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#technically head engineer mark is here too

trulybetty · 5 months

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dec' 14 x books

Prompt: books Pairing: frankie x reader Word Count: 945 Warnings: a little festive angst sprinkled with some joy, barely beta'd is the name of the game folks, mistakes are my own Summary: it was supposed to be your first 'official' Christmas with Frankie... AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

The Christmas lights that you’d reluctantly hung, twinkled softly in the living room, casting a warm cozy glow over the small space. Looking out the window, the snow continued to fall, relentless in its determination to blanket everything. The serene white layer and the quiet stillness of it all only did well to amplify the emptiness of the house.

It was supposed to be your first Christmas with Frankie, one as an official couple, but here you were on base housing alone and Frankie the other side of the world. Or he could be, you had no clue, there was no security clearance for wives and girlfriends. You just had to guess where it was he’d been deployed to.

There had been due warning that he would be deployed over Christmas, so you had planned to fly home to Seattle. But that snowfall? The one that seemed determined to bury the world under its cold embrace? Well, at least the state of Colorado. Had put a stop to all flights out, grounded until further notice. Stranding you in Colorado, alone.

You were sat on the couch, wrapped in the disgustingly ugly crocheted blanket Frankie clung to in his refusal to let go, trying to ignore the ache that you were alone for Christmas and the lingering worries if agreeing to take a chance on this thing with Frankie was the right thing. It also didn’t help that the base housing felt larger, emptier than usual.

You sighed and pulled the blanket tighter around you, taking in the scent that was uniquely Frankie. You didn’t know that many people yet, certainly not any of the other wives or girlfriends, and the thought of imposing on someone else’s family christmas had felt way too intrusive. So you had resigned yourself to a quiet holiday alone, trying to keep the loneliness at bay by continuing the unpacking that you and Frankie had started.

Growing tired of the pity party you glanced around the room, your eyes landing on Frankie’s bookshelf. It was nestled in a recessed pocket of the wall. It was a large, wooden structure that took up most of the space there. With nothing else to do you rose from the sofa and wandered over.

Several empty boxes, all marked with matching labels indicating they were Frankies, sat on the floor before the bookcase. He’d been preparing to unpack them all when he got the call and had decided it was a task best left with the prep he had for deployment a week later.

The boxes were all full of books, Frankie was a voracious reader. Pulling open one of the boxes you ran your fingers over the neatly packed spines of books and smiled. It was an eclectic mix, ranging from engineering texts to fiction novels.

On a whim you pulled one out of the box, flipping through the pages nonchalantly. That’s when you noticed the notes. Pulling out another one you found more, in another and another, one after the other. In nearly every book there were little annotations in Frankie’s tiny, neat handwriting. Some were technical notes, observations, or thoughts on the subject matter, some with the odd math calculations that made your head spin. Others though were more personal – highlighted quotes he liked, ideas for future projects, reminders.

You knew Frankie could be introspective and thought a lot more deeply than people gave him credit for. But the realization that he had left parts of himself in these books, hidden in plain sight, brought a smile to your face.

Then, you found it. A book you recognized instantly. It was from a small bookstore in Seattle, a place you had visited together on one of Frankie’s weekend trips from McChord. It wasn’t a date, nope, you had both been in denial of your feelings back then. Nothing was official, you were just ‘hooking up’ and having fun, keeping things casual, or so you had told yourselves.

You had wandered into a bookstore in Seattle, laughing and joking. Looking back the chemistry between you both was undeniable. You remembered Frankie scouring the shelves for that book, the reason the two of you had made your way downtown that day.

Curious, you opened it and there, on the first page, were notes about that very day.

The date was the same as that trip to the bookstore, and the note began with a simple observation about the weather that day. But as you continued reading, your heart skipped a beat.

Frankie had written about you.

There in little anecdotes was the way you had laughed at a joke he made, about the way you’d gotten excited when you found a stack of books by an author you loved. There was a tenderness in his words, a hint of something more, emotions that he hadn’t acknowledged to you at the time. The realization that Frankie had harboured deeper feelings for you even then, feelings that went beyond the casual nature of your relationship, was heartwarming.

You closed the book and held it close to your chest, staying in that moment a little longer. The house feeling a little less empty you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. Scrambling to your feet you kept the book clutched at your chest as you made your way back to the couch. You pulled Frankie’s blanket around you, a new sense of warmth surrounding you.

Flicking through the channels of the TV, the buzz of your phone at your elbow pulled your attention away from the Hallmark-esque rom-com that was playing. Opening the notification you read the message on the screen.

Merry Christmas Mav - F

#december x 500 #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #jfrankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 4 months

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The Eclipses Show

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,232 Words

Summary: Eclipse wakes up in a forest nine months after his death. Eclipse also wakes up in a daycare a day after his death. Turns out, Solar now has to deal with both of them.

Warnings: Near Death Experiences, Coma, Injury, Limb Loss, Eye Trauma, Head Trauma, Cursing, Death (mentioned only), let me know if I should add anything else.

Chapter 1: Back From The Dead

Eclipse woke up in a forest, utterly broken and completely out of it. His animatronic body was practically destroyed, yet he survived, barely. Being booted from Sun’s head into this forest was not kind to him, it seemed.

He groaned as his systems that were functional or barely so whirred with a high pitch. He wouldn’t die here, he refused. He tried to sit up, finding his left arm missing and half his faceplate, half of his right leg gone too.

He groaned and looked around, he was in the middle of the forest. Just where the hell did Sun boot him out to? He should get moving, find a town or something. His head felt like something had kicked it in with a rusty hammer, and it did not help that his faceplate was damaged.

He tried to stand but…it was clear he couldn’t, so he tried to crawl along and find help, the pain was agonizing. He found a long, hefty branch to use as a cane for his missing lower right leg.

“Why is pain a thing?” He wondered. What was the date even? Eclipse checked his inner mechanics and it read ‘2:47am August 4th 2023’. He had lost almost a year. He’d lost from October 31st ‘22 to August 4th ‘23!?

Eclipse felt his face and found that his right eye was missing along with a chunk around his left faceplate that made his sight in his left eye extremely difficult to see from, probably from the loose socket due to the missing chunk.

Eclipse growled in anger at Sun but used what felt like a tree and the branch to get up, using his limited vision. He had to get somewhere that had parts to fix himself. He couldn’t tell what bunkers were nearby but he could see his glitching internals that could lead him to the PizzaPlex.

So he went that way, stumbling and using GPS to get there and using it again to get to get to the P&S area. Once there, Eclipse began rummaging and closely inspecting things to fix himself.

He ended up finding a mismatched pair of eyes, one baby pink and one dark grey, that would fit his model and put them into the tube’s part system, going back to find a grey and brown arm from shoulder to fingers, an old purple-tinged Moon faceplate, and a green leg model from the knee joint down.

Once he found those, he loaded them into the parts holder and set the tube to operate on himself and fix everything that he could at the moment. He could fix his internals once his outside was fixed. So he sat in the chair in the tube and let the machine do its job.

He growled feeling it take out his left eye and the remains of his faceplate. Then it placed the new mismatched eyes into the sockets, then the new faceplate. He blinked as it directed into a light scanner and thankfully could see. He could see better than a close distance at least.

The tube then fixed his wires loose from his left arm and right knee and attached his limbs and launched instantaneous calibration effects. He flexed his new limbs for the scanner and then sighed at the tube gave him a green light for all clear. Eclipse exited the tube and looked at the body scanner’s results.

He had so many internals broken. It was no wonder he felt freezing cold, his heaters were broken, so was his coolant and oil systems, his engines had cracks and fans had broken twigs in them.

“Well fuck.” He hugged. He would have to find these things himself and probably replace them himself too. So he groaned and went rummaging. He did find a fan system and engine so he went for those first. His old oil and coolant had to be drained and replaced completely, it felt like he had sludge in what was technically his blood system.

He poured coolant into the marked tank and oil into the other, placing the engine and fan system into the part holders for replacement. Eclipse couldn’t find a heater, so sadly he’d just be cold for a while.

“Better than nothing, I guess.” He huffed, laying in the chair again and let the tube release a smaller little hand to him and turn him off. Eclipse’s eyes bolted open in startle, he hadn’t realized he’d be powered down for a full coolant and oil replacement. He didn’t want to lose more time!

He booted up twenty minutes later feeling so much better. It was a goddamn miracle. He didn’t feel like he had slime in his ‘veins’, it felt like a relief to feel the liquid in him running as it should and fans and engine running properly.

He felt grateful, incredibly so. He was alive, he was fixed. But now for what to do. He had to stay close to here, his systems could break down any second if they did so please. He couldn’t replace his circuit board himself nor could the tube. He would need someone else for that.

Maybe…Maybe he could beg Lunar? He didn’t want to scare him. Eclipse had seen how October had went and, by the end of it, he was just tired. Maybe this new life post near-death, he could be different. He could be kinder to Lunar, try to apologize for what he’d done and be a better person.

So he set off to the daycare, hopefully Lunar was there. He didn’t know what would happen if it was Moon or Sun he faced, but he was sure it wouldn’t be good. Hopefully he could just talk to Lunar.

Eclipse ventured into the daycare, confused seeing three people he didn’t recognize along with Moon as Eclipse stood in the ball pit, having gone down the slide. One looked like a Sun but just…absolutely destroyed.

Another was a tall green and brown female daycare bot, and the third he didn’t recognize was a tiny pale blue and moon themed bot. He realized with a bit of fondness that the tiny bot was Lunar. It gave him a bit of joy knowing Lunar was safe and sound in a body of his own.

But a bit of horror crept in seeing who he could audibly hear was Sun be so destroyed. He was catching names and bits of a conversation but not really getting the whole story.

“Uh, guys?” Lunar asked the others. And Eclipse realized Lunar was looking directly at him with a bit of panic.

“Oh shit.” Moon realized as he turned to look at Eclipse.

“Quick, shoot him!” Lunar told Moon, handing him what looked like a laser gun. His body wouldn’t withstand that! He was in a fragile condition already! So he dove into the ball pit as Moon grabbed the gun about to fire.

Eclipse didn’t know the portal was on until he got sucked through it into a different dimension, which locked the second he was through by a different Moon.

“And now you have fucking two friends here! Worthless parasite, come get your little child!” The other Moon snapped. Eclipse looked over by the Moon and saw triple for a second. It was him. But…also not? But it was two other versions of him maybe? Why were there three different Eclipses?

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leighsartworks216 · 2 years

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Kiss It Better

Engineer Mark x gn!reader

Writing this very impulsively from my phone after seeing Engineer Mark say "owie"

Warnings: minor injury, but mostly just fluff

Word Count: 858

Masterlist

The Invincible II was a beautiful ship. The best of the best... sorta. Things went wrong more often than was perhaps normal, and definitely more than everyone preferred it to. But she was your ship.

Technically.

She really was Mark's baby, truth be told. Your Head Engineer knew every wire, every screw, every protocol the Invincible held within her walls. She only became yours when you were assigned to the ship.

In any case, her issues needed to be corrected, usually on a daily basis. And today her cooling systems had shut down.

Celci was keeping an eye on the colonists, updating you with any changes that could harm them. Fortunately, for the colonists, at least, the only systems down were the air conditioning systems, not the coolant used for cryopods.

All the crew members were grumbling. Even the most cheery were glaring at you behind their 'Hello's and 'Morning, Captain's. If that didn't get you off your ass and down into engineering, the sweat dripping down your neck certainly did.

"Cap, can you hand me that wrench just- right there, that one."

The metal burned your hand as you passed it over. Your gloves had been one of the first things to go once the temperature began to rise. At some point, you'd tied the upper half of your jumpsuit around your waist. Mark had tried a little too hard not to look when you did.

"How much longer do you think?" You wiped your damp forehead on your arm, watching as Mark expertly navigated the ship's cooling system.

He sighed. "I wish I knew. The hotter it's getting, the more fried these wires are getting. It's a mess all around."

He ducked out of the vent-like tunnel system, panting and pulling on his shirt to mimic a breeze. He looked like a pouting child, especially when he was sitting back on his knees like that.

"Okay, I have an idea." He dropped his shirt so he could gesture with both hands. "I may be able to strip the wires down past where they're fried and reconnect them. If that doesn't work, well, we'd have to get new wires... What'd'ya think?"

"Just tell me what I can do to help."

With a determined grin, a fist bump, and some wire strippers, Mark dove back in, eager to try fixing the problem once again.

Air conditioning back online.

"OW!"

A metal thunk sounded followed by a cuss as Mark crawled his way out of the vent. He came out holding his hand, face scrunched up in a wince.

"What happened?" You take his hand into both of yours, turning it over and assessing it for damage. One of his fingers had burn marks, undoubtedly from reconnecting wires.

"Damn wires shocked me!"

"Of course they did!" You held up his hand. "You're not wearing your gloves!"

He opened his mouth, looked at the ground where both pairs of leather gloves lay discarded, and then looked back to you. "Oh."

You had to bite back a grin. He was so invested in patching up the cooling system that he completely forgot any necessary safety measures. As his captain, you should be reprimanding him more. But, as his friend, you were worried about his safety more than anything.

Lifting his hand to your face, you inspected the damage left behind. The skin was red and irritated, and you couldn't help noticing the callouses that had formed on his hands after years of hard work. Still, after a bit of cool water and care, it would be healed right up.

"Uh, Captain? Why did you just do that?"

You pulled his hand away from your face. Had you done something? Maybe you could play it off. "Uhm, do what?" Smooth.

He raised an eyebrow. "You just kissed my finger."

Oh.

You couldn't even play off the warmth flooding to your face as the heating anymore, as cool air had flooded the room quickly after it was fixed. Part of you wished there was some way to reverse time and avoid this awkward moment, but no. You were stuck here.

You cleared your throat. "W-Well, how does it feel now?"

His eyes flickered from his finger to your face. You still hadn't let his hand go. This was the most physical contact you two had made since you boarded. And without gloves, no less.

"Better," he murmured. He glanced over at the vent, and pointed to his head with his other hand. "I hit my head, too. It still kinda hurts."

God, what a couple of dorks, sitting on the floor, blushing.

With one hand holding his, you reached out the other to cup the back of his head. The lightest pressure had Mark tilting his head forward, eyes still trying to watch your every move. Your lips touched the spot he pointed to, light as a feather, perhaps lighter. And they lingered. Then, you both pulled back. Your hand was holding his, and your other was cupping his head.

You both just sat there and stared for a minute.

Mark cleared his throat lightly, swallowing thickly afterward. "It feels better now."

#fanfic #fanfiction #markiplier #markiplier egos #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #fluff #markiplier egos x reader #iswm #iswm 2 #iswm captain #iswm head engineer #captaineer #two dorks in love

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spicy-outer-space · 1 year

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I've been convinced

Angst writing that I did for the discord. Am unreasonably proud of it

Tw for heavy angst , blood, and death (and probably other things too but I'm not sure)

‎

Characters:

- Starry belongs to @'buc-eebarnes

- Zara belongs to @'tippytanpies

- Thea belongs to @'seraph-draws-stuff

- David is mine

- Mark is (technically) from AHWM, except I think he's very ooc here whoops

‎

Mark couldn't sit still. They were already arriving to some old abandoned house, but it was taking too long, and he couldn't stop thinking about Starry who was passed out, bleeding, in the back seat. He didn't dare look for the fear of accidentally locking eyes with Thea or David. (Starry'll be fine, she's strong, it's fine)

‎

He hopped out of the car before it even fully stopped, tripping on his way and recieving a concerned squeak from Zara. He opened the back door, got Starry out of the car and started walking towards the house (Zara quick to follow him) before the sound of the engine had the chance to die down. He tried to ignore how limp and cold and small Starry felt in his arms. (They're still breathing. It's fine. Everything is ok. It's gonna be fine)

‎

He was halfway to the house when he realised something was wrong. Behind Zara's constant stream of quiet apologies and how loud his own thoughts were, he didn't notice it sooner.

There were only two sets of footsteps crunching on the gravel: his and Zara's.

‎

This realisation caused him to stop in his tracks, earning another startled squeak from Zara as they almost crashed into his back.

‎

Why haven't Thea and David gotten out of the car yet.

‎

Something was wrong

Despite his brain yelling at him about Starry, Mark turned around and started taking long strides back towards the car. Thea. He can't lose two of his friends in one day. He won't. He refuses to

‎

He could see from afar how David lifted its head at the sound of footsteps getting closer. Mark tried to keep his voice level when he started speaking

‎

"Get out of the car."

‎

No answer

‎

"David, wake up Thea and get out of the car."

Mark could see how much effort it took for David to shake his head.

‎

"I can't do that. I'm sorry, Mark," his voice is quiet, but Mark still felt his world get knocked out from under him

‎

This isn't really happening. It can't be happening. It must be joking

Mark reached forward, opening the car door and somehow not dropping Starry in the process (some part of his brain was screaming that her pulse got weaker. He hoped he was wrong)

‎

"David. David ge--" he had to stop and swallow hard before continuing with a shaky voice, "get out of the car. Both of you. Ple- Please"

‎

David was smiling, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. It shakes its head. His voice is barely above a whisper now

"It's too late for us, Mark. You know that. Go save Starry, they still have a chance" David weakly flaps his hand. Mark is pretty sure it was trying to wave him off.

‎

Mark's brain chimes back in at that point, agreeing with David (Starry's breathing was definitely more uneven now, he can't afford to waste any more time-), but his body refused to move.

‎

"Thea?"

‎

The pause drags on forever. He already knows that it's no use, but that doesn't stop him from hoping

This is taking too long

‎

Just as Mark turned and started walking away he heard David speak up "...hey, I think... I think you should go to Stan's after this. It's safe there. He'll look after you."

‎

Mark stopped walking, but he didn't dare turn back around. (The adrenaline was wearing off and he was already tearing up, turning back to face his friends? One of whom is already dead and one who's actively dying? He would have broken down right there and then)

‎

"Just.... Tell him I'm sorry, could you? You don't have to stay with him, but, please-"

"Sure"

‎

And with that, Mark started speeding towards the house, where Zara was already nervously standing in the doorway, twisting their arms in uncertainty of what to do next. He shouldn't dwell. Life is for the living, after all.

‎

A good while after the sound of footsteps disappeared into the house, David tilted its head and pressed a kiss to Thea's forehead, before resting his head on top of hers

"See you soon, sis"

His voice was barely there now, a sound that could easily be mistaken for the rustle of the wind, or maybe a calm exhale.

#write.void

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beautouslysandy · 1 year

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Cars And Cupcakes

Steve Randle x GN!Reader

By- Sandy

Warning: A bit of language

Word Count- 492

Note- First time writing Steve, hope y'all like it!

-You and Steve are very different from eachother, he doesn’t mind getting messy and is disorganized you however are a very clean and neat individual, he isn’t very bright and you are a very clever person. I could go on forever but if there is something you guys can bond over it is cars and sweet treats. You love baking and aren’t to shabby at it, Steve loves your cupcakes.

“Okay…”You said softly as you carried a big brown box into DX

“Steve?!” You called as you set down the box carefully on the counter

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called in confusion

“Yes…”You replied as you saw Sodapop walking out of the garage. “Hey, Soda” You said with a smile, you going it was Steve but you obviously don’t say that

“You looking for Steve?” He asked with a smile

“Yeah” You replied with a soft smile “He’s back here working on car, come in” He said waving his hand towards to garage.

“Okay then” You said picking up the box and following Sodapop.

“Steve, Y/N’s here” Sodapop informs as he steps into the garage

You have only been back in the garage once, to fix up your car, or more so Steve fixing your car and you handing him the tools.

“Oh, hey babe!” Steve called joyful from under a car

“I have cupcakes!” You said with a cheery smile. You heard a bang from under the car “Shit!” You heard your boyfriend scream

“You good, Steve?” Sodapop asked with a painful face

“Yeah just hit my head on the engine.” Steve groaned as he wheeled out from under the car

He walked over after putting his tools back in the toolbox, he had a big red mark on his forehead.

“Oh god, I am so sorry” You sighed.

“Hey. You brought cupcakes, don’t be sorry about anything.” He said opening the box to show chocolate cupcakes with deep chocolate icing.

“My favorite!” Steve gleamed fist bumping Sodpop

You chuckled, you loved baking sweet treats for your boyfriend and surprising him with them. He always had the cutest face when he saw what kind they were, typically chocolate. “Thanks Y/N!” Sodapop cheered taking one

“Mhm, no problem Soda” You said glad Steve wasn’t going to be the only one eating them, if he did he would bouncing off the walls. “Hey! These are my cupcakes!” Steve said angrily

“Technically there Y/N’s cupcakes” Sodapop said laughing as he walked away eating the cupcake

“Thank you, Y/N! I love you!” He cheered as he took a cupcake or two and kissed you on the cheek

Your face got a little pink “You're welcome, where do you want me to place them, down?” You asked with a smile

“Over there, thanks babe.�� He said sitting down a random stool.

“Your welcome.” You said placing the box down and heading over to Steve and placing a kiss on his cheek.

He kissed you on the lips “I love you.” is what he said after y’all’s lips parted.

“I love you too.” You said softly

“Wanna help me with the car?” He asked excitedly stuffing the cupcake in his mouth.

“Oh god, Steve. Yes I will help you with the car.” You laughed at your boyfriend childish ways.

Steve wheeled under the car agian and asked politely “Wrench, please” holding out his hand

“What’s that?” You asked confused

“Oh glory…” He chuckled

#steve randle #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders imagine #steve randle x reader

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starilicious · 4 months

Text

mere haath mein (echo x gn!reader)

》 summary: reader and echo's love story from strangers to friends to lovers throughout the clone wars (a 4+1 type of story)

》 series masterlist: (please read the masterlist before continuing on!)

click here to read on AO3

》 part 3 word count: ~2k

》 part 3 warnings: none

》 part 3 spoilers: none

》 a/n: a bit of a longer part! reader and echo meet again and reader is a lil bit confused, poor thing.

i really took some creative liberty with this chapter and it probably (definitely) does not really reflect what it's like to be fighting in a war in any manner but oh well!!!!! that's the fun of fiction, you get to make up your own world <33

hope u folks like the chapter!

३ (3)

The third time you see him, you’re back on Coruscant, and technically supposed to be on leave. You requested a few days off, much to Fives’ delight and Anakin’s dismay. (“Aw, come on Astro! Your opinion is the only one I can trust on this entire ship when it comes to engineering.” “Oh please Anakin, spare me your whining. You know just as well as I do that you’ll be perfectly fine. But I’ll miss you too.”)

Despite both being part of the 501st, Fives and Echo had very different schedules, and more often than not, Fives’ rotations lined up with yours, leaving you to suffer through his insufferable pick-up lines. You have no idea how you haven’t smacked the banthashit out of him yet. (Fives’ knowing smile always ends up stopping you)

In all seriousness though, he had been pestering you to take a break from your work after quickly seeing the toll it began to take on you. The responsibilities kept piling up and more and more often, you were sacrificing sleep in order to continue making improvements, even despite having your team’s help. In your mind, time couldn’t be wasted when good soldiers were losing their lives, and you would be damned if you didn’t take every opportunity to make sure they lived another day.

But Fives eventually wore you down. (You have a sneaking suspicion he was relaying everything to Echo who then in turn made sure Fives turned his “charm” up to the highest notch to get you to take a break.)

(It worked.)

If anything, you were shocked when you received the message that not only was your leave accepted, but you were encouraged to take a sabbatical for a few weeks.

You weren’t planning on doing so, but after Fives, Prauf, Sonia, and even Rex of all people ganged up on you, you didn’t think you had a choice.

Even now, you’re still not sure what to make of it. Granted, the extra time means you can reach out to family and dust off former projects, but you kind of miss the hustle and bustle of your job. It simply isn’t the same without your friends always nagging you and cracking jokes. You would never tell Fives, but you even miss his terribly endearing flirting.

After the glamour of the sabbatical wore off, you decided to dive headlong into the numerous ideas collected in your engineering notebook over the years. It’s an old gift given to you by your parents, made out of paper and bound by string, encased in a decorated hard-shell cover to protect the inside. Such rarities are difficult to come by these days since datapads are so prevalent, but you always liked the smooth glide of an inkpen against scratchy paper better.

You turn to a new, precious page and meticulously begin fleshing out a prototype. Each line is drawn precisely, every mark exact. As you design, you keep a datapad open with the list of items you need to get. You have a makerspace where you can engineer to your heart’s desire, but there are some select objects you require you doubt you’ll be able to find in the marketplace.

So you head for the makerspace in the engineering garage in the basement of the Senate building on Coruscant. Your office is still there, and you still have your holoid with you–you’ll be in and out in no time.

Or so you thought.

“Astro! It’s good to see you,” a voice calls out. You turn around to find both Ahsoka and Padme side by side, R2-D2 trailing behind Padme’s lovely gown.

“Padme! Ahsoka! I haven’t seen you both in so long,” you greet kindly, eyes curving into crescent moons. R2-D2 beeps indignantly as they stop in front of you and you laugh, bending down to pet the droid’s head affectionately.

“And hello to you too, R2. Anakin making sure that capacitor is working smoothly?” R2 whumps and warbles and you nod in satisfaction.

“For once, he’s actually taking my advice.”

All of you laugh, knowing just how headstrong Anakin is when it comes to technology–or anything, really.

“Why are you here? I thought you were taking some time off?” Ahsoka pipes up, her confusion as clear as day. You shrug in slight embarrassment at getting caught so quickly.

“I wanted to pick up a few things from my office downstairs. Thought I could do something useful to help the war effort even though I’m not here,” you explain and Padme raises an eyebrow.

“Astro, I believe the point of taking leave is to not do work?” she points out and you rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

“Yes, well, this...this is more of a personal project than a work project. I like to keep busy,” you say, hands gripping your bag tightly.

Ahsoka opens her mouth to speak, but Padme places a hand on the Padawan’s shoulder. “In that case, we won’t stop you. But please do take some time for yourself, hm? And you’re always free to stop by anytime,” she says instead, and you nod in agreement, not sure what else to say.

“Take care Astro! See you later!” Ahsoka fills the silence as the three of them begin walking away and you wave back in response.

Once they turn the corner, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, too focused on not slipping up in the conversation. At least that’s over.

You make your way to the makerspace swiftly, not keen on meeting anyone else. You love your friends, but you doubt you can handle any more guilt-tripping. Besides, you’re still taking a break–you don’t really see what the problem is here.

The sharp scent of oil and grease fills your nostrils as you step into the engineering garage, saws and cutters whirring throughout the spacious area. Lights spark here and there and you relax, feeling at home. Before you can make it any farther, your best friend seemingly materializes out of nowhere.

“What the hell are you doing here? Go home,” Prauf exclaims, already trying to push you back out the door. You roll your eyes as you easily duck under his outstretched arm.

“I am, I am! I just came by to pick up a few things–please, for the love of the Maker above, do not tell Sonia. She’s going to rip me apart to shreds if she finds out,” you please, clasping your hands in front of you as Prauf folds his arms over his chest.

He relents, though, sighing out your name in resignation, and you whoop in joy.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou! I promise I’ll make it up to you,” you say as you throw your arms around him and he pats your back gently.

“Yeah, yeah, you owe me,” Prauf agrees. “You should use your time to go on a date with your boyfriend though.”

He darts away back to his work before you can smack his forearm in retaliation because you do not have a boyfriend, thank you very much. Your heart beats faster at the thought anyway.

Instead of following him, you accept defeat retreat to your office to grab the materials you need. You end up needing a cart to tow everything back to your makerspace back home. Realizing you can’t walk back without the high chance of one of your parts being stolen, you opt for grabbing a speeder taxi up at the ship docking bay.

You make your way back upstairs, dodging busygoers this way and that before finally making it to the bay. So close…

But of course, the universe is against you when you see his telltale armor standing near a ship. Oh kriff.

You saw both Ahsoka and R2-D2 today, meaning Anakin and the 501st were probably here too. You can’t believe it didn’t connect the dots in your head sooner. For someone whose life's work is putting things together, it’s ironic you didn’t realize.

In an attempt to make sure he can’t see you, you turn at an angle and try heading for the far end of the hanger as fast as possible, pulling your hat down lower over your eyes to obscure your face.

It doesn’t work.

“Astro?” Echo’s voice calls. You close your eyes in defeat, posture softening into a sag. Damnit. But despite your reluctance at being caught, you can’t help the spark of warmth that shoots through your body at the sound of his warm acknowledgment.

“In the flesh.”

You turn around and Echo jogs up to you, a look on his face you can’t quite decipher. He gazes at you when he ends up in front of you, a small, disarming smile. It seems as if he knows something you don’t.

“Need help?” he gestures to your heavy cart and you look down, momentarily forgetting about it. You don’t comment on your surprise.

“Oh, uh–yeah. Thanks,” you say instead. You step back, but it’s not far enough. Echo bumps into you when he tries sliding into your space to take over. It knocks a breathless laugh out of him and your stomach flips. Whether it’s out of embarrassment or something else entirely, you don’t know.

“I–sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

Echo waves you off nonchalantly. “Don’t apologize, happens all the time. You should have seen Fives yesterday at 79’s. Tup accidentally tripped him and he went careening straight into a commander. And boy did they give him a piece of their mind. All of us were losing it when he came back to our table,” he laughs effortlessly.

You’re suddenly jealous of how natural he is, how easily he smooths over awkward bumps and cumbersome smalltalk. Your hands curl at your sides, unsure of where to place them.

Echo guides you both across the large docking bay, filling the silence gracefully with one story after another, each as funny as the last. You stay quiet most of the time, appropriately laughing at this point and that, inserting a comment here or there. He doesn’t seem to mind though, instead building off of your reactions. It’s almost… relieving.

“And we’re here!” You’re shaken out of your reverie by the exclamation, and you look around to confirm that you indeed have arrived. Wait… how did he even know this is where I wanted to go?

You choose not to dwell too long on the thought.

Echo lets go of his grip on the cart, making space for you to push it. He waves down a driver and instructs them to load your parts into a crate to take on the back of a speeder before turning to you.

“Thanks, Echo. It was nice to see you again,” you remark, lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. He smiles in acknowledgment and something about him pushes you to continue.

You hesitate for a moment before opening your mouth again. “Would… would you like to accompany me back? I’m working on a prototype and I wouldn’t mind an extra set of hands…” you trail off. The offer hangs in the air, uncertain–a lingering question.

Echo’s comm answers for him. He steps back and you feel the same urge as you felt in the cantina all those days ago to pull him back to you, pull him close to you. You stay stuck by the cart.

“As much as I would like to, duty calls,” he says apologetically, echoing your statement from when you first met him. As he walks backwards, he gives you a lazy salute accompanied with a lopsided smile.

“Until we meet again, Astro!”

And with that, he runs off, leaving you alone with the grouchy driver, mumbling about how he doesn’t get paid enough.

It’s only until you get home and unload the equipment that you realize Echo was the only one who didn’t ask why you were there.

---

please consider reblogging! it really helps me and is super encouraging ^_^

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cleavetheclover · 4 months

Text

Like a Shitty Little Guardian Angel

Cypher doesn’t trust Iso.

Like Chamber, his record was just a little too excellent. Served in the Chinese military, moved to a special unit and received specialized Radiant training, defected and began a search for organizations that would make “better use of his talents.” A plain story. Right at the same time that Valorant was looking to hire another Agent.

Inconspicuous and conveniently at right place at the right time…

Just enough so that it tickles the instincts in the back of Cypher’s mind.

Ah, but Cypher is getting ahead of himself. He has no concrete evidence against Iso. Chamber, on the other hand, showed up with the exact blueprints and coordinates and passwords of the entire Fracture site— including information he certainly wouldn’t have access to if he were merely an optical engineer as he described. That was blatant. Something didn’t add up there, and Cypher still hadn’t been able to figure it out.

Not so much with Iso.

Until he was alerted of a Sheriff missing from the Range Armory.

Under normal circumstances Agents could borrow equipment from the Armory for practice drills. Cypher had set an alarm to notify him of any missing equipment, on a timer of six hours or if equipment left the Range. Most of the time they were false alarms (Phoenix, please stop leaving your pistols in the locker room…), but today was different.

Cypher checked the time. A Sheriff had been removed from the Range two minutes ago, half past midnight. Definitely not during draining hours. He flicked through the security system, looking for the culprit, and found the 24th Agent on his way out of the Armory.

Curious. He was carrying the Sheriff by his side, clearly conscious that he had stolen it.

Cypher stood from his chair and slipped out of his office, deciding to tail the Duelist just in case. His own Ghost was holstered on the inside of his coat (a little exception that he technically shouldn’t have, but if anyone knew, no one had ratted on him so far.)

Iso was making his way through the corridors with decisive strides. Every few seconds, Cypher would note his pathway and check the rooms ahead to see if anything of importance might be there. Just in case, he also prepares to activate an emergency call for Sage and Brimstone. They could help if things went south.

Nothing for ten minutes. Their paths cross at about the five minute mark, Cypher intercepting from behind with Iso none the wiser.

The Duelist had passed by all the rooms housing important power banks, servers, computers, laboratories, and workshops. What was he after, then?

Cypher checks the cameras of the rooms ahead. Killjoy’s workshop, darkened. She is out on a mission now. His own workshop (yes, Cypher had ironically circled back here without intending to). Chamber's workshop, dark, the frenchman was a morning person who enjoyed early bedtimes. Omen in a room further ahead, tending to his favorite bonsai.

(He never said it was his favorite, but Cypher knew because it was the one he was always most careful with.)

Cypher leans his back against the wall, watching Iso continue his path down the hall through his cameras. The Duelist shows no interest in any of the workshops, which is a relief to the Sentinel.

Until Iso stops at the room Omen is standing in, and takes aim at Omen's skull.

Omen doesn't even look up.

Cypher curses under his breath and breaks into a run. An assassination? Why? He braces himself for the sound of the Sheriff’s fire and what he knows he must do afterwards— take out Iso, take Omen’s corpse to the medbay, and get Sage to revive him as soon as possible—

But even as he catches up to the corner, no sound has come. Only silence.

Cypher switches to his cam, where he has a good view of both Iso and Omen. The Sheriff is poin muted at the back of Omen’s head, held evenly in Iso’s hand as he stands out in the hallway. The revenant is none the wiser, continuing to clip away at the bonsai.

Iso does not fire. Five seconds. Cypher holds his breath, preemptively drawing his pistol from his coat.

But Iso lowers the gun.

Iso, for whatever reason, has spared Omen’s life. Instead, he has left a device on the table beside the Controller, one too small for Cypher to examine through the camera.

Cypher rounds the corner, leaning against the doorframe as the duelist once again enters the hallway. The Chinese man stares him down, daring him to say anything. Cypher maintains his gaze and wordlessly rolls a tripwire across his knuckles, playing innocent even though both of them know that Cypher was fully aware of the actions Iso had almost taken.

Iso returns the nod.

Good. Now Iso knows that Cypher is keeping an eye on him, and hopefully he won’t try and pull any of this bullshit again.

#lmao I got tired and dropped off at the end #hope it was a fun read anyways #this is about #the weird teaser thing riot just put out?#valorant #valorant cypher #cypher #omen #iso

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elenavr13 · 1 year

Text

Phantom

Engineer Mark x Captain

Warning: None

*a week after ISWM*

*Despite the crystal being removed from the Captain’s hand, they can still feel it.*

Y/N’S POV

Needles poke & jab at my skin under the thick, protective gloves. Pushing the tingling feeling to the back of my mind, I refocus my attention on the mission: return to my tent to retrieve some spare technical equipment to repair some of the damages the last electrical storm caused.

“Theses aren’t second chances. Every mistake has cost the lives of people who have trusted you.” Lady’s words ring in my head again. Like I had all the previous times today, I push the memories to the back of my mind & bottle up my anxiety so I don’t break.

Once in my tent, I head towards the boxes of spare parts that are temporarily residing in the corner of my quarters. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a blue light shining on the boxes. I follow the hue to the source. “Couldn’t afford to let you make another mistake.” Stinging pain spikes through my palm & wrist.

“No, no, no…” I screw my eyes shut yet when I open them again, the crystal is still embedded in my hand. My fingers rip my glove off of my left hand. To my dismay, the blue shard remains. Guilt burns in my chest as my head pounds hard against my skull. Warm streaks cascade down my cheeks, turning ice cold once they reach my jaw line.

“I don’t know if you’re evil or just stupid!” There is that voice. “How could you do this to us? We trusted you. I trusted you, Captain!” Betrayal stings my ears, burrowing into my heart.

“I’m sorry.” I whimper.

“It all comes down to bad leadership.” My palm throbs from the heat the crystal is generating. “You’ve let down your crew, friends…all of these people trusted you with their lives, gone…all because of you.” The voices back me into a corner of the room. Pain floods my hand from the crystal corroding my skin. I pry at the blue stone with my other hand.

“I can’t go back, please not again, not now.” My pleas are futile. I desperately try to remove the crystal but my suffering only worsens –just like whenever I tried to shut down the wormhole. Skin cells collect under my nails but still no progress. Red mixes with the blue light.

“You reckless, careless, idiotic monster!”

“Stop!” I can’t take it anymore. My knees collide with the floor before my back hunches over. Spasms wrack my body from me holding in any & all sound while I sob.

“Captain!” The voice frets. Suddenly two hands grasp my shoulders. “Captain, it’s okay. I’m here. What’s wrong?” Worry reflects off Mark’s eyes.

“I-I can’t go back, please.” I glance at my hand to see…no crystal. My tears stop from shock. It was just there.

Mark takes notice of my palm as well. “Captain, wh-what happened?” His fingers delicately cup my hand for a second before he dashes to the med kit near the entrance. He returns with a disinfecting wipe & gauze. “How did this happen?” I watch as he carefully holds my hand again to clean my scratches.

“I…it…the crystal, it…”

“Shh, it’s okay. Just breathe. You’re safe now.” I scrunch my nose while he dabs the little blood away. Then gently, he wraps the gauze around my hand, hiding the large scar from where the crystal previously resided. “Better?” I nod. His thumbs brush the remaining tears off my cheeks. We remain in each other’s company in silence for a minute before Mark’s thoughts get the best of him. “Why didn’t you tell me the crystal left a scar?”

“Because I didn’t want to make you feel worse. You’re already going through too much as is. I didn’t want to rub it in that…it left a permanent mark.” His eyes fixate on my bandaged hand as memories most likely run through his head. “You don’t have to worry. It doesn’t really hurt.”

“Captain, don’t lie to me. I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re going through.”

Reluctantly, I loosely admit what occurred. “It occasionally burns like it would right before it would teleport me somewhere new & I…got scared that it would send me back.”

“Is it still burning?” I nod. Gently, his hand clasps around mine with a light squeeze. The throbbing gradually dissipates. “How about now?” A small smile pulls at my lips. With another squeeze the pain nearly subsides fully.

“It helps. Thank you.”

#iswm head engineer #iswm captain #iswm #in space with markiplier #markiplier ego x reader #youtuber ego #reader insert #space mark #markiplier

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flameohotpotatooo · 26 days

Text

The silver thread

Chapter 1: Did you miss me?

Word count: 5k

Summary: After Hosea went dark in your regular exchange of letter, you heard the news of your old gang and family, how Blackwater heist went down and they escaped. Now you go back to check on them, halting your operation in New York for your family, but it's deeper than what you think.

Tags: Mention of death, not proof read, also english is not my first language so I'm trying, no use of y/n instead it's MC, I'm not american my knowledge comes from researching and media, idk how tags work tell me what to add.

You had to put everything down back in New York to get to the Blackwater. The news of what had transpired was all over the news.

“BLACKWATER LOCKDOWN!”

“BANK BOAT HEIST LARGEST ROBBERY IN YEARS. DUTCH'S BOYS ACCUSED. BOUNTIES PLACED.”

Sending a telegraph to Trelwany in saint Denis to scout and gather information while you handled your business. He was closer than any of your men, and had the connection with the gang and common thieves to get what you needed. As you told him, you set up a meeting a saloon in which you rented whole so nobody can eavesdrop. You had your crow, and 5 men with you in this worrisome mission.

So you are waiting for him, in a rented room in the Blackwater saloon, the window is open letting the chill air in, and your friendly crow sit on the fence. You are looking over a map of the area, marked places you think they might have had hole up there. South and South east is out of question. The place is technically dead end, so it’s north where they run… a straight line up to belly of the storm, in snowy mountains of Grizzles.

You pulled the same plan before. When Hosea took you in, the four of you ran somewhere the law couldn’t run after you. It wasn’t a freezing mountain tops back then but still, Dutch probably hasn’t changed that much.

A series of knock on the door, followed by a pauses and rapid knocks indicates the passcode from your WatchGuard. Trelawney is here, you unlock the door and let the gentleman in.

“My apologize for the delay madam.” He takes off his top hat with a bow, ever so theatrically flourish. “Our boys had made such a mess; it was a delicate work not to attract attention with asking around.”

“How is your wife?” you say, gesturing him to sit as you pour a glass of wine. “Is Saint Denis up to your standards?” He sits and takes the offered glass, looking over to the map you have on display, with a pin on the mountains.

“She only found disappointment in leaving her dear friend behind.” He jokes, following your movement as you take a sit mirroring his, he turns his gaze back to the map as he swirls the wine in glass to let it breathe. “Uh, you truly have sharp wits on you.” he then pulls out a cutout newspaper from his pocket and hands it to you.

“PITCHED BATTLE LEAVES MANY DEAD.

OUTLAWS SEND TRAIN ON DRIVERLESS JOURNEY.

OWNED BY LEVITICUS CORNWALL”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration as you read the article.

“A private train owned by the railroad, sugar and oil magnate Leviticus Cornwall was robbed in broad daylight by masked outlaws. Headed North towards the Grizzlies, the outlaws boarded and stopped the train shortly after it had departed from West Elizabeth. Initial cables sent as of printing time indicate the bloody takeover occurred in order to steal railroad bonds from the personal car of Mr. Cornwall.

Shortly after the robbery, the train was set in motion without a driver or crew, barreling dangerously through the area at a high rate of speed. The train was eventually brought to a stop by engineers and lawmen north of Annesburg, who reported a scene of violent struggle and bloody carnage of board.

Some engineers and guards from the train survived the slaughter but were too startled to report much information of value to authorities.”

“Cornwall? Is he that disparate?” you crumble the paper and toss it into the fire. Too angered to think rational at the moment you stand and walk back and forth.

“Indeed it appears he is. They have lost some men in this endeavor. The Callanders are dead, a young girl named Jenny Kirk from the gang was also killed, the Irish boy, Sean, taken.” He pauses, taking in your restless expression already piecing together your plan and continues, “It is said that Dutch has killed a young lady, innocent and without fault.”

You had to take a moment to think this over. Did you hear that right?

“But…” maybe he has changed to your worst fears. This wasn’t something the old Dutch you knew would do. “What about Arthur?” you can’t help but to wonder out loud. If Dutch has changed into a merciless man, has Arthur changed to something you wouldn’t recognize him?

He always sought Dutch’s approval, he would command ‘jump’ and Arthur would ask ‘how high?’

Trelawney lets the silence linger for your sake, so you can gather your thoughts before you square up your shoulders, having a semi solid plan form in your head. “Where are we going?” he asks, finishing his wine and putting the glass aside.

“Find whereabouts on Sean.” You order, looking at your raven, and it tilts its head looking back at you. “I have a meeting before catching up to them.”

You had a hard time convincing the Wapiti tribe into trusting you to get a mutual ground of helping. Whereas the chieftain, Rains fall, was a calm collected man, easy to talk to, his son was impatient and hot headed, hard to reason with but easy to manipulate.

You don’t blame him though, you had to sit with their shaman and converse about what you need to see, before planning a careful route for all of you.

“Cornwall is a greedy man, drove you out of your house.” You argued, “He will chase you out of here too.”

Rains fall thought you wanted war, so did his son. Eagle flies was all for fighting Cornwall men out of the land, and Rains fall had to chime in his worry of not wanting to fight in their condition. It’s the only ways they know of, but you’ve been in the privilege of being in higher power ranks of society.

“Fighting face to face and front with someone who has power of words is…” you don’t want to insult them, “not ideal and results in a lost.”

“You kill him in silence?” Eagle flies was a bit too excited to think you’re planning an assassination.

“No.” you smile at him, oh to be young. “Give me time, and you’ll see it.” you reassure them.

Before you can continue, sound of rapid stomps running towards your tent. “Chief!” Paytah jumps in, a slight bow in head, addressing to everyone. “The people you told us to watch over are moving.”

You nod to him in appreciation, and look at Rains fall, “I will inform you on what I’m doing. Continuing with Miller’s attempt wouldn’t harm my plan.” He can’t really do anything.

“Very well. We see you off.” He states as he rises, followed by his son. “When she comes back, I’ll send word to you.”

“Thanks, chief.” You bow slightly.

You step out of the tent and look at the men you brought from New York. “Boys, scatter. The eyes are near now. Dames,” you give a piece of paper of massage to one of them, “Send a telegraph to Evangeline back in New York.” He nods and all of them depart for their destination. Each taking a particular area among themselves.

On the ride with three Wapitis, anxiety is crashing your brain, that you didn’t realized they left your sides and you’re moving forward on your own. You didn’t think what would you say as greetings in such time, after how you left 5 years ago…

‘Miss me?’ no, it sounds like a psychopath.

‘You like jazz?’ has jazz made its way here?

‘Should I clean up after you boys?’ what exactly have you done yet to be considered cleaning after their mess? This line is so cringe too.

‘Howdy, pardners?’ WHAT IS THAT!?

Why is it so hard to talk to people? Maybe you can go forward and look at them till they talk to you? How about…

Your anxious train of thoughts is interrupted by the sound of a crash, and someone cussing.

“I broke the goddamn wheel.” You look up to see, Arthur pulling the reins of horses and jump down, followed by Hosea and another man.

“Alright, let’s get it fixed.” Hosea says, as he looks at the broken wheel.

“You need help?” you say in sync with the other man, as you jump down your horse, keeping your head low, face hidden by brim of your hat.

“I reckon we can handle it, ma’am.” Hosea eyes you, suspicious. “Mr. Smith you and me hold the thing up…”

“I insist.” You step forward, closer to Hosea and smile at him, “I ain’t letting my pa do the hard work.” You announce, cheerfully.

It took a bit of second for him to get his reaction before laughing and pulling you into a hug. “Arthur! Looks who’s here!”

You laugh and hug him back. “Yeah, I missed you too old man. Now let get your wagon fix?”

“Charles, this is MC.” He introduces you to the quiet gentleman, with long dark locks, and sepia colored skin, and sharp eyes watching you, then glancing at Arthur. “MC, I think I wrote of Charles in last the paper.”

You glance at Arthur out of the corner of your eye, seeing his unpleased expression. He’s trying to busy himself with the wheel, checking a spot on it which you’re sure he’s been staring at it just to avoid you.

“Nice to meet ya, Charles. Mindin’ I give a hand in this?” you point to the wagon and stand beside him.

“go ahead.” You both crouch, and Hosea picks up a hammer.

“Arthur!” He calls for Arthur, who’s deeply invested in wood texture of the wheel.

“On it.” Arthur answers back, and rolls it towards you.

You and Charles pull the wagon up, you’d expected to be heavier than this, only to realize Charles is basically carrying the wagon.

Holy shit, is this man made of steel? You try to ease his work and help him as much as you can.

“And… there. Put it down.” Hosea taps the wheel few more times just to make sure. “Good to go now.”

You smile at Charles, in mixture of appreciation and apologetic manner.

“Okay let’s get movin’.” Hosea takes back his sit as the shotgun, Charles jumps on the back of the wagon.

You look at Arthur, as he’s still insisting on silent treatment and giving you the cold shoulder.

What a child…

You whistle low for your horse, Midnight.

He’s a black Turkman horse, with Wapiti kids braided his tail and mane. You mount up and ride along the wagon. “You boys made a big splash, eh? Came to visit you, only found the town swarming with Pinkertons.” You look at them, tilting your head.

“If life was predictable, it be boring.” Hosea comments, chuckling a little bit and searching in his satchel. He’s cheery to see you, that’s for sure; but that laugh? He’s worried. He can hide his worries well in front of most people, but even after so time not seeing him, you can practically see the lines dancing around his head.

You were about to say something about that, when all your eyes catch the three wapiti men. They keep watching as your wagon moves on the road, not hiding, but in the plain sight.

Your eye meets their gazes from distance, and after a silent warning on their side, or silent prayer, they ride away.

“What you think?” Arthur finally breaks his silence.

“If they wanted trouble, we wouldn't have seen them.” Charles replies calmly.

“They never want trouble…” You whisper, “It’s other way around.”

“Poor bastards. We really screwed them over down here” Hosea shakes his head.

“What happened?” Arthur asks, urging the horses to go forward.

“We'll follow the river, then cut left inland.” Hosea instructs, pointing to the way ahead. “the Indians in these parts got sold a very raw deal. This is the Heartlands we're going to.” He has his old mortar and pestle in his hand, “Good farming and grazing country. They lost it all.” He shakes his head, in pity, “Stolen, clean away from them, it was, every blade of grass. Killed or herded up to the reservations in the middle of nowhere.”

“How's that different from anywhere else?” Charles asks, a mock in his tone as he’s still watching where the Wapiti stood.

“Well, maybe it's not. I just heard some of the army out here was particularly unpleasant about it.”

You and Charles scoff at the same time.

“Unpleasant. How do you rob and kill people pleasantly? We don't, in spite of Dutch's talk.” Charles shakes his head, a bitter smile on his lips.

“Not anymore we don’t” You whisper to yourself, not known to you, Arthur heard it.

“I fear I was perhaps trying to simplify something more complicated for the benefit of our block-headed driver here.” Hosea jabs Arthur in ribs as he jokes.

You smile. Despite yourself, you missed this. You missed the jokes, the gang… the freedom of once again riding in the wild.

“Hey, don't blame it on me.” Arthur laughs, heartedly, “Never forget this here's a con-man, Charles, born and bred. Just because he sounds fancy don't mean he knows a damn thing about what he's talking about.”

“Well,” Are you in position to joke with Arthur at the moment? You bite back at your lip and direct it at Hosea instead. “Least is, you can bullshit your way, till you have a smart mouth and an attitude.”

“True that.”

A small silent falls in between the three of you. Hosea feeling the tension, and knowing you two, decides to cut in. “What happened to your tribe?” He asks Charles.

Charles takes a fast glance your way before answering; “I don't even know if I have one, at least not that I can remember.” It’s either he has moved on from the feelings, or he’s really good at keeping his words neutral. You decide it’s both and the fact of not talking in details. “My father was a colored man.” He states a fact, that is enough to explain subtexts everyone can pick up on. “He told me he lived with our people for a while, a number of free men did. But when we were forced to move from our lands, the three of us fled. I was too young to really remember much. My whole life I've been on the run.”

You dig in your pocket to hand him a flask of gin you carry, with a nod and sympathy smile. He nods his thanks and continues, “A couple of years later, some soldiers captured my mother, took her somewhere. We never saw her again. We drifted around. He was a very sad man and the drink had a mean hold on him. Around 13, I just took off on my own.” He smells the gin, and takes a small sip and hands it back.

“That was about the age we found these two here, maybe a little older.” He then points to Arthur with his head, “A wilder delinquent you never did see, but he learned fast.”

“Not as fast as Marston and MC, apparently.” He glares at you for a second and you answer the glare with the same energy.

“Wait, I don't understand. What’s the problem between you three?” Charles looks between you and Arthur.

“Yeah Arthur. What’s the problem?” You ask, with a gritted teeth smile. You really don’t understand what his problem is. First you used to think it was about Annabelle, same reason Dutch got distant from you, but the last time you visit, it was clearly not that.

“It's a long story.” He looks at the road ahead, again, ignoring you. “We still headed the right way?

Hosea looks between you and Arthur, and sighs. “That depends. Are we still heading West in search of fortune and repose in virgin forest as we planned? No. Are we heading in the correct direction on our desperate escape from the law eastwards down the mountains? Yes, I believe so.”

“We moving too east, we’ll be in New York by Christmas.” Arthur jokes, or better, shoots the insult at you.

“Well, at least you visit me once, and in Christmas too? You’re the perfect gift Mr. Morgan.” You bite back at him, with a so friendly smile.

“You know this area?” Charles asks Hosea, really uneasy by the energy crackling between Arthur and you.

“A little. I've been through a couple of times. There's a livestock town not too far from here called Valentine. Cowboys, Outlaws, working girls, our kind of place.” Hosea somewhat used to us bickering and barking at one on another, answers, unfazed.

“O'Driscolls?” Arthur asks.

“Probably them too.”

“Pinkertons?”

“Let’s hope not.”

“You chose Horseshoe overlook? It’s a nice place to lie low.” You chime in, seizing the moment of slow riding, you feed Midnight an oatcake.

“how low do you think Dutch is really going to lie? It's just, you know,” Hosea chews on his words before voicing them out, “maybe it's me that's changed and not him, but we kept telling him not that ferry job didn't feel right.” He gestures to Arthur and himself, “Arthur and me had a real lead in Blackwater that could have worked out.”

It did work out… For someone else.

“Life ain’t predictable now, issit?” You voice his old comment back to him, and he rolls his eyes. It's not like Dutch to ignore Hoses's words, Arthur's? Sometimes but never his old friend.

“It just isn't like Dutch to lose his head like that.” Hosea says slowly.

Does he mean the girl he killed in there? Or something else had happened in the mountains.

“Things go wrong sometimes. People die. That's the way it is, always has been. Me, you, Dutch,” He pauses, “MC, we've all been in this line of work a long time and we're still here, so I figure we must've got it right a hell of a lot more than we got it wrong.”

You look at him for a moment. It must be hard on Dutch to loose people. He’s not someone who can walk away from people. If he’s making decisions on the run, with much pressure on his shoulders?

Pinkertons are after the gang. Why they aren’t talking about a scape plan? Maybe you should wait and talk to Dutch.

You’re close to Van Horn. Considering how much money they have from the job… wait…

“You got no money.” You whisper, eyes widened as the reason of this desperation shows itself. Dutch is alone as a leader, he’s whom the whole gang look up to as a savior. A picture he painted of himself as a forgiving father, never yielding, never losing… now he seemed to lose and is scared to lose more.

You look to your immediate right, where Arthur is sitting on the wagon, jaw clenched, knuckles turned white from the peer pressure he’s fisting them on the reins.

Oh dear…

This does interfere with parts of your plan. You thought they ran away with the money so their escape route gets clear and they can be on their way with the cash; But no cash, means they’re at the rock bottom.

Of course! The Cornwall train.

You sigh, massaging your temples. The conversation between Arthur and Hosea fades back in your head, as you piece another plan together.

You got to see the steps of what destiny puts in front of you, before you can save them one by one.

“There you are, brother. Head in there. Follow the track for a bit.” You hear the sing song Mexican accent, and you can’t help but sit straight and look at the source.

“Javi!” You exclaim, excited as you see the dashing fellow step out of the tree line.

“Oh my god,” He cheers in Spanish, “My eyes deceive me?”

“Jump up.” You stop and help him up on Midnight, “How are you?” You reply in Spanish.

“What you doing here? How you found us?” He asks, turning back into English.

“Good question.” Arthur shouts back. “How DID you find us?”

“How ‘bout I tell Dutch that and don’t waste my breath?” You snap towards Arthur and turn back to Javier. “I knew of this place. Hosea and Bessie took me here way back. Thought I can find you here after running away from Blackwater.”

He nods, scratching his chin. “How long you staying, though?” He has one casual hand on side of your hip from behind.

“I came to visit. If y’all are alright… I should head back then.”

“Pretty convenient of ye, don’cha think?” Arthur puts on a cigarette between his lips, and strikes a match by his side.

If your glare could drill holes in his skull, he would look like Swiss cheese. “Hosea didn’t write me back for a month.” It’s not a lie and also every two months you send letters to each other. “You stopped some years back, I asked Hosea if you died, hopefully.”

“Stay disappointed lady. I ain’t plannin’ on leavin’ just yet.”

“There’s hopin’.” You mumble, for a second forgot Javier was behind you and see his grin widening and looks between you two.

“It’s on again, ey?” he teases as he nudges your side in respond you just groan and see the camp ground approaching.

The lake can provide fruitful for resources, and the trees are hiding the spot pretty well. The location is close to a small town, not too near to draw attention though.

The gang is already in middle of making the floor panels for Dutch’s tent, and… is that a man tied to a pole?

The man looks weak and miserable. God, you pity him.

With the wagon approaching, some eyes look your way, and the familiar faces you know have a double take, not expecting to see you here.

“Oh, look ‘er.” You hop down from Midnight, a little boy was sitting near the entrance. From what John told you 3 or 4 years ago, and the letters from Hosea, this should be Jack. “Hi!” you smile and bend down. The kid shifts nervous, and looks at his mother close behind him.

Abigail puts down a crate she was carrying and walks over, crouching beside Jack to his ear level. “Jack.” In a kind type of warning, she looks at him, signaling him you greeted him, now it’s his turn.

“I’m MC.” You say, extending your hand. Is this how kids work? You don’t know. It’s been a long time you talked to a kid. “I’m friends’ of your ma.”

Jack steals another glance at Abigail before accepting your hand, “Hello ma’am. I’m Jack.”

Oh dear, he’s so sweet…

“ ‘s great to meet ya.” You smile and look at Abigail with a smile as you both stand.

“Go ‘long, Jack. See what you find around.” Abigail urges Jack to go, and he takes the chance immediately and runs off.

“ABBY!” You exclaim, and she pulls you into a hug, the happy screeches alerts others, and heads turn your way.

You missed the gang, dearly. There are new faces you meet, like the stand-offish girl in Dutch’s tent Molly, Charles that you met, and the boy tied to the pole named Kieran. Mary-beth and Abigail also told you about a new member Dutch brought from the mountains named Saddie Adler. She’s grieving yet, so they leave her to her peace most of times; there’s also a young boy named Lenny and another man named Micah that have gone ahead to scout.

They didn’t talk much about Micah, the expressions told you enough to keep away from him, but Lenny seems like a type you can talk with “All big brains and books of yers.” As put in by Karen.

With all this people around, the more job there is to tidy the camp, so Mrs. Grimshaw is grumpier than who you remembered her be. Before, she could talk with Bessie and Annabelle, and was in lighter mood… now seems she aged 10 years instead, and girls see her as a mean bitter woman. You can’t relate, being there when she first came into the gang; but saying she wasn’t always like this, makes you sound ancient.

Honestly, you dread meeting Dutch. Last time you saw him, was before Annabelle’s death. You’re still scared he might blame you for it. He’s the last man you encounter in the camp, as he was standing by the lake, accompanied by his right hand men.

“Miss. Prince!” He greets, nodding your way with a polite smile. “Came down from your tall buildings to visit your humble family?”

“You’re anything but, Dutch.” You tease as you walk towards him. “Was worried I didn’t get any papers from you, then I heard the news. Feared something happened to y’all.”

“something did happen, dear.” He shakes his head, putting a cigar between his lips and striking a match to light it. “But we survived.” He opens his arms gesturing to scenery around him like he’s a prophet, a savior, trying to show case his new miracle.

“For now.” Hosea adds.

“Now it is time to prosper.” Dutch deflects Hosea’s concerned tone.

“Arthur and I were about to prosper in Blackwater.” Hosea protests, gesturing to Arthur and himself. “We were onto something big. Then Micah got you all excited about that ferry and here we are.”

This seems unlikely Dutch gets tips from someone other than the famous two he trusts. Also the job was so unreliable to be a good tip. Is this Micah a new outlaw and shoots in the dark? Then Dutch wouldn’t’ve listen to him.

“We have all made mistakes over the years, Hosea, every last one of us.” There he goes, getting defensive “But I kept us together. Kept us alive. Kept the noses off our neck”

So much for keeping the noses off their necks when they have Pinkertons and Cornwall on their trail. And as to alive? There are 3 to possible 4 corpses disagreeing. Together? Sure.

“I guess I'm just worried.” Hosea sighs, shaking his head “I ain't got that long, Dutch. I want folks safe before I go.”

It always pained you how he accepted his death already but ever since his sickness and Bessie’s passing, he showed you there’s a way to redemption. Yet it hurts when someone you hold dear is so ready to die and go away.

You step a little further, giving them space for their talk.

“Me too.” You hear Dutch, also voicing his worries.

“You’re deep in thought.” You bump Arthur with your shoulder.

He looks down towards you, “Just thinking ahead.”

“You don’t see all the plays to think ahead.” You tilt your head, “I can show you though.”

He’s about to respond, but a German accent cuts through both conversations, “Gentlemen, I am going to head into the local town and see if I can strike up a little business.” Straus tips his head towards the 4 of you.

“Of course, Herr Straus.” Dutch nods as the gentleman walks away and talks to rest of you, “I prefer robbing banks to usury, seems more dignified somehow.”

“Of course it does,” you wrinkle your nose, “Poor folk don’t afford banks.” You hated when Dutch brought that shark loaner, but defying Dutch so openly is only allowed for Hosea and occasionally Uncle who jesters his way out of Dutch’s wrath.

“Desperate times, calls desperate choices.” He inhales his smoke and flickers the ash aside, “Providing for a gang in these areas, there’s no more fancy options.”

“Of course.” You don’t want to argue with him out of the gate, you just hang your head low and let the man walk back to the crowd and have his speech.

“Now, everyone, put your tools down for a moment. Come on, gather round. Quickly now.” He gestures for them to gather around him, “I know that things have been tough, but we are safe now and we were far too poor. It is time for everyone to get to work.”

“Get to work, but stay out of trouble.” Hosea instructs. “Remember, we are itinerant workers.”

“Laid off when they shut down our factory to the north.” He puts loops his thumbs in his gun belt, “Now get out there and see what you can find. Uncle, Reverend Swanson, no more passengers.” He points to the men in question then to you, “It goes for you too, Miss Prince. As long as you stay in the gang, of course. It is time for everyone to earn their keep.” You nod, following his words like always.

“There's a town little way down the track name of Valentine, livestock town, all mud and morons, if I remember right. That seems a decent place to start.” Hosea continues the speech, in which Pearson chimes in to remind everyone about the shortage of food.

You stride towards Arthur who was checking his sleeping quarters the girl put together around for him. “Shaking off the cold coat?”

“Heartlands are warm enough to make me sweat without. How’s New York this time of year? Cold?”

“Honestly?” you scoff, shaking your head, “No idea.”

He looks at you, questioning. “What you mean?”

“I told you, I was training.” You tap your foot on the ground, looking at the dust in front of you.

“Yeah, you was training 10 years ago.” He frowns. “Reckon you said it was about to finish.”

“Oh, so you read my letters?” you fold your arms in front of your chest. “I’m busy.”

“And yet,” he walks towards you, standing a foot apart “You don’t seem busy leaving to come here because Hosea didn’t write you a week later.”

You look up at him, still same eyes you remember from all the years. You tried to memorize them all the years you didn’t gaze into them, but now? Each time it seems to hypnotize you all over again.

Why is there so much hurt in his eyes when he looks at you? What have you done to hurt him like this? “I was scared…” you whisper between the two of you, “That something had happened.”

“Nothing happened to your concerns, your majesty.” He has a bitter mocking tone to his smile. “You can leave again.” And he walks around you, out of his tent.

You stare at his pictures beside his bed, pinned to the wagon. The picture of Cooper, and the picture of four of you; with Hosea and Dutch standing behind both of you. Seems the second picture of that day has been lost to the years.

You sigh.

You have to save them from this swamp they’re drowning in, whether he likes you or not. That’s what you promised each other after all.

#rdr #arthur morgan #rdr fanfiction #rdr fandom #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #john marston #abigail roberts #jack marston #molly oshea

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weirdlyhornyforegos · 2 years

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Engineer Mark x reader

Anon: do you also do egos from iswm ? if you do, can you do head engineer mark x gender neutral reader with prompt 4. "Stop talking and take off your clothes." "why would you say that! I tried so hard to make you happy and now you're your hands are distracting me."

MINORS DNI!!! Oh hell yeah ofc I do, I love me some engineer :3 I did intend to write something a little different and cut it off before any sex happened, but that changed lol

Warnings: topping from the bottom, dom-ish reader, engineer is called good boy and baby, unprotected sex, fingering

Wordcount: 1.7k+

Mark had tried to set up the perfect date.

Keyword here being tried.

He had booked the holograph deck to set up a picnic there, but then something in it broke and all the screen would show were swamps and sandstorms, which can hardly be called romantic.

He adds the room to the list of things that need to be repaired, and tries to come up with alternatives.

Meeting rooms? No, too corporate, too much to do with work.

The plant nursery? Again, work, not either of yours, but it still wasn’t a good spot for a date.

The cafeteria? Nope, too many people, and he wants it to be just the two of you.

Mark curses the fact that neither of you are supposed to be down on the planet surface for at least another week, and he knows the two of you being together is already bending the rules, so he doesn’t want to push any more.

So this is why when you arrive at your captain’s quarters after you finish today’s shift, wanting nothing more than to just see your boyfriend, you find Mark sitting cross-legged on a picnic blanket where your coffee table and couch normally stand.

The lights are dimmed, he’s surrounded by (fake) candles, a closed basket, and holds out a glass towards you.

The door slides closed and you walk closer to Mark, taking the glass that is offered.

“What is this?”

“It’s just apple juice, no alcohol allowed on the ship.” You huff fondly at him, taking a sip while maintaining eye contact.

“Yes, I know that, but I was talking about all this.” You gesture to your current surroundings as you sit down in front of Mark, your own legs crossed.

“Oh! You mentioned that we should get a proper date when we get on the surface and get some time off, but uh, I didn’t want to wait.” You can tell he’s a little embarrassed, and it's so cute.

Cute, and also very attractive.

It makes your heart swell to hear that he planned something just because you had offhandedly mentioned wanting a full date with him, not just the quick meetings between and after work, and the occasional movie nights spent alone instead of together with the rest of the crew.

You shift to your knees, shuffling closer so you can take Mark’s face in your hands, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs.

By all that is holy, he smiles at you, hands resting on his knees and closing his eyes as he leans into your touch. He starts to speak, still keeping his eyes closed.

“I know it’s not much but I tried. I gotta tell you, I tried booking the holodeck first, but there was some sort of technical fault, and it wou-”

"Stop talking and take off your clothes." His eyes pop open at that, spluttering for a second before finding his voice again.

"Why would you say that! I tried so hard to make you happy and now you're- your hands are distracting me."

“That was kinda the point.” You say as you push the flight-suit off his shoulders, already having unzipped the zipper. “I think it’s so cute what you’ve done for me, and for that I think I want to ride you right here on this blanket. You okay with that?” A few seconds of silence, then a nod, then the both of you are stripping as fast as you can.

As soon as the both of you are naked, you get into Mark’s lap, arms around his neck as you grind down on him, relishing in how pretty the low moan that escapes his throat is.

You kiss him as you tug on his hair, wanting to keep him close. Mark seems to be of the same sentiment, as his hands on your back pushes you forward and against him. He groans into your mouth, and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth.

Mark is so warm against you, and the picnic blanket underneath your knees is surprisingly soft.

You back away slightly, but only so one of your hands can go down between your bodies and grasp at his cock.

He’s hard in your hand, already leaking pre-cum, which you spread over the head of his cock with your thumb. He moans against your lips, and you have to break the kiss because of your satisfied grin.

“Am I making you feel good?” Mark nods, and you kiss his cheek, giving his cock a few pumps, Mark’s hands twitching against the already heated skin on your back. “Good, it’s a reward for being an absolute sweetheart for me.”

“I always want to be good for you, I want to spoil you.” Once more your heart swells.

“I love to hear it baby. Now, I’m going to get off of you, but only to grab lube okay?” Mark licks his lips and nods, his hands falling away.

You get up, but like you promised, it’s only so you can grab the lube from your bedside drawer.

As you turn around to return to him, you catch Mark unashamedly looking at your ass.

“Like what you see?” You tease, and he smiles at you.

“What’s the saying? Hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go?” You roll your eyes at him, but return to his lap nonetheless, lube now in hand.

Mark takes it from you, quick to open it and lube up his fingers. Seconds later his fingers dance down your ass before settling at your hole. One finger is pushed in first, and you put your arms around his neck again.

“Be a good boy and open me up.” A whine escapes Mark at that, and you can tell he’s blushing at the nickname, certainly remembering previous times it was used.

“I like it when you call me that.” He admits as he pushes another finger in, the two fingers inside of you working you slowly open for him.

“Oh, I know, why do you think I keep using it.” He huffs out a laugh at that, and you try to do the same, but it transforms into a moan as Mark crocks his fingers and makes pleasure zip up your spine.

He grins, and he looks so proud of himself that you can’t help but kiss him.

Your tongue immediately at his lips, he just as quickly opens his mouth for you. His tongue meets your own, and the kisses stays heated as Mark’s fingers move in and out of you.

Two at first, but with only a little time and some more lube, that transforms into three. You grind against his fingers, and in turn his cock, making it so both of you moan and gasp, hardly being able to keep kissing.

When you feel that you’re good to go, you break the kiss, stilling your hips, making Mark whine again. You shush him, brushing his cheek with your lips, before moving to whisper in his ear.

“Be a good boy and fuck me.” Mark takes his fingers out of you, and you only have a moment to feel empty before the head of his cock pushes inside of you.

You groan, sinking down on his cock as he also pushes you down on him with his hands on your hips.

You let yourself adjust to him, clenching around Mark some to get a groan out of him. You know he wants to move, but he’s keeping still for you, and you know he would let you stay like this for hours if you wanted.

Instead you push at his chest, making him lean back some, and then his back is fully against the floor. Your hands rest on his abdomen, feeling it flex underneath your fingers.

“I said I was going to ride, did I not?” And with that, you raise yourself up, and then sink back down on him. Mark’s breath hitches as you move, his hands on your hips flexing, moving ever so slightly to get a better grip on you.

You set a slow pace at first.

Just sinking up and down on Mark’s cock like you don’t have a care in the world other than just this.

And you don’t, at least for now.

All of your focus is on how good his cock feels inside of you, and how pretty he looks underneath you, and how good he sounds as you ride him.

He groans, whines, and moans, the sounds intertwining and sounding like music to your ears.

You know how close he is to begging with the way he bites his lips and how his legs twitch as he keeps from moving up against you, but tonight it’s about rewarding him, about showing how happy he made you planning this date.

So you speed up.

This makes Mark moan so loud that if he hadn’t personally ensured you that your cabin is soundproof, you would think others might have heard him.

He sounds so pretty as he moans and groans beneath you. Your hands are on his chest, and you lean some of your weight on him as you speed up.

“Come on Mark, be a good boy and fuck into me.” He moves up against you, pushing his hips up as you push yours down. The sound of skin against skin is loud in the room, mixing with the sound of both you and Mark’s moans.

You can tell he is close to coming, and so are you, so you start to move your hand against your own dripping arousal, but your hand is soon replaced by Mark’s.

“Want to make you come.” He grins up at you, and you groan as his hand moves against you, making you clench around him, which in turn makes him groan.

“Do it, make me come baby, be a good boy and make me come with you.” Only seconds later he makes you cum, his hand and his cock making you fall apart above and around him.

The feeling of you cumming makes him cum too, and he fills you up with his cum.

He sits up as the last drops of his cum flow into you, yanking you in for a deep and messy kiss.

As you break it, you can’t help but put your hands in his hair, grinning at him.

“Hope there’s some food in that basket of yours because I think we could need that now.” Mark laughs, and you’re right there alongside him.

#engineer mark x reader #engineer!mark x reader #engineer!mark x captain #engineer mark #engineer mark x captain #engineer!mark #engineer #my writing #smut #lemon

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literalite · 1 year

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17, 25, 38, 39, 40 for suniko 🥲😭 WAAAAAAAAA

17. who made the first move? what was it?

depends what we're quantifying as a first move 😳 if its first wilful physical contact its niko- after they have their first kind of fight i guess (sunny's fault, he overstepped trying to be funny and endes up more hurtful💀) which snowballed somewhat into sunny drunkenly admitting his own perspective on his past i suppose. niko gives him a big hug and its the first time they r like touching each other on purpose

if we're going with an action thats something other than pure friendly intention, it'd be sunny kind of just... hm giving niko things while he's unaware? tucks him in when he's passed out too exhausted to do it on his own and stuff, gives him a better blanket instead of the probable sensory nightmare that arctis just leaves to niko and his engine room cot.

technically the reason they start talking at all is sunny kind of marks niko in his head as The One He Wants (carnally) on this specific mission because he'd die of boredom otherwise 💀 but it becomes a lot more than just that for either of them without sunny realising so i'm not counting that

25. who said i love you first? how did it go?

niko says i love you first! like a month into their like. more official thing where they are like more 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 rather than just dancing around each other after years of slowburn it's not planned. hes kind of just holding sunny from behind like in the airt... kiss on back of head... i love you. it just kind of slips out- oh he absolutely means it but sometimes when the truth is just that undeniable there's not really a way for it to just say unsaid. i think sunny after hearing it just like. pauses. turns to look at him. actually lost for words (which. rare occurance bcos this mf does not shut up 😭) starts tearing up a lil bit maybe? its the truth for him too he just never really expected he'd be i guess worthy enough to hear it reciprocated. but he knows. holy shit i love you too... anyways they probs kiss for a bit after this LMAO

38. what do they love most about each other?

not answered previously here

39. who worries and who calms?

tbh in this world i feel like it's reasonable to say they do a fair amount of both over their own things... theres never a person who freaks out over things "more" bcos theyve both been thru their own personal hells and are in some ways still going thru it so they're kind of just like. there for each other in equal measure i believe

40. do they have any jealous tendencies over each other?

for niko? "any" jealous tendencies lets try "all" instead... not in the sense that hes controlling or anything because he isn't but hes pretty verbal about it when he's feeling that way. little twinges and moments of Ugh he's more protective than outright jealous we think- he's not like a freak 😭 he's not stopping sunny from hanging out with friends and other people they live in whats basically a giant flying dorm its always full of people. it stems a lot from him just continually losing people he cares for over and over... but he is def jealous and sunny loves it tbh

sunny (i'm going by crew sunny because imposter sunny is kind of undeveloped) is sort of. not as jealous as niko but still . yeah i think idk 😭 gets worser if provoked honestly and he gets irritated when other people take up all of niko's time... miloš and ashe i like you guys so much. leave engines now before that changes 😊 the more comfortable with monopolising niko's attention he gets the more like confident he is with it. if that makes sense

#hi eli. clawing my eyes out howling on my knees ripping my hair out by the roots-#ask #reply #astralsi #i cannae sleep and nines is awake so 😈 back to these

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skeleton-in-a-hoodie · 1 year

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Random headcannons for ageswap:

(Under a readmore cause it's long)

The older April gets, the more Kraang/Utrom she becomes. When she meets the Turtles she's pretty much just got purple markings appearing on her skin. By the time Yoshi is 4 tentacles start growing from her back and neck.

She also has a frill on her head, but that tends to stay retracted unless she's using her powers a lot

She has a secondary set of jaws in her throat with Kraang-like teeth

The more April uses her powers, the faster the Kraang stuff develops.

The above applies to Shadow too. When the Foot Clan get involved with the plot, Shadow is 9 and still mostly looks human.

Shadow's powers also didn't manifest until she was about 6.

June doesn't have powers. At most she's more durable than your average human.

She'll still fuck you up though. June is Donnie's apprentice and hide an armoury in her bag pack. She essentially has a battle shell.

Mayday can shapeshift similar to Mom-thing. She was made by the Kraang when they realised June didn't have the DNA sequence they needed, so they tried engineering it. Technically she's also a Kraang-human mutant, but there's also some other stuff shoved in there too.

Her mutation isn't fully stable. Donnie made a mutagen based medicine that stabilises her. It's not something that can be cured, she's just got to learn how to manage it.

Yoshi has a scar on the left side of his face, going from the tip of his snout up to his left ear. He got into a fight with Hun when he was 6 and it didn't particuarly go well for either of them. Arguably Hun came out worse though.

He's legally blind without glasses. Donnie ended up having to make him glasses. No one's sure if it's due to his mutation, or something he inherited from his other parent.

Speaking of which, no one knows who his other parent is. As far as the turtles know, Karai wasn't dating anyone. At some point in a fight with Saki:

Saki: You rat bastard!

Yoshi: Yeah? And?

Yoshi can collapse his skeleton! This is useful for breaking into places. It's also hell on his joints.

The Turtles all have poor hearing due to their mutations. They're oddly loud people when not on missions. Casey is also hard of hearing, but that's largely due to standing next to one too many explosions.

That + Yoshi's eyesight and sensitive hearing is an interesting combination.

Leo's eyesight is also poor at best. They learn braille.

June is mute - everyone knows ASL and JSL. She also learns other sign language too.

Her and Mayday learned morse code together. They then taught Shadow and Yoshi.

None of these kids know what they want to do with their lives. For one they're all 14-16 and Shadow is 9. Also none of them, except Shen, know what it's like to grow up in peace times. It's really hard to plan your future when you know the world could end next week.

Back in Japan, Shen was part of the theatre group at school. She made costumes and helped build the sets. The mask she wears when she sneaks out at night was one she made and was told she could keep.

Shen and Saki dated when they were about 12. She broke up with him at least four months before she moved to NYC.

Got some more, but I'm gonna stop here. Like this is long enough as is

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt au #tmnt ageswap au

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milkplusvn · 1 year

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Three Lilies — Delay, Progress, Talking About Direction

Tip: You can get these same posts sent right to your e-mail by subscribing to the newsletter.

:pensive: :face_holding_back_tears: Three Lilies is now being pushed to December. I’ve been having little bouts of illness that have been hindering my progress as well as sleep issues. Don’t worry about it, it’ll be okay. It’s not COVID, at least!

As it stands, because of those bouts of illness, I’ve only gotten halfway through scene one of Suburb. I do want to make Three Lilies a fun experience throughout the whole visual novel, so I don’t want Countryside to be great in terms of direction and then have the other two stories fall flat.

So, let’s look at the breakdown now!

Countryside

Writing — 100% written and edited

Artwork — 100% complete

Programming — 90% complete, needs an accessibility pass

Suburb

Writing — 100% written and edited

Artwork — 98% complete, need to add an expression to a CG

Programming — 5% complete, scene 1 of 7. All stories have 7 scenes each and are at least 10k words.

City

Writing — 100% written and edited

Artwork — 100%(?) complete. Another background is being floated, but this might have to be included in an update.

Programming — 0% complete (on standby)

Game Overall (AKA the things that (mostly) aren’t the script itself like the game screens)

Programming — 92% complete, gallery’s almost done! Still need to create one more screen for liner notes, need to finalize first time setup screen. I’m probably going to finish these things today—I’ve been doing lots of setup for them when I’m too sick to be particularly creative.

UI — 98% complete, need to finish City chapter select button.

Accessibility — All of the groundwork is implemented like functions, dictionaries etc. Chapter staging must be completed before I do a second sweep where I add image descriptions, screenshake and photosensitivity safety, etc.

Fun Direction Rambling Stuff

I thought I’d make this entry a little fun (for people who like to hear about technical stuff) to make up for the disappointment of the delay.

Three Lilies is a vast step up in quality compared to Soundless, which was intentionally designed to fake technical limitations. Now that I’m living in the present, I’m going all out with how it looks!

My main source of inspiration has been the recent TYPE-MOON visual novels, Mahoutsukai no Yoru and Tsukihime Remake. By taking advantage of things like crop, motion, and zooms, I’m trying to create a somewhat dynamic, filmic experience. Of course, it’s nowhere near the level of Mahoyo and TsukiRe since I’m just one person, but I think I’m doing pretty well especially when it comes to engine limitations.

These are all effects that I’m accomplishing just using code known as Ren’Py’s ATL language. I’m not making entirely new assets just to do what I want to do. The above screenshot was accomplished like this:

(The code can't be copied and pasted to Tumblr—view it on Substack!)

You’ll also notice that I’ve been posting GIFs of little emote marks next to character heads. This is accomplished using a neat little system I’ve made where I pre-animate the mark, then supply arguments to its transform to make it go wherever I’d like on the screen at whatever size I want.

Here’s the code for the floating heart mark beside Najwa’s face at the top of this entry:

(The code can't be copied and pasted to Tumblr—view it on Substack!)

And here’s how I show it in-game:

(The code can't be copied and pasted to Tumblr—view it on Substack!)

The first two numbers in the parentheses let me position it. The third argument, myzoom, doesn’t always have to be supplied because I gave it a default value, but here I chose to make the heart smaller.

Feel free to use this code in your own game. It’s very useful…If you didn’t know you could supply arguments to transforms in Ren’Py, well, now you know!

(I was going to show a biiig GIF of some animation I did, but Substack said the image was too large and it’s too big for a trustworthy GIF compressor, too…)

By the way...

I’ve been working on some promotional art. The pieces will be revealed closer to release.

#three lilies vn #three lilies and their ghost stories #vn development #vndev #horror vn

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placesyoucallhome · 2 years

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8, 11, 13 for any of your boys, possibly with, at, or about one another for those that know them/have interacted?

Ahh yes, the unlikely bffs, Ruhka and Canum

8. Does your muse like to dance? Would they dance with another?

A lip-biting grimace as an attempt to hide a grin, Ruhka shook his head, "Cani? Hhhhells no, he has the rhythm and grace of a newborn dhamel that just hit the ground, at least when it comes to anything but fighting. He can do that, perhaps if'n he thought to put the same amount of care in? Don't think he'd enjoy it though. Most I can see is tappin' his foot along to a beat." Not a flattering answer, the captain would admit, but there was a charm in awkwardness too, "Someone would have to drag him onto the dancefloor, but, if they can do that, yeh can be assured he's soft for them."

11. What pet names would your muse give to others?

Canum grimaces, heaving a beleaguered sigh as he leaned back in his desk chair. "I did not realize, at the time I started referring to him as 'Cat', that, one: he was not like the conscript miqo'te I had met and was quite comfortable with his more coeurl-esque tendencies, and two: he regarded nicknames as terms of affection." The Garlean shrugged, still seemingly baffled by his own miscalculations, "So what I had intended as an insult at the time, he viewed as an act of friendship. It took me... quite a bit longer than I would really care to admit to realize, or be able to say the same. He's more particular than one would think about names, they mean a great deal to him, and one can mark his affections based on what he calls one by."

There is a pause, a breath caught as the hyur stopped to consider his words with care before continuing quietly, "He calls me Will-o-wisp."

13. Are there any physical items that make your muse happy?

"Well," Ruhka hums, a sad tilt of his head as he considered, "He didn't have a thing when I met him, besides what was in his pockets, and his father. He had no choice to leave everything behind when he fled Garlemald, his whole life, all of his work, every achievement he'd worked for. He was hurtin' it was plain to see, I could give him a room, and furniture, a place to work, but it wasn't going to feel like 'his' for a while, I know damn well how that goes."

Standing in the workshop, he motioned to a corner covered in magitek, pieces and parts everywhere, technical diagrams pinned to the walls, and a rack of arms and legs in various states of disrepair hung on display. "He told me about what he'd done back there, havin' to work in car manufacturing to get himself through schools, designing subway cars to get his foot in the door, being allowed to work in airship engineering despite not being pureblood-- all of it left behind, all of it destroyed now, I gave him time to work on his own projects. It took, mm, perhaps a year, before he was a few iterations in for the prosthetics his father needed, before I realized he kept them all. Magitek can be scarce here still sometimes, all of the little parts needed, most break down old works to repurpose. But to him, seein' his own progress means more. For him it ain't reminders of what he's done wrong, it's proof of how far he's come, and how far he can still yet go."

#Q'ruhka #Canum Wicks #answer #QoQ TY!!#Oh I love being able to write character interactions and relationships thank you so so so much this was a treat #I love friendships i love seeing characters learn about others i love seeing characters through other characters #these two are always simultaneously always at each others throat #and also ready to fist fight anyone that even breathes in the direction of hurting the other

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volcanovd · 1 year

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The Impact of Featured Snippets on SEO: How to Optimise for Them

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#SEOCentralCoast

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