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little-pondhead · 1 year

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Wanted to hop in on the supervillain Danny au questions! Do we think Valerie would have any interest to get in on this? Between being a pawn for Vlad as Red Huntress and her "friends" ditching her as soon as she stopped being rich, I like the idea that evil billionare mastermind is her general vibe. Heck, maybe she and Tucker flip roles and she becomes the guy in the chair, not being a front line powerhouse and actually coming up with elaborate plans.

And on that note, do we think that if Vlad somehow found his way into this mess, he'd see the whole thing as a fun little game of "opposite world" and try his hand at being a hero? Because I for one think that would be hilarious, I actually don't have ideas for that because I can't imagine a heroic Vlad.

Amyway, that's all I got for now. Love your work!

You're one of the vertebrae creatures who keep hoarding all the brain wrinkles, aren't you??

---

[Okay, so I lost your ask, wrote this shit, then found it again so it's not exact but I'm trying here.]

Let's start with Valerie, or keeping up with the trend, Gray in the DC universe.

Valerie is so tired. It's a different kind of tiredness that has a grip on the others. Danny is tired of being a hero, Sam is tired of her parent's expectations, and Tucker is tired of being unable to protect his friends. Jazz is tired of being the bigger person, and Dani is tired of not having someone to rely on. The DC universe is their escape, and honestly, it's doing wonders for their mental health. Valerie notices. She has a shaky truce with Phantom and his crew, but she can't just let him get a leg up on her, can she? So Valerie follows them, through town, through the portal, through the new world they popped up in.

There, she stops. Phantom is now Fenton, and doesn't that make sense? Many things click into place and Valerie starts to understand as she watches the others from the shadows. She's surprised they haven't noticed her, but a little green sticky note on her visor says she had a little hand in her reconnaissance. So when she's done, she returns to her dimension. Back to Amity Park and back to her bed. Valerie lays there for a while, staring at the ceiling and fingering the sticky note, committing every detail to memory.

And you know what? Valerie gets pissed. How come Danny and his friends lovers? and family get to just visit other dimensions whenever they want a break and have no repercussions whatsoever? Just because hero work is hard?? She's a hero too, dammit!

Obviously, someone out there apparently agreed with her because, in a quick, dizzying moment, Valerie finds herself suddenly in the Ghost Zone, plopped down on a ratty blue couch with a very old ghost sitting across from her. He introduces himself as Clockwork, the ghost of time, the regent of the king, and Danny's guardian. Mentor? She wasn't sure; ghost speech always gave her a headache. Either way, Valerie found herself exceptionally calm and somehow struck a deal with the Ancient. To her chagrin, Clockwork informed her that Valerie was well and truly Liminal now, despite her best efforts. (What did she expect? Her suit was practically drenched in ectoplasm.) As part of the deal, Clockwork extended the same courtesy to her that he had to the others. Anytime she wanted, Valerie could have free reign and access to the DC universe and could do anything she liked with no bad consequences. And because of her liminality, he was able to grant her just enough power for her to create her own portals directly to the other realm.

[What did Clockwork get out of this deal? Well, that's up to someone else who's not me.]

So Valerie goes to this new universe. She switches her name to Gray, as if to mock Fenton, who had no idea she was there. She does not try to become a supervillain. And what's this? Outfit analysis time!!

In the show, I've always liked Valerie as a character, and whether it was intentional or not, her design seems to fit her attitude and actions. They were in high school in the early 2000s before her dad lost her job; Valerie was very popular, from what I remember. Her family had money. Other kids expected her to keep up with social norms, so her outfit looked more stylish than practical. She wears yellow, which is most commonly seen as a happy color. Her hair is slicked back so people can see her whole face. She has nothing to hide. She's confident and youthful, ready to lead, and overall enjoying her lot in life. Then ghosts start appearing, and we all know her backstory as Red Huntress. Her suit is tight to her skin, bright red, and overall she's armed to the teeth. Everything about that screams DANGER! Valerie is a threat now.

Her civilian outfit also never changes, which is understandable because this is a cartoon from 2004. But it's secretly genius because yellow is often considered a cautious color. It turns from being a happy color to a warning. Yellow is also associated with anxiety, betrayal, and even egotism, which is something both she and Danny experience during their interactions. She's uptight and constantly on edge. She feels like she has to provide for her family and is quick to anger.

Now for the opposite of that? Valerie is tired of being angry all the time. Rather than go apeshit on a bunch of poor heroes and villains-been there, done that-she treats this whole thing like an actual vacation. Gray wears a soft long sleeve, sweats, and fuzzy slippers. Her hair is relaxed and in a bun, with her bangs hiding half of her face. It takes some pressure off of constantly keeping her expressions in check. People also can't see how she's silently judging them. She lets the stress melt from her shoulders and lets herself curse like a sailor whenever she feels like it. Her clothes are dimmer colors, which don’t stand out or demand attention. She lets herself be not perfect.

Although, just because this is a vacation for her doesn't mean Gray can't just lounge around doing nothing. She has no money! So Gray, after shuffling through a couple decades of this world's history and discovering that Craigslist is universal, applies for the first work ad she sees. In short, Gray joins the Goonion. She ends up making a deal with the guy who hired her. And her new boss. And her new neighbor. And-

Gray very quickly becomes the John Constantine of the criminal underworld. She brushes up on her people skills and learns to talk rings around other people, getting people to owe her favors as much as she dishes them out. Balance is the key here, as she’s learned from Danny. Gray is never tied down by too many IOUs at a time, and her tight grip on her companions and team quickly earn her a questionable but reliable reputation. She presents a morally-gray character, if you will.

Gray’s quick climb to power-that was definitely sped along by Clockwork-earns her a powerful position in the Goonion. If she plays her cards right, Gray doesn’t have to do any work at all. She just leans back and enjoys being paid for wearing pajamas all day and occasionally signing some paperwork. She siphons away bits of her own paycheck to a dimensional bank account she threatened asked Technus to set up, and Gray is finally able to slip more than a few tens into her father’s wallet when it’s time for him to pay his rent. It’s a good life.

Now, Vlad? Oh, he's fucked. This can work for whatever redemption au you want. He can be exactly like he is in the show or working towards bettering himself as a person. I imagine him being halfway to a redemption plot, and in an effort to gain the Fenton's trust, he starts hanging around with the family more. Jack loves this. The others do not, but what can they do? Everyone is just trying to be civil to each other in an effort to make Jack happy. Since old habits die hard, Vlad very quickly notices Danny's improved state of mind and is attuned to the Zone enough to feel when Clockwork stops time on their end. He starts to purposefully rile up Danny and realizes that the time stops happen right after Danny leaves the room in a fit of anger. Then the boy comes back all smiles and sometimes doesn't even remember what Vlad had said to him in the first place.

So he puts his ear to the ground. Whispers are floating around about a new portal that's been opened near Phantom's Keep. A natural one. A permanent one. No one can investigate due to its location, but the young king and members of his fraid have been seen frequenting it more often than late. Not suspicious in the slightest, Danny would have protested. Vlad goes poking around. Entering the Keep uninvited felt like millions of bugs tugging at his skin, but turning human helped ease the sensation. It was laughably easy to slip between the cold stone walls of the Keep, avoiding Fright Knight's walking path and sticking to the shadows. The portal was in the courtyard, under the watchful gaze of two stone gargoyles leftover from Pariah's reign. Right before Vlad can investigate further stick his head in and see what happens the world warps, and suddenly the older halfa is sitting on his ass in front of a very old ghost.

Looks like Vlad fucked around and found out.

Basically, Clockwork yoinked Vlad to his side of existence right before he entered the portal. Even if all he wanted to do was relate to Danny in an effort to mend their relationship, The Master of Time wasn't okay with Vlad going off into the DC universe all willy-nilly. Oh no. Letting Vlad loose in this world would lead to bad things regardless of his intentions. Even if Vlad promised to play by all the rules and pretended to be human, he was bound to slip up and cause trouble.

So there were two courses of action Clockwork could take here. One, he could pull in a few favors and wipe Vlad's memory, sending him back to his own universe until he inevitably went sniffing around again, and this whole song and dance continued. Or second, he could equip Vlad with similar ghost artifacts Manson and Foley possessed and temporarily seal away Vlad's powers while he was gallivanting around the DC universe. He'd be on Clockwork's payroll, so to speak, and could only act on the older ghost's instructions. Clockwork presented these two choices to Vlad. The older halfa chose the second option after weighing the pros and cons. He didn't want to be controlled by Clockwork, but he also didn't want to lose his memories (over and over again, from how he worded it.)

This is how Vlad's hero persona is born. I'm unsure if he should stick with his last name, Masters, or take on something different to distance himself from Fenton and his family. Let's stick with Masters for now.

Clockwork has this drowning little rat man on a rehab program and uses some fancy ghost jewelry to inhibit his halfa abilities. He doesn't make Masters do much, just drops him in here and there when the DC timestream needs a little nudge. It's not like Clockwork will have Danny deal with it; the kid already helps out with every other timestream when asked. Masters can help out here. And since his halfa abilities are blocked, he gets to do everything as a human, which brings its own set of challenges. The idea is that by throwing Masters face-first into a new world filled with people who could end his existence and be forced to win every fight or else, he'll come to appreciate what Danny goes through on a daily basis.

The JL Dark becomes very familiar with the mysterious Masters, who doesn't seem to have any powers but still fights like he does. The man can be extraordinarily clumsy and short-tempered but still graceful and light on his feet when it matters the most. More than once has someone caught Masters muttering under his breath, cursing out gravity and a 'purple-cloak wearing bitch.' Masters always shows up out of the blue at the most random times. He is literally just there, and sometimes even Masters himself looks shocked about his sudden scene change. But he's always suited up and ready to go, so not many heroes question it. They usually need the help anyway.

In the DC universe, Masters is wearing four magic bands, each engraved with the words Dominion of Time on them. Several bands made from tungsten were buried deep with Clockwork's Tower in an old wooden box made from aspen and diamonds. Each band was a blank slate, glowing slightly from magic long past. Clockwork had simply selected the four he needed, engraved the spells needed in ghost speech, and handed them over. Vlad grumbled and tried to find a loophole in the artifacts, but ultimately accepted his fate and wore them whenever Masters was needed.

Vlad's new outfit for this outfit is similar to Valerie's; it's loose and uncomplicated. (Actually, there are a lot of parallels between these two.) In the show, Vlad always wears a tailored suit and dress shoes. He's well-groomed and his hair is slicked back. He always tries to show off his wealth and power by having full control over his appearance. In layman's terms, he's the walking cliché trope of a rich billionaire villain in every superhero media to ever exist. After all, in a kid's show with a teenage protagonist, what's more intimidating than an adult nemesis who has their life together?

As Masters, Vlad is forced to throw all that out the window.

The hero outfit he wears was literally picked up off the street. If glowing metal bands were not adorning his arms, some would assume that Masters was a homeless man. The top was dug out from a dumpster behind a costume store, and the sandals were given to him by a woman who couldn't wear them anymore. His arm sleeves were sewn together from some blackout curtains he found at an old housing demolition site, and the pants were just some sweatpants that were a tad too short. The mask was bought from the corner store, his belt salvaged from a junkyard, and his scarf was actually a gift from Jack-not that he'd wear it around the oaf. The only 'expensive' things Masters wore were the four magic bands, a handful of large glass beads hanging from his belt, and the sharp metal claws he wore on top of each finger. The claws were bought on a whim years ago when Vlad was building his fortune, and boy, was he glad for them now. They were the only real weapons Clockwork allowed him to carry for some reason.

In other words, Masters is exposed. With his loose hair and flowing clothes, Masters is forced to trust the others around him to have his back. He's humbled every time someone covers an obvious blind spot of his that he's not used to compensating for. He gets dirty and messy, fighting to survive against enemies he knows nothing about. His outfit symbolizes his efforts to change. Masters is re-learning what it's like to be truly vulnerable in a world you don't understand with no help whatsoever. Clockwork has no issue pitting him against demons and ghouls even John Constantine would hesitate at, and his narrow victories quickly earn him an invitation to the Watchtower.

The Justice League is puzzled by this walking lump of wet spaghetti. He disappears so easily into the background and doesn't stand out at all. Every once in a while his eyes scrunch up like he's confused about something, but he won't admit that he's lost the conversation. Masters will offhandedly say weird things and turn as if expecting someone to be there, then suddenly stop himself with a soft flinch. He refuses any form of payment. He can stare down Batman. His appearances are random and the man carries no form of contact. Masters often has an aura of resignation and regret around him, as if he didn't want to be there in the first place. He's awkward around kids but fiercely protective of a few teen heroes. (Mostly Conner.)

It finally starts to come together in the JL's mind when Masters becomes more widely known in the world of supers. One of the higher-ups in the Goonion hates him. Dani held a gun to his head. Manson screeched bloody murder when she saw him. Nightingale declared herself his official nemesis. The final piece was when, after a long and exhausting fight, Masters temporarily removed his mask to wipe away some blood around his mouth.

The Flash, who was sitting next to him, nearly let out a squeak.

Masters' blood was bright green.

Masters' teeth were shaped like a shark's.

Masters was another fucking Fenton, wasn't he?

#pondhead replies #DPxDC #supervillain danny au #villain! everlasting trio #The Fenton Menace #FUCKING FOUND THE ASK #FINALLY #GODDAMN #does this make any coherent sense #jesus fuck i'm going to bed

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biblio-smia · 3 months

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This Wednesday is Valentine's Day, sooooooo, what would Mike Schmidt be like on Valentine's Day?

-🐿️

ohhhh my goodnesss hed be so perfect,,, happy valentines day!! i love you 👊 guys so much <3 | masterlist

mike is always nervous as soon as mid-january rolls around, writing down and scratching out different ideas he has for valentine's day. well, first he has to ask you to be his valentine.

mike decides february first is a safe enough date and he goes all out - he's hand-made a card that hides in the glovebox of his car, hearts sticking out of the passenger side sun visor mirror to entice your hand. once you do notice and pull down the mirror, little paper hearts all over your legs, a note instructs you to open the glovebox, where you have to dig through flowers to find the card asking you to be mike's valentine.

on valentine’s day, everything is heart-shaped. from the fruit on your plate for breakfast to the tags on the vase of the fresh bouquet that sits on the dining room table. the house smells of warm breakfast that you and mike have cooked together, the early start to your mornings not bothersome at all today. abby is sent to school with a class valentine set she's picked out, dressed in pink, red, and white. it's not an unusual color scheme from what she normally wears, but it's made special with the lovebug antenna headband she wears.

you and mike won't see each other until later in the afternoon, so you relish in the kisses and soft happy valentine's day wishes now.

you get home later than mike and, just as you suspected, find him in the kitchen (as he usually is). but there's an even bigger mess than most nights and you watch as mike puts something into oil, quickly pulling his fingers away from any splatter.

there's a knowing smile on your face as you approach, much to mike's disdain.

"you're not supposed to be in here," mike says with a bit of whine in his voice, eyes momentarily dragging away from the pots and pans cluttering the stovetop.

"yeah, okay." you pay no attention to mike, careful with your distracting presence, keeping an eye the food while mike takes his eye off.

you can gauge mike's stress by the crowded countertops and the stains on his sweater - ones he hasn't noticed until your line of sight drags his own down. mike sighs - one more thing for him to do.

his exasperation is obvious and your heart begins to churn. whatever mike is cooking is finished, according to him, and he picks up the pan. mike's eyes scan the countertops for a place to put the hot pan down and you can see his frustration grow. you take the pan, carefully as to not burn yourself, and make some space between a few stray pots.

when mike catches your eye again he deflates, tugging you into his hard.

"it really should be perfect," he sighs.

"it really doesn't have to be."

mike frowns as you pick up his chin, forcing him to look at you. you squeeze his face until he smiles, nose scrunched and eyes shut. you press kisses to his face until you hear laughter, and then you kiss him some more.

mike forgets all about the stress of a perfect valentine's dinner soon enough, your reassuring touches bringing him back to a state of sanity.

mike changes into a much cleaner sweater and into a much calmer attitude, nodding along as you suggest borrowing some of abby's art supplies (you'd make it up to her later).

the two of paint while you eat everything mike has prepared (and you make sure to compliment it all - mike can tell when you're exaggerating, but he smiles nonetheless). there's a consistent string of hushed laughter as you two try to peek at each other's work, each of you doing your best to hide it.

an hour later, there's a grand reveal; both of you had created something for each other. the paintings are exchanged (though they will end up right next to each other) along with kisses and the real gifts you've gotten for each other.

there were no explicit directions or expectations for them, but items had been grabbed in the days leading up, reminders of each other coming up in the most expected places. mike'd like this. this is mike's favorite color. mike loves the feeling of cotton.

he follows you everywhere, as you follow him. and there's just something about knowing how much attention he pays, how much care he puts into things when it comes to you. so, valentine's day is always quite the special day for the two of you.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fanfiction #mike schmidt x you #five nights at freddy's #fnaf x reader #🐿️ anon #v + mike #v writes

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supertrxshwrites · 5 months

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Maneater

Jason Todd x Reader

( idk heard this cover from a movie “no hard feelings” and I started to write this little fic I guess..it’s not great but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just something fun I might write more idk)

Jason asks you to be his date to a gala Bruce is throwing for Wayne enterprises. You didn’t think much of it, you’ve been best friends for years and you had a history of dating people and once it got serious you would panic and break it off. Afraid you’d ruin it. With Jason asking you to be his date you didn’t take it seriously, you thought it was just him being nice and letting you tag along.

──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────────

“You want me to be your plus-one to a gala?” You ask in disbelief

“My date y/n” he says correcting you with an eye roll

“Sure..whatever..same thing..A GALA?” you say quickly your body full of excitment like you’re about to explode

“Yeah, I thought it’d be fun” he says laughing nervously.

You never took Jason to be the suit and tie type but he cleans up nicely. His hair slicked back a bit, a black tux and he even brought you flowers. As you stand in the door wearing your pajamas you can’t help but stare taking in how good he looks.

“Are those for me?” You ask pointing to the flowers.

“Oh uh yeah” he says handing them to you with a nervous smile.

“Uhm I’m ready I just have to put on my dress and take these rollers out”

you say letting him in. You place the flowers down and run to your room to finish getting ready. Jason looks around your apartment, he looks at pictures on the wall of you guys from high school. There’s some of you when you were a kid and a few of your parents. After a while he checks his watch.

“Hey y/n I don’t wanna rush you but“

before he can finish you step out in a sleek black dress accompanied by a cute little black purse. Jason’s words get caught in his throat but he coughs a bit to play it off.

“Wow..you look-“ a smiles creeps across his lips

“Beauti-“ you cut him off before he can finish.

“Maybe we should get going?” You say walking towards the door. As you both walk to the parking lot and he follows along your side being sure to hang back slightly just to make sure you were safe.

“So what car did Bruce let you dri-“ you’re barely given enough time to finish your thought before you realize.

“You drove your bike here?!” You whip around to look at him.

“What? it’s fun and we’ll get there faster” he says grabbing his extra helmet.

“It’s gonna mess up my hair” you pout a bit.

“Yeah so will sliding around with no helmet now hold still” he says gently pushing your hair back and putting the helmet on you and handing you a jacket to put on then helping you with gloves.

“You good?” he asks as he puts on his gloves and helmet.

“Yeah” you say with a nod a bit giddy about the ride.

“Good.” He smiles before slapping the visor on your helmet closed and getting on the bike turning a bit to help you on. You wrap your arms around him and he kicks to start the bike and quickly closes his visor before you guys speed off flowing into traffic, weaving in and out of the lines between cars. Your heart begins to race at the adrenaline of being on the bike, The way Gotham looks at night with the lights of cars on the street and how the city is just bursting with life gives you such a feeling of freedom you can’t help but smile under your helmet. You guys stop at a light and Jason turns his head a bit his voice slightly muffled form the helmet.

“You okay back here?” He asks reaching back and tapping your leg.

“Yeah I’m okay” you nod

He nods back before the light turns green and you guys finally arrive to the gala. He helps you off of the bike and helps you out of the gloves,jacket and helmet careful to not mess up your hair. He takes your hand helping you up the stairs of the large museum like building,

He places your helmets by the door with the coats. You spin around taking in how nice everything looks and how everyone’s dressed. Piano is softly being played in the background as a woman sings while everyone mingles.

“Hey you mind sitting tight while I find Bruce?” He asks as you sit in one the bar seats

“Sure” you smile before turning to the bartender. You’re ready to order when suddenly a guy slides next to you.

“Hey man I’ll take a G and T and whatever the lady’s getting” he says turning to you with a smile.

“Oh I’ll take coke and rum I guess” you say to the bartender.

“So what’s a place like you doing in a girl like this” he says with a goofy smile.

“Oh my friend he asked me to tag along so I’m here” you smile before your drink is placed in front of you on a small napkin. You take a small sip looking around taking in the party.

“Well I don’t see him anywhere, I mean seriously what idiot would leave you alone..look at you!” He says gesturing at you

“We’re best friends we aren’t together I’m just his plus one” you laugh a bit before taking another sip.

“Oh really?” There’s a devilish smile plastered upon his face after hearing that.

“Uh yeah but I’m not looking for anything serious” you say swirling your straw in your drink.

The guy leans over to whisper something in your ear and that’s when Jason spots you from across the room. He had just finished talking to Bruce about something and he turns around to see some fucking greaseball leaning over you whispering in your ear. He felt like he was going to combust. You were supposed to be his date and now some idiot is all over you and you’re letting him. He strides over angrily.

“What the fuck y/n?” He snaps at you

“What? We’re just talking” you say confused a slight smile on your lips.

“No you’re flirting there’s a fucking difference” he says clenching his jaw staring daggers into the guy which was his cue to leave.

“Jay, what’s your problem? You brought me here as your plus-one where people are mingling..I’m not your girlfriend!” You say frustration plaguing your tone.

“Yeah I know..you’re not very good at commitment” he says under his breath

“What?” Your brows furrowed.

“Nothing.” He says looking down at the floor for a moment

“No Jason what the fuck did you just say?” You’re angry now your voice raising.

“Fuck! I said you aren’t good at commitment. You don’t think I listen when you tell me about the “flings”You have?” He says doing air quotes.

“These guys that you “date” only to what leave once it gets serious and when someone wants to actually take you out on a date..you fucking turn around and flirt with a fucking stranger” the anger in his voice is dripping from each and every syllable of each word.

“Jay I didn’t kn-“ he cuts you off before you can finish

“Whatever.” He walks away probably to find Bruce or one of his brothers.

You let out a deep sigh before gesturing for another drink to the bartender. That’s when the piano starts up again, it’s not as quiet as earlier when the woman was singing earlier. That’s when you turn around and notice Jason is sitting at the piano. He clears his throat the mic ringing just a bit before he smiles nervously a silent apology to those who were standing by the speakers. He plays and begins to sing along.

“She only comes out at night, The lean and hungry type.

Nothing is new I’ve seen her here before

Watching and waiting

Oh she’s sitting with you but her eyes are on the door”

Each word hitting you like a ton of bricks.

“ So many have paid to see, what you think you’re getting for free.

The woman is wild a she-cat tamed by the purr of a Jaguar

Money’s the matter

If you’re in it for love you ain’t gonna get too far”

As Jason sings an older guy sits next to you.

“Wonder who hurt that guy” he laughs before turning to the bartender. The pain from what Jason said to you finally sinking in. Each word stinging.

“I wouldn’t if I were you, I know what she can’t do

she’s deadly man she could really rip your world apart.

Mind over matter

Oh the beauty is there but a beast is in the heart.

Oh here she comes watch out boy

she’ll chew you up oh here she comes she’s a maneater.”

Jason finishes the song, there’s some applause before he walks away and out the way you guys come in. You get up to follow him when you realize he left your helmet.

“Shit” you swear under your breath as you quickly run out and down the stairs. Jason slaps his visor down and drives off leaving you at the gala. Tears prick your eyes as you realize how royally you’ve fucked up.

#supes writes #jason todd x reader #jason todd #supertrxshwrites #dc comics #batfam #headcannons #supes speaks #Jason playing piano in a suit while angry #motorcycle Jason #Spotify

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star-girl69 · 1 year

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Keep Me Ablaze

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: death, war, battle, mentions of blood, injury, grief, swearing, guns, bows and arrows, tell me if i misses anything!!

Chapter Twenty Four- Watercolor Eyes

—-

The ikrans flying through the air look like someone took a box of watercolors and threw it onto a canvas It’s a mess of blues and orange, red and green and every color imaginable. You stare at it so long you think it will be forever imprinted on your eyes.

Toruk let’s out a mighty war, and the realness of it all forces a smile onto your face. This is life, this is revenge, and it is beautiful. Neytiri painted bright colors all over your face, white and black down your arms and chest. But the centerpiece of it all is two handprints, two tokens of them.

As if anyone will look at you and see the hands, and even care if they know you belong to someone. You stand in front of what they want. Why should they care if you live or die?

You look over at Neytiri, at her father’s bow clutched tight to her side. The small talking piece at your neck itches, but you focus on her yellow eyes- almost hidden by the reflection in her visor. She stares at you with determination in her features, this look in her eyes that says “I will do anything and everything for this.”

Her mouth is parted slightly, and your own ikran lets out a small screech, and it seems to shock her back into reality, into the war. Her lips press down into a straight line.

The wind hits your face as you turn, looking over at Jake, and he only looks at you for a moment- chest covered with grenades and spare bullets, gun flush against his chest. He stares forward, back into whatever is coming.

A million things could lie ahead. A battle field bathed in gold and victory, or one washed in blood. Death and life lies above you, a candle or a wildfire. It is up to you to be the wildfire, to teach the humans and make them learn that you are a force to be reckoned with.

The People are a force to be reckoned with.

—-

You whisper softly to your ikran, patting her neck and feeling her breathe against your thighs. You imagine what’s the come, the adrenaline and the reaction and action.

Neytiri is close next to you, mourning not to remember everything she’s taught you, staring at the bow in your hands like it’s all that stands between life and death.

Maybe if it wasn’t like this, if you weren’t so nervous you thought she could hear your heart beating, you would tell her that it’s all fine. But she’s right. The bow, your mind and your aim are all that stands between you and death. You and the wildfire face the wind, coming like a force to blow you out.

But you are not a candle. You are a wildfire, you do not waver in the wind. Not even a storm could bring you down.

“Norm?” Jake says from next to you, Toruk’s large wings taking up most of the space on this slab of mountain. You meet Tsu’tey’s eyes from Jake’s other side, and he makes no outward response to acknowledge you. Your eyes flick back to Jake, his expression turns from one of water to fire. “Okay,” he says, and turns to you.

He doesn’t need to say anything. The three of you all know what that look means.

—-

Jake leads the four of you, raising his gun into the air and hollering. Tsu’tey follows, shouting commands in Na’vi and suddenly the ikrans are all pouring off the wall, and even though the unknown is right there, you can’t help but think that the colors are beautiful.

But then it all comes rolling back, the fact that a place for your head is marked by a silver platter, and the war cries fill your ears as you tighten your grip on your bow.

Months of training with Neytiri all bubble up to the surface, each bullseye, each ride with your ikran. You take it all and blend it together like some watercolors, as Jake’s voice rings in your ears.

“I’m going to punch a hole,” he says, and you say it into your mind and you ikran slows down ever so slightly, so you can fly behind him and Tsu’tey.

You take a deep breath, too focused to echo back the war cry that each of them do. You take a deep breath and whisper, “down”, so your ikran stiffens beneath you and dives straight down.

The wind blows your hair out of your face, and with the visor you can see perfectly if you squint a bit. It feels like you’re heading into the eye of the storm, the center of the fire- but that is where you must go.

You watch as Toruk grabs into a helicopter, pawing it around and slams it into the mountainside. You can’t help but laugh, before Tsu’tey’s arrow shoots past you and knocks you back into the game.

This is what it has to be. It has to be a game, it has to he unmanned helicopters because are you not just as bad as them if you take a life? You wonder what Grace would say. But something tells you that she would understand. She would know.

So, you tighten your legs, prepare to teach death, and pull back the string of your arrow.

There is this one moment, where you hold a life in your hands. You could do whatever you wanted and change the world. You do what feels right, what your heart knows, what the fire wants.

“Ah!” you shout, wincing at the sound of the shattering glass, but the helicopter spirals out of control and starts falling.

You cannot look any longer, not because it hurts, but because another one is coming towards you. The Colonel must have given the signal, because the ship runs at you with its guns out.

Taking a life was not what you had envisioned for yourself a few months ago. But it is the feeling of winning, the feeling of knowing that you are the one in control, that you are preventing loss today- that is what makes the fire inside burn even brighter.

You nick another arrow. Another moment, another life in your hands, another choice. You make the right one.

It is like you have been screaming for years and no one has heard you. But now, you teach your lesson, speak your spell, and now, they listen.

Glass shatters again, and again, and bullets ring through the air that remind you so vividly of the night Grace got shot.

The helicopters break their formation, and bullets pour all around you, explosions everywhere, and it’s only another moment of that fire before it all becomes water.

A bird call fills the air, and you frown, whipping around and wondering what animal could still possibly be up here in the midst of all this noise?

Then, a bright blue ikran soars past you, and a familiar war cry rents the air. You look over your shoulder just in time to see Neytiri’s arrow shatter the glass, sink into flesh.

She circles back around to you, and you cannot tell if her eyes are simply squinted from the wind or if she’s mad at you for not realizing her call sooner.

You don’t even know what you could do. It’s not like she could hear you through the roar of bullets and arrows and glass shattering, but she only turns and dives after a new target.

You breathe in once before doing the same, shooting one more before a shadow passes above you. You fly upwards, and all of the RDA ships seem to- vanish. Into the thin air, like they were never there at all.

But you can still hear your heartbeats, fast from the battle, see the smoke that sits in the air and smell the fire and ash.

“Y/N!” he shouts, and you dove upward until you’re flying alongside him. But there’s no more fight, at least mot right here.

“Jake!” you gasp, something in your heart warming up after seeing him safe. “What- what happened? Where is everyone?”

He only spares you a glance before looking straight forward again.

You know what he means.

“I-” you start, but what is there to say? Death and defeat stares at you head on.

“My Jake! My Y/N!” Neytiri calls, and you want to believe she’ll emerge from the smoke, but instead, you press the strap around your neck.

“I read you,” Jake says.

“I’m here,” you pant.

It’s silent across the other line for a moment, and you glance over at Jake. But it’s like he won’t let himself feel it, so he stares at the back of Toruk’s head.

“Neytiri!” you shout, unable to take the not knowing.

“Seyzey’s dead,” she breathes. “They are very close. They are many.”

Jake makes a wide circle, leaving you no choice but to follow him.

“Do not attack,” he commands. But Neytiri doesn’t speak. “Do you read me, Neytiri?!”

“Neytiri!” you try, but still the line is empty.

“Fall back now. Get out of there! That’s an order!”

“N-neytiri!” you shout, but you can barely get her name out, everything feeling like too much, like the weight of a thousand lives are tied to your shoulders.

That’s what has gotten you to this moment. A thousand lives, a thousand deaths.

All you can do is bite back your sob, while Jake stays anxiously on the line. You want it all to go back, for life to be like the night that you mated. Where it was just fire and badness but it was good.

“Jake,” Neytiri says, and her voice is coated in disbelief. You want to run into her arms and never leave. You want to return to her, you want her to return to you. “Eywa has heard you.”

For a second, her words mean nothing. Eywa hears everything.

Then, a million echoing screeches can be heard, and when you turn your head- a hundred, a thousand ikran pour out from behind the mountains, from each small hiding place and each crevice. From above and below, from everywhere.

Your heart beats louder than it ever has before. This time, it doesn’t run on fire. It runs on hope, on the belief that it will all return to something better than this.

“Eywa has heard you!”

Jake smiles before clenching his jaw.

“Come on!” he shouts at Toruk, and his eyes meet yours for a half second- “Stay close!”

He flys at an angle, downwards towards the shuttle.

“Go high!” he shouts, and before you can even question what his plan is, he’s jumping from Toruk and onto the metal of the shuttle.

He readies his gun, jumping over the small box that contains snipers, pointing downward and pulling the trigger. They all crumple, and then he drops his gun and runs until he reaches the vents of the engine. He takes the small grenade and pulls the pin, throwing it into the large vent.

He jumps onto Toruk just as the grenade goes off, a watercolor mess of white-hot oranges and reds, tinged with black smoke at the edges.

The two of you circle, watch the shuttle hit the white rock arch leading up to the Spirit tree, losing a wing and making the most horrible sound as it twists in the air, before landing and making your teeth chatter when the fire causes the bombs inside to explode.

More watercolors, more death, but it’s right. It has to be. This has to be the moment, this has to be all that it is and all it will be.

The two of you wrap around another arch, and some feeling in the air tells you to ready another arrow. Jake guides Toruk down, and jumps on the back of the shuttle with a bang even you can hear.

Your breath catches. The colonel must have heard that. Anyone in there must have.

You scream for your ikran to move forward in your head, and it does just as Jake pulls the pins.

You breathe out, go to say a prayer, but before you can even get the first word out the shuttle whips to the side so dramatically he loses his grip and the grenades fall down into the air.

“No!” you gasp, watching chances pour away, and even if it’s a long shot, you move forward while they’re recovering from the swift decision, realize your arrow into the only man you can see in the cockpit.

The glare of the sun almost surrounds him like a halo, blocking out everything else. Your arrow shatters glass and meets flesh.

You breathe out heavily before the air is rocked by another explosion, coming from the ship- one of the grenades must have stuck.

You dont dwell on that, only starting to circle the ship to try and find Jake.

A flash of blue in the air.

You dove downward, cut through the canopy as the leaves and the branches hit you and your ikran.

“Jake! Jake!” you screech, and your ikran slams into the ground harshly. Your bones shake and your heart thuds so loudly you think it will burst out of your chest. “Jake,” you mumble.

“Y/N!” he returns, appearing out from behind some bush.

The world all feels like too much. Too much death and too much life, too much adrenaline and loss. You ikran moans out lowly, shuffling around on her feet. Blood and scratches cover her skin and your own.

You climb down and hold her jaw, mumbling softly words you can barely understand, it’s all too much.

“Why did you do that?” Jake hisses, grabbing your bicep.

“For you,” you mumble stupidly, and his eyes meet yours. He’s angry. He doesn’t want you to get hurt.

But he is off falling from hundreds of feet in the air, barely surviving, yet he asks you this? As if you wouldn’t die for him, as if you weren’t made for him and this moment.

“For you,” you repeat, stronger this time.

A fire flares in his eyes and his jaw clenches.

Then, he’s kissing you.

It feels like every other time you’ve kissed, lips against yours and hands, hands. Feeling. So much feeling you can’t describe it. This is what you were made for, for this moment, for this happiness that barely even is happiness. Where your mind goes blank and everything just focuses onto him.

He pulls away.

“I love you,” he says, simple, like it’s the most truest thing he’s ever said. The most basic fact, just something he was born with.

You look at the yellow of his eyes, the blue of his skin, the green of the plants behind him. It’s watercolor. You want it to stay like this forever, for this to be what your eyes look at.

“I love you,” you say, with watercolor eyes.

—-

taglist:

@eywas-heir @kitkat1690 @tiajk @reallysparklychaos @behindthearcane @neteyamforlife @aeslenya @ghoulbli @luvvsnae @personapersonally @bubble-blu @ameriesworld @itsyoboysparkel @ok-boke @arschbohrer @ambria @ssc7514 @w3ird11 @vane28282 @littlexscarletxwitch @erenjaegerwifee @myheartfollower @simp-erformarvelwomen @maevirago @n7cje @aerangi @minkyungseokie @disaster-in-waiting @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @hot15936 @noname2246 @fanboyluvr @ara-a-bird @fussel9913 @iwaslikeblah @hai-kbai @rosymccheese @itszzmoon @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lovekeeho @ducks118 @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @milf-lover-23 @the-wandering-pan-ace @scaredknight

everything taglist:

@monsterwasstolen @fanboyluvr @artologia-blog1 @tulipatheticee @elvyshiarieko @fluffisalliwant @fluffi19 @jeizllz @myheartfollower @fy-fy-world @minkyungseokie @ivy-plays @blueberryfailureclinic @cryingwhilereading @thatratprincessforever @dumb-fawkin-bitch @sillyblues

#jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader

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lets-try-some-writing · 1 year

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Yo what are your thoughts on Decepticon Optimus? because I enjoy daydreaming about Optimus who decided to go disguise himself as another bot and joined the Decepticons to get information since no one else wanted to do it.

I just find such a concept interesting

A fascinating idea, but unless we are talking about some messed up brainwashing, logically I see no real reason why Optimus would go undercover considering his size, rank, morality, and everything else. But I can try and come up with a reasonable explanation since this is such a neat idea.

Undercover

After a particularly nasty battle, Optimus was out of commission. His armor was shredded and a good portion of his frame melted or otherwise misshapen in some way, shape, or form. His injuries could be repaired and he could still fight, but the demoralization that would come from him looking so horribly mutilated on the battlefield wasn't worth it. Not only that, but preparing the necessary materials and specialists to fix all the damage to his frame, cosmetic and practical, would take quite some time. And so at a meeting trying to determine the best course of action, Jazz piped up from the back.

Jazz: Why not make the best of this situation and send Prime out to the Decepticons undercover?

Ratchet: *choking on his drink* Send him WHAT?!?!

Jazz: Yeah, he don't look anything like himself at the moment, no offense Prime.

Optimus: *nodding along in understanding* None taken.

Jazz: So wouldn't it make sense to slap some new armor and paint on him and have him go undercover gathering info while we prep the medics? I have just the mission for him!

Prowl: We are NOT sending our Prime behind enemy lines. What will our soldiers think? The loss of morale would be devastating.

Jazz: *kicking his legs up onto the table* Just say Prime is doing some spiritual stuff and spread some rumors about something big happening. Then leave Magnus in charge and no bot will question Prime being gone for a while.

Ultra Magnus: *scowling* Optimus has received no training for such a position and he would be left incredibly vulnerable should he be discovered.

Jazz: Basic integration and stealth training takes three weeks at most, and Prime was an Archivist when he was still a civilian. I'm sure he can figure out how to get the data without the additional training in that department.

Optimus: *nodding as if it is the simplest thing in the world* He has a pretty good point.

Everyone else: WHAT!?!?

And so against almost everyone's better judgement, Optimus was sent off to train with Jazz, and then a month later, refitted to suite his new position. The Decepticons were always looking for new warriors, so all Jazz had to do was reformat Optimus (a process that was not at all difficult considering that the Prime had no real armor so to speak of), give him some basic training to integrate into his new armor, and then send him off.

When Optimus left base he was a sight to behold. No longer did he look graceful or have regal nobility, he instead looked heavy duty, dangerous, and ready to kill. His frame had been reformatted to be boxier, sturdier, and less elegant, his optics having special visor glass put over them to give the impression of them being red to really sell it. His paint was black and gray, with accenting red on his windshields and on his new axe. And on top of it all, he had chosen a cold and calculating personality to use, one not so murderous as to be a threat to Megatron, but also not so intelligent as to be a danger to the higher ranks.

With a status beacon imbedded directly into his processing units to alert the Autobots to his welfare at all times and a set of directions to a meeting place should he gather any intel, Optimus made his way to a Decepticon outpost. His insignia had been scrubbed and so he was not shot on sight, instead being brought to the local Decepticon officer once he made his intention to join up clear. After a quick glance at his forged documents and a spar with a Vehicon, Optimus was accepted into the Decepticon ranks under the name Nemesis. And while not exactly his intention, after dealing with a great many internal issues in the Decepticon order, more so by accident and due to his slight OCD than anything else, he rose through the ranks.

He regularly brought Jazz any information he gathered and took great care to ensure that other dangerous Decepticons took the fall for his actions. It was... difficult for him to not allow his strong morals to impede his work, but he did what he could. He kept up the ruse that he was a cold calculating individual, but to ease his own spark he threw in a deep sense of brotherhood and comradery into his new personality. He helped his Decepticon comrades, eventually befriending a majority of the Vehicons, gaining their collective respect upon going out of his way and saving them numerous times. He became the emotional support bot for the younger Decepticons who started to doubt the cause and the older ones who suffered from the loss of friends and family (he always found a way to smuggle the truly good sparked ones out of the Decepticon order, sending them to the Autobots under his name). And when on the battlefield he made his engagements look like the most intense battles ever conceived, only ever holding the line but never gaining or losing territory for the Decepticons. It was perfect to maintain his position but never raise any serious suspicion.

Eventually he caught the optics of Starscream and his trine who admired him not for his (nonexistent) kill count, but for his loyalty, skill in battle, and brilliance in dealing with morale among the troops. With Starscream's favor, Nemesis rose past the lower ranks and found himself serving directly under the seeker despite not being a flight frame. He didn't understand, but for whatever reason, Starscream liked him and that suited Nemesis just fine. With time he even found himself liking the seeker after he came to understand that his arrogance was largely a defense mechanism. They became incredibly close in only a few short months as Nemesis saved Starscream from numerous punishments from Megatron. They only grew closer after the death of Starscream's trinemates, leaving Nemesis as the only mech Starscream was willing to rely upon. They became brothers of a sort, and that made Nemesis's position difficult.

Eventually the lines between Nemesis and Optimus began to blur. Nemesis became part of Optimus, giving the Prime a more cynical and analytical outlook, one based more on reality instead of hopes. And Optimus gave Nemesis the morality and the empathy needed to allow him to bond with those around him while not falling into their influence. The two personalities were set apart, but quickly began to bleed into one another. By the time Nemesis was given the order to return, he found himself reluctant. He had bonded with his Decepticon brethren and he, while not caring for their goals or at all liking their actions, found himself attached. He didn't want to abandon them, not when the Vehicons would be abused and Starscream would be left all alone. And so eventually, Nemesis made a choice.

Jazz: Good to see you again Prime! You've done excellent work! But we got the medics all ready for you now, so you don't need to hide out anymore!

Optimus/Nemesis: In regards to that topic... I do not wish to leave the Decepticons.

Jazz: *sputtering* w-what?!

Optimus/Nemesis: Do not mistake my words, I hold no love for Megatron, his inner circle, or anything they stand for... but there are innocent mecha suffering under his rule. I cannot leave them, they need me.

Jazz: But Prime! We need you too!

Optimus/Nemesis: I am well aware of that, and that is why I would like to propose a compromise.

Few were pleased with the development, but none could argue with the end results of Optimus's plan. He got the necessary repairs to return to his duties as Prime, but at the same time, he also got some special upgrades to allow him to return to his position as Nemesis. He spent half his time as Optimus, leading his Autobots, raising and training Bumblebee, and keeping up morale. But the other half of the time he was Nemesis, an officer serving directly under Air Commander Starscream and silently collecting data.

The excuse Optimus gave to continue living both his alternate lives was interesting to say the least. To the Autobots, when Optimus wasn't around, he was communing with Primus and recovering from the long term affects of his wounds. Bumblebee didn't question his Sire leaving, he was no sparkling by the time Optimus was initially damaged and he was fully capable of operating alone. So long as he got affection and could see Optimus semi-regularly, he was content. Optimus's inner circle were less happy about the arrangement, but the data they received and the near constant flow of new bots smuggled out of Decepticon ranks soothed their irritation. Of course Ratchet was the least happy but he managed by having the status beacon available for him to view Optimus's health at all times.

To the Decepticons, Nemesis dropped off the map sometimes and that was just a thing that happened. No Decepticon cared enough to bother him about it since the Vehicons never said anything to superior officers and he always came back with either energon or some interesting item. Nemesis wasn't important enough for Megatron to give a frag beyond pushing Starscream around more since his bodyguard wasn't present. And Soundwave while suspicious just decided to leave the issue alone since Nemesis's presence only did good things for morale and efficiency. Starscream was less than pleased and incredibly suspicious about Nemesis's frequent disappearances, but he also never said anything for fear of losing his one remaining friend. He knew something was up and that his close friend and brother in all but CNA was hiding a secret, but despite having the ability to pry and discover the truth, he never did so. Instead he played along with Nemesis's excuses and accepted the increased affection and care from Nemesis upon his return.

Optimus/Nemesis played his roles without much issue for much of the war... that was until the Allspark had to be sent away. At that point both factions were preparing to leave Cybertron and Optimus had no choice but to pick which life he was going to stick with. He knew what he had to choose in the end, he made peace with that fact long ago. But that didn't stop him from spending his last few months as Nemesis doing everything in his power to prepare many a failsafe and all sorts of hidden escape routes for the Vehicons to use without him there to get them out of trouble. He scrubbed sensitive information regarding his subordinates to keep them from being blackmailed. And he also went out of his way to spend time with the remaining Vehicons, Soundwave's cassettes (who had taken a liking to him over time), and of course, Starscream.

Every moment he could spare, Nemesis spent with Starscream. He became incredibly affectionate, showering his brother in love and giving him little gifts. Starscream was suspicious but accepted it as Nemesis dealing with the loss of the Allspark in his own way. Little did he know that Nemesis was quietly preparing for his "death" and attempting to ease his "passing" as much as possible. He even wrote out letters to various Vehicons, Soundwave's cassettes, and Starscream. He made several albums with photos he had taken of and with his Decepticon friends and comrades for them to find after his "death". And lastly he prepared the necessary evidence to make his "death" look like a suicide instead of anything else. He didn't want Starscream or any of his other loved ones growing bitter, no, he wanted them to be able to move on, so he made sure to specify that his "death" was not the fault of any bot in particular. But before Nemesis enacted his plan, he spoke with Starscream one last time.

Nemesis: Starscream... I want you to know that I have always seen you as a brother and friend. Your companionship has been invaluable to me, and I am glad to have spent all these vorns by your side.

Starscream: *raising his eyebrow in suspicion* And what brought all this flattery on? You aren't planning on defecting are you?

Nemesis: *shaking his helm* No, nothing like that... I just thought it was best that I tell you the truth of how I feel. With the Allspark gone and the war still raging, it felt appropriate to say before it is too late.

Starscream: You aren't the emotional type Nemesis. Is something wrong?

Nemesis: All sorts of things, but you need not worry yourself. I will handle it on my own.

Starscream: ... If you say so... but if you need me to come beat some bot for you, just give the word.

Nemesis: Of course Starscream...

Nemesis quietly left later that same day. He purposefully left tracks leading toward a quiet location and set up the scene. A lifeless protoform made to look like him set up with a blade through its spark chamber. Energon was injected into the protoform to make it pour out of the wounds and Optimus left the body with a note that would seem convincing. He did not linger and cried silently in his quarters on the Ark when the cameras he set up around the body picked up Starscream's reaction. He was unable to watch for long as Starscream tenderly cradled the protoform with tears streaming from his optics.

Optimus moved on and did not look back, locking away the entirety of the personality he developed to be Nemesis and throwing himself into his work to try and ease the pain of knowing he abandoned so many mecha. He focused all his attention on the war effort and fleeing Cybertron, doing everything he could to not think about all he lost. But still he found himself going to Ratchet, the only other mech left who knew what he did to cry and pour out all his woes. He hated doing it, he hated having to burden Ratchet, but he couldn't help it. He missed ST3V3 the careless Vehicon and his brethren, he yearned for a chance to play cards with the cassettes, and he longed to comfort Starscream as he once did. Not even giving all his attention to Bumblebee and the team eased the pain entirely.

But Optimus has always been good at hiding his emotions, and so with time and after his arrival to earth with his team, he looked and acted as thought nothing was wrong. He fought on the battlefield as he always did, but after so many centuries of making his fighting far more extravagant than necessary, he learned to make his blows seem far more vicious than they actually were. He never cut down a Vehicon with the intent to kill them, only to inflict minor damage. And when Starscream came to battle, Optimus could never bring himself to harm the seeker in any significant manner and often left combat to the rest of his team. It hurt more than he cared to admit having to interact with his brother in all but CNA and have the seeker believe him to be dead.

He could see the pain in Starscream's optics, he could feel the sorrow. He knew Starscream well enough to know that his viciousness and manipulative behavior stemmed from his loneliness, only serving to make Optimus feel worse. Still he continued on, never daring to linger on his old attachment for long and only ever offering the Decepticons aside from Megatron and Soundwave the opportunity to flee when possible as his gift to them. All the anger he felt toward having to be torn away from his family on the nemesis he directed at Megatron instead.

No one save Ratchet knew of Optimus's time as Nemesis. No one needed to know. But when Megatron fell further into his madness and began openly hurting his followers, Optimus couldn't stand it. And for the first time since he left, Nemesis took control. His violence increased exponentially, and without any remorse he fought with the intent to tear Megatron limb from limb. His fighting style shifted and Nemesis took the place of Optimus Prime, standing up to protect Starscream and his Vehicons from Megatron in the middle of battle.

Nemesis/Optimus: *throwing Megatron away in rage* ENOUGH!

Ratchet: Optimus what are you doing!?

Nemesis/Optimus: *pointing at Megatron with his axe while speaking in an eerily cold tone* Touch him again and I will end you. I have no tolerance toward those who would harm my brothers.

Starscream: *looking up at Optimus from his place on the ground in mixed confusion, awe, and fear* Brothers?!?

It was never explicitly made clear, but as it happened again and again, slowly the puzzle began to fit together. Eventually both Autobots and Decepticons who were unaware came to put Nemesis and Optimus Prime together.

#maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #alternate universe #secret identity #nemesis prime #optimus prime #ratchet #starscream #undercover au #i can't help but want starscream and optimus to be friends #they both need eachother #i stand by that belief #angst #more secret identity stuff huh #I just can't seem to write much else right now

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stellarfoxian · 1 month

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can i request v x fem human reader where it takes place during the promening episode? maybe they have a little dance together or bond during the battle with doll i guess :P

-🦷

DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY!

character: serial designation v (murder drones)

a/n: hey guys…!!!! it’s been a while !!!!!! sorry for disappearing for 296721 years i’ve been really busy and demotivated recently lmao- anyways, im not really big on doing requests but this is such a cute idea and it gave me a sudden hit of inspiration so !!! im gonna do it :3 ALSO idk when or how you end up joining the crew so that’s up to you tbh.

warnings: human x disassembly drone (if that needs to be a warning? idk i know some people don’t like that), probably ooc im sorryyy

: ̗̀➛ v inviting you to prom ? oh, you got LUCKY.

: ̗̀➛ well… i guess it wasn’t really her inviting you. she explained her plan of “kill everyone, pop uzi’s little head off!” to you and was like “well. i guess you can come too or whatever.”

: ̗̀➛ and…. Depending on your personality you end up going with her to either make sure she doesn’t kill people or to help her kill people. fun !

: ̗̀➛ as for your outfit, n brought it back when he got his and v’s outfit !

: ̗̀➛ so, you go with her after she beheads n, (he’s fine. You hope.) the worker drones are SUPER curious about you. like what the hell are you doing here human. uzi already wasn’t very fond of you and you’re getting kinda nervous with all these stares.

: ̗̀➛ v notices, because of course she does.

: ̗̀➛ “just ignore them. they’re jealous of how fabulous you look.”

: ̗̀➛ she says as you step up backstage with her, waving at lizzy.

: ̗̀➛ this isn’t about her, but lizzy’s pretty chill with you.

: ̗̀➛ ANYWAYS! you probably know how this goes. v steps up to do her speech, gets crucified by doll. you try to help, but get THROWN by doll and her solver powers. Ouch. (you’re fine, trust.)

: ̗̀➛ after uzi and n pop in and n and v both get torn to pieces, you rush over to help them, picking up v’s arm- which she grabs from you.

: ̗̀➛ “MINE.”

: ̗̀➛ Okay, V.

: ̗̀➛ you’re just as mad at lizzy as she is. that traitor!

: ̗̀➛ fast forwarding to when everything is over, v wants to stay with you, so she convinces n and uzi to let her stay behind.

: ̗̀➛ though the music is kinda… janky, now that the boombox has been messed with, she holds her hand out to you.

: ̗̀➛ “wanna dance?”

: ̗̀➛ you’re kinda stunned. you didn’t know v liked to dance. or that she knew how to, actually.

: ̗̀➛ “do you… know how to dance?” you ask her in confusion.

: ̗̀➛ “…well, no. but it’s not too late to learn. just say yes before i change my mind!”

: ̗̀➛ so you take her hand. it’s a little hard to dance with a disassembly drone, considering that you’re a human, but you do your best! and it goes quite well, even though you stumble a bit.

: ̗̀➛ dancing with her is a learning experience for both of you, even if you already know how to dance. you have to learn how to dance with a drone now, so it takes some getting used to. but you manage!

: ̗̀➛ she learns pretty quickly, matching your movements almost perfectly.

: ̗̀➛ but eventually, you both tire out. so you call it a day and start to head back to the landing pod, holding her hand.

: ̗̀➛ wait.

: ̗̀➛ holding her hand?

: ̗̀➛ it took v a good while to realize she was holding your hand. and when she did, she pulled it away immediately. don’t take offense to it! she’s just embarrassed. you can tell by the blush lines on her visor…

: ̗̀➛ “i don’t want your human cooties.” she’d say, crossing her arms.

: ̗̀➛ i know what you are, v.

: ̗̀➛ you get back to the landing pod before n and uzi, and she turns to you before going to do her own thing.

: ̗̀➛ “i… i had fun. thanks.”

: ̗̀➛ and just like that, she’s off.

#murder drones x reader #murder drones x you #serial designation v #murder drones v x reader #serial designation v x reader #v murder drones x reader #written in the starsˎˊ˗⭐˚₊‧#a visit from 🦷!ˎˊ˗🚀˚₊#DARLINGGG GUESS WHO’S BACK FROM JAILLLL /ref #hope you like this !!! i tried my best lol ;; haven’t had any motivation recently #requests aren’t rlly my thing but if i get some good ones like this then i just HAVE to do it :3

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therandosfandos · 4 months

Text

Chapter 6!!

WOOOO!! @frenderbender09 @bluehamster08

The crew headed into Zapp Brannagains ship, Leela huffing about angrily as she avoided his eye contact with her. She had a right to punch him right in that stupid face of his, but he'd probably like that too. What a creep.

"So, where are we headed again, somewhere fine and course so me and lovely Leela here could go on a date, perhaps?", the captain winks at her and she rolls her eye at him, scoffing with her arms crossed, "never gonna happen", he states as a matter of fact, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Zapp chuckles, "I'm sure you'll change your mind soon enough"

"Oh shut up for fuffs sake!", the professor yells out, "set course for the Mahera quadrant".

Kif speaks up, "the Mahera quadrant?...but that's one of the most highly dangerous areas in the whole galaxy!", he voices his concern instantly. Amy grabs his hand and kisses his cheek, "don't worry, Kiffy, I'll protect you". As this happens, Kif giggles with a slight blush on his cheeks and stutters.

Meanwhile, Fry only sighs, "I can't believe he's gone missing on his birthday...I didn't even get to give him my gift yet", he mutters to himself. Leela places a hand on his shoulder and smiles softly, "we'll find him, Fry or we'll die trying". That gave the orange haired man a glimmer of hope, so he curls his lips upwards back.

—

Will ran back to the house. He needed to get help. Backup. Bender was kidnapped, taken away. He pants as he slams the front door to their cottage home open. Jewels and Anas eyes went wide, while Bon just looked up at his dad and giggled, reaching up.

Ana spoke, "where's Bender?", she asks with worry on her voice.

"Get your stuff...", Will pants, "and every weapon you can find".

—

Bender was back in the cage, he clutches at the collar around his neck in pain. A hiss sound came out of his voice box and he looks around before trying to bend the bars open again. Suddenly he sees a material labeled, "unbendable". Shit.

He sighs and falls onto the floor, his knees to his metal chest. The bot doesn't speak but then he sees the man walk back in clapping. A slow kind of clapping. "I applaud your efforts, bending unit, I really do...", he laughs vily. "However, it's no use...", he grins at looks down at the bot in the cage below him. Bender growls and clutches at the bars tighter. Suddenly a finger on his so called chin pulled his visor into the bars and his optics widen, "what the hell!?" He yells out and tried to pull away, but the human wouldn't allow it to happen.

"Get off!!", he yells to no use again. Suddenly his mouthplate was pressed against this man's lips. Disgust feeling him. He felt like throwing up. A moment later he was let go and fell to the ground weakly with a groan. "I 'oughta kill you...bastard...", the bending unit scowls.

The man laughs at this again, "id like to see you even try...", but his eyes widen when Bender shoots his extendable arm through the bars of the cage and wraps it around the humans neck. He was trying to choke him out. The horizontal lines in the foghat grey robots grill lifted upwards when he sees it's working, but fell quite quickly when he ogles a remote in the man's hand. "What the hell is-GRK!?"

That same painful electricity shooting through his circuits and he lets the guy go, retracting his arm and falling onto his knees. He clutches at the shock collar as his eyes sparked and optics change. Artificial tears spilling from his yellow eyes. "STOP!!! STOP IT!!!", he begs.

The human kicks the robot to the floor through the bar holes and smirks when he sees the robot curl up into a ball. "Cute...", he chuckles.

Bender didn't know who this man was, but he must be some kind of messed up robosexual. It was obvious by the way Hutz was eyeing him up and down. Probably also a fucking masochist based on what he did to Ana and Bon. He wanted them back. They protected him. Made him feel emotions like Fry had. Instead in a more maternal way than a love way. Fry...oh God, Fry! He was supposed to go on a date the night of his birthday!

Too bad that wouldn't happen. Let's face it? There's no route of escape here. The bars are unbendable, he had a shock collar on and this guy was a sicko.

He sighs, reaching into his chest compartment only to realize nothing was there. No, no, no, no! His stuff! And...the stuff he stole. But most importantly, his stash of beer! Crap! Crap! Crap! He'd be unable to fuel up unless he asked. The little bot trembled, hugging himself more and refusing to cry. He was tough. He was macho. He had an ego and an in-your-face interface. He couldn't break that.

However, It feels like a part of him has already been broken.

#futurama #bender #fry #frender #on a bent planet far away from you

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brookiedaaroacecookie · 4 months

Text

Glitch- a Nuzi oneshot

merry Christmas tumblr audience I hope you don’t hate this, as it is my gift to you.

story is under the break bc I don’t want a long ass story clogging the dashboard of those who don’t want it.

Uzi huffed, blowing her hair out of her face. As she slumped down in her chair, N peeked into her room.

“Hi Uzi! You good?” He asked.

“I’m fine. This stupid programming thing is just- being stupid.” The purple haired drone complained.

“What are you doing?”

“There’s a bug in my programming that’s been causing some glitches and I’ve been trying to find out what it is.” Uzi continued scanning the long lines of code occupying her computer screen.

“How do you know there’s a bug?” N peeked at her monitor, looking at the blocks of text that seemed to go on forever.

“I’ve been feeling and acting weird.”

“Feeling and acting weird? Like what?” N asked in a concerned tone.

“Well, most of my symptoms pop up when I’m with you. Or when I think of you. I’m pretty sure this faulty code has formed some subliminal association with you and…” Uzi droned (haha, droned? And they’re drones? … I’m so sorry) on about what on Copper-9 it could possibly be.

“Are you sure it’s not just because I’m your friend?” N asked.

“I mean… I guess it’s possible. I’ll have to run some tests.” Uzi looked N up and down, “And I guess the tests will also have to be with you since you seem to be the trigger for this glitch.”

N’s tail slightly wagged at the thought of doing science-y things with Uzi. He didn’t really care what happened, as long as he was with her.

“Alright, first I need you to hug me.” Uzi instructed.

N was slightly shocked. Uzi did not like physical affection. Yet still, he loved hugs and would oblige. (Woah oblige, I got fancy there)

As N hugged Uzi, she felt her metal cheeks slightly overheat. She pulled back.

“Why are his hugs so freakishly big and warm and- ugh that sounds weird-“ N’s voice pulled Uzi out of her thoughts.

“Woah, there’s weird lines all around your visor!” He commented.

“Wait really?!” Uzi was not aware of that side effect. She rushed to a mirror, and her face was indeed covered in lines below her eyes and across her robot imitation of a nose.

(artists rendition: o o l ///////////////// )

“I’ve never seen this symbol before… I’ll have to do some research.” Uzi muttered to herself.

N’s visor suddenly had the same lines as the reason behind this “glitch” struck him.

“I did the same thing when I had a crush on V… does this mean she likes me?”

“N! Do you have the glitch too?” Uzi sounded panicked.

“I’m fine Uzi! I’ll probably be fine!” Is what he said aloud, but internally he was a mess.

“OH ROBOGOD MY CRUSH LIKES ME BACK AGHHHH! Well, maybe? Don’t actually know. Maybe it is really just a glitch?”

After conducting various tests, Uzi slumped on the ground and let out a long groan.

“Why in the HELL can’t I figure out what’s happening?” She complained.

N sat next to her, holding a can of oil.

“Oil?” He offered.

Uzi took the can and aggressively sipped it.

While Uzi fumed, the two just sat next to each other. And after a bit, their hands met. Intertwined. Those odd lines appeared, lining their visors. They’d probably chalk it up to the bug, but I’ll be the omniscient narrator who breaks the fourth wall:

there was no glitch.

#murder drones #liam vickers animation #n murder drones #n md #murder drones uzi #nuzi #biscuitbites #n x uzi #serial designation n #uzi doorman #fanficiton #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #fluff #ahhh they’re so cute!#I love them #otp

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alexiswritingstuff · 1 year

Text

A Man And His Guard. 1/2

Status: Completed.

Pairing: Gustavo Fring x male reader.

Other appearances: Mike Ehrmantraut.

Summary: During the rise of Gus’ paranoia, Mike hires you in an attempt to ease it. You work where he does, do everything he says and later even learn that you are to go home with him.

Neither of you knew what to expect of each other, but how does one Mr. Fring react when you will not stop making... comments.

Warnings: flirting.

Always be aware that there might be spelling mistakes and such in my writing. I do read over them, but they can just slip under my radar sometimes.

A/N: I think this is the first time I am actually writing a male reader fic so I hope I do it justice. I am a male myself but I rarely use gendered terms with the reader anyway.

Also I’m like terrible at flirting so if the readers lines aren’t great then... my bad ig.

This is a two part series, so begin waiting for the next edition to arrive!

I hope you enjoy!

More Gustavo fics.

It was around the time that Lalo Salamanca was presumed ‘not dead’ when you had gotten the job.

Their crew was sparse, most had been taken up at posts where they surveyed the other properties/places that Mr. Fring usually went to. So Mike reached out with an offer.

You knew him from work done in the past where you had acted as a guard for a person he wanted to meet, for a reason you had later learned, but that specific guy had a target on his back from a lot of local businesses.

For this job, like many others, you had no idea what you were getting into. And even if there was a proper brief, none of it would prepare you for what would actually come.

Gustavo Fring had been a name thrown around many times in your life. A very common thing when working in this particular field.

But, seeing him right there in the flesh, on practically a daily basis at this point, was a thing that there wasn’t any words to describe. Because usually no one lived to even talked about it, or, obviously, they weren’t allowed to.

It was some time in the late hours of the afternoon, the liveliness of restaurant slowly reducing as time went by.

There were barely any customers occupying the booths or the neighbouring tables, and the new people coming in usually just wanted something for the road if they couldn’t be bothered to wait in the drive through.

You were moving amidst the dinning area, the long dust pan and brush in hand as you collected up stuff that had fallen during peoples meals, and swept across the beige tiles that felt increasingly bright in the sun.

The surroundings were still a bit noisy. People were chatting away, cars passed at almost every minute, there was muffled clatter from the other employees as they moved around kitchen equipment as they cooked.

It wasn’t that bad.

In fact, the only thing that you didn’t really like about ‘working’ in Los Pollos Hermanos was the need to wear its uniform.

Being a guard in this side of the business usually enforced the wearing of dark coloured clothes. It was a way to keep up a feeling of mystery, provide the impression that you were a person not to be messed with.

But there you were, stood in an obnoxiously bright yellow shirt which was paired with that damn red visor and a matching apron, to top it all off.

This might as well have been a punishment than a job.

After however long, you completed your round of the dinning area and ducked into the hallway beside the drinks machine, finding the place where you had initially picked up the dust pan and brush to return them.

And you did, a deep breath filling your lungs once the equipment was leaned back up against the wall.

It had been a long time since you had worked around a plethora of people and their own individual personalities, so coming to this work place almost felt jarring in comparison. People were properly polite. Gave smiles that were actually genuine.

The clear of someone's throat emitted from somewhere to the left, and your head turned in that direction immediately, your feet soon following, “Mr. Fring.”

“Has the floor been cleaned?” The way he dressed for work was always so smart, though it kind of reminded you of SpongeBob, and it perfectly matched with a lot of things about him.

You gave him a simple nod, “Yes, it has.”

“There are still a few customers out there, so I’ll do the last round once they leave.” you then explained and turned yourself to face the doorway that lead to the main area, attempting to peer round it so that you could see into the dinning area again and the car park through the windows.

“Any signs?”

The words left you just blinking for a moment. You had thought by taking your leave from the conversation that it would bring on its end. But now you were looking back to the man who hadn’t moved a step.

Anyone else would’ve been confused at what he had meant by that question. but you knew instantly. And even if it was your job to check, it sort of made you feel bad that you had to.

“No one came.” you stated, plain and simple so that it wouldn’t display your pity, and Mr. Fring subtly took in a deep breath, his chin only slightly raising, “Good... Go clean the empty tables.”

Now was when he was about to walk away, probably to go back to his office to make calls as a way to further check if there was any new information, but when he watched your face crinkle up in what looked like distaste at the task he had just given you.

He seemed to become a little distracted.

“Do I at least get paid more?”

Sure, Mr. Fring had a lot of encounters with many different people, each with their own separate way of approaching things, different ways of speaking.

But no one had ever attempted to talk the way that you did. Especially when in direct contact.

It was a thing that could only make him stare, even glare, in an attempt to hide his surprise. But it wouldn’t shake you. In fact all you did was shrug, “Oh, well.” you breathed out, giving him one last glance before you moved to get the cleaning supplies.

“I guess if it’s for you then I’ll do it.”

You found yourself making your way through the many hallways of Los Pollos Hermanos. An amount that after a long day made the building feel like a maze, though the size wasn’t even comparable to one.

Soon, you had located the way to your bosses door, a deep breath sucking into your lungs before you raised your hand to knock against it. The sound was the only thing that filled the hallway.

“It’s Y/n. Y/n L/n, Sir.” you called quickly, realising that at this time he was always expecting to be in danger. A mysterious knock to his door wasn’t exactly going to help with that.

It took a good minute for there to be any kind of response, but after it sounded like an object had been set down, the muffled voice finally came through the gaps of the door.

“Come in.”

Your hand grabbed at the handle, the cool metal almost shocking the warmth of your skin, before you twisted it until the door was pushable. “Hey,” you had began, ready to step into the new room. But that was quickly halted when your eyes fell on its contents.

It was very dark compared to literally any other room in the building. The walls may have been a little darker already, but because of him relying on only the light from the sun and a lamp residing on his desk, it took you a moment to actually see anything.

You cleared your throat when your gaze landed on a waiting Mr. Fring, “Sorry to interrupt-- Lyle said that you wanted to see me earlier?” you explained and finally stepped into the room so that you could close the door behind you.

“I didn’t know I had made such an impact already.”

Mr. Frings eyebrows had twitched in a way that almost wasn’t visible. However, the rest of his face didn’t change, “When accepting the job, did Ehrmantraut explain what it would hold?”

Your shoes scraped the ground as you stopped yourself about a step away from his desk. Your back straightened as you took a moment to think, “He barely does when he has an offer.” you pointed out simply, though your tone changed when you next spoke. “Was I wrong?”

“Did he mention that you would be working for me... personally?”

In that moment, you had paused for about three seconds, even if it had felt like 10 minutes in your head, as a certain word rung through your ears over and over again.

“Personally, huh...” you repeated. It tasted sweet on your lips, your mind running very fast over any of the things that it could mean. “I guess I didn’t quite catch that part... But I like the sound of it.”

Through your now, slightly, dazed state, you had missed the way Mr. Fring had lowered his head just a tad. His lips were pressed together. His eyebrows begging to furrow though he wouldn’t let them, especially when you had spoke again.

“Am I supposed to go get you stuff? Run errands, drive you places-- That kind of thing?”

The man before you almost huffed a laugh. He dipped his head as he slowly pushed back his chair. “In the future, it is possible.” Mr. Fring was now stood up from his seat, his feet taking him round his desk in such a slow pace that it had your pulse raising. “But for now we are going to my home.”

He stopped in front of you, about two and a half steps away, with that strong gaze he always held. Though this time it most definitely felt different as your breath was close to hitching, “Now I really do like the sound of this.”

In about a second, Mr. Frings body had entirely stiffened.

It was unnoticeable to people who had just met him as he was usually quite a ridged person, the wind couldn’t even sway him. But to someone that knew him enough, it was clear as day.

The intimidation he had held on his face had faded as if it had just been wiped off with a cloth. It was almost like he had forgotten how to breathe.

Suddenly, before you could clock anything, Mr. Fring turned towards his desk like there should be someone waiting on the other side. It almost startled you. But soon, a hand of his reached across the surface of the table.

“Mr. Fring?” you had questioned, any and all excitement now being swarmed by confusion.

Just as you were about to move, try to catch the look on his face, his feet had began to twist until the rest of his body urged to follow. And now, he stood, facing you once again.

His eyes were aimed at what you could now see was some kind of sticky note folded in half, and then they flicked to yours.

His chin raised until it was in level with your own and by the next time you had blinked, the note was held out in front of you.

“Read it.” was all he said when you hadn’t taken it, and after just looking at him for a moment, you sucked in a quiet breath, retrieving the paper from between his fingers.

By the time you had began unfolding it, Mr. Fring had turned once again, making his way back to his deskchair when your eyes landed on the word in black ink.

“Lakeview?” The chair squeaked beneath him as he sat, but besides that he didn’t even bother to look up. He simply grabbed a pen and dragged a clipboard in front of his eyes.

“Am I allowed to ask, or is this going to be a game of hard to get?” The urge to smirk tugged at the corners of your mouth when the tip of his pen visibly stilled. Though, when Mr. Frings head slowly raised as if it was in slow motion, that feeling had stopped in a instant.

His eyes were almost harsh when they met with yours, as if they could pierce right through your own. They never moved and as time passed, he hadn’t even blinked. “I’m sure you can figure it out.”

It was a warning. He knew it, you knew it.

So, guess his surprise when the only thing you had done in response was, once again, simply shrug your shoulders.

His whole body froze like it had done before, though this time he hadn’t broken the eye contact.

Every other person he had met, even ones that worked for him, crumbled under his gaze when someone had pressed his patience or authority. They would look away, forget how to speak, or quickly turn on their feet to do whatever he had asked.

But not you.

Your shoes were planted in the same place as before until you wanted them to move.

“You know, I do like a good game, Mr. Fring.” It was so silent in that room that it was like you could physically see your words pierce through the air. A pin could drop and the sound could be heard as if it was played through a thousand speakers. “I think having an opponent like you is going to be great fun.”

That was when you had officially turned on your heel. The smirk broke across your lips the moment you faced the door, and even more so when it had opened.

By the time you were back in the hallway, sifting the post-it back and forth between your fingers, the image of Mr. Frings expression was clear in your mind in a way that made it so hard to not laugh.

His lips were parted. Every muscle in his face looked as if it had been frozen in time, tense. He looked like a deer caught in headlights.

He almost lost the grip he had on his pen.

You ended up back in the main area of the restaurant, your eyes being hit with a much dimmer colour this time as the sun began to hide.

All the tables had already been cleared earlier by you, and Mr. Fring when he couldn’t keep his mind occupied. The customers had gone home, hopefully pleased with their meals, which let an almost eerie silence hang in the air as the other employees had left too.

You moved through the rows of tables, searching for even the slightest speck of dirt or trail of crumbs that would set a certain man off if he saw. But there was nothing.

It had all been more than thoroughly cleaned.

So, you ended up by the table next to the entrance, a slight sigh huffing through your nose. Your body wound round the back of bench closest to the door, a hand reaching for the red blinds that covered the window.

Your fingers parted two of the slats, and you made yourself slightly lean over the bench so that you could get closer to the glass that lay beneath the blinds.

Upon first glance of the world outside, everything seen was slowly being engulfed by the black mass of night. One so deep that it had started to prevent the ability to see the horizon.

The only car in the parking lot was Mr. Frings, coloured in such a way that it would’ve been invisible in the evening light if it wasn’t for the reflections from the surrounding lamps.

There was no one in the car, no one outside of it, and no other vehicle stalking around, as the rest were just general cars that passed by on the main road, and that was now like every 10-15 minutes.

After making sure that there was complete satisfaction with the fact that there was not a singular person in the vicinity, you let the slats set back into the original places, stepping away from the window so you could make your way through the restaurant.

Again.

The sigh that left your mouth this time was of relief when you opened the door, to what would be a supply closet for anyone else. There they were, sat in the neatest pile you could be bothered to put them in. Your clothes.

Pretty much the only item of your own that you got to keep during the day was your shoes, so when that sweet sweet fabric was in your hands, it was utter peace. Paradise. Like reuniting with a long lost lover.

Upon imagining how a person would look standing in the middle of a closet and practically cradling a set of clothes, however, you straightened yourself up into the usual guard posture, any remnants of excitement fading from your face.

And then you swivelled on your foot, leaving the closet like you had never even been in there.

By the time you had gotten to the front of the restaurant all over again, the clothing happily held in your hand, it seemed that a certain Mr. Fring had beat you to it.

There was no way to tell if he had disliked having to stand there waiting as his head was directed towards the window you had been look through before, his hands clasped behind his back that made him properly appear like a business man.

Or just an old man.

If you could see his face however, you thought that you would’ve seen that usual, intentionally, blank expression. A theory that was then proven to be true when you had stopped by his side. You cleared your throat, “I take it we’re going to yours now?”

His spine straightened in about a second when your voice found his ears. He had gotten lost, his gaze consumed by the endless possibilities of what waited for him outside the restaurant.

But in the next second, by the next time he had breathed, his body twisted towards you like he had been standing like that the whole time. The previous vacant look that carried across his face was replaced by a smile, though his eyes had not changed.

And that was it. That was all you got.

Mr. Fring passed right by you without another word, his footsteps echoing around the unsettlingly empty room, before he made his way through the door with the exit sign shining above it.

When it had closed again, further encasing the restaurant in a strong silence, you had begun to blink, your brain at least attempting to process what had just happened.

However, the longer you stood there, the further away Mr. Fring became, and by now he was on the path between the rows of parking spaces. Getting closer and closer to his car.

You almost stumbled over your feet as you made your way over to the exit yourself.

The door opened in a flash, engulfing your skin in the night air, and you were about to continue walking... Until you heard the jingle in your pocket. “Shit.”

There was a meeting that you had with Mike about a day prior. He gave a run down of the usual stuff that went down in Los Pollos Hermanos and, at least, the basic duties that the boss would have you do.

You were given a set of keys, each for pretty much any place that Mr. Fring had access to himself. Now it seemed that he was testing your memory.

After glancing back at Mr. Fring, you let out a hushed grunt, pulling the keys out of your pocket from under your apron, and then turned back to the door, locking it in a speed that should’ve gained you an award.

You swivelled round after doing a test pull on the handle and basically began jogging to catch the man who was now very close to that blue vehicle.

But just as the distance was beginning to shorten, a few things began piecing together.

The sudden change, the smile that he used on other employees, something that he hadn’t used on you all day until it was time to leave the safety of the restaurant.

You understood that he would have to put on an act at some point, sure. Though apparently it hadn’t occurred to you what that would mean until now.

He was the boss, and you were just some random guy who had a job in his business.

That doesn’t exactly give the right to catch a ride with him, now did it?

“Uh, Mr. Fring?”

The man himself had just placed a hand on the roof of his vehicle. His eyes were once again aimed into the distance, and it took about five seconds to get himself back as he then turned to you, the same smile taking over his lips, “Yes, Y/n?”

“I believe that I’m supposed to be getting picked up on something called Lakeview. Would you happen to know where that is?”

It wasn’t a name for a person, as you knew for a fact that if the man in front of you had a target of any kind he would just straight up say it, and it wasn’t going to be a place because Mike would’ve at least said something.

It was a pickup point.

Mr. Frings chin slowly raised. And now, with the smile that took over his lips, his eyes seemed to crinkle with it, “Lakeview road?”

Your spine straightened, all the air coming into your lungs feeling like it was on hold, especially when you nodded your head as a commitment to your idea.

Mr. Fring simply turned his head upon the confirmation, and he pointed towards the road on the other side of the main one, which was directly across from the proper entrance of Los Pollos Hermanos.

You squinted your eyes after following the direction, trying to see the road that was partially illuminated by a streetlight as your shoulders attempted to ease from the previous tension.

And then you spotted it. A car parked beside the red fencing.

It was one that you didn’t recognise, but still.

You were right.

In order to keep the smug look off of your face, you lightly bowed your head when your attention went back to your boss. “Thank you, Sir.” you said and Mr. Fring simply copied your previous movement before finally opening his door.

“Have a good night.”

By the time his car had left the grounds of Los Pollos Hermanos, you had made it to the edge of the main road. You were stood on the concrete sidewalk, a streetlight towering over your head as you looked back and forth to gage where any oncoming traffic was.

You only had to do it once for each side, tonight apparently being a night where not many people were aiming to travel.

So on you went, now jogging across the two lanes until you got to the other side like that one chicken did. Your shoed feet were met with a mix of sand and stones this time as there was no sidewalk to even the ground.

And then there it was in front of you.

A blue RAV4.

The driver must have sensed the new presence as within the next second, the door on their side had opened, a scene that had your feet slowing by the time the figure was out of the car.

It was a woman. One you had seen in a picture when Mike showed members of the crew working for Mr. Fring. Mrs. Ryman? Her and her husband were the people ‘occupying’ the safe house.

“Mr. L/n?” she questioned, and as soon as you gave her a nod of confirmation, she immediately proceeded to walk to the back of the car before any sort of question could fall from your lips.

She grabbed the handle on the left side of the door and pulled on it until it was open about half way so that your eyes could cast onto whatever was inside. You almost tilted your head like a dog.

There, in the back of a damn car, laying on his side very uncomfortably, was none other than Mike Ehrmantraut himself.

It all made sense.

It was late at night. Mr. Fring had now left Los Pollos Hermanos, meaning that if anyone was watching him, they would have followed his car to see where he was going next.

None one was watching you.

The urge to laugh was fighting itself way up your throat, but you took a deep breath in through your nose and let yourself walk forward when Mrs. Ryman had turned to you expectantly.

“You didn’t have another one of those sandwiches today, did you?” A grunt followed your words as you practically shoved yourself into the trunk of this random car, and shifted until the left side of your body was fully pressing into Mike’s.

The door was only just able to close again.

The surroundings were plunged into darkness. A few beams of light managed to filtered through the gaps in the backseats and the trunk cover enough so that you could make out the face of the man before you as you dropped your pile of close on your lap.

“I see you worked it out.”

Your body felt like it sunk into the walls of the car though it had barely moved, your hands raising to rub at the skin of your face either in disbelief or tiredness, “I will admit that I thought you were talking about an actual lake at first.”

Mike huffed a laugh at that, the two of you slightly rocking together when the car started backing up. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t try to find one.”

“Me too.”

Despite the fact that you were currently sat, cramped, in the back of a car. There was a feeling of comfort that had been kept from you throughout the day. Especially now that Mike was with you.

He might’ve been a man that has killed multiple people, and is not afraid to do the same to more... but so are you.

When you are on the right side, his right side, he’s just another old guy that you would see walking down the street, or sitting in a restaurant.

Being in this business meant needing to keep connections with certain people hidden so that they wouldn’t end up getting hurt as a result of someone trying to prove a point.

He was the closest thing to family.

Mike let one of those deep breaths seep through his nose, and you swear it almost sounded like the huff of a dragon. His head leaned back into the wall behind him. “How’s Gus?”

Ah. The question you knew was bound to be asked soon.

You shuffled slightly even if it wouldn’t do much, more scared of accidently kicking Mike in the ribs than anything else now. “Obsessed with me.”

The look Mike gave you was one that you could feel even if you couldn’t properly see it, and you tried not to smile as you fiddled with label of the shirt you held. The man most definitely rolled his eyes. “No, no... He’s obsessed with everything else to be honest.”

A sigh passed from your lips into the air inside the car.

Your head shook, a mixture of emotions filtering through your body as your mind reminded itself of Mr. Frings previous behaviour. “He really wants him to just show up already, but... man, I don’t know. I’m not sure if he’s actually prepared for that.”

“Well. That’s why you’re there.”

You tried to fully sit upright, only getting about half way before you looked at Mike with narrowed eyes, “Yeah, about that-- You know, when you said that you needed my skills, I was thinking more along the lines of stakeouts or surveillance stuff, or like... having me fight someone at least.”

“I didn’t exactly prepare to become a janitor.”

The car was most definitely somewhere down the main road by now. Mike’s head remained where it was, not even bothering to tilt it in your direction when he next spoke as he simply closed his eyes instead. “Still part of the job.”

You stifled a scoff, just watching the man when he attempted to cross his arms over his chest. “Gives you more acting lessons too.” Mike then added and you supressed the urge to kick him, more like nudge him, with your foot. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” It was your turn to roll your eyes.

“You’re still paying me more.”

The sky above was pitch black by the time of arrival on Jefferson Street. The quiet outside, the warmth of the car, and the general darkness worked together in a way that was the opposite for most people.

The distance between Los Pollos Hermanos and Mr. Frings house was far enough that if there was a kid sitting in one of the backseats they would be in a deep sleep.

But as an adult, you were wide awake. Especially when you felt the car begin to slow after a turn.

You attempted to prop yourself up from your slouched position, your eyes trying to find an angle where you could see out the window, despite the fact that it was very much impossible to do from inside a trunk.

“We’ll be out in a minute.” Mike assured, observing your many attempts at moving. You sunk back, mirroring his position when you hit into the wall of the car, “And how do you know that?”

As if on cue, the ride to the house seemed to have come to an end. The car stopped, again slightly jolting the two of you together. “We’re in the garage.” The monotonous edge to his voice was audible more than ever.

You could only blink for a moment as the muffled sound of someone getting out of the car echoed through what most definitely was a garage. “Jeez-- How many times have you had to do this?” you questioned, and it had Mike’s head shaking in a second, a grunt rumbling through his throat.

The door beside you finally opened, and though you had to squint due to the sudden light, you swung your legs to the side, eagerly pushing yourself out of the trunk.

“Oh, man.” you breathed out once on your own two feet, and moved to the side so that Mike could get himself up while you stretched your arms high above your head in a way that your spine needed very much. “Do we really have to do that every time?”

“It’s the safest way.” Mike insisted as he closed up the car and your head shook, “Seriously?” But he ignored you, starting to walk through the garage. “Follow me.”

Even after a ride like that it was immediately work time.

You wanted to complain until you couldn’t speak anymore, but nevertheless you complied and followed behind the man like a duckling does with its mother.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes flickered around the room when Mike opened the door to what was originally a living room, “Hey, Mike.” a man had called, and Ehrmantraut started to spark up a conversation.

However, when your gaze landed on the desk that his friend was sat at, your brain seemed to tune it out.

There was about about seven different monitors on and working. Each screen displayed a shot from wherever the camera was placed. It varied from the entrance and exits of this house to what you assumed was Mr. Frings.

But even then they seemed to changed at the click of a button to an entirely different location.

Maybe he was prepared.

“L/n.”

Your eyes snapped to the door way to find Mike stood about halfway through it. He tilted his head to the side and you began walking all over again when you realised what he meant.

So, now, he lead you through the hallways of the house. You nodded at anyone you passed, seemingly understanding the tired look on their faces though this was your first proper day.

Eventually you found yourself in the basement of the house, and while Mike continued through the room, your feet slowed on the platform before the last two steps, your eyes yet again being consumed by the new atmosphere.

This was where the couple stayed after doing their daily appearance out of the house, as the rest was swarmed by a bunch of dudes.

They had most of the stuff they need. They had cupboards, a kitchen area along the furthest wall, a clothing wrack. There was a king sized bed, and a table to your right where they could sit and do whatever they wanted if they weren’t upstairs at this time.

And though your mind practically begged you to continue looking around. A certain question sprung through your thoughts.

“Listen, I appreciate the fact that there are a lot of things you can’t tell me about this job,” you began, a hand placing down on the little railing, “But am allowed to ask why you have just lead me into a basement?”

Ehrmantraut was now stood in front of the big shelf that sat at the corner of the right wall. It extended to the ceiling but the width was about 4 columns worth. Your eyebrows were quick to furrow when he reached for one of the shelves.

Even more so when quiet beeps sounded from what only could be a keypad.

“Mike?” you had questioned, a mild laziness to your voice as your brain consumed itself with finding the source of noise. And then your feet finally moved, allowing you off of the platform, onto the carpet.

But it seemed you had stopped as fast as you had started.

Your body almost jolted when a mechanical sound pierced through the air, and soon, Mike grabbed onto the middle divider with both hands, beginning to pull on it as hard as he could.

A rumbling rippled through the floor you stood on as the shelf scuffed against the carpet, and despite your disbelief, the mechanism disconnected from the first column of shelf.

It was opening like a natural door would. There was certain things on shelves that shook with the movement, though others appeared as if they had been glued down. Just there for decoration.

It wasn’t until the shelf door was turned as much as it could against it’s hinges that your eyes allowed you to focused on what lay beneath it. Your jaw almost dropped.

It was a tunnel.

There was a goddamn tunnel that connected this house to the next.

“No way.”

Mike didn’t have to tell you twice when he signalling for you to follow him this time, and upon going through the doorway, turning into the passage, it almost gave you chills.

But that was more due to the fact that the temperature was different than in the house.

The walls of the tunnel were a grey concrete. One rose higher than the other leading the ceiling to have to curve to meet with them both, and support beams, the same colour as the walls they were up against, were placed about two steps apart, the lights situated between them.

Not even a deep breath could ease the speed of your heart. In fact the closer the journey was to its end, the faster it went.

So, when the back of, what you were assuming was, the same mechanism as in the previous house was now right in front of Mike, your shoulders fought to lower.

There was a combination of knocks that the man did against the smooth door. A sound that echoed through your ears over and over again the way ripples moved in water.

Mike took about a step back with a sniff when muffled beeps came through the, practically invisible, cracks of the door, and your body instinctively straightened like a soldier in front of their commander.

The door had opened.

There was no reasoning for the way you felt right then and there.

You had met Mr. Fring earlier. You had seen him, you had spoken, exchanged even informal parts of conversation, and have stood beside each other on multiple occasions.

So why, as you stared back at the man who was now revealed in one of his usual suits, was it like your lungs had forgotten their very function.

Mr. Fring gave Mike a nod to which the man did the same, and before you knew it, with a clear of his throat, Ehrmantraut turned on his feet, beginning to make his way back through the tunnel.

Your lips parted as you watched him go, though no words could even try to roll off of your tongue. The scuff of his shoes were the only thing to echo through the air, so when that familiar voice broke through, it had your head turning back within seconds.

“L/n.”

His eyes were already on yours by the time you were back to your original stance.

Your eyebrows were raised, a mixture of eagerness and excitement rumbling through your chest and ears when he tilted his head to the side. A gesture that Mike had used earlier to get you to follow him. “Come in.”

Just you and Mr. Fring.

“I’ll show you around.”

#gustavo fring #gus fring #gustavo fring x reader #gustavo fring x male reader #gus fring x reader #better call saul #better call saul x reader #mike ehrmantraut #male reader #bcs

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shootingstarpilot · 10 months

Text

Speaking of "kill your darlings," I promised y'all a scene that got axed once Chapter 4 went up, so have this AU version of Cody's return to the Negotiator:

When he blinks, he feels the steel floors of the Negotiator under his boots, and one more piece of Cody clicks back into place.

Helix stands in front of him, eyes narrowed, hands on his forearms–

“–der. Cody.”

“I hear you,” he manages.

The hands squeeze.

“Good. Then I don’t feel bad about blaming you for my blood pressure.”

“Oh, hello to you too,” Cody mutters. “Aren’t I your commanding officer?”

“I give less of a shit every passing day,” Helix says, and his smile is just a tad manic as he propels Cody in the direction of the freshers. “Like the armor wasn’t enough– the two of you are sickening. Disgusting. I can’t believe I’ve had to put up with you for this long. I can’t believe I did.”

Cody blinks at him. “What?”

Helix kicks the door open and shoves him inside, but Cody reaches out, seizes his arm– because Helix is here, but why had he met him in the landing bay when he was supposed to be in medical with–

“Where’s Obi-Wan?”

Helix stops, sighs, his shoulders slumping–

“Pulling the kid out of whatever Force-damned trap the Sith stuck him in,” he says heavily. “Risk of psychic backlash, that’s the only reason I’m not– Stitch is monitoring remotely–”

He stops. Looks down at Cody’s hand. Grabs it before he can think to retreat.

“Your knuckles are bruised,” he says slowly. His fingers press along the bones, searching for fractures, for movement in things that should not be moving– “What happened?”

Cody cringes.

“Jinn grabbed me from behind,” he mutters. “I– reacted.”

The hands still.

“You punched him?”

“Don’t get pissy about it,” Cody hisses. “You could have given me a bit more to work with. I know you said not to start any fights, but–”

He stops. Helix’s lips are twitching.

“Oh, no,” he says flatly. “What a tragedy.”

“Helix.”

“What? Did he punch back?”

“No, but–”

“Then technically not a fight,” Helix says cheerfully, giving his hand a pat and promptly dropping it. “No harm done.”

“I think I broke his nose.”

“No harm that matters,” he amends, and pushes Cody towards the sink. “Wash,” he orders. “Blood on your face. Scrub up. Take an inventory. I will be right outside because I don’t trust you not to pass out and make my life that much harder, you ass– sir. Ten minutes.”

He’s gone before Cody can string together another sentence.

Right. Okay. Wash up. He can do that.

He yanks at the faucet. Splashes water on his face. Soaps up his hands, scrubs roughly at the dried blood, watches it flake off, swirling around the drain, staining the suds pink–

(“A chip embedded here could essentially override your free will–”)

“Stop it,” he says, his voice echoing in the empty fresher. “Stop it.”

Would he have been trapped inside his own head? Made to witness? Or would he have just been– gone?

Obi-Wan trusts him, and he would have–

He hiccups.

They’re alive. The Sith is dead, and they’re alive. He splashes his face once more, washing away the salt, scrubbing at his eyes, and pushes himself up, glancing in the mirror–

And freezes.

The cut had carved upwards across his cheek, ending just under his left eye where the visor had cracked. Deep and bloody and stinging– he’d just counted himself lucky that it had been under the eye instead of over. If the blood had messed with his aim, things could have turned out very differently.

(He’s alive.)

Helix’s reaction–

And Waxer’s expression–

“Looks like the General took care of that one for you, sir–”

The blazing warmth of Obi-Wan’s hand against his cheek–

A silver of clear sky in the storm–

Yeah. He had, hadn’t he?

Arcing up and across his cheek, sealing the cut shut, sharp and jagged and bright–

A thin white line.

Almost like lightning.

Cody stares. Tilts his head.

He raises his hand to his face, mimicking–

Yes. Exactly where Obi-Wan had– before he’d–

He leans forward, braces his elbows against the sink, and laughs until he cries.

Eventually, he grabs a towel. Dries his face. Runs his fingers again over his newest scar.

Helix is waiting for them when he steps outside, and the two of them head for the bridge.

They’ll find each other.

They always do.

The reasons I ended up going with something else:

Pissy Helix is fun to write, but I wanted to emphasize exactly how rattled Cody was, and I felt it was more true to form for Helix to set aside that attitude to make sure Cody was okay when he realized he was dealing with a BIG PTSD flare-up from getting grabbed.

I wanted the scar reveal to come from Obi-Wan's POV, because I felt like a lot of the CodyWan moments so far have come from Cody's POV and it was Obi-Wan's turn to be Absolutely Smitten.

Waxer and Boil have absolutely been telling EVERYBODY what went down, and I thought it was unrealistic for Helix not to know since they had dropped Cody off with him. >:)

#shoulder the sky #dunno how authors dealt with doing this without being able to share their beloved corpses #anyway hope you enjoy!!#there will be more reactions to The Punch to come

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thewriterowl · 1 year

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Reading about Luke embracing mandalorian culture and wears an armor along with his Jedi robes, but here is the thing, what if he was raised to do both, that since he was little, in a world where order 66 doesn't happened, the clones would probably help in that and Luke and Leia could become mandalorian-jedi, the mandalorians shouldn't have a problem with that since the Darksaber used to belong to one, but they don't really take of their helmets often or is something Anakin told them not to do in front of people(the overprotective dad that he is) so people really like them because of their personalities.

So when Luke and Leia meets Din and probably some others from their tribe and take of their helmets, because they wanted to take a breath, all mandos see how pretty they are and everything goes from there, there are going to be battles for their hands, lots of courting gifts and probably gaining a fan club that would do anything for them, imagine how happy, proud and smug Din would be when he ends up marrying Luke to their faces, if he survives Anakin of course.

I will start off by saying, I just love the image of Luke, after kicking ass in a spar or an actual fight, just takes his helmet off, flips his hair back all unconsciously sexy, puffing out from his fight, cheeks all flushed, just standing their...and every single Mandalorian's necks like snapping to his direction and drool pouring from under their helmets and hearts shattering through their visors as they gaze at him and all decide, all at once, he needs to be wed asap.

Then Din winning because he is one of the strongest...and also the most feral for Luke and has no plans of losing when that gorgeous man was on the line.

If Luke was raised with Mandalorians and Jedi, it would just be such a fantastic mess and I love it so much!!

#owl inbox

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ammonitetheseaserpent · 4 months

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Body language/behavior part 2!

OC edition :0

Weird Frog

Energetic, with behavior that kind of blurs the line between attacking and play. It’s very playful when confronting intruders and quite rough & tumble when playing.

It gets zoomies like. a lot

It’ll do PARKOUR. take running leaps onto things (or people)

Does the fox thing aka diving nosefirst into surfaces like snow (or Celadon’s couch)

Nudging, rubbing, playful nips, air snaps, gnawing - it uses its mouth and snoot a lot to interact with others

Likes to play with the Packleader by sprinting around it, making mock lunges and climbing over it.

The Packleader

More reserved and languid, acting more like a huge breed of dog - or a lion.

Sometimes it’ll just be. on others. Definitely has that big-dog-that-thinks-it’s-a-lap-dog thing going on.

Usually walks on all fours but shifts to hind legs when moving quicker, like a hadrosaur.

When it wants someone’s attention, it’ll growl softly or paw at the ground depending on how badly the attention is wanted/needed.

You can tell when it’s had its fill of interaction because it’ll just. lay down with its back to you.

Moves very quietly, which makes it an effective ambush attacker, and also meaning that if it’s interested in what you’re doing you can turn around and it’ll just. suddenly be there.

Programmed to be protective of its pack and those it considers allies; a common way this instinct manifests is through picking them up and carrying them away from a perceived threat. The habit is so ingrained that it’ll occasionally pick up its friends just. on impulse, to interact with them (or at least it’ll try, if you’re too big for it to get you off the ground).

Another way it conveys protectiveness is to step closer to a friend’s side and draw itself up to its full height, sending the message to a potential threat that if they mess with you, they mess with it.

Likes to play with Weird Frog by picking it up and gently tossing it away, for it to then scamper right back to be thrown again.

Cure PHX

Takes a good chunk of body language and behavior from DDs and Sentinels (ie. the head tilting, tail wagging and a good chunk of the wing positioning), but also does a lot of their own, pretty reptile-like things as well.

Will sometimes flatten themselves on the ground when nervous.

Can make a low, rumbling sound deep in their chest to convey contentment or comfort.

Likes to sunbathe, and will often loaf in one place for hours at a time, their head tucked away and their wings spread across the ground.

Likes to dance (insert Toothless meme here) and will sometimes tap dance in place to entertain themselves.

To assert themselves, they’ll bob their head and slowly raise their wings.

Since they can’t rely on speech to communicate, they’re very expressive in terms of nonverbal communication (also their beak makes a sharp, clear clack that’s very effective for using Morse code).

When approaching an injured bot, they shift into ‘let me help you’ mode: no sudden movements, wings and tail feathers folded, head lowered nonthreateningly and eyes locked onto the other’s visor in preparation to shoot off the painkilling signal.

#murder drones #murder drones sentinels #sentinels #ocs #md ocs #my ocs #original characters #random snippets of my day

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dinitride-art · 2 years

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Possessiongate - the monologue/Mike Wheeler got got (pt.1)

This now lives in my head rent free. Current theory is that Vecna attached himself to Mike somehow before he left Hawkins and has been fighting for control the entirety of season four- and that Mike’s been able to have some control because Will is his light. Vecna was described during the Hellfire game as being recognizable by his missing left eye and left hand. Important to also note that these are actually magical artifacts in D&D- I think they were both introduced in first edition before Vecna was even introduced into the lore/as a thing you could fight.

Yes I am starting yet another analysis of season four that I don’t know how many parts it will have- but I have a feeling its going to end up being stupidly long. Just like the Lighting analysis.

S4:E2 - Rink O’ Mania (Why Mike’s such a dick?)

Before I get into the whole Rink O’ Mania mess I noticed something during the airport scene.

Mike’s hiding his eyes. First it was with the sunglasses, and now it’s with the visor thing. I don’t have a picture on hand, but the shot of Mike asking about the painting sticks out to me. He’s very weird when he sees Will for the first time, caught completely off guard. It’s actually reminding me of, “he’s... my friend” or whatever Will says about Mike when he recognizes him when Will’s possessed. The Mind flayer/Vecna (up for debate who’s controlling who) knows who Mike and Joyce are. They also know who Will and El are, quite well. Vecna’s target this season was actually El- he wants her to look at him while he destroys everything. He wants someone to fight against.

I think that Mike might’ve been so weird when he saw Will because it through Vecna for a loop. Like, oh fuck there he is. The guy that can sense me. Or maybe he just wanted to fuck with Will. Because there is no reason that Mike should be weird around Will, yeah sure he knows he loves him at the end of season three but he was able to hug him goodbye. Twice, even.

Another thing I think might be happening here- that I’m more inclined to think this is- is that Mike is caught off guard when he sees Will because Will is his light. Who knows how long Vecna might have been in Mike’s head (I think it was the night the Chrissy gate opened- or that he’s been trying to get to Mike the whole time that the Byers have been away and just now is able to because of the open gate). But what if Will can snap him out of it and bring Mike back to being fully in control? Like, I don’t think Mike knows yet that Vecna’s in his head. But I think that Vecna knows that Will can snap Mike out of it and that’s why he’s getting Mike to keep his distance/ignoring Will all day. And not mentioning Will’s birthday just to fuck with him- because Vecna knows when Will’s birthday is. He learnt that info like two years ago in the Byers shed. And he also learnt how much Mike cares about Will and vise versa.

So, if Vecna’s using Mike as a way to mess with El and Will- and as a spy- then he also knows how to keep Mike in line. And why he’s keeping Mike away from Will when something happens that fucks with El.

Also they’re mirroring each other here like theyr were in the monologue. Which could be saying that season 2 and Will’s possession is paralleling Mike’s season four possession.

This isn’t as strong but thought I’d mention it anyways- Mike and Will are paralleling each other again with both positions in shot and their shoe sizes. But also 10 is very clear on both of their skates- and not on El’s. We’re focusing on Mike and Will’s skates and it’s weird that 10 is the number below 11, yeah, but it’s also weird that it’s kinda just 1. So it might be saying that hey! One’s here! And he’s been in both Mike AND Will’s heads!

I’ve mentioned before that there’s an unnecessary focus on Will- and that Mike’s line, “you were rolling your eyes and moping” and basically narrating what we see above is proof that Mike’s been looking at him the whole time. Also the lighting difference on Will’s face. But we don’t get to see Mike looking at Will- which might make sense if Vecna’s not letting him talk to Will.

This shot- the disco ball that I now forgive but still feel really oblivious for not noticing it sooner- love you Rink O’ Mania disco ball. Anyways, it parallels the snow ball disco ball in season two where there’s an overwhelming theme of forced conromity and pink and blue and then parallels it again when Max gets...fucking hell, when Max GEts Vecna’D. Jesus Christ when will it end. So, I’ll add that to the ‘Vecna’s definitely in Mike’s head’ proof. ANYWAYS- as I was saying, the disco ball is drawing our attention to Will. And we know that Mike’s been paying attention to Will the whole time, but this makes it really clear.

It’s also why I think that Will being lit like this, and being positioned like this, are all saying that Will is Mike’s light. And that’s why Vecna hasn’t been able to fully take over Mike when he’s in Cali- also because he’s just really far away from Hawkins. And again, Mike’s visor is hiding his eyes.

Okay so El’s holding Mike’s left hand here which- welp. Uh, maybe is possibly referencing Vecna again. But these two shots are also paralleling the Snow Ball again, but instead of Mike being alone- it’s Will. And it’s also showing how we see Will a lot AND that he’s in front of light A LOT.

This disco ball is also really ominous as an opening shot. So like the tone of this scene is weird. It’s meant to be both happy, miserable, weird and forboding. Or at least that’s what I’m kinda getting from it- also looks a hell of a lot like the snowball again. Really bad signs all over this place

This shot is kinda creepy to me too. It looks like- actually Ive got a picture of this on hand, nice-

it looks like the mind flayer, just a bit. The long legs and the weirdly shaped head.

Also, the red brick makes reminds me of the red setting of the destroyed Creel house. Because there are quite a few settings in episode nine that are either red of blue- surfer boy pizza and the Creel house (mind edition) are red, and the Creel house (real), the Creel house (upside down) and the prison are all very blue or somewhat blue toned. The colour of the mind flayer (and Vecna) is red. The upside down is blue. So, I’m thinking that colour theory is at work here- with these specific colour associations. Mike also drinks from both his and El’s cups with red straws. And there’s no water in the upside down so maybe they want water y’know?

This is where it starts. Just barely. The red straw in shot is also pointing to Mike and visible when we look at Will. So Mike and El are placed in from of blue and red lights. Similar to the monologue with Mike and Will being in front of blue and red lights. When Angela roles up to the table she’s wearing two watches. On her left wrist no less. Time, clocks, Mike and Will’s matching watches, what’s about to happen with Mike’s left eye- Vecna’s at play here.

You see how Mike turns to look at El and his left eye gets a veil of dark shadow around it? Are yo seeing that shit? Like, Mike should know what’s going on here. He’s literally been bullied his whole life. He should know what’s happening. But he completely ignores it.

The light is shining on Will here again, because there’s some Vecna related shit going down with Mike and I think Mike’s trying to use Will as a way to ground himself. Blue and yellow lights behind Will also point to this. Mike was the person who Will relied on in season two to get back to himself. At the arcade- which parallels Rink O’ Mania in colours- with the strip of yellow and blue lights there as well (but they’re flipped/upside down in relation to each other. blues on top of yellow here- and yellow’s on top of blue at the arcade). But also when Will goes outside and sees the Upside Down (and the blue lights) the colour of the lightning bolt outside changes from yellow to green when Mike comes out and gets him- breaking him from the trance.

I think that the very same thing is happening her. But now it’s Mike instead of Will who needs to break out of the trance.

And when Mike and El are in this shot? It’s pretty different than the one before, sure the lightings gotten a bit more sinister but with Mike’s left eye it’s a bit excessive. The literal whites of his eyes are darker than before- like significantly. Where as with El it’s not nearly as jarring.

Mike’s left eye stays in the dark even as the shot pans out. He’s also sipping his drink again and the fact that it has a red straw and Mike’s in front of red brick and there’s a red light directly over him? I am so very suspicious.

AND WHEN MIKE GETS UP???? His left eye is like this still. It’s creepy. And exactly like the damn monologue. And Mike should have known El isn’t in a good situation here, he and all of his friends have been in situations like this forever. But the yellow and blue I think is a good thing- I think it’s signaling Mike talking back control. Even if he might not be aware what’s happening.

And just to show Will because Mike’s face is just so different. Despite them being in the same amount of light/facing the same light source, Will’s left eye isn’t ominously darkened like an evil is looking through and waiting for an opportunity to strike, y’know?

But here’s the thing

Mike and Will are kind of arguing and Mike’s face is all scrunched up (similar to how it was in the monologue). And Will’s glowing as per usual this season.

And then Mike snaps out of it. Staring at Will’s lips, yes, but also because Will is his light. Talking to Will changes Mike’s whole expression- and this is similar to how Mike looked at the airport when he saw Will. He looks confused and kind of surprised ish.

And then we see Mike LOOKING at Will. And Will’s in the light, and Mike’s still not, but we see him looking at Will. And the green, yellow and blue neon lights are behind him. That S also kinda looks just a bit like a lightning bolt.

And after talking to Will? His face starts going back to normal. Like immediately after. And then Mike goes and tries to stop what’s happening but he’s too late.

So, what if Vecna and Mike have been fighting over control this whole time- or maybe Vecna’s just been influencing Mike to do shit and Will keeps getting in the way? Like Mike did in season 2?

The parallels to season two and Will being possessed are paralleling so hard right now. This is the second scene that Mike’s been like this- the other one I looked at being the monologue. Like?? What was the reason for Mike’s eye to be like this twice? (probably more than that but I gotta make different posts for those- I’ll get back to ya’ll on that)

Vecna won’t leave Mike and Will the fuck alone.

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#byler #possessiongate #mike wheeler #the lights #damn all my theories and analysis are working together on this one #its an all hands on deck type of theory #like-watergate-thelights-colourtheory #things ive looked at in depth #are all here #and pointing to this #and its wild #the monologue

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martianbugsbunny · 9 months

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Torn Between Love And Fear (A Scogan Fic)

*decked out in yellow spandex* I've written my first Scogan fic! I'm literally so excited; I'm in love love love with these guys, both as characters and as a ship, so I just couldn't help myself! It's a lil spicy but not in like a salacious way (I don't think), it's more along the line of how a couple who have been together for a while and are still incredibly hot for each other would be. It sort of flows between angsty and spicy, so strap yourselves in and get yourselves ready! Also, be prepared for both Logan and Scott to be pretty soft at times, because the peak Scogan dynamic is bickering and sniping but also totally committed and in love. Please don't yell at me for my depiction of whether or not Scott's laser eyes could kill Logan (told you there were angsty parts lol); I went with the level of regenerative ability in that scenario that I thought worked best with the story.

Read on and enjoy!

Logan pulled out of Scott, spent, and kissed the side of Scott’s neck with a grin. “That noise you were making? I’m gonna have to hear that again,” he whispered, his voice low and slightly hoarse with the remnants of desire. He cupped one hand around Scott’s face, running his thumb across Scott’s tightly-closed eyelid. If there was one thing he regretted, it was that he could never see what color his partner’s eyes were, or that they could never lock eyes in the heat of the moment and see in each other reflected passion and euphoria.

“Whatever you say, boss,” Scott replied, that sarcastic bite in his tone dulled by an affectionate smile. He reached towards the nightstand for his visor; it had been a bit of a battle to get him even to take that off, but Logan really did prefer to at least be able to kiss him where usually the visor would be.

Logan took the opportunity to trace a small bruised spot on the back of Scott’s shoulder. “See? This is why.” He’d dug his fingers into the skin there, utterly blissed out on the heady sounds Scott was making that were in a sweet spot between screaming and moaning.

Scott laughed, sliding the visor back on over his eyes. “Yes, because I want your dirty fingers leaving behind more of those.”

Wrapping his arms around Scott, Logan pressed his lips to the mark, just barely grazing it with his teeth in the process. “I know you do,” Logan said. It wasn’t the first, and it wouldn’t be the last, eagerly welcomed bruise left on Scott’s body from an amorous, if rough, touch.

Scott shivered, then swatted at Logan’s hands. “Babe,” he scolded. “Don’t mess with me like that. Just because you don’t have a refractory period—”

“Yeah, I know. I’m Superman.”

Scott rolled his eyes (it was one of his greatest annoyances that Logan couldn’t actually see it when he did that) and handed Logan his tank top. There was a hesitance in his movements that made Logan uncomfortable; he was sure he knew where this was headed, and he didn’t like it.

“Logan, let me sleep with you tonight,” Scott said.

“We’ve had this conversation before.” Logan pulled away from Scott, putting on his shirt. “I have nightmares. Sometimes I can’t control when my claws come out, it’s not safe for you to be here.”

“Every time I say ‘I trust you,’ ‘I love you,’ ‘You wouldn’t hurt me,’ and every time I have to give up and leave,” Scott said more insistently. “I do trust you, and I do love you, that’s true, but yes, you also might hurt me. And I don’t care. It isn’t enough for me to leave your room and sleep alone, when we’ve just been as close as two people can possibly be and I want to keep your arms around me.”

Logan shook his head, unable to meet Scott’s gaze. He still remembered, vividly, the time he’d almost killed Rogue because he’d been having a nightmare and stabbed her without knowing it—and worse, the moment he realized what he had done; the spots of blood on her clothes and the look of pain and betrayal in her eyes.

And, he harbored no illusions about it, she had only survived because she could steal his regenerative abilities and heal herself. Logan knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he accidentally stabbed Scott and had to watch as his partner, the man he loved most in the world, bled out on the sheets that had been so recently clenched in his fists.

“Scott, I…I can’t.”

They were always torn here, between Scott’s “Shouldn’t I be allowed to choose to risk it myself?” And Logan’s “I’m the one who would have to live with it.”

Scott turned Logan back to face him, his hands so gentle it made Logan shake. That was what he couldn’t lose. “Logan, every time I take my visor off, I could kill you—look at me, Logan, this is serious.” It was still hard to meet his stare, which had softened at the same time it had gotten firmer. “If I opened my eyes for a second you could die.” Logan's regenerative powers were impressive, but a point-blank laser blast to his upper body would still probably be the end of him.

“But,” Scott continued, “I go visorless anyway, because it’s important to you that you can see, and touch, all of me while we’re having sex. If we can take that chance, why not this one?”

“I love you,” was all Logan could come up with. I would rather die than let you was a hard thing to say.

“One night, Logan. At least give me one night.”

Logan caught Scott’s face between his hands and kissed him, so much more delicately and slowly than he had before. It felt like melting; like if they just lingered in that embrace for long enough they might become one and be unable to ever split themselves apart.

I want you. I love you. You’re pissing me off. These were all things Scott was used to feeling in Logan’s kisses. I’m afraid for you was not.

“If you really want me to go—”

“One night,” Logan broke in. “Maybe I can do that. Everything has a first step, right?”

“Thank you,” Scott said, shifting forward to straddle Logan’s lap. “You know how much this means to me.”

Logan moved his hands down to Scott’s waist, rubbing his hipbones to distract himself from the overwhelming sense of fear. “I have one condition. Non-negotiable.” “Name it, babe.”

“I’m not going to have my arms around you. Having my hands so close to your head or your chest would make it too easy to hurt you.”

“Deal.” Scott leaned forward to speak directly into Logan’s ear, his voice deep and incredibly warm. “I’m proud of you, Logan. And tomorrow morning, since I’ll already be here, I plan on showing you just how much I appreciate this in some very obscene ways.”

Logan groaned, pushing Scott off his lap with absolutely no grace. “If you’re going to complain about my refractory period—”

“You mean your lack of one,” Scott grumbled, pulling Logan down on top of him.

“Then don’t get me all excited when you and I can’t go together, asshole,” Logan finished.

Scott slowly took off his visor, setting it on the sheets off to the side. “I think tonight you’ve earned round two, if you’re gentle.” He laced his fingers together with Logan’s, guiding them up to trace the mark Logan had left earlier. “Well…gentle in some spots.”

“Obscene in others?”

Scott laughed, a much more sultry sound than Logan was used to laughter being. “Mark me up.”

Logan wanted little more than to thrust into Scott that minute, but he paused, hovering over Scott, studying the way the lines on his face became more apparent as he held his eyes carefully closed.

“I really do love you, Scott,” he said. “That you’re willing to do this for me, even if it scares you.”

“You know why I do?”

“I think I can guess.” Because Scott loved Logan the same way Logan loved him. Because it was the same reason Logan had agreed to let Scott sleep with him.

“Then shut up and take me, babe.”

#wooHOO y'all this was a blast to write #it combines two of my favorite things: angst (which I could not live without) and spiciness #hope I did my boys justice #Logan howlett #Scott summers #scogan #wolverine #cyclops #Scott x logan #Logan x scott #wolverine x cyclops #cyclops x wolverine #xmen #xmen movies #spicy #angst #fic #martianbugsbunny writes fic

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