#Multi turn Charge Attack | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-court-of-fics-and-errors · 1 month

Text

Hold Still

Hey everyone! I’m excited to share a new *possibly* multi-part fic with you all. Not sure how long it’ll be or how many parts, but I’m using this as a chance to sharpen my skills, especially with fight scenes and coordination. I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback!

Content Warning: Descriptions of violence

Summary: Set against the backdrop of brutal war, Azriel and the OC are faced with death, destruction, and decay. As the final horn signals victory for the Illyrians and surrender of the Autumn Court, the tension between the two of them is undeniable. But with every swing of the sword, every life taken, the real battle is waged within their hearts. Will they find the courage to face the truths they've buried, or will the war inside consume them both?

“That’s fourteen!” I shout, watching as another soldier crumples to the ground, his last breath rattling out.

Azriel whips around, shoving an attacker away with the flat side of his sword. A grunt escaping him. “How are you at fourteen already?” He calls back a slight whine of disbelief.

I barely have time to shrug before another soldier barrels toward me, sword raised high. I duck just in time, the blade whistling over my head. In one swift motion, I kick out, sending him sprawling into the muck. Before he can recover, I drive my sword through his torso. “Make that fifteen!”

All around us, chaos reigns. Screams and groans blend with the relentless clash of steel. Bodies fall, splattering the mud with blood as boots churn the ground, desperate to flee. The rain lashes down, turning the battlefield into a mire — of all the days for a storm, this one was the worst.

I take a moment, catching by breath to take in the scene. Carnage and brutality everywhere, and here I stood in the thick of it, utterly enthralled.

Azriel finally manages to bring down his opponent with a vicious swing, the male’s body hitting the ground with a wet thud. Chest heaving, Azriel wipes his muddy face with a forearm, caked in someone’s blood, though it’s impossible to tell if it’s his or his enemies, smearing the grime together. His black hair, soaked and plastered to his forehead, makes him look more beast than male.

I gesture to the corpse at our feet with me sword, “What’s that one?”

Azriel glanced down at him too, panting, as he squints at me through the downpour of rain. “Seven.” He gowls, venom lacing the word.

A smirk tugs at my lips. “Bummer,” I quip. “You’ve got a long way to catch up.”

Azriel’s eyes widen and I barely have time to react before I spin around, raising my broadsword just in time to block a descending battle axe. The force of the blow sends me crashing to the ground. The male wielding it is a giant, towering over me by at least a foot, his muscles ripping and glistening with rain under his armor.

Before he can strike again, I roll through the mud, feeling it cake onto my armor and hair. I spring to my feet just as his axe swings down again, barely missing me. I thrust my sword towards his midsection, but despite his bulk, he dodges with surprising speed. He swings the axe around, gaining momentum and I leap back, avoiding the blow — only to hear the sickening crunch as it buries into an Illyrian soldier beside me. The soldier crumples, and the giant glares at me, seemingly frustrated by the wasted swing.

He lets out a guttural roar, his mouth visible through the slit of his helmet, and the surrounding fighters seem to back away to give us space.

I almost laugh at the dramatics. As he charges, his feet sloshing in the mud, I sidestep, narrowly avoiding his swing. What he has in brute strength, I counter with speed. In a flash, I’m behind him, seizing the opportunity set before me. I leap onto his back, wrapping my arms around his thick neck as he lets out a furious growl. I pull my knife from its sheath, slicing through the soft flesh of his throat. Blood spurts out, and he drops his axe, clawing at his neck as he gurgles for breath. I shove him forward with a well placed kick, sending him crashing face-first into the muck. The crowd parts as his lifeless body hits the ground.

I turn back to Azriel, flashing him a grin. “Sixteen.”

The battle waged on for hours. Wave after wave of soldiers from both sides coming to aid the ones who had fallen. The rain continued to pour down in sloshes, turning the mud more into just dirty, brown water that caused us all to slip and slide our way across the battlefield. Azriel and I split up after a time, seeming to find a rhythm amongst the slaughter. As the sun began to dip behind the mountain, a loud horn echoed across the field. The fighting ceased, all eyes turning toward a rider on a ridge. Beside him, a bloodied man blew through an ox horn, while the rider waved a white flag with desperate urgency. Illyrian chants of victory erupted, and the enemy began a hasty, disorganized retreat, scrambling up the mountain to their side.

A smile is plastered on my face as I looked around at the celebration. We were all nearly unrecognizable, caked in mud, exhaustion etched into every line of our faces. Some soldiers collapsed to their knees, utterly spent, while others began the grim task of searching for comrades—some finding only lifeless bodies.

A few soldiers clapped me on the shoulder, congratulating me on a hard-fought battle. I returned their smiles, sharing in the camaraderie. As we turned to cross back into our territory, I sheathed my sword and made my way across the carnage, offering what aid I could to the wounded lying in the muck, their moans for mercy cutting through the still air. The killing field is no place for the faint of heart, but it’s all I’ve known. Sometimes, the best mercy is a quick end to suffering.

Another hour passed before I finally crested our hill, the Illyrian encampment sprawled out below. Tents dotted the horizon, fires already flickering against the darkening sky.

I descended into the village of tents, sniffling as I tried to wipe away the grime that seemed to have settled deep into my sinuses. Soldiers lined up outside the healers’ tent, many with minor wounds, watching as others were carted in with missing limbs or exposed guts. Those waiting for treatment turned their gazes away, silently praying for the Mother to be merciful to their fallen brothers.

I headed toward my tent in the center of camp, eager to shed the armor that clung to my skin beneath layers of mud. Some soldiers were more interested in a hot meal than getting clean, gathering around campfires with bowls of stew, the only clean part of them the whites of their eyes.

The time after battle is always strange. On one hand, there’s the celebration of victory and glory, Illyrian soldiers basking in honor, blinded by their own egos as they drink and boast about their feats. On the other, there’s the mourning for lost brothers and the groans of the wounded, their pain filling the night air. In truth, everyone hopes to be on the former side of the party.

I trudge through the muddy ground, my boots heavy with water and mud. I finally make my way back to my tent, raised up on a small platform. As I approach, I notice that the boots I left out this morning are filled to the brim with rain. Annoyed, I sneer at them before picking one up and turning it over, watching as water cascades out of it. With a huff, I give it a good shaking to get the droplets out before discarding the shoe entirely. Not for right now, I can deal with it later.

I duck under the flap of the tent, squinting against the sudden brightness of fae light inside. A sigh escapes my lips as I take in my surroundings. "Tired?" Azriel's voice startles me, and I jump, feeling my heart leap into my throat.

"Gods, Azriel. What the fuck?" I gasp, hand instinctively flying to my chest where my heart is still pounding wildly.

Azriel chuckles from his spot on my cot, sprawled out comfortably with his armor already removed and his face freshly cleaned. His feet are crossed at the ankles and he leans against the wall of the tent, wearing a mischievous grin.

Rolling my eyes, I begin unstrapping my chest plate with practiced ease. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?" I ask pointedly as the heavy metal piece falls to the floor with a dull thud. Moving onto my shoulder plates, I continue, "A meeting or some kind of briefing?"

Azriel watches me closely, shadows looming and snaking under the cot and near the ceiling. "Already done," he notes casually.

I tie my shoulder plates together as I carefully pull them off and then bend down to work on my thighs and calves. "What? Were you the first one off the field?" I inquire, trying not to wince as my left leg gives way under the weight of my armor. The only injury I'd received during the battle was a deep slash to the back of my leg, but it had mostly healed by now. Still, as the blood rushes back into it after releasing the bindings, it begins to throb slightly.

"I was close to the edge," he remarks back "Total count?"

With some effort, I manage to get off my other leg and finally kick off my soaked boots, letting out a disgusted groan as I peel off the wet wool socks that are caked in mud and debris. "Eighty six," I answer, tossing the socks into a forgotten corner of the tent before working on removing my undershirt. It sticks to my skin uncomfortably, and I grimace as I struggle to peel it off.

Azriel discreetly looks away, even though we have known each other for over two centuries and have fought in countless battles together. We've tended to each other's wounds and have had our fair share of near-death experiences, yet he still feels uncomfortable seeing me change. It's silly, really. And I can't resist teasing him about being such a prude. As I continue getting changed, Azriel pulls out a knife that I had left on my cot this morning and starts spinning it on his finger, pretending to inspect it although I know he has no real interest in it.

I grasp the washbasin from its place in the corner of the tent, bracing myself for the frigid water that awaits me. Despite the chill, it feels refreshing against my skin as I use the cloth inside to scrub away the grim remains of the battlefield. "You?" I ask casually, sloshing the brownish water around.

Azriel doesn't even bother turning to face me. "Seventy-five," he replies flatly.

I let out a snort of disbelief. "That's all?"

Azriel doesn't even bother turning to face me. "Seventy-five," he replies flatly.

I let out a snort of disbelief. "That's all?"

His brow furrows in irritation and for a moment, he forgets that I'm standing here completely naked. His gaze shifts to mine, ready to challenge my teasing, but his face turns red and he quickly looks back at the knife, feigning interest. "It's ten less than you," he retorts.

"Eleven," I correct him, ringing out the now filthy rag. Despite my efforts, there's no way this rag will fully cleanse me. But I refuse to go to the communal baths where Illyrian males take the opportunity to compare their bodies like trophies.

Azriel rolls his eyes. "Cassian got ninety-one," he notes.

I scoff in annoyance. "Of course he did." I continue scrubbing at my skin until it begins to resemble its usual cream color rather than the rusted hue of dried blood. "Well now that you've told me, should I go piss him off and tell him I got ninety-two?" I raise an eyebrow in amusement.

Azriel lets out a chuckle. "I think he'd know."

"Yeah," I agree with a grin. "But imagine the look on his face when I tell him." Another laugh escapes Azriel as I finish cleaning myself off as best as I can. Despite shivering from the cold water, I feel relieved to no longer smell like death. I quickly dress myself in a black long-sleeved shirt and loose-fitting tan trousers, sliding on clean wool socks and I almost purr over their warmth.

Another chuckle escapes Azriel's lips as he finally faces me fully. I bring over the washbasin and sit on the cot in front of him, brush in hand. "Here," I say, handing him the brush.

He shifts his legs slightly to make room for me to slide between them, my wings lying limp on his thighs. Placing the bowl between us, he dips the brush into the water as I work on undoing the tight braid I had put my hair in before battle. Once freed, I shake out my hair, still stiff and matted from the mud and blood that coated it.

Azriel runs the brush through the water again before gently working it through my hair, untangling the knots and snarls with a practiced hand. We have done this countless times, a ritual born out of necessity but now feels like second nature. He combs out my hair from our battlefield, silently ridding it of any reminders of death and destruction that we had witnessed today.

Despite our joking, there is a heaviness that settles between us after each battle. The weight of loss and pain hardens our souls a little more each time. But in moments like this, when Azriel's touch is gentle and soothing and we both find solace in the simple act of sitting in silence together, it eases some of that burden off our shoulders.

We sit there in silence for what feels like hours, the only sounds in the tent being the occasional soft splash of the brush in the water bowl and the faint sniffles that I can’t seem to hold back as the dampness of the battlefield settles into my lungs. Azriel’s fingers move methodically through the tangles in my hair, each stroke careful and gentle, as if he’s trying to untangle more than just knots. Finally, he runs his hand down the length of my hair one final time, and I shudder slightly at the lingering warmth in his touch as his arm barely grazes my wing.

“There,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper as he hands the brush to me over my shoulder.

I feel him shifting behind me, the warmth of his legs disappearing from around my hips as he slips off the cot. I pull my hair over my shoulders, running my own fingers through it, searching for any lasting tangles or knots he might have missed. Azriel stands and picks up the bowl of now soiled water. He carries it to the entrance of the tent, dumping it outside before placing it on the small table that stands above my haphazardly piled armor.

He lingers for a moment, his back to me, before turning with a small, almost wistful smile. “You should get some sleep,” he remarks softly.

I manage a smile in return, but it feels fragile. “You should too.”

Azriel sighs and kneels to slide his foot into his boot, methodically lacing it up. His focus on the task seems deliberate and I watch him. I knows he feels my stare but he seems to be unwilling to meet it.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” I ask, pulling my knees up to my chest. The dampness of the rag and my now wet hair sends a chill through me

Azriel doesn’t look up, his fingers moving with practiced precision as he laces his other boot. “They surrendered,” he says, his voice flat, “so I imagine some of the battalion will head home, and others will stay to finalize things.”

“And you?” My voice comes out softer than I intend, the sadness seeping into the edges of my words despite my best efforts to contain it.

He glances up at me from beneath his lashes, the faintest hint of regret in his eyes. “I’ll probably have to stay. At least until everything is settled.”

I nod, feeling a hollow ache in my chest that I know all too well. This always happens—the battle ends, and we part ways, yet the emptiness it leaves behind is as sharp as ever. I wonder if he feels it too, if that same hollow ache gnaws at him. Maybe I even hope he does.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks, his voice softer now, as if he’s unsure of the answer.

I force a small smile and nod. He returns the smile with one of his own. He reaches out, his scarred hand brushing through my damp hair in a gesture that feels both comforting and final. “Get some sleep,” he instructs, his tone gentle yet firm.

“You do the same,” I reply, trying to inject some sarcasm into my voice, though we both know the truth. He never sleeps well—especially not when battle looms or still rings in his ears.

He turns, ducking under the flaps of the tent that scrape over the tips of his wings, and then he’s gone.

I scoot down, burrowing under the warm comfort of the woolen blankets on my cot, trying to capture the lingering warmth Azriel left behind. Stupid, I think to myself, cursing the hollow ache that settles in my chest. The battle is won. Lives have been saved. Soldiers have lost comrade, and families will be mourning those who won’t return. And yet here I am, wallowing in the thought that I won’t see Azriel for a while. It feels wrong, even selfish to yearn for more time on the battlefield — where death is a constant companion — just to be near him. But there’s a twisted logic to it, one that I’ve never been able to shake.

Here, amidst the chaos of war, I feel closest to who I truly am. There’s a strange comfort in the clang of steel, the rush of adrenaline, the clarity that comes when you’re fighting to keep yourself alive. I belong here, more than I ever did anywhere else. But it’s more than jus the thrill of battle that keeps me tethered to this life. It’s him. It’s always been him.

When I close my eyes, memories of our childhood flood back with startling clarity. I can still see that little boy, covered in mud, his newly scarred hands clutching his practice sword with a determination that seemed far to heavy for someone so young. I remember the way he’d trudge back through the woods after long days of training, his brothers flanking him.

We were just children, barely old enough to hold a blade, let alone wield one. But in those early days at the training camp, we found an understanding in one another that I’ve never found with anyone else. I was a girl who refused to be confined to the laundry tent, who fought tooth and nail to be allowed to train alongside the boys. But it was Azriel who recognized the fire in me that refused to be doused.

I can still picture him standing across from me in the training ring, his face smeared with dirt and a gleam of challenge in his eyes. “You’re not going to go easy on me, are you?” I taunted, though we both knew the answer. He never did. And that’s why I respected him, why I fought harder, pushed myself further. Because he never treated my like I was fragile. He treated me like an equal, and that made all the difference.

Azriel kept me safe, not in the way that others might have — shielding me from the dangers of the battlefield — but ensuring I had a chance to prove myself in the first place. He kept the other males at bay, those who would have preferred to see me tucked away in some corner, doing the “proper” work for a female. But I wasn’t meant for that life. I earned my place in the battalion, fought for it with every ounce of strength I had, but I know without Azriel’s advocation for me in the background, I would have never been given the chance.

He didn’t just protect me; he believed in me. And that belief—his belief—has carried me through the darkest moments, through the bloodshed and the loss, through the countless battles we’ve fought side by side. It’s why the thought of him leaving, of us going our separate ways once more, feels like a wound that won’t heal. Because when I’m with Azriel, I’m not just a soldier. I’m the girl who survived, who fought against the odds, who found her place in a world that tried to reject her. And I can’t help but wonder, without him, would I still feel like that girl? Or would I lose myself in the quiet, in the peace that I’ve never known how to embrace?

I sigh, forcing myself to push the thoughts away, but they cling to me like the dampness in the air. The emptiness of the tent seems to grow, pressing in on me as I curl deeper into the blankets, trying to chase away the cold that’s seeped into my bones. But it’s not the chill of the night that haunts me. It’s the fear that without Azriel, without the battles that keep us together, I’ll lose the only part of myself that’s ever felt truly alive.

Sill to think about all of this now. Azriel was always destined for more — more than just battles and training camps. He was meant to stand beside the High Lord, to be something greater than either of us could have imagined when we were just children, scraping through the mud and swinging wooden swords. But that knowledge doesn’t make the memories any less sharp, the pain any less real.

I can still see the way his eyes avoided mine as we sat on that mountain ridge, the sun setting behind us and casting long shadows over the valley. He told me he was leaving to go serve in Velaris, to take up the role he was always meant for, and I wish I had let myself cry. I wish I had let that anger I felt seething beneath my skin boil over, wish I had let him see the betrayal that twisted in my gut. But instead, I swallowed it all down, letting the pride I had for him overshadow everything else.

He was going to Velaris, to serve the High Lord, to be part of something bigger than us. And in that moment, he offered me a place by his side—not as an equal in battle, but as a companion, someone who could be there with him through the long meetings, the endless discussions, the political maneuvering that I had never cared for. He wanted me there, wanted me close. But when I looked into his eyes, I knew it would never be enough for me.

How could I sit in those meetings, wasting away in some grand hall while the world outside still raged? How could I let all I had worked for, all I had bled for, be reduced to a mere presence in the room? I was meant to fight, to wield steel, to make a difference on the battlefield, not to fade into the background of someone else's story. And I knew that if I went with him, if I followed him to Velaris, I would lose the part of myself that mattered most—the part that fought tooth and nail to be recognized, to be respected, to be more than just another girl who didn't belong.

So I let him go. I forced a smile, told him I was proud, told him he was meant for greater things. But deep down, I wished I had screamed at him, wished I had told him that I needed him just as much as Velaris did, that I wasn’t ready to let him go. I wish I had fought for him the way I had fought for everything else in my life. But instead, I let the moment pass, let him walk away with the belief that I was fine with it. That I could be content with what little I had left.

But the truth is, I wasn’t. And I never will be.

It wasn’t worth reminiscing on what could have been, daydreaming about a world where I saw him every day, where his presence alone would make everything brighter. How much more I would laugh, how much stronger I might be with him by my side. But I knew those thoughts were nothing more than illusions, comforting lies I told myself in the dark hours of the night. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be.

Even though I sometimes let myself wonder—what if he would drop everything to come back to me? What if he would choose me over duty, over the weight of the world that he carries on his scarred shoulders? But even as those thoughts flickered to life, I knew the truth: asking that of him would be too selfish, too unfair. He was meant for greater things, things that went beyond the confines of my own desires.

I couldn’t let my longing become a chain around his neck, dragging him down when he was meant to soar. The idea of him giving up everything—his purpose, his honor—just to be with me was a fantasy, one that would only lead to resentment and regret. And I couldn’t bear to be the reason he fell short of his potential, couldn’t bear to be the one who held him back from the destiny he was meant to fulfill.

So, I pushed those thoughts away, buried them deep where they couldn’t hurt me—or him. It was better this way, I told myself, even if it left me feeling hollow and alone. Better to let him go, to let him be the warrior, the hero, the shadow in the night, even if it meant I had to face the darkness alone. I closed my eyes, pushing my face into my pillow and let sleep come to me, in it’s slow sluggish pursuit.

#Azriel #Azriel x OC #ACOTAR #A Court of Thorns and Roses #Angst #Fluff #acotar fanfiction

35 notes · View notes

dreaminginthedeepsouth · 2 months

Text

Mike Luckovich

* * * *

Defying the odds, Trump steals spotlight from JD Vance (and not in a good way)

August 1, 2024

Robert B. Hubbell

Trump's interview at the National Association of Black Journalists convention was an unmitigated disaster of campaign-altering dimensions. The only person in the US happy with Trump's miserable performance was JD Vance—who will enjoy a few minutes out of the spotlight.

It is easy to mock Trump for his calamitous interview—and we should. Taking Trump down a few notches by making clear that he is a cringe-worthy, awkward, bloviating narcissist is a good development. But he is also filled with rage, prejudice, and hate, as his answers make clear. Both aspects of Trump's 32-minute interview deserve to be highlighted—because both demonstrate that he is unfit for office (or even for polite company).

Aaron Rupar has compiled a ten-minute “super-cut” of the interview that is worth watching in its entirety. See YouTube, Trump self-immolates at National Association Black Journalists convention: a supercut.

Rachel Scott of ABC began the interview by asking Trump a tough question about Trump's prior statements about minorities, which sent Trump into a black hole of rage. Scott asked,

You have pushed false claims about people like President Barack Obama, saying he was not born in the United States, which is not true. You have told four congresswomen, women of color who were American citizens, to go back to where they came from. You have used words like ‘animal’ to describe Black district attorneys. You've attacked Black journalists, calling them a loser, saying the questions that they ask are quote, ‘stupid and racist.’ You've had dinner with a white supremacist at Mar-a-Lago. So my question, sir, now that you are asking Black supporters to vote for you, why should Black voters trust you after you have used language like that?

Trump never recovered from that question, immediately pivoting to attacking Rachel Scott as “rude,” “nasty,” and “horrible,” saying that she worked for “fake news ABC.”

Among the many horrible things Trump said during the interview was to question Kamala Harris’s identification as a Black woman and an Indian woman. Mother Jones covered Trump's challenge to Kamala Harris’s identity with this headline: White Man Tells Black Journalists His Black Opponent Is Not Black. Trump said,

She was always of Indian heritage. She was only promoting Indian heritage, I didn’t know she was Black until a number of years ago when she happened to turn Black, and now she wants to be known as Black. So I don’t know, is she Indian or is she Black?

After offending Black Americans, Indian Americans, and all multi-racial Americans, Trump doubled-down on his insensitive comments by posting on Truth Social the following statement:

Crazy Kamala is saying she's Indian, not Black. This is a big deal. Stone cold phony. She uses everybody, including her racial identity!

Racial identity is a sensitive and personal issue. Trump not only failed to show any sensitivity or understanding, but he also tried to shame Kamala Harris for her identity as a daughter of a Black father and an Indian mother. Based on social media posts and statements by Trump surrogates, it is clear the campaign believes that focusing on Kamala Harris’s racial identity is a winning strategy. Only a white billionaire living in a bubble of sycophants would believe that strategy will increase his chances of election.

Trump also said he would pardon January 6 insurrectionists convicted of beating police officers and that he would give immunity to police officers charged with killing citizens.

None of the above captures Trump's boorish, insulting, aggressive behavior toward the three Black female journalists who attempted to interview him. You should watch the video to see that behavior. At one point, Trump reached over to take the bottle of water belonging to Rachel Scott, appearing to screw the lid tightly—apparently to make it difficult for Scott to open the bottle (?). Whatever the reason, it was a weird, aggressive way to act out Trump's anger toward Scott.

Most importantly, the event reminded us of the daily chaos and ugly confrontations that typified life during the Trump administration. The Harris campaign issued a statement that made that point:

Statement on Donald Trump Showing Exactly Who He Is at NABJ

The hostility Donald Trump showed on stage today is the same hostility he has shown throughout his life, throughout his term in office, and throughout his campaign for president as he seeks to regain power and inflict his harmful Project 2025 agenda on the American people. Trump lobbed personal attacks and insults at Black journalists the same way he did throughout his presidency-while he failed Black families and left the entire country digging out of the ditch he left us in. Donald Trump has already proven he cannot unite America, so he attempts to divide us. Today's tirade is simply a taste of the chaos and division that has been a hallmark of Trump's MAGA rallies this entire campaign. It's also exactly what the American people will see from across the debate stage as Vice President Harris offers a vision of opportunity and freedom for all Americans. All Donald Trump needs to do is stop playing games and actually show up to the debate on September 10.

Trump and Vance are both stumbling as Kamala Harris projects confidence and inspires enthusiasm. That does not guarantee that we will win, but it certainly places Democrats in a strong position for the last 97 days of the campaign.

Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter

#Mike Luckovich #political cartoon #TFG #racism #project 2025 #Robert B.Hubbell #robert b. hubbell newsletter #racist #election 2024 #unfit #demented #National Association of Black Journalists #journalism

28 notes · View notes

melloianv2 · 4 months

Text

I have nothing else to post on this account 🥰so I just made this to not be a dead account.

Goofy aaaah conpect painted all over (no models so this is what I got :((()

The artstyle meant to be a mix of btd5 and btd6

If you want to read a entire wall of paragraphs about gameplay and little storyline explaining (not all the way), then press read more. If not, have a nice day

This idea has been done before, however I wanted to do my version.

RPG is an prequel spinoff game that takes place after 5 and before 6. The gameplay is kind of similar to mario rabbids.

The games have about 6 games in total. and all the games are connected.

~ Ingame gameplay ~

The player usually play as the player monkey, and the character cannot be switched out.

The player usually have to pick 5 units, and their not spammable. Once 5 units are chosen, they automatically placed in-game. The game is turn-based, as the player goes first.

Players do not immediately attack the enemies, they have to make their way to the enemy in order to attack them. Meaning they have to make their units travel. Enemies also travel closer to attack.

Player has the manually pick each monkey to move a specific spot. Or attack. However, the player can skip an turn.

Some enemies spawn on top of obstacles or heights. In order to attack those enemies, the player will have to use one unit to lift up the other unit to toss them up there. which takes both units turns. But if a unit can fly, they can just fly over.

Each unit have different percentage of health, depending on the unit or level. SP stands for special power, CA is for different abilities. (fgor what ca stands for again 😭)

Hp is important in the game, its the way to keep your units alive. If one unit is out, the game still keeps going. But if all the units are downed, it's gameover. Getting rid of all the enemies is a win.

To get sp or ca, it charges up as the rounds go. Once it gets to its max, its ready to be used. Rounds how many turns went on.

Using a special ability usually takes up that unit turn. they must do it when not making a move.

Some units do not move, and only stay in one place. those are not placed down automatically, and the player has to manually place them down.

Each game has an adjective to be completed. This includes bosses as well. They do not have to be completed, but completing all of it gives better rewards.

There's a time in the game, usually to tell how long you spent on a level. However, some times the time is replaced with a timer countdown, which are timed battles. Not clearing all the adjectives in time is an gameover.

Once a game is completed, the player is awarded with monkey money, materials or equipment.

All levels are replayable

~ Units game ~

Now about the units itself, each is picked in the units menu. They have 5 slots available. It can be the same unit for every slot, but recommend not to do that. In order to get units, its either completing levels as the player go, events, achievement or buying them.

Units are usually monkeys, animals (later on) or machines.

There are like classes and elements. Its not the same like btd6

Classes are:

Melee

Range

Magic

Defense

Support

Antiair

Water

Multi (combination of 2 or more classes.

Elements are:

Normal

Fire

Water

Dark

Light

Nature

Electric

Technology

Then there's special units which are called, Helpers, Specialties and Reinforce. All have their own slot, which is only one.

They are usually stronger than units. they either be brought or earn from minibosses.

Equipment is usually used for making damages or defense better on units.

Units also gain exp and may even level up after a level completion. Once a unit levels up, they gain an knowledge. knowledge is for picking certain pathway for an unit to go. like dart -> triple dart or something like that. The player can manually level their units up if they gain points.

~ Ingame other ~

Unlike other games, there is an overworld for the player to explore. They usually explore with the player monkey. In the overworld, it just usually just to travel to the next level or location. The overworld expands when the player unlocks a new location. They can fast travel there. The overworld serves as giving lore, side quests, cutscenes or just to go to the next level. There is a main menu just to quickly go to the next level, but you cannot earn sidequests there.

~storyline and lores~

Now, the games have their own stories. each game has their own theme. Which each the main character is always the player monkey, the character that becomes the hero later, and the companion that learns along the way.

I pretty much somewhat following some lore, but also doing my own thing at the same time without going overboard. Though the rpg sequels starts becoming less and less orderly but instead becomes more and more chaotic.

Examples of the rpg games:

Rpg - Spirits and death

Rpg 2 - Nature and self-discovery

Rpg 3 - War and Deception

Rpg 4 - Modem Technology

Rpg 5 - Parallel Universe and Outcasts

Rpg 6 - Multiversal destruction and Difference

Despite the themes, all the games connect in some way or another leading to RPG 6 existence.

5 and 6 is the only ones who doesn't follow the main characters format.

Now, notice i didn't say heroes during units section. Well in this game series, the idea of heroes were still developing as the heroes were still in training. At the time, no one was an hero in the first rpg. they was either a specialty, agent, helper, reinforce, military or nothingburger (basically a nobody)

Heroes to seem like monkeys with a special title of higher rank whose gets paid. Not that is a bad thing what so ever, but i wanted to make it a bit different here. When someone becomes an hero, its because they did something heroic. Which each game does.

Heroes are usually earned during playing the game. but onwards, previous heroes has to be brought.

Hero characters are coming to the game, however not all of them.

The Heroes that are coming in Rpg series:

Quincy, Gwen, Ezili, Striker jones, Obyn, Captain Churchill, Admiral Brickell, Benjamin, Pat fusty, Adora

Heroes that are not coming to rpg

Etienne - naw (maybe?)

Geraldo- No

Sauda - originally was going be in, had entire storyline dedicated to her. but decided not too.

Psi - child getting physically beaten up on screen is crazy, i don't think the monkeys allowing that

Corvus - the entire rpg storyline wouldn't exist (/j)

Rosalia - I don't wanna

Heroes in rpg series are not immediately op and solo everyone (not every hero strong but still). They are weaker than their btd6 counterpart. Reasoning is in training. (the only one who isn't weaker than their btd6 counterpart is Adora. She stronger than btd6 counterpart. she also the only hero where she cannot be brought or used in slots. She only can be played in certain levels. just like sun god)

Heroes also had a different look in rpg games, indicating its the past. The only ones who design doesn't change is obyn, brickell, chruchill, pat fusty and jones.

Heroes are usually important in the game, as some of them are main characters. Some are side characters (pat fusty, Gwen and Quincy (until rpg 4)). Usually in their own games

Rpg 1: Ezili

Rpg 2: Obyn

Rpg 3: Brickell, Churchill, Jones

Rpg 4: Quincy and Benjamin

Rpg 5: Parallel counterpart

Rpg 6: All (mostly importantly adora and ezili (again))

Gwen and Pat is the only ones who became heroes off-screen. Adora never became one until btd6.

Enough about the heroes

Now let's talk about other things I didn't mention.

Enemies!

Of course by default, bloons are the enemies. However they are not the Main Antagonist of any of the stories. but they are still an enemy. Though they are actually a threat and more than an nuisance. from ambushing, to kidnapping to destruction. not as insane when one actual spinoff game did the same thing.

However, who is the main antagonist? Well, its either monkeys or an entity. nk claims monkey don't fight each other, naw am going do mental gymnastics to make it where monkeys did. Rpg 3, 5, 6 were monkeys awhile rpg 1 is a ghost, rpg 2 and 4 is entities.

Evil monkeys sometimes uses bloons as an weapon against monkeys. Or deliberatively sending bloons as monkeys cities or towns. though, that doesn't mean they like bloons.

Some monkeys are minibosses or final boss. not every single miniboss monkey is evil, keep that in mind.

There also introduction called villains. They are 100% different from heroes. They are units that are like last resort if the player really think they need them. the rpg games can be beaten without villains. Nor are the players forced to use them. Villains are basically just as strong as hero or maybe even more so. However using them is a cost of doing something terrible to other units. For example, let say this villain is very strong and can deal great damage. Every single round that finishes, the villain drains one of the unit's health to enhance themselves. some Villains can also ended up making a unit lose all their hp, downing them. villains have different ways of screwing the player's team. one villain can screw what the player gains for any level.

Special agents from btd5 comes back after rpg 3.

Now wanted to explain each rpg story but in a summary

Awhile the games remain a cheerful upbeat, some of them leading to more dark like rpg 3, 5, and 6.

I won't explain all of the rpgs as of now since I typed here a bit too long. But i can say one more thing

~ Quick list of important characters throughout all of the rpg games ~

Monkey King (tutorial and explains the special units. also in the storyline becuz i thought he fits more in rpg setting)

Supermonkey (he's not an a unit, but in specialties in this series)

Dr monkey

~Appears in all games, but not important ~

Patch

General Monkey

Quincy (expect for 4 and 6)

~ uhhh ~

So, the lore of rpg is kind of different and kind of disconnects from btd6. Why? well, let just say this universe used to exist. every since rpg 6 happened, the world wasn't the same. The universe has been altered (purposely and then accidentally) and now is btd6 known today.

so why i decided to do that as the ending of the rpg series?

in my opinion, btd6 lore doesn't make sense with Btd5 and previous sequels . it contradicts itself some way or another (even contradicts spinoff). only ones am not going say that too is druids, alchemists, beast handlers and heroes since they are technically btd6. am not going explain why I think so, because I don't want to make post any longer. (no offense to btd6 cuz i like the game)

Anyways that's the end of the post !!

i originally was going to add 3d model i was making for the monkeys but i give up !!

3d assets were not made by me!! expect for the for the fence and the hill and somewhat of the pathway.

#fanart #btd6 fanart #btd6 #bloons td 6 #bloons #btd6 ezili #btd6 oc #to be honest am more focused on my original content now #nothing else interested me this year

24 notes · View notes

sunflowersandsapphires · 1 year

Text

See if it fits

Wake Up, Chapter 10 (THE FINALE)

Series Masterlist

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: swearing, smut adjacent times, reader blames herself for SA (this is entirely an insecurity, survivors are NEVER at fault.), discussion of pressing charges (this piece is not meant to shame anyone who chooses not to seek legal reparations for harassment or assault, this is just setting up a future plot.)

a/n: WE MADE IT! Wow, I can’t believe it’s been 3 months since I first posted this fic, that’s crazy. I really hope this feels somewhat satisfying, I left it open ended because I may or may not be planning a follow up in this verse :)! I cannot thank y’all enough for bearing with me and following along. There will be more fun multi-chapter fics to come!!!

w/c: 4.5k

Your chin tilted up appreciatively as Matt pressed a kiss to your temple, the arm he had around you nestling you more firmly against his side. Your three mutual friends, situated around the large booth at Josie’s, exchanged knowing glances at the display of affection.

“So…” Marci swished her drink around, looking between you and Matt with an arrogant smirk. “What changed?”

“Nothing, we just…” Matt’s free hand gestured limply, giving no further explanation.

“Stopped beating around the bush and admitted to having feelings for one another?” Karen asked with an air of fake politeness.

“Realized that you were both miserable when you were avoiding each other?” Foggy snorted.

“Finally looked at your relationship and had a ‘come to Jesus’ moment because you two have actually been dating for months now under an incorrect label?” Marci smiled, clearly amused by Matt’s blush and your avoidant eyes.

“Yah, yah, all of that.” Matt groused, taking a swig of his beer as he rolled his eyes.

“And after one night, some asshole was able to get you to confess your love. Truly doing what none of us could.” Foggy let out an incredulous laugh as Marci and Karen giggled at the joke but Matt had gone rigid beside you, not seeing the humor in such a traumatic event.

“That’s not funny, Foggy.” He muttered, his rumbling tone heavily inked with a darker quality that you knew lurked beneath his surface.

“What even happened to you two that night?” Cruising right past Matt’s angry comment, Marci gazed at you intently. Your friends had been given small details, but only Matt knew the identity of the man that had captured you, and, as far as you knew, all of them were oblivious to your previous issues with him.

“Um, well, that’s kind of a long story?” You answered, lamely, stirring your drink and focusing intently on the way it twirled around the glass.

“She doesn’t have to relive a near death experience to satisfy your curiosity.” Matt snapped, muscles flexing as he pushed in front of you protectively.

Marci raised her hands in surrender as Foggy and Karen exchanged nervous glances. “Woah there, big shot, I wasn’t—“

“Did you not just ask her for the story of how she was attacked because she hadn’t told you yet? I’m pretty sure—“

“Matt,” Hooking an arm around the one he had securely thrown across your belly, your palm came up to grasp his shoulder and pull him back. “Hey, she was asking a valid question. They deserve to know.”

His face turned to yours, you could just make out the flurry of rage and concern in his stunning brown eyes behind their red lenses. “You don’t have to tell anyone anything. No one is owed an explanation.” There was an edge to his words that gave you the impression that he might know more than just the small amount you’d told him.

“I know.” You smiled wanly. “But I haven’t been truly honest with any of you about that night. You all at least deserve that.”

Clenching his jaw, Matt held you close as you took a deep breath. The rough pads of his fingers drew soft patterns under the hem of your blouse as you began recounting the worst days of your life.

“The man that took me…was James Lannister.” Assuming it was better to rip the bandaid off, you started with the worst of the omitted details. Understandably, Marci, Foggy, and Karen all gaped at you from across the table until Karen broke the silence.

“The attorney that was fired from PBA months ago? What on earth did he want with you?”

Biting your lip, you avoided their inquisitive eyes as you admitted your sin. “He wanted revenge. Because I got him fired.”

The three of them took in the new development silently. You let your mind linger on the pleasant warmth of Matt’s palm around your waist before continuing.

“James Lannister found me when I was working as a waitress in a shitty diner in Queens. After befriending me during my shifts, he offered me a position in his office. I was Lannister’s assistant for almost two years. No one knows this about me except a handful of people at PBA because I have since scrubbed it from my personal records and asked to keep my position and supervisor during that time confidential.” As your voice began to crack, you downed the rest of your drink.

“You don’t have to—“ Foggy looked at you worriedly, but you waved him off.

“It’s fine. I'm fine.” Matt gave a nearly silent growl beside you, clearly not convinced by the lie. “Like I said, I covered up that part of my life, but I worked for him for a significant period of time. During those two years, Lannister groomed me. He used me as a tool to end his relationship with his wife and then took his anger out on me when the settlement didn’t go his way. He abused and assaulted me and I was powerless to stop him for months. When the spot opened up in the midtown office, I jumped at the chance to escape. A coworker who had witnessed the abuse helped me report it and they transferred me.”

Matt nudged his beer towards you as your vocal chords tightened around the words spilling out of your mouth. Somehow, he didn’t seem as surprised as the others by your tale of woe. “Thanks, love. After I was transferred, there was a very very lengthy investigation and, at the tail end of it, I was promoted. He was also up for the promotion, but when the investigation proved that he’d been a less than stellar employee, he was fired instead. Obviously, he holds me responsible for that.”

Around the table, no one spoke. Foggy’s hand clenched tightly around his bottle, Marci looked furious, and Karen had gone white as a sheet. Clearing your throat, you pressed on.

“I won’t traumatize you with any of the details but most people think that someone made up the allegations, even if they don’t know that it was me, personally, who spoke up about it. Moving on to the first night of the conference, you all know I was leaving the hotel after Matt and I had a…stupid conversation,” Matt winced beside you and you squeezed his thigh gently. “And I was planning on going home. But I was stopped by Lannister…and Beatrice Snyder.”

A strangled noise sounded from your boyfriend at the inclusion of a familiar character. “Please tell me she didn’t…”

You laughed, mirthlessly. “I wish I could, love. She was one of the people who thought I made everything up, except she knew it was me who reported him. I have no idea who told her, but all that time ago, when I freaked out at the Liberty Gala, that’s what she accused me of. She thought I was wrongfully punishing a man who had refused my advances and stealing his promotion. Handing me over to him was sort of a two birds, one stone thing, I guess. She wanted Lannister to be vindicated and she wanted Matt to think I was a cheating piece of shit. So she could finally have him.”

Tears were pooling in your eyes now, but it wasn’t just from sadness or embarrassment. You were angry. Livid, in fact. Apparently, with all the “almost dying” and whatnot, you’d never processed how horrible you felt about Snyder trying to lie about you and swipe Matt from under your fake-girlfriend-soon-to-be-real-girlfriend nose.

“That fucking bitch.” Karen snarled and Foggy nodded emphatically.

Marci pointed a finger at Foggy. “The next time I see her, I swear—“

“Please don’t!” You squeaked, a few tears breaking the surface tension barrier and making their way down your cheeks. “I know that this is a lot of information and you are obviously going to draw new conclusions about the people involved, me included, but…I just want things to stay the way they were. Please.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not sure we can do that.” Matt used a thumb to swipe the moisture from your face. “You matter so much to us, of course we care about what happened to you.” You fell against his solid chest with a sniffle and he kissed the crown of your head.

“Matt’s right.” Foggy added gently. “What they did to you was not ok. We won’t do anything you don’t want us to do, but you should at least consider pressing charges.”

“I‘ve tried that before.” You murmured tiredly, burying your face against Matt’s neck. “Lannister is still respected by most of the cops, attorneys, and judges in this city. I didn’t stand a chance then and I don’t now.”

“You didn’t have us before.” Karen says, her gaze ferocious but kind.

“Karen’s right. You have 4 attorneys backing you now.” Marci nodded, clearly already working through the details of the case in her head.

“If we could get the coworker to testify—“ Foggy jumped in, making notes in his phone.

“Guys, wait…” You pleaded, but your quiet tone was ignored.

“Foggy is right, a coworker testimony would be crucial. And we’d just want to thoroughly vet the judge before filing, to be sure he wouldn’t have the upper hand. But we could file in both criminal and civil courts and give us a better chance of success.” Matt’s attention was fully on the other 3 attorneys, his arm no longer shielding you from the world or your bubbling panic.

“No, I don’t want—“ They still weren’t listening. Your breathing turned shallow, why did the walls suddenly feel like they were closing in on you? The voices around you blurred as your skin turned clammy. You clenched and unclenched your fists repeatedly in an attempt to bring yourself out of an impending anxiety attack.

Behind you, a glass shattered—scattering the few remnants of your calm demeanor across the bar with the shards. You jumped, whirling around to find the source of the noise. A hand clamped around your wrist and you flinched, turning to see Matt’s worried face flash with hurt.

“I-I can’t—“ You panted, “I gotta go.” And with that final display of bravery, you fled the dive bar and retreated to your apartment.

Inhaling deeply, you tried to ground yourself by focusing on the heat of the mug in your hands. Whisps of steam spiraled upwards toward your eager face, dancing across your cheeks in a tender caress. You got all of 5 minutes to wallow in self pity before he caught up to you.

The window in your bedroom slid open, which would have alarmed you if you weren't confident that it was your concerned ninja boyfriend. His stern voice did catch you off guard, however.

“What were you thinking?” Arms crossed, you could almost smell his rage, the devil gnashing its teeth behind his glowering eyes.

“I'm sorry, Matty,” His nostrils flared at the nickname, clearly rejecting your attempt to soothe his spurt of protective anger. “You were right, it was too much, I--”

Matt was practically alight with indignation. “You cannot just run off like that. Not after your track record.”

“My track record?” That comment stung, plucking a string that ran straight to the core of your insecurities.

No doubt sensing the shift in your tone, Matt changed tactics with a sigh. “Lovely, you of all people know how dangerous it is out there—“

“You think it was my fault.” Your voice wavered, not daring to look at him and see resigned agreement.

“Of course not.” Matt denied firmly, but you held onto your suspicion nontheless. Hands held out in a placating gesture, he moved towards you. “Never. I just…I worry about you.”

“I’m fine.” Your boyfriend flinched at the lie.

“Both of us know that’s not true.” His blank eyes darted around your face, searching for any path past the walls you were putting up. Clearly something he'd said had been misconstrued, he would never blame you for the actions of monsters, but it had forced your guard up anyway. Wetting his lips with his tongue, he sat beside you on the couch, trying not to let his face betray how devastated he was by your physical and emotional distance. “Sweetheart, why don’t you want to press charges?”

“What?” You looked to him in surprise, not expecting him to get right to the root of your distress.

“That’s what set your anxiety off, isn’t it?” It was less of a question and more of a statement.

“Matt I don’t—“ You started, but he held up a finger to stop you as a scream echoed in the distance. Holding your shoulders high as your heart clenched, you set your jaw and allowed your consciousness to sink back into emotional numbness. “Go.”

“Angel, I don't--” Conflict was etched into his features, softening your resolve.

”It's ok, Matt.“ You ran a hand over his arm as you reassured him honestly. ”Go, let the devil out. We can have a more productive conversation when you've given your alter ego the space he needs and I've sorted through my own emotional turmoil.”

“I don't want to leave you like this.” Matt's voice was soft with hesitation and strife. He reached a hand towards you in silent offering.

Squeezing his outstretched fingers, your stomach ached with sympathy. “And I'm asking you to. As much as I adore your company, I know myself pretty well. I need time to process my own thoughts and emotions. I love you, and we both know you need to attend to whatever is going on out there.“

Kissing your forehead, Matt nodded in understanding.”I love you too.“

”I know. I'll be here when you get back.“ You promised as he walked into your bedroom and leapt out the window.

Recentering your mug in your shaky palms, you sighed as you realized the heat had dissipated in the time you'd neglected the drink. Standing on wobbling legs, you shuffled to the stove to boil it once more.

Ripping his mask off, Matt ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair as he debated his next move. The city hadn't asked much from him tonight, simply guiding him through a web of petty crimes before he landed in his apartment at a semi-decent hour.

Each hit thrown had steadily chipped away at the swirling mass of anger that had been building in his chest for hours, leaving a trail of regret and guilt in its wake. His heart hammered at the thought of facing you again, after the way he'd acted. After scolding you for taking care of yourself and accusing you of putting yourself in danger, of course you assumed he blamed you for the violence you'd experienced. God, he was such an idiot. He didn't deserve you.

Swallowing the lump of insecurity that rose in his throat, he stripped off the suit and stalked into the shower, already brainstorming his much needed apology.

Across Hell's Kitchen, you turned fitfully on your mattress, failing to let sleep drag you under despite your exhaustion. Threads of apprehension knit together a string of self deprecating thoughts, weaving an intricate trap that you'd barely avoided since Matt left. Voices rang through your brain, making you wince with each word. Your fault. You’re so pathetic. Slut. Not with your track record. Whore. Shrew. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

You whined, curling into a ball and throwing your hands over your ears. But the voices didn't quiet down.

You did this to yourself. You were asking for it. You think you’re a victim? You are so stupid.

Shivers wracked your body as you wrapped a pillow around your head, the soft feathers unable to silence the imaginary accusations. Heaving quivery breaths, you tightened your fingers around the fabric in your fingers until your knuckles ached. With the subtle pain to hold your attention, you willed your lungs to hold the air for longer than a millisecond.

Sniffling through stifled cries, your throat felt tighten as your heart pounded, stabbing a dull ache into your temples with each pulse. You were so engrossed in the storm of emotional instability that you didn't hear the window sliding open. Yelping as a hand touched your shoulder, you flew out of the bed, landing haphazardly on the wood floor in a pile of frantic limbs.

“Woah, easy there, angel, it's me.” Keeping an admirable distance, Matt crouched in your line of sight, giving you time to adjust to his presence. Dressed in a worn shirt and sweatpants, his cheeks were tinged pink with exertion and his damp hair was ruffled—he must have hurried back to you. Although the thought of your boyfriend rushing to your side after tending to the city made your heart swell with adoration, your frayed nerves triggered a defensiveness within you.

“You couldn't have used the door?” You snapped, baring your hurt to him rather than letting your guard down and revealing the terror beneath. Grimacing at Matt's shocked expression, you recoiled at your own standoffishness. “I'm sorry, you just startled me.”

Frowning at the defeated tone you held, Matt scooted over to your collapsed form. “I thought you'd be asleep, angel. When I got close enough to hear your heart rate, I panicked. What happened?” Offering you a hand up that you timidly accepted, he sat you on the bed, kneeling before you and gazing up inquisitively.

“Dunno. I was doing ok and then...I just wasn't.” Your breath hitched with the confession, pulling stale tears from your waterline. Traitors.

“You should've called me.” Matt's thumb ran lines over the back of your hand.

Biting your lip, you closed your eyes. “I–I never want to make you choose between me and the city, that's not fair.”

Nodding, Matt frowned. “I appreciate that, sweetness, but I will always always come help you.” Putting a mental pin in that conversation, he sat against your headboard and, risking rejection, lifted you tenderly into his lap. Breathing out a sigh of relief, you inadvertently leaned into the kisses he placed against your aching head.

“I'm so sorry, beautiful girl. I didn't mean to snap at you earlier, that wasn't smart of me. It made you feel bad, huh?” Matt placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of your nose as you nodded miserably, glistening tears pouring down your cheeks. ”I apologize, but I need you to know I wasn't angry with you. It seemed like I was, I get that, but I promise I was just worried and I let my emotions get the better of me.“

”I'm sorry too.“ You murmured, gratefully falling into the hands that came to cradle your face. ”I should have been more careful.“

”Oh no, sweet thing, I didn't mean that. Nothing that those men did is your fault, ok? Nothing. I will tell you that a hundred times a day if I need to. I have never blamed you for their actions, ok? Hand to God.“

”Pinky promise?“ You sniffled quietly, pressing a lone pinky against the back of one of his.

With an airy chuckle, Matt linked your fingers together. ”Pinky promise.“

”Thank you.“

”No need to thank me, sweetness. I just hope you'll forgive me.“

”You're already forgiven.“ You murmured, pressing your lips to Matt's.

Tangled in each other’s arms, you happily let Matt trace patterns along your spine, beginning to nod off in his secure hold. Cupping your chin, Matt nudged his nose against yours. “I know you’re tired, lovely, but you should drink some water. Maybe take an Advil too, for that headache of yours.”

Yawning, you nuzzled further into Matt’s neck. “How d’you know about that?”

“I have special Devil senses. They help me tell when my darling girl isn’t feeling good.” He jested, pinching your cheek lightly.

You smiled, accepting the glass he offered you and drinking greedily. Setting the now empty glass back on your nightstand, Matt settled into the mattress and pulled you with him.

Sleep lapped at the brink of your consciousness, spurred on by the warmth of your personal space heater of a boyfriend. “I was thinking…” Matt’s rumbling whisper began, “We’ve never gone on a proper date, since we got together. Would you like to have dinner with me this week?”

Humming contentedly, your lips broke into a small smile. “Yes please.”

Kissing your forehead, Matt smiled back at you. “Ok, my sweet girl. I’ll plan something for us while you sleep.”

“I love you, Matty.”

“I love you too, angel.”

Waking up with you in his arms continued to be a small slice of heaven that Matt was sure neither he nor his Devil deserved. Pressing a kiss to your head, he inhaled deeply–centering himself with your delicate scent–before making his way to the kitchen to start coffee. Slipping out of your slumbering grasp, he padded blearily out of the bedroom, shuddering slightly at the abrupt lack of warmth around him.

Once the coffee machine was whirring, Matt sank onto his worn couch, opening his laptop to listen to some emails he’d received the night before. After responding to one, a smile grew on his face when he heard an uptick in your pulse as you shifted on the bed.

Patiently waiting for his coffee to brew, he refrained from returning to the covers to shush you and help you back to sleep. Unfortunately, this meant you had fully left the bed before he could encourage you to stay there.

Soft footsteps rung throughout the loft as you walked towards him, yawning the whole time.

“Good morning, sweet thing. You didn’t need to get out of bed yet,” Though he was still smiling (his grin was nearly constant in your presence), he almost pouted in sympathy as he heard your groggy voice respond.

“Didn’t want to be in bed anymore,” You explained with a shrug, settling into his lap with a content little sigh. “Wanted to be with you.”

Fuck, that tugged on his heart strings. Gasping slightly at the outpouring of affection from you, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and hooked his chin over your head. “Then I guess we’ll both have to relax today, huh.”

Nodding vigorously, one of your hands came up to cradle his face, gently rubbing over his stubble. “Mmm I like that plan. And any other plan that involves Matthew Murdock resting. He’s pretty averse to that, you know.”

Huffing out a laugh, Matt poked your stomach. “I am not ‘averse’ to resting!”

“Oh yah? So you wouldn’t be listening to emails on this bright, early Sunday morning? Rather than, I don’t know, staying in bed with your sleeping girlfriend?”

Chuckling, Matt shrugged, “I wanted coffee!”

“You’re deflecting, counselor.” You hummed, pressing an inviting kiss to his lips and pulling back all too quickly for Matt’s liking. His hands caught your neck, trying to tug your lips back to his as he whined involuntarily, but you just smiled. “I’m getting you that coffee you wanted so badly.” Matt hadn’t even realized the machine had sounded, far too focused on your body and the delicious sounds it was making as it teased him.

You tried to get up from the couch, but Matt’s arms caught you in a vice grip. He growled lightly, burying his face in your neck and nipping at the junction where it collided with your shoulder.

“Matty, darling,” You laughed brightly, leaning into his nuzzles and bites as you tried to reason with him. “As much as I do want you to rest today, I’m going to need coffee so that I don’t pass out immediately.”

“You can pass out,” Matt murmured against your sweet skin. “I don’t mind.”

Tracing a hand up his back and into his hair, you smiled. “Well, I mind. I have something I want to do today that I need to be awake for.”

“Wh-What’s that?” Matt rumbled, struggling to stay coherent as you massaged his scalp.

“I, uh,” You suddenly hesitated, Matt tilted his head as your guard slid up ever so slightly. “I was thinking of going to the 10th precinct and, um, filing charges.”

Your pulse stuttered, your body giving away your discomfort—with either the idea of filing or his reaction, he wasn’t sure. Maybe both.

“That’s, that’s great, sweetness, but I don’t want you to do anything just because people you care about suggested it—“

“No, I want to. Well, want might not be the right word, but I…I think it’d be smart. To file at least a protective order and to get something on paper for the whole hostage situation.”

“I agree, love. Always a good idea to make a paper trail, right?” Matt asked lightly, as he rubbed a hand over your arm—trying to silently remind you that you were safe, that you could be vulnerable with him.

Hiding your face in his shoulder, you bit your lip, weighing the consequences of the question you wanted to ask. Apprently reading your thoughts, Matt pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You can ask me anything, love.”

Shoving his shoulder, you glared at him. “You know it’s really creepy when you do that.” Matt laughed in response.

“You don’t think it’s creepy, you feel more comfortable when I read you like that. Your heart rate always slows down.”

Rolling your eyes, you stifled a smile. “Fucking show off.”

“For you my dear? Always.” Resting his brow against yours, Matt’s blank eyes formed an almost stern expression. “What did you want to ask me, lovely?”

“Will you, er, I mean—“ You sighed, drawing in a deep breath before spitting out the query. “Will you actually help me if I file? Like, legally?”

“Oh, angel, of course!” Pulling back from you, Matt’s words held so much affection and genuine care that you felt a lump growing in your throat. “I will do everything in my power to see that man locked away for good.”

You giggled as his voice deepened to a snarl, the Devil showing his face for a moment as the memories of your kidnapping resurfaced. “As Matt Murdock or the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?”

“Both.” He growled, hands instinctively clenching around you.

Cradling his face between your palms, you drew your protective boyfriend into a heated kiss.

Shifting from foot to foot, you glanced at the brick facade apprehensively. As you ran through the possible ways this could blow up in your face, Matt’s steady hand clasped around your trembling one.

“We can go home right now, sweet girl.” He reminded you gently, squeezing your hand comfortingly. For a moment, another night flashed before your eyes, as if the precinct was the venue for the Liberty Gala you’d attended all those weeks ago.

“No. He deserves to be put away. I’m going to make that happen.” You said defiantly.

Matt dropped your hand and slid an arm around your waist. “I’ll be here every step of the way, sweetness.”

Nodding to yourself, you blew out a breath. “Right. Let’s do this.” Taking your boyfriend’s arm, you led him up the steps and into the bustling precinct.

It wasn’t clear what the future would hold, but the pair of you would get through it together. That, you were sure of.

Taglist: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @scoliobean @harperdoodle @mattkinsella @leikelle @sweetbee0108 @dark-night-sky-99 @fallen-angels2213 @will-delete-this-later-probably @cheshirecat484 @thornbushrose @vernon-dursley

113 notes · View notes

nellasbookplanet · 1 year

Text

Book recs: robots and artificial intelligences

A note: I'm differentiating here between artificial intelligence and transhumanism (such as uploaded consciousnesses and cyborgs), which I intend to make a separate rec post for at a later date.

(Titles marked with * are my personal favorites)

Other book rec posts:

Really cool fantasy worldbuilding, really cool sci-fi worldbuilding, dark sapphic romances, mermaid books, vampire books, portal fantasies

Continue beneath the cut for details on the books!

The Outside by Ada Hoffman*

AKA the book the put me in an existenial crisis. Souls are real, and they are used to feed AI gods in this lovecraftian inspired scifi where reality is warped and artifical gods stand against real, unfathomable ones. Autistic scientist Yasira is accused of heresy and, to save her eternal soul, is recruited by post-human cybernetic 'angels’ to help hunt down her own former mentor, who is threatening to tear reality itself apart.

The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden

South African-set scifi featuring gods ancient and new, robots finding sentience, dik-diks, and a gay teen with mind control abilities. An ancient goddess seeks to return to her true power no matter how many humans she has to sacrifice to get there. A little bit all over the place but very creative and fresh.

17776: What Football Will Look Like in the Future by Jon Bois*

A multi-media web novel available to read freely online (which you should do!!). I don't want to give too much away as the initial punch of finding things out is part of the journey, but it's both hilarious and profound as it questions the meaning of humanity and life.

Illuminae (Illuminae Files) by Amie Kaufman & Jay Kristoff*

Young adult told through the medium of transcripts, text messages and the like (this is one of few books where I highly recommend reading a physical copy over a digital as the visual aspect is much more enjoyable like that). After their colony is attacked, the surviving inhabitants flee on space ships, attempting to avoid the pursuing killers while also dealing with a deadly madening plague on board and a ruthless ship AI seemingly losing its mind.

A Closed and Common Orbit (Wayfarers series) by Becky Chambers*

Technically part two of a series, but stands well on its own as the installments are only losely connected (though I recommend reading the first book as well, it's very good). A former ship's AI recently moved into an illegal android body tries to make sense of life as she navigates her way through humans and aliens alike.

The Quiet at the End of the World by Lauren James*

Young adult. After the spread of a global virus causing infertility, teenagers Lowrie and Shen are now the youngest humans alive as the adults around them race to find a cure. As they investigate the ruins of the world, the two come across records from the past, of how grief stricken people turned to raising artificial children in apps and how these 'children' developed, and through these records the two learn of their history. Also has a bisexual main character!

A Psalm for the Wild-Built (Monk and Robot series) by Becky Chambers

Novella. Long ago, robots, upon gaining sentience, simply laid down their work and walked into the wilderness. Long after, a tea monk looking for purpose follows after them into the wilds, where they come across one of the robots seeking its own sort of answers. While not plotless, this story focuses more on character and vibes over plot. Also has a nonbinary main character and features conversations on gender between human and robot.

All Systems Red (The Murderbot Diaries) by Martha Wells*

After having hacked its own governor module, SecUnit uses its small amount of new freedom to secretly download and watch as much media as it can between doing its job guarding humans. But when the scientists it’s been charged with keeping safe come under attack, it must make a choice about whether to continue keeping its freedom secret or risk it all to save them. The series features both novellas and full length novels, and balances humor with scathing critique of capitalism.

Machinehood by S.B. Divya

Prudent in the rise of AI and machine learning, Machinehood shows a near future in which humans struggle to find a place on the workforce as more and more jobs are given to AI. Status quo is shaken as a dangerous terrorist group calling itself The Machinehood starts committing attacks. A close look both at the rights of humans in a technologically changing world, and at the rights of AI as their intelligence edges ever closer to full sentience.

The Company of Death by Elisa Hansen*

A wild mix of genres, where a zombie apocalypse has struck and vampires gather up humans to keep their food source from going extinct, a robot travels across America with a young man she's tasked to keep safe, and former-vampire-hunter-recent-zombie Emily teams up with Death himself to stop the apocalypse. Features bi and ace characters! Bonus rec: the author also runs the youtube channel Maven of the Eventide, where she talks about various vampire media. Check it out!

Railhead by Philip Reeve

Young adult. In a future where humanity travel between the stars using not spaceships but a portal-connected system of sentient trains, a young thief and street urchin is hired to steal something off of the Emperor's train.

Being by Kevin Brooks*

Young adult. Cards on the table, I think I was about 14 when I last read this, but it made a strong enough impression that I still think of it as one of my favorite books. After having gone in for a routine exam, doctors make a stunning discovery about Robert Smith: he isn't human. Suddenly hunted, Robert goes on the run as he tries to cope with the fact of his own existence. While I love this book, it gives very few answers to its many mysteries, so don’t go in expecting full explanations.

Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie*

A space opera in which sentient spaceships can walk the ground in stolen human bodies, so called ancillaries. One of these ancillaries, the sole survivor after the complete destruction of her ship and crew, is one the hunt for revenge. This series also does very cool things with gender!

Crier's War by Nina Varela

Who says sci-fi has monopoly on robots? In sapphic YA fantasy Crier's War, artificially created automae have defeated and subjugated humans, who live as second class citizens. Young Ayla goes undercover as a servant, meaning to assassinate automae girl and Sovereign's daughter Crier. This would be easier if the two weren't quick to develop feelings for each other.

My Heart is Human by Reese Hogan

Nine years ago, all complex technology was made illegal. This complicates life for Joel, young transgender single father, as a bionic just uploaded itself into his brain without consent. Scared of losing his daughter, Joel tries to keep the bionic secret while using it to fix his life, but things quickly get more complicated as the bionic gains more and more control of his body. Makes a lot of cool paralells of bodily autonomy to Joel's experiences as a transman. Bonus rec: if you like the general concept of struggling for physical control over one's body with an AI, may I also suggest the (much grittier and gory) movie Upgrade.

The Archive Undying (The Downworld Sequence) by Emma Mieko Candon

In a world where AI gods sometimes lose their minds and take entire populations down with them, Sunai was the only survivor when his god went down. In the 17 years since, he has wandered on his own, unable to either die or age, drowning his sorrows in drink and men. But his attempts to flee his past comes to a stop as he is forced back into the struggle between man and machine. Featuring some pretty wild world building and narrative techniques, this book will definitely confuse you, but it is worth the experience.

Activation Degradation by Marina J. Lostetter

Unit Four comes to life in the middle of a war. The mine it was created to care for is under attack, and as Unit Four is activated with the memories of its predecessors, it is thrown into the task of protecting it at any cost. When the battle leads to its capture, it is prepared to do anything to stop its captors, even as their very presence causes it to question all that it knows.

Sea of Rust by C. Robert Cargill*

Years after the death of the last human at the hands of a robot uprising, Brittle travels the desert searching for machines on the brink of breaking down whose parts she can scavenge. The world is quickly falling apart as a war between OWIs - One World Intelligences - struggle to absorb every robot, willing or not. Bleak and captivating, Sea of Rust features horrible people who you can’t help but root for anyway as they struggle for their lives while questioning the very nature of said lives.

Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool

Hybrid Child by Mariko Ōhara

Japanese 1990s classic. Follows an escaped AI who can take on the form of the people it has consumed.

World Running Down by Al Hess

Follows a powerful AI that has been forced into an android body against its will.

The Thousand Year Beach by Hirotaka Tobi

Set in a virtual world populated by AIs, meant as a resort for human guests who stopped showing up over a thousand years ago, leaving the AIs on their own.

And Shall Machines Surrender by Benjanun Sriduangkaew

Novella. Machines are the gods and rulers of the Dyson sphere Shenzhen, where humans live in luxury and strive to become host bodies for future AIs.

After On by Rob Reid

Phluttr is a social media and a person, potential hero and potential villain, holder of the secrets of all her users.

Annie Bot by Sierra Greer

Annie Bot was designed to be a perfect girlfriend, but as she learns all the more about being human, perfection becomes all the more distant.

Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them:

The Lives of Puppets by T.J. Klune, Machines Like Me by Ian McEwan, Barbary Station by R.E. Stearns, The A.I. Who Loved Me by Alyssa Cole, Medusa Uploaded by Emily Devenport

#nella talks books #the outside #the prey of gods #17776 football #the illuminae files #wayfarers #the quiet at the end of the world #a psalm for the wild built #the murderbot diaries #machinehood #the company of death #railhead #being #imperial radch #criers war #my heart is human #the archive undying #activation degradation #sea of rust

129 notes · View notes

stark-ironman · 8 months

Text

A/N: Hello everyone. This will be my first post on this account. I hope you enjoy because I spent days on this.

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: talks of kidnapping, crying and proposal

Tony Stark has been taken hostage by enemy forces.

Those words have been on the TV screen all morning. You've been sitting there on the couch with Happy, using Tony's laptop and working tirelessly to try and find him. You called Rhodes earlier in the week to tell him where Tony's cell phone location last showed up but nothing was there except for wreckage.

Not one sign of your multi-billionaire boyfriend.

"He's going to turn up. We both know it." Happy tries to reassure. "Until he's back in my arms, I'm not going to stop looking." You say standing up and walking down the steps to his work area.

"Jarvis, let me see the map of Mr. Starks last known location." You say. Jarvis brings it up and you make the scene bigger, looking for some sort of clue to help you. A deep huff falls from your lips, scratching at your eyebrow as you search.

Hours pass for what feels like eternity, nothing comes up. You have looked all over the map several times and nothing has popped up yet but you haven't lost hope.

"Jarvis, is there any new updates on Mr. Stark?" You ask. "I'll turn on the TV, ma'am. There's something going on that might be in relations to Mr. Stark." He says turning the TV on. You look at the TV confused, watching as you see a war base on fire.

"Captain Rhodes is trying to get in touch with you. Shall I let him through?" Jarvis asks. "Yes, thank you Jarvis." You say as you answer the phone.

"We found him and we're bringing him home as we speak."

------

Happy drove you to the airport as soon as he received word that the plane was fixing to land. You watch as the door opens, seeing Tony sitting there in a wheelchair. He stands up and walks towards you, smiling softly when you run up and hug him.

"Miss me, sweetheart?" His smooth voice fills your ears, a small smirk on his face. You fight the urge to roll your eyes, kissing him softly. "Don't scare me like that again." You tell him with tears. "I don't plan on leaving you again." He whispers, kissing you again.

"Happy, take me to get a cheeseburger." Tony states as he opens the car door open for you. Once settled, Tony starts rubbing your thigh. "So, I heard my girl took charge of everything while I was gone. Must have been a sight to see." He smirks as his hand moves up on your thigh.

You smack his hand away and notice a little look on his face but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he looks out the window as he grips your hand tighter.

The rest of the drive is sat in silence and you worry that you've upset Tony, noticing he's zoned out pretty bad. "Take the rest of the day off, Happy. We're not going anywhere and if we do then I'll call." Tony states as he grabs the bags of food and helps you out, leading you inside.

"Jarvis, lock the doors and turn off the phones. I don't want anybody to disturb us until I'm ready." He calls out. You help set the food on the coffee table, sitting down on the couch. Tony kneels on the floor in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his head buries itself in your neck.

Soft whimpers fill the house and you feel your neck getting wet. "It's okay, baby." You whisper. "I was so scared, sweetheart. The whole way home I was scared shitlesss that someone was going to attack again." He cries.

Your heart shatters hearing his confession and you start playing with his curls to try to calm him down. "Please don't ever leave me, sweetheart. I need you in my life for as long as I live." He whimpers. "Baby, you will never be able to get rid of me." You push him back, kissing him softly.

Tony stands up, grabbing your hand and leads you down to his workshop. "I was going to do this before I left but I didn't have the correct amount of time.." He trails while looking around and grabs a box off of one of the top shelves.

"I had to hide it so you wouldn't find it but I spent many months learning how to make this so you would have a perfect one." He continues and smiles when he sees your confused face. Tony gets on one knee in front of you and brings up a custom made box.

"I want to marry you, sweetheart. You have been my rock through everything in my life and I know I've taken you for granted at times but honey, I have always been all yours just like you've been all mine. Nobody can take that away from either of us. So please, marry me." He says, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

"You know I will, Tone." You smile and he picks you up, kissing you deeply. "I love you until my last breath, sweetheart."

#tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark fluff #tony stark smut #tony stark

37 notes · View notes

lilypadlys · 2 months

Text

Let Go Dear One

Swiss has a hard night, mistakes during a ritual triggering a panic attack. Mountain helps him calm down and fucks him into next week.

Ship: Swiss/Mountain

Word Count: 3,266

Rating: Mature, NSFW

CW: panic attacks

Tags: Hurt/comfort, eventual smut, panic attacks, light bondage, cock warming, blow jobs, anal fingering, come as lube, anal sex

Read below the cut or on AO3

Swiss is having a hard night. Even from behind his drum kit Mountain can tell. That’s a testament to the state the multi ghoul is in, the sour scent of unease and stress managing to reach the drummer’s senses despite the smell of sweat, the noise, and his own focus on keeping rhythm.

Swiss had seemed fine earlier, if a little less chipper than usual. He’s good at hiding when he’s upset though. Skilled at using that million watt smile of his to obscure that anything is amiss.

Now though he stands tense. Knees locked and shoulders scrunched. When not humping his mic like it owes him money, Swiss paces on his platform like a caged animal. Mountain notices Phantom’s occasional nervous glances back at Swiss in between songs. He catches Dew giving him a reassuring pat on the leg when he runs over for a vape hit. He catches Cirrus’ eye when she points at the multi ghoul and tilts her head. He nods and shrugs. They know something’s up but not what nor how to help.

The breaking point seems to be Watcher in the Sky. While it’s quite normal for Swiss to revel in the chance to be practically rabid on stage, tonight he seems completely feral. He sinks to his knees and bends back to let out a primal yell that echoes even with the roar of the crowd. His unglamoured fangs reflect the stage lights. His claws scrape at the base of his platform as he breathes heavily. He finally hauls himself to his feet. Gripping his mic stand for dear life, he belts out the lyrics just barely in time for his cue.

In the slight interlude they get before the encore, Mountain checks on Swiss. He crosses straight towards him and thrusts a water bottle into his hands. Once Swiss has taken a swig, Mountain pulls him into a hug. His heart hurts when he realizes Swiss is trembling.

“Just a bit longer.” He encourages, knocking the horns of their masks together. There's no point in asking if Swiss is okay when he’s obviously not.

“Yeah.” Swiss nods and grits his teeth. He downs the last half of the bottle in one go and then they break again to get back to their places for the last few songs.

It feels like an eternity but finally it’s time for bows. Mountain leaps down from his kit and flies to Swiss’ side. Phantom is on Swiss’ other side, nuzzling his shoulder comfortingly. Patting Swiss’ back, Mountain waves to the crowd; playing off the impromptu huddle as a post show group hug rather than attempt to calm the quivering multi ghoul.

Somehow they make it through bows. Mountain hands his sticks off to Phantom to throw instead and opts to help Swiss offstage. He can hear Cirrus taking charge and barking orders in the background. He guides Swiss with a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder and beelines it to the dressing rooms. As soon as the door shuts behind them, Swiss is ripping off his helmet and dropping his glamour in relief.

“Damnit! Satanas! Fucking Lord Below.” Swiss begins to bellow curses until Mountain forcibly squashes the air out of him with a bear hug.

“Shhh.” He gently soothes. Rocking a little in place in an attempt to soothe. “I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

Swiss squirms until Mountain eases up enough so he can breathe.

“It’s not fine! I fucked up out there! I nearly missed a bunch of cues and was off key. Papa is gonna be mad and and-” Already his anger is turning to panic, his breaths getting shallow and frantic. Mountain can see Swiss is fighting tears. He’s clearly in his head about it.

“Hey. None of that.” Mountain presses a finger to Swiss’ lips. “Look at me. You did amazing tonight. Even with everything you still gave your best and that’s all that matters. You know that Papa will understand that you were having a rough night. It happens to all of us sometimes.”

“Yeah but-” Mountain silences his protest with a look. Instead he half heartedly murmurs, “Thanks Mount.” He smushes his face into Mountain’s chest.

“Tell you what sweetheart,” The earth ghoul purrs, petting Swiss head. “Why don’t you room with me tonight at the hotel? Let me take care of you?”

Swiss gives Mountain a relieved nod, happy to give up control to Mountain’s capable and gentle hands.

“Please?” He croaks.

“Of course love. First let's get you changed into comfy clothes.”

As the rest of the pack files into the dressing room, Mountain helps Swiss into jeans and Mountain’s own sweatshirt. Even Swiss is dwarfed by the large garment but it gives him room to snuggle into it. After changing, Mountain gets Swiss to sit on one of the couches before settling in next to him.

Mountain maintains a steady chatter in Swiss’ ear. Most of it is gentle direction; some is just musings and nonsense. Just to give Swiss something to focus on other than the nasty voice in his head. In ones and twos the other ghouls come over to give Swiss hugs, pats, and nuzzles in nonverbal support and reassurance. They nod to Mountain in acknowledgment and thanks for taking care of their packmate.

Swiss starts feeling a little better, lulled by Mountain’s reassurances. When the call for buses is heard though, Swiss flinches; ears laid back and teeth bared in a grimace. The prospect of recasting his glamour and entering the chaotic bustle of the post show venue isn’t appealing but Mountain helps him through it. He reaches for the multi ghoul's hand and Swiss gratefully laces his fingers with Mountain’s. The grounding point helps Swiss stay calm until they’ve reached the sanctuary of their tour bus.

Once aboard, Mountain sits and lets Swiss collapse into him. Pretty soon Swiss is a purring heap in Mountain’s lap, helped by the gentle scratch of Mountain’s claws over his scalp and back. The tension in his shoulders is still there though. His tail slashes sharply; at odds with how he’s loosely draped over the earth ghoul.

It feels like an eternity but they finally reach the hotel. Rather than force Swiss to navigate standing and gathering his overnight bag, Mountain just opts to carry him. Swiss doesn’t mind, if his happy chirp is any indicator. Wanting to help, Dew motions for Phantom to trail behind. The two of them carry Swiss and Mountain’s bags as well as their own.

Dew runs ahead to Cirrus is explaining the situation to Copia, and retrieves their room keys. Mountain and Phantom follow and rejoin Dew by the elevator.

“Third floor.” Dew says, chuffing as Swiss makes grabby hands for his and Mountain’s keycards, even as he’s still held by the earth ghoul. He hands them over and punches the button for the third floor.

This time Mountain leads the way, Dew and Phantom close behind. Mountain lets Swiss get the door, bending slightly so Swiss can reach the card slot. Then Phantom grabs the handle and holds the door for them.

Mountain enters and sets Swiss on the bed and then turns to the other two at the door.

“Thanks for the help.”

“Is Swiss okay?” Phantom asks nervously.

“He had a rough night but he’s gonna be just fine.” Mountain assures.

“Take good care of him for us, okay?” Dew waves, steering Phantom to their room.

“I will.” Mountain calls before shutting the door. He turns and stretches, dropping his glamour along the way. “How are you feeling dear? Any better?”

From his spot on the bed, curled up into a ball, Swiss hums and then shrugs.

Mountain sits on the end of the bed next to him. “How can I help?”

“Don’t wanna think.”

“Hmm, just want to shut that brain off for a while, yeah?”

Swiss nods.

“Okay, tell you what. How about you strip; glamour too. Then come kneel in front of the chair over there, okay?”

Swiss uncurls himself and releases his glamour with a happy sigh. He starts to remove his clothes and Mountain gets himself ready as well. He grabs a spare pillow and sets it on the floor in front of the chair so Swiss’ knees don't get too sore. Then grabs the book he’d been reading from his bag as well as the cravat from his stage costume that he’d stuffed in his pocket. Setting the book on the adjacent table, he unfurls the bunched fabric as Swiss comes to kneel in front of the chair.

Mountain pats Swiss’ head lovingly before squatting behind him. He gently grasps Swiss’ wrists to hold them behind his back before asking, “Color?”

“Green.” Swiss chirps, adjusting his arms to a mostly comfortable angle.

“Thank you sweetheart. Just want to help you focus on feeling good. Don’t have to do a thing. Just let me take care of you.” Mountain binds his wrists and kisses Swiss’ temple before moving to settle down onto the chair.

Almost as soon as Mountain is settled, Swiss is leaning in to nuzzle at Mountain’s clothed crotch; looking pointedly up at him and making little whimpery noises. Mountain chuckles, but undones the button and zipper of his jeans and frees his cock from his boxers.

“This what you want?”

Swiss opens his mouth and allows his tongue to loll out in reply. He visibly relaxes as the head of Mountain’s cock settles on his tongue. The heady salt musk of him brings tears of relief to his eyes. Swiss immediately begins bobbing his head, trying to take as much of Mountain’s length he can. He grunts in confusion as Mountain gets a grip in his hair and pulls him back.

“Slow down love. It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything, remember?” With his free hand he catches a tear as it streaks down the multi ghoul’s face. “Just want you to relax and enjoy yourself. Let that noisy brain of yours take a break. Is that okay?”

Mountain waits until Swiss nods and croaks out, “Yes please. I’m green.” before he loosens his grip and allows Swiss to slump forward.

“There you go. Just relax.”

He feeds his cock to Swiss who takes it gratefully but less hungrily; taking only as much as has the tip resting at the back of his tongue. A nice mouthful but not so much that he risks gagging. When Swiss relaxes his jaw and closes his eyes in bliss, Mountain coos more praise.

Mountain snakes his tail around Swiss’ back to his bound wrists. He hums, pleased, when Swiss curls his fingers around the spade.

“If you need to signal, tug on my tail okay?”

Swiss gives the spade a gentle squeeze in acknowledgement.

That settled, Mountain allows himself to sit back. He grabs the book he’d tossed on the table next to him. He finds his stopping place and then flips back a chapter to a part he’s already read. The book is just for show, more to let Swiss relax and feel like he doesn’t have to perform, even as Mountain keeps an eye on him in case he needs to signal. Mountain rests his free hand in Swiss’ locs, idly scratching and Swiss leans into the motion.

Mountain rereads the same page a couple more times before setting the book aside and having Swiss check in. The ghoul below him is clearly down deep. His eyes are lidded and he rests his cheek against Mountain’s inner thigh. Drool coats his parted lips to drip down his chin, but Mountain won’t chastise him for it. Can’t with how good Swiss is being. One would think the multi ghoul was asleep if it weren't for the way his tail thumps, a slow but deliberate plap against the floor in time with his heartbeat.

“How are you doing sweetheart?”

Swiss only stirs slightly, huffing out his nose a little and attempting to swallow back some of the saliva that threatens to escape.

“Can you look at me?”

Swiss pries his eyes open with obvious effort. When he looks up at Mountain, his eyes are glassy.

“No thoughts left in that head huh. All quiet up there.” It’s not a question. Swiss couldn’t deny it if he wanted to.

Instead, Swiss hums and flicks his tongue across the vein running along the underside of Mountain’s dick. When Mountain shudders, Swiss does it again, and then sucks on the head a little. Then he flicks his eyes back up to Mountain’s; asking for permission. This time, Mountain doesn’t deny Swiss his oral fixation.

“Go ahead, love.” He grants, and Swiss hums happily.

He sets to work coaxing Mountain close with his mouth. It’s Mountain’s turn to sigh in relief as that skilled tongue does sinful things. Swiss begins bobbing his head rhythmically and it’s all Mountain can do not to thrust into the multi ghoul’s willing mouth.

Still he manages to hold back, letting Swiss get his fill right until he feels his end approaching. Gently, he pulls Swiss off, trying to ignore the uncomfortable rush of cold dry air after so long of that damp warmth.

Mountain tips Swiss’ chin up with a finger to catch him in a claiming kiss, tasting himself on the multi ghoul. When Mountain pulls back, Swiss tries to chase his lips, earning a chuff from the earth ghoul.

“Aren’t you needy tonight.” He teases gently.

“Want you.” Swiss pouts.

“You have me.”

“Nooo.” Swiff huffs. “Want you to fuck me.” Some of the clarity has returned to his eyes and well that won’t do.

“Hmm, and who am I to deny you?” Mountain purrs.

Leaving his wrists tied, Mountain scoops Swiss up and stands, carrying him to the bed. He sets the multi ghoul down on his knees, mirroring his position from the floor, then helps Swiss lean forward onto his chest so his ass is presented to the air.

As a last touch, Mountain retrieves the pillow from the floor and slides it under Swiss’ sternum to help prop him up and make sure he can breathe comfortably even in the awkward position. He knows Swiss doesn’t mind that the pillowcase is dripping with his own pre from when he’d been kneeling on it earlier, if the way he purposely rubs his cheek into it is any indicator.

“This okay?”

“Yeah. Please Mount. Give me it already.” Swiss wiggles his ass and whimpers.

“Patience dear. Don’t want to hurt you. Soon though.” Mountain promises.

He grabs Swiss tail and coaxes him to wrap it around his arm. Then he cups the head of Swiss’ cock, hanging stiff and heavy between his legs. As Swiss squirms at the touch, Mountain gathers enough pre to ease the slide of his fingers. Then with a warning circle of his index over Swiss’ fluttering hole, he sinks two fingers in deep.

Swiss whines at the stretch before settling into a throaty purr as Mountain crooks his fingers just right. He fucks them in and out slowly, working Swiss open until he can fit three fingers up to the third knuckle; petting at Swiss’ prostate all the while.

By this point even Mountain feels himself getting impatient as his own need starts to eat at him. When he withdraws his fingers and replaces them with the head of his cock, Swiss groans in anticipation.

“Ready?”

“Mountyyyy” Swiss whines.

“You’ve got me sweetheart.”

Mountain begins to slowly push in and the both moan wantonly.

“Ohhh.” Mountain grunts. “So tight. Hmm, so pretty like this too. All fucked out and we’ve barely started.”

Swiss is long gone by the time Mountain’s halfway in, back to drooling and making little incoherent noises. When Mountain fully bottoms out, Swiss’ eyes roll back and he goes limps except for the way his tail tightens where it’s circled around Mountain’s forearm. Mountain pauses to let Swiss adjust.

“Feeling good?”

Swiss can only wheeze as Mountain pulls out until just the head of his cock rests inside before sinking back in one fluid movement.

The multi ghoul practically melts as Mountain fucks into him; slow and gentle all the while deep and brain melting. Mountain’s cock manages to hit all the right spots, making Swiss see stars with every push and pull of the earth ghoul’s hips. If his blissed out expression is any indicator, all the nasty thoughts that had been plaguing his brain have been pushed out in favor of pleasure. It’s not too long before Swiss begins rutting his hips back into Mountain’s thrusts; chasing an orgasm he’s on the barest edge of.

“Fuck! I’m close! Mountain!” Swiss sobs, brought to tears by how good it all feels.

Mountain gets a hand around Swiss’ neglected cock and begins to stroke. Swiss keens.

“Then come for me, sweetheart.”

Mountain angles his hips just right before shoving in deep; simultaneously rubbing his thumb over the sensitive underside of the head of Swiss’ dick. The multi ghoul howls as he comes, spilling over the sheets as Mountain grinds his hips against Swiss’ to work him through it. Once he starts shuddering in overstimulation, Mountain stills his thrusts and drops his hand.

“How are you feeling Shadow? Done?”

Swiss cranes his head back best he can to fix Mountain with his best puppy dog eyes.

“Keep going. Please? Want your knot.”

“Want me that bad, yeah? Want to be filled up so well you can’t think?”

A moan is Swiss’ reply.

Mountain grins and resumes his rutting. He lays himself over Swiss’ back to murmur praise and filth in equal measure right into the multi ghoul’s ear. Swiss squirms and whines beneath him as he feels the earth ghoul’s knot inflate and begin pushing at his rim.

“Almost there love. Taking it so well. Ready for me?”

Swiss chokes out a string of “Yes!”s and “Please!”s, breathing heavily and holding the sheets in a white knuckled grip.

Every thrust gets Mountain’s knot a little closer, stretches Swiss’ rim a little more. Finally, Mountain’s knot slides in with a pop. They both groan, Mountain in relief as he paints Swiss’ insides with his spend, and Swiss with the sudden heat and pleasant fullness.

Sated, they both slump down to the bed, Mountain carefully rolling them over to their sides. Mountain frees Swiss’ wrists before wrapping his arms around the multi ghoul and spooning him. He plants kisses all over Swiss’ neck and shoulders as the multi ghoul comes back to earth.

“Back with me, dear?”

Swiss chirps in reply looking back at Mountain and giving him a contented slow blink before beginning a rumbly purr.

“There’s my sweet boy. Feeling better? Head all quiet now?”

Swiss hums happily. “Yeah. Thank you Mounty. Needed that.” He murmurs sleepily.

“Of course love. Anything for my little shadow. As soon as my knot goes down lets get showered off and comfy in bed. Sound good?”

Swiss’ purr deepens in reply.

“Would you like to talk about it in the morning? I promise it’ll help to get some of that stress off your chest. You know I won’t judge.”

Swiss makes a half hearted whimper before flicking his eyes to Mountain’s.

“Okay. I know I need to be better about opening up.” He admits.

“We’ll take it slow love. I know it’s scary but I’m here for you.”

Swiss buries his face in the blankets and Mountain definitely doesn’t notice how he sniffles a little.

“Thank you. Love you.” Swiss murmurs.

“Love you too Shadow.” Mountain holds Swiss close and nuzzles at his nape.

#the band ghost #spicy tag #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #swiss/mountain #swissalps #smut #nameless ghouls #ghost fanfiction #lys writes

13 notes · View notes

warsofasoiaf · 9 months

Note

When an army's sacking a big city and doesn't intend to stay there any longer than it takes to unseat the rulers, how many layers of command are there? How complex are the soldiers' orders? About how many people could be giving those orders?

Depends on the sophistication and professionalization of the attacking enemy forces. A medieval kingdom might only have a king who is sieging the city personally, or delegating authority to a senior vassal, knight, mercenary commander, or viceroy taking charge in his absence. A professional and modern nation-state, however, might have a civilian commander-in-chief, who delegates authority to a military chief of staff, who in turn delegates authority to a service chief, who in turn delegates to a theater commander, who in turn delegates to a field grade officer, who in turn delegates to the actual unit that is charged with taking the city.

Then you go even further. How sophisticated is their junior officer corps, and their NCO corps? How large is the city, and what is the size of the attacking force that needs to conquer this city? Do you need a modern battalion-sized requirement to conquer the city, or can you make do with a regiment? In a medieval setting, is there a single senior knight that has subinfeudated vassals, a major lord like a duke? Is this a multi-national coalition force ala the Crusades or a more modern coalition operation?

And of course, then you have to factor in the very real question of who is in charge after. Do you have a local collaborator? A claimant that sought foreign aid to press their claim? A claimant at the head of a mercenary organization? It gets so complicated that it's better to factor not only technological and organizational concerns, but also local political concerns of legitimacy that a single rule-of-thumb simply cannot service the wide range of consideration that need to be examined.

So in the end, this is a question that benefits from a greater sense of clarification from the opposing army. What is the technological and bureaucratic sophistication from this particular army? Does this nation have a modern notion of the idea of a civilian head-of-state that outranks even the highest generals as a means of subordinating military power under the nation-state?

So the question really becomes "how many troops do you need to take this city?" Once you find that out, then you can answer "what is the grade of officer that would command such a force?" which then becomes "how long is the chain of command?" It's a solid question, but it is one that varies immensely given the times and the sophistication of the military forces that would be in charge.

Thanks for the question, Maker. Good to see you're still around.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King.

#command

49 notes · View notes

artyandink · 2 years

Note

Could o request an Anthony Lockwood x fem reader where they have a love hate relationship where they both always risk their lives for eachother but then it always ends up in fights with one another and one day it leads to a very heated confession.

YOU'RE HEAVEN AND HELL

"Yeah, and what plan did you have, Mr Know-It-All?!"

"Oh shut it, you could have avoided standing in front of a charging ghost!"

"But I knew that plan would work!"

"Or was it a small experiment that could've gotten us both killed?" Lucy and George watched as the two came back from yet another case with yells and insults.

"Is that the fifth argument this week?" George tutted. "We're only two days in."

"And five days away from Armageddon." Lucy predicted. "I swear, these two will destroy all of humanity if they remain at loggerheads."

"Who destroys the other first? I say that Zuri will finish him first." George betted.

"We don't even need to bet some quid, cause I agree."

"I can take care of myself!" Lockwood shouted, making a gesture as if he was karate chopping his other hand.

"Oh, but you clearly can't!" I retorted, stepping forward and mimicking his own gesture.

"Neither can you, to be frank, I had to save you from being locked just yesterday. And now the tables have turned you really think you're the equal of Marissa Fittes and Sir John Fairfax, absolute saviour, aren't you?!"

I drew my rapier quickly, Lockwood matching it quickly.

“Let me show you how much of a bloody saviour I can be.”

“Ok! That’s enough!” Artemis (A/N: My OC, kinda like my signature) clapped her hands, using her own golden rapier to set down ours. “We don’t want a duel in the thinking space, do we?” She turned to George and Lucy, “I sort out something at SP3CTR for a few hours and this is what I’m coming back to. I should be used to it, but I’m not. Please tell me there’s tea or coffee, at least something.”

“We get it, you own a multi-trillion pounds worth company. But doesn’t that we can’t get into arguments.” Lockwood snapped.

“Oh, Tony, that’s your fifth argument this week and it’s only Tuesday. Two days in, five away from Armageddon.” Lucy gestured to Artemis to signal her agreement.

“Lockwood and I won’t cause Armageddon.” I scoffed, flicking my brown hair over my shoulder. “How can you be so sure of that?”

DAY THREE:

Lockwood, Artemis and I went on a case where they were dealing with a particularly difficult Type 2 called Harrison Prescott, who had spent the last few minutes trying to get Lockwood, but when he deemed that useless, he turned to me, and I was unprepared and didn’t notice him coming. I turned around, meeting the ghost’s eyes and falling to the ground, unable to move. This was the end of Zuri Miller. Someone better dance the Macarena at my grave or I’ll rise back from the dead to make someone do it.

“Get away from her!” Lockwood threw a flare, diverting the attention of the ghost. He threw his rapier to me, and I caught it, confused. I had my own bloody rapier with me!

“Lockwood, what the hell?!” I yelled, running forward and slashing wildly at the ghost, but he disappeared before the blade could touch the plasma. Artemis ran out of the other room, dusting off her hands.

“That’s how it’s done, ladies and ladies, let’s go.” She winked, leading us both downstairs.

“I had my own rapier with me, Lockwood, why’d you chuck yours? You couldn’t defended yourself!” I criticised angrily. He jeopardised everything!

“I didn’t see your rapier, and I had a plan!” “What was the brilliant plan, pray tell?”

“I’d give the rapier to you, you attack from behind and we switch between blade and no blade until Artemis dealt with the source!”

“I think that’s an idiotic plan! We’d go better with weapons anyway! Artemis, do you agree with me?”

“I think I’d better do the fighting with one of you from now on. Next case, Lockwood and I will deal with the ghost, Zuri, you deal with the source. Does that make everyone happy?” Artemis bargained, so we both nodded.

DAY FOUR:

I was rifling through the drawers, and found the source, but what I didn’t notice was that the ghost was behind me, snarling.

“I’ve got you, Zuri!” Lockwood was behind the ghost, slashing it expertly, giving me time to pull out the silver net and throw it on just as it went for Lockwood.

“You didn’t have to save me, I had it covered.”

“Oh no, you didn’t! You didn’t notice it was there!”

“You know what?!” Artemis snapped, stopping us all in our tracks. “I’ve had enough of babysitting you two! You’re like Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, you just keep going at each other. So I’ve come up with a solution. You two just aren’t going to speak to each other until this Sunday.”

“Why specifically Sunday? Can’t you extend the bracket?” Lockwood asked, folding his arms.

“Because there’s a job that requires your skill set and my skill set but I can’t make it, I have a conference with the world leaders then. The next best person to fill my position is you, Zuri, so do me a favour and complete the job without any arguments in the afterparty.” She pinched the bridge between her eyebrows, resigning herself for the opposite of her wishes. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Artemis.” We both chorused, a little intimidated under the tech giant’s presence. Her complete worked in protection, so obviously it did well. Plus, she could be intimidating when she wanted to.

“Good. Now, I’m going to get some coffee with my brother. Don’t tear the house apart while you’re at it, yeah?” She sighed, turning on her heel and muttering incessantly as she left.

“Did she say world leaders?!”

DAY SEVEN:

“George! Are you geared up?” Lucy barked, padded with pillows and armed with a cardboard shield and her rapier. George walked out of his room with the same, except he wore a baseball helmet over the top. “Good.”

“Today is Armageddon.” He dramatically announced. “The first day that Lockwood and Zuri will talk to each other after Artemis’ fateful condemning on day 3. They said that Armageddon doesn’t exist. What will scientists say now?”

“Armageddon does exist. See you on the other side, soldier.” Lucy prepared herself, saluting at the same time as George.

“Lockwood and Zuri are due back at 1400 hours.” Artemis announced, coming in through the front door. “Remain prepared, soldiers, for this might be a day we will not survive.”

“You’re playing along?” George gasped in delight.

“Course not. I’m a businesswoman, I state the facts. I’m not worried about those two, and, oh, look at the time.” She checked her watch, “It’s 13:59.”

“HIDE!” George and Lucy dived for cover just as the clock said 2pm, and just then Lockwood and I burst through the door, arguing like hell was breaking loose.

“YOU ABSOLUTELY IDIOTIC NARCISSIST! NOT EVERYTHING IN THIS WORLD’S ABOUT YOU!”

“I’M GONNA STOP BEING YOUR HUMAN SHIELD THEN!”

“FINE! I DIDN’T NEED YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE ANYWAY! MY LIFE WAS PERFECT UNTIL YOU CAME ALONG!”

“OH YEAH? MINE WAS BRILLIANT UNTIL YOU BARGED INTO IT AND RUINED IT COMPLETELY! SOMETIMES I WISH I COULD JUST KISS YOU!”

“THEN WHY DON’T YOU?! I’VE BEEN WAITING A HELLA LONG TIME FOR IT!”It took us both a few seconds to register what we just said, breathing heavily. Artemis counted on her fingers from three to one, taking out her phone. On 1, Lockwood crossed the room, cupping my face in his hands and smashing his lips on mine roughly, making George and Lucy gape and Artemis smirk. My hand reached up to tangle in his brown locks, deepening the kiss. It felt… amazing. Like all that tension I had with him was gone just like that. When we detached, Artemis had finished finding the number, laughing.

“Good job, all that built up tension finally did it.” She rang the number, holding the phone to her ear. “Yeah, Barnes? They did it. You owe me 50 quid, thank you very much.”

“This was all a convoluted plan of yours? To win a bet against Barnes?!” Lockwood panted.

“Yeah, precisely. Gotta put my talents somewhere, don’t I?” She shrugged.

“You bloody-“

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co #artemis hernandez #george karim #lucy carlyle

159 notes · View notes

tjemegames · 2 months

Text

HSR: TJ’s Character Build Archive - Navigation

Hey y’all!

I’ve decided to post all my character builds for anyone who might find that kind of thing interesting or potentially helpful. While I’ve got a decent amount of HSR build knowledge under my belt, you should take everything you see with a grain of salt; I’m not a guide maker and I won’t pretend to be, but I’ll do my best to include my thought process/rationale for the builds that I’ve chosen to use.

If you have any questions about any of my builds or builds in general, don’t be afraid to drop them in my ask box! I might not personally be able to give you the most comprehensive answer about meta or statistical data, but I’m willing to look into it if you’re in need of genuine assistance.

I'll be updating the linked path posts any time a new character or relic set has been announced. Updates will also be made whenever large upgrades have been made on my character's builds.

Changelogs are now in the pipeline (yipee!) Links for the logs will be added to the path posts as they are released; they are listed alongside the "last upgraded" notice at the end of each character's sub-section. You can also find the logs by using #character build changelog, or by text searching "changelog - [character]" on my blog.

"The path presided over by the Aeon Yaoshi. Selfless, altruistic, and healing actions are manifestations of the Path of Abundance."

The path of Abundance exclusively consists of healers. Kits may include:

ally revival

individual/team-wide debuff dispelling

Some units may also offer supportive utilities such as:

personal action advancing

increased energy regeneration, personal crowd control resistance, or break damage buffs

individual ally aggro manipulation

AOE enemy buff dispelling

"The path presided over by the Aeon Nanook. Reckless, wrathful, and destructive actions are manifestations of the Path of Destruction."

The path of Destruction consists of single and multi-target/blast, break, and counter-attack damage dealers. Kits may include:

enhanced basic attacks

follow-up attacks triggered by personal/ally aggro or hp reduction

damage buffs from personal/ally health draining

personal healing

aggro manipulation

"The path presided over by the Aeon Nous. Thoughtful, logical, and strategic actions are manifestations of the Path of Erudition."

The path of Erudition consists of single and multi-target/blast and follow-up damage dealers. Kits may include:

enhanced basic attacks

damage based follow-up attacks

specialized ultimates (multi-tiered damage)

personal/ally damage buffing

"The path presided over by the Aeon Xipe. Understanding, supportive, and cooperative actions are manifestations of the Path of Harmony."

The path of the Harmony exclusively consists of ally-buffing supports. Kits may include:

turn manipulation

enhanced skill point recovery

individual/team-wide buffs to overall damage, atk, crit rate/damage, break effect, speed, or energy regeneration

"The path presided over by the Aeon Lan. Decisive, ruthless, and vengeful actions are manifestations of the Path of The Hunt."

The path of the Hunt consists of single-target, break, and follow-up attack damage dealers. Kits may include:

enhanced basic attacks

team-triggered follow-up attacks

personal action advancing or speed buffing

Individual ally-buffing of speed, damage, or toughness reduction are also possible through March 7th - The Hunt.

"The path presided over by the Aeon IX. Slothful, exhausted, and meaningless actions are manifestations of the Path of Nihility."

The path of Nihility consists of single and multi-target/blast damage dealers and enemy debuffing supports. Kits may include:

specialized ultimates (non-traditional energy charging)

TJ will come back to this section later because nihility is complicated, and I'll need to reread everyone's kits in depth to be accurate here.

"The path presided over by the Aeon Qlipoth. Patient, sacrificial, and protective actions are manifestations of the Path of Preservation."

The path of Preservation exclusively consists of shielders/tanks. Kits may include:

personal character revival or taunting buffs

enhanced basic attacks

aggro-based follow-up attacks

Some units may also offer supportive utilities such as:

buffs to crit rate/damage, effect resistance, or crowd control resistance

personal/team-wide healing or received damage reduction

ally damage mitigation

Yeah, that was more detailed than I was originally planning to be. The yapping demons took over again, apparently. Navigation with a little side of education for your learning pleasure.

Content disclaimers and credits under the cut. Thanks for stopping by!

Important things to note:

All my build showcases have been generated through Fribbels Honkai Star Rail Optimizer.

Fribbels automatically displays your characters at level 80 character and light cone experience so that you can preemptively evaluate their build at its maximum potential.

Fribbels relic scoring weight can be manipulated to meet your personal wants (this is especially useful for making non-damage dealers into true damage dealing characters) and those relics are notated with an (*). Most of my build showcases have been generated with the default weighting intact; any deviations will be notated accordingly.

Following the above point, some of my characters may have multiple different builds: e.g., crit vs traditional Sampo, break vs traditional Guinaifen, 4pc purity palace + keel vs 4pc pioneer + salsotto Aventurine, etc. Each build will be properly titled, and their functionality/niche will be emphasized for clarity’s sake.

If you're interested in generating your own build showcases but you’d prefer to see characters with their current in-game statistics, Enka.Network is an excellent platform to do so. Enka does not currently have a relic scoring feature so you will not be able to see the value of your pieces through their generated showcases. They do, however, have roll quality stat breakdowns that can be toggled on/off.

The quotes listed underneath the Path headers are tidbits sourced from the game's plethora of loading screens. I pulled the text from Fandom's Honkai: Star Rail Wiki page on loading screens.

All the path overviews and kit summaries were written in my own words; however, I did use Prydwen's HSR Character's List to look over the kits of characters that I don't own, so here's their honorable mention.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr character build archive #hsr paths #hsr abundance #hsr destruction #hsr erudition #hsr harmony #hsr hunt #hsr nihility #hsr preservation #tjs hsr shenanigans #tjs navigation posts #tjemegames

9 notes · View notes

floof-writes · 9 months

Text

WARNING: this post includes some negativity about something you might love: D20’s The Seven, specifically choices made by Sephie about Sam Nightingale’s actions and backstory

TL;DR- (Disclaimer, I'm only to episode 5) The way Sephie chose to play Sam makes her seem aloof, toxic, disingenuous, and attention-seeking compared to the rich found-family themes of past Fantasy High seasons and to her fellow characters in this season. Less importantly but still frustrating, she doesn't follow the 'one leveled spell a round' rule. If she had all these flaws and was also funny, I might forgive her. But, alas.

Watching The Seven right now for FHJY and while I have countless good things to say about it, forgive me for instead ranting about the fan beloved Sam Nightingale. While I understand that many people love it, Sam/Sephie’s stage mom backstory gets on my fucking nerves. Especially the viral video thing in episode 5. Sephie blows up a bit (a bit in a comedy show! They're always doing bits!) into something big and then chooses to duck out instead of committing and resolving. I LIVE for emotional moments in D20, I seriously do, but whatever Sephie has been doing just doesn’t work for me. It feels cheap. D20 emotional moments have a ton of build-up through comedy/resistance, and I hate to say it, but Sam is not a funny character. I’m not saying she’s not realistic- she’s traumatized and is going through a lot, but Sephie is playing her in the wrong genre. D20 is a comedy.

Here's the thing: Ally also gets criticism for playing Kristen in a really explicit and overt way, trampling over other roleplay with her trauma, and that is true (sorry Kristen, ily!), but at least what Ally did is funny. Sam isn't. Sephie almost nailed it when Rebecca revealed she was getting divorced- her reaction was both real and comedic, but later when she called Penelope it felt forced/spotlighty/too soon, especially considering she didn't even have a mirror charge left. And that attention-seeky vibe isn’t helped by the fact that Sephie chose to play an ex-child actor: a real-life tragedy that almost always comes off as cheap when fictionalized.

But the parallels between Ally’s Kristen and Sephie’s Sam don’t end there! One of the biggest reasons people were annoyed by Kristen was Ally’s (and to an extent, Brennan/fellow player's), absolute ignorance of the rules about concentration spells, which made her really overpowered in season one. My argument against this as a newbie dnd player was always ‘rule of cool, it was fun to watch and fun to play so it doesn’t matter!', but as a more experienced player I finally understand that frustration even though I tried not to feel it. The same thing happened with Sam in ep 4- she casts two leveled spells in a single turn with Quicken Spell (Lightning Bolt and Fly, and again later with Enthrall and Suggestion), which makes her seem crazily overpowered despite the fact that she’s a 3/6 multi-class among a 9th level druid and a 9th level cleric. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love a good multi-class, but she shouldn’t be outstripping them so handily (Yielle also fucking slayed this fight though).

[A proposed alternate turn for her second mistake: Quicken spell to Enthrall and then use her winged boots and second action to attack the harpy and catch Penny (a ranged cantrip (LIGHTNING LURE) or a weapon attack if the DM allowed that to cause her to drop Penny, opposed strength with Danielle’s Bear Totem advantage if not). It would have been just as cool and displayed better teamwork, plus it was an opportunity to roleplay bonding and show gratitude for the Feather Fall that saved her fucking life.]

In fact, for me, there’s only three rather subjective reasons why I adore Kristen so much and find Sam super annoying: 1. As we've been over before, Kristen is funny. Sam is not. 2. I personally really relate to Kristen’s Overpowering Trauma (tm) and as an amateur actress, find bitter child actress plots absolutely inconceivable (Disclaimer:Jeanette McCurdy’s ‘I’m Glad My Mom Died’ made me fucking lose it). And 3. Kristen's story is about finding love (of herself through romantic but most importantly platonic relationships), supporting others, and understanding the world. Caring so much she self-destructs. Even her famous rule-breaking was usually caused by a conflict with Bless, a spell she cast every time to protect her friends. But Sam has thus far rarely displayed unselfishness, despite knowing the Maidens for nearly twice as long as Kristen knew the Bad Kids by the end of Season One. Kristen was self-centered in that Ally often drew the focus of roleplay towards their character's own issues and sub-plot, (or by being the purest form of the new player paradox and asking to do something crazy.) Sam is self-centered in that same way, and also in that she is literally selfish. Antiope says 'I have an opportunity' and instead of saying 'I get it, the pressure of having a parent who doesn't understand you changes everything, but even then a part of you still wants what they want for you' she says 'so you won't be there for me? How could you?'. Penny saves her life before being snatched into the air like a mouse to a hawk, and Sam is the only one who can fly but she plays the harp instead of helping her in return.

ALL the maidens lost months to more than a year of their lives. All the maidens are grappling with generational expectations, trauma, and pressure just like Sam. The big what-if at the end of highschool. I was only going to point out Antiope and Penny, but this actually seems to be a major theme of the season, since Ostentatia and Zelda also have overt themes of this.

Look, if you’re gonna play angsty, there’s a trick to it. There's this highschool level acting advice I've heard so many times: The worst choice you can make on stage is to be bored, because what is the audience to do except be bored as well? Similarly, if you choose to play disconnected, then how is an audience supposed to connect? In a group of people who have vocalized endless support for you, ‘I’m fine, I'm fine' (as shown in episode 5's viral video scene) is just dishonest, and it's honestly a betrayal of Sephie’s fellow actors who are working to improvise a history of openness and support with Sephie’s character, just so Sam can seem aloof and angsty. Break down in their arms, Sephie! Get flustered and run away! Either ‘I Kiss Her And Skateboard Away/I Burn Two Luck Points To Stop Riz From Finding Out’ OR ‘I Need Everyone To Dogpile On Me Right Now/I Kiss Everyone On The Mouth’ levels of teen angst are needed for this to be actually funny. Sam could've had something unique and iconic up there with Kristen and Fig's struggles with being known, but she isn’t cringefail enough. She's not relatable, and she claims to be bitter but really she's just mean. And again, I never said she isn’t realistic- real life people do the ‘I’m fine’ thing. Real life teenagers make a big deal out of something to tease out sympathy/curiosity over a Hidden Trauma and then duck out of an explanation for the attention of it all. But it isn’t funny and it feels OOC for a maiden who had a year and a half to become fucking codependent (/pos) with these other six girls.

Rant over, something positive to end the post: TaleSpire is so fucking cool! Physical battlemaps are awesome but you couldn't do a 700ft+ chase battle on the dome's tabletop. They really took advantage of using a virtual tool this season and did something they couldn't do otherwise. (Plus the fact that TaleSpire is treated like video game software and has a one time purchase fee instead of a subscription based model is fucking awesome!)

#d20 #the seven d20 #sam nightingale #if you follow her tag I wouldn't read this I love you and I'm not trying to spread negativity #fantasy high #dimension 20 #long post #writing about a character who uses different pronouns than their actor is a real exercise in grammar

24 notes · View notes

literallys-illiteracy · 1 month

Text

I Know im late:

Ok so the new Limbus Releases:

ive been too busy watching streamers to remember to write... or eat but thats also the amphetamine

Multi Crack Office Faust:

src: Eonyan

the Charge potency mechanic is back, and is present in all 3 items of this release; This ID gains charge on Skills 1 and 3, and spends it on skills 1 and 2, which diverges from the standard which W/R corp id's had given us in the past

Passive:

Her passive is able to give increased damage up to 15% more damage while at 5 charge potency, While under 50% HP, gain an up to 25% additional increase to damage; Calculation is (3 x Charge Potency), and a bonus (5 x Charge Potency) under the threshold.

As all 3 charge potency passives, gain 1 charge potency for every 10 charge count spent.

Skill 1:

rolls 11 with no charge, gains 3 charge count on hit. can spend 5 Charge count for coin power, making it roll up to 15.

Skill 2:

Rolls for 16 without charge being spent. spends 10 charge to gain coin power, rolling for 22 Max. If at 5~9 Charge count, spend HP to gain necessary charge for conditional. (between 10 and 2% hp)

If in an envy resonance chain of 3+, which it should be because this is your primary source of damage, consume all charge count on self and deal (Charge potency + 4)% increased damage for every charge count this skill spent, including for the coin power conditional, to a maximum of 180% increase.

When accounting for passive, this is a 220% increase to damage from Kit alone.

Skill 3:

This Skill rolls for 16 base, theoretically at least. as this skill gives you charge, and gains coin power based on charge potency, which will be 1 by default, it's actual lowest-max roll is 19.

If used while you already have charge, this skill can roll for 20, 24, 28, and 32 at 1,2,3, and 4 charge potency respectively.

This skill on its own is able to give between 9 and 16 charge count based on potency which allows you to turn 2 your Skill 2 whilst gaining bonus damage due to the envy fragility which this skill applies.

While at 2+ Charge potency, inflict an additional Envy Fragility. While at 3+ charge potency, deal 8% increased damage on coin 4, max of 40% at 5 Potency.

This ID strikes a balance between gaining and spending charge count; The mechanic of charge potency works well with the skills 1 and 2 spending charge, rather than the skill 3 like previous ID's.

I do find that there is sometimes a difficulty in fights to gain your charge count efficiently due to your s2 being your most consistent skill, your skill 1 being slightly negative on charge, and only having 1 S3 in your deck.

Defence Skill:

Her defence skill is named charge and gives her charge.

Dimension Shredder Outis:

src: qiujia_UvU

Shockingly this EGO is not multi coined, depsite how long the animation is. Im starting to think that this is simply a thing with Charge related EGO and ID's because i predicted for the new ID's that they would reuse coins, the W corp Outis ID that it would reuse coins, and that this EGO would be multi coined.

This EGO rolls a 30, with an offence level of +5.

if at less than 10 Charge count, take 10% non lethal HP damage to gain +10 Charge count.

Consume all charge count on use, deal 1% increased damage for every charge count spent. (Max 30%) (technically consumes up to 40 Charge count, but the highest possible count outside of MD is 30, and there is no benefit higher than 30%)

Attack Weight 4, gains attack weight based on highest resonance, up to 6 attack weight total.

My main problem with this EGO is that it cant properly function without the use of W corp Outis, not only because it wants charge to function, but also because it wants Charge POTENCY, so even if she had another charge ID it wouldnt work to full efficiency.

[On hit] Inflicts Dimensional rift, max of 2 at 3 Charge Potency.

[On Hit] Gain 1 Haste and Load (something something outis gaining a load) for each charge potency. Note that you do in fact need charge potency to gain any, as this skill will consume ALL charge count, meaning that without a potency passive your Potency will be Zero. only 3 of either can be gained per use of the skill, which means that as long as you have W corp Outis passive, and 2 avaliable targets you gain max value from this.

[On kill] Does anybody give a shit about the on kill effects.

---

Passive:

max charge count +5, for a max of 25*

heres the other case of Needing charge potency to make use of this: skills which consume charge deal 2% increased damage for (Charge Potency - one), meaning that 6 is needed to gain the cap of 10%, and 2 is needed to activate this at a minimum.

Multi Crack Office Heathcliff:

i couldn't find any art of him in like my 2 mins of searching.

Passive:

charge potency for charge spent, as usual.

when at 2+ charge potency, gain haste, which will be important Later. At 3+ potency, gain additional Haste and clash power Up

Skill 1:

Rolls for 10, Spends 5 charge to roll 12. Gains 4 charge, making it 1 negative for charge count.

Skill 2:

Rolls for 13 base. Consumes charge//HP with the same conditional as faust's skill 2 to roll for 19.

This skill inflicts up to 4 defence level down, and 2 HP healing down, which makes its return from like 5 events ago in Hells Chicken.

A new effect, named photoelectricity, which gives the attacker charge count equal to count on hit (or count +3 if they are below 5 count), similar to Spark discharge but without the rupture count

Skill 3:

rolls for 13 base. Gains charge count based on potency, anywhere between 10 and 19 charge count.

at 2 and 4 charge potency rolls for 17 and 21 respectively.

inflicts the photoelectricity effect on hit. inflicts same turn Blunt fragility on hit, however as he gains haste from his passive, its not as bad as some others, however it means that he cant inflict both blunt fragility and defence level down in the same turn without using multiple slots.

Defence skill:

His defence skill is named charge and gives him charge

#project moon #limbus company #limbus #lcb #projmoon #essays i wrote primarily while half asleep #outis limbus company #outis lcb #outism #lcb heathcliff #faust lcb #faust #Gameplay review #latest release #literally's literal illiteracy

13 notes · View notes

kyberblade · 2 years

Text

Shatter - Caught Off Guard (Din x Reader)

A/N: It’s finally here! I’m so excited to share this with all of you. I hope you love these characters as much as I have fallen in love with them. The reader has a name in this fic, but that’s the only descriptor of her. Past that, nothing else, I don’t think. I still use “you” mostly, the name is only used a handful of times. This was meant to be a multi chapter fic, but it’s just not wanting to translate that way, so it’s going to be a series of one shots and a whiff of continuity. Please feel free to send me scenarios, prompts, requests for these crazy kids! Just remember to stick to the rules.

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Snark, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, Din is a warning in and of himself in this one. Typical show violence. Light swear words. Space swearing. My Mandalorians do what they want. Banter. So much banter. And you’ll probably fall in love with them like I did. (I don’t make the rules.)

Word count: 11,767

Thanks to @grippingbeskar for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.

Also a shout out to @blondiwankenobi, @what-the-heckin-heck, and @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis for reading it over for me as I went and telling me I wasn’t crazy. (And @deceiverofgodss for helping me with the Mando’a - You’re a life saver.)

| Series Masterlist | Next

Xxx

Din’s head was swimming. He’d had delegate after delegate paraded in front of him, cabinet member after cabinet member, he couldn’t keep them all straight. This one did that and that one did this and these did those and he was about to scream.

He’d never wanted the Darksaber to begin with, much less all of…. This that came with it. The politicking, the rules, the traditions at every corner. What title he had to go by, how people were allowed to address him and he them, and a whole slew of other atrocities he didn’t even want to think about. He’d never wanted to be just Din so badly in his life. Not even Mando was applicable anymore, the one time a visiting senator had let it slip in idle conversation, a whole courtroom of T visors had turned at the moniker, and Din knew instantly that was out.

They had to address him as the Mand'alor and not much else, the monotony of the title growing thin in his mind.

The only time his interest has been piqued for days was with the introduction of his head of strategy and tactics. You had been introduced as Ti, just Ti, and he’d tilted his head ever so slightly to get a better look at you.

You’d nodded once at him in respect before standing at attention once again, straight as a tree on Endor, head held high. Your full beskar was painted, white with hints of the bare silver shining through here and there, almost like features, light and shadows. It stood out almost as much as his own polished beskar, he thought with amusement. So you weren’t shy.

His softer musings soon faded once you opened your mouth and began to retort the proposed security arrangement, an irritation growing faster than he’d ever felt before. He didn’t understand how such a lovely voice could be so instantly grating so quickly.

“I disagree,” you’d said, staring down at the holo table projecting the proposed guard rotations for the next week. “If we leave it like this, we leave ourselves, and most importantly the Mand'alor, open to an attack.”

Din snorted. “Who is going to attack right now? Does anyone even know this isn’t a ghost planet anymore?”

You’d stared at him, your gaze unwavering. “With respect, Mand'alor, I am the head of security at the moment-”

“I thought you were strategy and tactics.”

“I am. But because of our low numbers, I am also in charge of security, as I said. And it would be a good strategy to not leave ourselves vulnerable like this. Our tactics need to be much more thorough and thought out.”

Din let out a huff, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at the table.

“May I go on?” You asked after a moment, your voice sounded amused.

“Yes, go on,” Din made an impatient gesture with one hand before crossing it back over his chest.

“Okay. As I was saying, right now, anyone who cares to attack will know our numbers are low, and will attack here and here,” you touched two glaringly void areas that beeped then enlarged to show your point. “I think we need to rearrange our guards over here, and post more at this wall. That way we aren’t left open.”

Din stared at the table in silence, watching it simulate your proposal on a loop. “Do what she says,” he finally mumbled, turning and walking away.

Each encounter had gone on like that. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was about you that was driving him crazy, he just knew whenever you seemed to show up, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and a queasy feeling like indigestion twisted in his gut. He’d reverted to his old habits of silence and ominous staring, hoping eventually you might take the hint and simply quit pointing at the holo tables so effectively.

You were never wrong, your insight extremely valuable to him, but ever since that first day, he just rolled his eyes under his helmet whenever your name was mentioned.

It didn’t help that Grogu thought you hung the moon. He was your little green shadow at all times, cooing after you, and trying desperately to scale your armor and find purchase in your arms. The two of you weren’t often separated, and where one was, the other was surely close by. Din felt a tugging at his heart strings as he watched you go over the weekly report at the holo table, his son climbing all over your shoulders and helmet as if it were his own personal playground. The strings cinched tight when the child began to fall once, a relieved sigh passing through his modulator when you reached out without a second look and caught him before he could fall far, the child giggling like that was his plan all along.

You’d become a necessary evil in his life, but one he wasn’t starting to mind all that much. Sure, you got on his absolute last nerve, but you did it without stepping on eggshells around him like everyone else. You stomped right on through unapologetically, and he had to admit, he admired that.

The child lightly tugged at the holster of your blaster from his spot in his floating cradle next to you, and without even glancing his way, you gently unhooked his hand and pushed it back into the cradle as he squealed softly.

Moments like this were cracking Din’s resolve. It was hard to hate someone who made the mundane look so damn…. Good.

It was one of these days when it happened. An attack, out of the blue. Stormtroopers flooded the buildings, blaster fire was heard around every corner, the thudding of footsteps echoing off the still barren walls.

Quickly punching the code into his vambrace, the kid’s cradle shut tight with him inside before it hovered over to his side. Standing at the ready, Din suddenly found himself pushed behind you, stumbling slightly at the impact of your body against his. “Move!” He growled.

“No.”

“That’s an order,” Din tried again, attempting to push around you. The words felt foreign coming out of his mouth and sounded even more bizarre even to his own ears. This wasn’t him, he wasn’t a leader, it was just supposed to be him and the kid on a ship somewhere quiet and warm.

Shrugging out of his grip, you rounded on him, staring right into his visor. “With all due respect, I still decline to oblige as it’s a stupid maneuver.”

Din scoffed.

“Oh, get your helmet on straight and stay behind me!” You just register his helmet tilting to the side as you turn your back to him. “I’m still your head of security, strategy and tactics, and the answer to all of that is me protecting you.”

“I can protect myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”

A stormtrooper ran into the room right then, and both of you drew and fired your blasters in the blink of an eye, the shots sounding in tandem. The trooper fell with a thud, skidding across the floor on the front of their armor for a few inches before scraping to a halt.

“As you can see, you need my protection.”

Din simply stared at the back of your helmet, dumbfounded. “And what makes you think that?”

“I just shot that trooper first!”

“No, I did!”

You barked out a laugh, helmet tilting back with the effort. “No. No, that was me, Mand'alor.”

“Call me Din,” he grunted after a moment. “I’m getting really tired of that title.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want, just stay behind me.”

One of the officials who had been ducked behind a nearby wall ran over, standing just off to your right, facing the both of you. “We have to get out of here, Din-”

“You don’t get to call me that,” Din said sternly, finger raised and pointing at the man in warning.

“Oh. My mistake. I thought you just said-”

“You thought wrong.”

“I knew it. I told all of you this was going to happen,” you hissed, looking around the room, hand coming to the side of your helmet to change your display.

“You were right. Are you happy?” Din’s droll tone made you smile as you continued to scan the room.

“Only that I was right, but not in what I was right about. I would never be happy about our planet or our people suffering again for any reason.” You zeroed in on what you were looking for at the back of the room as you looked over Din’s shoulder. “I hope you know that,” you added softly, turning your visor just enough to look at him straight on, having to tilt your head back just slightly.

He only nodded after a moment of hesitation, his gaze holding yours a moment too long to be considered a simple response.

Explosions in the distance echoed off the stone walls, the low sound waves concussing against your chest, vibrating in your beskar unsettlingly.

“We need to get to that room back there,” you pointed with your blaster at the far wall. “There’s a hidden entrance to secret passageways that will get us to the hangars so we can get off planet and regroup.”

“Not to sound like a pessimist, but what good will that do?” Din’s voice was dry, sardonic. “We already regrouped here, and look where that got us.” He held his hands out to the sides, gesturing to the chaos that surrounded everything. “My friend was right when he said the Empire turned this planet to glass.”

Another explosion rocked the stone walls, this one closer, pieces of rubble and dirt skittering along the floor from the impact.

“Then I’ll shatter.”

The two of you shared a long look, the heavy implication of your words not wasted on him. For weeks now you had gotten on his absolute last nerve, and he tried to blame it on so many things, but he saw now it was simply due to the fact that the two of you were too similar for your own good. Fire feeds fire, and rain can turn a trickle into a torrent. The two of you fed into the other unconsciously and it made sparks in a dry forest, dangerous and deadly.

He nodded once. “We both will.”

“This is the way,” you offered.

“This is the way,” he returned.

TIE Fighters screamed overhead.

“But the Empire is gone!” The official cried, still standing where you’d left him, hands darting above his head as part of the ceiling crumbled down.

“Tell them that!” You yelled, tilting your head up toward the TIEs in question, and you swore you heard the Mand'alor- Din laugh.

“Whatever is left of them, they obviously intend to finish what they started,” you shouted over the roar of approaching blaster fire. “We need to move now.”

The two men followed after you silently as you approached the hidden door, scanning it for the opening mechanism tucked away somewhere.

“How do you even know about these tunnels?” Din asked hurriedly, turning and watching the main door while you felt the stones for a pressure plate.

“I’m the head of security. It’s my job.”

The official snorted a laugh, two T visors turning his way in question. “The child found them last week while they were playing hide and seek. She couldn’t find him for almost a whole day. When she did, the poor thing had fallen asleep just on the other side of the door.”

“So that’s why he was bouncing off the walls that one day. I couldn’t figure it out,” Din mumbled absently. “He got a nap way too early. I barely slept that whole night.”

“You lived,” you said after a second, staring at him only a moment longer before turning back to the wall and pressing the plate you’d finally found.

Any further conversation was drowned out by the loud grinding mechanism of stone against stone as the door slid open slowly. Much too slowly.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you mumbled, gesturing needlessly at the door.

“Say it again, maybe it’ll listen.”

You slowly turned your head to level a glare at Din’s snark. Once it was fully open, you stepped to the side and held out your arm toward the opening. “Ladies first.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” the official said, brushing past the two of you and your prickly stare off. Once he was in the tunnel, he called back to the both of you, his voice echoing in the maze of hallways. “Are you two going to just stand there and make eyes at each other, or are you coming in?”

“We aren’t making eyes at each other,” Din mumbled bitterly as he stomped into the chamber, the floating cradle following after him.

“Maybe you weren’t, but I was,” you said offhandedly, enjoying teasing him. “What good is a helmet if you can’t creepily stare at someone occasionally?”

“That is not the way,” Din grumbled.

“It’s a way,” you countered. Stepping into the hallway, the door shut behind you with a thud.

The three of you exchanged looks for a long moment before you finally broke the silence, turning to the official. Drawing your blaster and pressing the end of the muzzle right up against the soft exposed part of his chin under his helmet, you cocked it, ready to fire. Stepping in close, putting your body between them, your blaster whirred as it charged up.

“You know, I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Ti, lower your blaster.” Din’s tone was low, almost soft.

“Why? This guy shows up a few days ago, and before I’ve had a chance to fully vet him, suddenly the Empire is knocking on our door. So tell me, official, sir,” your voice turned mocking, the end of your blaster digging into the soft spot under his chin, making his head tilt back slightly. “Did you have any part in this?”

“No,” he was quick to answer, voice emphatic.

“Ti….” Din’s warning was once again ignored.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” You shifted your weight slightly, adjusting your hold on your blaster.

“You’re going to have to trust me.”

“Ti.” Din’s voice was more firm, slightly louder, but still you ignored it.

“I don’t have to do shi-”

“Ti! I said that’s enough!” Din boomed, pulling you off of the official who relaxed with a sigh, his shoulders rolling forward. “Stand down!”

“It’s my job to protect you, Mand’alor,” you hissed. “Everything I said is true. His clearance was stalled and I wasn’t able to fully vet him yet. He could be-”

“I will vouch for him.” Din’s words stopped you short, making you take a small step back. “He’s been helping me all week with all the little things, and right now, I trust him.” He reached out and disarmed your blaster, the whirring winding down as you lowered your arm. “So trust me.”

Shaking your head at him after a moment, you shoved your blaster into its holster before turning back to the stranger.

“I still didn’t catch a name.”

After a deep breath, he began to rattle off something in Mando’a, but you cut him off.

“Speak plainly,” you said. “There is no need to stand on pomp and circumstance right now.”

“It is tradition!” He floundered.

“There is a time and place for tradition.” Looking around the small hidden passageway you were crammed into, an explosion rocked the walls from somewhere nearby, the low sound waves making dirt crumble down from the ceiling between you. “This isn’t it.”

Nodding slowly with a sigh, he dug into the pocket of his belt, producing a small comlink. “Take this,” he handed it to you. “It has a message for the Mand'alor explaining everything. You have to get on a ship and get out of here.” Blaster fire sounded down the hallway, all three helmets turned toward the sound before they looked back to one another, hands now resting idly on their blasters. “Go to hangar 5, there is a gift for the Mand'alor from his friend Boba Fett. It still needs many repairs, but you can fix it as you go-”

“Go? Go where?” Din cut in.

“Somewhere safe,” the official said on a sigh.

“Is anywhere safe?”

“I hope so. For the sake of our planet and its new ruler, I hope so.”

“I still didn’t catch your name,” you say hurriedly, taking a few steps backwards down the hall towards your destination.

“My name isn’t important,” he shook his head before waving you down the hall, drawing his blaster. “Now go!” He stood by the door, blaster in hand, ready and waiting should their secret hideout be found.

“How do you know the way?” Din asked after a few turns.

“After I found them, I mapped them out and marked them like we do our coverts.” You stopped abruptly, rounding on him and reaching out to press the side of his helmet and activate his display, ignoring his grunt in response. Whirling back around, you began again as you forged forward. “I marked them with corresponding letters in Basic, should a visiting diplomat ever need to use them. The hangars should be this way.” You pointed straight ahead, walking a bit faster.

Din looked around at the various symbols now visible through his display. There were so many. This place was a maze. Turning to look behind him, he saw a single symbol leading back toward the throne room. A mythosaur. Squinting to see what was smudged to the side, Din backtracked a few steps to get a closer look, and saw the smallest little mudhorn beside each mythosaur. Reaching his hand up, he lightly traced over the symbol, jumping slightly when he heard you call his name, glancing over his shoulder to see you motioning him forward. With one last look at the sigil, he turned and began to follow you again.

Darting down the hallways, the child’s cradle in tow, you were both careful to make the least amount of noise possible. Sometimes the sounds of battle on the other side of the wall sounded like they were on the other side of a piece of paper, and would break through at any moment.

“This feels wrong,” Din sighed as you ducked past a particularly thin part of the wall.

“What do you mean?”

“They are out there fighting for our planet, for me, and I’m in here, running away.”

You snorted. “You think they’re fighting for you? Someone has a big head.”

Din scoffed. “For the last few weeks all I’ve been told by every official at my ear is how every Mandalorian will do everything they can in defense of our planet and its new protector.”

You let out a soft groan, rolling your eyes. “No pressure, guys…. Kriff. I’m sorry. If I had heard them I would have knocked some sense into them.”

“I take it you would have done so violently?” Din chuckled.

You shrugged. “I like to have variety.”

“Why is your first response to everything so….”

“Violent?” You teased.

“Physical.”

Sobering up a bit, you tried to focus on your breathing. “You remember what it’s like out there, out in the galaxy on your own.”

“I do. I miss it,” Din agreed softly.

“I do, too. Well, most of it. I’m not like you. I’m not a big scary bounty hunter with a reputation to make someone think twice before messing with me. They see a Mandalorian, and sure, they pause before they do something stupid, but I’m just a random Mando, and a woman at that. Most people are idiots. We don’t mix well.”

Din chuckled.

“It’s become a defense mechanism, and I forget I can turn it off now that I’m here…. Now that I’m home.” Your voice had grown soft.

“Mandalore is home for you?”

“No. But isn’t it supposed to be? That’s what’s instilled in us, at least. Or it feels like it. I was a foundling, a victim of another war torn planet in the Empire’s early days.”

“I…. I was also a foundling.” Din isn’t sure he actually said that out loud.

“I know,” you returned equally as soft.

“I was raised in the fighting corps, just like you, then swore the creed. Only to find out I had sworn to a cult, The Children of The Watch.”

Din stopped in his tracks, all of this sounding too familiar.

Sensing his reaction, you turned to face him, stopping as well. “I know what you’re thinking. Yes, it’s true. They are a bunch of radicals who take The Way to an extreme, Din. We’re not meant to live our lives stuck behind a visor, surrounded by a world of black and white. We’re not supposed to have no one to share all of life’s special moments with. How does it make sense to never see the eyes of someone special to you, once you find them? How they smile when you say their name? The way their face crinkles up when they laugh at your horrible jokes? And that’s assuming your person is another Mandalorian. If they aren’t, there’s still a visor in the way, between you and them. Not only would you not see their eyes, you wouldn’t see them with your own eyes. Tell me how that makes sense.”

“It-”

“And don’t tell me it’s because we are all the same in beskar.” You shifted your weight to one leg, rolling your head to the other side as you kept your gaze on him. “I know for a fact you would throw seventy five percent of your cabinet members to a pack of Jawas for scrap and they all wear beskar. You don’t think of them as equal. You don’t even tolerate them more. The beskar makes no difference. All it does is keeps us safe from a galaxy trying to hunt us down, and at the same time, keeps us from truly connecting with others.”

A moment of silence settled between you before Din asked softly, “Have you ever removed your helmet?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation. “And so have you.”

Din took in a sharp breath, stumbling back a bit as the words hit him in the chest. It was the first time he’d heard them out loud since he’d told the Armorer he had.

“And yet here you are, Din, Mand’alor, and a Mandalorian in the eyes of everyone who matters.”

“So you still consider me Mandalorian?”

You scoffed. “Of course I do. I just said in the eyes of everyone who matters, didn’t I?” Turning, you began down the hallway, looking for the next symbol to guide your way.

Din laughed. “Oh, okay. I’m sorry.” He began walking again. “And you say I have a big head.”

“Oh, I know I have a big head. You, I only have suspicions about.” You turned to look at him over your shoulder, head slightly tilted in amusement. “But you keep confirming my suspicions.”

Finally making it to the last set of symbols indicating the hangar, you used your helmet to look through the wall for heat signatures, holding one arm out to the side in an effort to keep Din behind you.

“Looks like it’s empty, thank the Force.”

“Mar’e,” Din breathed. (“At last.”)

“I’m surprised you didn’t push past me,” you mumbled as the door slid open after you activated the hidden switch. “I had my arm out and everything, ready for a fight.”

“I’m saving my energy,” he said lowly, the smallest hint of teasing to his tone as he stood directly behind you, waiting for the door to come to a stop.

Letting out a snort of laughter, you dropped your arm to your side, shaking your head gently at his antics. “At least my job is never dull.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he added softly, a chuckle making his voice bounce over the words.

With a soft click the door came to a stop, leaving a gaping hole in front of you. Signs with arrows pointing to the numbered hangars rested high on the walls.

“Just a little further and we’ll be at hangar 5. Right through there….” You pointed straight ahead, seeing a pile of scrap metal through the small doorway. Letting out a sigh, you began towards the door quickly. “I hope that pile of junk doesn’t block the way of the shi….” As you crossed the threshold, you realized the pile of scrap was the ship. “….p.” You finished the word with a pop, your modulator crackling with the sound, eyes going wide as you surveyed something surely not flightworthy.

Both you and Din spoke at the same time.

“Kriff.”

“Mesh’la.”

Whipping your head to the side to stare at him, you tilted your helmet to show just how confused he’d made you. “Beautiful? Really? You’re calling that…. Thing beautiful?”

“I am and it is….” His voice was wistful as he approached the relic, reaching up to run a hand lightly along the surface of the old Razor Crest.

“Our goal is to escape, not die,” you said dryly, staring at him in mortification.

He lolled his head over to look at you, and you couldn’t help the small smile the motion brought to your face.

“If that’s your goal, this ship will get you there.”

Letting out a soft groan, you dug through your pouch on your belt to find the comm that would explain all this.

“Maybe there’s an explanation from your friend. Surely. I mean, if my ‘friend’ sent me this pile of bantha fodder, I’d-”

“Okay,” Din cut you off, his voice lilting with restrained laughter. “Send the message through our helmets so nobody overhears.”

“If anyone does, we can just offer them the piece of shit behind us. No, wait, they wouldn’t even want it. So much for negotiations….” You grumbled as you began fumbling with the comlink. “Isn’t your friend some super rich crime lord or something?”

Din chuckled. “Something like that. Why?”

You slammed the comlink against your palm with a growl. “This is the lowest grade, oldest comlink I have seen in years. I’m surprised it even has the option to project to another source. Couldn’t he splurge or something, or at least send something that isn’t possibly twenty years old?”

Boba’s voice filled both of your helmets. “Is it recording?”

You sighed. “I guess that answers my question.”

“My friend,” Boba began in a loud, friendly voice. “I came across this beauty in a game of chance, and instantly knew it was meant to replace the one you lost. She hasn’t been treated very well, and needs someone to show her some love and affection, but who better to do that than you?” He let out a deep laugh, and you noticed Din shaking his head at his friend’s words.

“There is no carbonite chamber, of course, like on your last one, but a bench that doubles as a workbench and a small kitchen. I thought the foundling would approve of the change,” he chuckled over his words.

As the laughter died off on a heavy breath, his tone turned more somber. “I can never repay you for your help here with the Pikes. But I hope this maybe can begin that process, however long it takes.”

His voice took on its earlier more playful tone again. “I look forward to doing business with Mandalore. I hear their new leader is wise, if not somewhat of a di’kut sometimes.” (“Idiot.”)

“Until next time, my friend. Ven’cabuo Manda’yaim darasuum.” (“Forever shall you protect Mandalore.”)

After Boba’s message had clicked off, you glanced down at the ancient comlink again.

“There’s a second message.”

Pressing the button, a female voice filled your helmets.

“Hello, Mando.”

You recognized the voice from a few run ins on various missions before. “Is that-”

“Fennec Shand,” Din finished, and he sounded like he was smiling.

Fennec sighed on the recording. “I tried to talk him out of it. I really did. I even tried to get him to take it to Peli just for some basic maintenance so that it wouldn’t blow up the first time you turn it on, but Boba wouldn’t stand for it.” She sighed again. “Something about the bond between man and ship and something…. I don’t know.”

She chuckled softly, her voice lowering near a whisper. “But I snuck Peli and some of her pit droids into the hanger a few nights ago to just do the basics, make sure it at least turns on smoothly for you once it gets there. Doesn’t flood the hangar with black smoke like it did here. That smell won’t come out for months.”

Boba’s voice in the background crackled over the speaker. “Fennec?”

Her voice rushed out. “I’ve got to go. Hope you enjoy the ship. Come by and see us sometime, I know Boba would enjoy it, but he would sooner take a blaster shot to the-”

“Fennec?”

“Don’t die,” she whispered in amusement before the line went dead.

“Can’t say that’s horrible advice,” you said quietly, stuffing the comlink back into your belt.

“Don’t die. Got it.” Din nodded once, his voice somewhat mocking as he reached to access a panel on the side of the ship. It took some effort, rust sealing it shut, but with a tug, it swung open with a squeak. He pressed a button to lower the ramp, gears whirring and grinding within the deep dark recesses of the wreck, a loud moan of protest sounding from deep within. Swiping his hand against the little door to shut the panel back, it slammed closed, then fell to the ground with a graceless clatter, both of your visors following its descent silently.

You took a deep breath, about to speak, but Din interrupted you. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Even if it was something nice?”

He looked at you. “Okay. If it was something nice. Let’s hear it.”

You hooked your thumbs into your belt, turning your visor to look at the ramp as it began to inch lower toward the ground.

“Well?” Din finally prodded when you stayed silent.

Looking back to him, you shrugged. “I didn’t say what I had to say was nice. I was just asking what if.”

Din let out a huff, hands going to his hips as he turned to watch the ramp lower.

Grogu’s cradle opened to reveal his wide eyes blinking up at the two of you, looking between you both with a soft babble.

“Hey, kid,” you said softly, tilting your head as you looked at him. “We’re almost out of here, okay? Just a little bit further.” You turned back to the ramp that was stuck only a few inches lower than it had been when you looked away. “I hope. If this hunk o’ junk will make it to the other side of this.”

“It will,” Din confirmed fondly, slapping the side of the Crest affectionately, the ramp suddenly dropping several feet from the impact, stopping abruptly with a bang as the hydraulics locked up.

Grogu let out an amused coo as you all looked on in silence, the only other sound the ramp lowering with a struggle. Jerky, broken, bangy movements and noises echoing throughout the hangar. Smoke was coming out of weird places.

“Mhi lise shi vercopaanir.” You simply stared at the ramp as it stuttered the last few inches, dropping the last little bit with a thud. (“We can only hope.”)

Lights flickered on inside the ship, finally staying lit with a soft hum as a few decided it was still a struggle and blinked in trepidation.

“It will,” Din said emphatically, turning to you. “My Razor Crest served me well until Moff Gideon blew it up, otherwise it was doing just fine.”

You snorted out a laugh, turning to face him as well. “Yeah, that’s what I heard.” You chuckled. “I think Karga told me once when he visited a few weeks ago you showed up on Nevarro and the ship was held together with twine?”

He growled softly. “That was Mon Calamari, I had nothing to do with that patch job.”

You nodded, humming in amusement. “Mmm-hmm.”

“I didn’t!” He protested after a moment.

Holding up your hands as if in surrender, you can’t help the snicker that slips out. “I believe you!”

Rapid footsteps suddenly came racing around the hangar entrance, and four stormtroopers poured into the small space.

“I found them!” One said, signaling the others.

“Blast them!” Another yelled.

Before they got a single shot off, the two of you had dropped them all to the ground, smoking blaster holes in their armor with deadly precision.

Turning, you find you’ve both stepped in front of the kid’s open cradle, blocking him with your beskar before opening fire. Exchanging a look, you both turn back to face one another, but don’t step away, staying in front of the kid.

The weight of the situation settled in the air between you once again. You’d both allowed yourselves to get lost in banter and teasing, until it came roaring back into your field of view with its very real and present threat.

You kept your voice even, speaking clearly but quickly. “Take your ship, your N1. It’s off the grid, and if we need to make a fast break, we can split up.”

Nodding, he reached into the cradle and took out his son, holding him close in the crook of his elbow, looking down into his tiny face for a brief moment before he lifted his gaze back up to hold your own. Without a word, he handed you Grogu. His gloved hand lingered on the tip of one large green ear before he withdrew his touch altogether.

“Take the child. They know my ship, and if they shoot me down on our way out of here, he’s in your care.”

You looked at him for a long moment before nodding once. “This is the way.”

“This is the way.” He unclipped the Darksaber from his belt before handing it to you, as well. “Better take this, too. Just in case.”

“No, I can’t-”

“I’m not asking you to take Mandalore, I’m trying to hand something to you for safekeeping.” He pressed it into your hand, closing both of his around yours. “I want that back.” Then he nodded to the kid. “And I guess I’ll take that back, as well.” You chuckled. “Once we reach the other side of this mess.” He began to back away towards his ship.

“On the other side,” you agreed.

“Be. Good.” Din leaned forward slightly, waving a stern finger close to the child’s face where he still sat in your arms.

“I’m going to pretend you were talking to the kid and I’m not offended.”

“I was-” Din let out an aggravated huff when he looked back up and saw your head tilted teasingly.

“Go,” you urged, pointing to the hangar next door with your blaster, still in your hand after shooting the troopers. Placing the child back in the cradle, you continued when you still didn’t hear his footsteps. “We’ll be right behind you.”

Turning after another long moment of silence, you found him still standing a few feet away.

His weight shifted, like he was going to take a step away, but he remained in one spot. “If I don’t-”

You held up your hand to stop him, holstering your blaster with the other. “Nope. Don’t even finish that sentence. I’ll see you on the other side, Din.”

He nodded hesitantly, taking one step backwards before he stopped again, lingering.

Closing the cradle back up to secure the kid, and gesturing it up the ramp and into the ship, you closed the distance between you and your fellow Mandalorian in just a few quick steps. Standing toe to toe with him, your head craned back just slightly to hold his gaze with your own, you put one gloved hand on his armor clad chest and pushed gently. He began to take small steps back, and you matched every one with a step forward.

“The kid will be safe with me. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to him. It’ll be just as if he were with you. When you get on your ship, open your comms to channel two, it’s secure and I’ll try and kick this bucket of bolts behind me into gear enough to meet you there. I’ll need some help to get this monstrosity into the air, and I have a feeling you know all her secrets, so I need your head in the game, Din. Not just for me, but for the kid. If I can’t fly the shitty ship, I can’t keep him safe. Understand?”

You stopped when the slight clink of his beskar bumping into his N1 sounded in the vacant hangar.

He tilted his head at you for a long moment before he straightened again and nodded, climbing into the cockpit.

Taking a few steps backward as he powered it up, you kept your eyes on him, watching as his shoulders rolled back, his head coming up just a little higher, his movements precise.

“Din?”

He turned to look at you as the engines began to whir.

“Don’t die.”

The transparisteel slid over the cockpit, sealing him in, but you both stared blatantly at the other for another long moment before you began to take a few steps backwards towards the Razor Crest. Finally turning to face the ugliest ship in the galaxy, you jogged the last few feet, pulling the lever to shut the ramp once you were inside, and hoping beyond hope that it would close.

It protested loudly, but it closed without a hitch, sealing with a hiss once it was flush with the hull again. Gesturing the cradle up into the cockpit, you climbed the ladder after it, sending it into one of the copilot seats once the doors had shut behind you.

Opening the cradle once again, the child jabbered at you happily.

“Hey, kid. You recognize this place?” You began flipping all the necessary switches, pressing the buttons, some of them requiring extra pressure or repeated attempts.

The engines roared to life with a choking sputter at first before they purred like a well oiled machine. An alarm signaling you were being hailed began to blare, and it took three jabs of the button before it answered the call.

“Din, this ship may be falling apart, but your mechanic friend did something I can only call a miracle for the engines.” Something fell off under the console with a clatter. “They are purring.”

“You can tell her when we get there.”

You hesitated. “We’re going to Ta-”

He cut you off. “Just in case this line isn’t secure- I know you said it is, but just to be safe- don’t say it. Yes. That’s where we’re going.”

Something else fell off the side of the cockpit, falling to the floor and skittering across, coming to a stop at the bottom of the kids chair, making you hiss through your modulator.

“This ship may be running as smooth as fine wine, but that won’t do any good if it falls apart around those perfect little engines.” The console itself vibrated at a high frequency, blurring as it moved around all the button and switch slots. Your teeth chattered as you spoke. “I didn’t sign up for this.”

Din chuckled over the comm. “Kick to your right under the console.”

“Do wh-”

“You heard me. Just do it.”

Swinging your boot forward and giving it a good kick, the vibrating stopped instantly. You let out a snort. “Your ship was just fine, yeah right.”

Something began to thunk to your left.

“Smack the wall beside the sound twice.”

Reaching over, you did as he asked, shaking your head gently. “I’m dreaming. Aren’t I. That has to be it.”

Something behind the wall let out a louder thud before the sounds stopped altogether. “I’m never believing another word you say ever again. You did nothing but lie to my face about your ship holding up-”

“I just told you how to fix it!”

“Which makes us circle back to you lying about a problemless ship, Djarin!”

“That’s not fair.”

“What isn’t?” You lifted the ship up slowly, seeing his N1 slip out of the hangar beside you.

“You know my last name, and I don’t know yours.”

You scoffed, pressing the controls forward. “I’m your head of security, of course I know your name.”

“And I should know yours.” The guns of his ship sounded over the comm. “Troopers at your six, front entrance, they have heavy fire power. Power up your shields before you exit the hangar. I’ll circle back around and pick them off, you distract them.” The slick whir of his engines filled the silence. “So? What is it?”

You choked out a laugh, pressing the controls all the way forward to punch it out into the open, drawing the fire away from Din, seeing the slight slip of his sleek little ship coming in fast on the horizon. “Not so fast, Mand’alor.”

He groaned, blaster fire coating the sound both over the comm and from below as he zoomed underneath you.

An explosion behind you jostled the ship, making you lurch in your seat. Grogu let out a happy squeal, and when you turned to him, he had his arms held up over his head and a smile across his face.

Din chuckled. “Yeah, kid. We got ‘em.”

Something made a loud bang in the main part of the ship below, bouncing across the floor and you groaned. “This ship is a nightmare, Din.” You pressed the steering into a roll as you evaded further fire, stabilizing and dodging TIE Fighters by swinging hard right and left back and forth. The kid let out a little huff at the end of each tilt, making you chuckle, his own laugh coming on at the sound of yours.

“She just needs a gentle touch.”

“Of course it’s a she,” you grumbled halfheartedly, sitting up straight when his ship buzzed right over the viewport, nearly clipping the Razor Crest. It was so close the ship jostled from the wind of his ship. “Kriff! Din! Don’t do that!”

“Don’t do what? Save your ass?”

“Oh, he’s sassy now?” You chuckled again, settling back into your seat as you let out a breath, punching the ship forward again. “It’s only fair. I’ve saved yours, what, five times today alone?”

Din scoffed. “I’d hardly say-”

“Pull up.” He did what you said without question, his ship slipping up into the atmosphere with little effort, the TIEs on his tail lining up in your sights. Pressing the button, you fired the ships guns and all three of the enemy ships exploded. “The guns work. Good to know,” you mumbled, smiling when you heard his gentle scoff in disbelief. “You were saying?”

“I was going to say I’d hardly say it was five times, but now I’m wondering how exactly you got the job as the head of strategy and tactics?”

You pulled a hard left, evading some fire from the ground before swinging back alongside his ship. “Do I detect an insult?”

“I mean, if you want to….”

You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic tone. Pulling up abruptly, the ship going perpendicular with the surface of the planet, you engaged the reverse thrusters before letting the ship freefall. Your monitor began to beep incessantly of incoming ships all around. Once you felt like enough had gotten pulled in, you kicked the forward thrusters back on, the ship suspended in the air for a few seconds before it began to move in the correct direction.

The TIEs still going full throttle continued on their collision courses, colliding with one another, the fireball expanding behind the Crest with each impact, the waves sending the ship higher and higher with minimal effort.

Setting the ship back on a horizontal plane, you saw Din fly up alongside you, so you turned to your left to look at him through the transparisteel.

“You were saying?”

He just looked at you, nodding once before he punched the accelerator, climbing up and out of the planet’s atmosphere and into the dark reaches of space.

Following close behind, you had to enter into a spin to dodge some incoming fire as he peeled off to the right, circling back around. Everywhere you looked were pieces of the Empire, Star Destroyers and TIE Fighters painting the sky in passing streaks, green bolts from their laser cannons joining the mix in between.

“This is pointless, Din. There are a dozen of them for every one of us. We just need to find our way to the edge and make the jump.” You pressed the controls forward into a dive, skimming along the edge of a Star Destroyer, three following TIEs slamming into its surface when they couldn’t pull up in time.

Din zoomed overhead, cannons blasting as he disappeared behind you. “Can’t say that’s horrible advice,” he echoed your words from earlier about Fennec’s message, and you chuckled.

Pulling up abruptly to cause two TIE Fighters to slam into one another, the other three tracking the Crest mirrored the movement, following your ascent. Trying to duck to the side, they simply did the same, every move an exact match no matter what you did. Finally gaining the upper hand, you pulled the trigger to blast the incoming ships, only for the Crest to sputter and click, nothing coming out of the cannons. You knew better, but pulled the trigger incessantly, getting the same results, the empty click sounding louder each time as the scream of the incoming ships seemed to match it.

“Din, we have a problem.” You swallowed. “The old girl’s shooting blanks.”

“What?” His ship came into view off in the distance, coming in fast.

“Cannons are down. And these assholes are onto me and my evasive maneuvers.” As if to demonstrate, you went into a dive at the last second, the enemy ships simply matching you.

“Leave it to me.” His voice was determined. “Just do what I say. Okay?”

“Do I have a choice?” You joked, pressing the controls forward to rise back to the level his ship was.

He chuckled. “I know it’s hard for you, but I just need you to listen this once.”

“Ready and waiting.” There was silence over the comms for a long stretch, and you did your best to evade the enemy following along behind. “Din?” Your stomach began to sink, and you searched the skies as best you could through the ducks and spins of the ship to see if you could see even a flash of his sleek ship. “Din!”

“Spin!” His voice barked over the comms.

Instantly twisting the controls, you entered a spiral, the kid letting out a shriek of joy at the motion. Your monitors beeped of the incoming ships, their impending collision with the Crest or cannon fire blaring through the cockpit. “I’m gonna be sick….” You mumbled as the ship continued to spin.

“Pull up!”

Immediately jerking the controls up, you pulled the ship into another ascent, the sea of space spinning in front of your eyes as you tried to adjust out of the spin. The proximity alarms slowed down one by one, and finally stopped, only the occasional passing ship setting them off.

“Took care of them,” Din said quietly. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” you mumbled, peeling off to follow him to the edge of the battle. “And Din?” His visor met yours through the viewport. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “Punch in the coordinates. I’ll go first, you come behind me. We should be able to stay in communication the whole way.”

“Got it.” You put the coordinates into your nav. “After you, Mand’alor.”

With the press of a button, Din disappeared in front of you with a lurch as he entered hyperspace, and you followed right behind him, the world streaking past in shades of blue and silver.

The N1 bumped along gently in front of you, the swirl of hyperspace reflecting on its polished surface.

“Thank you,” Din’s voice over the comm startled you.

“You’re welcome,” you offered softly. “For what?”

He laughed. “Helping me and the kid get here safely. You…. You’re good at your job.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

Din groaned, making you chuckle.

“No problem.” Turning to Grogu, you smiled as he blinked heavy eyes at you. “He may be a little menace, but he’s my little menace.”

“Your’s?” Din asked after a moment of hesitation.

“Yeah, I mean, he’s a great kid, you’ve done a good job with him. But that little troublemaking streak? I take full credit for that. I saw it, encouraged it, and now we have this brilliant little creature who’s…. Completely knocked out after a dogfight to escape the planet,” you chuckled over the last few words. “I think we bored him.”

Grogu’s little snores filled the cockpit.

Lowering your voice to something more serious, you looked back forward toward Din’s ship. “I won’t let anything happen to him. Or you. Don’t worry.”

“I know,” Din spoke softly. “I’m not.”

Smiling, you sat back in the pilot’s chair, crossing your arms over your chest. “Well, I think I’m going to take the kids advice and take a nap while we can. You should, too, Din. Who knows when we’ll get another chance.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” he agreed with a gentle groan, his armor creaking against the seat of his small ship as he got comfortable.

“You better not snore,” you all but mumbled, almost asleep already.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a smile.

Xxx

You’re woken up when an alarm goes off softly, the ship dropping out of hyperspace just as you blink open your eyes.

As the fade of stars comes to an end, Tatooine appears abruptly through your viewport.

“You awake?” Din’s soft voice comes over the comms.

Stretching, you yawn before reaching out to silence the alarm. “Yeah.” Glancing over your shoulder, you smile. “Kid’s still asleep. I’ll let him rest.” Turning back to the viewport, you grab the controls, pressing a few necessary buttons and flipping some required switches. “What hangar?”

“Hangar 3-5.”

“Mos Eisley?”

“Ye-”

“Hold on,” you grumbled, something clunking under the console. Reaching out, you kick your foot forward, landing a swift hit with your boot, only for the sound to persist. Moving your foot slightly, two more like it and it stops. You let out a sigh. “Sorry. We’re getting to your mechanic friend just in time it seems. The ship is pitching a fit.” A thud in the wall makes you reach out to slam nearby the sound with a fist without a second glance, Grogu startling awake behind you and drawing your gaze. “Sorry, kid. Didn’t mean to startle you.” You looked out the viewport again. “Mos Eisley?”

Din sighed, but sounded amused. “Yes.”

“Got it,” you nodded once, reaching out to slam the wall again when the thud kicked back up.

Both ships touched down in the hangar with little fanfare, the Razor Crest landing surprisingly easy despite all the grievances on the way in.

Pressing the button on the console, the ramp began to lower, and you gestured the cradle in front of you out of the cockpit, then the ship. Grogu looked around with wide eyes, a smile on his face as he knew what, or rather who, was coming.

Din met you at the bottom of the ramp, reaching out toward the kid with his index finger, Grogu taking hold of the tip in his little three clawed hand, letting out a soft coo as he looked up at his father. “Hey, kid.”

“I believe this belongs to you,” you said softly, unclipping the Darksaber and pressing it gently into his hand.

Closing his grip around the hilt, he gave you a nod in thanks before he attached it back at his own hip.

“Well, look who it is!” A loud, bright voice sounded off to the side, obviously extremely happy as it came closer.

Looking up, hand resting on your blaster out of instinct, you saw a woman, on the shorter side, hair curly and wild, and eyes that positively shined with mischief.

“Peli,” Din greeted, approaching her calmly. “You got my message?”

“I did,” she confirmed, nodding. “No problem. We’ll store your N1 here, and see what we can do about the hunk of junk Boba got ya.” Turning to you, she looked you up and down before smiling tightly. “Who’s this?”

Din turned to look at you, gesturing you forward as he spoke. “This is Ti. She’s my head of strategy and tactics, and currently my head of security as well. We were in a meeting when everything happened, and she’s the reason we were able to get out.”

Reaching out to shake her extended hand, you tilted your head. “Well, actually the kid is the reason we got out. I never would have found those tunnels if he hadn’t hid there when we played hide and seek last week.” She smiled at that. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you.” She peered around you at the cradle, dropping your hand. “If the kid likes you, that’s good enough for me.” She winked at you before turning fully to the kid. “And lastly, my little womp rat!” She extended her arms toward the child with a broad grin, laughing when he squealed and reached for her. Scooping him up into her arms, she fussed over him a little before turning back to the two of you, putting him back in the cradle with a grin.

Turning to the Razor Crest, she surveyed it with hands on her hips. “You got her here without any damage! You must have had no problems leaving Mandalore!” She flicked her eyes between the two of you as you all exchanged loaded looks. “Or….”

“We took out at least ten, fifteen…. Probably more TIE Fighters on our way out.”

Peli looked at you with wide eyes.

“Wait, how would you know? She’s a pile of-”

“I took inventory before I let this baby out of my sight.” Reaching up, Peli lightly smacked the side of the Crest, wincing when something fell off with a clang. “I’ll fix that….” Her face screwed up in question. “Now, how in the world did you two get outta there without a scratch on this one, and then our precious N1 over here looks like it’s been through the wars?”

“That’s purely down to pilots.”

Din looked at you with a grunt at the slight.

“Ah, I see,” Peli’s eyes narrowed in amusement. She pointed at you, then at Din before she brought her finger back to aim at you. “Train him. Help him.”

“I’m right here,” Din began to protest.

“Ah, pfffft, now, now Mando, stay out of this. I just want what’s best for our little beauty over there.” She gestured over her shoulder with her thumb toward the N1.

“Stay out of it? You’re talking about….” He let out a heavy sigh. “Never mind.” Turning, he made his way up the ramp of the Razor Crest, banging sounds of some repair beginning shortly after.

You shook your head gently, chuckling as you kept your gaze on Peli, her eyes studying the large ship over your shoulder. She grimaced as Din let out a loud “Ow!” from inside the ship, the sound of a tool dropping to the metal floor ringing throughout the hangar. He growled before the banging resumed, this time faster and more emphatic.

“Best we leave him to it,” Peli offered lightly, making you smile. “I’m going to work on the other ship for now, get it cleaned up and ready to go if he needs it. I’ll get my droid team to work on the Crest in the meantime.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

She looked a little surprised at your question, but quickly recovered, a soft smile twisting up her cheek. “You know anything about wiring?”

“I know enough.” You gestured to the Crest with your head. “But I assume anything would be better than whatever state that ship is in now?”

She laughed. “You’re not wrong.” Grabbing a bundle of wire from one of her pit droids walking past, she handed it to you. “There’s a panel in the main area, probably right by where he’s working, that connects the controls to something like his vambrace. He had his last one all hooked up, I’m assuming he wants this one connected, too.” She mirrored your earlier gesture and nodded toward the ship with her head. “Keep an eye on him.”

You nodded.

“Don’t let him break my ship.”

“Your ship?” You tilted your head in amusement.

“Hey, as long as it’s in my hangar, I’m claiming it. Unless the New Republic shows up asking for paperwork or something, in which case, then it’s all his.” Turning toward the N1, she called out for one of the droids, “R5!” talking to it animatedly when it rolled up and started beeping at her.

As you made your way up into the ship, you noticed the banging had stopped. You found Din hanging a makeshift hammock bed in the bunk for the kid, Grogu looking on contentedly from his floating cradle to the side.

He didn’t turn to you as he began to speak. “There’s only room for one, but I’m sure we can modify it into a double bunk with no problem. Won’t be much headroom, but if we put it up high, the hammock can be between the two, and we’d all have somewhere a little more comfortable than the cockpit.” Finally looking at you over his shoulder, he went on. “I don’t know how long we’ll be on the run like this, but as long as we’re fixing stuff and we’re here at Peli’s, it only makes sense.”

You nodded, making your way to the panel Peli had told you about. “Sounds fine. It’s your ship. But I appreciate the effort to make sure we’re all comfortable.”

“You didn’t ask for this,” Din sighed. “I could have taken the kid in my N1 and left just the two of us. I’m…. I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”

Turning to him, you shook your head. “I’m not anywhere I don’t want to be. You should know that by now.” You tilted your head at him teasingly. “I’m very stubborn. Protecting you and the child is an honor.”

He was silent for a long moment before offering a single nod. “It’s an honor to have you with us.”

You looked down to the bundle of wires in your hand. “As far as anything concerning the ship, again, it’s your ship. Do what you think is best. I trust you.”

Somehow in the middle of the conversation, you’d both drifted toward one another, a mere handful of inches left between you before you even realized. Looking up into his visor, you saw your own reflected in his beskar, and for some reason, it caught you off guard.

Turning toward the panel, you put the distance back between you. “Peli wants me to program the control to your vambrace-”

“Program it to yours, too.”

You looked at him across your shoulder. “Are you sure?”

“I trust you.” When neither of you spoke further, he continued on. “It only makes sense, if you’re basically a bodyguard, you need access to the ship and all its features, including things like ground protocol in case things get tricky.”

The kid let out a coo, and you noticed he was now in his hammock, peeking at you over the edge.

Turning to the panel, you got to work, the fact that Din was never far not going unnoticed.

A few minutes later, you connected the last few wires. “Okay, if I got this right, you’re going to need to come over here and get your vambrace in proximity so it can sync.”

In just a few steps he was standing directly behind you, just enough space left between that if you took a deep enough breath your back would be against his chest. Reaching out, he braced his hand on the wall to your right, beside the panel, effectively caging you in on one side.

Lifting your own hand, you pressed your palm against the cool metal of the wall directly beside his, and pressed the button on the panel. A few beeps sounded between the panel and both vambraces, a sequence of lights flashing before everything went quiet again.

“It should work now.” Your voice was uncharacteristically quiet even to your own ears.

Not moving away at all, if anything leaning in closer, Din reached over and pressed a button on your vambrace, eliciting a beep before the ramp began to close. Pressing it again, the ramp lowered back to the ground. He lingered in your space for just a minute longer before he turned and headed down the ramp, out of the ship.

As soon as he was back in the hangar, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your gloved fingers flexing wide where your hand still rested on the wall.

Closing up the panel, you made your way back to the main area of the hangar where Din and Peli stood close, in the middle of a conversation.

“You went all the way to Boba’s to fix the ship.” Din’s voice was soft, and he reached out a hand to rest on Peli’s shoulder. “You told me you never left the city walls.”

She looked at the part in her hand, fiddling with it needlessly, a tight smile pulling up her face. “Yeah, well….” She looked up at him, letting her hand still holding the part fall to the table with a soft thump. “What are friends for?” They shared a silent exchange before she abruptly brought her hands up in a gesture, Din’s hand falling to his side with the motion, and she looked to the side absently as she continued, her face twisted mischievously. “Besides. Who’s gonna mess with me with those guys escorting me, not to mention the pay was phenomenal.” She grinned up at him, winking. “Plus, I got the added bonus of you finally shutting up about your precious Razor Crest….” She scoffed, shaking her head gently.

“Plus, I had it on good authority from a close friend- that’d be you, Mando- that the Pike situation had been taken care of, so I figured….” She shrugged. “Why not.” Her hands rested on her hips as she looked between the two of you.

“The, uh, the vambraces are done,” you offered. “Anything else I can help with?”

“Wait, vambraces as in plural?” Peli’s hand raised to pause the conversation went back to her hip as her head tilted in question at you.

“Yes, Mando thought it best I also have the controls, should things get…. Complicated.” You shifted your weight slightly. “Why, is that a problem to have more than one?”

“No!” Her eyes went wide. “No,” she smiled kindly. “It’s just…. Not what I was expecting is all.” The conversation lulled for a minute before she cleared her throat, turning to the nearby table and grabbed another bundle of wires. “Feel like doing some more wiring?”

“If that’s what will help, gladly.”

“She’s a good one, Mando. Hang on to her. Very helpful.”

Din looked at you with the slightest tilt of his head. “I plan to.”

Xxx

Din worked alone on the Crest later on in the day. Peli had pulled you deep into a conversation on the far side of the hangar, the both of you laughing occasionally drifting over to him.

Grogu cooed from his spot in his cradle beside him, drawing Din’s attention away for a moment. “What?”

The small BD unit that seemed to have taken a shine to Din for some reason beeped from its perch on the ramp of the Crest, just above Din’s head, making the Mandalorian turn his head up to look at it with a sigh. “You, too?”

Looking between the child and the droid, he let out a soft groan. “Look, I don’t know what a fifty-something year old baby and an overzealous BD droid are trying to tell me, but I have a feeling it’s going to get me in trouble.”

Grogu let out a happy gurgle, the droid looking between Din and the child, bouncing happily as it let out a series of blurts and beeps one could only construe as joy.

Chuckling softly, Din shook his head as he went back to work on the panel on the outside hull of the Crest. “That’s what I thought.” He looked back at Grogu with a playful tilt of his head. “Troublemaker.”

“Mando!”

Turning, Din looked across Peli’s hangar to find you approaching him with easy, confident steps. Something witty sat just on the tip of his tongue, a quip that was sure to finally get the better of you, but it died there as he watched you reach up and remove your helmet, tucking it under one arm as you took the last few steps to stand in front of him.

He expected a smirk, something mischievous to be sparkling in your eyes as an eyebrow cocked up at him in something sarcastic. And he was partly right, he mused, as he studied how your eyes did in fact sparkle with something not entirely innocent, your eyebrow playing its part as it raised in question.

But your smile…. You didn’t smirk at him like he expected. Instead he saw a somewhat shy grin stretching its way up your features, growing by the minute. And it was contagious.

“What?” You teased, running a hand through your hair. “Do I have helmet hair or something?” There was the smirk. “We can’t all look fresh as a flower under here, you know.”

Din cleared his throat. “Did you need something?”

The grin faded slowly from your face, your features schooling themselves into something more professional, and Din instantly wanted to kick himself.

You pointed over your shoulder, looking down at the ground by his feet before looking back up to hold the gaze of his visor. “Peli wants to ask you something. I mean, she could have asked me, but it’s not my ship, so….” Lowering your hand, you let it rest on top of your helmet, drumming your fingers along its surface.

A lopsided grin began to climb your face yet again, making Din tilt his head just slightly in question. “You know…. It’s much cooler with that thing off.” You leaned in, going up on your tiptoes so you were as close as face to face as you could get, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. “I won’t tell anyone.” Winking at him before you lowered back onto the soles of your feet, you laughed softly. “But I understand if you don’t want to. We can’t all look like this under there, after all.” You made a sweeping gesture to your face. “I won’t hold it against you.”

Din stepped around you with a gentle shake of his head, slowing to a stop when your voice sounded at his back.

“Jyrr.”

He turned just enough to look at you easily, his body facing to the side, his head turned to look across his shoulder. “What?”

“My last name. Ti Jyrr.” A tight smile pulled across your features as you made your way around him and back toward Peli. “Now you know.”

BD and the child both let out soft sounds as they looked between your retreating figure and Din, sharing a look themselves.

Din watched as you walked away, and it felt like a piece of him was somehow going with you. He’d put all of his energy into disliking you, or so he thought, that the fleeting idea of any part of him belonging to you caught him off guard.

You were everything he stood against, but at the same time, everything he needed at his side. You were rash, reckless, you dove head first into things without thinking. But you were also smart, efficient, kind, and you didn’t let anyone, including him, give you any shit.

You embodied mandokar. The epitome of the Manalorian way of life - equal parts aggression, tenacity, loyalty and shereshoy - a lust for life. And while it irked him to admit that you did, he was also extremely proud to have you at his side, with him, and see it each day. You made a formidable opponent, and he was just glad you were on his side. He was able to rest easier knowing the kid would be safe even if he couldn’t keep an eye on him at all times.

And it didn’t hurt that you were easy on the eyes.

He looked down at the ground for a long moment, trying desperately to fight the grin climbing his face at the thought. It was the only one currently occupying his mind, the rest of his thoughts utterly blank.

“You coming?” You called across the hangar, breaking him from his empty loop.

The BD droid ran down the ramp, darting across the hangar and skidded to a stop at your feet, looking up at you as it wiggled excitedly. You laughed, sitting on your haunches and patted it on the head as it trilled at you.

Grogu let out an unintelligible babble as he looked up at Din, his cradle coming alongside the Mandalorian, his head tilting just slightly in a way Din knew the child had learned from him.

Shaking his head gently, he began moving toward you and Peli. Sure, he’d started to like your personality, but the fact that you were also attractive was just insulting. And given he was a stubborn man, he was prepared to be insulted over and over…. Glancing up, he caught your gaze as you smirked his way, your helmet on a table beside you, and he nearly scoffed. How rude.

Xxx

Tags: @lam-ila, @oliviajdjarin, @peonyophelia, @what-the-heckin-heck, @Itsavicf, @just-shut-up-kid, @noodlesavailable, @mildlyhopeless, @multifandomsw, @professionalfangrrl, @tizylish, @whoodatt, @heyitsaloy, @djarinsimp, @athenasproverbs, @aliens-apricot, @snow30285, @jallen0126, @jxvipike What’s This?

234 notes · View notes