#warriors is the team medic

[anicomicqueen]

The sketch for this has been sitting in my folder for like a year....^^'

It's time for me to release it into the wild

I believe I had been reading some sickfics for Wild at the time and, well, I know I just missed Sicktember, but here (@ whoever is out there in the wild)

Have a Wars who fell asleep watching over a feverish Wild during the night

I like to imagine nightmares and a fear of people leaving him were somehow involved but that's just me

(Was a blanket cheating? ... Yes. It very much was)

[luna-loveboop]

I love how warriors is the one who always asks paramedic-style questions when someone’s hurt

He’s asking questions not just to distract, but to see how bad the wound has impacted mental functioning “maybe we should be worried, because that’s not what I asked”

Calling by name to draw attention, asking easy questions…

Like look at his face in each panel, how closely he’s watching while talking to assess the damage

He’s always the one taking action in first aid (though obviously he can’t do magic stuff like hyrule but outside of that it’s him)

Wars is a captain, he’s trained and has had to take care of wounded, so he knows how to take care of not only the physical but the mental impact of injuries as well, and he always comes through for it.

I just kinda think that’s pretty cool

(Credit to Linkeduniverse au)

[cheebuss]

nine of the worst assholes on the earth (i love and cherish all of them dearly)

redraw/redesigns for TF2 kitties I drew almost 10 years ago!

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... J'onn broke the news that Danny thinks he's going to be forced into combat in exchange for his medical care. Everyone disliked that™.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

COME GET YOUR NEW ART HERE 💥🍳!!💥 IT'S FIBERCRAFT!!Shoutout to @rainbowbeansprout for crocheting a fic accurate injured ghost Danny!! That's outstanding!!

💚👻👽👻💚

So, Wally broke all of the bones in his legs yesterday.

Which is…not ideal. Still. He’s pretty used to it at this point, though, and he’s already mostly healed.

It’s just that. Well.

…The rest of healing is kind of…time-consuming.

So Wally’s in basketball shorts and a mask and a t-shirt he’d started using as pajamas when he was in college and he’s on the med floor of the Watchtower, and yet another physical therapist is helping him bend his leg back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, because he’d tripped in the middle of the Speedforce and busted everything hip-down.

So. (Back, and forth. Back, and forth. Back…) This sucks.

“Do we have to do this every time?” Wally asks, as if there isn’t a team of medical professionals kept on hand to deal with Superpower-wrought Super Medical Problems.

“Do you have to shatter your legs every time?” the PT asks back wryly, which, hey! The pressure pressing up against his bare foot is an additional stressor to the sass. “Bend this more for me, Flash. You can do it.”

Wally grumbles, and pretends the angle his leg is bending at doesn’t make him wince. Wow is he going to have to build his flexibility back up again.

The physical therapy room looks just like any other gym, basically; a lot of squishy mats in playful colors, a lot of grippy tape; a LOT of wipeable vinyl surfaces that can be sanitized at a moment’s notice. It smells kind of weird and plasticky and kind of like alcohol cleaner.

It’s not his favorite room in the Watchtower, but, eh. It could be way worse. What’s unusual is the whirrr of the door opening and closing in one of the private care rooms for another patient, since, you know...HIPAA and all that. Wally assumes. Or is it costume confidentiality once you leave Earth's atmosphere...?

Usually everyone knows who’s stopping in for PE through the sheer power of the Justice League gossip groupchats. (There’s at least nine. Wally’s in four of them. He aspires to be in two more by April.) There hasn’t been a big fight that requires long-term medical care in a while, and there’s no one Wally can think of who’d need this kind of recovery.

Something’s buzzing at the outside of his awareness, though. It sounds kind of…

Wally perks up. “Hey, the alien kid’s here!”

The PT holding Wally up at the waist hums. Her name is Cindy, and judging from their previous conversations, she thinks that Wally is the dumbest man alive. “There’s a million of those, Flash. Which one?”

“The one who bit Superman,” Wally adds.

Judging by the face Cindy makes, this clarifies nothing.

“Most recently,” Wally stresses, carefully not wincing as his leg gets stretched out again, only to be pulled back into position as tightly as before. “OW. Cindy, you’re killing me.”

Cindy makes a strangled noise. She asks: “What, again?” which is how Wally remembers that he got torn back out of the time stream not all that long ago, and it may be a big gauche to joke about your own death with the people who care about it.

Whoops. Wally winces. “…Nevermind?”

The other PTs make various fussy and annoyed noises, but the alien kid is wheeled onto the other side of the medical floor’s only gym. (The actual training floors are on another level. Wally wishes he was there. Alone.)

(Without four PTs clinging to his legs at all times.)

Wally waves. It’s a nice enough gesture, and now that the alien-phantasm-turned-flesh-and-blood-boy is more physically embodied than he used to be, the boy even deigns to carefully wave back.

The kid’s PTs—Wally thinks at least one of them is from the team that supervises Bart and his super-powered-leg-problems—end up encouraging the alien kid’s chair round to the soft mats where the kid can lay down. He ends up in the exact same position Wally is—horizontal on the floor, legs forcibly pinwheeled by enthusiastic but firm PTs.

Wally can physically feel the kid’s astonishment and discontentment buzzing in the air as he figures out what’s being done to him. Wally can’t help but laugh.

The kid angles his head towards the speedster. His face still looks—well, it looks…bad. It looks bad, unhealed and still threatening to weep neon green body fluids; there’s a wet, living crack running up and down his face that makes eye contact kind of hard. His hands are all spidery—this kid can probably hold and grip things, but the previous breakage have left his hands a little too easy to splay, a little too oddly-angled. He’s too thin to keep himself fully upright for long. When he looks at you, his eyes shake like a poorly lined-up television signal.

Martian Manhunter had said that he’d once looked like a healthy, happy human child. His current form is a reflection of the injuries he’d experienced since.

...What a thing for a kid to go through. Wally wouldn’t wish this sort of injury on anyone.

“­Alright, up you go,” the PT above him—Rhys, Wally remembers at the very last second—orders, and Wally is prompted to let the man help him back upright. “Over to the bars for you. You think your legs are up to bearing that kind of weight as you try out walking?”

“…Sure,” Wally lies to Rhys. It’ll be fine. Probably. By the time he gets over there, his legs might have already speed-healed by then. “Hand me the—?”

“Yeah, yeah, here’s the crutches. Don’t destroy yourself trying to make this happen, okay?”

So Wally gets set up at the glorified playground equipment in his least restrictive gym clothes, one long iron bar under one arm, and one long iron bar under the other. Two full-size physical therapists spot him as the speedster completes the most strenuous task available to him at the moment: walking across a very short distance without putting his full weight on his legs.

Wally puts one shaking leg in front of the other. The steps are slow. The urge to zoom to the end of the little bowling lane he’s stuck in—and therefore shatter his legs under the speedforce, again—is irresistibly temping.

Healing sucks. And Wally’s even got the longer end of the stick.

In the end, Wally sticks the landing. He is unreasonably sweaty. He is miserable. But he makes it to the end. Every one of the witnessing PTs applauds as if this is a great success. It’s literally not. It’s the inevitable result of pushing himself too far for the third time this year.

A question buzzes through the air, fluffing through Wally’s hair and the little fine hairs up and down his body. It’s nothing but inquisitive—whatareyoudoing whatareyoudoing?

Wally lets the PT maneuver a chair underneath him. It gives him enough breathing room to turn his upper torso, and he ends up catching the eye of the little alien kid in the corner. He’s sat on a yoga ball, two members of his medical team and one of the kids’ PTs trying to get his attention back to his exercises.

“Hey,” Wally realizes suddenly. “Your casts are gone!”

The kids’ legs are actually bare, which Wally’s never seen before. They’re twiggy, sure, stretched taut over a bone frame, and discolored and pale, but they’re legs. Wally hadn’t even known the alien had possessed legs until he’d formed a physical body months and months ago.

“Dude, that’s great!”

Happy/smug/proud vibrates through the room, making Wally’s teeth buzz. The kid smiles through a half-split lip, and bounces on the yoga ball ever so slightly.

“Good,” the kid says, surprising Wally, his PTs, and the kid’s usual medical team. He was talking already?! He thought J’onn had said—

“Hurt?” the boy asks, concern/concern flooding through the air. Oh. Right. He’s probably here for his busted legs; it would make sense that by virtue of the setting, Wally would be injured too.

And, sure, Wally busted his legs, but he at least heals with all the swiftness of the speedforce. “Meh.” Wally waves off the question. “I’m fine. It’ll be quick for me; some rehab and some lunch and a few days off, and I’ll be in shipshape.”

Wait. Wally’s eyes scrunches up. Is using wordplay appropriate with this kid…?

“Pain?” the kid asks, and turned his attention to the closest member of his medical team. “He pain?”

The medical professional sighs, which finally clues Wally in that the man is no longer masked. Hey, the kid is out of medical isolation! “The Flash has his own medication, thankfully. His doctors know what to do.”

The kid frowns. He doesn’t get it. He looks at Wally, and he looks at the staffer, who shrugs. “It’s the usual indicator word he uses for pain medication. He’s wondering if you’re hurt enough to need some.”

Wally hums. On one hand, it’s sweet that the alien kid is worried about him. It’s a huge step upwards from the alien who spent all his time hiding in abandoned meeting rooms and occasionally biting Superheroes.

On the other hand, the kid doesn’t just look worried that Wally might not be getting care; he looks scared.

Something happened to this kid. Something he can't shake off.

Wally breathes in, and breathes out.

—And breathes in sharply when Cindy starts wiggling his feet. She doesn’t respond at all to his glare, because she is a professional, and he is not a big baby of a superhero.

Mean.

“I’m fine,” Wally finally responds, trying to alleviate the kid’s concerns through sheer vibes-telepathy alone. Who knows if it’s working, but it makes Wally feel better about trying at the very least. “I’ve got my own team to fix me up, and they do a good job of taking care of me. Even if they’re bullying me at my most vulnerable.”

“Anything for you, boss,” Cindy volleys back cheerfully. “Gimme your other leg.”

The tension in the air slowly dissipates. The kid doesn’t stop shooting occasional looks at the unadorned, half-out-of-uniform Flash, but he does let Bart’s little PT team get to working on stretching out his previously-bound now-physical legs and getting him upright—if only for a few seconds at a time, balanced precariously by humans who actually touch his back and arms and hips and legs.

Wally’s session wraps up before the kid’s does. He’s not in any rush. He gets onto the walking crutches Rhys leaves out for his temporary use and lopes over to watch, occasionally hooting and applauding when the kid pulls off something no one’d been sure he could do.

The double handed high-five Wally offers him at the end is punctuated with shaky eye contact, two working hands, and a green-threaded beaming grin.

*

Diana cheerfully digs into her kebab lunch, plastic cutlery pushed to their maximum limit before threatening to break under her prodigious strength. “You know, Batman,” she starts, beaming, “My charge gave me his name the other day.”

Bruce sets down his muenster-ham-and-whole-wheat sandwich mid-bite. “I’ll need to hear everything,” he says immediately, to which Diana tuts.

“Oh, Batman, I could never break his trust like that,” she says, sweet as anything. She finesses a bite of lamb from the skewer and takes a neat bite.

“…Wonder Woman,” Batman says.

“Hm?”

“Diana.”

“Is there something you needed, Bruce?” Diana asks, pleased with herself. There genuinely is very little that could be done with a vague description of a now-altered human form and a first name alone; besides, she genuinely does feel that hearing the boy’s name come from others’ lips would be upsetting for him. Danny offered his name to Diana alone, and so it shall remain until hers alone he offers it to others.

Still, she is not above bragging.

“I need information.” Bruce’s face underneath his mask is stone.

Diana dips a second chunk of lamb into a little container of tzatziki sauce. “Well, then,” she points out, “Shouldn’t you spend some time building rapport with my charge, then?”

The feared Batman of Gotham, father of a half-dozen highly trained heroes, bristles like a wet cat. The demeanor is almost comical. He knows what he looks like to non-Gothamite children. He knows his suit will make this fight for common familiarity an uphill battle.

Diana smugly works through her lunch and ignores Bruce’s silent brooding as he does the same.

[thepicklejair]

[aprofessionalwithoutstandards]

Kind of obsessed with the cinematic parallels tbh

[Image IDs: One image of official Warriors art and one from the tf2 comic. The Warriors art shows Scourge dramatically slashing at Tigerstar's stomach. The tf2 comic panel shows Medic slicing at Cheavy's face with his bonesaw, with "slash" written in big red text as an action descriptor. End ID]

[call-me-zee]

Team Fortress 2? More like Team Fortress MEW! I turned the tf2 mercs into warrior cats

Artwork under keep reading

[camellia-salazar]

Exhibit D,

TEAM FORTESS 2 IM BACK BABYYYYY

Ahem, sorry.

RED and BLU respectively.

I was gonna have BLU look like RED but with blue accessories instead of red, but I also wanted to see if I could change their fur colors depending on team, y'know, cause they're technically different people and all. That and I wanted to tinker with alternative fur colors, patterns, and eye colors slightly. I might tinker with them more.

I was also drawing Merasmus, Saxxton, and the Administrator, but I couldn't get them right, so I settled with this, for now, at least. I know there's only one Miss P, but I added her to both teams because idk it just felt fair.

That's it on the Warriors run. I will be posting something later today.

Extras:

Regular gray bg just so the other bgs don't distract you.

Transparent because it feels wrong leaving them out.

Backgrounds because they are literally my favorite I've done ever. Especially the blue one.

Ngl this game got me on a chokehold this entire month-

[meringuebuttercookie]

My old drawings (they are so ugly *sobs*)

[slugzillla]

Spy (Foxface) and Sniper (Wildstep)

[evilminji]

"DO BETTER!" Says Now Televised Fanboy

He, Dash Baxter is a Phan-Stan!! It's kinda his thing. See, he's a fancy ass talk show host now. Married Paulie, moved out of Amity, actually DID something with his life. His parents? Did not approve. Long n short of it? He got kicked out.

Paulie's parents were PISSED.

Retaliated by giving him all the help he needed getting EVERY scholarship he qualified for. He went to a really nice college. Missed his girlfriend like mad. But she was off in Metropolis, terrifying weaker men. Conquering the fashion scene.

And SOMEHOW? Thanks to that long talk he had with Phantom (*incoherent fanboy gibbering noises* SO COOL!) he's worked to be... more of a LEADER, you know? Less of an asshole. Cause he's popular. People copy him. He can't be an asshole.

So, somehow, when he's punching out some try-hard that thinks he's hot shit for bullying a Nerd? He and the nerd get talking, right? Cause the guy got his glasses completely fucked up. And it's what Phantom would do.

But GET THIS? Guy's never HEARD of Phantom! Is super curious, cause he runs a small time Hero's show on the web. And, Dude? Is it your LUCKY DAY! Cause you just met THE number 1 fan of Phantom, hands down!! He makes his VERY spirited case, about why Phantom is THE best Hero to ever have lived. And this guy?

Entranced.

In AWE.

Just straight up BEGS him to join his show. Cause apparently? He was BORN for it. Which? Yeah. He HAS been giving speechs to the team for YEARS now. And Talking at fan meet ups. Leading fan meet ups. Hosting parties... actually, now that he thinks about it? He DOES do a lot of public speaking? Huh.

But still, he's about to say "no", when?

Dude mentions? He'll get to talk about Phantom.

SOLD!

It. Blows. Up. Absolutely EVERYONE is in love with his pretty face, hot bod, and STRONG opinions. But they ALSO have no idea who Phantom is! Paulie! This is CRIMINAL! Horrifying! What is going ON!?

Some bullshit information black out, apparently. At least according to her... friendly Nemesis? The Goth Dweeb. Who's engaged, apparently? So good for her. Unsurprisingly, it's too the OTHER Dweebs, but still. Bout time she started planning to drag them to a court house. She's the only one with any spine in that group! If she waited for THEM to propose?

Not even as Ghosts, man.

They'd get distracted by shiny nerd shit and whimp out.

Still... a world where NO ONE knows how Awesome, Phantom is? Not on HIS watch!

So he works it in. To every segment. It becomes "his thing". Oh? Super man saved a kitten from a tree? Cute. Well PHANTOM saved a bus full of Ghost Puppies from a shady, rouge, Goverment agency. Do BETTER, Superman!

The Flash, who is a cheap knock-off and stole his name, took down an Ice Villian? Adorable! PHANTOM stopped a Rouge WINTER SPIRIT with the help of YETI WARRIORS then assisted in giving FREE medical care for anyone who needed it! Here's a picture of him making GHOST ICE SNOWMEN for small children! Do BETTER, Knock-off!

What's THAT you say? Wonder Woman fought a GOD in down town paris?

Excellent work Wonder Woman. Flawless as always. But YOU, god-boy, are a disappointment! All that power! And WHAT do you use it for? Are you even supposed to BE here?? PHANTOM uses his power to HELP people! Is awesome and knows TONS of better gods! You're just salty you didn't make the cut!

DO BETTER!

And obviously? No one believes him. There's no record of this "Phantom" guy. The pictures look fantastical and vaguely glitchy/glowy. Not quite right. They GOTTA be photo shopped. Manipulated somehow. But? As a shtick? A fake "perfect Superhero" is kinda funny and unique.

And it's one hell of Fake Hero!

A Dead Champion? Who fights gods and monsters? Rouge agencies? Sassy and tragic? With a mysterious past? Pretty cool! There's even an Offical Comic from some guy that went to the same high-school as Baxter!

Of course, as Baxter get more and more popular? The "meme" hero, Phantom, get more well known? People get more interested in where Dash grew up. You know, just a bored Google. Maybe see if the hero was based off a local legend or something. But... huh...

The Town website?

Weirdly? Sanitized.

Like... like aggressively sanitized. All smooth edges and no details. Very "move along, citizen". Ha ha... it's part of the joke right? They get it! They'll just look up local restaurants or som-....

Wait...

Hey, guuuuys?

Are you finding ANYTHING?

And! Nothing. And I do mean NOTHING! Triggers the "oh? Secrets???" Instincts of a Hacker, like finding a hard blank wall of "KEEP OUT". Especially when it's somewhere it rightfully shouldn't BE.

All it would take? Is ONE person, of decent skills and an account on Certain Forums, getting bored enough to Google the Dude On The TV(TM)? For the GIW's lil walls to come crashing down. Because yeah, you can stop ONE hacker. Even two. Probably five or six.

But how about thousands?

Hundreds of thousands?

From every time zone. Competing. Just to see what you HAVE and don't want them to see. Maybe they do something with it, maybe they don't. But fuck it, you're being RUDE and now they're CURIOUS. And THEN? Oh. Oh holy shit.

Not a meme.

Very real.

Not a joke.

The walls come crumbling down, down, down. Ripped apart by hundreds of hands. Emails sent to every sort of agency. The JLU line inundated with emergency tips. Not a joke. Not A Joke. Holy Shit, IT WASN'T A JOKE!

Phantom is REAL!

And there, on TV, stands the Man. The signal FINALLY breaching containment. Fighting off the invading God of the week. Built like statue, hair like an aurora borealis of white fire held almost delicately in place by a CROWN of ice, a suit made of void and starlight. Inhuman. Beyond human.

Here to help.

A laugh that crackles like ice and the snap of winter, rolls through the air like coming storms, rich and somehow warm. A smile that bares teeth, yet turns so KIND when he looks upon humanity, as though we are precious and worth fighting for. A living star.

A... a once living star.

And in the center of it all? Wearing his BESPOKE, custome made, Number 1 Phan full body outfit? That's right. Dash Baxter. Ha! You fuckers doubted him! Behold his blorbo and WEEP, ya fuckin casuals! The BESTEST of boys! The FINEST of Heros! Superman? Could NEVER.

And now? The weather!

@babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation

[everything-maxriemelt]

some of the players looked seriously tired tonight - more mentally than physically, I suspect. The team has been running on fumes for weeks now. We constantly needed to pull a miracle or a worldie to save ourselves even to mid-table teams, and then getting frustrated by the two Manure games.

i have to say, i don’t think we can turn this around. the second leg will be a 0-0 draw or 1-0 results either way.

for the fans who were mad at FSG and decided to protest on an European night, I am speechless. i am heartbroken if this is the send off we are going to give Klopp. He deserves better.

'we all jump on players when they lose'

yes because losing shows the underlying factors that went under the winning that came before hand, it brings them to the front and we have to confront them. We've never been good at finishing and it's cost us twice in one week - a problem that needs serious adressing

[cheebuss]

Low quality compile of all my designs for the Support Classes of my silly TF2/Warrior Cats crossover hehe (i fucked up with RED Sniper because I did him first and didn't think i'd do everyone else so him and BLU Sniper are facing away on the line up lol)

[tossawary]

I wish we saw more casual diversity among Vulcans in regards to... well, everything: fashion, art, history, geography, language, religion and philosophy, occupations, familial units, and logical styles and emotional management, and so on. The monoculture that "Star Trek" tends towards is both unrealistic and kind of boring.

(I think that my ideal "Star Trek" show would have a minimum of two matching non-humans in the main crew who are from opposite sides of their planet; these two alien coworkers have almost NOTHING in common. It immediately creates compelling character dynamics.)

Anyway, even within the specific Surakian Logic sect that Spock and his family seem to belong to, there's still opportunity for fun, divisive hobbies among this particular group of Vulcans. We can have judgey Vulcans looking at other Vulcans' weird, harmless antics and saying, "What illogical behavior," while the other Vulcans are judging them back for being illogical in their own opinion. Let Vulcans be REAL nerds: I think that pre-Surak historical reenactment is not an uncommon hobby, both casual LARPing and hardcore reenactment.

It's educational to spin and weave and sew your own pre-Surakian garments! It's educational to forge your own weaponry! It's grounding, like meditation! It is humbling to truly realize the complicated labor involved in fabrication. Even when they were surrendering to their emotional urges, you know, Vulcan ancestors were not completely illogical: they knew how to fashion a comfortable garment well-suited to the desert. Camping in the wilderness and foraging for food connects oneself to nature, teaches about history, and settles oneself in the present.

Also, it's good physical exercise and emotionally cathartic to beat the shit out of each other with foam-wrapped lirpa, screaming at the top of your lungs. It's very logical. There's a medical team on standby, reading on their pads and drinking tea.

You beam down in the wrong part of the desert at the right time and find a bunch of scantily-clad Vulcan warriors (outfits depend on the chosen time period and location) (of all genders) shrieking and rolling in the dirt, until a timer goes off, and then the scheduled mock-battle is over and everyone helps each other up. (Depends how hardcore the group is, of course.) (Also, yeah, obviously, some of these groups have a hook-up culture attached / embedded.) Two bleeding guys who were previously punching each other in the face salute each other and part ways, one to go write a new archeological paper based on his findings here ("Fascinating") and the other to his low-level government desk job ("Most invigorating exercise").

If this happens anywhere near where people live, then the neighbors are shaking their heads and saying to each other, "I don't know how anyone could come to their conclusions and call it logical. Their foundational premises must be flawed." 😐 Some of them while closely watching the entire scandalous affair through binoculars and telescopes, of course. 🤔

[thepicklejair]

Uhm...dropping the content of my AU 💥

Tf2 + warrior cats

Mercs edition

👇

Scout

* Clan name - RunningBat

* Born - Kittypet house

* Current clan - Windclan

* Role - young warrior

* Design done ?

( X ) yes

( ) no

* Backstory done ?

( X ) yes

( ) no

------------------

Spy

* Clan name - SilentClaw

* born - Riverclan

* current clan - Riverclan

* role - Warrior

* design done ?

( X ) yes

( ) no

* backstory done ?

( X ) yes

( ) no

------------------

Medic

* Clan name - PigeonFeather

* born - Shadowclan

* current clan - Exiled

* role - Medicine cat

* design done?

(X)yes

( ) no

* backstory done?

(X)yes

( ) no

---------------

Heavy

* Clan name - HeavyStep

* born - Thunderclan

* current clan - Thunderclan

* role - Warrior

* design done?

(X)yes

( ) no

* backstory done?

(X)yes

( ) no

---------------

Sniper

* Clan name - BushTail

* born - Skyclan

* current clan - Windclan

* role - Warrior

* design done?

( )yes

( X ) no

* backstory done?

(X)yes

( ) no

---------------

Soldier

* Clan name - RacoonStripe

* born - Thunderclan

* current clan - Thunderclan

* role - Warrior (He thinks he's the dep)

* design done?

(X) yes

() no

* backstory done?

( ) yes

( X ) no

---------------

Demoman

* Clan name - SmokeFur

* born - Thunderclan

* current clan - Thunderclan

* role - Warrior

* design done?

( ) yes

( X ) no

* backstory done?

( ) yes

( X ) no

---------------

Engineer

* name - Dell / Engie

* born - farm

* current clan - farm

* role - rogue

* design done?

(X)yes

() no

* backstory done?

(X)yes

() no

---------------

Pyro

* name - Pyro

* born - streets

* current clan - farm

* role - rogue

* design done?

( )yes

( X ) no

* backstory done?

( )yes

( X ) no

[bones4thecats]

Henlo! Could I request some headcanons where Cooler, Frieza, Android 17, and Gohan get the "If anything happens, I love you" message from their S/O? Maybe S/O was away for a little while before getting into a dangerous situation, but is found injured but alive.

Their S/O Gets Severely Injured

Characters: Cooler, Frieza, Android 17 and Gohan Requester: ❤️‍🩹Anon A/N: I now nickname you ❤️‍🩹Anon, since your prompt is about y’know… healing and whatnot. Anyways, this is my first Dragon Ball piece so I do not guarantee that they are all in character, so warning there I guess. By the way, in Gohan's piece, the reader is female since y'know... Pan and all. Now, enjoy, I guess!

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»————————————- 　 Cooler　 ————————————-««

🧊 When Cooler first inherited his portion of his family's army, he wasn't amused with how small it was. But, when comparing his power to his younger brother's, it was understandable why it was so differentiating when it comes to size

🧊 Thankfully, his father, King Cold, was kind enough to give him the district that you, his darling S/O of many years, lead with a high amount of nobility and pride

🧊 Cooler has been away for a while when you were sent out by Frieza to cover a nearby planet and either gain their trust or completely annihilate them without any mercy. It was truly your call there

🧊 But, when he returned to see that you and your band of armored warriors were missing and have been for a few hours, Cooler began to become nervous. You were never gone this long when taking care of some minor business on Frieza, King Cold, or even Cooler's orders

" Lord Frieza! There seems to be a misreading! "

" What do you mean by a misreading? " Frieza questioned, a sense of annoyance and a very small amount of curiosity laced him his already pissy tone.

" It seems that the planet we sent Section 213 to is full of powerful fire-demons, much like us! "

" What?! "

🧊 After hearing this, your lover demanded to see your coordinates and send out another section, Section 89, out to find you and your teammates. And while his younger sibling attempted to reassure him of your team's power, Cooler merely pushed him aside and began to descend with Section 89 right behind him

🧊 Once landed, Cooler began to fight with the team following suite, knocking each beast aside with relative average stats. While it took on average two or three members per monster, they were taking care of them relatively quick

" Y/N? Y/N, where the hell are you?! "

" She's over here, Master Cooler! "

🧊 Running at a high-speed that could be compared to the super-saiyan's, Cooler stopped in his tracks when seeing your bruised and cut-up body. You had a large gash on the side of your stomach, and he could tell from a mere few feet away that you needed immediate medical assistance

🧊 Once returned, Cooler yelled for the healers to fix you. Though, it was hard for them to focus with both Frieza and Cooler glaring at them from behind. Frieza was only there because he couldn't afford to lose a powerful warrior and by-far one of the most talented fighters he had left after the battle on Namek

🧊 At some point, the doctor had to push the two outside, which was where Cooler stayed while tyrannical emperor left to sort out the rest of his ship from the chaos

" Master Cooler. Your S/O is all patched up. "

" And? "

" They will make it perfectly well. They'll just need a few days of healing. They're quite lucky. If they were a mere Yardrat or Tuffle they'd most likely be beyond any kind of help. "

" Good. Now, leave. I must see them for myself. "

" Understood. "

🧊 While he sat down in a seat right beside your medical bed, Cooler just sighed and ran a hand across your cheek, which had multiple cuts and bruises, not to mention a slight burn that reached from your chin to your forehead in a straight line. Oh, how awful was it on that damned planet?

🧊 You'll tell him when you wake up. Yes you will. But for now, Cooler can lay his head down on your bed and rest for a bit before you awaken form your long-overdue power-nap

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»»————————————- 　 Frieza　 ————————————-««

🏔️ Frieza has hated being in Hell for the many years he was wrapped up like a larvae becoming a butterfly or moth and sung to like a baby by cutesy-bears and fairies. Due to this, he had a ton of pent-up anger. Which, while he did not mean it, he had accidentally taken out on a small fraction of his army

🏔️ From this lose in members, Frieza had no choice but to send out one of his best teams; Team Y/N. Which just so happened to be led by his favorite soldier and his one and only spouse, Y/N

🏔️ Before you and your team evacuated to check for any signs of life on the now-destroyed and bare wasteland that was once a prosperous land, you had left a solid message for your husband. One that he would forever regret not telling you in person

" If anything happens, I love you? That cheesy moron... "

" As if you are any better, brother. "

" Shut it, Cooler! "

🏔️ You and your team had just barely landed when one of them was snatched away with stupendous speed. This kind of speed was alarming to you and your underlings, causing a couple of them to panic and get snatched themselves

🏔️ Meanwhile on the ship, a fairly-rounded serving demon was observing the life-monitors that laid within each Frieza's Force member's body. And once he noticed the way they were immediately falling like flies, his tail feathers erupting and knocking his chair back, alarming his Highness

" What is going on down there?! " Frieza barked.

" Team Y/N is getting pummeled, killed even! We need to send people down there- now! "

🏔️ Frieza stood abruptly and ordered for the guards to follow him, after all, backup is necessary almost wherever the dangerous man went. Especially when it came to the safety of his lover

🏔️ Once landed, the sight of four out of the seven members of your team being impaled on the elongated tongues of horrifying and demonic-appearing beasts caused the Emperor of the Universe's heart to start racing. You better not have been harmed!

🏔️ The male raised his hand and sent a large beam of energy soaring at the monster, causing it's tongue to come flying off of it's mouth. The smell from it's blood was rancid, but if smelling this meant that you would be safe, then so be it

🏔️ You were located a mere few feet away, hiding behind a large boulder structure by Frieza. And once he picked you up, he rushed back to the ship, his men and yours following as they sent many beams at the creatures as they attempted to follow suit

🏔️ Back on the ship, Frieza sat in his room as the doctor healed you up. While he would love to be there for his dearest, the sight of their beaten and bloody body was by-far the only thing keeping him away from the Cui-copy's work

🏔️ The sound of his door being knocked on made him stand and ready himself, putting on his cool and composed facial expression before opening the door, ready to scold and possibly punish the soldier for daring to interrupt the most powerful being in the ship. How he would do so was already pulsating through his mind

" What is it you want? I am clearly in the middle of business. "

" Wow, you're seeming extra nice today. Are you sad I was hurt by that behemoth of a beast? "

🏔️ A small crack of his voice was heard as Frieza opened his eyes to see you standing there with a highly-functional mechanical cast around your leg, a small amount of pre-obtained energy holding your leg up and behind you in a position as if you were kneeling on one side

" Y/N... Why aren't you healing in the medbay?! I was about to come visit you! "

" Uh-huh. C'mon, the doctor said I needed to fix up my other leg's walking anyways! " Sarcasm was highly detecatble in your tone, causing Frieza to be slightly annoyed. Why are you being so calm?!

" That doesn't matter- "

" Yeah, yeah. Anyways, you got any wine back there? "

" W-what?! By what I remember, taking in alcohol, no matter the kind, with medication could cause someone to... overdose, if I remember correctly. "

" Aw~ Are you still worried about me?~ "

" S-shut it! Just- get in here already... you're a pain. "

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»»——————————- 　 Android 17　 ——————————-««

🐈‍⬛ This guy knew how dangerous this Tournament was, so why was he now just wondering why the enemy was being so tough on you, it was obvious that you were beaten, so why was he continuing?!

" Hey! He's going to far! "

" Y/N, hang in there! "

🐈‍⬛ Everyone's calls were only enraging your husband even farther as he fought against another Universe 5 fighter while you dealt with the other two dogs

🐈‍⬛ The yellow one, Lavender, has thrown so much of his poisonous energy at you that it was beginning to make your joints slow down, which alarmed the rest of your teammates. Hell, even Frieza was nervous at the sight- you had the amount of power that could level up to defeat him!

" Why you damned wolf! "

🐈‍⬛ Holding your hand up as you canceled out every sound around you, the slight movements of feet with fur and claws was the only thing you would allow through. This meant you would be able to both dodge and hit the remaining beast-men back with ease

" Take this! "

🐈‍⬛ Gripping his hand in yours, you could feel the poison rush through your body, but the feeling was numb to you, the amount of venom in your system seemingly muted out anymore seeping through your thick-skin

" Wait, what the hell?! "

🐈‍⬛ Android 17 smirked and jumped up before kicking the blue wolf, Bergamo, in your direction while you powered a whip of energy before wrapping Basil and Lavender up as you twirled them around and threw them away, grabbing Bergamo on the way as they soared back and off the edge of the field, resulting in a Universe 7 win

🐈‍⬛ 17 ran up to you and wrapped his arms around you before you were teleported back up to your teammates for a small intermission granted by Zeno upon Goku's request

" What were you thinking? "

" About the survival of our home, and our family. "

" And while I appreciate that, Y/N, you must be more careful with your limits. I don't need another Goku around. "

" Hey! "

🐈‍⬛ Hearing you chuckle as Whis laid his staff on your forehead before booping you and releasing your body of the poison's affects made your husband smile gently and hold you close as Universe 7's angel chanted with an 'all better now!'

" Don't you ever scare me like that again, you hear? "

" Nope, you forgot a couple of things in that sentence there, mister. "

" Why you... alright. Please don't ever scared me like that again. I love you to much for that to happen. "

" That's better. "

🐈‍⬛ While you laid your foreheads upon one another's, the sound of Goku and Frieza gagging in the back caused you to laugh as 17 just sighed like a disappointed father

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»»————————————- 　 Gohan　 ————————————-««

📚 Unlike his father, Gohan was primarily focused on his work and studies growing up. Putting his training behind for helping his family of his wife, Y/N, and his young daughter, Pan, prosper in life

📚 You on the other hand, adored to fight. As you were raised by your favorite person on Earth, who also just so happened to be a fellow descendant of the Three-Eyed People, Tien Shinhan

📚 As Pan grew older, you would help Piccolo and others train her, teaching her valuable lessons in minor training for her human-side while Piccolo handled her more alien side, which came from your husband

📚 Gohan knew that sometimes you would go out and about with his father's old friends in order to handle some ordeals, and with you being one of the strongest human fighters in their current time, you were practically required to attend

📚 As you kissed your daughter's forehead and gave your husband the tightest hug known to the half-blooded Saiyan, you gave him a final message until you returned a few days later

" If anything happens, I love you. "

📚 If anything happens? How far away were you going this time?

📚 While it was quite a hassle balancing his job and caring for Pan by himself, Gohan was grateful to have both his mother, Chi-Chi, his sensei, Piccolo, and his childhood friend, Videl, all there to help out once and a while

📚 He couldn't wait for when you would come home. Counting down the days with fun dinners for him and his daughter as the calendar was decorated with cute little stickers from Videl

" Hey Papa? Why does Mama look so beaten up? "

" She probably- wait she looks what?! "

" She has a big cut on the side of her face. It looks like it's bleeding a lot! "

📚 Gohan opened the front door of your home and picked you up quickly before rushing inside and running towards the bathroom to find your first-aid kit. Well, one of the many you had around the house

📚 Pan looked worried as you picked her up and laid her on your lap, brushing your hand through her hair as she sniffed and began to allow tears to bulge up in her eyes. You never liked to see your daughter in any kind of distress, especially emotionally. Physical scars can heal, but emotions are far harder to fix

" Mama, where did you get the cut...? "

" Let's just say... Mama got into a fight with some bad people and Mama kicked their butts. "

" Really? What were they like? Were they s... sai... "

" Saiyans? "

" Yeah! Were they Saiyans like Papa? "

📚 As Gohan walked back into the room with gauze being prepared in his hands, he saw just how comfortable Pan asked you questions while you avoided the topic of exactly who you fought and what happened on that planet miles away

" Y/N, can you please lift your headpiece up? "

📚 You did as your husband asked as you laid your thick head piece on the side, it was cracked from some force coming from your now deceased enemy, but it was nothing that Bulma couldn't fix!

📚 While Gohan bandaged up your head and arms, Pan asked both you and him questions of the days back when you both fought side-by-side. And whenever you mentioned him singing with the old dragon, Icarus, his face erupted in a mix of pink and red

📚 Why was your memory so damn good...

" Can I hear the song? "

" I don't think Piccolo would like to be reminded of that... again... "

" All the more reason to do it! "