#like yeah the war was technically not over but sure as hell could have stopped their

[ya-boi-haru]

Thinking about how Fable smp was about the history and aftermath of a war and it wasn't until Fable came back it became a battlefield again

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: hells greatest dad—various artists

↳ notes: this turned out way longer than expected. reblogs are appreciated

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• What you did with your spare time outside the hotel had never been a problem

• Everyone blew off steam in different ways. Husk gambled is days away at dinghy bars, Vaggie practiced sparing, and Sir Pentious dreamed up designs for his retired war machines. The important thing was that everyone knew better than to ask the other about it

• So your friendship with Lucifer never come up. At least, not until Charlie decided to invite her dad over one day

• You were well aware of the strange relationship you had with the king of hell. He was all powerful ,and technically your ruler, sure, but it was hard to view him that way after you caught him babying a small army of rubber ducks

• It had been such a long time since you’d first met him, honestly you were still surprised you’d remembered it

• Back when you still worked as a part time package deliverer for the UPS equivalent of hell, you’d been tasked with handing off a rather heavy, and rather odd shaped box. The label didn’t give an address, rather a small drawing of an apple with a snake curled around it

• It took you a while, and way too many u-turns, to arrive at a pair of tall metal gates

• An uncertain push of a button had been delivered to a nearby buzzer, and you briefly wondered if you had been sent on a dead end errand. Your boss liked to do that; said it kept his employees on their toes. You just thought that he enjoyed seeing the pissed off looks of returnees

• Nothing longer than a minute passed before you were answered with an overjoyed voice, sounding rushed and getting father away from the mic as he proclaimed ‘I’ll be right down Terrance!!’

• It was only when Lucifer himself had opened the gates to allow you in, that his face fell from an excited grin into one of confusion

• “Oh. You’re not my normal guy.” He frowned, looking up at you slightly. “Are you sure you have my package.”

• You simply showed him the address label’s drawing, and he nodded

• “Yeah that’s it alright.” A little bit of the enthusiasm he had shown at the sight of his delivery reappeared before you. It didn’t take long after that before he remembered that you were both still standing outside the towering stature of his house, and quickly invited you inside so you could help him move the package where he wanted it

• “So! Is Terrance sick or something? I could have sworn it was just yesterday that he was where you are now.  Or a few days. Maybe a few weeks. Alright it’s been a while, but can you blame me. Do you know who I’m talking about? Long horns, red splotches, and a weird amount of hands. He always had the funniest jokes to tell though— “

• The first impression of him you got was weird. For the ruler of hell at least. But as time went on, and you kept delivering packages to his house with each passing month, he just struck you as lonely. His house, while big, was always empty. You would go as far as to say that you were the only steady interaction he had. Even if you were technically required to visit him

• Eventually, you quit your job. It had been a long time coming, and you were looking forward to a different take on life away from packing peanuts and scotch tape. Yet, for some reason, you didn’t stop showing up at Lucifers place. And he didn’t stop letting you in

• “You know—“ The devil approached you one hot afternoon in his work room. It was actually quite cold outside, but the fire breathing duck in his hands had heated up the room something fierce upon demonstration. “If you ever need someplace to stay, my daughter has a passion project that she wont stop talking about. It’s pretty sparse in souls, and I’m sure she’d let you stay there as long as you went along with her plan that she has!”

• You tilted your head with a small hum that day, choosing not to mention the far away look in Lucifers eyes as he talked about his daughter

• “Sounds better than where I’m currently living.” You shrugged, handing him a spare bolt off of the floor when it rolled off his work desk. “Where is the place?”

• So you’d shown up on the Hazbin Hotel’s doorstep, then still known as the Happy Hotel, with a bag or two in had and asking for a room

• You hadn’t told Charlie that Lucifer had mentioned it to you. You didn’t want her to feel like you were only there because he dad had named dropped it, but you guessed that she had her suspicions. You didn’t seem very taken with her title as princess of hell after all

• You were there nearly as long as Angel Dust; the likes of which showed up in the room next to yours a week after the move

• That means you were present for the embarrassing news interview, and in turn, the introduction of Alastor as a new patron

• He had been annoyed by you at first. Unlike Charlie’s slight nervousness at his appearance, or Vaggie’s outright aggression, you practically ignored his spectacular entrance, save for a few quick comments

• That had bugged Alastor. You’d hardly reacted when he’d shown just a sliver of his powers. Your lackluster once over as he pulled the darling Nifty from a fireplace had given him nothing to go on. Nothing!

• “Now what’s your role here, my friend!” The Radio Demon practically sang to you on that same afternoon. He waltzed over to your position in a corner, and his smile thinned slightly as you barely spared a glance at him. You found yourself much more enthralled with the sight of Husk fending off Angel’s advances over at the bar

• “I’m a tenant.” You mumbled, looking right through him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed down at you in an unreadable emotion that day

• He took to annoying you for the remainder of his stay following his debut. With every day, he increased his pestering, and you continued to remain the same

• Neither of you made a breakthrough with the other for quite a while. Months passed, and he found you looking as disinterested as ever with his display of powers. At this point he was sure you were purposely giving him nothing just to see his smile crack at the edges. And he was getting frustrated, for a lack of better words

• It wasn’t until you’d wandered into his recording studio by mistake that something changed

• Alastor felt a disturbance in the air the moment you stepped foot in his little alcove. Territorial demons such as himself could always tell when somebody was trespassing on their land, especially when having as much power as he did, and you were no exception to this rule

• He materialized behind you almost instantly. His limbs were already beginning to crack and stretch in size, a glowing smile casting wild shadows all throughout the room as he searched for what was sure to be your cowering form as you dropped whatever item you were attempting to steal

• Instead, he found you kneeling to the side of his polished desk, blinking up at him as your hands sat frozen in the motion of flipping through a record basket. His record basket

• “And what, pray tell—” Alastor’s distorted voice sounded like an screeching echo. He wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the hotel could hear it from downstairs “—are you doing here my dear?”

• You didn’t say anything for a moment. He watched as your eyes flickered to this symbols floating around him, then back down to his face

• “I was looking for some good music. Sorry to intrude” You eventually pull out of your weird staring match with him. Dusting the seat of your pants off, you rise to walk past him and towards the door

• Alastor’s mouth opens to say something, but stops when you pause in the doorframe

• “Nice antlers by the way.” You shrug. He doesn’t have to look up to know your talking about the honey structures protruding from his forehead. They really only come out when he starts to take on his true demonic form, and never before has he had someone compliment them

• Before he can get a better read on you, you’re gone

• Turns out, you weren’t exactly unimpressed with him. Just wary in your own way. It was a slight hit to the overlords ego that he hadn’t been able to pick up on that so quick, but he’d never admit it. Instead he took to your new attitude with rigorous mischief 

• Music and murder had been the thing to bridge the gap between the two of you. When Alastor discovered you were particularly fascinated by his time period, he laughed heartily

• “Why my dear, you should have told me you had such good taste!” He wrapped a tight arm around your shoulders. “What is it you wish to know about the darling 1920’s?”

• “Did you really feed your victims to alligators?”

• “Hah! That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” He said while flicking your nose. You just hummed with a scrunch of your eyebrows and wriggled out of his grip. Alastor laughed at that

• You wouldn’t classify the two of you as friends necessarily, but Husk did mention one day that the fact he didn’t kill you that day in his recording studio stood for something

• “He’s murdered demons for less.” The grumpy cat told you. You chose not to respond

• Everything came to a head the day Lucifer showed up at the request of his daughter

• He didn’t notice you right away, instead doing a little dance with Razzle and Dazzle as the rest of the hotel watched on confused. Angel tossed you a look and you just shrugged

• Lucifer eventually spotted you standing by the scrappy welcome table. With the same exuberance that you'd seen time and time again before, he hugged you almost immediately

• “Good to see you again too, Luce. Heard you were coming over.” You exhaled after he set you down. You chose to ignore Alastor as he stepped out of his shadows and stood behind you ominously. You could almost feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of your head

• “Ah so this is his majesty! You’re a bit shorter than I expected.” Alastor’s voice was a bit more grating than you recalled. His grip on his cane tightened as you raised your eyebrow at him

• “Uh, excuse me. Exactly who are you? Lucifer gave the overlord a once over, looking very bored as he did so

• An eye twitch

• “Why the Radio Demon of course! Manager to this very fine establishment, and a—!” 

• “Nope. Never heard of you. Sorry.” Lucifer cut Alastor off and smiled tensely from next to you, not sounding sorry at all

• It became apparent very quickly that the two of them didn’t mix. If a competitive musical number didn’t convince you of that, the way the both of them wouldn’t let go of your arms sure did. By the end point of Lucifer’s visit, you were sure a bruise or two had formed on your forearms

• “You know you should really come visit me more!” Lucifer adjusted his hat as he spoke, sending you a sharp toothed smile as he prepared to step out the door. “I’m sure you get tired of this hotel sometimes. Or at least the people—“

• “I’m sure you’ll find they are perfectly happy with their arrangement!” Alastor didn’t let Lucifer finish his thought. His shadows were getting restless at this point, stretching in the three of yours direction as if attempting to push Lucifer out. At this point Charlie and Vaggie had stopped paying attention to the weird power play between the two of them, instead talking about their upcoming trip to heaven together, so you were all alone. Save for two of your friends that were acting really weird

• "You know maybe the two of you shouldn't hang out."

• "Agreed."

[moongothic]

Yeah no I can't stop thinking about this. I need to get this extremely cursed theory out of my system. Let's just go.

Could Rayleigh and Shakky be Crocodile's parents?

So the thing is, I was gonna post about this like ages ago, but then I canned my original post. Because I realized that based on the timeline we have, for this theory to be true Shakky would've had to become pregnant at age 17 and given birth at 18 while Rayleigh was like 31. And needless to say, that's gross as hell. So yeah, I cancelled that original theory post because of that.

But then I realized that between Oda repeatedly treating 17 year olds as """not children""" in OP (see: Dragon literally saying Luffy isn't a child anymore at age 17), and other shit like how 16 year old Pudding was almost married to 21 year old Sanji

Like shit's creepy as hell. But alas, because Oda is Oda, it would actually fit in-universe. Like the theory is still fucking viable. Because fucking Oda, man.

And god fucking damnit the thought just keeps on haunting me. Because I am unironically curious whether or not this could be a genuine, viable theory. So yeah. I just need to get this theory out of my system. Let's just get it done with, alright

So what kind of started off this theory in my mind was remembering Buggy's off-hand comment/joke about Rayleigh being Luffy's uncle

Because that got me also thinking about some other, vaguely related theories, and like... Like we all know these theories, right;

that Luffy's mom is a Kuja (people speculate that's why Kuma sent him to Amazon Lily, that Luffy had a connection to the island)

that Crocodile has Kuja heritage (the Missing Empress is pretty much debunked but it is a popular, related and vaguely relevant theory too)

that Crocodile is Luffy's other dad

And I could not help but to wonder if these theories could somehow be combined together into one Giga Theory

And the funny thing is, we know that Rayleigh did marry a Kuja Empress, Shakky. Which actually does mean that the four theories could be mashed together. Like sure the other three theories could already be combo'd together but Buggy's theory would somehow really complement the other theories and bring them all together???

Of course, if Crocodad is real and Rayleigh turned out to be Crocodile's dad, then Buggy's comment wouldn't be fully accurate, since Rayleigh would be Luffy's other grandfather, not uncle. But it'd still be funny as hell in its own right, since the two would turn out to be blood-relatives. Like how the fuck was Buggy onto something there. Not to mention, as of now, two of Buggy's predictions in the Summit War Saga have already turned true (him becoming a Shichibukai and then a Yonkou, the only one that hasn't come true yet is him becoming Pirate King)

But indeed, if Shakky and Rayleigh were Crocodile's parents, then that would mean Crocodile would have Kuja heritage, it would mean Luffy's birthing parent was (technically) a Kuja, Buggy's joke would be kind of true and, yeah, Crocodad Real. That would be insane. We got a full fucken bingo over here

But then we have all these details to considder;

We know Shakky quit being the Kuja Empress and a pirate 42 years ago, when she moved to Sabaody and opened her bar. We don't know why she did this move, especially because at this point Rayleigh should've still been adventuring with Roger's crew

At that point, Crocodile would've been 4 years old

Based on Baby Croc's art, he isn't wearing Kuja clothes. If he had been raised in Amazon Lily then surely he would've been wearing their clothes*, but if he moved to Sabaody with Shakky and was raised there, then his get-up would fit in just fine

The trivia books claim Crocodile is a Grand Line native; regardless of if he was raised in Amazon Lily or Sabaody, both would add up

*(To be fair, if Oda had drawn Baby Croc in Kuja Clothes, that would've been a MASSIVE SPOILER to drop in an SBS. And Film Z did go out of its way to NOT include Baby Croc in the credits when all the other Baby Shichibukai were, so like, Baby Croc's art isn't Absolute Lore or anything, it is subject to change)

Indeed, if Shakky had decided to move out of Amazon Lily and went to Sabaody specifically knowing that if Roger's crew ever passed by then that would make sense, since it would mean she'd have an increased chance at seeing her husband again (if only briefly). It would also make sense if she moved out with her child and/or because she had a child, since it'd make it easier for her to ensure her child and the father could maybe get to meet and spend time together, as staying on Amazon Lily would've meant Rayleigh wouldn't have been able to enter the town even if he DID swam all the way there. (Also her options would've been to either leave her child behind or bring the child with her, and if she didn't want the kid to grow up in Amazon Lily for whatever reason then this would've been the perfect opportunity to remove that child from the island)

If Crocodile grew up in Sabaody then it could explain things like Baby Croc's serious expression and how he has a gun; there are dangerous people in Sabaody, the kid would've had to learn to defend himself from a young age (and I'm sure Shakky would've been happy to teach her child how to fight, since the Kuja are fierce warriors and being powerful is beautiful etc). It would also explain Crocodile's racism towards Jinbei, since anti-Fishman racism is a common issue in Sabaody. He would also have grown up in a place where slavery and other shit is a commonly known and seen thing, as well as the crimes of the Tenryuubito. This would explain a lot about his general attitude towards the World Government

Also, if both of Crocodile's parents were pirates, and his dad also happened to literally be on the ship of the Pirate King... Yeah it would explain his career choises. And why he had gone to Roger's execution too, since that would've been not just the Greatest Pirate In The World, but also his father's captain

And if these two were Croc's parents, it could explain his title; he could be "Sir" Crocodile because he is the son of an empress, or it could be a fucked up abbreviation from Silvers (note: it doesn't work like that in Japanese, since "sir" is like "saa" while "silvers" is "shirubaasu", but that's why I said "fucked up abbreviation")

Either way, his fullname would then be Sir Silvers Crocodile

A fitting name for a silver medalist, is it not

I just. I hate how much sense this would make

Also I'll throw this out there; don't want to put too much money on the whole "they look similar" thing due to Oda's same face syndrome, but there is an argument to be made about Oda's fem!Croc looking quite similar to Shakky, while if you squint your eyes, a younger Rayleigh could kinda look a bit like regular Croc (they even have the same haircut, awe), though it's hard to judge since we have so little art of young Rayleigh and old Rayleigh is, well, visibly much older than Crocodile

Really the only things I can think of that COULD debunk the idea are that Crocodile is MUCH TALLER than either Rayleigh or Shakky, and his bloodtype doesn't match (the two are A/AB while Croc is O). And my normal instinct would be like "if they were related then surely these details would add up because Oda is insane", but also. They are minor details. IDK man

Also, Crocodile aside. Shakky and Rayleigh have known each other for a long ass time, and Rayleigh's tendency to sleep around, it is entirely possible the two could have had a child at some point. And that really would explain why Shakky quit being an Empress. Like it doesn't even have to be Crocodile, it would just make sense if they had a kid and if that kid became the reason to Shakky quitting. The question is, who could that child then be?? And what happened to them??

[theflowerofthecommonwealth]

Power Armor Punch Part Forty Two

(Dang we are just chewing through these)

Masterlist

Teshteal: *quickly pulls himself back behind the dumpster before realizing how stupid it is to hide again if she already knows he’s there. He carefully sticks his tail out just to see if she’ll shoot… cause that’s a great idea (it is not)*

Lucille: What is he doing?

Nick: Being the dumbest cop on the force, that’s what.

Jasmine: (Just kinda blinks in confusion to what the hell he’s thinking. She’d yell out “ceasefire” which is her command word to stand down to show she isn’t hostile, but she can’t speak that loudly. Instead she looks at Nick while taking off her mask and pulling off her hood, wiping off whatever tears remained on her face)

Nick: *loudly* You can stand down, Teshteal. No one’s going to shoot you.

Teshteal: *peeks a little above the dumpster, horns, hat and eyes showing. He blinks, his cat like pupils narrowed into slits in fear. His tail stays stiff and still as he looks directly at Jas* You sure, Detective?

Nick: Very. Consider it a ceasefire.

Teshteal: *eyes immediately dilate hearing the command word. His tail goes lax and he walks out from behind the dumpster over to Nick in a very controlled but absentminded gait.*

Lucille: What the…

Teshteal: *stops just a few feet short of Nick. Face is blank, almost emotionless*

Nick: I must have said something related to their “programming”. Kind of like a recall code for synths. *quickly looks at Jas to see if she’s affected the same way*

Jasmine: (Freezes for a few seconds, but because it’s Nick who said it in a normal manner and not in a commanding tone she blinks it away. She looks at Teshteal, then at Nick and Lucille) “Try saying “dismissed”, It should relax him back to normal….”

Nick: Alright. *to Teshteal as if he’s addressing the precinct before the war* Dismissed.

Teshteal: *eyes blink and the pupils narrow a little. Forgetting where he is briefly, doing a salute to Nick since he’s higher rank* Yes sir, Detective- *sees Jas* Oh. Right. *pupils narrow a little. His tail flicks nervously. Sheepishly* Hello again! *raises his hand in a stiff wave*

Jasmine: (Tilts her head, a little sorrow on her face while she examine the man) “Hi…” (Gently, like she’s talking to a kid younger than her in order not to scare him) “Nick is your assigned commander? Is this because of prewar times or did you decide that on your own when you met him again?” (The programming words that they were both given only work if they are said by their assigned commanders or handlers. If they don’t have one/the commander dies they automatically click to whomever has the most authority. By code they must be under someone at all times, no exceptions)

Teshteal: Huh- oh. The command words. *tilts his head in thought, still shaking of the affect of commands* Yeah it’s because I used to be an officer while Nick was a Detective. And still is.

Nick: Well, I don’t like having that kind of control over people…

Lucille: Yeah. It’s a bit terrifying.

Teshteal: Well it’s a good thing I can simply choose not to listen-

Nick: I doubt you have much choice at all, actually. I saw how quickly you lost your freewill just saying ONE of them. *looks at Jasmine with newfound worry* And that makes me even more concerned about taking you to the vault. They could use you against us.

Teshteal: Both of us… probably. Maybe.

Jasmine: (Clicks her tongue. Nick was technically her commander so all of the command words would work, but in a different sense) “We are not even sure that they are still there, I killed the ones who were frozen in there, remember?” (Gently to Teshteal again) “Does the red whistle work on you too?” (The whistle was used whenever they went out of control. They used association to get them to fall on their knees in surrender, as when someone would blow into it, a high pitch screech would emit from it, filling the victim with horrible memories of punishments that they got if they didn’t obey. No matter who blew into it, the effects were still the same)

Teshteal: *immediately stiffens up at the sheer mention of it* Unfortunately, yes. When I broke out, I don’t know how exactly I managed to fight through it. All I could think of was getting out and taking whoever was trapped in there with me. *smiles again, this time at her* But I’m so happy to see you got out in the end and found Detective Valentine!

Nick: Speaking of… you keep referring to me as if I’m the old Nick- hate to break it to ya, but that Nick died 200 years ago.

Teshteal: Oh I know. I figured that. But you still have the same name and title and even the same well meaning attitude. *wags his tail happily*

Jasmine: (Just silently nods, staring off to the side and wondering if she should point out that he reacted wrongly to the command word Ceasefire. Maybe he’s not like her and won’t take it too hard, but Call Off would be the word to make him walk back to his commander. Ceasefire would only mean to stand down but hold your position. Her nose wrinkles a little bit in disgust. They were trained with whistles and words like a bunch of attack dogs)

Nick: One thing that’s confusing me is how commands like that are used in the military and the police force. Normally the word I used would call for the officer to remain in place unless commanded otherwise… why did you approach?

Lucille: Didn’t you say he was the worst officer on the force…?

Nick: I did, didn’t I…? *looks at Teshteal*

Teshteal: *mesmerized by his own tail. He’s going crosseyed at it*

Jasmine: (Shrugs her shoulders, happy to see that he at least seems to not be taking it to heart that he messed up, unlike she would herself if she happens to mess up. She does wonder if she should mention the other command words at some point or another, if she can recall them all… They aren’t attached to pleasant memories…)

Teshteal: *looks up, tongue now sticking out for some reason* Hm?

Lucille: Nick was wondering why you responded wrongly to the word he used on you.

Teshteal: Ah- I get Call Off and Ceasefire confused all the time… I used to intimately know which was which but I DID leave before they were through with me so I guess some programming never stuck. *shrugs almost nonchalantly before going stiff and kind of shrinking* That’s… that’s not a problem, is it…?

Nick: What? Why would it be? I’m not going to use it on you- you’re not some sort of dog.

Lucille: Though it does make me wonder if they spliced your genes with a dog’s considering your sense of smell.

Jasmine: (Suddenly perks up when a thought hits her, looking directly at Teshteal with slight fear in her eyes and her hands down at her sides) “That…. one command does not still work on you, does it?” (Doesn’t even want to say it out loud just in the small chance Teshteal sees her as a handler. It’s a very seldom used command, but it can cause great damage and destruction if used incorrectly)

Teshteal: Possibly. You’d have to say it to find out… what’s the word again? Lubricate? Litigate? *tapping his chin* Ah! WATERGATE! *tapping his tail against the sidewalk giddily*

Nick: …I doubt that’s the word.

Lucille: That… That was a political scandal during the 1950s. I don’t think they’d tie a command to that.

Jasmine: (Deadpanning darkly, pulling on her hood) “I am not saying that word, and do not say it either if you can recall it.” (Remembers the effect it has on her, and what kind of damage it could do if either of them get activated by it. It’s terrifying to think that they can’t even test to see if it still works, not without the looming threat that it might and things could get out of control…)

Lucille: I can’t remember but didn’t they have to liqui-

Teshteal: *ears perk up and he flicks his tail hard against the back of her helmet to stop her. Quite seriously* That was it. That’s the command. Please don’t ever say it. Not unless you want all of Diamond City to burn to the ground.

Nick: *mouths, not even saying it* Liquid… *stops short just to prevent a major incident. Aloud* Oh. I see why.

Lucille: Any other words we need to be wary of?

Teshteal: *shrugs*

Jasmine: (Sighs and looks at her feet, shuddering as she pulls her hood over her head tightly and hugs herself. If someone just randomly said it on the streets, she doubts there would be much of an effect other than a delay or maybe a twitch from the mere mention of it. But still, it’s a scary thought… Liquidate, get sent into a blind rage mode and kill everything within the chosen area, no matter if it’s hostile or not)

Nick: *pulls Jas back in for an embrace from the side* Don’t worry… unless I need to bring you back to reality, I won’t use them on you. Ever.

Teshteal: And me?

Nick: As much as I’ll probably need some way to stop you from making a mess of things in your own way, the same goes for you, too.

Jasmine: (Immediately clings onto him and buries her face in his coat, grateful that her Dad has no interest in making her a personal killer. He only wants to best for her, nothing less. And that he’s a good man who won’t be making anyone else a killer either)

Teshteal: *smiles… but there’s a hint of sadness behind it.* You found someone that cares for you. You managed to bond with him so strongly…

Lucille: You never found anyone like that?

Teshteal: *starts to chuckle then it becomes a rather manic laugh. It’s almost frightening* Raiders were the only ones who found me “amusing” but when I didn’t fit with their life style, they tried to lock me up! So I put them out of their misery! *grins almost wildly* I refuse to be imprisoned again! I’d rather die!

Nick: *gripping Jas’s shoulder a little tighter seeing that unhinged look on his face. His hand hovers over the gun*

Lucille: *hand grips her ripper*

Teshteal: *notices the response and and shrinks* I doubt I’m welcome with you three, then. I figured as much. *starts backing away, assuming he’s unwanted*

Jasmine: (Didn’t flinch when he started laughing. She’s not scared of him, she almost feels like there’s a connection of sorts because of where they both came from. A protective connection) (Quietly) “They found me too and tried to keep me for themselves, multiple times….” (Frowns while she turns around and studies him) “Where will you go now?”

Teshteal: I don’t know. It doesn’t matter, I guess. After all these years, why would it? *with a strained desperate smile* All I’ve ever been is tolerated all my life! A joke-!

Nick: Detective Chapel- didn’t he-

Teshteal: He’s dead! All that’s left of him is his car and an old box of paperwork!

Lucille: *winces and looks away* Please don’t say that…

Teshteal: And even if he were alive, we were only colleagues at best-! *crying despite his manic smile*

Jasmine: (Huffs and crosses her arms with that kitten fire she has) “Well, you were in the Vault with me, we both went through the same thing. You said you heard me pleas? You wanted to save me? Now I feel like Safeguarding you instead of killing you, we are like siblings because of the Vault. So what will you do now? It does not sit right to me that you are just wandering around on your own.”

Teshteal: *brief moment of relief when he hears the command* Safeguard… me? *takes a moment to think about it then his ears twitch with realization* I would love to come with but… *looks to Lucille and Nick* The woman in the blue power armor doesn’t seem to like me. And Detective Valentine… *looks at the scowling Synth* Just doesn’t seem to trust me. *scoffs at himself* Though that hasn’t changed really… *crouches and wraps his tail around himself* There’s no room for me really. *sniffs and whipes his eyes* No room for the jester at the dinner table… even after he’s rubbed shoulders with the king at the ball, dressed in gold and velvet and jumping through the rings…

Jasmine: (Looks to the ground for a moment, then down at Teshteal again, then at Nick with wide eyes. She’s relating to Teshteal way too much, and she knows exactly what the people in the Vault instilled into him. Just thinking about her own experience is making her heart twist and her knees grow weak) “Daddy, we cannot just leave him on his own…” (Gently tugs on his coat while she says this. Even if they could find somewhere for him to stay for awhile, that’ll be enough. Might be difficult considering his mental state, but it gotta be doable somehow)

Nick: I know, kitten, but he’s very openly unstable. Probably not safe to have around…

Lucille: *still put off by that laugh* Seriously, who laughs like a maniac while talking about being a raider and then killing them? And grins while claiming their police partner died in the apocalypse?

Teshteal: *nervously chuckles but it sounds like a sob* Unstable? I guess that’s right- *looks up at the sky in slight confusion* Why am I still here torturing myself with this fantasy?

Lucille: Why are you still here?

Teshteal: *catches what she means by that* Heh. You’re right. I should leave. *gets up and scampers away like some form of frightened creature*

Jasmine: (Watches him leave sadly, hoping to run into him again soon. If she doesn’t, then she will seek him out on her own. For now she turns to Nick) “What now?”

Nick: We continue to the glowing sea… *starts walking in that direction, keeping an eye out for enemies*

Lucille: Yeah… time to deal with Radscorpions and deathclaws… and feral ghouls… *shudders*

Jasmine: (Clicks on her tactical mask and adjusts her hood. As much as she wants to keep completely sharp, there is still the possibility of lingering feelings from only a few hours ago. And even though she’s not mad at him for it, the aching bruise isn’t a welcoming feeling or reminder. She shyly reaches out for Nicks hand, hesitating before reaching it)

Nick: *head perks up at the touch and he looks down, smiling at her. He holds her hand and squeezes it* It’s okay, doll…

Lucille: *keeping her own senses about her as she’s taken point*

Jasmine: (Hums a sweet happy note, squeezing his hand back as she gazes back to the road ahead)

Lucille: *comes across where her and Teshteal just were*

Nick: What the hell happened here?

Lucille: Teshteal… now you see why I gripped my ripper so tightly as he laughed like a raving lunatic- *notices a drawing, obviously painted in blood of a cartoonish devil in a fedora smiling with a toothy grin* Wait. This is dry. Did he paint this while he was fighting?

Nick: Great… serial killer artist. Just like Pickman.

Jasmine: (Just slowly looks around at each mutilated dead body with a blank expression, noting the patterns that indicate on how the Raiders were killed. Seems as if her and Teshteal were both taught to kill in a similar fashion, maybe because they are both smaller than most, if not all, opponents)

Nick: *regretfully* I should cover your eyes… you don’t need to be seeing this mess…

Jasmine: (Without turning up to him) “I am not a child, you do not have to shield me from this.” (Continues to examine the gory mess, still holding Nicks hand)

Lucille: *scoffs* If you were the age you are now before the war and tried to get a license, they’d tell you to come back when you’re older, sweetie.

Nick: She’s right. You’re not even old enough to vote by the old world’s laws. Hell, by Diamond City’s either.

Jasmine: (Rolls her eyes at the two adults and puts her free hand on her hip, continuing to observe. Even with the mask and hood on, she’s clearly radiating spicy kitten attitude) “That does not mean anything.”

Nick: Kiddo, literally today I had to put you down for a nap in my office in Goodneighbor, after carrying you like an infant. *smirks* You even cried on the way there.

Lucille: *at the mental image of Jas needing a nap and her dad carrying her* Aww… *walking on ahead, tired of looking at the gore*

Jasmine: (Frowns under her mask, partly embarrassed at her earlier childish behavior. But it was sweet that Nick was willing to hold her) “I was upset and still injured from the earlier fight.”

Nick: *following Lucille* And needed me and a special little friend to make you feel better. *smiles warmly*

Lucille: Oh? Who’s that?

Nick: Can’t say. Sworn to secrecy. *makes an x where his coolant reservoir is*

Jasmine: (Still vaguely annoyed that they both consider her to be a child, but she squeezes Nicks hand while her eyes sparkle a little)

Nick: *warm smile down at her as he walks*

Lucille: *soon finds herself at the edge of the glowing sea* Radiation sickness here we come…

Nick: Rad-X and Radaway would be your best bet for keeping that at bay. *already slipping a mentats tin full of Rad-X into her pocket for her own protection*

Jasmine: (Takes in a deep breath as she stares into the dead abyss that is her hometown. She squeezes Nicks hand tighter when she feels a heaviness settle into her heart and a lump form in her throat. After a few moments, she holds up her Pipboy map to display the area she used to live to Nick, once they get close she’ll lead them to the exact spot)

Lucille: *comes accross a small dilapidated house with a small dumpster next to it. She freezes when she hears movement from the dumpster*

Nick: Radroaches, perhaps?

Lucille: *shrugs and slowly approaches the dumpster. She lifts the lid and a familiar colorful glowing tail- much brighter now that it’s getting dark- stands straight up while whatever’s inside hisses like an angry cat at her* What the-?! YOU?!

Teshteal: *backed himself against the rear wall is the dumpster, clinging to a worn stuffed toy of a possum* What are you doing here?! *kicks against the pile of blankets that serve as his bed as he tries to get away.* Find your own dumpster! *hisses again*

Jasmine: (Barely even blinks at him under her mask, but inside she is surprised to see him all the way out here in the Glowing Sea, and living in a dumpster. Its sad to see that he claims a crummy dumpster to be his home, on some days she wants to jump back in one too)

Nick: Why…? Why are you living in a dumpster? *more surprised at that than him being all the way out here already- Jas runs really fast. Safe to say the once cop turned feral gremlin man can, too* Is your self esteem that low?

Lucille: It does look kind of cozy in there, though. But I will say, it’s pretty easy to raid when you’re away.

Teshteal: *sits up, back against the wall closest to the house, still clinging to his possum stuffed animal* I don’t want to live in the dumpster-

Nick: The blankets, cookbook, stuffed animal and pillow don’t do ya any favors.

Teshteal: I know that-! *sadly looking down* The house behind me was my home before the war… my family lived there for generations including me. All of that’s gone now- my parents. My siblings. Gone. *holds the possum toy tight against his chest*

Lucille: *quietly, remembering her first days of futile attempt to stay in her old home in Sanctuary, eventually moving to better places like Vault 88 and the weather center near her old home* So why did you stay…?

Teshteal: I didn’t want to leave them… *looking over his shoulder*

Jasmine: (Sadly blinks under her mask as she looks at Teshteal, her hand gripping Nicks tighter as she once again relates to him on a deeper level)

Lucille: You could try to fix up the house-

Teshteal: And disturb their resting place…? I would rather not. *hunches over, tail wiggling idly then going limp as well* I brought enough shame to them before the war, they don’t need that in death…

Nick: How can you say that? You had a decent paying job… on top of that, didn’t you used to live in an apartment?

Teshteal: One- “Worst officer on the force.” Two- this is my childhood home. I still visited it often well into my career.

Nick: And your antics somehow got back to your family?

Teshteal: My abuela had her ways. *sad, almost guilty, but fond smile at the memory of his grandmother*

Jasmine: (Stares off blankly into the mass landscape of destroyed buildings, but she sure that Teshteal can understand why she isn’t reacting much. They aren’t suppose to unless they are toying with someone, otherwise it’s just blank face for everything)

Teshteal: *about to lower the lid of the dumpster* A-anyway… I’ve bothered you enough-

Jasmine: (Takes off her mask to look at Teshteal with a genuine sorrow filled face, then back up at Nick with those big doe-eyes of hers) (Softly) “Daddy, he is just out here all alone….”

Nick: I know but it seems kind of suspicious that he’s so candid despite being from the vault. Wouldn’t that be one of the tactics they’d have you use to pull one over on a target or something?

Teshteal: What?! You think I’m-! *realizes he’s right- that IS one of the things they tried to train him on. He just did so poorly that it never stuck* I’m not trying to- this isn’t some sort of trick. *tucks himself in the corner where the lid’s closed, holding his possum and his tail around his body protectively* No one’s commanded me to. And you don’t have any reason to take me in. Just leave.

Lucille: Okay. *turns around and starts walking off*

Nick: *hasn’t moved quite yet. Still debating what the right call here is* Lucille, hold on a sec. I need a moment to think.

Lucille: I’ll be over here. Observing this chameleon Deathclaw from a safe distance, then.

Jasmine: (Can only blink at everyone and the Deathclaw, dropping her free hand down to her side. In the end she has no idea what to do as her judgment is clouded right now due to being close to home, but she knows that the final result shouldn’t be to leave Teshteal here all alone)

Lucille: *very curiously watching the deathclaw. She just thinks their neat

Teshteal: *can’t stand the silence for more than two seconds from the others. Feels like he’s going to get hit with something hard if he doesn’t say anything* What are you still doing here? I’ll be fine. I have been for the past century and a half.

Nick: Then why did you show yourself earlier?

Teshteal: I heard the voice of a former colleague and simply wanted to reconnect for a moment. That’s all. *keeps looking at the wall* I wanted a little familiarity after being alone all these years. Now, I realize I never deserved even that small comfort. *shrugs, matter-of-factly* I suppose I’ll go back to being alone in my self made isolation chamber.

Nick: *getting annoyed* That. That right there is why I think this is some act. You’re acting so down on yourself that it makes people want to sympathize with you. It’s a classic manipulation tactic. Used to nearly work on Detective Chapel- nearly. It won’t on me. what are you REALLY playing at, Linus?!

Teshteal: *winces and whimpers hearing his old name* Nothing! I really am this pathetic! I just can’t stop talking or something bad will happen to me! *finally looks directly up at the synth, eyes narrow with fear* It’s compulsory, Nick! I can’t stop explaining myself! I can’t stop! I can’t stop! *starts to cry, shoving his hat over his head* I can’t stop or I’ll get hurt! Please, go away-

Jasmine: (Pulls on Nicks coat to get him to stop, shaking her head while her eyes well up with tears) (Signing) “He cannot stop, just like I cannot stop doing things without fear… They broke us and put us back together in horrible, miserable ways.” (Gestures to her bandages peeking out from under her sleeves that cover her self harm wounds that she did because she feels worthless and stressed, then at her throat near her vocal cords that just don’t work at random moments) (Signing) “They are still engraved into our heads.”

Nick: *taken aback- blinking, eyes shifting as he tries to come up with something to say* I-

Teshteal: *winces, realizing that he’s crying, the memories of his time in the vault resurfacing. He freezes in place, still as a statue and goes completely quiet. Mouths repetitively- he doesn’t remember sign language* Please help me, Dio…

Jasmine: (Trying really hard not to cry, but is actively failing at keeping back the tears from both the state of her home and the memories coming back. She lets go of Nicks hand and calmly walks right up to Teshteal, tilting her head at him while removing her hood and blinking slowly with her childlike eyes)

Nick: *watches and keeps his hand right above his gun on his belt… just in case.*

Teshteal: *doesn’t look up from his corner in the dumpster. He knows she’s there. He knows if he doesn’t shut up, all it’ll take is one command and he’s dead. He’s cornered. He knows he could take Nick and Lucille in a fight. But Jas… she was the perfect soldier. No one came back if they fought her. What some called the reaper. He changes what he mouths silently to himself, now mostly as a breath with no lip movement. Fully expecting to die. He’s said it before so many times in the vault* I’ll be with you soon, Dio… I’ll be with you, soon…

Jasmine: (Quietly and hoarsely) “I try so hard to keep them away and out of my head… It hurts so much when I do. I am suppose to alter my personality to fit and please everyone else’s, put on a masquerade until I get what I want from them. Never can I get attached- I do not deserve love and to be cared for.” (Gently reaches out and takes his hand in hers, giving a reassuring squeeze) “I did not ask for this, nobody would ever would. It is just my sad, messed up reality…” (Looks down at herself grimly) “And maybe I do deserve it now, but at the end of the day, I just wanted to go home.” (Raises her head to stare off into the green glowing barren Wasteland)

Teshteal: *frightened twitch at the sudden physical contact. He timidly and slowly looks up because he doesn’t know if it’s safe. Very, very quietly* I just want to go home, too… *shuts his eyes tightly in case just saying that was a mistake- that this is all just part of the process- baiting him with comfort then the final blow. His mind’s racing with so many memories of that specific form of torture*

Nick: *hand falls from his gun to his side. Seeing this little idiot of a man that used to be so quick to try the stupidest of ideas so terrified of the smallest of his own behaviors is starting to pull at the old detective… despite wanting to protect Jas*

Jasmine: (Turns and slowly blinks at him, tears still falling down her face while she gives another gentle squeeze) “I do not want to hurt you unprovoked… promise. Any hostility I had is purely implemented from them, not truly me. I do not think anyone here wants to hurt you.” (Glances back at Nick, her thumb stroking Teshteals hand)

Teshteal: *very hushed* I know this trick. I know what you’re doing. Why don’t you just kill me? Don’t lead me into believing I have a friend.

Jasmine: (Quietly, losing more of her voice) “Why would I do that? What would I even gain from this? From tricking and torturing you? I am breaking my programming to talk with you…. As myself. I am just as scared and messed up as you.” (Takes in a deep breath, feeling the heavy strain and horrible words this interaction is causing her. She wants to pull back and run away, but Rosie being the sweetie and stubborn girl that she is won’t allow her. It’s a painful, exhausting war in her own head)

Teshteal: You already know. They’re telling you to kill me- the voices. To take another life. You may not want to do it… but they do. *looks down at his stuffed possum and his cookbook, then at his little hovel of a dumpster, finally a bit of clarity hitting him* If those voices won out, nothing would stop you from finding this place. My home isn’t safe anymore.

Nick: Not that it was safe to begin with.

Teshteal: *at Nick* Raiders are very few and far between out here- you know that. Deathclaws usually stay away from me. Even that one your friend’s watching gives my house a wide berth. *at Jas* I would rather die knowing my death is coming than it be sudden and in my sleep.

Nick: *looks unsure* I’m still not sure how much we can trust you…

Teshteal: *sighs* You don’t have much of a choice, I don’t think. *glances at Jas* She looks like she’s about to break down…

Jasmine: (Can’t hold herself together anymore, and somebody pointing it out is the cherry on top because she’s suppose to keep it hidden. Still holding Teshteals hand tightly, she suddenly slumps forwards with a suppressed sob, catching herself on the dumpster with her free arm as her knees hit the ground. She bangs her head against the metal repeatedly, mouthing and whispering, “Get out of my head” and “Leave me alone” while doing so)

Nick: *nearly bolts towards her* Rosie-?

Teshteal: *eyes widen at the sudden break. He grips her hand and squeezes it while crawling toward the open lid. Soon he very carefully climbs out of his hovel, never letting go of her hand* I wonder if this will help… it used to for me as a child. *takes her other hand and crosses their arms over each other, humming a sweet but soothing tune he once heard his mother hum*

Jasmine: (Surprisingly doesn’t squirm or scream to get away from Teshteal, just kinda lowers her head and goes completely limp while she cries and mutters pleas and repeats the horrible words she heard over and over again from those terrible excuses of humans. She did however, bang her head hard enough against the metal that’s she’s now bleeding, and has maybe given herself a concussion)

Teshteal: *keeps humming that tune and very carefully and lightly presses his hat covered forehead against hers*

Jasmine: (Still not struggling against him, but still pleading and crying with people who aren’t even here, just a figment in her imagination that they put to torture her. Especially for when she tries to break free from how they made her) (Desperately through tears) “Daddy… help me… They are here for us, help me please Dad… Please do not let them take us again… He hurt me…” (Ends up leaning fully against Teshteal while she sobs, probably would hug him if she have the coordination to move her arms) “Do not let him touch me, it hurt, it hurt so much… why, why, why….?”

Teshteal: *almost winces being reminded of one of the guards- likely the same one, but he takes a deep breath to steady his thoughts. He presses his forehead against hers just a little more, increasing the volume of his voice to help her drown out the voices*

Nick: *kind of dumb struck. He never thought he’d see the day she’d be comfortable being held by someone other than him* Hm… *shakes his head just to briefly get over what he’s witnessing so he can kneel next to the two. Softly* Rosie, try to hum along to what he is. It might help center you. *gently rubs Jas’s back*

Jasmine: (As lovely and sweet as this is for her to be held by Teshteal- once she hears Nick and feels his comforting hand on her back, she’s clumsily reaching for him while crying out like a small child. She can’t open her eyes to help guide her as there is blood seeping down from her forehead, but it wouldn’t be much help because she’s seeing double anyways)

Teshteal: *opens his eyes and guides her arms to her dad* It’s okay if you need comfort from him if it helps you with the voices… you’re very fortunate to have someone like him.

Nick: *embraces his daughter with a nod at Teshteal’s words* Yeah. It’s okay, doll… just breathe. Like we did at The Third Rail. Think of lying in the sun… the playground… all of that… *rubs her back*

Jasmine: (Clutches onto Nick tightly the moment he embraces her and she snuggles close, getting wrapped in the sound of his inner working, the certain firmness his hugs have, and the cigarette scent of his coat. All familiar senses and associated with the safety of Dad, and she’s breathing easier already)

Lucille: *walks up to the group and sees Jas clinging to Nick* Ah… this is happening again. *looks at Teshteal. Accusingly* What did you do?

Teshteal: *cowers and goes silent before looking to her guiltily* Show weakness…

Nick: No. You just had a breakdown. You needed someone to pull you out of it and it was Jas… *rocks his daughter from side to side* I’m proud of her… for holding out as long as she did just to help you.

Teshteal: *still cowering under the accusing gaze of Lucille* Can you take off your helmet…?

Lucille: In the middle of the glowing sea?

Teshteal: Just for a moment. I like to know who I’m talking with.

Lucille: *considers this for a moment*

Jasmine: (Cringes at Lucille’s comment of this happening again, as it never is suppose to in the first place. It always slows them down, puts them at risk every damn time she does it. It’s burdensome and tiresome for everyone who is involved, it’s a wonder they don’t just tell her to suck it up already. She whimpers out a string of apologies under her tears and promptly hides her face in Nicks coat while insults to herself spew from her own mouth)

@lucilleandherrobots

[big-sapple]

Chapter 4: An Old Friend

“Aren’t you… going to attack me?”

“Probably not.”

Zagreus lowers his sword. Across the wispy greens of this particular chamber of Elysium is a severe looking man in unusual clothing. He sits on the base of one of the decorative planters nearest the exit, legs spread leisurely and leaning over the hilt of a downturned ax. The man considers Zagreus with only passing interest.

“Didn’t my father ask you to stop me?”

“Yeah. Didn’t mention why, though.”

“I’m trying to escape.” Zagreus gestures vaguely, “You know, like, ‘there is no escape’? It’s sort of the premise of this place.”

The man furrows his brows, “Aren’t you a god?”

“I mean. Technically. I suppose.”

“And you need your old man’s permission to leave the house?” His gruff face breaks into a smile that looks very close to laughter. It nearly shatters his intimidating affect.

Is he messing with me?

“Well, I’m not asking for it.” He replies a bit defensively, “Look, if you’re not going to try and stop me, I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” The man grunts as he lifts himself heavily from his seat, using his ax for leverage, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I was actually hoping to ask you for a favor.”

“A favor?” Zagreus asks dubiously. What could this man possibly want from him? “Look, I don’t exactly have a lot of pull with my father-”

“No, it’s nothing like that.” He waves a hand dismissively as he uses the other one to lean his ax against the planter, “I’ve got a daughter. And she’s made up her mind to escape, too.”

“My father doesn’t exactly look favorably on mortals who try to escape.” Zagreus warns, “Haven’t you ever heard of Sisiphus or Orpheus? They’re still paying their dues for defying my father.”

“Ha! You haven’t met my daughter.” Zagreus starts a bit at the volume and irreverence of the man’s laughter. “The thing is, there’s a war going on up top. And my daughter would really like to get back to it as quick as she can.”

I guess it’s true that mortals love their wars, then. “So, you want me to help her escape?”

“The two of you are going the same way anyways, right? As I understand it, you’ve had to go through a hell of a lot just to get this far. If you run into her on your way, why don’t you join her? I bet you’ll have an easier time of it together.”

Zagreus has a brief internal struggle between inviting more of his father’s ire, and wanting to piss him off out of spite.

The spite wins, and he shrugs, “Sure, why not.”

“I appreciate it.” The man smiles warmly, “She left not too long ago. Her name is Byleth. She favors a sword too, but she can throw a punch when she needs to. She’s a bit… I think the word you lot use down here is ‘stoic’.”

Zagreus might have used the word on the man himself not two minutes ago, if not for the jarring shift in his demeanor.

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin Assists the Jedi Council While On Medical Leave

AU brainstormed primarily by @atagotiak, @gelpenss, and myself.

Basically, a fix-it based in Anakin getting a peek into the daily life on the Council early, and accidentally Figuring Some Shit Out along the way, mostly because Palps Fucks Up.

So, Anakin gets injured in a way that limits him to Coruscant for a few weeks. He can still walk and talk, but he can't fight. The specific injury doesn't matter, just this:

Anakin runs errands on behalf of the council and sits in on meetings to take minutes as a "you're on medical leave but we need all hands on deck, congrats you get to be the secretary until we can send you on stabbing missions again" thing.

Also, there just aren't a whole lot of people with Anakin's clearance level. They had to send out Stass Allie to handle the mission that was originally next on Anakin's roster, and Anakin's the most convenient person to substitute into her position.

He's not super happy about this but he can more or less understand the point of it. Given that he gets antsy about needing to fight almost immediately, he can acknowledge the worth of having something useful to do, if only as the person who's writing down who says what and making sure everyone has the right file on hand.

(Besides, Obi-Wan jokes in a way that Anakin thinks might be encouraging, this is good practice if Anakin ever wants to be on the High Council himself!)

(This is a very helpful conversation.)

BASICALLY, Anakin is resigned to this but agrees because "Usually we have Master Allie handle this but we need her running that mission that was originally set for the 501st, so you get to fill in for her until you can switch back. Think of it as training for eventual mastery or admin or--listen, we're just really stretched thin."

Here's the key thing, though: Anakin isn't supposed to leave the Temple, for medical reasons, so Palpatine doesn't know Anakin is sitting in on Council meetings. They haven't met up since Anakin's last surgery, and because [muffled hand-wave reason] he didn't find out another way, like Anakin comming him or the Council giving him the heads-up about the change in attendance.

It's fine. He's just taking notes and doing preparatory research, he has the clearance, the Chancellor likes him anyway. Hell, they'd have had someone's Padawan doing this, before the war increased the necessary clearance levels. They'll toss in a quick message in the brief they send to Palps that he never reads anyway, and that's really all they need to do. Skywalker's getting some rounded experience and this way the medics won't be freaking out about him stressing his heart after getting electrocuted by trying to spar too early.

Palpatine doesn't talk directly to the Council, he just sends a recording the first time Anakin is there. It's a bit weird, but nothing goes wrong. Anakin's off-screen from whatever device they use to send a response, since he's not technically a member, just assisting for a bit on the part of Master Allie's duties that he's actually allowed to touch (and not the bits that are getting added to Mace, Plo, and Shaak's stuff).

The first four or so meetings are like that. Anakin starts having a bit of sympathy for the Council as he sees how many things they want to do that are hampered by the need for Senatorial approval, things that he would also want to do and didn't think required this much red tape.

About a week in, still mostly recordings with Anakin just sitting on the side playing paralegal, the wheel of fortune turns a few pegs.

Palpatine hands over a an order on the range of injury that a soldier should be treated for, "to ensure that republic resources aren't being wasted on clones that, while expensive, would actually be cheaper to replace than repair."

Oh, he dresses it up in prettier language than that. Anakin doesn't process it as such first.

The Chancellor manages to couch his phrasing in "prioritizing resources for taxpaying republic citizens and employees of the GAR," which... well.

The natborn commissioned officers pay taxes. The Jedi are employees. The clones are neither, because they're slaves.

Probably he frames it as the employees thing, very much the kinda language that sounds halfway ok unless you’re fluent in political bullshit.

And Anakin is really confused at first about why the council is upset by the order because, okay, he would PREFER to be able to use medical supplies on refugees when possible, but he understands prioritizing the soldiers?

He just looks up, totally lost, when someone groans and goes, "That's the third time this year, is he trying to get us all killed?"

And it vibes as such a genuine, aggrieved, sad reaction that Anakin is completely blindsided because it's not the sarcastic, petty resentment he kind of expected? It's just... desperate depression.

And someone gently has to explain that this is the third time they've had resources restricted to only GAR employees and that it's a polite way of saying "prioritize natborn officers, stop wasting resources on clones, we can replace them easier."

Or maybe he doesn't ask, because he's just there to take notes, not argue, and he can see the masters drawing up a response that amounts to "We would like to remind you that our soldiers do not fall into that classification, and to limit their access to our medical supplies is liable to cause a loss of life that we find unreasonably high. Please see the annotations attached to adjust wording so that the clones may receive the same level of care."

Anakin's internally just like "Yeah, that's phrased nice and addresses the main problem, Palpatine will obviously agree and change it!"

And then he comes in the next day and the response comes in and it's just dripping condescension about considering the clones actual people.

"This is why we can't use the bacta tanks on clones anymore, just the patches. We could use them at first, we had a few of the CCs get through fatal injuries with them, but they cut that off and said we could only use the tanks on Jedi and non-clone officers a few months ago. The Banking Clans keep tightening their belts on the army, and the Chancellor insists we put citizens first, and the clones aren't citizens. We've been arguing back as much as we can, but he keeps going on about the economy and we can't... we just can't, Skywalker. We're trying to save as many of our men as we can, but..."

Something like "Allocation of resources reiterated, the Kaminoans have assured the senate that the Jedi are far from exhausting the resources ordered."

And Anakin's like. He can't blame the council for lying about Palpatine's past or future actions. He just saw Palpatine's actions. Those actions were to order people under his control to throw away lives he saw as replaceable commodities.

These are his friends' lives.

His soldiers are being thrown away by a man in a tower that he trusted.

And then that man has the gall to suggest it's the council's fault.

Palpatine is good at what he does, especially in public, he dresses it up in flowery language and everything, but Anakin's just like "Those are my FRIENDS and also this is??? How slavers talked about their property on Tatooine???? FRIENDPATINE, WHAT THE FUCK."

Anakin can be passive aggressive sometimes as well as outright aggressive. So if he brings up the guidelines and why they make him upset in general terms, and Palpatine says something about how he’s sad the council doesn’t care about the clones...

Anakin, internally, having just watched the council scramble to save as many clones as possible within the guidelines that Palps handed down: Uh-huh.

(Anakin is just the gay horror teeth gif from queer eye.)

Just. “Yeah, funny you say that, Palpatine! Because as I remember, you told the council not to waste more resources than necessary while Mace Windu was arguing to expand the treatment range!”

Palps doesn't even have time to salvage the situation or attack Anakin because Anakin just bulldoze rants for fifteen minutes and then storms out.

Anakin... maybe does a little treason and gets a copy of the orders so he can ask Padme "Hey, can you explain the politics of this?" and doesn't tell her who wrote it so she isn't biased (he tells her that this is why he's not sharing the author's/speaker's name), and just lets Padme pick apart all the 'this is a nice way of saying they don't view the clones as people' details.

Alternately, someone on the Council sees Anakin dithering and manages to get him to admit that he's not great at political language and wants to ask someone to help him understand the full implications. The person--Mace? let's go with Mace--is aware that Anakin is on good terms with Senator Amidala, if not necessarily aware of the depth of said relationship. Mace points out that he's probably going to be seeing her soon just because he usually does and, as a Senator, she can get easy access to these sessions since they're not about specific missions, just allocation of resources, etc. It's not an optimal solution, but she's got a bit more free time than anyone else Anakin knows with the clearance levels, like Order members that are actively involved in the war effort.

Anakin dithers and panics and Mace, trying to be helpful, tells him that plenty of Jedi have made friends among the Senate over the years, didn't you know Qui-Gon Jinn was a personal friend of Former Chancellor Valorum?

At any rate, Anakin goes to Padme and asks her to explain it to him, because she knows how to phrase things so he gets it.

Anakin has to have her pause and he goes outside and destroys some things halfway through.

(Anakin maybe thinks back to the times Padmé or Obi-Wan were really obviously frustrated and when he asked, they said stuff like “I can’t stand Palpatine rn, sorry Anakin I know he’s important to you and you don’t want to talk about politics, let’s just talk about something else.”)

(Obi-Wan: I don’t trust Palpatine Anakin: you just don’t like politicians in general Obi-Wan: yes that is also true)

(Obi-Wan does like Bail and Padme but he does also talk a bit about how politicians generally aren’t to be trusted.)

[starshipsofstarlord]

💕 reader turns into a baby and obsessed with Bucky. Awww 🥺

Infant Issues

bucky barnes x reader / masterlist

warnings; fluff, morgan definitely being tony’s kid, biting, swearing, spoilers for IW and Endgame, mention of the blip, childish behaviour from adults, terrible humour (I really am sorry), spoiler for WV, mention of age gap, kinda a crossover, an absolute mess 😂

“Morgan?” Bucky frowned, as the girl tried to speed past him. It was not wise for anyone to allow the mischievous child run around the compound alone, she always got up to nothing but trouble, and there was such a glazing in her brown eyes.

She didn’t spare him a glance, instead, she bolted, causing the super soldier to sigh. He would have went after her if there weren’t already footsteps recurring from the path that she had just came from; it was his father. It so happened that there was a bundle of joy in his arms, crying like the sudden crack of dawn.

“What were you going to do, wait another five years to tell everyone about this one, Stark?” Bucky asked with a chuckle, though the cries from the infant muted at the sound of his voice. The child wiggled in Tony’s grasp, trying her utmost to reach out for the vibranium armed hero.

“She’s not my daughter, if she was, I think me and you would be having conversations.” Tony’s words spurred a frown to combust out onto Barnes’ face, and the billionaire sighed, shifting the baby so that the baby was in Bucky’s arms.

The child cooed up at him, her eyes were a baby blue, sure to avert possibly into a different colour once she grew elder. “Look, I didn’t ask if I could hold her, she’s cute, but why do you-“

“Morgan did it.” Tony willingly blamed his own daughter. With her various experimentations, she was definitely taking after him. He’d be sure to keep this one quiet from Pepper, otherwise he was almost certain that he’d be banned from bringing Morgan on expeditions to the compound.

“I though y/n was supposed to be watching her.” Stated the enhanced soldier, cocking his head at the information that he recalled. He promptly remembered you abandoning him half way through training the newbie recruits, because Happy was dropping Morgan off, and you had offered watch over her, despite the associate being there.

“She was, and now you’re going to have to watch over her.” Tony pointed specifically to the child in his arms, and that was when realisation hit Bucky. He gulped, breathing through his nose to calm himself, as all the pieces clicked perfectly together.

This was not just a child - it was you. As he gazed down at you, he could finally see the pouted expression that would fixate upon your face when you paid attention to him when you were drunk, there was a glazing over your eyes as you raised your small and innocent hands, scraping down the stubble of his chin, as you curled further into his arms.

“I am going to kill you.” He steadily spoke, huffing as Sam went to walk past, but stopped himself when he saw the bundle of joy that was content in the brooding soldier’s arms. 

“What the hell! Did you and y/n have a baby or something without telling anyone?” Oh, how he wished those were the circumstances, and if the pair of you were to ever have a child together, then he would be impartial to the idea of doing so.

"This is not my child, it's y/n, thanks to Stark over there." He bounced you in his arms, he even felt a small dribble of spit seep through his shirt, but he didn't mind, not as his icy glare was intently prized upon the philanthropist.

"Hey, it was my daughter's fault, not mine!" Tony excused himself from the blame, holding his palm against his chest, as he received as such. Sam ogled at him for a second, before returning his attention back into Bucky, and little you.

He came forwards, reaching his hand towards you, keening as you went to grasp his. As you did so, a smile broke out upon the man’s face, until it contorted into a sharp frown, the noise of a yelp escaping from his lips. “That little bitch bit me.”

“Language.” Steve rounded the corner, his golden brows raising when he saw the infant contently resting in his best friend’s arms. “Did you and y/n have a baby without telling us?”

“That’s what I said!” Sam beckoned to the blonde, as he averted a strong gaze to you and your normal sized partner. "Until she bit me, it reminds me of that time that I tried to steal her fries."

"I don't see why your complaining." Bucky rolled his eyes, bracing you up straighter so that your forehead was pressed lightly against his shoulder. "I'm the one whose partner is an actual child."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Sam rolled his eyes in reference to how you were beforehand, before Steve cut in, directing his leading tone towards the men that were stood idly by.

"What actually happened?" Tony found his enquiry to be an opportunity to avert the fault from himself; how lucky indeed was it that Steve asked such a thing.

"Technically it's your fault capsicle. Morgan found your prototype of your unsuccessful time machine. As you can see, she turned into a baby, much like Lang. And if you want to push the blame off of yourself, blame these two for their asses disappearing."

"Hey, if I wanted to disappear, I wouldn't have made such a dramatic exit. I'd have just left for my sister's." Crossing his arms, Sam shook his head at the man that was not wearing his iron suit. He was unable to take any responsibility, unless it was for his genius brain wave of creating the true transportation for the time heist.

"Well I'm going to keep that noted for any future repercussions." Oh, how Wilson regretting mentioning that now.

"You left it out, within your daughter's reach." Bucky quirked his brow, as he prepared to head towards the storage of the private laboratory that was shared between the two science bros.

"Technically, that was the big green guy." Bucky vouched not to listen to Stark, instead, he continued to walk, leaving the three other men in his rear view, though for the most part, he could still hear them bickering.

"Maybe we should turn you into a baby, I doubt much would change."

"Maybe we should turn you into a baby, I doubt much would change." Tony mimicked Steve, thus only proving his point. He was certainly a man that enjoyed pressing people's buttons, it was a shining attribute of the once playboy, and god, did it annoy the hell out of Barnes.

As he entered the laboratory, he found the lab to be in a state of havoc. "Hey, it wasn't me this time." Scott laughed, as he used an extinguisher against the frayed machine, that was blubbering sparks from its ruined exterior.

"Smash!" A small green child, wearing glasses that were far too big for him, ran across the room, followed shortly by a child with long blonde hair wrapped up in a red cape, as though it were some kind of makeshift diaper.

"Explain." Bucky bluntly stated, clenching his jaw, as he cooed lightly at your cries that pierced the air. He bounced you in his arms, not quite certain of what he was supposed to do.

In his time, there wasn't exactly an education system to teach the men going to war how to parent, or even care for a child. A part of him panicked; it was you, he hated seeing you cry in general, but now he couldn't attempt to find out the cause for your falling tears.

"Aw is that y/n?" The man half dressed in his ant man suit asked, a bright smile on his face, as he reached out to hold you. To say Bucky was hesitant to pass you to him was an understatement. "I have a daughter, I've looked after a baby before."

"From jail?" The white wolf asked, as he heard a crash exhibit from the connecting room, obviously being the fault of the two most destructive avengers, or at least, their little versions. Being aged down was definitely certification for trouble, everyone knew that.

"Okay I wasn't in there for that long." Scott reassured him, he picked up a bottle of milk from the table, handing it to the metal armed man, whom had never fed a child before. He found himself, cautiously, keeping a watchful eye, passing you over to the former criminal, intently watching every movement that the man made.

Lange simply fed you. "Always thought you and y/n would have a cute baby, imagine its- oh yeah, well after all that stuff that happened with vision and SWORD, we thought it best to destroy any technology that was recovered from the old base. This part survived, and well, I went into its- okay, you don't want to hear the science, but basically Thor insisted he could break it with his hammer, albeit whilst I was inside of it, and it sent energy around the room that turned them into pubescent children."

"I can see that it did nothing to you. And I thought Morgan did it.”

"I was so relieved, lucky I- wait, was that an insult?" Bucky remained primitively silent, and that answered Scott's question. The hero sighed, as you finished nursing, and your arms reached for Bucky, to whom he passed you to. “And I lied...”

He literally blamed a five year old for the screw up of grown men. Tony was going to thrive off this information, whence he knew that his daughter was in fact not the culprit.

"What do we do now?" He was eager to find a cure for this betrothed science. Those whom were responsible for your decrease in age, well, one was running around the compound, and the other, well, he was even younger than Morgan currently.

"You could wait twenty years, I mean you two already have quite a big age gap, and please don't kill me. I'm not sure that Cap would approve, I am a vital source to the team!"

"I'm not going to kill you tic tac. Or at least not at least until we fix these three."

"Phew." Scott wiped his brow, blowing air from his mouth. "Wait thre- oh yeah, the little guy carrying the hammer that is bigger than himself, and the

"Okay, we need someone smarter." Bucky sighed heavily, as he hugged you in thought. "You tried hitting it again with the hammer?"

"Oh my god, I could be worthy!" Gasped Scott, running off to the next room, only to come back limping, a pained expression on his face. "Little Asguardian bastard hit me!"

Bucky contained his smirk, and instead passed you to Lang, venturing into the other part of the lab, finding that Bruce was asleep, a blob of snot hanging from his nose, he could see the hammer in the middle of the room, almost as though it were waiting for him to attempt grabbing the handle, and Thor was-

The minuscule god jumped from one of the shelves, wrapping his arms around the front of Bucky’s neck, as he put all his weight on the super soldier’s back. In all practicality, Thor was strangling him, and Bucky tapped his arm, trying to convince him to let go.

“I know who Noobmaster69 is.” Thor quirked his head, lessening his hold, as he promptly awaited his now older friend to continue. “It’s, its- his name is Wade Wilson.”

“Wilson!” No, gosh no. Bucky stood completely, making sure to keep Thor in the vicinity, he needed him to be so so that he could reverse the affects on the son of Odin.

“Not Sam. Wade.” He had never met the man before, but god did he seem like a dick. When the pair of you were getting a taxi, the driver Dopinder just could not shut up about his friend, who liked to wear red, and had a kink for unicorns.

Wade certainly sounded like a weird one, but right now, his pass time was getting Thor to pick up that hammer. “Where can I find this Wade?” It practically left his mouth as a hiss, if the imagery and proven death supposed otherwise, he’d possibly think it was Loki instead.

“I will tell you, if you pick up that hammer, and hit it against that old machine. Got it buddy?”

“It’s name is Stormbreaker!” Bellowed the norseman, who tried to slide off his back, but Bucky kept a hold of his legs, refraining him from going anywhere. “Get peter to do it, I don’t want to play that game anymore!”

“Uuh, hi Mr Barnes...” That voice, oh he knew it, and the majority of the time it irritated him, he was Tony's little pet. “And, baby avengers?”

“Don’t ask kid.” Peter nodded, as he went to reach for a spanner. “Can you pick the hammer up, are you worthy?”

“Am I worthy?” He wondered aloud, his eyes fixated on the hammer, as he stepped towards it, holding his hand out, and clasping his palm around the handle, it feeling weightless in his grip, as he picked it up without effort. “Oh my god (it’s Robert Downey Junior)!”

“Great, now take it out there, I’ll deal with these two. And don’t do anything yet.” He was certainly feeling like a sergeant, throwing all the orders to the others, Peter complied, carrying the hammer as though it were an empty duffel.

“Can I try?” Instantly, after Peter passing it to him, Scott had such hope, until the force of gravity hit, and it fell on his foot, causing a light scream to ripple through his throat. “Get it off, get it off!”

Peter did so, as Bucky kept Thor on his shoulders, and grabbed a hold of Bruce’s chubby little ankle, dragging him into the other room. “Shit he’s heavy.” He saw that you were sat in the grand spinny chair, making Bucky relived that you weren’t in Lang’s arms as he attempted to have a moment of worthiness.

“What’d you do, go all Winter soldier on his ass and knock him out?!” Half screamed the prodigy of Hank Pym.

“Of course not, I think Thor did it.”

“Oh yeah, blame the kid because I did the same.”

“Put your suit from Stark on kid, unless you want to become a fetus.” Bucky ignored Scott for the moment,

“I got Hope to send her outfit, it will stretch to accommodate you, but I also think it would hug your shape nicely.”

“That was fast.” Muttered Peter, and Bucky shook his head, eyeing the outfit with weird eyes.

“I’m crazy, but not crazy enough to wear that.” Sighing, he grasped it in his hands, walking to the other room to squeeze into it. He noticed you watching, and thus he turned the chair around so that you couldn’t see anything. Little did he realise until he came out, that you had spun it around again, and was giggling. “Don’t laugh at me, or you won’t be allowed to see it when you’re returned to normal.”

A pout settled on your small lips, and it appeared as though you were getting ready to cry again, but before you could do so, a distraction intervened. An uninvited, and confusing one.

“Stop. Can I just say, that is some cruel declaration for the both of you, you’re my fave ship, after me and Hugh Jackman of course, but he doesn’t even know that this version of me exists.” A newfound imposter called out, his arms raised in the air. Leather gloves crinkled as he twitched his fingers, his white eyes freaking Scott the fuck out. “May I join you on this journey? I read about you guys in comics. And can I just say, I want to see these hunks and that hottie all grown up.”

“You want to see me go Winter Soldier on someone Lang?” Bucky gritted his teeth, prepared to murder this man for ever posing such words about you into the open air. Him speaking obviously drew some attention to him though, but it was not his rage that was mentioned, instead, it was his attire- or well, Hope’s.

“Nice suit Buck Buck. Can you do a twirl for me, I wanna see if it competes with America’s ass. Damn, does that man have some buns on him.”

“I know right!” Scott eagerly agreed, earning a smack in the nuts, to which had made him close to crumbling.“You had to use the metal hand, didn’t you.” Whimpered the Ant to the false Wasp, clamping his hands over his goods as he half hunched over. “I thought you often forgot to use it coz your right handed.”

“You’re on my left.” Gross, he sounded like Sam.

“Who the hell are you?” Thor spoke, and it felt familiar on his tongue. It was as though he had asked an enemy the same thing before...

“I, am Noobmaster69.”

“Hi, I’m Peter. Oh, we’re using our made up names, I thought Sam said it was that guy from that tech place.” Peter scratched his head through the mask, providing a small verbal distraction, as Thor willingly set himself free, launching at the intruder, whilst snatching the hammer from a suited up Peter.

“Aaasrrrghh.” He screamed like a true deity of the vikings.

“Thor, no!” Lang screamed, knowing that he’d have to come up with another excuse. The cameras had been fused whence Thor had first struck the hammer in the room, and it abused the guy in the red suit as he went for his legs, attacking the friend of Dopinder.

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

hello 🧸 i really enjoy reading your alice in borderland writings and just wanted to say that your writing is ✨immaculate✨ hope you keep up the good work!also, i wanted to request something where the reader is this badass/genius at the beach and niragi and chishiya can’t help but be attracted to her and so they try to pursue her both. but even though she acts tough on the outside she does like them back and the rest is up to you if that’s alright~

Thank you so much! That just made my day. 😊 And of course, here you go! 

Two Peculiar Admirers | Shuntaro Chishiya, Suguru Niragi

PART 1 | PART 2

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya, Niragi (Aguni, Kuina, OC)

Summary: You are a new member of The Beach with a harsh attitude and a strong personality. Chishiya and Niragi can’t help but be a little bit lovestruck.

Warnings: a lot of swearing, blood, stalking, violence, threatening

Word Count: 3.5k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: I planned to fit this all into one part but it got a bit too long and I still have more to write. I’m so sorry I left it at a cliffhanger but I promise I’ll upload Part 2 before you know it!

Gifs Credit

It had all begun when Aguni had brought you back to The Beach.

You were a particularly strong woman, both on the inside and the outside. You didn’t hesitate in games to do what needed to be done to survive. And best of all, you were on your own. He thought you would be a perfect little guinea pig to add to the pile back at The Beach to help collect cards.

Aguni had found you at a heart’s game, a game of betrayal. He noticed you at registration, believing that you would be killed off within the first few minutes. But he got a great surprise to see that you gave up other player’s lives without hesitation. At least you knew how to survive in the Borderlands, no friends, no one to betray.

He followed you for a while after the game, trying to find the right moment to grab you and place the black bag over your head. You noticed him following you a few times, so you kept your guard up.

But eventually, he used his strength against you and knocked you out with a few hits to the head. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you black out.

He didn’t want to take any chances. After seeing your strength and skills conveyed at the hearts game, he didn’t want to risk becoming injured or even killed by you.

After being brought back, Aguni spoke highly of you in the meeting room, causing Hatter to move you to a higher number than most. You were annoyed if anything, you were doing completely fine by yourself. Why did these people have to drag you into their selfish and chaotic dynamic?

You were rather cold-hearted towards everyone, being upset about becoming a part of all this mess. You felt like a soldier in a meaningless war. You didn’t want to put all your energy into your games just to let one person leave this hell. Everyone seemed blinded by it, didn’t they realize they were believing empty promises?

*************

On one of your first nights at The Beach, you had been sitting at a booth nearby the pool by yourself. You enjoyed watching people acting like drunken idiots, it was entertaining to you. Sipping your drink and laughing at people getting pushed into the water had become one of your favourite pastimes, since there didn’t seem to be much else to do other than drink or dance.

This was when Niragi first approached you.

A sudden arm slung around your shoulders like a snake. You whipped your head around harshly, receiving a fright from the action. A young man with several silver piercings in his face had decided he had the audacity to make himself comfortable right next to you. Well, technically it felt like he was sitting right on top of you he was that close.

You furrowed your eyebrows roughly at him but didn’t move, just staring at him with a surprised look on your face.

“Hey sweetheart, you’re looking awfully lonely,” he began, leaning his face much closer to yours. “Why don’t you come with me? I’m sitting over there with a few of my friends. I would love it if you could join us.”

You could tell this guy had never been rejected before, his ego was so large it oozed off his words like a bad smell. You put a hand against his chest and pushed him away from you. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Look sorry… whatever your name is. You’re being real fucking annoying right now,” you said, being straight forward with him. Although you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t appreciate his confidence. But there was a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and this man seemed to be right in between the two.

He sat up and off you with a shocked look on his face. “Are you sure you want to be saying that to me?” he said in an annoyed tone. You watched as he cocked his pierced eyebrow upwards, being interested in how you would answer.

You gave a big sarcastic smile and giggled. “Yeah, you’re nothing special sweetheart. Thanks for ruining my peace and quiet.” You stood up out of your seat and his arm slid off your shoulder. He watched you in shock as you strutted away from the booth, making your way to the bar nearby. You didn’t want to argue with a man who just so obviously wanted to get into your pants. You weren’t going to give into anyone that easy.

Niragi let out a big breath and smirked as he checked you out from the booth. “Hopefully no one saw that.” He said to himself.

No girl had ever rejected him so harshly before. You didn’t know who he was? Did no one tell you?

Your harsh remark to his attempted flirting struck a chord within him. He felt his heartstrings pull tight in his chest. That attitude of yours really hit him.

I mean, who wouldn’t love to play a game of cat and mouse? Because the vibe you were giving off to Niragi gave him the idea that you would love to play a little chase game of emotions with him.

***********

Chishiya’s meeting with you would have been rather bizarre. He met you at a game because you were assigned to the same group as him for one night.

During the drive on the way there, you kept glancing your eyes over to the mysterious figure. He sat quietly in his seat, hood over his head and earbuds in his ears. He wore all white, reminding you of a ghost.

The game was a four of clubs. Pretty easy for someone like you, or so you thought.

It was held in an apartment block that reached twelve levels high. The aim of the game was to find the safe zone to disengage the bomb within the time limit and without being ‘tagged’ by the tagger.

During the first five minutes of the game, you tried your hardest to remain alone, but a young man who didn’t have any idea what he was doing followed you around from registration. He seemed to be a new player, so after a while you decided to tolerate him. He could be used as a shield from the tagger if worse came to worse.

As you made your way around the levels, checking every door and looking around every corner, you heard rapid gunshots every now and then. It made your heart drop every time you heard it just below you or just above you.

At some point you watched as you saw the tagger take aim at someone who was on a different level. You watched as the young man ducked down to avoid being killed, bullet holes shredding into the wall next to him in the process.

You frowned. Why did the tagger attack him so far away? Every victim has been on the same floor as him when he kills them.

Then it hit you: he was trying to protect the door that the young man was attempting to open. That must have been the safe space.

You and the new player that remained with you made your way down a few levels to the door that the tagger had been shooting to. There had to be something there, he wouldn’t aim from that far if he didn’t want that door opened.

As you arrived, the tagger and the young man gone, you were about to open the door before you heard a voice call from further down the balcony.

The mysterious figure from the car was there, strutting along the path like he owned the place. You kept your hand on the door handle and looked at him to see what he had to say.

“Are you sure you want to open that?” he gloated, smiling slightly and stopping just next to you. You looked him up and down. He had a shorter stature than you expected.

“I was planning on it,” you remarked, jiggling the door handle in your grasp. It was unlocked, unlike all the other doors you had tried. This must have been the safe zone.

The figure tucked his hands into the pockets of his white hoodie and raised his eyebrows while scanning the door up and down. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that the tagger didn’t just stand in front of it?” he said.

You thought for a second. He had a point, but you didn’t have time to think logically at that moment. The game phone in your pocket beeped and announced that there was only five minutes remaining.

“Look I’ll just open it slowly. But we must hurry because we won’t know how long I could take to disengage the bomb,” you said matter-of-factly.

The man nodded and stood behind you so he could see what was through the door when you opened it. You breathed out heavily and slowly turned the door handle to peep inside.

The room blossomed with light as soon as you opened the door. It seemed normal enough, except there was another door on the other side of the room that led to a lit-up area.

“That must be the safe zone,” you breathed out, relieved. “Must be,” the figure repeated.

A sudden deafening sound filled the air behind you and you both whipped your head around to see the new player that had followed you lying on the ground with several holes in his chest. You felt blood splatter onto your face from the impact, shifting your eyes upwards just to see the tagger at the end of the hallway, quickly storming their way down towards you and the man.

“Shit!” you screamed. “No time to waste!”

You pulled open the door completely, and before Chishiya could even think quick enough, you grabbed him by the back of his hoodie and tugged him inside harshly.

He stumbled from the sudden movement and ended up falling on top of you from the force, managing to kick the door shut with his foot in the process.

You groaned underneath him. “Sorry,” you muttered. “You weren’t moving so I didn’t have a choice.”

He chuckled above you and pushed his arms against the ground to stand himself up and off you. “No worries, I could never be mad at someone for saving my life.”

 *************

You thought that both of those encounters with the strange young men would be your last, but apparently not.

You began being put in the same games as Chishiya more often, eventually forming a bond with him and always teaming up together during games. He introduced you to his friend Kuina, who you became rather close as time went on.

Although you still preferred your time alone greatly, there was always a certain someone who would disturb your peace and quiet.

Niragi would take any opportunity to annoy you, whether it be in the hallways when you’re on your way to bed where he would back you up against a wall and try to make you feel threatened, or whether it be out at the pool when you were by yourself. People would stare at you both as he sat with you and tried to make it seem like to the public that you were together, which was quite embarrassing.

He would never leave you alone, and at some points you began to believe that he was stalking you. He managed to find you everywhere, so it wouldn’t be an outrageous claim.

Chishiya however you found a lot more likeable.

He was subtle, kind of making sly comments about his attraction to you every now and then. You appreciated him trying to hide it more rather than being too open about it like Niragi. It made you more interested in the intelligent and mysterious man.

Chishiya at times though would come across as rather overprotective. That was the only thing you had a problem with, because out of all people he would know that you can handle yourself simply fine.

Sometimes in games together, he would do everything in his power to make sure you stay away from potential death. At times he would drag you around like a ragdoll just so you stay beside him. It became quite annoying, but you dealt with it anyway. You did not want to offend or upset him.

**********

Niragi leant against the hallway wall just outside your bedroom door. He was waiting for you to get changed so he could take you down to the bar and have a few drinks with you. You did not know he was outside though, he kind of just saw you after you arrived back from your game and followed you.

As he fiddled with his rifle to kill time, he heard a small pitter-patter of feet just down the hall from him. He glanced upwards to see none other than Chishiya making his way up the carpet towards him.

Both exchanged confused looks, until Niragi’s mouth pulled up into a smirk and he ran his pierced tongue over his bottom lip slowly like a snake.

“What’s a blondy like you doing here?” he chuckled, pushing himself off the wall and slinging his rifle over his shoulder in its usual position.

Chishiya raised his eyebrows, conveying his usual confident expression on his face. “I could ask you the same thing,” he retorted, walking further towards Niragi.

Niragi chuckled deeply then spoke. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“Really? Giving them a fright before their execution. That’s quite low Niragi even for you.” Chishiya’s smile never left his face.

Niragi threw his head back and cackled. “No actually, quite the opposite really. I’m waiting to take her down to the pool.”

Chishiya widened his eyes in shock. “Her? Hm. I never took you as the romantic type,” he teased.

“I’m not. I’m more of the ‘follow you around until you pay attention to me’ type,” Niragi admitted. Chishiya let out a small laugh at his comment.

“Seems more like you.”

Chishiya walked further towards Niragi who remained close to your door. He watched in confusion as Chishiya reached his hand out towards the door handle to open it, but before he could, Niragi whipped his hand quickly over it to stop him.

“What are you doing?” Niragi said in a tense voice, so contrasting to the somewhat light-hearted one he had just a moment ago.

Chishiya pulled his hand back slowly and looked up into Niragi’s darkened eyes. “Going into this room? What else would I be doing?”

“But this is Y/N’s room,” Niragi argued, standing in front of the door so Chishiya couldn’t get inside.

Chishiya raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? So? I need to talk to her.”

Niragi leaned down closer to him with a frown painted on his face. “About what?”

Chishiya rolled his eyes. “None of your business you creep. Why are you standing in front of Y/N’s room like a guard dog anyway?”

“She’s the one I’m taking down to the bar.”

Chishiya’s heart dropped. There’s no way you’ve been with Niragi, you weren’t dumb enough to become involved with the psychotic militants.

“Wait no. She told me that she was going to spend some time with me and Kuina after the games.”

Silence filled the air between them. Neither of them knew what to say, but the rising tension between them became stronger each second.

“Does she know you’re here?” Chishiya asked out of the blue.

“Does she know you’re here?” Niragi fired back, avoiding his question.

Another awkward silence before Niragi spoke. “Look, you better not get involved with her more than you already have. She’s mine so you stay away from her,” he threatened Chishiya, walking towards him causing the shorter man to take a step back.

“Oh, you want me to stay away? You are standing outside her bedroom door with a rifle over your shoulder. Do you really think she’ll learn to like you?”

“At least she can trust me, you fucking manipulative snake.”

“She’d probably be terrified you’d put several bullets through her Niragi. Why don’t you think logically and leave her alone? It would save her the suffering of having to deal with you!”

“What? So, you can gaslight your way into her trust? At least I am straight forward Chishiya, you’d do nothing but lie and use her for your own personal gain like the fucking selfish brat you are!”

“No, at least I wouldn’t view her as nothing but a toy to play with. You know she doesn’t like you, so why the fuck do you keep trying?”

“Shut up!”

“No, I won’t! I am not going to let you weasel your way into her life and put her on display like some trophy to show off to everyone! Just leave her the fuck alone and stop following her around! It’s really fucking pathetic of you!”

Chishiya suddenly flew back into the wall behind him, creating a large bang that echoed down the halls. Niragi had kicked him square in the chest backwards. He let out a satisfied laugh.

“Look at you! You can’t even defend yourself! What makes you think that you could keep me away from Y/N?!”

Chishiya sat up from his position on the floor and let out a loud groan. His spine was screaming in pain, making him stumble before finally standing on his two feet.

Niragi didn’t even give him time to breath before he punched him across the jaw, making his head whip sideways and fall back against the wall. Niragi gripped one hand in his blonde hair roughly while another clutched the collar of his hoodie.

Chishiya yelped in pain, not being able to fight back. He didn’t bring any weapons to help himself, he did not expect to be in this situation when he left his room to come to yours.

Niragi leaned close to his face which was scrunched up in pain. “I dare you to try and keep me away. Because nothing comes between me and what I want, no matter what it is.” He spat harshly in his face, narrowly missing Chishiya’s eye.

He let loose of Chishiya’s white hair, causing him to fall to the carpeted ground. “I guess I’ll meet up with her another time, when there aren’t any rats around to trip on,” Niragi chuckled and turned to make his way down the hall towards the staircase at the end.

‘What wonderful timing Y/N would have if she came out just now,’ Chishiya thought to himself.

As if he had predicted the future, you busted out of your room harshly, almost tripping in the process. You locked eyes with Chishiya, who had blood pouring out his nose while seated against the wall opposite your door.

“Oh my god! Chishiya! The fuck happened to you?!” you exclaimed, rushing over and kneeling in front of him.  “I heard a loud bang outside and came out to see what it was. Was someone else here?”

Chishiya grabbed the hand that you offered to him to help him up. He groaned as you lifted him to a standing position, only for him to fall forwards onto you from sudden nausea that hit him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to keep him upright while he placed his chin on your collarbone.

“Just forget about it. I’m okay, just a little scratched up,” he tried to deflect your question. “I had a really rough game and I tripped over just then. Smacking my nose on the ground didn’t help much.” He was surprised with himself about how quick he covered up what happened. He felt quite embarrassed being beaten up by someone as dumb as Niragi, so he didn’t want to tell you.

You laughed a little bit, the happy sound warming Chishiya’s heart. “You’re such an idiot. How do you manage to survive all these games while being so clumsy?”

Chishiya smiled. The fact that you cared about him outweighed the throbbing pain of his developing bruise on his jaw. He brought a hand up to his nose and wiped along it, soaking up the small bit of blood in his sleeve.

“You still want to go see Kuina?” he asked you, pulling away from you and looking you in the eyes.

“Yeah of course!” you exclaimed excitedly. “I was thinking we go down to the pool for a while. We can sit in a corner somewhere and chat,” you suggested.

Chishiya nodded and held out his hand. “Shall we then?” he said teasingly.

You laughed and began walking while leaving him hanging. “Maybe one day I’ll hold your hand, but not today.”

Chishiya chuckled and jogged to catch up with you. As you walked side by side, he secretly hoped that Niragi wouldn’t be down at the pool, preparing to start trouble the moment he sees Chishiya with you.

Unfortunately, his luck wasn’t on his side that night.

[shadowmaat]

Cmdr. Fox Week Day 7: Brothers

I went through so many ideas for this one. Ugh. Hopefully I picked the right one. @loving-fox-hours

Brothers

Fox sighed, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as he entered his kitchen to find a figure in Mandalorian armor pointing a blaster at him.

"You're coming with me, clone!" snarled a familiar voice.

"Not before caf I'm not," Fox said, brushing past him to where the caf maker was already set up. He flipped the on switch and leaned against the counter, watching Boba.

"You don't get to decide anything, clone!" Boba snapped. "You're a fugitive from the Republic and I'm gonna collect your bounty! Then I'm gonna collect the bounties on all the other runaways, too!"

"That's quite a lot of runaways." Fox snagged a muffin off the nearby plate and took a bite. "You bringing them all in personally, big brother?"

Boba bristled. "I'm not your brother! I'm a Republic citizen with the papers to prove it! You're just- just stolen property!"

"Employee," Fox corrected, reaching back to grab the pot of caf as it finished brewing. "The Senate rebranded us as indentured servants after the war, so technically I'm a delinquent employee." He took a swig right from the pot, enjoying the burn as he swallowed.

"Whatever! It's the same thing!" Boba's helmet tilted and Fox could almost picture him rolling his eyes. “You’re also wanted for helping other sla- indentured servants- escape.” The sarcasm gushed from his self-correction. “Unless you have an excuse for that, too?”

So much attitude. Fox knew it was a rhetorical question, but answered it anyway. “The Underground was established during the war, as I’m sure you know,” he said. “I couldn’t help then because of plausible deniability, but I’m not as gullible as some of our sibs. I knew what was coming when Pally lost his head and yeah, I made sure to get as many of us out as I could.”

“Stop including me! I’m not a meat droid like the rest of you!”

That one hurt a little more, but again, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. Hells, Jango himself had been the first one to use it.

“I’m done talking,” Boba continued, shifting his stance. “Are you coming quietly or is this gonna be a fight?”

It was clear which outcome he’d prefer.

"I'm not coming at all," Fox said, placing the pot back on the burner. "But you're welcome to stay if you like."

Boba lunged. Fox caught his wrist, spun him around, and swept his legs out from under him. There was a crash of armor as he hit the floor. Fox casually stepped on his blaster, pinning it.

"You weren't the only one trained by Jango, kid," he said, sidestepping a swipe from a vibroknife and kicking Boba in the ribs as he attempted to stand.

Boba went down again, swearing loudly. Fox walked over to turn the water on in the sink.

"Well? Are you gonna sit and have breakfast or are you still throwing a tantrum?"

A drying saucepan deflected Boba's attempt to fire a grappling line at him. Fox snagged the sprayer attached to the sink and hosed him down, earning him another string of expletives.

"Tantrum it is, then," he said. He smacked the side of Boba's helmet with the saucepan and opened the cupboard to grab a couple of mugs. "Cream or sugar?"

He kicked back, catching Boba's shin, and added a heap of sugar in his own mug before adding caf to both. He stepped aside, taking an appreciative sip as Boba crawled his way up the drawers to clutch at the counter.

"Are you serious right now?" Boba demanded.

"My other vode would say I don't have a sense of humor," Fox said, adding a dollop of cream to his mug.

"I'm not your-" Boba paused, catching the creamer bottle Fox tossed. "Your vod or your brother or anything else! I'm a bounty hunter, just like my father." He turned, dumping half the bowl of sugar in his mug and pouring some of the caf into the sink to make more room for the cream.

Fox tried not to wince at the pale barely-caf concoction. Boba pulled his helmet off and pivoted to face him again.

The last time Fox had seen him he'd had that godsawful prison cut. Now his head was a mass of dark, wavy curls, quickly falling out of a bun on the back of his head. He had a few new scars, but the scowl was the same one he remembered. A little more honed, perhaps, now that he had to be pushing 18.

"Just because some longneck picked you out of a batch and handed you to Prime doesn't make you any better than the rest of us." He sipped his caf. "Doesn't make you any less, either."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand, clone." Boba gulped down half of his sugared cream with a splash of caf.

Fox snorted. "I've been called a lot worse than that by people a lot bigger than you, Bo'ika," he said. "And I am a clone. So are you."

He watched the rage rise in Boba's face only to fade again.

"Whatever. I'm still gonna bring you in." He reached over, eyes locked on Fox's as he grabbed a muffin off a plate and crammed half of it in his mouth.

"Sure you are." Fox wondered how thin he was under that armor. "Me and all the other vode, right?" He took another sip. "Not to give you a hint or anything, but not all of 'em go by he/him, you know."

"Like I care!" Boba rolled his eyes so hard Fox was surprised they didn't fall out of his head.

Shrugging, he pulled eggs, cheese, and bacon out of the conservator. "Want some omelettes to go with that muffin?"

"You can cook?"

"You can't?" He fired back.

Honestly, this encounter was going better than he'd expected when Cody had commed him to say he was sending Boba his way. The brat had gone for him first, of course, but had apparently had some kind of moral crisis upon finding Cody running a wildlife rehab center with his husband Stiv. It seemed Boba had a soft spot for animals.

"Silverware's in the drawer to your left," Fox said, carrying supplies over to the stove. "Set the table, please."

"You can't order me around!" Boba complained, but still opened the drawer to grab utensils.

Fox was dicing up peppers and sausage for the omelettes when he heard an imperious yowl behind him.

"What the crick is that?" Boba asked.

"Paperwork," Fox said, pouring the egg mixture into the pan. "She's already been fed, so don't fall for the starving cat act, vod."

"Paperwork. Really?"

There was a soft clank of armor and a trill of approval from Paperwork. When Fox glanced over, he saw Boba sat on the floor with the cat in his lap, scratching her behind the ears and murmuring endearments.

Smiling, he returned to his cooking. Boba hadn't corrected him on the use of vod this time. It might be a little step, but it was one he was glad to take.

[twilightpoison]

It’s been brought up to me that a lot of my content is Isekai based. However I didn’t want this to be a Ieskai HC post. Instead let me tell you all about a stupid thing I came up with as a kid that I’ve been meaning to make into a fic for so long.:

What if the characters you play actually can feel your presence and/or can hear your commentary when playing?

Fair warning I never play Hyrule Warriors and Twilight Princess so let me know if I got things wrong.

Head canons under cut!

General head canons (These are all platonic headcanons btw.):

- Let’s say that the simple reason that you are here was to help the chain. Think of it like you’re the groups companion on this journey. Who better then someone that knows about each hyrule?

- The people who dealt with a lot of magic recognize you at first. The others need a bit of a push to connect the dots but everyone gets there.

- The connection wasn’t as strong at times during their original adventures, so its not like they could always hear you or sense you.

Time:

- You saw him and it was clear he has another sibling now.

- Time knew you where telling the true, that you followed both of his adventures however he wasn’t going to be fully open to you.

- Guess who isn’t scared of Time? You.

- Literally at one point you’ve pointed at Time and with a straight face says “thats a child”.

- This is also how the chain found out that Time actually fought the moon technically.

- “You fought Majora on the moon while it was falling. That’s not the same thing.”

- You meet Malon and it was an awkward first meeting since how do you explain this in the first place.

- Yet the two of you got along amazingly.

- When you and time are alone you instantly ask Time if he knew how she got the cow in his house. He kinda just… stares at you? Like you just met his wife and thats what your asking about?!

- The answer was that he wasn’t sure how she did that but the cow isn’t in his old house anymore. Since different timelines and all.

- It’s honestly weird for him to have someone remember both of his adventures in confidence.

- All be a little awkward hearing someone go, “oh yeah! Time had to do something similar.”

- Early on Time did go over boundaries since he really doesn’t like to talk about his adventures to much.

- So instead you both agree to be as cryptic as possible or at least there is an attempt on your part. Since your the only other person that can confirm or deny his claims.

- And no. You also don’t know his true age. But your guess is the closest.

Twilight:

- Since he is one of the Link’s that is drenched in magic, he recognizes your aura instantly.

- Chaotic sibling energy.

- If he is giving Wild or any of the other Link’s a hard time you are by his side calling Twilight out. Unless if the person in question did something truly idiotic then you let him go off.

- Speaking of, you call this man out as much as you possibly can. Like hell if you’re going to let the others think he isn’t a gremlin.

- He did try to stop you by covering your mouth but you licked his hand. So…. guess what he isn’t trying again unless it’s necessary.

- Somethings are kept a secret though. Since he did live through it and even if it was stupid he still could of gotten really hurt.

- You both play good cop, bad cop to the younger Links all the time.

- Twi is surprisingly very open with you about his adventure, to finally talk to someone about it with out having it sound crazy is nice.

- He also has some questions about you and your life. Since before this adventure started you just disappeared.

- The two of you honestly get along like two best friends who haven’t seen each other in years but still can banter like its the good old days.

- Knowing only small amounts about what they all been through it’s nice to know that you’re looking after the others as well.

- That feeling makes him really push himself to protect the family he has here and luckily you are here can smack him upside the head before lecturing him.

Warriors:

- heeeeey… you know what happen the last time he met someone that was suppose to be watching over the hero’s spirit?

- Yeah, so….War’s isn’t so keen on trusting you like some of these Heroes.

- You seem nice and not obsessively crazy. If anything what makes him decide to give you a chance. It’s seeing you get along with the other Heroes post battle or around the campfire when you think no one is watching.

- The moment that he recognizes you. You were cursing out some monsters and calling Dink every name under the sun. Which he actually remembers hearing your panicked voice briefly when fighting Cia.

- Anyway, you guys are a sass duo and even a trio when you get Leg involved.

- You steal his scarf sometimes with Time and Wind’s help

- He finds you and Wind wrapped inside of it leaning on time and his heart just- clenches, he has more siblings now!

- Then Warriors realizes he has another sibling… another sibling that will prank him…

- You two can be found discussing tactical strategies. Mostly him teaching you though since depending on the person not many people will know how to lead an army. Yet he is a good teacher and you catch on pretty quickly.

- Same with Twi, Warrior’s needs someone to pull him back sometimes it seems. Who better then to remind him then the person that already saw his lowest moment when his ego got the better of him?

- Seriously speaking. He wouldn’t come to you to talk. If anything he will try to avoid you if he wasn’t his best. In his head he has a reputation to uphold. Which will lead to a heart to heart. No sass. No banter. Just you and him sitting down to remind him that he is human.

- He needs a hug. Please give him a hug.

Sky:

- Sky actually didn’t recognize you at first!

- Yes he felt your presence and hear your voice in his adventure, but that was a while ago at this point. Also he isn’t as connected to magic as the others are.

- He does slowly befriend you despite everything.

- It wasn’t until you referred to a certain demon lord as a ‘B*tch A** Clown’ and a flood gate of memories open up for him. Memories of you cursing out Ghirahim, calling the imprisoned an ‘avocado with feet’ and so on.

- Nothing really changes between you two honestly, he just accepts it.

- If anything he becomes more open to you about everything, setting clear boundaries on what he doesn’t want to bring up. He will tell everyone about the curse eventually, but just hasn’t found a good opportunity too. Things like that.

- You do have to argue with Sky that the curse wasn’t his fault since you were also there when it was put on him, also the fact that he didn’t asked to be cursed in the first place.

- Most of the time you two are together its to get away from the chaos that the group of nine heroes could bring.

- Walking or sitting in silence is how you two end up most of the time together. It may not look like you two are bonding. There are some days while Sky is wood carving you would work on your small hobby as well. Then there are days he plays the harp and your reading.

- Despite it all he really enjoys the peace you bring. There is a sense of comfort that you have.

- When you and Sun finally meet. The first thing you ask him is to be invited to the wedding and it may or may not been in front of her too…

Wild:

- The recognition was really slow for him like Sky. Since Wild just got off of his first adventure he didn’t actually notice you were gone.

- It was until he realized that he couldn’t hear your panicked voice or snarky remarks when fighting in his head. That he finally realized you where outside of his head. He was quick to connects the dots after that.

- There was a moment where he didn’t know how to react since he just figured that you were just from his imagination.

- He now has another adventuring buddy with Hyurle! Though luckily you do keep the both of them from harm. Mostly because if something happens to them you will get in trouble with like Twi and Leg and thats never fun.

- Though you have your moments. Shield surfing and paragliding are on top of that list and Wild is all up for teaching you the ropes.

- The topic of the history of hyrule gets brought up a lot with the two of you. Since his era has a lot of connections to the past era’s. He is all up for learning about what came from where. Soon theories start to fly about.

- When You, Him and Flora are finally all together. There is nothing stopping you all from bouncing off theories. With your outside knowledge mixing with what they know. Things start to fall into place.

- The answer to why the timeline is like this doesn’t get answer. But hey! At least you all are having fun!

- If you can’t cook he will teach you that too! If you can! Well buckle up your going to share your knowledge with him whether you want to or not.

- Once you know how or get used to cooking while camping, you help him out a lot and its these moments where you both talk the most.

- It’s comforting to him to know he wasn’t alone this whole time.

Legend:

- As soon as you two locked eyes he felt instant dread. Yes he knew. No he isn’t going to opening up to you.

- Playful Insults to bond? Yeah that’s literally how he talks to everyone so no special treatment.

- He keeps you at a distance but its not actually working.

- You talk about his adventures so casually like it happened a few days ago. You avoid Link’s Awakening though. If you got hurt with the plot twist then you could only imagine the pain Leg went through.

- “I’m still trying to process the fact you married a tree.” “Hey remember that one time with Yuga, you slammed face first into a wall so hard you knocked yourself out?” “God do you not wear pants because of the fish thing?”

- This relationship is literally: Only I can bully this one.

- He fears the moment you meet Ravio and Fable knowing full well you all will bond over teasing him.

- Overall though he knows you got his back no matter what, to the point he finds himself confining in you slowly.

- Guess who is also teaming up with Hyrule to get Legend to sleep. It you.

- Once you probably have forced him to sleep by getting wolfie to lay on him. It was the wolf or yourself. In the end it was both of you and he was trapped.

- A sign that he was becoming soft towards you was when he started sharing his items with you. He trusts that you know how to use them and if you don’t he is actually willing to show you.

- He regrets giving the bee badge to you.

Hyrule:

- Another person that is drenched in magic. It only took one look at you for him to realize who you were.

- The two of you were awkward as anything at first. Since to you he never really spoken in his adventure so you didn’t know how to picture his personality.

- There’s a lot of mystery in your mind about him since again there isn’t much to go off of with what your given in game. It’s weird for him to hear about how you interpret his personality from that perspective.

- Hyrule didn’t honestly expect you to try and befriend him tbh. It mostly him over thinking it.

- You do follow him sometimes when he wants to wander around and explore. Mostly because you claim he finds the coolest things when he does.

- But its just a excuse to actually get to know him.

- The two of you trade stories and questions about each of your lives. There might be things you know that he might not know of about his adventure and his hyrule.

- Of course never going into to much details since there are things you couldn’t tell him.

- Hyrule honestly was dreading the day you all would land in his Era. He loves his home but is also very aware of it not being the most…welcoming place.

- So it’s more then surprising to him that there is even more then the glint of familiarity and excitement on your face. Knowing full well what dangers where a head of you, you still were open to exploring his world to the fullest.

- It’s honestly refreshing to see someone love his era as much as he does.

- Another boy that needs hugs, please give him a hug.

- You both cheer each other on though.

- This relationship is just aggressive support between you two and the others.

Four: (I’m actively mixing the Four Sword game and manga just to be clear.)

- Not sure if he would know exactly who you where since during the second adventure your voice and presence bounce between the four of them.

- Yet I also feel like he took after you because he was a child in his first adventure, which worries you a lot. Since you did have choice words for Vaati.

- The first to realize was Vio then it went Blue, Red and Green. Despite being in the same head it was just a theory they had over all. They all had their own ways of confirming it.

- Vio noticed the small things you do around Four. Like not stepping on their shadow, and covering Four when things got chaotic in their head. Small references here and there. When the two of you are alone he almost quizzes you about things. Just to see how much you know and to see if your telling the true or not.

- Blue recognize your mannerisms being something he picked up on during the first and second adventure. Only vaguely since again he was a child / there was only a small part only with him. Your fighting banter when your in battle made you see where Blue got his colorful language from…

- Your comfort was what clued Red in. He remembers your presence more clearly then the others from the first and second adventure. It was a comforting (yet chaotic) presence in their adventures that he latched on to. More so from his first adventure since as a kid he made an imaginary friend to process the fact he could sense and hear your presence. When you came back in the second time around it felt so natural for Red to have you there and really helped make him go forward through his small journey.

- For Green? It was a lot of things but when he see’s you treating each color differently when they are in charged. It’s a refreshing sight to be honest. He just enjoys hearing and seeing that his brothers had someone to confide in. Even when they switch who is in control you some how could tell and spoke to them accordingly.

- They were all some what surprise that none of the others picked up on your treatment of him swapping so much. Yet their also glad because their not ready to reveal themselves quiet yet.

- As Four or as you nicknamed him ‘Rainbow’ the two of you tend to sick together when the world’s shift around. Since his body needs more time to recover.

- You two are another pair that cheers each other on when the moral is low.

- He introduces you to the Minish! Getting you a jabber nut so you can speak to them too. You can’t shrink down to properly talk to them so this was the next best thing.

- The four of them makes you a dagger to bring home to remember him by, there’s a kin stone imbedded where the blade meets the hilt.

Wind: (hello self projection my dear friend)

- Wind didn’t recognize you ether at first, yet he didn’t even blink when you join everyone. He was fully on board with getting a new member and is easiest the most opened.

- It was when you two are alone together that something clicked in his head. You see during the Wind Waker he was alone most of the time when he was on land. So he had to face a lot by himself.

- Having you was reassuring to him when facing some of the monsters alone, especially with the puppet ganon fight. The two of you both agree that it was creepy.

- CHAOTIC SIBLINGS PART 2… well kinda

- Wind is a lot more mature then you realized but you two still have those moments.

- You, Aryll and Grandma get along too! So he and his family basically sees you and the chain as family.

- Pranking buddies! You’re targets would never know. Mostly because your covering up for him. You two team up with Four and Wild so the pranks can get chaotic at times.

- No matter what age you are compare to him and if your ok with it he does like platonic physical affection. Your going to be trading off with Warriors a lot of the time for cuddles or it’s the three of you together.

- You teaching him our worlds sea shanties and him teaching you his? Heck yeah! Even making up songs with the others is something on the table and in the works which is nice.

- It’s another thing to bring back home thats personalized!

Honestly since I’ve written all of this down I want to write the fic more. Though I’ll probably not only because idk if people would even read it lol. So it will just be a bunch of head canons. Anyway rambling is done.

[cuttoothed]

For the second day of @jonmartinweek, mostly for the prompt "injury", though also a little bit "love confession" (by omission).

Set directly after episode 92. Content warnings for mild descriptions of Jon’s canonical injuries (blood, burns).

*

Things are...tense, when they go back down to the Archives. Actually, “tense” is probably an understatement, after finding out that Elias murdered not only Gertrude Robinson, but also the unknown man in Document Storage—who as it turned out was none other than Juergen bloody Leitner.

A lot to take on board, all in all.

Basira seems to have accepted her new employment status with eerie calm, and starts setting up at Sasha’s old desk (oh god, Sasha’s dead, has been for months), fetching notebooks and folders from the stationery cupboard and arranging pens and highlighters in a desk tidy. Daisy is nowhere to be seen—thankfully, Martin thinks, because she was even scarier than usual in Elias’ office. Melanie storms off into the stacks and there are sounds of shouting and things hitting the floor, which Martin is in no hurry to investigate. Tim sits at his desk with his feet propped up for about five minutes, then stands up and says: “Fuck this, I’m off to the pub.” He doesn’t invite anyone else to go with him, and Martin thinks their presence probably wouldn’t be welcome.

Jon arrives in about half an hour later, smelling of fresh cigarette smoke. Normally Martin would disapprove, but the way things are right now he’s tempted to take up a few bad habits himself. Jon looks...exhausted, defeated, his shoulders slumped wearily. His clothes are smudged with dirt, and there’s drying blood crusted around the injury on his neck; the bandages on his hand are starting to slip, revealing the angry, raw burns beneath.

Martin’s not sure he’s ever been so happy to see someone in his life.

Jon gives him a small, tired smile as he passes, then heads into his office and shuts the door. Martin knows that no sane person would try to go straight back to work looking like they’d just been through a war zone and still with an open wound; he is also aware that Jonathan Sims is the sort of person to do precisely that. He hesitates for a few moments, then makes a decision.

He fetches the first aid kit from the break room, and goes and knocks on Jon’s door. It’s a firm knock, a knock that he hopes says “I’m coming in whether you like it or not”, because it’s not beyond Jon to try to avoid them all for an extended period.

“Come in,” Jon calls, and even his voice sounds exhausted. When he sees Martin enter the room, his expression softens in a way that’s difficult to parse. Is he just relieved that it isn’t one of the others? Or is he actually pleased that it’s Martin?

It’s been two months since Jon went into hiding while suspected of murder, and the last time Martin saw him he had been quite sure Jon was planning to—to hurt himself, somehow. Before that, though, there had been a time when they were...well, close, in a way. Jon had let his guard down around Martin, in the midst of being so suspicious and afraid. He had trusted Martin, when he didn’t trust anyone else, had eaten lunch with him and talked about boring, ordinary things, the tight set of his shoulders relaxing just a little. He had even laughed, sometimes. It had been, despite everything, one of the happier times in Martin’s life, and if that’s not pathetic he doesn’t know what is.

“Hi, Jon,” he says.

“Martin,” says Jon, his tone soft. “It’s so—ahh, how are you?”

“How am I? You’re the one with a bloody great gash in your neck and looking like you put your hand in a fire.” Martin brandishes the first aid kit. “You really should go to the hospital, but I know it would be a waste of my time suggesting it.”

“Thank you for bringing that,” Jon says. “I appreciate it. You can just leave it on the desk.”

“Nope,” Martin tells him cheerily, setting the kit down and opening it. “I know you, Jon. If I leave it with you it’ll still be sitting here untouched tomorrow. Plus, I got my first aid certification when I was working in the library. It’s probably expired now, but I think it still counts.”

Jon looks as if he’s about to protest, but then he huffs a breath that might be a laugh, and nods in concession.

“All right then,” he says.

Martin snaps on a pair of disposable gloves and directs Jon to sit on the desk and undo the top two buttons on his shirt, so Martin can examine the wound on his neck. It’s shallow, fortunately, and the bleeding seems to have already stopped. Martin cleans away the crusted blood as gently as he can, though Jon still winces a few times.

“What happened?” Martin asks, as he smears on antibiotic cream.

“Daisy. She, ah, she decided that I was dangerous. Needed to be dealt with. Fortunately Basira was able to convince her otherwise.”

“Bloody hell,” Martin mutters. He’s not sure why he’s surprised; he’s always felt afraid around Daisy, like a rabbit being in the same room with a fox. But he just sort of assumed it was typical Martin fear of, well, everything. He never thought Daisy would actually hurt any of them. He applies a bandage carefully over the wound, and then turns his attention to Jon’s hand. Unwrapping the bandages reveals the red, blistered mess beneath, and Martin hisses in sympathy.

“Please tell me you went to the hospital for this.”

“I went to a walk-in clinic,” Jon says. “They cleaned it up, gave me some antibiotics and painkillers. They, uh, they did recommend I see my GP for follow up monitoring, and that I should get a referral to a physiotherapist, but, well, it’s been a busy few days.”

“Jon,” Martin sighs, exasperated, and Jon smiles a bit shakily.

“I know,” he says. “I will go to a GP, I promise. It’s just a bit tricky when you’re wanted for murder. Anyway, it seems to be healing rather well, all things considered.”

Martin considers whether to apply antibiotic cream, but the skin doesn’t seem to be broken, and he knows it’s best not to touch the area more than needed. Instead, he rewraps it with clean, dry bandages, being sure to keep them loose.

“How did this happen?” he asks, to distract himself from the fact that he is, technically, holding Jon’s hand. Jon gives a self-deprecating laugh.

“I, uh, I was trying to get information from a devotee of the Lightless Flame. This was her price.”

“The Lightless Flame? That cult—from the statements?”

“The same. As it turns out, a—a lot of things from the statements are real. Unpleasantly so.”

“I—yeah, I sort of figured that out when Tim and I got trapped in these weird corridors for days by that Michael...thing.”

Jon’s face blanches, his brows furrowing.

“You—god, Martin, I didn’t know. Are you—I mean, you’re okay, obviously, but— Have you seen Michael since?”

“No, and I hope I don’t.” Martin feels faintly nauseous at the memory. He doesn’t realize his hands are trembling slightly until the fingers of Jon’s hand, the unburned one, touch his wrist.

“I’m so sorry, Martin,” he says. “When I realized a-about Sasha, about that thing, I hoped I could take care of it myself, spare you and Tim. I never wanted to drag you into all this.”

“I don’t think there’s much avoiding it,” Martin mutters miserably. “And you didn’t seem to mind dragging Melanie into it, while you were on the lam.”

“I shouldn’t have asked her for help either. It wasn’t fair to put any of you in the position of aiding a suspected murderer.”

“I never believed you did it,” Martin tells him fiercely. “It just would have been nice to know you were okay, you know?”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I—I wanted to contact you, but it seemed too risky. I knew the police would be watching you, since we’re friends. Or—or at least friendly.”

Everyone I’ve talked to says you and him were close. Martin had been ridiculously pleased by the accusation at the time, and he feels the same now, with Jon’s injured hand cradled in both of his. Jon trusts Martin with his wounds, his vulnerability. Jon wanted to contact him; Jon thinks they’re friends.

“I—” Martin starts to say, and he doesn’t know if his next words will be I missed you or I worry about you or some humiliating romantic confession blurted out and impossible to take back. He draws a deep breath, and instead says: “I’m glad you’re back, and that you’re okay. I don’t have that many friends, I can’t afford to lose one.”

He says it like a joke, and mercifully, Jon takes it as one, and gives a relieved laugh. Martin realizes he’s long since finished bandaging the burn and is now just sort of...holding Jon’s hand; he releases it, reluctantly, and Jon smiles, lifting his other hand to touch the bandage on his throat.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says, hopping down from the desk. “I appreciate it, really.”

“As a token of your appreciation, you can go ahead and make a doctor’s appointment for that hand,” says Martin firmly, closing up the first aid kit.

“I will,” Jon says solemnly, and Martin believes him, but he’s also going to check in and remind him at the end of the day because Jon has a tendency to forget about trivial things like his own wellbeing. It’s just who he is, and Martin’s made his peace with it, like he’s made his peace with being utterly, hopelessly gone for Jonathan Sims.

“I was going to make some tea, if you fancy,” he says as he opens the door. “You look like you could use a cup.”

“Oh, yes, that would be lovely, thank you. Oh, and Martin?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad I’m back as well. I—” Jon hesitates a moment, then says: “I missed your tea.”

It’s not much of a declaration, but Martin understands what Jon means by it; for the two of them, it means a lot.

[diamond-coral]

The Heist- Part One

dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

You were just supposed to rob a government official’s apartment. Not Captain America’s. Right?

Series Warnings: Dark, Rape/Non-Con, kidnapping, strip club stuff, swearing

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of a strip club, swearing, committing crime ig, nothing much really.

You sure as hell weren’t a criminal. Well- your record would say otherwise, but it’s not like this was your dream profession. You wouldn’t call yourself a criminal. More of a Walmart Robin Hood; stealing from the rich and giving too...well...yourself. Fine. You were a criminal. But a girl had to pay the bills. At least you got to stick it to the man, right?

You let out a sigh while evaluating your life choices. It wasn’t every little girl’s dream to be breaking into houses and apartments for some cash or valuable possessions. Technically, you were an artist by day, going to art school in New York, living the aesthetically pleasing dream of student loans and a sky-high rent that your shifts at the strip club were hardly making a dent in. But hey, at least one time you got to dance for Captain America, even if he was reluctant and a bit shy. You were certain very few women could say the same.

And that’s how you found yourself in the elevator of a cozy apartment complex, traveling upward toward your new objective. Bella, your roommate, literal partner in crime, and the only good thing that came out of socializing with your coworkers at the club, had given you a new lead of a man who was supposedly loaded and yet lived in an accessible and modest living space. He was single, and worked some sort of political job that left his apartment constantly vacant, specifically on the day you planned for your heist. A perfect target. Some corrupt government worker who wanted to live a ‘low profile life’ yet was dumb enough to settle down in a complex who’s only security was a couple cameras and guards. Bella would easily be able to freeze the frames on the cameras for an hour, giving security the false pretense that the hallways were empty and giving you the perfect window to snatch some fancy watches and some cash.

The elevator doors opened right as you received a text message from Bella.

Cameras taken care of. Now go pay our rent ;)

You exited the elevator only to collide with a blonde woman carrying a laundry basket.

“Oh god, I’m so clumsy I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed while bending down to pick up the clothes that had fallen out of the basket.

You bent down to help her collect her clothing. “No, I’m so sorry! That was completely my fault!” You offered a smile as you stood back up, but was met with a calculating gaze as she studied you.

“I’m sorry, are you new around here?” She seemed to catch herself and her demeanor changed. “It’s just, I’ve never seen you around here before.” She gave  a small smile.

“Oh ,I’m just a girlfriend!” you replied. “Just stopping by.”

“Are you Steve’s girlfriend?” she asked while gesturing to the door at the end of the hallway with her head. It was your target’s door. So the political scumbag’s name was Steve. Lovely. “I don’t think he’s home right now.”

Your brain churned out a fast response. “Yeah, I know. Unfortunately for me, he’s always working. I just left my purse, and he gave me his keys to stop by and pick it up.”

“Well I’m just glad he’s found someone with all his work. I know it’s been hard for him.”

The two of you exchanged one last goodbye smile before she stepped into the elevator.

“I’m Sharon by the way. And you are...?”

“Olivia,” you replied, the fake name came out as a second nature as the elevator doors closed.

You let out the breath you’d been holding. 

“Well that could’ve gone worse,” you mutter to yourself as you approach the door at the end of the hallway.

You slipped the lock picker out of your sleeve before checking your surroundings cautiously. A minute after proceeding to insert the pick into the lock, a soft click resounded from the wooden door, and it easily swung open with a turn of the knob.

As you entered through the doorway, you took into account the little bits of vintage decoration that was dispersed amongst more modern furniture. A small Uncle Sam poster, a couple of war antiques, and some old photos with figures that remained unrecognizable in the distance. This government official seemed to have fought either in World War II or Vietnam, probably making him old. You shuddered at the fact you’d called yourself his girlfriend, but Sharon hadn’t seemed to bat an eye. Either way, you didn’t care for antiques, as much as they would have sold for a hefty price. They were probably personal to him and as you walked around, you realized there were quite a few personal items that were no use for you. As you walked into the bedroom a glint from the dresser caught your eyes, and your chest filled with giddiness and excitement as you neared. Three beautiful watches were on display under the mirror that sat atop the dresser. A Cartier that would probably sell for 8,000, a Rolex that would go for 10,000 easily, and then a beautiful older Rolex. With careful hands you snatched up the two newer watches and placed them into the small knapsack you’d been carrying. After consideration, you decided to leave the older one as it probably held a sentimental value and wouldn’t give you as much money as the other two.

You walked around some more, occasionally picking up valuables like solid gold tie clips and little pieces of Stark technology, which you were surprised he had. You had to be filthy rich to support, much less afford, anything made by that war profiteer. You picked up stashes of cash lying around, which seemed to be a lot. This man definitely seemed to use cash more than credit card which wasn’t as common around people your age. As you were rummaging around his study for any pieces of fine art (which you had already gotten two of) or government documents you could sell on the black market, you knocked over a picture frame which had landed on a file that read CLASSIFIED in red letters...right under the six letters that spelled S.H.I.E.L.D. This fucker was a S.H.I.E.L.D official. You were gonna kill Bella for the vague intel.

“Shit I need to get out of here,” you mumbled. Senators and representatives were fine targets, all usually too old and skeevy for you to care about, but a S.H.I.E.L.D. official was dangerous and could get you somewhere worse than jail. Hell, you could’ve accidentally broken into Nick Fury’s place. You were screwed. So screwed. And you needed to get the hell out of this apartment. As you went to put the picture back, you glanced at it, before doing a double take and squinting at it in the dark room. Oh. This was much worse than accidentally breaking into Nick Fury’s place.

The two men laughing with an arm around each other in war uniforms with an arm around one another was innocent enough until you could finally make out their faces. Steve Rogers an easy enough one to make out, especially considering you were on his lap a couple weeks ago, and James Buchanan Barnes looked practically unrecognizable without a murderous glare on his face.

“No,” you muttered before quickly placing the picture back down. 

You once again assessed your surroundings. It all made sense. The subtle 1940’s vibe, the war antiques. Bella had said he did work for the government and that wasn’t a lie. In the corner of the room you spotted a large circular leather case that was partially unzipped. Through the slight opening of the brown leather, the red, blue, and glinting bright silver was unmistakable.

“No, no, no, fuck,” you muttered frantically as you checked your watch. You still had 38 minutes before the security cameras in the hall unfroze. That was enough time to put everything you stole back. You’d much rather work open to close shifts at the club every day for three months straight than get fucked over by Captain Fucking America. 

You scrambled out of the study, moving to the living room first to put back the authentic paintings. You grabbed a stool from the high bar counter in the kitchen so you could rehang the medium sized work of art. Your mind was racing. This had to be karma for all the horrible shit you’d done in the past. God decided he had enough of your delinquent shenanigans and set you marching straight into the arms of America’s righteous hero. As you finished hanging the painting you spun around on your heel, completely forgetting you were on a wobbly wooden stool. Your heart stopped for a moment before you regained your footing. Carefully climbing down the stool, you almost missed the subtle turn of a lock coming from the door.

Oh you were so done for. Your limbs flew everywhere as you scrambled to the bedroom, sliding under the bed right as you heard the door open. The rumble of Steve Roger’s voice was clear as he talked on the phone and it cut through the walls from the living room.

“Well yea Buck, obviously Tony’s gonna be a little cold toward you. Not that I blame him. I’m just thankful he didn’t start an entire civil war over it. I guess it’s just a good thing we’re not war criminals.” He let out a chuckle before pausing. “Hey Buck? Yeah. I’m gonna have to call you back.” Another pause and you heard some rummaging around. “Why? I think my apartment was just broken into. I gotta go down to security. Yeah, thanks bud.” 

Steve hung up and you heard some angry muttering as he walked into his room. From under the bed you saw his tennis shoes and dark jeans as he paced at the foot of the bed. You covered your mouth to stop your anxious breathing, afraid he’d hear you from your hiding spot. 

The few minutes he spent in his room felt like eternity before he stomped out and you heard the opening and closing of another door as he exited the apartment. You crawl out from under the bed, your head spinning as you attempted to think of a way out of your predicament.

The window.

Quickly and quietly, you stood up and made your way to his bedroom window, looking out for a fire escape and letting out an annoyed huff when you saw none.

‘Maybe there’s one for the living room window,’ your brain chimed.

You rushed to the living room, scooping up the two watches and your empty knapsack on your way, and almost screamed with joy at the sight of the fire escape next to the window. Your fingers curled around the bottom of it and give it a sharp tug up, opening it just enough for you to squeeze through. 

Just as you were about to lift your leg over the ledge and climb down the stairs to sweet sweet freedom, being able to forget about everything that ever happened tonight, a large hand wrapped around the back of your neck and wrenched you back with such force that you tumbled backwards and landed on your butt.

He was massive. Six feet of pure muscle towered over you as you trembled from your position on the floor. He squatted down, resting his elbows on his knees as he took you in, blue eyes practically cutting through the darkness, and you let out a small whimper.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you stealing is wrong?”

[just-another-ghoul-lover]

May I request crushing companions (including dlcs if you can) reacting to a very sarcastic sole genuinely lightening up and going "Let's get married for tax benefits! We can even fake a wedding and call eachother honey and darling!" Like they just had the idea of the century, hurriedly grabbing them by the hand and rushing them over to tell someone about their newest scheme

Took me a minute to figure out which companions you meant then I saw you used sole.

Fallout four companions react to sole proposing for tax benefits

Cait

Is completely baffled by the suggestion

Sure she’s into sole but the idea of marriage?

Also with their traveller type life style she never really had to pay taxes before so the idea to marry for that reason just baffles her even more.

Most likely would ask what the hell sole is talking about and if sole persists she’d tell them they’d have to take her to dinner first. Only half jokingly.

Curie

She is a lady who very much follows the rules to a T so the idea of trying to deceive the government in anyway would make her turn up her nose.

When explained that technically it’s not morally wrong and just a way to keep more caps to survive and help more people she may be slightly persuaded.

But over all she would be against the idea because she is a classy lady who believes marriage is just for those who are truly in love and she can’t for certain say that sole feels the same way.

Danse.

danse.exe has stopped working

After the initial shock of being proposed to by someone he has romantic feelings for he realizes that it is infact just a scheme that sole has made up.

Lectures sole on the importance of taxes and how they benefit the commonwealth as well as the brotherhood.

Would be pretty disappointed in them for a while.

Deacon

He loves this idea.

Suggests they make up a fake identity each so they can play up being the mushy in love couple whenever they go on missions.

He already had a tux

He has a level of emotional distance to this compared to the other companions. He sees this as an opportunity instead of a real marriage.

Maccready

He sputters for a second trying to grasp what sole actually said to him.

After getting grips back on reality he asks if they are actually serious about this.

If sole is really serious about this it will take a bit of convincing for him since he was married before and it could feel like it tarnished lucy’s memory.

But if they save a lot of caps with it he is totally on board.

Hancock

Tries to calm sole down while also trying to keep his composer

Goes on about how as mayor he can’t just pull something like this

He makes sure to slip in a flirty remark about how he wouldn’t mind acting like a couple with sole before going back to telling them why he cant do this

He couldn’t take caps away from the People of goodneighbor even if it meant marrying sole.

Nick valentine

Asks if sole is okay,if they are over exhausted or something because this is truly a crazy idea

Sure he pays taxes for the Agency so the idea of getting some financial leverage is a nice idea.

“You know I use to bust people for doing this kind of thing before the war?”

Is against the idea and try’s to get sole to see the error of their ways

Piper.

Is in total shock for a little bit before making sure she heard the question right

After thinking it over she is totally down

Might make it easier to take care of nat with a few extra caps around

And acting all lovey dovey with sole doesn’t sound too bad either.

Preston.

Nope

He won’t do it

He was shocked at the proposal at first

But he won’t marry someone just for financial reasons.

He may make some comment about “is that why you married your husband?”

Gage.

Hell yeah scam those bastards out of all of they caps you can

This man won’t pay taxes anyways

This is a win win for gage.

He does make the rule no acting lovey dovey in front of the gang leaders though.

Old Longfellow.

He is too old for this shit

Almost gave the poor guy a heart attack when you mentioned marriage.

He cracks a joke about how sole just wants his inheritance then moves along to another topic.

X6-88

Tries to explain to sole that they don’t need to pay taxes as the director of the institute

As well as tries to explain it wouldn’t make sense for them to marry a courser.

He is just overall confused by this whole incident.

[clairenatural]

Movie night, nervous dean, blanket

My three word prompt, sorry I know it's not technically three words.. I would really appreciate a ficlet, love your account and love you ❤❤❤❤

(this is so sweet thank you!!! I’ll count “movie night” and “nervous dean” as one word each :) ~800 words, I hope you enjoy!! also I’m pretending that there’s a couch in the Dean Cave ok just go with it)

“Alright, who’s ready for some Indy?” Dean calls, rounding the corner into the Dean Cave. He’s got a huge bowl of popcorn, an armful of beers, and is ready for a movie night with his brother and his best friend—

He stops. “Where’s Sam?”

Cas smiles as he looks up from his phone, but the smile dies on his face at the look on Dean’s. “Eileen’s. Apparently, he was needed elsewhere.” There’s a pause that’s more tense than it should be. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah! Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” Dean plasters on a fake grin and sets the popcorn on a side table before sinking into one end of the couch. It’s as far away as possible from Cas, who looks at him, eyebrows raised. “What?” Dean asks, and when Cas doesn’t say anything, he stubbornly turns his attention back to the popcorn.

It shouldn’t be weird. They’ve done movie nights alone plenty of times. He’s shown Cas all the Star Wars movies, and Tombstone, and all the classic westerns. But that was before. Before Cas left—before Dean didn’t stop him. Before purgatory, the second time. Before he’d gotten down on his knees and prayed to Cas for the first time in what felt like forever, and told him (almost) everything. He’d been about to take the final leap, too, when Cas cut him off. You don’t have to say it. I heard your prayer.

And maybe that was for the best. Hell, maybe Cas did hear that part, and he was cutting Dean off for his own good.

Either way, now he was here. And Cas was here. Without Sam. Which was fine, because they were fine. Right?

Cas is still staring at him.

Dean presses play.

He puts the popcorn bowl on the couch next to him and passes a beer to Cas, who takes it—and scoots over, directly next to the popcorn bowl. Directly next to Dean.

He doesn’t even eat popcorn, so that’s—weird.

The movie plays, but Dean isn’t paying attention. Cas has taken off his trench coat and suit jacket, which he’s been doing more, lately. Something about his powers sputtering out making comfort more important, or something. He’s been sleeping, too, even though he pretends like he hasn’t been. Now, he’s reaching into the popcorn bowl, and only wincing a bit when the molecules hit his tongue. Dean tracks the movement intensely—out of concern, of course. Concern. For his friend. He definitely doesn’t time his movements so their fingers brush against each other in the popcorn bowl when Cas goes back in, like he’s a kid on his first movie date.

They finish the popcorn, and Dean moves the bowl unceremoniously to the floor, and then suddenly the bowls-width that separates them seems like a lot less space than it did with the thing actually there. Close enough that if Dean was a kid on his first movie date, he could do the cliché yawn-and-stretch move. Instead when he reaches out, it’s for the old blanket lying across the couch instead, mostly just to have something to occupy his hands. He wraps it around himself like cocoon and tells himself that now he can’t do anything stupid like try to hold Cas’ hand.

He enjoys his pocket of warmth and security for approximately 10 seconds, until he looks up and makes eye contact with Cas. The angel looks away, but not before Dean reads the odd sort of longing in his expression.

Dean looks at the blanket. He looks back at Cas. He takes a deep breath and makes a decision.

He kicks Cas in the shin, only hard enough to get his attention, and then wordlessly lifts up one half of the blanket.

Maybe he’s getting cold now, too, Dean thinks, as Cas smiles and moves closer, picking up the other end.

Maybe angels huddle for warmth he reasons, as Cas shuffles closer yet again; but he doesn’t pull back, and the angel seems to take that as permission to close in on Dean until they’re pressed together, shoulder to ankle.

“Thank you,” Cas says, so quietly it’s almost inaudible under the action of the movie, which definitely just means thank you for sharing your blanket because I, an Angel of the Lord, am cold.

Dean’s thought process has been reduced to the flimsy excuse of I need to make sure he doesn’t catch a cold when he slips an arm around Cas’ shoulders, and by the time Cas finds his hand under the blankets and links their fingers together his brain has short-circuited past the point of arguing.

He doesn’t remember the rest of the movie, or the gradual slide down the couch from sitting to lying down, but when he blinks awake the next morning it’s with Cas on top of him, soundly asleep, dark hair tickling his nose. He shouldn’t be asleep, and Dean will worry about it later—but for now, he closes his eyes and tries to commit the feeling to memory.

He doesn’t notice the note on the table, hastily scribbled in Sam’s handwriting: you’re welcome.

[for my follower celebration]

[jungblue]

aphrodite in war pt.3 | preview

note: This is just a short preview for AiW pt3. I know I left things on a terrible cliffhanger a few months ago. Life got extremely and unexpectedly hectic, but things are starting to get a little bit better, and I hope to get the full chapter out next month. Also, I appreciate everyone who has sent me messages during this time. I will eventually answer all of them, I promise. And I hope anyone who liked AiW enjoys this snippet!

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: comedy, fluff, angst, eventual smut / greek life, fake dating, roommates, lovers to enemies and back to lovers au

description: Everyone knew about the war that had been brewing on the edge of campus for the past two years. Sorority versus Fraternity; a showdown for the ages. However, when the escalating antics between them yields the consequence of possible suspensions for both chapters, the presidents of each house must come together to try and figure out how to end this battle… Which is kind of hard, considering they were the ones responsible for it in the first place.

→ part one / part two

Leave or stay? Leave or stay? Leave or stay? The decision should have been harder, or at the very least leaving should have been an option that was considered more heavily. After all, there was technically nothing wrong with this situation. This was his apartment and you weren’t supposed to be moving in for a few days, so in theory this was perfectly understandable — But plans change.

Classes get cancelled. Move in dates get pushed up. You walk in on your ex-boyfriend turned current fake boyfriend mid-fuck. So yeah, leaving was probably the more appropriate response… But the declaration of “Well, honey, I’m home now,” forced its way past your lips regardless; the door closing behind you and marking your choice to stay.

“Y/N!” Jungkook shouted, yanking a blanket off of the floor that you assumed had fallen during their… activities, and pulling it over their bodies. “Jesus fucking Christ! What’re you doing here?”

At this point the girl beneath Jungkook had the covers smashed against her face, clearly embarrassed by this ordeal. You admittedly felt bad, knowing that if you were in this position you would also be cowering beneath the blanket and wanting to sink into the pits of the Earth. But again, the decision had already been made. You were in the apartment and Jungkook’s glare of death was currently trying to claw its way past your skin.

You weren’t going to back down though. Instead, you kept a smile plastered on your face and started to walk past the couch and stood in front of a room that was empty aside from some basic furniture. “I assume this is mine?” You asked casually, and that seemed to only infuriate him more.

He scoffed. “Are you serious?” And suddenly he was sitting up and yanking on his boxers before stomping towards you. “That’s what you’re asking right now?”

“I mean I do have to know where to put my stuff. Unless you’re trying to get me to stay in your room?” You paused and glanced towards the couch. “But from what I can see you probably have enough company in there as it is.”

Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his palms against his temples with a groan. “First of all, you weren’t supposed to be moving in yet, so the courteous thing to do when you see something like that is to fucking turn around and leave.”

At this point the snarky attitude you were putting on was starting to get replaced with actual anger. You dropped all of the bags you had wrapped around various parts of your body onto the floor inside of the room so that you could face him without pounds of clothes weighing you down.

“My class was cancelled, and I wasn’t about to carry all of my bags back downstairs just because you decided to get your dick wet in the middle of the living room and not your own bed.”

Jungkook stared at you with this incredulous smile, as if he couldn’t believe that you thought that you were right in this situation. And in all honesty you weren’t sure if you were right. If the roles had been reversed, you probably would’ve wanted him to leave, so, sure, maybe you were being a giant hypocrite and maybe you should’ve apologized, but unfortunately you didn’t get the chance to before he decided to make his final, stinging comment.

“Jesus, just stop, Y/N.” He paused, and it felt as though he was looking down at you with such pity. “Stop making bitchy comments about my sex life every chance you get. It hasn't been your business for a long time now, so just drop the guilt trips already.”

You recoiled at how hard his words slapped you across the face with humiliation. It stunned you, and you were left standing there, unsure of how to even respond. Instead, your eyes danced across the floor, not wanting to see that pitiful expression being cast towards you. And you might’ve just stood there, forever paralyzed by his words, if not for a thankful interruption.

“I don’t know what the hell’s going on here, but I’m leaving.” You glanced towards the woman that had been lying beneath Jungkook when you walked in. She was fully dressed now. You had been so consumed with your short-lived argument that you hadn’t even noticed her putting her clothes on. “Bye,” She hissed, clearly annoyed, and you didn’t blame her for that.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jungkook repeated before turning to do a short jog towards her and putting his hand on her waist. “I’m so sorry. I know this has gotta seem beyond fucking weird.”

“Uhm, yeah.” She scoffed. “What is this? Were you using me to cheat on your girlfriend, asshole?”

“No, no, that’s not it. She’s my… ex-girlfriend.” He paused, probably trying to search for a simple explanation, but there was so no simple explanation for this circumstance that the two of you had put yourself in. “It’s very complicated.”

She let out a small laugh as she rolled her eyes. “Well, have fun figuring that out.”

Jungkook tried to say something else, but she was already pushing her way outside. And you decided to follow her lead, because before he could even turn around to face you again, you had already slammed the bedroom door behind you before sliding down to the floor. You buried your head between your knees, muttering to yourself about how much of an idiot you were between shaky breaths.

[ikroah]

Whiskey river, take my mind, don't let her memory torture me. Whiskey river, don't run dry, you're all I got, take care of me. —“Whiskey River,” Shotgun Willie (1973)

It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’ #15 - Vegas Outskirts

Collaborative Issue! Guest Colorist: @malpaislegate​ / @socksual-innuendos​

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Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:

Notes:

MAN that’s gotta hurt!! Volume 2 kicks off with a bang, literally if you count the gunshot and honorifically if you count Socks’ knockout color job on this issue. Look at those lovingly rendered bullet wounds!! Muah!!!

It’s been a relief having a month off from the comic as I handled a bunch of other things but there’s a lot to look forward to in Volume 2, as you can probably tell from that very forboding fist clench at the end there. Will Agnes and Cass get the revenge they’re looking for? Can they make it big in Vegas? Will it keep right on a-hurtin’? Find out next ish as Cass leads Agnes to meet the first of their new “friends.”

Original Pencils:

The pencils for this issue are like an autopsy report of all the things that can go wrong with your art if you don’t plan ahead and pay attention. Listen, friend, to my tale of woe, and learn from my mistakes so they don’t become yours!

First, you can see a lot of places where there’s floating objects, empty backgrounds, and incomplete heads. Part of this is because I always intended to just copy and paste repeated elements across each panel instead of drawing them multiple times, but other times I was forced to just because of my lack of planning. The top three panels on page two, for example, required me to draw the background I’d use for them on a separate page.

Second, you can probably tell that I actually had to flip the two raiders around in the final lineart because I forgot to keep the hands their were holding their guns in consistent—and since I couldn’t flip the middle panel on the second page without ruining the composition, I decided to flip all of their other appearances so that they’d be lefties. I doubt you even can seamlessly wield those particular guns left-handed.

Third, the size of the cart that Agnes and Cass are kneeling behind changes CONSTANTLY and is dramatically oversized from the third page onward. After inking these pages, it took a lot of work to correct the inks and shrink that cart in each panel, but fortunately it came out looking good.

And finally, I completely redrew the second panel on the fifth page because it wasn’t until I had already handed he pages off to my colorist that I realized having a second profile shot of Cass so soon after a first one was just...redundant and lazy-looking. So I went back to my sketchbook and whipped up a much more unique, striking angle (I also just wasn’t satisfied with the quality of my art on that panel, so I’m very glad I redrew it). But again, my failure to plan ahead bit me in the ass and my redraw attempt wound up taking up a lot more space than I thought it would, so after inking it I had to basically surgically remove it from the other inks.

I’ll be honest with you folks: part of the reason that I work in such simple, thick, high-contrast lineart is because it’s very easy to make corrections and adjustments with stuff you could technically color in Microsoft Paint.

Transcript:

EXT. SOMEWHERE IN THE MOJAVE, morning. AGNES SANDS and ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY stand over the wreckage of a caravan, scattered over a dirt road.

CASS: Hell.

EXT. SOMEWHERE ELSE IN THE MOJAVE, midday. Looking over a second wrecked caravan, at the bottom of a ditch.

CASS: Fuck.

EXT. PRE-WAR HIGHWAY OUTSIDE OF VEGAS, mid-afternoon. AGNES and CASS survey a third wrecked caravan.

CASS: Shit. The proof is in the pudding. Or the pile of ash, rather. These attacks were done with Van Graff guns for Crimson Caravan caps. I'm sure of it.

As CASS explains her theory to AGNES, a short distance from the caravan two RAIDERS peer at the two of them from inside a barn at a ruined farmstead. They have snake-bite tattoos on the sides of their shaved heads and are holding rifles.

CASS: The scorchmarks and residue in the wreckages? That's energy weapon shit. Plasma and laser. Silver Rush special. Not like it'd be the Brotherhood. And Crimson Caravan must have bankrolled this fucked-up little hunting trip themselves.

The RAIDERS move out from the barn, sneaking up on two passers-by who’ve stopped at the caravan wreckage.

CASS: That explains why they bought me out...they needed the last loose end to saddle up back west with a tidy sum.

(NOTE: *Agnes delivered it and Cass signed it in IKROAH #7—Lou.)

CASS: It's a racket, Agnes: torch the local competition and it's win-win for both the f—

SFX: KRAK

A gunshot rips out from one of the RAIDERS’ rifles and sears across CASS’ shoulder.

CASS (gasping): —uckers.

CASS slumps down beneath the overturned caravan wagon on the road, clutching her shot shoulder.

CASS: —Aaggghghhhhhhh.

AGNES: Cass! Are you—

CASS: Fuck! Agnes, get down you moron!

AGNES ducks behind the cover of the wooden caravan wagon just as another gunshot splinters the top lip of it.

SFX: DTHWAK!

The RAIDERS advance on CASS and AGNES’ position, firing at them from off the road.

SFX: KRAK

AGNES leans over the top of the wagon with her pistol, returning fire.

SFX: BTAK BTAK BTAK

AGNES lands a shot right in one of the RAIDERS’ guts, and she drops her weapon and falls down.

SFX: SPLUT

CASS, leaning out the side of the wagon, takes as careful of aim as she can with her shotgun by holding it with her good arm. Trembling, she fires, connecting with the other RAIDER.

SFX: KBLAM

The would-have-been RAIDERS are dead.

AGNES: ...were those the Van Graffs?

CASS: No. Just some vultures.

CASS leans back behind cover to sit against the bottom of the overturned wagon again, wincing from her shoulder injury.

CASS: Ugghhn.

AGNES (slipping off duffel bag): Cass, your shoulder—

CASS: Yeah, it's been shot. I'm pretty fucking aware.

AGNES (unzipping bag): Quick, can you take your shirt off—

CASS: What!?

AGNES: —so I can dress the wound, Cass!

CASS: Oh! Good! So you weren't coming onto me on what remains of Griffin Wares Caravan.

CASS starts removing her shirt while AGNES produces a bottle of something from her duffel bag, and dampens a rag with its contents.

CASS: And since when are you a fucking field medic, anyway?

AGNES: 2269. NCR Certified.

CASS: What?

AGES: Yeah. I've been one kind of doctor or another since I was six.

CASS: What?

AGNES: Now hold still, this is antiseptic.

CASS: Since you were six!? I...shit, wait, hang on, Agnes—

AGNES pressess the rag onto CASS’ shoulder wound, and CASS winces instinctively. But, confusingly, there isn’t any pain.

CASS: ...isn't this supposed to sting like hell?

AGNES: No, not really. It's an acetic acid solution. Vinegar, basically.

AGNES begins cleaning the wound with the rag.

CASS: I thought you put alcohol on wounds to clean them.

AGNES: That's...a common misconception. It's good for tools, maybe, but too strong for skin. And it can complicate healing if you apply it directly.

CASS: So you're telling me, all my years, I've been wasting good whiskey only making my boo-boos worse?

AGNES: I mean...it's better than nothing in a pinch, but...

CASS: Well, then. Thanks for the lecture, doc. Can you just pass the whiskey anyway? Shoulder still hurts like hell regar—

AGNES hands her the whiskey bottle. She’d already gotten it out.

CASS: —dless. Oh. Thanks.

AGNES unspools a roll of bandages in her hands, then begins wrapping it over CASS’ shoulder and across her chest..

AGNES: So. It's a relatively minor wound, more of a deep graze than a real gunshot.

CASS: You'd know all about real gunshots, huh?

AGNES (unfazed): Uh-huh. I can suture it if necessary, but for now, these bandages will be fine. Just hold still. How do you feel?

CASS: I feel fucking pissed, Agnes!

AGNES recoils, taken aback slightly.

CASS: As I was saying before I got shot in the shoulder—which, however "minor" the wound, is real fucking close to my head, Agnes—this wasn't some random attack. These caravans, my caravan, got hit by the Van Graffs and Crimson Caravan. It ain't just some tragedy anymore. Now I've got names. Places. Faces.

AGNES resumes bandaging CASS.

CASS: I told you—ow! Don't pinch my tit, dammit—

AGNES: I said hold still.

CASS: —I told you, when you told me about this guy who shot you...when I let you drag me out of that fucking outpost...and when we went to Boulder City...that I would do the exact same thing in your shoes. Now, it is the exact same thing. This fucker shoots your eye out, these fuckers ash my caravan...these same fuckers I sold my own goddamn name to on a piece of paper. I mean...what else are we doing out here, Agnes? Getting shot at by Khans and Raiders just for kicks? Are we just fucking around?

AGNES finishes bandaging CASS, then leans back, pensive.

AGNES: No...no, I really guess we’re not.

CASS: That's what I thought. Your friend in Vegas can wait. Help me get mine, and we can get that shitheel together, and that's a prom—

CASS raises her arm  to shake her fist as she speaks, straining her shoulder injury.

CASS: —mmmmmmghhhh. Ooww, oww, oww, oww...

CASS grabs her shoulder in pain while AGNES looks off in the distance and stands up. She looks out towards the horizon—towards VEGAS, and the pre-war casinos and hotels that still gleam and glitter in blinding sunlight.

Her fist clenches. Her brow furrows. Her body tenses, all over, staring at that city, that place.

The caravan wreckage remains alone on the highway, brahmin bones long picked clean by scavengers.

AGNES SANDS IN: IT KEEPS RIGHT ON A HURTIN’

VOLUME 2: MAKE IT BIG IN VEGAS