#Several of these are technically separate parts of a longer thing

[spacedoutwitch]

Surprise Wednesday Post!

I HAVE been drawing more stuff (yay arm exercises!! Yay executive function!!), but I'm gonna hold off on that until my normal posting schedule, because that's easier for my brain. HOWEVER, @awondrousway did tag me in a writing-related thing, because that is also a thing that I do. I am going to be flexible in my definition of WIP here, both in terms of "what stage is the project actually in" and "hey don't people normally apply this stuff to fanfiction on this, the fandom website", and I'm kinda wondering if this will receive any interaction at all, but fingers crossed, and that being said:

I... am not gonna promise full versions or explanations for any of these, because I've been anxious about sharing most of them with anyone in the first place. But, like. Knowing there's interest could help?? With that?? Anyway. I've drawn/written stuff for all but one of the involved fandoms (including OC stuff), if that's helpful; have fun trying to narrow it down past that. I am going to go try to sleep off the Nonsense Anxiety that posting this is giving me.

[innerfare]

I Love You - Part 1

Summary: Who says I love you first? How do you say it?

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Luffy: He showed it first, asking you to join his crew, making sure you had a safe and healthy place to be yourself, fighting anyone who stands between you and your dreams, saving his funniest jokes until you're around to hear and giggle at them, even going so far as to share a little (really, only a little) bit of his meal with you, but you were the only who actually said it first. He gets severely injured after a nasty fight, and you stay by his side while he sleeps it off like he normally does, though it takes him longer than usual to wake up. When he does finally wake up looking for you and something to eat, you fling yourself on him and tell him how much you love him. You didn’t intend on confessing, but you were so worried about him and the words fell from your lips as soon as you knew he was okay. Your brows are still furrowed, and when Luffy asks why, you voice your insecurity that he doesn't feel the same way. Luffy just laughs at that and ruffles your hair. “Of course I do.” With that, he crawls out of bed in search of food. He quickly falls into the habit of telling you in the morning when you wake up, and it fills you with so much joy, it’s like he’s giving you a happy vitamin to start your day. And saying those words bring him so much joy that saying them is like he's taking a happy vitamin, too.

Zoro: To your surprise, it was Zoro who said it first. Though Zoro seems the type to bottle up his emotions, he’s actually not, he just doesn’t seem emotional because he’s really good at dealing with his shit. And he knows all too well how temporary arrangements can be, how quickly life can be snuffed out, how easily the people he loves and cares about can be taken away from him. So one late night when he’s alone in the shower, washing his hair (using Nami's expensive shampoo and conditioner because she left it in the shower and Zoro just uses whatever's within his reach) and thinking about you, he realizes how he feels, and he doesn’t even consider not telling you. He climbs into bed afterward in just his boxer briefs, his hair still damp and smelling extra good, shakes you awake, kisses you a few times, and mutters that he loves you in your ear before passing out, not even waiting for you to say it back. He doesn’t say it often after that because he doesn’t thinks actions matter more than words, but he always says it when one of you is injured or after an argument. 

Sanji: Sanji technically confesses first, but you’re the one who actually says those three words. He’s holding your hand in both of his, clutching it close to his racing heart, as he looks down at you, telling you all the ways you make his life better, all the things he’s looking forward to doing with you, all the energy he’s going to put into keeping you happy, healthy, and safe. And the words just sort of fall from your lips. He stops mid sentence, eyes wide and mouth open. The seconds drag on in silence before he’s pulling your lips to his. Both of you are very generous with these three words, saying them often and in public. If you ever hang up the transponder snail without telling him you love him, he’s calling you right back to make sure everything is alright. (Also, not really relevant, might do a separate post about this, but Sanji is definitely a heart-shaped jewelry sort of guy. He just is. Certified lover boy.) 

Ace: Your first, more implicit confession came one night before you two were ever in a relationship. You noticed he was a little off and saw him slip away from the crew as they were drinking the night away. You found him sulking by the water and sensed he was hurting, especially when you asked to say and he told you he’d rather be alone. Before you leave, you tell him, “I just wanted you to know that I’m happy you’re alive.” You had no idea that it would strike a nerve, just got the feeling he needed to hear it, and this was confirmed by him grabbing you by the wrist as you walk away and pulling you into his arms. You continue finding implicit ways to tell him you love him such as, “I think the world is a better place with you in it,” and, “I’m so glad you were born,” and Ace is never really sure how to respond, but he soaks your words up like they’re sunlight and he’s a plant. This culminates in him blurting those three words out one day when you’re sitting in a tree together, Ace avoiding your eyes for fear you’ll reject him. When you lean in and kiss his cheek, instead, he almost cries (and he does when he’s alone later on, your love the purest thing he’s ever known). 

Sabo: Sabo is always taking risks. He lives a dangerous lifestyle as the Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army, and on top of being one of the most wanted criminals in the world, he is an incredibly reckless individual who thrives when his life his threatened. He does not, however, thrive when your life is threatened. So accustomed to being the one others are fretting over, so used to Koala telling him off for taking this risk or making that dumb decision, he is completely blindsided by the anxiety he experiences when he finds out you’ve been captured. Naturally he launches a rescue attempt, and when it succeeds, he wraps you in his arms and tells you how much he loves you. He always makes sure to say it after that, telling you in the morning when you wake up and at night when you go to bed together, the memory of not having you there to hear it all too fresh. 

Law: Law is pretty bad with words, and, for lack of a better term, he sort of lacks a bedside manner. Needless to say, this carries over into other aspects of his life, including his love life (or lack thereof; Law has little to no experience in this arena). One afternoon, though, the two of you are fighting because you want to accompany Law somewhere and he insists it’s too dangerous despite all of your qualifications and skills as a fighter. You keep pressing and pressing, demanding to know why he won’t let you go when you are perfectly capable, until finally he blurts it out. “I love you! Alright? And I won’t lose you.” You aren’t even in any sort of relationship at that point, the two of you just sort of stewing in unresolved tension. His irate confession is the tipping point, and you become an item after that. When you hear it from him after that, it’s always in private, usually in the late hours of the night when he slips into bed and buries his face in your neck. Other times, it’s when you two pass each other in the hallway aboard the Polar Tang and he catches your hand in his, placing a warm kiss on your knuckles, muttering the words, and moving along quickly for fear someone might see despite the entire crew knowing about your relationship. 

Kid: You say it first. You say it a couple of times, actually, before you ever hear it back. You’re sitting in his workshop watching him build something, and you just sort of blurt the words out. You swear Kid hesitates before picking up the next piece of metal, but he gives no real acknowledgment you uttered those three words. Knowing exactly the sort of man he is and not expecting to receive anything in return, just wanting him to know how you feel in the moment, you aren’t actually offended, but you are wondering if he didn’t hear you. So, the next day in his workshop, you say it again, once more receiving no response. The third time you say it to him, catching him while he’s painting his nails, you receive a grunt in response (Kid is a man of grunts, not a man of words). Only in the heat of battle do you hear it back. He catches you around the waist and picks you up, and you fight thinking it’s an enemy, only for him to say, “I love you,” in your ear before deflecting a canon ball headed straight for the two of you and then setting you on your feet like nothing happened. From that point forward, he’ll say it, but only at inopportune times.  

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[vsimp]

say something (song drabble) - inspo

word count: 2.9k

pairings: alhaitham, ayato, childe, xiao, zhongli/morax (x reader)

genre: angst/hurt/no comfort

summary: they lose you

Warning: presumed death/injury of reader, mentions of blood

Alhaitham x "I’m giving up on you"

Arguments with no happy endings. Rough words that could never be taken back or forgotten.

Alhaitham was the true definition of stubborn.

It was “rationality,” as he so called it. He liked to say things as it is, and there was no need to include your emotions into these conversations, as they influence your motives and produce bias.

Technical, yet cold and harsh at the same time, Alhaitham would leave no room for arguments when he knew that he was in the right. To even validate your feelings would be impossible for him because that was who he was; an intuitive scholar who knew wisdom beyond his years.

Then when was his wisdom too much for others to bear? Was there truly such a thing as too much knowledge?

He couldn’t even fathom such an idea.

And as he argued with you, his mind only thinking of rationality, reason, logic, and analysis, he deliberately ignored the way your tears streamed down your cheeks, how your hoarse voice broke as you cried about your relationship with him.

He then doubted himself for ever thinking he could get into a relationship. Hah. Something like this could never work out again. You both were just too different, or so that was what he’d tell himself as you both slept in separate rooms that night.

But as the house grew emptier and emptier, as you moved all of your stuff out, taking every single thing in his home that made it feel like… an actual home… he grew strangely uncomfortable.

Even as he looked back to that day of the argument, he knew he was right, and that your worries were of no substance. But why did your expression shake up his heart? Why did you make his chest ache? And why did he suddenly feel so empty all of the sudden?

The questions were answered very soon, after every single one of your items have been removed from his house.

And it was at that moment when Alhaitham realized that his house no longer felt like home. And then he realized the true reason for those inexplicable emotions, as he found the present he gave you during one of your birthdays. It was a promise ring, adjourned with your favorite gemstone. He remembered how you loved it so much that you would never take it off your finger.

Yet here it was, left on a note with one simple word.

“Goodbye.”

That was the day when he figured out quickly that even if he had all the knowledge in the world, nothing else could have mattered more, for as long as he had you, he would be the happiest man in the universe. It was a severe lapse in judgment on his part, and a true mistake that he so bitterly had to realize far too late.

He had lost you. You had given up on him.

He had nobody else to blame but himself.

Kamisato Ayato x "I’m still learning to love"

As the head of the Kamisato Clan, Ayato always had to remain vigilant at all times. He had to prepare for any worst case possible while also trying to actively prevent it from happening. It was the reason why he wore a mask around everybody who he knew.

He feared that if he were to let his guard down, revealing what truly laid underneath the mask, they would take advantage of his vulnerabilities and strike down everything he was ever trying to protect.

And that was the reason why he never trusted you, his own spouse. He had agreed to a marriage with you quite easily, as your family had something he wanted, and in exchange, he would take your hand in marriage, thus binding you and your family tree to the prestigious Kamisato Clan.

Ayato had assumed the worst about you, as your family had not given him the best impression either.

As he got to know you, however, he found that you were beyond his expectations. You were kind, compassionate, and intelligent. You did everything you could so that the clan and the Yashiro Commission could thrive.

You comforted him on the days when he truly was stressed out from all of his work, took on his pain as if it were yours. Not only were you beautiful, but you made him feel as if everything was going to be truly okay in the end, so long as you could give him that smile.

He almost admitted to himself that he had fallen in love with you.

Yet, a silly ploy from your family, one of spite over the fact that you were thriving in such a place, had ruined your marriage into shambles.

Ayato had lost his trust in you. Your family had planted false incriminating evidence, one that insinuated that you were plotting the downfall of the Yashiro Commission. You weren’t able to defend yourself, and you asked him if he really thought you were the type of person to commit such atrocious acts.

His eyes wavered for a moment at your question. But the "you" in his memory grew fuzzy as the thought that everything he was trying to protect was being jeopardized, that he shouldn’t throw everything he’s built over a mere spouse. That you were one of the people trying to harm him and his family.

That night, he muttered cold words to you. As if you were never even considered part of his family at all. As if all of those memories you two once shared never mattered. You were but an outsider to him at this point.

Since the diplomats of the Yashiro Commission grew suspicious of you, pressuring him to take action, he threw you out of the household that day. Perhaps he never loved you as much as you thought he did.

With no place to go, you ran out of the estate with only some small mora and clothes.

The estate remained cold without your presence there. No longer would he be surrounded by your brightness. But a traitor wasn’t worth mulling over, or so that was what he kept telling himself as he constantly found himself looking beside him, where you would usually be.

It wasn’t until a month later did his sister Ayaka uncover the truth. She and Thoma were the only people who believed in your innocence. She presented it to Ayato, and for the first time ever, he had never seen his sister so angry at him.

Regret and guilt washed over him immediately. What had he done? He had truly messed up. But he didn’t know that it was all a ploy, and he was just trying to protect the Yashiro Commission. Surely, you would understand. Right?

His heart ached for his lover as he ran all over the streets to find you. Ayaka had told him where you had been staying. He wasted no time to get there as soon as he could.

Ayato couldn’t forget the way those cold eyes of yours looked at him. He tried to apologize, but you just gave him a look of disappointment. It was like a slap to his face, a harsh wake up call as reality hit him. Maybe if he had trusted you more, maybe if he had trusted in his own love for you more, this would have never happened.

And yet, here you were, in the middle of a ragged, old inn that you could barely afford without the help of his sister, your clothes worn out as you had been doing everything by yourself the last month, and your cold eyes that no longer held the same love and affection for him as before— he knew that there were no more chances for him.

You slammed the wooden door shut in front of his face that day.

Childe x "I will swallow my pride / you’re the one that I love"

“You don’t understand. This is my job as the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger. My only duty is to serve the Tsaritsa. I can’t always be there for you.”

Those were his cold words that pushed you away. He was too blind to see what was truly in front of him at the time.

Childe strived for strength. He enjoyed fighting you, as he felt that you were both equal in terms of strength, and that he could grow in power with you. But that was all he saw you as—a sparring companion.

So when you started to hope for more, he instantly grew detached. It was like walking through a narrowed tunnel, where the only thing he saw was his goal.

There were no emotions as you confessed your love to him. An apathetic gaze that shook your emotions to your very core. It was only then that day when you realized that the heart you wanted to capture was unreachable. He had built icy walls that were impenetrable.

So you decided to give up on him.

Childe didn’t think too much of it. You were just a battle partner to him anyways.

He told himself that, but why did his heart ache when he recalled your tears? Why did he suddenly feel empty now that your presence was no longer there?

The silly jokes you’d tell him, the delicious food you would cook for him, the smile you’d give to him, and him alone— you were no longer there to provide that comfort that he had missed from being so far away from home for so long. Perhaps he had even started to see you as his home outside of Snezhnaya.

He realized that all of this time, he really did love you. He loved you so much, yet he was too caught up in his beliefs to realize it. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, to start a family with you, to have and to hold you until eternity has reached its end.

So he set down his pride, put aside his duties to the Cryo Archon temporarily, and he went to see you that day. And unfortunately, it had been too late.

You were smiling at another man, and he had lost you. And then he realized the true extent of the pain you felt that day when he had broken your heart.

Xiao x "anywhere, I would’ve followed you"

Xiao would never admit that he needed a companion in his life. It was his fate, his contract with destiny to serve and protect Liyue for the rest of his life, even if it cost him his very own.

He always isolated himself from the mortals, like a lonesome Qingxin blooming at the highest stone peaks. He looked down from height above, but never got too deeply involved with the matters of the mortals. It was only time, however, when somebody decided to climb those mountains and pluck him off the ground.

A hindrance to his daily affairs, and a nuisance whenever you followed him around, he knew it was his fault for forming a contract with you.

If you called his name, he would come. That was what he promised you. Be it for serious matters, whenever you needed his help with something, or for something more trivial, such as having a simple meal with you.

It was irritating to be called so frequently, but he was a man who kept true to his words.

It wasn’t until one day, you had made his favorite almond tofu dish and then called him over. It hadn’t even been a whole day yet since you’d last called for him, and you were already wanting to see him.

He had enough at this point. You couldn’t get any more involved with him. After all, he had always been alone for the last 3,000 years, and the karma he has to bear living with is too much for any regular mortal to handle. He needed to push you away.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than invite me over for something as trivial as this?” He would say coldly, not even wanting to sit down at this point. “I don’t want to spend any time with you. I truly loathe people who force others to do activities that they don’t even want to do.”

His words were much harsher that day. Although a part of him did feel bad, he needed to do this. He had to, that’s what he told himself. It didn’t bother him when you started choking into tears, nor did it bother him to see that heartbroken expression that lingered on your face.

“I just wanted to spend time with the person I love.” Your voice cried out painfully as you attempted to walk closer to him. “I would follow you everywhere, through everything and anything! You just have to let me in to your heart, Xiao!”

“Do you have any idea how stupid you sound right now? I will never love a mortal like you.”

The rejection was clear as day. He didn’t love you back. All of the time he has spent with you, the way he held you up gently after fighting some monsters, his small smile when you made him almond tofu for the first time; those memories were all rendered meaningless as he cut you open with his words.

But somehow, you knew this would happen. Your eyes looked defeated as you stared at him right then and there. You gave him a heart wrenching smile, which was a look that puzzled him the most.

He could never forget the look on your face. With eyes that stained with tears, and a beautiful, forced smile, Xiao knew that this was finally the end.

“I understand. Goodbye then, Xiao.”

He shut his eyes as you disappeared from his sight. It was inevitable that you would leave that day, yet the discomfort originating from his chest would not disappear.

Yes, this was something he had to do, no matter how painful it was, no matter how attached he was getting to you.

You never called him after that for a while. He thought it was a blessing, but somehow, the silence made it even more eerie. Like a singular piece of jigsaw that was lost amongst a thousand pieces of a puzzle.

"Xiao…” he heard you say after some time had passed. A weak voice. He knew something was wrong.

There, he found you. Laid in a puddle of crimson red. Everything was in slow motion at this point to him. He wasn't even able to assess the situation before he had pulled you immediately into his arms, calling out your own name in worry.

There was no response.

Thoughts of anger and regret washed through him, just like the heavy pouring rain that diluted your blood, like thunder that roared through the lands out of despair.

That day, he realized that this was the last time you would ever call his name.

Zhongli x "I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you."

The Geo Archon was a magnificent entity, one that inspired awe and respect from many individuals. You were but one of them who admired—no, more like adored him.

You fought alongside Morax in many battles to protect Liyue. It was your pride and joy to help with this almighty god.

But as often as you tried to pursue his affections, wanting Morax to look at you and you only, his gaze never seemed to find yours.

With a look gentler than any soft breeze in the plains of Liyue herself, you had never seen such an expression from him. He looked at Guizhong with such a tenderness, even dedicating a beautiful song on the lyre for her, bringing her glaze lilies to bloom from such a lovely song. You wondered if you could ever compete with such a beautiful goddess like her.

Your hands were tainted in blood, the malice of monsters and demons leaving scars all over your hands and arms. Your words were rougher with others, as you belonged on the battlefield, compared to the wise and kind-hearted God of Dust.

You were distracted more than usual one day, and you were injured quite badly in a battle with monsters. With blood pouring from the side of your rib cage, you immediately went to Morax to seek help. You could feel his divinity from miles away, and when you arrived to the area he supposedly stayed, your heart ached as he held Guizhong’s cheeks so gently. It hurt worse than any wound that you have even sustained.

You couldn’t help but drop your weapon. The loud clang echoed through the courtyard, and that was when the man had finally and actually looked at you.

Shock had laced in his golden eyes, his hands dropped down from her cheek to his side as he had realized the state you were currently in.

Your eyes had started to glaze over, tears pouring down your cheeks as you felt your own heart break. Your emotions were so strong, yet so ugly, that even the plants had started to wilt around you. You didn’t want him to see you like this, so you immediately turned your back away from him.

“Y/n, are you okay?!” His voice shouted as his footsteps drew closer to you, but your cold voice cut him off.

“Don’t take a single step towards me, Morax.”

He paused, unsure of whether or not to continue forward judging from your tone. Even as your blood seeped to the ground, staining the earth and dyeing the flowers around you a crimson red, you remained turned away from him.

You walked away from your unrequited love, ignoring his calls and pleas as he asked you to come back so he could treat your wounds.

You shut your eyes, enveloping yourself in the darkness.

[vidavalor]

Phantom Pain

In the moments before Aziraphale realizes that he's been discorporated in S1, he is seen clutching the thigh of his right leg and limping forward. He's having trouble walking as he tells The Quartermaster that he didn't mean to be there and was still sorting things out back on Earth.

As we know, the entire point of what's going on is that Aziraphale, in this moment, no longer has a body, which means that the pain that he is experiencing in what he perceives as his leg in this ghostly moment is actually a very real human experience-- phantom pain.

For anyone who doesn't know, phantom pain is when a person experiences a perception of pain in a part of their body that is not present. It can be someone experiencing pain that feels like it is occurring in a limb or organ that they no longer have. It can also be pain experienced in a part of their body that they were not born with but which their mind experiences as being part of their corporation.

But why is Aziraphale experiencing phantom pain in his right leg when he gets to Heaven?

Why is the first thing he's feeling Up there without his body a sensation of pain in his leg so severe that has him clutching his thigh and struggling to walk before his mind begins to process that he no longer has a body? Why is it that Aziraphale is processing the shock of the sudden loss of his body in this particular way?

It is interesting when you consider that, while we've never seen Aziraphale have any injury to his right leg in the story before or any other particular significance to it, we have now had more than one scene showing us that Crowley does with his.

In 1827, Satan turns up unseen to drag Crowley to Hell. Crowley loses control of his speech, experiences nausea, and steps backwards with his left leg in an effort to try to balance himself after starting to lose control of his right leg on account of Satan grabbing him. He's dragged to Hell by his legs seconds later, separated from Aziraphale.

Back in S1's present, there's another scene like this when Satan arrives at Tadfield Air Force Base. Crowley grabs his right thigh in pain as he loses control again over his right leg and is dragged to the ground by it by Satan in an effort to make Crowley prostrate himself.

The suggestion of these scenes seems to be that Crowley's right leg, especially his right thigh, is a source of chronic episodic pain for him related to Satan's abuse. The show choosing his leg for this also goes along with its theme of living as the metaphorical walking the Earth-- a physical injury that flares up to impact living for Crowley representing how the psychological trauma related to it does the same.

Crowley's chronic episodic pain is what Aziraphale experienced as phantom pain in his leg when he discorporated because his mind immediately processed the loss of his own body in relation to how it also meant that he has lost the ability to share it with Crowley.

Without having his own body intact, Aziraphale couldn't touch Crowley. He lost the ability to bring him pleasure and comfort and that's how the loss of Aziraphale's own body manifested in his mind to him. Physical death meant the inability to experience not just his own body for himself but the loss of the safe one that Crowley consents to experiencing and enjoys to Crowley.

Aziraphale's physical death wasn't purely his own in his view because Aziraphale doesn't view his body as purely his own. Technically, it's Aziraphale's bookshop, just as it's Crowley car, but it's really always been their car and their bookshop.

They've been so intertwined for so long that Aziraphale experienced the physical death of his own body as the trauma of being separated from Crowley's. Pretty romantic stuff. 💘

[sevastiel]

Behold ye, my Protoframe oc, Darius.

(Ft @doggojin and @thatfluffyboi's Chanho n Sol, they make an delightful trio tbh)

Some extra deets (lots of notes on him be warned) post cut! :)

Separated into physical and psychological/lore.

Physical notes :

Spanish-Mediterranean, mid-to-late twenties, looms at a ridiculous 6'6" (200 cm I believe? around there.) but is normally hovering an inch or two off the ground. Thankfully, he's gotten into the habit of tucking his legs in a bit so he doesn't hit every single doorframe that he passes through. He lost his left leg from the knee down due to an unfortunate incident with a landmine, and had a prosthetic for several years before the techrot.

Darius's body is made up of connected pieces held together by sentient energy, and all of his organs have either been replaced by the techrot-sentient hybrid growths, or are no longer necessary and have been removed. He currently lacks the entirety of a regular digestive tract as we would know it, and subsists mostly on energy. However, should he require physical mass for either rebuilding/modifying himself, or creating other sentients, he can 'eat' by putting materials in his mouth, pulling his bodily pieces together, and allowing the techrot systems to dissolve things into more workable particles, or pushing things between separated segments of his body (usually his chest) and letting the sentient bits pick things apart and feed them to the rot for storage. (This takes longer and is less effective at energy conservation) Extra notes on this later when we discuss his abilities.

The connective energy between segments is manifested in string-like bundles of force, which are manipulatable and can be 'touched', though unless he's focusing on keeping his energy properly contained you will likely get a light zap, and with prolonged touch you'll likely be able to feel them hum with power. They normally have about the same tactile strength as woven spiderwebbing of the same thickness, stretching easily but ultimately severable with either enough effort or something sharp. Should you sever all the connections, the piece will just fall off. Removed pieces aren't controllable by him any longer, but are re-attachable, and although he's got a body plan that his form defaults to, every single bit of him is entirely modular except for his cranium. Removing his jaw takes some effort, as there are technically still segments of flesh (his lips, basically) holding it on, but it is possible. If he really puts his mind to it, though, he can remove a segment, and maintain the links through mental focus, or by tethering them to something that he/they can feed off of. Through this, he can make replacement limbs for others, or additional armor, given they've got the bio-energy to keep the segments active.

Bodily segments are almost entirely made of toughened armor plating, with the majority of flexibility being located on the twin pieces that make up his chest/torso, as this is also where the majority of the techrot based organs lie. Although he does need to breathe, each segment intakes oxygen individually, through the softer and more porous dark insides. He has full sensation in any piece of him that he's linked to, as the energy connections serve as a nervous system, and can 'digest' pieces if he's in desperate need of energy/materials in a pinch.

Being modular, he can, in the same way he summons other sentients, simply craft himself differing body parts whenever he so pleases. The larger the piece, the more effort/thought it takes, since it requires a greater complexity of systems for nutrient, oxygen, and waste management. Due to his own lack of knowledge, he doesn't manifest any replacements larger than his own legs, and would rather just spit out a patch and slap it onto injured areas and let the techrot do its thing. This is why his 'armor' looks less dramatic compared to actual caliban, because why the hell would he want that much weight throwing him off balance? He'll accept the techrot/sentient's desires and keep his form adjacent to it, though.

Ability wise, he's functionally pretty similar to a vampire. While he technically could subsist entirely off of regular food, it would require a lot of time and careful dieting to gather the proper resources his body needs, and his energy levels would be rather constantly low. So, instead, he just eats as much techrot as he can and prays for the best, or drinks directly from power generators when he can get away with it, or anything similar. Pure energy as a baseline keeps all his sentient systems running, and metals/proteins allow his techrot systems to keep going. Thankfully for him, he's got two boyfriends who are both quite energetic, and really don't mind his needs as much as they should.

Manifesting sentient fighters usually happens in the same way as he manifests new pieces of himself, but with the added caveat that they don't need functional internal systems for long term usage, and he can charge them up with his own power to keep them running as long as he needs. This is obviously extremely resource intensive, but if it keeps those he cares about safe, (and since it appeases the eternal need to consume and create and consume and create and consume and create) he'll do whatever he must.

Due to all of the above, he prefers particularly tight or comfortable clothing,, as it helps mitigate the changes that happen depending on his energy levels. The less he's got, the looser his pieces, and things will just fall off if he's dead tired (lol). So... Avoiding that is nice. Additionally, although he needs his chest cavity within reach for making sentients at a quick notice, he does like looking in the mirror and not seeing his own body immediately as so blatantly inhuman and monstrous. The straps he uses for his military harness are half to hold things and half to straight up just keep himself together. The mask is for keeping his eyes clear of gore while he's in the middle of shit, because that was a severe issue beforehand. Take a bite, get blinded bc there was more fluid than you expected, have to panic and try and fix that mid combat, leaving you even worse off than you were previously? No thanks.

--

Psycological notes and lore:

Before Entrati got his hands on him, he was a well respected mediator that worked on communications for the ICR, and worked directly with the Hollvanian government and its military to allow for the ICR to remain in the city.

Coming from a well off and well expecting background, from a young age he was put through his paces and taught to be the finest edition of a modern renaissance man, giving him very little time to do anything but his studies, and very little affection from anything but perfection. Even then, kinda mid. As such, he is a well mannered and well spoken fellow with a deeply repressed childish nature that only ever comes out at the worst possible times amidst the best possible company.

Having been tailor-made for communications work, he was also ensured a healthy dose in very many other skills that might come up from time to time while traveling. (Including, but not limited to, sewing (which he hates), cooking (which he has extremely low patience for), midwifery (which thank god hasn't come up yet), medical triage (unfortunately has), general electrical and mechanical knowledge (much better for him now than it was before), a few languages, and so forth. Post becoming a protoframe, much of his knowledge has degraded due to the changes required for his brain to be able to control his bio-energy, leaving him constantly irritated when faced with a challenge that he knows DAMN well how to deal with, but cant remember specifics on.

He deals with irritation and anger very expressly, not one for subtlety or sarcasm when it comes to his displeasure. This man will Not be the one making snide jabs across the table, he would instead pull you aside privately and explain quite logically the behaviors he's disliking and see if either an agreement can be reached or if another specialist should be put forth. A trait learned from his parents, no doubt, but also one that helps considerably when it comes to governmental relations and respect.

All of his emotions are generally delt with highly logically, which, when it comes to more positive or soft feelings, gets very awkward and confusing for him very fast. One might find have found him before sitting on a bench, staring up at the falling leaves. If you asked him what he was thinking about, he'd respond that he's trying to comprehend why exactly he should be feeling happy about witnessing something so mundane. He wouldn't leave, of course, he'd still watch, but there will always be a part of him that shies away from emotions as a whole. All the sweeter, imo, when he really starts feeling and letting himself feel. Love is a strange thing, isn't it?

During his time in Hollvania, he got infected through volunteer work, doing his best to actually be helpful past the eternal red-tape. He hid it for as long as he could, taking extra care to frequently wash, scrub down, and then properly bandage and ointment up the affected bits of his arms so he wouldn't risk spreading anything, but it didn't do much for him at all. He was needed to maintain good relations, often running intermediary briefing dialogues to keep both sides as up to date as possible on the ICR's doings, so duty really did pull him in half. (haha) As the rot progressed and claimed more of his body, leaving him weaker and more frequently ill, it was less and less ethically feasible for him to keep working, despite it more or less being the only thing he really knew how to do, and there being very few people who could replace him. If he wasn't doing something, if he wasn't being productive, solving problems, keeping people happy, then what was he?

And then he heard of a man with a miracle cure, our good old Doktor Friday, and the fact that it worked. Naturally, Darius paid him a visit, already having used his infected status as an excuse to let him do a bit more hands on assistance wherever he could. And Entrati indeed did give him a cure, listening and nodding along to all the reasons Darius gave as to why he would likely be a good test subject, especially if it meant that if it worked, Darius would be in an excellent position to grant Albrecht significant funding for expanding his cures to the greater populous, who needed them desperately.

Well, it sure didn't fucking do much, did it, leaving him visually better, but when word got out that the others who'd taken the cure had become super-spreaders, you bet your ass he started panicking immediately. He'd been in rooms for extended periods of time with everyone in command, just his presence might have been enough to entirely destabilize the local government, or absolutely gut the ICR. So, once more, he claimed a stomach illness to take some time off. This was a very big problem, so back he went, livid as all hell, to hunt down Entrati.

He got the whole spiel about unforeseen mutations within the techrot responding strangely, and although he didn't believe it, he already had nothing left to lose. He wasn't a soldier, sure, he had training in fencing, could handle a gun, but he couldn't help like the others could, and he could not go back to the one thing he'd been set up all his life to be. And Entrati had a bit of a twinkle in his eye when he said that there might be something that he could do, but it would take time, and multiple tests, to be able to make it all work. There was another strain Dr E was experimenting with that, as he was shown samples and heard the explanations, seemed to be able to nullify the techrot almost entirely. (It was actually just subsuming it, but visually, the two outcomes were nearly identical.)

So he said yes. Like a fucking idiot.

The initial dose laced him with the helminth strain, preparing his body, granting him strength, even though it hurt so very much, the pain leaving him borderline insensate, unable to do anything but lay there and cry as he felt his very flesh twisting and saw Entrati approach with the second dose after a few hours.

Number two was a low dose of the sentient strain, modified, following Caliban's biological approach, and the reaction between the two was violent, techrot subsumed with a rapid hunger and made to serve a new master. Darius's body quite literally began tearing at the seams, and Entrati took his time with the process, utilizing several more small injections, so he wouldn't die of pure blood loss.

When all was said and done, his twisted body was held together by a scant few threads of power, and he was very much unconscious, having fallen into a coma that would last multiple days, fed with an occasional battery set into the new cavity within his chest.

Wisely, Entrati was not there when he awoke, starving, terrified, and in great pain. All he could focus on was the hunger, that pulsating desire that screamed at him to consume, create, consume, create, consume, create, his human mind utterly overwhelmed by the twin techrot and sentient desires. It took him some time to figure out how to move again, much less walk, and the hunger only got worse by the second.

When the Hex found him, they came across a crying, shattered man, tearing into mounds of freshly killed techrot with his bare hands, stuffing wires and flesh alike into his mouth with an inhuman voracity. He was guarded by bizarre automatons, whos' origin was quickly made apparent by him reaching into that glowing gash that bisected his entire body and pulling out another, his own form splitting and reshaping as he dragged it free.

It took quite some time for him to regain his humanity. Quite some time to mediate the new desires of his reformed body with his own. The urges have not left him, but at least he's got a choice, now.

Prince of both worlds indeed.

[masoncantthinkofaname]

Hello, Mason!! 💛

(I'm so sorry in advance, this is really long).

To start, I rarely interact with shifttok or shiftblr in general, but you have been one of my favorite shifting-centered creators for several months now. I really look forward to every post you make, though I mostly see them on TikTok nowadays. But either way, they never fail to motivate me, especially the posts about your relationship with your husband and family.

It is just so comforting to see someone else who shifts alongside their partner (who is also not in this reality). That's what I do as well. Or at least that's what my ultimate goal is.

My own soulmate is someone who does not exist in this reality in any way, shape, or form, with the exception of the content I have created myself. (I'm trying very hard to avoid calling him an OC, cuz he's really not 💔). I have always felt like he wasn't just a love interest I "created" for myself since he entered my life, but that was before I knew channelling and other such things were possible. That was still in the early stages of my shifting journey, so I was figuring things out. (Over a year ago now, God time flies). But, now I know that he's the one that I was always meant to be with in the end.

I've been meaning to ask you, (though feel free to tell me if you've already talked about this), how you deal with separation here in this reality? Or any other realities where you're physically apart from your husband and your family?

It's been kicking my ass for months now. I miss my Angel more than words can express, I'm genuinely tearing up just writing all of this. I've technically never "successfully" fully shifted before, but I've had minishifts (some where I've felt or heard him). Despite this though, it feels like I've known him for a few lifetimes, which makes the physical separation 100x worse.

I usually comfort myself with art or writing, but I haven't been able to finish, (or even really start), any of my scripts lately because they just feel so empty? Like his parts are missing and my brain can't fill in the gaps. I feel like I'm in limbo, waiting to finally write these with him, cuz doing so without his input feels wrong. Not to mention I've had no time for proper art.

I have scripted a waiting room for us both, where we will shift together, and it has been my main destination for a few months now. He's there, waiting. That's where we'll physically meet for the first time. But the longer I'm emotionally attached to that place, and the more failed shifting attempts I have, the more the separation anxiety weighs on me. I know he is there and doing well, and the wait truly does not matter in the end. But my brain is so loud, and so restless, that I've just been feeling like a rat pacing in a cage of my own making recently, lol.

Like, sometimes, I genuinely catch myself caressing the air and pretending he is there like a crazy person. And when I focus hard enough, I can feel him, in my mind. Which also drives me absolutely mad.

I'm not sure when I will shift, but I know that the separation anxiety is not helping my chances of doing so soon. (I feel like it's putting unnecessary pressure on me, and making me very anxious during shifting attempts).

So I was wondering, how do you deal with it? Is that something you have to deal with at all? Or do you have any experience with similar emotions? Is there anything you do to feel more connected with your husband when you're physically apart? Like channelling, I assume.

(Also) On a side note, I have been wanting to channel my man directly so bad. But I saw some TikToks about that during the early stages of my shifting journey, and I can't get rid of this belief that if I do not have the right equipment (herbs, candles, charms, stuff like that), I will end up channeling harmful or trickster entities. I don't have the money to buy these, and I don't know how else I could protect myself, or if it is even needed at all? I know my partner's energy like the back of my hand, but I'm still inexperienced, and my mind is so foggy most days that I am too anxious to try it properly.

(Also also) Honestly, half of this ask is a sleep deprived ramble, feel free to skip it if it's too long, I promise I won't mind 😭 I drafted this before you shifted away/and back, I'll completely understand if you do not want to answer it 💖🫶🏻

First of all, there is no need to apologise, really. My responses aren't always the quickest, but I don't want anyone to feel anxious to ask for advice or reassurance, especially when you have been bottling it up!

I understand you, completely. The separation can be painful and seemingly infinitely long. You're not weird or abnormal for being affected by it.

I want to start off by letting you know channelling is nothing to be afraid of. It's natural. You have to remember you're in control, always. You don't need protection, you won't channel tricksters or bad entities. If you assume you'll be safe and only talk with your man, then that's what will happen! You can channel in so many different ways, ask for signs, send letters, he can visit your dreams, spend time around you. There are so many options to feel more connected and less alone.

I have a few established signs with my husband. Yellow flowers is one, especially sunflowers. Forget me nots, in general just hearts, and more! These are signs he has sent me so many times that it's easy to recognise them anywhere, and know it's him. You can simply just establish them with your man in a letter or through channelling, and it can help a lot with knowing he's there! Especially if you pick something that's not too uncommon for you to see, but also not something you come across daily.

Always remember that your time here is temporary, and about to be replaced with an eternity with him. No matter how painful it is, he's there, he's watching over you, and supporting you along the way. You're not alone and never will be. Remember that it will all be worth it. You're allowed to be sad about it, but try not to focus too much on the fact that you're not together yet. Instead see every interaction or minishift as motivation and an encouragement to keep going! You got this, before you know it you'll be together :)

[storm-angel989]

🎀IM SORRY FOR BLOWING UP YOUR INBOX! But Val/Vox(idrc which one) x Anorexic Daughter Reader?🎀

PLEASE READ BEFOREHAND

Hi Friend,

You’re not blowing up my inbox- I keep every request in a google doc and when inspo hits I work on it! If I ever decide I won’t do a request I won’t just delete it- I’ll post and say it directly <3 

Preface for this work:

 I’m considered a plus sized equestrian/plus sized human. Eating disorders come in all shapes, sizes and issues. I believe it’s Blythe Barid who said “If you develop an eating disorder when you are already thin to begin with you go to the hospital. If you develop an eating disorder when you are not thin to begin with, you are a success story.”

Stories like these are based on my own experiences and issues- and on this topic, I’ve had quite a few. Please remember that all bodies are worthy of love and respect, care and concern. It's a tough concept to wrap our heads around, and admittedly I still struggle with it. 

A little background info: 

ED’s are a huge part of my writing that I haven’t published. Ana and Mia are characters I have created (or maybe my own food issues created them). Either way, they’re  separate entities for separate stories- demons that I imagine have their own place in hell as well as in my writings (all of which have been in existence far longer than Hazbin). That being said, naming your ED is something I did and I have done. Even for the purpose of writing this story, the entire thing felt wrong without Ana running the behind the scenes. 

With this one I tried to pain the pain, the anger and frustration behind that never feeling good enough feeling. I would be open to doing part two if folks would be interested. Please also know I’ve written on this topic in several other forms if you explore my masterlist (or I can directly send you the links if you PM me). 

<3 Mandy 

I stepped on the bathroom scale and looked at the number that flashed below. The words of my coach echoed in my mind- I needed to lose the summer weight, or else I would be benched for the rest of the season. She had helpfully provided me with a journal to keep track of my weight, what I ate in a day, activities I did and how many calories I burned in accordance with my VoxTech watch. 

A month ago, I had met her goal, thus ending the weekly weigh-ins. According to her, I had lost enough weight to maintain my place on the team. It was on me now to make sure that I maintained that weight, or lost more. In her exact words, you could never be too skinny. 

“Bebita? Breakfast,” my fathers voice called from the hallway. “Come on, before it gets cold.”

The number told me I hadn’t gained weight, but I hadn’t lost weight either. I picked my backpack up and slung it over my shoulder. 

“Sorry, Dad! I’m late! I’ll eat at school, I promise,” I answered back as I rushed out the door. 

Surely skipping breakfast wouldn’t hurt. 

Skipping breakfast turned into skipping lunch. Skipping lunch turned into avoiding dinner. Sugar free jello and skinny pop became my go to snacks as the numbers in my book slowly but surely began to get smaller. Somewhere, a little voice inside my head began to cheer my successes on the scale. Over time, I learned that she had a name. 

Ana. My secret diet partner. My invisible cheerleader. The willpower I needed to keep going on the hardest days. And most importantly, someone who paid attention to me, 

With each passing day, Ana grew louder. She encouraged me to keep my diet a secret from my family. After all, they wouldn’t understand. Pleasing her, it became almost like an addiction- a game I played with myself to see just how little I could become. Food became nothing more than numbers, an obsession that consumed every minute, every second of my thoughts and desires. 

In my household, it wasn’t hard to keep it to myself. Hell, one could argue that I wasn’t technically even keeping it a secret. My father had a very important job, after all. And my Auntie Velvette and Uncle Vox also wouldn’t have had the opportunity to make the connection. A quick, I ate earlier, sorry! And I got off scott free. Ana cheered with each no thank you I uttered. My head between my knees after practice had become a ritualistic practice. Waiting for the black spots to fade, taking deep breaths to try to regain the energy to stand up and walk out to the awaiting limo. It wasn’t like there was anyone waiting at home for me anyway. 

On the daily, I kept a careful eye on my voxtech watch. The first time my blood sugar dropped, I got a call from Vox. Paniced waves rushed through me. A suggestion from Ana to bribe to a friendly tech demon. A brief trade later, I had constant vitals being sent from my watch, my real ones hidden behind a password. With this newfound freedom, outside of homework and practice, my time normally devoted to hobbies or hanging out with friends became time to sleep. After all, I was working on the perfect body. I needed my rest. 

For almost six months, Ana and I were best friends. 

Saturday morning. Game day. One of the busiest days for my father. After all, lust and depravity raked through the weekends like wildfire. Or at least, that was what he claimed. I stood in front of the mirror trying desperately to tighten the drawstring 

“Hey bebita?” I heard my fathers voice call from the hallway. “Baby, are you up?”

“Yeah, Dad. I have a game today,” I snapped as I tied another knot in the string. 

Why the fuck wouldn’t these stupid shorts stay up? I fumed to myself. Every part of my body ached, and even yanking on my shorts sent black spots and exhaustion rushing through my body. I leaned my head against the mirror and tried to take a deep breath. I could do this. I had to do this. 

The next thing I heard was my fathers voice, felt his hand shaking my shoulder. It took every ounce of energy to open my eyes. 

“Bebita? Reader, can you hear me?” Valentino asked frantically. “Princessa, wake up, now!”

“I’m fine,” I muttered as loudly as I could. Somehow, I managed to push myself upright. 

“You most certainly are not fine,” he replied sharply. “I’m taking you downstairs to the doctor, right now.”

Doctor. That meant I would miss the game. No, I had an obligation to my teammates. Somewhere in my head, Ana screamed.

Get up, fatass!

You really want to fuck this up for everyone?

You better not let him take you to the doctor, you do that and you’ll never find perfection. 

“I’m fine,” I growled, louder this time. I pulled myself to my feet and black spots dotted my vision. I felt my fathers arms around me and in seconds, I was off the floor and in his arms.

“Put me down, I can walk,” I tried to yell. Inside my head, Ana screamed louder, demands and insults about my current predicament. I pressed my hands to my head and curled my fingers in my hair, “Dad let me down NOW!” 

He ignored me as he carried me down the hallway. 

“Vox? Velvette? Both of you, with me. Now. We have a problem.” He said loudly. 

“Woah, what’s going….” Vox’s voice began. 

I shoved my hand against my father as he walked through the living room.  To my relief, he set me down on the couch. 

“What?” I snarled as three sets of eyes stared at me. “What the fuck are you looking at?” 

Vox checked his phone and then walked over to me. With one finger, he lifted off my Voxtech watch. 

“Hey! Give that back!” I demanded. “I’m going to be late to my game!”

All three of them ignored me. Wordlessly, Velvette walked away and returned moments later, bathroom scale in hand. She set it infront of the couch and gave me a hard look. 

“Step on.” 

“Fuck you,” I snapped as I stood up. I tried to ignore the black spots that danced just out of sight. “My weight is none of your fucking business.”

“Reader!” Valentino said in dismay. “That’s no way to talk to your Aunt.”

“I’m leaving, I’m already late. Thanks, Dad,” I continued sarcastically as I kicked the scale aside. 

Inside, Ana cheered. I bent down to pick up my backpack and the world around me spun. Three steps,  and Vox’s hand gripped my upper arm. The last thing I heard was Ana’s voice screaming indistinguishable words. 

When I came to again, I found myself in a room of gray and blue. Wires stuck out from my chest, and I tried to cough and spit the feeling of something painful in the back of my throat. I tried to reach up, to shove my fingers down my throat, and my skin met padded white cuffs. 

What the fuck?

You’re going to have to work hard to get yourself out of this one, Ana taunted. Great job getting caught, fatass. 

“Hey, baby, it’s alright, Papi is here,” I heard my father’s voice say somewhere far away. 

“Mr. Valentino, I promise we’ll be in touch when she’s more stable,” a new voice said. “For now, it might be best to give her some space to…”

Indistinguishable arguments. My fathers refusal and reminder of who exactly was in charge here. My Uncle Vox and Aunt Velvette chiming in, a mix of talking him down and agreement. 

Panic shot through me as the haze slowly began to wear away. Realization. Through the fog, only one word came to mind. 

Fuck.

[snitchcrimsonwrites]

Drawn Together-Chapter 11

Paring: Tech x Jedi! Reader

What happens on Bracca? You and Tech continue to explore the dynamics of your relationship, and things are going great... till Crosshair shows up.

Chapter 10

Chapter 12

The corridor was quieter on the walk back to camp. Tech’s hand brushed against yours now and then, each pass deliberate and unhurried. You turned the corner to the central bay where your makeshift camp was set up, the scent of warming rations filled the air, and you could hear Echo and Hunter talking nearby.

As you drew closer, you noticed Echo sitting perched on a crate, hunched over a dented tin of caf and lazily poking at a protein square that had seen better days. Hunter was beside him, mug in hand, alert even in stillness, eyes quietly scanning the room between measured sips.

As soon as they noticed you both, their conversation gradually slowed down. It wasn’t a dramatic shift, but it was evident. Echo’s gaze flicked between the two of you, one brow arching with interest. Hunter tilted his head just slightly, a subtle shift that meant he was noting everything: posture, proximity, the way your shoulder brushed against Tech’s for a fraction too long.

Hunter glanced over you two, as sharp-eyed as ever. “You two were gone longer than a salvage run takes. Everything alright out there?”

“Operationally, yes,” Tech replied without hesitation. He stepped forward and set the salvaged power relay on the deck between them. “We recovered several functional components, including this. And five hydrospanners.”

“Six,” you corrected with a small smirk, brushing the dust from your hands.

Hunter’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Uh-huh.”

Echo took a slow sip from his caf, watching over the rim with obvious amusement. “Must’ve been a thorough search. Either that, or salvage work’s gotten a lot more… involved.”

Tech didn’t flinch. “The search itself was efficient. Any deviation occurred after the primary objective had been met.”

Hunter, credit to him, appeared unfazed. “Whatever’s happening between you two, keep it separate from the mission. We already have enough variables without adding personal complications.”

You and Tech answered in sync.

“Understood, Sergeant,” you said, giving a crisp mock-salute that made Echo chuckle.

“Affirmative,” Tech added, voice firm. “Personal developments will not interfere with tactical performance.”

Hunter’s nod was brief but approving. “Good.” A pause. Then, dryly: “Still not sure I’ll ever get used to giving orders to a Jedi general.”

You blinked and then offered a half-smile. “I’m not your commanding officer, Hunter. I’m just part of the squad now. And grateful for it.”

Echo nudged the heating plate. “Food’s still warm. Barely. But still technically edible.”

“Acceptable parameters,” Tech murmured, setting the salvaged parts aside and settling beside you on the crate. His shoulder bumped yours again as he sat, and this time, neither of you shifted away.

Echo squinted. “You know… I’ve seen him duck behind a Gonk droid to avoid small talk.”

Hunter’s mouth twitched. “Guess he’s evolving.”

“I am sitting right here,” Tech said flatly, though the corner of his mouth quirked, almost going unnoticed.

“We know,” Echo and Hunter replied in unison.

Hunter rose to pour himself more caf, shaking his head with a resigned smile. Echo leaned back against the wall, lips tugging upward as he muttered, more fond than exasperated, “Maker help us.”

—-------------------

The team convened around a cluster of unconscious scrappers, who were unceremoniously slumped against a crate after their earlier capture by Echo, Wrecker, and Omega, as the Batch considered their next steps.“Rex warned us about scrapper patrols,” Echo said. “Bracca’s full of them, especially near the core ships. We’ve pushed our luck. We should leave.”

“In our current situation, we need credits,” Hunter countered, his voice determined. “And this cruiser gives us a shot at a decent haul.”

“In this junk pile?” Wrecker scoffed. “How? Maybe Echo’s right.”

“Scavenging’s our best chance at clearing our debt,” Hunter said. “And this wreck is loaded.”

He turned to Tech, who was already scrolling through a cluster of readings on his datapad. “Tech, what’s the potential haul looking like?”

Tech adjusted his goggles, nodding once. “My scans confirm the armory and artillery bay remain largely intact. They were likely bypassed due to the flooded understructure… and the dianoga we encountered yesterday.”

Hunter’s tone sharpened. “So if we reach the stockpile…”

“We’ll have enough credits to pay off Cid and still come out ahead,” Tech confirmed.

“We’re soldiers, not smugglers,” Echo snapped, not keen on the idea. “This doesn’t sit right with me. General? What do you think?”

You take a moment to reflect. “Echo, I’m not a general anymore, and I really don’t feel like I should be the one making that decision.” You glance at Hunter before adding, “Hunter’s instincts have been doing a great job keeping us alive, and right now, that feels like more than enough for me.”

Echo frowns, “But you still believe in something. Doesn’t this cross a line?”

You connect with his gaze, a small hint of uncertainty reflecting in your eyes. “If I’m being honest, I’m still figuring out where the lines even are.”

“There is no Republic anymore for us to rely on anymore. We’re presented with an opportunity here. We have to take it.”

Tech clears his throat to continue. “Additionally, if I can reach the central systems on the bridge, there’s a chance the ship's central systems have the potential to be worth far more than any weapon.”

Hunter gave a short nod. “Then that’s your target. Get to the bridge, pull what you can. We’ll secure the lower decks.” He turned to you, where you stood nearby, eyes already on the perimeter. “Think you can take over watch?”

“Gladly,” you replied. “Though if someone wouldn’t mind lending me a comm, I’d prefer not to shout dramatically if we get visitors.”

Wrecker tossed his unit without hesitation. “Here. I’ll stick with Omega,” giving his little buddy a soft nudge on the shoulder.

You caught it midair, clipping it to your belt. “Thanks, big guy.” Wrecker blinked as he observed you approach the towering wreckage. “You really gonna climb that?” Already predicting your next course of action.

You smirked. “Only way to get the best view.” As you began your ascent, Tech glanced up from his datapad. His eyes observed you, intensely tracking your every movement as you demonstrated your agility with a sequence of timed and precise climbs, jumps, and tightrope walks as you navigated the vertical structure.“She’s remarkably agile,” he murmured, almost to himself. Then, more audibly, “Just… exercise caution. That superstructure hasn’t been stable for some time.”

You toss him a thumbs-up, acknowledging that you heard his warning, but you are already halfway up. Navigating between warped girders and fractured plating, you reach the ship’s summit, crouching behind the rusted barrel of an old AA turret, the graveyard of Bracca stretching out for miles before you. You tapped the comm. “In position. I’ve got a visual on the approach and the south ridge. No movement yet.”

Hunter’s voice came back, low and calm. “Copy that. Stay sharp.” You adjusted your hood against the wind and settled in, fingertips grazing your holstered blaster, and the staff Tech had crafted for you rested by your side, secured to your belt, ready in case of any manifested action.

Below, the team split into formation to search the weapons depot. Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, and Omega made their way through a dim corridor until they reached a sealed blast door. Wrecker shoved it with a grunt, and the metal groaned open. Inside, racks of weapons and stacked crates stretched wall to wall. “Bigger than I expected,” Hunter murmured, running a hand along a row of blaster rifles.

“Most of these are perfect!” Wrecker said, hoisting a rotary cannon over his shoulder with a grin.

Hunter popped open a munitions locker and began searching. “Let’s make this worth it.”

After a few minutes, Omega’s comm crackled. Tech’s voice filtered in, clipped and precise. “Omega, I require your assistance on the bridge.” She looked up from examining a curious-looking device, “Be right there.” Jogging through the halls, she reached the bridge. The doors were already cracked open, and she spotted Tech beneath one of the consoles, tools in hand.

“How’s it looking?”

“We’re in luck. Whoever scuttled this ship didn’t wipe the hardware’s data imprint,” He explains, not bothering to move from beneath the console. “I’m transferring the files now, but I still need to copy the master drive,” He explains, extending a data stick towards her. Omega kneels next to him, accepting it from his hand. “The port will be on that console across the room,” he pointed without looking up.

As she initiated the data transfer, Omega looked out the viewport. The horizon was littered with various ruined Star Cruisers, cargo freighters, and fighter ships. “What was it like?” she asked. “The war?”

Still working, Tech replied without hesitation. “It was a primary mission objective, comprised of battles executed across numerous systems.”

“But… what was it like?” she pressed.

There’s a pause as he hesitates, then replies, confused. “I just told you.”

“Okay…” she draws out the word, then grins slightly. “Can I ask something else instead? It’s kind of personal.”

He doesn’t look up. “You may,” permitting her to continue.

“What about you and Y/N?” she asked, “Do you… like her?”

A sharp clunk followed as Tech’s head met the underside of the console. He muttered something under his breath and emerged, goggles askew.

He glances sideways at her. “I fail to see how that line of questioning aligns with our current objective or relates to wartime experience.”

Omega stifled a laugh. “I said it was personal. I didn’t think it was a secret or anything.”

“It’s not,” Tech replies matter-of-factly, smoothing the crease in one of his gloves. “I simply didn’t anticipate you being the one to initiate the topic.”

She gave a casual shrug, mischief in her smile. “Just curious.”

Tech studied her momentarily, then answered with quiet sincerity, “Y/N and I have seemingly formed a meaningful connection. To my current understanding… those feelings are mutual.”

A smile began to form on her lips, but before Omega could respond, a shrill beep echoed from the console. Omega pointed to the flashing red light, which was now blinking on the console. “What’s that?”

Tech stepped over, eyes scanning over the console. “Proximity alert. Could be faulty due to structural damage…”

“Uh, we’ve got company,” your voice interrupted over comms. “Three ships are just about to touch down northeast of the cruiser. Imperial transports, patrol-class.”

Omega and Tech rushed to the cruiser’s viewport. In the distance, three sleek ship silhouettes descended onto the scrapyard. Hunter’s voice came in sharply. “You sure it’s not more scrappers?”

Tech answered grimly, confirming. “No… It’s the Empire.”

Hunter’s voice breaks through the comms. “ Assemble at the bridge. We’ll assess and strategize our next action. Y/N, get low and out of view. Immediately."

“Already on it,” you reply as you make your way down the cruiser’s decaying exterior. On your descent, you spot a rusty maintenance hatch, slip inside, and after a few minutes emerge on the bridge next to Tech and Omega, who are watching the ships through the dusted-over viewport. You tap your comm and provide an update, “With Tech and Omega.”

Within minutes, the entire squad had gathered at the edge of the bridge window, where the trio of Imperial shuttles arrived in perfect formation below. Faint hydraulic hisses filled the air as the ship's ramps descended, and troopers clad in black armor exited in tight formation.

“How many troopers?" Echo asked as Hunter surveyed the incoming threat through a set of binoculars. “Three attack shuttles’ worth. However, that’s not the only issue.” As something else piques his interest during his scan. “It’s him," Hunter gradually lowers his binoculars, affirming his observation. In front of the lines of the troopers stands Crosshair.

Tech is already engaged, working to reduce the threat as his fingers move swiftly across his datapad. “He won’t be able to detect us. I’m blocking their scanners.” Hunter’s voice tightened, “That won’t stop Crosshair.”

“We already got what we came for,” Wrecker growls, arms crossed. “Let’s get to the Marauder before we’re boxed in.” But Hunter’s eyes don’t leave the viewport. “Too late. They’re already inside. We need a covert way out.”

“They’ll start forward and sweep aft,” Echo says, almost as though he's quoting from the regulation manual. “We use alternating corridors. Slip their formation.”

Hunter turns sharply. “ Let’s move,” getting the squad in gear. “Talk to me, Tech, options?”

“I’m trying to tap into the regs’ comms so we can monitor their movements.”

A metallic clang echoed nearby. Too close. You and Hunter spoke in unison. “Someone’s coming.” Hunter raised a hand, and the squad dropped into a crawlspace just as troopers stomped past. The sound of their boots reverberated down the hallway as they swept the ship.

A soft chime from Tech’s datapad broke the tension. “I’m in. They’re heading toward the hangar.”

"Are we still going to the hangar?" Omega asks. “Not anymore," Hunter replies. “We’ll take the artillery deck instead. Let’s keep one step ahead of their sweep."

The team moved swiftly, navigating the hallways and carefully sidestepping any open spaces. You fall into step beside Tech and whisper thoughtfully, keeping your voice just above a murmur, “If Crosshair’s on the ground, we’ll have to be more than fast. He knows how your moves.”

Tech continues to concentrate on his scanner. “Fortunately, I’ve also spent time contemplating his thought process." They turned a corner, crossing onto the artillery deck, and stopped short. Troopers obstructed the way ahead. "You were saying?”

From the shadows, Crosshair appeared, accompanied by a team of elite soldiers. His voice sliced through the air, his tone calm yet laced with venom. “Tapping our comms? Really? Predictable.”

As the troopers closed in, you, Echo, and Tech slipped between the shadows of two massive artillery control systems, while just beyond the cover, Hunter, Omega, and Wrecker found themselves somewhat caught in the open, hemmed in by Crosshair’s squads.

Wrecker glanced out slightly to mock his former squadmate, “Nice to see you too, Crosshair.”

Crosshair didn’t take the bait. His rifle was already half-raised. “This ends now. Surrender. Or don’t.” His voice was as empty as it was final. “Makes no difference to me.”

Tech spared a quick glance over his shoulder, assessing the systems they stood between. “Echo,” he said coolly, “scomp in and reroute reserve power to the artillery cannons.”

Echo’s head whipped toward him, disbelief plain on his face. “If we fire those, this entire deck could come down on us.”

“That is the idea,” Tech replied without hesitation, his tone disturbingly calm given the circumstances. His gaze flicked briefly toward you. “I’ll need you to mitigate any impact of catastrophic debris on us. ‘Discreetly,’ if possible.”

You nodded once, bracing yourself as your stance instinctively shifted. One hand brushed the haft of your staff while the other lingered at your side, palm flexing subtly, waiting for Tech’s signal.

From his location, Crosshair tilted his head slightly. His gaze landed on you for the first time; his lip curled just enough to register contempt. “Well,” he muttered, “picked up another stray, have you?” He looked past you to Hunter. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Crosshair, wake up,” Hunter urges, attempting to buy Tech some time while also trying to convince Crosshair, “you’ve got an inhibitor chip that's controlling you.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Omega reinforces.

Echo’s whisper came tight and fast as he finished diverting the power systems. “Systems online in three… two… one.” Tech’s hand slammed down on the activation pad, completing the process. “...Done.”

A moment later, a thunderous hum resonated across the deck as the artillery cannon came to life. Its barrel glowed with intense energy. Then, with a massive roar, it discharged, causing the entire deck to shudder. Panels buckled. Bulkheads twisted. Support struts splintered like twigs. Echo was correct; the entire deck they stood on was collapsing bit by bit.

Hunter moved first, seizing the moment. “GO!” he barked, rolling into the chaos and unleashing a volley of blaster bolts that dropped two troopers before they could return fire.

You clutched your staff firmly as a panel tore loose from the ceiling, rapidly descending onto the squad below. You turned swiftly, your staff slicing through the air just as the falling object suddenly veered off course, changing its path. It slammed downwards into a cluster of troopers with a jarring force. To any observers, it seemed like debris redirected by the aftershock.

Without pausing, you leapt into the chaos. Your staff spun in your hands, dampening any stray blaster fire. As you did, a trooper lunged. You pivoted low, sweeping his legs out from under him in one fluid motion. As he dropped, you drove the butt of your staff into his chest, forcing the air from his lungs in a gasping wheeze.

Another soldier aimed his rifle at you. "Wrecker! To the left!" you yelled while turning to confront the next attack.

“On it!” Wrecker barreled forward like a battering ram, plowing through two confused troopers with a resounding crash. He aimed his blaster and shot at close range at the third soldier, who toppled over the edge of the deck.

Hunter pointed to a potential exit, a narrow access shaft still connected to the upper deck, partially obscured by smoke and debris. “That’s our way out! Move!” Behind them, the artillery deck buckles with a final groan, collapsing inward into a tangled storm of debris and metal.

“That should slow them down,” Tech announces, sounding a bit too pleased with himself.

Echo hauled a stunned elite trooper out of their path, muttering, “Hope it slows you down next time.”

The Bad Batch sprints through a cramped auxiliary corridor as sparks rain from overhead conduits. The groan of falling metal echoes around them, punctuated by the distant shouts of Imperial troopers.

“Follow me,” Tech calls, eyes flicking between his datapad and the path ahead. “We’ll have to escape down by the engines!” They round a corner and skid to a halt.

“We’re cut off!” Echo shouts, raising his blaster. Blocking their path is an elite trooper with a compact flamethrower unit mounted on his arm. The trooper ignites it, sending a surge of fire barreling toward them. The heat pulses forward, and you instinctively react, grabbing Tech by the back of his armor, yanking him behind you as you pivot, placing yourself between the flames and your squad.

“Wait!” Tech exclaims, extending a hand toward you, coming to realize what you’ve done. The inferno rushes towards the Batch and stops.

Using steady, sweeping gestures, your hands move gracefully through the air. The flames arch and falter before splitting, flowing harmlessly on either side. Heat shimmers in the hallway, yet the fire never touches you.

“Now!” you shout, your voice strained with the effort you’ve put forth.

Wrecker doesn’t hesitate. He swings the massive proton torpedo off his shoulder and hurls it like a spear. “Hey, torch boy!” he bellows. The torpedo slams into the trooper, pinning him. The flamethrower sputters, its wielder trapped beneath both weapons.

“Nice arm,” you mutter, brushing a layer of soot from your shoulder as you reconvene with the Batch.

“Thanks!” Wrecker grins. “But you get all the style points!”

Tech is already on the move again, “This way. Quickly.” You follow him, ducking into a sloped access shaft that feeds into a vast cylindrical chamber, the hollowed interior of a dormant ion engine

“I didn’t think you meant through the engine,” Echo mutters, eyeing the scorched metal around them. “I could not have been clearer,” Tech replies without looking up.

Echo snorts. “Sure.”

Omega peers around the chamber, her voice hushed with awe. “I’ve never been inside an ion engine before…” “That’d be weirder if you had, kid,” Wrecker grunts, helping her duck under a low-hanging coil of melted wiring.

Tech gestures upward as they climb onto a grated maintenance platform. “These chambers are marvels of Republic-era design. This blast primer coating alone can withstand—” Wrecker slaps a heavy hand against Tech’s back, cutting him off. “Nobody cares, Tech.”

Tech falters briefly but manages to recover, his frown barely noticeable. You step closer, your hand lightly touching his shoulder, a gesture indicating that at least someone cared. He responds with a slight nod before going back to his scanner.

They push forward, weaving through the skeletal remains of the ship’s propulsion systems. Soon, they reach the chamber’s outer rim and climb to a narrow ledge that overlooks a sheer drop of hundreds of feet.

Tech turns the corner to scout ahead but suddenly halts, startled by a red blaster bolt whizzing past his head and striking the metal paneling behind him. This causes him to jerk back with a startled gasp, nearly losing his footing; however, you’re already there, one hand catching his arm, the other steadying his chest. He exhales, rattled. “Thank you,” he murmurs, voice low.

A voice cuts through the smoke and silence. “Try again, Hunter,” Crosshair drawls from above. The distortion from his helmet’s vocoder only sharpens the bite of his words. “I told you before... you’re surrounded.”

Hunter scans the area, jaw tightening at Crosshair’s words. “Fall back, we need another exit.” A deep sound rumbles beneath them; the air shifts. The massive engine walls vibrate with an ominous thrum. A sickening realization hits. The engine is coming back online.

“What is that?” Wrecker mutters, glancing around. “That’s not—”

“Sounds like the engine’s coming online, but that’s not possible, right?”Echo snaps, turning to Tech.

Tech flinches, already pulling up his datapad. “Technically, it is. When I accessed the central system, I restored the ship’s main power core, which means the engines can be activated.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence. “You mean this thing is about to fire?” Echo demands.

“Yes,” Tech replies, eyes scanning rapidly. “In less than two minutes.”

“Brilliant,” you mutter. “Anyone got a bright idea? I’d really prefer not to be burned alive today.”

Hunter glances at the heavy satchels they carried from the weapons depot. “What if we use the charges? Can we blow up the engine?”

Tech shakes his head. “The explosion wouldn’t be significant enough to rupture the housing.” “But,” he adds, “if we place them strategically around the inner cone, here, here, and here,” he points to the structural schematics, “we might be able to destabilize the core and break the cone free from the main cylinder.”

“Might?” Echo says, eyebrows raised. Tech hesitates, then glances at you. “A little… nudge from our Jedi wouldn’t hurt either.”

The floor vibrates again, even more powerfully this time. Omega’s voice is small. “If we break it loose… won’t we fall? All the way down?”

Hunter’s eyes meet hers, steady and calm despite the storm surrounding them. “It’s either that, or get vaporized. We don’t have another option.”

You step forward, placing a hand gently on Omega’s shoulder. “You won’t fall,” you say. “We’ve got you.” Omega nods, still nervous, but trusting.

Hunter snaps into action. “Grab a charge, now!” He barks over the rising roar of the engine. Wrecker swings the satchels off his back, tossing one to each of them. “Y/N,” Hunter continues, eyes scanning the upper cone struts, “You’re the fastest up there. Think you can reach the high points?”

You nod, already moving. “I’ll make it.” You break away from the group, leaping onto a vertical support beam and then propelling yourself upward, grasping an overhead strut and swinging yourself even higher. Meanwhile, the rest of the squad disperses around the base of the cone, securing charges at the locations indicated by Tech.

"Hurry up!" warns Tech. “We don't have much time!” At that moment, the inner cone starts to emit a perilous blue glow.

“Last charge’s set!” Wrecker shouts. “Priming, now!”

The charges erupt in rapid succession, thunderous blasts echoing through the chamber. The cone begins tearing away from its anchors.

From the ledge above, extend your hands and pull down in one swift motion, encouraging the structure to break away completely. The cone begins to tilt and then drops. The whole team rushes, ascending the moving metal toward a maintenance ledge. However, the floor suddenly becomes vertical beneath them.

Omega reaches for a rail but misses, crashing into Hunter. He catches her with one arm, while his other hand grips the ledge tightly. The engine’s inner workings crumble downward, smashing into the chamber’s lower hull, causing the Batch to roll uncontrollably along the interior of the engine cylinder.

“Y/N” Tech calls out amid the chaos, spotting you struggling to brace yourself mid-slide, skidding hard, unarmored, and vulnerable. He reaches out for your hand and, with a sharp pull, he yanks you close, twisting his body around yours as you tumble. His arms cage protectively around you, shielding you from debris as you crash downward in a controlled roll.

At last, the cone comes to a halt as the engine's glow flickers before finally extinguishing.

You gaze up at Tech, his full weight resting on you, arms tightly secured around your shoulders. He exhales sharply, still processing the fall. “Are you alright?”

“I think so,” you breathe.

“You’re not wearing armor. That’s... not ideal.” You let out a light chuckle as your head rests against the ground. “I’ll definitely make sure to dress for the occasion next time."

Still holding you, he glances down and realizes the position you both were in. Then, he awkwardly shifts to pull himself off with precise care. “Apologies,” he says quickly, clearing his throat. “Tactical necessity.”

“Tactical necessity acknowledged," you murmur, glancing up at him with a subtle, appreciative smile.

A groan echoes from a few meters away. “I think I bruised my everything,” Wrecker mutters from beneath a piece of warped plating. You exhale in relief and rise unsteadily to your feet, assisted by Tech’s steady hand. “Ugh,” Wrecker grunts, rolling onto his back before standing. “Remind me never to fall through an ion engine again.”

“You and me both,” Echo mutters, pulling himself out of the debris with a wince. The four regrouped quickly, but Hunter and Omega were nowhere in sight. Echo raises his comm. “Hunter, do you read? We landed portside. Do you copy?”

A burst of static, then Hunter’s voice crackles through.“We’re fine. Landed near the engine base. But we’ve got company. Attack shuttle’s lighting up the wreckage. Fall back to the Marauder,” Hunter orders. “Now.”

“Copy that,” Echo responds. “We’re moving.”

The squad scrambles up the ruptured side of the engine, and the Marauder comes into view, prompting you all to break into a sprint. As you approach, you see Hunter collapsed at the edge of the landing ramp, smoke rising from a seared blaster mark across his chest plate. His breathing is ragged, and there’s no sign of Omega.

“Hunter!” Echo drops to his knees, shaking him. Tech rushes forward. “We need to get him aboard now. Y/N, assess him the moment we’re inside.”

Wrecker covers the entrance while laying down suppressing fire as Crosshair’s squad breaks through the wreckage before them. “Go! Go!” Wrecker shouts.

You and Echo drag Hunter aboard as Tech sprints to the cockpit. “Strap in!” he shouts. “This is going to get rough!”

You kneel beside Hunter and pull open his chest plate to check the wound. It scorched clean through the outer armor, leaving a glancing impact and deep bruising, but not fatal. Still, he’s out cold. The Marauder lurches violently as it lifts off, Bracca shrinking off into the distance. Hunter coughs, groaning as consciousness returns.

“Easy,” you say, stabilizing his head. “You took a hit, but you’ll live.”

His eyes snap open. He tries to sit up. “Omega—”

“She wasn’t with you. Where is she?”

“A bounty hunter took her.” Wrecker stiffens. “What?”

Tech’s jaw tightens. “Do you know who it was?”

Hunter shakes his head slowly. “We need to find her.”

[ringleader-inky]

Lily Orchard is stupid but what else is new?

So recently Lily has made a challenge that is as follows:

(Keep these rules in mind)

And AntGr and CrimsonEnder made a list of 50 of those charcters. Which Lily responded to and hoo boy is it bad.

Now I'm only going to be doing several characters from this list because 1. I don't know some of these characters and 2. I can only handle so much of Lily's stupidity. So with that out of the way let's get this show on the road.

Of course you'd put N here because you didn't understand his story to begin with. N definitely does fall under number 2 because he was raised by Ghetsis. You know... THE LEADER OF TEAM PLASMA! I've said this before, but I'll say it again N essentially grew up in a cult. That's not even mentioning that in black and white 2 they show that some of Team Plasma really did think they were freeing pokemon. You see part of Team Plasma split because some followed N's ideologies and others followed Ghetsis. They have a whole safehouse in Driftveil City where they protect pokemon separated from their trainers. But yeah N's ideology was totally swept under the rug guys.

First of all, Donkey Kong was actually a villain. It was in his very first game where he kidnapped Pauleen. You know.... this one. You were probably around when it came out Lily.:

So technically Donkey Kong is qualified for this list believe it or not.

As for Dedede and Meta Knight their case is quite simple.

In Dedede's case in the game Kirby's Nightmare In Dreamland. Dedede literally breaks the Star Rod that powers the Fountain of Dreams. Which allows the people of dreamland to have dreams, but since the Star Rod no longer powers it there's no dreams. However Dedede did this because he was trying to keep Nightmare from absorbing the Fountain Of Dream's power and taking over the world. Nightmare is cosmic deity that's evil will destroy Dreamland if he got out. So in that instance Dedede does have a point. After all if the Star Rod isn't in the fountain then Nightmare won't come out and kill everyone.

As for Meta Knight's case. Well... just look at fucking Meta Knightmare. The reason why Meta Knight wants to conquer Dreamland is because Dreamland is lazy. While that might not seem like a good point, consider that Dedede is stealing food from the people and how there's some sort of cosmic threat every year or so. You kinda start to see his point a little bit. But if that doesn't work then how about in Squeak Squad where he steals the chest from Kirby and Daroach. The chest had Dark Nebula inside of it and was sealed away. Therefore having someone try and open it would be a big fucking problem.

Last but not least... Edgeworth:

Before we get into why this point is bullshit I'd like to bring up this ask:

I bring this up because it proves that Lily doesn't know what the fuck she's talking about. You see Edgeworth isn't just a state prosecutor. HE'S A CHIEF PROSECUTOR! He's not just some joe shmo. Also really, prosecutor can't be evil? May I call Manfred Von Karma to the stand:

In case you don't know. This man is a prosecutor that had a perfect record. All of his defendants were served the guilty sentence. However the only reason why they were found guilty was because he forged evidence. Meaning Manfred is responsible for putting people innocent in prison. He even went so far as to murder Edgeworth's father. And guess who was his protege?

That's right none other than Miles Edgeworth himself!

Meaning that up till Phoenix had arrived Edgeworth was doing the exact same thing Von Karma did. Granted not forging evidence, but still putting innocent people in jail because of he wanted to keep his reputation and he didn't care for justice. Therefore in the first game Edgeworth was the villain. Whether you like it or not. And because Lily never specified that the villain had to be redeemed or not Edgeworth is viable enough to be on this list. So check fucking mate Lily.

[casterisks]

Hi! I was gonna draw these things but being as it's been making me procrastinate on drawing it I'm just posting them in text form :)

Infection HCs / How it works in the semi-cured au.

(This is longer than I expected OOPS)

General HCs

The infection WAS a separate thing at one point from Kasper and now is very MUCH not after years of being afflicted with it. It was never in anyway conscious (after all bacteria and leeches aren't.) The closest I'd personally come to anthropromorphasizing it is comparing it to letting an extremely bastardous cat control your brain

If you cut him open everything has missing textures. (This isn't too far off!) If there's enough blood it'll go from just being a dark pink to a large ass missing texture.

Can't STAND looking into mirrors as it feels wrong to recognize himself. Completely unable to at this point.

Right after the infection REALLY hit he had a massive identity crisis and tore up a bunch of pictures of themself and threw away everything with the name "Kasper" on it

the infection takes everything from you until you're just a good little host :)))

before getting the infection his favorite color was green and he gravitated towards more neutral colors

the infection just made him gravitate towards a more scene aesthetic (and brighter colors in general)

started dating Lampert several months after that floppy and they dated until the infection got much worse (they've technically been "on break" longer than they've been together :))) )

any attempts to take meds (even benedryl) do not work because he will cough them up (similar to how people with rabies can't drink water)

used to work at the Toolbox Speedway before getting to ill / forgetting to show up to work

RIDICULOUSLY HIGH PAIN TOLERANCE. HE'S BEEN IGNORING BASICALLY ALL BODILY SENSATIONS FOR TOO LONG.

Blood, tears, and snot are the same color. he can only differentiate by taste (GROSS.)

it's incredibly RARE for the infection to latch onto a living thing, let alone a conscious one. It's filtered through a conscious mind making excuses for its existence.

he was lowkey depressed pre-infection, but got much worse when it got worse. (at the time it felt good to just let it overwhelm him)

they're all too aware of the situation but are simply apathetic (plus the infection feels good to have)

Sleeps on the couch all the time because it is a source of the infection (is unknowingly making it worse and causing back and neck pain in the process)

By the time he was denying going to a doctor about this illness it was too late. Once you start showing consistent symptoms there's no real cure for it.

He's basically always in the mindset that he's a vessel for the infection by the time you see him in game (he lowkey wants to spread it)

Semi-cured au

He got cured with an experimental pill from Dr. Retro, this works for now. Lampert and Melanie helped clean out his depression cave apartment.

all the "cure" has done is push it to the back of his mind.

he can't identify himself as "Kasper" or as "Infected", but everyone calls him kasper so he still goes with it

he feels INCREDIBLY guilty about this. he can't place himself as separate from the infection so there's always a part in the back of his mind telling him he's not actually kasper.

he spells it as "K4sper" because of this identity discrepancy

he can write "normally" with a lot of effort, but 1337 (aka leet) is much easier.

he's always been emotional, but post cure he's more irritable / upsettable due to not feeling emotions clearly

for this reason he has almost lost the ability to mask his emotions.

he has to take meds inside a kraft cheese because he can't get himself to take them on their own

STILL GROSS. WILL SNEEZE INTO HIS HANDS AND THEN TOUCH EVERYTHING IN THE ELEVATOR.

the infection isn't "pleased" that he's trying to cure it. it wants out.

before getting something to "treat" it, it was much easier to spread the illness. It's actually really painful to keep it inside as that's not its natural state.

Balance is actually shot as well. Can't skateboard due to that :(

Although the infection technically has different wants, if Kasper were to talk to it himself it'd be a lot more like talking to your subconscious. It's genuinely a part of himself at this point.

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

Could you do jackieshauna fic recs please? I loveee them!

Oh ABSOLUTELY!!! Thank you for asking!

There’s so many that I could recommend, and there’s no way I’d remember them all, so these are just some of my favourites from my bookmarks, mostly longer or multichap ones! All are complete unless otherwise stated. If you end up reading any I’d love to know what you think!

Putting them under the cut because this is a LONG post!

Check ratings before reading! Some are explicit or mature and I forgot to note that.

O Nyghtengale by nainabanaina

19k words, fantasy AU. Shauna is an exiled knight and Jackie is a Fae creature she’s instructed to kill in order to end her exile. Very pretty, nice and short novella type story. Written for The Princess and The Butcher prompt.

folie à deux by zoeyclarke

10k words, very dark. This is not a happy fic, but it is incredibly, incredibly well written. One of those fics that haunts you with how beautiful but twisted it is. Essentially a yearly ritual Shauna performs after returning from the wilderness as a way of dealing with grief. Technically major character death.

knock knock, let the devil in by TheDragonsLittleBird

58k words, Venom!Shauna AU. A very fun ride start to finish, heavy on the action and plot, mostly Shauna centric. You don’t need to know anything about Venom to enjoy the fic, but having some knowledge lets you pick up on extra little details. Author has also written incredible Spider!Lottie stories that exist in the same universe and happen before the events of this fic, but both can be read alone.

loudest are the things unsaid by 0gasstationcoffee

55k words, pre-canon. This is an explicit fic. Like, the plot is that Jackie and Shauna do progressively gayer things together while Jackie reminds Shauna that she’s totally not gay. It’s somewhat angsty, very hot, and very well written, great characterization as well. Because this technically is pre-cannon the ending is hopeful but not a ‘happily ever after’.

always be my baby by tabithatwo

343k words, incomplete. A fandom classic up there with you stay with the earth. A phenomenal read. Present day timeline au where Jackie survived, but Shauna doesn’t know that until the blackmail and other mysterious things start happening to our girls. This one has everything. Ensamble story of all our favourite ladies, suspense, action, intrigue, romance, this is a full blown novel that creates its own immersive universe. Long but worth savouring.

I feel more free than I have in years (six feet in the ground) by fowles

139k words, college au. The crash never happens but Jackie and Shauna still have their falling out, and both head to college separately, this is the story of them slowly reuniting over the four years they are apart. My summary will not do this story justice. This is THE college AU for me. Along with our in-show favourites the author also includes original characters that are part of the university journey, especially Shauna’s, and you will love them like you do the characters from the show, they are that well developed. Also featuring Jackie and Natalie bestfriendism, a huge bonus for me. If you read and liked ‘this little girl breaks furniture’ you will love this one, similar vibes.

when you look my way by shipmvn

318k words, incomplete. Honestly anything written by shipmvn you can assume will be amazing, and this is no exception. A canon-divergent fic where our team is rescued in a timely fashion and return to their lives in Wiskayok, but even though they were rescued quickly that isn’t something you move past easily. Very very slow burn, but tender and lovely all the way through.

all i wanted was you by britishngay

174k words, no plane crash AU. Set several years out of high school and after the falling out, our girls are grown up with lives and careers completely separate from each other. Until life throws them together again and they realize the tension that helped blow up their friendship is definitely still there. So they fuck about it. Friends with benefits AU, basically, but with a fully fleshed out world and plot and it’s a delicious read.

Taylor’s Eleven by mademyselfmythical

49k words, Oceans Eleven AU. Absolutely hilarious concept with flawless execution. It is what it says on the tin, it’s a heist story (or an anti-heist if you ask Jackie) but it’s also absolutely a comedy. Basically Jackie accidentally drives a getaway van and is determined to return what she inadvertently helped steal. A pure joy to read.

this little girl breaks furniture, this little girl breaks laws by Bandydear

155k words, rescued quickly but life keeps going, canon-divergent fic. Another classic. Top five if not top three JackieShauna fics I’ve read. You will fall in love with this world. Another JackieNat bestfriendism fic, and although this is technically both JackieShauna and LottieNat, Jackie and Nat’s friendship is truly the heart of this fic. Basically Jackie and Nat get a tiny flat in New York and together they learn how to live. Also one of the few fics that casually nails how fucked up Jackie and Shauna are about each other, but like, in a very much ‘match my freak’ way.

Who’s That Knocking At My Window? by nainabanaina

101k words, Vamp!Jackie AU! This fic is such a fun ride, it has a whole self contained plot and could be a book on its own essentially. Just, so much fun. Basically Jackie returns to Shauna, but a little bit wrong. Most of the story is told post-rescue.

VEAL by anaphoruh

80k words, time travel fic. This is definitely one that I’d read the summary and tags for, as it is an age gap fic (1996-ish timeline Jackie and 2021 timeline Shauna) with some darker aspects, but in my opinion it’s delicious. Incredible writing paired with exploring the darker aspects involved in Jackie and Shauna’s dynamic, but mostly in Shauna’s mind (because Shauna lived through the rest of the wilderness and then essentially another lifetime carrying the grief and the guilt of what happened out there. That doesn’t go away when some glitch it the timeline gives you back your teenage love a lifetime later.)

freeze, crash, burn, bury, linger by zoeyclarke

64k words, timeloop AU. This was one of the first longer fics I ever read for Yellowjackets! This author writes incredible fics that tend to be on the darker side, but this one is an exception. As frustrating and angsty but also funny as timeloops should be! Jackie relives the day of the crash again. And again. And again. Something has to change, right?

as i scan this wasted land, try to find the way i feel by commanderofraccoons

38k words, timetravel AU, but not in the way you think. When I first read the summary for this fic I wasn’t sure it was going to be my thing, but it was one of my first favourites I ended up discovering. Callie, Shauna’s daughter, gets yeeted back in time and space to the Canadian wilderness in 1996 with only her vape and her partially charged iPhone. Totally out of her depth, she finds an unlikely ally in Jackie, and helps mend some cracks along the way.

memento mori by britishngay

46k words, gladiator AU! Another totally wild AU, also written for The Princess and The Butcher prompt. A delightful read that tells its own story but keeps the heart of our beloved characters. A pleasure to read, would legitimately read this as its own stand alone book.

honey, you’re familiar (like my mirror years ago) by novel_concept26

40k words, timetravel AU. Another timetravel AU, but this time the whole gang is along for the ride! Not strictly a JackieShauna fic, this truly is an ensamble story, but it’s charming and adorable and Jackie does play a very important role.

kingdom for a kiss by hanjisgirlfriend

14k words, and they were Roommates! I usually most enjoy fics that are around or upwards of 20k because I feel like that gives enough time to fully flesh out a story, but this fic manages to tell an entire story, and beautifully at that, in only 14k words. Basically one of Jackie Taylor’s roommates doesn’t like her, and over the course of four months she strives to change that.

i look to you and i see nothing by theyellowumbrella

67k words, roadtrip au. Before you read this you MUST (in my opinion) read the companion fic ‘blow all my friendships to sit in hell with you’, 18k words. The companion piece was my first introduction to JackieNat bestfriendism and after reading it I could never turn back. Both fics are absolutely incredible, well written, beautiful journeys.

only you can breathe me back to life by RynWill

66k words, incomplete. Zombie!Jackie AU! Another ‘came back wrong’ fic! I love love love this fic, it’s just fun. Like, it’s both Yellowjackets and a zombie fic, so it gets dark and a little gory at times, but it’s basically a rom-com. Yes it’s incomplete but it’s so worth reading.

you stay with the earth by knifecrab

176k words, incomplete. Do I even need to put this one on here? This is THE canon-divergent wilderness fic for JackieShauna fans, even one of the people managing the Yellowjackets twitter has read it. It’s basically required reading. Some lovely people did give me a heads up for some postpartum depression in the later chapters, so I’m passing that knowledge along so you know going in.

wander your own land by namelessblade

379k words, incomplete. Very similar vibes to you stay with the earth, another canon divergent fic set in the wilderness where both Jackie and wilderness baby live, but notably darker. I found the later chapters a little bit frustrating to read, but it was a result of GOOD writing, you know that feeling of ‘I know this character WOULD do this, but I WANT them to smarten up’? Yeah, that. Absolutely worth a read, also big on the JackieNat friendship agenda, which is always a bonus.

you’re just a bee charmer by tabithatwo

53k words, catfishing/texting AU. I think this was legitimately the first JackieShauna fic I ever read? That was a while ago so I might actually go back and read this one, but it’s lovely and funny and pretty lighthearted. Also like everything tabithatwo writes it’s just generally incredible. Essentially Jackie and Jeff finally break up (for real this time) and to prevent their rollercoaster of a on-again off-again relationship from continuing Shauna decides Jackie just needs to know she has options. It was just supposed to be a quick supportive comment from a stranger to boost her self-esteem, really! But it certainly doesn’t stay that way. Definitely a go-to for a feel-good read.

talk, valentina! by shauna_apologist

78k words, no crash AU. Another one I read early on! Shauna starts getting bullied and rumours start to spread about her possibly not being straight, and Jackie takes it upon herself to become a better ally for her bff and her team. She gets a little more than she bargained for. Basically Jackie learns about comp-het and some things start to click into place. For a fic that does discuss bullying and comp-het this is a mostly fun, lighthearted read!

a secret third thing by jackiesear (Ash46luvr)

22k words, kid fic! Wilderness baby survives and upon returning to civilization Shauna starts to build a life for her and little Jack, and Aunt Jackie plans on being there every step of the way. Family dynamics can be confusing, but perhaps Jack actually sees something they don’t when Aunt Jackie starts to become ‘Mama’. Absolutely adorable fic, everything you could want out of a kid fic. Cozy from start to finish.

fixer upper by woodenpicador

27k words, rescued after three days/post college AU. Another one I read and loved early on. Jackie returns to Wiskayok after college to purchase a house with her boyfriend, but she soon realizes the house might need a little more work than she first thought. Luckily Nat knows a guy. (Spoilers, that guy is Shauna Shipman. But Jackie really does need to get this work done, and Shauna needs a place to stay, so they can be adults about it for a while, right?) Small town AU vibes, which I suppose is literally what it is.

once you stop, stop looking (it’ll hit you in the face) by novel_concept26

21k words, camping AU! This story is basically ‘what if instead of forced team bonding through trauma in the Canadian wilderness, the team just goes camping?’ and it is delightful. Not strictly JackieShauna but they’re definitely part of it, this is another true ensamble story. I basically smiled reading through the whole thing.

it’s like you’re made of angel dust by theyellowumbrella

34k words, college/sorority AU. Shauna is an aspiring journalism student who is looking for her ticket out and up to Brown where she belongs. Stuck at college for the time being she decides an exposé on Greek life is bound to be that ticket, so she works to infiltrate a sorority to get her scoop, but meets glowingly beautiful, kind, and surprisingly genuine Jackie Taylor in the process. A well written, fun, and mostly light read with some angst and inner ethical turmoil for spice.

WHEW this is a long post and took me a while to write, but I hope it’s worth it! It was genuinely fun to make! All fics are on AO3, I didn’t do links bc my bookmarks are on my laptop and I’m typing this up on my phone, sorry!

Edited to add links! So many of these authors also have other incredible works as well, if you enjoy one of the fics I highly encourage you to check out the author for their other works!

[entomjinx]

ONE PIECE CHAPTER 1113 SPOILERS!!!

It's tagged, it's in bold, if you didn't see it that's on you, but I'm sorry. (I'm also a little sick so sorry for how this starts to turn a little insane at the end.)

The reveal makes perfect sense. I've seen a few people struggle to figure out where it came from, so I'm gonna explain why it makes perfect sense and then pop off with some silly theory.

The first hint at the fact that the One Piece world is sinking exists all the way back in Long Ring Long Island.

That seems like an odd place to start, but it's the first time we're shown how drastic the tides of the ocean in the One Piece world can change. It's enough to separate entire parts of an island, causing it to appear as separate islands, once every year.

This implies that the tides change drastically over the course of much longer periods than it does in the real world.

After that, we get to Water Seven and discover that it's sinking, and that the Aqua Laguna is getting worse every year. We also know that it's caused by the water receding at Long Ring Long island. We're also outright told that they want to make the city float to stop the sinking problem.

We also, much later, see just how high Wano is in altitude.

Knowing that the Redline is so tall that it cannot be passed by any ship, cannot be broken through, and that Mariejois is sat right on top of it only adds to why it makes sense.

The world isn't "sinking," those some islands technically are(Water Seven, modeled after Venice), the tides are going to rise exponentially, and fast.

The force of the water would instantly drown most people, and those who survived would be those who could get to higher altitude islands, the sky islands, Fishman Island, or the Redline.

And because I know someone will try to point this out: land bound plant life can temporarily survive underwater, so Ohara's 5000 year old library tree would be fine for a a bit while submerged. There's lots of places with high tides who's plant life is just fine. (This also could explain why they'd be so willing to throw the books into the water. Not only was it to save them from the fire, but many of them had likely been submerged for long periods of time before. They knew the books would be find in the end because they had record of it. And well, it's mentioned in the chapter that Vegapunk means to finish what Ohara started.)

This would also explain how thorough the government was able to be with wiping out information from the void century. If only a few places can survive, then few things that tell the truth will survive, and even fewer people.

Do I think I'm 100% correct about any of this? Or course not, it's Oda. It's One Piece. Things are pretty much never predicted with 100% accuracy. But that's my thoughts on why it makes sense. Now we get into theory:

I have several points to make, so I'm going to write out the shortest ones first.

-This would, completely unironically, explain some of the centuries long racism campaign against fishman. They have no reason to fear the high tides. They will survive no matter what happens on the surface, and that scares the humans who cannot.

-I think that the extreme tide is a part of why the bridge is being built in Tequila Wolf. I believe the bridges purposes is to connect all the highest points of the world so there's no need for ships to carry them. This way, the Celestial Dragons will still have access to more slaves, produce, and anything they can't get within Mariejois on their own during the time period when everyone drowns.

-and now we get to the big one:

I think that the reason the 20 kings and their people destroyed the ancient kingdom is because the ancient kingdom had a way to survive the high tide while keeping the maximum number of people safe in the process, and while being able to save many more people. They refused to ask for help, and were instead afraid of the power the ancient kingdom held, so they sought to destroy it.

I think that the ancient "weapons" were instead a means of survival, and the reason they were hidden is because the 20 kings would have used them as weapons instead. We don't know much about the ancient kingdom, so much of this is speculation.

I think Pluton was a large enough ship that it could carry the entire kingdom. We've already seen some massive ships in One Piece, and Iceburg intends to turn the entirety of Water Seven into a ship, so the idea of an island sized ship isn't all that odd.

If you continue to think about it, why did none of the Beast Pirates manage to find Pluton while searching for the poneglyph in Wano? I have two theories for this based on the fact that we're told Wano would have to open it's borders in order to get Pluton. If the walls would need to be torn down, then we can continue to assume that Pluton is massive.

Theory one is that Pluton is is hidden within the mountain itself, and that the mountain was man-made to hide the ship. Not only would the walls need to come down, but the mountain itself would have to be destroyed. They would also need a way to survive the high tide without it, so creating a mountain that is high enough in altitude to keep them safe would have been a necessity. I think this is the more believable of the two theories.

Theory Two is that Pluton is Wano. The entire island is the ship, and many of Wano's people descended from the people of the ancient kingdom or those they rescued. This one is much less likely, but it's still a possibility in my mind.

We know that Poseidon was the former mermaid princess, and that the current one is Shirahoshi. She can control the sea kings. Why would this be important? Because if everywhere floods, then the sea kings, who are already very large creatures, suddenly have an influx of room to move, food to eat, and places to lay eggs. It would cause a population spike. *However,* that would cause an ecological disaster within the food chain. The sudden influx of sea kings would be desperate for any food they can get their hands on, and many would likely die of starvation. This means they need some way to repel them from the large ship.

We don't know anything about Uranus yet, so I've nothing for you.

Another thing we know about the ancient kingdom is that they seemed to be friendly with everyone, or at least it's implied via how many friends Joy Boy made.

Fishman: Along with the bonus of having Poseidon, the fishman also have access to the tree resin from Sabaody. Should the ship(Puton) or the ancient kingdom ever need to submerge in order to keep people safe or to have a temporary air bubble, They'd be safe.

Lunarians: The people who originally lived on top of the redline. Sinee the redline is high enough to not sink, it would have made sense for them to be trade partners.

Skypians and Shandians: Another race with wings. if the tides really got too high, then they could join them in the sky sea for a time. They could also trade with them.

Minks: Zunesha was a friend of Joyboy's. We don't know much else about that situation, but it's likely that Zunesha is plenty tall enough to keep the minks from drowning, and they could have traded often as well. Maybe Zunesha was even able to do something similar to the giants.

The Giants: This feels like the most important one to me, and not just because of recent chapters. Obviously the giants think very highly of Nika/Joyboy, but it's also very likely that Elbaf is tall enough to survive the high tide, and if not, the the giants themselves are. If you look at what's known about current giants, some of them are tall enough to walk along the sea floor, and the ancient giants were so large that it's said they pulled and moved continents.

Why is that bit important? Because a ship the size of an entire island would likely need a lot more than sails buoyancy to move quickly. The ancient kingdom was pulled by the giants. They moved to different areas to rescue people and to trade so that life continued while the tide was at it's highest point.

Another random thing that supports this is the giant's vehement hatred towards Charlotte Linlin. She has Totto Land, which is supposed to be a place where all races live in harmony, but it would be a mockery of what the ancient kingdom was like, and for giants, who live about 300 years, that's only a few generations back. They would still have stories about the ancient kingdom and remember the truth.

Again, I don't think anything I predict will ever be 100% accurate, but I hope you enjoyed my rambling nonetheless.

[earthmixsclowderofcats]

Just genuinely asking, do you actually believe that ZeeNuNew is dating? (I believe in them)

Oh, this never ending debate.

When I first got into BL these two confused and confounded me for months. It always seemed like people were either very strict and defensive truthers or pessimistic deniers.

Honestly, I went back and forth several times on them, and I think what I have come to conclude is that they're both and neither and whatever the hell they want.

Because due to the parasocial aspects of the Thai bl industry these men (Thai bl men in general) play a version of themselves in public, the same way most people do. Only their public persona is what makes them marketable. It's part of their brand.

That doesn't mean there isn't truth to it.

Fanservice and genuine affection do not exist in vacuums separate from one another. Real life relationships are way more fluid and complicated than black and white.

There are things they do that seem very performative, but I have to wonder if maybe that's just part of their personality and relationship in general. But obviously it is also, at least partly, for the fans. As it is their brand. But again, that's something that doesn't exist in a vacuum.

In a classic, western sense they haven't officially actually come out but rather were like "you can think whatever you want."

(I think this might have changed recently with the language they've been using but I'm not 100% sure due to fan translations being subjective. But like, I'm pretty sure they've said recently in an interview they basically date at work.)

At some point (especially in the past few weeks)I've legitimately just started feeling like a homophobic crone for thinking it was ALL for fan service. Like, those two clearly are very important to each other. They clearly love each other in some way.

It's so interesting because like, in a way these shipped pairs are living their own fake dating au's. And I fully believe there are some people who just committed to the bit to the degree that it no longer became a bit, and I'm pretty sure that's zeenunew.

You can see their relationship change over the years. I don't doubt there was fan service in the cutie pie era. I also don't doubt that those big sappy displays of affection are sincere.

So i used to put them in the category of "shrodinger's ships." They were both together and not until proven otherwise.

But recently I've shifted them into the category of "committed to the bit too hard and now it is no longer a bit."

Because I think it's both fan service and legit, and like, that's just how they roll. If it is an entirely false charade they've been on for years then consider me bamboozled and in awe of their hustle, but in this economy we take all the serotonin we can get.

Also, like, regardless of any outside perspective of their relationship, their personal relationship is going to be what it is or isn't either way. What are we gonna do about it by arguing over semantics and technicalities? What would they get? Nothing. We have literally no stake in this and no influence.

[lillaydee]

Tingled Part 17

Francisco 'Catfish' Morales / Reader

Joel Miller (No Outbreak) / Reader

Starting fresh in the big city, you were still questioning your worth after the way you were treated by your ex and his daughter, desperately trying to leave thoughts of them behind. But something about the new man you ran into made that almost impossible.

WARNINGS: Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel is a Fucking Idiot, Sweet Francisco "Catfish" Morales, Soft Francisco "Catfish" Morales, Hurt Francisco "Catfish" Morales, Francisco "Catfish" Morales Has PTSD, Fluff and Angst, Past Drug Addiction, Healing, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us)

SERIES MASTERLIST

Part 16

Well, technically, you didn’t lie. You did go home Saturday.

Okay, it was to get more clothes, but the point was, you did go back home. Full stop.

I mean, you couldn’t repeat the same five sets of clothes two weeks in a row, right? You had to get another set. Duh!

It’s not that you didn’t want to go home. You did, of course you did.

But Frankie’s place was so much nearer to work. You get to sleep an extra hour and still have time for a leisurely breakfast before going to work. And you didn’t have to press up against strangers on the train. Or rush in the mornings.

Also, Frankie’s place had Frankie. Your place didn’t.

He woke you up with his face between your legs that Monday morning. Made you breakfast (okay, it was Eggos, but it’s the thought that counted, okay?) and walked you to the café to get you your coffee before walking you to work. He picked you up later that evening, and you walked into his kitchen to the newer model of your espresso machine on the counter, your favourite beans and milk in his fridge. He sheepishly told you that it was a bribe so you could stay longer in the mornings.

Wednesday came and his furniture was finally delivered. You and the girls spent that night ‘helping’ him put them together by having a few drinks in the kitchen, while the men did the actual work. You spent Thursday night helping him unpack his duffels – finally extracted from the spare room, strewn on the floor among several boxes of old books, old family pictures and vinyl, still secured in their boxes ever since he moved in. You placed your suitcase next to the chest drawer, but he opened them, and unpacked the contents into the other closet and chest drawer. The set that was left vacated after his clothes had been unpacked. The one on the opposite side of his, the one mirroring his side. He placed the book you brought and lotion on the nightstand on your side of the bed. You had a side in his room. Your toothbrush sat beside his in its holder, your facial stuff on the counter, your shampoo and bodywash next to his in the shower. The left stool under the countertop, the second chair on his dining table, the left side of the sofa were yours too. You had a side everywhere at his place.

After he was done placing your panties in the drawer separator compartment thing, he went to the spare room and came back out with a Ziploc bag, your missing underwear in it, casually unzipping it, and tossing the material in the laundry basket.

“I guess I don’t need these anymore,” he said unashamedly, as you stared at him with your hands on your mouth. “What? I thought you were going home that Saturday, so I preserved it, just in case I needed… inspiration for manual relief before you came back. But you stayed, so…”

You smacked him on his chest, calling him a pervert, hating the fact that you couldn’t get the amused smile out of your face as you did. He smirked at you, coming in for a hug, but you were determined to be mad at him for doing such a debauched, depraved, unthinkable perversion, you tried to worm your way out, only to surrender the moment he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

On Friday, as you laid in bed with him, cursing the fact that the weekdays had gone by so fast, he pointed at the closets and told you he could just put up a wall there so you could have a walk-in closet. He knew you liked them. You looked at him and saw the sad puppy-dog look he had on his face, upset that you had to go home the next day. Another bribe, to make you stay longer.

“You want to come home with me and spend the weekend at my place?”

“Yes please,” he said, before kissing you breathless.

**********

That weekend, you and Frankie took your mother and Henry out for brunch. He had stayed over the whole week, as predicted. He stayed over the weekend too. Frankie somehow managed to coax you into bringing an empty suitcase home, leave your clothes here, please? Then you’d always have something to change into. And if, God forbid, someone accidentally threw a cup of coffee at you, you could just run over, shower and change. Wasn’t that a brilliant idea? You had planned to sleep over at his place Sunday, since you had an early morning meeting on Monday. Good thing you had clothes at his place, wasn’t it? Maybe take a few more clothes with you when you go, he had suggested, for variety? You had just worn those clothes you left behind this past week, surely you should bring something new?

Come Sunday, Frankie hauled the formerly empty suitcase you had brought home into his truck, freshly filled with more clothes. He, in turn, brought an empty backpack home, leaving the freshly laundered T-shirt and flannel he had worn the day before, along with a pair of sleep pants and boxers in your closet. The spare toothbrush you had given him sat in a glass container with yours on your bathroom counter, his travel sized toiletries in the bathroom drawer.  

That Sunday night, as you were drifting off to sleep in his arms, you were somehow conscious enough to properly hear the Spanish phrases he had whispered to you, the ones he only said to you every single night since you first spent the night when he thought you had fallen asleep.

Buenos noches mi amor. Te amo mucho.

You only spoke bad high-school Spanish. But even you understood that. You turned, startling him, a slight panicked look in his eyes that you heard him, and told him you loved him too.

You were almost an hour late for work the next day despite being a fifteen walking minutes away from work, and you didn’t even care. You made up for it by staying back an hour, Frankie keeping you company, accepting the part he played in the whole matter. Somehow, it became really important for you to stay the week as well.

By Friday, he had an extra set of keys and security fob to the building made for you.

This thing with the empty suitcase went on for weeks. Go home Saturday with an empty suitcase, come back to the city Sunday with a full one. Until the day came that you realized all that was left in your closet was a couple of T-shirts and a pair of jeans, some PJs, a few changes of underwear and a travel version of your toiletries, as well as the same of Frankie’s.

But if your mother asked, you were still living at home, just staying at Frankie’s on weekdays. You hadn’t moved in with him or anything. That was just silly. You would never move in with someone so soon. After Joel, you needed to be careful, you’d like to think you had learnt your lesson after all.

Frankie started furnishing his place over those few weeks. The guys helped him put up a wall for your-er-his walk-in closet. You helped him pick out his furniture, made sure his kitchen was equipped for cooking his favourite dishes. He even turned his now cleared and unpacked spare bedroom into an office for you to work from, or if you had to have zoom meetings with people from different time zones, a daybed conveniently placed next to the desk he got for the office, so that he could keep you company when you had to work late.

The men took turns hosting each other, spending as much time as they could outside of work together. In the few weeks you stayed there, you noticed that the men never all worked for the same job at once. At least one of them would normally stay behind, and since Frankie was so fresh out of getting his year chip, it was usually him. He would make sure the ladies were alright, constantly checking in on them when their men were off working, making sure their clients were safe and secure. The other three did the same when Frankie was on duty.

You saw the dynamics the four men and the ladies had with each other. When Santi and Yovanna moved in, everyone lent a hand, and now, yourself included. Needed something built? Lifted? Cleaned? Just order the pizza and beer, we’ll be there. There was a closeness, a willingness to just help each other out that went without saying with these guys. They dropped everything to help each other. No questions asked. And even before you and Frankie were a couple, when you were injured, they didn’t hesitate. They just helped. They were there.

And the ladies, well, let’s just say you had sisters now. They were so excited for you and Frankie, adding you to the group chat as soon as no one heard from the two of you all weekend after that first date. When you went back to work the Monday after, they started called you Mrs Fish, which finally prompted you to ask them what that was all about. Apparently, it’s short for Catfish. But they didn’t know why. The guys never gave them a straight answer, said it was something about him being able to hold his breath for a long time underwater? Or cats? Maybe his scruff? They didn’t know. And frankly, you didn’t care.

You didn’t. Really.

At about the one-month mark of dating you finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. You asked him. Why Catfish?

Well, he said, a smirk on his face, I like cats, and I can hold my breath a long time. You didn’t buy it. This was a name his army brothers gave him. It’s a callsign. They referred to each other with these names, Catfish, Ironhead, Pope, Redfly, and well… Benny. It can’t possibly be because of his love of cats or the ability to hold his breath.

He’ll show you, he said. Okay, you sat up on the bed, excited to see the origin of this name. He got up, faced you on the bed, bent down, and pulled your legs over the edge, ripping your sleep shorts off.

Wait, what are you…

Oh. Oh…

Okay, okay, good name… good name… uhuh, uhuh, just like that… oh my God such a good… fuck, right there… yes… yes… yes… oh, what a great name.

**********

Two months into dating, your mother asked if you could have lunch with her. Just the two of you. Oh, shit, you thought. This was it. You were going to get chewed on for the fact that you hadn’t exactly lived at home in two months. She’s going to tell you that you were moving too fast.

Frankie drove you over, picked up your mother and dropped the two of you at an Italian place. She was very quiet, even Frankie noticed. He had gone to Anna’s, trying hard to get information from her, but that woman was as silent as a grave when it came to your mother.

After ordering, you decided the tension was too palpable. She was too quiet. For the first time in a long time, since you decided to cut the flowers off her favourite dress for your art homework, you were terrified of mommy. Shit, was mid-30s too old to be beaten with a broomstick? It was, right? She wouldn’t, right?

“Look, mom, I know I haven’t been…”

“Henry and I are getting married.”

Your mouth turned into an O, your eyes wide, your expression frozen.

It turned out, the reason your mother hadn’t noticed you had practically moved out was that Henry had practically moved in. While you and Frankie were busy smuggling your clothes out, Henry was busy smuggling his in.

You were frozen for quite a while.

“Sweetie, I know what you’re thinking. Are we moving too fast? Maybe. But we are not getting any younger, and we have been alone for so long. He’s really good to me, sweetie, and he makes me so happy. Before him, I never thought I would ever feel this way about anyone. I gave up on love when your dad left, sweetie. I didn’t trust anyone. Busied myself with work, you, Sarah, the garden, I just didn’t want to risk it. But with Henry… it just felt right. I feel like I’ve known him forever. We just clicked. We gel. We just got along as if we’ve been together forever. It feels like… like… like…”

“You were made for each other.”

Both of you had tears in your eyes, happy tears. She nodded.

“You and Frankie?”

You nodded. You got up and sat next to her, hugging her with all your might.

Your mother had met her love and was getting married.

And at warp speed, it turned out. In two weeks, Henry’s children were coming to town for a visit. They wanted to do it then. Might as well. You didn’t know what to say, but you knew you were not against it. Henry had proven to be a great guy, and you had never seen your mother smile so much.

**********

And just like that, two weeks later, you were walking your mother down the makeshift isle in the garden behind Henry’s restaurant, where her future husband was waiting, eyes wet from seeing his new bride looking so beautiful in a simple cream-coloured knee length satin and lace dress, his children by his side. Anna officiated the union. As you stood next to your mother holding her simple bouquet of flowers, you couldn’t stop crying. She deserved this. She devoted her life to her husband, only for him to dump her for a younger model. She took job upon job to make sure you were fed, cleaned, educated and clothed. Her social life consisted of you, work, and the block parties at your old neighbourhood. She was always there for you, but never hovered. She was the calm presence in your life that you knew would do anything to make you happy. All these years, you had dreamt of the day for her to be this happy to come, and now, it’s here. The joy you felt in your heart for her was indescribable. She looked so calm, so at peace, so happy, your heart warmed up at the sight of it all.

When the time came for the groom to kiss his new bride, you were practically weeping, angrily wiping the tears away to not steal attention from the bride. A warm hand wrapped around your waist, a handkerchief gently wiped the tears off your face, and a pair of very familiar lips grazed your temple with a loving kiss.

You were so thankful for Frankie. He had been extremely helpful during the wedding preparations, taking your mother dress shopping, patiently waiting as you, the girls and Anna made him stand in as the groom for ‘full effect’ and showed him dress after dress for his ‘manpinion’. He even went to the jewellers with her to get her old wedding band turned into something else, while picking up new ones for her and Henry.

As you danced with your boyfriend of a little over two months, you felt the life you and your mother led back in the old town fade away. You were here, in his arms, him looking all dapper in his suit. You loved each other, you had each other, and that was all that mattered. You had been absent from yourself in your past life, even more so after Joel did what he did. You went through life not really feeling, numbed to everything that was going on around you, around everything that was done to you, your heart feeling so empty and cold. But ever since you met Frankie, you started feeling something slowly spreading through your body. Like the first pulse of sensation after you had sat on a part of your body for too long. A tingling, of sorts.

You were not numb anymore.

And now, that initial small tingle had grown, spreading to other parts of your body, like pleasant tiny little pinpricks under your skin, giving you goosebumps, moving your blood along, slowly rewarming your heart. You were happy. In love. Loved. You couldn’t possibly imagine how you could be any happier.

**********

That was until a week later. You were at Frankie’s, well, yours too now, since Henry had taken over the lease at the house you had formerly lived in. He had gone to the lobby to get the lunch you had ordered, and the delivery was a bit late. You put his freshly laundered clothes away and sat on the bed to fold the tinier pieces of clothing. When it came to his socks, you realized that you had never folded them before – you sort of roll them into each other when it came to your own. But Frankie was a particular and meticulous man. His army training made him so, so the last thing you wanted to do was mess up his ‘system’. You went to his chest drawer and picked a pair of socks he had already folded himself for reference. As you pulled a pair out of its ridiculously neat row, a couple more pairs got pulled out with them, and a box hidden underneath caught your eyes.  

A robin blue ring box.

Your mind was racing. As was your heart. You went back to that time two weeks ago when your mother asked if you wanted her old wedding ring for yourself – she didn’t know what to do with it. You had tried it on then, but it was a bit tight on your right hand. It fit your left ring finger perfectly, but what would be the point of you keeping it? You were not going to wear the wedding ring your runaway dad gave to your mother. So you suggested she had it melted and made into something else.

She went to the jewellery store the next day. With Frankie. And came back with a matching pair of wedding bands for her and Henry. Rings that came in robin blue boxes.

You couldn’t move. You just stood there, the three pairs of socks still in your hand. You didn’t know what to do. You were afraid to touch it. You couldn’t just put the socks back in and pretend you didn’t see it. It was right there, just staring at you in its robin blue gloriousness.

A pair of very familiar hands wrapped around your body, a pair of whiskered lips kissing your neck.

“You found my secret.”

“Frankie, baby? What…”

He took the box out of the drawer, guiding you by the waist to sit on the bed with him, placing the laundry basket on the floor, pushing the unfolded boxers and socks away from you, taking your hands and placing the box in them.

“I had planned to do this at a more romantic, really cheesy setting, actually. Next week, on your birthday, to be exact. I bought this two weeks ago, and two weeks of walking around with this hidden in my sock drawer turned out to be the most difficult mission of my life. So, I hope you don’t mind that I do this here in our bedroom instead, with my boxers and socks at our feet, because if I’m being honest, not knowing your answer is killing me.”

You were still not speaking. You heart was hammering in your ribcage, begging to be let out. His beautiful face was obscured by tears that had already started falling onto your cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumbs, keeping your face in his hands.

“Emma, baby, mi amor, I was intrigued by you the first time I ever met you, you know, that time when you screamed at me and called me Joel?” he smiled when you huffed a small laugh, his own eyes getting wetter. “The second time I met you, despite having coffee all over me, I was so happy. Cause I had been going to that café every day hoping to see you. By the time we had dinner at that café? I was already crushing hard on you. And by the time I woke up the next morning? I knew I was in love with you. I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life, and now that I found you, I don’t want to let go. I’m so in love with you, I don’t want to go back to my life before you. It felt like I wasn’t really living until I met you. Baby, maybe I’m moving at warp speed here, but I know. I know you are it for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Heal with you. Grow with you. Have babies with you. Grow old with you.”

Your tears were full on flooding your face by now. His were not cooperating either.

“I want all of that, I want everything with you. But only if you want them with me, too. Baby, if you think this is too soon, I’ll wait and try again later. If you don’t want marriage at all, ever, we’ll resize it and it can be your birthday present, just wear this ring on your other fingers and we’ll carry on as we have been. I just want to be with you. I will take whatever you give me. But baby, if you are willing, if you want me, will you please, please, please, do me the honour of marrying me?”

You were trying. Really, you were trying to answer. But there was a huge lump of emotion in your throat, obstructing your vocal cords. You nodded. Enthusiastically so. A teary, elated smile on your face.

He kissed you, snot and all. He wiped your face with his shirt, placing his forehead on yours.

“Is that a yes, baby?”

You swallowed hard, trying to stop crying long enough to speak. He waited patiently, his forehead still on yours, as you finally managed to squeak out an answer.

“Yes.”

This time, when he kissed you, your whole body tingled.

Epilogue

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Ok go with me here - @fruityfirehose and I have been exploring a few things while chatting, and one of the things we’ve been contemplating is related to the lightening strike and Bucks coma dream and how it relates to bi Buck and the Tommy of it all.

Something we discussed is the idea that Daniel in the coma is actually Evan and that Buck essentially has multiple personalities (metaphorically speaking - I’m not implying that Buck has spd or anything).

I know it sounds a bit of a leap and illogical, but it does make sense I promise! It’s part of why my theory that Tommy is an alt version of Buck and why Tommy insists on calling him Evan is so interesting as a concept.

It’s kind of hard to explain but hopefully I make sense!

Buck has been going through his life ‘struggling’ with his identity - with fitting in in the world he existed in in any given moment. This has been because two versions of him existed inside him as essentially one person - he is both Evan and Buck (think conjoined twins type situation but with personality instead of the physical body) and they struggle with each other for dominance.

Evan is obviously tied to the Daniel (and his ghost) of it all, and that side of Buck has been dominant for most of his life, but as Buck put distance between himself and his parents and his childhood home, the ties to Daniel weakened until the Buck part of Buck was able to become dominant - with moments of Evan regaining control during this time (in the same way that Buck probably surfaced occasionally during his childhood - most likely with Maddie). The lightening strike is the moment when Evan and Buck separate - the lightening strike severs the thing that has been tying them together - Daniel (hence the prevalence of Daniel in Bucks coma dream!)

So now they are no longer conjoined and in a split personality type of way they exist as two separate people. But only one can survive and move on - where we’re at now is approaching the moment Buck has to choose who he will become - does he regress and become Evan - letting go of Buck. Or does he let go of Evan and become Buck.

Tommy coming into the picture is a physical representation of this choice. Its why Tommys past is so important as a hurdle for Buck - and why the fact Tommy has grown a bit but not that much is important. It’s why Tommy calls Buck Evan - it is Evan trying to assert control - the control he had when Evan and Buck were connected.

It’s about making the choice of who he becomes - which path he follows and once he makes his choice he can embrace who he is fully rather than by the half measures he has been doing up to now - because he will no longer be at war within himself!

It also makes the not realising he’s bi integral to it all as well, making it even more interesting - because it’s Buck who is bi - not Evan (I know technically Evan is too but just go with me and the metaphor here) - Evan represents repression - heteronormativity and trying so hard to conform - to become whatever is needed of him in the moment. Which is what Tommy represents as well and why he is Evan - that is what he did - repressed himself and became what he needed to be to survive (at the 118 pre Bobby and I guess through his childhood as well).

The thing is, Tommy won’t change or grow further - he allowed himself to be queer - which benefits him but no one else (I.e his queerness is freeing for him - he gains from it, but confronting and dealing with the racism and sexism - making reparations and learning - doesn’t have any direct benefit to him so those parts haven’t grown or changed - he is still those things. - the fact Buck hasn’t been shown to be any of those things is irrelevant - they are representations of a concept - the who Buck could’ve become had he not ended up at the 118).

But buck can and will change and grow - we’ve seen it through the past 7 seasons, and it’s why he’ll ultimately break up with Tommy, because Tommy and Evan are compatible but Tommy and Buck are incompatible. Buck will choose to be Buck and not Evan and so they can never work, because that tug of war between Buck and Evan cannot continue. One has to win in the end, and as Evan is static/ weakening, while Buck keeps growing and being nurtured by the firefam and Eddie and Chris, Buck is the one who will win out in the end.

[moodymisty]

Hello 🌹I hope you are doing well in life. I'm so glad you're accepting requests again. In a way, I've been coming to tumblr for your blog lately✨ Sanguinius/aristocratic reader from Terra. A performance or concert on the next conquered planet. It was a long campaign, it took several primarchs to subjugate the world. And now the event is going on (they are in a separate box), the reader becomes bored and she casually invites Sanguinius to do something more interesting (🤭❤️‍🔥). He says that his brothers or sons may hear. And the reader objects that they are probably busy with something else and will not pay attention. As a result, someone heard it and was very surprised that the reader was capable of such a thing. And she calmly reacts something like “you underestimate my power”))) Something like this, you can change the conditions in any direction❤

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: So sorry for this taking so long first of all! This one got stuck at the bottom of my ask box and I've finally gotten to it. I hope you enjoy and that it's worth the wait!

Relationships: Sanguinius/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some semi-public handsiness, The implication of Sanguinius drinking your blood and enjoying it

Word Count: 1046

"If I'd known this would end up so boring, I would've considered faking being sick."

Sanguinus with an ever so slight turn of his head, looks down at you from the corner of his eye and smiles.

"Then I would've had to rely on Corvus to help me negotiate. Would you not spare me such a fate?"

You jokingly reply that perhaps you would, though it's not as if he often needs it.

Sanguinius; The Great Angel, the son of the Emperor, but foremost a mutant. It hadn't been easy, making so many overlook such a glaring, unmissable detail. Even with as resplendent as he is, it is impossible to ignore the great white wings that cue into his technically mutated being.

Residents of the current Imperium have, but many planets that the Blood Angels come across have less than stellar reactions to Sanguinius on first impression.

Impressions after however, tend to fair far better.

Leaning back into the plush seat you look away from whatever display the planet is putting on- the closest word you can use for it is play- and your head tilts to rest on Sanguinius' bicep. He's no longer dawning his armor, though his sword rests right beside him, and instead is dressed up in ornate woven clothing from Baal.

In red, of course. Part of you wonders if he simply prefers to match his legion's title, or if he enjoys being a cliche.

You attempt to hold back a sigh, and instead let out a yawn and roll your eyes. If you're bored, you can't imagine how his men are feeling, having been on the battlefield not two days ago and are now here chomping at the bit.

"Why can't we return to your quarters on the Red Tear already?"

Sanguinus looks down at you as you lean against him. His smile isn't as wide as it was before, still sitting upright.

"You're lucky my brothers aren't within earshot to misconstrue your words, my love."

Though they are here. You can't find Corvus, but you do see Guilliman in his distinctive blue across the theater; Though his head is hung oddly low.

You elect not to point out to Sanguinius that he's fallen asleep.

"And how do you know that they would be misconstruing it?" You say instead, looking up towards him and failing to completely hold in a devious smirk.

Sanguinus, instead of taking the demure but seductive bait you’ve laid out for him, scolds you instead.

"You should clean that mouth of yours then, with my sons so close."

As if Sanguinius has never before said something a bit lewd. You roll your eyes and look up at him with the sweetest, softest face you can muster, head tilted to one side.

“I highly doubt they are be able to hear us in a room this soundproofed.”

You know that despite your high collared clothes that there's a mark- one of many- he's left on your neck that's still fading, and it's implication might be just the thing you need to bring him closer to you.

When your lips touch finished speaking you watch the way his eyes leave your own for a moment, darting downward.

While you know that in almost every aspect he can overpower you, outsmart you, at the end of the day he is still distinctly human.

"I think that mind of yours will be one of the few things I will never truly understand."

Sanguinus' massive size difference often times makes the simplest of things so difficult, as he presses a hand into the arm of your chair farthest away in order to lean down closer to you.

His eyes are soft, ever so slightly hooded, as his hair tickles your cheek. You had little interest in the spectacle put on for your beloved to begin with, but now that you have his complete attention it’s faded to little more than background noise.

His lips press against yours, warm- trapping your upper lip between his own. You can't help but softly moan into his mouth as you finally get what you wanted, feeling his other hand lay against your thigh.

It dances along your leg, large and covering so much of your thigh; Now it sits tantalizingly close to the apex. Your legs spread slightly to give him room that you desperately hope he'll make use of, not that you've convinced him. Your body is hot, lower stomach tight.

When he pulls away he doesn't leave for long, lips drifting across your cheek before pressing against the pulse point just below the corner of your jaw.

He can feel the way your blood pulses underneath your skin, against his lips, and his desire grows. He likes to torture himself with it, perhaps. With the sound of your heartbeat, and the though of a taste.

Sanguinus has nigh unbeatable restraint when it comes to the curse put upon him and his sons, but it doesn’t mean you haven’t convinced him to give in once or twice.

His lips brush along your neck and your hands weave into his hair, breaths becoming quicker. Sanguinus, once against the idea now presses against you harder, pushing you into the seat, his hesitance forgotten or simply abandoned.

Neither of you hear the sound of the door to the private stall opening until it is almost too late, and two of his sons spot their primarch quickly pulling away from you and leaning back upright. He looks at them, turned in his seat. Sanguinus looks as picturesque as usual apart from a slightly jostling of his hair, but you look out of breath, clothes wrinkled.

The slightly larger of the two Astartes clears his throat.

"Lord Sanguinus," The Blood Angel nearly stumbles over his words in a rare fit of discomfort.

"We should depart now. Corvus wishes to speak to you aboard the Red Tear."

The angel nods to his sons and rises, before offering you one massive hand. You gently take it, and he looks down at you and shakes his head. You know exactly what he’s thinking and you can’t help feel a bit prideful about it, even more so when he leans down just slightly to whisper to you.

"You will be my end, you know."