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wannaeatramyeon · 10 months

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More Gun + Goo Shenanigans

Credit Card

The first message came through at 8am.

Accompanied with 'oops, forgot mine. using yours. hope you don't mind 🥺🫰 '

And usually Gun would mind. He would mind a whole fucking lot. But when you're in a junkyard moulding your masterpiece, having left most of your usual everyday carry at home. Well. You have bigger fish to fry. Or a smaller Daniel Park to cook.

Besides, it's probably just an energy drink anyway if the amount and the blonde's habits are anything to go buy. Gun can let it slide just for today, that for some reason Goo has desided to forgo any contactless payment and use Gun's card. Whatever.

And then the next messages from his bank continue to come through.

8:32am: Coffee shop - 8000 won

8:56am: Coffee shop - 8000 won

9:17am: Coffee shop - 8000 won

9:25am: Coffee shop - 8000 won

9:30am: Coffee shop - 8000 won

9:33am: Coffee shop - 8000 won

9:34am: Coffee shop - 8000 won

Ok. That's enough.

Gun angrily dials Goo. Seriously. "What the fu-"

"Sup man!" Goo sounds completely manic and shrill. Likely about to buzz out of his head.

"Did you just pound 7 coffees and an energy drink?"

"7 doubles and an energy drink," the voice on the other end corrects.

"I'm cancelling my card."

"No wait-"

Family friendly

"What you crying for kid? Never seen someone so handsome before?" Goo flashes his most winning smile. The one where it's all teeth and maybe a touch feral.

Understandably, the kid, probably no older than 8, wails even louder.

What. the. fuck.

That's what you get for trying to be family friend huh. Goo starts scowling at her, now inconsolable with fear.

Honestly. How dare she take one look at his face and burst out into tears.

Where the fuck are her parents.

Gun would have intervened; they have places to be, things to do. If only the whole situation wasn't so entertaining.

Especially as he now looks over and finds his partner in a bizarre stand-off where Goo's face darkens the more the kid cries, and the kid cries the more terrifying Goo's face becomes.

"This lil motherfucker-" Wait. A lightbulb goes off in Goo's head and he forces all the cheer he can into his voice. "Kid, come look at this!"

She looks up just in time to see Goo whipping the sunglasses from Gun.

Her daddy has warned her about this. The red scar. The eyes. Pitch black. DEMON.

She runs off screaming and flailing as Goo cackles.

Hospital

"Why is it when something happens, it's always you two."

"Just want to see your pretty face again, cutie!"

The elderly nurse sighs. She's experienced far too much, is too weather beaten, for Goo Kim's flowery words to have any effect on her.

Completing her last rounds before her shift finishes, she just wants to finish and then go. Have a bath. Lie in bed. Lo and behold, she has these two idiots appearing once more in the private wing.

Hmm. It had been a few weeks since she last saw them.

She rifles through the clipboard, checking the doctor's notes. "So what are you in for?"

"Fighting." Gun, on the next bed, answers.

"...And you both ended up with neck braces?"

"Yep! We got a little rough. You know how these things are," Goo chirps, light tone contrasting with his eyes angrily glaring at Gun.

"...It says pillow fight here."

"Yep!"

That doesn't sound right. " And what were the pillows filled with?"

A brief pause, where they exchange shifty glances before piping up together, "Rocks."

Outfits

"That looks great on you,"

"I know."

Gun ignores Crystal fawning over Goo. Completely ignores them and the vein throbbing on his temple.

He absolutely will not concern himself with such juvenile things.

Barely remembers the first time he wore the same outfit, picking Crystal up and accompanying her to J-High, she took one look at his outfit and held back a giggle.

He doesn't give a shit. He has more important things to think about.

Or when Goo raided his wardrobe, rifling through outfits, laughed at this monstrosity and then asked if he could have it, Gun just shrugged. He has no attachment to it.

And now Gun absolutely doesn't care that Goo is on the receiving end for his outfit.

Who gives a shit.

Gun Park is above this nonsense. So what if he is daydreaming about strangling the life out of Goo in that stupid shirt and stupid scarf.

It's no different than usual, he always fantasises about killing Goo.

It's fine.

And one I accidentally deleted: Spice Eating Contest

"...What's wrong with you two?" Kouji, face completely repulsed, watches his two hyungs scarfing down the ramen in front of him.

The store's spiciest, apparently. Renowned, Crystal had said. Three please, Kouji had asked. And when it arrived? Disappointment. Spicy? Not by a long shot. Barely even having any heat.

The same can't be said for Gun and Goo's palate, tears streaming down their sweaty beet red faces, snot flowing freely and ew. Likely mingling with everything else.

"It's not spicy at all!" Goo spits, mouth full of ramen and glowering at Gun.

"Who said it was spicy, idiot." Gun retaliates, eyes leaking even more as he shoves in another mouthful.

"Umm. Guys. You need to be careful-" Kouji tries, but to no avail. Both now too busy trying to swallow inbetween coughing fits.

Oh well.

He did try to warn them.

Guess they will just have to deal with the aftermath once the spice works its way through their digestive system and wrecks their body for a second time.

#lookism #lookism x reader #lookism headcanons #lookism fic #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #gun park #park jonggun #kim joongoo #goo kim #wannaeatramyeon

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bluejayyz · 1 month

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Doodle World Awesome Squad from my Mind Palace 👾👾

Design Explanation Paragraphing under the cut !!!! Where I really talk about the how and why of it all ^<^

So excited to post this !! I do hope ye all like it, I was super excited seeing people like/reblog my last post as I've felt a little awkward posting Doodle World art just due to not knowing anyone else who played the game eeeekk.. BUT these are my 'headcannons', I guess you could call them; for the main Doodle World group !!!

> Suzie : The shortest of the group at 5'2"!! Due to the body type used for her in-game, I have always pictured her as being on the bigger side!! Her hair is like a Jellyfish cut, if you guys are familiar with that. Or.. well that's how I interpret what is happening. And I think she looks totally cutieful <3 I draw her with blue eyes for reasons unknown to myself, I have just always given her blue. Her pants are worn/faded at the knees and slightly frayed at the end. Her footwear is closer to boots than runners!! She is in-game, shown to be closer with the player, and that stays to be true in my version of them also.. I think they would have matching friendship bracelets...

> Quincy : Second tallest at 5'7.5" [didn't originally care about the .5, until it was a way to one up the player]. Got rid of those awful glasses he wears... please take them off Quincy.. gave him regular white frames specs instead!! He is a little blind. Also grey-ish eyes?? Again no reasoning. Is on the slimmer side in my mind, not much muscle, because I believe he was a sheltered, rich kid who didn't have to do much- until this adventure, of course. His outfit also doesn't make much sense for travel because well.. I don't think he really expected all this running around we have been doing. His shoes are bright white, and his jeans look brand new. His shirt is pressed !!! ..He has grown on me a lot I can't lie, I never disliked him, though.

> TJ : Tallest of the group!! 6'0"!! He has always just felt tall to me.. maybe that is crazy. He has wider shoulders that sort of replicate his in-game model, as opposed to Quincy, I do believe TJ has worked out/exercised at times :P His outfit is more relaxed, I debated with sweatpants for a while, I do think baggy jeans suit but either or make sense to me. The knees of his jeans are slightly worn, his hoodie is definitely bigg and comfy, and his shoes are definitely made for maximum comfort and running around. Hair change going off model simply because I like this style a lot more, and I think it suits him really well, and then brown eyes !! He also has thicker eyebrows than Suzie and Quincy, no major reason I just think thick eyebrows rock !!!1

And finally, not really necessary;

The Player! Or in this case

> Jay : Standing at 5'7" to replicate myself, Jay is a mix of me and my roblox avatar in looks. She has broader shoulders, which are very much hidden under the baggy hoodie. She also has thicker eyebrows, matching TJ. His outfit is similar to Quincy's on the pure coincide of that is what my avatar was wearing when I first joined Doodle World and finding it funny, I've kept the matching rival outfits since. Despite the similarity to Quincy's clothes, Jay's are very much perfect for this adventure (the main reason being the jumper shirt combo is fake!! It is one item of clothing... he has been lying to you). The jeans are baggy, worn, faded, and fraying in places- but the extra pockets really do come in handy at times. Also a glasses wearer!! As I'm very much far from 20/20 vision.. and of course; train track braces !!! Let's goo !!!!

Well, that has been an absolute ramble session !! I hope that made sense if you did read all that. I mainly just wanted to explain how I see the characters and my reasonings, if any.. behind why. Especially if I want to post more artwork of them all :D!!!

#art #bluejayyz art #doodleworld #doodle world #doodleworld fanart #doodleworld art #doodle world roblox #doodleworld quincy #doodleworld suzie #doodleworld TJ #my headcannons #eeeekk so much funn

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thydungeongal · 5 months

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Mutants in the Making

Part #6: How You Fight

Previously on Mutants in the Making:

Step #1: Getting Together

Step #2: Cursing Your Dice

Step #3: You're Good At...

Step #4: Your Origin Story

Step #5: Let's Mutate!

Quick reminder: our character thus far is a surprisingly docile, absolutely stacked four-foot tall humanoid groundhog. He (I'm deciding he's a guy now) grew up on a farm, raised by a nice human family after he was exposed to the Goop (not to be confused with GOO-P: Genetic-Organic Optimization Points. Goop is just the sludge that causes mutation, not a game mechanical term). We now have to choose his fighting style.

We can no longer use Takebacks at this point, but our two unspent Takebacks won't go to waste.

Anyway, fighting styles in Mutants in the Now are divided into five broad categories: Sport, Street, Tradition, Wild, and Secret. Characters with an Urban background can take Sport, Street and Tradition styles. Characters with a Rural background (our character) can take Sport, Tradition, or Wild. Characters with an Institutional background can take Sport, Street, or Wild. Secret styles are only available to characters with specific backgrounds, specified in those backgrounds.

My choice is simple: I'm going for the style known as Jailhouse Rock, which is categorized as Street and Tradition:

This is simple enough. We gain the Core Ability, Core Bonus, Base Ability, and all the Supported Maneuvers of this style.

Current Takebacks: 2/6

Current GOO-P: 0

Cognition 16, Determination 16, Affinity 14, Perception 16, Strength 20, Prowess 12, Endurance 25, Speed 15.

Size Rating: 8

Basic Traits: Rodentia, Facultative Herbivore, Bipedal, Prehensile, Vocal, Inhuman

Minor Traits: Good Dog, Hibernate

Major Traits: Stable, Thick Hide, Burrow, Tunnel

Unique Traits: Your weight is 100% higher than it normally would be for your size rating. Add +2 to your size rating when comparing it with other characters for purposes of various effects. This bonus does not increase any of your traits (like size damage or SHT).

Core Ability (Iron-Body Armor): When in a melee with more than one foe, gain Resistance 2 and +A on saving throws. If you already have Resistance 2 or higher, add 1 to Resistance instead.

Base Ability (52 Blocks): When you have focus, add a bonus to your Defense equal to the number of foes in melee with you.

I went for this style simply because it is defensive but also very powerful (as attested to by the +2 Strength).

Next step is to pick our skill packages, and after that all that's left is outfitting and finishing things off!

#mutants in the making

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toomanykidsverse · 2 years

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Behold, the fabled stim post!

Stede

- The Classic, flappy hands <3

- rocks back and forth on his feet

- spins/twirls, especially to music

- walks on his toes if he's not wearing shoes

- bites his nails as a nervous stim

- stims with nice fabrics <3

- paces when he's nervous

- snapping/clicking his fingers

- shakes his fists up and down

- bounces

- drums his fingers on surfaces

- taps his feet against the floor

- give him some drum sticks and he'll go wild, the man is a drummer

- loves pressure stims. weighted blankets, getting Stede to lay directly on top of him, and the feeling of tight leather are some of his favorites

- also stims with nice fabrics, but most the ones Stede is wearing

Izzy

- Running his hands along Poppy's fur

- nail polish asmr videos

- draws on his skin and clothes with markers absentmindedly, specifically really likes drawing stars

- hums the tunes of his favorite songs when he's alone

Olu

- sort of specific one here: he pulls his knees to his chest and then pulls his hoodie over his legs

- fidgets with rubik's cubes

- yo-yo king, king of the yo-yo

- blows bubbles. really likes those bubble wands that look like swords

Jim

- This one is kinda specific, but I think they have one of those practice butterfly knives that they spin around a lot. They want a real one but they aren't allowed to have one just yet.

- cutting wood with their pocket knife

- rips leaves off of plants and tears them up

- popping the bubbles that Olu blows

Lucius

- Stim toys galore. Has more pop-its and cute squishies than strictly necessary, but uses them all often. aways has several in his backpack. He'll share with anyone who needs one

- chew necklaces that he matches to his outfits

- flippy sequins!

- claps his hands and bounces when excited

- calligraphy asmr videos. with the sparkly ink <3

- dances as a happy stim

John

- pulls his arms into his sweater sleeves

- has one of those 3D printed slug fidget toys that he carries around a lot

- swimming as a stim! the water feels nice

Pete

- stress balls! specifically those ones with the goo inside and the nets around them.

- punches at the air when he's excited

Frenchie

- Flappy hands with sweater paws!

- also has lots of stim toys! really likes fidget cubes

- slaps his hands against any surface. tables, walls, his own legs.

- always humming and whistling

Buttons

- bird sounds! he'll echo different calls that he hears

- just generally repeats sounds he hears

- animal stims. will pet any animal for long periods of time.

Roach

- slime!

- loves how soft flour is, will shove his hands in a bag of flour

- bites his fingers

- finger painting

- fidgets with those stretchy lizard toys

- rainbow groan tube

Swede

- bites the straw on his water bottle

- runs his hands along his favorite blanket

- vocal stims from his favorite cartoons :]

and now, shared stims!

- I think most of them, if they make a sound at someone in the house, the other will echo it back most of the time. if several of them are in one spot they just go on with this for a bit.

- Ed and Frenchie are the musical boys, and if one of them starts humming or whistling or drumming a beat, the other will probably join

- Ed and Stede both fidget with their wedding rings <3 (they also eventually catch onto this and think it's very sweet they both do it)

- Ed, Lucius, and Swede are the chewy necklace gang.

- watching stim videos is a family activity, they all give their input on which ones they like or don't like after each one

- Ed and Stede will hold hands and spin together, but they can't do it for very long. Very good stim for very high happy energies :]

please share with me any other stims you think any of them would have <3 or if you do any of these let me know!

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jokersmeowmeow · 2 years

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Can we talk about

How fancy J is?

And not particularly one, ok, like, ALL OF THEM???

I'm gonna talk only about Ledger J and Phoenix J as I adore them equally the most out of all character interpretations, but the animated ones, Nicholson etc., they all represent such CLASS&STYLE through their colorfulness and extravagance, yet they still keep the darkness within them in their appearance as well.

Their clothing literally reflects their identity; there's a plethora of colors, accessories etc., the true chaos, and as we know, J is an agent of it, but at the same time that chaos creates a single whole, where all the pieces perfectly blend in with each other.

J makes first impression of a silly clown with no sense of style hence many wrongly underestimate him to his advantage, but the closer and more attentively we look, the more well-thought-out and, what's even more crucial, the more functional and practical his garment turns out to be.

ISN'T THAT SICK?? LOOK AT THIS--

(He's so happy here I cannot with him-- but no, okay, let's focus now lsnxnsmz)

We've got so many colors here: purple, green, blue, brown, grey and even orange, but at the same time the whole outfit doesn't look flash, You know?

The colors are soft and dusty-like, so they make J look almost normal (as for Gotham standards) as nothing is out of place there thus he doesn't stand out of the crowd, this enables him to easily blend in.

Moreover, the darkness, which is a byword for him, is visibly present thanks to this.

Also, let's pay attention to the big number of layers he wears: coat, jacket, vest and shirt? Isn't that quite a lot?

Stated: N O, because I feel it's not a coincidence either, it's symbolic of the fact that he's more than meets the eye, there's much more to him than he let's us see and that he always has some backup plan, an ace up his sleeve.

It's a metaphore for the comlpexity of everything that makes him "him"; his uncertain past, ambiguous motives of his actions and ideas (so called "messages" ;D), his deep personality which seems to have no bottom or end.

and that - THAT, MY DEAR READERS - is why we find him so interesting, that's why he attracts us so hard and makes us love/admire/respect him.

We never know his next move, plot-twist pursues plot-twist in the reality he creates around us, we don't know what to expect from him as we don't know almost anything about him, actually. We can try to understand and interpret him, but we'll never be sure whether it's true about him or not.

On the other hand, this J is a practical man; many layers of clothing = many pockets and hidden inserts, which provide him with a huge storage room for weapons (mostly his knives), amunition and so on.

I don't know about that, but I have a feeling thick clothing could probably also protect him from injuries...

...and cold, because there's hardly ever sunshine in Gotham and it f*cking always rains there, I'd dress in layers as well if I were to live in that hellhole.

*exhausted sigh* aight, let's move on to the next one: Joaquín Phoenix Joker.

He's just... Aahh. Yeah, basically--

I must quit talking for a sec and show You:

We've got Arthur and J

Now tell me, if You didn't know the movie, would it ever cross Your mind that these two are actually one and the same person?

Cause I WOULD BE OBLIVIOUS AF.

And the reason for all of that is a huge contrast between mr. Fleck and mr. J.

His character reminds me of a caterpillar attending eclosion, like, he had to first turn into a total goo (an invisible man at the rock bottom of his life wearing some invisible colors matching his surroundings: grey for the repulsive pavements, dirty yellowish something for damp patches on the city buildings' walls, dark brown for the trash lying on the streets) so he could then transform into magnificent butterfly loved and admired by many, but also feared by the others (just look at the butterfly's close-up and You'll understand what I'm sayin' :'D)

He literally blossomed in this movie, thanks to falling apart and going mad he got rebuilt and became his true self, finally noticed, finally respected.

Ofc in a terrifying way, losing sanity, killing people and turning into a monster is unforgivable and undefendable.

But, like an animal brought up in captivity and all of sudden released to the wild, like this butterfly, he had to reach his true form, had to become what society made him into - and it is emphasized in the transition in his way of clothing.

I also think his fate was decided the moment Penny adopted him, or even earlier, when he got put in the orphanage - to my mind a brilliant example of fatum motive from Classical antiquity, cockeyed from his very beginning, without the slightest chance of changing his fate, whatever he does or doesn't do, it brings him closer and closer to the inavitable end... which, simultaneously and ironically, is a moment of birth of his new "me".

Aaaaand I got carried away a little with my character analysis again, sorry for that, but hey! It's all written all over his outfit ;))

Arthur is an embodiment of the word "nobody" or, as spoken earlier, "invisible" - he even said "If it was me dying on the sidewalk You'd walk right over me!" and it's true as he actually looks like the sidewalk, like these sleazy streets people turn they sight away from, so he can't be spotted, he uknowingly doesn't allow people to see him.

BUT--

After accepting his new persona he explodes with colors the same way he does with his beliefs and emotions, mostly pity, rage and hate. And as we know, extreme anger is often associated with bright red, which is dominant in his new look. Additionally, red is kings' color and we know Arthur's Joker at the end of the movie is kind of worshipped by many Gotham's citizens as if he was their god and saviour - like the true Clown Prince of Crime he is.

He finally sets free everything boiling inside of him for years of his misery and it spills over his clothes, but it suits him greatly - it's not a total mess, he's at last neat and clean, not unkempt and ragged like before. Everything is well-fitted and thus makes J look more confident and attractive even, the bright colours optically enlarging his figure in comparison to thin, rat-looking loser he was.

So yeah, they both are my favourite for different reasons and their style is just so full of depth and imagery. Gotta love our multihued clowns <3

Now You can see how much You can give away just with the things You wear.

Careful ;))

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bardnuts · 6 months

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NEW CHAPTER

Be Gay, Do Drugs, Hail Satan - Chapter 4 - katabatic - Baldur's Gate (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]

Ch 4 of a fic in which Durge fails to find anyone except Astarion on the day after the crash and they have to rough it in the wilderness alone together for a while

It’s the hardest lock you’ve had to pick in years, and you really don’t want to turn your back on him long enough to do it. Every time this mad bard leaves your line of sight, you, Astarion, are transfixed by the horrible certainty of imminent murder.

Not even Cazador’s demented skeleton jailor Godey has you this on edge all the time, but there is something wrong with this man. He’s standing behind you now, rocking back and forth on his heels in the sand and singing to himself (very quietly, but only because you already told him to shut up twice). You’ve broken two lockpicks already and the third snaps off in your hand as Twill lets out a bark and doubles over coughing.

You jump a foot in the air and spin around, unable to conceal your rage and unease even though it’s vital, absolutely vital, that you do nothing to alienate this human, even though your very survival depends on his protection. “What was that?”

Tears are streaming from Twill’s eyes. He thumps his chest. “Sorry,” he wheezes. “Fly—went into my mouth—”

“Never mind. Just keep it down, will you?” You’re smoothing yourself over, pulling your voice back down to a more acceptable register. “A master is at work here.”

You bend to the lock again. His eyes burn like sunlight on the back of your neck. You can sense, through your shared parasite, something black and unspeakable thrashing just beneath the surface of Twill’s thoughts. Your instincts are tested, true, rarely flat-out wrong: you’re afraid of him for a reason.

You’re afraid of a man who chokes on flies, and you’re furious about it.

The fourth lockpick does it. The doors in the cliff face crack and expel a puff of dust as you push them inward. Sunlight penetrates a gray interior, thick with cobwebs and silence, and flows over the lid of an ornate casket at the center of a long chamber.

Home sweet home, almost.

You step back and beckon the bard. “After you. Assuming you’ve finished sampling the local wildlife.”

“Oh, this will be fun,” says Twill, breezing past you. “I’ve never done a good old-fashioned grave-robbing before.”

His lute jangles as he walks. His outfit has been embroidered—with frustrating skill—in colors that should make your eyes bleed. He moves with a sense of incaution and ineptitude better suited to a toddler with nothing to lose. You’re so entranced by your own profound dislike for this man that you don’t notice the vents in the floor until it’s too late.

“Wait—ah!” You abort your frantic lunge towards Twill as he steps on the raised plate surrounding the vent and the resulting click sends a jolt of terror up your spine.

“What?” asks Twill.

“Traps.”

Twill looks at his feet, where a puddle of greasy slime is oozing steadily from the vent in the floor. “Not really effective, though, are they?”

You can’t kill him, you need him. You can’t kill him, you need him.

“Ehm,” you say. “I have a feeling that the horrible goo is only part one of our demise, and I’m not keen on initiating part two. So shall we watch our step?”

“You have experience in tomb raiding?”

“Let’s say I have experience in tombs.”

To his credit, and your chagrin, he takes your advice literally and begins moving across the chamber with exaggerated care, frowning at his own boots. Then something pulls his attention to the western wall. “What’s that? Looks valuable.”

“Watch where you’re stepping, you—augh!” Your feet betray you and you slip in the grease puddle, landing flat on your back and cracking your skull against the flagstone floor. For a moment all you hear is a high ringing noise. Then animal terror grips you once again and you struggle upright, looking around frantically because you have allowed your attention to lapse and he might already be lunging toward you with a stake to bury in your heart—

His head pops over the top of the sarcophagus in the center of the chamber. “That sounded nasty. You all right?”

“Fine!” you snap. “All is well and good here, no thanks to you. Just don’t touch anything else.” Most of the floor is now covered in what you suspect to be a highly flammable slime. You get to your feet with upmost care, glaring daggers at the back of Twill’s head as he returns to his rummaging.

It isn’t entirely his fault. You’ve been in an abominable mood all day. Because you’re hungry. You’re trying not to think about how you can hear the blood pounding in Twill’s veins, or how tempted you are to lunge at him while he has his back turned, to sink your fangs into that supple-looking neck.

You can’t kill him, you need him.

You need blood, too.

You’re a slave to your hunger, even if Cazador is far away. The very thought makes you want to retch. But you’ve never fed on a sapient creature before, never a humanoid, just … rats. And corpses. And this freak of a human has his back turned to you. Maybe you don’t need him. You could drain him dry and leave him here, and no one would ever be the wiser.

Move quick. Move quiet.

You slip in the grease again and hit your head.

“Careful over there,” calls Twill. “Say, what do you think the going price is for butt oil in rural villages?”

Your hunger has been overridden by a splitting headache. “…What?”

Across the room, Twill holds up a small glass vial shaped like a phallus. “There’s a whole crate full of these. Say, you don’t think … no …” His voice trails away as he gazes down at the quarter-inch of slime coating the flagstones.

“Oh, good gods,” you say. “Whose tomb is this?”

“Don’t know, but we can find out—shit!” Twill’s jovial tone cuts into a hiss of pain and he jerks his hand from the crate. A ribbon of blood slides down the back of his hand and up his sleeve. “Well, the whole bottom layer is in pieces, so we’ll just have to take what we can carry, I suppose.”

You can’t reply. Your brain is full of static. You can feel it rising, the feral hunger that will turn you into an animal, a gasping, twitching thing with no thoughts in its head, only blood, only thirst. There’s a voice in your head, an old and familiar one. Look how easy it is to make you forget yourself, boy. Can’t handle a little thirst? A little deprivation? You think you’ll ever be worthy of true power?

“Here, catch.”

Instinctively, you do. It is, beyond the shadow of a doubt, a vial of butt oil.

With a sharp gasp, you come back to yourself and smash the vial against the sarcophagus for good measure. “We’re not taking this. Are you insane?”

“Well—”

“Don’t, don’t answer that.” In a panic, you paper over your hunger with mania and dart around the sarcophagus, scanning the shadows of the tomb for anything that might be worth taking. “There has to be something in here we can sell. Come on. Come on!”

“I say we start with the obvious,” says Twill. “If I were dead, I’d want to keep my valuables close.” He makes his way carefully across the grease and reaches for the lid of the sarcophagus.

You seize his wrist. He stiffens.

“I said, don’t touch anything,” you whisper.

His blood is warm and wet under your fingers, his pulse a siren song. You’re as startled by the contact as he is. He’s watching you sharply, not with fear but something more akin to a predator’s caution glinting deep in those honey-brown eyes. One wrong move, and you’re both dead.

Drink. Feed. Consume.

You release him. It almost leaves you giddy with relief—you can control yourself, after all. You’re not an animal. You’re not an animal.

Not anymore.

“Let me take care of it,” you say. “I can see a mechanism here, just under this lip. Do you see?”

He bends down and cranes his neck. “What, that?”

“It might be a trap. So, stand back, and watch the master at work.” You kneel as you fish your tools from your pocket and twist to reach the spring-loaded trigger set under the lid of the sarcophagus. Your fingers are spotted with blood. Your hands are shaking. Your thumb slips.

Click.

“Oh.” Your voice seems to come from a long way away. “Shit.”

#lube is involved but not in the way you think #my writing #astarion #the dark urge #astarion x dark urge #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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scrumpledorph-writes · 3 months

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Koben’s Recruitment (A New Life)

Five O’clock. Up before the sun, into the mines just as it’s coming up over the mountains, out just as it’s going down. Maybe some day I’ll get to see the whole thing. Wish I could remember it from before I was old enough to work, but oh well. Synth-sunlamps handle my nutrient needs anyway, that’s what they always tell us.

Meal paste tastes like nothing again. Hard to stay above the flavor syrup threshold working by myself, but mom and dad’ll bounce back in a few days. Just a bit too much dust in the system. Their coughs have been getting stronger, they’ll flush it out and be ready to get back to it. I know how much they hate leaving me alone in there. ‘I’m heading out. You two keep gathering up your strength, alright? I love you.’ No response. They know. They’ll be fine.

I wish they could get that blue stuff for it though. Dad said that one time when the cart rolled over his arm and took it off they just put him in a cast with some blue goo holding the arm together, and he was back to normal in time for the evening half of his shift. The medics said a cough wasn’t an emergency at first, and now they say it’s only for good earners.

‘Hey Tarani, you’re running late! Get in the hole!’ Greel-gneek must be having a bad day, his thumb’s already on the switch of his shock whip and I didn’t even talk back. Looks too busy to use it though, the guards have something to say to him. Wonder why their outfits look different today? Not my problem. Better get down the shaft.

Another one of those new guards, ripping down the old posters. They don’t usually come into the mine, but he’s doing good work at least. Never liked that smug old asshole with the fancy sword staring at me all day, hope they put up something nice. Flashier picture, with no words. Don’t know why they bother with words on the motivational posters, not like there’s any time to learn what they say. ‘Hey kid, quit staring, don’t you have work to do?’ Guess they’re not that different from the old ones.

Work is work, same as every other day. Crack open the rock, put the crystals in the cart, scan for more crystals. Do that for seven hours, get some food paste, do it for seven more hours. Easy. I can do this. I do this every day, because when I don’t the foreman comes around and scorches up the place with his whip. I can do this every day for the rest of my life because the Republic couldn’t survive without it.

‘I’m home!’ Worn out, like always, but at least I can enjoy a meal with them. Usually I can see the lamp on from the window, but all the coughing must have given them a migraine. That’s fine, we can eat in the dark. Resting in bed, that’s good. I’ll bring them their paste. They’re not moving.

They’re cold. They didn’t get better. They’re dead. I’m crying. I’m crying and screaming until my throat is too dry to make words, and now I’m knelt over coughing on the floor. The miner from the next hut over is in the doorway. Never had time to learn her name.

She’s gone, and now the emergency alarms are blaring. Guards pointing blasters through the doorway on high alert, guards sighing in relief that it’s just a couple dead workers, guards stepping around me without a word, guards dragging my parents away. They didn’t even call a medic, bring them out on a stretcher. Too dehydrated for any more tears right now. At least I’ll have their ashes by the end of my next shift.

A faint buzzing coming from the doorway. Oh, she’s back, it was a question. ‘I didn’t hear you.’ ‘Do you want to stay at our place tonight? They said you’ll have to move out or let another family move in. I figured since we’re neighbors, well, you know.’ I don’t. I don’t know anything about her or anything at all right now. ‘Okay.’

Can’t sleep. Too sad. Too angry. They were always good earners. They worked as hard as they could, and then when they got sick from the crystal dust they got left to die. There’s a miracle goo, why couldn’t they just give my parents a little bit of it? It doesn’t even make sense. They weren’t that old, not even forty, they had plenty of good years left to work.

Is this a punishment, are my parents criminals? Is there a law that you get punished for whatever crimes your parents did, and that’s why I have to work here too? Now that they’re dead am I gonna have to finish working off their sentences? If I don’t finish it before I die, will my kid need to work off mine on top of theirs?

Do they just hate us? Is this all a cruel sick joke being played for fun, and they’re laughing? That’s the only thing that makes sense. The Republic has droids, smart ones, they show them fighting on the holovids. If they can fight in the wars, they could do this too! Droids don’t need to breathe, the dust wouldn’t even hurt them! They could work longer hours without even needing a break in the middle, just run them a power cable and they wouldn’t even need to leave the mines! There’s just no reason for us to be the ones doing all this unless it’s a joke.

Oh. It’s morning. Get up, eat my meal paste – these people have a little flavoring in theirs, that’s nice – go to the mine. There’s Greel-gneek, that fucking piece of shit bastard. He’s the one who worked them, he’s the one who terrorized us with the whip whenever we fell behind, he’s the one who told me they couldn’t get the goop – both times; I hate his guts. ‘Hey Tarani, I’m sorry to hear about your parents.’ That’s it.

He’s sorry? He thinks he knows what it means to be sorry? I’m gonna teach him, right now. If this is all a cruel sick joke and he gets to go back to his administrator house with the private water shower he can use whenever he wants and the real food to eat and the mattress made with real feathers instead of the compressed slabs we get – if this whole place is the setup to one long joke then I’m at least going to get a laugh in.

The pickaxe is as sharp as always. These things get a lot better care than we do, and take off peoples’ toes with one wrong swing. It should do the job.

Look him in the eye as I start running. He’s reaching for the whip. It’s on my skin, wrapped itself around my shoulder a few times. The pain of the shock’s supposed to be a deterrent, but right now while the tip sears my right cheek all I feel is alive. He’s caught on that it’s not working, and his hands are over his face for protection. Bones crack easier than rocks.

He’s screaming for the guards, all the blustering and threats have melted away. It takes just enough time to pull the pick back that he can adjust what’s left of his arms, but he’ll run out eventually. His viscera splattered enough to short out the whip, so now I can really bring it down properly. One last hit, clean through both arms – and I can feel the stone underneath. One more to be sure, a second for mom, a third for dad, and this last one just because he can’t stop me any more. There. ‘Stand up slowly, and put your hands behind your head.’

Four guards. I’ve never seen more than two called to handle a miner – I guess nobody’s ever done this before. They’re all pointing blasters at me, they want me to go back in the mine. Closing the distance, getting out the shackles. I’m not going back. They can kill me if they want, at least I lasted longer than Greel.

Pickaxe is still sharp, maybe if I’m lucky it’ll go through their suits. Backed up against the wall, everybody else is just watching. Nowhere to go but straight at them, time to hope for the best.

III

Ow. Sore, but not dead. I always figured their blasters killed you, but I guess they’d want to be able to put people back to work after they settle down. This place doesn’t look like anywhere in the mine though – it’s totally metal, not just the cell door, and I can almost see my reflection in the walls. Automatic doors too, fancy. This guy doesn’t look like a mine boss, or one of those off world bosses that used to come by every year. Wearing a lot more black, and his moustache is too short and pointy.

‘You’re awake boy, good. I hear you assaulted a mine foreman.’ ‘Killed him.’ ‘I was getting to that part. That’s a capital offense you know.’ ‘I don’t.’ ‘You don’t what?’ ‘Know what that means.’ ‘Ah, yes, I forget the educational standards of the labour colonies at times.’ ‘You making fun of me?’ ‘No no boy, allow me to rephrase: you’re to be executed.’ ‘Oh.’

I guess that makes sense. Gotta set an example for the rest of them, no different than when the miners try to go on strike and get whipped so bad they can barely stand after. ‘You don’t sound very concerned for your life.’ ‘Better than going back to the mine. How they gonna do it anyway?’ Guess this guy must not deal with miners often, he looks shaken up. ‘You’ll be brought before an imperial firing squad and shot.’ ‘That sounds fine, when’s it gonna happen?’ What’s he getting so mad about? I’m the one who’s gonna get killed.

‘Hold on a minute and let me speak, boy! If that were the end of it I wouldn’t even be here, but there were other details of your incident that were noteworthy.’ ‘Like what?’ ‘You carried out this assault while being electrocuted with a shock whip for well over a minute. An impressive accomplishment for most grown men – for a child to perform such a feat is truly unthinkable.’ ‘I’m grown.’ ‘According to the record you’re fifteen, that’s still firmly a child.’ ‘I was just too mad to feel it, that’s all.’ ‘I assure you, most men are brought low by shock whips no matter how angry they may feel in the moment.’

‘Guess they don’t have much to be mad about. My parents just died, and he killed ‘em. Now him and I are even, so dying’s not so bad.’ ‘That’s quite a serene philosophy for a boy your age, but also a wasteful one. Might I propose an alternative?’ ‘Sure.’

‘How would you feel about joining the Stormtrooper Academy?’ ‘That the soldiers, go out and fight the wars?’ ‘The very same. Your remarkable pain threshold and drive caught my attention during the incident report. I felt it would be a shame to waste such natural gifts.’ ‘Forget it, I ain’t fighting for the Republic.’

‘The Republic?’ What, is this guy stupid? ‘Them bastards run the mine, and if I ever meet that smug asshole with the fancy sword they put on the posters I’ll be right back here in jail.’ ‘My dear boy, I have wonderful news for you: the Republic is gone!’ ‘Since when?’ ‘It’s only been a few months, but the Republic has been swept away and in its place has formed a mighty Empire!’ Well that’s good news I guess.

‘They still run the mine?’ ‘The Empire has taken de facto control of every territory the Republic controlled, so yes, but we are in a transitory period! Under the Emperor’s leadership we will usher in a new age, where humans no longer live and die in toil!’ This guy sure is excited about this Emperor. Guess it makes sense a guy with all that in mind would want to take down the Republic. He sounds alright.

‘What’s being a soldier like?’ ‘You won’t be a soldier right away, you will first receive a comprehensive education: reading, writing, arithmetic – alongside studying the trade of warfare. When you come of age, eighteen years old in case you are unaware, only then will you find yourself called to serve.’ ‘Uh huh. But what’s that gonna be like? If it’s anything like the mine you might as well get that execution over with now.’

‘I promise you dear boy it will be far better than the mines. Shorter hours, better accommodations, real food – an improvement in every way.’ ‘That sounds alright then. Sure.’ ‘Wonderful, I will just need your signature here.’ Real funny. ‘You know I can’t write.’ ‘Ah, yes, of course, my apologies. An X will suffice. I will serve as witness to its veracity.’ This guy sure likes using big words, but fine.

‘Can I ask for one thing?’ ‘You’ve already been granted a generous boon, but I take you for a boy of humble demands. Make your request.’ ‘Before we head out, could I go pick up my parent’s ashes? I know the mine bosses are probably pretty mad at me, but I figure if you guys own the place you can tell ‘em to hand ‘em over.’ Least I could do for mom and dad is keep ‘em around so they can watch me be the first Tarani to make it off world. ‘Before we head out? I had you loaded into my ship and departed immediately. You were unconscious for twelve hours, we’re already a system and a half away.’ Oh.

‘Could you leave me alone for a while?’ ‘We’re on a tight schedule, but I can take my supper and return in an hour.’ Already getting choked up, just nod and keep it in until he’s gone. Crying’s fine, but never do it in front of a boss.

The Empire sure loves making people fill out forms. Maybe that’s just a part of being a soldier they don’t put in the holovids, probably nobody would enlist if they did. This secretary’s real pretty though. ‘Alright, you’re registered in the system, cadet. Just follow the signs down the hallway to the medical center for a bacta sweep.’ She smiles nice.

This place is big. Really big. I used to think the mine offices having two floors was impressive, but I guess they don’t have to worry about people jumping off the roof with it being so nice. Easy to get lost though, all kind of looks the same. Hate to wander after they told me where to go, but I’ve almost gotta. Think I’m nearly there.

‘Hey there. I’m here for whatever a “bacta sweep” is.’ Never seen a droid doctor before, hope it knows what it’s doing. ‘Affirmative, please stand on the platform for a scan.’ ‘What’s that for?’ ‘Identifying medical aberrations within your body so the bacta can be programmed and your physiology can be corrected to baseline.’ ‘That means you’re gonna make me healthy, right?’ ‘Affirmative.’ That blue goop! Guess that’s what bacta is. Never seen so much of it, they said it was worth more than the crystals we were mining. This Emperor must take really good care of his people if he gives them so much of this stuff.

‘Scan complete. Stunted growth, developmental complications attributed to malnutrition, minor lung damage, second degree burns to the flesh of the right shoulder and face. Please standby for tank calibration.’ ‘Bacta doesn’t leave scars, right?’ ‘Affirmative.’ Scars look tough, and since I don’t have nothing else I could use a keepsake from home. ‘Could you leave the burn on my face? I’d like it to scar up natural.’ ‘Query: what purpose would such action serve? Bacta consumption of such injuries is negligible.’ ‘I want a reminder of killing that son of a bitch.’ ‘Psychological value noted. Calculating. Scarring predicted to heal functionally, no loss of combat prowess incurred. Request accepted. Standby for adhesive patch, please apply to area to be excluded before submerging.’

Hurts like hell putting that thing on burnt skin, but it’ll be worth it. ‘So how’s this stuff work? My dad just got it smeared on his arm and it was enough to glue it back together.’ ‘Topical application sufficient for localized injuries; you possess chronic medical deficiencies that require redress.’ Why do droids have to talk so big? ‘Complete bodily immersion will be necessary for a period of twenty four hours. The bacta will permeate your deep tissue and correct your bodily development to within acceptable parameters for a soldier. I will append to your file that this process will require additional caloric intake for up to six months as the body actuates the process.’ ‘Could you say that again with smaller words? All I got was that it’ll take a day and then something else might take half a year.’ Real glad droids aren’t made to be judgy.

‘Initializing informal lexicon, engaging childcare subroutines—starting over. You’re small for your age from being overworked, your muscles and bones are weak because you weren’t fed enough, you can’t breathe properly because there’s dust in your lungs, and you’re burnt up pretty good from that scuffle you got into. None of that’s your fault, and the bacta’ll fix it all up for ya, but you need to float in that tank for a day so it can soak deep into you, okay?’

It sounds just like my dad used to when it was time for a checkup. Can’t believe I’m crying into a droid nurse’s chest, but I’m pretty sure they don’t gossip. It even runs hot enough to give a warm hug. If they’re kind enough to make droids that can be nice to orphans, I hope this Empire lasts forever. It could use better hands for tussling hair though.

‘There there, it’s alright kiddo. I’ll give you a little shot to make you sleepy first – you’ll hardly notice it happening; it’ll just be a nice warm floaty feeling. The tank’ll be covered too, so you won’t have to worry about anybody seeing you naked in there. Once that’s done, your body will need time to carry out the bacta’s instructions – you’ll get bigger and stronger, but you’ll need to eat more than usual. This should be done within six months. Did that clear everything up?’

‘Yeah, thank you. I still don’t really get how it all works, but being normal sized and not wheezing sounds nice. Could ya keep talking like this? It’s a lot easier to understand, and-’ Choking up too much to talk, but it’s smart, it knows what I mean. No clue why they make the droids talk that other way. ‘Sure thing kiddo, I getcha. When you’re ready I’ll need you to strip down for me – I’ll fold up your clothes in a neat little pile, don’t worry – then I’ll put the needle in. It might hurt a little, but after you step into the tank I’ll start the drugs. Once they kick in, I’ll handle everything else while you relax, okay? But we can keep hugging for a few more minutes if you like.’

I’m good now. Just had to get that out of my system I guess. Hadn’t taken the chance to do that with either of them in a long while. Clothes off, needle in, feeling...good. It’s giving me a funny little mask, and now the goop’s pouring in. It’s waving to me as the tank doors close, but I’m too floaty to wave back right now. It knows I would, it’s really nice. ‘Dis~~~~~~ng c~~ld~~re su~~~~~ines’ Hard to hear it, but I’m sure it’s fine. Time to have a good sleep.

#my oc #oc #star wars #writing #koben tarani

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independentartistbuzz · 8 months

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Elepants and Stars Share New EP, "Get Your Own Army", Out Now!

Today, Toronto outfit Elephants And Stars share their. new EPrelease Get Your Own Army with the leadoff single "Bled Out at the Scene," a Cars/Springsteen-influenced rocker that once again showcased the band's uncanny ability to find the dark heart beating away at pop music's gooey center with a chorus that gets in your head and stays there. Frontman Manfred Stittmann's meditation about an acrimonious breakup made it easy to pump your fist and cry into your beer—maybe even at the same time.

With the EP's second single "Gimme Ketamine," Elephants And Stars deliver the ultimate summer anthem with an infectiously catchy rocker that sees the band wearing the influence of groups like The Gaslight Anthem and The Goo Goo Dolls on its sleeve.

Listen in here:

Again, though, surface impressions can be deceiving, with Stittmann exploring the tension between individual conviction and social pressure, offering biting lines like "Let's crucify everyone who disagrees" in a way that one just can't help but sing-along with.

“If you look at a mega-popular hit like ‘Every Breath You Take’ by The Police," says Stittman, "just think how many people have played that song at weddings and occasions like that thinking it’s this heartfelt love ballad, when in truth it’s sung from the point of view of a stalker. I listen to a lot of really dark, heavy stuff like death metal and punk, but those lyrics don’t connect with me as much when the words and the sound align too closely. They end up canceling each other out. To me, death metal is almost party music even though I take the playing very seriously.”

“On the other hand,” he continues, “bubblegum pop usually doesn’t do it for me. I need some contrast—that feels more lifelike to me because, if you think about it, life is contrast. And I feel like that’s what we’re craving in art that seeks to be more than just entertainment, at least I do. I like to be entertained too, but I like to think this band can do both. You can sip your beer and play our songs at a cookout, or you can put them on to dwell on whatever you need to dwell on. I’m not the most profound songwriter, but I like to think our music can be there for you at whatever level you need it to be in the moment.”

The band's follow-up to their 2022 full-length Last Chance Power Drive, Get Your Own Army was produced by Steve Chahley and mixed by Ron Hawkins of alt-rock legends Lowest Of The Low. Elephants And Stars is the third project formed around the long-running creative partnership of Manfred Stittmann and bassist Mike MacMillan, both of whom also formed the core of the late-'90s/early-2000s groups Soap Opera and The First Time.

ELEPHANTS AND STARS ONLINE

SPOTIFY

BANDCAMP

INSTAGRAM

FACEBOOK

TWITTER

#Spotify

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megamindsupremacy · 2 years

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36: Twin Spoilers!!!!

Steph and Tim!!!

Literally the first night Steph (12) tries to go out as Spoiler, she and Tim (11) run into each other on a roof

Steph: who ARE you

Tim: who are YOU

Tim is totally on board with her taking down her dad but thinks her plan is stupid

So he brings her back to his house and they come up with a better plan and Tim helps her get a better costume

A week later steph goes back out as spoiler with tim helping her from his house

During the week of planning Tim tells Steph the bats’ identities because they both know theres no way she can take them in a fight and she will need leverage if she runs into them

Steph immediately runs into Shadow (19) and Spoiler (18) and is like I KNOW WHO YOU ARE. Duke and Damian are like you WHAT and take her back to the cave

Tim was on comms with Steph when she ran into the duo

Five minutes after they get back to the cave Tim bursts into the Batcave, pursued by Alfred, like LET HER GOO

So they grab him too to figure out what to do about THAT

Tim and Steph convince the batcrew to train them, especially Steph

Tim trains too, but he doesn’t ever really go out- he tends to stay in with Alfred and be tech support

Steph is the better fighter of the two by FAR

Whenever Tim does go out (mostly to fuck around with Steph) he just wears a backup Spoiler outfit and they rock-paper-scissors for who’s Spoiler One and who’s Spoiler Two

(Duke is just glad they didn’t choose the name to spite him)

Masterpost

#mads posts #dc #Batman #batfam #stephanie brown #Tim drake #spoiler #Damian Wayne #Duke Thomas #signal #reverse robins #mads’ official reverse robins au

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evilscheme · 3 years

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hii do u have any headcanons for majima. they can be about literally anything btw

I hope you're ready to read! I have lots to say about my favorite guy

from what I've seen, most people picture him as a guy who's not big on romance or sappy love. however I think the opposite. I think even if he's not aware of it, a lover who treats him gently and tenderly would make him melt. I don't think he's had many times in his life where someone's treated him with soft gentle love and he's had the opportunity to really enjoy it without fear of them getting hurt from being around him.

I like to think he'd love spoiling someone he loves but he'd go crazy in love if the other person spoiled HIM instead. hearts would be floating around his head. if you treated him to a big homemade dinner with nice wine and candles and told him you love pampering him, that would be the only time he'd truly be at a loss for words. his mind would turn to goo. he'd be head over heels.

it's already mentioned in the games that he's secretly very sentimental so I think once you have that kind of close bond with him, he'd trust you with everything. all his happy memories, his pain, his loss, his fears, his regrets, and his hopes. things he'd never disclose to anyone he considered less than having a lifetime bond with. it's just hard for him to let himself be that level of vulnerable with someone for the first time.

as for other things... I think he LOVES flashy outfits. but why wouldn't he, considering his daily outfit. anyway this ties particularly into his relationship with my oc so I won't go into that too much haha 🦍 but I'm just saying if you wore some equally eye-catching clothes as him, he'd be very drawn to you. maybe even want to compete with you.

he actually dresses very normally and comfortably on days he's just hanging out at home. which is rare because he gets lonely easily.

I think he has a secret sweet tooth. it's already established that he likes fast food but I think it would extend to other "junk food" as well. it's just too easy to picture him ordering a piece of cake at a bakery after a tiring day and his mood improving greatly.

I think he covers his face in sunscreen every day so he doesn't get a tan line around his eyepatch.

he's very smart but he doesn't always remember how to write every kanji when he's writing by hand. he prefers typing.

both when typing and writing, he prefers to avoid using hiragana and opts for katakana as much as he can get away with because he thinks it looks cooler.

he grew up poor his whole childhood and still holds onto the ideals he held before his yakuza success got him super cash. there's seriously just so many instances in the games that points me toward this conclusion that I refuse to ever believe this isn't a fact.

he loves to sing without just being funny about it, but he's a little shy about it so it's easier to just goof off to avoid embarrassing himself

he keeps his nails painted under his gloves. if not with color, at least a clear coat.

he uses lotion and moisturizer every night before bed.

he wishes he had more friends. he loves the people he does have in his life, but he feels like something is missing.

he wants to be a father badly but has thought for decades that it's a hopeless desire for him. to quell his heart, he acts extra kind to every child he comes across. tossing back baseballs with a smile, complimenting their backpacks, buying treats to cheer up kids who look sad.

he acts like he's a dog person, but he's really more of a cat person. he likes dogs too though.

he wants to be in a music video. it's a secret dream he's held onto for years.

his music taste is a mix of everything he can get his hands on. he likes fun poppy cheery music just as much as he likes dad rock and metal. he goes to music stores regularly to look for albums that look interesting. he has a big shelf at home that houses his collection. he likes SMAP

he wants to travel overseas, but he's never tried it because of how unpredictable the clan's situation can be

he actually remembers a decent little portion of the English he learned in school and tries as much as he can to help any travelers who can't speak Japanese

he loves bath products. he has multiple scents of bubble bath on hand at home always. he has a rubber duckie with an eyepatch also.

after the events of yakuza 5 he finally sought out some therapy to work through some of his deep-rooted trauma. he's glad he did. nishida and saejima are the only ones who know about it.

in his newfound retirement, he starts creating art. paintings, little clay sculptures, building random things to put in his home. it brings him a lot of joy and keeps him feeling busy. it's good for him

OKAY that's enough for now. if you read all this you are my hero. I love you I hope you enjoyed these

#anonymous #asks #majima

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angrypedestrian · 3 years

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THE TIME IDIOTS EPISODE 603 TITLED “NBC, Fox, AND Eurovision (just in case) are calling their lawyers as we speak” MY THOUGHTS:

Previously on the CW presents Warner Brothers subsidiary DC Entertainment’s Legends of Tomorrow: goo =(

This week: what is, from my understanding, basically Catherynne Valente’s Space Opera??? Regardless: =)

She should also have her lawyer on call, just in case

SPEAKING of which, Eurovision is THIS WEEK. I highly recommend rooting for the Weird Teens From Iceland

I watch this live over air anddddd there is no sound coming through L O L

Also doing a sort of robocop thing too huh? i guess the lawsuit fees were just built into the budget orrrrr

AND we have sound

DO YOU THINK WE CAN AFFORD THE BUZZCOCKS TOO WHO DO YOU GUYS THINK YOU ARE

(but also this is one of the all time great rock songs fuck you show, and fun fact for those that don’t know, much like ol jonno, buzzcocks front man pete shelly was also bi!)

lets be real 4 phones is too many phones

lololololol well that is kind of a yoga retreat

wow rip dj s’more money

girl u don’t have to go to that funeral, you’d get so much more engagement if you didn’t if you think about it!!

Nate saying what we’re all thinking on that front. here’s hoping Da Throne keeps TV Grim Reaper in business that long

caity doing some real Acting here isn’t she hoo boy

oh please john can’t play guitar

NBC def has grounds to sue now with them barging in on Young Rock’s The Rock is president beat

this host man really not hiding his robot fucker fetish?? i do not think even network tv would allow that in 2045

i know they will defeat the robotman, but what if instead he learned....to love??

finally a young woman on this ship who doesn’t immediately want to climb mick like a tree.

mick: finally. fucking...finally

man robots are fuckin dumb

oooohh rude to mess up behrad’s feng shui

i really do wanna know how much more money WB gave them this year because these alien outfits, the CGI, so many sets??? like they gotta be working with at least $100 an ep now

also really shocked Leslayyy has survived this long. i hope she makes it through the end of the season

ALWAYS Z

ALWAYS

very excited for all my zava friends out there. your time to shine

lololol VEGAS ACT.

tala ashe needs to be making at least a million dollars an episode!!!

every time i have to see promo for Walker an angel loses its wings and falls straight down to hell

Honestly give the title to neon thrills, sorry zari

this gay man host definitely has something evil going on right?

ohhhhh tala needs at least 5 million for this episode

All I can think of is Sad Beyonce while she sings this very bad song

which is not Tala’s fault!! but is IS bad

honestly why is this sara and gary subplot happening. they’re fun together but it is just so incongruous with whatever else is happening

NO BAD. BAD ALIEN TONGUE TENTACLE THING

but still love this planet of Pink Vancouver

aw c’mon guys you can’t do the Location Full Of Avas thing TWICE

Nate and Behrad are too powerful and gay. i love this for them

i love that everyone thinks john is basically david blaine, except somehow worse

awwwwww maman

ZARI NO BAD ZARI YOU LOVE THAT DAVID BLAINE MAN

lololol yeah you do kinda look like criss angel lol

also put a shirt on john

love that nate and behrad went yes john this is a titty out look

you can’t use john’s kicky harpsicord music during a sad time!!! rude

awwww poor jonno

zari punch the s’more man in the face

honestly love the robotman at this point

and i still cannot get over the alien queen lady being named...Kayla?

good job lita being at college or whatnot. and awwww poor mick

....is Leslayyy an alien. or do people in 2045 just materialize? either seems plausible

well glad robotman’s society is far more advanced than ours

That’s right behrad!!! you get to hurt the s’more man first!

honestly you can’t prove nate wasn’t dj s’more money the whole time

i also hope whoever played robotman made a million dollars this episode they are KILLING IT

zari if you have learned one thing you should have learned by now that john always picks the WORST time for EVERYTHING

zari i want you to say yes but also if you do you WILL die because that’s just how it works with john

tala ashe singing the buzzcocks????? content for me?????? FOR ME??????

justice for neon thrills honestly why we didn’t get at least a one off lines from those kids they seem fun

and i am sure it goes without saying, but the Neal McDonough Memorial Can Get It Awards absolutely goes to Zari and John

also lol we can also afford rickenbackers on this show? this is how you KNOW legends has money now

who are these virtual audience members?? did i miss some sort of contest?

THEY’RE BOYFRIEND AND GIRLFRIEND

what the fuck....is this fucking thing. i swear to christ if you turn this into another beebo

no spooner’s right shoot it

HELL YEAH RORY GOOD JOB

It’s literally.....Kayla

Just.....Kayla

what

oh shit this is tala’s husband right?

good for her

Next week: oh no....legends does geopolitics....again

#legends of tomorrow #legends of tomorrow spoilers #kayla????????#the time idiots #my thoughts as i have them

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frightfurtabby · 3 years

Text

HimiKiyo Week 2021: Day 1- Creeping Darkness

//HimiKiyo Week 2021 is finally here! Took a little bit tonight to finalize edits and come up with a title. Look forward to more each day for the next week~

I’m proud, this is one of my longest singlechapter fics ever if not the longest

Links to other Platforms:

Amino: https://aminoapps.com/c/danganronpa/page/blog/himikiyo-week-2021-day-1/5B58_R2MsVulaQEnXkXVBzYlGjd3mXnP3Z

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34119466

The seaside village Himiko moved out to was more out of the way than the usual cities and suburbs. Apparently, her mentor couldn’t come. It was going to be a pain being out in that little house all alone. Who knows, maybe he’d sent another student of his the same kind of message?

To her disappointment there wasn’t anyone else, still not a single other apprentice known to her. She decided that after not doing anything yesterday but unpacking and eating and sleeping she would go over to the shrine marked on the local map. If nothing else she could pray for good luck before really getting down to working.

The course of this assignment and her whole life changed the moment she saw that strange figure at the offerings box while nobody else was around. They wore a long green kimono with beautiful dark hair almost matching that outfit in length. They looked to be glowing ethereally, with pale white skin akin to a porcelain doll.

Their hand was in the offerings box. At first she assumed they must be giving their own prayers and as such stayed back so as to not intrude. She noticed then that the figure was taking something *out* of the offerings box and that’s when she wondered if they were a thief.

“Fret not, these offerings are for me, dear human.” a voice came to her, seeming at first separate from the figure still several feet ahead. Someone addressing a person as “human” and saying it was their offering… She’d never seen a kami before, but that was the sole explanation that made everything make sense about them.

“Then you’re a kami?” she asked, quirking her eyebrow.

“That I am, I am called Shinguji. This family name refers to residing here, at the True Temple. My given name Korekiyo means just and pure”

“I-it’s a beautiful…” The mage was torn in half between the word ‘name’ and the word ‘place.’ The brook not far behind the pair was babbling audibly and birds were chirping. The water went past the trees and out to the river, which fed it almost directly into the ocean.

Even if something wicked this way was coming there was nothing yet to taint the natural beauty. She wasn’t sure if it would even be able to with a keeper this pretty.

“A beautiful what?” The spirit gently prodded her with the question. They had noticed her biting her lip in uncertainty.

“Name, your name is pretty. Uhh, and I’m…” she was too flustered to easily find any of the necessary words.

“You are Yumeno Himiko.”

“So you knew that already?” It was not that surprising in hindsight, but in that moment she was caught off guard, focusing on trying not to be so tense in their presence like she had been up to that point. She worried she was giving off the wrong message.

“I intuited it, but I don’t blame you for being surprised. Most humans think of us Kami as mythology, but I’ve known these old figures, and dealt with many creatures as my neighbors in my centuries of life.”

“In that case then are you able to intuit why I’m here?” The mage tried hard not to sound too much like a schoolgirl talking to her popular crush.

“I could. It would be easier if you told me. Whatever it is, you seem particularly stressed out by it.” They tilted their head slightly, a very human gesture, and it was clear they were reading deeper. Either humans had gotten it from the ancient gods or vice-versa. One of those things nobody would ever be able to remember the origin of.

It was better to answer the question than get too off track wondering about that.

“Well, my master who is a magician told me there was something that was going to go wrong here. He gave me the mission to stop it.”

It was Kiyo’s turn to be concerned.

“Well, I have been given whispers that a nasty yokai is approaching this land. It comes from the far north and wishes to sap power for itself. Very few claiming to be survivors of this have shown up, and we’re all so isolated these days...”

That was a bad sign.

“Is it because of us?” If her master had worried so much about it then there was no doubt in her mind that this thing would be going after humans if it hadn’t already started.

“Not all of you, but some who are greedy have broken many natural connections and scattered the so-called mythical creatures and spirits away. In a way it’s beautiful, the circle of life even. Although, it is believed perhaps negative energy has attracted this beast from its home and onto its rampaging path.”

A realization hit her. In her research she found that even things that you would not expect to have a soul or a consciousness did at least have the same kind of natural energy as things that did. So objects and anything/everything else with a soul would be susceptible to producing negative energy.

“So it's a cycle of things feeding into it.”

“Yes. I fear if it gets to a certain point it’ll have enough momentum that there will be no stopping it. So you should think about what you will do to face the possibility.”

Something about those words felt familiar. Even though it was a serious topic, Himiko was comforted.

“And you need someone like me to stand a chance?”

“The more the merrier, of course. There are things even I may have missed and for that you can be an extra set of eyes and ears. We’re going to train and prepare.”

The rest of that afternoon was spent, at first guided by Kiyo and by the end on her own, getting more used to the area and learning some specific landmarks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Starting the following day, Himiko started up a routine to come back every day, which would last for several months. Each day she learned new things about the old times that had only ever been guessed about from artifacts. She learned that even Kami had a cutoff point in memory, even if it did happen to be thousands of years stronger than mortals. The only truly omnipotent beings were those that had created earth eons ago, who were as elusive as ever.

She also trained. Oh, how wonderful it was to train again. And with a more formidable opponent than most people she would ever encounter normally. After each session she was told more about the species of yokai, and which were more likely to be dangerous foes that needed preparation for.

They would pray and make wishes for having strength and safety at the lucky rock on the path along the brooks. Kiyo allowed Himiko to take and keep a bit of power from it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It happened when she thought it was going to be just another day of what they had been doing. It was not.

There was something off in the air. And it wasn’t just the dead trees, those were normal for winter. What wasn’t normal was the small patches of rot in them already, the rot had even spread to the grass and other plants on the ground. There was a trail of it and it reeked of a nasty yokai. A being only interested in death and destruction.

Even worse was that Kiyo was nowhere to be found. They had made a game plan about that, Himiko was to check somewhere inside the shrine in order to find clues. Inside the prayer chamber proper it was a mess just like it would be in the case of any other type of break in. The rot hadn't set in because the room was blessed and was better able to resist, but there was a distinct trail of slime that showed its movement and the room.

She could picture Kiyo weaving around it and dodging attacks to have a chance to hit back at it. The fight had torn up the screens and the ancient art it depicted, and even punctured holes in the inner walls and flooring. An extra band of beads like one Kiyo would often wear was left behind. The signal was received.

Something wasn’t right, however. A presence that was too strong to be explained by the evil residue. It seemed like what they were working against had minions left behind, for the exact reason that someone like her was in the area and had to be stopped. The question was how many were there?

Five of them came up from either the ground or one of the holes puncturing the walls, one right before her and four circling around, forming seemingly out of the shadows and the goo. They quickly solidified into dark shapes that were much like werewolves, though she recognized among them different animal traits expressed. One even had bunny-esque lop ears.

Himiko took out her wand and started muttering some spells under her breath, making a broad sweeping motion to keep all at bay. The one closest was pushed back and stumbled in surprise. Trying to charge her led to an acrobatic maneuver: it leapt over onto its back and she whipped out a stage magician-like string of handkerchiefs and pulled it up to start choking the beast out.

They surprisingly weren’t as vicious as she’d imagined from how each of them had shown up. It couldn’t do any of its special moves. Unfortunately, its friends could, and they did. They rushed and she let go for a moment, tripping up one and using its momentum in a way it crashed into the first one before it could recover.

Swinging off it allowed her to jump up and kick a third before lashing a whip of electricity from her wand, yanking the fourth and gaining momentum by bouncing off it with a drop kick right about where the lungs were.

Watching them struggle, she realized they had once been animal spirits for sure, only to have been corrupted. They weren’t just something conjured by their boss.

Hesitation for even one second almost cost her when one swiped claws, just barely missing her and taking her hat instead. The advantage of being shorter than the monsters was they’d miss like that. And much like the stage magic she pretended to use in daily life, the hat was spring-loaded with some friends for them to play with. A magic box that was shattered by the attack let out doves of magical energy that distracted each as well as a jack-in-the-box dummy that took her place as a target for just long enough to take one out.

Even though the trick had been figured out, she could tell from their expressions changing the exact instant of the realization there wasn’t much the poor things could do when the tide had been turned. The rest of them were dispatched with a quick volley of attack spells. She sprinted out, conjuring another hat loaded with a similar trick from her storage at home, just in case. It was more physically exhausting than mana draining so she borrowed from her reserve to recover breath and catch up sooner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She crossed her fingers that those things weren’t going to be much more of a problem on the way over. The trail grew cold on her about a dozen times already the past 4 days but each time she doubled back to a previous checkpoint, there was another sign she’d accidentally glossed over. Each time something was left in an obscure place: a back alley or a bush only to be dragged out by a cat, occasionally right to her.

Whether it was an order from Kiyo or someone else, she wasn’t sure, but all the help was appreciated.

It seemed to be that when it took someone, it had to complete a loop back home. It was much faster than she could follow on foot. So the mage took to various buses and trains when she needed to.

Himiko hadn’t slept in nearly 24 hours by the 4th night, and all the past nights had been similarly lacking in rest. She’d set alarms to go off within a few hours of very scattered naps so she’d at least run decently when it finally came down to it.

She snuck out of an inn somewhere very rural and very cold in the northern reaches of Hokkaido. She could just feel the cave system nearby was definitely the origin point of the attacker.

Before she could even begin the climb upwards, an upright, tall figure came barrelling down in her direction, diving from above off of a rock and gliding down gracefully, coughing and panting, falling to their knees after the taxing stunt. That fall easily could have killed a human, plus most people couldn’t fly without magical objects.

“We need to get back up there, hurry!”

“Kiyo!”

However, before the first shape could speak further they were interrupted from behind Himiko. Just a few feet downhill a second Kiyo was standing.

“Don’t Himiko! That thing can become other entities!”

The first Kiyo to arrive chuckled and shook their head. “Well, that’s true, clever of you to tell her first.” A deep sigh later, they continued. “Shame I’ve heard of that little trick before and prepared something for this kind of thing.”

“A double cross is it?” the second Kiyo asked. “It’s quite a claim you have there, being the real me, having planned for your own deception.”

Whichever Kiyo was the real one, it was hard to tell at first. The two auras had been in close proximity so a mage in training would have a hard time pulling apart which was which. Then the first Kiyo cleared their throat again.

“Well then, I have a proposition.” they said, turning their attention back to Himiko. “Yumeno Himiko should be able to ask a question, then see how both of us answer, and she’ll know which of us is real.”

“Of course, after spending so long with me she’s bound to know the real one. I’d be crazy to decline,” the beast said.

Kiyo knew this thing would do anything to avoid being pegged as suspicious. It was a double bind for the beast. The only way this was ending was fighting it. This was part of that plan. Delaying it just a tad until the right time.

Himiko cleared her throat, glancing between the two one more time before she closed her eyes. It was nerve wracking but as long as it wanted to not out itself, the yokai would never blindside attack her.

“My question is very simple: What is it that I was training to do?”

The creature nodded. “Understood. This one is easy. We were going to stop the one who’s taken all those others and stop them from taking enough power for its plan.” It turned to Kiyo, giving a taunting glare. “And before the monster tries any trickery, to be specific, we were practicing your magic and got you a mana boost. It’ll help the new technique not be so taxing on you.”

That was almost entirely correct. Kiyo knew then their suspicion was right and something in the area had been spying and relayed all its gathered information back to prepare this creature for any threats that may spring up. That’s what attacked first, the helpers that Himiko had to fend off to get here.

“Alright. My turn.” Kiyo remained characteristically calm face to face. “We were training. So I don’t have to repeat what the other me said, I’ll agree. However, there was something missing from that answer.”

“Missing? What, pray tell, did I miss?”

“The mana boost served as a test to see if you were already there. And I felt something that may have been a minion performing recon.” Emphasis on the last word. That was something Kiyo had been anticipating. Before they had been taken, she was given a code word. They only mentioned it to her in a whisper on the day that they felt a presence leave to the north with no other context. ‘Recon’ was that word.

Eye contact was made, Himiko gave a slight nod to show that she understood and it was off to the races. She went on ahead, up one path leaving the Kiyos behind. It was a signal to the real Korekiyo. And so, the two fought again, much like they had when the faker had invaded the temple and kidnapped them to try and complete the ritual.

They weaved in and out, sometimes further to one side away from Himiko and her destination when Kiyo was having their way and closer, forcing her to duck and use repulsion spells to avoid being caught up in the scuffle. Kiyo’s attacks looked like needles when they flew at their enemy, so she even gave those attacks a boost. She heard the cries of anger and pain when one managed to hit just the right place.

The yokai was a resilient one though, it would just pluck them right out and fire back energy attacks of their own. One of them hit Kiyo and sent them tumbling back down the mountain some distance, dropping several dozen feet to a thud.

They got back up almost instantly, knowing how much danger the girl ahead was in, and pulled out a pair of scythe to quickly dig into the mountain’s side and climb up to a point where they could launch up and gain enough momentum to catch up right behind that yokai.

Faster than ever, Himiko ran. It seemed being tired was starting to slow both down the further up the mountain the climb went. She dove and rolled right into the cave and the faker caught up, confirming even further that it was the yokai when it dove to try and stop her from entering, the disguise melting away grotesquely. She didn’t even have time to be offended at it ruining and distorting those beautiful features because of how fast it barrelled back into the base.

All she could do was point her wand directly in its face and say the words. Like a bullet, red light with a pointed tip struck right through an already gaping hole that showed the black flame-like matter that was its heart. The evil and corrupt soul was pierced.

It could barely re-shape itself anymore with its wounds. It stared at her with half its true features and half rippling nothingness as the face it wore sloughed off and dissipated like a puddle under sunlight. Even the animal-like maw began falling off, fangs first.

Then Kiyo wrestled it from behind and wrapped it in chains of light. It was likely already dying. But part of its corrupt nature would linger in this spot if it was not sealed and purified.

“What no! Nooooo”. It started shrieking when the shock of being blindsided had finally worn off and it found itself in chains, being dragged away towards the cave’s inner chamber. It was powerless to do anything but watch these interlopers ruin everything.

“Unfair, unfair, unfaaiiiiir.” Most of the thrashing came in the form of weak kicks. It was truly pitiful for something that had beaten kami before. .

“What a childish temper tantrum.” Kiyo scoffed at it, only briefly turning a shoulder to pay it any mind as they continued towards the end of the mission. It was so mad, and nipped away trying to bite its captor in spite of there being no chance of succeeding now. .

Himiko came to a strange spot on the back wall and Kiyo lifted the beast over their shoulders and used its paw to unlock a big room full of artifacts, a bunch of seals on them to keep its victims contained. Many tomes of black magic and scribbles showcased a plot to steal power from all the shrine deities to build a “Domain of Darkness”. In which it plotted to prevent the sun from ever rising above Japan, and the whole planet after long enough, ever again. This would remove power from any being who got magic from natural resources and would kill billions of mortals.

Himiko looked at the plans and laughed nervously, sweating a bit.

“So um… you don’t think that this would have worked?” she asked, desperately wanting this to just be the pipe dream of an arrogant monstrosity.

“Absolutely not. I’m by no means the strongest of my kind, and you’re still training. It took prisoners, yes, but this is delusional. We won in part because we were underestimated. That kind of fatal mistake would have doomed this plan eventually.”

A sad whimpering came from it, laying on the ground in defeat.

Himiko was tasked to watch over it while Kiyo performed the unsealing rituals. Each one she spared glances at, admiring them from her spot in the center of the room. She could almost feel a tinge of jealousy among the defeat and anger emanating from their felled foe. It was way more interesting watching Kiyo work and chat with each spirit that was freed. Each time they agreed instantly to help get the rest out, which hastened the process.

Each one helped before some left to make sure their shrines were fine. The remainder, led by Kiyo, thanked Himiko. Their hands warm around hers. Kiyo felt every little soft spot on her hands and even some slight callusing, presumably from the fighting. Even those bits were lovely.

“You can go home now. It’s getting late but we need to stay for now. I will return to you with the important news.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Himiko got home first, since that was decided as the meeting place. It was far enough from the shrine that it wouldn’t be immediately obvious if that entity came back for another round. She got on her knees in front of her bed, elbows firmly leaning into the mattress so she could clasp and pray. She was exhausted.

“Please let it be gone once and for all.” She trusted Kiyo could do that much.

Then she was awoken by footsteps and sat upright to who was joining her. Her door had opened and glowing in the moonlight, Kiyo came in, closing the door behind them.

“I have seen to it that this chapter is done.” The spirit held a hand to her cheek and gently brushed a long finger across part of her face. “Thank you, your journey has only truly just begun but you can relax for now.”

Himiko was flushed a bright red.

“I was struck by your beauty from the moment that I walked to your shrine.” Her heart raced. They’d touched a couple times by now but this was the most breathtaking and close. The most intimate. She raised a hand of her own and touched Kiyo’s arm gently.

A soft smile spread on the spirit’s lips. “Oh, I could tell. I could also tell that there was a pull here. Some call I needed to answer for you and it's only become more clear that there was more to it than that.”

Time felt like it slowed down to a stop as the two maintained soft eye contact.

Then they kissed her. A warmth emanated from them, pulsing like a heartbeat.

“More to it?” she asked, even though the kiss gave her a very good idea of what they were going to tell her next.

“I love you. And so… I want it to actually be *our* journey.” They heavily emphasized the word indicating that the adventure would be shared. It already was, it had been since the day she came to this place.

“Would it really be okay? For you to leave your shrine I mean. When it comes time for that.”

“No worries about that, I can find someone for that when that’s necessary.”

#HimiKiyo #Himiko Yumeno #Korekiyo Shinguji #himikiyo week #fanfic #writing #ao3 #amino #danganronpa #danganronpa v3

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solarwindswriting · 3 years

Text

Oh, The Places You’ll Go

Chapter 3

First Chapter / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Loosely inspired by the song Greek Tragedy by the Wombats

Pairing: Scotty x FemalePresenting!Reader

Word Count: 1411

Summary: On to the Enterprise we go!

Warnings: none that I can think of

A/N: I posted this to the wrong account at first ahhhh. Sooo, this is going to be a bit of a slow burn. But I’ve already written up to part 6 and will be posting one part a day!

Tags: @mournthewicked @damalseer

Y/n wakes up to the most obnoxious beeping sounds. With a groan, she turns off the alarm, rubbing her eyes awake. Sitting up, Y/n looks around the room. Still dark outside. ‘Why am I up? Oh, right!’ Y/n thought to herself. Jumping out of bed, she clutches her dresser, bracing herself from falling. Dizzy, very very dizzy. She drank too much last night. Walking into the bathroom, and regretting turning on the light, Y/n got ready for the day. Washing off the grim from the last two days, Y/n relishes the warm water on her back. This will probably be the last time she gets to take a long shower.

Y/n is smoothing out her type b uniform shirt when she hears a knock at the door. The door was open by the time she got there and in the doorway stood Sara in her bright golden uniform shirt, a just as bright smile and a duffle across her back.

“You ready for the rest of your life, Y/n?” Sara rocks on her heels.

Still a bit groggy, Y/n hums to her friend while reaching for her own duffle, “How are you so awake? It’s 6:30 in the morning.”

“Because I’m already two cups of coffee in. Have you had breakfast?” Sara questions as the two make their way down the steps of their apartment.

“No, you’re not supposed to eat before a shuttle transport. You know that.” Y/n chuckles.

The two walk in comfortable silence. The train station was unsurprisingly quiet as they take their seats on the way to the shuttle bay.

“The new Enterprise is less than a year old. It’s outfitted with all the new shiny toys. I’m very excited to see the bridge. I heard they used a new transparent aluminum alloy for the main viewport that’s clearer than ever before.” Sara muses while watching the buildings pass.

A voice overhead announces we are arriving at the Federation shuttle bay. Y/n and Sara stand to leave. The train comes to a stop and the sliding doors open. Climbing up the stairs reveals a bustling hanger full of recruits.

“Sara, Y/n!” Calls the Russian accent of one Pavel Chekov. “This way!” He signals to follow him.

The two sprint to catch up to Pavel and separate into one of the Enterprise transport shuttles of their respective departments. Strapping her bag above them, Y/n takes a seat next to Commander Spock. People continue to file in. After about 30 minutes, 7 shuttles transport the entirety of the 450 person crew aboard the Enterprise.

“New Science Officers, please follow me,” Spock speaks clearly as he stands from his seat. Returning crew follows him out of the shuttle while the new members scurry to retrieve their bags. 5 new science officers in total exit the shuttle last, following Spock through the hallways.

“First, I will show you the 14 science labs and who will be heading them. Each one will have a specific topic of research, but all will help another when needed,” Spock drones while tapping a datapad. “Secondly, I will show you to your quarters.”

The halls of the Enterprise were bright white and smelled of mild cleaning supplies. They file into a turbo lift to deck 5. Y/n peaks at the other 4 new members of the science crew and notices she is the only one who has a rank higher than Ensign. Stepping off the turbo lift, The group makes their way down a hallway when Commander Spock stops.

“This is Lab 1; which will focus on stellar cartography as we travel deeper into space. It will be lead be Leuitenant Viann.” Spock motions towards the lab.

Inside stands a slender Vulcan setting up his lab. Spock continues to introduce the different labs and leaders, which Y/n quickly loses track of and begins to zone out. That is until Commander Spock says her name.

“To repeat myself, since Lieutenant Junior Grade Y/l/n has decided to check back in. Lab 13, focused on Bio-mimetic Gel and other potential medical substances, lead by one Lieutenant Junior Grade Y/l/n.”

“Yes, sorry Commander.” Y/n apologizes, now fully attentive.

“And lastly,” Spock continues to walk. “Lab 14, focused on gravimetric field displacement manifold, lead by Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Scott.”

Y/n looks into the lab and makes eye contact with Scotty, who gives her a small wave and a smile. She does the same. Spock goes back down the same hallway they just came from to lead the new crew towards their quarters. Y/n follows from the back, stopping for a second to look into the lab she will be working in. Far more state of the art than what she has been working in. Her studies will progress much fast on here.

Spock shows them to Deck 8, where they will be living for the next 5 years. The new ship supports enough room for every crew member to have their own room. Y/n throws her duffle onto her bed and unzips it to put her few civilian clothes into the closet that had 5 changes of uniform already hanging. A knock on the door echoed as Y/n hung her royal blue dress up.

“Come in,” Y/n calls over her shoulder.

The door slides open revealing a younger crewmate no older than 20 who quickly salutes. “Ma’am, Lieutenant Commander Scott requests your presence in Lab 14.”

“Thank you, but I am not high enough rank for you to be saluting, and I’m not old enough to be called ma’am,” Y/n chuckles, reaching out her arm. “What’s your name? I’m Y/l/n.”

“Very sorry, ma-, Y/l/n. I am Jason Reed.” He shakily takes her hand.

“First ship? Me too.” Y/n laments while she follows the ensign out of her room after grabbing her datapad. “Did Lieutenant Command Scott mention why he was requesting my assistance?”

“He mentioned something about some gel being delivered to the wrong lab?” Reed’s face contorted as he tried hard to remember his exact words.

“Huh, okay. Thank you for showing me the way. Lord knows I’ll be lost for the first month on here.” This causes Ensign Reed to chuckle.

The turbo lift doors open to Deck 5 and a slightly sweaty Scotty.

“Oh, good. You’re here,” Scotty huffs, “can you tell me why 5 crates of highly volatile goo were delivered to my lab?”

“Thank you for the escort, Reed. I believe I can find the way from here,” Y/n smiles at the ensign as the doors to the lift close after stepping out. “As for why the bio-mimetic gel was delivered to lab 14 instead of 13, I have no idea. But I’m happy to help you move it to my lab.”

“Well, let’s get going then, Lass,” Scotty says, turning and walking towards the labs.

“How does an engineer get access to a whole lab anyways?” Y/n questions.

“I came up with a fancy equation. How’d a Lieutenant Junior Grade get access to a whole lab?” Scotty’s accent was thick, but not as thick as it was when he was drinking.

“I came up with a fancy equation too,” Y/n laughs at herself repeating what the engineer had said.

After about half an hour of carefully moving crates of bio-mimetic gel, the two were finished.

“Sorry about the mix-up, Commander. It won’t happen again.” Y/n said, wiping her hands on the sides of her pants.

“I thought I told you to call me Scotty, lass.” Scotty remarks as he enters Lab 13 with two teacups, handing one to Y/n, “Earl Grey.”

“Thank you,” Y/n whispers, setting it down to hop up and sit on the lab table before picking it back up and taking a sip. “Please sit.”

Scotty sits in one of the chairs surrounding the lab table in front of Y/n. They both sip their tea in silence until Y/n speaks.

“So, I heard you were marooned on Delta Vega for half an Earth year.”

“Marooned!?” Scotty gawks as he sits up straight. “I was left for dead! You beam one beagle off-planet and you’re left for the drakoulias’.”

“Did you ever find it?” Y/n laughs at the engineer’s outburst.

“No,” Scotty whispers.

“Hm?”

“No! I never found that damn beagle.” Scotty laughs.

#scotty x reader #montgomery scott x reader #montgomery scott aos #montgomery scott imagine #star trek aos #solarwindswriting

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skygirl5 · 3 years

Text

12 Prompts of Christmas - #4 Snow Globe

FOUR - Snow Globe

Setting: Castle, post-show

Walking into her daughter’s room, Kate walked immediately to the crib and scooped up the whimpering infant. “There, there little love. Mama’s got you. Did you have a nice nap?” In her favorite spot snuggled against her mother’s chest, Lily settled down quickly and was soon goo-ing happily. Cradling her head, Kate lifted the baby from her shoulder, nuzzled the tips of their noses together, and then carried Lily over to her changing table.

“Are you ready for your second round of Christmas little one? I know, I know—this morning was very exciting but now Pop-pop is here to see you and he’s got something special for you.”

Kate chatted as she changed Lily into her second Christmas outfit of the day: white leggings beneath a red, green, and gold plaid dress that had a white lace collar. This outfit was much nicer than the green My First Christmas onesie she’d warn that morning because the hope was to get some nice family pictures now that the entire Beckett-Castle clan was under one roof. That was the wish, at least. Time would tell to see if Lily was interested in the photo shoot or not.

Earlier that day Kate had begun her very first Christmas with her daughter and though it had begun at five-forty-five—more than an hour before she would have liked—she had absolutely no complaints at all, because it was their first Christmas as a family of three. She had looked forward to that moment for longer than she realized and it was just as lovely as she’d hoped. All the excitement she had, however, paled in comparison to her husband, who had popped out of bed almost right away and begun loading Kate’s lap with wrapped presents while she breastfed until she laughingly had to ask him to stop because she was running out of space.

At just seven months old, Lily had absolutely no concept of Christmas or any clue why her parents were excitedly holding up new clothes and toys for her to see. In fact, at one-point Kate suspected she became overwhelmed and started to cry, so Castle took her for a little stroll around the kitchen as he whispered hushed words into her ear. When he brought her back a few minutes later she’d returned to her happy, gurgling self and proceeded to grab at the wrapping paper until her pudgy fists were full and her one-toothed smile shined bright.

Where some women floated through their pregnancies happily, Kate had found hers to be utter drudgery. She and Castle had been so excited in the face of the positive pregnancy test, and when she made it the first few weeks without much nausea, she actually thought maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. And it wasn’t, until around the eighth week, when her body decided to—for lack of a better term—freak out completely.

The nausea hit her like a bag of bricks; she could hardly keep any food down. Then, the muscle cramps started. At first she thought it was dehydration and lack of nutrients due to her never-ending vomiting, but when the abdominal pain came with it she was fearful she was having a miscarriage. A trip to the ER told her that was not the case, and a follow up with her OB told her that she was most likely just one of the women who experienced an unusual amount of discomfort as their uterus expanded and some of their organs rearranged to make space. Coupled with this, the doctor theorized that that process was partially hindered by some remaining scar tissue she had in her abdomen thanks to the bullet wounds she had sustained at the hand of Caleb Brown. On the advice of her doctors, she’d waited six months after the shooting before trying to get pregnant and her wounds should have been healed, but she supposed scar tissue hadn’t exactly been taken into account.

For the next seven months Kate had far more miserable days than not. The pain radiated from her abdomen to her back and, as her daughter grew, spread into her hips. She was exhausted all the time and found herself sobbing in her husband’s arms every few days. All her life Kate had been the person who pulled herself up by her bootstraps and fought through pain and whatever else came her way, but during pregnancy she simply…couldn’t. There were days when that truly terrified her, but through all of it her husband was her rock. Castle had been there for every single second, being more supportive than she could have ever wished for. He rubbed her back and her legs daily without ever being asked. He ran out for supplies at all hours of the day and night and read dozens of articles and blogs looking for ideas or tips to make her feel better. He was incredible and she couldn’t have loved him more deeply for it.

Despite her misery, the one thing that kept Kate going was Lily. The thought of eventually being able to hold her daughter in her arms helped Kate through some of the roughest days of her life. When she was feeling particularly bad, it was almost as though Lily knew somehow, for she would bump a foot or an elbow against Kate’s stomach and reminded her of why she was doing this. She was going to be a mom, and it was going to be wonderful.

Ironically, when Kate did finally go into labor, Lily’s delivery ended up being rather easy. Of course that might have just been because she expected it to be dreadful given all the pain she’d experience, but it wasn’t. Lily was born a week before her due date at seven pounds, three ounces and when she was placed on Kate’s chest, Kate knew she would have gone through the misery of her pregnancy ten times over just to experience that moment; it was perfect.

Though she had been nervous about her skills as a mother, Kate quickly found they came quite naturally. She’d never say it was easy but with her husband being as wonderful—and experienced!—as he was, they were a very happy, healthy family. Lily hit all her milestone goals and really her only struggle to date had been the introduction of new foods, none of which she preferred to her mother’s breastmilk. Except mashed bananas—those were her favorite.

After going back to work full time when Lily was four months old, Kate felt the fall had passed in an instant and the holiday season was soon upon them. Of course Castle, who loved the holidays already, wanted to go all out for her first Christmas, though Kate tried to reign him in the best she could, reminding him that some of his amazing ideas might be better saved for the following year when their child could stand, let alone sit, by herself. He conceded some ideas, but others he refused to let go of, though she couldn’t really blame him for that; she was excited too.

Once Lily was dressed, she held the girl at her hip as they descended the stairs. They were first greeted by Martha and Alexis, who hugged her and kissed her, then Kate took Lily over to her father, who Lily had taken quite a shine to. She immediately began cooing and reaching out her pudgy hands towards the gray-haired man, who didn’t hesitate to take her into his arms.

“Well hello, Lily. Don’t you look so pretty in your Christmas dress? Mmhm yes you do. Would you like to see what I got you for Christmas?”

“Ohh Lil—let’s go see what Pop-pop got you,” Castle said excitedly. The trio walked over to the seating area where Jim held Lily with one arm while pulling out the small wrapped box he’d brought with the other. They sat on the couch together and he held her against his chest while he unwrapped the gift in front of her. From inside the box he pulled out a very small snow globe that had a Santa figurine inside the swirling world of snow. On the front was a small sign that read “My First Christmas.”

“Oh wow, look at that Lily.” Kate sat beside her father and shook the snow globe, so the particles swirled around. Lily watched it curiously for a moment then grinned and smacked her hands against it excitedly. Kate laughed. “I think she likes it; thanks Dad.”

Hugging his granddaughter tight he said, “No problem, Katie; no problem at all.”

#castle #caskett #castle fanfiction #castleficathonwinter2020 #12PromptsofChristmas #my fic: 12 Prompts of Christmas #'

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writing-the-end · 3 years

Text

LoL Chapter 42- Crossfire

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

When the Forest has control of lightning magic, someone is bound to be struck.

Warning: mentions of abuse, invasive thoughts

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The deeper they got into the forest, the worse the illusions got. No one was safe, no matter how many talismans, potions, and mental exercises they run through. Sometimes the hermits have no choice but to stop and console a team member who’s being affected by the Forest. Warm hugs bring Cleo back from the long locked away memory of her death, how she became who she is now. It wasn’t until three potions and the welcoming press of his zweihander resting in his hand that Wels is able to ignore the illusions. And Grian nearly flies away as the Forest reminds him of how many times he’s been thrown out of every orphanage and guild he entered. If it weren’t for the hermits, he’d be alone, lost. And at the will of the Hangman’s Playground.

Scar feels the sting of torn skin, right along where he got his namesake, before the rest of the illusion appears. Such a peaceful, normal forest. He tries to focus on the trees, the creek he passes by, with gentle animals of all kinds drinking from the fresh spring water. Of the perfect placement of rocks, ferns, even the way the dirt curls over roots.

“No merchant’s son will be seen playing in dirt!” The hot sting of blood, of torn skin marred by rich jewels and gilded rings. His father’s voice growls through the extravagant manor.

“And he tracked mud onto the entrance carpet! There’s no possible way we can get that stain out!”

“I wasn’t playing in dirt.” Scar whispers, daring to defy his parents. To speak out without being told to speak. His voice is young, pitching up and down across his words, tinged with anger and contempt. “I was practicing my magic. I was creating something ahmazin’.”

“I forbid you from ever using your magic! It’s a disgrace that my son’s magic is so...is so messy!” Scar’s feet were no longer on the ground, though he can faintly feel the soft compress of dirt in the forest, the illusion tells him otherwise. His father’s opulent outfit, matched with the bloody rings he wears on each and every finger, his hand balled in a fist in Scar’s collar. “You will let your worthless magic die, and do exactly as you are told.”

But Scar’s own thoughts rebuke the forest, without need of a single potion or talisman. Because he remembers what happened next. He spent his youth practicing in secret, and as soon as he knew he could make it on his own, he set off. From that moment forward, he defied his father by nurturing his magic, rather than letting it die. From that moment forward, he never did what he was told.

And that led him to the hermits, his best friends, his family. He remembers the fateful day he met BDubs, pure happenstance and Scar’s own proclivity for disaster. He was in a tree, trying to better understand how trees form and grow to mimic in his magic- he wanted to make it as perfect as nature itself- when he fell backwards and ended up crushing the hermit just walking through the woods.

If it wasn’t for his act of defiance that night, he wouldn’t have found his true family. If it wasn’t for that night, he wouldn’t have become the S-Class mage he is now. He wouldn’t have won in the Chimaera’s Championship. The night the Forest of Memories chose was one of the worst nights of his life, but it was also the beginning of the best thing ever to happen to him. The beginning of his new life, with his true family.

The illusion shatters, like glass, fractals dissolving and lost in the wind. Scar smiles, looking around at his friends. Those who welcomed his magic, let him nurture it. “Have I told you how much I love you guys?”

“Look, I think we’re getting close to whatever is hidden in here.” Doc points out, his hand on his friend’s shoulder. In the distance, red light bounces and is absorbed by the warm brown bark of the trees. Another leyline, just as large and pulsing with stolen lifeforce. They’re so close, they’ve come so far. Certainly there’s no way they can lose themselves now, they’ve been fighting it off successfully for who knows how long.

But not everyone is successful in fighting off memories. At the back of the group, Mumbo wipes away the tears in his eyes. He doesn’t warn the others about the memories playing around him. He doesn’t want to disappoint the hermits.

Not like he disappointed his dad. The Forest of Memories, the Hangman’s Playground, has dug up his worst fears, and replays every time he’s failed his father. Every time he returned from one failed guild exam after another. The sidelong glances and long tirades of how much of a disappointment Mumbo was. Every single one, from his first exam when he turned thirteen, to the last exam before he was disowned.

It was that one that hurt the most. And it was that one that the Forest replays not just in Mumbo’s mind, but all around him. The trees turn to pillars, and Mumbo is standing on the expansive steps of his family’s manor. His father’s stern face looks down at him, clean shaven and hair slicked back harshly. The tight pull of the starched white collar of Mumbo’s shirt is even harsher, but nothing compares to the dense silence between father and son.

He was a disgrace to the family. Dozens of guilds, laughing at the family line for creating such a worthless progeny. Dozens of guilds, turning him away after he failed their gauntlets, exams, and prerequisites. No matter what Mumbo tried, no matter what he did, he could never be good enough for his father. Not the way he was.

“Miriam.” Mumbo tips his head up to meet his father’s stern, cold eyes. “Come back a guildmember, or don’t bother coming back at all.”

He failed his family. He’s failed so many. He’s failed his family, he’s failed to help Gildara, or Danes. Fight after fight, battle after battle, he’s always the weakest link. He’s always been failing the hermits. And he’s failing them now.

He’s the weakest link, and the Forest knows it. It knows he will fail, just like always. Mumbo wipes away tears, and discovers he’s in total darkness. The memory is gone, but the illusion kept it’s grasp on Mumbo.

“Why would we want to be your friends?” A sneering voice echoes through the darkness, an accent all too familiar, the words all the more painful to be held by Iskall’s voice.

“You can’t even use your own magic. All that power, wasted on a weakling.” A shadow passes in the emptiness, and Mumbo barely catches a glimpse of the brown, furry dog tail.

A high pitched laughter, followed by the scrape of metal against stone. “You can’t fight, you can’t defend, you can’t even heal. At this point, you’re just dragging us down. We should have cut you down long ago.”

The swing of a saber appears in the night, and Mumbo staggers backward as Cleo’s saber nearly cuts his chest open. In the foggy darkness, he can just make out her eyes. Or where there should be Cleo’s sea blue eyes. Instead, all he saw was oozing, black goo, pouring like viscous tears down her seafoam green skin. She’s gone, disappearing back into the darkness, a shark cutting through the waves.

Mumbo attempts escape, but no matter where he crawls, the ebony darkness has him trapped. Laughter, voices rise from the void, whispers and shouts. Voices he knows, like those of his friends. Scar, Jevin, Hypno, even TFC. Berating him for being a useless member of the guild, that he’s just the jester, the pet. Of his father, yelling about the shame, that he wishes Mumbo was better, stronger, worthwhile. And voices he doesn’t know apart from the words they spit out. Bullies in school, taunting him in magic class for not even being able to call on his magic. Bullies in guilds, casting him out and laughing with every mistake he made. The guild leaders, sneering and jeering before, during, and after his failed tests.

There was no escape from these dark thoughts, not when the Hangman’s Playground plays them out before his very eyes. Memories of reality, and memories of the fears and ‘what ifs’ he’s played a thousand times over in his head. He hears the voices he knows, just knows the other hermits say behind his back. He feels the stinging betrayal as they kick him out, the very words dozens of other guilds have told him before. He watches Grian leave him for better, stronger friends.

Mumbo reaches out for Grian, his best friend, shaking fingers just barely able to grip onto the tarlike wings of the agnel. Like a bird trapped in oil, each feather dripping with the black goo. “G-Grian, please, I promise I’ll work har-”

Grian turns around, hand slapping away Mumbo’s own, and the empty black goo of Grian’s eyes stare into Mumbo. Pinning him down, too afraid to fight back. To weak to fight back. “Forget it, Mumbo. You’re useless, you can’t even draw your own magic circle. I don’t know why I bothered to ever save you, that day so long ago.”

Beside Grian, Iskall’s laughter pierces through Mumbo’s heart. It feels so cold, so abrasive, even though nothing has changed about that tittering laugh of his friend. Mumbo shrinks awake, wiping the tears that cascade like a waterfall down his face. “I-I can be better, I can do better! Please don’t leave me!”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.” The hiss from Iskall, slicing across his beard, catching the sludge and twisting in his facial hair. “Prove that you’re this mega awesome multi-mage of doom, and not some puny mega weakling that we know you are.”

Mumbo’s panicking. He has to do it. Just this once, he has to unleash his power. So he can keep his friends. Closing his eyes, he digs deep. He tries to ignore the jeers and laughter around him, focusing in on his magic. His hands shake, but he tears down the walls he’s set up to protect himself, protect everyone from the surges he’s prone to. Mumbo can’t hold back on his powers, not unless he wants to hold onto his friends. He feels the power rushing through his body, but he doesn’t stop. He will prove it- he’s not worthless.

Grian turns around, noticing that there’s one less person in the group. They’re so close, he can feel a change in the atmosphere around him. It reminds him of when they were in Gildara, but stronger. Like the entire world is pressing on his shoulders. “Mumby?”

Mumbo’s on the ground, kneeling with fingers clutched in the forest floor. His shoulders rise and fall, and Grian realizes that the Forest of Memories was playing with Mumbo. Grian walks away from the group, keeping his spirits high and fighting off the tendrils of dark thoughts that tickle his mind. He reaches Mumbo’s side, kneeling on the red illuminated leyline.

“Oh gods…” Grian whispers, seeing Mumbo’s eyes as he tips the mage’s face up. Veiled by mist, Mumbo’s sight has swirls of grey blinding him to reality. He’s trapped, deep inside the illusion that the Hangman’s Playground. And he’s losing control of his magic, sparks snapping free from fisted fingers, redstone saturating the ground around him. Grian reaches his hand out.

Hands rest on Mumbo’s shoulder, holding him down. The voices are louder, angrier, filled with spite and hatred. Drowning out any sense of Mumbo’s rationale, he lets go of his magic. He unleashes it all onto the world.

Mumbo grabs his father’s hand resting on his shoulder, and lets loose as much of his lightning that he can muster.

The darkness shatters, and Mumbo sees that it wasn’t his father, or any guildmaster, bully, or even Dolios himself holding Mumbo down. But it’s too late to stop the bolts of energy as it crawls through his hands and runs up Grian’s ruddy skin. One more time, the Hangman’s Playground toys with him once more, letting him see the truth. Letting him watch as the uncontrolled magic surges through Grian, sending the young angel crashing to the ground.

“Grian!” Xisuma cries out, abandoning the track of red, skidding to the ground at Grian’s side. Mumbo scrambles to his feet, stepping forward. But then he sees the ricocheting of lightning, jolts of lightning still searching for escape from Grian’s body, and the writhing pain that his friend is in. Charred black wings, just like the ones he saw in his illusion. Mumbo’s not in control of himself- was he ever?- and the power of uncontrolled magic fills his body, blinds his thoughts. From one extreme to another.

He hurt Grian. He could hurt any one of the others. He’s horrified by his actions, the thoughts that led him here. He’s all or nothing- too weak or too strong, and either way it destroys those he loves most.

The ground moves beneath his feet, the shouts and calls little more than white noise as the Forest of Memories replays that second over and over again in Mumbo’s mind. Hurting his best friend, hurting a fellow hermit. The hermits could be calling for him, calling for Grian, calling for the goddess of the dead for all he cared about.

Mumbo just runs. Far away from the hermits, deep into the branching teeth, into the belly of the Forest of Memories.

#hermitcraft #abuse cw #invasive thoughts cw #light of lairyon #lol #wizard hermits #wizard au #hermitcraft fanfic #hermitcraft au #wizard mumbo #wizard scar #wizard grian #mumbo jumbo #gtwscar #grian #grianmc

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