#I don’t want to go back on meds if I don’t have to but

[in1-nutshell]

Hi & is it okay for Another of Transformer crossovers

With TFA Silver Aid meeting Spiderverse?

(You can also any bots/cons with Silver, if you like)

thank you

Silver Aid is not the only spider around!

Hope you enjoy!

Silver Aid and Optimus Prime go into the Spiderverse

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Cybertronian (technoorganic) reader

TFA/SPIDERVERSE

Silver Aid was overworked.

Megatron and the others were being more reckless than usual with the Autobots.

And some of his more questionable missions, which end up being fruitless and an angry group to help later.

Silver tried her hardest to make sure everyone was in top shape once they got out of the med bay.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the team to realize how worked up she was.

Silver Aid was looking over the supply case when Megatron and the others came in. Silver Aid blinked a bit before worriedly going up to them. Silver Aid: “Is everything all right?” She takes Megatron’s servo and starts looking at it. Megatron paces his other servo on top of her. Megatron: “Everything is fine Silver Aid.” Silver Aid: “Then why is everyone doing here?” Blitzwing: “This is an intervention.” Silver Aid: “What?” Blitzwing: “You are working too hard and for long periods of time Silver Aid. It is not healthy.” Silver Aid: “I’m fi—” Starscream: “Don’t even start with that load of scrap heap. You are running off of fumes! Again!” Silver Aid annoyingly huffs. Lugnut: “It is important to take more breaks Silver Aid, we have talked about this in the past.” Silver Aid takes her servos and crosses them. Silver Aid: “I’m sorry but someone has to make sure you don’t bleed all over the floor and function properly. You wouldn’t last 3 days if I didn’t put in all this work.” Megatron: “We are not undermining your work. We simply think you should also prioritize your health.” Silver Aid sends him a harsh glare. He stares back at her. A minute goes by before she sighs and smirks. It sent a chill down Megatron’s back struts, though for the reason why was up for debate. Silver Aid: “How about a little bet? If I leave for 3 days and the base and yourselves are not scrap metal… I will consider a change in my normal routine.” Megatron: “But…” Silver Aid steps forward and shoves a digit in Megatron’s chassis. Silver Aid: “But if I find the med bay and you all a mess, I Will come for all your hides.” Megatron: “…Deal.” Silver Aid and Megatron shake servos as the techno organic begins to walk out of the room. Starscream: “Wait your leaving now?” Silver Aid: “Of course! See you all in 3 days!” The mechs in the room: “…”

Silver Aid walked out the base and realized that she didn’t exactly have a place to stay meanwhile the deal was on.

She figured that one of the nearby cave systems would do for the time being.

The medic would have gone to the Plant, but she wanted to stay as far from any potential fights as possible.

Staring at the setting sun an idea struck her.

It would be another 2 hours before Optimus would be going on patrol, why not spend it with him?

Optimus was a bit surprised to find Silver Aid calling him.

Like her, the Prime was running off of fumes.

Swamped with work, though most mainly caused by the Decepticon’s, the occasional human villain of the week, and his team occasionally breaking out into fights.

He almost jumped at the opportunity to get a short break.

Optimus made sure to let Ratchet know he was heading out early for patrol.

The medic acknowledged him as the Prime transformed and peeled it to the set location.

The two met at an abandoned shipyard not too far from the main port.

The two were tired but grateful to see each other again under much more peaceful circumstances.

As they chatted the familiar sound of a portal made them stop.

Optimus quickly activated his axe and stood in front of Silver Aid. Silver Aid grabbed his arm tightly while gripping to sturdy pole with the other servo. Silver Aid: “Prime, I swear if we get sucked into the portal, I will personally make sure Megatron does not attack you and your team for 2 months.” Both are anticipating for the portal to start dragging them in. Optimus: “I don’t think its sucking… I think it’s—” Four objects shot out of the portal. Optimus quickly grabs two of them while Silver grabbed the other two. The portal closed. The bots took notice that these were humans in costumes. Optimus had a human with part of their hair out and one that seemed to be glitching with different colors. Silver had a human with a black and red costume and another with a white and pink suit. They all groaned holding their heads. Silver motioned Optimus to place them down, both kneeling in front of them. The medic carefully helped the black and red human sit up. The eye’s on the costume blinked widely. She gave them a gentle smile. Silver Aid: “Hello there, your safe. All of you are.” The humans slowly start looking around at their surroundings. Optimus: “My name is—” The red and black one suddenly squealed and stood up. Miles: “Your Optimus Prime! And your Silver Aid!” Both bots blink in confusion. It was common for the humans to fawn over the Autobots, but one fawning over her? The others suddenly jumped up and looked at them, they could feel the excitement rolling off of them. Silver Aid: “That is correct… how do you know our names?” Miles: “We know about Transformers and recently re watched some of the series. Umm, my name is Miles.” The white and blue one slapped his head. White and blue: “Secret identities! Remember?” The two had a silent argument that led to the white and blue human sighing. Gwen: “I’m Gwen.” The one that constantly glitched and his companion waved. Pav: “I’m Pav! And this is Hobbie!” Hobbie saluted at the bots.

Optimus and Silver sat down listening to the teens explaining that they all knew them as childhood TV characters.

Beloved in multitude of rebirths and comics in their universes.

When asked about the costumes after the face reveal, they stated they were spider people.

This caught Silver’s attention.

What did they mean by that?

But before she could ask, the ground underneath them caved in.

Silver Aid woke up to harsh lights and what looked like a lab setting.

Optimus was in the berth next to her also waking up.

She could groggily make out the teens at the end of the room.

A bigger human in a similar outfit was in front of them waving his arms angerly.

She did not like it.

Her optics narrowed when the bigger human touched Miles’s shoulder and winced.

Silver Aid transformed into her alt mode, jumped up and landed in front of the kids, separating them from the bigger human. Silver Aid: “What did you do to him!” Miles quickly got in front of her patting her longer legs. Miles: “It’s okay! It’s okay! Miguel’s just a bit rough and grouchy!” Her optics flickered from the bigger human to Miles. She sighed as she transformed back into bot form. Silver Aid: “I apologize. I thought you were hurting the children.” Miles: “I’m 15!” Silver Aid: “Did I stutter?” Optimus walking next to her with wide optics. Optimus: “Where are we?” Miguel: “You are in our headquarters.” Optimus: “Headquarters for what?” Gwen: “A Spider society in this dimension for all the spider people to come to.” Optimus and Silver Aid look at each other. Optimus: “You know—” Silver Aid: “The 2 months I know, I know.”

Enter Peter B and Jessica Drew.

Miles and the others had never seen Peter or Jessica love so quickly before.

Both were just staring up at the bots with happy expressions.

Did they really have that much of a positive impact in these dimensions?

A small baby swinging on a web landed on Silver’s shoulder.

The technorganic’s optics widened gently holding the little babe in her servos.

She quietly asked if all spider people could do that.

Silver Aid could have cried at that moment when she saw them swing around.

The teens offered to give the two bots a tour, given the way they entered this universe… it was going to take about a day or two to get it fixed and tested correctly.

Optimus is given the ‘Honorary Spidey’ title.

Silver Aid was already given the spider person title.

She was shocked to hear that the majority of the spidey’s there started when a spider bit them.

That was the same thing that happened to her… well a nice way to put it.

Optimus and Silver stick to each other’s sides the entire stay.

… But they are no longer allowed to go into the main lobbies without one of the teens, Peter B, Jessica, or Miguel accompanying them.

Apparently, a lot of universes had their own ‘Transformers’ and versions of them.

They both were surrounded by spidey’s who were crying and jumping with excitement.

Now to the main spideys.

Miguel, Peter and Jessica have all grown up watching the original Transformer’s cartoons in their dimensions.

Some more sparing than others.

While some things with the bots change, the basic concept and how the bots act is virtually the same.

All three of them hang out near the bots when they come back to Miguel’s ‘office’.

Most of the time it was Silver Aid and Optimus talking with Peter and Jessica whenever they weren’t on missions.

Miguel stayed silent and separative for most of the visit.

On occasion he would talk to Silver Aid.

One talk led to some important findings.

Lyla pops up on Miguel’s shoulder. Lyla: “Oh Miguel you weren’t kidding when you put her on the list! She’s gorgeous!” Miguel tries rapidly swatting at the hologram but she pops near her helm. Silver Aid: “List?” Lyla: “Yeah, Miguel’s got a list of potential spider people he wants to join the society, especially after what happened when Miles showed—” Miguel: “There’s no need for any more detail Lyla!” Silver Aid: “You want me to join your society?” The technorganic could feel the embarrassment and anger rolling of the man. Miguel: “No!” Lyla: “… He chased down Miles because he wanted to save his dad and sic the rest of the society on him.” Silver Aid: “Excuse me what!?” From afar… Peter holding Mayday: “What do you think they’re talking about?” Optimus shrugs. Jessica: “Maybe he is trying to recruit her?” They see Silver Aid transform into a giant spider and was chasing after Miguel. Jessica: “… Or maybe she found out about what happened with Miles…” Optimus: “What happened with Miles?” Peter: “Well, there are these things called Canon Events…”

The adults quickly found out how strong Silver’s webbing was and how hard it was to get off.

The rest of the visit was mainly staying with the four teens.

Hobbie and Pav where the pair that usually went out with the bots to more crowded areas.

Though they would bring Gwen and Miles if things got too crowded.

Someone had to protect their new large friends.

Pav loved chatting with the pair about almost everything under the sun.

It reminded Optimus of Bumblebee a lot.

Hobbie often took to literally hanging off of Silver Aid’s armor and occasionally strumming chords on his guitar.

Silver Aid and Optimus are watching the two spiders from a few feet away. Silver Aid: “Doesn’t Pav and Hobbie remind you of Bumblebee and Prowl?” Optimus: “So I’m not the only one who thinks that?” Pav and Hobbie swing up on the respected bots shoulders. Pav: “Whatcha talking about?” Optimus: “How you two remind us of some friends back home.” Hobbie: “Really? What’s Pav? Bumblebee?” Pav looked at the Prime with wide eyes. Pav: “Really!?” Silver Aid: “I take it back. He is both Bee and Sari.” Pav happily kicked his feet a bit. Pav: “And what about Hobbie?” Silver Aid: “He reminds us most of Prowl, maybe a bit of Jazz too.” Hobbie: “Wait is that the ninja mechs?” The bots nodded. Hobbie laughed a bit and leaned back. Hobbie: “…Are you married to Megatron?” Optimus nearly trips and falls on his face. Silver Aid’s frame feels hot. Silver Aid: “We haven’t exactly done the rites yet…” Optimus now looks at Silver in surprise. Optimus: “Wait you haven’t!?”

Gwen and Miles liked to have more one-on-one moments with the bots.

Well, more Miles than Gwen.

Gwen wasn’t as social as the others but did make time for the bots as the date for them to return came closer.

She liked hanging out with Silver Aid the most.

Something about ‘there aren’t a lot of spiderwomen who get happy endings’.

…She really needed to ask what the girl meant by that.

Silver Aid is hanging upside down with Gwen. Silver Aid: “I heard about the thing that usually makes the average spider person a hero is the bite… how did yours happen?” Gwen: “Pretty normal. I was playing my drum set when the spider bit my hand.” Silver Aid: “How badly did it hurt?” Gwen: “Not that bad? Why was yours painful?” Silver Aid laughs humorlessly. Silver Aid: “You could say that.” Gwen scoots a bit closer. Gwen: “What happened?” Silver looks unsure whether to actually tell her. Gwen: “Please?” Silver sighs: “It started off the day I decided to join Optimus to watch over my twin and our other friend, Sentinel…”

Miles was a different story.

The boy was almost their shadow the entire visit.

Practically bursting at the seems with joy whenever he saw them.

He loved to rant and just talk to them about their lives.

Optimus sympathized when Miles sheepishly told him the story on how he became his universes Spiderman and the training involved.

Training as a recruit was the worst.

The Prime gave him a few words of encouragement about his situation which, in a way backfired.

Optimus starts running up to Silver Aid. Silver Aid notices a crying Miles in his servos. Silver Aid: What happened!” Optimus: “I don’t know! I was just telling him he was doing a great job and he started crying!” Silver Aid gently pats his back. He turns in her direction. Silver Aid: “Hey buddy, can you tell me what’s wrong? Maybe I can help fix whatever happened.” Crying spider noises increase.

Eventually it was time for the bots to leave.

It was a bit of a tearful goodbye, scratch that very tearful good bye from a lot more spiders than they anticipated.

The pair held servos as they jumped into the portal.

… and promptly landed on their faces.

They had laned back at the abandoned shipyard.

Well, the city was still intact, and nothing was one fire so there was some good news.

The sun was starting to rise.

Silver Aid gave Optimus a quick hug and told him good luck with his team.

He waved back until realizing what she had just said.

He had been gone for 3 days…

No official contact with his team…

After he said he was patrolling at night…

…Great…

Optimus quietly transforms in front of the Plant and walks inside. Ratchet was asleep on his work bench. Prowl was sleeping on Bulkhead’s arm while said bot was sprawled on the floor. Bumblebee and Sari were snoring on the big bots chassis. There were multiple scanners and video tapes littered around the floor. CRUNCH! Optimus accidentally stepped on a data pad. Which was enough to wake up Sari. Sari blinked tiredly before staring at him. Sari: “OPTIMUS!” Her scream suddenly woke everyone up. The last thing the Prime saw was his entire team running at him at top speed. Meanwhile… Silver Aid swings up to the base and walks in. Silver Aid: “I’m bac—OH SWEET PRIMUS!” There were multiple craters in the main room, some marks on the wall that looked suspiciously like talons, and a harsh smell of smoke. Lugnut and Blitzwing were lying in one of the mini craters groaning. Starscream was dangling by his pedes from one of the taller monitors. Was he… crying? And Megatron… had fallen asleep near his throne. Silver Aid groaned loudly. That’s what woke them up. Blitzwing was the first to reach her, pulling her into a tight hug and spinning her around. Random laughed tiredly. Blitzwing: “Thank the Prime’s its over!” Both bots were lifted up by Lugnut’s hug. Silver was then tugged out by Starscream who held her shoulders. Starscream: “Where have you been!? We have been trying to contact you for the past week and—” Silver: “Wait what! I was gone for three days!” Megatron: “You were gone for a week.” Silver jumped, not even noticing he had moved from his spot from across the room. He looked tired, angry, and relieved. Silver tried to reach for his servo. He pulled away making her spark clench. Megatron: “Prime is missing as well. None of our scanners picked up on any of your signatures. So please enlighten me, where were you.” Silver Aid: “The portals found us. There was no way we could have gotten back so we had to wait. We thought we were only there for three days.” Megatron sighs and opens his arms slightly. Silver Aid gently grabbed his arm and started leading him to their shared habsuite. She turned back to the others. Silver Aid: “I promise I’ll tell everything later!” She softly shut the door just as she felt two large arms wrap around her. Megatron lifted her up and buried his face in her neck cables. Megatron: “These portals are testing me…” Silver Aid just smiled as she shut her optics and enjoyed the safety his arms provided.

[lottielovelace]

công chúa

(ghost x könig's-sister!reader)

summary: You're just a student trying to make through med school with your sanity intact. That last thing you needed was to be kidnapped to serve as a hostage for a half-brother you've never met.

At least the special forces operative here to help is cute.

originally posted on ao3 (wordcount: 3.8k)

Rating: T

Relationships: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader, Kate Laswell x her wife (I call her Jean), König & Reader <- PLATONIC

Ao3 Tags: meet cute! in a prison camp / First Meetings / tries to follow canon characterization / less so canon events/timeline / so some things (like the villains) are VERY vague / Past Suicide Attempt / Undercover Simon "Ghost" Riley / Unmasked Simon "Ghost" Riley / (Temporarily) / reader has a name & backstory but I tried to make it unobtrusive

this is a part of a series

Author's note: I do write this story with a specific OC (check the series masterpost if you want a full breakdown of her) in mind just so characterization is consistent, but I tried to make it possible for you to replace her with whoever you imagine. I do have to explicitly mention details unique to the OC (most obvious example here being her ethnicity), but for the most part I'll try to keep things open ended (ex: using "your hair" instead of "your dark hair").

Also, as I mentioned, the OC's ethnicity (half-Vietnamese) is pretty plot relevant this chapter, but if that disrupts your reading flow, feel free to mentally replace it with whatever makes sense for your own personal read-through. I'm not used to writing in second person, so the verb tenses are kinda screwy.

Also this is in the tags but TW: DISCUSSION OF A PAST SUICIDE ATTEMPT (character has for the most part fully recovered)

công chúa:

People could be so fucking stupid sometimes. Bold and stupid. Newbies especially. New recruits—or in this case, new criminal organizations—always think they’ll be special. The exception to the rule.

Take for example, this new group who had the bloody brilliant idea of trying to control special forces (and a handful of top PMCs) by kidnapping anyone ransom-worthy they could get their grubby little hands on. Which meant a lot of missing parents, kid siblings, and SOs.

Ghost couldn’t tell if they actually thought that would work or if this was just some distraction. Perhaps an intimidation ploy or a small part of some greater plan. Either way, in reality, all they ended up with was a whole bunch of pissed-off—and very well trained—soldiers, many of whom were willing to do anything to get their loved ones back. Even allying with their greatest rivals. Ghost didn’t predict to end up working with KorTac of all bedfellows, but even their lads weren’t safe. 

In the past month, he'd had to bear witness to his comrades and competitors getting wrecked, worried sick over their nearest and dearest. Laswell might’ve single-handedly revived the tobacco industry and he’d never seen Johnny so torn up.

Ghost himself had been spared any grief. He would’ve liked to pretend that it was because his mask had protected his identity so well, but the reality was much simpler and bleaker. He had nobody to take. Tommy and Joseph and Beth and Mum were all already six feet under. Nothing would ever change that.

That being said, the mask wasn’t useless.

The hostagers had done extensive research into all their personal lives. They needed to in order to find out who they could kidnap and how. They had become intimately familiar with every combatant their cobbled alliance could send—with one glaring exception.

They certainly knew about Ghost, but not even they knew Ghost’s face—at least according to the dossier smuggled to the Task Force.

After that was discovered, going undercover was less of a choice and more of a duty.

----------

“Jean?”

The woman’s head jerked up at the whispered sound of her name. Finding no one in front of her, she swiveled. Her eyes landed on an idle balaclava-ed guard.

“Don’t look at me,” the guard commanded. He followed his own advice, keeping his gaze trained on the horizon. His voice was low and rough. Familiar.

Jean Laswell hazarded one last glance at him. She squinted, trying to place where she'd seen him before.

A stifled gasp rang out as her eyes widened in recognition.

“Ghost?”

“Keep your voice down, I’m undercover.”

Jean tried to keep her body language innocuous, eyes now glued to her own clasped hands. The last thing she wanted was to blow Ghost's cover.

“It’s good to see your face— or er, hear your voice.” Pleasantries aside, she went straight to the first question on her mind, the one that had plagued her sleepless nights. “How’s Kate?”

"Smoking like a chimney, but otherwise holding up. She misses you."

"Are you here to…"

"Not yet. KorTac and the team are planning a mutual offensive, but we need more intel before exfil becomes viable. Intel I was tasked with collecting."

His tone didn't reassure her.

"But…"

"I ran into a little roadblock. I was supposed to receive, memorize, and orally deliver crucial information about the compound’s layout and security flaws. We’d had some limited online communication with our informant, but couldn’t get anything sensitive past the security systems. So I volunteered to get it directly. Unfortunately, we didn’t know that our informant only speaks Vietnamese, Cantonese, and some very broken Russian. The dictionary he’d been previously using isn’t complex enough for the level of detail we need. Our shared Russian skills aren’t much better. I can’t leave until I have the intel memorized and I can’t memorize it until we find a translator."

"Could you leave and come back with a translator? A digital one maybe if you can't get anyone else past the guards?"

Ghost shook his head, “They know that we're trying to infiltrate them. They’re very strict about what technology gets in and out. Besides, my cover is only so good. I should be able to get a believable excuse to leave camp, but the scrutiny required for re-entry would compromise it.”

Jean pursed her lips in thought, running over the possibilities. She paused, half thinking out loud.

“I think the princess speaks Vietnamese.”

“Princess?” Ghost’s eyes widened beneath his mask. Shit, no one told him they'd taken someone so high profile. That significantly complicated security procedure. “I thought all their targets were lowkey.”

“No, no, she’s not royalty. She’s a med student. It’s just a nickname,” Jean hastily corrected with an embarrassed laugh. “We have a lot of those here. We get kinda bored.”

Ghost silently thought back on his own POW experiences.

“Things could be a whole lot worse than boredom.”

“The perks of being a hostage," Jean responded dryly. "Need us in one piece.”

“So where’s this ‘princess’ of yours?”

“There,” Jean pointed at the upper level of the compound's eastern turret. “You can see where the nickname comes from. She’s in solitary, but she has a window that we talk to her through during yard time.”

“What'd she do?” Unless the hostage takers were worse than he thought, they wouldn’t put someone in solitary for shits and giggles.

“She’s… a special case."

“Who’s she tied to?”

“That’s the thing. We don’t know. Not even she knows.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I know I’m here because of Kate. Ritchie’s here because of his uncle. Troy because of his brother. Eileen… could be her nephew, but it’s probably Soap. But Elise—that’s her name, Elise Veidt. Do you know any Veidts in Special Forces or KorTac?”

“Not to my knowledge, no. Could it be her boyfriend?”

Jean shook her head, “No. The common theory is an uncle or half sibling. Both her parents were civilians, but her father had family and an ex-wife on the other side of the Atlantic. She has no idea where they are now or if they’re even still alive, but it seems the most likely—if not the only—possibility. Plus she was single when she was discovered.”

Ghost's brow furrowed.

“Discovered? What do you mean by that?”

“There was… an incident. It ended with her being taken into custody.”

Ghost wanted to press for more detail, but Jean flashed him a look that stopped him in his tracks. She was married to Laswell, and that doesn't happen without being able to hold her own in an argument.

“It’s not my story to tell." Her tone was measured, but Ghost could tell this was non-negotiable to her. “She’s a good kid. Just got in a bit of a rough patch. Along the way she had her blood tested and it must’ve pinged… something. Next thing she knows, she’s getting transferred. They refuse to tell her where. When she resists, she gets knocked out and wakes up here.”

“That still doesn’t explain the isolation.”

“We think that whoever she’s related to, it must be someone important. Or someone very dangerous. Someone they’re scared to anger.”

“Then why did they kidnap her if they’re so bloody afraid of pissing the bugger off?”

“Taking her was probably a calculated risk. Returning her damaged a death sentence. They wanted to make sure she doesn’t get hurt, either by her own hand or someone else’s.”

----------

Ghost cautiously approached the cell door. According to the directory, this was “Detainee #934287: VEIDT, Elisabeth.” He peered through the grate, careful not to get too close to the opening—he knew firsthand how solitary confinement could warp the mind and liked having both his eyes intact.

From what he could see, the cell had a tiny cot, stripped of its sheets on the left. On the right was a wash basin and bucket. In between was a small window—just large enough to stick your face out of. It wasn’t the worst cell Ghost had seen, but it wasn’t homey either. It also appeared to be empty.

“What the—” he muttered under his breath.

The low rumble of his voice almost made you jump from your position, sitting leaned against the door. The window was your only connection to the outside world, but it also made your cell freezing so you tried to stay as far away from it as possible when there was no one outside to talk to. You paused, confused then intrigued. You didn’t think they had a British guard. Slowly, you got up.

He was closer than you assumed. Right up against the door, you almost had to suppress the urge to jump again. You silently mourned the fact that such a pretty pair of eyes were wasted on some terrorist dipshit.

Still, you were bored enough that anything seemed intriguing.

“You’re new.”

“You’re Elise, right?”

Your lips quirked with all the cockiness of someone who knew they couldn’t be touched.

“Shouldn’t they have already debriefed you on that?”

“The only person who’s briefed me on you was Jean.”

Your eyes narrowed. You may have only been able to communicate through a tiny window, but you trusted Jean. You knew her. She wouldn't rat on you, not without a fight.

“What did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” his voice grew even gentler. Soft in a way that commanded you to hang on every word. “I’m here to help.”

Attractive voice and eyelashes aside, you were still unimpressed.

“Really?”

“I'm on a reconnaissance mission for Special Forces. I was supposed to memorize this file. I wasn’t told it was going in Vietnamese.”

You perked up at this. Finally, things were making a little sense.

“I speak Vietnamese.”

“So I’ve heard.”

You took one last look at him, trying to figure out if this was a trick or some sick game. Then again, if it was, what would they even do? Your captors didn’t seem allowed to punish you physically, and mentally there wasn’t much more they could do. Fuck it, you had nothing to lose.

You reached out your hand, “Gimme.”

He slipped you a folded up piece of paper. You unfolded it to reveal an annotated set of blueprints.

“Pen or pencil?” For all you know, he could be picky about that sort of stuff.

The man stood up to dig for something in his vest. You quietly realized that he’d been bending down to look you in the eye. This man, whoever he was, was tall.

He passed you a pen. You noticed that while his hands were gloved, a whisper of a tattoo peeked out as his sleeve rode up. It looked like it could be the bottom of a skull. Or a very small picket fence. Probably the former.

You figured he'd turn away and leave you to your work, but he doesn’t.

“Are you going to…”

“No,” he responded firmly. “If either of us get caught, at least two of us are screwed. I know I can get myself out of it, but our informant can’t. I won’t have his blood on your or my hands. So I’m going to keep watch.”

It’s slightly awkward with him just standing there, but you did your best to lay the blueprint flat against the wall and start scribbling away. Still, you couldn't help but let your eyes flit to him, now with his back to you, standing guard.

“Where are you from?”

“Hmm?”

“Your accent, where’s it from?”

“Shouldn’t you be focusing on your work?”

“I could do this with both hands tied behind my back."

He made a doubtful noise.

You let a cheeky smile grace your lips, “Pen in my mouth, paper on the floor. Handwriting might be chicken scratch, but it’d still be legible.”

If you could see his face, you would’ve noticed his eyebrows raise as he tried to picture it. You on your knees, leaned forward with your ass in the air, hands bound, tongue twisted around the p—

“So, the accent? Where?”

“That’s classified.”

You tilted your head in thought, “It’s Northern, right? British, not Scottish. You don’t sound like Eileen.”

He bristled, quiet in a way that tells you you’re on the money.

“Look, how about this. For every question you answer truthfully, I’ll do the same. I won’t ask you anything I know you can’t tell me, not even your name. I just... wouldn’t mind a little conversation. They’re kinda in short supply here.”

A beat passed.

“Manchester.”

“I knew it!”

He made another noise. You think it was a laugh. You think it sounds beautiful.

“My turn. How do you know Vietnamese?”

“My mother. She immigrated from the South when she was young. Judging from some of his vocabulary, I’d guess your informant is from the North, but the dialects aren’t all that different, especially in script. What food do you miss the most?”

“Anything that isn’t an ORP.”

“An ORP?”

“Operational ration pack.”

If your hands were free, you would’ve crossed them.

“That’s a cop out.”

“Fine,” he relented. “I could go for a Nando’s takeaway.”

“What sort of food is that?”

“Chicken. Flame grilled with this Peri-Peri sauce and—”

He groaned. It’s a noise you want to hear again.

Mimicked him in commiseration. The plates the guards slid through your food slot were pitiful, to say the least.

He starts to ask you something but seems to stop himself.

“What?” you asked.

“It’s… I shouldn’t.”

You were many things, but you weren't a coward.

“I can always choose not to answer. Hit me.”

His voice was still hesitant as he asked, “What did you get arrested for?”

You were worried that the question would be gross or embarrassing, not utterly nonsensical.

“Arrested?”

“Jean said they found you because you were taken into custody.”

“Oh,” your cheeks flushed. “It wasn’t that type of custody. I was 5150-ed. Or more accurately 5250-ed.”

“Pardon?”

“I tried to kill myself. I failed.”

The man froze. He turned around, trying to get a glimpse of you—and any wounds—through the grate.

“Do you need medical attention?”

“No,” you reassured. “I stole some valium and then drank myself silly. I was found in time and they got me help before any irrevocable damage happened. If they hadn’t spotted the note they would’ve just written me off as some foolish party animal, pumped my stomach, and let me be on my merry way.”

You haphazardly glanced at him, expecting him to be stone cold. A proper soldier. To your surprise his eyes, those stupidly beautiful eyes, are trained on you with more care than you've seen in the last three months combined.

“Were you a user… before?”

You shake your head but your eyes remain locked. You couldn't bear to break contact.

“No. Too busy with school. But then my mom died and suddenly everything was… too much. Going to med school and becoming a doctor was what she wanted. The loans, the sleepless nights, the blood, sweat, and tears. It was all for her. Not me. I wanted to make her proud. Happy. And now that will never happen. Without her, I didn’t really see the point of continuing to put myself through hell. I tried to drop out, but the program wouldn’t let me. So I figured might as well cut out all stress in my life instead.”

“Are you planning to try again?”

“No,” the answer is honest. “I’m not giving these bastards the satisfaction. Plus I need to find whoever put me in this situation in the first place and give them a piece of my mind.” You turned back to the blueprints, gently trying to shift the tone back to the comfortable rapport you had earlier. You missed it and you need him to stop looking at you like that or you might do something stupid. “That was like three extra questions. It's my turn now. Any hobbies?”

“Hobbies?”

The very word sounded foreign on his tongue.

“You know. Do you have a secret passion for knitting or something?”

“Embroidery, actually. And that’s no secret.”

“So, anything you do outside of… espionage or whatever your job is?”

“I dunno. Football. Tattoos.”

“Giving or receiving?”

“The latter, though I have been curious to learn it.”

“Got a steady hand?”

He smiled, thinking about something you know he won’t tell you.

“You could say that.”

“Anything else?”

He paused for a moment. You can tell there’s something on his mind. He just hasn’t resolved whether you’re worth it to tell to.

“There’s a bare knuckle boxing club I like to go to when I’m on leave.”

You haven’t seen him in combat, but there’s something in the coiled posture of his stance that tells you he knows how to handle himself.

“I bet you kick their asses."

He says nothing, but you swear he almost preens.

"Could you teach me?"

His lips quirked.

"How serious are you being?"

"Pretty decently. They got me this time. I won't let that happen again. Not without a fight."

"If you're ever in Town, visit Stuart’s and ask for Simon. Might be able to give you a few pointers."

You look up at him, grinning.

"Simon, eh?"

He smiled. His gaze was still intense, but its stifling mixture of pity and worry was replaced by something warmer that made your chest flutter.

"Can't promise I'll be there, but the lady at the desk should be able to tell you when I'll be back."

You folded the blueprints, neatly passing them through the cell bars.

"Well, Simon. Here's your translation. Give them hell."

----------

Chaos. Complete and other chaos.

Smoke and bombs and bullets. You agonized over whether or not to look out the window. The unknown of what was happening was almost scarier than the reality. In the few furtive glances you spared, you caught the bodies. So many bodies. The only relief was that all of the dead seemed to be guards.

You thought back on Simon, dressed in the guard’s garb. These are probably his people. He must’ve gotten out and they must’ve gotten the intel. By now he’s probably on his next recon mission. You were able to learn a little about military structure from what the other hostages told you about their families. If his specialty was infiltration they probably weren't going to waste him on a direct assault like this.

Manchester. Stuart's. Simon.

You didn't need to see him before then. You just needed him to stay alive, wherever he was.

The cacophony slowly grew closer. You didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing.

A loud buzz rang out as the power grid malfunctioned and the hallway outside your cell was plunged into darkness.

Something was happening and all you could do was sit back and listen.

There were screams. Some seemed to be of pure joy, others of painful death. Many you couldn’t tell apart.

There were gunshots. Often followed by gurgles and the sickening sound of someone falling to the ground. There were footsteps. Heavy ones. Slowly drawing nearer.

Someone jostled the cell door. You froze, holding your breath. Maybe they wouldn't even notice you.

The darkness outside your cell moved. A single blue eye peered through the grate, surrounded by black.

"Stay back," the eye commanded. You were all too happy to oblige him.

There was a quick bang and the cell door swung open, revealing a man. A large man.

He bent down to enter the cell before standing up to his full height. Clad in black with a mask you'd expect on a cartoon executioner, he unfolded like an eldritch piece of origami. He just seemed to keep on going.

“Are you Elisabeth?” Hearing it again, you realized his voice was accented. Up close, his demeanor transformed. He seemed... nervous. Incredibly so, barely even able to get the words out.

“Yes,” your voice is almost as hesitant as his.

“I— I am— Ah—” his feet shuffled about anxiously. Any bravado he had from battle has melted away, leaving him almost curled against the wall. You catch sight of a patch on his left side. Red. White. Red. The Austrian flag.

“Sprechen Sie Deutsch?” ( Do you speak German? ) you asked. Maybe talking would be easier in his native language.

The man perked up, surprised but excited.

“Ja! Du auch?” ( Yes! Do you? )

You nod, “Mein Vater war Österreicher.” ( My father was Austrian. )

You knew this was a possibility. Even with the covered face and the giant height difference. Still, his next words caught you off guard.

“Ich weiß. Ich bin dein Halbbruder.” ( I know, I’m your half-brother. )

----------

The tall man, your brother, escorts you out. He promises to tell you everything and more once you’re away from this wretched place wo die Wände haben Ohren ( where the walls have ears ).

After being cooped up for so long, your legs protest the walk, but you pushed through. You were a free woman and you would never take that for granted again.

The exhaustion was worth it to step into the daylight with your own two feet.

Once your eyes adjusted, you realized that two portable camps had been set up on the perimeter. As predicted, there was no sign of Simon. You did see a couple familiar faces though, along with a plethora of heavily-armed strangers (including a man wearing a skeleton mask of all things!). Eileen was deep in conversation with a mohawk-ed man, but she threw you a warm smile as she spotted you heading to the other wolf-emblemed camp.

"Are you alright?" a voice called out at you. It was British: Northern, but rougher and gruffer than Simon's had ever been. Still, you allowed yourself to revel in the fantasy for a moment before you had to face the speaker and ruin the illusion.

You didn't know who you were expecting when you turned around, but it certainly wasn't the skull-masked man.

Up close he was even more striking. You could just barely make out his shaded eyes, alone in a void of black and white. He was shorter than your brother, but still tall by any measure. Even at that size he managed to sneak up on you two.

Your heart was racing. You didn't know why.

"Ye—yes," you managed to stammer out.

Your brother noticed your distress. It seems to give him a confidence to act that he couldn't summon for himself.

He wrapped a protective arm around you and began to lead you away.

“She’s with KorTac,” he said, like that explained everything.

During your confinement, you had plenty of time to think about what you would say to whoever got you into this mess by joining the military. You had dreams of really digging in and tearing them a new one. All of those dreams flew out the window now.

It wasn’t like you couldn’t or were afraid to antagonize someone as big as your brother. But, seeing him… you didn’t want to do that, or anything that could hurt him.

You wanted to talk to him. To get to know him. To—silly as it was—protect him.

After all, he was about the only family you had left.

[quins-makeshift-menagerie]

Beginning to wonder if I need to put the blog on hiatus again because as things progress I’m having growing issues focusing

[bondagebimbo]

heads up: (TW blood/blood loss mention from accidental injury in post and tags)

probs not gonna stream tonight because I feel so dead and I actually just physically hurt myself really fucking badly, not purposely—don’t think I did this intentionally, and have to clean up a giant bloody fucking mess now so I’m just 🫠 ugh. I hate being inconvenienced with shit like this due to my own fucking issues with my coordination and a lack of reaction time because I feel weird right now in general and I’m struggling to feel like an actual person mentally so like … it definitely fucked me up today when I was distracted and unfocused and managed to hurt myself.

I’ll see how I feel tomorrow night after dealing all this, but if I do stream tomorrow then it’ll likely start around 7pm (east coast US time) as that’s the most common time I’ve been recommended. a post will be made beforehand on whether I plan to or not to, along with the twitch link.

but right now I just REALLY need to clean up this fucking mess and lay down. I got myself BAD and I think I need to try and nap after I clean this up because fucking hell, it hurt, and it made me feel sick at the same time so 🙃

[cupiidzbow]

im doing something different for commissions this coming time

[mars-ipan]

Tomorrow Is Election Day And I Am So Fucking Stressed

[palms-upturned]

.

[alvinmichaelmurphyseville]

“Well, it’s only a few weeks into the school year and….I’m already behind in all my non AP classes. AP Science and Computer Science continue to kick my butt.”

“Should I swap Computer Science out for Psychology? Then I could take it with Jeanette and she could tutor me.”

“I’m sick of having to rely on meds to stay caught up.” 😢

[coulrology]

So what's the lore with Juniper n their relationship with Vitimir n Hettie?

WELL for both, their relationships go back to their school days! Although the difference being that Juniper and Hettie went to St. Epiderm together, while Vitimir went to a different school (Glandus at the time he met Juniper).

I’ve briefly touched on how Juniper and Vitimir met here, so that explains their first meeting. To reiterate, Vitimir was a shy kid that didn’t really have any friends growing up (aside from bugs/whatever little creatures they spent their time around) and was bullied frequently, so that single positive interaction with Juniper, though small, really stuck with him and he never forgot it. Juniper didn’t forget it either, but being the sociable type meeting and talking to lots of different people, that moment sorta blended in with the rest of their memories. So fast forward to them both working as Coven Heads at the same time, Vitimir immediately recognizes Juniper. Despite Juniper changing a lot since his child self, that one good memory left such a big impact on Vitimir as a kid that he still held that soft spot for them. So of course, when Juniper eventually approached him on their own time, Vitimir already had this layer of vulnerability. Even though they might not have recognized him, from Vitimir’s perspective, there was that sense of familiarity and comfort; Juniper might have changed, but that kind kid was still in him. Now that they have the chance, Vitimir wants to actually get to know this one person who had plagued so many of their thoughts as a kid. And the rest is history!!

As for Hettie! Again, she and Juniper attended St. Epiderm together. Hettie was just as terrifying as a kid as she is now. She was everything- a jock, a princess, a bully, a weird girl, whatever you can think of. Though she’s very open about who she is, everyone around her was always so intimidated by the fact that she was unpredictable (and the fact that she’s both the smartest AND strongest person you’d ever meet is terrifying enough on its own). Most everyone- except for Juniper. To Juniper, Hettie was always such a character. She’s always been so confident and unapologetic, able to command people’s attention without even saying a word. Her unpredictability made everything she did so interesting. Juniper so deeply admired this about Hettie. And the fact that she’s 100% his type only drew them closer to her. Hettie was Juniper’s first ever crush, and that love Juniper had for her never faded. Though as kids, they weren’t in the same social circles, they did cross paths a lot, whether it was through Sonia (Scooter Crane’s daughter and childhood best friend to Juniper, who was also in the Healing Track), or Juniper getting injured for whatever ridiculous reasons. At this age, Hettie didn’t reciprocate her feelings (yet), but she had a fondness for Juniper because he was so different from the other kids for the fact alone that they had a (very obvious) crush on her. And while their crush may have caused them to do embarrassing things, and foolishly being used as her own guinea pig from time to time to practice her magic on, Hettie had cared about Juniper. To her, he always made life more fun and interesting. Fast forward to them as Coven Heads- Hettie has grown a stronger affection for Juniper. He’s changed over the years, but he still makes life so much more fun and interesting. Perhaps now, Hettie admires Juniper for the same exact reasons they always have her. They’re still a bit pathetic around her, but Hettie finds it endearing. Not to mention, Juniper still makes for a good doll to experiment on, and she takes good care of her favorite dolls ;-)

[bibleofficial]

where is my fat husband

[seumyo]

we’re cooking with this (bnha oc insert RAAGH 🦖)

[nerdgirlnarrates]

So as we all know, you will feel terrible for large parts of medical training. My question is, just how bad are you supposed to feel and for how long?

[raiiny-bay]

line art finished……..

[bondagebimbo]

LOVE when the pharmacy decides to fucking dick around with my meds so badly that now I’m off my mood stabilizer, my pain meds, and my fucking birth control (in a few days) because they’re insisting I should have extra fucking bottles of each one and I DONT because they don’t let me pick up more than a one month supply of narcotics at a fucking time so do explain where these extra bottles are, hmm ????? and they didn’t have enough caplyta ordered last time to even give me my usual 3 months supply of that so … ???? get your fucking heads out of your asses and give me the fucking meds you owe me ??? like ??? but I’m in a nasty headspace right now so if I call the pharmacy this morning, I’m going to be that cunt ass customer they bitch about all day because this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. in fact, the first time, they straight up committed insurance fraud by marking one of my scripts as filled and picked up WHEN, IN REALITY, THEY FUCKING LOST THE SCRIPT AND HAD NO RECORD OF IT BEING FILLED OR PICKED UP IN THEIR SYSTEM, BUT YET, MARKED IT AS SUCH AND CHARGED MY INSURANCE AN ALMOST 8 GRAND FOR THE FUCKING 3 MONTHS OF MY MOOD STABILIZER THAT I. NEVER. RECEIVED. I’m genuinely about to report this entire pharmacy to the pharmacy board because I’m so fucking done with this place. it needs to be shut the fuck down because you’re telling me, out of an entire pharmacy, y’all share the same IQ point AND dead brain cell, collectively ??? then don’t fucking work in healthcare where people rely on you to know your shit and keep track of their fucking meds because you’re just constantly making shit worse on people since you can’t seem to not fuck around with these meds and not ‘lose’ scripts. fuck out of here.

and I’m pretty much out of weed, which is usually my back up pain management method, without the money to afford a delivery order by their cut off time to order in 3 hours because I just paid my fucking bills and have SOME to go towards it, but not enough for delivery to be free, and I’d still have to walk my ass to one of the ATM’s nearby because they don’t accept my bank as a prepaid method OR any of the cards I have on my person. 🫠

I can literally feel my back spasming and seizing on and off while I’m laying on my fucking side, I’ve had a migraine with a stupid ass aura for almost a week now because chronic migraines fucking suck and i was REALLY hoping this one would be over by now, my muscle inflammations that my pain meds are supposed to limit are already beginning to start their itching deep in my muscles so soon they’ll blossom into a whole fibromyalgia fucking episode and become entirely inflamed, my joints in my hands fucking hurt because of the dreary weather so I really need to get into a rheumatologist at some point soon as well and get that shit figured out, I’m nauseas as fuck from all the pain, and I’m moody, hormonal, and just feel like fucking death physically.

I’m just. I give up.

this shit is exhausting and painful and so mentally fucking taxing to constantly deal with and I just want a fucking break from all this fucking shit. I wish I could just … not exist … for even just a little while with how fucking painful existing actually feels right now 🫠😭

[windowsandfeelings]

I am so ready to be done with this egg retrieval

[sanchoyo]

haven’t been on much bc my dog has been sick :( between seizures and an infected tooth we’ve been having a Time trying to get everything fixed (this started around the holidays so our vet has been very booked up…we have been like 3-4 times in the past 4-5 weeks OTL does not help it’s like an hour drive there, so that’s been exhausting) now his new seizure meds are making him sick (was hoping it was like, just an adjustment period thing but he’s been sick for a week and having concerning symptoms…) if I’m not on a ton or slow to replying to messages it’s bc I’m working as much overtime as my job will give me bc Vet Expensive and mentally drained obvi 😞