#then i gotta recruit doc!

[kentocalls]

umemiya hajime | captain an idea that wouldn't leave my head. vauge military!au, sfw.

it's no secret captain umemiya trains solo into the late hours of the night. why you thought he'd not be here is beyond reason. or maybe the pain medication. you're favoring your injured knee as you steady yourself, admiring your captain as he moves so effortlessly.

he's a close combat specialist, skill second to none.  joined the cause so young it makes you embarrassed to be just two years shy from his age. he's such a decorated thirty something captain and somehow you managed to level your skills to be recruited to his team.

vice captain hiragi  had warned you, captain umemiya does not take injuries lightly, don't do something reckless. the vice captain would always let you sneak off and start training after injury early. granted, he'd stick you on desk duty for a whole month as punishment but he never stopped you from working out.

in your spacing out, umemiya notices your lingering form near an incline bench press. with 55lbs loaded. he normally, wouldn't care if subordinates train late; understands the need to work off tension, especially  after an extensive extermination job. but you? the one his eyes undeniable glue to?

"what are you doing out of bed? shouldn't you be icing that knee and resting?" his voice stern, not the usual playful tone he keeps during daylight. putting away his training blade as he approaches you, body gracefully light despite the weight of his presence.

"some light, rehabilitation?" you smile, soft and sweet. that usually works on vice captain hiragi. 

"rehabilitation, already? not sure the doc put that in your chart for another 3-4 weeks."  he watches closely, looking for any evidence of discomfort, knowing full well your left knee hasn't been the same for a few weeks. and the last extermination job had you taking a nasty fall. no amount of stretching, massage or light runs are going to aide the recovery. 

captain umemiya reviewed your charts personally, the best thing to do is rest. you gotta go slow, take a break. all things hiragi told him you hate doing.  she's restless if she's not helpful, reckless if she has something to protect. and you did protect him after all. that nasty fall was his fault. what kind of captain is he?

you stumble when attempting to sit up from the bench press. the captain's eyebrows furrow, "really shouldn't be doing any of that."

"and what about you? thought it was lights out for everyone on base, captain." stay formal, it's so easy to slip and act like you're friends. captain umemiya has that charm about him, none of the military formality seems to last.

he puts his hands up, offering a grin and "touche."

"couldn't sleep so i thought i'd get extra taining in. don't think i'll be getting any rest tonight though."

"too much paperwork again?" concern etched on your face, you don't like when the captain stresses. especially on paperwork, you've been lucky enough to catch a sight of his pretty face wearing glasses, staring into 12pt font forms with a glare so deadly, it sends shivers down your back now. 

he exhales, looking you up and down, "again, you should be in bed, solider."

"what's on your mind captain?" 

the last extermination, the fact that he wasn't fast enough, he has to travel to HQ to report on the damage. and you. he'll be gone for seven days and knows your mandatory best rest won't happen.  he doesn't trust you to actually rest, without him to supervise you're going to push back into training and risk a worse injury. 

he already feels guilty for dragging you into the fight, your platoon was supposed to keep guard of the rear, not provide additional support. but the extermination priority escalated and you were the closet solider with the strongest rank. 

the attack, you tripping and being pelted with debris....well, it isn't a sight his mind seems to let go. 

"hey...this isn't your fault, captain." you point at your knee. "it's been creaking like an old rocking chair for weeks. it was going to flare up, i was bound to trip."

"i should've moved faster. you got hit and i couldn't do anything ot prevent it. i should've seen it coming." he wears guilt like an expensive, delicate coat. too careful to place it anywhere but on his own shoulders.

you see now why vice captain hiragi told you to be careful. it wasn't for your sake really, it's for your captain that dotes on everyone in the platoon. 

"we can't control the world captain. you used you best judgement in that moment, we completed the extermination and prevented damage to the city. please, this injury is not your fault. don't put that on yourself."

you see his jaw clench, frustration and exhaustion bleeding into his face. "but it is," his voice firmer, "i know when priorities escalate to wait for reinforcement, i lost my cool and we both...as was captain, it was my responsibility to protect you."

"we worked as a great team captain. we won."

but sweet, doting captain huffs and defaults. why is he having such a hard time brushing this off? you've had worse injuries and vice captain hiragi has never looked like this...almost ... sad.

he almost returns to his normal self, that soft gaze, eyes on your knee, "won't change the fact this happened on my watch..."

"no, the fault is actually mine, captain?" voice firm, a bit annoyed, why does he look at you like that?  "i could've been faster and better aware of my surroundings. i should've taken the first yers up on practicing."

"it's not your fault, you did your best and that's all i asked for. but--"

"if you say its your fault one more time captain, i will" you look for the most menacing object you can reach for, "throw this medicine ball at you." it's an empty threat, he'd probably dodge it easily.

he laughs, finally.  but that pit at the bottom of your stomach doesn't go away. it's been there for months. the way captain umemiya's eyes look at you... you've tried to deny it but it's different. you don't know if it's your adoration of him, the way he's completed so many successful exterminations, captured back land from the invaded monsters. he's so...different.

you shouldn't think of him like that. the way his lips are probably not the softest but against your own, maybe--

"if you push yourself too hard you'll run the risk of aggravating your knee. it'll take even longer to have you back on the field, i don't want that solider."  solider. he's putting distance between you two, isn't he? yeah, you definitely shouldn't think of him like that. 

you're genuinely sad as he removes and restocks the weight plates from the bench press. it's not fair how cute you look to umemiya, so he busies himself with cleaning up, anything to avoid looking at your face. he can play off his protective nature as looking out for the team and you, professionally. that this is for your benefit. has nothing to do with the overwhelming concern that is totally normal for a captain to have. "you gotta trust me on this one, its for your own good."

and yet, you always have your eyes on him, so keen about the tension he's holding, the way you know his eyes trail back to your bandaged knee with guilt. "captain?"

his beautiful velvet sleepy blue eyes meet yours, "hmm?"

"it's really....bothering you a lot? what happened?"

umemiya nods, hesitant to share the depths of guilt and dread he's stuffed down. seeing you fall and not get up, your teary face in the emergency medic facility... if he was strong enough, fast enough, smart enough....

your still unbalanced as you walk over ot him, the need to pull him out of his spiral stronger than remembering you're not friends nad he's your captain. don't touch him, don't speak informally. 

"i don't  blame you for this. nor does the platoon, nor HQ. and you got me outta there quick, you even yelled at a charge nurse to get me pain meds and held my hand when they moved the ligaments back into place. you were by my side the whole time, even though i know you hate hospitals. which makes you the absolute best captain, okay?  so thank you, i mean it. i'd follow you into any extermination captain umemiya."

your words of gratitude and loyalty lift some of the emotional baggage, his eyes searching yours, how do you have so much compassion, care and consideration for him? why? your willingness to stand with him after he got you hurt? 

and maybe he hasn't imagined your lingering glances, maybe the way your breath hitches when he's close isn't out of fear...maybe the way your eyes dart to his lips at the most inappropriate moments aren't in his head.  

"and you'll stay by my side, even after all this?" what is he saying, he's your captain!

your smile is that big goofy one you gave him the first day he met you, infectious. as you literally move to his side, he finds himself loosening the cage around his heart "lead the way captain!"

finally, you get to see captain umemiya's  pretty pretty grin, "oh no, that contagious smile." he chuckles.

"we're all gonna get infected! evacuate the base."  playful, silly, light.

"infect us all, hiragi deserves needs the positivity." 

you mock salute, "aye aye captain!" moving a bit too quickly and off balance. like umemiya  isn't going to point out how uneven your hips are, your gait is far more telling of the pain that your face tries to hide.  "get to bed."

"i will later, captain, promise."

"am i gonna have to throw you over my shoulder and haul your cute butt into bed?" what is he saying, why is he being so friendly.

you roll your eyes at him. HIM, your captain. oh you don't believe him do you? he starts to walk toward you. "could always carry you bridal style, make sure everyone see's me do it too. make a lesson for the whole platoon"

"i can walk back to the room just fine, captain." you are NOT blushing. maybe, it's the late hour, maybe it's all the feelings he's been hiding for weeks.

"oh i know," he's walking closer, "but i'd be doing you a disservice by not properly escorting you back to your room right? what kind of captain would i be then?"

"you don't have to carry me...holding my hand is enough." that. oh, isn't that a bit too...initiate? too close? he didn't expect you to suggest something so innocent and somehow more personal. 

ah, crap, you messed it up didn't you? the playful banter, you're not the best at reading things and your own feelings for captain umemiya have never been hidden well according to your platoon member suo. shit, you always do this, going one step too far ahead. captain umemiya is a sweet guy, talented, friendly, playful. h-

you both speak at the same time 

"sorry, i didn't--"

"sorry that...made me nervous."  he's scratching the back of his head, the tips of his ears dusty red.

huh? THE captain umemiya hajime  being nervous to hold your hand? you tilt your head in confusion. but he's...held in such high regard. shaken so many hands, held so many peoples hands... he takes out monsters for a living and somehow is nervous to...hold you hand? your brain does not understand how that is even mildly scary to him. 

umemiya watches your face, gosh you're so easy to read. he's always liked that about you. despite being a highly lauded military situation, you don't hide your confusion. "yeah, i know, the great captain umemiya hajime can exterminate a whole 20ft beast by himself but holding a cute girl's hand? scary."

what cute girl? what's he talking about? "you need, practice? i can help you practice. then you'll be ready to hold that cute girls hand." you reply so earnestly. if you can help him in anyway, you're going to do it. 

his eyes widen at your offer,  did you not catch the hint that the cute girl is you?  do you not realize, you're the only girl in the room? "you wanna practice, hand-holding?"  his tone is half bemused.

you hold your hand out, wiggling the fingers, "take it, practiceee, my hands are extra soft." what are you doing, what are you doing, be still your beating heart because clearly you've lost your god damn mind.

your hand is small as fuck compared to his, umemiya eyes the outstretched hand with consideration. he's actually going to do this, with you?  

he's held so many hands in his life, and yet none jolt through him like this. like you're plugged into a 14V battery. 

"see, nothing to be nervous about." you give his hand a light squeeze. "that cute girl is gonna be so swooning over you in no time captain!"

you're the cute girl stupid, he wants to say. totally convinced lieutenant tsubaki was right, he's going to have to spell out his feelings in a letter, email, text and phone call for you to understand. he's doesn't inject himself training plans or doctors appointments for everyone.

he's suddenly aware of the calloused palm and fingertips from years of handling assault rifles, and electric blades. your skin feels so delicate, smooth, unharmed. the way your fingers intertwine with his look pretty. 

"feels nice, yeah?"

"i guess." he squeezes. "your hands are way softer than i thought they'd be."

"of course, tsubaki told me to take care of them now, otherwise they'll be like kaji."

umemiya chuckles at that, knows exactly what you're talking about "yeah, his are as rough as sandpaper, aren't they?"

"they are captain, they are. despite all my attempts to get him to use lotion too. he rather suffer with dry hands." 

"you tired to get him to use lotin? i admire your spirit." so you are entirely reckless like hiragi told him. kaji is someone most avoid and approach with extreme caution.

"well once i knew how dry they were," you move a hand to your cheek, "gosh i can still feel his hand, it was like getting hit with a sharp rock, i thought my skin would bleed. but once i knew, i had to intervene." 

his frown is instant, his brain is stuck on the fact that at some point, kaji's hand has made contact with your face. and it was not friendly.  "your hands are kinda rough too..."

you pull his hand up, examining the rough rigids with your own delicate fingers. you keep your nails neat and short, it seems umemiya does too. you're tracing each of his fingers when he barely whispers,  "yeah...occupational hazard and all..." 

you smile up at him, "i can bring you my favorite hand cream. it shouldn't be too hard to heal these", you still trace your fingers softly over the palm of his hand, "definitely not as bad as kaji"

umemiya's heart is running a marathon, he's trying to stop the shivers running down his spine. you're looking so tenderly at his hand, in such awe and care. he should end this, he's your captain, you report up to him. and yet, he doesn't want your touch to stop. 

"yeah? think it's possible for this old things?"

"not old captain"

"fine, well seasoned," you click your tongue at that, he corrects himself with a, "aged like fine wine."

"not even seasoned."

"what? am i still in the pinnacle of my youth?"

"maybe."

"okay, then what's that make you? a toddler?"

"hey!" you push his hand back. 

"just an observation. you look like you're barely able to walk." 

you're feeling playful, "oh and somehow i was recruited by the great captain umemiya hajime for his super duepr elite extermination team. a job many have applied for an failed."

"well i know you'd be competent and reliable. maybe i have a soft spot for toddlers."

he's making you pout with that, you should be happy he's back to that normal, playful side. but you don't like being teased, you don't like how much his laughter makes your heart dance.

"what? don't like being called a toddler? how about little one or baby girl then?"

he..what? oh, maybe he doesn't know. he started his military career pretty young and all, you've never heard about him dating before you joined either, it's only natural you help and correct your captain.  "that's a team of endearment captain, call that cute girl whose hand you wanna hold that."

god you're so frustrating. umemiya could convince platoom member sugishita and sakura to form a beach vollyball duo before he gets who the cute girl is through your head. 

"i'm just teasing."

"oh, were you baby boy?" there! ha! you...you just called your CAPTAIN baby boy. abort abort abort. clearly the pain medication is on overdrive (it's not you forgot to take it) and your feelings of him are not being contained.

he chokes on air, what .....he uses your laugh as a cover while he tries to reclaim his composure, despite his own cheeks burning.

it is amusing to see him flustered.  he's almost boyish now in a way you haven't gotten to see before. it makes you want to steal this moment, keep it all for yourself.  all because of a teeny tiny baby boy remark.  oh god, is he going to say you acted out in subordination and force you on desk duty? 

but it's funny right, it was a joke right? 

you can, joke with your captain?

he runs a hand through his hair, messing up his bangs. "you're enjoying this a bit too much aren't you."

"its a rare sight, you can't blame me if i want it all for myself." can you STOP talking.

the fuck are you trying to give him a heart attack for? you can't say things like that so readily. you wanna be the only one to see him like this? flustered and embarrassed and... "well consider yourself lucky."

"oh, i am so blessed." stop, right now, you need to stop talking.

he laughs, two can play this game. he takes a step closer, bodies nearly touching, brings your hand to his chest, placing it over his heart. the thin material of his shirt does little to hide the rapid beating underneath. "feel that?"

is that...you push against his chest, is that normal? oh my god he looks red in the face too, "...captain are you...are you okay do you need water?" you know he's known to overexert himself. holy crap is he in pain?

"hmm...i think its something serious." oh shit, and you missed all the signs! you gasp in alarm, eyes looking up at him with worry he knows he was someone good and kind in his past life. to have you care for him so easily. 

he leans in close, whispering "i think you make me a little nervous."

"me?"

umemiya nods, eyes on you, bringing his free hand to rest at your him, touch firm, careful. when did he get so close? you can feel the wall behind you scrapping your elbows, when did you back into this?

"you make oh so nervous cute girl."

"captain umemiya..." his name rolls off your tongue like silk. he claims the distance between you two, body pressing against yours, one moving to wrap around your wasit, breath warm against your ear "call me hajime."

anyone can walk in. anyone can see this and..."captain umemiya hajime."

he shakes his head, "no, just my name."

the look he has is so intense, "captain hajime"

he shivers at the sound of his name dripping from your lips, voice honey sweet and soft.  "yeah, like that. just drop the captain, say it again." 

you're blushing, your captain! your crush! the one you've admired for years, here, like this, burning desire in his eyes, for you. it can't be, can it?

ever observant, umemiya picks up the nervousness, one of his hands wanders up to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb, "just a name, nothing to be nervous about."  

god, you're the cutest fucking thing. doe-eyed and blush cascading down your cheeks and neck. his eyes meet yours with "say it. my name."

umemiya inhales so sharply,  he's leaning so close to you, waiting, eager, "hajime"

trapped, happily, between the wall and his broad frame, he leans his forehead against yours, eyes closed. "again" he whispers, voice thick with need.

you swallow hard and whisper "hajime."

he leans forward, captures your lips in his, urgent, commanding, needy.

surprise hits you because if this is dream, never let it end. you've wanted him so bad and this, please let this be real. a tiny whimper before his demanding lips pull you back to this moment, back to him.  you relax into the kiss. it has him moving your against your mouth with even more intensity. has he always been this passionate about you?

umemiya presses into you harder, pushing you further against the wall, hands roaming over your body, hungry. and you're equally starved for him, pulling him in, crowding into his space. 

a hand in his messy hair, you swear he's growling, fuck, more more more. umemiya, caught in the moment, moves one hand around the back of your thigh and lifts -- you flinch and let out a gasp of pain. 

FUCK, that's your left leg right? 

umemiya breaks the kiss, "sorry, are you okay, did i make it worse?"

this man is too beautiful and you need to breathe, you push at him with no effort, he loosens his grip and moves back. "i couldn't... tell..."

"i'm so sorry, i got carried away. i didn't mean to hurt--"

"hurt for just a second, nothing...nothing serious." with smile you're dispelling all his worry, all his tension. the late hour catching up with both of you now. 

reality settling back, the fire gone. you're in the training room, door wide open.  "let me walk you back, yeah?"

he's scratching the back of his neck, doesn't want this to end but, shit, he's unsure. his position, his presence, what if it's all in his head, but your hand on his face, thumb on his lips and eyes looking up at him like that

"you'll hold my hand?" but you make no motion to move away from him, pull him back into you, lips finding his again.

yeah, it's not in his head.

[waffles-art-writing]

Platonic!Task Force 141 X Medic!FtM!Reader

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Summary: You just wanted a quiet evening to fill out paper work, but you get a surprise visit by the team. They say you’re just like your brother, Price talks to you after you stitch up the boys.

Proofread: Yes when I was half asleep :) - so not really

Pairing: Platonic! Task Force 141 x Medic! FtM!Reader

WordCount: IDK

Age Rating: 15+ preferably

Codename: Stitch

KEY: Y/N - Your Name, L/N - Last Name.

Warning/Info: swearing, light description of injury, normal COD talk, banter, yelling, pissed off reader. Reader is Trans!

Request: YES! Thank you so much!

—————————

You tap your pen on your desk as you read over numerous files, all of them stating similar words to many questions. One of the younger medics is cleaning up the medical wing while you have locked yourself away in your office, shutting the world out as you pinch the bridge of your nose. You drop the pen on the dark oak desk, grabbing the files and storming out of the office, you are reading over a particular file in hand. Written in messy chicken scratch on the patient sheet is ‘Sergeant Mactavish’ and ‘Sergeant Garrick’ . You know them both, well. Too well in fact, yet they don’t know too much about you. You’ve patched them both and the rest of the 141 far too many times for you to count.

Price recruited you for your skills with field medicine, you weren’t always a medic. You were once in communication, but your brother convinced you to become a medic when he showed you some tips and tricks. Which you ate up like a starved animal. You never knew how much this would help further your career in the military, especially after witnessing the tragedy that has left a deep wound in your heart for the rest of your life.

You rip open the curtain that conceals a bed fromt he rest of the medical ward. Your hands clutch the papers in hand, arms crossing over your chest. “What the fuck did you do?” You sneer, your voice low as you eye the two sergeants, Ghost is watching from the side, Price next to him with a small smirk. “Oh hey doc!” Soap cheers, trying to keep you from blowing a fuse. Gaz is sitting there quietly, his hand clutching the side of his arm. “The first patient file I picked up is yours, Mactavish! And you have the heart to include Garrick on this horribly written excuse of a reason as to WHY! You both have either a bullet or knife in your arms!?” You yell, your voice cracking slightly as you growl at them both. Ghost is silently thanking whatever god is out there, that he’s not the one being scolded this time round.

“And YOU!” You spit, pointing at Price and Ghost with the papers, your hold on the flimsy sheets causing them to crumple. “You left them unsupervised?! How idiotic are you guys!?” You slap the papers down on the side table, grabbing some gloves out of their box from the wall. Pulling them on, you're seething. “I’m sorry Stitch… we didn’t mean to actually get hurt…” Gaz quietly mumbles as he looks at you from the other side of the Soap. They are both seated on the edge of the medical bed, Gaz by the foot do the bed, Soap up by the head of the bed.

You grit your teeth as you turn around. You’re slightly shorter than all the men in the room, not by much, but still shorter. Price can see how much like your twin brother you are, the same concern when it comes to caring for the team, the same rage that fuels you when someone has done something idiotic. “It’s fine… No, actually it's not! It’s not fine! You’re both grown men for Christ's sake, you both gotta learn how to stop being children.” You huff out as you stand in front of Gaz, he’s the one that got clipped by the bullet on his bicep. Your touch is soft when you work on cleaning the injury. “Look Lad, we didn’t mean to-” Soap goes quiet when you stare at him out of the corner of your eye. “You have the same look as your brother…” Soap states.

They all knew your brother, he was one of the field medics that helped them in the past on a few missions and especially when they got back. They always went to him for his help, but when the chopper got shot down that he was in, they couldn’t find anyone else they could trust to come on the missions. That is until they found out he had a twin, Price knew of you, he promised to your brother to help you through everything. He was one of the main supporters to help you through your transition, even teaching you how to shave. Which was an experience and half. Many small cuts on your jaw…

“Yeah well, I am his twin after all Mactavish” You huff, gently applying gauze to Gaz’s arm and wrapping it securely in a bandage. “Thank’s” Gaz states quietly, you nod as you change the gloves to a clean pair to start working on Soap. Price is talking to them both, Ghost adding a few things here and there while you just quietly work on stitching up the Scotsman’s arm. You securely stitch up the wound, giving Gaz his knife back after cleaning it. “Now, you two gotta stop doing stupid shit.” You growl as you finish wrapping Soap’s arm. He nods his thanks as he moves his arm around a little, a small wince forming.

“Take pain meds every four hours, on the hour… You don’t want to be chasing the pain like you always do…” you sigh, cleaning up the area. They all nod their thanks, taking the pain meds from you one their way out. Price stops just shy of the door. You turn to look at him, you notice he's staring at you. “Price?” Your voice is quiet, you feel like there's something on your face.

Price walks over, his hand coming up to your jaw. He’s noticed something, definitely. “Be more careful with that razor kid. Don’t wanna slice your neck open next time…” he sighs, his thumb running over the irritated wound on the underside of your jaw. How the hell did he notice that? You don’t have a clue, other than he just knows. “Yeah, I know… one of the rookies slammed open the bathroom door so I got spooked is all…” you chuckles lightly, shrugging as Price just smiles, shaking his head lightly. “You’ve done good kid… your brother would be proud.” He states, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently.

“Thanks… He would be happy to know I can still put the boys in their place even as a guy.” You laugh, Price chuckles along with you, he turns to leave. “You know where to find me if you need something, kid, see you at the debrief tomorrow at O-Six-Hundred.” He says over his shoulder, leaving you with a wave. You nod as you turn to walk back to your office, your hand subconsciously coming up to touch the small cut. You’re happy you have Price there for you, the team doesn’t seem to mind at all about your transition, if they even know anything about it that is.

Overall, working for the 141 has its highs and lows, but you still love them even if they drive you up the walls mad.

[alchemicalterror]

Doc, we've gotta know, who TAKES all these photos on your blog?

Well, that actually varies quite a bit, depending.

At home or at the lab or office, I often just chatter away at a camcorder I got up on a tripod, and I'll pull either still images or some video off it which I think turned out all right alongside a transcript of what all I was on about at the time.

I scrub Arkham's security feed, any time you see me in the halls - it's easier than they think it is and much easier than they'd like it to be and I don't see that changing anytime soon, and I know where all those cameras are, so I'll do much the same - just pick one, and talk to it.

Every so often, Langstrom, one of the girls, or some other friend will help me set up a shot if I'm doin' something that has need for a particular image, like when I did that fashion show a few days back. Had to set up a film camera with a timer when I got back to my place for the last handful, but I generally recruit help when I need it from folks I know.

Lastly, and most recently,

Ghoul and a nameless accomplice of his have taken to snapping especially flattering Polaroids of me to distribute at one of Gotham's local malls to a number of the City's more gossipy middle-aged house-wives in what I understand to be something of an illicit underground hustle for a fanbase I was previously unaware I had. Not cheaply, either. Which is, truth be told, downright charming news to be privy to, apparently I'm very popular.

I'm tempted to sign a handful of the next batch, up demand and therefore pricing for the signature in question - the kids do give me my cut, after all. I'll have to talk to them - outright acknowledging the attention may inadvertently quash some of the surreptitious allure; I trust my PR managers' take on the whole salacious affair.

If you see any photos on the blog that have suspiciously fetching lighting or composition, however, y'all can thank Ghoul and his friend, gal has a keen eye for making sure I'm standing in the best light possible.

[ero-heart]

Deimos x reader but reader is an agent from some agency called Los Muertos that are in Mexico and they hunt down criminals but only does that escaped from mexico.

So deimos find his recruiter being brutally murdered by you as you done your mission and walk away but deimos grabs and tries to stop you and your like "señor déjeme ir no tengo tiempo para esto" or "señor por favor déjeme ir" and deimos doesn't let go so you just drag him with you.

(I'm not good with Spanish)

Reader is basically hank but if they were an agent

This took so long to make I had no idea how this could be done,, I am sorry if it’s not of your expectations!

Cw: violence, some gore, guns and cigarettes

GOTCHA!

(Deimos x Los Muertos Agency Reader)

(Platonic/Romantic) (mostly platonic)

“Haha! Nice! Now all we gotta do is-“

Deimos stared at his coworker’s lifeless body beside him, steam dancing from the hole on his neck from a bullet, definitely work of a silent firearm, given that no sound could be heard on the half second that he looked away from the recruit. Deimos frustratingly threw his equipment on the ground and cursed, he had fucked up. He couldn’t guide the newbie if he was *dead*. What will Doc say this time? He couldn’t get away with this forever, but no matter how much he made sure the coast was clear something ALWAYS happened to stack up the death count of newbies under Deimos’s watch. He looked around the roof to see if he could find the perpetrador, the coast was clear, he directed his gaze to the other buildings around him. What he found was a thin veil of smoke coming from behind the entrance hatch of another rooftop, lightly blown by the wind.

“Pff there you are..”

Deimos was keen on avenging himself for being screwed like this, uh? Yea his coworker too. Stalking behind a wall, Deimos had to come up with a way to get to the other building without being noticed and as quick as possible, before the stranger dashed off somewhere else. Noticing a very convenient bridge made of wood planks leading to his wished destination.

You had taken a smoking break after a long day of hunting and eliminating. It had taken three days to arrive at this corrupted town to finish your target, a fugitive that had heavily screwed your agency by leaking important data to the enemy, apparently he was on the midst of integrating on another group, well too bad, Los Muertos never left debts unpaid. You we’re tired, just the thought of sitting on the subway for three more days was exhausting and you were considering renting a motel room to spend the night, there should be one around the block actually if your memory is correct. Dropping the butt of the cigarette to the ground, you were ready to leave when you heard the cock of a gun, looking to your side, you were met with the muzzle of a ar-15. You sighed, looking at the other problem you had to deal with. Baggy clothes, slicked back hair covered with bandages and a cap, patchy beard growing along his face, this man was unkempt. He had a mustache growing from the corners of his mouth, reminded you of some of your coworkers. The stranger glared at you, not loosening his grip on the firearm.

“There you are you- you newbie killer!”

Deimos was definitely stressed, not having his cigarette break yet and it was starting to get to him. His target looked unsurprised by his presence, keeping perfect posture as they turned to face him. They reminded Deimos of AAHW agents, suit, tie, and all, only difference was the colorful embroidery on the dark suit of mythological sanguinary creatures, along with a detailed face paint resemblant of a skull, they also wore a fedora, shading most of their face features. The mysterious person looks Deimos up and down before speaking:

“Escucha no tengo tiempo para esto, amigo. Baja el arma.”

Deimos understood nothing the stranger said, staring at them confusedly while trying to decipher what those words could have meant.

“What?”

You realized that this man might have nothing in terms of knowledge about your language, which is bad because you knew barely nothing about his language as well. You both were unprepared for a situation like this. You couldn’t have expected for him to pull the trigger due to your lack of an answer, chuckling upon realizing that it had no bullets.

Deimos frustratingly threw the gun to the ground in a fit, cursing and grabbing on his hair. The stranger just laughed at him more before they started walking towards the exit.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Where do you think you’re going? I ain’t done with you yet!”

Deimos jumped and wrapped his arms around their neck, making both fall onto the floor. The stranger tried their best to wrestle their way out of it but Deimos kept persistent. Sitting on their back, he pushed their shoulders to the ground with as much force he could master, he panted heavily, the amount of activity taking a toll on his lungs.

You felt yourself get anxious, normally you would stay calm in a situation like this but the lack of nicotine was making your hands tremble. You moved them towards your pant pocket, barely pulling the cigarettes out before the man slammed your shoulders harder onto the concrete.

“You stay there!”

“¿Ni siquiera puedo fumar en paz? Perro apestoso..”

You tried to take the cigarettes again as the man noticed what you were reaching for, he suddenly got quiet and did nothing as you, with some difficulty, opened the box and picked one stick with your mouth. You managed to grab the lighter from the same pocket, flicking it as the man spoke:

“Uhh.. are those cigarettes?”

You ignored him as you took a drag of the drug.

“Hey uhm, I can.. uh.. If you give me one of those I may let you live!”

Seeing you ignored him again, he just grabbed your own cigarette from your mouth, loosening his pressure on you as he put it between his own lips. You watched as he breathed the smoke in, then out. Mostly confused (yet relieved) that apparently this guy just needed a cigar to get off of your back, looking up at him looking at the distance, to the bright city that illuminated the two of you, he grumbled something you couldn’t understand, you just knew that there were some swear words sprinkled here and there. He still did not get off of you, you were stuck with this weirdo while he got on his smoke break.

“¿…Puedes darme un..?”

Might as well continue your smoke break along with the man.

I hope this was enjoyable lol I am not really satisfied with my writing but nothing practice can fix it! Hope everyone if safe and sound 🩷

[sonosvegliato]

Do you have an idea of when the third installment of To and Athlete Dying Young will be released? I need to know what day I need to put on my calendar because I've reread the second fic so many times and still each time I reread it it makes me feel sick to my stomach in the best way possible, but this is the first time I've actively sought out your Tumblr to learn more about your fics and you and I'm so excited for the third installment I've constantly been stimming for the past three hours ;o;

Ahahahahahaaaaaaaaa I am no longer hands deep into it I am full body in the cement. I am descending through the earth's crust. I am doing research on paintball for you. Please be safe when keeping with the Topeka potato tradition, the midwest is a scary place and sometimes we get dumped there for thanksgiving because our not-dad's butler says you gotta get outta the house but the himbo you recruited as your manservant won't let you plot revenge while he's still got the chickens to feed and your dumb not-brother has betrayed you by setting the human papershredder on you in the middle of a Steak and Shake like the utter audacity---

This will all make sense in approximately a few months. I've rewritten this thing so many times it has its own Google doc. Its own. I've written every fanfiction I've ever written for every fandom on one gigantic Google Doc but early though the laurel grows gets its own google doc because it thinks it's a special baby that deserves 209 pages of which 170 of them are me throwing them into the virtual incinerator and laughing at the confetti that comes out.

I'm so honored you looked for more on my Tumblr! I don't use it too much except to reblog fic rec lists, but occasionally I'll put some deleted scenes up that I know won't be used...maybe I'll start posting some of the 170 pages I chewed up and spat out and made into the Mona Lisa because I am LEONARDO DA VINCI over here dawg

I am continually working on early though the laurel grows, the last installment of To an Athlete Dying Young, but she is looking to be a hefty girl in more ways than one and as I am ripping apart her insides with my bare teeth and rearranging her within my jaws I don't want to start posting chapters when it's likely they'll change.

I'm so honored people are waiting for this? I've been writing To an Athlete Dying Young pretty much nonstop for over a year now, and I only want to share the best with you! Unfortunately I don't have a calendar date, but the work is moving and moving very fast. I'll give more updates (and more deleted scenes, there are a LOT) as I get closer to the finish!

A deleted scene dialogue as a treat:

“You’re remarkably clear-headed about this,” Bullock says, almost appreciatively.

“Well,” Tim remarks, knocking his temple with his knuckles. “Helps that it’s attached.”

Bullock’s mouth pulls. It’s gone as soon as Tim notices it. “Do you know of any reason someone might have a grudge against your guardian Bruce Wayne?” 

Besides the fact that he runs around as Gotham’s number one fearmonger and some criminals run just at the mention of him? Besides the fact that his son/current enemy number one came undead and now has some sort of blood vendetta against him? Besides the fact that Bruce Wayne is the Batman, and vice versa?

“Beats me,” Tim says.

[ronearoundblindly]

The Stark Legacy (19)

Delight, part of Book II: Mind (see previous or series)

Summary: The compound deals with everyday challenges alongside holiday struggles.

Warnings for canon-level language and discussion of drugs and abuse. Rated Teen, 15+ ONLY, please.

CHAPTER NINETEEN—December 2038

“Ok, guys,” Peter Parker started energetically, “I gotta get back to decorate the tree tonight, so here’s what I got so far.”

“Go ahead,” Steve allowed.

“Bad batch of drugs is killing kidnapped homeless people, and now some of the same drug has been interspersed in huge illegal shipments around the world,” Peter rambled.

“Why didn’t we catch this earlier?” Bucky was given exactly the time it took to walk from the quinjet to the conference room to settle in. After yesterday’s all-nighter and a long flight, he was in a sharp mood.

“I found out when I ran into two kids who were experimented on,” Peter said.

“Romanoff and Thor got very little out of the drug’s creator,” Steve added. “We’ve had this professor in custody for a while,” he continued, sliding a file over to Bucky, “and he’s a full-blown nut job, with too many connections. It’s been a joke trying to track all the crime this guy might be involved in.”

“Seriously,” Bucky mumbled, “I’ve been sunning myself instead of helping with this?”

“Buck, we’ve got dozens of agents,” Steve snapped. He had rested no better than his friend. “T’Challa needed you more than us.”

Bucky scanned the file. “You have to be joking. D-Lite?”

“Yup.” Peter checked his watch.

“That sounds like an off-brand soda.”

Steve sighed in frustration. “Parker has two informants, Tandy and Tyrone, was it? They told us where the experiments took place, past tense, and now we are trying to help them control…whatever it was that triggered in them by this heroin substitute.”

“Whoever it doesn’t change, it kills flat out.” Peter’s face sank, remembering the stories he’d heard from his young recruits. “And it gets a little weirder because the survivors said that Professor Marshall was helped by a demon.”

“What the hell—”

“Yup. Basically. Named despair, at least that’s what Marshall called him, it, whatever.” Peter looked at his watch again and punched in something on the table’s comms. “And that’s it for me, so Natasha can go from here. Bye.” He bolted to the door, yelling a “Merry Christmas” to everyone on his path out. 

Steve leaned over. “He told me earlier that Christmas is the only time his teenager isn’t a ‘total douche,’ his words, so he’s a bit excited to go home.”

Nat’s face popped up in familiar blue. 

“Boys, I’m sending you new info that we’ve gathered, but,” Nat paused, “this is a mess. Only a fraction of these shipments have been tampered with, and there is no way to test all of it. We’ve got to destroy everything we find. You can imagine how many friends we’ve made.”

“And the other doctor affiliated with Marshall?” Steve sorted a few windows on his tablet.

“Clint was tracking Dorcas until the trail went cold. It’s like he actually disappeared into the ocean. We asked King Namor to keep a guard up just in case. The Sub-Mariner said he’d heard a legend of D’Spayre,” Nat cleared her throat, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but according to Atlantian lore, the demon D’Spayre was created from the fear their ancestors experienced when the whole kingdom sunk into the ocean. Hell of a bedtime story.”

“Well, the devil attacked us last year, so…” Bucky was going to need some time to absorb all this, line the players up on the field in his mind. “Alright, let’s get more details from Clint. Fresh eyes can’t hurt.”

“He’s states-side now,” Nat clarified.

Bucky looked at Steve. His friend shrugged. “And Sharon is waiting for me at the house,” Steve said, tentatively, “her rule when I came back. Home for the holidays unless…you know, disaster.”

“Guess it’s just me, Doc, and Wilson,” Bucky grumbled. “When does Stark get back?”

Nat pursed her holographic lips. “Gamora and Rocket send us subspace messages, but Tony’s been out of range for weeks. There’s a whole other problem…I’ll have to…we don’t know much, so I’d like us to wait for Stark to brief us. We’ve got enough to handle now.”

“Fine,” Steve allowed again, “keep us posted.” Nat’s form vanished.

Bucky leaned farther back in the conference room chair, sorting through what he’d just heard and known for a while.

“I think I liked being lower on the totem pole,” he said tightly. “There was a lot less to worry about. Go here, kill this guy. Go there, one more. Chill out and do nothing for a few months—”

“Buck,” his oldest friend interrupted, leaning forward with hands intertwined, “maybe you shouldn’t joyfully reminisce about single kills, yeah?”

Bucky swallowed inside his clenched jaw.

“For right now, I need you and Sam to work together,” Steve continued.

“She’s in Wakanda,” he replied quickly.

“Actually, both of them. Big Sam seems to respond well to Lil’Sam, and I think she can help him focus during training.”

“I should have just brought her with me,” Bucky mumbled.

Steve sat up. “Wait. So who…”

It only occurred to Bucky as Steve trailed off. No one had invited Samantha home. No one had even thought to do so just in case. All the pieces moved on the chess board and swiveled right past her. Her only remaining family was zipping through space somewhere. Clint hadn’t known he’d be back until the last minute. Natasha was flying around constantly. Bruce—

As if summoned by the thought, Banner pressed the door open with his back and looked up from his tablet. “Hey, gang, can we talk about Sam?” Bruce looked up over his glasses, unaware of his timeliness.

Steve’s expression said it all. “Shit.”

Samuel Wilson shoveled food into his mouth as if he were starving. A few people wandered in and out of the kitchen while Bucky looked on, mortified.

“You’re gonna get sick, buddy,” Bucky said as if he too would be sick.

“I’m in training, man. I lost so much muscle mass—it’s a bitch to put back on.” Sam gulped from the huge water bottle he carried everywhere.

“Glad to see your mood improved after sleep.”

“Bite me,” Falcon coughed between fork-fulls.

He ignored that rousing invitation. “You seemed to respond well to Samantha,” Bucky started.

“Lil’ Sam,” the hungry, hungry hippo corrected.

 “—so I thought she could help us out the next few flights. What do you think?”

“Whatever.” Sam continued to eat. Bruce had warned Bucky not to expect much real interaction from Wilson. After waking up, the onslaught of high brain activity had plateaued, and his personality was still recovering, if it was coming back at all. Wilson’s moods still jumped around, and his focus was erratic. Bruce had suggested trying some unconventional, new methods of acclimating Falcon back into the team. This was as good of an idea as any other.

To Bucky’s surprise, Samantha jumped at the chance to help, and he could she her projection sitting on the disc in the yard as he and Falcon approached. He was even more surprised when Little Sam took the reins right away.

“Tell you what, Big Sam,” she started, smiling, an odd thing to see for the first time on a projection. It seemed foreign somehow. “You beat me at cards, and you can skip flying today. Deal?”

Wilson perked up immediately. He stood straighter. He smirked. He bounced in his step, what he’d several times described to Bucky as ‘swagger.’ “You’re on. That’s what I’m talking about. See?” He glared at Bucky, “not everything has to be serious.”

Samantha dealt cards onto her platform, scooting off to lean only her face and arms into the projection, and Falcon took off his flight pack and curled up in front of the circle like a kid with a new toy. Bucky watched for a few minutes. Wilson stayed excited, fun, sarcastic, and competitive, but even when Samantha had a good hand that beat his, Wilson playful congratulated her. He never got cranky; he never snapped at her. Bucky left them outside, keeping a watchful eye from just inside the building. He couldn’t tell who was winning the entire time because they both seemed so genuinely excited for each other. The two Sams clearly joked and chided each other, talked animatedly, and finally, both threw up their hands in shock.

Samantha did a small victory dance while Wilson pressed his comm. “Alright, Barnes, it’s flight time. Fair and square.”

The whole practice was derailed by Samantha’s intermittent challenges for Falcon to fly in a certain way or pattern, once was hands flat by his sides like Iron Man launching, another was a figure eight, but Bucky didn’t mind as soon as he figured out what she was doing. He never caught her eye to confirm, but Samantha deliberately asked Wilson questions during flight, rehashed old memories, and left small details for Wilson to correct. Bucky suspected she was testing him, yet Wilson became his old self for the first time in half a year.

Sixty minutes became ninety. Ninety minutes became three hours, and still, Falcon flew strong. He’d successfully flown by a neural link alone twice without noticing because Samantha suggested he show off his dance moves. After a particularly fluid, in-flight Bruno Mars impression, Bucky clapped for Falcon’s achievement, assuming Samantha was equally impressed. When he turned to look, however, she wasn’t on the platform anymore. He could only see a combat boot on its side at the circle's edge.

“Sam,” he called, “did you trip?”

The foot did not move.

“Samantha,” Bucky tried with more urgency, “are you okay? Say something. We can’t see you.”

There was a quiet moan, and the foot dragged off out of view. “Ow…”

“Seriously, are you alright?”

“Lil’ Sam, come on. What’s up?” Wilson sauntered up. “You still got two left feet?” Bucky could hear the calm tone, but Wilson’s face showed only concern. They stood looking into thin air, helpless, unable to even reach out a hand.

Finally, a hand stuck itself into their view and gave a shaky thumbs up. A strained chuckle vibrated through the speakers. “I—I—just I need to eat is all.” Her voice was too quiet.

“What the hell? How long has it been since you ate?” Bucky put his hand to his forehead, demanding, “go into my place and eat something. You fainted.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll go lie down too.”

“I’ll send someone to check on you,” Bucky added.

“No,” Samantha said, leaning into the circle, her face stern, “I’m not built like you guys. I’ll just rest and see you tomorrow.” She switched off the platform from Wakanda.

“What’s wrong with Lil’ Sam?” Wilson stopped immediately in front of Bucky, so close Bucky could feel his breath. “Is she sick? Why didn’t she come home? She should be here.” The anger rose quickly in his voice.

Bucky raised his arms defensively without touching Sam. “Honestly, I don’t know. I wasn’t told to bring her back, and—” He stopped, himself a little hurt by the reality. “No one…” Wanted her home? That was a cruel way to put what seemed like a simple oversight. Asked her home? Did a Stark actually need to be asked to do anything? She could feasibly do whatever the hell she wanted, and did from what he saw. Remembered her? Bucky had to admit that he repeatedly forgot about Sam until he found a use for her today. “You’ll see her tomorrow, Sam. I’ll make sure of it. She’s fine. I’m looking after her.”

Falcon stormed off, knocking him against the shoulder hard as he passed. “You better,” he hissed and mumbled about food on his way inside. The quick turn of his friend’s dark mood shocked Bucky. They’d been doing so well.

Bucky thought back to years ago when Wilson had been so ashamed of falling out of touch with Samantha. How close had they really been? He flicked back through the recording of their card game. 

“—I definitely taught you how to bluff better than that—”

“—when you trained me to beat Nate with that trick shot before his basketball tryouts? He was pissed for weeks—I studied all the birds around the farm. I was gonna tell you all about them on your next visit—”

“—I should have taught you a good punch for those kids who called you that—”

It reminded Bucky of all the fellow soldiers at Lehigh who took over parenting him after his father’s accident. He had pieces of friendship and advice from everyone, but he remembered how sometimes the niceties only made him feel his loss more deeply. No single person could replace his father, and the more and more support he got, the more alone he felt when no one was around. His own father had died though; how did Sam feel knowing her father was still alive but took no part in raising her?

Bucky had always understood Stark’s perspective, perhaps because he felt so deeply responsible for how Tony became the man he was. Tony lost his parents to violent, evil forces, and after a period of burying his head in a bottle, he worked constantly to stop that from happening to anyone else. It was a full-time, all-time, forever job that only grew bigger and more complicated as the years went on. Now Earth needed two super soldiers, demigods, aliens, lab accidents, young drug-created recruits, and a veritable army of Inhumans running whole departments in every region just to keep evil at bay. Giving up on that to raise just one child alone, without her mother, the love of his own life, was such a foreign skill set, why wouldn’t he have outsourced it? 

After all the pain he put those he assassinated through, Bucky would never choose to be tortured by reliving what he’d done to their families. He would admit it, go through it for their benefit if he must, but if he didn’t have to, he would hide in a shitty apartment in Romania. Which is exactly what he did once. So Bucky had never blamed Tony for living separately from his daughter. Bucky shoved his head in the sand, hoping the world would heal and move forward without him; Tony dove head-first into protecting the whole world and hoped his daughter would be safer for it.

She was safer, in a way, but Samantha wasn’t really Tony’s kid anymore. She wasn’t really anyone’s kid entirely, and even though the responsibility had been spread thin over a dozen or so people over the years, no one, in particular, claimed her. Big Sam and Little Sam had obviously started a friendship that looked like family, but it died somewhere over the last decade. Bucky stood mesmerized by the ease at which the Sams picked up interacting with each other; he’d never seen Samantha so comfortable, friendly even. It was a little unnerving, like watching a stage performance before the curtain closed.

The footage paused when a message from Samantha popped up on his tablet. “Big Sam counts cards without knowing it. Can be distracted from doing it, but is capable of complex cognitive tasks he could not previously do. Tell Bruce.”

So, she really was testing him. Smart girl.

[Chapter 20: Nourish]

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 3/14/2023

So. The fanfic.

Man, when I started writing fanfic, I would just think up a story and write it, no plan, only write. It was fun. I think most people write fanfic this way. Anyway, I don't know if my brain broke, or if I just used up all my good material, or what, but the more fanfic I wrote, the more work it takes. I am now a regular outliner, even though I hate it. Anyway, I have reached a new level of Using Things I Learned in English class, in the sense that I think I'm going to actually make a second (third?) draft.

I hate this for me.

Anyway, the upshot is that I've got, like, 90% of the scenes written. There are still 4 that need endings (including the final one), and I think I might need a few more scenes, but I'm not sure exactly what they should be. I have some notes for what they might be. I realized while writing this that the penultimate scene/chapter of a fanfic is often the most important one, and I'm not happy with the one I have, so I gotta figure that out.

In any case, though, the problem I have at the moment is that, partially as a consequence of writing this thing one sentence at a time, is that it's not necessarily coherent. The first thing I need to do is actually read it, top to bottom. Some of the scenes need to get moved around chronologically (I knew this when I wrote them). I need to figure out if this thing has any sort of trajectory or arc to it. If I can do that, I think it will help me figure out what scenes I still need, and how to end the ones I need to end. I am mildly embarrassed, but I think I am going to start yet another doc for this, but maybe if I call it a "draft", it won't be so bad.

I feel like once I get to the other side of this process, I'll have the end in sight and I'll feel a lot better about this thing, but it's very intimidating at the moment. Among the worst writing feelings I have is "there is something wrong with this story and I don't know how to fix it" and I know I have to pass through that valley.

Weekly numbers: Current word count is 15,457 (which includes a few hundred trash words). I guess I didn't write down my exact word count last week, but that somewhere on the order of +2000-2400. I guess that also includes some that were pasted over from the original doc. It doesn't really matter, a lot of those words were hard fought, and I feel okay about the amount of effort I put in this week, especially considering I had other stuff going on. I also wrote 500 words on the spicy fanfic.

I said I was going to draw this week and I didn't do a lot, but I did do a couple of Mike Mignola skull studies. Little P said these were "some cool skulls, Mom", which was nice, since she hated my Menos ("I don't like the hands. I don't like the witch nose. I don't like them.") Anyway, a lot of improvement between sketch 1 and sketch 2 and I finally found an excuse to use my "photocopy error" brushes. Gonna try to do a few more of these, maybe even see if I can manage to do an actual drawing in this style.

Hrrrnnnngggh, did I promise you a preview this week? This would be easier if I had already read the fanfic, the thing I have been dreading.

UGH, brb.

Okay, I'm back, I found one that'll do. If you missed it last week, this story is about the time Rukia and Renji spent at the District 70 Consolidated Shinigami Recruitment Station, trying to get pre-approval to travel north and take the Shin'ou Entrance Exams. The title is either going to be Go Places or Stay with Me, Go Places, I haven't decided yet. Either way, it's after the New Pornographers song that I listened to incessantly while writing this.

They have each been given a set of practice clothing-- sturdy cotton kimonos and hakama. Even though she’s wearing the smallest set Mr. Mochida had, Rukia’s hakama are pulled up under her armpits and still drag on the ground. This is somewhat humiliating.

Renji, on the other hand, looks perfect in his, like whoever invented hakama did so with him in mind. Furthermore, he’s holding an actual wooden practice sword like he died with one in his hands. Renji has been habitually picking up sticks and swinging them around the entire time she’s known him. It is obvious to Rukia that he belongs here, that he was meant for this. His face looks like all his dreams have finally come true.

Mr. Mochida holds his own sword expertly and calmly. “Go ahead,” he says, patiently. 

Renji runs at him swinging.

Mr. Mochida blocks the blow, pushing Renji off to one side. He shakes out his sword arm. “Good. Again.”

Renji has no skill at swords, but he has a lot of enthusiasm, and he has a lot of strength. Mr. Mochida doesn’t seem to have even broken a sweat by the time Renji is panting and exhausted, but he claps her friend on the shoulder and tells him he has a lot of talent.

Don’t tell him that! Rukia wants to scream. He’ll be unbearable!

“You’re next, Miss Rukia.”

Renji comes to take her place on the sidelines as Rukia takes up her own sword. It’s puny compared to the one Renji carries, and it’s still too long for her.

“You can do it,” he tells her. “You just have to push part of yourself into the sword, make it stronger.”

She nods, as if that makes any damn sense.

Rukia tries to imitate Mr. Mochida’s stance, knees slightly bent. She contemplates the weapon in her hands. It’s not a rock or a shard of glass or even a shiv. It’s just for practice, but it’s the size and shape of a weapon and you can certainly hurt someone with it. You and me, Rukia thinks at the sword. We can do some damage, you and me.

Push part of yourself into the sword. Maybe that’s not such nonsense after all.

She charges.

[jb-nonsense]

2, 12, 12, 16 for Solvi Itera!

If your OC was an NPC

2. Would they be a class specific character? (ie. Imperial Agent only. Republic character only)

I'd say with her background and service history, she'd best fit the Trooper storyline, but I think she'd be an interesting addition to the Jedi Knight storyline with her Mandalorian heritage so we'll say she's knight specific but she can be recruited along with Jorgan in KOTFE because I can see her going and volunteering for that kind of mission. (And no, I'm not saying that because they get married in my core setting, I can just see her wanting to fight Zakuul hard.)

12. Are they better as a tank, healer or DPS?

Tank. Tank tank tank. In the class story, she'd be a ranged tank with a blaster rifle whereas in KOTFE and on, she'd be built more like a powertech with a flamethrower and up close and personal with a blaster pistol.

13. What gifts do they Love? Like? What would they say when you gave them a gift?

Loves weapons, favorites are military gear and trophy. For stuff she loves "Ori'jate! I can use this!" and stuff she favors "hey, don't make me get sappy."

16. What’s their idle chatter like? Do they talk a lot (when you arrive on each planet) or do they suddenly say something in some strange places?

Since I imagine you'd pick her up on Tatooine, since she served there before joining Havoc in her core canon, she would make comments there about each region. I won't go into different regions on planets, but landing on planets after Tatooine

Alderaan: "Everyone on this planet walks around like they got a stick up their shebs. Makes me think of my grandparents."

Balmorra: "Gotta have respect for the Balmorran people. They kept fighting when we stopped."

(bonus for you. Her reaction when Doc flirts with the knight. "You think he's as good as he talks? Wanna make a bet on it?")

Quesh: "Nothin' like taking a stroll on a poisonous planet."

Hoth: "Heard a lot of stories about the battles that happened here. Bet it would make for a great speeder race track once we're done."

Belsavis: "Wouldn't mind doin' a bit of target practice if any of these scum try to cross us. What d'ya say, Jedi? Want to make a competition of it?"

Voss: "Ugh, shops, restaurants...If I wanted civilization, I would've stayed on Coruscant. Can we get out to the action soon, Jedi?"

Corellia: "I had a girlfriend from Corellia once. She'd always cheat playin' Sabaac."

[askmadcomcrew]

Sanford, Deimos, Doc, Hank. Thoughts on the Sheriff and MERC?

Sanford: Eh, he's kind of a bonehead. Wouldn't bother listenin' to us when we just wanted to ask him to use the transit network. MERC themselves are fine, usually. Lotta the food they make gets imported to other places.

Deimos: He must have a serious case of paranoia or somethin', 'cuz he immediately assumed we were there to kill him. Dude's gotta have a lot of enemies. MERC is too damn volatile, those guys were way too eager to start shooting when we showed up.

Hank: The Sheriff is a pathetic coward, and his faction is a joke. No amount of armor can hide the fact that he's scared, if anything, the armor just proves it.

Doc: The Sheriff is an...Interesting person, to say the least. Very cynical and not very true to himself. Went from being a lowly mattress salesman to the head of one of Nevada's more notable factions. It's quite a story if you take the time to do the research. There was a time I considered recruiting him to our cause, but his track record of betrayal and running away when things get serious turned me off of it.

[sweetswesf]

Check In

What I Did Today

Took a recruiter call

Chatted with a friend who wants to help me get hired

Connected with another former Apprentice who was also laid off

Worked out

FINALLY DID 1 ALGO!! It only took damn there 2 weeks!!!

Concluded a DECADE long "friendship" with probably my 1st love

Cut it off with that dude I met on Hinge because he was on a dating app looking for friends *EYE ROLL*

Called my grandmother to thank her for the Thanksgiving Day card she gave me

What I Learned Today

I procrastinate A LOT...

I ACTUALLY want to learn this all this stuff I have mapped out

Feeling

Productive, and a little proud, but also a little ashamed of how long it took me to get started...I know I can do better

It may take at least 6 months to be where I want to be...is that too long? Am I being too liberal?

A bit anxious when I realize what the REAL timeline is

I don't have major headaches these days, but there's always a little something I feel in my head every day ever since my major headache last week...I'm a bit nervous that working out is not great for me right now, but I feel heavier than I usually am and need the physical exercise...gains can wait, but I don't know if I should pay more attention to these sensations...they're not super distracting, I am just hyper aware given that I had a head injury this year...next doc appt is next week, but they always reject my request for an MRI or CT scan...I have done some research online and SOME say working out is good for it...gets the blood going, reduces the stress, but only after some initial rest...but I haven't had an injury recently so IDK...pray for me please :) my balance is okay, coordination is okay, strength is okay, no vomiting or diarrhea anymore...idk what's up...

Takeaways

I needed a guilt free 2 week break after being laid off...and I did not afford myself that, but I tried my best

I am so stressed BECAUSE I procrastinate when I think I'm already so far behind or try to discourage myself with, "do I REALLY have to learn these concepts?!," when I know I DO...

I don't have to master it all...I need to take it slow, forgive myself when I'm not operating at my best, and not put so much pressure on myself

I GOTTA get off of toxic ass TWITTER and stop watching so much YOUTUBE!!! I don't even be really entertained...just numb...and all the surprise porn or fights on Twitter is REALLY not the distraction I need right now

I get invites to things, and I'm going to take them...because I'm single af, I don't have A TON of close friends, and I need to be social

I'm healing...I didn't even get totally sad or cry when I told my grandmother I couldn't afford to come home for the holidays...I feel like I COULD pay for the flight...I just kind of don't want to anymore since I always pay to go out solo; I am also just so sad that they never want to help me with the flight, even after I claimed I couldn't afford...maybe they know I'm BS'ing, or maybe they don't care to see me that much for them to pay the ~$100 roundtrip

I could be so confident, so fit, so wealthy, so strong, if I gave up all the things not serving me...

How I Got Myself Out of a Rut Today

Prayer

Allowing myself to watch just one more episode of British Bakeoff before getting started

Telling myself that I did not have to do it all today

Ordering takeout so that it was one less thing I had to stress about

Exercising a little discipline

Putting all my unwatched YouTube videos in a playlist...sounds strange, yes, but the way my brain works is if I know I have videos unwatched but not organized, I will feel like they are an uncompleted task and my mind will distract me to tell me "DO THIS FIRST!" since the effort to complete them is small

Encouraging myself with "You can do it," and, "be 'That Girl'!"

Goals After Today

Not listen to people worried about their own circumstances and remember God works on his own time and I am in no rush...

Strengthen my relationship with God

Understand the main concepts I need to from Interview Cake, AlgoExpert, etc. in less 3 months

Drop my body fat percentage

Use social media/YouTube less

Improve my relationship with my family

Be more confident & faithful

Move more during my day

DRINK MORE WATER!

Get back on the ball

Be kinder to myself and stop guilting myself if my energy isn't always on 100%

Go on a date with a guy I actually like who actually likes me too

Find a therapist

Figure out what keeps making me sick...

[meadowmines]

RGG Tactics Main Story Ch. 4 WIP

This is the part where Kei-chan's friend(?) Tomita aka b0ngl0rd69 truly joins the party. He actually joins in late Ch. 3 as an autonomous guest, shortly after you rescue him from being steamrolled by a bunch of color gang goons because he ran all his zappy/burny/freezy gizmos' batteries flat. You find out in short order that a) he is a huge fucking nerd, b) he is already a card-carrying member of the Sotenbori Civic Association, and c) he is on probation with the Civic Association Board of Directors and is in imminent danger of being demoted from his position as a squad captain because he keeps doing stupid shit like, say, waving a half-Airsoft half-live steel gunblade around in broad daylight in front of God and everyone.

When he first joins the party you can command him in tactical battles, but he'll do whatever the fuck he wants--run right into the middle of enemy formations like an idiot, hurt allies swinging his stupid gunblade around, waste his MP on trash mobs to show off, you name it. Even worse, he INSISTS on working under his Godawful game handle and very loudly clears his throat any time anyone calls him by his actual name. You are at one point treated to a lovely cutscene of Tomita standing at attention, whimpering and quivering while Kuroshi, with all his usual decorum and restraint and the Customer Service Smile from Hell, verbally rips him an alarming number of new orifices, follows through on that threat of demotion, and then reassigns him to Aoyagi's squad (his reasoning being that Kei-chan recruited him and now the menace is his problem). And this works, he'll do what he's told in battle for a while, but Aoyagi knows it's not sustainable.

And then... someone says something that gives him the idea to drag Tomita over to Kei-chan's game store, plop him down in front of an old Mega Drive, and plug Shining Force into it. Aoyagi waxes nostalgic about playing the hell out of Shining Force back in the day, and he starts up an early-game save and sends a mage right into the middle of an enemy formation to punch bads in the nose. Watching this makes Tomita realize he's kinda been acting like a tool! Hooray! But there are still a few things to work out...

Tomita: So. I can, um. I can still use my gunblade. Right? That's... still cool, right?

Aoyagi: This really the hill you wanna die on, Tomita?

Tomita: *AHEM*

Aoyagi, without missing a beat, exact same tone: These really the two hills you wanna die on, Tomita?

Tomita: How about this... you can call me Tomita if I can keep using my gunblade.

Aoyagi: .............deal.

Tomita: yessss

Aoyagi: Now go build ya some maybe not quite as obviously illegal weapons, b0ngl0rd69.

b0ngl0rd69: But--

Aoyagi: Nope! Deal's a deal. Go on. Scoot.

b0ngl0rd69: Aw, shit. Fiiiiiiiine. Hey, Sugihara! I'm borrowin' yer workbench!

Sugihara: Yer payin' for the components! And clean up after yourself! And don't you dare use up all my fuckin' solder again!

[b0ngl0rd69 (officially) joins the party! And then stomps off to build himself a zappy/burny/freezy tech weapon that will probably look even more ridiculous than his gunblade!]

Chiba: ...we really gotta call this guy "Bonglord." We... really gotta do that.

Sugihara: Nah, nah, it's "b0ngl0rd."

Doc Nakamura: how are you doing that with your mouth

Shiori: 😬

Aoyagi [aside to Shiori]: If he so much as whispers the word "cosplay," sexy or otherwise, in your general direction, I will debone and filet him. With the cheap gyuto.

[verdantglow]

i hope you understand i am literally frothing at the mouth every time i see you've answered an ask, mine or someone elses. because i love your au so much its such good food for my hyperfixated brain (also i saw your tags and thats so sweet i need you to know its VERY mutual i come here immediately after i wake up to check if theres an answer because i get so excited)

okokok so. the games effect their lives outside the games. good to know. What about the serves theyre apart of? Eg Empires v Hermitcraft? Are those the ships theyre on? Will we be getting brief cameos of those who arent apart of the Life series? Or do they have no relevance to this au? What about other fandom popular lore? (Watchers and Listeners mainly)

I think it would be interesting if, even if Griann didn't make the games, he advertised them? Like a recruiter. Posted the flyers or website link everywhere he could, maybe thinking itd only catch low-bloods attention, and then Scar and the other high-bloods turn up.

Jiernfeijnferijfneriufneruinferinuferuifnerifuner9unfernuf I’m so glad you love this AU so much!!!

Hm hm hm…. I think that I’ll be keeping Empires/Hermitcraft stuff to references & cameos. Part of me is hesitant to include even more characters (18 main characters is already so much omg even with only focusing on a few at a time) but let’s be real, I won’t be able to resist tucking a couple of cameos in here & there. Like. Iskall’s gotta show up somewhere for sure. (I adore Iskall & would love to see him in a Life series actually; that man is deadly & hilarious.) & I’m certain folks would like to see Cub show up as an acquaintance of Scar’s. & then there’s Doc omg, I’ve gotta have Doc in there somewhere… plus obv Cleaoh knows Joe Hills in some capacity. (I just had the revelation that Juppet is a valid troll name & am losing my shit now.)

But yeah! Definitely some cameos, as I think the overarching plot for out of game will be revolving around various attempts at undermining & overthrowing The Condesce, & you’ve gotta have more than 18 people for a revolution of that kind if you want a chance at success.

So tbh I hadn’t even considered Watchers yet, but now I’m like… Watchers = a type of horrorterrors? I also think that the games ultimately come from them. Like Grian discovered the main code for them somehow (dream sequence? Automatic writing? Fished it up? Not positive yet….) & enlisted the help of one or more of his more technologically inclined friends to convert it to VLARP files. I definitely think it was Grian who brought everyone together, even if he didn’t initially mean for this whole group to be there. There was definitely some cases of friends inviting friends: for instance, Griann didn’t have much of a connection to Lizzie, but when he announced the Last Life campaign, Joel insists that his matesprit join them, so she ends up in that campaign. Also, Eethos heard about it from his caste mate Tangoh, who in turn had been invited by Impuls who was invited by Griann. & then Eethos brought in Cleaoh & Bedubs. So it’s a bit of a word of mouth marketing thing, but it all comes back somehow to Griann trying to gather people.

Having the Watchers be horrorterrors would bring in the possibility of Grimdark Griann, which sounds very fun. I really need to do some research into Watchers & especially Listeners as I’ve only got surface level knowledge of that whole thing.

(Also, I swear I have been working on who’s on which space ship, it’s just taking way longer than expected. I’ve written up blurbs about two out of six of the, & it’s already so long omg. Might need to break it down into 2-3 posts so it’s not just the largest wall of text ever.)

[doublelp]

This is a jumping off point for me to talk about this odd internet fandom that developed in like 2020-2021 and went down in flames. I basically watched the whole thing go down from the sidelines and have no skin in the game. It's pretty funny imo.

So Morgan Smith was a fairly young (late teens/early twenties) musical creative who had some momentum after the success of their last amateur musical Oceanborn. In a fairly ambitious move, they decided their next project would be not just a musical, but an entire media franchise. It would be a boring fantasy universe that includes cryptids, witches, queerness, all kinds of stuff that young gen z fandom nerds would eat up. It also felt vaugly inspired by harry potter, to the point that it was practically a way to advertise itself as an "alternative".

Anyway, Smith recruited a few creative-types including songwriter Sushi Soucy to help with musicals. To my knowledge, no actual musicals were made, but there were soundtracks and plot summaries and i think a webcomic that was passed off as a graphic novel. They also advertised an epic poem as part of the franchise but it's all lukewarm at best. The fandom was called Averno and it was way more style than substance. As a marketing machine, it seemed fairly effective at cultivating it's niche online audience, though my assessment is that it was too messy for any mainstream appeal. It did spawn a few articles and interviews so clearly it gained some traction, but not enough to put off any productions.

So the fandom was developing slowly, primarily over discord, and I lurked a lot to see how the hell everything would pan out. Lots of promo (including an ARG), but barely anything to show for it. Granted, there were studio recordings of the show tunes, but no show. Before any big moves could be made (I assume covid prevented things from happening), the shoe dropped on Smith. A big google document called Exverno detailed all of the wrongdoings. It was the callout post to rival all callout posts.

The extent of Smith's behavior amounts to 1. Not paying Averno creatives appropriately, à la Greg Ginn's SST accounting, and 2. Grooming, mostly in the form of "can't wait until you turn 18!" You can probably find the Exverno document for yourself, it's gotta be floating around the internet. It's pretty long. The reaction from both employed creatives and fandom was complete ostracism for Smith and their partner. The discord went through a meltdown before rebranding into a generic and shallow cryptid/fantasy community or something. I didn't stick around. Due to the community being prone to exaggeration (likely from limited life experiences and theater kid energy), a lot will claim that Averno was a cult and Smith was a cult leader. I don't doubt that Smith's actions were shitty but I cannot stress enough that this was a far cry from Heaven's Gate. It was a dumb fandom that revolved around the idea of it's media rather than the media itself. Highly impressionable young people got swindled, basically.

I believe the key takeaway is that young creatives should not bite off more than they can chew. Obviously Morgan Smith was too inexperienced to properly manage a fandom while also developing an entire franchise. I read the words "Like the Marvel Universe but for musicals" more than once, which kind of tells you everything that you need to know. Shoot for the stars I suppose.

Smith's epilogue is that they've laid low and continued theirs studies at NYU, I'm assuming for drama or something like that. I don't see them becoming a big public figure again anytime soon for their own personal projects, but I'd bet they'll make pathways for themselves in broadway.

Sushi Soucy's epilogue involves moving on to another mediocre music for fandom kids to eat up. A cursory look at his instagram reveals that they've done ANOTHER google doc callout post for a seperate person that I do not know or care to know. Time really is a flat circle.

[hilarybecker]

I did a thing

[arisunakayama]

Yan!Hank J Wimbleton X Reader X Tsun!2BDamned

A/n: IM BACK FROM MY HIATUS AND IM SO MAD. The ask and progress for this got deleted so I gotta do this all over again ToT

T/W: Blood, Gore, Obsessive Behavior, Stalking, Death

You probably had met both Doc and Hank when Doc recruited you into S.Q as both a combat medic when you were out on a mission and a doctor if you’re not out and about in a mission.

Originally you were just supposed to be there as 2BDamned’s assistant. That being the heavy lifting and bull crap along with handling unclassified documents

But once you showed you were able to perform professional medical care and were able to point out what injuries were which along with being a pretty damn good shot with most weapons, you were immediately moved to treating those who came in with injuries.

One of them being Hank.

[CATCHING HANK’S ATTENTION]

In the beginning Hank did NOT want you toughing him at all. You were an untrusted stranger after all.

Plus he kinda does hate everyone after all, aside from 2BDamned, Sanford and Deimos.

But even then he mostly tolerated the other two.

Though 2BDamned ended up barking at him and tells him to sit his ass down and stop complaining.

He doesn’t move, but what he does is watch you with a glare in his eyes.

Hank could hear Doc tell you not to worry about him and to proceed with healing him, to which you hesitantly do.

Once you did, Hank said nothing and did nothing until you were finished.

After that, he left without a word after getting the next assignment from 2BDamned.

It would actually go on like this until something really bad had happen to him. Basically to where he was at near death.

And that was when you were out with all three if them: Hank, Sanford, and Deimos.

Hank could barely hear your voice as you found him sitting against the wall bleeding out heavily.

The stupid fucking clown had did a number on him before the other three came to help.

Hank wasn’t going to lie, his injuries hurt like a fucking bitch to where he could barely move without his own intestines almost spilling out of his stomach.

He could barely even make out your voice as you rushed to his side to perform medical care while both Sanford and Deimos held back the agents trying to rush into the room

After that he blacked out only to wake up in the S.Q medbay sewn and patched up together.

In the midst of Hank’s stupor, he hears two voices. That being your’s and Doc’s.

You were the first one to notice Hank, giving him a soft yet exhausted smile as you made your way to his bedside.

“How you feel, Hank? Almost lost you there. If we did, Doc over here would be pissed off having to bring you back again.”

Hank listened to you laugh meanwhile Doc only shook his head while wiping off his hands from the blood that coated it with a rag.

“He has no sense of self-preservation. Out of all people you should know this…” Doc curses out loud before shooting you a slight glare making you shrink slightly.

Hank honestly was tuning out Doc at this point, tunnel visioned on you. Plus he was used to 2B’s berating.

Unlike 2BDamned when stitching him back up, you actually genuinely check up on him.

Hell even that smile was off putting considering how warm it was. It made his chest feel… fuzzy…

After that, during missions he’d most likely start sticking with you, making sure that you wouldn’t get wounded.

And that if the two of you DID have to split, he would secretly follow you, making sure that not a single thing about you was harmed.

And that if you were hurt by said grunt, Hank would probably gut him the and there. Right in front of you….

It’s happened once too, it almost make you want to vomit whatever contents you had in your stomach.

Back at S.Q it was even worse with him.

Hank started becoming more smothering, constantly hovering over you, following where you go, etc.

It was even worse when he would glare or snap at other agents/mercenaries who had been your friends, almost isolating you from everyone but him.

It was getting too much for you…

[CATCHING 2BDAMNED’S ATTENTION]

How you caught Doc’s attention would probably be because you helped with taking some of the work load that he has on his shoulders.

At first he didn’t mind, if anything it helps him with getting to the more important tasks that needed his attention.

Not that he didn’t appreciate it, but he was far too busy to even care. Or notice at that fact.

Though once you started doing the small things for him, like bring coffee for him, move him to the couch that he had in his office whenever he’d fall asleep at his desk, etc. That’s when he’d start turning some of his attention on you.

Of course he thought it was pointless, sometimes chastising you for doing something like that. But he’d also thank you. In his own way of course.

That be him not verbally saying it, but letting you have a longer rest time or having the day off if he saw how stressed you were.

But how he would execute it would come across as… as if he didn’t you around him.

It made you wonder what the hell you were doing wrong?

It also didn’t help when he would pair you up with the Main 3. Especially Hank.

You didn’t mind Deimos or Sanford considering they at least treated you decently and had your back during missions.

But Hank, he would just leave you to fend for yourself causing you to almost die a couple of times. Thank god for your immaculate aim and agility. All that combat training came into great use.

2BDamned didn’t like seeing you come back wounded either, watching you limp into the medbay covered in bandages from earlier to get some pain killers.

He’d tell you to be more careful. At least… that what he’s trying to tell you.

“How could you be so careless and let yourself get hurt like this? If you keep doing this, you might as well just die out there!” Doc was never good at wording himself unless it came to business.

But he couldn’t have you dying on him. Especially considering he’s now come to realize how much he’s come to care for you.

After saving Hank, 2BDamned also would notice the sudden changes in Hank. He could see the possessiveness and how clingy he was towards you.

Not to mention the aggressive behavior towards the other grunts and agents whenever you would try to converse with them. It had gotten to the point where they all started trying to avoid you.

Doc ended up having to threaten Hank with not being on any missions with you, let alone would have you stay back more than usual if he didn’t clean up his act. Of course, Hank wouldn’t listen. At least when it came to stalking you.

But at the same time, his behavior may be what keeps you alive. Especially when the two of you are out on raids together. 

If anything Doc would probably use this to his and your advantage to keep you alive. He’d compromise with Hank, putting you two together on missions whenever you were needed on said job.

And if you weren’t you be back at S.Q in the med bay doing your other job which is to care for the grunts that needed medical treatment. Unfortunately, those grunts were too scared to even interact with you in fear of what Hank would do to them.

You were a good person, everyone in the S.Q knew that, but they were just too scared because of Hank and it made you feel even more lonely than before.

The only ones who would try to converse with you would be Doc, Sanford and Deimos. 

But even then, Hank would act rather aggressive towards both Deimos and Sanford, making it even more scarce with social interaction.

[YOUR POV AND WHEN YOU LEAVE]

You didn’t know what was going on and why the two were acting the way with you. 

All you did was show that you cared for them and their health. I mean c’mon, you were a fucking field medic/doctor for crying out loud. It was your job.

Not only that, you didn’t join S.Q to be treated like this. You joined because like everyone, you wanted to see the AAHW burn down to the ground.

With Hank, you knew how his behavior with you would be considering he didn’t even like interacting with the other agents and grunts aside from Doc, Deimos and Sanford. But even then he would mostly interact with Doc.

So him leaving you alone and leaving you to die was something you knew was going to happen in the raids you were with him. But it still didn’t mean you were going to leave him to die.

But there was a small part of you that wished you did considering his behavior towards you now.

All just because you saved and showed you at least cared for his health. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before. So why the sudden change in behavior?

You could feel Hank’s eyes staring at you through those red goggles making you uneasy. It also didn’t help that even when off work, you could feel him staring into your very being. No matter where you went it felt as if you were being watched.

Being at work was even worse considering he would just hover around you, glaring and threatening the grunts and agents you befriended back then, scaring them away from talking to you.

It made you feel lonely, ostracized even.

2BDamned’s behavior towards you wasn’t helping you either. You don’t know what you deserved for getting those berating comments towards you whenever you tried to help him.

It hurt even more when you had gotten injured from a mission to where you had to limp your way into the med bay only to be caught by Doc.

All you could do was just sit there quietly while he scolds you, listening to him while telling you that “you might as well die” with how “clumsy” you were.

You weren’t even clumsy, the reason why you were injured in the first place was because Hank had left you and the room you were in was being overwhelmed with agents.

The last straw was when Doc started putting you on missions with only Hank, making you feel both uncomfortable and suffocated. You wanted nothing to do with him anymore. 

Even working in the med bay was something that made you even more upset considering the grunts that came in wanted to be no where near you because they were scared of Hank. Not that you could blame the poor things.

You remember that it got so bad one time that you had to physically pry a grunt from Hank’s hands just because they wanted to ask you where the bathroom was.

Enough was enough.

Late into the night, you packed all your things. Throwing them into the trunk of you vehicle before speeding off into the night without a word to anyone. Even for you, a normal grunt inside of Nevada where the gore, blood and chaos lived, had enough where only one can handle.

[WHEN THEY FIND OUT YOU’VE LEFT]

Out of the two 2BDamned would probably be the one who finds out about your disappearance first.

He would get suspicious about you not coming down from you bed chambers, only to come and check up on you considering he had gotten slightly worried. 

But when he found out that your room had been cleared out empty, he felt his chest tighten at you leaving unannounced. He wouldn’t say anything and would also be glad that the mask he wore covered his distraught expression.

After that he would probably lock himself in his office, burying himself in his work in hopes of ignoring the gnawing feeling of guilt and sadness of you leaving.

But no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t get you out of his head. Maybe if he had treated you a bit better...

As for Hank, he would probably be livid at you leaving him like this. 

So much to where he had punched a hole into the nearest wall, scaring any nearby grunt before they scurried away in fear of being Hank’s next target other than the wall.

How dare you leave him like this, the only person to have shown him that you weren’t afraid of him and cared for him.

It got so much to the point he stormed into 2BDamned’s office only to see that he was burying himself in work. Something he usually does when trying to forget something.

Hank tries to negotiate with Doc, trying to convince him to let him track you down so he could bring you back to the S.Q.

2B on the other hand was against it, saying it was probably best for you to not be here considering that the two of them failed to realize how unhappy you really were.

But Hank being stubborn, didn’t take no for an answer. It got to the point where he basically said he was going to find you anyways.

As for you, you were already half across Nevada. Praying and hoping for none of them to find you. But knowing how the S.Q had Hank. One of Nevada’s most wanted and dangerous criminal, you knew that somewhere in the back of your mind you’d be found anyways...

But it still wouldn’t stop you. Even if you had to die...

[workingforitallthetime]

you’re 200% right nobody on that team has enough boss energy, not even nick and he’s the captain lol

you know what would work, though? an au where the umich boys are very low-level functionaries in a mafia enterprise. like, dancers at a mafia-run strip club. drivers. garbagemen.

oh WAIT, anon i GOT IT!......... an au where the umich boys are the DANBURY TRASHERS. mafia boss pat brisson buys brendan a minor league hockey team for his 18th birthday and brendan's slightly shady friend bords signs on to help brendan run it.

they recruit a ragtag bunch of players, including slightly crazy released convict with delusions of grandeur GVW, drifter nolan moyle who might be on the run from the law, good boy nick blankenburg who has no idea what's really going on and is doing his best to captain this bunch of miscreants (unlike everybody else blanks is living on his honest paycheck and not getting a bunch of extra money in an envelope under the table.)

one night bords and briss are having a drink at their local and a fight breaks out and they see this 6'6 guy throw somebody over a pool table. bords immediately asks if owen has ever thought about hockey but it turns out owen has sworn off playing hockey because he never wanted to fight anybody. he only threw that guy across the pool table because he was messing with kent. kent says "oh you're looking for hockey players?" and it turns out kent was MVP of the high school state championship team a few years back but never played in college because he was too small. "we'll take you," briss says, and owen begrudgingly agrees to sign on too if kent's playing.

ok so i only partly watched the danbury trashers doc, but my understanding is the mafia dad was using the team as a front to launder money or something. and i love this because it gives me (a) DADDY ISSUES, brendan thought he was for real running a hockey team -- thought his dad had put his trust in him to run a business on his own -- and he feels utterly betrayed when it turns out he was just a figurehead for his father's money laundering operation, and (b) federal agent matty. i think matty tries to use brendan as his entree into the organization, and brendan thinks he's falling in love but then he finds out he's been sleeping with the guy who's trying to get his father arrested. or else brendan finds out about his father's betrayal and that's what makes him turn informant for matty? or some combination of the two? i gotta think some more about all of this.