#Power Button Replacement Service

[itsappleexpert]

Quick iPad Screen Repair Service: Restore Your Device Today

The iPad has become an essential tool for millions of people worldwide. From students and professionals to casual users, the iPad offers convenience, versatility, and performance in one sleek package. However, like any device, accidents happen, and one of the most common issues that iPad owners face is a cracked or broken screen. A damaged screen can render your device unusable, making it essential to seek quick, efficient, and reliable iPad screen repair services. If you find yourself in need of a screen replacement, a quick iPad screen repair service can restore your device today, allowing you to continue using your iPad without delay.

Why Timely iPad Screen Repair Matters

When your iPad screen cracks or shatters, it’s not just an aesthetic issue��it can impact the functionality of the device. A cracked screen can make it difficult to see content clearly, interact with apps, or use the touchscreen effectively. Worse, if the crack worsens over time, it may lead to additional damage to the internal components of the iPad. Addressing the issue quickly by opting for a screen repair can prevent further damage and ensure your iPad remains in working condition.

Moreover, a broken screen can make your iPad vulnerable to dust, dirt, and moisture entering the device. This could lead to more serious problems, such as malfunctions or hardware damage. Repairing the screen as soon as possible will not only restore the aesthetic appeal of your device but also protect it from future complications.

Benefits of Quick iPad Screen Repair Services

Fast Turnaround Time One of the primary benefits of choosing a quick iPad screen repair service is the rapid turnaround. Many repair centers offer same-day or next-day repairs, allowing you to get your device back quickly. Whether your screen is cracked, shattered, or has display issues, professional technicians can replace the screen swiftly, minimizing the amount of time you’re without your iPad. This is particularly important for users who rely on their iPads for work, school, or communication.

High-Quality Replacement Parts When you opt for a professional iPad screen repair service, you can rest assured that the parts used for the repair are of the highest quality. Reputable repair centers use OEM (Original Equipment Manufacturer) or equivalent parts, ensuring that your new screen will function just as well as the original one. Using inferior or third-party parts may result in poor touch sensitivity, color distortion, or other issues, so it’s essential to choose a service that prioritizes quality.

Experienced Technicians Expert technicians with experience in iPad screen repairs can accurately diagnose the problem and provide a fast, effective solution. Whether you own the latest iPad Pro or an older iPad Mini, professionals are trained to handle the specific needs of each model. Their experience ensures that the repair is done correctly, reducing the risk of future issues and restoring your device to its original functionality.

Affordable Pricing Getting a screen repaired is often more affordable than replacing the entire device. Opting for a quick iPad screen repair service allows you to save money while restoring your iPad. Most repair services offer competitive pricing, and you may also have the option of choosing different repair packages based on the extent of the damage. Repairing the screen can be a cost-effective solution compared to buying a brand-new iPad, especially if the device still works well aside from the damaged screen.

Convenient Services In addition to fast repairs, many iPad screen repair services offer convenience through various options such as on-site repairs, mail-in repairs, or home and office pick-up services. These added conveniences ensure that you don’t have to waste time traveling to a repair shop or waiting in long lines. Some services even offer walk-in options, so you can get your iPad repaired on the spot without needing to schedule an appointment.

Warranty and Guarantee Most professional iPad screen repair services offer warranties on the repairs they perform. This means that if any issues arise with the new screen, you can get it fixed free of charge. A warranty provides peace of mind, knowing that your iPad is covered should any problems occur after the repair. It also indicates that the repair center stands behind the quality of their work and the parts they use.

Common iPad Screen Issues That Need Repair

Cracked or Shattered Screens: A cracked or shattered screen is the most obvious sign that your iPad needs repair. Even minor cracks can interfere with the device’s usability, while more extensive damage may cause display issues or make the screen entirely unresponsive.

Unresponsive Touchscreen: If the touchscreen is not responding to taps or gestures, it could be a sign of screen damage or a malfunction within the digitizer. A professional technician can diagnose the problem and replace the screen if necessary.

Display Issues: Sometimes, the screen might not be physically cracked but still exhibit problems like flickering, discoloration, or lines across the display. These issues are often related to internal damage, which can be resolved with a screen replacement.

Dead Pixels or Black Spots: Over time, iPad screens can develop dead pixels or black spots, which can be distracting when using the device. A screen replacement can resolve these visual issues, restoring the display to its original quality.

How to Choose the Right iPad Screen Repair Service

Choosing the right iPad screen repair service is crucial to ensure quality repairs and a quick turnaround. Here are some factors to consider:

Reputation: Look for repair services with positive reviews and a strong reputation for quality work. Recommendations from friends, family, or online reviews can guide your decision.

Expertise: Choose a service that specializes in iPad repairs. Technicians with expertise in handling iPads will have the necessary knowledge and tools to provide the best results.

Turnaround Time: Check if the repair service offers fast turnaround times. Same-day or next-day services are ideal for those who need their iPads quickly.

Warranty: A reputable repair service will offer a warranty on their repairs. This ensures that you can get any issues resolved at no additional cost if something goes wrong.

A cracked or damaged screen doesn’t have to mean the end of your iPad’s functionality. With a quick iPad screen repair service, you can restore your device today and get back to using it as usual. Whether you need a fast turnaround, high-quality replacement parts, or the expertise of experienced technicians, a professional repair service can address your screen issues efficiently and affordably. Don’t let a cracked screen disrupt your daily life—opt for a quick repair and restore your iPad to its full potential.

[foone]

A world of friends

In the late 2030s, a research lab discovers how to travel to alternate earths. And what's even better, they've figured out how to best monetize it too: tourism.

See it turns out there's not a lot of variation. There's a nearly infinite number of earths, but it's not like you're traveling to an alien planet or Narnia. They're all pretty... Earthy.

And they turn that into a positive: all earths are similar, but the small differences are what counts. And they're always searching for worlds with interesting divergences from our own, as potential destinations.

Spend a weekend with Netflix on the world where Walter Disney became a little-known architect, and the face of children's media is completely different. Visit the world where the US Revolution failed, and most of the Americas remains part of the commonwealth.

Safari through the world where humans died out or never evolved, see the megafauna we weren't around to extinct.

The world where the planet's population is 97% Christian but they're also nudists because they associate nudity with the innocence of the Garden of Eden.

And if you're looking for a challenge, visit the world's where climate change has already melted the ice caps, the world's where the cold war went hot, the world where the first world war is also the last one, and it's still ongoing.

There's just one minor problem with their plan of setting up an industry to portal people to other worlds:

Someone else is already using it.

Their interdimensional tech relies on creating wormholes using a complex arrangement of superconducting magnets and there's a characteristic burst of neutrinos when the event horizon forms.

They have to monitor them to properly "aim" the wormhole, but their early work is thrown off by seeing spurious emissions coming from outside their facility, which they later realize are exactly matching their technology.

They're just seeing the wormholes from the other end.

They partner with a government agency, explaining their discovery, and express worry that the country (and the world!) may be getting infiltrated by an off world power.

They build sensors in major cities, and triangulate where the off-worlders are appearing, and follow them.

They seem harmless enough. Often skittish, taking lots of pictures, asking odd questions... These aren't security agents or an invading force.

They're just tourists. They're from another world's interdimensional tourism business. One that set up before ours.

But why are they here? What's so odd about our world among the trillions they have access to that makes them come here with cameras fully loaded with film and memory cards?

The security agents pour over surveillance tapes of them wandering around random cities, and finally spot (no pun intended) why they're here.

It's dogs.

The tourists are skittish around seeing people walking their dogs, they're taking pictures of corgis and greyhounds, they're visiting petstores and ignoring the cats and iguanas and tropical fish to go look at the most boring mutts, eyes full of wonder and fear and excitement...

One of the tourists is picked up by the security services, but hits their panic button and vanishes before they can be questioned. They leave behind a Daguerre Inc 2090 DSLR camera full of slightly blurry photos of dogs, and a pamphlet that fell out of their bag in the scuffle

The pamphlet is for this interdimensional vacation, and describes the weirdness of our world: The strange universe where humans somehow befriended wild wolves and let them into their homes and lives.

The pamphlet plays up the scariness of canines, showing Tibetan mastiffs and angry pitbulls biting into meat. Police dogs with titanium teeth replacements. There's very few pictures of chihuahuas and corgis and poodles.

So the next time you're at an animal rescue or a petting zoo, and you see someone looking on in fear and wonder at the amazing sight of a golden retriever puppy, their camera shutter clicking away...

Maybe ask them who the president is. And what year we landed on the moon.

And don't be too surprised if they answer "You mean the Prime Minister? It's still Thiers, right? I haven't been reading the papers much recently. And 1956, unless you're one of those pedantics who say it only counts if it was successful, in which case 1958"

(reposted from a twitter thread from 2022)

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1968 AMC AMX

408-Powered 1968 AMC AMX 4-Speed

1968 AMC AMX

This 1968 AMC AMX was modified under previous ownership during a refurbishment that is said to have been conducted over the course of 10 years and was completed in 2013. Refinished in black over red vinyl upholstery, the car is powered by a 408ci V8 paired with a four-speed manual transmission. Refurbishment work reportedly involved resurfacing the cylinder heads as well as installing an Edelbrock intake manifold, a performance camshaft, Hooker long-tube exhaust headers, billet pulleys, an aluminum radiator, cross-drilled front brake rotors, and lowering springs. Additional equipment includes 15″ Vision wheels, aftermarket headlights, chrome bumpers, a Hurst shifter, tilt steering, and a push-button AM radio. The seller acquired the vehicle in 2015. This modified AMX is now offered with a service manual, books, a model kit, unused Go Package–style stripe decals, spare and removed parts, and a Nevada title in the seller’s name.

1968 AMC AMX

The car was refinished in black as part of the aforementioned refurbishment. Additional work is said to have included repainting the wheel wells and the floors along with replacing the bumpers, door handles, grille, mirrors, headlights, weatherstripping, and bright trim on the window and headlight surrounds. The “AMX” badging on the exterior features red letter Xs.

1968 AMC AMX

Aftermarket 15″ Vision wheels are mounted with 215/60 front and 265/50 rear Cooper Cobra Radial G/T tires. A space-saver spare is located in the trunk. The car is equipped with lowering springs, and braking is provided by cross-drilled front discs and rear drums.

1968 AMC AMX

The split front bench seat is trimmed in red vinyl upholstery complemented by a color-coordinated dashboard, door panels, and carpeting. Other features include crank windows, a fold-down armrest, a Hurst shifter, tilt steering, and an American Motors–branded push-button AM radio. The headliner, carpets, and sill plates were replaced under previous ownership.

1968 AMC AMX

The three-spoke steering wheel fronts a 120-mph speedometer, a tachometer, and a combination gauge for fuel level and coolant temperature. An AutoMeter tachometer is mounted to the steering column, and a trio of smaller AutoMeter gauges affixed beneath the dashboard monitors oil temperature, coolant temperature, and oil pressure. The five-digit odometer shows 13k miles, less than 500 of which have been added by the seller; true mileage is unknown. The seller notes that the clock and the factory tachometer do not work.

1968 AMC AMX

The engine is said to be an AMC 390ci V8 that was bored and stroked to displace 408ci. Additional work during the refurbishment included resurfacing the cylinder heads as well as installing forged engine internals, an Edelbrock intake manifold, a performance camshaft, ceramic-coated Hooker long-tube exhaust headers, billet pulleys, an aluminum radiator with electric fans, and an aftermarket exhaust system. An oil change and coolant flush were performed in preparation for the sale. The car’s chassis number indicates that it was originally equipped with a 360ci V8 topped by a two-barrel carburetor.

1968 AMC AMX

Power is sent to the rear wheels through a four-speed manual transmission and a Twin-Grip rear axle with 3.55:1 gearing. An Ace Racing Powerforce clutch was fitted during the refurbishment.

1968 AMC AMX

A 1968 AMC service manual, books and magazines, an AMT model kit, unused Go Package–style red stripe decals, and spare and removed parts will accompany the vehicle.

The Nevada title notes the odometer brand “Exempt.”

[smellystars]

The Exterminator

You recently found a few roaches in your home which was only the start. Mice and other bugs started popping up so you searched for a cheap embittered effective exterminator online. You landed on bomb-exterminations. The reviews were weird though, “it worked but my house stank for a week” “some of my stuff broke 2 stars!” Well it was cheap, and I’ll probably have to replace some items but at least it works, with the click of a button and the punch of your card they’d arrive tomorrow. *knock knock knock* you open the door to find the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. “Hello Sir, bomb-exterminations here!” A tall buff man in a blue polo that was stretched to its limits stood in the door. “Oh yes thank you come in” you step to the side as he walks past, your gaze fixed on his big ass stretching his jeans to the limit. You regain your composure long enough to ask him how if he was gonna start in the basement and work his way up or some other way. All the man says is don’t worry just leave the house for a bit since the gas he’s gonna use is really potent so it’s best to not be here during it and by the end your house will be critter free. He walked up the stairs and out of view. Though a little creepy you decided to follow behind him quietly so he wouldn’t notice your presence, watching him from around the corner. “He said gas, where is his tank and mask?” You thought to yourself until he pulled down his pants unveiling his bare ass cheeks BBRRPPPBBTTTTTTTTT The large man ripped a fat one, green gas spilling out from his huge ass. The gas quickly making its way down the hall BBRPBBTTTTTT into every room PPRRRTTTTTT and every floor BBRRTTTTTTT. You couldn’t help but be turns on, the sheer power of his ass had you hooked. You saw mice and bugs falling over from the smell it was impressive and quite scary. You accidentally took a full inhale, his gas toxic you tried to hold in your coughs but the smell was too much. You coughed and gagged much like the critters you were trying to get rid of. He noticed you as you fell over onto the floor his gas too strong. You awoke outside on your lawn the fresh air feeling like the first sip of water after traveling the dessert. You look to your left to see the man standing over you making sure you’re okay. “I did warn you sir. I would apologize but by the look of your friend there I can tell you enjoyed it.” I massive bulge was in your pants but as you hunched over, hands covering your face red. PPPRRBBBTTT “Whew even out there they tend to linger for a while.” The man said while waving his arm behind his ass. “Im Mateo by the way.” He hands you a piece of paper with a number on it. “I’ll leave you this so you can always reach me personally for my services.” He winks at you and rips another tiny but still potent fart that leaves you dazed.

[kaidacr1sis]

Iced Americano-Yang Jae-Won x Reader

― Fem! Reader | Fluff | Barista! Reader | 1.1k words | possible part 2 | Enjoy!

The smell of coffee and vanilla filled your senses before you even got into the building. The cold metal of your keys jingling as you unlocked the café doors. The earthy scent of coffee grounds flooding your nose as the door pulled open.

You flicked on the lights with practices precision as you opened the café mentally taking inventory of foods before you even got to the counter. Stopping by the espresso machine, you pressed the power button and listened to it groan to life. The grinders and drip brewers next.

The till drawer opened with a snap. You counted bills, coins, punched in the total, and nodded slightly to yourself—everything balanced. You laid out fresh towels, placed the tamper by the grinder, stacked clean shot glasses.

When the machine hissed to let you know it was ready, you pulled a test shot—rich, dark, syrupy. Perfect.

The oven beeped; croissants were ready to be arranged in the display case. You used tongs to line them up just right, adjusting angles until the case looked inviting. A few bagels followed, still warm. Gently taking out some cold pastries setting them on the bottom. Taking a custard croissant for yourself and setting it aside.

Sliding in your earbuds, the sound of the song ‘Still with you’ filled your hearing quickly replaced the silence as you flipped the sign indicating you were now open, you had hoped it would be a slow morning today since you'd be the only one here for the next few hours. Your manager couldn't make it due to a 'family emergency', and you believed him, well, you believed him the first four times he used that excuse this month.

You'd like it better if he told you straight up that he'd like to sleep in some more, you'd have no problem doing a job that's meant for two people. With school starting up again most of your coworkers had quit, now devoting their time to academics, which you didn't mind. You don’t blame them either. School was hard, and honestly, this job was just to get a few extra bucks.

You grabbed the broom that was sitting behind the counter, wanting to do one last sweep before the regulars came in for their usual morning coffee and pastry, and it's not like you had anything better to do having already made fresh pastries two hours before opening. The espresso machine was ready and the oven was preheating.

You began humming to the lyrics, lost in your own world as you swept up small crumbs. Missing the ringing of the bells on the door as someone walked in.

“Excuse me?” A hoarse voice spoke, usually you would be immediately setting everything to the side and smiling to help the customer. But.. usually you would hear the customer and… if you were being honest, usually no one came in this early.

Yang Jae-Won almost immediately recognized the song you were humming. A small smile playing at the edge of his lips. Though it confused him why you kept sweeping.

Sure.. this isn’t where he usually got his morning coffee. But.. customer service should be this bad should it? However it was the only place open at 5 in the morning and Jang-Mi and Gyeong-Won spoke highly about the coffee shop. Remembering how Jang-Mi brought in pastries from this coffee shop and praised how well it was baked.

He cleared his throat preparing to speak out louder this time, but you quickly spun around and took out both your airpods, a shocked look prevalent on your features as you hastily spat out apologies while bowing profusely.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I didn’t hear you come in! I swear this isn’t how it usually is here! I’m so so so so sorry!” You gasp, bowing deeply before fixing your hair and setting everything side.

“Is that.. Jung Kook’s.. Still with you?” He smiled, pulling you from your apologetic state. “That’s one of my favorite songs of his..” He added, rubbing the back of his neck with a smile and adjusting his glasses.

“Y-yeah! Again, I’m sorry. I just lost track of time and thought I'd have a bit more time to finish sweeping and I swear I wasn't igno-" you pause, stopping your rambling. “I’m ranting. Anyway, what can I get you?” You chuckle. Pulling up and menu for him and sliding it over.

You watched as he looked down at the menu. Only then did you realize how tall he was. Handsome too. The scrubs and white coat made it obvious he was a doctor of some sort. Maybe he knew Cheon Jang-Mi and Park Gyeong-Won.. whatever.

“Could I get.. a Grande, Iced Americano? 1 shot of blonde espresso, 2 pumps of brown sugar, and almond milk. If you can.. not a lot of ice.” He ordered, handing the menu back as your fingers tapped the screen. Reaching for his wallet you quickly stop him.

“It’s okay! Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house. It’s my fault for not paying attention when someone came in.” You smile before grabbing his cup and a pen. “Name?” You questioned.

“Yang Jae-Won. Thank you.” He nodded, a smile growing on his lips. “You sure?” He didn't mind that you weren't paying attention, but a free coffee is a free coffee.

"Yang Jae-Won.." You repeated, testing the way it rolled off your tongue, and he relished in the way you said his name, how innocently you pronounced it. He couldn't help the way his eyes drifted lower and lower. “Alright your order will be ready shortly!” You beamed.

He nodded and waited next to the end of the counter. Watching, as you made his drink. Admiring the way your hair swayed and your smile never seemed to fade. ‘Pretty girl..’ he though.

Placing the to-go cup on the table, you slide a custard croissant into a bag with the drink. “Your order is ready!” You smile, sliding both the drink and bag over.

He returned your smile and placed his large hands around the cup, brushing against your smaller fingers which sent a shiver down your spine, something that didn't go unnoticed by him. “I think I’ll be seeing you..” he whispered before leaving the café with a nod.

You watched as he turned towards the door, the bell chiming as he took his leave. The silence of the coffee shop settled in and you had already missed his presence. ‘He was.. drop dead gorgeous..’ you swooned.

Jae-Won made it halfway to the HNUH when he stopped. Fuck.. he didn’t even get your name. He didn’t even think to ask. It’s fine.. he’s sure to be going back. Mentally hoping that Dr. Baek wasn’t already waiting for him in the Trauma Center.

[lazlolullaby]

"Nurse" Terry AU

i mean a reboot of Terry Mcginnis being a home medical assistant for elder care.

Not the grimdark cop out twist, "lol Bruce was Crazy the whole time, the doctors were his rogues gallery" but. Mundane elder care for the man who fought too hard for this city to even consider he would live to old age. + Bonus medical support for the future Batfamily.

TL:Dr Terry as Alfred's successor. Caring of people that have made/continually make dangerous choices, dry wit, checkered past, willing to kill, etc. He just needs time to grow into it.

More details under the cut, accidentally evolved into a not fic:

Bruce already has a partial caretaker in Alfred, and he's not going to live forever, despite all of the fandom jokes otherwise.

I'm thinking Bruce is 70, so Dick and Barbara would be 50s, Jason and Cass 45, Tim, Duke, and Stephanie 40s, and Damian is 35. Titus was replaced with a few other service dogs before Ace.

Maybe it's like Batman Beyond where Bruce drove everyone away. Maybe the Golden Age of Heroes wound down, with his contemporaries either dying or leaving him alone to stand vigil.

Maybe it's not. When his kids are grown with their lives and vigilantes or not, they can't be there 24/7 for Bruce.

I prefer the Batfamily is around, just that they have their own lives. Someone is always in the Manor in the mornings, but when Vigilante things happen, someone has to be home to make sure Bruce doesn't go out as well.

Bruce, thanks to his vigilante history, has heart issues, bone and joint issues, canon Childhood PTSD compounding with complex Vigilante PTSD, and bad reactions to drugs and medications thanks to all of the Chemical Attacks.

Bruce is still good at his ADLs (Activities of Daily Life). Things like walking without assistance, eating, showering, putting on clothes, and going to the bathroom.

He's gotten denture implants and is doing physical therapy enough to walk with a cane. He can't open jars, but he can still zip and button.

He's retired but still runs the Cave. He's mostly fine, but sometimes the Bats see him struggle. Someone finds him at the bottom of the stairs, unable to get up and refusing to say when he fell. Dick puts his foot down when Bruce has a heart attack.

The batfamily makes up a rotation sheet, but it's not enough. Vigilante first aid is different from elderly medical aid. Not to mention the mental and emotional toll that it's taking, seeing their parent/leader disabled and crabby as hell.

(also. Untrained family members who care for Alzheimer's patients by themselves have a severe risk of cutting their life short due to stress. Use the insurance. Get help.)

So they get Bruce a fully trained nurse assistant to check in every other day for the midmorning and a first aid assistant for the night time. And they'll keep rotation at "vigilante time" 9-9. It's flexible, he doesn't need them all of the time.

So about Terry. Despite everything, it's still Gotham. His family was held up at gunpoint after a trip to the movies. The gun does go off.

But it's also a Gotham with several active vigilantes.

The response was quick enough that only Warren was hit, and the gun was knocked on the ground fast enough so Mary was physically fine. They get taken to the hospital. Mary might remember which vigilante. Terry might need to see pictures.

Warren's insurance plan with Wayne-Powers is pretty great, he's off on disability for a few months. And Mary is pregnant, so as she was progressing she can't lift or help with heavy things. Terry tries to help. He's getting well versed in getting snacks, waters, basic house chores done, but he's only 8. There's no grandparents or extended family to call.

So they apply for help. The insurance sends a home medical assistant to come around a few days a week. And Terry sees how much it helps. How much of a burden that it lifts, how everyone in the house can breathe a little easier. That sticks with him.

When the insurance runs out and they still need help, Mary calls the support card that the Vigilantes gave her. They get a second volunteer (maybe a cousin of his highschool group? Chelsea or Dana?) that also helps.

The worst is over, Warren is safely back to work + working from home to help out, Mary is fully recovered, and baby Matt is perfectly healthy.

And Terry is restless. Energy spent worrying about his family and taking care of them is churning in him. He's lost some time with his friends and is feeling isolated.

The cracks become apparent in the parents marriage, it gets tense at home.

The second volunteer comes around sometimes to babysit him and Matt while Mary and Warren are "working their relationship out". They tell him about the community center that sets people up with job training and temp healthcare jobs like this. Activities for the neighborhood kids after school.

Luckily and unluckily, that's where Terry gets recruited into the Red Hood gang.

Jason isn't really using kids for gang things. Well. Keeping them as look outs, making them deliver care packages to the homeless/protected witnesses, maybe ferrying a little naloxone here and there to his addiction rehab centers. They know what they're doing is illegal, but it also helps the community. Terry is pretty content with that most of the time. Most of the time.

And then Charlie had to get it in his head he's going "Big Time", riles Terry up, and make them go off plan.

Terry and Charlie get caught, they get booked in Juvenile hall. They don't say anything, don't reveal about Red Hood's movements. (Not that Jason would tell any kids anything like that.)

Terry got out, his parents officially split, he went with his Dad, his Mom took his younger brother. Now that he doesn’t have Matt, he can’t go back to his gang friends, his parents don’t trust him, people are hesitant to trust him, he’s getting frustrated again.

The Bats are also...more focused on the Gotham villainy side of things, not the company. Dick never got a business degree so he can't really do anything, not that he was interested, Jason is dead + his civilian alias is handling Crime Ally, Tim is burnt out of CEO duties and recovering in R&D, and Damian tried, but he was frustrated in following his father's footsteps, so that was stopped.

Derek Powers is still a thing but not all "glowy". Warren brought up the weapons file + discrepancy to Tim, so Terry's dad is safe (for now).

So Jason sees this kid who wants to help but just needs to be mentored and his act cleaned up. And Bruce, who's a little bit listless and needs a project that won't be too taxing.

So the Batfamily talks and throws them together.

BUT ALSO - fun storylines:

Derek Powers tries to kill Bruce through his medical assistants. He's a manipulator, also trying to get Terry for cheap, but Terry isn't biting. Terry checking the medicine before giving it to Bruce and finding it wasn't the usual. (Bruce knew, but he also wanted to make sure no one was slacking.) IDK if the day nurse/pharmacy tech got turned by Powers but Terry was planned to take the fall.

Bruce subtly training him in stealth tactics and strategy. The rest of the Batfamily getting in on it too.

Terry was able to clock that "Father Peterson", a pillar of the Crime Alley Community, was a civilian alias of Red Hood. (Peterson checked in on him in juvie. His foot stance is similar to Red Hood, the cadence when he's talking with his goons slips, their morals don't directly align but do intersect, people thought they were grudging allies, but if they're the same person it tracks.) Terry does further digging and connects the deceased Jason Todd-Wayne's old photos to Peterson, but realizes, "oh. There's reasons why he doesn't involve his rich family", and decides not to bring it up.

Maybe finding an actual CEO replacement for Wayne-Powers? Stephanie could pull a Cinderella rags to riches story. Or have the Fox family come back? Tam or Luke?

Terry following Bruce down to the Batcave a couple months in. "Sure. A nerd Collection." But not actually believing that it's the Batfamily base until he sees the collection of suits. When the family shows up after patrol he just shrugs, "you told me stick by him."

[againstacecilia]

Because You Left

Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Rating: This one's for anybody, but the whole blog is 18+ for sure.

Warnings: Lovers to strangers, fighting, angst, swearing, both of them are probably idiots but *shrug*

A/N: Holy wow it's been a minute! I've had this one in the vault for a while but just never did anything with it. There's a happy ending as well, so I can post that if there's interest, but I'm pushing myself to not tie everything up so nicely and let the tough emotions sit so you get ✨angst✨. We also don't need to talk about how I'm working through some things about an old flame with this one soooo hush. Unbeta'd, no use of y/n.

It’s an unusually quiet night on base, lamplight flickering through the hallways and muffled laughter sneaking under doors as people take advantage of the stillness. Your footsteps echo loudly, an intrusion in the calm as you hurry to your post, breathless by the time you arrive.

“Sorry I’m late,” you begin, not looking at your watch partner, “I couldn’t find-”

“Not like you to be late, Captain,” a familiar voice interrupts.

Your stomach flops as you meet Poe’s gaze. “I… I’m sorry, Commander.” Your words falter, the memory of your last encounter momentarily clouding your mind…

“Find somewhere else to sleep tonight,” Poe says quietly at the door, not looking at you, “I’m busy.”

“Of course you are. Seems like you’ve been busy a lot these days. Busy with everything but finding time for me.”

Poe doesn’t say anything as he turns his back to you, pressing the button to close the door to his quarters. The click of the door sliding into place echoes deep in your bones as you’re left alone in the hallway…

That was months ago. You’d immediately requested a service change to a new squadron and done everything in your power to avoid seeing him again. Night shifts and dangerous recon runs, anything to make sure your paths never crossed again. 

“No need to apologize, I won’t tell anyone.” Poe winks at you with a grin. “So, it’s been a while, how have you been?”

Shaking the memory from your mind, you begin preparing for your watch. “Fine. You?”

“I’ve been okay.” He watches you gather your things, eyes trained on your every move.

“Mmm,��� you respond non-committedly, shoving a flashlight and spare battery pack for your blaster into your bag before tugging the straps over your shoulders. “Well, I should be off. Being late and all.”

“Actually, we should be off. Your shift buddy called out so I’m his replacement.”

Fantastic. “Commander Dameron on night patrol?”

“Everyone pitches in where they’re needed,” he responds, hoisting his pack. 

Six hours on watch with Poe was the last thing you wanted to do, but he was right. Everyone was expected to, and for the most part did, pitch in where they were needed. If this was how you were expected to help the Resistance then you’d grit your teeth and get through it. 

“Let’s get going then.” You’re out the door and making your way to the watchtower before he can reprimand you for speaking to your superior like that. 

Luckily, the calm seems to be holding and the watchtower is nearly serene in the clear night. Stars twinkle above you in constellations you were still learning and the breeze was a song you never tired of. Lost in the ebb and flow of nature around you, you don’t notice the time pass.

Poe’s voice breaks the silence for the first time in hours. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you nod, keeping your eyes on the wilderness beyond the base.

“What happened? With us?” 

Heat creeps up the back of your neck and the breeze seems to stop at the question. Like the whole base was waiting on bated breath for your response. “We just… Grew apart. That’s all.”

You hear Poe shift in his seat. “No, I don’t think that’s it. Not entirely.”

“What do you want me to say, Poe?” “I want you to look at me and tell me the truth.”

“I told you the truth.” Your clipped response is bitter on your tongue and you keep your body facing away from him. “We grew apart and the war got in the way of everything else.”

“This isn’t just some distance thing, tell me what happened.”

“I have nothing else to say.”

“You’re still not telling me the truth. I know you, why did you suddenly-”

“Because you left!” The words rip out of you and you finally stand, whirling around to face him. “Because you left me, Poe.”

Indignation blazes across his face. “I never left you, not any longer than a mission required of me!”

“That’s not what I mean!” Both your voices are too loud for the quiet watch, but you don’t care. Emotions flare and dance in your veins, demanding to be released. “You stopped giving a damn and then kicked me out of your room and told me you were busy. You stopped fighting for me. For us. You left one day and never really came back.”

The silence seems to echo as your words fade from the lone tower, open to the night sky. “I’d been trying for weeks at that point, Poe, and you kept pushing me away. So I stopped trying because you obviously didn’t want me around!”

“When have I ever said I don’t want you around?” He’s also standing, stepping into your orbit with his hands extended to his sides.

“You didn’t have to say it.” Stomping away from him to the rail of the tower, you lean against the weathered wood, “It was painfully clear.”

He follows you and grips your shoulders, spinning you to face him. “I’ve been out of my damn mind trying to be a leader in all of this. You know what Leia expects of me, you know what’s at stake-”

“Of course I do!” You shake his hands off you and push him away, “But I thought it would be exactly because of those reasons that you’d give a fuck about me. I thought, for a moment, that I was one of those things you were fighting for.”

“You were! You still are, and you always have been!”

“Just stop.” Your voice is trembling with rage and pain; searing white flames lick through the marrow of your bones. “Whether you meant to or not, you made it very clear where your priorities are and I’ve made my peace with the fact that this,” a sweeping gesture to the sleeping base below, “is your priority. Not me. And I shouldn’t be. I mean, hell, what am I compared to the entire Resistance?”

Needing to put any amount of distance between you, you make your way to the other side of the tower and settle into a chair, facing away from Poe. The noise from the breeze and insects comes back into focus as you curl your legs against your chest. 

After a moment, Poe’s voice reaches you from across the tower, “Do you know why I told you I was busy that night? Why I told you to go sleep somewhere else?”

You don’t respond, hugging your legs tighter as the anger starts to fizzle into sadness.

“I told you to leave because Leia had informed me that we had just lost an entire squadron to an ambush in the Mid-Rim. I had gotten some intel that there was going to be an unprotected shipment of weapons in the area and that group was sent out to get them. It was a trap, and my bad information got them all killed.” Poe stayed away from you through his explanation, his voice drifting by more quietly with each word. “None of them made it home. Because of me.”

The urge to go to him, to wrap him in your arms and comfort him, nearly overwhelms you for a moment before he continues. “I told you to leave because I didn’t want you, of all people, to see me break. I shattered that night, and when the sun rose and I realized that I’d made a huge mistake, you had already transferred and I didn’t see you again for weeks.”

Silent tears fall from your eyes at his admissions; the truths he laid in front of you. “So I let you go,” he whispers, “because it felt like some sort of karmic justice to lose you for what happened to those fighters.”

You find your voice again and say, “I’m sorry about the mission, I didn’t know… But that doesn’t make any of this better. It doesn’t excuse the fact that you didn’t even try.”

“You haven’t let me try.” His quiet voice begins to turn to ice.

“How was I supposed to know you even wanted to? You knew where my quarters were, you have access to all my orders; you could’ve come talk to me at any time and yet you didn’t.”

Heavy footsteps move away toward the edge of the tower. Without turning, you can picture his face in the starlight: his eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed, muscles in his jaw and neck jumping as he clenches his teeth. “You said I didn’t try. That I made it obvious I didn’t want you around. Well, Captain,” he spits your rank into the night, “you made it pretty clear as well that you didn’t want to be near me. Switching squads and dodging me at every turn.”

“You have no right-” you begin, but Poe cuts you off.

“I have every right!” His yell echoes off the gently rolling hills surrounding the base. “I have every damn right when you throw accusations in my face like this. You wanna talk about someone leaving or giving up? How about we talk about how all it took was one bad night for me for you to completely push me away?”

Rage begins simmering in your gut again, bringing you to your feet and back across the tower. “You never gave me any indication that you were dealing with more than the normal amount of stress. I tried everything I could to ease that stress for you; bringing you food when you were drowning in paperwork in your room, letting you fuck me every night even when you couldn’t look me in the eye, ignoring every red flag just to try and prove to you that I was there through it all. And it was never enough.”

“Well, I guess that’s our answer, then.” Poe keeps his gaze locked with yours, eyes gleaming with fury and sadness.

Your heart shatters. “I… I guess it is.”

“I’ll send someone else up here.” Poe lingers for a heartbeat, fists clenched at his side, before turning and heading down the stairs, leaving you alone. 

You stare out over base, watching Poe’s form disappear from view in the night, each step a death knell in your bones. Any future you daydreamed about fades with each passing breath. By the time Poe’s replacement makes it up the tower, the early morning wind has dried your tears and frozen a thick casing of ice around your heart.

[ghouldtime]

Ghost'ed Part Two

Follow up to this post about literal ghost! Ghost

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Normally, an investigation wouldn't be halted so early on, especially upon seeing true, actual evidence. However, to simply put it, your equipment was fucked. No amount of button pushing would change that and replacing the batteries was a bust considering those somehow disappeared too.

Ghost the ghost who ghosted you might as well be a rotten thief too. You're certain that you put those batteries in your bag yet no matter how you rummaged through the many compartments it was as if they had vanished into thin air, much like the specter that roamed somewhere around the house.

As much as frustration weighed on you, urging you to just throw your hands up into the air once more, walk out, and quit - you knew that wasn't an option. You'd been paid to do a job and still had yet to finish. Saying "Oh well, sorry, my equipment died" wouldn't be a good enough explanation and would only end up with more sceptics and a thorough verbal berating you're sure would be worse than dealing with any ghost out there.

You couldn't let this bastard win. It's time to go the old fashioned route.

"Okay, I know you're here." You spoke as you grabbed your 'emergency' power out kit, knowing that there's no better time than the present to use it, "But so am I. You're not getting rid of me."

At least it paid to be prepared. It wasn't your first rodeo and unruly ghosts weren't unheard of but this is certainly the first time that one has had the audacity to steal your batteries.

A simple golden compass, glowstick, service desk bell, manual thermometer, mechanical film camera, and spirit board would hopefully be your saviors. All of your high tech equipment had failed you but that didn't mean the old reliable, tried and true methods couldn't work. They'd just take more time.

Rummaging in the bag, your fingers curled around the smooth glass of the thermometer tube and the gilded surface of the compass alike, pulling them out and settling them into your hands. The glowstick followed suit as you took it in hand, the crack of the tube echoing throughout the house as you shook the contents to life. While the dull, luminous green glow might not be much, it at least was better than having to rely on your eyes in the darkness alone.

The rest of the equipment stayed in the bag as you hauled it on your back. They'd come in use when you finally found this slippery bastard who you were already beginning to not like.

Each step you took further into the house echoed off the lofty walls and ricocheted off the high ceilings as you set off once more. Every hair stood on end as you kept all of your senses on high alert, listening for any little creak or groan that might give away the presence of something else.

This wasn't a basic ghost, it couldn't be. You mentally mused as you checked through the kitchen, the red liquid of the thermometer refusing to go down stubbornly as the compass idly swayed. Normally ghosts didn't usually have the capability to drain all equipment at once. Sure, draining a battery or two or short circuiting some devices were common enough - that's why you had backups. But all of them? That's nearly unheard of.

And that wasn't even considering the fact that it stole your batteries.

You didn't misplace them, that you knew. You'd reassured yourself too many times for it to be anything else. Checking through your equipment and being anything less than thorough wasn't your style. When it came to dealing with the paranormal and the undead, you couldn't be too careful. And yet it's like your batteries didn't even exist in the first place, like you'd never even put them there.

How it possessed such capability was beyond you.

Were you dealing with a ghost? Came to mind as an intrusive, unwelcomed thought as you checked the bathroom, scrutinizing for any abnormalities. The pipes felt cold to the touch still and absolutely nothing had moved in there, making yet another room that was a bust.

Ghosts usually weren't this strong. Taking things is unheard of. Was it a demon? The possibility flashed across your mind as you creaked open the door to the guest room, checking the temperature and compass alike which sadly both seemed content to stay in one place.

Then again, it drained everything. Maybe it took that energy just to steal the batteries. You tried to reason. A shudder ran down your spine at the possibility of dealing with something much worse than a simple paranormal apparition.

Dying to Ghost the demon would be laughable. This was just a prankster spirit, right? It had to be.

Checking through the house twice more turned up no results. Not a single temperature fluctuation, not a single moment of the compass going awry. Whoever or whatever this was was one slippery, sneaky, bastard. Your mind shuffled through the possibilities as you racked your brain, trying to figure out the next steps in this careful dance.

It couldn't leave the house, most spirits and paranormal were location bounded. So it had to be here. Maybe you needed to give it a minute after doing something that big - maybe it just needed to recharge.

Sighing, your lips pursed downwards into a frown. Wandering around aimlessly for another half hour would prove to be fruitless. Trying to do the same thing over and over again and expecting different results was the definition of insanity. You needed to switch it up.

Normally, taunting and trying to draw it out was risky behavior, but your equipment was broken (that would be a pain in the ass later to swap out the batteries on literally everything) and what else could you do? Maybe except for hoping that this just was a really bad spirit and not something worse.

"Okay, Ghost. That's your name, right?" You spoke as you started walking down the halls once more, brandishing your glowstick like the faint beam of light could turn up some evidence. "I'm not playing games with you anymore, I'm here for a reason."

Silence still greeted you, only interrupted by the sounds of your own breaths and heartbeat alike. "But I suppose you are too."

The stillness that greeted you should be expected for such a house but it still sent a shiver down your spine and had your hair stand on end as you tense, ears straining as you listened for something, anything.

Oh how you wish your beloved spirit box was working right about now.

"I don't know if you want to be here," You began as you kept walking, eyeing the streaks of paint that you supposed were supposed to be thought provoking paintings that hung on the wall, a small cringe running through your system at them, " But I sure don't. I mean, it's a place creepier than you. Who chooses white furniture? Now that's scary."

You're not sure if talking would do anything but at least it might make you feel a little less alone in this place, like you could possibly find the something that you knew was out there somewhere. "Not exactly a prime place for a haunt. Can't imagine you went out of your way to want to be here."

Solitude seemed to be your only companion as everything went unanswered, still, as your round of the house started to creep up upon a full circle. "Look, Ghost, I'm here whether you like it or not. And I'm here to help. It's your choice if it's going to be the homeowners I'm helping, or you. I'm the only one going to listen. You think the people who monogrammed their soaps are going to care about what happens to you?"

Maybe you needed to instigate, just a little bit. "If I can't find something or get an answer, you know what's going to happen? They're going to get a hot-shot know-it-all in who does something stupid and either straight up banishes you into non-existence, or traps you to a room. Do you really want that?"

Yet again the echo of your voice was the only thing that greeted you, but out of the corner of your eye the red of your thermometer slowly bobbed down, as if having been awaiting this cue.

Thoroughly resisting the urge to cheer as your heart leapt at the possibility that you've finally called its number, you didn't stop the smile that bloomed on your face or how you nearly dropped the items in your hand as you held them up.

The thin needle on the compass swayed the smallest bit, far too much to be because of the smallest jittery tremble in your hands. You had to keep going, this was the right way, "C'mon, you just have to work with me. That's all that I ask. Maybe I can even get you out of here." You spoke louder, hoping that your voice may carry further.

When the last sentence left your mouth, the compass needle twirled as a chill settled upon the air in an instantaneous reaction. Goosebumps prickled your flesh as your breath fogged in front of you, your movement halting as you glanced around the hallway you found yourself in. Moonlight filtered through the wide windows, bathing the space in a silvery glow that almost could've been comforting if it weren't for the fact it only drew out the contrasting lack of color that matched everything in this house.

Built in bookshelves and cabinets alike lined the wall, though the items on it were sparse aside from a few gaudy statues and decorative items which you couldn't quite figure out the shape of. Aside from that, there was little to note. The space seldom seemed used between the light layer of dust coating the racks and the obvious disinterest they had in decorating it. Maybe there was something here you overlooked - something they overlooked too.

Setting the bag of your stuff down, your first instinct was to peruse through whatever the shelf may have, but setting up first seemed a lot wiser. This time, though, everything was thoroughly ghost proof. Unless this was a throwing stuff kind, which you doubted (or at least sincerely hoped not).

Clouded mists of your breath fanned in front of you as the temperature kept lowering, a small shiver inevitably wracking your spine as you set up. Luckily, them leaving a lot of space meant you had plenty of room to do what you needed. Brushing some of the dust off, you set the brass bell down and placed the spirit board beside it. The compass and thermometer went back in your bag as a preventative measure in case it was the aforementioned throwing things kind of ghost, you would hate to have things damaged... or to have to clean them up, while the glowstick still remained.

Taking the still-luminous tube in hand, you held it up as you inspected the contents of the shelves closer. "You're tied to something here, aren't you?" You said mainly to yourself as you tilted your head to read the gilded writing that brandished the sides of the few books there were.

It would make the most sense, you rationalized. Ghosts could often have their spirits tied to certain objects and with how the homeowners insisted they hadn't had problems up until a few months ago, it was likely something that was brought in. And seeing as they didn't exactly seem to be in this area, maybe they simply forgot something in their own possesion.

Your eyes flickered over towards the desk bell and the spirit board alike, hoping to catch some form of a response, but once again nothing happened. Typical.

Near everything present seemed to be typical, boring, modern - not something that you'd figure was tied to anything aside from an abnormally bad sense of style. Books on finance, economics, and healthy lifestyles could be horrifying in their own way but they're nothing you were looking for.

The odd sculptures that decorated the shelves and the few trinkets seemed to be relics of a wine night and art class. Matching initials carved into the corners of the pieces seemed to confirm that, as did the more recent dates engraved right beside it. Imperfections present in each told how it was the work of an amateur and certainly wasn't something that was picked up, but rather handmade. Honestly though, as weird as the sculptures were, it was the most human thing in the house. At least there was some semblance of personality in them.

All of the shelves, however, were devoid of anything that could even be a plausibility for an object of interest. Nothing even remotely sent a chill down your spine, nothing immediately registered or seemed like a fit, all of them were too modern, too plain. Deciding to squat down to the cabinets, you popped open the doors and shone the feeble light of the glowstick inside, hoping to find something, anything.

Yet it's only when you reached for a plain, small, leatherbound book in your back that the familiar feeling of being watched prickled the hair on the back of your neck. A gust of breath fanned along the shell of your ear as the same voice you heard earlier spoke. Though this time not through a spirit box or any device, it was right in your ear as clear as the night sky itself.

"Took you long enough, love."

Barley missing hitting the top of the cabinet with your skull, you yelped. Backpedaling, you whipped your head around and were met with anything aside from the nothingness that graced you prior.

All of your breath left your lungs in a single beat as the shimmering apparition tilted their head at you, still crouched. His form swirled in an indistinct yet solid inky blur, as if made up from the shifting shadows themselves. Though the intricacies of his form were swallowed by the shifting darkness, the bleached eternally grinning facade of a skull decorated his face. Had it not been for the fact he stood so close that you could see the ridges of it lifting up as it settled on his face, you would've mistaken it for his skull.

Deep mahogany eyes regarded you with an unreadable, scrutinizing gaze as he simply stared right back at you. "Well?" He asked as he tipped his head the other way in a slow tilt.

Like molted lead had been poured down your throat, any words that had possibly been formed burned away, sinking into the pit of your belly.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He quipped as he rose to his feet, taking a step back from you but staring all the same.

If you weren't so taken aback by his sudden appearance, the absolute absurdity of such a comment coming from a ghost himself would have had you scoffing. Yet he didn't seem to mind your lack of reaction as you stared, all color draining from your face as your mouth fell open.

The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement, the dark brown pools of his irises stood out amongst the stygian shroud of fog that made up his vaguely human form . Had he been a bit more opaque and had a solid consistency instead of a shifting pattern of darkness, you're sure he could have passed for another living being with how he held himself and how clear his voice resonated in the otherwise silent house.

A shiver racked down your spine as a small tremble made itself known in your limbs as you scrambled to your feet. Throughout all your investigations and countless nights spent investigating in dozens of places, you'd never seen something someone so consequential and solid. Any interactions with your equipment, any spirit orbs spotted in a fleeting glimpse out of the corner of your eye, any hushed whisper you heard down a dark hallway, utterly paled in comparison to the being in front of you.

"Y-you.... you're..." Words failed you as your tongue tied itself in knots, your mind scrambling in every which way as it tried to figure out what to say.

You knew ghosts were real but this was -

"Ghost?" He offered, picking the word for you. The thick Mancurian accent lingering on the washed out, almost echoing tone was much too real to be apart of your own vivid imagination.

This was something very different than what you're used to.

You nodded, shutting your mouth as you fell quiet, not trusting yourself to say anything sensible. The rapid thudding of your heart pounding against your ribcage as your breaths came in shaky exhales was the only thing that echoed in the otherwise still, silent room - aside from automatic rush of blood in your ears as your body urged you to run, to do anything to get far far away from here.

Yet adrenaline wouldn't save you from this one. It held you prisoner as you stood rooted in place, your limbs not obeying anything you pleaded them to do as your eyes refused to leave the singular reason you were even in this house to begin with. Said silence remained even as he took a step forwards, the lack of any noise persisting despite the fact he clearly was walking. Even on the hardwood, there wasn't a whisper of noise as he moved closer. "You're awfully quiet now for someone who has been chatting my ears off all evening." He remarked as those dark eyes, framed with the smallest hint of pale lashes that glinted in the moonlight narrowed once more.

Your heart must've skipped another beat at that realization that he'd probably been there from the moment you stepped inside and started talking, lingering in the shadows. "You - you listened?" You spoke, nearly choking on the stuttered words that came out as you tried to find your voice amidst the storm of emotions you felt.

"Hard not to with how loud you are." He snorted, though he seemed less peeved and more amuse with how his eyes seemed to once again fold in what you're assuming was a smile under the mask he wore.

The faintest heat of a blush rose to your cheeks, dusting your pallid features with something warmer as you glanced away for a split second, unable to hold his gaze. Logically, you know you shouldn't be embarrassed about doing your job. Yet you couldn't help but to feel ridiculous when faced with such a real creature of the night, calling you out for doing such things.

Putting yourself in his shoes, you're sure you'd be not too happy all the same if someone waltzed into your house and started throwing their equipment around as they tried to get your attention. Then again, it's not like you were invisible or in that situation. It's not like you were the one haunting the house.

Another realization struck you when you snapped your gaze back to him. The self-consciousness faded away to something that burned much brighter as you tried your best not to glare. "Then why didn't you say anything? Do you know how long I've-" You cut yourself off, shaking your head.

Of course he knew how long you were looking for him, all around the house. He was right there the entire time.

He seemed none too bothered with it, tilting his head once more. If he were arching a brow or smiling again, you couldn't quite tell as the expression faded. "I did." He countered, "It's not my fault that you found my answers unsatisfactory."

"You only said ghost!" You protested, unable to help the half pitch up and the rush that your words came out in.

He nodded, "Answered your questions just fine, love."

You swear you heard the self-satisfied smirk in his voice, even if it were hidden amongst the everything that he was. Another flare of indignation rose in you at that as you pointed an accusing finger at him.

"I asked you your name! Not what you are."

"That is my name. Or was."

You weren't sure if he was plain stupid, confused, or truly thought that's what he was called. An exasperated sigh left your lungs as you threw your hand up and dropped it on your thigh.

"You're telling me that you, a ghost, are named Ghost?" You echoed, pressing your lips into a thin line.

You didn't let him answer as you continued, "You're also aware that you're not alive and that ghost is a thing - a way the people here," Your hands swept to the house in a broad gesture, "Are referring to you as because they don't know your name."

The charged hush that fell between you was anything but peaceful. No words were said for a few long moments as you glared at him. Raising up his arms, he crossed them as he regarded you with the same, unreadable expression.

"I'm dead, love. Not deaf." He replied, his own voice infuriatingly calm, "No need to shout."

Your mouth fell open once more but this time not from horror or surprise, but from the utter audacity he had. The same low, rumbling chuckle that you heard earlier echoed as he surely grinned. "While I'm dead, I'm not stupid. I'm well aware." He answered as he moved further backwards to lean against the wall, nearly seeping into the shadows there.

"Ghost was my name before I died." He explained with a casual shrug, "Quite ironic to end up this way, really. Suppose its the universes' retribution and eternal punishment for using it as my callsign - if you believe in that sort of thing, anyhow."

You might as well with what you were staring at. Had there ever been a moment to believe in such things, now would've been the perfect time as you stood in the presence of an undead being that shouldn't have existed; much less, one you shouldn't have been talking to. Even as he said that though, he didn't seem to care for it or believe it himself as he snorted a small sigh through his nose and shrugged, regarding you with a lazy gaze.

"Callsign..." You repeated, your brows furrowing as you wracked your brain from where you knew that word from.

"You were in the military?" You asked the moment the connection formed, recalling such a thing from the videogames you played in the days of your youth.

Ghost gave a single, curt nod. "It's the reason I'm Ghost in more ways than one now."

At least his sense of humor wasn't dead - as much as you weren't a fan of it right now.

"Right." You said, biting back the instinctive urge to apologize for something you didn't do, as a pang of something seized your heart with a relentless grasp.

You weren't the reason he was dead, and you certainly don't know what you were apologizing for. The fact that he met his maker? The fact he was here right now? The fact he was a ghost? Either way, it wasn't your fault, but you had to bite back the 'Sorry' that threatened to fall out on instinct, as if you were hearing about someone's bad day.

"Why are you here now, then?" You asked after another small beat, looking around the house that seemed anything but fitting for him. "I mean... in this house. I don't think either of us can figure out the afterlife thing fully." You clarified in a quick rush, trying your best not to sound like a total idiot.

Though the flush on your cheeks returned and made itself known as it warmed your body once more like you donned a light winter jacket, he didn't say anything about it or your jumbled rush of justification.

Ghost contemplated it for a long moment, glancing around the hallway itself and staring at the figurines on the shelf and the few decorations to match. Bringing a hand up to his face, he scrubbed it down his chin. "Wasn't my idea, believe me. I've seen livelier decor in a hostage cell."

Admittedly, that part had you agreeing as you suppressed the smile that fought so hard to surface and the giggle to match. You weren't going to admit that as much of an initial annoyance he had been, he was growing on you and... okay, maybe he was funny. Not yet. The annoyance from earlier would have to fully fade away to nothingness.

Ghost nodded towards the bottom cabinet that you had left open, "They have my journal. It was on me when I died."

Your eyes were drawn back to the faded frayed edges of the black leatherbound journal, tucked away in the corner that you had almost touched before he made his appearance. That had to be the one. Hesitancy weighed on you as you didn't reach for it just yet. Touching such a personal item with him right there felt wrong - especially admitting it was something that he had on his person when he finally met his maker. Yet you didn't fight the urge to step forward towards it, nor to urge to kneel right back where you had been.

"You should be able to fill in the rest. After all, aren't you the paranormal investigator?" He remarked as he too stepped closer too, silent footfalls leading him to hover over you.

Of course you were - and of course you knew. Violent deaths meant there's a chance that a spirit can be tied to something, especially a personal object of value. It was your initial haunch when you stepped into this all too modern house. There had to be something here, a reason why a ghost would suddenly turn up. And seeing as there weren't any deaths or burial grounds or anything to warrant such a level of haunting, that was the typical reason.

Seeing as he was in the military and didn't seem to be too old, it's likely because he met an untimely end too that he ended up anchored to such an object to begin with. Unfinished business, as they would say. Not that he had a choice in that matter. You weren't going to pry on that part and why or how he died, but it told you all that you needed to know to do your job here.

Technically, you now had everything you needed to know to finish your job. You could walk out that door, evidence in hand, and tell them that they were indeed housing the super natural. That's what your job was as a paranormal investigator and nothing more. They called you in to find evidence of the supernatural, not to "take care" of it. You were not exorcist or priest to match and weren't ready to play on that scale of fucking around and finding out.

Yet, for some reason, you hesitated. As much as you wanted to be out of the house, you didn't want to go and simply leave this restless spirit. Doing such a thing after making a discovery this huge felt like abandonment after he showed his face and talked to you.

Of course, it could be a trick. It could be another supernatural creature posing, pretending to be the spirit of a soldier who met his end all too soon. Maybe it was a demon taking form and -

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his form flicker. The solidness of it fading in and out, as if a flashlight were being shone through him. "As nice as this chat was, afraid I don't have the energy to be here much longer." He spoke, the echo of his voice more pronounced, like the whispers of his tone were being dragged out and thrown to all ends of the room, "The batteries you had were lovely but they can only do so much."

You didn't even have it in you to be mad at him for that anymore. Not when he probably swiped them and drained them of all their energy just to be able to make himself visible and to come to you. How long he had been waiting to do something like this, hoping to have someone, anyone to talk too you didn't know. There were so many questions, so many things unanswered, but those were pushed to the back of your mind as you locked eyes with him once more.

Like a watercolor wash, those deep browns ebbed away bit by bit as they faded out into a tawny shade to match the swirls of shadows that made up his form hazing into fuzzier lines. Even though they were waning like the moonlight from the tall windows as they turned into a muddled shade, the slight melancholy and droop of his the corners spoke plenty that words couldn't say.

You didn't need to say anything else as you took ahold of the book before you could think, the thrum of energy that greeted you instantaneous as the pads of your fingers grazed the cool leather. The electricity that flowed through your veins caused your hair to stand on, the tidal wave of a summery balm coursing through them all the same as it set your nerves alight. While he couldn't touch you physically, its as if he himself were matching your energy with his own, the little that he had left. You didn't need to ask anything to know that this was right.

Wrapping it in your arms in a wordless promise, what had once been a plain unassuming book alone gathering dust on a shelf was now the most precious thing you could hold. You weren't holding a book alone, no, you were holding a life - a life that had been cut short and doomed to walk the earth, bound to the confines of the singular object that weighed him down more than any physical anchor could have. What you held was his lifeline and his burden all the same; his chance at redemption and damnation all the same. And you weren't going to let that, or him, go anytime soon.

A silent vow passed as your eyes met what was left of his - you weren't going to leave him, you weren't going to abandon him or leave him here to rot all in his lonesome. He'd taken a chance and so would you.

Before he finally disappeared, he leaned forwards, bringing the tips of his wisping fingers to skim against your cheek. Though his ice cold touch froze you as it gusted across your skin in a breeze, sending another shiver down your spine, your heart couldn't have been warmer. Your eyes snapped shut at the sensation, the cool touch fading just as fast as it came.

When you finally opened your eyes, you were greeted with an empty room. The pang of disappointment that hit faded as fast as it came as your hold on the book tightened once more, the smallest spark of energy tingling through your veins. He might not be in the room but he was still here, tucked underneath your fingertips.

Your eyes traced over the name etched on the top that had gone unnoticed prior as you held it up in the moonlight, "Alright, Simon. Let's get you home."

[imagine-silk]

I forgot to make the Assaultron request for the men, sorry. Could you do the obsession of the Fallout 4 guys coming back from a trip with an assaultron and saying: "Hey, say hello to my lover H.A.L. (Handsome Assaultron of Love)!" I forgot to make the request earlier after I made the request for the Ladies, so is it okay to still request it?

》I love that I remember exactly what you're talking about cause that ask was from over a year ago. It's also interesting to me how much my style has changed.

》Also I go back and forth giving H.A.L he/it pronouns because it didn't specifically state what was preferred.

【Codsworth】 "If I knew you'd get so restless as to settle for a bucket of bolts I would have offered my services."

He doesn't believe you are in love with H.A.L Instead he believes you missed having a spouse and couldn't find a human to replace their presence. He immediately insist you get rid of it and replace it with him. He knows everything about you. What you like, what you dislike, what your spouse was like, he can take care of you in almost every way. What does H.A.L know about you? Not enough. He'll make his distaste very verbal unless you tell him to stop, however his distaste will simply go from verbal to silently obvious.

【Danse】 "I... I..."

Pre-BB he would get rid of it by saying the Brotherhood was confiscating the technology and be done with it. However Post-BB doesn't have those resources or self-assurance. He'll try to congratulate you even as he feels chaos on the inside. This peace is only temporary for you. He will snap at some point. He doesn't even remember doing it. He was going for a walk in the middle of the night and he saw them. Next thing he knew they were scraped and he was holding a shovel. In a panic he simply runs back to his home, hoping no one saw.

【Deacon】 "Think about it. I'm your friend, I care about you. How can you trust them?"

He knows KL.E.O was able to become sentient so he knows this isn't an act. But he brought this upon himself for trying to stay close to you as your best buddy and nothing else. As much as he is chastising himself he thinks of ways of distancing you from H.A.L. He needs you for a mission across the Commonwealth and a robot following you would raise suspicion. Don't you ever get the feeling H.A.L watching you too much? The Railroad's base is secret and H.A.L really wants to go. Isn't that weird? Why did they talk to you specifically? They could have known how important you are in the Wasteland. Suddenly you are questioning all these things he tells you.

【Hancock】 "I might be mayor but I don't know everything that happens in my town."

There are very few times he abuses his power as mayor. Sure he uses it a few times to prove a point but he rarely asks anything of his residents. However he asks if H.A.L is ever alone they should dismantle them, preferably in a mob. They're not doing anything in particular when it happens and you will not know until you see the broke pieces for yourself. Not a single person fesses up to the crime.

【MacCready】 "What model were you again?"

He's not too happy about this new development. He was waiting for you to realize how much he does for you, for free might he add, and start to realize he's the one for you. The thought it's his fault for not asking himself crosses his mind for exactly one second before he dismisses it. He wastes no time finding manuals on assaultrons, because every single one has a weakness that will dismantle them in a push of a button. And when he says he can help fix them he 'accidentally' hits that button and crushes their chip.

【Nick】 "I didn't think it's programing would allow it to do that but it could be a crime of passion, seeing as it's taken to you so thoroughly."

On one hand he's pissed, on the other he's kind of happy he knows you'll date a machine. He'll praise you for being progressive while treating H.A.L with disdain while your back is turned. When a string of murders pop up he does his routine detective work, however instead of arresting the culprit he shoots them dead. Now that the real murderer is off the streets he can get to work framing H.A.L as the prime suspect.

【Preston】 "I will always be here for you."

He was so busy with the Minutemen and keeping you safe he didn't notice you were talking to someone new. He looks away for one second and you find a new lover before him. In his mind this is a national level tragedy, but outwardly he acts friendly. He calls you away to work with him more often so you spend less time with H.A.L. He turns up his charm and hides it behind friendliness. And one day H.A.L is just gone. What were you to do but cry on his shoulder as he reassured you this might be for the best?

【X6-88】 "It was a threat."

He kills H.A.L. Takes them out one night and shoots them dead with the laser rifle you gave him as poetic justice. When you go to him for reassurance and ask him what happened he admits to killing them, that they were dangerous and he out of all people can recognize a threat. He was just taking out a problem before it became one. What he won't admit is the satisfaction it gave him to put H.A.L down.

[mordenheim]

Let's try this

(Another BIG cameo here, by the wonderful https://www.furaffinity.net/user/mistybun )

Spring sighed as he leaned against the wall.  The big animatronic rabbit hadn’t been so drained after a performance for years and he was a little concerned.  It had gradually been getting worse the past few days, but he had always been able to make it back to his room for a quick charge to get him through.

Tonight, though, was different.  He leaned with his back against the wall, his legs angled to prop himself up.  He felt like he was about to crumple to the floor under his own weight.  It was all he could do to keep himself upright, much less make his way back to his room.

It wasn’t too long before the new night-shift technician found him and rushed over.  The young brown bat immediately placed a hand on the big bun’s forearm.

“Hey!  Hey, are you okay?”

Slowly lifting his head, he turned towards the bat, blinking.  “Huh?  Who’re you?”

“Screamer.  Here, let’s get you down to Parts and Service.”

Nodding mutely, the rabbit pushed himself up off of the wall and almost immediately started to collapse.  Rushing forward, Screamer caught him as best he could, giving out a grunt.  The animatronic towered over the five foot six inch bat, having a full two feet on him.  Not to mention he was heavier than he looked.  Still, he pushed himself up under one of his arms and steadied him.  “Think you can walk if I help you along?”

Not wanting to waste any more energy than necessary, he just nodded.  Leaning heavily on the tech, they shuffled their way down the hall and into the service elevator.  The door slid closed behind them and Screamer punched the  button for sub-basement 2.

Once the elevator doors slid open, the two of them hobbled their way across to the door to parts and services.  Carefully helping Spring up onto a work table, the bat doubled over with his hands on his knees for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

Spring turned his head in his direction, a look of concern on his face.  “Are you okay?”

“Huh?  Heh..  Yeah..  just.. Out of breath.  Gimme a second.”

“Gotcha.  Sorry about this.  Just..  I don’t think my battery’s holding a proper charge lately.”

Screamer nodded and stretched, extending his wings as he bent almost completely backwards before straightening up and folding them so tight and neatly behind his back they almost seemed to vanish behind him.  “I can replace that for you if you want.  Upgrade it, even!”

“Upgrade, huh?  Well, whatever you think’s best, I guess.”

“Wonderful!  I shouldn’t even need to power you down to do it!”  He grabbed a set of wires with alligator clips on the ends.  He steps over next to the big bunny on the table and nods respectfully, “May I?”

Spring blinked.  This was the first time a tech had actually asked or shown any kind of respect or concern.  He was surprised, but pleasantly so.  Nodding, he gave a little smile.  “Go ahead..  Uh..  please.”

Nodding, he carefully opened the big bun’s chest compartment and clipped the ends to the power terminals where his existing battery was kept.  Turning away for a moment, he came back carrying a box labeled “MDM Labs”.  The box itself looked a little old and dusty, like it had been stored away for a while.  Brushing off the dust he opened the box and carefully removed something that looked like a cross between a battery and a model of a space station.  

“Let’s try this.”

Spring was about to ask what it was when Screamer attached the clamps at the opposite end of the wire and Spring was jolted with a surge of energy.  He actually let out a gasp as the bat looked him over carefully.  “You okay?”

He nodded, grinning.  “Yeah, just never went from an almost dead battery to fully charged in one shot like that!”

Nodding, he carefully swapped the two batteries, keeping the big rabbit online the entire time and carefully closed the chest panel, tossing the old battery in the recycling bin.  “There we go.  How do you feel?”

Sitting up, Spring hopped off of the table to his big metal paws.  “Like a million bucks!  What kind of battery was that?”

“Well, according to the paperwork, it was actually a radioisotope generator, or an atomic battery.  If the information is accurate, it never needs charging and there shouldn’t be any drop-off in energy output for a good long while.”

Spring nodded.  He could feel the energy filling him up, tingling over every circuit and actuator.  Shivering a little, he stretched luxuriantly, his fingers a few inches from the ceiling when he felt a little surge of power and gave out a groan, then froze as he felt his hand lie flat against the tiles overhead.

“Uh.. Screamer?  I think…”

The bat turned to see the slightly bigger bun, then blinked as he surged larger, his head slamming upwards, breaking through the drop ceiling and exposing pipes and electrical conduits.  Spring crouched down in front of him, shivering as he felt his size surge again, bumping into the blushing bat.

“Oh boy…  How long did you say this can go before the power levels drop off?”

The bat gulped, rubbing the big rabbit’s shoulder and feeling it swell even larger in his hand.  “A few…  hundred years…”

[just-mebs]

And here is my Blight version! Decend Beyond is one of my favorite DBD chapters so I had a blast making these. I might make more honestly!!

Felix's Version

Talbot Grimes - The Blight

Talbot Grimes is an unpredictable alchemist, able to use his studies to boost efficiency and test the limits of his research.

His personal Perks, Boon: Blood Favour, Boon: Undying, and Dragon’s Grip, give him the ability to impose powerful effects on the environment around him.

Lore

The italicized part is from his real lore, everything is the same up to that part-

Into his adult years, his ambition developed as quickly as his questionable methods. He attended the London School of Medicine and excelled despite several reprimands. His willingness to push the limits secured him a position with the British East India Company, and within seven years he was made head chemist. In time, he completed one of his greatest achievements: a chemical that could increase a worker's productivity while reducing their need for rest. He was rewarded with a secret laboratory beneath a prison camp on Dyer Island.

Talbot found others like him - brilliant minds drawn together by a shared obsession with discovery. They were chemists, physicists, historians, and heretics of science, unbound by convention and unbothered by ethics. Their work didn’t just challenge the boundaries of life and death - it discarded them entirely. At first, Talbot believed they were pioneers, visionaries chasing the next great leap for mankind. But it became clear, slowly and terribly, that they weren’t trying to improve humanity.

They were trying to replace it.

Still, he joined them. He couldn’t allow himself to not. Their knowledge was vast, their methods intoxicating. Every experiment brought a thrill of possibility, each formula a glimpse of something greater. He told himself it was all in service of progress - until time itself seemed to dissolve in the sterile light of the lab.

Days bled into weeks. Weeks into... he couldn’t be sure. Meals were forgotten. Sunlight became myth. The deeper he went, the less he remembered why he had come.

The blindfold only fell when one of their trials - one involving a volatile compound he had helped perfect - went catastrophically wrong. The room erupted in screams, not of pain, but of transformation. Skin ruptured. Bones twisted. Talbot caught sight of himself in mirrored glass and saw a stranger staring back - a man part way through a metamorphosis not meant for mortals.

Panic overtook him.

He ran.

But the facility - once so precise and clinical - had become something else entirely. Corridors looped impossibly, some leading back to rooms he’d just fled. Others bent at angles that defied architecture. Walls breathed. Floors wept. Carvings he’d never seen before etched themselves across the concrete, shapes that pulsed with a knowledge both ancient and cruel.

He clawed at doors that no longer opened. Screamed for help from voices that had long stopped answering.

Finally, exhausted and delirious, Talbot collapsed onto the cold floor of a room that had no ceiling, only a blue void that stared back with intent. As his vision faded, a black fog crawled in through the cracks - not seeping, but reaching.

Unique Perks

Boon: Blood Favour

"You bleed, and it listens. You suffer, and it acts."

Press and hold the Active Ability button on a Dull or Hex Totem to bless it and create a Boon Totem. Soft chimes ring out in a radius of 24 meters. For each injured, hooked, or dead survivor, Boon: Blood Favour gains a token. For each token (max of 4), increase the radius of the Boon by 2/3/4 meters to a max of 8/12/16. This effect applies to all Boon effects on the totem.

The following applies to the killer when they are inside the radius of the Boon:

Pallets take +2% longer to break per token

Stuns last +2% longer per token

Recovery from missed basic attacks take +2% longer per token

Boon: Undying

When hope is snuffed out, yours grows stronger.

Press and hold the Active Ability button on a Dull or Hex Totem to bless it and create a Boon Totem. Soft chimes ring out in a radius of 24 meters.

All Survivors benefit from the following effects when inside the Boon Totem's radius:

Survivors hooked inside Boon: Undying have a decelerated Sacrifice Process by 6/8/10%

Each time a Boon Totem is destroyed, you gain a token. Each token adds a stackable 3%/4%/5% bonus to action speed to Healing and Unhooking, up to 8/10/12 tokens.

Every time you lose a health state, lose 2 tokens.

Dragon’s Grip

You’ve learned how to push your gear beyond its limits — but it doesn’t come without consequences.

When holding a depleted item, press the Active Ability Button to instantly recharge it by 50%. After activation, you scream and become exposed for 50/40/30 seconds.

Dragon’s Grip is disabled for the remainder of the Trial after the third use.

Concept Board

[michelalovesbieber]

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The dashboard's centerpiece is a massive touchscreen interface that stands out. Latest models showcase a landscape-oriented display without any visible bezel or frame. Digital controls replace dozens of physical buttons. The central screen controls almost everything from climate settings to navigation. This creates a clean environment where drivers can focus on the road ahead.

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Storage space is abundant. The car has front and rear cargo areas and fold-flat seats. Three adults fit comfortably in the back with plenty of legroom and headroom. The rear seat has a foldable armrest with storage space and wireless charging.

Moving this car between states requires special attention to its unique features. The yoke-style steering wheel shows Tesla's innovative approach. It removes traditional stalks and adds capacitive controls instead. This bold design choice shows Tesla's steadfast dedication to reinventing how we drive through minimalism and smart technology.

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SPACIOUS INTERIOR AND GREEN MATERIALS OF THE LATEST CAR MODELS

The Lucid Air's impressive cabin stems from the company's "Lucid Space Concept" philosophy. Smart packaging of the electric drivetrain and battery pack creates more room than you'd find in similar-sized vehicles. The engineering team designed thinner battery sections under the footwells. This ensures passengers sit naturally with proper knee angles.

Owners can use the Lucid App to open the doors remotely. The doors swing open smoothly to welcome passengers. The interior blends premium materials with thoughtful design elements seamlessly. The cabin features:

A Floating 34-inch Curved Glass Cockpit Display Showing Information in Crisp 4k Resolution

A Power-retractable Pilot Panel Touchscreen That Tucks Into the Dash and Reveals Hidden Storage

Tri-zone Automatic Climate Control With Concealed Air Vents That Keep the Esthetic Clean

Optional 21-speaker Surreal Sound Pro Immersive Audio System With Dolby Atmos Technology

Material choices show Lucid's steadfast dedication to green practices without sacrificing luxury. The options range from Nappa leather from the world's only carbon-neutral producer to PurLuxe leather alternative with unique perforation patterns. They also offer textiles made from sustainable alpaca wool and fully recycled yarn. The Silvered Eucalyptus wood trim comes from sustainable sources that retain their natural look and scent.

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[gingerlurk]

Lovers' Crest | Chapter 2: The Mechanic

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Summary: You get to know the Crest, surprising the hell out of your host.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), canon-typical violence, eventual smut/filth, post season 3, canon-typical violence, Reader has hair long enough for a braid. uhhhh please advise if there's more to add here thank you

A/N: Hi! To say again, I am completely new here. I am just a struggling writer with a brittle heart and this little story has lifted me out of a block the size of a small moon (that's no moon). Here on A03, I just got encouraged to share here. And in terms of Star Wars canon and mechanics stuff, I'm just making it up, friends. Hoping it's still a fun story like its inspo.

--

‘Dank farrik,’ he – Mando – mutters, punching at the pad until it lights up.

The ship had been cruising at sublight for a while, you assume so that your pilot could chart out courses or whatever. Navigation was never your strong suit.

‘I will need to make a stop,’ he says. It’s not apparent whether he’s talking to you or himself. ‘These blast corners are not going to last the journey.’

You sit up. What are you doing? You ask, ‘Do you have the parts?’ 

‘Yes,’ he says absently. ‘But it is a specialised process. In cases like this, I take the Crest to a dock.’

‘I could replace them.’ Shut up.

He doesn’t register you for a long beat. Then looks over his shoulder. ‘What?’

‘I can replace them for you.’ You can’t stop yourself. 

‘And you know,’ your eyes roll around the cockpit. Why are you about to say this? Keep it to yourself. But you’d been noting little things to keep yourself occupied and, for some reason you don’t scrutinise too closely, you want to let this guy see you for who you are.

‘That transition from atmo would go a lot smoother if your power didn’t have to divert through the drag shafts. A little rigging, a simple program, and it can pass straight through the core. Smooth as.’ 

His whole upper body turns toward you. 

‘And,’ you lean forward, ‘I bet those thrusters were last serviced on Navarro?’

A heavy pause.

‘They were.’

You sniff, knowingly. ‘Don’t get me wrong – can’t fault those mechanics much – but for some reason they insist on four cylinders for every row. Is it cultural? I don’t know. But it just gums up the rotation. You only need two.’

Finally, he rotates his chair, facing you. He leans forward on his elbows.

‘How do you know all this?’ You hear what he doesn’t verbalise, You’re a wealthy, spoiled heiress who’s never known a day’s work.

You just keep a level look on your face. ‘I’d rather keep that to myself, if it’s all the same. Cards close to the chest and all that. But I can be more helpful than just sitting here. I can help out around here, show your ship some love.’

He huffs and leans back. ‘Right.’ He turns back to the console.

‘Okay,’ he comes to a decision. ‘I have to pick someone up anyway. We will land and you can make the replacements while I retrieve him.’ You’re wondering to yourself who this ‘him’ is when Mando spins back around, you jump a little. His voice is fierce. ‘But if you mess up my ship, I will leave you on the most backwater planet I can find. And Mandalorians have extensive nav maps.’

He turns.

Mandalorians? Hm.

--

The sense of relief felt at seeing the child Grogu again is still thrilling to the buttoned up Mandalorian. The kid is cooing in Peli’s embrace, who in turn chatters away. But the moment he clocks Din walking toward him, the child reaches up and – whoosh – is in his arms again.

‘Hi Grogu,’ Din’s smiling behind the mask, ‘were you good?’

‘Total angel!’ Peli shouts. ‘Bye baby!’

When he returns to the ship an hour later, with provisions and a babbling kid, he’s expecting to see you fumbling around an input hatch. But you’re nowhere to be seen.

Din turns to his son. ‘Grogu, there is a person on the ship. I am confident she is no threat to us, so do not worry, but please play nice.’

The baby squints and blows a mischievous little raspberry. Din sighs, oh well.

But where were you? Hells, if he’s lost her already…

He scans the hatches that house the blast corners; they are all neatly clipped in place. Even the one that had always stuck out a bit and would rattle in dodgy atmo entry was sealed flush against the hull.

He frowns. 

On entering the ship, he hears the quiet hiss of the fresher. She’s helped herself to his amenities? Damn Maker, he thinks. His resentment lessens considerably though when he drops into his cockpit chair, the child wandering up behind him, and engages the test switch for the blasts. The light flips on instantly. The diagnostic scans green. The diagnostic never scans green.

He’s staring so hard at the panel that your bright ‘Hey!’ from behind makes him jolt.

You’re pulling damp hair into a loose side braid, strolling into his space.

‘Sorry, that was oily work and I figured a wash up was a fair trade,’ you’re saying. You seem like you’ll go on but you trail off when you spot Grogu, who for his part is giving you his most doe-like, glossy-eyed stare. ‘Hi there…’

But Din’s distracted. She’d changed all four corners with enough time to spare for a jet stream? And they were responding better than they ever had? In the whole time he’s owned the Crest?

‘Woooo, hahaha, oh wow you’re a cutie!’

Your voice brings him back to himself and he’s stunned again to see you kneeling by Grogu, the both of you laughing and playful as you swing the bottom of your braid while he tries to catch it. The kid’s giggling. 

Grogu catches your braid, you let him, and toys at it tentatively, cooing away. You look up at Din, smiling.

‘This who you had to pick up?’

‘Yes,’ Din barely gets the words out. ‘This is my son, Grogu.’

You look back to the gremlin who has your hair. ‘Hi Grogu, charming name you have.’

Grogu looks up at you with a happy ‘ahh!’ and drops your braid.

Din doesn’t know how to feel about any of this.

The innocuous little light blips in his palm. He glares at the fob while an internal battle rages. It is a bad idea, but Din knows in his gut he probably won’t get a better opportunity than this one. A huge bounty so elusive he’d been carrying the damn – infuriatingly silent – fob with him for an age.

Now here it was, blinking to life. He looks over at you.

You’re snoozing in the flight chair, elbow crooked on the arm rest and knees tucked in. He’s remained perplexed by how at home you’ve looked on his ship. Not only that, you’re a savant with the thing. You’d made good on adjusting the exit power flow already, and the Crest was practically singing for it.

You’re nothing like what he was expecting. But you were still a job he had to finish. No question there. 

This bounty though… 

As if sensing his fitful inner conflict, you stir. Rolling your head up and rubbing sleep from your eyes, you hum to yourself.

‘Mm, hey, sorry. Didn’t mean to doze off there,’ you say, sitting straight. You take in the ship’s stationary mooring, systems in standby. ‘Where are we?’

‘Nowhere special,’ he says. ‘But…’ 

You clock the blinking fob he’s holding. ‘Ooh, that a job?’ 

You seem… all lit up by it, Din thinks. Worlds but you are strange.  

Without any real fight left, the war inside him ebbs and he gives in to the pull.

‘It is, a big one,’ he holds out the fob. ‘It’s not far from here, and should not take me long. I will lock down the ship; you will be completely safe.’ 

You sit forward. ‘I could come with,’ you say, eagerness in your voice.

‘Absolutely not!’ He stands, scandalised by the idea. ‘You will stay here, in the cockpit, until I return.’

He may have laced his tone with too much menace, because you lean back in the chair and drop your gaze. 

Regretting it, he sighs and drops back into his flight seat, turning to the controls. ‘Your safety is more important,’ he whispers. You stay quiet on the descent and landing.

It’s only when Din summons Grogu to his side as he readies that you speak up.

‘You’re taking him?’ you exclaim. ‘Your kid?’

‘He is in training,’ Din says, offering no further explanation. Grogu, for his part, wanders over to you, babbling away. He reaches up and touches your knee; you lean down and scratch his ear, mumbling something like ‘keep him out of trouble then, hm?’

Din takes in the scene, something pricking at his chest.

‘Grogu, let’s go.’ He turns and knows the child will follow.

Just this job, he tells himself. Then he’ll take her home.

- - 

Listening to the whir and grind of so many locking mechanisms engage and clunk into place settles a weary sense of dread over you. You’ve been here before, stripped of volition and made to stay in place.

You decide to be bored and restless instead of anxious and afraid.

Looking about the tiny space, your eyes land on the code pad by the door. You’d noticed the release switch catches a little, and Mando has to jab at it twice or thrice each time it’s used. You can fix that.

Casting about, you find a little stash of tools under Mando’s seat. Perfect.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t take much time and you end up dithering a little, readjusting the light sensor as well so it actually responds to input. 

Just as you’re tucking the pad’s cover back into place, a long slick of ice slides down your spine as the ship groans. The lockdown is disengaging.

‘He can’t have been that quick,’ you say aloud. 

You move to the front of the ship and spot two gruff and burly henchmen striding toward the Crest. A glance at the ship HUD shows the ramp to the hold gliding open, lowering steadily to let the invaders inside.

‘How’d you get onto this ship,’ you spit a few minutes later, wiping a bound wrist at your bloodied lip.

Your dazed victim grunts and rolls his head from left shoulder to right. From his place crumpled against the wall, he looks over to his unconscious companion and then up at you. ‘Fuck you, bi—’

You slam onto your knees across his hips, lock your hands together and swing them across his face. Gods it hurts, you’re not usually a puncher. But your hackles are raised and you know something is badly wrong.

Lucky for your almost lacerated knuckles he gives up immediately.

Hands fly into the air. ‘It’s a trap!’ he yelps. ‘An- a- an- ambush! Cephlate knew he would come. He hates Mando. Wants- wants to end him. He’s got tech to control the ship and he’s going to lure him into—’

You hit his carotid artery and he’s lights out. Time’s up. You surge to your feet and move.

--

Everything had been going wrong since the second he’d breached the perimeter. There were more enemies than he was expecting. They had better weapons than he’d anticipated, fucking artillery. He and Grogu had worked as a team as best they could, but the forces were overwhelming.

He hadn’t even had time to zero in on that stupid fucking warlord. Hunched behind a low building, he scans the hacked layout of the base via the holo of his vambrace. He spots a building built like a bunker and, thank the Maker, underground access – a tunnel that barrels off the edge of the plans, presumably out of this hellish place.

It’s fine, he’ll get back to his ship and come back ready for war. 

‘Let’s go kid!’ He shouts and he sprints for the doors. Grogu follows, leaping from cover point to cover point.

Wrenching the doors aside just enough for the two of them to slip in, he jams a vambrace against the control pad and programs them to seal. Twisting to lean back against the wall, he surveys the room and his heart stops. He swears he is hallucinating.

Din stalks forward and leans over the rack of servers.

‘What are you doing here?’ he hisses at you, crouched as you are by an open panel bristling with cables and blinking lights. You’re holding some complicated looking motherbank. ‘I told you to stay on the ship.’

You take a handful of wires and reef them from the bank.

‘Yeah, well,’ you say, not looking up. ‘Couple uninvited guests dropped in and told me about this.’ You shake the device in his visored face.

‘Uninvited what?’ He checks behind him, unholsters his blaster. 

‘Guests. Couple of your quarry dearest’s goons.’

Din is speechless, then, ‘How’d they get inside the Crest? Ground security was active.’ A massive boom rings against the sealed doors.

‘Because of this.’ You shake the object again, pulling a tiny pair of pliers – his pliers? – from a pocket and poking inside it.

‘What—’

‘Traction lock. Writ large. And I mean large. Look at this place.’ You wave a hand around. ‘Could take total control of like, an Imperial battleship with this setup.’ 

Din’s in shock, barely taking anything in. Who are you? He gives himself a shake and snaps back into focus, looking at their surroundings and assessing the best way to deal with the incoming ambush.

‘I’m decoupling your ship’s code from his systems,’ you’re saying. ‘Although it would go a lot quicker if,’ you raise your bound wrists. He notices them for the first time and leans down to cut them free. 

‘Hss, thank you,’ you say, going back to work and taking a few more moments before dropping the messy bundle of tech to stand.

‘Done,’ you chirp.

‘How did your hands end up…’ Din gestures.

‘Bit of a story on my way in,’ you say. ‘These guys have the weirdest weapons—’ You’re cut off.

- -

The doors separate and the room erupts in screaming red. You gasp as you’re picked up and flung against the wall. A heaviness lands on your chest and your vision is obscured by black and chrome crowding you in. You take in what’s happening. 

His body shields you from the pulse probe that had just been tossed into the room. His torso is flush to yours. The helmet tilts up and bumps the crown of your head. You’re completely covered by his broad form. As the pulse fades, boots thunder on the deck toward the opening. For one, barely there fraction of a second, your hips press together as he abruptly shifts and hefts you back behind the bank of servers. 

‘Stay down!’ His command sears across every point your bodies had made contact. He moves toward the formation approaching and becomes a force of nature again.

Hands free and blood singing, you think fuck it. You emerge and survey the scene, taking full advantage of the squad failing to consider you part of the fight. You spin between two while they’re focused on your escort and let fly a flurry of interjections into their joints and airways. One yelps and falls to the side, clawing at his neck. The other fares better, but only until you reef his own blaster in his hands, surprising him with his own momentum, forcing it into the open patch below his helmet and firing.

Dropping the weapon and his limp hands, you convert to a crouch and kick out. With toes pointed and bright, two sets of knees twitch the wrong way and the owners give startled shouts as your fingers find homes in significant places.

A rough hand grabs your tender wrist and you cry out. The shock lets the attacker tug you toward him, fist raised to ram into your face. You barely get your feet under yourself to duck. The swing still manages to brush by your ear, causing a burst of pain. But he’s already let his momentum carry him too far and you yank your seized wrist down so he loses centre. You get your shoulders into his groin and straighten in a rush. He topples over you and lands at a very unfortunate angle on his neck. He stills.

You whirl and register the fight is over. Mando’s whipcord snaps back into place at his wrist and he holsters a pistol slowly, shoulders rising and falling only a little. Seven other bodies surround the still and watchful figure. 

‘Five against one, huh?’ he echoes you from your first meeting.

You can only shrug.

He saunters toward you. ‘Where did you learn to do that?’

Another shrug. Man, that must be annoying. ‘Woman of mystery. Cards close to the chest. All that,’ you say.

Mando regards you. ‘Hm. I would be interested to know just how many cards you hold there to be honest.’

Would he now.

You’re about to lobby a smartass remark in deflection when his hand rises to your face. You resist the urge to jolt back, letting his palm move to hover within an inch of you. It holds there, making no move to turn into actual touch. Still making your lungs fizzle though.

‘You’re hurt,’ he says. You realise he means your injured mouth.

‘It’s nothing,’ you squeak, cringing at yourself. ‘More story for later. Seriously, I’m fine.’ You think you’re staring into his eyes, as he stares back, but hell if you could really know. He breaks away first and you exhale.

‘Time to go,’ he says, moving to the open grate you had climbed through earlier. The three of you drop into the access tunnels and move out.

--

Prev | Next

[ohjustkreat]

Closing The Distance

A Shuri x Riri Fanfic

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

A/N: Well hello!!!! Chapter 20 is finally here. 20 chapters and almost a year later, I truly have no words. Thank you to everyone that has read this story. I’m beyond grateful.

As always,

Enjoy,

Kreat

Table of Contents

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

Chapter 20

The next day, a new energy was prominent in the air. Riri was currently configuring the last few things on the prototype, or the I-SPY as Riri had come to name it. Carefully, she made the last adjustments and looked proudly over her work. After a moment she stepped back and exhaled, "Now, for the moment of truth."

Pressing one of three buttons on the small device, she saw it flash a light purple signaling it was powered on. Next, she turned on a monitor that bad been linked to the small device. Moments later, she recognized her face as it appeared on the larger monitor. Continuing her testing, Riri picked up a sleek black, remote controller. Pushing one of the switches upwards, the small device began to roll forward. Getting lost in her creation, she didn't notice Shuri who had stopped at the top of the stairs and was watching her.

"Having fun?' Shuri questioned, startling the other woman.

Riri jumped up, almost dropping the remote controller. "Oh, uh, sorry I was just testing the device. Look at this!" Riri said as her nerves calmed and excitement replaced them.

Shuri watched as the device rolled along the floor, evenetually making it's way over to her. Soon it was her face that had been plastered among the monitor.

'If you two are done here, then it would be helpful if you could offer your services." A voice sounded from the top of the lab, at the doorway, belonging to none other than Nakia.

“Greetings, while you two were busy playing with your toys, I was actually doing real work.”

“Not. A. Toy.” Riri said through gritted teeth. “This,” Riri said as she waved one hand under the device, showing it off, “is the I-SPY. Hopefully this little guy can get us a drop.”

Nakia stopped and took a moment to examine the small device from afar.

“Cute.” Nakia said as she started to descend the stairs. “Anyways, I just came across some information I thought you might want to hear.”

Her banter filled face regretfully turned to a small frown.

“Well?” Shuri questioned , eyes wide as she awaited her answer. Her questioning, being only for the sake of details. Shuri had seen the look before, numerous times actually. And all she could do is brace herself for the dreaded news that would follow.

“ I was doing some intel last night and what I found was shocking to say the least. It’s not good to say the least.” Nakia said, with a tablet now in her hands. After a few minutes of touching the screen, numerous documents started to appear above the group’s head. The holographic images showed financial documents, messages, and a plethora of other documents.

“Tell me they aren-“ Riri’s voice questioned among the growing tension.

“Yes, it seems they’ve been secretly dealing arms, specifically small amounts of vibranium to other countries without our knowledge. Knowing Shuri wouldn’t stand for such a thing, well…” Nakia’s voice trailed off as she made eye contact with Shuri, who was standing silent. From previous experience Nakia knew this wasn’t a good thing.

“Where’s M’baku? Does he know?” Shuri questioned as she began to pace her lab’s floors. The thoughts looming in her head would have pushed any other person into a stage of panic. Yet, Shuri was only fueling her rage into a plan of action. At times like this, she couldn’t afford to be selfish and fall to her emotions.

“I spoke with him briefly. He had his suspicions something else was going on that they didn’t want him to know about. From what I can tell, Shuri, they expected him to be more passive than previous rulers.” Nakia spoke carefully, trying her best not to enrage the other woman even more.

Riri approached Shuri, attempting to pull her out of the daze she was in. Placing one hand on the small of the back, she used the other to stroke the side of the taller woman’s face. Instinctively, Shuri relaxed under Riri’s touch. Her eyes fell shut as she exhaled.

“Breathe, baby. Look at me.” Riri hallowed as she coaxed Shuri back to reality.

A few moments passed until Riri saw the ever timeless sight of Shuri’s deep chestnut eyes.

Slowly she saw the flames of rage diminish to embers.

“I’m okay.” Shuri said as she pulled the smaller girl in for a short hug.

“Ahem.” Nakia fake cleared her throat. She grinned at how attached the two had come in such a short time.

At the sound, the couple were jerked out of their world and back into reality. Shuri let Riri go as she finished composing herself. Riri could almost see the wheels turning in Shuri's head. Whatever Shuri was plotting, Riri would do nothing other than support her.

"Hm, GRIOT."

"Yes, Shuri?"

"Contact M'baku, as well as the Dora Milaje and have them meet me here immediately."

"Right away, Shuri." GRIOT responded.

"The situation just went from bad to worse." Shuri looked into the distance, as the weight of her world fell back onto her shoulders.

'Shuri, what should I do?" Nakia questioned.

Shuri looked to Riri then back to Nakia before continuing, "Riri, love, can you give us a moment?"

"Of course. I'm gonna go and tinker with something." Riri muttled off as she left them to talk. She settled in front of a monitor on the far side of the room and inserted her headphones, assuring their privacy.

"Shuri, this is much worse than I thought. They sure covered their asses with this one. There's almost no way to know who they sold them to."

"I know. We need a new plan. But first, I need a list of everyone possibly working with the elders. They aren't capable enough to carry this out themselves."

"On it. I'll be back shortly. I already had a few names, but ,ah, you can never be thorough enough." Nakia turned to leave, but stopped and looked over her shoulder at Shuri. "And before you start being too hard on yourself, you couldn't have prevented this. You did not know." With that she turned and started to ascend the staircase and exited the lab.

Shuri was left grappling with herself. Fighting the parts of her that felt she could have done more. Been more aware, more in tune with what was going on in her kingdom. She would be the first to admit her recent break had been needed, but like all things her time for self reflection and healing had come met its dilemma. The sound of the doors open and a familar voice greeting Nakia pulled Shuri from her thoughts. M'baku had arrived.

'Perfect timing.' Shuri thought to herself as she watched M'baku stalk down the stairs. His mountainous figure coming closer into their view.

A grin crept upon his face before he spoke, "Little panther," M'baku began as he landed at the bottome of the stairs, "I see we have much to talk about."

"Yes, we do. One moment." Shuri excused herself before going to retrieve Riri, who appeared to be entranced in whatever technology she was working on. Shuri lighty grabbed her shoudler and was met with soft brown eyes and a slight smile.

"Hey, you guys done already?" Riri questioned as she got up and entangled herself in Shuri's arms. As much as Riri needed to feel Shuri, she knew Shuri needed it more. No matter how well she carried herself, Riri knew what Shuri really was feeling. Which was anxious and scared. But she also knew that Shuri couldn’t be forced. More so, in Riri’s mind, Shuri was a force all in herself. PpRiri knew to wait and not push Shuri; she would come to her when she was ready.

"Yes, love, we are. Come on." Shuri ushered them back towards where M'baku had settled at the large table in the center of the room.

"So, I see Nakia has shared her findings with you?" M'baku questioned.

"Yes and as you can see it is much worse than we could have ever thought." Shuri replied.

"Any idea on where to start?" Riri chimed in.

"Not really. I've sent Nakia to go and find out more about what's been going on and who all is involved. Once we have more information, all guilty parties will answer accordingly."

"And getting the vibranium and other weapons back? How are we even going to locate them?"

"Once we get more information on the buyers, we can take the known locations of everything and see what we're left with.' Shuri took this time to look up and meet M'baku's eyes, then Riri's before contiuing, "This- this won't be easy or brief."

"I'd be concerned if things were peaceful again. It was getting a little boring. If I’m not saving everyone, what is my purpose?" M'baku sarcastically let out.

"I’m sure we’d manage." Shuri shot back.

"Aht, Aht little panther, " M'baku teased, letting his native tongue linger on the nickname, "Save your energy, you did say this was not going to be a simple task."

Shuri shot a glare at M'baku as she began to protest, but not before getting interrupted.

"Okay, you two, let it go. As you both said, we have a lot of work to do. So," Riri, paused and looked between the two, "Where do we start?"

"You can start with explaining what's going on?" A voice sounded from across the room.

The group turned to meet them. There stood Aneka and Ayo, along with Naseema and Asira.

"Ah, come over and we can get you caught up." Shuri answered.

The small group made their way over to the rest. After they were informed fully on the situation, everyone prepped for the first part of the plan. Which was placing the I-SPY technology.

"So, if everyone is ready, these" Riri, holding one of the small spheres up, " will be placed in every council member's room tonight." She proceeded to hand two to each of the members of the Dora Milaje that were present. "Remember, while they can be operated remotely, you must turn them on first, inputting the password key before starting. Our team of scientists, here, will be monitoring the activity. In shifts, 24/7. Any questions?" Riri looked at the group of warriors, and not to her surprise, no questions.

"Okay, that's it for now. I'll see you all tonight." Shuri said, relieving everyone, watching as the group dispersed.

Riri waited until the room was empty and the last lab assistant had left to approach Shuri. Walking up softly behind her, she placed her hand on Shuri's back and began softly rubbing it. "Hey, you sure you okay? I feel like your mind's been everywhere lately. Even if you don't want to talk, I'm here when you're ready."

Shuri turned to face Riri, as she took her in her arms and olaced her head atop the shorter woman's. "Thank you. And I know. This is just-" Shuri let out a heavy sigh, "Way more than I was expecting."

Riri heard the tears fighting to stay behind the walls of leadership Shuri had built. "Hey, it's okay."

She coaxed as she continued to rub the small of her back.

"It's just," Shuri paused as she collected herself, "I just wish they were here. They'd know what to do."

Riri knew who they were. And it killed her that this was a problem she couldn't fix. "Babe, look at me." Riri pleaded as she pulle away from Shuri, so she could look directly at her. "You're doing everything right. They would have been so proud of you. You're honoring them the best way you know how. By fighting for their memory and their legacy, by using what they taught you."

Shuri only nodded in response, a small smile growing on her face. “I’ve been thinking.” Shuri looked up before continuing. The small smile faded. “There’s still one person I need to talk to.”

Riri’s eyebrows quirked as she waited for Shuri to continue.

“Namor.”

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

S/N: Happy belated birthday TISHHHH!!

[digitdigitech]

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[random-introverted-blog]

Shadowheart steals Shar's powers and becomes a goddess, then turns mortal Shar into the office intern.

"I AM THE NIGHTSINGER. I AM THE LADY OF LOSS"

Beep! 🤖 "paper jam in feeder 3" 🤖

Shar spends several moments grumbling and opening compartments to the office printer before she's finally able clear the jam. The cute girl from marketing walks by and sees Shar struggling, hoping this delay doesn't mean she'll be late for their dinner date this evening.

"I am... the Dark Lady..." She has to reset her print settings now after clearing the jam due to a software glitch. She's pushing buttons on the screen. "My embrace..." she's now pressing buttons on the number pad beside the screen to adjust how many copies she needs as all as the margins of her copies. "My endless darkness..." she presses print, and the machine makes a pleasant chime and the sound of paper being pulled through the rollers and gently deposited in the tray for collection fill the air.

Beep-boop 🤖 "please replace toner!" 🤖

"Hells, I've forgotten to place an order to Barcus's emporium..." She grumbles, fearing her mistresses wrath for this oversight.

She collects all 50 copies of office paperwork and as she fans through them...

All 50 pages are pictures of her mistresses (admittedly) impressive phallus. Not a one are the important documents she needs to go over and sign off on and submit to her office manager.

"I am... I am..." Shar stammers as the shadows whirl in the room and her mistress appears beside her.

"I like that one best." The dark haired goddess says over her shoulder, pointing at one that appears to be of Shar in a pillory and fucked in front of hundreds of people.

Shar barely hears her. "This interference means I am unable to submit the trade agreements to Robertson!"

"Oh no," the goddess wags her finger "no excuses - those are due in the morning, you must submit them."

"But we are out of toner!"

"Fetch some more."

"Barcus closes shop just before my shift ends."

The goddesses hair turns white as she cradles her chin in her fingers. "...It appears there is an office depot near Waukeens Rest. They are open 24 hours, you should have no trouble acquiring the necessary supplies there. And because this is your own fault it, of course, is coming out of your wages. You all must make sacrifices in my service, after all."

"You don't pay me."

The silver goddess smirks. "Suppose that means I'll collect payment in other ways then."

As the goddess turns to depart, Shar reaches out and stops her. "Please... Mistress. A trip like that means I... I'll miss my evening date..." she all but whispers the words, an utterly pitiful look in her eyes.

The goddesses hair slowly turns dark again as she turns to face her. Grinning darkly. "What is a sacrifice if it has no meaning?"

And with that, the goddess disappears in a plume of shadowy smoke.

Shar stands there a moment. Silent. Then wails. "I AM THE LADY OF LOSS!"

"SHAR, MY COFFEE CUP IS EMPTY, I NEED MORE!" Shouts a voice from nearby.

"Yes... Office Manager Robertson...! I'll get... RIGHT on that...!" She forces out in a pleasant tone, abandoning her papers there. "My blessed darkness... MY darkness..."

All this because her chosen managed to steal Shar's place as a goddess...