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cuprohastes · 1 year

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Visit strange new worlds... And ask, "What would a human do?"

Really, it was hard not to wail like a child who'd lost his tnkpt, thought Viska. It was how he felt right now and he suspected the big toothy thing outside wouldn't care much.

The only thing that was stopping him was that he was fairly sure it didn't know exactly where he was, and he didn't want to help out.

It'd been all fun at the start. He, Dr. Kraant, Ipsnig and the Human assigned to the survey to lift stuff and do Human things had gone out. The Human had helped him paint his scales a few days before and he was feeling very pretty and competent, and the Human had brought some of their human music that secretly Viska thought was pretty good, even if it needed to be a little higher pitched.

But then the big thing had attacked. Viska mentally named it Ergrig. It looked like an Ergrig. Something about the way it was drooling.

The human had grabbed Dr. Kraant, who had this theory that all predators had motion based vision, and flung him into the Sintral expedition car. Ipsnig had just leapt out the way and then there was dust and rocks spraying everywhere and the Ergrig was between him and the Sintral.

He'd dropped on all fours, and run, skidding around the vegetation, mud and rocks and finally he'd wedged himself in a small muddy gap, his gorgeous scale paints splattered and scratched, and of course the snazzing gwapruff thing had followed him.

And now he was stuck, and probably going to be eaten, and die. In that order.

He wished he was a Human. They always seemed to know how to deal with things.

He's asked their Human how they dealt with all the horrible creatures which all seemed to somehow have classified the human as not-food.

"I ask myself: What Saint Irwin would do?" They'd said, like it was funny.

Viska wondered if this Saint Irwin would help out a poor muddy Tsin, or if you had to be Human to ask.

What he needed was a Saint Human to help Tsin out.

Or... maybe he should just ask: What would Human

And so, a few minutes later, the Ergrig, who'd been sure there was some little scaled food thing around here was very startled when a small male Tsin leapt up in front of it, scales on end like an angry pine cone, four arms splayed out, and gibbering in a manner that the Ergrig had never heard before.

It backed up, scrabbling, and the spiny thing lurched forward.

Like many predators, the Ergrig couldn't chance an injury. One of the big herbivores might have just kicked or gored Viska, but the Ergrig bolted.

"I can't believe that worked!" Said Viska.

"Neither can I." Said the human stepping out of liminal space between two boulders with a whump-gun. "I was trying to find you - Good thinking with the mud by the way - and I was prepared to give that big fella an arse full, with Betty here, but looks like you had it in hand!"

Vriska couldn't figure out how to respond for a moment - a little starstruck at getting praise from a Human.

"Oh well. I just thought... what would a Human do." He said as they headed back to the Sintral expedition vehicle.

"Well it worked this time!" Said the Human, "But to be honest, I think most people - or animals - would back off if you leap out and screamed the lyrics to Phantom of the Opera at them..."

#Haso #humans are space orcs #And so can you!#Tsin

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flowerandblood · 1 year

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The White Flame (Part 1)

[modern! rockstar • Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader]

[warnings: sexual tension, drugs, angst, swearing, fluff]

[description: Aemond is the bassist of the band whose leader and vocalist is his brother. The whole band decides to use the marketing and design help of their guitarist's friend. The story is an interweaving of domination, desire and slowly burning feeling.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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"The White Flame" - the name of their band - was Aegon's idea. Ever since he started taking singing lessons he always knew he wanted to start a band. Although Aemond didn't believe in this venture, he gave in to him when he said one day that he had found a guitarist and a drummer. Their house was big, so the first rehearsals took place in their garage.

Aemond loved the bass guitar, its low sound, the way it was always in the back carrying the whole song on its weight, giving it that nice quivering feeling in your chest when it played on stage. Cregan as a drummer was very lively and energetic, he could improvise very well and bring a lot to the whole composition, adding to its expression.

Mathylda, whom they simply called "Momo", was a great guitarist and had a very interesting way of applying makeup. Often blue butterflies were pinned into her short black hair, her make-up was wide and bright, passing through all the colors of blue. She dressed all in black, and despite the glasses that made her look like a nerd, she had a rock star vibe about her.

They managed to get an agent who arranged their first concerts in small clubs. Slowly, they began to receive more and more offers, and after two years they played almost every weekend. Mathylda said that they needed someone to care for their marketing, someone who would run their social media, design logos and gadgets, and promote their style.

"My friend is great at these kind ot things, I can ask her if she would like to help us." She said one day, referring to the girl who would come to their concerts sometimes and then have drinks with Momo at the bar.

She didn't talk to them much, seeing that the boys often disappeared with the girls in some corners, snorted something or just drank. Sometimes, however, she and Mathylda would come over to exchange a few words. One day she was talking to Aegon while eating marshmallows shaped like litte rabbits heads.

"Actually, you yourself look like a bunny." He once said drunk. She laughed and asked if he thought she had rabbit teeth. He said he meant her bun.

Indeed, she often combed her long hair so that part of her front hair was wrapped at the back of her head in a small bun, fastened with a colored terry, which she could tie on demand without even thinking about it. Aemond wondered how she did it that she didn't even look at herself in the mirror, and that the bun always looked perfect.

From then on, Aegon always called her "Bunny", and it stayed that way. Sometimes they used an abbreviation and just called her "Bun." Compared to them, she was very colorful, joyful and, above all, sober.

She had had drinks with Mathylda of course, but Aemond had never seen her drunk enough to gibber or cajole. She talked a lot and was always discussing something with Cregan or Aegon.

She often wore sweatshirts or sweaters in bright, pastel colors, sometimes with a character from a fairy tale. For example, she had a "Adventures of the Gummi Bears" hoodie that Aegon loved. For some reason he called her "Gummi Bunny" back then, to the dismay of everyone, including her.

Although her choice of clothing might seem childish, she always paired it with high-waisted trousers or mid-thigh skirts with high wool socks, which emphasized her slim figure and nice proportions. Aemond found himself staring at her legs a lot when she was wearing a short skirt.

When Momo suggested that Bunny handle their marketing, everyone was comfortable with the idea. Sometimes she would show them her designs and illustrations, and they were all impressed.

Aemond never commented on what she was doing, but he thought she did have talent. Once everything was settled, Bunny came over to them after one of the rehearsals with her laptop and sketchbook. She wanted to show them some designs for their new logo.

“I decided that a classic typographic solution would be the best. Your music refers to classic rock, so I went the way of Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin or AC/DC.” She said calmly, unfolding the pages. Aemond was surprised that she had done her homework. Her designs referenced the typography of the 60's and 70's, making the inscription "The White Flame" look retro.

Everyone loved the direction she was going. After a lively discussion, they came to the conclusion that the most interesting design was the one in which the L was a flame, with the rest of the thick, serifed letters.

Bunny suggested that if she could, she would stay with them while they practiced and start making a logo on the laptop so she could consult with them on changes. Nobody had any objections to that.

After a few weeks, the logo was ready. Bunny one day brought everyone stickers with it on it, saying it was a cool and inexpensive gadget and that they could use some t-shirts and bags too. She also took care of their social media. One day she brought her little purple Instax and said she wanted to take some cool retro pictures of them.

She took one of the photos of Aemond from hiding, standing to the side. Aemond stood against a completely black background, his eyes narrowed in concentration, a cigarette in his mouth. His sleeve with a large tattoo peeked out from under his black T-shirt, his white hair, bright face and black&white guitar contrasted with the whole setting.

Bunny approached him with excitement, saying that it was one of the best pictures and that it turned out great. As she stood next to him, he smelled her scent, some pleasant floral perfume. He just grunted, exhaling smoke through his nose, tilting his head to the side so as not to blow on her.

After concerts, there were always at least a few girls waiting for autographs at their door. Usually half of them wanted to fuck. Aegon took advantage of this every time and went to the toilet with them. Cregan didn't, at least not right away, but sometimes he gave his phone number to girls he liked.

Aemond only fucked the most desperate ones. It excited him to think that he could give them everything they wanted, give them hope and leave them with nothing. He wondered, what they expected?

However, he felt uneasy when, after one such action, he left the men's room with one of the girls, who was quickly adjusting her skirt, and Bunny was waiting on the other side, apparently waiting for the women's room.

The look she gave him was not one of reproach or disgust. She looked like he was physically hurting her. She lowered her gaze as he turned and walked away, deciding that he didn't have to explain anything to her.

During one of the rehearsals, she sat on their couch. She'd been working on her laptop for a few hours now and took off her shoes, putting her hunched legs together.

Aemond involuntarily, sitting in the armchair next to her, tuning his guitar, looked at her legs dressed in high, cream socks to the middle of the thighs. She was wearing a big, long, light-colored, long-sleeved Gryffindor sweatshirt and shorts. That's why she looked like she was wearing nothing underneath.

Aemond felt a tightness in his pants at the thought of being between those thighs. He wondered if she would moan sweetly under him as he fucked her, if she would be wet and tight for him. He looked away, clenching his jaw, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth.

He looked up at her in surprise when he saw her put the laptop aside, walked over to him and leaned her hip against his armchair, showing him one of the sketches on a piece of paper she must have done earlier.

“Aegon once proposed to decorate your guitars. I already have a project for Momo, but I decided to do something different for you.” She said calmly, a note of satisfaction and pride in her voice. Aemond looked at her drawing. It accurately reproduced his bass guitar.

In her illustration, a black and white dragon with claws, drawn in a sharp, simplistic style, was eating its own tail as it curled around the shape of the instrument. Aemond took the cigarette from his mouth and flicked the smoke onto the ashtray, that was on the small table beside him.

"I like it." He spoke briefly and to the point.

A few days later, he, Momo and Bunny drove their guitars to the printing house. At first, Momo and Bunny were going to go there alone and get his guitar too, but he told them that if he saw even a scratch on it, he would kill them. Frightened that something might escape their attention, they simply told him to come with them.

They went in and explained that they had come to print the guitars with the designs Bunny had sent them earlier. Bunny frowned as they showed her the stickers that would then be welded into the fabric and secured.

"Why is the print resolution so poor?" She asked, looking at the man in surprise. The man shrugged.

"Perhaps you sent such a project." He said dismissively. Bunny frowned.

"I have sent you a high resolution file." She said coldly. The man sighed and checked everything on the computer again. He pursed his lips as he realized she was right. She raised her eyebrows, obviously expecting an apology.

"After all, since you play on stage, you won't be able to see pixels from a distance anyway." He said calmly. Bunny opened her mouth, nervous, but before she could say anything, Aemond walked over to her, took the sheet of paper with the sticker, and tore it up in front of them. He tossed it on his desk, staring at him with a stony face.

"Nobody's gonna put this pixelated shit on my guitar. Print it again because you're getting on my nerves already, mate." He said low, his voice making the man look at him with wide eyes. He clenched his jaw and wordlessly turned the machine back on. He must have changed something, because this time the printouts looked perfect.

Aemond watched carefully as he pasted the design onto his guitar. Bunny and Momo looked at them with amusement as they saw the man's hands shaking. When it was over, they left the printing house, quite satisfied with the end result.

"I'll drive you to your home." He said calmly, and the girls looked at each other, surprised, apparently not expecting such a kind heart from him. They both sat in the back, talking about nutrition, how frustrated the guy was and his nonsensical remarks.

First on the way was Momo's house. As she said goodbye and closed the door behind her, Aemond drove on. The silence fell between them. He looked in his mirror and saw in the reflection that their eyes met. They turned immediately.

Aemond considered stopping somewhere in some small, empty street for a while to just fuck her on his back seat. He thought after a moment that he would probably just scare her. Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"I have something for you." She said shyly, smiling warmly. He looked from the road to her face in the mirror, surprised. "Aegon told me you recently had a birthday. But I didn't have the courage to give it to you in front of everyone." She said, looking down at her lap.

Aemond swallowed softly, completely bewildered. He didn't like celebrating birthdays, and he didn't like missed gifts. He stared straight ahead, saying nothing.

He glanced in the mirror again, hearing her rummage through her white suede backpack. He parked in front of her house when he heard her lean over him, her elbows between the two front seats, her head close to his face.

She held an envelope in her hand, it was not sealed. Aemond reached inside, without even asking her if he could see what was inside, and pulled out a few sheets. After a while he realized they were tattoo designs.

“Aegon told me you want to make a new one, but you need a good design. That you wish it had a dagger on it that belonged to your great-great-grandfather. He took a picture of him for me and I came up with several versions. I tought you might like one of them." She said softly with a smile, her gaze warm and sincere.

He looked at her, their faces millimeters apart. He wanted to fuck her, kiss her long neck, listen to her soft moans. He wondered if he saw it in his gaze, because she shivered and swallowed softly, her lips parting slightly.

He looked at her lips, then back at her eyes. They leaned against each other's foreheads, and she sighed softly, as if in relief. She smiled at him. He thought she was going to kiss him, but she pulled away, zipped up her backpack, and left the car without a word, her legs trembling slightly.

He watched her as she walked into her house and didn't even look back at him. He felt his entire jaw clench with desire. He squeezed his eye shut, swallowed hard, and started the engine, driving out of her driveway with a squeal of tires.

_____

Let me know what do you think and if you want a series form that! If you want to be tagged, leave a comment below. ♥

@zenka69 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff

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gffa · 1 year

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This hit me like a ton of bricks. There’s another scene in this comic that really put it into perspective for me, it’s a Vader point of view scene, flashbacks of scenes from The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones where he was so afraid to lose his mother and then his wife that it was drawing a straight line to his fall to the dark side, which perfectly illustrated George Lucas’ commentary on Anakin’s story and why he fell. Then I get to this page. Another Vader point of view, the red boxes on black backgrounds that are inside his head. “My son. I sense your anguish. You still cannot bear the thought of losing your friends. Good. Now you’re ready... to learn what real fear is.” OHHHHHH THAT SHIT HIT LIKE A BRICK TO THE FACE. Anakin Skywalker, the core theme of his fall to the dark side, was his fear of losing his mother, losing his wife, losing his Master, losing his apprentice, losing his friends--he knows what that kind of gibbering fear is like and how deep it can cut. No one knows better than Darth Vader how powerful a weapon he’s just been handed. He knows it because it’s the weapon that was turned on him to draw him to the dark side. Luke’s fears for Han and Leia--and Vader will use this exact same trick again in Return of the Jedi and it will scrape away at Luke’s resolve, when Vader threatens Leia, that’s when Luke bursts into angry attacks, Vader senses his fear and anger then too--Vader is going to do to Luke what Palpatine did to him. This is why Obi-Wan and Yoda were wary on Dagobah--I recently rewatched that scene and their big point is that Luke’s not ready emotionally, that every step of the way he’s demonstrated he falls prey to his fears and defeatism, like in the cave when faced with the fearful vision of Vader, like when trying to lift the X-Wing out of the swamp. This is why Obi-Wan says, “Luke, I don't want to lose you to the Emperor the way I lost Vader.” Because that unmastered fear for your loved ones is the tool that took down Anakin and now he’s going to use that same tool on Luke--and that’s the theme of Star Wars, that you have to master your fear, that’s Luke Skywalker’s journey, that he wasn’t born perfectly in control of himself, that even good people can fall prey to fear. There was a real chance it could happen, because Vader was an expert in knowing how to wield fear, no one knew better than him how deep that fear could cut.

#anakin skywalker #luke skywalker #meta #comics #reading comics: darth vader vol. 2

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seat-safety-switch · 1 year

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I didn’t think my enemies could get to me here. Here, on my doorstep. Where I live. In the neighbourhood where ordinary people raise their families, oblivious to the secret war I wage every day against the forces of darkness. Somehow, in some way, this neighbourhood has produced not one, not two, not three, but four Suzuki Kizashis.

In case you’re unfamiliar, the Kizashi is a pretty okay little car. Suzuki had a short run of bringing a lot of “pretty okay little cars” to our shores, before the economic collapse made them give up on trying to be the small fish in a big pond. Which is a pity. All this is to say that they didn’t sell very many Kizashis, which are a handsome if slightly bulbous all-wheel-drive family sedan with a bad-ass name. It’s named after a fucking sword. Like, come on, you don’t see Ford Cinquedeas kicking around out there.

Anyway, like I said, I don’t see many of them. So I notice them when I do see them. And, for years, I thought there was only one in my neighbourhood, a kind of dilapidated silver-on-silver ex-lease model that lives near the gas station. The owner’s a little quirky, I told myself, and probably got a great deal on this car that they love so much. Then, I had to walk a different route home from the corner store one day due to sewer construction. I saw a silver Kizashi, in a different driveway. Friends, this was a different Kizashi.

Over the following weeks, I roamed the neighbourhood more, my mind unsettled. Statistically, there should be no way that a car which sold in the low thousands should be represented in my neighbourhood more than twice. And yet it was. A red one peeked out at me from an alley on a side street. I didn’t even know they made a red one. I began to gibber uncontrollably, and fled into the bike path, where I knew that no Kizashi could bother me. I was mere feet away from my home, out of breath, near tears, when I saw it. A white Kizashi.

Somehow, I managed to make it home. I ran inside, bolted the doors, turned the lights off, and wept profusely. My knowledge of the world’s oddball cars had been all for naught. There were so many of these, and so close – surely, they were a better shitbox deal than I had thought. That’s when I heard a strange revving. No. It couldn’t be.

With shaking hands, I pulled aside the staple-gunned moving blankets I had been using as curtains. There, on the street, a Suzuki Equator slowly did laps of my block. The operator stared into my home every time he passed, seeing but not seeing me, looking through me as if I had never existed.

I reached into my pocket. Something felt too big, out of sorts with the rest of my slim, metal Mopar dealer keys. I pulled the strange object out. A silver stylized “S.” The keys, I realized, to an SX-4.

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dailyadventureprompts · 1 year

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Villain: Dastigaan, The Maddest Mage of our Age

There’s a secret they won’t tell you about descending into the pit of madness. It’s that once you realize there’s no bottom your fall begins to feel a lot like flying.

It’s a well known fact that casters frequently meddle with powers beyond their understanding, at risk of not only inflicting trauma to their surroundings and their own mind, but onto reality itself. Dastigaan was the sort of mage folk all to reductively refer to as “mad”, the sort that confused the trauma he caused with an indicator of his growing power, and sought to cause more as a means of pushing his limits. He dealt with dark powers and lost himself in the forbidden reaches of the multiverse, returning home as a catacylsmic storm of arcane power that just so happened to still wear a mortal’s skin. Before he could unleash his terrible power he was caught and imprisoned by the great mages of the realm, an imprisonment that’s lasted for decades and will very soon come to an end, possibly with the party’s unwitting aid.

Adventure Hooks:

Dastigaan’s escape begins in the most innocuous way: The heroes come into conflict with a belligerent magic shop owner, who over promises on the capabilities or reliability of particular items and then throws the party out (using telekinisis) when they come back to complain. As they’re picking themselves up off the ground, a helpful tiefling by the tame of Tristham approaches to help dust them off and offer commiserations. the shopowner was an old business rival of his who elbowed him out of the magic trade and has been running roughshod over all the other enchantment vendors in town. Mutual cursing of the shopowners’s name turns into an offer of drinks, which turns into a completely innocent discussion of just how one might get into the shop and swipe a few choice items along with the owner’s collection of crafting diagrams. After the party returns victorious and after the heat dies down, Tristham will mention that he just so happens to have another job in the works, and that the party have just so happened to prove themselves more than qualified for an interview.

The architect of the big heist is one Ildra of Volennwal, a retired military officer and decorated war mage in her 60s who became dissolusioned with the kingdom’s goverannce after sustaining heavy personal injury including the loss of one of her arms to secure a victory that the diplomats traded away for trade concessions before she had even recovered. IIdra apparently has a plan to break a vault full of treasure held in reserve by the crown in the case of wartime, but is skeptical of the parties abilities to help pull it off despite her quartermaster Tristham’s appraisal. If the party want in, they’ll have to prove they can handle some danger... say by raiding a particularly notorious dungeon and bringing back a relic that will be useful in the caper

Drawn in by the promise of good pay and rich rewards by heisting an arcane vault, the party are half way into the execution of their plan when they discver that what they’re ACTUALLY doing is helping to break one of the most dangerous casters alive out of wizard jail. Do they abandon their plan an attempt to escape? Turn themselves over to the authorities? Go through with it and embrace their future as troubleshooters for a would be tyrant? They better make their decision soon, Ildra brought a small army of her old mercenaries buddies as a plan B of brute-forcing the jailbreak, and they won’t be too happy seeing their point-team turn tail and run.

Background: Far from the gibbering, nonsensical caricature that one could assume of most “mad” mages, Dastigaan is calm, cool, and in many ways perfectly reasonable. Backpacking through nightmare dimensions let him shrug off the destructive impulses of his youth and come to terms with what it really means to be a master of the arcane. The problem is where this reason will take him, as in order to avoid further pain, imprisonment, and attempts on his life, Dastigaan decided a few decades ago that each and every mage that acted against him or aided in his imprisonment must be made an example of. In order for these examples to be effective, they must be so direct and horrifying that they scar themselves onto history, a personal apocalypse delivered to each of the realm’s greatest casters to ensure the world learns from their mistake in opposing him.

This was exactly Ildra’s intent, having studied at the knee of one of those powerful mages and realizing far too late how his loyalty to the realm and distance and lofty position made him out of touch with the sacrifices of common people his grand stratagems necessitated. Knowing that she could never hold him, or the crown he served to account, Ildra remembered one of the old wizard’s forwarnings about the Maddest Mage of the Age and knew she had a weapon.

Further Adventures:

If your party don’t pick up on the original magic shop plot-tread (bastards) consider having them join up with the mercenary company that Ildra employs, or come into service of one of the mages Dastigaan is going to eventually target just before he escapes on his own.

The escape of the Maddest mage of the Age is going to make the great wizards and sorcerers of the realm shit their collective robes, having them stockpile arcane weapons, vanish completely as they flee to other planes, or drop all their responsibilities and disguise themselves as commoners while they wait for this all to blow over. While the panic and the chaos it brings begins to trickle down to the commons, the party end up adopting a skittish grey cat who seems intent on following them about for protection. This cat is infact Ildra’s mentor, having polymorphed himself into an easily overlooked form with a collar of nondetection.

While he possesses innumerable forbidden magics learned in his time beyond the stars, Dastigaan’s chosen method of avenging himself against his captors is to open the door to his good friend the outergod of paradox and let the lovecraftian horror horror go to work. Each of these violations results in the creation of a grisly monument, proportional in size and horror to how culpable Dastigaan believed that victim was in his imprisonment. Some are merely fist sized idols of clay and still living meat, others are grotesque instillation that eat up the lives and bodies of an entire city block.

#villain #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #5e #horror #heist #theif #shopkeep #low level #mid level #Merchant #mercenaries #jail break #wizard #warlock #sorcerer #warfare

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dangermousie · 10 months

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This scene turned me into a gibbering lunatic

Here she is being beaten, for speaking nothing but the truth, and all he can do is watch her being punished for standing up for him, because even though he’s the most powerful man in a 100miles radius, he is powerless in terms of court structures and, as daddy delighted in pointing out, he can take her away but then her family pays and so all he can do is just stand there, fists clenched, as she utterly refuses to be cowed.

His rage is literally changing the weather. One begins to wonder if the emperor is a congenital idiot to do his utmost to piss off a man who is only prevented from murdering them all by morals and willpower but otherwise can do it in about three seconds flat.

The fact that in the middle of being severely beaten, she has the presence of mind to be concerned for him and the bit with the petal. Like!!! It’s a little like when he was badly wounded and the doc was all “you can’t use magic because if you do you might run mad,” but then she was hurt and he was all “no I don’t care” and used every last bit he could. The way they put the other person first when push comes to shove, even in extremity!

I find it so telling that I think this is where he decides to leave the priesthood and undergo that test of hell or w/e which you must go through to defrock and which is not only horrific but is something nobody has survived for hundreds of years - he’s long realized he was in love with her but that just resulted in him pushing her away. He was desperately trying to stick to the path and even recently was all “why would anyone defrock and go through this mad test, if you cultivate that is what you should be doing.” And I love that what changed for him wasn’t realizing he loved her (he realized that ages ago) or realizing she loves him (I don’t think he necessarily dares to believe she does, and I honestly don’t think she’s aware of her feelings), but an almost justice-seeking “absolute devotion deserves a return of absolute devotion, sacrifice deserves sacrifice” worldview, and it is so in keeping with Shi Ying, idealist par excellence, that what evokes this mad decision in him is not a burst of passion but demonstration of deliberate dedication on the part of Zhu Yan. And I love that it’s not portrayed as a big moment of realization - it’s almost inevitable and gradual and without fanfare and not even something he tells her, because he is not doing it to get anything from her, he is doing it for himself, if it makes sense.

#cdrama #xiao zhan #ren min #the longest promise

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g-xix · 9 months

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Heyy could u write for gib❤️

How he'd React When You're on Your Period | Aneson Gib

Uhm ofc I can write smth for bae??? Req from the lovely @awhoreforhim , feel free to request more HC's or other oneshots from me! Quick photo check:

Cutie. Alright, enjoy the rest of the story anyways:

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-I think you'd be quite nervous sort of saying and admitting it at first because you wouldn't know how he'd take it and whether he'd be helpful or kinda mean about it... He'd keep pushing and asking "What's wrong", laughing every time you came close to saying it before backing out and turning your back to him to hide your embarrassed laughter. As soon as you admitted it, all he'd say is "Oh." and laugh about the fact you found that so hard to say.

-Wouldn't know really how to help but wouldn't be panicky about it, just sort of suggest everything that came to his mind

-Goes to the fridge, opens it and asks whether you want anything. Like, he'd literally start listing off things in the fridge and checking whether you wanted each individual thing. Carrot? No. Yoghurt pot? No. Seeded bread? No. Olives- I TOLD YOU I DIDN'T WANT ANYTHING-

-Teases you a bit by getting on your nerves- never enough to make you actually annoyed or unhappy, just to mess with you. And he'd easily laugh away any hard feelings afterwards. "I bet cuz I'm a boxer I could firm period cramps better than ninety percent of women," He'd brag, and you knew fully well he was just messing with you, but feel obligated to roll your eyes either way.

-Man never cooks but when you're on your period he always tries to cook your own food instead of ordering it on Uber eats. He read somewhere that greasy fast-food makes cramps worse and so he always tries to make things at home when your on your period so you aren't eating any preservatives or other fast-food chemicals either

-Bought you a candle smelling of your favourite scent (imma say vanilla teehee) from Amazon to add to your candle collection and try to cheer you up because your on your period. Mf forgot to order on Amazon prime though, and as it came a week later when you weren't on your period, so he just kept it as a little gift for himself.

-Randomly begins shadow boxing your stomach when your sat together watching a movie or doing other menial tasks. Then starts joking about the fact he's so powerful he didn't even need to touch you and you was already bleeding.

-Literally so annoying but you can't genuinely get annoyed at him because you just find yourself laughing whenever he starts pissing you off.

-He bought a bag of literally every period product he could find at Sainsbury's the one time you asked him to get you some products, then demanded a visual explanation of how a tampon worked when you took the box. You had to take a bottle of water and show how it worked by inserting it in there, and he was shocked as he watched the tampon absorb the water and almost triple in size, shaking his head in disbelief. "THAT CANNOT GO INSIDE YOU!" He would declare in sheer disbelief, marching around the flat in horror. Never a dull time with Gibbo.

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Hope everyone enjoyed!

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As always, check out more of my work on Sidemen, Beta Squad @ Chaos crew on my MASTERLIST

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#aneson gib #big gib #big gibber #gib #boxing #youtube #youtube boxer #headcannons #fluff #cute #period #request #requested #requests open #youtube boxing #sidemen #beta squad

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st4rshiptr00per · 4 months

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i havent told this to literally anyone because who would i tell but im like deranged about provost tepesh i need to just make an oc at this point. like we all know i have a major weakness for characters who are egotistical bitches with heart of gold, somewhere, deep down, so taking one of those and then being like 'heres an alternate version of them thats got the exact same personality but is also a Sad Vampire' makes me fucking CRAZYYYYYY. and that character only exists for HALF OF ONE STORY? AND IS NEVER MENTIONED AGAIN? for the love of god help me.

#also: shes a woman to me. big butch vampire. ok #i mean at this point all of colin bakers characters are women to me. due to the madness.#i Will make up a bunch of lore for her. i will do this #dw #gibber

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sarifel-corrisafid-ilxhel · 3 months

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Terrible Idea No. Whatever

This has no basis in canon, but: The Animorphs find out about an actual superhero in The Big Urban Area Near Their Hometown. The superhero is called Bad Dog, and they are absolutely terrifying, but they never hurt anybody. They just scare the crap out of bad guys so badly that when the cops arrive, the bad guys are a gibbering mess, or sometimes the bad guys run to the police for help and turn themselves in.

Every time the police try to catch Bad Dog, like, say, by chasing Bad Dog down an alleyway, the vigilante just vanishes into thin air. Turns out it's just Erek tricking and scaring the bad guys with cleverly used holograms and forcefields.

#Animorphs #Chee #Erek King #Terrible idea #What if?

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mollyjames · 2 years

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I don't know if I agree with the prevailing notion that good eldritch horror is about the thing being incomprehensible. I mean, yes, traditionally, by definition that is the case. But that's not really what gets my motor going.

Ghosts are spooky things, but they are, fundamentally, sneaky things. A supernatural murderer or creature monster might be stronger than your average human, but they can be overcome with weapons and numbers. Even your Godzillas can be rallied against, planned around, fought. But a good Eldritch horror, for me? Overwhelming. Nothing you can do about it.

Take The Thing for instance. The horror comes not from not knowing what the Thing is. It's a gibbering fleshy alien monster that infects other organisms to propagate. We actually spend quite a bit of time in that movie learning about the Thing, figuring out its weaknesses, and how to identify it. The horror comes from if even one cell of the Thing gets out of the Antarctic, the Earth is basically doomed. That if it had landed anywhere else, we'd all already be dead. You just dont get that kind of scale with any other monster.

idk, maybe what I'm asking for is something else entirely, but I just don't find cryptic cults and madness inducing tomes that compelling. I'm here for the big fuck off god monster.

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rosemaidenvixen · 7 months

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Another halloween prompt ask! This time Trollhunters. “Quit trying to scare me! I know that’s you!” For Stricklake, maybe a troll reveal sort of thing but at the wrong time being halloween. (4000-5000 words?)

The night was dark but the porch light was a beacon in the gloom. Strickler used this light as a guide, shoulders were aching with the force of his wingbeats but he didn’t dare slow down. It was a miracle he was able to get on top of this at all and he couldn’t waste a second. Landing on the porch with a heavy thump, he didn’t even allow himself to wince at the noise before he pulled open the door and stumbled inside.

The hall was dark and quiet, a distant light and soft noises of footsteps in the kitchen the only signs of habitation. Unmeasurable relief shot through him, Strickler slammed the door to the Lake house behind him, far beyond caring about the noise, leaning back against the wood and letting out a deep shuddering breath. Horns scraping against the paint. He’d done it, he’d beaten the rest of the Janus order here, now he just needed to–

“Jim?” Barbara’s voice echoed out from the kitchen “Is that you?”

Strickler went stiff, claws cutting curls out of the wood. He didn’t have much time, at any moment no fewer than half a dozen changelings would storm the house to ‘eliminate’ the Trollhunter’s mother.

He couldn’t let that happen.

He’d protect her, he’d protect her to his dying breath. But no matter how the events of tonight unfolded his true nature would be revealed to her and whatever budding sprout had bloomed between them would wither.

Strickler swallowed hard, pushing himself upright as the footsteps became louder.

No use in wallowing. This was always going to happen. No point in clinging to what could have been in another life, best just to rip the bandaid off.

“Are you–” Barbara walked into view at the end of the hall, stopping dead in her tracks. Even through the shadows Strickler could see her eyes going wide behind her glasses.

Strickler swallowed back his nausea and pulled himself to his full height, wings flaring behind him.

Rip the bandaid off.

“I am a creature beyond your reckoning human,” he leaned heavily into the gravely edge of his troll voice, stalking forward down the hall “Flee this place, for if you don’t tonight will be filled with horrors beyond your–”

“Quit trying to scare me,” Barbara snapped “I know it’s you,”

Strickler froze, jaw gapping open. Stunned into silence for the first time in centuries.

Even though he was standing in front of Barbara with his ugliest secret laid bare, she didn’t look afraid. Hands on her hips, eyebrows rumpled, and mouth set in a firm line. An expression not unlike the one she’d had when Jim had tried to sneak back in past curfew on the night she’d had him over for dinner.

“I– you– what?”

How the mighty have fallen. The cunning leader of the Janus order reduced to a gibbering buffoon.

“Walter I…” she let out a heavy sigh “I know everything,”

He shifted his wings behind him, suddenly sheepish “When you say everything…”

“Trolls, changelings, the bridge, Everything!” Barbara walked over to the couch, flopping down with a puff of breath “Jim told me weeks ago,”

“Jim confessed?” Strickler cautiously stepped towards her.

She snorted “Hardly, he tried to spin some big tale about chess club and the Russian mafia and I made him fess up,”

Shifting back into his human shape, Barbara not even twitching at the transformation, Strickler gingerly seated himself on the couch a respectable three feet away from Barbara.

“I don’t understand, if you knew about…me, why did you let things go on for so long?”

Barbara rolled her head over to face him, expression utterly unimpressed “I was waiting for you to tell me,”

“......Ah,”

“Granted this wasn’t they way I imagined you doing it, but at least it’s out there now,”

At least a full minute of the most uncomfortable silence Strickler had ever experience stretched between them before he cleared his throat “I understand, I…apologize for my deception, founding a relationship on false pretenses was wrong and I promise I won’t bother you–”

“Walter stop,” Barbara dragged a hand across her face “I’m not breaking up with you over this. Granted we are going to have a very long talk about how long you deceived me for and you putting my son in danger on multiple occasions, but I’m not ending things with us,”

For the second time tonight Strickler found himself utterly speechless, it took him longer than he cared to admit to both shut his jaw and find his voice “But…why?”

“Jim told me about changelings, and about you. About how you aren’t given any choice about serving Gunmar, and how you in particular put yourself at risk multiple times just to help Jim. We do have a lot to talk about, but for now just accept I don’t want to end things with you,”

Strickler felt his throat going tight “Barbara that’s not what I–” he choked up, shifting into his troll form with a crackle “How can you want to be with me, knowing I’m not human,”

For the first time this evening Barbara’s eyes softened “Because you’re still a person. Because troll, changeling, or something in between you’re still a person. Granted I’m not very pleased with that person at the moment, but that doesn’t change the fact that I care about them very much,” she reached out to cup his face, warm skin meeting cool stone.

His throat was choked but now with an entirely different emotion. Strickler raised his own hand to cover Barbara’s. Troll and human intertwined, gazing into Barbara’s eyes, heart swelling with emotion as he shifted back into human skin.

He could have stayed there staring into that gaze forever, but he forced himself to stand.

“We should finish preparations before the Janus order’s agents get he–”

Barbara shot to her feet “Wait, the order’s sending agents after me!?”

“Well yes I–”

She ran around the room, locking every door and shutting all the blinds “Why on earth didn’t you lead with that!?”

“I was trying but you interrupted me!”

“This is pretty crucial information Walter!”

“You said you knew everything! I thought that included this!”

Barbara rolled her eyes while grabbing a wooden staff out of the front closet “Fortunately I’ve been taking magic lessons,” the crystal head of the staff glowed a deep blue “You want to help me give their assassins what for?”

With a grin he shifted to his troll form, toothy smile turning into a fanged grin as he pulled a blade from his collar, hope and elation the likes of which he’d dared not let himself feel in centuries welling up in his chest “I would be delighted,”

#tales of arcadia #trollhunters #walter strickler #barbara lake #stricklake #rmvwrites #halloween prompts

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vorchagirl · 26 days

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writing prompts

14 and 25 for your choice of Ryder

A/N - Thanks for the prompt! Combining "she clouds your judgement" and "we have three hours" was a little difficult, but I made it work! Enjoy! I went with Reyes & Cerys, set well before High Noon.

"You told the Pathfinder?" Keema's voice rose sharply, and he felt her pin those luminous blue eyes on him.

"Yes." Reyes didn't look up as he continued flicking through reports on his datapad.

He'd known she would would make a big deal about this. She liked Cerys, but she didn't trust her any more than she trusted Sloane. The Pathfinder was an outsider, and one of the invaders who wanted her people's land.

"You told her you're the Charlatan?"

He finally glanced up. "Yes."

Keema rose from her seat at the bar and joined him at the table. "Are you mad? She's Initiative, Reyes! She's practically the enemy! A useful tool for taking out Sloane, yes, but she'll betray us the moment her superiors give the order-"

"She won't." Reyes set the datapad down with a sigh. "She's on our side and she wants Sloane out as badly as we do."

The angaran woman scoffed. "I highly doubt that. She hasn't had to live under Sloane’s thumb! Scraping a living and struggling to survive while the bitch bleeds us dry! She didn't have to watch as Sloane introduced a drug into slums that reduced my people in gibbering wrecks! And your precious Pathfinder doesn't have to live with the threat of beatings and violence if we don't pay protection fees!"

He drew in a deep breath and picked up his whiskey as Keema ranted, watching the condensation bead along the rim.

"Nevertheless," Reyes broke in quietly, but with enough conviction that Keema shut up. "She is the one who got the drug out of the slums, and she's made her stance on the beatings and violence clear. Cerys hates Sloane and wants her dead. The Pathfinder will help us, I've ensured her loyalty."

His body clenched as he remembered exactly how they had sealed their deal in his hideout in the Draullir caves. He could still feel her body against his, could still taste her kiss on his lips. Cerys had been everything he'd thought she would be and more, because despite her good girl exterior she was a very very bad girl in bed.

The rest is under a cut!

And she was very susceptible to his charms.

Keema’s eyes narrowed and her lips curled ever so slightly as she read his expression. Reyes didn't flinch under the scrutiny; he liked Keema. She was useful and she recognised an opportunity when it came along. But her mistrust of Cerys Ryder was blinding her.

"You slept with her, didn't you?" A knowing smile slid across her face and she tossed her head back and laughed throatily. "Reyes Vidal, the consummate player got played by a goody two shoes Initiative woman barely out of her teens. I never thought I'd see the day when a woman whipped you so soundly."

Reyes clenched his teeth at her phrasing and set his whiskey down without taking a sip. "I didn't get played, Keema, I-"

"But you did sleep with her despite your policy of not mixing business with pleasure?" She sounded intrigued, and she reached for his glass, draining the whiskey one gulp. "Know what I think? I think you're blind when it comes to the Pathfinder. I think she clouds your judgement until you can't see straight-"

Reyes grinned and shook his head. "No. I've just tied her to us so tightly that she can't betray us, even if she wishes to. If she does, the Initiative will find out just how much she's meddled here on Kadara. She's done things the Resistance would crucify the Initiative over, and she's already become involved in our little Exile war - something the Initiative has forbidden her from doing. Trust me, she's on our side."

And of course, he had slept with Cerys to seal their deal, but not because he'd planned to. He liked her and he'd wanted her. She made him feel things he hadn't felt for a long long time. And perhaps most importantly if all, she gave him hope that maybe he could succeed here on Kadara and turn things around.

Keema watched him carefully and finally sighed, setting the empty glass down. "I think you're a fool, but if you trust her, then I'll trust you." She leaned back and smiled. "And if she tries to betrays us, if I even suspect she'll betray us, I'll have her killed. Fair?"

Reyes glanced up as a flare of anger shot through him at the threat. Cerys was his now - if anyone tried to harm her they'd find out how dangerous he could be. Would Keema would do it, he wondered. Probably not, but if she did hurt Cerys he would rain hell down on her and her people in retribution.

She had to know that.

He bared his teeth in what he hoped looked like a smile. "She won't betray us."

"Fine," Keema waved a hand, dismissing the Pathfinder. "But onto more pressing business, have you decided which of Sloane’s men you'll use to take out Kaetus?"

Reyes' smile stretched into a genuine grin, and he passed the datapad to Keema. "I have. The bastard won't stand a chance, and Sloane will fall for this hook line and sinker. The turian is her weak spot and she'll go ballistic when we hurt him."

"Hmmm," she nodded as she flicked through the names of the men, her expression approving. "Good choices. Have you decided when this little event will take place?"

"Three hours from now."

Keeme's head jerked up in surprise. "You don't waste any time, do you?"

"The longer we wait, the greater the chance that one of the men will have an attack of conscience. I won't risk that. It happens today."

He lounged back in his seat and gazed around the room at the assembled Collective Representatives, his most trusted lieutenants ready to follow his lead and die for him. The chess pieces were in place, all he had to do was make this final move and it would be checkmate for Sloane.

"Today," Reyes met Keema’s eyes and held her gaze, "Sloane dies."

She grinned and poured them both another whiskey. "I'll drink to that."

#reyes vidal #reyder #mass effect andromeda #my writing #saints and Liars

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