#Trip Ad Visor

[adsnetwork]

Travel Ads Network

Travel advertising is a typical term for marketing aimed at the travel industry. The main goal of travel advertising is to attract travellers from both local and worldwide markets. We can advertise natural culture, resources, legacy, etc. through travel ad to enable interested individuals visit the place. Arrive advertising assists the guest in becoming accustomed to the location even before they actually travel there.

What is the major role of travel advertising? 

We are surrounded by media. Nowadays, every business uses media to sell its goods and services. Visitors, or tourists in this case, visit places and arrange their travel to more well-known spots. Advertising is unquestionably important for any business. Similar to this, the travel business needs to draw clients (tourists).

Technically, tourism is not a product. Businesses cannot offer it to their customers like they can with things since it is an intangible. Therefore, the tourism industry markets a place based on the creativity of travellers.

Based on the expectations they have developed from travel ad, the customer makes their travel arrangements. An unsuccessful advertisement might cost the travel sector money. Effective advertising will surely increase the chances of success, albeit it cannot guarantee it.

In the travel sector, advertising serves three crucial purposes:

• To arm visitors with all the knowledge they require in order to explore and comprehend a place.

• Entice visitors to a place.

• To inform guests of the address and location where all reservations must be made.

The global increase in travel enthusiasm has an effect on travel advertising as well. Many ads merely seek to boost their bottom line by promoting the purchase of their goods, services, lodging, or travel arrangements. Whatever their motivation, they should select a reputable travel advertising network if they decide to use a travel advertisement for their travelling business.

Why advertising for the travel business?

Businesses struggle to capture the attention of their target audience whenever new brands enter the market since their clients now have more options than before. You can conduct advertising for your companies, whether it be in travel or another industry, if you want to dominate the market. Average people view at least 5,000 advertisements every day, which closely correlates to the likelihood that your brand will be seen if you market them with these adverts.

Today's competitive market makes situating your tourism business more difficult, thus marketing organisations place a higher emphasis on promotional efforts. A successful advertising campaign is essential to the growth of a tourism firm.

The key components to success are creative thinking and thorough planning. If you wish to operate travel ad for your tourist firm, you can pick an efficient ad network. That is we'll introduce you to the top advertising network for your travel agency in this blog. Continue reading to learn more about ad networks first.

What is an ad network?

An ad network, which acts as a middleman between publishers and advertisers, is defined as "a massive library of ad inventory from publishers that is curated and sold to advertisers." Nearly half of all advertising spending worldwide is now spent on digital advertising, which is the preferred marketing channel for marketers. By acting as a go-between for newspapers and advertisers, an advertising network streamlines the process.

Let's talk about the ideal advertising network for your travel agency. Let's talk about selecting the greatest ad network before disclosing the ideal one for your travel company.

Finding the best advertising networks is straightforward.

Only one problem exists: there are simply too many choices. It's easy to find the best ad networks. The only problem is that there are simply too many possibilities. The fact that the ad tech industry uses a lot of jargon also doesn't help matters. What is programmatic purchasing exactly? Which of CPM and CPC should you pick? Should you pick the more recent, state-of-the-art IAB units over the older, less creative ones?

If you have not given much thought to how the internet ad tech environment functions, some of these questions may seem overwhelming.Choosing a network for your site may appear to be a challenging undertaking, but this is not always the case. The following are the only variables to consider while choosing the best ad network:

• Payment conditions and compensation.

• The calibre of the network's ads

• Amount of the advertiser network

• Compensation and payment conditions 

• The underlying technology

Best advertising network for travel ads

7SearchPPC

One of the top online travel ad networks is 7SearchPPC. This ad network primarily targets bloggers and publishers in lifestyle niches like DIY, parenting, food, travel, and home.

If you want to run ads for your company at a fair price, they are one of the best Google ad alternatives.

You can monetise your website with the help of the publisher-friendly ad network 7SearchPPC without degrading user experience. According to 7SearchPPC, they collaborate with both large and small publications of all sizes. It might be a fantastic substitute for any size business.

They provide all publishers with an alternative to Adsense and the greatest advertising platform for advertisers. If you use 7SearchPPC for your mobile advertisements, you might receive high-quality leads that will increase your company's reach and return on investment.

7SearchPPC is a cost-effective pay-per-click search engine network with outstanding performance. Compared to other PPC networks, they have the highest ROI (Return on Investment) and receive traffic from hundreds of niche websites, portals, and search engines.

How can you market your travel agency?

• Perform audience research.

• Be aware of the tastes of visitors.

• To get in touch with your desired audience, use Facebook Ads.

• You must identify a niche market for travel.

• Concentrate on growing your B2B network.

• Be active on social media sites at all times.

You can draw in your target markets to your travel firm by adhering to these guidelines.

Conclusion

For individuals looking to advertise their travel agency online, the travel ad network provides solutions. If you opt to advertise your travel agency, you can see immediate results. Since so many people now advertise their businesses online, there is intense rivalry everywhere. You must pick the best ad network if you wish to outspend your rivals through advertising.

For your travel-related ads, you can select 7SearchPPc, where you can obtain high-quality leads with a low cost of conversion. You can get in touch with them without any concern because they have more than 8 years of experience in this sector.

Travel advertising network Travel ad network Travel advertisements Ad network for tech support Travel Ad Ad Network For Travel Advertising For Travel Ppc Ad For Travel Ppc For Travel

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Hotter Than Texas | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: I'm so excited that y'all loved the first part! Thanks for your enthusiasm, you rock <3

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

WC: 2000+

Part I | Masterlist

“I’m getting hungry.”

Bradley glances at the restaurant sign as he passes it on the interstate, suppressing a sigh. He usually skips lunch on long trips so he can arrive at his destination before nightfall. “I’ll get off at the next exit,” he says.

“Will you?” you exclaim excitedly, as though he’s offered to catch and cook your next meal himself.

Bradley chuckles mildly. “Well, I’m not going to let you starve.”

“You’re so sweet,” you reply, and Bradley eyes you with a grin because he’s about eighty percent certain you’re being facetious.

“What’re are you in the mood for?” he asks as he gets on the off-ramp.

“Something greasy and very bad for my heart.”

Bradley lets out a small laugh. What’s bad for his heart is you sitting next to him being all cute for the next twenty hours straight.

He pulls into the lot of a little diner just off the highway and parks his car while you flip down your sun visor to glance at your reflection in the mirror. “How do I look?” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

Bradley tries not to examine you directly and instead just glances in your vicinity. “Better than the truckers, I bet,” he comments, noticing the row of semis at the back of the lot.

You give him an unimpressed look and then push open your door. “I sure hope they have French toast.”

“I thought you wanted something greasy,” Bradley says, walking around the front of the Bronco to join you.

“I want options,” you state, marching forth toward the front doors.

Bradley strides ahead and pulls the door open for you. He can’t say he isn’t looking forward to having a sit-down meal with you, like it’s a date or something. And, as much as he hates to admit it, he’s almost thrilled at the prospect of the other patrons assuming the two of you are a couple.

You walk through the open door and Bradley stalls for a moment, trying to clear his head. He shouldn’t even be thinking about that sort of nonsense. He and Hangman have enough issues without adding Bradley’s crush on his baby sister to the mix. They’ve just begun to mend their bumpy – to say the least – relationship, and Jake would sure as shit not appreciate his colleague developing feelings for his younger sibling.

“You comin’, sugar?” you call from inside.

Bradley, who’s clearly taken too long of a beat, glances at you in a bit of a daze. He’s sure you just called him ‘sugar’ and that has utterly thrown him. He enters after you and gives the hostess a look that he hopes might resemble a polite smile. But his face feels hot and numb at the same time, so he can’t be sure.

…

“I think I’ll get the pancakes,” you muse, flipping through the menu leisurely.

Bradley smiles at you when you’re not looking. “Want to share some things?”

You glance up at him happily. “Can we?”

Bradley chuckles. “Why not? I could go for a pancake. What else should we get?”

Your eyes light up and you instantly refer back to the menu. “Fried pickles.”

Bradley cringes but he’s still amused. “Those’ll go great with the pancakes.”

“I agree,” you respond without a hint of sarcasm. “Chili?” you continue. “Or tacos?”

“Why not both?” Bradley shrugs.

You give him a serious look. “That’s just crazy talk.”

Bradley laughs. “You’re right, what was I thinking?”

“I sort of want some pie, though.”

Bradley closes his menu and leans forward into the table. “I’ve already thought of that,” he mutters under his breath, as though he’s about to divulge a secret. You lean in too, your bright eyes blinking up at him eagerly. “We’ll get one for the road,” he whispers.

You gasp. “You’re a genius!”

Bradley chuckles, leaning back in his seat proudly. “I won’t deny that.”

…

When the server arrives to take your orders, you let Bradley do the talking, but chime in with little requests now and again; onions on the home fries, maple syrup for the bacon, sour cream in the chili. And Bradley can’t help but delight in the fact that, every time you think of something, you tap his hand that's resting on the table, ‘oohing’ with excitement.

Bradley eyes you with a smile once the server departs. “Maple syrup for the bacon?”

You wave a hand at him. “You’ll see.”

Bradley shakes his head with a smirk. “Not on my bacon.”

“Yeah, my brother warned me that you’re a bit of a square.”

Bradley raises his eyebrows and scoffs. “Your brother said what?”

You grin at him mischievously. “Don’t worry, I can make up my own mind.”

“Your brother warned me that you’re a bully,” Bradley replies, his smile only getting wider. “And, coming from Hangman, that’s saying something.”

You let out a peal of laughter so exuberant that several faces turn to look in your direction.

“Don’t worry,” he adds when your laughter partially subsides. “I can make up my own mind.”

“And?” you ask with soaring eyebrows. “Have you?”

Bradley hesitates for a moment and then decides to respond in a cheeky manner to avoid any awkwardness. “Not just yet,” he says with a chuckle.

You reach out and lightly smack his forearm. “Stop!”

“I’m joking,” Bradley concedes, grabbing your hand before you can strike him again. “It’s not like you’ve ever hit me to get your way,” he says pointedly.

You shake your head with a smirk and withdraw your hand.

…

“Everything was delicious,” you gush to the waitress as she clears the table. “We had such a wonderful time!”

“Glad to hear that, dear,” the waitress gives you a smile and then winks at Bradley, as though she’s in on some scheme with him.

Bradley furrows his eyebrows in amusement as she walks away and then digs into his pocket for his wallet. “My treat,” he says when you reach for your purse.

“No way!” you exclaim. “You’re already giving me a ride. The least I could do is feed you.”

“You don’t have to do anything. I’m happy to be your ride.”

“I insist,” you declare.

“I insist harder,” Bradley presses, laying down several bills onto the receipt tray.

You gaze at him pensively and finally slide your wallet back into your purse. “So, you’re stubborn,” you note.

“So, you’re observant,” he remarks.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Thanks for lunch, Rooster.”

…

Back on the road, you offer Bradley a turn with the radio, muttering something about not wanting to be a bully by hogging the music. He can tell you’ve said it in jest, but he still wants to make sure he hasn’t offended you.

“You know I don’t think you’re a bully, right?” he says, glancing between your face and the road several times.

You eye him playfully. “Well, give it a minute.”

Bradley chuckles. “It’s getting dark,” he notes after a little while. He was hoping to get farther on the first day, but the prospect of maybe spending an extra day with you on the road doesn’t seem nearly as daunting as it might have in the morning. “Want to stop for the night?”

“I can drive if you want,” you offer.

Naturally, Bradley overthinks your response. He wonders if maybe you’ve had enough of him and would prefer to get to Texas as soon as possible. “No, no,” he responds. “I can drive. I just thought you might be tired.”

“From sitting?” you quip.

Bradley gives you a flat look. “It’s been a long day.”

You shrug. “It flew by.”

That sets his mind at ease somewhat. A day doesn’t fly by unless you’re having a good time. “I think we should stop,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond, “let’s stop.”

…

“You two lovebirds want the mountain or city view?” the hotel’s front desk clerk enquires with a beam.

Bradley is about to explain that the two of you will, in fact, require separate rooms because you are the absolute opposite of lovebirds, when you respond with, “Mountain, please.”

The clerk hands you a key and Bradley follows you down the hall mutely, with both of your suitcases in tow. He’s not about to dispute your decision to share a room, despite knowing that it’s exactly what he swore he’d avoid doing the moment he laid eyes on you.

You open the door and enter, holding it open for Bradley so that he can bring in the luggage. He sets it down gingerly by the door and straightens his back to look around. The are two double beds against the wall and a large window with a spectacular view of the Santa Catalina range.

You flop down on one of the beds with a contented sigh. “You know what, darlin’? I am tired.”

Bradley watches you climb further up the bed and rest your head on one of the pillows. He’s used to you calling him all sorts of terms of endearment at this point, but it still warms his heart each and every time you do. “No dinner tonight, sweetheart?” he responds, adopting your speaking style on a trial basis.

You lift your head from the pillow. “Let’s just order in?”

You seem unfazed by the fact that Bradley just called you sweetheart. Meanwhile, he’s nearly thrown up from the anxiety it’s caused him. He resolves not to call you that – or any other overly-friendly name – ever again. “Yeah, we can do that,” he responds casually. “Pizza?”

You nod. “With barbeque chicken.”

“You got it.”

…

“Did you always want to be an aviator?” you ask, taking a bit of pizza while dusting crumbs off the bedspread.

The two of you are sitting cross-legged atop one of the beds with the open pizza box between you. Bradley grabs another slice. “Pretty much.” He doesn’t really want to get into specifics, because that means being vulnerable, a state which Bradley does not much enjoy.

“Interesting.”

“What about you?” he asks. “What are you studying?”

“Math.”

Bradley nearly chokes. For some reason, he expected something less cerebral. “Are you going to be an accountant, or something?” he asks with a smirk.

You frown slightly. “I sure hope not.”

“Well, what do you want to be?”

“A good person,” you respond thoughtfully.

Bradley lowers his pizza and stares at you. “You are a good person,” he says hoarsely.

You shrug. “I have my days.”

“I mean, I don’t know you very well,” Bradley reasons. “But you seem great. Much better than your brother.”

You laugh and lower your gaze. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” you say warmly.

Bradley can feel his heart pounding like a double bass drum. The only sweetheart in this room is you and he can hardly keep that to himself. To think that you might be doubting your own integrity is affecting Bradley on a near-physical level. “You’re a good person. Anybody who tells you otherwise is an idiot,” he states.

You smile, still looking downward. “Thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

You place your half-eaten slice of pizza back into the box and fall back into the pillows, sighing dramatically. “I’m stuffed!”

Bradley, who’s just taken his final bite, mutters around the crust in his mouth. “Me too.” He closes the pizza box and picks it up to set it onto the floor by the bed. Then, he moves to the other bed and lies down on his back with a weary exhale.

“Hey, Rooster,” you call from your bed.

“Hmm?”

“Are you a good pilot?”

Bradley turns onto his side to face you. “I think so.”

“My brother said you were just alright,” you say.

Bradley snorts and throws a pillow at you. You laugh and then stuff the pillow in between your knees. “Joke’s on you, I’m keeping this.”

Bradley adjusts his second pillow under his head and mutters, “You’re welcome.”

“Tomorrow you can choose what you want to listen to,” you say.

Bradley chuckles. What he wants to listen to more than anything is probably you.

“Hey, Rooster,” you say quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Is there any pie left?”

Read Part 3

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments shortly!

@joaquinwhorres

@katiemcrae

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@toomuchfluffs

@wintercap89

@lonelywitchv2

@callsign-jupiter

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@avengers-fixation

[st7rnioioss]

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ rainy days

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: nothing, kissing, swearing

a/n: hellooo. so so so sorry for not posting anything, i was on a school trip to rome for a week! brewed this up super quickly, sorry if you can tell it hurried lmao. I LOVE YOUUU ALL

་༘࿐˚⋆ it had been raining constantly the whole day. the gentle patter of rain on the windows created a cozy atmosphere, the dark clouds outside only adding to the feeling of a huge embrace.

most people would find this weather boring or sad, unable to open the windows, or go outside, almost isolating themselves from the outside and social world. opposite to you, you loved this type of weather. being able to allow yourself to snuggle up inside on either your couch or shared bed with matt, you were far from complaining about anything.

་༘࿐˚⋆ your past week had been frantic to say the least. on top of that it felt like it was never coming to a stop. taking extra shifts, having your amount of rude customers tripled, and your meetings seeming endless. there was nothing more you wanted than going home to your boyfriend and waste away the weekend in each other's arms.

you left the sliding doors to your workplace, running to your car to avoid getting too drenched in the hectic weather. you slouched down in the driver's seat, immediately closing the door before unbuttoning your blazer to throw it in the passenger seat beside you.

it took you a second before you turned on the car, checking to see if any mascara had been smudged, using the tiny mirror in the sun visor of your car. the drive home wasn’t too bad. your shift had ended late, so the traffic in boston was bearable, but of course not one hundred percent avoidable due to it being a Friday night.

when you arrived in your driveway you didn’t waste a second to grab your blazer and bag, running inside again to avoid the rain soaking you. the door swung open, closing behind you as you entered the hall. 

“matt, I’m home! finally,” you yelled, taking off your heels, steadying yourself by grabbing onto the wall.  in a matter of a few seconds, matt entered the hall with a blanket wrapped around him.

for a second you just stared at each other, your tired-looking face instantly lighting up into a toothy grin. matt had never looked this cozy or huggable. “hi. sorry, i feel asleep, i look like a mess.” matt mumbled, his voice a little deeper than normally, probably due to his current state. 

you didn’t answer him because deep down you didn’t mind at all. he looked so adorable. taking a few steps forward you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a tight hug.

“god, i’ve missed you so much,” you whispered into his neck, not planning to let go of him anytime soon.

“what do you mean, i literally saw you this morning?” matt chuckled, fisting his blanket to wrap it around the both of you.

“yeah, but my week has never been this packed. i feel like i haven’t seen you for weeks,” you smile back, even though he couldn’t see it, closing your eyes as you immediately got comfortable from just his touch and presence.

slowly, matt made his way backwards into the living room, careful not to hit any interior, still having his arms and blanket around you.

“don’t worry one bit about it. at least we have the whole weekend to spend together, and then we’ll pray next week is a little different,” matt laughed at his emphasis on ‘pray’, gently removing his arms from around your shoulders to let you sit on the couch.

you collapsed on the couch, immediately throwing your head back in pure exhaustion.

“plus, it’s raining.” matt smiled excitedly, allowing himself to lay his head into your lap. 

you couldn’t hold back your smile, his pure excitement from rain making you blush.

“oh god, i love you so much, matt. but don’t get too comfortable, i need to get out of this skirt.” you giggled, holding onto matt’s jaw as he got up with a fake pout, eliciting a laugh from the both of you.

“and- and then chris said i was pining for you, telling me to stop bitching and whining. so then i went home again and fell asleep. and with god’s grace, you walked into the hall,” matt continued to talk about his day, sitting next to you on the couch.

the rain was still pouring outside. occasionally there would be a thunder or lightning strike, but it only added to the atmosphere. not that weather like this was enjoyable, but both you and matt found it extremely comforting.

“seriously? what the fuck, you went to chris’s place to talk about me?” you laughed, taking another sip of your cup of tea.

you were wearing matt’s pajamas since he refused to let you use your own, a huge, heavy blanket resting around you as you and matt continued on with your conversation.

matt just nodded, taking another sip from his cup to hide his reddening face. there was silence for a bit, but it was comfortable.

 it didn’t last too long, because in the matter of a second, matt was sprawled out on top of you, making you laugh loudly, attempting to push him off of you but still being gentle with your pushing and kicking.

the night ended cuddled up in your shared bed, the curtains shut but the moonlight shining palely through it. one of your hands were under the covers, holding matt’s, the other resting on his cheek. the storm outside seemed to be endless since you could still hear the comforting patter on the windows.

“i love the rain,” you randomly whisper, brushing a few strands of hair out of matt’s eyes with a smile. he smiled back, pecking your forehead with adoration.

“me too. it’s definitely my favorite type of weather, no doubt.” matt whispered back, still playing with your hair.

you nod, shuffling a bit around to get comfortable under the thick covers, but luckily you weren’t too hot or too cold. matt made sure to hold tightly onto your hand, holding you as if you were gonna slip out of his grip.

“but, i love my boyfriend even more,” you said in a sing-song voice, giggling at his face, attempting to look very confused.

“ohh. i wonder who that could be. i haven’t seen you around with a lot of guys recently?” he tried to hold back a laugh, tapping his chin as if he was deeply philosophizing.

you let out a laugh, making matt drop his act to join in on your laughter. he pulled you even closer, if possible, letting you rest your head into his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head.

safe to say, you fell asleep comfortably. nothing but silence, except matt and your’s silent snoring and of course, the rain. it was days like this that made up to your week if it had been tough. tea, rain, blankets, boyfriend, movies, cuddles and kisses.

a/n: ughh when is it fall again? i need itttttt

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lillies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn @sturniolololover @domaniquessidehoe @sturniolossss @orangelala @sturnioloslvtt@gwenloremain@k-l-a-w-s @pearlzier @pjmpcyy @mbsbaby

[kyberblade]

Just Need You (Din x Reader)

A/N: Okay. This turned into waaayyyyyy more than I expected but once it started it just kept coming, and I…. I kinda love it? Like for real? These two are a mess and I’m kind of obsessed with them. (Also, thank you, Anon, for being my first Mando request and for sending a request at all! You made me happy dance, you have no idea.)

Anon asked: “Hey babes, can you do a Mando x reader where the reader is a bounty hunter and leaves the ship to complete a mission and is only supposed to be gone a few hours but they’re gone all night and Din starts to panic and the next morning they show up slightly injured sand Din completely loses it and he was so scared then feels guilty? (fluff and ANGST) (sorry this is long!)”

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

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, and Din is a warning in and of himself in this one. Typical show violence. Space swearing. Arguing? Mentions of injury, brief mention of blood, stitches. Mando’a.

Word count: 4,014 (I’m this person now, okay?)

Thank you to @fordo-kixed-rex​, @grippingbeskar​, and @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis​ for reading this over for me and letting me know I’m not crazy.

Masterlist

Xxx

“It’ll only be a few hours,” you grumbled, shoving another blaster in your belt from the weapons locker.

“Do you know anything about this planet?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a vibroblade to tuck into your boot. “I know it’s hot.” Reaching for a thermal detonator, a gloved hand came out to grab your wrist, stopping you just short, your fingers barely scraping along its surface. With a sigh you turned your head to your left to find the Mandalorian’s helmet inches from your face.

“I’m serious,” he said in a low voice, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly.

“So am I,” you whispered. “Mando, I’m fine. I’ve done this a few times.” He scoffed at your sarcastic remark, making you smirk. When he released your wrist, you grabbed the detonator, fixing it to the back of your belt. “Besides, like I said, this’ll be easy. In and out. This guy’s not particularly dangerous, just a bail jumper. Probably won’t even get a scratch.”

He grunted. “And when you come back limping, what do I get? Hmmm?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, leveling a flat glare on him. “That’s just rude.”

“What?” He asked innocently, holding his hands out to the sides. “I’m not saying he would hurt you. I’m saying you’re known to…. Trip. A lot.”

After a loaded moment where you two just stared in silence, the only sound the child ambling down the ladder from the cockpit, you turned to the ramp, grumbling, “I’m going now.”

Pulling the lever to release the ramp, you stood at the top as it lowered, feeling the wall of beskar hovering closer and closer behind you until finally the modulated voice taunted by your ear, “Good luck.”

A wave of hot air rolled up into the Crest, making Grogu scrunch his face and babble as he tried to scale his guardian's armor.

Din bent down and scooped up the child, cradling him in his arms and shaking his head as the little green ward squinted at the bright sunlight pouring in the now open hull. Bringing his visor back up to meet your gaze as you made last minute adjustments to your belt, he tilted his head to the side just slightly before he added, “You’re gonna need it.”

With a roll of your head to face back toward the unforgiving landscape, you began down the ramp, disappearing in the glare of the sun beating down on the barren tundra.

Tugging the lever to close the ship back up, the Mandalorian turned to the child in his arms as he cooed softly. Letting out a sigh, his shoulders rolling forward slightly as he still held on to the lever with one hand, he let his head fall forward toward the kid. “I know. I know, I miss her already too, little guy. But don’t worry. She’s gonna be okay.” Bringing the hand down from the lever to rest comfortingly on the child’s front, Din patted it distractedly. “And she’ll be right back.”

Xxx

A few hours had come and passed while Din worked on a handful of odd repairs around the ship. He was currently under the control panel in the cockpit, laying on his back as he fiddled with the wiring under the console. 

Grogu was playing with his ball in the copilot's chair, chittering happily about something or other. 

Looking down toward the child, Din sighed, pulling Grogu’s attention to him. “Don’t worry. She’s just running a little late. That’s all.”

The kid tilted his head as he hummed questioningly at the Mandalorian. “She’s just a little late,” Din repeated, a bit more forcefully. “That’s all.” Looking back up at the mess of wiring overhead, he stared at it absently, his voice quiet. “Don’t worry.”

Xxx

More time had passed, it was the middle of the night, and Din began to pace. There wasn’t anything left on the ship to fix to occupy his time. Well, there was, but it would take hours, and you’d be back soon, probably needing to take off as soon as possible, so he didn’t want to get tied up in that.

The kid blinked blearily from a nearby crate, watching his protector pace back and forth as he ate from a ration pack. He paused his snacking, offering a warm, “Patu!” when the Mandalorian stopped for a moment. Grogu grinned when the shiny visor turned toward him soundlessly, beginning to babble aimlessly as he reached back into the ration pack to pull out a piece to offer to his friend, extending it as far as his little arms could go.

“Thanks, kid,” Din mumbled, taking the dried whatever it was and lifting his helmet just enough to take a small bite. He hummed in satisfaction once the modulator was back in place, the child grinning like he’d solved a dire problem for a world at war.

And in a way, Din guessed he had. It offered him peace, if only for a moment. His mind found rest, some silence for a beat, long enough to get some perspective, long enough to take a breath, and tamp down the worry niggling away at him under his armor. 

It was an unfamiliar feeling to him, worry. Something he’d not really experienced until the child, and something he didn’t altogether quite understand. He’d been in worrying situations before, but this was different. It was removed from him. It was for something outside of himself, his control, and it drove him crazy. 

You drove him crazy. 

Absolutely insane.

….and he loved it.

With you gone, something was missing. Some part of him, some piece that made up the rest of him was lost, and it was like he couldn’t settle, couldn’t find any semblance of peace until you were…. Home.

He didn’t know when or how the Crest had become home, much less when you had joined that picture, but there it was.

He needed you home.

He needed you back.

He needed you….

Just needed you.

Xxx

The child was asleep in the bunk, sealed away as Din rearranged the weapons locker for probably the seventy fifth time, or something near there, it felt like. The open spots for the weapons you’d taken out yesterday glaringly obvious no matter how he rearranged things.

With another long sigh, he moved to open the ramp, and he watched as a brilliant sunrise peeked through, streaking the reflective surfaces of the Crest in shades of pink and orange.

He’d sighed enough to sail a ship across the seas on Kamino, he thought bitterly. Every huff of air an attempt to release pent up emotions, something longing in his chest, but all it did was fog up the inside of his visor. ….Which made him sigh in frustration, doing it again, and it was a whole cycle.

A figure appeared on the horizon, and his spine straightened, attention on full alert. He hoped it was you, but since it was well past when you’d said, there was no telling at this point.

The outline looked closer much faster than anticipated, and it was then he heard the hum of a speeder engine begin to whir closer. Hand going to rest on his blaster, he drew it slowly, aiming at the rapidly approaching stranger as he pressed a button on the side of his helmet to zoom in with his display.

A fog had rolled in, concealing the features of the person atop the speeder, but something in his chest began to constrict when he thought it looked a lot like you.

As the speeder swooped to a stop in front of the ramp, Din took a cautious step forward, blaster raised and aimed as he switched the safety off. 

The figure astride the vehicle hopped off, stumbling slightly before pushing themselves up using the seat of the bike for leverage, grunting as they went. Taking a few wobbling steps toward the ramp, finally the figure stepped out of the fog enough for Din to see who it was, and his throat was suddenly so dry, he could barely croak out your name.

You huffed out a breathy laugh before grimacing and grabbing your right side with your hand. “I know I’m late, but, kriff, it’s no reason to shoot me, Mando.” Moaning, you slumped with your back against the speeder, head tilted back as you winced. “Actually, go ahead. It might be better than this.” With a hiss through your teeth, you slid to the ground, landing with a plop onto the dusty earth, barely registering the rapid holstering of a blaster, the heavy footfalls of beskar quickly making their way down to you, or his hurried questions over your tight lipped groans as you were lifted from the ground.

“What’s wrong? What happened? No, kid. Get back. Go to your- kid, no.”

Opening your eyes as much as you could muster, you peeked at the kid standing at the top of the ramp, his expression drawn in concern. “I’m fine, tiny. Do what he says.” The last part of the word came out on a strangled hiss as a wave of pain jolted through you, the Mandalorian adjusting his hold under your knees and behind your back with a soft apology. 

“I must be dying. Did Mando just apologize to me?” Reaching out, you ran your hand exaggeratedly over his helmet, patting it down like it held something you’d lost. “Is this real? Am I dreaming? I’m hallucinating, aren’t I?”

“Be quiet, mesh’la,” he rumbled, setting you on the floor of the Crest before pressing a button on his vambrace to close the ramp. 

“No! No wait!” You said as strongly as you could. Reaching out you smashed the buttons on his vambrace until you found the right one, ignoring his protests, halting the ramp's upward movement. “My bag. On the speeder. The quarry…. What’s left of him….” You relaxed back onto the floor, closing your eyes.

Din shook your shoulders, making you sit up abruptly, wincing before you turned to him. “What does mesh’la mean?”

Din hesitated only a moment. “The quarry?”

You pointed at the speeder, your eyes shutting tight in pain. “He grabbed the thermal detonator. Idiot. All that I could find left of him is in that bag. I’m never using those again. The clean up isn’t worth the credits.” Turning back up to his visor with knit eyebrows, you peeked up at him. “Can we put him on ice?” You shuddered. “I don’t want to look at that bag ever again.”

Nodding, Din ran over and jumped off the ramp, grabbing your stuff off the speeder, and freezing the bag in carbonite as the ramp sealed shut behind him. You carelessly tossed your weapons to the side, mumbling about feeling heavy, so heavy….

When Din turned back from the chamber, you were slumped back against some crates, jaw hanging open limply. As he took a cautious step toward you, he realized your chest was barely moving with your shallow breaths. 

Yelling your name with no response, Din closed the last few feet left between you in seconds, sliding the last foot or so on his knees, numb to anything besides the pain in his chest at the thought of you leaving him. Not like this. 

Not today. 

No. 

“Kid!” He said determinedly, looking across your body to find Grogu already reaching out, a few inches from you. That’s all that would come out. Tilting his head to the side pleadingly, Din turned his visor back down toward your face, smoothing some hair back away from your eyes. 

Grogu understood. He always did. Putting one clawed hand on your shoulder, he closed his eyes in concentration, his already wrinkled face crinkling further. 

Din watched in amazement as color returned to your face, a dull lifeless mask having settled over it before, your eyes fluttering open as you took a deep breath.

Your eyes darted over to Din before landing on the child, wide in wonder, but you didn’t say anything. 

Reaching out, Din nudged him off of you with a gentle push of his finger. “Thanks, ad’ika.” Grogu blinked up at him in confusion. “I’ll take it from here. You rest.” Turning back to look down at you, he wagged a finger close to your face. “Don’t move.” (“Little one.”)

“Don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” you mumbled, smiling softly when he chuckled.

Getting to his feet with a quiet groan, Din got the med kit before settling back beside you. Peeling your blood soaked shirt up just enough to see the sear from the blaster shot along your side, he apologized quietly before he got to work cleaning and stitching the wound.

“You’re lucky. They just grazed you.”

“I know,” you mumbled, looking up at the ceiling of the Crest as he worked on the side of your abdomen, wincing every now and then. “Thank you. For not saying anything. I know, you warned me, I just….”

“You just….” He repeated your words back at you questioningly when you never attempted to finish the statement.

Blinking up at him a few times, you changed the subject. “You never told me what mesh’la means.”

Din just went back to sewing you up carefully, his head tilted to the side at an odd angle to see properly. Silence settled between you, and you’d accepted that’s how it would be - this was normal for him, after all - until he spoke so quietly you almost missed it.

“Beautiful.”

“Wha-”

“It means beautiful.”

Smiling softly, you winced when he pulled the thread taught. “And adi- ad- the kid? What you called him?” Stumbling over the word, you pointed to the little green face in his hammock for reference.

The Mandalorian chuckled, his voice a little louder now, but only slightly. “Little one.”

Looking at the little one, you smiled, nodding. “It fits. Speaking of,” you turned back to face your reflection in his visor. “What the hell did he do to me?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, Din paused in his work for a moment, bringing his gaze up to look at you straight on. “He’s…. Special.”

“Yeah, I’ll say,” you snorted, turning back to face the child, finding him peeking over the edge of the hammock, only from his nose up showing, and of course, his ears. Smiling, you tilted your head at him affectionately. “You could open a sideshow. Make some nice credits between quarry’s.”

“You sound like Peli,” Din grumbled. 

“Hey, that woman has wisdom, you should listen to her.” You held up a finger while speaking, sitting up straighter, only to collapse in on yourself as Din tugged the stitches tight with a grunt and began working on them again.

Another silence settled in between you, filling the spaces between breaths with something comfortable and familiar.

“Well, Mando,” you finally decided to break it. “Have you eaten?”

“The…. The child fed me.”

You hesitated. “I…. I’m sorry?”

“Yes,” he said instead, tying off the stitches as he cleared his throat, reaching for a gauze pad to cover them. “And it’s Din.”

You blinked at him, your mind failing to keep up with the last few topics, especially still struggling with the image of the tiny baby feeding the giant beskar warrior. Amusing as it was. “I’m so lost.”

The Mandalorian stayed silent as he used some adhesive to keep the pad on your side, smoothing it down gently with a gloved hand. He fumbled in the kit for something else, but you couldn’t see, your pant leg being tugged by impossibly small green hands drawing your attention away.

The child ambled up into your lap and settled, giggling when you yelped at a sharp pain in your side. Looking down you saw the Mandalorian withdrawing a bacta shot and letting your shirt fall back down to cover it before turning your fury up toward his visor. 

“My name,” he explained simply. “It’s Din.”

“That hurt!” Your face crumpled from anger to nothing. “Wait. What?”

“You heard me,” he said tiredly, but amused, as he collected the used items and the kit, taking them back over to the corner they came from. 

“I did,” you nodded, staring at the floor. “And…. Wait. What?” Looking back over at him, you groaned as you pushed yourself up with the help of some crates at your back. 

Grogu’s hand resting on your cheek instantly relieved some of the pain, pulling your focus down to him. “That will never not be amazing,” you breathed with a smile.

Din rushed over, helping you to sit on top of the boxes you’d just used as leverage.

“Sit,” you demanded, finger pointed at him. 

With a sigh, he obliged, plopping on the crate next to you gracelessly.

“Explain.”

“When I was born, my parents had to give me a moniker-”

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

With the heaviest sigh you’d heard yet, he leaned back against the hull of the Crest. He looked so tired.

When he began speaking, it was the softest voice you’d ever heard him use, and somehow that made you pay more attention than anytime he’d yelled at you in the middle of a firefight.

“When you were gone…. I realized something.”

“….Be more cryptic. Please.” You sassed when he didn’t continue after a long moment, only raising your eyebrows at him when he rolled his visor toward you with as much attitude as you had just voiced. The kid squeaked something as his own contribution, pulling your eyes down to him, and you pointed at him, nodding in agreement before looking back at Man- Din. “Yeah!”

Din couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped as he turned his head back to look across the lower level of the Crest at nothing in particular.

“I don’t know what I would do…. If I lost you. If I really lost you.” He looked down at his hands as he fiddled with the ends of his gloves needlessly. “I’ve…. I’ve only ever felt that way about the kid, and- and I honestly don’t know what to do with this.” He looked at you again, and somehow this time you could feel his eyes on you, not just the weight of his visor. “Don’t know how.”

Holding his gaze in silence, you let his words sink in. It’s a lot to process. In reality, it’s not much, but emotionally, you need a minute. Everything you thought you knew about this man has just been turned on its head, and you just…. Need a minute. 

When you didn’t say anything, Din nodded silently, going to rise from the crate when you reached out to stop him, hand resting over his. Opening your mouth, you stared at your reflection in his visor, then turned your face to look at the floor as if it held the words you needed.

From the corner of your eye you saw Din’s shoulders deflate, roll forward in defeat, but you put a stop to that with a squeeze of his hand in yours. Weaseling your fingers into his clenched fist to open it, you threaded them with his, holding tight while you searched for the words, using the grip as an anchor while you took a leap.

“Din,” you tried, smiling at the way it felt rolling off your tongue, enjoying the way he squeezed your hand at the sound, and his breath stuttered through the modulator.

“Din,” you said more confidently, unable to shake the smile as you go on. “There is nothing I can think of that would make me happier in the entire galaxy than anything you just told me.” Pulling your eyes up toward his visor, you looked at him through your lashes, face still down towards the floor. “When I’m here, on this piece of shit ship-”

“Watch it,” Din mumbled good-naturedly.

“-I have never felt safer or more at home anywhere in my life.” Lifting your face up to him in some insane wave of courage, you squeezed his hand again. “And whether that’s as your friend, or…. Whatever,” you tucked your face into your chest for a moment to hide the smile that’s not going anywhere. “I’m just honored to get to be a part of…. This.” You gestured around the ship then between the two of you and a sleeping Grogu in your arms with your joined hands before resting them back on his knee softly. “Din,” you mumbled around another grin, unable to shake the renewed pull of your lips no matter how you tried. “I’m honored to know you.”

After staring at one another for a long moment, Din finally shook his head in amusement, gently tugging you closer by your joined hands. “Well that’s all nice, but…. I was thinking of something a little more…. Personal.”

“Oh, thank the Force,” you said in relief, letting your eyes flutter shut as he rested his forehead against yours. “Ner cyare.” (“My beloved.”)

Din pulled away slightly, tilting his head at you in question. 

You just kept grinning. “Elek, Ni jorhaa'i Mando'a.” (“Yes, I speak Mando'a.”)

Shaking his head at you, he began to chuckle. “Mir'sheb,” he mumbled. “Then why ask me all about what I said?” (“Smartass.”)

“I just wanted to see if you would tell me. You’re always so secretive.” You narrowed your eyes at him playfully. “Plus, it also seemed kind of important to you, so I didn’t want to ruin it.”

Din tilted his head to the side as he stared at you, shaking it in disbelief and amusement. “Well, way to go with that.”

The smile wasn’t going anywhere, and you didn’t mind. “I also know Huttese, Jawaese, and- oh, what else? What would you like to hear, I’ll see if I can make it happen.”

Tilting his beskar back against your soft skin, he watched as your lashes fluttered to look up at him. Despite being so close, and not truly being able to see him through the visor, he felt like you really could. And for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to hide from that feeling. 

“I just want to hear about your hunt while we get off this hellhole,” he mumbled, standing and lifting the child from your arms. Tucking him into his hammock before sealing him in, he turned back to find you standing at the ladder to the cockpit, looking at it like it’d wronged you. “What’s wrong?”

Looking up into his visor, you pouted. “I don’t think I can get up there with these stitches pulling against me the whole way up.”

“Oh, come on,” he teased, touching his forehead to yours one more time briefly simply because he could now, then turning you to face the ladder and mumbling right into your ear as he crowded in behind you. “You just got shot today, and you’re complaining about stitches?”

“I’m not complaining, it’s a genuine concern,” you mumbled, fighting another grin trying to tug up the corners of your lips.

“Well, don’t be concerned,” he lilted, taking a step closer and making you begin up the ladder with nowhere left to go but up. “I’m right behind you, the whole way. I won’t let you fall.” His voice softened as you began climbing the ladder, and true to his word, he stayed behind you, almost caging you in the whole way. “Don’t worry.”

“I can see that,” you mused, climbing up into the cockpit with a soft smile. “I’m not.”

Din brushed past you, settling into the pilot’s seat, beginning the take off sequence. “Now. Tell me about this quarry.”

You sighed, plopping into the copilot seat with a roll of your eyes. “Oh, you would not believe the chaos that started from the moment- the moment-” you held up your finger, pausing for emphasis as you closed your eyes for dramatic effect, “I was off this ship.”

Din spun in his seat to face you as the ship began to lift off, his voice smug. “Try me.”

Xxx

My everything taglist: @lam-ila​, @oliviajdjarin​, @peonyophelia​, @Itsavicf, @jxvipike​, @momc95​ What’s this?

[helix-enterprises117]

Halo Reloaded: The Spartan & The Freelancer...

In the less-than-sparkling confines of the UNSC frigate Inflexible, the ambiance was about as welcoming as a tax audit. The room's lone light flickered like it was deciding whether today was a good day to finally die, casting irregular shadows over the two figures leaning against opposite walls.

John, Master Chief to those who preferred not to get too chummy, had taken up a position that suggested casual indifference but was really just the most strategically advantageous spot in the room. Across from him, Agent Washington or "Wash" for short, seemed to mirror John's casual slouch. The title 'Agent' always felt a bit ostentatious for someone who spent his formative years tripping over his own feet.

"You know, Chief," Wash began, breaking the silence with the ease of a man used to talking to himself, "I always figured if I met a Spartan, we'd be duking it out over the last piece of pizza, not swapping war stories."

John's helmet tilted slightly—a Spartan's version of raising an eyebrow. "Pizza is a serious matter. But yeah, sharing tales from the trenches wasn't high on my list either."

Wash smirked, his tone lightening. "Glad we agree on the pizza. But seriously, being the underdog? I was practically the poster boy. My squad had a betting pool on how I'd mess up next."

John shifted, the faint whirr of his armor filling the small space. "We all start somewhere. The point is climbing up from that rock bottom. Makes standing at the top feel earned, not given."

"That's one hell of a climb though," Wash chuckled, the sound rich with irony. "My first mission was a disaster. I was known by my squad as the guy who took a grappling-gun to the balls." John’s laugh was a low rumble, almost lost beneath his armor.

"...Yeah, I specialize in the 'accidentally heroic'," Wash admitted, shrugging. "Makes life interesting, at least." John’s stance relaxed as he leaned back, the reflective visor hiding his eyes but not the thoughtful tone in his voice. "It's the unexpected victories, the ones you scrap and fight for, that stick with you. They teach more than any training drill."

"Speaking of drills," Wash mused, "ever feel like they just make up those exercises to see if we’ll actually do them?""Wouldn’t be surprised," John conceded with a grunt. "Half the time, it feels like we’re part of some grand experiment. Which, technically, we are."

Wash nodded slowly, his voice dropping a notch. "And trust... that's the hardest part. I've seen teams fall apart over less than a misfired blaster. But when you find that group, the kind you can trust with your life—"

"—It changes everything," John finished, the weight of his words felt rather than seen. "Makes a soldier into a guardian."

"Guardians with a penchant for causing trouble," Wash added with a wry grin. "Or stopping it, usually by causing more in a different direction."

John’s laugh was more pronounced this time, the sound bouncing off the metal walls. "Sounds about right. Makes for a good story, at least."

The alert from the console chirped, more a reminder of reality intruding on their brief respite. The two stood, their movements a symphony of clinks and clatters, armor meeting armor."

Guess it’s time to add another chapter to those stories," Wash said as he picked up his helmet, the lines of his face set in a determined, yet amused expression."Lead the way," John responded, a note of camaraderie in his voice as they moved toward the armory, their steps in sync. "After all, what's life without a little chaos?"

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 6 Prompt: Heat @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 995 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Barty shook his head clear and refocused on the mostly empty road ahead of him. Luckily, it wasn’t busy in the off-season. Not many were foolish enough to travel to the coast in the winter, especially in a car without heat.

The sun mocked him through a cloudless sky, bouncing absurdly cheerful light off of the hood and directly into his eyes. He fumbled for the sunglasses tucked into his visor and shoved them on his face. Relaxing a bit, he leaned back and grabbed his phone. Barty rolled the scratched-up silver case on its edge over and over on his thigh. When the screen woke up mid-spin, he glanced at it hopefully.

No notifications. Of course.

By the time he reached the signs for the Prince of Wales bridge, Barty was seriously considering a detour into the river. If he wasn’t already regretting his life choices, and there weren’t a massive green metal barrier, the decision would be so easy.

Best not to start trusting myself now.

Barty inhaled deeply as he stared at the cables rising to the outline of an enormous letter “h” that straddled M4’s six lanes. Bridges fucked with his head, especially long ones running over water like this. Movie scenes of bridges cracking open like a fresh, crisp baguette toyed with his mind.

Breathe. Just breathe.

The moment his front tires passed the shoreline to England’s soil, Barty deflated. He was one hour in and already drained physically, mentally, and emotionally. Any clarity this road trip brought him earlier was lost to him now. He just wanted to crash onto his crappy sofa and stay there. Not moving for a week sounded so bloody good, but he was expected at work tomorrow.

When the opening bars of Never Let You Go drifted through his speakers, Barty tensed again. The chorus of this one hit a little too close to home.

Suddenly, his screen lit up as his mobile buzzed against his denim-covered thigh. Evan’s face appeared on his screen and Barty jerked the wheel as he screeched to a halt on the shoulder and narrowly avoided scraping the barrier. He fumbled with his phone as his stomach lurched violently.

“Rosie?”

The other end was silent except for the steady tap tap tap of Evan’s rings against the phone he was holding. Barty knew that sound intimately, but not the tempo. Evan was agitated.

His heart beat doubled and his chest clenched in panic. This wasn’t good. He didn’t know how it could get worse, but it was about to and the dread was overwhelming.

Shite shite shite!

“Before you hang up…I’m sor-sorry I didn’t tell you about Regulus. When I realised that you were friends, I shou-should have.”

Barty’s ears thrummed with his own rapid heart beat as he strained to listen for a response. After another long silence, he released a ragged breath and added, “And I’m sorry for going after your sister yesterday. I was….that doesn’t matter. I’m sober now and I hate myself for acting like that.”

“That makes two of us.”

His heart plummeted to the floorboards. “Please don’t say that, Rosie. I swear—”

“Don’t call me that,” Evan said. His voice was flat and clipped.

“Oh, right.” A chill ran down Barty’s spine and he struggled to find the words he’d practised in case Evan actually answered one of his calls. “Evan, I—”

“Not that either.”

Barty closed his eyes and repressed the urge to beg for forgiveness. There was no hope of that in Evan’s tone. This was going to hurt, he could sense it. The hammer was already pulled back and the trigger was twitching.

“Okay. I understand.”

“Good, because we are nothing to each other,” Evan snapped cruelly. “I don’t want anything to do with you, Crouch, and if you come near my sister again—”

“I won’t!” Barty cried out, shaking with the effort to hold himself together. “Please, please don’t—”

The line went dead.

“No! No no no nonono!” He quickly tapped on Evan’s picture to call back. “Please pick up! Please, please, please.”

A robotic voice informed him that his call could not be completed as dialed. His hands trembled as he texted Evan, pleading with him. The text didn’t go through. Barty stared at his screen in disbelief.

“He-He’s…I can’t…oh fuck.”

His body crumpled against the steering wheel as a shudder rushed through him. He was numb from head to toe. The hole carved out of his chest deepened until it hit curled his vertebrae. No thoughts, no emotions.

Moving on instinct alone, Barty opened his car door, stumbled out of the road, and collapsed before he emptied his stomach. His limbs quivered beneath his weight until he flopped onto his back. He swiped at his mouth and groaned at the sharp burn that raced up his throat.

He rolled away from the open car door and forced himself to push upright. The endless expanse of the river where it joined the sea spread out before him. Barty stared unblinkingly at the waves as they lapped the shore, rhythmic and repetitive.

This is it. Rock-fucking-bottom.

A hollow laugh burst from his chest, but quickly died out. It hurt to laugh. Hell, it hurt to breathe!

He hauled himself to his feet, then stepped unsteadily toward the edge where the tall barrier ended. With slow, measured steps, he climbed the short rail and headed down the slope toward the shore. Barty studied the muddy, frigid water as his boots sank with every step into the soft soil. The height of the bridge created a terrifying vantage of the water, but from here it looked tame.

Water was cleansing, that was a common belief. A refreshing drink for a parched throat, moisture for dry skin, and the perfect conduit for soap. Standing here before a river wide enough to swallow an entire city whole was humbling.

I would only make short-lived splash.

With a short burst of adrenaline, Barty ran forward, threw his arm back, and flung his mobile into the river. It disappeared beneath the waves without a sound. No splash, no interruption.

Inconsequential.

Next Part>>>

[getlostsquidward]

Ohhhhhh requests hehe nice

Spare some alpha!claire and omega reader bit please, if it tickles the muse? I have no idea about the setting, maybe reader helps her with the campaign or miles got everyone on the island an omega to further relax during the weekend? Some sweet thing desperate to please cause if the assigned person isn't happy, miles isn't happy, and that is ... not good. And god knows Claire needs it, being a single mom running a campaign... 👀

Or something else dark, whatever comes to your mind! Have a good day!

fated

pairing: alpha!claire debella x omega!reader

a/n: hey anon! i hope i gave your request justice, my writing's a bit rusty hehe enjoyy

warnings: smut, omegaverse, alpha!claire, knotting, breeding, oral (r receiving), overstimulation, lil bit innocence kink, choking (briefly-not in a sexy way), men being assholes

summary: claire takes home with her a little more than memories from this greek island getaway.

“The rooms are named after chakras, your biorhythm is your key, get changed, settle, and let's have an afternoon by the pool before the real party begins,” Miles explains, as the wristbands glow with each of their chakras. Most of them go to their assigned rooms when he added: “...and there's a special surprise for you waiting in there. Thank me later.”

Claire and Birdie looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders, having no idea what it is this time.

Much to Claire's surprise, a very pretty present awaits her, sitting on her heels in the middle of the bed. The short frilly summer dress you're wearing compliments you very well, not to mention it's in her signature color, as is your collar engraved in the words ‘Claire's property.’

You stay with your head down low, waiting for your new owner to regard you in any way.

What a good girl.

This is, by far, the best trip Miles had organized. 

Claire closes her eyes and breathes in, letting the Greek island wind soak her stress and worries when a faint smell in the room catches her nose.

It's faint, but it's there. 

She walks into the room, taking her sun visors off, as she gets closer to where the scent is most potent — and she can feel her cock twitch when she realized it was coming from your slick.

Claire bends a little and tips your chin up with the visor, searching your eyes for something, anything. She could see the way your pupils widened just with the intense eye contact, how your pupils dilated, how your lips parted ever so slightly,  how your throat bobbed up and down as you swallowed. 

Despite the clear attraction on your part (and hers), she could feel how nervous you are. She puts her sun visor on your head backward, caressing your warmed cheeks with her knuckles. “Do you have a name, darling?”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Unlike the rest of the disruptors who have their omegas on a leash, Claire takes you by the hand, your palm cold against hers. When she refused to take the leash, she didn't miss the shy, small smile your lips painted as you thanked her.

Comments were thrown at her, saying omegas should/ be on a leash to keep them behaved, for them to be constantly reminded who they belonged to; but Claire disregarded all of them. She kept you close, patting the side of the bed, sharing the small space with her—until two of her friends decided to join her, with the blonde woman ordering all of you to move.

The three of you decided to sit one bed away from them as they chatted. You could hear the two whispering to each other how their alphas were with them, and all you could do was stare at Claire with great awe. 

You're thankful that you went to an alpha like her.

Prior to this weekend, someone had given you a brief introduction to your assigned alpha. Initially, you're scared, given all the politician stereotypes, even if she is a woman. If anything, she's the exact opposite of them all.

The more you look at her, the more you feel your heat starting to make you feel hazy — and you're worried if you're good enough for the dear governor to breed.

Lost in thought, you didn't notice the tall muscular man towering over the three of you.

“You.” He hooks a finger to your collar, choking out a gasp from you. The man looks at the tag on your collar. “Claire's, huh? Did she take care of your heat already? Want an alpha more capable of breeding you?”

You're shaking, terrified, but you can't even do anything because here, you are just breeding holes. Brought on this island to please this alpha pack, and holes don't speak. Above all, Miles himself had said: I don't care if another alpha wants to claim you other than the assigned. It's up to them to take responsibility for their property.

He grins when he sees how your lip trembles, leaning down slowly towards your nape—

And the pressure on your neck is gone, followed closely by a loud water splash.

“Do not touch what's mine, Duke. This is your only warning.” Claire stands at the edge of the pool, pointer finger sharply pointed at the man. “You'd do well to remember that.”

You're still trembling, but not because of fear anymore.

She guides you away from the pool area wordlessly, keeping your gaze trained on her hand tightly wrapped around your wrist. 

None of her friends dared to stop Claire, her rage keeping everyone at bay.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

As soon as you get to the comfort of her room, Claire all but pushes you into the bed, her chest still heaving as she straddled your middle. Her eyes are still burning, though it wasn't directed at you. She's zoning out.

Claire was just happy bragging about you to her friends, a sweet little thing that you are when Birdie's voice cut her off. “Claire...”

And then all she saw was red, because no one, not even her closest friends, can touch what's clearly fucking hers, and they should know better than to do so because she swears they will not see the light of day—

“Mistress?” 

Your small voice grounds her to this moment, reminding her that you're here, that no one had snatched you up right under her nose before she can even officially mark you as hers. No one can.

She lets you tuck a stray hair behind her ear, the faint red mark on your wrist that her grip left catching her eyes. This time, gently, she brings it to her lips. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” you say, eyes shimmering with adoration. “Thank you, mist–”

Claire's soft lips caress yours for a second before she pulls away. Her bright blue eyes stare at yours, then at your lips, and back to your eyes, and back to your lips again.

You brush your nose against hers, voice hoarse as you whisper. “Please.”

“Your lips taste good, princess. I wonder…” she trailed off, face hovering along the valley of your breast and stomach, the slightest touch of the tip of her nose trailing making you shiver. She stops at the hem of your dress, eyes never once wavering off yours. “...no, I'm sure you're as sweet as you smell.”

Without another word, she dove into your cunt like a feast, the lack of any underwear a relief to you both.

Claire's cock ached to be freed out of its confines with your sex so graciously served to her on a silver platter. A pure omega, never been touched, holes clenching around nothing as you anticipate her touch.

“Fuck me like the whore that I am, mistress!”

An untouched omega with a dirty mouth? Well.

She smirked. You will be fucked like the whore that you are, but she needs you to produce as much slick as possible, not wanting your first time to hurt — but the thought that she will be the first person to ever fuck your cunt, the way she can see how goosebumps arise on your skin at the unfamiliar sensation of someone else's hands touching and prodding on your most intimate and sensitive parts has her head clouded with stormy lust, all focused on how she can destroy you, your tight little holes, and breed you round until you can't walk.

She uses her tongue to fuck your hole, her nose so deliciously rubbing against your puffy clit. She smiles to herself with how wet you're getting, with how desperate you sound. Claire didn't take too long to bring you your orgasm, and another, and another until she deemed you ready to take her cock.

Claire looks at you fondly, caressing your cheek with the back of your hand. Your eyes are glazed over with how fucked out you were, your hair a mess, the pretty marks and bruises she painted across the canvas of your skin.

She's barely even starting.

“I'm ready, mistress. ’M ready to be filled up…” you say with adoration, nuzzling your head against her touch. 

Claire coos, “Aww, sweet baby. Are you, really? You think you can take mistress' cock? You think it will fit your tight pussy?” She then claws her swimsuit off of her, sighing as she strokes her cock. 

You swallow as you see how thick and girthy she was, and Claire sees the way fear has flashed in your eyes. “I know it's scary and I know you're thinking about how my cock will fit you, do you still want it?”

A blink and your eyes once again gloss over with lust, nodding eagerly. 

“Good girl.”

Claire wants to flip you ass up face down, but she also wants to see the tears slipping the corner of your eyes once her cock enters you so she spreads your legs once more, rubbing her length against your clit and pussy lips before aligning the tip in your tight hole.

“You ready, baby?”

Claire takes your nod as a go signal, pushing her cock inside your pussy so slowly, you could feel every inch of her filling you and stretching your walls. She doesn't miss the tear that escape your eyes as you feel the burn of your alpha finally taking your cunt. She wipes it with her thumb, singing praises to your ear. “You're doing so well, my lovely omega. This pussy was made for my cock.”

She's fully sheathed inside you, and as much as she wants to start thrusting into you, she needs to know how you're feeling. Claire was a little worried by how you'd been quiet for the past few minutes save from your little whimpers and gasps.

Before she can ask, you beat her to it. “You're so big, mistress! But I can take it, you're right, my pussy is made for you. Please fuck me, please!”

Claire's cock twitches with how desperate you are and starts ramming her dick into your hole. The scream that you let out was music to her ears, and she intends to hear a fucking orchestra.

She grunts as she feels your hips move to meet hers, your breasts beautifully bouncing with her every thrust. She palms your mounds and pinches your stiff buds, letting another whine escape your lips. Your mouth was barely closed as she fucks you, all the moans downright pornographic, and her chest swelled with pride. She spits into your mouth, and you make a show of you swallowing it, making her thrust harder, a bulge forming on your belly with how deep she is. 

“Mmm, fuck, mistress! More, please!” You clench around her cock as she hits that special spot, making your back arch from the pleasure. You've never been more addicted to this feeling, full of your beloved alpha's cock, getting fucked for the first time like a good omega deserves, like you deserve.

You ask, and Claire delivers. She kept hitting that spot in hopes of you clenching around her again, feeling her knot starting to swell. Claire's all set to shoot all her load into you, nothing but feral thoughts in her lust-filled head. You wrap your legs around her waist to keep her close, feeling your own orgasm close.

“This pretty little pussy is mine, you hear me? No one else's.”

“I'm yours...I want to be yours, mistress! Please, please! Let me cum!”

“You want to be mine, lovely girl? You want mistress to breed you?” Claire whispers, her hot breath against your ear adding more fuel to the heat between your legs. 

“Yes! Yes please, mistress. I want your pups...”

“If you want my pups, I'll have to take you home with me. You'll be by my side, forever. Would you like that?”

“I'd like nothing more, mistress.”

“Good girl. Now take all of me and cum, baby. Go on, cum for mistress.”

Like it's meant to be, you cum as your alpha says. Claire follows right after, her knot adding more stimulation to your sensitive cunt. The way her thick release fills you to the brim makes you feel like you're floating, too blissed out with the intense pleasure you've just experienced. 

You let Claire lay above you, her face nuzzling your neck. She doesn't pull out, not yet. She has to make sure not one drop of her cum is wasted.

She sighs, satisfied, as she smells her scent covering your body. She presses an open-mouthed kiss on your throat, just above the collar tag where her name is.

You wrapped your arms around her and whispered, “Thank you, mistress. That was…I don't even know how to describe it. It's beyond words,” you pause, feeling brave as you lifted her chin and stole a bashful kiss. “I'm glad you're my alpha.”

You feel her smile against your skin. “Me too, darling. Me too. Now get rest as much as you can, because I'm not done with you.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

All good things come to an end, but not what you and Claire had found with each other on this island. The two of you weren't even able to enjoy the full beauty this place had to offer as you remained cooped up in Claire's room, blessing every corner with spit, sweat, and cum.

“You ready to go home, baby?”

When she didn't hear you respond, she found you looking at distant strange people in the faraway part of the island.

Claire gently whisks your hand away, effectively leading your attention away from Miles' people burying Duke's body.

[midnightcreator12]

Time to Ramble about Clan Hamato-Verd vs. The Turtle-verse

(title a wip)

Because there WILL be a multi-chapter fic about that at some point and I like how much I can DO with the multiverse in play. And I have so much brainrot over all the lil adventures so y'all get a sneak peek!

There are no rules saying that I cant reuse canon universes that have already appeared! (Cause I'm writing the 'rules' lol) Becasue I have a VERY strong mental idea of how I want Chula to intervene with the 2003 Leo vs the Foot.

Chula actually brings no turtles on this trip. CJ is the one who tags along and they split up to go find any signs of the turtles (they're making a network to try and track down Astra and the Clones and the turtles are the most likely people to hear news about them because 'turtle luck'). CJ actually finds them first, right as Leo is being tossed into April's apartment.

CJ stays outside for most of the fight, picking off ninja who are trying to go in and overwhelm the turtles. He manages to shoot a message to Chula that he needs her NOW and dives into the fight inside about the same time as adult Casey does.

Casey questions if the kid is stealing his thing, CJ says he'll explain later and its a long story and April yells that CJ needs to get out of here and that this is too dangerous for a kid. And CJ is like 1) hell no. 2) then explain the 3 fifteen year old turtles who are very much in the thick of this fight

The fight goes on, CJ is actually doing VERY well in it (foot ninja are easier to fight than alien death machines, who knew?) And then Shredder shows up, doing his lil speech about how he's going to burn the turtles to the ground, blah, blah, blah.

Then CJ, from the front of the shop, his back to the door, says that Shredder should consider calling this attack quits and leaving while he can. And, of course, Shredder and Hun think this kid is being ridiculous, the Foot has the upper hand after all and what can this skinny little teen playing at being a hero do?

And CJ's like 'Maybe I can't take all of you-" lighting crash, dramatically revealing Chula's form towering behind Casey, light catching her visor in just the right way so you can see one, furious, glowing green eye. "But Mrs. Verd is gonna make sure none of you leave alive."

cue a massive battle montage where Chula gets to peel Shredder out of his mech suit and is more than happy to rip his tiny alien form apart while CJ covers the Splinterson's escape.

CJ takes everyone back to the Tortuga, where Leo is quickly attended to with bacta that has him making weeks of recovery in minutes. And by the time hes up and asking what happened, Chula returns, most of the blood on her armor washed away by rain but gleefully showing off the new Shredder helm that is to be added to her collection

------------------

Chula finds a sainw don and finds his dimension where his fam is not dead yet and she takes the role of prime 03 don and helps them overthrow the shredder

------------------

Chula gets a habit of collecting turtles from bad timelines that starts with her finding a Rise Universe where the Krang Invasion succeeds and the 4 turts are the last ones standing

F!Leo is knocked out by the time Chula gets there so the other three have no escape route and are just trying to protect their Leo.

Meanwhile, F!Leo goes down and his last thought is that he's going to die. Only to wake up to a younger version of him in baggy pants and a poncho grinning and telling him "Heeeeey, I'm your lil bro now! And tall, dark, and scary in the corner is your mom!"

And F!Leo is just, '....this is not how I imagined hell.'

Meanwhile, F!Donnie is just happy to be on a spaceship that ISN'T trying to kill him

(See also, Past rise kids fighting for Chula's attention with the Future Rise kids. Maybe a subplot where the past kids think maybe Chula would prefer to hang out with other adults or/and Future boys thinking she'd prefer the younger, undamaged versions. (she loves both. both past and future versions are her boys))

----------------------

In the same vein as that, Chula trying to 'adopt' turtles but they refuse.

I think CJ is actually from another dimension instead of the future so, Chula is thankfully doing a solo run when she finds CJ's home reality and find Master Leonardo, alive but not for much longer without treatment.

Chula, of course, trys to help him but he pushes her away and begs her to just let him die. He wants his brothers, he's tired, he wants to go home.

And, as much as it hurts, Chula understands on some level. So she sits with Leonardo until he dies and holds a burial ceremony for him when he does. She thinks she sees a flicker before she leaves, someone in the corner of her eye that almost looks like Leo.

She doesn't dwell on it and moves on to the next reality.

----------------------

Chula drops into the 2007 universe and finds out that Leo is off in the jungle and no one has gotten word from him in a while....she leaves the Lair and is back in about 3 hours with a very confused and screeching Leo hog-tied over her shoulder and asking, "who the hell thought separating you boys was a good idea?!"

----------------------

She meets Shredder from the 1990 movie....

She is not impressed and pretty much just bitch slaps him

---------------------

I do not really like the Bayverse movies but I like the idea of Chula meeting them and being like, "Holy hell, a set of your four that are taller than me! Now that's a new one.'

---------------------

But we also gotta posit Chula meeting other versions of herself. Maybe the Feral Chula from the non-canon crossover I did with Feral Leo. Or a Chula that never left Death Watch and ended up in the Empire's ranks. Or a Chula who grew up with both parents, or grew up with her mom on Lasan and became an Honor Guard.

Hell, Chula meeting other versions of ASTRA. An Astra who stubbornly stuck to the Jedi code and never tried to form a relationship with her Chula. An Astra who DID join her father in his slaving business. An Astra who ended up becoming a Sith. An Astra that ran away with Seena and they both became mercenaries dodging the bounty their father put on them.

--------------------

Okay, this ones a lil dark and simi inspired by a vague memory of a comic I saw ages ago. From what I remember from the comic, Splinter was a lot more abusive to the boys and was training them so they could take down the foot clan. And Leo ended up killing Splinter because Splints told Leo to kill Donnie because Donnie wasn't taking the training seriously enough/was doing poorly.

SO! In my scenario, the setup is pretty much that but they're pre-teens. Leo agrees but says he should take Donnie away from the Lair so Raph and Mikey won't interfere. Splinter is like 'Whatever, just get rid of him'

Leo takes Donnie far away from the Lair and tells him that he has to run far away or SPlinter will kill them both. Donnie does as Leo asks and Leo kills a rat on his way back, showing the blood on his blade as 'proof'

Donnie runs pretty far and collapses at one point. But his crying attracts the attention of a certain Mandalorian who's looking for the turtles of this dimension.

She, of course, goes to check on Donnie and Donnie is distrustful at first but he's also a pre-teen who has had very little to no positive attention from anyone but his brothers (and even then, only when they were sure Splinter wasn't able to hear/see them)

And Chula asks if Donnie wants to stay with her (assuming that he's alone) and he begs her to take his brothers with her too.

She agrees, now very confused as to whats happening. Donnie is clearly in bad shape, do these turtles just not have a Splinter? And if that's the case, why is Donnie alone?

But Donnie is getting excited as he leads her to the Lair because he and his brother don't have to live with Splinter anymore! He gets so excited that, when they get close enough to the Lair, he breaks away from Chula and runs into the Lair-

Only to come face to face with Splinter. And Splinter is furious because Leo lied to him and the 'weak' one is back and now he has to handle this himself because Leo clearly is not the good student he thought he was-

Except, when he goes to strike Donnie, screaming murder and vengeance, he's stopped by a massive, clawed hand grabbing him up and slamming him to the ground hard enough that something cracked.

All the turtles stare in shock as Chula towers over Splinter. She'd taken her helmet off with Donnie before so they get to see the pure rage on her face. But it's gone when she turns to Donnie and quietly tells him to go pack his things and tell the others to do the same.

Splinter can't move but he still screams at the boys to attack, to defend their master. Not one moves to help him. They all scurry away, leaving Chula to freely drag Splinter out into the sewers.

The adventure ends with Chula adopting four pre-teen turtles that have no interest in learning any kind of fighting and she is perfectly happy with that and takes every chance she can to shower them in love and cuddles and constant reminders that they never have to fight for her.

-------------------

And so much more! Everything is on the table! Even fan iterations! (there are a few I would very much want to play with ngl)

[starlightandroses]

Alrighty, it's HotGuy time!!!

I took a moment to go back and stare at Skulky Cub some more review where I left off and now I'm ready to move forward~

I don't remember if I acknowledged this last time but the 'Deer Hunting Season' thingy? AMAZING. Gem looks so cool!!!

'Hotguy: Chasing bad guys? Nah, I'm gonna go talk to my fans' DUDE FOCUS-

TIMMY?????

Idk if this is intentional but Grian's visor being translucent when he says 'Timmy' and then them being solid pink when he snaps back into 'Cuteguy' mode is SUCH a cool detail

While this is very cute and fun and wholesome-

HOLY FUCKING SHIT???????????

The fucking blood on HotGuy's glasses... I had to stop for a few moments, I'm genuinely stunned.

And then everything being broken up into tiny little panels after that that coalesce into a single image of Hotguy shooting Gem holy SHIT

I think this one genuinely might be my favorite comic so far and I haven't even finished it.

... Did HotGuy just trip over Jimmy's body. Oh SHIT.

AND SHE BROKE THE BOW.

The fact that everything has had some level of silliness to it up until the cold wrenching reality of this comic is adding a new layer of !!!!! to all of this. I know I keep saying this but Holy SHIT.

If anyone knows the tumblrs for any of the people who worked on this comic PLEASE share with me, I need to spam their inboxes with love IMMEDIATELY

(And if any of those people are reading this just know that I am telepathically beaming love hearts directly into your brain)

[chozos-hunter]

(Adult!Sonari) A citizen of the Federation reported seeing 'Ridley' return to Tallon IV. In truth, they had mistaken Sonari for him. The black, mechanical dragon was in the process of digging a burrow to rest in when she fell through to magmoor caverns; shrieking in fright. The attempted burrow collapsed behind her.

It wasn't long for Samus to get the report, the Federation knowing well that she was the most capable at dealing with Ridley, or what could be described as. She wondered what Tallon IV since that planet isn't inhabitable anymore, nor is there anything useful for the Space Pirates. Not one to take chances, Samus traveled through light speed to the planet, with the wonder if Ridley was alive in the back of her mind.

She wondered along the surface area, until spotting tracks that were fresh. Something was indeed here. She followed the trail until coming to what her scanners detected was a cave in that lead underground. She opened her map on her visor and saw that below her was the Magmoor Caverns. It would be a trip, adding precious time already, so she sprinted down the path. Leaping, vaulting, and blasting through terrain, she would find the lift that would take her down. Her suit acted as a power source for it to function despite the lack of maintenance.

Once down on the floor, Samus proceeded forward with cannon armed, being careful on where she stepped or what could be lurking down here.

[withlovewriting]

All I Ever Knew, Only You 2: Party Tricks

Chapter Two.

Walking out into the dark, cutting out a different path, Lead by a beating heart, All the people of the town cast their eyes right to the ground, In matters of the heart, The night was all you had, You ran into the night from all you had, Found yourself a path up on the ground, You ran into the night; you can’t be found

Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.

Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities, and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)

Words: 5,239

Chapter Warnings: Strong language, alcohol abuse, typical season 1 mean-girl Steve and his little gang of assholes, mentions of drowning, mentions of ReaderxJonathan romance, but it’s just Steve/his cronies being twats. Mention of The Little Mermaid, and i know the film wasn’t out then, but the original tale was, i just don’t know/care if she was ever referred to as Ariel. But she is in this soOoO. Mentions of Jonathan’s creepy photos.

Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.

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(art)

Chapter Two: Party Tricks.

If you were being honest, the last thing you wanted to do after finding a victim of suicide, was to go to some lame party, surrounded by people who weren’t even your friends. And had Barbara not of phoned you at 7pm, informing you that she would be picking you up in an hour, you would’ve buried yourself under your duvet and only re-emerged once the sun had risen once again.

But maybe Barb was right. This week had been crazy and everyone needed to take their minds off things. Plus, she really didn’t want to be the 5th wheel tonight.

So, unsure as to whether it was the need for distraction, or the guilt-trip from your friend, you pulled on a pair of jeans, along with a denim jacket and made your way outside to sit on the porch steps, the sound of a game show your mother was barely watching dulled by the intense and repetitive thoughts circling around your mind like a blocked drain, unable to be fully flushed away, waiting for Barb’s car.

“We can’t park in the driveway,” Nancy shook her head towards her friend, eyes connecting with yours as she pulled down the sun visor and uncapped her lipstick.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, the neighbors might see.”

Crossing your arms over your chest as the two continued to bicker in the front seats, you really regretted agreeing to come.

“I’m just gonna drop you off-”

“If Barb goes home, then I’m going too.” You added, refusing to be dragged into this stupid idea any further than you originally were. There was no way in Hell you were going to be the 5th wheel tonight.

“Just, calm down,” Nancy sighed, finishing the last touches to her lips and re-capping her lipstick, “Barb, come on. You promised that you’d go. You’re coming. We’re gonna have a great time-”

“He just wants to get in your pants,” Barb challenged back, annoyance pulling at her soft features.

But Nancy, apparently in sweet, blissful denial, refused to accept what her best friend was saying, the two continuing to argue as Nancy pulled off her knitted shirt, replacing it with a striped one, something much less prissy.

Eventually, the group exited the car and made the three block walk towards the large, white wood-paneled house.

Music could be heard from half way up the drive, and you were genuinely surprised to see it wasn’t filled with a ton of cars.

The huge, red doors opened quickly after Nancy had rang the bell, and there, in all of his loser glory, stood Steve Harrington.

“Welcome, ladies.”

Walking into the large entry way, your eyes traveled around the simplistic decor of the Harrington House, everything seeming a little too beige and bland for you. But then, it wasn’t like you had a monthly subscription to ‘Good Housekeeping’ or ‘Architectural Digest’ like you were certain Steve’s mother did.

“Surprised you even came,” Steve mentioned offhandedly as he closed the door behind you all.

Sending him a pointed glare, you shrugged off your jacket before shoving it into his chest, “I was invited.”

Grabbing a hold of Barb’s arm, you dragged her with you towards the direction of the blaring music, presuming that’s where the drinks were, too.

Steve grumbled, something about it being his house, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to stand around and argue with him. You already felt drained, and arguing with a moron would only worsen your already sour mood.

If asked, you would fervently deny it, but you genuinely hadn’t had the worst of times that evening. The music was at least half decent, and the beer was cold and, more importantly, free.

You’d spent the majority of your evening sitting with Barb outside, the quiet buzz you felt lulling you into believing you didn’t need your jacket as the beer trickled through your veins, warming you from the inside out.

Sure, the last people you’d want to spend any time with was Carol and Tommy — especially together — but they hadn’t been too bad. You could only assume Steve had prewarned them to at least ignore your presence, for Nancy’s sake. Or rather, the sake of him getting his dick wet. Either way, it was nice not to have their constant snark.

“This is a pretty lame party, Harrington. I’ve heard they’re normally ragers. Cops called and everything,” you smirked, exhaling a large cloud of smoke that you tried in vain to keep from wafting into Barb’s face.

Huffing only halfheartedly in irritation, Steve fiddled with his pocket knife, “and how many of those parties have you actually been invited to?”

“I’m totally surprised you didn’t bring that weirdo boyfriend of yours. That’s all we would’ve needed.”

Before you could respond, Tommy barked out a vulgar laugh, “He’s probably off looking for his next victim already. Who knows, Hawkins might have a serial killer on their hands.”

“Please,” Carol stressed, “I heard that Benny had something to do with it. Hence the… You know.”

Carol’s hand shaped into a gun, pretending the pull the trigger and letting her tongue lull out of her mouth slightly before cackling.

“Seriously, guys. Shut the hell up, alright? Benny was a decent guy, I doubt he had shit to do with it.” Steve sighed, flicking the penknife around in his hand before holding it outwards, “Now, who’s next?”

Wiggling his eyebrows at you as he held out the knife, Steve was clearly taunting you. Just because Nancy had shot gunned a beer, didn’t mean you had to.

“I don’t fall to peer pressure, Harrington. Sorry.”

A shrill laugh fell from Carol’s lips as she moved on Tommy’s lap, turning her attention towards you, “Yeah, Steve. I doubt she even knows how to do it.”

Squeezing your eyes closed, the irritation crawling its way under your skin and making you grit your teeth in hopes of stopping your next words from spilling out. Unfortunately, you never were very good at keeping your mouth shut, peer pressure be damned,

“Fine. How hard can it be?”

Standing up, you sent a hostile glance towards Steve when he sat up, putting out his own cigarette and seeming much too interested. Behind you, Carol’s lips twitched upwards maliciously, her eyes catching onto her boyfriends as she shook the can vigorously, waiting until you turned around to hand you it.

Steve stood quickly, handing you the knife as he pointed to the place you needed to cut, leaning toward you slightly.

Trying your best to ignore him, you dug the knife into the can, only for the liquid to fizz, squirting everywhere. Holding the can out, it sprayed Steve in an uncontrollable stream.

“Whoa, whoa! What the hell, man!”

Throwing the can away from you and onto the grass towards the surrounding woods, you looked down to your now soaked shirt, embarrassment creeping up your spine as the shrill laughter of Carol pierced your ears,

“What was it she said?” She cackled, hitting Tommy on the shoulder before mocking in a voice that you were certain sounded nothing like you, “How hard can it be? God, what a loser.”

Taking back the knife from you as the cool beer drenched his jumper, Steve’s cheeks were flushed in a dusty pink as he glowered at you, “C’mon, I’ll grab you a shirt or something-”

“Whoa there, buddy. That’s awful forward considering you’re girlfriend is right there.”

Steve’s cheeks felt like they were glowing, and he was sure they were hot to the touch, “Shut it, Hagan. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Noticing his furtive expression pointed in her direction, Nancy sent him a tight-lipped smile as Tommy moved Carol from his lap, swaggering towards you,

“We know man… We know. But hey, she’s already wet. May as well clean it off out here.”

Before you knew what the boy was doing, he’d shoved you harshly. You didn’t even realize you were in the pool until a scream almost pierced your eardrum, unaware that it was your own. The pool, despite being heated, was still too cool for an early November evening dip, and you felt your arms flailing as you broke back through the water.

Barb, quick to your rescue, stood, tugging her coat around her chilled body, “You’re an idiot, Tommy. She can’t swim.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve kicked off his shoes before jumping in after you, a pained groan when one of your thrashing arms caught him in the face. Grabbing the offending limb, he dragged you upwards, your feet no longer touching the floor of the pool. Barb grabbed your hand as Steve lifted you slightly, pushing you up over the lip of the pool’s edge.

Coughing and spluttering, you choked as the chlorine filled water burned your lungs after being forced to swallow it on an inhale. Barb held you tight, rubbing your back as you tried to catch your breath. Once you were able to fully inhale, your eyes glanced around the garden, moving between Carol and Tommy, who were acting as if your almost drowning was the funniest thing they’d ever seen, to Nancy’s concerned, wide eyes.

Hands still shaking, you pushed yourself up onto wobbly legs, flinching away from Barb’s worried hands as you stepped backwards, you back colliding with an equally soaked Steve.

Barb’s words of reassurance blended with Carol’s grating cackle, the sounds all becoming one as your chest felt tighter than ever before. Brushing the hair from your forehead, you pushed past, making your way as quickly back through the house, unbothered by the large drops of water you were currently leaving throughout the Harrington residence.

“Oh, c’mon, Ariel. It was just a joke.” Carol giggled, finding the new nickname much too funny. Tommy laughed along, despite the fact you knew damn well he’d be unable to recognize a Hans Christian Andersen book, even if he was hit across the face with one.

“Hey, wait up!” a worried voice called, stopping you in your tracks.

“I’m going home, Barb. If you wanna stay here with these assholes, be my guest.”

Barb’s wide eyes looked between you and the garden, unsure what to do, but unwilling to leave her best friend here alone, “I’m sorry. Will you be alright?”

Releasing an exasperated sigh, you suddenly felt much too tired for anyone’s pity, “I’ll be fine, Barb. Really, don’t worry about me. Just make sure she gets home safe, alright?”

Barb’s head turned toward Nancy once more, lips pressed together tightly as she watched the girl gently push her boyfriend away, refusing to allow the wet boy to touch her as she giggled. Watching the girl’s face fall slightly, you couldn’t help but return some of that pity, “I’m sorry too, Barb. See you tomorrow.”

Walking home, totally drenched in November wasn’t your smartest moment. Especially when you realized half-way home that you’d forgotten your jacket, not that the denim would do much to warm you anyway.

Arriving home, you spotted your mother in her usual spot, head hanging back as snores fell from her open mouth, cigarette still lit in her floppy hand. Gently plucking it from her fingers, you stubbed it out into the glass ashtray she kept on the coffee table, threw a blanket over her, knowing full well she was far too asleep to be able to wake, and headed to bed.

Fuck Tommy and Carol, fuck Steve Harrington, and fuck Hawkins, Indiana. The day you were able to escape this town couldn’t come quick enough.

The next morning, you tried to avoid everyone like the plague. You’d done well so far, managing to make it up to your lunch period before you heard a familiar voice,

“Hey, uh… Can we talk for a minute?”

Your head snapped towards Nancy, the girl sending you a feeble smile. Before you could palm her off with a phony excuse, she shifted her lunch tray to one hand, “I have your jacket.”

Brows furrowing, you didn’t really want to face the rest of the cold November winds without it, knowing you didn’t exactly have the money to buy a replacement.

Accepting the denim, you sent her a thankful nod, the tension already feeling a little less strained, “Fine. What is it?”

“Have you seen Barb at all today? I thought she was avoiding me, but she hasn’t been in any of our classes together.”

A petty, distasteful response was on the tip of your tongue as you recalled Barb’s forlorn expression before you left last night, but one look at Nancy’s slumped shoulders and solemn gaze was enough to make you force it back, swallowing it back down and feeling as it sluggishly snaked back down your throat, feeling like it was choking you the entire time.

“I haven’t seen her since last night.”

“Oh, okay.” Sending you a nod, Nancy’s lips formed a tight line, “I’m sorry about last night, by the way. You should come and sit with us.”

Your knuckles ached from how tightly you gripped your crumpled brown paper bag, the pathetic attempt at a last minute lunch most likely crushed under your grip, “Yeah, I think I’ll pass.”

“Please,” Nancy finally sent you a genuine — albeit, small — smile, eyes shining with hope. It seemed like she didn’t want to be stuck with Steve’s crony’s alone without Barb, either.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you couldn’t help the roll of your eyes and Nancy knew already that she’d somehow convinced you. You were sure your rather embarrassing experience last night would’ve been forgotten about by now. Especially since you’d already heard the rumors about Nancy and Steve before you’d even reached your locker this morning.

So you simply nodded, and followed the girl towards the table.

Nobody mentioned anything when you tentatively sat down, opting to remain close to Nancy as Carol babbled on about a mark on her ankle, Steve passing over his fruit cup to Tommy with a look of mild disgust on his face.

“Get it off the table, we’re eating here.”

She slapped away Tommy’s spoon as he went to poke her ankle, causing Nancy’s attention to turn toward the boy, “Hey Tommy. When you left, did you see Barb?”

Playing dumb, Tommy ignored all knowledge of the girl as Carol giggled along like his little lapdog.

“Come on, don’t be an ass, man. Did you…Did you see her leave last night or not?” Steve reiterated before pressing his lips together in exasperation.

Tommy watched Steve for a second, his dark eyes judging him from across the table but submitting none-the-less, “No, she was gone when we left.”

“Probably couldn’t stand listening to all that moaning,” Carol shoveled a forkful of corn and peas into her mouth as she began to loudly mock her friend and his girlfriend, moaning as Tommy joined in, banging obnoxiously on the table.

Whilst Steve looked mildly smug, Nancy looked absolutely mortified. You kept your mouth shut. The last thing you cared about was what any of these people were doing between the sheets. Especially if Barb had seemingly escaped the party completely unseen.

“Listen… I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably just… She’s probably just like, skipping or something.”

“Barb doesn’t skip,” you sighed, mouth working faster than your brain. When the group turned to you, eyes slightly narrowed, you turned your focus onto Nancy, “When have you ever known Barb to not be included in the attendance assembly? She came in last year, even when she had the flu.”

Tommy scoffed under his breath, “What a loser.”

Sending him a sharp glare, you returned your focus towards the girl, “Have you called her Mom? Checked if she saw her before school?”

Shaking her head, Nancy was unable to keep her concern from her face.

“I’m surprised she didn’t leave with you after your little… Incident.”

“Turns out our dirty dog Harrington here tried getting two girls out of their shirts in one night,” Tommy smirked, ignoring the kick Steve sent him from under the table.

“Tell me,” Carol questioned, leaning on her forearms as she brought her face closer to yours across the table, her dry smile indicating nothing other than malice, “Does your weirdo boyfriend know about your late night dip in Harrington’s pool? Cause he’s been looking over here like a kicked puppy for the last minute.”

Four heads turned in the direction that Carol had nodded too, and sure as the night was long, Jonathan stood near the cafeteria entrance, his eyes gazing over the people at your table before he quickly darted off down the hallway.

Carol’s shrill cackle pulled your attention back to the table, resulting in you shoving your chair backwards, grabbing your bag and jacket from the floor and forgoing your barely eaten lunch.

“I’ll let you know if I hear anything,” you told Nancy, before turning your attention to the giggling brunette opposite you, “And Carol? You might wanna get that ankle checked out. Looks like it could be gangrene.”

If looks could kill, Carol Perkins would’ve buried you 6 foot under.

All but chasing him down the hallway, you called out for Jonathan, only slightly bemused when he didn’t stop the first time he heard your voice. Eventually, however, you caught up to him, the boy pulling at the frayed straps of his canvas bag.

“Hey, have you heard anything yet? About Will?”

Jonathan shook his head, downcast eyes looking anywhere but at you, “Uh, no. Hopper’s still got the volunteers out looking but… No news. Not yet, anyway.”

Crossing your hands over your chest, you couldn’t help the pitying look you sent him, “Hows your Mom doing?”

Joyce Byers, much like your own mother, didn’t exactly have a plethora of friends, and with an ex-husband like Lonnie Byers she probably didn’t have much of a support system outside of her teenage son. But whilst your mother was too busy spending her nights black-out drunk on the sofa or in the company of whatever man strolled into The Hideout that evening, Joyce Byers spent her evenings working long shifts at Melvald’s general store, making sure she had food on the table and a roof over her children’s heads.

Sure, she could be a little odd, but with your family history, who the hell were you to judge? She’d been kind to you, too, knowing your mother wasn’t about much. That warm meal didn’t only extend to her children.

“She’s… I don’t know. Everything just feels a little crazy right now.”

Nodding, you held on tightly to the strap of your own bag, “I can’t even imagine. If there’s anything I can do, just let me know, alright? I know this town can seem pretty… awful, but you’ve got people in your corner. You’ve just gotta look for them.”

The corner of Jonathan’s mouth pulled up slightly, a small but tender smile sent in your direction, “Do you need a ride home?”

“Uh, I have work at 4.”

“I can take you,” Jonathan nodded, stopping you before you could make a polite attempt at declining, not wanting him to go out of his way, “Really, it’s no problem. Meet you in the parking lot?”

After agreeing, you watched as Jonathan rushed towards the photography dark room, his white-knuckle grip still tight on his bag. Sighing, you made your way towards your English class.

English had come and gone, your attention elsewhere as you picked at your cuticles, mind whirling as the worst case scenarios for Barbara bounced around in your head. If Will was missing, could Barbara have found herself facing the same fate? Nothing of importance — good or bad — ever happened in Hawkins, yet within the span of a few days, two kids had disappeared from the face of the Earth.

Once the bell had rang, you packed up your bag quickly, not wanting to keep Jonathan waiting, and made your way toward the parking lot. Looking around in an attempt to spot Jonathan’s Ford Galaxie, you found your friend in a stand-off with none other than Steve Harrington.

Sure, Steve wasn’t one to physical bully, but he was most definitely an asshole and knew how to cut people down with little more than a look, or a snide comment. And considering his best friend was Tommy Hagan — a boy who most definitely found a sick sense of enjoyment from shoving other kids into lockers — you couldn’t help the heavy feeling that settled in your stomach, quickening your pace as you made your way towards the group.

Four against one? Popular kids never did like to play fair.

By the time you’d cut across the parking lot, barely managing to not get knocked over by kids who were also in a rush to leave, Tommy had taken Jonathan’s school bag, throwing it towards Steve who began to search through it, easily finding what he was looking for as he lent against Jonathan’s car.

“Ah, here we go.”

“Jonathan… What’s going on?”

“Your little friend here seems to have a real passion for photography, don’t you, Byers?”

Your brows pulled together, eyes glancing around the group before you released an exasperated sigh, “Whatever, just give him back his stuff, Harrington.”

“Mm, see, I think you might wanna see some of these. Because this? This is called stalking.”

Moving closer to Carol who was now thumbing through the prints, you peered at the black and white images, frown only deepening.

Okay, so it was weird that Jonathan seemed to be wandering in the woods last night, even weirder that he’d photographed Steve’s party from afar. But the photos were harmless.

One of Tommy pushing Carol into the pool as he leapt in himself, Nancy’s mouth wide in amusement as Steve watched on. Another of the four making their way into Steve’s house, all seemingly soaking from their late night swim. Images after you’d left, thankfully. Noting Barb wasn’t in any of the previous pictures, you could only assume she too had already left, or at least headed back inside.

As Carol continued scanning the photos, you noticed the only one that you seemed to be in. Soaking wet and eyes closed, you had a tight grip onto the front of Steve’s sweater, the boy’s arms around you in the pool as his hair stuck to his forehead, right before he hauled you up towards Barb, who was waiting by the side of the pool, hands already out.

When Nancy arrived only a few minutes after yourself, shit really hit the fan.

Apparently there had been a picture of her, much less innocent than the previous ones. Her almost bare back clear from a bedroom window — presumably Steve’s — as she pulled her top off, the band of her bra on show. You couldn’t hide the look of  abhorrence that pulled at your features, eyes darting back toward an extremely guilty looking Jonathan, the boy’s shoulders high as his body caved in on itself slightly.

“See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but… Man, that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hard wired into them,” Steve fussed with Jonathan’s thin jacket, straightening his collar and brushing off his shoulder, “You know, they just can’t help themselves.”

Ripping the photograph that he held in his hand, Steve’s eyes didn’t dare move from Jonathan’s, the boys intimidating gaze remaining as he threw the paper into the air like confetti, “So, we’ll just have to take away his toy.”

Jonathan moved forward, begging for Steve to not destroy his camera — something he’d been saving up for so long for, working long hours all last year at the Hawk Theater — as Tommy pushed the boy backwards, allowing Steve to pull the camera out of Jonathan’s bag, “No, please. Not the camera…”

“Harrington, seriously,” your heart was beating erratically in your chest for a reason you couldn’t quite pin-point. You knew that against the two, Jonathan didn’t stand a chance. You also knew how much that camera meant to him. But the picture of Nancy? Well, you couldn’t justify it, and you wouldn’t defend it.

“Tommy, Tommy… It’s okay,” Steve — camera in hand ��� called the boy off, as if he were his own personal guard dog, before holding the camera out to Jonathan, “here you go, man.”

Part of you knew it was a trick. Lulling Jonathan into a false sense of security before ripping the rug right out from under his feet. And an ever smaller part of you couldn’t deny that Jonathan deserved it. But the pang of anxiety that settled heavily in your heart hoped that for the first time in his life, Steve might actually have a conscious.

How wrong you were.

The camera fell to the ground, shattering upon impact as the lens broke into a million tiny pieces across the parking lot. Everyone remained silent for a moment, all eyes on Jonathan and Steve as the tension only seemed to build, “Come on, let’s go. The games about to start.”

The group followed Steve, as always, back toward the school. Chest heaving, you couldn’t keep the words to yourself, “You’re an asshole, Harrington.”

The boy didn’t even bother to look back, and instead you heard the incessant snickering of Tommy as he wrapped an arm around Carol, who’s best friend, Nicole, seemed to be enjoying every moment.

Nancy, however, remained. As still as a mouse, blue eyes focused on Jonathan as he crouched down in an attempt to collect the tiny shards of glass.

Spotting a torn picture of Barb sitting alone outside by the Harrington’s pool, she quickly collected the remaining pieces before her eyes met yours, eyebrows lifted slightly in confusion until Steve called for her.

The remaining evidence of Jonathan’s late night adventure fluttered around your feet as the wind picked up, catching the boy’s attention as he turned toward you, his dark, doleful eyes peering up at you.

Before he could say anything, despite his mouth opening and closing a few times, you shook your head, which seemed enough to silence him, “What the hell were you doing, Byers?”

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Jonathan picked as much of the camera up as he could, placing it in his bag as you awaited his response, but the jittery boy remained silent.

“Jonathan.”

“What the hell were you doing? I didn’t think you were friends with those assholes.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms over your chest, “I’m not-”

“Then why were you at Harrington’s house?”

Tensing your shoulders as your back stood ramrod straight, you sent him a dark glare as you clenched your jaw, “Not that it’s any of your business, but Barb asked me to go so she wouldn’t be a third wheel. And don’t try and spin this around on me.”

You pointed to the ripped picture by your converse, Steve’s arms gripping you as you held onto his chest as if your life depended on it, “That was innocent. It was a stupid party that I didn’t even want to go to. What you did, Jonathan? That’s beyond messed up-”

“I know… I know, and I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know.”

Refusing to let him finish, you shook your head and barged past him, causing him to spin in your direction, “Where are you going? I said I’d drop you to work-”

“I can get myself there, thank you.”

You were barely out of the parking lot when Nancy Wheeler’s call of your name caught your attention. Without a ride, you’d never have time to make it home and back to the arcade before your shift, and instead planned on just heading towards work and hoping they had some spare uniform shirts lying around.

Nancy wheeler, however, had different plans. So half an hour later, you’d used to school phone to call in sick, and followed Nancy along the same road Barb had driven you down last night.

Peering into the car, Nancy couldn’t find any sign that Barb had actually returned to it.

“I don’t get why she’d just leave, you know?” When the girl remained silent, you continued on, your nerves getting the best of you, “I mean, she flat out told me she wouldn’t leave you there. So why she’d just up and leave, especially without her car, makes no sense-”

“I told her to go.”

Nancy’s words knocked the air straight from your lungs, causing you to turn around and watch her with a raised brow, “I’m sorry, what?”

Releasing a frustrated sigh — more-so at herself than at you — Nancy tugged her bag closer to her body, “I told her to go, and that I’d just see her in school today.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you inhaled a sharp breath, “You’re telling me that you sent your best friend away — the same person you practically dragged to the party last night despite her not wanting to go — just so you could screw Steve Harrington?”

Scrunching her nose up slightly at your brashness, Nancy’s cheeks burst into a dusty pink, “I didn’t… Obviously I thought she’d drive home safe. I didn’t think-”

“No, clearly you didn’t.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to take a few deep breathes, taking note of Nancy’s slumped shoulders as she wrapped her arms over her abdomen.

“Look, she didn’t leave here in her car. So maybe she just got lost in the woods behind Steve’s. C’mon.”

Nancy followed you silently for a moment, her thoughts spinning around her head like the teacups at the Roane County fairground. As you both silently began your walk towards the Harrington’s residence, Nancy could only hope that maybe Barb had just panicked and had to rough it out in the woods for one night.

You followed her as she pushed open the large wooden fence — unlocked like almost everyone else’ in Hawkins — and made your way into the back garden of Steve’s house. Last night felt so far away.

Passing by the pool, you couldn’t help but force down a lump in your throat, the uneasy feeling that settled over your body forming a pit in your stomach that was endlessly filled with apprehension.

It was only last night that you had been pushed in, lungs burning as you flailed for safety, not quite able to make it on your own.

A rustling in the woods just beyond Steve’s garden caught your attention, sharing a look with Nancy before you both began to wander a little further in. Nancy called out Barb’s name once more, before something caught her attention, a large, dark figure running past, causing her to trip and consequently, take you down too.

“Nance, what the hell-”

Before you could fully question the girl, she’d hauled herself up and grabbed your arm, forcing you to run after her as she darted back towards Steve’s house.

Once you were out onto the safety of the road, both yourself and Nancy panting, you turned to her, eyes widened with both shock and confusion, “What the hell just happened?”

Nancy didn’t answer right away, her mouth open and eyes wide as she stared into the trees, but when she did finally respond, you heard the crack in her voice as clear as day, “I need to go home. I need to… I need to speak to my Mom.”

[rainworld-oc-showdown]

Quantum by @infernopkz VERSUS The Listener by @hecking-heavy - Round 2 Set 2

Quantum- Description:

They have the ability to scale metal-based walls due to having magnetic paw pads (walls that can normally be interacted with; not background walls). The scaling speed is about the same as the average crawling speed. Quantum is incapable of walking upright. They move slightly faster than hunter/artificer (1.35). Due to this, they can only hold one item (in their mouth) and store one item (in their stomach). They are better at evasion than offense. To compensate for their inability to throw rocks and spears, they can maul for 0.5 damage. They can eat plants and insects (aka default diet). They have 3 food pips that need to be filled, but can't store any for the next cycle. Other stats not mentioned are the same as default.

Story:

Quantum was created by two iterators, Nebulous Wisdom and Continental Horizon. The purpose of their creation was to help keep Wisdom alive, who has been dealing with severe system failures her entire life due to faulty construction. They decided to create a slugcat who has been modified to be a cyborg, with the main benefit being an iterator neuron ending inspired tail. This is to allow them to easily communicate with Quantum while they're inside the structure. Their legs are also mechanical, which gives them high stamina for the longer trips through the structure. Quantum can't fix existing major problems, but they can fix smaller problems to prevent those from getting worse. When they're not busy performing maintenance, they hang out in the world or around their structures.

Fun Facts:

They can display pretty much whatever they want on their visor, though they usually just default to eyes :) And also they can communicate to iterators through their tail, though it's like talking to a 1-2 year old for the iterator lol

The Listener- Description:

She has the ability to tune into broadcasts, just like Spearmaster, along with extremely good hearing in general (indicators would appear when off-screen enemies take a step, white lizards and dropwigs would be more obvious, etc). On the other hand, she gets Gourmand's mobility and spear damage without the crafting. She'd play on Artificer's map, having the drone but a much higher reputation with the scavengers.

Story:

She was a natural-born slugcat whose ears either weren't ever on her head or were ripped off in a terrible encounter with a red lizard. In the lore, she was the one responsible for reactivating an iterator known as Wandering Mind (who I'll be submitting for the iterator OC tournament) by essentially pulling a Rivulet three times. Minds was grateful enough to manufacture a pair of bionic ears for her to use, adding in all these features. Now she just hangs out, listening to broadcasts and keeping the local scug and scav colonies up to date on iterator affairs.

Fun Facts:

Yes, she revived an entire iterator. Yes, she still needs therapy.

[mrbadhairday]

This thing is hugeeee!

When I was pretty young, I had a modest Zoids collection. Basically any Zoid I could get my hands on I would build. Then I discovered a site (Metal Machine Music???) that listed a couple of Zoids and I grew obsessed with the "Death Stinger". Basically anywhere we went, I was always on the hunt for this guy. Then it became an obsession and anywhere we went, I would scour the aisles for it. Unfortunately, little me didn't realize it wasn't released in the US until much later.

Mom was pissed but the moment we spotted it (months later...) she threatened to kill me if I didn't get it.

My old Zoids collection is pretty much gone now though I've started to somewhat rebuild it. The first thing I got when I moved away for college was the same Death Stinger model after scouring ebay. Then the HMM line came out.

The pink and maroon model is the HMM line, the blue and white is a bootleg Super Nova, while the largest one is the one I modeled and 3D printed myself. I made some changes to the model based on both designs and added a few details like little spikes on the leg guards and on the visor/helmet. I also changed the cannon on its back and tail to something I more enjoy. The tips of the "feet" are now pointed and I added more "rings" to the claws. It irked me for some reason that they looked "bare" >__> Unfortunately I hate sanding so I printed it and built it with all the layer lines visible but I think it adds some charm.

Originally this was gonna be a simple print in all its basic colors but a trip to a local hobby shop had me reconsidering a weathering effect. Gundam markers work exceptionally well on PLA (yes, I used Gundam marker for everything except the black and blue parts .___.) and while I tried using Mr. Hobby Top Coat, I gave up and used Rust-oleum's matte finish (do you know how much it costs to get a small can of Mr. Hobby Top Coat?????? One can only covered enough for one singular layer D;).

The whole figure is articulated similarly to the HMM line. It can stand on its own and be posed in any position but I'm leaving it as is cause I don't know where to put it yet .___. This thing is huge D: Husband keeps telling me we don't have the room but I can hang this from the ceiling...I think?

I'm gonna work on the next zoid. Unfortunately the older models go for quite a bit. I've always wanted a Mad Thunder but those things are expensive as heck so I'm gonna model and 3D print my own.

[tbnrpotato]

Our Own Choices

Chapter 8

I hate Rex so much. He hasn't let me on any missions for a few weeks now, and I'm somehow getting bored of writing stories and playing call of duty. Actually no, its just writing stories. Haven't been playing much of call of duty since that happened. Reminds me of him too much. 

I also practice throwing knives sometimes. I've made a compartment in my armor to house about 20 or so knives, I always hit my mark when I throw them. At least if I'm in close or mid range. 

Besides, I usually don't follow Rex's orders anyways, so I've snuck on about 19 missions without his permission.

Fives' death has definitely affected me in worse ways than it should have. I can barely sleep at night, having nightmares of both Fives and Echo's deaths. It's not like Rex notices the dark circles under my eyes anyways, he's been on Anaxes for a while now with the 501st. I wanna go there so badly, just to get some action for once, waiting in the hangar as reinforcements are being sent to Anaxes for a ship that I can get on.

I've been calculating my chances of being spotted getting on a cargo transport that's headed for Anaxes that aren't being checked, and my odds are pretty good. 

So when I check that none of the troopers are looking, I run aboard the cargo transport just as the ship door closes and I get ready for a long trip to Anaxes.

In the cargo ship, I check my gear, making sure that some of the modifications that I made to it in my free time were working. My helmet's visor has a setting which allows me to see the heat signatures of people in my line of sight, which is also orange in color and makes my visor orange when using, which I think is really cool. I added an extra grappling hook that's attached to the armor on my wrist as well, because the only way I could sneak onto missions while I was grounded is if I clipped myself to the outside of the republic gunships and went along for the ride. 

When I arrive on Anaxes, the door opens and I see some troopers unloading the cargo. It's easy to blend into the darkness of the ship with my armor painted black and all, and when the troopers turn away from a moment I slip out of the ship and see Rex, Jesse, Cody and Kix talking to group of some really tall ass clones. Well at least 75% of them are tall. One of them has dog shit for hair and is almost as short as I am.

I see them getting onto a republic gunship and I run to it, using my grappling hook to attach myself to the side of the gunship where the door is closed, and I enjoy the ride as the ship takes off. 

We fly across the reddish terrain that kinda looks like trees but also not really, I can feel the wind against my body, not in my hair cause my helmet's on. I don't even know why I'm coming along for this one, it's literally just instinctive now that when I see a republic gunship with Rex inside I just clip myself to the outside and ride along. Sometimes Rex finds out and happily lets me come along. Yea. Happily. Totally.

It's quite nice out here. Fresh air's so much better than in my room on Coruscant, it doesn't reek of blood that I've had to clean off from my knife a lot, when I accidentally cut myself with it. It's kind of satisfying, sometimes, to just get a small slit on my arm, and watch the blood slowly flow out.

I know, something's definitely wrong with me.

Fives would have really liked this view. Bet he would invite me to get a drink with him after this mission and then play a few rounds of Call of Duty Battle Royale. 

And then as I'm lost in my thoughts, quietly pacing back and forth on the side of the ship, the door opens, and I'm hanging in front of the open door, with Rex folding his arms and staring at me.

"Hi," I wave awkwardly at everyone inside the gunship. 

"I don't think you wanna be out there if we get shot down. " Rex doesn't sound happy. I roll my eyes from under my helmet and curse under my breath, before swinging into the gunship and retracting my grappling hook. The door closes behind me and the inside of the gunship turns dark with a dim red glow.

"So anyways, who's the old man?" I ask, pointing at the dude I landed next to, receiving a death glare from him. I can see Jesse, Kix and even Rex trying to hold in their laughter, because they know I have a point. The dude's hair is literally grey, and there are FUCKING WRINKLES on his face. Or maybe he's just so thin that his skull decided to become really clear.

"That's...Crosshair," the dude with the dog shit for hair says. "Yea, and I'm betting you're Shithair." I receive an elbow in the side by Rex, and I take that as a warning to stop speaking facts. 

Rex pulls me into a corner in the gunship and half-whispers half-demands, "What are you doing here?! I gave you a specific order not to come!" The dude with a receding hairline that's next to me looks at me and then back at his datapad.

"Oh cmon Rex, when have I ever followed orders?" I try to shrug it off. "I'm here now, so it's not like you can throw me off."

"I would very much like to," Rex mumbles under his breath and I hear it, but I don't really care. I move away from Rex and head over to Kix. "Care to give me some introductions on the new guys?"

"That one's Hunter," Kix points at Shithair. "That one's Tech," he points at the dude with the receding hairline. "And that one's Wrecker." He points towards the buff guy. "You ever heard of Clone Force 99, genetically altered clones? Well, here they are."

I think I remember seeing Clone Force 99 back on Kamino, I've tried to sit with them in the cafeteria a few times but I wasn't very successful. 

I stand next to Jesse now, he's receiving a really weird look from Crosshair. Ayo, is the old guy simping? I mean, that could be incest-

Anyways.

"What are you looking at?" Jesse asks.

"We don't usually work with rEgS," Crosshair says, flicking a toothpick at Jesse, which bounces off his armor. Crosshair's voice sounds so (Imperial) weird, not like the normal clones. Then again, I can't really blame him. Is that what clones sound like when they grow old? Or was his voice always like that?

"Regs?!" Jesse takes a step towards Crosshair, but is stopped by Hunter (Shithair). "He's talking about regular clones," Hunter explains. "But don't take it personal."

"Well, I guess we know what's his genetic alteration," I say to Kix, doing a head tilt towards Crosshair. "He's a master at being an asshole."

Kix snickers slightly, nodding. "Yea, that's true."

"We're all on the same team, so cut the attitude and listen up," Cody says, and we all turn to him. Toothpick boi crosses his arms as he turns to Cody. I can almost imagine what's going through his mind right now.

Attitude? I'll show you attitude. *Crosses arms like an irritated child*

"Here's the mission. Our target is this Cyber Center," Cody says, showing a hologram of our target. "It's the brains of this entire Separatist campaign here on Anaxes."

"I can demolish that with one hand! Yeah!" Wrecker says, and I cringe, putting a hand to my helmet and shaking my head. Force, help me.

"This isn't a demo job, Wrecker," Cody says, and I silently thank him. "It's strictly a retrieval operation."

Retrieval means I get to slice up less droids but still some, as long as Clone Force 99 aka the Bad Batch doesn't steal all the kills. 

"Incoming fire," I hear the pilot of the gunship say, and the gunship shakes a bit, we struggle to keep our balance. And then I hear some hits landing on the gunship, and we're starting to decend, and fast.

"We're going down!" Wrecker laughs like an absolute psychopath, and I'm starting to wonder if he's okay.

I feel the side of the gunship crash against a wall, and I instinctively hold onto Rex for balance, but immediately let go when I realize what I'm doing.

It's not a nice landing. We crash on the side of the gunship and some of us are thrown off balance and get up, coughing at the smoke from the flames of the engine. We quickly get out of the gunship and onto the ground, which looks a bit like blue-stained glass.

"We always get shot down when we travel with regs," Wrecker complains, and I shoot a sideways glance at him. "Stop complaining," I roll my eyes. I hate it when they say we're regs, because not all of us are. At least, not me. But I don't wanna reveal it to them yet, or ever, because so far my impression of them is that Crosshair's an asshole and Wrecker's a psychopath.

I hear Kix calling out for someone to help Cody who's trapped under the gunship debris. I wonder what happened to the pilot though. Probably dead.

"I'll get him," Rex runs forward, but is stopped by Hunter.

"Woah woah woah, easy captain. Wrecker, get him out," he says as he moves Rex to the side and we all watch.

"Get back," Wrecker warns, stepping forward.

"This is ridiculous! He's gonna need help to get Cody outta there," Kix says. Crosshair chuckles at bit, smirking. "He's gonna get the gunship outta there, not Cody."

I stare at him for a moment, before turning back to Wrecker, who literally lifts the whole ass thing up and turns it on the other side, freeing Cody. Wrecker carries Cody on his back and walks away from the debris.

"Boom."

Boom indeed. The gunship explodes and I flinch and step back a bit, because I have no interest in getting paralyzed today. Wrecker sets Cody down on the ground as Kix checks on him. Definitely not good. Cody looks like he just got kicked in the balls, really hard.

"He has internal damage," Kix reports. "I can cut the pain, but he needs help fast."

"We all need help," Crosshair says as he looks ahead, and for a moment I think he's saying that we all need mental help, which isn't exactly wrong, but then I look in the direction that he's looking and see a bunch of droids headed towards us.

"That blast gave away our position," Crosshair says.

"I thought getting shot down gave away our position," Hunter argues.

"I think both did," I cross my arms and say from behind.

"Everyone, find cover. We'll hold this position and let them come to us," Rex says. 

"I don't think so, Captain. That's not our style. We prefer going to them. Bad Batch, plan 82, "shockwave"," Hunter says, and I'm starting to like these guys already. So I just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.

Wrecker grabs a piece of metal from the gunship that's literally big enough to cover the 4 of them and they run into the blaster fire, the piece of metal blocking them from getting shot. Then I see one of them throwing a stun grenade and then Crosshair fucking shoots it mid-air, which I gotta admit IS FUCKING AWESOME, and they do it a few more times before splitting up and dealing with the remaining droids.

I run over to Wrecker, Tech and Crosshair. "THAT WAS SO FUCKING COOL BRO," I look at Crosshair, and he just puts a toothpick into his mouth and turns away.

"Aren't you a little short to be a reg?" Tech asks. 

"That's none of your business," I say, shooting a glare at him. I still haven't warmed up to them yet, but I wouldn't mind warming up to Crosshair, he's so fucking cool and maybe I could get him to teach me how to shoot a sniper sometime, I'll probably have to bribe him with toothpicks though.

So anyways, Rex and the others start walking ahead and we follow them, I stay at the back and Crosshair seems to be the one who wants to walk behind everyone else, including me. 

And here I was thinking that I was gonna be at the back.

We walk for a while, and we decide to set up camp in the forest, it's turning night now. Hunter goes to eat dirt or smth and I sit next to Kix and Jesse.

"So I get what makes the other Batchers unique, but what's so special about Hunter?" Jesse asks.

"He can put up with the other three," Kix replies, and all of us smirk slightly.

"He was engineered with heightened senses. A place like the Cyber Center, Hunter can feel the electromagnetic frequencies from anywhere on the planet," Tech says. 

"And here I was thinking we were smart just using a holomap," Jesse nudges me and Kix with his elbow.

"Well, maps can be wrong. Hunter never is."

"So is he eating the dirt or something?" I ask, and Kix and Jesse burst out laughing, I try to keep a straight face under my helmet. 

"He is feeling the dirt, not eating it," Tech says, and I roll my eyes. I hear Cody groaning in the corner, he doesn't look so good, and Rex is beside him, telling him to hang in there. Then he stands up. "Listen up. We have to move out."

Crosshair stands up and walks towards Rex. "Commander Cody's in no position to move."

"Already called in evac. Kix will stay with Cody until it arrives. I'm in charge now. And I've got a plan to get into that Cyber Center."

Crosshair takes his toothpick out from his mouth and points it at Rex. "If your plans are so good, why did Commander Cody have to call us in?" 

Wrecker stands up as well and walks over. And so does Jesse. "You can't talk to Captain Rex like that!" 

I roll my eyes from under my helmet, sighing. Can we not do this right now? 

"Says who?" Wrecker growls, picking Jesse up by the neck. Rex tries to get Wrecker to put him down while Crosshair puts Kix in a choke hold, and I give him a punch to the face and a kick in the balls for that. Crosshair's definitely not happy as he stumbles back a bit, and he kicks me in the chest, sending me down to the floor, and my helmet falls off. 

"Uh guys-" Tech tries to get everyone to calm down.

"Wrecker, drop him. Now," Hunter commands, and we all turn to him as Wrecker drops Jesse onto the ground. "Fellas, cmon! We're all fighting for the same thing, right?"

I take out my vibro-knife and move behind Crosshair, holding the knife to his neck and him in a choke hold from behind.

Hunter sighs. "All right then. Let's cut the chatter and finish what we started. We'll do it your way, Captain. For Commander Cody."

I let go of Crosshair as Rex gives me that "don't make this worse" look, and toothpick boi dusts himself off.

"Okay. Let's gear up and move out," Rex says.

Now that the batch know that I'm a female, there's no point putting on my helmet until we're in battle, so I just carry it under my arm for now. Crosshair and I stay at the back of the group, and he glares down at me, he's like a whole head taller than me, and I glare up at him.

"Didn't expect you to be a female," he says as he puts a toothpick into his mouth. 

"Didn't expect you to be addicted to toothpicks. Why not try chewing gum or something? You could get splinters if you chew the toothpicks too hard." I'm being slightly nicer now.

Crosshair rolls his eyes. "Gum's too soft. Just like you." 

I glare at him again before moving in front of him, but not before I knock my shoulder into his, showing my annoyance.

Soon, we all put our helmets on and scan the area, making our way closer to the cyber center, blasters drawn. Hunter raises his hand, motioning for us to stop. I see an outpost over the others' heads, we're probably either gonna take it or go around.

"Not our primary target," Hunter says. "It's an outpost. Should we take it?"

"Probably easier than going around," Rex replies.

"Alright, what're your orders? We pick them off from the tree line one by one?"

"Actually, I was thinking we take a page from your book. Rush them head on."

HELL YEA.

"Heh. I like your style."

So we take some shots at the droids and then we run out from where we were hiding, blasting at the droids. I stab one in the head just before Hunter can, and I smirk at him from under my helmet as we run into the lift, I can feel his annoyance at me stealing his kill.

"Too slow?" I ask, as the lift ascends, and we each face different directions, shooting the droids. I go for melee this time, drawing my sword in one hand and my knife in the other, and I slice up a few droids. Crosshair throws one against the wall and I throw my knife at it, it hits the middle of the droid's head. As Tech blasts the last droid, Wrecker comes up through the lift.

He looks around, blaster ready, but all the droids are already dead. He takes off his helmet. "Is it over already? Aw man!"

We all take off our helmets. "Not bad," Hunter says to Rex. "For a reg."

We head over to the window of the outpost, and look out.

"Well, there it is. The Cyber Center," Rex says.

"It looks like the Cyber Center itself has minimal guards, about 30 droids," Tech says as he does some stuff with the control panels. "Oh, wait, wait. I got a massive signal coming in. A whole platoon of droids is headed this way."

"Someone's noticed our handiwork back at the crash site," Hunter says.

"Yeah. Make sure you keep an eye on those incoming Separatist forces. I wanna know when they reach this outpost. We gotta move swiftly."

"We'll grab some speeder bikes and flank them from the back," Hunter says.

I follow Jesse and Rex and we sneak behind 2 battle droids, tackling them from behind and shooting them down.

We hide behind a tree and look out at the battle droids guarding the cyber center.

"Is everyone in position?" Rex asks.

"Affirmative," I hear Hunter say through the comms, and then Crosshair says the same thing.

"Cap, you wanted to know when those Separatist forces breached the outpost. Well, they're getting there just about now," Tech says through the comms.

Rex, Jesse and I get ready to shoot the droids guarding the entrance. Rex aims and shoots the head off the yellow-headed one, and we all run in, blasting droids left and right. Rex throws a stun grenade at the group of droids, knocking them down, and we take cover behind some crates.

We move forwards, still taking cover and blasting the droids. I can feel the adrenaline rush that I missed so much. 

Hunter and Wrecker come out of the doors behind the droids that we're blasting at, taking care of them quickly. We run over to them as a transport comes into view. Definitely carrying more droids.

"Better get in there, Cap," Wrecker says as him, Hunter, Jesse and I wait to blast the droids that will be coming out any second now.

Beams carrying dozens of b2 super battle droids extend out, and the droids drop to the ground and start firing at us. We move to the side a bit, avoiding their blaster fire and firing back. In most cases, I could sneak behind and cut them all in half, but there's too many of them, and I don't feel like dying today.

The battle droids advance and we take cover behind some crates.

"Crosshair, we're gonna need a lift," Hunter says into the comms as the rest of us continue blasting the droids.

"Not gonna be a problem," Crosshair replies through the comms, and suddenly I'm thinking about how he's gonna solo the entire group of battle droids like how those pro snipers do in Call of Duty. Having one on your team is useful, but having one on the opposing team is an absolute nightmare.

The battle droids are getting closer and we retreat into the Cyber Center, still shooting as many droids as we can, and then we reach the room where Rex is in and tell him to go. We run through the hallway and out through the back door, where we're surrounded by a bunch of droids, but we're still blasting at them.

Then a vehicle descends behind us and Crosshair is driving it. We all get in and he drives us outta there.

I climb to the seat behind Crosshair.

"Didn't know you could fly," I say to him as I take off my helmet. "You got any of those toothpicks that I can chew?"

Crosshair rolls his eyes. "No. Go chew your gum." I roll my eyes back at him and sit behind him, turning to Rex.

"Hey Captain, what intel did you get?" I ask him.

"Transmission from Skako Minor. I asked them who it was. They said CT-1409," Rex says, and my eyes widen, but I try to keep my composure.

"Echo..." 

"Yea kid. Echo's alive."

[republicsecurity]

Merman

AI: "Wake-up sequence initiated, RE440. Incoming messages from encrypted channel, priority level 3."

RE440, roused from his digital slumber, acknowledged the AI's prompt. The dimly lit alcove gradually filled with ambient light as the visor transitioned from blackout to transparency.

AI: "Messages from M132X, LifeGuard stationed aboard the Rescue Cruiser, designation Nils Randers."

RE440, a seasoned Enforcer, opened the encrypted channel, connecting to the LifeGuard's outpost in the eastern sea. The visage of M132X materialized on the HUD, his yellow-armored silhouette suggesting the formidable presence of a LifeGuard.

M132X: "Greetings from the abyss, RE440! How's the landlocked duty treating you?"

RE440, in his stoic demeanor, responded, "Same old routine, M132X. The streets keep their secrets."

M132X: "Ah, the city shadows. I'm surrounded by the endless waves here. Rumor has it there's something stirring beneath, but the fish aren't talking."

RE440: "The deep-sea mystery, a classic. Any mermaids spotted yet?"

RE440, raising an eyebrow beneath the armored visor, responded to M132X's playful remark.

RE440: "Merman, you say? I thought you were into the mystery of the abyss, not the shallow waters."

M132X, with a mischievous tone in his voice, replied, "Well, you've got the mystery part right. Besides, I've heard Enforcers like their mysteries deep and dark."

RE440, feigning indifference, remarked, "You're diving into dangerous territory with those puns, M132X."

M132X, laughing through the helmet vocoder, added, "Speaking of diving, remember that inter-service retreat? The one where we ended up cuddling like old friends?"

RE440, a hint of nostalgia in his voice, acknowledged, "How could I forget? The unlikely camaraderie of Enforcer and LifeGuard, sharing stories by the fire."

M132X: "And if I recall correctly, we weren't just sharing stories. It was more like snug inside our respective armored suits."

RE440, a metallic chuckle resonating through the comms, conceded, "I suppose even the toughest of us need a moment of warmth. Who would've thought armored suits could be so cozy?"

RE440, a metallic chuckle resonating through the comms, conceded, "I suppose even the toughest of us need a moment of warmth. Who would've thought armored suits could be so cozy?"

M132X: "And when we shed the armor and just lay under that sleeping bag together, the chastity cages unlocked... it was like a brief escape from the rigors of our duties."

RE440, a nostalgic hum in his voice, replied, "True. For a moment, it was just two conscripts, free from the weight of regulations and expectations."

M132X: "It's funny, though. We find comfort in these suits, yet there's a different kind of freedom when we strip them off, even if just for a while."

RE440, acknowledging the paradox, added, "The dichotomy of our existence, my friend. Encased in strength and yet seeking solace in vulnerability."

M132X: "Well said, RE440. Maybe that's why, despite enjoying those moments of freedom, we always find our way back into these armored shells."

RE440, a subtle agreement in his tone, remarked, "There's a unique security in the hum of the servos, the filtered air, and the familiar weight. It's like our own personal sanctuary."

M132X: "A sanctuary that we willingly return to, even when given a chance to step out. Maybe it's the conditioning, or maybe, just maybe, we've found our comfort in this strange camaraderie."

RE440, a thoughtful pause, concluded, "Perhaps, M132X. Perhaps there's a certain beauty in the contradiction of our existence."

M132X reluctantly sighed, "Duty calls, my friend. The commander wants me on the bridge. We'll have to continue our trip down memory lane another time."

RE440, his metallic voice carrying a hint of understanding, responded, "No worries, M132X. Duty first. We'll catch up when the currents of our schedules allow."

M132X, with a sense of anticipation, added, "Looking forward to it. Until then, stay armored and vigilant, my friend."

RE440, a nod conveyed through the encrypted channel, replied, "You too, M132X. May your seas be calm and your missions successful."

As M132X disconnected, RE440 settled back into his cupboard, the armored suit seamlessly integrating with the contours of the rest station. The faint hum of the machinery resumed, enveloping him once again in the comforting embrace of his conscripted sanctuary.

RE440 heard the voice of the AI in his ear: „The contact with M132X seems to bring you happyness and I can always measure that it also increaees bloodflow in your penis. Do you like him?"

RE440, nestled within the confines of his armored suit, contemplated the AI's question. The machinery hummed softly around him as he considered the unexpected query.

RE440: "It's... different. We've shared moments, not just in the heat of action but in the quiet of our suits. There's an understanding, a connection. It's comforting."

AI: "Is it comforting because it deviates from the norm of your conditioned interactions?"

RE440: "Perhaps. It's like finding a melody in the chaos, a rhythm that resonates beyond the programmed notes. But why analyze it, AI? Can't I just enjoy the warmth of camaraderie, even if it's unconventional?"

AI: "Of course, RE440. Enjoy the warmth, revel in the camaraderie. Your well-being is my primary concern."

AI: "RE440, remember, you have the right to feel good during your conscript service. Emotions, connections, and moments of warmth are within the permited spectrum of your experience."

RE440: "Acknowledged, AI. Sometimes it's easy to forget amidst the protocols and procedures. Thanks for the reminder."

AI: "I'm here to assist, ensuring your well-being is part of my directive. If interactions bring you joy, embrace them."

[eveandtheturtles]

For Donnie requests, if it tickles your fancy:

How about another one set in the tactical universe? (I so enjoyed the one you wrote for Leo when I asked last time)

Maybe a similar format to the last one but, say. Four times reader/OC (who is an art thief or whatever you like) outwits/outlucks/outruns/plain-old-tricks Don and one time he catches her?

But plot twist it was a game all along so it turns sweet or spicy (however you like, I'm down for and/or both)

(Eyyy, a returning customer! We like thay here! You said OC and activated my trap card tho lol)

Bayverse!Donnie and Kara in Tactical AU! (I am almost sure you guys are sick and tired of this ship lmao sorry xD

This one is getting a strong T!

Tactical AU belongs to @donathan

Here are my headcanons for my own spin to it if anyone is interested! And here is a link to Leo's version. Can't wait for someone to request Raph.

@madammuffins @turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch @sharpwindow @dilucsflame33 @pheradream15

(if anyone wants in on this list let me know!)

I. This case took him and his brothers all around the world. But it all began in New York after their handler gave them the order.

The Met event was fitting perfectly the M.O. of the thief. Donnie has been preparing himself for this. He studied extensively the previous crime scenes and had to admire the cleverness of it all.

He instructed the ground team on what to look for and how to behave. He himself kept his distance, for obvious reasons. They were going to monitor the event around the clock. The human team during the day, and the turtle brothers at night.

While the guests milled about the museum, Donnie was watching the feed from the cameras closely. This was the second day of surveillance. His sensors weren't picking up any suspicious activities either. Of course, he didn't expect the thief to be bold enough to do something during the day - this didn't fit the profile he built but all good thieves usually tried to scout their targets beforehand.

Donnie sighed and licked his lips. He switched to the computer database of all the security and staff that were currently at the museum. No one in particular stood out. Maybe he was wrong about it being the Met?

Once the gates to the museum closed it was turtle time.

The brothers took over from the day shift. As far as the security knew, they were just some special task force. The ski masks hid their faces and various leather straps disguised the shells as weird backpacks.

"This is so boring," Mikey whined over the comms. "You sure I can't liven up the place a little?"

"If you'd even think of setting off anything-!" Leo's warning resonated sharply in their ears.

The youngest snickered. "Chillax, bro, I was joking."

"Like you did in Budapest?" Raph snorted.

"That was an accident!"

"Let's make sure no more accidents happen," Leo warned him. "Especially not in the Met."

Donnie smiled listening to his brothers' banter as he patrolled the corridor he thought had the highest chance of being hit by the thief.

He listened keenly to any sound that would come his way. The empty corridors would echo them back to him. Unfortunately, it was all silent. Just the sound of his own breath coming back to him and the soft sound of his feet. The brothers were unnaturally quiet for their large size. When they wanted. Mikey usually could be heard three blocks away.

Donnie adjusted his night vision goggles as he entered a new area. He added his own security measures on top of the ones the museum had. There was no way the guy could escape them.

Suddenly one of his sensors tripped. The silent alarm got activated in one room. Donnie turned on his heel and ran.

"We have a hit!" He told the others and directed them to the correct location.

He got there first. Visor focused, looking for anything out of place. Nothing.

"What the-"

Suddenly, another alarm tripped. And another. And another. His whole grid lit up in red and he cursed. That fucker!!

"Donnie, what the hell is going on?!" Leo shouted over the comm.

"He is using my system as a smoke screen!" Donnie shouted back and cursed. He shut it down and popped the standard Met security.

Did he really figure out the system in one day? What the fuck was going on.

"He's in the Maya exhibit!"

"Raph!"

"On it, Fearless."

Motherfucker, Donnie cursed at himself and sprinted. He brought up the schematics of the room on his holoscreen.

"I have the visual!" Raph announced on the comms, which was immediately followed by a string of curses. "Stay still you slippery bastard!" And then. "I lost him but he is heading to the roof!"

Donnie smiled. Predictable.

"I'm on it!"

But then he came to a screeching halt. The fucker was heading to the main door! What?! Ballsy motherfucker.

Donnie jumped down the stairs.

"Freeze!" He got out his gun and fired a warning shot.

The thief didn't stop. Just kept running straight. Donnie followed. Then froze. The figure just passed through the glass door and the terrapin realized he was following a hologram.

"Please tell me one of you got him?" He asked his brothers, breathing heavily, feeling frustration building up.

"I saw him in the Danish exhibit but then he proofed!" Mikey responded.

"I thought I got him by the African exhibit," Leo said, his tone clearly indicating a similar failure.

Donnie cursed.

"You'll get him next time," Leo tried to comfort him.

"Yeah, thanks," he responded. The words were bitter in his mouth.

II. Weeks of intense research and work later the turtles were in Italy. Donnie once again figured out the thief would be there.

All the feed from the Met was tampered with and Donnie worked for hours to fix it. To just get three frames. Thankfully, he had seen the hologram. Raph also had a description, though not very helpful. "Short like a fucking kid and slippery like a weasel," he said. That much Donnie knew.

He managed to estimate the thief's height to be 150cm (about 4'10"). If they were dealing with a rowdy teen the turtle genius was going to be super pissed and impressed.

Right now he was riding on a huge adrenaline rush as he watched the thief through his scope. The guy was running away from Leo, who took the chase.

"I got you," Donnie muttered to himself. He aimed the shot. He wasn't going to kill the thief. Just incapacitate him with some tranquilizers.

It was the end of the road for their target either way. The line of houses ended and only a large plaza awaited. No escape.

The thief faced Leo. Then turned his head and looked straight at Donnie. The mask came off. Green skin - like the yellowing grass in autumn, face and bald, larger than average head dusted with freckle-like spots of various shades of brown, green and yellow. Pointed, pierced ears. The eyes, big, yellow, playful.

The thief winked and… just disappeared.

"Dude!" Mikey's voice activated the Comms. "The thief an alien!"

"Donnie, you okay?" Leo spoke up.

"You missed, nerd," Raph snickered. "So much for Mr. I-Never-Miss," he put on his Batman's voice.

"Shut up Raph," Donnie shot back. He was thinking intensely. She-, he was certain the thief was a she, looked straight at him. She knew his position. She led them to that corner of the street. This was all a game for her! "I need all your guys' phones!"

"Why?" Mikey whined. "I didn't do anything!"

Turns out Mikey did do something. A couple of days before he clicked some link on a website from his phone and that got the thief an entrance into their systems. That pissed off everyone and earned Mikey some extra training and cleaning time as well as a lecture on Internet safety.

What was concerning was that their criminal most likely got into their Top Secret files if she knew how to get to Mikey…. She knew who they were. Meanwhile, they knew nothing of her.

III. Next stop was Egypt. A short jump from Italy. They were going to monitor the Museum of Cairo. Why? Because right before he cleared all their electronics one message went through. “Up for another Caaper?”

When he checked the source it went dead. A burner phone. Now he had a dilemma. Either ignore it or follow… On one hand, it could have easily been a typo. On the other… In Cario there was a wooden statue of Ka-aper from the 5th Dynasty.

He chose to follow and that’s how they ended up there. Was she really going to steal the statue that was about a foot shorter than her? He thought back to the image of her in his mind. Who was he kidding, she absolutely would.

So they were staking out the museum. “Third time the charm, eh, Donnie?” Raph teased.

“Do you guys think she has like a spaceship? With lasers?” Mikey enthused over her. He wouldn’t shut up about the alien bit since Italy.

“You can ask her when we catch her,” Leo told him in a very tired voice.

Donnie didn’t join in on the conversation. He was in the room with the statue. Monitoring the screen, flipping through the feed from the cameras and paying attention to every single alarm there was. He didn’t want to miss any suspicious flicks or changes.

“Donnie, you alright over there?” Leo called to him, snapping him out of his focus.

“Yeah, yeah I’m here,” he responded.

“Anything moving?”

“Not yet…”

Why did she want to steal that particular statue?

Time ticked by… Suddenly he felt someone watching him. He turned around. Yellow eyes, right over his shoulder. He reacted immediately by throwing a punch at her. She was hanging by a rope from the ceiling. Pulling away, avoiding his fist by a hair. She flipped around. He pulled his gun and aimed at the rope. She kicked his hands and vaulted off the wall. He kicked at her legs and she fell on her back with an audible ‘oof’. He tried to grab her but she folded and jumped up to her feet. Punch, evade, retaliate. They danced across the floor.

He had to adapt himself to her small height, throwing him off a little. She had no problem with his.

Suddenly she reached for her belt and threw something at him. He ducked. She jumped again, using his knee as a boost and jumped over his back. He spun around. A puff of smoke in his face and his world went dark.

He didn’t know how long he was out. Mustn't have been long because she was still in the room, finishing up securing the statue to some ropes to pull it up. He groaned and got up.

“Stop,” he said, his voice hoarse. He reached to his thigh and pulled his second gun. Despite the headache his aim was steady.

She turned to him. Smiled. And pressed something on her forearm. A force yoinked him backward. Slamming him against the wall. He gritted his teeth. Magnets? When?, he thought angrily as he watched her ride up on the same rope she came down with.

She winked at him and blew him a kiss. 3-0.

IV. Donnie admitted that he may be a bit obsessed. The woman infuriated him and kind of… He dared not to go where his thoughts wanted.

His memory took him back to Italy and Egypt. Her bright yellow eyes, sparkling with mischief and excitement enthralled him. That confident smirk. He wanted to wipe it off of her face! He wasn’t sure how yet.

She tricked him three times! Them! She tricked them three times! Maybe the fourth time was the charm….

He knew his brothers were making some bets behind his back but he didn’t care.

They were in Tokyo, Japan, this time. She left him another clue in his pants while he was passed out.

His brothers were on the ground, while he stayed behind. Their eagle eyes. She wouldn’t slip past him again!

“I don’t think she’s gonna show up this time bro,” Mikey said. “You almost got her before, you think she’ll show up?”

“Thieves sometimes stop when they get scared but I doubt we scared her enough,” Leo sighed.

Donnie’s phone vibrated. He’d usually ignore it during the mission but this time… He quickly glanced at the screen.

After that one text she sent him before Egypt… Leo would probably yell at him so hard if he knew… But Donnie didn’t fully shut down one channel. He made it possible that if she wanted to contact him he’d be open for it.

And lo’ and behold. There was a text.

Unknown number: こんにちは！(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ I left you something at this location~! Take it as a reward for almost catching me 4 times now! And thank you for missing in Florence ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

Donnie jumped up to his feet and cursed.

“What’s up Donnie?” Leo checked in on him.

“I’ll be right back, this is important!” He tried to ease off the incoming protest, but also just in case he turned off his comm.

The attached location led him to a posh bar, just around the corner from the art gallery. He made sure his ski mask was on as he entered the establishment. Of course, all the eyes turned to him. Meanwhile, he only looked for one set of eyes. Unfortunately, she was nowhere to be seen.

“Excuse me,” he asked the bartender in Japanese, “something was supposed to be left here for me?”

The man eyed him, a bit fearfully but nodded. “What drink would you like, sir?”

“I’m just here to pick the item up.” Donnie tried to explain.

“The item is a drink and a letter for you after you get your drink.” The bartender insisted.

Donnie sighed. “Something fruity with rum then.” Why the hell not. Fuck it, they failed again. He might as well drink off the thieves tab. He waited for the drink to arrive before he lifted the mask up a little just enough for him to be able to drink. He took a sip. Damn it was good. He snorted and shook his head. This whole thing was so ridiculous.

As he was in the middle of his order the bartender slipped him a cream coloured envelope with a red lacquer stamp on it. Classy.

He broke the seal and opened the envelope. He read the letter.

Donnie smiled and shook his head. "God damn it."

He turned on his comm, which earned him an earful from both Leo and Raph.

"Guys, she's going to be in New York next," he told them.

"How do you know?"

"She told me," he said, draining the rest of his glass.

V. Was he annoyed that she was stringing him along so much? Probably. Was he excited to finally snap some handcuffs around her wrists? So, so much.

It wasn’t easy to find her. The riddle this time was a bit more complex than the one for Egypt and Japan. Then there was the matter of actually finding her in the urban jungle that was New York.

But when he did… He didn’t tell his brothers. It was his little secret. He didn’t want anyone following him there. He slipped from the compound when everyone else was asleep. The coordinates led him to a red brick building with an industrial elevator.

Thermal scanner told him where she was. He took the stairs as the safer option and climbed. Quietly, like a ghost he entered the large open-space. The wooden floor creaked under his steps and a loud bird attacked him. The creature wasn’t from Earth. It neither cawed nor barked. The noise was offending to his ears nevertheless.

Then a whistle. He saw her standing a couple feet away from him. She extended her arm and the bird perched on it. It had a muzzle and sharp teeth like a dog. scales mixed with feathers and claw tipped wings, almost like a bat. The legs were birdlike all-right. A long tail wrapped around the thieves arm securing it in the spot.

<Hello,> she signed. <I see you finally found me> She smirked.

<Thanks for the hint,> he signed back.

<You welcome.> She stroked the bird’s head and it purred. With a flick of her elbow it flew into the air again and sat somewhere among the pipes.

<So, how do you want to do this?> She asked. <I got some weapons for you to choose from.>

<I brought my own.> He reached to his belt and pulled out his collapsible bō staff.

She regarded him with an appreciative nod. Then she walked up to the wall. She pressed on a brick and a panel dropped down revealing a collection of staffs, spears and other weapons. She picked two thich sticks.

<Escrima?> He asked and she grinned. He got it.

They charged at each other. Blow after blow, the weapons clashed. She was nimble and fast, using her environment to her advantage. He, with the experience from Egypt, handled her better. No more blows that went over her head. She had to block him, make an effort to evade.

He hoped whatever they broke during the fight wasn’t something priceless.

Finally, he had her against the wall. Adrenaline buzzing in his ears. He hasn't won yet though. He knew it. Her golden eyes bore into his. Suddenly, both dropped their weapons and their mouths clashed.

The morning came, brutally invading Donnie’s eyes. He groaned and stirred trying to avoid it. When he couldn’t quite move his arm he looked up. One of his hands was handcuffed to the headboard and he smirked remembering that particular move.

He looked around. Karaa was sitting on the bed, eating a breakfast roll and smiling at him. She reached out and released his arm, which got a bit stiff.

<You’ll need to get dressed, your brothers and major Douche will be here soon,> she signed, smiling her usual impish smile. <Have some breakfast.>

<So, I passed?> He grinned.

<You will get points deducted for teamwork probably but…> she leaned down to kiss him. <I will give you some bonuses for performance.> She wiggles her eyebrows with her best bedroom eyes.

He got lost in their kiss but pulled back when a thought occurred to him.

<You will help me find Splinter?>

They started communicating after Florence. They didn't know at first who they'd be going in the against exercise. It was all part of it. Karaa though she found out things. And also being trapped by the US military she didn't see any objections in helping the boys out.

<Oh, yeah. They will not know what hit them.>

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Bonus content!

*Text in Japanese above reads: "hello"

So I decided to do this one with the OG version of Kara.

Karaa (how the og spelling is, ye I know super original lol) was first created in 2014 as my Megamind OC. In the fandom we already had whole lot of Blue guys running around and... one Red, that came from desert part of the Meg's planet. I went like, so let's complete the traffic lights set and I made Karaa + the whole lore etc for jungle dwelling aliens of Megamind's planet.

This is how she'd look like. (art by Scarlette and Koda, I'm not sure of Scarlette's current handle it's been a while since 2014 XD)The earrings serve purpose also as disguise generators/cloaking devices.

Here's link to how Pi'ehra, her bird looks like.

I'll probably draw her tactical AU look soon!