#Noise Marine Heavy Metal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vulturv0lans · 4 months

Note

ive been marinating in this neuvillette thought for days and it is. you know how it rains when he cries. well. what if it starts raining all of a sudden bc his partner is domming him and it just feels so good and he feels so loved he starts crying in pleasure like rip fontaine its rainy hours now

violently ill at this thought rn...also i love that you used "marinating" i might have to steal it i've never written dom reader before so i hope this doesn't suck i'm sorry

it's raining in fontaine again.

not a storm, with raindrops so heavy that they feel like bullets hitting one's skin.

drizzling, soft rain. disappearing as quickly as it came, that people barely have time to dig out their umbrellas before the sky clears again.

of course, rain is nothing new to the people of fontaine, but rather a habitual occurrence. it is said that dark clouds form and rain falls when the hydro dragon weeps. a beautiful legend, yet not many truly believe in it.

but to neuvillette, chief justice of the opera epilesce, the dragon sovereign of this sacred land, whose name people admire but whose face people rarely see, being in his current position is anything but habitual.

his hands are bound to the bedpost by a pair of shiny handcuffs - just where did you get those? he makes a note to interrogate wriothesley later for ever lending you these - but not that he really minds, of course. his white ruffled blouse is rolled up to expose his porcelain skin, slightly damp with a layer of sweat. the veins in his forearms become just that much more prominent with every tug and pull, desperate to be able to touch you.

he’s nearing his orgasm for what feels like the tenth time now, yet you show no sign of granting him his release anytime soon. your hand expertly pumps his cock, now red and leaking in angry protest, occasionally running your thumb over his sensitive tip. his body jolts in response, toes curled and hips bucking into your hand.

neuvillette’s skin burns a deeper shade of red as he thinks of just how lewd his current position is. but before he can fathom another thought, the pink of your lips wrap around his cock and he almost explodes in your mouth at the feather light touch alone.

“please, let me-”

you release him with a loud pop, “let you what?”

he musters a deep, guttural groan at the sudden loss of contact, “let me cum, please.”

you only hum in response. he’s been doing so well, so good for you that maybe he deserves a reward - just not the one he had in mind.

quickly ridding yourself of your lower garments, you straddle him on the bed before slowly moving up. neuvillette curses under his breath in anticipation, eyes fluttering shut before pulling you closer to his waiting mouth, hands instinctively wanting to touch you but are met with a sharp tug of the metal instead.

“be good and stay put for me,” you tut, the rest of your sentence dies in your throat when he impatiently wraps his mouth around your aching clit, the familiar warmth forcing a loud moan off your cherry lips. every noise you make is like fuel to him, silently encouraging him to go deeper, faster, temporarily forgetting about the pathetic state of his cock, rock hard against his stomach and almost dripping precum from several denied orgasms.

he picks up his pace and grows bolder, dipping the tip of his tongue into your folds to get a better taste of you. soon you’re shaking and cumming on his face, juices dripping down his chin before he licks up every single drop, not letting any of your essence go to waste. violet eyes are three shades darker when you finally come down from your high, his skin glistening and his breath fanning across your core in heavy pants.

you smile at him, lazily playing with a strand of his hair as you lean down to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. neuvillette kisses back eagerly, head lifting from the pillows to get better access to your mouth, teeth and tongue clashing as you reposition your core by his aching cock.

“seems like you deserve a little reward,” you whisper when you finally break the kiss for air, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips, and your tongue pokes out to lick it off of his mouth, a sight so lewd yet so beautiful that he begins to think he’s dreaming.

a whimper escapes him before he can stop it, but what use does dignity have anyways when your warm cunt is grinding against his erection? the tip of his cock catches on your clit deliciously with every sway of your hips, and perhaps he’s still sensitive from the relentless play session earlier, his breaths quickly become heavy pants as you grind into him, coating his length in your slick.

and then he begs.

his words so dirty that they become a sin, one that the gods could never hear of. forget the seven or the dragon sovereign, all he can think about is to be snugly inside you and feeling your walls milk out every last drop of him. despite being rendered powerless by something as trivial as (human) handcuffs - what a shame - the primal desires in him still wants to breed you. to mark your insides and claim it as his.

a high pitched noise escapes him when you finally end the teasing and lower yourself onto him, your wetness making a small squelch as you sink into his length, moaning out from feeling so utterly full. neuvillette is not much clearer headed, the tight squeeze of your pussy around his abused cock threatens to make him cum right there, before you even start moving.

luckily for him, you have grown desperate from all the teasing too, looking to chase the remnants of your high. you lift your hips up before slamming back down onto him, the tip of his cock reaching the most delicious places inside you. you waste no time in picking up the pace, your tits bouncing with the rhythm of your hips that all he wants is to reach out and hold them, pinch your pink nipples between his fingers and feel the perfect weight of your breasts in his palms.

if only he could touch you. even in your desperate chase for another high you don’t forget to praise him, muttering dirty words about how big he is and how good he’s making you feel. still you show no sign of freeing him from his restraints anytime soon, no matter how many pleases he whispers in between moans.

he is so helpless under you, the sight of it filling you with so much satisfaction that you can't help but want to draw out his orgasm despite feeling so close yourself. his tip twitches inside you and you lift your hips up, the emptiness soon replaced by smugness when you notice the tears pricking his lash line, a visual proof of

and it rains outside. raindrops like translucent whispers tapping against the windowpane with a rhythmic cadence, the sound barely audible above the heavy pants and mumbled pleas next to your ear. the tip of his cock is an angry red and your lover is reduced to a blabbering mess as he strains against the handcuffs, toned muscles flexing and his porcelain skin flushes with heat, drops of drool at the corner of his downturned lips as he pleads for mercy.

"you've been so good for me," you press a kiss to his lips and taste him on your tongue, salty and sweet and dizzying.

the metal clinks as it falls to the floor, and before you know it his hands are on you like a man starved. you squeal in surprise when he wastes no time in lowering you onto him again and thrusting into you with renewed fervour, reaching so deep into you that you are seeing stars with every delicious drag of his cock in your walls.

the drizzle slows as the clouds stop their weeping, puddles on the pavement being the only evidence of the earlier downpour. neuvillette is finally granted his release and paints your insides white after what felt like hours of torment. you collapse on top of him, legs quivering from your own high, and neither of you says a single word as your breathing slows to normal.

"you think they'd need an umbrella again anytime soon?"

m.list | neuvillette m.list | inbox requests open!

#luna writes ☽#genshin impact #genshin smut #neuvillette smut #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader

360 notes · View notes

cheriepits · 1 year

Text

cold coffee | Roommate!Vash

ao3. part 1. don’t try to run, honey. [part 2, 3a, 3b.]

Vash runs through the entrance of the coffee shop to meet you, fifteen minutes late. He apologizes with a smile and a laugh, shrugging off his backpack and heavy coat to sit across from you. You notice all too well the way his cheeks flush from his haste, the white of his teeth, and sheepish baby blues underneath his tinted glasses.

You like him immediately.

He says he’s a third-year med student, starting in the fall. He has a car, but prefers to bike. An early bird by necessity. He’s quiet, he says, and has a few friends he’d like to have over once in a while.

You ask if he has any hobbies.

“Play any instruments?”

“The piano,” he grins, moving the fingers of his metal hand.

You think they look just as elegant as the ones on his left, thrumming blood.

Roommate!Vash who carries an 8-foot fiddle-leaf tree through the door during move-in day. “His name’s Arno,” he offers helpfully, skirting around you and the to-go breakfast in your hands, “he’s five.”

Maybe it’s the morning and the grogginess you still need to shake off before work, but you appreciate it immediately—the scent that clings to his skin; the same skin that shifts beneath his shirt. Broad shoulders, tapered waist, coupled with the lingering smell of marine—a hint of sun on sand.

He carries it to the end of the room where the sun hits most, carefully setting it down on the corner next to the basket of blankets.

“This alright?” He looks up at you with parted lips, bangs falling over his face. You let the feeling of fierce tenderness wash over you. “Mhmm,” you hum over a spoonful of yogurt, pausing before adding “thank you,” voice as thick as honey.

Roommate!Vash who invites you to a bar with his friends one Friday afternoon.

“This is Wolfwood.” Already, you recognize the playfulness in his tone. “He’s a divinity student. Not that there’s anything remotely pious about hi—ow! Hey, hey!” He blocks Nicholas’ next punch to his shoulder, bumping against you in the process. You can feel his laugh from where you’re joined, and you find that you don’t mind it in the slightest.

“This is Meryl,” he says next. “She’s one of the best journalists out there.” Vash wraps an arm around her, cooing at her blushing face. “She even found me in a tricky situation once…”

“All bound up,” Wolfwood adds, smirking in your direction.

“Oh shush,” Meryl finally speaks. “Are we going to keep standing here or are we taking shots?”

Roommate!Vash who pulls you to the dance floor when Shania Twain comes along, lip syncing all too well to I’m Gonna Getcha Good.

“Do you know how to swing dance?” he shouts over the music.

“To wha—”

He repeats himself and you motion no fervently with your head.

“It’s okay,” he teases, a lilt in his voice, “we can fuck it up.”

He takes both of your hands in his and leads the way, turning you this way and that, bringing you close to some kind of half-waltz before pulling away again, light on his feet. You have your head thrown back in laughter, watching the twin smile on his face.

Roommate!Vash who lets you borrow his sweater on the car ride back. You’re half-asleep by the time you’re saying your goodbyes to Meryl and Wolfwood, letting Vash guide you from the small of your back. He moves away when you get in the cab, and a part of you immediately resists, sounding out a noise of dissent before planting yourself on his side.

“Comfy,” you assert stubbornly. “Here…nice…” you yawn once before falling asleep.

Roommate!Vash who tries to check in with you as he tucks you into your bed.

“Hey, I’m going to leave a glass of water here, alright? You did so good today, you baby giraffe,” he stifles a laugh at his own joke, wishing that in some way you’ll remember this.

“Goodnight,” he whispers finally.

Roommate!Vash who nearly loses it when you walk out later that afternoon wearing only borrowed clothing from the night before, the hem resting high on your thighs. With a tight grip on the bottom, you begin lifting—

His eyes bug out and he jumps from his seat to stop you until he finally catches a peak of the small shorts on your body. He is both disappointed and relieved.

“Here. Thank you.” You throw the fabric unceremoniously at his stunned face before heading back to your room. You try not to slam the door out of nervousness.

Shit, you think.

Roommate!Vash who brings his sweater to his face, catching the undeniable hint of you and thinks, shit.

328 notes · View notes

lady-lunaaa · 7 months

Text

"just say you want me"

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x f!reader

Rating: MATURE, minors dni

Warnings: idiots/rivals to lovers that's literally it (oh and this is set during the Arabasta Arc because that's where I am in the anime k cool)

WC: 2.1K

Thank you to my beloved @gixxie for this request, I AM OBSESSED WITH IT. It's like twice the length it was supposed to be, oops. This idiot has my heart + soul, wanna bicker with him every day till death do us part 💚

You were currently crouched behind some barrels in the dirt in the middle of Nanohana's marketplace. It was as hot as Satan's asshole in Arabasta, not helped by the overcrowded streets and local delicacies being cooked over open flames at various stalls. Not even the obscenely skimpy dancer outfit Sanji picked out for you could placate the devilish heat. You hated it here. And you hated the one crew member you happened to be stuck with.

It was his fault you were hunched over supplies of what could only be perfume, the sickeningly sweet scent causing an ache to form between your brows, hiding from a couple of Marines - a woman carrying a sword and some newbie in full uniform. Zoro always managed to make your life more difficult. And more irritating. Somehow you always got stuck with the agitated swordsman. To the disgust of you both.

You peeked over Zoro's shoulder as he peered out from your hiding place to watch the woman converse with a local, no doubt asking if they had seen your pirate Captain or any of his crew. He looked panicked and very uncomfortable, brows pinching in the middle of his forehead, the longer he watched the interaction.

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics and couldn't help the scorn that slipped past your lips. "Unbelievable. Scared of a pretty little Marine."

Zoro flinched at your voice as if he hadn't realised you were so close and turned to you with a scowl, "I'm not scared, and she's tougher than she looks." He mumbled the last part, eyes flicking back to the blue-haired woman. You had no idea who she was but clearly Zoro did. And knowing him he probably pissed her off to some degree, if his cowering was anything to go by.

Nothing ever went simply for your crew...as if facing off against Crocodile wasn't a daunting enough task. The Marines just had to follow you here and get involved.

"Nawhh, does Zoro have a crush?" You put on your best simpering voice, pouting at your crew mate and making kissy noises. You doubted he actually did, the oaf was always too busy trying to be the world's greatest swordsman to ever entangle himself in romantic feelings (something that made you feel horribly relieved), but your words had their desired intention. Zoro's face grew red with anger as he clenched his jaw to hold back the tirade of insults you knew he wanted to spew at you.

"Shut. Up." He growled at you, a warning in his tone. You'd both been at it all day, bickering back and forth over nothing, the heat prickling at your waning patience. The two of you were even more impossible to be around than usual that even Sanji had made a comment to you about laying off Zoro. And he never defended his green-haired nemesis. It had been very disturbing, indeed.

You just smirked at him, wholly unaffected by the underlying threat simmering in his gaze. "Who knew the greatest swordsman in the world" - you put heavy sarcasm into the title making Zoro bristle further - "could be so shy? Maybe I'll call her ov-"

Just as you pushed yourself to your feet and raised a hand- you were yanked back down again. Your head narrowly missed the metal edge of the barrel and you hissed at your companion, rage bubbling in your gut.

"Idiot!" Zoro seethed, his grip around your wrist tighter than it needed to be, but you wouldn't let him know that. "If she's here, then Smoker isn't far behind."

Oh, you definitely pushed too far this time. Zoro looked as if he was about to throttle you. Good. Now he knew how it felt being around him all day every day.

"Pussy," you scoffed, wrenching your wrist from his fingers with a sniff.

"You're so fucking annoying, yaknow that?" He sighed, dropping his hand to rest on his sword's pommel. Clearly, you'd won this round. The old-man-at-heart had run out of steam. The thought made you immeasurably proud.

"The great Roronoa Zoro finally too afraid for a battle," your tone was light and voice low, testing the waters of his patience. He was faced away from you again, checking the situation in the street, but he stiffened at your persistence - the grip on his swords was so tight that his knuckles turned white.

You decided to be less of a brat and give him an inch. Only one though.

"Besides, you could beat him easy. Don't see why we have to hide." Your voice sounded petulant, like a child's, to your own ears. But the words seemed to breathe new life into your crew mate.

He glanced back at you from the corner of his eye, gaze flicking over your face for a second too long, before he trained it on the Marines once more. "I must be hallucinating because that almost sounded like a compliment."

It was your turn to tell him to shut up. The ghost of a grin pulled at his lips hearing the embarrassment in your voice.

"Shit!" Your quiet sulking was dashed with the panic in his voice. He scrambled backwards further behind the obstructing barrel pulling you with him.

"Fuck, what?!" You shot at him irritatedly, doing your best not to land on your ass in the dust.

"They're coming this way!" He whisper-shouted at you, dark eyes wide as he reached to pull one of his swords from its sheath at his side.

This was bad. All teasing aside, it was a smart choice to stay hidden and out of the Marines' way until you made it back to the ship (hopefully, with your Captain in tow sooner rather than later) -- as Luffy once told you, not everything can be solved with violence. And you were too darn hot to be engaging in battle right now. The crisp sea breeze aboard the Merry was calling to you.

The Marine didn't know your face, most people didn't, for despite your earlier protests at hiding you preferred to fight from the shadows (you were the ship's assassin of sorts). She only knew Zoro's. And since his most prominent feature was hidden behind a large hood all you had to do was make sure she couldn't see his face. So you did the only thing you could think to do.

You pulled Zoro up by his shirt and backed him against the nearest building behind you. He let out a strained 'oof!' as he hit the limestone wall. You didn't give him a chance to protest before you were pressing yourself into his front and smashing your mouth against his.

Zoro went rigid at the action, his shock evident in the way his hands shot up to grip your shoulders, holding your body a hair's breadth away from his despite the hand fisted in his shirt and your lips mushed against his. He could have pushed you away entirely if he wanted to but he knew what you were doing.

You could hear the Marines behind you questioning another citizen. You moved your mouth against his clumsily, trying to communicate through touch that he needed to look less like he was being attacked, and more like he actually wanted this. You cupped the back of his neck with your free hand and traced your fingers over his skin in an oddly comforting gesture to loosen him up.

Zoro hesitantly kissed you back, lips moulding to your own, as the tension left his posture and he relaxed into you slowly. You hummed into his mouth as his calloused hands slid from your shoulders and came to rest on your hips. His hands were so hot against your bare skin that it was chilling. Sweat trickled down your spine as your whole body flushed in response to his touch.

It felt nice. Too nice. And clearly Zoro agreed because he deepened the kiss, nose bumping yours as he changed the angle, exploratory tongue flitting out to request permission. You wanted to protest, push him away, but instead your lips parted instinctually. Obediently. You felt him smile against your mouth, and it made your stomach flip, heat pooling between your legs.

You felt as if you were swimming underwater, the sounds and sensations of the world around you muffled and far off. All you could feel and taste was Zoro. Instead of shoving at his chest you gripped his shirt tighter, so tight that you couldn't feel your fingers, grounding yourself so you didn't get completely lost in him.

His face was warm and his lips surprisingly soft, in harsh contrast to his rough hands pawing at your waist. You weren't a small woman but he still dwarfed you in size -- his frame curled around you as he dipped to better accommodate you against him. It was a soft gesture that made you feel giddier than it should.

He tasted like sea salt and ale. You inhaled his earthy signature of spices and sandalwood, the scent clinging to the inside of your lungs.

Your consciousness bubbled to the surface as a loud crash sounded behind you, your ears ringing harshly as you re-entered reality. The realisation of your predicament and the current position you were in slowly sank into your brain and you pulled gently against the hands holding you.

When Zoro failed to let you go you sank your teeth into his bottom lip, the man cursing you loudly as he reared back and away from you, bumping his head against the wall behind him in the process. You held in a laugh, placing your hand flat against his chest, and smoothing out the wrinkled fabric you had clenched so tightly only seconds before.

You shook your head at him slowly and turned your face to the side to surreptitiously check your rear. Zoro stilled in place as it dawned on him that you were supposed to be stealthy, his long fingers flexing against your bare skin where he still held your waist, keeping you flush against him. Thank fuck your remaining crew mates hadn't been here to see your little show, they'd never let you live it down.

You slumped in relief as your eyes confirmed that the Marines had moved on -- your plan worked. You turned around to smugly announce your victory only to find yourself chest to chest and almost nose to nose with Zoro. Your hand was still pressed against his sternum right over his wildly thumping heart. You flushed, your cheeks heating despite your wishes, as you blinked up at him.

The irritation that had been twisting his face only moments before morphed into a cocky smirk. His arms were still around your waist and he took the opportunity to fondle the tie at your waist that held your skirt up with a thumb and forefinger. You tensed, unprepared for the familiarity of the action. Your thighs clenched together involuntarily seeking friction.

This was the closest you'd ever been to Zoro minus your sparring sessions. But this felt very different than when you were trying to knock him on his ass.

"What the fuck was that?" He asked gruffly, his voice lower and thicker than usual. You admired his lips as he spoke, kiss-swollen and flushed a pretty pink.

You forced your eyes to look anywhere but at his face, worried your staring would betray your internal feelings.

"I-" Any snarky comments died in your throat, because honestly you were as curious as he was. "I don't know," you mumbled, staring hard at the rings decorating your fingers as they lay splayed against his chest.

You sucked in a breath as he crowded your space this time.

"Well, they say the second time's the charm." Zoro mumbled against your cheek, his nose brushing your temple. You swallowed thickly and tried hard to work a scowl onto your face as you pulled away to look up at him.

"Pretty sure it's third time's the charm, dumbass," you sassed with a roll of your eyes . He was such an idiot. You ignored the thought that flitted through your mind that it was sort of endearing.

It wasn't until you finally looked at his expression that you realised the implication your words held and you gulped, blinking up at him rapidly, heart rate skyrocketing.

His shit-eating grin widened, all white teeth and tanned dimples. You didn't even have the energy to be mad about it because he was so stupidly gorgeous when he smiled. If it wasn't for the ruddy hue working its way onto his cheeks you'd be self conscious about your own obvious attraction to him. He let out a puff of air as he looked into your eyes, his breath fanning across your lips and making you shiver in his hold.

He was close again, so close his lips brushed your own when he spoke, "Just say you want me."

#zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #zoro fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #op fanfic #my fic #just say you want me #🌜luna writes🌛

81 notes · View notes

ms--lobotomy · 1 day

Note

How do you think the other primarchs would react to say konrad, mortarion, or peterturabo getting a significant other before everyone else

Hi! I did a poll to decide who to write for, and Konrad won fair and square! I'll write Mothman someday I promise Here's your food.

Summary: Horus and Fulgrim come into contact with Konrad's new partner.

Content Warnings: Fulgrim existing except Horus is more annoying because I like to write him as kind of a dick, uncomfortable social situation, Konrad is also a bit of a silly billy because I am unwell

Image Credit: @squishyowl

You'd been wandering the Imperial Palace for hours now. You'd tried to backtrack a few times, but it had never worked. This wing was a lot more refined than what you were used to, with gold tastefully added in where it accentuated a particular piece. You reached out your hand to touch one of the ornate picture frames, you couldn't help yourself. The metal was smooth underneath your fingers, cold to the touch.

You heard their footsteps before you heard anything else, a pair of them. They were far too heavy to be that of baseline humans, or even space marines. You ran towards the noise, ignoring their idle chatter. If Konrad wasn't in the mix, they could at least give you directions back to his wing of the palace.

"Hello?" you asked, dashing around the corner.

You recognized the violet armor of the one on your left first. Fulgrim. You took a step back without thinking about it. You knew he was closer with Konrad than many of the others, but there was something about his presence that was unnerving. Almost as if he was too perfect. To the right was none other than Horus Lupercal, arguably the most important of his brothers with his fancy Warmaster title. He sported clean teal armor and stood slightly taller than his brother.

Fulgrim spoke up first. "Ah... you're my brother's partner," he remarked. He stepped up slightly closer to you, and you backed away.

"It's strange," said Horus. "I never expected him to be the first of us to get a partner, but here we are. How is he treating you?" He stepped up to come side-to-side with his brother again.

"Oh," you said, shuffling your feet. "I mean, I think it's pretty nice?" you asked. "He's--"

Horus cut you off with a chuckle. "Imagine that," he said, turning to his brother. "What do you think, Fulgrim?"

"I think..." he said, putting a finger to his lips and looking down. "I think that we should let the little one get a word in, don't you think?"

Little one? "Sure thing," said Horus. He looked down at you expectantly.

"I..." you started. Sure, they were around twice your size, but did that give them the right to... it was too much effort to contest it. It was probably best to just head back on your own. "I guess he sometimes just pops up out of nowhere, uh... I just wanted to know how to get back to his wing, honestly." You turned around to retrace your steps yet again.

Horus stepped in front of you. You looked behind you, and Fulgrim had that pleasant smile on his face that almost never left.

"We haven't seen you in person yet," remarked Horus. "Why don't you stay and talk for a little? I'm quite curious to know how our brother is as a partner," he said.

"Uhm..." you started, looking to the side. I can tell, you thought to yourself, though you wouldn't dare vocalize it. "I... he..." you started, sinking back into yourself. You felt your face go warm, and you fiddled with your hands. Horus looked down at you expectantly, a dickish smirk on his face.

You heard your name from a familiar voice. You snapped your head around to see none other than Konrad, hastily adjusting his armor. "You got lost," he said. You nodded, closing your eyes. "I see you've met my brothers?"

"Your partner is a delight to talk to," said Horus. "They should stay on Terra a while, I'd like to get to know them."

"I think they'd like to go," he said curtly. Horus stepped out of the way, and Konrad grabbed your wrist. You felt Fulgrim's stare at the back of your head, slightly bemused. "Isn't that right?"

"Very well," said Horus. "Talk to you later, I should hope?"

#warhammer 40k x reader #konrad curze x reader #primarch x reader #reader insert #konrad curze #warhammer lobotomy #i dont know what this is but we ball #i forgot how to write anything that isnt porb please forgive me

48 notes · View notes

neonpaperlanterns · 1 year

Text

Share this Burden Chapter One

Chapter One: An Insidious Thing

[Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five]

Ume felt dazed as she stared at the damp cave wall. Harsh whispers pricked along her mind. Thrumming emotions that didn’t belong to her slithered along her own. People were upset, there was something simmering in the air. She blinked slowly as she leaned against the rough stone. Her eyes traced along the cracked wall, water trickled through the grooves. There was a dark puddle forming.

Drip

It was cold, her skin felt numb. Her clothes hung limply from her body. They were dirty, she was dirty. Grim clung and coated every inch of her. They felt disgust when they looked at her. She just felt cold.

The puddle was getting bigger.

Drip

The chains around her wrists are heavy and chaffed along the thin skin. They looked angry and red. Blood welled sluggishly from the raw flesh. The color looked so vibrant and alive. Looking at it told her that she was still alive.

Ume was still alive.

The puddle grows closer.

Drip

The guard changed. This one was young, he wanted to talk to her. His voice dripped poisoned honey. He wanted her to get closer.

“Come by the bars.” he says.

“You have nothing to fear.” he promises.

“I just want to help you. Let me help you.” he lies.

Ume hates this game. She isn’t stupid, when he says he is different it’s a sad ploy. They all want her to get closer, all want her in arms reach. They want an excuse. But she isn’t stupid. She doesn’t move not anymore. Not even food convinces her to move. It isn’t worth it. Their intentions reach her mind but their words fall on deaf ears.

The puddle engulfs her feet now.

Drip

In the beginning she had trouble sleeping. It hurt too much, she was too scared, it had been too cold. Everytime her eyes closed the screaming voices of her captors invaded her subconscious. They wanted to say so much. They felt so much that they kept in that it was drowning Ume.

She used to dream but now it was clogged with the thoughts of those around her. It made her desperate for any form of reprieve. It made her want to die.

The puddle was murky.

She couldn’t see through the clouded water.

Her lungs were burning.

Drip

BOOM

Hope was an insidious thing. It was painful. It was taunting. It was pitiful. Ume had lost it once and has felt others lose it too. It was something that was best left lost. But as the world came crashing down around her she couldn’t help but feel that wonderful terrible thing stir in her chest. It moved her forward as her guard sprung to his feet. His eyes held panic as the sound of gunfire rolled down the cave.

“MARINES!” The shout bounced and echoed across the walls.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. One moment her captor was reaching for the gun at his hip, the next he was splayed on the ground. The eruption of pain that overcame her was fleeting. Blood poured from the hole in his head. The sound of clashing metal became background noise as she looked at the man. Hope was terrible. It was pointless. Yet as her gaze darted along the corpse she spotted something.

A key.

Ume did not give a second thought to shoving her arm through the gapes in the bars. She didn’t give a second thought to the body slowly getting colder as she forced her shaking hands to still. She didn’t give a second thought as she pushed her prison’s door open. Her legs shook as she took her first steps towards the outside. She could hear men screaming. It scratched along the walls and wiggled around behind her eyes. Blood was running down the sloping floor. It made the ground wet and her feet sticky. She didn’t give it a second thought.

Ume’s stomach plummeted as when she rounded the bend another body dropped in front of her. This one wasn’t dead though.

But he was dying.

A knife protruded from the Marine’s stomach as they made eye contact. He looked scared. He was scared. Terrified. Fear clung to the air, made it heavy.

“Are you trying to run?” a voice sounded in front of her. Dark eyes darted upwards as her gaze landed on a pirate. He didn’t look familiar but none of them did. Their feelings bled together. Their faces blurred. Same faces, same feelings. The one advancing on her now was just another face. She wanted to run, to scream. She wanted to do something but instead she simply froze. If she didn’t fight back it hurt less.

BANG

Ume jumped at the sudden sound. The pirate toppled over as the downed Marine let out a pained whimper. His left hand was clutching at his middle as his right was outstretched holding a still smoking gun. Tears rolled down his face as blood slowly dripped down his chin.

He was scared.

But proud.

“Go.” his voice came out as a choked gurgle. Ume knew that if she let it, guilt would nestle in her mind. He had helped her, saved her and now he was telling her to leave him. And she did. She refused to give leaving the dying man a second thought. Stumbling her way out of the cave she was met with even more carnage. People were shouting and gunshots were ringing through the air.

For a moment everything stilled.

The night sky was clear.

Vibrant stars lit up the dark sky.

Ume had hoped, as fruitless as that was, that if she ever escaped it would have been day. But she would take this.

Sudden burning pain erupted from her leg as she fell to the ground. A scream ripped apart her throat. The feeling was blinding and her breathing was getting shallow. Her vision was filled with dull brown dirt. The stone under her palms was hot and jagged. She couldn’t see the sky anymore. Just dull brown dirt. Something vile and vicious bloomed in her chest.

No.

If she was going to bleed out, it wasn’t going to be here. She was not going to die on this blood soaked dirt. Crawling was agony but worth it. Rough ground turned to plush grass and the sounds of violence lessened. She found herself in a small clearing as the wind danced through the trees. Ume forced her body into a kneeling position. Her left leg was steadily going numb and her vision was swimming. Tilting her head up she looked up at the night sky.

“Come here to pray, pirate scum?”

An unkind voice growled behind her. There was a heat at her back that after being cold for so long she thought she would welcome it. Instead it just hurt. Ume said nothing as she continued to look at the stars. She could feel the mounting anger from the man. Her eyes slipped shut as she heard him getting closer. He was looming over her. The boiling rage trying to peel her skin away. She would not look at him. She had no interest in seeing her executioner. If she was going to die then she wanted her last memory to be of something beautiful.

Sakazuki felt his lip curl over his teeth as he was ignored. His fist raised as he rounded on the pirate. He wanted to see the face of the man who dared dismiss him before he put him out of his misery. Though when he came to face the kneeling figure his breath caught in his throat. He had expected to meet a defiant gaze. One that was truly unaware of what was to come. Yet that is not what he got. Instead he looked upon the serene face of a young woman. Her hands were clasped in front of her chest and her head was tilted towards the sky. Her eyes were closed as she kneeled there. His gaze traveled downwards as he took in her battered appearance. Heavy looking shackles hung from damaged wrists as a violent wave of disgust washed over him.

None of these pirates were going to Impel Down.

Kneeling down to her level, Sakazuki grabbed at her chin. Her eyes fluttered open and he was struck with the image of a collapsing star. For a moment he could do nothing but stare. But then her gaze was shifting away and he was filled with the urge to force it back on him.

‘Look at me!’ his mind screamed. She needed to look at him again.

Ume blinked slowly up at the Marine. He wasn’t doing anything, just staring at her. His hand held her face loosely as he simply looked at her. She didn’t know what he was feeling. Couldn’t focus enough to see but he was going to kill her, right?

Why wasn’t he doing it already?

Why was he making her wait?

“If you’re going to kill me, please get on with it.” Her speaking seemed to break him out of whatever trance he was in. His previously dazed look turned into something sharper. His lips turned downward as his back straightened.

“I’m not.” he paused. “Can you walk?” she glanced down at her leg, blood oozed sluggishly from the wound. She couldn’t feel anything let alone stand anymore. She shook her head no and watched as his face hardened. His jaw twitched as he carefully picked her up. He seemed to struggle as he held her. She could feel the muscles in his arms bunching as he brought her closer and then seemed to hesitate. He was conflicted, that much she could discern as he walked towards the beach.

Ume glanced around the island. Bodies littered the ground as the Marines lined up the remaining pirates. She felt his grip tighten around her. It was warm and overbearing but also in a strange way she felt safe. Or maybe not safe but it gave the feeling that she made it out. Her eyelids were heavy as she tried to keep them open.

“Rest.” His voice was quiet and hard. The single word said in a way that left no room for argument. This was an order. She felt her mind seeth but her body relented. The sooner she closed her eyes the sooner she would open them again.

Sakazuki furrowed his brow as he watched the girl drift off into a fitful sleep. Her forehead was creased and her mouth was set in a grimace. Quickly he made his way onto his ship and rushed towards the med bay. Officers jumped out of his way as he restrained from yelling at the nurse.

“Sir?” The doctor straightened his back and saluted Sakazuki.

“Take care of her.” reluctantly he shoved the women into the other man’s arms. Something in his chest burned as he watched the doctor rush away with her. He wanted to take her back. Hide her away. He had to leave before he did something unfounded. Stiffly he left the med bay, his legs carrying him back off the ship.

“Vice Admiral Akainu sir, the prisoners are sec-” He held up his hand, silencing the younger officer. The other man went rigid as Sakazuki glared at the shackled pirates.

“We aren’t taking prisoners today.”

#one piece #one piece akainu #akainu sakazuki #akainu x oc #original female character #a man dies

18 notes · View notes

chainsxwsmile · 9 months

Text

@heylinhenchman liked for a Cetus!Bruce starter

One might reasonably assume that the raucous of heavy metal music would be far too overstimulating for even the more fantastical wildlife such as a Cetus. Oddly enough, one would be mistaken. The thrashing chords and steady drumbeats mimicked the vibrations of injured fish, and consequently attracted sharks and their respective species mimics and shiver guardians-- the Cetea.

Even if Bruce had long forsaken the Hunt, and mistook no such noise as an injured marine resident --especially when emitted from a portable speaker far from any sources of water-- an instinctual side of the Cetus found the feeling of the music familiar and consequently soothing, even if he hadn't heard any of the songs before.

Bruce's human companion kept their hands in constant motion; scarred digits flit about, quickly soldering the detached wires of the circuit boards strung out of the robot's torso like intestines spilled from a gut. Though considerably cleaner. Despite Bruce spending more time with Jack, he hadn't quite adapted to some human-centric societal standards. Especially such as not staring. Even so, watching Jack hyper-focused on engineering repair had its own soothing effect. Balancing on a thin line between chaotic and checklist procedural, Jack attended to the random sparks that surged at every dent and divot in the robot's armor shell.

"Who's the one who dinged up this fella?" Bruce asked, finally speaking up after a few good minutes once Jack's hands ceased their repairing and constant movement.

#heylinhenchman #verse: Cetus #shark dad au

4 notes · View notes

torillatavataan · 2 years

Photo

On Wednesday 28 September 1994, cruiseferry MS Estonia sank to the Baltic Sea, taking with her 852 of her 989 passengers and crew

The sinking was one of the worst maritime disasters of the 20th century. It is one of the deadliest peacetime sinkings of a European ship, after the RMS Titanic in 1912 and the RMS Empress of Ireland in 1914, and the deadliest peacetime shipwreck to have occurred in European waters. The disaster had a major impact on ferry safety, leading to changes in safety regulations as well as in life-raft design.

Estonia departed from Tallinn, Estonia, slightly behind schedule at 19:15 on 27 September and had been expected in Stockholm, Sweden, the next morning at about 09:00. She was carrying 803 passengers and 186 crew.

According to the final disaster report, the weather was rough. Esa Mäkelä, the captain of Silja Europa who was appointed on-scene commander for the subsequent rescue effort, described the weather as “normally bad”, or like a typical autumn storm in the Baltic Sea. All scheduled passenger ferries were at sea, something not unusual for this weather in the Baltic Sea.

The first sign of trouble aboard Estonia was when a metallic bang was heard, presumably caused by a heavy wave hitting the bow doors around 01:00, when the ship was on the outskirts of the Turku archipelago, but an inspection—limited to checking the indicator lights for the ramp and visor—showed no problems. Over the next 10 minutes, similar noises were reported by passengers and other crew. At about 01:15, the visor is believed to have separated and torn open the loading ramp behind it. The ship immediately took on a heavy starboard list (initially around 15 degrees, but by 01:30, the ship had rolled 60 degrees and by 01:50 the list was 90 degrees) as water flooded into the vehicle deck. Estonia was turned to port and slowed before her four engines cut out completely.

The vessel’s rapid list and the flooding prevented many people in the cabins from ascending to the boat deck, as water not only flooded the vessel via the car deck, but also through windows in cabins as well as the massive windows along deck 6. The windows gave way to the powerful waves as the ship listed and the sea reached the upper decks. Survivors reported that water flowed down from ceiling panels, stairwells and along corridors from decks that were not yet under water.

A mayday was communicated by the ship’s crew at 01:22, but did not follow international formats. Estonia directed a call to Silja Europa and only after making contact with her did the radio operator utter the word “Mayday”. The radio operator on Silja Europa, chief mate Teijo Seppelin, replied in English: “Estonia, are you calling Mayday?” After that, the voice of third mate Andres Tammes took over on Estonia and the conversation shifted to Finnish.

youtube

Full 30 minute recording of communications with English subtitles here. Four languages are used, mainly Swedish and Finnish.

Tammes was able to provide some details about their situation but, due to a loss of power, he could not give their position, which delayed rescue operations somewhat. Tammes would later die in the sinking. Some minutes later, power returned (or somebody on the bridge managed to lower him or herself to the starboard side of the bridge to check the marine GPS, which will display the ship's position even in blackout conditions), and the Estonia was able to radio its position to Silja Europa and Mariella. The ship disappeared from the radar screens of other ships at around 01:50, and sank in international waters, about 22 nmi (41 km) on bearing 157° from Utö island, Finland, to a depth of 74 to 85 m (245 to 280 ft) of water.

Mariella, the first of five ferries to reach the scene of the accident, arrived at 02:12. A full-scale emergency was only declared at 02:30. Mariella winched open liferafts into the sea onto which 13 people on Estonia’s rafts successfully transferred, and reported the location of other rafts to Swedish and Finnish rescue helicopters, the first of which arrived at 03:05. The former took survivors to shore, while the latter—Finnish border guard helicopters Super Puma OH-HVG and Agusta Bell 412 OH-HVD—chose the riskier option of landing on the ferries. The pilot of OH-HVG stated that landing on the ferries was the most difficult part of the whole rescue operation; despite that, this single helicopter rescued 44 people, more than all the ferries. MS Isabella saved 16 survivors with its rescue slide.

Rescue efforts on Utö island

Of the 989 on board, 138 were rescued, one of whom died later in hospital. Ships rescued 34 and helicopters 104; the ferries played a much smaller part than the planners had intended because it was too dangerous to launch their man-overboard (MOB) boats or lifeboats.

Estonia’s life-raft. Many died as cold water poured into the rafts or as they capsized.

In total, 94 bodies were recovered: 93 within 33 days of the accident, and the last victim was found 18 months later. By the time the rescue helicopters arrived, around a third of those who escaped from the Estonia had died by drowning and hypothermia, as the water temperature was 10–11°C (50–52°F). Most victims were Swedish and Estonian nationals.

Recovered bodies to be moved from Utö to Turku on 29 September 1994

The survivors of the shipwreck were mostly young males with strong constitutions. Seven over 55 years of age survived and there were no survivors under age 12. About 650 people were still inside the ship when it sank. The commission estimated that up to 310 passengers reached the outer decks, 160 of whom boarded the life-rafts or lifeboats.

The official investigation report indicated that the locks on the bow door had failed from the strain of the waves and the door had separated from the rest of the vessel, pulling the ramp behind it ajar. The bow visor and ramp had been torn off at points that would not trigger an “open” or “unlatched” warning on the bridge, as is the case in normal operation or failure of the latches. The bridge was also situated too far back on the ferry for the visor to be seen from there.

The first metallic bang was believed to have been the sound of the visor’s lower locking mechanism failing, and that the subsequent noises would have been from the visor “flapping” against the hull as the other locks failed, before tearing free and exposing the bow ramp. The subsequent failure of the bow ramp allowed water into the vehicle deck, which was identified as the main cause of the capsizing and sinking.

Estonia’s bow visor in Hanko (Finland) on 19 November 1994

Conspiracy theories exist about the cause of the sinking. Theories revolve around deliberate sabotage, smuggling of military hardware (later confirmed by the Swedish government, but allegedly not on the night of the disaster), and alleged sightings of military vehicles and crew members among the survivors that were later confirmed dead, as well as the general rapid rate of sinking (less than an hour). The decision to not recover any bodies, cover the wreck with concrete (this idea was abandoned), and prohibit citizens from even approaching the wreck have added fuel to the theories. Some survivors and loved ones of the victims support the conspiracy theories.

A previously unreported 4-metre hole on the hull was discovered in 2020 by a documentary crew, prompting the reopening of the investigation.

Wikipedia Photos from this MTV article and this Ilta-Sanomat article detailing the stories of the 137 survivors

#ms estonia #sweden #estonia #sverige #eesti #finland #suomi #*

18 notes · View notes

biomecharnotaurus · 2 years

Note

What types of music does everyone like to listen to?

Flynn: mostly metal, rock, classical, opera, jazz. Subgenres included, not really something particularly specific (however, I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire by The Ink Spots is one of his favorite songs ever)

Stan: punk rock, rock in general, nothing particularly too heavy however. Definitely listens to Green Day in the year 2023

Arlene: punk rock, rock in general, any very heavy subgenre of metal, deathstep, metalstep, the most atrocious noises a machine created by human hands can produce

Ranger:.....he is the punk NIN marine granpa do I need to go in to details

#not going in to too many details with subgenres n shit because I'll probably end up missing something anyway BUT HEY #Flynn Taggart #Stan Blazkowicz #Arlene Sanders #Quake Ranger #ask #anon

10 notes · View notes

e1igius · 1 year

Text

blood trickles down his arm , it is not his. it pools in his shirt , it has recolored his shirt. it weighs down his boots , it belongs to them. the bodies lay scattered throughout the room. blood splatter paints the walls. the three men lay in distorted poses , legs and arms bent in unnatural ways , exposed bones scattered throughout. eyes watch the seemingly endless stream , a single droplet at a time. leaving this place in an endless state of danger. of heightened awareness ; one he seems all too preoccupied with. heavy ragged breathing echoes throughout the empty mansion , the heavy steps of boots as he staggers forward , exhausted , smear blood as they go , dampening the noise. feral noises leave the mans mouth as he spits out an arcane mixture of blood and saliva , both of which are not uniquely his own. it's instinct that drives him , not the importance of what he has done , but the routine of it all. he needs to clean up this mess , he needs to get rid of the blood stains on the hardwood floor , the he needs to just do it. just move , just act , his body feels so heavy. how much collateral damage this time ? or were they complicit members of the crimes as well ? his brain doesn't know where to draw the line anymore. the line has long since been erased.

fingertips find their way to rake sweat out of dirty hair , leaving a trail of blood in their wake , the dark think liquid clings to soft blonde hair. and just as the man begins to relax , a strange sensation comes over him at a single noise , the door creaks downstairs. who's here ? what could anyone possibly want with an old mutant oil tycoon and his family on a wednesday night ? the marine grabs his rifle with little care , barrel scratching against the wooden floor as he slowly makes his way to the staircase , echoing in the halls and rooms as he goes like sharp notes of an untuned piano. a swift sweep down to pick up the bayonet on the floor with his free hand. when he makes it to the stairs rifle lifts into position , fixed bayonet at the end , he's tired , any trained professional can see it in his shoulders , in his eyes , but that doesn't make him any less deadly. any less trained. his position is perfectly manicured from years of practice , his sheer size is intimidating enough , his presence a top the stairs would have been a death sentance for anyone... save the dark curly hair that emerges from the darkness. eyes find eyes faster than he'd like to admit and the rifle waivers for just a moment. a distraction , a hallucination , he hadn't told her he was coming. she had no way of knowing he'd be here. how could she ? unless she'd be keeping tabs on him , unless she didn't trust him anymore.

the realization that follows causes the rifle to drop to the floor , the loud metal clang echoes in the empty mansion , sound bouncing and growing against hundred year old acoustics... she didn’t trust him. eyes that had warmed at her entrance begin to grow cold , matching the rotting interior of the person they belong to. he steps forward , unarmed , a death sentence in her presence. the rifle on the ground then , of course , remains within reach. ❝ anita... anita its me. it's huckleberry. ❞ eyes land on the weapon in her hand and a cold shiver runs down his spine , she wasn't here for his prey , she was here for the hunter. she had come for him , after years of understanding one another , like it was nothing. like he was nothing. his voice grows angry , agitated by the fact that he sees only hatred in her eyes when his own are overrrun with love and pain. ❝ put your fuckin' weapon down anita , it's just me , this ain't no fucking princess rodeo , stop playing around. ❞ a pause , eyes flicker between her expression and the executionary weapon , ❝ i dont want to hurt you. ❞ another step forward. he gets down on his knees ( the rifles closer now ) but he looks like he's begging , the way he feels he is. ❝ anita please , what's wrong ? what's happened ? let me help you. ❞ tell me what to do , so that i don't have to shoot.

@executiioner gets an anita murders huckleberry starter.

#executiioner #i love them your honor

2 notes · View notes

sharpcr-a · 1 year

Text

Muse as Disney Princesses In College

[ Repost & Bold what applies to your muse! Based on X ]

snow white: apple and cinnamon tea // clean studying spaces // instrumental covers of pop songs // needs alone study time // loves organizing study groups // mind maps and diagrams // studies with the sunrise // full night of sleep

cinderella: dressing up // social work-study sessions // a full pencil case // oversized mugs // Darjeeling tea // lives on own away from relatives // doesn’t do study groups // collaborative Google docs // tutors others // social worker.

aurora: sleeps in late // ready to go immediately // vanilla coffee // color-coordinated // pink and blue // studies out in nature // notes // lo-fi music // romantic songs from the 1950s // runs a studyblr // English literature student // fashion classes // sketches when listening to lectures.

ariel: mulls in the shower // revise and study // shower every morning // dreams of life after college // marine biology // sneaks out // smell and spray of the sea // breaks up chunks of studying // swimming in the college pool // part-time job

belle: overruns study sessions // exploring new concepts and materials that aren’t on the syllabus // pastries from the local bakery // study groups in coffee shops and cafes // practically lives in the library // never without glasses // always about the extra credit // is planning on masters and doctorate // mechanical engineering.

jasmine: google calendar // fancy stationery // immaculate handwriting // cat on feet // sweet Turkish coffee // uses pomodoro technique // TV show Breaks // Watches Netflix while studying // takes extra semester courses // business management.

pocahontas: super motivated // environmental sciences // geography // geology students // advocate for environmental change // herbal tea // covers entire tables in the library // maps and research // live study sessions on facebook live // uses recycled paper notebooks only.

mulan: listens to lectures on the phone // works out // morning run // works out difficult concepts in their head // green tea // chugs red bull when it hits midnight // library late at night // noise-cancelling headphones // power ballads and motivational jams.

tiana: hardest working student // balances work and school // waitressing // barista jobs // dark roast coffee // beignets // survives on three hours sleep // ambient beats and nineties pop // starts internship applications two months early // when exams are over sleeps and watches netflix // dreams when should be rewriting her notes // time management.

rapunzel: notes speckled with paint // sketches // psychology lectures // motivating // guitar music // lemonade // hoards books about non-major subjects // bullet journals // instagram // highlighters for everything // documents entire studying process // snapchat.

merida: heavy metal & rock music // never without massive headphones // sports as an analogy for everything // sports science // on the rooftop when things get too loud // happier when in the woods // red bull and coffee // hates studying but does really well in exams.

anna: has no formal organization method // super colorful highlighters // always hits snooze // hot chocolate with cinnamon // energizing people in study groups // whatsapp study group // theatre and performance class // broadway musicals.

elsa: doesn’t “do” study groups // but will study with friends // cold press coffee // frozen lattes // pastel highlighters // reads the textbooks from cover to cover // not just the assigned readings // leads the curve // history // environmental chemistry // Debussy and Saint-Saens.

moana: studies in the early morning // copies everything // international history // politics // loves to revisit notes // sunshine // at the beach // doesn’t do caffeine // orange juice // water // volunteers at every chance // community organizer.

5 notes

#💵 || DASH GAMES.

2 notes · View notes

tarisilmarwen · 2 years

Photo

@badthingshappenbingo

Title: “Keystone”

Prompt: Defeated and Trophified

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels

Character(s): Ezra Bridger, Emperor Sheev Palpatine/Lord Sidious, Ahsoka Tano

Warnings: Depiction of electric torture, references to past torture, strangulation, broken bones, major character death

AO3, FFNet, Request a prompt/character

Someone order some heavy-duty angst for a Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt?

Trick question, absolutely no one asked for this, my horrible gremlin mind just had the terrible thought, and then it became a marinating idea, and then when my card came back with "Defeated and Trophified" I was like, welp that's it, it's happening, I'mma write it.

This one uh... hurt. A lot. Enjoy?

---

As the turbolift descended into the bowels of the Imperial Palace, the air seemed to take on an eerie chill. There was a strange thrumming energy, something old and powerful... and dark.

The sour taste of it was like sweet liquor to Palpatine's senses and he drank it in, greedily, relishing the way it buzzed and hummed on his skin, a taste of the power that was his alone to direct and command, his alone to wield.

The lift stopped at its destination. The shaft bottomed out even further below, but the present floor was the only one with enough space hollowed out to fit his current prized possession. The doors swished open and Palpatine proceeded down the hall, hands clasped casually in his sleeves in front of him.

The end of the hall opened to a massive chamber, the ceiling disappearing into distant darkness far above. Illuminated with several freestanding floodlights was a towering body of stone. The slabs were ancient, marked with decades of wind and rain, the painted markings that climbed up their faces faded into a dull reddish-brown from age.

The great gate of the Lothal Jedi Temple. Masterfully transported all the way from the backwater Outer Rim planet it had been recovered at.

Palpatine smirked a bit to himself, still pleased at how seamless the transfer had been, how very carefully his architects had transferred the gateway into his sanctum, achingly aware of how precious every small brick was.

He proceeded into the chamber. The archway of the Temple entrance enveloped him, slowly, the walls rising up on either side of him. Even now, the gateway resisted him, crying out through the Force at his intrusion, a ringing, discordant noise in his head.

He ignored it as he came to a stop, meters away from the point that separated him from the thin veil at the end of the hall, the portal into the world between worlds and the inner structure of the Force itself.

He turned his yellow eyes up towards the top of the archway before him.

Metal was grafted to the stone above the opening, spikes dug into the rock, clinging to the surface like some kind of parasitic leech. Glowing lights hummed at its edges. It pulsed and breathed almost like a living thing, artificial heartbeats echoing through the Force. It was a fiendish device of his own design, crafted from arcane Sith alchemy, created for one purpose, and one purpose only:

To hold the limp human figure currently dangling within its restraints.

Palpatine's mouth cracked with a cruel smile, watching as the small figure stirred from its fitful rest, blinking, coming to reluctant awareness.

"Hello Bridger," came his sneering greeting, the hands inside his sleeves tightening with anticipation. "I am sorry to wake you." His voice was like a horrible mockery of grandfatherly concern, harsh and biting. "But it seems I am in need of your... services once again."

The battered, exhausted boy pinched his eyes tighter before opening them, the vibrant blues shooting a hateful, defiant glare.

Palpatine's mouth puckered in displeasure.

***

The boy kept his head up, despite everything inside him begging to fall back down.

It had been three weeks since Ezra's capture. Three weeks of pain, and torment, and despair. The scout trooper armor had been forcibly stripped off him long ago, and the thin internal bodysuit provided no protection from the kinds of horror and pain the Emperor was capable of inflicting.

He knew that. He knew he didn't have a prayer of breaking free from this horrible thing the Emperor had him strapped in, this metal monstrosity that gripped his wrists and legs in a solid durasteel grasp, held him immobile just above the doorway that continually drew energy from him, holding it half-open in an awkward limbo, siphoning the strength from him.

He hung loose and boneless in the device. Creeping electric burns crawled up his arms, stopping in spidery light splinters of scar tissue on the edges of his face. Testaments to what he had endured since falling into Palpatine's hands.

His throat had long since gone raw. He couldn't speak now, even if he wanted to. His chest ached every time he breathed. His limbs were numb and disconnected from him. Sweat had plastered his short hair, growing steadily longer as the weeks went on, to his pale forehead. He could feel the grip of the Sith sorcery moving through the rig like a constant cold presence, a shroud of dark oppressive ether, keeping him alive and aware, never allowing him to truly rest, artificially sustaining itself through his own body.

He hadn't eaten or slept in days. His face was haggard, his body thin and weak from the torture and dehydration and the device draining him to power itself.

Exhaustion was deep in every bone. His silent, impotent glare was all the fight that was left to him, all that stood between Palpatine and his ultimate victory, as the Sith Lord slowly turned himself into a physical god each time he plunged into the space between spaces, the portal only Ezra could open.

His weak show of resistance didn't even phase the man.

The malice around the Emperor seemed to grow darker and colder, almost bored. He lifted his hands from beneath the sleeves of his dark robes, and Sith Lightning sparked between his gnarled gray fingers, arcing up to pierce through Ezra.

The young Jedi gasped and gave a short, pained shriek, seizing up as electric rivulets of pure Dark Side energy sliced through him, igniting fire and ice all along his nerve endings, a white-hot agony so intense he could barely breathe.

Ezra slumped even limper in the restraints, sagging, gasping helplessly as the tingling pain rang through him, sharp and lingering and horribly familiar, eyes down at the earthen floor.

The Emperor's withering glare was a physical weight upon him.

"Your pitiful resistance grows tiresome," he spat. The look on his face was sour, full of simmering icy fury. "Open the portal, boy. Do not make me break you again."

Ezra bit back a sob, the horrible reminder of Palpatine's cruel tortures flaring fresh to his memory. It didn't matter how much he fought it. Palpatine always got his way in the end. Always inflicted just enough pain, said just the right thing, to crumple his meager defiance into dust. He could never hold out, not against the sadism and fury of the Emperor's wrath.

...But it made him feel marginally better to at least try.

"D... do what you want... to me..." he mumbled, his voice hoarse and weak, barely audible. "I... I won't let you..."

"Oh?" came the Emperor's reply, cruelly upturned. The man's malicious smirk burned through Ezra like a knife. "You won't let me?" Ezra's heart clanged with dread at the expression on the Sith's wrinkled face. "Like you did before? When you let me right in?" The sharp features twisted gleefully. "When you let me kill Ahsoka Tano?"

Ezra's eyes squeezed closed, his chest clenching with guilt. He bit his lip so hard it turned white, as his mind was turned forcefully to the past, towards the mistake the Emperor was talking about, the one terrible moment that had doomed everyone, everything. He tried not to drift off but he couldn't help it, the scene played vividly in his head like he was experiencing it all over again, his lungs squeezing with apologies and hot shame, his gaze slanting to the side.

***

He hesitated only a moment, before he acted.

Disregarding Ahsoka's warning, he reached in through the portal, towards the image of the flame-wreathed Kanan.

"Ezra, no!" Ahsoka cried, hand darting up to stop him, but too late, it was too late, his hand was inside, the surface of the portal was shimmering around his elbow.

Something latched on tightly to his wrist.

Startled, Ezra gasped, flinching back, watching with horror as the image in the portal changed from the scene atop the fuel pod, from Kanan's steadfast silhouette, to a darkened room glimmering with blue flames, a hideous hooded face staring back at him, looming, yellow eyes alight with glee and triumph.

Horrified, Ezra tried to yank back, but the grip on his wrist was firm, squeezing, ivory skeletal fingers clasped tight around him, cold as ice.

He stepped back, pulling away desperately, his horror mounting as some thing came through the portal with him.

A foot stepped onto the pathway, dark robes rustling after it. His arm withdrew from the portal, a gray hand following, gripping him harshly. The hellish face rippled through the surface, euphoric with exhilaration.

Ezra's throat was frozen on a scream, his body locking up as the waves of dark energy flowing off the man slammed into him, the Force shrieking danger in his ears. Terror rang through him, clanging inside his head and body and he couldn't move, paralyzed by the fear and horror of what had just happened.

The Emperor—for it could only have been him, no one else could be such a black hole of cold and darkness in the Force—cracked a pleased smile.

"Thank you, Bridger," he crooned almost soothingly.

His fingers crushed Ezra's wrist in their cruel grip, drawing a pained cry from the boy as his knees gave out and he collapsed to the pathway.

"You've been most helpful," the Emperor finished, savoring the words like they were a poisoned knife slicing through Ezra's ribs, stabbing him straight in the heart, and Ezra inhaled a desperate, sobbing wheeze, clutching his arm to his chest and curling up as the Sith Lord released his hold.

There was a saber ignition in the muted void. "Get away from him!" Ahsoka yelled, taking a lunging step forward.

The Emperor's arms were up before Ezra could blink; he heard a discharge of static and a cry of pain and alarm and turned his head in time to be freshly horrified by the sight of Ahsoka toppling off the white walkway, her body still sparking.

She dropped into the unknown void below.

"No!" he cried. "Ahsoka!"

His shout echoed hollowly.

She was gone. The void swallowed her up as though she had never been.

His heart and face clenching, Ezra felt involuntary hot tears dripping down his face. He cowered under the shadow of the Emperor, sobbing, gasping with heaving gulps, his twisted arm pressed tight to his body and covered by his other hand. Frantic, fragmented, incoherent thoughts battered inside his head and his stomach sank heavily with congealed dread, a pounding sense of grief and wrongwrongwrong.

Ahsoka... Ahsoka was... again, and he'd... he'd just...

He wasn't even given time to mourn. Spindly gray fingers dug into his hair and gripped hard, pulled his head up. Ezra's blurry, tear-filled vision filled with the face of the monster from the portal, the wrinkled expression now hard and harsh as the yellow bloodshot eyes sneered down at him.

"Ezra Bridger," came a hissing, snake-like rasp. "Mine, at last!"

***

Tears blurred his eyes in the present too. Ezra blinked around them, unable to focus.

Ahsoka was dead.

Sabine was dead—killed by Hydan's men the moment Palpatine had what he wanted.

Hera and Zeb and the others were as good as dead—he knew Thrawn had been sent back to Lothal to deal with the remaining Rebel resistance.

He had spent the last three weeks in unrelenting despair feeling the galaxy darken around him, swallowing up all light and hope, every time Palpatine forced him to open the portal.

All his fault. All his fault, so he had to... even just a little...

An invisible grip tightened suddenly around his neck. Ezra's eyes blinked hard and flickered down in panic.

The Emperor was just standing there in the same position, hands folded calmly, but Ezra could feel his gnarly hands digging into his throat, pressing into his jaw painfully.

A hitched choke sounded from him, and then desperate, strangled gags.

No! No please! Please please don't, not again! he begged mentally towards the Sith's presence, his trapped hands trying to pull frantically from their metal restraints, the edges digging against his wrists.

The last time Palpatine had crushed his throat it had taken the rig two and a half hours to restore his trachea, Ezra holding in painful breathlessness the whole time, straining through dead lungs and only staying conscious by virtue of the Sith spell keeping him alive.

Palpatine kept his Force Grip firmly in place, his hand slowly raising to increase the pressure. "The rig can only heal so much, Bridger," he warned. "And I do not have to keep that function active."

Fresh panic and terror blossomed in Ezra's chest, his breath gargling. His horrified mind tried to comprehend those two hours of hellish undeath stretched out longer, recoiling, his back squirming against the rig.

"But I will," Palpatine said. His eyes narrowed darkly. "So long as you remain compliant and useful," he finished with a growl.

Fresh tears dropped from Ezra's eyes, a helpless little sound squeaking through him. His remaining resistance wilted; he stopped struggling and just waited for the Emperor to release his hold.

The Dark Side fingers slipped down and pinched one of Ezra's ribs deftly, breaking it, before withdrawing from around his throat.

Ezra first free breath was an agonized scream, short and shrill, the sharp pain in his side shrieking through his senses.

He heaved carefully, even that slight movement sending twinges from his broken rib. He wanted to sob; his face was already streaked with hot tears that wouldn't stop falling.

But, keenly aware of the impatient Sith Lord in front of him, Ezra just reached back weakly behind him through the Force.

The control set in the side wall lit up with a yellow glow, and the veil shimmered.

Palpatine's face spread with a smirk.

He said nothing further to Ezra, already striding forward through the opening.

Ezra panted and watched him pass through the archway underneath.

The Temple recoiled. Hot, burning energy surged through the keystone, through the rig, through him, and Ezra moaned and twitched as it coursed up his body to his head, blazing inside his skull with shrieking, screaming pain and voices, voices, a cacophony of voices in the Force. The stone shuddered, and the pit of his stomach turned over and he could feel it, he could feel reality warping and twisting, the fabric of the universe rend and tear as it was reshaped. The void of stars tilted and shook, paths collapsing and dissolving. Pinpoints of light went out. Gates dissipated.

Death and darkness rang out, the ground and air rumbling. Ezra thought he could hear a keening wail as the chaos subsided, the Dark Side surging even stronger and more potently.

It seemed like a horrible eternity before Palpatine emerged from the veil, triumphant. Sparking, staticky power seemed to fritz off him through the Force, the cells of his body a little less solid, a little more incorporeal. The Dark Side weaved in and around and through him like an amorphous, physical thing, eldritch in form, writhing and incomprehensible.

The man turned up a look at Ezra, shaking and panting in the rig, shivers running down his gaunt, emaciated body.

"Until I require you again, my boy," he said in casual, dismissive farewell.

Ezra's breath hitched and fresh, dry sobbing wracked through him. He hung limp and hurting in the restraints, a pitiful sight.

The Emperor departed. The lift chimed from a distance and the floodlights were switched off, plunging the chamber into abject, lonely darkness.

The sole occupant of the room was left once more to his own guilt-ridden, hopeless thoughts.

***

A slow burning crept up his side. The energy moving through the rig curled around him, slowly, painfully, knitting bone back together.

But not fully. Not all the way.

Ezra could feel his endurance waning. The torture, the lack of food and sleep, it was wearing on him. His weakening body could no longer provide enough energy for the spell to heal him. Soon, it wouldn't be enough to keep the portal open.

He was on borrowed time.

While it was some comfort that his ordeal wouldn't last much longer, he knew what Palpatine would do once he realized the unfortunate fact that his key no longer worked in the door.

Dispose of him.

If he was lucky, it'd be quick.

He hadn't been lucky in weeks.

And... there was something he had... to try to do... before the end. Something that Palpatine would definitely kill him for.

If he survived. If he was even... him... at the other end of it.

Ezra breathed softly in the near-total darkness. A chill draft tickled on the back of his neck. He inhaled and exhaled, gathering strength.

He reached out to the Force, letting his mind and body fall away.

Its sharp, strained, broken edges scraped against him, crying out with distress.

I'm sorry, he thought. I'm so sorry. I know I messed up. Please... he called, begging and plaintive. Please let me fix it. Help me.

The Force slipped around him, embraced him like a lost child, a sliver of Light finding him even in this centerpoint of darkness.

Ezra shuddered, and focused.

Kanan's voice echoed to him from the void, calm, gentle instructions feeding to his memory. Ezra slipped deeper into meditation, his pain numbing.

The whispers and echoes of the world between worlds flickered in his ears, in his mind, dancing around him.

Ezra drifted in and out of the starlit void. One inhale and his body twinged, he was hanging from the rig, left in the darkness, another inhale and stars cascaded around him and glimmered in the black sky, humming and murmuring voices filled his head.

He strained softly after one in particular, and focused.

Her voice started separating out from the others, calling out to him like he'd heard before, even through the ruin and chaos of Palpatine's visits.

"Ezra! Ezra!" The syllables hissed frantically, echoing and repeating over each other.

His chest tightened, breathlessly.

Ahsoka...

"Ezra, listen to me! You have to undo this!"

He nodded, grimly, minutely, trying to keep focus. Help me, he begged. Show me how.

The whispers drew closer. Soft, encouraging voices reached out for him. He felt something like a pull on his arm and he was drifting down, down, the stars slowly turning, his essence floating somewhere between time and space.

Invisible warm hands on his shoulders, on his back. Jedi masters from past and present, guiding him forward. The sensation of their words overlapping, a soft murmuring music. Ezra absorbed it dizzily.

Kanan forgave him, told him it was okay to let go.

Depa brushed the dried tears on his cheek away.

Master Windu fed knowledge into his mind, voice steady like a teacher's, describing without words a technique to touch and unravel the tangled strands of time.

He found the center of it shortly, the buzzing, discordant wrong cancer in the formless fabric. Palpatine's meddling was a hideous blight, swallowing up the white-lined pathways. It was a cold pool of swirling darkness.

The Sith spell keeping him alive gripped tighter to him, resistant. Ezra almost blinked back into the temple chamber for a half-second, the pain inside him flaring and electric.

But with a quiet shot of determination he slipped behind the veil again, stretching out his mental hand to touch the surface of the aberration.

The Force rang through him, giving him the strength.

He focused.

The corruption shrieked, surging Dark Side lightning through the portal and into the rig. Ezra could feel his heart jolting, stabbing horribly, but pushed through.

It wasn't enough to just sever Palpatine's connection to the world between worlds. To lock the portal and deprive him of access to it. He had to reverse the changes Palpatine had made. Erase them. Erase all of this.

The Alliance was broken. Palpatine hadn't told him, but Ezra could feel it. The Emperor's victory was all but complete.

Here, in this moment, with all the life left to him, only Ezra could prevent that. A child of the Force, chosen by the Lothal Temple, the only person granted permission to enter.

He'd opened the door. And only he could shut it.

Ezra clenched his physical eyes tightly and concentrated hard, shoving through the lancing tendrils of the corrupted pathways. Cold claws stabbed into his skin, pulling his body apart.

He touched the glasslike surface of the corruption's core, splayed a palm across it. With the whispering urges in his ears and the stars in the void pausing and holding their breath, he pressed.

And pressed.

The strain scraped on his hand and mind and splintered through his body as the warring forces of Light and Dark fought through him. The Dark Side rent him. The Light held him together just long enough.

It hurt to breathe, to move, to think.

His heartbeat was erratic, his lungs unable to draw air. The shatterpoint in space and time creaked like groaning crystal.

Time splintered.

Then it broke.

A loud white CRACK! sounded in the void as Ezra pulled apart the center of the broken timeline, splitting the aberration in half and allowing the Force to flood in and course-correct. Rushing, howling wind screamed in the void, the stars were knocked about and sent spinning, spiraling, pathways unraveled from the tangle. A shrieking filled his head and a crushing ice cold fist closed around his heart, squeezing him; the rig was frying him, taking the last remains of his lifeforce, pain exploded through him as time unwound.

From far away he heard Palpatine's furious, wrathful yell, but it was too late, the temple was pulling apart in the Force, everything was pulling apart, rearranging. The rig was gone and so was the pain and there was nothing but buffeting winds, and gentle whispers, and Kanan and Ahsoka's ephemeral embrace as his own existence began to erase.

Ezra exhaled and let his essence dissolve, desperately hoping and praying that when he opened his eyes again, saw his hand reaching for that portal, that he would choose differently.

---

*whispers* I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m soooooooorrryyyyyyy.

#bad things happen bingo #BTHB #ezra bridger #star wars rebels #star wars #whump #prompt fics #fanfiction #this physically hurt to write ow ow ow owwwww #cute boys in peril

8 notes · View notes

xiaotangyuanm · 10 months

Text

The Smiling Angel –Yangtze Finless Porpoise

(6bDE-fzcyxmv0564824.jpg)

Who are they?

The Yangtze finless porpoise (Neophocaena phocaenoides asiaeorientalis), also known as the “smiling angel”' because of its curved muzzle line, is a subspecies of the finless porpoise.(Wang, 2009) It is only found in the middle and lower reaches of the Yangtze River and its associated lakes. For example, Poyang Lake, the largest freshwater lake in China. These finless porpoises are well adapted to their freshwater habitat and can live in both rivers and lakes, which sets them apart from their saltwater counterparts. Yet the Yangtze finless porpoise is a critically endangered marine mammal facing numerous threats that are pushing it to the brink of extinction. The known population of the Yangtze finless porpoise is now almost 1,000, while in recent years, through conservation and breeding, the population of the giant panda has reached over 2,000.(Shi, 2020) There are even fewer Yangtze finless porpoises than pandas, and the Yangtze finless porpoise is even more endangered than the pandas.

Two freshwater cetaceans, the baiji and the Yangtze finless porpoise, were once found in the Yangtze River basin. In 2006, the Institute of Aquatic Sciences of the Chinese Academy of Sciences conducted a distribution survey of the baiji dolphin and found no trace of it, thus declaring the baiji functionally extinct.(ZHANG et al., 2003) So all we can do now is to try to stop this tragedy again and to protect the breeding and development of the Yangtze finless porpoise.

Existing threats(Wang, 2009)

Most of the current threats to the Yangtze finless porpoise come from human activities. Due to the large number of people living near the Yangtze River and the dependence of the population near the Yangtze River on fishing. These human activities have greatly affected the lives of Yangtze finless porpoises.

One of the human-caused impacts is the loss of habitat for the Yangtze finless porpoise. Cities along the Yangtze River are growing rapidly, such as Shanghai and Wuhan. The rapid urbanisation, industrialisation and infrastructure development in these cities has led to habitat degradation and loss for the Yangtze finless porpoise. As a result of habitat loss, the Yangtze finless porpoise's movements have been restricted.

The second impact is the shortage of food for the Yangtze finless porpoise due to overfishing of fish resources. Yangtze finless porpoises are at the top of the food chain in the Yangtze River, and fish in the Yangtze are their main source of food. Overfishing and unsustainable fishing practices in the Yangtze River have led to the depletion of fish stocks and the lack of food for Yangtze finless porpoises. Special fishing practices such as electrofishing with electric rods and large fishing nets can also lead to accidental damage to Yangtze finless porpoises.

In addition, because of the development of the surrounding cities, industrial, agricultural pollution and untreated sewage discharges pollute the Yangtze River while also causing toxins and heavy metals to accumulate in the bodies of Yangtze finless porpoises, leading to unhealthy health. These toxic substances lead to immune problems and reproductive difficulties for the Yangtze finless porpoise.

Finally, the increase in ship traffic, underwater construction and shipping activities generate high levels of noise. This noise disrupts the Yangtze finless porpoise's ability to communicate and navigate, making their survival more difficult. They are disturbed and have difficulty finding food, avoiding danger and mating.

Figure 1. Dead Yangtze finless porpoise on the shore of Poyang Lake

(https://www.rfa.org/mandarin/yataibaodao/huanjing/hc-03272015124432.html)

Protection measures

There are currently three main ways to protect the Yangtze finless porpoise: in-situ conservation, translocation and captive breeding. In-situ conservation is the most effective and direct method of conservation. However, the destruction of the Yangtze finless porpoise's habitat by anthropogenic activities has made the first measure less than 100% effective. Even though protected areas have been established in some areas of the Yangtze River frequented by Yangtze finless porpoises, legislation has been introduced to prohibit the use of some fishing gear that is harmful to cetaceans and fish stocks. Effective enforcement remains a huge problem. The use of banned fishing gear has been found to be surreptitiously used in protected areas by reserve officers.(Mei et al., 2014)

This is due to a second conservation measure, the relocation of the site. Experts look for suitable habitats in rivers and lakes around the Yangtze River to relocate and protect porpoises that cannot live in the Yangtze River basin. This measure was initially opposed, and those in charge said the move was not permanent. They are waiting for the Yangtze River to become a better water source before allowing the Yangtze dolphins to return home.(Shi, 2020)

Figure 2. Staff transporting the porpoise to the medical examination boat on a special stretcher (https://chinadialogue.net/zh/6/43216/)

In the Institute of Aquatic Biology of the Chinese Academy of Sciences in Wuhan, there is a Baiji Dolphin Hall. It was used to artificially protect and help breed the Yangtze finless porpoise after it was declared functionally extinct of Baiji. In 2005, the first captive-bred Yangtze finless porpoise was born and has participated in the breeding of its offspring; in 2018, the second captive-bred Yangtze finless porpoise was born.(Wang, 2009)

Figure 3. Yangtze finless porpoise at the Wuhan Baiji Dolphin Hall

(https://cjjjd.ndrc.gov.cn/zhongshuochangjiang/ztbd/202209/t20220915_1335536.htm)

What to do in the future?

In January 2020, China's Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Affairs announced a ten-year fishing ban plan for the Yangtze River. It means a ten-year ban on productive fishing of natural fishery resources in the main streams and important tributaries of the Yangtze River from January 1, 2020. This measure is very beneficial to the future of Yangtze finless porpoises. There are many other national policies that show the importance the country attaches to the environment of the Yangtze River and the future of the Yangtze finless porpoise.

At the same time, many public welfare activities have been launched to let people who do not know about the Yangtze finless porpoise know more about this lovely animal, so that they can start to protect the environment and bring the Yangtze finless porpoise home as soon as possible.

Figure 4.Photos of porpoise protection theme activities(https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/IEg4WuYQoZVnoL7_VsrZpA)

Thank you all for reading! If you have any questions or ideas, please feel free to discuss them with me in the comments.

1 note · View note

chapter-master-darius · 1 year

Text

Machine, or Man?

This’ll be long.

Bahram stops running when he sees the Skitarii. They have a vox. They’re calling for help! He might just live through this nightmare!

As he gives his identification to the Skitarii, he sits next to the others. The room is a vehicle bay, but it would only store one or two vehicles. Not very big ones either. Cramped, but at least he’s safe.

Or so he thought.

The attackers aren’t just Traitors. They’re Traitor Space Marines.

The noise of these Traitors’ weapons gets closer, some of The Skitarii beginning to fire back.

He sees the tech-adept trying to get the vox working get hit by a stray shot. They fall to the ground, dead.

He runs over to the vox, only staring at it for a little. He was trained how to make one piece of a vox caster, not how to use them. But...it can’t be that hard, can it?

Apparently it can. As he fumbles with it the Skitarii Marshal hisses at him: “Get it working, now. We cannot hold out for long.”

“Y-Yes Sir!” Bahram stutters out as he redoubles his efforts.

Eventually he makes it work, not after a small prayer, but by smacking a part of it. He gets aghast looks from some of the tech-adepts. Although one nods, muttering “Percussive Maintenance. Acceptable in extreme circumstances.”

The Skitarii Marshal however, seems to disagree. But the fighting is not over, so He’ll deal with the blasphemy later.

More and more Skitarii fall. Not necessarily dying, but losing their limbs. Are these Traitors...aiming for the arms and legs?

It’s down to two Skitarii and the Marshal now, and they know they wont win. The Marshal sparks his arc-maul to life.

But then there is a loud booming that echoes down the halls. The fire of the Skitarii and these Traitors both stopping.

That sounds like...like a teleporter.

The Adeptus Astartes! They are the only Imperial Forces to use teleporters!

A booming voice echoes down the halls.

“Beg for the Dark Gods’ mercy traitors! You will get none from us!”

That voice might sound terrifying in other circumstances, but to Bahram it sounds like a Living Saint.

The Traitors nearby realize however, that the hallways are long and prone to carrying voices. And turn back to the Skitarii.

And to Bahram.

The two Skitarii accompanying the Marshal die quickly.

Bahram ducks his head, and while he isn’t the most pious, begins to pray for the Omnissah’s help.

He looks up when he hears the ZAP of a teleporter.

There’s....there’s only one?! It...it doesn’t look like a sergeant or a champion either! The Astartes are godly warriors but the Heretics outnumber it by nearly a hundred!

A giant stands over the adepts, menials, and indeed the Marshal.

It turns to the Traitors.

And it speaks. “Do you feel cold, traitors?”

...

WHAT?!

This marine it...IT’S ASKING ABOUT THE WEA-

The marine, in a flash of movement, has it’s bolter up in an instant. It’s thunderous booming near deafening Bahram in this confined space.

Every shot it fires, Bahram can hear the thud of heavy metal fall to the floor. As he glances over, he can see every shot this giant fires finds it’s way to a traitor’s head. The rounds ripping through their helmets, if they have any head left it jerks backward with enough velocity that it would’ve broken their necks, if they weren’t already dead.

One Traitor runs forward, swinging a buzzing chainsword at the Marine defending Bahram and his...well friends isn’t the right word.

The Marine turns and raises a hand and he...

Did he just catch the blade of the chainsword?

The deafening roar of the chainsword’s teeth scraping against the Marine’s armor only stops when the chainsword seems to jam.

The Traitor looks at his chainsword, then the Marine. “HOW?!”

The Marine is silent as he moves the chainsword out of the way and shoots the Traitor in the head.

Bahram feels something splatter on his robes.

He looks down.

Oh good, it’s just blood. And not...brain...

The Traitors stop shooting at the Marine, all in some kind of shock.

This one Marine had killed at least thirty of them with ease, and dispatched their champion with a disturbing amount of ease.

The Marine lowers his bolter, the magazine falling to the floor as he reloads it slowly.

“I’d run if I were you.” The Marine says, almost casually.

One Traitor evidently agrees and turns to run. Only for him to run into another loyal marine.

That Marine seems...tiny? He’d tower over Bahram, but that’s not saying much.

The other Traitors turn when they hear the coward cry out for half a second before a wet thump is heard.

“Oh. It seems it’s too late.”

Bahram doesn’t bother counting how many loyal marines he can see. They outnumber the traitors now.

One traitor cries out: “Mercy! Mer-” before he is cut off by the Marine next to Bahram shooting him.

It only takes seconds for the traitors to be destroyed, the Marine turning towards the Marshal.

“Marshal. Report.”

“I request to report to an officer.”

“You are reporting to an officer. I am Chapter Master Darius, Revenants of the XIVth. Now, report.”

“Affirmative.” The Marshal says after a moment, but Bahram stops listening after that.

He’s so glad to be alive. “Am...am I crying?” He asks softly to himself, reaching up to wipe his misty eyes.

After about a minute, the ma-Chapter Master turns to his marines and begins to bark orders.

Bahram lets out a small relived laugh. “I’m alive...I’m alive.” He mutters to himself.

He feels a cold sensation on the back of his head, and feels the heat of an arc pistol.

“No. No you aren’t. You have committed tech heresy by striking one of the sacred machines.”

“N-No I was just-!”

“It does not matter, Heretek.”

Full body sobs wrack through Bahram’s body. This is how he dies?! He’s a loyal servant of the Mechanicus! He wasn’t the most pious, no but he was loyal!

“Marshal. Stand. Down.” A deep voice commands. The Chapter Master?

“Respectfully Chapter Master, the Adeptus Astartes does not command the armies of the Mechanicus.” The Marshal states. And Bahram is disloyal?!

“Marshal, you are currently the only surviving Skitarii that I am aware of on this planet. Why don’t you keep it that way? If that Adept-”

“A-Acolyte, my lord.” Bahram says before he can stop himself, his eyes widening afterwards.

“Ah. If that *Acolyte* didn’t do what they did, You, and everyone here, would be dead. So either you let them live, or I shoot you, and they live anyway. Don’t make me waste a bolt on you. After all, isn’t wastefulness a sin?”

“Chapter Master you do not have the authority to-”

“No, perhaps I don’t. But I currently have a bolter pointed at you.”

The arc pistol is pulled away from Bahram’s head.

“Fine. It can live. But not here. It is banished from the Mechanicus.”

“Well, you technically did what I said. I’ll take it.”

Bahram starts to cry again, but he stops after a moment.

B-Banished?! How would he live?!

The Marshall looks at the Tech-Adepts. “Adepts, follow me. We shall return to Mechanicus forces in orbit.”

He turns to look at Bahram. “Not. You.”

As the Marshal and the Adepts get up and begin to ready themselves to leave, Bahram continues to cry. “What am I supposed to do?” He mumbles to himself.

“Well, you can come with me.” The Chapter Master says.

Bahram lets out a yelp of surprise. “Y-You heard me, my lord?”

“I’m an Astartes. We have very keen hearing.”

“A-Ah. But I don’t want to impose my lord, you have already saved my life and I will be forever grateful. You don’t have to take pity on me.”

“Good. Cause I’m not taking pity on you. I’m giving you a chance to live. And not be confined to abject poverty.”

“Why?” Bahram asks after a moment. “Why waste your time with me? I’m not even a techpriest.”

The Chapter Master gets on a knee and removes his helmet.

‘Oh...he’s kind of hot.’ Bahram thinks before chastising himself.

“And I was an outcast. Like you are now. My brothers turned on this Imperium. I did not. For that, I was outcast from my Legion. I don’t wish that upon anyone, even my enemies. I do not do this not out of pity, but out of a desire to help.”

His voice is...it’s different than Bahram would imagine. Through his helmet it sounded like a mighty war machine. But now it sounds almost normal. Exceptionally deep and gravelly, but normal.

“I...I can’t fight. I can’t repair anything...I would be a waste of resources.” Bahram wasn’t lying there. He’s around six foot tall, yes, but he’s thin and frail. Mostly because of malnutrition, but even still.

“Not to me.”

Bahram begins to cry yet again. By Terra he needs to stop crying.

“Th-Thank you my lord!” He near shouts out.

“Please, call me Darius.”

“Yes my lo...Darius.”

The Chapter Ma-Darius stands. He offers a hand to Bahram. “Have you ever wanted to see the stars?”

“Yes. I have.”

“Well, no shortage of those where I live.”

“Where would that be?”

“On my ship. The Redemption.”

“It...it sounds like a grand ship.”

A marine in the background chuckles. “Yeah if you count plasma guns as grand.” He says lowly. But Bahram can still hear him.

“I do.” Bahram blurts out.

“Why?” The Marine says after a second.

“Mechanicus Nex. The guy’s from the Mechanicus. ‘Course he’d think plasma cannons are grand.” A third marine says.

“...Fair point.” Nex mutters.

“Don’t we have traitors to kill?” The exceptionally short marine says.

“You do.” Darius says at them. “I’ll take...what’s your name?”

“Bahram. Bahram Gamma-3.”

“I’ll take Bahram here to the Redemption.”

“Yes Father.” The Marine that chastised Nex says.

Father?

‘That’s a question for later.’ Bahram thinks.

Darius puts his helmet back on, sighing a little as he did so. “Ready to leave?”

“Yes...I think so.” Bahram says as he looks back up at Darius.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited.’ He thinks.

‘Fuck I hope Eklius doesn’t scare him.’ Darius thinks.

#ooc #storytelling #bio #oh yeah it’s bio alright #new character alert

1 note · View note

crystaltcs · 1 year

Text

The Essential Benefits of Water Jet Ejectors Over Regular Vacuum Pumps

What are Water Jet Ejectors?

The Water Jet Ejectors are Simple Vacuum Pumps working under the influence High-Pressure liquids. These instruments work under the principle of high kinetic energy. This is a modern version pump used in various industrial applications and household uses. We can find various types of ejectors with a diversity of motive force and suctional force.

They have a lesser number of moving parts unlike the standard pumps used in water pumping applications like borewells and water tanks. So we can say, they are simple in functioning and also a reliable apparatus. Due to their excellent suction capabilities, they are used in heavy-duty applications in the sea or marine ejectors. Water Jet Ejectors will attain the highest volume flow rates. And they also provide a high degree of protection and safety in all respects.

Water Jet Ejectors can perform to produce a pumping movement without using any mechanical driving forces. Here water, steam, and gas can serve as driving forces, which will transport liquids, steam, and sometimes solid substances. In the absence of moving parts, the water Jet Ejectors provide maximum reliability and operated even after attaining depletion and large-scale operations. Although these apparatus will require less maintenance and sustainability is more.

In general, An ordinary Water Jet Ejectors consists of three major components, a nozzle, a diffuser, and a holding body to hold the apparatus firmly. The apparatus is framed for mixing the fluids and create highpressure inside the chamber. Then it is passed through the nozzle converting the pressure energy into kinetic energy. After that the fluids are passed through the diffuser and collected.

Depending on the applications and utilization, these are made of stainless steel, bronze, high-grade steel, etc. Water Jet ejectors can be manufactured out of perfect materials which can withstand heavy applications. They are also produced by using non-metallic materials like graphite, ceramics or glass, and all types of thermoplastic materials.

One can easily find Water Jet Ejector pumps in household pumps and their advantages are boundless as compared to normal conventional water pumps. In this article we will discuss clearly the advantages of Water Jet Ejectors

Benefits of Water Jet Ejectors used in production and manufacturing industries

Safe Operation: Water Ejectors are highly secure to use in high-risk industrial locations, where as the electrically operated equipment will need blast-proofing materials which are comparatively costly.

High Suction Ability: Due to their superior suction potentialities, water ejectors are commonly used for Marine Engineering for varied applications like chain locker ejectors, ballast stripping ejectors, and bilge stripping ejectors.

Low maintenance cost: The overall cost and expenditure incurred in maintaining the Water Jets are less compared to standard vacuum pumps.

Corrosion and erosion resistance: They possess high corrosion and erosion proof which can withstand wear and tear during operation. As these ejectors are made from superior-quality materials like steel, graphite, and plastics,

Ease of replacement of body parts: the parts are easily replaced without affecting the production time, hence saving a lot of time and money.

Faster and automated operation: The functioning of the Water Jets are quicker and swifter in operation, which is machine-controlled and does not require periodic manual operation.

Versatile product: The piping arrangements are adapted to severe weather conditions and these ejectors accommodate semi-solids, gases, all types of liquids, and slurries to operate in water sewages treatments.

No noise pollution: The apparatus is built in resilient environmental conditions and contains negligible moving parts. Hence the operation is noiseless.

Why choose Water Jet Ejectors over Normal vacuum pumps

We provide the best quality Water Ejectors which are more sturdy and compact and also designed to meet the customer requirements and demand. The products we supply are reliable and work under strict weather conditions. The entire arrangement is effortless and easy to install in the working space/area. The installation of Water Jet Ejectors is regarded as a paramount achievement in production and manufacturing industries. The Water jet ejectors are available at a reasonable price, and it requires very less maintenance cost. The organization can save capital expenditure and in maintaining the Water Jet Ejectors.

Source Link : https://paidforarticles.com/top-essential-benefits-of-water-jet-ejectors-over-regular-vacuum-pumps-686659

#water eductor #waterjetejectors liquidjetejector manufacturer supplier crystaltcs #water jet ejectors

0 notes