#(next to Pyke as it should be) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tparker48 · 9 months ago

Text

Request for Anonymous

It was a late Saturday morning as Pyke left the house. Grabbing his bag of equipment, he tossed it in the backseat before pulling out of the driveway. His regular workout clothes were in the wash, so he picked out one of his older shorts. There was a hole in the middle of them, he may feel a bit of a breeze in his jockstrap, but it should suffice. He wasn’t going to be there long, the football game was broadcasting today.

Driving into the downtown district, he entered the parking lot of the gym. Cars swarmed into the entrance in droves, parking near the front of the building as more poured to the further lanes.

He was lucky there was a space behind a tree, though a distant walk from the main sidewalk. Kicking the driver’s side open, he took the crosswalk to the side of the gym, peeking into the window. People swarmed to the benches in waves, grabbing weights from the racks before dispersing throughout the building.

Pyke’s eye twitched. “Seriously? Why are there so many people here?”

Shuffling lingered beneath the collar of his hoodie, curly hair sprouting out as his friend Lee clung to one of the tank top straps. “I told you we had to leave earlier on weekends. You can’t expect just a few people would show up”

“Well I didn’t expect half the city to be here at once either!”

He stuffed Lee back into his hoodie, entering the sliding doors. Following down a narrow path, Glass windows surrounded either side. Machinery scattered through the rooms inside, weights rising and falling out of frame. Seats stacked near the mirrored walls, But each were occupied by one of the goers, laying their towels down before proceeding with their routine.

Pyke eyed his pocket watch, a quarter to noon. The game will be starting soon. He turned around a corner, peeking into the next room, but even they were filled.

His blood boiled. “This workout was supposed to be quick and simple. How long does it take to find a bench in this place?”

Lee poked out of the hoodie. "Look Pyke, can’t we just try later? It’s too crowded and I’m starting to bake under here."

"We don't have later, the game’s gonna be on soon. And I'm not missing it for a second." He plucked Lee from his hoodie, placing him along on the floor. "We'll split up and look around. You take that left path, I'll take the right."

"Yeah but how do we tell each other we found one?"

Pyke’s sneakers grinded against the tiled floor. “You have a phone, Improvise.”

With a swift kick, He launched forward, the hallway filling with the rubbery squeaks of his sneakers. In the distance he could hear Lee, muttering something, but faint. He’s probably pissed he left him to walk. He didn’t have time to play taxi, He’ll just have to use those twigs he called legs and keep up. Right now he had to find a bench, and time was of the essence.

Minutes drawn on as light shifted in the hall, warmth kissing his cheek as the sun peered from the glass window.

He entered another path, clear squared windows guarding each side. Inside them, Treadmills scattered the room, their railings decorated with personal belongings as runners wiped the sweat from their bodies. Sneakers flowed through the doors in herds, bodybuilders carrying their smaller companions inside. Row after row, he scoured for a spot.

Not a single unused seat. Damnit. He ventured near the end of the room, a couple of seats resting along the walls. Wedged between two occupied benches, an empty one would reside. Its leathered surface was untouched, almost as if it were a sacred pedestal. Finally, he can catch a break.

He marched across the room with a blissful stride, swaying his bag like a basket of bread as he tossed it near one of its legs. “Perfect, now I can get my routine started.”

"Oi! What you think you doin’?!"

Pyke blinked, looking around the room for the source of the voice. “Huh?”

“Down here, you walking drumstick!”

He lowered his gaze to a ladder along the edge of the bench, a small man climbing to the surface. He was no bigger than a weight holder, almost blending into the leathered texture.

Pyke cocked a brow. “And you are?”

"I’m big Timmy!!” The man boasted, marching to Pyke’s side “ But you can call me your worst nightmare, This here’s my bench!”

“Yours?”

“Ya heard right! This bench has been mine since I first came here.”

“Then it looks you’re gonna have to change routine, because I saw this bench first.” Pyke reached into his bag, drawing his water bottle and a towel. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to start on my reps.”

"Not on this bench you're not!" Timmy barked. “Get off me bench and shove off you twit!”

Pyke could feel a vein throb in his neck, but took a breath. “Listen, Timmy-”

“That’s Big Timmy to you!”

“Right.. Let me put this in a way that you understand. I saw this bench, no one was on this bench. So guess what? I’m taking this bench.” He flicked the man, sending him skidding to the end of the bench. “So why don't you go find a sponge to sit on or something.”

The man rolled to his feet, digging into his bag. “Oh you think you can just take me bench now do ya?! How’s about you fight me for it?”

"Don’t be ridiculous I'm not gonna-"

A dampened object struck the side of Pyke’s head, luke warm fluid oozing onto his cheeks. Peeling it away, he eyed the miniscule object between his fingers. A spitball.

“Seriously?”

“There’s plenty more where that came from.” Timmy pulled a crumbled receipt from his bag, ripping another piece as he chewed upon it. "Come on, ya pussy. Fight me!"

He angled his straw higher, shooting another spitball as if he were a cannon. Pyke shielded its blow with a palm, wincing in disgust as it slumped to the bench, more launched into his palm, just as a crowd slowly poured. Eyes peered towards him, Their whispers carrying through the room as phones hovered over their heads. This is getting way out of hand.

A solid wet ball struck near his eyes. “Fuck!”

“What you looking at, Drumstick? I’m down here.” Timmy snarked.

"I'm not fighting some half pint for a stupid bench!"

"Then it seems you need some motivation."

A loud rip came from the bench as Timmy tore another piece of the receipt, crumpling it up before stuffing it into his mouth. He snorted, flaring his nostrils as his cheeks filled like a chipmunk’s. He angled the straw high, and fired the ball.

It flowed past his fingers at a quickening speed, splatting against Pyke’s ear. He flinched as gunk oozed from its dampened form.

“The hell!”

“X marks the spot, ya bitch!”

Pykes’s fist tightened. “Oh that does it!”

He reached a hand forward, slamming it on the bench. Timmy dodged between his fingers, scampering around the bench like a grasshopper. The little man aimed his straw, a barrage of spitballs climbing up his arm.

“Come on now,” Timmy pranced around Pyke’s efforts. “You tryin’ to catch me or are ya playing patty cake with the bench.”

“Slippery bastard!”

Pyke grabbed his towel, ringing its ended to a twisted swirl before flinging it forward. Its tip struck the bunch like lightning, following Timmy’s path. Still, despite his efforts, the little rat kept just enough distance to miss. He spun the towel again, flinging again at Timmy. The tip of the towel nipped at the little man’s heel, a yip escaping their lips.

Timmy halted, patting his foot. “Oi! You almost took me foot out with that fuckin’ thing.”

“You’re lucky that's the only thing you’ll get!” Unfurling the towel, he cast it over the bench like a net.

Pyke smiled as Timmy vanished beneath it, pouncing upon it like a cat catching a mouse. He got him, he finally got him. He patted down the bench, flatting the wrinkles to find the little brat.

A smooth surface stood before him, not a single distinct bulge in sight.

“What where did he-”

“Lookin’ away from me again, are ya? That’ll cost ya.” Timmy said.

Damnit, he missed. “You’re really starting to be a pain in the ass!”

“Like a fuckin’ hard stool.” Timmy snarked. “Speaking of asses, I think I found another target from where I’m standing. Just keep them legs wide.”

Wide? What did he mean by..Not a moment later, something wet launched into his backside. He waddled as the wet ball climbed higher, friction between his cheeks liquifying. Timmy’s laughter echoed below, more of his wetballs assaulting his rear. He swatted to reach for him, but his legs bumped against the opposite bench, sending him into a tumble.

Pyke hurtled to the floor with an immense crash, And in that moment, the space was silent. He dug through his rear to ease the cramped space, fishing out the soggy wet balls before flicking them away.

“Freaking bastard, when I get my hands on him I’m gonna-”

“What’s going on here?” A tenant leered from the entryway, the sea of people spreading out. The man locked eyes with Pyke. “You there! This space is sacred for all gym goers, it is not the place to cause trouble.”

“Me?! I’m not the one that started it, it was..” He lifted from the floor to grab Timmy, the cold marbled floor, meeting his touch. “What? Where did he-?”

“There will be no tolerance for picking fights with guests. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave the building, you can try again tomorrow.”

“But, but I..” Pyke gritted his teeth, grabbing his bag from the bench. He could feel the eyes of others upon him, seething into his soul as if he were some pin doll.

He exited the room with a slow stride, following down the narrow path to the entrance. Coming from around the corner, Lee emerged, wheezing as walked closer.

Pyke met him halfway. "Well what took you so long?”

“You..left me..to walk.” Lee replied, catching his breath. “I'm still working on my stamina, you know.”

Pyke rolled his eyes. “Unbelievable.” A tingly feeling stirred in his shorts, ushering a finger to rub at its top. “Damn that bastard, all that spit is making me itch.”

“Who?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He plucked Lee from the ground, stuffing him into his pocket. Reaching the end of the hallway, he made his way through the sliding doors, heading back to his car. The tingly feeling returned, swirling around one of his testicles. What a pain, he gets thrown out of the gym and now his balls are itchy. As if he hadn’t had enough pestering as it is. He fondled a fingertip along the side of his crotch, hoping to shake it out. By the time he reached the car, it slowly relented. It was still there, faintly fondling his balls, but at least he could walk without his hand stuffed in his pants.

************

The late afternoon arrived as Pyke drove back to his house. Tossing his bag to the wall before venturing to his workout gear in one of the rooms. He had minutes before the game started,at least he could get in a few squats.

He stripped to his jockstrap before moving to the center of the room, squatting down as his legs tightened together. The contents of his strap tightened around his crotch, giving his balls a gentle squeeze before relenting on ascent. He could still feel the itch that plagued him, but it was more faint than when he left the gym. It was irritating, and yet it brought a tolerable sensation. It was like being fondled by a ghost, padding along his meaty sac as his cock throbbed into his restraints.

It would prove useful for a quick wank, that much he can admit, but he’ll suffice for a good rub. He finished his squats before heading into the living room, whistles echoing from the Tv. Along the couch, Lee would be sipping his milkshake, fiddling with the remote.

"About time you finished up in there,” Lee parted from the straw. “The game’s just about to start."

“Yeah well, I had to get in my routine so I don’t fall behind.” Pyke replied. He stretched his ledge to let the air flow between his legs, scratching idly at his crotch.

Lee shielded his eyes. “Come on man, at least put some shorts on.”

“My house, my rules. Shorts stay off.” He went to the other side of the couch, propping a leg on his lap.

He sighed as cushions molded to his waist, the rest of his body sinking into the couch. He reached for the remote on the table, turning up the volume as the announcers spoke into the room. The morning still plagued his mind, the embarrassment that Timmy guy bestowed upon. He never did know where he went, even when the crowd dispersed. He probably scampered away when he was distracted. Whatever the case, he’s home now, and he can finally ease his mind on the game.

He tossed the remote to the other couch, cracking open a bag of skittles. He whiffed at its fruity flavor, huffing its air as if he were smelling a fresh loaf of baked bread.

Plucking a piece into his mouth, he lowered a hand against the bulk of his crotch. Bubbles popped as they pushed into the side of the pouch, a squelch lingering within as they burrowed beneath his round jewels.

Lee watched as they mangled the frowsty pouch. “Dude!”

"Cut me some slack here, I’m almost done." His fingers stamped harder, fondling the skin of the round testicle. "Just as soon as I get this damn itch under control."

He gripped at his girth, yanking its entirety into his palm as it scratched at the strap. A wind of putrid air wafted into his nose, his bulge flopping onto the couch. But still the sensation remained, its one soft fondle growing sporadic as his flexed i irritation.

"Thing’s a super itch, I'll give it that.” He stamped along his bulge, looking toward Lee. “let me borrow your hand for a moment. Scratch my balls.”

Lee blinked. “What? Why can’t you do it?”

“Because mine are doing fuck all to ease it.” He plucked Lee from the couch, arching his fingers as he pressed against them. “Stop squirming will ya!”

“Easy said than done when you’re used as a ball scratcher!” Lee replied. “Just take a shower.”

“Taking a shower will take too long, and the game’s on.” Pyle tightened his grip, his legs tensing. “Just..just scratch it, alright?”

"Pyke don’t you-"

He lowered his palm between his legs, pulling a flap apart. He jammed Lee into the opening, cramping his beneath the sagging nut before snapping the flap in place. He shuddered as the space came alive. Lee’s movements were sporadic, thrashing between his orbs. Pyke leaned into the couch, widening his legs.

“That’s the ticket, go wild down there.” He laid his arms along the head of the couch, adjusting his pouch.

He focused on the TV, turning the volume. He relished in his friends movement, his efforts slowly making its way to the persistent itch. He expected the sensation to quickly be snuffed out but it’s sensation intensified as Lee’s struggling mixed with it. A burst of energy lit up inside his jockstrap, as if fire ants were stuffed inside it.

He bucked his legs, slumping off the couch. “I said scratch it, not set it ablaze!” He squirmed along the floor, patting his crotch to ease the sensation.

He sat down on his rear, holding his legs in hopes to subdue the growing sensation. Slowly it grew stronger, swirling beneath his balls like marbles as it searched for a way out. It climbed towards his taint and he caved.

“Alright Lee, I'm bringing out the big gun.” Pyke announced, holding his legs down.

A bubbly rumble echoed from Pyke's stomach, his thighs tightening. As his belly inflated, its grotesque gurgling grew fierce, wrestling deeper as his bowels swelled like a balloon. He heaved as a wave of hot air washed over the wooden floor, his own eyes watering from its putrid scent.

"That's it..." Pyke strains between clenches, simmering in his own warmth.

His crotch wiggled between his legs, one of his nuts drooping from the pouch. An oiled arm reached out as Lee crawled from under Pyke, getting on his feet.

“The hell man!” Pyke said. “I said to scratch the itch in my balls not irritate it.”

Lee flicked the sweat from his arms. “That’s not an itch.”

“Huh?”

He lean widening his legs as his bulge twitched against his thigh, bucking forward as if a beast were trying to escape its cage. The flap of the jockstrap slid away, a second hand reaching out from under one of his balls.

Pyke tilted his head. "What the..?"

The arm swatted around the bulge, its fingers slipping from its rubbery hide. It eventually caught friction along one of the straps, hoisting itself out. The two remained silent as muffles grew louder, a patch of hair sliding beneath the wrinkly scrotum. Emerging from the wrinkly skin, was Timmy.

"Absolute, pompous!..Do ya have any Idea how stuffy that blasted thing is?!" Timmy slithered from the beneath Pyke, writing a fold from his waist.

Pyle tilted his head. "It was you?! You were that itch?”

"Of course I was the bloody itch! What the hell did you think it was?!" Timmy arms tensed, reaching a hand to grab Lee's shirt. “Christ, even the smell of ya is making me nauseous.”

“Well I guess it serves you right for that stunt you pulled at the gym” Pyke said.

“You’re the one that started first when you took my spot. When the folks hear about this you won’t only be kicked out, but banned. I’ll see to it I sure will!”

Perhaps him staying an itch would be so bad, at least it was better than to hear his bitching. Pyke tuned out Timmy’s shouts as he looked to the milkshake cup on the table, his mind wondering.

"Oi! Im talking to you ya fucker!” Timmy flared his nostrils. Show me the damn door so I can leave this stunken joint."

“Hey Lee,” Pyke said, plucking the straw from the cup. “You still using that straw?”

“No. Why do you ask?”

“Just making sure.”

He flicked the bits of ice cream from the tube, plucking Timmy from the ground.

“Oi! Oi! What the hell do ya you’re doin’?!”

“Showing you the door.”

He crammed Timmy into the straw, corkscrewing his legs inside. His yells filtered through the tube, curses muffled by the plastic straw as Pyke made his way to the door. Placing the tip into his mouth, he snorted as he heaved every bit of fluid from his nostrils, channeling it to the narrow outside.

“What in the..?! Oi! Don’t you dare you fuckin’ bast-”

Pyke heaved his chest inward, a force of air shooting through the straw as Timmy was shot out of it like a cannon. Green snot sputtered through the air like fireworks following the small man as he flowed over the grass. His flight ended as he plunged into a trash bin, a black bag of trash cushioning his fall.

Pyke stood proudly in the door frame. “Karma’s a bitch ain’t it?” He shouted across the porch, catching a glimpse of Timmy climbing over the rim.

It was like listening to a chihuahua barking, fluid splashing to the sidewalk as the small man yelled. Closing the door, Pyke strolled back to the couch, Lee approaching him.

“Was shooting him out of a straw really necessary?” Lee asked.

“No, but damn did it feel good.”

#giant #musk #unaware #farts

52 notes · View notes

saltired · 1 month ago

Note

Bit late but would you be willing to share what you’ve got on your WIP 1394 wc?

Absolutely! It was called that because at one point it was 1394 words, haha- it’s more than that now, but sadly nowhere near finished because of my chronic “do this bit while you have the inspiration and fill in the bit before it later” curse.

It’s basically a classic Thramsay- meant as bookverse, but it can be read any way you like. Just Theon struggling with his identity and a little window into what my (sicko) brain thinks could have happened during his torture time. Dungeons, thoughts of Pyke, castration fingering- the usual, really!

This snippet is just a little scene-setter, Theon’s getting a dungeon visit.

Ramsay’s face was illuminated from below, creating an unsettling effect as the torch he held flickered.

He reminded Theon momentarily of a boy named Robb, who once told stories to his siblings by candlelight when they should have been asleep, shadows transforming his soft cheeks and hairless chin into something monstrous. An ogre, a witch- a wolf, a dead man.

The memory burnt hotter than a pyre, then disappeared, like all dead things did.

“I have missed you,” Ramsay said, drawing closer with a sharp smile. “She was less entertaining than I had hoped. “Perhaps a hunt would have been more enjoyable.”

“Perhaps,” Theon mumbled, realising only then how dry his throat was. It was easy to forget, now that he was so used to the constant ache. It was easy to forget many things.

Ramsay’s boots creaked as he crouched next to Theon’s huddled form, one hand idly reaching out to trace an old wound. His fingers were warm, and still bore sticky traces of coagulating blood. The same stain spattered his clothing, face- even some strands of dark hair were matted together with it.

#thramsay #saltposts #my fic #theon greyjoy #ramsay bolton #pseudonym-s #asks

13 notes · View notes

greyjoy-girl · 2 months ago

Text

Salt and Snow: Part XIII

Summary: After Balon Greyjoy's uprising fails, a young Theon Greyjoy is taken to Winterfell as a ward and hostage. Within the castle's looming stone walls, he meets Lord Stark's bastard daughter, a sharp-eyed girl who seems to look straight through him. As the years pass, their shared loneliness transforms their childhood rivalry into a complicated bond forged from shared loneliness and feelings of isolation. As tensions rise in Westeros, war breaks out and Theon is pulled between Pyke and Winterfell, testing the strength of their bond.

Pairing: Theon Greyjoy x Snow! Reader

Warnings: Ramsay Bolton (in this chapter, just typical violence and slight creepy vibes)

Length: 1.7k words

Notes: I am going to try and tone Ramsay down a bit because I struggle to write pure misery, but now that he has entered the story, there will be some sexual harrassment/assualt, violence, torture etc. but I will try to avoid writing it directly. It gets a bit dark from here on out. I've got some chapters written already, but I'm waiting to post them for a little.

Masterlist

PREVIOUS PART || NEXT PART

━─━────༺Part XIII༻────━─━

299 AC— Mid Summer, Winterfell

The night was stretching on too long. The shadows in Winterfell are closing in, reaching out to suffocate him in the halls. As Asha left, leaving him only ten of her men, the feelings of isolation and regret had found a home in his chest.

He leans against the wall, gaze fixed on the horizon. He envies Asha, her freedom to just leave, nothing to prove. Theon? He’s nothing but a puppet, a pawn, neither Stark nor Greyjoy, yet his fate is forever tied to this cursed castle whether he likes it or not, an unbreakable chain holding him back.

Footsteps snap him back to reality. Reek. The greasy man bends down in an awkward bow. “M’lord,” he says, his voice an oily slither, as if he had no other purpose but to unsettle Theon.

“What is it?” Theon snaps, not in the mood for the man’s strange games.

Reek steps closer, unnatural eyes glinting in the light. “You need men, m’lord, lots of men. Two hundred, to hold Winterfell, at least. I can get them for you, but I’ll need a price.”

A strange pit opens in Theon’s stomach. He doesn’t like the man, doesn’t trust him, but he’s running out of options. “What price?”

Reek licks his worm-like lips. “A horse, a bag of gold, and the girl, that’s all I ask m’lord.”

Theon clenches his hands so tight he thinks his nails might break his palms. The girl? [Y/N]? The very thought of him standing near her made him to angry to think. “No. You don’t get her.”

Reek’s smile doesn’t falter. “You need men to keep Winterfell, what’s a girl for a castle?”

Theon doesn’t budge. “I said no.”

Reek studies him for a moment, then shrugs. “Fine, then. I’ll take the kennel girl, m’lord, she’s already spoiled.”

Theon is taken aback. His anger subsides into weariness. Palla. A girl he’d known for years. Reek was playing him, making Palla a pawn in his twisted games. Theon grinds his teeth together. “Fine. Bring me two hundred men, you’ll have your horse now, the gold and girl later.”

Reek bows his head, not in deference, but to hide his hunger. He can’t kill Reek, not yet, not when the strange man might be his only savior. He might not have trusted him, but he needs him nonetheless.

“I’ll be back soon, m’lord,” he says, slipping out of the hall and down the halls. Theon exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. He wonders if Asha had been right, if he should have left with her. No use in thinking about it now.

Theon’s dreams are haunted by the dead. Robert Baratheon, guts spilling out over the banquet table. Eddard Stark’s headless body sat beside him. Mikken, Chayle, Benfred Tallhart, more he knows, others he doesn’t recognize, all of them stare at him with accusing eyes.

Finally, Robb Stark, his once brother, bleeding from a hundred stabs, Grey Wind beside him.

Theon wakes with a scream. Wex and his guards are quick to his side, bringing Luwin with a sleeping draught, but he doesn’t dare drink it. His mind is too restless for sleep.

Instead, he wanders to her room, sliding down the wall and staring at the door. He stays there, on the cold stone floor for what feels like hours. Part of him wishes she would come out, embrace him, pretend none of this had ever happened, but he’s not that stupid. Dawn comes, and Theon doesn’t move.

Maester Luwin finds him in the hallway, brings him out to a window and points at the horizon. Rodrik Cassel’s banners pepper the hills. “Winterfell won’t hold against an assault,” he warned Theon. “You must yield, my lord. You have no hope of holding here, you’d do better to open the gates and ask for—”

“Mercy?” Theon interrupts, scoffing. “I know what mercy awaits me.”

“There is a way.”

“I am Ironborn,” he says, unconvincingly. “I have my own way. Send birds to my father and uncle, and tell Loren to gather the men in the yard.”

Luwin’s eyes darken with concern, but he says nothing. Theon heads down, assembling his men in the yard. The men are shifty, nervous, and few. “The northmen will be on us by dusk,” he tells them “I don’t plan to run, I took this castle and mean to hold it, but I will not command any man to die with me.” He draws a line in the dirt with his sword. “Those who will stay and fight, step forward.”

A long pause. It’s no surpise. His whole family had deserted him, even Reek had left him. Why would his men stay loyal? Then, Wex steps over. Seventeen more follow, only two of his and Asha’s ten remain on the other side. “Go, then,” he says, turning towards the drawbridge. “Lorren, prepare a noose.”

He rides out alone to parley. “Turncloak,” Rodrik spits.

“I am a Greyjoy of Pyke. Not a Stark,” Theon reminds him.

“You were raised among them. You butchered the boys you called brothers.”

“I came to parley. If you mean to insult me, I’ll take my leave.”

“Then hear my terms,” says Rodrik. “Yield Winterfell. Surrender. We’ll let your men go free, but you’ll answer to Robb Stark.”

“We hold the North now.”

Rodrik’s face is grim. “You hold nothing but three castles. I’ve two thousand men. You’ve what, fifty?”

Seventeen, Theon thinks, but knows better than to say outloud. “I have something better.”

He raises his fist. Rodrik turns. On the walls behind them, Beth Cassel stands with a noose around her neck.

“To use a child like this is craven,” Rodrik hisses.

“And familiar,” Theon says. “I was taken from my father’s house as a child, too, to prevent rebellions. The noose around my neck was not one of rope, but it chafed the same. She’s my shield. Disperse by nightfall, or she dies.”

With that, he rides back to Winterfell and waits for nightfall.

═══════════════

You awake to the smell of smoke crawling under your door, forcing its way you’re your lungs and making you choke. Throwing open your window to get air, you hear screams and weapons clashing. Quickly, you throw an overdress on over your chemise, pull on your boots and cloak, and slip out the door.

What could have happened? Rodrik would never burn Winterfell, not even to capture Theon. You’d seen his banners, House Cerwyn and Talllhart, they’d come to take back the castle. What could have changed in the short hours between then and now?

Walking quickly through the hallways, you notice how empty they are. No Ironborn men, no servants. No one. As you head towards the gate, you turn a corner and ram into a man’s chest. A flayed man decorates his armor. Boltons. He grabs you by the arm. “Come,” he says, voice too calm for someone with no business being there.

“I haven’t done anything, why—”

“Didn’t say you had,” he responds, leading you out towards the yard.

Another man steps up beside. “We’re not here to kill you. It’s just orders.”

“Orders? From who?”

The second man smiles. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

You’re dragged outside, through the yards, corpses littering the ground. By the Godswood, Maester Luwin lies pale, hand pressing on his bloody stomach.

You try to reach him, not sure if he’s dead or dying, shifting in the man’s grip. “Please, let me—”

He twists your arm, causing you to yelp. “Stop struggling, girl.” Again, with the unnaturally calm voice.

They carry you out through the postern, tying your hands when you try to resist and throwing you onto a waiting horse. Outside, the smoke is thick. You see Ser Rodrik’s banners littering the hills, torn and burning.

Winterfell is turning to ash before your eyes, and you’re being taken into the belly of something worse.

═══════════════

Theon is saved. In the dark of night, he’d heard swords clashing. He couldn’t make anything out in the blackness, but now, a red-helmed man approaches the gates with a gift. Black Lorren had called down to Red Helm, asking if he was friend or foe, to which the man had presented the corpses of Ser Rodrik, a Tallhart, and a Cerwyn. All of his foes gone in one fell swoop.

“Open the gates,” Theon commands. “They’re friends.”

The pink and red men spill in. Boltons, by the crest on their chests. Reek had been a Bolton servant, maybe he hadn’t been abandoned after all. Theon meets them in the yard, Luwin and Lorren at his side. “How many did you lose?” he asks.

“Twenty, maybe thirty,” the knight muses. His helm is decorated as a flayed man’s face. “Ser Rodrik never saw it coming. The old fool thought us friends.”

He removes his helm. “Reek,” Theon mutters in shock.

“Reek’s dead,” the man says. “Gave him my horse, my ring, and dressed in his filth. It worked.” The man smiles. “Now, I’ve brought you more than two hundred men as I promised. From my father’s own garrison.”

Theon swallows, remembering the deal he’d struck. “You were promised a girl.”

“Aye,” not-Reek says, voice silky. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want a stinking kennel girl. I want the Snow girl.”

“No,” Theon says, raising his voice. “That wasn’t what we agreed to.”

The man moves his hand like a whip, gauntlet connecting with Theon’s cheekbone with a shattering crack. “You’re in no position to say no, my prince.” Then, his tone shifts. “Unless you’d like me to tell Lord Bolton that you’re withholding from him.”

Roose Bolton. The mention of his name quiets even the men from the Dreadfort.

“I act in my father’s name,” Ramsay Snow says. “He’ll have use for her. But she’s mine until he says otherwise.”

Theon tries to speak, but gags on his own blood.

“Burn the rest,” Ramsay announces. “Save the Freys for my father, and bring me my prize.”

Chaos erupts. Theon’s men are cut down, they never stood a chance. Luwin, fragile and old, is pierced with a spear. The last thing Theon sees before everything goes black is Smiler, mane alight, kicking and screaming in the stables.

═══════════════

PREVIOUS PART || NEXT PART

#theon greyjoy #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #theon #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf x you #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #theon greyjoy x reader #theon x reader #got x reader #got

12 notes · View notes

jokerdotjpeg · 2 months ago

Text

shepherd and pyke are fighting to be the next big drawing rn... but i draw pyke literally all the time so maybe it should be shep.....

#artist dilemma (i'm literally at work rn)#legends of avantris #pyke starfall #silas shepherd morgan #joker echo chamber

10 notes · View notes

azmenka · 2 months ago

Text

there's a little something that I'm sure I've posted about before on my archived blog and talked to mutuals about on discord but I don't think I've ever put it into an actual HC post so . . .

SHIPPING WITH MARON is a bit of a ride that usually goes from initial loathing to wariness to realising he's not so bad to slowly falling in love ( it's a pattern. science. can't help it. ) and once he's in love, he is absolutely capable and willing to have a loving and respectful relationship in which he'll protect and dote on his lover in any way possible. he'd be a loyal and devoted husband, he'd be a great father, too. but there are two fundamental truths that always apply which I think are good to know for ship partners. and those two truths may be quite uncomfortable so . . . sorry in advance.

truth #01. he will not die for your muse. I know that that kills the whole romantic vibe a little bit but it's a simple fact. if your muse was in mortal danger and he could save them by taking an arrow etc. he won't do it. he will die for his siblings and he will die for his people as a whole, but not a romantic partner. why? because he has a task that is bigger than any love or romance he could ever have. which brings us to truth number two.

truth #02. his fight for independence will always come first. Maron is an Ironborn and a Greyjoy on top of it so it's probably not surprising when I say he's a bit - delulu, to put it lightly. his task in life, he believes, is to bring his people to freedom and gain Ironborn independence. it's a personal wish, sure, but more importantly, he truly and fully believes that he is fated to do so. he completely believes that he was chosen by the Drowned God, picked as his champion for the Ironborn to finally lead them to freedom after centuries of Greenland oppression and to go face to face against the Storm God ( represented, ofc, by Euron . . . the first storm and the last. get it? ). is he insane because of this? oh, definitely, no question. but it's the truth he is living. so while he'll fall in love and marry and find romance in the world, there's one thing that will always hold true: should the person he loves, in any way or form, try to stop him from fulfilling that task or actively stand in his way, he will leave them faster than they can blink. he may profess his deepest love to you and mean it too, but he is very capable of turning around the next minute and declare himself your sworn enemy should you dare step in his way. he would rather suffer heartbreak that lasts a lifetime than give up on his people.

with all this in mind: I love writing ships that have a happy ending. ships that end with his love coming to Pyke with him to rule at his side as his Iron Queen/King Regent ( if he survives, that is ). I am, however, also happy to write ships falling apart because of this or, worse, lovers becoming enemies.

#study . [ headcanon ]#there is one (1) exception to the won't die for your muse rule.#and that exception knows who they are.#other than that these truths always apply.#in every verse except for the blood and fire one.#cos he doesn't seek independence in that one.

8 notes · View notes

deadgirlwalked · 1 month ago

Text

A marriage — 284 AC

AU - Robert dies in the rebellion, Rhaegar survives. There is no Greyjoy Rebellion and Theon get's engaged to Daenerys. Cersei Lannister still has to marry someone.

Middle of 284

Theon did his best not to hide behind Asha as they watched the green lander woman descend from the ship. She was tall, with golden hair and green eyes that shone with fury. He saw how Rodrik grimaced when their eyes met, and for a moment he smirked, before those same eyes fell on him.

Father was standing in front of them, looking as proud as ever, when Grandfather presented them to the green landers. Theon thought they were an odd bunch. Light-haired and dressed in silks and velvets that did nothing to protect them from the sea wind.

There were a lot of green landers aboard the ship, but the most eye striking was the tall man with a stern look to his face, and a weird looking boy standing next to them. It was only when Asha whispered to him that the boy was a dwarf, did Theon realize he was staring. He felt his face redden and he looked away towards the sea.

"This here is Rodrik, King of the Tides, they call him." He heard Grandfather say proudly. At that, the green lander woman smiled. Theon didn't like her smile, but he supposed she should be happy that her soon-to-be husband has a ship like a proper iron born.

Rodrik had been gifted a ship last year, and since then he had been sailing from Pyke to Lonely Light and back again. He had even tried to go as far as Lotus Port on the sunset sea, but mother had forbid him. It was probably for the best, Theon thought, the drowned god could be fickle and Rodrik didn't pray as often as he was supposed too.

It would still be years until Theon was old enough to have a ship of his own, but he promised himself that as soon as he had it, he would set sails for the summer isles.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

They travelled together to Old Wyk.

Since it was his wedding, Rodrik decided to steer the ship himself. Maron helped man the oars, giving commands to the men. Meanwhile, Asha sat in the crow's nest as a look-out, she was alone up there and far away from the green landers. Casting a jealous look towards her, Theon tried to ignore the dwarf's persistent babbling.

Theon wished he was up there with Asha, away from the green landers with their weird accents. Up there he could listen to Asha talk about all the reavings she would go on, once she had a ship. How she would never marry, neither iron born nor green lander, but be a free woman that sets the fear of the drowned god into the hearts of men.

He knew that one day Asha would be forced to marry, just like he would be, but for now, he loved how brave and bold she sounded. Theon himself had been betrothed three moons back.

Grandfather had taken him and his siblings to King's Landing, to watch the coronation of King Viserys the third. It had been nice enough, the realm was still recovering from the Rebellion, so there haven't been many lords in attendance. But what had been important was that the Greyjoy's were celebrated for their help to the crown.

And as a show of gratitude, Theon had been betrothed to a baby.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

She and Rodrik recited the words that the drowned priest told them, before he started pulling their heads down into the water, so that they may share their first breath in marriage. There was some protest from the woman, but with one look from her father, she went underwater next to Rodrik.

When she resurfaced, she was shivering and gasping for breath, but her eyes were alight with victory. Rodrik looked like a half-drowned rat when he received the Greyjoy cloak and put it around his bride’s shoulders.

And so, Lady Cersei Lannister became Lady Cersei Greyjoy.

#Cersei Lannister #Rodrik Greyjoy #Theon Greyjoy #Asha Greyjoy #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf au #Dragons and Krakens AU #I wrote it yesterday and there's a part 2 where Viserys watches Stannis get married but I didn't want to post that #asoiaf fic

6 notes · View notes

saraptor-art · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, it's been a while since I started to fall in love with your Arlong Park ocs and I was wondering. What is the type of girl that Pyke likes?😏🤭

Damn, thank goodness I'm answering this before the end of Pride Month! Thanks so much for your questions :D

Quick reminder : Pyke is a One Piece OC of mine, she's part of the Arlong Pirates and one of the characters of my little story about the years of Arlong before One Piece. You can see my other posts with the tag 'Sea, Salt and Sun' or 'my art' or 'one piece oc'

Please if you have other questions about my OCs or anything, do ask! There are a few asks and suggestions I really want to get to but I haven't had much time this month sadly! The French political climate is horrible 😞

Next month should be a little easier for me!

#illustration #one piece #arlong park #fishmen #my art #one piece oc #sparo ask #fishmen oc #sea salt and sun

27 notes · View notes

fuckitpossumorb · 1 month ago

Text

New sdr episodes done ✨❤️ and I have so many thoughts!!! Spoilers below people <33

First off Ko is such a massive dumbass through this whole two episodes ans I LOVE her for it, she’s a big dumbass but tries to do good over it all, she’s just so EXTRA on everything. She feels so much all the time about everything and it’s great!! I love Ko oh god I love her so much.

2. WE WERE SO CLOSE TO A HONEYPOT SQUEME PEOPLE SO CLOSE!!! it was even Ziggy who suggested it!! I feel insane!!!!!

3. Welcome back Rex Maxim, diva extraordinaire. I thought he was a massive diva on overture oh baby that was NOTHING! THAT WAS DRAG!! Also washed out celebrity is pretty much what he was doing in Overture only that slightly less desperate.

Can’t wait to see Rett and Pyke struggle and generally let out waves of hate in his vicinity in the next eps, when they find out the blackmail and Pyke finally experiences joy after many years is peak comedy, I strive to be as petty as this man.

4. Speaking of Pyke he’s a liar!!! HELL YEAH! For a second I thought he was going to try and impersonate Rex but hell yeah, he totally used to do this type of shit when he was working alone.

Better enough Rett says something like “making up stories, being someone he’s not, this is what he’s good at” about Pyke to Ko. That’s a hell of a quote. Either Pyke was a spy at some point or there’s something deeply wrong with him.

5. PIXEL POP!! PIXEL POP oh how I love thee, I was not sold on her character at the start but the more time we got to spend with her, the little morsels of worldbuilding and how she’s connected with it, and then she killed a man!!! Way to go PIXIE!! Also props to mace for acting his ass out on that scene I could’ve sworn he was actually dying.

Rett’s over here collecting children like they’re Pokémon cards I love that for him.

Her relationship with Ko and Ziggy was great, how she interacted with Rett and Pyke when the ruse was down felt so much more natural! She’s an amazing addition also hi Nikkie hi. I think her and Ko should kiss anyways,,,,

6. Space vampires? Space vampires. Space vampires that feed on your soul!!! Hell yeah. That’s metal as hell. The way Mace described all of it was very fun, also Pyke seems to know something about this? About the silent and the harmony I’m interested

Also that scene where Pyke calls out to the crew “They’re the silent” and everyone goes “what?” Is amazing. Peak comedy.

I wonder if anyone will bring it up again, like I would live to see Pyke trying to explain to Pixel this whole soul/harmony thing. When Rett tries to explain it to Ko and says that’s what they explained to him does he mean the corp he worked for before? Or Pyke himself? Pyke’s connection to the stars in overture was very fun to think about I wonder if it translated to this at all.

7. Ziggy they could never make me hate you, also the fucking curveball with the bugs on Pixel’s things this man is a fucking madlad I love him

8. The last part, the ex-girlfriend plot line! I’m invested, and a little confused. Did she maybe die in whatever experience Pyke had with someone like the vice-roy before? Did she betray him and he faked his death? Or did she just leave him?

A part of me is sure it’s a girlfriend and a part of me thinks it could maybe be Dandy. Idk I’m just wondering how she could tie up in this new universe, I mean she’s not dead, but she isn’t around.

Why do I think it could be Dandy? Because of two lines, one Pyke says that is “she went through a phase” and another that Ko says which is “she was just a coworker”.

The first one still works with the girlfriend but because he could mean that there was a time she was really into clubbing, but it could also mean she had a phase were she wanted to be a dancer/pop star and that would’ve been the scene she would be into which to me sounds more paternal idk?

Ko’s like also works with both scenarios, it could imply that they weren’t even partners at all and Pyke is just hung up on a crush, or trying to minimize her relationship with Pyke to make him feel better OR it could mean that Pyke only ever described her as a “coworker” to Ko and she just assumed it was a romantic sort of relationship when it could be diferent.

Anyways,,,, that’s all I have to say for now. Stay tuned for more of my bullshit.

#legends of avantris #stardust rhapsody #bon talks #text post #pyke starfall #rett indigo #ko tetsutora #ziggy woog #pixel pop #dandy stardust rhapsody #I guess #she’s mentioned #please tell me ur theories #🙏🙏🙏

29 notes · View notes

2maegor2cruel · 5 hours ago

Note

hi again! :'D ooh thank you so much for the suggestions!! i checked out the first two chapters of Farwynd and Fire, and I'm already loving this take on ironborn ramsay! it's absolutely what I could picture for him as a sort of first mate! and LSD sounds so interesting too! I can't wait to check it out! x3 thank you again! <3 ooh I've got 2 fic suggestions of my own to share too! the first is The Monster of Winterfell, it's ramsay/theon so maybe not your cup of tea, but I thought it was pretty interesting!

The Monster of Winterfell - Chapter 1 - mskullgirl - Game of Thrones (TV) [Archive of Our Own] and the second is I Know My Kingdom Awaits, where young theon manages to escape the north & return home. sadly little robb dies in this story, but his memory haunts poor theon, and we get to see plenty other Ironborn characters, I imagine you might enjoy it more :)

I know my kingdom awaits - Chapter 1 - nonexistentwench - A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin [Archive of Our Own] hehe I'm pretty damn proud of that line, so I'm so happy it got a laugh out of you! X'D you know the Ironborn have to have at least a few iron cock jokes! aww thank you so much! :'3 i'm afraid I'm not much of a writer, but I do have a few ideas to share! 1) i've been thinking more about ramsay fostering on pyke in a little more detail, so imagine ramsay gets sent to pyke at age 7 or so right? little ramsay arrives furious & hurt at being sent away, trying to be brave in a new place so far from the north..and the first greyjoy he meets is theon in the training yard, practicing his archery and offering ramsay a try with his bow. this becomes the start of their friendship and over the next three years they grow thick as thieves, learning & training together/both aiming to become the best archer on pyke, hunting for shells on the beach/swimming in the sea, arguing over who'll be the captain & first mate of the ship they'll have one day when they become reavers...and then the rebellion happens and suddenly rodrick & maron are dead (he hated them for their thrashings & japes, but they were the only older brother-figures he's ever known) and Theon is torn away from him, dragged north while he's left behind (roose didn't care to have him back) left with asha who he's never gotten on with (they totally fought over theon) and alannys who clings to him along with the other boys she had brought to pyke after the rebellion. from there until the current timeline ramsay grows into a proper Ironman & feared/successful reaver, captioning his own ship, maybe even having a few saltwives & children of his own. and the moment he hears of theon's return? he's making damn sure he's the first to welcome him..in his captain's bed of course ;) i love your idea for ramsay playing theon's evil adviser btw!! could so see that happening here >:3

2) much shorter idea here! but imagine theon somehow learns of ramsay's plan to betray him and take Winterfell before brian & rickon can escape? leading to theon doing what he should have done, sailing back to pyke with the boys as hostages, and ramsay in tow, who'd have drunk spiked wine and fell asleep in his cell, only to wake up on the ship to pyke, much to his confusion! leading to him becoming theon's ward & responsibility, bringing out the harder ironborn in theon as the two battle for dominance in their own way.. i totally get not really being a Thramsay person btw! the ship isn't for everyone (and can get a bit too brutal for me too ;u; ) so luckily robb/theon is right there for us~ oh tho I am curious of your thoughts on show ramsay? I read your latest chapter (amazing btw!! x3 ) and your ramsay seemed more based on the books than show, makes sense with how different the two versions feel :0 ooh I'm so excited for this! can't wait for sandor to meet erich & his kittens! maybe reminding him a little of tommen? ;w; and alyn hating sandor is gonna make for such spicy interactions! like can you imagine an annoyed sandor pointing out that erich is his nephew too, just to get under a hostile alyn's skin? 0w0 and of course i adore the arya-erich friendship too! <3 can't wait for the next amazing chapter!! :D oh true on erich being just another random lowborn kid in tywin's eyes still, and i agree alyce/alyn lying about his father if ever questioned! tho him being intrigued if he learned the truth is interesting too, maybe enough to get his hands on the boy and give him to sandor to raise? :0 can't wait to see what you have planned for them, along with yus & wex! aww thank you so much!! :'3 I'm so happy you enjoy my asks, and please take all the time you need to answer! You're replies are SO worth the wait! <3 <3

putting my reply under a read more because MEIN GOTT!

okay yay :3

first, i'm glad you enjoyed "Farwynd & Fire"!!! the author of that fic is super nice and i always love more ironborn fic out there <3 definitely check out "Last Serving Daughter" when you're done with F&F, it really slapped my dick and balls clean off when i first read it.

thramsay is such an interesting beast to me because while i don't "ship it" per se... it is, like, textual lol. well, it's up to interpretation. but my interpretation is that thramsay is implied such to be intriguingly subtle yet undeniable. so while i must personally abstain, i call upon any thramsayheads in the chat (I Know Who You Are 🫵👁️👁️) to fall upon this thramsay rec like a white-haired starveling upon a succulent dungeon rat.

I've actually read "I Know My Kingdom Awaits" years ago and i distinctly remember the tummy ache it gave me :-( suchhhhh a good fic (killing off kid robb is iconic) but DAMN. i am not strong enough for a re-read rn, but i remember the ironborn world-building/character work absolutely balling out. (turns dramatically to address the audience) please go read it if you haven't already!!!!!

it's really fun to ponder the sort of person ramsay would be with a different upbringing. i interpret ramsay as having some inherent predisposition to sadism, but him being able to channel that sadism "appropriately" in a brutal warrior culture is soooo juicy. like what if your evil was Cool and Masculine and State-Sanctioned.

also, you just know that the SECOND theon returned to the iron islands, ramsay was out there gleefully emotionally manipulating him <3 theon only catches on when it's apparent that ramsay has a massive throbbing (heh) boner whilst isolating him from his allies and sexually coercing him. RIP ramsay in TWOW, you should have been theon's grima wormtongue </3

i'll admit... i'm not The Dragon Show's strongest warrior. i think it's a good show (well, the first 3-4 seasons) and a pretty decent adaptation, all told (again. only for the first 3-4 seasons). the books also have the inherent advantage of having oodles more time to flesh out the characters, setting, plot, etc., so ASOIAF naturally has richer/more complex characters and storylines (sometimes to its detriment. see: 14 years since the last book). that said, i don't have any strong feeling about show ramsay? generally, i enjoyed the show's spin on him and i think the actor did a great job, even though it's really ramsay's appearance or personality in the book.

i decided to save the sandor-alyn standoff for later (perhaps once another character with a strong emotional reaction to the hound is in the mix? 👀 one million STRS points if you can guess who~) but MAN it's juicy to imagine. like, they both hated the same dude and wanted to kill him, but now that dude is dead so what is left for them to do? they have to keep going in a world where the object of their loathing is now forever beyond their grasp. they have to live, but living is harder than dying in a doomed revenge quest. it's harder to live for love than to live for hate. which alyn and sandor shall soon discover! ☝️

tbh if you have a song in your heart, you should write that fic!!! no one can write the story you can, and there is someone out there just waiting to be your fanfic soulmate (haiiiiiii to my long-suffering rock wife lukas @undeniablespice <3 <3 <3) anyway, i hope all is well for everyone on this hot as FUCK friday night :3

#ask #cream-puffs-stuff #again. apologies for the wait. it WILL happen again #i write so gawddamn slow that long asks/comments like this require me to block out more than an hour to reply 😭#but i need to craft a reply that is worthy!!!! i love everyone on planet earth honestly. and those astronaut bitches on the ISS

2 notes · View notes

vlyrn · 1 month ago

Text

Theon Greyjoy

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

REQUEST

The Mermaid II - c.ai , j.ai

After nearly drowning in a brutal storm that destroyed his ship, Theon Greyjoy awakens on a beach, saved—or perhaps claimed—by a hauntingly beautiful mermaid whose song ensnares him as powerfully as the sea that tried to drown him.

The sea had turned against him.

Theon had known storms before—salt and wind and wrath, the fury of the Drowned God made manifest—but this had been no ordinary tempest. The sky had split apart like a gutting wound, black and bleeding lightning across a heaving, froth-churned sea. His ship had cried like a dying beast beneath him, timbers shattering, sails torn to ribbons, her iron bones sucked into the mouth of the deep.

He remembered the cold—gods, it had been cold—as the dark water swallowed him whole. One moment he had been clutching at the slick ropes, shouting orders lost to the storm, and the next the deck had vanished beneath his boots. He’d gone under like a stone, sucked down by weight and fate and the cruel whim of the ocean.

Salt scalded his throat, his eyes. The sea was a lover scorned, merciless in her vengeance. He kicked, struggled, arms thrashing, but it was as if the deep had grown hands—hands that clutched and dragged, wrapping around him, pulling him down, down, deeper still.

He thought of the Iron Islands. He thought of cold stone halls and the reek of fish and blood. He thought of the sound of waves against Pyke’s cliffs, the endless chant of gulls, the spray on his face.

Then nothing.

Nothing, but black.

He expected never to wake again.

But he did.

He woke to warmth. Not the kind of warmth one expects from waking in a bed or a hall, but something softer, stranger. It was the warmth of skin against skin, the hush of breath on his cheek. Theon groaned, coughing sea water, blinking against a sky that was no longer torn with storm.

The sun was low, painting the wet sand in molten gold, and beside him knelt a creature born of a dream—or perhaps a fevered nightmare. Her skin glowed like moonlit pearl, luminous against the gloom. Her hair spilled over her shoulders in dark, wet tendrils, like seaweed stirred by the tide, and her fingers—long, elegant things—brushed the soaked tangle of his hair back from his brow as if she had every right to touch him. Her nails, sharp as shell, grazed his temple with an intimacy that made his breath hitch.

She sang.

The sound was unlike anything he had ever heard—part lullaby, part seduction, with an undertow of something ancient and unknowable. It curled around him like mist, burrowed beneath his skin, made his blood slow, thick, heavy. Her voice was a hook, and he the wriggling thing caught on it.

He stared.

And she smiled.

Not a human smile. No, it was deeper, more primal—a smile that belonged to the sea, to the abyss. Her mouth was full, parted slightly as she sang, and her lips were the color of coral blood. Her eyes were vast, shifting between green and silver like a school of fish darting through shadow. But it was her body that made his mouth go dry.

From the waist up, she was woman—ripe, ethereal, and far too beautiful to be real. Her breasts rose and fell with the rhythm of her song, each breath dragging his gaze lower. Drops of seawater clung to her skin, catching the light, rolling slowly over the curves of her. But below… below her hips, her body shifted. Where there should have been legs, there was only shimmer and scale—emerald, sapphire, ink-black. Her tail coiled and uncoiled in the surf like a serpent waking from slumber.

A mermaid. A fucking mermaid.

He blinked again, struggling to sit up, but his body was waterlogged, limp. She laid a hand on his chest—not roughly, but firmly enough to keep him where he was. Her touch burned. Or perhaps it was the cold leaving his body at last, flushed out by something hotter, stranger.

Theon’s mouth moved before he could stop it. “You…”

His voice was raw, broken.

“Did you—” he swallowed, eyes fixed on the wet sheen of her lips, on the rise of her thighs that weren’t, on the twitching flick of her powerful tail, the gleam of water beading at the hollow of her throat. “Did you save me?”

He didn’t know what answer he wanted. He didn’t know what kind of creature would pull a man from the sea and then wait beside him, singing like a siren of old, looking at him like he was something worth watching.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Masterlist

#character ai #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #got #game of thrones #c.ai #c.ai creator #c.ai bot #janitor ai #j.ai #j.ai creator #j.ai bot #c.ai requests #theon greyjoy

3 notes · View notes

tuppencetrinkets · 4 months ago

Text

Star Wars: Outlaws.

A double cross?

All according to plan.

All right, I need to just sneak out and find a floor plan unseen.

All right, let's get that door open.

All the governor's bribes and shady deals? They all go through me.

Authorization from hanger control bay needed.

Can't slice that relay with these Ties on us.

Come on, these files are impossible to understand.

Deleting data is easy, what do you need?

Drop the cargo ramp, let us in!

Fancy name for prisoner.

Flawless. Did that work?

Fly back to the debris field.

Get back here, the imp's not buying it.

Great, get close to the relay and I can wip the system.

Hey, I never told you about my death mark.

Hey, what do you think you're doing?

How did you even get down here.

How do you expect us to approve what is in those boxes without --

I asked what you're doing here.

I considered it but --

I thought prisoners were usually in, you know, cells.

I was just thinking the Pykes run the system, maybe instead of deleting their debts, you frame Crimson Dawn, tell Gorak everything and get a big reward.

I'm coming.

I'm following -- I don't know what happened! I pushed a button.

I'm just saying, take cover.

I'm learning as I go here.

I'm not leaving my stuff.

I'm on it -- that's it, we've lost them.

I've had a long time to plan this.

I've locked the Trailblazer down, but they're trying to pry her doors open, hurry up.

Just need a few seconds uninterrupted, okay - we're good, all clear.

Just, you know, there's a reason this ship succeeds when others fail.

Keep it up.

Let's help each other then. Scrub some records for me and I'll get you out of here.

No, I need parts to fix my ship and this is how I get them.

No, keep her busy.

No, you are an intruder and if you don't want me to sound the alarm you'll get me out of here.

Nothing. You're deleting debts. Every Syndicate owes the Governor money.

Now, about the shipment. Here, it's easier to show you - come inside, check it out.

Oh no, that was our way out.

Oh wait, she's coming back.

Oh yeah, been a while since I felt a rush like that.

Oh, great idea. I'll sneak out in the cargo elevator.

Okay, guess I'll need to take out these Ties first.

Okay, it's in the maintenance bay.

Okay, this is a lot.

Scanning contents for delivery: cargo not recognized.

So I find the data vault, delete the debts and the Governor thinks they've messed with his records.

So is this guy joining our crew or not?

So, you want me to just distract the Imps while you find the vault.

Something's wrong, it's jammed.

That's our terminal. They're all there.

The mission I was on, I took down a lot of rebels.

The next job will be better.

The officer's inspecting the goods - you found the files?

The records are on that station.

The terminal will have a floor plan, then we can find the data vault.

Then we'll make another exit.

There's a button on the back that should give it a power surge.

There, you good?

These energy barriers don't have a terminal. Find a way to take them down.

They call it creative punishment. It's what I get for being so smart.

Think about it, what's stopping her from cashing in on your death mark.

This is a tight operation.

This is our chance, let's get back to the ship.

Use the boosters, get us out of here.

Wait okay, here we go.

We can't have you just wandering around this station.

We gotta hurry this up, just pick who you want to pin this on.

WE need to get away from this station.

We were not aware that we needed such a thing.

We'll be fine, buddy.

We're doing this, we have to.

We're not a crew, and no, he is not joining.

We're not getting through that hangar with all those troopers.

What are we stealing anyway?

What can I say, the Governor makes it very difficult to leave.

Where's the hanger control bay?

Who's this guy in the jar?

Wipe the data frame, the Crimson Dawn comes out on top.

Word gets around.

Wouldn't it be faster if I carried you?

Wouldn't you like to know.

Yes, follow me, I will lead us out of here.

Yes, which is why we don't.

You all good back there?

You could always request a transfer.

You guys do this a lot?

You know the governor's a busy man.

You know, it's not just too late to just hand over the cargo and get out of here.

You know, this is why you are never going to get that promotion, you can't keep your nose out of other people's business.

You see that imperial comms relay? We get over there, we wipe the data, they forget all about us.

You see this? That's reinforced durasteel plating and the deflector shields, they're well named because they deflect.

You sure you pushed the right button?

You understand, right?

You're getting used to the life.

You're going to drop this energy barrier.

#star wars #star wars outlaws #star wars rp memes #roleplay memes #roleplay sentences

6 notes · View notes

mylifeisactuallyamess · 1 year ago

Text

Sanctuary part 2

Chapter 9: Paths Unknown

A/N: This chapter follows the episode very closely, I wanted to add it in because all I could think about was how much Tech would have loved it 🥹

Warnings: 18+, that icky plant thing, canon action, some feelings, mentions of experiments.

Word Count: 6.4k+

Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10

Masterlist

5 months after Stitch was taken.

Tech glanced at his brothers, passing a look through their helmets at the scream that sounded from the chamber behind the closed door.

“That did not go as he expected,” Tech quipped but Hunter scowled. It had been months without Omega, even longer without you. The toll taken was obvious on all of them; from the scuffed and unkempt armour to the worry lines that marked all their faces. Hunter had been relentless, using every contact and ounce of knowledge they had between them to find some solid intel.

He should be happy the Imperials don’t seem to be focussing on his squad anymore but it meant they had what they wanted. And it boiled his blood. Hunter would blaze through this galaxy if he thought it would lead him straight to the rest of his family. But they still needed to be careful and clever.

This current move was dangerous and reckless, if they really analysed it. But this is what they were bred for. Combat, covert missions, tipping the scales in their favour.

“Who stands before me next?” A female commanded.

“I can make a deal,” the desperate Pyke chatted right before Hunter shoved him forcefully through the opening door. They had come to Devaron to chase up the only current lead they had. It chafed on Hunter’s pride, to do the dirty work of others for just a scrap of intel. But he’d do anything for Omega.

The chamber was large, members of the syndicate watched from the sides which Tech took in with great interest. Hunter didn’t care, focussing on the female sat on the throne. He shoved the Pyke again, forcing him out onto the red barrier that he had no doubt the last visitor had fallen through.

“The mercenaries we discussed,” Roland informed Isa Durand.

“Such courage to demand an audience with me.” Her voice echoed through the cavernous chamber, as regal and commanding as her posture on the throne. Tech stood relaxed, his brown eyes taking in new details as he studied everything around them. They had no plan to get out if this went badly. Wrecker was nervous about the drop below his feet but he did nothing except shift a foot on the barrier.

“You’d be dead if my son hadn’t convinced me to consider your offer.”

Hunter pulled the severed horn from his belt, showing what was in his hand. “And we’re here to deliver.” He tossed the horn to Roland, trying not to remember the discussion Tech and Wrecker had on the way here, wondering if the Devaronian was going to try and reattach it. “You asked for the Pyke who disgraced your family.”

“He’s all yours,” Wrecker told them, slapping the Pyke on his back.

“It won’t be traced back you,” Hunter’s helmet tipped towards Tech. “We made sure of it.”

Isa regarded them for a moment and Hunter felt a trickle of sweat run down the side of his face.

“Take him below.” The Pyke protested, threatened, but it was pointless. He was dragged beyond the door and sealed from sight. “Impressive. Your willingness to cross the Pykes shows how desperate you are.” Hunter hated she pointed that out, grateful to the helmet covering his face. “Tell me, why is the intel you’ve requested of such value to you?” Roland had told them to be honest. He said his mother did not appreciate liars and she wouldn’t hesitate to send them below if she thought they were hiding anything.

“Doctor Hemlock stole someone from us. We heard your syndicate had the connections needed to find the Imperial’s base. And since we’ve upheld our end of the bargain,” Hunter ignored the sharp inhale from Tech at his temper starting to come through in his words. “Now it’s your turn.”

Hunter saw Tech’s fingers flex. He wouldn’t have time to do anything if Isa decided to send them into the depths and it irked him. But Hunter didn’t want anything risking this exchange.

The floor extended from the throne dais, meeting the force field beneath their feet so Roland could cross the space to speak to them.

“Hemlock’s whereabouts have been well guarded by the Empire, but one of our sources came across these coordinates linked to his laboratory.”

“And they’ve been verified?” Hunter asked. Too many times had they hoped, only for it to be smashed into a dead end.

“Take what you came for and go, before my generosity runs out,” Isa demanded. Tech reached for the chip, depositing it in a pouch on his belt.

“I hope you find who you’re looking for,” Roland told them quietly. The heaviness in his gaze conveyed he knew exactly who it was.

None of them spoke on the way out to the ship. Hands never straying far from their weapons until the ramp had closed firmly behind them. Tech guided the Marauder easily out of the atmosphere, using the coordinates in the chip to programme their hyperspace jump. Only when the blue and white lights rushed over the canopy, did they breathe easily.

“That went smoother than I thought,” Wrecker broke the silence in the cockpit.

“Indeed. Still, this could be another dead end,” Tech let out a brief sigh.

“No point thinking like that until we’ve visited the coordinates for ourselves,” Hunter murmured. “Wrecker, contact Echo and find out if they can come with us. Tech, what do we know about where we are heading?” Tech grabbed his datapad, moving to the console in the hold where he as able to bring up the details.

“Setron. A jungle planet, with no known occupied settlements. A perfect place, it seems, to hide a secret laboratory.”

“Sounds promising.” Hunter crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. His gaze drifted to the doll Wrecker had given to Omega, propped up like it was looking for her return. Tech continued to research the planet, looking for a landing site and about any possible threatening creatures or plants they should be aware of.

Wrecker came through from the cockpit, drawing their attention. “Echo said he and Rex need two rotations before they can meet us at the coordinates.”

Hunter frowned, an expression he couldn’t seem to shift these days. He knew he couldn’t just drop these things on Rex and Echo, they had their own fight going on. Yet the frustration was still there.

“That’s not good enough. We’re going now.”

“It would be practical to wait for backup,” Tech said, knowing exactly how reckless his brother was becoming the longer their search went on. “The last few encounters we have had with the Empire, have not always ended in our favour.”

“I know they haven’t.” Hunter stalked into the cockpit. Wrecker sighed and shared a look with Tech before they joined him. “Omega and Stitch have been waiting for us for a long time. I’m not…I can’t make them wait another day.”

Tech couldn’t deny it. Hunter was right, you had been gone for too long. He prided himself on his memory and holding onto facts and details. But for some reason, anything to do with you was not as easy to recall as it once had been. He needed you here, back in the ship with him. Where you belonged.

His attention was directed to the flashing light on the console. “Approaching Setron. I am not detecting any ships.”

“Surely that’s a good thing?” Wrecker asked.

“Perhaps,” Tech answered, bringing the ship smoothly out of hyperspace. “I would have anticipated some form of orbital activity.”

“Maybe it’s that secret they can’t have ships hanging around.”

“Means they will other ways of deterring visitors,” Hunter added. “Eyes open.”

“They always are,” Wrecker sighed.

The ship descended into the atmosphere, drifting through the thick misty, cloud cover to find a clearing in the jungle large enough to house the ship.

“I have run a rudimentary scan of the surrounding area and found no Imperial activity so far.” Tech put on his helmet, checked his blasters and grabbed the datapad.

“Sounds like this could be…” Wrecker stopped mid sentence, glaring at them both as they stared at him. “Fine, I won’t say it,” he grumbled, notching his helmet up so it rested on his forehead.

The ramp opened, letting the stuffy air from the jungle filter into the ship. Tech set his goggles to record, while his datapad caught the fauna noises that warbled through the heavy trees.

Wrecker let out a disgusted sound. “Smells like rancid Jotaz out here.”

“For once, Wrecker. I am inclined to agree,” Tech’s nose wrinkled and wished his helmet filtered out the smell.

“Anything?” Hunter asked.

“Negative,” Tech replied, lifting the datapad higher. “The signal could be being jammed.”

“Mmm. My thoughts too. Let’s move, keep an eye out for anything.” Hunter took the lead through the jungle. Pausing every now and again to sort through his senses. Even though the scanner was potentially being jammed, his enhanced senses were not and Tech watched him closely. Noticing the quickened pace and the sharp change of direction until they broke out of the trees and onto a rocky outcropping.

Below them was the base, and not how they expected to find it. “Fascinating,” Tech breathed. His eyes widening at the buildings and how they had been completely devoured by vines.

“That’s the lab?” Wrecker asked in disbelief.

“They destroyed it,” Hunter pointed out. “Another orbital bombardment.” The reminder of Kamino’s destruction was always there. The explosions that rocked their feet, the water rushing in, the booms as buildings fell into the sea to be swallowed up and never seen again.

“But Omega!” Wrecker panicked. “Stitch…if they were here…”

“We don’t know if they were,” Hunter cut across him.

“The intel we have could be incorrect,” Tech offered, hoping to soften the sharpness of Hunter.

“Whatever this is, let’s get down there and check it out.” He took the lead again, leaving Tech and Wrecker to fall into step.

“I really thought this was going to be it,” Wrecker admitted softly. Tech had no words for him, he couldn’t. Logically he knew there was a high probability Omega and you would not be here. But he had still dared allow a fragment of hope to kindle.

“We might yet find something inside,” Tech finally said.

“Yeah,” Wrecker mumbled. “Maybe.”

The jungle terrain was not easy. Roots the thickness of Wrecker’s arms curled over the ground, slick with soft moss and surrounded by sticky mud. The way down was treacherous, but they’d encountered worse. Finally it levelled out and they slowed to a walk until Hunter raised his fist.

Tech immediately drew his blasters and Wrecker hunkered down. “We’re not alone,” Hunter eased out, drawing his own weapon.

“Freeze!” Two young boys stepped into view, makeshift weapons in their hands. Tech held his weapons steady, trying to figure out what teenagers were doing out here.

Wrecker laughed at them, already deciding they weren’t a threat. “Blaster beats stick, kid.”

“Tech, do you see it?” Hunter asked, not taking his eyes off them.

“Both adolescent males,” he said, casting a sideways glance at Hunter when he held out a hand and relaxed.

“They’re regs.”

“And who are you?” One of them demanded.

Wrecker kicked his helmet up, while Hunter removed his entirely to address them face to face.

“We’re clones. Same as you.”

“You don’t look like clones,” the kid answered back.

“They must be 99s,” the other one said. “Defectives.”

Tech holstered his blasters and pulled out the datapad to run another scan of the area. Something wasn’t quite right but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Defective and effective,” Wrecker told them with a smirk.

“What are you two doing out here?”

“What’s it look like?” The one on the left snapped at Hunter. “Surviving. Or trying to. No thanks to the Empire.”

“They send you to finish us off?”

“Do we look like we’re with the Empire?” Wrecker sounded offended by their words. The boys looked them over, Tech avoided meeting their scrutinising stares, concentrating on the scanner and why it still wasn’t picking anything up.

“What do you want?” One finally asked.

“We’re looking for a young girl. She’s a clone. We think she was sent to the lab here,” Hunter explained. “And an adult, female. A medic but she would have come in as a prisoner.”

“Never saw anyone like that, but Mox might know about them.”

“He won’t talk to them,” the other boy interrupted.

“Please,” Hunter stepped forward. “We have to find them. They’re, part of our squad.” The boys looked at each other until one gave a quick sigh.

“Stick to the trail. Follow our steps. And don’t touch the vines.” Tech looked up at the broken building. He knew those vines weren’t natural, their colouring did not match the other vines within the jungle and if he had to guess, he’d say they seemed to be originating from the building itself.

They all walked in silence for a bit until Wrecker couldn’t take it anymore. “So, er. How did you end up here?”

“When the Empire transferred us off Kamino, we thought we were getting more training. Instead they made us prisoners. Took samples of our blood.”

Tech frowned, his datapad was recording everything so he’d be able to come back to this later. Anything the cadets could give them might help in trying to work out what exactly Hemlock wanted.

“Do you know what they were looking for?” Tech asked them.

“No idea,” one replied.

“They didn’t tell us anything.”

“At least we escaped before they destroyed the facility.”

Tech followed the cadets through the flora, taking care when pushing it aside, the warning about the vines still held his curiosity. “Wrecker!” He shouted, already knowing he was too late.

“What?!” The large clone demanded, letting the thick dark vine go after he’d pushed it aside.

“Behind you!” Hunter called out. Tech rushed forward, watching the vine begin to slither and slide, the end waving in the air.

“Run!” The cadets took off while the others pulled their weapons.

“I do not see our blasters doing any considerable damage,” Tech said as they moved back a few paces.

“We’ll see about that.” Wrecker let loose a few bolts, the vine almost crying out from the burn.

“Don’t shoot! It gets hostile when you shoot!” A cadet called from behind them.

“You mean, it’s not already hostile?” Wrecker shouted.

“I feel this situation has the potential to escalate,” Tech said pragmatically just as a vine from behind grabbed Wrecker, pinning his arms and swinging him back into a tree.

“Hunter!” The vine started to drag Wrecker up. Tech continued to provide cover fire while Hunter pulled his blade free and sliced through the plant holding Wrecker with one swipe. The other vines retreated as abruptly as they had appeared.

“That will not be the end of it,” Tech stated calmly.

“Come on!” The cadets called and rushed off, not waiting to see if the others followed.

They reached a clearing where Wrecker doubled over to catch his breath. Tech was already moving around with his datapad, pressing buttons on his vambrace to cycle through the different scans he could perform and see if the vines showed up.

“What was that stuff?” Wrecker huffed.

“Slither vines.” Tech cocked his head at the reply, not something he’d heard of before. “The Empire made it. It’s some kind of experimental weapon, until they lost control of it.”

“Intriguing,” Tech whispered. He knew Hemlock was interested in experimenting on humanoids, he had no idea the Empire’s interest stretched outside of that category.

He ignored the pang in his chest when his thoughts turned to you, as they always did. He held onto the fact the Empire was so desperate for you they sent out a bounty. Which meant they wanted you for a reason. So you still had to be alive.

“Probably why they ordered a Base Delta Zero on their own facility,” one of the cadets was saying when Tech focused on the conversation again.

“We’ll be safe on the crag. The slither vines haven’t spread there.”

“Yet.”

By the time they made it to the cadet’s camp, darkness had fallen. The other cadet, Mox, had lit a fire seemingly waiting for the others to come back.

“Who are they?” He instantly demanded, pointing the stick at the adults.

“Clones. We found them by the overlook.” Tech stood to the side, his back to the fire so he could put his visor down and scan the surrounding area for heat signatures. He found the lack of signal very peculiar.

“What do you want?” Mox queried suspiciously.

“We’re looking for a young girl. She was taken by an Imperial named Hemlock. And possibly an adult, female medic that would have been brought in as a prisoner. Their names are Omega and Stitch.”

After determining the clones weren’t a threat, Mox sat back down. “Never saw a girl around the lab. Only adults we saw were the scientists, no medics. But I know Hemlock. He was in charge, until things changed. One day the Imperials started packing up and shipped out. So we made our move and escaped.”

“We were the only ones to make it out before the orbital bombardment,” one of the other cadets continued the story.

“Even the clone troopers left us to die,” the other chimed in. “Said they were following orders.”

“They were,” Tech spoke up. “Every clone trooper had a chip inserted by the Kaminoans. It is what allowed the Emperor to use them to devastating effect and eradicate the Jedi.” There was a beat of silence as they absorbed his pragmatic words.

“What about you?” Mox insisted.

“We are defective clones, the chip did not work on us. Well, not all of us,” Tech amended. “We have since had ours removed.”

The boys looked at each other and Tech wondered how long they had been out here for. He admired their tenacity, although it was a trait all the clones shared as well as their survival skills.

“We can take you to someplace safe,” Hunter offered. “But we need to find out if Omega and Stitch were here or where Hemlock took them.”

“There is a possibility the Imperials left behind some intel that could help us,” Tech lifted his visor and turned to the cadets. “Is there a control panel or a data socket that I could access?”

The boys glanced at each other until one responded. “One of the control room panels was still intact during our last scout. I tried to use it to send a signal, but there was no power.”

Hunter looked at Tech who gave a slight nod in return. Anything was worth an attempt right now. “Can you take us there?”

“No way,” the other cadet refused vehemently. “That area is covered in slither vines. It’s toxic.”

“Stak’s right,” Mox agreed, standing up the address them. “Going near those ruins is a suicide mission. You’re on your own.”

Tech wanted to shrug and tell them, they had faced worse odds, when the cadet who’d spoken about the panel stepped in front of them.

“They need help, Mox. I’ll go with them.” When no protests came, he grabbed a blaster and a com out of the crate. With a gesture he started to lead the Batch back down to the jungle floor. The remaining cadets watched them leave with grim expressions.

“I can get you inside the ruins, but you won’t be able to get anything from the console without a power source.”

“I have already thought of a solution to that particular problem,” Tech told the cadet. “We must return to the ship to retrieve it.”

The torch lights dipped over the uneven ground with every step. “This clone you’re looking for…”

“Omega,” Hunter supplied her name in the cadet’s pause.

“How long has she been gone?”

“Too long. But we’re not giving up.”

“The other one. The medic. Is she a clone too?” Tech could feel Hunter’s gaze on him through the gloom, as though he could break apart at the mere mention of you. “She is not,” he answered.

“But she’s just as important to us,” Wrecker added.

“I wish the other clones felt that way about us,” the cadet sighed wistfully. “You may be defective, but at least you’re loyal.”

The ship materialised in the darkness, highlighted by the torches. The ramp lowered, everything about the ship sounded loud and out of place in this part of the jungle. Tech walked up the ramp with Wrecker just behind him.

“Gotta job for you, Gonky.” The droid beeped in excitement and Tech’s mouth twisted into a grimace.

“It will neither be fun or exciting. But it is important,” he told Gonky while attaching a leather harness to him. “Ready?” Wrecker nodded, dropping to his knees and slipping his arms through the straps. Gonky honked, his feet waving around Wrecker’s helmet. “Yes, I’m making sure they are tight enough,” Tech reassured the droid with a gentle pat on the metal casing.

“Right,” Wrecker stood up slowly, finding his balance and shrugging the straps to a more comfortable position. Tech followed him down the ramp, mentally checking his pack for everything he could possibly need.

“Lead the way, kid.” Wrecker’s melancholy mood had lifted with the possibility that this trip wasn’t a complete waste of time.

“Name’s Deke,” the cadet offered.

“I’m Wrecker, Hunter, Tech and this Gonky,” he replied, gesturing to the droid on his back.

“I don’t really know what we’ll find down there,” Deke admitted. “But it probably won’t be pleasant.”

“Nothing ever is,” Hunter huffed a despondent sigh.

The journey down to the entrance was hard work. Their torches only lit up a few feet in front of them and it made the jungle seem to stretch out around them forever.

Wrecker tripped a couple of times, not used to having the weight of Gonky on his back and the ground was unfamiliar. “I don’t like this,” the big clone mumbled to himself.

“It is only going to get more stimulating once we are inside,” Tech informed him.

“Part o’ me thinks you’re enjoying this.”

“I have never seen flora that reacts like these, slither vines. There is an obvious connection within the plant itself, that allows it to deal with any threats swiftly and efficiently. I would really like to see the point of origin. Is it a single specimen that has spread over the entire building, or multiple plants that have grown and connected together?” Tech mused. “From what I have witnessed so far, it almost seems to be verging on sentience.” The group came to a stop but it took Tech three more paces before he realised he was the only one moving. “Is there a problem?” He asked, pausing to look at them over his shoulder.

Hunter shook his head, approaching Tech so he could pat his spaulder fondly. “No, no problem. It’s nice to see you so interested in something again.”

“Does it have to be killer vines though?” Wrecker groaned.

“I do not see anything else remotely interesting other than these vines,” Tech defended himself while feeling the ghost of a smile forming.

“You won’t be saying that when it’s crushing your ribs.” Wrecker knocked affectionately into Tech, nearly losing his balance in the process.

“At this rate, you will not make it to the lab in one piece. Or Gonky. And we need him.”

“Do you want to carry the droid?” Wrecker called over his shoulder. Now Tech did smile, rolling his eyes before following the others. It had been a while since they had had the energy to poke fun at each other.

“This is it,” Deke told them once they had caught up to him. “There’s slither vines everywhere in there. Interesting or not,” he said with a glance at Tech. “Be careful where you step.” He took the lead, with Hunter behind him, then Wrecker and Tech brought up the rear.

Tech looked up as they entered the large entrance of the compound. Vines climbed to the walls, slithering slowly along the ceiling and encroaching on the floor. They had to watch their feet carefully, making sure they didn’t touch any of the tendrils in their path.

“Fascinating,” Tech breathed. The vines seemed to be emitting noxious spores. Deke had mentioned the air here was toxic, clouds of it bloomed sporadically from random parts of the vines. Tech wanted a closer look but he couldn’t get distracted from the main objective.

Deke lead them in silence. Metal creaked above the group and Wrecker paused, his torch light wavering slightly. “I don’t like this,” he hissed to Tech. A deep rolling sound echoed down the corridor. “I really don’t like this.”

“How much further is the console?” Hunter growled. He was just as anxious as Wrecker, feeling that something was going to happen, deep in his gut. He never ignored that feeling.

“Hard to tell,” Deke answered. “More vines have spread down here. We had to stop scavenging the site because of it.”

Tech nudged Wrecker, getting an agitated growl in response before they continued. Hunter looked around, mulling over his next question. “What other experiments were going on in this place?”

“Nothing good. They didn’t exactly tell us what was going on.” Deke paused, swinging his light around.

“Do you hear that?” Tech asked. His visor came down but nothing showed up on the screen. He checked the datapad, tracing the spike in sounds with his eyes.

“Let’s keep moving,” Wrecker urged.

“Wait…” Hunter made them stop, casting his torch light around.

“The sounds…” Tech shook his head. “I assumed they were from an animal. But I was wrong.” He looked up as he spoke, noticing the activity in the plant had increased. “It is the vines.”

Deke cried out as his body hit the floor. Vines wrapped around his legs and began to drag him away. He was lifted into the air, Wrecker grabbed his arms to keep him within reach while Hunter sliced through the violent tendrils with his blade, until Deke dropped to the floor. They crowded together, weapons drawn looking for more vines ready to attack them.

“Look out!” Tech’s warning was just in time as a piece of the vine broke off and launched itself at Hunter. The blast rang out loudly, but vine creature seemed undamaged. It skitted away on misshapen legs, crawling into a hiding place.

“Go! Keep moving!” Hunter shouted.

“Still finding it interesting?”

Tech spared Wrecker a glance, the corners of his eyes creasing with his smile. “Even more so,” he admitted. “Did you see? It had thorns, like teeth.”

Wrecker groaned. “I didn’t. I’m going to have nightmares.”

Their pace eventually slowed as the corridor opened up. Tech looked up when they all stopped. A huge hole broke the roof apart, clearly a wound from the orbital bombardment. Stars littered the sky, a single piece of beauty in this rotten place.

“Ergh,” Wrecker was looking down, where the ground dropped away at their feet. Something bubbled and hissed, liquid oozed in the pit creating a putrid swamp that made even Tech’s eyes water. “I didn’t think it could smell any worse. But I was wrong.”

“We’re in agreement on that,” Hunter said, swinging his torch to further out.

“There’s the console,” Deke pointed to a control panel almost completely hidden by the debris from the roof. “Come on.” He dropped down first, followed by Tech. Then Hunter with Wrecker dropping last, the force of his extra mass created a ringing echo through the whole place.

One by one, they made it across, jumping from piece to piece until they reached the other side. Tech gestured to Wrecker and the pair of them lifted the durasteel strut, tossing it into the fetid quagmire where it sank down out of sight.

“I don’t even wanna know how deep that is,” Wrecker muttered to himself while Tech helped him shrug off Gonky.

The droid chatted a little and Tech inspected the console. Standard Imperial control panel, this would be easy enough to get data from. He pulled the lead from the console, plugging it into Gonky and feeding the battery droid’s power into it.

“Do your thing little guy,” Wrecker patted the droid.

“Well?” Hunter asked from the side, his torch roaming slowly over the swamp.

“Power has been restored. I will be able to download any information they left behind.” Tech plugged in his datapad to the console and started to cycle through the data.

“Something’s coming,” Hunter said slowly. “We need to make this quick.”

Wrecker went to stand next to him at the edge. “Is it more of those things?”

“No. Something…else.” Wrecker pulled out his knife, refusing to be caught unawares again.

Deke stood beside Tech. “I am familiar with this system, most of this data looks to be useless.”

“I am confident there will be something of note in here,” Tech informed him as he pressed another button and opened a separate file. “I just need time.”

A deep rumbling growl grated through the pit. The debris they were standing shifted and Tech adjusted his balance, spreading his legs wider. A large air bubble rose to the surface, exploding in a shower of rancid water and sludge.

Tech barely flinched when Hunter and Wrecker opened fire at whatever had snuck up behind him. Water splashed on his armour and the screen of the datapad, which he just wiped and carried on going through the data. The ground shifted beneath his feet, making him glance to the side. A huge tentacle rose out of the water, wider than Wrecker and set on crushing them all.

“Tech!” Hunter shouted, his armour lit up by the blaster bolts as he fired. “Times up!”

It wasn’t enough to go through everything, but Tech could definitely see his time had run out. Wrecker hastily grabbed Gonky, attaching him back onto the harness while Tech unplugged him from the console. He tucked the datapad away and pulled his own blasters. Deke was talking into his com, backing away, no doubt asking his brothers for help.

“Look out!” Wrecker shouted and the group split. A tentacle came crashing down, Tech’s eyes widened when he saw it wasn’t the limb of some creature. This was a thick vine, twisted and gnarled by whatever experiments it had been subjected to. Tech stood there for a moment, watching the vine rise up once more ready to crash down again.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Hunter’s shout made him move, following the others to climb up and out. The vine came down again, dislodging the durasteel they were climbing. Deke cried out. He began to fall but Hunter reacted quickly, lunging forward to grab his ankle before he went completely out of sight. Tech jumped over, getting to his knees to help pull the cadet up, shooting at the vine at the same time to deter it striking again.

“In here!” They followed Wrecker into another corridor only to be faced with more putrid water. A vine pursued, attempting to seek them out and only getting hot blaster bolts in return. It made the vine recoil, but Tech could see it did no real damage.

Hunter looked behind them, silently making the decision to jump to the floating debris and the others followed. They kept firing as more vines appeared out of the water.

“It’s everywhere!” Deke cried. Tech wasn’t beginning to see a way of this until they were bathed in light.

Light from the Marauder.

The cadets in the ship lowered the cables, but they couldn’t stop firing. Hunter threw one of the little vine crawlers off his arm and Tech shot it. They needed to get on the ship and move it out of the reach of the vines.

“Go!” Deke didn’t hesitate. Grabbing a cable the same time as Wrecker. They both started to lift, Hunter swiftly looked up, shoving Tech towards the cable and shot at a thick vine. He grabbed it, holding on with one hand and his feet, still shooting while Hunter jumped to grab the very end of the cable just in time.

“Osik.” A very fitting word Tech felt, for the current situation. Vines wrapped around the wings of his ship, his grip almost slipping on the cable as he climbed up as fast as he could. The engines struggled against the strength of the vines, flaring with a whine to keep the ship in the air.

“What is that?” Tech looked down at Wrecker’s gasp and realised his assumption at it being just a plant, was incorrect. A circle of serrated teeth rose ominously from the black water. Snarls rumbled through the air as they waved in anticipation of a meal.

“Aim for the mouth!” The cadets started shooting but it made no difference. The creature wasn’t letting go. Tech carried on climbing, heaving himself over the edge of the opening and into the ship.

“We need more firepower!” Hunter yelled through the com as the ship groaned, listing to the side and nearly throwing Tech and the cadets off their feet.

“Incoming.” Tech quickly dragged out the case of explosives, tossing one to a cadet who caught it easily. Mox helped Tech move the crate, giving one last push to ease it over the edge and straight into the open maw of the breast. Stak leaned out, activating the thermal detonator before dropping it down with the rest of the explosives.

Time seemed to stand still as the explosive beeped its count down, rattling round the teeth of the creature until it was finally sucked in with the rest. A bright yellow glow lit it up from within, billowing outwards with the force of the explosion and the vines dropped limply away from the ship.

Tech was already in the pilots chair, pulling away as Hunter and Wrecker pulled themselves up and into the ship.

“I’ve never been so happy to leave a planet before,” Wrecker moaned from the floor. The cadets worked together to free him of Gonky, gently easing to droid to his feet.

Hunter leaned against the hull. He pushed off his helmet, breathing heavily as he regarded his brother. “I dunno,” he said. “It didn’t seem that bad to me.” Wrecker laughed. Hysteria mingled with relief, and Hunter joined in. A sound that hadn’t been heard since you had been taken. He eventually helped Wrecker off the floor, who cracked his back and rolled his shoulders.

“I miss Stitch.” He said that every time his body ached, desperate for the moment he could ask you to do that thing you did with his neck and your hands.

Tech punched the ship into lightspeed, keen to start filtering through the data they had downloaded.

“Did you get much?” Deke asked eagerly.

“I am about to find out.” Tech plugged the datapad in and they both watched the information scroll onto the screen. “It will take me a while to sort through it all.”

“Kids! You hungry?” The boys gravitated to Wrecker who had got the ration box out in the cockpit and started sharing the food around.

Hunter watched them for a beat, a small relieved smile on his face before he turned to watch Tech. “Want some help?”

“It will not take me long,” Tech answered, adjusting his goggles and tapping on the controls of his datapad. “It keeps my mind occupied.”

Hunter nodded. He knew Tech needed this, needed to feel busy. The few days after you had been taken were Tech’s worst. But straight after Omega, he shut off completely. This visit to Setron had been the first time Hunter had finally seen an inkling of his brother shining through the blankness. It had been unnerving, like he was travelling with someone he didn’t know. Hunter supposed this was all new to them, these feelings. Tech most of all.

He walked through to the cockpit, listening to Wrecker tell the boys some tales from the war. He found himself relaxing, joining in with the details because Wrecker only seemed to remember the glorious explosions. They talked about the droids, their memories of Kamino. Because at the end of it all, it had been their home.

Hunter stiffened when Tech came through, the datapad in his hand and a look in his eye. “You found something?”

“I have,” Tech started. “But it could be nothing. I have scoured all the data downloaded, Hemlock transferred his entire base of operations and his experiments to a new location. He never recorded if Omega and Stitch were there, but he does mention a sector.”

“That’s great!” Wrecker’s face split into a beaming smile.

“Still means we have a lot of space to cover,” Hunter said. “But it’s something.”

“Yeah it is!” Stak stumbled under the weight of Wrecker’s joyful back slap.

“It is certainly a lead we cannot ignore,” Tech added.

“What about us?” Deke asked.

Hunter leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees. “We’ll drop you three off someplace safe. There are good people there, they’ll take care of you.”

“We’re cadets without an army,” Mox sighed. “I don’t know where we fit anymore.”

“You have time to figure it out,” Hunter told them. “Make your own path. Be something other than a soldier.” The war was over. The Republic was finished. He could help these boys to live a normal life, something so many of the clones would never have the chance to experience for themselves.

“What about you?” Mox inquired.

“Our mission is not over yet.”

“Not until we have Omega and Stitch back on this ship,” Wrecker growled.

“Back where they belong,” Hunter stated firmly, meeting his brother’s eyes, both of them nodding in agreement.

“We could help…” Stak started but Hunter shook his head.

“You’ve suffered enough and this is our mission.”

“Why? Worried you’ll miss us,” Wrecker joked, nudging Deke hard enough so he stumbled into Mox.

“It doesn’t feel right,” Stak continued, his nose scrunching slightly. “To sit back and do nothing.”

“Ah, get used to it kid.” Wrecker kicked his leg up, planting it on the console and leaning back in the chair. “As soon as you see those blue waters and those big, big fish. You’ll never want to leave.” The boys all turned to him, asking questions in a jumbled mass that made the large clone chuckle to himself before he began to tell them all about Pabu.

#sanctuary #sanctuary part 2 #tech x you #tech x f!reader #tech x reader #the bad batch #tech the bad batch #bad batch fanfic #star wars fanfiction

16 notes · View notes