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#and hit me in the face at high velocities

awkwardsonicphotos · 1 year

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So awhile ago I talked about how Sonic’s quills spike when surprised etc., but now I want to talk about the spines themselves. Hedgehog spines are actually super cool. They can be quite flexible due to how humid they are. Less humid quills are more brittle but still strong while more humid quills can have some give and bend. Quills can also freely bend and move in many directions thanks to the tipped bulbs in the hedgehog’s skin.

I took a video of Thistle to show how movable quills really are on a hedgehog.

So pictures of Sonic’s quills like this

And even Shadow’s one idle animation is pretty accurate to real hedgehog spines.

Spines are also built to stay in a hedgehogs body unlike porcupines which can detach. A hedgehog spine is so strong you can pick up a hedgehog by single spine and it won’t detach. A single spine can also withstand and bend against up to 200 times the force that would crush it. One scientist noted that he’d never seen a hedgehog with a broken or dulled quill. (Hedgehog quills can be cut from lawn mowers or hedge trimmers so always be careful and aware if you live near wild hedgehogs.)

While spines are used against predators they are also used for shock absorption. When a hedgehog is completely curled up their spines will absorb incredible amounts for force from falls from trees or high areas.

One study showed, “quills protected from a fall at 15m/s. Despite the velocity at impact, the animal survives unscathed due to the shock absorbing capabilities of its spines, which buckle under the load.” Because of this people have been studying hedgehog spines to better make helmets to protect people from concussions and head injuries.

Sonic’s drop dash could protect Sonic from large falls. (Too bad he mostly lands on his face lol)

One scientific paper I recently read did a study on the durability of hedgehog quills against repeated high velocity impact blows. It concluded that while low humidity quills were better at absorbing shock, repeated impact blows weakened the durability and broke the brittle quills. While more humid quills absorbed less shock but remained more durable and survived the repeated impacts with less damage. They said more tests would have to be done because most people only studied the strength of one quill and not all the quills working together like theirs did. But that their test may not be entirely accurate since they could not fully replicate the hedgehog’s skin/muscles working with the spines against the blows. As the bulb tip on a hedgehog's quills protect their skin from the quills being stabbed back into them after falls or hits.

But the results concluded that, “in certain conditions, Hedgehog spines can absorb as much, if not more, than industry standard impact-absorbing foam.”

Just makes me wonder how strong Sonic’s quills are as he uses his to break robots at high speeds. But him using his quills to protect himself while also using them to attack is pretty smart.

#hedgehog facts #long post #sonic the hedgehog #sorry I just find this stuff to be really cool #hedgehogs are fascinating creatures

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koisuko · 11 days

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Hello, I was wondering if you would write a romantic Smoke x female reader, about Smoke trains the reader self defense but they start to flirt and become handy with each other?

Yesss, more Tomas lovers!

Tw: handsy behavior, flirtation, may contain lewd suggestions, fem reader, no use of y/n

You are far from incapable of taking care of yourself, and Tomas knew that. But having a boyfriend who was both a ninja, and had ninja enemies, he was worried for your safety. Often times, his mind would run wild with ‘what if’ questions. ‘What if I’m not there to save her’ ‘what if something happens to her’ ‘what if she gets taken, or worse’ and many more. So, to set his mind at ease, you agreed to train with him and learn some basic self defense. It couldn’t hurt to learn something new, and maybe you’ll be able to fight along side him…someday.

Every morning, you two would wake up early to have the training grounds to yourselves. Tomas wanted to make sure that you felt comfortable, and wouldn’t be shy or embarrassed if you made a mistake in front of others. Plus, you two would have alone time to be yourselves without any on lookers giving awkward side-eyes.

Today, training was done a little bit earlier than usual. The moon hung high over the sky, bathing the courtyard in an almost ethereal glow. The calls of night life offered a backdrop to the sounds of grunts and exerted breaths. “Good, again.” Tomas repeated, repositioning himself opposite of you with a twirl of his Karambit. Blankets of heavy smoke swirled around his figure, moving to settle beside him on either side. You nod, careful to perfect your defensive stance. The role was simple, Tomas wouldn’t go easy on you, as promised, and you would work on your defense as if against a real enemy. “Remember,” he spoke, “don’t be afraid to hit me, okay?” You hesitated at first, but nod reluctantly. With the confirmation out of the way, he charged at you, running low with his karambit held at his side. You tried your best to keep your confidence, but seeing him run at you was intimidating, causing your stance to falter and allowing him an opening to attack. Before long, your back collided harshly against the ground. The sheer velocity nearly knocking the wind out of you. Tomas kept you beneath him with his thighs firmly closed around you, forcefully keeping your arms at your side. His arms caged either side of your head, and the close proximity of his lips to yours was making you blush. "Do not hesitate, be sure of your actions or you create an opening for attack." His words bounced off the skin of your cheek. The best part of this whole situation, he seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on you.

He paused in his movements, giving you a questioning look. His head tilted to the side as his eyes trail along the contours of your face. He was confused, concerned even, at the red hue swallowing your cheeks and your parting lips gasping for air. “What’s wrong?” Tomas asked, his brows knitted together. The only response you could give, was a pathetic squeak, squirming beneath him while turning your face away to provide at least some space between the two of you. To your surprise, he grasped the base of your jaw, turning your gaze to meet his once again. “Do you need a break?” He was still blissfully unaware, the stupid look of concern still written on his features. “I-I’m fine, Tomas,” you replied. Tomas loosened the pressure of his thighs on your body, giving you the prime opportunity to use your weight and strength to reverse the roles. With a thud and a grunt, he was now beneath you, your face still flush with embarrassment. Tomas was surprised, is eyes shot wide from the sudden turn of events. “V-very good, you did well!” He blushed at the sudden power you had, his stutter causing you to giggle in response. “I think I like you better from this angle,” you smirked, placing a hand on his chest. You pushed yourself up, reaching out to help him. You could feel the slick sweat of his palms between your clasped hands. He was nervous, in a good way of course. Tomas unknowingly had a love struck smile on his face, hearts nearly visible in his pupils. He cleared his throat awkwardly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. Tomas took a deep breath to gather courage before approaching, gingerly placing a hand on your waist, “you did well today.” For a split second, he admired the shape of you, every bump and curve that created you. His eyes trailed back up to meet yours with a tender smile. “Let’s get some rest.”

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stargirlrchive · 1 year

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folklore drabble: i’m unglued, thanks to you ✩ jake sully

masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ folklore masterlist

summary: in which you realize you're in love

word count: 504

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“I need a break.”

Jake shook his head stubbornly, his hands lightly slapping yours back in place to position you where you needed to be. Your arms were shaking, fingertips sore from the constant pulling of your bow. “I much prefer using a knife, this hurts.”

Jake huffed in annoyance, you were making it so difficult. “I prefer to not have you so up close with someone when it comes to a fight.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, blinking dumbly as they warmed you from the inside out. You knew he didn’t mean it, at least not in the way your heart took it. Nerves bubbled in your chest as he gripped at your arms once again, your brain went blank as his entire body engulfed yours. “Come on, focus!”

With the little strength you had left, your fingers pulled back, eyes narrowing in on the low hanging fruit Jake deemed as the target. With a final tug your fingers let go, the arrow snapping forward with high velocity and it hit the target dead center. The fruit cracked in half, your arrow landing deep in the tree bark nearby.

Your tail swished excitedly, running towards your bow to try and tug it out. Jake whistled behind you, your arrow had landed so deep into the tree only half of it was sticking out. “Remind me to never anger you.”

A quiet laugh left your throat, your fingers tracing over the arrow. “You’re a natural.”

Your cheeks burned a dark shade, his words causing your heart to thump rapidly. “Thank you.”

The darkness began to settle all across the forest, and as you moved away from the arrow, your mind felt it hazy. Like the threads that made you, you, we’re beginning to unravel in the presence of the Olo’eyktan.

An uncomfortable feeling settled in your throat as you looked at Jake’s face. The small scars that littered like stars all over him. His once boyish charm now sharpened by the years at war, now a man who aged gracefully despite the cards that life dealt him.

Guilt gripped at your chest at how your heart swirled with hope. Hope that one day he’d see you how you were seeing him in this moment. “Are you alright?”

You were snapped out of your inner turmoil at his voice, he wasn’t even looking at you but you felt so open, exposed to him in the privacy of the forest. Scared he’d be able to read your mind. “Fine. Yes.”

If he noticed the way your voice wavered with fear he did not mention it. “Let us head back? I have not seen the kids all day.”

He only hummed to let you know he heard you, and with quick steps you made your way back to High camp. On your silent retreat back you prayed to the Great Mother to remove these thoughts from your mind. Vowing to yourself you’d never let Jake into your heart, not in the way it so desperately wanted.

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#jake sully #jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully #jake sully angst #jake sully smut #avatar twow #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 #avatar the way of water #avatar 1 #avatar x reader #avatar #avatar smut #folklore: jake sully ୨୧ #avatar 2

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sweaterkittensahoy · 21 days

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this is soooooo insanely self indulgent but for fic prompts could u write something where bucky is so attracted to buck’s brain to the point where it’s literally a turn on but buck is used to people not caring (his shitty parents) so he doesn’t really get it

The biggest trick any unit has to learn is what to do with downtime. There's things to do in Boise, but it's important to not just let the boys loose every day and night they aren't training.

Lectures are semi-popular. Buck offers up a few on science. High-school level stuff explaining physics and chemistry. Things a lot of the boys already know a little about and want to know more.

Bucky slips into the back of the room for one of them, standing against the wall because there's no free space to sit. It makes him smile. Buck's whole face lights up when he figures out a good topic for a lecture, and Bucky's glad to see how many seem to like them.

Buck steps up to the lectern and grins at the boys. "Who wants to figure out the best order to lose all four engines and survive?" he asks.

"Can we figure it out the other way, too?" Hambone asks, which makes everyone laugh, even Buck.

"Sure," he says. "But I'll let anyone who doesn't want that knowledge cut out before we talk about it."

Bucky chuckles as Buck turns towards the chalkboard and someone sends a paper airplane through the air, hitting Buck in the back.

"Douglass, that's five demerits," Buck says.

There's a few moments of tussling around Douglass as his friends give him grief, but they all go quiet when Buck turns to face the room again and says, "Okay, let's talk gravity."

Bucky follows the lecture easily. He and Buck have had these conversations before, Buck breaking down the science when Bucky can't follow, making sure he can explain it back to him before he picks up again. It means he can relax and simply watch Buck.

Buck's got the room's attention, his deep voice carrying easily, and the loose-limbed way he moves keeping everyone's attention. He walks the boys through equations and illustrations, drawing a full layout of the fuel line hosing from memory to help the discussion about how gravity and mass and velocity all wrap together to affect which engine has the best chance of running the longest even if the fuel pressure drops.

Bucky shifts his hat, moving it from under his arm to hold in both hands in front of his belt to hide the fact that his dick is half-hard. Buck's face is bright and relaxed as he answers a question about the equation. Bucky watches the pilot who asked the question nod along as he makes sense of Buck's answer.

He's so goddamn smart, Buck is. It makes Bucky feel like his insides are sparking when it's on display like this. Buck knows so much and explains it all so well. He's so open with what he knows and never tires at questions or confusion. Watching him be happy to share makes Bucky want to cut the lecture short so he can kiss him silly, taste the chalk dust that's settled on him, and tell him how amazing he is.

The lecture ends, and the room empties out. Bucky stays put, nodding to a few of the boys who say hello. Buck stays up at the front of the room, looking at the chalkboard like he's appreciating his own work.

"Another sold out show," Bucky says once they're alone.

Buck turns and ducks his head. "I think I'm the only show on today."

"That's not true, and you know it," Bucky replies, pushing off the wall and walking slowly up the center aisle to Buck. "You had them eating out of your hand, like always."

"It's just about finding the right way to explain it," Buck says. "That's not hard."

Bucky stops close enough to Buck that their buttons brush together. "You are so goddamn smart it makes me crazy," he says. "You know all this stuff, and you can explain it, and you can figure out how to make it interesting for anyone."

Buck slips a hand over Bucky's hip and shifts so he can slip a leg between Bucky's. "Did I get you riled up again, Major?"

"You rile me up every fucking second," Bucky says, cupping the side of Buck's neck. "But, yeah, watching you work that big brain in front of a crowd really gets me going."

Buck huffs a laugh and brushes his mouth against Bucky's. Bucky tastes the chalk dust and bites his lip so he doesn't moan. "Only you," he says, and it's deeply affectionate.

"Come on," Bucky says, tilting his head to one side. "Let me suck you off while you rattle off geometry proofs."

Buck snorts and shoves at Bucky, but then he reels him right back in and kisses him properly, a slow, steady movement of their mouths matched with an easy glide of their tongues. "I may be the brains of the operation, but you're the romantic," he says.

Bucky laughs and rocks against Bucky's thigh, sighing when Bucky shifts so there's more pressure on his cock. "Come on," he says, "Let's go find a spot to fuck my brains out."

"Only yours?" Buck asks.

Bucky shivers at the challenge in Buck's tone. "I'll never manage, but I will wear myself out trying."

Buck grins at him and takes one step back, grabbing Bucky's hand and pulling him along. "An equal amount of pressure on both sides," he says. "That's physics."

"Uh-huh," Bucky replies. "Keep talking dirty."

#clegan #prompt #fic #buck is so smart it makes bucky so stupid #he's fine with that #masters of the air

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writingfool001 · 2 years

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Nothing perverted but it's more liked something funny as it happens to me once

How would the reaction of the first years + Grim seeing their very busty friend Yuu top button gives out and just shoots out

Like the button that can't hold on let's go and hits someone face or break a nearby window

The Power of Buttons

Author's Note: I took a random name picker of the first years and Grim. Reminder, only three characters because that's my limit.

Warnings: Powerful Buttons, Gn! Reader, and injuries.

Jack

I mean this completely as a joke, but Jack also suffers from busty chest problems.

You both deal with buttons flying and I imagine that both of you always have spares buttons so you can fix your shirts later.

There was one day where both of you were told to button up your shirt all the way to your collar and you both mentally prepared for what would occur.

Sitting in class, you were both taking notes then you decided to stretch your arms. Right as you extended your arms above your head, a button went flying and ricocheted before breaking a window then hitting someone outside.

He was ready to turn and say something before one of his went flying, following the same path as yours. Immediately, he looks away flustered as both of you hid your faces to not have to own up that it was your buttons that caused some damage. You both learned that day to just get bigger shirts or to just wear the uniform shirts with a couple buttons down.

Crewel knew exactly it was you two but decided to save you from the embarrassment.

Deuce

Deuce usually defends you from anyone who tries to harass or make fun of your shirts. Deuce is your ex-delinquent knight in shining armor. He would offer to fix it and reattach them for you since he remembers learning a thing or two from his mom.

However, one day in class, there were a couple guys trying to provoke Deuce to cause him to likely get in trouble. You both were in Trein's class, who was doing two years in one class because one of the unknown teachers was sick so they could cover the second year class.

As Ace and Grim were snoozing, you heard wood break to see Deice break another pencil as his hand shook and you heard him grumble under his breath. Glancing across the room to see a duo of upper class students, snickering to themselves across the way.

You sigh and stretch a bit before two small snaps are heard. You look down to see two of your top buttons missing and you look around before seeing one of the two upper class students, holding his nose. The other was holding his forehead, leaning his head back with both of his hands covering the area you assume got hit.

You glance over at Deuce, who was in awe at their misfortune before turning towards you and giving him a wink.

Sebek

He always talks about it and tries to lecture you about the problem that you can’t fix. It only got worse when one day, you all were hanging out and the button broke then went flying before hitting his square in the forehead, knocking him down.

He quickly gets up and with a small red bruising on his forehead, he starts yelling as Ace and Epel hide their laughter at the fact that a button with high velocity took down Sebek.

He refuses to tell anyone outside of the group about what happened, he would probably die of embarrassment if Lilia or Malleus found out that a mere button took him down.

After that day, he knows to be careful and on guard around you because you have struck fear into him and one of his many great enemies is flying buttons.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x mc #twst jack x reader #jack howl #deuce spade x reader #deuce spade #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek x reader

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000marie198 · 7 months

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Haven't made a Rottmnt post in a long while. And I found this sitting in my old notes. So why not share it?

Anyways!

I've been noticing it for awhile now but Rise Leo has crazy good aim! And it's not that this is shown just by his teleporting skills with dual katanas but they've been there since the beginning and throughout the series. Nobody has better aim than him.

Whether it's throwing his sword so it passes cleanly though the rising barricade of blades, missing on purpose so it goes straight through the portal at required velocity, perfect basketball dunks, throwing a library book at Donnie's head, throwing a basketball at Hypno's face, freesbeeing the pizza box so it goes straight through the small entrance hole in the hamster ball to lure in a sick Splinter, shooting a sword fish at a mutant crab's face and doing it again with a perfect bullseye after it bounces from the previous hit, thowing another swordfish straight at Hypno's face from several meters away after defeating the crab mutant, slamming an Albearto animatronic with his electric guitar so hard that it flies off to fall straight on the high striker and make full score and just-!

His aim is perfect

Which is why that scene from Lair Games took me completely off guard and had me on edge when I watched it the first time because Leo's aim is supposed to be perfect, why didn't he hit the bullseye?

We understood at the end what was truly going on but now it's easy to tell that Pizza Darts was one of the games he lost on purpose.

#rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rise leo #lair games #rottmnt leonardo #tmnt #tmnt 2018 #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt

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wifetomegatron · 7 months

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HII! I just wanted to say I love your writing so much, it always leaves me with good feelings for the rest of the day lol!

I saw that you’re taking requests and was wondering if you’d be willing to write something for Trailcutter? I don’t see much with him and I’d love to see your take on writing him 💕 sfw or nsfw doesn’t matter.

hi dear, thank you so much for the lovely compliment. what a lovely thing to say <3 and thank you for giving me the opportunity to write about trailcutter, he is indeed underrated, let's change that as i'm starting to grow fond of him !

sober. trailcutter / gn!reader. (nsfw !). (mdni !). drabble.

When Bluestreak asked him how sobriety was going, Trailcutter didn't hesitate — it's good. The blue mech didn't seem convinced, but Trailcutter didn't know what else to say. It is going well. Too well, maybe. Because he's leaning against one of the chairs in Swerve's, and halfway into happy hour, Trailcutter still hasn't ordered anything.

He didn't even want it, despite the sea of mechs drinking and laughing around him. It was the evening after a successful recon mission down in one of the organic planets. The whole crew's here, even Megatron. And despite the co-captain's efforts in smacking the alcoholic out of him, the newfound inability to get drunk didn't come with the sudden want to stop drinking. And the first few months were horrible, but Primus, if they weren't worth it.

You were across the room, making conversation with Nautica and Velocity. All smiles as you nursed your glass of wine. He thinks you look beautiful: cheeks partially flushed as you look up from your lashes. It's funny to notice all the pretty little details he's been missing out on when he's flat-faced drunk and drooling all over the tables. You were kind, patient — persistent, even, considering that you were the first individual to actually sit him down for an intervention. And after a while, he doesn't need to cope anymore. He just wants to remember. To take in the way the lights hit your skin and bounce off the walls, how the music's making him tap his servos to the beat.

So he tells Bluestreak it's the little things. When he called Trailcutter out for lying, the newly appointed director of security gave his friend a shrug, thinking back on the kisses you'd give him after every session in Rung's office. Of how wet and warm your mouth was pressed against his, loving, praising. And not even Nightmare Fuel can replicate the high you give him — soft hands and plush thighs, sprawled atop him as he lifts you by the waist to pull you down his spike. You'd buck into him, sinking inch by inch, whispering into his audials.

You've been so good lately. You'd whine, fingers trying to push past his valve. So strong, so brave...so handsome.

And with that — he'd come apart.

Rung had told him to find healthier alternatives to managing his self-confidence and doubts. Let's just say with you riding him for cycles on end, he doesn't worry about being a one-trick pony anymore.

So yeah, Trailcutter's telling the next mech the same, honest answer: sobriety is going well. You gave him a wink from the end of the room, already walking to him, hips swaying with invitation. Yeah, it's definitely good.

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professorspork · 11 months

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THE BIG RWBY BASEBALL POST

(previously on Leah Combines RWBY With Sports That Had Peak Popularity in The Early 20th Century: 2021 Kentucky Derby Horse Names as RWBY Weapons, Ranked)

Friends, it's that time of year again.

"Baseball season?" you ask. And I say: yes, but also.

"Oh. RWBY hiatus?" you groan, realizing I'm about to do something slightly unhinged.

Bingo.

To make a very long story short, I love these two things, and wanted to combine these two things, and have very strong opinions about these two things, so here we are: a post that makes a functional baseball team out of RWBY characters. True, the Venn diagram of people who like both these things as much as I do to serve as my audience is probably small. True, baseball positions aren't astrological signs and anyone of any personality can play anywhere, but lord knows there are Tropes and I plan to indulge.

SO. I give you the starting nine (plus some bullpen depth) of the Beacon Huntresses:

Pitcher: Weiss Schnee. Among several decisions that are no-brainers, this one is probably the no-brainiest. Weiss is a lefty (always highly in demand for pitchers) and her balletic combat movement style translates perfectly to a distinct delivery mechanic. Weiss is a high velocity, high strikeout pitcher who induces a lot of swings and misses with nasty breaking stuff that dances through the air and paints the corners. Because it brings me joy to think about, I'm going to say that Remnant uses old NL rules so Weiss has to bat, and I'll rank her at like a Cole Hamels-level "hey, that's not embarrassing for a pitcher!" career .400 OPS. Not afraid to sac bunt when she has to, but beats out the throw more often than you'd think.

Catcher: Jaune Arc. Yes yes get in your "White Knight real" jokes while you can about Weiss and Jaune playing as the regular battery. This one was also an easy selection; catchers are valued most highly for their strategic minds and defensive capabilities, with any offense added seen as a bonus. As the latest kerfuffle with the Cardinals blaming Willson Contreras for *checks notes* not being Yadi Molina shows, having trust in your catcher to call the game and be thoughtful in his pitch selection in high-leverage situations is paramount. That's Jaune all over. Probably not much of a power guy but has pop when it counts and is excellent at pitch framing.

First Base: Yang Xiao Long. Okay I promise I'll stop calling every decision a no-brainer but THIS ONE REALLY IS. Yang is your classic slugging first baseman, of whom there are literally too many examples to name-- including many righties YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE LEFTY TO PLAY FIRST OKAY. Yang's a Vladdy. Hits for serious power, but more than that embodies the quality that the best first basemen have: she's The Mayor. Truly iconic first basemen are fun to chat with! They are friendly to all their visitors as opposing players stop over on their way around the diamond; this is Yang to a T. Yang probably used to play center field in high school and got converted to 1B in the minors. Most likely on the team to induce very silly rundowns with goofy, clever, self-sacrificial baserunning. Has a penchant for always hitting homers the next time she faces a pitcher after she's been hit by a pitch.

Second Base: Blake Belladonna. She is all about those scrappy diving catches, and flipping to Ruby quickly so they can turn two (but I'm getting ahead of myself). Blake's a utility infielder who'd be comfortable anywhere but let's be real she likes playing the right field side because she gets sad when she can't easily make smirky meaningful eye contact with Yang at all times, so they keep her at second so she won't pout. Probably hits high average but low slugging. Most likely to volunteer to be a position player pitching during a blowout and then, like. Unexpectedly throw 93 with movement. Definitely steals a lot.

Shortstop: Ruby Rose. Ruby has the brains to be a catcher but to waste/ruin her speed on catcher's legs would be a crime; she's got zippy athleticism written all over her. She bats leadoff because she has excellent plate discipline; she's a hard out and gets on base a ton. Think a DJ LeMahieu or Bryson Stott at his best-- sprays to all fields, and sees pitches in the double digits like every other at-bat because she's happy to stand there and keep fouling it off with an infuriating smile on her face until the pitcher makes a mistake. Steals even more often than Blake does, but specifically is a tricksy little imp on the basepaths like Anthony Volpe-- like she would definitely induce a throw when she was already back at the bag because she dances around. (I s2g there's video of this but I cannot find it anywhere sry.)

Third Base: Penny Polendina. Fast hands, Gold Glove-level defense. Unfortunately she's built in the mold of an Adalberto Mondesi or Byron Buxton where it's like "no better player on earth when she's healthy but she's NEVER HEALTHY;" she's got glass bones and has had multiple weeks-long trips to the Injury List or needed season-ending surgery because something popped or snapped. The sort of player where it's like "god no you don't understand, the game is so much better when she's playing" and it's a heartbreaker because SHE KEEPS GETTING TAKEN AWAY FROM YOU. Once did a bat flip after a home run because Ruby encouraged her to and, like, the bat shattered on the grass somehow because she's that strong.

Left Field: Emerald Sustrai. Because if you ask her, her face turn was... out of left field! Eh? Eh??? Okay yeah sorry. To me Emerald is a 2022 Oswaldo Cabrera situation where they threw her in left because they had nowhere else to put her even though she'd never played it before in the minors but she was just. Instantly extremely good at it. Has great range for tracking down fly balls in foul territory. Very streaky hitter who either runs super hot and super cold with no in-between. Steals a lot but also gets caught stealing a lot because she's impatient (see also: streaky hitter, probably chases out of the zone and has really poor plate discipline). But she's getting better! Most likely to come up with cute home run celebration ideas and then absolutely refuse to take credit for them.

Center Field: Pyrrha Nikos. This is the last of the extremely obvious no-brainers. Pyrrha is your star franchise player in center field; she is your Aaron Judge, your Mike Trout. Hits for average and for power, pure athleticism and grace, the player everyone's heard of even when they don't give a shit about baseball. Also now I'm just thinking about how Mike Trout would 100% be like "actually that cereal isn't very good for you" and Pyrrha would 100% stay up all night riveted to the Weather Channel and then call in to compliment the meteorologist they are the same person. Her catches at the fence are so spectacular, you could swear her glove's magnetized.

Right Field: Nora Valkyrie. Is there a very obvious "designated hitter" joke to be made about Nora "be strong and hit stuff" Valkyrie? Yes, of course. But I already said Remnant doesn't have the DH and let's be real, Nora's got a CANNON for an arm and thus belongs in right. Like I'm talking throws like this beaut from Hunter Renfroe the other day-- you do not run on Nora, because she WILL get you out on what you think is a routine double. Bats cleanup and probably has a whole Bash Brothers routine with Yang, including special handshakes. Definitely a pull hitter.

Regular starting lineup is most likely:

Ruby

Pyrrha

Yang

Nora

Blake

Penny

Jaune

Emerald

Weiss

Rounding out the team in the bullpen are:

Long relief: Lie Ren. When your starter melts down and you need someone to keep things calm and give you like four quality innings without giving up more runs, Ren's your guy. Also very happy to play setup man. Throws a knuckleball, says Nora taught him how, and refuses to give more details when people ask.

Closer: Oscar Pine. Admittedly probably more of a ground ball pitcher than a strikeout guy; he induces weak contact and is always going for the double play. I see him as a David Robertson or Kenley Jansen type who gets himself into jams and then gets out of them and like. Yes more often than not he gets the job done but sometimes he'll give you a damn heart attack about it. OSCAR WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS.

In the process of writing this post Helen asked me who the manager would be and noted Qrow would give absolutely adorable A League Of Their Own vibes. She also suggested that Ozpin (well, Ozma) probably invented baseball in the first place, so... more proof that she's funnier than me.

okay I've been thinking about and then writing this for almost five hours now I have to stop. should I have put some of this behind a cut? probably! but I think it's beautiful, so... sorry but not sorry to all your dashboards <3 I want you to know this included way more specific baseball player comps at one point but I took some of them out so you might have a chance of understanding this <3

#rwby #team rwby #baseball #leah watches rwby #rwby baseball

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astyrial · 7 months

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not until now bucky barnes x fem!reader (fluff) synopsis: you’re no damsel in distress, but he knows that word count: 660 warnings: blood, possible death of a captor masterlist | requests are open

blood drips slowly to the floor. not from high velocity impact spatter, or a blunt object to the back of the head. but rather it runs down your chin and drips to the concrete floor below you. blood soaks your lips to create a cherry red color, the color bleeding onto your teeth.

you spit a wad of blood and saliva onto his dirtied white shoes. he grabs your chin, pulling it up so that it's pointing in his direction. his eyes meet yours and you can now clearly see just how cold his blue eyes are. they're a bright steel blue, the color burning a hole into your soul.

"bitch, you spit on my shoe again and you'll be bleeding from more than your nose," his voice is low, probably lowered on purpose to attract more fear from you.

your face remains unchanged, a small smile lacing your lips. the red stained teeth show a little, as if you were showing him that nothing he could do would scare you. "get your hand off of my face," you whisper as his eyes narrow.

"what'd you say to me?" he gets a little closer, his alcohol ridden breath running along your nose, the only smell in the air being brandy.

you sit up a little straighter so that your face is inches closer to his. "get your hand off of my face!" a mere second after the words spill from your mouth, you lurch forward.

while you would've loved to disarm the man using any other method, your head rams against the man's nose. he stumbles back until he trips on a box that lay in the middle of the room. his head hits the concrete flooring, either causing a concussion or some bleeding.

you take the opportunity to begin pulling at the ropes around your wrists. it's small, easy to get out if you can loosen the knot some. your fingers get ahold of the knot and start pulling at it until you here an annoyingly familiar voice, "so you don't need my help then doll?"

"oh not you," you look up, fingers nearly giving up on the knot as you notice it's who you thought it was, the winter soldier.

he lets out a short laugh, his eyes widening a little as you continue your escape efforts. "look, if natasha sent you, don't bother. i just need to find the flash drive and i'll be out before anyone else comes," you give him a shirt scowl, watching as his metallic arm rests on his hip.

"well you weren't answering comms, she thought you were captured.. which it seems you got yourself out rather easily," barnes walks over to you, his eyebrows lowered as he notices that you still hadn't quite gotten yourself out of the ties, "let me help at least a little, doll."

you look over at him; his blue eyes, softer than that of your previous captor, stare back at you. they're a delicate blue, one that mixes with other colors to become a bright light. you wanna say no, that you have it yourself, that he can get lost. but the look in his eyes are essentially begging you to let him help.

"alright, but i will be taking that flash drive back, not you barnes," you wait for him to finish untying the rather complicated tie (despite it seeming simple from your first look).

he nods, humming a little to indicate that he understands. bucky would never rain on your parade, "oh of course doll. i wouldn't take that from you, promise. now, where do you think it is?"

you feel the rope fall from your wrists and you look back over at bucky. ever since the snap, he's been a changed person. nicer, closer, personable. yet you never fell for his kind, old-fashioned attitude of the world. until now that is. until he looks back at you, nodding while helping you regardless.

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #marvel x reader #marvel cinematic universe

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mcskullmun · 2 months

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Finished listening to red valley season 3 and now have Context for Aubrey waking Warren up and what the whole debrief process there could look like. Just a handful of dialogue between them because I need to process the absolute Shit At High Velocity + Rapidly Spinning Fan combination that was season 3. ¡Major spoilers ahead!

Warren’s leaning back against the sofa of the cottage, still miraculously intact considering the fires that ravaged Red Valley also took out a good chunk of the surrounding forest. Aubrey is in the kitchen, standing over a microwave that hums dejectedly.

Given the circumstances of Warrens last “death” he wasn’t in any place to speculate about what the future might look like when he woke up, but… he looks around at the dusty walls and sun-baked wooden furniture of the cottage, the battered appliances and the patchy clothes Aubrey’s wearing… he would never have pictured this.

‘It’s like we went back 20 years. And got hit with a sandstorm…?’

‘Try 50’ Aubrey murmurs, ‘Or don’t. I pulled that number straight out of my arse’

‘Are you-‘

‘Okay? Haahaaaaa. It wouldn’t exactly be helpful to say “you weren’t there man” but really Warren, you weren’t there. Take all your direst climate change predictions and add “Vast amounts of corporate-targeted terrorism”. Every single high up hoity-toity jumped ship and tried to hit the skip button’

‘And?’

‘What was it Bryony said? “Premium Dead Forever”. Or I guess just dead dead now’

Warren sits upright on the sofa, frowning,

‘What was it like? I mean. You said people just got on with it’

Aubrey wanders into the living room, 44 years of hell written all over her face,

‘It was bad, Warren. A lot of people did some… did some bold things’

She sits down heavily, but tilts her head at Warren’s expectant gaze,

‘You’re staring at me. Look, I’m not about to give you a history lesson because frankly I think it would change this dynamic irreparably and I don’t want to relive the worst forty years of my life. A Lot of people died. Famine, war, fires. The end of the world. It’s not… most countries are still intact. Corporations… ehhh. Aldi made it’

‘That’s… a relief?’

‘Oh. And tumblr. It’s a place now? Or a cult I guess. The internet was patchy for a while’

‘Less reassuring. I’m sure Gor- I- I’m sure Gordon will be relieved’

‘I didn’t keep you two alive for 40 years to have Mr Porlock join a cult’

‘If… if he wakes up I’d cut him some slack. Let a man join a cult if he wants to. It’s 2064’

Aubrey’s frown softens, ‘Of course. After you two are done healing you’re free to do whatever you choose. Red Valley holds no power over you anymore’

‘Th- uh yeah. Thank you’

Warren leans back into the sofa again, deflating under the weight of that realisation. In at least a sense of the word, he’s free.

#red valley fanfic #red valley spoilers #red valley #warren godby #aubrey wood

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pastelitey · 2 months

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Shining Only With The Light You Gave Me

happy Valentine's Day, @peskybirb! i came up with this lovely little Scarian fic for you for the @mcyt-valentines exchange, i hope you love it!

Scar is a human and Grian is a star, this Scar knows for certain. What he's currently hung up on, though, is the question of how much time they'll have together before Grian is inevitably called back to the cosmos, and if stars can learn to love the way that humans so vulnerably do. read on ao3!

When Scar had seen the falling star, he thought the world was ending.

It was just like how he’d pictured the apocalypse would start—with a bright flash and a thunderous booming noise. He’d been up late that night because he couldn’t sleep, so he went into the kitchen to make himself some chamomile tea. He didn’t even like tea, but one of his friends had said something about chamomile tea helping you fall asleep, and Scar liked having little things to believe in, so he chose to believe it was true.

Thankfully when the impact hit, it wasn’t enough to shatter his windows or cause an earthquake like it usually did in the movies. He was lucky to be facing away from the screen door leading to the backyard, because he might have just been blinded by the intense white flash if his back wasn’t towards the windows. He nearly lost his balance when the ground shook and for a moment he thought he was having a nightmare—a really vivid, eerily descriptive nightmare about armageddon.

After Scar had successfully sidestepped the kettle he’d dropped onto the floor, he made his way to the backdoor and wrenched it open. His backyard was small and a little uneven, but whatever had landed in his property had been falling at a high enough velocity to leave the ground even more disturbed than it had been before. It was the middle of the night and in any normal occasion he would need a flashlight, but whatever had found its way into his backyard was emanating a glow that lit up all the surroundings. It was late fall but the backyard was absolutely sweltering, so much so that Scar could already feel sweat beading down his forehead.

He stood in the doorway and stared at the figure that picked itself up from the newly formed crater in the ground. Scar had to raise his hand to shield his eyes, only picking out bits and pieces of the angelic figure in front of him. As the seconds passed it was easier to make out the features of the whatever-it-was that he was not-looking at. Maybe it was his eyes adjusting to the brightness, or maybe it was the whatever-it-was shifting its form.

Glowing, golden skin that pulsed with little veins of light. White-hot hair that was untamed and unruly. A thin, shorter stature. Large, pitch-black eyes that didn’t not resemble black holes.

It dawned on Scar that maybe he wasn’t the protagonist in an apocalypse movie, after all; e was actually the star of an extraterrestrial movie, and he’d just been visited by his very first alien.

“Hello?” said Scar, unsure what else to do. It was still hard to look at the alien, even though the brightness was dimming with every passing second. For some reason he wasn’t scared, not in the slightest. If anything he was excited.

The alien opened its mouth—or, Scar thought that was what it was trying to do, it looked a little more like a hole opening up relatively where the alien’s mouth would be, and revealing a neon red wall of color. A garbled, static-y noise was the only response Scar got, and it hurt to listen to, similarly to looking at the alien’s appearance.

What happened next was a blur. Scar wasn’t sure if it was due to the radiation the alien was clearly giving off, but later he found it hard to recall exactly what happened after he found the alien. He remembered bringing the alien inside once it had cooled down(it was also giving off immense amounts of heat, he remembers that) and trying to give it some tea. He thought that it broke the mug and he vaguely remembered cleaning up spilt tea the next day, and it certainly would explain what happened to that mug that just randomly disappeared from his cupboard.

What Scar did remember most from the whole encounter was that he figured out the true identity of the being that had crash landed in his backyard. It wasn’t some world-ending apocalypse harbinger, and it wasn’t an alien coming to abduct him for unethical science experiments in space.

It was a star. A star had fallen into his backyard.

How cool was that?

- ✰ -

The next morning things were a lot calmer. Now that Scar knew what he was dealing with, he felt confident he could make progress towards communication with the star. And eventually, maybe he could figure out why the star had crash landed in his backyard and help get it back home.

Or stop it from taking over the planet, but he was hoping that the latter was the less likely of the two. Glass half full, and all!

The star looked different when he came out of his bedroom. Its appearance was more or less similar to what it had looked like when he originally found it, but it was definitely becoming more and more human-like every time he saw it. That morning the glowing skin had dulled, even though there was still a vague yellowish tint present. The star had definitely cooled down a lot but still retained a high enough temperature that kept the room heated without the boiler’s help. Its hair was still that white-hot color, but looked more textured. The most notable of differences, Scar appreciated, was the eyes were no longer black vortexes, but had slimmed down to regular old eyeballs, with irises and pupils and scleras. The star was dressed, thankfully, although Scar wasn’t sure what he would see if it were undressed, since it appeared to be mimicking his appearance. Gosh, he couldn’t wait to start learning!

It was really slow going, and even though Scar had been expecting that, he really wasn’t enjoying the language barrier separating the two of them. Part of him had been hoping that it would be like those alien movies where there’s a miraculous speech translator that allows the two species to communicate effortlessly, but Scar should have known better by that point that this was nothing like the movies.

The star seemed to understand Scar perfectly fine, but its speech was still that horrible garbling noise that made Scar feel like he’d broken a bunch of glass in the garbage disposal. They were at it all morning—Scar asking simple questions, only for the star to try and answer to varying degrees of success. Apparently the star was better at mimicking appearances than it was at mimicking speech patterns.

They took a break around lunch time, and Scar decided to investigate the crater in the backyard after he’d had his meal. No debris had been left over from the crash, thankfully, so he reasoned that the star literally fell out of the sky. The damage could have been a lot worse, but Scar still wasn’t sure how he was supposed to explain to his landlord and the landscapers what had happened. He’d already decided no one could know about his new star friend, he didn’t want the government coming to abduct it!

Scar had been pacing around the crater and inspecting it from various angles for five minutes by the time the star came out to join him. It stood just beside him and stared down at the hole, as well. Slowly, it crossed its arm against its chest, copying Scar’s posture. It made him smile.

“Sorry.”

It wasn’t much at all, but Scar could make it out amongst the garbling and radio static. When he looked at the star, it was staring up at him with those dark eyes. He hadn’t yet decided if they were more like black holes, or a window into the dark cosmos themselves.

Scar’s smile widened. They were making progress.

“It’s okay,” he said slowly, hoping it registered. He put a hand on his chest. “Scar.” He sounded out the consonants of his own name, hoping he got the point across.

The star said nothing for a long moment. The heat rolled off of its body in waves and was comforting against the chill in the early November air.

Finally, the star opened its mouth and tried again.

“Scar.” It reached out and put a hand against Scar’s chest in roughly the same spot Scar’s hand had been moments earlier. The touch was uncomfortably warm, but Scar couldn’t find it in himself to care. The star was talking in english! And it said his name!

Scar had a good feeling about this.

- ✰ -

The easiest way to get the star to learn English quickly was through movies, and thankfully, Scar had plenty of those on hand. It was as simple as popping a movie into the TV and letting the star watch while he was doing other things around the house. He was a little nervous to leave the house for work at first, but when he made it back home the star was exactly where he’d left it: sitting in front of the TV and watching through the entire Star Wars cinematic universe.

Once they had nailed spoken language, things moved quicker. With every passing day the star became more and more human-like, and slowly its speech began to become more coherent and less like a broken radio. It was still uncannily warm, but Scar didn’t have to be worried about it breaking or melting his appliances anymore (he’d already had to buy a new hairbrush, order a new toaster, and one of his kitchen chairs now had scorch marks on it).

But the biggest issue of all was figuring out personal information about the star. The star certainly knew things about Scar—his name, his routines, his food preferences—but Scar knew nothing about it. Where did it come from? Was it from the Milky Way, or some other far off galaxy? How was Scar supposed to refer to the star? Did it have a preferred name, preferred pronouns? Could stars even comprehend the complexities of gender?

Scar decided the best way to go about it was to let the star show him where it came from. If the star was from the Milky Way, he could use a simple google search to help locate where the star came from, and maybe find its name along the way!

Unfortunately, the star didn’t seem to understand what Scar was trying to do. He gave the star the benefit of the doubt, since it must be a lot different to experience the cosmos in person compared to a laggy computer screen propped up on Scar’s dining table.

After what felt like hours of trying to navigate through the poorly rendered versions of the cosmos that were available on Google, they finally got somewhere. While looking through pictures of the very outermost parts of the Milky Way, the star got very excited and kept pointing at the screen—the star really liked pointing, Scar had discovered. When he zoomed up on one bright ball of light in the picture, the star seemed to approve that it was indeed a representation of the very same one that was currently sitting in Scar’s kitchen. He couldn’t blame the star for getting excited at seeing a picture of itself; if one of Scar’s pictures went viral on the internet, he’d be ecstatic, too.

It was easy to find the name after locating the star. It must have been Greek or Latin or something, because Scar had never heard of the name Grian before.

Because they hadn’t tackled reading, yet—Scar didn’t even know how to begin explaining nor teaching the star how to read—Scar had to do the honors of ensuring that that was indeed the star’s name.

Imitating how he’d introduced himself the other day, Scar slowly put his hand on the star’s chest, palm flat. His hand was met with a warmth, but not an uncomfortable one, this time.

“Grian?” he asked, looking up to meet the star’s dark eyes.

The star’s lips curled up into a smile as it gently placed its fingers on Scar’s wrist. It may have just been the fact that the star was from the vast expanse of space, but its smile was spectacular.

“Grian,” the star confirmed. There was a kind of uncanny beauty about the star—the faint glow, the golden aura that outlined it if Scar unfocused his eyes, the way its smile formed inhumanly but kindly all the same. It was only then that Scar realized that he didn’t have to go outside at night and look up at the stars if he wanted to see a picture of beauty, he already had one right in front of him.

- ✰ -

Grian was a very fast learner, and soon enough, Scar was letting him come along with him to run errands—oh, and he’d decided that since Grian was presenting as masculine most days that he would use he/him pronouns for him, until Grian could properly grasp the concept of pronouns and decide if he wanted to go by something else. Going to the grocery store was great to introduce Grian to lots of different things, but the stuff Grian seemed most captivated by was the architecture of the city.

Scar assumed it was because there weren’t really buildings in space—or at least, not that he knew of. So he was more than happy to take walks with Grian along the strips of buildings and houses and just let the star look. Seeing Grian’s face light up everytime they passed by a new, intricately-designed building was like watching galaxies form in front of his own eyes. Scar didn’t think he’d ever get sick of looking at Grian.

“Very nice,” Grian would say with a sage nod. He had his hands folded behind his back, which Scar found kind of odd. Where had he picked that mannerism up from? “Very nice, indeed.”

“What do you like about this one?” They were standing in front of the city library, and if Scar’s memory served him right, it was at least a century old. It was a very pretty building, even if it didn’t get much business nowadays due to the changes in technology—it was snow capped thanks to the late December weather, with icicles hanging from the carefully sculpted eaves and frost dusted across the surface of the glossy windows.

Grian had to take a moment to consider Scar’s question. “The colors. And shape.” Scar supposed that was a good enough explanation from someone who was still learning the English vocabulary. He was going to leave that as that, until Grian confidently declared, “It’s very chobblesome.”

Scar very nearly choked on his own breath. “Excuse me?” Grian turned to him and blinked idly at him—his blinking was slow and often happened only every five minutes, but at least he understood now that humans were expected to blink. “What was that word you just said?”

“Chobblesome,” Grian repeated in the same exact tone of voice.

“And where did you hear it?” Scar snickered.

The star shrugged. Scar thought that must have been the first time he’d seen Grian shrug. “On your internet.”

Well, it didn’t explain everything, but Scar would take that as an explanation. Maybe he was going to have to curate Grian’s exposure to the internet a little more strictly from now on.

“Sure, sure. It’s chobblesome,” Scar agreed.

Grian’s smile widened, and he returned his attention to the library in front of them. “Told you. Chobblesome.”

There they stood, in line with one another as they admired a century old building. A strange pair, for certain—an extraterrestrial being hailing from the outer edges of the galaxy, and the man whose backyard he had crash-landed into by some cosmic accident. It was altogether very odd, but as Scar stood beside Grian, his hand at his side and itching to be held in Grian’s own, he felt pretty comfortingly ordinary; as if he was any other man in the world yearning for some company.

- ✰ -

“You sleep too much,” Grian greeted one morning as Scar walked into the kitchen. His eyelids were heavy with sleep and there was a yawn caught in his throat, but seeing the glorious sight that was Grian always seemed to have a way of waking him up.

Scar hummed as he began making himself a cup of coffee. “Humans need to sleep! We can’t function if we don’t!”

Grian’s expression was set as he pointed at the screen of Scar’s laptop. “Humans sleep one three out of existence. That is too much.”

With a simple smile, Scar corrected, “One-third.”

The star at his kitchen table nodded. “One-third,” he repeated back to Scar.

Scar shrugged as he finished filling the kettle and began to heat it up. “Like I said, we humans have so much to do, we need time to rest and build up more energy.”

“Stars do not sleep,” Grian said, an edge of snark in his voice. “Stars do not have time for sleep. We spend all our time shining.”

That brought a frown to Scar’s face and he was glad he was currently facing away from his new friend, because after Scar had explained emotions to Grian, he now questioned every time Scar frowned.

Why are you here, then? Scar wanted to ask, but kept his mouth shut. He was a little afraid to hear the answer, because he didn’t want to make Grian think he wanted him to go home. He wanted the exact opposite, in fact. They’d spent just over two months together, but Scar couldn’t even fathom what life would be like without him there. It was selfish, but Scar didn’t want Grian to leave, not now or any time in the near future.

“Stars are not humans.” Scar decided it was a good enough end to the argument. He watched the coffee pot’s timer tick down until it was ready to drink. He could hear the slow, rhythmic tapping of his laptop keyboard as Grian typed something.

“Humans are not stars,” Grian agreed. There was a strange new cadence in his voice, one Scar hadn’t heard before. When he looked over his shoulder Grian had closed the laptop and was staring at him, offering no explanation as to why he sounded sad just a moment ago. “I can have coffee?”

Scar shook his head. “Nope.” When Grian frowned—something over-dramatic and almost uncanny—Scar couldn’t help but smile a little bit at his antics. “You can’t even taste it! Plus it just burns up and makes a mess.”

Grian stared at him with an intensity behind his black-hole eyes. “Humans need to drink. I can have coffee.”

“You’re not human, though,” Scar reasoned. He poured himself a cup of coffee and noticed that Grian was now staring at the mug.

He waited for Grian’s rebuttal, which was inevitable, as ever since the star had been able to create his own voice and craft his own personality, he had begun to develop a habit of talking back to Scar.

“You like coffee, so I will like coffee,” said Grian slowly, like he was almost shocked that he himself was saying it.

Scar gave a hefty sigh and turned away, hoping to obscure the flush that was rising in his cheeks. “Fine, but like I said, you can’t even taste it!”

He poured a second mug of coffee and when he asked Grian how it tasted, the star did not know how to describe such a sensation he could not experience. He expressed that being a human must be hard and Scar laughed, but Grian was right, of course. Being a human was hard, especially when you were beginning to fall for someone you know you shouldn’t be falling for.

- ✰ -

Almost every night had become movie night, and after they’d burned through Scar’s entire collection of DVD movies, they turned to streaming services and cable to get their fix. Scar had since learned that since Grian was having to regulate his temperature while being on Earth, he couldn’t function very well due to not being used to existing at such a low temperature constantly. Scar’s solution was, of course, to bundle Grian up like his life depended on it. Which, it very well may have, considering what Scar knew about the life cycles of stars.

Scar’s clothes were big on Grian, but he didn’t seem to mind much. This particular night he was wearing one of Scar’s bulky sweaters he got from a Disneyland trip, complete with a thick blanket shared between the both of them as they sat on the couch, watching The Breakfast Club. Scar considered it a classic, so it only made sense that he’d make Grian watch it, too.

The movie was coming to a close, and just as Molly Ringwald and Judd Nelson’s characters leaned in to kiss, Grian made a noise of confusion from beside Scar.

“Why do they do that?” asked Grian.

Scar fished for the remote and hit pause, not wanting their conversation to overshadow the ending of the movie. “Do what? Kiss?”

“Yes,” Grian said plainly.

Scar shifted in his seat, not quite sure how to approach this topic. It certainly wasn’t the first time that Grian had watched a kiss scene in a movie, so why ask about it now? And more importantly, how was Scar supposed to explain the concept of love to a non-human being?

“Well,” he started off with, cringing at himself already. “It’s what you do with someone who is special to you!”

“Special?” Grian asked, looking up at Scar curiously. His fringe was messy and long, but his mesmerizing eyes peeked through his hair all the same, captivating Scar just like they did on that very first day.

Scar nodded slowly, licking his lips and exhaling shakily. “Yeah! Someone who— who means a lot to you.”

Grian turned back to the TV, and just like that, the moment was over. “Okay. That makes sense.” He gently put the remote back into Scar’s hand. “We can continue.”

Scar’s hand trembled slightly as he pressed the un-pause button, and when Grian rested his head against Scar’s shoulder, he just about felt like he might be the one who would be imploding in on himself.

- ✰ -

“Do you miss the stars?”

It had become a habit of theirs to have late-night conversations when Scar couldn’t sleep. This was on account of the fact that Grian had decided to start sitting in the rocking chair in Scar’s bedroom and waiting for him to fall asleep. Even though it was a bit creepy at first, it seemed to make Grian happy to keep him company during the nights, especially since he himself couldn’t sleep, so Scar allowed it.

The rocking chair creaked rhythmically in the darkness of the room. Scar stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, and although Grian’s light had dulled almost entirely during their time together, in the pitch black of his room, Scar could make out the faint glow emanating from the rocking chair corner. “Sometimes. Not a lot,” came Grian’s reply after a moment of contemplating the question. “It is lonely. Your planet is more exciting.”

That elicited a small, sleepy chuckle from Scar. “I don’t blame you.”

This was all to say that Scar didn’t want Grian to leave. He knew how these stories ended, with the extraterrestrial being returning to their home in the stars and leaving behind the human who sheltered and became attached to them. Scar had other friends, yes, but it was different with Grian.

“Why do you watch me sleep?” Scar eventually asked, trying to distract himself from the sad contemplations.

“You are vulnerable when you sleep,” Grian swiftly explained. “I can protect you.”

“Do you think a burglar is going to break in or something?”

“It is just in case. I will protect you.”

Scar let out a yawn as sleep finally began to come for him. “Whatever you say!”

“I do say.”

Scar giggled as his eyelids began to droop with fatigue, allowing himself to be carried off to the land of blissful dreams wherein his star-friend swore allegiance to him and only him, with his nonexistent heart laid out before him, prime for Scar’s taking.

- ✰ -

It wasn’t until they got to the planetarium that Scar realized what day it was.

He’d decided that it might be nice for Grian to experience space the same way that humans could: through simulations and projections. Maybe it was a tactic to try and give Grian a taste of home so that he’d stay behind on earth a little longer, but Grian didn’t have to know that!

It was a 45 minute drive, but Scar didn’t really mind all that much. Plus, it gave him an opportunity to expose Grian to some of his favorite music albums, which helped to calm him since he didn’t particularly like being in the car very much.

But it hadn’t dawned on Scar that it was Valentines’ Day until they were inside the busy planetarium and saw all the couples walking around, holding hands and being all lovey with one another. He cursed himself for picking possibly the worst date for them to go to an attraction such as this, but they'd already paid for their tickets, so Scar was going to have to make due with what he had.

“They’re too small,” Grian said as they looked up at the diorama of all the planets that hung from the domed ceiling. They slowly rotated along on a track around the largest of the figures, that being the sun. The domed ceiling in this room was painted black with projected white specks of stars, and Scar absentmindedly wondered if one of them represented Grian.

“Well they had to fit them into the room!” Scar said, holding back a snicker. His words did little to assuage Grian, who was frowning up at the diorama, still.

Eventually after a moment or two of Grian continuing to stare while teenage couples milled about the room, he eventually pointed up at the little blue and green orb that was third from the sun. “That is us? Earth?”

“Indeed it is!” Scar said, shuffling a little closer to Grian as a group of middle schoolers dashed through the room, all clutching scavenger hunt assignments and brightly colored pencils. Scar looked back up at the diorama when he was certain he wasn’t going to be run over, and barely registered a hand brushing against his own as a troublesome thought came to his mind. There were eight planets in their solar system, as well as countless other interstellar planes of existence like moons and asteroid belts—what were the chances that out of all of the places Grian could have crash-landed, it just so happened to be on one of the only planets to have known traces of intelligent life? And why Scar, of all people? How insanely lucky was it that out of all the cosmic accidents that could have occurred, Grian just so happened to crash-land into Scar’s life?

Grian pressed his shoulder against Scar’s, breaking the man out of his trance. “Tell me,” he said, looking up at Scar with excited eyes and a sneaky grin. “The earth revolves around the sun, correct?”

“Yeah, it does!” Scar only now registered the feeling of Grian’s hand brushing against his. He tried not to get his hopes up as he pressed his palm against Grian’s, holding the star’s hand gently in his own. Maybe Grian just didn’t want to get separated from Scar in the busy planetarium!

Right?

Grian’s smile mellowed out, losing its edge of shiftiness. “So it is special to the sun?”

Scar considered the question, chewing on his cheek. “Well, I mean it’s not the only planet that revolves around the sun, and it’s by no means the closest, but—” He cut himself off when he looked at Grian again and caught the glimmer in his eyes as he looked up at Scar. For a second, Scar forgot how to breathe. He wasn’t imagining this, he couldn’t be imagining the way that Grian was looking at him right then—like Scar was some grand, regal feat of architecture that Grian had stopped to stare at on the street.

Suddenly, Scar began to understand.

Swallowing his previous words, Scar said instead, “Sure, sure, the earth is special to the sun!” Then, squeezing Grian’s hand in his, “And the sun is very special to the earth, as well.”

Grian smiled at Scar and it felt like a warm embrace, like the sun on his face after a particularly harsh winter. And for a moment—one self-indulgent, wistful moment—Scar expected something to happen.

But then Grian was pulling him along to the next exhibit, using their interlocked hands as a sort of tether by which to string Scar along through the planetarium. Scar felt floaty for the rest of the day, and Grian’s hand in his began to feel right. It began to feel like it belonged there.

Scar didn’t want to get his hopes up, and yet…

And yet.

- ✰ -

It happened on an unsuspecting day; Scar had a feeling it would.

The chill in the air had finally given way to the first throes of spring and Scar was delighted to not have to be bundled up everytime he left the house. He was working on dinner while Grian watched him, seated from his usual spot at the table, the spot that had become his own during their time spent together. They were discussing the most recent movie they’d watched and Scar was already brainstorming what they could watch next, when it happened.

“Scar,” Grian said, as casual as ever, said in the same way that Scar could feel himself getting used to, “I have to go back to the stars.”

Scar exhaled shakily, letting his shoulders droop. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest, he’d been expecting to have this conversation eventually. But it didn’t stop him from being overwhelmed by the waves of anticipatory grief, the currents tugging at his ankles and threatening to pull him under.

“When?” Scar asked, doing his best to remain strong and cavalier. He didn’t turn to look at Grian, fearing for his own dignity if he met the star’s gaze during such a vulnerable moment.

The chair squeaked against the floor behind him as Scar prodded at his food in the pan, having already lost his appetite. “In the morning.”

A humorless chuckle fell off of Scar's lips. “So soon? I thought we had more time.” His voice wavered before he could get it under control, but with a sniffle and a clear of his throat he was himself again.

“I have been away for too long,” was Grian’s response, and it was much closer, now. He must have been standing just a few feet away from Scar, but he refused to turn around and look at him. “But I will come and visit!” Grian amended, and though there was a clear promise in his words, Scar could only take them at face value.

The thing was that once Grian left and was out amongst the stars again, he was going to experience time much differently than Scar would. What may only be a few months for Grian would be years back on earth, meaning that the next time Scar would see Grian probably wouldn’t be for a few decades or so.

Grian was a star. Grian would live forever, but Scar’s human life would only last so long. Grian was probably already thousands of years old, and still had infinity to go. Never before had Scar ever felt so infinitesimally small.

Scar shook his head. His throat felt like it was closing up. He could feel Grian’s presence behind him like a specter. “It’s not going to be the same. You can leave, but it won’t be the same.”

“Scar.” A hand on his arm. Scar froze. “I do not want to leave, either.”

When Scar rounded on Grian, there were tears already streaking down his face. There was no point in hiding them any longer, so he gave himself into the emotions.

“You don’t have to. You could stay.”

Grian frowned, shaking his head. His hand was still ghosting over Scar’s bicep. “I cannot. The stars need me.”

It was selfish, very incredibly selfish, but it was Scar's last ditch effort at convincing Grian. “And what if I need you?”

Grian’s eyes misted over, his long lashes fluttering delicately against the warm tones of his skin. Scar couldn’t imagine what his world would look like without Grian in it; he wouldn’t imagine it. Grian reached upwards and began thumbing away his tears, and Scar melted into his embrace, wondering distantly where he’d learned to do that. But when Grian leaned upwards and brushed his lips against Scar’s, he did not have to think about where Grian had seen that before.

In fact, Scar didn’t think at all. He simply let his eyes flick shut and drew Grian closer to him, never wanting to let go. Grian was clearly inexperienced from only ever seeing the act of kissing being performed on TV, but it didn’t deter Scar. Even if it was simple contact, the mere brushing of lips against one another’s, Scar let himself be overwhelmed by the euphoria of it all. Grian’s hands framing his face was a feeling he never wanted to forget, and the inherent warmth that came from holding him so close was a sensation he just might miss for the rest of his life.

Grian pulled away first, as he was condemned to. There was a strange, unfamiliar intensity to his words as he spoke to Scar, “I will come back. This is a promise.”

Scar knew deep down that all this time their meeting had been a product of a cosmic accident—a right time, right place kind of thing. But what had transpired afterwards had been of their own volition. Scar could have cast Grian out, he could have called the cops, he could have tried to get Grian back home on that very first day.

But he chose Grian, and he liked to think that Grian chose him, too.

So, against all odds, Scar cracked a smile, because he knew Grian wouldn’t lie to him. “I’ll be here when you come back.” The unspoken words hung heavy in the air around them—But I’ll be different, a little older, maybe a little wiser. But they weren’t important right now, Scar decided. He needed to cherish what little time he had left with Grian before he went back home to the stars.

Seeing that Scar had been able to muster up a smile, Grian’s expression softened. Scar wondered how many more times he was going to be able to get lost in Grian’s eyes before he left.

“You are my earth, Scar.”

In that little kitchen, Grian shone just like the sun, and he was shining just for Scar.

- ✰ -

They had agreed the most painless way was for Grian to leave during the night, while Scar was sleeping. That way they didn’t have to go through the painful motions of having to say goodbye—instead, Scar could tuck himself into bed and convince himself Grian was still perched in his rocking chair, watching over him.

Grian would watch over him, just from much farther away, now.

He watched out his window just long enough to see the shooting star arc through the sky. It would be out of sight within minutes, but simply seeing the light shoot across the sky filled Scar with a wistful hope.

Grian would return to him one day, Scar had no doubt about it.

#mcyt-valentines #trafficshipping #scarian #valentine's day #fanfic #fic #my writing #mine

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toast-tales · 8 months

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I Lava You, Chapter 6: Stuck Like Glue

Read Chapter 1 here!

Cover art by @luckyshotwrites!

This short story takes place after P39 of ITWOM and as such, contains minor, minor spoilers for ITWOM - read at your own risk! You do NOT need to have read WIDFALI to enjoy this story!

This story is cowritten with the amazing, fantastic @luckyshotwrites and uses the minor character June from their ongoing vore story What I'd Do For A Livable Income. It's chock full of monsters, magic, goofs, and absolutely fantastic worldbuilding and characters. Give it a shot if you haven't yet!

Contains: references to g/t soft, safe vore. ~1000 words.

Chapter 6: Stuck Like Glue

June specified that they were talking about themselves, not humans in general. That way I'm not lying. Still, June's shoulders slacked with the lies he carried.

“Nope. I don’t feel pain—” AH! Wait, normal humans feel pain. No—Tristan told me some humans don't. “I was born very different from humans…I don’t feel pain, so I won’t get hurt if you throw me.” June was blissfully unaware of his friend’s intentions.

He felt the extra squish from Sam’s anticipation.

These words from June were all it took to remove the inhibitors from Sam’s questionable urges. They stood up, June in hand, and looked around for a suitably clear path from them to the wall.

They looked down at the human in their hand, and a moment of hesitation hit them. Am I sure they’re not gonna get hurt?

Unfortunately, Sam’s excitement was beating out the shred of concern they had, aided by the fact that they trusted whatever came out of this human’s mouth. Probably more than they should. Hey, he said it was fine!

Sam eyed the blank spot on the wall ahead of them and gave June one last look, their nerves buzzing with excitement. A wide grin spread across their face. “Alright, little buddy, I gotta see this.”

That was all the warning the giant gave before winding their arm back and flinging the unsuspecting slime towards the wall as hard as they could.

June swung back with Sam's arm, then with the velocity of a thousand meteors, his body collided with the wall. June's body splatted against the wall and flattened upon impact.

He at least maintained the fleshy color of his "skin". As if a human could do this.

He went as flat as construction paper before popping back into his humanoid shape. His fell from the wall and bounced back onto the ground like a bouncy ball. He chortled softly, completely unharmed.

June laid with his back against the floor, looking at Sam upside-down because of his head’s angle.

“That was so much fun!” June had endured plenty of high falls on his old world too. “You throw really fast!”

Sam watched the scene unfold before them with amazement, their eyes sparkling with childish glee. This was helped by June’s enthusiasm, who was amazingly unharmed by this whole thing.

“That was SO FUCKING COOL!” they exclaimed, running over to June and picking them up in a fit of excitement. “I’ve never tried anything like that with a human before.”

Their mind buzzed with possibilities. The first thing that came to mind was kicking June around like a little human hackey-sack, but they put that thought aside. For now.

The second thought was, obviously, showing June off to Christopher and providing him with a demonstration. But…nah, they’d wait until tomorrow.

Sam casually tossed June up in the air like a wadded-up piece of paper before catching them again. “You are by far the coolest human I’ve ever found, little buddy.”

June liked the rush of air when being thrown up and then caught.

The slime’s body bubbled happily. Coolest? Me? He knew the human vernacular meant one of two things. It could mean that he was cool to the touch—but…June was fairly certain his body wasn’t cold. Which meant…

He clung to Sam’s hand, affectionately. “You mean it?!”

“Hell yeah!” Sam resisted the urge to toss June at the wall again, though their arm itched to do so. “You got any more cool tricks?” They took a seat back at their desk, still holding June securely (a relative term if there ever was one) in their hands, subconsciously squeezing parts of June between their fingers as they did so.

June had plenty of “cool tricks.” But I can’t show Sam any of them! He whined in his head as Sam squeezed again. He didn’t mind it—he let the gentle rolls of Sam’s clutch and release massage him.

“None that I can think of,” June replied. His big, round, curious eyes looked up at Sam. “What about you? Do you have any really cool tricks you can do?”

Sam thought about it for a while. They didn’t think June would be overly impressed by their amateur lockpicking skills. They turned back to their PC, remembering what they had been distracted from earlier. Suddenly, their eyes glanced over one of the icons on the desktop, and a wide smile broke on their face. They hadn’t had someone to show off to in a long time, and the excitement almost bubbled over in them.

“OH! I’ve been working at getting this sixth-level map and I think I’ve mastered it,” Sam enthused, getting swept away in their addiction to their favorite rhythm game. They were about to position their fingers over the keys as usual when they realized they’d have to let go of the squishy human to do so. They let go of June, though with the slightest hint of reluctance.

“Here, here, check this out.”

For the next hour, Sam gave June a front-row view of a very flashy, colorful display with both the game and RGB lighting of their keyboard, mouse, and PC lighting up and swapping colors as they played. It was clear Sam had some level of skill with the game. Sam gave June more information and fun facts about the game than the slime would ever want to know.

June, situated between Sam and their keyboard, watched the screen bustling with joy. He cheered Sam on when they did well, and served their famous special encouragement platter when they messed up, which they freely served to friends 7 days a week.

June himself wasn’t skilled with games—many times, he would end up staring into space when he played, admiring the beautiful scenes instead.

In this case, the lights of the keyboard pulled him away. He wasn’t bored by any means—he simply felt happy to be there and to observe his new friend succeed.

This opportunity was granted by his glasses—before, the world was pretty dark, nearly black with sprinkles of energy-filled light from individuals. And now, he could see everything in awe-inspiring detail.

The game would be entertaining enough that Sam would almost forget about the fact that they had a human to eat with them—at least, until their stomach started growling again.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

<- Chapter 5

Hey, this IS a vore story...right? Remember?

Thanks for your patience on this update - and we might need to ask for that patience again, but thank you for reading!

#i lava you #widfali #itwom #widfalitwom #oc sam #widfali june #vore writing #vore stories #gt vore #g/t vore #g/t vore story #gt vore story #safe vore #soft vore #sfw vore #nonsexual vore

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floralcyanide · 2 years

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Kinktober Day Six

Degradation - Elvis/ Austin!Elvis

I love degradation ngl so I got projected a little in this,,, oop. anyway, welcome to day 6! I hope everyone is enjoying october and kinktober so far. if you like this part, please reblog and like! it's very much appreciated! <3 (please pay attention to the warnings in this part, some of it is understandably not for everyone or could be triggering.)

pairing: Elvis/ Austin!Elvis x Reader

warnings: smut, spanking, nipple play, choking, degradation, dirty talk, use of derogatory names, hair pulling, unprotected sex, slapping, pussy slapping, uhhh I think that's it lol

word count: 1318

masterlist || add yourself to the taglist HERE! || kinktober prompt list HERE!

You hate to disappoint people, and you make it a point to fix any wrongs you may have committed. The feeling of rejection or disappointment always bothers you a lot in everyday life. So when Elvis asks if you enjoy being degraded in bed one day, you aren’t sure how to answer. Being belittled isn't fun for you, especially if you mess up. You also aren’t sure if you’re a fan of physical assault, even if it’s consensual. So you say no, for now, anyway. You have to go exploring a little before making a decision. You read up about it and even watch some videos that show degradation, but you still aren't sure how to feel about it. You guess you’ll have to be in the moment to know whether you want it.

You and Elvis have been staying in Vegas for a while due to his career flourishing there. On a particular night, he isn't doing so well mentally and pops off on the Colonel. Elvis finds out he has been scheming and lying to him for a long time. He angrily fires him in front of everyone before storming off upstairs. You’re in the hotel room watching television when Elvis bursts through the door.

“That lying, no good piece of shit,” he fumes, clawing at his jumpsuit to try and remove it.

You get up from the couch quickly, running over to Elvis. Jerry had called a few moments ago from downstairs, giving you the rundown of the situation. He warned you that Elvis would be up any minute and that he was stark mad. You help him shrug off his jumpsuit, and once it’s off, he grabs you by the hair harshly.

“You’re gonna listen to me and do as I say, alright, sweetheart?” Elvis growls, his breath hitting your face.

You nod wordlessly the best you can with Elvis’ fingers gripping your hair. He starts attacking your neck with bites and open-mouthed kisses, all but ripping your shirt off in the process. Elvis guides you to the bed, where he sits on the edge and throws you over his lap.

“You gonna be a good girl and let me take my frustration out on you? I’ll make you feel good, baby,” he says, asking permission to be rough with you. His palm moves down your spine and over the curve of your ass as he awaits your response.

“Whatever you need, babe,” you gulp, a little hesitant but also turned on.

Elvis pulls your pants and underwear down, letting them slide down your legs and onto the floor. He lands a light smack on your right ass cheek, then squeezes it and smoothes out the reddening skin. You lurch forward a bit, and you’re a little shocked at the velocity of the smack, even if it was light. But oddly enough, it feels good. He lands four more slaps to your ass, getting more rough every time. You can feel Elvis hardening against your hip, and your own arousal begins to pool between your thighs.

“You’re such a dirty slut, letting your ass be slapped. I bet you love it, don’t you?” Elvis snarls, slapping your ass as hard as he can without hurting you too badly.

You let out a high-pitched moan, the pain shooting electricity straight to your core. You wiggle in Elvis’ lap, desperate for friction.

“Such a bad kitten. You can’t wait for me to touch you? Get up and get on the bed. Now,” Elvis commands, and you do as he asks.

You lay on the bed, both of you now completely naked once Elvis removes his underwear. He climbs on top of you, pinning your wrists over your head. He leans in close to your face, his lips by your ear.

“I’m gonna fuck you like the little slut you are, you hear me?” Elvis whispers, hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. And a part of you hopes he does.

“Yes sir,” you say meekly, your eyes innocently gazing into his.

Elvis gently coaxes two fingers inside your already wet pussy, stretching you out at every angle so you can conform to his length easily. His other hand rubs your clit roughly, eliciting a cry from you at the sudden harsh stimulation. It feels so good, even if it’s hard and fast. Judging that you’re stretched out enough for him, Elvis rubs his tip along your folds, gathering the slick and sliding it around your clit before slamming into you. Your body jerks upward at the velocity of him entering you, your back arching when he’s fully sheathed inside you. Elvis starts pounding into you without mercy, his anger bleeding through his movements. He grips your throat with his left hand and keeps your wrists pinned with the other, his body weight pressing into your neck. You feel dizzy, but in a good way.

“Fucking you so good, huh? Taking it like a good little whore, hmm?” Elvis grunts, and your face burns at the derogatory names he’s been calling you tonight. You didn’t think they’d turn you on, but they do.

“Who’s fucked out pussy is this?” he raises his voice at you, slapping your clit hard.

You moan pitifully at the feeling, “Yours.”

Elvis gains speed, his tip barely hitting your cervix as the bed shakes from the rough fucking it’s enduring. Your breasts are bouncing, and he lets go of your throat to pinch at your nipples roughly. He leans down to capture one in his mouth, tugging at the bud with his teeth before letting it go. Tears are streaming down your face from the pain, but it feels so good, and you can’t help but crave more.

“Slap me,” you mutter, almost inaudible from the sound of Elvis’ moans and skin slapping together.

But he hears you, and his eyes soften only a little, “Are you sure, babydoll?”

“I’m sure,” you moan when Elvis hits a specific spot inside you.

He grips your hips, fingers digging hard into your muscle there as he continues to fuck you without slowing down. He rubs your clit for a moment before slapping it again, causing your hips to buck under his grip. Elvis moves his hand up your stomach and past your breasts and neck until he reaches your jaw. He squeezes your cheeks, puckering your lips, where he leans down to kiss you hungrily. He then pulls back and takes a deep breath before slapping you across the face without hesitation. It isn’t too hard, but hard enough to cause a sting and the skin to redden.

You gasp, “Do it again.”

Elvis slaps you again as he hits your g spot, causing you to cry out.

“Fuck, Elvis,” your hands struggle under Elvis’ grip.

He frees your hands, and you scratch down his back as he takes hold of your hair.

“I’m getting close,” he warns, and you can also feel yourself drawing nearer to orgasm.

“Cum in me,” you growl, meeting your hips to Elvis’ thrusts, sending him deeper inside you.

Elvis doesn’t hesitate before letting himself cum, hot spurts shooting into you as your stomach twists in pleasure. He chokes you again, squeezing the sides of your throat, sending your body into convulsions as your orgasm takes over.

“What a dirty slut cumming around my cock,” Elvis lets you ride out your high on him as he softens.

You relax into the bed, and he pulls out of you. Your hand absentmindedly reaches up to your face, feeling the heat from the slap still there.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Elvis asks, lying beside you with a concerned look.

“No, baby,” you shake your head, “I liked it, actually.”

“Good. Cause I’m gonna be angry at the Colonel for a while,” Elvis rolls his eyes, and you chuckle at him as he wraps his arms around you.

taglist:

@onxlymnsn @anangelwhodidntfall @butlersluvbot @austinbutler17 @mamaspresley @mirandastuckinthe80s @bobbykennedyfan @sodonebruh @lizzymizzy-blogg @defnotreadingfanfics12 @izzvoid @homebodybirkin2003 @thatonemoviefan @kittenlittle24 @tubble-wubble @kaycinema @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @amiets2 @mrs-butler @mesbouquins @ari-nicole @austin-butlers-gf @feral4austinbutler @inlovewithchrisevans @shynovelist @mommy-maia @karamelcoveredolicity @thtguyovrthere @starry-night-20 @coldonexx @hangmanswhorey @beautyofelvis @mavericksicybabe @coco-bitch @bobthefishiesworld @emmymaehereeeeee @myguiltypleasures21 @rainydayz101 @finelineskies @cryingabtab @kaitaesupremacy @ash-omalley @latenighttalking13 @tom-whore-dleston @presleylust @oh-kurva @cece05 @poppet05

@scarlettlight06 @bisexualwvtson

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sortyourlifeoutmate · 3 months

Text

I’m a huge nerd with an odd fascination for both firearms and made-up firearms, and so the way guns work in Mass Effect has always confused and irritated me, doubly so whenever I see anyone else online talk about it as they are all almost always wrong in frustrating ways.

Not like me, I’m never like that.

The core conceit for guns in Mass Effect goes something like this:

Electromagnetic acceleration. That’s all you get told, but looking at just about every gun in the game you can assume they’re probably coilguns, but I doubt you’re meant to think about it too hard.

A mass effect field is used to lower the mass of the projectile, allowing it to be accelerated even faster than usual (personally I’d have said it allowed acceleration at lower energy levels, as coilguns and railguns and the like are notoriously thirsty systems, power-wise, but whatever).

Ammunition for the weapons comes in the form of an internal block of metal that, when the trigger is pulled, has a bit shaved off it and fired. These blocks can provide, it is said, thousands of rounds.

An internal computer is what decides how best to shave the block, apparently, and compensates for environmental conditions, it is said.

Now, that’s not awful on the face of it, I guess, but there are issues that rapidly pile up.

While it is never stated explicitly how big rounds are for any gun, it is mentioned in the codex entry that with sufficient kinetic energy even a sandgrain sized object would have devastating power. This is true. But that doesn’t say that what you’re firing is the size of a grain of sand, though it is often assumed that it is. The most it says is that the slugs are ‘tiny’.

What’s doing the heavy lifting in this mental picture here is the rationale that if you get something fast enough, it can do a lot of damage. This is true. But I feel in the rush to get to this certain important considerations might have been overlooked.

For one, I’m never clear on when the mass-reducing field stops being active on the projectile. Does it carry the whole way until it hits the target? What keeps the field active, is that how they work? I was never sure. More’s the point if it stays on all the way, what is keeping a massless grain of sand moving in anything close to a straight line? In space that might work but in atmosphere?

You ever heard of projectile salvo? Where the salient point here is that very light, very high velocity projectiles sometimes got deflected by rain?

And if the mass effect field doesn’t carry all the way to the target – which seems more likely to me – then you’re not getting the speeds some people are claiming you get, which makes firing a grain of sand at someone (or a ‘tiny slug’, whatever that is) kind of dumb, which makes the this whole ‘block of metal’ thing also kind of dumb. Some people are really, really insistent on the speed though.

I have seen at least one person claim that the weapons act as ‘miniature mass relays’ and fire their projectiles ‘close to the speed of light’ which is…wrong…on so many levels. For one thing the guns are not miniature mass relays because that would be ludicrous. I could get into why it’s ludicrous but suffice to say mass relays big, guns small. On the other side if you are standing there, a person, firing your rifle and what is coming out of that rifle is going anywhere near any fucking percentage of C, you are probably dead.

I’m not a fucking physicist or anything, I’m just – that’s common-sense, surely?

So no, not lightspeed, no, not anywhere near lightspeed, no. Extremely high velocity? Sure, totally. But not that high velocity. No-one’s talking cover behind a fucking crate if you’re shooting at them with something like that, yeah?

It’s also made pretty clear in the codex that recoil is a limiting factor for ultimate force put onto a target, albeit mitigated by the mass effect fields. Which tracks, as it explains why things like the Widow even exist in the first place, and are apparently so nasty to fire. If a basic Avenger is kicking out rounds at something of a few percent of C, then I’m not sure why you’d need a specific anti-Krogan rifle. The Krogan would be soup. So would anything behind them. And beneath and above them.

And you.

And what would be the point of a dedicated shotgun anyway? Couldn’t you tell your little gun computer in your Avenger to switch to shotgun mode and it’d shaved of a little handful of tiny grains and fire those? Why couldn’t it? Mean, wouldn’t be as good as a dedicated platform, I guess (none of which have stocks, as is noted – and why does everyone hold their submachineguns janky? And why do SMG’s even still exist? Gah!).

None of this matters, obviously. It’s all very video-gamey. Doubly so from the second game onwards where guns got more differentiated because that’s more fun and also reloading came back (heatsinks, ahem). It’s all basically a sci-fi-y excuse for why your guns aren’t lasers (sidebar: why aren’t there man-portable lasers?) and, along with many things in Mass Effect, the questionable scientific veracity of it all goes right out the window when an opportunity to be space opera presents itself.

And rightly so.

I suppose what annoys me is the people getting it wrong. Like, I’m not an expert, I’m an idiot. But people saying things like the above “They’re basically miniature mass relays”, a statement supported by exactly nothing and madness in the context of the game itself and physics in general, is grating. It’s like all those people who seem to assume that every space-based gun in the whole series starts at a base level of power as the main gun on a dreadnought.

No! They don’t! That’s why those ships are so powerful!

Fuckin’ Shepard is standing inside handshake distance of the Reaper on Rannoch when the fleet unloads and they aren’t burnt to a crisp – the guns aren’t that powerful!

Though I guess the Quarians might have been dialling it back on that one…

Point is! I’m right! And everyone else is wrong! And also annoying!

Fucking firing at nearly the speed of light, for fucks sake…

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