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roosterforme · 2 months

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The Younger Kind Part 53 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is surprised by what Maverick has to tell him, and he's not sure how to convey his mixed feelings to you. The urge to keep everything inside is strong, but you catch on right away and shut it down. In the end, he's not sure he has made the right decision.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, pregnancy topics, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

There was something a bit ominous about the way Maverick said, "Rooster. We need to talk."

Bradley followed him toward the tower immediately, getting more annoyed by the second. This was supposed to be an exciting day. You and Bradley had started telling people you were engaged. It was a shame that Casey was among the first to find out, but Bradley had expected Maverick of all people to remember his plans for the weekend.

But Bradley didn't say a word until they were inside the tower in private. "She said yes, by the way," he told his godfather blandly. "I proposed after the air show."

Maverick grinned and pulled him in for a tight hug that Bradley barely returned. "That's wonderful. I was just about to ask, but I knew she would say yes." He slapped him on the back before releasing him. "So it's safe to tell Penny now?"

Bradley rolled his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. It's safe. She can't ruin anything at this point."

Then Maverick's smile started to fade, and Bradley remembered exactly why he had followed him here to begin with. "We really do need to talk, Bradley, and I'm not sure you're going to want to hear this right now."

Bradley braced his hand on the wall next to him and asked, "Are you deploying me?"

"Not exactly," he replied as if he was trying to choose his words very carefully.

But Bradley was so used to being spoiled right now, he didn't have the patience for this. He had you and Noah and now a baby and a wedding, too. "Just spit it out, Mav. Please."

He glanced around and cleared his throat, and Bradley's nerves just got worse when he finally spoke. "Your name came up behind closed doors. The admirals have you listed as a top selection for a training mission."

"What kind of training?" Bradley asked, wishing he would just get on with it.

Maverick's voice dropped lower as he said, "Sixth-generation fighters. Nothing that's available in the U.S. You'd be one of the first to fly them for tactical testing."

"You're joking," Bradley rasped, his body frozen as Maverick shook his head.

"It's no joke. It's also optional. Not your traditional deployment. Nobody is going to force you to go this time. I can't supply you with many more details unless you give your verbal and written agreement to participate, but I can say that this would go a long way toward career advancement."

"Shit."

You were pregnant. This was not the best time to leave for optional training. But six-generation technology was something he might never get to experience during his career unless he partook in this. It would be years, maybe even a decade, before Naval aviators were flying these jets off of carriers for real missions. He knew exactly what this meant. He could be among the very first to take them up in the air, and his flight details could help shape the way these jets were eventually distributed to the United States and used by the military. "Jesus, Mav."

He nodded in response. "I know the timing isn't ideal for you and your family, but it's something you should seriously consider. Go home and talk to your fiancée about it, and if you decide you want to be included in the meeting on Thursday, let me know."

"Right," Bradley muttered. "Am I dismissed?"

"Yeah. Head home. I'll see you tomorrow."

Bradley should have gone directly home and waited for you and Noah to arrive, but instead he took his time in the locker room. He tried to imagine what it would be like to leave you for a few weeks or months while you were pregnant, but it made him feel too uncomfortable. He could turn the opportunity down without even mentioning it to you. That actually sounded like a pretty good plan.

While he showered and got changed, he felt guilty in a different way. He didn't want to hide this from you even though all he wanted to do was protect you. And part of him really wanted to fly these prototype jets. If he did, he could leave a lasting impression on the future of Naval aviation even after he was done spending time in the cockpit.

"Fuck," he muttered as he packed all of his things up for the day and headed outside to his Bronco. It was actually pretty late now, and there was no doubt you were at home with Noah, probably making dinner. But Bradley took a detour to the coffee shop first, and then he stood there like an idiot for a few seconds, because he wasn't sure if you were still supposed to have caffeine or not.

He ended up ordering the decaf version of your favorite drink. Then he asked the barista to borrow a sharpie, and he wrote something new on the cup this time. He stuffed a few dollars into the tip jar and headed home, still completely undecided about what he wanted to do.

---------------------------

Noah was his usual adorable self, and you wanted to be having a good day, but you were exhausted from work and Casey. Dinner was in the oven, and you were taking the time to carefully cut apples into peanut butter snails for Noah to have as his dessert, but Bradley wasn't even home yet.

You were looking forward to getting changed out of your wrinkled scrubs and taking a long shower, which would be much easier to do if he were here. Everything was easier with him around. You started planning a trip to Disneyland on your phone while dinner cooked, but you wanted to run it past him before you booked anything. You smiled softly, knowing Bradley would tell you to put it on your princess card before thanking you for planning the next family vacation. But you had your first doctor's appointment coming up and thought it was better to go to Disneyland after that. But October was looking promising.

When you heard the front door open, and Skittles scampered into the living room, you felt your body sag against the counter in relief. "Daddy's home," you told Noah, and he pushed his new dinosaur coloring book aside and followed after Skittles. You brought up the rear, but that just meant that you'd get the longest hug from Bradley when it was your turn.

"Come here, Mrs. Bradshaw," he rasped after he set Noah and Skittles down, and you were tucked in his embrace with your nose buried against him immediately. It was obvious that he was tired and hungry, but he didn't rush anything. He just held you like his life depended on it. Soft kisses teased along your forehead and temple as he whispered, "I brought you some coffee."

Then you noticed the cup he had set down on the TV stand, and you rubbed your cheek against his chest as you read it. "That's adorable, Daddy." He had scrawled Princess +1 on the cup this time, and it made your face feel warm. "But I think I need to cut back on my caffeine consumption."

"It's decaf, Princess" he whispered, his lips and mustache brushing the shell of your ear.

The soft moan that left your lips had him chuckling as you said, "The baby and I thank you." Then you ditched his arms in favor of the coffee cup. When the kitchen timer went off, you kept your eyes on Bradley as you walked backwards away from him. "After Noah goes to bed, I want to talk about something important. It rhymes with Tisneyland. I thought we could go next month. After I talk to my doctor, of course."

He winced for a split second, but it would have been impossible to miss. Okay. You thought he made it clear he wanted to go on another family trip. Maybe he changed his mind. "Shit," he whispered, swallowing hard. "We can... we can go. No problem. Whenever you want."

The timer was still buzzing, otherwise you would have pressed the issue. Without another word you turned toward the kitchen and grabbed the oven mitts so you could get dinner on the table. But Bradley was acting strange. He even seemed more subdued with Noah which had you worried.

"What happened at work?" you asked, sliding a plate of dinner in front of him.

He shrugged. "Just a regular day. But I did tell Nat we're engaged." At least he smiled when he said that, and then he reached for you, looking up at you as you stood next to him. "Hey, I can't wait to go to Tisneyland with you."

You couldn't help but laugh, but you said, "We don't have to go in October. We can go next year or never. I just thought it was something you wanted to do."

"Book it," he said, squeezing your hip before dropping his hand. "I'll request a day off as soon as you book it after your appointment. We can take a long weekend."

Something was wrong, and you couldn't place it. But his eyes were clouded with doubt and your stomach soured so much, you could barely eat your own dinner. This didn't feel like the sweet man who agreed to go to daycare drop off with you this morning simply because you didn't want to go alone. When you offered to get Noah ready for bed, he agreed without really paying any attention to your words.

"Come here, Sweet Noah," you whispered after Bradley kissed him goodnight, clearly distracted. You got him into his pajamas and got his teeth brushed, and like usual, he was yawning before his head even hit the pillow. You started to read him the book about farm animals that you picked out a few months ago with Bradley, and even though he was sound asleep by page two, you finished reading it just to have a few extra minutes with him.

Eventually you found Bradley sitting on the couch with Skittles on his lap. When you leaned against the doorway, he held his hand out to coax you forward. "You didn't tell me about your day," he said softly.

"I tried to during dinner, but it's like you weren't even there," you bit back, not moving an inch. "What's wrong? You change your mind about getting married?" you asked, holding up your left hand and spinning the ring loose with your fingers. "Or about the baby?"

Now he was up off the couch in an instant, Skittles looking rather alarmed by his sudden movement. "Hey," Bradley snarled, pulling you against him with his left hand and using his right fingers to push your ring back into place. "Don't say that. It's never going to happen."

"Then what's wrong?" you asked, giving him no room to continue to be vague and weird with you. "Just tell me."

"You gonna keep that ring on?" he asked, and you saw a flash of everything you loved so much about him in his eyes.

You pressed up onto your toes and kissed him. "Yes," you whispered before kissing him again and again. "I'll keep it on. Just tell me what's wrong."

He pulled you toward the couch, and after he sat, you straddled his lap while Skittles curled up on the cushion next to you. "Nothing's wrong," he whispered, his big hands sliding down your hips to your thighs, stroking you through the thin fabric of your pants. He was staring at your name where it was embroidered on your scrub shirt instead of meeting your eyes. "Earlier today, Maverick told me about something... interesting."

"Go on," you whispered, raking your fingers through his soft hair. "I already know something's bothering you, so just say it, Daddy."

He nodded slightly and kissed your forearm before he finally met your gaze. "It sounds like there's a brand new fleet of aircrafts with technology updates that have never been flown by American pilots before. I'm on a short list of aviators who have been invited to train on these jets overseas, most likely in the hopes that the Navy will adopt these planes in the future."

You nibbled on your lip and considered his words. "So, it's kind of like a deployment?" you asked, still dragging your fingers through his hair as you scooted a little closer.

"Sort of," he said softly. "But it's optional. And I'm going to tell Mav I don't want to go. I'll be here, okay? We can go to Disneyland next month."

You studied his handsome face, and while he looked more relaxed now that he told you what Maverick said, you knew that wasn't the end of it. You pieced it together in your mind and leaned the rest of the way to his lips. He accepted your kiss as he rubbed his hands slowly along your thighs. You hummed and let your forehead rest against his.

Your voice was calm as you asked, "But you do want to go, don't you?"

He remained quiet, but he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you so your body was flush against his and your cheek was resting on his shoulder. You relaxed against the steady rise and fall of his chest and the soothing beating of his heart.

When he finally spoke, his voice was gravelly and deep, and it made you shiver. "The last thing I want is to be away from you and Noah and the baby. I don't want you under the impression that those thoughts are on my mind, okay? That's not what this is."

"I believe you, Bradley," you whispered against his neck. "But this sounds like a big deal. You made the list? Over so many other people? They chose you to try something brand new?"

His voice was a little more forceful as he said, "I do not want to leave you alone right now. It wouldn't be fair."

You kissed your way up his neck until your lips found his earlobe, and you kissed him there, too. You inhaled the smell of his shampoo as you said, "I love you, and I want to support you as much as you support me. If you want to do this, then I think you should."

There was no denying that you felt safer and more loved when you were with Bradley than you ever had before. But this was his career, and it sounded like he had a chance to be part of something huge.

"You're right, Baby. I do want to go."

You nodded as he held you. "Do you have any other details?"

"No. There's a meeting on Thursday that I can sit in on if I let Mav know I'm interested, but I doubt I'll get a ton of information short of a departure date and maybe a location unless I sign on for this thing."

You kissed his cheek and pulled away so you could look at his face. "Next time, just tell me what's on your mind instead of trying to make an important decision without me."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, reaching for your left hand and kissing your palm and the spot where the band of your engagement ring wrapped around your finger. "But next time, don't even pretend like you're taking this thing off."

"I won't."

--------------------------

Somehow Bradley made it all the way to the meeting on Thursday, his curiosity piqued. When he found out where the meeting was being held, he was even more surprised.

"Come to Admiral Simpson's office promptly at one o'clock," Maverick told him, and Bradley silently thanked you for clearing things up with Cyclone the way you had. There was no way his name would have made it onto any list if you didn't send the man a glass of bourbon at Warlock's retirement party.

"I'll be there," he promised. And if he was surprised by the location, he was even more surprised when he showed up to find Cyclone and Maverick waiting for him and him alone.

"Sir?" Bradley asked, standing until he was given permission to sit. He knew better than to ask a single question about the training before he had some information to work with, but his brain was swirling nonstop. You and he stayed up last night making a list of things he needed to know before making a decision. For example, Bradley desperately wanted to fly these sixth-gen fighters, but he wasn't willing to be gone for months on end. Hell, you still hadn't seen your doctor yet. That appointment wasn't happening until Monday.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw," Cyclone said, pushing a folder toward Bradley as he sat down behind his desk. "We chose you for this training protocol. Only you. If you are unwilling, then we will regroup and try to select someone else. However, time is tight and details are going to be scarce unless you agree to participate. Do you understand?"

"I understand, Sir," he replied, and then Cyclone tapped his fingers on the folder before releasing it to Bradley.

Maverick was standing near the window, and Bradley got the feeling that his godfather was proud of him. He still wasn't sure why he was the only one here, but as he opened the folder and skimmed the pages, many of his immediate questions were answered.

As soon as he saw it, he shook his head. "You want me to fly to Japan on Monday morning? Because if that's a hard set date, then my immediate answer is no."

He closed the folder and started to hand it back to Cyclone who was sharing a look with Maverick. "And if we could push it to Tuesday?" he asked without taking the folder.

"I'm listening," Bradley replied, honestly wondering what he had that the other pilots didn't.

Maverick stepped away from the window. "Bradl- Lieutenant Bradshaw," he corrected right away. Bradley realized it was hard for both of them to separate their professional relationship from the personal one they shared, especially when they did things like take family vacations together. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. You were chosen for your skill set and the way you prioritize communication. We don't want to have to select someone else, especially when we believe you'd be the best pilot available."

Cyclone cleared his throat and added, "Consider Tuesday morning your new departure time. Do you have an answer?"

Bradley blinked at him a few times, glanced down at the information in the folder, and then looked up again. "You need me to give you an answer right now? Sir?"

He nodded once and folded his hands. "Before you leave my office."

---------------------------

You were too tired to do anything after work except pick Noah up from preschool. Seriously, if Casey even tried to talk to you, it was going to be her funeral. But for once, luck was on your side, because she wasn't even there. You signed Noah out without incident and headed home to talk about this special training mission.

Bradley must have learned his lesson from earlier this week. You couldn't believe he was about to make a decision without you like that, just to try to save you the stress. You could handle it. After your appointment on Monday, you could handle anything that came your way.

When he got home shortly after you did, he told you immediately that he needed to talk to you. He kissed Noah on the top of his head and pulled you to the kitchen doorway, a frantic look on his face as he stroked your cheek with his fingers. "I'm going."

Your heart plummeted. He really did decide without talking to you about the details. You wanted him to go, but you also wanted to talk about the pros and cons with him first. But in the end, you really had no say here at all. "You are? I thought we were going to talk it through."

"We were," he whispered. "That was my intention, Princess. But they made me decide before I could leave Cyclone's office."

You made a concerned face. "Cyclone's office? How did everyone fit in there?"

Bradley shook his head, his cheeks a little ruddy from frustration or embarrassment, you weren't sure which. "They didn't, Princess. It was just me. I was the whole list of people."

"Oh," you gasped. It was hard for you to understand at times that he was at the top of his career, because he was just as devoted to his life at home. With you and Noah. "Where are you going? And when do you leave?"

"Japan," he rasped, his face full of guilt now. "And I leave on Tuesday morning."

The pounding of your heart was making you feel nauseous. "Tuesday?"

He nodded. "They originally wanted me to leave on Monday, and if that was the case, I was ready to turn it down, no further questions asked."

"You were?"

His eyes went wide. "I'm not missing the first appointment for something optional."

You nodded slowly, because that brought up your next question. You sensed he might be missing subsequent appointments. "When will you be back?"

He wrapped his hands around your hips and pulled you closer to him. "I have no idea."

Then you started to cry, and you felt like such an idiot. You wanted him to go. You wanted him to have this experience and impact new pilots in the future, but you also thought you'd have a little more time before he left. "Just come back safely," you whispered while he let you cry in his arms.

--------------------------

Bradley noticed right away that you were a little distant. Maybe you needed a day or two to process everything, but in another day or two, he'd be packing and leaving. He thought he was doing what you wanted him to, but you cried yourself to sleep on Thursday. You were obviously exhausted and frankly kind of moody, and now he was kicking himself for agreeing to a training mission that had no disclosed ending date.

"Fuck," he grunted on Saturday afternoon when he took Noah to the park so you could have some time to yourself. Pretty soon, you'd be on single, pregnant parent duty around the clock for probably weeks on end. Bradley's guilt was really prevalent now.

"Daddy?" Noah asked as he was being pushed on the swing.

"Yeah, Bub?"

"Can I have a Halloween costume?"

"Of course," Bradley groaned, cradling his forehead in his hand. Halloween was still six weeks away, but he could already imagine the tears in his son's eyes if he wasn't home in time for trick-or-treating. Hell, he hadn't even explained to Noah that he was going away again yet. "You can pick something out with Mommy," he added, his voice harsh now.

Noah looked back at him over his shoulder and started to slow himself down. When he jumped out of the swing, he ran to Bradley who scooped him up. "Can we go home?" he asked. He wrapped his arms around Bradley's neck like he could tell he needed a hug. "I miss Mommy and Skittles."

Bradley kissed his son's cheek. "You know what? I miss them, too. Let's go home." He buckled Noah in and drove slowly. He should probably start packing tonight, but he was just dying to spend some time alone with you. The last thing he wanted was to return to a quiet house and a quiet fiancée right now. You and he were going to need to have another conversation about this, and he already felt like a jerk for wanting to have everything.

When he pulled into the driveway as the sun was starting to set, you were in the front yard with Skittles on her leash. You were wearing one of your little floral dresses, and Bradley almost ran into your car as he looked at you. God, he was stupid for voluntarily agreeing to leave you. Once he was parked, you opened the back door and started unbuckling Noah and lifting him out like the most devoted mom in the world, and Bradley was about to lose his mind if he couldn't sort this out tonight.

"Hey, Daddy," you said softly as you turned, holding a very sleepy looking Noah against your shoulder. "Should we feed him dinner and get him in bed?"

"I think so," Bradley replied, eyeing you up and down, his gaze catching on your glossy lips. "You look gorgeous. Why are you all dressed up?"

You shrugged like it was nothing. "I just wanted to look cute for you."

His eyebrows shot up in response. "Don't you always?"

A soft smile found your lips as you started to head for the front door with Noah. Bradley followed you inside, and once Noah was eating leftovers, he pulled you into the hallway where he pushed you back against the wall.

"Does this mean we can talk about some things tonight?" he asked, stroking your bottom lip before kissing you softly.

You moaned gently into his mouth as his weight pressed against you. "Yes," you whispered. "Of course. We can talk about anything you want."

"You told me you wanted me to fly this mission," he said, and you nodded before you kissed the tip of his nose.

"I know. And I do. I just needed to process everything. The timeline just threw me off a little bit. And if I'm being honest, it's never not going to be scary when you leave."

"I'm coming back," he promised, knowing full well he only had so much control over that. "I'm coming back to my family as soon as I can."

This time when you nodded, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips. "I know, Daddy," you whimpered between filthy kisses, rubbing yourself against him. He rutted you back into the wall, and you moaned his name as he cupped your ass. And that's when he felt it, firm against his fingertips compared to the softness of your body.

"Fuck," he grunted, easing your dress up inch by inch until he was touching the silicone.

"Do you want me to put my crown on to match?" you asked sweetly as he spread you open wider with his hands. "I can be your going away present."

Bradley leaned closer until his lips were pressed to your ear. "I want you in bed with your crown on as soon as Noah's asleep. Then I'm going to fuck the absolutely shit out of you. And then after that, I'm going to make love to you until you're satisfied. And then we're going to talk about everything that's going to happen while I'm in Japan until we're both comfortable with all of it. And then we're going to start planning our wedding."

"Yes," you agreed. "That's exactly how I want to spend our evening."

----------------------------

Just a few more chapters left. Do you think he made a good decision? Leaving Princess right now? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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help-itrappedmyself · 2 months

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Summoning Game Show Part 4

Masterpost

Look. I don't know how to write a sword fight and if I tried this part wouldn't be coming out for a month. So here's this and if I ever do write the sword fight I'll shove it in as part 4.5 or something.

~~~~~

Turns out that Fright Knight bleeds green. Weird. It had taken a moment, both of the fighters taking the time to get to know their opponent before truly engaging in the fight. But after the fight had well and truly started, it hadn’t lasted long. Damian had quickly taken advantage of his speed and the fact that Fright Knight was clearly not used to being limited by gravity.

“So the puzzle currently stands with four letters showing.” Danny gestured as the screen reappeared.

“For winning against Fright Knight, what letter would you like to guess?” Danny asks Damian, who has returned his borrowed sword and is now standing back on the stage.

“I choose the letter O.” Damian’s quick with his answer.

“An amazing choice, Robin. There is an O!”Danny waves his hand and the screen changes.

“The next game is a race! You can pick how you want to race from: bike race, flying race... Can any of you fly?” Danny’s face scrunches slightly as they all answer no. “Apologies, your options are bike race or swim race!”

“Nobody is swimming in radioactive substances!” Nightwing interjects.

“Bike race it is!” Danny agrees cheerfully. “Who will our biker be?”

Tim and Jason turn to look at each other. “Look, if it’s between the two of us to do the brain puzzle at the end, I think we all want that to be you.” Jason states. “Let me take this one.”

Tim nods and Jason stands up. “I’ll do it.”

“Wonderful! You’ll be racing Johnny.” Danny says. “Skulker will be playing defense.”

They are approached by a blond man wearing driving gloves.

“Wait, defense on a race?” Jason asks.

“Yeah, his goal will be to try and let no one win!” Danny is getting very excited. “He makes his own weapons, so I asked him to make some traps and things for this, he was excited to be able to participate.”

Danny jumps off the podium, but floats gently down until he’s next to Johnny, but now his forn doesn’t have any feet, just a wispy tail. Then waves for Jason to join them. As Jason is walking over someone with flames for hair wearing a lot of metal floated past through a door that said 3. Danny noticed Jason’s eye tracking him.

“That was Skulker. He’s going to set up the racetrack. Now we need to go to the garage so you can pick out your bike!” Danny starts walking over to yet another door. “Johnny will be on his usual bike, but you can pick whichever you want out of these.” Danny opened the door and flung it open for Jason, who stood still in the doorway.

“These are all motorcycles.” Jason muttered.

“Well, yeah.”

“Is that a problem?” Johnny asks.

“No.” Jason shakes his head. “I had thought bicycles when I heard bike race, but this works out great.”

Jason goes and looks around at all the bikes, they had a large selection.

“Johnny, remember to keep Shadow in line. I know he’ll want to ride with you because it’ll be fun and everything, but he is not to interfere with the race.”

Johnny nods. “You got it. I’ll make he sure he doesn’t do anything.”

“Good! When Jason is done grabbing his bike, get yours too and I’ll meet you outside room 3!”

Johnny starts walking over to help Jason pick out a bike and Danny heads back into the main room. He floats up to the stands to talk to a few people, then floats back down to the podium and lands on it with two feet again.

“We’ll be watching from here.” Danny tells the boys, who had huddled together sometime while he was gone.

Skulker comes back out of room 3 and heads over to Danny. “Got everything set up.”

“Nothing lethal? You remember that one of them is mostly human, not ghost. He will actually be hurt if you go too far.”

“Mostly?” Tim mouths at Dick. Dick shrugs.

“Got it covered. Non-lethal weaponry, and set up some road hazards.”

Danny nods and Skulker heads back through door number 3, as Johnny and Jason leave the garage, both pushing bikes next to them.

Danny heads over to lead them to the track and get them set up at the starting line.

The room is large, with what looks like three separate zones and the track looks like it’s made of glass, reflecting as green as almost everything else in the Infinite Realms. The first zone looks like a mountain, with the track starting on ground level and going up in winding circular trails up and around the mountain before heading back down. Then there’s a quick jump in it, a ramp leading to a gap in the track, which separates the zones. Zone Two looks like a series of mounds, or small hills like a dirt racing track, some grassy, some muddy, some sandy, all sure to make driving difficult. Another jump leads into Zone Three which looks like a cityscape. There are many different paths you can take through it but you have to go around buildings and what looks like fake traffic.

Johnny and Hood get the bikes set up at the starting line while Danny starts explaining.

“You have to go through all three zones, but the actual paths you take are pretty optional so long as you go through all of them in order. The first zone really only has one path, but the second one has some splits and the third is almost a maze, so you wont get penalized or anything for going down different streets or anything. Main points are you make it up and down the mountain, through the hills, and across the city. If you crash or skid, or Skulker gets you, you are free to keep going so long as you are uninjured.”

Danny then goes back to the podium and gets the screen up and ready to begin.

#batman #danny phantom #dpxdc #dcxdp #fanfiction #my writing #jason todd #red hood #skulker #johnny 13 #tim drake #dick grayson #damian wayne #alternate universe #dp x dc crossover

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k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9 · 1 year

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#Ultimate Mortal Kombat 3 in the Arcades.#Ultimate Mortal Kombat 3 #90's #90s #1995 #Ultimate Mortal Kombat 3 is a fighting game in the Mortal Kombat series developed and released by Midway to arcades in 1995.#fighting game #Mortal Kombat series #released #Midway #my gif #gif #my edit #select your fighter #reptile

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marbledraws · 29 days

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Yo!! I've just finished Memory Lane, a daily challenge where I drew every character I've ever made throughout March, and now I'm gonna post them here throughout April!!

Starting with my very first guy: an Iron Man ripoff I made when I was 8 years old 💕

((Original drawings from 2010 under the cut ✨))

#marble draws #hey look i remembered this account exists!!!#art #digital art #iron man #mcu #marvel #drawing challenge #original character #oc #fighting game #character select #choose your fighter

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apas-95 · 4 months

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The last post you re logged about arrestability and the Palestine Action network is something I've been thinking about a lot, and I feel really stuck on. It feels like any movement in the imperial core that wants to take actual direct action is going to find itself targeted by feds, but the ways that you can protect against that severely preclude it's ability to grow and find new recruits. Like, activism in the labor sphere can do more direct things because it doesn't have to be illegal, but I cant imagine that that will stay the case once a political labor party that's actually shutting things down. How does one make a mass movement that takes direct action but is able to prevent itself from getting shut down? I don't know, do you have any thoughts on this?

It's been done a hundred times before in the face of the same pressures, so the first order of business should be studying and learning from the experiences of successful labour movements.

Putting that aside, the key things are, in whatever words, militancy and deniability. By militancy, I mean the organisational understanding that you are in direct conflict with the bourgeois state (at a higher or lower intensity) and that your immediate priority should be making yourself immune to attack, followed only afterwards by taking offensive action. Militancy, then, means the recognition that the ultimate aim of the movement is the complete material domination and destruction of institutions that currently field armies and police networks. From the very first step, from the organisational nucleus, it needs to be understood that you are engaging in a pitched battle from within the enemies camp - which leads to the second key item, deniability.

Deniability, here, largely means compartmentalisation. Essentially every successful revolutionary movement has had a separation between the aboveground, legal struggle, and the underground, illegal struggle. To a certain degree, this is a genuinely covert or clandestine effort - undisclosed armed groups known only to a select few in the parent organisation, attributed funding through the laundering of the parent organisation. It is both essential that any armed cell is dependent entirely on the wide, integrated mass workers movement and that this cell is not actually widely known; hence, the parent organisation. If the cell were undisclosed but not integrated to a mass political organisation, it would not have revolutionary character, and be indistinguishable in practice from a common organised crime or terrorist group. It's ability to carry out correct actions would be incidental, and not self-correcting. If the cell had mass character but was not undisclosed, it would present a target to the bourgeois state and be destroyed. The strategy of asymmetric warfare is to strike at the enemy's undefended targets and to refuse to provide any defended targets for the enemy - this applies organisationally, too.

What needs to be stated, here, is that, given the connection to the mass movement, everything needs to be done only when the situation is correct. The size of a workers organisation necessary to support and supply even a single armed cell with laundered funding, safehouses, and information is extremely large, and will not be possible until a significant level of organisational base has been built and developed. Even once it is possible to support an armed cell, the political situation will very likely only warrant fairly low-intensity actions, like industrial sabotage. Again, though, the principal task of the militant - and the irregular fighter, the guerrilla in particular - is the preservation of one's own forces, over and above the destruction of the enemy. In real practice, there is no overabundance of caution, only hesitation - and the way to consistently and repeatedly carry out simple acts of industrial sabotage is by having three people work with the support of thirty-thousand. There can and must be a continuum of support, of different levels of action, between simply 'protest-organiser who pays dues to the aboveground labour organisation', to 'union salt who is a source of information on a worksite', to 'directly involved in organising and carrying out illegal acts'. The key metric for correct connection between the underground and aboveground sides of the movement is: if the actions of the underground were revealed, the mass base of the aboveground should be in support of it. The purpose of underground organising is not to go ahead of the people and start shooting cops (until the struggle has escalated to that intensity, and people are demanding that type of protection), it is to avoid providing a target for the bourgeois state.

At the higher levels of struggle, the existence of the underground becomes an open secret, which, with proper growth, coincides with the underground reaching a size and strength that it can begin to take up the mantle of the mass movement itself, and effectively transform itself into the parent organisation of the aboveground legal struggle. Until then, the model is that of a large political party leading a mass movement in every type of legal and semi-legal action under the sun (in strikes, civil unrest, and parliamentary campaigns), fiercely supporting those who do break the law (through legal and bail support, public campaigns, and protection), while the types of illegal actions the movement needs are carried out covertly.

TL;DR: Build a mass movement, or all you'll get are ecoterrorists and activists in prison.

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tinkizzig · 2 years

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Humans have always had their finger on the trigger, they are always ready to strike, and yet they relax and are calm whenever you see them. This bi-polar like response is terrifying to many in the universe and most seem to see the humans as always ruthless and bloodthirsty, which they really are.

Morgranff: I can’t believe how ruthless a fighter that human was, did you see how it bent itself in the air to avoid that strike from the Horned Goliath?

Stencillon: Yeah, I saw it, it cost me my whole night's bets.

Morgranff: You bet against a human?

Stencillon: The Goliath was twice his size, that human didn’t stand a chance if you looked at the physics of the fight.

Morgranff: Yeah, they are often overlooked when it comes to the ridiculous agility and chaos that goes with every human.

Stencillon: Well, I also never thought that a human leg was capable of slicing through the thick neck of a Horned Goliath especially when its horns interlock over the neck and act as natural armor. That fight clearly showed how vicious and deadly a human truly is.

Morgranff: Of course, I haven’t stopped betting on the humans ever since I had made that very mistake, that being said, can I buy you a drink?

Stencillon: Yes, I would love to celebrate your winnings with you.

The two start walking down the bustling corridor of the “Fight Palace”, and both freeze at the sight of the, now clean of Goliath blood, human fighter they had just watched dispatch the Goliath.

Stencillon: Why do they let humans walk around freely like this? Shouldn’t they keep such a vicious predator in a cage?

Margranff: You know I have never understood it either. Humans are far too unpredictable and I have never felt safe around them unless I am on the other side of the barrier fence at a fight.

Stencillon: Should we go around the other way?

Margranff: Yes, but what is the human doing?

Stencillon: I don’t know but it is approaching that child over there, I am going to call security.

The human crouched down next to the clearly homeless Maldovian child. The child’s blue skin ruffled as the human carefully spoke in hushed tones.

Margranff: What is he after with that kid?

The human pulls out a roll of dollar bills from his pocket and separates a few offering them to the child. The child reluctantly takes the money and stands up by taking the hand of the human that had just been offered up following the cash. They slowly walk together to a food cart and talk to the Purveyor of meat kabobs. The child selects its food and the human steps up to pay for the food.

Margranff (whispering to himself): Is he going to eat the child?

Stencillon (on a communications device): yes, the human is doing something with a homeless Maldovian child…. I don’t know his intention, he is a human!... I won’t interfere, that is why I am calling you…. Yes, I feel like I am in danger, the fight winning human is walking around doing unpredictable things.

The human and the child sit together against the wall in the corridor and chat while an amplified voice from the stadium calls out a new fight in the ring. The child is really just stuffing his face and nodding as the human goes on and on about something that is important to him but definitely not important to the child.

Stencillon: the security officer is on his way.

Margranff: Good thing too, there is definitely something up with what this human is doing, even though I can’t put my finger on it.

A security guard comes running up and slows to a stop at the sight of the human. The guard turns his head to one side contorting his face in total confusion as he tries to take in the scene. The guard stops analyzing everything and starts psyching himself up to go talk to the human. The guard sort of stretches and sort of hops around trying to get up the courage when he suddenly freezes.

Margranff: Did the security guard just scare himself or something?

Stencillon: No, look, there are two other humans that just showed up.

The two newly arrived humans walk straight over to the first one who is still talking to the child who has already finished eating the food he had. They interrupt what the first human is saying and the first human gets up on his feet and bares his teeth at the two interlopers before they stand against each other and start squeezing each other.

Stencillon: are they beginning to wrestle?

Margranff: If they are fighting, what do you bet the first one loses to the other two?

The security guard had been nervously calling for backup this whole time and is still in disbelief that this already dangerous call had tripled in danger before he had even started. The guard feeling defenseless pulls out his weapon aiming at the humans who had now switched the wrestling to the first and third human.

Stencillon: this is going to end badly, if that guard shoots one of them the other two will rip him to shreds.

Margranff: At least this situation will end with the child being rescued.

The humans start pointing to the child after unlocking their arms from the wrestling lock they were in. the three of them begin raising their voices at each other.

Human #3: COME ON….ANOTHER….CHILD….EAT!

Human #2: YOU DO THIS ALL THE TIME.

The third human walks over to the kabob cart and starts talking to the vendor.

Margranff: Are they going to eat the child?

Stencillon: That’s what I just heard, they must be checking with the food cart guy to see if he will cook the child for them.

The large burly Maldovian Head of security shows up walking casually to the security guard, lowering the nervously held weapon, tells him to stand down.

Stencillon: head of security is here, I am going to get closer and see what happens.

Margranff: I’ll come with you.

The third human turns around from the cart holding a lot of food. He walks over and hands the child one before handing one to each of the other humans. The Head of security steps over to them just as Stencillon and Margranff get close enough to observe while still remaining at a relatively safe distance.

Head of security: Steeeeve?

The first human deflates knowing he was in for a lecture and some disappointment.

Head of security: How many times have I told you, you can’t adopt the children that hangout around here.

Steve: But Orri, the kid is homeless.

Orri (head of security): No, this kid’s name is BahOni, he lives down the street from here, he lives with his brother, sisters and both his parents, he cannot be adopted. He probably heard from a friend about a prize winning fighter who buys lonely kids food and gives them money.

Steve: I know, I know, but I…

Orri: NO!

#humans are space australians #humans are space fae #humans are space orcs #humans are sweet

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