#low pressure die casting

[simalexdiecasting]

Precision CNC Machining: Using Precision to Create the Future

Uncover how precision CNC machining is shaping the future of manufacturing. In sectors including aerospace, medical, and automotive, cutting-edge technology and human skills are opening up new possibilities for components that are creative and high-performing.

[back2bluesidex]

The Undisclosed Reason: Murder - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Contract Husband!Yoongi X Contract Wife!Reader 

Theme: soft yandere, mystery, smut, morally grey characters

Word Count: 1.5k+

Summary: Min Yoongi is mysterious, beautiful and scary. Min Yoongi is also the primary suspect of instigating his ex-wife's suicide.

Warnings: SMUT!! explicit sex, sex on a kitchen counter, yoongi is chilling in here, mentions of suicide, death, murder.

First installment of One Last Contract

Inspired from kdrama The Trunk.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (for early access)

Taglist requests are open

Next installment: Curiosity Killed: None Yet

“The undisclosed reason���” His voice echoes in the mostly empty dining place, ��you know what it is, don’t you?” from the way his voice sounds so distant, you know he is facing away from you. 

Your hand momentarily stops wiping the dishes. Your mind tricks you into thinking that he is testing you. 

He is testing if you are afraid of him or not. 

He is testing if you will break under his pressure or not. 

And you won’t. 

You’d only be afraid of dying if you were living. Death doesn’t scare you anymore, not when you are a walking shell of a human who has long accepted her demise. 

“I do.” you reply briefly, resuming your task at hand. 

And then you let your mind divert, let it go wherever it wants, let it land wherever it sees fit. 

“Why did you say yes then? To this marriage?” suddenly his voice is close. When you look up you see him standing at the other side of the kitchen counter. 

His eyes pierce through yours. For the first time in a week of knowing him, you see life in those eyes. You see fire. 

“The money is good. And saying no to a project reflects negatively on performance review.” You keep your focus on wiping the dishes. 

Min Yoongi stands there, staring at you as if you are an alien that has suddenly teleported to his house. 

If he expects you to shrink under his scrutinizing gaze then he is wrong. You are not that fragile. 

“Also… I am not scared to die.” you add, as quietly as possible. For a moment you wonder if he has caught you spilling those words or not. 

Maybe he has not. 

But then you hear him chuckling. 

A low, rumbly sound that resembles tiny pebbles rolling down a rocky path. 

When you look up again, his eyes lock with yours for a second time - you know he hasn’t looked away for a moment even. 

“Then what are you scared of?” Yoongi takes a dangerous step towards you, his voice dips down an octave lower. 

“Nothing.” you reply as confident as ever. 

Yoongi takes another step and crosses the thin kitchen counter to stand right before you, towering you with his figure. His body casts a shadow on yours - you are in the dark now. 

“Not even what I might do to you?” He raises his hand. With his index finger, he traces the contour of your face. “What if I do something bad? Dirty? Something worse than killing you?” 

As soon as his finger comes in contact with your skin - you feel tingles all over your body. 

It’s been years - years - since you felt something akin to this. 

Your last husband was asexual. The one before him was gay. The one before that had an affair with someone of his mother’s age. And the previous two were terminally ill. 

Min Yoongi is your first totally normal project. You wondered what had made the man cave in - to seek the assistance of a contract marriage while he could have anyone in this world within a snap of his fingers. That was until you came to know the secret. 

Min Yoongi was investigated for his ex-wife’s death. Although that was a suicide, she wrote his name in the note. 

But now as he stands before you, under the extremely dim light of the kitchen, you are not sure - of what, you don’t know. 

Anyone in the world would find him scary, especially with that scar running down on his face. But to you he looks beautiful - especially with that scar running down on his face. All of sudden, your heart is overwhelmed with an urge of tracing his scar and wishing for it to tell tales - what happened, how it happened. 

“Do you want to do something bad, dirty to me?” you find yourself challenging him. 

His lips stretch in a smile, “does your company allow that? To have sex with the contract spouses?”  

“If both parties want, then yes.” you inhale a sharp breath. The proximity, his scent, his droopy eyes, slightly parted mouth and that long dark hair cascading to his neck make you feel dizzy. 

“Do you want it?” he asks, pushing himself closer to your body. 

“As long as you use protection, yes.” Even before you could finish your sentence properly, Yoongi winds a hand around your waist and pulls you towards him. 

Your body presses together. Electricity runs around like a pair of close-knit open circuits. 

“If you regret your decision later, it’s not my fault.” he breathes down on your mouth before closing the remaining gap. 

His mouth molds on yours as you kiss him back instantly.

Again, years - it has been years - since you have shared a kiss. 

His big hands trace the path of your lower back, down the valley of your arse. Planting his palms there, he gives you a squeeze. 

Arousal gushes out of your cunt. 

The kiss is bruising. It translates how hungry both of you have been for any kind of physical action. 

Yoongi backs you on the counter, nibbling down on your lower lip and breaking the kiss while pulling the muscle of your lip with his teeth. 

He wastes no time in attaching his mouth to the angle of your jaw, leaving marks all over the column of your throat and then on your collar bones. 

His hands now travel underneath your sweater, Touching the expanse of your skin that is hidden from his eyes. When his hands reach the underside of your bra, he detaches his face from your throat and looks at you intently. 

You know he is asking for permission, which you didn’t expect from someone who was booked for instigating his ex-wife’s death. 

You nod. 

Yoongi takes his time in pulling your sweater up from your body and discarding it somewhere around the vast dining place. He, then, stares at you, with hooded eyes full of last. 

Your arousal dampens your underwear. Fuck. you absolutely didn’t expect this. 

Reaching out for your bra, you unclasp it and let it pool down on your shoulders. 

Yoongi stares at you. He doesn’t move just yet. You follow his eyes as those lower from your face to your exposed chest. 

And then he moves. Grabbing you harshly by your waist he hikes you up and sits you down on the kitchen counter. 

The cold steel top sends shivers through every corner of your body. Your already erected nipples, stands for attention even more. 

Yoongi wraps his lips on one of your nipples in a long, languid suck. You can’t help but moan. 

His one hand holds you tightly by your waist and another rolls your unoccupied nipple between his thumb and index finger. 

A gush of pleasure flows out of your core. 

Your fingers find their way in his dark locks. You take time to enjoy raking your fingers through his silky-smooth strands. 

He sinks his teeth on your nipple, making you curse out loud. Your toes curl. 

Leaving your tit alone, Yoongi dives inside your sweat pants, right through your underwear and touches your slick cunt. 

His index finger runs along your slit at first and then his thumb joins to stretch out your fold and enter your hole. 

“So wet already, huh? Seems like your previous husbands were no good.” Yoongi comments in a fleeting way. 

You can’t object. He is right. 

He enters two fingers in you without any warning. The stretch burns at first but as he scissors his fingers slowly, you find your eyes rolling backwards. 

Yoongi’s bulge presses down on your stomach and you decide you want him. You want him now. 

“Fuck me. Fuck me already.” you murmur in his hair. 

You can feel him smirking against the skin of your throat. 

“As my wife says.” he detaches his body from yours. You stare at him as he stips off of his clothing. 

Once he is out of his underwear, his dick springs up and slams against his belly. He rolls down the condom that was hiding somewhere in his pockets - you wonder if he planned his earlier. 

You get even wetter. 

Within a second he is back at where he was. He takes off your remaining clothing in a haste and lines his cock to your entrance. 

Giving you a quick stare, he enters in you, smooth and swift. 

Your breath hitches. 

Five years. After five whole years you are being pleasured. 

He goes slow at first, gives you time to adjust and then picks up his pace. 

Min Yoongi, your contract husband fucks you in his kitchen. Fucks you so good that you can’t remember what brings you here - with him, under him. 

Fucks you at an inhuman pace. 

When you cum on his cock, he grunts loudly and that’s one of the most attractive sounds you have ever heard. 

He moans again when he cums inside the condom. 

As you both try to catch your breath, he looks at you with a smirk playing on his lips. 

“And what if I kill you now?” he asks, voice hoarse with all the moans and groans. 

“Will you?” 

“Maybe.” 

Permanent Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie @mikrokookiex @jjk174 @lallataegi @savageyoongi @jwnghyuns @parapiop7 @futuristicenemychaos @armystay89 @ryryvna @purple-realms

[pikapitou]

buckeddie 🕸️!!!

yayyyyyyy I love when characters are TRAPPED together !!!

They're probably not going to die. 70/30. Maybe 60/40 if they get unlucky and the debris pile shifts, but there's nothing they can do about that. Neither of them got hurt, Eddie says oxygen shouldn't be a problem, and two floors above them is a whole crowd of first responders looking at the blinking lights of their transponders on a screen right now. Their chances are really, really good. 

Buck's not gonna be the one to say that, though. 

He shifts closer so he can brace himself over Eddie on his elbows. It's cramped in their little safe pocket, but there's enough room to roll off him if he wanted to. He doesn't. Eddie doesn't say anything; his big hands are still at Buck's waist, under the turn-out coat, where they fell to steady him when the structure groaned and Buck knocked them both to the ground. It’s hard to see each other; their headlamps cast strange shadows from where they're discarded next to their busted radios—when they radioed for help nothing happened but their voices echoing back to them, like he and Eddie are the last two people in the world.

"Eddie," Buck starts, voice low and raspy so the words only fall between the two of them, "This is... bad, right? What—what if we don't..." 

He can feel the give of Eddie's exhale underneath him, the hot rush of it against his face. They're both breathing way too fast for all the concrete dust in the air, but Buck thinks the danger is probably halved if they're sharing it.

"Buck, listen. We're not there yet, alright?" Eddie says steadily, or trying to be. There's a breathless quality to his voice that Buck wants to bottle up like a firefly. 

"Yeah, but," Buck trails off, then deliberately drops more of his weight onto Eddie so he can feel the way he doesn't even flinch until their foreheads brush. "We... we have to be realistic, right?" 

He counts the seconds as Eddie stays silent underneath him. Precious seconds, Buck knows in the back of his mind, and doesn't think harder about why.

Then Eddie's hands at his waist squeeze, once, then slowly, like they're barely even moving, splay out over Buck’s ribs, big and warm and solid. Buck takes an inhale and holds it, so he can feel his chest expand under Eddie’s touch. "Yeah," Eddie says, practically voiceless, into the space between their mouths. "We—should be. Realistic." 

The radio crackles—out of range, not busted—with Gerrard's stupid fucking voice, "Firefighter Diaz. Buckley. Do you copy?" 

Eddie doesn't do anything like spring apart, but he does let go as he reaches for the radio and responds, the loss of contact like pressure taken off a wound. Buck has to sit up and grit his teeth against the blinding urge to—what? Smash the fucking radio? Find a piece of rebar to start bleeding out on? He doesn't get to do any of that, because they're starting excavation efforts now, and Gerrard is signing off with a condescending don't do anything stupid down there, and then it's just them again, staring at each other with the real world right there with them. Buck is still panting, can't get enough air, but underneath him Eddie's breathing is slow, even, and steady. 

"Looks like we're gonna be okay," Eddie says. Smiles. And doesn't touch him again. 

[carionto]

Pressure and Release

Human: *hmm-ing at a set of dials and gauges*

Alien: What seems to be *translation unit catches up with the information they're displaying* OH MY GOD IT'S GOING TO EXPLODE!!! GET TO THE ESCAPE PODS NOW!!!!

H: Shh, it's fine, I'm just experimenting.

A: OH MY GOD WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE HORRIBLY!

H: Hey! Rude. *turns a dial causing a loud hissing noise* It's just air compressors and hydraulics.

A: *due to not dying, is beginning to relax* Why do you need up to 200 atmospheres running through these systems. We have invented alloy-specific magnetization mechanisms. Please, why do you keep insisting on these volatile and explosive means?

H: *turns the dial up* Because... *releases the pressure again, loud sudden hissing sound again* That's a cool sound.

A: Just because you think something is 'cool' doesn't make it-

H: *interrupts with another air build up and release sound without breaking eye contact*

A: *leaves*

H: *continues to play around*

_________________________________________

Okay, so I wanna get this off my chest. I find myself now for the fourth time starting a fun little activity, doing it for months on end, having a blast, and then almost suddenly dropping it entirely. First time I wrote some short stories or something every day for about six months and put it on deviantart. Then some longer form stuff started cropping in, sort of continuous narratives or whatever, and I stopped. Second was running a open D&D campaign with a persistent world but ever changing party, each session a sort of one-shot with a decision that would impact the whole world and what future sessions would exist. Not even 10 sessions in I felt under pressure to continue and build upon what I had already and just couldn't and stopped. Third was another kind of TTRPG, this time running my own server for Lancer. Again, open one shots, but less connected and I would hopefully get some of the players to want to run their own games within this freeform framework that I directly lifted from a D&D server I was in, even had some of the same people join as players. Few months later, I felt this massive pressure from myself to run games and come up with new scenarios that I just froze up. I cancelled game after game and just eventually abandoned the server and the resources I had made. Fourth time was here on tumblr itself. Back to writing some short form stuff on a fairly regular basis, almost daily for some time even. Had a blast, and then longer form content started creeping in. I thought I wanted to write some stories with an overarching plot and recurring characters and connected storylines, build up and pay off, that sort of thing. Again, I created this massive pressure by myself for myself of myself to do something I apparently can't. I created this sense of expectation of myself "Well, I started this, I should finish it, but where do I go, what do I do, how can I connect this?" And then this self-inflicted pressure got to me, again. And I stopped.

What I have known for a while, but couldn't put into words is that I don't want to tell a big long epic story or anything like that. I don't have one of those in me and forcing something like that only makes me shrivel up and run away. I have a world, several in fact, in my mind. Entire continents of a low fantasy character driven political intrigue and drama based world with tons of rules and restrictions, thousands of years of history, strong personalities for the main actors and so many individual scenes with them and the supporting cast, and a timeframe for when the overarching story happens and how it ends. But no story itself. Just scenes. I have a high fiction sci-fi world, again, with very distinct factions and races, most of the details I have written out back when I was a teen in a physical notebook with pen and pencil. Lots of historical points and events, how the races work, their domains if you will, near magical powers I try to explain with plausible science. Tons of specific details. Even drew each of their common symbols, how one of the languages is structured, schematics of how their cities are planned, and details on other planets in the system and how those might be important later. But, not a single individual character or story. Just dry facts. And then we have the loose sci-fi world I've created here. Bunch of different angles and perspectives, some comedic, some more serious, even put Cthulu in there. Many short and mostly self-contained stories and episodes of various humans doing things an exaggerated version of humanity would do. There is potential for a number of expanded and longer form stories here, some I attempted, and as mentioned, what ultimately made me stop. I don't have a book in me, and I don't want to write one. I just like to write little snippets and I want to get myself to accept this idea that, no, it does not need to become more than that. Because every time I start going down a path where it feels like it should be more than a one page thing, I seize up, start thinking that I need to do this, panic when I can't come up with anything, go silent, and give up. It just does not work for my brain. And that's fine.

[run-little-hero]

T/CW // Violence, descriptions of gore, discussions of religion, religious imagery

“Get the fuck away from me.”

Hero stumbles, arm braced against a concrete pillar. They’ve found themself cornered and bloodied in a fantastic ballroom. Glittering gowns twirl and gloved fingers dance across the shoulders of their partners, lost to an enchanting, classical rhythm. But Hero, sequestered in a corner by Villain, masks their frantic pants beneath the melody, an arm clapped over their bleeding middle.

Villain pushes Hero farther back, voice low. “You’ve never liked the way I say ‘hello.’”

Hero cowers inward, gripping their arm to their chest as tight as possible. They can slow the bleeding, they won’t die here. But time is running out to evacuate safely and silently. Hero knows compromising the scene by causing commotion might lead to an explosive reaction on Villain’s part.

Hero doesn’t realize how close Villain has gotten until there’s a hand on their waist. “You look a little faint, my friend.” They pull Hero in, whispering, “Seems the crowd is too much for you. Let’s take care of that.”

The image of Villain’s chest flayed open, then crumpled facedown in the mess of their own gore strikes Hero. They feel sick. “You’re the Devil.”

Villain can’t help but smile. “And you’re such a little saint.” They mean it, too. “Don’t worry, I simply meant let’s take care of you.” Suddenly, they’re pulling Hero by the waist onto the dance floor.

“Villain.”

“Hush, we’re being discrete.”

Villain forces one of Hero’s arms behind their neck, the other fiercely gripping their stomach. Layers of frivolous clothing obscure the red seeping through their shirt. The pair sways to the slow ballad, and Hero can see Villain guiding them closer to the exit, inch by inch. They’ll take their time, and Hero leans into their weight as black spots begin to invade the edges of their vision.

“Tell me Hero,” Villain prompts. “Do you have faith in anything? Personally, I don’t see the point in religion when there’s people like us in the world.” Heroes and villains. Good and evil.

“I have faith in myself and my team,” Hero grunts, nearly tripping over Villain’s shoe. “That’s all I need.”

“You never think about God?”

“I’m more concerned with protecting innocent people myself. Can’t rely on the universe for that.”

Villain considers this. “I empathize with you, Hero.” They’re getting closer to the exit, nearly 10 feet from the stairs. “I find our conversations divine, and surely worthy of devotion. We’re magic in and of ourselves, aren’t we? A mixing of forces, alchemical.”

Hero grips Villain’s shoulders tighter. They can feel their feet growing heavier with each half-step. So close to the door. They just need to entertain Villain while they climb the stairs.

“S-some…” They struggle over the first step. “Something like that.” Villain pulls them over the second, all but carrying them.

Hero is wheezing by the time they reach the top, collapsing into Villain. They confess, “This feels more like Hell to me.”

“Hero,” Villain smiles into the crown of their head. “We will never be closer to God than we are right now.”

It sends chills through Hero. They pull Villain towards the exit, but Villain remains stood at the top of the staircase, gaze cast over the ballroom.

It’s not right, but Hero can’t move. The blood is trickling down their body, and they no longer have the strength to put pressure on the bleeding. They silently plead for Villain to move, take mercy and get them help.

“I have faith in you,” Villain says.

Hero feels a push of opposing force against their chest, and all of a sudden Villain looks far away. It’s the image they’re left with as their skull hits the bottom of the staircase with a ‘crack.’

—

snippet #5

[ealdormanink]

I saw you are writing for Vikings 😍 Can you write a One Shot about Ivar? Topic can just be anything

Born Under Ravens' Wings

A Ivar the Boneless x Reader oneshot inspired by Lana Del Rey's "Born to Die".

Content Warning: mentions of blood, implied violence, dark themes.

Thank you for the request!! <3

The heavy wooden doors of the Great Hall creaked open, letting in both the bitter winter wind and the woman Ivar had summoned. Her footsteps echoed against the stone floor, steady and unhurried, despite the rows of armed guards lining the path to his throne. The air hung thick with the scent of burning wood and something metallic - blood.

Ivar the Boneless sat with the kind of stillness that made people forget to breathe, his piercing blue eyes fixed on her approaching figure. Blood trickled down his arm, staining the intricate patterns of his leather armor, yet his face betrayed no pain.

"They say you're a healer," he spoke, his voice carrying that peculiar mix of silk and steel that made grown men tremble. "That the gods whisper their secrets to you."

She held his gaze, something few dared to do. The flames from the hearth cast dancing shadows across his sharp features, making him look more like the god he claimed to be than the man he was.

"The gods whisper to those who know how to listen," she replied, her voice clear in the vast hall. Her fingers instinctively reached for the medicine pouch at her hip, where herbs and bandages waited to tend to his wound.

A smile played at the corners of his mouth - dangerous, intrigued.

"Leave us," Ivar commanded, and the guards filtered out without a word, their footsteps fading into silence. The Great Hall suddenly felt more intimate, despite its vastness.

She approached his throne, her movements measured and purposeful. The wound on his arm was deep - a sword's kiss from a recent battle. As she knelt beside him, the scent of herbs from her pouch mingled with the metallic tang of his blood.

"This will hurt," she warned, meeting his gaze again. Most healers would have lowered their eyes, muttered apologies, trembled at the prospect of causing the king pain.

Ivar leaned forward, close enough that she could see the flecks of darker blue in his eyes. "Everything worthwhile hurts," he replied, voice low and rich with meaning.

Her fingers worked skillfully, cleaning the wound. If the sting of the herbs bothered him, he showed no sign of it. Instead, his eyes never left her face, studying her with an intensity that would have made most people squirm.

"You're not afraid," he observed, tilting his head slightly. It wasn't a question.

"Should I be?" She pressed a clean cloth against the wound, her touch firm but gentle. "You're a man before you're a king, Ivar the Boneless. And all men bleed."

His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wrist. Not painfully, but with enough pressure to command attention. The sudden contact sent a jolt through her body, like lightning before thunder.

"Most who speak to me with such boldness don't live to see another sunrise," Ivar said, his thumb brushing over her pulse point. A smile played on his lips, but his eyes remained serious, searching.

"Then perhaps you're surrounded by too many cowards," she replied, continuing her work with her free hand. "A king needs truth more than he needs flattery."

The grip on her wrist loosened, but he didn't let go. Heat radiated from where their skin touched, and for a moment, the great hall seemed to fade away, leaving only this space between them.

A log cracked in the hearth, sending sparks dancing through the air. In that brief flash of light, something passed between them - an understanding, a recognition. She saw past the crown, past the legends of his cruelty, to something raw and real beneath.

"The gods didn't just give you the gift of healing, did they?" Ivar's voice was barely above a whisper now. "They gave you sight."

She tied off the bandage, her work complete, but neither of them moved to break the connection. "Sometimes," she admitted, "I see things I wish I didn't."

"And what do you see when you look at me?"

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken implications. She studied his face - the sharp angles, the intensity that seemed to radiate from him like heat from a flame. In the flickering firelight, shadows danced across his features, making him appear almost otherworldly.

"I see glory," she finally spoke, her voice soft but unwavering. "And pain. And loneliness." Her free hand moved, almost of its own accord, to hover near his face, not quite touching. "I see a man who's fought against fate itself, yet can't escape its pull."

Ivar's breath caught, almost imperceptibly. For a heartbeat, the carefully constructed walls behind his eyes crumbled, revealing something vulnerable and hungry beneath.

"Dangerous words," he murmured, leaning slightly into her almost-touch. "Speaking of fate to a man who's made his own destiny."

"Have you?" She challenged gently. "Or have the gods been guiding your path all along, as they guide mine?"

The air between them grew thick with tension, like the moment before a storm breaks. Ivar's hand slid from her wrist to her hand, intertwining their fingers in a gesture that felt more intimate than any embrace.

"The gods," he said, his voice rough with emotion, "have never given me anything I haven't had to fight for." His eyes flickered to their joined hands, then back to her face. "What battle will they demand for you, I wonder?"

A gust of wind howled through the hall, making the flames dance wildly. The shadows it cast made it seem as though the carved gods on the wooden pillars were moving, watching their exchange with ancient, knowing eyes.

"Perhaps," she said, finally allowing her fingers to trace the line of his jaw, "the battle has already begun."

Ivar caught her hand against his face, his touch both gentle and possessive. The calluses on his palm spoke of countless battles, yet his touch held a tenderness that surprised her. His skin was warm despite the winter's chill, almost feverish.

"You know what they say about me," he said, eyes darkening. "The stories. The warnings. That I destroy everything I touch." His grip tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to emphasize his words.

"And yet here I am," she replied, unflinching. "Perhaps destruction isn't always what it seems. Sometimes the old must burn for the new to rise."

A low laugh escaped him, more genuine than his usual calculated smirks. "You speak in riddles like a völva."

"And you avoid truths like a king." She moved to withdraw her hand, but he held fast, pulling her closer until she could feel his breath on her face.

"Stay," he commanded, then seemed to catch himself. His voice softened, almost to a whisper. "Stay and tell me more of what you see."

The word hung between them - not quite a request, not quite an order. In that moment, she saw their paths stretching before them like threads of fate, intertwining, beautiful and terrible in their inevitability.

She felt it then - that familiar whisper of the gods, a chill down her spine that had nothing to do with the winter air. In her mind's eye, she saw flashes: blood on snow, a crown falling, ravens circling. And through it all, their two figures, bound together in a dance of fate that could only end in flames.

"The paths that lead to you are stained with blood," she whispered, her hand trembling slightly in his. "The gods show me darkness, and glory, and pain." Her eyes met his, and for a moment, she saw understanding flash across his face. "They show me an ending written in the stars."

Ivar's grip on her hand tightened, his other hand coming up to trace the line of her throat, resting there like a promise - or a threat. "Then let it come," he breathed, his voice heavy with something between desire and defiance. "Let them try to stop what's already been set in motion."

She pulled back slightly, though every fiber of her being yearned to lean closer. "Some things," she said softly, "are meant to destroy us, Ivar the Boneless. And we walk toward them anyway."

Rising to her feet, she felt the weight of destiny settling around them like a cloak. The fire had died down to embers, casting long shadows across the hall. As she turned to leave, his voice stopped her.

"When will I see you again?"

She paused at the threshold, looking back at him one last time. In the dying light, he looked every bit the king of legends - beautiful, dangerous, doomed. "When the gods will it," she answered. "And they always will it."

The heavy doors closed behind her with a sound like fate sealing shut. In the great hall, Ivar remained on his throne, touching the bandage on his arm, his eyes fixed on where she had disappeared. Outside, the wind howled louder, carrying with it the sound of ravens' wings - harbingers of what was to come.

Some loves were born to die, after all. But first, they had to live.

[goldyluna]

I got inspired by @rosehippiefield's post about Shin's advice on how to deal with Midori and his own behavior towards Sara (that you can find here!). It made me want to analyze more his reasons behind all of his cruel acts. And how some other people from our main cast were affected because of the death game. So.

People can act very differently in different situations. Their emotions and behaviors are always connected to something they go through. No matter if we understand why and how.

So people that are aggressive, cruel, judgmental, rude, miserable, or every other negative adjective usually have a reason for being the way they are. Knowing the reason is really important for understanding others behavior. Of course understanding the reason doesn’t automatically mean we should like this person or forgive them!

Aggression can happen as a natural response to stress, fear, or a sense of losing control. People also react harshly and negatively when they feel like they are mistreated, people don't listen to them, or they are just frustrated. Fear is a really important factor in how we act too.

In Your Turn To Die we have a really specific situation. A few unsuspecting people got kidnapped and put in an unknown place to fight for their lives.

Death itself is a really strong stressor. So adding to it that basically everything is unknown is really not helping with the pressure.

Like was said before, people can behave differently even in similar situations. Really important are the personality, previous experience and predispositions.

Our main cast experiences different things, and because of that, their perspective and way of going through their current situation can be even more different.

Each of them will react differently because of the trauma and reactions of the body to the situation. Some of them even had traumas before landing in the Death Game by Majority.

There, of course, will be feelings connected with experienced trauma (during and afterwards). There are some that we can also see in the game:

Anger

Numbness or difficulty feeling any strong emotions

Lost

Fear or panic

Grief

Worried

Irritation

Confusion

Restless

Hypervigilance

Shock or horror

Shame

People may be affected by trauma in many different ways. There may be problems with looking after yourself, not being able to have a stable job, being distrustful, forgetting things or they can struggle with low self-esteem. People like that can experience flashbacks, panic attacks, dissociation or suicidal thoughts.

After this long introduction, let's take a closer look at some of our characters!

NAO Nao lost someone very dear to her. She even went a little crazy for a moment. But she is so strong mentally she moved past the death, she didn't give up.

A lot can be said about Nao. That she is rational, really smart, selfless and she is not afraid of making sacrifices for a greater goal. That's why it was her that pushed fake Reko down the pit, saving Sara from making the decision.

She doesn't hold a grudge against Shin. She really pays attention to details, so she notices Reko behaves differently. But she still hits Shin because she got scared (Kai's making) and, more importantly, we get the Massacre Ending.

It is not the greater good, this is not selfless. It is selfish and only for her (and Sara), so she can live. Because it is not fair for anyone to be destined to die.

KANNA Kanna was searching for comfort from Sara. She viewed her as someone safe and trustworthy. Someone she can look up to as a big sister.

I am not saying she was replacing Kugie, but at that moment she needed a sisterly figure and Sara suited this role so well. She gave her support and spent time with her. Sara was the one that was there for Kanna and was from the very beginning.

We see Kanna as someone cowardly, shy and innocent. Maybe a little too trusting. The death she experienced at the beginning didn't help and only made the whole experience worse. But she was with people that she trusted and wanted to help. That she was so brave in the second Main Game, making her death a choice. And even if she lived, her demeanor changed. At least a little. She wants to live for those that died for her and it is making her stronger.

Kanna will always be Kanna, but thanks to all the people that support her, she could show her real self. The prettiest flower in the game.

Q-TARO Q-taro is someone who changed his ways. He could escape with the tokens he got (and did), he could leave Gin for dead. But he wants what he thinks is the best. Being alive was the best he could think of at the beginning.

He is an easygoing and friendly giant with high levels of anxiety and selfishness. He has his moments of doubt, like with the tokens.

When we give him enough tokens, he escapes. Even when Rio tells him that, if he inserts all tokens, everyone else will die. Even when he is offered his tokens back. He just apologizes and turns away from Sara.

When we won't do the trade with him, he can't go with his plan. When his doll talks during the coffin roulette, he admits he wanted to abandon them all even if it meant killing someone. And when he talked with Mai after she woke up, he said that he would do the same as her, but he didn't have the opportunity.

He trusted Mai and didn't blame her for the stabbing because he understood. He made the whole plan of saving others by dying himself. Sacrifice from a guy wanting to live hits so hard.

KEIJI The thing with Keiji is complicated. He is a liar, a murderer and a skiver. But he also is so full of guilt and anger. He is still grieving. Years passed, but he still feels guilty about the death of Mr. Policeman.

He is angry, desperate, lost in the dark thoughts. And he acts on them during his First Trial. But Megumi was his friend once, someone really important to him. They drank together, worked together, spent a lot of time together. So he had another's blood on his hands and the whole death game on his head.

He isn't trusting anyone because he knows he himself has something to hide. But he suppresses all the emotions and hides behind humor and fake flirting. He lies about being a policeman because he thinks that would be the way for others to not think he did anything horrible.

He doesn't feel like someone who can do anything about his situation, let alone theirs all. It is easier to give responsibility to another person, even if she is only 17 years old.

He acts how he believes is the best. He acts without telling the person that is supposed to trust him the most his plans. For the best or for the worst.

The death game isn't really a good supplement for therapy.

SARA Sara is very strong-minded, very befitting for a leader. She is our main character, so it is obvious a lot will revolve around her. But even this is too much. There is just so much on her shoulders.

She is only in high school but she almost died a few times (and she did, probably, as we are the players, so the GAME OVER screen isn't strange for us) in a very short time. She got people she can trust and those that hate her and make her life harder. She became a leader for all of them and they look up to her.

"Are you going to be our goddess of victory... or our angel of death?”

A lot of pressure is put on her. She will be the reason everyone will survive or die. Isn't that comforting, Keiji?

But okay, some may say that she is a born leader anyway, but she holds onto Keiji really hard. He is her anchor after Joe. It is also a way to destroy her if she will ever lose him. Because while Sara is she's extremely competent, she makes mistakes. But we know she will always get up.

Sara is also even more interesting, because we know her rate of survival is 15.5% (and the % of our participants is really curious in itself and deserves its own post). We saw a lot of faces of Sara thanks to simulations. She could be merciless, manipulative and ready to do anything to survive. She is obsessed and selfish, not caring for anyone else, just herself.

And we can't blame her, she wants to live. When we are desperate, we do things that aren't good. Those horrible situations, life-threatening ones, make us different people.

Have you ever heard about the Johari Window?

The Johari Window is a quadrant diagram that is used to show how we know ourselves and how others perceive us. It can be a tool to understand ourselves—how we behave, our character traits, skills, attitudes, knowledge and reactions.

Like the name suggests, there are four parts to this model.

Open Part - there are things that are known to you and others. If you know you are shy and you act shy towards other people, all of you know that you are shy. We know Nao is an artist. She knows that and tells others she went to study art. She was completely Open with that.

Hidden Part - is when there are aspects only known to you. You keep them hidden from others so others won't know those things about you. For example, you can be very opinionated, but you don't show it to others. Then they can't know that your opinions may be different than theirs because they can't hear your thoughts.

Blind Spot - it is the complete opposite of the previous part. There are things that others know about you, but you are not aware of them. Kanna is really clever. She figured out the password to Kai's laptop when Shin had a problem with it and she knew that Shin tampered with her sister's message. But she still thinks of herself as not smart (she says that in chapter 2 part 2).

Unknown Part - this one is really interesting, because about this part neither you nor others know about yet. Mostly it stays a secret, but sometimes, where there is a really unpredictable situation that can, for example be life-threatening, that Part may come to light.

We never can know how we will behave during those situations that we never lived through. We don't know if we will fight, flight, freeze, flop or fawn.

Q-taro and Sara are perfect examples of the Unknown Part of the Johari Window.

Q-taro's high level of stress pushed him to do some horrible things. When he had to actively choose if it was him or Gin that would die, he didn't do anything. He let Gin get hit because he was afraid to die, even if the poison would work slower on him. Some shame him for this, but if we were in his place, would we do differently? Click a button that could kill us. We don't know and we hopefully won't.

We may say we would do or not do some things, but until the situation happens to us, we won't be sure.

Similar with Sara and her behavior. All the things she did, all the thoughts, emotions, relationships and ways of doing things we see are a result of some really important factor. She changes after the logic route, why?

Because of Joe. He is her tranquilizer, her anchor, her morality. He was the person that made Sara care during the death game.

Her whole behavior switched only because of one person.

When we pick Kanna to live, Sara is how we know her. Compassionate, strong, mature. But when Shin lives, Joe dies again, but this time in her memories. It makes the situation similar to those in simulations.

Even Sara is terrified by what she is doing.

SHIN (+ Midori)

And that's why Shin is so suspicious of Sara all the time! But let's start at the beginning with him.

Shin is, like every character in YTTD, a very complex character. We know him as an annoying, scary and cruel man for most of the game. Some of us hate him still and some took him as their favorite.

What he did and his reasons aren't forgettable. But it is nice to see a reason behind his behavior.

Midori is sadistic and really cruel. He torments others for his own amusement and loves to watch them break. He loves to make others be afraid of him—and that's why he always tries to be intimidating by holding eye contact and saying unsettling things. He is mean and childish, but he also is really good at reading people. He uses that for his own use, to push the limits of others, control them and let them fall in desperation.

Shin spent a lot of time with Midori. He was his only friend in school and he was so scared of him. Midori did everything to make Shin uncomfortable, but also unable to leave him.

But thanks to that, he knows a lot about him. Shin knows Midori loves control, so taking it away from him is lethal. He knows that Midori is so afraid of death (even if Midori thinks nobody will ever kill him), he is a coward that cares only about himself.

When Shin gives Sara advice, it is so ironic. He tells Sara she should act how he acts towards her. To try to intimidate Midori, make him scared, take away his control.

The advice is important, because only thanks to that can we see how Shin sees Sara and his situation.

Sara is so similar to Midori. Shin can see in her all those cruel acts that never happened. She is in so much control because she is the leader and makes a lot of final decisions. She can be so intimidating. She has sometimes emotional outbursts (that are entirely justified). Additionally, she has a really high % of survival that automatically makes her the most dangerous enemy.

Of course Sara isn't like Midori. Their reasons are different and Sara is genuinely a really good person. But Shin has problems with distinguishing them.

Shin definitely got traumatized during his "friendship time" with Midori. It affected him so much, he is searching for danger in anything remotly similar to what he already knows. His defence mechanism and heuristic try to save him, but it does more harm than good.

He got hurt by someone close to him, so he is extra careful. He doesn't want to be too close to people, prefers to be distant and mean. He prefers to act as someone he hates and is scared of, why?

Because he is afraid. In his own eyes, he is weak and easy to get rid of if he is useless. He thinks the way to survive is to act as the only person that made him feel the worst.

Intimidation, cruelty, cunning, manipulation, lies. Those are the keys to survival in the world where it is kill or be killed. If he is those things, he may live longer than if he were himself.

But as we know, Shin also isn't like Midori. He cares—for Kanna, Gin, even for Keiji and Sara. And he wants them all to escape, despite everything. But going back to old Shin isn't an option anymore. Too much has happened.

Fear is infinitely connected with anger. Anger makes people mean and impulsive. That's why after Kanna's death, he made the worst Joe experience for Sara. That's why he was so mean to Kanna when it turned out that she isn't the Sacrifice and is ready to die for him.

That's why he hates Sara. He is so, so afraid it hurts.

He wants to destroy any possibility that could hurt him and the only way, in his opinion, for that to happen is to hit first. And that's how they should fight with Midori.

Fight fire with fire.

But if anyone knows how extinguishing fire with fire works, then they know that at the end both fire dies and the forest will still be burnt. There will always be victims, no matter if they are main or side characters.

Fire destroys. Midori is so widespread that he can't be stopped by using only water. Sara is a small fire that Shin wants to nip in the bud before it is greater than the forest itself.

But we are heading towards the end slowly. There are fewer and fewer people. Relations will always be strained but also deeper, on another level. Let's see how they will act in the final chapter!

THE END

Finally, I just want to say: there always will be choices to choose, decisions to decide and fires to fight. We can hate, love or like anyone for any reason, but it is important to understand the other person.

Sometimes life is so unpredictable. We won't know what will happen and what we will do. We don't know ourselves as well as we think we do.

But let's be kind to ourselves and others. We don't know what they went through and what will happen to us.

[macbethheadband]

Macbeth cope list

What a lovely theatre it was so beautiful in there the CEILING was so nice. The chairs were comfy too. Uh the walls? They were great also. And the floors were walkable no doubt about it

No problems with the headphones at all except for early on when they all started dancing and jumping around the sound went nuts and the music got really staticy. Not sure if we just got a fritzy night or if thats a problem theyve consistently dealt with. The second the dancing stopped though it was fine again so!

Thats a big part of what really impressed me with the sound too it felt like you could really hear how tightly controlled it was and how much attention to detail theyd put into it with switching peoples mics on and off and adjusting volume when they shouted and looping and overlaying voices. And the sound effects worked really well!!! Incredibly effective and immersive. Sidenote a lady sat in front of us was like oh theres headphones? What are these for? Like i forgot not everybody has dedicated their lives to seeing this play and knows all about it

One downside might be that the audience cant hear themselves so theres a lot of coughing and sneezing and snuffling and snorfing and at one point someones alarm went off and when macduff was doing his all my pretty chickens moment someone was genuinely hacking up a lung behind us. I wonder if thats annoying for the actors LOL i hope the donmar proshot doesnt have a lot of that in the final mix because ill just die

LOVED the use of the glass partition the way theyd have everyone seated in a row and delivering the sort of expositiony lines like i said before. Especially in the second half of macbeth theres a lot of back and forth between lots of short scenes so i really liked the way they dealt with that it never lost momentum. And when they opened the glass and started CLIMBING OUT that was so great

Actually a favourite element was how everyone would start climbing onto the stage and crawling towards macbeth and grasping out at him that was so DELICIOUSLY creepy. Shout out to rona morrison who played lady macduff the woman with the red hair in braids she would crack this extremely unsettling smile whenever she went witchy mode and my eye was always drawn to her.

I have so many macbeths to compare this to bc i watched so many this year and this one is up there as a favourite for sure. I think the descent into madness is hard to do in a way that feels natural and not hammy but we can HEAR the voices in their heads and feel the pressure they feel as everything goes weird around them and the guilt starts to eat at them. I believed it i really did!! The sort of Snap the shift between when hes seeing the dagger versus when duncans dead and hes covered in blood again. YAYYY!!!!! I especially believed his speech about banquo that sort of escalation drawn out by paranoia when hes like make THEM kings???? The SONS of banquo. KINGS??? its like here we go girls…

Also comparing it to all the other macbeths i saw its SO GOOD to have an all scottish cast LOL it really is crazy how that simple change adds so so much

Cush jumbo and her big bright eyes HER EYESSSS shes a very powerful glowy presence in her white dress i loved the way she did this sort of gesture like shes having a migraine paired with the sound and the lights sort of getting keyed up and the ghostly child behind them both and the way she did the out damned spot WAIL and how she said come come give me your hand down low and sweet like to a little kid oh my god…

Im jumping around a lot but the porter was really fun and the way they really harshly snap back into the world of the play after it was really cool like the whole scene was all in HIS head too mmmm

I love when its funny GENUINE comedy like hahaha laughing out loud. It was a rough night! So annoying when you know it could be funny but the actors like nah this is serious business or my name isnt sir kenneth charles branagh. Lets have a giggle mate it makes the frightening parts scarier it makes the tragedy more depthful lets experience the range of human emotions together come on lets go

I just want to keep saying things that worked like the music worked the lights worked the smoke worked the bit where everyones being the witches worked the one child actor playing all the children worked the banquos ghost scene REALLY worked you have DISPLACED the MIRTH the idea that the two of them are carrying a lot of baggage from war and the loss of a child really REALLY works. I think thats the best compliment i can give it like theres nothing i feel like didnt achieve what they were going for or fell short. Im really really impressed by it super super super pleased for everyone for bringing the vision to life so clearly and effectively

David tennant was really good

[tobiasdrake]

Ranma 1/2 Reboot 01x09 - I'll Never Let Go

Here we go with more of the ice skating arc. Fuck these people up, Ranma and Akane.

Modern dubbing has gotten really good. I have my beefs with some modern dubs, like the way Spy x Family translates Anya's comical gaaaaaaan shock noises into just... generic gasps with no funny sound whatsoever. But they're a lot better than they were in my day.

Sometimes I'll flip over to the dub when watching something just because I'm curious how the dub team for this specific piece handled something.

For this bit, the joke is that Ranma called him 慢性発情男 Mansei Hatsujou Otoko, which sounds kinda-sorta similar to Sanzenin Mikado and means "Chronically Horny Man". Or "chronic horndog" as the subs translated, which is accurate but doesn't sound anything like his name.

The dub opted for "McHorny Sex Pest" as a kinda-sorta for Mikado Sanzenin, and that's perfect. Chef's kiss.

This man is so gross. He already forced himself on Ranma and now he's going to use their competition today as an opportunity to force himself on Akane.

I kind of want him to die. I am so glad he does not get to stick around and join the cast full-time.

That is easily the best photo of Ryoga that he has ever had taken of him in his life.

A kolkhoz is a type of Soviet farming co-op. I'm not sure why this was chosen for the name of Azusa and Mikado's school.

Do not attempt complex figure skating maneuvers without proper training. I need y'all to understand how many places Akane's skates could have ended up just now after Ranma slipped. This maneuver was way too complex for him.

Okay but felt though. When I was her age, I was exactly this sore of a winner. I hate that this character speaks to me as much as she does.

(Sharp blades hovering over very dangerous places right now.)

Seriously though. Fuck her personally but she is so goddamn cool.

How can you not wish you were this cool? But, y'know, with better taste in partners. And... also better lifestyle choices. This is why people adore villains. Because villains have style.

RANMA

RANMA THERE ARE KNIVES ON YOUR FEET

YOU CAN END THIS RIGHT NOW

RANMA

RANMA

Mikado does this so often in competitions that it's considered a signature move for him. I hate that. I hate him. Ranma, stab him with your footsy knives.

See, what Mikado doesn't know about Akane is that she is basically Furinkan's #1 expert on guarding yourself from pests like him. For her, this is Tuesday.

(Should have put a little more force on it. Ice skates have blades but they aren't ultra-sharp. It takes pressure to cut. Don't worry, Akane, we all make mistakes.)

I love how even Azusa gets in on the karmic steamroll that Mikado's earned for himself.

These two are way too invested in breaking up couples.

Narratively, the purpose this serves is a pretty on-the-nose test of Ranma and Akane's budding relationship. Writers do this with canonships all the time. "Once you swallow this pill you will die a gruesome death unless your feelings for your designated love interest are TRUE!"

This certainly explains Mikado having a signature kissing move.

But it's crazy that these two, whose relationship with each other seems entirely platonic, have made it a point of pride to destroy other people's relationships.

Azusa has shown zero interest in Ranma up to this point. Her thing is losing her cool about cute things. She and Ranma have barely said two words to one another.

But then she's like, "Oh, we're doing a Matchbreak? I'm on it!"

Like. It's not enough for Mikado to be a sex pest and for Azusa to be a cutesy kleptomaniac. They have a vendetta against romance. These two are My Little Pony villains. Who hurt you both?

An interesting detail of the Goodbye Whirl is that Azusa's connection to Ranma is the bond that breaks.

It would have been easy to set up Mikado and Azusa as a high-skill but low-chemistry partnership for Ranma and Akane to overcome through superior trust in one another. But Mikado and Azusa click very well. They both reflect one another's flaws and they have a fantastic level of teamwork, experience, and cooperation.

They didn't become masters of a cooperative sport by being islands.

So it isn't Ranma and Akane's connection that breaks, despite that being the intent of the Goodbye Whirl.

And it also isn't Mikado and Azusa's connection that breaks, because their bond is just as strong if not stronger than Ranma and Akane's.

It's the connection between the two pairs. Ranma and Akane are an iron-forged bond, and Mikado and Azusa are an iron-forged bond, but never the two shall meet.

Ranma and Akane don't outlast Mikado and Azusa. But they do implicitly outlast every couple that the pair have matchbroken in the past. The impulsive and self-indulgent Azusa getting tired, ceasing to care about this, and letting go is the weak point of this technique. But it's a weak point nobody's ever held on long enough to discover before.

There are a lot of words in Japanese that can be translated to the English catch-all "monster". The one here is け化け物 bakemono, which is a shapeshifting occult spirit that impersonates people or objects. It literally translates to "Thing that Changes Shapes".

So, literally, this line translates. Azusa is saying that no human would have survived that, and only a bakemono impersonating human form could still be alive now. "Only a monster would survive that."

But. In context, knowing Japanese, I need y'all to understand how funny this is. Azusa claims that only a bakemono could have survived that, and then Ranma wakes up.

Ranma is a person, not a bakemono. But. I mean... He and P-chan kinda are. They are Shapeshifting Things, which impersonate other kinds of being.

That's not why he survived. He survived because he's been doing Anime Warrior Training for his whole life. But she's not wrong.

And then Akane got unceremoniously ejected from the Couples Duel. Now that her role as Primary Love Interest has been firmly reinforced, she is of no further value to this fight scene. It's time for the boys to take over. Great.

Oh well. At least she got to do that cool flip-kick.

This is not a fakeout, either. Much like when Ranma stole her match with Kodachi from her, Akane will no longer be directly participating in this fight from this point forward.

That cool flip-kick was Akane's one and only contribution to this entire confrontation. Other than that, she's been tossed around by Ranma a couple times, survived the Goodbye Whirl because Ranma wouldn't let go even though she wanted to, and now she's fired so we can have more Ranma and Ryoga shenanigans.

It was the one flip-kick and that's it. That's all she gets. She defended herself from the predator like she said she could last episode, and now she's done. She has no further value that she can add to this fight.

Like, they even made a big fuss over how injured Ranma is. Ranma is so badly hurt that it... inexplicably warrants benching Akane? She has to leave because of his injuries.

Ranma wants to keep Akane from dueling with Ryoga and Akane wants Ranma benched because he's injured, so the compromise they come up with is that the injured Ranma will duel with Ryoga.

Like. I get that Ranma and Akane can't go out there together like this because heteronormativity, gotta have a M/F partnership, all that jazz. But if Ranma's injuries aren't going to be a problem then they can just excuse themselves for a moment, hot water Ranma in the back room, and get back to Ranma and Akane dueling.

I mean. Hell, they could probably get away with doing it right out here. Azusa's already pegged Ryoga as Charlotte and requires no explanation for how that's possible.

She doesn't even know about Jusenkyo curses and she accepts this without question.

There is absolutely no reason why Akane would need to retire from the rink right now and I'm kinda mad about it, especially right after the Kodachi thing.

This is why people think she's boring. This is what makes her the most divisive character in the series, with a fandom either loving or hating her with no middle ground. Akane is an interesting and relatable character, but she isn't allowed to do things. Even when it makes absolutely no sense to suddenly banish her from her own storyline like this.

I honestly think Takahashi just couldn't think of a good way for Ranma and Akane to win this fight. The match has thoroughly been established to be too heavily skewed against them for them to prevail. Last episode/chapters established that they'd take this in a street fight, no contest. But this episode/chapters establishes that their skills just aren't enough to overcome the disadvantage of the ice rink.

So... bye, Akane, I guess. Enter Ryoga and the Ryoga-esque complications that will form the answer to this unwinnable fight. Now we get the absolute shenanigans of this episode's back half, as well as the arc's final chapters that will form the next episode. For which Akane will be nearby cheering for her boys.

[thoscheienjoyer]

So the master has always been a little suicidal let's be real, and 90% of the time he tries to drag the doctor with him: spy telling 13 to blow them both up, ainley telling 7 to fight him on a collapsing planet, ainley snapping and trying to blow up the universe on purpose, Delgado trying to go back and time and risking fucking up him and 3's current life, Missy and Saxon unleashing Cybermen despite themselves etc.

So I wrote a story about koschei also having those thoughts and asking theta to join out of devotion, I assume most of the examples of the master are out of bitterness but with koschei is out of wanting an end to the constant drumming

Theta and Koschei sat on the edge of a cliff overlooking Gallifrey, the twin suns were low, coating the landscape in a golden glow of colors. The Academy loomed in the distance, but here they were free from the pressures and expectations they had. They often escaped to this spot to take in the beauty of their home planet, however, the usual tranquility was gone. Koschei had been unusually restless, his eyes were distant, like he was focused on something else. Theta noticed but didn't want to press his friend too soon, he knew about the drums, the relentless pounding that haunted Koschei’s mind, and had done everything he could to help, but they never fully went away so he assumed maybe this behavior was related.

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the cliff, Koschei finally spoke, his voice showing no sign of how he felt, it was matter of fact. "You know, if we jumped off this cliff together it would prove what great friends we are, wouldn't it?"

Theta's hearts skipped a beat and he turned to look at Koschei, trying to read the expression on his face. Was this just a morbid joke, or something more? He chose the first for some peace of mind. "Would we hold hands?" he joked uncomfortable, trying to keep his tone light but his concern was evident.

Koschei met his gaze, his eyes filled with a seriousness that sent a chill down Theta's spine. "Yes," he replied softly. "We would."

Theta swallowed hard, "Koschei, why would you ever think about something like that?"

Koschei crumbled and began to shake like a leaf from trying to hold back the emotions spilling all at once, "The drums, Theta, the drums! They're unbearable! But what's more unbearable is the thought of leaving you all alone. I can't bear the thought of a life without you so you must feel the same about me, if we die together, maybe... maybe my next regeneration won't hear them anymore?"

Theta felt a wave of sorrow and fear wash over him. He reached out, taking Koschei's hand in his own, holding it tightly, his other held his face. "Koschei, listen to me. I know it's hard but this isn't the answer. I promise you, one day, I will find a way to fix it. I will help you, but you have to hold on. Please, don't ever think about doing something like that again?"

Koschei's composure broke, and he began to cry, his body trembling more with the force of his sobs. "I just want it to stop, Theta! I want it to stop so badly!"

Theta pulled him into a tight embrace as he cried. "I know, Koschei. I know. But you have to stay with me. We’ll get through this together. I won’t leave you alone with this, I'm right here. "

They sat there for a long time, long enough for the suns to set. Theta continued to hold Koschei, whispering words of comfort and reassurance. As the stars appeared in the Gallifreyan sky, Koschei's sobs gradually subsided. He remained in Theta's arms, exhausted from all his emotions . For now, that was enough.

In the quiet of the night the only sound was their breathing, it was soothing to them both, to Theta because it was a reminder his friend would stay alive, and to Koschei because it was a reminder his friend wouldn't leave him to deal with this alone.

Oh the angst of knowing his friend WILL indeed leave him to deal with this alone

[humanityissstrange]

When the aliens found earth, there were several factions, but it took decades to realize the heads of every faction were puppets, propped up to give the illusion of choice.

Pick your factions, pick your puppeteers, pick your driving motivations as you please, but there's only one group of puppeteers, regardless of how diametrically opposed the factions appear to be.

The Religious, supposedly many groups, supposedly holding no lands, but holding majority sway in many of the most violent and impoverished countries, with their congregations just doing what they were told in the name of God/the gods/ancestors/karma or whatever the local group espoused, and their leaders answering to a hierarchy that was either secretly supplanted by or outright created by one institution in particular, founded by an emperor from the butchered corpses of the religions of his day, and predating most forms of technology beyond basic metallurgy. Violent extremists ready to die for their cause embedded in nearly every nation ensure that none move against their interests too strongly.

The Structured, who have rigid societal systems that may or may not allow transitions between castes, and pursue efficiency and predictability. Those in the upper tiers fight amongst themselves viciously while their lessers cling doggedly to patriotic purpose, medicate themselves into a non-sapient haze, or kill themselves. Often all three, in that order. Their soldiers are generally brainwashed and their leaders are entirely unconcerned with collateral. After all, what use is the machine they have mounted with such effort, if not to build what they wish, and destroy what opposes them?

The Free, a rabid mob led by feelings and a constant stream of peer pressure from their omnipresent technology, that spends their time decrying the latest in the chain of liars to lead them and violently attacking one another over their perceived differences rather than questioning why their ballots only ever feature liars, or finding ways to do better. While it is near impossible to prevent the transmission of information in a technological society, it is incredibly easy to drown it in refuse and ridicule anyone who dares look at it. It is hard to stop the river of human consciousness, but shockingly easy to dye and divert it as one pleases, so long as you don't need precision.

The Profiteers, an alliance of less ignorant and more amoral members of most nations, and owners of a few. They ask one question in response to any and every thing to ail their fellows. "Now how can this be used to benefit me?" Bankers, corporate shareholders, political leaders, media personalities and mid-level religious figures all fall within this category, none hold to the ideals of their place, but are allowed to go on because they smooth logistics and are very effective saboteurs if ousted. They play symbiont to the upper echelons and parasite to the lower, which positions them as easy scapegoats should any of the chattel ever decide that enough is enough, and resort to violence.

The Equals, only ever scavengers feeding on the carrion of profiteers who overstayed their welcome, they rapidly self-destruct or transition to Structured or Free as soon as their twice-stolen wealth runs low, while their leaders abscond with whatever remained to join the Profiteers instead.

Three billion people, divided amongst these groups, according to our analytical algorithms connected to their Internet.

The "reset" a cyclic purge of population prevented them from growing too numerous, and after we saw the results, we asked the computer who or what ensured the reset would happen.

Twelve hundred people not in any category was the answer. Not mentioned on the Internet, no papers of identification, just inferred from holes in the information.

They did not rule anywhere, nor were they known to the public. But the ones who did rule, the ones at the head of every faction, answered to them.

Bored monsters, selectively bred for intelligence, not empathy, and trained from birth to see themselves as superior. The world as their sandbox, wargaming against one another to keep themselves sharp.

[simalexdiecasting]

Innovation in Zinc Die Casting Alloys: Driving Progress and Performance

Utilise zinc die casting alloys to stay on the cutting edge of innovation. This dynamic industry is always changing, bringing better performance, better surface finishes, and shorter lead times. Learn about the most recent innovations and growing trends in zinc die-casting alloys and how they are improving product efficiency and quality in a variety of sectors.

[zaolat]

OC Deep Dive: Domenica Gallo

what common/uncommon fear do they have?

Domenica has Existential Thanatophobia - that is, an intense fear of ceasing to exist after death. She has already died, technically, so she isn't necessarily afraid to die, and she knows that souls exist, and she has passing knowledge of things such as Wraiths - but she knows there are ways that the soul can cease to exist or be obliterated entirely. Namely, diablerie. This translates into an intense fear and abhorrence of diablerie, and she cannot fathom why some subsects of her clan practice it from sire to childe (especially since she is close with her own sire).

do they have any pet peeves?

It is not relevant to most Kindred/Cainites but it is a pet peeve of hers that carries over from her time as a mortal. SEASON. YOUR. FOOD. She is southern Italian and Mediterranean judgement is eternal.

what are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

Domenica keeps her true valuables down to a few things she can easily grab in case she and her sire have to move on short notice due to danger. But there are a few things that are always consistent. Namely her grandmother's rosary, a book written completely in Enochian that was given to her by her sire, and usually at least one cat curled up sleeping on the bed.

what do they notice first in a person?

Body language is key to her - how someone is standing, whether they're relaxed or nervous, their expression, whether they're observing their surroundings, whether they're observing her. Not only is this key to Domenica's own survival as an Autarkis Salubri, but it also tells her how she should interact with people if she's speaking with them one-on-one.

on a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

Honestly, she wasn't that experienced with pain during her mortal life, and she's Healer caste, not a Warrior or Watcher. Early on it's rather low, at a 3/10, but will increase as she gets older and encounters more hardships. Theoretically she can heal her own wounds and never has to deal with pain for that long, but she is overly concerned with others over herself.

do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? (or freeze and fawn)

Domenica is in danger the most from other Kindred, so her instinct is to fawn and convince them she's not a threat or that she's useful. If that doesn't work it's a toss up as to what she'll do: fight or flight.

what animal represents them best?

A deer. Prey to most, and good hunting for those looking for a target. But she's not a doe, she's a stag. And G-d forbid you mess with her herd, because those horns are sharp.

how would a stranger likely describe them?

A demure young woman with kind eyes, a shy smile, skin freckled light the night sky, and black curls falling out of her bandana who looks like she wants to just disappear into the crowd.

do they have any hobbies?

She's a stargazer, you better believe she's pulling her sire outside for every meteor shower or lunar eclipse or other astronomical event and she knows all the intricate details about why exactly said event is happening, with hand drawn charts and equations that he definitely doesn't understand because he's several thousand years old and hasn't taken Calculus 4 and graduate level physics in university. Besides that she is also a casual video game enjoyer and sews!

I was tagged by @kavalyera! THANK YOU SO MUCH THIS WAS SOOO MUCH FUN TO DO!!! I got to ramble about my girl!!! I have such brainworms about her and she is sooo self indulgent <3

Most of my vtm mutuals have already been tagged and I'm always too shy to tag people anyway sooo 🫵 YOU'RE TAGGED! If you've done this already and want to do it again here's your excuse! And if you're a non-vtm mutual or follower who wants to yell about your oc GO AHEAD! Consider yourself tagged!

[man--eater]

WIP Wednesday 10/9/24 It Will Come Back

I’m working on an Alastor/Daphne oneshot for Halloween that I am super excited about—a spooky little New England folktale AU where Alastor has been cursed and thrown out of Hell and time, and spends centuries haunting the forests of New England as a monster, unable to change himself back. It’s set when Daphne lived on earth, in the mid-1600s in the Puritan society of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. And one cold winter night, something comes knocking on her door....I am working on art for it too, and weeping as I do my best to write what dialogue there is in Early Modern English (send help):

“Dost thou desire to shelter hither?” Daphne asked, holding her fear in check with an iron grip. The beast's red gaze was terrible to bear—its eyes were so unnaturally bright that the lantern looked dim in comparison. Its open maw slavered, dripping blood onto the threshold of her house. It took a step closer in an awkward movement; one of its forelimbs was curled around its breast. A spatter of blood fell from between its fingers, steaming as it melted through the deep snow. The creature made a sound—the soft bleat of a deer, not the terrible screams she had heard in the woods, and it looked past her to where the fire crackled on the hearth. Great clouds of vapour rose from its nose, so cold was the night. “Enter, if ye mean me nay harm,” Daphne said, stepping aside to clear the doorway. The creature whickered, flicking its ears back and forth, and tucked its head low and limbs close to squeeze inside after her. Her pulse pounded in her throat as it rose taller, its presence dominating the room. In the firelight, it cast long, eerie shadows on the walls, leaving her outnumbered and surrounded. But if it meant to attack her, or eat her, why would it wait on the step in such a strange mimicry of politeness? Why not simply snatch her when she opened the door? Why knock at all, when doubtless it was perfectly capable of tearing the door from its frame? Daphne had no more time to think, however, because the creature collapsed to the floor by the fire, curling in on itself. With its too-bright eyes closed and all its long, rawboned limbs tucked away, it looked far sorrier and much less alarming. It cautiously lifted its hand from its chest, and a fresh gout of blood poured onto the floorboards until it resumed placing pressure on the wound, groaning. Any man would die of such a wound—she did not know what the beast was, but she doubted it would survive.

tagging @sunsetofdoom @copaline @cuttletoon @castawayinhxll @verona2314 @oakishdelights and @cynical-kitten (no pressure! <3)

[thetriumphantpanda]

If you're still taking prompts, how about "you can kiss me you know" with Javi G? Please

I really like your writing and I don't think many people write for him. Thank you for sharing your writing.

You have NO IDEA how happy I am that someone requested Javi G. I love this man and I would easily lay down my life for him, so thank you! 🫶🏼 There's no actual smut in this one, just romantic, puppy-dog Javi G, but if enough people are interested I might do a part two with smut? Let me know what y'all think.

And thank you for being such a darling and complimenting my writing, I'm so glad you enjoy it! 😚

Pairing | Javi Gutierrez x Female Reader

Word Count | 657

The ocean was calm as you looked out at it, the low evening sun casting a mixture of orange and pink across it. Even when the waves broke below you it was calm, the warm evening breeze doing nothing to cool your hot skin. 

“You look beautiful in the sunset.” Javi mused, his hand rested at your back, he’d just filled up your champagne glass with more liquid which was pooling delightfully in your stomach. 

Javi Gutierrez was not your usual type. Sure, he was handsome and absolutely loaded with money, but he was soft and gentle and a little withdrawn. That was until you’d asked him about his favourite film, and he’d launched off about all sorts, talking with his hands with his face lighting up like you’d given him the world. 

As first dates went it had been nice enough. He’d insisted on dinner at his lavish home, you’d sat out on the terrace as a waiter brought a full three courses from the kitchen. You’d drank far too much champagne to be sensible so had said yes when he asked if you wanted to try shooting. It had gone as well as could have been expected, with shots ringing off into the water and the two of you laughing with a promise that Javi would try and teach you if you wanted to come back. You’d been here hours, longer than you’d ever usually spend with someone on a first date and the closest he’d gotten to kissing you was to hold your hand as he watched you eat your dessert. 

You turned to him and smiled, his shirt was a dark orange colour, loose-fitting with short sleeves and a frankly obscene number of buttons undone, showing off a fair bit of his golden chest, which you couldn’t help but focus on now the champagne was doing most of the talking for you. 

“So do you.” You’d replied with a smile, watching as a soft blush creeped onto his face. 

“I’ve had a really lovely evening with you,” He spoke, putting a bit more pressure on your back, “I hope I’ll be able to see you again?” There was a hopeful look in his eyes that you couldn’t bear to break, and you found yourself not wanting to. 

“Of course, you promised to teach me how to shoot after all.” 

He smiled and for a second you thought this would be the moment he kissed you, but instead he picked up his glass of champagne and drank. 

“You can kiss me, you know?” 

His head snapped to look at you, his body turning so he was leant against the wall on one elbow. 

“You’d like me to kiss you?” He asked, those puppy-dog eyes you’d fallen for right at the start boring holes into your soul. 

“Yes Javi, in fact if you don’t I think I might die.” 

He smiled at you, shuffling himself closer before cupping your face in his hands and doing just that. He pressed his lips to yours softly and you melted, letting your hands come up to rest on his biceps as you moving to press your body into him. His scent was overwhelming, masculine and sweet and fruity all at the same time, you made a mental note to find out what cologne he wore because you were going to always need this in your senses, even when he wasn’t there. 

You opened your mouth against his, feeling as he did the same and then his tongue was on yours, molding into one as they tangled together. You could taste the champagne and the fruity ice cream from earlier in his mouth which made your tongue more urgent, wanting to soak up everything you could about this man. 

He pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours as you let out a breathless sigh, “Would you like to go inside?” He asked. 

“Only if inside means to your bedroom.” 

[visionthefox]

silly comment (tsams)

im so sorry most of my post are related to this show I PROMISE I will be over it soon just..wanna say someting.. Solar is aware of old Moon's bad past.. oh shocker! - but also! it is! he had seem to know of OldMoon BEFORE he even moved in- sure.maybe NewMoon vented over his old self, how he is sad Sun was still missing him while also trying to pretend to be ok.. and a comment I guess many had forgotten was this

Solar.. had told Moon to MAKE SUN JOING HIM, before he himself was taking in missions.. Now.. why I mention this? is believed that he and NewMoon dont see Sun as someone capable to even control himself, by the passing comment on how "stupid" he is.. yet.. part of me thinks that- While Moon has this "savior" mentality of "I must protect. and by that also lie!" idea, having him not only lie to Lunar yet also Sun too if even by a short time.. Solar himself may just be both worried to see another Sun die? and feel like he didnt do enough to save him- but also just keep a distance.. he clearly cares to keep everyone safe. he clearly does care.yet he also is unable to show this. or even mention it. when in the special christmas ep. he walked out. yet stood nearby. and with Moon? he had soften so much and build a bigger trust bond. what I say is. Solars motive to push Sun away are different. as he himself is aware Sun is not found of him.. may not even see him as a family!

(the Oh here is so low, yet clearly not very happy)

he doent know? was he really unaware? of did he just didnt wanted to think of Him like this? so Solar is aware of Sun's stress, is aware of how Sun is treated, he himself adds to it by mere pressure to just be on Moon's good side, so he knows if he and Sun go along? is gonna be stressing for both.. and Moon? HE is the one who CHOOSED to push Sun to the side.. when he himself had promised to be better.. if only he had helped Sun train? maybe help him control his emotins like those galaxy kiddos do with Lunar? then Sun could be involved. Sun's magis is not even CLOSE to that of Lunar. yet he has it, he mentioned it on the last lore vid

is annoying to see the cast treath Sun like he didnt -WON aganst a winthertorm -WON and survived a MAGIC BLAST. -hell SURVIVED with old Moon and his own KC, by 10 years.. 10 years of ABUSE (hear that Lunar?? huh!) Sun is emotinal- not weak!