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dazedbythebolt · 17 days ago

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"how the fuck do you know where I live?!" - (marvel) !

𖤓 parings: frank castle x paramedic!reader

𖤓 warnings: paramedic talk, blood, injuries, breaking in, brief knife mention, etc

𖤓 summary: You'd think being a paramedic in Hell's Kitchen was dangerous enough, but will a surprise call for the retrieval of The Punisher be enough to shake you out of your skin? Or maybe him coming to find you just might be the cherry on top.

𖤓 word count: 3.7k

𖤓 a/n: hehe had to make a story for my bae. also sorry if the writing is inaccurate! I tried to do at least a little bit of research about paramedics, but I didn't think I needed to go that in depth for it. lmk if you guys enjoyed!!

(pt.2)

The job wasn’t like the description. It never is. Thinking that my tolerance to blood and gore would give me a steady start was another foolish mistake of mine, but as always, I make rash decisions before really taking in the responsibility.

Instead of slow lazy mornings, I’m met with dragging hours day in and day out. No amount of nursing school could’ve prepared me for any of this. The stories, the sights, the tragedies, the victims—everyday I’m reminded of life’s uncertainty and how day I might be the one to end up in the stretcher.

But soon enough, you build an immunity. You have to let these things move past you, put on a brave face for not only your bosses but for the ones in the chair; the ones who need the real saving.

And of course, today is like no other.

After just restocking the van and loading up everything to be needed for the next trip, an urgent call makes its way through the system, this time from the police department which isn’t rare in Hell’s Kitchen.

“Whatd’ya think it is this time?” My co-worker, Marlen, jokes as we sit across from each-other in the back seat, an awkward new EMT, Jack, sat beside me.

“Probably another gang fight. Seeing way too many these days.” I reply, shaking my head as my eye sight remains out the thin windows, watching the bright lights cascade onto the city streets with ferocity.

“Hey guys,” Our lead supervisor, Rosalie, announces from the front seat comms as the blaring sirens almost drown her out. “We’ve got a pretty serious call here, so I need everyone to be dialed in. No fuck ups.” She says in that same tone most of us know by now. This is serious.

“What is it?” Marlen questions, leaning forward on his thighs as he holds the comms to his mouth, scrunching his eyebrows together as he looks my way as if i’d have the answer. I only shrug at him, sending a small glance to the young boy next to me as he still stares ahead.

“Cops say they caught him. The Punisher.” And as soon as the words fly from her mouth and though the device, it’s as if the sirens shut off and the world swallowed itself whole—giving us a first class ticket to a vat of flaming, sweltering, burning, hot lava.

Our eyes all immediately connect, and I don’t even hear the curse that instantly flies out of Marlen’s mouth. Instead, I try not to focus on the fear that bites away my insides, the tingles that pass through my arms like I’m back at my first day on the job. I squeeze my palms into fists, shutting my eyes before a sigh racks through my body and I force myself to relax. At least on the exterior.

“Okay. Its okay. We’ve got it, treat it like any other job. We’ve been through shit like this before, it’s no different. Right Mar?” I huff as my eyes fly to his, and his arms remain on his legs until he locks his stare into mine. His back suddenly straightens, and he lifts himself up as he lightly shakes himself awake.

“Right. Just like any other.” He mumbles more to himself, his eyes tearing away again to be glued to the stretcher, probably imagining the man himself who’ll be before us in no more than a minute.

I turn to the boy beside me. “And it’s okay we’ll be right here, just do everything we tell you to do okay? Just like the other calls.” I watch his body begin to actively shake as he nervously meets my eye. He nods curtly, taking in a big gulp before responding back.

“Yes..Y-Yes ma’am.” He breathes and I nod back at him slowly, hoping for him to feel at least the smallest bit reassured before we come face-to-face with the talk of the town. Well, talk of the nation actually.

And soon enough, the dreaded time arrives as van comes to a sudden stop and we all jolt out of our seats, rushing to the doors as I shove one open and Marlen does the same to the other. I fly down the steps before assessing the scene before me. News reporters seem to have gotten the memo before we did as they flock behind the bright yellow caution tape, questions and statements streaming out of their mouths like a swarm of bees.

I was used to one or two—maybe a couple dozen of reports at a scene. But this? This was on a whole other level. I quickly made action though, following an officer as he led me to the body which was perched far out on a grave, a heap of blood being the only thing you could make out from this distance. As we neared though, things started to become more clear.

His hair was trimmed short, and he was adorned in a black long sleeve and dark jeans. Of course what stood out was the blood that seemed to be leaking from every part of him. His skull, his arms, and as we neared closer- holy fucking shit.

Words fly out of my mouth and to Marlen who is immediately at my side with a stretcher, and we both load him onto it with the cop’s assistance as Jack remains in the van. I continue to relay all the information about his state and possible injuries to Marlen and the comm on my shoulder, studying the rips in his clothing due to bullets and the painfully obvious vacant flesh in his foot. And of course, I wouldn’t dare to look The Punisher in the eye right now.

The ride back is chaos as always, but nervous are still flying all around, especially as two heavily armed officers join us in the back to watch over. I tasked Marlen with treating his wounds as I begin a staring competition with his vitals, still too afraid to look him in the eye. I greet him with my name, as protocol, and ask for his but when I receive no answer, I can’t help but automatically turn to him. My breath catches heavily in my throat as I find him to already be looking. His stare is relentless, and he seems almost unbothered at his current state besides the prominent scrunch of his eyebrows.

I try and continue my instructed questionnaire, but his silence is as unrelenting as his heavy cold gaze. His eyes flicker to the cops before returning to his lap. I decide to leave it alone, and instead focus on tending to the other half of his injuries that Marlen can’t reach.

“Well sir, we’re going to have to cut your clothing off in order to tend to your injures, is that alright with you?” I prepose to him, lifting my eyebrows as I already anticipated the silence that followed. I just force my mouth into a straight line, grabbing the scissors that lay behind me as I began to trip away his shirt. Before I could get no more than an inch in, he removed his right arm from Marlen’s grasp and crossed it with the other, lifting the shirt over his head and handing it straight to me. “Thanks..” I muttered without thinking, quickly taking it and placing it on the floor.

I give him a look of uncertainty, but this time his eyes only connect with the ceiling as his chest rises and falls in one swift sigh before his eyes close.

I sighed. “Sir, I need you to stay with us, okay? I understand you’re not in the mood for questions, but we have a job to do. We can’t help you if you can’t help us.” I put both arms on the sidebars of the stretcher, giving him a longing gaze as he forces his head up to meet mine. He let out a quick huff as if in silent agreement, and I followed slowly. “..alright. You know where you are right? Any fuzzy feelings in your head?”

“No ma’am” He answered, his voice all rough and graveled as he turns away to watch Marlen grab his arm again.

“My partner here is just hooking you up the the rest of the machines and taking your blood pressure, that okay with you?” I ask, eyebrows raised once again as I questioned him in an almost teasing tone.

“Don’t gotta ask, just do what you gotta.” He declares finally, slamming his head back onto the stretcher and it seems that’s the last we’ll get out of him as me and Marlen lock eyes, but I just shake my head at him and continue what we have to.

We treat his injures the best we can before we arrive back to the hospital, and when we finally do the doors open up to a craze rush of heavily armed officers and trespassing reporters who greet our patient with open arms—and not in a friendly way. He’s pushed hastily into the building and placed into a room at the furthest point away from everyone else.

The chatter in the hospital was almost deafening. From the spill of patients we already had plus the nurses and doctors being worked over time, the news of an estranged serial killer entering the house only added fuel to the fire. It took a while for the three of us to fully decompress and asses the situation, but we busied ourselves with cleaning up and restocking as fast as possible.

“Shits fucking crazy huh. I mean- we were just face to face with New York’s craziest fucking killer of all time. The guy was not what I expected though, I’ll say that.” Marlen strikes up the obvious conversation with me as I sterilize the sea of metal tools while he busses himself with throwing away the cloths.

“What did you expect?” I pried, giving him a small smirk as he stood still and stared at the wall for a split second.

“I don’t know. Like some huge, jacked ass dude with like war paint all on his face and military gear everywhere.” He explains widely, a huge grin on his face as I snort, shaking my head.

“Yeah, what a disappointment for you huh.” I sneered, drying up all the tools and bringing them back to the van as we joined Jack, Marlen hot on my tail.

“Oh don’t joke around now. I saw how he was lookin’ at you. All mysterious and longing and shit. Fuck was that?” His vulgar mouth turns It’s attention to mine which even gains Jack’s attention as he gives me an inquisitive look. I just roll my eyes.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe it’s called having a conversation. You know, when someone is talking you look at them. I understand that might be a bit foreign to you Mar. Don’t follow his lead Jack, you’re more intelligent than this moron.” I snicker, watching Jack transform into beet red before turning my back to the two as I put the tools back in their places, ignoring the sarcastic gasp from Marlen.

“My goodness. And you were supposed to be a nurse? Good god woman, would not like you attending to me on my deathbed, jeez.” He jokes, and me and Jack just chuckle at his antics as I get up from my spot, shoving him aside as I leave the van and carry back on with our remaining duties.

The next couple of weeks are a blur. Work is usual, but our connection is closer after that last encounter. Even though it wasn’t technically trauma, we all could admit to feeling a new bond sprout after the fact. I also found myself keeping up with the trial, I mean at this point you would have to be actively trying to avoid it as it was plastered everywhere you looked. Social media, bars, newspapers, subway conversations, it was surely the talk of the town now.

But things weren’t adding up in my head. Everyone was painting him like some stone cold killer, and that’s what I expected before coming face to face with his wrecked body. Even though his tone was harsh and his glare burned, he wasn’t like how the tabloids painted him to be. Maybe i’d endured some serious whiplash or head trauma, and I keep having to remind myself that one ‘calm’ interaction with a deranged killer doesn’t make him a misunderstood villain. But I couldn’t help the gnawing in the pit of my heart, the one that dismissed the logic of my brain and told me what I almost wanted to hear. That Frank Castle wasn’t a mad man.

Yeah no, maybe I’m the mad one.

The streets were empty tonight, which is a rare thing in the ever bustling concrete jungle. You’d think in the part of the city with the highest crime rate the population would have the incentive to stay indoors, but that isn’t the case in the city that never sleeps. But today is different. Rather, the past week has been different.

The trial ended a while ago with a rather unsuccessful conviction. It was all over the news.

‘Trial of the Century: Frank Castle admits in court outrage!’

‘Unhinged castle threatens the people!’

And more were the titles that headlined. But that was old news now. Now, the people were more afraid than ever after hearing the words ‘Frank Castle’ and ‘escaped’ in the same sentence. Everyone was on edge, not even just at work but if you looked someone in the eyes after the sun set you would be sure your thoughts were the same as theirs.

But as I turned the lock to my apartment door and slammed it shut behind me, I let the worries slip away as the night creeped into the early hours. Alas, it was the weekend. The 2 days I finally had time off.

I treated myself to a relaxing evening. A long shower, a fuzzy blanket, and a cheesy movie as I cuddled the ice cream between my fingers, giggling along as I almost lost myself to the tickling silence. But a sharp bang on my window broke that feeling in an instant. As quickly as I’ve ever moved in my life, I sprinted to the kitchen and grabbed a knife from the block, ducking behind the island as my breathing began to fasten. Maybe I finally was going to take my turn in the stretcher.

Somehow, whomever or whatever was outside my window, had managed to get it unlocked and a loud and skin-prickling sound made way through the halls as it was being lifted. A heavy grunt followed as it reached its stopping point, the faint sound of paint chips cracking on the floor before something else heavy was heard moving.

I listened, frozen in fear as I gripped the knife with a sweaty palm, eyes darting all over the place before I threw my hand over my mouth, trying to regulate my breathing. A heavy thud sounded loudly as a foot lifted off the metal fire escape and onto the wooden floors, another following before a pained groan sounded. Just as I was about to make an unhopeful run for it, a call of my name stopped me in my tracks. The voice continued after being met with a still silence.

“Know you’re here, no point in hidin’. Shit.” The voice spoke out, rough and clearly pained as they seemed to stumble slightly. I peeked my head over the side of the counter, and watched as my eyes finally made contact with the large and bloody mass that sat perched at my window. The sound of my knife clattering to the tile alerted sharp eyes to quickly latch onto mine, and my face widened with recognition as my body went slack.

“Holy fucking- how the fuck do you know where I live?” I let the shock only wash over me for a millisecond before I abruptly stood up, gripping the side of the counter as I threw an accusing finger at him.

“S’not important.” Is all he huffs out, sparing me a quick glance before gazing down at his injures, covering his abdomen with a bloody hand as the other grips the ledge. My medical brain works faster than my rational one as I rush over to his aid, shutting the window with haste before drawing the curtains to a close. I asses his condition thoroughly before dipping back behind the counter to retrieve my medical kit, shoving on gloves before doing anything else.

“Over here. God, what do you think you’re doing? The nearest hospital is like a second away!” I usher out even as I unzip the bag, swiping away my mess of blankets and forgotten treats as I sit him down on the couch. He ignores my comment, instead turning his eyes to my hands as I lift his shirt, eyeing the deep and massive slash across his stomach. “The fuck.” I whisper under my breath.

As he allows me to remove his shirt, my eyes flash to the fabric as I feel more blood than I saw only to be met with bullet holes on the back. My expression contorts as I suddenly grab his shoulders, his surprise paralleling mine as I sit up to look at his back briefly.

“Dude, are you kidding me! Yeah- no I’m not dealing with this right now I’m taking you to the fucking hospital. I don’t know who you think I am-“ I begin as I let go of him, standing straight as I go to remove my gloves but his bloodied hands stops mine.

“No hospitals, no cops, no nothin’. You’re fixing me.” He rasps, speaking like it pains him as I watch him angrily.

“Uhm….no!? Im not a surgeon, I’m a paramedic. I can’t do shit like this. Plus, you just broke into my apartment! You-you’re a fugitive, do you know I could not only lose my job but go to jail because of this?” I barked at him, feeling like I’m talking to a wall as I start to walk away. But a heavy grunt and a few footsteps later and I don’t get far before a sharp tug to my arm spins me to face the hunched man.

“Please. I don’t have anywhere else. Just need you to fix me, then I’ll go. Won’t see me again, promise.” He begs sincerely, and the look in his eyes hooks mine as I search his face, looking for clues on the world’s most unreadable man. After a couple beats, a heavy sigh escapes me and it seems like a breath he was holding releases itself too as he walks back to the couch and crashes against it heavily.

“Shit. Fine. Okay. But I don’t care if you end up dead, you are indebted to me. For life.” I commanded back to him, returning to my kneel before him as I sift through my bag and pull out what’s needed. He only huffs what I assume is a sound of amusement before a heavy sigh leaves him, his sight watching as I attend to his injures.

What was supposed to be a night of binge-eating and falling asleep in front of the TV turned out to be me basically returning back to work, attending the unknown injures to a wanted serial killer. As soon as I began I threw away the questions that all flagged my mind, knowing I wasn’t going to get an answer no matter how hard I pried. I just let my flingers fly around his skin, trying not to let my stare linger on his shape of his body. But really, can you blame a girl?

It was around four in the morning when I tossed my gloves off, and that jolted him up as he immediately stood, grabbing his shirt of the ground as another pained sound left him.

“Hey,” I pulled him up, unknowingly grabbing his bicep as he gave me a strong look. “Try not to move around a bunch, these stitches aren’t the best medical grade and I’m only a paramedic so they’re pretty shitty-“

“Don’t care. They work well enough.” He moves away with a gruff voice, throwing back on his bloodied attire as he checks behind him to see if he’s left anything behind.

“You know, I can give you some new clothes if you’ll ask-“ I start but he cuts me off yet again.

“I don’t wanna take anything more from ya.” He states plainly, flashing me a look of sincerity before he walks off, the heavy pounding of his boots taking me out of my medical daze as I follow him back to the window. “Thank you.” He adds as he lifts the window back up with ease. It catches me off guard, the look he flashes me as I shake my head gently.

“I would say no problem, but it’s actually a pretty big one so, I’ll do you a favor and just try not to think about the crime I just committed. You keep those stitches tight, okay? Im not committing another felony for you.” I grunted at him, trying to sound at least a bit intimidating. I watched carefully, my crossed arms almost faltering as the smallest sign of a smirk tugged at the corner of his scarred and still bruised lips.

“Got it.” He noted, shoving his heavy body out of the window more swiftly than before and landing back onto the escape. He rested his palm between the threshold, staring at it before looking back up at me. “You stay inside okay, don’t go nowhere after work.” He warns me.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” I stated simply, adjusting my stance as I engulfed in the cities silence. After a beat, he shuffles out with a grunt and some sort of goodbye before he walks calmly down the stairs, disappearing into the cities darkness as I shut my window tight, triple checking to make sure its locked before turning and leaning against it.

What the hell is going on.

(pt.2)

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sitepathos · 9 months ago

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What if (Reader) just kills themselves? Or just find him dead somewhere

Does the Batfam care about him at all or just hate him completely?

Cause I'm slowly wanting to beat all of them up

I imagine then finding him dead or at least near death, instead of calling for Bruce, he calls for Alfred

And (reader) is literally batshit pun intended scared of everyone cause of trauma except for butler

I think if the Batfamily were to discover Reader dead, his body long since gone cold, it would be a slap in the face for all of them. For years, they’ve known that you exist, but couldn’t be bothered to really get to know you. Since you aren’t a vigilante and lack the capability to be trained and with all oof them having their own lives, they didn’t see the point in talking to you. Now, seeing their forgotten brother and son a corpse, they feel like shit. At your funeral, they try to talk about all the good times, but it’s only then do they realize most of them have never had a conversation with you, or even spent time with you.

And to top it all off, Alfred is PISSED at them. Sure, the butler’s expressed disappointment in all of them at some point (mostly over not properly caring for themselves), but this is different. He was just talking to you on that dreadful day and after not hearing from you for over 24 hours, he finds out that you’re dead and phone records show that the kidnappers tried to arrange a ransom, but not only do they not notice you missing, but they antagonize the man, no doubt leading to you paying the price.

He locks himself away in his room and no one tries to talk to him. He’s made it clear that he doesn’t want to hear from any of them. Inside his room, he’s quietly weeping, begging for your forgiveness. Had he known you’d meet with such a fate, he never would’ve left Gotham. Hell, he probably would’ve kept you in the manor, pulling you out of Gotham Academy and homeschooled you himself. Out of everyone in the family, you were the only normal one (the bar for “normal” in the Wayne Family is exceedingly low) and he treasured that more than anything. He knew you hated living at the manor, but he had hoped that he could convince you to at least stay in Gotham while he tried to get your father and siblings to notice you.

And now, you’ll never leave Gotham, buried in the Wayne Family Cemetery. Perhaps he should’ve let you leave when you turned eighteen. Sure, you’d be on the opposite side of the country, but at least you’d be alive.

Now, let’s say you decided to give your kidnappers Alfred’s number. The moment he’s told you’ve been kidnapped, he’s packing his bags and heading back to Gotham. He’s former Special Operations, so he no doubt has a few favors he can call in and in this case, he’s requesting the fastest plane available and flying it at top speed to Gotham. He arranges your ransom, over a million from Bruce’s personal account (Bruce has Alfred on all his bank accounts for safety reasons, but this is the first time he’s ever had to use it) and while he’s taking off at top speed, he’s on the phone with Bruce.

It doesn’t matter if he’s in the middle of a fight, Alfred knows how to make Bruce’s comm come on and the moment the line is open, he’s tearing the man a new one. Bruce isn’t able to say a word because his butler/father figure is spitting out 200 insults and threats a second. The last thing he says is: “I’ve arranged for the kidnappers to drop Master Y/N at the fairgrounds. I will be back within the hour and if he’s not back at the manor upon my return, you will not like what happens next. And god help you if a single hair of his is out of place.”

It’s been years since Bruce has known true fear (probably when he was rushing to save Jason and seeing the warehouse explode), but right now, he’s absolutely afraid of what will happen if he fails to bring you home. He rushes to the fairgrounds and sees you tied to some pole and blindfolded and he feels a world of guilt hit him in the gut.

You are his firstborn son and here you are, traumatized from some thugs. And if he didn’t feel like a piece of shit before, he really does when you tell him you not only knew he’s Batman, but that you were surprised that he’d be the one to save you. He actually sheds a few tears upon hearing that. He picks you up and refuses to let you go until you’re back home.

Things at Wayne Manor take a 180. When Bruce sees that you’ve been staying in a small guest room on the other side for the manor, he moves you to a room next to his; you’re not able to go anywhere, even within the house, without at least two of them following you; and they actually start treating you with decency, patting you on the head/back, greeting you in passing, having conversations with you, etc. They all feel guilty over their behavior towards you for over 10 years and try to make it up to you.

When Alfred tells them that you have plans to move back to Goodsprings, they beg you to stay in Gotham, Bruce even offering to put you up in a luxury apartment if you don’t want to stay in the manor. Just be prepared for them to visit at all hours everyday, even stoping by during their patrols.

#ask #yandere batfamily

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rhettrosunsets · 11 days ago

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Papers And Pad Thai - Natasha (Phoenix) Trace X Fem! Reader

Pairing: Natasha (Phoenix) Trace X Fem!Teacher Reader

Category: Fluff!! Hurt/Comfort

Summary: You've had the worlds longest day, between grading papers, a spilt lunch, and not having heard from your girlfriend in almost a week while she was deployed? You just wanted to get home and drink some wine so you could cry while wearing an oversized hoodie and watching some bad tv re-runs. But little did you know what would be awaiting you when you got outside, and how much better your day would get.

Based off this ask

Masterlist

Word Count: 2,151

Warnings: Mentions of a child throwing up, reader is having a very shitty day, mentions of deployment, Natasha does pick reader up and reader wears Natasha's hoodie but there are no descriptions of the reader outside of this, no use of Y/N, use of pet names for reader.

Notes: Eeee!! This was my first ever ask, based off this ask here and I was so excited to get to write this, anon that requested this I hope you enjoy it. I had so much fun getting to write this!

Your brightly decorated classroom was silent for the first time since 7am,

Your shoulders slumped forward as you clutched your pen loosely between your tired fingers, your head throbbing as you stared down at the last math test in the pile, taking a deep breath as you closed your eyes.

Somehow, a simple batch of easy subtraction problems that was supposed to be an easy test for the kids had managed to create at least six different new number systems that even Isaac Newton would have to sit down for, three small doodles of frogs, one child just writing sorry next to every answer with a frowny face, and one heartfelt love letter to your class guinea pig.

You let your head fall to the desk and groaned muttering “I love my job. I love my job and I love my kids” you repeated muffled against the wood desk. “I love my- okay, you know what? Maybe not today, and that’s okay.” you sighed out heavily to yourself, your body deflating as you tried not to cry.

You had stayed after school yet again to grade papers because the idea of bringing home another binder full of pure chaos made you want to sob. Fridays were supposed to be for movie day and early dismissal, something you reveled in every Friday, for the fact that you could finally get a small break. But Instead, today, three kids had cried over what pencils they got to use during the test, a kid threw up all over the classroom floor and had to go to the nurse while you tried to console the other kids, and you’d spilled your yogurt all over your lesson planner leaving you without lunch, and without a lesson planner.

And to make it all sting even more? Natasha still hadn’t messaged you. You didn’t blame her though, she was still deployed and you knew better than anyone how spotty their comms were when the squad was off on a deployment. But it’d been a week since her last message “We’re all okay, Miss you, Peach.”

No FaceTime calls, no bright smile and warm eyes, no warm voice whispering “Hey, baby” like she always did when she knew you needed it the most, you hadn’t even realized how badly you were missing her until today, when all of this rained down on you at once.

You tossed the finished paper on top of the pile with a huff before you gathered your bag, did a final check of the room, flipped off the lights and locked up your door, before stepping outside where the sun was just beginning to set, the golden hour hue illuminating the parking lot. The parking lot was mostly empty with all parents and students gone for the day, most of the administration having left hours ago when the bell rang, and just a few tired teachers also shuffling to their cars, waving half hearted goodbyes. You yawned into your elbow and reached into your bag fumbling for your keys, rounding the corner of the building with heavy lidded eyes, already picturing Natasha’s oversized hoodie and a glass of wine waiting for you at home.

Then you stopped dead in your tracks, because someone was leaning against your car. But it wasn't just anyone, it was your girlfriend. Your girlfriend who wasn’t supposed to be back for at least another week. She was still in her flight suit, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her thick boots planted firmly on the ground with one leg crossed over the other as she leaned against the driver’s side door, her arms crossed wearing that same cocky smirk that had made you fall in love with her in the first place.

She raised her brows, her cocky smirk never leaving her face as she saw you standing there bewildered, like you don’t believe she’s really there. “You gonna stand there all day ogling me? Or are you gonna come kiss me, Peach?”

Your knitted bag fell off your shoulder and the bag hit the pavement with a thud, but none of that mattered right now. The next thing you knew, you were running at full speed, and you crashed into her with so much force that she stumbled as she was forced to take a step back, leaning further into your car, laughing as she caught you in her arms.

“Woah easy there sweetgirl” she teased, pulling you tightly against her, lifting you off your feet, as you wrapped your legs around her middle. “You’re gonna knock us both over.” She said laughing happily at the fact that she got to hold you in her arms again.

You buried your face into her neck, inhaling her scent that smelled like jet fuel, soap, and the San Diego sun. It smelt like home. You tightly wound your arms around her neck like you were afraid she’d disappear if you let go, and maybe you were, because part of you still didn’t believe that she was really here, holding you, and calling you Peach.

“I-I didn’t know you were coming back today’ Tasha” you mumbled your voice thick and wobbly against her skin as she slowly set you down, placing your feet on the parking lot ground still keeping you pulled tightly against her. “That was the point baby” she mumbled gently, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Wanted to surprise my girl.”

A surprised, watery laugh left your lips, as you started to cry, the exhaustion from waking up at five in the morning, the grading of papers that made you want to pull your hair out, the stress from the day, the loneliness you felt earlier, all of it came crashing out of you at once as ugly hiccupping sobs started pouring out of you, making you clutch at her harder.

“Hey, hey" She whispered softly taken aback at your reaction. "Oh, Peach, don’t cry baby. It’s okay, it's okay. M'here.” Natasha said softly, pulling back from you just enough to cup your face in her hands and study your expression.

Her thumbs brushed away your tears as her thumbs rubbed gentle circles on the apples of your cheeks, and she kissed your forehead over and over again, like she could kiss the sadness away, and get her girl to feel better with just that, which to her credit worked as you calmed down enough to say “I missed you so much you choked out, your voice breaking as you did so.

“I know, sweetheart, I missed you more.” Natasha spoke back as she looked at you, trying to calm you down to the best of her ability. You shook your head, sniffling as you tried to speak trying to truly let her know how much this means to you “I-I’ve had such a long day, and then I saw you, and I thought I was dreaming, or I thought maybe it was the two coffees I had on an empty stomach and I was finally losing it. ”

“You’re not dreaming” Natasha promised with such authority that you couldn’t even question it, as she rested her forehead against yours. Her voice was low and steady, grounding you and soothing you in a way you’ve needed since she left. “I’m here, right here Peach. And I’m not going anywhere besides home with you, so we can go rewatch some shitty rom-coms and drink some wine.”

More tears fell from your eyes and she held you through them rubbing your back in slow circles and every few seconds she’d press another kiss to your cheek or your nose or the edge of your jawline.

“I really didn’t think you’d be back for another week” you whispered eventually, voice hoarse from crying. “We finished early, and no one got shot at. I call that a win, Peach.” she joked lightly, grinning widely when you choked out a teary eyed laugh.

“God, I love you’ Tasha” you blurted out, your voice full of emotion. The look on her face softened completely, “Yeah?” she asked, rubbing your cheeks with her thumbs as she smiled at you, staring into your eyes. “I think you should say it again” she whispered out, a small smirk perking up in the corner of her lips.

You smiled through the tears and mummured “I love you, Natasha Trace.”

She leaned in and kissed you slow, gentle, and full of everything she couldn’t say over a radio message or a letter. And when she pulled back, her eyes were warm and glassy. “I love you too, Peach,” she murmured. “So much so that it’s absolutely stupid.”

You burst into small giggles at the nickname, your face flushing as she peppered your cheeks with more kisses. “I’m serious, Peach” she insisted between smooches. “I was halfway across the world on a serious mission, and here I was thinking about you in a pencil-skirt, handing out stickers for good spelling, and smiling at those kids like they’re your own.”

You snorted as your head fell against her collarbone “Sorry to break your fantasy, but that’s not what I wear 'Tasha.” She shrugged, a smirk quirking up at the corners of her lips. “No, but I think that’s what I'll continue thinking about when I'm gone. It gives me good motivation to get back here.” she said, glancing down at you seeing how your eyes brightened when she did. “You’re an idiot” you say your voice full of fondness as you wrap your arms tightly around her again.

“But I'm your idiot, Peach” she corrected. You stayed like that for a while, just swaying slightly in the golden hour sun. Her hand rubbed slow circles over your back, and you could feel her smile against your temple. Finally, she pulled back and looked you over, taking you in fully after the emotions of the last few minutes. “You look exhausted, baby.”

“I am exhausted” you admitted with a yawn, before continuing, “It was a long week, one of my kids tried to eat a glue stick on Tuesday, I had a kid puke all over the floor today, and the math tests I had to grade today had declarations of love to the guinea pig instead of the answers to the questions.”

She winced at your retelling of your long week, “Yikes, Peach. No wonder you're dead on your feet.”

“I didn’t even get to eat lunch today because it got spilled all over my lesson planner” you whined out dramatically. Natasha gasped playfully and took your face in her hands again. “That’s criminal, baby. No lunch?”

“I know, you’re lucky I didn’t wither away before you got here to surprise me.” You reply back, in a dramatic tone, bringing your hand to your forehead as you lean back closing your eyes for the effect.

“Well, lucky for you, Peach, your incredibly hot, sexy, brave, and thoughtful girlfriend bought you takeout.” Natasha said in a teasing voice. Your eyes lit up, and a wide smile graced your face at the mention of something to eat “You brought me food?”

“I brought you Pad Thai, those egg rolls you love, and enough mango rice to last us a week, baby.” she said proudly, before continuing “And wine, lots of it, I also prepped the couch with tons of fuzzy blankets, and extra snacks for after dinner.”

You blinked up at her, absolutely stunned. “Are you trying to marry me ‘Tasha?” She gave you a wide smirk “Is it working?”

“Yes” you said without hesitation, no amusement even present in your tone, “God, yes.” She kissed you again and whispered against your lips, “Then let’s get you home and get some food into you, future Mrs. Trace.”

You grinned widely and kissed her back, your heart beating loud enough in your chest that you thought she could for sure hear it. She did a 'give me' motion with her hand, as you grabbed your bag from where you had dropped it and handed her the keys to your car.

She opened the passenger side car door for you, before tossing your bag into the backseat, and even buckled your seatbelt, giving you one last kiss on the forehead before sliding into the driver’s seat, and starting the car up. On the drive home, you reached for her hand and laced your fingers with hers, relishing in the feeling of her being home again. “I still can’t believe you’re here right now” you said softly, taking in her features, a disbelieved smile still present on your face. She brought your hand to her lips and kissed your knuckles, “I missed you more than words can convey, Baby.”

And when you got home, she wouldn’t let you lift a finger. She carried you up your driveway and through the door just to be dramatic, laughing loudly as she heard your loud fit of giggles. She put you on the couch, and immediately curled up beside you under the mountain of blankets she had prepared before heading to the school to come surprise you. She fed you bites of sticky rice between soft kisses and laughed every time ended up getting sauce on your nose or on the side of your mouth.

And later, when you finally started to drift off against her chest as a cheesy 2000’s rom-com played in the background, you knew everything would start to feel okay again.

#top gun x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #Natasha trace x reader #phoenix x reader #natasha phoenix trace #phoenix top gun #x reader #fem! reader #wlw #reader insert

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irisintheafterglow · 5 months ago

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move like an odd sight, come out at night

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: hozier - "movement"

summary: you escape to hell's kitchen, but your reputation follows you no matter where you run. the vigilante on your roof, however, believes you're more than just a weapon.

wc: 2.9k

cw/tags: black widow!reader, canon-typical violence and blood, minor injury, explicit language, pre-ddba bc i put bullseye and fisk in this as antagonists, angst with happy ending, iris loves matt murdock's ass

note: *cautiously approaches 'marvel x reader' writing tag, sets this on the doorstep like a cat with a bird, and runs away*

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

Truthfully, neither of you were very skilled at working with other people. It’s why you were vigilantes, not superheroes; heroes worked on teams and played nice on the playground. You preferred more direct forms of getting the job done, of swinging your pink plastic shovel and beating away kids threatening to invade your square of sandbox territory. Or at least, you did in the past. As of late, you only donned your tactical gear again because unfortunately, the best hiding place you could find was truly a shithole.

“Got anything yet?”

“No. Whoever’s talking about you, they’re making a point to do it quietly,” he replies, his expression blank as his ears sort through the noises of Hell’s Kitchen trying to find a needle in a city-sized haystack. He’s crouched on the brick ledge your legs dangle off of, looming over the street below like a gargoyle guarding a cathedral. “What was your plan the other night?”

“The night where you crashed my surveillance spot, you mean,” you quip. “And the same night I made the Devil jump out of his skin.” He sends a heatless glare in your general direction.

“What I’m hearing is, you didn’t have a plan and you’re avoiding the question.” Smart-ass.

“My plan was to listen in on police comms and get some extra energy out, but there was a trespasser on my roof.” He hums, satisfied with your answer. To your unwelcome surprise, you ran into both of his identities within twelve hours of moving into your crummy little apartment–Matt at the deli down the street and Daredevil on top of your building. Both times, you also caught him off guard to the point where he nearly threw the nearest cylindrical object at you. The first time it was a sandwich, and the second time it was a baton, but you only had Foggy to save you in the shop.

You can’t go throwing sandwiches at pretty ballerinas that come into the shop, Matt, you heard Foggy say when he thought you were out of earshot.

They’re a ballerina? Foggy snorts, assuming that Matt already knew you were jaw-droppingly stunning. In fact, he was waiting for the day his best friend came out as not actually being blind and only using it to reel in women.

Yeah. You would know they were a new teacher at the studio down the street if you weren’t busy trying to assault them with pastrami.

They caught me off guard, Matt dodges. What’d you want me to do?

Not scaring them off would be a good start. Jeez, I thought you were the charming one in this duo.

“I can’t say I’m a fan of a spy who can slow their heartbeat,” he admits, finally cracking the smallest of a smile. “It’s a cool trick, but pretty unfortunate for a guy who relies on hearing the bad guys.”

“Good thing I’m not an opponent, Murdock.” Like you, he’s not used to people knowing both his vigilante and his civilian faces interchangeably. You pieced together each other’s alternate identities the moment you interacted on the roof for the first time; your mind clocked his gait, his height, and his voice while he sensed the faintest scent of perfume he smelled earlier in the deli. Because of the accidental encounter, a severe lack of information regarding your new home, and a few other reasons you were purposefully hiding until the need arose, you begrudgingly asked Matt if you could run surveillance with him. He agreed, shrugging and asking if there would be people trying to come after you.

A buzzing in your pocket grabs your attention and you scowl when you see the dollar sign notification with a hefty amount of zeroes. “Problem,” you huff.

“What is it?”

“He put a bounty on my head.” The muscle in Matt’s jaw clenches. “Said to bring me in alive, thankfully, but I guess he doesn’t like I’ve been ghosting him. He also didn’t verify how alive I had to be.”

“He’s used to getting what he wants,” Matt explains with severe distaste. “Fisk isn’t a kind of guy you say ‘no’ to. Last guy who tried to tell him something he didn’t like–”

“Got well acquainted with a car door,” you finish unexpectedly. “Intelligence community, remember? We hear everything, including the brutal executions. It’s why he wants me in the first place.”

“A Widow in his pocket’s like having the Winter Soldier for a genie.”

“Ex-Widow,” you correct. “You know, I met the guy once. Big metal arm. Scary blue eyes. Not my type, especially the greasy hair.”

“Oh?” Matt allows amusement seep into his tone, despite the fact that your freedom just had a price tag put on it. “And what is your type?” You loose the first thought in your head like an arrow straight into his heart.

“A blind vigilante with a ton of Catholic guilt really get me going,” you answer casually and bite back a smile when he tries to hide his speechlessness. “I figure it’s easier to explain my history to him than Martin the accountant living a few doors down. Plus, the vigilante’s got a nicer ass.”

“I’ll bet,” Matt remarks and you allow yourself to feel the flutter in your stomach at his softer tone. You weren’t used to having a friend, let alone a friend who would help make sure you weren’t used as a weapon again. It didn’t hurt to flirt with him, just a little bit.

His head suddenly jerks to the side, concentrating. “Found ‘em.”

“Where?”

“Warehouse six blocks down. Fisk’s best prepping for a hunt.” A chill runs through your body and you exhale slowly through your nose to center yourself. It’d been months since you were freed from Dreykov’s mind control, weeks since you first arrived in the Kitchen, but the need to fight for your life was something that would never disappear. It constricted your throat, blurred your vision, and made your palms too clammy to hold a knife. Without the one-track-mind of a Red Room assassin, you found yourself able to feel fear…and it terrified you. “You alright?”

“Peachy,” you deadpan, your voice no longer melodically carefree.

“You’re not telling the truth,” he says and you swallow thickly. “It’s the one time I hear your heartrate go up, when you’re afraid.” Up until now you would work exclusively solo and you’re unfamiliar with someone who would call you out when you were scared. Your defenses raise immediately.

“Yeah. What about it?” He takes your standoffish nature in stride, rising from his crouched position and holding out his gloved hand to help you from yours. You take it with only a moment’s hesitation and let him give it a comforting squeeze.

“You’re not fighting alone anymore, you know. As long as you don’t shoot me, I’ll have your back if you have mine.” You nod and even if he can’t see it, it’s mostly for yourself anyway. “Unless, of course,” he continues with a shit-eating smirk, “you’ve got another blind vigilante in mind you’d rather–”

“Alright, Murdock. You’re done,” you chuckle, feeling more at ease. “Let’s get this done quickly; I’ve got class tomorrow.”

—

The confrontation could barely be considered a fight, and you easily would handle them on your own had Matt not been with you. Though, it was much faster having four fists throwing punches instead of two.

“You didn’t use the guns at all,” he notes once you’re both done knocking out and disarming the three dozen enemies in the warehouse. Catching your breath, you stick your batons in the sheaths on your back and shrug.

“You’re the one who said not to shoot you,” you point out.

“I appreciate the thoughtfulness.” His head tilts and you watch him listen to the labored breathing of a nearby thug. “One’s still conscious. I’ll get him.”

“He’s all yours.”

He stalks toward a guy who you would’ve assumed was unconscious and grabs him by the collar to reveal him very much awake. “Why’s Fisk after them so badly? Answer,” he hisses, “and I won’t break your hands.”

“I’ve found they talk if you dislocate their shoulder,” you suggest nonchalantly, your voice muffled under your mask. The guy’s eyes dart over to you, wide and bloodshot with fright. “Then, relocate it but slightly misaligned. Makes a weird kind of friction if you swing it back and forth.” Matt visibly pauses, considering your stomach-churning advice for a good ten seconds. He wasn’t used to working with others, let alone someone with your skillset; it was like having a slightly more stable Elektra, and that wasn’t much of an improvement. He doesn’t have time to act on your words, though, because suddenly the dam of information in the guy breaks.

“He’s scared of you!” The man exclaims and your eyes narrow.

“Scared of who?”

“Both of you,” he squeaks and looks back at you. “You were supposed to kill the Daredevil, not team up with him, you deceitful bitch!” Shit. Matt’s body goes deathly still.

“Fisk hired a Widow to kill me?” He asks lowly. Shit!

“He tried. That’s why he’s pissed.” The scene feels frozen, like a snowglobe on a high shelf. You didn’t necessarily feed Matt a lie; you rejected Kingpin’s offer the same night you went up to your roof, looking for a way to punch out your anger. “And you weren’t supposed to get involved,” he spits on the cowl and it’s the last thing he says before Matt knocks him out cold.

You stare at his back while he stands, your muscles tensed and ready to retreat or fight, however he reacts.

“You can take your hand off your gun,” he says without looking at you and your attention flicks down to your hands. You hadn’t realized your fingers found the cool metal on pure instinct. They feel naked without access to any immediate weapon.

“Are you upset?”

“Why would I be?” He turns to face you squarely. Every nerve in your body wants you to run, but you root yourself into the floor because your mind can’t understand how this so-called ‘friend’ could ever hurt you.

“Because I was supposed to kill you. Your archnemesis wants me to kill you.”

“And you didn’t,” he states patiently. “Your heart is racing.”

“I’m waiting for you to attack me, so I’m not sure what you expect,” you reply carefully. Puzzlingly, his posture remains relaxed, and it’s impossible to read what he’s thinking. “I lied to you. Aren’t you angry?”

“Why would I be angry for actions you didn’t take?” You blink and look down, suppressing your reflex to bolt when he approaches you until his boots are in front of yours. He murmurs your name, so quietly that only you can hear it. “I’m not Dreykov. You don’t need to plan an escape if you do something I don’t agree with. You’re your own person now.”

“Am I?” You whisper. “I get out, and yet I still feel like I’m nothing but a weapon.”

“I don’t think you’re a weapon.” Your body is still stiff as a board, waiting for a berating or a beating that won’t come.

“Then what am I?”

“A friend.”

Your mouth opens to reply, but a flash of movement catches your eye in the doorway you used to enter the warehouse. Acting on its own, your body shoves Matt to the side as an object goes flying past you and a stinging sensation blooms on your upper arm. You duck behind a storage container and find that your self-proclaimed ‘partner’ has disappeared into the shadows. Warmth drips down your arm and you remove your gun from its holster for the first time that night, steadying yourself.

“Alright, Widow. The boss is mad, so let’s not keep him waiting,” your assailant announces, his voice echoing off rusted metal walls. You hear him make a noise of disgust and kick something solid. “You left a shitshow to mop up, too. I thought you people were supposed to be clean killers. Quick with your target, just like me.” You fight through the adrenaline and finally piece together his identity with one word: target.

“Fuck off, Poindexter. I’m not going,” you snarl and immediately change positions to avoid a small knife that moved with the precision of a homing missile. The blade lodges itself in the metal where your head used to be and you don’t bother trying to yank it out. “Missed.”

“That was a warning, darling.” Creeping carefully from container to container, you catch the reflection of his nearly-identical Daredevil suit in the broken glass on the floor. It crunches beneath his feet as he paces leisurely, waiting for you to reveal yourself. “Let’s go, Widow. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. It’s just you and me here.” He thinks it’s just you.

He doesn’t know that Matt is here.

“How do I know you’re not gonna kill me when I step out?” Another phrase, another quick change of positions.

“If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be alive to mouth off.”

“You say that with such confidence.”

“This confidence is turning to impatience, so let’s go. Don’t make me take you in struggling,” he warns.

“Fine, but don’t throw anything at me, asshole,” you say with as normal of a voice as you can muster, reholstering your gun and stepping into the exposing moonlight. “Entrance in the front’s too exposed. There’s an alley out back we can go through unseen.” Without another word, he follows you to the rear doors and, for once, you’re relieved for your heart to be beating out of your chest. You figure it’s easier for Matt to track your movement.

“Fisk is pissed about your little tantrum the other night, but enough groveling will get you back in good graces.”

“Like I care about that,” you retort.

“You should. He won’t stop hunting you.”

“If he does, I’ll come after him myself.” You step out of the warehouse and the top half of your face is hit with frigid air. He was lurking somewhere, you could sense it. A small rectangle of paper crinkles under the toe of your boot and you peer down at it, smiling when you recognize the familiar font of Nelson, Murdock, & Page. “I’m not an asset anymore, Poindexter,” you declare once you’re both shrouded in the dark alley. “And I don’t fight alone anymore.”

Your stealth training takes over, slowing your heartrate and disappearing from his senses, if only for a moment. Before Poindexter can attempt to find you, there’s a whoosh of air in front of you and the sound of gravel beneath another pair of boots. Matt doesn’t give his enemy a chance to grab any projectiles, bruised knuckles striking in the darkness while you slip behind and knock out his legs.

When your enemy regains consciousness while slumped on the wet asphalt, there is no trace of the Daredevil or the Widow to be found.

—

Your students catch wind of your fondness of the ‘hot lawyer down the street’ a few weeks after you move into his apartment, and Matt doesn’t do much to keep your relationship a secret.

“Let’s, uh,” your voice trails off when you see him enter the studio for the first time, his mere presence making your cheeks outrageously hot. “Let’s run that combo one more time and call it a day, yes?” Your students follow your eyeline to the man waiting for you by the door and they all perk up at the same time, dancing with near perfection that makes you wonder if Matt should show up at the end of all your classes.

“Hope it’s alright I came to walk you home,” he greets with that easy smile that sends all sense of reason into the atmosphere.

“You were a definitely a distraction, but considering that we call the same place ‘home,’ I’ll let it slide,” you reply. His hands pull you by your hips and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, your forearms resting on his shoulders.

“Can we go out tonight?”

“Don’t we always?” You ask, confused. “We’re out so much where I think our collective sleep hours are in the negatives.”

“Not on patrol,” he corrects. “Let me take you to that place you’ve been wanting to try. The one with the rotating pie stand.” Your mouth gapes. If there was someone who had a worse work-life balance than you, it was your boyfriend. Yet here he was, recommending you both skip patrol. “I wanna give you a proper date. Please?”

“Since when are we allowed to take nights off, Murdock?” You tease.

“Since I made a deal with Spiderman to swing through the Kitchen once a month,” he drawls, attempting to kiss you and frowning when you gently pull back like you’ve offended him. “Sweetheart.”

“You can’t kiss me until you tell me how you managed to pull off a deal with Spiderman.” His forehead creases above his red-lensed glasses.

“I called in a favor.” You know he can hear the skepticism on your face. He exhales before continuing, “I told the kid I’d proofread his friend’s job application. Some opening as a photographer for the Bugle.”

“You tell him you were a lawyer?”

“I told him I’m a very good lawyer.” The last of your students wave goodbye, their eyebrows waggling as they leave the studio.

“Well, counselor, if it is your professional opinion that we should go on a date tonight, I’d be happy to oblige.”

“God, I love you as a partner,” he breathes.

“For romance or vigilantism?”

“Both.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x y/n #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel x y/n

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soclonely · 6 months ago

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My R2, welcome back!!! What do you think the 501st would do to celebrate the New Year? And what do your family do if you're comfortable sharing? My family have curry and play games

HELLO! I AM BACK AND WELCOMES ILY FRIEND! Uhh for my family we normally go skiing! This year though I just took it easy, binged watched some shows, and had delicious snacks all day long!

HOW THE CLONES CELEBRATE NEW YEARS

Rex- The Man is in bed at exactly 8:30 pm. He normally hits the rack at 8, but allows himself an extra half hour, as a treat.

Echo- curls up with a nice book on the couch while some quiet music plays in the background. He has a small tray of snacks out for the evening. Will turn the TV on for the countdown

Fives- Live streaming from the top of the ball as security chases him

Jesse- Hanging out at a small party with his friends! Just small, intimate gathering with those he is close to

Kix- Is the one throwing the new years party that Jessie attends. He is the host with the most and every year its a gathering to remember

Tup- Is making his final decision to adopt the tooka he had brought home to foster temporarily over the holiday season. He is ringing in the new year with the newest member of his family at home.

Dogma- Playing DD for his friends. Very responsible and acting like its a hassle. But really, he doesn't mind because at least he knows they will be getting home safe

Hardcase- committing racing across the country/planet to try and beat the time change so he can celebrate new years in at least 2 time zones

Coric- The man works in the ER. He put in his time of for new years 11 months prior and is off duty, with his comm off, sitting on a beach somewhere and sipping a cocktail while enjoying the peace

Bly- Desperately clinging to Aayla so she can be his smoochy kiss at midnight

99- is having a party with all of the young cadets. he helped them make hats and little homemade confetti poppers. Sure, he will have to clean it all up later but its worth it to see them all so happy and celebrating

Cody- Chaperoning his men around town. KILLS it at new years karaoke at the bar

Waxer/Boil- Just a quiet night at home, creating vision boards and swapping memories of the last year

Wolffe- Also chaperoning his men, but has Plo Koon tagging along. They lose the general somewhere in the crowd at the city center where everyone is gathered and Wolffe efficiently (chaotically) and calmly (panicked) found the general (he hollered and yelled until the crowd parted and Plo was spotted ahead)

Boost/Sinker- Spend the whole night gaming and sipping on mountain dew. they completely miss midnight and don't realize it until they look at the clock and its 2 in the morning.

Hunter- complete self care night where he stays in. He has headphones on, all communication capabilities off, and just decompresses from all the stress of the last year.

Wrecker- hosts an amazing and cool fireworks show!

Tech- is the unofficial manager for Wreckers firework show and party. Has everything coordinated to start EXACTLY at midnight. Researches and knows all of the local rules and regulations so if they are visited by local law enforcement he can argue inform them that despite complaints, they are clearly within the legal limits of explosives for entertainment purposes

Crosshair- acting hammered on what he things is booze (tech only told him that, its really just extra tangy grape juice that they found in the back of the fridge)

Omega- creating vision boards and resolutions and cleaning her WHOLE room in anticipation of the new year.

Howzer- Didn't even realize it was new years until the next morning when he shows up for work only for no one to be there.

Fox- BLESS THIS MAN. He is pounding caff left and right, having meltdowns between arrests, dealing with so many dumb people all night. Yeah, he could have went the easy route and worked in supplies or records like his other batchmates but nooooo he wanted to be the cool one. He wanted to be a peace officer. Looking at help wanted ads first thing in the morning.

Gregor- Sitting behind bars in the overnight cell in Fox's office. He isn't in any serious trouble he just wanted a reason to not go out in the crowds so he picked an argument with Foxy to get put in a 12 hour hold.

#The clones as #khai come get ya juice #captain rex #commander cody #clone force 99 #star wars #the clone wars #commander bly #commander fox #commander wolffe #star wars headcanons #star wars the clone wars

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androidcharles · 3 months ago

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oh hello, it's been a while since i've contributed creatively to the fandom.

But basically I have a small new fic that I probably won't expand upon unless peeps are interested. Sort of based on @flowerbarrel-art's (FOR SOME REASON I CAN'T TAG YOUR MAIN BLOG?) fairy sticks AU. Mike finds himself a fairy while working and decides to take it upon himself to adopt him (and maybe teach him how to speak like humans do).

Honestly, if you want me to remove that part though, I'll be more than happy to, because I understand if it seems a bit OOC of the fairies to do so. I kind of thought of it like Meowth from the Poke anime where he learned how to speak to impress someone he liked...

Mike sighed, allowing himself to lean back a little as he stared up at the ceiling. Ever since he had been appointed Head of Communications, it’s been one task after another, in addition to the morning and evening announcements. He was a bit sad when he found out that Kowalski had to retire, but he was happy to do so as he wanted to build a better life outside of the Toppats.

He sighed and saved a couple of documents, suddenly hearing a soft buzzing sound. He grumbled, staring at his coworkers, who were all already absorbed in their own work. Lately, over the course of the past few weeks, various things such as pens, paper clips, and even thumbtacks had gone missing, causing Mike to suspect foul play. But he had checked the security cams and no one was to blame for the missing equipment. It was strange, to say the least, but he knew better than to continue to fling blame at his coworkers.

Once more, a strange buzzing sound could be heard at all hours of the day in some places. They had suspected flies at first, as most of the comms Toppats seemed to have a bad habit of leaving food out, but after a thorough investigation (and a fumigation), it seemed like they were bug free.

He glanced over to where the buzzing sound was, swiping a bit with annoyance towards the noise before he gasped. He glanced to his side, gazing around a bit before tried to concentrate on his work again.

For some reason, he felt like he had brushed against something…

There it was again.

The buzzing noise returned, this time stronger than ever. He was silent for a few moments, trying to pretend he didn’t notice it until…

“GOTCHA!” Mike shouted, causing his team to jump. He hit something really hard, the bug flying towards his desk as he finally let out a satisfied sigh.

“Geez, Mike, I know it’s late, but we don’t need a wake up call,” one of the comms agents said, sipping his coffee.

“Whatever, let’s just see-” Mike suddenly paused as his eyes widened, staring down at the bug he just swiped.

No, it wasn’t a bug at all… it was a… human? A human with wings from the looks of things. Very beautiful orange wings, kinda like a monarch butterfly’s. He had soft fluffy hair on the top of his head as well, seemingly well taken care of from the looks of things and some slightly worn but orange clothes on.

He slowly reached towards it before the thing growled at him, shooting up and disappearing before his eyes. Before Mike could process what was happening, suddenly he saw it fall down not a few feet away from him, seemingly passing out.

“Oh no…” Mike said softly as he picked the poor thing up. It whimpered and growled a bit and he could have sworn he heard it say “No,” at him, but he didn’t care. If it was a bug, he wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But the fact that he hurt something with genuine feelings was eating away at him a little bit.

“What’s going on Mike? You’re a bit flighty today… woah…” His second in command, Michelle Uhura, suddenly went up to him and gasped when she saw the tiny human in his hands.

“Oh my goodness… I thought they were a myth,” Michelle said softly.

“Me too,” Mike said, “I feel so bad. The poor little guy…” He pat it’s head softly. It snarled a bit but seemed too out of it to really attack Mike any further.

“What, what’s going on?” One of the comms guys said, getting up. Pretty soon, Mike had a crowd around him and he was annoyed for obvious reasons.

“I know you guys are curious, but you have work to do, you know!” Mike shouted. The others started to scuttle back to their work stations as Michelle chuckled.

“What are you going to do with him, Mr. Control?” Michelle asked. Mike rolled his eyes, unsure of why he let such a nickname slide, but he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly as he glanced at the small fairy. It looked to still be breathing, luckily, but he had so much work to do…

“I hate to put you in this position, Ms. Uhura, but maybe you could keep an eye on him?” Mike asked.

“I’ve got my own work to do,” Michelle said, “But if you’re that concerned about him, maybe you should keep an eye on him.”

“I’ve got the same problem. But I don’t wanna just leave him with a random Toppat. Who knows what might happen,” Mike said.

“I can take over for today, if you want,” Michelle said.

“Michelle, I can’t do that to you.”

“I don’t mind. I don’t have much leftover and I can tell this is eating you up a bit,” Michelle pushed the fairy towards him as he blushed.

“Go ahead. I’ll be fine. Just keep your comms headset on and I’ll let you know if I need you, alright?” Michelle said softly. Mike finally nodded as he shut off his computer, carefully disconnecting a couple of wires before heading out of the office.

It was a long walk to his room, but by the time he got up there, the fairy seemed to be awake as he felt it squirming in his hand.

“Sorry little guy, just give me a second,” Mike said softly as he searched around his bathroom before placing a hand towel in a shoebox and dropping it in there. It gazed over the edge, a little perturbed as Mike glanced at it, noticing the small wound on top of it's head.

“Oh no,” Mike said, feeling a bit sick to his stomach as he rushed into his bathroom and pulled out a first aid kit, “Alright little guy, let’s get you taken of…”

After a bit of fidgeting and Mike shushing him as much as he could, he finally was able to get a small bandage on the fairy's head. The fairy grumbled as it flew to the corner of the shoebox, sulking a bit.

“C’mon, I was only trying to help. A thank you would be nice,” Mike said.

“NO!” The fairy suddenly shouted in a small voice, making a bunch of chittering noises at him afterwards.

Geez, what the heck, Mike thought, as he kept watching the fairy.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I was only trying to help…” Mike said softly. He heard Michelle’s voice over the intercom as he stretched a bit.

“I’m gonna go grab something to eat. Do you think you can stay here while I go get something? I’ll bring you something too,” Mike said. The fairy suddenly seemed interested as it looked up at him, it’s eyes curious as it flapped its wings rapidly.

“Just stay there and behave. And try not to leave alright?” Mike said, walking out of his room. He sighed as he walked to cafeteria, ordering a fried chicken dish with biscuits and coleslaw. He also grabbed a couple of oranges and some potato chips from the shelves, as well as a couple of candy bars.

By the time he was done, he had a heaping tray full of stuff as he took it back to his room. He entered the room, carefully balancing the tray on the bed. He pulled out a foldable table, quickly setting it up as he set the tray on the table. Immediately the fairy was eager to see what Mike had brought, flying over to the edge of the table, glancing at what he had brought.

“This is fried chicken,” Mike said, pinching off a bit for the fairy to try, “It’s made with chicken and some spices. Try it.” The fairy sniffed a piece before taking a small nibble, it’s eyes lighting up as it gobbled up the whole thing. It coughed slightly and Mike began to grow a bit fearful before he saw the creature fanning it’s mouth. He giggled, as he took a bit of coleslaw on his fork and carefully put some in front of him.

“Maybe you’ll like this a bit more,” Mike said. The fairy stared at the chicken before he bit into the coleslaw. It made a face, but it still ate it up.

“Maybe the dressing isn’t to your liking?” Mike muttered, mostly to himself as he started to eat a bit more of the chicken. He even passed a bit of the biscuit to it, as well as some potato chips, which the fairy ate with gusto.

“You must have been hungry, huh?” Mike said as the fairy glanced to the side awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, I’m just saying. Do you have a name?” Mike asked. The fairy tipped his head to the side as he finally said,

“Yes.”

“You’ve been speaking in little chirps this whole time. How do you know how to say human words, hm?”

The fairy placed his hand on his chin before pointing to Mike and than mimicing a talking person with his hands.

“Ah, so you watched people talking and managed to try to mimic them, hm?” Mike said, “How about you tell me your name then?” The fairy stared blankly at him as Mike let out a small sigh, before taking out a piece of paper.

“Or, I could write the alphabet here and you could just spell your name out for me,” Mike said. He began to write out the alphabet as the fairy watched with great curiosity.

“Alright, just point to the letters and spell out your name. And than I’ll teach you how to say it,” Mike said. The fairy stared at the paper before he flew to the first letter of his name. He walked over the paper, pointing at each letter as Mike read them out loud.

“B… U… R… T… Burt…” Mike said, “That’s your name?” Burt nodded his head, flapping his wings a bit more as Mike chuckled.

“You would say it like Buh-err-tuh. Try it,” Mike said.

“Buuuuuu…” Burt said, struggling a bit.

“Buh… errr… tuh…” Mike said slowly.

“Buh...err...tuh. Burt! Burt Burt!” Burt said, flapping his wings. Mike giggled as he started to peel one of the oranges. Burt’s eyes suddenly lit up as he bounced up and down.

“What? You want one?” Mike asked, taking a slice of orange and handing it to Burt. Immediately it was grabbed from his grasp as Burt chomped down on it.

“You must really like oranges, huh?” Mike asked.

“YES!” Burt said bouncing up and down, eager to get his hands on another orange slice. Mike peeled another orange for him, laying the slices down on the table as Burt started to gobble them up as if it was his last meal. Mike giggled again as he saw Burt look up at him expectantly.

“Sorry little guy, I only brought enough for myself and you,” Mike said, “But maybe if you’re good, I’ll bring you another orange, OK?” Burt whimpered as he flopped on to the floor, as if he was now going to starve for days now. Mike let out a small laugh before Burt looked up at him.

“Burt,” Burt said, pointing at himself. Then he pointed at Mike, saying “Yes?”

“Hm? Oh… do you want my name?” Mike asked. Burt chittered a bit, his wings flapping a little bit.

“My name is Micheal Sansbury. The comms guys call me Mike Control,” Mike said. Burt tipped his head to the side.

“Buh… err.. tuh?” Burt said.

“Oh, you wanna know to how to say it too, huh?” Mike asked, “You say it like Mmm-eye-keh. Mike”

“Mmmm…. Eeeeee….”

“Eye….” Mike said, drawing it out a little.

“Eyeeee…” Burt said.

“Kuh…”

“Mmmm-eeeeeyyeee…kuh… Mike. Mike! Mike!” Burt said, his wings flapping excitedly.

“Very good! You get the last slice of my orange as a reward,” Mike said, handing Burt his orange slice. Burt jumped up for joy, grabbing the orange slice and gobbling it down.

“I guess I can teach you some more words. Once you learn how to talk amongst the humans, maybe you can help me out a bit more,”Mike said. Burt beamed at him as Mike unwrapped some chocolate.

“How about we have a little candy to celebrate our newfound friendship, hm?” Mike asked. Burt tipped his head to the side but nodded anyway as Mike handed him half of one of his candy bars.

About thirty minutes later, Burt was still zipping around the room, chittering and chirping as he said the few words he knew in between. Mike lay in bed, wondering if he would ever stop, kind of regretting giving him that chocolate bar.

“Guess chocolate’s off the menu next time...”

#the henry stickmin collection #fairy sticks au #burt curtis #mike control #if you can guess what michelle is a ref to you get a cookie!#the narrators stories

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starman-john-tracy · 10 months ago

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Garden Party Gale [RP]

@socialitesleuth:

Penelope had since risen from her armchair and repositioned herself by the window, as if her taking a proper look herself would change matters. Lips purse in consideration. Abandon plans...? But so much effort had already gone into the event. It seemed unfair to be beaten by a little rain, but Penelope knew when to listen. Especially when it was John, and especially when he sounded so concerned. She flicks a strand of blonde from her face, noting with her own eyes the car that has now arrived. "I suppose we could bring the party indoors, though I'm not sure how well Parker will take it. He's spent the last couple of days organising and setting it up. Still, it is better to be safe than sorry." After all, Creighton-Wards never quit, unless they absolutely had to, and this situation most definitely fell under the banner of what was an acceptable defeat. "Parker!" She calls out briefly over her shoulder, and as far away from the communicator to avoid possibly defeaning her friend, before replying directly to John again. "It was a good few years ago. I believe they signed us off as fine, but... Well, Parker has been expressing concern over the East Wing these last few months. He wanted to bring some surveyors in, but I'm afraid we haven't had the chance. Work has kept us rather... tied up, on occasion." As nice as it had been to visit Southern France last month, Penelope hadn't been appreciative of the criminal she and Parker had been tracking down. The lack of manners was astonishing, to say the least. Realising this probably wouldn't help John in feeling less worried, Penelope offers a quick, soft, reassuring smile in an attempt to lessen his concern. "We'll make sure we bunker down somewhere safe, John."

A strong gust of wind buffets the wall outside, rattling the window panes violently in their frames. It must be loud enough for John to hear over the comm because his eyes flick to the side, ginger brows furrowing. The sky outside the window is black with thick, heavy storm clouds. The darkness hangs threateningly over the manor - the air seems just about ready to burst.

"You’ll have to pass my apologies on to Parker.” John says, which is rather charming considering he has no control over the weather. “I'm not talking just a little British rain, Penelope. Upwards of sixty three miles per hour," John shakes his head, clearly trying to convey the severity of her situation, “we're looking at flying gazebos.” And the straight face the man keeps, saying things like that, is genuinely impressive. “Let him know to hurry. I’d hate for anyone to get caught out there… and speaking of, you better get your guests inside. How many people were on your invite list this time anyway?”

He thinks he could probably call anyone else in transit and warn them to return home or, if the rain and wind is about to get as bad as his meteorological predictions suggest, to take shelter. John turns to the side and swipes the weather map, with its rolling red of oncoming inclement weather, up to the top of his periphery and expands his palms to open a new window as another thought hits him.

“And keep away from that East Wing.” He’s pulled up a perhaps-not-entirely-legal three dimensional satellite map of her estate, and is busy examining the building.

“Eos, could you run a structural analysis on these segments of the manor for me?” He earmarks something Penny can't see with a few quick, short taps.

There’s a chirpy little FAB John, before the information begins to cascade into his hands.

On the ground, the first few drops of rain fall, bursting against Penny's antique glass windows like tiny, wet grenades. It's going to be, what they call in England, a bloody great storm.

#Garden Party Gale RP #I've put this into it's own thread so it's easier to reblog <3 #And so the tag stays chronological

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scrawleditalix · 15 days ago

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Okay so I’ve been chewing on it and whatever Sana is up to, it’s extremely fucking weird and we’re missing a fuckload of information that ought to be available (though it’s possible the crew has this info and we, the audience, simply haven’t been given it yet).

What we know:

1. Sana disappeared from her mission somewhere between the 24 and 48 hour mark

2. She was meeting with a Super Secret Contact for MacGuffin reasons

3. There was no sign of struggle— she seems to have landed and left her ship voluntarily, though this doesn’t preclude coercion, blackmail, etc.

4. She had the ability to send an encoded message to Arkady pretty much as soon as everyone was reunited, presumably with a sci-fi burner phone

Item (4) obviously raises the most questions, but it also gives us the most clues. The timing, specifically, is odd— Arkady was sending messages all day, so it can’t have been backlogged and waiting for signal. Seeing as she received the message literally moments after stepping on the ship, I think the timing is not a coincidence. The most likely option, in my opinion, is that the message was somehow configured to send whenever Arkady’s comms unit reconnected with E.L.L.A., but it’s not impossible that Sana has eyes on them somehow.

The bigger question, here, is why Sana sent this message to Arkady instead of Commander Violet/Thasia, and why she sent it in code. If Sana has had messaging capabilities AT ALL, they should have been the first to know. And the only reason to encode a message is because you either don’t trust the people you’re around when you’re sending it, or because you don’t trust the people who might be around when it’s received. (Even if she only had access to numbers for whatever reason, there were less obscure ways to encode this. Send the numbers flip-phone style. Send in Morse code with 0 and 1 as dot and dash. Send it with 1-26 as A-Z. Anything but a musical clue that only means something to the people who know you very well.)

The other thing that’s driving me a little bit up the wall is all of the information it seems like we should have access to. Such as:

1. Where was Sana’s ship found???? I don’t care if we don’t have context for the planet, why isn’t this literally the first thing we learn??? Was her ship found near a city? In the middle of the ocean? In a desert? Orbiting a star? Why don’t we know this why isn’t this available what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck—

2. How long was Sana supposed to be gone? This makes more sense that we don’t know, since this was a top secret mission and all, but it also is important because depending on how the mission was supposed to go, it’s not impossible that Sana was able to meet with her contact already. Assuming the mission was meant to take the full three or so weeks between when she left and when the attack is meant to happen, this seems unlikely, but it’s not out of the question that she was simply sent out on the mission as soon as the contact was deemed credible. It would be sorta stupid to leave the lynchpin of your very important secret attack hanging until the last possible minute if you could avoid it. At the very least, we should have details about the make and fuel level of her ship that would give clues as to her mission parameters.

3. What was the last message she was able to send out before she went missing? It’s almost certainly an asinine progress report but not knowing that for sure leaves space for it to be very important and if it’s very important then it should have been in the briefing and it’s just giving me a very nagging feeling is all.

4. This isn’t really *missing* per se and I kind of doubt it will become important but I think it’s weird that it seemed to take a while to mount this rescue mission. Between the minisode and episode one, Juniper finished and aired her documentary installment, and Arkady was already relistening to it. It felt like several days to maybe a week had passed between her disappearance and the team receiving clearance, which would be fine except apparently this mission was extremely extremely important. If this mission is so so so important and you don’t even know how long it was supposed to take (as noted in missing item #2, important info that they should have given if they had it) surely it is of paramount importance you send out a rescue team immediately. And then sending out a shitty, poorly armed ship to do it— it’s reasonable to believe that it’s all that was available, but all of these little details are really sticking for me.

Anyways I think the Rooks are bad and I think I’m gonna be a real happy camper about putting 2 separate squares for them going crooked on my bingo card.

#tscosi #on my bullshit #god I hope they find Sana before the mid season hiatus #I miss her so much dude you can’t do this to me it’s cruel

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anony-man · 8 months ago

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Apologies for the long stretch of silence on my end. Now we’re back to normal and I’m ready to jump right into drabbles again!

Chubformers drabble #120!

Characters: Red Alert (& Inferno - G1)

Word count: 1.5k

Inferno was always the mech for the job when it came to fixing whatever mountains Red Alert had made out of a simple molehill. The poor, anxious mech’s mind was put at ease more times than he’d care to admit thanks to his good friend’s support, and there was hardly a time where the bot went down for tackling the troubles the Autobot’s top security personnel.

Boundaries were important, and lines should have to be drawn eventually, but Red Alert was always too relieved by Inferno’s help to ever consider that maybe it would be in his best interests to establish a bit of better trust between himself and other Autobots. When a situation came up, like getting himself wedged into his office chair, for example, pre-established relationships between acquaintances that could be easily dropped after such an awkward rescue mission would have been very, very helpful.

Alas…

Most complaints that came from his sector were filtered through various other members of the faction, which meant something as simple as a request for looking into more reliable furniture would have been tossed out by the first set of rolled optics. Red Alert’s reputation for bringing way too much attention to unimportant matters had already made him infamous amongst his peers, that was for sure. It wasn’t the sort of reputation that earned him dirty looks or tainted energon, but it didn’t help him much when there was a legitimate concern to bring to his team’s attention.

Could getting himself stuck in his office chair count as a legitimate concern? He wasn’t quite sure… maybe he’d try to bring it up in the next meeting after all. In the meantime, the worst of his fears had in fact happened, and he was now forced to try to keep his cool and deal with the worst of it.

Thus, his dilemma.

Inferno would come racing down the halls and kick the door in the very nanosecond Red Alert pinged his comm. It wasn’t the best treatment for easing his chronic paranoia, but his friend at least cared enough to try. The unyielding support and gentle encouragement towards maybe looking at things through a less drastic lens was nice when the poor mech wasn’t squirming against the restraints of his armrests and struggling to peel the rolls of fat hanging from his hips out from between the narrow spaces, but it was appreciated nonetheless.

This hadn’t been intentional. It never was, of course. Red Alert had just been so focused, and so obsessively involved in his task that morning, that he had missed the warning signs.

His chair certainly was a little snug when he went to sit down, and he may have had to wiggle his aft around a bit more than usual before he finally found a solution to the uncomfortable perch, but it wasn’t all that concerning. A tight fit was a relief in its own way, and Red Alert found comfort in the way the armrests squeezed into his waist, and in the sensation of the rolls of fat spilling into place. Hell, he was feeling safe enough to shed a bit of the plating around his middle before leaning back in his chair and getting settled.

The monitor room was his safe space, and his chair was his throne. The rest of the day passed in a blurr as he got himself comfortable and began his shift, all while occasionally stopping for the few mandatory snack breaks peppered in between.

Nothing topped sitting idle at his desk for hours each day like getting up to stretch his legs and refill his grumbling tanks, that was for sure. Red Alert hadn’t given it much thought at the time, considering he was too wrapped up in licking his fingers clean of the residue chocolate staining the thin metal before digging his servo back into the candy bowl Inferno often brought him little bags of sweets with every visit, and it had become something of a routine for them both. Red Alert couldn’t keep up with the constantly growing pile of treats in his office, but he could still try… and try he did.

He had gotten up to refill his candy bowl about for times at least, if he were counting. Each time meant struggling to pry the fat rolls of mesh from out of the chair so he could stand, and each attempt grew harder and harder as the day progressed. Red Alert wasn’t sure what the final straw was now, nor did he really want to know, but as his failed attempts at prying his hips out from between the plastic-covered metal bars and lifting his fat aft up from where it had become wedged into the seat grew more desperate, he knew he needed to call for backup.

Red Alert whined softly as he looked back up at the monitors, which flickered and buzzed with little to no activity. Everything was as it should be—the halls were clear, the rooms were alive with happy Autobots, and their alarms remained silent. He really didn’t have good reason for contacting Inferno, but the more he struggled, the more he realized this was going to be a joined effort.

He couldn’t leave his team exposed to potential dangers when he was trapped in his chair. The right thing to do was to call up Inferno and request backup, and he knew it. Another pitiful sound worked its way up Red Alert’s throat, and he whined all the louder as another attempt at shimmying his way to freedom ended in failure.

Inferno would understand. All he had to do was press his comm and give his friend a call.

The comm fizzled to life only a second after Red Alert had made the connection. On the other end, Inferno’s smooth, happy voice could be heard above the background sounds of bots at work.

“Red Alert! There you are, pal,” he said, his voice crackling against the radio static of their connection. “I’ve been waiting to hear from you. Busy morning?”

“Sort of,” Red Alert said. His relief was palpable as he sighed and relaxed, only to be startled by the pinch of his cramped seat against the exposed mesh on his thighs. “Inferno, I was… well, I have a bit of a—“

The comm was silent for a moment as he stumbled over his words before Inferno’s voice reappeared, cutting through the soon-to-be ramble from the worked up mech.

“Got yourself in a pickle?” his friend asked, the telltale sound of shouts fading into the background accompanying the heavy step of his pedes. “Say no more. I’ll be right there, okay?”

It seemed important to give Inferno a bit of information on what he would be walking into, but Red Alert found he was now far too embarrassed to say another word. The security director buried his face in his servos and mumbled a sound of agreement before listening to the line go dead. He wasn’t sure how to even begin to explain his current predicament, anyway, and he supposed it was better to just… well, leave it as is. Inferno dealt with plenty of emergencies on the daily; he could easily work with this.

There was little time for obsessing over it, and little room to prepare, as on cue, the door was swung wide following a pounding of Inferno’s fist against the metal. Red Alert was almost disappointed to have missed the look on the mech’s face, given that he had yet to gather up the courage needed to lift his own face from his servos, but the long stretch of silence that came before his savior even dared to speak was enough of an answer.

“Talk about an emergency,” the firetruck said, prompting Red Alert to finally lift his helm. “You been stuck there long?”

The cocked hip and arms crossed over his chest as he studied the situation was a good indication that the predicament wasn’t nearly enough to take him by surprise, but even Red Alert clocked the flush of faceplates on Inferno’s naturally red cheeks. He supposed there wasn’t much of a choice when it came to handling this situation with a professional air when they’d gotten to know each other as long as they had, but a bit of tact from the mech’s part would have been nice.

Should he snap? Should he beg? Red Alert didn’t do either, in the end. In fact, the only thing he seemed capable of doing was squirming in place, feeling much like another vulnerable patient waiting for rescue as Inferno’s looked on with an air of shared embarrassment.

“Thanks for coming so quickly,” he said, sounding sheepish and ashamed as he stared down at the floor, and at his lap, which was still bunched up and squeezed into place between the armrests of the seat. “It hasn’t been long, but…”

“Long enough,” Inferno nodded. “I gotcha. Let’s get you out then, hm?”

Red Alert let his helm hang. “Please.”

This was definitely going down in the books as something he hoped they never discussed again. With his luck, however, and with Inferno’s track record, he had a feeling it was only the beginning… but the beginning of what?

Primus, he hoped they never found out.

#chubformers #red alert #inferno #stuckage #anon man writes

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stepswowdsen · 27 days ago

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【KagePro】 KuroEne Art Ideas + Comm Plans 🖤💙🐍🐇

Summary:

KuroEne Art Ideas for 6/9 💙💛🖤

Current Commission Requests (KuroEne) 🐍🐇

Future Commission Plans (KuroEne, MaryEne, AyaEne) 🖤💙🩷❤️

Some rambles about my KuroEne art ideas for 6/9, current commission requests I ordered, and some future commission plans 👍

KuroEne Art Ideas 🎨

Main Ideas

KuroEne Kiss 😽

KuroEne Kiss (MR2 Saeru) 😘

KuroEne wearing Traditional Wedding Kimono 👘

Other Ideas

KuroEne wearing Traditional Viet Clothes 💙🖤

KuroEne biting into a golden apple 🐍🐇🍎💛

Redrawing old KuroEne sketches

Rambles

Thought of some ideas for what I can draw for 6/9 🖤 💛 💙

Happy HaruTaka/KonoEne/KuroEne Day~ 🖤💛💙

Technically KuroEne is XX/6 but tends to gets included in 9/6 by association for obvious reasons.

I had a few KuroEne angst ideas in mind, but I was like, "I probably shouldn't draw angst for 6/9"

I can probably speedrun drawing something later today 🫡

I originally drew the KuroEne kiss doodle in May 2024, and then did the rough coloured sketch version in July 2024, which is when I posted it for 9/6 day last year 🖤💛💙

I was planning to work on my JuAli WIPs, but since it’s getting close to 6/9, I’ll just sketch something KuroEne related first.

If I get the time, I’ll make it a coloured sketch.

I’ve been meaning to get back to my KuroEne kiss doodle eventually…

I've just been drawing a lot of sketches lately cuz they’re easy and quick to do (and lower commitment)

And I tend to clean up sketches multiple times and take a LONG time with colouring. Like I just know my art process would take at least 10 hours if I actually rendered fr

The option where I just redraw my old sketches would be the easiest cuz I'd just have to redraw some stuff (Saeru’s hair and expression) and make my sketches cleaner

Since I do multiple sketch passes and refine until it looks "good enough" to me. So basically, until I'm satisfied.

MR2 Saeru Redesign 🖤❤️

The shapes are inspired by this wonderful MR2 Saeru redesign by @/dirtsooop 🖤❤️

Probably gonna redraw MR2 Saeru's hair in that 1st one to be the same as another doodle I did

I'd like to make his hair similar to this MR2 Saeru doodle I drew before.

Since I drew the 1st one before settling on a hair shape I liked.

I'm glad I'm finally satisfied with how I draw his hair shapes now ^^

I love the idea of him having fluffier hair and pointy devil looking horns since villains tend to be designed with sharp shape language (pointy shapes) since it evokes the sense of danger 😈✨

I prefer making his hair much fluffier over using the manga's hair shapes tbh... I tried drawing with the manga's version many times and I was never completely satisfied with my sketches.

I appreciate Mahiro's work, but I'm personally not a fan of her art style so it's kind of disappointing to me that the manga doesn't have dynamic art (ex. strong shape language, silhouettes, or panelling/compositions)

And eventually I'm gonna proceed with my MR2 Saeru redesign where he wears traditional clothing and takes more design inspirations from Azami's design

Cuz I fuck with everything on this design EXCEPT for the canon design's crop top (and entire clothes, tbh)

I love the black snake scales on his face, the cute little tufts of hair and black horns, the braid in the back that looks like a scorpion's tail like Judar's, red sclera and red gradient limbs, and the white sash with bloodstains on it.

Just not everything else 😭

KuroEne Wearing Traditional Viet Clothes 🖤💙

KuroEne wearing Việt Phục 🖤💙

I imagined that Ene would wear this blue Áo Tấc (which is also called Áo Tế (lit. "Ceremonial dress")), and blue Khăn Đóng (lit. "towel to wear tightly," means, "headpiece; turban") 💙🤍

I imagined that Kuroha/Saeru would wear this Áo Giao Lĩnh (lit. "Cross collared dress") 🖤💛🤍

The name comes from 1 Tấc (a unit of measurement), which refers to the width of the bound seam.

This Áo Giao Lĩnh has colours that are PERFECT for Saeru, especially since black, white, and gold are his theme colours. I love the gold embroidering.

I love to imagine Ene wearing blue Fairy style Áo Tấc where she also wears a white translucent scarf/shawl or has translucent sleeves~ 💞🥰

Ofc I have more rambles on my ideas, but I'll put it in a separate post dedicated to talking about KuroEne wearing Việt Phục.

KuroEne Art Pose Ideas

Various pose ideas for KuroEne wearing traditional clothes...

Tbh if I draw the option with them in traditional clothes, then I'll definitely be late for 6/9, so I'll probably opt for the 2nd option and then draw KuroEne in traditional clothes sometime later.

I like the 3rd one’s pose the most. It's the most intimate

Drawing over CSP's 3D models for sketch drafts helps me get a basic idea down so I can sketch faster that way

Rambles with Feila

F: I JUST REALIZED IT'S ALMOST 6/9 😭

Me: Tbh I can probably speedrun a quick doodle 🫡 As long as I work on it today.

F: I like 3rd too, it's a lot more touchy and close, and Ene can easily reach Kuroha that way wwww

Me: I can choose the 1st one’s pose for my own art, while I chose the 2nd for Rin's art

Current Comms

KuroEne Wearing Traditional Wedding Kimono Bust by Rin (@/acengkebab) 👘💐

Poses and compositions similar to this comm sample: (X)

Ene can wear Iro-uchikake (色打掛, "Colourful wedding kimono"), the 2nd highest formal wedding kimono, that has a draping bridal trail 💙🤍

Kuroha/Saeru can wear the traditional formal men's kimono, Daiichi reisou (第一礼装, lit. "no. 1/most formal dress"), the highest level of formal wear for men's kimono, which consists of black (黒, kuro) montsuki kimono, haori jacket, and hakama 🖤🩶🤍

Since Kuroha's main colours are black and gray (and yellow), the traditional black, gray, and white colours really fit him.

At first, I thought about them carrying black and blue Wagasa (和傘, lit. "Japanese umbrellas"), which are oil paper umbrellas.

But I felt like it'd clutter the piece (and add too much detail complexity especially with how detailed their outfits are), and I'd rather the focus just be on their faces with it being a bust comm.

I imagined that Ene would wear blue flower accessories in her hair 💙🤍💐

I imagine that the BG would have wisteria flowers.

One of my fave flowers that I love is Wisteria.

I consider it a Selena flower 💜

I associate it to my KHR OC and beloved wife 💞

It's a purple flower and also a poisonous flower 💜💐

In Vietnam, we call it Hoa tử đằng (lit. "Flower behind death"), and Cây đậu tía ("Purple bean tree")

We also call it by the name, Hoa fuji ("Fuji/Wisteria flowers"), which is used when referring to the JP variant.

There are both JP and CN variants of Wisteria.

"Flower behind Death" is especially fitting for them... Sighs... :'^) 🖤💙

Basically, I saw that Rin, an ID/SEA artist, drew KuroEne in the past, and I found out they were offering comms, so I asked if they could draw KuroEne in traditional wedding kimono 🖤💙👘🙏

Omg 😭🥺💖💞💗

Rin's message to me is very sweet 💗

It makes me happy to see a fellow SEA artist who ships them 🥺🖤💙

Feila also discussed ideas with me for the KuroEne comm to help me decide on their outfits, and pose/expression/composition ideas.

Ty for your inputs! 💞💗

Poses and Expressions

I imagine that they would both have open eyed expressions...

I imagine Saeru would still have his signature smug smirk, but that his gaze would be a little softer in this...

While Ene has a happy smiling expression (^v^)

I imagined that they their fingers would be intertwined

And Ene has a hand to his face, while Saeru has his other hand coming around the back of Ene's neck

Just used CSP's 3D models to get a quick idea as a rough visual guide.

I had this at first but then I was worried that his kimono sleeves would obscure too much of Ene's kimono, and I want Ene's kimono to be visible in the piece.

Feila suggested a kind of pose where their fingers would be intertwined. So I did this after! Now both their kimono sleeves can be visible and not cover too much of the other 👍

...

I considered the 1st pose for Rin's comm, but then I realized that his kimono sleeves would cover sm of Ene's kimono (unless his sleeves drooped down to his elbows) and I want her kimono to be visible.

So I'll use the 1st pose for my own art and handed the 2nd image as a ref for Rin to use

Hard to get the poses exact for the 2nd one but it gives an idea

This post is more of an update from me... Wasn't sure whether I should tag

I also had these when I was drafting ideas for the poses for Rin's KuroEne Traditional Wedding Kimono comm.

Rin (@/acengkebab) will get back to me whenever they’re finished their current commission queue (since they already have a lot of slots), since I was put on a Waitlist. I don't mind the wait ^^

For Rin's comm, I went with the ones where they're holding hands 😘

KuroEne Wearing Traditional Wedding Kimono Chibi Icon by Hika (@/onigiwi2namayo) 👘🌹

Poses and expressions similar to the bottom comm sample: (X)

I considered KuroEne wearing their Design Poll and Seek at Mekakucity outfits but decided to go with the option of them wearing Traditional Wedding Kimono.

Rambles with Feila

Oh I definitely have an idea of what I could commission Hika for 👍

KuroEne in their Design Poll and Seek at Mekakucity Outfits 🖤 💙

And Ene has blue and white roses (flower hair accessories) in her hair 🌹

And they could be holding each other's roses like that one comm sample Hika has ^^

Perhaps Ene could have a veil (but Idk if that's overkill. I just need the roses in her hair 💙 )

Since my refs for my HC version designs of JuAli aren't ready yet. I need to draw their headshots at least. I'd need their half-bodies (or down to their sleeves) if Hika needs to draw poses with their sleeves/arms raised up.

The other idea I had is KuroEne wearing traditional Japanese wedding clothes.

Ene wearing blue and white Iro-uchikake (色打掛, lit. "Colourful wedding kimono") with blue and white roses in her hair 💙🤍👘🌹

Kuroha/Saeru wearing traditional formal men's kimono, Daiichi reisou (第一礼装, lit. "no. 1/most formal dress") 🖤🩶🤍

Though it adds complexity. Hika can simplify as much as needed ^^

Commission Ideas

I came up with the options of commissioning Hika for:

KuroEne in their Design Poll and Seek at Mekakucity Outfits (while they're holding each other's roses and Ene has roses in her hair) 🖤💙👗

KuroEne wearing Traditional Japanese Wedding Kimono (while holding each other's roses and Ene has roses in her hair) 🖤💙👘🌹

One is simpler for Hika. She'd have to simplify details a lot more for the 2nd one

F: I feel like with the context of roses, weddings are perfect but the other choice is so good too... 😭

THOUGH, I'm leaning more towards wedding

Me: Yeah I also thought about how Ene's Seek at Mekakucity dress goes down to her shoulders so Idk how much would be visible in the chibi icon. Chibi Icons are Headshots. 🤔

I think going for them wearing wedding kimono is the play here, since it'll go down to their shoulders.

I'll tell Hika to simplify as much as she needs to. I just want the light blue to blue gradient on her wedding kimono 👍

No need to worry about patterns. That wedding kimono is VERY detailed.

F: Same, as long as it still has it's main characteristics, I'm sure it'll be fine :D

Me: Thanks for helping me pick! I'll send the form soon. I'll say I want the poses to be similar to one of her comm samples 😌

Me: OH I just forgot about expressions. What kind of expressions do we want?

Would Saeru have a smug flirty expression and would Ene have a shy blushy one or an exicted happy one?

>//< or :D

F: Might sound simple but how about a (cute) nervous expression on Ene and a gentle smile from Kuroha? I mean, she's getting married to a snake demon, who wouldn't be nervous /j

Me: Ooooh it'd be nice if Saeru has a more tender expression 😽😚

I'll ask Hika for a smug yet slightly gentler/tender looking expression

So is Ene's expression like the sample?

F: Yes the purple haired one :D

Me: Okee gotcha! I'll gather my refs and send the form when I can 🙏

(EDIT: As an update, Hika accepted my comm form so we'll see the sketch WIP update soon ^^ Probably sometime next week.)

Future Comm Plans

KuroEne Skeb Chibis by Akiko (@/Akiko_141)

Upcoming Commission Ideas

KuroEne Sketch Icon (Style B) - Ene holding a small chibi Kuroha in her hands, similar to Akiko's ALNST commission arts 🖤💛💙

JuAli Skeb Style Chibis - JuAli wearing matching couple hanfu 🖤❤️💛

KuroEne Sketch Headshot (Style B) - Kuroha holding a small chibi Ene in his hands, similar to the Outer Science MV and Akiko's ALNST commission arts 🖤💛💙🐍🐇

JuAli Sketch Headshot (Style B) - Judar holding a small chibi Alibaba in his hands (perhaps with a haniwa (clay doll) Alibaba too. Maybe Judar has cat ears and Alibaba has puppy ears) 🖤💛❤️🐈‍⬛🐕

Mekakushi Dan wearing Casual Clothing by Sidu

Eventual Commission Ideas

MaryEne Sketch Headshot (Style B) - Mary holding a small chibi Ene in her hands, similar to Akiko's ALNST commission arts (Either of Mary's usual design or in her Casual Dress where she's wearing Ene-style twintails with Ene colours) 🩷💙🤍

MaryEne Sketch Headshot (Style B) - Queen (Medusa Form) Mary holding a small chibi Ene in her hands 🩷💙🤍

AyaEne Sketch Headshot (Style B) - Ayano holding a small chibi Ene in her hands ❤️💙

Examples of Akiko's ALNST ship commissions: (1) / (2) / (3)

These are the comps and poses I imagined for my future comms ^^

Admittedly I wanted to commission Akiko (@/Akiko_141) for KuroEne and JuAli, but her waitlist slots closed a lot quicker this time.

I'd like to commission her for my biggest OTPs (JuAli and KuroEne) when her slots reopen again 🙏

And then I'll go for my secondary ships ^^

The 2nd section is what I eventually want to commission.

The main reason why I've been mostly commissioning XanLena and KuroEne of my main OTPs, is because they have tons of refs that make it easier for the artists I commission to draw them.

I’ll be waiting patiently for next time 🙏 Her art style is sooo clean and professional!

Akiko knows both KagePro and Magi 💗 This is very sweet of her 🥺

I was pleasantly surprised she knows both KagePro and Magi!

Her art style is SOOO gorgeous! 💗

I know exactly who to commission in the future for comms of my biggest OTPs 😌🥰💞

Though I need to get JuAli's ref sheets of their HC designs done first.

This does also give me time to refine my eventual arts of them, cuz I wanna make sure the details are good so I can finalize the designs so there aren't inconsistencies in design details.

If I finish JuAli’s refs soon (at least their headshots or down to their sleeves, depending on the pose), then I can comm Hika to draw JuAli Chibi Icons soon ^^

#kagepro #kagerou project #kuroha #ene #kuroene #enomoto takane #saeru #kozakura mary #tateyama ayano #ayaene #maryene #kuroha x ene #saeene #saeru x ene #black konoha #dark konoha #me ga saeru hebi #saeru hebi #snake of clearing eyes #clearing snake #ayano x ene #mary x ene #sen's rambles #Lmk if you don't want me to tag for these kinds of unsorted rambles and just use my rambles tag? This is more of an update #I always tend to gravitate towards rare pairs & niche popular ships. It feels more personal to me that way.#So basically the charas that I think she'd have an interesting relationship dynamic with. I always go for whatever compels me most #I wish to see my wife being loved by charas I approve of. I'm selective of who gets paired with my faves. I need to approve of them first #For every fandom I'm into I almost always tend to have 1 chara that I revolve multiships around. And those are my fave ships

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thetrashbagswasteland · 29 days ago

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LATEST FANFICS

Rules: post the beginning lines of your most recent 10 published fanfics, then attempt to tag 10 people!

Tagged by: @omniblades-and-stars (ty!!) Gonna do these in the order they appear on ao3, which means some of these first lines may be older but shhhh 1. Unwanted (AviTis angst smut oneshot)

Five more days. He just had to make it five more days.

2. Project Sunseeker Rewrite (my OG Shakarian first contact AU longfic, being improved upon)

It’s remarkably hard to work out where in the universe you are without a single point of reference. An alarm was bleating dully. Mmm… Not the usual tone. Maybe Kaid had changed it? He tended to switch them up so they didn’t all get used to sleeping through the tone. She breathed in and the acrid smell of cooking meat hit her nose along with something distinctly more chemical, like plastic - damnit Ash, really? Had she forgotten the spatula in the hot pan after walking away again? If she was going to insist on being the one to cook eggs and bacon for the three of them she should at least learn to do it without destroying their kitchenware.

3. The Longshot (AviTis pre-canon detective noir focusing on Castis Vakarian)

“VAKARIAN.” His heart sank.

4. The Student (pre-canon, Saren's recruitment and training of Avitus Rix)

“I’ve got you one.” For a second, Saren assumed he must have misunderstood. The line wasn’t brilliant, after all, and his brother’s statement made no sense as a way of greeting. Got him one what? “Am I supposed to know what you have found?” He asked, about as politely as he could muster. As a general rule it was his brain which jumped from topic to topic too fast for Desolas to understand and not the other way around - or at the very least that was how he preferred things to be between them. Ah- no matter. He diverted his attention back to the checklist he’d been going through; stocking the hold of a ship was easier in theory than in reality, especially when this time around it was entirely his own responsibility to make sure he had everything he could ever conceivably need. How was he meant to know what constituted a reasonable amount of any given resource? And why did everything have to be so spirits-damned expensive? A tired sigh dragged him back to the open comm line against his will, clearly and wrongly assuming they were simply resuming a conversation they had started some time before and left unfinished. “A student, dumbass- I’ve found you your student.”

5. Good For Some-Nothing (Desabrudas and young!Saren hurt/comfort fic, written as a gift)

The rapidly-becoming-too-familiar keening wails of an abandoned child behind a locked door was all it took to sink Valis’ heart straight down into the pit of her stomach. Fuck. How many days in a row did that make it?

6. A Cold And Unfamiliar Home (Andromeda AU wherein Macen is the surviving turian pathfinder)

Whatever it was she had expected of the turian pathfinder, Sara had to admit that it wasn’t Macen Barro.

7. Mostly Harmless (Barrix/Kryterius training mission fic with bonus smut)

| -Bitevitus Dick(s)- | ETA five minutes. Bringing dinner. Macen let his head roll back again, throat to the ceiling and neck popping soothingly as it found the roll-top of the sofa - just what he needed after too long clenching his mandibles and tensing every muscle from atlas to pastern in order to maintain the picture-perfect prim and proper posture his current assignment demanded of him. Forget that it remained a waste of his considerable training and talents, standing in one spot for hours on end without a pause sucked for far simpler reasons. Everything ached. | -Bitevitus Dick(s)- | Real dinner I mean. Stopped for takeout. Not my cock in a box of popcorn. again.

8. Seeing Another Sky (Sunseeker!verse post Sunseeker challenge fill (Moon Day), soft little Shakarian comfort fill)

Once upon a time, the stars had been a thing in the sky and not a place to go.

9. Before The Alarm Goes Off (Kryterius prompt fill (kiss upon a scar))

“I’ve not seen that one before- when did you get that?” Saren shivered. He allowed his head to be tilted to the side so as to let the thin, artificial light filtering through the blinds to better reach the scar - delighting in the soft scrape of a blunted, filed-down talon when his partner traced the ridge of unblemished hide between the two long-since-healed scars that made up that particular old wound. He was just so gentle with him.

10. Single Sided Dice (Sara Ryder (VetRyder, Beyond Familiar Stars!verse) introspective challenge fill.

“Babygirl, you’ve got to learn how to be on your own eventually…” Maybe it’s telling that what perhaps remains her earliest memory.

Open season if you wanna play, consider yourself tagged!

#ask meme #my fic #the fact that there's two smut fics in here is actually kinda hilarious considering I don't write that much smut lmao

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theconstellationprincess · 9 months ago

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Whumptober day 4: Sensory Deprivation, Alternate Prompt: Motion Sickness

Empires s2 with Pix + Joel (and mentioned Fwhip), minor agere @froggymarsh

tw for emetophobia (not graphic, very minor)

Pix closed his eyes as Joel continued the tour across Stratos. As beautiful as the floating city was, and it was very beautfiul, Pix wasn't the biggest fan of heights. Mountains he could handle, tops of abandoned castles, because he had his feet on solid ground and still felt a connection to the Earth.

Up here, in Stratos, there is none of that. Walking in the city feels nothing like any material down on the ground, and there is no sense of connection to the history he is so familiar with up here. It is odd, and it's making him feel... unwell.

Joel stands in front of a statue, and Pix wants to pay attention to him, because he does find this fascinating, but his world is spinning around him and he's somewhat worried he's about to faint. The roiling of his stomach grows stronger, and he has no control over the fact that when he opens his mouth to tell Joel something is wrong, the only thing that comes out is most of the lunch they had not yet an hour ago.

He groans weakly and sits down (making sure to avoid the puke, which fascinatingly does not seem to sink into the ground? Floor? Material upon which Stratos is construction. Joel stops talking, and Pix feels a mixture of guilt and shame as the young God approaches him hesitantly.

"You aren't supposed to do that." Joel says petulantly, easily picking Pix up. He goes to protest, and then promptly snaps his mouth shut when the nausea threatens to overpower him again. He closes his eyes for good measure, because it is even more disorienting to be carried, and it is not long before he is laid down. He hesitantly opens his eyes, trying to give Joel a reassuring smile. He's not sure he succeeds.

"Sorry." Pix mumbles, grimacing at the taste in his mouth. He's handed a glass of water, and though he's unsure of it's origin, it tastes well enough so he drinks it. Joel is biting his nails, and Pix can help but feel endeared to him. Fond, even. He is very much like the other young emperors, of which he cares for deeply because they do not look down on him despite him being not even remotely royal in any sense of the word. He grabs his comm from where it is attached to his pants and sends a message to Fwhip, because he knows that he can care for Joel while Pix rests.

"Don't apologise for being sick." Joel tells him, narrowing his eyes, and Pix blushes a bit, because he has just had is own words thrown back at him. He sighs and leans forward, breathing deeply for a moment.

"I will be fine once I get some rest in my own bed. Will you escort me?" Joel brightens at that, at least, and PIx is glad because as much as he loves Joel and is willing to drop most anything to help him, it is harder to care for other's when you are not taking care of yourself. Joel ensures that they make the trip slowly, and Fwhip is there waiting for them when they arrive.

It does not surprise him, that when he collapses into bed and squeezes his pillow to remind himself that he is, in fact, back on solid ground where everything feels as it should, that he can still hear them nearby. It is pleasant, to hear Joel laugh as he drifts off to sleep, comforted by the knowledge that he will be alright, just as Pix will be.

#star writes #age regression #agere #fandom agere #sfw agere #mcyt agere #empires agere #empires s2 #pixlriffs #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans agere #whumptober #motion sickess

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ladylucksrogue · 3 months ago

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Angstpril 2025 Day 14

Command Batch - I failed you - Ponds

Summary:

After Ponds freezes up during a simulation, he struggles with the guilt of letting his squad down.

Also available on A03

The sim had ended hours ago, but Ponds was still replaying it in his head.

They’d been debriefed, sent back to the bunk room, told to clean up and prepare for the next day.

Ponds barely remembered any of that.

He sat on the edge of his bunk, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it might offer answers. His hands had stopped shaking. That was something, at least.

He should’ve done something, anything, but he’d frozen. It hadn’t lasted long. Maybe three seconds. Five at most. That had been enough for the squad to fail, for the others to scramble. For it all to go sideways.

He ran a hand through his hair. Stupid.

He didn’t know why. Everything had been going smoothly, until it wasn’t. The sim dropped in that fake artillery barrage, and his mind had just blanked. He’d heard the alarms, seen the flashes, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t think. His feet stayed planted and everything else unraveled.

It was his fault. He was the oldest. He was supposed to be in charge. Instead, they’d failed.

Ponds didn’t even know how it ended. He’d come back to himself with Fox yelling into the comms and Cody scrambling to take point. By then it was too late.

Everyone was in their bunks, already asleep. Except Bly. Bly wasn’t in his bunk, not at his locker, not even tucked away with his datapad. Ponds frowned.

He scanned the dim room again and saw a small figure sitting half, curled by the lockers, hunched like he was trying to disappear, shoulders shaking.

Ponds’ stomach dropped. He padded over quietly, crouching down beside him. “Bly?”

No answer.

Ponds shifted, settling beside him.

After a long silence, Bly whispered, “I messed up.”

Ponds blinked. “What?”

“I was too slow. I missed my mark. I didn’t check my corner fast enough and the sim flagged it. They all looked at me like I was the one who botched the whole thing.” Bly’s voice cracked, just a little.

“No, you didn’t.” Ponds shook his head. “That’s not what happened.”

“I saw the report. They flagged me. Fox and Cody were mad....”

“That’s because I froze.” The words were harder to get out than he expected. “I froze. I didn’t give the command. That’s why everything fell apart.”

Bly sniffled. “They all blamed me.”

“I didn’t know.” Ponds’ voice dropped. “I was so caught up in what I did, I didn’t even notice what was happening around me after. They shouldn’t have done that.” Ponds felt something in his chest twist. Guilt, sharp and deep.

“I’m sorry,” Ponds said quietly. “I should’ve protected you. I should’ve noticed.”

Then Bly leaned into him, just barely, and Ponds wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding him close.

“You didn’t fail me,” Bly whispered.

Ponds rested his chin on the top of Bly’s head. “We’ll do better next time. Together.”

He still felt like he failed, especially as Bly’s shoulders shook, but he’d deal with it tomorrow, and the next sim would be better

#angstpril2025 #star wars: the clone wars #fanfiction #day14 #i failed you #command batch #commander ponds #commander bly

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odvunir · 6 months ago

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physical/mental health update

quick rundown of how things have been from november til now

everything was going mostly normal until

my dad passed away very suddenly and i needed funds getting down there for his celebration of life

i converted several large donations into large commissions because i wanted to show appreciation

i ended up spending more and more on the ticket due to schedule conflicts with several people

i had a mixed time but overall i was in an unhealthy environment physically and mentally the whole time

both bus trips exhausted me. in every way imaginable. i was up 30+ hours each time and greyhound buses are genuinely the most uncomfortable cramped shit ive ever encountered in my life.

i got home and was still recovering from the stress and exhaustion when i caught covid for the first time, and was obviously unable to function or get proper rest for several days.

as soon as i started to feel better i took a small edible (fairly normal for me, im dependent on weed) and experienced an anxiety attack that mimicked a heart attack (which was what my dad passed from at 56 so i couldn't stop thinking about him and panicking more, my heart rate was 165 when the paramedics got there, my limbs were weak, i couldn't stop shaking and my chest felt like someone smeared menthol all over it)

i went to the ER and spent 20 minutes with 4 different nurses trying to get blood / IV, i was dehydrated the whole time and they wanted me to get fluids via IV (so you know.) they actually blew a vein in my hand and it still hurts

i was given temporary anti anxiety meds which for a few days actually helped me sleep

i got my period, which for me includes a LOT of pain and fatigue and mental erraticism

i woke up one night directly into an anxiety attack and had to call my boyfriend for several hours until the physical symptoms faded. this put my sleeping schedule off course

i continued to have difficulty sleeping bc i was so afraid of laying down to sleep and getting an anxiety attack that it would end up being a self fulfilling prophecy. i usually smoke a bit of weed to help me sleep - that went out the window as it also gave me massive anxiety attacks

i finally calmed down my anxiety and i have a new culprit keeping me awake - snoring. i have snored myself awake 5 times at least, just in the 6 hours i was able to sleep just now.

on top of all this, getting commissions to pay rent and bills has been more difficult than ever before and i'm terrified i'll have to ask for help or go further into debt just to be able to pay rent. an anonymous user gifted me enough money to go see a doctor about my anxiety and i still haven't gone - because i still have a couple hundred to go before i can even pay rent and bills, which all tend to hit me at the same time.

i continue to be behind on commissions because, well gestures to all of the above. which stresses me out more because i have always prided myself on delivering commissions in a timely manner and having to bump people week after week and book comms a full month and a half in advance is grating on my psyche.

so yeah

does a silly little pose

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siri-ike · 7 months ago

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2500 hours of audio

Authers note: to be completely honest I forgot about this until I got a notification that someone rebloged it. So I guess have a part two.

Part 1

reasearch links: affects of isolation

Donnie's nice and accurate account of events in exact detail and order of occurrence, category 6: severe injuries and illnesses. Part 172: Leo's recovery from the prison dimension part 1.

"Mission log. I've managed to avoid the enemy for now"

"Enemy? He must be talking about Kraang."

playing hour 59.

"59? No, Shelldon. Rewind to the start."

If Donnie didn't know better, he'd say Leo had been listening to these himself. Even if we accept that he'd been stuck for a bare minimum of 2500 hours, assuming he hadn't talked to it the full week he had it before the prison dimension, and also assuming that he was talking to it 24/7 from capture to rescue. Which is unlikely, even for him.

104 days is just so hard to even comprehend.

Donnie looks over at Leo, sleeping peacefully.

"I'm... sorry you had to endure that, Nardo."

rewind complete.

"Play recording."

"Leo's notes: found some jewelry that fell into the sewer. Mostly, engagement rings, wedding rings, and class rings. None of them fit me, of course, so I'm gonna sell them for pizza money."

Click.

"Shelldon, skip to when he got sent to the prison dimension."

Right, gotta reprogram his artificial intelligence.

"Fast forward 10 minutes."

He could probably get a solid 10 minutes of rambling in a week.

"I don't know how to lead. Raphs, the oldest, why couldn't he just stay leader? Or if it had to be someone else, why not pick April? She's just as good at rushing in without a plan. Maybe even better. Or Mikey, he can get anyone to like him. Remember when he got all the kids in the mystic library to follow him?" Leo shudders audibly. "Maybe I should just ask dad. Or maybe I should wait for Donnie to finish rebuilding Shelldon so I can ask him and then have him erase his own memory. Yeah, that's it. Don! Buddy! Tello. What's up?"

Click

"I remember this. He asked me about my progress rebuilding you. I thought he actually wanted to hear about the process of, ugh never mind, it's not important. Shelldon, fast forward 2 minutes."

Click.

"Leo's notes: Pick up 125 pizzas, any toppings."

Finally.

"Leo's notes: uhm, sorry I haven't talked in a while, things got really crazy for, I think it was a few days. Anyway, Kraang got bored of kicking my shell for so long. I could have sworn I'd be dead by now, but it's like no matter what he does to me, I can't die."

"OK, I've been fiddling with the wrist comm for a while, Donnie put a bunch of 8 bit games on it like frogger, snake, and pong. At least I'll have something to do. At least until I run out of battery... I definitely need it too, It's barely been, what 8, 9 hours? And I'm already talking to a photo."

Click.

Donnie looks up from sanitizing his surgical equipment (ok, so it's really Leos, but it's not like he's using it right now) to remark snidely

"As if I would make a machine that runs on batteries. These babies run by replenishing quartz energy converters. You just have to move it around to charge it. I got the idea from these old watches, you know just because an idea is old doesn't mean it can't be utilized by my extreme gen-"

He stops as he looks over at his unconscious brother.

"Some other time, perhaps."

setting reminder for "other time"

"Shelldon, disregard previous order."

reminder canceled

Donnie sits back down and presses a button on his console.

"Update. I beat snake. Turns out if you manage to make the snake fill the whole screen, the game just ends. And it only took me like- 178 hours according to the time log... I can't believe I've been playing snake nonstop for 178 hours. I'm not even tired or hungry. It makes sense kind of. I mean, they were in here for a thousand years, weren't they? Probably don't need food or sleep"

"Dear wrist comm, Kraang found me again. spent a couple hours getting thrown around, totaly ruined my frogger streak. I could have sworn he cracked your screen. Can things also not 'die' here?"

"I think I've been here for about 8 to 10 days. Hopefully, the next thing Don adds to the wrist comms is a clock. Maybe he's hearing this all the way back home. Are you? Are you listening in on me? Sneaky pancake."

"Kraang ruined my rock sculptures of you guys! Can you believe that? He's suck a jerk. We have an entire dimention! It's not like I go around breaking the stuff he makes. Even if he did make things, I wouldn't destroy it! I almost feel bad for the other two Kraang. I can't imagine having this guy as a brother."

"I ran into some people here. They looked somewhat human. Like the aliens in the first Jupiter Jim film: the 1968 classic Jupiter Jim's Atomic adventure in space. Before they had the budget for alien costumes or a full 20 minutes of film. So they just hired some college students and heavily contoured them. Exept the guys I met were also short. So, short. Like. Shorter than me, anyway, I'm gonna follow them to see what's up."

Click.

"That's strange I didn't pick up any other life signs. Check again."

the only signs of life picked up by Leo's wrist comm were his own and kraang

"They got a flying car, it looks so 60s. I half expect it to have lava lamp floors."

"Reminder: ask Donnie to make the floor in my room a lavalamp."

"Wait, no, a waterbed floor. That way, the whole floor is a bed."

"I got even closer, and they use 60s slang, too. Like daddyo, check and far out. I'm pretty sure I heard one of them say the word splitsville. I'm gonna try to talk to them. How do I look... yeah, like a homeless person, I know, I meant more like. Do I look approachable?... No, no raving loonatic is not my idea of approachable. Hang on."

"Ok, I dusted off my bandana, harness, and wrappings. Is this presentable enough?... too bad, cause it's the best we're gonna get."

Click

"Maybe it's a robot? Inorganic life wouldn't be detected on the scanners. That would explain why we can't hear a response. It's just communicating through text." Donnie denies.

"They call themselves Neutrinos. Their people are the original inhabitants of the prison dimension. Which means that somehow, they have been avoiding the Kraang for generations. Isn't that great, I'm not alone."

"Is there such a thing as interdimentional ethics?"

"If I had a nickel every time our world sent genocidal balls of over-chewed gum to the neutrinos dimention, I'd have two nickels. It's not a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice."

"It happened, I've officially survived a whole month in the prison dimension. Wooo." Leo says flatly. "Should have had the foresight to bring a cake, no; pizza... who am I kidding? If I had either, I would have eaten it by now."

"I met the Neutrinos again. Currently following their directions to a village inside a meteor. I can't wait to spend some time with people. I was about to start losing it."

"They've got everything here. Plants, technology, people, a religion. I guess those just pop up whenever you have a group of people living together."

"They're no teenage mutant ninja turtles, but it's a community. And if I'm being completely honest, I think I would even take the company of Meat Sweats right now over nothing."

"I guess this place isn't without strings attached. If I want to stay, I have to join a religious faction. I thought it was all one belief system, but it turns out there are three major ones and, like, 20 small ones. All of them want me on their side, and I suspect that whichever one I choose will try to use me to 'sort out' the others as they put it... but... I can't be alone again. I was alone for 36 days, and it was,-" Leo's voice breaks. "... I can't do that again." He stutters.

"Ok, what would Lou Jitsu do? Dad would probably pick the cannibalism faction. So I can rule that one out. What would Leo do?... I would pick the most powerful group because they've been offering me the most. I can't do that, I'm pretty sure they are evil. They wanted all neutrinos shorter than 3 feet to classify as property. That's like, almost half of them. The second most powerful is no better because they want all neutrinos who have antena to be executed. What is wrong with these people? What would Donnie do? The permanent social distancing faction. Eh, ruling that one out, too. Raph, probably the solving everything with love and snuggles faction. Nice but impractical against Kraang. Plus, their leader tried to make me assassinate the leaders of other factions so they might be messy. April would try to expose each of these dangerous liars, but it seems like everyone already knows they're corrupt. Mikey... he'd just take them over. I guess I could do that. I mean, I'm much bigger and stronger than all of them put together. No, then I would be ruling through force, and I've only lived here for 3 days. I can't decide what's best for them when they've survived well over a thousand years on their own. I think the best choice would be to leave. I can't be of any help here."

"Donnie! Time for breakfast!" Mikey shouts from outside the room

Click.

"I'll be right there"

"Was that Leo's voice? Is he awake?" He asks excitedly.

"No, just some recordings. Could you bring my dinner in here? I can't leave him alone."

"You look awful. Did you sleep? And, no, you can't have breakfast here because Draxum said he needs to look at your wounds." Mikey waves his arms around, showing off the new bandages and braces.

Donnie looks guiltily at Leo, still sleeping.

"I'll stay. I'll even snuggle him. He won't miss you a bit, " Mikey said teasingly, clearly trying to get a response.

And usually, that would get a rise out of him. But right now, Donnie doesn't want to be missed. He just doesn't want his brother to be alone anymore.

Donnie hasn't even left the room before Mikey's gotten all cuddly in bed with Leo. Turtle shells aren't exactly the softest blanket to wrap yourself in, but Leo probably wants to be touched way more than he wants to be comfortable. Besides, it's well past time for Donnie to get the cracks on this arm examined. Yeah, that's it. It's not like he's avoiding the other 2489 hours of Leo's mad ramblings.

"Hmn," Leo purrs,leaning into Mikeys affectionate embrace.

"I knew you'd appreciate a good cuddle 😘. Even if you sleep for a thousand years, I'll still hold you tight." A realization dawns on Mikeys face. "I might be dead by then, so you'll just be nuzzling a skeleton 🤭. But at that point, you really can't be picky."

good morning, donnatello. would you like to continue playing the recordings

"Shelldon, I'm Mikey. Donnie left the room."

do any of us truly leave the room

"What?"

playing recording

"Wait, no -"

"Nothing is real! All of it, it was a hallucination. The Neutrinos, the flying car, Barbara Walters, the village. It was just my imagination... is anything real? Is Kraang even real? Are you real?!"

"Leo?"

"IS THIS ALL THERE IS? Just wandering around forever, talking to myself, and making up others to talk to?"

"Leo," his voice fell flat this time.

"They're really not coming to save me. I probably told them not to. That sounds like me. But, I still thought. *sniff* This is so selfish. If they tried to get me out, they'd risk releasing Kraang. It's better this way. *sniff* They're better off without me. Sure, they'll be upset at first. But, then. Raph'll be less stressed, Donnie will be free to focus on his own projects instead of constantly building stuff I ask him to." He inhails unsteadily. "Someone else'll be team medic, probably Don or April, and they'll figure out that Mikey needs glasses. Real glasses. Which means he won't crash into stuff anymore because they'll actually deal with it instead of putting it off to avoid sneak attacks from doctor feelings, doctor delicate touch, and doctor positive." He sounds out of breath. "Dad finally won't have to deal with me either. He won't have to admit he was wrong to make me lead. And April can finally graduate without me constantly distracting her. *sniff* Th'this is b'better."

"Shelldon, stop the recording." Donnie says from the doorway.

"He, he," Mikey blubers out. "How long was he..." he's too mortified to finish.

"By this point, at least more than a month and 3 days. If we assume every 11 hours is another month. That means it would have taken 227 months to fill up the whole thing." Donnie pauses to see the horror in mikeys eyes. "That's 19 years."

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