank. He could have walked away but he didn't, neither will I.” he paused and handed Daryl a gun and continued, 

“I could be asking you the same question. That woman, Quinn, came out here to help your brother. She could've stayed back at camp with the rest of the women but she's out here for you.”

He wanted to knock the self righteous bastard around the head with the butt of his gun or push him out the window and into the street, he didn't have a damn clue and he sure as hell didn't have a right talking to him about it right now. That asshat was ignorant of anything that happened in that camp, hell he owes her shit? she owed him if anything. But the nagging feeling was pulling his feet toward fighting, bulldozing through the next few hours to get Quinn back to him so he could try and get some control over this hellish day. He knows where she is and if he could get her back he might have some hope in finding his brother.  

The men around him stared at him, eyes boring in and he realised they were waiting on his answer. 

“What, you gonna hand the guns over?” 

“I didn't say that.” Rick turned to T-dog, “You can still leave, there's nothing keeping you here.” 

Like hell there ain't, Daryl internally snarked, but T-dog chose to stay. Giving him nothing more to complain about. Leaving that space empty to focus on the pricks that took Quinn and Glenn.

“Come on, this is nuts. Just do like g says.” The kid spoke up, and sooner wished he hadn't by the time Daryl's hand connected with his face again. And like a highschool bell, the slap quietened the room, unifying them in their decision to leave. 

 The whole ride down he sat in anticipation, each metre the van flew over filled him with steam and fire. Like the bow of an old ship his mind fractured into a thousand working parts pushing and pulling against itself, the bedlam refusing to placate against what possibilities lay ahead. She hadn't been there when they initially tried the exchange, although from the way they’d displayed Glenn like a Christmas turkey, he's almost grateful he didn't see her. Or he would be if it didn't mean 100 different, worser outcomes might be taking place. It could be happening right now, what had he done to try and stop it but think about leaving her there with them to chase after his damn brother, yet again picking up after him. 

Soon enough the Van came to a stop and He had to prepare himself for the fire fight to come. He stepped out into the sun with a frown and pulled himself alongside the others with boots filled with lead. When the door opened, Rick led with Miguel, displaying the hostage and using him as cover from any enemy fire. It was a cold thing to do, Daryl mused. Stepping in behind them, it was clear they’d not lacked much in man power, at least seven or eight men stood guarding the entrance, locked and loaded ready to push them back out into the street. 

“I see my guns but they're not all in the bag.” The head vato, Guillermo spoke first. 

“That's because they're not yours. I thought I mentioned that.” Rick countered.

Both sides anticipate the pull of metal against their fingers. Someone spoke up from the back but Daryl was so weird on Guillermo he didnt make out what was said just that something was, staring into the crowd of antagonist’s he tried to pin the voice down to a face. 

“I don't think you fully appreciate the gravity of the situation.” The head Vato replied and the room felt like it shrunk as the Vatos pressed them back. 

“No, I'm pretty clear. You have your man, I want mine.” Miguel was freed, stumbling into the men in front and being absorbed by the crowd. 

“Two hostages for the price of one? I'm gonna chop up your boy. I'm gonna feed him to my dogs. They're the evilest, nastiest man-eating bitches you ever saw. I picked them up from Satan at a yard sale. And my boys will do worse to your girl. I told you how it has to be. Are you woefully deaf?” Daryl had to hold himself from throwing the gun and running at the asshole. 

Rick argued back but the situation grew more tense by the second, each man cocking their guns readying for the battle, that was until a small figure displaced the crowd in front. Breaking it apart and revealing themselves to be an elderly woman, calling out for someone to help. 

“Get that old lady out the line of fire now!” Daryl shouted, but she paid the situation no mind, not seeing the true threat before her. Tugging away at a man and crying for them to help someone they couldn't see. 

Guillermo shouted for them to leave but it was too late, with their weakness exposed they had no choice but to back down. The elderly woman, now realising the man in front’s attire started to shout in defence of her grandson, she thought the group came to arrest him. The situation quickly made Daryl feel grateful that his grandparents had never been any thought to him, looking after the old was the kind of burden he knew he couldn't handle with the dead walking. 

“Let em pass” That brought Daryl back to attention, pushing forward to find what he’d come all the way out here for. 

“Where's the woman?” He hadn't bothered waiting for an answer, heading off down the corridor towards Glenn's voice. 

“If your looking for your wife,  she's in the nurse's office.” A larger woman pointed towards a door in the opposite direction and he started for the handle, halfway turning it before he actually registered what she’d said.

“Wife?”  He questioned but the woman had already begun walking away back to the gathering at the end of the hall. 

He clicked open the door with a breath of relief, she lay down sleeping on the examination table and for the first time since she was gone Daryl felt he could shut his mind up, if only for a minute, as if looking at her might salvage this hellfire of a day. 

“Quinn, Quinn?” He shook her but she didn't stir, it took a hard shove before the woman woke up. Shifting in place and wincing in pain as she slowly opened her eyes to his face above hers. 

“Jesus Daryl.” She flinched back until he caught her arm bringing her up to a sitting position. 

“What’s wrong with you?” 

“Those damn asshats busted my back when they grabbed me.” She rolled her eyes as she spoke, looking away from him. 

“Lemme see.” He panicked as soon as he’d said it, pulling away almost immediately at the idea but unable to stop the words leaving his mouth. 

She shook her head, yes and took a sharp breath in. 

“There’s something I gotta tell you before you…you know.” 

“I was in an accident, there's a lot of scarring from when I was fused back together, I got a couple of grafts and shit too.” 

“Fused wha-” He was cut off when she raised her shirt, twisting around to catch his face. 

“Jesus Christ.” Was all he could manage, her back was a mass of scar tissues and mottled bruising. A perfect line snaking up her spine stood against the paintings on her skin as permanent evidence of the surgeries she’d had to save her life. 

“This is from an ‘accident’?” He questioned, although he was faintly aware she’d just said as much. 

She didn't reply, clumsily pulling down her shirt and letting out a heavy sigh. Rubbing her face, likely still sleepy. It wasn't unusual but something about the weight in her limbs set his mind in motion, his eyes watching her more carefully. 

“It’s not something I like talking about.” 

He turned away, wiping his damp palm���s on his jeans. He stood rigid on the spot, eyes darting between the wall and his feet trying to come up with something to say. But he was left at a blank, he had never seen anything like that on someone outside of himself, he could only think of his father and the crack of the belt flicking over him.

“We should go find the others, Daryl.” She broke through the image of his fathers torment, slowly walking to him until he took her arm to steady her, moving them both down the corridor towards their friends. 

Once all was said and done, the vatos were left with half the guns and ammo and Daryl hoped he never saw them again. He’d spend the minimal time inside hoping he would recognise the fucker that hit her, and the rest helping her hobble around trying to find a brace for her back. He’d been in a borderline rage helping her look for it in the vast building, but once they had it he was exhausted and ready to head back to the van and away from all these damn people. 

He could have died hearing glenn call out ahead of them. 

“Oh my god. Where the hell’s our van? We left it right there. Who would take it?” 

‘Merle” Rick countered, he looked at Quinn but she had no expression, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“He's gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp.” 

They continued their trek forward, pushing on despite the missing van, it was starting to get dark by the time they found a car in decent enough condition to hot wire. They all passed the journey in anxious anticipation at the wrath Merle might have inflicted upon the camp. He felt too done at this point to feel any guilt over it, Merle's potential actions might be his to deal with but until they got back he could have a moment of peace. 

His focus returned to Quinns rhythmic breathing, deep in sleep her face covered partially by his jacket collar. He found he had the temptation to pull it down from her face to get a better look. He settled on counting her breaths instead, watching the car pass by the highway. 

“Is she alright?” T-Dog spoke from his space in the empty trunk behind them. 

“They roughed her pretty good.” Rick filled the momentary silence as Daryl thought of a reply.

She wasn't ok, not in the slightest. He had no idea what the fuck to do to help her, hell he didnt even know there was something wrong with her and he’d spent the better part of 3 months with her. If she told him there wouldn't have been a chance in hell that he’d have let her run after those guns, she put herself in so much danger. 

“She’ll be fine.” He really hoped she would be. 

When they arrived at a stop the air was cold and silent, penetrated almost immediately as the car door shut by a scream that ripped out across the quarry. A chorus joined them, wailing on as Daryl raced forward, Quinn momentarily forgotten in the back of the car. 

He knew the others were following behind him, their footsteps quickly falling among the shuffles of the dead as bullets rang out. In the smoke and dispersing crowd, it was hard to tell how many there really were, taking extra agonising seconds to clear out the walkers. Every direction he looked they stumbled around, most covered in fresh blood. He took them down as they came to him, eventually running out of ammo and resorting to using the butt of his rifle to smash them down. 

“AMY!” 

“Oh god”

“AMY!”

Andrea’s screams signified the end of the walkers' evasion on their small encampment, Daryl stood alongside the rest of the group. Watching in shocked and equally horrified silence. No one moved for a few seconds, standing stagnant in the sea of death around them not daring to disturb her. 

“I remember my dream now, Why I dug the holes.” Jim broke through the clearing, ending the silence and snapping Daryl back to attention. 

“I need to go get Quinn.” 

He didn't bother waiting for a reply but he equally didn't expect one from the shell shocked crowd. As he got further out, almost halfway down the road they had left the car as he heard another slow, shuffle of footsteps coming towards him in the dark. Grinding dirt under their feet and limping over to him he didn't think twice lifting up the end of his gun and stepping forward in quick succession. 

“JESUS CHRIST” It was Quinn, shuffling down the road, in the dark on her own ready to be chomped down on by any geek around. 

“Are you Dumb? Or just high again because I told you to stay in the Damn car.” He grabbed her arm, his heart beating faster than it ever had before. He took a good look at her, checking for any more injuries as she tried weakly to pull away. 

“Fuck you, I woke up alone. To screaming and gunshots. Where were you? What the hell is going on?” He was silent, staring at her shadowed face watching her expression closely.

“Walkers hit the camp, and you’d know that if you hadn't gone out there earlier and stormed up Atlanta like your G.I Joe.” 

“Is anyone hurt?” At this point she was leaning up to him, so close he held his breath. 

He pushed her shoulder down firmly, immediately regretted it as she cringed back, wincing in pain. 

“Aside from you, Yeah. Just wait till you get back to camp, no point crying over shit you can't do anything about right now.” He slid his hand down her arm, letting her lean on him as they started the slow walk back.

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[yohohonabottle]

The nephilyms and Lavi's family

Just compilation of art and head cannons. Let me know if there's any errors + your thoughts on this! @windmaedchen

The twins meeting Lavi's kiddo!

After the incident of his wife getting ambushed, cornered -forced into fighting- dragged away and almost killed a la Salem witch trial + His twins would've likely died too if they didn't hide under tree roots nearby)...

Yeah Valen decided Holistone & Ryeham ain't safe for his fam so he took em, their two horses, and left to settle into the Wilders territory. Around the Vaduso mountains, very deep into the forested area at the mountains feet. At some point moved to live up on the summit (Similar to how his wife's family did long ago. The Eclipse dynasty families preferred to inhabit densely forested terrain and mostly on mountain summits. Some even lived in the mountain as well.) (The vampires of this bloodline had incredible tolerance to freezing cold climate, low oxygen levels and really high altitudes/latitudes. Think plane-ride high. They lived 'in the clouds'. And were known to be eagle-eyed ontop of their already keen sensitivity and senses as a species.)

Valen isn't bothered by the summit's trials, having adapted to them. Plus wears an outfit an Eclipse night nymph would--Something between the attired of Thai Hill people and Eskimos/Inuit. And his blood makes more cells.. he's got more blood than the average person.

Only trusted people are allowed. And Val joined the Thorned guards as both a swordsman, plus enrolled his twins in the Jadelake academy.

So Athe also became a Thornguard after graduating and Mari a Windwhisperer who often doubles as fellow thornguard. Pirin is in that squad too. So people of the Taran village & Lunadorf affectionately jokingly call them the Thorn family. Or the Guardians family.

(Excuse the doodle quality! ;-;) Uncle Athelric pretending not to care but watching over his human nephew. You know if anyone so much as TRIES to lay a finger and take a sigle, tiny hair off that little head--They'll be mauled. Lets the lil boye play with his tail, wings maybe a tiny bit his ear, but doesn't let him tug on them.

Or Athe patrolling and maybe Lavi's kid as a wee youngin ran off (like how young kids do mostly) and trips... in trouble, and suddenly there's a blur of light auburn and white, a bat mega bat standing over him and growling lowly in warning to the threat -could be hypofiends-. Then huffs when the two are face to face, his huff ruffling the boy's hair. Picks him up by the scruff like how a mam/dad/older sibling does with cubs/pups/kittens and darts in a graceful move toward Lavi. Has his stern look on as he approaches and places her son before her. Then leaves. Alt - Lavi and her kid running from something, and Athe jumps to protect them in his true form.

Bonus points if Mari is also around at the time and dives down/over to join the fray. Her brother remaining standing over the mam & kid to protect while she acts as the offence/attack-- wiping the floor with the foes.

------ Iliya meeting/interacting with Lavi & her kid

And then there's Iliya who playfully claps the kid on the shoulder, hugs him in a side-hug and ruffles his hair. "C'mere!"

-"Ah! And is that Mam I see?" -Cue Lavi getting drawn into the hug as well then lets them go. (No, she's not dodging that hug.) "What brings you to this corner of the desert?" (Smiling and cheery as he leads them to his home/clan.) Lets the family stay over as guests.

And bonus points for Soren who's a chill "grandpa"/Uncle(?). who likely has already grown very old and died... But is back to his young looks. Every time his body ages to elderly and he dies, Soren's body is the only thing that reverts to teenage again. His mind, heart, spirit and everything else is perma-lodged into 25-40 years old adult. Same as Alsa. (Or really every playable character. See "Wicked Sun & Orderly Moon.) Just one big family get together if Soren's clan is also visiting 'Liya's.

-------------------- The Cryptids from project "Harbringer" --

And I find it funnily adorable given the Mather of the Merlinverse and in general (Pirin) "adopted" Lavi/took her under his wing. And we all know what that happens, it's a permanent thing. So he'd the guardian of her and her fam til their final breaths, possibly the next ones after. Essentially Pirin and his nephylims are the guardians/protectors of families/lines of those they adopt(ed). It mainly starts with Mather and the nephylims follow suit (genes are saying their word fr). Pirin is guardian/protector of the family & home in general to begin with. (So count Iliya, Ame (don't underestimate the lil 10-ish y/o ghost girl), Mari and Athe plus their bloodlines as guardians to Cel & Ael's family along with Lavi's.)

"I'm guessing to count the cryptids in this lot as well since he's their core component. Which is even stronger than genes passed on i think." -Finch. I had this convo w @meepinmeat.

"Hell yeah!" -Meepin. So I then noted that there'll be one certain "Harbringer" to also be in the Guardian cryptids lot.

"You know the Knave's in this too-Og Berial fused with Pirin-?

Bet Lavi would be conflicted if he (Arlecchino) acts as her and her fam's protector/guardian ...angel? Hell angel???" -Finch. And here's Arlecchino's ask blog! You'll find everything related to him there- Art, lore, trivia & him answering your questions! (The main purpose of the blog is to ask Arle questions and he'll respond.)

Now. From here, major chunk if not 100% Finch's speculations ahead! I'm most likely wrong, please I strongly encourage feedback & corrections on these interaction parts! I tried to do justice by filling the blanks with keeping Val&Lavi's personalities in mind!

I imagine her son to get curious and excited, run up to him after he strikes Lavi!Og Berial/drives him away. And when the boy catches his tail/wing, Arle pauses and looks down over his shoulder at him.... Then smiles ever so slightly in fond, reminiscing affection before telling him "Go return to your mother." Then leaves.

Or the times Arle would look after her kid like a nanny-Guardian. Letting him play with his hat, tail, wings, watching him with that look.

And then disappears as Lavi's kid grows up... Only for him to call his name. Not "Berial" like how I imagine Lavi & her Val + everyone else do. But "Arlecchino"/"Arle". Like how he did back as a wee kid. And the Knave appears.

"You're a fool for seeking me." (No malice.)

"I know what you're made of. I know you're in there Berial, like the one you fought off. But I also know Mather's in there too, and fused into one with you." (I know you won't hurt me or my family.)

"Don't get too comfortable." (Maybe has that small smile, placing his hat on Lavi's son's head.)

------- As for the Balladeer, boy you'll see this mummer often. Likely has his happy mask on as he dances cheerily or his cattle bells make joyful, sort of friendly sound as 'Hello! :D' to both Lavi and her family. Possibly play with her son, keep him busy/entertained when she and her Val are too busy/need a moment to themselves.

But doesn't take off his mask, and doesn't let Lavi's kiddo take it off either- Touch it? Yes. Take it off/lift it? No. Gently tell him 'no.' by placing a fur-hidden hand over his and lower it away. Then when it's time for goodbye, The Kuker walks away. You can still hear him and his bells + tapping of staff on ground with each step. (The Balladeer's ask blog here!) Mostly communicates through dance, his mask changing and the bells on his belt + sign language that's not specific as he has made it up himself. (Only he knows/understands it.) But he can speak. Also the Kuker may be aware of how much he "resembles" the child's father and that's another reason he keeps his mask strictly on when around him. Doesn't want to confuse the kid, and sadden him with his fate. Otherwise he'd rarely sometimes lift his mask to reveal his face for a brief moment like in his "origin story". (His themes are at the top of his lore post + above the "index page". But here they are as well, clipped from the documentary film about Kukers done by New Yorker. The first track is the Balladeer's main theme. The second ost his other theme.

The Damoiseau - Songs and lullabies, the innocent and wholesome kind. Also helps the family sleep well/better by driving off their bad dreams, mostly through his songs. And watches over them with everyone else like a guardian angel. (He also has an ask blog!)

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

Destinytober24: Day 5 - Impasse

Battle couple firefight inside the Pale Heart: go!

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read it there

"Go through the Impasse, he said." Two gunshots. "It's faster, he said." Two more gunshots. "There's hardly anything in there but a few Taken, he said." Three shots. "This is the last time I'm taking directions from that Awoken sneak." Three more shots. "New Vanguard, my ass." Two more shots.

The Drifter crouched so Eris could shoot what was behind him while he reloaded his hand cannon. Hers barked loud above him, taking out a Taken Captain in one headshot that would have taken him two. Her beads and charms tinkled lightly along the barrel with a pleasing sound.

"There is no way he could have known there would be two Subjugators. Never mind the combination of an Omen and a Harbinger," she said.

"They even fuckin' bowed to each other like they was about to dance when they showed up."

They ran forward together and both crouched behind a rusted car with a rounded roof, the seat cushions inside long since eaten away to dust. The other side of the vehicle clanged loudly as it was repeatedly impacted by a slap rifle.

"And yeah, there is a way he could have known! He's a Hunter! By definition he's supposed to be a good scout."

The Drifter ducked around the side of the rusted car, picked off two more hostiles with head shots and returned to crouching beside Eris.

"As am I." Two Grim flew up behind them. Eris shot them out of the air with clean precision before they could unleash their shouting attack.

"Yeah well you found 'em and he didn't. I guess that makes you the better Hunter now, doesn't i-"

The Drifter stopped talking as both he and Eris heard the sounds of something on the other side of the husk of the car they were crouching behind.

He touched her arm and, when she looked over at him, jerked his head to the side while holding up three fingers. She nodded.

The Drifter tossed a glacier grenade and the two of them tumbled and slid. The ground near them was puckered with small explosions as bullets missed them and they took cover behind the Stasis crystals springing up from the grenade.

"In his defence," Eris continued. "I have several centuries more experience."

"Then why aren't you in charge?"

A Psion-shaped Weaver wearing green armour landed behind them. Eris decapitated it with one swipe of her sword before it could shoot. The Drifter took out its partner by tossing one of his coins. It bounced off the Weaver with a loud 'Ding' just before it was immolated in a fireball. The Drifter caught the coin on the rebound.

"Over?" he asked, pointing.

"Over," she confirmed.

They both hopped the guard rails along what had once been the median of a highway and crouched behind a different vehicle. This one was on its side, its rusted undercarriage exposed.

"No Hunter wants to be in charge." Eris continued. "That's why it's a consequence of losing a dare." She peeked around a twisted bumper and took two more shots. Both landed, removing two more Taken Goblins. "I have my own niche, and I would find the bulk of the work insufferable and ill suited to my skills."

"You kiddin' me? Ain't never met a Hunter that didn't need fuckin' therapy."

The Harbinger to the left and ahead of them began shouting something in its guttural Dread tongue. Without looking, the Drifter flicked a coin off of his thumb up and over the vehicle. It made another loud 'Ding' and another fireball. The Harbinger yelled in what the Drifter assumed was either frustration or pain. The Drifter smiled.

Incandescent with Solar energy, the Harbinger stepped around the corner with its long legs and pointed its spear at both the Drifter and Eris Morn. Instinctually, they rolled to opposite sides, avoiding the Strand attack and following up with attacks of their own. The Drifter put several bullets into it while Eris dealt it a vicious uppercut with her sword. It crackled, briefly stunned by the Arc energy from the blade and she followed through with three more sword attacks as the Drifter pumped it full of precision shots, each one hitting something vital.

The Harbinger shouted angrily as it dissolved into a knotwork of orange-brown resonance-energy roots. An echoing yell from the Omen across the highway made it clear their position was now exposed. The Drifter jerked his head toward a different location behind a different car. Eris nodded from her crouched position and followed him as he ran.

"The need for therapy could be said of any guardian," Eris said as she rolled and ended up next to him, both their backs against a rusted car door. "We all experience great volumes of trauma. And I am easily found for those who need me, Hunters and otherwise. They need only come to the Moon."

The Drifter finished reloading his gun and then leaned across her, taking two shots and causing two more Taken Goblins to fall down twitching.

"The Moon. Which is full of nightmares, yeah. Great place. Very soothing."

"It can be soothing when it is quiet." Eris took out two more Taken with her hand cannon and took cover next to him again.

"If you mean five minutes after a battle when everything is dead, sure."

"If Luna has taught me anything," Eris leaned over to deliver her reply directly into his ear. "It is that the dead are not silent."

They heard more guttural shouting in the Dread language nearby.

The Drifter had no idea what the Omen was saying in Dread, but he was thankful it was doing them the favour of letting them determine where it was based on sound. He knew Eris would feel the same way since her sense of direction from sound was even better than his.

Stasis crystals burst around them as they burst from their hiding spot. Both returned fire with their own Stasis attacks. Eris managed to freeze it with Silence and Squall. The Drifter got in a well-placed coldsnap grenade with a nice wide area, refreezing anything that started breaking loose from Eris' freezing whirlwind. Then he began firing his machine gun from the hip, tearing up everything in the area as Eris emptied her hand cannon into the Psion-shaped, blue-armoured Omen, each shot landing.

Moments later the Stasis wielding Harbinger, along with all of its nearby Attendants, shattered. The rogue Lightbearer and the three-eyed witch were left in a faintly blue-glowing circle which crackled slightly as the large amount of lingering Stasis began to dissipate. The shards of what had once been their enemies crunched like ice chips under their boots.

The Drifter scanned the field for nearby enemies before licking his lips and winking at Eris with a small smile.

Eris smirked at him, performing her own visual examination of their surroundings.

"That building there," she pointed.

"You wanna go there?"

"Yes."

"That is nowhere where we're supposed to go. It is not even remotely in the same direction."

"Agreed. However, it will provide considerable cover and looks easily defensible. If you can guard the door, that may be all I require."

"All you require for what?" He slid his butt along the hood of a car, kicking both feet up and over to land on the other side as he followed her.

"A portal to the Ascendant plane."

"Oh, hell yeah. Then we can just walk right on by all this bullshit. Avoid the whole thing."

"Ideally, yes, although there may be Taken." Eris crouched behind another vehicle as she moved toward the building.

"I can handle Taken." The Drifter proceeded to shoot down three Taken Thralls near them in demonstration. "It's these new ones that are causin' all the problems. Blue ones freezing us is bad enough, but the green ones tossin' me around like a fuckin' yoyo is-"

Eris put her arm out just as the Drifter was about to step into a large hole next to her. Gravel skittered from his boots down. It fell a long way.

"The holes too," he continued. "And I thought the Tangled Shore was full of holes. This has more holes than that Gambit map I retired."

"Which one?" Eris asked as she hopped lightly with both feet up onto the roof of a rusted car and then down to the other side.

"The one they called the Piss map."

An involuntary chuckle escaped Eris' lips. The Drifter's eyes immediately lit up with glee at having made her laugh, then they reverted to snake-cold as a slap rifle bullet impacted the car next to him and he flattened himself to the broken pavement. More bullets impacted the busted concrete as he rolled to the side. Eris' hand cannon barked twice over the hood of a different rusted car and the shots raining down on the Drifter stopped.

He crouched, leaped, ran across a gap, and slid down next to her with a scowl on his face.

"I should bring that map back," he continued. "They been gettin' all whiny about 'Ooo! Lucent Hive is so much worse than Scorn! Ooo! Shadow Legion have too many turrets. Ooo! Ooo!'" The Drifter raised one hand empty and wiggled his fingers in the air every time he said 'Ooo!'.

Eris gave him a small smile as she leaned out and checked for snipers.

"Back to the Piss map, ya whiny babies," he concluded.

"You really are in a terrible mood today."

"Yeah, well, I don't like being dragged around on a green string and bashed against rocks, thank you very much." They ran together across another open stretch. Nothing shot at them this time.

"And I especially do not like them doing that to you. And, in particular, so close to a giant fucking pit, all right?" He tumbled through the doorway of the building Eris had pointed out and came to his feet, Trust out and ready to blow away anything inside. Seeing nothing he reached out a hand and motioned for her to join him inside.

"This was supposed to be super quick and easy," he said to her. "I did not bring enough weapons for this bullshit." He crouched near the door watching through it while Eris pulled out a sharp stone and began inscribing runes into an inner side wall, well away from the doorway. The runes glowed softly with green Soulfire.

"And our guns don't even do nothin' against the pink ones," the Drifter added, grumbling as he watched through the sight on his gun. "And you and I can't go pink like that hero. We should not have come here."

"You did not have to come with me," Eris said quietly as she worked, scratching malachite-wisps of magic into flakes of rusted metal. "I could have just done this myself."

"Oh, hell no."

Eris tilted her head to the side, still watching the edge of her stone as she completed the outer circle and the runes flared bright. "I'm confused as to how you would stop me."

He looked over at her sharply, fear in his eyes. "Moondust, I can't stop you doin' nothin'. You know that, but…"

Eris heard the strain in his voice. She looked over her shoulder at the Drifter's face and her lips parted with a quick intake of breath. "I have upset you."

She crouched down next to him, placing her hand on his arm. He tensed at her touch and then immediately relaxed a small amount. She kept her hand there, gripping him gently but firmly until he sighed, blinking as he looked out over the rocks and rusted vehicles, still watching for assailants.

"When I told you I'd miss the moonlight… I meant it." His voice was quiet. Sad.

Eris squeezed his arm.

"I'm here for you." He emphasised the word 'you' as he spoke. "Only thing that matters is… you," he said softly, looking back at her briefly with worried eyes before looking back out at the wreckage in the Impasse.

Eris leaned forward and kissed his temple.

He leaned his head against her lips, prolonging the contact.

"Do not be afraid," she said, watching as he internalised her words, drawing strength from them, breathing deeper, not fully relaxing, but less anxious.

And then his hand cannon shifted position and barked three times.

An explosion engulfed a nearby pile of rocks in flames.

Several Taken Thralls began running toward them from another direction.

Eris flicked her fingers. Her frozen Ahamkara bone whipped out and smacked into each one of them, back and forth like a pinball bouncing around one of the old physics gaming machines the Drifter had on his ship. It hit six of them, freezing them solid before speeding back toward her hand.

The Drifter shot the closest one and they all shattered.

"Yeah." He smiled and looked up at her as she caught her frozen ball. "We'll probably be alright."

A mechanical warbling chirrup ending in a loud metallic sproing echoed through the air. The Drifter's eyes went wide.

It was unmistakable. They both instantly recognized the sound of a Tormentor materialising somewhere nearby.

"You're fucking kidding me." the Drifter whispered in disbelief.

"Ascendent plane?" Eris asked, standing beside him, her back against the wall, holding out her hand.

"Hell yeah. Don't have to tell me twice. Let's go."

Link to the entire month's worth of prompts on Ao3, posted daily.

[marierg]

Biscuits and Beskar: Ch. 8

Pairing: Boba Fett x OC Kaylee Manu

Rated: PG-13 (Language and violence, parental guidance suggested)

Warnings: cannon typical violence, language, old wounds/ past trauma, language. Let me know if I missed one.

A/N: This is more of a meat and potatoes chapter so no smuts. We're getting closer to the climax so just know that the pain is coming. Kaska is a Tuskin OC and one I've been working on for a while. I really wanted to have someone represent the Tuskins themselves and I tried to be as respectful as possible. Any recommendations are welcome so please drop 'em! If it's italicized then it's the Tuskin sign language.

Words: 6000 ish...

Gif by @anakin-solo

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Tags are open, just drop a line

To say that Drash was in an ill mood would be putting it lightly.

All afternoon it had felt as though her temper lashed upon the nearest being or droid that came too near. So she had taken to the hangar, working on her bike. Normally the sound of the wrench turning would act to soothe her circuits, but not today.

“E chu ta!”

Drash threw the spanner, sucking on her bloodied knuckles. She thought she'd been so smart getting you to come work for the Palace, thinking you'd be safe. She was a damn idiot to ever think that.

“Could get more thrust if you tuned the carb a bit.” Boba strode to the young woman, offering the spanner from whence it flew. She glared before ripping it from his grasp. Testy indeed as her friends had warned. Boba needed to understand what troubled the girl, the root of her anger. Drash had a temper for certain, but she controlled it well. Witnessing her practically stripped out the bolt heads, he knew it to be ruling the girl instead. Sitting on the crate a few paces off he took a deep breath. “Is there something about this Kaska business that troubles you?”

Drash could see the old man wasn't going to leave, roughing her nerves all the more. She wasn't in a talking mood and so continued ignoring the Daimyo. Drash glanced back to the bike refocusing as she pulled out the filter and placing it in the sonic cleaner.

The scrapper was tough Boba had to admit, didn't flinch. So what was it that she feared? “Drash?”

“It's fine. The drift trader's fine, alright,” She spat the words and tried to ignore the familiar burning in her chest. Storming to the tool box she began to rifle, there was no escaping it though. Over and over she saw that night, remembered your screams as they ran and hid. The stench of the dumpster and her own vomit while she and the others waited.

Waited to live, waited to die or worse.

The girl slammed the lid on the case, yanking another open to continue her search. Boba moved quietly, carefully taking the tool from her mechanical hand and placed it back. His eyes continued to assess as his tone remained neutral, “What troubles you then? Do you think that Kaylee will be in Danger?”

“Ain't none of us safe, what does it matter though?” Graveling out the words, Drash kept her own eyes glued to the wall. “You can always find another cook, another assassin, more muscle. Why would a Daimyo care, we're all expendable...”

“Your rage will not help you here ad'ika,” Once upon a time he may not have cared, that was the true, but no longer so. “You think it will protect you, keep you warm when all the others are gone. It won't.”

Drash turned, practically snarling. “You would know, eh?”

“Yes, I would.” It was a calm reply, laced though it was with regret. He had never gotten the chance to raise his daughter, never had the chance to pass on the hard lessons he'd learned. Drash was not Ailyn, nor was he her father, but his little tribe was as close to family as a man like him would ever get. “You're not the first to shed a tear, nor felt the sting of loss.”

“You know what's coming,” Drash narrowed her eyes, holding the Daimyo's gaze. She had learned long ago. Never blink, never back down, never show weakness. Yet here she was about to violate those rules of safety, for your sake. Because she couldn't loose you. “Send her away...”

“You really think I hadn't already considered that?”

Turning to fully face the old hunter Drash's shoulders set. Her voice began to rise, “She won't survive it again! Mama Kay almost died saving us and now it's happening all over again. Send her away where she's safe please!”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Boba wished he could do just that. “What happened?”

Drash knew from the Daimyo's tone that he would have the truth. Years of guilt filled her voice, “It was my fault... I tried to keep quiet.”

“Go on,” He saw as the girl's eyes clouded over. She may not flinch, but she was pained none the less as she sat twirling the ratchet.

“The bag men would come looking during the day. Lot of times they'd grab people on the street or you'd come home to your door kicked in, either way you'd never see those folks again. Sometimes sweep right into the school and grab a kid up. Stopped going, never real book smart anyway...” The twirling of the wrench was a soothing feeling in her flesh hand as Drash continued. “Mama Kay put us up in her restaurant, we hid up in the attic during the day. Wasn't bad for us big kids just... the littlin's got restless.”

Gnashing his teeth Boba saw red, but he let her go on. “How little?”

“My sister Nova was just eight. Couple of the others were younger, but she was the last one to hide with us. Mama Kay was trying to find a place for us to stay together but...” Wincing visibly the girl remembered how her sister had cried and begged not to go. Maybe if she had then things would be different. “The bag men got a tip off, came in the night. I tried to keep quiet but we were all sick and... they heard.”

The wrench ceased turning in her hand as moisture pricked her eyes. It had been a horror. The bag men had stormed in shouting, ordering the other patrons out. They had wailed on you, cut you, and still you hadn't said a word. Skad had been helping the others down the back stairs when the bastards lit the place on fire, used a can of astro fuel to really make it burn. It was when they were trying to get out that Drash had wretched what little she'd had in her stomach alerting to their presence. Nova had been grabbed, she was screaming for help. Drash had tried, the trandosian who held Nova wouldn't let go no matter how hard she'd hit him. Then the kark had grabbed her by the throat, hissing over Drash until all too suddenly he'd stopped.

She remembered the blood pouring down on her even as the flames rose around them. Coughing and sputtering she hadn't realized the it had been Mama Kay whose arms had looped around her, pulled her into the alley. It hadn't been till after Drash had been tossed in the dumpster that she realized that Nova wasn't with her.

Then the screams from inside...

“Mama Kay ran back in for Nova, part of the wall fell on her...” Voice barely a whisper as she tried to explain. “They made it out. Garsa hid us the rest of the night, then Kaska took us to the Dunes the next day, hid us for months until things calmed down.”

“And your sister?”

Her lip trembled as Drash clasped the little bracelet on her belt, “She was hurt too bad when the wall fell. She was just... too little... It was my fault.”

So that was it. The girl sought to right a wrong not of her doing, one that was never hers to bear. Drash had proven a strong and clever leader time and again among the mods. It had been she who had kept the little band held tight. A warrior unblooded and it was high time for her trial. Giving a solemn nod Boba grumbled, “Come with me.”

The girl followed the Daimyo across the bay and into the old Firespray. Drash felt cold, figuring he had brought her here for some lecture, chastisement for her foul behavior. Instead the Daimyo opened two cabinets in the wall, one lined with teeth of varying sizes, the other an armory case. “When I was a boy my father sent me into a cave and told me to return with this.”

Drash looked at the enormous tooth mounted in the case. It must have been a monster of a beast.

“He was teaching me a lesson, one that we all must learn.” Looking the girl in the eye Boba waited for her focus, “We do not let fear rule us. We have a task and we accomplish it.”

He then held out a pistol, small but better quality than what she had. At his insistent look, Drash took the fine weapon and tested it's weight.

“Are there any others from that night who still live?” Boba growled.

“Yes.” Her reply was as cold as ice. She listened as Fett placed his helmet back on, the vocoder amplifying his breathing. Looking at the visor from her periphery she wondered aloud. “Why are you doing this?”

“A blaster can be replaced, a life cannot. Use it well and add to the wall,” Boba closed the cabinets again, guiding the girl back out. “And when you do we shall mourn Nova together, properly.”

“And don't forget to have Nitro give Ratty and R9 a good once over. All those patrols has their gears in a bind.” You fretted reorganizing your pack for the third time.

Nikita smirked as her eyes rolled, “Oh he's going to love that.”

“Tough.” you groused, slinging your pack on. Let's see you'd delegated meals and kitchen to Kita cat, the droids to Nitro, the others were patrolling... “Oh and Freyn needs...”

“We know Mama Kay,” Nikita could feel the stress rolling off of you. Not that they all weren't in varying frayed states. “I packed the rations and saw to the temp logs and the delivery will be here by noon. Everything's handled, tell Kaska hello for us.”

Giving the girl a hug you rounded towards the bay, “just be safe till I get back.”

Drash got up and hugged you from where she worked on her speeder as you entered the bay. Boba was conversing with Mr. Djarin. Odd duckling that one, never ate with the rest of you. Neither here nor there for now as long as he protected your kids. Because that's what they were, they were yours and not even the stars could change that. They had carved an indelible mark on your heart and higher powers help if anyone lay a finger on them. As you secured the pack you could feel a presence coming from behind you. Boba thought he could be so sneaky, but you were learning him well. “Have something on your mind?”

Boba was glowering as you started up the speeder, “Let me send one of the others.”

“Kaska won't deal with anyone else.” Shaking your head a conversation you'd had three times over, you turned to face him. Stepping closer to Boba as he lingered in the shadows like a great brooding banshee. You stood hands on hips with a bemused look. It was your first real disagreement, but this needed to be done. Holding his gaze through the helmet you sighed, “Do you trust me Boba?”

He growled, “You know I do.”

“Then let me do this for you, please.” Reaching up to stroke affectionately at the heart on his chest plate, you tried to soothe him. His own large hand came to clasp around your fingers. Even with the helmet you could tell there was something haunting him, quite painful too. Whatever it was would not deter you though, “I'll go to Mos Eisley, get what we need, and be back before sundown. I'm taking the old bantha trails along the B'omar flats, no one goes that way and it's very protected.”

“Doesn't mean I have to like it,” Boba's voice was rough even to his ears. This was a dangerous precipice that his little tribe found themselves upon, a crossroads. One wrong move...

“No, you don't have to like it.” Tracing your finger along the side of his helmet you gently pressed a kiss to the cool metal. That is until he raised the helm to kiss you properly. Deepening it with a sweep of his tongue, you hummed in satisfaction. Once he'd lowered he helmet again you pressed your forehead to his. “I'll be extra careful, besides I have a good reason to get back quickly.”

“Oh, do you now?” Boba mused flirtatiously, gazing into your golden orbs. Eyes that smiled and laughed with life.

“Yes.” Smirking, your fingers teased the back of his cowl, “He's tall and handsome and likes my cooking...”

“Like more than that cyare,” Stubborn little Cookie, but it was a gamble he had to take. They were in short supply of ordinance and the Pikes had ceased any further shipments getting through. As you mounted the speeder he gave your hand a last, lingering squeeze. “Be quick.”

Drash had left, seeing you being affectionate made her gag. Din on the other hand stayed in the dark corner to observe. For as cold and calculating as Fett was reputed, seeing him with the small female was intriguing. As soon as your speeder dissipated into the distance though, Fett returned to his normal self. Clan did that, found those parts of you long forgotten or hidden away. Made you remember the person you wanted to be.

“Didn't you have somewhere to be Djarin,” Boba grumbled as he stalked back to the throne room.

Din's eyes followed the older hunter, humming to himself as he readied his ship for takeoff. The woman was far smarter than she let on and probably more than capable. Still, the sands had taken far more formidable beings in the past. He hoped to see her after his visit to Vanth. If for no other reason than she was a rarity in his and Fett's world.

“Peli, you in there?”

“Hold your banthas!” Raising her goggles to slide out from under the hulker that the Jawas had brought in, Peli Motto glanced across the bay to your smiling face. “You know I'm trying to run a business here, hardly get anything done with everybody in lately. First that custom job for... well never mind.”

“You're just too in demand!” Laughing at your friends boisterous attitude you walked around her many little mechanical friends to hold a wrapped package between you. “And what if I said I brought a little something extra for your troubles?”

Taking the package and sniffing, the odd little woman opened the string. Cackling in delight at the assorted treats, Peli was quick to put her casual business face back on. “Then I'd say I also found those parts you were after and that our mutual friend is around the corner.”

“There's a reason you're the best mechanic in the parsec,” Walking to the far corner of the second bay there he sat, waiting with his wares. Kaska had always been an odd creature from the day he'd walked into your cafe all those years ago. Much like then he sat, robes drawn around his body and respirator wheezing, all while carefully carving little figurines out of Bantha horn. Drawing closer you watched as the small piece took on shape.

Kaska had wandered the Dunes since the time before the Empire came. New Republic, Empire, old Republic, outlanders coming to try to claim that which had always belonged to his people. Some called the tribes Tuskins, after the battle of one of their settlements. But it was an outlanders name, not one that his people laid claim to. His tribe had long ago settled among the spires, keeping at bey the outlanders who only sought to take. More often they chose to keep the peace, but sometimes there were trespassers, those who should not be there. Unfortunately his own tribe paid a terrible price for choosing a path of violence against an ignorant innocent.

An innocent who had summoned a demon to exact revenge for her death. A demon who had slain them with the power of the suns itself. So few had survived that night, hiding in the crags of the cliffs and in nearby caves. After that the tribe had thought twice before any outsider was harmed, instead trading and selling, but always keeping to themselves.

It was partially from such dealings that his original trade agreement with the Manu woman had begun. Trading in melons and other dessert goods in exchange for money or food. Trading turning to an amicable friendship, the female having learned their language and even some of their customs. Customs which she was observing now, staying back a pace where he could see. Turning, Kaska set his tools aside and began to sign. “It's been a long time since you've asked such a favor of me.”

“I know and I don't ask it lightly.” At the old warriors signal you sat on the opposite crate and continued. “A storm is coming, your people and mine are in danger.”

“You work for the one in the Mesra Palace, one who walks both paths.”

Nothing surprised you much and it didn't surprise you that Kaska knew of your new employer. It was his turn of phrase describing Boba that tickled at intrigue. Something that you'd observed of Boba from your first meeting, that he fought and even moved like a Tuskin. That Kaska called him such was confirmation. Piqued, you couldn't help to question, “Do you know him?”

“His tribe was familiar to us,” Kaska let out a heavy sigh as his fingers punctuated his next words, “slaughtered by the off worlders.”

Nodding agreement you studied as Kaska paused.

“...Why do you fight for this Man?” Kaska observed as a smile fought to curve your lips. There was affection there perhaps, but enough to call upon his aid?

“Mok Shaiz has brought the Pike Syndicate to Tattoine. They will kill all of us, whether we fight or not, and bleed the planet for whatever they want. Someone has to defend the people.” choosing your words just as carefully as Kaska, you shook your head. “The Daimyo is trying to see a better way for all of the people on Tattoine. He wants to drive the Pike away, permanently. He wishes peace and prosperity.”

“Choosing violence always has a price young one,” Kaska saw the bitterness in your eyes, “but you know that.”

Yes, you knew all too well. “It's the only choice... the only one we've been given.”

“This is an outlanders war, we will take no part.” Standing Kaska made his way over to the cases of weapons that you'd ordered. Some of it was old Imperial issue, the rest was whatever the smugglers in Bestine, Carnthout, and Mos Taike had on hand. The old warrior had seen long ago the duality within you, two souls within. One being the kind, friendly, gentle being who cared for and loved those around them. One of peace and joy and brightness. Then there was the other, the one he'd seen born of fire and blood. A mother massif protecting her pack, a shadow. “These should aid you. I hope that we live to see this peace you speak of.”

“As do I. Perhaps you would come by the palace and I can cook for you again?” Detonators, rifles, hand blasters, a few scatter guns and belt blasters, but it was the fire bombs that caused your attention to shift. Delicate hand blown glass containing a chemical mixture that reacted at the first second of oxygen exposure. These in particular were a product of the sands as much as the hands that made them. Taking one of the delicate orbs in hand you rolled it carefully, like a witch scrying with a crystal. “These are your personal stock...”

“The outlanders have been venturing into our lands. Killing our herds and all in their wake,” Kaska picked up his carving and continued to scrape out the figure hidden in the ivory horn. Every piece told a different story, fortune or ill omen. The one he carved now was a mystery, but it told him of a battle. For your people or his own Kaska was not certain. “We will not fight your war, but if you stop them all the better.”

“The enemy of my enemy. We've long been friends though, haven't we Kaska.” Giving a half grin and a dark hum you carefully lay the incendiary orb in its case. Yes, you and the old dune traveler had long been allies, if not for him and Garza you'd have been dead and long buried.

Along with so many others...

As much as the native people of Tattoine did not like off worlders, there was a symbiotic relationship at times among the common folk. Uneasy, painful, but always there. Some ethos crossed all species and language.

To defend your home.

To protect the young and the old.

Not to steal nor cheat in ones dealings.

Striding over you pulled another parcel from your satchel. Normally you didn't have the bartering items that Kaska sought, but today you would be paying him for more than just this load. Some of this was long due and it warmed your soul. “Some of this is from me and some is from Daimyo Fett.”

“These are not easy to find,” Kaska bypassed the credits and treats, instead grasping at the small container of amber gems. The glass developed slowly as the suns baked the sand, a single bead was considered a treasure. Many of his tribe exchanged these small gems on occasions of births, deaths, marriage, and even treaties. That this was included was not only generous, but also was a gesture of diplomacy. “This is gratitude?”

“This is good faith. Boba said that these should be with the people of the dunes.”

The new Daimyo sending desert glass as a sign of friendship was profound and Kaska was impressed. Rising, the old warrior gathered his things and motioned you to walk with him. As he took his mount Kaska leveled you with another long stare. And there it was, the shadow in your eyes that told him all he needed know. With a nod and a gentle nudge, Bantha and rider began the trek home. What the next dawn brought only the Suns knew.

Peli had already hitched the trailer and had her droids load the additional cargo. She was as fast and accurate as she was crazy, and really you wouldn't have your friend any other way.

“Now I know you got some... 'precious cargo' on board here,” Peli had lowered her voice while making quotations in the air. “So I took the liberty of adding some additional buffers and stabilizers to the rigging. Hey, don't give me that look! You're the one drives like a eiope with it's ass on fire.”

“The last time you took liberties I had whiplash for a week!”

Peli scoffed, “Because this baby slowed down for lack of tune up!”

“Because you forgot to mention the new cutouts!” both of you staring at the other till stern glares turned to fits of laughter. “Honestly Peli why do you stick around here? Could be running the whole new republic fleet or at least your own station.”

A cackle escaped the older woman as her wild mane of hair was thrown back, “Sweet Maker why would I want that headache? Bad enough these new Republic code enforcement snooping around, where would my profit margins go if I had to pay all those licensing fees! Naw, I was made for this place and it was made for entrepreneurs like you and me sister.”

“Well I can't argue that,” With a sad smile you gave Peli a tight squeeze, unsure when or if you would see her again. Pulling away reluctantly you straddled the speeder and began the start up sequence. Swallowing any fear down you smirked at Pele. “You just take care of yourself Miss Motto. Come visit me when the smoke clears, yeah.”

“Ah, you know I will and I'll bring the Sabac deck. Keep an eye out for anymore Fire Spray parts too,” Peli played off her worry. Wouldn't do any good anyway, situation was going to be whatever it was going to be. If she were the betting type though, the credits wouldn't be on her friend or the bounty hunter. Pikes were known to be vicious. Even as good as Fett was reputed to be... Well she could hope for the best. Never the less a friend in need was still a friend in need and let it never be said that Peli Motto was a poor friend.

Still it wasn't promising from what all she saw and knew. With that she turned and headed back into the hangar. “Alright boys breaks over! Get those parts restocked and you! Get into that oil bath before your servos burn out AGAIN!”

“You tell your spice runners that Tattoine is closed for business. This planet's seen enough violence...”

The man had guts, Bane had to admit it. Foolish but principled, such a shame. Then there was the itchy trigger finger of a deputy. Now that one was in it for the name, not the job. The marshal was the real competition, the boy was scraps. Drawing back his long coat the Duros kept his cards to the vest, “You should have never given up your armor.”

The deputy drew first, clumsily. Bane was able to down the Marshal before he leveled the other man with four well placed center shots. When the dust settled and the bodies lay crumpled on the ground, he turned to the few who dared poke their heads out. “Tattoine belongs to the Syndicate. As long as the spice keeps running, everyone will be left alone.”

Bane turned and strode to his transport, unhurried and uncaring for the destruction in his wake. He was hired for a job and he would be paid well. As his ship rose in altitude he reported in, “Vanth will no longer be a problem. Has team two reported in on the woman?”

The suns would be setting soon, admittedly Din hadn't been certain as to when the little cook would return. The fact that Shand had asked him to go looking for Ms. Manu warranted concern. So he'd flown out, skirting along the Dune Sea looking for signs of your speeder.

And a good thing he had.

“Oh that's not good,” He muttered seeing a large black plume coming from one of the mesa rims. Circling round he could see two wrecked out speeders. Going down for a landing he surveyed the tracks in the sand and the blood with them. Blue green, not human.

PING PING PING

A quick succession of fire had the Mando diving for cover. “Who's there?”

“Mr. Djarin?”

It was a weak reply from high in the rocks, but Din was able to use the helmet's internal display to zero in. “I'm here!”

“Watch out! The other one's still out there...” You were perched up in the wind hewn cliffs, out of breath but alive. There was enough for cover but just so. You'd been stuck up there for a few hours. No water, no communications. Next time you'd let Boba send someone else.

If you survived this to have a next time.

“Stay where you are I'll come to you...” Din's words were cut short as the wounded Pike soldier came raging out of the canyon wall. Dodging left and right the two beings exchanged volley after volley of blows. Din redirected the finhead into the sharp rock creating distance. To close for the whistling birds and there were two many loose cliff sheaf's for a percussive blast. Pulling the blade from his boot the Mandalorian began to slice at his opponent. Blow after blow, cut for cut the Pike was an adequate fighter.

Not good enough for the years of his training though.

Din finally had the slime back, drawing him in and grabbing his cowl. As quickly as the fight had started it was done, the Pike falling to the ground with the silver blade sticking out of it's neck. Panting for breath Din hollered up to you, “All clear.”

Scrambling down the cliffs on cramped legs was no easy feat. Shaky and stumbling you came alongside your armored savior. It could have been so much worse all things considered. “... you ok?”

“No worse for wear,” Din could see the bruising and scrapes where the blood had dried. You were upright and fighting though and that was something. “Are you alright?”

You shrugged, “Been worse. God I hope they didn't get to the payload.”

The speeder was a mess but still functional as was the trailer. Din quickly reasoned that he should fly escort at low altitude the rest of the journey as you limped the cargo home. It had been a slow, tense journey. Like prey chased to their burrow, tails between their legs.

Sputtering into the bay you relaxed as the doors came down. “Holy Kark, I need a drink and a shower... scratch that food, drink, then shower. You hungry Mr. Djarin?”

Din shook his head, “I do not eat in front of others.”

“Seriously? The least I can do is make you something.” Dusting your suit off you looked pleadingly at the man. “You saved my life, Boba would never forgive me for letting you go hungry.”

Din could see that the little woman would not take no for an answer. “I cannot remove my helmet in front of others.”

“That's why we have straws, come on I'll make you a smoothie,” Walking back to your domain of control you trusted that the odd man would follow. Washing up you tossed jorgans, pallies, mellon, and berries into a blender with blue yogurt and ice. Mr. Djarin sat dutifully at the counter waiting as you poured the concoction. Dropping an extra long straw into his, you pushed the glass across the surface. “Here's to another day on this side of the dirt...”

“They were hunting you, specifically.” angling the straw up under the armor he saw as your eyes darkened.

“Mr. Djarin...”

“Din.” He replied easily as the first sip hit his tongue. Cool, sweet and refreshing. It was more than mere confection though, there was something nutritional, filling even. Chugging half the glass he realized you had quirked a brow at the informality. “You may use my name, if you wish.”

“Very well, Din.” You smirked at the hunter. Like an onion this one, layer after layer. “And yes I know. I'm only surprised it took them this long.”

Tilting his helmet to the side, “Why?”

"Well, let's just say... the Mayor doesn't like me."

“Ner Me'suum'ika?” Boba stormed into the kitchen. Fennec had called once you were found. He'd flown the Slave I over the south basin three times searching when you hadn't returned. Boba cursed himself a fool for ever letting you leave, for not going with you. He was going to cuff you to the bed and that was final. No more leaving the Palace till this was finished, no going on the balcony where you could be sniped. He wanted you safe, damn it. With a rumbling sigh of displeasure at your state, he was also relieved for your safety. “Are you injured?”

“I'm fine,” You tried to keep smiling as he looked you over. At his grumbling you shrugged guiltily. “A little scratched up, but thanks to your friend, I'm safe.”

“I'll be the judge of that, come on.” With a nod you sighed and headed toward the tower dutifully. Turning back to Djarin, Boba gave a nod. “Thank you.”

“Gar riduur, kaysh kar'ta hettir.” Din rose to retire for the evening, clapping the older man on the shoulder bell. “Gar Aliit et kotyc.”

“Tug'yc, vor entye” Boba couldn't help the slight smirk at Djarins words. He was proud of you, frustrated by your stubbornness but proud. It wasn't till he was removing his armor for the night that the title the other Mandalorian used for you struck him.

His riduur...

Translations (Mando'a unless otherwise annotated):

Finhead and Slime Back- Derogitory terms to refer to fish species; completely made up but comon tongue... Eh sue me.

Gar riduur, kaysh kar'ta hettir- your spouse, their heart burns

Gar Aliit et kotyc- Your clan is strong

Tug'yc- again

Vor entye- thank you

Ner Me'suum'ika- my moon

E chu ta!- (huttese)- shit/damn/crap/etc

Tags: @the-rain-on-kamino @pickleprickle @daimyosprincess @kimiheartblade @acatalystrising

[tgrailwar-zero]

Your ship moved in closer, MUSASHI's bullets scattering across the water. Some of them struck the whale- but it was still too far to get a dead shot with them. They were distracting, but not damaging. Not unless they hit something softer than the massive program's tough hide.

ADMIRAL: "Right- the cannons should be more accurate at this range."

MUSASHI: "I'd have to go out and swim in order to get close enough to use my Noble Phantasm. Still, I'm a pretty quick Servant, I can close the distance by jumping if I need to!"

MUSASHI: "We'll have to be smart about this. But if I use my Noble Phantasm and it survives…"

If it survives, the odds of it taking an attack like that again so easily are lowered drastically. DURYODHANA said that it was an adaptable enemy program- tricks only worked once, which meant that they'd have to be good ones, and well-timed.

An adaptable Attack Program, it must also have an understanding the ADMIRAL's capabilities… That must also be why it's not getting closer to the ship--

ADMIRAL: "Incoming!"

A massive form breached the water, dark and covered with wounds. Glowing blue sigils lined it's body, as it crashed back into the ocean, sending a massive wave towards you.

You remembered.

The information slammed into your heads like a migraine as you processed what you were looking at, as the massive shadow emerged.

'MOBY DICK'.

One of the great Attack Programs designed to traverse the Chimeric Lunar Sea. The War was a Free-for-All, Masters and Servants all fighting for the sake of victory in whatever way they saw fit, but certain Attack Programs were designed for the sake of keeping the match 'fair'. This was one of them. There hadn't seemed to be anything special about it during the Lunar Holy Grail War… it was just big and had strong defenses. Certainly, not ideal to fight under any circumstance. However, the nature this specific Attack Program was meant to have was more docile. If you avoided it, it wouldn't chase after you unless you had gotten too close, and even then 'pursuit' was minimal.

However-- when the Lunar Holy Grail War had begun to fall into chaos, even an Enemy Program like this began to lose aspects of it's programming. In other words, this was a 'defective Enemy Program', who had become more hostile and more adaptable. It had grown in it's 'artificial intelligence', but at the same time, had lost a fundamental part of it's programming.

If such a defective entity were to breach the Solar Cell and return to the Moon Cell, it would most likely be deleted outright. Therefore, the aspects of it's programming set for 'survival', which meant staying within the Solar Cell and not allowing itself to be put in any compromised position in which it could be removed from said Solar Cell.

With those 'survival programs' running, that had increased it's capabilities from 'able to compete with a Servant' to 'willing to surpass a Servant at any cost'.

Which is also why JAGUAR MAN warned you 'not to die'. This creature had no concept of the rules, it simply had the drive to 'not lose', which meant doing whatever it took to survive.

Like a lion set loose upon a gladiator in a coliseum, the thread between you and death was slim.

MUSASHI: "Ha--ah!"

She sliced through the air, her blades cutting through the water and splitting the massive incoming wave in two. It struck the boat, but with less harm than it would have if the ship took the wave face-on. As expected of a sword saint.

The crew held on tightly to the rails, grimacing as the ship rocked violently back and forth.

ADMIRAL: "Hold… hold…!"

The ADMIRAL grinned, though there was an uneasiness in her eyes. No, an excitement. A lust for the inherent 'danger' that this beast presented, and the glory that would come after weathering such a storm.

ADMIRAL: "He's feisty this time around! C'mon you rascals, don't let a little seawater soak your spirits! Up and at 'em!"

You were at a mid-ranged distance from MOBY DICK at this point.

See this post to choose SABER's actions!

SHIP STATS

The ship took some damage from the wave that was reduced by SABER!

SHIP'S HULL: [ X / X / X / X / X / X / X / X / X / X / ]

MAGICAL ENERGY: [ X ] [ X ] [ X ] [ X ] [ X ]

'LUCKY SHOT': [ X ]