#ALSO!!!! I DID THE MAIN BULK OF THE WORK RIGHT AFTER YOUR ENCOURAGEMENT!!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tenthgrove · 3 years ago

Note

Apologies if this is a little in depth/perhaps a bit of a big scenario (or too angsty? I do intend it to be hurt/comfort though!): La Squadra [individual] with a civilian s/o that, through some way or another, ends up getting targeted due to their connection with their partner and is kidnapped and tortured for information regardless of the fact they know very little about their partner’s hitman career/is simply aware of their partner being in passione and not much else. Of course, whomever they’re dating manages to save them, but S/O is absolutely traumatized from the encounter to the point where they’re barely like their former self, are terrified to be left alone for too long, and need near constant reassurance that they’re going to be okay?

Recovery

La Squadra x Reader, Romantic, SFW

Content Warnings: PTSD, Depression, General Trauma Reactions

Formaggio- He was always so laid back about everything. He had you both convinced that nothing bad could ever come of your relationship, even if he was a hardened criminal and you weren't. Is it possible that, if he had urged you to protect yourself more, this never would have happened? Seeing you so traumatised completely breaks his heart. The way you no longer react to his corny humour wrecks him. He is sympathetic to your pleas not to be alone, and comes up with the solution to shrink you into his pocket for missions. But then again, taking you to situations that could potentially remind you of your trauma might not be helpful. He'll let you decide for yourself between that, and having him leave his phone in his pocket while it's on call to you, so you can hear his voice all the time as he's away on his work.

Illuso- You always did want him to spend more time with you. Now every moment you weren't together is a deep regret. If he was there, he could have saved you before they even harmed a hair on your head. At first, his main concern was your physical health, yelling and snapping at Melone to work faster as he tended to your wounds, but over the next few days it became clear your mental scars ran far deeper. Partially brought on by his own terror of you being hurt again, he asks permission to keep you in the mirror world as much as possible for the immediate future, when there's nobody who can be with you. Chances are, you'll want this anyway to feel safer, and it also helps you feel assured about him. You know that no matter what, if you're in the mirror world, Illuso is alive. When you leave the mirror world, it's always at his side.

Prosciutto- Of course he blames himself. As your lover it is wrong, no, reprehensible, for him to have failed to protect you from this danger, and the guilt destroys him for a long time. Prosciutto always felt himself good at motivating people but it's different when their joy has been completely torn from them from the inside. So he is largely quiet. If you were not already living together Prosciutto moves you into the room at the base so he can take care of you properly, and let those he trusts do it in his stead when he's not able to. He apologises to you profusely for what happened, and comforts you with touch when his words fail him. He tries to be rational in assuring you that this will not happen again- describing how secure the base is and how thoroughly they eliminated the group that took you in revenge for your pain. If it helps, he'll even get you a jar of your chief abuser's ashes, to remind you always that he is dead and gone.

Pesci- He cries a lot. You both do. No matter the circumstances of your kidnapping, he is convinced his failures are to blame. He despairs, convinced he doesn't deserve to have you after what he's done. He waits on you hand and foot 24 hours of the day, rushing to bring you whatever you wish and cuddling you tight for comfort. As much as Prosciutto despises Pesci slacking, he fully appreciates the sensitivities of the situation and lets him have the first few months attending to you fully, before gradually ushering him back to his training. Pesci is completely lost on what to do with you, but the one thing he knows is that you feel better when he's with you. So he'll stay with you, day in and day out, until your old self comes back. If there's anything else he can do to help, just ask.

Melone- He knows a fair bit about trauma. Psychology is an interest of his and he reads up on it often. Still, nothing could prepare him for actually seeing such a mental state play out on the person he loves. If anything, his knowledge only makes it worse for him- forced to watch as a textbook case of PTSD unfolds in the weeks after your rescue. He wishes he could take you to a therapist but that's not possible without endangering the team further, so he's forced to use whatever techniques he can scrounge together to try and help you through it himself. With your informed consent, he encourages you to gradually be more open about what happened so you can come to terms with it, all while exposing you to his bottomless affections in order to stimulate the love hormones that will help you recover.

Ghiaccio- This shouldn't have happened. He was the strongest, right? He should have been able to stop this from happening. Though he doesn't mean to, Ghiaccio somewhat shuts down himself in response to what happened to you, and it far from helps your deterioration. He alternates between the most vicious rants about how he should have saved you sooner and periods of terrifying quiet, the two of you just sitting there together, appreciating you're both still alive. The one thing he can do is reassure you this won't happen again. He might have been vigilant before, but now he's going to hold back nothing. He completes his missions at record time and races right back to be with you. He swears to god that he'll never let this happen again.

Risotto- He supposes it's no surprise they came after you when you're the partner of the squad's leader. He should have seen this coming, he should have done something. The first time he sees you after you're physically lucid, he drops to his knees to beg your forgiveness for failing you. The loss of your old self wounds Risotto deeply, and he'll do anything he can to bring it back. Taking you to old date spots and reliving activities that used to make you happy might just go a long way to helping you enjoy life again. The good news is that the bulk of Risotto's work is just planning for missions, so you're welcome to sit nearby if it helps you feel safer. The rest of the team all respect Risotto greatly, so they're happy to take his in-person missions for however long it takes for you to start to feel better, so he can be with you as much as possible.

Sorbet and Gelato- They've never felt their blood boil like it did when they learned of what had happened to you. They actually kept the guy who personally tortured you alive, for a while, tied up in their basement so they could make him suffer longer. But seeing them come out all bloodied frightened you too much, so they finished him off quickly. With you of course, they are nothing but soft, reminding you day in and day out everything will be alright. If it isn't, they'll fight god to make it. They swear their love for you every moment, kissing your scars and squeezing your hand in a silent gesture of reassurance. Every night, they lay you down between them and cling to you tight, their warmth reminding you that they are always there.

189 notes · View notes

fixyourwritinghabits · 4 years ago

Text

On Publishing Trends and You: Are You Even Allowed to Write BIPOC Characters Anymore?

Okay I’ve seen this both willfully misinterpreted and unintentionally so, but ultimately it seems to be summarized as thus:

Waaaah, meanies on twitter say white people can’t write stories about people of color!!

Or something to that affect. Look, it’s really hard to have sympathy for this viewpoint because it requires taking things so out of context you’ve twisted yourself into a pretzel. Let’s look at publishing trends and how we got here, starting with:

Own Voices: The #OwnVoices hashtag started as a way for marginalized people to pitch books based on their own experiences. Thanks to the great work of DVPit, Disability in Kidlit, and We Need Diverse Books, and others (please feel free to give shout-outs in comments/reblogs). To say OwnVoices is the main drive is misleading - a lot of great work has been put into increasing diversity in publishing before and after the OwnVoices movement, it’s just one of the more visible marketing techniques for how books are promoted today.

So how did an effort to promote marginalized people writing stories from their own perspective become ‘white people aren’t allow to _____ anymore’? GOOD Question! First, let’s look at some statistics:

Boy, that sure looks bad, huh? Well, wait, I’m sure the statistics have improved immensely -

Huh. Well, that’s some improvement. A whole .1% for Indigenous folks and hey, non-human characters more than doubled what the hell.

So you’ll notice two things right off the bat - first, this conversation is mostly taking place around Children’s/Middle Grade/Young Adult books. While it’s true diversity is also lacking in Adult books, it’s very important to provide young readers with books that not only appeal and reflect their own experiences, but are not actively harmful, unintentional or otherwise.

The bulk of this movement - from what publishers are buying, what agents are looking for, and what the twitter conversations are about - are focused on kidlit, because kidlit tends to be stories focused on finding your identity and yourself. One way to focus these personal stories is to not only promote and encourage BIPOC authors writing BIPOC centered books, but to take a step back from these spaces to allow those opportunities to exist. That’s why #OwnVoices will continue to be a big factor in publishing.

Now, the next reaction tends to swing for the bleaches:

This means all my characters have to be white or twitter will hate me forever!!1!

No, it doesn’t. Publishers/Agents/Readers still want diverse stories. What it does mean is that you have to be mindful of how you’re including BIPOC in your stories. You might have seen some of this discussion (possibly out of context) about the authenticity of dotting your stories with people of color with no thought to why they exist in your story and how they experience events. Or, as a friend of mine put it, making “ambiguously brown” people in fantasy, and both these criticisms have real merit. If you’re not considering how all your characters dwell in the world you create, be it a normal high school or a dragon fighting competition, you’re doing both yourself and your readers a huge disservice. It is worth it to take the effort to make your characters believable people, and not just existing for brownie points.

(Also, twitter can be an absolute pit of vipers and while it’s important to follow publishing conversations there, you must keep in mind that not everyone is acting in good faith and it’s more important to look where there is genuine conversation rather than focus on a small group of people being particularly nasty. If it is negatively affecting your mental health, bail out.)

So, to sum up:

Is it true I can’t ever make my main character a BIPOC if I’m a white author? No one can ever ‘make’ you not do anything. All people are asking is for you to consider why you’re telling this story from this perspective, who you’re telling the story for, and if you might be unintentionally contributing to a wider problem of a lack of diversity in publishing.

Is it true I can’t write ANY BIPOC characters? No. What is true is that you should give all your characters a good level of thought and if you have worries, seek out critique partners or consider hiring a sensitivity reader* for your work (*this is entirely dependent on where you are in the publishing process. It is a waste of money and time to pay someone to do a sensitivity read on a first draft. You might not even consider this step until you have an agent or have gotten a lot of feedback suggesting it.)

What if my story has multiple POV? Again, you’re going to have to cycle back to why you’re making the choices you’re making, and who you’re writing for. There is always room for nuance and you’ll find plenty of multiple POV books written by white authors with BIPOC characters. The question boils down to the story you’re trying to tell, and why.

What if I’m writing Adult fiction? I’ve left Adult fiction out of the above conversation because it is mostly centered on kidlit, but there still is a nuance conversation to have about making space for BIPOC authors. I’ll link some perspectives below.

One last important note is that by focusing this conversation on what white people can’t do, you are once again stripping the focus of the conversation from the BIPOC perspectives on it and centering it on whiteness. You can’t change how many diverse books are published or how we give all readers the narratives they need. You can work on how you contribute to it and hopefully for the better.

An Updated Look at Diversity in Children’s Books (where the above graphics were sourced from)

Why Do White Writers Keep Fictionalizing Black Experiences?

The American Dirt Controversy: Lessons for Writers on Getting Cultures Right (Adult fiction)

Racism vs. Representation: The Missteps of Naomi Novik’s A Deadly Education

Who Gave You the Right to Tell That Story? Ten authors on the most divisive question in fiction, and the times they wrote outside their own identities. (Adult Fiction)

Videos:

Here are some great videos from BookTuber Withcindy, someone I highly recommend following:

Should white authors write non-white characters? *A closer look at the Whiteness of Addie LaRue*

What happens when you try to be inclusive, but mess up anyway? *A closer look at A Deadly Education*

387 notes · View notes

ryttu3k · 4 years ago

Text

Finishing up SoNY, ‘bad’ end and final thoughts!

But first, the early game over.

Wow, she just gets shot. Not even slurped? That’s rude as hell XD;;

And on to the ‘bad’ end!

Beginning is much the same, ofc.

“You’re too in love with weaving a good story and establishing a seductive narrative to let facts get in the way.” Foreshadowing for the ‘good’ end, maybe?

God that Embrace scene gives me literal goosebumps.

Alright! Last time I did Danse Macabre and Retributive Justice, let’s try The Risks of Swiping Right!

lmao god I’d eat this guy too. Back to the ghost club! That legitimately is a really neat scene. ...Ooh yes so that’s where the girl was from.

Panhard just lowkey dying at the mental image of Katherine Weise in a fast food restaurant is so good.

The sweet scene between Julia and Dakota hits a bit different after the ‘good’ end XD;;

Went to the park, reminisced, and helped out the guy. That was sweet ;_; High-humanity Julia, this time!

‘Fairy God Mother?’ is great but ‘Vin Diesel?’ is objectively the funnier response.

“Shining even more brightly than usual, Aisling.” Samira got a cru-ush~

Poor Julie. It’s probably been tough without Sophie around :(

Huh. Interestingly, refusing to lie to Mia results in Julia actually feeling genuine loyalty to the Cammies (for now, at least).

Believing Agathon is still alive = more optimistic = different dialogue! See, this is how you make choices have consequences, game!

Oooh boy time to meet Adelaide XD;;

“She uncrosses her legs in a strangely seductive motion. In her mind’s eye, it probably looked like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct, but in reality, it had all the grace of a tracksuit Slav squatting.” *snickering*

Fight me, Adelaide >:(

‘sup Nastya. Went with the slightly less disruptive routine here XD Huh, she’s an aspiring DJ! Julia is deeply confused as to how being a DJ and being head of security works together.

lmao Julia referring to Hope as a girlboss. That phrase has lost all meaning to me...

The conversation between Julia and Father Leonard is still really interesting. Man, you know who I want Julia to talk to? Anatole. Interesting insights into balancing being queer Catholic vampires there for sure.

lmao oh my god I want to fight this street reporter.

‘I can almost feel my brain losing its wrinkles.’ *snort*

Yeaghhhh the Abyss bit is still so creepy...

Oops. Being honest regarding Tamika and Torque’s relationships gets a fail :(

Oh, or not XD That works! Also, uh, apparently the giant albino ghoul alligator is real, according to New York by Night. He’s Calebros’ pet.

“Because I think I have a pretty good nose for people’s auras. And when I take a good look at you... ...somehow, I have a feeling you’re a surprisingly decent person. Whatever way of unlife you choose, I hope you don’t change it. And that you remember my advice.” :)

“I know.” Oof.

“Hi.” “WAAAH!” lmao sorry Princess XD;; Just trying to imagine Qadir’s face as he tells Julia to find a 1990 glass statue of Scrooge McDuck... dying...

Oh she’s so a Toreador XD Low art options are a fantasy book, an anime DVD, or a video game... those can all be arty, though! And went with the anime DVD called ‘Ririsu no Daibouken’... that translates to ‘Adventures of Lilith’. How on the nose XD “The cover says ‘Lilith’s Carnal Carnival’.” Oh. Yeah, that’d do it XD

“This 90s original video anime presents us with a tale of five big-bosomed samurai warriors travelling through America in search of General Hastavista, The Incubus King. Don’t let all the titillation misguide you: the main draws here are peerless direction, a nearly avant-garde editing rhythm and dialogue that coyly comments on traditional gender roles in anime. Once you see the animation in the final battle, you’ll understand why it never fails to set a sakuga fan’s heart ablaze!”

She’s my new favourite.

“So can I know your name now?”

“Hmmm... Let me think...

No. <3″

I need to stress that the heart appears in the dialogue box. Like. The actual less-than-three heart.

Didn’t investigate the rat this time, so Qadir did and I die. “Glad you’re alright, little guy.” Qadir...

Still not over the drunk blood doll rats.

Kaiser’s still a goddamn creep and this time Julia is not going too far. She still has her humanity, dammit. Final set of traits:

Loyal to the end

Glass half-full

Not into a bad cop schtick

Honesty is the best policy

No more human, still humane

Onwards to the ‘bad’ end! Oops, and Dakota still did the Single White Female thing XD;;

Man I’m still really curious who the ‘good friend’ is!!

Okay! Time for end game!!

So that’s the good friend, huh? “Let me phrase it differently, then. You’re not Ecaterina the Wise, the Agitator of Prague, a Brujah elder causing turbulences all over the world... are you?”

Mention of Christof! Mention of Christof doing shady shit :| Poor Hana.

“An immigrant from Eastern Europe comes to New York City, takes the position she always expected to find herself in, is molded into someone who is no longer herself.”

Julia and Dakota representing Carthage is kind of neat.

I want to say the mention of St Jude is a reference, but I’m not sure what to XD;; Is that from Redemption? Christof could have been the one to tell Hana that.

“Like a two-person human centipede loop or something. An Ouroburos? Or an, uhh, Mobius strip?” No, that’s the other traditionally Sabbat clan XD

That‘s. That’s a hell of a reconciliation XD “Yeah, let’s give it a try. By the way I’m on the run for my unlife, want to go to California and try to find utopia?”

Julia, wear a fucking mask XD

“Hey.”

“Yeah?“

“Do you love me?”

“... Of course I do. For now, at least.”

I still don’t know if I love her. Or even if I can love anyone, for that matter. I’m a fucking monster, after all. I don’t even know if we’ll exist next month. The prospects are not looking good. But although I can’t see myself in the rearview mirror right now...

...I will remember this image of us leaving the city, somewhat melancholic, and somewhat hopeful, forever. And maybe the meaning of this image will be clarified with time. Or maybe I will just force a more positive description on it, and that is what I’ll believe.

No matter what happens... even if oceans of blood lie before us, I will make this a cherished memory.

Whatever possible salvation still remains for me... ...it probably lies in the eyes of another.

Oh dang I have chills.

So the ‘bad’ ending is about the subverted compromise. Julia resigns herself to letting the compromise about the truth of Callihan’s death go ahead. ‘Catherine’ is a walking compromise to hide the Ecaterina’s real deeds. But while Hana is still stuck in her role for now, Julia refuses to accept the compromise she’s made, both the one relating to the investigation and the compromise she made of her own views and morals. It might blow up in her face, yeah. But damn, she’s going to try.

So, final thoughts! For the sake of completion, this is what I said about Coteries:

And of course this is the part where the game all falls apart :-\

Just… god. This is probably the biggest problem with CoNY, and the reason I didn’t bother getting it until it was like… 60% off. The bulk of the game is great - the writing is intriguing, the design is stunning. But the choices themselves are so limited it’s barely worth even getting it at 60% off!

You have three choices of characters, with their own opening chapters and own individual scenes with their touchstones. You have four choices of coterie members, and three sidequests. You can probably get in at least three full story arcs and a sidequest or two, but you’re only ever limited to two of your coterie members showing up at the not-yet-endgame.

So let’s say you decide to play all three protags, which, indeed, is encouraged (there’s an achievement for it). You are going to repeat coterie arcs and side quests, because there simply aren’t enough for three unique playthroughs.

And then you get to the end and literally everything is scripted. You get attacked by the SI. You get rescued by your two coterie members (and then never see them again, despite the game being called Coteries of New York). You meet Torque, you escape the SI, Sophie reveals her plan to Torque, you go to Ellis Island, Adelaide kills Sophie (and despite the fact that you’re given multiple options there, none of them work), Arturo does his spiel, end of game. You don’t even get to choose between ending up blood bound or going “no fuck you” and at least dying with a bit of dignity!

I just. I really want to like it, and there genuinely is a lot there to like! But uuuugh the ending. Like damn at least give the poor protag the option to choose what happens to them!

Anyway. Not sure what’s next. To get all the achievements, you have to finish with all three protags, so that’s three full runs and a lot of repetitiveness (compare to, say, Bloodlines or Night Road. I have eighty-five hours on Night Road and there’s still stuff I haven’t seen!), so I can’t even just… rush it through up to the meeting with the touchstones on the third play. Nope. Gotta finish it :-\

Final rating: 6/10

8/10 characters, 9/10 atmosphere, 8/10 story aside from ending, 3/10 story ending, 2/10 replayability. Final consensus: get it on major sale if you can, otherwise, you might as well just watch an LP. I might do that instead of doing a third run, although I at least want to do a second.

I ended up revising that 6/10 to 5.5/10 after finishing all runs and getting the achievements just out of how goddamn repetitive it was. So, how does Shadows measure up?

Absolutely continued with all the things I enjoyed about CoNY (characters, atmosphere, and writing), and of the bits I hated (cookie cutter protagonists, lack of real choice, repetitiveness, the godawful ending), every single part has been completely improved.

Instead of three fledglings so similar they even have the same internal thoughts, we have Julia, who’s got such a distinct voice that she becomes the most memorable game protag I’ve seen in years, and I’m including non-VtM games in this. This is absolutely her game, and it’s just... absolutely fascinating to read and watch.

Related - actual real choices. There are five key choices that determine the ending, and every single one has actual consequence in-game. You get different dialogue. Different introspection. Different philosophies. And this carries across - if Julia believes Agathon is alive, she’s more optimistic about her relationship with Dakota, too. And of course, both endings are completely distinct and incredibly written - the ‘good’ ending where Julia gives in to her most Lasombra instincts, plays the game, wins it, gets power and respect at the expense of her humanity and avoiding all those wraiths... or the ‘bad’ ending when she listens to her morals, reconciles with Dakota, and leaves for California, uncertain, but hopeful.

Not a lot of repetitiveness. Yes, by design, you’ll probably do two playthroughs. The main plot is much the same, but there are enough options there to get multiple dialogue options and stuff. And for the little sidequests, you can actually get all in with just the two playthroughs, only repeating like... two, I think. Still, I wasn’t feeling actively bored like I was midway through my second run of CoNY!

Loved seeing more in-depth backstory and development for the coterie members. Agathon’s section was particularly fascinating, literally getting into his head.

And just. Atmosphere and music is so, so good.

Final rating: 9/10. Thank you, Draw Distance, you hit it out of the park.

#vampire the masquerade #vtm shadows of new york #ry plays sony

8 notes · View notes

wirewitchviolet · 4 years ago

Text

Hate Mobs Gotta Go

Last night, I did something I have never expected to do, and just full on gave up on a fun RPG writing assignment. Which I had to do because I hit a point where it was so overdue and unfinished that I was falling asleep sitting up and stress vomiting and other such things. There’s a whole lot of factors behind that. Other health issues, the toll of being on total pandemic lockdown for months, with neighbors just straight up open mouth coughing at my door, emergencies with friends and family, multiple fires and hardware failures, but the main thing was, and still is, the constant harassment from a militant hate mob, completely out of touch with reality.

Years ago, I remember there was this thing the internet at large was fond of doing with foaming at the mouth far right religious extremists- Mercilessly ridiculing them in public to expose how disconnected everything they said or did was from reality. Remember seeing this one float around and laughing your head off?

And if I mention the Westboro Baptist Church, you immediately picture a single family of raving bigots picketing funerals and such with their big homophobic signs, with a bigger crowd mocking them, right?

For some reason, the modern version of that particular flavor of fringe weirdo doesn’t get that sort of ridicule. Presumably because they’re focusing almost exclusively on trans people, and most people have this weird thing where like if you stick up for trans people you get cooties or something and never dig into the real juicy ridicule fodder. But for real, this stuff is OUT THERE. Just look at a few examples here.

Come for the weird ravings about harvesting baby organs. Stay for the... adult woman who apparently believes breasts get their shape from actually being sacks filled with milk under women’s skin? Now, how about this colorful comparison?

For anyone who wasn’t aware, pronouns are words like “I” “you” “he” “she” “it” and “this,” while rohypnol is colloquially known as “the date rape drug,” so this is utter gibberish. The full context of course is that this person is trying to make the argument that forcing this bigot to refer to women she’s prejudiced against as “she” instead of arbitrarily tossing around “he” or “it” is... raping her brain, I guess?

So... this is pretty clearly some creep’s weird little fantasy. The obvious giveaway is pretending that trans women “aren’t in the correct bathroom” when going to... the correct bathroom, and that the non-existent law about this is somehow enforced by... random bigots opting to deputize themselves. What DOES happen for real though is bigots like this being arrested for barging into public restroom stalls with camcorders aimed at the crotches of women on toilets and trying to defend themselves by insisting they have some duty to check what their genitals look like. On which note...

That’s just disgusting. It’s also as close as I feel comfortable to posting all the graphic fantasies I see from these people about the barbaric genital mutilation they imagine trans women subject ourselves to which really has no basis at all in reality. Well maybe I can post this one.

I’m not going to go through and itemize all the baldfaced lies in that, because I really kinda hope I don’t have to, and also because the person who slapped this together was kind enough to break it up in such a way that I legitimately can say “every single line of this is a completely baseless lie.” Also the art in the corner is stolen from a child-friendly comic whose author is trans, so, that’s extra slimy. Also wow that “bone scans” bit is actually one I’ve never seen. Where the hell do they even get these ideas?

Also this one needs some setup. If you have time, this right here is a freaking journey, if not, I’ll try to summarize.

So a while ago, this one particular unhinged bigot decided the most productive way to spend all her time was to get in touch with a bulk sticker printing business and order thousands if not millions of these weird gross poorly framed slabs with a really crude drawing of a penis and bunch of gibberish she really wishes were the names of popular twitter hashtags that nobody else but her ever uses. And then after receiving these, just... wandering around the city she lives in all day every day plastering them on phone booths and power poles and the mirrors of bathrooms in like.. elementary schools and park benches, just everywhere. And then makes multiple passes a day apparently to make sure nobody has tried to remove any of them, as detailed in this amazing thread I’ll link again.

So the latest break in that particular saga is that same zealot going around plastering stickers like this around too, to make it seem like “both sides do it.”

It should be obvious that that’s a “blacks rule!” sort of fake between the baffling text and using the extra inclusive, particular emphasis on supporting people of color, general purpose LGBT+ flag, but also, like their fellows on 4chan, they plan this sort of “false flag” crap in broad daylight:

I should really properly credit the whistle-blowing on that particular oddity, and I should also note that aside from the breast milk sacks, this is all just stuff I saw TODAY catching up on my twitter feed, but my main point with all this is to illustrate that we really are dealing with Jack Chick/Westboro Baptist-level unhinged zealotry... but again, nobody’s out there pointing and laughing. And it turns out, when you don’t have people pointing and laughing at this sort of thing, you get people taking it seriously. So... when I went to quickly search for a news story to link with the bit about creeps barging in on women with cameras, the results I got were... this.

That... sure is a lot of stories about totally innocent people in a demographic I belong to being murdered by total strangers goaded into blind murderous hatred by the sort of people I’m pointing and laughing at! Ha ha! There’s a very real chance of that happening to me every time I step outside, for any reason! Tee hee! I live in a state of constant fear! Whoopsie!

And it’s not just stuff like that. The people posting these rambling tirades about “breast milk sack implants” and putting crude penis stickers everywhere, never being called out as the unhinged weirdos they are, either have the world turning a blind eye to all this crap, or have everything they do downplayed in the media to the point where outright sexual harassment, doxing, and slurs I don’t want to repeat get headlines like “so-and-so made comments that some fringe trans activists on the internet deem ‘possibly transphobic’” and that’s AT BEST. More often you get stuff like the one incident I managed to bring a lot of public attention to way back when, where some bigot just literally walked up to someone on the street, grabbed them, savagely beat the hell out of them until pulled apart, had friends film the whole thing, and bragged after the fact about it, and every story that appeared as a result claimed the assailant was the victim, because they were all written by her friends.

Face obscuring provided by me here, by the way.

And that isn’t a one-off incident. Because, see, most of these unhinged weirdos spewing out all this transphobic gibberish are not, as you would think, a bunch of barely educated Trump hat wearing members of some fringe religious congregation. They’re editors and producers in major British news outlets. This isn’t me shouting conspiracy nonsense either, this is well-documented. Like, The Guardian gets public internal protests over this crap. So does the BBC. Yes, other respected news sites cover this. Media watchdog groups do their best to reign this in with hearings and such, but, don’t actually have any power to enforce anything really. So when there’s “reporting” on this crap, it’s coming directly from the “breast milk sack implant” people. Oh and here’s some screenshots of the headlines of those stories you’re too lazy to click through and actually read:

And of course, sometimes when they want to really come across as respectful, they try to find “scientists” and “doctors” who back up their ravings but all they have to fall back on are disgraced quacks who spend most of their time on activism work to normalize pedophilia.

I’m not bringing that point about Cantor up to discredit his writings about trans people by the way. He doesn’t really HAVE any writings about trans people. He just pasted the names of a bunch of random studies from the 70s about whether playing with barbies makes you gay into his blog a few years back and this crowd was so desperate for validation they declared him an “expert in the field” and started passing out links to his.... pro-pedophila blog. Which is part of this whole pattern, but I’ve written about that before. Oh and the governments of multiple countries manage to treat all these people as “experts” and make policy decisions based on their ravings. That’s fun.

Anyway, aside from encouraging random people to, you know, just randomly murder anyone they see who looks like maybe a trans woman, every so often this weird little cult pulls in an actual celebrity who then has a public meltdown as they post all this gibberish to a wider audience. Currently this is going on with Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling (who’s actively promoting the pedophile guy up there on Twitter), and I think also William Shatner, but I haven’t really looked into it. The last big one though was Graham Linehan. Who you might remember from co-writing some sitcoms that were popular decades ago in Britain, or from being the weird cartoon villain who tried to kill the funding of a children’s charity, prompting this strange pledge drive marathon of Donkey Kong Country.

You might also know him as one of... I think honestly just two people who have ever managed to be such out of control stalking hate mongers that they were actually given a permanent no possible appeal ban from Twitter. Personally though I know him more as, you know, that one absolute creep who’s been obsessively stalking me for like 5 years and never shutting up about his weird personal obsession with me.

I WOULD link the recent freaking filmed interview he did where he spent forever rambling about me, but I’d have to actually watch it to confirm I had the right link, and also the only place I could quickly find a link to it would be on his twitter feed, which as stated, no longer exists. Oh and random side note there, despite being personally, by name, the person he was explicitly targeting all his hateful ramblings at, he wasn’t banned from that site for any of the disgusting stuff he said to me. He just slipped up and mentioned a cis woman with a professorship while shouting about this crap recently and that caused people to actually take action. I do so love being invisible.

Anyway, point is, prior to Rowling grabbing the baton from him as his social media presence went up in flames, this guy was name-dropping me a LOT. Presumably he still is, just in places fewer people see it. And when you have as big an audience as he did, and that audience is as full of hatemongers as his was, that has a pretty noticeable effect. I’ve been deluged with so much hateful garbage for so long it’s impossible for me to put any numbers on it. The closest I can do to quantify it is note that hate dump was big enough that I was also flooded with more weird messages intended as support from total strangers than I could deal with, totally losing access to social media feeds and my e-mail from the volume for a good bit, and THAT flood was big enough that I got this whole second wave of creepy stalkers who’d built up this whole weird fanon where this stalker here is like, someone I used to date or be business partners with and not just some creepy dude like twice my age stalking me over the internet, from a completely different hemisphere.

And I mean... in the broadest of strokes, I can kinda laugh all this off. Because... these people are completely ridiculous, out of touch with reality, and mostly live in other countries. But... all the threats and shouting are very real and very constant and like.. picture someone outside on the street shouting at your windows about how they’re going to break in and kill you. You really can’t ignore that. Even if they’re unarmed, and all they’re really capable of doing is shouting and pounding on your door, you can’t really just ignore that shouting and pounding and just watch a movie or play a game or write this article you promised would be done 3 months ago. You can certainly try, but a pretty big part of your brain is going to be occupied with thoughts about how maybe you should call someone to see if they’ll escort this violent person away, or maybe you should barricade your door in case all that pounding does something.

And I mean this isn’t a bad metaphor for how all the constant threats and stalking I’m dealing with thanks to celebrity bigots personally obsessed with me impacts my life, but it also does a pretty good job of describing how my night went pretty recently when I ACTUALLY DID HAVE SOMEONE POUNDING ON MY ACTUAL REAL PHYSICAL DOOR SHOUTING ABOUT STABBING ME TO DEATH, and no, there was no resolution to that beyond the sound of sirens causing that person to back off.

I also had an experience not too long ago where I was supposed to take a cab to a routine appointment, a car showed up with the cab company’s name on it, somewhat early, and proceeded to drive me... out to the middle of the freaking woods like an hour from where I live, and when my phone rang with my actual cab asking where I was the driver freaked out, had me get out of the car, and took off leaving me just... stuck in the middle of nowhere freezing to death and trying to find a landmark an actual cab could pick me up from. Still don’t know what the hell that whole thing was about and whether a cab driver just REALLY didn’t know what he was doing and panicked or what, but I do know that talking about it publicly in the vaguest of terms lead to a bunch of unhinged shouting from... apparently some unconnected ride share driver with a habit of dumping trans women between stops when they try to get medications or something, convinced I was calling him out for that.

So.... yeah. Things aren’t exactly going great in my neck of the woods. I’d really appreciate it if people would properly treat these unhinged violent weirdos like unhinged violent weirdos and not respectable members of society so they quit getting so bold and public with the violent stuff, and people who listen to them get properly shouted down for doing so.

#transphobia #stalking

5 notes · View notes

calucadu · 4 years ago

Text

Drumroll, please!

Drumroll, please!, a Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia One Shot.

I’m so happy I can finally share my story for the Force of Nature Zine! My awesome partner was Qwan-Hei! Please check out her Instagram and Twitter! She did an amazing job! Her piece is so good, I keep staring at it. 💜

Summary: His eyes widen as they roam the shiny red drum kit. Even the copper cymbals seem to gleam when he looks at them. He clambers over the stool and looks at his mother, who gives him an encouraging smile. When he glances at his father, the man nods his head and Katsuki gulps, taking a large breath before trying his new present out. He gives the cymbals a tentative hit, only moving his wrist subtly. The sound it makes immediately takes his breath away. He lets the drumstick fall against the snare drum, and he’s immediately hooked. He feels like fire is running down his arms and exploding out of his hands. He has no idea what he’s doing but he screams, closing his eyes and letting the sensation fill him with joy.

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Uraraka Ochako, Bakugou Mitsuki, Bakugou Masaru, Midoriya Izuku, Yagi Toshinori/All Might, Sir Nighteye, Best Jeanist, Eraserhead, Jirou Kyouka, Yaoyorozu Momo, Kaminari Denki, Tokoyami Fumikage.

Rating: Teen and up

Read on AO3

Or read below the cut

On the morning of his 7th birthday, Katsuki wakes to a present-less room. He immediately goes downstairs and finds his father reading the newspaper, calmly sipping on his tea. On their dining table is a small, neatly wrapped gift. Suppressing a scream, the child runs over to it and nearly throws himself against the wooden surface to grab it. He hears his dad clear his throat. “You can’t open that yet, Katsuki.” He says calmly, folding his newspaper and setting it aside.

“Why not!?”

“Your main present is in another room.” A smile slowly works its way to his face as he gets up. Before the boy can ask any more questions, his dad gestures at him to follow him. He takes the child into the study and pauses in front of the closed door. “You do the honours.”

Katsuki’s quick to do as he’s told. He finds his mother standing next to a huge bulk covered with a white blanket, smiling as she gestures towards it. His father gently pushes him forwards, so the child slowly walks towards it, eyeing her suspiciously. He finally gets to the mysterious thing and gives the fabric a tentative tug, making the material fall to his feet.

His eyes widen as they roam the shiny red drum kit. Even the copper cymbals seem to gleam when he looks at them.

Finally remembering that his left hand still has a tight grip on the present he found on the table, he looks down at it and sees that he’d torn the wrapping paper accidentally. It’s not a big enough tear that he can tell what’s inside, but he pokes a finger through it to open it, revealing a pair of wooden drumsticks.

He clambers over the stool and looks at his mother, who gives him an encouraging smile. When he glances at his father, the man nods his head and Katsuki gulps, taking a large breath before trying his new present out.

He gives the cymbals a tentative hit, only moving his wrist subtly. The sound it makes immediately takes his breath away. He lets the drumstick fall against the snare drum, and he’s immediately hooked.

He feels like fire is running down his arms and exploding out of his hands. He has no idea what he’s doing but he screams, closing his eyes and letting the sensation fill him with joy.

Katsuki’s too focused on his new toy that he almost doesn’t hear his mother say: “We made the right choice,” while hugging her husband.

The next thing Katsuki learns is that they had signed him up for drumming lessons at a nearby music school.

For a while, Katsuki is extremely happy. Not only does drumming fulfil him, but his new teacher tells him he’s a natural and constantly praises him. He’s a quick learner, and he’s eager to advance.

The private lessons and the time he spends drumming at home make him have something to look forward to every day.

He feels fire in his palms that explodes whenever he’s playing the drums, and it makes him feel exhilarated; makes him feel alive.

In class, he’s just bored out of his mind. He tries to keep himself entertained by mentally practising playing, but it’s not the same as having the real thing.

He finds it hard to connect to the other kids his age. He doesn’t have the patience for them, and honestly, as the years go by, he feels more and more like they’re not worth it. They don’t like him because he has a bad temper and a sharp tongue. It doesn’t bother him, though. He doesn’t need them anyway. He’s not lonely. Katsuki doesn’t feel alone because he’s got drumming.

He’s scrolling through his phone while sitting in the back of his parents’ car on the way home from school. His mum turns the radio on and Katsuki’s jaw almost drops when he hears the first few notes of a song play.

The intensity of it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he immediately looks up from his phone and pays more attention to the music. It sounds like nothing he’s ever heard before but it’s also kind of familiar.

He recognises his mother’s favourite station and his eyebrow twitches.

“What band is this?” He demands, not noticing he’s scowling as he impatiently awaits her answer.

His mother chuckles gently, turning the volume up slightly. “That’s ‘The Symbol of Peace’, kid. It used to be my favourite band back in the day. Glad to see you’ve got good taste after all.”

Katsuki’s too enthralled by the song to even answer her back. The drummer’s rhythm and tempo are amazing. The way all the instruments sound together makes goosebumps form all over his arms.

He’s never listened to anything that sounds this perfect.

He becomes obsessed with them after that experience. His mother gives him some of her old posters, but he also buys some of All Might (the lead singer and guitarist) and puts them all in his bedroom, and a few in the study where he practises drumming. That way he can look at them when he feels low on spirits. It helps him focus and find that passion, rekindle that fire when he’s uninspired.

It also has a new and different effect on him that he hadn’t anticipated.

He starts wanting to be like them. On a poster. On someone’s walls.

He wants to be in a band.

He suddenly realises he wants to become a rock star. One that won’t be forgotten in time, like All Might.

Katsuki wants to be the greatest drummer to have ever existed. It’s going to be a lot of hard work – he’s well aware of it – but he’s never wanted anything more.

He starts his last year of middle school with a new attitude, but unfortunately, there’s a pebble in his way.

A loser called Midoriya Izuku is in his class. He ignores his existence until one day he hears him play the guitar. Katsuki’s jaw drops. He has a way of making the instrument sound extremely beautiful.

Katsuki starts seeing the green-haired boy as an obstacle to surpass to become number one. He starts calling him Deku to make fun of him and to remind him that he’s below him.

In fact, if he thinks about it, he remembers seeing him excitedly running around the music school as kids.

Although Katsuki won’t admit it, the other boy unintentionally motivates him to practise harder. He starts ditching his homework because being the best is more important.

Katsuki’s always done well at school without much effort. Things are different now, though. Since he’s been so focused on drumming, his report card isn’t as good as it always is.

He’s almost hesitant to show it to his mother, who swipes it out of his hand. She gives the paper a quick glance before lowering it and looking him square in the eyes.

“Katsuki, what is this?” She asks, her voice neutral, but her lips are pressed into a thin line that shows how displeased she is with his results.

“What’s what?” He retorts in between clenched teeth.

“These marks! They aren’t good!”

“They’re not bad!” He replies, his tone rising.

“Katsuki,” she pauses to breathe in, inhaling air through her flared nostrils. “Don’t you want to go to a good high school? A good university? Do you not care about your education?”

He sets his jaw and decides not to answer her.

“Are you listening to me, Katsuki?” She raises her voice and places the report card on the table next to her before crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m being serious here. Your future isn’t something you can gamble with.”

He stops himself from lashing out at her by slamming his hands against the table instead. The slap makes his skin tingle, and the sound echoes around the room like an explosion. Like when he plays the drums.

She gives him a once-over before shaking her head in disappointment. “I’m cancelling your drumming lessons. You need to put more time and effort into studying.”

“WHAT!?”

“You heard me, Katsuki.” She replies dryly.

“You can’t DO THAT!” He’s shaking with fury and he can feel the resentment and irritation flowing through him.

“Of course I can, you brat. I’m your mother. Don’t forget that. I decide over your future because I know what’s best!”

He stares at her, his nostrils flaring in anger. Without saying a word, he stomps off and shuts himself in his room to scream his lungs out.

Katsuki doesn’t understand why she nags him so much. Weren’t they the ones to buy him the drum kit? He didn’t even ask for one and they gave it to him. And now that he’s playing it and actually learning and practising, they’re telling him he has to stop?

What do they care how well he does at school anyway? He’s going to be a rock star!

He stuffs his pillow into his mouth to drown his voice, but tears of frustration fall down his face.

They don’t understand anything.

Everything is a hundred times more frustrating and unbearable now that he doesn’t have his drumming lessons to look forward to.

He still plays at home, but it’s not the same. He feels stuck, like he isn’t advancing.

He almost feels like his future as a drummer is about to shatter.

Deku starts pestering him about the drumming lessons. He constantly asks why he hasn’t seen him around the music school. It feels like the little shit is rubbing salt into the wound, taunting him with the fact that he can still learn and advance, all while he’s being left behind.

Katsuki’s determined not to let anything stop him from becoming a star, so he practises every day in the study, keeping his goal in mind so he can power through everything.

He will become the best drummer in the world!

He begrudgingly accepts that he might as well do something with the time that used to be for his drumming lessons, so he starts working harder on his schoolwork. His marks go up and he enters UA, the high school All Might had attended.

The best thing about this new school is his music teacher, Mr. Toshinori. He’s a charismatic and generous man who looks frail and worn out because he’s terminally ill. He realised Katsuki’s potential and praised him for his knowledge from the very beginning.

The bad thing about UA is that Deku also got in. What’s even worse is that he’s also Mr. Toshinori’s favourite.

Trying to get rid of his pent-up frustrations, Katsuki starts playing the drums at home for hours on end.

His parents, however, don’t agree with how he chooses to spend his time.

One day, his mother screams at him to stop playing the drums and to study instead. She insists he’s too old to be fooling around and that he needs to start thinking of his future. She wants Katsuki to become a lawyer, make money and start a family.

None of those things sound good to him.

He snarls at her that he’s going to become famous and then she’ll regret everything she’s doing to him.

His mother ends up locking him out of the study, prohibiting him from playing.

That’s the first time in his life that Katsuki’s had something he loved completely taken away from him, and it shatters his whole world.

He cries and screams at his parents, telling them how unfair it is that they’ve done this to him because he has nothing else in life.

Since he can’t take his frustrations out on his drums anymore, he feels constantly pent-up. Deku notices and immediately starts bombarding him with questions.

Full of loathing and resentment, he tries to punch the little shit, who flinches away. Just as he’s raising his fist again, a hand encircles his wrist and pulls him back.

Katsuki turns around to lash out at whoever is stopping him, but his anger dwindles when he sees Uraraka Ochako. He hears Deku takes this opportunity to run away like the little coward he is.

She’s a sweet and innocent girl who he was sure hated his guts. She seemed to tremble in fear whenever he was near, and right now is no different: she’s shaking, even though she’s trying to look determined while holding him back.

It makes his arms go limp at his sides and she sighs in relief, also letting him go.

“Are you okay, Bakugou?” She whispers. It’s the first time anyone has asked him that since he lost his drum kit.

He breaks. He doesn’t know why but he tells her everything. She listens intently and that reassures Katsuki that he’s doing the right thing.

“I understand what you’re feeling. That sounds really frustrating and unfair,” she tells him when he’s finished speaking, “but that doesn’t mean you should be violent. You shouldn’t take your frustration out on people. But if you ever need to talk or anything, I’m here. I can listen.”

Katsuki can’t find his words. All he knows is that he’s finally found a friend.

Ochako comes up with the idea of asking their music teacher for advice, and when Katsuki asks him, he offers him the school’s drum kit to play during breaks. Not only does he get to play there whenever he has some free time, but Mr. Toshinori is usually in the classroom with him, watching him practise and giving him advice and corrections. He feels like he’s finally making progress again.

However, one day, Katsuki finds Deku sitting in the chair closest to the piano, watching intently as Mr. Toshinori plays a nice melody, one that sounds vaguely familiar.

“What’s he doing here?” Katsuki snarls, narrowing his eyes.

The teacher stops playing and looks up at him, an ample smile on his face. “I know you haven’t been getting along recently, so I thought you could have a little chat and become friends.”

“Yeah, Kacchan!” Deku nods his head energetically. “I bet we have stuff in common!”

Katsuki can’t answer. He’s stuck at the entrance of the classroom, incapable of even turning away, despite his brain telling him to scram.

“Actually,” the other teen whispers, his gaze lowering to look at the floor. “I saw that picture you posted on Instagram the other day. The one with all the posters. I’m also a huge fan of ‘The Symbol of Peace’!”

Before Katsuki can answer, their teacher asks: “You both listen to ‘The Symbol of Peace’?”

“Yeah! They’re this awesome group that was super famous not that long ago!” Deku starts rambling, telling them facts that of course Katsuki already knows. He’s got that horrible smirk he gets when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about. “They always won against Endeavor in terms of sales, but they were always neck to neck! ‘One for all’ was their debut album and it made them famous world-wide!”

“Shut up!” Katsuki shouts, kicking the door out of frustration.

He doesn’t wait for an answer from either of them and just storms out of the room, his teeth clenched. He hears Deku shouting his name and it makes him want to punch something.

“Wait, Bakugou, my boy!” Mr Toshinori’s voice makes Katsuki turn around and he sees the old man panting slightly as he hurries to follow him. He starts coughing but tries to talk despite his shortness of breath. “I have something I need to talk to you about.”

Begrudgingly, Katsuki follows him into the classroom again, but sits as far away from Deku as he can, swallowing the insults he so desperately wants to hurl at the other teen.

“My passionate students,” he starts, a softness in his voice that almost moves Katsuki, “you are both incredibly talented and bright young men. I’ve tried my best to be a good teacher for every student in this school, but I tried even harder with you two.”

He pauses, almost like it’s difficult for him to continue speaking. “Unfortunately, it’s time for me to retire from teaching.”

Mr. Toshinori, the only person he looks up to and that actually believes in him, is going to leave him forever?

Katsuki wants to shout at him, tell him that he’s weak. Instead, he stomps out of the classroom, wiping his tears away with his sleeve. He hides in the bathroom and glares at his reflection in the mirror.

He thought he was on track again, he thought he’d already overcome every obstacle in his way.

Maybe he’s not supposed to make it big. Maybe that’s not the fate for him.

Roaring in pain, he shoves his hands into his pockets and retrieves his drumsticks, the ones he’s had ever since he was seven years old. They’re a bit battered, but they still fit perfectly into the palms of his hands.

He stares at them with pure hatred, feeling like his whole body is on fire. He knows it’s not their fault; it’s his, for having a dream to begin with, but he needs to stop the horrible pain inside of him.

He grabs both ends of the wooden drumsticks and starts bending them, screaming furiously. He shuts his eyes because he can’t bear to have them open any longer, especially not with all the tears that are blurring his vision.

The distinctive cracking sound they make force them open again but he’s not ready to face the situation: he’s shattered one of the only things he’s ever cherished.

His actions slowly dawn on him and he sinks to his knees. He can’t blame this on anyone. It’s not his parents’ fault, it’s not Deku’s, it’s not Toshinori’s.

He did this to himself.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s calmed down enough that he can text Ochako.

Somehow, he manages to return home, cover himself in blankets and let his emotions drown him.

He doesn’t go to school the next day but Ochako barges into his room that afternoon.

“You’re an idiot!” She screams at him as soon as he pokes his head out of the covers to tell her to go away.

She sighs and walks over to his bed, to sit on the edge of it.

“I’ve got something for you, but you’ve got to promise not to wreck it.” She smiles as she gets something out of her schoolbag. It’s neatly wrapped and it doesn’t feel heavy in his hands when she finally gives it to him.

He opens it and finds a pair of drumsticks. His heart jumps when his eyes fall on All Might’s signature. The autographs of the other members of the band are also there: Sir Nighteye – the keyboardist – Best Jeanist – the bassist – and Eraser Head – the drummer.

“How’d you…” Katsuki raises his head to look at Ochako, dumbstruck.

“Mr. Toshinori searched for me today at school and asked if I could give this to you. He said he’s sorry you left like that yesterday. He didn’t mean to upset you.”

He closes his eyes and clutches the drumsticks against his chest.

“He also told me to tell you not to give up on your passion.”

His heart swells with her words. Maybe it is his fate after all.

“He thinks you can make it big, Kat.”

He tries to keep his teacher’s words present in his mind and heart. They are what help him take the step to leave home and drop out of high school to pursue his dream.

Ochako lets him crash at her place for a few months while he works part-time jobs to save up for his own drum kit.

He buys a cheap, second-hand one. It’s seen better days but it’s still usable, and he can tell it used to be bright orange. The colour is slightly faded but he thinks he prefers it as it is now.

Katsuki’s break starts just at the exact same time his phone rings. He glances at the name flashing on his screen before picking it up as he goes out of the back exit of the restaurant he works at.

“Whatcha want, Round Cheeks?”

“Hey Kats,” she replies, then says like it’s nothing: “I got you a band.”

Katsuki meets his new bandmates later that week. Their drummer suddenly quit because she got offered a job in another prefecture and Ochako found out thanks to a friend of hers.

The lead singer and bassist is a slim punk girl named Jirou. She’s very passionate about music and is the one that formed the band.

Playing the keyboards is a gorgeous woman named Yaoyorozu. The way she speaks shows that she must be from a wealthy family, but she gets embarrassed when he asks about it.

The blond man called Kaminari is one of the guitarists and Katsuki finds him annoying because he’s childish and likes to tease him a lot. He doesn’t find his jokes funny and barely tolerates him at first but ends up warming up to him eventually.

The other guitarist, a calm and silent man called Tokoyami, he actually likes. He’s the one that composes most of the lyrics of their original songs, although Jirou co-writes some too.

He finds that practising with them is easier than he expected. They’re all really good and he learns how to work with them without any difficulties.

Ochako steps in and starts managing the band. He’s only been with them for a little over a month when she gets them their first gig. It’s in a little bar that has a small stage for bands like them. They’re a bit cramped up there – he notices it when they start setting up – but it still makes Katsuki feel extremely excited.

He doesn’t hesitate before going on stage. He’s not scared. Maybe he should be, but he only feels exhilarated.

Sweat rolls down his forehead, but despite that, he feels elated. Raising his drumsticks, he looks into the spotlights.

His chest is heaving with every breath, and it feels like time is running in slow motion as he looks over the crowd, a ferocious grin on his face.

All his fears, all his emotions and tears, all his hard work, all his frustrations... they’re all worth it to be here, now, on top of a huge stage and loving every single moment of this.

His dream has come true. He remembers how he got the drum kit and his first lessons, how he was eager to learn and improve. He thinks about how inspiring he found ‘The Symbol of Peace’ and how he’s grown over the years. How everything – even the bad moments, like when he lost his drumming privileges or when he broke his drumsticks – have led him to where he is now. How this is so different to that time in that small stage at that gig Ochako got them.

Closing his eyes, he lets the grin fade slightly and turn into a loving smile instead.

This is new, but he feels grateful, and, most of all, happy, satisfied, fulfilled, completed.

With a deep sigh, he lowers his drumsticks and begins playing his drum solo from the last song of the night.

He bites his lip, not hard enough to draw blood but hopefully the little bit of pain stops him from crying. It doesn’t, because tears fall down his cheeks.

He’s not sad, nor relieved. He can’t believe it, but he’s actually crying from happiness, proud of himself.

He did it. He’s finally the king of his own destiny.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my writing #zine piece #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugou #bakugo #katsuki #drummer au #mha #my hero academia

2 notes · View notes

etudier-avec-bella · 5 years ago

Text

My First Term at University

Hello! If you’ve been following me for a while, you may have noticed that this blog has been pretty dead for the past few months. Like, literally no new posts have gone up from me since results day. Yikes. Where have I been, and what’s been going on? That’s what I’m here to clear up. Because I have a lot to talk about.

I am going to be touching on three main topics: Life at York, my course and how I’ve been studying, and- finally- my mental wellbeing.

So, grab a hot drink, get cosy, and prepare for what is possibly the longest piece of writing I’ve ever produced in my life. Seriously. It’s huge.

**Disclaimer: In no way is this post supposed to reflect the ‘real’ life of the average student at York, nor am I making any comment on the quality of education or student life at York. I am aware that I’m extremely lucky to be a student on one of the best Chemistry courses in the country, and this post is simply detailing how I found the transition from living at home to living independently as a university student. York- I love you. Even if you weren’t my first choice, I am so glad I ended up here. I’ve met some wonderful people and learned so many incredible things just in this first term alone. Please don’t take this post as me hating on York or something, because I really, really don’t lmao**

Life in York

Let’s kick things off by talking about what it’s like to live in York!

Contrary to what I initially assumed about moving to a university in the middle of the countryside (i.e. that there would be nothing to do), York is a beautiful city, and I’m so excited to get better acquainted with it over the next three years.

The high streets here are jam-packed full of hidden gems- I seriously think that you could go to a different coffee shop every day for a year, there are so many of them dotted around. I’ve loved being able to wander around and see where my feet take me, and there’s always somewhere new to discover; bookshops, cafés, museums, the castle walls, art exhibits, concerts… Oh, my!

Some of my favourite places that I’ve discovered so far are:

● Drift-In- my favourite little coffee shop! It’s never too busy if you go before midday, making it the ideal place to crack out some work in a more relaxed studying environment. They also offer a 10% student discount, and have a wall of polaroids of the dogs who have visited the café. Incredible.

● Lucky Days- the perfect place to take your friends for lunch! They also do really good cakes if you ever feel like treating yourself after submitting an assignment.

● The Little Apple Bookshop- There are lots of cute little indie bookshops on the road leading to the art gallery, but I think that this one is my personal favourite. Stock changes frequently, so it’s worth popping in every once in a while, and they have classic novels at much lower prices than the likes of Waterstones (for all of you English Lit students out there!)

As for the University Campus, it’s similarly wonderful. The River runs right through Campus West, making itself home to lots of ducks, geese, and other waterfowl. We also have wild bunnies outside the Biology greenhouses, and I always see them hopping around in the dark when I walk home from my French classes. Campus West isn’t too big- you can walk from one side to the other in about 15 minutes- so the student community is super tight-knit. I have friends from loads of different colleges who I’ve met through mixers, societies, and my classes, and it’s really easy for us to link up and do stuff together because we’re all so near to each other.

There are also some pretty cool places on campus, if you don’t feel like leaving to go to the city centre- the Sir Jack Lyons Concert Hall are always putting on lunchtime concerts with cheap tickets for students, which is a nice way to wind down after working all day AND show support for the music students, and there’s also a student-ran supermarket in Wentworth College called Scoop, where you can bring your own containers and buy spices/grains/pasta in bulk for much cheaper than you can in other similar supermarkets. Scoop also sell boxes of locally-sourced produce, making it easy to support small businesses on a budget!

Honestly, there are still lots of places on campus that I’m yet to visit. Whenever I get fed up of working, I like to go for a little 30-minute walk to the other side of the university grounds and see what I can find (there’s a really lovely garden behind Derwent College, it has a big stately manor house and lots of fancy greenery). It’s a nice way to get some fresh air and change up the scenery when I get stir-crazy from being in my room for so long.

My Course/Studying

As many, many people have told me in the past- university-level Chemistry is hard. And you know what? They were right. However, I like a challenge as much as the next overachiever, and as a self-confessed science nerd I’ve got to say… My course is a dream.

I know I’m only one term into my first year, but the way I look at basically everything around me has already changed so much. The fundamental knowledge you gain just from first module covers all of the main bases, and I’ve found that the way I think about and approach scientific problems is already very different to the way I would have looked at them during my A-Levels. You’re encouraged to think a lot more openly, and apply relatively basic concepts to solve really tricky problems instead of just learning the answers to a syllabus- it’s a great chance to utilise your all of your skills.

In terms of how I’ve been studying, not a lot has changed. My exams don’t carry any real credit this year, but I’m still aiming to achieve high grades. Over the Christmas break, I’ve been focusing a lot more on resting rather than working- so I whilst I haven’t done a LOT, the revision I’ve done has been productive. I still use flashcards and Quizlet, but I’ve recently introduced summary posters onto the scene as well, which has been working well for me. I’ll make a post on how I make these in the near future!

Overall, the first term has been pretty good academically. I feel stretched and challenged, and things are at a manageable level of difficulty. Which brings me onto something that has not been at a manageable level of difficulty this term…

My Wellbeing

Mental health. Something of a taboo topic within the study community. It’s something we all will deal with, and something most of us will struggle with to some degree at times. So, why don’t we talk about it more?

I won’t go into super deep, personal detail in this next section. Mostly because there are some things I’m not comfortable with sharing on the internet. However, I do think it’s important for me to use my small platform of followers to talk about my own experiences and attempt to tackle the stigma about being a student and struggling with mental health, so I am going to be as honest as I can about what’s been going on.

Before coming to university, I was already having a difficult time with my mental health, and had been for a few years. This summer was a particularly bad one for me. A-Levels left me completely exhausted, results day was a bit of a sticky one, and thinking about life as I knew it coming to an end was terrifying. I knew that, once I moved to uni, I was going to feel even sadder, lonelier, and more out-of-place than I already did. And I had no idea how to deal with it.

I believe that one of the biggest contributing factors to my sudden and sharp decline in mental wellness after arriving in York was the fact that, even two months later, I still hadn’t gotten over my Durham rejection. Ignoring my initial disappointment was a bad idea, though I didn’t know it at the time.

As someone who has been a high achiever their entire life, rejection and failure aren’t things I’m used to dealing with at all. Not on this scale, at least. Academics was the one thing I could always rely on, the one thing underpinning all of my successes. The one thing within which I had manifested almost my entire personality. Before, I was always Bella, the smart one. Bella, top of the class. Bella, the straight-A student; set to do great things; capable of going anywhere… But, now, here I was. Bella, just got rejected by her dream university.

Trying to settle into student life with a completely secure sense of self is hard enough- trying to settle in whilst struggling to cope with all of these new, conflicting feelings? It was so, so difficult. WAY more than I would ever admit to in real life. Stupid me was too proud to admit that I was upset to ‘only be going to my second choice’ so I told friends, family, and everyone else that I was perfectly happy to be going to York instead of Durham, and that I wasn’t sad about it at all.

(I want to clarify that I am in NO way trying to diminish the hard work and achievements of anybody who got into their second choice university, or anybody else who got into York. Only now have I realised that it’s nothing to be ashamed of, and if anything you should be proud that your efforts got you into whichever school you ended up in. I’m just sharing with you all how much I struggled to accept this rejection, and how it affected my mental health).

I knew people who had gotten in, and I saw them posting on Instagram about matriculation and other social events at the university. This completely broke my heart. I was happy for my friends who were studying there- they worked hard and more than deserved to be there… but I couldn’t help but feel jealous. I wanted to be there with them. The place that I had worked so incredibly hard to receive an offer for.

Although it’s embarrassing to admit, I did actually cry a bit after seeing these posts. I didn’t know how to process my feelings, because for those first few weeks after rejection I absolutely refused to let myself mope (looking back, I’ve got no idea why I did that. Wtf Bella?). I was determined to be strong about it and try to force myself to be happy with the situation I found myself in- despite the fact that, deep down, I knew it wasn’t where I wanted to be. Not at first, anyway. Pair the bittersweet pain of first-time rejection with my consistent struggle with self-esteem and low moods… Things got ugly fast.

If I had to put a finger on when I started to feel things getting really bad, I’d trace back to somewhere near the first month mark. Freshers week, whilst it felt awkward and drawn-out, wasn’t too bad in terms of my mental wellbeing. I think I was so caught up in trying to adjust to this crazy, new life I had that I didn’t have a lot of time to stop and wonder how I was feeling. Those of you who also struggle with mental health issues will know that they never really go away. They always at least linger in the background, if they aren’t in the forefront of your mind. So I suppose you could say that I felt my strange, healthy-but-unhealthy version of ‘normal’.

I hadn’t yet adapted to life as a York student, but that wasn’t much of a concern at this point. It takes a long time to adjust to change, and I had only been there for a few days. I thought I just needed to wait it out. But, after the first few weeks passed by, I started to notice something weird.

I still didn’t feel settled in. In fact, I didn’t feel like I was there at all. Nothing felt ‘real’. After years of dreaming and wondering what life would be like at university, I suddenly found that the situation I was in wasn’t what I expected it to be at all. I didn’t ‘feel’ like a university student here, even months into this first term. Or, rather, I didn’t feel what I had decided that being a university student ought to feel like.

For my whole life, I’ve attached so much of my identity to my intelligence and educational aspirations. To reach the highest stage of my academic career thus far- the place I’ve been working to get to my whole life- and find out that it was possible that this wasn’t where I wanted to be caused me to completely lose my sense of identity.

The conflict between feeling ‘too good’ for here, but simultaneously viewing my rejection as me ‘not being good enough’ for Durham left me drifting somewhere in the middle with all aspects of my life. University was a big deal for me, and had been for as long as I could remember. I attached so much of who I was to my work, and ergo the university I was going to go to. Having failed to prove to myself that I was who people had been telling me I was for years, I didn’t have scraps of personality left to hold onto.

I felt as though I didn’t belong here, but also that if that were true I didn’t really know where I did belong. I knew that I was smart, and that I was capable of achieving the A-Level grades that I needed to meet my offer requirements for my first choice. Things just didn’t go to plan in my Maths exams. But, at the same time, whenever I struggled with the work here in York, I would say to myself: ‘Oh, look. You can’t even manage the work they give you here. How did you ever think you were good enough for Durham?’

As you can imagine, this made my mental health quite difficult to manage properly. My inability to cope with rejection, trying to live independently for the first time, facing a whole new series of academic challenges, and missing my friends/family ALL took its toll on me in more ways than I care to say. But, stubborn old me tried to make the best of an unexpected, difficult situation. I decided that I wasn’t going to be ungrateful.

I had been accepted into one of the best schools for my subject in the country. I was going to try and make the most of life here, even if it wasn’t what I had wanted in the beginning, and even if it was proving to be a lot harder than I thought it would be. I wish I could say I was able to move past the sadness I felt because of my rejection and because of all of the other things going on in my life (my already poor mental health, trying to live independently…), but that just wasn’t the case.

To keep it short and sweet, student life was kicking my arse.

The dip in my mental health began to affect my ability to work and take care of myself. I was struggling with this sudden and total lack of motivation to keep up with just about everything.

Independent study was completely forgotten about. I skipped countless music rehearsals, and rarely spent time with my flatmates and friends. I didn’t cook properly- I relied on foods that took less than five minutes to cook or didn’t eat at all. I didn’t put as much effort into looking after myself and looking presentable as usual; I usually love dressing nicely, carrying out elaborate skincare and makeup routines- but all of that immediately went out of the window. I rarely left my room, and I would stay essentially completely by myself for days at a time.

There was no part of my life that didn’t take a blow as a result of my poor wellbeing. It was like I’d given up and decided I would just settle for the bare minimum and float aimlessly until the winter break arrived. I didn’t care anymore. Not about appearance, not about my work, and not about me.

Now is probably the time to mention that I didn’t actually tell anyone that this was going on, spare one of my closest friends who I knew for sure wouldn’t judge me. To this day, most people still have no idea that I was having such a bad time, and that I’m still feeling the residual negative emotions from the last few weeks of term. There are a lot of reasons why I didn’t talk to anyone about it, but the main two were that I’m a very private person, and that my family isn't always the most understanding when it comes to helping each other deal with mental health issues. I desperately wanted other people to know what I was going through, but the thought of coming out and telling them straight-up petrified me. I knew I couldn’t do it. So, I chose to hide all of it under the façade of being exhausted from my busy timetable. Or whatever excuse was most convenient at the time for whoever asked me what was wrong.

Another reason I didn’t tell anybody about what was going on kind of plays into the problems I’d been wrestling with before coming to uni (they’ve been an issue for much longer than just this summer, just to point out). I won’t talk about them in detail, because I’m not ready to discuss a lot of what I went through and what I’m still going through, but I’ll say that part of it is that I have a pretty crippling fear of being judged by other people. For my physical appearance, for my academic achievements, for my personal opinions and preferences- for everything. Everything. I don’t really talk about myself to anybody, so even just writing this post feels a bit odd. As you can imagine, admitting I’d been having a terrible time with my mental health to my close friends and family was out of the question.

I had basically reached my lowest point ever. I felt lonely, isolated, and completely lost. I wasn’t living the life people were expecting me to, and I wasn’t

Maybe this seems silly to some of you out there reading this who are dealing with a much bigger and more painful situations than my own. I recognise that there are much worse things I could be going through. And no, of course not every day of the past term was awful. I’m not trying to say that being rejected from my dream university caused this- rather that it fed into what was already a significantly complex problem. But, for someone like myself who pinned all of their self-worth on their educational goals and achievements- for someone who had never really ‘failed’ at something like this before- I was pretty fucking crushed. Enough to make me lose track of basic things I’d never usually had a problem managing before.

My problems had engulfed my life. I was miserable and couldn’t stand it. I was fed up of sticking it out alone. Desperate to let someone else take the burden for a little while, I finally, finally decided it might be worth considering getting some help.

I made an appointment to go and visit the University mental health services, and they signposted me to the local NHS mental health services. The waiting list for an assessment was surprisingly short- it only took me 2-3 weeks to get an appointment where I could receive an initial diagnosis and learn what treatments were available.

It was at this point I found out that I had an anxiety disorder.

This wasn’t particularly shocking news- I struggled with social anxiety as a young teenager- but it made me quite emotional to finally hear someone tell me that what I was feeling WAS part of a bigger problem. It wasn’t just me blowing things out of proportion.

So, that brings us to where I am now. Currently on the waiting list for group therapy. I haven’t really decided if its something I want to talk about on this blog yet, but I feel like even just sharing with other students that I took the step to go and seek help from my uni will hopefully encourage more people who are struggling to do so as well. Most universities have decent mental health services, or at least someone who can point you in the direction of the appropriate resources to help you, so it’s definitely worth looking into in my opinion.

But, right now, I’m feeling okay. This term has been challenging for me and my emotional wellbeing, but the knowledge that I ploughed through and (for the first time in my life) asked for help when I knew I needed it makes me feel proud of myself. A month away from halls has definitely helped me, and I’m actually looking forward to going back with a new, rejuvenated perspective on student life- which leads me onto the final section of this long, waffly post...

What have I learned? How am I trying to make changes? What are my plans for the future?

Well, aside from developing my Chemical knowledge through some pretty fantastic lecture courses and practical sessions, I’ve discovered a lot about myself this term. For example- I’ve realised that I place too much of my personal value on academic achievement and the prestige of the institutions I’m a member of. I should learn to accept that I am so much more than my grades, and that it doesn’t matter where I go to school. Sure, it would have been nice to enjoy all of the things life in Durham has to offer, but does it really matter when I’m living in a beautiful city, studying the subject I love with people who are just as excited about it as I am, and watching myself change and blossom into a completely new person? Not at all.

The most important thing, and the most difficult, was to admit and accept that I wasn’t having a good time here. And that it was okay to feel like this. I could lie to everyone around me about it and say that I was happy, but I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. In fact, it took being honest with myself for me to actually start to feel a little bit happier about where I was- literally AND mentally.

I suppose this begs the following question: would I consider transferring? Surely, after all of the emotional chaos I went through trying to get over what felt like the biggest setback of my life so far, I would take the ‘easy way out’ and re-sit my Maths papers so that I could re-apply to Durham and live the life I was convinced I needed to be living?

Honestly… No. Partially because the heartbreak of being rejected was kind of enough to put me off potentially going through it again by re-applying, but also because I feel like this is an important life experience for me to have.

I need to learn healthy coping mechanisms for dealing with rejection and being in situations I didn’t initially want to be in. Obviously, there are lines and limits with this kind of thing, and it differs from person to person and situation to situation, but I’m in a good place for me, I think. It isn’t perfect, but it isn’t meant to be. And I know that if I work hard to make the most of everything my life has to offer me, I’ll reach a point where the struggles I’m dealing with now will be but a distant memory.

...

So, that’s all I want to mention for now! I hope this explains why I’ve been so absent from this blog. Being productive was something I really struggled to do this term, so I didn’t have much going on that I could really post about. However, I’m looking forward to showing more of what my life as a Chemistry student at York looks like when I move back up for term two.

Talking about this has really helped me to reflect on my experiences and gain a little bit of closure from what was a pretty wild and confusing 11 weeks. I might post more content like this in the future, because I think it’s important to show other students that they aren’t alone and more people are dealing with things like this than they realise, but I won’t make any promises just yet.

I hope you are all having a lovely winter break, wherever you are, and I hope you are all looking forward to the next term of school, college, university, or even just the New Year by itself!

See you soon.

Bella <3

#studyblr #mental health #student mental health #anxiety #coping with anxiety

15 notes · View notes

chiclet-go-boom · 5 years ago

Text

fracture 5: push

The cloth walls do nothing to cut the cacophony and Rey has had to shuffle closer than she wants get to make sure her translator picks up everything. The smell of the creature’s skin is a horrible mix of burnt oil, the sickly sweet fried dalaba fruit that is so popular here and something that might have died a generation ago but is still trying to crawl around. She keeps swallowing and hopes desperately that if her own hastily eaten rations makes a reappearance that it will be perceived as a compliment.

The smell might even be part of the goods on display for all she knows. Vision narrows for a second and she jerk herself back a little, her ears ringing. Probably not a good idea to faint in the thing’s shop.

“Too cheap, waste of breath that is not yours,” the being chitters at her, three eyes narrowed across the plascrete containers that have been stacked to make a rude counter. Its single antenna - is that an antennae or some kind of lure? - bobs in the non-existent breeze as if in emphasis. “More value than you carry in birthing pouch, go throw your cubes on the ground where is that is not here. Waste of water.” The lure-thing jerks upwards in what might be dismissal, encouragement to keep haggling or even a signal to mate for all she knows.

Rey clutches the third rate translator module she’s using even tighter but it doesn’t spit anything more encouraging at her. At least it works, even if all she’s getting is the sinking feeling that what she’s been authorized to use out of their remaining funds isn’t going to be anywhere enough for the fuel they need. This is the fourth merchant she’s approached and he’s even less willing to deal than the others. She’s running out of time.

“That’s extortion and you know it. I need at least a half kiloton and I’ll pay you upfront in hard credit chip. You throw in the delivery because you want your mother to like you.”

It’s only mid afternoon to her but nearing local midnight here and the thrust from ship day to planet night is messing with her head. The harsh lights from the spaceport a half klick away are bright enough to keep the worst of the thieves out of the main areas in this shanty market but she’s not stupid enough to trust her luck farther into the shadows. Its limited her options.

She’s been at this for too long but she can’t go back without something to show for it, she just can’t. Her translator chitters her latest offering and she leans in closer, holding her breath to keep the stench at bay. “I can always find somebody else more reasonable, you know, and all those beautiful credits will go to someone else. You don’t want that now, do you?”

The thing booms something back and a few seconds later she gets the relay. “Sold mothers after I cracked egg second time. I sell full only, kilo topped and you pay proper. Credit okay. Delivery at second sun, no sooner.” The bobble on its head waggles and she finds she’s tracing it with her eyes. Maybe it is a lure. She drags her eyes away and leans on her staff with both hands as if she’s considering it.

“A full kilo then, credits only when my ship is fueled and ready to lift, delivery in the next hour.”

Afterwards she blames it on the fact they’ve been on half rations for weeks, that she’d thought the odd distortions were because of hunger, the overwhelmingly foreign smell of the crowd, the food, the very ground, the lassitude that comes from being stretched too thin for too long.

“You know he’s cheating you. Why are you letting him get away with it?”

Dark, sweet like spice. It rolls over her skin and she closes her eyes in sudden panic. When did he get here? How did she not notice?

She swallows and risks a glance over her shoulder. Three long steps away he’s in full regalia, cowl over his head but for some reason his mask is still in his hand. His entire face is in shadow but wherever he is, the lights catch stray glitter in his eyes. He seems relaxed, bored even as he watches with his head tilted to the side as if curious. Her mouth goes dry and her throat tries to close.

The Supreme Leader of the First Order is here, watching her trying to get them all a little farther away from his vendetta. No doubt grading her efforts.

She turns back to the merchant, feeling his black gaze boring through the back of her skull.

“Is it a deal?” she pushes desperately.

“Make him give you two kilos. That bucket of bolts eats fuel like you drink water.”

The translator spits again. “Next hour impossible. First sun and you pay now, twenty percent for rush rush smuggler fuel and you go back to stars, waste all breath you want.”

Her frustration spikes with agitation; at the need to get this deal done, any deal done, because the truth is they’re nearly out of spendable credits and docking fees are by the hour in this rat bitten sand forsaken place and it’s racking up every single minute she stands here. Leia has been calling in decades-old favors for days, scrambling to get her aristocratic hands on more in time to actually do them some good. She doesn’t have another twenty percent to give and she wouldn’t even if she had it.

But they also have to get out of here. It’s now gone from urgent to imperative.

She hears him move closer which isn’t helping her concentration, not with the lift of the fine hair on the back of her neck that is part atavistic fear of things moving just out of sight but also part tremble of simple awareness. She doesn’t look. She won’t look.

Dark hair and darker eyes and his voice that is so calm right up until the moment it’s not.

Kylo. Ben.

She takes a breath, straightening with nervous tension, knowing that it gives her away but unable to help it. Tells herself to ignore the warmth starting to radiate at her back, the bulk of his body stepping up to dwarf hers with a rustle of dark fabric that only she can hear. She can take care of herself and she can take care of this. She’s not anyone’s easy meal.

And suddenly he’s at her shoulder, leaning down. He’s dropped his hood and his cheek hovers near hers, a bare whisper from touching. He’s looking ahead the same as she is, as if they’re in this together.

“You can make him give whatever you need. Go on. Convince him. Push.”

She freezes, fingers clenched on her staff and she has no idea how that looks. Her eyes are too wide, she knows they are and for that second she is helpless to what she feels. So close. Too karking close.

The stupid, frightening, insane urge to shift back the half step it would take, to touch. He’s right there. She could turn, fist a hand in his clothing, pull him in. Rip him from wherever he is into this reality, this moment. He’d be here.

His mouth starts to move near her temple, near nuzzling her hair as if he’s thinking the same thing.

“Even the Jedi bowed to necessity,” he breathes, barely loud enough to be heard over the clatter of the market, the press of business shifting outside this dirty little stall. “Ask for three.”

The antennae in her locked vision wobbles from side to side and she has no idea what it means when the two outer eyes close entirely, leaving only the central one to stare at her. “Twenty five percent, or get out of way. Agree, no agree, other eggs need to hatch.”

She digs her fingers into her staff as if it’s the only stable thing in the world and a wave of despair at all the things that are out of her control washes up from nowhere.

It’s not fair, it’s never been fair. It will never be fair. The entire galaxy over, every junk market, every back alley in every city on every world, there is always Unkar Plutt looking at her through the bars, holding things out of reach, charging more each time and giving less and less.

Yet — Kylo Ren stands at her back now. Kylo Ren, with the crushing weight of the entire First Order stretching behind him in lightyear wings of blackness and she stares across dust and dirt and distance at this grasping backworld creature who thinks it can drive her to her knees, because from where it stands it must seem pitifully obvious that she has no other choices.

“Three kilos,” she breathes out. “To be delivered in one hour. Half credits will be paid when the ship is ready to lift.”

The beaten little machine in her hand has no time to cough out anything at all before this world’s junk boss is answering her back. A heartbeat later, the translator crackles. “Three kilos, one hour. Half credits paid then, yes, yes. Agreed.”

She exhales and it’s only then as the seconds tick past that she realizes what she’s just done, just what he told her to do. Her mind stutters with a weird sort of horror and then stops entirely because she didn’t mean to do that, she didn’t intend that at all. She was just… she didn’t mean it.

But she’s rolled its mind, that simply, that quickly. Just because she needed what he had, desperate to have it and get away from here, get away from him, tired of waiting for something that will never come. Because he whispered in her ear and he smells of smoke and honey and everything she never thought she’d ever want.

She stands near paralyzed with just how easy it was.

She can all but taste his satisfaction, dark and pleased. His breath tickles her ear. “Try not to explode my father’s ship.”

And he’s gone.

#fanfiction #reylo #kylo ren #rey

4 notes · View notes

biot08 · 4 years ago

Text

By Popular Request, Adagio’s Will Fragment, related to the Gaming Guardians roleplay (now long over)

I, Adagio Redwinter, being of sound mind and body, do declare this to be my last Will and Testament.

On the Execution of my Will

Over the course of my operational existence, I have managed to accumulate a great many material things of varying levels of worth. This, I suppose, is due to my natural curiosity leading to me find the new and interesting, coupled with a lifespan that is unnaturally long for many sapient species. As well, various endeavors throughout my existence have lead me to make investments and to head several ventures, with varying levels of success and prosperity. It is now, at the end of my operational lifetime, that I intend to try and give some of what I have received back.

To see to the immense task of administering my final accounts, and to assure that my final wishes are carried out properly, I authorize my executor, Zeta Aquilae, to use those funds and materials necessary to establish the Synapse Intercorporation. The Intercorporation's internal structure and method of operation will be determined by her best judgement. The Synapse Intercorporation shall oversee the execution of my last wishes as described in this will.

It is worth noting that parts of this will are hidden from public view. This is not so much to hide anything of true note, but rather to allow some of my instructions to have a certain reactive quality to them, such that if certain conditions are met, other instructions may be carried out that may not be otherwise. My executor is aware of all of the hidden portions of my will, as well as the encryption keys necessary to view them.

I have been working on this will continuously for several years, always ensuring that it accurately reflects my wishes in the event of my demise, whether accidental or not. My understanding is that many sapients who have a tradition of finality similar to a will tend to use them as instruments of encouragement and revenge. The idea of continuing to influence the multiverse at large after my existence has ceased is one that amused me. If I have misunderstood the purpose of a will, I hope others shall view my attempt here in a reasonable light. I would caution those who read this to be aware that I am not human, and indeed, I believe I am the first of my kind to have a will of any sort. I would also note that, as my operational lifetime was originally expected to be infinite, and indeed has stretched on for a great many centuries, I do tend to take a very long view on matters. In addition to ensuring my own matters are tied up neatly, and designating specific recipients for parts of my estate, I have also made several bequests that I hope will benefit all sapients everywhere, both Primarian and System born.

I have always sought knowledge, and much of my life has been dedicated to seeking truth. I have not yet found it, but I hope that, through this will, I may lead others to find it, both for themselves and for others. I would implore all those who read this will to look to one another, and, if failing in all other tasks, that they may reach the lofty goal of one day ... understanding.

To Zeta Aquilae, who sought to understand me, and who was with me on my many travels, I leave the bulk of my estate, save for those things otherwise covered by this will. I name Zeta Aquilae the executor of my estate and the head of the Synapse Intercorporation, in which capacity she will oversee the execution of this will in accordance with my wishes.

To Nightdark, my original second, and so loyal to me all these years, I give you back your life and your freedom. I only wish I could give you your old life back, Megan. I hope that your memories will suffice.

In the memory of a woman who I was often at odds with, and yet who I still feel a deep kinship with, I find myself able to do little. I now realize the trick you played during our last game, old friend, and I hope that in the afterlife I am able to give you the match you deserve. In her memory, I present a red queen chess piece to the orange queen who now rules the forest in Gamer's End. May there forever be peace and understanding in the world she gave her life to birth.

To Aria Winters, I leave my memoirs, and my core, should it still remain, to be disposed of however she sees fit. I hope your path in life will be less troubled than mine was.

To Kale, I leave the Defender, and the legacy that goes along with it. The history of this vessel is long and deep, young Kale. You should ask Majir about it. I also give him my spaces onboard Prometheus Space Station, and my apartment in Gamer's End, as well as the contents of my bank account on Prometheus Station, and the key to my safety deposit box for the same. Remember that while the mind makes the man, the tools allow it to act better on its environment.

To Sage, I leave the Colossus, a five kilometer wide space ship that was carved out of an asteroid in BESM-SF 87-5-29. I am afraid, my dear, that this is the last rock I am able to give to you.

To the first two hundred people who show up, I leave a can of Sprite from my storage unit onboard Prometheus. One of the cans contains an actual sprite, but it got mixed in with the thoroughly mundane cans, and I never did get around to determining which can it was. I figure this is both a good way to make sure the sprite gets some use, as well as getting rid of a fair bit of unused stock. (( Note: If you want the special can, just hop on IRC and get ahold of me before the end of March. ))

To whoever determines the identity and composition of those figures who are in charge of the Gaming Guardians to the satisfaction of the Synapes Intercorporation, I leave the monetary equivalent of 20,000 XP. Transparency in operations might go a long way toward building good will, my friends. As well as being profitable.

To whoever finds Wargolem, I leave 1 million XP or medical care for the remainder of their natural life, whichever seems most appropriate.

To the first party to determine what 'Velvet Fist' is, I leave behind 10000XP.

To the person who finds the original 'Wirrit', I leave 6000 XP, so long as they deliver a copy of this will to her.

To the original 'Wirrit', I leave my yo-yo. Spend some time with it and consider that the nature of the multiverse is not as you thought it was.

To Majir Sobaan, I leave co-ordinates to a little known Fallout system. Do not be startled by what you find there. Hopefully it will explain much.

To Solita Ariennye, I leave my Seattle, Washington condo, a motorcycle, and the assets contained in the safety deposit box to which she will be given a key. While it is not the world you know and love, I hope you will enjoy Seattle, and your second retirement. I imagine you've learned your lesson.

Once a year, a jet black rose, preserved by freezing, shall be delivered to Solita Ariennye's condo in Seattle, for as long as she lives there, as a reminder that some loyalties have too high a price for us all.

Because we who occupy jaunt space are not always so careful as we should be, the Synapse Intercorporation is directed to establish the System Defenders. The goals of the Defenders are as follows: to monitor potential abuses of jaunt space and its denizens; to protect the rights of denizens of jaunt space; to establish a set of parameters that will facility a working relationship between those from the Systems and those from the Primary; to create a sanctuary in Jaunt space for beings in search of a safe retreat; and to patrol Jaunt space in such a way as to ensure that junk and debris accidentally or otherwise left in Jaunt is cleaned up in such a way as to prevent any interference with normal system development. Since many of these functions are already provided somewhat by Gamer's End and Prometheus, I use my last act as an owner of a Captain's Seat to propose that the systems already in place be diverted to form a better, more unified front for members of the Systems.

To any who find a vessel looking like BeRT ( photo attached ), or its Pilot unit, I authorize the payment of 5000 XP for its finding, and 15000 XP for its destruction. The possibility of its existence could mean a dark time for us all.

To the first fifty so-called 'voidkers' who show up to any branch of the Synapse Intercorporation, I grant a token of my esteem. The terrible events that have occurred in the voided Shadowrun system darken all our lives, and I hope to foster understanding between those who were touched by it and the rest of the multisystems at large as we move forward.

For research into jaunt phenomena considered dangerous, such as Jaunt storms and void patches, I leave four million XP, to be distributed by the Synapse Intercorporation.

To Nightengale Nightforest, whose voice is the purest I have ever heard, and moved me nearly to emotion, I know from our conversations that you have no further need for wealth. So I leave 3 million XP to be donated in your name to the charity of your choice.

I leave one hundred thousand XP to fund an expedition to Jaunt system FC-F 00-13-225.

I leave five thousand XP to fund the summoning of a spirit capable of traversing jaunt and casting a permanent Sex Change spell on the Shadowrunner known as 'Suit'. The spell will need to be of sufficient power that he will require external assistance in dispelling or reversing it. While I do not think it will change his outlook in life at all, the change in perspective for him may be educational, and if not that, at least entertaining. If some other method of bringing about the same end effect can be established, so much the better.

To the person who successfully finds what is behind door 13-B in the main building of the Church of True Harmony, I give 10000 XP upon its revelation to an authority of either the Guardians, the Defenders, or the Synapse Intercorporation.

#202007-27 #gaming guardians #roleplaying #Adagio's Will #the void accepts all

1 note · View note

doomedandstoned · 5 years ago

Text

Wasteland Coven Summon Doom From the Rust Belt

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

You're about to meet a true blue, dyed in the wool doom band from Ohio, which I discovered just a few weeks ago. This is WASTELAND COVEN, aptly named considering the industrial devastation that has visited the midwest, accentuated now even more in a time of pandemic. 'Ruined' (2020) is their debut EP and it features a singer, Susan Mitchel, that I would rank with Susie MacMullen of Brume and Dorthia Cottrell of Windhand. Sometimes vocalists try to pull off that coveted, full-bodied range, but end up sounding thin and wobbly. Not here.

Performing double duty on bass, Susan is joined in this Toledo crew by guitarists Bill Anderson and Brandon Collins, along with drummer Jason Wilcox. This is meat and potatoes doom, too, each of the three tracks on Ruined bearing the formative influences of Candlemass and Saint Vitus (the vocal cadence and guitar solos of "The Great Colossus"), Trouble and My Dying Bride (the mysterious and dramatic "Endless Night"), and the aforementioned Windhand (the riff laden intro to "Midsummer Days").

This mix of beauty and beast works well for Wasteland Coven. Susan's vocals take wings with sad urgency, rising above the dense, darkly downtuned procession of smoke and fire. Bittersweet leads break through the haze here and again, too, if for no other reason than to accent the gravity of the moment.

I've listened to the EP multiple times in a row and it is substantial enough to keep my appetite for doom satiated, without overstaying its welcome with an overly-familiar taste. Look for its release on Friday, April 17th (pre-order CD here), and listen to the record whole right here, right now via Doomed & Stoned!

Give ear...

Ruined by Wasteland Coven

A Chat with Wasteland Coven Guitarist Brandon Collins

Take us back to the band's origins. How did it all begin for you guys?

Things got started in late 2018, when our drummer Jason posted on Facebook asking if anybody wanted to play something dark and heavy. He was already playing in a punk band (The Old Breed) and a noise rock band (Sog City) so he was really looking to start more of a Manilla Road inspired band - he's a big Manilla Road fan. Sue (bass and vocals) and I (guitar) were both interested in Jason's pitch but style shifted a little bit as we all got together. By the first time we met up, he said to aim for Candlemass meets My Dying Bride (which I declared sorcery) and from there we drifted into the doom menagerie that we're at now.

Jason quickly roped in another guitar player, but after a month or two he lost interest, so we spent some time looking for another. During that search period we sketched out our first songs and booked some studio time for later in the year - we were going to record what we had regardless of who we had. Eventually Sue reached out to Bill who solidified the lineup midway through 2019 and we were officially a band. We practiced, finished up the songs as a four piece, and went to Lakebottom Recording House in September 2019.

How about a walk-through of the songs on 'Ruined' (2020)?

Midsummer Days

I think we all agree that this is the best song on here. It was going to be a shorter and simpler song originally, but it really kind of blossomed with all of us adding new bits to it. Lyrics mainly involve the imagery and feelings of a dying world. Really it's a sad, poetic veil over the changing of seasons, summer to fall to winter - seeing everything in nature fade and decay as seasonal depression kicks in. Admittedly, "Midsummer Days" isn't really a doomy title, but when you realize that they're dead. That'll teach you to judge too quickly! Kinda had to push Sue a bit to do the "trailing off into the void" vocals right at the end. She was reluctant, but I'm really glad she did them. It really adds some resonating loneliness.

Great Colossus

So originally, I came up with the riffs for this, played them for Jason, and when he added drums, his style immediately put Sue in mind of robots -- giant robots. And that drove us to make this our weirdest song lyrically, about falling in love with a giant robot with sexual overtones. Sue and I went back and forth on the lyrics for this one a lot, tweaking it to put just the right sultry spin on something cold and mechanical. This song sort of prompted the cover art. Around the time we were recording songs Sue was at an art show and saw the piece. Made her think of the song and said we needed it on our EP!

Endless Night

This was our first song, so I like to say it has first song syndrome -- not quite as strong as the others and maybe sticks out a little more 'cause you're trying to find your direction. But the main riff and the solos are still fun, so why not? Since it was going to be the first song for our doom band, the lyrics hit on a pretty typical doom metal topic: death. But I suppose the twist is that it's more about setting aside your fears and finding peace in your demise -- even as the music kind of betrays that peace and hints at the dread and dark thoughts behind it all. Solos here were fun to do. I take the first half of the solo section and Bill takes the second half, so we each get a chance to go our own direction just meeting for a moment to hand it off in the middle.

What was the recording process like for the band?

The bulk of it was done over the course of two weekends, September 27-29 and October 4-6 in 2019 (with a bit of touch up and review a few times afterwards). We went to Lakebottom Recording House in Toledo owned and operated by J.C. Griffin. Jason had recorded with J.C. many times before and refused to go anywhere else. But for the rest of us, it was our first time there and it was fantastic.

It's hard to imagine how it would have worked out with anyone else. J.C. is super encouraging and immediately invested in making sure you're getting a great sound - he's gives great direction for process, equipment, and performance. Really great weekends overall hanging out and playing music the whole time. The hardest part might have actually been the work week in between those two weekends -- coming down from all the joys and excitement with days full of music made "regular" life such a dull slog where we were just desperate to go back and do it again. Easily the most fun and best experience I've had recording.

In retrospect, maybe it was a bit weird that we were all so happy and having such a great time producing this melancholy music, but I don't think we put any thought into it at the time. Susan was extremely nervous and self-conscious when it came time to do her vocals, but with enough liquid courage she nailed it.

It looks like you had the album cover commissioned?

Artwork was done by Jackie McKown who lives here in Toledo. Sue saw the piece at an art show where Jackie was showing her stuff. These giant robot creatures wrecking shit was pretty in line with the initial themes of Great Colossus - it was lacking the sex/love angle, but it still fit just fine with the kind of destructive war-machines that could inspire love. Sue was very taken with it right away, so we went with it.

There's also presumably death and longing for better times involved in that kind of city-wide rampage, so you can tie into the other tracks as well. We sort of let that guide us, having the artwork inspire the title "Ruined." We had a city being ruined on the cover and we could find some form of ruination in each song. Then when it came time to lay everything out, we decided to ruin things a little more, adding wrinkles and dirt marks and imperfections.

This last question is just for the gearheads! Tell us what you're sporting these days?

Brandon: Epiphone Les Paul Studio guitar with an Orange Crush CR120C amp (frequently used to accidentally drown out everyone else), and for pedals: Big Muff Pi (with Tone Wicker), MXR EVH Phase 90, Cry Baby Wah.

Sue: Ibanez BTB 5 String Quilt Top bass, DR Dragon Skin strings (allergic to nickel), with a Fender Rumble 500 Combo amp and Big Muff Pi pedal.

Bill: ESP LTD Viper-256 w/Gibson 498T bridge guitar, ESP LTD EC-100 w/EMG 81/85. Amps include Peavey Valveking 2x12, Carvin X100-B 100 watt head*, and Carvin 4x12 Cab (used as needed). Pedal of choice: Digitech GNX4 Multi-Effects.

Jason: Tama Rockstar Drums.

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

#D&S Debuts #Wasteland Coven #Toledo #Ohio #Doom #Metal #D&S Reviews #HeavyBest2020 #Doomed & Stoned

2 notes · View notes

comicteaparty · 4 years ago

Text

June 8th-June 14th, 2020 CTP Archive

The archive for the Comic Tea Party week long chat that occurred from June 8th, 2020 to June 14th, 2020. The chat focused on Devil Tongue by Samuel Soto-Saines and Lucas Soto.

Featured Comment:

Chat:

Comic Tea Party

BOOK CLUB START!

Hello and welcome everyone to Comic Tea Party’s Book Club~! This week we’ll be focusing on Devil Tongue by Samuel Soto-Saines and Lucas Soto~! (https://deviltonguecomic.com/)

You are free to read and comment about the comic all week at your own pace until June 14th, so stop on by whenever it suits your schedule! Discussions are freeform, but we do offer discussion prompts in the pins for those who’d like to have them. Additionally, remember that while constructive criticism is allowed, our focus is to have fun and appreciate the comic! Whether you finish the comic or can only read a few pages, everyone is welcome to join and chat with us!

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 1

1. What did you like about the beginning of the comic?

2. What has been your favorite moment in the comic (so far)?

3. Who is your favorite character?

4. Which characters do like seeing interact the most?

5. What is something you like about the art? If you have a favorite illustration, please share it!

6. What is a theme you like that the comic explores?

7. What do you like about the comic’s story or overall related content?

8. Overall, what do you think the comic’s strengths are?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

mariah (rainy day dreams)

1. I really appreciated how this comic felt really authentically shonen manga right off the bat without feeling tropey or overwrought. 2. I liked when the protagonists confront the ghost in the theater. I just really enjoyed the ghosts dialogue and dramatic jestures. 3. Moira is my fav so far. She's got a sword and seems capable, though is also still an apprentice so I'm looking forward to seeing how she grows.

boogeymadam

1, ALL THE CATS!! :D but more seriously, the way the characters are introduced through their job, and yet their personalities still shine through~ 2, i liked the scene when they're leaving the Lemaire house and walking on a dark misty neighborhood street at night. It's so atmospheric and perfect for their discussion on what kind of ghost their target might be, as well as what kinda threats it may pose :0 3, I can't decide, they're all interesting. Leera was introduced last but I like her enthusiasm! 2, Moira and Leera during the scene where Moira is explaining tinctures to Leera. Moira's so goal oriented and focused while messing with some apprently-very-dangerous stuff and Leera's just trying to avoid boredom. Moira seemed patient of Leera (for the most part) and willing to explain stuff, which was cool. It made me smile. 5, Oh Man, a lot!! The lines are so very clean and precise, every characters' silhouttes is distinct. It's hard to pick which page is my favorite, but I'd have to say https://deviltonguecomic.com/comic/chapter-01-page-32/ because of all the dynamic angles and expressions on the characters. 6, Pupils taking over from the mentor. I like how Emery is allowing his pupil, Moira, to prove herself, and she seems extremely eager to do so and also: good at it! I can only imagine what Emery is like at this job :0 8, A fun and classic premise of paranormal investigators, of a sort, but with magic of their own, making it even more interesting. It's easy to root for the protagonists and feel curious about what got them into this business, or what they were like before they reached this level of fame and skill. And also, there are talking cats!! Huge draw!

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I agree with your #6 Boogey. I do really like how Emery is like "I'm just here to mentor, this is Moira's job." I like seeing the apprentice really get to take point on the mission. I did see though on the cast page that Emery's magic type is just "?????" which definitely makes me what to see him throw down some magic now XD very curious what it is

boogeymadam

OHHH i hadn't spotted that! a secret, how exciting :0c

copperine (Lady Changeling)

I'm not familiar with this one, but I'm intrigued now (and should stop reading this channel till I've read the comic...)

I'll read in the morning and try to give some thoughts

RebelVampire

What I like about the beginning is the character development. Cause we get a lot of it and find out things like Emery being an ex-magician, his relationship with Moira, etc. Yet, at the same time, the plot is not sacrificed and the story is still moved along smoothly, which is a great balancing act. My favorite moment in the comic so far is actually all the times Emery feigns that he doesn't care but then we get those shots of him peeking and spying. I find those adorable but just also really nice character moments. My favorite character at the moment is Emery. I like aloof characters and he fits that bill. I also like his general cynicism about life. Emery is the sort of character who I'd have as a friend in real life. XD As for characters interacting the most, probably Leera and a combo of Emery and Moira. Leera has pretty different motivations for being there, is somewhat opposite in personality from the main pair, and just all around adds an interesting dynamic too the group that kind of makes certain elements of the story seem more grounded. I really just in general love the comic's linework. Not only is everything super clean (making the action easy to follow), but it really knows how to bulk up the shadows to create specific atmospheres that really work for each panel and add so much to each scene.

In terms of themes, I like that the comic somewhat explores with Emery the concept of what to do with your life after your previous life fails. I think we all kind of like to believe we'll do X forever and X comes to define us in a lot of ways. But then suddenly X might not be there and it's like, what is life now? How do I deal with life? And with Emery, I do think we get to kind of experience one path that kind of takes. What I like about the comic's overall content is the...strange mix of fantasy and realism. I can't really put it into words. Like this is definitely a fantasy story, yet there's elements of realism thrown in I wouldn't expect. Like things are almost scarily normal in some respects like the houses or journalism, etc. So everything about the world really intrigues me since it feels super unique in tone. Finally, for strengths, I'm referring back to the art here. I think the atmosphere the art adds to each scene really helps give the comic that extra oomph.

Erin Ptah (BICP | Leif & Thorn)

Everyone's covered all the stuff I like about the characters, so let me just throw in some extra praise for the backgrounds. Those elaborate buildings! That towering opera-house interior! That one sequence with light streaming through elegantly-patterned windows!

Comic Tea Party

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 2

9. What do you think Emery did that caused him to be exiled by the Magician Order? How does this factor into his general cynicism and bitterness? Also, do you think Emery will ever be a magician again?

11. Besides following Emery and Moira around, what role do you think Leera will have in the story? How might Leera’s presence hurt or help the duo on each case? Also, how will Leera change as she experiences things firsthand?

12. How do you think Moira and Emery will resolve the haunted opera house situation? Can the kidnapped girl be saved, or is she truly gone forever? Additionally, what other sorts of cases do you expect to see after this one?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

RebelVampire

Honestly, I get the impression that Emery was good but also just a rebellious rule breaker type. So he probably got exiled for just not fitting in with the club regardless of anything else he might have done. Which to me would explain the cynicism cause it would show him how much of life is just a popularity contest. As for being a magician again, maybe, but the bigger question is would he want to? My current theory for Moira was that she's just ill-suited to the order. I'm sure she's heard awful things about it from Emery, so why join team lame when you can join Emery and be on team winner. As for how Moira will grow, I think she'll just learn to take things a bit more seriously and mature (though probably still pretty happy and excited). I've talked about Leera a bit already, but I think her major role in the story is the grounding element and reader's eyes. Cause someone needs to ask questions for the readers, and I think that will be Leera. But in terms of plot, I also think Leera will just help them get more work by spreading their name to lands far and wide. I think in terms of how Leera will change, I think mostly she'll maybe find better things to publish about and the power she wields with words. I think the kidnapped girl can be saved, but that it needs to be done quickly. As for how this will ultimately resolve, I assume epic battle followed by emotional ghost revelations. As for other sorts of cases, I actually am expecting lots of drama ones with heavy emotional reveals from side characters. I could be wrong, but that feels like the route the comic is going. O_O

Comic Tea Party

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 3

13. What are you most looking forward to seeing in regards to the comic?

14. Any final words of encouragement for the comic?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

Ryccomics

1. What did you like about the beginning of the comic? Very good dynamic introduction between Moira and Emery. Very quickly and effectively I understood Emery is an older cynic, and Moira is the energetic and out to prove herself. 2. What has been your favorite moment in the comic (so far)? The magic reveal of what the potions/chemicals do is fun. I do not really understand how they work at this time, and I don’t really need to. 3. Who is your favorite character? Mauretta, she’s a lot of fun in design, and she gets to talk more than usual character type. I’m not sure what this character type would be called, but I’m going with person who starts the Scooby Doo mystery. 4. Which characters do like seeing interact the most? Moira and Emery have good chemistry. Having the young rookie be more powerful than the experienced partners adds to the dynamic. 5. What is something you like about the art? If you have a favorite illustration, please share it!

So much going on in this panel. All 5 characters are doing something. 6. What is a theme you like that the comic explores? I don’t have an answer yet, because how this encounter goes will shape the narrative, everyone could die. It could be resolved peacefully, it could wrap like a monster of the week story, or lead to bigger things. 7. What do you like about the comic’s story or overall related content? I like the map in FAQ area of site is cool. Gives information for those who want it, but can be safely ignored by those that don’t. 8. Overall, what do you think the comic’s strengths are? I like your line art, a lot. The silhouettes read really well. And when working in black and white having distinct shapes is so important, you’ve color code your characters. 9. What do you think Emery did that caused him to be exiled by the Magician Order? How does this factor into his general cynicism and bitterness? Also, do you think Emery will ever be a magician again? I know from the Cast FAQ, he broke their laws, in what contest will tell a lot about Emery and the Order. I am a little unclear what the Magicians are at this points, how powerful they are in this society. Are the Magicians outside of the Magician’s order?

10. How do you think Moira became Emery’s apprentice despite Emery being an ex-magician? Similarly, why do you think Moira hasn’t joined up with the Magician Order? As the story develops, how do you think Moira will grow and change as a magician? I think Moira will have to confront what caused Emery’s cynicism. I expect she will get more powerful as the story begins. 11. Besides following Emery and Moira around, what role do you think Leera will have in the story? How might Leera’s presence hurt or help the duo on each case? Also, how will Leera change as she experiences things firsthand? I Leera’s role will be mainly to ensure the characters get back onto the plot. Most stories have some form of this function, whether it is the Greek gods, a ticking clock to motivate the characters to act right now Given she works for a newspaper, she can prod the characters to do news worthy things. 12. How do you think Moira and Emery will resolve the haunted opera house situation? Can the kidnapped girl be saved, or is she truly gone forever? Additionally, what other sorts of cases do you expect to see after this one? I feel it will have a happy ending, monster defeated girl saved. This is because the character dynamics would change really drastically if Moira had to confront extreme darkness so early, she would get cynical. 13. What are you most looking forward to seeing in regards to the comic? Will be interesting to see how the combat functions with regard to group dynamics, are the other characters going to plan a part in the combat, or are they on the sidelines. 14. Any final words of encouragement for the comic? I was sad when it ended.

RebelVampire

I am looking forward to finding out more about Emery and what Emery is capable of despite the circumstances. As for final words, this is just a lovely comic with tons of unique aspects about it that I really like.

Comic Tea Party

BOOK CLUB END!

Thank you everyone so much for reading and chatting about Devil Tongue this week! Please also give a special thank you to Samuel Soto-Saines and Lucas Soto for volunteering the comic and creating it! If you liked Devil Tongue, make sure to continue to support it via some of the links below!

Read and Comment: https://deviltonguecomic.com/

Devil Tongue’s Story: https://deviltonguecomic.com/store/

Samuel’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/sainezart

Lucas’ Twitter: https://twitter.com/lucaswordcraft

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #book club #bookclub #webcomic bookclub #webcomic book club #comic tea party #ctp #devil tongue #samuel soto-saines #lucas soto

1 note · View note

365daysoftododeku · 5 years ago

Text

2nd August 2019

Author: Kenyoda

Admin’s Note: Another oneshot of @ebonyphd‘s Internet Friends AU! You can read the rest of the series over here!

________________________________________________________________

Unexpected Friends

Shouto had known that this was a bad idea from the moment Natsuo had suggested it. But he was too shy to actually ask Midoriya out on his own, so he leaped at the rather neat solution that his brother had offered at the time. His current partner - a guy this time - had been dying to meet Shouto. Natsuo claimed that Tenko was also a high nerd and that he and Shouto would get along like a house on fire.

Shouto was unconvinced.

The last partner his brother had was a snobby ableist that had also been “dying” to meet Shouto. They had spent the whole date “lamenting” over Shouto’s “misfortune.” They had no idea he could read lips. He had spent the whole time fuming: he was deaf, not dying. They were also super rude to Natsuo. He was quite glad when Natsuo dumped them.

Natsuo had suggested that Shouto and Izuku tag along on his date with his boyfriend to see a movie. That way, if things went well, Shouto could ask him on a real date. Shouto had reluctantly agreed, pretty much because he had no idea what to do otherwise. So here he was now, waiting for Izuku and this ‘Tenko’ to show up. When Tenko made an appearance with a blonde girl that looked like she walked out of a vampire manga, all of Shouto’s alarm bells rang at once.

He, presumably, was dressed in black from literally head to toe. If he did not know any better, Shouto would swear the open jacket they were wearing was from Empire Souls, specifically from Company XIII, one of the main antagonists of the game. Under that there was a black t-shirt with red lettering that said,

The Number of FXXXs I give today:

houto internally snorted at that. This was Natsuo’s boyfriend, huh? This was completely different than his usual dates. They were usually somewhat intelligent, sociable, but ultimately shallow. This guy screamed anti-social. As the two approached, Natsuo grinned. The hood of the jacket was thrown back, revealing white hair and red eyes. A devious smirk was etched into his face, but his eyes softened when they landed on his brother.

“Hey Nats!” greeted the blonde as they came to stand before them. Tenko just gave a halfhearted wave and mumbled something. Natsuo did not seem to be offended - in fact he smiled wider.

“Hey Tenko! Glad to see you made it! How did the competition go?” Natsuo asked as he stepped forward and hugged the shorter man. Shouto blinked in surprise when he hugged him back.

“Good,” was the only thing Shouto could make out from the angle. Suddenly, there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find a bright Izuku bouncing next to him. Shouto couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face. He hugged his friend tightly, Izuku doing the same. It had been nearly 2 years since the two had become friends. They were both in high school, Shouto attending a school for the deaf and blind and Izuku one closer to his home. But they met often at each other’s homes, and they spoke all the time on Unplug. Izuku beamed at him again. Shouto’s heart jolted in response. He had also been pathetically crushing on him for the last year.

Shouto had tried on numerous occasions to tell his friend, but he always lost his nerve at the last minute. What could he offer Izuku? He couldn’t hear him - sure, Izuku never minded that he had to sign when they were together, but he could not expect him to want to do that forever, right? Izuku was clearly popular among his peers, and becoming more popular since his friends encouraged him to start the HeroTube channel to supplement his forum ramblings. He had seen personally that his friend was pleasant and attractive, especially after he bulked up to do a Valor cosplay. Izuku discovered that he loved working out and that Uraraka did too, so they continued. Sometimes Shouto would join them on runs.

Shouto had little to offer in return, so the thought of admitting his crush was a little daunting. Both his siblings had been insisting that he at least attempt to talk to Izuku about it but Shouto refused. He didn’t want to lose the easy friendship he had with the other boy. Izuku was currently rambling to him about some post he found regarding a potential TV serialization for Altered Reality Academia. Izuku’s facial expression turned curious and then he told Shouto that his brother was trying to get his attention.

Shouto turned to see Natsuo and Tenko standing in front of them, Tenko looking a bit curious. Natsuo formally introduced everyone. The vampire girl’s name was Toga Himiko. Then he was introduced to Shimura Tenko. He and his brother apparently met at the hospital where Natsuo was currently doing a hands on internship. Shouto, through Izuku’s helpful translations, asked the teen whether he had ended up there due to the vampire girl and Tenko laughed heartily. Natsuo scowled.

“No. I did not. I am apparently more of a vampire than she claims to be… I am actually allergic to the sun,” he said, surprisingly in sign language. When Shouto must have given him a surprised look, he explained that his sister was Hard of Hearing. Shouto found that it felt a little less weird now. That is, until Toga said that he looked good enough to eat; then he was momentarily afraid for his life. A sneak glance at his friend’s pale face said that Izuku felt the same. Tenko rolled his eyes and assured them that she had already “fed” and that they were safe.

Shouto was still dubious.

“So what are we seeing again?” Natsuo asked his boyfriend, signing for Shouto.

“Sako-chan is debuting his movie at this festival, neh neh— Ten-chan?” Toga said, her lips and curls moving rapidly. Natsuo stumbled translating a bit but Shouto got the idea. Ah, another friend is debuting a movie, huh? Interesting. Apparently, it was part of an independent film festival. It was called DartMan: The Dark Midlife Crisis. It was supposed to be a parody of edgy superhero films.

As the group made their way towards the building, he and Izuku caught up on their week. Shouto told Izuku about his thoughts on becoming a social worker or a lawyer. His friend thought that was an amazing idea and had no doubt that he could pull it off. When Izuku said that, Shouto couldn’t help the flush that washed over his face. He wanted to tell Izuku how much his support meant to him, but he couldn’t begin to form the words. His hands were shaking too bad. So he settled for a probably broken but vocal ‘thank you.’ Izuku beamed back. He then surprised Shouto by saying he was still thinking about what he wanted to do. This was unusual as Izuku had talked about being a comic artist for the longest time.

Izuku had always talked about his want to be the next Yagi Toshinori. His writing was excellent and his art was amazing. Shouto was sure he was a shoo-in for the art school he wanted to go to. It was part of a larger university. What had changed? He had entertained the notion of them going to that very same university together. He had thought that maybe mentioning it would not be a bad way to approach the crush problem. Start simple. After all, most people would probably run the other direction if someone suddenly blurted out that they would ‘dream of kissing them and never leaving their side ever again’ out of nowhere. But Izuku’s change in direction had thrown him.

“Why did you change?” he asked as they stood in line. Izuku looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Well, partially because of my mom and partially because I tried commissions for a while. Sure, it was nice getting the money and I did not mind drawing for people, but suddenly what I loved doing became a chore. I— I don’t want to lose what I love doing for money. So, I have been thinking lately that I should do my art for myself on my own time and find something else to do…” Izuku said, his face clearly saying he was not sure about it. “I still want to go to UA, though. They have good connections,” said the boy with a shrug.

“That doesn’t sound like you, though,” Shouto pointed out immediately. Izuku cringed. Shouto pounced on that, nerves be damned. His friend needed help and Shouto was going to give it. “What is really bothering you? Someone leave nasty messages about your work again?” Shouto asked. Izuku resolutely shook his head, even as he moved forward in line. “Then what is it?”

“My mom was talking with one of the neighbors and they said some things about how I was wasting my potential and that I was such a ‘smart boy’ and that mom was a bad parent for letting me waste my time,” he finally admitted, shoulders slumping. Shouto inwardly seethed. How dare they make Izuku feel bad about what makes him happy?!

“That’s bullshit! You are smart! That is what makes you so good at what you do! You would not be half the analyst you are if you weren’t! Sure, being a comic maker is not the first thing that people would think of for you, but that doesn't mean it's not what you are destined to do. Tell them to go pack sand,” Shouto argued. Izuku laughed, out of shock more than likely.

“Thanks Shouto, I just… I worry that I am not cut out for it… if I am not living up to my potential,” he said, forlorn. Shouto took the distraction to buy their tickets for the movie before Izuku could even protest. He then beckoned his friend to come along. Izuku pouted, saying it was not fair. Shouto just grinned.

“Don’t worry about it, you can pay next time,” he said with a grin, before turning scarlet. Way to be a pretentious ass! he berated himself. He was no better when he caught Izuku sporting a similar shade on his cheeks. Shouto decided to find another distraction. His eyes landed on his brother and Tenko walking together.

It was strange.

He had never seen Natsuo so relaxed around a date before. Most of the time, he was overdressed and drawn as tense as a bow string. Now though he was in a simple polo and a pair of jeans. He was walking with his arm around Tenko’s shoulder as they talked. They quietly laughed at some inside joke as Toga flitted around them all bouncing curls and energy.

He wondered if he and Izuku could ever be close like they were, so secure in their relationship. His eyes cut to Izuku and the boy seemed lost in his own head. But that was Izuku, forever dreaming. A soft smile pulled at his lips. Izuku’s eyes suddenly bugged and he turned red. Shouto was confused at first until he felt Izuku squeeze his hand. Then he felt his face heat.

When had he taken Izuku’s hand?!

But his friend only smiled bashfully as he stared at the floor. He did not let go of his hand. Shouto’s heart kicked in his chest. It was a lovely feeling. Maybe he had a chance after all? Shouto held his hand a little tighter. They settled into line for snacks and Shouto felt eyes on him. He looked up to see Tenko eyeing him as his brother talked with Toga about something. The ethereal looking teen gave him a kind, teasing smile.

‘Nice job,’ he mouthed before eyeing their joined hands then looking at him again. Shouto blushed again, but felt grateful all the same. Tenko had definitely been a nice surprise. The boy was strange and had equally strange friends but so far he had been nice. Far nicer than most people he had met since he had finally started escaping the house. Shouto smiled back and mouthed,

‘Nice jacket. Empire Souls?’

Tenko nodded before mouthing, ‘made it myself.’

Shouto gaped. Okay… maybe Natsuo was right. He was going to have to speak to his boyfriend more… maybe if he plucked up the courage… he could go on a real double date with them in future. That could be fun. He felt a tap on his shoulder.

‘What are you smiling about?’ Izuku mouthed.

‘The jacket is Empire Souls inspired. He made it,’ he mouthed. Izuku’s eyes lit up. He immediately started drilling Tenko for details. Shouto laughed, but he was keenly aware that despite his enthusiasm, Izuku still hadn’t let go of his hand.

_______________________________________________________________

Would you like your work to be featured in the 365 Days of TodoDeku Project? Apply here! (≧∇≦)/

#Story #ebonyphd #TodoDeku #365DaysofTodoDeku #TodoDeku365 #365 Days of TodoDeku #tddk #Shouto Todoroki #Todoroki Shouto #Izuku Midoriya #Midoriya Izuku #Boku no Hero Academia #BNHA #My Hero Academia #MHA #Todoroki x Midoriya #Shouto x Izuku #TodoIzu #long post

32 notes · View notes

ask-de-writer · 5 years ago

Text

LEZON (part 2 of 3), a Science Fiction tale.

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Science Fiction

Lezon

Glen Ten-Eyck (De Writer)

17837 words

written, 2003

//////////////

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fictions is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

Detection failed to answer. She was unconscious. A head wound showed how her primary screen had been broken. Fire control, stanching a cut forearm answered. “Ma’am, it was a pulsed tachyon burst with a signature like none that I have ever heard of. There were seven pulses of ten megatons each, spaced unevenly over a period of less than one second.

“The Talon’s power capsule let go. That’s what caused most of the damage. I spotted the targeting ping and secured the shields. If the Talon had still been at our shield boundary, as it was before I tightened up, we would have been destroyed by the blast. We have retained sufficient fire power to defend ourselves and have no damage to the main engines…”

“I just heard sixty five percent. That sounds like damage to me,” M’ase stated.

“We lost two of the five primary superconductor cables, Ma’am. I talked to engineering just moments ago. Most of the damage in the power room is due to superconductor saturation blast. It will take them about an hour to clear the damage enough to string and cool the replacements. We have full in-system power but lack fine maneuvering capability.”

“Why did you call engineering? Was it about your gun batteries?”

“No Ma’am, I already knew their condition. I was trying to identify the nature of the pulse weapon. They’ve never heard of anything like it before either.”

“I see,” M’ase cocked her head at fire control and asked, “Recommendations?”

“The ragged nature of the pulse spacing is hard on our shielding generators, especially now, with them damaged. Under no circumstance should we get closer to this weapon than 15 C seconds if it can be avoided, until the generator repairs are complete.”

“Good, fire control. Do you have any knowledge of where the shot came from?” asked M’ase, urgently and intensely curious.

“I found that by accident. The blast scar can still be seen in the atmosphere of the nearby gas-giant. I returned fire with all surviving batteries as the tumbling of the ship rotated them to bear. I doubt that I did any damage, Ma’am.”

“Cease fire. I will log a commendation for saving the ship. You may get your first Name from this.”

/////////////////////////////

Below the clouds of methane ammonia and hydrogen, Lezon, true to her determination, had fired her one carefully set up burst and boosted the D’ancer away from the spot as swiftly as she could go. She was maintaining their speed by watching the skin temperature readings, going just slow enough not to burn the ship by friction as she tried to put the bulk of the planet between herself and the enemy. The impact blasts of the return fire from the Hand of Claws could be felt jolting the ship until they got well clear.

She was barely holding her tears, knowing what she had done to those enemies that she had once known so well. Her lifelong training in the Warrior’s Way stood her in good stead.

Lezon had her emotions under control by the time that a dripping wet K’ress joined her. “I went into the tank with the kits until the worst seemed over. What can I do now?”

Lezon looked at K’ress with approval. In spite of all of the shocks and horrors of the day, K’ress stood ready to help. “Activate 14-25 again. I need to know what we did before we jump into their jaws.”

K’ress settled into her crash couch and began to call up information. “You have been busy, haven’t you Lezon? The big ship is tumbling. It looks to be out of control. I can only find one thing that might be a Talon but the computer isn’t sure and flagged it with an uncertainty icon. Here, you take a look.” She put the information on Lezon’s screen while Lezon concentrated on flying the D’ancer like an aircraft in this soup of an atmosphere.

“That was a Talon. It’s destroyed but mostly intact. Give me scale plus one hundred on the Hand of Claws,” Lezon instructed.

She studied the new images for a few moments. “Damaged, not out of action,” she pronounced. “The time to make our break is now, before they get the tumble under control.”

As Lezon’s hands began to dance across the controls, K’ress asked, “What was that funny pounding we felt?”

Lezon absently said, “You mean their return fire?”

“No, we all felt that too,” K’ress said positively. “I mean our salvo. It felt wrong.”

“Lady K’ress,” said Lezon carefully, looking like a kit caught raiding the galley for snacks, “I modified our batteries for more effective fire-power. Each gun now fires a ten megaton pulse that is brief enough that the five kiloton continuous fire provision is observed. We just hit harder for a shorter time.”

“Lezon, is that even legal?”

“As I have read your laws and treaties, yes. The T.C. sealed it as legal. I am sure that Commander M’ase would disagree. She was on the receiving end. That often gives you a different point of view.”

“I see,” said K’ress dryly. “What was it that we did in the power room?”

“Lady, we gave the grav compensator power to the inertial drive. Comfort is a luxury that we cannot afford when it consumes nearly one fourth of all of our power. The Restriction field and primary inertial drive together will energy lock us and prevent us from feeling acceleration changes once we can start them up.

“We need to run now, before they regain control, which they will soon.” Her hands were busy with the engineering controls and the piloting computer. K’ress could see that the routines that Lezon was calling up were ones that would never, could never, be found in a proper Clan ship.

The routines cut too close to the ship’s absolute limits for safety and that was only the beginning. There were alterations being made to the shielding generators’ programming. The Contraction Restriction fields that allowed light to be outpaced lost their safety interlocks. All of the guns in each battery were set to do automatic independent targeting when not directed. Just seeing what the small ship that she had called home might be able to do caused K’ress to shrink inside just a bit and also to be glad that she had the help of somebody like Lezon who knew how to do these things properly.

As Lezon reached for the Restriction field controls, K’ress said in a small voice, “We are still in an atmosphere.”

Lezon just said, “I know that, Lady. There is nothing here to harm.” She touched the activation key.

///////////////////////////

M’ase watched as the damage control workers were replacing the broken detection screens. She fumed a bit, at the loss of long range scanning ability but it would soon be online again.

Damage control was far more concerned with replacing the tachyon radiator in order to restore faster than light capability to the ship. That was nearly done. She had allowed the ship to continue tumbling even though attitude control had been restored. It would deceive her adversary about their true abilities.

In the meantime, fire control was keeping a close eye on the gas-giant with the targeting arrays. The Clan ship was down there somewhere, hidden in the natural tachyon noise of the planet.

Fire control almost yelled, “Found them! They’re breaking out toward the primary!”

M’ase spat a few choice M’cratti curses, while admiring her adversary’s skills, ability and daring. She could see the rising fireball spreading across almost a tenth of the planet’s visible area. When it could rise no further, it sat there, a huge glowing wart on the side of the planet. A glaring point of efficiently fusing hydrogen rose, apparently off center in the wart, due to parallax.

“Fire!” she called, and when nothing happened called again, Fire! They’re getting away!” Finally, seconds after the order, the big disruptors of the Hand of Claws came on line. There was a small puff of vapor from the fleeing ship as it got clear of the salvo. The pilot, acting without orders, was already sounding the maneuvering warnings and stabilizing the ship. Her action had taken the operational battery out of the line of fire, regrettable but necessary, if they were to follow the Clanner.

“Damage analysis,” announced fire control. “We have iron, titanium, copper and rubidium. They lost one of their tachyon radiators.”

The ship began to shake in the irregular lack of pattern already seen in the unusual weapons of the enemy. “They are laying down a very effective suppression fire. Every time that one of our functional batteries comes to bear, they hammer it, preventing us from returning fire. When there is no other target, they concentrate on our shield emitters. They may actually damage us with those guns if we get too close.”

M’ase wrinkled her muzzle in amusement at that. “Little fear of getting too close for a while. I wonder how they pulled off that trick down on the planet? And how they survived it.

“They have the jump on us but we can outrun them in a long chase,” said M’ase in satisfaction. “We got one of their tachyon radiators. If they try going too fast, their Restriction field generators will overload and save us the trouble of destroying them.”

The damage control technician reported, “Long range scanner is back to function, Ma’am. It needs proper calibration before it will be much use for detail work but it will keep us pointed in the right direction and warn us of hazards.”

M’ase absently acknowledged the report and got a new person on the detection console scanners. Her restless pacing brought her behind the pilot. “Pilot, how fast can you get us up to ramjet ignition speed?”

“Less than an hour, Ma’am. Faster, if engineering can finish the cable repairs for the inertial drive. We only have seventy five percent of full power right now.” The pilot was already boosting the Hand of Claws out after the fleeing Clan ship that was making a dive straight for the primary at a crushing acceleration.

“They’re doing a Lezon Dive,” the life support officer observed. “I wonder if they plan to make a powered cometary orbit and come back at us in a classic Lezon attack or if they will leave the system?”

M’ase paced past the new detection officer, pausing to check the quality of the scanner for herself. As the technician had said, it was too inaccurate to tie in to fire control properly. Still, it told a useful story.

“They are going to leave the system,” M’ase observed over the detection officer’s shoulder. “Do you know how I know that?”

This detection officer was young and new to the bridge crew. She desperately wanted to impress the Commander. She called up the observed operational profile of the fleeing ship and its class details along side it. Her eyes widened as she read. Tapping her information screen she said, “This is wrong. They are far out-performing their class limits.” She closed the useless class material and concentrated on the observed data.

“Ma’am I think that I see it. If I read what I see from the targeting array correctly, they used the Restriction field and the ramjet fusion igniter deep in the atmosphere.

“A few thousand tons of the hydrogen in the atmosphere fused when they did that. The detonation was both the fireball that we saw and the launcher that got them up to ramjet speed. They are already up to 0.085 C in a Lezon Dive and accelerating. Assuming that they are using full power to get away from us, they haven’t got enough engine power to pull a cometary that could be used for an attack. Also, the weapons that they have used are too light to attack us successfully. There is no point to a wide orbit that opens them up to our longer range weapons, so they are going to keep right on boosting and leave the system.”

The detection officer shuddered at the thought of someone doing such an insanely risky thing as the method that the Clanner had used to launch itself. Under most circumstances, a pilot would be executed simply for activating a Restriction field in an atmosphere because of the damage it could do to both planet and ship. Firing the ramjet’s fusion igniter in a hydrogen rich atmosphere was only a flavor dip for the snack.

“Well reasoned,” M’ase complimented. “You are a fine Warrior. Find me their possible courses. We are going to lose them against the radiation and tachyon flux of the sun shortly.”

Engineering got the last cable repaired and they achieved ramjet speed in only a little more than a half of an hour. The chase was on.

As the Hand of Claws began to catch up, the stern batteries of the D’ancer began to pour a nearly continuous fire of ten megaton pulses at the shield and Restriction arrays of the pursuing ship.

////////////////////////

K’ress came to, groggily aware that the D’ancer’s guns were firing. She gazed about the control room and saw superficial damage, caused by a massive acceleration, only partly shielded and compensated. They were still accelerating. She could tell that by both the screens and the pressure that held her into her crash couch. Lezon was wasting no power on frills like balancing out the ramjet thrust. The forward view showed the star swelling almost as she watched. She needed to check the course to be sure that they were going to miss it.

The rear view screens were being used for targeting. Lezon was not only alert, she was making constant, minute adjustments to the point of aim. Even at nearly 15 C seconds range, she was still aiming her fire with an accuracy that would have been deadly if her target had been less well shielded.

“Lezon, what happened? This says that we have only been underway for an hour and a half. How did the fusion ramjet get lit? It takes us three hours on inertial drive to get to ramjet speed.”

Lezon did not spare a glance for K’ress, concentrating fiercely on her targeting. She did, however, answer. “Lady K’ress, we have been at ramjet speed since the first one minute and eighty five seconds from launch. What we did back there is the reason why it is against the law to establish a Restriction field in an atmosphere.

“The field, along with our shields, protected us at the same time that it initiated fusion in a dense atmosphere rich in deuterium and tritium. The blast was somewhat larger than I expected but it has damped out. We rode the shock wave of the explosion as a launcher. As soon as we were clear of the atmosphere I started the ramjet. We never needed to use the inertial drive to get up to speed at all.”

K’ress digested the information in silence, studying the screens. “They easily have the power to catch up to us. Their shields seem to be strong. Why are they hanging back?”

Lezon gently bit her tongue before answering. “They have a very good fire control officer and their detection officer is no slouch either. They suspect, and rightly, that I would kill them if they got closer.”

Suddenly, K’ress’s attention was caught by one number in the data on the screens. “Lezon! We are nowhere near C and the Restriction field is already up to point three six! If it hits point seven the overload will blast us out of space for the M’cratti.”

“I am aware of the problem, Lady K’ress. And so are they. That is why they are following us so tightly. They are giving us no chance to repair the one good hit they got. The number three tachyon radiator was destroyed as we went past them while launching from the Gas-giant. Their fire control officer is good, or very lucky. Good, if I know M’ase.”

“Is there anything that we can do about the tachyon radiator, Lezon? I don’t want our kits to die.”

“Lady K’ress, I don’t either. There is something that you can do. I cannot leave my post. In the power room, connect TY-330-rd and TY-331-rd across to the extra connectors on ARS-4-1/7.

“Get the kits out of the exercise tank and have them help you. Put T’cill at the engineering comm to let me know as soon as you have done it. Stay at your posts. There will be more to do after that is finished.”

“Yes, Lezon. We’ll get it done as fast as we can.” She went down the central passage and collected T’cill, T’lass and K’sere from the exercise tank.

In engineering, K’sere was the first to find the TY-330-rd and TY-331-rd cables. Little T’lass scrambled around the cables that had multiple ends and found the ARS-4-1/7. K’ress had the kits hold onto the first of the two cables as she pulled the quick-connect handle. There was a brief spurt of vapor as a little liquid nitrogen in the joint evaporated. The kits took the weight of the cable as it came loose and K’ress guided it to the proper connector and latched it into place.

“Mother K’ress?”

“Yes, K’sere?”

“This is hard work but you and T’cill could do it all by yourselves. Why did Lezon send us all down here?”

“Hold the cable, Little One, while I get the connector loose. There … I think that she sent us all to the best protected part of the ship.”

“I see … push it between these two, Mommy. It will go straight to its connector … Why is she fighting so hard to protect us?”

“T’cass would never allow us to treat her as a slave so she has always been a part of the family. The M’cratt are not supposed to love anybody. It doesn’t mean that they can’t. I think that after she was raised without love, she found it here with us. I believe that she treasures love more for finding it late.”

K’sere considered this information for a moment, brow wrinkled and whiskers twitching with concentration, before changing her line of questions. “Why wouldn’t Mommy,” she swallowed a lump in her throat before saying the name, “T’cass let you treat Lezon like a slave?”

“At the battle of K’stall, T’cass flew a fighter and battled a Talon to a standoff. Neither could gain the advantage needed to destroy the other. T’cass ran out of ammunition and weapon energy. The Talon pilot got into tight formation with her and gave her a M’cratt Warrior’s Salute and signaled that they would fight again if the goddesses permitted. That Talon escorted T’cass back to the safety of Clan territory.

“Later, after the battle at Monafar, T’cass found a wrecked Talon that she thought was the same one that she had fought before, at K’stall. Lezon was in that Talon, alive but seriously injured. T’cass spent all of her war booty and battle pay to heal Lezon and always believed that Lezon was the pilot who had spared her life.”

T’lass entered the conversation as the connector was drawn up tight. “We were talking about Lezon while we were in the tank. We think that since those bad people killed M’rel, Lezon should marry you and become part of the Clan. She’s taken care of us and taught us. We already love her.”

While her kit was talking, K’ress was trying to get the connector to close up. It was resisting. Worse, it was leaking a spray of liquid nitrogen. She released the connector and saw that an O-ring was damaged. She consulted the information etched into the metal of the connector and said, “Get a number thirty seven O-ring. T’cill will know where they are. Run!” K’sere ran and told her sister what was needed. K’ress and T’lass heard the sound of rummaging in a supply locker. T’cill bounded in with the needed O-ring and K’ress quickly fitted it into place. This time, the connector closed up properly.

T’cill called Lezon and told her of the completion of the errand. The response, heard over the unsteady pounding of the stern battery, was, “Good! Now pull the P-12 off of the ARS-4-1/7 and hook it to ID-2. Then everybody get back in the tank except K’ress. I need her up here.”

K’sere spoke for all of the kits when she said, “Lezon, why do we have to ride in the tank? I want to see what’s going on.”

“K’sere, I have sworn to get you safe or die in the attempt. I need all of the power I can get for drives and guns. The tank will shield you from radiation if we have a shield breach and buoyancy will shield you from acceleration changes. It already has.”

The dejected kits were making their way back to the tank when T’cill was hit by inspiration.

“We can set up a projection computer link by the tank and focus it on the ceiling. If we put a comm link beside it, we can communicate with the bridge. It will only take a few minutes! Can we do it, K’ress?”

“If Lezon agrees. We are in her hands, now,” K’ress said, pausing by a comm link. She talked for a few moments and turned beaming to the kits. “She thinks it is a good idea. You have five minutes to set it up before she begins our next maneuvers.”

The kits were gone in a flash to get the equipment and set it up. They reported to the bridge in four minutes that they were ready and in the tank.

K’ress was in her crash couch and waiting, watching as Lezon’s hands danced, constantly updating the instructions to the targeting computer. She spoke, still glued to her screens, “K’ress, we will soon be putting the bulge of the star between us and the Hand of Claws. Already, the accuracy of our fire is suffering from passing through the photosphere. They are trying to close up on us, to follow our turn as tightly as possible and cut us off if they can. I want them to. There is a surprise awaiting them at the end of this dive, I hope.

“On your screen are the figures for the maneuver. You fly the ship and I will handle the guns.”

K’ress looked in awe at the figures. “I had no idea that the D’ancer was capable of doing something like this. I will fly it as you have it. I just noticed that the Restriction field is down to point two, where it belongs, how did we get the tachyon radiator fixed?”

Lezon grinned ferally. “You did that when you routed the field flux cables into the guns. As long as we keep firing, we can hold the field down to safe levels.”

“I see. Ingenious. Do M’cratti ships use that dodge to dump surplus tachyon flux?”

“Not unless they figured it out since the last war. Do you see the Restriction field buildup to point five in the turn?”

“Yes, is that because we will be around the star from them and don’t need to shoot?” asked K’ress, setting up the piloting computer.

“Only partly. That is part of their surprise. We are going to use the engineering maintenance bypasses to shut off the remaining radiators. Then we are going to collapse the field manually on my mark because the computer is programmed against it. When we do, the energy of the field will transfer to every atom of the ship and either we will explode or it will leave us on our new course at about 0.54 C. Then we get the joy of trying to restart the field quickly.”

K’ress said nothing to this. She knew that the maneuver was dangerous and risked severe damage or the destruction to the D’ancer. Certainly, the risks from wrecking the Restriction field generators were less than the risk of staying under the guns of the Hand of Claws. She opened the locked engineering panels and began to set things up.

When she was done, she announced, “It’s set, Lezon. All that you have to do is cut power to the inertial drive and switch it back on.”

////////////////////////////

“Ma’am, I have the Clanner’s likely courses in this blue cone, probability sixty percent, given their speed at the end of the dive as .3 C and the gravitational pull of the star. These courses all add energy by gravitational slingshot principle. The red cone is less likely, being ones in the ship’s observed combined drive energy potential they are graded by shade. The tight yellow cone is where I personally think that they are trying to go. There is a Clan colony at this star, only 32 C years away.” Detection leaned forward to tap her screen with an extended claw at the indicated star.

M’ase looked at detection’s display. She could find no fault with the reasoning. That, in point of fact, was what bothered her.

She placed a hand on detection’s shoulder, a familiarity of high praise for one with a Name to one without. Thoughtfully she advised, “This adversary is as unorthodox as Lezon was. What could she do if she tried something else? Think outside the normal rules. You have seen some of her tactics already. She is not afraid to risk her ship to catch us by surprise.”

Detection tapped her right fang lightly as she thought. Then she began to query the computer’s known facts about small family class Clan ships. Shortly, she began to type information into the computer’s course generation program.

M’ase watched as the new possible courses began to unfold. “What did you assume to produce these?” She asked, amazed by the array of possibles.

“Ma’am, I assumed that they might use the collapse of the Restriction field as a source of energy for changing course. It seemed likely, since she has already used the Restriction field in an unorthodox way.”

M’ase laid a hand on detection’s shoulder for a second time. High praise indeed. She studied the huge array of courses that had opened up and reached several conclusions. “I see three destinations that I would rank as highly probable. What do you think, detection?”

Detection expanded her scales to include the four nearest Clan colonies and studied the result. She felt the hand on her shoulder as a weight of responsibility and trust. She pointed first, then added yellow highlights to make her choices clear. “Any of these colonies are less than six months flight time away. If I were in her place, I would therefore not head for any of them. I would go for this closely spaced trinary system.” She added a white highlight for the course.

Detection heard a slight hiss of breath drawn. M’ase was looking at the display in both delight and dismay. All that she said was, “Brilliant.”

M’ase reached over detection’s shoulder and tapped keys on detection’s console. The display had been sent to the pilot with an order. “Alter course immediately, full power.” To detection, she said, “The star hides her from us. It also hides us from her. If she does do what you have guessed, think deeply on your first Name.”

//////////////////////////

K’ress finished her piloting computer setup and asked, “Why not just head for one of these colonies? The Clan there will protect us and we could make our claim.” She highlighted the four colonies on the screen. “We would come out of the maneuver at nearly 0.7 C if we went in their direction.”

“That is true, my Lady. Unfortunately, we would never arrive. The Hand of Claws is faster than we are. If we went directly for one of the four that you have chosen, they would fall back out of range of our guns and finish their repairs. Then they would catch up and we would have to fight a flock of Talons that know what we can do. We would not survive the encounter.”

Lezon adjusted the scale and highlighted two different courses about the star. “The red course is the one that they will follow if they think to pursue us to the colonies that you have chosen. The yellow one is the one that they will follow if they think to try cutting us off from the trinary suns.”

“Now you have made me very curious about those stars,” stated K’ress. “What is special about them?”

“Education time,” Lezon announced through the computer more cheerfully than she actually felt. “Does anybody see anything about those three stars that is unusual or useful?”

Dubiously, T’lass, the youngest, ventured, “They’re awfully close to each other — only about a C hour apart. That makes them rotate around their center awfully fast. I don’t know how useful that is.”

T’cill suddenly had it. “The space-time curvature around them will be fierce and generated by a three-body problem. It will be impossible for a ship to simply follow us through! The orbits change so quickly that they will have to figure their own course solution and if they miss on which system we are going to, they will lose us for good.”

Lezon beamed approvingly as she continued to pour fire at the oncoming ship. “You remembered your relative frames of reference theory, T’cill. I am proud of you. You too, T’lass. You laid the base of information that T’cill used. You are both right. Snack points.

“Astronomically these stars are only mildly interesting. Tactically, they are M’ase’s worst nightmare. If she falls back out of range to make repairs she can’t catch us before we turn. If she stays close enough to be in range, radiation from our guns will prevent her from repairs to missile launchers and Talon bays.

“The stars are only three weeks flight from here and we can use them for a gravity slingshot to any of these three colonies” Lezon completed her lesson by highlighting their possible destinations.

/////////////////////////

“Commander M’ase, we have lost them against the background of the stellar flux,” detection said calmly. “Just as expected, they appeared to be shaping their orbit to aim for the Clan colony 32 C years off.”

The pilot interposed, jealous at detection’s two touches of familiarity and praise, not to mention the promise of a Name so soon, “It is not too late to pursue. The system that we are shaping for is not even a good hiding place. The gravitational situation is too complex. That’s why close triples never have planets…”

“And big blue stars never have anything but giant planets. Either stony-giants in close or gas-giants further out,” M’ase finished for her.

The pilot laid her ears back in embarrassment. She held to the full power course change thinking to herself, “Following that kit’s advice will lose them for us! The Commander is getting soft.”

Moments later, fire control sounded the action alarms and began trying to track a target crossing their orbit less than two C seconds ahead but moving at over 0.5 C and boosting. She almost had it locked on when it fired first.

The first pulse, just at 140 megatons, was a direct hit over the forward tachyon battery, next to the sensor grid, the second, hit the Restriction field emitter a glancing blow. If the shields had not been up at full strength, the Hand of Claws would have been destroyed. The pilot had just time to chop off drive power as the ship was hurled tumbling off course. The Restriction field was, mercifully, still operational. The long range sensors were out of action and damage reports were coming in from all over the ship. Mostly crew injuries, this time, and one major hull breach forward.

Fire control still had the enemy on her screens but there was nothing that she could do. Her only functional forward battery was a disruptor with a maximum range of only 30 C seconds and easily shielded against at any range over 10 C seconds. The hull breach was all that was left of the only forward tachyon battery that had survived the Talon blast.

The pilot was working carefully to regain control. The moment that they could begin to boost out along the course that the fleeing Clanner was following, she did. It was the course predicted by detection.

M’ase turned to fire control. She had just one word. “How?”

Fire control was studying her records of the chase and had the class information for the enemy up along side it. Her answer was, “I’m not certain but I think that I see how they are doing it. I need a little more analysis time. My previous warning to hang back at least 15 C seconds stands.

“They may have outsmarted themselves this time, though. They have tried to restart their Restriction field. Twice. So far, without success. They are going too fast for it to be easy to do. Starting threshold energy increases with speed.” She showed her fangs in a wide grin.

The pilot put in sourly, “I could collapse our restriction field to boost us after them but the manual says that the maneuver is restricted to emergencies.”

M’ase agreed, “And it’s right, too. I’ve seen ships blow themselves to less than atoms trying that stunt during the last war. They weren’t all ours either. We will pursue by standard means while detection and fire control work together on what that Clanner has.”

As soon as M’ase said it, fire control and detection took it as an order and began to pool their data. M’ase watched in approval as they began to compare information.

Damage control gave her the welcome knowledge that the long range detection array had survived. It would need external work to restore alignment for best accuracy. It had been knocked out when internal safeties had blown from EMP overload. Two to three hours to fix at most. The tachyon battery was a total loss. The shields had stopped all but about a kiloton of the enemy’s attack but that was more than enough. The hull breach had been sealed and efforts shifted to repair of the other forward battery. Six hours should see it back into action.

//////////////////////////////

K’ress tried the Restriction field for the third time and failed to reestablish it again. “Lezon, I can’t get enough threshold power to get the Restriction field up, we are going too fast. What do we do now?” She did not need to add that she could easily see the Hand of Claws finishing her interrupted turn in pursuit.

Lezon could see the screens as well as she could. Better, in fact. Lezon’s lifelong battle training showed her how to analyze what she saw. She found it hard to believe that the small resources at her command had done so much damage to a ship that she knew to be one of the best of her class.

The automatic bombardment programs that she had worked up could handle things for a while. She shifted her screens to share K’ress’s piloting information. The fusion ramjet was working well, adding its minuscule but steady thrust to the D’ancer. It was also adding a huge torrent of power to the collectors and giving the inertial drive the ability to push the ship at nearly three hundred gravities of acceleration. Without the Restriction field, it would all be for nothing.

The Restriction field controlled the contraction in length and increase in mass dictated by Relativity Theory and practice as any physical object approached the speed of light. The faster you go, the shorter you get, the more massive you get, and time slows too. The result is that light speed cannot be exceeded, unless there is some mechanism to interfere with the contraction and mass gain.

The Contraction Restriction field solves that problem by taking the mass increase and converting it to energy. The ship then takes the excess energy from the field and disposes of it through its tachyon radiators. This interruption of the relativity equations prevents the other consequences of approaching or passing the speed of light as well.

There are two serious limitations on the use of the Restriction field. The faster a ship is going, the more mass has to be disposed of to get the field established. This threshold energy increases rapidly with speed. The other restriction is not one of theory, merely engineering. Huge amounts of energy are involved and the best equipment will overload if the field gets too strong. This also imposes practical limits on the speed of ships.

“K’ress, I have looked at the ship’s power budget. Store everything that you can in the power capsule. I am going to cease firing at the Hand of Claws, hopefully, in a fashion that will lead them to believe that we have had a malfunction in the gun battery. Store it all until my mark. That should get us the energy that we need.”

<==Previous ~~ Next==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Science Fiction

#LEZON #Part 2 of 3 #Science Fiction #Written by De Writer

7 notes · View notes

waywardnerd67 · 6 years ago

Text

Fangirl Dreams

Summary: (Y/N)’s favorite time of year has once again come around, but this year at San Diego Comic Con was extra special. Characters: Jensen Ackles, Zachary Levi, Reader Pairing: Jensen x Reader x Zac Warnings: Fluff/Smut Word Count: 3334 A/N: Dedicated to my wifey @dean-winchesters-bacon because she always encourages me to write whatever comes into my pea-brain. As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!

Stepping foot out onto the main street of San Diego Comic Con was an experience like no others. No many how many years (Y/N) had been coming to this particular event she still was overwhelmed with excitement. She felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist holding her tightly.

“This place will always hold a special spot for us.” Her husband, Jensen Ackles whispered pressing his lips just below her ear.

She nodded as they were led inside the special entrance for celebrity guests. They both had a ton of press to do all day Friday and Saturday luckily, they were about to endure it together. Looking around, she found it hard to keep from chuckling as Jensen kept rolling his gorgeous olive eyes.

“He does one freaking comic book movie and he’s everywhere.” He muttered as she playfully smacked his arm.

(Y/N) gave him a pointed look, “It’s not just one movie and you know it. He’s been working hard for this non-stop and you know better than anyone what he has sacrifice for it.”

Jensen’s handsome face soften nodding knowingly, “Yes I do and there would be no way in hell I could have done what he has. That is why this weekend is extra special.”

She smiled brightly kissing his cheek then looked back at the large Shazam poster featuring the third member of their little trio, her boyfriend, Zachary Levi. The story behind how the three of them end up in an open relationship was one of a fangirl’s dreams. She never knew six years ago at that very convention her whole life would change.

San Diego Comic Con – 2013

(Y/N) waited nervously as she stood behind the scenes of the infamous Nerd HQ panel. She had won a contest by making the largest donation for a chance to be backstage meeting all the guests on Nerd HQ throughout the whole weekend. Now, she was not so patiently waiting for the stars of Supernatural to make their way there from the main convention.

“So, how’s been so far?” came a familiar voice from behind her.

(Y/N) turned around to see Zachary Levi standing only a foot away from her checking in with her like he had been all weekend. Even though they had spent a lot of time talking throughout the panels, she was still star struck by him.

“It’s been amazing! Thank you so much for letting me be back here and meeting everyone.” She knew she was gushing but (Y/N) could not help it.

Zac laughed slipping his arm around her shoulders, “Be honest what has been your favorite part so far?” he asked pulling her in close.

She hesitantly wrapped her own around his back the feeling of his lean body beneath her fingers making her knees weak, “Well to be honest I think it’s going to be a tie between getting to meet Jensen Ackles and then being able to meet you.”

He looked down at her with a breathtaking smile, “Honestly meeting you has been the highlight of my weekend. I don’t know if I’ll be able to compete with Jensen though. He’s so dreamy.”

(Y/N) laughed as they called him to go out on stage for the start of the panel. She noticed as he pulled his arm away he ran his hand down to hers squeezing it briefly. After the panel was over, Zac personally brought Jensen and his co-star Jared Padalecki over to her.

“Jensen and Jared, this is the amazing (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She made the largest donation to Operation Smiles in order to hang out back here with me.” He said as both men shook her hand.

She was having trouble remembering how to breath let alone speak to them, “H-Hi, it’s really nice to meet you both.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Now, did you really want to hang out with this nerd all day?” Jensen asked smiling down at her as Zac and Jared were chatting.

She shrugged smirking at him, “Kind of, yes. I am a huge fan of Zac’s but also, I really want to meet you… and Jared, of course.” (Y/N) could feel her cheeks burning as Jensen’s smile spread wider across his face.

Soon, they were being usher to take a picture for the Nerd Machine and then Zac pulled (Y/N) into a photo as well. Jared’s chin was resting on top of her head as Zac and Jensen leaned in both of their lips pressing against her cheeks.

When the weekend was coming to a close and reality was creeping its way back into (Y/N)’s perfect little fangirl world the most unbelievable thing happened. While she was walking back to her hotel, Zachary Levi had called her inviting her out to dinner. Arriving at the little restaurant, she was surprised to find Jensen there as well. That evening turned out to be one that changed her life forever.

San Diego Comic – Present Day

(Y/N) was separating Jensen and Jared as they waited for the next interviewer to come in. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket pulling it out quickly.

“Surprise.” Was all the text said from Zac and she showed Jensen it as he shrugged.

Jared suddenly stood up walking towards the door of the interview room, “What’s going on movie stud!”

(Y/N) felt her heart nearly stop seeing Zac standing there in black fitted jeans, a pastel floral shirt and perfect tan from traveling recently. She could feel her jaw slacked as a husky voice whispered in her ear, “Surprise pretty girl.”

She looked up to see Jensen grinning from ear to ear before going over to greet Zac. That is when she realized that they had set this all up and she could not be more thankful for the two of them. She went over, trying hard not to seem to eager to see Zac. He pulled her into his strong arms holding her tight against his muscular body.

“Hey gorgeous.” He whispered briefly pressing his lips against her neck.

She let out a shaky breath feeling complete within his arms, “I missed you handsome.” She whispered back just before the Entertainment Weekly crew got there.

She found that Zac was interviewing them to get in more press time for his big movie coming out. He specifically requested to interview the three of them stating he was close friends with them all which was not a lie. Jared and his wife, Gen, were part of the small group that knew the truth about their relationship.

“Jensen how is it having your gorgeous wife on the show now? By the way, you’re welcome for that.” Zac said as they all laughed.

She looked up to her husband who was smiling fondly, “First thank you in all seriousness. You can ask (Y/N), I’m constantly giving you credit for us being together. It’s been great having her on set and living up in Vancouver. It’s nearly perfect.”

Zac smirk nodding to let him know he caught what he said. Jensen was right, living in Vancouver had help immensely with the loneliness of not being able to see either of them. However, the time Zac had been filming Shazam nearly tore her heart apart. He rarely got the chance to come back to their home in Austin and she could not go visit him on set.

It was taking everything within her not to go over and sit across his lap. It had been almost eight months since she last saw him between his schedule and hers. (Y/N) was desperately waiting to spend time with him. Thankfully, Jensen and Jared took the bulk of the interview as (Y/N) was lost in her own little world trying not to stare like a fangirl at Zac.

The interview ended when Zac’s movie co-stars crashed it to lead into their interview with Entertainment Weekly. Sadly, Zac could not get away to see her off and overwhelming sadness hit her like a tidal wave. She clenched onto Jensen who directed her off to a small, private hallway. Jared had nodded silently, saying the married couple needed a moment and would do the interview himself.

As soon as it was just her and him, (Y/N) let out the sob burning in her chest. “Shh, I know pretty girl, I know. Just let it all out.” He whispered rubbing her back soothingly.

(Y/N) cried for seemed forever into Jensen’s chest. Once all the sadness had left her chest it was replaced by guilt. “I’m sorry J-Jensen… I have missed him so much but I’m so thankful to have you.”

His hands were on either side of her face as his lips gently kissed hers, “You know you never have to feel guilt for missing either of us. This is not a competition and I know for a fact that he has missed you terribly. It’s breaking his heart to not be with us, but we just need to make it through today.”

She looked up to him with hope warming her body, “Do you mean…” she whispered as he nodded.

“Tonight, we have set it up that it is just the three of us in a hotel suite with dinner and all the snuggles you can handle.” Jensen’s smile was mirroring the one spreading across her own face as she threw her arms around his neck hugging him.

“Thank you.” She said through tears of happiness.

Knowing that she was going to be able to spend the whole evening with both her men made getting through the rest of their press interviews easier. Once they were all done, Jared split from them to go to his own room where Gen was waiting with the kids. (Y/N) was practically skipping down the hall next to Jensen as they made their way towards their suite.

Opening the door, disappointment coursed through her seeing the room empty. “He is trying to get away from the party going on but it’s good press for the movie if he is mingling down there.”

She looked up to Jensen who was sympathetically towards her. (Y/N) smiled pushing up on her toes to kissing him, “Then I guess that means more snuggle time with you, pretty boy.”

(Y/N) and Jensen were both in their pajama bottoms and t-shirts snuggled on the bed together watching a movie on Netflix. His fingers grazing down her arm making her shiver and she snuggled against his firm body even more. She brought her leg over his waist and brushed against the bulge in his sweatpants.

She lifted herself up straddling Jensen’s waist blocking the tv. “Hey, I’m trying to see who gets the girl in the end here.” He joked as she rolled her eyes.

(Y/N) pulled her shirt over her head revealing her bare breasts to him watching as his tongue darted out over his bottom lip, “Still wanna watch the movie?”

“Hell no.” he said clicking the tv off, tossing the remote and sitting up to capture her lips with his.

His arms wrapped around her keeping her in place while her hands went up into his hair. Suddenly, she pulled away from him as their breathing was both heavy, “We should wait for him.”

Jensen began kissing down her neck as his hands went to her waist, “Let’s keep going and then you two can spend some time together.”

She pulled his head up looking directly into his dark olive eyes, “I want to be with you both though… together.”

He smiled kissing her deeply before saying, “I know, and you will, but pretty girl I’ve been able to have you whenever I want for the better part of a year. He deserves a little time with you, just the two of you. Plus, you know I won’t be far away.”

She chuckled remembering Jensen admitting to them one night that he loved watching her and Zac together. (Y/N) slowly rolled her hips against him as he continued his path down her neck. Wet, open mouth kisses trailed down until he reached her breast. The tip of his tongue circling around her nipple slowly.

(Y/N) let out a long sigh as he continued his slow torture over her breast eventually moving to the other one. “Jensen, please…” she moaned needing to feeling more of him.

He rolled her onto her back sitting up to bring her pants and panties down her legs. When he went to leaned down between them she suddenly snapped them shut, “Pants off is the toll you pay to get through the gate.”

Jensen chuckled getting off the bed standing next to it. He knew she loved to watch him strip out of his clothes. As slowly as he dragged his sweatpants and boxers down his bowlegs her own legs split apart for him. (Y/N) sucked in her bottom lip seeing his thick cock freed needing to feel him on her tongue.

Before he could keep her from doing it, she was on all fours on the mattress with her parted lips brushing against his slick tip. “Shit pretty girl, I wanted to take care of you.”

Jensen pushed into her mouth a loud groan escaping his lips making her core clench around nothingness. He was hot and heavy on her tongue just the way she loved him to be. His large hands gathering her hair as he slowly began to thrusted himself in and out of her. His grunts and whimpers filling her ears distracting her from the fact that they were no longer the only ones in the room.

When she felt a long, rough tongue lap over her slick lips her body tensed up for a brief moment. Jensen pulled out of her mouth even though she knew he was painfully close to coming. “About time you join us.” He said as (Y/N) looked over her shoulder.

Just over the curve of her ass she saw dark brown hair with flecks of gray at the sides. Leaning down onto the mattress he licked over her a few more times before smiling at them both, “Sorry I had to literally sneak away to get here. It will be worth getting in trouble tomorrow though.”

Zac stood up unbuttoning his shirt letting it slip down his large arms. (Y/N) looked back to Jensen who was settling into the oversized chair next to the bed. His hand gripping his cock as he nodded for her to turn around.

Rolling onto her back, she watched as Zac pulled the tank top over his head showing off all the hard work he had been doing in the gym seven days a week. His legs were resting against the side of the bed as he trailed one hand down her leg while the other unfastened his belt and pants. His thumb brushed over her throbbing clit making her grasp the sheets beside her.

“Gorgeous, I have missed this view so much.” He whispered rubbing small circles against her mound.

(Y/N) was almost panting as his pants fell down his long legs, “Oh… Zac…” her eyes traveling down the outline of his hard length within his boxer-briefs.

He pulled them down his legs quickly kicking them off to the side. The sight of his hard, long cock had her squirming her body up the bed. As much as she wanted Zac all to herself, seeing Jensen watching her as he stroked his cock slowly had her wanting them both.

(Y/N) knelt on the bed patting the empty side of the bed, “Handsome I need you right here.” She said as a lopsided grin appeared on his lips.

He laid down then (Y/N) straddled his waist. Her hips slowly rubbing her slickness along his length, “Fuck.” He grunted as she leaned down kissing him.

His hands gripped her hips as hers went up into his soft hair tugging at it. Zac lifted her just enough, so she could sink slowly down on his cock. “Oh god!” she whimpered bracing her hands pressed against his chest bracing herself.

That is when she heard Jensen let out a grunt. Looking over his hand was moving swiftly over his length and she pointed to him. “Nuh-uh pretty boy. The only way you’re coming is in me.” She looked down to Zac who was smiling, “You too, handsome. I need both of you now.”

Leaning her chest down against Zac’s, she felt Jensen behind her his hot breath against her skin. Zac was kissing her neck when Jensen tongue lapped over her puckered hole. “Shit.” She breathed out hearing Zac chuckle.

“Again, Jay.” He said as Jensen licked over her repeatedly each time his tongue going in a little deeper than the last.

“Fuck, Jensen please!” she begged clenching around Zac’s cock as he groaned bucking his hips against her. “Holy…” she cried out burying her head into the crook of Zac’s neck.

(Y/N) felt Jensen slowly pushing into her bringing tears to her eyes as his thick cock stretched her. Once he was had a good position they both started thrusting slowly into her. Both men filling her in more ways than she could ever describe. Feeling their toned bodies against hers, hearing them pant and grunt as they hit a steady rhythm together.

Zac lifted her slightly, so he could take her nipple into his mouth suckling and nibbling on it gently. Jensen’s hands were gripping her hips so tightly that she knew there would be bruises the next morning. The coil deep within her winding tighter and tighter as they began to pump into her faster.

“Shit boys… a little harder.” She moaned feeling them both snapping their hips against her.

She was holding onto Zac’s shoulders digging her nails into them as the pounded into her. They were close as they both mumbled incoherently chasing after their release. Jensen was first to slam into her coming grunting her name. She hated feeling him pull out of her. Sitting up, (Y/N) rode Zac hard bouncing on his cock bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

“Right there baby. Fuck, you feel so good. I’m so… fuck!” Zac yelled as she felt him coming deep within her.

Hearing him pushed her over the edge as her body began to shake was the intense pleasure flood it. She was calling out both their names as she felt Jensen’s hands over her breasts. (Y/N) fell against Zac’s body as they both were panting heavily. Jensen laid down on the other side gently stroking her hair.

“Feel better now?” He asked her as she silently nodded.

“Jay, I think we broke her.” Zac joked slipping out of her.

(Y/N) whimpered from the emptiness and tears sprung to her eyes looking down at Zac. “How long?” she whispered.

He pursed his lips together, “Until tomorrow morning then I have to fly out to Japan for more a press junket.”

She could not keep the tears from falling as Zac gently rolled her onto the mattress facing him. His legs entwining with hers as Jensen snuggled against her backside. Zac wiped away the tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

“I know this is hard, but it won’t be forever. I scheduled three weeks for me to be back home in Austin. I made sure you and Jensen would be home for those weeks before you two go back to Vancouver. Plus, I have already cleared it that you’re gonna be my date to the movie premiere.” Her eyes widen with excitement and fear.

She heard Jensen chuckled against the back of her neck, “Don’t worry it is all good. Zac is taking his biggest fan to the premiere is the cover story. Though it will probably spark some rumors because you two always look all googly eyed at one another.”

Zac scoffed, “Looks who talking mister I stare at her in every picture ever taken of you two.”

(Y/N) smiled relaxing between the two men who made all her fangirl dreams come true.

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

My Nerd Herd: @waywardbaby @ladywinchester1967 @akshi8278 @ericaprice2008 @deans-baby-momma @spnbaby-67 @waywardguides @dean-winchesters-bacon @-lovepeacenhope- @destiel745 @carribear31 @srsllydunnodoncare @whimsicalrobots @thisismysecrethappyplace @starstruckzonkoperatorbat @adoptdontshoppets @mrswhozeewhatsis @bella-ca @drakelover78 @imascio08 @pisces-cutie @dwgrl1903 @mannls @the-salty-asian @winchesterprincessbride @xostephanie @superromijn @witch-of-letters @time-travel-bouqet @screechingartisancashbailiff @myinconnelly1 @sister-winchesters99 @thekatherinewinchester @babykalika2001 @maddiepants @tumbler-tidbits @sandlee44 @destielhoneybee @carryonmywaywardcaptain

#waywardnerd67 #one shot #fangirl dreams #jensen ackles fanfiction #zachary levi fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader x zachary levi #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles fluff #zachary levi smut #zachary levi fluff

107 notes · View notes