#iv. filed / ooc !

[indigitalembrace]

((I JUST TRANSLATED THE FILES AND !! 🖤🤝 🐍 <- being entrusted with the safety of sonnys asjdjfjf)) -🖤

[I DID THAT FOR YOU LOL... 🐍 my rival.... my nemesis...]

[cybernexus]

shitpost:

Raj having to eat plant fertilizer because it pleases the vaguely plant based organisms his biometallic body is made from

[toxichem]

i created a cute new post divider that i might use between paragraphs, just for funsies. like para, icon, para, divider, para, so on and so on. tbd. im also keeping a tally of drafts/inbox, but tbh probably wont keep that for long

[tbdofficial]

Y'all watch Bob L’éponge?

[givcns]

Today is a good day to remind everyone that Raylan is the sluttiest of men.

[enccrypted]

i will Never stop thinking about a potential cryptrev au/fic in the style of Venom where (because crypto has such a heavy body mods due to his neuro link) something happens. idk what. but revenant somehow manages to upload himself basically into cryptos head and now they just share that space :)

i can see that in a situation where they're already working together and he just knows crypto inside and out enough that it's just the Automatic response his programming follows to preserve itself. or a freak accident bcuz torres silva does not know wtf he is dealing with

they could wreak so much havoc. get so much done when it comes to the syndicate/hammond because not only are they more inconspicuous when revenant's just hiding away in a random human's body, but they'd be basically neural linked. like a pilot and titan bond but Worse and if yr titan was like a demon rampaging inside your head. their thoughts get intertwined, planning together gets infinitely easier when it's all happening in yr own head, and crypto might even get confused what his own thoughts are anymore

and also depending on whether or not they already have a dynamic and what kind of dynamic, revenant could torment crypto so much lmfao. revenant could drive him to do the Worst things

[petitsdieu]

I'm getting a therapist for the first time in forever and I'm making her a PowerPoint. I'm a little distracted by that and the Sims but I am around! <3

[haresvoid]

Work got me drainneeedddd

[cybernexus]

RAJ - Sketch vs Colored

[anundyingfidelity]

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part I)

Summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 1,536.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Notes: As soon as I saw him my feminism left my body immediately and my inner voice agreed that I'd let him take away my human rights with no question. He's an absolute idiot, would sleep with him 100%.

Heads up as English is not my native language sooo, yeah you know what follows. Lord pls give me inspo to finish this fic, amen.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part I: For The Common Good

Two months.

Two months ago Grace Mallory decided to put the former greatest supe into sleep. Somehow, you managed to get in her head, explaining your new project to her and finding a new use for Soldier Boy, who had enough rest for 40 years.

You knew what happened at the Seven Tower, how Soldier Boy and Butcher's team ended up there to finally kill Homelander. Grace tried doing some shit against Vought before, but she never managed to win. It wasn't different this time. What was better then, that to develop a cure for supes like you, who didn't ask for it? People who never used their powers in public, nor seeked fame and money.

As a doctor in Chemistry, you were developing a cure for Compound V with a secret team. Suitable for you, you were in the same CIA tower Colonel Mallory decided to encapsulate Soldier Boy to, initially, spend the rest of his days in. You had luck Grace gave green light to the project, even though your team was already working on it without her approval anyway. But it was so much better if she found out properly.

Making your way to the super secured wing where Soldier Boy was held out of his sleep, you gripped the folder in your hands. You were scanned thoroughly before going inside a cold space, where two different crystal windows and metal doors separated the place. The armed guard guided you to the first room to check first through the window. You sighed, seeing a man sitting down, hands cuffed to a harsh steel table, gaze lost. It was him.

"The keys," you requested the guard by your side.

"Doctor-"

"I said, keys. He doesn't need to be cuffed."

He complied to your order, clearly annoyed but with a straight face and you walked to the closed door.

"If something happens, I can take care of myself. Don't let anyone inside understand?" you said.

He gave a nod. With that, he let you inside the room, the doors closing behind your back.

The prisoner observed you carefully as soon as you entered. His gaze was tired, but he seemed ready to attack, and it was completely hard to ignore his rough stare on you as you made your way to your seat in front of him. Soldier Boy observed you, placing the folder on the surface, and you held his gaze, not flinching for a second. Until you decided to talk first.

"I am glad you're awake. My name is Y/N, I am a doctor at the facility. Just wanna know how you're doing today," you spoke in a calm and soft way, so he could see you were not a threat.

He saw you roaming through the pages of the file, which he recognized as a copy of his file, and you took a pen from your lab coat to make some anotations.

"Not a smart move to let a fucking doctor here," he said with a deep voice, lips forming a straight line. "What do you want?"

"I want to help you."

"Cut the bullshit."

"I want to talk. If you let me, I will uncuff you so we can have a chat, like civilized people. Just don't try to escape, you won't go too far."

He raised an eyebrow as you reached his wrists and carefully, you set him free from the metal grip.

"I know what happened with Butcher and his boys," you said, confident that he would not try anything else. "About Homelander and your relationship with him."

"What the fuck do you know?" Soldier Boy tensed visibly hearing the name of the bastard. Still, he remained on his seat. "Want some info? You can lick Grace's pussy for that."

"She is, actually, the one who approved me to be here right now," you answered, brushing off his vocabulary. You used to deal with assholes like him all the time.

He scoffed. "Why?"

"Ben," you called his real name softly. "You've been sleeping for four decades. You deserve a second chance, I am offering you that. In some sort of way."

"I'm not going to be part of that freakshow-"

"This has nothing to do with Vought," you cut his words, his tone rising and you knew perfectly why. "You just need to be here in the facility, awake, in a dignified place we will give you so you can learn everything you missed. We can give you therapy, a comfy room, anything you want that's legal, of course..."

His jaw clenched, feeling you would ask for something more. "In exchange of what?"

"I know it's hard, unfortunately you won't be able to get out, but you don't deserve to sleep forever again," you sighed. "I will pay you visits and follow your improvements because you're human, after all. That's all I ask from you," you gave him a smile for the first time.

For a few moments, he said nothing, as if making up his mind about it. "Alright, anything but coming back to that shit hole. I need reefer though."

"Lucky you, that's legal now. We can certainly make it happen."

He looked around the room as you let him go inside first. Not the fanciest, not the shittiest. It had the basics: a bed, a sofa, a TV, a closet, a bookshelf with different books, magazines and newspapers he wasn't sure would read any time, a separate door for a bathroom, enough privacy, and no windows though. It wasn't really a cell, but he did look and felt somehow like a hostage. Just a little less if he could say.

"This is what we have for now, I am all ears if you request something else to have in here," you began as he paced around and tested the bed, sitting down on the mattress.

Ben still wasn't convinced on why you offered this to him. Sceptic, he gave a good look at you, roaming his eyes at your standing figure in a fucking lab coat. Christ, he hated those. Too pretty for a doctor, but too dumb to be locked with a supe like him. He was so tired that he didn't try and hit on you like he normally would with any walking pussy that appeared in plain sight. He was too exhausted to even give a shit.

"Lemme think about it, doctor."

"Of course, take your time," you replied as he walked toward the bookshelf, scanning through the titles there were. He recognized only half of them.

"So, I will be imprisoned here instead of a fucking eggshell," Ben said, turning around to meet you. "Charming," he smirked, dragging the words out of his mouth. "Doing charity."

He watched your face drop as you shook your head. "It's not like that-"

"Then why keep me awake?" Ben insisted as he gave steps to get close to you. "I can't die, it's much easier to force my sleep in a capsule your boss made specially for me."

He stopped mere inches in front of you, your eyes never turned away from him. He thought you were fucking brave just by keeping his dark gaze.

"Ben, I told you I will be watching your progress. You can grow from all of this with our help-"

"What kind of doctor are you?"

"A psychiatrist. That's why I'm here."

Ben scoffed with a grin showing on his lips. He didn't believe in that kind of shit, but oh, well. What was he gonna do about it? He was tired of sleeping, Mallory captured him, and you were here, giving him a shelter for no cost, but his freedom. In his mind, that was temporary of course. With time, a plan would come. Right now, he just needed to keep up with the fucked up things of the modern world.

"I guess you would come and babysit me then," he said, going back to take a sit on the bed.

"Wouldn't use 'babysit you' but I will come to see you, that's for sure."

He nodded. Silence was his answer, so you continued.

"Just general rules. Our people will bring you three meals a day, if you're missing something that you need then just push the button by the door, there will be guards outside to assist you on that. Also, there are clothes your size on the closet and personal products so you can change and take a shower," he stayed silent again, just taking in your words. "If you don't need anything then I leave you to get comfortable," you said, about to leave.

"Wait. I do need something," he hesitated for a moment, but he continued anyway. "Don't use those lab coats when you come in."

Your eyes widened, he quickly realised you already knew why he was requesting that when you started to take off the coat, revealing your formal attire. You wrapped the coat on your arm and cleaned your throat.

"I totally understand, I will keep that in mind when I come tomorrow. And I will ask for your reefer too."

You flashed a final polite smile and left him to get settled. Ben breathed out. Fuck, he really needed a shower.

[asvtrials]

LUNCH [one.]

Navarro x fem!reader

minors dni!

summary: After a rather nasty breakup with Bjorn you try to avoid the group as much as possible and you're doing a good job until you find yourself in Corbelan IV with your best friend. warnings: angst, not proofread, maybe ooc, swearing, part two will contain smut. a/n: This fic is very much inspired by LUNCH by Billie Eilish specifically the following lyrics "I've said it all before, but I'll say it again, I'm interested in more than just bein' your friend. I don't wanna break it, just want it to bend. Do you know how to bend?" sooo... w/c: 2360

You tried to ignore the continuous vibrations of your wristwatch, continuing to move away from the truck, the rough handles of the box scraping your palms. You let the box hit the ground with a loud thud, the annoying buzzing sound made you groan 

It's been almost a month since you and Bjorn broke up but the hurtful words that were thrown your way still stung you. Who are you kidding, you said some nasty bullshit too.

It was always like that with Bjorn. Some laughs and good sex that left you satisfied to ignore the dysfunction in your relationship, if you can even call it.

He never called it that, never even called you his girlfriend, never asked you out, never told you how much he liked you—unless it was after sex and he was all fucked out. It was always, his ‘friend’, his ‘buddy’, his ‘something’ but you never felt like he was yours. 

So all that bubbling anger and insecurity led to a fight more intense than any you’ve ever had and you stormed out.

You felt guilty every time you came up with an excuse to avoid a meeting until you simply didn't answer at all.

You did this, you distanced yourself from them and you had no right to be hurt but you couldn't help the sting that followed every time you saw the name of the caller

It was always Kay, sometimes Rain and Tyler, and you loved them all. But never the person you considered your closest friend.

Being in such a fickle situation, you often found yourself thinking who would stick around. They were all family and you were just an outsider, even if they never made you feel like it, you knew it was true.

But there was always someone that made you feel like something more. You didn’t know how, or why but she did. Navarro.

You thought you built something, a friendship and you weren't just her brother's boyfriend. But you must've been mistaken, because there wasn't a time you saw her name pop on the wristwatch.

But that didn't matter anymore.

The day was unbearable. Everything was annoying you and you had to restrain yourself from throwing the drill to the ground and walking away several times throughout the day.

When it was finally time to clock out after eleven exhausting hours you rushed to the locker room and got your things.

Normally you'd just walk right out, the supervisors ignoring you like they ignored the rest of the workers, but this time one of them stopped you before you could reach the door.

“Worker #233 your shift isn't finished.”

“What?” You frowned. “Eleven hours, I just clocked out” You argued, turning to face the guard.

“You owe the company eight more hours according to our records.” He spoke, voice monotone.

“What are you talking about? I didn't miss any days and I wasn't late a single day.” You were starting to lose your patience and it was clear in your voice. You just wanted to go home and crash on your bed.

“You have registered to fill in for another worker, yet you never fulfilled the quota. Worker #5583.” He informed you. You stared at him, clearly confused. “Marie Rain Carradine if the files are correct.” He corrected in irritation.

Fuck. 

This one time Rain fell down hard, hitting her knee in the process. The poor girl couldn't even walk straight, so you offered to take her place, take her home, and fill in the hours when you were needed. Did it have to be today?

“You are needed in the spacecraft maintenance department.” He told you, clearly as tired of this conversation as you were. 

“Seriously? Maintenance?” You raised a brow.

“You want to go back to the mines” He countered, quickly silencing you.

You returned to the clock-in room with a loud sigh, not really caring to hide your exhaustion as you approached the counter. You stared at the lady behind the glass, eyes tired and uninterested. 

The lady didn't seem to care as she took your worker's card and scanned it.

“Y/n L/n, right? You are assigned to perform a maintenance assessment on ‘Corbelan IV’.” She announced and gave you back your card, expecting you to get the tools and get out but you stared at the woman with wide eyes. She stared back at you, her gaze confused.

“Corbelan IV?” You asked, hoping you misheard.

“Yes, there's a shortage in staff” She answered unenthusiastically.

No, fuck no.

“Isn't, um, isn't there another ship?” You hesitantly asked. 

Panic started to sip through you while the woman lowered her glasses, staring at you disapprovingly.

“Like— isn't there another ship? Or something—anything, really.” You rambled the more the woman stared.

She raised a brow before pushing the card closer to you and turning back to her computer screen, seemingly done with the conversation.

“Fucking cunt” you mumbled under your breath as you grabbed the card.

You grabbed the tools from the shelf and walked out, the cold air hitting your face again. But you refused to move any faster, trying to stall as much as you could.

You spend too much time on this ship to know that it wasn't just any mining hauler, it was Navarro's baby. And most of the time the entire crew was there “cleaning and checking” it. In reality, you were there to drink and laugh and maybe actually do your work.

When you finally arrived you stared at the enormous craft for a while. This is going to be awkward…

You walked around until you finally found the ladder and pushed yourself up. Once you entered the ship you didn't hear any chatter from inside, even though the gate was wide open.

You just hoped Bjorn wasn’t here and by the quietness that filled this place, you guessed he wasn’t.

You walked deeper into the ship finding the second ladder to the cockpit and climbing, your boots making noise in contrast to how quiet the entire ship was.

“Kay, that you?” 

Navarro. You should have guessed.

You stopped in your tracks, hearing her deep voice after so long sent shivers down your spine.

“Uh, no. Not Kay.” You spoke after a beat.

The silence around you shifted into an uncomfortable silence so intense that you considered turning around and walking away.

But the sound of the small hum forced you to stay put.

No turning back now.

You continued climbing, finally seeing the yellow light of Navarro’s desk light. You forced yourself to lift your eyes once you stepped into the cockpit. 

There she was, awkwardly standing with her arms folded as she leaned against the back of her pilot seat watching you.

“Hey.” She spoke softly. She really tried to seem relaxed but her hand slowly lifted to scratch the back of her neck.

Such a funny habit of hers. You remember trying to keep yourself from giggling every time you saw her in awkward situations. She looked so unbothered until you noticed how she nervously rubbed the back of her neck.

It wasn't funny now.

Your eyes avoided her as you spoke “Hey.”

You remembered the toolbox in your hand and lifted it a bit to hopefully divert her attention to the item.

Her eyes took some time to leave your face, slowly falling to the toolbox. A small frown appeared on her face but it was quickly pushed away. “Oh yeah.” she mumbled.

You tensed as she approached you, leaning closer to you to take the object from your hand. You tried to ignore how close her cheek was to yours or how cold her fingers were when they gently wrapped around yours—well not around your hand but the handle of the toolbox.

Her fingers were always cold, no matter how warm the place was. She would always stand behind you, her tall physique made it very easy for her to rest her chin on your head or shoulder as her hands slid inside your pockets, squeezing your warm hands in hers and laughing when you yelped at the contact.

This time her fingers quickly moved away, taking the box with her. Her boots thud loudly against the metal floor as she walked to her pilot chair and placed the object on the cushiony seat.

The uncomfortable silence made you feel compelled to start the conversation.

“How have you been?” You asked quietly, awkwardly moving closer to her.

“Fine. You?” She answered, her loud rummaging through the toolbox echoing across the empty ship.

You weren't sure If you wanted to be truthful—if she wanted to hear about her brother's ex talking shit about him.

But she was your friend, right? You weren't just Bjorn's girlfriend all this time, right?

You ignored your consciousness screaming for you to keep your mouth shut.

You embarrassingly noticed the sweat that covered your hands and quickly wiped them on your shirt suddenly glad that the girl was turned the other way.

“Not that good, if I'm being honest” You replied with a small sigh.

The girl froze for a moment, not sure how to respond to your honesty. Eventually, she turned to face you with a hesitant smile appearing on her face momentarily “I get it. Breakups are tough.” 

“It wasn't a breakup” You argued, you couldn't contain the bitterness in your tone. “ We were never together to begin with.” 

You wanted to stop—really, but you just couldn't. With a groan, you slumped on a nearby seat.

“I mean don't get me wrong, being in a relationship with someone like Bjorn sounds like an actual nightmare—No offense…” You quickly added, sending Navarro an apologetic look.

“None taken,” Navarro said with a chuckle slowly approaching you. “Trust me, shit-talking Bjorn isn't new to me”

“Yeah.” You laughed, throat closing up a bit when she sat on the seat next to you.

“So I'm all ears. Why do you hate Bjorn—sorry, that asshole” She said with a mischievous smile.

But suddenly you didn't want to talk about Bjorn.

You couldn't.

Having her next to you after so long felt too good. So good that you couldn't stop your lips from curling into a smile.

“I don't want to talk about him.” He murmured, eyes meeting her amused ones.

“I missed talking to you, Varro.” You whispered, bumping her shoulder with your own softly. There was a certain melancholy in your tone, a small question lingering in your mind.

“Why didn't you call?”

You watched the playfulness in her eyes slowly turn into something else, something like guilt.

Maybe she was thinking the same thing, because she wasn't answering, just searching in your eyes for something before suddenly standing

Your eyes followed her with a frown as she walked to the pilot seat sitting down. Everything about her changed. Her friendly demeanor flipped to a much more distant one.

You hesitantly stood up. “I know I didn't answer and all but I didn't know what to say, i mean you guys are Bjorn's family” You tried to defend yourself while staring at the back of her head.

But the only thing Navarro offered you was a slow nod.

“I would've answered to you.” You confessed, blood rushing to your cheeks.

It was true. If Navarro called you you'd pick up the call without a second thought, the idea of hearing her voice enough to make you push past initial awkwardness.

She paid no mind to you, didn't even spare you a glance yet you were standing here like an idiot, essentially begging for her forgiveness. You bit your lip, cheeks burning with shame.

“I know. That's why I didn't call you” The words came out quick. Too quick. Her own eyes widened and she immediately turned to face you, obviously surprised that she let those words slip out.

You just stared at each other for a long beat, not sure what to say.

“That sounded wrong, I didn't mean it like t—” She attempted.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shouted, the burning in your cheeks was now a product of anger.

She sighed, running a hand through her buzzed head but her lack of response only fuelled your anger.

“What am I inconveniencing you by coming here? By talking to you?” You asked, not expecting an answer before continuing “I'm sorry Navarro, I thought we were fucking friends!” 

“We are!” Navarro began, attempting to approach you. You could see the remorse in her eyes but you couldn't stand here anymore, the stinging in your eyes becoming unbearable

No, you weren't going to cry here, you weren't going to fall this low.

“Clearly we fucking weren't!” You spoke as you walked to the ladder, climbing down without missing a beat. “Cause it looks like all I fucking was, was Bjorn’s girlfriend that you had to put up with” 

“That's fucking bullshit!” Navarro argued but it didn't matter anymore, you were going down faster, getting out of her eyesight.

The girl walked closer, looking down at you from the gap on the floor but you refused to look up.

“Y/n you can't seriously believe that shit!” Navarro's desperate voice echoed in the ship and as the elevator got closer to the surface of the ship, you jumped down with a loud thud. 

You don't remember how you got out of there. You don't even remember what stupid excuse you came up with to tell the supervisors but you remember Navarro trying to call out your name. 

The moment you got home you tossed your clothes to the ground and got inside the shower.

The moment the water fell on your burning body you felt the walls around you crack. With a choked sob your tears started flowing.

Navarro was special, she was special to you. And you thought you were special to her too.

The way she talked to you, the way she comforted you, the way she looked at you.

When you laid in your bed feeling small and pathetic and a like fucking moron for believing that you weren't just Bjorn's ‘friend’ and now ex all this time.

[kandisheek]

Cap-Ironman Rec Week 2024

Smut Saturday: July 27th

Prompt: Give all the recs for those spicy fanworks that make your blood run hot or make your heart thump harder.

Smut, you say? Smut, you get. I had to really restrain myself from reccing my entire list of bookmarks, and the selections was harder than it should have been, but here are some of my favorite smut fics of all time:

-- Torque and Friction by BewareTheIdes15

The armor is his religion. And, c'mon, does anyone really expect that Tony Stark wouldn't want to have sex with his religion? He's just never found anybody before who could handle it.

-- Against The Norm by justanotherStonyfan

When Steve and Tony wake up to find that they've been captured, they assume things can't get any worse. They're wrong.

-- Good Vibrations by isozyme

Steve had sounded like he really genuinely wanted to see Tony and hear about the new robot-heart and Stark Solutions, so Tony decided that a weekend trip was worth it to see his friend in person. His friend, Tony had reminded himself. Not anything else. It wasn’t fair to Steve if Tony spent their entire visit thinking un-friend-like thoughts about him, and his muscles, and his sweet smile and his careful, firm hugs. However, Tony had a plan. All he needed to do was to tire his dick out on the way over, and he’d be fine. Fortuitously, the Mark 20 had a few brand-new bells and whistles that would help him blow off some steam before meeting up with Steve. Tony built a fucking machine inside the armor. It would be a shame if it malfunctioned in the worst possible way, at the worst possible time, in front of the worst possible person.

MORE RECS BELOW THE CUT:

-- dick drunk by mistymountainking

“I’m going to fuck you stupid,” Steve says, pulling away only a fraction of an inch to say it, a promise as deep and certain as the look in his eyes, “and you’re going to take it. Aren’t you, Tony.” Tony wants a drink. Steve gives him something else.

-- Steve's a Sensitive Boy by Unosarta

Steve's uncircumcised and no one has ever known what to do with him. Tony knows exactly what to do.

-- Exerted by orphan_account

Unabashed, self-serving, OOC porn in which Steve humps the Mark IV armor and fun is had by all.

-- Unfurl Your Gown by theladyingrey42

"I feel ridiculous." Steve scowls at his drink and pretends he's not shifting just to feel the skirt against his thighs.

-- Operation Spank Bank by fohatic

Tony really shouldn't be hacking into classified SHIELD files behind Steve's back. Steve is a SHIELD agent, now—as well as Tony's captain—and this sort of thing reflects badly on him. So why is there a locked file titled "Operation Spank Bank" on Tony's private OS? And why hasn't Steve been briefed about any such operation? The file is password protected, but Steve has an eidetic memory and has seen Tony enter it, before -- it would serve Tony right if Steve were to 'hack the hacker' and learn for himself what "Operation Spank Bank" is all about...

And two of my own fics:

-- Beating the Heat

It's too hot to do anything but lie in bed together. Steve and Tony find ways to entertain themselves.

-- Til Death Do Us Part

Steve and Tony work as stand-ins for other people's marriages. They've gotten married thirty-six times, thirty-seven if you count their own wedding six years ago, but they still enjoy it every time. The honeymoons are the best part though.

[armagnac-army]

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

Lᴇ Qᴜᴀʀᴛɪᴇʀ Gᴇ́ɴᴇ́ʀᴀʟ ᴅᴜ Mᴀʀᴇ́ᴄʜᴀʟ Lᴀɴɴᴇs

SALIUT ALL U ASSHOLES ON WHATEVER THE F THIS IS! This is your fucking excellency marshal jean lannes here, duke of montebello, prince of some fuckin place in poland but who can be bothered princing poland that place is full of mud and assholes!!

If you want to pick a fight with me then me and my boys will fuck u right back up, got it? But if youre chill than were chill.

VIVE LEMPEREUR!!!!!!!

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

Out Of Character

(( Hello! This is a joke RP ask blog portraying Marshal Jean Lannes (wikipedia link), one of Napoleon Bonaparte's elite military commanders and best friend, played by @cadmusfly because @apurpledust is a bad influence!

This comedic version of Jean Lannes is a loud capslocking ragingly enthusiastic blogger who enjoys sheep and has anger issues. He will not be bothered spelling things correctly. He dislikes the English and royalists, and is fiercely patriotic and protective of his friend Napoleon. The language is extremely anachronistic, slangy and inaccurate.

But he can be serious, sincere and emotional. He is filled with regrets for his marriages, particularly his second which was arranged, and how duty kept him distant from his kids. He's painfully aware that his loyalty to Napoleon brought him to his tragic and painful death. He is bombastic, but he is also filled with melancholic reflection.

While this portrayal is ahem, inspired by history, it is not intended to be accurate or faithful to the actual historical figure. This is just an entertaining parodic fictionalised version, and not meant to be actual analysis, commentary or endorsement.

If you send asks to or tag this blog, you might get an in-character response, probably in all caps! If you follow him, he might reblog your posts.

There is some Worldbuilding Lore behind Lannes' appearance in this afterlife, but it's not required knowledge to interact with him!

So yeah, feel free to send Lannes some asks or interact with him! And i also accept "magic anons" that mess with him magically, though like with asks I reserve the right to delete any or answer them at my leisure.

I also play the grumpy Marshal Jean-de-Dieu Soult at @murillo-enthusiast, who does occasionally appear here sometimes! ))

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

Organisation

DIRECTORY OF THE ASSHOLES I INTERACT WITH - tagged with their blog name!!!

OOC Discord Server for the Napoleonic Roleplay Scene

@rapports-de-combat - Posts that get too long are filed here!

#dispatches from the marshal - all of the documentation here

#letters intercepted for the marshal’s eyes - things ive been asked to respond to!

#the adc makes a visual representation of the marshal - drawings of me by the adc!

#the adc makes visual representations - drawings by the adc in general!

#portrait of the marshal - shared pictures of me!

#merino sheeps - pictures of sheeps i like

#accoutrements of the marshal - my old shit

#affairs not of state - Extramarital historically unattested relationships such as “Lannap” >;]

#guest starring the Duke of Dalmatia - For some reason, Marshal Jean-de-Dieu Soult is occasionally present. His communications are in orange and italicised. He now has his own letter column at @murillo-enthusiast.

#guest starring that floppy haired son of a bitch - For another reason, sometimes Marshal Bessières is also present.

—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—·—

[indigitalembrace]

[ooc: since this is a long message I’m not encoding it, but it is encrypted in-universe]

spooky. sup.

i got somthin big cookin. but for this to work i need intel.

first, i need a favour. i cant do much thanks to the watchdog. i so much as twitch my fingers on the keyboard in the wrong place an time and this whole operation will come crashin down. so. if u can, watch the shrimp for me when they are online doin mundane stuff. because if they do stuff like use social media, play games that require a registered account, use their email and especially if they get online deliveries to their house, those all will have info that will help me figure out where they live irl.

second: tell me everything u know about how pinkie can access an affect the real world. whats the limitations. how much warning would i get. what r the access points. do devices need power for it to be able ta use em? how functional do they have to be? would pinkie be able to exit a screen the size of a pager or somthin? does it need an internet connection to jump pcs or can it do that without it?

and can it be hurt in the real world? can it be hurt by destroying its host device while its occupyin it? or is the only way to kill it digitally? did you ever have a program specifically set up for that (if so, y u no gimmie dat earlier!? rude!). how long would it take?

also any info u have picked up on shrimp or their livin space that might be useful for an irl confrontation would be suuuuuper handy as well.

give me all ya got on all these things. if its a lot, just send me a zip file or somthin lol.

i do have some unfortunate news. i think we gotta change our 'meeting site' soonish. ill send ya some prospectives later. i have a feelin that it might get compromised.

i mayyyyyy have poked the shrimp with a stick. don’t worry, they wont be able to tell the actual pc I used. I am da disquise master. it is me. also i lied. ive scrounged up some burner laptops anyway. my friends r awesome (dont worry they aint involved they just knew I needed the laptops for reasons and they are used to me Enacting Shenanigans).

oh. And one last thing. when I get there, hightail off that pc asap. im gonna signal u and give you a path to a safe pc. Do Not Hesitate. cuz trust me no matter how I decide ta play this u will *not* wanna be on that computer when im doin my thing. and ill almost certainly be disabling the wi-fi in the process.

id like u ta not be double dead. low key fond of ya spookster.

Goblin out

[ooc: If there is a lot of info to give and you don’t want to post it all here, message me and we can work something out like a google doc or something. Or maybe there’s not much for Sonny to say. I dunno, I’m not driving this crazy train lol]

[ENCRYPTED MESSAGE] Ty. Kqgwkh'j tpx cex nhw voe zrtpxf rec tpx rrmr ywn bvxu… lcvyzep fwk mfn, ye'a wwjmiakmsu. Ted abbtx Z czxokxu hqf… W bgfw zbuym nhmks yx jtwksj xmezrhybeg. [SENDING ENCRYPTED FILE "SHRIMP_DATA.zip"] Myab lvfncd ptjv xmezrhybeg ghi exvd. Qm'g vovrgmvzgx tpth jipivz afgjtmk yehns. Ghi dtp nwm vrov mcvv ntinqgu navn px uvmj avzfp. Xmev t qffgubxf tkrspbbx pfn'b lhfi yiu. As ytj fcez thetzhz fovr bas jrjtmf, pfmy ibl vrkuwiks rgu swyhntie. Bas dhjt qgjrlzvm iffziau B'jv xmez lsvg. Zf ghi jxv hql tfkd sbtfk mf cptbxx, rnl as'j zioeg wemf a nhfd pztp vzrpj, ib'l hfh cabx. Wk'l vxbko khf lims zy ye ohsj betw awj lyalhk-chfkqgu whim. Px ceep dwxg kart ease av's zxocep, rmtzcr gialsu ted thgzgx cwghihc on awj xdobbcel. Khmks zl… eo etm kh wioah fk fubkie azm, aacim ff jhcbbeg qm hf mye vxoixjt xeotx waz yoi tnag yfff rng xzvvkrwgwt wvvqvsj. B uo vhh bgfw phk ktcl ghi rkv, bcm W uhlbb rcl tie wosi mvn igr r arln ysvm kate. Vv'l rlah trlk. Efmfvfvlg yojm. Rnl mvzgbs ynwtdcy, bhc, vovn qy vv wfeag'h dtbe bas dhjt zthzheat wstbjiwgg. Z wf nwm yehn hql zzfztimwfgj iv msifj on lqixvn abnv, ult Q wc bgfw pbg andpqgu wkfm avfvxe tw lqixvn wnhjbue bas ubxibtz nhill lsvfj ivwsgxedmgh fy rn qghvkeeb vcegvcbbce. Fp bmlh kavozr wj myab tg r wzgqmoc uvivz, vv bj ciiosev on zsexiabbbx azs wpb thenmvhzhe on lcdx jozm, plm vvmg W uhe't nnzcr lnlxfjmrnl awd. B lsmw hf arvm t yzec sebhta ff ahfkl. R bivyuhfr bh rvevtm awj lvrdxfj. Nefwkhlgrtmem, yx wocgr kart utbp rvazl oxh. Jeiesu bk ux, wsjmiogxr nartmosi av cwnzu, vyavzsu tcl bas gtjsehful. Nhimsmxi ywn rf, rfuz usjm thigqv hw sckjzorl ql hf frkm liix ye lhsjg'k smx mfn, fr pxoi rfu, wk smxe nwmwtx poc'ks kavrm. Mvrm jhzbag gvvmk zvtmea mvvbi rwha, yheeamzp, ted Sbbzmf's iekrrj wimqybeg. Ghi exvd bh ardv scks yx zsv'm ocxitmw, ci bk's otav hmez yci rfu. Ohcu elcs, fm wkzevw. Gktp siys.

[sebastian--solace]

HEY- UH- SEBASTIAN IVE FOUND THE MISSING FILE- I think it might be a little outdated though- so- take this with a grain of salt -tec

(Ooc: had to not be anomalous to send the picture-)

"You found it? Gimmie!"

He takes the file from your hands and reads it. His eyes widen upon reading what's in the file.

[slimeyslimeyballsack]

A Very Crossover Crime

Fandoms: Suite Life on Deck, Z-O-M-B-I-E-S, Criminal Minds, My Little Pony, My Babysitter's a Vampire

Written for @tom-hunter-summah

Parties that may be interested: @whatthekidscallbolt @diagnosed-crazy @calico-kiwi

Warnings: terribly ooc writing, swearing, violence, death, major character death, mentions of SA

Notes: for the sake of clarity the teens are all roughly 19/20, pronouns are whatever i want them to be, fuck bailey all my homies hate bailey, ive never seen my little pony

"Hey Erica, I don't know if this is a good idea."

Rory yelled over the noise of the wind as they flew over Washington. He only kind of knew what was going on as Erica had interrupted him in the middle of his game, announcing she was hungry before promptly leaving again. In the time after the Whitechapel explosion, something had changed between them. Maybe it was because they were the only person she knew, but Erica was choosing to be around them more and more often. Of course, she was still Erica, but the scathing comments became more lighthearted. They were truly becoming friends. Which is why Rory followed her after her surprise outburst; they knew she expected them to.

"It'll be fun. I've always wanted to try zombie blood," she tossed a wink at them as they landed.

"I just think The Council-"

"Bup bup bup. Who do you trust more, the council or me?" she fluttered her lashes.

"Well, you of course," their grin huge.

"Then let's go."

They landed just outside of Seabrook, Washington. Hopping a tall fence placed them in a rundown section of the town, decorated in scrap metal. From what they understood the town was divided into two, humans and zombies, or it was before things got complicated. It was loud and quiet at the same time. There was remarkably little wildlife. It almost unnerved Rory, though they supposed the two vamps may have spooked the local critters, instinct telling them to run and hide. On the other hand, there were voices everywhere. Some were hushed, others big and boisterous. Rory plodded along behind Erica, puppy dog posture contradictory to her cat-like posture. Her sharp eyes, looking for someone that wouldn't be missed.

After what seemed like a hundred hours of searching, well, it's hard to say Rory was searching, but, after a hundred hours of walking, they found two young men smoking a cigarette. Erica gave Rory a look, signaling the attack.

"Oh my god; this is delicious!"

Rory simply nodded enthusiastically in response.

"Now this I could get used to."

_

Two Weeks Later

"Sixteen bodies found in the last two weeks. All in Seabrook, Washington. All victims have been zombies with two puncture wounds in the neck. They were drained of blood." Hotch lectured.

"So what, we've got a vampire on our hands?" Morgan quirked an eyebrowm

Reid piped in, "Or someone who thinks they are. There's actually a popular subculture filled with people who identify as vampires. They wear fangs and sometimes even drink blood"

"Well, whatever they are they're not slowing down. The Seabrook police department has asked us to come in. They want us in by morning."

Hotch's statement signaled they were finished and he dismissed the others to get ready for their flight.

Several hours after their initial briefing, the group sat in the jet, reviewing the case. Everyone was at least two and a half cups deep into their coffee, deciphering eyes staring at the case file. Opinions being thrown back and forth.

JJ spoke up, "Look at the bruising around the neck. It almost looks like-"

"Hickeys," Morgan quirked his eyebrows at the realization.

"According to the autopsy report, the bodies showed no sign of sexual assault. They declared that the bruises were from strangulation." Rossi added, not entirely believing the statement, simply trying to relay it.

Emily, unhappy with this answer, kept on. "Yeah, but I think they might be misidentifying them. Look at the layout of the bruises. Does that look like a human hand to you?"

"It very well could be a misidentification," Reid spoke slowly, eyebrows furrowed as he flipped back and forth between the photos of the victims. "Understanding of zombie biology is very limited. In fact, humans in Seabrook didn't start interacting with them until the "Z-Band" was invented in 1985, and hardly at all beyond that until 2020 after an act passed allowing zombie children to attend regular high school."

"So you're telling me we're working off of nothing?" Morgan said, exasperated.

"Well, not nothing. Look at the puncture wounds on the victims. They're different sizes. That, coupled with the fact that the victims are killed in pairs..."

"We're looking at partners," Rossi finished for Reid.

_

"Now kiddos, before you get off the boat I want to remind you that we're only staying here for a couple days. Don't forget the buddy system, and please be back on the boat by..."

Miss Tutweiller trailed off, the group already having left her sight.

"I can't believe she's still calling us kiddos. We graduated a year ago," Cody remarked.

"Yeah, well maybe if you stopped acting like one she would. I mean, look at that fanny pack," Zack pointed out.

"I'll have you know that this fanny pack—"

"Would you two shut up? You're both acting like kids," Bailey sniped.

Zack, Cody, Woody, and Bailey walked around the Main Street square of Seabrook, Washington. It was abnormally barren, considering the gorgeous weather. Only a few lonely bodies walked the streets. Most of them were people from the ship. Actually, looking at it Cody realized they were all people from the ship.

"Ooh, frozen yogurt. I hope they have double seaberry swirl," Woody grinned excitedly.

They ducked into the frozen yogurt shop, relieved to find at least someone from the town occupying it: A teen couple, a gray-skinned, green-haired boy across the table from a white-haired girl with healthier-looking skin. They looked frightened if she was being honest. That is until a hand was shoved into their faces.

"Well howdy there. I'm Bailey. Wah wah wah. Wah wah."

She continued introducing them. She was speaking. He was sure of it.

"So you haven't heard," the girl, Addison, spoke.

"There's been murders here in Seabrook. Everyone's scared out of their minds."

If murder wasn't enough to make her jump out of her seat then murders plural sure was.

"Hehe. What?" Zack chuckled nervously, mouth left open, hand hanging loosely in half protest.

"That's it! I'm out of here, seaberry swirl or not!" Woody ran from the parlor.

Zack followed after him, "Hey, Woody. Wait—"

He was cut off abruptly after running into something. Or someone, it would appear. It was a blonde guy about his age, a little shorter than him.

"Well, hello there good lookin'," Zack smirked.

"Well, don't you look tasty," came another voice.

A blonde girl was standing beside him, their tongue gliding across their lower lip as they studied Zack.

"Wow, double babe alert."

"I'm Erica, and this is my..." the girl did a once over on the guy next to her, "friend, Rory." Rory gave him a grin.

"I'm Zack."

"You know Zack, it's not safe to be out here all alone," Erica dragged her finger down his arm, "Things are pretty scary around here."

Zack, only slightly distracted by the touch, responded, "Aha, but I'm not alone. I've got my pal Woody with me," he looked around, "Woody?"

"You were saying?"

"Zack, there you are. Why did you run off like that? Didn't you hear what that girl said? People are getting murdered. Where's Woody?"

Cody quickly interrupted the tension. Whether or not that was for the better, Zack couldn't tell yet.

"You guys look a little lost," Erica said, eyeing up Cody and Bailey, "Let us show you around. We can help you find your friend."

Bailey spoke some words of confirmation, and Erica pushed herself between Bailey and Cody, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders. Rory placed themself next to Zack, and they began walking.

_

Hotch stood in front of the entire Seabrook police department. He despised their demeanor, how little they seemed to care about the nightmarish events happening beneath their noses. As if every zombie in this town could be killed and they still wouldn't give a damn. The whole town was just a tad too cheery, the pastel exterior simply a facade, hiding terrible horrors inside. Something was off, but he couldn't tell what. He cleared his throat, gathering the attention of the room.

"You're looking for a pair: a man and a woman between the ages 18 and 25. They are going to be very close to each other, possibly siblings or partners. They are incredibly loyal to each other and will die before turning the other in. The woman is going to be the dominant partner. She is calling all of the shots," Hotch finished presenting the profile and stepped off the podium.

"You think they'll listen?" Rossi asked.

"I'm not sure."

"They don't seem too interested in catching these guys," Emily added.

"We need to be out there. We need to be doing something," Morgan said.

"No. We've been instructed to stay at the station. We are going to stay at the station," Hotch retorted.

Morgan stormed off. He found a bench outside of the station and sat on it. Huffing, he picked up his cell phone.

"Babygirl, what can you tell me about Seabrook."

_

"Erica! What are we going to do? There's police everywhere. I can't go to jail!"

Rory was panicking. The other three had all needed to use the bathroom and Rory had taken the time to panic.

"Relax; they're on our side remember?"

Erica placed a soft grip on her shoulder, physically comforting her but still giving a look that said 'Dude, duh'.

"Oh. Right," Rory chuckled embarrassedly.

"Now as soon as the cops get here, Bailey and Cody are going to attack us, and the cops are going to arrest them, and then we get to go home with some major cash in our pockets," they winked at her.

"Well, not home."

Even Erica seemed a little dejected at that statement. She missed Whitechapel. She missed Sarah. It had been three years. Three years of wandering. The two had never really assimilated into the group, always kind of outsiders, never making any real friends.

Erica noticed several officers loitering, several with hands hovering their weapons.

"Hey guys I—"

Bailey and Cody quickly grabbed Rory and Erica, bearing their teeth. There was a look of fear in both of their eyes. What the fuck was going on?

"Help!" Erica screamed. The two began to let out cries.

"What are you doing?" Cody whispered. "How are you doing this?"

Erica looked at her and gave a small grin before continuing her yelling. The police officers, now aware of the situation raised their weapons, pointing toward the scene.

"Step away from them and put your hands in the air," an officer shouted.

Erica released her hold on Cody, panting slightly, two people under her control was pushing her limit. Cody quickly removed herself from Erica, taking several steps back, hands in the air.

"Ma'am, step away from the man."

Bailey opened her mouth and—bang! Bailey crumpled to the ground.

"Bailey!" Cody screamed. He fell to his knees, sobbing.

The police took the opportunity to run in, cuffing Cody before lifting her, dragging her across the pavement before they pushed her into the back of the car.

_

Zack stared, horrified at what had just happened. Cody and Bailey had attacked Erica and Rory. Why did they do that? Why did they do that? Why didn't Bailey let go when the police showed up? Why did she try to bite Rory? Bailey was dead. They shot her. He watched it happen. He didn't do anything. He just sat and watched. What the hell happened? It was a blur as the three of them were escorted to the station for witness statements. He had half a mind to think that there should've been an ambulance, but he didn't have the voice to ask why there wasn't. Where was Woody? He hadn't seen him since the yogurt shop. He noticed, not only the police as they entered the station. Is that the FBI? They sat him at a table in an interrogation room. He was given some water and snacks.

"Now son," an officer sat in front of him, "tell me what happened."

"My friends attacked those guys."

In the lobby, Erica and Rory were talking to another officer.

"Well done, you've done much to help with our little zombie problem. You two can go ahead and go home."

Erica gave Rory a high five and a grin. "Let's go home."

A bright purple light flashed just outside of Seabrook. Twilight Sparkle looked around at her friends and their new human forms. They had made it to Seabrook. "Come on everypony; there's a friendship crisis that needs solving!"

End.