I crave your brilliant writing, Stumpy. How about #14 for the Things You Said prompt, "...when I wasn't meant to hear." ' v '
Very much inspired by your art and writing! My brain fully derailed on the tone but I love the Gammas and I bet they will have issues adjusting to the SoF and letting their walls down while they lick their wounds. I did crack open D*vine Wind again and that was a mistake so apologies for the tone.
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Being a Spartan, an alive one, meant having near perfect situational awareness. It was beaten into you at a young age. Like a lot of other things.
You and your siblings were the last of your unit. Your pack, your family after the one that borne you died in fire and plasma, were clinging to life by the skin of your teeth.
You looked out for each other. You learned from your elders. And you always knew where the exits were and who held the keys. You and your siblings watched the docs and nurses and orderlies. You watched your mom sleep heavily under the drugs keeping her from feeling the skull fracture. You watched the IIs with open curiosity - how could they be so similar and different from Blue Team. You all knew it was time, but seeing it in person was strange. They were rough around the edges, eerily similar to you and your siblings, not fully tempered like Blue Team. Not yet.
You heal fast. The doctors whisper. You try their synthesized smoothers, under observation, and feel the world slip into focus a little more with every adjusted dose. You feel their eyes on you. You hear their fascination muddled by fear and discomfort. They're not a green crew but they only had 3 Spartans before and now they have 6.
And you're not like other Spartans. Not even like the rest of your generation. Gammas were something else. IIIs aren't as polite as IIs, there wasn't time in the suicide trainings for manners or etiquette or scholarly discussions.
Your team has specialists in stealth and information so it's only a matter of time before you heard it all. Gross devaluation of human life, ethics violations, just kids with scarred tissue aged at least a decade. Ticking time bombs, drain on resources, maybe not in so many words but hearing what they didn't mean to say, reading between the lines, knowing who on staff would break first was important to keep them alive. None of them were in top fighting form.
But not for long.
Still when you are welcome and abhorred by the same doctors that had one of your own under observation you had to play it safe.
The fighting was never done. Playing for time and breathing room was standard operating procedure at this point. ONI had made them see enemies in allies and vice versa.
All they could do now was wait. Time would iron out the rest of the details.
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Tim, [pointing his staff at the human traffickers]: YOU ARE OUTGUNNED
Jason, [hyping him up]: WHAT?
Tim: OUTMANNED!
Jason: WHAT?!
Tim: OUTNUMBERED OUTPLANNED
Jason: PAY YOUR FUCKING TAXES!
Tim: PUT YOUR GUNS DOWN ON MY COMMAND
Jason: HAND EM OVER!!
Tim: THIS IS HAMILTON MY RIGHT HAND MAN!
Jason, [getting his guns out]: PWO PWO PWO PWO PWO-
Goons: *shaking* what the FUCK are Batman feeding his partners--
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Prompt 134
One of the young justice members is complaining about how their parents or mentors benched them after getting injured.
And Marvel snorting and saying that that reminds him of Phantom. And of course, the YJ crew, ask who that is.
“Oh Phantoms my big brother, pops never really understood our human halves or limits so…” and he just shrugs like he didn’t just drop Lore. And the teens smell blood in the water, they want to know more.
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If there is not a scene in S3 where Crowley has his flat back and Aziraphale pops in, sees this statue (the one with the demon pinning the angel down—all erotic like) and comments about them “wrestling” and Crowley in his sly deeper slow register says “ooooh and what makes you think what they are doing is wrestling, ANGEL?” Then what is the point????
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