#stump removal job

[chrisstumps05]

stumpsstump

[chrisstumpgrinding]

"Speedy Pine Stump Grinding: Conquering a Blown-Over Stump in 20 Minutes...

[factual-fantasy]

(Imp post in question) (Sleeping with hat on comic)

I haven't decided on what exactly Jevil did wrong.. But I'm thinking that a long time ago the Spade King cut his horns as a punishment for something..

Jevil is deeply embarrassed by his horn stumps.. so he never removes his hat around anyone other than Seam. The stumps are also rather sensitive to touch and cold temperatures. So keeping them covered by the hat not only keeps them warm, but also protects them from being touched or bumped in any way..

What really sucks about his hat situation though, is that Jevil hates his jester get up. All of it. But he cant deny that he needs his jester hat.. he's always on the look out for anything that can replace it. But its kind'a hard to find a hat that does the same job as his jester one, without being the same shape..

[38riku]

𝐁𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐓.𝟑 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🎂 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

includes pomefiore (separately). no warnings. fluff. i should've did this by dorm but i didn't think i'd make more than one part.

read part one. part two.

𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐓

you've come to wish me a happy birthday? heh, as you should. come, sing my praises now that my beauty has been tempered by another year of age.

it isn't unordinary for Vil to receive compliments. he's cemented himself in the limelight and his adoring fans never fail to comment on his beauty and talent.

so, when he jokingly (not so jokingly) asked you to sing his praises, he expected a sarcastic "your perfection is unattainable" or something along those lines.

but, of course, you managed to surprise him.

"you deserve everything your heart desires." what a cheesy line. it was a staple in romance movies that hasn't seemed to die out despite its repetition. he now knows why, albeit because it came from your lips and not that of someone just doing their job.

"and as your beauty matures each and every year, may your tenacity strengthen and elegant vigor continue to shine brightly."

Vil clicked his tongue, a ghost of a smile creeping on his face as he did his best to maintain his composure.

"I almost feel guilty that such heartfelt words are directed towards me and not a lover of yours."

You laughed, as if the thought of a lover was unbelievable. If only you were aware of the many admirers after your tender heart, would you still find it amusing?

"Don't be silly Vil. You're the fairest of them all, the only one worthy of these words."

You had him stumped. The way you said such things as if they held little to no weight.

For a moment, being the fairest of them all wasn't appealing. He is the fairest in your eyes, which amounted to more than you could ever imagine.

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓

merci! your dulcet tones are the greatest gift I could receive. you may consider your sentiments most appreciated.

rook was satisfied with your simple 'happy birthday' although it wasn't so simple to him. your smile was blinding, genuine glee filling your eyes as you greeted him with more joy than usual. to think the day of his birth elicited such excitement.

"i hope you like your present."

"any gift from you is a priceless treasure my dear. the mere fact that your thoughts were captivated by me makes my heart flutter."

he adored your flustered expression but wasn't interested in teasing you too much today. opening the large box, he audibly gasped at the sight. "you've truly outdone yourself. i am undeserving of such a magnificent piece."

he inspected the hat, humming in satisfaction at the handiwork and embroidery. a small chuckled fell from his lips as he heard your gentle sigh of relief.

walking toward you, he removed his usual hat and placed it on your head, wearing the new one it its stead. "we make a magnificent pair, do we not? even with a piece as fine as this my beauty is lackluster to yours."

"it's your birthday rook. i should be the one complementing you, not the other way around."

he laughed at that. your compassion and generosity made his heart soar to heights unknown.

"your beauty deserves to be appreciated no matter the occasion. your presence alone fills me with comfort. you have a voice that is sweeter than the chase of a hunt. i am inclined to speak on your physical appearance, but, I am unsure that you'd be able to handle such honeyed words."

after all the time you've known one another you still weren't used to his flattery. it's not his fault, you were positively stunning in every aspect of the word.

it's his day of celebration after all, and he'll spend it as he sees fit. surely you will allow him to fawn over you? he can't think of a better way to spend his birthday.

𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐑

you, ah, you want to celebrate my birthday? s-sorry, I'm not used to hearing that from anyone other than close family. thanks.

"tada! happy birthday!"

you removed your hands from his eyes, moving to stand in front of him with a knowing smile. "a feast fit for the birthday boy. well, a meal, since it's just the two of us."

yes, just the two of you. that's probably why his usually strict house warden was a bit more lenient with him missing an etiquette lesson.

hopefully he didn't think it was something more than two friends sharing a meal. that's all there is to it, right?

"thanks! this looks amazing."

"remember that takeout i shared with you and the guys not too long ago? it's the same place. i figured since you liked it so much we can try more stuff!"

golly, weren't you just a ball of sunshine. if he was to thank ace and deuce for anything (which isn't much) meeting you would be top on the list.

he couldn't remember the last time he was able to enjoy the simple pleasures in life like cheeseburgers, chicken tenders, fries, onion rings; but boy was it the most fulfilling meal of his life.

spending the evening with someone close to him, eating, joking around, and enjoying each other's company. you might not think it's much, but, the time you shared cured his home sickness, even for a little while.

it was his first time celebrating his birthday away from home after all.

"one more surprise." you place a finger on your lips, winking, before disappearing in the kitchen.

in your absence, he did his best to calm his beating heart. you laid it on thick and didn't even know it! don't you know where he's from, a meal is a way to a man's heart?

did you know that? was this a cover for blatantly pursuing him? no, there's no way, just wishful thinking on his end.

his thoughts came to a halt as you reappeared with a singular piece of pie in your hands and a candle. placing it in front of him, you quickly lit it, and ushered him to make a wish.

usually, he wishes for the same thing every year, but, just this once, he wished for something utterly selfish. something that, when he blowed the candle, he looked toward you sheepishly, denying to tell you because it "wouldn't come true."

one day it'll come true. one day, he'll be the apple of your eye, and sweep you off your feet.

© 2024 — 38riku. Do not copy or repost or plagiarize my work. All Rights Reserved.

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Super excited for the gymnastics championship in two months! I have three months to go on this pregnancy so I think I'll be pretty massive by the tournament but I've been doing all of my training with a weighted fake pregnant belly and I'm getting to the point where I can hardly find my center of gravity without a huge belly full of kids! So, I think I'll be able to handle this no problem! Wish me luck! Just making a quick post before I see my doctor, no routine today. But I should get a nice update on how my latest brood is doing! See you guys soon!"

Edit: "OK. Um, holy crap.... I can finally write to you guys. I don't really know how to make content yet anymore but I can edit this post and finally give an update, as I've been gone two weeks. Soooo I went in for my checkup and the nurse prepped me to be put under for surgery. I asked why and they told me they need to check something. I asked what and they said to relax and not worry.... I went along with it, of course.

I woke up in the ER with my arms and legs amputated just above where my knees and elbows were, perfectly symmetrical. I knew this style of amputation, it's what those TikTok Influencer girls get done. You keep your thighs so you can sit up, and your upper arms so you have 'handlebars' for guys to use. I recognized it right away. I looked around and saw my limbs were gone. I was naked, propped up in a hospital bed, no sheets over me, just my bandaged stumps. There was a cute blonde girl in the bed next to me, a giant pregnant belly, big boobs dripping milk. She looked me up and down and congratulated me on getting my limbs removed as well, excitedly telling me she was doing it for her boss to get promoted.

I told her I didn't want my limbs removed. That's when a gorgeous tanned Asian girl to my left spoke up, pregnant, propped up, her breasts were really big and fake, round, the size of soccer balls. She told me she was coming in for some lip filler but woke up an hour ago with no arms or legs. I was slightly anxious but soon the nurse came in and talked to me. I asked why they removed my limbs. She squinted at my chart and asked me, 'Oh, you didn't want your limbs removed? Are you sure?'

'Yes!' I told her. 'I never asked to become an amputee.'

'Hold on, let me double check this chart against your file.'

She left for a while, when she came back I asked, 'Well? Why did you guys remove my limbs, I'm a gymnast!' But she walked right by me to the Asian girl, telling her that her limbs were removed because she starred in several adult movies, and the doctor figured the amputations would boost her career. She blushed and accepted this reason, trying to rub her thighs together in a pathetic attempt to masturbate.

The nurse returned to my bed and told me there was a mix up with my chart and they accidentally amputated my arms and legs. She smiled, putting a hand on my belly. 'My, you're the size of a house, and I think you look even more gorgeous with your arms and legs chopped off, but that's just one woman's opinion! You should be happy, guys are gonna go nuts seeing you all helpless like this.'

She had a point, but I was still outraged. 'I'm a professional gymnast who has a tournament coming up. I can't perform without my arms and legs!'

"So sorry to hear that! I do apologize for this minor mix up. But you have to admit the surgeon did a great job. You look absolutely incredible! Tell you what, I'll talk to the front desk and we'll let you stay here for free until we get you acclimated to using a wheelchair and ocular software on your laptop or phone. Don't you worry, we'll get this little mishap sorted!'

She left for a while. Eventually the Asian girl's porno agent stopped in with a group of guys and filmed her getting gang fucked in the ER recovery area. The director eventually noticed me, naked and limbless, asking if I was that cute pregnant gymnast who went to the Olympics last year. I said I was, and without warning he started filming me getting fucked by these muscular, roided up porn actors, absolutely brutalizing my holes, as the blonde next to me giggled in delight, telling me how sexy I looked getting pounded like a big helpless pregnant slab of meat. I moaned like a whore, never so turned on in my life, I came over and over. The nurse walked in after two hours and turned right back around, saying, 'I can see you're busy, I'll come back later,' to the pregnant gymnast who had her limbs removed without her permission, only to be filmed getting gang raped while in recovery, drooling with her eyes rolled back from cumming so much.

The porno agent eventually finished filming, grabbed his card, folded it into a bulky cylindrical container the width of a soda can, and shoved it into my pussy, telling me he'd love to sign me on full time. The nurse came back the next morning. The Asian girl and I were sweaty, a total mess, having pissed ourselves a few times, completely untended to. The nurse scolded us for being so messy, as she showed us how to use the ocular software, and eventually helped us learn to use a wheelchair. I control mine with my left stump and my mouth, breathing into a special control device like a little harmonica. I eventually learned to call my real agent, my friends and family, and now I'm here, discharged. And guess what? I owe the hospital $720,560 for my stay, as well as the physical therapy, software lessons, and the amputations themselves. Naturally.... I've called the porno agent and am already signed on to start filming this weekend. I've got to pay off all this debt somehow! Plus hopefully soon I'll figure out how to post new content! I guess I'll need help..... I might need to hire a nurse or something. Maybe someone willing to help upload my porno vids? Oh, and I should call the hospital and see about getting implants as big as that sexy Asian girl I spent my stay next to! What's a little bit more debt? If I'm doing porn I might as well go all out. And I'm sure none of you mind my new career change, do you? ❤️"

[m1d-45]

dancing soldiers

summary: meka are infallible. meka do not stray from their path.. except when they do.

word count: ~2k

-> warnings: spoilers for fontaine (name and mechanics of open world boss)

-> gn reader (you/yours) and aether as traveller

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd

< masterlist >

fontaine was known for a wide variety of things, from their ornate fountains to the elaborate clothing it seemed nobody was without. any visitors from other nations were greeted by sweeping architecture and the sound of bubbling fonta, and swimming was a must. but even through the shine of the great lake, their fantastical clockwork meka was definitely the star of the show. every traveller was quickly starstruck by the machines roaming the streets, fitted uniforms not masking the clunking of gears within their chests. even underwater, scanning for raiders and filtering the water, keeping the water clear and cool. faceless, cold, employed both privately and for government work, the perfect tool for their job. they had one job, and they did it well.

meka were designed to protect. to guard. to defend their charge, whether that presented as patrolling a barge of merchants or leading the blind through the winding streets of the city. powered by indemnitium and equipped with efficient charging ports, every meka is intended to outlast their creators. few actually do, whether weakened by arkhe or attacked by those opposing their duty, but it remains a fact that they stick to their orders until the last spark fades from their circuits.

they are perfect workers. they do not disobey, they do not stray from their task. their actions are calculated in a split second, every movement taken to further their given goal.

lead.

support.

shield.

“dance!”

maillardet threw aside the screwdriver in his hand in frustration, kicking at the frost gathering in the arena. behind him, unmoving, were his magnum opus… though they refused to move.

“dance, dance. what’s the point of you?”

they did not dance. they did not move. they stood, hand in hand, one beside the other. coppelius and coppelia, the only signs of life being the frosty wind that would occasionally sweep by. they were in standby, with deflated skirts and unmoving hydraulics. normally, them being still would make maintenance easier, but their plates did not move as they should. he couldn’t even remove coppelius’ hat.

it was convenient, just not for him.

“looks to paimon like might just be the fault of poor design.” you watched from between the hairline gap in coppelia’s skirt, seeing paimon cross her arms. your traveller was stumped as well, merely shrugging.

“theyre infused with opposite arkhe,” aether said simply. “maybe they finally reacted with each other?”

“that’s impossible! the arkhe is held within them, far from where the other could react with it, and only one of them are externally charged at any one time.”

“so… why not reset them? paimon remembers one of the melusines saying that most meka around the city just need to be reset from time to time.”

“in those cases, the meka are given conflicting orders, typically by children. all these two need to do is dance, and-“ his voice choked, aether and paimon moving out of your field of vision to presumable comfort him. you try to shift and see, but coppelia’s skirt twitches inward, keeping you where you are.

you’re sheltered between the two meka, coppelius’ cape-thing making up for the gaps in coppelia’s skirt. you were lucky you hadn’t been seen yet, truthfully… but you didn’t want to stress out maillardet.

“what am i supposed to do?” he asked, words shaky. “i promised the chief justice i’d keep them functional for the divine one, and now- you know what they’re like, and they’re both broken-“

“h-hey, it’s okay! paimon’s certain you’ll get them working again! besides, they still seem to be functional, right?” she flies up, and you flinch at the knock of her hand on metal. it echoes around you, much louder than it should be in your hiding space. “oof, still as cold as ever…

“you should just restart it.”

“are you sure? what if something goes wrong? i can’t even perform maintenance, what if i can’t turn them back on after? you know how they acted last time—if lady furina wasn’t there, then..”

“..it’s better than nothing. besides-“ metal skidded over ice, and you see the flicker of aether’s boot as he kicks the discarded screwdriver back near maillardet’s bag of tools. “-you could always just not put them in stand-by. if they’re broken like this, just leave them dancing. i doubt they’ll notice, and it’ll buy you time until they want to visit again.”

”yeah! you only have a handful of hours until they arrive in fontaine, and it’s not like anything worse can happen!”

“i..” he sighed, and a long moment passed. “i guess trying is worse than doing nothing..”

“that’s the spirit!”

your hands twitch into fists, only partly from the cold. the ‘god’ they spoke of so highly, the one that got you into this mess… who were they, anyway? even you didn’t blame maillardet for needing maintenance between fights, but from his fear it sounded like they’d kill him for a malfunction.

you put those thoughts aside, pressing close to coppelia’s core as the meka were powered down. both of them slumped forward, a shift in their plating allowing a cold wind in. you shivered, and briefly considered praying before deciding against it—what god would answer?

gears clicked and switches flipped, both meka making various hisses. the elemental power seeping from both of them slowly ceased, and your heart picked up. how would this end? after a reset, would they remember to hide you? or would you get crushed beneath their skates as they danced?

“…you two should leave the arena.”

“why?”

“is something wrong?”

“no, but if they begin to dance again, i don’t want you to get hurt.”

“what about you? let me do it, i’m more experienced with combat.”

“it’s alright. in the early stages of their development, they didn’t even have a standby mode, so i’m used to repairing them while they’re dancing. don’t worry, i can get the memory you need unharmed.”

memory?

their memory? when aether had first approached, you’d assumed the ‘sabotage’ maillardet was talking about was the fact that neither of the meka would move. it made sense to want the memory to show which direction the saboteur left in, but that memory would show you, the most hated person in all of teyvat, and the melusine that had helped you hide from the gardes. veleda… you couldn’t let her take the fall for whatever crime you’d committed. she didn’t deserve that.

you take a breath, preparing to make a run over it, when you hear a small click. all at once, coppelia’s skirt snaps back to it’s normal formation, and you catch a glimpse of the traveller’s shocked expression before you’re pulled up and away. coppelius pulls you into his arms, coppelia smoothy following, spinning circles around the two of you like a top. when the two you skid to a stop near the edge of the arena, you quickly get your bearings, only mildly motion sick from the ordeal. maillardet is sitting in the middle of the arena, knocked off his feet beside his tools, and aether and paimon stand on the pathway leading back to the fountain. nobody says anything for a good few moments, the silence tense.

“…at least we know where they went?” paimon asks nervously, and aether draws his sword. coppelia sweeps in front of you and coppelius as he begins to walk towards you, and maillardet quickly gets up. he briefly slips on the icy floor, but quickly intercepts him, his words barely audible.

“traveller, the meka-”

“was tampered with.” his voice is cold, and you shiver at the weight of his glare. “don’t worry, i got it.”

“listen to me, please. coppelius and coppelia follow all the standard guidelines for meka-”

“this isn’t about you!” he shouts, “this is about something much more important then your meka!” his sword points at you, a shining blade despite the name. “this is about a crime too large for your opera house to handle.”

coppelius holds you tighter. the sound of his anger- of his hate makes your heart burn as it sinks, leaving an empty pit. you knew fontaine wasn’t the best at justice, but…

“traveller, have you ever read the machining requirements for battle meka?”

“why is this relevant? why am i talking to you?” he pushes off his hand and begins to walk, leaving paimon behind. after a moment, she gasps loudly, rushing forward to pull on his braid.

“wait! freminet lent paimon his copy of those guidelines once! she knows what maillardet means!”

“so what?”

your twin meka begin to slowly skate away from aether as he nears, ignoring paimon. maillardet is looking through his bag, searching for something, but all you can see are the traveller’s eyes. your traveller’s eyes, all your months of gameplay boiling into his rage.

maybe if the circumstances were different you’d forgive him for being so angry, but as it stands you’re barely convinced you’ll live through the hour.

“one of the clauses was about a special line of code that all the battle-capable mekas had to have- stop walking and listen!”

“how does that connect to this? don’t you care for our god? why are you stopping me?”

“because it’s about our god! don’t you remember? navia told you when we stayed with the spina de rosula!”

he does stop, then, staring paimon down instead. “fine. what is it?”

she lets go of his braid, waving a hand between the icewind suite and maillardet as she talks. “mekas have a special override wired into them in the case that the abyss got ahold of them which shuts down their combat functions when faced with the creator! it’s weaker when triggered through their vessels—which is why their attacks are limited instead of stopped—but is mandatory for every meka that’s combat ready, including coppelia and coppelius!”

aether turns to you, conflicted. you still carried in coppelius’ arms, you hidden under the plating of coppelia’s skirt, you who made the meka disobey their creator. you, the creator of those that made them.

“…maillardet?”

“it’s true, cease your fire.” he lifts a plain notebook from his bag, not that aether turns to see it. “i have my maintenance notes here. that override was the first thing i added, even before i gave them their weaponry. let’s bring our findings to the iudex and let our lord relax. please.”

aether’s sword dissolves into dust, a mix of shock and confusion still lingering on his face as he’s pulled away by paimon’s hand on his shoulder. maillardet packs his things and follows, taking some time to pick his way through the frosted floor. once the arena is cleared, coppelius skates to the center, setting you down carefully. then, he takes coppelia’s hand in his, leading her away. they begin their dance around you, gears clicking with elaborate pirouettes, leaving you in the middle of it all to wonder what just happened.

[yoitsjay]

Bestie when I tell you your fast and for what Tech got me feelin some kind of way 😳🫣🤤 like girl please the Tech community is T H I R S T Y!!!! Anyway love your work 💕💗💘 if your not doing anything could I request a Crosshair x y/n who is a former Jedi experiencing love for the first time? Hope you have a good day or night 👋🏼

Omg thank you! So nice to hear good feedback on the fics I write 🤭 I absolutely love your idea, so here we go! Hopefully I did ok, this one kind of stumped me

Yeah?... Good

Pairings: Crosshair x gn jedi! Reader

Summary: you had left the order when you realized how corrupt it became. But your past keeps chasing you and now you find yourself feeling things you've never felt before for a certain clone who doesn't even know you were a jedi... or does he?

Warnings: crosshair kinda loves u right away cuz your so awesome. Yoda is your previous master, white lightsaber, crystal cleansing, italics is a flashback

Word count: 2099

“The Jedi had become so corrupt! We used to be peacekeepers! Now all we do is fight in wars and lead good men to their deaths! I will not be a part of an order that partakes in such violence!”

Those were the last words you had said to the jedi council, before leaving. You left your whole life behind, and had to pick up a new life and build it from scraps.

You tried many things, regular jobs in the city, mechanical work, ship maintenance. Eventually you had saved up enough credits to leave Coruscant and you did, and you had hoped you would never return but you had picked up bounty work, as much as you hated it, and it was bringing you back to Coruscant.

The bounty was actually put up by the republic, a call for extra aid. You were to meet a small batch of elite clones, complete a retrieval mission in separatist space, and return to Coruscant. Returning to this dreaded planet, but as long as nobody recognized you, you would be fine.

You were wearing a decent amount of armor, and a helmet that covered your entire head. It had a voice modulator so if you needed to speak your voice would be distorted. But your end goal was to say as little words as possible.

When you arrived in front of the GAR, you noticed several different ships but one really stood out. It was an omicron class attack shuttle but it looked modified. It was interesting since you had never seen a ship like that before when you were a jedi.

You continued analyzing the exterior of the ship, keeping a decent distance as you were still waiting on a pickup or for someone to come greet you.

“Ain’t she pretty?” A voice called out, and you turned your head slightly. You noticed this man was a clone, but with several different cybernetics, and a scomp on his left arm. You nodded, turning away from the ship to face the man, realizing that more people, helmeted and in clone armor, were standing behind him.

This must have been the elite clone squad.

“You must be the bounty-”

“mercenary.” You cut off, your modulator transforming your voice as it spoke, making it deeper, and more crackly. The cyber man nodded, turning to look at his brothers. “This is the rest of clone force 99, our leader is Sergeant Hunter, and beside him are Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker.” He introduced, pointing to each individual as he said their names.

You nodded again. stepping forward to extend your hand. The men had removed their helmets, and you could see their brief surprise before Hunter shook your hand. And then you extended your hand to Crosshair, who stared at you before scoffing.

You rolled your eyes but lowered your hand. “Y- Spectre.” You spoke up, almost using your name instead of your codename, which you had quickly corrected.

You had picked the name specter since as a mercenary or bounty hunter, you tended to disappear in plain sight, and stir chaos without being seen.

It was probably because of the modifications in your armor, you had a device built into your suit that allowed you to camoflauge no matter where you went,so you basically became invisible when you needed too

“Alright Spectre… We’ll brief you on the mission on the Marauder.” Hunter spoke up and you nodded, staying behind for only a few seconds as they walked forward. Crosshair roughly shoulder checked you as he walked past, but you only glared, giving him no satisfaction of seeing a reaction.

The ship was smaller than any ship you’ve been on, but it seemed to hold five people nicely enough. Once the ship lifted off, Echo had informed the council that they picked up the aid. Yoda was on the transmission, and he stared at you, despite not seeing you… like he could sense your presence.

“Sense something familiar I do… trust the operative, i suggest.” Ypda stated, looking back at Echo. “May the force be with you. Echo.” Yoda finished before the transmission ended. A sigh escaped your lips, but was not heard by the others.

Soon everyone was called into the cockpit, and Hunter pulled up a hologram of… your planet?

You were born on an outer rim separatist planet, your family knew how strong with the force you were, so they had smuggled you off world and basically shipped you to Coruscant and to the Jedi temple. You were only a child, but you always remembered where you came from… But at the time you didn’t understand why they just gave you up. Until you saw the war first hand with your master.

Yoda.

Of course he could sense you, even through a damn hologram. And now you were returning home, to a planet under heavy siege.

You clenched your fists, but zoned into the briefing, not knowing that Crosshair was examining you, seeing you tense up, and breathe a little heavier before clenching your hands and calming down.

There was something about you, something that he couldn’t place.

“So our mission is to destroy the droid factories to limit their creation so Yoda’s battalion can swoop in and take Rystone for the republic. Specter, we’ve been told you can camouflage, and you're highly trained in stealth. So you and Crosshair will be a team and will sneak inside the factory to plant charges along the main support columns.” Hunter explained, and you nodded briefly.

He then went on to task the others, and soon you were readying your weapons. You carried a blaster, and a longer vibroblade that wasn't quite a sword, but wasn’t a standard knife either. You also placed several throwing knives on different points of your armor, having mini knife holsters strapped pretty much between every armor plate.

Crosshair watched you while cleaning his rifle. He couldn’t tell if you were male, or female. Not like it mattered he liked both. But the way your aura had been drawing him in, he almost felt bad shoulder checking you earlier.

Almost.

Once you were done you turned to look at him, tilting your head. “Will you take that helmet off?” He asked, and you shook your head. “No.” You replied swiftly, and Crosshair hummed. “You like knives?” He then asked, and you nodded. “Easier to use than a blaster.” You huffed.

In truth you would much rather use lightsabers. But that was a luxury you couldn’t have any longer.

Soon the Marauder landed on Rystone, and you all made your way to the city, splitting up into groups once you breached the wall. Crosshair led the way to the droid factory, and you did your best to ignore the surroundings of your home planet. But it felt like the force was trying to pull you in a specific direction.

You pushed it away, focusing on the mission as a grunt left your lips. Now comes your part in the mission. You grabbed several charges, leaving the rest with crosshair as your armor and weapons camouflaged and blended in with your surroundings.

You ran, slightly crouched, placing a charge and setting it at every column like you were instructed to Crosshair did what he needed too, and eventually you ran into him again. You disabled the camo and followed him up to a safe vantage point.

Crosshair commed Hunter and told him the charges were set before he turned to look at you, crouched and studying the area. “Why’d you become a mercenary?” He drawled out, and you glanced at him before mulling over your answers.

“Money.” You settled, it was a typical answer, not entirely a lie but not a full truth either. And even with the modulator-

“Hey! intruders!” A droid suddenly shouted, breaking you and Crosshair from what you could assume was a conversation. You grabbed a throwing knife, jumping to avoid blaster fire as you twisted in the air, throwing your knife towards the droid, subtly using the force to direct the blade which landed right into the droid's head. But the alarms were already pulled.

You ran towards the other droids,picking up the knife from the dead droid as you started slicing the other ones. Crosshair laid cover fire if you needed it, but the way you were cutting the droids like butter?

He was kind of in awe of your skill.

Until a droid had grabbed you by your neck, its punch knocking your helmet off your head and onto the ground. Crosshair was too occupied shooting at the droids advancing towards him, but you managed to get out of the droid's grip, slicing its wiring with a secret blade on your wrist.

You fell to the ground, gasping for air as you gripped your throat. The explosions then went off and you winced, But Crosshair was by your side and he was gently helping you to your feet. “I’m okay.” You choked out, ignoring the look he gave you. “yeah?... good.” He muttered, keeping his hand on the small of your back just for a moment before he pulled away.

Hunter then came over the coms and told Crosshair and you to meet at the rondevu point. So from there Crosshair led you out of the droid factory, taking out whatever droids remained from the explosions.

You had tried looking for your helmet but it was knocked over the edge when you were fighting that bigger droid. Crosshair had been… admiring? no, but he was definitely staring at you, analyzing your features that had now been revealed to him.

He thought you were gorgeous. You had a few scars littered across your face but he liked that, he prefered people who weren't afraid to take hits and then wore their scars without being ashamed.

Soon you reached the rondevu point, and the other clones’ eyes widened when they saw you without your helmet, but what was most surprising was that Yoda was standing beside them, a smile on his face almost.

“Ah, I had a feeling it was you, I did… Young one.” Yoda spoke up. You glanced around nervously before allowing yourself to one knee. “Master…” You trailed off, but his tiny hand reached out, and rested on yours. He comforted you, with such a simple gesture. “Strong with the force, you still are. Practicing, have you?” He asked, and you chuckled, nodding with a smile.

Hearing this, Crosshair and the rest of the bad batch were flabbergasted. You were once a jedi, let alone Yoda’s padawan?

regardless they didn’t interrupt, just staring, waiting.

Just then, Yoda pulled out your lightsaber, a dual saber which was your preferred stance. But something was wrong…

“So much anger, you had for the council. Your saber, connected to you it was. For years, it fed on your hate.” Today explained, opening the saber to reveal a red Kyber crystal.

“No longer a jedi, perhaps. But a peacekeeper, you are.” He stated, and you used the force to hold the lightsaber. You closed your eyes, and sighed.

The red of your once vibrant blue crystal started fading, as you let go… of all that sadness and frustration that you held. You cleansed the crystal, until it was white. You then closed up the saber, and it landed in your hands.

“Right you were, always… young padawan.”Yoda spoke up, looking around. “Sense something evil, i do. Trust in the force, and in your new friends, yes?” Yoda asked, and you nodded, standing up to your feet before looking at Crosshair, who had a light smirk playing on his face.

“hell yeah! Do we get a jedi?!” Wrecker exclaimed, pumping his fists in the air with a grin. You looked down at Yoda, who chuckled. You spoke up. “Not quite, but if you’ll have me… i would love to stay.” You stated, and Hunter nodded slowly. “With the way Crosshair looks at you like a piece of candy that should be no problem.” He teased his brother, and you smiled, nodding to Yoda.

“Take back your home, we will.” he stated, and walked away. You sighed, staring down at the lightsaber before you ignited it. one blade at a time.

The white blades hummed with emotion, emotion you channeled and let go as needed.

Not a jedi, not anymore… But a protector of the light. A lover, a fighter, a person.

With a family…

and boy did Crosshair ever make your life exciting.

Even as he tried to kill you on Kaller, now that was fun.

➺

Tag list:

Crosshair:

@nyctophobiart

Tbb:

@moomoog017 @only-my-unexistent-fiances

[bibbibib]

Peeta's amputation

One of the things I really wish we'd gotten more information for in the books was the impact of Peeta losing his leg. On himself, on his habits, his reactions, anything really. We don't even know how badly he took it because around that time all Katniss was able to describe was him (understandably) being just happy to have survived it all along with her, plus he was putting on a brave face throughout the interviews, and maybe even in front of her so she would feel less guilty. And, I get it, most of the stuff I'm going to mention is just slice of life and maybe not that important as plot points, but I find them super interesting, for the perspective if anything.

Would Peeta's self-esteem take another deep dive after that? With everything happening during that time (moving out of his parents' house, his falling out with Katniss, being viewed differently by the rest of the district, living alone and possibly lonely, his romantic hopes crushed, PTSD from the Games, etc etc etc) he had a lot of triggers seemingly supporting those thoughts of being useless and uneeded and generally not good enough.

It's so frustrating to lose a limb and have to basically relearn everything from the beginning. How to navigate stairs, how to get in and out of a sitting position, how to balance and not tip over, stuff you've been doing esentially your whole life. And Peeta was athletic, he worked manually, he trusted himself to be capable of doing physical things, so that might have hurt a little more.

How about medical complications? From weird sensations to nerve pain, possibly phantom pains, everything related to his prosthetic leg (which, depending on the type, can get uncomfortable in sooo many ways, especially since he's still a teenager who's growing). And he was dumped at a place with basically no medical care at all, let alone anything specialized. Which, ok, was part of everyone's life in D12 already, but it must have still left a bitter taste... There was no one around to know much about his state, (exept maybe Ripper the liquor seller) and he had to make do on his own.

What if the Capitol had chosen his prosthetic more for aesthetic functions and less for functional? @whenthewallfell has a fantastic post about it, complete with illustrations!

Peeta's artificial foot getting tangled in the vines in the second arena and impeding his ability to run was no funny business. With prosthetic legs, there's usually different kinds for different functions. Your average foot people use to be able to walk is stiff and does a horrible job at supporting these sorts of activities. That's why equipment like running blades exists for amputees who want to be running and jumping. And you have to switch to that before the activity! Peeta apparently never got one. Even if he had, he would have to carry the alternative equipment around in the arena.

Speaking of that, even with a single type of artificial leg/foot, adjustments are frequently needed throughout the day. Most people as far as I understand remove the prosthetic to sleep, but also ball -and-socket models at least move around and need to be put back in place because it gets uncomfortable (sleeves -stump covers- sliding down, etc). The fact that Katniss never mentioned anything like this means that either he was actively not doing it in front of her or she just doesn't wanna talk about it (or maybe his leg is some fancy Capitol tech that doesn't work that way?)

Also, he's got to be hungry. All the time. He needs more food after the amputation, because the rest of his body is compensating for the lost limp and he has to use different muscles/nerves/tendons/etc. that are not designed spesifically for this. The same thing means he gets tired more easily. So Peeta being that active and training for the Quarter Quell while battling insomnia and nightmares with an amputated leg? Even harder than we thought.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Shamura meeting a spider s.o who isn't really apart of the cult and lives the life of a traveler but visits from time to time and members consider her to be a 'big sister' and people love to come to her for advice...

like she'll be pulling pieces of debris, leaves, twigs, pieces of mushroom, etc. from the lambs wool (which she had lectured him about a few minutes prior like "Lamb, you got this in your wool AGAIN?? I will not allow you to continue to talk to people when you basically have a FOREST in your wool, sit down and let me help you.") and Shamura is there and I feel like they have real deep conversations, maybe s.o telling him their story after a while, how they think that they might be from the Silk Cradle but aren't sure because they were taken when they were young and raised in the mountains ... just a little thing i thought abt haha

"I-I can assure you, [y/n]..I don't need-"

"Oh no, you absolutely do need this." You tutted as you made Lamb sit down on a tree stump, picking bits of mushrooms and leaves out of their wool.

They winced as you harshly tugged on a twig that was especially embedded in it, casting it aside once it was plucked free. "I need to do my morning sermon," they grumbled. "Can this wait until-?"

"There's still a few more hours till noon. I will not have you walk up to that podium with your wool being a literal Anurian forest! How do you keep letting it get this bad anyways?"

"I-"

"Actually..don't answer that."

"But...!!! Ugh, fine." With a pout, the Lamb sat with their cheeks puffed out, remembering that they couldn't order you around...as you weren't one of their followers. So you didn't have to abide by any of their rules.

You were a nomadic spider who traveled all across the Old Faith. Your heart desired adventure, but every once in a while it would lead you back to these temple grounds, and you'd witness Lamb's cult growing steadily with each visit.

When they weren't around, their followers would flock to you, having grown accustomed to your frequent appearances. You carried a lot of knowledge during your travels, so you'd share stories of your recent journeys and offer advice to those who asked for it.

Whether it's about something personal or just how to navigate through a domain safely, you had plenty of answers for most of them. Some followers even looked up to you as a sister, which made you happy.

The most important part of your visit, however, was ensuring Lamb looked their best before they went to preach in the temple. You always caught them after they return from crusades, finding them covered in earthly debris without a care in the world.

If this new "god" of the lands wanted to be taken more seriously...they had to look presentable to their followers.

But even so, they were quite the fussy one; stubborn like a child: Bleating constantly, kicking their hooves, and sometimes even demonically hissing if you suggest they removed their crown for a moment.

They only acted that way because Narinder saw you preening their wool once and mocked his former vessel until your glare shooed him away.

Fortunately, Lamb chose not to argue with you any further, making your job easier to finish.

It took a few more minutes, but their wool finally looked a lot better, so you sent them on their way to preach the Red Crown's gospel after bidding them farewell.

Whatever debris you plucked out of them went into a bag of silk you've crafted for yourself. Surely you can do something with the twigs, leaves, mushroom stems, and pumpkin seeds they carried back to the cult grounds--you couldn't let any of that go to waste.

"Greetings, traveler. Back so soon?"

The familiar voice made you perk up, looking to see Shamura standing there with a book in their hands. It seemed to be one from Silk Cradle, detailing trap layouts and designs.

You smiled. "Hello, Lord Shamura. And yes. I like to come and go as I please."

".....forgive me, but your name slips past me.."

"It's [y/n]."

"..ah yes, yes...Sister [Y/n]. Welcome back." They bowed their head politely. "I do have a question, if you have the time."

"Of course." You nodded, before frowning as you noticed the somewhat troubled look on their face. "What ails you?"

"...hm?" They blinked. "Do I look sick?"

"Oh, no. I mean..your expression. I've seen it on other followers, and it's usually because something's weighing heavily on their mind-"

"Why call me "lord" if you have not served under me?" Shamura abruptly interrupted, confused as their gaze went to the open book in their hands. "I have seen many spiders in Silk Cradle...but none quite like yourself. If only I could remember..were you a servant? A warrior? A merchant...?"

The more they struggled to recall, the more ichor began leaking through their bandages. And you could see it was physically paining them, too.

It made you wonder how they ever survived losing the Purple Crown, but then again it probably took a miracle from the Lamb to give them a fighting chance--a second chance.

Even so, you felt bad for Shamura. Their memory gaps kept widening despite their desperation to remember things and continue reading.

"Oh dear..allow me to hold that for you." You gently took the book away from them before the liquid could splatter all over the cover, closing it up. "I didn't grow up in Silk Cradle, but I'm sure I was born there. I only remember being taken up to the mountains..perhaps my family became deserters who disliked the violence."

"Hm...under my ruling, deserters would have been swiftly found and jailed."

"I see-"

"No, no..that's not it...they...would have been swiftly found, tried in my court, and publicly executed." They corrected themselves, huffing. "My apologies."

"...oh. Then I guess I'm glad we weren't ever found out." You awkwardly chuckled, having much preferred what they said before. "It seems your memory has been improving since the last time we met."

"Yes, indeed...indeed it is.." Shamura nodded, before you both heard the tolls of the temple bell, signaling that it was time for the sermon. "The Lamb calls..they are speaking now." They looked to you. "Shall we go together, [y/n]?"

"Sure." With a smile, you linked arms with them. "But as a fair warning, I tend to hang around the back and just listen."

"As do I, my friend...as do I." A tiny smile formed between their fangs. "I hope Lamb's wool isn't covered in earthly vermin anymore."

"It's clean as a whistle." You reassured, smiling back at them, before you two headed towards the temple.

Perhaps you'll stay here in the cult for the rest of the day. Just to spend a little more time with Shamura.

You enjoyed the company of a fellow arachnid.

[osakanone]

Would you amputate my limbs while I screamed for you to stop and shove me in a mech pilot “training” pod

Technically, no. Obviously, yes...?

I don't operate in an SEZ, so I don't get to waive your rights:

That's your job.

Your limbs in question would be cuffed, removed, carted off to be bio-supported for the duration of any such training in prep for restoration post-removal.

This is of course in conjunction with a formal contract drawn up, which defaults to you getting the limbs back or equivalent compensation if you don't present me with enthusiastic consent within three months or less.

That said...

Given the sheer amount of stuff you've signed to let us pump your nervous-system with...

The pattern/depattern training of your nervous-system retraining all of your associative responses... What makes you turn your head... What gets you excited, what gets your blood pumping...

The cultured augmentation of your default mode network... The kinds of things you dream about... The way you feel about fear on a fundamental level... (death-fetishization isn't uncommon, but this kind of reward-hacking is undesirable for obvious reasons).

This of course usually requires a traumatic event for maximum effect.

Essentially, that you start calling your concept of body into question keeps the mind nimble and flowing, which is why you're not out for the detachment procedure.

The affected areas are:

intraperital region (back of your head),

basal ganglia (right in the middle through the ear),

presupplementary motor area (up top toward the front),

premotor cortex (Same again),

and cerebellum connecting them together.

I've heard the recovery of the procedure described as that pleasant drunken feeling during high altitude, with a deep dread knowing something is wrong as all your bits are doggie-bagged up, sprayed down and then put in the preservation tank for later.

A paralytic agent is obviously helpful here, but in theory, we do kind of need you awake for some elements of the keyhole micro-craniotomy and follow-up cell conditioning so you're wide awake and physical for the whole procedure.

I genuinely don't think you're capable of not giving enthusiastic consent, and the numbers back that up.

What you won't see in the brochure is that the contract is largely a formality, which I'm not really supposed to tell you but you did ask nicely.

Technically you power of attorney returns to you after the first 90 days of intrasystem training, and you get the final say.

So many have insisted they have the willpower to know if they do or not.

That they'd be different, or special or beat the training some how.

Some are excited they can get a few free adaptations, or think they're setup for a future career as a freelancer with a full kitout.

A few even bet their debts on it.

In theory, you absoloutely have the opportunity to say no...

But reality doesn't work out that way.

This is of course assuming you weren't sold to us, or that you aren't being recycled as part of population management of a colony somewhere.

So, I'm guessing you have questions about the procedure or the pod?

The pod and attachment is pretty bog standard stuff.

Zygomatic projector (a fancy laser which draws pictures on your retina, attached to your cheekbones).

DARYL-cuff-stump attachment model

Infared braincell attachment for read

Writeback with bio-radio cellular response for cognitive monitoring

A nice tight shock harness suit with vacuum seal, and G-force compression.

Any further specialization tends based on whatever role you're spec'd for.

For the record, no I don't have any long-term bio-storage for anything we'd remove from you. We did for a long time, but it sat unused, so we just increased our uptake rate to make use of them.

Look forward to hearing from you.

[chrisstumps05]

How to grind a stump in dusty environment

[chrisstumpgrinding]

How long will the stump grinding process take?

[ghostlykeyes]

Hello. I like your Heartsteel writings c: I just got my wisdom tooth removed today so can I ask a hc or anything for Aphelios taking care of an s/o? 😊

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HEARTSTEEL APHELIOS / SICK READER ♡ Gender Neutral ♡ No TW's ♡ Quick note that I don't usually write for Aphelios (requests aren't open for him) but who am I to turn away a recovering patient??? (Hope you're feeling better/healing well my dear!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

APHELIOS

When it comes to taking care of a recovering partner, Aphelios has learned from the best. He thinks back to the last time he had the flu and uses Alune's three-day-nurse-stint as a blueprint. Whatever you need, he's ready to silently offer it. Cold cloth for your head? Done. Pain meds? He's got your dosages measured out and your favorite drink on hand to wash it down. Cuddles? Don't even mention it. He's already in bed, cocooning you both in fresh-washed blankets still warm from the dryer. And, if worst comes to worst and one of your requests stumps him, he can always text his sister to come in as backup.

Aphelios doesn't cook often, but when you're bedridden and in need of a good, comforting meal he comes in clutch. He makes a mean galbitang, and he'll even spoon-feed it to you if you give him your best puppy eyes and whine, "pleeeeeeeease, Phel, I'm too weak to eat by myself." (Not without an affectionate eye-roll, of course.) Besides that, he makes sure the freezer is well-stocked with popsicles and other cold, easy-to-digest food that will soothe you. Making sure Sett and Kayn don't eat it all, well, that's another issue entirely...

Aphelios hates to let a good prank opportunity go to waste, but if you're sick or recovering? You're safe. He wouldn't dream of harassing you while you're feeling less than your best (even if it's all in good fun). Expect to be teased extra when you are feeling better, though!

Keeping you clean and comfortable is a top priority for Aphelios. One of his most-hated things about being stuck in bed is how quickly he starts to feel grimy, so he's sure to help keep up on your hygiene routine. If you're up for it, Aphelios runs you a warm bath. He helps you out of your pajamas and eases you into the bathwater. While you're relaxing in the tub he takes care of your hair for you. Gently, he works a generous handful of shampoo into your scalp, massaging soothing circles against your skin as he goes. He hums, sometimes. A rare treat he gives when his vocal chords aren't as painful. This alone relaxes you more than any bath ever could (though of course, you aren't complaining about that part). Whatever your regular routine is, he'll see to it—face masks, body scrubs, he'll even shave your armpits for you if you ask. When you're ready to get out, he has a warm towel ready for you (what a wonder ten minutes in the dryer can do). Aphelios has fresh clothes on standby, too. He really does think of everything, and he doesn't let you back into bed until you feel fresh and rejuvenated.

While you're recovering, Aphelios strings together a few soothing instrumentals to help you relax. It's nothing fancy, just a simple beat to break the silence and lull you to sleep.

Aphelios isn't known for going easy on his gaming rivals. That completely disappears when you, bored out of your mind and desperate for something to do, challenge him to Mario Kart or Mortal Kombat. Kicking your ass while you're already down doesn't sit right with him, so he lets you bag a few wins. That stunning smile when you beat him, like you can't believe your luck, makes it all worth it. Fuck, that smile makes his knees weak.

Normally Aphelios can be a bit stingy with his cuddles. He just isn't overly physically affectionate. But if you need extra love? Say no more. He's glued to your side, snuggling you like it's his job. Your limbs are tangled together, your head finds a permanent pillow on his chest, and your bodies share a comforting heat. He will never tell you no if you're not feeling well, especially if you need more attention.

Aphelios sends you tons of memes throughout the day as-is, but if you're recovering from something? He's practically blowing up your phone. If you don't mute your notifications you will never know peace. Mainly, it's because he doesn't want you getting bored. He's also thinking about you a little bit extra, though, and what better way to express that than through a string of unhinged Tik-Toks?

[wannab-urs]

Written in the Stars - Prologue

Pairing: Din Djarin x Ezra (Prospect)

Series summary: The Mandalorian takes a job unlike any he’s ever had before. Driven by his guilt over working for the Empire, even indirectly, and the strange bond he formed with the man, Din rescues his bounty. What follows is not something either of them ever expected.

Chapter summary:  The Mandalorian takes on a bounty unlike any he’s ever had before

Warnings: The Mandalorian/Prospect crossover AU, canon-typical violence, severe injuries and blood loss, loss of limb, season 1 rewrite, eventual smut, slow burn, eventual romance. WC: 1k

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for being with me every step of the way writing this damn thing. Thank you to @beskarandblasters and @atinylittlepain for listening to me yell about it. And thank you readers for giving me a shot on my first Din fic, sorry it's not x reader lol

Ezra Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

The Outer Rim - 9 ABY

The ship lurches as it takes fire from the bounty hunter. He’s not sure if the ship will survive this latest one. Not sure if he will survive much longer with this wound to his dominant arm.

He pushes through the brutal throbbing in his bicep to operate the guns, making a last ditch effort at taking out his pursuer. Just as Arvala-7 comes into view, he hits something vital on the other man’s ship.

“Kevva take you,” he exclaims into his empty ship. He’s lost an engine, maybe a few other important bits. This thing wouldn’t fly again, but hopefully it would land.

After a near crash landing on yet another desert planet – Will he ever escape the infernal clutches of desert planets? – the man hurls himself into the compound he had scouted weeks ago. His hired mercenaries should be here soon.

In the meantime, his arm has turned red and angry around his wound, strange and disgusting smelling liquid pouring out of it. It would have to come off or he would not survive. He takes his vibroblade out and just stares at it for a moment.

Removing his right arm would be a major loss. There had been no ship he could not pilot, no fight he could not win, no beautiful creature he could not pleasure with his oldest companion, his most trusted weapon, his dominant hand.

He centers himself, taking deep calming breaths. He says goodbye to his arm, thanks it for being there for him these forty years, and begins the arduous process of sawing it off.

“Kriff, kriff, oh kriff. Karking fuck shit,” the man channels all of his pain into a stream of curse words as the blade pierces his skin, sinking quickly to the bone. He pauses for a moment, gathering the energy of all things and letting it flow through him, before beginning to saw at his own humerus.

Hours later, his stump wrapped in dirty rags from the floor of the compound, his right arm lying at his feet, the man collapses in a puddle of his own blood.

Nevarro - two weeks later

Din hates meeting with Karga. The man is too loud, always performing for the entire room. There’s a fakeness to him, a conniving side that aims to milk everyone around him for all the money he can. Din does not appreciate greed, but even more so he does not appreciate being lied to.

”What’s your highest bounty?”

“Not much. Five thousand.”

“That won’t even cover fuel these days,” Din scoffs. He knows Karga has more.

“Hmm. There is one job.”

The job seems sketchy, possibly more dangerous or less above board than his usual bail jumpers. But he needs the credits – his people need the credits – and this one promises to have a hell of a payout.

The droid at the door checks his chit and lets him into the building. Din had walked past this building countless times and never knew it housed anything.

“Greef Karga said you were coming,” a man dressed in an Imperial Officer uniform says with a thick accent. He’s seated behind a large metal desk, two stormtroopers at his back and two more flanking Din himself.

“What else did he say?”

“He said you were the best in the parsec.” Din couldn’t fault Karga for that one, he was the best in the parsec.

Din whips around, drawing his blaster at the sound of a door whooshing open behind him.

“Freeze! Drop your weapons!” All four stormtroopers immediately aim their blasters at Din.

“No, no, no, no. Pardon. Uh, sorry. I didn't mean to alarm,” mutters the man, eyes bulging at the weapon in his face.

“This is Doctor Pershing. Please excuse his lack of decorum. His enthusiasm outweighs his discretion. Please lower your blaster,” says the client.

“Have them lower theirs first.” Din recognizes that the man in front of him is not a threat, but he can’t say the same for the troopers.

“We have you four to one.”

Din chuckles, low and dark.

“I like those odds.”

The client seems to know how to calm Din down though, and mentions that he’s going to pay very handsomely for Din’s services.

Din sits as the man pulls an ingot out of a case below the desk.

“Beskar?”

The man nods, assures Din it’s real, and says it is only a down payment.

“I have a camtono of Beskar waiting for you upon delivery of the asset.”

“Alive?”

“Yes. Alive. Although, I acknowledge that bounty hunting is a complicated profession. This being the case, proof of termination is also acceptable for a lower fee.”

“That is not what we agreed upon,” the doctor, Pershing, sounds frantic.

“I'm simply being pragmatic.”

Din ignores him, getting the information he needs to hunt down the bounty. No puck, only a tracking fob, only the age of the bounty – forty – and only last reported positional data – near Arvala-7.

“The Beskar belongs back into the hands of a Mandalorian. It is good to restore the natural order of things after a period of such disarray, don't you agree?”

Din is not keen to agree with the Empire on anything, but he must concede that Beskar does indeed belong in the hands of the Mandalorians.

Before heading offworld, Din meets with the Armorer to turn over the meager credits he earned from his previous bounties and the Beskar ingot he got from the Client. The leader of his covert fashions him a pauldron, nearly completing his armor.

Din had yet to paint his helmet, so the new piece matched that at least. The rest of his armor was made of durasteel and was coated in shades of red-brown, like mud or clay. Like the earth beneath his feet the last time he was on his home planet. Like the robes he and his parents wore. It was slowly being replaced with untainted, unpainted Mandalorian iron.

header graphic by @atinylittlepain // other graphics by @saradika-graphics

[eternalglitch]

I want to become a better writer, but something that stumps me is inside voices. Characters when they hear or talk to inside voice is hard to write.

Do you have any tips or tricks on how to write a voice talking or thinking to a character, like how should I write it?

Some say use italics, others say bold or parentheses, but I want others intakes on it, people I love their writings from!

So there's a couple things to keep in mind for my approach to internal monologues.

First up is that only about 30-50% of the human population have consistent internal voices at all according to some sources. I personally don't hear one most of the time, unless I'm intentionally rehearsing what I'm going to say, for example. This might make it worth it for writers to consider what level a character would even have an internal monologue, and adjust their writing style to better showcase another aspect of this characterization.

(If you read my work Like Father Like Son, I intentionally start with fairly active internal monologue and slowly get rid of any internal monologue at all for the character until it starts to come back.)

With that being said, I find it very clunky when writers have a heavy inclusion of internal monologues. I personally like to just interweave the entire POV with the character's thoughts; if something is of interest for them, the descriptions of that item is a lot more exact and focused. This can easily lead into a paragraph connecting whatever nuances are needed to be "clicked together," if that makes sense, without it actually being in a dialogue format.

I'll only use a rare internal monologue line to draw the final conclusion or pose the initial question, as most thoughts tend to not be as neat and clean as dialogue allows.

In the event that I do have that internal monologue, I prefer to show it by standard dialogue formatting rules. Just remove the dialogue quotes and make the thought line of dialogue italic.

Ex. Oh, she realized distantly. Well, I had a good run of it.

Bold doesn't really make any sense for me; it's extraordinarily rare to see bold at all in published fiction. And parentheses tend to be a very disjointed idea that might be almost entirely unrelated to everything surrounding it, or a further clarification of what proceeded them.

In any case, I think it takes some practice to get a good grasp of what reads well as a good mix of direct internal monologue vs. descriptive paragraphs of what the character is thinking. I would read through some books or fanfics that you think did a good job of showing what a character is thinking and feeling and note how much each technique is used to get started on figuring out that balance.

Hope that helps!