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bogusboxed · 2 years

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Boxtober - Day 20: “Headcanons For Cuddling The Proxies.”

Day 20:

-Proxies (+ Clockwork!) X GN!Reader

“There’s only us.” x “Falling Asleep Together”

-I do not own any of these characters and do not take credit for them.

Brian

---

-If we’re talking post-Brian after Marble Hornets, it isn’t a common thing that happens between the two of you, but when it does, it's very special to him.

-He may not show it, but he enjoys cuddling with you a lot. This is because he likes to ensure you're safe and also since he doesn’t get breaks from his missions often.

-If you're typically a sleepy person and you decide to sleep on his shoulder, he won’t wake you up. He’ll probably just let you snooze until he has something to go take care of. But if you're on a mission with him, expect to be woken up or expect something random to happen.

-He also likes to lend you his hoodie as a blanket because he finds it cute.

-His favorite part of cuddling would be when you fall asleep. It warms his heart to see you completely tranquil around him, even when he could snap you like a twig.

-One time you fell asleep on a mission with him, and he just left you there in the middle of the forest.

Tim

---

-This is extremely rare, even more, rare than Brian. This goes for pre and post, but mostly for post-marble hornets.

-Tim isn’t the type to cuddle up to you, especially in the early stages of your relationship.

-But you'll find one day, maybe during a movie or show, you're cuddled up to him and he seems into it. And eventually, it leads to cuddling.

-Tim is the best at cuddling, which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense due to him not being into physical touch. But, he still manages to be the best at it.

-Expect to be scented like coffee and cigarettes by the end because it's Tim and there's no way he won't try to smoke. Unless you say otherwise, but, yet again, you can't stop him if you're asleep. But he won't do it if you can't handle it or if you're awake staring him down.

-If you were to fall asleep on him, he’d probably wake you up and put you to bed. Or he would try and slowly make his way out of the situation. Then, put a blanket on you and call it a day.

-Though if you fall asleep on him during a mission. He’ll wake you up, but it doesn't mean he’s not incredibly concerned about why you're so tired. And will insist you go to bed in his truck after the mission. Also, he’ll probably give you his flannel as a blanket.

-He’s got a lot of personal problems, so it just takes a lot out of him to try. He is, however, willing to try for you.

-He’ll never admit to it, but, after a while, he finds himself enjoying the physical touch, specifically after a long stressful mission.

Toby

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-You had plans in the morning? Too bad, because you're stuck with him until he gets a random burst of energy to get up.

-This man is not going to let you go anywhere if he wants to hold you or you to hold him. And it's not him verbally telling you to stay, it's just him having an iron grip on you, making it impossible to escape.

-He typically likes physical touch constantly and enjoys cuddling daily. However, sometimes he can get grouchy and push you away for a little while. But, try not to worry too much because he’ll be back soon.

-If you fall asleep on this man during a mission, he will be extremely fidgety and may wake you up by accident. But don’t worry, he’ll make up for your lack of sleep later with a good amount of cuddling.

-A bad side to this would be that if you were to deny him of his physical affection, he’d probably ignore you for an hour. Depending on your mood, this could be a good or bad thing.

-Also it would be extremely rare to be lent this man’s hoodie due to the fact he never takes it off other than when it has to be washed. So, if he gives it to you, make sure to thank him and use it.

-After a long, harsh mission, expect him to be even more clingy than he typically is. It’s mostly because he misses you and just wants your attention.

Kate The Chaser

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-How did you manage to get her to cuddle with you?-

-She’s constantly on the move and can’t stay in one place for very long. But, if you can manage to get her to cuddle with you, it’s very sweet and heartwarming. The cuddling normally involves her hands against your arms and whispering sweet nothings to you to try and coax you to sleep.

-Though physical affection may not be her favorite thing it doesn’t mean she will deny you of it. Because she loves you too much to not give in to your pleas for a cuddle.

-Her favorite thing about cuddling with you is the times she gets to fall asleep with her chin on the top of your head. It makes her feel safe and on top of everything.

-If she gets paranoia, expect her grip on you to increase. She’ll use you to ground herself if things start to go haywire for her.

-If you fall asleep on her during a mission, she won’t mind at all and will let you sleep, unlike the others. She’ll even leave you with her hoodie if it makes you sleep any better. She knows that the operator pushes all of you, so she doesn’t mind giving you a break. And by the time you wake up, the entire mission is already over with and she’s carrying you back in bridal style.

-She doesn’t mind doing any lovey-dovey stuff in front of any of the other creeps. And won’t mind if you start snuggling up to her randomly. But do expect her to return the favor.

Clockwork

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-Oh boy.

-She loves cuddling with you whenever you let her, and she’ll typically spoon you unless you want it the other way. And if you can manage to spoon her, she loves it when you play with her hair.

-She also tends to prefer physical contact over other things and loves to see you wear her jacket. It's one of the best things for her. She just loves seeing you rock her staple outfit and sees it as a necessary thing for your relationship.

-Unlike most of the people on this list, she will show you she loves you and her cuddling by straight-up telling you. She will praise you constantly for cuddling with her and, in all honesty, just wants to smother you in her love.

-And if you fall asleep on her during a mission, she’ll probably fall asleep with you. So if you want a mission to go smoothly, try your best not to fall asleep, or else you are going to have to deal with the operator.

-She flexes the fact you and she are together to a plethora of other creeps to the point you’ve had people you’ve never met before come up to you. And if you want her to stop, just tell her. It wouldn’t stop it completely, but it'd stop a good portion of it.

-Though if someone makes fun of you, expect to stop a fight. To her, it's onsight to whoever dares mess with her partner. She will not hesitate to beat a bitch up.

[A/N -

Today had been absolutely horrendous and I am holding on by a string so, take some HC's in the mean time!!! <333

Sorry for the shorter post like I said today has not been my day and I feel like total crap. I wasn't even planning on posting today but, I gotta keep up that streak so, please forgive me!! <333

love you guys!!! ]

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blackrosesandwhump · 1 month

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March of Pain Day 20: Addiction

Also, @amonthofwhump Cover Identity.

CW: vampire whumpee, blood mention

Though swathed from head to foot against the deadly sun, the assassin could still feel its heat, pressing in on him through his mask. A single misstep, a single inch of uncovered skin, would expose him and his true identity.

It’s better this way, he thought, sprinting on silent feet down a mercifully shaded alley. And, of course, if he played his cards right, he always had a convenient meal.

A corrupt noble, that was his target today. Nothing out of the ordinary. Barely even a challenge. Which was good, because it meant less effort on his part to satisfy his craving. His addiction. That’s what it really was, uncontrollable and insatiable. Inescapable.

Ironic for someone who could escape from anything.

He paused in the shadow of a large building, just across the square from the noble’s house. Should he wait until sundown, until he could do his job without the sun’s threat? No. It couldn’t wait. His hunger couldn’t wait.

One of these days that hunger would betray him. He could sense it, deep down in the part of him that still retained a shred of humanity.

Blood would be his undoing.

@marchofpain

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just-here-with-my-thoughts · 6 days

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Welcome To The Outpost: Part 2.2 - Broken

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: CT-9904 Crosshair, Clone Commander Mayday, Lieutenant Nolan Word Count: ~3230 Read Here on AO3

Synopsis: Mayday might have lost his squad, but a new mission – and a new companion – gives him focus. After all, Crosshair doesn’t know how to survive out here.

Read Part 1.1 - Frozen Read Part 1.2 - Rise From The Ashes Read Part 1.3 - Lost Battle Read Part 1.4 - No Way Out Read Part 1.5 - Rock And A Hard Place Read Part 2.1 - Last Chance

Mayday’s fingers ghosted over Hexx’s empty helmet, lips twisting in a grimace. He bit the expression back to neutrality, forcing his face into an impassive mask. Wouldn’t do to break down now.

Reverently he placed his friend’s helmet onto the crate beside Veetch’s, turning it to face in. He took a few moments to adjust it until, satisfied with the alignment, he brushed his hand over Veetch’s helmet too and stepped back to survey his work.

Eleven helmets. Eleven blank visors, staring unseeing up at him. Eleven empty buckets, holding nothing but ghosts and bad memories, each bearing the scars of their owner’s deaths.

Some leader he was, without a squad left to command.

Crosshair had stayed quiet throughout the ritual, unobtrusive yet watchful. Mayday felt the other’s eyes on him, but the sniper wasn’t his focus.

The funereal silence was broken by the lieutenant storming in.

“What are you doing just standing around?” he demanded, pushing past Crosshair to immediately crowd into Mayday’s space. “Those raiders stole two crates of cargo in that attack,” he accused, jabbing an angry finger at the clone commander. “Send your troops to retrieve it.”

Mayday took a deep breath, closing his eyes just for a moment. When he sighed the breath out, his voice was gravel.

“Hexx, and Veetch, were killed in the ambush.” He said their names slowly, rolling them round his tongue like keeping the sound of their names in his mouth might keep their memories alive a little longer. Just as slowly, he turned from the memorial, lifting his bowed head to glare at the lieutenant.

“We don’t have the manpower, or gear, for a mission beyond the perimeter,” he said flatly. “Especially just to recover a few crates.”

The hollow pit of loss gnawed at his stomach as he remembered the last time they ventured beyond the base to retrieve stolen cargo. Back then, he’d had men to lose.

Nolan was having none of it.

“It’s not up to you to determine what is of value to the Empire,” he pouted, puffing himself up to glare at the clone commander.

Mayday grit his teeth and returned the look with his own uncompromising glower.

“Then I need all your men for this mission,” he said, calculating the likelihood of success as he spoke.

“And leave this outpost vulnerable to another attack?” trilled Nolan in disbelief. “I think not.” He turned, and now his pointing finger encompassed both the clone troopers. “This task falls to you two, and you two alone. Recover the cargo. Is that clear?”

Mayday’s eyes flicked up, and he found himself meeting the gaze of the defective clone who had, as before, remained silent through the lieutenant’s tirade.

Crosshair’s jaw worked around a toothpick, and his eyes slid away.

Mayday swallowed his bitter pride and returned his glare to the Imperial officer. “Yes, Lieutenant,” he ground out, watching as the man retreated.

Behind him the sniper turned the toothpick over in his mouth as he chewed anxiously.

Taking a deep breath, Mayday rolled his neck to ease the tension and came to join Crosshair, seating himself on a crate and leaning forwards to warm his hands and face in the meagre glow of the heater. He glanced at the still-standing sniper, offering him a hollow smile.

“A special mission, just for us clones,” he said, not bothering to mask the resentment in his voice. “So what did you do to get on his bad side?”

Crosshair shrugged his thin shoulders, not meeting Mayday’s eyes.

Mayday sighed, letting his gaze drop, before sneaking a glance up at the other clone again. At least Crosshair’s reluctance to look at him gave him chance to study the man. He had tried not to stare when the CT-99 first removed his helmet, but it was hard not to want to.

He'd expected some slight variance from the standard template, but Crosshair's narrow face and sharp jaw were a far cry from the mirror he was used to seeing when he looked at his clone brothers. His skin was paler too, and his shorn-back hair hugged his scalp with stubble that showed shades of grey despite his youth.

Mayday had politely averted his attention from the pitted scar at the other clone's temple - it was bad grace to ask about these things.

Looking closely, he noticed the characteristics they did share. Narrowed though they were in constant suspicion, Crosshair had the same shrewd brown eyes that Mayday was so familiar with, restlessly darting and framed by the tattoo around his right orbit. Mayday briefly wondered if the clone had picked his name first, or if it was the tattoo which had earned him the moniker.

And the gauntness of his face was also familiar. Enhanced by his jutting cheekbones, Mayday recognised the look of someone gone too long with too little food, the hollow hardness that came with dire situations. He would never ask what Crosshair had been through, but he'd bet his meagre credit balance that it wasn't so different to what Mayday and his own squad had suffered.

His gaze drifted back to the line of empty buckets, to the two most newly added to the end of the row.

“That man is going to be the death of me,” he muttered, reluctantly pushing back to his feet. “Come on. I’ll grab my gear and we’ll head out.”

“I’ll say this about the tunnels,” said Mayday with false levity, “at least they’re warm. Well, relatively speaking. We’re out of the wind… that’s something.”

There was a lingering silence before Crosshair asked, “Do you always talk this much?”

Mayday huffed a laugh at the acerbic comment. “Yeah, I guess I do,” he said without remorse. "Why, remind you of someone?"

If anything, Crosshair's silence got colder. Mayday glanced at his recalcitrant companion before turning to face ahead once more.

"Not much of a talker, are you."

"Better than people who talk when they've got nothing to say."

Mayday’s grim smile was hidden inside his helmet. "Not gonna give an inch, are you? I was hoping you'd lighten up once we were away from the Imperials."

Crosshair swung to face him, torchlight bright in his face and the muzzle of the firepuncher just above it.

"We're all Imperials now," he said, in a voice which warred between conviction and reticence. "Or did you miss the memo?"

"Oh I got it," said Mayday darkly, tapping his temple. "I just chose to hang onto my own faculties despite it."

He moved past the sniper, one hand casually pushing the firepuncher down and away. Crosshair lingered for a moment before falling back into step behind the commander.

"They say loyalty is bred into us clones," continued Mayday softly, sounding out his thoughts slowly to his unwilling audience. "Under the Republic, I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. I was proud to do my duty."

He let the thought trail off, chasing the indistinct feeling of discomfiture that had lodged inside his chest after Order 66 and hardened into something immoveable during the long months on Barton IV.

"The Empire is different," he said at length. "I don't know. I'm still loyal. Always have been. It's just..."

"You've been questioning," supplied Crosshair unexpectedly.

Mayday pulled up short, regarding the sniper with a shrewd look.

"Perhaps you've thought about this after all."

"Perhaps," said the younger clone non-committally. Then he gestured with his rifle. "Keep walking, or we'll never catch them."

Mayday rolled his eyes and breathed a shallow, sarcastic, "Sir, yes sir."

They had been following the tunnels for an hour before their torches lighted on a pair of boots sticking out from round a slight bend.

When they reached the man, Mayday crouched down and checked for vitals. The raider’s thickly padded clothes were stained dark from the gunshot wound Crosshair had inflicted; the sniper didn’t react to that, surveying the corpse dispassionately.

“He didn’t get far.”

Mayday rocked back onto his heels, shaking his head. “Not sure what bothers me more,” he said, voice soft with introspection. “That he’s wearing armour stolen off my men, or that his cohorts just left him here.”

He remembered the lengths he and his men had gone to in recovering each of their fallen brethren’s bodies. The final chance for a farewell. Looking at the dead raider, abandoned by his comrades, filled him with a hollow kind of sorrow.

Crosshair merely scoffed.

“No point carrying dead weight.”

There was a fine line between arrogance and insecurity, and Mayday was an experienced enough commander to recognise when one was masking the other. He glanced up at Crosshair, wondered again about the scars and the gauntness of his underweight frame.

Wondered who had left the Imperial sniper behind, that he was now so callous about the fate of others.

With a grunt, he pushed to his feet.

“Remind me not to die on your watch,” he muttered, and they left the fallen raider behind.

Mayday stiffened instantly at the familiar click, stomach dropping into a pit of dread.

To his credit, Crosshair didn’t panic. He froze, going stock still as Mayday turned to face him.

“Pressure mine,” supplied the commander helpfully.

Crosshair hummed an irate acknowledgement of the obvious statement.

Mayday knelt on the ground before Crosshair, laying down his blaster and positioning his torch to light the other clone’s feet. Ignoring the chill of the snow through his gloves, he carefully brushed the powdery stuff away until he revealed the edges of the innocuous, deadly metal plate.

Unable to resist, he huffed a laugh. “What were you saying about dead weight?”

“Do you know how to disarm it?” bit Crosshair, his annoyed tone not quite masking the anxious undercurrent of tension that thrummed from him.

With a shrug, Mayday rocked back to his heels. “I’m not an explosives expert,” he said bluntly. “But since I don’t feel like carrying your body back to the outpost…” He left a deliberate pause, glancing up at Crosshair to find the other clone’s visor turned towards him, gaze riveted on his position. “Guess I’ll give a shit.”

Mayday had an unexpectedly intense longing to know what Crosshair’s expression was behind the featureless black helmet. Was he glaring at Mayday in disdain… or was he moved by his assertion that, even if he died, Mayday would show him the same care he had the rest of his brothers in recovering his body?

He hoped it was the latter. Eleven empty helmets crowded his memories. He didn’t want to add a twelfth, but if he had to, he wanted Crosshair to know that someone would care about his death.

Breaking the long stare, Mayday turned back to the pressure mine. “This one’s a little different to the ones I’ve seen before,” he said, leaning to inspect it from all sides. Crosshair’s shin trembled, with cold or with tension, but he kept his foot carefully weighted on the pad. Then, with another injection of feigned casualness, “I’m pretty sure they’re all the same. Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

His cold-numbed fingers didn’t want to co-operate as he withdrew the set of small metal pegs and hammer from his belt. He took a moment to inspect them, checking that the ends were sharp enough to bite into the frozen ground, before leaning in and beginning to tap the first peg into place.

“Wish I had the proper equipment for this,” he said as he worked, talking through the thudding of his heart whilst Crosshair remained completely silent. Sweat beaded on his brow inside his helmet, despite the ambient temperature. “But the Empire’s ignored all my requests. I’ve learned to improvise, though.”

As the first peg came to rest on the mine he opened his hand, displaying the remaining tools to Crosshair. Thought of all the times this home-made kit had worked.

Tried not to think of Telmer.

“I guess all clones have had to learn to improvise since the war,” he continued softly, shuffling to the side as he positioned the second peg. He kept his gaze trained on the mine, carefully measuring the gap as the peg closed on the pressure plate.

Crosshair’s silence was beginning to unnerve him. Anxiety roiled in his stomach, wishing the other clone would say something – encouragement, scathing remarks, anything.

“Can’t say I ever thought much about the war ending,” he said, hoping it would prompt the other to speak. “Until it did.”

When that failed to elicit a response, he switched to a direct question.

“What unit were you with?”

He heard the intake of breath as Crosshair hesitated. It was hard to avoid such a straight query from a commander, but the sniper made a valiant effort.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Humour me,” said Mayday. His hands moved past Crosshair’s foot again, reaching to position the final peg. “I could use the distraction.”

There was still a long moment when the only sound was the delicate tap of the hammer on the improvised disarming peg. When Crosshair finally spoke his voice was soft, missing the acid edge of his earlier snark.

“Clone Force 99.”

Mayday nodded slowly as he worked. He recognised the name, although he had never worked with the unit.

“What happened to them?” he asked, hoping his gentle tone would invite elaboration.

“They’re… gone.”

The sniper’s choice of words was more telling than he realised. Mayday wasn’t about to pry, but it was easy to see there was something complex going on there.

He thought of his brothers, his men who had been with him through the unrelenting hardship of Barton IV. Geo and Dene, Krake, Recon and Axis, Ferox, Atlas, Telmer and Helix. Veetch. Hexx.

They weren't ‘gone’. They were dead.

Gone… gone implied something else.

He also sensed that Crosshair wasn’t going to open up any further, no matter how carefully he angled his question. Instead, he turned his thoughts outwards to what remained.

“And here we are, the survivors.” The derision in his tone drew a hum of agreement from Crosshair, and he couldn’t keep the bitterness from his next words. “Combat troopers, stuck babysitting cargo shipments.”

Now Crosshair shifted his frame ever so slightly, the first movement since he triggered the mine, as his shoulders lifted in a shrug.

“Mission’s a mission,” he said, his voice thin with disinterest.

“Yeah.” Mayday pondered the other clone’s words, trying to remember a version of himself that had arrived on Barton IV over fourteen months ago. “I used to say the same thing.”

Crosshair employed every ounce of his training to keep deathly still as the reg commander worked to disarm the pressure mine under his foot. Endless hours cramped in one place, waiting for his target to come into position, was nothing compared to the strain that this put on his body. Every muscle ached, screaming against the cold to be allowed to shiver, to move, to warm him. He clamped down with iron willpower to supress the urge to twitch even the slightest amount. He daren’t move, or the pressure mine would send them both to an early grave.

A lacklustre thought at the back of his mind wondered if that might be better. He quickly quashed that too, with a growl of annoyance. Thoughts like that weren’t helpful.

He had survived so much. He would survive this too. He’d be damned if he failed this mission; he wanted his success to wipe the smirk off Lieutenant Nolan’s face when the clones came through.

If only the damn reg would stop talking. The susurrus of his conversation was stopping Crosshair from concentrating on remaining perfectly still.

Especially when he asked about Clone Force 99.

Crosshair had let the name escape from behind clenched teeth, unwilling but seemingly unavoidable. Now memories he didn’t want flooded his mind, after all his hard work to put aside everything that had ever tied him to the clones he had once called brothers.

Not that the mindless babble Mayday had provided the rest of the day had been any easier to bear.

Loyalty. He’d talked about it, how loyalty was bred into the clones.

Crosshair had always thought he was different. He was enhanced.

Defective, whispered the poisonous voice in his mind.

But listening to Mayday talk, all he could hear was Rampart’s gently mocking voice.

“How long were you left stranded on that Kaminoan platform before being recovered?”

“Thirty-two rotations.”

“Hmm. All that time. Left for dead and yet you still came back. Why?”

He came back because he was loyal. He was a soldier of the Empire, proud to be one of the clones chosen to support the new regime instead of being sidelined by it.

Had to be proud of that, to balance the loss.

And his loyalty was his. He’d been so sure of that. It wasn’t bred into him. It wasn’t, like the kid had said, some chip in his brain controlling his actions. After all, he’d had his chip removed after Bracca, and had still worked for the Empire.

Only now it felt like that faith was fracturing, breaking as readily as the cracks in the cavernous ice around him.

He hated the reg commander. Hated his compelling, measured voice. Hated the uncertainty he planted in his mind.

Hated how reassuring it was to hear another clone voice the same doubts he’d been afraid to turn over in the dark privacy of his thoughts.

Mayday couldn’t be right. The Empire had to be worth defending.

Otherwise he’d lost his brothers for nothing.

“There. That should do it.”

The hint of triumph in Mayday’s tone pierced Crosshair’s thoughts and instantly his body was ready to move, the words the signal he needed to relax his cramped position.

“Woah, woah, woah!” warned Mayday in alarm, backing up and holding his hands up cautiously. “Don’t pick up your foot yet. Wait until I tell you.” He turned his bucket up to face Crosshair, the cloth-wrapped helmet dusted with snow. “Then lift your foot, but real slow like. I’ll wait around the bend.”

The commander began to back away, turning his back to Crosshair.

“If I don’t hear a boom, then I’ll know it worked,” he called back, almost casually, over his shoulder.

Crosshair grit his teeth, scrunching his eyes shut behind his helmet. How he wished it had been Wrecker attending the mine.

“Glad you’re confident in your work,” he spat icily.

“Oh, I’m confident,” Mayday’s voice drifted to him. “I’m just not stupid.”

Crosshair wriggled his fingers round his rifle, testing his balance on his numb legs. A shiver of cold made its way down his leg to the foot still atop the pressure plate.

“Remember, nice and slow. On the count of three. One.”

He steadied himself.

“Two.”

Took his weight on his back leg.

“Three.”

Lifted his foot.

The pegs held the pressure plate in place. Crosshair couldn’t control how his breath whooshed out in relief and he staggered back against the tunnel wall, sagging his aching body against it.

Mayday reappeared, surveying the pressure mine before clapping a hand to Crosshair’s shoulder.

“You did good, lad.”

Crosshair snarled. “Get off me.”

Mayday’s casual laugh was infuriating.

“Don’t say thank you, then,” he said, releasing him and turning to continue down the tunnel. “Keep up. Wouldn’t want you to get left behind down here.”

Read Part 2.3 - Swept Away

Welcome to Angstpril!

This writing project is a collaboration between myself, @the-little-moment and @kybercrystals94 to bring you a fabulous series of angst-based Bad Batch fanfiction. We've shared the prompts between us so don't forget to check all of our blogs to catch the whole month's worth of stories!

We're over half way through Mayday's story now, and there's hardship yet to come for him to face alongside Crosshair. Stay tuned to follow their journey to the bitter end...

will do my level best to get the next chapter finished on time but it's been A Few Days so we'll see

#angstpril2024 #thebadbatch #fanfiction #day20 #broken #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfic #tbb fanfic #clone commander mayday #commander mayday #barton iv #the outpost #lieutenant nolan #crosshair #tbb crosshair #ct 9904 #crosshair and mayday #crosshair & mayday #littlekyberthoughts

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kodalacar · 2 years

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Bluff 💣

#inktober 2022 #inktober #day20 #bluff #arcane #chuck #jinx #kodalacar #fanart

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kadiwright · 6 months

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Day 20: Ink

Prompt belongs to DarkDragonDeception on DA

Bendy and the Dark Revival (C) TheMeatly

Art (C) @kadiwright

#goretober2023 #day20 #ink #bendy and the dark revival #carley #the butcher gang #charley #barley #edgar #digitalart #myart #artist on tumblr

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black-opal-001 · 6 days

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@trigun98watchparty

In day 20 we have: "🌠", ":O", "Look at his face!" and "She is so cute!:D":

First of all: Drawing Knives eye was fun.

Second:Jessica is cute:).

References:

#tri98watchparty #trigun 98 #Day20 #the great fall was a beatiful disaster.

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theroguequeenaniki · 4 months

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youtube

NEW VIDEO!

CHECK IT OUT!

Monkey Tried To STEAL My Camera // Vlogmas Days 19 21 https://youtu.be/AZWNS1X4m1c?si=RH306YAjPjUTXv4x via @YouTube #Vlogmas2023 #YouTube #Vlogmas #Christmas #CountdownToChristmas #NewVideoAlert #Cats #cutecats #Day19 #Day20 #Day21 #cutecats #Christmas2023

#Vlogmas2023 #YouTube #Vlogmas #Christmas #CountdownToChristmas #NewVideoAlert #Cats #cutecats #Day19 #Day20 #Day21 #Christmas2023 #new video #check it out #kimicka13 #Youtube

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logicgunn · 11 months

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domaystic 20: in the nearby park

On AO3

Written for @domaystic

Botany have done a good job of replanting the terrarium, sunthirsty plants in auspicious places and moonfaring species in darker corners. It’s all colour and scent and nature, but—”

“What are we doing here, John?”

John shuffles from foot to foot, and Rodney clocks his intentions as he pulls a box out of his pocket.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I just...uh...figured after all that talk of proxies and plans...”

“I see.”

“So?”

“So what? Oh! Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

“Really?”

“What, you thought I’d say no?”

“Well, maybe.”

“You’re an idiot.”

John grins. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.”

#domaystic2023 #day20 #in the nearby park #stargate atlantis #mcshep #sfw #drabble

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boxthoughtsblog · 5 months

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My Sky Today - November 20, 2023 5:31pm Hawaii Join the MY SKY TODAY project!

#myskytoday #2023 #November #DAY20 #TIME1700 #UTC0300DATe20231121 #Hawaii #USA #evening clouds #gray skies #showers #BoxThoughts

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solar-siren · 1 year

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Angstpril Day Twenty: “I Can’t Go Back”

“I can’t go back,” Paige says. When she looks at Argon from the spire’s peak, she focuses on the sectors stained with red. Including the ship she once lived on.

“Do you want to?” Beck asks. He hovers just behind her. Not suspicious or judgemental. Just… curious.

“Not exactly,” she admits. “But it was home, for a little while. And now it’s not.”

Beck imagines it’s like his own connection to the spire. To Tron. He considers how he would feel if his mentor turned on him, tried to kill him. If he had nowhere else to go.

“It’s the second time now,” Paige says, brushing the hair from her eyes. “The second time I’ve found myself with nothing. With no place left to go.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Beck asks. His hand slips into hers, offering warm [ reassurance ]. When she says yes, he listens.

Maybe home isn’t as far away as she’d thought.

#angstpril2023 #tron #tron uprising #fanfiction #day20 #i can't go back #paige #beck #beck x paige #renepaige #ren writes

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descendinginto-madness · 6 days

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broken.

word count: 1092

content warnings: descriptions of injuries & broken bones

summary: yuhua's pharmacy is a safe place.

author's note: i need to write more stuff with these two, and with yuhua specifically too fr... his lore isn't as developed as emile's for example but i like him.silly guy :3

Though Yuhua doesn't exactly expect it, Mingzhu becomes quite a frequent customer at Lotus Pharmacy.

Their visits aren't particularly regular, and it's hard to predict if the next one will happen after a day or maybe a week - but it's not really a problem. It's not like they're close in any way, after all; Yuhua is simply someone concerned for Mingzhu after that one evening, yet someone who can't really do much - still, he makes sure they feel welcome every time they visit. His pharmacy is a safe spot to whoever needs it, and Mingzhu does seem like they do.

His efforts don't seem to be in vain, and he's glad to see it; every time they visit, they're a little more talkative, and a little less scared, though… He also suspects that the fact their previous injuries seem to have healed, and he didn't spot any new ones, is also a big, if not the main reason as to why. He's glad to see that things are going at least a little better for them, though.

Until, one day, they aren't.

Once again, it's fairly late in the evening; Yuhua is slowly preparing to close up the pharmacy, in between serving the last few and far between customers, when the door opens.

Once again, he barely hears Mingzhu come in.

This time, though, there's something just so slightly… Different; their footsteps are still quiet, the way they move is still that without making almost any sounds, but there's also a bit more… Urgency, or perhaps panic, in the way they move, and Yuhua catches a glimpse of it in their eyes when the two of them make eye contact. Once that happens, and Mingzhu realizes his expression is just as inviting as always they seem to relax a little, but now their fear is replaced by a different look - they seem lost, as if their plan, if they had a plan in the first place, ended at coming here.

“What's the matter?” he asks, after a second or two. His voice is gentle, but with a hint of worry in it. They don't reply; they just look at him with wide, teary eyes, the redness clear on their face. It's obvious they've been crying, maybe even right before they entered the pharmacy, and were only now trying to hold back somewhat.

He gets up from his spot behind the counter and approaches them. His eyes are watching them carefully, trying to assess the situation, but he makes sure he's not too intrusive with it, nor abrupt with his movements; it's almost like approaching a wounded animal, in fear of startling it and making it run away before it allows any help.

“Mingzhu?” he asks softly.

Their face looks pale; aside from all of the emotional turmoil they must be going through right now, and the signs of which he has already spotted, though, they also seem to be in pain - and once he notices it, it becomes his main concern. If they're injured, then the first thing he should do is to take a look at these injuries and make sure they're properly taken care of - then they can talk. He wants to know what happened to help them better, but that can wait until Mingzu is a little calmer and not in pain.

At the very least, he quickly spots what might be the main source of their pain - and while there are a few fresh bruises he can see, they're not the main culprit here. It's their right arm, pressed tightly against their chest like they were trying to avoid moving it. The wrist looks swollen and red, and Yuhua can only imagine that even small movements must be painful for them.

Still, he needs to ask them to move their hand to help them.

“May I see your wrist?” he asks, making sure his voice is gentle. They seem to hesitate for a moment, but - thankfully - they eventually nod, wincing slightly when they reach their hand towards him, careful not to make any sudden movements

Ah.

He uses his left hand to support their wrist as he takes a good look at it; the skin around it is not only bruised but also warm to the touch, and, as he already noticed before, it's swollen; combined with the fact the movement seems to strengthen their pain, he has to assume they've broken a bone.

“...Your wrist seems to be broken,” he explains in a calm voice. He instantly sees a change in their face - they clearly look like it's a thing they did not want to hear right now, so he's quick to continue. “I could heal it right now, though… If you allow me, of course.”

They're quite for a second or two before they finally speak. Their voice is quet and a little shaky, but it seems that, at the very least, what he just said helped them take their mind off of everything that’s troubling them.

“You're a healer?” they ask, and he smiles slightly, giving them a small nod.

“Yes,” he simply says. He… could tell them more, probably; and he does expect further questions, but for now, that simple answer seems to be enough for them.

“...Go ahead, then,” they say. There are some unspoken words hanging in the air, but he pays them no mind.

He nods, placing his right hand over their wrist. He barely even touches them; it's just the lightest contact, necessary for him to better focus on what he needs to do. He doesn't fully realize it but his expression becomes more serious, a little more… Devoid of anything as he puts his entire attention to the broken bone, drawing from the powers granted to him from Yaoshi to repair any damage done. It's over in less than a minute; and he lets go of their hand, looking up at them.

“Try to move it now,” he asks. They're a bit hesitant to do so, he can see their body tense up, expecting more pain - but they relax almost instantly, realizing that it's now gone.

“...Thank you,” they mutter, and he only smiles. It's clear they want to say something more, so he waits - he doesn't want to rush them.

“...Could I stay here for a bit longer?” they finally ask, and it hurts a little to hear how unsure they sound, almost as if they were expecting him to kick them out now that they were healed.

He doesn't do that, obviously.

“Of course,” he replies instead.

divider by @/cafekitsune

#angstpril2024 #honkai star rail #fanfiction #day20 #broken #hsr #hsr oc #tw injury #tw bruises #tw broken bone #dim writing ☁️

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desyilmi · 1 year

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Reconnecting

Kita hidup sebagai makhluk sosial. Selama hidup, Entah ada berapa banyak manusia yang hadir untuk menjadi warna. Beberapa hanya lewat sepintas, mampir memberi kesan. Beberapa yang lain bertahan dalam jangka waktu yang lama. Tak peduli berapa banyak kekurangan diri yang dikantongi. Tak peduli berapa kesalahan diri yang telah menyakiti.

Sebagian besar hadir melalui himpunan aktivitas yang sama, atau organisasi yang berjalan di atas satu tujuan. Dalam kelompok itu, ada kalanya interaksi kita compang-camping, terkoyak urusan-urusan kecil. Ada kalanya, interaksi kita terasa hampa tanpa kita tahu apa penyebabnya.

Kita kemudian mulai mencari cara. Bagaimana ya agar muncul harmoni lagi dalam hubungan kita? Bagaimana ya agar solidaritas hadir kembali di kelompok kita? Kemudian mulailah diadakan upgrading, healing, dan sejenisnya. Saya rasa beberapa efektif untuk menyatukan kembali yang sempat renggang. Terkadang juga ada jarak yang terasa semakin dekat. Tapi setelah saya coba flashback, biasanya efek sampingnya tak bertahan lama. Lalu kenapa?

Kemarin di kelas tadabbur Ahlan, Teh Fitri menyampaikan tentang kalam Allah yang disebutnya sebagai AYAT SOLIDARITAS.

“Dan Dia (Allah) yang mempersatukan hati mereka (orang yang beriman). Walaupun kamu menginfakkan semua (kekayaan) yang berada di bumi, niscaya kamu tidak dapat mempersatukan hati mereka, tetapi Allah telah mempersatukan hati mereka.” (Q.S. Al-Anfal : 63)

Dari ayat tersebut, kita jadi tahu bahwa tak sedikitpun kita memiliki hak untuk mempersatukan hati manusia. Walau tentu kita dapat berikhtiar dengan bertukar hadiah atau jalan-jalan bersama, tapi di tangan Allah lah hak prerogatif itu. Pada ujungnya, hasilnya betul-betul di tangan Allah. Kemarin disampaikan juga,

“Solidarity is given. And the strongest bonding is from Allah.”

Dan sebaik-sebaik frekuensi pemersatu hati kita adalah: keimanan. Maka jika hari ini kita merasa ada hubungan-hubungan yang renggang tanpa alasan, mari coba cek diri kita. Sedang baik-baik saja kah hati kita dan hati teman kita? Apa kabar ruhiyah kita? Mungkinkah kita sedang disconnecting hubungan dengan Allah?

Mari rayu sang pemilik hati, perbaiki hubungan kita dengan-Nya. Jika kita merasa disconnected, bukankah jalan reconnecting dengan-Nya selalu terbuka lebar? Semoga Allah jaga hubungan horizontal kita dengan iman, aamiin :)

----------------- Sudut kos, 05/01/2023 | 07:54 waktu Jogja

#interaksi #harmoni #day20 #30dwcjilid40 #fighter30dwc #reconnect

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wardhanikusuma · 2 months

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Tok. Tok. Tok.

Terdengar suara pintu di ketuk perlahan, dan perlahan terbuka.

"Bagaimana kabar mu hari ini, apa lebih baik?" Kata mas Ilham dengan suara lembutnya, berdiri di ujung pintu sambil membawa segelas air teh hangat,

Aku menoleh ya sekilas, membenarkan posisi dudukku sudut samping ranjang.

"Iya, sudah lebih baik, terimakasih obat nya", kataku sambil tersenyum.

Obat penghilang rasa nyeri yang aku minum tadi malam, cukup ampuh untuk mengobati rasa nyeri di perut yang tak kunjung usai, kian malam semakin sakit.

Akhir-akhir ini aku sering nyeri perut dan pusing tak tertahan , di tambah lagi sakit gigi bawah yang terus menerus setiap hari, hari ini aku akan kedokter untuk berobat, poli gigi menjadi tujuan utamaku, meski bisa juga langsung ke poli umum, tapi sepertinya poli gigi lebih 'sreg' di hati.

Gegas aku bersiap untuk berobat, setelah meminum teh buatan mas Ilham, aku berjalan menuju mobil, mas Ilham sudah menunggu disana akan mengantarku ke klinik.

Sepanjang perjalanan terselip rasa gugup, aku yang sudah lama tak pernah lagi periksa kedokter kini sedikit grogi, ntah mengapa perjalan kali ini terasa singkat, perjalan selama tigapuluh menit yang kurasa sekarang hanya lima menit, pikiran ku berkecamuk kemana -mana tak karuan, sebenarnya kenapa aku? Ada apa ini kenapa begini, seharusnya ini masalah sepele hanya ke dokter gigi, tapi rasanya sungguh mengerikan.

#30dwcjilid45 #30dwc #day20

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withdrawingramen · 1 year

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resilience is a curse (whumpril + angstpril)

@whumpril d20 - disoriented. / angstpril alternate prompt - serious injury. wrote this for sihyeon and taj (again) but since we're still on sihyeon's latent arc we'll not get there for now. CW: lady/female whump, impaling mention, gunshot wound mention, female whumper using whumpee as a 'lapdog', implied past abuse & missing whumpee being rescued, stoic caretaker. The team had already located Whumpee. Months and months of no signal, no news about them. A photo, an anonymous tip had finally given away where Whumpee was. Within minutes of receiving the tip, the team had instantly rushed out in pursuit. Now, it had been over two hours since the rescue operation. They'd reached just a few seconds late. Whumper grinned at the team. Whumpee's torso was impaled and she fell right into Teammate A's arms. Gasping for air, blood seeping through clothes, onto the floor, staining teammate's arms. A bandage covered her left eye. The other eye was glassy, focused on Whumper, giving no time to the team to cut chase. She'd held out for as long as they could. Waiting. Whumpee had faith in the team. But how long could she hold out now?

Earlier, blood had gushed out from the deep wounds on her torso. It was a struggle to stop the bleeding. Gauze after gauze soaked in red had to be wrapped tightly around the injury and replaced every couple minutes, until they almost ran out. Whumpee had been inches from going into shock due to the intense blood loss, had they not carried spare IV's and blood bags. Lucky for them, Whumpee's blood type was a simple A. Yet, this had not been anticipated. She was absolutely well and alive until they'd stormed in to the rescue, according to the information.

Caretaker ushered everyone out of the coach, despite their visible concern. They promised Whumpee's best friend that they'd monitor her closely, respectfully asking the rest to drag the sobbing figure outside. Overcrowding would do nobody any good. Team had set out in a train, their only available mode of transport currently. Despite booking the vehicle all for themselves, despite the fact they'd be back to base in less than 30 minutes, the tension in the air remained. Time was crucial if they wanted to save Whumpee, and it was running out. Caretaker sat silently before Whumpee's limp figure. She could barely keep herself conscious, eye half open. Irregular breathing and pulse low yet rapid. Lips parted, a streak of blood running down their chin. A cloth lay beneath her head. Her expression was contorted into one of pain that could not be expressed and disorientation. At this point, she was clearly struggling to even be here. Caretaker sighed. "You've been through a lot." Caretaker wasn't sure if their words could reach whumpee. They went on speaking. "Life's horrible to you, isn't it? All your past, the present, and the bleak future. All your talent, your impeccable skill, intellect, have only been tools for others to use. Even Whumper couldn't resist getting her hands on you." Caretaker recalled every detail they knew about the person before them. Whumpee spent years fighting for her freedom and life, fighting oppression. Years of being molded into a weapon, hurt and tortured until pain became her familiar, abandoned and used till she swore the walls guarding her heart would not come down again, yet here she was. "Being in whumper's grasp must have brought back many unpleasant memories." Caretaker whispered. The woman did not respond, her eye unfocused. The rumor of Whumpee narrowly missing being shot in the head during Whumper's ambush was true, after all. The bullet hit her eye instead. Although it missed the brain, she'd lost the eye. "Whumper must have given you the shittiest treatment despite being shot. Made you do her dirty work because you are just that indispensable." "Your resolve must have cracked so many times. But you picked yourself up again. It didn't matter how many times whumper's men and women harassed you, did it?" "This is the curse of simply being strong. You said that once." Caretaker remained still for a while. They listened to the sound of the train running on the tracks. They kept their eyes on the rise and fall of whumpee's chest. "Your fortitude in every aspect of your life has only caused you more suffering. Clearly, your mental capacity is above the average. Thus, Leader asked us to keep our trust in you, just like you did for us. "She'll get through this. She's been through worse. She won't leave us like this." Leader's voice shook a bit while uttering the last sentence at that time, somewhat trying to convince himself, too. It was true for Whumpee. Whumper could do all sorts of things to her to tear her mind, but she'd stitch it back again, no matter how much it took out of her. Yet the same could not be said about the physical essence. "But how much more can your body take?" The body that has survived so much battering and bruising through the years of it's existence, the one that has sustained and shouldered so much agony. The wear and tear will continue taking it's toll. Until it can take no more. The will has no play in this. Caretaker reached out for Whumpee's hand. It was slightly cold. They held it gently, yet tightly. Her labored breaths were audible to caretaker now. "So give every part of yourself the right to rest. Please hang on, just for a little more. You have to come back to us." As if giving into the sweet release of unconsciousness, whumpee's eye shut slowly.

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