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archie-sunshine · 4 months

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So, What Now?(Rehabili/Cohabi-tation)

Chapter 6: In Which Robots are Poorly Constructed for the Purposes of Doing Yoga

FIC TAGS: Eventual Whirl/Cyclonus/Tailgate, Cyclonus/Tailgate, polyamory, slowburn romance, mutual pining, slice of life, fluff, comedy, eventual smut(planned for later chapters), sappy mushy lovey stuff, polycue, May eventually have illustrations

The Lost Light has a brand new universe to explore! But everyone's still tired from the old one! In the interim between wacky hijinks, a solution is offered to those bored to death by peacetime- Why form a club about it or renovate your hab suite of course!

Whirl doesn't know how he feels about all the pep. And even worse, he doesn't know how to feel about Cyclonus and Tailgate wanting him to join in on their clean slate.

Other Chapters Here! Read on AO3 Here!

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Author's Notes: THIS! IS! MY! FAVOURITE! CHAPTER! YET! or at least- well of the ones posted so far. this whole chapter is DESPERATELY silly, read into it whichever ships you so desire

CHAPTER TAGS: robots doing yoga, suggestively looking at your friends (whirl's optics wander a bit), comedy, slapstick, tailgate is a little old man with little old man joints, continuing fluff and cutesiness !

A few more cycles had passed. Whirl had insisted he needed time to get his hab suite in order and cleared out to move, but really, he was mostly just nervous. It was a big step, surely it was an intrusion, even if the couple didn’t know yet how he might sour their home with his presence. He tiptoed around the edge of their circle, even as they dragged him closer to them.

Whirl was in his hab suite, quietly packing junk into crates, as he had been for a few hours now. It gave him something to do at least, rather than carving more graffiti into the walls.

He perked up briefly as a comm came through.

TG: New club this afternoon, meet in the shuttle hangar in 4 hours! -Tailgate

Whirl breathed out in amusement.

W: Sure, I’ll be there.

The hangar was abuzz with movement, a small group of bots gathered around. Whirl hesitated to join the crowd. There were Cyclonus and Tailgate, standing near the edge of the group, Rewind-assumedly there to record- then there was Rodimus, and Ratchet(surprisingly) and Velocity again(less surprising) and then, hulking over the rest of them was fragging Megatron. Whirl had assumed- clearly incorrectly- that of those in charge of the ship Megatron would have the least patience or time or care for this whole CBEI business.

Tailgate glanced around, finally noticing Whirl and waving him over. He trotted over to them, glancing over Cyclonus’s shoulder.

“-afety purposes, we’re going to be using some of these maintenance magnetizers, so that we’re able to do our cyber-yoga class under the stars on the hull of the ship!” Drift explained cheerfully. Ah, so that's why Ratchet was attending.

Whirl’s optic scrunched. He leaned a bit further into Cyclonus to mumble in his audial. “Whats a cyber-yoga?”

“It’s a mixture of stretching and meditation, I believe. Some sort of ancient technique to loosen the joints and pistons to promote greater nanite recovery and flexibility.” He explained under his breath.

“And- we’re doing it on the outside of the ship? Why?” Whirl probed.

“Have you seen how large some of the bots who signed up are? They’d collapse under the ship’s false gravity.” Cyclonus glanced very briefly at Megatron.

“Oh primus- is this one of those stupid anti-grav aerobic class things for oldies?” Whirl groaned. “Come on, I can see this for Tailgate’s ancient aft, but, us-?” Whirl jolted as Tailgate playfully punched him in the leg, giving him an exaggerated look of offense.

“It’s good for you!” Tailgate hissed.

Whirl leaned down patronizingly, his helm breaching Tailgate’s personal bubble. “Yea, it’s great for you though, old brittle bolts- Ow!” Whirl jumped when Cyclonus began to pinch at one of his blades.

“Now, let's all get outfitted with our magnetizers, and it’ll be a brief space walk to the top of the hull for some relaxing cyber-yoga!” Drift said cheerfully, beginning to hand out magnetizers to the crowd.

“-Now bring your left leg over the right and up towards your pelvis… and youre going to engage your restarluesus pistons… and just lower into the pose.” If Drift had one thing going for him, his flexibility was it.

Whirl was no slouch in the flexibility department either, though his… shall we say unique frame shape made it a challenge to mimic the pose Drift was doing.

He was standing on his servos, holding tightly onto the hand held magnetizers he’d instructed the group to connect to the hull, right leg raised to a perfect toe point, left with its heel strut jammed directly east of his modesty panel.

Whirl glanced around. Ratchet was unsurprisingly struggling a bit. His joints were having a hard time extending to the same poise as his Conjunx. Velocity seemed to be doing just fine, with her more agile frame mirroring Drift’s pose with only a slight wobble as she struggled to stay steady. Megatron was a different story. His faceplate was set in an intense glare, which would have been intimidating were he not swaying with the effort to keep his frame straight with his left pede flailing to find purchase somewhere near his knee. Rodimus was also doing well, though his form was suffering as he quivered in an attempt not to laugh at his co-captain's struggling.

“Rodimus-” Megatron hissed at him.

Rodimus snorted and wheezed, cheeks puffing with strain at the display. “Nothing- nothing you're doing great, Megs-”

Whirl turned his attention to Cyclonus and Tailgate. Cyclonus was doing decently as well, though his bulkier frame made flexibility a struggle for him. Whirl inspected his form, definitely not… letting his optic linger on Cyclonus’s aft… not even for a moment. He turned his attention away quickly.

Tailgate- Oh, Tailgate was really trying his best. He’d gotten into the position, it was the lowering part he was having trouble with. His digits were so tight around the handles of the magnetizers he was worried the things might break off. He pulled himself, straining, down into the sort of twisted up pushup that Drift had instructed, not struggling for lack of strength, but rather for the strain of his old pistons.

“Hhhnnnn…. I’m too spry- and youthful- of mind and spirit- for this-!” Tailgate gritted out quietly, making Whirl and Cyclonus chuckle.

“Very good! Ok, now release the pose.” Drift instructed.

A chorus of relieved groans went up across the crowd.

“Now we’re going to do something a little more challenging.”

A chorus of pained groans went up across the crowd.

“Now for this position you’re going to connect the magnetizers on your pedes to the hull…” Drift gracefully brought his legs down, pausing for the chorus of clunks and zaps that signaled his club was not going to go flying off into space. “And for this one, I challenge you to give your spinal strut as deep a stretch as you can!” He began to slowly curve his frame backwards, servos making contact with the hull in a back bend- and- oh primus.

“COME ON- YOU’RE JUST SHOWING OFF NOW!” Ratchet barked from the back of the crowd, his hands still groping around for the hull as Drift nestled his helm between his own ankles as he wrapped his digits around them.

Whirl awkwardly began to mirror the pose, catching a glimpse of Tailgate ineffectually dropping into a weak crab walk and Cyclonus gritting his dentas at the strain in his back. Whirl did his best to not make a dirty joke about Cyclonus’s face being so close to his modesty panel.

“Woah there, take me out for a drink first.” Whirl snickered. Okay so his best was rarely good enough, sue him.

“You’re- so immature…” Cyclonus grunted out, pushing his abdomen upwards to further stretch his back strut.

Tailgate’s giggle was interrupted by a sharp wince as something in his frame popped. “Oh- Ow- OW-!”

Tailgate flailed a servo around in the air. “P-Pause- Time out- time out!” Cyclonus and Whirl quickly abandoned their poses to crowd worriedly around him.

“DRIFT-!” Cyclonus shouted, motioning panickedly at his sparkmate.

Drift unpretzeled himself quickly, rushing over to his side. “Oh- what is it- AH!” Drift grimaced as he noted the shifted panels that had locked the minibot’s abdomen in place with his back arched. “Oh Primus- Great effort, Tailgate, really good job pushing yourself- um- this might feel weird.”

“Itsfinepleasehelp-” Tailgate whined, the reedy noise breaking into a shriek as Drift brought his elbow joint right down on the disjointed plating. It set back into place with another pop. Drift rubbed at the little dent he’d left with his thumb. He frowned at the paint transfer he’d left. Ratchet balked at his conjunx’s flagrant and untrained plating reset technique with absolute horror.

“Sorry… Just go a bit easier on yourself, okay Tailgate?” He apologized, awkwardly chuckling as Tailgate flattened himself despondently on the hull of the ship.

“Thaaaanks Driiiift….” Tailgate wheezed, giving him a thumbs up. Drift returned the gesture with one of his own.

“Okay-! Uhm, everyone alright to continue?” He posed to the group. A mild, affirmative murmur rippled through the bots gathered.

Tailgate popped back upright, wheeling his arms in wide circles for a second to regain balance.

“Try not to push yourself, TG.” Whirl teased, bumping his shoulder with his servo and snickering as his frame swayed in the antigravity. “There’s precious few of us that can nab you if you go spinning off into space.”

“And if Ratchet has to watch Drift perform impromptu chiropracty on me again he might blow a gasket.” Tailgate whispered, suppressing a giggle and bumping Whirls hip to wobble him in return.

Whirl snickered again, bumping Tailgate back a bit harder.

Tailgate returned in suit, just a bit too hard as Whirl bobbed almost all the way back on his aft before floating back up into place. The two of them giggled.

Whirl held his vents with strain as he fumbled around for the tip of his pede. He had made connection with the tips of his claws, but was still trying to nab it fully to bring it into the right position.

“And with your other servo, you’re going to want to bring it all the way down to the ground, I encourage you to try as best you can to flatten your palm against it, but if not, just the tips of your digits touching is fine!” Drift instructed, no strain in his voice as his pede made near contact with his massive finials.

Cyclonus had caught hold of his own pede, and had bowed his back out to a decent simulacrum of Drift’s position. Tailgate was having more trouble extending his back strut, but with his longer pede, and some gentle coaxing from Cyclonus’s free servo, he’d managed to get close to the right position.

Whirl was happy for them and their success. It would have been stellar, however, if their afts weren’t both in his face. His optic darted around awkwardly, attempting to not focus on Cyclonus’s blocky, powerful thighs, and Tailgate’s tight little hip tires. He could see tender bits of protoform between their joints, soft and vulnerable from the way their plating stretched apart.

No, bad Whirl, bad. He trained his optic safely on the ground next to his other claw as he finally grabbed hold of his ankle. Had Tailgate always had such a nice aft? Had Cyclonus? What the frag was he even thinking about, it wasn’t even remotely okay to be having thoughts like this, about a happily conjunxed couple of all things.

“Alright, and bring your pede down, and we’re going to lower into downward facing cyber-dog…” Drift explained, expelling a slow, relaxed vent.

Okay this was getting fully unfair. The couple planted their pedes and- well you get the picture.

Whirl glanced around, taking stock of literally anything else when he heard a well timed ‘zzzzZZTHONK!’ from his left, followed closely by an indignant ‘ARE YOU FRAGGING KIDDING ME-!!?’ from Rodimus.

He looked over, optic widening and laughter beginning to quickly bubble up as he found Megatron’s pede magnetized to Rodimus’s chassis.

“You should have kept a further distance, Rodimus-” Megatron observed, lightly wiggling his leg and dragging Rodimus around with him, who had begun to yank and tug at the larger bot’s leg.

“OH- OH! OH so its- It’s my fault that your stupid slagging magnetizers are- STOP FRAGGING MOVING!” He snarled, clawing at the magnetizer on Megatron’s pede.

“AH- Stop- You can just- RODIMUS!” Megatron boomed, again attempting to shake Rodimus’s servos off his pede. The smaller’s helm bobbed back and forth with the force of the shake, but Rodimus’s digits held firm in their attempt to rip the magnetizer off his plating.

The group had begun to laugh at their co captains’ predicament, albeit stifled and attempted to keep under wraps- save for Whirl, who was cackling to a truly hysteric degree.

“Rodders- Roddy- RODIMUS-” Drift tried, beginning to walk over to him. “You can just- Stop- Hey- STOP-!” He smacked at Rodimus’s hands.

“NO KEEP DOING IT, RODDERS, YOU’RE GONNA GET IT EVENTUALLY!” Whirl called.

“Keep shaking your leg, Captain, he’ll come off I promise!” Rewind added from his perch on a protruding bit of hull, very obviously zooming in on the captains’ situation.

“YOU WILL BE DELETING THIS FOOTAGE.” Megatron demanded, abandoning his attempt to kick Rodimus off in favour of bringing his pede up so he could reach the magnetizer himself. A loud CLUNK echoed between the pair as Rodimus’s helm bounced off of Megatron’s aft.

The group roared with laughter as Rodimus wailed in horrific embarrassment.

“Where’s the- grh- where’s the stupid-” Megatron grunted, pawing at the magnetizer blindly.

“Alright- ALRIGHT- Megatron, just put your leg out- I’ll-” Drift intervened, grabbing the side of Rodimus’s head and prying their two frames apart- or as apart as he could with Megatron’s pede attached to Rodimus’s chassis. He sighed, rolling his optics and beginning to carefully prod around for the magnetizer’s off switch.

“If I hear about anyone seeing that footage, you’re DEAD, Rewind!” Rodimus growled, pointing an accusatory digit at the minibot as he laughed and zoomed further in on the pede stuck to him.

“Where is the- primus, I knew this bigger model was old but this is complete- AH! Is this it?” Drift prodded a digit into a button on the side and Megatron’s pede came free… leaving the magnetizer attached directly to the middle of Rodimus’s chassis.

Whirl continued to giggle before it crumbled into a hacking chuff from his vents.

Rodimus gave Drift an icy look. Drift bit back a smile, forcing himself not to make eye contact with him. “A-Alright uhm, It looks like we’re going to be uh-” He took a steadying vent as Rodimus began to fumble for a demagnetizing button. “We’re gonna be cutting this meeting short! Thanks so much for coming and- um, I’ll keep all of you posted on when we meet next!” He said with a broad grin, clapping his servos together.

“And you promise you got all of it?” Whirl whispered, frame practically jittering with malicious glee.

“From the moment that the magnetizer made contact, all the way to Megatron having to be dragged back to the hangar like an indignant balloon.” Rewind confirmed with a nod. “I even caught a bit of Ratchet and Velocity attempting to scrape the magnetizer off once they figured out it was on the fritz.”

Whirl cackled evilly, hopping from pede to pede. “You’ve gotta comm me that- hell, you’ve gotta give me a hard copy of that so I can carry it to my grave.”

“I’ll see what I can do…” Rewind mused coyly.

“Do you think Rod’ was really serious about the consequences of spreading that around?” Tailgate asked.

“Oh, no chance, he’d probably make a speech about it though. Maybe put him in the brig for like a week, or on riveting duty.” Whirl counted the options for punishment in his processor, leaning his arm on Tailgate’s helm and tapping out the tally on his fore-helm.

“Or have you make a formal apology, in front of everyone, perhaps.” Cyclonus added. “Or if he was adamant enough he’d likely want to cover it up before it got that far.”

“He can’t silence me, I know my rights.” Rewind laughed. “I gotta get back to my hab though.” He sighed, stretching his arms up and folding his servos behind his helm. “All this recording is tiring me out, I need a long recharge. If you don’t hear from me tomorrow, know that it's because Rodimus placed a hit on me.”

The group laughed, trading goodbyes with Rewind before the remaining bots turned to their- now shared- hallway.

For a while they enjoyed the comfortable silence, Cyclonus hand in hand with Tailgate, Whirl keeping a safe meter wide distance between them.

“So, Whirl,” Cyclonus began. “Shall we begin moving your belongings to the unit soon?”

Whirl stiffened a bit. Scrap, he’d hoped he didn’t have to think about that again today. It wasn’t that he was dragging his pedes because he didn’t want to move in- he just… It was hard to think about taking a step that big. Giving up his privacy, for what? Because they’d taken pity on him? It was weak of him, it was foolish and soft.

He shook his helm. “Yeah- yeah, I’ll get to it soon, don’t worry.” he thought for a moment. “Where am I squeezing in anyway? You bots gotta reconfigure another suite for me?”

The two of them glanced at one another awkwardly.

“Well- It’s not um-” Tailgate started.

“You wouldn’t be-” Cyclonus stammered.

“There was already-” “A full suite was too much for a berthroom-”

“Way too much, felt kinda greedy-”

“It was going to be- erm-”

“It was going to be an office!” Tailgate finished, faceplate flushed as he tapped his index digits together. “But- y’know, we don’t mind not having an office… it can be your room-”

Whirl squinted at them, examining their avoidant body language… their faceplates flushed with energon.

Did they really make a room for him without even confirming if he’d move in?

“Alriiiiiight….. Cool…” Whirl murmured suspiciously.

No… No they wouldn’t have done that.

Primus’s spike, they really did it, the crazy bastards.

The fields radiating off the two were incredibly tense, like they were holding their vents waiting for Whirl to turn on his heel-struts and walk away never to be seen again.

The room- the ‘office’ the couple had put together had a desk, a few varying chairs, a few shelves, a filing cabinet, a wide window across the back wall, and- of course, as was standard in any office- a recharge slab. For sure, an office, you know, the place you recharge in. The area specifically designated for recharging. The office.

Whirl put his servos on his hips, swinging his helm around to face the couple. “Great office fellas. It’s a shame to move in and interrupt the immaculate office like nature of the room. You must be devastated to no longer have use of this office.”

“It would have made a great office, yes.” Cyclonus agreed. “It’s a shame to give it up.”

“Don’t worry, Whirl, we think the office was a worthy sacrifice.” Tailgate nodded solemnly.

Whirl snickered under his breath. “I’ll put it to good use… Thanks.”

He stepped inside, glancing around one more time and letting himself relax. “I think I’ll… turn in early. Give the ol’ office berth a spin.” He walked forwards, sitting on the edge of the slab. The couple got the hint, nodding and giving thumbs ups.

“Just let us know if you need anything!” Tailgate said, before stepping back and letting the door slide shut.

Whirl watched the door for a long klik, before slowly leaning his frame back flat on the berth. He expected that feeling to leave him again, returning him to the familiar numb chill that reached him in the nights he spent alone in his hab suite.

It never left, though it faded to equilibrium, leaving the mech relaxed and at peace. He let his vents slow, cycled his processor down as he prepared for recharge.

His optic was about to go offline when he received a ping.

R: Supply run tomorrow, you’re on the team with CY, TG, BS, FA, UM and me. See you at the shuttle.

Whirl’s processor shot back online as he sat up. Supply run. Something was HAPPENING. He was practically vibrating with excitement for a moment, before a stubborn, foreign thought wormed its way to the front of his processor.

But that might be dangerous

Of course it was dangerous, that was why he NEEDED to go… but… He shook his helm, going back to resting. What was he thinking, it was just a normal supply run, those two had faced down against tyrants and monsters and the fucking DJD for primus’ sake. They’d be fine.

… He’d make sure they were fine.

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valberryy · 2 years

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H e l l o HSHSHSHS glad to see ur back on my dash ^-^ ...mayhaps... a spy x family au with ayato and tighnari? if u arent writing the sumeru characters yet just ayato is fine woohoo~ TY will read ur other stuff as soon as exams r over

STARFELL BACK AT IT AGAIN W THE GALAXY BRAIN IDEAS!!!! thank u thank u it is also nice to Be back <3 <3 i'm catching up w the archon quests so it's All Good, BUT i played w the prompt a little if that's okay ..... 🙈 no worries take your time and best of luck with ur exams !!!! <3 KAYA MO YANNNN

➻ ayato and tighnari in a spy x family au

content warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, one instance of swearing

➻ given everything from his status at birth, to his surname, to the obviously-branded clothes he likes to wear, it would be the understatement of the century to say that AYATO has quite a lot to lose — especially considering his ever-so-mysterious business trips that he happens go to on so often.

➻ on the outside, you and him seem to make the very definition of a perfect couple. he's sweet on you, often bringing home gifts after his long days at work, and every night the cctv system catches how you open the door to greet him with a smile. there's no shortage of whispers about that guy kamisato and his spouse — which seemed more than a little amusing to him, especially considering how your "relationship" is, among many things, a business contract of sorts.

➻ he found out about you through work connections, funnily enough, but as far as his knowledge goes, you're just a civilian who happened to need protection — and so, your agreement was born. you'll be under his care as a member of the kamisato clan, and he'll have you to keep his sister company while he's away for spy work, and help him keep his cover. though... you don't know about that second part.

➻ something he's beginning to find a little odd, though, is that another spy from a rival organisation seems to be even more of a thorn in his side than usual, lately. he'd spend days investigating a target and finding a good stake-out location... to find someone else already there, waving oh-so-pleasantly, oh-so-frustratingly at him.

➻ he's rather reluctant to admit how much he bickers with them, and even less likely to admit that he rather enjoys it, sometimes. even through the voice-disguising device, there's something to these encounters, and the way he hears his codename cooed through his comms that he finds oddly endearing — and more infuriating than anything he's had to deal with in his life.

➻ though... something about them and the gruff tenderness with which they tug bandages tighter around his wounds reminds him a little of you.

➻ but he comes home, smile pleasant as always, though his footsteps may be a little heavy — and listens to you talk about your day at work: oh, you were really early for a meeting earlier, and it was so awkward with just you and one other person there... his smile only widens when he hears about what you and ayaka have been up to lately, too.

➻ as tired — and annoyed — as he may be, and as much of an odd coincidence it is that your mannerisms happen to remind him of his annoying coworker, watching you two scuttle into the kitchen to bring out some baked goods recipe you found online for him to taste makes him feel like his pretend family has more weight to it than he initially thought.

‎‎

➻ while it seems to many that TIGHNARI decided to settle down after getting married, that was very much not the case. he simply adapted to a... work from home lifestyle, he'll say — whether that refers to the papers he goes through in the living room after seeing you off for work and collei off at school, or the locked study at the end of the hall that he shuts himself into for hours on end.

➻ much like ayato's case, your "marriage" began as a mutually beneficial agreement. he wouldn't have to choose between his very secretive r&d work and looking after collei, and you... well, he isn't sure exactly what you gain out of this arrangement, since it seems very biased in his favour.

➻ but he can't quite complain, he supposes. especially since collei seems to really like you, given how often he can hear you two laughing from the kitchen—hey, that's the salt, not the sugar!—and how you help her with phrases she can't quite seem to grasp, and how you two always walk home together from the station on the rare days that your schedules align.

➻ there's also the peculiar "lunchbox incident," as collei calls it, where she clung to you for a week after a business trip of yours — ah, he's normally so careful about where he puts his mushroom samples, but perhaps the mostly-empty house put him a little too at ease... you had laughed it off once you got home, and loathe as he is to admit it, the sound of your laugh and your scolding voice alike made the whole scene feel a little more domestic than he was used to.

➻ tighnari will admit that he was more than a little suspicious of you at first, but after seeing how you act around him and collei alike, he sagely decides to keep quiet about how your button-ups always seem to be a little too white and smell a little too much like bleach — so long as you keep quiet about the clinical, chemical smells coming from his study, of course.

➻ that's not to say he doesn't have his suspicions, though. it may be how smoothly your tone seems to shift from your work calls to calling everyone over for dinner, or how the little engraved logo by your phone is the same logo in the corner of all the documents filed neatly into the false bottom of his drawer. or maybe it's the simple fact that he doubts an office worker would come home covered in bruises so often.

➻ but each time you come home he's waiting for you on the couch with your favourite drink and a first aid kit, always muttering about what kind of asshole coworkers you must have if you always come home in these conditions. and in these moments, where it's just you and him in the living room, the late-night radio turned to the lowest volume with your occasional comments of, "ow, tighnari, i'm delicate!" he wonders, almost uncharacteristically, what it would be like for you to call him your husband.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #tighnari x reader #bee writes

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sarcastic-sketches · 10 months

Note

hey what about that archon Star Wars where Obiwan goes undercover as a mercenary and fakes his death would Anakin still get tricked?

Ah yes, the Rako Hardeen arc. This is one of the story arcs that's going to happen very differently to canon because of the elements involved directly impacting Anakin being a Kitsune. I'll have to watch the arc again when I come to write it to make it more accurate (along with some medical research) but this is the way I imagine it playing out. TW for bodily harm, people getting shot.

So while Obi-Wan is all ready and set up for his mission to be shot by a bounty hunter that's been hired specifically for this task, everyone has kind of forgotten that the reason Anakin is the only Kitsune left in the GFFA is because they were hunted to the point of near extinction for their tails. By hunters.

They've all gotten a little complacent with the change by now. He's an accomplished General in a war, he dodges death all the time, they all forget that he is still vulnerable to attack from sources other than the Separatists. Even when on Coruscant.

Obi-Wan is putting himself directly in the way of a blaster bolt from a bounty hunter. A group of people who are rewarded for their oppotunistic nature. The plan kicks off, Obi-Wan gets shot and falls off the building, with Ahsoka reaching him first only to discover that he isn't breathing. Anakin is still at the top of the building, leaning over the edge to see Obi-Wan's body in his Padawan's arms.

Meanwhile, Rako is lining up another shot as his other, personal target has now walked into frame. He's thinking, 'you know what? Maybe I should take a pot shot for a tail while I'm here'. You miss all the shots you don't take after all and he brought a bullet just in case. Obi-Wan is known for always having Skywalker not far behind him after all.

What are the chances he can nail two Jedi in one day?

Only Anakin isn't wearing body armour or being targetted by a fake bolt. He's too busy zeroing in on his Master's body down on the floor to notice something else is wrong. In his distracted state, the next shot goes straight through his chest. A real solid bullet made of silver. The silver doesn't actually do anything, Rako might just be a bit superstitious and thought it might help weaken such a creature, but it's really just the physical trauma of the shot itself that brings Anakin down.

Ahsoka, still cradling Obi-Wan's body has to look up and find her own Master now slumped over the side of the building after a second shot has gone off. She reaches the top of the building just in time to see Rako advancing on an unconcious Anakin with a knife. She doesn't even hesitate to launch herself at this bounty hunter, who is now far too close to defend himself against a light saber. He makes a run for it and Ahsoka can't leave to chase after him, she needs to call support. She needs to...

Stop the bleeding and call for help.

"Jedi emergency. Calling for med evac!" Ahsoka hisses into her comm as she jabs a thumb into the hole punched through her Master's back, just under his left shoulder blade. That's a collapsed lung... "Copy that. Ship in the air, what's the situation?" the voice of a clone responds. No doubt one of the Coruscant Guard who are always monitoring the military comm frequencies for just such an occasion. "Two Jedi down. General Skywalker is critically injured, projectile through the back. General Kenobi is," she has to pause to swallow through the saliva filling her mouth, throat tight with her panic. A fluttering inhale quells the nerves in her chest before she raises her comm again. "General Kenobi is unresponsive. Blaster bolt to the chest. Please, I need immediate medical assistance."

"We're on our way. ETA two minutes."

It is the longest two minutes of Ahsoka's life as she tears the fabric of her glove from her arms with her teeth to stuff against the bleeding around her thumb.

It is later commented upon that it's remarkable the shot didn't kill him. Kitsune are durable but perhaps some baser instinct caused Anakin to move the slightest inch so the bullet missed his heart. But it means he is left healing for the duration of Obi-Wan's mission. With blood loss and a perforated lung, a bacta bath would not be enough to get the General back on his feet. The news that Anakin got shot for real because of the deception has Obi-Wan feeling very unnerved and guilty. He had a mission to complete, and he committed to the task, but Anakin was never meant to become a target himself. The plan succeeds without issue and the bounty hunters captured at the end of the Festical of Light. All this subterfuge and fuss hardly seemed worth it in the end... it all felt very anticlimatic.

Anakin is still upset that he was lied to - especially in an attempt to take advantage of his emotional reactions - but since he was out of it for the whole thing, he never had to really experience Obi-Wan's death. Never had to go through the mourning of his Master or contemplate living in world without him in it. But he knows Ahsoka did, and he's more pissed off on her behalf than he is for himself once everything is over. Especially since he wasn't able to be there for her either.

Ahsoka, on the other hand, is still reeling from nervous relief that she didn't just lose her two Masters at the same time. Plus the fact that her on the spot first aid - and I like to think she'd previously bothered Kix for some pointers - actually saved Anakin's life. There isn't enough space in her brain to feel the sting of deception really. Perhaps it'll come later. Right now, she just wants her two Master's to get along and forget everything else that has happened.

#kitsune!anakin #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #obi wan kenobi #rako hardeen arc #kitsune #star wars #star wars au #sw #sw au #star wars writing #ask and ye shall receive

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injuries-in-dust · 2 years

Text

A sign of trust

Part 3

Read Part 1

Read Part 2

It was traditional more than anything else, but any human who wanted a license to fly a ship needed to learn a sign language developed for use in space.

It wasn't really a language, but a set of signals, like those used by scuba divers, made to communicate some quick and basic concepts to those around them.

Before humans joined the wider galaxy and received universal translators people in space needed quick and concise ways of communicating. Especially if you were on a spacewalk and in a hurry to find a hull breach made by a micro-meteor as big as a grain of sand and neither of the two brave engineers who had volunteered for the job spoke each others languages.

It had also been useful in case of a communication blackout. These days comm units on ships were built to be the last piece of equipment to fail. The same was true of the communication equipment inside the space suits. However, back in the old days, like when people still needed to go into cryo-sleep just to reach the nearest star system, more often than not, things had been built by the lowest bidder. Which meant the cheapest components, which meant that breakdowns weren't just expected, they were damn near routine when it came to long-haul flights.

So every human, regardless of their national language, learned a set of universal hand signals that had been agreed upon between nations, so one astronaut could speak with any other.

Rin knew this kind of stuff because of family history; her great-grandparents had met each other on a long-haul flight from earth to Trappist -1. Great Grandfather had been Australian, while Great Grandmother had been Japanese. Neither one of them had spoken each others languages when they'd met.

There'd been a fault in the navigation equipment and the computer had determined that Chief Petty Officer William Brown, and Lieutenant Mei Tanaka were the best the fix it. They'd been thawed out and briefed in their own languages before getting down to the business of fixing the problem. They didn't speak each others languages, but they both knew the universal sign language as party of their basic training.

Those few hand gestures had been a building block that they had used to start to communicate with each other. The communication and the fault in the navigation computer had been two hurdles they had conquered together. In the three days they had taken to fix the problem their team work had blossomed into mutual respect and then into something more.

The next time they thawed out of cryo-sleep, the ship was in orbit of Trappist -1E. By the time the ship had touched down, before the first colonists were even disembarking, the two were married by the ships captain. They'd spent the rest of their lives learning to speak each others languages but they never had trouble communicating.

She hadn't used the sign language since her training course. She mostly worked solo on her ships. She liked the just hop around wherever and whenever she wanted. No company schedules to keep, no passengers to mother, no cargo to worry about, unless it was all on her own terms. She mostly did a little light scouting of asteroids and uninhabited planets for mining prospects and sold them on just as a means to keep her engines fuelled and her rations full. She was a proud space-hobo, enjoying the sights of an infinitely beautiful universe and living her best life just the way she wanted.

Rin wasn't looking for anything romantic, but she was looking to work with this Kook to get something fixed. She hoped she could live up to the family legacy.

#A sign of trust #writing #my writing #original writing #part 3 #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #I went on a ramble #this got away from me a little #back to the main plot next time

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buntsuki · 6 months

Text

Update!!

Groot is doing wonderful! I am in an extremely tough spot though. We’re going to have to adjust his chemo medication because we can’t afford the ecg he needs for them to feel safe giving him the rest of his doses.

We’re honestly okay switching to the other medication as it’s supposed to be less stressful on his heart. While still being a strong treatment option. The quote for that is $3k for the rest of those doses, with 4 other doses of different types with it. We’re estimating about $5k total. Which we just don’t have at this point. We have been denied for personal loans, CareCredit Card, Scratch Pay, Wells Fargo. My fiancée was approved for a $300 loan at 26.90% interest from Sunbit, which obviously isn’t worth it. We’ve reached out to every foundation we’ve seen, I’ve sent in to weratedogs, Paws4, BowWow and a few other ones I can’t remember the names of at the moment. We’ve all joined numerous Facebook groups to share. We’ve even gotten to a point where last week we asked long time neighbor/family friends (who are very well off) for the possibility of a loan with a notary and payment plan, they read the message and ignored us…we’ve never asked them for money (until last week for a loan).

So that’s it we’ve really exhausted what we can at this point. I’ve sold a few things but of course it’s not enough, the commissions have been super helpful though! Thank you so much! As well as thank you to everyone for sharing!! Shares help..I feel like we just need to get it into the right hands. Of course I’m still going to be doing commissions and selling what I can as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SO FOR ME:

I’ve had a super busy week, I apologize if I haven’t gotten back to anyone with comm updates yet! I’ve had an appointment almost everyday this week for my own medical issues. Then Groots chemo, and I was meant to have an important doctor appointment tomorrow, but it was rescheduled. There was a mass shooting about 45 minutes away from me, the suspect is still on the loose so businesses are locking doors, and rescheduling appointments. -My absolute condolences to the victims and I truly hope he’s found soon.

I had electro current therapy AlphaStim on Monday and it ACTUALLY HELPED MY CHRONIC PAIN! Like surreal, I can do a couple in office visits that my insurance will cover. There’s an at home one Quell that I think would be life changing for me, but it’s $150 up front for the band and 2 replacement packs. Then it’s $25-50 a month per replacement pack. Which i obviously can’t afford while emptying everything to my name out on chemotherapy. (I would rather be in pain than let Groot down).

I appreciate the kindness and support/understanding right now! It’s a really tough time, especially after the hospital blow, and now hearing about the medication stuff. Gofundme in bio and on my profile as always, no pressure to anyone! Times are hard all around and I don’t want anyone exerting themselves for me.

Thanks for reading! I’ll get back to everyone asap! I have tomorrow free now to hopefully get caught up.

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wixelt · 1 year

Note

Pearl stumbled upon the portal that Grian was just at. (Hermit tales au)

Okay, wow. Wasn't expecting an AU I put out there over a year ago to come back, but i'm not complaining.

I leave asks open for all my old AUs, after all. :D

The initial thought & 1st part, as context for those newer to my stuff.

---

Hermit Tales AU #002 - Pearl and the Gateway

Pearl has never felt such primal fear as this.

Never felt something that read as such anathema to her own existence.

It permeates her veins and the part of her that was once a Watcher begs - pleads with her to run and never look back. Even after all she's been through - with the Watchers and the Life games and everything else - she's never felt something so visceral.

Something she can be so horrifyingly certain means nothing good.

The Hermits' resident reincarnated farm goddess turned Watcher turned cleaning lady slams to an abrupt stop outside of Grian's base, wings flaring behind her and sending a blast of air and dust in all directions as she halts herself.

The sight that greets feels like the definition of wrong.

The misshapen, bleeding obsidian gateway of serene, green mist looms ahead, simultaneously growing out of and encroaching into the surrounding earth like a tumor.

On any other day, Pearl might throw caution to the wind and investigate, but this fear is so instinctive - so deep after feeling her brother's presence flicker out right after asking after the very thing in front of her - that it roots her solidly to the spot, unable and unwilling to take another step towards this abomination of a gateway.

So instead she does the smart thing and moves backward.

She has far more room to dodge than Grian did when the tendril lashes out at her.

Wings flashing out, she leans around and away from the thing trying to grasp at her, the former Watcher quickly putting as much distance between herself and it as possible.

It catches a glancing blow - Pearl winces and cries out as her veins burn with toxic antithesis, and she stumbles mid-flight for a moment - but she isn't halted, and quickly puts Grian's entire base behind her, moving with frantic rapidity in the direction of spawn.

On the edge of her perception, she faintly registers the portal appendage recede - be it autonomous or directed - its chosen prey now beyond its range.

In the terror, however, she won't remember this detail for days.

Every other Hermit is stirred abruptly from their business, calm giving way to fear and confusion as Pearlescent Moon floods comms with multiple panicked red alert messages.

There hasn't been a high alert since Mumbo called the emergency session to discuss the then-alarming "Big Moon" situation.

And that was orange, many magnitudes less concerning than whatever has sent Pearl into a terrified frenzy.

The Hermits - every last one, every project or curiosity abandoned without a second thought - converge on spawn, each wearing an expression of grim uncertainty rarely seen among the group.

Despite her having raised the alarm, Pearl is among the last to arrive at the spawn lake.

She crashes unceremoniously to the ground in the middle of the gathering - dishevelled and afraid and barely standing as her nerves still sting and scream - it taking both Gem and Impulse together to help her to her feet.

Fighting to stay conscious, Pearl's quickly blurring gaze wanders across her friends one by one until she finds Xisuma.

Admin. Protector. Guardian.

And yet so unaware of the infection on his realm.

But how could he know? How could any of them know?

Pearl's seen the blight firsthand and even she doesn't know.

And yet the words she conveys to X are as honest as they are haunted. They feel as true as breathing, piercing her own heart as she speaks them.

"...Grian's gone."

She can't feel her brother anymore.

Even when he was with the Watchers before her, or off in another world, she's still always felt him out there.

But now, for the first time in her life, he's not there.

He's gone.

She's alone in her head.

Pearl breaks.

---

The Hermit Tales AU is an AU built entirely out of replies to your short prompts, making story & set pieces out of everybody's one-sentence asks & seeing if anything resembling a plot evolved.

If you have anything to throw in, even after so long, feel free. :P

#hermit tales au #hermitcraft #hermitblr #hermitcraft au #pearlescentmoon #watcher pearl #grian #watcher grian #xisumavoid #impulsesv #geminitay #mumbojumbo #sky siblings #still keeping the timeframe ambiguous but until further notice assume its still Season 9

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weekend-conspiracy-theorist · 9 months

Text

an entry in the tim&steph role swap au

Dick's burner phone buzzed, continuously and insistently, in the secret pocket of his Nightwing suit. He forwarded his personal calls to it (trusting Oracle and Proxy's good work to keep that data hidden) even on patrol because (contrary to Bruce's opinion on the matter), sometimes emergencies happened, even in his private life. But whoever was trying to get hold of him right now had picked the worst time.

Busting up this arms deal was just another Tuesday, but still--there were bullets involved. Dick couldn't afford to be distracted.

At least the pattern of the buzzing indicated it was someone In The Know--probably one of the Titans, and he was going to strangle Roy if Mia and Emiko had stolen his phone to make crank calls again.

His escrima snapped out at a man's neck, the taser at the end crackling to life, and he set a boot against another man's shoulder, tossing himself away as the retort of gunfire followed him. It bought him the split second necessary to flip his comm to his personal channel and answer the fucking phone. He grit out, "Look, I'm a little busy right now--"

"I am frustratingly aware," Junior Private Investigator Tim Drake hissed back at him, "considering I'm stuck in the rafters of this warehouse while you get busy."

Dick had been doing this for too long to actually snap his head around in surprise, but it was a near thing. The next spray of gunfire was close enough to raise his heartrate--something the vigorous acrobatics had failed to do--as he cut off one of the gun runners before she could make a break for it. One, two--crackle of the taser. He caught her with one foot before she could hit the ground, lightly redirecting her so she didn't slam her head on a metal pipe, and gracefully ducked beneath a wild punch. "Please tell me you're joking."

"Marcus Akron's wife is convinced he's cheating on her with a Blüdhaven barbie doll. He's not, but apparently he is funding this little venture. I was tailing him. You crashed the party." Gunfire echoed across the line, a moment behind reality, and Tim made a distasteful noise. "Look, every escape route I've got here is going to leave me disturbingly exposed, but I've got some quality photographic evidence I'd be delighted to exchange for a long enough distraction to excise myself from this situation." As an afterthought, he added, "Just don't make me talk to the cops; I hate dealing with the Blüdhaven PD. They make even Gotham's cops look competent."

Alright: so this just turned into a slightly bigger challenge than your average Tuesday.

Dick grinned, sharp and terrifying, and put another one of the gun runners onto the ground. "Where are you?"

"Three rafters east and about twenty feet south from the northwest corner of the building, tucked behind a column. There's a skylight about a hundred feet away; I need about twenty seconds and I can be out of here."

Dick threw himself into the air. The moment stretched; bullets whizzed past his outstretched fingertips; his feet hit the ground. He had a plan.

"In ten," he told Tim. "Be ready."

"Aye aye, Captain," Tim agreed, faintly sardonic, and Dick was laughing as he spun on his heel and sprinted directly for the man with the biggest gun.

"Overcompensating, huh?" he asked, sympathetic. "It's okay. I'm sure your wife loves you just the way you--" He yanked the guy's hand out to the side, sucking air through his teeth as he inspected the pale, empty divot on the guy's ring finger. "Mm. Maybe not."

There was the punch he was waiting for.

***

Dick found Tim sitting on the edge of the roof, back pressed against an HVAC vent with one leg dangling and the other stretched out next to him, when he was finally able to extricate himself. The night sky danced with flashing red and blue lights.

Tim looked up, though Dick was certain his footsteps had been silent on the metal roofing, and wiggled the camera. "There's good stuff here," he said, a little satisfied and a little defensive. "I do need to make copies for Mrs. Akron before I hand over the SD card, but it won't take long once I get back to my hotel."

"She gonna be the type to be relieved or furious that it was grandiose dreams of a criminal empire keeping her husband away at night, rather than a buxom blonde?" Dick eyed Tim's extended leg, frowning at the neat white bandage sticking out from underneath rolled up jeans, but he kept his tone light.

"Could go either way." Tim tucked the camera away into the messenger bag that sat next to him, following Dick's eyeline to his leg, and then huffed. "Inconvenient ricochet," he assured Dick. "Doesn't even need stitches. Did however inspire me to spam call your personal cell after my attempts to text Batgirl to tell her to hit up your comms failed."

Dick considered this. "You live a weird life," he decided, dropping down to sit next to him on the edge of the roof, and Tim snorted.

"Says the superhero to the PI. One of us has Superman on speed dial, and it sure isn't me."

Dick kept his eyes straight ahead, gazing out across the city he'd claimed as his own, but he could feel Tim looking at him. A little nervous, a little starstruck and pretending not to be, just like he always was around Dick. Jason had told Dick that Stephanie had told him that Jason used to be Tim's favorite Robin.

Dick was pretty certain Stephanie had been lying.

Probably for the sake of endearing Tim even slightly to Jason, in knowing anticipation of the ongoing and deeply entertaining animosity that they held for each other. The gambit had worked long enough to get the two blindingly competent morons to collaborate on that serial killer case, so it was hard to fault her for it. And Dick certainly wasn't going to tell Jason.

It's not like Dick wanted to be Tim's Favorite Robin (Other Than Stephanie); he'd already had that title--sans caveat--awarded to him by Superman. No offense to Tim, but that held a much higher cachet.

(Which--Bruce knew that Dick would absolutely pick Clark in the Justice League Divorce, right? He had to, at this point.)

Having Tim make those big doe eyes at him all the time was a little flattering, but it was also a little weird, and actually even a little annoying--if just because Dick liked Tim, and the hero worship thing made it hard to actually have a relaxed conversation with the guy. (So did the fact that Stephanie and Tim both retained six or seven years' worth of habitual avoidance techniques and a disdain for authority that Dick had been horrified to learn included himself, but it was mostly the hero worship thing.)

So Dick handled it the only way he could handle it: he ignored it.

"I don't have Superman on speed dial," he countered, turning to flash Tim a conspiratorial grin. "We have a secret whistle."

"Of course you do," Tim said.

Dick was pleased to hear the sarcasm outweigh the sincerity. He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows, and Tim huffed a laugh, shaking his head.

"I, uh--" He broke off as his phone began to buzz, shifting his weight to pull it out of his pocket, and sighed. He flashed the screen at Dick, showing a contact picture of himself and Stephanie. "Guess she finally saw the texts," he said dryly.

Time slowed down, the way it usually did when Dick was formulating a game plan in the middle of a fight, as Tim went to swipe up to answer the call.

Dick had been Stephanie's self-appointed surrogate big brother (whether she liked it or not) for years now, and it suddenly struck him that by the transitive property of lonely children and platonic soulmates, his obnoxious big brother duties absolutely extended to Tim, too.

Nightwing struck, faster than Tim could react; an open handed blow to the elbow that sent the phone flying even as Dick surged upwards to catch it and threw himself into a back handspring to recover. He answered the call himself, other hand extended to fend Tim off (squawking, "What the fuck?" as he scrambled after Dick), and held the phone to his ear.

"Tim, oh, thank god--"

Stephanie's voice was frantic enough to make him almost feel bad for what he was about to do. But only almost.

"Stephanie Brown?" Dick asked, in a grave tone. "It's Nightwing. I'm afraid I've got some rather serious news for you."

"What the fuck, Dick!" Tim repeated, more vehemently, and he made a grab for his phone.

Dick twisted away from him easily, biting back a cackle, and continued, "I didn't have time to answer my phone in the middle of the fight, so I wasn't aware of any civilian presence until everything was said and done. Your friend got shot--"

"WHAT?"

"--but it was just a graze. He did faint into my arms though."

Credit where it was due: Tim Drake had been going through the Batman Mandated Black Bat & Batgirl Mixed Martial Arts Boot Camp for months now, on top of the more traditional lessons he'd had as a teenager. He wasn't an untalented kid. By Dick's estimation, in strict hand-to-hand conditions Tim outclassed 99% of the general population and even some of the heroes Dick knew who were over-reliant on tech or superpowers.

That still put him a class below the bats and the birds of Gotham.

Dick cheerfully adjusted his weight, pinning Tim's arm to the ground beneath his knee as he controlled his head (read: shoved it into the ground) with his free arm, and continued blithely, "Yeah, he saw the blood and just keeled right over. The bullet wound is inconsequential; it's the blow to his ego that I don't think he'll recover from. He's going to need long term therapy and some self-help books--"

"You're the fucking worst," Stephanie told him. "You gave me a heart attack. So he's fine?"

"Except for the fainting and the--" Dick wheezed as one of Tim's pointy elbows managed to find its way into his diaphragm.

"Considering I have watched Boyfriend perform stitches on himself before, I'm going to go ahead and assume you're just trying--and failing--to be funny," Stephanie told him dryly.

"Why would he do his own stitches." Dick gave Tim a knuckle noogie, repeating, "Why would you do your own stitches? Kid. You're not an illegal vigilante with a secret identity to maintain. Just go to the hospital."

"I usually do--"

"He usually does--"

"--but there were extenuating circumstances."

The responses were in near unison, ruined only by the slight delay across the phone line, and Dick couldn't help but laugh, sitting back on his heels and letting Tim squirm out from under him. "You two are something else."

"Shut the fuck up and give Boyfriend back his phone," Stephanie ordered, and Dick politely held the phone out to Tim, who accepted it with a disgruntled glare.

So much better than the doe eyes, Dick thought with smug satisfaction.

"I'm fine," Tim said. He was sitting cross-legged on the rooftop carefully out of arms reach of Dick, eyeing him suspiciously. "Nightwing's an asshole. What else is new?" He was silent for a moment and then he rolled his eyes. "Because it seemed like a straightforward adultery case. How was I supposed to--No, come on. You know Red Bird makes most of its money on rich people's marital problems. I'd have to actually charge market rates on the more important cases if--I did not go into this business just because--Stop calling me a professional stalker, Stephanie. No, I won't agree to that trade. It's not the--Because he is. Look deep into your heart and admit it to yourself. He bought you an entire car and multiple motorcycles and a personal Batcave." Tim snickered. "Yeah, but even when we were dating I never bought you anything other than pizza and that thirty dollar tennis bracelet that turned your wrist green."

Dick remembered that, he realized. Stephanie had showed the bracelet off to him, bashful in a way he'd never seen her before about a boy treating her like she was special. She'd still been in braces at the time (and rightfully suspicious, despite Bruce's steadfast insistence that he'd had nothing to do with her selection for the program that helped Crystal afford them). It seemed to strike Dick, over and over, that Tim had been in the background, present but unseen, for nearly as long as Dick had known Stephanie.

Tim's voice softened. "Yeah, Stephie. Of course. You, too. Oh--tell Wendy I said hi, and to stop breaking into my system to steal my spreadsheets. I don't care if she can't get her own Vengeful Mad Scientist Predictive Algorithm to ignore Mr. Terrific; she needs to leave mine alone."

One last pause. Here, Tim's eyes flicked over to Nightwing, a light in his gray-blue eyes that had Dick raising his eyebrows in concern. "Well," Tim said, in a perfectly even tone. "That goes without saying."

He hung up.

"Do I wanna know?" Dick asked.

"Steph's revenge will be swift and unavoidable," Tim promised him, as he rose to his feet and dusted off his jeans.

"Sure," Dick agreed, though he silently suspected that Stephanie would be more pleased than upset once she recognized that Dick had successfully smashed through Tim's defenses and actually managed to become his friend.

Tim looked at him, hands on his hips, and then dropped his chin to his chest as he laughed, a little helplessly. "Oy. You know this...?" Tim gestured to indicate the rooftop, himself, the costumed vigilante he was speaking with. "Downright nostalgic. Sitting on top of an abandoned warehouse, waiting semi-patiently for a Robin to finish beating up ne'er-do-wells while I fiddle with the ISO on my camera, ending up with my face smushed into a rooftop while said Robin gloats from on top of me. You just need to give me a fond but rude nickname and threaten to throw me off the top of Wayne Tower, and I might as well be fourteen again."

Dick laughed himself, hopping up to his feet. "Wayne Tower's too far from here," he joked. "But don't worry, I know all the good skyscrapers in Blüdhaven."

"Think that means I do need to worry, actually."

"Oh, yeah. Absolutely." Dick snorted. "Stephanie would murder me with her bare hands, even if I whistled up Superman to come catch you."

"She worries," Tim said, with exasperated fondness, "as if she isn't also a regular ass human being with no superpowers."

"In full body armor, well-armed, and with years of training and experience," Dick countered dryly. "You get where the difference is here, right?"

Tim rolled his eyes, like the barely-not-a-teenager he was. "Well, thanks again for giving me an escape window. I--"

"You never thanked me the first time, actually," Dick said, steam rolling over whatever semi-graceful exit from the conversation Tim had been about to fashion for himself. "Not that I needed it. Thank you for the photos; I'm just going to assume they'll be helpful and win me brownie points with the BPD once I send them over. What does the traded favors thing mean for our relative standing, vis-a-vis the taco tax?"

Dick had never had it completely explained to him, but he'd heard Tim and Stephanie and even Cassandra reference "the taco tax" often enough to get the gist. Favors could be bought and apologies made via the gift of tacos from the recipient's restaurant or street cart of choice. The exchange rate seemed to be complex and dependent on a potentially sentient spreadsheet, but Dick figured they could simplify, just this once.

Tim blinked. "The taco tax," he repeated.

"It's only that I figure saving your life kind of outweighs the evidence thing," Dick said. "So I'm pretty sure you owe me, millionaire."

The kid scowled. "Saving my life is exaggerating a bit, don't you think? Not to mention the stunt you pulled with my phone, billionaire, so--"

Bingo. Dick wouldn't even bother to point out that Bruce was the rich one, not him. He knew Tim knew.

"So I owe you, then?" Dick clapped Tim on the shoulder, grinning. "Great. Let me show you the best taco place in Blüdhaven. They're even open 24/7."

***

Dick squeezed a lime over his seventh taco. Alfred was going to be horrified when he checked his diet log for the day.

He was in his civvies now, jeans and a tshirt and his favorite leather jacket (the one Jason had repeatedly tried and failed to steal, back when he was a small enough Robin to actually fit into his big brother's clothes) draped over the back of the seat. The flourescent bulbs over their heads flickered, filling the room with that quiet electric buzz, and the formica tabletop was chipped and peeling.

"Stupidest thing Stephanie's ever said to you," he suggested.

Tim snorted. "How am I supposed to pick."

"Alright, stupidest thing you've ever said to Steph."

To Dick's surprise--and delight--Tim laughed so sharply he nearly choked on a piece of radish.

"Oh, that one's easy," he wheezed, swiping at his face with a napkin. "We were fifteen. We'd been dating for like--a month. We'd kissed four times. One night, Stephanie turned to me on the swingset at the park we liked to hang out at when we weren't--" he waved a hand to indicate the vigilante activities that he wouldn't mention aloud in public--"You know. And she said, 'So, you should know I just found out I'm pregnant.'" Tim laid a hand on his chest. "And I said, 'My dad's going to kill me.'"

Dick threw his head back with the force of his laughter, and Tim joined in, shaking his head as he reached for his water glass. "She likes to trot that one out whenever she thinks I'm getting too uppity about my own intelligence."

"I can see why."

"In my defense, sex ed at a conservative boarding school is uniquely focused on trying to prevent teenage boys from having crises of sexuality that might scandalize their parents," Tim said dryly. "Less so on the actual mechanics of parenthood."

Dick snorted. "How'd that work out for them?"

His lips twitched. "Dunno. I'll have to ask my boyfriend when I get home." He sat back in his chair, grinning, and said, "My turn, right?"

With an inviting wave of his taco, Dick declared, "Hit me with your best shot."

"Weirdest reason you've ever been kidnapped."

"Hm." Dick turned the question over in his mind thoughtfully, as Tim picked his way through his third taco. He'd insisted Dick owed him eight of them, then gone outside and handed most of them--and a twenty--to the homeless guy they'd passed a block back. The guy had tried to kick him in the crotch in response. Ah, Blüdhaven. "One time there was a guy who was certain Bruce was secretly a lizard person--"

"Antisemitic. Continue."

Dick held a hand up as if to say, "Thank you." "That's exactly what I said, when he pulled the canvas bag off of my head and started telling me about it. It's exactly what Commissioner Gordon said, too, when he was interrogating the guy." He winked. "It was even what Batman said when he rescued me."

Straight-faced, Tim said, "The folks at my synagogue think Batman's Jewish, but I'm not convinced. I mean, what are the odds that Bruce Wayne and Batman, the two most famous Gothamites, are both Jewish?"

Dick struggled not to laugh. "Gee, Tim. That's a great point," he managed to choke out.

Tim ducked his head to hide the grin that he couldn't bite back any longer. "Now, that Superman, though--"

Dick kicked him under the table, wheezing.

"What a mensch."

"Shut up, I'm begging you."

Tim sat back, laughing, and rubbed a hand over his face. "These are really good tacos," he said. And, "Thanks." Sincerely, and with eye contact. Confident, sustained, non-doe-eyed eye contact.

He wasn't talking about the tacos. Dick smiled, setting his arm along the back of his chair. "You're welcome."

#tim drake #dick grayson #the tim&steph role swap au #canon dick & tim's relationship is soooo shaped. I've been trying to fit them--and the taco tax--into a fic since the beginning #but I never got it quite right #this is also somehow the first time the taco tax has ever made it to print despite being something I came up with during the first week #a couple notes: tim's robin rankings are actually much more complex than any one of them (except steph) being his ''favorite''#if anything his favorite is ACTUALLY damian. because damian is steph's surrogate little brother and that means he's tim's too.#and steph's reason for lying to jason was two-fold; partially the reason theorized above #and partially because tim's going to be apoplectic when he finds out she said that and it's gonna be really funny #the thing is that no one in this au is a fully reliable narrator at any moment. steph exaggerates; tim downplays; cass aids and abets

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mytardisisparked · 9 days

Text

20 Writer Questions

Was tagged by @emilie786!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

I currently have 46! I have a couple sittin' in the crockpot tho hehe.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

164,375

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Historically, I have written for Star Wars and Star Trek. Right now I am writing for The X-Files :)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

My top 5 are all older fics of mine: "When Sunrise Comes Early," "From the Depths of My Two Brain Cells," "The Voyager Bunch," "Ex Equis Scientia," "I'll Always be Around, Wherever Life Takes You"

5. Do you respond to comments?

Absolutely.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmmmmm hard to say because I tend to end even my angstiest fics on a hopeful note.... I guess maybe "Night Visions?" Or, I'm sure there's a one-shot back in Ye Olde Star Wars collections somewhere that was extra angsty, but I am not going back to read those right now because I have neither the time nor fortitude.

However, I will be publishing something during Merry Month of Cohen that is p angsty so keep an eye out for that he he :)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Again, hard to say because I end almost all of my fics on a happy/hopeful note. I feel like maybe "Blessed Be The Man?" I really liked the way that one ended.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really. I've had some... aggressive? comments before that bordered on rude, but they never seemed to be coming from a place of hate. Usually, it's just people who enjoyed the story but made the presumption of telling me an element they had wished was different in a way that was not very politely worded. I don't take a lot of offense to it. I'm not popular or controversial enough to get actual hate comments lol.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nah bro. I get giggly and weird when writing a kiss scene; what the characters do beyond that is none of my business lol.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not really? I tried writing a Star Trek Voyager/Star Wars crossover once but never finished it because it was not clicking. Other than that,,,,,,,, I guess @well-and-true and I keep having our Treksonas do holodeck programs based on The X-Files, which hasn't really been ficced (yet) but it's fun to imagine! Lots of shenanigans.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not in the manner that this question is asking, but I do consider the AI scrapping stuff to be theft and I'm not cool about it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! With @emilie786.

I've also done a LOT of idea bouncing with @baylardo @jellybeansarecool @elephant-in-the-pride-parade @maliciousalice @well-and-true and, while it hasn't turned into official co-writing (yet :]), their ideas and conversations and artwork have all been *deeply* valuable acts of collaboration. It's not co-writing in the official AO3 sense, but their words of encouragement and ideas are inseparably woven into almost all of my works from the last couple years.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I am very much impacted by the ole Hyperfixations so my favorite ship will almost always be whatever I am currently obsessed with. I never stop loving ships though. They are always lurking in the back of my mind. And sometimes they cycle back to the front. (right now I am DEEP in the MSR pit hehehe)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Ummmmmm I outlined an extremely ambitious fic based on the Threshold!AU that would be multichap to the extreme and I LOVE it a whole lot but I am not sure I will ever have the fortitude or attention span to actually write the whole thing. I want to so bad.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I like the way I write movement and nonverbal comm. I also like my dialogue, once I get a good understanding of the way a character talks (it can take a bit).

Aside from that, I like my comedy. I love love love writing comedy. I love the beat of it, I love the nitty-gritty of correctly timing it, I love that it can be dry or slapstick or subtle or witty, I love that it can be situational. I'm not a perfect comedy writer, but it's a shoe that fits me well and, IMO, I continue to fit better and better as I learn and practice.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

HOO BOY well,,,, lately I feel like I have been struggling with "show don't tell." IDK why. I also hate how often I start sentences with "He" or "She" and I wrestle with finding more interesting ways of beginning sentences. I mostly write short-form fics, but I am working on a multi-chap fic right now and I have discovered that longform plots can be difficult to wrangle. I just wanna skip the "plot" and get to the good stuff (the significant character scenes).

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If I could I would.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Way back in Yonder Years of fanfiction.net, I wrote for Marvel. Specifically, Captain America and Agent Carter. You will never find them.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

And Still, The Sea is Salt. I wrote it 2 years ago and it is still, IMO, my best work. It's a little more.... niche? of a ship and fandom (Pike/Una, Star Trek SNW) but I liked the story I told and the way I told it. And the poem I incorporated into it.

I also really liked my very first Star Trek: Enterprise fic, "Parent-Teacher Association," because I felt like I nailed the characterization and (as prev mentioned) I LOVE writing comedy.

This was fun! Tagging: @singeart, @elephant-in-the-pride-parade @jellybeansarecool @gaitwae @more-better-words @jenksel and anyone else who wants to

#I realized today that #while I only have 46 'works' on AO3 #if you count out my oneshot collections #as individual fics #i have published 106 fics on ao3 #which is absurd #I used to be such a prolific writer #now I publish maybe 10 fics a year #maybe #what was I on before????#ANYWAY LOL #I really like reading when people do these #its so fun to hear people talk about their processes and stuff

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innytoes · 1 year

Note

Sleepy prompts 👀 10 for Reggie/Carrie?

Set in the Nuclear Apocalypse Bunker AU.

After Reggie got better, things with Carrie got better too. T��a Victoria kept him under observation for another week, but she visited every day, bringing him food and talking to him. When it was just the two of them, she was different. Less tightly wound.

Reggie came back to the rest of the bunker and immediately got pulled into a Molina family group hug, and then another one with Luke and Alex (his parents frowning in the background). Even Trevor gave him a part on the back, smiling. Things were kind of weird between them, seeing as how Trevor kind of saved his life but also kind of broke the rules to do so.

So things settled down again. Reggie returned to his chores, returned to cracking jokes with Willie over the comms, returned to doing whatever he could to make himself useful around the bunker. But now, he got to joke and hang out with Carrie as well. And maybe even, you know, hold hands. They were taking things slow, since they literally had all the time in what was left in the world, but it was pretty awesome.

Which was why he was the one who was pulled aside by Julie. "Hey, have you noticed something off about Carrie?" she asked. For a second, he was offended, like 'she's suddenly likes you now' was something weird and off. But now that he thought about it, she had been more and more tired lately. And snappy, but not like before, not just to him. More like she was having trouble keeping it together with everyone.

"She's been kind of tired," he agreed.

"I'm worried about her," Julie said. "And I think someone should talk to her. Someone like her boyfriend."

He flushed. "Oh we... we haven't... it's not... We haven't labeled it yet." Julie gave him a knowing look. She was like the sister he always wanted, he loved her so much. "But yeah, I'll talk to her."

So, after dinner, that's what he did. Trevor was out... schmoozing, or something. He was usually over at the Mercers or the Pattersons or even the Molinas, or holed up in the comms room talking to people in other bunkers. So he could manage to slip into their pod pretty easily without anyone noticing.

Carrie was in her room. He'd never actually been in Carrie's room yet, and he smiled at how she made the sterile place her own, just like she'd made the pretty standard uniform her own. There were sparkly stars made from food packaging stuck to the walls and ceiling, and little paper origami flowers strung up, and all the sad metal railings had been draped with fabric.

Carrie herself was hunched over her desk in a posture Reggie was very familiar with. It was the same one she used to get in math class, before he started tutoring her. Frustrated but trying not to show it.

"Hey babe," he said quietly, and she whirled around, clutching... a science book to her chest? "Whatcha doing?"

"What are you doing here?" she snapped. But Reggie knew better than to be intimidated by that now.

"Just wanted to check in with you," he said, flopping on her bed. She looked like she wanted to say something about him messing up her bedding, but he just smiled at her. "Missed you. You've been holed up in your room after dinner these past few..." Now that he thought about it, almost as long as he'd been better. "Weeks."

"I've been busy," she said.

"Doing science homework?" he asked. They did get lessons, sometimes. A lot of it was improvised, between the adults here and adults from other bunkers when they had time. Music class from The Trevor Wilson kind of was the coolest thing ever. Ray taught them Spanish, Mr and Mrs Patterson taught them all kinds of stuff about history, modern history, politics... basically what lead up to them being stuck here. Like if the understood, they weren't doomed to repeat it.

The Mercers, when they could be torn away from their Top Secret Whatever in the Bunker taught them science-y stuff like chemistry and physics, and Tía Victoria taught them biology and medicine. But this book was way beyond what Victoria was teaching them. "You aiming for an internship with the Mercers?" he asked. If anyone could talk her way into that top secret lab, it was Carrie.

"Oh very funny, Reginald," Carrie snapped, throwing the book at his head. He dodged, flinching. "We both know I'm not fucking smart enough for that." Part of him wanted to run, but then he saw the unshed tears in Carrie's eyes.

"Babe, you're plenty smart," he soothed.

"No I'm not!" Carrie shouted. "When you got sick I didn't understand a word of Victoria's explanation, and I can't do math, and I heard Mrs Mercer tell Mr Mercer that it was a good thing I was pretty and healthy, so I could be a good wife to Alex and have plenty of babies to keep civilization going, because I was never going to be a scientist." She burst into tears, and Reggie gathered her up in a hug.

"I'm just so tired," she sobbed as he stroked her back. "I don't understand it and I keep rereading the same things and I'm just so tired."

"Okay first of all, fuck what the Mercers think," he said. "They've been stuck in here for years and they still haven't realised their son is gay as fuck." Okay maybe they'd all been helping cover up Alex' conversations with Willie, but it wasn't like he was that subtle. "Also, just like, ew. To all of that." Carrie sniffled her face buried against his chest.

"And second of all, who cares if you're not gonna be a scientist? There's more to rebuilding civilization than scientists." Carrie opened her mouth, probably to say something about being a... a broodmare or whatever creepy philosophy the Mercers had. "You know how to talk to any of the adults here, like an equal. You're literally the only one who understands Mr Patterson when he forgets he's not giving a university Philosophy class, or when figuring out what Mrs Patterson means when we're dissecting what went wrong with the world and politics and stuff."

"But that stuff is easy," she said.

"Yeah, to you!" Reggie hugged her close. "Babe, you're not a future scientist. You're like, the future President. You know how to talk to people, and get them to like you, and you know how they tick." He didn't mention that when she used her powers for evil, like when she'd been mad at him, she was pretty devastating as well. He was pretty sure she knew that. "The world doesn't just need scientists. We also need leaders."

Carrie swallowed hard, rubbing at her eyes. "You mean it?"

"Of course," he said. He leaned down and nuzzled his nose against hers. "Besides, I have my hopes set on being First Husband." She laughed, before looking at him. He flushed when he realised the implications of what he just said.

"I think I can work with that," Carrie said, smiling at him. She sat up. "I should... I should make a list. Talk to Emily. See about connecting with all the other bunkers, start forming relationships with..."

"Okay, POTUS," he said, reeling her in and pulling her back onto the bed. "First, you are going to take a nap. You look exhausted, Carebear. The world, or what's left of it, will still be there for you to conquer tomorrow."

For a moment, he thought Carrie was going to argue with him. "Will you stay?" she asked instead.

"For as long as you want me too," he agreed.

#julie and the phantoms #nuclear apocalpse au #carriexreggie #this got so long and I nearly forgot to include the actual prompt lol #fanfic #I wrote a thing #post apocalypse #yes Carrie does talk with Emily and is newly focused and determined #Julie is like: wtf did you say to her #and Reggie is like: um so just in case this turns out badly and Carrie takes over the world this is all your fault #Reggie 100% thinks about his own future and is like: yeah I'm fine being the bunker's official child care and manual labour and stuff #no science or politics for me thank

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watchtowerindistress · 1 year

Text

we are not our demons (18/24) - bruce wayne x batmom

Gif source: jokerous

Author's note: SHIT'S ABOUT TO GET REAL, BITCHES! instantly regrets the endearment A lot of things will be happening this chapter, so you'd better strap in, I'm serious. This chapter is actually longer than I expected, lol. It's one of the chapters I've been anticipating the most and therefore was most afraid to write.

This is the first time I did a Nolan/Tarantino and just switched the chronological timeline, but this time it was deliberate. I had big issues starting this off (what else is new?), so I just changed it up a bit.

Please excuse me using some 'The Killing Joke' quotes and butchering the whole everything of that comic. [Read more at the end.]

Beta-read by Heidi.

Words: 6.2k

Warning: language, violence, kinda dark themes

Please reblog/leave a comment.

Series Masterlist | Want to be tagged? | Read on AO3

Hang my head

Drown my fear

‘Til you all just disappear

- Black Hole Sun by Soundgarden -

“Gotta say, weirdest feeling ever being invited into Arkham,” Dick’s voice reverberated through the comms with an equal blend of weirded-out and teasing.

Behind her glasses, Ellie’s eyes narrowed when Dick’s blue-and-black superhero outfit came into view on the next CCTV camera. She tilted her head. “Are you walking on tiptoes right now?”

Dick’s lone figure tensed briefly and continued walking with a flatter stride, but ultimately his shoulders remained strained. “I was a circus artist. Learned ballet and stuff,” Dick defended with a calm voice.

“Please keep off the comms unless it’s important. Don’t get sidetracked,” Bruce’s modulated voice echoed in her ears with a deep timbre.

Someone meant business.

Ellie pressed her lips together to ward off her blushing cheeks. Perhaps she was getting ahead of herself due to her nerves and the excitement for tonight’s mission. “Check,” she conceded and studied the available cameras for the asylum, but Batman’s shape still remained to be seen. Judging from his tracker, he was in the elevator shaft getting closer to the crème de la crème of the place.

“Are we sure it’s tonight, Batman?” Damian asked dubiously and brought them back to the mission preparation they just had before in the Batcave.

“Wait, run that by me again.” Ellie licked her lips and felt herself blinking furiously at what Bruce just revealed impromptu.

He sent her a furtive glance when he jostled the phone prototype amid the quiet hum of the elevator leading its inhabitants down to the basement.

“What did that guy say exactly?”

His eyes paused on her, with his eyebrow lifted high on his forehead. “You mean verbatim?”

“Why don’t you start by revealing who that was on the Bat-phone?”

Other than his throat clearing, Bruce remained unfazed when he spoke, “I got someone in the inside of the asylum. He told me the patients have been acting restlessly as of late.”

Ellie merely pursed her lips and a crease formed on her forehead at the absurdity of that one confession.

Dick stated, “Okay, most eerie sentence ever,” and let his finger point in the air to share his playful opinion.

“I concur wholeheartedly,” Ellie agreed with a swaying head before a sigh left her lips. “And here I thought I’d get a more challenging task than the Asylum’s defense.”

“There is more than just Arkham Asylum out there. Trust me,” Bruce replied with an indulgent smirk.

Ellie’s shoulders dropped in accepting disappointment. “Alright.”

As soon as everyone filtered into the cave, Ellie could get to work. After a combination of soft keystrokes, the monitors came to life.

Damian was silently watching the live footage of an athletic Harley Quinn doing slow and relaxing Yoga poses. At the moment she was cultivating an elaborate handstand that would make Ellie envious if she wasn’t this distracted by more important matters.

Bruce nodded to himself, having made up his mind for their mission. “It’s tonight. It has to be.”

“Wait, what’s with this mood lighting?” Dick’s head whipped around, almost like he was noticing the atmosphere for the first time. His voice reached her ears in a mischievous lilt.

Ellie glanced up from her position to be more aware of her surroundings. Dick managed to wrap that truth with a shroud of playfulness once he had his first impression of the modified cave.

Just like Bruce had promised, Alfred had dimmed the lights considerably until the fluorescence was no longer blinding. It even astonished and left her heart aflutter. Not to mention seeing a few technical adjustments to their hideout.

There was always this fascination seeing new technology within her grasp. Especially when she moved towards the object that had the impression of a normal—if not pricey-looking—table standing in the middle of their base. Her fingers reverently touched the milk glass, almost like she could feel being in the presence of high tech, only to see a ripple effect forming underneath.

The words ‘Welcome Miss Rhodes’ conjured next to her right.

Ellie didn’t know whether to feel freaked out or mesmerized by this tech’s high prowess in knowing her identity.

“I adapted the tech to fit your needs.”

Behind her, the soothing warmth of Bruce’s body resembled that of a shield originating from her right side. Ellie’s mesmerized gaze moved away from the touchscreen display to shift over towards the new presence.

Before she could continue asking, Bruce explained like he had been reading her mind, “It’s linked to a satellite of Wayne Enterprises. We call it the Satellite Intelligence and Gravitational Network of Artificial Level. S.I.G.N.A.L. for short.”

“You have a satellite?” Her head turned in surprise before she muttered quietly, “Of course, you have a satellite.” Ellie shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just gifted me a satellite.”

Bruce shrugged with a quiet sigh. “The one we had to rebuild after Superman destroyed it, yes. And it’s a satellite link.”

The boys seemed to have noticed their exchange when—like a kid on Christmas awaiting their presents—Dick’s laser-focused glance switched over to her new toy.

“Oh dang, holy Batman!” he exclaimed before his emotional outburst morphed into a reverential murmur the closer he ventured towards them. “New gadgets,” Dick murmured with an awe-filled voice.

“Just for the HQ.” Bruce barely tamed his son’s elation with the lift of an eyebrow.

Dick shrugged haphazardly at that. “I don’t mind. Just so you know, my escrima sticks could use an upgrade too, you know?” It was hard to imagine how his pout could rival Tim’s. “An extra kick would be nice, y’know what I mean?”

Ellie didn’t see Bruce’s reaction, but his long sigh was the familiar epitome to Dick’s playful ideas, or maybe just the weariness of parenthood had been creeping up on him. Listening quietly, Ellie’s brows lifted high on her forehead. Half curious about their conversation and half expectant to get to their nightly mission.

“We’ll see,” Bruce mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe Alfred could try his hand at that,” he offered with a contemplative expression.

Dick’s arrogant pout was perfectly in sync with his head nodding in understanding.

Bruce’s eyes met Damian’s expectantly, whose arm leaned with a devil-may-care attitude against the edge of the table. Ellie absolutely loved this state-of-the-art technology. It was one of the reasons why her eyes lingered with deep fascination on the interface display slowly coming to life, and not Bruce’s response.

“Anything else to add to the shopping list, Damian?”

“I could use a flamethrower,” the young one replied with a blank expression, and kept going once he met the anticipating faces of his father and Ellie riveted on him. Damian pursed his lips in contemplation, racking his brain on how to indulge his lethal instincts.

“Too much? A taser?” Rapid-fire suggestions left his mouth when he was met with reluctance. “Something small to electrocute my enemies with? Like, let’s say … how does 300,000 Volt sound?”

His father’s eye twitched at the blatant display of just pure violence. Dick gazed at Damian while hugging his body with a cocked hip. “How about overkill?”

“You could incapacitate someone with that.”

“Maybe that’s the point.”

“How much AMP?”

"3.6 milliamp."

Bruce paused in thought before consenting ultimately. “Alright. But the moment someone loses their memory, we’ll adjust.”

“Fine.” Damian’s lips thinning was the only facial gesture revealing his emotions to that compromise.

“Wonderful.” Ellie lightly clapped her hands together to move things along. Her sideways glance met Bruce when she inquired, “Back to the task?”

He nodded briefly before saying, “Yes.”

At first, the modern technology was something to get used to. But Ellie still adored the integrative innovation—it just needed a few minutes to connect to the Batcomputer. The files she was looking for slowly pulled up when she swiped the blueprint of Arkham Asylum to the main screen of the milk glass surface.

“This might seem familiar to you, guys,” Ellie surmised once everyone had a good view of the access points.

“As of now, we have been formally invited to Arkham Asylum,” Bruce’s declaration sounded ominous enough as it was.

Ellie’s head nodded in severity while Dick’s blue eyes settled on the visual illustration and his hands braced against his hips. “What’s the game plan?”

“Damian and I go ahead. Dick, you’re following behind on the bike. We go in through the back entrance. Go in separate directions and cover as much ground as possible.”

Damian furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. “Divide and conquer,” he hummed, nodding carefully.

Ellie sent him a crooked smirk as her brown eyes twinkled in delight. “Someone’s really digging that strategy.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Damian explained, “What can I say? I deeply admire Caesar’s techniques.”

Dick’s eye moved confusedly in his sockets. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he muttered under his breath.

Bruce cleared his throat to get them back on track. “As I was saying, we move quickly. And always notify our status over the comms. Quinn is kept in the East Wing, in one of the maximum containment cells.”

Ellie only had one thing to add. “Not to mention, deemed highly dangerous. Security thought she’d incentivize people into riots if they kept her just in the violent ward with the others.”

Damian merely nodded in consent while Dick remained mild-mannered, and replied, “Duly noted.”

“Suit up,” Bruce commanded with an authoritative voice, leaving no room for objections.

“Yes,” Bruce offered, not leaving room for any argument. “Status on Quinn?”

“I’m sorry, but if you request contact to the command center of this Bat-Lair, you’re gonna have to use the designated code name.”

Bruce’s loud sigh made her lips twitch and judging by the snickers emanating from Dick and Damian, they too agreed with teasing Bruce just for a little bit. Several seconds passed, prompting Ellie to patiently raise her eyebrows and wonder if he was going to cave.

Bruce coughed before he finally uttered through clenched teeth, “Aether, tell me the status on Harley Quinn.”

“What’s with that look?”

Bruce tilted his head in fascination. “I don’t know. Maybe I was really afraid you’d still choose Lady Pumpkin.”

Ellie shrugged her shoulders. “Hey, Lady Pumpkin Patch, if I may. Besides, didn’t want to use my former grey hat hacker name—I mean, not that I would ever dabble in something like that.”

“Sure.” He pursed his lips mockingly with a nod. “How long did it take you to find the right alias?”

Ellie licked her lips, remembering all the possibilities and how most of them were either outlandish or already taken. Mentally, she pumped her clenched fist in frustration.

Damn you, Spectre.

“There were definitely some lists.”

“Why Aether then?”

“It originated from Greek mythology.”

Bruce hummed in acknowledgment. “Primordial deity.”

Ellie’s eyes widened in amazement at his lightning-fast intellect but admonished herself just as fast. Why was she still surprised by this man’s deep knowledge? “Exactly. The Aether is the epitome of the upper sky and basically the pure upper air that the Gods breathe.” Ellie shrugged her shoulders, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. “Maybe I just like the idea of being your eye in the sky.”

Ellie could feel Dick’s presence behind her, especially when he used the back of her revolving chair she was sitting on as a support for his arms. Dick was leaning against it and casually steered her movements out of sheer amusement.

“I think it’s great,” Dick threw in and instantly managed to soothe her worries of sounding cheesy when she threw her head back to send him a grateful smile.

A certain someone sounded close to growling.

Ellie shut off her comm line to giggle to herself before she got serious again when she answered, “In her cell. Doing the plank pose…” Her eyes lingered in enthrallment on the woman’s steady core training while she was holding herself up with the underside of her arm. “Quite expertly if I do say so myself,” Ellie muttered under her breath.

“I’ll report to you when there are new status updates.”

“Ditto.”

Ellie exhaled loudly, shutting off her audio. This night turned out to be even more stressful than she anticipated. Her arms stretched out in front of her when a hand brushed her shoulder.

“Oh, dear God!” Ellie shrieked and pressed a hand against her chest. The spot where she was touched shifted from ice-cold shock to a hot mark of mortification. Her eyes wandered to her right side before her breathing turned back to normal. “You’re such a Ninja-Alfred—don’t do that to me, okay?”

Alfred’s lips twitched at the coined name before his hands clasped together inches away from his stomach. “My deepest apologies for my stealthiness, Miss Ellie.”

“Accepted,” Ellie conceded with an exhaling breath.

Tim’s small figure stepped away from behind Alfred’s tall frame like he had been silently standing there all along—

someone had been learning from Damian after all—

and clasped his fingertips on the edge of the table while gazing at the computer display.

“Hey, Timmy,” came Ellie’s softly spoken words. It was hard to resist the urge to comb her hand through his hair—the intelligent boy always had this rumpled look to him. Who didn’t want to squeeze those pinchable cheeks?

“Hi, Ellie,” Tim replied with a barely audible voice. His moss-green eyes met hers for a fragment of a second before they were lingering on Harley’s hands talking to each other.

“I thought Master Tim here needed a breath of fresh air from one of his binge-reading sessions, as the young kids like to call it,” Alfred thankfully answered her unspoken question. “We’re not here to disrupt your progress. This young gentleman wants to observe my chore of upgrading equipment.”

Ellie’s head tilted to look at the side of Tim’s face. “Someone’s turning into a young Alfred, huh?” she praised the boy before she was forced to shift her focus back to the task she was initially assigned for. “Sorry, guys, gotta devote my time to some clowns for a bit, alright?”

“Proceed. We’ll be right around the corner at the workstation,” Alfred offered with the wave of his hand and stepped backwards, prompting Tim to move ahead. The small kid’s movements were awkward and slow-paced when his footsteps thudded lightly on the ground.

“Can I hold the screwdriver, Alfred?” he inquired curiously when he placed the wooden stool near his feet and elevated himself to a higher level.

“I need steady hands though. You think you can be my little assistant?”

Tim quietly nodded, with his eyes already focusing on the shock gloves needing another upgrade.

With a smile tugging on her lips, Ellie shifted her body back until she was facing the Batcomputer again.

“Robin, what’s your status?”

Silence followed Batman’s order. A predicament which made Ellie’s head do a double-take. Taking the second monitor to her advantage, the tips of her fingers pressed fluidly against the keypad to access the GPS tracker in the Robin suit.

Ellie frowned with an intense aura once Damian’s location became visible. “I can trace Robin’s position back to the hallway close to the containment cells.”

Before her alert status was even fully articulated, Batman’s figure rushed through the air on the security footage.

“I thought we were supposed to talk to each other,” Dick mused grumpily.

A statement which incited Bruce to retort with a growling voice, “Just focus on the task at hand.”

Deep suspicion throbbed at the back of her head when Harley looked straight ahead, with her blue eyes staring intensely at something behind the containment glass. The woman was standing so close to the barrier that it was hard to distinguish which kind of emotions boiled behind those ocean eyes. Menace was radiating in waves off of her.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, a masked Joker goon stepped into view, with his back turned towards her. Chills erupted on her forearms when the clown slowly turned his head until he was looking directly into the camera.

Disgust coiled her stomach into knots as she groaned, “Screw this Purge shit.”

Someone coughing barely reached her senses. “Everything alright there, Miss Rhodes?”

“Just splendid, Alfred,” Ellie replied instantaneously before she let her fingers do their hacker magic. Her brown eyes strained vehemently on the heat signature painting a vivid picture of the threat ahead.

“I detect about a dozen hostiles. Get ready, it’s starting.”

“Understood,” Bruce replied with an ominous voice after a moment of silence.

Tension wreaked through her body when she switched between the camera channels, but unfortunately the Joker was a no-show and only his crazy thugs roamed the halls without a care in the world. Not to mention, no sign of Damian either.

Ellie’s hand covered her clenched fist which shielded her mouth. “Please, be alright,” she whispered into her palms in a prayer. “I’ve sent you Robin’s location to the tracer device. You’re about 500 feet away from him.”

“We’ll find him,” the caped crusader assured her.

“Is that you, Batman?” The notoriously high voice resounded in her ears.

Ellie’s head whipped in the air once she connected the guffawing nature of the sound with the origin. She held her breath as the sensation of ants crawling underneath her skin made the extent of her worst fears for tonight’s mission come to fruition.

Son of a bitch.

With a gradual sweep, Ellie’s eyes shifted to the left side of the screen and identified the transforming waveform of the communication link next to the codename ‘Robin’. The muscles surrounding her mouth stiffened at the Joker’s violation.

“Why won’t you talk to me, Batsy?” Joker said after heavy silence hung in the air.

All-consuming tenacity infiltrated her veins like a parasite when her upper body shifted into a more agile stance. “I’ve opened a separate channel. Joker has access to our line with the help of Robin’s radio device. Keep him talking. I still have no visual on Joker or Robin yet.”

“Got it,” Dick stated hurriedly over the radio. “En route from the Southeast corridor.”

The clown’s voice was starting to grate on her ears. “I know you’re in here. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been desperate to get in touch with me. Is something the matter, Batsy?”

“Stop playing games, Joker,” Batman grunted lowly as his blinking dot got increasingly closer to the younger vigilante, and hopefully their target as well.

“And take all the fun away?” He giggled with a demented air that didn’t fail to leave shivers down her spine. “You’re just as humorless as this little bird here.” Joker’s pregnant pause gave way to something far more sinister lurking underneath.

“You have something to say to the good ol’ bat?” A humming noise reverberated from deep within his chest. “No, nothing to say? Looks like someone’s too stubborn for his own good. I got ways of making people talk,” Joker stressed every word of that last sentence with a ground whisper.

“Leave Robin out of this.”

“Why don’t you say that to my face? But first, you’ve got to find me,” he sing-songed devilishly.

Ellie’s eyes zeroed in on the scene she was witnessing when she leaned forward, pushing her glasses higher up the bridge of her nose. She whispered quietly into the microphone device, “I got visual on Robin and Joker. They’re on the platform leading to the containment cells.”

“All this attention just for little ol’ me? Tell me something, Batsy, when are you finally going to break your rules? You barely bent them for that little birdie. I wonder … how far are you willing to go for Commissioner Gordon’s niece?”

~ Bruce POV~

Bruce forced himself to remain calm in his composure as the halls surrounding him grew darker the closer he got to the blinking dot of his son. His jaw clenched at the reminder of Jason’s fate and the meaningless abuse on Barbara.

As much as Bruce wanted to release his inhibitions to hurt his nemesis in return, under no circumstances could he unveil his pressure point to him.

Bruce’s features twisted into a disgusted grimace. “You hurt Barbara … because you wanted to prove something? If you were half a man, you would stop being a coward and face me without hiding behind a child,” he enunciated the last word calmly despite the turmoil ravaging inside him. The dark cape swooshed near the ground behind him when he rounded the corner—

and faced the one thing he had been dreading for weeks on end.

Bruce sighed under his breath. Joker was standing on the opposite end of the bridge while his crazed thugs held Damian captive with the threat of using their firearms against him.

As usual, Damian was facing his opponents with a stubborn glare and a sharp jaw. Other than a red bruise forming on his cheek.

At last, Bruce’s eyes targeted the delighted expression in the Joker’s bright green-eyed gaze. His purple glove-covered hands stretched out in a flamboyant attitude on each side, a golf club clenched tightly in one glove. “Well, here I am,” the green-dyed man giggled from afar. “And it looks like I found another Robin.”

Bruce stopped in his tracks when the words he heard from a distance echoed like a haunting trigger in his ears as well. Stretching out his gloved fingers, he resisted the urge to create some friction at his fingertips and reveal another weakness. Not necessarily an outcome Bruce preferred in the grand scheme of things.

Disappointment was the predominant expression on his face when the Joker shook his head, dropping his hands at his waist. “Not the welcome I expected.”

“How did you expect me to react exactly?”

“Grateful,” he hissed with a menacing whisper, “I’m trying to open your eyes here, but you make it so much harder than it needs to be.”

“Keep him talking,” Ellie’s whispering voice said in his ear softly and calmed his thudding heart, “Nightwing is right underneath you and will act on your signal.”

Bruce’s gaze swerved to Damian’s right and subtly hummed in consent.

“I’m listening. What do you want to show me?”

“Your true self. Don’t you realize that all it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy?” Like the thought itself was hilarious, his voice pitched even higher. “That’s how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day. You had a bad day once. Surely, you must have. You had a bad day, and it drove you as crazy as everybody else… only you won’t admit it!”

This psychology lesson was starting to grate on his nerves the longer he had to listen to Joker’s delusions, especially since he couldn’t control his son getting even more hurt the further this was prolonged.

“Barbara was innocent in all of this.”

“She was necessary. A means to an end to the grand play.”

Every single word he uttered was pulled apart with a growling sensation. “Let. Robin. Go.”

Joker’s erratic scream echoed through the asylum, “As soon as you finally admit it!” before the sound transformed into maniacal laughter. “That we’re the same.” His hands hid behind his back as he casually walked around Damian’s body when he tried to prove his point. The threatening glint of the metal shone under the asylum’s lights. “Only I realized that nothing made sense—that code of yours, of value, of morality—it means nothing. You think those rules are protecting people?”

A twisted smirk drew on his curved lips as an icy expression took over his eyes. “When I saw what a dark, awful joke the world was, I went crazy as a nut! And I’m smart enough to admit it! So why can’t you!?” The green in his eyes only intensified with the crazed look. “You’re clinging to this reality, and you’re desperately denying the reality of the situation! Everything anybody’s ever valued or struggled for—it’s all just a bad joke.”

God, that guy needed psychological help.

The shoulders in his dark-purple suit shook with erupting chuckles that grew with intensity at the mere idea. “So why can’t you see the funny side!? WHY AREN’T YOU LAUGHING!!??”

“We are not the same,” Bruce replied calmly.

Joker exhaled loudly. “You disappoint me, Batman,” he muttered gravely. Before long, his face turned dark as he slowly lifted his head and sent him a diabolical glance from under his eyelashes.

“Don’t you see?” The gloves squeaked with its movement when his grip tightened on the metal equipment. “You’re just one bad day away from being me,” Joker breathed with exertion before whooping laughter wrenched free from his chest.

“Woohoohoo,” he exclaimed gleefully and swung his golf club, striking behind him.

“No!” Bruce’s voice scrambler contorted his outcry when his eyes widened.

~ Ellie POV ~

Tears gathered in the corner of Ellie’s eyes. Her palms covered her mouth in shock to ward off the scream in mid-cry. Soundless static rang in her ears at the horrifying video revealing the pained expression underneath Damian’s mask as he was brought to his knee, holding his arm to his chest.

Robin’s health stats were displayed above his audio waveform. His heartbeat intensified at the added injury, giving off bouts of anxiety.

“Damian,” Ellie heard behind her quietly. With a stricken face, the brunette stood up from her seat and detected Tim was standing behind her—and closer than she first realized.

Her back shielded most of the Batcomputer from any onlookers, but the boy still had seen enough. Her eyes wandered towards Alfred’s concerned gaze and hoped he understood what she was asking for here. “Alfred, could you—?” she begged with a thick voice.

“Certainly, Miss Ellie,” Alfred assured her and moved in the direction of Tim.

Ellie pleaded with him, “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t do that if—”

Alfred nodded once before soothing her worries. “Nothing to worry about. We’ll be on the floor below.”

Tim’s widened eyes looking back tore at her heartstrings. But unfortunately, Ellie needed to jump in the cold water again, she realized, when she sat in the chair. Her fingers were shaking nervously above the keyboard, feeling too stunned to react. The edges of her sight blurred with a throbbing pulse until she clenched her hands into fists. Trying to fend off the chill which had taken root in her body.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ellie worked on accessing the asylum’s power grid. Her heart only hammered more vigorously in her chest at witnessing Joker deliver a blow over the head when he was lying defenselessly on the platform.

Jesus. Ellie absolutely was starting to loathe this retro network.

“Wouldn’t it be a shame if this one endured the same fate as its predecessor? You love birds with broken wings, don’t you?”

She frowned deeply in perplexed stupor when Batman wasted no time in utilizing the grappling hook—generally intended for scaling walls—

and targeted the Joker’s throat. With the flick of his wrist the criminal was dragged like an accelerated magnet towards him. The tips of Joker’s feet crawled on the metal grid underneath before a hard punch so powerful sent him flying over the ledge. Without glancing back, Batman dropped the hook, letting the end of it anchor on the edge of the railing. A dangling Joker was gasping for breath and clawing for his throat.

Nightwing sprinted under the metal overpass and spoke incredulously on comms, “That was supposed to be the signal? Really?”

“We need to get the Joker. Just keep Robin safe,” Ellie reminded Dick with intense fervor.

His black-and-blue suit jumped from underneath and with a somersault kicked an assailant in the face before landing on his feet. “On it.”

Despite the grievous injuries, Damian tried his best to fend for himself when his stepbrother came to his defense, fighting together back-to-back.

The sound of quick keystrokes was a dull diversion thumping at the back of her head when her brain tried to comprehend her viewpoint. The mess of everything was truly starting to gnaw at Ellie once Bruce’s rigid stature stalked towards the ledge.

Ambiguity marred her features as soon as her eyes switched between Joker’s hollering face—notwithstanding the life-threatening situation he was in—and Bruce just silently staring at him with a blank face. The corners of her mouth twisted with torn emotion as Joker lifted his arm in surrender, pleading with Batman to be saved.

“Is this really how you want this to end, Batsy?” he taunted with a wheezing murmur.

This was seriously getting out of hand, Ellie perceived numbly.

The electric grid was laid in front of her eyes, including the code to initiate a lockdown. At the last second, Ellie opted for a lockout instead of merely a power grid outage to keep everyone contained. She felt close to tasting her success when the blueprint glared red before an error alert displayed ‘Electricity outage initiated’.

“What?” Ellie hissed, throwing her hands in the air in utter dismay. Her gaze twisted back to the live footage and found the asylum doused into darkness.

“What was that?” Batman’s voice inquired urgently.

“That wasn’t me,” she spoke into the microphone defensively. “You’ll get power back in a few seconds,” Ellie confided in them as her fingers entered its new command into the network. She closed her eyes in immense failure after studying the asylum halls and knowing the one thing for sure she had suspected.

The Joker had already disappeared.

Ellie’s breath released with a long exhale. Her hands were tightened into fists. Her jaw was clenched while she was trying with all her might to keep her cry of frustration in. With her wide eyes and mouth agape, she was facing the screen. Feeling so empty in a way she had never felt before.

“I didn’t do this,” she stated with a dazed sensation in her chest and pressed her lips together.

Her body was operating on auto-pilot when she called in everyone for a mission debrief. Everyone except Dick who stayed behind to placate the executives at Arkham Asylum.

Ellie’s jaw hardened once this unfamiliar code was branded into her eyeballs. She rubbed the heel of her hand against her closed eyelids. Ellie just felt so drained, like she had persisted through the end of a therapy session.

A heavy exhale pushed through her chest when she stood up, only for her breathing to pick up as well. Ellie’s eyes didn’t meet anything in particular with her head bowed down.

With great and surprising finesse, her voice sounded without emotion when she called out, “I need some fresh air, okay, Alfred? The others will arrive in 15 minutes.”

Her unfocused eyes stared right ahead while Alfred said in return, “Duly noted, Miss Ellie.”

Her gait was unhurried and Ellie stroked the tips of her fingers together when she was struggling to understand why her heart started thudding in her ears while quiet tears crept in the corner of her eyes.

Why was it so hard to keep everything together?

Furiously, Ellie shook her head as the familiar walls of the corridor met her eyes. The fingertips of her right hand brushed against the wall to hold onto something as long as she wanted to remain conscious. Inhaling deep breaths turned out to be a mistake when her breathing stuttered with nervous energy. With every inhale and exhale, Ellie got closer to the entrance door of the manor—she could almost taste that whiff of relief.

She breathed out as soon as the biting air occupied her lungs. Stepping out onto the front entryway, Ellie’s hands vigorously brushed her wool cardigan, feeling grateful for the autumn chill.

Trying to find something—just anything to hold onto—her head anxiously swerved around. Every breath was starting to hurt. Even breathing in was a struggle not to break down. Hot tears only intensified the bout of frustration swelling up, threatening to swallow her whole. Ellie’s chest rose irregularly with every breath as her hands settled on her hips. Burning teardrops streamed relentlessly down her cheeks and it felt just so useless.

Damian’s anguished eyes flashing through her mind was the last and only thought taking over before control was an inconceivable sentiment.

Ellie’s hands were clenched into fists while she crouched low to her knees. A long wailing cry of despair pierced through the night sky until there was no longer any air left in her lungs. Until her vocal cords felt sore. Ellie’s chilling and stuttering breath was visible in front of her very eyes. A savage emotion lit up in those orbs when her breathing returned back to normal.

However, her lungs were still scorching ceaselessly.

“What was that?” Bruce’s cowl was still covering his face when he energetically jumped out of the Batmobile. His hardened jaw was the only thing she saw underneath that mask. His partial expression stood in frightening contrast when he walked briskly into the lair.

Ellie was still sitting behind the Batcomputer while her absentminded eyes followed Alfred helping a bruised Damian step out of the vehicle. There was a twinge in her chest just looking at him.

“There was another hacker tonight,” Ellie revealed numbly, just recalling that unexpected invasion hurt her pride enough. Something in Bruce’s eyes stood out to her. Ellie’s expression turned shocked. “You don’t believe me? I intended to initiate a lockdown and not a power outage. I meant to keep everyone contained. Not only that, but I mean, we still got Harley Quinn.”

“That’s all we got.” Bruce’s chest rumbled with emotion as another failure hit him. “We’ve got no guarantee that Joker is going to come after her again just for the fun of it.”

Alfred and Tim flanked Damian’s side when the older brother sent a silent but concerned glance towards him.

“You good?” Tim asked him with a low whisper and tilted his head in doing so.

A question to which Damian merely nodded briskly, without uttering a single word to display what he was currently feeling. The bruises on his forehead and cheek were starting to darken. Ellie believed there was more to the mask Damian was shielding behind to cover up the vulnerability, he would under no circumstances put on display.

Damian spoke up for the first time, “What’s done is done. We need to think about another strategy and regroup.”

A feeling of gratefulness hit her instantly that this kid was trying to alleviate budding tension which soon shifted into regret once her inquiring gaze lingered on the consequences of tonight. The Joker got him good—Ellie was honestly surprised how Damian was still standing upright.

Her eyes wandered back to Bruce again, worried about the effects the Joker left behind on all of them. “Do you want to talk about what just happened?”

“You mean that Damian sustained grave trauma or that I hesitated when Joker hung over the ledge?”

Ellie’s body winced at Bruce’s frankness that bordered on scathing. “He was trying to push you over the edge and there was a part of you that at least considered it.”

His eyes narrowed as his arms crossed over his chest, getting ready to push back. “You want to talk about my misgivings, that’s fine, but don’t forget that you let someone else get the better of you.”

Ellie’s features turned to stone when Bruce managed to hit the one spot she was still sore about. She was the only one who could put herself down due to her struck pride. Mortification heated up in her belly as the fight for control was hard enough, but she barely reined it in.

Alfred chose this moment to tame any more tension-filled conversations. “If I may say, I believe we all need to take a breather and get a good night’s sleep.”

Ellie could feel Bruce’s heavy stare on her while he was mutely just looking at her without saying anything.

“You’re probably right,” Bruce replied, sending the older man a brief glance before he walked off without another word.

Exhaling heavily, Ellie stared after him with unsaid emotions as her back sagged in her seat. She let a strained smile draw on her lips when her eyes met Damian’s again. “Let’s get you patched up, huh?”

The youngest Wayne child was escorted a floor below to the med bay. For the first time, his features twisted into a pained grimace once he was lying down on the operating table.

Wordlessly, Ellie’s eyes studied his injuries, and the young woman could feel her heart tear into pieces.

This was just so unfair.

Her inner upheaval must’ve shown on her expression when Damian’s chocolate-brown eyes met hers. The first droplets of sweat gathered above his eyebrows.

“I’ll survive,” he whispered with a tense voice, already understanding the inner thoughts she was stuck with.

And the tears were back in her eyes.

She forced a comforting smile on her face as much as it pained her to muster it up and nodded. Iron resolve settled in her bones the longer Ellie gazed at him. Damian might see himself as utterly wicked, but to her the young one was an innocent child who didn’t deserve this kind of pain. Only because of a man who wanted to corrupt the people around him.

Ellie ground her teeth as her decision was made final.

No more.

A/N: The following code names were in the run: Overlord, Nemesis, Corvus, Zero-Day and Grey Hat. To be honest, I wanted the alias to sound dope and have a profound meaning at the same time. Overlord would've been only cool because of the Led Zeppelin reference, lol.

Small trivia about Aether: he embodies the pure upper air that the gods breathe, as opposed to the normal air breathed by mortals. I chose Aether because Ellie's literally the eye in the sky, and I didn't want to steal "Watchtower" from Smallville.

Tagging:@mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @alwayshave-faith @ikranfuad @daydreaming-gemini @bluegalaxyprime @liadamerondjarin @steph21369 @andrewswifes-blog @yanna-banana @blackmagicwoman

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spectres-fulcrum · 2 years

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The more I think about it, the more I re-read Of MSE-6 and Men the more I go back to this line for a lot of reasons. I mean, it was my favorite line from the get go but it's still, to some degree, the only characterization that I will die on the hill of(That and TK-421 enters the affair to use Tarkin's affection for his own gain).

I love this line. We all know Tarkin's icy shell, and we all know men like Tarkin have to. There's a line in the Tarkin novel, where the base he's in charge of is having comm issues during a tense situation and the comm specialist jokes that it's raining(It's a inside joke for those at the base) and the others laughs and even Tarkin grins along with his men(and women!) despite the situation. Like as a moff, he doesn't have to be AS icy. But by 0 BBY, he commands the Death Star. He's a Grand Moff. Icy is required.

But then this stormtrooper comes along and he finds he can just drop it all. Be just Wilhuff for just a night, or just a few hours, however long TK-421 can escape the maintaince sector. It's so odd to imagine he's... Human and talks about silly stuff but he really is just human and at some point, work is done for the day. And it's like, who is this person, really, that makes the walls drop.

And 421 is changing too, he taking in this new info and telling his droid and he’s… trying to find the right word. And decides on sweet. And goodness knows this wasn’t supposed to be sweet, but here he is, testing it like he’s trying on clothes(thanks for the metaphor Taylor Swift!) and it fits. He’s quick to move on to how they’ll benefit, but he still gives the word it’s space. This weird joy. And he probably didn’t expect to be told that he’s the only one Tarkin-Wilhuff- can be himself with. If he even knows who he is underneath it all. If 421 knows himself after years of being a stormtrooper, but the idea of having a partner who pulls those lines if certainly a luxury for a stormtrooper. If he’s not careful, this won’t be just a plot anymore.

It's frustrating, though, because you know that Tarkin wouldn't let them drop easily even for a pretty face. And TK-421 suggest they've done it enough that sometimes the walls drop after sex, sometimes during. It suggests this is a longer affair. At least a couple months. To get comfortable enough to start talking about silly things, for 421 to stick around after sex, and then for the pattern to start drifting so they were comfortable getting silly during the act. Like that seems really comfortable.

But the start of the story has Leia already on the Death Star. Like there's really only a 72 hour window for the entire story and it makes absolutely no sense since it's implied G7 spent two of the days shut down in Tarkin's quarters while his holo recorder was offline.

Like there's no way that quote can exist solely between the escape pod jettison and the Falcon landing on the Death Star(a minute after the quote we find out the Falcon has been pulled in via tractor beam. 421 never speaks to his droid or his lover again).

Which is why I say screw Rogue One canon and make the affair last 8 months. Enough time for their relationship to grow before each step, and this quote is more fitting for month 3 or 4 but it’s funner to take things further and to take Tarkin away on business for a month and for Sev to realize empty things feel even if life is back to “normal.” Enough time to explore them as people(note: Lasan nightmare idea) and their dynamic changing as they navigate time and humanity despite the difference in ranks and the future they’ll never reach. Honestly, one of their favorite things are the familiarity and the same person through all those months,learning someone else life through stories and catching up with it weekly-then daily.

Tarkin ends his life in love. Sev isn’t in love in love(sex, however, is still very much wanted), but he loves him very dearly and longs for his companionship for the rest of his life. And he would’ve been very content. They’d be a rarity in the Imperial Court for a multitude of reasons, not just because Sev races a mouse droid on the circuits but because they genuinely are life companions. There’s nothing about status between them.

But alas not in this universe.

#wilhuff tarkin #tk-421 #musings #idk how rogue one changes with tarkin being in charge much earlier #anyone want some of my tk421 headcanons #of mse-6 and men

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smash-chu · 1 year

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Been busy working through comms so I don't have much new art to share yet, but you may have some writing!

(and me reblogging some art from before, because i forget that's something people do sometimes)

Wanna know how Marimoos first encounters were with her old gang? Well have fun reading the stuff below to find out~

How Did You Even Meet

The light gently glimmered through the partially boarded up window high above. Muffled voices could be heard from within, sometimes piping up loudly, it sounded so inviting. Climbing up the awfully large amount of boxes and crates which littered this alley, the halfling was drawn to see what all the fuzz was about inside. Barely being able to peek inside, she could make out the shapes of a bunch of people sitting by a table in a lit room, seemingly playing some kind of card game together. By the doorway from the rest staring out into the room, caught in thought, was another figure. She couldn’t help but keep on looking in, listening to the gang playfully banter with each other as they kept on playing their lil game. It felt so sincere, it was hard to look away. Looking back over at the figure not playing she was struck with surprise as the two had locked eyes with each other, the tabaxi staring coldly back. Caught off guard she pulled away from the window and frantically tried to find a spot among the crates to hide.

“It would seem we have someone skulking around outside. Go check it out, will you?” the tabaxi nodded at the tiefling sitting awkwardly by the table without a chair. Without even asking she got up and went out. “By the crates at the window, if they haven’t ran.” added the tabaxi as the tiefling passed him by the doorway.

Even as it was dark out the tiefling did not have any hesitation looking about the boxes, some having fallen over and one lying partially open with a fuzzy tipped tail poking out from it. Not being able to help but chuckle the tiefling yanked the scared halfling out by the tail, holding her up like a fish just caught on the line. Shaking and starting to struggle the halfling bare her teeth “Let go of me! You… big rude thing!”. Not bothering to listen to the small one’s various demands and threats the tiefling simply took her with her back into the building, holding up the little struggler for all the rest to see. “Here’s the lil skulker that was at the window”.

“If you don’t drop me I’ll bite all your stupid fingers off! Let go!” she did not stop to try and get some kind of hold or grip, to no avail. The two goblin like figures just giggled to themselves, while the draconic human just stared like a owner staring at their cat presenting a rat they had just caught. The bugbear was still just looking over their cards, half asleep. Wandering up to observe the catch closer the tabaxi narrowed his eyes, the tiefling unenthusiastically quipping “This runt was out in the boxes, real feisty, what do we do with them? Toss em in the canal?”. Grabbing onto the halflings face with one paw, the tabaxi forced her view to meet his, as she went quiet.

“You have moxie, intriguing. Say, what do you do?” he asked while still gripping her face “Would you want something to do?”.

Unsure what in the world he was trying to get at, the halfling just looked at the hairless tabaxi “...Are you… trying to ask if I want a job?”.

He scoffed “A occupation, a life, something that isn’t skulking around outside without purpose, but if you want to call that a job then you can”. The rest of the gang simply looked in slight confusion about their boss offering this runt of all things a position among them.

“You can’t be for real Shallow, this little thing? She was hiding in a crate, what could a whelp like this offer?” the tiefling sneered, poking the dangling halfling so she’d swing back and forth.

“That’s not your business who I consider as potential, Bruiser, judge if it proves fruitless.” the tabaxi retorted, putting his paw out to stop the swinging. “What do you say? Would you take the offer, or go back to peeking through windows in desire for what is inside that isn’t yours?” he stared at the halfling who felt that this was odd, but she was in no position to decline.

“I- I do? Will they let go of me if I agree?” she glanced over at Bruiser with a glare.

“Yes, of course, let the girl go.” Shallow ordered as the tiefling casually released her grip and let the halfling fall to the floor with a thud. “So it’s a yes then?” he asked once more.

“Yes.” she responded as she got herself back up on her feet.

“Good. I am Shallow, the rest can introduce themselves when they see fit. You are known as?” he held out a paw as if to shake her hand.

“Call me Marimoo.” she took his paw, feeling an awful sting as his claws had sunk into the skin on her hand.

“Welcome then, Marimoo, to the Couriers.” he calmly released her hand as blood had started to spill on his claws, pressing the blood on a scroll which he had pulled from his bag without warning. “I suggest making yourself acquainted with your new companions, for now I shall retire, paperwork does not write itself.” he patted her lightly on the shoulder before leaving down the corridor, Bruiser following along. The two could be heard conversing about what just had happened, the tiefling seemingly weirded out by letting in such a runt with no show for what they can do. Standing by awkwardly with the remaining folks, Marimoo sorta let them take the lead, even if at first they could only but complain about Bruiser not being there so they couldn’t finish their game. But eventually they got themselves introduced, Marimoo getting to know the people she'd spend her next years closely with.

---

"So, what things are you capable of? Good at?" Shallow asked Marimoo who had to think for a moment.

"Umm. I know how to take things? And I can sing. That's kinda.. it.". She sat nervously as the tabaxi dutifully was noting it all down, pulling out another separate sheet of paper which looked like an application of sorts.

"So you can sing, let's hone that, I know a quiet enough college that can do that for you. For now, observe and listen to me, it is crucial you learn my word, is that clear?" he stood up from his seat, looking over Marimoo who nodded.

"Say it." he ordered.

"Yes..!" she answered.

A small pleased smile crept across Shallow's face, as he stuffed his papers back into his pack, clearing the table. "Excellent. First thing to learn; Obedience over ambition. Do as you're told, not what you think. That is key." he started to walk out of the room "Follow.". Marimoo haphazardly got up from her chair and quickly followed with.

Leading her down over to the training room, an open space with a few dummies, targets and plenty of marks of combat, the two were met with Bruiser who was sitting in the room by herself. Her axe lying next to her, the tiefling only gave an acknowledging nod towards Shallow as he stopped by the doorway, gesturing inside. "You may not know how to fight properly just yet, but you will learn fast, the moxie you showed earlier will carry you." he wandered into the room, picking up a rapier from one of the racks, tossing it to Marimoo. "Training starts now. Show me what you know and we'll learn what you need to improve." brandishing his own blade, Marimoo nervously walked up holding the rapier awkwardly, never having used such a weapon before.

Marimoo stood little chance against a much more experienced fencer such as Shallow, in the back Bruiser was entertained by how the little halfling was trying to keep up against the odds.

Seeing she was more than worn, Shallow sheathed his blade, calling the training off for now. Marimoo tried to catch her breath, letting herself fall to her knees, the rapier clanging gently on the floor. Giving her a small pat on the shoulder, Shallow wandered off from the room "You have ways to go, preserve that tenacity and you will get there." his words echoed from the doorway as he left. Still out of breath, Marimoo just kept sitting there for a bit. Slightly startled by the shadow which was looming over her as Bruiser had approached, who put her hand down and ruffled the little halfling roughly.

"Heh, you know, you're pretty brave for a runt." she said with a playful grin on her face "Even the twins refused to fight the 'big' man their first time, but you didn't even question it, takes guts when you don't even know how to handle the weapon you held.".

Marimoo wasn't sure how to respond, just muttering "Thanks." as the tiefling finally stopped her ruffling. Picking her up like you would with a small puppy, Bruiser patted the exhausted halfling as gently as a brute could, walking out of the training room for the day.

---

"You ran from your parents?" asked Rok, "That's pretty cool." Tok quickly followed with. Getting slowly acquainted with everyone, Marimoo found herself in the twins' workshop, sharing her story with the two half gnome- half orcs. "And now you're here." "With us!" the twins seamlessly spoke in flow with each other, something Marimoo hadn't yet gotten used to.

"Yeah. So you two.. make things?" Marimoo curiously looked around at the many strange contraptions littering the room and shelves.

"Oh you bet!" "We make lots of things!" "Like traps!" "It's mostly traps." the two of them chattered gleefully together. "...Do you make anything?" "Yeah Moo Moo, do you make stuff?" looking at Tok with a furled brow, she seemed to not take keenly to the sudden nickname.

"Not really. And don't call me 'Moo Moo', please.".

The two tinkerers looked at each other "Nope, we're gonna keep doing it, that's too good a' name to chuck." "Yupp, too good." nodding at each other in agreement.

Marimoo just crossed her arms and sighed. "You two are gonna be pieces of work, aren't you.." she muttered quietly to herself, as the twins just kept on giggling.

---

"I can tell you were 'home-schooled' in the loosest term of the word.." Alumin looked over at Marimoo writing in her notebook, as she glanced back up at the curious human.

"No time for school when always on the road." Marimoo responded trying not to feel ashamed over her poor writing.

"Of course of course, perhaps there's still time to learn" the draconic human sipped on her beverage, taking a seat at the other side of the table "Maybe if you're lucky I could teach you.".

Lightening up "You could?" she curiously asked in response.

"Maybe. Depends on if I feel like it." The two just quietly sat for a while, Alumin finishing her drink and Marimoo feeling too bad to want to continue writing with Alumin still in the room.

Getting restless, the draconic sorcerer got up, giving Marimoo a gentle smile as she left her to it. In her mind she promised she'd get better, no matter if Alumin would help or not. If she did, maybe she'd get more respect from the strongly honest sorcerer.

---

Marimoo just sat and looked at the half asleep bugbear who was occupying the corner of the main wreck room, who didn't even look back at her, zoned out staring off into nothing. "I've yet to catch your name, what is it?" she tried to catch their attention.

"...Huh? Your name? Oh.. My name." the bugbear scratched the side of their fuzzy head.

"Yes, what is your name?" Marimoo confirmed.

"...It's Chestnut." they answered followed by a loud yawn "Like the color. That's what everyone calls me.".

Cocking her head to the side slightly confused "Everyone calls you? Is it not actually your name?". A moment of silence passed as Chestnut just zoned out fully thinking about the question, while Marimoo patiently remained quiet to let them think.

"...I don't know. But that's what everyone here calls me. So… It's my name. I guess." they leaned back and made themselves comfy again. "I'm… gonna nap." they sleepily pat their furry tummy "...Join me if you want.. It's good to nap..". Marimoo stood up to consider the offer, and shrugged to herself, carefully climbing up and lying down on the warm and fuzzy bugbear. Before drifting off Chestnut slowly stroked the little halfling, happy to get some company for once.

---

"Don't you have anyone else to follow around?!" Bruiser growled at Marimoo who took a step back, having been at the tieflings heels the whole day. "I know Shallow put me in charge of your training, but you don't have to trail me like some kind of lost duckling all damn day." she sneered at the halfling who shyly looked back up at her, though her frustration shortly faded.

"...Listen. I'm not used to having someone actively wanting to be around me as much as you are, it's fucking weird, but I don't really have reason to stop you." she paused "Just, walk where I can see you. Or something. Don't be directly behind me.".

Marimoo nodded "I'll walk by your side.".

Bruiser evaluated as Marimoo shifted over to being at the barbarian's right side, grumbling to herself "Not even that would do, so damn small, so hard to see…".

"You know what, if you're just gonna follow me anyways, let's do this instead." she said while picking a slightly concerned Marimoo up, perching her on her left shoulder. The concern turned to being pleasantly star-struck, what an honor, how very kind, now this is more than acceptable. "Now I won't accidentally step on you or whack you, out of my way, good for us both."

Bruiser looked pleased with herself, as did Marimoo "...Yeah!".

---

Ey you made it to the end, cool beans :3

#text #smash-chu talks #my writing #my art #marimoo #my characters #i have a lot more writing just sitting around but i mostly just share it with the dnd squad #but hey maybe others might find it interesting too who knows #anyways time to reblog some of me stuff

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lamatisse · 2 years

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ello<3 sorry if this is too personal, but do you work outside of playing the sims? what are you other hobbies, how else do you spend your time :) just wanting to do a little getting to know lol

am babie....why do u want to know about me.....(*ﾉ▽ﾉ)

i dont work at all currently, but i'm a full-time uni graphic design student (on my last school year 🙏)!! most of my hobbies are pretty much all art-related!! like music, i play the guitar n ukulele sometimes i like to sing, making covers n shit lol then i guess i like film & photography stuff too, such as making cute lil videos with my friends and editing them etc

i love both traditional and digital art, mostly digital after i got an ipad! i wanted to grow more as an artist, so i got to do twitch layout/assets commissions for my dear friend andie (actually @nymfaes), youtube assets for my lovely friend jennie (actually @caelhinn) and then for some other people too! you can check them out from their profiles but here’s my art/portfolio on carrd and here's my art twt: @gianneart! (≧◡≦) BUT they're outdated tho since i stopped for a while being busy with uni all and FRUSTRATION WITH MY ART ;-;

i want to do more art comms in the future as well as like sell pre-made twitch stuff on etsy probably! rn im just a really frustrated artist dfjkghdfjg i also used to run like a studyblr / bulletjournal blog & yt channel, and ive been wanting to resurrect that in a while bc working on a journal is so fun, but ya i do that sometimes!

and apart from all that i love video games! esp after i built my pc last year and getting a switch!! (the only game i grew up with is rly just the sims franchise tho...) and ya genshin impact!!! my life kinda revolving around that game rn jk djkhdfsdf recently got into mechanical keyboards too!!

for films and shows i love loVE christopher nolan movies I COULD TALK ABT IT FOR HOURS FHKDGFHG n i’m currently trying to get into anime (i started with attack on titan! but i cant consume aot content anymore bc it makes me terribly sad FOR REAL)

so ya...im mostly at my desk, working on all that owo that’s pretty much it, im sorry if i went on too much fkdjghf

#(*/ω＼)#asks #Anon #lovelypeople

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seldomscilence16 · 2 years

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Whumptober day 4: Dead on Your Feet

Fandom: Voltron

Prompts;

Hidden injury

Waking up disoriented

Cant pass out

This one could be considered more graphic as it revolves around an injury, Id also like to warn about ooc because its been a minute and I havent... actually finished the series yet cause Im not prepared... as is the story of my life.

Lance doesnt think this is what his family wanted for him.

Another bullet lands home, ripping through a chest and exploding in a glorious combination of holy water and silver. It leaves a gory mess behind, but its effective for many species.

Honestly he didnt expect to end up here, at least not so soon, with these people, and such a large threat hanging the balance of the world on their shoulders.

Six months ago, Lance had been at school, doing normal teenage things. Thinking of home many miles away in Cuba, and wondering if that missing person report was a normal one or not.

It was still a couple years before he'd be allowed to do any solo hunts (above a certain level), but he still liked to keep track of things to learn and stuff. Its what his sister would do, and if he was gonna live up to their legacy, he should learn from the best. He wanted to do his part, to join the family business, but he understood his mothers hesitance.

So its just his luck, that an Angel ruins his plans. His and four others that is, some mumbo jumbo prophecy that had them being hunted down and forced into hiding, Lances student visa was definetly expired.

For six months they've been off the grid. Doing hunts his mother would have never approved of, and becoming a team Lance never would have imagined he'd be on. He still wonders if the prophecy is wrong about him, if hes put his family through all this for nothing, but then he saves someone... being able to protect people, its more than he could ever ask for.

Keith slices off another head, Shiro is incinerating left and right, Pidge is exorcising the owner, and Hunks providing cover for her. Even with several types of creatures, this hunt isn't one of their more difficult ones, in fact... its been surprisingly easy...

He twists in his snipers nest, but the creature is already on top of him, voices shout in his comm but he can barely hear them as he grapples and strains to keep teeth from his jugular. He just manages to get his pistol out when something flashes out of the corner of his eye, he tries to roll them, to get on top, manages to get his gun between them-

POPOP

"LANCE! Respond!"

He swallows thickly, kicking the creature off and rolling back to his spot, he snipes two more that had tried to take advantage of Shiros distraction,

"I'm here."

"What happened!? You good?"

"...Yeah, no worries im fine."

His face is stuck in a grimance, he tries to blame it on the stench, puts all his focus in making his shots as quickly as possible to get this done with. They were almost finished anyway, it thankfully doesnt take much longer. Pidge completes the exorcism, the last of the creatures are felled, and Allura is seemingly satisfied. She makes a short comment on Lances mishap, one he barely hears since its nothing new, but wilts under anyway.

They split up from here, as a group causes more looks, they'll meet up at their newest hideout. Lance will need to clean up first, covered in blood as he is, Lance hopes the extra time will allow him to get a grip. It was his mistake, he can deal with it.

"Dont take too long Lance, we'll need to get out of here pretty quick." Pidge calls, the first to leave.

"You sure youre okay man?" Hunk gives him another once over, nervous energy taking over now that the mission is complete.

"You know me, dont worry so much hermano."

Hunk mutter under his breath but pats his shoulder and take his exit as well.

"Good work out there Lance." Shiro nods at both Lance and Keith before taking the other exit.

Lance crosses his arms now, side twinging, but he ignores it in favor of trying to catch his breath. Keith scrutinizes him, lips pulled into a deep frown as he throws his duffel over his shoulder.

"You didnt get bit right?"

Lance regards him with an unimpressed look,

"Despite popular belief, I am not stupid enough to hide a bite."

"I never said you were stupid!" Keith defends, growling a bit, "we're just worried. See you at base." And he stalks off with a huff.

Only when he dissapears does Lance lift his shirt. Still oozing blood, his stab wound looks anything from pretty. But he could handle it, his mistake, his clean up. He takes his leave.

He'd never really been one to regard the cielings of truckstop showers. At least, it didnt sound like a normal thing to do. And this was a nice truckstop, walled shower stalls and nice doors that offered privacy, the cieling could use some work, and the floor wasnt nearly as comfortable as it could be, but that was probably a good thing.

Now, why he was in a truck stop shower, and where he was locationally were other questions all together. Really the only reason he'd need to be at a truck stop....

He wondered if they had milk here, he could go for some enchiladas. No wait, he wanted... where were his clothes? Why was he wet? Didnt he have something to do?

That ceiling could use some work.

The swirly designs on the walls were nice, and the squares! Wow magic swirls that turn into squares, this place was- oh! That looked like his bag! What was that doing here?

Why was he naked?

That was quite a sidewalk. It got closer to his feet every time he took a step, it had him stumbling but he could appreciate modern inventions.

Oo and the sky is so blue, and sparkly, much better than the dumpster across from him. And this darn sidewalk, his tailbone did not appreciate modern inventions.

Dumpsters. What a weird word; dump. Sters. Does the Dump stir stuff? That sounds exhausting.

Oh! That puddle looks like the ocean! Only its red, but maybe the coral is just extra reflective today, cause thats definetly how it works. Shut up Rachel.

"LANCE! Oh my Gods.... just hang on buddy, come on hermano look at me!"

Why does his head feel so heavy?

"Pidge! Call, anyone! Just hurry! Lance, stay with me!"

He knew that face! Such a pretty face, he helped Lance with his math homework, Lance only needed the one question but he was so nice Lance couldnt tell him he was fine... oh! Thats what he forgot!

"'M fine."

He was supposed to be okay cause he made a mistake, crap he was supposed to fix it!

"Shhh, its okay bud, we'll fix you right up, you'll be okay."

"We gotta get him out of here Hunk. Keep him awake."

And there goes the world, and any food he mighta had in him.

"Quiznak! Hurry it up, hes losing too much blood!"

"Stay awake! Lance stay aw-"

"I knew he looked bad. I should have stayed with him."

"I should have checked on him immediately, he was radio silent for too long."

"He was watching your backs... I shouldnt have yelled at him for getting snuck up on. Watching six backs is hard enough."

"Dios mio, I'm not dead." Though he sounds like a croak for sure.

"Lance! How do you feel?? Do you need water??? Are you comfortable?????"

"Give him some space Hunk!"

Lance scans the faces around him, before falling back on Hunk, he vaguely remembered being in his arms.

"What happened?"

"You passed out in my arms and gave me a heart attack after I told you to stay awake, thats what happened!" Hunk is crying at this point and Lance blanches at the thought.

He reaches a hand out quickly, to offer any comfort he can since the rest of his body fails to quaporate. Hunk takes the hand though, so he'll take it as a win.

"You got stabbed... during the hunt. Do you remember that?" Shiro asks carefully.

"Oh... right. Im sorry, I know I should have been more careful."

"No, we're sorry for not making sure you were okay. You got attacked and still had our backs, thats impressive, but I would much preffer to know youre injured Lance."

He stares at him a moment, trying to compute the statement.

"But... I made a mistake. Im supposed to make sure to fix the mistake so it doesnt happen again."

"As your team, we should be supporting eachother. And that means, ensuring everyone is safe after a mission and makes it home." Allura finally steps forward, and Lance is alarmed to find tear tracks on the Angels cheeks.

"We'll do better next time. We never want you or anyone, hiding an injury again okay?"

Everyone seems very ernest about this, and Lance has a hard time denying them as it is.

"...Alright... I'll be more careful next time though I promise."

"And we'll find a way to have your back while you have ours."

#whumptober2022 #no.4 #hidden injury #voltron #fic #blood #gore #supernatural #stabbed #angst #guns #swords #minors in dangerous situations #voltron supernatural au #hopeful ending #near death

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