#this au is the gift that keeps on giving

[tumblerislovetumblerislife]

that awkward moment when your manager becomes white boy of the month

(inspired by @e-payne's stunning singer/manager payneland au!! the tweets and the spongebob meme are taken from these amazing edits <3)

[pigeonstab]

three cycles

for that one anon who wanted to see more of New guardians. I just redesigned them because actually I'm really not good at making stories lol.

[goddesspharo]

I kept coming back to something that Cruise had said, which was, 'The world's going to become really loud, and it's your decision how much you turn up or down the volume.' Because the world did get really loud, but I didn't know where those dials were. I was like, 'I know we talked about this, but I don't know how to work this console.' [x]

[seagreenstardust]

I really really like the interpretation that Izuku declined the offer to work with Katsuki because he feels like he can’t ask any more from him, can’t burden him any more. If Izuku thinks Katsuki’s doing all of this because of guilt? Still? After all these years?? When really Katsuki cannot even fathom life without Izuku in it and is doing everything he possibly can to keep him

[shitapril]

carlos and lando's "box of bluffs" really took me back to the mclaren days - what with lando being a red, giggly mess (and timely removal of that awful beard) and carlos saying random things to egg lando, and both of them being in their own world as if the interviewer wasn't right there ugh my heart is full.

everybody say thank you aus gp !!!

[puppetmaster13u]

Thinkin' of WOF Au for DC, but like, it's a Gothamite and Fawcett thing. (And Amity Park if crossover)

Like those are the most magical areas in the world, even if Gotham is cursed as fuck. An unspoken secret of sorts that while they present themselves as human to outsiders, they are all Very Much Not.

Which means hilariously in the league, when everyone expects Batman to be suspicious and short with the new guy- even made bets on it- they are then shooketh when both visibly relax and start talking. And half the shared complaints don't make sense!

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Now Gotham technically has no Queen, nor does Fawcett, but Batman and Captain Marvel are the closest things. Not in the traditional sense of back when they were in separate tribes (& maybe from a different dimension but shh that was millennia ago) but in the sense of, they're the ones patrolling and protecting the cities along with calling the shots in disasters.

Which does sort of change the dynamic they both have in their city. If one of them calls to arms, the city would follow them. They could declare war, and their cities (begrudgingly in Gotham's underbelly's case of strongest is in charge) would follow. And while Billy is oblivious, both Marvel-the-not-hivemind and Batman are. They know they have to be very careful.

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I'm sure we all want Nightwing Bruce but no. Bruce, like both his mother and father and father's father and so on before him, is actually an Icewing. The Waynes however, have a case of melanism running in their bloodline. Thomas Wayne? Only his quills and part of his back were darker, but Bruce? Practically pitch black scales that shadow his eyes.

Now Alfred on the other hand, is a Nightwing. No special powers there, though you would hear many a child protest with how he seems to know everything.

Commissioner Gordon is a Mudwing, big stocky and very tired, which translates to his human disguise as a large trenchcoat. He finds this very amusing. Barbara similarly, is half Mudwing. Her mother was a Hivewing, making her a hybrid between both. Which does ironically mean that Batgirl does in fact have insectoid wings. Though that does ponder the question on if they'd all go by their original vigilante names.

Dick is a Silkwing. Wingless as he watches his parents fall and unable to do anything despite this place supposedly being safe for beings like them. He grows into his own, and his wings, when they come in, are dark Gotham colors through and through, with the deep blue of the sky he's come to crave.

Jason is a hybrid between a Mudwing and a Skywing. He's also an animus- not that he knew that. He doesn't find out until he's dying, telling himself to not die, to get back to Gotham, to his dad, his family- And then he wakes up in his Coffin, alive.

Now Cass, raised to be the perfect killer, is also a hybrid, just one between a Nightwing and a Rainwing, egg set out under the moon. Which succeeds, partially. She can't straight up read minds, but combined with her talent in reading body language on both human and inhuman bodies, it's a near thing.

Tim is a Seawing, borderline abandoned by his parents who seek treasures and more wealth as he's trapped back in a city where the water is dark and poisoned. But he's Gothamite, through and through, and he adapts. Scales darker than the original blues he was born with, and glow shifting to that sickly white of the Gotham's Bats.

Now Steph, is a full-blooded Rainwing, and can in fact change her scales, but can mostly be found in purples and golds. Though for a short time she was in another set of colors, thought dead before she slithered out of the shadows older and wiser than before.

Damian is his father's son, but he's also an Al-Ghul. The not-quite dragonet is half Icewing, and half Sandwing. And struggled to adjust at first, to a place so different from his first home where the only other dragons were blood related. But like any Wayne before him, he adjusts, and he adapts.

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Billy wasn't a Beetlewing originally, and perhaps he would have hesitated if he'd known it would change him, would change his body and the last thing he had of his parents. But his friends, his Team and new family help. And he can pass as a Silkwing like their sort-of foster mother. All six of them can do so now, even if the others look more like hybrids themselves thanks to not being the Champion. They might not be, but they're his family. And that's enough.

[sincerely-sofie]

*Skitters up to you on all fours and drops this in your lap, then scrambles up the walls and onto the ceiling and immediately falls asleep*

Comic time! Lucky wakes up in the middle of the night and has a chat with Sen in this one.

[asmodeauxx]

they gift and he keeps, as cruel as he may be,, (wip)

[warning-heckboop]

"Why did you make Peri mad at Dev instead of wanting to forgive him?" dunno. Vibes I guess

[boxdstars]

lucan would ask sebastian to duo with him in fortnite and that’s just canon to me baby. hit post

[suitsusboth]

I need a lovelight pumpkin patch story!! Pumpkin patch, corn maze or maybe just hay bales, piping hot cider. Sophie's apple cider donuts, along with other fall offerings! Romantic apple picking, maybe bobbing for apples? Although that's unsanitary. Whatever strikes your fancy!

You know what? Me too! All the fall feels! While I have a plan for a lovelights au fic that spans all seasons and will touch on the chaotic festivals that happen in Aubrey, here’s a small snippet of the annual corn maze race a year after that planned fic 😉

October 2024

Autumn in Aubrey was perhaps her favorite time of year.

“You say that about every season,” Sophie replied, smiling knowingly as she packed up some freshly made apple cider donuts into a box.

Kate sighed happily. Yeah, that was true.

It didn’t matter what time of year— she loved it here.

The back door of the bakehouse swung open then, revealing Anthony and Benedict holding two large coffee/tea dispensers.

“Ms. Agatha wants these back first thing,” Anthony told them as he and his brother placed the containers on the countertop, ready to be filled with Sophie homemade apple cider (a kid’s version and an adult version.) “And cleaned ‘properly.’”

From the way Anthony’s face was pinched, Kate knew the old woman hadn’t released her containers easily, even though she was joining them tonight.

Sophie must have known it too, by how she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

It had been two years since Ms. Agatha insulted Sophie for over-mixing her batter, and she had not let it go. A slow, low burning rivalry simmered between the two women and as much as Kate would love for them to reconcile, she could not help but enjoy the by-product of their feud—exceptionally delicious baked goods. Which she was enjoying more than ever, recently.

“Nearly ready?” Ben asked after they ladled the drinks into their containers (Ben probably pouring more liquor than he should in the adult container), and Sophie finished packing the last remaining tray of treats.

“Yep!” Sophie said brightly, gesturing to the eight boxes before her.

“God, Soph. How much did you make?”

Sophie swatted him in the stomach. “Do not judge! Do you know how big your family is? Plus Simon, Mary, Edwina, Ms. Agatha, Michael, John—”

“John isn’t here, he has a game.” Kate informed her, “But I think Eloise brought Penelope with her. And I will happily pick up the slack so there aren't too many leftovers.” She opened a box and pulled out a donut and bit into the sugary goodness and let out a little involuntarily moan. Sophie really was some sort of baking fairy.

“Should we leave you two alone?” Anthony quipped, then dodged Kate’s half-hearted swat in his direction.

“You’re just jealous,” she remarked back, and Anthony merely winked at her as he and Ben filled the drink containers.

“Enough, you two,” Ben interrupted, knowing how far they could take this if left unchecked. “Let’s get going. Everyone’s waiting for us.”

Sophie started to hand her boxes. “Kate, can you carry—?”

“Simon’s coming to help,” Anthony said abruptly, “He can carry them.”

Kate shot her husband a look, but luckily Ben and Sophie did not question him and went on to carry the stuff out of the bakehouse where Simon was approaching, ready to help. They all headed to the field where the rest of their family and friends were waiting. It was late October, and Halloween was approaching. That left only one Bridgerton Family tradition left to do for the fall season— the corn maze. Anthony had finished making it yesterday and everyone had gathered to try it out before they opened it to the public.

While for their guests on the farm, it was supposed to be a nice, leisurely activity, it was anything but this late afternoon. As most things with the Bridgertons, this was a competition. There were two objectives of the game— fastest time, and avoid getting shot by Anthony and his BB gun who acted as the “minotaur”. As the creator of the maze, it was unanimously decided he could not compete. It didn't b matter though. Anthony loved a chance to torment his siblings.

Last year, Colin got so lost in the maze it took him nearly three hours to compete. And by how pale Colin looked right now, maybe he was recalling that fact.

“Colin,” Kate sucked in a breath. “You look awful. Are you okay?”

Colin seemed to blanch, then smiled at her uneasily. “Peachy.”

Kate was about to ask him if he was sure, when Eloise said, “He’s sick.” Anthony discreetly pulled Kate away a few steps, putting some distance between her and his brother. “That’s what you get for doing the apple bobbing at the Fall Festival last week,” Eloise huffed, “In what world did you think that was a good idea? Think of all the germs.”

“The Collins kids went before you I think, and I think he had the flu,” Penelope hummed sympathetically.

Violet piped up then, grimacing. “He most certainly did. He was sick all over me on Tuesday.”

Colin made a little noise then, which Kate was nearly certain was a gag, as he slumped down on a picnic table bench, looking as if he really wanted to be in the fetal position.

“Maybe sit this one out, bud,” Ben said, patting him on the back, and Colin let out a noise in which Kate could only assume he agreed, seeing as standing posed difficulty at this moment.

“Here,” Anthony said, putting a piping cup of cider and a bottle of water in front of him. “Hydrate.”

“Thanks,” Colin half slurred, waving them off, “Go on without me.” He looked at Penelope. “Make sure you win, Pen. I got money on you.”

Penelope pinkened slightly, but nodded.

Kate left Penelope blushing, as Eloise— who was oblivious to her best friend's crush on her brother —started on a tangent about how she was going to win the maze and went to help set up the spread. In a slightly new part of the tradition of the corn maze day, Kate had added a little picnic/buffet situation to the day. Sophie brought the desserts, Violet brought some sort of crockpot/slow roast for sandwiches, Anthony made soup, and Mary brought her butternut squash raviolis and sage sauce.

Kate smiled to herself as she watched her step-mom happily chatting with Violet and Ms Agatha as they laughed over something or other. Mary had moved to Aubrey over the summer and it made her heart happy to have her so close now. Anthony wrapped an arm around her, giving her look as if to say he knew exactly what she was thinking. And he probably did.

“So,” Michael said, slinking up next to them with Edwina and Francesca in tow. “I’m being told that I might be shot at?”

“Yep!” Kate replied brightly, and Michael looked at her like she had gone insane. To be fair, he often gave her this look nowadays. He’s told her multiple times how she’s drank the cool aid on this town.

“Shoot at me Bridgerton and I will kick you in the balls,” Edwina told Anthony, and Anthony's expression tightened a fraction. He knew Edwina well enough that she was dead serious.

“You should probably start warming up,” Kate told him— who in turn looked baffled— then looked at Francesca. “Did you tell him about the hide and seek rules?” His eyes flicked to Michael and Edwina. “There’s no pushing allowed by the way. Instant disqualification.”

Michael shook his head. “The more I hear, the more troubling this becomes.”

“You should see them at Easter,” Kate shook her head. “That’s the real bloodbath. Pushing is allowed then.”

“But no gouging,” Fran helpfully added, obviously enjoying Michael’s despair over these weird family traditions and rules.

“What about shanking?” Michael joked.

Anthony hummed thoughtfully as his brows pulled together. “Not officially, but we should probably write that down. I wouldn’t put it past Eloise.”

“That reminds me,” Kate said, looking at Michael again, “Watch out for Hyacinth, she will go for your kneecaps.”

They all turned to look over at the teenage girl who was a few feet away. Hyacinth saw them and looked Michael dead in the eye, completely deadpan, and proceeded to give him the universal you’re dead gesture. Kate was pretty sure she heard Michael swear under his breath before Hyacinth broke out into giggles and skipped away.

Michael actually started to look nervous then, which was very unlike him. “I need a drink,” he stated, and stalked over to the cider stand.

“I’m gonna get set up,” Anthony said with a kiss to her temple. Kate waved him off, and Edwina and Frannie decided to help themselves to seconds. They asked Kate to come along with them but she waved them off.

She just wanted to stand there for a moment.

Kate took a long, deep breath, enjoying the crispness of the air as she looked around at the beauty around her. They had come to the golden hour, and on this perfect day the vibrant reds, yellows and oranges felt other worldly against the backdrop of the clear blue sky only topped by the breathtaking mouton peaks. The sound of laughter and chatter filled the air as her family and friends mingled and ate. Kate tried to savor the moments like these. It was so easy to walk through life blindly, not even seeing or enjoying moments like these. And she had done it for so many years. She wanted to relish every happy moment that came her way. She wanted to appreciate everything she had.

Kate watched as Daphne split from the group and started to walk her way, two cups in hand. She stopped when she reached Kate and extended a cup to her.

She looked at the cup. “Oh, um,” Kate hesitated, “Which—?”

Daphne laughed, and pushed the cup into her hand. “The normal one, of course. I wouldn’t give the spiked one to you in your condition.”

Kate’s head whipped up. “How did you—?”

Daphne gave her a bemused look. “Anthony isn’t exactly subtle. He hasn’t let you pick up a thing and constantly wants to sit down. Not to mention he walks around like he’s on cloud nine and you smile like you have a special secret. Plus you come to the store once a week to look at baby onesies. And, well…” Daphne laid a hand on her own stomach. “One knows the signs.”

Kate was sure she let out a little squeak when she caught her meaning. “Oh my God, Daphne!”

Daphne hushed her, looking around to see if anyone heard them, but was grinning from ear to ear when she looked back at Kate. “Yeah, we’re really happy. We’ll tell everyone at Thanksgiving.” Daphne looked over to where Simon and Amelia were. Amelia was currently trying to steal the donut Simon had in hand, and she had the cutest pout when Simon moved it away.

She couldn’t wait to watch Anthony be with their own little one.

“When are you telling everyone?” Daphne asked.

“Today,” she replied, “we wanted to wait to get everyone together and tell them in person.” It was hard to get everyone together, especially with Edwina, Michael and Frannie being in the city.

Daphne reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m really happy for you both.”

“What are you happy about?” Anthony asked as he walked over to them.

Daphne didn’t say anything, instead smiled knowingly and gave her brother's arm a squeeze before heading back to join her own family.

“What was that about?” Anthony asked quietly, one brow raised as his arm circled her waist.

Kate smiled. “Daphne knows. Apparently we are not inconspicuous.”

Anthony chuckled softly. It was one of her favorite sounds. “Oops. Good thing the cat will be out of the bag by the end of the night.”

Kate leaned her head on his shoulder, smiling to herself. She couldn’t wait. She was fit to burst with this secret.

“I think it’s time,” Anthony murmured, giving her one last gentle squeeze before he stepped away and yelled out to ask if everyone was ready. Kate watched as he walked away, and the excited looks of everyone as they started to ready themselves.

Kate took another look as the sun started to set, the pumpkins they had carved and lit glowing steadily as Simon started to light the couple of fireplaces they had dragged over.

Kate smiled to herself and let out a happy sigh as she pulled her coat more closely around her.

Soon the brilliant colors would fade, leaving the muted browns and grays in their wake as the Earth died and the cold set in.

The nights would become long and the cold would bite, but Kate would barely feel. Not when she was surrounded by all this love.

[quibble-auk]

@thebrokenmechanicalpencil

I finally finished the little blurb with Echo and Cometeater. Idk if I got your guy right in this, I just kinda winged it. I swear Echo isn’t usually this awkward, but he’s kinda still messed up and Comet is not helping.

Anyway. I want them to be friends, or at least friendly, but you can tell me if I’m wrong. That may just be me… but of everyone on the base (other than my medics) I feel like these two could chill.

The start is… idk it’s something. I was struggling with how to start it tbh. I gave up. Same with the end.

—

Echo didn’t really know what to do while he waited. Dropmix was supposed to be doing some more tests on his doorwing sensors to make sure everything was healing right but the medic was preoccupied. Even though Echo had previously scheduled the appointment he had been brushed off in favor of treating the mechs that had just come back after getting caught in a minefield—which he had no issue with. He despised having to come down to the medical bay.

Especially when Leoblast wasn’t able to come down with him.

It was nothing against Dropmix or Jeopardy—the older was gentle and kind, and the younger was sweet and innocent—he just simply didn’t like the medical bay. Not after the incident with Sunrazor. He had spent plenty of time in the medical bay both during the ordeal and afterwards. But he had to come get screened, again, just in case for whatever reason things weren’t healing properly.

Usually, Leoblast had always been willing to come down with him to keep him company, however the guardian was off on a patrol. So, Echo would just have to deal with sitting in the sterile room by himself for the time being.

Well, almost by himself.

Jeopardy had sat down a bot cloaked in a blue blanket when he stormed through. He hadn’t been able to offer much introduction, preoccupied with gathering supplies for Dropmix and unfortunate mechs who had detonated the landmines. He had muttered a frantic introduction before explaining to the smaller mech that he couldn’t go with Jeopardy into surgery. Echo hadn’t been able to hear if the mass of blue ever responded.

But the other mech in the room had yet to say anything and Echo would rather not bother him for the time being. Maybe if he was in a better mood he may have been able to muster up a joke or two to try and break the ice, but today he wasn’t up for it. He hadn’t been up to pulling a prank or messing around in awhile, Leo was starting to get worried.

Echo stared down at his fidgeting hands, doorwings flicking behind him as he hunched over in his seat. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft hiss of the medbay's ventilation and the low lulling of soft music that was ever present. Echo’s fingers tapped a twitchy rhythm against his knee as he stole a glance toward the other mech.

Cometeater.

That’s what Jeopardy had called him, right before disappearing behind the surgical doors with a tray of energon packs balanced in his arms. The name didn’t quite match the mech’s current state—bundled tightly in a blue blanket, helm bowed, and posture almost painfully small for someone with such an intimidating designation.

Echo’s doorwings twitched again. He hated awkward silence. It pressed into the back of his processor, static loud and itchy. The pale green mech clearly wasn’t in good shape either—so what was the harm in saying something? Even if Echo didn’t feel like talking, maybe a word or two would help pass the time. Distract both of them.

“It’s um… Cometeater right?” The Praxian began, tilting his head towards the other, “I’m Echo, Jeopardy introduced us a bit ago but…” He trailed off, where was he going? He smiled and laughed nervously, readjusting his posture. He wanted to kick himself, he used to be good at things like this. “We haven’t gotten a formal introduction I guess.”

Cometeater didn’t respond at first—not with words, anyway. The bundle of blanket shifted slightly, as though startled that someone had decided to speak to him at all. He blinked at Echo, eyes sizing him up for just a moment before he responded. The younger mech's voice was soft. Not shy, exactly—closer to something cautious. Carefully rationed. “Yeah… it’s Cometeater.”

Echo gave a small nod, eyes flicking to the floor again. “That’s… a name,” he said with a half-laugh, before wincing. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I just—Cometeater. It sounds… I dunno. Intense?”

The other mech just shrugged blankly. He really wasn’t giving Echo much to work with here. The sharpshooter smiled, trying to remain friendly despite the unease that was crawling through him. There was something about the way that Comet watched him that was unsettling.

The Praxian cleared his throat, trying to brush off the static curling at the back of his mind. “So, uh… are you from around here?” he asked, gesturing vaguely. “Base-wise, I mean. I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

Another pause. Then, softly, “No.”

Echo waited, thinking there might be more, but that was apparently the whole statement. “Cool,” he said anyway, stretching the word out like it might fill the gap in conversation. “Got transferred here recently? I haven’t really been keeping up with the gossip on base recently, maybe I missed your arrival?”

Cometeater just stared blankly at him more, not a single tell on his face. There was no way to tell what he was thinking. The silence stretched on long enough that Echo was starting to believe that the other wasn’t planning on responding at all when they finally spoke again. Cometeater shrugged again and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “It’s complicated.”

When someone said something like “it's complicated” it was a very clear message to drop it. So Echo did. He nodded along, wing twitching slightly.

“…Yeah. I get that,” Echo said quietly, rubbing his thumb against his fingertips, fidgeting again. He didn’t push for more. He knew how much it sucked when people did that—asking questions like they had a right to your trauma just because they were curious. He wouldn’t be that guy.

He let the silence settle again. This time, it didn’t feel quite so suffocating.

Cometeater shifted a little beside him, drawing the blanket tighter like it might shield him from the room, the war, the universe. His eyes weren’t on Echo anymore, instead fixed on a spot near the door, far off and vacant. The Praxian could see the mech’s clawed hands working at the hem of the blanket, tugging at the seams mindlessly. He would destroy the blanket if he kept doing that for too long.

Still, Echo didn’t press. Instead, he leaned back in his chair again and let his gaze wander the ceiling, counting faint cracks in the paneling that he’d memorized from past visits. After a few minutes passed like that, Echo tried again. Not with words, but with something simpler.

He reached into one of the little compartments on his hip, fumbling for a moment before pulling out a tiny hex-shaped stress puck. Tempestrift had given it to him when they were still just getting to know each other—a little comfort thing, something he could squeeze or flick or spin when his processor started spiraling or he got antsy while waiting for a target. Just something simple to forget or play with.

It was meant to be provide him with something to do to keep him from losing his mind with the endless amounts of waiting he was always doing.

The blue mech stared at it for a moment in his palm, then tilted it slightly toward Cometeater. “You want it?”

The younger mech looked over at him slowly. Didn’t take it. Didn’t reject it, either.

“I, uh… I know what it’s like,” Echo added, his voice a bit rougher now. “Sitting in here and feeling like your plating’s gonna peel off if you don’t do something. Even if it’s dumb. Even if it’s just a stupid toy.”

He tried to smile. It didn’t really land. His fingers absently flexed around the small fidget toy, his wings flicking uncertainty as he forced himself to remain still. After another beat of silence he slowly retracted his hand, heel bouncing on the ground as he looked away, “You don’t have to take it if you don’t want it. Just… Figured it would help.”

Echo couldn’t help but look at the edge of the blanket again, where a seam had already come loose. Cometeater slowly followed his gaze down, eyes widening when he looked at the minimal damage done to the fabric. For a moment, Cometeater just stared at the frayed edge—like he’d only just realized he was the one unraveling it. His claws froze, stiff with guilt. Then, carefully, he folded them into his lap. Not tightly. Not clenched. Just… still. A small effort, but Echo could tell it took some control.

“…Sorry,” Cometeater mumbled, voice barely audible. His optics stayed on the blanket. “I didn’t mean to.”

Echo waved the apology off with a flick of his wrist, smiling sympathetically. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not even torn yet. You don’t have to apologize. You’re fine,” He hesitated, leg still bouncing. “I used to pick at my own paint when I got bored, or I’d start to carve little notches into my gun. So at least with the blanket you’ll be spared a lecture on abusing equipment from Rumbleclutch.”

Cometeater didn’t smile or laugh at the sad attempt to lighten the mood.

The blue mech looked down at the puck he held, debating if he had made the right call or just blown this entire attempt to converse. He decided to focus on the small toy in his hand rather than his failed joke, smile falling.

The small puck that he had was far from anything fancy or nice. The paint had long since been stripped and it was notched and scratched, but so was everything since the war had started. Finding small toys like that had become rarer and rarer, but Tempestrift had gotten him nicer ones since then, he really didn’t need this one anymore.

He tried to offer it again, “You don’t have to take it, but I do have others if that’s what you're worried about. And it’ll help the blanket last longer.”

Cometeater looked at the puck again. This time, for a little longer. He didn’t reach for it, but something in his expression flickered—like a radio signal almost coming through, then fizzling back into static. His claws twitched slightly, and he shifted in his seat again, less like he was trying to disappear and more like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to exist in the space.

Eventually, with hesitant, almost mechanical motion, he extended one hand from the safety of the blanket and took the puck.

Not quite from Echo’s palm, not quite directly either. He scooped it more than he grabbed it, like it might burn him if he touched it wrong. Once it was in his hand, he immediately turned it over, claws tracing the worn edges and the uneven grooves. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes stayed fixed on it, brows furrowing just slightly.

Echo let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, wings settling just a little lower on his back. “Yeah,” he said softly, “it’s ugly, but it does the trick.”

Cometeater didn’t answer, but he didn’t let go of it either.

The music playing overhead shifted to something slower, almost mournful. Echo didn’t recognize the track, which probably meant Dropmix had added new music again when no one was looking. There was always something kind tucked into the playlists—old frequencies of home, long-lost Cybertronian lullabies, distant echoes of a world that didn’t exist anymore.

That was another reason why Echo hadn’t been fond of the medical bay. Not only did it mean he had to sit still and wait patiently but it carried a weight. Sure, people were healed here, but so many were lost as well. The music that was meant to soothe could easily become too reminiscent of what everyone had lost.

His leg continued to bounce as he waited, after a moment of glaring at it from beneath his blue visor he managed to get it to stop. Instead he ended up fidgeting with his fingers, running his fingers over his thumb over and over as he waited. He hated waiting. Waiting for a target, for his team to respond, for someone to come rescue him, or for medical attention. It made his thoughts way too loud, then he would get distracted and people would get upset.

But sitting still and doing nothing had always made his plating itch. That was nothing new, it wasn’t somethin he had picked up from his time with Sunrazor—unlike his inability to have a solid conversation with someone. Echo had always needed to do something, otherwise it drove him crazy. Both Rumbleclutch and Leoblast argued that his inability to do nothing was why he was always getting trouble. Tempestrift said it made him reckless but fun to be around, made him more spontaneous.

Echo missed Tempestrift.

The door hissed open suddenly, pulling the blue mech out of his own thoughts. Echo’s doorwings snapped taut for a second before settling again when he saw it was just Jeopardy—the young medic’s expression taunt as he moved through the entrance with a datapad tucked under one arm, some smudged energon drying on his plating.

“Sorry for the delay,” the medic said, a little breathless. “Dropmix is still busy trying to resync someone’s fuel pump, but I can take you back, Echo.”

The sharpshooter blinked, stood slowly. His joints cracked louder than he liked. “Oh, yeah it was no problem, I didn’t mind waiting.”

He really shouldn’t lie to Jeopardy, but he hated to see the younger mech so distraught. Echo really didn’t care who saw him, it was the same either way. Despite what Jeopardy thought he often provided just as good of care as the more experienced Dropmix. He didn’t give himself credit. Echo smiled as he rolled his shoulders, wings flicking as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Jeopardy gave a warm glance to Cometeater, Echo could see something more solemn in his gaze though. “I’ll be back in just a moment, this shouldn’t take too long”

Cometeater didn’t answer, but he didn’t shrink either. Just curled the puck a little tighter into his palm and gave a small nod. That was enough for Jeopardy. The medic looked back at Echo and motioned to the open door he stood in front of. Cometeater looked up at Echo as he began to walk away, eyes widening as his hands clenched around the small puck.

Echo hesitated. Then looked back down at the green mech. He didn’t need that one anymore, Tempestrift had given him other ones, it still didn’t mean some part of him fought against parting with it. “You can keep it,” he said, nodding at the puck. He smiled, “You might find another use for it besides destroying perfectly good blankets.”

Cometeater blinked up at him, empty eyes looking over Echo once more before turning back to the object in his hold.

Echo hadn’t managed to learn much but he had confirmed one thing from the conversation. The pale green mech that had been following Jeopardy around for the past couple of weeks was an odd bot, but not a bad one.

[petrovna-zamo]

[sincerely-sofie]

Hi, I was the anon who had the idea of Skunktank running into Merit and Constance and idk if my ask made it through. I hope it didn’t, because I was not finished typing lmao-

But I imagine Skunktank doesn’t know much about Ruby’s past. She doesn’t want to talk about it. He does remember there was a period of time where Opal looked devastated, and that she wouldn’t explain what happened. Ruby showed up in Twig’s and Ark’s care not too long after. It’s only a little later he just happens to catch Ruby’s illusion waver a little, and he sees these . . . Scars. Scars that shouldn’t ever be on a child. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, that he saw it wrong, but he gnaws at the back of his head until he pulls Twig aside and tells her that maybe Ruby should be taken to the doctor, because he thinks he saw some scarring. Twig takes a deep inhale, pausing to find the words, and the longer she takes, the more dread Skunktank feels.

Eventually Twig tells him that they know about the scars, and that Ruby is recovering. She’s safe, so it’s best not to ask either of the girls about it. When Skunktank presses — out of concern, a rare sight from him — Twig tells him it’s not her story to tell. After another brief pause, she continues and says that she would appreciate it if he kept an eye out for two Hisuian Zoroarks — one normal, one shiny — always together with matching burn scars. She doesn’t want Skunktank to do anything other than tell her and Ark where they are and if they’re coming anywhere close to the village. That’s it. Do NOT do anything else. If he won’t listen for Twig, listen for Ruby and Opal.

Skunktank can’t get anymore information, so he lets it go for now. Ruby is safe and healthy, so that’s all that matters. If anyone can keep her safe, it’s legendary battler Twig and nightmare bringer Ark. It’s put in the back of his mind. Some time later, when he’s away from the village, he bumps into two Pokémon with burn scars all over their hands. When they fall, their illusions drop and reveal two Hisuian Zoroarks, their burn scars still remaining. Skunktank sees their claws, and his mind flashes back to the shape of Ruby’s scars and Twig’s warning. He knows who they are now. He looks at them, and he can’t help but feel sick. He’s nauseated. He wonders if he’s staring at another imagine of himself — a version that went too far. A version that would have just shrugged their shoulders at the thought of those little Azurill and Marill kids going into the Amp Plains to get their treasure back, uncaring if they got hurt. A version of themselves that got two kids in the form of a Mudkip and Charmander hurt.

These two are attempted murderers, free to go due to lack of evidence, leaving their baby sister with scars from a wound that it was a miracle that she survived from.

It’s no wonder Twig hates him. He’s looking into some distorted mirror — one that’s not entirely accurate, but still displays a general image — and he hates what he’s looking at too.

ANON I’M LOSING MY MIND

I did get the ask, actually! I’ve just been slowing down answering asks in general because I’m (yet again) sick as a dog, and I wanted to give that ask a more extensive, drawn response!

Here’s an incomplete teaser where Twig and Ark ask Skuntank to take Ruby out on a walk for her physical therapy while they’re stuck dealing with legal stuff. They encounter Merit and Constance while out and about.

For some bonus context, despite Ruby’s strong preference to hide her bandages (and later her scars) using illusions, she’s been instructed to avoid using illusions whatsoever. However, she’s still keeping her form of a unovan zorua secret, so she’s still using that illusion:

[kay9leo]

#MCtober2024 - Week 2

Based on @lamieboo's #MCtober2024 event (click on #MCtober for more info).

What are your MC / OC study habits?

Iñaki has a few methods of studying as you can see above. She usually doesn't like to review in groups (unless its with trusted friends) until she feels comfortable with the material on her own where she knows what she doesn't know and can bring it up to the review session. While on her own, she'll either will use flash cards, rewrite notes or teach Uturunku (her jaguar plushie) in her shared dorm room. Eventually Imelda joins in on her teaching session with Uturunku since the two girls are in the same class and share the same dorm. Once she gets more comfortable with Sebastian and Ominis as friends, you would often find Iñaki in Undercroft studying with the two boys especially when Midterm Season hits and the library is packed. She would usually be sitting on cargo crate box reviewing her flash cards or notes, waiting for the boys to show up. She also like doing reviews on charms, spells and dueling techniques with Sebastian by physically practicing them in the Undercroft.

Her other known study locations is her dorm room or the Slytherin Common Room with Sebastian when burning the midnight oil, the Room of Requirements (not often since it's out of her way) and the Great Hall with her friends who are in the other houses. She also likes white noise the noisy Great Hall provides. Iñaki vs History of Magic

Iñaki hates Professor Binns. She thinks he's the most boring-est person in the planet with how monologuist, plain and calming his voice is and hates how he can knock her to sleep. It is her goal to actually sit through class and stay up completely for once and take notes, but she can't. She always knocks out if she's trying to focus and ends up becoming Ominis' pillow once the two are friends.

At least Ominis is kind enough to share his notes with her as he takes them with a bespelled diction quill that he'll later transfigure the notes into braille. Eventually Iñaki gets her own diction quill like everyone else in class does.

After a couple of classes with Prof. Binns, Iñaki will eventually accept that she's either going to nap in this class period or try to get ahead and do homework from her other classes with her enhanced earbud on to listen to music while her diction quill does the work of taking notes down.

Iñaki's Girl Crew

Iñaki becomes especially close to Natty, Poppy and Imelda for different reasons:

Natty is the first friend Iñaki made while at Hogwarts. She and Natty bond over living in a foreign country far from their homelands and learning to live in a different world. Natty's friendship is important to Iñaki because she is one of the few people who really gets what Iñaki is going through and the same is true vice versa. It isn't surprising to see one going to the other to have a good cry over missing their homeland. Natty also was the one who helped her finish her animagus training in secret and saw her transform into a jaguar for the first time. At one point, the two would go running in the Forbidden Forest in their animagus form, baffling any locals as to where a gazelle and a giant cat came from. Natty is also the first person Iñaki says is her friend.

Poppy's friendship with Iñaki began after defending the kneazle in class. After they partnered up in Beasts class that same day, the rest became history. Poppy enjoys Iñaki's frank and playful nature and Iñaki's enjoyed Poppy's bluntness and kindness (it reminds her of home). The two girls end up bonding over being oddballs, caring for beasts and going over the different magical beasts and their tales around the world. Poppy especially loves it when Iñaki tells her stories about the magical beasts native to the Americas that you wouldn't be able to find in Europe and ends up making it a goal to see the thunderbird that lives near Niagara Falls one day.

Imelda Reyes at first is Iñaki's roommate. For about five minutes until Iñaki grumbles in Spanish "¡Ay!¡Por el amor de Dios! after stubbing her toe against her misplaced suitcase as she was moving in a week later after arriving at Hogwarts. Imelda was surprised to learn that the American spoke Spanish. Iñaki didn't realize Imelda was Spanish (Imelda holds duel Scottish-Spanish citizenship) and spoke Spanish as well. They became friends like a house on fire due to their Hispanic heritage (Iñaki's family is originally from Latin America who immigrated to the US. Imelda's father was the one who moved their family to the UK when he went play on Puddlemere United to be close with them). They only speak Spanish to each other as it makes them feel at home as they both miss speaking it while at Hogwarts (There's very few Spanish speakers there). The two spend a lot of time talking about their Hispanic Heritage while comparing and contrasting the differences in the cultures (Iñaki' is bicultural as her Latino roots hails from two different countries) and the Spanish language as well.

When Imelda found out that Iñaki has family in South America (but didn't realize Iñaki was a first generation/muggleborn witch) she immediately assumed Iñaki was good at quidditch due to the sport culture in that continent (quidditch is essentially the magical equivalent to soccer/fútbol) and tricked her into trying out for the team in having Iñaki play in pick-up quidditch games since it didn't seem like she wasn't going to try out because she seemed nervous about it (in Imelda's eyes). The moment Iñaki realized what Imelda was doing, she calls Imelda out and the two end up having a frank discussion as to why Iñaki didn't play quidditch (American racism is the reason why - Iñaki didn't want to play into the stereotypes and found she couldn't really enjoy playing the sport back in New York) despite being good at it (Iñaki played with her first-generation/muggleborn mage cousins on both sides of the famiy as a kid and picked up the sport pretty fast). In the end Imelda helps Iñaki get over her prior reservations on playing the sport but not enough for Iñaki to play as a starter. Iñaki ends up playing as the reserve chaser though and ends up as a starter in sixth year during her last year at Hogwarts.

The four girls accidently become a friend group through a class project. Iñaki had them all meet at the Three Broomsticks to discuss what they would be doing and it spiraled to the four girls realizing they were outsiders in different ways as they talked about their lives and bonded over feeling like a fish out of water at times with their peers. They ended up making outing to the Three Broomsticks for lunch to be a weekly thing after their class project was done as all four became close friends with each other.

...

More on Iñaki "MC" Martinez Cariaga

[definitelynotshouting]

I’d say I love you

in reference to this post

@corvidaearts and i are hashing out the colours right now, but the wings are from their updated hunger au Watcher design, the refs of which you can find here!!!