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in1-nutshell · 3 months

Note

Hello! Sorry I’ve been putting a lot of asks. You can feel free to push this one later. I just wanted to submit this ask while I still remembered this idea. A while ago I read your post about Optimus Prime with a daughter who was his exact opposite, and I loved that one! So may I request a similar idea with TFP Ratchet? Like TFP Ratchet with a daughter bot Buddy who is his exact opposite. Like who had a gentle and sweet and that “Does it hurt here? Aww, you poor thing” “Hey you are doing so much better! Aww! Great job” type of classic cartoon nurse personality, as well as the classic “I love these little creatures! Can we keep them? Father pleaaase?” type of little girl personality (probably to the humans, to Ratchet’s dismey). And she also looked up to Arcee a lot. Like, A LOT! Her absolute idol! she would want to copy every way Arcee talk and behave (even the bad examples)(much to Ratchet’s dismay) and copying the way Arcee battle too. And thanks to Arcee she now wished she could join the battlefield and do all these wonderful cool and dangerous things too! (Once again, much to Ratchet’s dismey)

Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! YES! Give Ratchet a child!

Hope you enjoy!

Ratchet with a daughter who has the exact opposite personality to his own

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Buddy was originally a sparkling from a dear friend of Ratchet and Orion Pax’s.

Their caregiver was an extremely pacifistic bot who wanted nothing more than peace on Cybertron. But once in a while the caregiver would join a rally with Pax and Ratchet. They believed in change and agreed something needed to be done.

They sadly passed away from natural causes one day when they dropped Buddy off at his clinic to pick up some rust sticks for Buddy. The two friends were devastated hearing the news while the sparkling was happily playing around with her toys.

Their caregiver had placed Ratchet as the primary care giver if anything should happen, Orion was to be the sparkling godparent.

Ratchet took on the new duties immediately.

It was the least he could do for his friend and the sparkling.

Ratchet made sure to let the sparkling know what happened to their caregiver when they were older.

“And that’s the story.”--Ratchet

“So, they’re really gone then?”--Buddy

“Yes…”--Ratchet

“…Does that mean I can’t tell bots you’re my caregiver?”--Buddy

“What?”--Ratchet

“I mean, you take care of me, you feed me, you help me with stuff I don’t know, you helped me choosing my alt mode, you let me rant when things get too much, and you love me… right?”--Buddy

“Of course, I do!”--Ratchet

“Then?”--Buddy

“…I am…I…”--Ratchet

“You don’t have to say it if you aren’t ready. I love you, you take your time.”--Buddy

“… I love you, Buddy. I love you, my sparkling.”--Ratchet

“To Luna 1 and back?”--Buddy

“To Luna 1 and back.”--Ratchet

The sparkling grew up with a peculiar personality contrasting his.

She wasn’t as sarcastic as he was. If fact it was rare to hear her say sarcastic things. Buddy rather expressed herself open when she could.

“Hi Arcee! Hi Cliffjumper! How was patrol this evening?”--Buddy

“It was fine. Not a Con in sight.”--Arcee

“And too bad too. We would have knocked out their processors out right away!”--Cliffjumper

“Any wounds today? Dents? Dinges? Scratches?”--Buddy

“Yeah I think some of the gravel clipped my servos.”--Cliffjumper

“Oh! Let me!—”--Buddy

“He was joking Buddy.”—Arcee

“Oh…”--Buddy

“…But I do have some cool looking rocks to add to your collection.”—Cliffjumper

“Really! Awesome! Let me go get my collection right now!”—Buddy

“Nice save.”--Arcee

“No thanks to you ‘Cee.”--Cliffjumper

She was a very sensitive individual and extremely empathetic in nature. Just like her former Caregiver, a near perfect image of them.

That being said, Buddy did pick up some of Ratchet’s habits.

Sleep schedule? Never heard of them.

Perfectionist? Absolutely.

Think highly of a certain bot? Yes, but not the same one.

Buddy cleaning some of the medical equipment.

Bumblebee coming out from his habsuite.

“Beep beop! (Morning Buddy!)”--Bumblebee

“Morning? But it was just—oh! God morning Bumblebee!”--Buddy

“Beep… bep bep bop? (Buddy… how many hours did you sleep?)”--Bumblebee

“… So, are you going to pick up Raf today?”--Buddy

“Bep beep (Like Daughter like Father)”--Bumblebee

“Hey!”--Buddy

“Bep bop? (Am I wrong?)”--Bumblebee

“…No…”--Buddy

Buddy stayed by Ratchet’s side through the thick and thin as his nurse. It seemed like the best role for Buddy to play. They did get taught by the very best anyways.

The kids for the longest time thought that Buddy was simply a student to Ratchet.

“Hey Buddy, do you have parents?”--Miko

“Miko!”--Jack

“What it’s a valid question.”--Miko

“Umm… I’m confused. You know him already.”--Buddy

“Wait your parent is one of the bots on the Team?”--Raf

“Yes? I thought you knew already.”--Buddy

“Who is it! I bet its Optimus!”--Miko

“Actually, he is my godparent as you’d say it on Earth.”--Buddy

“Then who?”--Raf

“Ratchet.”--Buddy

“RATCHET!?”--Miko

“What’s wrong?!”--Ratchet

“You’re Buddy’s dad!?”--Miko

“Yes? I thought you knew already.”--Ratchet

“That’s what I said!”--Buddy

“But how—I want a Cybertronain DNA test, cause there is no way sweety Buddy is related to salty you.”--Miko

“I’m actually adopted Miko.”--Buddy

“Oh?”--Miko

“But that doesn’t mean you aren’t my daughter, Buddy.”--ratchet

“And that doesn’t mean you aren’t my father Ratchet.”--Buddy

“Wow…”--Jack

“This is too cute I’m going to go puke.”--Miko

“And you ruined it.”--Jack

This clears a lot of things for the humans.

Buddy was the eldest of the youngest group on Team Prime. She took her job as big sister seriously with Bumblebee and later with Smokescreen. She made sure to always be there for them in any way she could figure out was necessary.

The two bots enjoyed having someone have their backs and fixing them when they came back from patrol.

“Hey Smokes’, you’re doing amazing there.”--Buddy

“Really?”--Smokescreen

“Yeah, just a bit longer and you’ll be on your pedes in no time!”--Buddy

“Yeah!”--Smokescreen

“Then you can start the physical therapy.”--Buddy

“Can I skip that?”--Smokescreen

“Did I studder?”—Buddy

CRUNCH!

Bumblebee accidentally crushed a tool with his pede.

“Bee… Honeybee… I needed that.”--Buddy

Ratchet on the other side of the base.

“…I suddenly feel proud for some reason?”--Ratchet

Like Ratchet Buddy looked up to certain teammates.

While Ratchet looked up to Optimus, Buddy looked up to Arcee.

Buddy saw a hero and great friend in Arcee.

A part of Buddy, like Ratchet, wished she could do more to help the team. When she saw Arcee sparring and hearing the retellings of her stories, she could only imagine doing the stuff Arcee could do.

“Then what happened?”--Buddy

“That’s when me and Cliff went into the groundbridge while Shockwave shot at us with his canon.”--Arcee

“I remember hearing that cliff was knocked unconscious when he went into the portal. What did you do to Shockwave?”—Buddy

“Are you sure you want to know?”--Arcee

“Absolutely!”--Buddy

“Heh…I shot the Cyclops right in that giant optic of his! He fell straight back to Cybertron with a BANG!”--Arcee

“COOL!”—Buddy

“Please don’t influence my child.”--Ratchet

“No promises.”--Arcee

“Yeah, no promises!”--Buddy

“…Maybe you were right…”--Arcee

Ratchet just hopes that Buddy doesn’t follow Arcee exactly.

He is too old for these jump scares.

And its not like Buddy would go into battle with nothing more than their med kit for Arcee alone, right?

Right?

#transformers x reader #transformers #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp arcee #tfp arcee x platonic reader #tfp ratchet #tfp ratchet x platonic reader

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celtic-crossbow · 3 months

Text

Whumpuary Day 17-18

Prompt: Headache (alt)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

You had not been home long when Daryl came shuffling through the door. He had gone on a run, leaving at the ass-crack of dawn but they were back by early afternoon with two boxes of medical supplies as fruits of their labor. Then he had been helping to move the solar panels and work on the battery hookup with Eugene. You were certain he was thrilled about that.

You knew he hadn’t stopped; hadn’t told anyone he needed a break. It’s just who he was. Help until the job was done. It was a given that he’d be exhausted. You’d let him relax, maybe shower, while you made a quick dinner.

Except… he stumbled after closing the door, the tips of the fingers on his left hand pressed against his temple. He didn’t so much as wave before depositing himself face first onto the couch, long legs hanging over the edge of the cushions. If it wasn’t so out of character for him, you’d find it comical.

“Uh, hi.” You leaned into the room before actually entering. “Rough day?” There was a muffled mhm. “Hungry?” Another muted answer, but this one was mm-mm. God, you wanted to laugh, but that would need to wait until you found out a little more about why your boyfriend came home and immediately attempted to suffocate himself on the living room furniture.

You knelt slowly, rubbing your hand over the warm leather on his back. You were pretty sure the next noise was a sigh.

“Are you okay?” You ventured, probing a little more while leaving space in between questions so as not to irritate the archer. You thought he might have said super and was a bit dry, but it was hard to tell with the thick fabric pressed against his face.

You shifted to properly sit on the floor, moving your hand in random patterns over his back. Maybe if you were patient, he would decide air was a good thing and sit up to enjoy it. You didn’t have anywhere else to be. It took about five minutes for him to very slowly roll his head toward you, expression drawn and eyes squinted. Uh oh. Your Dixon sense was tingling.

“What’s wrong?”

He visibly attempted a scowl but gave up after only a brief effort. “Head.”

Oh, the jokes you could make. Not the time, Y/N.

“Headache.” It wasn’t a question. It was blatantly obvious after he’d given you a clue. Judging from his flushed skin and the tension nearly vibrating over his form, it was a bad one. “Okay, just a second.” Daryl didn’t normally get headaches, so you were unsure how to treat one in a man that never complained and despised feeling weak or vulnerable. As you pulled the shades and closed the curtains, you glanced back at him.

Weak was a fitting word. If a herd plowed through right now, he’d probably thank them when they started to eat him.

With the room sufficiently darkened, you crouched in front of him, brushing his hair away from his eyes with a barely there swipe of your fingertips. “I’m going to go get a few things for you. Just relax here until I get back.”

“S’okay.” He mumbled, his arm falling away from where it had been tucked at his side. He let his hand hit the floor with little care. “Don’ need ta go outta yer way. M’good.”

A tilt of your head and tender smile should have been enough of a response, but just in case it wasn’t. “You know better than that. Sit tight.” You backed away from him in case he was about to offer any other objections but he surrendered and turned his hand with a thumbs up.

You made a list in your head as you shuffled around the house. Pain killers. Tylenol would be okay but you were hoping for one of the stronger ones he’d been given when he’d broken his ribs. He was just as stubborn then so there were probably at least a couple left.

While on your search, you were passing by other things you needed. Washcloths. The small basin that you reserved for cleaning him up when he came home bloody. And eureka! Pills!

You contemplated getting him some comfortable clothes but the less he moved right then, the better. As an afterthought, you toed off your boots, quieting your steps significantly when you descended the stairs. If he noticed you bypassing him to disappear into the kitchen, he didn’t voice it. He’d need a glass of water to take the pills though you were certain he wasn’t beyond swallowing them dry. You filled the basin with cool water as well and strategically balanced your burden while padding back into the living room.

Placing the items on the end table, you leaned down to press the most gentle kiss to the crown of his head. His eyes were closed but you were almost certain he wasn’t asleep.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to move around for just a minute and then you can stay still as long as you want. Deal?”

“Don’ wanna.” He groaned, reminding you very much of a grumpy toddler. Your hands drifted to his shoulders, pulling up as gingerly as you could to motivate him.

“Come on.” His eyes were squeezed shut, jaw clenched against the throbbing in his skull. Those things were counterproductive when dealing with a headache but if you could get him to take the pills and lie down more comfortably, maybe he’d relax a little. “I got the leftover strong ones so this should start helping pretty quickly.”

“Okay.” He was so quiet and looked so small at that moment. You wanted to wrap him up and hold onto him forever. He held out his palm and you handed over the medication, barely getting the glass in front of him in time for him to swallow with the water.

“Okay, now you get pampered.” You crawled to the far end of the couch next to your supplies and sat, patting your thighs. “Your pillow awaits, handsome.” You were barely able to stifle the giggle when he rolled his eyes before promptly pressing his palm against his forehead with a drawn out whine of ow.

He stayed silent while stretching out on his back, his head resting on your lap. You smiled down at him while one hand dipped cloth into the water and squeezed out the excess.

“You don’t have to do anything. I’ve got you.” You were gentle and careful when lifting his head slightly to place the cool cloth over the back of his neck. He winced at the movement regardless, making you frown. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” He murmured, but you still felt a pang of guilt.

The second cloth now wrung out, you folded it and placed it over his eyes. When he melted deeper into the couch with a sigh, you grinned triumphantly. That part out of the way, you pressed two fingers, gently but firmly, against each of his temples and began massaging the area. You could feel the pulsing there, so too much would not be beneficial. You began to alternate between that and carefully scratching your fingernails over his scalp to stimulate blood flow.

After no more than five minutes, before you even needed to rewet the cloths, he was softly snoring on your lap. Still, you continued, determined to make sure the headache was gone before stopping.

An hour later, you had removed the cloths and stopped massaging. Your fingers carded idly through his hair as he slept. He had turned onto his side and pressed his face into your stomach, not a single line of pain left showing.

Daryl so seldom got to relax that seeing him like that and just being able to take it all in was something you found you wanted to do over and over again. Maybe you’d start being more appreciative of the time you could spend watching him sleep in the moonlight from the bedroom window. You knew that was going to be your new favorite bedtime ritual.

A deep breath drew you from your thoughts and back to him, his eyes fluttering but barely opening.

“Thanks, sunshine.” He whispered against your shirt, back asleep before you could reply.

“Anytime, love. Anytime.”

@thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @feral4daryl @deansapplepie @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @callmeyn @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @gutsby @isakyakiisak @in-this-minute @eljaynosine_triphosphate @abbyreedus @wifeof-barnes @bigbaldheadname @bananafire11 @graciepies @georgiadixon @esgoraths @hutchersonsgurl @she-could-never @Kenzimae67 @nessa-mayfield @ilovedilfs4eversthings @KatelynAngel @richardsamboramylove55 @m0ss-g0blin @annhells @abi67sblog @nessieart @imgeorgeclooney @brinteylovesaliens @eduardast4rgirl @ass-butt-themusical @daryldixmedown @willowaftxn83-87 @ashtonbabe @atyourmomshouse01 @dixonzzgirl @unhingedbiatch @bultamer @lumimon47 @easystreet07

#whumpuary2024 #whumpuaryno9 #headache #alt prompt #the walking dead #fic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #murda writes #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon walking dead #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl

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chrissy-kaos · 1 year

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If we're too masculine then we're disgusting freaks. They collect the most masculine of us - innocent women minding their own business trying to live a life that was denied to them - and mock us, openly discussing how nobody could ever love us, how nobody could be fooled that we're women.

If we're too feminine then we're stupid men. They find the most tone deaf quotes from trans girls, usually those who have been out for only months if they're out at all. They find these quotes of girls still learning how to be women, post them everywhere as proof that we are just pantomime caricatures of women.

If we are too strong then we are violent and dangerous. We are an unfair factor in sport, evil men just trying to steal victories from real women. We could lose our temper at any moment. We are a risk that cannot be tolerated. If we're too weak then we are to be mocked. They call us failed men who ran to womanhood because we couldn't take it. We're victims of our own masculinity. Poor feminine men to be saved... In the same way that Republicans want to save those 'poor unborn babies.'

If we lose our temper we're back to dangerous men. But if we cry, if our shoulders buckle under the weight of endless, endless, ENDLESS, ENDLESS, ABUSE. Then they mock us again. They share pictures of trans women crying and laugh over it. Of course they make sure to find the pictures where our stubble is showing, our makeup has already run. It's not the way that women are mocked for weakness; it's the way men are. They find videos where are lips are trembling. Where our voice has gone deep because we don't have the energy to keep it at its heightened octave.

If we find ourselves ugly they mock us. But if we're happy with ourselves then we're disgusting degenerates. "Autogynephilic." Medicalized. They find the tweets of newly out girls who said something improper in their tiny moment of not guarding themselves. An awkward, amateurish attempt at roleplay or dirty talk becomes a meme. A woman who likely spent years growing the courage to begin sexual exploration, probably for the first time in her life, sees herself come up every so often in their replies, their threads, their gifs. What happens to these people? Is it even possible for them to ever resume that exploration?

We're trying to trick everyone into dating us. We should be required to show visible identification on us at all times; to be trans without the people around you knowing is deceit. But also, nobody would ever date us, everyone can tell, immediately, always. Everyone knows, the terfs say GLEEFULLY. Reveling in the idea that our subconscious is constantly telling us this. Basking in the thought of our depression and anxiety eating our minds until there's nothing left.

Even the terfs never stay the same for long. One moment it's a wall of 'concerned mothers' with all the passive-aggressive venom of a white woman calling the police because she doesn't want to put a leash on her dog; make ABSOLUTELY NO MISTAKE that these are the same people. The next it's anime-avatar alt righters. The next it's puritanical Christians claiming we are the natural result of the "rainbow agenda." It's lesbians saying that we're destroying lesbianism, following right on the heels of a pastor saying that anything that isn't a man and a woman is unnatural.

Half the URLs are Mumsnet and half are Kiwifarms. How many are bots? Sock puppets? How many really are just transphobic housewives accessing Kiwifarms from their phones? How many took the full plunge? The answer to all of the above is, we don't know, but it's a whole lot more than zero.

Every time we go into a bathroom, there's a chance we'll be the next screen shot pasted over reddit. It doesn't matter whether it's the men's or women's. They are equally unsafe.

If we need a women's shelter, we flip a coin on whether the person running it has already decided she hates us, because of these people.

We cannot upload a picture to facebook without this risk.

We cannot post about our lives without this risk.

We cannot appear at our work without this risk.

We cannot exist without this risk.

Every possible action we could take will be judged. There is no outcome that isn't negative. There is nothing we can do that isn't negative. Masculinine, feminine, pretty, ugly, angry, sad, sexual, frigid, proud, ashamed, strong, weak. Pre-op, post-op, non-op. Vagina, ovaries, chromosomes, fertility: womanhood is defined as whatever we aren't in that particular context.

I don't want to think about how many people this has killed. To call it a moving goal-post is inept, it is a void, an endless mass of hatred that follows us no matter what we do. Nothing is good enough. Everything, every single thing, is just waiting to be weaponized against us.

It has killed so, so many.

It won't kill any more.

If you're trans and you're reading this you already know everything I said. We've lived through it. You already know that I've spent time as all of the above because you have too. That when I get SIX HUNDRED COMMENTS calling me a man I want to swing my fists and I want to cry and I want to curl into a ball and I want to scream and I want to end my own miserable existence. The ugly beautiful girl in the mirror is so angry and sad and prideful and ashamed and violent and passive and this constant stream of abuse has torn me apart and created so many ugly things in this mind but if there is ONE. FUCKING. THING. THAT. THEY. WILL. NOT. MAKE. ME.

It is dead.

I will live. I will survive. And I don't even care about justice anymore. These people will get away with all this. Somewhere in that mix of the trans population and the infamous 40% number is a figure of how many people they've killed, but they'd never care. I'll live because all of their jeering and mocking and gaslighting and those goddamn fucking insufferable legions of laugh reacts, they don't do a fucking thing.

That's all it comes down to in the end. It's hard and it's painful and it hurts, it just ENDLESSLY hurts to weather their blows. But my name is Alexia. I am a woman.

You can hurt me all you like, but that won't change, and you can die mad about it.

- Lindwyrm Weisseritter

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yanderes-galore · 11 months

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Yandere (TFA) Swindle with a human mechanic darling that tries to fix him up after a run in with the autobots? Darling has no idea he's a robot and just thinks hes a neat, beat up, car

Sure! Using his alt-mode without the huge gun because... well... that gives it away, doesn't it? As always I hope I get the character right ^^

Note: I struggled with the ending yet I think it turned out okay despite that :)

Yandere! TFA! Swindle Concept

Yandere! TFA! Swindle with Human! Mechanic! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Transformer/Human, Forced partnership, Kidnapping, Stalking, Manipulation/Threats, Violence, Attempted murder/implied murder.

As a mechanic the opportunity to see different models of cars always excites you.

It's not everyday you see an armored vehicle to fix up.

Let alone one in such strange colors.

Do these types of cars typically have purple windows?

You assume it must be a custom.

Even then, the vehicle looks so beat when you come across it.

What's even weirder was it was just left for you to find at your mechanic shop (or house if you decide to work from home).

There was no owner in sight.

Just a broken down car, sitting in front of you, as though it was waiting.

You had no idea about the concept of Cybertronians.

To you this was just a rare armored vehicle custom model.

One that you were excited to attempt to fix.

You have no idea that this car is a Cybertronian Decepticon named Swindle.

Swindle thought there might be a chance to use a human like you to fix his scuffed armor plating.

Those Autobots really dinged him up.

When Swindle saw you in his vehicle mode he thought you were such a small thing.

All humans were small and weak yet part of him found it cute.

He tucks away this thought as his only concern was using you to help himself.

He didn't think a human like you would know what to do at first.

He can tell you've worked with vehicles yet he hoped you didn't notice much of his Cybertronian biology-

Swindle also wasn't sure if he should feel disgusted or think it's funny at your excitement with fixing him.

He isn't entirely put off by humans touching him.

The thought of disgust actually starts to fade when he notices how soft you are with fixing his parts.

It actually feels... pleasant when you study his parts and try to find new ones to fix them.

You get rid of the dents, swatch some paint colors, and crawl over him to look for any other damage.

It... tickles, honestly!

It only takes you a few days to fix him up.

Although you nearly get suspicious a few times at the strange tech he's armed with.

This vehicle doesn't feel normal....

You expect it to disappear after you've fixed it, just like how it's mysteriously appeared before you.

As you expect, the car's gone the next day.

Meanwhile Swindle marks the location of your business/home for later events.

If he's injured again then he'll come to you.

As long as it isn't anything too serious as of now.

This meet up kick starts a strange series of growing thoughts in Swindle.

Out of every human he's met you're probably one of the most useful.

He actually feels pretty good after your work.

The new paint job feels nice, too.

He actually wants to go back.

In fact, he does!

He goes back many times, much to your confusion.

It's not even just to get fixed up, either.

He just... pops by, sometimes.

Maybe he circles around the block at times...

Maybe he sends you letters he gets other humans to write by making a deal (he would do it himself if he could).

He shows gratitude for what you do for him.

He actually enjoys you checking up on him.

You, on the other hand, are beyond confused and a bit frightened.

The more you work on him, the more you notice things you shouldn't.

Why is this vehicle so armed with weapons?

Is it military?

Who does this belong to?

Why did they choose YOU to fix it up?

You may be thinking, are you doing this all for free?

At first you were just out of interest... but now money just shows up at your damn door.

Swindle respects you and gives you currency to pay for his repairs.

He is one for deals, after all.

There will come a point you get suspicious of the car to the point you try to call the cops about a suspicious vehicle.

Swindle realizes he needs to rush his obsession over you at this point.

For the past few, what is it on Earth, months...?

For the past few months he's been watching what you do.

At first he planned on taking you with him because you're so useful.

Now he wonders if his intrigue is more about keeping you as a human pet than your useful traits.

Which is why when he has human cop cars following him everywhere he realizes he should probably hurry.

As much as he hates the idea of it.

The cops can't stop Swindle.

He'd most likely blow them up with one of his many weapons.

Again, humans are weak to him, it's funny how they TRY to be a threat.

His next stop is picking you up.

Which occurs when he drives into your shop, making a disgruntled you come out to take a look.

Just who is this guy!?

Then he snatches you up like a toy, shoving you into his vehicle mode and speeding off.

His seat belts ensnare you into his seats as you cry and scream.

Finally, it is done.

"I know it's jarring, trust me I was going to properly introduce myself later but you forced my hand." He'd say to you, tracking a location to bring you.

"The name's Swindle, the armored vehicle you've been working on? Got to tell you... you do some nice work. I feel great whenever you finish. So great I thought I'd take you with me!"

"What the hell!? What are you? Where are you taking me!?"

"So many questions, let's take this slow. I'm a Decepticon, an alien to you. As for where I'm taking you..."

The belts squeeze you tighter when you try to reach around the vehicle for a chance to escape.

"I'm taking you to my ship. Out of all the fleshy humans here, you're the most useful in my eyes. An arms dealer such as me gets into trouble at times. Plus... you could say you've grown on me."

"Let me out!"

"Or what? You'll call more of those cops? They didn't help you before."

"I have a family, please..."

"Let's make a deal..." The Decepticon says bitterly. "You come with me willingly and I promise to leave your family be! It should only be just us anyway. Haven't you spent more time working on me than with your family anyways? I thought I made you excited, dear!"

You stay silent at that, tears pricking your eyes as your breathing grows uneven.

"Don't cry, baby... I promise you'll get much richer with me. I'll even provide you great company...!"

Swindle can try to comfort you all he wants but it most likely won't work.

Even when he takes you onto a ship he managed to barter for and shows you his robot form, you still close yourself off.

Swindle is willing to wait for you to open up.

Sometimes you have to be patient when making a deal, right?

Swindle thinks with time you'll be happy with him.

Why stick to such a boring human life when you can stay beside him...

Business awaits, dear... quite possibly in more ways than one.

#yandere transformers #yandere transformers animated #yandere tfa swindle

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thenamesblurrito · 7 months

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here's an assortment of guys, some SNAP counterparts to AutoAca characters by @stonecrusherproductions, for part of an art trade

this isn't Hot Shot's first time off Caminus. he's gone on a few trips to Velocitron to see the races and even stopped by Devisiun once to visit family, but he's never been to Cybertron before! he's more interested in exploring the streets, hanging out with friends like Lightbright, or snacking on JaAm than completing homework, but he can usually speed through it at the last second. the JAAT is the perfect school in his mind, giving him extracurricular opportunities like sports so he can burn off some of his high energy. it's certainly a relief to his roommates Aileron, Stardrive, Quickstrike, and Maxima when he's no longer bouncing off the walls!

Lightbright is so excited, she's never left Caminus before, and oh isn't Cybertron lovely? what a wonderful school she gets to attend! and what delightful people she's gotten to befriend, like Sparkstalker! most of her roommates are lovely, but even she gets irritated by Sentinel sometimes. she's also fascinated by the heroes running around, and sometimes she and Hot Shot will procrastinate their work just to watch the supernatural drama unfolding. the only thing she's disappointed by is the lack of easy access to bodies of water, as she grew up near one of Caminus's seas and often took a relaxing swim in her submersible hovercraft alt mode

it's only a matter of time before Glyph tries camping out in the JAAT library again, despite how often Alpha Trion has chased her off before. her home in Polyhex never had this much information freely available to someone like her! when she first passed the exams, she agonized over whether she should attend the JAAT or elect to take part in an exchange program to a colony planet like her friends Lancer and Greenlight, but she's glad of her decision now. there's so much to learn here! it's easier to stick with data than meet new people thanks to her shyness around strangers. she'll even avoid her roommates Quickslinger, Sunder, Vortex, and Sceptre, but she thinks she can count fellow student Tap-Out as a friend now, probably?

Side Burn doesn't even remember taking the exams, but somebody told him he passed, so here he is! and wow, what a cool Academy this place is! it gets him a front row seat to awesome hero beatdowns and brawls, what's not to love? his grades have been, uh, bad, but that's fine, the counselor says he probably has some mental thing that makes it hard to focus, so it can't be his fault. he's too busy ogling all his gorgeous scarlet classmates to care about whatever the teachers are saying, no matter the fact they're offput by his juvenile antics and sometimes the odd look of his prosthetic left optic. while coming all the way from the Overdrive Compact in Rodion might be a bit disconcerting to most, to him it's just another place to rise and grind

(Lightbright has a tail but she's not a beastformer! tails are somewhat normal for mecha like four arms or a centaur body, i just realized i've forgotten to give them to anybody except beastformers... so uh. i'll try to remember in the future oops)

#transformers #macaddam #transformers redesign #friend stuff #art trade #hot shot #lightbright #glyph #side burn #students

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blockgamepirate · 1 month

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(that post was so banger it finally made me register an alt) Honestly, you are so correct about L'Manberg

I remember regularly lurking around mcytblr and reading analysis and I think I only saw coherent L'Manberg nationalism analysis from, like, Xephyr and a c!Dream blogger/fan. Which is crazy in retrospect, because the ease with which most of the fandom leaned into fictional country hardcore patriotism was/is kinda insane

And the ensuing anti Doomsday stance -- like we all know that terrorism is bad and shit, but absolute refusal to acknowledge that maybe Doomsday trio and co were not punished by the narrative for having done that was because they were right was. sure something!

omg that's very flattering thank you :D

By Xephyr I assume you mean @considermygenderminecrafted ? Because yes, xe has some of the best L'Manburg critique out there, as well as some of the best c!Wilbur critique, everybody should absolutely check it out immediately (altho frustratingly, I just tried to find some of their posts as an example but Tumblr's search function is still absolute garbage (Xeph, do you have some of your great posts at hand and if so, can you just link some of them in the reblogs or something?))

And yes. There are valid criticisms that can be made of the Doomsday Trio's tactics (which even Techno himself sort of acknowledged later), but at the end of the day, they were on the right side of history

(Well Dream's character less so, but I can't even be bothered to try to analyse him at this point because none of his plans make sense to me)

Also nobody ever seems to acknowledge that Doomsday Trio were acting in self-defence, since L'Manburg had already gone after both Techno and Phil, and was at the time trying to kill Dream as well, although he kinda beat them to the punch (possibly because he already knew they were planning to kill him? idk, I'm not sure if that was ever confirmed or not)

But yeah, the argument about them needing to be punished by the narrative was always absurd to me, and it just betrays the fandom's belief that L'Manburg was supposed to be objectively good, despite all the evidence that it very much was not, not even to its own citizens! And possibly also the unquestioned assumption of "state good, anarchy bad"

Meanwhile the actual narrative repeatedly shows that L'Manburg always ends up becoming toxic, corrupt and ultimately oppressive, even under the Good President, while on the other hand the anarchist commune eventually turns into a sanctuary for all sorts of people who need a safe place to stay (even arguably the aforementioned former Good President when he needs somewhere to hide his son from kidnappers)

And yeah, this is why I did get pretty heated about some of the debates at the time, and I kinda still do, because in the process of assuming that L'Manburg was always the good guys, they ended up repeatedly justifying just absolutely horrific state violence as well as excusing early L'Manburg's xenophobia (as comedic as it initially was), which unfortunately mirrors a lot of real world authoritarianism and xenophobia

To be fair a lot of this was probably also protagonist-centric morality, since most of these people also saw the L'Manburg side as the main characters, but then again what is nationalism if not a form of protagonist-centric morality where you see your own country as the protagonist of the world lol

I might actually need to make a proper post now since multiple people have shown interest, unfortunately I'm also very lazy and kinda made my main points in that low effort post already

Which would mean that it would actually have to be a high effort post to justify its existence

#asks #hopemadethisaccforsendingasks

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maniculum · 3 months

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Bestiaryposting Results: Blisheag

We've got another bird this week, but it looks like people are having fun with it, so let's see what came out of it.

As usual, if you're not sure what this is about, you can see previous material at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting and follow stuff as it's posted at the tag maniculum bestiaryposting.

The entry our artists are working from this week can be seen here:

Roughly chronological order under the cut, &c. &c., you know how this works.

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) notes that the translation choosing to say "bill" instead of "beak" makes them think of ducks, and furthermore how that seems a bit odd that we have these two very similar terms, acknowledge that some birds have beaks and some have bills, and then don't really think about it. That's a pretty interesting point -- I'm tempted to take some time to look up whether there is a defined difference, but I have a post to write and other Tasks waiting in the wings, so please, if you know what that's about, let us know. The line that the Blisheag is an enemy to snakes naturally brought the secretary bird to mind, so here we see it trampling a snake with its talons. (Some of our other artists also made the connection to secretary birds and their practice of stomping snakes -- it's interesting to me that this is apparently a part of Tumblr's collective consciousness.) Also, the coloration is based on the American black duck, which Silverhart describes as "quite a handsome duck", and I have to say the color pattern is pretty nice.

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) has also gone for large talons for stomping snakes, and in the absence of any specific physical details, decided to have some fun with it. I like the choice to give it a turkey-like body and tail combined with a long neck like a flamingo. Sweetlyfez also included the detail in the entry that the Blisheag loses its feathers while diligently incubating its nest, giving it a bald neck and head. I think the effect is kind of charming -- it kind of evokes a flamingo, but since that's bald skin rather than pink feathers, it would probably look closer to a vulture in person.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) has given us a whole group (they helpfully inform us that the collective noun is a "lance") of Blisheags attentively listening to a crow who is perched on a stump. I really like this interpretation of them following crows as guides -- like it's not just an instinctive behavior but they're actively in collaboration with the crows somehow and take verbal direction from them. Something really clever here that's easy to miss if you don't know what you're looking for -- which is why you should make a practice of reading Cheapsweets's linked posts, as they tend to include detailed explanations -- is how they've interpreted the details that describe the Blisheags making creaking & clashing noises and following the crows like an army. Look at those varied head shapes on the different Blisheag subspecies: they're patterned after different styles of knights' helmets. Also, I'd like to thank Cheapsweets for providing their own alt text, and acknowledge that I of course noticed the Stylized Trees.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) has as usual done some delightful medieval stylization in this week's art. (And provided their own alt text, thank you.) Something I think is really clever here is how she's interpreted "enemies of snakes" as combined with "fly across the sea" -- obviously, when they're migrating, they have to deal with being menaced by sea serpents. Brilliant. As for the actual birds, we see them following crows of course, and apparently in the absence of physical description, Coolest-capybara decided to pattern them after a depiction of a bird in an old church window; if you want to see the window, you should check out the linked post. It's a good bird design, I think.

@pomrania (link to post here) also thought "secretary bird" and decided to run with it. They mention going a bit Seussian in design, and I think it really works. (Also apparently the crow is patterned after the "Crow Time" comics, which Cheapsweets also namechecked, so I suppose I should go look at those at some point.) Aside from the delightfully whimsical look of the bird in general, I think the really clever part of the design is those little round bumps on the end of its beak. They also noted the description of the Blisheag making noise by clashing its bill, and decided to give it a bill that's adapted to making noise -- they describe it as a "roseate spoonbill crossed with a tambourine". I love it.

@strixcattus (link to post here) notes the lack of specific detail but has drawn this ibis-esque bird with a very good curved beak. The gold here is in the description Strixcattus provides to remedy the "lack of detail" problem, which includes more on the nesting practices alluded to in the entry and an explanation of how it hunts snakes -- since, of course, it is the enemy of snakes, as we know. Again, you need to go read all of the worldbuilding naturalist posts Strixcattus has done for this exercise; they're delightful and very well thought out. Also, I think this drawing is the closest to the real bird, so let's go ahead and transition to...

... the Aberdeen Bestiary version. (Note: this time around I straight-up forgot what bird this was supposed to be when I sat down to do this post, but luckily I made a spreadsheet back when I started this that I was able to reference.)

Yep, those are definitely storks. Pretty recognizable depiction, I'd say. Frog looks oddly happy with being caught here.

The migration habits of storks are actually something that comes up in other medieval texts. Pretty sure they're just guessing with "Asia" here; medieval Europeans didn't really know where storks went. The version I like best is in the tradition that includes the Old English Wonders of the East, wherein we are informed that storks are only birds when they summer in Europe -- when they're back home for the winter, they take humanoid form. Really. The text in the Wonders of the East is as follows (translation mine):

There are men born who are 15 feet tall, & they have white bodies & two noses on one head. Their knees are very red, their noses long, and their hair black. When they wish to give birth, they travel on ships to India, and there bring their kin into the world.

Doesn't sound like it's talking about storks? There's a reason for that. The Wonders of the East is actually a great example of Manuscript Telephone. Ann Elizabeth Knock, in her dissertation "Wonders of the East: a synoptic edition of the Letter of Pharasmanes and the Old English and Old Picard translations" (which you can get a PDF version of at this link here), gives us the following view of the original version:

Men are born there with long legs. They are very tall, 12 or 15 feet. They [or, in some versions, just their arms] are white. Their faces are divided. They have red feet. The head is round; they have long noses and black shoulders. At a certain time, they transform into birds. As birds, they breed in [an area familiar to the reader of the Letter]; you call them storks.

The Wonders of the East lost the stork aspect in transmission -- the next entry in the Wonders starts with "There is a land in Gaul called Ciconia", which is the end of the above version being accidentally attached to the next bit and reinterpreted. Ciconia is Latin for "stork", and the version the scribe was copying from probably named Gaul as the area where they went to breed.

(Similarly, traveling on ships in the Wonders of the East is probably a confusion of navis 'ship' and avis 'bird'.)

For more on the Wonders of the East, we did a three-part episode on it back in March 2021, and I later wrote up a summary of the differences between the text we used and Knock's reconstructions at this link here. (Very much summarized, Knock's work is lengthy & detailed & a surprisingly good read for an absolute doorstopper of a dissertation.)

#maniculum bestiaryposting #blisheag

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favcharacterpoll · 7 months

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ROUND 5 MATCH 16: LINK VS. NICO

Link from BotW/TotK faces Nico di Angelo from the Riordanverse. Who do you like more?

Link Propaganda:

"i love this guy"

"I love him so much, okay? He's the only person capable of wielding the Master Sword, bears the Triforce of Courage, and was chosen by the goddess Hylia to protect Hyrule"

"Pretty boy"

"ok so link is like the best character ever imo cause have you seen what he looks like in totk he's so gender and ahhh and he's really cool and I love him so so much <333 and oot link is really cool and he's my whole childhood, and I love skyward sword and wind waker link cause they're so expressive, and I love twilight princess wolf link I just love all versions of link so much<3 only exception is the version from the philips cdi games he's so goofy" (focus on the totk part of this one)

"link is THE Gender Envy icon pretty boy pretty boy with sword!!"

Nico Propaganda:

"autism"

"YOU KNOW WHAT. if autism isn't enough to compel you to VOTE NICO then i will write this.

ok so he's gay & european (like the legally blonde song) and also a goth. we love our goths here on tumblr right?!

first i need to provide you a visual. please imagine a small italian boy. now imagine that small italian boy going through a time machine hotel casino in vegas, some wack crazy traumatic incidents, becoming an alt/emo kid and being so fucking powerful that even gods show a little more respect to him than others...

nico has gone through literal hell TWICE !! one time it was VOLUNTARY !! and all the while he was probably experiencing said hell in its most terrifying form. this shows us his mental resilience and selflessness are incredibly strong traits of his and that maybe he should stop being a reckless bitch but whatever !!!!!!

tumblrinas listen up... nico was the first canon lgbt+ character created by rick riordan in the chb chronicles (i am not counting all the other gods, goddesses, minor deities and other figures of greco-roman myth). he was the trailblazer. his story didn't end in tragedy, but he found friendship and love and family, which in this age of upsetting "bury your gays" media is still quite hopeful to read!!

nico has a sunshine bf who would literally walk through hell with him!! i'm not kidding. this actually happened. i'm sure he's definitely cheering from the sidelines somewhere... please do not let will solace down!!

did i mention nico's the son of hades, god of the underworld?? this means his powers include, but are not limited to, being able to communicate with spirits via mcdonalds happy meals, wielding a sword that rends souls asunder, turning people into ghosts, re-animating skeletons, shadow traveling and being able to read other people's death auras.

these powers and his terrifyingly grumpy personality (in earlier books) have created a reputation famous among the demigods and deities. also he literally summons an entire skeleton army and rises from the fucking underworld with his father, stepmother and step-grandmother (all gods) (how does this work) in tow, inspiring FEAR and PANIC among the enemy lines.

and if that's not enough, he's friends with lizard people, his signature items of clothing are a BIG AVIATOR JACKET + SKULL RING = VERY GOOD CHARACTER DESIGN and his hair canonically smells like rain on stone. just so you know

VOTE NICO VOTE NICO VOTE NICO !!!!!!!!!!!"

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

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sunflower, chapter three

summary: After realisation hits her, Y/n gets quite the reaction when Spencer shows up at her door.

warnings: talking to a therapist, hyperfixation, unintentionally skipping meals, finding feelings overwhelming, going nonverbal, crying, hands hands hands, painting like Jackson Pollock, alternative way to communicate, handholding, hugging

word count: 1876

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“-and he’s so nice and smart, and we even joked a bit about him not being able to cook, so he should come to eat breakfast with me,” you tried your best to get out past your schoolgirl giggle.

“So, you like this Spencer?” Anna asked with a smile.

“Yeah, he’s a really great neighbour.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Oh, no, I mean, sure he’s really pretty and nice and stuff, but I don’t like him like that,” you said franticly.

You didn’t like him like that, right? Did you like him as a person? Yes. Did you find him attractive? Well, of course! Who wouldn’t? but that didn’t mean you were in love with him or anything… oh my god, were you in love with him? Spencer Reid? Your incredibly handsome neighbour? Were you?

Looking down at your lap, you thought out loud, “how would I even know if that’s how I feel?”

You hadn’t really ever liked someone, well, of course, there was the obligatory celebrity crush, but never on anyone real. Sure, you had kissed a few people growing up, but that was always so awkward. The way Spencer made you feel, you hadn’t experienced that with anyone. It was overwhelming and it scared you. He was your neighbour, for god sake! You couldn’t just ask your neighbour out? He’d probably say no and then you’d have to coexist in all that awkwardness, and you didn’t want that. If your next-door neighbour suddenly couldn’t stand being near you anymore, then you’d have to move, you definitely didn’t want that, you really liked your new place, it was so comforting and quiet.

“I, um, he’s just a friend, not even, he’s just my next-door neighbour. Nothing more,” you said less so to your therapist and more just in a way to convince yourself.

Your movements almost looked like you were in a fight with the canvas, as you stood there, splattering dark tones onto the already finished painting.

When you had gotten home after your meeting with Anna, that painting, the one over your couch, the one Spencer had been so fixated on, had been staring at you. You used to love the calming waves of its nature motif, but today, something had changed. Every time you saw it out the corner of your eye it stung. All you could see was him. His awestruck face starring at it.

So now, here you were. Loud alt-rock blasting and covering up the once beautiful landscape.

Deep down you knew that altering this thing he so clearly liked wouldn’t change the realization you had earlier. You liked Spencer. You couldn’t like him, but you did anyway.

Tearing your eyes away from your work for the first time in ages, you saw that the sun had gone down. You hadn’t even eaten dinner. Your body had gone almost completely numb, not letting you feel the signs of hunger and too focused on the task at hand to take a moment to register.

The bass of the song playing grew, but after a moment, it almost sounded like your name was being called. Wait, that wasn’t coming from the song. You turned the volume down a bit to listen.

Someone was knocking on your door. Who was knocking on late at night? You couldn’t recall any plans you had tonight with Stevie, so whom could it be?

“Y/n?” a voice called, muffled from behind the door.

Your body tensed up. Fuck. It was Spencer. Why on earth was he here? God, just get it together, Y/n, just go open the door. Move your body, please.

“Are you alright?”

Taking a few deep breaths, then a quick nod, you swiftly opened the door.

Arm raised, amidst knocking, there he stood. The sleeves of his light blue shirt were rolled all the way up to his elbows, revealing his surprisingly toned forearms. The sight of him almost made you lose your train of thought.

“Spencer,” you breathed out, “what, um, what are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry, but your music was kinda loud, not that it was bothering me or anything, it’s not that, I just, um, it made me slightly worried, that maybe there was something wrong?” he stammered, then looked down at the ground, “I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

God, if it wasn’t clicking before, seeing him here now, of course, you liked him. Fuck, why did you have to like him?

Looking up at you again, worry-filled his eyes, “oh no, I truly am really sorry that I bothered you. Please don’t cry.”

Reaching up to feel your cheek, it was indeed wet. When did that happen? “I, um, I’m fine,” your voice shook, trying to calm him, though not very convincingly.

“Y/n,” he breathed out, “I really am sorry. I don’t care that your music was loud, really, turn it up more if you’d like.”

The sound of his voice did nothing to stop the steady flow coming from your eyes.

Taking a step inside, he grasped your hand in his, the feeling making you shut your eyes. “What do you need?” he whispered in a soothing voice. “Do you want me to leave or is it not a good idea for you to be alone right now?”

Parting your lips to answer, no sound escaped them, only a shaky breath. Closing and opening your mouth a few times, seeing if it just needed to be warmed up, but no. Nothing.

Squeezing Spencer’s hand tighter, you opened your flickering eyes. Running his thumb over your shaky knuckles, he lowered his head a bit to be at your level and repeated his question, “do you want me to go?”

No, of course, you didn’t want him to go. It was bittersweet, but you didn’t want him to leave, even if his presence only hurt you. So, you shook your head.

He turned to close the door behind him, your arm followed him as he never let go of your hand.

Casting your vision up towards your ceiling, you heard his voice again, “do you wanna sit down?”

Answering his question with another squeeze, he gently dragged you over to your couch, using both of his hands on you to help you sit down.

Situated beside you, his thumb never ceasing its calming patterns on the back of your hand, “what can I do?”

Opening your mouth to speak again, you didn’t need to try for that long to know it was abundantly clear no sound was going to escape your lips, so instead, you waved your free hand in front of you, bringing it up to tap your throat a few times, all the while keeping your gaze anywhere but on him.

“Okay,” it came out more like a whisper, “that’s okay, Y/n.”

Noticing your sketchpad on the coffee table, you pointed to it. Him being a genius and all, he got the message immediately and handed it to you.

Taking the pencil out that you had stuck down the spine, you flipped it open with your free hand, finding an empty page.

I’m sorry.

Taking a pause, you let him read your wobbly handwriting, with an inhale of breath he replied, a bit of guilt tinging his voice, “don’t be, please. I feel terrible about bothering you. I’m so, so sorry.”

Sometimes this just happens, talking becomes really hard.

Not saying anything, he just held on tighter to your hand with a sense of understanding.

Taking a second to think about what you needed in that moment, your eyes fell to your interlocked fingers. His hand looked so big compared to yours. You turned them slightly to get a better view of it. Piano fingers, as you’d always called them, long, thin, and elegant. The back of his hand didn’t just have one or two prominent veins popping out, but it was more akin to the way a windowpane looked when the rains pouring down and leaving streaks of water, dancing down the glass. Fuck, they were pretty. Just like the rest of him. They were like art.

Just then, an idea struck you. Adjusting the sketchbook in your lap, you started to draw them, eyes flickering from the page and up to glance at his hold on you.

He didn’t move a muscle, just sat there, watching you, in silence.

After a while, you finished the doddle. Leaning back against the couch, you closed your eyes and tried to let your body relax.

Deep breath in, and out. Rinse and repeat.

Peeking out one eye, you looked up at the man beside you, every bit of his attention glued on you. Turning your almost vertical body to him, tugging your feet up, you stared at him, taking your time to notice every little detail of his face.

He shifted his body to mirror yours, picking your hand up with both of his, he brought it up in front of his face.

Concentrating as hard as you could, you tried to say something, anything. Audible breaths turned into quiet moans and then finally into something resembling a word in the English language. It was just a whisper, gravely and unclear, but you did it.

“Hi.”

He let out a sigh of relief, visibly losing the weight on his shoulders, “hi,” he choked out.

“Hi,” you echoed, the exhaustion suddenly hitting you at once. “That was fast. It usually takes a lot longer to come back…”

A shaky breath escaped Spencer’s lips as he let his eyes squeeze shut. Bringing your hand up to his lips, he gave it a small peck as a tear rolled down his cheek. Raising your free hand to wipe it away, you whispered, “I’m okay, this was actually pretty tame comparatively. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

His bottom lip quivered, “no, it’s-, I’m just… I’m glad you’re okay,” opening his big misty eyes, he asked, “can I give you a hug?”

Nodding in response, he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you. You nestled your head into his shirt, breathing in his scent, and feeling his fingers spread out, trying to cover as much of your body as possible.

Feeling new tears well up in your eyes, you tried not to enjoy the comforting moment too much. So, this is what it feels like when people say they’ve got it bad. Fuck, you liked him. You really liked him. What the fuck were you gonna do?

Pulling away, you sniffled, “what time is it?”

Looking down at the silver watch on his wrist, “11:54.”

He then looked back at you, holding your gaze for what felt like ages, until you broke it, “I should properly head off to bed…”

“Yeah,” he agreed slowly, “I’ll go.”

And with that, you both stood up and walked towards the door. Opening it, he stopped in his tracks and turned around.

“Hey, do you maybe wanna come over for a cup of tea tomorrow morning? Just so that I can be sure you made it through the night okay.”

Biting your lip to hide the small smile his request triggered, you answered sleepily, “sure.”

“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he offered a small smile, “goodnight, Y/n.”

“Night, Spencer.”

next chapter

#sunflower #lea’s writing #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid series #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid angst

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hildred-rex · 5 months

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LXGF Reread 2023-11-20

To make an analysis post I am currently rereading what is shaping up to be the entirety of LXGF.

This has gotten incredibly long, so I'm burying it under a readmore.

I love the bit of dramatic irony here. I think it's technically spoilers which bit is the dramatic irony, but just trust me, it's great.

The wham shot of Mina's teeth is so good. And coupled with "We have some experience with such matters."...

From this page: The supportive hand on Irene's shoulder. The supportive hand on Irene's shoulder. And Irene really looks haunted in the "An explanation would be welcome" panel. Everything from the angle she's looking to the shadows under her eyes to her interlaced hands. I just want to give her a hug.

Bam. The king. (Isn't looking quite himself, is he?) I remember I shuddered when I first read this page and came to this panel.

The king continues to look very bad on the last panel of this page. (TW scopophobia and disturbing imagery.) And the color. It's so subtle you almost don't notice it the first time, just that something about the page seems slightly off. It's very effective, even at that level. And then when you do notice it... Nothing in this comic is in color. Everything is sepia-toned. That's the way things should be. But the dead King Wilhelm von Ormstein has yellow eyes.

VAN HELSING! And it nails how he talks in the book! (Having tried to write him, it's harder than it looks.) Not to mention the joy in my heart upon continuing my left-to-right scan of the panel and seeing QUINCEY MORRIS!

I've skipped a bunch here because I'm supposed to be focusing on Griffin and haven't even gotten to him yet but Art—

JONNO EYES (not sepia. I repeat: not sepia.)

I forgot how much I loved our introduction to Dorian.

And then we actually meet him (and see Paul Lessingham, the Politician, the Statesman—thank you, alt text!). He's angelic when you focus only on him, but when you look at him in context (in the panel with Basil) he's... less so. Very well done!

Foreshadowing. (When something becomes not technically probably spoilers I have a very laudatory post about all this.) Also floppy Dorian lol

I love this page. Not only do we see Dorian purposely provoke Art (and then see Art react, showing off both of their characterss) we see—and I missed this the first time—some of the dynamic between Dorian and Basil. He jumps in to distract Art, despite being scared himself (and Dorian having earned it).

Awwh Basil looks so excited that someone's treating him kindly...

Dorian's stories from this page are all allusions to other things which have gone onto the "read soon" list.

The last panel of this page is so effective. (Its image description too!)

"boring filler headline" lol (and I enjoy the tags)

DETERMINED MINA PANEL 2! BLUSHING MINA PANEL 6! Also just Mina's outfit in general. (Also just the LXGF outfits in general. I love the little garlic flowers.)

Paranoid Kemp is done so well.

LXGF is very good at having very effective final panels. This one with the glass... It's very well composed (I think that's the word) and does a good job of displaying Irene's discomfort with the glass. (Here.)

It was introduced on the previous page, but here's the first time we get a good look at Jonnovision. My favorite cryptid solicitor.

On the next page there's more cryptidness (the speed), which I didn't notice my first time through. And his eyes are glowing in the first panel... And then the first expletive of the comic! Such a great way to properly introduce Griffin!

I love (in a sad way) how Griffin just caves in when he thinks about the murder. (Here.)

Griffin's whole first scene is incredible. I can't comment on all of it or this post would be several more miles long. Just go read it and imagine me vibrating with excitement and pointing at random bits and screaming.

Character growth for Jack! ...I'm now very sad.

The panel with Jonathan and the angelic smile and the giant knife is great.

I've been annotating over here less because we've gotten to the bit that I'm talking about in my actual post, but rest assured that I love it. Also, the yellow is brighter here. And the eye... I'll count myself lucky if that thing doesn't show up in my dreams tonight.

And the shot of the photo at the end here! The corruption happening to the king slowly coming to affect depictions of him... I love this for spoiler-related reasons.

Griffin's realization is both very well done and unaccountably hilarious to me.

Hel-lo Mr. Holmes!

He respects her change of surname! Better than a lot of adaptations... and the table lmao

He. He what. Also floomp.

Holmes's immediate concern for Mrs. Hudson warms my heart.

HOLMES AROACE COMING OUT SCENE!

Accurate VH voice is back—what the deuce are you two talking about?

his blood is yellow his blood is yellow (well really more like golden)

Also Jack looking panicked in the second panel is so well done.

Almost namedrop! And Griffin being a delight as always.

Hello Jekyll! Great to see you! I enjoy your almost alchemical-looking setup there.

The king is progressing...

Same page; I enjoy Jekyll and Hyde's designs. They have the same hairstyle, very similar noses, and the same style of eye; but they still look different enough that you probably wouldn't believe them if they said they were cousins.

"He is a horror of the un-dead." Line of dialogue, presented without comment.

The drawingsss...

The first panel of this page is absolutely stunning. So is everything else. So much that I wrote an analysis rant of it.

#analysis #league of extraordinary gentlefolk #for most of this reread I had JubyPhonic's translation cover of “YELLOW” stuck in my head #long post

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pochipop · 5 months

Text

＃KAZE TO KI NO UTA !! ♡ — I STEEP YOUR HEART IN MY CHAMOMILE TEA (SERGE X GILBERT).

#. synopsis! — serge will love gilbert until the day he dies .

#. characters! — serge x gilbert .

#. warnings! — angst, explicit mentions of death and canon-typical dark content .

#. word count! — 1.4k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — please accept my humble kazeki spotify playlist <3

It was never that Gilbert didn’t love Serge as much as Serge loved him. No, it wasn’t a matter of choice, or want, or desire, —it was a matter of possibility. By the time they met, it was much too late, although Serge never wanted to believe it. He was a smart young lad, but a child is always a child. And Gilbert was a child too, even if he didn’t seem it at times. They were doomed from the start; by the heavens, by God, by earthly forces and celestial ones alike. They were doomed by every season, by every whisper of wind, by every hand that had ever touched Gilbert’s aching frame, stealing more of him away.

When he met Serge, there was nothing left to give, no matter how badly he’d wanted to. He was a void, some cosmic hole of nothingness that sucked things in and never spat them out. He was broken, and tattered, and torn at every edge, —and he did love Serge for whatever that was worth, but in the end, it wasn’t much. Gilbert was living on Serge’s borrowed time, feeding off his warmth, pulling him under. . .

The sun sets upon another day, one that Gilbert never saw, and Serge sits alone in his room, dressed in clothes that don’t feel like his own. Because they aren’t. He’s always been more tall than he’s ever been proud, and this ruffled collar and gold-buttoned vest may have looked dashing on his father, but they swallow Serge up just like Gilbert used to; trading one prison for another.

At least when it was Gilbert’s doing, Serge felt more like himself.

But here he sits in this stuffy manor, brown eyes flickering across the ornate paintings hung about the room. They’re all trimmed in subtle bronze, carved into filligrous vines, and it’s all so melodramatic that it’s giving him a headache just staring at them. The art itself is expertly done, —mostly flowers and cabins stuffed somewhere off in the woods. For a moment, Serge thinks to himself that he should have run somewhere like that with Gilbert, somewhere they could have hidden themselves away from the world for as long as it took him to get well. Forever, maybe, if that’s what he needed.

It’s a pipedream now though. Gilbert is gone; has been gone for years, and yet Serge still finds himself thinking of him as if he were soon to walk through the door at any moment’s notice. He can’t eat chestnuts without tasting Gilbert’s burnt flesh on their surface, can’t sleep in any bed without the ghost of Gilbert’s arms encircling him, —and sometimes they’re softer than others, but they never change their size. Sometimes when he closes his eyes, Serge can still smell Gilbert on his sheets; one’s that he never even laid on. He hears his voice when he plays piano, humming along to the melodies he plays, —he feels him when the wind rustles, when the sun shines, and when rain takes over the skies.

If there’s one thing Serge knows for certain, it’s that Gilbert will live inside him for as long as it takes to make things right. He’ll apologize a million times for mistakes he never had the chance to make, and he’ll pour an extra cup of chamomile tea, even though Gilbert probably wouldn’t have liked it anyway.

He’ll sit and think far too often about how Gilbert would have grown in tandem with him, —getting taller, and warmer, and kinder, like Serge was melting ice in his palms. He’ll visit his grave and tell him about his days, even if he’s never really felt Gilbert there where his name is carved into marble and brownstone. He’s the only one who ever visits these days, and it would be a shame to let his resting place become some overgrown mound of weeds. Maybe Gilbert wouldn’t mind, but Serge does.

He’ll try not to cry as much as the days go by. Time hasn’t healed his wounds the way he thought it would, —but he’s not doing himself any favors with the way he digs his fingers around in them every morning, desperate to keep them festering like some metaphorical maw of devotion. It’s what Gilbert always did, picking at his cuts and his bruises to keep them around.

Serge will bleed on every inch of Lacombrade Academy, then on every stone on the streets of Paris, just as Gilbert would have wanted.

He’ll carry this guilt like a cross on his shoulders, —unadulterated and proud, each step heavy with the weight of remorse. Serge will lug this love like a burden and a gift from some forsaken savior, a constant companion, shaping to the contours of his soul, merging down to the muscle. This is where he feels closest to the writhing boy he lost to the rain and the mud and the horrors of his mind. This is where he feels Gilbert so strongly; in the sinews of his being, rotting on the inside but sickeningly sugar-coated.

He puts an extra cube of sugar in Gilbert’s tea and watches it dissolve, then takes a sip of his own.

It’s mild, —floral, and maybe it would be soothing if Serge allowed for it to be. He won’t, of course.

Shadows dance off the walls in the late evening light. The air is thick with melancholy, the kind that permeates the tea in Serge’s delicate porcelain cup. He almost smiles when a whisper of wind from the open window makes the curtains quiver and snuffs out the candlelight on the clothed table. Gilbert never did like romantic gestures. He preferred something raw and much less tangible, clawing at Serge until he came apart, just so he’d put him back together.

And he always did. . . Until he couldn’t. Serge always knew how to fix Gilbert; how to pull him in and soothe the ache, until the echoes got louder, until Gilbert got high enough to block them out, even when it came at the cost of blocking Serge out with them. At least he was delirious at the end. It’s a somber sort of comfort knowing Gilbert wasn’t in the right mind when it all came crashing down, —but more than that, it’s a reminder to Serge that it’s his solemn duty to keep those memories alive until he’s food for the worms to eat.

There wasn’t enough love in the world to save Gilbert from himself, and Serge has yet to reconcile with the bitter truth that he knew that all along. He’d known it from the moment they met in that claustrophobic dorm room when Gilbert came crashing in, teetering on the edge. It was only a matter of time before his sadness caught up to him. He was running from ghosts and the whispers of his mind, from the attention he craved and begged for, and found in the arms of whatever upperclassman or old, nasty man he could sink his teeth into for a night.

And Serge couldn’t kiss that away.

He couldn’t ever hold Gilbert tight enough, so he settled. He settled for the tanned hands brushing golden strands from his face, caressing him gently even when he begged to be hurt. He settled for whispered words against his neck instead of canines on his flesh, for big, brown, innocent eyes that were just so disgustingly kind. Gilbert settled for love when he wanted to be hurt.

Worst of all, he liked it.

He liked how Serge held his cheeks and kissed his tears away and how he always kept the promises he made.

Now, Serge sifts through memories of pale skin and lean muscle, —emerald eyes that never really had a spark. But heaven knows they were so, so pretty when Gilbert wanted them to be. His heart wanes like the humble moon, the ache of loss still ever-present, no matter where he goes. He lives with a chill that follows him wherever he ventures, undeterred by the warmth of his tender memories or the cup of quickly cooling tea in his palms.

Gilbert’s love was never perfect, and it never came without great costs, but Serge would have traveled to every end of the Earth to keep it. He’d have paid every prince imaginable just to pull him from the depths and breathe new life into his fragile lungs.

But it’s too late now. . . So Serge sits alone at this table, holding a cup of chamomile tea the way he once held both their hopes and sorrows. He clings to what he has left, —the reminders of what he lost and what he gained.

The last sip lingers like Gilbert’s lips always did on his collarbones, and Serge settles the empty cup back onto its saucer.

#gilbert cocteau #gilbert x serge #kaze to ki no uta #the poem of wind and trees #serge battour #gilbert cocteau x serge battour #kaze to ki no uta fanfic #serge x gilbert #serge battour x gilbert cocteau #kaze to ki no uta gilbert #kaze to ki no uta serge #kazeki #kazeki gilbert #kazeki serge #kazeki fanfic #kazeki gilbert x serge #kazeki serge x gilbert

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elvenbeard · 9 months

Text

2077, September

“I’m wondering if this is what Alt meant when she said Soulkiller would… kill my soul. Leave me nothing but a cluster of memories and thoughts… A blurry copy of myself, trapped in a body so adjusted to Johnny already that it would’ve been smarter to just – …”

Look at how far you've come. You're the King of the fucking Afterlife, a Night City legend... but as it is with Night City legends, they tend to die young.

Vince is 28 by mid-to-late 2077, every other person his age has so much to live for, to look forward to... yet his thoughts are still pre-occupied with the same problem they have been since April, just with a new twist: how the hell am I gonna survive my own body trying to kill me now?

He'd been told that Johnny would slowly wipe out his personality, his memories, his existence, but even with Johnny gone now, for good, an amicable separation in the end... Vince doesn't feel the same anymore. Is he even himself still? Or just a not-entirely-accurate copy of the Vince that once was? In the end, did he wipe himself out with the help of Alt and Soulkiller, without Johnny even having a fault in it so much?

Just like after Jackie's death, Vince cannot help but wonder: would it have been better the other way around? Should he have stayed back in Cyberspace, give Johnny a second chance, changed man that he was by then? But this body was Vince's, had always been, logically he knew it... But something was off, not quite the same anymore.

He has so much to fight for now, not even only abstract concepts like a good reputation or "being remembered" that he was so focused on at the start of all of this. In the chaos and hardship he found friends, love, forged connections he could have never dreamt of - in spite of and because of Johnny, and for that he's thankful.

He has so much to lose, more than ever. Giving up is not an option, has never been.

Vince through the years (8/9)

I mentioned many times before that I love the Sun ending cause it fits really well for Vince for many reasons. He's a good merc, but he'd make an even more amazing Fixer with his background, he's hella ambitious, smart, cunning, organised, and just.... hhhh everything!! But the Soulkiller thing still fucks me up so much everytime and the more I think about it. Anyone know the plot-twist of/played SOMA? Yeah... yeah. If you know, you know.

The one thing that always really bothered me about the Sun Ending though, is one of the last things he gets to say before the credits being "I have nothing left to lose" when... no, clearly not. We accept that the council has made a decision but it's a stupid decision! Blaming it on his nerves and not having a good time with Mr. B, distrusting his ass for good reasons, that he says that at that moment XD

That being said... I know everyone has a slightly differently timeline of events, and I wanted to share bits an pieces of mine in this context (still a wip more or less, but I have some set dates for certain events because I love angst).

Thursday, Nov. 5th 2076 -> meet Jackie at Lizzie's, booted from Arasaka

End of December -> First Gig with Jackie

[A lot of the early gigs for Regina and Wakako (but a few of the other Fixers, too), happen during the time of the 6-month-montage for my headcanon]

Sunday, April 4th 2077 -> "The Rescue"

Monday, April 5th 2077 -> "The Ride"

[preparations for the Konpeki Plaza heist in the following days - a bit more elaborate planning would be needed imo than what's shown in game, the Maelstrom meetup alone, esp. if you meet Meredith upfront, wouldn't be something Vince would do over the course of a fun afternoon]

Friday, April 16th 2077 -> Konpeki Plaza Heist, arrival at the hotel in the early afternoon

Saturday, April 17th -> V wakes up in the landfill in the evening

[stay at Vik's to recover - mostly from injuries sustained during the fights and the operation; since this is the future it would probably not be as long as we'd have to stay in hospital with today's medicine; I think V would also get more glimpses into Johnny's memories as he sleeps/dreams]

Tuesday, April 20th -> V is brought home and Johnny appears at night

Wednesday, April 21st -> Breakfast with Takemura xD

[over the course of the next few weeks everything up to "Play it Safe" happens, including the Hunt for Hellmann and the search for Evelyn and the Voodoo Boys; a lot of it is going on simultaneously, but helping Panam and going after Hellmann and such is something that would take at least 3-4 days with minimal travel inbetween - but V could for example talk to Mr. Hands while waiting for the Kang Tao AV to get the meetup with Brigitte scheduled and help Takemura while Evelyn is recovering, and so on.]

Mid-May 2077 -> Attack on the Parade in Japantown (the attack on the parade and the few quests that follow with Takemura's safehouse and V and Johnny escaping to the Motel etc. all happen over the course of 12ish hours in my head, cause it wouldn't make sense to trail off doing gigs or other stuff while Takemura and Hanako sit there and wait super on-edge XD)

Friday, May 14th -> Johnny's wild bender

Sunday, May 16th -> Ebunike & Oil Fields

Tuesday, May 18th -> Movie-Date with Rogue

Thursday, May 20th -> first meeting with Kerry😌

Tuesday, May 25th -> Samurai "Reunion" Concert

Thursday, May 27th -> Kerry has a gig for V

Tuesday, June 1st -> Dark Matter show with Us Cracks (and in the following days Blue Moon's stalker gig, before Boat Drinks)

Friday, June 4th -> Boat Drinks 🚤🔥

[a tiny little peace of mind pls before it all goes to shit XD]

Wednesday, June 9th -> Embers-Meetup with Hanako (headcanon time: I think, with how dangerous and secretive everything is with Hanako, they would agree on sth like her calling V with a date for the meetup at Embers at some point, when she feels it is safe. Maybe he'd still formally agree at some point "all right, starting now, feel free to call me anytime and I'll come, I'm ready"; so there is some plausible reason as to why "Meet Hanako at Embers" sits in your journal for around 20 gigs revolving around Johnny's past without consequences XD)

Thursday, June 10th -> V's 28th birthday, bc I love angst :D (as I said above, the meet at Embers would be something more or less spontaneous, and so he'd be like "aw shit, I wanted to spend my potential last birthday not thinking about the Arasakas' offer too much", not expecting he wouldn't really walk out of the restaurant on his own again. The attack on Arasaka Tower would happen the same night, after the meeting with Hanako, and so by the time midnight strikes and V walks into and out of Mikoshi, it would be his birthday in multiple ways, kinda. Cause ~symbolism~)

[time skip with very important things happening that explain how V got his mansion and became King of the Afterlife]

Thursday, September 2nd -> "Blaze of Glory" - Meetup with Mr. B at Afterlife (I put it in September because Alt's estimate for how long V has to live find a solution to his problem is around 6 months. So, by September half of that time is over, but V'd also have a very reasonable amount of time to plan the Crystal Palace Heist and make it a success, looking at how he managed to survive the main story events in a shorter timeframe. I think the outlook could definitely be seen as positive; also basing this a bit on what a femV romancing River says in the Sun Ending, that "months of prep" went into this "last gig". Also, the very prominent clothing ad "Focus on Winning this Fall" - "fall", as in, the season - visible at the start of the 6-month-montage also kinda makes me think the endings take place during Sep-Nov, cause we love foreshadowing in this house)

Saturday, September 4th -> First Chapter of "Love is Stored in the Olive Jar" XD and from then on we'll see o.o

Oookay.... that ended up being longer than I thought XD But yes... seing what V has accomplished in a relatively short amount of time (and I mean... about 1.5 months can definitely be "a few weeks, at most", if we look at Vik's original estimate of the situation) I think with twice as much time to plan *just one gig* (even though, admittedly, an insane one) his chances of it going right are good. Maybe not 100% according to plan, cause something always goes wrong, but yeah. Fully depends on everyone's V's of course, and whether at that point they *want to* continue fighting, have something to fight for and lose - Vince definitely does - but yeah. I choose to interpret the Sun ending as a positive outcome that gives V another shot at life xD Maybe not in the way he expected buuuut... 👀

Thanks for reading so far if you did, would love to hear different takes and how you'd space out the timeline of the main story for your V!

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 spoilers #cp2077 #cyberpunk vp #cyberpunk 2077 vp #cp2077 vp #cyberpunk v #male v cyberpunk #corpo v #vincent ezaki #my vp #vince's timeline #my headcanons #vince through the years #one more to go and HHHHH #I mean... if you remember my overview post of these a couple months back #you may know what's gonna come #but yeah still my feeeeels ;__;#cyberpunk 2077 meta

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huffle-dork · 1 month

Text

Swap Across the CrystalVerse Chapter 2: SepticHeroes Revisited

Read Swapboys | Crystal’s AUs | Read Septicheroes

Read SITCV | SITCV SepticHeroes Chapters | AO3 Link It sounds like your friend Bro showed up near Schneep and Marvin, JJ says. And now everyone is coming here to meet up.

“Oh good!” Dahlia says.

Jackie perks up from where he was resting against the wall. "Oh sick!" He grins.

“We should probably let Soren know so he doesn’t try to freeze them for intruding.” Dahlia says.

JJ raises an eyebrow. I thought you liked Soren.

“He could be worse. But he would definitely react badly to lookalikes suddenly showing up with your friends.”

Jackie tilts his head, "Freeze? Oh oh! Does Soren have ice powers??"

Dahlia laughs. “I meant that metaphorically. Like you know, when people freeze up with fear?”

"Oohhh sorry- I thought lots of people had powers here." Jackie replies with a timid smile.

“Oh no, you’re right, lots of people do,” Dahlia says. “I’ve fought three different ice villains over the years.”

I’ll go find him and let him know about all this, JJ says. Jackie, do you want to come? You know, meet him?

Jackie looks at JJ then grins, hopping up to his feet. "Yeah! I'd love to meet him!"

Dahlia leans back against the pillows. “Tell Soren I say hi.”

I will, JJ says, standing up. Follow me, Jackie.

They leave the room and enter a narrow upstairs hallway. All the doors up here are ajar so JJ only glances inside each—bedroom, bedroom, bathroom, closet—before heading down the stairs at the end of the hall. This whole house seems very generic, with single color walls and almost no decorations. Didn’t Bro and Alt mention some of the guys here were in hiding? This must be a place they’re staying, not anyone’s home.

Jackie observes the house with interest. He can definitely tell this is not a lived in house- he knows what a lived in house looks like. His kids have taught him that lesson over and over. This place seems wayyy too clean.

The first floor has an office, a bathroom, a living room, a dining room, and, finally, a kitchen. Which is the last place they look and the place where they finally find who they’re looking for. There a man crouches on the floor, looking through the cabinets.

JJ whistles and the man looks over at him.

“Hey Jem. Jackie.” He stands up. He’s wearing a dark red jacket over a white crop top with a purple heart in the middle. His hair is red, cut short on the right and longer on the left, and his eyes are—dark purple? Huh. He’s also taller than both Jackie and JJ. “I was just about to start—” And then the man stops. His eyes narrow at Jackie, and Jackie feels a little afraid all of a sudden. “Jameson, that’s not Jackie.”

No, I know, JJ says. He can be trusted.

Jackie stands stiff as they meet Soren- he's almost surprised he knew his name... before remembering he's technically a copy. He smiles timidly and raises a hand in greeting. "Yo...? You're.. not too far off. I am Jackie but... Jackie Mann. I'm... from another universe...?"

Soren blinks. Then he looks at JJ. "Wait, you were telling the truth about all that?"

Did you think I was messing with you? JJ asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Actually I thought you were delirious."

JJ looks like he wants to say something defensive, but then he sighs. That's fair. But yes, it's all true. We really met people from another world, and now they're back. More are coming here soon, along with everyone else.

"...huh." Soren leans back against the kitchen counter, contemplating that. Then he nods. "Alright. Nice to meet you, then, Jackie Mann." He looks at the shirt Jackie's wearing, the one that says 'Oh No Everyone's Hot' in the bi pride colors, and grins. "Heh. Mood." The fear Jackie felt briefly is gone now.

Jackie finds himself blushing- not only cuz this guy is attractive but... its not often he meets someone with the same eye color as his wife. A bit darker than hers but...mmmm. He looks down at his shirt and blushes more. "O-Oh uh.. y-yeah! Mood-" Oh god he's being cringe- where are the others??

It turns out, the others are right outside, as Alt glitches Jackie and Chase onto the path to the front door. Frosty shakes himself, fur floofing out like he's trying to shake off the glitches.

"Here we are!" Jackie says, making sure his mask is secure. He walks up to the front door and rings the doorbell.

Alt shakes off the glitches too, feeling momentarily dizzy but being able to push it off. He's fine- it's fine. He smiles and follows after Jackie towards the door.

JJ, Soren, and Jackieboy can hear that doorbell from the kitchen. Soren raises his eyebrow. "Is that them or should we ignore it?" he asks.

It might be some of them, JJ says. Alt can teleport people.

Jackie's phone chimes. A text from Alt: Yo nerd we're outside 😼

Jackie laughs and tilts his head towards the door. "It's them! Alt just texted me."

JJ giggles. Alright, let's go meet them, then.

"I'm coming with," Soren announces. "I want to meet the people coming into my house."

JJ laughs as the group leaves the kitchen. Let me and Jackie answer the door, at least.

"Yeah, sure." Soren leans against the entrance hall wall while JJ opens the door.

"Hey!" Jackie grins--and then grins wider when he sees his other self. "OH! HEY! HI!"

Jackie Mann’s eyes widen and then he grins super big, stimming slightly. "oh my god oh my god!! It's true! You really are a super hero!! Or youre like- totally yanking my chain and wearing a costume and this is all a joke and if it is imma kill Chase but AHHHH"

Alt bursts into laughter, "Jackie, breathe man! You're gonna pass out!"

“No no no, I really am! I—” Jackie glances around, then hurries through the doorway. “Check this out!” He jumps—and stays in the air, hovering a few inches over the floor.

Jackie's jaw drops and then he stims even more, practically vibrating, "THAT'S SO FUCKING COOL!!"

Alt glitches over and puts a hand on his Jackie's shoulder, "Inside voice, my guy-" He giggles.

Jackie lands, grinning and giggling. “It really is so cool! I forget about how cool it is sometimes.”

Chase walks in with Frosty. “I was so surprised the first time he showed me,” he says. “I didn’t even believe him until I saw the flying. Hey, other Jackie! I’m Chase.”

Jackie blinks and then beams at Chase, "Omg! Other Chase!! AND A PUPPY!!" He bends down to admire Frosty and almost pets him before seeing his vest. "OH! working pup- I see. Carry on good sir and/or ma'am!"

Chase grins. “This is Frosty! He’s my good boy. You can give him a couple pats, it’s okay.”

Jackie's eyes sparkle as he gets down and pats Frosty on the head, "oh! Hello Frosty!! Oh aren't you the best boy?? Damn- I should get a dog... maybe once Penny is older." He laughs.

JJ laughs silently. Hi Alt, it’s good to see you again.

Alt smiles, "Hey JJ! Good to see you too."

Bro isn’t here yet, apparently he and Marvin and Schneep had to take the train.

Alt tilts his head and frowns, "The train? huh... Guess the others didn't wanna get flown around... you know what? that's fair." He laughs.

In the background, Soren watches all this happen with visible curiosity.

Alt blinks at Soren and then waves a bit, "Uh hi! I'm Alt-"

Soren grins and raises a hand. "Hello. Call me Soren."

Alt smiles, "Hey, nice to meet you. I think I remember them mentioning you last time!"

"JJ's boyfriend," Chase says teasingly.

We're not officially dating, JJ says.

"Oh really?" Soren raises an eyebrow. "So what was it last night when we--"

I am going to make you shut up, I swear to god, JJ says hurriedly, a few strings appearing around his fingers.

Soren laughs.

Jackie looks back and forth between each other. "...wait a second, did you guys--"

Jackie springs up to his feet and rubs his hands together, "Oh!! I'm sensing drama and tea~??"

It's not what you think! JJ interrupts, his face turning very red.

"Aaaaanyway," Chase says. "Where's Dahlia?"

Jackie's face falls and his points dramatically at Chase, "Noooo! Don't change the subject!!"

Alt bonks him on the head, "Stop being weird, ya doof-"

Still upstairs, JJ says, relieved at the change of subject. Do you want to meet her, Alt?

Alt blinks at JJ and then smiles, "Oh yeah sure!"

Jackie grins, "I think you'll like her, Alt. She's real cool~"

She'd love to meet you, JJ says. I think she's love your powers.

Alt flushes but grins happily. "Neat, let's see her then."

Come on! He turns and hurries towards the stairs.

"I'm coming too, I wanna hang out with Dahlia," Jackie says excitedly.

"Fanboy," Chase whispers under his breath.

"Hey!"

"You guys have fun, I'll wait for your other friends down here," Soren says, waving the rest of them off as everyone heads upstairs.

Dahlia sits up straight when everyone returns to the bedroom. "Hey Jays. Jackie, Jackie, Chase, Frosty--and new guy, hello!" She waves.

Alt glitches a bit and tries not to get into his old habit of hiding his face in his mask. "Hi! I um-- I'm Alt. You're Dahlia, then?"

"Yep!" Dahlia says cheerfully. "Nice to meet you, love. You're the one who can turn into electricity, right?"

Alt blushes a bit more and grins, "Uh yeah- kinda? I'm... a magician so I do magic but... electricity is mostly it."

"He can do all sorts of shit," Jackie says. "Like glitching--that's how we got there."

"Nice, nice. Sorry there's not many spaces to sit in here. Chase, d'you need the chair?"

"No, I'd rather not, uh, change position too much," Chase says.

"Alright, in that case, it's a race to claim it," Dahlia chuckles.

Jackie and Alt glance at each other and seem to share a thought- and race towards the chair. Alt glitches into it though and grins. "Too slow~!"

"Hey! No fair ya cheating bastard! I could run circles around you!" Jackie pouts.

"But why would i try that if I can just glitch~?" Alt laughs.

"Whoa!" Dahlia's eyes light up. "That's so cool! It's like--teleportation with an effect."

Jackie laughs at Jackieboy and Alt's interaction. "Isn't it? It's so cool! Last time, Alt went into my phone--I mean, that didn't really work out too well but it's because Anti was there."

"Ah yes, the hellspawn," Dahlia comments in response to Anti.

"H-hey, uh, be careful." Chase glances at Alt. "We, um... might... You know how weird other dimensions get?" If Alt really was another version of Anti, he doesn't want to indirectly insult him.

"Do you mean universes? Dimensions are different," Jackie says.

"Jackie's right," Dahlia says. "And I know, I studied physics."

You dropped out, JJ says, grinning.

"Hey! That's a family secret!"

Alt grins at Dahlia, "Hey no sweat- I never finished secondary school. So you got me beat!" He laughs.

"Also, Don't worry Chase- I've been to lots of universes now. Most Antis I meet fit the description of hellspawn. I was just born different~" He grins mischievously. He then glitches out of the chair, "By the way- I don't need this, I just wanted to beat Jackie~"

"Yer such a jerk," Jackie laughs.

Dahlia blinks. "Wait... you're an Anti? How?"

"It doesn't really make sense, does it?" Jackie says. "But apparently it's true. I guess there are infinite possibilities with other universes."

"Huh. I suppose that's right."

Alt hums, "The only reason I'm an Anti in my universe is cuz... I picked that name when I was little. Was better than my old name. But, now I just stick with Alt. Only Bro really still calls me Anti." He shrugs, "But, apparently, Antis have lots of similar... traits." He seems to shiver, sticking his hands in his pockets and bunching up some, his confidence shrinking a bit. "... Glitching is one of them," He pulls at his mask, rubbing up against his neck.

JJ claims the chair now that no one is moving for it. How many universes did you guys go through before you reached home again? he asks. It must have been a lot if you've met lots of versions of yourself.

Alt blinks up at JJ and then thinks, "Oh... um... yeah it was a lot." He mentally counts, "We've been to two of them twice before this one- i think it's been... 7 ish?"

"That's a lot of other worlds," Jackie says in awe.

Alt seems to shrink in more and rocks on his feet, looking away. "... Antis aren't... usually the greatest... in other places. Typically they're... bad guys. Freaky villains and..." He presses his lips shut and closes his eyes, trying to push back some thoughts. "...i... I'm not like them though. I'm trying my best not to be. Cuz... I'm more than just an Anti. I'm Alt."

Jackie gives Alt a gentle smile and pats his shoulder, looking at him proudly.

"Well, I can guarantee that you're nothing like the Anti here, Alt," Chase says. "Everyone is themselves, y'know? Not just like... a role to fill. Besides, we just said that the universes are, like, infinite, so there's probably more good Antis than you know. I bet there's some bad versions of us out there, too."

"Ha! I'll always be a hero," Jackie says, folding his arms. "No matter what world I'm in."

I don't think so, JJ says. Look at other Jackie here. I mean--I'm sure you're a good guy, other Jackie, but it sounds like Chase is the main hero in your world.

"...uhhhh... good point." Jackie blinks, at a loss for words.

Chase laughs at the blank look on Jackie's face. "Bro. We were just talking about how different everything is, and you come in like 'nah I'll always be the same.'"

"It's just--just hard for me to picture being evil, is what I mean!" Jackie stammers defensively.

Alt opens his mouth and then shuts it, not sure he wants to tell Jackie about the bad Jackies he's met. Like Sangira... or- well... that Jackie is getting better now. But still- He has killed people.

Jackie laughs, "Man! I wish I was a hero! But nah- I'm just a geek who's a dad and does parkour~" He grins, "Chase is our main hero. I'd love to help but- as our Dr. J says im 'injury prone'." He adds air quotes.

"You are injury prone-" Alt deadpans, "You're hiding a wrist brace right now!"

Jackie pulls down on his jacket sleeve, "No I'm not, you're a liar!"

Chase laughs. "Bro, I didn't even notice that!"

JJ also chuckles. I don't think anyone would have said anything if Alt didn't point it out.

"Hey look, I get you, man--Mann, haha." Chase laughs some more. "My balance sucks. Frosty helps out with that, along with some other stuff, but accidents still happen sometimes."

Jackie's ears turn red but he grins, "I mean... it sucks but- being clumsy is how I became best friends with my Chase. ... wouldn't change that for the world."

While this nice conversation is happening inside, outside, Marvin, Schneep, and Bro are walking down the street. "Why do we have to walk everywhere in this city?" Marvin grumbles.

"Learn how to drive," Schneep says, still invisible.

"No, I don't want to."

"Your loss, then."

"You don't drive, either, don't talk shit to me."

Bro laughs and hovers a bit in front of them, "Maybe you two just need to learn to fly~" He jokes before touching back down. He walks backwards grinning at them. "I don't drive either- but Jackie does! I try to avoid it though-"

Schneep is quiet for a moment. "Anyway, we are almost there." He flickers back into view long enough to point out a house. "That is it."

Bro blinks and then notices the house as Schneep points to it and grins. He hurries over to the door and knocks on it.

"Whoa whoa hey!" Marvin and Schneep rush after Bro. "I think it's best if we don't lead with the stranger. Soren's as paranoid as me."

Schneep walks through Bro and ends up in front of him, returning to visible view.

“Oh right-“ Bro starts to say and then shivers as Schneep passes through him. He backs up and pats the spot where he went. “…that was so weird woah-“

And then the door opens. Soren leans against the doorway and looks down at the three of them. "Marvin, Specter, good to see you." He smiles, then looks at Bro. "New guy. You look very heroic. Other Chase, I'm told. I'm Soren, Soren Moizone."

Bro blinks up at Soren and then grins. “that’s cuz I am! I’m called Bro Fantastic back at home! Nice to meet you, Soren!”

"Heh. Fun name." Soren grins and Bro feels immediately at ease. "Your friends are inside, talking upstairs. I was going to start making dinner in the meantime."

"It's like four in the afternoon," Marvin says.

"And? There's a lot of you. We need a lot of food."

"I'm not sure we have the time for that..." Schneep mutters. "Something has happened."

Soren's easy demeanor immediately shatters, replaced by a hard, serious look. "Get in, then." He steps aside so everyone can come in.

Bro’s smile drops and he looks sad for a second. Damn… if Mag hadn’t gotten here… they could have actually had a good time. He squeezes his eyes shut and pushes down his anger and walks in to find his friends. “…thanks, Soren.”

"Not a problem," Soren says. "I'll head on up with you."

They walk up the staircase. The door to Dahlia's room is ajar a bit. Schneep hurries over and pushes it fully open. "Hey, Hen!" Dahlia waves. "I was just about to bring up when you'd get here."

"Hey, other me!" Chase says. "Hi!"

Jackie waves furiously at Bro. "Hey! Good to see you again!"

Bro smiles as he walks into the room and waves, "Hey guys-"

Alt immedately straightens up, "...what's wrong?' He asks in a quiet voice.

"What? Huh- how did you-??"

"Please Chase- I know you." Alt says with a raised eyebrow.

Bro looks conflicted. But eventually he sighs, his shoulders dropping. "...Magnificent is here..."

"WHAT?!" Jackie and Alt shout almost in unison.

"I thought you guys were just visiting?!" Jackie gapes. The curtains flutter as a nervous breeze flies through the room. "Did he tag along somehow?"

"Whatever happened, it was not intentional," Schneep says. "Bro said that it may be something wrong with your TRVLR device."

"Magnificent is... a villain, right?" Dahlia says.

"A bad one?" Soren asks.

A bad one, JJ confirms.

Chase shudders. "Last time he was here he got in my head. I-it was freaky."

Alt starts to pace and glitch anxiously, tugging at his hoodie. "NO no! I... I was so careful! All that planning! The warding! The protection spells! It all meant nothing?!" He shouts at the end, the electronics in the room all flickering and shuddering from Alt's anger and panic.

"Hey hey lil bro, Breathe!" Bro says, coming over and holding his shoulders. "It wasn't your fault! he... it must be something with the TRVLR! Did anything seem weird about it??"

Alt shakes his head, "I.. I dunno- It seemed fine... just- why?!" He shouts, angry tears in his eyes. "Why is he here, again??"

Jackie looks at Chase with a sympathetic gaze before turning back to Dahlia, "Yeah he's... our main villain back home. A power hungry maniac corrupted by black magic... he wants to make people into his puppets or steal their power or... lots of other fucked up shit. He's a dangerous dude..."

"Where's Marvin?? He was with you guys, right?" Alt suddenly shouts, worry on his face, "Mag really hurt him last time- he didn't-?!"

"Alt please, try to calm down..." Bro whispers.

"I'm right here." Marvin steps forward. He'd hung back to take off Bro's spare clothes, which he then shoves at him. "Yeah, I still have the scars from him turning into a fucking tiger. But he clearly still wants to kill me."

Alt deflates a bit, less worried now that he knows Marvin is okay. Bro fumbles with the clothes then stuffs them back in his bag.

"Turning into a tiger...?" Soren repeats slowly.

"The powers from the other world are more varied than ours," Schneep says. "A 'magician' there can do many incredible things at once."

"Uhhhh okay," Dahlia says.

"At least, uh, h-he can't find us here," Chase says.

JJ frowns. Can he? How did he find your flat last time?

"Um... I-I don't know. I never really thought about that."

I think he had help, JJ says. He signs something: the letter A, and then smacking his hands together. A-virus. The meaning is clear.

Alt's eyes narrow and he growls, "That Anti fuck... he's probably gonna try to help him again! Fuck... fuck fuck fuck!" Alt shouts, looking like he's ready to hit something or explode- pixels coming off him as his body breaks in and out of being whole by his glitches.

Jackie Mann looks between everyone and tries to smile, "M-Maybe it wont be so bad! Maybe... this is actually hidden this time? Mag usually can't find shit without magic!"

"Uhhhhh..." Jackie bites his lip and stares at his other version. "How do I put this...? Anti can look through cameras. All our phones have cameras. We all have phones on us right now."

"We should have never started using them again!" Schneep curses.

"God damn it all!" Marvin punches the wall.

Soren rubs his eyes. "Yang and I only have so many safe houses in the city, you know," he says tiredly. "Why did you all start using computers again?"

"Well, we figured that now we know Anti can't reach us, we'd just have to be very careful what we said," Chase says slowly.

Clearly this was a mistake, JJ says. We have to get out of here.

Alt sighs and crosses his arms, "...trying to run might get innocents hurt. Knowing Mag and how hard we kicked his ass last time... he's not gonna be happy. He's gonna hunt all of us down..."

"If Magnificent is coming here, why don't we wait for him?" Jackie argues. "We could spring a trap!"

I'm not putting Dahlia in danger.

"I can handle danger," Dahlia mutters. "Even like this."

"I mean- yeah! We know he's coming so we can prepare! We got him really good last time!" Bro smiles,

JJ still looks reluctant, but he nods. Alright, I suppose we have to prepare for a fight, then.

"Great, we can put these to use." Soren walks over to the armchair, bends over, and opens a hidden compartment in one of the legs, pulling out a knife. JJ looks at this, surprised, and bursts into silent laughter. How long has that been there?!

"Since before you guys moved in. There are weapons in all the chairs and lamps, some of them with special features."

Chase leans closer to Jackie. "I told you," he whispers.

Alt blinks and then grins, "Fuck yeah that's metal!"

Bro looks worried. "Are the houses around all safehouses? Because our powers aren't necessarily... discrete?"

"And what about us powerless people huh?" Jackie says, pointing to himself. "I mean- save a face punch from me for Mag- but I'm also fragile!"

"Super fights happen all the time, don't worry," Jackie says. "I don't think any of us are destructive enough to level the neighborhood or anything." He hesitates. "Even so, I-I--I can go around and ask people to clear out. The citizens know me, they'll listen."

"And don't worry, other Jackie, I have all sorts of stuff," Soren says. "My powers aren't exactly combative so I have to make up for it. What are you, blades, guns, or blunt instruments? I'm sure I have some protective vests somewhere, too."

Jackie brightens up, "oh! I just learned how to use a knife better! Gimme!"

Soren grins. "Alright, here you are." He flips the knife over and holds it out to Jackie hilt-first.

Jackie grins and flips the knife, testing out the feel. “Sick- I’ll cut some new whiskers on Mag’s face!”

"I'll try and find those protective vests." And Soren stands up and leaves.

"I can try to cast some wards and stuff-" Alt says, digging out his spellbook. "He's a strong magician but I... I can probably keep him back for a bit..."

Go ahead and do your magic, Alt, JJ says. Any time you can buy us will be great. And he gets up. Dahlia?

"I'll be careful, Jays," Dahlia says. "Promise."

JJ nods, then goes out to follow Soren in the search for the protective vests.

Alt nods and starts flipping through the pages. His eyes burn with green blue light as he recites some words, going to trace some runes in the air above the walls.

Bro shifts nervously, "I could come with you if you need, Windstorm-"

Jackie looks at Bro. He nods. "That's a good idea. If we spot something suspicious while out, one of us can fly back and tell the others here. I think we should avoid texting for now."

Bro nods with a small smile and puts back on his mask, his hair flaring to green-yellow. “Right!”

"Alright." Jackie nods. "Let's go!"

Time passes as everyone prepares. Soren passes out weapons to everyone who doesn't have more combative powers. He also finds three protective vests--which are smaller and thinner than traditional bulletproof vests, but which he assure everyone is just as protective as Kevlar. JJ insists that Dahlia gets one, and the other two go to Chase and Jackieboy.

Outside, Jackie and Bro fly around, telling the neighbors that theere's going to be a fight happening soon and they need to either hunker down or leave. Nobody protests, understanding the gravity that comes with a Hero--and another hero--telling them directly.

Until, about half an hour later, Jackie nudges Bro. "Look," he says. "Do you see that?"

Bro narrows his eyes at where Jackie points and then frowns. “Uhhh… no? What am I looking at?”

Jackie glances at him, then back to where he was pointing. At a line of bushes in someone's front yard. Indeed the movement he saw there before is gone now—until it isn't.

Suddenly Jackie yells and tackles Bro to the side, just barely knocking him out of the way as a soccer-ball-sized metal sphere rockets towards the spot where Bro's head had been seconds before.

Bro yelps as he's pushed to the ground.

The sphere spins around midair and rushes at them again. Jackie raises a hand and a gust of powerful wind knocks it off course, sending it crashing to the sidewalk next to them. It's some sort of robot, mostly spherical with a tail-like peripherary. "That's a SAM," Jackie breathes. "Semi-Autonomous Machine. SepTech made them to help people but then Anti took control of most of them. I think it was spying on us."

Bro pants and then looks at Jackie with wide eyes. "If... if Anti took control of them- could he send them to the house??"

Jackie's eyes widen in turn. "Definitely."

The SAM's peripheral writhes, and it slowly hovers back into the air, pointing a camera lens in its center at the two heroes.

"We gotta warn the others then-!" Bro starts to say but freezes as the SAM gets airborne again.

Compartments on the side of the SAM open up, and out pop small devices--devices that then shoot a hail of sharp darts at the two of them.

Jackie dodges out of the way, a gust of wind pushing the darts away from him.

Bro yells in surprise as the darts are shot and crosses his arms in front of his face to try to block them. But, a few stick in his arm- one even breaking through his suit. "Ah- fuck!! What the fuck??" He pulls it out and looks at it then waves it at the SAM, "The fuck did you stick in me ya round orb bitch?!"

Jackie looks at Bro and pales. "Wait a minute." He plucks one of the darts that didn't pierce through Bro's suit from his arm. Inside the tiny glass compartment is a pale lavender liquid. "Shit! That's neutrinalin! It'll muffle your powers!"

Bro's eyes widen. "What?! Shit-!"

The SAM prepares for another volley of darts, aiming at Jackie this time. He barely dodges another round. "Go back to the house!" he shouts at Bro. "Quick, before it takes effect! Tell the others the SAMs are coming!"

Bro looks hesitant to leave Jackie but he quickly nods and takes back off into the air, hurrying back towards the house. He barrels through the door, nearly tripping into Alt who was prepping a seal against the door.

"What? Chase what's- dude what happened??" Alt asks. He's a bit pale and seems shaky but he's also half chewing on a snack bar Jackie brought.

Bro pants, wiping at his face. "That bitch Anti is sending machines this way! R-Round bitches that shoot out power nullifying shit! They look like eyes-"

Alt's eyes widen and he grabs Bro and pulls him in, "Where's Windstorm?"

"H-Hopefully right behind me!"

Schneep suddenly appears next to Alt. "You mean the SAMs?" he says. "The Semi-Autonomous Machines. They were made by SepTech to be helpful for people and Heroes.

"Yes! Those guys! Jackie said Anti-!"

“They should not be able to--what was it? Shoot power nullifying... you mean neutrinalin?"

"Yeah yeah that!”

JJ has arrived about halfway through the conversation. He frowns. Anti must have modified some of them. Did you get hit with the-- he makes a sign that the other-world visitors don't know, like JJ is pushing something down. It must be the sign for 'neutrinalin.'

Bro blinks and then nods to JJ, “uh... yeah i think so- I felt a prick-"

Then there's a distant screaming. It slowly gets closer--

Alt glitches and throws Bro and the others out of the way of the door.

—and then Jackie flies right through the doorway, still shouting, and crashes into the living room wall. "Oof!"

"Jackie!" Bro shouts, hurrying over to him. "Are you okay??"

Alt wastes no time in shutting the door and hurriedly chants another spell over it. He holds two hands over the wood and pours his magic in, sweat breaking out on his forehead. "A-Any sign of Mag??"

Jackie recovers surprisingly quickly, popping back up. "I'm okay!" he gasps. "No sign of Magnificent. But there's at least one SAM out there, and probably more coming, with--"

"Neutrinalin? Yes, Bro just told us," Schneep says. "He also said he might've been injected. Can you still access your powers, Bro? Will it even work on you?"

"I-if it will, it should be working by now," Jackie adds.

Bro blinks and then looks down at himself- for a second, he feels kinda dizzy. He shakes this off though and tries to see if he can hover in the air. He's able to for a second before he crashes down. His normally bright blue eyes under his mask seem a bit duller and he pales. "... f-fuck...!"

JJ looks at Alt. Do those wards block out any threats or just magical ones?

Alt grits his teeth and concentrates, trying to spread out his magic over more than just the door. "I... I started with just magic wards but- I-I'm trying to expand them to anything now that Bro and Windstorm are back! Hopefully they can hold for a bit... but if... if these machines are coming the wards I put over Dahila's room might not be enough...!"

Bro pushes himself up on shaky arms. "Alt- you're not draining yourself, are you??"

"I'm giving us a fighting chance!" Alt bites back. "We need every advantage we can get!"

"You know what would be giving us a chance? Having you ready to fight if they show up, Alt," Schneep points out.

Bro nods along with Schneep. "You're just as powerful as the rest of us Alt! We need you!"

Alt laughs at this, giving them a semi-pained look. "... Mag used me against you all last time- I dont want to give him that chance again. I'll be fine- but... I... I'll try to refuel." He backs up from the door, letting his hands slip off. The door and the walls/windows on that side of the house glimmer slightly with green- like the effect of looking at something under sunlight in water.

JJ pales a bit at Alt mentioning Dahlia. Do you think someone should stay with her? he worries. Maybe Chase? Or other Jackie?

Marvin appears just as he asks that. "You know your sister can take care of herself, right?"

Yes, but she was in a COMA until a couple weeks ago, so there's some difficulty there! JJ snaps, practically throwing his hands in Marvin's face.

"Whoa!" Marvin leans back. "Um... s-sorry. I didn't mean to... sorry."

Jackie peeks up from where he's been sitting on the stairs, nervously fiddling with the vest and the knife. He blinks at JJ and then smiles, "Hey- Jays- I can try to protect Dahlia if you want! Dunno how much use I'd be in the big fight but, I'm sure I can keep some metal fuckers away from her!"

JJ smiles at him. Thank you. But you said you were best at knife fighting, right? Knives won't be much use against robots.

Soren and Chase peek into the living room. "I can stay with Ti--with Dahlia, Jem," Soren offers. "I'm sure I can handle some drones." His weapon of choice is a metal bat, which he taps threateningly against his hands.

Jackie pouts slightly, "They're like- eyes right? Just- jab em in the pupil!" He tries to demonstrate, jabbing at the air.

Schneep laughs. "Their 'pupils' are their cameras, so that may actually work out. If there is no camera, they cannot see."

"But I also know... some martial arts! ... but I guess that'd hurt against a robot. Mannn what the hell! I hate being normal..." Jackie mutters.

Chase looks down at Jackieboy. "Yeah, I know how you feel, bro. Not sure how much I can do. All anyone would need to do to take me out is knock me down."

"If you guys want to get somewhere safe, we're not gonna stop you," Jackie says. "It's up to you." He peers out through the curtained windows.

Bro smiles at his friend with sympathy. "Well... looks like I'm in your boat too, Jackie..." He looks down at his hands and flexes them, as if willing his power to come back.

Alt sits down on the floor and grabs more things to eat, tiredly trying to get his energy back. He leans against the wall and tries to catch his breath, looking a bit pale and clammy.

Marvin nods. "Alright. Sounds like it's time to wait."

#SATCV #SATCV septicheroes #alt anti #bro fantastic #jackie mann #more introductions then!! trouble starts!! :O #i love dahila and soren so much ajhbak beans

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