#and howdy is SO DONE w him hes so tired

[akemima]

Canon howdys such a bitch i love him

[2knightt]

Howdy knight in shimmering armor!! :DDD it is moi~ & I come humbly presenting my req ✨🥹

So. 👏🏼 We've heard of motherly!reader, right? And we got motherly!reader. We've heard of sister!reader, and we got sister!reader.

Now get ready forrrrr *🥁🥁🥁* daughter!reader! 🩷💫

can I get some hcs for our Sodapop with a daughter/daughter!reader? I feel like he'd be such a sweet and loving parent aaaa 😭😭 whether biological or adopted it's entirely up to you, darlin'! I just live for the sweet fluff; my brain is stuck on Darry and Pony and the rest of the Greasers as uncles akshdj it's driving me up a walllllll.

uncle/godfather (!!! 😱😭🩷) Steve—maybe her taking an interest in cars or working at the DX when she gets older?? or not and somethin' else has her best interests at heart!! but everybody loves and dotes on her endlessly still bc she's their princess UGH the potential is insanity.

Work your magic, firefly!! If it's what'chur into, I'd love to see whatcha got for me! 😚 If not, then don't worry a thing at all, m'kay? <33 Entirely up to you!

↳tell the angels no!₊˚✧

➬ sodapop curtis x daughter!reader

a/n; THERES MY FAVOURITE PERSON EVERRR!!! HIIIIII!!!! ALSO I MADE READER LIKE IN THE RANGE OF A PRETEEN..BUT I MADE IT PRETTY VAGUE ON THE AGE..SAUR.

you’re sodapop’s biological child, and he couldn’t be happier omfg.

he’s such a good dad :(.

he legit can’t say no to you so you can get away with literally anything.

you punch a kid because they were annoying you?

“aw, it’s okay. i bet she didn’t mean it.”

“your daughter punched the child 3 times in a row.”

“just like i taught her!”

you get caught stealing?

“just ask for money! or take some from uncle steve.”

if you ever tell him you have a crush on a kid, he’s telling everyone. shouting it in the streets fr.

“who is he? is he cute? is he nice? rich?”

“papa!!”

and if the gang finds out?? good luck.

“what? you’re way too young to even to be thinking about boys!”

“yeah, what uncle two-bit said!”

“guys she’s a child. let her explore.”

“shut up ponyboy, this is y/n we’re talking about.”

do NOT ask sodapop for help with any of your work.

as soon as your done with adding, it’s ponyboys problem.

each person in the gang probably has their own job or role in your life.

johnny is the uncle you go to for peace and quiet.

“johnny-uhh…let’s go to the lot!! i’m tired of this house.”

“alright, kiddo. go tell your dad where you’re going.”

johnny’s jealous that you have a better childhood than he ever had, but he’s happy that it’s you getting the best childhood you can possibly get.

ponyboy’s the one you go to for academic help, or just..help in general.

“uncle pony, what’s 12 x 2?”

“what’s 12 + 12?”

“24?”

“there’s your answer.”

two-bits the uncle you go to when you’ve had a bad day. he does ANYTHING to make you laugh.

he’ll tell you any story about anyone to make you smile with tears still in your eyes.

“w-well what about dad?”

“OH! your dad used to work at this gas station, the DX, right? and one day a guy came in to rob the place, grabbed the drinks, chocolate bars, everything and just RAN! so your father ran after him but he tripped and took the guy down with him! i swear he was the same shade as a tomato when the story came out!”

“really?”

you asked, in between laughs.

steves the uncle you go to for…literally everything.

you’re probably his favourite person so…he’s ‘round you a lot.

“uncle steve, i’m trying to go to school!”

“schools for losers.”

“uncle?!”

“but don’t drop out. drop out and i kill ya.”

darry is the one you go to for actual advice and a shoulder to lean on.

you probably call him grandpa for the laughs.

“an-and i just don’t know what to do, pa! it’s so..UGH!”

“just breath, y/n. you’re a strong young girl. you can make it, like you always do.”

dallas is the uncle you go to for actual fun.

he let’s you get away with anything and everything.

he might even be worse than your dad.

“can i have a cigarette?”

“just don’t tell anyone, kay? i ain’t tryna get the tar beatin’ outta me.”

i like to think that steve’s car work was acknowledged and he moved into a better paying job.

so if you show the slightest bit of interest into cars, he’s bringing you into work on the weekends.

“pop the hood, y/n.”

“sir yes sir!”

they’d be so loving but so annoying with you omfg.

they will barge into your room without asking.

“HEY Y/N!”

“TWO-BIT, WHAT DO YOU WANT?!”

“that’s no way to talk to your uncle.”

“so?? get out! i’m trying to play something.”

they all come into your room and drag you out to the dingo.

OMFG IMAGINE THEM PICKING YOU UP FOR SCHOOL IT’D BE SO EMBARRASSING.

sodapops driving, it’s his car, two-bit and steve are fighting across the seats, johnny and ponyboy and talking over the shouting, dallas is blasting music while darry tells everyone to behave.

all that while you stand infront of school, infront of everyone, as they shout your name out loud.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N GET IN!”

“HURRY UP PLEASE”

“i don’t know who these guys are…must be another y/n.”

“Y/N CURTIS. GET IN HERE NOW!”

“ah, shit.”

“WHAT WAS THAT, YOUNG LADY?”

“nothinguhh!!”

10/10 experience overall, would sell my first born to experience this.

may 27th, 2023. 4:41PM.

[ketho484]

Chapter six, let's GOOOOOOO!!!

Warning: The next few chapters are gonna get dark, including descriptions of death, crazy angst, mentions of harming, and more. Discretion is advised

Au belongs to @frillsand

📰📰📰📰📰📰📰📰📰📰📰📰📰📰📰📰📰

Chapter 6: Revelations

Summer came and went too quickly for everyone’s liking. The Welcome Home cast liked having days off when the air conditioning broke, Willow liked doing fun things with everyone. It was nice while it lasted. Autumn soon came, the air as crisp and cool as a refrigerated apple. Willow was still smiling as much as possible, though she took her new rabbit plush everywhere with her. Knowing Wally could watch her and help her feel safe was a feeling she didn’t want to go without. Speaking of Wally, he was getting worried. Every night after taking Willow home, Wally had to watch and listen to what happened to her. He heard shouting, smashing glass, crying, hitting. He never saw it with Willow, but there were some nights she had to leave the rabbit in her room. Sometimes she came back with bruises, which she chalked up to being clumsy. Other times, she didn’t come back until morning. It scared Wally to see her like that. Eventually, he just couldn’t take it. He’d vowed the first day she showed him her home life that he would rescue her, but he needed help…He needed his friends.

Jessica had texted that Willow wouldn’t make it to the studio for a little while as she was sick, so she said, so Wally took the tablet with him to work. Barnaby greeted him at the door, as per usual, but noticed the dark look in his eyes. Wally gathered his friends and had them meet in the conference room before shooting for a quick cast meeting.

“Wally, is something wrong?” Poppy asked timidly “You seem a bit…tense”

“That’s one way to put it” Wally said as he hooked up the tablet to the room’s projector, letting them see what was on camera

The bunny was seeing Willow working in the sewing room again, which already had poor conditions. It made the others sick to their stomachs to see Willow sewing the costumes for the upcoming halloween special. She looked a bit sickly, tired and weak. They could hear her mother and father screaming at each other in the background, Eric saying that the cast were putting ideas into Willow’s head and that they think she’s a good way to improve their skills and Jessica saying they were giving her some much needed freedom, something Eric wasn’t letting her have. It sounded like glass was being broken, like the parents were stomping around, and every time it got Louder, Willow would flinch. The worst of it was that Willow was wearing a thin white dress with no sleeves, which exposed her arms. They were covered in bruises, her wrists wrapped in bandages along with some spots on her arms. It was a horrifying scene, to say the least.

“…This cannot be Willow’s home, can it?” Frank asked, a slight hint of trembling in his voice

“I’m afraid it is” Wally said as he turned around “This is what Willow has to go through every waking moment when she’s not here”

“W-We should do something!” Barnaby spoke up, anger radiating off him “Pup doesn’t deserve this!”

“Bad idea, Barnaby” Poppy said anxiously “She lives in the suburbs. Not only is abuse not taken as seriously there, but Eric could probably pay his way out of jail”

“Poppy’s got a point” Howdy joined in “While I do think something should be done, we’ll need to wait for the moment to strike. We can’t risk Willow getting hurt”

“We have video evidence!” Eddie shouted, clearly distressed as Frank ran to help him calm down “We can just turn that in to the cops and they’ll take him away!”

While everyone started arguing back and forth about what to do, Wally groaned and left the room to get some quiet. It hurt to see his friends fight, and while he did agree that something needed to be done, he was scared something would happen to Willow. He couldn’t risk her getting hurt, or worse…He couldn’t lose someone else, not someone who felt close enough to be family to him. Sure, he loved his friends, but…Willow was practically his baby sister. He can’t let her suffer anymore.

Before Wally could go back inside, he got a text, so he opened his phone. It was from Jessica. She wanted to meet him in the park, and she told him to find her on a bench wearing a black coat and a fedora. He was confused, but it seemed important. Wally sighed and went back in, breaking up the commotion. They’d all figure out a plan, but the director was waiting for them .To say that shooting that day was a bit rough would be an enormous understatement. Nobody could concentrate on their lines or their roles now that the cast knew Willow was being abused. When shooting was over, the cast all agreed to start formulating ideas tonight. They’d regroup tomorrow before shooting, just like today.

Wally looked at the tablet while in the PlayFellow Studio parking lot. Willow was getting yelled at for falling asleep at her sewing desk. She was clearly getting sick! She needed to rest! Wally was going to scream at him through the microphone, but then he remembered Jessica wanting to meet with him. He drove to the park, making sure to turn the tablet off, and started looking around. Jessica was sitting on a bench near the playground, fingers drumming a brief case she had on her lap as she looked around for the puppet. She was clearly nervous.

“Jessica” Wally called quietly as he approached the woman

“You’re here!” She said, sounding relieved as she got up and pulled him to the bench, sitting him down “I…I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you here”

Wally gave her a nod

“…Listen, Your mother, Linda, and I were really good friends when you were little” She explained “She was an amazing person and I don’t want her family getting hurt”

“I know you knew my mom, but I don’t know where this is going” Wally said calmly before the briefcase was placed into his lap

“You want to save Willow, right?” Jessica spoke. Wally was going to speak, but she cut him off “I’ve been aware of the nanny cams in the bunny for some time now”

Wally sighed and just answered her question with a nod

“Inside this case is the evidence you’ll need to get her away from Eric for good” She said before a look of fear came to her face “However, for your safety as well as her’s, take it home before you open it, okay?”

“Why?”

“Eric is crafty. If he finds us, he’ll know what’s in that case. That’s why you need to take it home” She explained before getting up and running to her car

Wally was confused, but per Jessica’s wish, he took the briefcase home. He drove back to the manor and turned the tablet on. Willow was trying to fall asleep, so Wally sang to her to help comfort her until she did fall asleep. He muted the mics on both sides before opening the briefcase, his hands shaking a bit as he did.

The first thing he saw in the case was a letter in his mother’s handwriting. It was a letter to Jessica. It outlined how she was, that this baby would be a big surprise for Wally when she got home. Baby? What baby? There was more in there, all eluding to a baby. Doctor’s reports, ultrasounds, dietary plans, a hospital bill that Jessica must’ve paid off, and even DNA tests from two weeks before Willow met Wally and the cast. The item at the bottom was what broke him, though. It was a birth certificate…for Willow.

Willow Darling

d/o/b: 05/01

Mother: Linda Darling

Father: Peter Darling

Brother: Wallace Darling

This thing was dated on the same day his parents died. According to the police report, someone crashed into their car, killing them both. The nut job responsible then stole something from the back of the car and booked it. Was…Was that something a baby and all the things that went with it? Did someone steal his baby sister? If so, how did Eric get a hold of her!? All of these questions made Wally’s head hurt as he collapsed, burying his head into his bed as he broke down into tears. He was terrified. If Willow really was his little sister, why didn’t his mom say anything when he visited? Why was she taken from him!? WHY!!?

An hour passed before Wally calmed down. He grabbed the tablet and saw Willow was awake and looking into the eyes of the bunny, tears in her own. Wally wiped his face and turned on both the microphones.

“Is something wrong, Willow?” Wally asked calmly

“D-Daddy’s yelling really loud” Willow said quietly “He said all the stuff he had for me is gone”

“…Your mom gave it to me” Wally said “…Can I ask something serious?”

Willow nodded

“This may be a long shot, but…so you know what your birth parents looked like?”

“Yeah” Willow nodded “Mommy took me to the doctor about a month before she convinced daddy to let me meet you. The doctor says I don’t have childhood amnesia”

“So that’s what that report was” Wally said, remembering one of the doctor’s reports that was dated closely to the DNA test “Can you describe your real parents?”

“Well…My real mommy and daddy were both puppets with yellow felt skin. Mommy had pretty blue eyes and dark blue hair. The day I saw her, she wore it in a low ponytail that hung over her right shoulder. Daddy’s hair was light pink and he had black eyes. His smile was really really warm…” Willow described them in amazing detail…She described Wally’s parents perfectly. It explained a lot. Wally had his father’s looks and eyes, but his mother’s hair. Willow had his father’s eyes too along with his mother’s hair

“Do you know where they are?” Wally asked as calmly as he could

Willow looked scared as she heard a click on the door. Eric must have locked her in, something she explained was normal for her.

“…Dead” She finally said, looking down at her lap

“…Do you remember how they…?” Wally didn’t need to finish as Willow started to explain

“They were taking me home from the hospital on my birthday” She said “About halfway there, I think, someone crashed into us. I saw from the back seat in my baby carrier. The entire front of the car was crushed…Mommy’s head was nearly c-cut off and was dangling from the side…D-D-Daddy’s head was twisted by the wall of the car hitting him…His eyes were looking at me. When the motion stopped, I started crying out for help. E-Eric broke into the car and stole me away…I’ve been here ever since…”

Willow was in tears when she finished. Wally was seething with rage, his eyes shaking as he tried not to crush the tablet. He took a deep breath and spoke calmly to Willow so as not to scare her.

“Shhhhh, shhhhh, Willow. It’s gonna be okay” He said as she laid down and held the rabbit “I’ll make sure Eric never hurts you again, okay? I promise. I just need a bit more time. What I have is helpful, but I need more evidence in order to take him away. When that happens, I’m taking you home with me”

“R…Really?” She asked as she started wiping her face off screen

“Really. I promise you’ll be safe. I just need a little more time, okay?”

“…Okay…”

Wally smiled and sang his mother’s lullaby to her so she could sleep peacefully. Once he knew she was asleep, he shut off the tablet and gathered everything up, angry beyond belief. Eric Mathews had killed his parents…

…and had stolen his baby sister from him

[razorsharpteeth]

TIMING: A few days after the recent full moon PARTIES: Monty @howdy-cowpoke and Samir @razorsharpteeth LOCATION: Prickly Pears SUMMARY: Samir shows up at the farm for some per diem work. Monty immediately guesses the other is a werewolf and still lets him work. Farmwork is fun, but why is it only the animals that have heartbeats? CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

If he had a dollar for every man that turned up on his farm looking worse for wear, he'd have two dollars, which wasn't a lot but it was weird that it had happened twice. Three times, technically, if you counted both times Gael had shown up during a full moon. 

At least this one hadn't killed and eaten anything. Nor was he naked or disoriented, actually—he seemed perfectly cognizant and was here about the paying work, he just also looked a bit like he'd been put through the ringer. Which… was far closer to the truth than Monty realized as he gave the man a once-over, not particularly discreet about it though it seemed to come from a place of worry. 

He knew what time of the month it was. He also knew what a magnet he was for werewolves, so—

"Sí, you can have the per diem position," he agreed, hugging one arm to his midsection and letting the other elbow rest atop it, hand pressed gently to his own face. Concern etched lines in his features as he frowned, disliking the sight of some familiar would upon yet another undeserving visage. "But… are you… all right? Have the last two nights been, ah, unkind to you?" There was a beat. "I do not mean to pry, señor Zidan, I just… I am a worrier." He offered a small smile. "Humor me?"

—

Some fights were more lucrative than others. Some fights were easier on the body and soul. But not this full moon, this full moon Samir had woken in his cage aching and more tired than usual. His usual envelope had not held a lot of money. He’d huffed, but said no more, and gone home to seek an odd job. It wasn’t like he’d not done this before: he used to hold down jobs before, albeit never for long, and at those he returned to work after the full moons as well. He did not permit himself a break.

And sure, he looked worse for wear. There was a nasty stitch in his side. A bruise forming on his jaw. But it wasn’t too bad — he could open both his eyes, and there was no taste of iron in his mouth. He was capable enough, and besides, idle hands had to be avoided. He let the other watch, despite the crawling sensation it brought. Samir didn’t like to be witnessed. He hoped Razor didn’t mind as much.

“Great. I’ll be here tomorrow again? Whatever I can help with today …” He trailed off. He would be amused by being called señor Zidan if it wasn’t all so discomforting in the first place. There was an insinuation here, sat right between them. He clicked his tongue, shrugged. “I understand. I have the worrier gene too.” It was more of a learned trait, admittedly, unless it was something he’d gained from his late father. His mother didn’t have it, though, that was for certain. “I’m fine. If … what you are trying to hint at is an issue, I’d understand. I’ll get out of your hair right away.” Workplace discrimination was, perhaps, warranted in the case of shapeshifting monsters, right? “And you can call me Samir, please.”

—

He never knew if someone else knew what they were. He hadn’t, after all, not for a long time… and Gael didn’t, despite the circumstances. So he couldn’t assume much, but to someone who had befriended a number of werewolves, the signs were pretty obvious. 

“Oh!” Monty exclaimed, evidently horrified at the idea of having given the man—Samir—the wrong impression about his concern. “No, no, nothing like that! I—we—” He took a breath (that he didn’t need), stabilizing his thoughts after a beat and then shaking his head. “It’s no issue. I just want to make sure you are okay, that’s all. I have friends who are…” He let the sentence hang in the air before dropping to the dirt beneath their feet, figuring that some things could go unsaid, at least for now. If he was a werewolf, or a were… something else, there was a decent chance he’d realize that everyone on the farm lacked a heartbeat sooner rather than later. That is to say, once they were around other people. “Please. Follow me, we’ll need to speak with Daisy. I am sure she’ll have a list of chores that need doing—I can walk you through them.”

As the pair moved deeper into the property, the animals milling about their paddocks and creating a lovely ambient backdrop of bleats and whinnies, more and more hands seemed to crawl out of the woodwork. Perhaps they’d been there all along, or perhaps they’d simply been waiting for a signal from their boss that it was okay to resume work—he never wanted to compromise their safety, after all. 

—

There was a look of confusion on Samir’s face, as if the simple act of consideration was enough to make him question things. In a sense, it was — it was a strange and unbecoming thing to be faced with. He didn’t talk to many fellow supernaturals, let alone werewolves, and felt like there was something stained about them. He held judgment for his own nature: so why shouldn’t this farmer?

Instead, he questioned if he was okay. “Ah. No, I can assure you I’m fine. It might not … look exactly fine,” he said, gesturing at his face, the discoloration at his jaw in particular, “But I have taken care of it. I can assure you that I’ll still be capable of whatever you throw at me.” Painkillers helped. As did his masochistic tendency to bite through the pain and just do it, but such details were not really job-interview material. Or any kind of conversation, maybe — it wasn’t like Samir was self-aware enough to verbalize them. “The others you know, are they also in town? You don’t have to … tell me who they are, or anything, I’m not asking that. This all takes a certain level of confidentiality. I just don’t meet a lot of people like me.” He smiled, despite himself. He’d met the two other wolves at the Pit, but they hadn’t even exchanged their human names. Part of that was his own design. 

He moved in tandem with Monty, not sure if he liked that the other knew of his predicament. But he needed the cash, he’d made the drive and so he might as well stick it out for today. Besides, the other seemed kind, rather than disgusted. Still confusing, that. “Sounds all good. You’ve got a nice array of animals here.” Their scents mingled into one overwhelming thing and Samir let himself be distracted by it, the noise and smell of farm. That, too, was promising: if it was a lot on the mind as well as the body, he’d be tired enough to sleep at the end of a day.

—

Nodding in understanding as Samir insisted that he was fine, Monty figured he’d let it drop. For now, at least. But if the man came back looking for more work and with an even rougher appearance than he had now, there would be more questions, born purely of concern. “They are,” Monty said gently, offering a small smile of his own. “One of them has had many years to acclimate himself, the other… well. He is new to it. Learning. Accepting. It is a slow process.” 

“Ah, thank you! I am sure you will get to know them quite well, if you decide to come back,” Monty chuckled, leading the man up to the main house where a tall, dark-haired woman was standing on the porch, looking over a clipboard. Monty and Samir approached the steps and she looked up, flashing them both a bright grin. 

And, just like Monty, she distinctly lacked a heartbeat.

“Howdy there, friend!” she greeted Samir in a friendly, thick Southern accent, adjusting the hat on her brow before reaching out a hand to shake. “Name’s Daisy, but you can call me Dais if you’re feelin’ so inclined! Now, I hear you’re here for some work, huh? Just so happens, I got a nice long list of things I need done today while I go see a man about some sheep.” Monty smirked, giving Samir a look that said didn’t I tell you? before accepting the folded up piece of paper that Daisy pulled from her pocket. 

“Now, just get done what you can, and don’t forget to take your breaks! Monty here can show you the ropes, and make sure he doesn’t forget to write down your hours, okay? Gotta make sure ya’ll get paid.” She beamed. “Sound good?”

—

Acclimation, what did that look like? Samir had to wonder. Had he become an acclimated werewolf over the past years? It hardly felt like it — he only managed to cope now through ignorance and violence. Monetizing his monstrosity. It worked, in a sense, but it wasn’t honorable, nor pretty. “It is a slow process,” he said, “One I’m not sure ever ends. I hope he has good people to help him?” He definitely couldn’t offer his services on that front. Half a decade of transformations hadn’t made him any better at it.

He gave a nod and a smile at that statement, letting his heightened senses adjust to the pace of this place. All the animalistic scents, that earthy musk. The heartbeats that differed per animal. The lack of a human pace besides his own — but Samir chalked that up to fatigue, for now.

Lips spread in a polite smile at the sight of Daisy. “Hi Daisy.” There was a gesture to himself. “Samir. Good to hear. Don’t like any empty days, myself. Best to keep busy.” The list was handed from one farmer to another, and he nodded at Monty, wondering about the relative quiet in the air between the three of them. There were people like that at the Pit sometimes, but he never stayed around long enough to really question it. He shook off the thoughts for now. “Sure, all sounds good. Just give a shout if there’s anything I gotta know.” 

He turned to Monty, eyeing the list. “Alright. What’s on our to do list first?” 

—

“He does, I think. I am doing what I can for him, but of course I’m not… like him, so my perspective is not especially helpful. My friends, though, they are trying to help support, yes.” The conversation about the mystery friend died down as they approached Daisy, and once their list of tasks was given, Monty took a moment to read it over before giving Samir a nod. 

“Well, there are the daily things, firstly… the sheep need lunch.” There were other hands tending to the cows and goats and horses, but it was their task to make sure the herd of curly-haired sweethearts had their afternoon meal. “We’ve got roughage and hay for them in storage—come, I’ll show you.” 

The afternoon continued without a hitch, the pair fixing several stretches of fencing together after feeding the sheep. After that, it was bathtime for a few of the horses, and Jicama needed to be re-shod. They were of course surrounded by other farm hands doing other farm hand tasks, and if Samir chose to pay particular attention to any of it, he’d find that not a single one of them carried a heartbeat. The only living things on this farm were the animals. 

“Say, you must be getting hungry,” Monty remarked as he rolled up his farrier’s tools, setting them back on their shelf and unhooking Jicama’s lead to take her back out to pasture. He motioned for Samir to follow, flashing him a small grin as they fell into step beside one another. “If you are, I’m sure we can throw something together, unless you’d rather eat at home. But… I think we have gotten through the better part of Daisy’s list!” Just in time, too, because the sun was starting to sink very close to the horizon. 

—

Those wondering thoughts he’d tried to shake off before – about the silence, the lack of human heartbeats – returned to Samir throughout the day. The sheep’s hearts were busy things, pumping around blood through those fuzzy bodies of theirs, and the horses were steadier, but present all the same. It made sense, maybe. Why else would the farmer have known of his affliction? Perhaps he had something going on himself.

Samir did his work, though, without complaining. When his aching body shot a dagger of pain through him, he winced — but never long enough to draw attention, moving through the pains as if it was his own kind of penance. There was ample distraction. Working with ones hands had always been his preference, anyway.

To ask your newfound employer pressing questions seemed like a bad idea anyway, especially in this town. Samir chose relative ignorance and took what he saw and heard at face value and with that, came to the conclusion that Monty was, if anything, a kind man. He gave a grunt in response, followed it with a, “Yeah,” as he caught up to the farmer and his horse.

“Sure thing. Am not a bad cook myself, but if you want to, you can just keep whatever we use from my pay.” Grit Pit rules. Samir missed the family meals at former workplaces. “And hey, good to know. If there’s more stuff to be done tomorrow, though…” He shrugged, leaving the suggestion hanging in the air. He looked at the horse and her steady heartbeat as she moved back into the pasture. “They’ve got it good here, the animals.” He thought of the creatures in cages at his actual job. How his wolf-side would have devoured all those sheep rather than fed them. He blinked, looked back at Monty, “Can I ask you something?” He’d rather have it out, if he were to return.

—

Monty threw him a confused look, cocking his head to the side. “What? Oh, no... do not worry about that, mi amigo. The food is on us,” the cowboy assured him, waving away the idea of having Samir pay for it. “If you wish to cook, though, by all means! I am certainly not an expert when it comes to food,” Monty laughed. “Daisy will be able to help you more than I can.” The human food was all for guests anyway, it wasn't like anyone on the farm had a need for it. But they still kept it stocked, just in case. And now, judging by the man's offer to come back again the next day, they might finally have someone to regularly enjoy it. “Tomorrow? Well sure! There is always more to be done, and we will always happily accept help.” He smiled brightly at Samir. “You are welcome to come by for work any time!”

Gaze fixed on Jicama as she trotted back into the pasture, hands deftly locking the gate after her, Monty hummed. “Thank you,” he glanced back at Samir, giving a small shrug. “We do all we can to make sure they're well taken care of.” And then, there was a question.

“Of course! What is it?”

—

He was kind, in an effortless way that made Samir feel jealous, which in turn made him dislike himself just a bit more. “Alright, alright, if you’re sure. I’ll lend a hand, then,” he said, conceding. He’d bring something along as a thanks, then, next time. As the other ensured him that he could come back any time for work, he felt himself grow a little more slack with relief. He’d like to come back, he thought. Maybe not forever, but at least for a few days the coming week. It was a good distraction. Even if his body ached from the work and the fights. “Alright. I’ll be here same time tomorrow, then. Thanks.” He frowned, but decided not to linger too long on that slip-up.

The other was thanking him too, after all. If that meant anything. “It shows.” He gave a small smile in return, and then struggled to get to his question. The other had been forward about his own nature, had pointed out his lycanthropy easily and without much hesitation — so wasn’t he in a position to return the favor?

“I’ve noticed …” He swallowed. “Well, that your heart doesn’t beat. I’m — I’ve encountered it before, I know it’s something that exists.” Samir frowned, his shortcomings self-made. He didn’t ask questions at the Grit Pit, but Monty seemed like a better person to ask things of. “The animals, they all have heartbeats, but the people don’t. I guess my question is — how?” Though what the fuck? would also be fitting.

—

The gentle, easy smile that always seemed to be present on Monty’s face turned into something a little more pointed, corners of his eyes crinkling as he let out a breathy laugh. “Ah. I was wondering when you’d bring it up. All my werewolf friends eventually do.” Pleased to have it more out in the open now, the cowboy gave a quick glance around them—not to see if they were alone, but just as a way of generally taking in the space fondly. 

“We’re all dead—the hands and I. All… zombies.” The word still felt silly to say, but he wasn’t aware of a better alternative. Gesturing toward the cattle, goat, and sheep pastures in turn, he gave a nod. “That’s our main food source here. The goal of this place is not really selling dairy, though that is a happy byproduct of the work we do, but… it is more about keeping us fed.” He glanced back at Samir, brows furrowing. “Obviously the media has gotten many things about zombies, ah… what’s the word… miscon… misconstrued? But there is one fact they all seem to agree on, and that’s the brains of it all.” He shrugged. “Human, unfortunately, is the most nutritious we can get our hands on. But I’m doing my best to support these undead so they do not have to rely on that, to help keep them—and the people of this town—a little safer.” He clasped his hands, wringing them together for a moment before continuing. “I understand if this makes you feel wary about returning. No hard feelings. It is a shocking thing to realize.”

—

Zombies. It was almost laughable, but Samir had long ago lost the ability to see the humor in things. Even as his mind flashed to the video games he’d played and movies he’d watched with zombies, he understood Monty’s point not to go off them for reference. Eyebrows furrowed, staring at the dead man walking across from him, wondering what to make of it all. There was some trepidation, a natural response, but he knew above all that there was no space for him to judge. The wolf inside had chewed off limbs and devoured other bits of humans. Who was he to now grow distasteful of people who had to do the same to survive? Besides, Monty said they ate mostly animals. “Alright.” He shook his head at the offer that he’d might not want to return. “No, it’s — I understand, in a sense. Or at least, am not in any position to judge. It’s a good thing, I guess, what you’re doing. Keeping ‘em fed.” He supposed there was something about control in play there, which he related to more than he might like to admit. “We all have to find our ways of dealing with these things, right?” He, with his position at the Grit Pit. Monty, with the thing he had going on here. “But I appreciate you sharing. Best to have it all out in the open, huh?” Samir shrugged, clasped his hands together. “Dinner?”

[frostbittenbucky]

Bruce Wayne

The Batman

The Dark Knight

Worlds Greatest Detective

Had fucked up

Bruce Wayne isn’t a slob, he’s not lazy- he is the complete opposite of his persona “Brucie Wayne”, who is a lazy pampered prince. But Bruce Wayne? Never.

So after Bruce finishes a snack he washes his dishes like any civilized human would do- or else Alfred would have some very choice words and some very petty actions towards him. It’s a simple task, take off his rings, run the water, apply the soap, scrub then rinse.

Simple.

But someone tell Bruce how the hell he managed to drop his ring down the drain? And someone tell Bruce why the didn’t stop for a moment and think before shoving his hand down the drain?

He fucked up. Now he’s stuck. But Bruce Wayne is a genius, he can get himself out of this silly situation. So he tries pulling... and pulling... and pulling. Ok, next option, lubricant. Soap will do. So Bruce proceeds to pour a generous amount of soap around his hand, he moves it around to make sure it’s coated, then he pulls. And pulls. Ok so next move.

What’s the next move?

He groaned loudly, thinking how utterly ridiculous and stupid this situation is. “Ok... dammit,” he muttered to himself. He decided to reach for his phone and-

Shit. It’s on the kitchen island directly behind him, where it’s just out of his reach. Why did he do that? Oh right, because he got water in his speaker last time. Right. Perfect. Wonderful.

“Alfred?” He called out, “Alfred, Damian are you still here?” No response. Shitshitshitshitshitgodammitshitshit.

Maybe he can reach his phone? He thought. So with all his grace he leaned towards to island, swishing at the air in hopes his phone would magically come into his hand. Nah.

Leg, his leg might reach. It’s longer than his arm, and his can get some torso length in there. Lifting his leg and leaning his body out he kicks at the counter, his brows furrowed. Fuck. Bruce is very flexible, but his leg and torso are extended to the fullest human capacity, and fuck why are these countered so spaced out?!

Bruce pulls his body back and lays his forehead on the cold countertop, trying to push down the rage that’s building up in his chest. This is stupid. This is so fucking stupid. “Is anybody home? Stephanie? Jason? Ca- not you, Titus,” He lifted his head from the counter and looked to his right, and there Titus stood in front of Bruce, wanting to investigate the noise. Seeing nothing interesting Titus tilted his head and gave a “boof” before turning out and leaving him to his own demise, “no wait,” Bruce reached out for the dog who already made up his mind.

So there he stood.

Bruce Wayne

The Batman

The Dark Knight

The Worlds Greatest Detective

Dumbass

Knowing he now has to swallow his pride and go into his next move, he groans loudly. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s called when it wasn’t anything life threatening. Sure, it’s rare, but it does happen. Plus, he always understands, and by now he knows the differences between help and help. But Bruce knew there would be consequences... because he isn’t scared of Bruce, all his intimidation tactics fall short, completely on deaf ears around him.

“Clark,” his voice sounded almost like a whine, his voice was a little hoarse from literally forcing the words past his lips, “if you’re not busy I need a hand.”

Just as soon as his finished his sentence Clark was stood in front of him, flannel, glasses, and cowboy boots, “howdy.” Bruce closed his eyes at Clark’s greeting, then opened them to send him a hard glare, “what’s seems to be the problem, Bruce?” A wide and knowing grin spread across Clark’s face. X-ray vision. No explanation needed. Sure friends help friends in their times of need. But best friends? Oh yea, Bruce had to earn his help by paying the high price of humiliation.

“Just hand me my phone, Clark,” pointing at the device just out of reach.

A shocked and confused looked replaced Clark’s smile, “oh, this? This phone right here?” He also pointed, walking to grab the device, “you don’t happen to have Face ID do you?”

“No, I w-“ It was a lie. Clark know had opened his phone just by turning it to Bruce’s face. A sigh left his body, was this price worth his freedom? Probably not.

“Hold on, B, I’m not dressed properly. This is a rescue after all,” and just in a blink of an eye Superman now stood in front of a tired looking Bruce, having no choice of his front vow seat the shit show that was about to unfold. Clark lifted the phone and snapped a couple selfies with Bruce, grinning his charming smile that the world adored him for. Bruce looked like a hungover raccoon, putting it kindly.

“Are your done? Just get me out and I’ll buy you a horse or something.”

“Aw, you do care. I knew you were listening when I told you about that pony farm,” Clark didn’t bother to look up from the phone, tapping away at the screen, “oh Bruce, your groupchat is named ‘family’?”

His eyes widen, “don’t you da-“

“-Isn’t Dick a firefighter? I think that he’s better for this job,” Clark announced, taking a seat on the island that just out of reach, “I hope you understand Mr. Wayne, I’m glad to offer help but them seems like a job for our local emergency service.”

“If you call 911,” Bruce growled, gritting his teeth together, leaning towards the other man and close as possible, “I swear.”

Scoffing, Clark waves him off, “of course not, why would I waste a 911 operators time? There’s people who need real help out there. I’m calling Dick directly.” Once again, is the price of freedom worth it?

————-

“Fireman Dick Grayson reporting for duty!” Cried his oldest child with two other firman following close behind, “hey pops I h- is that Superman?” He faked a gasped, clutching his chest.

The group chat had blown up by now. A series of text and FaceTime calls followed shortly after.

Damian: “Tt. Father this is utterly disappointing”

Bruce: “Sorry to be disappointing, kiddo”

Stephanie: “lmfaoooo I’m coming over. Be there in 10 don’t escape until I get there”

Jason: *screenshot of the photo of Superman and Bruce posted on Twitter with the caption: “when your dad panics and calls Superman”

Jason: *another screenshot of a multitude of replies along the lines, “what are you doing step bro?” “What are your doing Superman?”*

Duke: “the mighty Batman has finally met his match. A kitchen sink”

Cassandra: “😆😆😂🤣😬🤔🧠🤷🏻‍♀️💕💕💗💓💖”

Bruce: “thank you, Cassandra. I think.”

Stephanie: “imma do a live when I get there 🤣”

Tim: “you know we’re not going to let you live this down right b?”

Dick: “dumbasssssss”

Dick: “don’t worry B I’ll be there to rescue you shortly”

Bruce: “I can unadopt all of you.”

Alfred: “master Bruce, please word yourself properly. “Unadopt�� isn’t a real word.”

Bruce: “Sorry, Alfred.”

So now that official rescue crew has arrived he expected this to be a quick and professional release. Nah. Dick, his oldest, his light in the dark, his son, his baby boy, is an asshole.

Dick started taking his own selfies with Bruce and Superman. Dick and Clark wore bright smiles, full of perfect teeth and glimmering eyes. Bruce, again, looked like a mess. He was wearing an old shirt, old sweatpants, no makeup on, his hair an untamed, scattered, frizzy mess. He should’ve conditioned, but he wasn’t expecting to go out today or have any photos done today.

The price of freedom is high, but not worth it.



[daddy-deathslinger]

If it isn't to much trouble could I please have some deathslinger angst with an fem s/o??

Howdy! I apologize that this took so long to post, I've been busy with alot of not-so-yeehaw things, but I'm back now! Hope you enjoy this angsty lil' bit I wrote, take care! 🤠

"Hold me" - Caleb Quinn/The Deathslinger x fem!reader

Cw; smoking

(I headcanon all the killers to have different names for the Entity, so Caleb usually calls it the Evil or something like that.)

-

Caleb put the cigarette to his lips and lit the sad looking butt he’d found in his coat pocket. He closed his eyes as he greedily inhaled the smoke into his airways. He closed his tired eyes in an attempt to stop the voices raging in his head, and for a moment, they actually seemed to quiet down. He hadn’t slept in days, weeks, who even knew what time was here? The big great Evil that haunted this place pushed him to his limits every trial, and afterwards. It never allowed him to relax anymore, he must always perform his best, and yet he always got tormented after the trials. It isolated him, made him see things, hear voices from his past. Foul voices, accusing him, pointing fingers, cursing him. He felt like he was going to break any second now from the stress. And yet, Caleb had done all this to himself. For you.

He’d made a deal with the devil, so to speak. He’d told the great big Evil that he wanted to spare you every trial for now on, that he was going to do so even if the Evil did not allow it. To his big surprise, the Evil had agreed, and the price Caleb had to pay had shown to be even sweeter suffering than the Evil could get from the survivors. In return for Caleb letting you go unharmed every trial, the great Evil tortured him immensely. During trials, making his work so much harder, and after trials, making the time he spent with you so much more trying. But the punishment was always worth it, when he got to see your beautiful smile and hear your amazing laughter. When Caleb was finished with the cigarette, he tossed it on the muddy ground and crushed it with his booth. He mumbled a low “thanks” to the Evil for allowing him a smoke before today’s trial, and then he grabbed his Redeemer and took a deep breath. He hoped this one would be over quickly.

As it turned out, it was over quickly, but not in the way Caleb had hoped.

“Come on, Kate, quick!”

A shot, another miss. The blonde one was out of the gates, and the rest quickly followed. Caleb had gotten none of them.

“Fucking hell, fuck fuck fuck…” he mumbled, frustration hammering in his chest as he watched the scum run away back to their safe campfire.

He turned around, trying to calm himself down, and headed towards his workshop. Maybe this time it wouldn’t be so bad, maybe-

“Caleb, help!”

Caleb reacted instantly, turning around towards the sound of the screaming woman. But the next second he remembered that his mother couldn’t be here. She was dead. He should know, he had watched it happen. First time as a kid, and then again and again in this hellhole.

“Caleb, help! Call for your father, help me!”

Caleb growled in frustration, covering his ears and quickening his pace towards the workshop.

“I-I can’t hold on any longer, Caleb-”

“SHUT UP!” Caleb screamed, closing his eyes tight as he burst into the workshop and closed the door behind him. “Just shut up, shut up!”

“C-Caleb?”

“You’re not real!” Caleb roared, and opened his eyes.

The workshop was surprisingly dark, and in the shadows he could see something staring at him. A shape, a formless figure, staring at him with malcontent, white eyes.

“W-Who are you? What do you want?” Caleb spat, readying his Redeemer.

The figure spoke, but he couldn’t understand it.

“Get out, get the fuck out of here!” he screamed, his voice making the dark room rumble.

“Caleb! Caleb, it’s me!”

Suddenly, like a spark of lightning on a dark night, the shadow in front of him turned into… you. His partner. The darkness of the workshop lifted, and Caleb stood in the middle of the room, his Redeemer at his side, staring at you like he’d seen a ghost.

“Caleb? W-What happened?”

Your worried voice sent spikes through his heart, and he let out a gasp as he dropped his Redeemer to the floor.

“Y/N?”

“Caleb…”

You quickly walked over to him, embracing him in a tight, warm hug. He hugged you back, releasing a deep sigh of frustration over what had just happened. He felt so stupid, scaring you like this over nothing more than tricks of the mind.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N-”

“No”, you hushed him, releasing him from your embrace to have a look at him. “You don’t need to apologize, Caleb, it’s alright! I know what it… What it does to you, I know it torments you so often.”

Your voice was sad, and it was almost worse than any torture endured by the Evil, seeing you like this.

“Did I… Did I hurt you-”

“No!” you quickly replied, a faint smile on your lips. “No, Caleb, you didn’t, you just scared me when you didn’t recognize me.”

You looked into his eyes, your eyebrows slightly furrowed, sadness and pain plastered all over your face.

“Didn’t you see me, didn’t you hear me calling your name…?”

Your voice made Caleb’s heart almost break right there. How could he have betrayed you like this, made you fear him? He would never forgive himself.

“I-I… I saw a shadow. I-I couldn’t understand what it was saying, and outside… my mother was screaming…”

He sighed and sat down on the rusty bed he had dragged into the workshop.

“You’ve been hearing her alot lately, right?” he heard you carefully ask, and with another irritated sigh he nodded.

This was getting too dangerous. He couldn’t stay with you, he was going to hurt you real bad one day, he knew it. You had no idea of the deal he’d struck with the Evil, but surely you must have noticed how agitated he had been as of late. How could you not have noticed? It had to end, he had to end things with you, there was no other way. But as he felt you sit down beside him on the bed, his heart screamed out for your touch. And as you embraced him again, he couldn’t hold back. He hugged you, embraced you desperately and sighed into your shoulder, so afraid of letting you go. As if holding you right now was like holding onto the last spark of sanity. You stroked his cheek, kissed him so tenderly, and he never wanted to leave.

“W-We can’t-” he started mumbling, but you hushed him with another kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s just lay down for a bit, please?” you asked, and how could he decline?

-

You laid in bed together, arms tight around each other. Caleb had removed his duster coat and his boots, and you laid close up to his chest, inhaling his scent. Caleb stroked your hair carefully, none of you speaking. Caleb would kill to have this moment last forever. But he knew that wasn’t a possibility; he knew you had to leave soon. Go back to the campfire, back to your friends. And he had to prepare for another trial. And soon enough, as he felt you starting to move underneath his arms, he withheld a sigh and blinked a few times to keep the tears at bay.

"Just stay here with me" he whispered, his embrace on you tightening. "Stay with me for a while longer. Hold me."

You smiled up at him, and laid back down comfortably. Soon, the two of you drifted off to sleep, holding each other as close as only lovers can.

[seiyasabi]

Howdy I've reading about yandere la squadra with pregnant darling before and I like it, do you think the yandere will do if they see her half sleep while breastfeed his child? (not poly)

ehehe love me some la squadra <3

Yandere La Squadra x Breastfeeding Reader HCs:

Risotto:

-When he comes home from his meeting, the last thing he expected was to see the two of you in such a precarious state

-He knows you've come a long way from when you were first taken, but he can't help but worry about how tired you've been lately

-He slips behind you, moving you into a comfortable position, before helping your son latch onto your breast in an easier fashion

-Once he knows you're both secure, he'll wait until your son in done feeding, he'll burp him, then allow the two of you to sleep in peace.

Prosciutto:

-Wants to scold you for putting your daughter in a dangerous position, but he can't bring himself to

-Your pregnancy took a lot out of you, and your turbulent sleep schedule hasn't helped you recuperate from your hard birth (never mind the fact that you didn't want to be w him in the first place, or have his kids-)

-He'll take her from your arms, shushing her, before grabbing your previously pumped milk, and starting to feed her himself

-All whilst doing this, he'll herd you into bed, and force you to sleep

Illuso:

-He'll straight up laugh at you

-Thinks you're being ridiculous, considering your only job is 'housewife,' but once your sleepy self starts crying, thus causing your twins to join in, he'll realise that you're absolutely emotionally drained

-Unlike the other two, he won't wait until you're somewhat ready for children, he'll just make you have them when he wants you to

-Remembering the articles ab new moms killing their kids in a fit of psychosis, he quickly swoops in and helps out, letting you rest for a while

-Whilst Illuso is a total ass, he does care ab you in some sick way

Formaggio:

-Thinks you and his daughter are adorable

-He'll quickly wake you up, before taking you to your shared bedroom, and making you a comfy spot

-Although he's dumb af, he knows that you need your rest

-He's the type to buy the fake boob feeders (like they're filled w ur previously pumped milk, but instead of a bottle, it's in the shape of tiddies lmao), so he'll whip that out and take over

Melone:

-Seeing you and his triplets makes his heart pound with love

-You don't have enough tiddy to go around, so you're feeding one w a bottle, but they're still resting on your chest, giving them the skinship they need

-Also the type to get the tiddy feeder thingy, just custom made w three tits

-Isn't afraid to give the kids formula if u don't make enough milk

-Will force you to go to bed, taking over immediately bc he loves u sm

-Is so happy you finally gave into his whims

Pesci:

-Seeing you all sleepy w your son makes him so flustered

-He rushes over and helps the babe reattach himself, before he does as Ris did, and places you in his lap

-He'll allow you to sleep on his chest whilst ur son feeds, before taking care of his needs, and then taking care of yours

-Will wake u up to make sure you ate and drank water, before giving you a romantic bath

-Will always put you first <3

Ghiaccio:

-Loves both u and his daughter to bits, so he'll quickly grab a bottle and get to work

-He's so soft for the both of u, and he'll multitask feeding ur babe, and ordering you to do self care

-Lowkey thinks ab making Pesci take care of ur baby so u can rest for a while

-Once the baby is put down for bed, he'll let you rest against his cool skin, lulling you to sleep

Sorbet and Gelato:

-Sorbet walks in on a sleeping Gelato and a tired you

-Your twins are nestled in your arms, suckling each breast, as you give the dark haired man a tired smile

-From the looks of it, Gelato made sure you took care of yourself, whilst also taking care of the babies

-Will take the babes from u and feed them, allowing u and Gel to cuddle in bed, before he joins y'all

[notmrskennedy]

Noticed

Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

A/N - Howdy! Here’s another little something from my drafts. It’s a draft and a half again so be gentle with it. Also, I’m touch averse and I would be so happy to find someone I wasn’t upset with touching. But c’est la vie! I hope y’all enjoy!

Summary - The touch averse agent starts getting touchy....

W/C - 2.5k

Warnings - none I think, but lmk if there is something

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

If Morgan was being honest with himself, he thought you were dying. Or maybe ill. Or so feverish you’d abandoned every single principle you had. Because he’d been there that first day of yours, waltzing up from the coffee machine to see you nervously trailing behind Hotch. It was painful to watch, he remembers, so terribly nervous you’d envy the kid on one of his bad days.

He had smiled at you and stirred his coffee and remained optimistic that someone so obviously terrified would be a decent field agent. (You’d been decent and then some, especially in an interrogation room). There’d been one non-committal wave—distinctly reminiscent of a certain genius—and the first full sentence of, “I’m sorry, but I just don’t do the touching thing. Handshakes included.”

Every little touch plagues you. You’re six inches away at all times, lest someone accidentally bump into you or get the wrong idea that you might be willing to brush shoulders. There’s no friendly pats. No high fives. Certainly no hugs. Garcia is furious in her attempt to loosen you up—to no avail—but Morgan knows better than to push. Something makes you hate skin to skin contact and he’s not looking to share trauma stories with you. Not yet.

So this, Morgan thinks as he wanders into the bullpen while stirring his coffee, is a sign that you’ve lost your mind.

He watches as you carefully extend one palm to one Dr. Spencer Reid. Perched on the edge of his desk, you’re a regular fixture, just another cute figurine to add to the collection. It’s the end to some wild discussion he could hear in the kitchenette, full of flailing limbs and butchered sentences. Everyone always thought it was cute, if you stripped away how irritating it could be.

This is the point where you two are caught up in whatever moment you’re having, so much so that you extend an upturned palm between the two of you. Reid threads his hands through his hair, stunned at your peace offering. Or maybe an offering of something more than friendship. Morgan assumes its something more; not only because you have the softest grin he’s ever seen, but because your fingers are practically begging the kid to hold your hand.

Reid’s careful in how he asks his question—Morgan doesn’t know what it is, but he can just tell. The wide eyes. The scared contemplation. The are you sure parting the kid’s lips.

Grinning and blushing, you just wiggle your fingers. Murmur something that Morgan isn’t allowed to hear. Something only for Spencer. There’s surprise before he grips onto your hand, wriggling all ten combined fingers together. You giggle as you spin him around in his desk chair and get tangled up.

Dropped jaw and grinning, Morgan can’t believe you, so touch averse you, are willing engaging in such risky behaviour. There’s a weird few moments when he wants to remind both of you to wear protection in such endeavours.

And as he’s wondering if hands need condoms, the two of you let go and move on like nothing’s happened. You go back to punctuating your points with your flailing hands. Spencer goes back to distracting from his blush with paperwork.

Morgan goes to get more coffee, trying to stop imaging that you two were his kids, growing up without his consent. And maybe also the hand condoms.

#

It’s shortly after JJ’s wedding—about midnight as the cleaning crew are picking up the straggling drunks—both Hotch and Rossi notice. They’re leaned up against the bar, each smoking a cigar, watching a slightly tipsy you teach an awkwardly sober Spencer Reid how to swing dance.

It’s no secret that you and Reid get on like a house on fire, two nerds that couldn’t shut up about whatever weird ass shit was on your brains. Rossi never made much move to care. Hotch was too stressed to think about what the pair of you did off company time. Everyone, them included, imagined that what time you did spend together was three feet apart. In museums. Wherever. No one questioned what kind of weird nerd shit you did, especially stuff that they couldn’t really be bothered to care about.

Now, they’re forced to carefully consider the implications of how touchy you’re getting. With Reid.

He’s even more gangly and uncoordinated than normal, as Hotch and Rossi watch on, getting thrown around like a rag doll. It’s kind of adorable, Rossi thinks and shares a well meaning look with Hotch. The two of you would be cute and he’s hoping that you do get together. Rossi always knows about these things, even if Hotch is positive that you two are just friends. And as two professional gentlemen do, they made a bet.

Twenty bucks.

Your laugh—one that no one gets tired of hearing—echoes around Rossi’s whole yard, even into his house. Reid’s voice is about two octaves too high as you spin him around on his wobbly feet. You go from three feet apart to chest to chest and back again. Rossi remembers high school dances vaguely and Hotch absently thinks about Hayley’s old infatuation with Grease.

Rossi takes another long drag from his cigar, grateful for the indisputable proof that you two are shacking up. There is no way that two people so touch averse could be touching this much without prior exposure. The yard is a ruckus of both of your laughters, year after year of awkwardness falling off you both in sheets. They’re no denying you two shut in nerds are finally having some fun.

It’s warming both Hotch and Rossi’s hearts.

And their bet.

#

Penelope notices next. Who knew that such a simple interaction could leave her speechless? Stammering and stuttering over not even a full minute of insanity.

She didn’t know how she’d gotten sick, or what she’d come down with, but the only thing that was keeping her in her work chair was you. And the endless buckets of soup that you kept pouring down her throat. Without a case—thank god—for the last couple days, all that you’ve done is sit in the bat cave, keeping her and her soup warm.

It’s as you are finishing some corny ass joke that she thinks how sweet you are. How loving. Penelope’s love language has always been touch—she’s given too many hugs to count—but it’s taken her a minute to figure out yours. And as she stares into the chicken soup in her hands, she realises that it’s everything you do for her. Your love is literally palpable.

It’s in the bright keychains you bring back. Or the crazy pens. Or the way you always drive her home after drinking.

As she’s opening her mouth to tell you, tell you just how much she appreciates everything, when Reid pops his head in, whole body following. He’s got too much of a grin this early. But when he’s far enough into the room, he spreads his fingers out over your shoulder and squeezes. Says something about a case and you follow behind him with a wave of your hand at Penelope. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Like Penelope hasn’t been the one furiously trying to break you out of your shell. The predetermined first to get a hug in the office.

You’re still up and still waving and by the time she’s got her wits about her, she’s asking, “You let Reid touch you?”

The empty room and the closing door don’t answer.

#

JJ is nearly the last to find out. Well, your little touching relationship with Spencer has been the only topic of gossip between anyone for the last six weeks. They can’t believe they hadn’t picked up on the little bits of affection passed between the two of you.

Hand touches. Shoulder squeezes. Quick brushes. The mystical hug Morgan claims he once saw.

For the rest of the world, you and Spencer were nothing but friendly. Maybe even best friendly. To the team of highly trained profilers who had been friends with the pair of you for a combined 15 years, this was marriage material. This was you and Spencer screaming the pair of you had eloped.

You two crazy kids had to be together, but the team was left to sussing it out for themselves. Neither of you two would ever say anything, never give anything up. But surely, the three of them—using Penelope would be cheating of course—could figure out when you two had started up. Because you had to have. There was no way all of this was just friendly.

And it isn’t. That much is clear when JJ gets a phone call from you while she’s looking a crime scene over for what feels like the gazillionth time. Some un-sub with the usual cocktail of daddy issues, anger issues, and a healthy dose of narcissism.

It’s rare you call anyone without good reason. You aren’t the type to just chat—everyone has speculated you got enough of that from Spencer. And once JJ says hello, you start bawling.

You’re sobbing and JJ has no idea what to do.

“Y/n, y/n,” she tries, hoping you’ll calm down enough to breathe properly. “You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s—it’s Spencer,” you hiccup. JJ can hear you sniffling into your sleeves. Can hear the blinkers go as you change lanes. “He’s not answering—not answering his phone. And he said he’d—that he’d call, but he hasn’t. And JJ something’s wrong.”

By the way your breath hitches and your sobs crackle into the phone, JJ knows exactly how bad it has to be. Spencer, however, is supposed to be following up a lead with Emily. Some paint huffer in his mom’s garage—nothing more than a routine witness report. She almost can’t believe something would go wrong.

“What happened? Where are you?”

“JJ,” you sniffle before the flood gates open again, “I can just feel it. Something’s wrong.”

JJ’s mind scrambles. As much as you played it off, you had a sixth sense. Every time, every countable time, someone got hurt, you knew before it happened. You had a gut for these things and JJ didn’t want to think about how bad this was going to be. How bloody. So she scrambles for her car and doesn’t wait for the other detectives to figure it out.

JJ’s halfway to the witness’s house when you make it there yourself. You’re still on the phone, doing a horrible attempt at trying to keep each other calm. You’ve traded the sobs for hiccups, thankfully. JJ can hear you climbing the porch stairs. She’s taking corners at 65 miles an hour.

Nothing seems fast enough when JJ hears the phone clatter to the floor and the shout of “oh my god, Spencer!”

Nothing is fast enough when you’re sobbing out, “You can’t die on me like this.”

Nothing is fast enough when JJ quietly but distinctly hears, “I love you too much for you to fucking die, Spencer Reid.”

#

Spencer Reid always thinks he’s the last to find out. He’s blunt and oblivious and thinks too much to just see what’s in front of his face. He was so sure they had all seen how in love he was, just how desperately he was clinging to the hope they wouldn’t notice. If they didn’t notice, you wouldn’t. Not while wearing the same sort of blinders he wore.

But once everything had come out? He was positive everyone else had known. That he’d come into work one morning and there would be a cake engraved with the words, “Congrats on Shacking Up!”

It never happened. No cake. No lights. No surprises. No one seemed to know or notice or anything. Spencer and you went on like nothing had changed—it really hadn’t anyway. He liked to laugh when you told him the two of you had been practically dating since the first time he’d offered to take you to a Korean film festival.

Two years later and he’s become very aware of you. And also the ache. All of the very dull and consistent ache in his body. Another scar to add to the collection, he bitterly thinks, out of anaesthesia enough to know that he’s in a hospital. That he’s been hurt. That someone’s holding his hand.

It’s calloused and soft and just perfectly latched onto his. A hand he’d waited to hold for too long. One that he’d be holding for the rest of his life.

Attached to the hand is you, sleeping haphazardly between his bed and a plastic chair. Your fingers are tangled in his, head rested on the crook of your arm and the bed. There’s too much of you curled up in a chair. It’s one of his favourite bits about you, just how dedicated you could be. How you were always there when he woke up and always would be.

He smiles and chuckles despite the pain in his ribs. You wake with a start, one startled gasp followed by a shuddery exhale as you realise again where you are. That nothing’s changed. That everything’s changed.

Through lidded eyes, he watches your eyes light up, matching you grin for grin. He watches the anger flash across your face for not even a second, and he knows exactly how bad you want to murder him for scaring you so bad.

Instead, you press frantic kisses to the back of his knuckles, message fully received. You missed him. You’d been terrified. You’d cried so hard, he can still feel the salt on your lips.

“Spencer,” you breathe, giving his hand one more kiss for good measure and pressing his knuckles to your cheek. “God, I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“I’m alive, y/n, I promise,” he whispers back. Hoarse and adorably okay. It’s one thing to expect to get shot going after un-subs. It’s another to get attacked by a PCP addled grandmother.

He wiggles a finger against your cheek. Even though he can’t see your red rimmed eyes or the dark tear tracts on your cheeks, he can feel the tear that pools on his finger. But before he can reassure you one more time, you shush him and tell him to get some sleep and that you’ll both worry about this later. Maybe over jell-o.

He grins.

#

The team, visiting the next morning, doesn’t have the heart to wake up either of you. Reid looks happy for the first time in—years—with you carefully curled into his side. Sure, there’s a scratchy hospital gown and some pesky lines overriding everything, but it’s cute. No denying that. Thank god you two knuckleheads are finally being open about it. Even if you’re sleeping.

Emily smiles to herself as she readjusts her sling. Morgan and JJ are trading exclamations of shock, while Hotch passes Rossi twenty dollars. You readjust and Reid’s arm moves to rest across your cheek. JJ isn’t subtle when she takes a photo, sniggering.

Emily is even less subtle when she snorts. “I guess I can finally let the cat out of the bag.”

Everyone perks up; she swears she sees Reid open an eye.

“Nearly six months ago, y/n drunkenly confessed to dating Reid. She’s a real wild card on tequila, let me tell you.”

“You knew?” Morgan screeches, “and you didn’t say anything?”

Emily shrugs, winces with her busted up shoulder. “Does it matter? Didn’t we all know?”

[milkytheholy1]

Apocalyptic Love: Chapter 25: It all goes still.

A/N: Howdy everyone, today's chapter is a little grim towards the end so beware. But I do have a challenge for you, if you choose to accept. I am looking for a name for a certain bear mutant, Mikey's currently come up with a placeholder, but we need something better. So if you think you've got a pretty sick name leave it down below and I'll choose my favourite! I'm hoping to add more participation from you guys in later chapters, so stay tuned. Enjoy!

Tmnt masterlist. Ultimate masterlist. AL masterlist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You ducked and dived under the claws of the jaguar mutant, her snarls rumbling through her chest. Your actions were panicked but precise, using the bat that had been by your side since the first day of school.

Even though you weren't much of a fighter, you could still hold your own in a fight and though it had been brief, Casey did give you a small lesson back at the farmhouse. Now you wished you had taken more of them.

Backing away from the enemy was doing nothing, all the things action movies had taught you were seemingly useless here. They weren't growing tired, they weren't backing down, if anything they were getting stronger by the minute.

You jumped back as another claw scathed past the smooth metal of your bat, sparks flying from it. This was insane, you often wondered if the apocalypse never happened, what would you have become? Certainly, you would've never met the turtles or any of their enemies. But was that such a bad thing? You had enjoyed the few moments you got with them, but all this action was starting to take a toll on you.

You couldn't keep up your fast movements any longer, you never had good stamina but compared to the others around you? You were definitely the weakest link. Growing sloppy with your movements, you were punished by the hands of God as a sharp pain erupted in the calf of your leg. You yelled out in pain, limping back to avoid another critical hit.

The jaguar lady didn't stop her movements, only breathing more heavy through her nose. She stalked closer to you, a predator hunting down its prey in the wild, which is exactly what you were. Before she could end your miserable life, two twin blades clanged against her claws. Opening your eyes, you flinched at the glare Leo held, "Get outta here!" he yelled but you were too stunned to do anything but stare.

He pushed the bitch back, swivelling his head to you quickly, "Didn't you hear me? Run!" he was angry, but the anger wasn't held towards you but more so what the Foot had done to these innocent people. The blades clanged again, clashing as the jaguar took charge, grasping the edges like it was nothing, she ignored the drops of blood that dribbled down her palms.

Leo looked scared, hell, he probably was. It was most likely the first time something like this had happened, from the rage of his actions you could only assume the Foot had never done something quite this unethical before.

"(Y/N), get outta here, go!" he had managed to push her back further this time, giving ample time to glare at you and why you still weren't moving. He pulled you up with a quick hand, staring into your worried eyes, "You need to go, I don't want you getting hurt."

The emotions were still swirling around you from before, stood on that staircase, did he like you or was he just pretending. You needed to know, but now wasn't the time, you could see him waiting for an answer or action, just anything to show you were paying attention.

"D-do you actually like me?" you muttered out, feeling small as the buildings surrounding you grew in height. Leo pulled back, startled by your response, "W-what do you mean? Of course, I like you." You wanted to believe him, you really did, but your silly brain was fueling the doubts more and more. You really gave yourself trust issues.

"I just- it's-" a loud growl interrupted your ramblings, turning around the jaguar had raced towards you both. Her arms were spread wide, claws growing out and dripping with blood. Leo stood in a defensive position in front of you, but he wasn't ready for a fight, still wounded by the thought that you doubted his feelings.

Lost in his mind, he nearly failed to see the big cat pounced at him, luckily enough Raph swooped in to save the day. With a precise kick to the head, the cat went screeching against a brick wall on the opposite side of the street. Landing back on his feet, Raph turned to you both with a glare, "Are ya just gonna stand there or actually help us!"

Leo shook his head towards his brother, soon after Raph had disappeared back into the fight, "We're not done talking about this," he warned you, following after his brother. You sighed to yourself, picking up the disregarded bat on the floor, what have you gotten yourself into.

---

The bear from before seemed to be leading the charge, swarming around him were the other mutants, following his every command. Mikey swooped back from a deadly punch, the mutant he was fighting vaguely reminded him of his scaley gecko friend.

"Woah, look at their eyes! They're glowing purple!" he pointed out, ducking away and backing into the tallest brother. Donnie quickly picked up on this too, using his bo to block another attack, "You're right, they're all glowing purple. T-they must be connected to each other, like a hive-mind."

"Question is, who's controlling it, dude?"

"That I don't know, but my only guess would be Karai." Donnie noted, staring at the Foot tower in the distance, the top was shielded by the clouds but he had seen that thing long enough to know it was there.

---

The screen flickered due to interference from the battle outside, but Karai held a smile as her plan was working perfectly. She watched with eager eyes as her mutants continued to cause destruction and chaos on the very streets she ruled, and with the additional numbers coming in thanks to the Footbots, Karai's mutant army was growing bigger and bigger.

"All according to plan," she mused, an evil grimace on her face. She turned away from the screen, moving to glance down through the large ceiling to floor windows, arms held behind her back. She couldn't see much, everyone looking like ants from where she was, but the smoke and blaster shots were plain to see.

"It's time to kick it up a notch, move into phase three of the plan." she commanded, a bot in the shadows emerging with a nod of it's mechanical head.

----

Casey skidded around a tight bend, using his hockey stick to swat away the smaller mutants on his tail. Approaching the main street where the big fight was happening, he saw Raph perched on top of a Lion mutant's shoulders, "Incoming!" he shouted.

Raph flicked his head up at the sound, eyes wide when he saw a dozen or so little mutants flying towards him. Jumping ship, Raph rolled onto the ground before standing beside Casey and watching the Lion get trampled on until he fell to the ground. The two shared a fist bump and a devilish smirk, "Not bad, Jones."

The Lion's body suddenly erupted into purple and pink sparks, his whole body jutting and shaking in an unhuman way. Raph and Casey took a few cautionary steps back, "Woah, what's up with him?" Casey huffed.

It appeared as though all the mutants were following suit, standing straight, body covered in purple light, those with fur looked like balls of fluff; they were being electrocuted. The growls and howls that fell from their mouths brought a sense of fear but guilt in your heart, they didn't deserve this, they were just regular people like you.

The pain soon stopped, the bear that stood in front collapsed to his knees, panting deeply. Leo leaned closer to the beast, "Hey, that looks like some Kraang tech," he pointed out. A metal collar was strapped around the poor thing's neck, most of the smoke emitting from it, "It could be likely, after all, The Foot did take over any Kraang remaining on Earth." Donnie stated.

The ground rumbled beneath their feet, the others had grouped together once again. You stood beside Mikey, watching as he was in deep thought, "Maybe we should call him Bearzilla? Ooh, or just something simple like Claude!"

"Are you really doin' this now!" Raph shouted, slapping Mikey behind the head with the palm of his hand. Mikey let out a whine, "Well I'm sorry but naming villains calms me!" he yelled back, rubbing his head with sunken shoulders.

"Guys, can we do this later," Leo groaned, the two huffing out in reply. You leant closer to Mikey, "I liked Bearzilla," you hummed, he seemed to smile at that. Though the smile could only last so long, the bear, currently dubbed Bearzilla, had stood to his full strength. He released a roar that shook the city then quickly pounced on you all.

The mutants behind him soon followed after, forcing your group to go further and further down the street until you were cornered against a one-way street.

"Oh no, dudes, Bearzilla's got us!" Mikey cried out, pushing himself deeper and deeper into the brick wall, just begging to get away from this whole situation.

"Will you stop calling him that!" Raph growled out. The ground began to shake once again, but unlike last time, the buildings moved too. They swayed from side to side, loud bangs echoed through the streets, dirt and debris flying into the air; explosions.

Leo's eyes widened at the realisation, but it was too late to evacuate, this was a trap; a trap set by Karai no doubt. Before he could call the order to run, an explosive went off close to their location sending them all in the air and soon onto the hard concrete ground.

It hurt like hell, Leo couldn't feel most of his bones, but he didn't think they were broken; only numb. He faintly turned his head against the ground, eye soar from previous fights and the dirt that was invading his cut. He blinked his eyes open weakly, seeing your small form close to his side; unconscious.

He began to panic, but he couldn't do anything. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak, he could only stare. He stared so hard he thought he was seeing things, he noticed the slow rise and fall of your back, that was good, it meant you were still breathing. He heard some groans and moans from the others, some more good news, they were all alright.

Turning to face the other way, Leo's eyes caught on Donnie. Held by the neck, occupied by the bear, Donnie was swaying around in his grasp. Struggling. He kicked and clawed at the bear mutant, fighting to breathe in any air, face turning a deep purple the more he grappled. Leo's eyes widened, breath falling short at the sight, he outstretched his arm, the only thing he could do.

"DONNIE!" He yelled out, the only reaction was a slight flinch from the poor genius. Donnie continued to gasp and scratch at the mutant, pulling tufts of fur from his flexing hand. But then it happened. All in a quick moment, though it felt even slower for Leo watching. The unoccupied hand of the bear sprung to life, claws shooting from the tips of his fingers and unnervingly moving towards his brother.

And with a swipe of a hand, it was all over, Donnie's fidgeting body went still, his small pleas silenced. Leo's blood began to boil, a yell ripping out from the deep grooves of his throat, "NOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

Not now, this couldn't be happening. Tears swelled in Leo's eyes, he couldn't look away, not when he could still see his brother in the hands of that monster.

[spnopineapples]

ALRIGHT PEOPLE. I'm READY.

LAST OF US 2 SPOILERS!!!!

......

.......

Are ya gone yet? Have you scrolled past if you don't want to see?

....

Alright. *CRACKS KNUCKLES AND NECK* Let's jump on into this!

First off I'm done with the game.

Second off..... THIS GAME WAS FUCKING PHENOMENAL!!! 10/10

The ending litterally killed me. Finished 2 hours ago,talked the ear off of my best friend for about 1 and a half hours and gushed and lamented the whole time. Cried for about 20 minutes by myself. Had an existential crisis. So on so on. And now I'm here, in the middle of an online meeting cause, ya know, Corona, muted with no camera on, because I'd much rather be typing out this dissertation.

Y'ALL. Go play this. It is AWESOME.

Now for the third and probably longest bit of this. My rebuttal to the bad reviewers:

I still contend that the bad reviews are 1 of 2 reasons with a little of a 3rd mixed in to both. #1. Being that people are pissed they killed off Joel and think the story did a disservice to the characters. #2. People are pissed because they think Naughty Dog was pushing a liberal agenda with a heavily muscled female antagonist/protagonist, a gay Ellie, and a transgender side character, Lev. The mixed in #3 is the extensive violence which I do contend was a lot. Yeah LoU1 was definitely violent, but damned this one got dark. And that's something coming from me because I am a fan of gratuitous violence.

Let me tackle these real quick. I'll be brief about #2 here though.

IN REBUTTAL TO REASON #2 - If you honestly didn't like LoU2 because of this reason (which I explained in my previous post about how IT IS logical that Abby be built the way she is and how Naughty Dog was definitely NOT shoving this or ANY of the others i mentioned in anyone's face in my opinion) you're in need of some corrective thinking and you should re-evaluate your ideas and realize that your opinion on these social issues doesn't matter and is wrong. None of these things make the game story illogical or bad. Bottom line: there are people like this in the world and their stories in this game drive the plot. It doesn't belittle the previous games or detract from the current game at all. You're just bigoted. Calm your tits and don't play the game if it upsets you so much. Pull a Seth and bury the hatchet. Make some steak sandwiches.

But I'm going to give the benefit of the doubt and imagine that the majority of the bad reviewers were more pissed at reason #1, Joel's Death. But real quick.

IN REBUTTAL OF REASON #3 -If you hated the game because of the amount of violence, do realize that the violence was the point of the story this time AND IT WAS SUPPOSE TO BE A DRAG ON YOUR SOUL. LoU1 was about finding love again in a violent world. Love being in the foreground and the violence a backdrop, which is why the violence didn't feel so in your face even though it was PLENTY violent. LoU2 was about succumbing to the violent world because of losing love. Violence being the foreground and tainted love (insert song here ya bastards) being the backdrop that drives it. AND HERE IS MY FAVORITE PART PLEASE READ THIS PART AT LEAST IF YOU DECIDE NOT TO READ THE WHOLE THING.

Think of the two endings. LoU1 WAS a story ABOUT finding love in a violent world BUT ENDED with Joel committing a violent act to protect his love (killing all the Fireflies, 1 of which was Abby's father and the driving reason for LoU2's main plot, and DOOMING THE WORLD TO INFECTION AND DAMNING HUMANITY). LoU2 WAS a story ABOUT losing love and reacting with violence BUT ENDED with Ellie doing a peaceful act (allowing Abby to leave alive with Lev) because of the love she had for Joel (that flashback scene of Joel playing guitar when Ellie decided to forgive him for the violence and lie at the end of LoU1).

DO Y'ALL SEE HOW IMPORTANT THAT IS?

There NEEDED to be a LoU2 because LoU1 ended with violence and a lie. LoU2 fulfilled this with an ending of forgiveness driven by a memory of love from the first game.

I've read a lot of the bad reviews where they mention the violence became too much and ruined the game. And that Ellie wouldn't act like that. First off Ellie totally would, fuck off with that noise. Second off THAT'S THE POINT. This was a story about how revenge is cyclic violence and it doesn't end until someone makes the decision to end it!

BOTTOM LINE: I felt ragged 2/3's of the way thru this game because of the violence, but that's the point of the story. Revenge is not worth it. Especially when it's with people like Abby and Ellie. Because neither are villians. AND BOY HOWDY DID IT TAKE ME A LONG TIME TO COME TO TERMS WITH THIS. Because I HATED ABBY FOR KILLING JOEL. When I first started playing her I DID NOT WANT TO BECAUSE I WAS ANGRY WITH HER. I litterraly felt dirty playing her. But this game did something amazing to get me around to appreciating her character. NOT LIKING HER CHARACTER, but appreciating. And I will tackle this in my next rebuttal.

IN REBUTTAL OF REASON # 1 - Let's talk about Joel's death.

I WILL NOT LIE TO YALL.

I was mightily upset about his death. At first I thought it to be a disservice to a beloved character. But then I realized something. See above about Joel's actions. He killed all those Fireflies and DAMNED THE WORLD. Not only that it is specifically mentioned in both LoU1 and in this game that Joel and Tommy did horrible things before they met Ellie and before Jackson. JOEL WAS NOT A GOOD GUY.

I think what people are upset about is the REALNESS of this game. A lot of other game developers don't do what Naughty Dog has done. Naughty Dog did not shy away from Joel's character flaws and his past wrongs! In fact, all the user's that use the reason for hating the game as "too many plotholes" Y'ALL FUCKING PLAYIN. More on that later.

Back to what I was saying about realness. In the real world, Joel's death and the brutality of it and suddenness of it is actually a very logical event that would occur. Abby doesn't KNOW Joel like we do. All she knows is this guy killed her father and a lot of her friends and damned humanity in the process. LoU1 is not a happy game. Might I remind yall about Sam and Henry? But his death was not "sudden". And it didn't steal Joel from us. I actually really enjoyed all the flashbacks to him. We got more than enough time and I actually feel as if the time we got with Joel was better because of his death so early in the game. DO NOT TELL ME THAT THAT NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM FLASHBACK DIDN'T FULFILL EVERY FEELING NEED.

And now for the wrap up - the big hangup that I see of those who hated Joel's Death is that the story didn't redeem it. They couldn't "buy" Ellie forgiving Abby at the end.

As I stated I will not lie. I was worried for about 2/3s of the way through this game that the bad user reviews were accurate and that the story sucked because I couldn't see where the writers were going. All I saw was senseless death of characters that I had loved and that I was coming to love. I straight up love Jesse by the way. It wasn't until Abby met Lev and Yara that I started seeing the majesty of this revenge story.

BECAUSE THE TRUTH IS I HATE FUCKING REVENGE STORIES WHERE THE MAIN CHARACTER IS LIKE, NO, THEY WOULDN'T WANT ME TO DO THIS. Before this game I'd be like "miss me with that bullshit" but after today I would say "give it to me like this." This actually felt real. And boy was it raw. Guys, the reason I started forgiving Abby is because of her decision to help Yara and Lev. Because it was her attempt to right the wrong of killing Joel which was eating her alive. Her and Owen and Mel. Guys. She is Joel. Why the hell do you think Joel did what he did for Ellie in the first game? Because he liked her at first site? BULLSHIT. He did it because Tess told him to do something good for once. IF YOU ARE UPSET WITH ABBY THEN YOU SHOULD BE UPSET WITH JOEL. I get it. Abby had to earn that with her story because at the beginning I'd have said leave her to the clickers. BUT CONTRARY TO THE USERS OF THIS REASONING SHE DID DESERVE HER REDEMPTION. The game shows over and over and over again that Abby isn't some mustache twirling villian who deserves instant death. She is complicated. She cares and she hates and she loves. She knows what's right and wrong and tries to do right as much as possible but she's human and she gets angry. Anger means you care.. and she cared about her father. She's a good human too because good humans feel shitty about doing shitty things and if you are observant at all you can tell immediately with Abby, as we play her in her Seattle Day 1, that she has doubts and isn't comfortable with her role in how Joel died. SHE DESERVED BEING FORGIVING BY ELLIE AT THE END. AND IN THE SAME TOKEN ELLIE DESERVED FORGIVING HER AND BEING FORGIVEN BY ABBY. It is very clearly obvious by the end of the game that Ellie could not reconcile her revenge killings with her best memories of Joel or with the actions she had to take to get there. Also it is of very important note here that Ellie stopped drowning Abby because of a flash image of Joel playing guitar. And then later on actually seeing the memory associated with that image that stopped her you can understand why Ellie did stop outside of just being as tired of violence as Abby was. The memory shows Joel and Ellie agreeing to try to forgive Joel for lying to her about the Fireflies and denying her her purpose. All this the night before he is killed. Note what Joel says. "If God gave me the chance to do it all over again. I would have done the same thing." Just that fucking devotion he has for Ellie shines through and she really understands his reasons for what he did. Still doesn't feel as if she can forgive him. THAT IS IMPORTANT. She DOES NOT agree with his decision. She understands it, but doesn't agree. But still decides to try and forgive. GUYS. That's exactly what she understands about Abby. Joel was sorry but he still would have done it. Same with Abby. There's a reason that image popped up as she was killing Abby and not the image of his beaten up face.

Remember that line from LoU2? Tess said it. As she is confessing to Joel that she was bit. "We're shitty people, Joel. It's been that way for a long time!" And Joel says "No, we are survivors!"

Y'all don't think for one second that Joel wouldn't have gone after that Soldier who shot Sarah if Tommy hadn't shot him? Y'all kidding yourselves.

Abby realizes this truth in the end. She realizes the part she played in enhancing and playing into the fucking violence and shittiness. Staining and tainting herself in the process. She just wanted to be clean. And Ellie just wanted to be clean.

Bombing this game is doing a fucking disservice to the emotional complexity of this story. It's been a long time since I've been that emotionally twisted.

This game isn't preachy. This game makes something clear that alot of other revenge stories get wrong. Revenge makes otherwise good people do shitty things and the shitty things taint us for the rest of our lives. At least Ellie and Abby stopped themselves before they tainted all their being.

Yeah we're shitty people. But we don't have to be.

[waitingtobeimpressed]

The Duchess (1/?)

A/N- howdy friends, I actually wrote this like a year ago but I was never really happy with it, but anyways here it is.

**Not my gif**

Warnings: a severe attitude problem?

Captain Celeste Guthrie was finding it incredibly hard to keep control of her facial expressions. At this current moment in time she was hyper aware that if she let her guard down for even a second her sour mood would become evident on her face. It would be unprofessional of her to get up and leave and childish of her to just simply state just how ‘fucking

boring’ this was. Celeste could have been doing any number of things instead of being sat in a brittle wooden chair with all these old men all gaping at her breasts. It was exhausting to pretend like she gave a crap about all of this political bullshit, but if she didn’t even try to act like she cared as much as the rest of them she would be ridiculed for it, so instead she politely smiled and nodded her head along with the other men’s words. The six other Captains sat around Eleanor’s office table were all men and they all highly doubted the oldest Guthrie sisters’ capabilities to lead any ship let alone a pirate ship.

“Miss Guthrie?” an annoyed voice pulled her from her thoughts and seemingly grounded her at an instant, her deep blue eyes flicked over the source of the sound to see a short, round burly man with a long greying beard and mustache. He was shaking his head with a wicked smile etched onto his lips. He looked like he wanted to rip the much younger woman into several pieces for even acting like she belonged there.

“Actually, I prefer Captain, if you wouldn’t mind” Celeste could feel her sisters disapproving glare from next to her. Which only incited her bad mood further. Normally, Eleanor herself would have put the old man in his place for even daring to talk to her sister like this, however, she was trying to convince him to lower his prices for her so Celeste’s feelings would just have to be put on hold.

“Just as I thought” he continued to blabber on, he truly believed that he had her figured out, that he had all women figured out, because a woman couldn’t lead, a woman couldn’t even tie her shoelaces without help from a man. All men were the same, or at least all the men in Nassau were the same. All arrogant assholes.

“Why are we even entertaining this child!” he spat with more venom that was needed to get his point across while slamming his hand upon the table like it was a gavel. Celeste raised an annoyed eyebrow in his direction before turning to look at her sister who simply mouthed the word ‘no’. Celeste just thought that he was incredibly lucky that he was sat on the other side of the room to her otherwise she would have shown him just how much of child she could be.

Celeste stood, pushing her dress down to press out the wrinkles before placing both of her hands upon the table, leaning the rest of her body weight in the direction of her certain accuser. A forced laugh escaped her lips as she shook her head, her blonde ringlets bouncing as she did so. “I feel so incredibly sorry for you Captain Pike” a confused look flashed over his features before an angry one took its place. “ it must be truly terrible to always have the smallest brain in the room, and with all of these big, offensive ideas brewing up there I’m personally surprised that you are not constantly plagued with a searing headache” Celeste smiled, she simply couldn’t help herself. Now this was a meeting that was worth going to.

“Now, I don’t want to come across as hostile because I know that you men are extremely sensitive when it comes to the size of your… Ships,” Celeste paused to locate her choice words carefully, Captain Pike looked like her wanted to throttle her, like many of the other Captains, on the other hand Captain Flint looked highly amused.

“however, The Duchess has once again brought in the most imports, most of which are ready for market” Celeste sat, slumping slightly in her chair to indicate to the others just how unjust these accusations were. “Once again, my ship and my crew have made the most money, which is probably why I’m being ‘entertained’ at this meeting,”. She shot a pointed look towards Pike who looked like he needed to take a breath to ‘calm his nerves’. ”so the real question is why are you being entertained?”

“It’s truly great that your humble about your success” Flint chuckled with a wide smile as he kicked up his feet onto the table. Celeste mocked his actions as she crossed her arms over her chest. “but the lady does have a point, Pike,” he said as he stretched his arms to rest above his head. “so shut your damn mouth”

“Now that’s no way to speak to one of our most respected colleagues” an instantly recognizable deep voice echoed throughout the room and the wind knocked out from Celeste’s chest, her arms instantly became slack.

Celeste snapped her head in her younger sisters’ direction who looked incredibly guilty. That little witch. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Eleanor promised that she wouldn’t have to see him during these meetings.

“Ah Vane, nice of you to finally join us” Eleanor piped up for the first time this meeting, Celeste’s burning glare making the younger girl a little nervous, “However you are almost an hour and a half late.” Vane closed the door behind himself and lazily dropped himself into the seat directly opposite from Celeste who was currently finding her shoes incredibly interesting. Vane however couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from her body. He pulled a cigar from his pocket and used one of the shorter pillar candles that were placed upon the table to light it, blowing out smoke as he did so.

Celeste wanted nothing more than for this meeting to be over so she retreat back to the safety of her ship. She hadn’t laid eyes on the man in nearly 6 years and she certainly didn’t want to start up again now. She hoped that she could just go unnoticed for the rest of this meeting like she had done for the first hour. That wish was, however, unlikely.

“Im here now, aren’t I?” Vane wanted a rise out of the young woman, she knew this, and she would rather die than give it to him. “ and if you had mentioned that your lovely sister were here Elenor, I would have quickened my pace.” He said very amused with himself while balancing the cigar between his lips. Celeste rolled her eyes, huffing to herself back into the corner of the room. She caught a glimpse of the traveling people outside on the street below and she envied all of them. They didn’t have to be in this sweltering box of a room with possibly the people she hated the most on the planet’s, “What were you fine gentleman, oh and I mustn’t forget, ladies, discussing?”.

One of the other captains stood, Captain Kane who was a ugly stick of a man, pointed at Celeste accusingly, which caused her to tear her eyes up towards him, scowling at him. “Captain Guthrie was just informing us that her and her crew, which might I had is almost entirely made up of women, have managed to make the most coin this past month. Which I highly doubt to be the case” He spat as he downed the rest of the ale that was left in bottle. Celeste scoffed loudly which didn’t by any means go unnoticed by the rest of the men. Suddenly felt a sharp elbow press into her side. To her side she could see her younger sister glaring, totally unamused.

“Ow! What the fuck was that for I’m not the one being a bigot” Celeste snarled at her younger sibling who was cautiously eyeing the other people in the room who were all now bickering amongst themselves. All except Flint and Vane. Flint was looking down towards his hands, looking at a small folded parchment paper in between his calloused fingertips. His tired face looked bored much like Celeste’s. Which is probably why they got along so well.

Vane, however looked entirely all too pleased with himself, like he had everyone where he wanted them. Celeste snapped her vision and locked eyes with the man, instantly regretting the choice when he smirked at her, to be perfectly honest she knew she would eventually run into her childhood friend again one day, it was just a matter of time. And unfortunately, her luck had run out. It would’ve been perfectly fine with her to never see the person who had ruined her life ever again. Vane, being as stubborn as he was believed that he had given the older Guthrie girl enough time to ‘get over it’ and now she was just being bitter.

“Would you at least try and act civil” Eleanor whispered as she leaned into Celeste’s side. Celeste ripped her gaze away from Vane and back to the window.

“Me being ‘Civil’ does not mean bowing down to every man in sight because it suits your needs.”

“This is exactly why father left me to run this business, you can’t see past your pride and into the future!”

“ No, father left you the business because you are his little pet. And might I had that you were also the only one here. I believe in creating my own worth not riding on daddy’s wealth and pretending that its my own.” Celeste angrily whispered back.

An evil grin formed on Vanes face, he could quite clearly see the rift between the two sisters and wondered how much more strain their relationship could handle before it cracked completely, “Convenient , because if that was true then that would mean that Captain Guthrie here probably had the help from her little sister, you know giving her the best tips for the most valuable ships, the biggest plunders. And that really wouldn’t be fair at all. Would it?” He stated matter of factly, tilting his head to see if his efforts had managed to anger Celeste. Which they definitely had.

“How fucking dare you!” Celeste sat bold upright in her chair, purposely turning her attention to Vane, “Since when was my crew and my ship being brought under investigation, maybe if you weren’t all drunks, or out whoring all the live long day, or you actually knew how to captain a goddamned ship, you would be spending your coin rather than watching me roll around in mine.” Celeste forcefully pushed the chair from underneath herself, not bothering to correct her dress this time. “now if you’ll excuse me, I have far better things to do with my time, like watching paint dry.” she hatefully spat before walking the short distance to the door and ultimately deciding that slamming it was her best course of action.

Pike laughed so weakly that it could have been mistaken for nasty chest infection, “see?” he pointed to the still rattling door, “this is why women can’t be in charge of anything, they are far too emotional” he said stroking the gruff on his chin.

Vane took everyone by surprise when he also abruptly stood, stubbing the end of his cigar out directly onto the table, avoiding the ash tray, “I suggest you shut the fuck up” his low gruff voice bellowed out before he too made his way to the door, leaving everyone else with a look of confusion on their faces. Eleanor knew that the two had a history, but she assumed that they would either pretend it never happened or Celeste would be the bigger person and not let his often-relentless teasing get the better of her, looks like she was wrong.

Celeste practically ran down the steps of the tavern wanting nothing more then to seek the safety of her nice cool cabin on her ship, surrounded by people who she can somewhat tolerate. At least her cabin had a bolt on the door, as Celeste marched through the maze of people and reached the street, she felt eyes boring into her. She had a pretty good idea of who it was which was why she was gradually picking up her pace. Celeste couldn’t deal this this right now, or ever to be perfectly honest, so she kept her pace until the beach came into sight. The heat at this point was almost unbearable and the layered long black dress was not helping the situation. She gathered the ends of her dress, exposing her bare legs, before jumping down off of the dock and onto the white hot sand.

Or the beach is where you can really see the split of people in Nassau as only Pirates dared show their faces down there, which made Celeste, who was a woman, a bit of a rarity. The only thing she hated more that Charles Vane was this beach, with all of its vagrants and criminals, however it was the only way back to her ship, so it was a necessary evil. Weaving in and out of the makeshift tents she eventually broke their density and to made it out to hear the gentle lapping of the sea against the sand.

Celeste could feel a mass amount of eyes piercing her figure as she shielded her own with her hand from the blazing sun. she ignored them like she always did and tried to locate her second in command Rosabelle who should have been waiting with their rowboat along with two of her most trusted men, Felix and Jack. No luck however, and she soon realized that they was barely anyone this far down the beach, not a single person was rowing out to the larger ships in port.

What the fuck is going on?

Slowly, Celeste turned her body to look to the left of her to inspect the rest of the beach, but she really wished she hadn’t. Stood there was Vane, both of his hands perched upon his hips has he squinted his ice blue eyes towards her, a smirk pressed against his lips. “Hello, Love. Its been a while.” His gruff voice spoke as he took a view steps closer, Celeste did not move, not under any circumstances. She was not going to be bullied by him a she certainly wasn’t going to give in to him. She would rather die.

She glared at him, “Not nearly long enough” she spat as she pushed past his broad shoulder as bolted past him. He wasn’t about to let her leave him standing on this beach, again, so he sharply turned and grasped onto her wrist. She jumped out of instinct and mentally scolded herself for doing so. She tried ripping her arm from her grasp but when she kept failing she began to walk again and to her surprise he didn’t try to stop her, instead he followed her like a child until they were back at the top of the beach.

“What the fuck do you want Vane, let me fucking go” Celeste shouted as she spun around to face him. Pushing him against a wall on one of the unsuspecting houses that lined the beach. Celeste had pushed him with just enough force for him to to let go of her wrist. A smile broke through on to his face, not a smirk but a genuine smile. This caused Celeste to immediately let go of his chest and retreat back a few steps before walking away again.

“You really must let your petty anger go love, its not attractive” vane said, hot on Celestes heals as she darted in and out of the various merchants. Celeste was not really sure what he was planning to gain from making her angry and though she hated to admit it was almost working.

“Its not attractive?, oh heaven forbid, will the gods ever forgive me?” she seethed as she quickened her pace anxious to escape Vane. This is why she didn’t want to see him again, he was being insufferable and didn’t show any signs of letting up soon.

Vane chuckled as he darted in front of her,quite effectively stopping her in the middle of the street., “neither is sarcasm” Celeste was finding it very difficult to not punch the man straight in the face, but she knew that would do little to nothing to change if persistency.

“I don’t give a fuck what you think of me Vane” Finally and totally stopping to move around him because it was basically pointless. Obviously her old find had something on his mind and he wasn’t about to let Celeste skip out of town until she had heard it.

Vane clicked his tongue and tilted his head to the side ever so slightly,“I highly doubt that” he said.

Unbeknownst to the squabbling pair below, Jack Rackam and Anne Bonny we’re watching in amusement from the balcony of an ale house directly opposite from them.

Jack let out a laugh as he leaned on the weathered wood of the railing as he cradled a half filled bottle in his hand. “ Oh Christ, is that Celeste Guthrie with Captain?” He questioned as he lightly lurched forward to get a better look. “ She does not look happy to say the least.”

“ She never looks happy, part of her’ charm” Anne said as she settled next to him, staring at the pair who had finally stopped.

Jack turned to Anne with a look of realisation on his drunken face. “ That’s right, you were a member of her crew a few years back if I’m not mistaken”, Anne rolled her eyes. “ How was that experience my love? Is it true that their are only down on their luck women to man the ship?” He stopped for a second before turning to gage his partners current mood before deeming that it was safe enough to carry on. “That hardly seems practical.”

“Hey Captain, ive been looking everywhere for you” Celeste whipped her head to see the extremely concerned look on Rosabelles pale face.

“oh thank god, Rosabelle, what is it?”

“you should probably just come and see this”

Various things were running through Celestes mind as she and her second in command lead her through the bustling streets of Nassau. However she was just happy to be rid of Vane. To be perfectly honest she hadn’t expected him to hound her like he had done.

Rosabelle led Celeste right back to the tavern, much to her dismay. Celeste could her sister pacing anxiously.

“What do you want now?” Celeste called out but was instantly taken aback when see saw tears rolling down her cheeks.

Elenor was wringing her hand in front of her “ it’s Aurora, she’s missing Celeste”

[fuckyeahscienceparty]

*quietly steps in* writing prompt........ one of them gets badly injured in a scenario where respawn is down. :) *quietly steps out*

ok this definitely isn't what you were expecting and i actually broke 2k w this one but. hoo boy. this was a beast to write. i hope it's worth a read :'>

-

Play Doctor

It's the final wave and everyone's just about ready to keel over, including and especially Medic. 

...Whoops?

-

After weeks upon months of battling the infernal things, the last wave of Grey Mann's robots had finally come. Miss Pauling had called in the night before, warning them that this was going to be the biggest one of all, but even then, none of them were quite ready for the sheer amount of metal men coming after their asses that day.

From the current trajectory, Engie could tell there were going to be almost, if not, a thousand of them, having stayed most of the wave on top of the building directly in front of where the robots came through with his Wrangler in hand and shotgun at the ready.

"Hey, Engie, you holdin' up aight?" Scout asked as he sprinted his way up the stairs and directly for the dispenser to pick up refill of bullets.

"Just about holdin' down the fort. How about y'all?"

"We're managin', I think! Doc's not lookin' too hot though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, we're tryin' to make it easier for him since he's literally like the only thing other than your dispenser keepin' us alive right now ever since respawn went kaput, but compared to him there's lots of us and even more robots so it's kinda hard to keep together 'n' stuff."

It was then that Soldier had let out a rather annoyed sounding "BIG ROBOT!" at the sight of a giant Heavy approaching, both Engie and Scout looking over when they'd heard him.

"And I think that's my cue! Thanks for the bullets, Hardhat!" Scout nodded at him, reloading his Scattergun before hopping down the stairs two at a time and running back in for a rumble.

Engie, meanwhile, looked out over the sea of crumpled dollars and miscellaneous robot parts, scanning the field before his eyes locked on Medic. Even though he was a little ways away from him, he could see what Scout meant, frowning slightly as he let go of the Wrangler's joystick so his sentry could pick off any robo Scouts that happened to make themselves a nuisance.

Medic looked both mentally and physically exhausted, but he was still running after everyone else at top speed, deploying his shield and uber as often as he could while making sure that anyone who died, no matter how far away, got revived as soon as he realized they were no longer breathing.

It was excruciating work and Medic had been doing it almost every day for at least the past 2 months, having been practically forced to sharpen and hone his skills when the respawn machine had finally decided to kick the bucket when they were in the middle of repairs.

As the rest of their teammates focused on getting the giant to its knees (Scout in particular going around and bullying the two robo Medics it'd been sent in with), Medic had deployed his shield and stood directly in front of the robo Heavy, slowly backing up as it made its way forward with the bomb on it's back with various teammates standing a ways behind him.

In his concentration to not fall over or let anyone get riddled with bullets, however, he didn't notice the Spybot that had crept up behind him, Engie's eyes widened as he yelled out a startled "MEDIC!" in an attempt to get his attention.

However, Medic could only barely hear him over the explosion of the giant, turning around only to get stabbed right in the back of his left shoulder and letting out a scream that made Engie's blood run cold.

Without even thinking, he activated his sentry's shield and grabbed his shotgun before flying down the stairs to his left and running directly to where Medic had fallen over, shooting the Spybot to death before turning his attention to his healer boyfriend.

"Hey sweetheart, you still with me?" Engie asked as he carefully picked up Medic and all his gear, only getting a pitiful gurgle in response as Medic coughed up some blood onto his sleeve.

"...Ok, on second though, just don't talk," He grimaced as he hurried his way back up the stairs, carefully laying Medic on his side in front of his dispenser and unclipping the Medipack to reduce the stress on his body.

In the meantime, there seemed to be a reprieve in the number of robots coming, most likely so that Grey Mann could get ready to send out whatever final punishing attack he had stored up his sleeve. The rest of the team made quick work on the stragglers before making their way back to resupply one final time as Engie reached for some of the supplies he kept in the dispenser, pulling out a towel, a vial of healing gel, bandages, and medical tape.

"Alright, I'm gonna take this little number out of your back now so you can actually heal up properly so uh. Sorry, in advance," Engie mumbled as consolingly as he could, Medic barely mustering enough strength to gurgle back before he was screaming in pain again.

"I know honey, I know, I'm sorry," Engie winced as Medic coughed and wheezed for breath, throwing the knife over the edge before applying pressure to the stab wound to lessen the blood flow while letting the dispenser do it's work in actually healing it.

When he started wheezing less, Engie let go and wiped his hands with the towel he took out so he could actually hold things. He then took the vial of healing gel, popped off the cap, ripped through a bit of Medic's clothing, and used the towel to soak up some of the excess blood before slathering gel on his still rather awful looking wound and covering it in bandages and medical tape.

He then readjusted Medic so that his head was in his lap, carefully pushing his hair out of his face and pushing his cracked glasses further up his nose so they wouldn't fall off.

"That a little better?"

Medic coughed a few times but nodded, attempting to sit up and reach for his gear only to collapse back into Engie's lap.

"Fuck. No, no, no, not now," Medic whined softly, Engie grimacing slightly.

"Sorry starry eyes, I don't think you'll be getting back up any time soon."

"I don't have a choice. They- they're going to get destroyed out there without me," Medic hissed, making another attempt to get up before Engie stopped him.

"Honey, you're exhausted. I was honestly surprised you were still standing before you got stabbed in the back but I think that was the tipping point that told your body to give up."

Medic didn't say anything for a few moments but Engie could see the deeply panicked look in his tired eyes as he tried to think of something he could do.

"I. I can't. They need a healer, what.. What am I going to do?"

Engie thought about it before taking a deep breath.

"I'll do it."

"...What??"

"I'll do it. II'll take your place until the wave is over."

"Engie... Are you sure? Do you really think you can keep up with them all?"

"Honey, I have no idea, but I know if you go in there again, you're going to die. Full stop. And if you die, everyone else is gonna follow after. Besides, I've worked on the Medigun enough to know how it works, and a rusty healer is better than no healer."

Medic seemed to mull it over before sighing, still obviously unhappy about the situation but a little less... reluctant."

"Ok. Alright. Fine."

"Yeah?"

"But... What am I going to do, then? I can't just sit here and watch you all suffer," Medic frowned.

An idea then came to Engie's head as he reached for the Wrangler (that he may or may not had carelessly thrown to the side before he'd gone to get Medic), offering it to him.

"Think you can still aim?"

Medic looked at both him and it warily.

"It won't fire at the team or nothin' if you accidentally point the beam at one of us. Safety's still on. And you could always just let go and let it autoaim if there ain't anythin' you need to focus."

He hesitated once more before sighing.

"...Alright. At least help me up so I can see them, though."

Engie nodded, handing it to him and guiding his hands to where they should hold it before moving him up so he was sitting up and leaning against the dispenser, legs dangling over the ledge of the building.

"That good?"

"Mm."

"Ok. I think they're gonna start back up soon so..."

Engie hurriedly went over to the small pile of Medic's gear he'd put down, removing his wrench from his pocket (but keeping his pistol), clipping the Medipack onto his overalls, and inspecting the Medigun's various apparatuses.

"This one's for uber, this one's for shield. This dial ups the intensity and this one activates crits," Medic said, leaning over a bit and pointing to indicate what he was talking about.

"I know that, I helped you upgrade it for Christ's sake."

"And I'm reminding you. You've never done this before and I'm worried," Medic insisted. Engie merely moved over to push his hair back again, giving him a kiss of the forehead.

"It'll be fine, Sunshine. I promise. Stop worryin' your pretty little head off."

Medic's expression softened.

"Well you've never given me a reason to doubt you so. Good luck, mein Lieber. And if we uh..."

"Yeah?"

"...If we. Fail. Or if one of us doesn't make it, I just want you to know that I love you. I really do. Please never forget that."

"I love you too, baby, more than you could ever know. And we're going to make it. I know we will."

Medic smiled weakly, managing to bap his head against Engie's softly.

"You should head over. The robots are coming any minute now, I know they're expecting me. Well. You, now, I suppose."

"Roger that, boss," Engie grinned playfully, bapping him back before standing up and making his way down the stairs and over to where the other 7 mercenaries were huddled in a group, trying to plan out their final attacks.

"...and I think there's gonna be another 4 tanks this time so we gotta- oh hey Tex!" Demo smiled, waving at him.

"Howdy, y'all."

"Engineer! Is good to see you but. Where is Medic?" Heavy squinted.

"Sorry big guy, but uh. Medic's out of commission for now."

"So then who's gonna..." Scout trailed off before realizing that he was holding the medigun.

"No way."

"Yeah way."

"You- you're gonna be Medic now?"

"It's either me or you die. Pick your choice."

"Well-"

Scout paused.

"Ok, that's fair actually."

"What's Medic doing then?"

Engie turned back to wave at Medic from where he was sitting on top of the building, fiddling with the Wrangler, the rest of the team turning to see him wave back.

"Huh. So you guys are switchin' places today?"

"In a way."

Before anyone else could say something, they were all silenced by the slight rumbling beneath there feet, looking over to the large carrier over the horizon.

"Well, enough chitter chatter. See you on the other side, everyone. I looked forward to our victory," Spy hummed before clicking his watch, disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

Sniper nodded to everyone before heading to his usual sniping area, the others forming a sort of spaced out wall across the battlefield with Engie front and center.

"Everybody ready?" He called out as he pushed the handle of the medigun down and hovered his finger over the shield switch, getting various affirmations and war cries in response.

However, they were once again cut off by the feeling of the ground rumbling, the last of the hordes came into view. First up was dozens and dozens of robo Scouts and Demos led by a rather large Pyrobot, everyone getting a proper grip on their weapons in anticipation.

Engie let out a nervous sigh before cracking his neck on both sides, flipping the shield on, and mumbling softly to himself.

"Alright, Dell. It's time for you to play doctor."

[anomander-dragnipurake]

Possessed Chapter Two: E. Gadd

Luigi’s phone started ringing, the tone signified it was E. Gadd. … Possibly calling about King Boo’s escape, too bad it was far too late to be of any warning to Luigi.

‘Oh! E. Gadd!’ King Boo said internally, his grin spreading across Luigi’s face. ‘Let’s see how well I can impersonate you, huh?’ He pulled the pone out of Luigi’s overall pocket. “Howdy.” Unlike the other times he spoke, his voice quivered a bit and well… he did sound a lot more like how Luigi normally talked. Not exactly but… the difference probably wouldn’t be very noticeable over the phone.

“Sonny,” E. Gadd said, apparently fooled. “I got news. First off, King Boo escaped again, whoops.” ‘Whoops’ indeed, if Luigi got out of this alive, he might be tempted to strangle E. Gadd for losing King Boo for a third time. “And your dog is here. He seems agitated about something; he won’t shut up. You know what’s up with him?” He seemed more concerned about Polterpup than he was King Boo’s escape. But at least, Polterpup had gone for help, right? … Too bad he couldn’t actually tell E. Gadd what was going on.

“W-what do you mean King Boo escaped?” King Boo put way too much fake terror into his voice. E. Gadd had to see past it and suspect something, right?

“I mean he’s out and about again, what else would I mean?” Apparently not. “He was there last time I checked but gone this morning, don’t know what happened. Hmm… actually that might be what your dog is trying to tell me. Maybe he knows where King Boo is! You should come over. Maybe we can find him again before he lays his next trap.”

King Boo’s grin widened. “O-kay, if you insist.” More fake fear, poorly disguising evil delight.

Luigi pushed against King Boo, trying with all his might to say something, to warn E. Gadd. … He failed and with an internal laugh, King Boo hung up.

His stride much steadier now after a couple hours of coordination practice, King Boo started for the door as he repocketed the phone. Outside, the sun was starting rise, a testament to the hours Luigi had already spent trapped in his own body. It felt like ages though. He’d never been this tired before, he wanted to lie down and sleep for a year but instead, King Boo piloted his body towards his car.

‘I’ve never driven a car before so this should be fun.’ King Boo said as he got into the driver’s seat. Oh dear…

If you crash, I swear I’m going to kill you. Luigi was having a bad enough time as it was without adding ‘dying in a car crash’ to it.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t. I can’t have you dying on me before we say ‘hi’ to Mario after all.’ Oh right, that was a thing… maybe dying in car crash wouldn’t be so bad after all. King Boo’s only response to that thought was a laugh.

 -

“The longer I spend piloting your stupid meat suit, the more I hate it,” King Boo complained about an hour later. “It’s gross and getting anywhere takes forever even with a car. We’d have been there forever ago if we could travel my usual way. How do you put up with any of this without going mad or wanting to die?”

Leave then if you don’t like it. Did Luigi dare hope that all the inconveniences that came with a body might be enough for King Boo to abandoned this horrid plan of his?

“Nope, not happening. I can endure it to make you miserable, I just don’t understand how or why the living put up with it.” Well, that wasn’t surprising, so much so it wasn’t even really disappointing.

Weren’t you alive once? Boos were a special type of ghost, right? So, even King Boo had to have been alive once upon a time.

“Yep. It was so long ago I don’t remember it though. Which I’m glad for because…” He made a strangled gagging sound, fully emphasizing his annoyance.

With an internal sigh, Luigi did his best to go back to zoning out like he’d been doing ever since King Boo taken a detour to the clothing store. He’d bought a fancy white suit that and purple tie that he said was far more fitting ‘gross overalls’. Which, with how his possession of Luigi affect his appearance, was true. He’d thrown Luigi’s clothes out completely.

 -

E. Gadd’s lab was all the way outside of town and a fair way away from it, thus it was another hour before they finally reached it. King Boo pulled right into the driveway, parking very crookedly and just barely managing to not hit anything. If he had though it might’ve given E. Gadd some warning that something was wrong but… it was too much to hope for.

King Boo didn’t bother ringing the bell or knocking, he barged right in. The front door wasn’t even locked; E. Gadd could really use some lessons on proper security protocols.

Inside, neither E. Gadd or Polterpup were anywhere to be seen. They’d probably be further in, in the lab proper with all of E. Gadd’s experiments. All this room had was his monitoring equipment. None of it was currently turned on which probably explained part of how King Boo managed to escape so easily and not be noticed until it was too late.

King Boo hated the place. His feelings for it were intense enough that he probably couldn’t have kept them from Luigi if he’d tried. He’d been held captive here three times so of course he hated it. It made Luigi even more nervous about this upcoming meeting though.

Please don’t hurt the professor. Luigi begged because there was nothing else he could do.

King Boo ignored him as he strode in and towards the lab proper. His coordination practice was unfortunately very successful even after a long car ride. It meant if things got violent a trip or a stumble probably wouldn’t save anyone.

Polterpup’s furious barking was audible a second before he burst out of the back room and into King Boo’s path, blocking him from entering the lab. King Boo looked down at him, raising an eyebrow in annoyance. Thankfully he made no move to hurt him though.

“What is it dog- … Luigi?”

King Boo looked back up to see that E. Gadd had followed Polterpup out. As always, his large glasses made his expression hard to read but his mouth was set in a confused frown.

“You’re half right,” King Boo said, turning his evil smile onto E. Gadd. He hated him almost as much as he hated Luigi. “But perhaps you might want to call us ‘King Booigi’ instead.” He laughed at his own bad pun.

E. Gadd made a wordless sound of surprise before ducking back into his lab. Hopefully he could flee out the back or… something. King Boo gave chase, stepping over Polterpup with ease because Polterpup wouldn’t attack as long as it would hurt Luigi too.

In the lab, E. Gadd hadn’t gone for the back door but a Poltergust instead. Dammit! … But maybe he could… It didn’t even turn on when he pressed the switch, making an empty clicking sound instead. King Boo reached him before he could sort out whatever the problem was.

Please don’t… Luigi’s desperate plea cut off as King Boo balled up a fist and punched E. Gadd in the face hard enough for it to hurt Luigi’s hand too. The sound of his nose breaking was audible, a wet crunch that sickened Luigi almost as much as feeling it give way beneath his fist did. His glasses broke too, bits of them cutting into his face and Luigi’s hand. He went limp and would’ve collapsed to the floor if King Boo hadn’t caught him by the neck.

No, no, don’t, no! Luigi begged as he started squeezing as hard as he physically could.

‘You know the best part about having hands? You can strangle people!’ King Boo’s glee and satisfaction was sickening but not nearly as much as the far too clear feel of E. Gadd’s pulse in Luigi’s hands.

His weak eyes fluttered open, focusing on nothing. He reached a hand up to paw at Luigi’s hands but there was little strength in it. His face was already starting to turn purple, his eyes bulging.

Stop! Don’t! Please don’t! Luigi strained and pushed against King Boo’s control of him with everything he had. … Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring both their vision before spilling over and his hands twitched, loosening their grip slightly for half a second, allowing E. Gadd to take in a tiny gasp of air before King Boo pushed back, tightening their grip again. Luigi had done something but… it wasn’t enough… he couldn’t…

Something launched itself into Luigi’s side, making King Boo lose his grip on E. Gadd’s neck out of surprise and sudden lack of balance as something bit down hard onto his forearm. They fell over in a heap, the biter on top. It hurt bad enough that it took Luigi a few seconds to realize it was Polterpup. He may be a ghost dog but his teeth, though rarely visible, were sharp enough to punch through the suit sleeve and deep into Luigi’s arm, drawing blood.

Before King Boo could try to push him off or attack him in anyway, he let go and jumped back to stand in front of E. Gadd who lay on the floor, clutching at his throat as he gasped for air. Polterpup placed himself squarely in front him, growling protectively, his teeth dripping with Luigi’s blood.

Even despite the horrible throbbing and spreading warmth in his forearm as blood oozed from it, Luigi couldn’t help but tremble and cry in relief. Until King Boo put a stop to it though with an internal growl as he fully reinserted control.

‘You’re pathetic. I can’t believe I ever lost to you! Crying and whimpering over a foolish old man who doesn’t even respect you.’

Please… please don’t… hurt him… please. Luigi lacked the strength to do anything more than beg. There was nothing he could. He was going to have to watch as King Boo killed Polterpup and then E. Gadd with his hands, meaning in a way, he’d be the one doing it, right? He couldn’t… that wasn’t…

‘First, Polterpup is already dead, I couldn’t kill him again if I wanted to. Second, I don’t kill dogs or any other animals, they’re too precious even if some of them are traitors.’ He glared at Polterpup.

… ‘Precious’? … King Boo had soft spot for animals?! What? … Luigi probably would’ve fallen into a fit of desperate laughter if he had the means to do so.

‘Everyone has a soft spot for animals, you fool! Even Bowser’s got a cat. I heard it had kittens recently too.’

“What do you… want?” E. Gadd said with a cough, his voice horse and barely audible over Polterpup’s continued growling.

With a huff, King Boo stood up. “If you free my boos and destroy all the equipment for containing them maybe I’ll you let live.”

“And Luigi?”

“He’s my puppet for now. You can’t do anything to me as long as he’s mine. Also, might I add, he’s still in here.” He tapped the side of his head. “Watching everything, feeling everything. He was quite distraught when I was choking you. If only you could’ve heard his whimpering and begging. It was everything I dreamed it would be.” He allowed himself a small chuckle. “So, what’s it going to be? You going to cooperate or am I gonna have to kill you.” ‘The only reason I’m letting off for now is because of the dog. I’ll find a way to restrain him if I have to though.’ It was a promise he hoped to keep. ‘Also though, I don’t know where he keeps my boos, he separated me from them this time. Having him release them is faster and easier.’

E. Gadd fumbled and using a nearby machine pull himself up to his feet. He leaned on it as he pawed at his lab coat for a few seconds before pulling out an extra pair of glasses to carefully place on his face with shaking hands and a small wince. “Fine, I’ll… free your boos.” He grimaced, looking away, all his usual jovial energy completely absent. He was obeying though, which hopefully meant he’d make it out of this alive.

“And destroy all your machines meant for capturing and holding them?”

“Yes,” E. Gadd replied through gritted teeth, his knuckles whitening as he clenched his fist.

“Good! I suggest you hurry up before I get impatient.”

E. Gadd glowered at him but moved to do as ordered almost immediately. He was alive though and really that’s all that mattered, hopefully he was smart enough to keep it that way.

[fan-writer02]

Howdy folks. So, I watched Rogue One the other day and sorta fell in love (aight I’m going to be honest, I’m pretty sure it is now one of my favorite Star Wars films of all time) and honestly, Jyn and Cassian are my new otp. So, naturally, I had to do the one thing the Rogue One fandom knows how to do best. Make an alternate ending. c: Enjoy.     (Also if you wanna go check it out over on Ao3 I’d greatly appreciate it thx <3) (Oh, and let me know if you want more ;))

Find hope where hope is not found

               Jyn stumbled back, trying to ignore the pulsing in her leg so she could stand up straight. Her blaster was long gone, leaving her defenseless. But if she had to fight Krennic with her bare hands she would. So she pulled her shoulders back and leaned forward, even as her heart fought to break free from her chest. For she was staring down the barrel of a blaster.

               The shot came, but the pain did not. She glanced down in confusion, wondering if the shot had sent her into shock. She had been told that could happen, where you don’t feel the initial pain until the adrenaline wears off. But no, there was no blaster wound. No blood. Nothing.

               She looked back up again, watching in shock as Krennic crumpled, a smoking hole in his shoulder. Her gaze went past him, and her heart finally stopped pounding against her rib cage. Now, it sunk to her stomach.

               Cassian was leaning against a beam, back heaving and eyes focused on her, as if he didn’t even see the man he’d just shot. In those short moments that their gaze held, she took him all in. Although, due to his body being half hidden by the pole he leaned against, she couldn’t tell where he was injured. But clearly, he was. Wavering, he looked like he was barely hanging on to consciousness. He still had his arms extended, his hands tightly fisting his blaster.

               She stumbled forward and half crashed half leaned against the control panels. Much to her relief, the files had loaded. They’d been successfully transferred. The relief that filled her was exhausting. A sort of sad bubbly feeling. They’d done it. They’d succeeded.

               She only prayed someone had been listening.

               She looked up at Cassian and flashed a smile. His blaster was still aimed at the unconscious Krennic, but his eyes were on her. He matched her smile with his own, albeit weak and laced with pain. He wheezed and slowly began lowering his arms, just before the blaster clattered onto the grate floor. She stumbled towards him and ducked under his arm before he could completely collapse.

               His breathing was ragged, she could feel it on her cheek. Still, she couldn’t find her voice, and it seemed he couldn’t either, for all he did was wrap an arm around her waist while his other grappled for her arm, which he gripped tightly. She looked towards Krennic, and moved to pick up Cassian’s blaster, fully prepared to finish the job. But Cassian stopped her, using his body weight to keep her from moving.

               “Leave it, Jyn, leave it.” He mumbled, his accent thick. She fell back, allowing Cassian to press his face against her hair, letting his choppy breathing calm her. He was right. There were other things to worry about.

               Like getting off this planet.

               She took one last look at Krennic, before turning and pulling Cassian’s arm over her shoulder. Together, they made their way towards the elevator, shuffling as an awkward three legged creature. With every step Cassian became more and more dead weight.. Both his legs were uncooperative, dragging them both down, and he had his left arm wrapped tightly around his chest. But the only signs of his discomfort was his breathing.

               “Do you think-“ He wheezed, and she craned her neck to look into his face. She was surprised to see he was already looking at her, a small smile teasing his lips. “Do… do you think anyone was listening?”

               She focused on placing one foot in front of the other, but she didn’t have to think twice before answering. She broke eye contact to look up at the cloudy sky above them, littered with a few scattered Imperial aircraft, but mostly smoke. “Yes. I do.” She had little energy to say any more, so she only shifted him, her heart skipping a beat at his shaky inhale. She pulled them into the elevator and helped Cassian to lean against the wall so she could focus on punching at the keypad, placing their destination for ground level.

               “Jyn.” Cassian muttered. At this point his accent was so thick, she could hardly make out what he was saying. She finished typing, and the door slammed shut. She turned and went to his side to grab his arm, supporting him. He murmured her name again incoherently, his eyes barely open.

               “Cassian, stay with me.” She said, too desperate to care that her voice quivered. She was done with being strong. Done with being careful and guarded. Her shield was down, but she did not care. Because for all she knew, Cassian could be dying.

               She moved closer, until their chest’s were almost touching. Cassian’s head was resting against the glowing wall of the elevator, his tired gaze resting on her, and she couldn’t help but lean forward. She lifted a hand and set it on his shoulder, trying to tell him what she wanted to say. She opened her mouth to actually voice her thoughts, to tell him “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m sorry about K2 I’m sorry we’re going to die I’m sorry-” but nothing came out. She shut her mouth again, feeling absolutely and utterly helpless.

               He surprised her by lifting his hand and grabbing the edge of her shirt, just above her collar bone. His look deepened, and for a moment, Jyn felt the world around them disappear. Like they weren’t in a shaking elevator, in a building on an island threatening to explode. Like their friend hadn’t just died. And for a minute, everything was okay.

               But the spell was broken when the elevator shook, nearly spilling them both onto the floor. She pushed away from the wall towards the panel, huffing a sigh of relief when the screen glared back at her “Ground 0”.

               She spun around and grabbed Cassian, trying to be somewhat gentle by pulling him against her. His side bumped against hers, and for the first time he let out a pained moan. She murmured a small, “Sorry.” but there wasn’t time to be careful. The doors opened, and the world outside only confirmed what she feared.

               The entire island was falling to hell.

               Ships were raining from the sky, along with bits of debris, and consequently, balls of flame comprised of broken parts from both the building towering above them, and the crashing ships. She pulled Cassian out of the elevator and across the sand, while he tried his best to help her. But he couldn’t seem to get his legs beneath him, which worried her more than she could say. But still, he didn’t complain, only pushed on in desperate attempts to match her sloppy steps.

               The wind picked up, grabbing at her shirt and hair. Sand began to swirl about them, getting into her clothes and her eyes making it almost impossible to see. She squinted, and swiveled, trying to find a means of escape. But when she turned, she stumbled, and for a moment forgot to breathe..

               On the horizon rose a plume of flame and smoke. A giant mushroom cloud, like the storms she’d seen back home, on the farm with her father and mother. One’s that flashed lightning and thunder. But this… this was clearly not a rain cloud.

               There’s something about staring death in the face that makes you lose all hope. Jyn fought back a cry as her knees went out, and both her and Cassian fell into the sand. He leaned against his hand, his other still holding his stomach, but he was looking up at the smoke.

               At their death.

               He fell back, twisting his body so he could see her better. She refused to meet his gaze, for she knew what she’d find there. It wasn’t like him to just… just sit there and do nothing. Unless he was giving up. And she wasn’t quite ready for that. Not yet.

               She wanted to live. So badly. More than that, she wanted him to live, too. She wanted them to live.

               She looked behind them, trying desperately to find anything that might look like a means of escape. A ship, a fleeing aircraft… anything. But all she could see through the flying sand was smoke and devastation.

               A hand grabbed hers, and she jerked her head to look at him. Cassian smiled wearily, and started to say something before turning away and coughing into his shirt sleeve. When he lifted his head, she was horrified to see the blood stain he left behind.

               “Your… your father…” he paused and swallowed. His hand squeezed hers, and he smiled again. “Your father would be proud of you, Jyn.”

               In that moment, Jyn had never felt such a strong desire to cry. And she never cried. She could count on one hand the amount of times she’d cried in the past five years of her life. But now, here, with death looming just a few miles away, and Cassian dying, she wanted to cry and scream at the world for being so cruelly unfair.

               She met his smile with one of her own, although it was tear filled. Because heck it all, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Death, at this point, was inevitable. So she let the tears fall.

               Cassian leaned forward, and his head met her shoulder. She moved closer to him, finding the strength to kneel up and pull him into her arms. His hands rose to press weakly against her back, another on her neck, and his nose tucked just under her ear.

               She could hear him breathing, and she tried to focus on that. The wind was picking up now, hot and dry. She knew it wouldn’t be long. Who knew this would be how she would die? On the beach of an imploding planet?

               She clung to him tighter, and honed in on his breathing. In and out, in and out. It was choppy, but steady. She let it drown out the noise around them. The sound of death.

               The wind picked up suddenly, and she knew. This was it. The sand was clawing at her face now, and she screwed her eyes shut. She prayed death would be quick about it. Not just for her sake, but for Cassian’s. He was shaking in her arms, his grip growing weaker. He was in pain, and if death was going to come, then she wished it would do it quickly.

               She gave up, and prepared to let the sand swallow her.

               But a hand suddenly gripped her jacket, none too kindly, and jerked her to her feet. She spiraled and sprawled on what she thought would be sand, but to her amazement, was actually metal. Metal that hummed beneath her with life and the promise of a roaring engine.

               She opened her eyes to see a figure dragging Cassian up the piece of metal which she realized was, in fact, a gangplank to a ship. She scrambled to her feet and crawled up inside the ship, not caring if it was Imperial or Rebel.

               We’re going to live. She thought fanatically. The idea was enough to make her giddy.

               The door slammed closed, and only then did she gather her wits. The man holding Cassian let him drop to the ground before rushing towards a door, not pausing to say anything before practically leaping into the cockpit, the sound of switches clicking and gears whirring the only things she could make out. After a quick assessment, she saw that she and Cassian were alone, with only the pilot as their companion.

               Cassian.

               She turned and crawled over to his side before helping him to sit up more comfortably. She thought about leaning him against the wall of the ship, but it was bent at an awkward level, and with how his ribs and who knew what else being messed up, she figured something softer would be better.

               So she positioned herself behind him, and slowly laid him to rest in her lap, with his back and head propped against her chest and shoulder. His head flopped, and his nose tickled her neck. Although having him unconscious worried her, she also counted it as a small mercy. At least he was blissfully unaware of any pain.

               She looked up when a curse was muttered from the cockpit. The ship shook, and she braced a hand against the wall.

               “Hello!?” She called, her voice a mere rasp. She swallowed and wet her lips before trying again. “What’s happening?”

               “Jyn! Hang tight, we’re breaking atmospheric pressure.”                

               Jyn fell back with relief, a small laugh choking her. Bodhi. It was Bodhi, he’d found them.

               “You have no idea how happy I am to hear your voice.” She called, not sure if he could hear her or not. When she didn’t get a reply, she remained silent, figuring he could concentrate better without her distracting him.

               Instead, she looked down at Cassian, and brought her hand away from the ship’s wall to push back his hair. It was filled with sand, but worse than that, his forehead was layered with sweat. She let her hand rest there, worrying when she realized how warm he was. The blood on his sleeve caught her eye, and she wondered what interior damage he’d sustained to cause him to cough blood. She struggled to remember her basic lessons as a child. Gerrera hadn’t cared much for her schooling, so whatever knowledge she had was from experience or what her mother had told her.

               Coughing up blood. The lungs. A punctured lung? What do you do for a punctured lung? She looked down again, focusing on Cassian’s chest. Each breath was irregular and wheezy, his chest shaking with each rise and fall. His chest was definitely messed up.

               The ship careened, forcing Jyn and Cassian against the wall. Cassian’s weight pressed her already injured leg against the ship, and she bit on her lip to keep from screaming. The adrenaline was slowing wearing off, and with it came pain.

               The ship jerked and visibly dropped, leaving her stomach behind. “Bodhi?” She cried.

               “We’re out! We’re out!” He whooped, accompanied by more clicking and beeps from the ship's controls. She heard his quick steps, then he appeared in the cockpit’s doorway. “We’re safe, guys.” He breathed, a wide grin splitting his face. “Well, for now anyhow.” He moved towards them, pausing to search through some supplies in an overhead bin.

               She noticed he favored his right leg, but other than a few minor cuts and bruises, he looked to have escaped mostly unscathed. For the utmost time that day, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. At least one of them had escaped without any fatal injuries.

               Speaking of which.

               She pulled Cassian a little bit closer. “Is there a med kit on board?” The thought only then occurred to her that they were on a strange ship, not the one they’d come to the island on. An Imperial ship? If she was more aware, she might be able to figure it out. But her mind was so muddled, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. It was a ship, and it had gotten them off of Scarif, and that was enough for her.

               Bodhi pulled out a metal box from the bin, not bothering to shut it before making his way to the spot where Jyn and Cassian lay. He crouched beside them and opened the box, pulling out different medical equipment and passing them to Jyn, who only stared at them. She had no clue what she was doing. She’d been hurt in the past, but she’d merely slapped a bacta patch on it and called it good. There was only so much a small bacta patch could do for internal damage, especially something so bad it caused Cassian to cough blood.

               “What do I do?” She asked, picking up a cylinder. She pulled off the plastic covering, and realized it was a needle.

               Bodhi was busy peeling off bacta patches, but gestured towards his arm. “Just stick it in his arm. It’s an injection and should help wake him up and ward off some of the pain.”

               She didn’t hesitate to jab it into Cassian’s skin, right through the cloth of his shirt. Once all the clear liquid inside the needle was gone, she pulled it out and tossed it aside, before looking back up at Bodhi for further instructions.

               “Where’s he the most hurt?” Bodhi asked, a quiver finding its way into his voice. He looked up, and she realized he was just as nervous as she was, although there was a hardness behind his eyes. She trusted him.

               “I-I’m not sure. He fell in the tower, hit his back and chest. He couldn’t walk and he was coughing up blood-” She looked down at his sleeve.

               “Oh.” Bodhi whispered, following her gaze. His hands were shaking. “Oh.”

               “What do we do? I think he has a punctured lung.”

               “T-take his shirt off.”

               Jyn hastily unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it away, revealing his chest. She swallowed thickly at the sight of multiple bruises and deep discolouration along his entire rib cage. And that wasn’t the most concerning part. Because she could see the bumps beneath the skin, no doubt hiding broken ribs.

               Bodhi began pressing bacta patches on the worst of the bruising, before leaning back on his heels and pressing his palms against his knees. He exhaled deeply. “Anything else?”

               Jyn carefully leaned Cassian forward, wincing when his head flopped forward. But she wanted to check his back, because she had no doubt that falling on a metal beam had to have some effect on his spine. At that thought, it dawned on her that that could be the reason why he’d been unable to walk. Perhaps his spine had sustained some damage…

               She pulled up his shirt, and sucked in a sharp inhale. His lower back was nothing but one massive bruise, and along his spine was red and swollen. Bodhi leaned forward and hissed at the sight, his tongue clicking anxiously.

               “Oh no. Oh no oh no, that’s…” Bodhi paused and caught himself before he could say any more.

               “Bacta. Quick.” Jyn barked, and both she and Bodhi wasted no time in pressing the patches against the worst of Cassian’s spine. Once done, she peeled off her jacket with some difficulty, seeing as how Cassian was still half laying in her arms. Once done she spread it on the ground, and Bodhi went to get a blanket to spread over top of it. Between the two of them, they managed to lay Cassian on the makeshift bed. It wasn’t great, and she had a feeling that with the state of his back, he should not be lying on a hard surface, but it was the best they could do.

               Bodhi stuttered that he was going back to check on their stats, before disappearing into the cockpit, leaving her alone. She adjusted herself until she was leaning against the wall, next to Cassian's head. She studied him, trying to calm down and finding it very difficult to do so. Her mind kept drifting to the fact that they had almost died. They’d been so close to death. She practically touched it.

               Her mind drifted to Kay. She hadn’t been half as close to the droid as Cassian had been, but still, he’d been a friend. One of the few she’d ever had. And he’d sacrificed himself for them- for her father’s cause.

               And what had happened to Chirrut and Baze, Jyn had no idea. If they’d survived the battle, there was a slim chance they’d made it off the island before it exploded. And she’d been so absorbed in Cassian she hadn’t thought to ask Bodhi. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. For now, she’d rather have the small sliver of hope in the fact that they might be alive.

               She looked back down at Cassian and dwelled on that for a minute. Hope. Something Cassian practically lived for. She closed her eyes and smiled, regardless of their current situation. To some it might seem pretty hopeless, with Cassian practically lying on his deathbed and Bodhi trying to find a way to get an Imperial ship to a Rebel base. But the plans had made it out, they were alive (albeit barely) and as long as they had that, Jyn figured there was still plenty of hope.

[thegc4life]

*in Dabi voice* That so? How sad, poor little WyvernSpirit. Hawks with prosthetic legs is a concept that has haunted me too. Maybe above the ankle, but below the knee? Amputation 😔 there I said it directly. Last page of chapter 267, doesn't Hawks' leg look kinda long and weirdly detatched 'cause of the angle and being hidden behind Tokoyami's hand?

    Anonymous said:

    Continuing. Common known fact: When Wyvern gets stuck on a concept they really fall down that rabbit hole hard. - Sincerely, the anon that placed helicopter sound effects over Keigo's feetsies. (Hint: Helicopters are chop-chopping :)

--00--

Okay. OKAY. You lot! ALL of you! Do you know what you have done to me?! I have thought about this, relentlessly! I have nit, I have picked, and I have formulated plans and you have given me horrible, horrible ideas! That I am implementing now because god damn it you’ve infected me with- with the chop-chopness! All of you! 

@stitchthepaleontologynerd I haven’t gotten to your ask yet, it’s coming up boy howdy, but you’re included in this! 

How dare! How daaarrreee!

Now you get to suffer with me! Look at what you’ve done! Look at it!

(For all you lovely doves *side-eyes the wrong-doers* that are not horrible influences, if you do not want any spoilers for Hawks-sensei do not read below the cut. It is a detailing of a trauma I was planning to use but is now so much bigger, so much WORSE, and will pop up in later chapters as the same flashback styles as I’ve had already. Warnings for verbal and emotional manipulation as well as threats of physical abuse. It’s sad. You’ve been warned.)

So...

Originally planned: We all know (unless our minds were tired and blended that one little speech bubble that showed up a total of one time) that Hawks was trained in negotiation tactics, verbal manipulation, and such. Head Canon wise, in the story I was going to have it that as he grew up Hawks could, technically, ask for anything he wanted and get it but he needed to make a compelling argument for why he should be allowed to have what he asked for (hint: he often failed these until he stopped asking for things that were ‘useless’). I was going to hint at this, here and there, to do that slow build horror that is so prevalent in the Hero Commission.

And then Chop-chop happened.

So. Now there is this.

Hawks keeps failing his negotiation training outside of training scenarios. His trainers and the President wanted him to keep asking for things so that he could learn how to manipulate and negotiate at the drop of a hat. But whenever he asked for things it was always ‘silly little things’ like going outside for a bit to fly, or to get something that actually tasted good instead of all gross food he was served for every meal, or to be able to take his Endeavour doll with him to training so that it could watch on and give him encouragement.

You know. Silly things.

He always failed these because he could not come up with a strong enough argument for why he should be allowed to do these things.

So they got... a little mean.

Longer training hours. He was always given the choice of not staying later than usual, so long as he could provide a ‘valid’ argument to his trainers why he didn’t need to work harder. ��I managed that new aerial trick three times in a row with no mistakes’ he would say. ‘Yes, but you messed up the other one halfway through’ they would say. And he would tell them that it was new, of course he didn’t get it down right away. And they would say, ‘exactly, so we need to train more.’

Eventually, Hawks would get to the point where he would say ‘I need to be able to stretch my body in a certain way to make that move. I should go to my room and practice stretching like that. I will have it perfected next time.’

And they praise him for good thinking and say ‘yes, Hawks, that is a good idea’ and he gets all happy because Praise, and he goes from training with them... to training in his room as though he managed to convince them of anything.

He makes progress. He gets better at speaking, and manipulating, and redirecting. But not fast enough. Not good enough.

So they step it up a bit.

“Your feet’ they tell him. They are unnatural. They affect how you walk, how you stand, they look odd and lethal. He is supposed to be a comforting figure, he can’t be like that if he as talons that could rip off someone’s arm.

They’ll just have to go.

Hawks, understandably, freaks the fuck out. He doesn’t want to have his talons surgically removed. To have his feet braced and wrapped until they were re-formed into a ‘normal’ foot. To have anything they were telling him.

He argues with his trainers. Screams at them for the first time in the two years (because yes, he is still very young) he’s been here. He leaves without permission. Goes to his room. Screams and shakes and holds his Endeavour plush while praying the real thing will come save him.

In comes the President.

‘Hawks,’ she says, long after he has exhausted himself and is just staring blankly at the wall. ‘I heard what happened. You don’t want the surgery, do you?”

And of course he doesn’t, who would want that?

“I understand’ she says, and Hawks believes her because she always seems to understand more than he does but he doesn’t want her to this time because when she understands him she makes him understand her.

Which is exactly what she does.

She tells him why she thinks it is a good idea to get the surgery. While he is exhausted, empty, and numb she tells him all the horrible things in the world people see and how his feet might seem scary. She gives statements, but they seem... weak? They are less substantial than usual.

“The surgery will be next week,” she tells him and he breaks and he breaks and he breaks.

“Unless.”

Unless he can convince them otherwise. Unless he can negotiate. Manipulate. Make them see things his way.

“I want you to be happy, Hawks,’ she tells him, using the pads of her fingers to brush his hair out of his face before she goes and he leans into the warmth and wants, wants, wants. “If you think there is a different way, that there is something that should be done differently, all you have to do is tell us. You’re a smart boy. If you really think your feet are fine as they are, then there must be a reason they’re like that right? You just have to tell us what it is.”

So he tries.

Day one, he fails. They take x-rays of his feet for the doctors to look at while they prepare. ‘I’ll never walk the same’ isn’t a good enough reason when they have specialized physical therapists there to make sure that he will.

Day two, he fails. His handler tells him the time he was scheduled for. Early in the morning, right after he wakes up. “It will slow down my training,” isn’t good enough either. ‘you’re a fast learner’ is praise he always wanted before, and now all it is is a bullet in his lungs.

Day three, he fails. They use a practice dummy to help teach him how he is going to have to wrap his feet when everyone else is too busy to help him. “It’s going to hurt” and “I’m scared” are not the reasons of a hero. He’ll get over it.

Day four, he fails. No one brings it up that day. There is an entry on his calendar though. Circled. Blatant. He doesn’t argue that day. He doesn’t know what to say.

Day five, he fails. He asks his trainers if there is any way for him to use his feet, as they are, as a hero. They tell him they have never worked with avian based quirks before, how could they possibly know if his talons would be useful? He snapped at them, saying they did just fine telling him how to use his feathers when no one else in the world had the same quirk as he did. He had to do extra laps that day, until he was too tired to argue anymore.

Day six, the day before the surgery, the President comes to visit him again. He stayed up all night, even with how exhausted he had been, because this was his last chance.

“I can keep them covered,” he tells her. Tells the room. The faces that hold the decision in their hands. “I have to wear shoes outside anyway, it’s easy to keep them covered. They help me balance in ways most people can’t. It makes me a better fighter. If I run out of feathers, I will still have a weapon. A last resort. I can learn to walk normal. It will be easier to learn with feet I am used to then ones created for me. My toes are flexible and strong. If I train them I can use them in emergency situations to save more people. What if my arms are broken? My feathers gone? I can still use my feet to evacuate people.”

More, and more he talks. He tells them everything he can possibly think of that make his feet an advantage instead of an anomaly. He doesn't’ say ‘I like them’ or that he likes to curl his toes around the bottom bars of his bed when he has a nightmare. He doesn’t tell them that he likes the feeling of the tiles beneath his talons as they ‘click, click’ when he walks. He doesn’t tell them that they help him perch and that he’s afraid if they take them he won’t be able to do that anymore and he doesn’t know if he could handle losing that too.

His trainers look thoughtful. His handler is nodding.

The President smiles.

After everyone has left she gives him a hug. It’s small, and stiff, but he feels like crying.

“I am proud of you, Hawks,” she tells him. “Keep this up.”

And when they talk about his hands, he wins. When they talk about his staring he doesn’t... he doesn't win but he gets a compromise. A visor, to hide his eyes. When they talk about his sharp teeth, he almost loses but then he wins and the President smiles at him again. She doesn't’ hug him, that time, but he’s too old for that now so it’s okay.

When he’s sixteen, he knows he’s gotten really good at it. Because they try to take his Endeavour doll away. And it makes sense, because it’s- it’s a toy. Of course he doesn’t need it when he’s sixteen. He’s surprised they hadn’t tried to take it sooner. But he’d prepared for this, he knew his trainers and his handler well by then and he talked circles around them until they forgot what they asked in the first place. He got them refocused on training, on stats, on preparations and then he made sure it was always out of sight so they never brought it up again.

The President asked him, once, if he still had it. He shrugged, asked about how his results in his last combat simulation were, and she had looked so unimpressed that he knew she had known. But she hadn’t said anything. Because most of the time, if he managed to convince everyone else, she would let him keep something.

And he was grateful.

--00--

Look what you monsters have done. T-T I hope you’re happy! 

Seriously though, you guys just love giving me the angst thoughts. Like, dang. I love and hate it. I still love YOU of course, but I hate the evil thoughts you give me! Please continue! But don’t!

[testedtommyau]

Tested Tommy: Act 1, Scene 1 (part 1)

“Howdy.” Gordon greeted, not particularly to anyone but just acknowledging the two guards in his field of vision.

Benrey felt their heart freeze, a harsh beat lodged into their throat when they finally laid eyes on the main man, he was gorgeous, sure he may have had most of his body in a HEV suit but the Freeman’s head was showing and that was enough as far as Benrey was concerned. Benrey’s eyes followed after Gordon, their brain still in the moment-

Oh wait!

They had a job to do! Benrey shook their head and got back with the program, the now guard hurried over to Freeman before he could go through the door, which interrupted the guard preparing to open the door.

“Hey.”

“W-what? Huh?” Gordon paused in his tracks and turned around to face Benrey.

“Um, what’s wrong sir?” Gordon asked.

Shit, what were they supposed to say? Benrey had to quickly think, was it okay to say ‘I have to come with you’?

No, no that’d be too suspicious, right? Got to think of something a security human would say.

“Can I see your, passport?” That was something Benrey was sure they’d need to ask, got to ensure Gordon was who he says he is, can’t have some impostor taking the job. Benrey grinned confidently and nodded their head while standing in front of him.

“My passport? What do you mean my, like a company ID?” Gordon asked, clear confusion in his tone. Benrey gulped silently, shit was that wrong? Maybe the other guard had some idea. Quick to turn around, Benrey scooted over to the other guard who seemed too tired to be dealing with this shit today, Benrey leaned in close and whispered.

“He doesn’t have his passport.”

The guard let out an angry sigh and ignored Benrey, hoping it’d make them go away. Benrey had to think of something quick! With an idea, Benrey turned back to Gordon.

“Yeah uh, he’s tellin’ me that you’re not allowed in here.” Benrey started to explain but was interrupted by Gordon’s laugh, it’d be nice to listen to when he’s not being rude and interrupting.

“Heh, I, I don’t have a passport!” Gordon repeated, “I have uh, I have my black mesa ID-“

“Look at how upset he’s getting-

L-Look at his fists! They’re balled.” Benrey butted in, their brain coming up with a plan to ensure they can stay by Gordon’s side for the testing. Gordon stared at the scenery in utter disbelief and confusion, another nervous laugh escaped at the bizzarness of it all.

“He wants to beat you up so bad.” Benrey said, the other guard glaring at them, a look that most would identify that it was BENREY he’d be closer to wanting to beat up.

“He’s clenching?” Gordon chuckled, he tried to get out more words but only ended up in stutters as Benrey kept on talking over him.

“I’m gonna have to, I’m gonna have to protect you from him!” They announced, yes, yes be Gordon’s personal guard!

“I’m gonna have to follow you around.”

“O-Okay?” Gordon managed to get out, he just wants to go get his job done in peace.

“and protect you from him.” Then they can ensure everything goes smoothly, but oh, oh that guard does look rather mad, oh no what if he does end up trying to beat him up? Can’t have that.

“I’m not any danger to him, I’m in, I’m in the fucking HEV suit.” Gordon argued, while Benrey kept trying to say something, stopping their line of speech, Benrey looked back at the frustrated guard.

“Oh, he’s so upset right now.” Benrey pointed out as Gordon continued to argue about him being in the company suit, so? Doesn’t mean shit, they’re in the guard suit and blending in, maybe he’s doing the same. Not the point though, focus Benrey.

“I’m gonna, gonna have to sooth him, calm him down.” Benrey said, Gordon staring at them both and eyes widening as Benrey let out a note, blue balls shooting out their mouth and at the other guard, the guard’s face changing to a more calming look, and a little out of it if he was honest.

“What, what the fuck was that?” Gordon asked, Benrey looked over and gulped.

“Uhh, that’s how we calm each other down, that’s the uh, Black Mesa sweetvoice.” Benrey replied,

“You, you blow balls in his mouth?” Gordon questioned, Benrey just gave a little nod.

“Right, I got to go to the test chamber, am I being held up here? I kinda need to go do my job.” Gordon asked, slowly trying to walk out and distance himself from whatever the fuck this was. Benrey quickly went back to his side.

“No no, I’ll follow you just in case he tries to, come and beat you up.”

Okay seems fair enough.

“Oh, and I also want your passport.”

Gordon let out another laugh at that, Benrey tilted their head.

“Please?” They tried again.

“I don’t have! I don’t have my passport! Look at my chest!” Gordon said, Benrey did so, damn. Nice. Benrey kept looking, maybe he was hiding i-

Oh, Benrey’s eyes laid on something that probably isn’t meant to be out.

“Uh, bro you.”

“I’m literally suited up!”

“Bro, ahem please you uh.”

“Every scientist in the fucking building is rushing me to go to the test chambers.”

“Can you, can you listen please? Please and thank you? Bein’ a little rude here.”

“What!?”

“Yo dick out.”

Gordon froze up and stared at Benrey, Benrey looked casually at him, like it wasn’t something weird at all but still something they seem to understand is a thing to point out.

“I, what?” Gordon asked.

“Your dick out, its uh, hangin’ out bro, tryna impress anyone?” Benrey kept going, they were wondering why Gordon seemed so surprised by this, was he having it out on purpose? Maybe he’s in shock from something so embarrassing? Benrey knelt down and popped the dick back into the HEV casing, Gordon blushed hard and quickly closed the hatch.

Benrey felt a little proud, now he won’t have to deal with anyone else noticing his embarrassing dick-slip.

“So, uh… so you’re coming with me?” Gordon asked, hoping to change the subject, luckily it jolted Benrey back into the task at hand.

“Yeah, I have to come with you, I’m sorry.”

“Okay…”

“I need to get your passport.” Benrey stepped closer, the two of them near touching faces.

“Um, yeah… yeah sure buddy…”

Buddy, Benrey felt their heart swell at that.

“I’m sure one will be here somewhere, something that’ll make you happy, and uh, make him happy. Kinda scared of him.” Gordon said, rubbing the back of his head. Benrey turned to look at the other guard and shrugged.

“Well uh, he’s, he’s never happy. Oh wait, hold on.” Benrey went over and gave the guard another dose of sweet voice, hoping it’ll keep him happy. Benrey turned back and saw Gordon had already left without them!

Well shit, that was rude but now they have to find Gordon! It was their job after all.

-

Tommy headed to position, the time has almost arrived, his hands shook in excited anticipation while alone- wait a minute. Tommy looked to the orange figure in his vision and noticed Gordon Freeman. Alone. Where was Benrey? Did he hurt them!? He better not have, Tommy let out a sigh and should get acquainted to the man to ensure he doesn’t get off track by too much. Making him late should make him more determined to get the test done. Tommy watched Gordon for a minute, the man seemed a bit… stressed? Hm, humans are sensitive things, he guessed they would be rather prone to it.

Gordon let out a sigh of relief at the quiet. Finally getting back on track after his run in with Benrey.

“Hello?” Tommy approached him, cautiously getting close enough that Gordon could see it was him talking.

“Hello?” Gordon responded, looking over to him. Tommy raised his eyebrow, staring at the shorter man. He doesn’t seem capable of hurting Benrey, they were probably fine. Maybe got distracted.

“Um, hey, who are you?”

“M-My name’s Tommy.”

“Tommy?”

“Yes, t-t-there something wrong with that?” Tommy asked rather aggressively. Gordon gulped and stepped back a bit.

“Okay man jeeze, was just making sure.” Gordon replied, Tommy didn’t believe him, he could see in Gordon’s eyes that he had an issue with the way his name was. Humans, so judgemental.

“So uh, what, what department are you in?” Gordon asked, only to be met with a stare, what was this little man’s problem? Why does he need to know?

“Hmm…” Tommy put his hands in his pockets, not liking how Gordon was already judging him.

“Everyone’s been so pissed off at me today I just... want to get my work done…” Gordon muttered under his breath, but didn’t go unheard by Tommy.

“Uh, you heading to the break room?” Gordon continued. Tommy was thinking of grabbing a soda on the way, he nodded.

“Y-y-yeah, I like the read the billboards there.” Tommy added, talking about interests is a way to initiate positive human interaction, right? Since this ‘Gordon’ wasn’t doing a good job but he seems pretty upset, guess he has to do it himself.

“The, the billboards in the break room?” Gordon asked, Tommy nodded.

“Y-Yeah, follow m-me.” Tommy turned around and walked to the breakroom, Gordon made an attempt to protest but decided against it and followed. Well, he had the decency to be polite and show interest. That was something.

The two reached the break room and headed to the billboards, the words blurry and impossible to read.

“Why do you like reading this?” Gordon asked.

“It’s amusing how b-b-bad they screwed it up, t-t-tell me what it says.” Tommy said with an amused smile with smirky half lidded eyes, seemingly more impressed by the stupidity of whoever wrote this shit.

“I can’t read that either dude.” Gordon chuckled, good, at least he knows its not just him that finds this ‘writing’ a waste of paper and billboard space.

“Right uh, I have to- Are you staying here?” Gordon asked.

“Y-Yeah I’m on… Lunchbreak.” Tommy lied, he had to head to the testing soon but he didn’t want to make Gordon suspicious.

“Oh okay, I’ll catch you later Tommy.” Gordon said, giving the man a smile. Tommy didn’t smile back, but his stern eyes softened slightly as Gordon left, then he excitedly noticed the can of his favourite soda.

“I-I have soda for lunch!” He announced, taking it and heading to keep his watch on Gordon. Maybe this guy wasn’t so bad-

“Okay apparently he drinks soda for lunch, what a freak, what the fuck was that.” Gordon mumbled. Tommy stopped for a moment then scowled at him. He felt anger boil up inside him, he was drinking a perfectly normal human drink and he still gets called a freak!? What the fuck do these humans want from him!? Tommy angrily stormed off to the direction of the control room, shoving away any scientist that dared go near him.

Tommy felt a body crash against his, ready to punch them he paused, oh it was Benrey. Tommy steadied Benrey and asked if they were okay.

“’M all good bro just, just lost that Freeman guy gotta, gotta go catch him, he’s without his passport.” Benrey said.

“H-He went that way, y-you should hurry after him. I’ll m-m-meet you in testing.” Tommy replied, Benrey nodded fast and gave Tommy a hug before rushing after Gordon.

Tommy decided to keep a watch on them at first, to make sure Gordon doesn’t hurt his dearest friend, he’d never want anything to happen to them. Tommy crawled through the walls, his body a mist of yellow and specks like electricity going through wires, he listened in as Benrey rambled Gordon’s ear off, the man should feel lucky to bask in Benrey’s company, life was never boring with that special alien-

“It’s okay bro, I’m, I’m not human.”

Tommy’s eyes widened, Benrey just, Benrey just let that slip!? How could, how could they be so casual about that! Gordon could report them at any moment! He’s a human, all they do is hurt others.

And yet, Gordon does nothing, he continued to be rather annoyed but, it was as if being ‘not human’ wasn’t an issue. Tommy shook his head, he must be imagining things, or something. He decided he was taking too long and that Benrey was capable of handling themselves, he zipped out the wall and went on his way.

-

Tommy reached to the controller room, relieved to see Dr Coomer waiting in there too.

“H-Hey H-Harold.” Tommy said, Dr Coomer looked over and grinned widely.

“Ah! Hello Tommy!” Coomer gave Tommy a firm handshake as the two got to the controls.

“Oh Tommy, have you met Bubby?” Coomer asked, pointing towards the old man beside them.

“He’s just been released from the tubes!”

“O-Oh. D-d-didn’t that happen a w-week ago?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah and it fucking sucks.” Bubby complained. “Now I have to deal with this fucking asshole who argues with everything and is doing the test, I bet he’s going to fuck it up.”

Tommy liked this guy, can see the reality of how flawed humans are and Coomer likes him, that’s always a bonus.

“HOW THE FUCK!?”

All three paused and looked down at the chamber doors opening, Benrey already inside and Gordon throwing his hands about, freaking out about something.

“Hello?” Tommy said over the intercom, genuinely confused on what the fuck was going on.

“Oh great now Tommy’s here, uh…”

“Tommy!” Benrey called out, Bubby looked over to Tommy.

“Tommy do you know this man?”

Gordon looked over at Benrey. “You know him? You know Tommy?” Benrey looked back at Gordon.

“Yeah he’s uh, he’s my best bud, greatest, always hangin’ out.” They then turned back to Tommy’s direction.

“TOMMY!” Benrey called out louder, wanting the other’s attention. Tommy was quickly becoming overwhelmed and only managed a “Hi.” In response.

“Tommy did you hear, Gordon didn’t bring his passport!”

Tommy looked over at Dr Coomer with a raised eyebrow, he guessed Benrey’s now started a thing about passports, well, if it makes his Benny happy, he’ll play along. Especially seeing Benrey let out some pink sweet voice balls, pink and bright, they’re feeling neat and right.

“I heard you don’t have your passport!” Tommy said, Bubby facepalming at how Tommy worded it. Tommy glared at the old man but went back to watching Benrey and Gordon, with… whatever the fuck they were doing? Gordon was talking to Benrey and trying to push them out, but he knows they’re not human? The radiation won’t do a whole lot. Tommy watched carefully, they were stalling now, was Gordon trying to not do his job?

“Look at all the buttons in there.” Benrey said, clearly now distracted, Gordon and Benrey continued to chat on the buttons but then Gordon said something that made Tommy see red again.

“How about you get in? You’ll be safer there.”

The audacity of this scum. Trying to get Benrey hurt. Tommy’s eyes flashed golden yellow for a moment, he had to take a deep breath to keep his composure, Benrey will be fine.

“Acceptable losses!” Bubby said over the com. Tommy gave him a slap on the face.

“No, its n-n-not!” Tommy snarled, Coomer got between them both.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen! Please no fighting on the job!” Coomer said, Tommy crossed his arms and kept watching from the screen, Gordon had reached the top of the chamber, Benrey following quickly behind him. Tommy watched Benrey, they looked… so invested? The way they were staring at Gordon, grinning like he was some priceless artefact. It caused a tightness in Tommy’s chest to watch, though soon he was distracted by Gordon activating the machine, finally getting back to work. Tommy sighed and watched as Benrey and Gordon made their way down, only to soon be back to bickering. Tommy facepalmed himself and let out a small groan, can this human just stop getting so mad at Benrey? They’re trying their best here.

“M-Mr Freeman?” Tommy called over the microphone, the two stopped and looked up at him.

“What?”

“D-d-do you see the next s-step?” Tommy asked, his patients getting more strained.

“Um, yes, yeah I do we have to push the sample into the lazer?” Gordon replied, Tommy watched as the sample was now in place.

“Yes.”

Bubby shoved Tommy to the side to get to the mic.

“Do it VERY carefully!”

“I will, I will.” Gordon assured.

“Right, very carefully!” Tommy agreed. “S-s-slower, then molasses, drips off a s-s-spoon.” Coomer and Bubby both looked at Tommy in confusion, what did he say? Then Tommy heard Gordon wheeze out a laugh, Benrey smiling up at him as always too. Tommy rolled his eyes, at least Benrey appreciated his words.

Gordon sighed and went to the sample, he gripped onto it and started pushing.

“Bro you, you doin’ it correctly? Not gonna steal it?”

“What the- Why would I steal this!?” Gordon asked, Benrey just shrugged.

“You shouldn’t even be in here! This is my job, not yours Mr Passport guy!”

“Hey, I’m just, doin my job and making sure you’re not, not gonna, gonna do something stupid, like an idiot.”

“We are SO behind schedule because of YOU!”

“M-Mr Freeman I’d advice y-y-you stop ar-arguing right now!” Tommy demanded over the intercom. Gordon looked up at him with a gobsmacked expression.

“If you don’t hurry up and put that in there, I’m going to FUCKING explode!” Bubby added. Dr Coomer snickering a little in the background.

“He’s the one, there isn’t meant to be two-Oh fucking forget it! I’m doing it now!” Gordon ignored everyone and started pushing it to the lazer, Tommy watching with a slight gleam in his eyes, so so close. It was almost time for the plan to be in place.

“Just do it-“ Bubby started but then sparks flew out of the test sample, Gordon and Benrey jumped back to avoid getting hit.

“Uh oh, that don’t look good bro.” Benrey muttered.

“What the!?” Gordon looked up at the control room window. Tommy grinned for a second but went quickly to joining Dr Coomer and Bubby freaking out.

“What did you do!?” Bubby screamed.

“What do you mean what did I do!?” Gordon shouted back.

“Y-You did it too fast!” Tommy lied, he looked over to Berney who was sitting on the ground, watching the pretty sparks fly.

“You should’ve brought your passport, Gordon!” Dr Coomer shouted out, Tommy took Bubby and Dr Coomer out of the commands room, heading towards a safe spot.. Gordon covered his face, the lights and flashing hurting his eyes. Benrey saw and hurried over, pulling Gordon to cover.

“What the fuck is that?!”

“Don’t worry bro it’s all gonna be epic!” Benrey assured.

“The fuck!? How is this okay-FUCK!” Gordon was blinded by flashes of white and green before his vision blacked out.