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screechthemighty · 5 months

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Titanfall fic writing is back, babey!! Fun fact, I started writing this *checks notes* literal years ago, but only just now circled back to it now that I'm filling in the holes in the Titanfall part of my Respawn Cinematic Universe. I will be eventually circling back to the stuff that happens after The Citadel, don't worry! I just wanted to get this one out of the way (again: literal years). AO3 link will be in a reblog, but you can read the first chapter below!

crash and burn (and then return again) | a titanfall 2 fanficpart one

cw: vomiting, loss/grief, shutdown, references to alcoholism

Things would’ve gone a lot differently if he were a in movie. For starters, Cooper wouldn’t have passed out within five minutes of arriving on the main battleship.

That was his own fault. His body had been giving him signs it was going to quit on him the whole flight back. He was shaky, almost dizzy, nauseous, and it felt like someone had replaced his brain with piles of stuffing. Cooper had figured it was just the adrenaline. Been there, done that. He’d be fine once he had something to eat and some real sleep. He didn’t say anything because it wasn’t a big deal.

Turned out it, was a big deal.

His memories of what exactly happened were hazy. Commander Briggs was there, he knew that, and Robert Taube. He remembered there were a lot of other people, and that he thought it was all those eyes on him (even in a positive light) that were making him feel worse. He tried to be subtle about excusing himself. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded or not; he thought someone followed him, but he couldn’t remember if it was Commander Briggs or Taube or both. Maybe it was neither. But he was pretty sure he remembered someone asking if he was okay, and replying that he didn’t feel so hot.

That must’ve been when he passed out, because his next concrete memory was lying on a moving gurney and someone checking his pulse “...repeated physical contact with an unknown energy source, we have no idea…” someone was saying.

Cooper risked opening his eyes. Commander Briggs was there, Taube, too, and a nurse, and a medical droid. It wasn’t that big of an audience, but it felt like a whole stadium of people once he realized what happened. “Did I throw up on anyone?” he mumbled.

“No,” Taube replied bluntly. “You about to?”

“...uhm…”

He must’ve gone grey or green or whatever color you turned when you were about to puke, because Taube swore and got out of the way. At least that way, Cooper didn’t throw up on anyone. Puking on the floor in front of his new CO, a respected war hero, and two medics was still in the top ten most humiliating moments of his life. There wasn’t much in his stomach to throw up, just water and one and a half energy bars. But apparently his body really didn’t want it.

There was a hand on his shoulder, someone asking him something, but Cooper barely registered the question. He stared down at the floor, eyes defocused. This had happened before, right? Fracture? Yeah. Fracture. He’d hit his head, suffered a concussion. Did he have another concussion? He’d fallen so many times on Typhon. He’d thought the jump kit and the helmet would take the worst of it but…hell, he didn’t know. He had no clue what he was doing. “Shit,” he muttered.

“Were you given any medication during Broadsword?” asked the med droid. Its voice was neutral in a calming way, but higher pitched than BT’s had been. Thinking about BT made his stomach churn. “Exposure to any other energy sources?”

Had he? So much had happened. He could barely keep track. “Uhm...s-sansufentynal. After my drop pod landed. And...Lastimosa…” The name tasted bitter in his mouth. “…gave me something, I don’t know what. He said it might knock me out, but I’d feel better once I woke up. I was in a power chamber, there was some radiation, but I think it wasn’t so long that my suit couldn’t handle it.”

“Understood.” The med droid began speaking in softer tones to the medic, something about blood work and scans; Cooper was too busy trying to control his still-revolting stomach to really pay attention.

Am I dying? Did I really survive all that bullshit just to die like this?

“You’re not dying,” said Taube roughly. Cooper looked up at him, confused. Had he said that out loud? How out of it was he right now? “Just keep it together, kid. We’re gonna get you help.”

He was the one resting a hand on Cooper’s shoulder. The reassuring pressure of the grip contrasted with the way Taube actually looked: worn down, five o’clock shadow, bags under his eyes. He looked just as ready to pass out as Cooper felt.

Cooper couldn’t blame him for that. It had been a hell of a long day. Using the past tense didn’t feel right, though. A day like that couldn’t just be…over. Not like this. Not with…

He lay back down and shut his eyes tightly.

He can’t be gone.

How can he just be gone?

The thought kept echoing in his head as they dragged him into a private room in the medbay. Cooper went through the motions, sitting up, letting them look him over, responding to any questions he knew the answers to. The answers kept getting shorter and shorter; if that concerned the medics, Cooper barely noticed. Everything was growing more distant—sounds, sensations, the overall feeling of reality. All he wanted to do was curl up somewhere quiet and dark and sleep.

Sleep and wake up in a world where BT wasn’t gone.

Cooper had gone quiet.

Barker hadn’t noticed it at first. He’d only realized because he’d happened to glance in Cooper’s direction. He was hunched over, face buried in his hands, not making a sound even as his shoulders shook slightly. Barker wasn’t shocked—after everything Cooper had been through, having an emotional crash with the physical one wasn’t out of the blue or anything.

Should I do something?

Barker barely knew the guy from Adam, but he had a feeling Briggs didn’t either. That might’ve been part of the problem, now that he thought about it. All that shit and no one he could talk to about it. Still, one of us should say something. Briggs was still talking intensely with the human medic, and the bot didn’t look like the reassuring type. It was either interrupt or…

He sighed. Ah, screw it. “Hey, Cooper?” Barker said carefully as he stepped forward.

Cooper didn’t reply.

Shit. “Cooper?” Barker repeated, a bit louder this time. When that didn’t get a response, he knew it was time to switch tactics. Cooper had been a rifleman before this; maybe he just needed a good prod from a CO to get him out of it. “Pilot,” Barker tried, trying to force his voice back into tones he hadn’t used since the IMC.

Still nothing.

Except he hadn’t been pilot for longer than a few days, right? Field promotion, no time to get used to it. So maybe…

“Hey, Rifleman.”

Cooper straightened up immediately, shoulders squared, hands dropping down from his face. “Sir,” he said. His eyes were pink, still wet with tears. He didn’t seem to register who Barker was at first; his body just responded to the rank. Muscle memory. Hell of a thing.

Barker had Cooper’s attention all right, but now he didn’t know what to do with it.

“You, uh…” Barker took another few steps forward and clumsily rested a hand on Cooper’s shoulder. “You okay?”

The kid looked at him like he was trying to figure out the right answer to the question.

That look didn’t last long. Whatever it was Cooper was trying to press down and re-shape into an acceptable answer shattered like a glass bottle. His composure and decorum went with it. Next thing Barker knew, the kid’s face was pressed against his chest as his body heaved with audible sobs.

Damn it, I am not equipped for this.

Though he may have been more prepared than everyone else there. Briggs looked just as caught off-guard as he did, and the medbot wasn’t going to be any help. The flesh and blood medic looked lost, too. Barker shot them all a baffled look as he clumsily patted Cooper’s shoulder. You’re gonna let me do this? Really? “’S’okay. Let it out.” Don’t worry about me telling anyone. I will definitely be drinking enough to forget this. “I’m sorry.”

The words tasted sharp, bitter. I get it. That part was left unspoken, but he did. The empty hole in your head, in your soul. You formed bonds quickly in combat. Cooper might not have had the years of connection Barker had with Juliet, but that wouldn’t make it hurt less. Someone sacrificing themselves for you never went down easily.

Barker gritted his teeth. Definitely drinking tonight.

“You’re safe now,” he said instead. “We’ve got you, kid.”

Cooper’s sobs slowed eventually. He let go of Barker’s jumpsuit, instead tightly hugging himself. He rocked slightly in place—self-soothing, if Barker had to guess—and his eyes stayed clenched shut. “Can’t,” he choked out.

“Can’t what?”

“It…mmph.” His shoulders hunched more tightly, like he was trying to shrink into himself. “Bright.”

Briggs finally snapped out of it and went to dim the lights. The medbot said something to the human medic, who cursed quietly and started digging around through some nearby drawers. Barker, meanwhile, crouched in front of Cooper, trying to catch his gaze. “That better?” A pause. A nod. “Anything hurt? Like, about to drop dead hurt?”

Cooper hugged himself more tightly. Damn it, I’m making things worse again. Barker didn’t think this was a panic attack; he’d seen plenty of those before. So what is it? What’s wrong?

The medic nudged him aside gently and held out something to Cooper. “Here,” she said. “Do you think you can use this?”

She small tablet she’d passed him had an application open with a bunch of buttons. Barker could see an alphabet, and some standard words and phrases. Cooper took the tablet, then stared at the application as if trying to register what he was looking at. After a lengthy pause, he tapped one of the options.

“No.”

Okay, they were getting somewhere. “No, nothing hurts?” Barker guessed. Cooper nodded. “What do you need, kid?”

A pause. This time, Cooper tapped at the letters.

“Alone.”

…yeah. Fair.

“Can we clear the room, guys?” the medic asked. To Cooper, she added, “We’ll be just outside. Come get us if you need anything, okay?”

She seemed confident that Cooper wouldn’t hurt himself or have a heart attack, so Barker followed the others outside. He took one more glance at Cooper as he stepped out, and almost wished he hadn’t. The freshly minted pilot had hunched back over, the tablet hugged tightly to his chest. It was something no one should see, least of all the drunk who’d only just met the poor guy.

Barker looked away. Jack Cooper was going to be the talk of the town when they got back to Harmony. The least they could do was let him grieve in private while he still could.

#titanfall #titanfall 2 #fic: crash and burn (and then return again)

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buckyclevens · 2 months

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a couple old posts of mine from the heyday of the hbo war fandom days have gotten notes again and i'm like aww that was so much fun back then:) but yeah of course the fandom crashed and burned as badly as it did lmfao this is tumblr babey

#also made me realize those days were uhhhhh like 7 years ago???#huge shout out to the hbo war moots ✌️#julia.txt

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guu · 2 years

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one of the things i really like about silent hill as opposed to other horror games or movies is like

you get /called/ to silent hill. you think you’re gonna have a normal day and suddenly you swerve to avoid hitting a little girl, run into a burning house to rescue her charred corpse and bam. you’re in silent hill babey. personal nightmares consume you now. maybe you don’t even LIVE in silent hill but you’re locked in ur fucking apartment which is haunted and you have to climb through a fucking hole in our bathroom and bam

you’re in silent hill babey! this has nothing to do with you how sad.

maybe you killed your brother and went to war and forgot. bam. watch your mom torn asunder. maybe you were in prison and the bus crashed in silent hill. have fun throwing your items on accident and not even getting the somber piano songs. time to run from a scarey boogeyman. scream.

except james sunderland. i love you babygirl but you were so dumb.

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forest-babeys · 2 years

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howly fuck that took long, uh

Hello! It is the mun!! After like.. way too fuckin’ long, they have returned! Your king has not abandoned you! Mun has found their password again- okay let’s just drop the mun 3rd person talk, this is serious.

So, where to begin.

I thought I lost this account for good after so many horrible things started happening at once. Breakups, familial death, mentally draining and abusive relationships, grooming, the WORKS, practically everything bad to happen to a young teen happened, but i kept on the down low so the blog could thrive. And it worked, I guess but I had a breaking point. And thus, 7 months ago the blog was left to collect dust without explanation. After a while, I wanted to come back, but..

yeah, i forgot my password.

In the end though, I suppose it was worth it, not having the choice to come back early. Without Tumblr I was able to focus on me for once. Improve, branch out, all the jazz normal artists do without the creepy creeps breathing down my neck 24/7 about what I should draw and how I should draw it. (You can’t really escape those anywhere, but holy HELL they were BOUNTIFUL in my time on tumblr) It was nice being away from some of the less than pleasant acquaintances I made and just.. starting fresh again. Off this damn app. Off social media period.

I guess you could say it was what I needed, to be away for a while. Maybe i should have stayed gone. But- in the end, I felt bad leaving everything behind. All of you askers, mostly. It was probably the right thing to do to get away from the app in general at the time, but..

Kitsune, Astronaut, Ghost, Screamer, and let us not forget the man, the myth, the anon, SkateBoard Anon, the thought of you all brought me back one last time. I couldn’t just rightfully leave you in the dark on my status. I mean, some of you thought I died, how could I just let you think that?? Anyways,

You guys built me up to be someone I could’ve never imagined being. I felt like I was someone when I came on this app, which is something I hadn’t felt in years. And even if my stories were bad, and I didn’t really have any clear end in sight, and there were several blogs before this one that I dragged you all through, i had fun with this. My silly little time on this app. I had an absolute blast doing it all with you guys by my side. This was my first taste of internet fame, and it was the best kind of fame a dummy like me could’ve asked for. A small app fame where the community i had felt like friends and family rather than strangers on the internet.

I want to thank you all for sticking through the ramblings and doodles of a sad, young teen and turn it into something a slightly less sad, older teen can look back on fondly. And if you’re still here after all of this, you are absolutely nutty, and thank you for caring so much about the artist.

Unfortunately, I don’t think I will be continuing the ask blog. It was fun while it lasted, but I think I wrecked this train the second i kept going after Millennial Tree Cookie was saved that one time. Slice of life should’ve stayed slice of life, really.

I’ll leave any other socials I own below in case you still want to follow the works of this ol geezer. I have to warn you, I haven’t gotten much better at the social media thing. And if not, then this is farewell.

This is the end of the Forest Babeys blog. I’m sorry it had to crash and burn before whatever “grand finale” I could make up was made, but I just.. can’t look at this blog the same way I used to anymore. I’ll still leave it up as always, new readers can come and go whenever they please and see the journeys we had, maybe come up with their own, better interpretations of what we made here. I leave that to you.

——

mun’s instagram (currently active) @konjkitkat

#mun rambles #whoever’s still reading this; godspeed.#i hope you enjoyed this crazy ride at the end of everything #and I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for it

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h0dgep0dgee · 1 year

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I made another one! This is kind of a part 2 to "Not Magic," an oc fic I wrote a couple of weeks ago (i think, time is a weird soup).

Summary thingy time!!! WWII is a thing that happens. Calliope throws a bit of a tantrum and does fire about it. Context for her wonky skeleton lookin' hand! This was somewhat inspired by the "Martin does arson" bit of TMA episode 114.

Ok, Actual Writing Time Babey!!!

Not Heroes

Calliope was not a hero.

Her siblings were not meant to be heroes, either.

Because heroes always die at the end.

Heroes fight the monsters, and their stories are told, and they die. The gunslinger is shot, or bitten, or starved. The sea captain died. The pilot crashed.

And now Pappy says they will be heroes. He talks about honor, about protecting those who need it most. He says they will be home soon, much sooner than before. He says no one will get hurt this time.

Calliope stopped listening. We're being sent off like lambs to the slaughter, like heroes to the storyteller, she thinks, turning, marching, almost running out of the room and down the twisted halls of the manor. Not listening to her father, still rambling on. Not listening to her siblings calling her back. Not listening at all. He'll send us off, and we'll go, and we'll fight, and they'll die, and someone will tell the story, just like all the other stupid stories.

She passed dozens of rooms and saw only gaping maws in the doorless frames. Hungry, laughing, eager for a new story to tell. Well, you won't get us. Find someone else to gobble up. Tell someone else's story.

She came to a stop in a room entirely full of monsters, laid out on paper and ink, ready to be born. She looked down at plans for terrasques and tanks, gargoyles and guns. One crawled on its belly like a centipede with a wicked firing stinger. One had wings and talons and dropped bombs like an eagle cracking open a tortoise. One looked just like her but with the cold, dead eyes of someone who'd already been a hero for far too long. He wants us to be heroes? Fine. But we ain't the only ones leaving. He can't have heroes and monsters too.

She didn't listen when she heard the footsteps coming. Already, the soldering irons embedded in her hand glowed like dragon fire, hungry and cruel. It ate up the wicked bird and swallowed the scorpion whole. The vacant hero, the last to go, turned to ash before its story could be told.

She didn't see her father as she scrambled from table to table. She didn't hear his shouts when he saw what she'd done. She just felt... burning. She looked down at her weapon, the flaming sword with which she killed his monsters. The copper that once hid the dragon fire dripped and splashed and gleamed on the floor. Her hands no longer matched. One was still shiny and smooth and looked just like it ought to. The other was skeletal and glowing white-hot.

They were not meant to be heroes.

But the monsters were not yet dead.

#my writing #ficlet #steam powered giraffe #spg fanbot #calliope

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allkinds-oftrash · 1 year

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Rewatching The Crown S4E6: YESS DIANA THRIVE BABEY

Are you kidding me I forgot they danced to Frankie Valli like an actual couple in loveeee I NEED PETER MORGAN TO STOP MAKING ME ROOT FOR THEM TO SUCCEED WHEN I KNOW IT ALL CRASHED AND BURNED 😭😭

And there comes the conception of Henry lmao

#The Crown

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the-iron-orchid · 2 years

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Rimworld: Arcana, Part 9: This Is Total Sausage Festival

The funny hats stay ON when they fuq

These transport pods seem really unreliable tbh

(’Banished’ is a backstory, Garry here was not banished from his present faction!)

We could leave him to die with no real penalties, but this is an opportunity to build goodwill with our neighbors. I just hope he doesn’t decide to join, because we don’t have the technology to fix his infirmities quite yet and we definitely do not have Royal Jelly, so he is going to go into withdrawal at some point.

Saved by the dashing doctor lmao

This whole area opened up while Tsedi was mining! It’s a good thing we found this now, or it would have been a massive weakness when Sappers start appearing in raids, We need to reinforce that lower area and place some defenses.

Dammit, Garry. It’s fine, Dr Devorak is on the case... they have not yet had the time or materials to make a fully sterile hospital room, so this remains a risk.

Tsedi is suddenly possessed by the spirit of Party Cat.

The colonists have been dodging lightning bolts this entire quadrum thanks to the forced weather. It finally catches up with Jinana, who gets a minor burn when the lightning starts a fire right freakin next to hir.

Meanwhile, Tsedi and Julian put paid to the cougar that was stalking Tsedi while he was just trying to haul some fruit. Predators get bolder when the season gets colder - prey animals start to leave the map, plus we’ve been hunting a lot of them ourselves to provision for the winter!

Garry has recovered from his injury and infection, freeing up a medical bed...

And garnering us significant goodwill with his faction.

Meanwhile, a whole-ass shuttle with 5 people in it crashes directly in our front yard, narrowly missing Lucio’s pen. Why is travel so damned hazardous around here, anyway?

We rescue the three who are still alive, stashing them in spare beds (you can see that poor Holster there is just on a designated spot on the floor until we can build another bed). Roomba has come to visit them!

“Ah, and there’s your nurse.” (A massive arctic wolf comes into the room, wearing a little nurse hat)

Yet another transport pod crash brings Sean the Seagull, who has apparently survived being shot at in the past, as well as this crash. In fact, he immediately got up and started wandering around, so... you do you, I guess.

And that makes seven colonists now, six of them sausage-bearing. The place is filthy from all the foot traffic bringing in dirt from outside, so Holster immediately gets set to cleaning. (Turns out he can cook and craft decently, so he’s actually not too bad as colonists go...)

We could banish colonists who join up this way, but it will cause a fairly long-lasting negative thought for all of those who remain. Because of that, I usually only banish colonists who will actively cause greater problems (traits that cause a lot of social friction, pawns who can’t pull their weight at all due to having too many work types turned off by their background, etc.)

Meanwhile, Dr Devorak really is here to cure their boredom! :D He’s researching more forms of recreation for the colony, because horseshoes and chess just aren’t cutting it

Dun dunnnn dunnnnnnnnnnnnnn 🐿

(It spooked Turel, but then he took care of it lmao)

Somehow, Jinana tamed a pygmy muffalo. Sadly, it is a male, so no milk, but he will produce a nice warm wool, and also he is adorable! What should we name him?

Seanathan Seagull, who has been kind of trapped in the lower perimeter due to reviving immediately after his crash, decided to try and make a meal of Slim. Slim wisely fled for the latrine, locking the gull outside.

And Tsedi once again puts a stop to this - Sean the Seagull is no longer a Problem, he’s dinner. Them’s the breaks on the Rim, babey

Szilard is suffering a great deal from Go-Juice withdrawal. Julian prescribes some dank kush to take the edge off, which for some reason also requires stripping Szilard naked. (Probably because it’s considered an ‘operation’ to smoke him out, but lol)

Szilard has the Chemical Fascination trait, so on top of the usual mood buff from being stoned, he gets an extra little boost because he just rly loves drugs ok. OTOH, going too long without taking any drugs at all will sour his mood a bit. He has up to 23 more days of Paralytic Abasia, with a 1% chance each day of spontaneously recovering.

We’ve expanded the pen to make room for tiny unnamed muffalo friend!

And we finish off these crash-tastic few days with Turel apparently standing on Julian’s shoulders, and two new card games for everyone to play in the dining room! (That would be a game of One, and a ‘Sorcery, the Assembly’ deck. You have to imagine Julian researching the specs and rules, and then Turel and Heron painstakingly crafting the cards...)

Anyway, it’d be great if things could stop crashing directly on us, thx (Watch a fucken Space Battle happen next lmao)

Next time: oh god plz make the forced weather finally stop we hate it so much hghghgghghhghghh

#Jenjamin plays Rimworld #animal death cw (but not ours)#drugs cw (as always)

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wrathbites · 5 months

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new game + babey 5 and 15?

New Game + Give me a number 1-100, and I will either tell you what fic the corresponding Spotify Wrapped song inspired, or write you a ficlet/snippet inspired by that song.

5 is "Headlights" by Ashbury Heights. I'm a bit of a wuss with what it inspired so I don't have a fic or snippet to share, but I get "relationship on the rocks" vibes from it. And I can't do that to my precious babs (yet).

Now, 15! Is "Poison Apple", Echo Black and Danny Blu. I don't have a corresponding fic, buuuuuuuuuut...

Another midnight I saw your face The hunger hit me And I had to have a taste No need to fight it Temptation reigns Your touch is wicked And it's burning through my veins

"You're either very brave or very foolish to send your guards away this early, little mouse," his assassin rumbles, detaching from the shadows at last to stand behind him, so close he can feel the scalding heat from hip to shoulder.

There, on his neck, a puff of breath and the lightest skim of too sharp teeth. There, around his knee, the curl of a tail robbing him of escape, as deadly a weapon as the dagger yet to find home in his back.

A dozen reasons to run, to call his men back, to uncork one of the vials in his pocket and splash the contents over his assassin's face, stab at blood red eyes with his claw-tipped fingers. But fear gets him nowhere, and curiosity... well. There's always some fun in that.

"And have them spoil our game? Perish the thought."

"Mmm. So certain you'll survive the night?"

Gortash turns, and his assassin allows it, answer enough in the lack of space between them. His corpse would already be stiff and cold on the floor if his end fell on this night. He frames that scarred face in his hands, scales rough on his skin, and jabs his thumbs under the dragonborn's chin, forcing his head up.

"Careful, kitty cat," he murmurs, "I bite."

Human teeth are too blunt to cause lasting harm, but that's not what he's after. The hiss, the lash of that tail, the crash of magic up his arms, sparking along his veins and stealing the breath from his lungs - that's what he's after. The surge of a body against his forcing him back, another step, another, until he hits the table and tumbles backward over it - that's what he's after.

There's hunger burning in his assassin's stare, it's been there for weeks, and he'll have it.

#korblez #wrathwips #I like to tune it tune it #Gortash/Durge otherwise known in my wip folder as disaster murder husbands

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