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jpitha · 1 year ago

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Color Me Surprised.

Human vision is hacks upon hacks upon hacks. Forget about how our brains just make wild guesses about things we see, or how there are whole parts of your vision that your brain can't see and just does "content aware fill" on it, or how your peripheral vision isn't nearly as good as you think it is.

Our brains just make up colors because we don't like to see two colors next to each other.

Magenta doesn't exist.

****

“Ugh, what is going on?” The Gren moved to cover their eyes as they staggered back, their reverse articulated legs unsteady.

“What? What is it? What’s wrong Peni’tam?” Jalisa stared at her friend as they moved back, their 2 pairs of eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“That… that thing. It hurts to look at!“ Peni’tam finall turned away and with their back to it, opened their eyes. They looked down at Jalisa. “It doesn’t hurt for you to look at? Is it some kind of human weapon?”

Jalisa peered around Pani’tam. Behind her, on the landing platform was a starship. It was small as starships go, likely only holding 4 or 5 people. With a Flip drive, you didn’t really need a large spacecraft for anything. Most destinations were no more than two or three days away, but humans tended to build large anyway. No reason not to when space is nearly limitless. Interdiction ship probably. Military, or at least formerly military.

It was small and sleek, with very few protrusions. Currently sitting on spindly landing legs, it almost looked like an insect.

It was also bright magenta.

“It’s just a ship Peni’tam. The color is a little unusual, but humans tend to paint their ships wild colors anyway. It’s got a bit of a dazzle camo pattern, made up in two or three shades of magenta.”

“Magenta? What’s that?” Now that Peni’tam wasn’t facing the ship they were much more steady on their feet.

“It’s just a color. Like, a really bright pinky purple?” Jalisa looked down at her pad. “Here, let me see if it’s emitting something.” She touched a few points and ran a scan. “Pani’tam, it’s cold. Even the reactor is off. It must be here for a refit.”

Pani’tam turned again and immediately winced. “Ow! No, something is up. That ship hurts to look at. I don’t mean like figuratively, I mean, literally it is painful. It is doing something.”

“Well, let’s step away from it then. We can find another way to the cafe. I just wanted to pass by the pads because I like to look at the ships.” Jalisa said, wistfully.

They went to the cafe by circling around the station past the gymnasium. Inside, Jalisa saw people running and lifting weights that seemed almost comically tiny until she looked over at the sign over the entrance.

OPERATING AT THREE GEE TODAY. EXERCISE CAUTIOUSLY.

She rolled her eyes. Of course the gym nuts would find a way to use the gravity generators to make the workouts more intense.

At the cafe, Jalisa and Peni’tam got their drinks and sat down at a wide, long table. “I just can’t believe that color doesn’t hurt you.” Pani’tam took a sip of their tea. “Your vision must be completely different than ours.”

Another human at the table heard their conversation and turned. “Oh, you saw the Variegated Elegy?”

“The little magenta ship? Yeah, Peni’tam here-“ Jalisa gestured at her friend “-got a massive headache when she tried to look at it.”

The human nodded. “I’m not surprised. It’s an old interdiction ship, originally designed to strike deep into Gren territory during the war. Now that the war is over, it’s here to be refitted into a yacht, and probably repainted too.”

“Oh really? That’s too bad. The magenta dazzle camo is so interesting.” Jalisa sipped her coffee and looked at the human. She was tall, with close cropped hair on one side, and the rest was swept up almost into a dark asymmetric pompadour. She was wearing a tailored uniform without any indicators of rank and just two silver pips on her left breast. She had a scar along her right cheek as well. She looked very rakish, and Jalisa had to look away quickly.

The human laughed. “It’s pretty neat isn’t it? Unfortunately, the Confederation races can’t process magenta. For some it just looks like a very odd blue, others see a very odd red. A few races like the Gren with very accurate color reproduction get headaches and it causes them pain. The color was chosen on purpose for that particular ship.”

“A color… hurts? Also I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

The woman winks. “I didn’t throw it. You can call me Tyler.”

Jalisa blushes just a bit. “Hi Tyler, I’m Jalisa.”

Tyler nods. “Works over in HVAC with Pam and Lan’urian? Nice to meetcha.”

How did she know that? Tyler continues. “Anyway. Yeah, for the Gren, when they see magenta they try and process it, but since the wavelength for blue will never be with the wavelength for red, the color can’t really exist.”

��But we see it?” Her coffee forgotten, Jalisa leans forward.

Tyler laughs. “That’s because our eyes are hacks upon hacks upon hacks. Half the things we ‘see’ aren’t real. Our brains just invent magenta when we put red and blue next to each other. We learned early in the war about Gren vision processing and were able to use it to our advantage. Now that the war’s over, we’re retiring the pain job. Gotta be good members of the Confederation after all.” Tyler rips off a sharp - though sarcastic - salute.

“So, the color of the ship itself is a weapon?” Peni’tam said, with a note of amazement in their voice.

“Yup! Pretty neat right? A weapon with no power and no ammunition and still causes nearly incapacitating pain if a Gren doesn’t look away.”

Jalisa looks at Tyler more closely. She seems so effortlessly confident. “How do you know so much about this, Tyler?”

Tyler shrugs. “Oh, it’s my ship. In the war I was an Intelligence Collection Agent and I ran the Variegated with a small tight crew.”

Jalisa nearly chokes on her tea. “You’re a spy?”

“Was a spy. War’s over, so we don’t need spy’s anymore, right?” Tyler winked again. Jalisa wasn’t sure if Peni’tam caught the gesture or knew what it meant. A wink was very situational and could mean lots of things. Tyler tossed back the rest of her coffee. “Anyway, I’m here for a few more weeks while the refit takes place.” She stands and looks down at Jalisa. “I’m free tonight. Call me, we’ll get dinner.” And without another word, she turns and walks out of the cafe.

After she left, Peni’tam stares at Jalisa. “You aren’t going to go to dinner with her are you?”

“And why not, Peni’tam?”

“She’s a spy! She spied on us during the war!” Peni’tam’s grey fur ripples and her mouthparts clack with stress.

“The war is over Peni’tam. Everyone on both sides fought it. I’m sure you had plenty of your own spies.”

Peni’tam shakes their head. The fur whooshes back and forth while they do it. “She’s so… cocky and self-assured. She practically made your date invitation a command.”

Jalisa blushed again. “I know. It was pretty cool.”

#writing #sci fi writing #humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #jpitha #humans and aliens #humans are space australians #humans are space capybaras #Color vision

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moodymisty · 9 months ago

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Getting it in at the last minute hopefully, but one thing that's on the brain is Chapter Serfs, the mortals who do a collection of jobs on fortress monasteries and are devoted to certain chapters. They're treated a whole range of ways depending on the chapter from "worse than slaves" to "members of the family". I've read somewhere that the Raven Guard treat their Serfs surprisingly well given they're all Spooky Scary, but I wanna know what you think!

Also on the brain is a serf worrying about her Raven Guard battle brother constantly, and being extremely gentle and doting on him because like... Look at him, being a space marine seems like an extremely painful existence.

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: This is a cute idea, and I want to write more Raven Guard. I hope you enjoy this little snippet!

Relationships: Unnamed Raven Guard/Gn!Reader (could be read platonic or very slightly romantic if you really squinted)

Warnings: Mentions of wounds like burns, Your astartes being apathetic about the whole thing

You almost have everything you think you'll need, looking over the spread of materials along the small table. If you've forgotten anything you hope he'll be as forgiving as the last times; As he always is.

The Raven's Valour has moored at Deliverance and you know his arrival is imminent; You'll finally be able to see him again. It's been months and while you serve the other Raven Guard with nothing but respect, there's something about your Raven Guard that is special. That has his arrival stirring your stomach.

It's become harder to even sleep without him nearby. You sleep in his private quarters with him- many of the serfs tending to higher rank Raven Guard do. The reasoning seems to be so you're always available to serve them, but too many of them seem to just like their serf's company to make it an excuse that doesn’t get doubted for a moment.

You hear the door open and quickly turn, spotting his wide shoulders and dark hair. Moments later however, you see that on areas not covered by his robes is what looks to be burns of some kind; Mostly chemical. It has that distinctive look, compared to a burn from a flame. He has other jagged cuts as well, but the burns are the most dramatic and eye catching.

"What happened?"

You say surprised, watching him sit down on the small bed and push his robes off his back. You can see his back is almost burned, and even though he has no reaction there isn't any way the cloth of his robes against his skin hadn't hurt.

You can also see the sores and dents where his armor weighed on him; in the weeks of nonstop use.

"We encountered heretics worshiping Nurgle. There were far more than expected, and they’ve learned new tricks."

He says little more than that, which doesn't surprise you. He isn't very talkative, particularly about these sorts of things. You presume his mission didn't go well if what little he gave was any indicator.

"I, I'm going to go get some things to help you, I'll be right back."

You quickly rush to grab any of the things you think will help, though much of it is more so for the humans around Deliverance than the astartes. The general consensus is they simply deal with the pain until it stops- that using healing solutions is a waste unless needed to preserve their life. you don't want him stay like this. He deserves more for protecting humanity; For protecting you.

"Here. This should help all of this heal."

You expected him to resist you, but you're surprised when he doesn't. You crawl onto the small bed and get behind him, holding your materials in your lap. He lets you come closer and apply medicine to all of his wounds, careful around the interface ports lining his back and shoulders. They run all along his back, digging directly into his spinal cord. They’re surrounded by old scars, and you fear it’ll hurt if you aren’t gentle.

You brush some burn cream over the massive one spanning his shoulder blade and he shifts, causing you to pull away for a moment.

"I'm sorry if this hurts, my lord."

He grunts at you, and you don't quite know if he's just responding, or scolding you for the use of title. Either way you eventually continue, but far more cautious.

You continue tending to his wounds, cleaning them and applying medicine to speed up his already incredibly fast healing. You know he doesn’t need it; But you know it will at least help. He's silent almost the entire time, until he turns to look at you over his shoulder.

"I can hear you thinking." You look up from his wounded shoulderblade.

You're thinking that he deserves better than this; To not be in pain, and treated like a weapon to be thrust at the enemy, and then be left in pain he's been trained to ignore. Or at least refuse to show.

"Sorry," Is all you can mutter, however. He looks at you for a moment longer, and you notice his dark eyes flicker around your face before he turns back around.

Once his wounds are as well as you can make them you rake your fingers through his black hair, until it's untangled enough to pull it back. Once you're finished, he looks towards towards the top of his bed. His hand tugs the thin fabric draping over it.

"You slept in it," He says bluntly and out of the blue, catching you red handed. You're still kneeling on the bed behind him, wringing your hands.

"I couldn't sleep one night. I was worried since the Raven's Valour was gone longer than you'd said it would be." He turns, and you notice a very small smile on his face.

"Do not worry about me so much." You look away, and you don't know why your eyes suddenly feel so watery.

"If I don't, then who else will?"

His small smile stays, but you notice something change in his look that you can't quite place.

And before you have a chance to even try he reaches a hand up, and rustles the top of your head. Afterwards, he cups your jaw with the same hand and keeps you facing him.

Don't worry little raven, I'll be fine."

#raven guard x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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flusteredfools · 1 month ago

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Could you please give us some ramblings about Summer Daze? Some rambles for the poor?

Oh dear, I can't let you go hungry! hmm... I don't know what to ramble about it. Though I guess I should start off with it's a poly fic, where Sun and Moon are dating before they meet the reader (big surprise.. jk almost like all of my fics will have SunxMoon cause I love them being together XD) (Also sorry if you've already read the two drabbles about this AU in my kinktober collection a lot of it will be what was already shared! but if there's more you're wanting to know you can ask for more!)

AU Summary:

You’ve always enjoyed the great outdoors. You love nothing more than spending time with nature and exploring and understanding the Earth’s flora and fauna; that seed of passion was planted in you when you were a young child sent off to your first summer camp, Fazbear’s Nature Camp. Fazbear’s Nature Camp was run almost entirely by their animatronics, with the only real human staff being the mechanics that were on call nearby. Now that you were an adult, you wanted to share that same joy and passion with other children; and what better way to do that than by joining up as a camp counselor at that very same summer camp now that they’re accepting human counselors?

Well specifically two human counselors, and you were lucky enough to be selected! You’ll be working with the middle age group in the team Cosmos cabins with the Sun and Moon animatronics. You hadn’t heard of them, but that’s not too surprising as all the animatronics at the camp are new to you; the older models retired out of the main duties and now only show up on special occasions or certain activities. It made you a bit bummed, not able to show the original Freddy and Chica how much you’ve grown and learned since all those years ago but you’re sure counselor Sun and Moon will be as much of a delight as they were!

Looking at their small bios online had you excited, the two animatronics looked so cute and matched the space theme for the Cosmos cabins so well. At least you were until you met them two weeks before the summer camp opened up to guests; the two celestial animatronics wanted little to nothing to do with you, both having a dislike for adults. Moon pretty much just ignored you, rarely speaking more than one word at a time to you but Sun seemed to hate you from the start; almost actively making things harder for you. It was sad but you were determined to not let it get to you, surely if they could see how much you cared they would at least not continue to try to make you quit… right?

It takes some time for Sun and Moon to warm up to you, with Moon falling for you first and then Sun a bit after. You however, don't realize this until the two have fully spelled it out for you (sorry but you're a bit dense when it comes to love) thinking that all those more flirty teases and jokes are just that and not their awkward attempts to win you over.

Oh and here's some rough concept sketches!

Here's some Camp T-shirts, Fazbear's Nature Camp logo on the front and the Team Logos would be on the arms and back. Team Flora Counselors: (Glam) Freddy, (Glam) Bonnie, & (Glam) Chica - Rec Age Group 7-10 Team Cosmos Counselors: Sun, Moon & You/Star! - Rec Age Group: 10-14 Team Fauna Counselors: Roxy, Monty, & Lewis/Buck (the other lucky human) - Rec Age Group: 15+

Counselor Y/N: Very outdoorsy, athletic, and covered with freckles from too much sun exposure. (will have more/various outfits), tucks their ponytail through their hat to help hold it off their neck, isn't afraid of bugs or dirt, can properly clean a fish to eat, though isn't a huge fan of the taste. Enjoys foraging for berries and mushrooms.

Sun! Extremely friendly and caring towards all children (though less tolerate of the more rowdy groups that tend to come from Team Fauna) has a major dislike for adults - including you. Time not spent with children is spent preparing the next fun thing for them or spent with Moon. Loves to wear all the friendship bracelets he makes with the children, he keeps a few special ones to always wear but most of them end up in a keepsake chest where he can keep them in perfect condition after their superstars leave. He always makes one for each camper, using their favorite colors and their name, with little team cosmos themed beads. Is usually loud and constantly moving, only slowing down or becoming quieter if he notices children who are overwhelmed or bothered by his upbeat actions. Otherwise a quiet Sun is an unhappy Sun. If/when he gets too upset he goes out to chop wood or seeks out comfort from Moon.

Moon is just as happy and friendly to be around the children, though he doesn't speak nearly as loud or move as frantic as Sun. He happily does tricks or sings songs for his campers, as well as always starts the first story around the campfire. He has a personal collection of comfort stuffed animals, blankets and pillows that he sews himself in between sessions, in case any little superstar feels lonely, missing home or just struggles with sleep. Some of which are scented, weighted and can be safely heated up for extra warmth. He lets them pick whatever they need from his collection and if they want him too, he'd stay with them until they fall sleep in their bunk; he also gives them a small little controller that they can press to alert him if they wake up and need him again. If there isn't a superstar that needs him at night, he'll go to the counselors cabin and sleep on the same bunk as Sun. It's very crowded with the two of them but neither mind. If it's been a rough day, Sun will talk with Moon about whatever he can think up, just non stop chatter and rambling to Moon so Moon can enjoy his partner's voice and presence; just soak up his Sunshine. More often than not Moon will talk to Sun via messages in their private network than out loud, it just feels more comfortable for him that way; he likes the extra feeling of being connected together where it's just them.

I hope that wasn't too much of a ramble... but feel free to ask more if there's something else you'd like to know about them! XD <3

#fnaf dca #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf daycare attendant #fanfic #fnaf security breach #fnaf #bearitt rambles #summer daze au #camp counselor y/n #camp counselor sun #camp counselor moon #dca au #summer camp au

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memoiich · 5 months ago

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Hey !!!

i just wanted to ask if you could write a Captain Rex x reader where reader is a medic? Thanky you so much i really liked the last fic

POLL WINNER DING DING DING

(thank you for the request ❤︎︎)

In service of serenithy

Medic!reader x Captain Rex

Wc: 1,2k

Tw: light angst and setup

Read on ao3: here!! ->Part2

It wasn't an uncommon sight anymore. Covered in cuts and quickly mended bones, troops staggered out of their ships at the coruscant plaindoc. Wayworn faces that all carried a sole sadness. Maybe they had lost friends and companions or their own blood. Your heart couldn’t help but burn for them. Yet they wore the knowledge that battle would call in a fourth night as a protective shield against their own tears. Brave eyes almost all the same color shined true.

Sure it has shocked you the first time, but after the last 4 months the med-bay got used to it. Some of your colleagues grumbled about the clone’s recklessness, others complained about their medic’s competence. The odd one here or there questions the need to heal a dying army. Almost all saw the downgrade from the hall of healing to army medic as an insult. A strange sentiment for a bunch of healers.

You put on a more welcoming face. All you cared for was to help the wounded, clone or jedi it did not matter. Both had shed blood in the endless war and both carried scar far deeper than skin.Your hands dropped to the bag on your hip. Having been taking in as a child in the halls,you had the time to create your own personal medkit. You skimmed past the bacta patches. They clearly needed more than that.

A clone like many others made his way over with a small wobble to his left leg. You quickly walked over in hope to not burden him. Before you could form a sentence he spoke panicked, “Could you please follow me our captain is in dire need” you nodded immediately.

“I tried to suture the wound as best as I could but we were running low on supplies” the man added while jogging you through the port to a white ship. As you stepped inside you noticed the trooper's medic logo on his arm. That explained why he carried the monster known as guilt with him “Sadly a common problem Sir” Your tongue cut through the claws of the beast leaving the poor medic to breath for a second.

You were brought to a chamber that looked like a very small version of the floor you worked on. By a centered bed there sat a Jedi master you presumed with his padawan. You were confused for just a second, they both looked fine. The medic next to you spoke up once again “General Skywalker, I brought the medic from the heeling halls.” “Thank you kix” as he spoke, the Jedi and his padawan both sat away from the bed. Leaving you space to slide next to the bed.

As you laid your eyes upon the man you quickly started to take the wraps of the cash on his abdomen. You were used to these kinds of injuries, blasts that were strong enough to pierce their breastplates. You opened your medical kit near your hip when a squeaky girl voice spoke up, “Is he going to be alright?” The padawan to your left asked.

You took a second to assess the damage better. “He should be” a wave of relief came over the room. Whoever this man was, he was well loved. You moved quickly cutting open the stitches Kix (as you now know) had inserted. Maker, this man was lucky, as far as you could see no vital organs were hurt. You drained the wound knowing that infection was a painful silent killer. After that, you dressed and tended to the wound. Once you were done you wiped your forehead with your sleeve.

You finally looked over to his face. He was truly lucky. His blond short hair suited him. You could not deny that he was handsome. You quickly avert your gaze to Kix. “Here” you handed him a bottle out of your pack “he should take these 2 times a day for the next 2 weeks” Kix nodded as the Jedi stood up next to him “And make sure to redress that wound every 2 days. If he doesn’t improve in 3 days, bring him in straight away to the med-bay” Kix was about to turn away to what you presume store away the bottle. “Kix” his head whipped around “You did well with what you had. You should bear no guilt” You wanted him to know that. He looked a little less lost. A soft smile appeared slowly as he left the room.

“ How long would it take before he is able to work again?” The jedi to your left asked guilty. Normally who would recommend 3 weeks but you knew they didn’t have time. No one has these days. “ In a week he should be able to stand and the pain should be subdued a little” they both looked hopeful but you couldn’t send a wounded man out “ give him at least 10 days general skyewalker “ the young togruta still looked a little stressed. You gave her a reassuring smile “ he will heal and if you would be sent out before those 10 days, he’s always welcome in the halls of healing”

You took one last glance to the man’s abdomen to check your work of course. The jedi cleared his throat to catch your attention. “Uh, could you take a look at my other men?” He asked while a knowing smirk played on his lips “Of course” you answered far too fast. You walked out to go help the others who only had minor injuries.

Rex woke up groggy. He tried to sit up straight but was held back by a stabbing pain and the sour muscles from the last 5 months of labour.A dumb reminder of an even dumber mistake. Jumping between a crossfire is as stupid as can be . Ahsoka was in the middle of a battle herself when a blast was aimed at her back. He understood that she could have parryd it easily but the risk wasn’t worth it to him.

An image of Kix Frustrated state trying to stitch him up fleshed to his mind. He pulled the blanket off him, expecting a festering wound but instead he found his stomach neatly wrapped in soft, white cotton gauze. Before he could question where those supplies even came from Ashoka rushed in.

“Rex! You’re finally awake!” She yelled excitedly as she raced past the door. He looked back up to her confused by his mended middle. Ahsoka wiggled her eyebrows “That was done by this really pretty medic.” She was about to continue when her face went a little blank “Now that I think about it she didn’t give me her name.” “Y/n” Anakin said smugly as he walked in “but that doesn’t matter. You could always go visit her in the halls of healing” Both of his commanders gushed out in fits of giggles.

Rex was even more confused than before. He knew of the healers, having accompanied Anakin on one of his many injuries. They were the top of the medical world, specifically for the Jedi. Years and years of knowledge filled those halls, when you walked past them (as Rex had done a few times) you could smell the old ink and parchment flowing by. Libraries filled with hopeful students patiently studying their teachers' brilliance with passion that could rival the jedi they so cared for .So why did they help a clone?

Rex ended up too far in his own thoughts again, he didn’t hear Anakin or Ahsoka speak or really anything for that matter. Finally he decided to lay his head back. Sleep would not quiet the storm raging in his head; it would also help his injury.

꧁Masterlist꧂

I am going to make this a tiny series just because its set through a few weeks and otherwise it would be a lot of timeskips and past days.

I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading ❤︎︎

#star wars #the clones #captain rex/reader #captain rex x reader #rex / reader #rex x reader #anakin and ahsoka #request #reqs open #writing

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vexwerewolf · 11 months ago

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Hey, do you have suggestions on a stealthy, shoot'n'scoot build for the Pegasus? I'm really, really new, but I like the idea of this thing that can always hit you and fades away until the next attack.

-- HORUS Pegasus @ LL6 -- [ LICENSES ] HORUS Pegasus 3, SSC Metalmark 3 [ CORE BONUSES ] Overpower Caliber, The Lesson of the Open Door [ TALENTS ] Infiltrator 3, Skirmisher 3, Crack Shot 3 [ STATS ] HULL:2 AGI:2 SYS:0 ENGI:4 STRUCTURE:4 HP:17 ARMOR:0 STRESS:4 HEATCAP:10 REPAIR:4 TECH ATK:+1 LIMITED:+2 SPD:5 EVA:10 EDEF:10 SENSE:10 SAVE:15 [ WEAPONS ] FLEX MOUNT: Smartgun FLEX MOUNT: Smartgun HEAVY MOUNT: Anti-Materiel Rifle // Overpower Caliber [ SYSTEMS ] Personalizations, Active Camouflage, Pattern-A Smoke Charges x5

So this is a very simple build.

What we're doing here is creeping around the edges of the battlefield, looking for a good opening. We use our Active Camouflage to remain Hidden even when it isn't our turn, and we look for a good firing position.

Our ideal turn start has us Hidden and in hard cover. We activate Crack Shot protocol and Active Camouflage if our heat's looking okay, line up on our intended target and shoot them with the AMR, hopefully hitting and hopefully critting. We don't bother rolling dice for our AMR - we just use By The Way, I Know Everything to set our damage to 11, or 14 if we crit. Having hit an enemy with an attack from Hidden, we proc Ambush, plus Watch This if we crit. With Lesson of the Open Door buffing our Save Target, we're well-positioned to inflict a horrid array of status effects on our target.

That was our first quick action. We spend the next quick action to Hide again, rendering us untargetable.

Next turn, Immobilized from Crack Shot goes away and we only need to keep Active Camouflage up if we're in immediate danger. We have various options:

If we want supreme mobility (or if there's someone close to us) we can exploit the extra movement from Mastermind: using Boost breaks Hidden after it resolves, so we can Boost, use the slide from Mastermind and then move normally, allowing us to move up to 15 spaces, 5 of it reactionless. If we're feeling really spicy, we could even Boost adjacent to an enemy, use the flashbomb clause of Mastermind and then run 10 away from them.

We can Skirmish with a Smartgun and proc all the same effects as last turn. If we want to apply more damage and don't need to be Hidden next turn, we can even Barrage with both.

Occasionally we'll need to Stabilize to deal with the heat build up from Active Camouflage, but that's great because it also allows us to reload our AMR.

This mech only has 17 HP, so with 0 Armor and 10 Evasion its survivability is fairly low, but this is aided by the fact that it spends most of its time Invisible, and due to the absurd range of its AMR (and the fact that its Smartguns don't even need line of sight) it often won't even be in range for enemies to hit at all. Skirmisher III also means that the first reaction attack taken against us each round will miss automatically, and if we're smart, enemies won't get an opportunity to make a second one.

The largest dangers to this build:

Enemies that have AoE attacks and thus they can get around their inability to target you by targetting an area that they think contains you, although Invisible will still protect you from this by providing a 50% miss chance. In particular, Bombards can just dispense with trying to narrow down your location and shell your entire zipcode instead.

Enemies with abilities that deal damage but aren't attacks. This completely bypasses Invisibility, and since this sort of ability tends to be AoE, they can also ignore Hidden if they have a reasonable idea of where you are. A great example is the Assault's optional Micro-Missile Barrage trait.

Enemies that are themselves also Invisible. Because we have no Reliable damage and there wasn't room on this mech for Eye of Horus, we have no reliable way of penetrating Invisible. This means our ability to engage with such enemies are completely at the mercy of the dice.

SCOUTS. They ignore Hidden and Invisible entirely, and have multiple tools that strip Hidden and Invisible from us, completely negating the main survivability tools of our build. Worse, they have excellent Evasion, decent E-Defence and can become Invisible themselves. Prioritize their destruction, or better yet - get your allies to do it.

#pegasus #lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer-rpg

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antimatterz · 2 years ago

Text

boyfriend/dating headcanons

ft. dan heng, gepard (my fav hubbies yesyes)

they might be ooc since i'm still getting into hsr and still trying to get to know them. might rewrite this when i am at that point and maybe i'll expand it with various other characters, i'll see lol

content under the cut | masterlist

— dan heng

here's the thing with dan heng

he's quite reserved but also unintentionally blunt and bold sometimes

i mean, he literally was about to perform cpr when he found you unconscious? boy going for that kiss after meeting you a minute ago

the proverb "still waters run deep" perfectly applies to him. he appears placid and that's something you really have to get used to in the beginning

he doesn't say much, nor does he seem to react much to what happens around him

which is a little weird to you at first. is he even happy with you? is he even affected by your presence and your actions? it doesn't seem that way... it confuses you

but really, once you get to know him, you learn to read him very well and you start to see things

his eyes, the corners of his mouth, the faint blush on his cheeks, the secret glances, the way he seems less indifferent around you

the light touches when he thinks no one is watching; his hand on the small of your back as you walk through the corridors of the space station, his fingertips grazing yours as he ponders whether or not to just take your hand even though you're in public..

eventually he grows more confident and open, and though he's still not a big fan of pda, he just can't resist showering you with subtle hints of affection

like playing with your hair during trailblazer meetings as you sit against him (the corners of his mouth would curl up ever so slightly that it's barely even noticable)

oh as i said before, he tends to be quite blunt sometimes, as he often speaks his honest thoughts. okay, he isn't the type to just blurt out things so he knows what he's saying but he also knows how it never fails to make you blush as his remarks leave you flustered

he's not the most cuddly person, you might have to help him get into a little. maybe you have to initiate acts of affection 9 out of 10 times but that doesn't mean he doesn't love you !! it's just how he is

you'd be surprised, though, as the longer the two of you are together, the more he makes the first move when it comes to showing love and affection

still though, i feel like he's more the type to verbally tell you how much you mean to him than through affection

and yeah, he'll leave you flustered as heck because he likes you a lot and he bluntly tells you so because why hide it?

you often tease him about the cpr thing and all the teasing will eventually lead to your first kiss (c'mon, you literally challenged him with all your teasing and who would not indulge if their s/o is literally asking for it?)

well, dan heng takes the chance

as blunt as he is with words, he is way more shy with next-level physical affection so his kisses are shy shy shy and careful which is really cute especially since he becomes so blushy afterwards in the beginning

and seeing the always so collected dan heng being flustered is a rarity and it's just super adorable

— gepard landau

this guy has a reputation

that of being a tough guy, stern and with a strong sense of justice, strong-willed and to some maybe even as cold as the ice of the eternal freeze that covered jarilo-vi

however, that was merely a facade, one that was pretty much mandatory as the captain of the silvermane guards and part of the royal family of belobog

it was only his public image, one that he showed to the people of belobog. you fell for it at first, being quite intimidated by the reputation that preceded him far and wide

but oh, then he developed a soft spot for you and it's so so so obvious that even the people of belobog notice it lol

yes they might notice it but they will never actually get to see the softie he is around you and he r e a l l y is soft for you

will go to his sister serval for advice in the beginning because as tough as he may seem he is actually quite insecure regarding this matter and just wants to do it well

and he is such a sweetheart??

special little smiles only for you, watching him utter out compliments and sweet nothings while he's trying to hide how very flustered he is even more so when you are the one calling him cute names and stuff

not afraid to show you off when the two of you are walking around belobog during his free time, always holding your hand and all

gets beet red every time serval teases him and that happens a lot – which is super adorable; seeing such a tall and tough guy all blushy, you can't help but coo at it which makes it even worse for the poor male

i wouldn't necessarily say he's super cuddly, he's more casual when it comes to that? like he loves it when you snuggle up against him and he won't hesitate to wrap his arm around you and hold you close but going all tiny and cuddly? that's just not him ig but he loves it when you get all clingy around him and he'll reward you with the cutest smile

but really, he has his own ways of showing that he's super into you. for instance, the fact that he's gepard around you instead of captain landau

#hsr #honkai star rail #honkai #honkai dan heng #honkai star rail dan heng #dan heng #dan heng hsr #hsr dan heng #honkai gepard #honkai gepard landau #gepard #gepard landau #hsr gepard #gepard hsr #gepard honkai #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #gepard landau x reader #— enyo writes

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explainslowly · 1 month ago

Text

Thought it would be fun to do a little Fic Director's Commentary

And then @autisticandroids said I should do Finer things... so here you go...

Dean Winchester always loved the ladies, and the ladies always seemed to love him back. And since he’s such a giver, he doesn’t mind passing the know-how along to the less fortunate.

You know, this line has enough of a self-ironic tongue-in-cheek quality to be almost ooc except Dean is kind of sincere about it, in my mind. The opening line is also sort of mimicking the one-two punch of Dean Winchester Beat Sheet gay Dean tag + opening insane het sex scene. Me when I lie <3

Sam declines Dean’s invitation for a pub crawl with a sour face and then pointedly retires to his own room a few doors down the hall. He can be very squeamish about these things, so Dean is perfectly fine with not being subjected to his running commentary as he teaches Cas to score, Dean Winchester style.

Please imagine being Sam and your insane brother trying to include you in his weird ass sex life where he makes his boyfriend flirt with women for his own titilation. Dean is sort of living in plausible deniality space, here. Well, in his mind. Sam is pretty clear on what is happening.

In the privacy of their room, Dean concentrates on getting Cas ready. Maybe Cas could use a second set of clothes, but there is something so charming about his cheap suit and creeper trench coat. That said, Dean won’t let him go to a bar looking like that.

“Lose the coat and jacket.”

I hope I'm not the only one who thinks it's so hot when Dean plays with Cas like he's his personal dress up doll.

Cas undresses without protest and once he is down to his dress shirt, Dean steps closer and unties the knot, slides the tie from Cas’ neck, the silk sighing softly as it brushes against the cotton of the shirt, Cas’ eyes tightly following the trajectory of Dean’s fist. His breath hitches and he grabs for Dean’s hips, but Dean shakes him off.

So this is like, porn writing to me? Or at least one kind of porn writing - focusing on sensory information and sensuality. Touch, sound, things like that.

“Focus, angel,” Dean keeps his tone light and quietly basks in the effect the word has - Cas shivers, stands taller and keeps his arms loose by his sides. Eager to obey.

Shout out to B autisticandroids for saying "Dean says angel as a pet name but Cas hears 'soldier'".

Dean contemplates their plans. Cas has a lot going on, it’s just a question of making chicks take notice. He sinks his fingers into Cas’ soft hair, taking his time reshaping it until it’s fluffy, until it makes you want to grab and pull. Cas’ eyes are burning, trying to catch Dean’s, the intensity stoking the fire in Dean’s belly.

��If you look at whatever chick we find for you the same way, you’re gonna score for sure, buddy.”

Cas narrows his eyes and whines “Dean…”, a note of complaint audible.

I think I probably could have also tagged this fic as edging lmao. Part of like, the rare concept of dom Dean is that he gets enjoyment and a feeling of power from denying Cas. It's not a game I think Dean plays often bc he tends to think of himself as something for other's consumption. Alternatively, he denies things because he thinks they are not allowed. So denying Cas so playfully here lends the fic a really sweet tone, to me.

“You’ve done so well last time, buddy. Almost there, I can tell.” As expected, the praise cuts any protests short and Cas settles back into being maneuvered by Dean, looking pleased to be handled. Dean undoes the first two buttons on his shirt, and then starts rolling up his shirtsleeves. Cas’ arms are striking, well-toned and covered in dark hair and Dean can’t resist dragging his hand over his forearm, settling at the wrist and squeezing.

“You have to show off your assets.”

Cas cocks his head to the side “My assets?”

“You know,” Dean gesticulates broadly at all of him “like your arms. Put them on the bar, lean in, really let her look. Drives chicks crazy.”

Dean knows what drives chicks crazy. Insert Dean gender implications.

“I see.”

Dean grins and gets a barely perceptible smile from Cas in return. There is something nostalgic about giving out advice. It makes Dean feel smart and cool in a way he hadn’t in ages, maybe ever since Sam stopped looking at him with pure wonder in his eyes and started questioning everything about their family.

Wincest moment. I jest, I jest. But I do think Dean is sufficiently family-pilled that he runs all his relationships either through the "this is like being Sam's brother" or "this is like being Dad's son" filter because those are like. The two relationships he had growing up. Currently Cas is getting the Sammy treatment.

Cas doesn’t question Dean’s wisdom, he listens. And listen he should, because he has a lot to learn - Cas doesn't at all know how to be a guy, and that is a dangerous thing not to know. He is real lucky to have Dean perching on his metaphorical shoulder.

There is a hint of anxiety to this for sure, that Dean is processing underneath it all. He's at least a little scared about Cas being so visibly gay. Even though he likes it.

They arrive at the swanky bar well into the evening, a place Dean chose both for its largely non threatening male population and for ladies who don’t seem to possess very high standards.

They grab a beer and settle in and not even ten minutes have passed and already Dean has noticed a woman looking in their direction. Of course, there is always a possibility she is actually checking out Dean, but it is worth the risk.

“Your six o’clock, hot lady checking you out.”

“It’s nine pm, Dean.”

“No, jesus. I mean, uh, behind you.”

Amusing myself by Cas not understanding colloquialisms.

Cas turns around with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Dean can see the lady raising her eyebrows at them, so he winks at her. She seems like a businesswoman, dressed tidy and clean, probably an empty bed and a cat or two at home. She should eat Cas right up.

“Yes, she is looking in our direction,” Cas confirms after turning back.

“Yes, great job Cas, very subtle.” He squeezes his shoulder. “Go for her, Casanova, I believe in you. And remember: less creepy staring, more sexy glowering.”

“Of course,” Cas says magnanimously and off he goes. They have been at this for a few weeks now and Cas had mostly shed his initial nervousness. That diminished Dean’s fun a little, even though he feels pretty proud of himself for getting Cas there. He could probably get him all nervous again if he switched up the scenario somehow, but for now he leans back and watches Cas join the lady at the bar - she seems pleased enough to see him and Dean licks his lips, already imagining how he will reward Cas for succeeding.

Again this is a dom Dean fic. I don't broadly subscribe to daddy dom Dean interpretations but there are scenarios... In this case it is about being Older brother cool guy but also just that Dean really enjoys putting Cas in little situations and watching him flounder. He's so endlessly charmed by him.

Cas says something and the lady laughs. Already as good as hooked, if she thinks Cas is funny, or at least cares enough to pretend. He watches her watch Cas with hunger and yeah, the ladies can appreciate his assets, all right. She is pretty - not porn pretty, but regular sort of next-door by way of yoga class and frappuccinos pretty.

Dean wants to see Cas touch her. He clasps his hands together and whispers to himself "As I lay me down to sleep, I pray Castiel my soul to keep. You should touch her elbow - slowly and look for her reaction".

This idea came to me as a bolt of lighting. Dean should be using prayer telepathy for sexual reasons <3

He sees Cas twitch and then lean in, smoothly placing his palm over her elbow. The lady laughs, licks her lips, narrows the space between them. Cas' huge palm encircles the delicate crook of her arm and Dean has to drag his jacket over his crotch so that the whole pub can't see him chubbing up.

To be clear Dean is aroused by Cas being Succesfully Heterosexual, but he is also very much imagining himself in that woman's position, for reasons he will simply not be examining in this fic <3 I was not aiming for a trans woman Dean reading here, but to me, Dean always has gender going, no matter what.

Cas is good at maintaining physical closeness without being threatening - there’s something harmless about him, something almost innocent Dean thinks, and the chicks eat it up.

Personally I think Dean's read on Cas is insane and maybe a little offensive but also he's obsessed with his little guy. Make of that what you will.

Cas whispers something into the woman’s ear and she smiles, Dean mimicking her facial expression involuntarily.

He's so normal <3

It’s good - let everyone know that Cas is a ladies’ man, a real specimen of his sex, worthy of respect.

Again - a sense of underlying anxiety mixing itself with Dean thinking it's hot that Cas is being a Straight Guy.

It settles Dean into a pleasurable state of anticipation - his charge on his way to success and he himself seated comfortably with a beer in his hand and free to observe and savor him - the bar is lit up in cold light, modern. It flatters Cas’ features well, tones the blue of his eyes almost electric.

This is a reference to the visual style (especially the color grading) of season 4, btw.

Dean sips his beer and casually moves the jacket over his lap, allowing himself a brief moment of friction, and then settles in again, letting the want build under his skin.

The space this fic is playing in is one where it's debatable whether Dean likes to actually get off, but he really really likes being aroused and sitting with it.

Almost too soon, the woman is reaching into her bag, producing a scrap of paper and a pen. She writes the number down and gives it to Cas and Cas kisses her softly on the cheek, lips just barely brushing her skin - Dean observes the way she squeezes Cas’ wrist, red nails a sharp contrast against his pale skin.

Again Dean's kind of putting himself in her place, is kind of aroused by like, the signifiers of feminity...

Cas returns to their table, slight curl to his lip that is his equivalent of a rockstar grin. He hands the paper to Dean and their fingers brush, electric.

“Good job, buddy.”

Dean sets the paper down on the table without committing the number to memory, a successful conquest its own reward.

I did feel kind of bad for the lady, writing this...

“Ok, so here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m going to snatch up the last stall in the men’s room, and in ten minutes, you’re going to join me there. Try not to be super obvious about it.”

“Yes, Dean.”

Dean taps the scrap of paper with the lady’s phone number, “good job.”

He walks away, not even needing to look back to know that Cas is watching him all the way until he turns the corner.

The wait in the stall itself is excruciating - Dean squeezes his cock through jeans and listens for footsteps. They come in, confident at first but then falter in awkwardness before stopping at his stall. He opens the door and drags Cas in, Cas’ hands immediately seeking his hips. Now that Cas has made contact, he can’t seem to stop touching Dean - his wide palms roaming Dean’s body aimless and warm. Dean lets Cas give him a kiss on the cheek and then maneuvers him against the wall of the bathroom - pushing Cas away and sinking to his knees. He unbuttons Cas’ pants and pushes his cheek against Cas’ palm - he looks up. Cas is staring at him, so serious and solemn as always.

Cas is so puppy in this fic... pure force of horniness aimed at Dean, being disciplined and coralled by him... I think that's the core of the Cas side of this dynamic. He doesn't have to worry about his own desires, because Dean is fully in charge of them and doling out pleasure as a reward.

“You have to be quiet, yeah?”

I feel like Dean is too germophobe neurotic boy to blow Cas in a pub bathroom but he's doing it FOR ME.

Cas nods and runs his finger through Dean’s hair, scratching his scalp lightly and Dean shivers.

He pulls Cas’ cock out of his underwear and sucks it down, still only semi-hard. He is in no hurry, keeping it in his mouth and sucking softly, enjoying the way it fills out gradually. Cas smells like himself and the laundry powder Dean washes his clothes with, and the shower gel Dean buys in bulk, Dean inhales deeply through his nose and feels a deep sense of reassurance.

Mommy kink moment. Dean looooves the sense of control he gets from being in a caretaker position.

The hard tile is painful against his knees, but there is nowhere he would rather be - he’s so pleased and proud. Cas has the ladies wrapped around his little finger and it’s all thanks to Dean. In this little world of their own, Dean luxuriates in the feeling of soft skin in his mouth, in the taste that is Cas. Bobs his head, watches Cas swallow moans and look down in wonder, flushed and overcome with sensation. Dean did that too.

Again, this fic has such a sweet tone to me... like obviously Dean is kind of unhinged but you know, he has built up a set of parameters that allow him to be sweet to Cas...

Dean can tell Cas won’t last long - he sticks his hand into Cas’ underwear, brushing his fingers through the bristly hair, feeling the weight of Cas’ balls against his palm. He pushes the pads of his fingers against the muscle behind them, rubs the rim of Cas’ asshole. Cas’ hand tightens in Dean’s hair and he comes, filling up Dean’s mouth.

Honestly could have done a bigger focus on the sensory information here - you only get the hair and the weight here. I do like to imagine that, though :3

Dean swallows what he can and wipes the rest off with his thumb. He lets Cas slip out and then leans his cheek against Cas’ thigh, watching his dick grow soft. He grips Cas’ ankle lightly and rubs his thumb against the delicate bone, plans what challenge to present Cas with next.

When he doesn't get his dick out <3 I do want to say here that this fic was inspired by Life Skills - which is a fic about Dean and Cas fucking women because they want to fuck each other but Dean is being repressed. I was interested in exploring Dean as someone who has a circuitous approach to sex with Cas for many nebulous reasons that are not easily solved. This fic is not clear on how openly Dean is dating Cas but in my mind they wouldn't stop doing this even if Dean was openly calling Cas his boyfriend and holding his hand in public or whatever. Having sex this way fulfills multiple functions for Dean and Cas really doesn't mind - he primarily cares about being the center of Dean's attention, which he absolutely is, here.

#spn rewatch for your blacklist #my fic #directors commentary

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brightdarkness-2013 · 5 months ago

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Summary:

It was difficult to make out with the rain pouring down on me so I crept closer. If it was another opossum I was going to be pissed. Those things had been ripping open bags of garbage for us to clean up in the morning. And it wasn’t enough to rip it open, they were practically tossing it around the yard.

Chapter 1: Opossum?

The rain that I had foolishly hoped would be gone by the time that our show was over had decided that it would not only stick around, but simply pour harder. And as we stared out at it, instruments over our shoulders and held closely in our hands, we knew that there would be no escaping mother nature’s wrath today. No matter how long we waited. A sigh left my lips. The sun that had shone brightly all day had not bothered to hint at this outcome. Five percent chance of rain my ass.

“I really wish that I brought an umbrella. Or had the sense to bring the case for this thing.” Blaster spoke up next to me, his bass shifting from his shoulder to be held to his chest in preparation.

“You and me both.”

I had no doubt that Ray was going to be calling a cab to keep his keyboard safe. That was a smart idea, but the fact that I didn’t live too far from here would make it a bit of a waste. Blaster on the other hand didn’t live quite so close to this place.

“You seriously gonna walk it?”

“I’m debating.”

“May as well come home with me then.”

“That’d be good.”

“Streets are flooded.”

“Yep.”

“We could get a cab.”

“We could.”

“Are we?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Smart people would.”

“I know.”

Neither of us moved. We both knew that we were just stalling. But we kept it up anyway. We hadn’t a clue how long it would last for. Sure when it pours hard it doesn’t last very long, however there was no telling how long it would go for with how dark the sky was. It could be a few minutes or an hour more. The street lights were hazy orbs in the distance and without the moons light it was quite dark. Wanting to get it over with I bolted out from under our cover and calling out quickly.

“See you at home!”

“You’re going to slip and die!” Came the answering call.

I kept my head down as I ran as if that would somehow protect me from the rain. I silently counted at each corner. One block. Two. Three. I was going to be drenched by the time I reached home and I was going to be so happy to step into a warm shower before bed. A rumble of thunder overhead. Another block. When I finally turned to run up the stairs and into my apartment I paused, nearly slipping and falling into the mud. Under the wooden staircase where my downstairs neighbors and I left our trash bins was a white creature. It was difficult to make out with the rain pouring down on me so I crept closer. If it was another opossum I was going to be pissed. Those things had been ripping open bags of garbage for us to clean up in the morning. And it wasn’t enough to rip it open, they were practically tossing it around the yard. When I caught it in the act it had the gaul to play dead like I hadn’t even seen it. Then when I tried to shoo it away it snarled at me and bolted. Our attempts at catching it never panned out so we tended to throw things at it hoping that it would get the hint that it wasn’t wanted. It hadn’t been seen in a few weeks thankfully.

Cautiously I bent down to peer into the space between the bins. It was a cat. Skinny and covered in dirt. Its paws were almost black with mud. Well shit. What was I supposed to do with that? Should I just leave it? Feral cats were dangerous and very rarely did domestication work out. The least I could do was give it something to eat. I had some leftover chicken from the other night. A little bit of that should do. I withdrew from the unconscious animal and moved up the stairs and into the top part of the home that had been remodeled into two separate apartments. I took a second to set my guitar down on the couch and wonder whether or not I should heat up the chicken in the microwave or leave it cold. Glancing out side I decided that having a warm meal would do more good. Thirty seconds in the microwave it was.

As I headed down the stairs I blinked and looked up as the rain ceased. Well how about that? I kneeled before the creature and set the small dish down. The little ting that it made on gravel made it jolt out of whatever restless doze it was in. The cat hissed at me, deep ice blue eyes staring me down. When I made no move it bolted behind and around the recycling bin before escaping over the fence and into the next yard. I breathed a sigh and left the dish there in case it came back. The following afternoon revealed that something had eaten the free meal. I really hoped it wasn’t that fucking opossem.

I had taken to leaving food out for it and each time I came out to take the dish all of it was gone. Then one evening I saw the cat again. It stood at the side of the shared garage and stared. So it was the cat that was taking the meal. Thank God. I walked forward a few steps and set the small bowl of ham down and stepped back. I sat on the steps when it made no move. We simply sat there and watched each other for a long while. Then it took a step forward. Then another. Slowly it approached and ate. It never took its eyes off of me so I did the same. Then when it finished it disappeared into the night. I wasn’t sure, but was this what it was like to bond with a cat? I’d have to ask Blaster.

---------------------------------------------------------

I ran through the storm in search of shelter. The past few months had not been fruitful when it came to food or luck. Larger beasts had moved into my home forcing me to find another. I had no desire to fight something that was so much larger than I. Creatures my own size were trouble enough. Unfortunately that also meant that my previous hunting and scavenging grounds were no longer options either. With no other choice I moved on. My search found me nothing but more trouble. I was chased out of others territory. Challenged as it was believed that my intrusion was on purpose.

I hurt. My stomach was empty. I wanted nothing more than to rest, but this storm had proved my temporary shelter wasn’t good enough. So I ran and squeezed into the first dry space I came across. It was damp, but it was far better than being under the full weight of the storm. Cold and exhausted I lay to rest and wait out the storm.

I was ripped from my sleep by a foreign sound. I backed further into my shelter and glared at the threat. A large predator. One species that roamed the lands as far as the eye could see. The scent of food had filled the area as I came to a sudden conclusion. It lived here. I had made an awful mistake. Using the nearest escape route I fled, thankful the rain had ceased at least. I hid and listened as it finally moved. But it didn’t give chase. I peeked through gaps in my hiding place. It went up and disappeared, leaving the food to waste.

Well if it was going to leave it there unguarded then I would take it and teach it a lesson. Leaving your meals unguarded was stupid. However my lessons weren’t going through it seemed. Each night it left its catch unguarded and each night I’d claim it. It was pathetic. No matter how much I took it never learned. I’d have to give it a more obvious lesson. So one night as it left its food I made myself obvious. It watched me and then sat down. It Watched me. It didn’t seem to be connecting the dots yet so I moved toward it slowly. One step at a time. Trying to get it to understand. But it didn’t even move when I started eating. With my meal finished I disappeared into the bushes.This lesson didn’t even phase it. What was wrong with it? Did no one teach it anything on how to survive. I couldn’t very well leave it on its own like this. It would starve. Looks like finding a new home was going to have to be put off for awhile.

Mastesrpost

#brightdarkness #fanfic #cat!prowl!#simplycatprowl #jazz #transformers #prowl #transformers prowl #transformers jazz #catprowl #meow

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sleepingasimdead · 5 months ago

Text

This post covers two topics. First, the common types of "magic books" and second my personal advice for when making your own. The "read more" includes a link to a tutorial and the amino post I am quoting myself from.

Books of Shadows, Grimoires, & Books of Mirrors

Modernly these terms are often used interchangeably for personal spellbooks/witchcraft based journals; however, originally they had three distinct meanings.

I originally read about the differences in my moms older books circa late 80s - late 90s.

Books of Shadows:

First, the term you are likely to encounter most often. A Book of Shadows (BoS) was originally specifically a Wiccan term in reference to a shared book containing spells, rituals, basic theory, and associations. It was meant to be used as a reference and teaching tool between a Coven as well as a place to record Coven specific practices. Usually, the High Priest(ess) would look after, control what is added to, and control who has access to this book. It was not shared with people outside of the Coven and was considered a sacred object. With the rise of solitary practice valued over Coven based practice, the term has lost its Coven, and often Wiccan, associations.

Grimoires:

Next, Grimoire was originally in reference to a personal book of spells, theory, and associations that had a textbook or cookbook tone of writing. This term is older and doesn’t have religious connotations and is usually used as a reference or teaching tool. This was basically a Witches recipe book. However, it was still usually in a more neutral to formal format.

Books of Mirrors:

Lastly, a Book of Mirrors. This term is not as popular as the other two despite, modernly, being what many people have and are actually referencing when they say BoS. The term is in reference to a journal outlining or recording a person’s experiences and path in relation to witchcraft. This book was highly personal but was not required to be kept secret.

As mentioned before, these terms are modernly used interchangeably due to people just having one book that is more of a mix of all three. They range from a fancy homemade leatherbound book to a cheap planner, there are no specific rules on their construction or what a Practitioner puts in them and not everyone calls their Witchcraft book by any of these terms.

It is usually a very personal item, and so each person has their own rules for it. There are many theories behind the item ranging from it being sacred and having magic of its own to its significance being rooted more in a personal nature.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Dead's Advice for When You are Making Your Grimoire, Book of Shadows, Book of Mirrors, and/or Magical Tome(s)

The Materials

As tempting as buying a really pretty stylized notebook is, they simply rarely work well if what you want is equally stylized pages. They are too easy to mess up, misplace, run out of space, and tend to be expensive.

Instead try binders + laminate pockets. Binders allow you to remove and reorganize pages. This eliminates the pressure of making the page perfect the first time and lets you remove out of date info with ease. Stylizing is made so much easier when you can safely remove pages.

Not to mention the pockets allow for you to include things like pressed plants with 0 risk of destroying your whole book thanks to rot, protect your pages from water damage, and make making "secret pages" much easier, allows you to make pages digitally first. You can personalize binders with fabric, paper machete, cardboard, hot glue, wood, clay, etc.

Personally, I made 3 "book sleeve bags" out of scrap leather and fabric that allow me to switch up the style and determine how many pockets are necessary that day. On top of just making an embroidered cover and gluing it to the cover of the binder.

The Writing

• Always write full notes before you even open your book and then condense the info like you would if you were rewriting notes for test/exam purposes to act as your Rough Draft.

• Don't use hard to read/made up script unless you are fluent in it. Elsewise the book becomes 20× harder to actually use.

• Make a laminate sheet for base "step by step" sheets for things like sigils or spellmaking and pair with dry erase to make it easier on the environment when you make new ones. Then if they work give them their own page.

• Try to keep one topic / subtopic to a couple of pages and succinct.

The Art

• Do any motifs or small artwork first and then use a tracing method to add to your book so that it can be consistent.

• Section out space on the page for large artwork/diagrams before writing, but don't do them until after you have written your text.

• Try using tracing paper / see-through sticky notes for any 3d diagrams. Diagrams as watermarks are also a good idea. Or if you don't intend to make a Symbarium section you can make them into watermarks as well.

• Don't be afraid to "hide" diagrams behind things like stickinotes + flaps to mixinmize possible text.

OG Amino Post:

http://aminoapps.com/p/dltsku

Below is a quick tutorial video on making fabric covers with handles that I actually used myself (although I adjusted my measurements to fit a large binder). However, tbh you can find quite a few on youtube, as well as tutorials on making your own binder.

youtube

#grimoire #book of shadows #witchcraft #witchblr #paganism #Youtube

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qqueenofhades · 2 years ago

Note

ok fix-it time hilary you can do this i believe in you

prompt is a classic one--Aziraphale runs after Crowley after the "i forgive you" "don't bother" exchange OR the kiss does magically work like Crowley hoped

no i am not using english grammar and spelling today my feelings are too strong

Aha. Well, I wrote this fic yesterday, but it... might not entirely qualify as fix-it. My bad. To make it up, I offer you this: technically not either of the suggested scenarios, but still something to salve the pain, set at the end of Season 3 or thereabouts.

The late afternoon light is still and weighty: golden, heavy, purposeful, the sort of light that takes up space, that polishes floorboards and sets dust motes drifting, settles on the backs of furniture and the pages of books like a sleeping cat. The sort of light that fills the room almost tangibly, that stripes the bed and spills off it to the floor like too much olive oil poured into an amphora, back in the hot white heat of the Holy Land. Since he is, of course, a being of pure light, Aziraphale can feel it in his sinews, in the core of his soul, but it almost seems... wrong. Not the light itself, but that he's still allowed to touch it. He doesn't know if he's Fallen or not, or if such trite distinctions even matter. He only knows this. Them. Now.

Aware that it is incumbent upon him to start the conversation, he clears his throat and looks at Crowley, sprawled out on the bed with a fair show of his old insouciance, but Aziraphale can sense the fragility behind the flippant smile. Crowley's black-clad legs are jauntily crossed, his shoes kicked off, his hair a particularly vibrant red against the little-used, age-yellowed lace of the pillow cover; this bed, after all, doesn't get much use in the traditional sense. Aziraphale's preferred human vice is food, not sleep, though he knows Crowley is very good at it and might have to teach him a thing or two about that, about rest. He craves it, but he doesn't know where to begin. That seems applicable to any number of things right now, but he has to start somewhere, he supposes. He just doesn't know.

"Er," Aziraphale says at last, to Crowley's increasingly-strained expectant expression. "My dear, I... I am..."

He bites his tongue. He's rarely been in this position before, knowing that he's the one who needs desperately to ask for forgiveness -- real forgiveness -- and not at all certain that it will actually be granted. It's always seemed so slick, so easy, something to toss off as easily and unthinkingly as the humans say bless you when someone sneezes, and carrying about the same spiritual or emotional depth. Aziraphale feels mortifyingly ashamed of it, of himself. He shuffles his feet, twisting the hem of his waistcoat between his fingers. At last, to the carpet, he says, "I'm so very, very sorry. I've been an absolutely dreadful ninny, and I don't... I don't know if you can forgive me, but..."

"Angel." Crowley's voice is rough. "Bloody look at me, would you?"

Half-fearing to be dissolved by infernal hellfire on the spot, but knowing that he deserves it, Aziraphale looks up.

It's hard to read Crowley's expression, even more than usual. The glasses are off, but his slitted amber eyes are opaque, careful, wary, not quite sure what this is or what's going to come of it. The dead-silent moments that follow, as he weighs up his options, are among the very worst of Aziraphale's entire unending life. Then Crowley fractionally shifts his weight, opening up a spot on the bed next to him, a silent invitation. He doesn't say anything. Using their words tends to backfire tremendously, even if they need to get used to it. He just looks. He just waits.

After all this time, after everything, Aziraphale finally doesn't hesitate. In fact, he almost trips over himself as he blunders across the floor, falls onto the squeaking old mattress, and clambers into Crowley's arms. Crowley wraps them both around him with fierce, ferocious, furious strength, pulling Aziraphale down next to him, Aziraphale's softer, rounder corporal form fitting neatly into the hard lines and lean angles of Crowley's. Aziraphale rests his head on the bare triangle of throat where Crowley's shirt is unbuttoned, burrows his face into the sharp cleanness of Crowley's collarbone, and becomes belatedly, embarrassingly aware that he's crying. It seems beneath the dignity of a (possibly-ex?) Principality, but he doesn't think he can stop. He just wants to lie here and clutch onto Crowley for literally dear life, to mourn for all the time they've missed, for the simple, unbearable, shocking, agonizing, perfectly exquisite pleasure of holding his love close. "I'm so sorry," he says again, struggling not to let his voice crack too extravagantly. "Dreadful ninny. Absolutely dreadful."

"You were doing what you thought was right. What you needed to do to stop the Apocalypse, just... differently." Crowley's voice turns distant, his fingers absently stroking Aziraphale's hair. It feels strange and shocking and quite, quite lovely. "Can't really tell you off for that, can I? After all, I'm a demon. What do I know about doing good?"

"Hush," Aziraphale says, primly and a little watery. "Now you know that's not true."

Crowley lifts his head and regards Aziraphale for a long moment. He doesn't answer, just thinks about it. "All right," he allows, at deliberate length. "Maybe a little. I'm still very mad at you, though."

"I do understand." Aziraphale nestles again, and Crowley doesn't stop him. "But perhaps, even if I have no real right to ask it, you can... you might... one day think about... f-forgiving me?"

His voice trembles and squeaks. It takes all the courage in him, even more than when he stood up to the full hosts of Heaven and told them no, no more, not ever again, but he looks Crowley in the eye. He tries not to look too expectant, or too arrogant. He waits.

Crowley, for his part, looks mildly flabbergasted. He makes one of those incoherent nnngh noises that he resorts to whenever he finds himself at a loss for words, and shakes his head. "Idiot," he says, very softly. "Of course I bloody forgive you. Of course. Now if you -- "

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. That's because Aziraphale likewise screws up every drop of courage, takes hold of Crowley's collar, and lowers his head, terrified that he's about to muck it up. But Crowley just looks at him like he's luminous, like the light is still in him and he is the light itself, and tips his head just that bit, in order to settle their lips together.

The kiss is long and slow, soft and sweet. Crowley's hand flutters up to rest in the wild white tufts of Aziraphale's hair, and Aziraphale -- somewhat in terrified awe at his own daring -- nibbles experimentally on Crowley's lip. He's quite bad at it, but neither of them care, or can think about anything else, or do anything but heave short sharp breaths, half-laughs, muffled sobs. When they finally pull apart, Aziraphale says anxiously, "I hope it wasn't very awful?"

"Oh." Crowley's eyes are half-lidded, and in the sunlight, he too looks as if he is burning like a beacon, brighter than his favorite stars. The affection in his voice is greater than the wings of heaven or the reaches of hell, the heights of the sky or the depths of the sea, and his smile outshines them all. "Absolutely terrible."

#daisyyydaisyyydaisyyy #ask #good omens #good omens s2 #good omens spoilers #ish #ineffable husbands #good omens ff

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redheadspark · 1 year ago

Note

Can we get #15 for September prompts w Jack Russell and fem reader?

A/N - Thanks for requesting this, Anon!

Tend

Summary - You know how to tend to Jack when he needs it the most.

Warnings - Just some fluff :)

“Jack? You in here honey?”

At first, your heard nothing in your tiny home, the lights were dimmed in the living room and the fire in the fireplace barely had any live flames in it. You saw the duffle bag that he would use for his Lycanthropy tossed on the loveseat couch in front of you, already opened with some things ruffled about inside. It was giving you a small red flag in your mind, maybe thinking that his last session out in the woods did not go well.

He texted you earlier that day that he was on his way back, not giving you a clear sign that things went great or horrible. Usually in his tests, he would give you one or two sentences, but this one was only a handful of short words. So you knew then that something was wrong. But of course, he said nothing else in his text, making you worry over him the rest of the day while you were at work.

Now that you were home, you were going to check in on him.

“Jack?” You called again, placing your purse on the kitchen counter and looking around for any signs of harm or danger. But there was none, and now you were more confused.

“Amor?” You heard a tentative voice in the direction of the bedroom down the hallway. It wasn’t an urgent tone, nor was it casual and laid back. It seemed more drained, almost uneven as you walked down the hallway instantly to the source of the voice. Pushing the bedroom door open, you froze at the sight and you grinned from ear to ear.

Jack, in a small little ball, under the blankets on your massive bed.

“Oh, Jack,” You hummed, closing the door behind you and toeing off your shoes as Jack’s head was poking up from being under the blankets. His hair was disheveled and his face already looked drained. You could truly tell that he was out of it, even with his eyes looking a bit glazed over and his breath sounding off, “What happened?”

“It was exhausting,” he sighed as you sat on the side of the bed, reaching out to run your fingers in his hair to bring him some sense of comfort, Although you could tell he had no energy left in him, he was still looking rather adorable under the covers and looking at you with his puppy dog eyes. Jack always looked innocent enough and nonthreatening, his eyes and the smile alone made him seem like such a model citizen. And he was when he wasn’t transforming into a werewolf or hunting monsters around the world. To you, he had such an old soul trapped in his own body that made him youthful and kind to others. Jack can make the most mundane action look so innocent.

Like now, being under the covers.

“I have more energy left in me after taking down that monster,” He admitted as you were still caressing his hair, “The client was glad though that I did the job, and we have enough money for the vacation we both wanted,”

“We could have gone on the vacation without that money, Jack.” You reminded him soothingly, “So now that you’re done with that job, you get to have some sleep, okay? Did you shower yet?”

“Was too tired to shower,” Jack grumbled as you chuckled.

“I’ll get a shower going and make you some tea. You find some comfy pajamas and get ready for the shower, use that lavender salts that I got you, got it?” You asked him, seeing him smile and nod his head while you pushed yourself up from the bed. Shrugging off your jacket to hang, you walked into the bathroom and got the water running. After that, you made it to the kitchen to get the kettle going and fish out the right tea bag for Jack.

There were times when he could come home with a pep in his step, the job going very well and plenty of softies to tell you. Other times they went south, Jack sporting a new cut or bruise here and there and really not wishing to talk about it. You were willing to give him space when he needed space, and you held out your arms when you knew he needed a hug. All you could do was trust that Jack would not push himself over the edge.

Once the water was boiling and the tea bag was already taken effect in the mug, you made your way back to the bedroom to see Jack coming out of the shower in fresh pajamas, looking 10 times better. He saw you with the mug in hand, breaking out into a grin as you handed it to him.

“Drink, it’s your favorite,” You urged him as you both walked back to the bed. Both you and Jack sat side by side against the headboard, you draped the blankets over the pair of you as he was taking small sips from the still-hot tea. You could breathe in the lavender salt on his skin, feeling a bit better that he was now taking care of himself.

“Tell me about your day?” Jack asked you as you rested your head on his shoulder. You giggled as he smiled, “What, I wish to know what was going on at work?”

“Compared to what you went through this past weekend? It’s a bit mundane, don’t you think?” You asked him back as he rolled his eyes.

“I like hearing about your work, helps me take a break from what I go through with monsters,” He admitted as he reached down to lace your arms together, his fingers tracing shapes along your skin. You loved that about Jack, how he would wish to hear all about your office desk job and the office drama that happened. When you would ask about his monster hunting job, he wouldn’t want to give too many details because of how graphic it would be. So for him to want to hear about your boss, and co-workers, it both surprised you and made your day at the same time.

“Well Sara, the co-worker I told you about, she’s actually seeing some new guy…” You were explaining some of the new gossip with Jack while he was sipping his tea, listening to every word you were saying, and staying attentive. You could sense he was getting sleepy as you were telling your story, but you knew he wasn’t going to have you stop then and there. So you went on, noticing how he was finishing his tea and placing the mug on the nightstand before his eyes were starting to droop.

Finally, after another good 15 minutes of chatting together and talking about the upcoming weekend, You and Jack finally went to sleep. There was no more exhaustion on his face, just the simple need of slumber on his cheeks and being his eyelids as he wrapped you in his arms and you both were out cold within a minute of the lights being turned off.

The End

September Prompt Session

#jack russell x reader #jack russell x female reader #werewolf by night #werewolf by night fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #marvel cinematic universe fan fiction #marvel mcu #marvel #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu phase 4

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bethelctpride · 1 year ago

Text

Accessibility site checklist

I was on a panel this weekend about logistics for Pride celebrations and was specifically doing the part about accessibility. This is the checklist I use for a site visit beforehand.

This is used to prep two things

a FAQ about the site

a list of things To Do before the event

The FAQ means that anybody on team has access to detailed information about site right away. We usually put the most common information right in the event announcement descriptions, but the less common ones might be a linked page or an "ask for details" if it's a complicated answer or involves something we had to address Day Of.

The To Do list is broken into two things, one, annoy the venue owner to fix and two, day of fixes. For example, the venue we use had a wheelchair ramp that went up to a heavy, manual pull door. Whomp whomp. So close to accessible! So every time I saw people involved in renovations for building, I annoyed them about the "how's that coming, that's gonna have a power assist, right?" and it FINALLY HAPPENED. But meantime, day of, we stationed a volunteer there that opened the door and answered wayfinding questions for people like "how do I get from here to the bathroom?" (there were signs we added as well, but that was the backup)

Sometimes if the site visit reveals too many problems, you should just pick a different venue!

This was set up as a two page, printable list for the event, but here's a GDOC where you can download a copy for yourself and add more things! Or just use it to make a FAQ about sites you're using. I can guarantee I missed some things that might be relevant for your particular disability because I don't know everything to look for. But it covers a lot of the most common things you need to know for a location! the GDOC allows comments if you want to suggest stuff I should look for.

Wheelchair checklist

If it passes on all counts for a wheelchair, it should also be fine for strollers, walkers, rollators, cane users, or crutch users.

Is there a ramp? If so, where is it? How do you get from this door to other points in the building? Is there signage showing how to do so?

Doors are power assist yes/no. If not, which direction do they open? Is there enough space for a wheelchair user to open the door and still have the chair on a stable surface? You need a 3’ X 3’ space to be able to turn a wheelchair.

Are all bathrooms accessible or only some? Make sure the sink and hand dryer are also reachable. Is there signage pointing to accessible restrooms?

Are thresholds raised more than a half inch yes/no (no is good)

Are tables or counters at a height accessible to wheelchair users?

How wide are the doorways? Note anything less than 32”. You may need an alternate route to get between spaces if they are smaller. Make sure to measure with the door open, to account for any problems fully opening the door.

Is there an elevator & is there signage pointing to it?

If a stage is in use, is it accessible?

Check outdoor surfaces are level and intact. Note surfaces other than asphalt/concrete. Cobble tends to be very difficult to travel over. If possible, observe when snow has fallen to see which surfaces are regularly cleared or not

Where is the curb cut and does it flood during heavy rain? Is it plowed?

For any temporary structures, find a weight limit. A power chair may weigh 1000 pounds with the user in it!

BATHROOMS

Is a gender neutral or family restroom available? Does directional signage point to it when you enter an area?

Can the door be operated one handed or by someone in a wheelchair?

How high is the sink? Can it be used by a wheelchair user or child?

Where is the changing table and is it clearly labeled where it is?

Is there any seating in the bathroom?

Are menstrual products available?

Is there an emergency pull cord in the bathroom? Make sure the cord is NOT tied to the grab bar and reaches the floor!

TRANSPORTATION

How close is this to a public transit stop? Does the transit run during the event?

What is the condition of the sidewalk between the transit stop and venue? Check curb cuts and condition of surfaces. Check for obstacles that may make the sidewalk too narrow for a wheelchair.

Is there signage by the transit stop pointing to your venue?

Is their signage at your venue pointing to the transit stop?

Do curb cuts at the venue have a different textured plate on them?

Where is handicapped parking compared to the entrance you are using? Is there signage by the parking indicating where the entrance is if it is not visible?

If there are multiple entrances to parking, is the one that leads to handicapped parking clearly labeled?

Is there a bike rack?

OTHER CONCERNS

Are there flashing lights some or all of the time?

Are there fluorescent lights? Can they be swapped for a different bulb type?

Is there background noise that makes hearing conversation difficult?

What type of flooring is in this venue? Hard or soft surface?

Are there sudden, intermittent loud noises?

Is food present here? Does the food contain any common allergens?

Are there any strong non-food scents associated with the venue?

Are non-service animals allowed or present?

Is alcohol served?

Are drugs of any type present?

Is there seating for anyone over 250lbs?

Is there secluded seating away from noise or general line of sight?

Is there a sharps container anywhere on site? Is there signage pointing to it?

Is there an AED on site? Where is it? Is there signage pointing to it?

Is there a first aid kit on site? Where is it? Is there signage pointing to it?

More about what some of these items MEAN, why they're here, and some of the solutions for common issues.

You may not from the wording here (where I had limited space) that there's no explanation of WHY this is here, or what you're supposed to do about it. Also some of this is not necessarily aimed at people with obvious disabilities, just people that may have trouble interacting with the environment for some reason.

Signage questions- a resource you can't find is USELESS. this is why there's so much emphasis on signage. Signage doesn't help folks that can't read the sign due to language barriers or sight troubles. You still may need humans stationed at confusing spots to answer questions for these folks.

Signs should be as CLEAR AS POSSIBLE. A black and white sign with foot tall letters that says PARKING and an arrow is way more effective than themed signage you can't read. Signs are to convey info. If theming interferes with conveying info, function wins.

Even a place that's overall good still may need additional day-of signage if you will have some areas blocked off or people enter from a direction other than the building designer planned for. Or if you have significant number of folks attending that speak a language other than that used on the venue's signage.

Bathrooms- a lot if covered under wheelchairs, but there's specific concerns here for other users. We solve the menstrual products problem by put a bag on the counter in every restroom with menstrual supplies AND basic first aid items.

You may be able to ignore the things related to children at age restricted events.

TRANSIT- if you can't get there to start with, it doesn't matter if the inside is accessible. if you're US based, a car might be a necessity, but if you have a choice between a venue by public transit vs one away from it,pick the one with transit. You just potentially opened up attendance to a lot of people that don't drive for some reason (disability, minors, economic). and advertise its by the transit!

OTHER CONCERNS- most of these are related to sensory processing issues. some of these you can solve day of with some noise reduction stuff or just offering earplugs on site. Some you just need to let people know "this is a thing" so they can make their own preparations ahead of time.

Sometimes just knowing there is an issue may mean someone doesn't attend... but it's better to know than come and leave due to a bad surprise. Focus on who your core group attending this event is and make sure they can use it.

sometimes you simply can't make it accessible to everyone due to conflicting access needs. The group that couldn't get full access this time gets to be the priority a different time. This is extremely frustrating for both organizers and attendees when there's a conflict, but sometimes all you can do is go "we see the conflict, we can't resolve it without prioritizing, so we are focusing on core group attending. We'll focus on your group at a different event where we can solve this issue."

Weight limit for seating. this is sometimes really hard to figure out, you may need to ask the venue owner about it. They may also never have considered it! this might become a permanent fix at site. It might be you bring in heavy duty temporary seating. if you rent seating, ask the rental place too!

sharps containers you may be able to obtain for free from your local health department. Ask! The last thing you want is someone coming into contact with a needle in the trash. It's better to have it and not need it, than have a problem.

#accessibility #event organizing #mobility aids #queer events #lgbtq events

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bluewavesofchange · 7 months ago

Text

The guardians of the Pharaoh

Sea and shadows: the Queens of the abyss

I don't own Yugioh or it's characters

Mentions of intense violence and blood. Have to say this has to be some of the gruesome I've ever written...hope you enjoy.

Chapter 2

Eons ago…

In a dark fortress that gloomed in the distance, a dark mist surrounding its parapets making it seem like a storm was hanging low on the structure. The land surrounding it was devoid of life, cracks decorating the ground like a crooked mosaic, the magic sucked from the depths to feed the magicians that roamed the area. The fortress carved out of black stone with purple flakes amongst the rock, thrumming like a slow heartbeat. Cages holding corpses and half dead creatures handing from the 6 towers surrounding the castle like building, their wails for freedom (whether for death or escape remained to be seen) filled the air as they were devoured alive by small raven like beasts with a hunger for flesh.

Down below was an open courtyard with different items used for training and magic filled the area, normally well-kept and pristine with everything in order as everyone tended to use this space and today was no exception as the sound of metal clanging, grunts and blasts of power filled the space. In the centre of the arena was a young girl no older than 13…she was wearing leather armour and long red hair was tied back in a loose pony tail. Her hands were cover in fine elegant markings and her fingers were blackened from magic use…this was Rozu…much older now and having done nothing but training since she was small. She was currently fighting off a group of warrior wizards, a special brand of fighter created by her father Lord Yomi who was standing on one the balconies watching his daughter.

He didn’t care much for her except for what she could do for him. He had hoped for a hybrid child, a creature that could match up to the Siren that fought on the side of the dragons and the warriors. He had thought that Rozu would be another disappointment, a weakling who would fall in battle like many of his other fighters…but she had shown some potential. Her proficiency in magic was…acceptable to say the least. She was able to use spells at an early age, able to summon even the smallest of shadows since the age of 5. The girl had potential but it needed to be trained and harnessed…to turn her into a dark lord like Yomi himself…and once she had used up her usefulness, he would devour her soul and gain her power.

Rozu had been at this for several hours now, since the moment she had woken up. Her muscles were aching and becoming stiff from the strenuous continuous movements as she swung her spear around at her opponents, either to pierce their flesh, slice at them or send blasts of dark energy at them. But even her magic was drained at this point. Her fathers’ training was relentless. He made her earn her right for food and water, she need to prove she deserved it and if she failed him in even the smallest way she would end up on the training grounds running drills till she collapsed from pure exhaustion and even then he would dump cold water on her to awaken her just so that she could get back to training.

She didn’t understand why she was doing all this. Her father had always been secretive about his motives…never speaking to her and simply giving her commands on what to do. He never even taught her personally, he delegated that to his second in command. He always watched her from a distance and never intervened (unless it was to drag her back to her feet when she had collapsed). Rozu hated the man. She knew the only thing that connected them was that he was the sperm donor that gave her life. He made her life a living hell and made her fight her very life every single day, making her bleed and use up every ounce of her strength just for something he wanted her to attain…she had never even left the fortress since the day she was brought into this world. She had seen glimpses of the outside world…a shining light in the distance, glowing with life and a hope for something better…something she wanted to see someday when she escaped this hell hole…

Rozu ducked a warrior swung his sword at her, nearly taking off her head. Her skin was covered with sweat, several cuts and abrasions covering her arms and legs, a gash running down the side of her temple, dried blood covering the side of her face. She stabbed him in the thigh with her spear, driving it in deep till it was sticking the other side, making the man lose balance and fall to the ground with a yell of pain, black purplish blood gushing from his leg. She yanks her weapon out and twirled it around and raised it over her head, ready to end him. However…she hesitated…for a split second she hesitated because despite everything she hated taking a life. It didn’t feel right. Life was a sacred thing, a gift given to every person that came into existence. She found it distasteful to kill anyone even if her father forced her to do it repeatedly. It was expected of her to take a life…they were nothing but tools to use or weaklings in her father’s way for glory.

In that second of hesitation a warrior came up behind her and thrusted his sword through her side, piercing her skin, muscles and tendons, barely missing several vital organs as the metal blade stuck out her stomach. A gasp of pain leaving her lips as a spike of pain flooded through her at being impaled. The man lifts his leg and shoves her over his blade, sending her falling to the ground, dropping her spear. Blood comes pouring from the massive wound in her side, soaking the dusty ground. She didn’t have time to press her hand to it to stop the bleeding because the warrior was ready to attack her again, raising his sword to send her. She covered her head with her arms to brace herself but the end never came…

She heard the man gasp loudly, her arms lowering and her eyes widening as she saw her father standing behind the man, his long clawed fingers around the fighters neck, crushing his wind pipe, his nails piercing his skin, ripping into his flesh…Yomi’s fist just closing further and further as the fight gasped for air. The next second the dark magician thrusted his hand threw the man’s chest, the fighters still beating heart in his palm, blood splattering across the faces of the other warriors and his daughter. He glares at the girl on the ground as she looks up at him with shock and fear…speaking to her in a dark cruel voice, “Pathetic.” He closed his fists around the man’s throat, his vertebra snapping and his head falling off, landing at Rozu’s feet, the warrior’s dead unmoving eyes staring into her very soul.

Lord Yomi dropped the man’s corpse and turned to the other fighters, “Dismissed.” He growls. The men bow and leave, not even caring that one of their own had just been brutally killed by their ruler. Rozu manages to stand up, holding her bleeding side; she could tell her father was angry… “F-father I--” before she could finish her back hands her across her face, sending her falling to the ground again as she winces. He steps forward and steps on the girls wound, pressing his heel into the tender flesh, blood squirting out of the deep cut, getting on his black leather boots. She screamed on pain as she grabbed his leg to try and shove him off but he simply lifted his other leg and kicked her in the face, her head being thrown back and hitting the ground as s sicken crack fills the air…blood gushing from her nose as she looks tearfully up at her father, her vision blurring as he leans over her.

A nasty snarl covers the man’s face, his golden eyes ablaze with rage, “You better listen well girl, there are two types of beings in the world: those that devour and those that get devoured. You best decide quickly which side you are on because right now you aren’t even worth being the dirty under my boot.” He spits in her face as he steps back and raises his arm, summoning a number of large shadow like beasts, their mouths snarling at Rozu, their sharp black teeth on display, purple drool running down their chins. “You can go for healing once you’ve destroyed every one of these creatures…if not, you will be their food.” He turned and disappeared into the shadows and reappeared on the balcony, “Begin!” He shouts as the beasts charge at Rozu. She quickly grabbed her spear and despite the agonizing pain she was in and the fact that she was bleeding profusely, she fought through every single one of them…promising that she would be the one to devour one day and she would start with her bastard of a father.

Back in the present, in the virtual world to be specific.

Noah was sitting in his large revolving chair surrounded by screens, several of them showing the locations he had dumped his hostages. He didn’t much care for the majority of them, they were nothing more than pawns in his plans and bodies for the Big 5 who agreed to help him if he found a way to get them new bodies. His main focus was the Kaiba brothers, Seto to be specifically. He had stolen everything from him, his father, his life, the company that was meant to be his, even his name. He had the life that was meant to be Noah’s and the green haired kid was going to get it back while destroying Seto Kaiba and stealing everything he held dear, leaving him in this virtual prison for the rest of eternity.

He watched as his victims started to awaken, all of them having been split up. Yugi was on his own in the middle of the woods as well as Serenity. Joey was on his own on side of a castle while Duke and Tristian were trapped together in another part of the castle, but the 3 friends would never find each other. Seto and Mokuba were together out in the forest and Tea was on her own in the middle of a canyon. Each place was chosen specifically for the teens to face on of the Big 5, well except the Kaiba brothers, they were Noah’s to toy with. But what of Lillian? Well the green haired boy had chosen a special place for her.

He knew exactly who she was; he had been watching Seto and examining his life closely since he took over Kaiba Corp, having been able to hack into the buildings security system was child’s play (even after Seto had put his own system into place). Noah had seen the girl in the office building on several occasions and her interactions with Seto every time she was there (including the intimate moments they had behind the closed of his office {and before anyone says anything, despite Noah’s youth appearance he is close to Seto’s age and no one can tell me different [plus I’m pretty sure most dudes have seen some kind of porn]}). It was very clear that the two of them had close relationship…he had overheard it when Yugi had confronted Seto about him hitting his sister (which how interesting that the one person who was able to beat the teen in a duel was the younger brother of the girl he loved. Noah found that rather hilarious, plus he two more thing he could use to turn Lillian against Seto just like he was planning to do with Mokuba) but this may be a little more difficult than Noah thought as it would seem that the couple had reconciled after everything that happened.

Still if Noah pushed the right buttons he could drive Seto and Lillian apart and making the teen suffer for stealing his life from him.

He pulled up the screen displaying the raven haired girl; he had placed her on an isolated island in the middle of the ocean in his digital world, far away from any of her friends and brother and her bean pole of a lover boy. She was his to do with as he pleased…so he set his plan into motion…

A soft whimper leaves Lillian’s lips as her eyes slowly opened, finding herself lying on a hot beach in the middle of nowhere. Her whole body ached, both her front and back. She somehow managed to sit up, wincing as she felt her stitches pulling despite moving as slowly as she could. She lighting touched her bandages, finding them dry meaning nothing had opened again. She looked around, gauging her surroundings. In front of her was a vast ocean and behind her looked like a dense jungle with luscious foliage and tall palm trees…this felt familiar…

Her mind goes back to that fever dream she had back on at Duellist Kingdom when the wound on her arm had gotten infected…the vision she had of herself as an infant crawling on the beach following a Blue eyes hatchling (which weird) and its mother showing up when she had cut her hand on a broken shell…

Lillian was still confused on the whole thing; she didn’t understand what it meant or where it came from. Maybe Seto’s obsession with those dragons was leaking into Lillian’s subconscious. Speaking of the tall teen, where was he? Where was her brother? Where was anyone? More importantly how did she even get here? Weren’t they kidnapped by some green haired kid and shorts, which by the way was not the weirdest situation Lillian has found herself in (watching the Millennium ring burning a man to death would always be the first).

She slowly stood up with much difficulty as she rested her arm around her middle when she heard something rustling in the plants behind her. She narrowed her eyes as her eyes glowed faintly, a few tendrils of water emerged from the ocean behind her, ready to defend herself if it was trouble…but relief washed over when she saw who it was, “Seto…” she looked at her beloved as he emerged from the foliage. She tried to step towards him but falls to the ground as she loses her balance, wave of pain washing over her as she clenched her teeth, grinding them together as she breathed heavily. She needed medical attention and fast.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, gentle fingers under her chin as they guide her to gaze up at Seto’s face, “You ok?” he asked in a soft voice. She shakes her head a little as she leans into his touch, letting herself relax as she knew she was safe now, “I’ll be ok. Where…where’s Mokuba? Where are the others?” a strange smile formed on Seto’s face as his fingers moved to her throat, the tips tracing her over her skin, “Why would I care where he is if I have you?”

Lillian frowned as she pulled back, this didn’t sound right…they may have been a couple but Mokuba was everything to Seto, everything he had ever done was for his little brother. Hell he had been beaten, whipped, treated like a dog and even been assaulted by his step father…he had endured it all just to ensure his brother had a good life…to hear him say something like that didn’t sound right at all. “He’s your brother…your family. How can you say something like that?”

He lets out a laugh, deep and condescending sending a chill down Lillian’s spine as his lips curled into a smirk, “Who cares about some brat? I don’t need him. And better yet…” his long fingers quickly curl around her throat and push her back into the sand, “…I don’t need you.”

Lillian’s eyes widen as she grabbed his wrist when he gripped her neck, letting out a choked gasp. What the heck was going on with him?! This wasn’t like him! He sneered down at the girl, leaning over her as he squeezed her neck, “The f@#$ is wrong with you?! Get off me!” She started to panic as she struggled beneath him, trying to push him off but the grains of sand were scraping horribly against the wounds on her back. Seto moved his free hand to the medical robe she was wearing and lifted it, exposing her bandaged torso, “I don’t think so…I’m gonna have little fun with just like we always do Lil. After all it’s just us here.” He walked his fingers up her stomach and hooked his index finger on the edge of the bandaged and yanked it hard, ripping the fabric and exposing the mess of stitched skin spanning across Lillian’s belly.

Her eyes widening tried to kick at him but he pinned her legs down with his own, his focus of the wires keeping her wounds closed, “But first I wanna hear what screams I can pull from those pretty lips of yours.” He grins as he pushes his hand down hard onto her stomach; some of the stitches pulling lose, ripping her skin as she lets out a blood curdling scream, blood starting to seep from the found as the man she loved was laughing above her.

She didn’t understand what was going on, this couldn’t be her Seto. She refused to believe that it was, he wouldn’t hurt her like this and he surely wouldn’t revel in her suffering…so she didn’t feel so bad when she clenched her fist and punched him as hard as she could in the face, unintentionally a stream of water shooting of the ocean, hitting the brunet with a such force that he is knocked clean off the girl and is send flying into a nearby palm tree.

With adrenaline running through her veins Lillian got up and ran as fast as her legs could carry her, needing to get away from the thing that was wearing Seto’s face.

Noah was watching all this unfold, satisfied with how things was going, getting ready to appear and save Lillian from his digital version of Seto Kaiba but somehow the girl had pulled water from the sea and sent the clone flying. How was that even possible?? She had no power over anything on this digital prison! He sent the clone after her, deciding to go with a different approach…

Lillian was searching either for a place to hide or a way to escape this island but the fake Kaiba had gotten up and was chasing after her, “You’re gonna pay for that you bitch!” he threatened. She turned for a moment and threw her arm out, sending another stream of water at him but doing something she had ever done before…as if moving on instinct she close her fist and the water freezes around his legs, hindering his movement and stopping him in his tracks.

Noah couldn’t understand what was happening, he searched through his programs to see it this was a bug or something…but what he found was even more confusing…it seemed like Lillian was functioning like one of the duel monsters that roamed the world. How the hell was that possible?!

She stalked towards the clone, a stream of water swirling around the false Seto, the tip freezing to form a sharp blade and presses against his throat as Lillian glares at him, “Who are you?” she demands before he starts to laugh, “I’m Seto Kaiba, who else would I be?” he doesn’t even flinch as the ice blade presses further against his neck, slicing into his skin ever so slightly, a drop of blood running over the ice. “A trick…a clone…something but you’re not Seto. I know Seto Kaiba and you’re not--” he laughs harder, “You don’t know me! I’m an egotistical asshole who doesn’t need anyone and wants to watch the world fall at my feet.” Even though Lillian knew this wasn’t her beloved, it still hurt to her seeing someone use his face and voice to say such horrible things and try to do something horrible to her…

Speaking of what he did, she was trying her best to ignore throbbing pain in her midsection as several of her wounds had opened and was bleeding through her medical robe…her body quivering slight as the adrenaline was wearing off. The man before her simply smirked, “You’re not looking too hot. You know I could get you some help…” she glared at him as she held her stomach, “Why would you help me?” he shrugs as he looked at her with condescension, “I’m not offering to help you…just putting it on the table…you’re more useful for me alive than dead.”

It was true; Noah had more use for her alive than dead. However this weird power thing she had going on was throwing a some issues into his plans…and even though it was a virtual world and none of this was real since technically her body was out in the real world, if her mind died in here then she would be brain dead out there…and that would be much greater blow for Seto than turning her against him. So all he needed to do was to stall for time and let her ‘bleed out’ and wait for her to die.

She didn’t want to believe him but she didn’t have a lot of options. With her wounds reopened and being trapped in the middle of nowhere she was sure she was going to bleed out again if she didn’t get help…so she chose to hear what this fake had to say, “What do you want from me?”

“Simple…a duel.”

Lillian raised a brow, “Seriously? A duel?”

“Why not? If you defeat me then I’ll take you somewhere to get medical attention. Seems fair doesn’t it?” he smirked, his blue eyes glinting with something evil. Lillian had to admit that this sounded stupid and too good to be true and she didn’t trust him but…

“Fine…I accept your challenge…” she waved her hand and the ice encapsulating the false Seto melted away. He chuckles darkly as a duel disk appears on his arm and one appearing on Lillian’s. She was confused for a moment before remembering that upon walking into the room and meeting the Big 5, they had mentioned every would be sent to some kind of digital world…so that’s what this place was…it explains the abomination that was in front of her.

Rows of cards appeared in front of her, hundreds of duel monsters cards. The fake Seto explained the rules and the aspect of a deck master which would’ve been interesting if she wasn’t duel for her life (one of the weirdest thing ever).

She searched through the cards and chose ones she thought could work against Seto’s deck (if he would even be using the same deck as her beloved but she suspected he would be if he was trying to make her believe he was her Kaiba). She saw a card she didn’t recognise…‘Maiden with Blue Eyes’. Its effect could be useful for her stagey…if she could get it to work that is. She selected the card and a few others, soon having her deck…she decided to use the Maiden card as her deck master and of course the fake Seto used a Blue Eyes White dragon as his…because of course.

Lillian holds her own for a while, she had made the right choice in picking cards that would work against Seto’s deck since the fake was using all his strategies…she was fine but was growing weaker with each passing turn as her robe was nearly soaked with her blood at this point…her vision growing blurry. The fake Kaiba could see she was struggling and decided to use his deck masters ability and summons two more Dragons and Fusing them with his deck master to form Blue Eyes Ultimate dragon. With a smirk he blasted Lillian’s monster on the field, the burst of energy knocking the raven head back, sending her flying back and slamming into a tree. She falls to the ground in a heap, her life points nearly at zero. She can barely stand as she was on the verge of unconsciousness…to her surprise her deck master is at her side and helps her to stand…

The false Seto laughs manically, “Any last words before I end you next turn?” Lillian glared at him weakly as her eyes started to glow, the sky filling with dark clouds as a harsh wind starts blowing…

Alarms started going off on one of the screens swirling around Noah, alerting him that something was happening to the system. He frowned as he tried to fix it but nothing was working. He turned his attention to the duel between his program and Lillian, the screen going static.

She slowly stands on her own as her tattoos light up, “This duel is over.” She declares as she draws a card and turns to her deck master, the white haired girl nodding before closing her eyes and clasping her hands together, her whole body glowing as the Ultimate dragon is moved to Lillian’s side of the field to fake Seto’s surprise, “H-how?” Lillian took a shaky step forward, “The Maiden with Blue Eyes special ability let’s her summon ever Blue Eyes monster that has been played to her side of the field for one turn…including the 3 you used to create you great beast…” his graveyard slot glowed as 3 beams of light shot out of it and flew towards Lillian’s side of the field, forming 3 dragons. They all snarled at the false Seto as he took a step back, the wind blowing harder as lightning strikes the sand between the two duellists, grains of dirt going everywhere, leaving a creator of glass.

More alarms go off as Noah starts to panic.

“You used Seto’s face to torment me, you used his words to turn him into something he’s not and you used his hands to hurt me!” Lillian‘s voice boomed over the howling wind, raining starting to pour heavily as one of the dragons roars in anger, “There’s only one true keeper of these beasts and it’s not you…” it sounded like another voice was echoing with Lillian’s, a voice filled with rage as she raised her arm, “…And now they will send you to oblivion! WHITE LIGHTENING ATTACK!” she belted out, a waved of sonic energy leaves her throat, encircling the beams of energy that come streaming out of the 4 dragons mouthed, creating an overwhelming attack that obliterated the fake Seto and most of the island.

Noah’s system goes haywire for a second before Lillian’s screen goes dark, losing signal to her location. His eyes wide as he doesn’t know what to make of this…

Lillian’s vision slowly goes black as she collapses to the ground, unconsciousness taking over as the duel disk around her arm disappears as well as the Ultimate dragon, the maiden and 2 of the others…one remaining. It hovers over Lillian’s pale near lifeless body, slowly leaning down, pressing its snout against the girl and nudging her gently to try and wake her up but she doesn’t respond. It makes some kind of soft distressed sound before it slowly disappears…and in the sand where it had once stood…was Lillian’s Blue Eyes necklace…

While Noah was still trying to regain a connection with Lillian’s location, he gets another alert…he turns his chair to look at the screen…the data on it revealing that some kind of virus was in the system…how was this even possible??! Could this day get in stranger?!

Elsewhere…in a pool of black ink and shadows a figure slowly rose from the ooze, a tall slender figure…the ink slowly sinking into the persons skin, revealing caramel coloured flesh, covered in red and black symbol tattoos, her fingers blackened, her hair a deep red, her eyes golden, long black skirt with slits running from the top of her thighs to her feet, exposing her curved thighs and calves that had markings on them too…her breasts were covered in a black fabric bindings, leaving her toned midsection exposed…she looks down at her hands and down at her body, running her fingers over her warm skin as a smirk forms on her lips, revealing her fangs…it had been 5000 years since she last had a physical form…she didn’t know how it was possible but here she was…

#yugioh #yami yugi #yugi mutou #seto kaiba #mokuba kaiba #fantasy #ocs #alternate universe #puzzleshipping #virtual world

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reverend-dog · 7 months ago

Text

The Thing in the Wall

“Oh, wow!” Kirsten cried, and stared into the hole in the wall. “Aren’t you a beauty?”

A pair of eyes stared back at her. Each eye looked to be the size of Kirsten’s head. Irises the color of bleached bone against blood-hued corneas, and u-shaped pupils, like a goat. They gleamed in the flashlight beam.

“What?” Chas prompted without turning. “Jesus, this place is a pit! I think even a ghost would have too much pride to be caught here.” She snorted. “Fuck the housing market.”

“Yah,” Kirsten agreed, “but it comes with a roommate. Check this out!”

Chas left off unpacking and turned. “Fuck me!” she exclaimed, and drew closer. “What a piece of work!”

The eyes dominated a face clad in scales, with horned ridges above the orbs and a lizard’s stubby muzzle. The head blended into hunched shoulders without the slightest concession to a neck, and arms as thick as either woman’s thighs framed a keg of a torso, hung with tufts of fur between mail-like scales. In place of legs, a serpentine tail curled round and round to support the rest.

The grotesquerie hunched just the other side of the hole that dominated one wall of the room. A tarpaulin had covered the gap, which Kirsten now held aside with one hand. The space beyond still sat bathed in shadow.

“Awesome workmanship,” Chas admired. “Movie prop?”

“Maybe Mr. Costello’s a sculptor,” Kirsten guessed. “But why would he put this beauty in there, then tell us it’s off-limits for renovation?”

“Shock value,” Chas postulated. “Probably listening for our screams.” She yawned. “Come on. Morning was already a long time ago, and we still need to make beds before we can sleep.”

The beds were as dilapidated as the rest of the old mansion, but Kirsten and Chas could not be asked to care. Around them, creaks and moans crept the halls, the sounds of a house neglected too long, easily ignored.

When the floorboards next to Kirsten’s bed bowed and complained particularly loudly, though, that served to stir her from sleep. She turned her head from side to side, then something nudged her shoulder. She opened her eyes – to meet the outsized gaze of the thing from the wall.

Kirsten’s eyes snapped wide, but she did not scream. Even when the thing’s head tilted and those eyes blinked, slowly, like a cat, and completely unlike a statue, she gave no cry.

“Why aren’t you scared?” A voice like silk, like the best salesman or television commentator, flowed from the thing’s muzzle. “Aren’t I scary?”

“For what it’s worth,” Chas spoke from her bed, hiked up on one elbow, “I think you’re magnificent.”

The great head turned, and the muzzle spread to grin with rows of sharklike teeth. “I’ve never heard that word attached to me before.” It nodded. “I could get used to it. What sort of people are you, that you don’t scream and run?”

“Horror fans,” Kirsten supplied. “We grew up on monster movies.”

The creature tilted its head, horny ridges above its eyes drawn together. “But I’m not some celluloid creation, a special effect,” it protested. “I’m very real, and more than able to tear you both to pieces.”

“Yah,” Chas allowed, “but if that’s your thing, why so polite?”

“Boredom,” it sighed. “My man rarely comes around anymore, at least when I’m awake. And until you two, all the previous tenants had the same reaction to my appearance.” Its eyes dropped to inspect the floor. “I – don’t handle confrontations well. Screaming, shouting, panic….” A shudder ran its entire length. “I tend to lose control. It’s very embarrassing.” It sighed. “At this point, I just want to go home.”

Kirsten and Chas exchanged glances, both certain what sort of “embarrassing” events probably happened when the creature lost control. “So,” Chas asked, “why were you playing possum when we found you?”

“I must have been asleep,” the creature explained, “or I suppose ‘suspended’ is more accurate. I’m quite inanimate except for the first hours of the day.”

“Like the Gargoyles!” Chas blurted. “Except they came alive at sunset. Say, while we’re being so friendly, what do we call you?”

“Of course I can’t reveal my true name,” the thing cautioned. “As fans, I’m sure you understand why. My man called me a variety of names, depending on his mood.” Its chuckle sounded like bones rattling. “I indulged him, perhaps too much. I think he forgot who was master and who, servant.”

Chas snorted. “Sounds to me like he figured it out.”

The creature considered. “You may be right,” it admitted. “I thought the benefits I provided would keep him loyal, but perhaps I misjudged. He must be reminded. But how? If he never visits while I am awake?”

Kirsten and Chas looked at each other again, and both knew the other’s thoughts. They remembered Elias Costello’s manner while he had shown them their room, the joke that only he knew. Shared outrage flowed between them, that for Mr. Costello’s complacency and the monster’s boredom, they would by now be undergoing digestion.

Elias Costello cursed as he pulled to a stop in front of the old place. Patrol units crowded the yard, lights flashing. An ambulance was there, too.

“Stupid fucking monster,” he muttered as he clambered from his car. “All these years of practice, you’d think it could handle another couple of girls. Fuck.”

“Detective’s inside,” a patrolman told Elias, and pointed a finger as if Elias needed further direction. Elias grumbled at the officer and trudged up the steps to the oversized front door.

Finely-honed survival instincts warned Elias as soon as he heard the door slam shut behind him. The red and blue lights that lit up the mansion and yard flicked out as soon as he was inside. No detective stood waiting, nobody at all. Elias’ phone buzzed in his pocket, and he dug it out and glared at the screen. ‘911’ read the number. Dread rose in Elias’ throat. He spun and sprinted for the door, hauled on the latch with all his strength. He might as well have tried to pull down the entire building.

His phone continued to call for attention. Hand shaking, he tapped the screen and spoke into the microphone. “Y-yes?”

“Mr. Costello?” replied an official-sounding voice. Elias recognized it from the earlier call, that had alerted him to a disturbance at his property that required his immediate attention, and dragged him out here at five AM. He now realized that it sounded familiar for a different reason, which became clear when he heard the same words come from the grand staircase that led to the mansion’s upper stories. He glanced up, and saw the two girls walking down the steps. One of them held a phone to her lips. “Thank you for arriving so promptly, Mr. Costello.”

“Think you’re smart?” Elias challenged, attempting bravado. “I don’t know what sort of deal you’ve got going, but trust me: you can’t trust that thing. First chance it gets, it’ll tear you apart. I’m the only one can control it, ‘cause I know its name.” He grinned his best salesman’s grin. “Let’s help each other, and we can all get out of here. Yah?”

Kirsten and Chas looked at each other, then turned and looked up the stairs behind them. Elias followed their gaze, knowing before he did what stood there. “Trust me!” he pleaded. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with! First chance it gets, it’ll swallow you whole!”

“I already had that chance, Elias,” the creature replied. “Turns out these young ladies are much more engaging and cooperative than you ever were. They introduced me to a novel concept, called deadnaming.”

Elias’ face blanched under his swarthy complexion. “No!” he cried, and followed with a name.

“They and I have already struck a deal, so your services,” the thing grinned a wide, feral grin, “are no longer required.”

As it dove at Elias, the monster cautioned, “You may want to look away.”

“Are you kidding?” Kirsten retorted.

“Yah!” Chas concurred. “We wouldn’t miss this for the world!”

#fiction #short fiction #short story #writing #creative writing #surreal #supernatural #horror #monsters

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