#Gunpowder Dreams

[shintin]

Chapter 4 of Gunpowder Dreams will cover a huge amount of violence, gore and human trafficking matters. I'm gonna put warnings for the chapter too, but please consider twice before reading it.

So far, it has +16k words. Should I split it into two chapters or just drop the whole bomb at once?

p.s: i know i'm making Vash too dark, but it'll be okay. he'll be okay. we'll be okay. salvation will find him.

[cryptile]

[saym0-0]

arm candy by day winter, rebel singer by night summer

[apple8ees]

mech enjoyers if ur out there. does anyone have that one photo where gptim is like midleap in the air pointing what i think is a gun at someone (probably jonny? i mainly remember tim in the air)

[andi-o-geyser]

do you ever just. think about how in cr1 after Percy went all No Mercy and killed for the second time Vex cornered and slammed him against a wall to confront him and they were implied to be close enough that Sam kept whispering for them to kiss? and they just. left it out of tlovm. rip to the animated show but the og stream had hot girl intimidation tactics and “Look me in the eye, Percy” and “I’m fine. You’ll know if I’m not” “I will”. fucking unmatched. 

[ender-of-the-sender]

So join the Starborne Infantry and serve your cunt-ry

[purgatory-is-life]

Mechtober prompt 16/day 16-dream/nightmare

more brian hurt/comfort because im a fiend and he's blorbo

@mechtober-2024

and on ao3 > Rainbow Chaos Amidst The Empty Void - Reality666Rift999 - The Mechanisms (Band) [Archive of Our Own]

tw; descriptions of corpses, mentioned corpses, nightmares, dreaming about dying, panic, lmk if you want me to tag anything else!!

---

Brian wasn’t sure he’d ever seen so many colors. He wasn’t sure his eyes should be able to register all the colors around him. Carmilla didn’t make his eyes with excessively complicated color cones.

The Colors were overwhelming.

Where was he?

Wherever he was, it was singing and loud. He wandered–wandered? No, that seemed wrong, he was dragged along gently–through The Colors. Around him, people were screaming, and it was blending into the songs of the place.

As he wandered through the place, he was met with the strongest sense of deja vu from the place and the people and the growing number of corpses.

The Bifrost Train, suddenly appeared in his mind. The Ratatosk Express. He was on the Ratatosk. Which meant it was almost definitely getting close to Midgard. He should find a way to warn Marius and Raph and Ivy.

As he came across the engine room, he saw two people who could only be Loki and Sigyn. There was a rotted, charred and corroded corpse that was steadily becoming more and more absorbed by the floors of the singing, rainbow train by the minute. Brian assumed it was what was left of Kvasir.

Loki looked quite similar to Kvasir, charred and skeletal, barely awake and barely breathing as she held on tightly to her wife. Sigyn didn’t look much better, only barely more alive than her wife. She seemed to be the one holding more tightly onto the other.

“I’m sorry, Sigyn,” Loki choked out. “I don’t know how much longer this will last.”

“Never apologize, my love,” Sigyn told her, “we did everything we could. We held on as long as we could.”

“I’ll continue to hold on, this time, my dearest,” Loki said, wheezing with every breath, “no matter what.”

“And I’m never leaving you again. I promise.”

The two embraced, and the yelling train’s song came to a cacophonous uproar, crescendo overwhelming Brian, leaving him dizzy and confused as The Colors swirled angrily around him.

The Song of the rainbow train squeezed around him, screeching at his intrusion, and Brian was pulled somewhere else.

And somewhere else happened to be the Void.

Brian choked and thrashed, screaming soundlessly into empty space.

Never again. He couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t be left in the endless emptiness of the Void again. He could feel the frost creeping in, the Void screamed and his oil-blood froze in his metal veins. He could feel the Void reach in, grab him and hold him tight as it tried to close around him and choke him till Death found him. The Void wanted to take him again.

Brian didn’t want to be choked by the Void again.

Brian couldn’t do this again.

But he would, everything must be found by Death eventually, even them.

Everything Dies, even the Mechanisms.

Brian woke up (restarted? He was always unsure how to refer to his body’s functions) with a whirring gasp and shaking hands.

He was laying in his bed on the Aurora, in his warm room under his warm weighted blanket. He was laying down, flat, on his bed, with no fear or worry of floating away into the Void.

The lighting in his room was dim and Aurora was sleeping, her creaks quiet and infrequent. It must still be the middle of the night cycle. Brian ran a shaky hand through his copper wire hair, holding onto it as he tried to get everything in his head back in order.

He could still hear the Song from the Bifrost, and maybe even a melody for a story that hasn’t been written yet, hadn’t been found by the Mechanisms, but the unfinished Song of the Bifrost was the loudest.

Brian’s hands were still shaking as he sat up, he needed to move. To get his dream out of his head. So that’s what he did, he stood up and left his room to wander around the sleeping starship.

He tried to be quiet, tried to keep his footfalls quiet so he didn’t wake anyone. And technically he succeeded–but when he passed through one of the common areas, he found a half asleep Gunpowder Tim and a clowder of octokittens laying on a couch. Brian paused in the doorway, as Tim jumped and turned his head, eyes zooming in and out on him as he focused.

“Ah, Drumbot,” Gunpowder yawned as he relaxed, resuming his petting of the octokittens. “What’re you up for at this late hour?”

It was wrong to lie, so Brian told Gunpowder the truth. “I had a nightmare. I didn’t want to go back to sleep just yet.”

Gunpowder nodded. He waved him over, and the drumbot walked over to the pile of tentacles and a gangly-gunsman. “I get that. Couldn’t get to sleep either, got too para–” Tim yawned, but continued as if nothing happened, “–paranoid. Wanna cuddle? The octokittens usually like you.”

Brian considered his options, before nodding and climbing into the pile of gangly gunsman and weird slimy fur, and now a brass man. He settled in next to Tim, relaxing in the presence of one of his crewmates.

They wouldn’t go to sleep just yet, both their minds still racing and loud and chaotic, but they could at least relax with each other there and the assurance that, with their crew, they’d be safe. They could take anything on.

So Brian sat on the couch in one of the common rooms of the Aurora with Gunpowder Tim, and a clowder of octokittens.

This was much better than the Void of space. He decided. He wouldn’t trade something like this for eternity.

[soapdi-spencer]

Just woke up from a dream where Gunpowder Tim was non-binary (he/they) and Welsh?

The thing I apparently read was in Welsh too but I don't speak or read Welsh?? So I assumed it was just random Irish gibberish from deep within my subconscious mind but it turns out the only word I can actually remember is waelach, which apparently means worse in fucking WELSH 😭

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Something that most people don't know about you??

At times, I have nonsensical, probably stress-induced dreams.

In total, I've been the murderer approximately three times, endorsed an execution once, was a witness at least twice, and have been chased many more times.

The first murder was shooting some kind of long-barreled gun, perhaps a rifle or something more modern than a bayonet? Who knows? It was vague, and I don't really remember it.

The second was firing an arrow from below at a person descending stairs. The whole dream was very Hunger Games-esque and I had been peering up at my target from a swimming pool set in a ruined patio.

The third time, my murder was unintentional. I tried to help an unknown classmate(?) get unstuck from where he'd been caught under a large stone or snowdrift on the way back to a final exam, before the directions were given, and he just... tumbled down the steep, snow-covered hill? I have no idea what truly happened to him. I think all I had done was tug at his arm. I just ran the rest of the way down, took my seat in time, oddly enough, outdoors, at a table, and was given a paper. I think the prompt my brain came up with, before the hill event, from an earlier part of the dream, was something on environmentalism, or something about conditions shaping a narrative, which made little sense—much different from what the real exam's prompt was. I wanted to wash my hands, so I would stop feeling sticky, and I think I wondered if I had blood on them. A thought I had then or maybe after I woke up was that the prompt wasn't about Lady Macbeth, so why'd all that happen? I also worried over whether I had partly abandoned the poor guy or committed a murder. Yet I don't believe in dream symbolism because it's not fully scientific, and the directions in the dream weren't ever fully explained anyway. In that same dream, I also eavesdropped on someone who might've been my real-life, class dean and some old woman.

The one time I endorsed the murder in a dream, it happened after a whole convoluted, surreal, Coup d'état plot, not even founded in reality. I broke into a library, to catch my foe shortly before they arrived, and asked someone else to get ready. It wasn't just commanding an execution to happen; it was a (magic?) trick I wasn't fully conscious of, despite being the one to ask for it to be set-up and deliver the orders during the all-important moment. A professor in the library, who specialized in firearms, stage tactics, and sleight of hand, fired what seemed to be a blank at the traitor/usurper/criminal. And my criminal got covered in loose, non-compacted, burning gunpowder instead of run through by a bullet. By then, their skin was probably crawling with some sensation of being set aflame—but don't ask me? I couldn't sense that pov. There was nothing gory anyway. But somehow, they tried to shake the powder off, onto me, and I guess I woke up before anything became worse.

In the same execution dream, there were other previous events, and I was a witness to a different murder. That murder was this instance, with cool, Art Deco vibes, wherein, my (non-existent) friend sacrificed themselves for me. I had to lug the corpse through halls and to elevators, and I went up and down multiple times while on the run before I decided to leave the body.

In another dream, what I think was a hanging was visible in the background, but I'm not quite sure about that. It was more of a vague image.

As for the times I've been pursued by figures with unknown intent, one was notably in a labyrinthine place.

Also, to anyone who's read this far: Don't worry. I don't believe I could actually pull off any of these things as I think I’d pass out too soon because I have somewhat weak lungs and not nearly enough athleticism.

[tomorrowillbeyou]

Killinggg myself over this why don't i have perfumes money......

[phoenixwatchesmovies]

What I'm Watching 2023: May

Evil Dead Rise

GAAAAAHHHHH HOLY SHIT I LOVE THIS FRANCHISE! I ended up watching this twice and while I would have loooooooooved more body horror, the story more than delivered in my book. So it's a wash. You know the drill, franchise rant someday, etc.

Gerald's Game

Fun fact, I passed out the first time I watched this. I think it's a trend of mine with Mike Flanagan works to enjoy them exponentially more upon revisiting, because I was middle-of-the-road with this one the first time and got my socks knocked clean off this time. Might have to do a Flanagan ranking thingamajig sometime...

Evil Dead 2

GAAAAAHHHHH HOLY SHIT I LOVE THIS FRANCHISE! Hot take, but this one is my least favorite of the franchise. Don't get me wrong, it's fantastic and you can see where Raimi and Campbell have grown between the original and this. There's a reason why it's most fans top pick.

The Simpsons Movie

It's been almost a decade since the last time I watched this, and it's...actually as good as I remember.

The Babadook

I love this movie more every time I watch it. The performances, the sound design, the practical effects, etc. Different parts hit harder every time, but the same parts always have me bawling.

Scooby-Doo: Mystery, Incorporated

I'm finally watching this after hearing so many good things about it. I don't care how old you are, you are NEVER too old for Scooby Doo.

Requiem For A Dream

By several metrics, this is one of the most unique films I've ever seen. I didn't find it quite as depressing as I've heard it made out to be, but it's still a tough watch. And it certainly sticks with you. I still have the theme stuck in my head.

Doctor Sleep

I'm going to need a bigger post to talk about this movie. It's special. It's devastating. I took it way too personally and I'm still fucked up over it. And if you'll excuse me, I have to go cry about it again.

Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves

This movie is every bit as good as I hoped it would be, and it lived up to the hype. You can't go wrong with it. If you know D&D, it's a fun campaign. If you don't, it's a fun movie. Good humor, great story, excellent cast, practical effects, and I'm pretty sure everything has a payoff. I'd have to watch it again to be sure, but hey, I'm not complaining.

Gunpowder Milkshake

I'm not usually one for straight-up action movies, but this cast was too good to pass up. The script was a little iffy at times, but that's just one tiny nitpick. The rest was a blast. Beautiful sets, badass fight scenes, great soundtrack, and did I mention this cast? 😍

[shintin]

Sneak Peek for Chapter 3 of Gunpowder Dream

Vash stepped toward you, a smirk remaining on his face—just the slightest curl in his lips. Your shoulders sagged back. Finally, your instincts weren't completely thrown off, and you made your first smart move.

“Cat got your tongue, love?”

Briefly, you closed your eyes, feeling goosebumps as his voice washed over you. The sound was as deep as his ocean eyes. Another swallow nearly caused you to choke on the very muscle. As if your tongue had swelled to double its size, you did not know what to do.

“What do you want from me?” you choked out. He prowled towards you. Despite the gallons of fear pumping through your heart valves, your spine tightened and you stayed still. You'd bite him if he got too close.

All thought escaped you as your eyes locked with his. As his thumb brushed your lips, he forced it into your mouth. No shame. No shyness. No, let me buy you a drink first before I play with your tongue with my dirty gloved finger. Astonished by his boldness, you nearly slapped yourself.

"I see you still have a tongue, a poisonous one as well."

It took several seconds for your body to unlock. Before you could think about what you were doing, you pressed your teeth together with all your might, but met no scream of pain.

In confusion, you looked up only to see a satisfaction waving on his face features. Blood pooled in your mouth, a small trail heading straight towards your chin. A gasp escaped you, your eyes widening and snapping back to his. They were devoid of any hint of pain. Not even a glimmer.

The room was quiet. The static of silence was broken only by your heavy panting. A vortex of his presence slowly drained the oxygen from the room, and even from your brain. Maybe that's why you couldn't think straight with him so close to you. The force of the fear coiled tightly around you, turning your body stone.

You were useless. Powerless. The inability to fight raged in your head, your survival instincts told you just to spit his finger out, but your body refused. It wasn't until he did it himself that his bloody hand wrapped around your neck and brought your head close to his. As you felt the essence of his life dripping from his hand, you cringed. Blood crawled down your spine like menacing fingers, staining your skin as if to mark you. Your horror was heightened when he leaned his forehead against yours and pressed his hand around your throat.

With his bitten thumb pressing against your air hole, he forced your chin up further. Your breath stalled at the slightest curl in his lips. There was something intimidating about the act. Something condemning. “You’re a savage one, aren't you?” he murmured, his sinful eyes devouring your face.

[killjoywhatsername]

Hey all! I’m in need of some gas money so I’m selling some of my vinyls on Depop. Ranges from unopened colored Foxboro Hottubs to Green Day singles to other opened and unopened colored vinyls from like Grumpster and Dream Wife

Or if you want to just pitch in a bit:

my cashapp is $badams9810

venmo: Brooke-Adams-52

PayPal: killjoywhatsername

[go-learn-esperanto]

Girl help I've been playing post-cold on repeat again —

[asterisk395]

#you might be right and I don’t like it #dungeon meshi #note: because of his study of them he’s also hysterically good at disarming people w guns #and destroying their weapons in the field #and then he…takes the guns he won (stole) apart and uses the parts to augment his armor? #not sure about analogy for eating here (via tanoraqui)

The thing about Dungeon Meshi is that if you translated it into modern world, the most exact translation to Laios' monster fixation would be having a special interest in guns. Like the society around them looks at the monsters the same way - these things are dangerous and kill people, and if they cannot be eradicated, then the best that can be done is to reduce their numbers and minimise the amount of damage they do, one way or another. And then there's this guy.

Imagine being Mr. "My entire family was gunned down when I was a child and I will do whatever it takes to end gun violence" Kabru, who's heard a lot about this fascinating man who seems smart and competent and knows exactly what he's doing, and when you finally meet him, This Fucking Guy is just like "yeah rip to your family and I don't think it's cool that they kill people but it's so fucking cool how they kill people. Check out how fast this thing can fire 10 000 bullets hard enough to penetrate a human skull."

[strictlyoc]

Colt tag dump

[ ✭ ]

⦑ man with the badge; interactions colt ⦒

⦑ v; like father; like son; main ⦒

⦑ i stand unshaken; colt fc ⦒

⦑ paying a social call; colt headcanon ⦒

⦑ gunpowder & cigar smoke; colt aesthetic ⦒

⦑ blessed are the meek; colt thoughts ⦒

⦑ the american dream; colt likes ⦒