#theres probably not even any need for more of the tags

[lucabyte]

Comfortable in New Skin

[llitchilitchi]

setting off for a long journey

[rxttenfish]

Asking because I’m extremely curious about this, how did MonProm’s writing get different over time? I remember you saying that the lore and characters feel different, and that it's missing sincere character interactions, too. I know almost nothing about the lore and I’ve only seen a few people mention the characters, so I’d be interested in a rundown of what aspects you think got worse in the series

I wouldn’t mind a very long response since I’m not that active in the fandom, I need to catch up on what happened

sorry for taking so long to answer this! i kinda waffled on it for a long bit, mainly because i started doubting myself again, and whether or not this was me simply overreacting or being tinted by nostalgia or simply being extremely picky and choosy in what i like (the last of which is true, i seldom get into fandoms at all for this reason and stay away from most popular media, but i wasn't sure if it applied here). i've posted about it already, but i'm in the middle of a psychotic episode where i can't feel a lot of pleasure to begin with + most things i do experience ending up solidly in the "very bad" category, so as you can imagine, i really didn't want to mislead and check that i was actually in objective reality.

as it is, this is also when a lot more screenshots started to be posted in the monster prom tag, and that helped me bridge the gap back into returning to the games themselves and feel like i was making a more accurate judgement. if you're one of those people who have been posting screenshots, i sincerely thank you, and i appreciated seeing you in the tag greatly.

for those not in the know — i've been in the monster prom fandom since it first released, prior to even the first additional ending to be added (the "Punch the sun" ending, and i recall the minor fandom drama that happened at that time due to it). my impression of monster prom is very much influenced by this, as what got me into the first game was the fact that the characters genuinely seemed to care for each other and were friends with each other (not merely tolerating each other's presences nor dressing it up, they sincerely thought of each other as friends and were open about that fact), on top of the wide variety of small details and statements that, if taken at face value, could create compounding complexity in the lives of each and every character and had wider implications for their lives.

no, they were not necessarily explored nor even necessarily "real", with so many conflicting events and statements, but i liked this too, because it meant a wider flexibility in what you could imagine, helping to create a more tailored experience for everyone who thought about these characters. this was what i liked about the early fandom too. what was baseline "canon" was so vague and minimal that you could have wildly different interpretations of the same characters' histories and relationships with each other. you would have radically different perspectives on what the world itself looked like, what it was like, that there wasn't really any wrong answers so long as their personalities remained the same. this is where you got the old headcanon of polly and liam being childhood friends who knew each other as humans, or that the world of monster prom was post-apocalypse where humanity itself had gone extinct or only existed in tiny pockets, or my personal headcanon that both monster and human society existed right next to each other and had minimal crossover for petty cultural reasons. this was also prior zoe-as-ro, and there were wildly different interpretations of zoe's personality, with most going for a far more disquieting creepy-cute than the deep nerd we got.

this is why you get stuff like the timeloop theory, where everyone is repeating the same weeks leading up to prom over and over, and are perhaps vaguely aware of it but broadly unconcerned. this is also why it felt like the joke that, the characters were still in high school but were all fully legal adults with most in their 20's, best landed, because it was absurd and strange and didn't quite make sense, but the world itself was inherently absurd and semi-malleable to begin with. realistically, i felt like everyone understood it was making fun of the trope of having adults play teenagers in american sitcoms and wildly casting outside the age range, but for more in-universe explanations it wasn't any different from the way that you would have a large, dramatic ending in which everything changed, but then you'd restart and everyone would be right back at the beginning with nothing different, or even having conflicting events in the same run. it was a dream-logic that fit with the tropes and, thus, diagetically made sense.

to be clear, i don't mind canon having a set, well, canon on which it refers back to itself. i don't mind expanding that or including more things which are set in stone. but there was a perceivable shift in how the games handled this over time, becoming a lot more... bitter, it felt, towards all of these different branching ideas and concepts that, yeah, the people making them knew wouldn't necessarily be "canon" because "canon" already liked to contradict itself so much. most people weren't even sold on any one idea, and there was a much greater sense of enjoying and appreciating all the varying ideas people would come up with even if you personally didn't share them. making the characters be out of character was the real crime, because then it didn't diagetically make sense in the same way, didn't wholly fit.

(again, this is not to say fanon didn't happen and characters weren't smoothed down into a simplified personality that fit these varying fan-interpretations instead of the game itself. certainly damien love/lust was just as bad as it had ever been, and everyone loved to mangle his character into a more stereotypical "bad boy with a heart of hold" all the time. but it certainly felt less set-in-stone about it than it does now, with any deviation from the norm being considered strange and odd and even broadly shunned from the wider fandom.)

all of this is setup for establishing what the writing, lore, and characters felt like in the earlier days. the characters were the strongest part, with their relationships to each other being equally as important. the lore played it fast and loose and was far less interested in setting anything in concrete because that wasn't the important part. the lore wasn't the important part, which was what made it all the more intoxicating to think about, all the more fun to play with.

montrip is easily the biggest offender when it comes to setting everything in all-or-nothing terms and demanding absolutism from the world. broadly i blame the hitchhiker conversations for the worst of it, but i think ultimately the way they handled the entire premise of the game is where this problem stems from. it's not really an exploration in the same sense that you might explore the first game, discovering different perspectives and different people with different relationships to each other. it's an exploration in the sense of a sequel that over-explains the monster, that takes the most boring option out of all those that were possible and floating around and settles on something that was blatant, obvious, typically rejected not because of how novel it is but how trite and par for the course it is in the rest of the genre.

yeah, okay. humans know nothing about monsters and there's a "monster dimension" that exists separately from the human dimension. there's no crossover between the two of them. of course there's a big grand-scale fight between the eldritch powers that zoe used to be a part of, from which not only are slayers the main organization against them, but also the merkingdom has some horse in this race too. it's an urge to make things so universal in explaining them, in revealing connecting threads which unite everything that's ever happened in here, that makes the worldbuilding and lore immediately much more boring than it ever was before.

and it didn't have to be this way! nothing in the first game contradicts any of this too explicitly (see the above, the first game loves to contradict itself), and i would even be happy if this was basically canon but never stated or confirmed to be the big overarching everything going on underneath it all. i believe you should probably know these things about any world that you create and have them in the back of your mind. the difference is that you can know these things and keep them in mind, even focusing on things where its very relevant, and still not reveal them. this is why you have lore bibles, after all. every horror writer knows exactly how their monster works and the full underlying reason for everything that happens, but that doesn't mean the audience will see it or possess this same information too, and leaving it intentionally obscure will make far better stories.

which, this is bad enough, but it wouldn't be the breaking point for me if this was all there was.

but the worst thing of all has to be the slow decay of the very same characters that sold me on this world, this lore, this game in the first place. monster prom is nothing without the characters in it. it's a dating sim, it has nothing but characters to get you to play, and liking these characters are the entire reason anyone would pick up monster prom in the first place.

and the first game pulls this off extremely well. it's all in the tagline: be your worst self. they are, indeed, all terrible people. yes, even that character that you just thought of right now. they all have points in the game where they commit atrocities, where they kill or hurt people, where they do inexcusable things that could not be ignored in a more serious setting.

but that's the point. i think there's something very powerful in creating a character who not only do you love and love their personality and the way they interact with the world, but who also are inapologetically terrible, and to have the humor and the charisma be so good that you don't get bogged down in the "this is awful". likewise, it never feels the urge to really go out of its way to justify what's going on. this is not to say theres no discussion of if someone "deserved it", but usually there's still the sense that the joke is on them, that this is still an extreme reaction specifically for comedy and not necessarily something that can be justified. you can have damien set leonard on fire and have it feel earned, without prompting the needed reaction of what it's actually like to watch someone burn to death.

this is what sets the prank masterz ending apart from the rest of the game, and really establishes it as the first real "bad ending". because nothing that you do or happens in the prank masterz ending is any different from anything else that happens in any other run. you summon evil beings from other dimensions as a throwaway gag on how visiting one location raises your stats. you kill other people and damn them to terrible fates. you watch as body horror happens. the only difference is that, in the prank masterz ending, the laugh track doesn't play.

the rest of the game and the writing echoes this philosophy, this careful interplay of tropes that keeps everything tongue in cheek and yet sincere enough to make sure emotional beats still land when they're needed. the characters feel true to themselves and their own emotions, even when the world is extreme and excessive, when everything else runs on comedy logic.

this is also what i noticed failing first as time went on.

like i said, fanon has always existed and there's always been very specific ideas as to what characters are like in the same way fanon always flattens down characters into the same tropes over and over. scott is stupid and innocent and doesn't know what sex is. damien is violent and hot and too cool for anyone else. miranda is the idiot girl character. repeat over and over and over until you get sick of it.

but it's been an issue as time has crept on that canon has started to approach fanon and began to merge with it. now, scott is so innocent that he can't even curse. polly starts being mean to her friends and saying things that would be very hurtful to hear. the merkingdom isn't really super evil and fucked up, it's just miranda that's like that. they become simpler, easier to digest, streamlined for social media posts and mass-sharing. they become less and less subversions of existing tropes and moreso just another example of them, something else to add to the collection, not their own individual stories.

even further from this, what more complex traits they had are now stated and not shown. polly is stated to be smart and clever in a way that her party girl persona doesn't imply and to be sincerely rather down to earth with the people she cares about, but we seldom ever see this anymore unless its the game specifically trying to make a point about it, in which case it won't let her do anything that implies cleverness and moreso will just outline it in the narration. vera is stated to care for people in a very genuine and heartfelt way, but seldom will get a chance to do so, and every opportunity for her to do so to their faces is missed while she will just outright state it later. it does not feel consistent, it does not feel like any of these are intended reads of their actions. it feels like the devs have something they want to do but no idea on how to actually do so. and forget it if you want these traits to manifest in small ways that show up in unrelated moments and scenes.

the dialogue becomes harder and harder to tell between each speaker, if you are just looking at what's said and not at the pictures attached to it. the characters' distinct voices have been eroded away, so that they speak more and more like each other, relaying the same terms and ideas in the same words. perspective becomes a suggestion, instead of a must.

this is something that started back in monster camp too, as all of the endings in that game felt ultimately the same as every other ending. it's very hard to place or define the full reason why, why there feels like there's no emotional stakes nor investment, why everything feels moreso like selecting different coats of paint and trying to find all the different ending pictures rather than being interested in exploring the characters as characters.

stranger yet, the series that started with the tagline of "be your worst self" has experienced a kind of... softening, for lack of a better word? what i mentioned about being able to handle the balance between terrible people who do terrible things and the light tone of the game starts to change, as abruptly the same characters who were down with violent murder in the first game start to lose their nerve, acting more and more on more typical morality. it's one of those things that feels like it's starting to damage the tone, as abruptly it's not as absurd as it used to be, demands less suspension of disbelief which could buffer and support the rest of the setting on it. there's even a part in one of the endings in montrip which involves current-polly and current-scott looking back on their monprom selves and reacting in horror at how violent and careless their pranks are, in a way that fundamentally felt like it was undercutting and disparaging all the things that felt fun and made monprom what it was.

which is odd, really, because more and more i feel like the characters in these games like each other less and less. the friendships and genuine enjoyment of each others company that brought me to this game in the first place has gone. now they don't mention each other as much, don't care for each other's feelings and reactions as much, aren't as willing to support each other. they are more and more found on their own, relied on their own, seem to seek out contact and interaction with their own friends less and less. it feels like they're all separating out into their own worlds, but also feels like they wouldn't willingly want to interact with each other if they weren't already forced together by some other outside contrivance.

if anything, i'd compare it to every other dating sim out there, where you, the player, are the most important person in these characters' lives, and they only feel ambivalent or antagonistic towards every other character. which, again, is not why i picked up monster prom or why i liked it so much in the first place.

and it's because of this that it feels like the current state of the series has to focus on its increasingly weak worldbuilding and lore, trying to form a more serious foundation without character relationships being so tightly bound together, without the characters themselves being more developed and rich, without an aspect of absurd humor to rely on.

more and more i've noticed monprom has to rely on referencing other series to make itself funny and create humor, which, again, it's always done. it was just easier to ignore back then, if you didn't know what was being referenced, because there was always more going on in the exact same scene to bolster it and give context clues as to the setup and punchline at play. it feels like the current games are much more dependent on you knowing pop culture references in order to have any fun with it, and i'm someone who, again, is very picky in what i like or what i'll seek out. i'm not interested in a stream of references about other things that i would much rather be doing than playing through a game that feels like it hates that i like it at all, when i could, again, just be engaging with the thing that takes itself seriously and knows what it wants.

[carcarrot]

do i really want to make individual drinks again

[frankiebirds]

JJ: It's something we call the buddy system. That means, you always go everywhere with a friend. MORGAN: That's right, because bad men and women are more likely to talk to us only when we're by ourselves

this is likely unintentional, but i like to read into things, so.

for context, they're speaking to a room full of children in a town with a serial child murderer, and are giving them some precautions to follow to stay safe (on a lighter note: the scene is intercut with a scene of gideon doing the same to a room of adults, which i really like)

jj addresses the children as "you" while morgan addresses them as "we". i dont like the term "freudian slip" because i hate freud, but thats the shortest way to describe what i think/headcanon is happening here. im sure they had a script, and i think morgan's part was "bad men and women are more likely to talk to you only when you're by yourself" and the "us/we" came out accidentally. or i could believe that morgan wrote his part of the script and wrote "we" because he sees himself in the victims.

obviously the way morgan was victimized during his childhood was very different to what's happening here (there is no sexual assault and we later learn that the violence was done by a peer, not an adult) but it's made clear several times that morgan takes any case where children are harmed very personally. they all do, because that's just how people are, but again, morgan specifically sees himself in the child victims they encounter. he was victimized differently, yes, but he knows what its like to face violence as a child, he knows the fear they felt, and, considering in this case they profile that the children know their attacker, he knows the feeling of betrayal

[gibbearish]

am finally back home and can say without a doubt that i am just fundamentally not built for long distance travel however the train was much nicer than planes

[daily-slimecicle]

slimecicle needs to stream qsmp or something soon its dire in the fanart tag

[voidimp]

trying to find any information on anything is so fucking impossible these days

[nomairuins]

i do need 2 work on rewiring my brain so that my immediate very first thought whenever i dont do a small task (like brushing ny teeth taking a shower picking up my room etc) isnt 'We Should Kill Connor ." this would be pretty good for me to do. putting this on the list

[skid-the-mighty-poet]

[i-smoke-chapstick]

‘THE VALLEY, [hard kinks! hcs]

-GOTHAM!VILLAINS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Oswald Cobblepot, Victor Zsasz, Edward Nygma, Jerome Valeska, Jervis Tetch

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; hard and unusual kinks hcs with the gotham villain men

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!villains x female reader. PURE PORN like this is absolutely filthy and descriptive. Some of these are probably too creative and WAY out of character, but oh well. I need to practice my smut writing skills and what better way to do it then with some short scenarios of our boys ? HARD KINKS (all of them are too kinky for there own good) sadomasochistic sex warning for victor and jerome,,, and (sort of?) non-consensual hypnosis warning for jervis, somnophilia and bondage warning for ed. controlling and degrading behavior.

𝛰𝑆𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐷 𝐶𝛰𝐵𝐵𝐿𝐸𝑃𝛰𝑇

♫ “Obey, like I’m your master babe.” The Valley by Miguel

He has a habit of leaving in the mornings. He’s a gangster, a crime lord. He loves his job…you think. But it’s hard. Especially seeing him go. Which is why when the two of you fuck, he makes it worth your while.

Yes, he’s shy. He despises indecency. He doesn’t fuck, he makes love. At least, that’s what he likes to think, so you let him.

But you know better. Oswald can’t control anything about himself. The man is impulsive and spoiled. And when he wants you to feel something, you feel it. For better or for worse.

Which is why when he’s awfully pent up and sexually frustrated, you reap the benefits of the king of gotham’s cock pistoning into you. He needs to feel wanted. He needs the two of you to feel loved. He thinks the two of you are sweetly and slowly fucking in his mind. But in reality?

His thick length is hammering into you, selfishly ignoring your pleas. No, he gets drunk on them. Even if he doesn’t want to admit how obscene he’s being.

You’ll feel his sticky tip align with your pussy. He means to enter you slowly, but before you know it, he’s letting himself go. Every inch of his cock is filling you up, taking you in. His eyes are rolling back as he feels you clench around him, and he tries to push all the more unsavory thoughts out of his head.

Thoughts of you tied up. Worshipping him. Unable to resist him. Thoughts of you riding his thighs, while he gives the order to shoot someone dead. The idea of you bending to him, being a good servant. Kissing his shoes, groveling and kneeling. Degrading you.

His fingers sink into the fat of your thighs and ass, clawing at any part of you he can grasp.

His mother taught him better, he reprimands himself. But how can he stay composed and loving when you look at him like he’s the only man in the world?

Oh, he wants to make you feel good, loved, and have this be an act of intimacy. It’s what he was raised to believe sex was for. But he also wants you on your knees, choking on his length, collared like a dog.

𝑉𝐼𝐶𝑇𝛰𝑅 𝑍𝑆𝐴𝑆𝑍

♫ “I wanna fuck like we're filming in the valley.” The Valley by Miguel

Victor is always upfront with what he wants. And he’s been around the block one too many times. He’s fucked around quite a bit. He’s a ladies man, what can he say?

Which is why vanilla sex is entirely boring to him. Well, maybe not entirely. Not with you.

But theres something so special about mixing physical pain, his sole desire, with you, his other sole desire. It’s his lifes work, meeting the love of his life. What’s not to like?

Which is why he blunty suggests the idea. And boy is he glad he did.

A phone camera is pushed into your face while he records everything. The sloppy noises of your pretty pink mouth slipping and sliding around his cock.

It’s not just any homemade porno either, no. It’s a borderline snuff film.

He films himself slotting his cock into your swollen lips, one hand recording, another hand on a pistol pressed firmly against your head while you choke on his cock. The gun isn’t loaded of course, at least, you don’t think it is.

If the gun is loaded, you’re sure he’s playing a dangerous game with himself. Testing his own capabilities. He’s the best of the best, and his fingers are placed firmly on the trigger. If he loses control or focus for even a moment, you could never see the light of day again. Each time he cums is like a self-made test for himself, an ego trip. He’s excercising the greatest control not to accidentally pull the trigger and pop your top.

You’re spitting wildly, tears and saliva and cum mixing on your face. You’ve been sucking him off for what feels like hours, playing this game, and it’s still not enough. No, the man could live his whole life with your face inbetween his thighs. You have no clue what round you’re on.

“There you go…sweetness. Uh-huh…take it.” He’ll press the gun further into your temple, talking down to you slowly. It’s awfully demeaning.

He never shuts the fuck up during sex. This is no exception. His dry humor persists in every word, even as his gun comes into contact with your fucked out wet face, or a blade slices through your sweet soft thighs.

He’s doing close-up shots of every cut he makes on your skin. He marks the both of you, respectively. He keeps the videos in his pocket for later. Y’know, just in case you aren’t there, and he needs something to jack off to. He’s a manwhore, and he can admit it.

He’ll ask to show the videos to Wendell. Just so he knows Victor wasn’t lying about his girl being a total catch.

𝐸𝐷𝑊𝐴𝑅𝐷 𝑁𝑌𝐺𝑀𝐴

♫ “I wanna taste your sweat, force my fingers in your mouth.” The Valley by Miguel

Oh, Eddy. Ever the show man. Oddly enough, I think he has the dirtiest mind and the highest sex drive out of everyone on this list. In the words of CMS, "He loves donuts and getting laid." You're no exception babe.

Similarly, he isn't the kinkiest when he's at the GCPD. The poor baby is so vanilla; so eager to please. If you want a man to put your needs above his own? Look no further. Eddy is your guy. But similar to Ozzy, the man grapples with control. How can he resist when your small sleeping body looks so innocent? So willing?

You wake up to him pumping his dick deep into your hole, groping your breasts and ass, hips plowing harshly into your stretched cunt. He wants to apologize, for waking you. He feels bad of taking advantage of you. But it's your fault. The man is a little bit of a creep and has gone his whole life without pussy. What did you expect?

That being said...when he undergoes his transformation of sorts? It's like he has something to prove, to you and himself. Riddler baby is tired of hiding in the shadows, no, it's show time. If you thought the somnophilia was kinky, you've seen nothing yet.

Season 3-4 Ed is desperate to dominate you. Claim you in every way. Prove to himself that you're not going anywhere. It's a deep seated need to exert control, with a touch of dramatic flair.

Which is why, from time to time, especially on special occasions, you'll wake up from being drugged, ball-gagged in a warehouse, tied to a chair, moaning around a vibrator overstimulated against your cunny. He'll watch the whole show, pleased with his handiwork.

Might even turn it into a game. How many riddles can you answer? Maybe if you get one right, he'll let you cum. And if you don't get one right, prepare to be in for a long, long night.

Ed's pushing his thick long fingers into your tight little pussy, watching your cream spread along his fingertips. He'll force his fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself. Making you taste what he's doing to you.

He's giggling while he does so, smile wide while you gag around him. Oh, this will be fun.

𝐽𝐸𝑅𝛰𝑀𝐸 𝑉𝐴𝐿𝐸𝑆𝐾𝐴

♫ “lips, tits, clit, sit.” The Valley by Miguel

Would it be too brave to go on record to say the mans a virgin? I'm sorry, but he didn't get any pussy in that carnival.

Which is why he's incredibly sex starved. The man is feral. Hungry. He fucks you like a dog in heat half the time. You're his own personal pocket pussy, who will love him no matter what.

So when he tells you to do something, you better do it.

For instance, when he tells you to sit on his face, he means sit. No hovering. No, he wants the entirety of your weight in his mouth so he can tongue fuck you into oblivion.

He's wildly gripping at you, laughing like a mad man as he keeps you in place firmly. He's digging into your cunt with his tongue like a man whose getting his first lick of pussy. He's slapping your ass, letting you ride his face like a cowgirl.

He'll slap your sopping cunt. He'll spit in your mouth, on your face, on your pussy. He loves everything feral and sloppy. And for his own good, the man can't shut up. He loves some good dirty talk.

"Hah! There you go, doll. You want it raw? You do, don'tcha? Naughty, naughty girl." Excuse his breeding kink. "Should just pump you right up with my cum. Get you all messy. Cream-pie you riiiiiiight here," He cackles, hand hovering over you're lower stomach.

He likes seeing your face contort in pleasure and pain when your thighs scratch the staples on his face.

Oh, he's a biter. Your thighs might be bleeding by the time he's done, biting hard enough to break skin. You'll yelp in pain and it will spur him on, like you're his own personal show to watch.

God, please hit him back. Slap him. Push him around. He adores it- the two of you fucking like wild animals, clawing and at each others throats, all the while his girthy length his pounding into your sweet tight hole.

𝐽𝐸𝑅𝑉𝐼𝑆 𝑇𝐸𝑇𝐶𝐻

♫ “Tell me that you love it darling." The Valley by Miguel

Jervis has a very deep seated need to have you close to him. To have you bonded with him. He's obsessive, clingy, stalkerish. And he loves a good old fashioned Victorian flirtation. But god, he gets tired of waiting.

He's a gentlemen through and through. But even gentlemen have needs. And when he sees you in that light blue dress he bought you, pussy peaking out through the short skirt? Or how you lick your lips when the tea he makes you dribbles down?

He'll have to take what he wants eventually.

He knows you'll say yes. Even though the two of you have never talked about sex. No, you're his Alice. His willing little girl. Why would you ever say no to him? And he's right. He could ask, and you would probably say yes.

But, just for a precaution...Can't have you running off like the white rabbit, can he?

It will be late night after the two of you have tea. And he'll pull out his pocket watch. And before you know it, you'll be pinned on top a table, dress pooling between your legs, pulling on his hair against your will.

It's a sight he will never sick of. His sticky ropes of cum dripping, tainting the dress he'd bought you. It trickles down from your spine. You'll be too fucked out to walk the next day, and you won't even remember why.

He takes you, ignoring your pleas and whines of overstimulation. He'll continue to stuff his cock inside you until he feels pity for you.

Hypnotizing you while he's balls-deep inside of you, messily thrusting as he tries to concentrate. "You love this. Tell me you love me. Tell me you love this." His words scramble as he comes undone himself, letting your mind wash over and speak the words against your will.

If somehow you piece two and two together, the cum stains on your dress- and the feeling of being stretched out the next morning...assure him he doesn't have to hypnotize you.

Or let him keep it up. It's more fun for him this way.

[mewintheflesh-2]

Without You

Rating: Teen and Up audiences

Archive warnings: None

Characters: Francis Mosses, Original Characters

Tags: Unrequited Love, heartbreak, Song: Without You (Strawberry Guy), Crushes, Unrequited Crushes, Francis Mosses has sensory issues (briefly mentioned), minor blood and injury, Francis deals with the qualms of being a retail worker (kinda), men crying, emotional hurt, hurt/no comfort, not beta read, Reader is gender neutral.

Word count: 1,800 (rounded down)

Summary: Francis wasnt having a good time.

And you're not about to make it any better

Also posted on Ao3

Francis sighed solomly as he gripped the now empty milk carrier. Hard enough to leave imprints on his hand and whiten his knuckles.

His black leather shoes clicked and clacked against the cold, concrete sidewalk. The sunset painting everything around him in a golden light. It'd be nighttime soon.

He lifted his free hand to his head and clutched his sweaty hair from underneath his hat. He was so tired. He just wanted to get home and sleep.

But he mostly just wanted to talk to you.

Even if you only really talked through that thick, protective window, youd been making more and more conversation with eachother each time you spoke, getting to know eachother more and more each day.

It wasnt long before Francis' lovesick brain fell head over heels.

It was everything about you. The way you looked, with a smile rivaling the warmth of the sun, and just as dangerous to his heart and mind. You always seemed to know exactly what to say to him to pull at his heart like a puppet on a string.

If he didnt know any better, hed say you were doing it on purpose.

He wouldnt mind either way.

Francis slugged up to the reception window, a weight lifted off of him at the sight of you at your desk.

He pushed his ID and Entry Request inside the letterbox for you to receive, planting his hands on the metal shelf jutting out of the wall just below the window; watching you expectantly with a simultaneous aching and soothing feeling in his heart.

After a minute of shuffling papers and opening folders, you look up at him.

"Hello, Francie." You smiled warmly at him.

There it was.

That nickname.

God how it made his heart swell. 

'Francie.'

Such a cute nickname

and it was just for him, gifted from you.

"How's your day been?" You tilted your head slightly at him, setting down and organizing his identification and sliding his profile back into the appropriate folder.

Francis looked at you for a second before frowning. "Not great." He sighed as he shook his head softly, looking down at his shoes.

Your eyebrows knit together in concern, a frown adorning your lips.

"I'm sorry, Francie. What happened, if you dont mind me asking?" Your voice was so warm and soft as you leaned in closer to the window.

It made Francis' heart flutter for a second before he had to think back to all that had happened earlier.

"It's just a lot of little things building up. I'm probably more upset about it than I should be." Francis looked down at his hands, and then up to you.

The expression on his face was just killing your heart. 

"Im all ears." You speak softly as you push your chair in closer to your desk, and by extension, the window.

"If theres anything you need to say, then say it. Its always nice to get things off your chest, dont you think?" You smile softly at him, pushing your chair closer to your desk, and closer to the window by extension.

"Are you sure?" Francis looked around, almost worried. Surely he'd be taking up your time on your job if he did that, right?

"I have all the time in the world-- and I'd rather be talking to you than anything else right now." You assured, that deadly warm smile on your lips again.

The words made Francis feel warm and soft.

A small smile appeared on his face for a brief, fleeting moment. 

 Francis stared at you for a moment, as if asking for approval to speak.

You nod.

He sighed, looking down at the metal shelf infront of him as his ungloves hands tapped at it, wondering where to begin.

"Its just- work has been just awful today.  Someone had left their dog outside, as soon as it saw me it wouldn't stop chasing me, i tried to run away, but it eventually caught up to me and bit my leg.

It wouldnt let go until I had to pry it off of me. And even then it didn't leave me alone for awhile. Not until it's owners came back to take it off of me." 

You frowned, trying to open your mouth to speak, but Francis kept talking.

"And because of that dog, i dropped and broke multiple milk bottles on the sidewalk. So after the dog got taken off of me, i tried picking up the glass since I didn't want anybody accidentally stepping on it because of me, but the shards cut me. Badly. Even through my gloves."

He held his hand up to the window for you to see. There were bloodied bandages wrapped around his hand, and several smaller cuts on his bare fingers. 

You cringe at the sight.

"I had to take them off to clean the wounds, and everything has just been sensory hell ever since." Francis' face draws to a grimace.

"And to make things worse, I had to deal with people yelling at me for being incompetent for losing their deliveries."

He clenched his jaw, his expression doesn't look anything but sad.

"Even though it wasn't even my fault. I'm not the one who left their dog outside. And just to top it off, I've had a horrible migrane all day, and It's just-" He inhales and groans,  collapsing onto the metal shelf infront of him.

"I just want to take a break. I just want to rest."

He mumbles as he tucks his face into his folded arms.

Silence, for a moment.

"Francie........... That's awful-- I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?" You frown sympathetically as you push you chair forward even more, squishing yourself against your desk and placing a hand on the window infront of you.

Francis lifted his head to look up at your hand, and then at you.

"I think talking to you and going to sleep is  enough for me to feel better." Francis smiled briefly before registering what he'd said, casting his gaze anywhere but you after he realized what he'd spoken.

You laugh softly. "If you say so."

Silence for a bit, as Francis regains his composure.

He lifts himself up, slowly propping himself on his elbows on the shelf, leaning his head on his knuckles, huffing out a breath of air.

"...How was your day?" He asks after a beat, head tilted curiously.

You smile, retracting your hand from the window. "My days been pretty slow, but im meeting someone later, so im pretty excited for that."

Meeting someone?

...

Francis blinked for a second. His expression faltering to a look of sadness for just a moment.

No. Surely you didnt mean it like that.

"Meeting someone...?" He echoed.

"Mhm." You smiled softly at the thought. "We met just a few days ago. He seems pretty nice, I'm excited to get to know him more." You lean your head on your hand, mirroring the man behind the glass.

"A-ah.......... Congratulations." Francis did his best to refrain from letting any indication of his emotions fall upon his face as he straightened himself out; but he couldn't help but frown. 

"Francie? Are you alright?" You tilted your head the slightest bit, voice a catalyst of concern for the man standing on the other side of the thick, protective glass. 

"Mhm. I just remembered something. Apologies." He held the brim of his cap between his pointer and thumb, pulling it down over his eyes the slightest bit to avoid looking at you. But he really couldn't help himself.

"Oh, alright. Is there, uh, anything I can help you with?" Your voice was calm and careful in a way that just broke poor Francies heart even more. "About what you remembered- I mean." 

"No, no. It's fine. Thanks for the offer." He shook his head softly, forcing a small smile as he looked down at the shelf infront of him.

"Of course, Francie." Your eyebrows knit together in concern. "Just let me know if there's anything I can do for you. You can tell me anything." 

"Mhm. Thank you." Francis took a quick glance at the door, before looking back in your direction-- though nowhere near directly at you. You put together he was probably signaling to you that he wanted to leave now.

"I'll see you tommorow?" Your voice was soft, sweet, a delicacy and a curse to Francis' ears.

There was a light buzzing noise as you pressed the button to unlock the main entrance. 

"Mhm. Goodbye." He waved at you softly, only actually looking into your eyes for a brief, fleeting moment before walking away. 

"Goodbye........." You spoke quietly, a soft pit in your stomach as you watched Francis dissappear through the doors.

You were so caught off guard by his sudden change in behavior you nearly forgot to lock the door again.

He usually liked to stay for as long as he could.

Was it something you said?

You frowned, leaning back in your chair and fidgeting with some papers.

You'd have to ask him about it tomorrow.

Again began the waiting for your neighbors to return to their apartments.

Francis opened his apartment door with shaking hands, keys jingling as they were set on his kitchen counter.

With a heavy sigh, he flicked on his lamp, enveloping the room in a warm yellow glow, trying to keep his composure.

Slowly but surely he kicked off his shoes, grabbing and throwing his hat onto his dresser.

Just as he was about to unbutton his uniform he was hit with a sudden disgusting, sickening feeling in his chest as tears welled up in his eyes.

He shook his head, eyes squinting involuntary as he let himself fall onto his bed.

He lied there, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore anything he was feeling.

But no matter how many times he tried, something still peeked through.

He inhaled sharply through his nose as he flipped himself over onto his stomach, nestling his face into his soft pillows.

The feeling in his chest was too intense to bear, he could feel his breath become sporadic, unsure if it was because his face was buried in his pillows or otherwise.

He inhaled sharply once more, this time followed followed by a small Hic as his throat began to close up.

No, no, he wasn't going to cry. It's not that big of a deal. He's fine. He should be happy for you if anything.

But. With everything that happened up until that point. He really couldn't help himself from letting his emotions get the best of him.

Hot tears soaked into his pillow as his hands clutched at his hair violently, hissing in pain as his wounds flexed open.

He grits his teeth, another hic escaping his lips as he opened his eyes into the pillow.

Nothing but a warm, yellowish void.

 He pushed himself up and flipped onto his side, curling into himself, yanking a blanket over his shoulders before clutching his head, throbbing in a burning pain once again as he cried quietly.

He didn't even turn off the lamp before he'd passed out.

Silent, steady breathing, wet cheeks illuminated by the soft yellow light of his lamp. 

Tired eyes, finally getting their well deserved rest. 

An aching heart, beating slowly, deep inside his chest.

[alienaiver]

Multiple gold medals 🥇

Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

synopsis: athlete is a noun. it is the person who is involved in the physical activity of sport or containing that agile quality. athletic is an adjective meaning physically active. you are neither, at least according to your rude boyfriend.

tags: summer olympics 2024, fluff, sfw, established relationship, banter and playfighting, canon compliant-ish, post-timeskip, no use y/n, humor, poc and body positive reader tho reader is Not sporty, one shot warnings: theres a minor-minor description of tickling/blowing a raspberry. otherwise, none! wordcount: 1.2k

notes: written for @tetzoro 's summer olympics collab! this was so fun. ive probably watched a total of six minutes of the olympics this year, i apologize 😔👊🏽 i love a good banter, tho. i hope i delivered!!! ✨

You throw an M&M up in the air to catch with your mouth, but it lands sadly on your collarbone before sliding down by your neck, lost underneath you between the throw pillows. You mentally promise Kuroo to pick it up as soon as you get up for water.

It’s your day off and you’re beat. The heat is nothing to scoff at, either; the humidity making any endeavors outside of the apartment walls virtually impossible.

Well, to you at least. Kuroo’s on a convenience store run to pick up as many snacks as he’s able to carry, and your favorite milk tea. The men’s volleyball game in the Olympics is tonight, Argentina against Japan. He’s been buzzing ever since they qualified for the finale. As much as you love to listen to him yap, his excitement is only working to make you impatient for something you didn’t think you’d care that much about.

Volleyball’s never been your strong interest. Sport in general isn’t high on your list, actually. It wasn’t until you met Kuroo that you even began watching the Olympics at all.

Right now the Olympics are on, too. It’s been on most of the days when either of you occupy his home, and right now it’s time for the Men’s Single luge. You’ve never heard of it before, but it’s a sort of sled competition in an ice tube sort of field.

You’re about to throw the next M&M into your mouth when the door clicks open. “I’m back!” you hear Kuroo yell out, and you greet him back before eating the candy. You hear him sit down by the genkan to take off his shoes; he firmly refuses to toe his new sneakers on and off like his old ones. It ruins the structure of the back quicker, he claims. He wants to be more environmentally conscious and take better care of his things.

He groans as he comes in, wiping his neck and collar with his handkerchief. You smile up at him, admiring the way his bangs stick to his forehead from the perspiration. On his shoulder hangs his tote bags, brimming with contents you can’t wait to dive into. When you reach out for it, he yells, “ah!” and pulls it dramatically away from your reach.

“It’s for tonight!” he huffs, puffing up his chest and jutting out his bottom lip. You shake your head, “just lemme see! Gimme an unboxing, at least!” you make grabby-hands at him, and he throws his head back, “nuh-uh. I’m putting it in the kitchen for later. You need a real dinner first, too.”

You fall back onto the couch with a huff, “as if you’ll be able to eat anything during the match anyways.”

“What was that?” he calls back tersely from the kitchen but you just blow air out through your nose, “nothing.”

As in defiance of him restricting you, you put four M&M’s in your mouth at the same time.

Just to prove a point.

He comes back out after he’s washed his face, and leans against your head, “what’s on now?”

He kisses your cheek.

“Luge.”

“Huh?”

“Sled.”

“Ah.”

He jumps the backrest of the couch to land next to you, and you laugh and dodge the arm that almost pulls your head down with his entire weight. The plastic of the M&M’s container crinkles as you lift it to offer him some. Instead of reaching for it like a normal person, he pushes his face into the bag like a freak, and you pull it away with a screech. He looks proud when he looks up, crunching loudly to prove he succeeded in getting a few.

You take a handful before you put the bag on the table and cuddle up to your boyfriend. He sighs as he settles with an arm around you and you start to watch the games silently.

There’s an awkward sort of silence from the commentators as the athletes ride on their sleds, like they’re holding their breath and waiting for something spectacular to happen at every turn, but it’s pretty straightforward. Technical, sure, but straightforward nonetheless. It’s only during the sharp turns that they really say anything, and it’s without much substance. It doesn’t really give a fair idea on how much skill is needed to do this.

You throw an M&M and succeed in catching it. “I could do that.” you conclude after a person reaches the goal, the successful catch fueling your ego. Kuroo doesn’t even spare you a glance or a visible reaction, “sure.”

You playfully punch at his thigh, “I totally could! It’s just downhill.”

Kuroo snorts, “yeah, then to the left in a sharp turn and oh! Right after that another sharp turn. I’d sooner see you crash walking up the stairs to the ice tube.”

You gasp in offense and sit up, shaking off his arm from your shoulder, “excuse me!” you say, your voice high-pitched and scratchy. Kuroo gives you one of his handsome, disarming, lop-sided smirks that you almost fall for, before you catch yourself.

He reaches out for you again but you move further away, “have you no confidence in me?” you mock-cry, giving him a look of absolute disgust, “are you all talk? Lowering the net for people to enjoy your favorite sport, but you don’t care about other athletics like me? Huh?” you cross your arms and pout, and Kuroo snickers at your choice of words before he leans his head back onto the backrest. Athletics.

“You can barely catch a stray piece of candy you throw yourself.”

You gasp, and point to the bag of M&M’s, “you saw me catching one just a minute ago!”

Kuroo lifts his arm, his hand closed in a fist. You follow his movement as he reaches out for you, turns the fist and reveals a half-melted M&M in his open palm, “there’s like six of them between these pillows right now.”

You raise an eyebrow, “so? That’s from when you stuck your head in the bag like a pig.” your exaggerated lie makes him nod thoughtfully, “yeah, yeah, I’m sure you’re right. You’d win, but not at luge.”

Your eyes open up, excitement visible as you lean forward, “what sport do you see me winning?”

Kuroo keeps his face neutral as he collects the fallen heroes of candy you've sacrificed to throw out, “you’d win a various of games, actually. You’d be the gold winner in all of them, even.”

You lean forward even more, and he laughs then, “qualifications for sports like overthinking situations that happened years ago, jumping to conclusions and complaining about your stomach hurting after eating dairy”- he’s interrupted when you push all the way onto him with your entire weight, smashing your face into his chest and immediately blowing a raspberry -”and best of all,” he laughs and feebly tries to push you away as you try to reach his neck to give it the same treatment, “being delusional on main, and hey! Stop it!”

He’s pushing at you more desperately now, unwilling to let you attack him directly on the skin. There’s mirth in his voice still and you giggle before you succeed. He howls and grabs onto your shoulders, “I yield! I yield! Fine! You’d win in luge!”

You pull away immediately as he yields, a satisfied grin on your face. “Hmph, now that wasn’t so hard, was it? To recognize talent for what it is.” you turn around and situate yourself again up against him and he lets out a chuckle as he kisses the crown of your head and wraps his arms around you.

After a moment of just resting his own head against yours, he asks, suddenly serious, “do you wanna try luge one day? There’s also luges for doubles. There’s a stadium for it downtown.”

“Oh, never in a million years.”

[awkward-tension-art]

Darkness on Umbara Chp.3 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 2. Chapter 4.

Marching on

cw: Rex x Reader, Reader is a medic, incorrect military procedure, graphic descriptions of injuries, blood, swearing, death and battle, Spoilers for the Umbara Arc, Pong Krell is an asshole, reader insert, Reader gets yelled at, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK

Minors DNI, even if theres no smut

“Quicken that pace battalion, this isn't some training course on Kamino!” 

If you had to hear one more fucking command from Krell, you may just inject him with all the painkillers in your pack.

It’s been almost 4 hours of his self-importance. You were patient, but by all the gods in existence you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

Fives scoffed next to you, “The uh…new General has a way with words.” His tone was directed at Rex, who had wanted you at the front of the march with him. 

His reasoning for such a formation? ‘Keep an eye on the supplies’. In reality? ‘to protect you.’

The clone captain looked to the ARC trooper, “He's just trying to keep us on schedule.”

“By raising everyone’s ire?” You leaned forward slightly to look over at your lover. You didn’t mean to give him any grief, but it was a good question. Just what was Krell hoping to achieve by annoying everyone?

“Either way he's in charge, and we got a job to do.” Rex responded taking your question in stride, “Treat him with respect and we'll all get along fine.”

You sighed, “As long as that respect is mutual.”

“You know we don’t always get that luxury.” The captain looked at you. You could practically feel his disapproving gaze through his visor.

You backed down, not wanting to stress him out any more than he already was, “I know…I know…just…” With another sigh, you gave him a soft smile, “Just want to keep you and everyone else safe.”

“Especially me?” Fives chimed in, a smirk clear in his voice. 

You snorted, “Yes Fives, especially you.”

Rex let out a soft laugh, “That’s enough chatter. We need to focus.” 

“Speaking of.” The ARC trooper nudged the captain and pointed upward, “Do you see that?”

In the distance, two glowing…beasts were flying directly towards your battalion. They had impressive speed as they descended quickly. Their bodies were triangular, with bioluminescent under bellies and spiked tails.

“Yea, ready your weapons!” Rex commanded, pulling his pistols. The other troopers followed his lead. The barrage of blaster fire began as soon as one of them swooped, yanking an ARF trooper, Jock, from his AT-RT. It turned sharply and let go, slamming the clone downward into the ground.

You heard the crack through the blasters.

The second dove and grabbed a trooper behind you. He cried out in pain and fear as it flew upward again, taking him from the ground. The shots continued and you got up from the speeder to tend to the down ARF trooper. 

You didn’t make it far, as the first glowing beast made a second swoop aiming for you. Jesse, to his credit, did a wonderful job of protecting you by tackling you to the ground for the second time in a rotation, “Oh no you don’t!” He growled, aiming his gun upward and firing. 

The bioluminescent creature dodged every shot and made another turn, lifting upward to make another pass. 

“Thanks, second time you saved me.” You nodded to him, getting up and rushing to Jock. His leg was broken, fibula stabbing through broken plastoid. Immediately you administered painkillers. This poor man was probably in agony.

Krell had quickly disposed of the second. The Jedi had leapt upward and ripped the beast's claws open, dropping the other trooper. His size and weight worked to the advantage as the animal couldn’t lift. 

The two of them hit the ground where the besalisk stabbed both his lightsabers through its torso. It died with a high pitched screech before Krell sliced the last one as it tried to swoop, bringing it down as well. 

Rex and Fives kept their guns pointed at the beast, but the new General shouted, “anyone else want to stop and play with the animals!?” He punctuated his point by driving his foot down on the creature's body. It jerked before going still, “Didn’t think so. Now keep moving!”

You huffed, turning back to the soldier, “I got you.” Your voice was kind and soft, “I’m not going anywhere, OK?”

He nodded, gloved hands trembling and gripping his thigh. Even with the painkillers, you knew he must’ve been feeling like absolute hell. 

“Jesse,” You looked up at the senior trooper, “Can you get the speeder please?” The soldier needed surgery, but you couldn’t do it here. Not in the open. 

He saluted and quickly stepped away. 

“How bad?” Kix asked, pulling off his pack and kneeling next to you. He remained calm, despite the earlier excitement, “Damn, Jock. Don’t worry. We got you.”

“We are moving!” Krell shouted somewhere behind you. 

“Give us a few minutes!” you snapped, not looking up as you worked. “Help me stabilize the leg, I can't fix it here.”

“We have bacta and medication to deal with any infections later.” the medic beside you nodded, “Get a splint in place.”

“North, take his AT-RT,” You heard Fives’ command the ARF trooper you treated earlier. As soon as the ARC troopers words were spoken, North had gotten up from the stretcher as Jesse approached with the speeder. While you would have preferred him to rest, that currently wasn’t an option. Thankfully, he was at least conscious enough to operate a vehicle. 

Plus, leaving behind a perfectly functional and even devastating weapon in the hands of the enemy was a very bad idea.

Jock was trembling. Pain and shock from staring at his broken leg most likely. Even hardened soldiers would panic at the sight of one of their bones stabbing outside of their body, “Hey Jock, don’t worry. We got you, ok?” You shifted slightly, lowering your face so he’d pay attention to you and not his wound.

“Troopers!” 

“Can you not fucking see-!” a heavy hand yanked you back and to your feet. You stumbled, but kept upright. 

Krell was glaring at you, a fire of wrath in his eyes,“I told you, we. are. Moving! Do not ignore a direct order!” 

Now it was your turn to be enraged, “Respectfully, General, my priority is to the wellbeing of this army. It is my duty as a field doctor to help them when they’re injured. Surely as a jedi you understand the importance of duty.” You kept your eyes on him, refusing to look away. 

Arguing with your General normally wasn’t an option. However, in your training it was emphasized that your rank as a medic held special privileges, such as ignoring orders that may inhibit you from caring for the wounded.

But something told you that the Jedi in front of you didn’t really care.

You didn’t see how Hardcase held Rexs’ arm, doing his best to keep the captain from making a grave mistake. He was normally able to think clearly and not let his emotions dictate his decisions. Unless it came to you. The one he loved so dearly.

The new General huffed and straightened his back, “You have 60 seconds to get him stabilized and loaded on to the stretcher,” He clasped his arms behind him again and began to walk to the front, he turned his head back at you, “Next time, I will not stand for such insubordination, because it is my duty to lead these troops so the Republic can take the capital of this planet.” 

You swallowed and saluted, turning back to Jock. With the help of Kix and Jesse, the injured trooper was situated on the stretcher. You gave him another dose of painkillers and let him drift off to sleep. 

“You can tell the General we had 20 seconds to spare.” You grumbled to Fives, getting back on your speeder. Within minutes a formation was established again. Your pace was with the men, staying behind Rex, Fives and Krell. 

“Are you ok?” Kix asked as he walked next to you. 

“Yes.” You rubbed your face in your hand, ignoring the small sting of the blaster burn to your cheek. You still hadn’t dealt with it yet. 

Your medic friend patted your back in sympathy. He shared your frustrations. 

Anakin would never have pulled you away from tending to the injured. He would have knelt down and helped you, or had his lightsabers ready to protect you. His padawan would have done the same, perhaps even go after whoever injured the trooper to begin with. 

But Anakin wasn’t here. Neither was Ahsoka. Instead, you were stuck with Pong fucking Krell. 

About an hour later Rex had slowed his pace to walk next to you, “Mesh’la.” He spoke softly, making sure no one else could hear, “You haven’t dealt with the cut on your cheek.” 

Oh. Right, you keep forgetting about it. 

“It’s alright.” You gave him a small smile, “the men are going to need all the bacta they can get. A tiny scratch like this doesn’t matter.” 

He remained silent for a moment before shaking his head, “Please be careful, the men need you.” His words hid the true meaning, from everyone except you. 

I need you. 

“I am, Captain.” You answered, “You just promise me you’ll stay alive to lead us.” 

Please don’t become one of the injured I have to treat. 

“I promise.” His hand twitched. He wanted so badly to cup your injured cheek and kiss it better. But not right now. Not around others. Not in such a hostile place.

“Captain Rex.” Your voice became quieter, “Ner kar’ta.” 

“Ner narser.” He whispered back before straightening up. Your lover became the captain again, needing to focus on the mission at hand. Still, to hide your relationship, he spoke slightly louder, letting others hear, “you can’t disobey orders again, understood?” 

You nodded, “yes, Captain. It won’t happen again,” Subtly, you gave him a smile. 

He returned to his position closer to Krell after that. However, occasionally he’d cast a quick glance back at you. 

After about an hour, you heard some whispered chatter behind you. Looking back, you noticed a trooper, Oz, leaning against Tup and limping. You gave him a look of confusion and slowed the speeder to get next to them.

“It's nothing to worry about, Doc.” Oz informed you, “Just…probably twisted my ankle when that beast dropped me.” It was a clear lie. From your perspective it looked more like something had fractured in his knee.

Your gaze drifted to Jock, soundly knocked out on the stretcher. Why are so many soldiers getting leg injuries? 

“Regardless, we can’t know the true extent unless I get a proper look.” your gaze drifted to Krell. The bastard would flip out if he knew you stopped again. Still, Oz needed to get off that leg, “Take the speeder.”

“Doc?”

“You’ve used one right? It's easy.” You slipped off of the vehicle and pushed it along before Oz or anyone could argue, “Take it, at least to rest the ankle.” 

He paused but Tup pulled him slightly, “Come on, doctor's orders.” 

Without much more fuss, the injured trooper did as you directed. He sat down and let out a small sigh of relief, “Thank you.” clearly he hid his pain behind soldier bravado.

You nodded, deciding to walk next to Tup for now. Your eyes went to North, making sure he seemed alert and aware. For now, the ARF trooper was recovering from his wounds well, getting some weight off your shoulders. Still, everyone needed a breather. It's been about five hours since they started marching and while clones had stellar endurance, they would need a break at some point.

You kept your eyes ahead, focusing on the backs of those in front of you. It was a few hours later when your thoughts were interrupted.

“Are you ok, Doc?” Tup asked you quietly. 

You couldn’t hide the irritation in your voice, “You are the second person to ask me that within the last few hours. Do I not look ok?” He seemed startled at your response and you honestly felt bad. Poor Tup was barely a shiny, so you sighed and nodded, “Just thinking, Tup. I'm alright.” 

Before he could respond, Hardcase draped his arm over your shoulder, “Hey Doc, I got a cut on my lip. Can you kiss it to make it better?”

You snorted, repressing your laugh. Sometimes the soldiers would flirt and joke, all in good fun. Hardcase was especially friendly, knowing went to chime in to lift the mood. Honestly, you appreciated it. 

Tup looked downright offended on your behalf, “Hardcase!” 

Jesse looked back from his position. Even under the helmet you knew he was looking confused. 

“Whatever happens next, I am not a part of it.” you responded with a shrug, looking ahead. 

“See? The doc doesn’t care, ease up.” Now the hyperactive trooper moved on to leaning against Tup. the two bickered quietly as you continued to walk. However, over time their voices died down.

It was around the 12th hour when you realized the silence was from exhaustion. Everyone, including you, was barely hanging on by a thread. The clone endurance you praised earlier had finally hit its limit.

“Kix,” You stepped up next to him, “Tell Captain Rex that we need a break.” your voice was a hushed whisper. You feared if Krell heard you make the request, he’d push the men even harder out of spite. 

The medic agreed with you and sped up his pace to speak to Rex. You, however, fell back next to the medical speeder and checked on the injured. Oz had been doing a good job at controlling the thing, though you could tell his leg was still bothering him. Jock was still out cold, you and Kix periodically checked to make sure he didn’t wake up in agony. North remained coherent and aware as well, he piloted the AT-RT as if he had never been injured, indicating the bacta you’d given him was working well. 

Your observations came to a halt as Krell’s voice pierced the air, “CT-7567 are you reading me?”

“Excuse me, sir?” Your secret lover sounded as confused as everyone was feeling. 

The jedi continued, “I ask you a question, CT-7567 do you understand the need to adhere to my strategy?” Blessedly, he stopped to continue to yell at Rex. Despite how you felt at your lover being targeted so viciously, at least the men had something of a breather. And Rex was a man, he could take an angry General. 

The clone captain shook his head, trying to reason, “Sir, the terrain is extremely hostile, despite the difficulty of the conditions the battalion is making good time. These men just need a little break.” It was a desperate attempt to get some kind of humanity out of the besalisk. 

The General practically snarled and continued his verbal assault, “Captain, do I need to remind you of this battalion’s strategic mission in conquering this planet?” He motioned over all the soldiers behind him, “Look back, see those platoons? Their mission is to take this city and take it swiftly, time and rest are luxuries the Republic cannot afford!” Krell didn’t give up just yet, leaning forward an inch away from the captain's face, “The other battalions are counting on our support, if we fail everyone fails. Do you understand this? Does everyone understand this?!” His yelling was now directed at everyone around him. His critical gaze roamed over the battalion practically challenging anyone to speak up.

When there was only silence, he scoffed and turned, continuing his steps, “Now move on!”

Rex’s shoulders slumped slightly, but quickly, he returned to his stiff and professional posture. With a glance back and a nod, the 501st began to march again.

You shared a look with Hardcase and continued. It was going to be another long few hours of exhausted silence before you stopped again.

[official-darkforest]

in your anthro au, does bramble actually make it to canada? is the plotline of the lake territory scrapped for something else?

rambled quite a bit here!

no, they dont make it to canada. they abandoned that idea after feather was killed. instead her funeral and burial is held in california by her dying wish and her family drives/flies over. graystripe and mosspelt took feather's car, but mosspelt flies back home via plane. graystripe is staying wirh storm indefinitely and eventually meets millie.

with storm's blessing, bramble,tawny, crow, and squirrel take the van back home. tawny is dropped off on the way, but crow insists on tagging along to thunder because he's not ready to be alone yet. his family is pretty small and he's not sure his parents will be able to help much, as much as they may try.

dodging the draft can get you into trouble, but there are many that got off scot free and bramble was one pf those lucky fellows (especially with firestar's involvement. he made sure bramble wouldn't have it held against him in return for keeping squirrel safe and bringing her home). firestar was furious at both bramble and squirrel but he's not cruel and unsympathetic, especially considering they just lost a very close friend (and that gray isnt coming back for a while).

this is where crow and leaf meet, crow is kinda bunking with bramble at his place and even had plans to move in for good. his parents were pretty combative but couldnt do much since he was a few states away!!! they dont know where the fuck thunder-whatever is. but eventually he gets a call about his father's rapidly declining health and immediately abandons his plans to stay. he asks leaf to come with him but leaf still isn't finished with med school (she doesn't know she's pregnant yet) and they part ways. crow makes it home to help ashfoot care for deadfoot in his final few months and fills in after his father dies. it's something he didnt plan to continue but its notnlike he HATES doing the work. eventually meets+marries nightcloud a 1-4 yrs later

leaf meanwhile continues med school. being unmarried with kids is still a social taboo, especially at such a young age (im imagining she and squirrel are around 18-19 by now, 17 during the road trip). squirrel and bramble, however, had been in a relationship with one another for a while after coming back home. sure, it got a bit messy when ashfur came back from vietnam and got a bit too close to squirrel for comfort, but they sorta resolved it and eventually bramble/squirrel got engaged. leaf confided in squirrel for her help with the pregnancy and squirrel immediately offered to take the children in as her own if leaf needed. it was a huge jump but leaf took the offer. bramble was let in on the plan the closer leaf got to her due date. he thought it was a very impulsive decision and they fought a bit about making the decision without him but he was enthusiastic about being a father regardless.

the others in town had their suspicions but dont ask dont tell.

theres some other parts i havent fully ironed out yet like where hawkfrost and mothwint come in.

as for the actual lake territories, they coexist with the forest territories by just being in different states LOL windclan and thunderclan's territory was pretty consistent in terms of The Basics so theyre mostly in the same general area (tc is east coast forests, wc is southwest-midwest prairies. theres a lot of cowboys, farmers, and ranchers in "windclan" as a result). shadowclan i can see being in the southern swamps, especially florida or louisiana, and riverclan is kinda interspersed alont the mississippi and ohio rivers. maybe a few along the east coast, too, as the lake territory equivalent. skyclan is probably in the rockies or the redwood forests out west. maybeeee old skyclan is in the appalachias???? idk LOL since the cats are so far apaer now the conflicts are a little less wide scale and more personal if rhat makes any sense at all. of course this whole au is a huge work in progress so some of what i say here may change!

the clans are rural/small/poor towns in my head. tight knit communities that have to rely on each other. kittypets are urban/suburbanites as a contrast and keep the 'kittypets r fucjing spoiled' theme going . you inow the city slicker junk LOL

bloodclan is probably a gang in new york. at least scourge's bloodclan. the other iterations are probably in other huge metropolitan cities. idk what warriorclan is, and the tribe is a whole can of worms im trying to be very careful with so im not gonna talk about them as a whole quite yet other than imply they exist

[voidimp]

hmmmm i need. new practice heads for bjd faceups. i dont like any of the ones i have. unfortunately they are not cheap