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nuzipilled · 1 month ago

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THE GANGS ALL HERE 🗣️🔥‼️ information below the cut, “B” cast ( Doll, Lizzy, Thad) have not been included yet as they dont have a role in the main story yet. feel free to ask any questions, me and @kylelily123abc4 will do our best to answer them (:

UZI

Uzi is a 21 year old woman with an undergraduate in medical engineering, which she was coaxed into by her parents (Namely Khan). She is incredibly adept and smart and prefers the technicalities of weapons engineering, and majors in art on the side. She would like to do it full time, however her parents insist it’s not a “real job.” She volunteers at the local hospital N, V and J are relocated to from overseas so they can continue inpatient care until they are stable enough to be discharged and resume physio / psychotherapy as outpatients. She meets N during his time there and immediately clicks with him, and eventually begins to visit him on her off hours, and continues to visit him even after her contract ends. They end up establishing a relationship together and, after finding it is much less expensive commuting to school, moves in with N, V, J, Cyn and Tessa in their apartment for the semester.

She spent most of her childhood moving around and being bullied—the most significant moment having been when her first kiss was stolen by someone who only dated her because he was dared to.

Uzi is a big fan of all things anime, edgy humor, hot topic, and nightcore. she’s got the soul of an unabashed 2000s emo girl stuck in the modern day.

Private first class Nate (all his friends call him N) Is a 23 year old man who was fostered from a family in Utah alongside his sister Cyn under Tessa, another childhood friend, and the Elliot family in Melbourne Australia from the ages of 8-18. When of applicable age, he went back to the United States to enlist in the marines and live with Cyn, a former child prodigy who was scouted and given multiple scholarships due to record breaking academics and reflexes on simulator games.

He was severely traumatized during his first deployment overseas along with his other childhood friends, V, and J, after their humvee hit an IED during a routine supply run. All three were critically injured and the sole survivors of their team of 6. He, along with J and V spent a total of 12 hours alone in the desert before they were airlifted to an emergency hospital in germany, then, once stabilized, returned to the states to resume inpatient care in Salem, Oregon.

Despite his honorable discharge and severe ptsd diagnosis, N does his best to remain upbeat and positive, almost to a fault, oftentimes repressing “bad” thoughts or feelings.

He ends up meeting Uzi in the hospital and they form a relationship together, her eventually moving in and living with V, J, Him, Tessa, and Cyn in their flat after they’re discharged from the hospital.

Sergeant Jane (Only preferring J when around close friends) is a 26 year old trans woman who was fostered from an immigrant afghan family under Tessa, another childhood friend, and the Elliot family in Melbourne Australia from the ages of 4-18, having realized she was a woman very early in life. She began socially transitioning at 12, and began HRT as soon as she aged out of the system. She was the first to be involved with the Elliots and was pushed to enlist in the australian military, quickly moving up the ranks to sergeant and was eventually posted in the united states to assist in training other cadets. She was severely traumatized during her second deployment overseas along with her other childhood friends, V, and N after their humvee hit an IED during a routine supply run. All three were critically injured and the sole survivors of their team of 6. she, along with J and V spent a total of 12 hours alone in the desert before they were airlifted to an emergency hospital in germany, then, once stabilized, returned to the states to resume inpatient care in Salem, Oregon.

Having been their squad leader, J often blames herself for the incident, even if she doesn’t talk about it or say anything out loud. J is an ass kisser. She will do anything and everything to succeed and has a Holier Than Thou personality, often very uptight and not about any bullshit. Her relationship with N specifically is horrible, and she harbours lots of jealousy and resentment from their time growing up due to favoritism.

She has a long standing, massive crush on Tessa Elliot, her longtime confidant and friend, though it went unrequited for their entire childhood and into their early adult life, J often being subject to Tessa’s dating endeavours and crushes in the meantime.

Lance Corporal Victoria, (Who prefers to go by V present day) 4-18 who was fostered from a family in Vermont under Tessa, another childhood friend, and the Elliot family in Melbourne Australia from the ages of 8-18. She enlisted in the military alongside J and eventually N, and was transferred to the states to assist in training procedures for new cadets with J.

She was decommissioned during her second deployment overseas along with N and J after their humvee hit an IED during a routine supply run. All three were critically injured and the sole survivors of their team of 6. She took the brunt of the blast, sustaining the most severe wounds and was airlifted to an emergency hospital in germany, then, once stabilized, returned to the states to resume inpatient care in Salem, Oregon.

The doctors operating on her told her she would never walk again--V proved that wrong by walking the next week. It was a miracle—however V simply states it was due to “having that dog in her.”

She is very resilient, but is often grumpy with a dry sense of tone and humor. She used to have feelings for N when they were kids, but it's since faded as they grew and disappeared during their time in active duty. Though despite this, she still cares for him as a friend, even if she rarely shows it.

She is the first to be discharged, having been set up in an apartment downtown by Tessa, who lives with her and eventually is joined by N, J, Cyn, and eventually Uzi. She is a gym rat with a heavy workout regimen that she will make everyone else's problem if its interrupted.

CYN

Cynthia (Who ONLY goes by Cyn present day) is N's little sister. She is still in active duty in the military air-force. She was a child savant who graduated highschool at 14 and college at 18, moving on to become one of the best UAV operators in history, with successful missions reaching into the hundreds. Cyn is autistic and physically disabled, having been born with cerebral palsy, and uses forearm crutches as mobility aids--but make no mistake, she is incredibly intuitive and adept. often knock-kneed and walks with an awkward gate, and speaks with very ‘robotic’ mannerisms. She sometimes struggles to show empathy in a ‘socially normal way’ or have a conversational filter. She has a very dark sense of humor as well, that for those not used to her may find jarring or off putting. Cyn hates being referred to as a child or incompetent because of her appearance or her disability, she will even go to an extent to prove the point that she does not need assistance. Tends to be protective of N, to a lesser but still protective of V and J and much later down the line Uzi becomes a close friend of hers.

In her off time she enjoys painting warhammer figurines, collecting cards and playing video games. She has a very kitsch, macabre sense of interest, often owning eclectic, odd knick knacks and memorabilia, namely a taxidermied wombat she’s affectionately named “Suzie.”

TESSA

Dr Tessa James Elliot is a very talented surgeon working out of a public hospital in Brisbane, Australia, descending from a very rich family. She is N, V and J’s childhood friend and frequently travels to different parts of the world to assist in surgeries or specialist care. Tessa paused all of her work when she learned of their incident overseas, flying to America to personally attend to their care–with some bribery and finagling due to HIPPA not allowing biased treatment. She just cares too much to not do anything. Tessa is a joyful, social butterfly. Excellent bedside manner and a good sense of humor but sometimes comes off as socially awkward. She is J’s lifelong crush despite not being aware of it, having spent some time dating around but nobody ever seems to be the right fit. She often complains about her recent dating endeavors to J much to her chagrin.

Tessa is, for the lack of a better word, weird. Think Cyn with a little more charisma, often not having a conversational filter or saying things out of the blue. She is not disturbed by otherwise off putting things like death, bodily fluids, nudity, gore etc, and has a bit of a dark sense of humor that she portrays very upbeat and positively. She is incredibly smart and adept bookwise, however socially she comes up a bit short.

there is an alternative version of these guys however it is 18+ for nudity. you can see it on bluesky here and twitter here

#murder drones #uzi doorman #serial designation n #serial designation v #serial designation j #md cyn #tessa md #tessa james elliot #murder drones doll #md doll #md lizzy #md thad #murder drones fanart #nuzi #human au #md fanfic #my stuff

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babyleostuff · 5 months ago

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── HOME

✩ THEME: fluff, attempt at humour + a bit of angst mainly due to jungkook being away in the military ✩ PAIRING: idol!jungkook x fem!reader ✩ WORD COUNT: 871

“bam!” you yelled out, “stop scratching the door and come for dinner, baby!”

it was weird to say the least. usually, all you had to do was to pass by the food bowls for bam to be on high alert and ready to be served lunch, tail wagging and ears pointy, but now… he was nowhere near as interested in the 99% meat protein boosters mixed with the whole grain chicken clusters (jungkook loved buying bam all of the funky and fancy food) as he was in the entrance door.

you sighed, as you heard another scratch. “bam,” you said for the twentieth time in the last five minutes, “dinner is ready,” you crouched down, and placed his bowls on the feeder stand. “if you don’t eat it, i will,” you muttered under your nose, and lowered your head to rest it on your lap.

these were the moments when you missed jungkook the most.

as if bam could sense the sudden shift in your mood, he slowly padded over to where you were crouching, his nails tapping against the wooden floors, and nudged you with his snout. “finally changed your mind, hm?” you giggled, scratching your big baby behind his ears. almost as if he could understand your words, he nodded his head excitedly, nearly knocking one of the bowls over.

“okay big boy, let’s calm down and eat.”

but before bam could even get a sniff of his food, a quiet, yet very familiar sound drew your attention back to the entrance door. the doberman didn’t waste a second and started barking like crazy, which did not help your paranoia that something was off. jungkook made sure that bam underwent all the necessary training to avoid situations like this one, and never since you’ve met bam had he acted so chaotic and unlike himself. besides, you couldn’t open the door to your apartment with the code anymore since the touchpad was broken, and the only people with keys were you and your boyfriend.

and jungkook was far away from here, so…

technically bam could protect you and jungkook in case of a break-in, but you didn’t want to be left without a weapon, so you grabbed the nearest candlestick so you could stab the intruder with a half burned candle.

“bam, come here,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

you managed to grab him by his collar just as the intruder slowly opened the door, so much so that you could take a peek at one of the black military boots that was… oddly familiar. then the person threw a large backpack inside. that’s probably where he’d pack all the things he planned on stealing from your home. mhm, over my dead body. the only thing you were ready to give away were jungkook’s underwear - they took way too much space in the closet.

you held onto bam a bit tighter as the intruder grunted, and threw inside another duffel bag. wow, so this was a big heist.

“don’t move!” you shouted out, and raised your hand with the candlestick. “i’m armed and i have a doberman, so if i were you i’d find another place to rob.”

but before you could unleash the beast in the form of a scaredy-cat doberman though, you heard a giggle. and not any giggle.

it was the giggle you fell in love with after hearing it for the first time. it belonged to you best friend, to your one and only love, to your comfort person that you’d look out for in any crowd.

but it was impossible because he wasn't supposed to be home for the next month.

the intruder pushed the door so you could finally take a proper look at the person who was about to rob you. expect for- “hi, baby,” jungkook smiled, and crooked his head in amusement taking in your form.

with a candlestick in your hand, and crouched over the dog holding onto him for dear life, jungkook couldn’t think of a better welcome back home. “it’s good to know the apartment is safe in your arms,” he laughed, as the realisation hit you.

he was there. jungkook was standing right in front of you.

you dropped your makeshift weapon and squealed, quickly making your way over to your boyfriend. “what? why?” you breathed, and threw your hands around his shoulders, that seemed even wider now. as much as you hated being away from him, god - he looked hot as fuck in the uniform. “what are you doing here?” you finally managed to ask.

jungkook circled one of his strong arms around your waist, keeping your feet off the ground, and cupped your cheek with his other hand, stroking it gently. “you’re really here, aren’t you?” you slowly pulled the cap off his head to get a better look at him, and ran your hair through the short, black strands that were sticking in all different directions. the scar on his cheek, the mole under his lips, the doe eyes.

“i am,” he smiled. jungkook didn’t have to say how much he had missed you - you could see it all in his eyes, and that meant more than a thousand words.

#bts #bts army #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #bts imagines #bts reactions

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drabblesandimagines · 10 months ago

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Dove (part seven)

Leon Kennedy x female reader (bodyguard trope and the slowest, slow burn I swear)

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six. Part seven.

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A tense knot has formed right between Leon’s shoulder blades – can feel it pull when he tilts his head side to side, but it doesn’t seem to be loosening. Can’t even blame it on sleeping on the sofa cos he hasn’t laid down to sleep since the call with Hunnigan, stays sat up right. He’s athletic, he can jump up to his feet from horizontal but it’ll add a second or so to his reaction time and he’s not taking the risk.

He's on edge and he doesn’t like it. The ball of anxiety in his gut has saved his life more times than he can count, but it shouldn’t be necessary in this situation, should it? He’s set up in a safe house, literally off some beaten track in the middle of nowhere – location chosen and distributed by encrypted software so, technically, no-one in the DSO knows where he is either. It’s rigged up to the heavens with security measures - cameras, alarm systems, motion detector - explosion-proof windows, reinforced doors, all topped off with his favourite array of weapons in the duffel bag, currently resting by his still booted feet.

The objective of his mission hasn’t changed after the intel he’s received, that some foreign agency has had access to the CCTV feed for who knows how many hours before they were cut off. He should feel reassured that the quality of the footage was awful – it was only by how many times he’s encountered Lickers that he could even tell that’s what the creatures were when he’d be presented with the grainy images. He didn’t see the footage of you being rescued, but it would be a cruel kick in the gut to find that feed had been HD.

He lifts an arm – his left, keeping his right arm free, his accuracy is better by millimetres with his right – and rubs the knot, hoping to relieve the tension. It's not 100% confirmed they are looking or will be looking for you either, but why would anyone link up to the CCTV circuit if not to check on the outcome of their operation?

His immediate thought had been to up the frequency of his perimeter checks, one every two hours. He could do that at night, sure – military training taught him the correct and most efficient techniques to power nap – but in the day it would be harder without worrying you about what’s changed.

You wanted updates. Hell, you were entitled to updates. But he wants to give you good news, doesn’t wanna add to the weight on your shoulders with what could be nothing. It’s stupid, he knows it’s stupid, but in these sweet domestic moments the two of you have been sharing, he’s been pretending it’s something else – friends watching television, cooking a meal together – the sweet smiles the two of you exchange, but it’s all ripped apart the moment he has to do his checks. He can see the worry settle on your face then, a reminder of where you are with the flick of the safety off his gun and the twist of the lock as he goes outside to conduct surveillance.

Speaking of, his phone beeps for his next circuit on the building and he’s up on his feet in the blink of an eye. He pats his cargo pocket out of habit for the keys on the walk over to the garage door, but finds himself pausing outside your bedroom, his eyes focusing on the handle. You should still be pretty under with those sleeping pills – note to self, he’ll need to start weening you off them from now on, far too easy to get addicted. It wouldn’t hurt to just… check you were okay, would it?

No – that’s what you’re here, why he’s here – to protect you.

It would just be doing his job.

He presses down on the handle and slowly opens the door, breath caught in his throat. It takes his eyes a moment to adjust to the dark, the lamp in the living room not quite reaching as far as your bed, but eventually he can make out your face – as peaceful as he’s ever seen it.

You’re on your side. The position doesn’t look like it would be comfortable with your arm still strapped up in the sling, but it’s testimony to how well the sleeping pills are working. Your other arm is up by your face, hand clenched in a tight fist around something. He steps forward without thinking, curious what it could be.

Your fingers are gripped tightly around his watch.

And there’s a pain in his chest that feels like they’re gripped around his heart as well.

That settles it - he’s not gonna tell you about the hacked CCTV feed. He will tell you that Hunnigan hasn’t searched your place yet, that they’ve restarted the surveillance department – she’d asked him to ask you if you knew anything about the servers since they were appeared to be working from square one – but that was it.

Leon steps back with unnecessary caution, leaving the bedroom as silently as he entered and shuts the door with a soft click. He takes a deep breath, pats down his pockets again and heads out to circle the perimeter.

And, just like after you kissed his cheek, he does it twice.

You wake up after another peaceful and dreamless sleep, though it still takes a moment to remember where you are as you stare up at the unfamiliar ceiling. You wonder if tomorrow you’ll not experience that flicker of panic, just get up and accept that you’ll be picking today’s outfit out of a selection of clothes that you’re not sure if anyone’s worn before you.

You feel sore, as seems to be becoming the norm, but with unusually stiff fingers on your good hand. It seems you’ve clutched Leon’s watch all night. You’d fallen asleep quite quickly – all thanks to those sleeping pills – but you remember looking at it when you’d first got in the bed, the seconds ticking by lulling you to sleep. The fact that you’ve held it for so long reminds you of when you were a kid and snuggled up with a stuffed toy for comfort, except instead of something soft and cuddly, it’s what appears to be a top of line timepiece. There’s a lot of information contained on the face of the dial but there’s the time is the only one you really care about – 0906.

You get to your feet, raising your good arm to a grunt of protest as you try and run your fingers through your hair in lieu of a mirror. Huh, that pain’s new. Your hair is definitely due a wash now, but that’s an issue for later. You pull on a pair of sweatpants one-handed – you’ll be a pro soon, you’re sure of it – and put Leon’s watch in the pocket for safekeeping. It’d be difficult to try and navigate the door handle with it still gripped in your good hand and you’d hate to scratch it up.

You open the door cautiously – you hadn’t seen Leon asleep yet, but he must do at some point. Maybe you should offer to alternate the sofa and the bed? Though you have a feeling that he’s far too much of a gentleman to accept.

Or there’ll be something in the rules that prohibits that.

There’s no danger of waking him though - the agent in question is performing sit-ups in the middle of the living room floor, facing the other way. Muscular arms behind his head as he lets out little puffs of exertion at the exercise, alternating sides as he twists.

Wary that you don’t want to be caught staring, you shut the door with more force than necessary behind you and greet him with a smile when he looks over his shoulder.

“Morning, Leon.”

“Dove!” He doesn’t even sound out of breath. “Morning. Sleep okay?” He jumps up to his feet before taking a couple of steps over in your direction. There’s a grin on his face at the sight of you – makes you feel giddy.

“Yeah, thanks. How about you?”

“That’s good. Yeah, I slept fine.” He nods. It’s not a lie – he did sleep fine for the position he forced himself to maintain all night, despite the slight crick in his neck.

“Is that how you usually start your mornings?”

One of the arms you’d been admiring goes up to rub the back of his head again. “Kinda. I usually go for a run, but…”

“But you can’t leave me on my own.” You finish, smile dropping a little. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be - I’m not.” He drops his arm back down, casting an eye over a watch that’s not there. “Hey, you hungry? I can get breakfast started. Oatmeal again?”

“Sure.” You nod, fishing his watch out of your pocket and holding it out to him. “Thanks again for this. It was nice to wake up and know the time this morning.”

“Don’t mention it. You can, er, you know, keep it. If you like.” He can’t get the image of you fast asleep last night, clutching it close to your face. He knows it was most likely the sleeping pills meaning you’d just passed out with it in your hand more than anything deeper, but, hey, a guy can pretend.

“I’ll be okay, I can get the time off the TV during the day.” You hold it out again with insistence. “But maybe… maybe I could have it for the night again?”

“Deal.” Leon hastily agrees, his fingers brushing yours as he takes back the watch before fastening it around his wrist. “Breakfast coming right up.”

You take the opportunity to duck into the bathroom as he heads towards the kitchen – your heart warmed once more by the sight of the blob of toothpaste sat ready and waiting on your toothbrush.

“And, finally, oatmeal.” He places it down on the coffee table, alongside your coffee, a glass of water and your morning dose of painkillers.

“Thank you.” You lean forward to pick up the spoon, smiling back at the face that Leon’s drizzled in honey atop your breakfast again.

“Nah, pleasure’s all mine.” He calls over his shoulder as he picks up his own bowl from the kitchen. He hesitates for a second, before choosing to sit the other end of the sofa to you, rather than the opposite one.

“You know, I don’t get to do this very often. It’s nice.”

“Mm,” you swallow a spoonful of oatmeal. “Thought you said you’d been in lots of safe houses.”

“A fair amount. But, no, not that part. I mean, eating breakfast with someone.” “So…” You stir the spoon around the bowl, hoping it might prove a perfect segway into something you’d been wondering. “..there’s no-one at home for you?”

“Me?” He seems to scoff at the idea. “Nope.”

“Me neither.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He replies casually, before his blue eyes widen in alarm at how it might come across. “

“I mean, just by the fact that you hadn’t mentioned anyone at your apartment that morning and you hadn’t asked any of those sorta questions, you know, if they’d been told about what happened, where you are...”

He’s flustered, feels like he’s really putting his foot in his mouth this morning. He can take the lead in the interrogation of some of the world’s most despicable humans, for goodness’ sake, he should be able to talk to a pretty girl.

“Yeah, I figured.” You tease back and he swears he feels the weight lift off his shoulders.

The two of you eat in silence for a moment when curiosity gets the better of you. “So, you didn’t eat breakfast with the… others?”

“Nope.” His tone is firm as he recalls some of his previous charges. “Certainly didn’t make them it either. Trust me – they were nowhere near as nice or as deserving of my protection as you are, Dove.” The comment makes your head tingle.

“It’s all been people ‘realising’ how deep they’d sank but only grew a conscience to save their own skin. Hell, you might have even performed surveillance on some of them. A lot of criminals finally show backbone when they realise their time is running out.”

“Well, I’m glad to make a change – both for sharing breakfast and …safe house occupancy with.”

“A nice change,” he mumbles, but you still hear.

After breakfast, you go to shower and Leon sets himself to task with the dishes once again, says he did his last perimeter check before nine. Removing the sling proves trickier than yesterday – when you go to tug off the Velcro your opposite shoulder smarts with a similar pain of that morning, causing you to hiss through your teeth, something which the painkillers from breakfast don’t seem to have alleviated.

You step into the cubicle after undressing – the hot water immediately somewhat soothing on your bruised shoulders but you still struggle to get what you now deem as your good arm high enough to even entertain the possibility of washing your hair.

You try and avoid your reflection in the mirror when you dress, though you know you’ll have to confront your hair at some point. Unfortunately, you catch a glimpse – a greasy mop sat upon your head that makes your heart sink.

There must be a trick to it – other people must wash their hair one-handed all the time, but maybe they can lift an arm above their head. If you were home, you’d go to a salon, you think – an expensive you would deem necessary for your sanity.

A thought flashes across your mind – a ridiculous one. Leon is already doing so much for you, surely this would be completely over the line.

But you could… ask, couldn’t you? The worst he could do was say no, it would be awkward, and maybe there’s a hat in the duffel bag you’ve yet to discover.

You open the bathroom door, but don’t make to step over the threshold. Leon looks over from the sofa – dishes now drying in the rack besides the sink - and clocks your hesitation.

“Need a hand with the sling?”

Are you really going to ask him this?

You’ll break at some point - you know you will, so why not get it over with now? You’re a regimented two-day wash kinda girl and it’s day three. Not to be completely vain, but you’re covered with bruises and cuts, dressed in less than flattering clothes that aren’t yours and it would be nice to feel somewhat decent about something in your appearance.

Especially with the handsome company you’re keeping. Hell, Leon could be a model, a hair model too. There’d been shampoo and conditioner in the shower and you certainly hadn’t used it.

“Dove?” You’ve taken too long to reply again, getting stuck in your spiralling thoughts.

“I know this isn’t what you’re here for.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can think further.

“Okay…” Leon's eyebrow is raised, a curious smile now fixed on his lips as he gets to his feet.

“And say no, obviously. Please. Just… I’d like to wash my hair.” You drop your eyes then – maybe it’ll be easier if you talk to your feet rather staring into his kind eyes?

"Right."

“And I’d… You know, I’d go to a salon and get it done there if we weren’t… here.”

“You’d like me to help you wash your hair?” There’s a tone of amusement or maybe disbelief in his tone.

Hearing him say it aloud makes you doubt the entire exercise, your heart begin to pound at your stupidity. “Sorry. No, I don’t know what I was thinking. It was stupid to ask-“

“Hey, no, it makes sense.” He soothes, immediately wanting to ease your frustrations. “You can’t lift your arm above your head, right? My fault for not thinking about that.”

You look up then, seeing the sincerity on his face – like it truly was his fault that you couldn’t wash your own damn hair.

“I can do that, Dove. I don’t see why not.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mm-hm. As you said, if you were anywhere else right now, you could go to a salon and whilst I can’t promise their quality, I seem to do all right with my own.” He shrugs. “You thinking over the sink?”

He doesn’t know why he asks – it’s hardly like you’re going to ask him to get in the shower with you.

Is it?

“I think so.” You look around the living area, though you’re well acquainted with what feels like every square inch of it now. “Though it might be a little awkward since we don’t have any chairs.”

He snaps his fingers. “Nah, there might be one in the garage, actually. Lemme check.”

He barely makes it into the garage when his cell vibrates in his pocket – one new message from Hunnigan.

Any server information for me?

Leon finds the folding chair nestled at the side of the washer and dryer and hesitates over the text back.

He’ll wash your hair – seeing how torn up you’d been about even asking him had made him feel awful - then he’ll give you the updates and ask about the servers.

He picks up the chair and tucks it under one arm, swiftly typing out a message on his cell and clicks send.

Not yet – Dove’s still asleep.

---

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!

Part eight.

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

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sonic-fankid-showdown · 7 months ago

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Poll 12, Round 1.

About Stellar: (by @emthimofnight) The product of Project Stellar—a secret government operation aiming to perfect Project Shadow—Stellar is a genetic experiment combining the DNA of the Ultimate Life Form and the fastest thing alive. Designed to be a living weapon, Stellar was born in a hidden facility where she would have been raised to be an unstoppable weapon for the military. Thankfully, Shadow the Hedgehog (with help from Rouge the Bat) discovered her existence, destroyed the lab, and rescued her as an infant. Shadow then went on to begrudgingly inform his long-time rival, Sonic the Hedgehog, of their newfound child, seeing as she was technically just as much Sonic's problem as she was Shadow's. From there, the duo (along with help from their friends) raised Stellar as their daughter, sheltering her from the knowledge she was created to be a force of destruction for her masters. Along the way, Sonic and Shadow found themselves truly falling for one another, dissolving the barriers they had placed between one another as rivals, finding new appreciation for each other in their new parental roles. Stellar herself is a bright, warm-hearted person. She has a strong sense of justice and never shies away from standing up for what is right. She takes after Sonic in personality, always cracking jokes and finding it hard to sit still. Despite this, she inherited Shadow's finesse and ability to plan out her choices, not to mention his abilities to utilize chaos energy. She has a love for figure skating, ballet, and make up (thanks to Auntie Rouge!), but don't let her feminine side fool you, she is not afraid to get her hands dirty! She would love nothing more than to spend her day smashing badniks into the ground with her skates if her dads would let her! Stellar loves both of her parents dearly, but sometimes wishes that they wouldn't be so protective of her. After all, what could they possibly have to be worried about?

About Rapidfire-Harley Davidson: (by @confused-bagel) Just a regular hedgehog that was found as a hoglet in the woods by Sonic and Shadow. They took him in after being reminded of their own pasts of being lost and forgotten. They went back and forth on names for hours until they agreed that Rapidfire-Harley Davidson was the coolest name. He doesn’t have any special powers but he can still melt your heart!

#Stellar the Hedgehog #Rapidfire-Harley Davidson #sonic fanchild #sonic fankid #sonic fankid showdown #sonic oc #sonic the hedgehog #sth #round 1 #sfs 1

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lokicraft · 6 months ago

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Self indulgent idea about task force 141 rescuing a wrongly-kidnapped scientist/researcher reader. Gender neutral reader, implied American reader implied violence and torture, implications about the reader looking young (I imagine the reader being between 20 and 30 years old). I see it as future tf141xreader, but feel free to imagine otherwise and/or take this idea and run with it as you please. MDNI.

————

Imagine you are a government researcher. Technically a government employee but you are pretty low on the ladder, just starting out at a research laboratory on a small military base. You are so excited to start working with your supervisor/PI, a very influential scientist who has their fingers in a lot of research pies (some more secret than others).

But you have nothing to do with the secret stuff. You’re more interested in environmental research (of which the military does have to pay at least a little bit of attention to, so you work with what you get).

You’re getting out of the lab late one evening, having to stay even after your PI left to clean glassware (your least favorite task). You lock the door to the research building and walk to your car, only to see someone else parked next to you. The hood of their car is open and they look distressed. You don’t recognize them but it’s not like you know everyone on base. So when they ask you for a jump start you agree and start rooting around your car to pop the hood. You just got your hand around that pesky lever when you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head and everything goes dark.

————

You wake up in a dingy concrete room with your arms and legs tied to an equally dingy chair. You are shocked, panicking and in pain, but through the ringing in your ears you hear shouting from outside the room.

“What do you mean that’s not Dr. Scaffer?” An angry accented voice shouts.

“It was bad intel!” Another voice insists, same accent as far as your fuzzy brain can register, “we did not get any physical description, only that they would be the last one out!”

“A head research scientist with top secret clearance won’t look like a kid who just got out of college!” You hear a muffled bang - your heart stops beating in your chest - but the voice continues, dismissive, “I have to do everything myself.”

He enters the room.

————

Two hours later, not that you can really keep track, you are left alone again. Significantly more injured from what you just went through (your brain cannot even ponder the word “torture” through the unceasing static of your thoughts), you realize that you are going to die. Whoever kidnapped you grabbed the wrong person, and unless they want to know about the water quality of the watershed around base you don’t have any information they want. You are no use as a hostage, and you are going to die. You can only hope it will be quick and painless—

You can’t breathe, you were never good at handling stress.

At least when you’re unconscious it doesn’t hurt anymore.

————

Recovering VIPs is well within their capabilities, Gaz thought to himself as he recounted the brief they were given a short two hours ago. But usually if it was a researcher they were rescuing then their area of expertise would be weapons technology, or infectious diseases, or something that’s not water chemistry. It’s not his job to judge, it’s his job to get you back home where you belong. However the judgmental voice in the back of his mind can’t help but kick in, remembering the profile photo they were provided of you.

“They’re quite a cutie, no?”

Gaz is knocked out of his thoughts when Soap catches up to him, both fully geared up and heading to airstrip. Wheels up is in 15 minutes, and Gaz is sure their Captain and Lieutenant are already in the transport. While Ghost is probably just sitting and “brooding” as Gaz likes to call it, he gives Price a 50/50 on being on the phone with Laswell. Their Captain probably wants to know how a young researcher got kidnapped from an American military base only to end up as a hostage in Russia. Hell, Laswell probably wants to know that too.

“Time ta go save us a bonnie researcher!” Soap proclaims picking up the pace and rushing in front of Gaz. It’s obvious Johnny shares the same thoughts as Kyle when it comes to your appearance, only one is better at keeping those thoughts to themselves.

“Yeah let’s make sure we get them back alive” Gaz responds, his sharp mind working overtime to calculate how long your captors will keep you alive once realizing you are not a spring of top secret information nor a high profile bargaining chip.

“Of course we will mate,” Soap declares, his sober tone almost catching Gaz off guard, “with LT back on the roster we’re at full strength again, n’one left behind.”

Gaz agrees with the sentiment, and taps Soap on the chest lightly as they approach the transport.

“No one left behind”

————

Thanks so much for reading, this is my first time writing something like this so I’m still trying to get the character’s ‘voices’ right and all that. If you decide to build off this idea please tag me! I appreciate y’all 💚

#cod mwii #task force 141 #tf 141 x reader #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #fic idea #text post #LC writes

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lets-try-some-writing · 19 days ago

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What’s your thoughts visually on how bots habsuites/ quarters look like? And would they differ between frame types ? As prime big lol Wish we got some media on it :0

Hmm well I do imagine things would differ wildly between each continuity. However, some generalizations might be the following:

Autobots as a whole: Generally speaking, I do imagine the Autobots have habs that match their size and their rank. Rank and file soldiers are bunked together in rooms filled with recharging stations crammed shoulder to shoulder. Most don't mind since they are all together and it's not as if they have anything of their own anyway more often than not. Those further up the chain of command get rooms with less people in them until they finally get a roommate or possibly, if they are super duper special, their very own closet sized space. Actual berths are reserved for those with rooms big enough for them. Most just use recharging stations since it's generally more useful to making the most of a space.

Rank and file soldiers: The average soldier is bunked shoulder to shoulder with his or her comrades. They are each given a standing recharge station boxed right up against everyone else's unless they have an injury which warrants the usage of the handful of berths given to soldiers lower on the chain of command. Generally, such soldiers are kept in huge facilities meant to keep everyone safe and secure rather than comfort them. As such, decoration simply does not happen unless the military position a soldier is stationed at is more permanent. In which case, the soldier might paint their station with odd doodles, splotches of color, or if they are lucky enough to find some, they might slap some stickers on it.

Company commanders and the like: Directly above regular soldiers, various commanders of lower rank get bunked together as well, but they are given a tad more room. This is not a privilege as one might expect, but an actual necessity. Commanders can get called on at any time, and each of them need a little more room to work on reports and whatnot since there simply is not enough space to give each of them an office of their own. As such, their stations are a little farther apart, and between them are their personal effects and maybe something to play the part of a makeshift desk if need be. Decoration is the same as regular soldiers, with the possible addition of medallions, the odd set of fairy lights if one gets lucky, or even a poster or two.

Lieutenants and up: Now this is when a bot would start getting their own space, kind of. Bots of this rank are still bunked with a buddy or two, but they are actually issued rooms in order to supply them with the privacy needed to handle sensitive data. They also get actual berths (which can and often do double as desks). Getting a room means a bot can do almost whatever they like to decorate so long as it sort of aligns with military orders. Most often, lieutenants and the like decorate with weapons on the walls, trophies, artwork, or even murals. It depends on his strict the command center is.

Generals and Prime's Inner Circle: Inner circle bots get privileges, and one of those is a private room. A bot can do whatever the heck they want with their space so long as it doesn't disrupt workflow and the like. Decoration depends entirely on whoever owns the hab. In the case of Ultra Magnus, he lives in a mountain of datapads. Ratchet keeps mementos but will die before admitting it. Jazz has what few instruments he's managed to save. Ironhide decked his room with weapons... the list goes on. There are no limits for the most part. Comes with being constantly under threat of being assassinated.

Prime: Technically, he should be living in a high end facility, never to dirty his digits. But because this is Optimus Prime, he tends to wander. He rests wherever there is a free space and will gladly rest with the soldiers without a worry in the world. The only reason he has a hab at all is for the sake of morale amongst the troops. Although more often than not, it doubles as an extra room for injured troops in need of protection.

Not sure if this is what you wanted anon, but these are my thoughts!

#transformers #maccadam #optimus prime #ratchet #ultra magnus #ironhide #jazz #cybertronian culture

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drunkenskunk · 9 months ago

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So I've been playing a lot of Helldivers II, and it's really fun!

(at least, it is when the servers are working lmao)

However: there is one thing about the game that annoys me. It's the same thing that always annoys me whenever drop pods are mentioned in science fiction.

Nobody ever seems to get them right!

Whenever drop pods show up, they always seem to depict each pod as a single projectile rocketing towards the surface of a planet, usually behind enemy lines. They're the logical sci fi evolution of airborne infantry dropping in by parachute, because a lot of military sci fi tropes have trouble moving past WWII. And, y'know, that's fine. That's not the issue I have.

The issue is the single projectile part.

It's almost like every writer who includes drop pods forget that anti-aircraft weapons and SAM sites are currently a thing in the real world and would almost certainly still exist and be better in the science fiction space future. Those drop pods rocketing towards the surface would present the juiciest targets imaginable and would almost certainly get shot out of the sky before they even got close to impacting on the surface.

Annoyingly, the only sci fi that I know of to ever get drop pods right is the first one to ever do it: the Starship Troopers novel by Robert Heinlein.

Now, say what you will about Heinlein - and I do, quite often. For the most part, he's not that great of a writer, and his politics are terrible. The man was an asshole who loved writing wet farts of fascist porn, and the novel absolutely pales in comparison to Paul Verhoeven's 1998 masterpiece of satire, where he took one look at the book, rolled his eyes, and started making jerk-off motions.

But when I first read the novel when I was, like, 6 years old, I was a dumbass child and didn't notice (or care) about the... I mean, I'd call it "fascist subtext" except that it's literally just The Text. No, what drew me in was the one singular thing Heinlein was actually good at writing: technical sequences, written from an in-universe lens.

The way he described how the drop pods actually work in the first few pages of the novel - and, more importantly, how they don't immediately get shot out of the sky - is great! It makes sense, it's easy to understand (because Johnny Rico is, let's be honest: an idiot, he's not going to give you a complicated explanation), and it fills in a plot hole you never realized was there.

For as many faults as the man had as both a writer and a human being, and for all the many problems the rest of the book has, that first chapter - and specifically the drop pod sequence - is a great hook.

Like, this is the template for drop pods. This is The Thing that people are referencing whenever drop pods show up in sci fi, like in fucking Halo, or Starcraft, or Warhammer 40k. And everyone always seems to forget the single most important thing about this infantry delivery system: the countermeasures.

I dunno. This is just one of those things that's always annoyed me.

#drunk skunk rant #scifi #drop pods #Helldivers #Helldivers 2 #Helldivers II #Starship Troopers #Robert A Heinlein

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aboxofcereales · 1 year ago

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I’m slowly working on a piece of paper about changes in Wyll’s character between early access and game release, but I don’t really know when I’m going to finish it, in the process I’m more and more fascinated by potential story of Wyll’s parentage and their own story. Although mostly this is purely headcanon, but may I suggest the following:

There are few things we learn about Wyll’s mother during the game.

After stumbling upon Arabella in Shadow-Cursed Lands, a following dialogue may happen: “You've talked about your father, but not your mother. Why's that?” “Because there's nothing to tell. She died when I was born. As a boy, my bond with father was too deep to miss the mother I never had. Now, well - I'd be lying if I said I'd never thought about my mother. What life would've been like if she'd lived.”

During romance scene in Act 3, Wyll says: “My mother always said the Wilden Oak's acorns held just a touch of wishing magic.”

There are two weapons, belonging to Ulder Ravengard, which describe some details about Wyll’s parents - Duke Ravengard's Longsword (can be found on Ravengard himself) and Ravengard's Scourger (can be found at High Security Vault 5 in The Counting House): Longsword: “Cradling his newborn son awkwardly, the Duke's face pulled into a rictus of misery. His love Francesca smiled at him, briefly, and died. He stared at her until the boy cried, and he told the boy it would be all right, though he himself did not believe it.” Scourger: “Duke Ravengard's father was the sort of man who works with his hands, and communicates in grunts. In his heart his son vowed to do better. But when Wyll was born, Ravengard felt a strange gravity that drew him away from his son.”

To sum up, what we learn in-game is that Wyll’s mother was named Francesca, she died giving birth to Wyll, Ulder loved her and their son, and tried his best to raise Wyll well.

Ulder’s parenting style deserve its own piece, but I think its obvious that he cares for Wyll deeply, though often failed to show it, acted to strictly, to righteously. Ultimately, it fall down on Ulder character, the “Murder in Baldur’s Gate” describes him as following: “Blaze (Major) Ulder Ravengard is the incarnation of militarism. The only beauty he appreciates is precision, and the only quality he values is utility. He believes that personal ornamentation other than military insignia is a waste. A meticulous man, he forgets nothing and forgives less. Ravengard has never married and has no interest in domestic matters. Someone might consider him handsome, if not for his constant scowl and many scars.

Blaze Ravengard is Marshal Abdel Adrian’s right hand man. He is both the second Highest ranking officer in the flaming fist and the warden of Wyrm’s rock. Ravengard’s soliders do not love him. They do respect his leadership, however, and pay for it with their obedience, which is exactly how Ravengard prefers things.

Naturally stolid and terse, Ravengard is slow to speak and make decisions in any arena expect the battlefield. Once he decides on a course of action, Ravengard is relentless in it’s pursuit. He believes the Flaming Fist is the Gate’s backbone and the key to the city’s strength.

With the Death of Marshal Abdel Adrian Ravengard has risen to the Rank of Marshal of the Flaming Fists.”

What’s interesting, its noted that Ulder Ravengard was never married, and the longsword description calls Francesca Ulder’s love, not bride or wife. This more then likely mean that Wyll was born out of wedlock, as Wyll is about 16-17 during the death of Abdel Adrian.

When talking with Counseller Florrick, when Wyll is reveled to be Ravengard’s son, he says “The circumstance of my birth is no matter of pride for neither me nor my father.” This may refer to Wyll’s birth leading to his mother’s death or the fact that Wyll’s technically was born a bastard. In the latter case, Wyll’s mom might as well have been a worker at Sharess' Caress, with whom Ulder could have had a one night stand, but its specifically stated that Francesca was loved by Ulder, and of what I read about the Grabd Duke he seems to be the man who would marry her out of duty and responsibility of getting her pregnant. So there should be another reason behind it.

There’s this banter between Shadowheart and romanced-Wyll:

“Someone of your social stature, Wyll, are they typically allowed to pursue their heart whims as they like?” “I don't have to ask for permission if that's what you mean.” “Really? I'm surprised, I thought dowries, alliances and old blue blood feuds might have to be balanced against your desires.” “I'm my own man, Shadowheart, in this sense at least.”

Wyll’s a hopeless romantic, who wishes for a happily ever after with her one true love, and Ulder apparently never minded the potential social status, despite him and Wyll being a high-ranking member of society.

Of course, Ulder’s marital status and Wyll existing can be explained by the fact that Wyll being Grad Duke Ulder Ravengard’s son was a part of the character rewrite. It was datamined before that originally was supposed to be a great-grandson of Duke Eltan, the founder of the Flaming Fist and a Grand Duke of the city of Baldur's Gate in the 1300s DR. And the bits of this storyline are still presented in the game: Fist Art Cullagh with his original writ of duty, signed by Eltan himself, pre-final part of Wyll quest taking place in the Iron Throne, where Eltan nearly assassinated.

Currently, House Eltan, the descendants of Duke Eltan, is one of the noble patriar families. The Forgotten Realms wiki states that: “The family held partial financial ownership of the Flaming Fist mercenary company. At one point however, they were forced to sell their interest to help pay significant debts they had incurred.”. Which I believe corelates with what EA!Wyll spoke of his father (the man saw any shining bauble he liked and took it, and my hand were ever so stinky or smt along those line).

So, what if Wyll is still Elatn’s great-grandson through hid mother? What if somewhere along 1460s DR Francesca Eltan, a granddaughter of a once Grand Duke of the city and a member of patriar family, met Ulder Ravengard, a son of a poor blacksmith and a mercenary of The Flaming Fist, steadily ascending through its ranks? What if Franceesca taught the stern and disciplined Ulder to dance, read to him her favorite stories and poems under the Wilden Oak, made him on other things then duty and order? What is if their time together resulted in Francesca getting pregnant with Wyll? What her family did not approve of the union due to Ulder being merely a mercenary, who hailed from the Lower City, or they wished to marry her off to someone who could aid with the family’s financial problems? What if Francesca ran away, hoping that the birth of a grandchild could convince her family to attend their wedding afterwards? What if Wyll’s love of dancing and dreaming came from the mother he never knew?

#baldur's gate 3 #bg 3 #wyll ravengard #ulder ravengard #bg3 wyll #wyll bg3 #wyll #in my mind ea!Wyll and gr!Wyll are the same person #just one was take in by the Eltans #and another was raised by his father #I just wish the game provided more contents for Wyll #and Ulder for that matter #there is so much more the could’ve done #gods

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ryin-silverfish · 4 days ago

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Ping Jinchuan: A 19th century Sci-fi Shenmo Novel

Like all popular novels, when something sets a trend, many imitators follow suit, until the formula becomes its own genre of sorts.

FSYY is one such genre setter. Specifically, the "Battle of Arts" (斗法) formula, where immortals and deities are added into a historical event——usually a war, but it can also be something like Admiral Zheng He's voyage——and proceed to use said setting as an excuse to battle it out using spells, magical treasures, and formations.

It's such an enduring formula, late Qing novels were still following it. And because it's the 19th century, western technology and ideas were entering China and making their way into popular culture.

My first exposure to the results comes from Legends of the Eight Immortal Attaining the Dao (八仙得道传), where the narrator occasionally interrupts the story and goes: "Electricity-based technology is totally the work of Mother Lightning, guys!"

Why am I telling you all these random facts? Because Ping Jinchuan ("Quelling the Golden Stream") is that, but turned up to eleven.

Technically, FSYY is set in Shang dynasty China. Technically, Ping Jinchuan is an obscure 1899 novel about the quelling of rebellions in Qinghai and Tibet during the 18th century by the historical general Nian Gengyao.

However, considering that FSYY has 11th century BCE gunpowder weapons, and...the entirety of Ping Jinchuan, I really doubt the claim of the latter novel's author that the story is based on the eye witness accounts of his ancestor, who worked as an advisor under Nian Gengyao.

But if you insist, here's a rough summary of the historical background: the first war Nian fought in Tibet happened during the reign of Kangxi, because the Dzungar Khanate invaded Tibet.

The second rebellion Nian quelled in Qinghai, during the reign of Yongzheng, was started by Lobzang Tendzin. He fought against the Dzungar Khanate with the help of Qing army, but rebelled together with local chiefdoms and Mongol leaders when he was not granted the rulership of Tibet afterwards.

(Confusingly enough, during the reign of Qianlong, there were also 2 other rebellions by the chieftains of "Greater and Lesser Jinchuan" in northwestern Sichuan, which might be where the novel's name came from.)

Naturally, the novel proceeds to tell a "Battle of Arts" story, about Tibetan Buddhist monks, Muslims, Daoist sages, and the leaders of the Roman Catholic Church duking it out with typical Shenmo novel treasures...and 19th century magitek.

There is potential for some serious analysis about Qing military expansion, violence on the frontiers, how foreign religions and people are perceived through the framework of popular fiction, etc. But honestly, after seeing the above summary, are you really here for *that*?

I'm not, because I don't know nearly enough about the historical context, and the entire premise is ridiculous enough to defy any attempt at taking it seriously——unless the attempts are ironic.

Case In Point

The novel starts off pretty tame: Lobzang Tendzin, "King of Jinchuan", wanted to send his own Dalai Lama candidate to Tibet after the previous Dalai's death, as part of a power ploy to make himself the de facto ruler of Tibet.

He allied himself with Galdan, the Dzungar ruler, to force the Tibetans to accept his candidate at gunpoint——literally.

Their firearms and cannons got stopped by a Lama named Ding Chan, who used his meditation power to summon divine warriors and fend off the first wave of attack.

However, his meditation was broken by the plight of Jinchuan soldiers disguised as female refugees, and later, Galdan assassinated him in his sleep with a firing squad during a treaty talk organized by the Qing.

Emperor Yongzheng was not happy and sent Nian Gengyao and Yue Zhongqi to quell the rebellion. Also, Nian is actually the Heavenly Dog Star incarnate, who learned martial arts, classics, war strategy, and all sorts of neat stuff in his youth from a poor Buddhist monk.

Later, said monk and Yue's master sent a bunch of their disciples to Nian and Yue as reinforcement, before the battle began.

Then, in Chapter 4, Nan Guotai was introduced as the fictional son of the historical Belgian missionary, Ferdinand Verbiest. Nicknamed "Little Lu Ban", he was well-versed in the arts of western machinery and firearms, and the first sign of the story going completely off the rails.

The first "Battle of the Arts" round was pretty standard——Five Phase Formation, magical breaths, treasures. But Nan was ordered to make 15 "mechanical carts" that could produce flames, in conjunction with a field of landmines, to assist in the breaking of the Five Phase Formation.

Despite the similarity, they aren't tanks, but more like...trapped cargo trailers/RVs. Basically, they had "doors and windows" with built-in mechanisms that only allowed entry into the carts and could not be opened from the inside, and once the enemies were trapped, the carts became giant incinerators.

After losing the first round, the King of Jinchuan put up a recruitment poster for "talented followers of the Three Religions"...except the Three Religions weren't Buddhism, Daoism, and Confucianism, but Islam, Buddhism, and Daoism, since the story is set in Qinghai, where there was a notable population of Hui people (Chinese Muslims).

After seeing the poster, Galdan's wife decided to seek help from her own master, the Patriarch of the Snowy Mountains. He is a Muslim sage with 12 powerful disciples...who all wielded typical Daoist treasures.

They all got overshadowed by the next round of Steampunk Shenmo Battle, though, when an unrelated Daoist showed up with his trump card: "Strong Water", a.k.a. magical hydrochloric acid.

The magical HCI was then put into giant glass syringes and fired at Nian's troops, resulting in significant casualties. To bypass the HCI syringe cannons, Nan unrevealed his latest invention: the Skysoar Orb, a.k.a. hot air balloon.

The Qing troops then mounted firearms and cannons onto the air balloon, flew it above Galdan's camp to a height where the HCI syringes couldn't reach, and started shooting. However, they were all mortals, and got decimated when the enemy immortals flew up to take control of the balloons, forcing an emergency landing via needles.

After that, the hot air balloon was manned entirely by immortals, until Galdan covered his camp in a mesh of barbed wires, blocking the aerial fire but also making it impossible for him to use his own HCI syringes.

Then a little 13 years old immortal, Gengsheng the Acolyte, joined the Qing army, who's the reincarnation of the Lama executed by Galdan's firing squad. Abandoned at birth and adopted by a Daoist master, he was able to fly on clouds since he was 8-9 years old, which he used to travel to Europe.

While he was there, a Swedish sage gifted him a powerful treasure——the Electricity Whip, which can be used to electrocute people to death...but also magically heal injuries with its currents.

I have trouble visualizing the thing. Is it a literal whip of lightning arcs (since it's described as being able to turn into a white beam), a taser, an electric cattle prod, a plasma whip, or the unholy lovechild of all the above plus a tesla coil?

Hilariously, the Electricity Whip treasure of the Nikola Tesla Sect (/sarcasm) stopped working when exposed to "dirty stuff" such as a woman's magical handkerchief. Classic folk magic style.

After a bunch of boring fighting sequences, 6 of the 12 disciples of the Patriarch decided to get the big formations out, which were broken by buckets of pig blood.

…Yeah, that's pretty much the extent of the author's understanding of Hui customs and Islam. (sigh) The surviving disciples went to get the Patriarch for help, who casted an AOE spell of poisonous smoke, water and fire to block the Qing troops' path...

Annnnnd Nan to the rescue again! With the help of Nian Gengyao's monk master, he built the Earth Travel Cart: a magitek subway train shaped like a pangolin, able to carry a hundred people and move a hundred Li per hour. It didn't need rails, you just dug a hole in the ground, put the train in, and it started tunneling through the earth on its own.

The entire army used 500 of these magical subway trains to bypass the Patriarch's AOE spell coverage, forcing them to retreat to their home base, Tianshan (Heavenly Mountain). Which is a real mountain range in central Asia and Xinjiang province, and going there from Qinghai is plausible. Kinda.

I'm still skeptical about the novel's claim that the path through Tianshan is the only path leading into Jinchuan proper, but whatever.

The Patriarch put his most powerful formation on said mountain pass——the Ice Freeze Formation, which will insta-freeze immortals, mortals, and flying birds alike when they step in range.

Then comes the craziest part of the entire novel. Honestly, everything after this chapter is pretty boring and formulaic, which makes it the perfect note for this article to end on.

Nan suddenly revealed that the current Roman Pope is the grandson of Matteo Ricci, who's the mentor of Nan's dad, and took his hot air balloon to Rome to get reinforcement. To no one's surprise, the Pope's treasure is a cross.

The Pope agreed and took his 12 disciples——supposedly because it's the same as the number of apostles——to the snowy mountain.

He gave a cross and a white candle to each of his disciples; they walked straight into the Ice Formation and broke it by holding the two holy objects up in the air, while loudly chanting (a highly localized translation of) "Hail Mary!"

After making his grand entrance, the Pope neutralized the Patriarch's spell attacks and turned his last disciples' army of soldiers back into their true forms——a bunch of farm animals.

He then told the disciples that as the Roman Pope, he had authority over "Russia, England, France, Netherlands" and all the European nations, and he'd leave the Patriarch to mind his own business if he surrendered and stopped interfering in the war.

Three of the four examples he gave aren't even Catholic, but maybe the Protestant Reformation just never happened in this novel's 18th century world because Pope Magic.

The Patriarch accepted the cease-fire treaty, went back to teach his religion to the population of northwestern China, and that's pretty much it. His last female disciple (Galdan's wife) got her troops' firearms neutralized by the Pope's cross, taken prisoner, and executed by Nian.

After revealing that the Qing immortals' power also came from the Grace of Our Lord and Savior, and that was why westerners couldn't use spells (but could make electricity-based treasures?), the Pope flew back to Rome on Nan's air balloon, exiting the novel once and for all.

Which is a pity, because in the second half of the novel, one of the defeated foes escaped to (Ottoman?) Turkey to beg their king for reinforcement, and the Russian Tsar agreed to help the Jinchuan troops to make his French wife happy. I want my Papal 13 vs. Russian Orthodox Bishops Shenmo battle, dammit!

Food for thought: if the Pope was Matteo Ricci's grandson, and Matteo Ricci was also a mentor of Ferdinand Verbiest, Nan's dad (historically, Ricci died 13 years before Verbiest was even born)...

...Is this a timeline where the Jesuits won the Rites Controversy, Ricci cultivated himself into the first Catholic immortal, and ushered in the age of Syncretic Daoist-Catholic Steampunk?

#chinese folklore #chinese literature #steampunk #chinese novels #catholic church #daoism #buddhism #chinese history #islam #matteo ricci #jesuits #qing dynasty #investiture of the gods #fengshen yanyi #how do you even tag this novel #the sheer unhinged fun of it all

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tachiharastanacc · 6 months ago

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Tachi fic time!

Michizou didn’t like talking to his parents on the best of days. And today was a far cry from a good day.

It was his own fault really. He’d gotten ahead of himself, so confident in his abilities that he’d gotten sloppy. Although, realistically, even if the plan had gone off perfectly, this still probably would’ve been the result.

Still, sitting in front of the family he hadn’t seen in months with a man he’d met only a day ago wasn’t ideal. Especially when that man was currently staring at his parents like they’d told him to kill someone.

And technically they had.

“…only to show up out of nowhere with an escort from the military police! Honestly, I can’t imagine where we went wrong! If your brother were here-“

“My brother is dead.”

“And it should’ve been you instead!”

“That’s enough.”

The man didn’t yell. He hadn’t yelled once since Michizou had met him. Even after Michizou had pointed a sword at him. The man’s own sword, to be specific.

His mother had the decently to look a bit embarrassed, though she made sure to level her son with a look reminding him whose fault it was that she was scolded.

“This is the second time you’ve made such a comment in the four minutes since I’ve been here. Surely you, a mother who has already lost a son to war would know the pain that comes with losing a child.”

“With all due respect, sir,” his father practically spat, “you know nothing of our family. Our lives. We’ve been grieving our son for a long time.”

“And forgetting about the son that still lives.”

His mother grabbed a napkin off the table.

Michizou couldn’t help but roll his eyes, knowing exactly where this was going. She kicked him under the table.

“You don’t understand how hard it’s been.”

She dabbed at her, very much still dry, eyes with the cloth napkin. “Every time I look at him, I see Shunzen’s face. Having him here, it’s just painful. And he’s so difficult! Always running off and getting into trouble! Dragging our family name through the mud! We’d all be better off without him!”

Michizou crossed his arms. He could see the man next to him tense up a bit at the statement.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do! I mean it with all of my heart!”

She turned to him.

“I wish you were dead.”

And there it was.

She could only bitch about him for so long before reminding him how little she wanted him.

The man in the uniform stood up, pulling out the sword from his belt and turning to the young teenager. He held the tip to his throat, emotionless.

“H-hey wait!”

“If I were to kill him right now, would your words still hold true I wonder?”

Neither of his parents flinched. In fact, they seemed completely neutral. Detached.

“I said I’d return the stuff! Y-you’re not actually gonna kill me, right?!”

None of the adults looked at him, busy with whatever pissing contest they were having with each other.

Maybe he could take this chance to escape? The man was strong, abnormally so, but he was distracted. And his weapon was really only metal. If Michizou could disarm him quick enough…

He sheathed the blade.

“…understood. We’re leaving.”

“Huh?”

The man fully turned to him. “We’re not wanted here. Therefore, there’s no point in us sticking around.”

He practically pulled the thirteen year-old out of his chair, dragging him to the door.

“Thank you for the tea.”

His voice remained even, his words polite, but there was a quiet rage in his eyes.

“Good riddance!”

Despite the years of hearing the same words over and over, it still stung just a bit. He’d come so close to being killed in front of them, and they couldn’t even pretend to care?!

The man stopped suddenly on the stoop.

“Tachihara.”

“Michizou.”

“Tachihara.”

Michizou glared at him. “That’s my brother’s last name.”

“It’s yours too.”

“It’s not. They don’t like me using it.”

The man spared a brief glance back at the door. “Do you really care what they like?”

Fair point.

“…fine. Tachihara.”

The man nodded. “I don’t like people like that.”

His grip tighter a bit, causing Tachihara to wince. Seriously, just who the hell was this man?!

With a muttered apology, he let go, patting the boy a bit too hard on the back instead.

“People like what?”

He’d never actually been arrested before. The police nearby knew him and usually let him off with a warning. He wasn’t a fan by any means, but he was at least a bit grateful, even if it meant stomaching the pitying looks when they learned he was caught stealing things like bread or bottles of water.

“People who sit and look down on others. They don’t know what it’s like, being on the frontlines, watching your men die, yet they claim to have it worse. Like the world revolves around them. That’s what they do. The ones on top.”

He began walking down the driveway. Confused, Tachihara followed him. He had a pretty strong feeling this was about more than just his parents.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m taking you to meet the others.”

As if that explained anything.

Still, the man was waiting now. Watching him with those intense eyes that bore into his parents just minutes before.

He took a few hesitant steps after him. He was expected to follow, right? Or was he getting ahead of himself?

“What others?”

The man smiled warmly, though the coldness in his eyes wasn’t entirely gone, along with a hint of something Tachihara couldn’t quite place.

“You have a strong ability. With my help, you could be incredibly powerful.”

“So…”

“I’m offering you a job.”

“…and if I refuse?”

“Well, I could always make good on my word and kill you for real.”

Tachihara stared at him, eyes wide. None of this made any sense. Really though, who was this guy?

The man’s gaze was cold as the steel Tachihara controlled. He took a few large strides over, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder.

After a moment of intense eye contact (and the youngest Tachihara almost forgetting to breathe), the man grinned once again and let out a loud laugh. His unpredictability was consistent, the boy would give him that.

“Relax. I’ll give you time to think about it on the way over.”

Thus, thirteen year-old Tachihara Michizou found himself in a car with the famed war hero Fukuchi Ouchi, driving outside the city limits.

For what it was worth, Fukuchi was kind- in a strict, try-hard step dad kind of way. Though, somewhere in the back of his mind…

He never actually said he wouldn’t kill me.

(@starlightshadowsworld bc I had abt an hour on the train earlier)

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd tachihara #tachihara michizou #tachihara #bsd fukuchi #fukuchi ouchi #bsd hunting dogs #hunting dogs #fic #bsd fic

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emthimofnight · 10 months ago

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Name ✨Stellar the Hedgehog✨

Age Varies based on what age I draw her, but let's say 16!

Pronouns She/Her

Basic Description The product of Project Stellar—a secret government operation aiming to perfect Project Shadow—Stellar is a genetic experiment combining the DNA of the Ultimate Life Form and the fastest thing alive. Designed to be a living weapon, Stellar was born in a hidden facility where she would have been raised to be an unstoppable weapon for the military. Thankfully, Shadow the Hedgehog (with help from Rouge the Bat) discovered her existence, destroyed the lab, and rescued her as an infant. Shadow then went on to begrudgingly inform his long-time rival, Sonic the Hedgehog, of their newfound child, seeing as she was technically just as much Sonic's problem as she was Shadow's. From there, the duo (along with help from their friends) raised Stellar as their daughter, sheltering her from the knowledge she was created to be a force of destruction for her masters. Along the way, Sonic and Shadow found themselves truly falling for one another, dissolving the barriers they had placed between one another as rivals, finding new appreciation for each other in their new parental roles.

Stellar herself is a bright, warm-hearted person. She has a strong sense of justice and never shies away from standing up for what is right. She takes after Sonic in personality, always cracking jokes and finding it hard to sit still. Despite this, she inherited Shadow's finesse and ability to plan out her choices, not to mention his abilities to utilize chaos energy. She has a love for figure skating, ballet, and make up (thanks to Auntie Rouge!), but don't let her feminine side fool you, she is not afraid to get her hands dirty! She would love nothing more than to spend her day smashing badniks into the ground with her skates if her dads would let her! Stellar loves both of her parents dearly, but sometimes wishes that they wouldn't be so protective of her. After all, what could they possibly have to be worried about?

Extra ✨Stellar's favorite color is red. ✨Her favorite food is chili dogs. ✨She is bisexual. ✨Her favorite flower is lavender, because it reminds her of home! ✨She learned how to skate from Shadow. ✨She calls Shadow "papa" and Sonic "dad". ✨She desperately wants to make her family and friends proud. ✨Her best friend is Camellia the Cat, the daughter of Blaze and Amy. ✨She loves racing Sonic, but is frustrated he always lets her win. ✨She can be VERY impulsive when angered, much like both of her parents! ✨She is SUPER dense when it comes to romance. She has no idea ✨Camellia has been in love with her since they were little! ✨The inhibitor rings she wears keep her powers under control, but they also prevent her from truly mastering them. ✨Her powers are designed after collapsing stars/black holes. Extremely destructive to both herself and everything around her. ✨She has no awareness to the extent of the latent power inside her.

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kaurwreck · 20 days ago

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not to be back on my shit but fyodor hasn't used the one order yet, and I still don't think he can. fukuchi programmed it to respond to fukuzawa. if fukuzawa used it too immediately, everyone beneath his authority would lose their autonomy; the agency is a guerilla force, they encircle like in go, they don't rigidly advance like in chess.

fukuzawa's skill is such that he grants his litter independence through self possession of their skills. so it's against his nature to use the one order where his unruly kittens might be caught in its influence. it's also impractical: he canonically does not have a devious nature + he is their pillar so that they can wreak havoc. commanding them is liable to kill them.

but! ranpo says in chapter 92 that all they need to win is to stop fukuchi from receiving the one order.

this was a thousand years ago, and so much has happened, but ranpo doesn't condition their solution path. if they can just stop the enemy from receiving the one order, they win, hard stop. in game theory, a dominant strategy is a strategy that is better than any other strategy for one player, no matter how that player's opponent will play.

I mentioned that the agency plays go above. go is super technical, but essentially: the goal is to control more of the board than your opponent by surrounding vacant spaces with your stones. Connecting stones keeps them secure, so an important offensive tactic is to prevent the opponent from connecting their stones while at the same time keeping one's own stones connected.

Fukuzawa secured the One Order, and thus the military. Bram had to "die" or otherwise be cut from his kin; he can't control the vampires if someone else has the seal/holy sword. He died, his kin were released, removing the vampires from Fyodor's disposal. Akutagawa and Bram seem to be tossing control over Akutagawa's body back and forth, based on their dialogue and Akutagawa's clear eyes when Bram "died." This is relevant because Bram can't be killed by ordinary means, and Akutagawa has an immensely powerful offensive skill. The armor, sword, and shield ensure that Bram has a weapon in hand when Akutagawa relinquishes his will and thus Rashomon, and Akutagawa, who is weaker and does best at mid range, isn't immediately cut down at such close range. Fyodor is wholly ignorant of any of this.

(In other words, it was Akutagawa who cut Fukuchi's hand before he could behead Atsushi since Rashomon struck.)

Since Bram released his kin, Mori likely just had the entire Port Mafia returned to him.

Aya's dad was at the airport, but we haven't seen him; she was there to bring him an item he'd forgotten. He's a cop with some form of leadership position based on Aya's mental image of him, so he is likely somewhere on the board coordinating relief.

Francis is watching, and he and Louisa are connected with a group that Francis seemed to deploy in his most recent scene. They have helicopters on scene, so they're monitoring the airspace.

Chuuya and Dazai are in France. They are in Europe. Ranpo called Europe the center of skill warfare and that if the UK, Germany, and France were to mobilize, they could reign in the global vampirism outbreak within six months. Chuuya and Dazai are the most equipped to coordinate Europe, even with only the two of them. Skills can't touch Dazai, and Dazai can nullify the ones aimed at Japan, and Chuuya can become a nuclear bomb black hole. (Also, Adam!) In other words, they can petition Europe to mobilize rather than incinerate the shit out Yokohama, and although they're alone, they're nearly unkillable. If they can wake up Sigma, then Sigma would be an invaluable resource for negotiating with the Europeans. He can give them information while receiving the same from them, a mutual enough exchange to maintain their shared interests, but none of the information he has to give would compromise the Port Mafia or Agency since he's an outsider.

Fukuzawa ordered Atsushi to run. It was an order Atsushi understood, I'm not sure if we're privy to the details. Not from the airport— the other Agency members were a weaker group, but Atsushi can't be lost because he's nigh unkillable and can likely kill Fyodor. Kunikida signaled Atsushi with two flares. His arms were raised; instead of protecting himself, he called Atsushi. He might have also called Bram (and thus Akutagawa) since Bram and Ranpo spoke prior to Fyodor bursting on scene. In other words, they sacrificed a plum to save the peach tree — Kunikida and Junichiro were taken, but they connected Akutagawa, Atsushi, and Bram. Fyodor tried to leave, but Fukuzawa was there, prepared to block his path. This is appropriate: Fyodor is physically weaker, so is Fukuzawa. The deuteragonists can handle god, Fukuzawa can prevent Fyodor from absconding while the other groups close in.

(Also, for whatever it's worth, anyone liquefied and currently swirling in Fukuchi's closed space is almost surely only unsettled, not dead. It's a fundamental principle in fluid mechanics that a the total mass of a fluid within a closed system remains constant, meaning that no matter how the fluid flows or changes form, the total amount of mass stays the same; it can neither be created nor destroyed, only rearranged within the system.)

anyway! all of this to say: Fyodor thought he was playing 4d chess, but it's go. now a little sun tzu, as a treat:

If your opponent is of choleric temper, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant.

Atsushi isn't passive, but he's scarcely raised a hand to defend himself or fight. He agitated Fyodor by pleading and clinging and despairing, thereby ensuring Fyodor would reject him. They are keeping Fyodor from leaving; Akutagawa did not come until others had gone, maintaining the illusion that they are the smaller, more exposed force.

It would be very funny if Poe booksnatched him; Meursault pt. 2, but without his skill, and while making him deliriously angry.

Maybe that's why Atsushi and Akutagawa were the only ones remaining in the S5 finale.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd 120

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honeycombclaire · 8 months ago

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You know what I need? I need the Marvel time-travel trope, but everyone goes back to the 40s.

(I say everyone, I mean the Avengers pre-Infinity War.)

Because everyone says Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are men out of time (and they’re not technically wrong). But I want to see the Avengers (sans Steve and Bucky) getting sent back in time by some wizard or a freak Asgardian lightning storm or something, and poof, they’re back in the 40s, right smack in the middle of the war.

I want the Avengers to witness what life was like during the war, hiding in bomb shelters and seeing the after effects of the world crawling out of the Great Depression and hurtling into the second World War in twenty years.

Life when Steve really was the weirdest thing science ever created. When he was desperately needed and internationally adored. Because all of the Avengers have PTSD, but Steve and Bucky went through World War II and got spit back out into the 20th and 21st centuries, and that’s a whole different category of PTSD and trauma.

I want the Avengers to actually meet the survivors of Azzano, when Steve marched into the massive Nazi base and saved hundreds of soldiers, part because he could and part because he was desperate to save his best friend, and didn’t think twice about it.

I want the Avengers to see Steve and Bucky thrive. I want them to witness Steve and Bucky with the Howling Commandos. Steve’s first team. I want them to see how Steve and Bucky lived, what life was like, because it was drastically different than the modern world.

I want the Avengers to witness firsthand life on a military base. I want Tony to have to look his father in the eye and pretend he doesn’t know who he is, but get to see all the good his father did because all he remembers is his father being an asshole. How much Steve really did care about Howard (and that Bucky did, too, because Howard made weapons to keep Steve safe).

I want Natasha to see that just because she’s an assassin doesn’t mean she’s a bad person, because there were hundreds of military assassins and spies during the war that did bad things to get information.

I want them to hear about the Tesseract and learn that sometimes Steve’s intelligence should be taken seriously, because he has experience and knowledge that none of the other Avengers will ever have. (“You should have left it in the water.” “This is the guy my dad never shut up about?”)

I want them to see how much Steve loved Peggy, how she and Bucky were the only ones who saw him for who he really was, and realize how awful it must have been for him to come back and work for the organization she created after his death and have to live without her.

I want them to hide and watch as Past Steve screams as Past Bucky falls from the train. I want them to see Past Steve realize he can’t get drunk, and the only way he can cope is to kill the Red Skull and end HYDRA. To avenge his friend. I want them to realize that not only did Past Steve crash the plane for nothing, but that Steve knows, has to live with that knowledge for the rest of his life.

I want them to listen with Peggy as Past Steve realizes he’s going to have to crash the plane. I want them to hear the slight tremble in Past Steve’s voice as he talks about dancing with Peggy, believing he’ll never get the chance, and that he’s going to die alone in the freezing cold ocean. I want them to not get the change to promise him that he’ll survive. I want them to hear the sudden static that cuts off Past Steve’s voice, and the heavy silence that comes after it.

I want them to see the world mourn for Captain America, who died just months before the war ended.

And then I want them to come back to the 21st century and see. I want them to see the way Steve’s eyes linger on pictures of Peggy and Howard, see the rows of records from the 30s and 40s in a whole new light, see rows of 30s-style clothes in his closet that he hardly ever wears because a lot of people will make jabs about it, see the way he always keeps Bucky in his sight, hugs him just a little bit tighter than he hugs everyone else.

I want them to see the bags under his and Bucky’s eyes when they have nightmares. I want Sam to quietly show them Steve’s list, and see that every line on every page is filled because he missed so much. I want them to find two more little books filled up just as much. I want them to realize how lost Steve still is despite how much he’s adapted.

I want them to see the subtle military training still ingrained in Steve’s bones, because any and every war was horrible, but World War II was something else entirely, and so was desperation that existed within the soldiers and the people. I want them to see Steve’s recklessness of jumping out of planes without a parachute, the way his eyes always scan the area when he enters a room, watching ever little detail and listening for any sound that might indicate danger. How he is always, always, on alert, even when he seems relaxed.

I want them to understand why Steve was so against the Sokovia Accords. It wasn’t because he wanted the power to do what he thought was best; it was because he was afraid of the consequences of having too many restrictions. Because even with international laws and the damn Geneva Convention, the Nazis still destroyed half the world, and decades later Nazi HYDRA was still carrying out their mission that Steve sacrificed his life for. Steve was a human experiment. The Serum was a biochemical weapon. The military broke the rules to protect the greater good, and Steve knew that. The war would have gone very differently without him.

Whether he was right or wrong about the Accords, after what Steve experienced, I want the Avengers finally understand where he was coming from. Why he was so afraid of strict regulations.

I want Tony to finally fully understand the significance of Steve giving up his shield in Siberia.

Why he was so determined to protect Bucky from the world. Not just because he was his best friend, or because it was the right thing to do. But also because Bucky was the only thing Steve physically had left of his life before the crash, save for his dog tags, and he was scared of what that would mean if Steve lost him.

Steve Rogers has so much trauma that Marvel completely ignored. They focused on Tony’s and Bucky’s and Natasha’s trauma; and that’s great, that’s important; but so much of Steve’s moral character doesn’t get explained because it gets glossed over with the excuse that he’s “Mr Good and Righteous.” And that’s true, but that’s just scratching the surface.

He’s Mr. Good and Righteous for a reason, and it doesn’t get talked about enough.

#steve rogers #the avengers #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #don’t come at me steve did crappy things during civil war #but so did everyone else #it’s about time marvel start recognizing Steve’s trauma is so much more than PTSD #that’s my point here

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