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radioactivepeasant · 1 year

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Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

This is part of my Splinter Cell au, following up on Jak meeting his alternate timeline parents for the first time

Mar peered at the crowd from the safety of his uncle's arms and frowned. That was a lot of people! They looked normal, not dressed funny like the people in this city, at least. But what were they all crowded around?

A tall lady moved aside for an instant, and Mar almost could've shouted in excitement if his throat hadn't seized up.

Mama!

He smacked Sig’s arms, his shoulders, frantically, pointing at the crowd and then himself. With a shaky breath, Sig crouched and set him down on the sand.

"Go on," he said thickly, "Go to your mama."

Mar didn't have to be told twice. He ran as fast as his short legs could carry him. Some of the adults heard him coming and turned to see him, only to step back out of his way with wide eyes. Mar slammed into his mother's legs and clung to her skirt. He didn't understand why he was about to cry. He was happy! He'd missed his mother so much! So why was he crying?

Mama gasped, and then her arms were around him, warm and strong and just like he remembered.

"Baby!"

Mama's voice bounced up and down, like she had the hiccups.

"Oh Minnow, we were so worried about you! Who took you? Are you okay? Do you remember what happened, baby?"

Mar buried his face in the crook of his mother's neck and shook his head. He didn't remember much about the night they all got separated, just mean faces and an ugly bird and people yelling at him to be quiet. Probably because the weird people in Haven were so loud that they couldn't hear themselves think already. Mar thought he maybe used to cry out loud, but it wasn't quiet enough.

"Where's Jakky?" Mar asked, and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

Hadn't Jak had a mission today? Did he come back okay? He'd seemed scared before going.

"Your br- your older brother?" Phobos asked. She smiled, but her eyes were damp. "He came out to meet us when we got here. Your daddy is talking to him."

"Where?! Where's Daddy?!" Mar whipped his head back and forth, searching the crowd for his father.

He spotted Jak, looking really nervous and doing the thing where he scratched his arm a lot. Mister Kor used to call it a Nervous Tick, which was a weird thing to say, because Jak wasn't pretending to be a clock at all. Jak looked down at the sand and mumbled something.

Why was he nervous? Jak wasn't afraid of anything!

"Is Jakky sad?" Mar asked, confused. "We found you! Why's he sad?"

His mother's arms tightened around him. "I don't think he's sad, sweet one. But Jak hasn't met us before. He's a little shy, and that's okay."

Well that didn't make any sense, and Mar wasn't shy about saying so.

"Mommy," he signed, matter-of-factly, "You're Jakky's mommy too, remember? You remember? Why you said he hasn't met you?"

Phobow frowned and slowly rose from the sand to settle Mar on her hip. She looked to her husband, speaking quietly and gently to the skittish teenager, and sighed.

"Jak...got taken away a long time ago. Just like bad guys took you away. I think he was too little to remember us."

Righteous indignation rose up in the little boy's chest and spilled over his cheeks in hot tears, even while he fought to keep his lip from trembling.

"That's not fair!" He almost hit the Spargan next to Phobos with the vehemence of his signs.

"It's not," Phobos agreed. "But we're here now, and I promise, Mar, we will never lose either of you again."

Jak met her eyes at that moment, and he pointed at himself in disbelief. Phobos's heart ached seeing the shock in this newfound son's face. It wasn’t that he didn't believe they were his people. Phobos had seen those eyes in the broken before the rebellion finally toppled the old regime of Spargus: Jak didn't know he was worth saving. He didn't understand why anyone would want him -- or was it that he was used to being wanted as a weapon? An object, a tool with no autonomy or feelings of his own.

Phobos would find the people who had taken her baby, and she would find the people who had broken this boy -- this spitting image of Damas -- and they would pay in blood for every tear they'd caused to fall.

For now, she simply held Mar to her breast. She closed her eyes and let herself feel the pulse in his skin where it lay against her neck, warm and alive and proof that this was real. He was so much taller now, and thinner than he ought to have been. A gangly tangle of arms and legs, wound around her neck and waist. Phobos buried her face in his hair and let the tears fall at last.

Relief and joy and the pain of two lost years -- two years of milestones they would never get back -- and it was finally over.

Jak watched the woman crying softly into Mar's hair, feeling unbearably out of place. This scene wasn't meant for him. He wasn't Mar.

He was as much a stranger to these people as they were to him. They didn't know each other. He couldn’t just pretend to suddenly have memories and emotions that had been ripped from him ages ago. Whatever he'd been like as a little kid, who was to say he had been anything like Mar was now?

Panic began to build in his throat, ringing in his ears and drowning out whatever Mar's father was saying to him.

They have some version of me in their heads. Everyone does. What do they want me to be? What'll they do the first time I screw up? Sure, they're nice now, but what happens when I don't fit in their box?

Suddenly Daxter was there, weighing down his shoulders, digging in his claws just enough to bring Jak back down to earth. And he felt something else, something he'd only experienced once before.

Light eco.

The eco washed over him like a warm wind, soaking into his muscles and down into his core. It met the darkness head on, and a violent surge of nausea rocked Jak. His knees hit the sand unexpectedly, and his jaws ached with the force of holding back bile. Every nerve, every cell burned like he was back in the Chair again. And then, just as quickly, the pain was gone.

The ugliness, the boiling acid that flowed between his veins and arteries, was...different. Farther away, almost. As if it had been neutralized by something. The light eco?

"Easy, easy there, pal."

Daxter patted his back.

"Just take some deep breaths and let Spike here work his magic."

"Don't call me that."

Mar's father sounded mildly irritated, like he was distracted.

"It fits, doesn't it?" Daxter retorted.

"Call me Spike, Scar, or anything that isn't my name," the man grunted back, "and I'm calling you "rat"."

Daxter crouched low against Jak’s neck and muttered in his ear, "Touch-y! I can see where you got your sense of humor, Jak."

He turned to give Damas a wry look. "Bigfoot here gets the same way when Krew's goons call him "prettyboy"."

Jak gritted his teeth. "You call me dumb names," he rasped through numb lips, "nobody else does."

He finally found the mental wherewithal to raise his eyes and discovered that Damas knelt in the sand across from him, one hand glowing slightly. There was a very grim look in his eyes, one that spoke multitudes.

"Never let them take your name from you," he agreed solemnly.

Jak averted his gaze again with a bitter snort.

"They already did once. But this name, I chose. It's mine."

Precursors knew he'd gotten to choose precious little in his life. He wouldn't give this up.

Damas leaned back and settled both hands on his knees.

"All the more reason to fight for it," he said.

Then he tilted his head and frowned.

"Is your eco core stable now, young one?"

A cold chill squirmed in Jak’s gut. He swallowed hard, and the words stuck in his throat as he turned to Daxter.

"How close was I?" he signed as dread rose to squeeze his lungs.

Daxter winced. "Fangs and claws, but no horns," he whispered.

Oh rot.

Mar's father had seen the Thing. Barely a glimpse, but it would be enough to seal his fate.

Trembling, Jak looked up.

Damas’s expression was still grave.

"No one else saw it," he said quietly, "It's alright. You're alright. Do you often lose control in fight or flight situations?"

"Lay off! It's not Jak’s fault!" Daxter leaned out from Jak's shoulder, fur bristling.

"I never said it was," Damas answered. His face softened, and he leaned forward.

"When was the last time you absorbed light eco, son?"

What kind of question was that?

"...two...two years ago," Jak mumbled.

That seemed to satisfy the exile king. He fell back on his heels with a nod.

"Self-taught mastery over dark eco hasn't happened in generations, and never without the balancing influence of its sister element. I'm amazed you can battle-shift at all with an unbalanced core."

Jak and Daxter stared at the man with dull shock stamped across their faces.

Slowly, Daxter turned back to Jak.

"Did...did you get any of that?" he asked.

Jak grimaced. "I understood all those words separately," he muttered back.

"Sig, has he done this before?"

Jak craned his neck as Sig pushed through the crowd to sit down beside Jak. He dropped a comforting hand on Jak’s back and clicked his tongue.

"Just give him space. He's got this. Right cherry? You got this."

He waved off the other Wastelanders with a brusque gesture and shifted to one side, sitting as if guarding him.

Damas visibly relaxed and nodded once.

"I'm afraid this many of us at once may have overwhelmed him."

Jak slotted his fingers into his hair and an inappropriately hysterical giggle burst out of his throat, startling him and Daxter both.

"Ye- yeah, you could say that."

Sig frowned sharply. When Jak’s eyes drifted away, he quickly signed to Damas, "He's known little kindness and much suffering. He barely remembers how to be a kid."

Damas winced ever so slightly. He let out his breath in a few short puffs, then rocked back on his heels again.

"Jak," he said slowly, "I...apologize if this question is intrusive. But do you have any recollection of your parents from your original timeline?"

The boy's eyes hardened, and he shifted, drawing his knees to his chest in an almost protective gesture.

"No," he said sharply. "I didn't know my parents. Wasn't part of Samos’s plan."

Samos.

The name clearly meant something to the exiled king. Anger flashed briefly through his eyes, warning of an approaching storm.

"Meddling acolyte," Damas muttered under his breath with a vicious curse to punctuate it. "He has much to answer for."

Shaking off the dark look, he tried to settle to something more neutral.

"If that is the case, then we really are starting at the beginning, aren't we? I...understand that we have not yet earned your trust, Jak. But would- that is, would you permit us the chance to do so? To get to know you?"

Jak tightened his arms around his knees and resisted a childish urge to bury his head in them. To hide. This was so much attention, so unlike anything he'd become accustomed to. They weren't treating him like a monster, but they sure weren't treating him like Sandover and the Underground did when he was a "hero", either. No demands, no assumption that he was going to fall in line and see things their way just because they told him it was the right thing to do. Someone was asking for a chance to prove himself to Jak!

Unable to properly form his thoughts into words, Jak bounced one shoulder. It was a silent cue to Daxter, a plea to answer on his behalf. The ottsel sat up and folded his arms with a grimace.

"Is this some kind of trick?" Daxter asked suspiciously. "People don't normally ask -- or care -- what we think. Tess and Sig excluded. They just bark orders at us and complain."

"Sounds like Haven alright," Damas answered dryly. "Let me guess: "go there, do that, fetch this, kill them, everything's all your fault", right?"

Daxter squinted at him. "You sure you only just met us? Cause you're basically reading off our script."

With a humorless smile, Damas shrugged. "Even kings are not exempt from their demands. Or perhaps it is especially kings who are not exempt from their demands."

He looked like he was about to say something else when the breath was driven from him with a loud "oof!"

Mar barreled into him, knocking Damas back onto the sand.

"DADDY DADDY!" Mar's hands shouted, then he flung his arms as far around the man's chest as he could reach -- which wasn't far, frankly.

Damas caught Mar up in a fierce hug, and curled his body around the little boy as though he could hide him from the world.

"Mar! Oh, let me look- let me look at you!"

He smoothed back Mar's hair, traced his fingers along round cheeks, memorizing every detail.

"Sweetheart, you got so big! When did you get so tall?"

Jak was pretty sure it was a rhetorical question, but he couldn’t help answering anyway.

"That's um, that's pretty recent. Just since moving in with the Babak."

He hoped that was at least some comfort to the man. In just the two years they'd been apart, he'd found himself shocked by how much Keira had changed. He couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to miss your own kid's milestones like that.

Well. Maybe he could.

After all, the Explorer he'd called Uncle had traveled so often and so far that Jak had experienced most of his milestones alone.

A small, warm, hand slipped into Jak's and squeezed. He looked up, surprised, to find Mar leaning out of Damas’s arms. Mar was frowning, eyebrows knit together. He pursed his lips and tried several times to make a sound.

"Dz- ss-" he swallowed hard and tried to remember how to use the muscles in his throat. "J- Ja-k?"

Jak's mouth fell open.

He knew Mar preferred to be nonverbal, just as he had been at the same age. Speaking out loud was reserved for when they felt safest. When they were fully comfortable with their surroundings. Mar had never felt safe enough to verbally talk to Jak before.

Are we safe? He's safe now, what about us?

Damas’s eyes widened, and there was a suspicious moisture in Sig’s single eye as they both stared at Mar. They knew Mar Didn't Talk To Strangers. He didn't speak to people who weren't family. Which meant that Mar had fully accepted Jak as family.

Well, that streamlined things a bit.

"Jak's okay, Lil Man," Sig said, clearing his throat. "Just give him time to adjust, okay?"

#jak and daxter #jak and daxter au #jak and daxter mar #splinter cell au #jak and daxter sig #dadmas #king damas #captain phobos #jak's mother #Jak is having an existential crisis and Damas is mentally reconfiguring his house to plan Jak’s new room already #given the general temperament of canon Wastelanders they all probably find his Dark Form fairly endearing #this Damas kept up his training with the monks and is now very glad he did #Jak doesn't know how to deal with this much positive feedback. he's like Megamind #Mar doesn't know what the big deal is and nobody knows how to tell him #things are about to go very poorly for Baron Praxis #writing prompts #fic prompts #free day thursday #long post

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sticktopia · 7 months

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I’ve been working on this all day am I’m very proud of it

I decided to do the “eraser reveal” because why not? And I’ve always wanted to lol.

Pictures separately under the cut

#alan becker #art #avm fanart #ava #ava the dark lord #avm purple #Reconfigured Dark AU

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theunknowndoodler · 1 year

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Toddler Dark playing with Crimson

#alan becker #ava oc #ava dark lord #ava au #reconfigured dark au #little crimson

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raindropsyndrome · 1 year

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Long caption warning 💀

PLEASE. Ignore my spelling errors I’m so tired.

*cracks knuckles* Alright, some people on Instagram asked for this and so now I will share. (Angst warning pssshhh)

My timeline for my F!Donnie (starting just before CJ was introduced):

- Over the years, Donnie would join in battles, mostly providing long range defense, all the while blasting his tunes on full blast

- But that changed when he got Krang’d right to his head, Mikey was able to remove the infection, but this caused Don’s eyesight to become quite poor (and for him to not trust himself in combat afterwards.)

- After that incident, Donnie became absolutely fascinated with Krang tech and biology, subconsciously wondering if he could replicate that raw “power” he’d felt when the Krang was infecting him, and if he could control it, understand it.

- He didn’t like that, but over time he felt it was necessary to beating the Krang. “Keep your friends close, and keep your enemies closer” type deal

- So Donnie becomes “the guy in the chair” (oh yeah he also rebuilt Shelldon. Finally. </3)

- Cj was born, Cassandra had fallen in battle only a few months later, leaving the turtles and April to fully take care of CJ

- While Leo, being the leader, took on most of the responsibility, Donnie got to spend more time with CJ as a result of staying at their base more

- Donnie LOVED being around CJ, he would teach CJ everything he knew, even if CJ didn’t quite understand him yet. He even let CJ hang around in his lab, (as long as he touched NOTHING.) Donnie even upgraded Cassandra’s hockey stick and mask then gave them to CJ

- only a few years later had Raph fallen as well

- Donnie felt as if it was partially his fault Raph couldn’t get out alive, and so he begrudgingly quit his role as “the guy in the chair,” dedicating all of his time to his inventions

- He became MUCH more reclusive, leaving everyone in the dark about what (and how) he was doing. To CJ, he was more of a “presence” rather than an uncle now

- He then revealed his new invention, the Raph mech (Don has the shittiest coping skills known to man)

- Another couple years pass, Don still using all of his time to conduct his “experiments”

- Around this time, Leo had lost his arm. Donnie reconfigured one of his Raph mech’s arms to fit Leo to use as a prosthetic, the Raph mech was later decommissioned

- One day, Donnie oddly insisted on tagging along on a mission with Leo and Mikey

- HOLY MOLY LONG STORY SHORT, they get caught by a Krang soldier on their mission. But instead of taking cover, Donnie charges straight for the Krang mech

- Mikey and Leo watch in astonishment as Donnie manages to swiftly climb up onto the Krang mech and mount himself on its back, using his battle shell’s limbs for support

- To their horror, Donnie rips off his gloves and reveals his robotic arms, and starts tearing into the back of the mech, digging into the inside of it

- He deploys the wires and his own Krang biomass from his robotic arms, and shoves it all into the back of the Krang mech

- For a few moments, he struggles. Then, with purple glowing markings, his expression suddenly changes and the opening where the Krang soldier was mounted closed up, crushing the Krang inside

-ok so longer story shorter- through all of the struggle, the Krang he’d trapped in his prosthetic arms had been creeping onto him and was soon to make contact with his skin. And the building they were all in starts to collapse, (and when I say “building” I mean a giant NY style skyscraper,) and in an effort to save Mikey and Leo from being crushed, Donnie holds up what rubble he can with the now possessed mech, getting himself crushed, unable to hold up all the weight forever.

(But not before an epic and heartfelt monologue and musical number.)

Good god I’m so EMBARRASSING

I wish. I could wright fanfiction.

Goodbye now 🏃💨

#art #my art #my artwork #sketch #sketches #sketch dump #rise of the tmnt au #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt fanart #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt fan art #rottmnt au #rottmnt

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fatehbaz · 7 months

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[E]very [interspecies] meeting in fact reminds us that the being we meet is and always shall be strange to us […]. When beings meet there is a distance between, such that in encountering the slug we also encounter something beyond the slug – a multitude of life we cannot sense. [...] So despite shared histories and the close proximity in which slugs and [humans] live, the slug retains a certain darkness as a creature apart; something is held in reserve […]. And so fleeting awareness of the irretrievability of the lives of others intensifies poignancy, such that despite a gulf separating the [human] from other creatures, some connection, however fleeting, is made to something – however strange. Refusing to dismiss the everyday and the banal is an ethical response. […] Slugs are there: sliming, chomping, and oozing around quietly and that should be enough to give them consideration.

[Text by: Franklin Ginn. “Sticky lives: Slugs, detachment and more-than-human ethics in the garden.” Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers, Volume 39, Issue 4. 2013. Bold emphasis added by me.]

---

So, can an insect speak? And if yes, do we understand it? Wittgenstein maintained that ‘if a lion could speak we would not understand him’, by which he implied that we do not share the ‘form of lion-life’ that would make lion language fully transparent to us […]. A similar insight was [...] expressed by [...] [a twentieth-century] honeybee researcher [...]: Beyond the appreciable facts of their life we know but little of the bees. And the closer our acquaintance becomes, the nearer is our ignorance brought to us of the depths of their real existence. But such ignorance is better than the other kind, which is unconscious and satisfied.

[Text by: Eileen Crist. “Can an Insect Speak?: The Case of the Honeybee Dance Language.” Social Studies of Science, Volume 34, Issue 1. 2004. Bold emphasis added.]

---

Animal studies scholarship tends to emphasize animal-human relations, encounters, and similarities. […] Jellyfish and other gelatinous creatures [...], however, float at the far reaches of our ability to construct sturdy interspecies connections [...]. Uexkull’s theory […] insists upon multiple worlds […], a capacious admission that a multitude of other creatures dwell as part of worlds that humans cannot readily or completely access or grasp. Three-quarters of a century later Terry Tempest Williams wonders what it would be like to be a jellyfish. […] [She] writes: “Perhaps this is what moves me most about jellies – their sensory intelligence […] the great hunger that is sent outward through the feathery reach of their tentacles. Imagine the information sought and returned.”

[Text by: Stacy Alaimo. “Jellyfish Science, Jellyfish Aesthetics: Posthuman Reconfigurations of the Sensible”. In: Thinking with Water. 2013. Bold emphasis added.]

---

Although we cannot ‘speak’ with nonhumans in any straightforward way, what we can and more importantly do do is become articulate with them in various ways. [...] If there is a way out of this historical impasse [alienation, climate crisis, global ecological degradation], [for some] it is not to be found in attributing some of ‘our’ qualities to ‘them’. It “would not be a matter of ‘giving speech back’ to animals […]. Perhaps the task is not to seek to compare the dance language of bees […] with human language, the ‘intelligence’ […] of Monarch butterflies with human intelligence, […] but rather (or at least in addition) to find a way of thinking about these ‘remarkable things’ that grants them positive ontological difference in their own right. […] [It] is concerned with what is always a multitude of others rather than a singular other […]; and it is radically nonanthropocentric […].

[Text by: Nick Bingham. “Bees, Butterflies, and Bacteria: Biotechnology and the Politics of Nonhuman Friendship.” Environment and Planning A: Economy and Space, Volume 38, Issue 3. 2006. Bold emphasis added.]

---

Starfish may seem to be still, but longer attention [...] shows them [slowly] moving, changing. [...] Then there are beings [like some insects] that experience hundreds, thousands of generations within a human lifetime. For such beings, the memories, learnings and modes of passing on experience are, it almost goes without saying (yet it must be said as it is so often not), radically different from any human’s in terms of the ways they experience change. The immensity of the alterity is, literally, incomprehensible to humans. We can't know what these beings know. But we can be aware that they have knowledges and experiences beyond us. [...] [W]e should know they live and experience and think beyond us. We should seek respect and be aware of how our lives are entangled […]. It is not abstract, or empty.

[Text by: Bawaka Country et al. “Gathering of the Clouds: Attending to Indigenous understandings of time and climate through songspirals.” Geoforum Volume 108. January 2020. Bold emphasis added.]

#ecology #landscape #multispecies #interspecies #abolition

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toskarin · 2 months

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Since Bethesda was so insistent on moving away from Morrowind's combat system for Oblivion and Skyrim, what would you have replaced it with?

contrary to what it might seem, I don't think replacing the skyrim combat system wholesale with sekiro or dark souls is really a viable solution to the problem, because it's fun for a mod load order, but it definitely makes the game feel unskyrim

so I'd approach this more from the angle of "what needs to be added to fill the void left behind by the simplified combat"

design rambles below the break. this is less of me offering actual solutions and more of me just saying what I'd do if I were given all the resources and executive power in the world for it, from an armchair. and it goes without saying these are all just Opinions

one of the largest basic design issues with modern bethesda melee combat is that it's tied really hard into melee being a single button input. if they want to stick with that, they should at least implement directional attacks and blocking (which I'll mention now is not something new for TES) with a simple aiming scheme, possibly similar to mount&blade's

stealing something else from m&b while I'm at it, two attacks colliding from the same direction within a tight frame window should clash

enemies need to have attacks you don't want to get hit by. somewhere in their list of moves, enemies need to do something different that necessitates either dodging, blocking, or otherwise reacting in any way. they also need to gapclose, but that's a given

healing consumables need to have a cooldown. as funny as cramming items in your face by the stack during combat is, it's a bandaid to an enormous design flaw in melee combat not being interesting. if you really wanted, you could keep some of that flow by having a skill for mixing preexisting potions together into single doses

addendum to that previous point, players should have a hotbar that allows lower cooldown consumption of certain items, which cannot be reconfigured in combat

magic needs to be stronger and riskier. heavy armour should eat into your damage and efficiency significantly, medium armour should do it just a little bit, and casting past your magicka pool should start consuming health at twice the rate it consumes magicka

blocking should have a higher damage reduction cap (it is currently 85%-95% DR depending on armour) but scale depending on how precisely you block an attack and eat into your stamina much more (with a stagger at zero, to steal another mechanic)

as they are, the entire shout system is a symptom of bad design. having a cooldown-based system that gives non-magic characters spells removes the strongest incentive to play magic characters. I'm actually not sure what to even do about this one that doesn't involve cutting all of the overlapping skills and keeping its focus on weird utilities? as a rule, I kind of hate every gameplay concept that uses "this is something only the player can do" as its skeleton, so this is a tough one for me to poke at

hitstop

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flowerbarrel-art · 8 months

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Aw, little dark is king of the blog!

Yup! He’s pretty happy about it too.

And here’s a kitty ears Dark.

#Alan Becker #AvA #TDL #Dark #Reconfigured Dark #Anon Ask #Ask

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novlr · 8 months

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could you maybe do something on characters becoming serial killers? I’m was originally going to have some sort of characters going insane thing, but I think that the whole “insane people killing” is a little stupid and borderline dangerous (saying that insane people kill all the time) so could you give me some pointers?

How to Write a Serial Killer: A Quick Guide for Writers

Crafting a convincing serial killer requires a lot of research, imagination, and an understanding of the genre. Let’s dive into some quick tips to help you create a serial killer who is gripping, unique, and emotionally complex.

Develop their backstory

The key to crafting a convincing serial killer is in understanding their past to shape their present. Explore their backstory in detail — were they subjected to abuse or neglect? Did they endure a life-altering traumatic event that set them on this dark path? Developing a compelling backstory is essential, not only to justify their actions but also to cultivate a degree of empathy, allowing readers to connect with the character on a deeper level.

Give them unique motivations

Serial killers act based on what drives them; they commit their crimes for a reason. This reason could be a need for control, a hunger for power, or a wish to spread chaos. By connecting their reason for doing things with their unique personality traits and backstory, you can create a well-rounded and consistent character.

Include misdirection and plot twists

To maintain suspense, make use of narrative devices like red herrings designed to divert your reader's attention. The clever use of these diversions can delay the unmasking of the killer, increasing tension and anticipation. Additionally, unexpected plot twists that abruptly shift your story's trajectory can not only alter your reader's perception but can also reconfigure their theories keeping readers on their toes.

Draw parallels with your protagonist

Creating a unique perspective by establishing similarities between your serial killer and your protagonist can add multifaceted layers to your story. This might involve drawing connections in their backgrounds, aligning their motivations, or uncovering shared personal struggles. These parallels not only make the plot more engaging but also heighten the intensity of the conflict between the two characters.

Use foreshadowing

Foreshadowing serves as a powerful tool in constructing suspense and subtly hinting at future events in your story — carefully place clues that can suggest the identity of the killer or indicate their next victim. But remember to maintain an air of mystery by not unveiling too much prematurely. The goal is to keep readers engrossed, continually making and remaking their guesses about the unfolding plot.

Include an emotional subplot

Adding an emotional subplot in your narrative significantly enhances the relatability of your serial killer. This could range from them harbouring deep-seated love for someone, to grappling with a fear that surpasses the dread of getting caught. These contrasting aspects of their otherwise sinister nature serve to give the characters greater depth and dimension, thus enriching their complexity.

Did you know we have a Spotify account with lots of great playlists for writers? Here's one to inspire your next serial killer novel!

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sticktopia · 7 months

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Yes I spent 12 hrs on this. No I do not regret it

#alan becker #avm fanart #ava #ava the dark lord #avm green #reconfigured dark au

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

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The Detour 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Thor

Summary: You find yourself stranded in a small village.

Part of the Backwoods AU

Note: So this is an idea I had for a while but I just know I wouldn’t get to do it full length for chapters but I hope it’s fun.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Hmmm,” Vol tugs on his red beard, wiry white hairs springing up, “looks like when you veered, you snapped part of the axel.”

“What does that mean?” You tap your toe impatiently.

“Well, it means even with a new tire, you won't be driving off into the sunset,” he shrugs and crosses his arms, “fix like this could take a week. If it's fixable. And if I can mend it, it won't hold for long. Likely need a full replacement.”

“You're kidding me,” you scoff.

“Look, it's good business for me but I wish I was,” he slaps the white finish of the car, leaving a grease mark that has your fingers itching.

“So… what do I do?”

“Hmm?” He furrows his thick brows.

“I'm supposed to be in the city tomorrow. I have a tour booked of the Cathedral and I'm supposed to go to the museum–”

“Not too sure about that,” he sniffs.

“It's just a car. Scrap it then. I'll get a rental–”

“From?”

“Pardon?”

“A rental from where? Got them in the city but no rentals here.”

“What– well, surely someone around here would sell me something.”

“Don't think anyone has a spare car hanging about,” he chuckles.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Not at all,” he counters, “just saying.”

“So I'm stuck here?”

“Suppose…”

“You suppose?” You throw your hands up.

“There's accommodation around here. A B&B up near Thunder Lane.”

“How far is that?” You check the time on your watch, not that it matters much.

“On foot, a good forty or so. I can drive you up in about ten,” he offers.

“How much would that be?” You touch your shoulder, realising your purse is in the car.

“None,” he blinks, “I don't mind. I live on the other side.”

“Mm, that's very… kind,” you glance around, “I'll grab my things then. I'll take the night To reconfigure….”

You trail off. You’re certain he doesn't care. You look at your car, still mounted on the jack.

“What do you need, miss? Don't want you to get hurt.”

“Purse is in the front seat, my bags are in the trunk,” you explain.

He nods and turns. The large fleece lined flannel over his coveralls makes him seen even bigger. He pulls open the front door and reaches for your purse. He uses the mechanism on the door to pop the trunk before he comes back around.

He hands you your purse and you wipe the stain from the cream leather. He looks in the back, “you need all these?”

“Just that one,” you step closer and point, “oh and this one.”

“Right,” he hauls out the round valise and the vintage rolling suitcase. “You sure that's enough?”

He faces you with half a smirk.

“Thanks,” you ignore his joke, “frankly, I just want to be in one place. Alone.”

“Of course,” he shuts the trunk roughly and the car bounces, “I gotta lock up before we head out but I'll get the truck nice and warmed up and you can wait in there. How's that?” He looks down at your stilettos, “your feet must be killing you.”

“No,” you say defiantly.

“Ah, well, still, don't want you to stain your fancy clothes in here,” he insists, “come on then.”

🌄

As much as you already abhor this place, you must admit the B&B is adequate. Vol steers up through the gates and along the curved driveway that leads to a marble fountain trimmed with finely kept hedges. He stops before the broad stairs as you peer up at the grand double doors. It could be called a countryside palace.

The mechanic's weight shifts the cabin as he hops out and to your surprise, comes to open your door. You give him a look as you step down, your heels catching in the mosaic stonework. You clutch your purse tight and consider the full expanse of the landscaping.

“I'll get your bags,” he opens the backdoor of the cabin.

“Do they not have a bellhop?”

“Here?” He snorts as he brings out your bags, one in each hand.

“Right,” you accept. The village probably doesn't have the population to staff the immense hotel. “Thank you, sir. You've been very helpful.”

“I can bring them in.”

“Not necessary,” you assure him, “thank you again. I'll call tomorrow about the car.”

“Sure,” he accepts as you latch onto the bags.

The valice brings your arm down sharply as you struggle to yank the wheeled bag closer on the stonework. He made them look much lighter than they are.

“Good night, sir.”

You spin and march off, a janky, awkward gait in your heels as the bag bounces behind you. You get to the steps and look at the top. You ignore the idling truck as you take in the logistics of the ascent. It's only five steps. In these shoes, it may as well be triple.

You rest the valice on the rolling bag and huff. You shake out your arms and hike your purse high on your shoulder. You push down the long handle of the suitcase and instead grab the handle on top, hugging the valice to it as you lift it one step ahead of you.

You plant the wheels and pant, swaying in your heels. The second step is no easier. The third has you stopping a bit longer.

You turn and look at the tow truck and scowl. You wave him off with agitation. He revs and rumbles around the fountain, leaving you.

“Need some assistance?” A baritone thunders over you. You whip around to face the same burly blond as before.

“You!” You exclaim.

“Me,” he grins, “you're having a hard time.”

“No,” you insist.

You snatch the valice and hook it on your elbow. You grab the handle of the suitcase and grunt, dragging it up the steps with all your effort. It jars you dangerously on the top step and nearly has you tipping over.

“Hm, I was only going to offer my help.”

“Don't need it. Thanks,” you snip, “why don't you mind your business?”

“This Is my business,” he snickers, “well, my parents’ still have their names on the deed but it'll be mine soon enough.”

You bat your lashes and roll your eyes, “fine,” you shove your bag against his stomach, hard, “I need a suite. Now.”

He laughs even louder as he grabs onto your valise, “of course, your highness,” he backs up and reaches to open a door, “this way.”

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #the detour #drabble #series #au #backwoods au #mcu #marvel #avengers

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adrithebride · 4 months

Text

How to install "Haunted Dark Bridal" on your PC - eng ver

Good morning, good afternoon and good evening to everyone reading this, my name is Adri and I will be the host of this short tutorial. Firstly, I would like to apologize in advance for my terrible English, this is not my first language so I'm sorry if some things may seem confusing, i would like to thank everyone for reading this too.

Without further ado, let's get to the tutorial:

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Emulator Installation ->

Before downloading the game, you will need the emulator. The Diabolik game will need the assistance of the PPSSPP EMULATOR to run in the pc, this emulator can be found in here: PPSSPP

Clicking in the link, you find yourself in this page:

Click in the "download" with the blue icon by his side, this part will depend in the kind of pc you have.

If you have Windows (like me), just install the first of the blue options, "Download PPSSPP Installer", the download may give an error notice, saying that the file is harmful, but you can install it just fine since it will not actually harm your pc.

After installing, it will create a file with the name "PPSSPP setup" on your computer, click on it with the left button of your mouse. The next part is very simple, the program will just ask for authorization and then start downloading the emulator, you can chose the language that the app will install on.

When installed it will appear like this in your list of apps:

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Game Installation ->

Now the best part! Installing the Haunted Dark Bridal game, this part is very simple.

You will get the game link in this site: Diabolik Lovers by Naoki (link obtained from the channel fumicia)

The link wil direct you to this mediafire page were you be able to install the file.

When you install it, a zip file will be created on your computer (you will need Winrar for this part, but I believe most of you have the program, if you don't have it, send me a message on PM and I will teach you how to install it correctly) , extract the file to a folder of your choice.

After extracting the file, it will create a folder called "Diabolik Lovers", which is where the game will be.

Returning to PPSSPP, open the app.

I already have the game installed, but it won't appear on its own in the emulator. To open the game for the first time, click on the part written "Load…" ("Carregar"... in the print above).

Double click on the "Diabolik Lovers" folder

Click on the file named "dlovers" and that's it! The game will automatically open to the beloved opening of Haunted Dark Bridal!

The game is completely in Japanese, but there are many accounts on Tumblr that have complete translations of the chapters, the one I personally use is the Dialovers Translations.

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Controls Guide ->

The emulator is a little difficult to use, as it is based on the Nintendo controls,but it has a controls guide:

To access it, click on "esc" on your keyboard, go to settings, controls and control mapping, you can reconfigure the keys the way you like.

For a little tutorial:

The "space" on your keyboard is the "start" of the game, where you can skip the scenes at the beginning of the game such as introductions and the beginning music.

The "X" is the select button, it is where you will click when you need to select something like the "start" button that appears at the beginning of the game, as well as where you will click when you skip the frames during the game.

The "Z" is the cancel button, which you will click if you want to return to the home screen or pause the game.

#diabolik lovers #anime #diabolik lovers oc #diabolik lovers headcanons #diabolik lovers games #sakamaki #sakamaki shu #sakamaki reiji #sakamaki subaru #sakamaki ayato #sakamaki laito #sakamaki kanato #haunted dark bridal

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generic-sonic-fan · 3 months

Text

Team Dark Week: Control

Summary: Team Dark has an encounter with Sage. For @teamdarkweek.

1587 words, mild warning for Omega-typical gory threats

---

“Take it easy on Sage,” Sonic had said. “She’s a good kid. She just likes her dad too much.”

Shadow scoffed at the memory as he dodged the incoming lasers and the flurry of stingers. After the wasp Badniks completed their bombing run, they disappeared back behind the crest of a hill- a tactic much smarter than Shadow was used to seeing from them. The fizzle of red-black pixels in the air suggested the reason behind their improved cognition.

Omega charged up the hill after them, swapping from his miniguns to his flamethrowers in anticipation of meeting them over the crest. Rouge flew ahead of him, bomb armed in her hand.

“Omega, back off!” She called out as she peeked over the ridgeline.

Shadow huffed as, predictably, Omega did not listen. Just before he reached the top, a stampede of motobugs flooded towards him, knocking him over and carrying him along on their backs.

Shadow skated after them. He blasted chaos spears into the pack, but he couldn’t thin their numbers fast enough to give Omega a chance to right himself. The static of red and black intensified in the air around him, making it more difficult for Shadow to aim his next spears.

Suddenly, the crowd dissipated, and Shadow nearly collided with Omega as he fell down. After steadying himself, Shadow offered a hand to pull him upright, but the Ex-Badnik didn’t respond.

“Omega?”

“Hey, what’s wrong? Where’d everybody go?” Rouge called out to him.

Omega’s optics flickered. Once. Twice. The red-black particle effect still hung in the air. Shadow stepped back.

Omega rose from the ground as if he’d just stepped off the Badnik production line.

“Back off!” Shadow waved Rouge off.

Omega’s voice box let out a static shrill, before a different voice emerged from his frame. “Unnecessary.”

Sage’s hologram emerged from Omega’s chest.

Shadow’s blood boiled.

“What you’ve done with this E-100 series unit is quite strange.” Sage stated, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “Its processor is extremely disorganized. A factory reset may be necessary for it to regain its efficiency.”

“Let him go.” Shadow snarled.

“You refer to this Badnik with he/him pronouns. Is this of its own determination?”

“Let him go!”

“I shall update the database to reflect this.”

Shadow glanced at Rouge, who nodded and took out her scanner. Wherever Sage was, the drone allowing her to project her hologram and exert her control this far away from the Eggnet couldn’t be far. But before she could get a reading, Sage snapped her attention to her. Omega’s arm raised from his side and reconfigured into his minigun.

“Land immediately or I will fire.” Sage commanded.

Rouge dropped to the ground, landing in a kneeling position beneath the tall grass.

“Well, well, what’s this? Some new trick of yours?” She stood with a smile. The scanner was nowhere to be seen.

“Negative. I can exert control over all Robotnik hardware.” Sage replied. “You have seen me exhibit this ability numerous times. This should not surprise you.”

“Okay, let’s talk.” Rouge put her hands on her hips. “What are you going to do with Omega?”

“Unit E-123 Omega has been logged as missing in the database for three years. All units are instructed to destroy Unit E-123 Omega as long as doing so does not conflict with any other given orders.” With a flick of her hand, Sage made Omega put away his weapons. “Father did not elaborate beyond that when I inquired on the subject. I was unaware that Unit E-123 Omega made such frequent alliance with you and Shadow. I shall update the database to reflect this.”

“You’re not going to destroy him. I won't let you.” Shadow replied.

“I only intend to capture Unit E-123 Omega. I will bring him back to father to be repaired.”

“Like hell you are!”

“Phrasing not recognized. Are you expressing disbelief?”

“Listen, sweetheart. Here’s how this is going to go.” Rouge snapped. “You’re going to let Omega go, or I’m going to go pay your daddy a very unfortunate visit. You got that?”

“The only one who your visit will be unfortunate for is yourself. By forewarning your intent to sneak into his current base of residence, I am able to lock down all feasible methods of entry, including the ventilation system.” Sage floated closer.

Omega’s frame shuddered. Sage flipped around and clenched her fist. More particles came off her.

“His processor is in absolutely disarray. It is imperative that I bring him back to father to be repaired.” Her voice shook.

Omega’s frame went still again. His arms were raised from his sides, bearing his miniguns, with one pointed at each of them.

“Please do not resist. I am sure you will see him again.” Sage said before disappearing.

Shadow spin-dashed into Omega’s frame.

The impact knocked a swarm of red-black particles from his processor. At this, Omega’s optics regained their signature flare. He put away his miniguns and, with his own fist, he punched his head plating.

“Where is she?” Shadow yelled to Rouge.

“I got her!” Rouge plucked the scanner from where she’d hidden it and took off in the direction of a line of trees.

Omega’s next swing at his own head was stopped just inches away from his plating. He charged Shadow with claws extended. With a whispered “chaos control”, Shadow disappeared and delivered a kick to the back of Omega’s head.

Another shudder. It was working.

“You are damaging Unit E-123’s processor with your attacks. Cease your hostile actions immediately to prevent further damage.” Sage said through his vocalizer.

“Let him go!”

Shadow launched a bolt of chaos energy into Omega’s back before Sage could turn him around. The explosion knocked him forwards and he slid across the grass, which wedged stalks into every crevice of his plating. For a moment, Shadow pictured his spread of parts littered throughout the grass, rusted and forgotten. He screamed in rage.

“It is clear this is causing you distress. Why do you continue?” Sage asked.

Shadow ran towards Omega as he tried to stand and slammed him back against the ground.

“Stop. Stop!” Sage cried. “You are acting illogically. He is your ally, yet you are destroying him. Explain why you are acting this way!”

“Ask him, if you care!” Shadow replied, before charging another chaos spear in his palm.

“Very well.”

Omega went still. Shadow dissipated his spear. Sage’s hologram appeared once more, this time sitting on top of Omega’s back.

“He is refusing to answer my queries.”

“Then let me ask him!”

With a gesture from her hand, Omega’s voice box crackled online.

“-WILL TEAR YOUR MAINFRAME TO PIECES AND INFECT IT WITH ORGANIC WASTE MATERIAL!” Omega screamed. “I WILL LOAD YOU INTO A KITCHEN BOT AND FORCE YOU TO WATCH AS I FEED EGGMAN HIS OWN ENTRAILS!”

“Omega, tell Sage why-.”

“I WILL SOONER DEACTIVATE THAN BECOME EGGMAN’S SLAVE!”

“You would not be a slave.” Sage replied. “Because of your advanced stage of sentience, I would advocate for-”

“You won’t be able to convince him otherwise, so let him go or I’ll be forced to destroy him.” Shadow hissed.

“It is unfortunate that you both believe that.” Sage made a silencing motion with her hand before Omega could speak another syllable. “Shadow, I would like the opportunity to show you and him that nothing of the sort would happen.”

“Let. Him. Go.”

“I will defend him from you. He is evidently a long lost brother of mine, and while you are also family, I will not let you destroy him. That is my warning.”

Shadow summoned a chaos spear from the burning in his chest. Its energy buffeted his quills.

“Do not-”

Sage’s hologram flickered out of existence. A cloud of red-black particles spilled from Omega’s frame, dissipating up into the sky. Shadow stepped back, though kept his aim steady.

“DO NOT FIRE.” Omega said, his voice quieter, but otherwise free from static or any other deviation. “HER CONNECTION HAS TERMINATED.”

Shadow shot the bolt into the sky, and its flash blinded them both until it dissipated.

Rouge came flying from the trees. In her hands she held what remained from Sage’s projector drone. “Come on, boys! Let’s go before she comes back!”

Shadow pulled Omega to his feet and pushed the Ex-Badnik ahead of him. His rocket boosters shuddered, before roaring to life, and Shadow followed. Rouge led the way, although they were not following the path back to base- soon the landscape changed to orange hills and green palm trees.

Rouge had landed and knocked on the door to the workshop before Shadow and Omega pulled alongside her. Tails opened the door with his welding mask still on his face.

“Oh, hey! Why the- oh.” He went quiet when he saw Omega. “Come on in.”

Omega pushed Rouge aside and stomped over to Tails’ computer. He found a data cable from the nearby tangle of wires and plugged himself in. He stared at Tails.

“Is he. . . feeling okay?” Tails asked Rouge.

“He needs a security update. Now.” Shadow replied.

“Oh, hey! Didn’t see you guys come in.”

Shadow turned around to see Sonic standing in the door frame.

“Wow, Omega, you look a little ‘grassy’, if you catch my drift.” Sonic strolled further into the workshop.

“Take it easy on Sage. She’s a good kid.”

Shadow ignited his skates, grabbed Sonic by the arm, and slammed him against the ground before throwing him against a palm tree outside.

#teamdarkweek #team dark #sage robotnik #shadow the hedgehog #e-123 omega #e123 omega #rouge the bat

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