#a proper damn scientist with a doctorate

[green-mountain-goose]

-

[tokoyamisstuff]

Fragments Pt. 1/3

Homelander / GN! Reader

Ch. 1: Fallen Angel

Summary: After a new drug rendered Homelander both powerless and amnesic, he gets saved by someone blissfully unaware of who he is.

Shoutout to @blindmagdalena who did the impossible: Making me simp for this guy. Your writing is simply impeccable! 💌

Warnings: Injury, blood, lots of exposition, not proofread

Notes: Hurt/comfort, OOC, pre-canon, Scientist! Reader, idc about logic gaps (I will cry if you point them out to me)

Four days already, and he still hasn't woken up.

Winter in the Canadian Arctic was rough, with the polar night bringing permanent darkness, as well as severe snowstorms that could last up to a week.

Luckily enough your old radio communication system was still functioning, so you were at least able to request a few necessities in advance: Food and water for another person, a doctor of course...

...and clothes for the guy you had to cut out of this ridiculous costume to patch him up properly.

Leaning back in your chair, you take some deep breaths, unable to concentrate on your work. Your glance unwillingly wanders back to the man lying on your bed, still unconscious.

Who knows how long the weather will cut you off from help arriving? You just hope he will make it until then.

Maybe it's for the better, though - since whoever had done this to him could still be out there wanting to finish the job, too.

It bordered on a miracle that he landed so close to your research station, when you were outside to notice at that. And the storm followed only shortly after you managed to pull him inside.

That man really had more luck than anything, even while having been messed up like this.

You watch him until you're sure he's still breathing and not in any discomfort, once again catching yourself admiring his handsome features.

If you didn't know any better, you'd say he was a literal fallen angel that crashed from the goddamn sky, right into your little front yard.

Damn it, the loneliness that came with this job made even your thoughts pathetic...

Well, to your defense, you've been raised pretty isolated your whole life, with parents being a doctor and a scientist that were devoted to spend their work at the most remote areas of the world.

It surely was a unique childhood with lots of traveling, and you were mostly spared the soulless corporate-controlled bullshit that was modern society. To add to that, your parents were never fond of using electronics for more than practical reasons. Not that there was internet connection where you lived either way.

All in all, while you obviously know about supes in general and might even have heard about Homelander the brief time you spent in civilization, the last time you've actually seen his face on a magazine or some sort was decades ago - and you didn't care enough to remember.

So it was no wonder that you were completely oblivious to who exactly was lying in your bed this whole time.

Sighing, you close your laptop with a dramatic gesture before making your way to the kitchen unit. You pour yourself a coffee to fill your rumbling stomach, having rationed the food in favor of your new involuntary roommate.

Having followed the footsteps of your parents - yet without proper funding - you led this mission all by yourself. At first it was bearable, since an elder native couple came to visit and assist you from time to time.

But your work demanded you to stay secluded from human intervention, deep in the mountains with the next tiny village being half a day march away. And now that winter made traveling scarce due to the dangers, the idea of some company certainly wasn't so bad.

You almost felt bad for being excited about him being here - whatever had happened to make him end up here was exactly the oppsite of great, after all.

Even though the emergency power aggregate was whirring loudly, the sound of strained groans reaches your ear - not the first time those past few days. So you immediately rush over to the man's side, pouring him a glass of water and dissolving some painkillers in it.

"It's gonna be alright" you assure him, unable to tell if he can even hear in this state. Blood is seeping through the makeshift bandages, making you realize you should probably reapply them soon. Maybe after the meds had some time to release their effect...

...however, just when the cup touched his lips, two icy blue eyes snapped open, making you wince.

"Don't touch me, fuck!" a raspy voice snapped at you, quite understandable in his situation. He pushed you away from him, causing you to stumble and fall as the glass scattered on the floor right next to you.

"Whe-where am I? And who the fuck are you?!"

"Who the fuck am I?" You felt almost offended at the accusation in his look, having to remind yourself that the person in front of you is in fact in an exceptional situation. "You're in my house. I found you injured in the middle of nowhere. So I should be asking you!"

His face fell in shock at the realization, internal struggle present in his features as he finally whispered - no, whimmered "I...can't remember..."

Racketing his brain around to make sense of the situation, he stumbled across his own words and repeated "I-I-I-I can't remember!"

"Can't remember what exactly?" You spoke more softly now as you got up, tentatively approaching him. He on the other hand jumped up from the bed, panic increasing with every passing second.

"Anything! I-I don't know who I am- shit, what happened?!" He was shaking, muscular chest having as he started to hyperventillate. You hesistantly put your hand on his back, feeling him tense at the sudden contact. "Please don't move too much. You're injured."

Only now he noticed the medical wraps around his chest, abdomen, left arm and both legs. Hell, his whole body was aching but the adrenaline wouldn't let this stop him from standing up, pacing around the small room.

Being overwhelmed with the situation as well, you decided it was best to tell him everything. "D-don't freak out, but we're in the middle of the arctic." Having a feeling that he wouldn't believe you - fair enough, though - you opened the door, revealing a snowy landscape. The doorway was already halfway buried under a snowy blanket, and the heavy winds were biting his exposed skin. "We'll have to wait until the storm settles. And even then, with your injuries you probably won't make it to the nearest village."

There was a long pause of silence between your explanation and his response, blinking at you in both disbelief and despair. "...if you don't know me, then how the hell did I get here?"

"My best guess is that you're a supe" you shrugged, hoping his memory loss didn't also affect his general knowledge. You pointed towards the torn bodysuit in the bin, stating matter-of-factly "You literally fell out of the sky. Even with the snow absorbing part of the impact, you should be dead - especially with those injuries."

Not really good at comforting someone, huh, you internally scolded yourself. Yet you gave it your best to calm him down and sign your goodwill.

"Sit down or your wounds will reopen." After a brief moment of looking at you all forlorn and maybe even a little distrustful, he accepted your help. You led him back to the edge of the bed, sitting next to each other as support for him to stay upright.

"Doesn't feel like anything about this body is 'super' right now..." he joked bitterly, rubbing his sides. You chuckle sympathetic, carefully patting his back in reassurance. "Maybe you don't have access to your powers because of the amnesia? I'm not quite sure how any of this works."

"Yeah, maybe..." His eyes were now locked on you, forcing a weak smile as he finally took a proper look at you. "You still didn't tell me to who I owe my life."

"Me?" as inappropriate as it was for the situation, he did manage to make you flustered just by that - and it didn't really help that he was still only in his underwear, testing your decency not to stare. "Oh, my name's Y/N Y/L/N. I'm an ecologist. Been here for eight months to document the effects of climate change on the biome, and-"

"Climate change?" he rose an eyebrow at you, "There's a goddamn snowstorm outside, woman."

Oh. He was one of those guys. Note taken.

"Anyways" you changed the topic to not provoke a pointless discussion, still unable to keep yourself from rolling your eyes. "Do you at least remember your name?"

The man clutched the ragged costume you had handed him, forcing his exhausted self to remember something, anything at all...

...but every time he tried, there was a sharp pain in his forehead that tore him away from the memories locked away somewhere in his brain.

And smehow, no matter how insane it might sound, he felt like this was his own mind's subtle warning to better keep it this way.

"I think...my name's John" he ultimately stated, rubbing his temples as his face contorted in pain. You continued rubbing circles on his back in an attempt to comfort him, whispering "Hey, don't overdo it. Focus on healing first, and then we'll see if anything else comes back. Alright?"

John nodded mutely, and you gifted him an uplifting smile, cheering "Well then, nice to officially meet you, John! Feel at home as long as you need."

He shook your hand almost symbolically, feeling almost hopeful knowing that despite the grim situation, he was supported by such a kind stranger.

"Nice to meet you too, Y/N. I'm all in your hands."

_____

A/N: This was written on my phone at 1am, so please bear with me. The next chapters are gonna be better.

[Part Two]

[abysshare]

I feel like this needs to be said but i feel like I'll just be talking to a brick wall for the billionth time.

The ableism of disabled villains in fandom is so beyond tiring. Its bad enough when a grey or protag character gets it.

Today I'll be using Curly from Mouthwashing and William Afton from FNAF as an example.

Curly, isn't really a grey character. Maybe more of a protag, but since we play as Jimmy for most of it, he is kind of an antag. But for this post i will be putting him as a protag. Which reminder.

Protag doesn't mean good guy exactly.

Anyway.

Captain Curly is a burn survivor as well as a disabled man, with no skin, no hands or feet, and is left with one eye. The damage is pretty bad, and the Nurse ( Anya ) has done the best she could with what she had, which is pretty damn good considering all things.

How does the fandom treat him? Its a mixed bag but of course. Ableism.

They either give him "dog buttons", or infantalize him, coquette-ify him, erase the situation just because "its easier" or whatever else. And then theres some people who genuinely try by getting him to a proper hospital so Anya or another doctor can try and fix what they can, as well as give him an AAC device or a wheelchair, so on and so forth.

Its either shit as unfortunately expected or good enough that makes people genuinely do research or call out ableism.

Now lets look at William Afton. A villain, murderer, mad scientist and so forth. For this post I'll be strictly talking about The Fourth Closet William Afton and Burntrap.

For those who are not into FNAF. The Fourth Closet is a seperate timeline from the games, an AU. And Burntrap is TECHNICALLY not William now, but when Security Breach came out, we didn't know this.

A bit more backstory for those who do not know. William has an Animatronic suit that he can go into to perform or kill, but it has these things called springlocks. If something happens, they can go off and hurt and eventually kill him.

Moving on.

William Afton is a Springlock Victim ( and even though no fire happens in the book before the ending of The Fourth Closet, i would argue and say he does indeed have burn scars as well in the graphic novel ) aka ragged Metal throughout his skin.

As Burntrap, he is a metal burned skeleton with leftovers of Springtrap/Scraptrap with burnt flesh.

How does the fandom treat both versions of him?

As Burntrap: some people like him, some don't. Its purely because at the first reveal we all thought it was William himself somehow even though he is supposed to be dead-dead for real. His design CAN be cool, scary and great in the right spotlight.

However.....

Most people took the "haha peepaw" route of memes. Some being ageist and some being ableist. Making him a senile old man in a wheelchair or a walker with Vanny being his caretaker. Most of the time throwing him down the stairs or beating him with his mobility aid or threatening to. Sometimes they would also draw him in diapers with poop in it.

Utterly disgusting, ageist and ableist behavior all because this is a villain.

How do they treat TFC version of William? Well.... i don't see much of him to be frank. But either its coquette-ifying him ( which is just as gross as coquette-ifying Curly ), genuinely calling him pretty or being absolutely being ableist/rancid, or removing his scars all together.

What is the point I'm getting at?

If its a villain, like William, to Darth Vader to Hordak from the She Ra remake, to Belos from TOH.......

They get mocked for their disabilities because abled folks ( and even some disabled folks ) thinks the Villain or whoever deserves it as punishment.

But these same people will turn around and infantilize and baby, or dogify or coquetteify "good guy" disabled characters.

I haven't seen this in the Arcane fandom, while i don't doubt people have been ableist to Jinx, Silco or Viktor , at least it isn't as "loud".

Ableism isn't cute or funny. And while i UNDERSTAND these are characters- and that they are not real.

It HURTs real people.

And I'm talking as a disabled chronic pain person, so don't even start with me.

Ableists and shit will be deleted, ty.

Edit ( 12 / 9 / 2024 ): to add to this, i still see people making jokes, especially to make self shippers feel bad ( those who self ship with springtrap ), about how William most likely passed human fluids and gasses as he died-

Yeah. News flash: you do that no matter how you die. Even later in a casket as you're rotting away.

Now.. the act of him doing that as he dies isn't ableist within itself. But the fact that these people using the bit of him urinating and defecating himself as a joke Is ableist as there are folks with disabilities that can't control it, and there is no shame in that.

Also if you're trying to say "Springtrap smells like literal shit". Consider people already know this and either ignore that ( which is valid ) or yk. Have their insert take Springtrap home and clean him up and fix him.

Or have Springtrap clean himself up ( i imagine he does by the time he become Scraptrap, as best as he can anyway ).

.

As for Curly, i am seeing a lot of Videos that are finally talking about it. Thank the gods, moon, whatever.

Mouthwashing is one of those things you really don't need to ship anyone with anyone ( if you must i highly suggest making an oc because thats awesome ).

On top of that though I'm still seeing ableist art of Curly and probably will for awhile 😮‍💨

[da-devilish-devilboys]

What was your childhood like?

mah childhood? pretty basic, ta be honest.

can't remember most of it, but da parts i do weren't all dat grand or special or nuttin'.

let's see- uh, i don't really count it startin' till mah parents moved ta mildread from da drain.

ma n' pops are- were pretty smart scientists an' geneticists respectively, but down in da drain dere wasn't a whole lotta job oppurtunitys for stuff like dat. dey were poor, i was sick, an' da part of da drain dey lived in was basically a few years from cavin' in. so, when dey heard of people bein' able ta jump ship an' bail (Inspekta an' his at-da-time crew), dey tagged along. eye wouldn't actually meet Inspekta till wayyyyy latah', but dat's it's own thing-

den we landed in mildread, an' started rentin'. got a relatively nice house, considerin' da price at da time, an' it wasn't long aftah dat mah mom got hired on as a in-house doctor fer some elderly couple down in da grove, an' pops got a job as a travelin' salesman. supposedly, anyway, prettttty shore he was actually a hitman-for-hire, but again! a whole story fer anotha' time.

as fer my childhood proper i didn't really attend school till i was like, eight or nine? i would space out pretty bad a lotta' da time, so it made it difficult ta actually teach me stuff, so my ma' home-schooled me till it got bettah. i made like, one or two friends maybe durin' mah school days? most i remember clearly was learnin' some songs, strugglin' ta actually sing well cause i got da vocal range of a drowned cat. all-in-all, pretty okay. now it was when i was ten dat stuff actually started gettin' interestin'!

see, i always had an appreciation fer evil an' villainy, but eye didn' actually get inta it till mah tenth birthday. ma n' pops actually scrounged up enuff money fer presents dat year, an' i actually had a neighborhood kid or two show up. wanna know da present mah parents got me?

mah very first, villain costume.

now- it was cliche as all get out- da mask was dis papah' mache cardboard material, da inside had dis shitty, itchy foam lignin' and da gloves an' cape may as well'a been made outta shiny purple tissue paper, but i was ecstatic! it was den i actually started picturin' dat as a career fer me.

skip ahead a couple'a years, an' im in highschool. 15 years old. i finally gained an' attention span, stopped spacin' out fer da foist time evah, an' my memory started improvin'. it was here, where i would commit my foist real crime, mah foist step inta real villainy. i was in class, tuesday, an' da teacher wasn't in da room fer whatevah reason. eye noticed, dat not only did she leave her car keys on her desk, she also left da class window open!

can ya see where i'm goin' wit' dis?

now, naturally, bein' a stupid kid at da time, an' havin' already made a name fer myself bein' da weird-mean kid who was always sittin' in dentition aftah' school, eye pointed out dat hey, she left her car-keys, who wants ta dare me ta jack her car an' get snacks fer da class? to da surprise'a no one evah, everyone dared me too no second thoughts, an were tryin'a convince me nawt ta when dey realized i was actually gunna dew it. convince me dey did not.

yea needless ta say i got caught immediately, but not till aftah' i parked da car, climbed back inta da classroom, an' started passin' out drink an' snacks ta everybody! i got sent ta juvie fer da foist time, an' get sent dere regularly throughout da entirety of mah teen years.

i could tell y'all a few of da stories dat went on in juvie, but dat's fer a whole 'notha post entirely, an' i've already written wayyyy to damn much, haha.

[screen-universe-official-thingie]

Plague Doctor Cindy!

Hi, I drew this concept art sheet thing shortly after drawing the Butcher!Aurora art and I took a break after that. Sorry I didn't post this one immediately.

Edit: Some close ups and extra commentary have been added

Rambling below (TW: medical subject matter like diseases and surgery, death, delusions, and cannibalism)

Meta wise, she started out as a mad scientist for the sake of being a mad scientist by listening to Novocaine by Cree-P and GHOST, and Black Box Warrior-OKULTRA by Will Wood. I just imagined Cinderella going too hard or harsh on Lady Tremaine, her patient/ser-worker/co-star, with her research, experiments, and surgeries out of frustration, stress, and madness. Hell, I would not be surprised if she tried lobotomy at some point during her side jig/job as a doctor.

But ever since I listened to Butcher Vanity by Vane and Flavour Foley, Cinderella later grew to be more than just a plain old mad doctor as I revisited her Screen Universe para concept and explore what her deal is. From why exactly did she fall into this path, to her relationships with the characters related or relevant to her story. She became another tragic character. This time, someone who developed an obsession with finding a cure for the prions after it "ate up" her once villain co-worker friend with in-character or canon compliant delusions.

Some close ups

The other state was meant to say production as well, but I'm too lazy to fix the typo now

Cindy with the Bok-su pose is slightly cursed ngl, but it keeps living in my head rent free. The fact that they're both doctors doesn't make it any better ToT

Eldritch Cinderelly (the note says healthy because their true forms's color and brightness changes if they get certain health conditions. In this one, she should have been a bit dimmer and grayer due to the Discontinuation Rot)

Herbs and spices stuffed in the beak like a true plague doctor. Though, Cindy does this for different reasons. Instead of the original reasoning where the herbs will ward off the plague, she does this to replace the smell of burning and rotting flesh with as much fragrance as possible. It also puts her at ease

Stolen Ideas Inspo :>

How it'd look like under her apron/dress thing

Goggles stuff for eye protection

Eyes. Eye eyeballed (eh? eh?) her eye color because I can not find a good proper close up of her face and eyes in the official material and the coloring in the og movie looks a bit inconsistent at times.

Screen shots from the ID server itself again of course

OKULTRA cranking up the mad doctor inspiration (ft. Novocaine starting the whole thing prior to listing to OKULTRA)

I think this one is still pre-butcher vanity arc

meme

Typical Disney para behaviour

more Cinderella angst lore because yes

A shit ton of other paras have not so healthy relationships with their characters at this point. They include, but not limited to some Pokemon characters, and SpongeBob.

Health anxiety go brrrr

This is from when Butcher Vanity arc or obsession hit around. It expanded her lore and everything. It was a game changer for this specific para tbh. I think this is about four months after posting the past Cindy rambles shown in the previous screenshots

Ok, this one is from an ID adjacent server, but I feel like this is still a bit relevant to the whole thing

(Also from the ID adjacent server) Ok, this one is kinda complicated since I mentioned another para who had something to do with a different Disney centered subplot that somehow affected the plot and lore of the entire paracosm. Basically, Snow White helped one of her ser-workers to found a cult and... everything went downhill and batshit insane from there. Ruined or fucked over the entire government and all... you may either dig through my casual account for the answer or ask through the Screen Universe blog about it.

Bonus: A joke relevant to the whole Cinderella x Sleeping Beauty ft. prion plague debacle arc/subplot (I found this god damn image from Pinterest and I captioned it as "Cinderella and Aurora")

TLDR: 1950 Disney princess becomes a mad plague doctor, grows into another tragic para, becomes vegan as a trauma response, loses her villain patient to the plague's delusions, goes off into a deep end after burning said patient, despises cannibals, and turns into their world's equivalent to a veteran in a "has seen the origins of modern day problems and the horrors of war" way but the war is the plague from the distant past.

[fipindustries]

my own take on the doctor

of course i toyed with very many different iterations on how i would like to write my own regeneration of the doctor, i have done everything from the manic to the somber, from the affable to the stern, from the artist to the scientist.

the most recent one that i actually got really invested in would be this: Jennyanydots the gumby cat, mixed with Minerva Mcgonogall and Mary Poppins, but the one from the books. The Mary that was a lot more serious and maybe even a bit menacing while still being a whimsical magical nanny.

we've had our fair share of manic, energetic, wacky doctors. and we've had our fair share of bombastic, larger than life passionate doctors giving these big poetic speeches about how heroic they are and what is the meaning of kindness and how much of a big damn hero they are.

here i would aim for a more pragmatical, phlegmatic doctor. one who lets the impact of her actions speak far louder than words. she would walk in, back straight, face calm into any battlefield and with devastating brilliance stop the entire conflict without so far as getting a spot on her clothes. this would be a doctor of precise, clear words. one who doesnt break frame and who is tightly in control of herself at all moments, who always knows how to follow protocol, wether it be the proper manners for drinking tea amongst airborn psychic cephalopods, how to properly land a ship careening into a colission course with the rings of a planet orbiting a neutron star or how to tie your shoelaces.

of course there would be place for fun and whimsy. She would be the kind of teacher who chides her students from misbehaving or pulling a prank but then couldnt help but let a cheeky vulpine grin slip into her face at the end because, fair enough, the prank was rather clever.

she would affect this really prim and proper attitude and yet an unexpected cuss or a completly deranged statement would come out of her, said with the most serious face ever. her humor would be as dry as paper, with which she would make a paper plane to fly over the enormous heads of those she is mocking.

she would show the wonders of the universe to her companions with the genuine love and passion for knowledge and learning as miss frizz or jane godall, if there is a moment where she has no compunction in getting her hands dirty it is when it comes to getting on her knees in the mud to enthusiastically teach someone about a really weird 4th dimensional fungus that only grows on the aurora borealis of planets.

of course her attitude doesnt stop her from being cosmopolitan and affable, she would have a kind genuine smile for every single person she meets wether they be a drunken brigand in the 16th century with a heart of gold or a creature made entirely out of slime, no person would be ever beneath her no matter their class, station, biology, identity or species. and she would try to instill this same attitude to her companions, for example

-please, do not stare dear, it is rather rude -but doctor! they have seven eyes! -well, dont let that make you self concious about your conspicious lack of eyes then

Her design

for the sake of diversity points, and also because i think it would look genuenly cool, i would go with a middle eastern woman in her 50's, with an air of math teacher, but also emphasizing her adventurous side.

couldnt decide between these two. maybe the fist but make her a bit less balenciaga hot, a little older, probably a little less "ethnically ambiguous" (thanks dalle-3). or the second with the hat of the first one and no hijab (it feels weird for the doctor to have like explicit religious attire, imagine seeing them with a crucifix)

if she wasnt french i would choose Laetittia Eido

sadly she's french so we would have to go with the closest birtish equivalent.

Her regeneration In

i would try to break tradition so that she regenerates before the third act of the current story. usually regenerations happen AFTER the mayor conflict has been dealt with and the bad guys defeated, in here i would have it so that she regenerates and then goes on to defeat the bad guys, with the previous doctor deliberatly pulling it as an ace up his sleeve, last ditch attempt or a last minute power up.

the way to make it clear who she is would be that, whilst the previous person regenerated spread eagle, arms in the air, she would immediatly snap into a more tight pose, then do a series of checks for eye sight, hearing, pulse, and hand eye coordination. (she is taking her sweet time to do this while explosions are going all around her) afterwards she shakes off the dust of her shoulders and says something along the lines of "well! now that that is quite done... back to bussines" and she goes on as if nothing happened.

if there is a companion nearby kicking up a fuss about how how strange this all is have her patiently but firmly explain this is all perfectly normal and no reason to make a big deal out of. if the companion or whoever insists that she used to be a man and now is a woman have her do some pithy comment like "i am a gallifrean, dear" or maybe "is not that much difference between one or the other, is it? although i suppose for you humans there is"

her overall arc

I like to think of each regeneration as saying something about the doctor as an overall character, each one's overall personality being an evolution or a response to what he did before. 9 as the weary, ptsd ridden man trying to process the recent war crimes in the time war, 10 as the man in the process of falling into denial and megalomania to cope with the guilt, 11 as the manchild who regressed in emotional maturity to be fully compartimentalized away from it all. then comes a break after going back to fix the time war and once he got rid of the guilt and the horror of having killed his entire race he is left confused, not knowing who he is any more, 12 is a way to take one final look back at who he used to be (the fact the he is back to a classic who look, a cranky old man with a stern look) whilst figuring out who he wants to be moving forward. and then 13 was her exploring new ground, reinventing herself, starting fresh. (although ill admit, i am not really familiar with jodie wittaker's tenure as a doctor of if this holds any water through out her series).

in an individual sense, her arc would be about going from a hypercompetent hardass, who uses her expertise and intelect to be a bit aloof and keep people at arms length because deep down she is afraid that if she is not perfect and in control at all times then the horrors happen, companions are left to die or worse and civilizations fall. and turning into someone who can relax a bit, who can trust others to handle things on their own, who can relax and not have to be in perfect form at all times.

within the larger context of the series i would like her to be in some sense a return to basics, her going back to the original formula, to what has proven to work in the past. is in many ways the doctor struggling to find comfort in old habits but eventually learning that she can move past them. i will leave it open to whoever comes next to decide what they want to do with the doctor afterwards.

her bowing out

i would have her regeneration being finally the one moment of big sentimentality in her series.

she is with her companions, in fact i would have her be surrounded by a multitude of people she just sacrificed for, many of them the friends and allies she made through the series.

i would have her try to keep her cool at first, put on a brave face for her friends but then deciding that its ok, for once to be vulnerable and allowing herself to break into tears ("i must confess... i am rather afraid of this whole process, i always am, and i always try to face it with a brave face but... maybe for once...i just wish it werent so") and the multitude of people she saved console her and reassure her that she did great and that she will be fine. for extra schmaltz i would have an orchestral rendition of "for she's a darling good fellow" play in the background. one final teary smile from her by seeing all this support, maybe even an actual bow or a curtsy and then finally letting go by saying "thank you my dears"(*), cue regeneration.

(*) yes, this is in fact a reference to the musical cats, fucking sue me.

[tigereyes45]

This fic was so much fun to write. For Mcspirk Week 2023 Day 4: McCoy feeling left out. @mcspirkevents

Summary:

Usually Bones doesn't let the gossip get to him, but after a nineteen-hour shift the words of strangers hit a little differently. Deeper.

Preview of story:

When McCoy steps onto the bridge to fetch his partners he’s met with an empty captain’s chair. Turning his head he sees the science station just as abandoned. Where could they be? Leonard looks down at the PADD in his hands. He picked it up on the way. It was originally going to be an excuse, but now he’s thankful to actually have a second reason to be up here.

“Uhura any response from the science center on Minor Felin II?”

“None yet doctor. Would you like me to send them another message?”

“We might as well, yeah.”

How is he supposed to do his job, if the scientists with the new rounds of vaccinations won’t return his damn calls?

“Did you see that?” Chekov starts as McCoy relays what he needs to Uhura. The russian was barely whispering. What is with everyone forgetting the proper etiquette for gossip?

Damn, he’s starting to sound like Spock.

“They didn’t even say a word.” Awe fills Chekov’s voice. “Yet they were completely in sync. It’s incredible!”

“There’s no team quite like the captain and Spock.” McCoy could practically hear Sulu’s nod in his tone of voice alone.

“Thank you Uhura, it’s nice to know someone up here is focused on their job instead of gossip.” Bones announces poignantly. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees the two shift uncomfortably in their seats. Good.

Uhura smiles nervously up at him. Clearly, his statement had made his already ill mood even more apparent. A pang of guilt sweeps his annoyance away. He offers her a thin, appreciative smile. “Just keep me updated lieutenant.”

“Of course, doctor.”

McCoy waves his PADD at her in farewell. He marches towards the turbolift. Later he’ll invite the two out for drinks when they all have free time. Clear the air. It wouldn’t do to let his foul mood fester and ruin an otherwise pleasant atmosphere on the bridge. 

The doors were starting to shut as Scotty hopped in. Leonard raises the PADD. He keeps his eyes trained on it. Scotty fumbles with his hands at his sides. If there’s something sitting on his tongue he should just spit it out. Bones isn’t in the mood to coddle anyone. Not right now. 

Finally reaching a decision, Scotty asks, “You alright doc?”

[scribblestatic]

So, this is less a storyline thing and more making sure I have the background stuff straight.

Completely by utter accident, as I was bathing yesterday and thinking about the Sonic Robotnik AU, I was like, "What if Sonic was previously made by G.U.N. using notes from Shadow's creation, but since they didn't have an abundance of ultramega powerful alien to use cells from, they used Chao and Wisp cells? But all of their previous attempts at building the creature up correctly kept failing, so they decided to try a few different cell clusters. A scientist with G.U.N. gets one of them to work. What they didn't tell anyone is that the cells are from Maria Robotnik's corpse."

And then I thought about the fact I'd given Sonic the real name "Matija" in this universe and I was like, "Damn. This checks out fr."

So yeah, that's what I'm going with.

Matija "Sonic" Robotnik was originally made as a G.U.N. experiment to create their own version of Shadow, but it "failed" because some of the binding cells to ensure everything worked together came from Maria Robotnik. As such, Matija inherited her NIDS, and G.U.N. deemed his creation a failure, so they were going to incinerate him just like how they'd incinerated the previous attempts. But some people with some actual fucking morals decided to try and save the little experiment by falsely marking him as incinerated and actually escaping with him.

Tragically, a car accident killed one of the people in the small group saving him, though the little hedgehog survived because his body might be killing itself, but he can inherently stand blunt force trauma.

That's where Ivo comes upon the crashed car and the dead person since his sensors picked up a strange energy from the area. While inspecting the crash, he sees the little creature the person was protecting and decides to study them.

After some blood tests, he finds out fairly quickly about the NIDS, and the little thing is having a hard time breathing, so Ivo puts the little experiment in something of an incubator. He notices the chaos energy coming off the struggling creature, so he's like, "Well, if this little thing wants to survive, I suppose it's best to tend to it. After all, it's an interesting study subject."

He does his best not to admit how much he cares for the little creature once he gains enough strength to curl his little paws around one of Ivo's fingers.

He's most definitely not gotten in too deep once he gives the creature the "Proper Robotnik name" of Matija (again, pronounced MA-tee-ah, which is like Matthew but Serbian).

He definitely doesn't take pictures of Matija when his little ears open up and he responds to sound, or when his eyes finally blink open for the first time.

His heart does not melt when the little infant Mobian starts cooing happily or trying to crawl toward him whenever he sees him.

And he doesn't feel anger the longer he struggles to solve the problem with NIDS, going as far as to study medical science to try to better understand the syndrome. It most certainly doesn't help that Matija's body is a really screwy cocktail of Mobian, Chao, and Wisp with remnants of Black Arms and even teeny, nearly indecipherable, incredibly damaged and scrambled insertions of what used to be human DNA. Making medicine that works for him is an absolute nightmare, but it's a problem the great Doctor Robotnik can most definitely solve as a genius.

And he doesn't feel sadness seeing the days Matija's NIDS acts up more and he has to have a little oxygen tube uncomfortably inserted in one of his little nostrils just to help him breathe.

Matija is definitely not his son. For sure.

He absolutely does not become a softer, more caring but still selfish man simply because of the little Mobian's influence

...Anyway, by the time Sonic meets Knuckles, Dr. Robotnik already knows that Sonic's body uses chaos energy, but he doesn't have the know-how to teach him how to channel it or possibly try to self-heal himself. So, when Sonic starts learning how to start controlling the chaos energy in his body more, he considers it a bonus, but he's dedicated to eradicating the pumped-up bastardized disease for good.

To Sonic, Robotnik is his dad, wacky uncle, and primary care physician. And he'd do just about anything for him, short of taking over the world. Thankfully, Robotnik's megalomaniacal tendencies have shifted to better, more manageable goals and topics. Still incredibly selfish, yes, but that's just how his dad is. He loves him regardless.

[badmusejail]

@cosmiccanidae

Breathe.

In. Out.

It was about all he could do; trapped on this damned ship in the middle of god-knows-where, sitting on his bed in the one position that didn't hurt.

Breathing. Panting. Sobbing. Some combination of the three. Did it really matter?

The wound in question hadn't been caused by this captain or his crew, even if he had implied as much. Really, it was just a complication of a past injury; after repeated requests to the janitorial staff to fix a light in the lab, he'd gotten fed up and done it himself, falling off the ladder, resulting in a crack in his femur. The wound had healed incorrectly, causing a build-up of excess bone to form. Originally, it hadn't been a problem, but now, it was digging into the thigh, restricting the flow of magic.

It was a shame; fixing the problem would take barely twenty minutes of time from a proper doctor; simply sedating him, griding off the excess bone, and properly sealing the wound, but the cost was so prohibitively exorbitant that he refused to to see the doctor.

And now?

At least it gave him something to focus on, he supposed. Somewhere between the grief and boredom, he wanted to smash his head into the wall just to feel something else.

Day by day...

Logically, he'd known from the beginning that there would be no rescue. That he'd die on this ship, one way or another, but...that didn't stop him from hoping that maybe someone would find him, that maybe someone would pay some ransom, that maybe he meant something, that maybe...

But he knew that it was hopeless, that his research had already been passed on to the net bright-eyed scientist looking to prove themselves...

He had nothing more to say.

Why did this asshole fox keep bothering him?

Wasn't it enough that he had won?

[elslittlestories]

27 stars

or Decanting day #3

The last of this 3-part short story revolving around Tech and Wrecker's decanting day. I feel like my writing is still rusty but it was fun to play around the different POVs. If you want to discuss this or my AU in general, please feel free to slide in my DMs 😉

The whole story is available on AO3

POV: Dita (my OC)

Words count: 1 238

“The decanting process of CT-8324 [ndla: Tech], CT-8956 and CT-9732 [ndla: Wrecker] has begun,” says Zee.

“Honey, Sunshine and Baby,” I silently correct them as they start broadcasting the kid’s bio-charts on the main console.

I’m not allowed to access anything else, but after over two years of those charts have become as informative as a holovid. I can tell from Baby’s heartbeat rate that the anesthesia isn’t kicking in…I drag a stool in front of the console and sit. Please let there be a good outcome this time! I don’t think I can wait another 2 months with the nursery empty…

Ten minutes is, Honey and Sunshine seem to be having a smooth decanting, but Baby is awfully tachycardic. Soon he’ll be in respiratory distress, they always are when the anesthesia fails. Poor thing, I wish the Kaminoans would find a way to prevent that!

And here it is. Baby’s CO2 levels are skyrocketing. I clench my fist. What are they waiting for? This kid needs to be intubated!

A flash of red distracts me from Baby. Sunshine’s blood pressure has dropped dangerously! My throat tightens. Brain hemorrhage. A massive one judging by the numbers plummeting. Same thing that took the two kids from the previous batch and many more before. I don’t know what the Kaminoans are trying to do, but they’re obviously messing with something they shouldn’t if this keeps happening!

I take a glance at the board where all my kids are pinned. 17 pictures. 26 stars…They’re going to keep Sunshine for observation—and whatever experiments they’re doing—during the next 24 hours, but I already know he’s going to be the 27th star.

At least Honey is doing fine. They’re going to call me in to pick him up in a little less than an hour. Baby should be fine too in a day or two, and this place will finally be alive again.

After one last look at the screen, I slid off the stool and head to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I smile to myself. I’ve filled it with enough blue milk to feed a squad or two. I overdid it, but I’ve been dreaming of pouring some in a baby bottle for months now!

I don’t care what the doctors say, this is the smoothest way to acclimate the kids’ tummy to proper food after having been fed through an IV for so long while they’re in their tubes. Besides, those mad scientists would have to give an ounce of care about what I do here to find out about it. As Nala Se put it during my job interview, I’ve been given total freedom to achieve their goal. Which is good little soldiers that follow orders…

I wake up with a start and it takes me a moment to remember I settled in bed with Honey to help him fall asleep. He’s curled up against me, his hand is griping my collar, and his head is resting on my arm. That’s what awoken me: I can’t feel my left hand and the rest of my arm are pins and needles.

Carefully, I shift him on my chest and flex my arm to regain sensations. He mumbles, wiggles a little before going still, his little body rising and falling to his breathing. The cards I gave him earlier are scattered all over the bed. He’s already memorized all of the species! I’ve never seen a kid like him. Asking so many questions and grasping some complex concepts so easily.

It’s a shame these children are brought to life in such awful conditions, and meant to become soldiers, but I can’t help but be thankful for the little time I get to spend with each of them. I squeeze Honey into a hug and peck the top of his head. Officially, I’m here to ensure they become obedient enough for the Kaminoans’ standard. But I’d be damned if I didn’t do my best to give them as much love and care as I can while doing so!

I hope Baby will join us tomorrow. His vitals were last time Zee checked, but like most of the kids who experienced a bumpy decanting process, he’s taking some time to wake up. It’ll be good for the boys to be together. One thing that never changes is how clones hate loneliness.

I try to focus on Honey’s breathing to prevent my mind from wandering off to those who left. I can’t help but think about 99, alone and out of reach in the main training building. I’ll have to send him a message. He’ll be happy to know about the newborns. For now, it needs to only be in…and out…and in…

Sunshine’s charts glow red on the console. Below them, Baby’s are all nominal. It’s been 24 hours, the doctors are going to call it for both of them any minute now. I twirl the star-shaped pin between my fingers.

From the corner of my eyes, I can see Honey downing his blue milk, sitting on the floor by the window. A rare ray of sun pierces through the clouds and casts its light on the floor. He reaches out to touch it, or maybe just feel the warmth.

The console beeps. Sunshine is offline. I purse my lips and walk to the board. That’s 27 little stars now…I’m not sure there’s anything waiting for us after we die, but if there is, I hope they all found each other.

“CT-9732 [ndla: Wrecker] is ready for transfer,” Zee informs me, bringing me back to reality—How long have I been staring at that board?

Honey snaps his neck to me.

“Can I go with you?”

I don’t have the heart to say no. I don’t think the doctors would care anyway. I hold out my hand and wait for him to stand up and come to take it.

“He’s still sleeping, though,” I warn him.

“How do you know?”

I point at the screen, “His heart rate is slow.”

Honey squints, then lifts his face up to me, frowning.

“It’s still early for physiology lessons,” I chuckle. “Come on, they don’t like to wait.”

We make our way to the lab’s med bay, Honey ahead, pulling at my hand me all along. I’m amazed he remembers the route! Although, the feeling is washed over by a burst of anger when I see Sunshine’s body have already been dealt with. His bed empty, the monitors turned off. It’s not exactly a surprise, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how fast they discard these poor kids.

I force myself to focus on Baby who’s lying on the next bed. Zee gently removes his captors and I bend over him to wrap his covers around his necked body. I slip my arms under the boy, lift him, cradle him onto my chest and adjust his position so his head nests in my neck. Someone left a gurney nearby, but I want Baby to experience human warmth as soon as possible.

Honey pats his brother on the back. With a tilt of my head, I invite him to follow me outside. There’s no need in staying in this awful place longer than we have to. As I walk out, I can feel a tug on the covers where Honey has grabbed onto the fabric. This, at least, softens my heart.

[clarktooncrossing]

HEY THERE PEOPLE OF TODAY AND ROBOTS OF TOMORROW! IT'S ME, CLARK! There is a madness deep in the dark catacombs of Castle Clarkenstein. For years these claustrophobic corridors have been the home of the ghoulish giraffe himself, watching as the world passes by. He prefers it this way. It gives him more time alone with the voices. The voices tell him many strange things. Yet they always come back to one: make more monsters! Everyday they tell him this. Everyday he is unable to comply. Hey, being a mad scientist on a budget means he can’t afford the fancy scientific equipment needed to breathe life into newborn abominations. Guy’s gotta afford pizza somehow. Luckily, he has discovered a way of sorts to please the voices. During all those years of watching, Dr. Clarkenstein noticed a particular pattern. Every night during October saw artists posting new pictures based on peculiar prompts. Many of them based on children of the night. While the spotted specter might not be able to craft new zombies, he can sure as heck sketch’m! As such, I provide this friendly warning to you all now: Be afraid. Few people can survive the horrors that are DUDELZ of the Damned!

By that I mean I decided to do my own take on Sketchtober this year just minus the prompts. Anybody gotta problem with that? Tough, cuz I already drew this crap so you might as well check it out.

It is said a monster once menanced the mundane town of Milton, Georgia. The year was 1816, the same year Doc Clarkenstein inherited his family’s enormous estate. By then the young giraffe had been attending school in order to advance the field of biochemistry. It was all he could do to cope with the loss of his family. Being the last of the Clarkensteins was a horrifying revelation for the spotted student. Made no better by the fact that he had yet to meet a woman, settle down, and have a child of his own. What if he died tomorrow? His proud heritage would be lost then and there. Death, it seemed, was his ultimate enemy. Faced with this proposition, the one man clearly had one course of action: conquer death. Should he discover the secrets of restoring life to those already passed, then surely he would have nothing to fear! Except maybe the uptight heads of the university, who disbarred the madman after he proposed his theories to him. As far as they cared, only God may tamper with life itself. Well if God didn’t want the disavowed doctor to meddle with the afterlife, why would he give him this idea anyway? Who were these stuffy scholars to tell the grieving man that he couldn’t bring back the dead? None of them could stop him. Especially now that his family home was fitted with what he needed: a proper lab filled with body parts harvested from nearby cemeteries. Most of them having belonged to American crocodiles for some oddly specific reason. Eh, beggars can’t be choosers. With all of this assembled, the young doctor gave birth to a new form of creature: Crocenstein!

Much like the AH Wolf, Crocenstein is yet another idea I’ve had for a while. The idea first sprang up in a Halloween comic for 2014 exploring Bumper’s fear of Ghostbusters. After the little ghostly goober is zapped at, slimmed, and set ablaze as a giant marshmallow, the comic ends with Crocie giving his wife the stinky eye for showing him the flick. It’s there we can see my original Crocenstein design, which wasn’t that good in hindsight. Ignoring how derivative it is of the design made famous in the films, the clothes he’s wearing are too clean and there’s few indications that he’s essentially a zombie. Dude’s supposed to look dead, not like he has an exaggerated forehead. That’s not even getting into the problems with Alberta’s Bride, but that’s a subject for another DUDEL. For now I just knew my buddy’s monstrous variant needed an update. After drawing this picture twice, I think it’s safe to say it came out looking good. Gone are the clothes in favor of different body parts from various species of crocodilian and reptiles. Unlike his book counterpart, Doc Clarkenstein isn’t too picky about parts. Especially when the end results look so cool regardless! Expect more of this monster in the future, but for now I hope you all enjoy this DUDEL!

MAY THE GLASSES BE WITH YOU!

[pixie-dust-campaign]

Subject W42

CW: Guns, PTSD, Lost love, blood, bullet wounds

It was early for me by the time I got off the plane, still not used to the time change. I was given a badge that read “ALL ACCESS” before I was escorted by a security guard down a narrow, white painted hallway. The door had a military insignia emblazoned on the glass, but I didn’t recognize which division it was. The automatic door opened to a dark room that had fluorescent blue lights hanging from the tall ceilings, and the temperature set at 69 degrees Fahrenheit. The air was thick with the scent of metal and axe body spray. Doing field research in the great barrier islands, it had been a while since I had been in an actual lab, but I was pretty sure this wasn’t the smell of greatness that I had heard so much about.

Before formally entering the lab, a few young scientists showed me to a set of changing rooms to get into proper attire. This room had bright white lights hanging from the ceiling, causing me to squint as my eyes adjusted. The dim white lights made my tanned skin look darker than it was. My wavey, golden bronze hair looked redder against the stark white lab coat they insisted I wear. I was permitted to stay in my decorative black yoga pants, light blue top, and gray high-top sneakers. Looking in the full-length mirror of the dressing room, I noticed I had lost some weight, and now had a faint hourglass figure. Living like a pirate for the past three years looks good on me, I thought with a smirk.

As I walked into the lab, I didn’t mean to stand on ceremony, but I honestly had no idea who I was supposed to be meeting with. That was, until an older woman in a lab coat and stubby heels walked up to me with open arms.

“Doctor O’Dame we are so glad you’re here! Well don’t stand in the doorway, come in!” she said with a slight British accent. Even with her slender frame, her hug was strong enough to make a bear think twice. She wore thick rimmed glasses, and her mousey brown hair with slim silver streaks was tied messily in a tight bun. Her ID badge said Doctor M. Braver.  Even in heels she wasn’t too much taller than I was. Her face was a bit weathered, but her green eyes were still young. She sounded like she had drunk about ten cups of espresso that morning.

“Yes, it must have cost the company a fortune to fly me back in from Australia,” I said.

“Oh yes! The land down under,” she cooed in a fake Australian accent of her own “How is it down there, mate?”

“Quite horrid this time of year actually. Tourists come in  and mess with my studies and what not,” I said with a small laugh and a smile.

I was astonished by the machinery that surrounded me. The blinking lights, the constant clicking of keyboards, the stark brightness of computer screens. Not to mention the array of color-coded wires all leading to different ports. Catching my reflection in one of the monitors, I noticed the lights highlighted the blue flecks in my typically hazel eyes.

A siren wailed from another room, causing me to gasp quietly and start to shake slightly. I haven’t been able to go near an alarm of any kind in the past few years, especially not a fire alarm. They always hurt my ears, but after the accident, the mere mention of one made my heart race.

“Doctor O’Dame?” Doctor Braver asked.

“Yeah, sorry,” I replied, slowly centering myself back to reality. “The boat doesn’t have nearly this many-um- lights. It’s just a bit…distracting.”

“Yes, well, you get used to it after a few years. That, and the fact that no one in this damn lab knows how to make a proper cup of tea. Anyway, I have much to show you!”

She formally introduced herself and guided me around the lab, quickly catching me up on all of the work they had been doing over the years. “Our idea was that we could enhance both animal and human DNA, creating a whole new form of- “

“Super soldier?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“In a word, yes. We thought we could take each of the best elements of some of the strongest animals in the world, and transfer them to a human. Maybe not all at once but definitely over time, or one animal skill per test group.”

She continued explaining as we entered another room, decorated in the same fashion as the first, with five more rows of fancy computers and their adjoining scientists. Do these guys ever blink? I thought.

At the front of the room, there was a large sofa, a wooden table, and some clipboards and pens, on top of a platform. About six feet in front of the platform was a sheet of clear thick plexi-glass, that I’m assuming was only one way. On the other side of the glass looked like a padded prison cell. A slab of concrete for the floor, three walls made of pillows and at the very back was a steel door with a single small window near the middle.

“This Doctor O’Dame, is where you come in,” she said pleasantly as she led me up to the couch.  Another scientist then handed me a clipboard with my name at the back in glittering calligraphy:

Doctor Siena O’Dame

“We flew you in for two very important reasons.” She continued, “The first being your expertise in large mammal and human psychology. And while some argue that humans are large mammals, I can assure you that it is a very important distinction.”

As I took a seat, the sofa slowly began to move, and I saw the first product of their experiment as we glided past the cell. A man with tattoos covering his arms, wearing a black tank top, khaki cargo pants, and tan sneakers. The sofa stopped abruptly, and bright blue lettering appeared on the glass.

Jonathan Frome

Age: 26

Division: U.S. Marine

Position: Test subject B45

Status: Stable

“B45? What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means, Doctor O'Dame, that Mr. Frome was our 45th subject to be genetically manipulated with Oryctolagus Cuniculus DNA.”

“You gave him bunny DNA?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“You know your geno-types. Yes, Doctor O’Dame, he now has the keen hearing ability, similar to that of a rabbit. Combined with his human DNA, Mr. Frome can now hear in a wider range of tones and from a further distance than any human can ever dream of.”

“Remarkable,” I said, rising from my seat.

“Yes, the company spared no expense.”

“Clearly.”

Then the platform shifted again, causing me to trip back into my original place on the sofa. I wrote down some notes from each subject we passed. Each one was dressed in a similar fashion, each one looked human, and each one we passed was considered “stable.” A few even waved “hello” as we passed.

G15: Gorilla DNA, now the strongest mammal known to man; T22: Sea Turtle DNA, can hold her breath for up to eight hours; O34: Ostrich DNA, can run up to speeds of 50 miles an hour.

Before we got to the next room, near the end of the alphabet of test subjects, I asked, “Not that I’m not grateful, but you seem to have this under control. Why do you need me?”

“Because, while the transfer of DNA went well physically, some of our patients have been having a bit of a hard time adjusting psychologically. Most of the cases we were able to handle, except for one. Which brings us to the second reason why you’re here.”

The sofa moved to the next room and stopped once more.

In the dark padded room, in the very corner, sat a beast like none other I had seen. This one didn’t look human. He was covered in dark brown fur and had giant paws for hands and feet. It had ripped through its shirt, and only the top half of his pants remained. Its bowl was overflowing with cereal, and its water created a ring of rust on the metal bowl.

“You created a werewolf? An actual werewolf?” I breathed, curious as ever.

“Well…yes.” Dr. Braver responded. “And…no.”

Then the projector cast the creature’s information on the glass, and I read a name I never thought I would see again.

JUSTIN HERSHEY

AGE: 33

Division: Coast Guard, Engineer

Position: Test Subject W42

Status: Unstable, Dangerous

Tears welled in my eyes, and my breath caught in my lungs. “Justin?”

“You know this subject. What was he to you?” Doctor Braver asked.

“He…” I stroked my fingers for a ring that wasn’t there, “He was my fiancé.”

“Doctor O’Dame, I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t know.”

“It’s ok. Calling off the engagement was a mutual agreement when he shipped out on his first mission. Though, when he said he was going into the service, I never thought this was what he meant.” I went to place my hand on the cold plexi-glass. “How? How is he here? I…I went to his funeral. We… we buried a casket, I- “

“I know you must have a lot of questions- “

“Why did you bring me here?” I shouted at Doctor Braver, my blood boiling.

“Doctor, let me explain.” She said calmly, “You were listed as Mr. Hershey’s emergency contact when he first started the study. Before he underwent transformation, he never got a chance to change it. At first, we didn’t think anything would go wrong. If only we had known.”

I was at a loss for words. What was I supposed to say when I had just found out my ex- fiancé, whom I thought was dead, had been turned into a werewolf?

“I…I want to see him,” I said as I hopped off the platform.

“No, Doctor O’Dame! Wait- “

Before I could hear her warning, I headed for the door that read restricted access, and to my surprise, opened it with ease. I turned left down a narrow hallway, then left again to find myself in a much larger hallway lined with steel doors. Each door was labeled with the test subject’s ID. A55, B45, C67. It felt like a dizzying game of Bingo.

Finally, I found Justin’s door.

W42. DO NOT ENTER.

But I couldn’t resist. I had to see him for myself.

I unlocked the door with my key card, and gently pushed it open. I walked in slowly, giving my eyes time to adjust to the poorly lit space. The beast they claimed was Justin had moved from the corner I last saw him in. I slowly shuffled my way to the center of the room where the light was brightest, and stood frozen. From the darkness, I heard a deep growl rumble from behind me. My heart skipped a beat, as I slowly turned around and saw it. Two glowing teal eyes surrounded by dark fur and accented with a wicked smile of sharp white teeth. He had the body and face of a wolf, but the kindness in his eyes was still human.

I backed away slowly with my arms extended.

“Justin? It’s me. Please.”

The beast's face softened, but only for a moment. It shook its massive head, and resumed snarling at me.

“Justin. Please I-“ Like any good predator, he had backed me against a wall.  “Please.”

Then the beast pounced toward me, and I fainted.

In my subconscious, I remembered how Justin looked the last time I saw him alive. Justin was never extremely muscular, but he was strong enough for my liking. When he was human, he had messy blond hair, and pale blue eyes that drew you in.

When I finally came too, I was greeted by a bright white light, which was a bit concerning to say the least. Shortly after however, Doctor Braver came into focus.

“WHAT were you thinking? Going in there all alone? Are you mad?” She screamed at me, throwing her hands in the air.

“Completely bonkers. But that’s what makes me a great scientist,” I said, sitting up on the gurney. I noticed my right forearm was wrapped in gauze, and they had three distinct lines of blood casting a shadow on them.

“It’s what’s going to get you killed in this lab!” She scolded me, with her face scrunched as tightly as her bun. “Subject W42 is the reason you were brought here in the first place, and if you had let me finish before running off like that, I would have told you why! Subject W42-”

“Justin! His name is Justin!” I corrected through gritted teeth.

“Not anymore,” Doctor Braver said solemnly. It sent shivers down my spine thinking about what she meant.

“We attempted this experiment with other subjects. He was the only one who survived. You were almost right when you first saw him, Doctor O’Dame.” She said sitting spread eagle on a chair, “He is a werewolf. But not in the sense that he changes with the full moon, or has a feud with a sparkly vampire. No, our werewolf is something that science has never seen before. And we need you to crack him.”

“Me?”

“Yes! You see Doctor O’Dame there were moments in the experiment where, even in wolf form, he would tap your name in morse code on the door. Well, that and Harley, but we couldn’t find a ‘Harley’ with any relation to him. So, we assumed he meant like a motorcycle or boat he had.”

“Harley? He tapped Harley?”

“Yes! Does that mean something?”

“It used to. We used to joke that we were like Harley Quinn and Deadpool, because of our jobs. Him being a soldier and I being a psychologist. Not to mention the color schemes matched. So, we came up with a catchphrase of sorts. ‘Deadpool and Harley, forever and always.”

Then I remembered something I hadn’t in a very long time. The way he looked at me, the way he smiled, the way it felt when his arms were wrapped around me. Justin was only about a foot taller than I was when he was human, now he towered over me. Once again, tears welled in my eyes, but I kept them back. Then I looked down at my bandaged arm.

“I need to go back in.”

“We thought you might. So, this time, safety measures are going to be put in place. We’re going to put you both in a bigger room, and we’re going to turn on the sensors for your protection. This time, he won’t be able to hurt you.”

They had me change into my own set of black tank top and cargo shorts before they escorted me to the new room where Justin and I were to meet. The path we took to get there resembled a maze, but I guessed it was just another one of their precautions. I no longer felt like another doctor in the lab. Now, I was another test dummy for them to run experiments on.

When we reached the room, the steel door was labeled in the same fashion as the rest of them.

Caution! Experimentation in progress!

Authorized personnel only.

After the stunt I pulled with the first trial of this experiment, I was no longer “authorized personnel.”

They left me alone in front of the door, and told me to wait for further instruction.

“Whenever you’re ready Doctor O’Dame,” a voice finally said from an overhead speaker.

I grasped the handle of the metal door and took a deep breath. I opened the door slowly, and shuffled my way in. The door shut behind me and I heard it automatically lock once more. No way out.

Once again, the beast was nowhere in sight.

“Justin?” I called out. “Justin, it’s me. Siena.” I heard a small growl, and I froze once more. “Jay, I won’t let them hurt you. Just…just come on out, and we can talk. Okay?”

From the end of the room, he emerged into the light on his hind legs. His claws were almost as sharp as his teeth. He stood ten feet tall, and at least six feet wide. He had his paws crossed and his tail between his legs.

He dropped down to all fours, almost cowering before me.

“H-h-Harley?” the beast moaned in a low, gruff voice. The beast looked me up and down. When he saw my bandages, he stepped back and whimpered.  “Harley… hurt?”

“You can talk?” I said in astonishment.

The beast grunted in agreement. “I…hurt…Harley.”

“No, no! I’m ok. I know Justin would never hurt me.”

The beast recoiled at the sound of the name.

“No. Not…Justin.” The beast grunted. Every time he said Justin’s name, it seemed to pain him.

“Not Justin? Where is he?” I asked the beast inching forward.

“Justin…here.”

I inched forward even closer, “What do you mean- “

Suddenly, the wolf lunged for me once again, pushing me into the far wall of the cell, setting off the sirens and initiating the safety protocol. The sirens wailed, and my vision began to blur. Tears streamed down my face, my body began to shake, and my heart was about to beat out of my chest. I curled into a fetal position and just wanted it to stop. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw what used to be Justin convulse as well, until he collapsed in a heap on the floor.

When the sirens finally turned off, and I was able to stand and see straight again, I marched over to the door and banged my fists on it until it opened.

“Take me to see Doctor Braver, NOW!” I demanded the young scientist who opened the door for me. He led me to the office where Doctor Braver, as well as a few other scientists were working.

“Turn them off.” I said through gritted teeth.

“What?” Doctor Braver looked at me, puzzled.

“I said turn the sensors off!”

“Are you mad? If we turn the sensors off, that THING could kill you!”

“But he won’t!” I said sternly.

Doctor Braver and I stared at each other, unyielding, for what seemed like hours. Neither of us wanted to back down.

“He wasn’t trying to hurt me, doctor, he was trying to protect me! He didn’t want me to trigger the sensor myself! He was trying to push me out of the way!”

“And why was he trying to keep you out of the sensor?”

“Because Justin knows I have P.T.S.D, and alarms are my trigger! Whether you know it or not, my Justin is still in there!”

Everyone in the room was taken aback by my statement. They all looked to Doctor Braver for what to say next.

“If you die,” she finally rasped, “We have no other option. We’ll have to kill him. He’s too dangerous to release.”

“Doctor, he will not hurt me,” I said firmly.

After a long pause, the doctor released the tension in her shoulders and gave the command. “Turn off the sensors.”

Once again, I was escorted to the room where Justin was, only this time, Doctor Braver came with us.  “Doctor O’Dame,” She started hesitantly, “it didn’t say anything in your file about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, if I had known- “

“It’s not something I readily talk about.”

“Right.” She looked slightly embarrassed. “I am quite curious though. Why do alarms affect you so? For the sake of your own safety.”

I looked down at the floor as we walked. It wasn’t something I enjoyed reliving. “When I was in high school,” I began, “a shooter came to my school. They pulled the fire alarm to try and flush us all out into the parking lot. The teachers didn’t let us leave. Instead, they told us to stack desks against the door, and sit in the corner as quietly as possible. An hour. That’s how long it took them to turn off the alarm. Most of us came out untouched. Most of us.” I pulled up my shirt to reveal a small scar from where a bullet pierced my stomach. “The shooter broke through the glass window in the door and aimed the gun at one of my friends. Doctors said it would have killed her if I didn’t shield her. It’s a small price to pay to be a ‘hero’.”

All of us were silent for the rest of the walk.

When we reached the door, I was again left alone until I was ready to go in.

Once inside, I walked calmly to the center of the room and sat Indian style on the cold concrete floor. Then, I waited for him to come out.

After a minute or two, he too came into the light and sat down in front of me, looking even larger and more intimidating than the last time.

“Hi again,” I said with a smile.

No response.

“I promise I won’t let them hurt you this time. Not again.”

The wolf shifted its weight a bit, but didn’t respond.

“Where is Justin?” I asked the wolf, standing.

“Justin…here.”

“Where? Inside of you? Did you…eat him?”

“No,” he said, shaking his massive head. “Justin…here.” The giant wolf said as he bowed, touching his nose to his heart.

“Justin… is in your heart?”

The giant creature shook its head once more. Then, he laid as flat on his stomach as he could and shifted until he was inches away from me. “Justin…here.” The beast repeated.

“I’m sorry, but I… I don’t understand.” I said, dropping to my knees.

Then the creature searched around the room for something. When he came to a chair, he slowly moved it across the room to where he had been sitting before.

“Justin…” Then he ran behind the chair, making himself as small as possible.

“Justin…is hiding?” I asked.

The beast excitedly wagged its tail.

“Justin’s hiding! From who?” I asked, just as excited.

The beast looked disappointed in me. Then he repeated the same motion as before. “Justin…here.” Then he hid behind the chair.

Several times he repeated this motion.

Think Siena. What is Justin trying to tell you? Justin. Here. Hide. Justin, is here, but he’s not hiding? Then I remembered something I hadn’t before. When Justin was packing to leave, he took one book with him, Jekyll and Hyde.

I remembered the way our dimly lit apartment smelled of burnt garlic bread and lasagna. Justin attempted to make me dinner before he left. We drank a white wine we had been saving for a special occasion, and then I helped him pack. We kept getting distracted, and slow dancing to the music we turned on. Our hands fit together like Tarzan and Jane’s, and our bodies seemed to move as one.

“Justin, my Deadpool,” I whispered as we danced, “Even though our engagement’s been called off until you get back, I can’t wait to marry you,” I said, kissing him gently.

“As you wish, my Harley,” he whispered back.

When the song ended, we turned off the music and finished packing his remaining few items.

Then, we crawled into bed, and he grabbed Jekyll and Hyde off the nightstand. Gently wrapping his arms around me, he read aloud from the book. I mindlessly traced the veins on his hand with my thumb, memorizing every divot of his skin as he read. “I learned to recognize the thorough and primitive duality of man; I saw that, of the two natures that contended in the field of my consciousness, even if I could rightly be said to be either, it was only because I was radically both.”

He wasn’t hiding from me; he was telling me his name!

“Justin!” I shouted excitedly. The beast stopped. “Chapter ten. Page one hundred and four. That was the last thing you read to me before you left. Before Justin left. That next morning, I found a note on your coffee cup, ‘Forever and Always my Harley. Love Deadpool.”

The beast jumped up and down excitedly, shaking the entire room and knocking me over. When he saw me on the ground, the monster froze, calmed down, and walked over to me. He helped me to my feet, but he remained on all fours.

“Can…Can Justin hear me?” I asked.

Again, the creature nodded.

“You’re not Justin?”

The creature shook its head.

“What should we call you?”

The beast didn’t answer.

“Grog? Steve? Fluffy?”

The beast shook its head in disapproval.

“How about Hyke? It’s like Hulk, but…cooler.” I suggested.

“H-h-Hyke. Me…Hyke. Justin…here.”

“Okay, different question. Can Justin ever come back?”

This time the creature nodded, and gently smiled.

“How?”

Before I got an answer the room filled with a sweet-smelling white smoke. My vision went blurry, and my limbs felt as if they weighed 100 pounds each. I felt my entire body wobble, and my legs gave out. And once again, the room went dark.

When I woke up, I was back in my hotel room, as if it was all a bad dream. But, if it was a bad dream, I would still be in Australia, on my boat, studying the wildlife of the deep. No. This experiment was all too real. On my bedside table, on the base of the lamp I saw a sticky note.

“Javier will pick you up at 8:30 am. Sorry about the possible hangover.

- Doctor Braver”

I looked at the digital clock next to the lamp, 6:13am. Not knowing what else to do, I looked through the pay-per-view movies on the hotel tv, and thankfully found an old version of Jekyll and Hyde. The quality was gritty, and the voices were a bit distorted, but it gave me what I needed.

The movie ended at 8:15, leaving me just enough time to get coffee from a nearby Starbucks, and meet Javier outside of the hotel.

The car he picked me up in had black out windows, and a screen dividing the front and back seats. I wasn’t sure whether to be scared or honored.

When we finally reached the facility, two of the scientists asked me to change into my tan attire, and a lab coat.

“I need to speak to Doctor Braver immediately,” I said once I finished getting changed.

“No need to file a formal invitation Doctor, I’m right here,” she assured me, coming from behind a changing curtain herself.

“Doctor Braver, I think I know how we can bring Justin back- “

“Bring him back?” Braver laughed. “We don’t want him back.”

“What do you mean? Isn’t that why you brought me here?”

“Good heavens no! We want you to train him! Make him like the other patients. You know…obedient.”

“Obedient? But he’s clearly not like the other subjects! He’s- “

“Different? He’s…stronger? Kinder? Oh no I’ve got it, he loves you more than anything in the world, and you know in your heart that he wants to come back to you!” she mocked. “Trust me, Doctor. I’ve heard it all before.”

“You…you knew? You knew he was trying to get to me?”

“Well, not at first. But after your first encounter with him, it became very clear that he still had some of his conscious mind left. He did put up one hell of a fight though.”

“He never scratched me, did he? You did. When I was unconscious.”

“Yes. But we had no choice.”

“No choice? You’re scientists, there’s always another choice- “

“Not this time!”

My head was spinning. How could she have done this? How could I have been so stupid as to let it happen?

“An antidote. Do you have an antidote?” I sneered.

“Of course we do, don’t be stupid. We have an antidote for all our subjects. It’s called a gun.”

She pointed a small handgun at me, and whatever scientists were still in the room had fled.

“This isn’t right Doctor Braver. You know it as well as I do. Plus, what’s a simple bullet to a beast like that?” My voice shook. I raised both of my hands, but didn’t move otherwise.

“The government isn’t paying me to do things right, Doctor O’Dame. They’re paying me and my boss for results! And if you won’t do it, then there are plenty of others just like you who will. And as for the bullet, you’re absolutely right. You see this particular bullet is lined with a poison of my own creation. When our first bullets didn’t work, we had to get a bit more... creative. Like you said, there’s always another way. Now, you have two choices, either get in the cage and make that MONSTER do as we tell it to, or suffer the same fate it does.”

“Fine! I’ll help you.” I said after a minute or two. “But I want in. I won’t put my life on the line without getting something in return.”

“That can be arranged.” She said lowering the weapon.

“I want a gun of my own. For protection.”

She looked me up and down, then called back to the room without breaking eye contact. “Emily! Get Doctor O’Dame a gun.”

I was given a small handgun, loaded without poison bullets. Then we walked back to the steel doored room where Justin was being kept. I tried to memorize every turn we took. Left, right, second hallway, door code 3-3-6-4, right. After a while, the directions got jumbled in my head, and the various codes seemed to morph together. Damn security measures.

This time, Doctor Braver went in with me. We both made our way to the center of the room, and waited for Hyke to make an appearance.

A growl came from the darkness, this time accompanied by the sound of chains. He came through the darkness snarling at Doctor Braver, choke collar secured around his neck. Blood dripped from where the collar was screwed into his skin.

“You chained him up?”

“You might be willing to greet him without precaution, but I’m not. When you had the sensors shut off, I had to resort to different means.”

Hyke let out a deafening bark that reverberated around the room.

“Down doggie. Don’t make this worse than it has to be,” was all Doctor Braver said.

I walked over to Hyke, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry they’re doing this to you,” I whispered. “We’ll figure a way out. I promise.” I looked at Doctor Braver, “He won’t hurt you while I’m here. The chains aren’t needed.”

“My dear, do you think I was born yesterday?” she said with a chuckle. “He’s in shackles because he only listens to you. Take those off, and I lose all the power.”

This was the final straw. I unholstered my gun and aimed it at her, and she did the same with me.

“I don’t want to shoot you Ms. O’Dame. Don’t be- “

“It’s Doctor O’Dame!”

“Either way, don’t be stupid. Put the gun away, and we can forget you ever took it out in the first place.”

Hyke growled at her once again, and shielded me partially with his right paw. Even in this state, all he wanted to do was protect me.

“It’s two against one Doctor Braver. I wouldn’t take my chances.” I threatened from behind him.

“I would.” She let a bullet fly, and so did I.

As if in slow motion, Hyke moved in front of me, pulling against his shackles making the spikes of the collar rip into his throat. Before the poisoned bullet reached me, it entered his ribs instead. He yelped, and blood flowed from his neck, and his side. At this rate, even without the poison, he was losing too much blood to survive. He collapsed onto me, knocking me to the ground and rendering me unable to move.

My bullet on the other hand just grazed the doctor’s shoulder. She turned and winced in pain, clutching her arm. She manically laughed as she turned back to face the two of us.

“We could have been so good together, Doctor O’Dame! Could you imagine what this thing could do? No more war! No more guns or hidden bombs! This creature could have created world peace!” She broadly gestured, as if making an award-winning speech.

“Or started a dog fight where everyone loses.” I grimaced, slowly being crushed by Hyke.

“There will always be winners and losers!” She began walking toward us, “It’s up to us to decide which side of history we’re going to be on.” She crouched down low, so that she and I were face to face. “Too bad neither of you will be there to see it.”

She placed the barrel of the gun to my forehead.

In that instant, Hyke used his last bit of strength to grab Doctor Braver in his jaw and snap her in two. She didn’t even have time to scream, but the sound of her broken bones and shredded muscles rang in our ears.

Hyke tossed her to the side, and laid back down on top of me.

“Justin, I'm so sorry. I thought I could get us out of this. I thought I could save you.” I said through tears. “Maybe I still can.”

I rifled through his fur to find where the bullet pierced his skin. I followed the trail of blood to find the hole, and as carefully as I could, tried to find the lodged bullet. Compared to Hyke’s massive size, my fingers were like tweezers.

When I finally managed to pull the bullet out, I tossed it to the side, but not before it left a lime green residue on my fingers.

“I can reverse engineer a cure. Just…just hold on please!” I screamed to the empty room for help. “I need a doctor! Please! Somebody help him!” But no one came.

Hyke stirred slightly, wincing in pain.

“Harley,” he moaned. “Justin…l-l-love…Harley. Hyke…love…Harley.”

“No. Please. I just got you back. Don’t go.” I said tears streaming down my face.

In my arms, Hyke began to shift and shake. His paws turned back into feet and hands, his fur began to fall off, and his facial features began to look more human. As Hyke convulsed, his massive collar and chains fell to the ground next to him, causing a loud crash of metal on the concrete.

“Hyke? What’s happening?” I said backing away.

Hyke continued to convulse, and he grew smaller and smaller, until he was fully human and a bloody mess on the floor.

I crawled back over to him, and lifted his body onto my lap. I brushed some hair away from his closed eyes, but recognized him still.

“Hyke?...Justin?”

Whoever this was, I was now crying into his chest.

“Hey beautiful,” came a voice that I finally recognized.

“Justin?”

“Yeah,” he assured me in a raspy, pained voice. “It’s me.”

I pulled him close and let out a sigh of relief. He groaned from the pain.

I frantically apologized, then asked “So, you’re going to be okay right? You can come home?”

He looked at me with the kindest eyes, and I knew then that I wouldn’t like the answer to my question.

“Siena,” he wiped a tear from my eye, “you are my home.”

“No. No, it can’t end like this. We can’t end like this! I can’t lose you again! I can help you. I can fix this!”

“Stop. Siena, please…stop.” He kissed me gently, “Siena, you could never truly lose me.” Then, with his dying breath said, “I love you, my beautiful Siena. Forever and always.”

[nitrofuelconsumer]

adding onto this (from a post rotting in my drafts lmao)

i think if someone wanted to date AM they would have to already be aware of his full behavior and understand exactly what they are getting into because something tells me he would also be extremely jealous and possibly manipulative (things they would have to work hard with him to stop)

like if a s/o wanted to date him, they would have to teach him so many things like boundaries (just as you mentioned in your post) and so much more like how to be in a healthy relationship and how to be a normal person.

but let's not forget that they would have to support him with his mental illness/es, especially because getting a doctor is NOT an option, they would need a literal scientist or engineer for that shit.

being in a relationship with AM would be incredibly time-consuming, probably really draining on top of being something that the s/o would have to literally WANT and be MOTIVATED to work for.

NONE of these are things that will come instantly or asap. this would take years of development to basically reconstruct his entire worldview and way of living. i think the s/o in question should first establish some kind of friendship where they are already working with him, preferably be a scientist/engineer working with computers and ai (as you already mentioned) and only THEN could they have a chance of having a proper relationship with him.

but then again it's so sad cuz bro just wants to be loved but he is so aggressive and just pushes everyone away.

btw op u really took some words straight out of my mouth damn LMAO anyways yeah thats my thoughts

ramblings about AM in a relationship/what kind of s/o could fix him. know that im def not a person who’s deep into psychoanalysis / staying strict to a character’s personality so this might be ooc??? idk please bear w me. Whole thing is under the cut bc i think it’s pretty long n p sloppy 2. but enjoy regardless

anyways I rlly like to think that AM would most thrive in a relationship where he has equal / lesser power to his partner. not like whole ass power imbalance obv but just whre cant always hurt/bother his s/o. I’m sure AM would probably say some shit that might hurt his s/o’s feelings but a partner he’d be most compatible w/ would most likely avoid the torture mostly or altogether w/ the exception of verbal harassment cause there’s enough 2 go around 4 everyone. Also bonus points to s/os who are completely untouchable either bc they’re stronger than AM or AM decides that he doesn’t want to hurt them/can’t bring himself to.

also maybe he’d do well w someone who challenges his beliefs. tbh I feel like he’d gravitate towards people who might share his beliefs/hatred towards humanity, but if he’s supposed to grow then he’s gotta have a s/o that views humanity differently. Said s/o doesn’t even have 2 have a strictly polar opposite view on humanity, just a view that isn’t nihilistic and misanthropic. He might not be entirely receptive at first either but the further you continue to challenge his beliefs, the more likely he is to start thinking about other ideas.

Another thing that might make AM a little more accepting towards humans is a s/o that he *has* to rely on one way or another. most likely this is going to be an engineer/programming s/o. He’s likely not going to want to, but him knowing that he can rely on someone else might make him not close himself off as often.

artistic s/os might be able to help soften AM up a little too. i sometimes like 2 think that AM would actually really enjoy art, but it just depends on which kind of art. Realism he won’t really gaf about but he might gravitate towards expressionist works, along with abstract/absurdist and surreal art. this would include all art forms btw not just drawing and painting. reason for thinking he might like abstract over realism is bc realism is too ‘real’ (whatever yall think that would mean) for his liking / represents what he hates most about humanity. Abstract artwork also represents parts he hates ab humanity but it also gives him a physical representation of the things he lacks (ie expressionism w/ feelings/emotions, surrealism with the subconscious thought, etc etc) and might be the closest thing he can get to actually feeling/having senses

AM would most likely benefit from a s/o who is willing to “give” him sensation, whether it be literally by creating him a whole ass nervous + cognitive system that allowed him to have senses and feelings or even just a s/o who is willing to help him understand how certain things feel. This could be by the s/o describing how emotions feel through imagery, creating art w/ AM or *for* AM if he is unable to for whatever reason, etc. it won’t be exactly what he want ofc, but he might not be entirely bitter ab it.

I don’t think AM necessarily needs an android body to show love, but it would help :3c. Even if he still doesn’t have senses for whatever reason, it would absolutely still help him show his love towards his s/o through physical touch. W/o senses, just having his circuit’s warmed by his s/o (if they’re a human) is… well it’s not *enough* but it’ll do. And if he happens to have senses in his android body man he’s gonna be attached 2 u like lice on a healthy head of hair. he WOULD be touch starved.

Which brings me onto my next point. A s/o that can handle his “””affectionate”””side. I rlly feel like his perception of affection might be a little off (super off actually) and likely a little violent/aggressive. It’ll almost be like him having cuteness aggression towards a s/o and acting out on impulse. This might occur in squeezing, pulling and tugging and Android AM may bite and scratch/restrain. Also I when I mean “handle” I don’t exactly mean endure and ignore/accept. again this leads me to another point

A s/o that is able to set boundaries w/ AM is a must. I genuinely don’t think that any relationship w AM will go good if the s/o he’s with can’t put in place proper boundaries. For human s/os, this would be especially important as he might get aggressive physically (whether it’s due to like. him JST absolutely hating ur ass or him getting that ‘cuteness aggressive’ thing I just mentioned previously. note that it’s not rlly like cuteness aggression but he might be like ‘hm I’ll show my love to my s/o thru the only way I know. Violence”).

ok well I think this is all 4 now. if anyone wants 2 add onto it I’d luv 2 hear yalls input if yall had any :3c. I hope u guys atleast got some entertainment value out of this?? Either way i hope yallve enjoyed my ramblings

[thegrandlinesimp]

Hi again! Thanks for replying to so quickly and explaining things! =) I read the rules and adjusted to it (it's not like there's a lack of OP characters I like :D). Would you maybe want to do HC for Kid and Zoro with a female S/O that is a scientist, wears glasses and while she's far from having a strength matching theirs, she instead uses speed and smarts to her advantage (in fights and daily life). Both SFW and NSFW would be interesting to me, I don't mind which. In case you would want to go a NSFW route, may I request the inclusion of creampie? I'm not sure how detailed or rough requests should be to be better, please just let me know! =) Thanks again for being so nice!

I tried so hard with this one, been mulling over it three days and I just couldn’t get Zoro’s to work??? Like, I had 4% of an idea but didn’t know where to go with that, the only reason I was able to do Kid’s is because I have an OC (old dude though) who’s the Kid pirate’s doctor but is more of an all-round mad scientist, snipped a few concepts off that and yeah...

Sorry I wasn’t able to do it all, I really tried with NSFW, but I just couldn’t see the boys treating their s/o differently in bed just cause she’s a scientist (apart from Kid making the odd explosive joke, you’ll see why) that and you don’t have your age anywhere on your blog so I didn’t feel comfortable filling an NSFW ask without knowing it.

TLDR; you had a lot of detail but not where it really counted?

Also, this is like the second time I’ve done the whole “this is how you two guys got together” thing without being asked to??? I like story building 😅

Anyway I hope this isn’t too much of a train wreck for what it’s worth.

Kid with a Scientist Fem!S/O

(S/O’s scientific field - chemical warfare and explosives)

At first Kid wasn’t too keen on meeting this person Killer said would be great on the crew, some chick scientist? What’s so great about staring at colourful water in a flask (unless it involves metal he knows nothing about science)

But his ears perked up at the word “explosives”.

…scientists can make bombs?

The moment he met you he was secretly smitten, hair up in a tight bun, white lab coat hugging your curves and those. Damn. Glasses.

The way you looked at him over the rim of your glasses, that stern, unimpressed look as you raised an eyebrow as if to say to Killer “this is your incredible Captain?”

Man was simping hard

Having no where to really set up a proper lab, Eustass “help-me-this-woman-is-maddeningly-hot-and-ten-thousand-times-smarter-than-me” Kid was more than happy to have the back half of his overly large workshop converted into a suitable workspace for you

Whenever the two were working on your own projects in there he kept asking you what you thought of what he was making

Dude was not subtle about his crush

But it all came to a head when he thought “fuck it” and left about a dozen of these on your lab table

And what himbo loving woman could say no to that?

He’s surprisingly grateful for having you on the crew, despite specialising in chemical warfare and explosives, since you joined there’ve been fewer battle-induced injuries throughout the crew

That’s thanks to your “cannonball-bomb”, an explosive that can just survive the propelling blast of being shot from a cannon, but is just damaged and intact enough that when struck/it hits the ground, it explodes

10x more devastating than a normal cannonball, not just because of the explosion, but the shrapnel from the metal casing too

Takes out way more enemies at a safe distance, leading to an easier fight once they disembark the ship

Not too easy though, due to the amount of resources needed to make the weapons and Kid wanting a challenge

Marine ships have been given the order to steer clear due to this unless a Devil User is amongst the crew

Kid was pissed before finding out why the crew hadn’t run into a lot of marine ships

Massive ego boost for him, he’s dating a woman who scared the entire Naval fleet off

The future Pirate King’s Queen is already making a name for herself without his help and he couldn’t be more proud

You also make tiny bombs that can fuck up locks when pushed into keyholes, meaning the crew suddenly has the option for stealth

Not that Kid often takes it

The two of you have made several projects weapons together

You both agree your favourite is the “exploding mouse”, a little metal windup mouse that - once the windup key has finished turning - explodes

Kid likes to use slightly rusty metal for the wheels so it actually squeaks when it moves, it’s a great distraction for those rare times Kid (read: Killer) wants to be stealthy

A mini explosion version has been used more than once to prank crew members

Killer was your first victim, the poor man nearly pissed himself cause he picked up the mouse before the key stopped turning, luckily he was cooking in the kitchen and was wearing an oven glove

The glove has thankfully been the only casualty of your pranks

You and Killer pranked your boyfriend once with the mouse bomb

After that pranks were banned

[raisengen]

Quick summary of Earthspirit's operator record, because I know 99.5% of you won't E2 her (for a good reason, she’s quite possibly the weakest operator in the game):

We open on Provence dropping in on Earthspirit (ES) and finding she’s teaching Eyjafjalla (or Adele, as ES calls her) to play the piano on her miniature pipe organ. Eyja is making good progress off her natural talent. As a Lethanian, ES prefers this as a downtime activity, and might take more students in the future. She notes also that musical education is prestigious but hard to come by in Leithanian Infected ghettoes, so this should help Eyja hide her status if she returns to Leithanien.

Provence remembers why she’s here, and dumps a bunch of urgent analysis work on ES, courtesy of the Doctor (or “that jackass”, as ES calls them). ES complains that RI hasn’t enough geologists and no geology lab to make this doable in the timeframe given. However, when Eyja offers to help she immediately declines.

ES instead tells her to rest up for her upcoming mission, just like she’d told her she needed a break from piano practice. ES will get some rest too – what about all the work?, asks Provence. ES says that rest and entertainment are important for giving 100%, all the more so for research work where a tired worker could go in circles for days on a problem that would take half an hour with a clear head.

Well since ES has that all under control, Provence dumps more work on her, this time her own Catastrophe Messenger (CM) work. ES grumbles some more, complaining that she only ever sees Provence for work.

Provence says this is one of those times, as she’s still got work to do herself and starts to leave. ES asks if she has any requests:

Eyja queries

why

you’d want an illegible report, and Provence explains this is mainly an ass-covering exercise for CMs. Rather than taking all the responsibility of the call on whether or not a city should relocate to avoid a catastrophe upon themselves, they can present reports commissioned from scientists as supporting evidence; the actual content is less important, as long as it’s proper.

As ES grumbles about her workload some more, it is revealed that it was ES that originally suggested this strategy to Provence in the first place. ES explains that she doesn’t want anyone else to repeat the tragedy of Professor Bachmann the Wise, Earthspirit’s mentor and the person she looks up to the most.

Bachmann was primarily a scholar and musician, but also did a little work as a CM. She was commissioned by a noble to assess whether a Catastrophe would occur, and they demanded an explicit yes/no answer. Known for her caution, and not known for her political nous, Bachmann made the call that they should evacuate the citizens. However, predictions are only best guesses, and the Catastrophe never emerged. When the citizens returned they found their crops ruined from neglect – famine. As the nobles collected what little was left, they made sure to scapegoat (npi) Bachmann, putting all the blame on her calling it wrong. As a result, the citizens formed an angry mob and burned Bachmann to death what the fuck?? Earthspirit are you OK? Have you talked to someone about this?

Damn. Well.

As a result, ES is providing this service to CMs so they aren’t forced to shoulder all the responsibility alone, a burden that breaks more than a few of them. But no, she tells Eyja, this isn’t the reason why she likes geology. It’s not that geology lets her help others, it’s that geology helped her in the first place.

Earthspirit was a smart kid, the sort that reads lots of books and is ahead of the curve in school: in this case on basic Arts and theory. Her parents pinned a lot of their hopes on her progress, but ES explains that unlike Eyja, she found she had no talent when it came to actually using more complex Arts.

She skirts around the topic, but it seems like hitting this wall as a university student with all that pressure on her really did not go well. It was in Bachmann’s geology lessons that she found solace, as she could make progress here on academic understanding alone. Her progress in geology helped her drag herself out of depression, and she could now see a future for herself.

Provence disses geology but ES doesn’t take the bait, and instead talks about how to her it is an endless library that tells the story of every land she can visit. A library that sometimes whispers to her, but let’s not worry about that. Eyja chimes in that lab work and reports isn’t really geology to ES, what she really enjoys is field work (she’s been using her field kit as a makeshift lab in RI). ES is where she is needed, but not where whe wants to be. Come to think of it, she’s been getting more and more requests from CMs she barely knows…

Ah, you see! I, Provence, have been spreading word of how good you are! An excellent geologist and a great Catastrophe Messenger, you know what’s needed from both sides! You’re a legend! “The Master of Fraktur”, they call you! Everyone wants your services! You– hm actually looking at your face reminds me I need to go take a shower quick OKbye–

We close on Provence fleeing for her life as Earthspirit limps after her (leg cramps? It’s not entirely clear) and Eyjafjalla offers to “hunt her down” in her stead, to exact vengeance for all that extra work…

[snailsdraw]

[Start ID: Screenshot of tumblr users joyflameball's and manoscience's comments reading "YES" and "i'd be interested!" respectively. /End ID.]

Alright, you've spoken (anything in brackets is an action and not part of the line)

Darnold lines in HLVRAI:

Hmm, hmm, let's see…19…20…21…22…23 unique flavours! Oohooooohoohoo, I can't wait to show them this.

What?

Hey!

Uh…alright?

I've been here for uhhh…been here for about 3 days!

I'm Darnold.

Darnold.

It can be!

Hey…hey, hey, hey! You gotta step away from my research! This is not soda. This is not a fine wine, I know what it says. This is not milk. I, am, in charge of the Mixology department.

Oh, the Cybernetics… (waiting for Coomer to finish speaking) Cybernetics Department? Uhh…they WERE here! THEY got their funding cut after their…ill-fated cybermutt project.

Ooh! Your hand's missing! What happened?

Ooh…is that, is that some, is that some GREEN in there I see? That's…that's not good. Cybernetics won't help you there.

That's…are you, are you a- still alive?

Well…y'know…y'know, I- I don't, that (makes this short concerned/at-a-loss sigh noise) how long have you had that off?

Ooh…

Studies show that the longest you can live without your hand is 1 day and 4 hours. I think we need to help ya out!

But- (waits for Gordon to finish speaking) mm, yeah! Don't y' know this? You're a scientist, aren't you? This is what they teach you in… (waits for Gordon to finish speaking again) this is what they teach you in EVERY doctorate. It's part of every PhD!

BeCAUSE, because I'll TELL you, I have been working on a top-secret project. (turns around to look at the barrel of potion in the corner of the room behind him) Potion.

The Powera- yes, a potion.

This…(starting to sound peeved) what do you think Mixology is, huh? What do you think Mixology is, Mr- I don't know what your name is.

Can you seed that for me please?

E- Well, anyways. Alright, keep- run that 3 times.

Uh. So. ANYways. Dr Freeman, you've dis- (Gordon interrupts briefly) you've disrespected my potions, which I DON'T like. However, a scientist- (Gordon overlaps) a scientist can't just live- (Gordon ends overlapping) oh- a scientist can't live happily knowing that somebody's had their hand off for a day and 3 hours. So, this is what I'm going to do. I'm gonna make use of my top-secret, government-funded, extreme, delicious potion. I'm gonna give you some, BECAUSE, it has, secret regenerative properties UNKNOWN to man.

Please don't sit on the potion.

Uhh…! Y' kn- y' knocked the damn potion! Over.

Alright- well, it's sideways.

Ye- yes! Uh- well, yes.

Y'see, I tried to put it in some beakers, I TRIED to put it in beakers, but I only had. 3. And they all melted when I… put the potions in them…But this is okay!

So… (Science Team overlaps) so, I'll just hold- (stares at Bubby who's sitting on the potion barrel in silence)

So- (interrupted by Gordon) luckily- LUCKily I've specifically designed this potion to ONLY violently expl*de after you sit on it 10 times.

Yes.

Yes, so, y'have- y'have to, you HAVE to drink the entire thing. Now, I'm holding it at the proper potion-sipping angle. So, just break out your Black Mesa official silly straw and get to slurpin', okay?

It's BROWN flavour.

Well…how d'you drink?

Okay, okay, so at the VERY least you have a mouth. We can work with this, we can work with this- here. I'm holdin' it, I'm still holdin' it at the proper angle. Now just put your mouth on it, aaand, get to, suckin'.

Whut?

Chug! Chug!

You're gettin' it in there! Oh!

The potion is working!

See? Look at 'im! It's…it's, it's definitely goin', it's- it's only supposed to taste like brown!

I don't- (nervous) it's only supposed to taste like brow- BROWN! What is the green? What does that taste like??

Ooh- uh- d-does he normally look like that?

Is he okay? Does he normally look like this?

(intrigue and concern) Ooh… (disturbed) ooh…

Well- I don't- uh, we've only tested this on. A mouse.

It's- brown is supposed to taste good!

Is- isn't that what your hand looked like before?

Uhh…well, uh. I guess, mm…well, that's why it's still top-secret.

(with Gordon panicking and overlapping) Well…uh…whud…it looks like, uh…it looks like some tubes…?

Well, I dunno- maybe- we, we shouldn't be letting this, STOP you. We should just treat this like a hand, right? So let's do some, uhh…let's do some uhhh physical therapy to get you used to your new hand.

Can you try, uhh, just uh… squeezin' your hand and making a… punch?

Wuh- THAT one. This is your new hand.

Try it!

Ahhh, I see, I see. This really IS just like your hand! You just, uhh, did…you just fired your fingernails from your fingertips, as people normally do.

Wow…I've increased your fingernail effectiveness by ten-thousand percent!

Hmm…y'know- hmm- I feel like there should be…I feel like there should be MORE to this. I mean, hands can do MORE than shoot their fingernails, uh…so what could be missing? What could be missing? Mm…

Well uh, Dr Freeman, I'm feelin' like, I'm feelin' like there's, something missing but, I'm notquitesure- PRESS ALL BUTTONS TO ACTIVATE DEVIL GUN MODE!!!

Mmm…I don't- mmm…what does what mean?

Buttons? What, what- that one?

Well, I mean. What're talkin' about buttons?

Ooh. You downloaded, you downloaded the Pyro update- delete that. Really- delete that right fckin' now.

Oh no. They've put potions on my computer.

(Tommy asks what the next flavour of powerade is) Whut? (Tommy repeats louder over Gordon's firings) Mmm…welll, I SHOULDN'T tell you this, but, we're working on an evil flavour.

But- anyways, that's, that's not important right now, Dr Freeman. What IS important is that I can't use my computer anymore, and so I can't do ANY more research.

It looks like I'm gonna have tuh…actually, where're you guys goin'?

The Lambda Lab? Oh, THAT'S fun.

Well- (Gordon asks him if he knows what's happened in Black Mesa) - no! There's no, button, for the lift, down here.

(asked if he's shot a gun before) Uhh…HMm…once or twice. Or maybe 19.

Well…well, k*lling can't be THAT hard, right?

Anyways, I think, that…I think that this might be, a bit of a dangerous journey. But, it's a journey worth taking. I believe I will come along.

Here! I have 2 crates filled with. Mystery gadgets if you want to take a look! I don't know if any of them are good. I didn't look.

(about the milk/cholorox on the floor that Benrey passed to Gordon) Oh, that's just the almond milk.

(on Gordon saying that now Darnold is the new Bubby since Bubby disappeared) I-

Wow! I can't BELIEVE I never opened that box.

Was it [this was unintelligable. tee???] when you all came down?

That's not mine.

Ooh, yes. This sounds like good fun with good buddies.

(asked if he needs a gun) Uh…let's see here…Dr Freeman, will this suffice?

Well. Well, honestly I. I. Be- I don't really have any idea, I just have an intuition that IF YOUR BODY IS NOT STRONG ENOUGH, YOU WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO ACTIVATE DEVIL GUN MODE!!!…I just, I just don't know…!

gonna reblog again and continue cuz we hit the word limit

hey, anyone interested in what i think might be the full list of darnold's lines from hlvrai minus bank heist?