4.2 || Childe & Neuvillette Against The Narwhal

Well this is a new one.

For real big Hive Eris Morn vibes. Just replace "planet" with "guardian" and "space" with "hive magic".

Hot Shit | Tom Cardy

BALDUR'S GATE 3 (2023) dev. Larian Studios

I guess that's why he's such a neigh sayer, always rejecting Ana/the Guardian's plans

2:13AM AS I FINISH THIS ONE UP. Right back at it again with the sleepless hours *ka-ching* and the finger guns *points and imitates shooting*. No reason for this either. Just some mindless brain vomit and angst / distrust. Ive been having bad health times for past month and i think its putting me in a worse spot than the usual mental stuff. 😞 throwing words down sometimes gives a dash of serotonin so here we are

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"HEY KID, D'YA TRUST ME?"

Your gaze is diverted from the enormous taken ogre spawning into the arena towards the Drifter, shouting as he ran to be heard over the monstrosity's roars. He's dashing over to one pile of weapons crates filled with untested Strand hybridized guns that the two of you were supposed to be testing out on excess packs of thralls, taken from Gambit. The ground quakes as the ogre stomps into existence and you see Drifter turn his head to lock eyes with yours.

"No."

The word tumbles from your lips before you can register what you're saying, it's barely audible amidst the ogre's howls, but you see instantly that Drifter read your lips and knew. Almost imperceptibly his eyes briefly widened in shock and something deep within them shatters, then his face hardens into one of his usual showman's masks.

For a moment you almost didn't believe that thats what you saw in his eyes, but you know its the truth when Drifter overshots the crates and trips. His momentum carries him forward and he tries to roll into it to regain control, but he lands right outside of cover and in full view of the enraged ogre's eye. Before you can react, the orgre swings a clawed arm at Drifter and with a bellow, sends him flying. Drifter arcs across the clearing before colliding with one of the gnarled red trees with a sickening crunch of armor. His body falls to the ground and doesn't move.

The ogre releases a triumphant roar and shuffles to face Drifter's prone body, it's mutated eye beginning to quiver. You rush forth, lobbing a fusion nade at the ogre's legs and lunge for the weapon crates. The grenade sticks and ignites, exploding with a sticky wetness as it begins to burn into the ogre's leg. The creature howls in pain as it's staggered, body lite with a strange orange glow from the solar grenade. It finds you just as you claim a heavy stock from the weapons crate and it roars out a challenge. An eyeblast is soon to follow, sending woodchips and loose munitions flying from the crates you used as cover. You find a heavy magazine of ammo that seems to match the stock in your hands. To your relief the magazine clicks in place and the gun's automatic loading readies the ammo. The crates behind you creak with stress and you take the cue to tumble out of the way. As you go for new cover, you search for Drifter's body at the base of the gnarled tree, but there is nothing. A dull click from the weapon in your hands signals that it's ready to fire. Raising the heavy stock to press against your shoulder you level the experimental weapon and peer out of cover, scanning for the taken ogre. You take aim for the center of the ogre's eye and pull back the trigger with a heavy click. The weapon whirls as the trigger is pulled back then goes silent once it clicks home. Half a second later it fires, the impact thundering through your shoulder and almost knocking you down. Even though you braced for the strong recoil, the stock of the weapon jumps and the rebound dislocates your shoulder. Too heavy for one hand, you drop the weapon and reach for the handcannon at your hip. The Ogre's head is kicked back by the force of the round finding its target, but when it steadies itself again, you don't see any signs of damage.

You fire the entirety of the handcannon into the ogre's head, dodging for cover as it swipes at you with broad strokes of its clawed hands. They whistle past you by mere hairs, shredding the bark off of one those red trees. It begins to roar once more, but instead makes a choked gurgle instead. Curious, you cautiously peer out from your cover to see the ogre clawing at its head. A faint swirl of green threads knots and twists around itself within the ogre. The eye of the ogre begins to swell, then bulge as a massive Threadling burrows its way out of the ogre. It bursts through at the exact point you fired the hybrid weapon at earlier. The giant Threadling attacks the ogre again, shearing through its corrupted flesh and slaying the beast. Instead of dissipating like its smaller counterparts, the Threadling jumps through and around the corpse, mutilating it further.

Dumbstruck, you step fully out from cover to watch this spectacle. As you do, a twig snaps loudly beneath your foot and the Threadling suddenly stops. It squirms around to face you, shivering, then it launches itself at you to attack. Its too fast for you to react properly in your befuddled state, but from your left comes rapid shotgun shots that tear through the Threadling in a spray of green pellets. The Threadling dissipates and you turn to face the Drifter, clearly battered but somewhat recovered from his ogre-taught flying lesson. He wipes a crusting line of blood from his chin with one hand and gestures with the barrel of the shotgun with the other.

"Get ready for transmat. I'll send your Ghost the payment for testing out the weapons in a bit."

Drifter pauses to suck in a breath through his teeth, eyeing the heavy hybrid weapon and thinking for a moment.

"Hmm. Doubt the Vanguard will like killer, giant Threadlings. Gonna have to trash this batch o' guns this time."

He doesn't turn back to face you as he usually does. You take the awkward silence as a signal to leave and transmat up to your ship. Onboard, Ghost begins to scan your shoulder, putting it back in place and healing torn ligaments. A chime from the ship's console interrupts the tiny machine and its followed by a transmat request. You approve it with a wave of your good hand and the shimmering sounds of an incoming transmat ripple out shortly after. A handcannon appears on your ship's dashboard. You recognize the shape of it without getting up, but there's something different about it. An ornate snake in shifting, metallic green is painted over the barrel and rotary. A small paper note was sent along with it, on it was written:

"Worlds end. And when yours does, make sure you have a partner you can rely on."

In a scrawling handwriting. You know it's Drifter's penmanship. And you know it's an acknowledgment of yourself.

You give the ornament a fitting name:

Doubt.

Szn of da DEEP spoilers ahead

Okay?

Ok.

You've been warned.

OKAY? Ok!!!

THE DRIFTER X ORIN FEELS SHIP BEING CONFIRMED IS

AGAHWBAKAPZMSPQNANAJSKDKFLS

(/ .___.)/ it makes

(_ .___.)_ SENSE (as to why Drifter gives the IX such a big chance & why he willingly-ish joins their games)

Now that being said, Bungie is by far NOT OUT OF THE HELLSCAPE THEY MADE FOR THEMSELVES and this is not a redemption bit for the issues going on in-game and in the community. Im glad this little loose end is starting to get tied off, but a whole lot still hinges upon the last season of Lightfall and Final Shape ...frfr dont even know if im gonna buy FS bc of how fucking ass LF and the two sezns so far are --I am NOT a fan of the change in storytelling and its so fucking ironic that a bungie dev tried to call out Diablo IV as lazy when that dev is helping Bungie to churn out the staleness that has been LF expansion and the subsequent seasons.

Also idc if its not "beyond a shadow of a doubt" but I'm fucking glad the Drifter x Eris shit didnt seem to be passing through. Like if thats your ship --okay, I respect it-- its just for me personally I'm VERY TIRED of games/books/shows shipping two very traumatized/needs-mega-therapy/social outcasts people together. Its not a trope I enjoy and in most cases find kinda disturbing and upsetting that the "only way" for a trauma-ridden character to have a significant bond with another character is via the fact the other character is also extremely traumatized. Idk it just feels a bit like wallowing in the phase of the character's life-moments as a victim to what traumatized them. A bit "broken beyond repair" still able to function as long as their love interest is someone of equal or similar trauma je ne se qoi (ignore my french) that is just very unappealing to me

Wow wild fucking tangent from me this time 🧐🤨😶

it's not even cringe; it's just personal and unpolished and you've been taught to flinch away from vulnerability which doesn't mock itself

just manifesting another weekend!!

writing fics be like

Season 17: Season of Therapy

Season 18: Season of Pierat

Season 19: Season of Technologically Accurate Angel

Season 20: Season of No

Season 21: Season of Fish Tycoon

Renaming every Destiny 2 season so far because I can:

Season 1: Season of Gary

Season 2: Season of No Sparrow

Season 3: Season of BIG WORM

Season 4: Season of Oh No

Season 5: Season of Dakka

Season 6: Season of Snitches

Season 7: Season of Creepy Fanfic

Season 8: Season of Big Spooky

Season 9: Season of Time Paradox

Season 10: Season of (Ca)Balls

Season 11: Season of Triangles

Season 12: Season of Birb

ITS ONLY 11:18PM EST AND IM WRITING A POST??? Hwat

Idk if anyone even cares about this one, but the other night I couldnt sleep (surprise!) and found my old notes for this series idea. I originally was gonna drip feed post it on tumblr but um, uh...obviously that didnt go to plan 💀

Anyway anway tkalss the TLDR is I found notes, got re-inspired, dusted off some ideas from the idea shelf, polished a few grammatical errors out, and uploaded ALL FIFTEEN LITTLE BITS OF THIS FICLET THING onto AO3 (72nd_Cataclysm).

Thats right. There's fifteen little morsels swimming around the AO3 sea inspired by this extremely beautiful piece of poetry written in 2005 by Carol Ann Duffy called You.

I swear on my nonexistent lawyers that it is 0% angst, softly/implied lustful a few times, mostly SFW (if that's yur jam 'n jelly), and HAS A FLUFFY MCFLUFF JUST TWO GUYS IN LOVE ENDING that honestly im p chuffed about bc that was all me bby 🏳️‍🌈

WAIT IT’S NOT THE WEE HOURS OF A NEW DAY?? 9:15 pm. I couldn’t wait to add another little bit of ficlet to this poetry. Wheeeeee

so I went to bed, dreaming you hard, hard, woke with your name (You, Carol Ann Duffy)

Shin awakens, unrested and irritated to find it several hours before dawn back on Earth. Laying on his side, he stares down the length of his arms. How his hands had unconsciously reached for something —someone— as he had slept. His empty palms and the cooler sheets beneath them cause a yearning to break free within his ribcage.