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adventuringblind · 6 months

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Not Your Fault

Max Verstappen x Reader x Oscar piastri

Genre: Angst

Summary: Max and Oscar have to comfort their girlfriend who's hospitalized after a major crash.

Dialouge prompt: "It's not your fault"

Warnings: major crash, injury description

Notes: This is part of my 1000 follower celebration! Requests are still open for it if you would like to participate!

Masterlist

"Red flag Max, red flag." Comes GP's voice over the radio.

Something in his stomach dropped at the words. Crashing is a risk they all take every time they get into the car, but that dosen't it isn't hard when it happens.

"Who was it?" His fingers crossed. Silently begging whoever controlled fate that it was neither a McLaren nor a Ferrari. He's not sure he could handle it.

"It's a Ferrari."

"Who?"

"Y/N"

His heart dropped. She'd been called to drive in place of Carlos. The Spainard had caught Covid and was out for the entire triple header. She'd gotten a chance, and now she'd crashed out.

"Is she okay?"

"Max-"

"Is she okay, GP? Please, I need to know." His heart is beating faster then he would’ve liked, but he can’t help it.

“They haven’t gotten a response yet. Ferrari was checking to see the damage on the car but haven’t gotten a response yet-”

“They were checking on the car?!” Max’s blood is boiling as he peels into the pit lane. He rips himself out of the car as marches to where GP and Christian are presumably waiting for him. They look neutral at the moment.

Christian grabs him by the shoulders to stop him from going any further, but it doesn’t matter. The screen is replaying the crash. Something must have happened with the steering and braking because the car just didn’t slow down. It hit the wall at 200 mph. The Ferrari car is stuck in the barriers. The fence having come down on top of her, essentially burying the car underneath.

“Any word yet?” His voice breaks. eye’s still trained on the screen as it shows the Marshalls trying to pull the debris away.

“Still nothing. They lost the onboard footage and can’t see her vitals.”

Max is about to jump into a rant. His anger at Ferrari still boiling. That is - until Lando comes barreling into him. The Brit is out of breath and flushed. “Haven you looked at your phone?”

All three Redbull members stare at him in confusion. Lando looks between them expectantly. “Well somebody better get Max his phone because Oscar is about thirty seconds away from killing everyone in the Ferrari garage.”

Max runs to grab his phone and comes back to Lando who is waiting impatiently for something. Texts from Charles and Carlos about what they know, A missed call from Oscar- “I don’t see anything apart from the usual.”

Land rips the phone out of his hands and pulls up his instagram. Then he find the Ferrari page and and taps on their story. He hands the phone back with sad eyes.

Within the mess or a PR scripted excuse, one thing sticks out to him the most: ‘driver error.’ Max the pulls up Charles’ texts. His hands are shaking with the impending appearance of Mad Max.

Charles gives him the whole story. ‘Don’t believe the story! I saw the data, it was the teams fault.’

“Oscar saw this, didn’t he?”

“Kim, Jon, and Andrea are keeping him confined, but unless you want to be outed to the world I suggest you come help.”

Max looks at the screen. Still no sign of life. The car is still buried.

Then he looks to his team principal for approval. Christian nods and then the two are ducking and dodging cameras.

Oscar isn’t mad often. Rarely, even. He has so much patience for people that Max sometimes wonders where he puts it all.

He found out after the Qatar sprint. Max was getting some nasty hate. It was under every photo Redbull or himself put out. He simply put his phone away and tried not to let it bother him. Their female lover saw but knew better then to start something and decided to, and he quotes, ‘fuck the diets and eat Max’s favorite.’ Which the Dutch had been more then happy to do.

Oscar on the other hand was going to chew out every person who boo’d at max on their way to the hotel. Oscar’s anger comes in the form of harsh words and stupid actions until it turns to wet and it’s like every emotion he’d been stifling hits him all at once. Then it’s all teary eyes a cracked voices.

Max and Lando round the corner and sneak through the back of the McLaren garage. Straight into Oscars room where they are supposed to find him.

He is, in fact, nowhere to be seen.

Max makes a break for the Ferrari garage. He wants to be relieved when he sees the Australian with Charles, but he can’t be because he’s with some of the Ferrari staff as well.

He breaks the circle and sets a, hopefully calming, hand on Oscar’s shoulder. “Any news on her condition?” The men in red shoot him dirty glares as he interrupts whatever they were talking about previously.

“No.”

Okay, rude.

Charles clears his voice. “Actually, me and Oscar were just discussing her condition. They pulled her out of the car - but it doesn’t look good. The FIA might stop the race because of the barrier.”

“Thank you for the update, Charles. We’ll be going now.” Max and Lando have to drag a ver stubborn Oscar away.

They pile into Lando’s room since it’s closer and Oscar collapses. Him and Max almost topple over together. “They said it’s her fault when it’s not!”

“I know. It’s out job to make sure she knows that too. Chewing out Ferrari isn’t going to help.” At the moment, Max can’t help but finish in his head.

They take some time to calm down before heading back out. They are greeted with the news that the race has been cancelled due to the barrier meaning that the two are free to leave.

Which they do, with incredible speed.

She had to be transferred to the hospital. According to the doctor that greets them, she’ll make a full recovery but it will take a while to get there. A few broken bones, some internal bleeding, a concussion, a major gash, but she’s alive. That’s what matters.

Oscar and Max spend the night in her room. The two patiently waiting for her to wake up. Charles had dropped by with Lando to bring them her stuff and see how she’s doing. Max was happy they brought food and Lando actually took to force feeding Oscar.

They wake the next morning to quiet sniffles. Max cracks his eyes open to see her, staring at her cell that Max left on the side table, with tears streaming down her face.

He is up and alert in a second with Oscar coming to slowly. “Schat, talk to me.”

She just hands over her phone without saying anything and Max scrolls through it for a few moments. Apparently Ferrari’s statement went further then he thought. Again, they are playing the blame game.

And no, absolutely not. Max Verstappen is not the kind of man to let her believe this. He turns off the phone and tosses it aside before Oscar can see. He really doesn't need another passive-aggressive Assie incident.

"Charles saw the data. It was the car. It wasn't your fault."

"But everyone is believing it was. How am I supposed to build a career now?" She sobs. The EKG is beeping wildly with her heart.

Oscar, in his sleepy state, switches from leaning on Max to climbing into bed with her. It works like a charm, and she starts to breathe again. It's labored, but it's calming down, at least.

"You'll show them. The data will come out eventually." Oscar mumbles into her shoulder.

"And until then -" Max intertwines hands with both his lovers. "- We'll defend you because we love you."

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 6 months

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Have you never heard of such a thing, darling?

There is an abrupt cut to a classic YouTube channel intro. It’s the name ‘The Gotham Files, with Tim Drake’ in a metallic font, bouncing around to royalty-free, terrible dubstep music while fake strobe lights dance in the background. It is impossible to tell whether this is ironic or not. Assumedly yes, though, because then it cuts to a blank title card that seemed to have been ripped right off of a PowerPoint presentation that reads ‘Also Marinette is here’.

(The Timari Buzzfeed Unsolved Au)

Chapter 1: The Mysterious Case of Wayne Manor

A boy sits in a nondescript white room, on a white sofa, in a white shirt and black slacks. This could have all been controlled, of course, however, even the boy himself is not the most colorful – his skin is pale, his hair jet black, and even his eyes are a seemingly lifeless grey. He smiles at the camera, but there’s something unsettling about it. He shows off way too many teeth.

He waves jerkily. “Hello, everyone! I’ve gotten a lot of new subscribers since my last video hunting down the demon known as Poison Ivy –.”

There is an abrupt cut to a new bit of footage, in black and white to signify that it was from the past:

“If you’re a demon then you have to curse me,” the boy is saying from behind a camera.

A seemingly normal woman, though admittedly she is covered in enough dirt to make you wonder if she had just come back from digging up a grave, gives him a blank look. “Why would I do that?”

“You gotta.”

“I’m not going to.”

“Lame.”

The woman’s face drops into the annoyance that had clearly been threatening to appear for a while, and she starts to stand. The boy makes a squeaking noise and immediately runs in the opposite direction.

“– who was not a demon, she was just a regular lady who was really obsessed with poisoning rich people. Which is perfectly understandable and could happen to anyone.”

He nods sagely. There is no reason for this. He simply does. And does it for too long. It gets uncomfortable very quickly.

“But, this does not necessarily mean that ghosts and demons do not exist!”

He smiles.

“Now, in this episode, I am going to solve the mystery of whether Wayne Manor is truly hauhahaha–!”

He breaks character abruptly, bursting into laughter, covering his mouth with his fist in an attempt to smother it. A flush spreads across his cheeks, finally adding much-needed color to the room. “Sorry, I can’t – I can’t do my usual intro with you there.”

A person behind the camera giggles. “Aw, am I distracting you?”

“You were looking at me like you thought I was possessed, of course it was distracting.”

“You looked possessed, I don’t know what to tell you –!”

He laughs at her and makes a spinning motion with his pointer finger. “Oh my god, Editor!Me, just roll the intro here.”

On cue, there is an abrupt cut to a classic YouTube channel intro. It’s the words ‘The Gotham Files, with Tim Drake’ in a metallic font, bouncing around to royalty-free, terrible dubstep music while fake strobe lights dance in the background. It is impossible to tell whether this is ironic or not.

Assumedly yes, though, because then it cuts to a blank title card that seemed to have been ripped right off of a PowerPoint presentation that reads ‘Also Marinette is here’.

When the white screen disappears, the viewers find Tim standing alone in front of a wrought iron fence. The plants at the fence’s feet are overgrown, weaving intricately around the poles and climbing up the sides.

Tim had also climbed up the fence, evidently, seeing as he was still breathing a little heavily. The boy looks more normal now, wearing an old hoodie and jeans and smiling in a way that shows off his dimples. His cheeks have far more color in them now, but that just might be due to overexertion.

“Hey, so, GCPD – I know you watch my videos because Poison Ivy got arrested like a week after I posted – I would like you to know that I’m not actually trespassing. In order to trespass, there have to be people living in the place you’re supposedly trespassing in. Probably. I don’t know the law. But you guys don’t, either, so!”

He flashes a finger gun with the hand not holding the camera and attempts a wink. Unfortunately, Tim is unable to wink, so he just ends up blinking aggressively at a camera lens.

But that’s beside the point! He turns the camera around to point it at what one would, politely, call an abandoned mansion.

Less politely, it would be called a safety hazard. Half of the building looked like it had caved in on itself, graffiti covered the previously pristine white walls, and plants climbed in and out of every window. The back door hangs half off its hinge, and Tim doesn’t even want to imagine what has taken residence in the place since the Wayne family’s unfortunate passing.

“Everyone ready for another day of probably getting tetanus?”

There is no answer. He is talking to a camera.

Said camera speeds through the next few minutes of Tim exploring. Stagnant water and mold, dust bunny families and spiderwebs, a raccoon that Tim runs from immediately, rusting cookware still left out on the counter for a family that would never get to eat it, a moment to linger on Tim when he stubs his toe on a loose floorboard and heaves a deep sigh, a portrait that was peeling out of its frame, a broken grandfather clock, Tim posing in front every graffitied penis he could find, ransacked closets and cabinets…

He stops in the middle of the mansion, smiling widely when the camera is spun back to look at him. “Well, no ghosts yet, but we can’t rule them out. I guess.”

He takes off his backpack and begins rifling through it until he finds his Spirit Box.

“Now, I’m sure that most of you know what this is, but just in case you don’t: a Spirit Box will cycle through local radio frequencies at a rapid speed. The theory is that ghosts can string together these snippets of words to speak or answer questions.”

He shrugs his shoulders.

“Or, at least, that’s what people say. I’ll believe it when I see it. Until then, I’m going with a healthy mix of the ‘lucky coincidences’ and ‘confirmation bias’ theories.”

He flicks the nob to turn it on, and the radio immediately begins to cycle through vague sounds, the box crackling.

Tim shuffles a little, letting the box run as he shrugs off his jacket and sets it down so he can have a clean spot to sit for a while. He props up the camera on his knee and angles it up to show his face as he lifts the Spirit Box to his lips.

“Is anyone there?”

“Ye –!”

Tim looks unperturbed. “You said there’s someone there?”

The box sputters out an indecipherable string of sounds. A fluke, then.

He gives a small hum. “I see, I see.”

There is another moment as the box continues to make sounds. They’re deeper in tone now, but no closer to human language.

“Well,” he says. “If there is anyone in the room with me, I’d like to ask you to show yourself in some way. Possess something nearby, move something, make a sound –.”

The door slams open, and Tim instantly jumps to his feet, the camera catching a terrible view of the underside of his chin for a moment when he hugs it to his chest. Don’t worry, though, dear viewer, for he soon remembers that he is a YouTuber and quickly readjusts, pointing the camera at the door.

There is no one there, but a brilliant light illuminates the door opposite the room they are in.

“Wha…?” Tim says, his voice a whisper, only barely caught by his mic.

There is a person talking just outside the room. They are speaking in tongues.

Or perhaps in French, it is often hard to tell.

Regardless, the captions at the bottom of the video say that it is French and that she is apparently saying a vast quantity of demonetizable words that Editor!Tim could not write out.

The gist, though, is that she is apparently there because of a bet and not happy about it. Hence the many demonetizable words.

After a few seconds, Editor!Tim apparently gives up on censoring individual words, and instead chooses to bleep out the entirety of what she was saying. For the sake of monetization, not because he’s a stickler for rules or anything.

You might think that demonetizable words should be allowed when you are hunting ghosts and demons and the like, and Tim might agree, but he actually likes money, so...

What was the point here?

Oh, right.

Slowly, a girl makes her way into the room, her phone out in front of her like a pitifully tiny shield, the flashlight nearly blinding Tim.

She stares at him for a long few moments. She mumbles something to herself, but even in editing Tim had been unable to decipher it. So, yellow question marks litter the screen.

“Uh… hi,” Tim says, lifting his hand in an awkward wave.

[Ew, an American.]

Tim’s eyebrows shoot up into his hair. [You realize that you’re in America, right? Most people here are going to be Americans.]

Her eyes widen. “You… you speak French?!” she asks in heavily accented English, seeming mortified. Not because she felt bad about insulting him, but instead that she had been caught doing it.

[Obviously.]

Her face reddens, and she tries, unsuccessfully, to hide it with her free hand. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Are you really?”

She seems to consider this for a few moments, before shrugging. “I guess not.”

Tim should probably be offended. He isn’t, though. At least she was honest. Eventually.

She sticks a hand out. “I’m Marinette.”

He shakes it, smiling. “Tim.”

There were a few moments as they looked at each other, unsure what to do.

“I think your radio is broken,” she says finally, pointing at the Spirit Box. It lay on the floor, abandoned, just barely vibrating from the force of its own sounds. “Or, at least, it’s not getting any reception way out here. Keeps saying ‘Hi’.”

Tim frowns. “What time is it?”

“Like…” she looks at her phone. “About seventeen…”

She catches on to his blank stare. She glances behind herself, further into the house, as if considering braving the ghosts.

She is not brave.

She closes the door behind herself, smiling. “Right. American. Five in the afternoon.”

“Oh, that’s because everyone is getting off work and they’re greeting the sudden influx of viewers.”

“I have literally no clue how that correlates.”

“It’s ghosts,” he says, rolling his eyes.

She either does not understand sarcasm or simply does not want to risk it, because her shoulders hike up to her ears and she looks around quickly. “I’m going to kill Alya,” she hisses.

“If you hate ghosts that much, I don’t think that’s in your best interest. Because killing someone would lead to more ghosts, you know,” Tim points out.

Despite the fact that he keeps his tone as gentle as he can while breaking this news to her, she looks absolutely devastated.

Slowly, Tim picks himself up off of the floor, turning off the Spirit Box as he goes. The Spirit Box gives a high whine before sputtering out, but he pays it no mind, so this must not be important. He stuffs it in his bag and heads over to Marinette, slinging an arm over her shoulders and starting to lead her away, out of the room and through the many, winding hallways.

“Know what will calm you down? I’m going to tell you all about the family that once owned this place, and their unfortunate demises.”

“Are you streaming?” she asks, eyeing his camera warily.

“... does the way that I answer this affect whether I’ll die here or not?”

She giggles and does not answer. He does not seem assured by this.

Still, he points the camera at themselves and begins to explain: “The Waynes were a lovely family of philanthropists, and the town lost quite a lot when they were tragically shot after their family outing to the theater. To this day, twenty years after that tragic night, Gotham has yet to recover.”

A few moments of silence swallow them.

Text at the bottom of the screen says that this is not an editing mistake, and instead a choice made to respect the dead. There is also a timestamp where a person can skip to the next bit of ‘content’ if they so wish, and they would go on with their day none the wiser of the fact that Editor!Tim had called them a ‘limp noodle of a person who would not know morality if it walked up, introduced itself, and then punched them in the face’.

But, again, those people would be none the wiser, so…

Tim smiles charmingly at the camera, as if he had not just insulted a large portion of them without their knowledge. “Now their house is a prime hangout spot for dumb teens, such as Marinette and me.”

“I’m not dumb,” she huffs halfheartedly.

“You believe in ghosts.”

“Well, yeah, duh, I’d be stupid not to, seeing as my house is haunted.”

“You’ve seen ghosts?” Tim says, skeptical.

“You don’t see ghosts,” she sniffs, in that tone people use when they are offended by the stupidity they are being presented with. Tim gets this a lot, but never has he ever felt it was so unwarranted. “You just know they’re there. Like when they knock over your cups for no reason.”

Briefly, the image of a cat flickers on the screen. Because that is what she is describing. A cat.

“Okay. Unrelated question, is belief in ghosts common in your culture? Because they won’t treat you if it is.”

She shoots him an annoyed scowl, but there is something amused tugging at the corners of her lips regardless. “You’re the absolute worst.”

He grins. “Glad you think so. I put lots of effort into making people hate me, you know. It’s nice to have my efforts appreciated for once.”

“I wouldn’t say appreciated…”

“No no. I’m appreciated.”

“Okay,” she says easily.

They reach the front doors, and Marinette raises an eyebrow.

“You know, if you wanted me to leave, you could have just told me. I would have left.”

“I couldn’t just leave a woman in need alone,” he says, pressing a hand to his chest.

She looks unimpressed.

“... and, besides, I was pretty much done here, so…” he shrugs. “Figured I’d escort you out.”

She looks at her phone for a moment before shaking her head. “I appreciate it, but I can’t leave for another… twenty-three minutes.”

He thinks this over for a few moments, frowning. He glances back the way they came, as if considering hanging around for longer. And then he decides against it with a tiny shake of his head.

“You know, it’s illegal to be here,” he says.

“You’re here. And filming yourself doing the illegal thing. I think that makes what you’re doing way worse.”

Tim’s eyebrows knit together. “I mean, touche and all, but I was just saying that you could tell your friend that to get out of this.”

“... oh.”

He snorts into his hand. “Oh my god, did you really not realize?”

“Shut up! I hate you!” she whined. “I’ve had a lot on my mind, you know!”

“Yeah. Like cups falling off of tables, apparently.”

She punches him in the shoulder lightly, and he only laughs more openly.

Still, ever the gentleman (even while laughing at her misfortune), he opens the door for her. Still, despite her supposed hatred of him, she rushes through all too eagerly with a murmured thank you.

He only gets a second to follow after her before the door slams shut behind them, so close to hitting Tim in the back that the force of it makes his hair blow in his face.

Marinette throws him behind herself immediately, her hands up in a fighting position as if she intends to fight the ghost for him. Not that it would help, probably, but the thought was still there.

Tim looks a little touched as he rests a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

“Don’t worry about it, the place is old, and the loss of weight is probably just throwing everything off balance.”

“... is that supposed to make me feel better? Because all I’m hearing is that this building is super unstable.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re outside now, isn’t it?” he says, grinning cheekily.

And, despite herself, she smiles back.

His expression drops immediately as something hits him to make up for the door’s near miss. He groans and falls to his knees in utter devastation. “I left my jacket inside…”

“It’s the ghosts’ jacket now,” she says, patting him on the back in a way that really isn’t as consoling as she seems to think it is.

Tim starts to fake cry.

There is a hard cut. Tim is back on the couch he had been on at the beginning, but his posture is more relaxed this time and his smile is actually normal.

“Well, as usual, there was no ghost to be found. Because they don’t exist.”

A pillow sails across the screen, very intent on hitting him, but he bats it away easily. Because it’s a pillow.

“But maybe the real ghosts are the friends we made along the way!”

Marinette groans off-screen. “Don’t do this to me. You’re going to make me have an existential crisis.”

He hums a little, his eyes gleaming as he leans back, letting himself sink into the plush couch. “So, as usual, there isn’t much to go over…” He smiles. “I guess I can talk about meeting Mari, though. My first thought when meeting Mari was…” He trails off, visibly mulling it over in his mind with pursed lips. “Well, my first thought was that she looked scared and it would probably help her if she had someone to do this with.”

Someone behind the camera coos, not noticing the way his lips begin to tug upwards into a smirk.

“My second thought was ‘The people like it when I have guests on. I can capitalize on this’.”

Marinette makes a sound incomprehensible to human ears and rushes into frame, a new pillow raised. Tim screams.

The scene cuts. Marinette and Tim are sitting on the couch together, now. Their hair is a little messy from the unshown pillow fight. Marinette is lazing across the sofa, her legs thrown over Tim’s lap, so it was safe to assume she had won.

“You want to know what I thought when I first met you?” Marinette wears a slightly sheepish grin. “I thought ‘Oh my god, why is the ghost so tiny? He needs soup.’”

Tim snorts. “No way.”

She nods, trying and failing to keep her expression neutral. She turns to look at the camera dead on. “And, if you guys at home don’t want to be mistaken for skinny little ghosts, then you should hop on over to the website of our sponsor, Hello Fresh!”

Tim rests his arm over the top of the couch, smiling openly. “We’re actually sponsored by Raid: Shadow Legends.”

Marinette snaps her fingers in her best overdramatic ‘awwwww man’ gesture, shaking her head. “God dang it. It was worth a shot.”

“Eh, I’ll still use it as an excuse to do my ad read now.” He turns to grin at the camera, opening his mouth –.

As one, everyone watching leaves the video.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2

#maribat #timari #timinettte #timmari #this was supposed to come out on Halloween but shut up #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #tim drake

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sweeetestcurse · 1 year

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My Gif-Making Process

Hello! I'm Gilli and I've been making gifs for a very long time and have recently been asked a few times about my process. So I've decided to go into detail on that. Probably too much detail. But this should help out anyone that wants to make gifs of their own whether it's of video game footage they've recorded or movies/shows that they own physical copies of.

Below the cut is a step-by-step process that I go through, plus information on how to record their game/rip blu-rays to a PC for those that don't know how to do such. There are screenshots showing the entire process of me making a single gif and the end results of that.

I hope everyone finds at least one thing in this they find useful. 💖

Programs Used:

OBS Studio KMPlayer Photoshop MakeMKV

I wanted to start with how to record your game footage and how to rip blu-rays to your PC for those that aren't too sure about how to do that.

To record your own game footage, you'll need a program that records your screen as you play. For that, I use OBS Studio.

To set it up to record your screen, go down to the sources section and click add display capture. From there it'll have you pick which display it will be capturing, it should automatically have your primary monitor selected but if that isn't the case click the drop-down menu and pick the one that you'd be using to play games on. And make uncheck the box for capture cursor, as no one wants a flying cursor to ruin their footage.

You may need to resize the capture window to fit, but all that takes is hovering your mouse over it, clicking, and dragging it to fit.

Next, you should go into the settings set up a few things. Mostly to make sure it'll be capturing at the right FPS and the folder the videos will save to when you record.

These are the settings I use. I don't mess with the audio portions since that doesn't matter for gifs.

If you're using a capture card for a console, you can add that source to OBS, as well. This is what that looks like (you'll need to drag the window to fit here, as well.).

I don’t mess with the settings, as I’ve never needed to.

And now may be good to note that with older consoles the default FPS is 30. If you want to record footage of that you'll want to switch the number that's captured down to 30 as well so your gifs don't have extra frames.

With that all set up, you'll need to open up the game you're wanting to record. Sometimes recording is simple and other times it's a bit of a pain in the ass. When it's simple, you'll be able to alt+tab out of the game and start recording with OBS whenever you wish, so you won't have to make a huge video file for only a minute or two of footage that you want.

When it’s difficult, however, the game doesn't like being alt+tabbed out of and starts running sluggishly when you do that. When that happens, save and close out altogether. Then start recording with OBS before opening the game and go from there. It's a little bit of a process to find out which game is which, but it isn't a difficult one.

And to record a video in OBS, simply hit the Start Recording button and you're good to go. When you’re finished, click it again. And that’s it.

As for ripping blu-rays to your PC, you'll need to have either an external or internal drive that's able to read blu-rays and MakeMKV. And you should make sure you have enough space on your PC for it. I've found single episodes of a show can be anywhere from 5 GB to 20, and movies are larger the longer they are. The average I've run into is about 30 GB.

If you have all that set up and ready to use, start MakeMKV and click to open the blu-ray disk.

The movie (or episode) file tends to be the largest on the disk. Uncheck everything else and choose your output folder.

Then hit Make MKV and wait until it's done. The ensuing file should easily play in KMPlayer, or your program of choice.

________________________________________________________

Now, with all of that out of the way, we can get to the actual gif-making of this gif-making tutorial.

When you've got the video you want to capture frames of, open it up in your program of choice and capture away. These are the settings I tend to use.

To open the frames in Photoshop, click File and go down to Scripts > Load Files into Stack.

In the Use dropdown menu, click on Folder. Then click Browse and find the folder you loaded your frames into. If you want to make sure the files load in order, go ahead and click Sort By Name. It’s usually not necessary, but it could cut out the time it’ll take to reload the frames again if something goes wrong.

It should be noted that the process of loading frames will take longer the bigger they are, hence why I use the JPEG setting instead of PNG. I've not noticed a change in quality between PNG and JPEG, but if you wish to make sure you're using the best quality possible, go ahead and use PNGs, just know that this part might take some extra time if you do.

With everything loaded, click the Create Frame Animation button in the timeline window. Then, find the three small lines near the X that closes the Timeline window, and click on that then select Make Frames From Layers.

After this, you might need to highlight all the frames and, in the same menu, click reverse frames. It’s not actually reversing the gif, but making it so it plays correctly. For some reason, this happens a lot for me in Photoshop. I cannot explain why it does, just how to fix it. And it takes all of .5 seconds to do that.

Next comes the more tedious step in this whole process. You’ll want to go through each frame and make sure there’s no doubles. If there is, it’ll mess with the timing of the finished product. Double frames can make a gif seem slower than it should be overall, or just in certain parts. If you’re making a gif with a lot of frames it can be annoying, but it’s worth it in the end.

My next step is always to crop the canvas down with the crop tool. For simple scenery gifs that I save at 540x480 pixels, I use a preset that I made. 6:5. Then I'll drag and/or shrink it down to exactly what part of the canvas that I want to gif. In this case, I moved it a smidge to the right and hit crop.

Then I resize it. Since I've noticed that sometimes there's a small line around some gifs, I resize it down to 582x485 pixels so there's some extra I can crop out around the edges. It's a personal preference, you don't need to do this. It’s just something I’ve done for years.

From here, I start coloring/lighting. Most of the time, I use five layers for this. But every so often the gifs will need a bit extra to get them where I want them and I can end up with 10. It all depends on whatever it is I’m making gifs of. For the gif in this example, I'll be using my usual five layers. Levels, Curves, Select Color, Exposure, and Vibrance. I don't believe the order of the layers matters, but I always start with lighting and move on to the color.

This part is all personal taste. The way I choose to color things might not be how you like it. If that's the case, switch things up. Experiment. If you want things brighter, with the colors more saturated, try upping the levels on those layers. Hell, you might not even want to mess with the colors at all, just brighten things up which is totally fine. But these are the settings I've decided to use for this particular gif, for those that might be curious.

This is what the gif looks like before any coloring, sharpening, and without tweaking the frame delay.

First, I use a Levels layer. Most of the time I use it to start brightening things up, but sometimes I only use it to darken the shadows a bit. This time, I’m doing a little of both.

Then it's onto Curves for a little more brightening and some contrast. I use these sparingly. It's very easy to wash everything out.

And one last brightening layer, Exposure. I've never touched the Offset option. I don't know what it does and at this point, I'm too afraid to ask.

Next is Vibrance. So that I know exactly how much I need to fix/change the coloring. I don't like to make my gifs too saturated, so I don't mess with these settings very much.

And now comes the fun part. Actually coloring the gifs. I tend to situate my Selective Color layer between the Curves and Exposure layers, but I don't think it matters where it goes.

Here’s what it looks like before coloring.

This is another super subjective and personal series of settings. For this gif, I want to bring out more of the warm orange and yellow shades without washing out the green of the conifers in the background, but you might want to bring out cool tones instead. There's no wrong way to color gifs.

As I’m sure you noticed, with this gif I’m not messing with the Cyan, Blue, or Magenta modifiers. Not every gif needs to use every single modifier, and that’s fine.

This is the end result of all those steps.

And next is the sharpening. Select all the frames in the Timeline and the Layers window, head on over to those three little lines in the right corner of the Timeline window, and select Convert to Video Timeline.

Then click Filter > Convert for Smart Filters.

And then Filter > Sharpen > Smart Sharpen.

I use two sharpening layers and these settings aren't set in stone. Sometimes this is too much, sometimes it's not enough and I need to up some settings. It's just another one of those things you can to tweak as you work.

On the second layer, I hit the gear next to the OK button and selected both Use Legacy and More Accurate, then adjust as I wish.

Then I save it. I do not understand these settings. One might think that I would after using them for so long, but I do not. Please don't ask me about them or I might cry.

We’re not done quite yet. As I'm sure you noticed, the gif is a bit too large a file for Tumblr's 10 MB limit and I haven't even touched the frame delay settings. That's because I do it once the coloring and everything else is done.

Go to whatever folder you've saved your work in and drag the gif/s into Photoshop. Once they’re loaded, select all the frames in the timeline and click on any of the small arrows pointing down in the right-hand corner of each frame in the timeline, then select Other, then you'll need to set your frame delay.

For 30 FPS (console games and live action, usually) I use .05 and for 60 I use .04.

Next, I delete frames as needed to fit under Tumblr's limits. And with that done, this is the final result next to where I started out, so you can see the differences more clearly.

Before:

After:

I’m pretty sure I’ve gone over everything, but since I’ve been doing this for so long that I easily could have missed something since I’m so used to seeing it all the time. If anyone has questions, I’m more than happy to answer them. ❤️

#gif tutorial #gif making #tutoral #step by step #how-to #long post #god i hope i didn't forget anything

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presumenothing · 6 months

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hi! I really need some more zhou shen content, and am wondering if you can help me out. which are his best variety shows (that aren't singing comps, I think I've seen all those)? I loved youth periplous and keep running, and don't know what to watch next.

ok i'm gonna have to turn to crowdsourcing for this one because my attention span for watching shows esp general variety is basically Zero (0) so aside from a few exceptions the most i've seen is random clips of each. non-exhaustive list below shamelessly stolen off wikipedia, zhou shen tag friends please DO chip in with your sage advice

(also disclaimer that i have no idea about the eng sub availability and/or quality for any of these at all rip)

EDIT: comment party in the replies!! come drop in

music (regular):

声入人心/super vocal s1: the classic, probably everyone has seen this

我们的歌/our song: the new(?) classic. iconic showstopping etc

歌手·当打之年/singer 2020: need i say more

创造营/chuang 2021: dance dance revolution (polyglot edition)

天赐的声音/the treasured voice s3: still not over that 调查中 duet!! also shoutout to studio for solid rehearsal!shen vlog content

时光音乐会/time concert s2: A++ performances and vibes all around, including the game/dinner extras. also possibly still my favourite arrangement of 光亮

舞台2023/the next: lovely backstage bits of him working with contestants + nerding out over music with arai-sensei. plus that (literally) lit 人是＿ performance, we love to see it

music (guest):

蒙面唱将猜猜猜/masked singer: another classic

一起乐队吧/let's band: a rare 周浅 appears aww back when he would wince at people addressing him as laoshi

唱给世界听/sing tour: first appearance in a mentor role! though i don't think i've watched this one at all actually

这! 就是原创/chuang: remember when he actually broke a sweat over high Cs lmao. anyway tang hanxiao's skillz amirite

经典咏流传/everlasting classics s3: i need to listen to 情是何物 another 100000 times again actually?? also hiiii liao-laoshi

流淌的歌声/flowing melodies s2: the way everyone was just treating him like a walking jukebox on this one LOL 1000/10 valid

明日之子SUPER BAND: hey. hey lang lang you should bring this bean along to your appearances more often. please

乐队的夏天/the big band: that entire backstage footage of him and muma pls

上线吧! 华彩少年/bravo youngsters: ok i'll be honest i have no impression of what the actual show was about but the backstage clips were so fun

2060: mandatory mention simply because of that 浓情淡如你 performance aaaaaaaa

non-music (regular):

了不起的长城/the great wall

青春环游记/youth periplous s2: hilariously i'm pretty certain that everyone has watched more of this than i have

新手驾到/go newbies: the closest i will ever get to a driving license

令人心动的offer/an exciting offer s2-3: shenshen AND shuangbei (aka the he jiong + sa beining combo). what more could you ask for

开始推理吧/the truth: the only one of these i've watched in full (mostly). aka ZHOU KEKE my tiny beaaaaannnn 🥺🥺🥺

奔跑吧/keep running

non-music (guest):

出发吧，师傅!/shifu go go go: makes the list simply out of sheer hilarity

王牌对王牌/ace vs ace: that sa dingding duet!! aka instance no.??? of "let's elevate this non-music show to Concert Hall Levels"

天天向上/day day up: the one where he dubbed frozen live

向往的生活/back to field: hi maomao!

明星大侦探/who's the murderer NZND concert: aka Spooky Hours

奇妙之城/marvelous city: so nice to see him back home! also 10000/10 cave concert when

念念青春/searching for youth: A+ wardrobe choices no notes

种地吧: ditto (snuggly grey sweater!!)

你好生活 s4: aka the one where he nearly gave sa beining an aneurysm lmao

快乐大本营/happy camp and 你好星期六/hello saturday: hiiii he-laoshi!! also nezha!zs hahaha

#zhou shen #周深 #asks #anonymous #long post #the ones in blue are just my personal faves/ones i've watched more of #but yeah basically my solution to 'lack of zs' is nearly always to just go bilibili and inevitably discover 293842 vids i hadn't yet seen

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staycalmandhugaclone · 1 year

Text

If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved - Echo! You can read this little chunk as a standalone, or head back to the beginning for the full experience!

Why do these keep getting longer?! I really need to try to tone it back a bit lmfao. References to Panic and Secrets Revealed.

Febuwhump Day 9

Found Footage (Alt) – OC&TBB – A pleasant moment at 79s is shattered when someone tries to blackmail doc with footage of the crash on Agamar.

Warnings: Huge PTSD warning here. Flashbacks, disassociating, past injury description, blackmail, grief, angst, some alcohol use (social, not abuse), cursing

WC: 6227

The lounges of 79’s weren’t meant to hold a group of six, particularly with a man of Wrecker’s stature, but squeezing into the circular booth was part of the fun, back reclining against the massive clone’s side with his arm absently draped over my chest while my legs sprawled over Echo’s lap to avoid the accidental stomp of the big man’s heel. Tech was squished on Wrecker’s other side as Crosshair had adamantly claimed the end seat.

“-so I ripped the whole ramp clean off and used it to barrel right through ‘em! Clanker’s never even knew what hit ‘em!” I’d heard the story before, but he was already halfway through his fourth mug of something that looked like a sunset and smelled like motor fuel, and the enthusiasm in his thunderous voice was infectious in its own right.

“Technically, the processing speed of B1-series battle droids would have made them fully capable of analyzing your assault well before their demise; however, inadequate maintenance of their internal tactical components has led to compounding decreases in-”

“Ugh! Come on, Tech! Those things can’t process the difference between a tauntaun and a tooka!” Wrecker interrupted, arm swinging so violently that Echo had to duck sharply against Hunter to avoid getting hit. I’d long since abandoned my drink for fear of the man’s expressive gestures knocking the glass from my hand or bumping me at just the wrong moment, but I found very little need for such things in moments like this. If I was drunk, I might not have noticed the knowing look Crosshair offered his annoyed brother, nor the fond exasperation in Echo’s weary gaze as Wrecker’s anticks surely reminded him of his late squad.

“Doc,” I quickly turned my gaze as Hunter’s voice just breached the chaotic rabble of the bar, “Think your comm’s going off.” He nodded to my waist. Wrecker barely noticed my struggle to push him back enough to reach down for the thin device. The quiet alert chimed at regular intervals to indicate a video message. Slipping it partially into a chest pocket, I shifted to begin the process of escaping from the mass of bodies around me.

“Probably some reminder to recertify something,” I guessed, “I’ll be right back.” The Sergeant was already standing to let me out, but I didn’t bother waiting for Echo to do the same, instead simply scooting over his lap much to his surprise, and I couldn’t help but snicker at how he froze in that half-second of movement. I didn’t hear Crosshair’s snide remark, but his laughter was almost as loud as Wrecker’s, and that alone was worth the chastising look Hunter gave me.

“You want one of us to go with you?” He asked, leaning close enough for me to feel the heat of his breath so he didn’t have to shout to be heard. Cocking an eyebrow, I shot him a teasing smirk.

“It’s 79’s, Hunter. I’ll be fine for five minutes.” His expression instantly darkened, as though the words actually had the power to jinx the scant bit of time I’d be out of sight. I bumped my shoulder against his chest with a quiet chuckle and started through the mass of identical faces masking vibrantly different personalities dancing and shouting and enjoying this moment of freedom to the fullest.

The sudden quiet that loomed just beyond the front doors was striking. I could still hear the booming music and raucous voices, but, with just a few steps into the cool night air, it faded enough to allow a displaced sense of stillness that felt almost wrong after so long in the roar of the bar. Dismissing the strange sensation, I slipped the half-concealed comm from my pocket and walked toward the ally for whatever privacy I could find before transferring the file to my datapad to watch the video.

I didn’t understand what I was watching at first; not consciously. I didn’t understand why the dance of blues and grays beneath the occasional flicker of red sent my heart racing, why the line of distant trees too grainy for anyone else to make out trapped the air in my lungs long after it staled. I tried not to recognize the insignia of that sleeping tooka shoddily painted in hot pink and baby blue below the red medic symbol on the stolen Separatist transport; tried not to feel the icy sweet seeping over my skin as my eyes automatically sought out the crumbled door that I’d nearly broken my arm to wrestle open.

I could hear the flames, saw the glow steadily spreading to illuminate every crack in the shattered durasteel hull as the engines flares from fuel leaking precariously through broken pipes; watched the trembling form tumble from the slim opening I’d only just been able to make through welded and ruined machinery. I heard my heart hammering against my chest, felt the chill of panic flood my veins.

“Emmy!” My body crumbled against the wall at the utter hopelessness in the electronic distortion of my own voice breaking through the speakers of my datapad; at the desolate wail that seemed to go on for eternity immediately after. I didn’t realize I’d screamed back then, but the video zoomed in to show my face, deathly pale from blood loss and shock, expression twisted into a grief that tore through me as violently now as it did then.

My mind absently categorized the injuries of the figure on the screen that I found myself almost convinced wasn’t me: burns marred her hands and forearms, the front of her flightsuit nearly covered in black despite the flame-retardant nature of the fabric, likely indicating severe damage to the flesh underneath it; blood covered the right side of her face, hair heavily matted and near black with it – a concussion at the very least; and the amount of crimson-stained fabric wadded around that ankle was enough to leave one wondering if there was enough flesh to be saved beneath it all.

“Emmy!” That figure crawled barely a meter from the wreckage before shrieking that name again. And again despite how her voice shattered and failed.

I didn’t notice the image blur; even if I had, I couldn’t tell if it was from the tears pooling atop my eyes or the violent trembling of my hand, knuckles gleaming white as my fingers gripped the device hard enough to make the metal casing creak.

She was clawing into the scared ground below her, spine arching as though there was some hope of guarding against the agony rending through her chest, body writhing as she cried, unsteady movements slowly dragging her further and further from the burning mass of twisted durasteel.

I didn’t notice the writing begin to creep over the top of the image, barely registered that the video had been sped up. It didn’t feel like it. It felt like I was trapped in that moment; suffocating beneath the overwhelming scent of fuel weighing down the air, body locked in a panic between shivering against the unbearable cold and the memory of that terrible heat; the sound my skin had made as I’d crawled atop blistering metal, and the sickening absence of touch where I should have felt dirt and pebbles and grass. I remembered the way my body convulsed in fits of agonizing coughes from that cool air sweeping down my raw throat; the heavy taste of copper each one brought with it.

Between the disconnect separating my mind from any reliable sense of time and the way the footage seemed to fluctuate between too fast and too slow, I couldn’t begin to guess how long I’d been left like that, weight held precariously atop my forearms as I screamed and screamed and begged for someone to help me; to save her…

When those figures finally appeared from the distant tree line, I immediately recognized Commander Wolffe, his rifle trained carefully on the visage of my ruin. Barely a few seconds passed before General Koon gave a subtle signaled for him to stand down. Wolffe hesitated a moment but didn’t object when the cloaked figure approached me. I don’t think I was screaming anymore, body absently rocking in time to the still rapid flutter of my heart.

“Miss?” I didn’t remember this either. “Miss, I am Jedi Master Plo Koon. Can you tell me your name?” I knew there’d been some kind of conversation between us, but the details had been lost to me. Wolffe stepped protectively nearer as Koon carefully touched his hand to my shoulder. My head jerked only slightly at first, movements disjointed, before managing to look up at the Jedi’s masked face, and the madness-fueled hope in my eyes shone clearly through the grainy recording, mangled hands desperately reaching up for him.

“Pl-please! Please!” I begged. Koon didn’t shy from my blood-stained limbs, even reaching out with his own for me to cling on to. “Help-he… help her! Please! Please!” The way my hoarse voice shattered through my raw throat made even the Commander flinch. Koon glanced passed me to where the flames were finally beginning to fade before turning his attention back to me.

“I am sorry… there’s no one still alive in that ship.” Even then, I’d felt no doubt for the depth of his remorse, and something about that sincerity robbed me of even the taste of denial, head shaking weakly, begging him for something I knew he couldn’t give. For a long while, he said nothing more, merely let me hold onto him as I broke, body shaking amidst fresh sobs as every hope of happiness I’d had was ripped apart.

“What’s your name?” Only after those hiccupped, shuttered gasps began to quell did he press, voice gentle, calm in a way that give some fleeting quiet to my frenzied thoughts, granting me enough clarity to answer him. Hearing him repeat it in that same calm tone a moment later was a balm, eyes slipping closed as I merely existed in the echo of his words. “Why did you come here?” My lips moved without thought, without trepidation of the consequences for the secrets I freely told him.

“We’re medics… we… we help after… heal the ones left behind… find them passage home.”

“You help clones?” He clarified, a note of surprise just touching his voice, and I watched my head nod listlessly in answer. “Why?” He asked, lowering himself more as though he knew how his very presence seemed the only thing allowing me the strength to speak.

“I… I believe in them – in what they’re fighting for.” He was quiet a moment.

“Then why not leave? Defect from the Separatists and join the Republic?”

“Emmy.” Her name ripped another sob from me, but the words kept coming, “She couldn’t leave her family… So this… this was the only way we could help.” His hand shifted slightly against my shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, and, in that instant, I’d known they were the ones who shot us down, and not for even a fleeting second did I blame them. This was war. We’d known the dangers. “I’d like to help you now, if you’ll let us.” He murmured.

I remembered thinking over that offer for a long while, remembered knowing I could deny him, demand they leave me there; that I would die on that field… or, I could join them; fight for the cause Emmy had died for. The faint nod barely registered on the small screen, but Wolffe stepped forward a moment later. My skin prickled at the cry that tore from my lips as he hoisted me over his shoulder, rifle still held ready before he and the General walked out of sight.

There was no pause of static or flash of black before the image of the freshly crashed transport returned to the screen, and my eyes remained trained on the blurry picture with the same obsessive attentiveness as though I was watching it for the first time, yet I somehow failed to notice those callused fingers slide over mine, carefully loosening my grip until he could slowly pull the datapad away. Didn’t matter. I continued staring at the space that screen had been, no longer needing the footage for my mind to replay it all over and over and over

“Doc?”

“Emmy!” That first, broken shriek seemed to ripple through me, stomach finally seizing. I barely noticed my body convulse against the violent heaves, mind consumed by the distant shrieks still crying from those speakers. Vaguely, I realized someone turned it off or silenced it or threw the damn thing into the seemingly endless cavern stretching out below 79’s platform. Still, I didn’t need that recording to hear them. They’d been seared onto my consciousness, and I would never unhear them.

Some distorted rumble of an almost familiar voice sounded near me. I knew that voice… I knew… no… Emmy! Was someone touching me? Help-he… help her! The terrible memory of that night replaying in my mind sounded more real than the speech of whoever stood before me.

“We need to get her off the street.” Please! Please!

“There is an inn two clicks from here.” Emmy!

“Why’s she breathin’ like that?” I’m sorry.

“She’s in shock – potentially disassociating.” The scent of burning flesh.

“Five soldiers try to get in a cab with her like that, someone’s going to ask the wrong kind of questions.” The feeling of razors in my throat as I screamed.

“Well, we can’t stay here, Crosshair, so go with Echo and find us transport.” What’s your name?

“Tech, who the kriff did that come from?” The roar of flames and taste of fuel.

“I’m already tracing the connection, but it may take a few minutes.”

“Doc? Come on, Doc, try to come back.” Some fractured corner of my mind recognized the face leaning over me, felt their hands gently grasping my cheeks, but I couldn’t see them beyond the wall of twisted durasteel that I somehow needed to break through before the flames burned me alive.

“She don’t look so good.” Pl-Please!

“When you find who sent it”

“I’ll overclock their processors and short out their coolant systems. If there happens to be security measures in place for the door to their server rooms, I think that may also experience a spontaneous failure.”

“Wha’s that mean?” The terror in that split second before forcing my ruined ankle into the brace.

“He’s going to set their computers on fire.”

“Courtesy of Rex – I’ll owe him a pretty big apology next time I see him, but I doubt he’ll notice until after we’re long gone.” Those voices.

“Alright, Doc, I want you to walk with me, okay?” That touch slipped from my cheeks to wrap around my shoulders, and my body shivered violently against their warmth, legs dragging listlessly beneath me as some driving force eased me forward, and, for a moment, it wasn’t fuel I smelled. Some struggling corner of my mind remembered them, trusted them.

“I… I s…” His gentle, guiding movements froze the instant those stuttered attempts at speech fluttered from my lips.

“Doc?” My eyes wondered blindly over a face I so nearly recognized but couldn’t manage to grasp those thoughts long enough to be sure.

“I-I screamed.” I heard the wisps of words tumble from numb lips but couldn’t understand the sorrow that washed over his face. “I… I didn’t realize I… I screamed her name.”

“That was a long time ago.” He murmured, hands tightening where they held me firmly against his side.

“Do you… do you think sh-she heard me?” I think I recognized the way my name sounded in that smoky voice, briefly noting heartbreak in umber eyes before falling back into those flames.

“Doc-”

“Hunter.” A crisp voice interrupted him, and a moment later I belatedly realized he’d begun moving again, felt the hard plane of a chest plate pressed to my cheek.

“Watch your step.” That whispered murmur offered a comfort in its very tone, but the words held no meaning as we came to a stop. The sensation of floating should have been disorientating, but it was barely a thought as he moved an arm beneath my knees and gently lifted me to his chest before handing me off to someone else. And then it was dark again, the world moving around us in time to the hum of an engine.

“I have located the source but will need something stronger to bypass their firewalls.” Numb, I merely existed in the sound of those voices as someone held me, the strong scent of alcohol sharp enough to keep the memory of burnt skin at bay. Someone else wrapped chilled fingers through mine, and still another touch settled over my shoulder

“Park around back, Crosshair. Tech, if I get you access to one of the command centers on base, can you make it untraceable?”

“With Echo’s help, yes.” That grip tightened gently.

“Fryin’ some hunk of metal’s a kriffin’ joke. Where are they? I think we should make sure they ge’ the picture to leave’er alone.” I felt that voice rumble against my cheek.

“Given they are well behind Separatist lines, that is not a viable option; however, I can prevent any future attempts at contact.”

“Tech, you have the best chance at passing for a civi. Put this on and get us a room.” The world seemed to shift slightly, and I vaguely heard the sound of footsteps, the hiss of a door opening and closing, body too disorientated to even flinch at the brief flood of light.

“Echo, send Rex a message. I’d rather we tell him than have him report it stolen.” Those cool fingers started to pull away and some part of me panicked, grip tightening possessively, breath hitching. I didn’t notice the moment of silence, but when another hand touched mine, gently guiding my hold from that cool hand to his, I didn’t question it, again only distantly noting the brief flare of light.

“Doc? Can you look at me?” Something swept slowly along my thumb. The mass of warmth surrounding me shifted until a face came into some fleeting semblance of focus before me. “Hey.” I watched his lips move but couldn’t quite associate them with the quiet whisper of that deep voice. “You don’t need to say anything, but I want you to try to listen to me.” My brows drew weakly together, unsure if his voice was the memory, or if the calm rumble of Koon’s earnest apology was. “You trust us, right?” There’s no one still alive on that ship. Trust. What did he say?

My shoulder felt too cold, and I vaguely realized it was because he’d moved his hand back up to cup my cheek. My eyes blinked, almost surprised to see that face still staring at me when they opened again. For a moment, I didn’t feel the numb agony of burns, the sharp fire tearing through my ankle. Trust… yes. It may have been the only thing I could be certain of, but I knew I trusted him. The unsure movement shifting my head in a nod felt strange, muscles reluctantly remembering their own existence. His hand tightened around mine, briefly drawing my gaze to that contact before hesitantly returning to his face.

“Good.” He breathed, and I think I should have withdrawn from the attentiveness with which those eyes studied me, but, in that moment, I needed to be seen; needed him to see me to keep from vanishing back to that scarred meadow lit only by the dancing flames. “We’re taking care of it, alright? We’re not going to let a damn thing happen to you, so I want you to just take a breath. Do you understand?” He spoke slowly, quietly, as though talking to a frightened animal. That realization struck me seconds before the realization that no, I didn’t understand… I couldn’t…

My jaw shifted listlessly in a poor mimicry of speech but couldn’t manage more than turning my head into his hand in a silent ‘no’, gaze belatedly lingering on the rich tan of the nicked skin covering hard lines of tendons and muscle. His thumb swept over my cheek, touch easing my eyes back to him.

“That’s okay.” He promised. “Do you remember my name?” His… I should… I should know that… I knew his name. Confused panic stole the breath from my lungs, body rocking slightly as my teeth ground together. Why couldn’t I… Where was I? I didn’t hear him call my name, wide eyes darting around the small, dark room, head twisting back at the sudden realization that I was being held by someone, blind to the worry twisting through those kind eyes as frantic awareness jolted through my body, limbs jerking to life.

“Wai-wait, Doc, I wouldn’-”

“For kriff’s sake, Wrecker, let her go.” A third voice chided from further ahead. The instant I realized I was upright, my body surged from them, hands throwing open the door without any conscious understanding of its existence before tumbling to my knees the instant I was free of that dim room, stomach churning anew amidst the rush of turmoil and dread and confusion.

“Whoa! Hey-hey, easy.” How could that voice sound so calm when my heart felt like it was trying to rip itself free of my chest? He whispered my name with such gentle concern, I couldn’t bring myself to pull away when his hand carefully swept along my back. “Shh, you’re going to be alright, Doc.” Something about the knowing sympathy in that murmur consumed me, body straining to still seizing muscles if only to better hear him. “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but this will pass… I promise you; this will pass.”

He knew... of course he knew… because… I remembered… I remembered holding him through his own nightmares.

“Echo.” His name broke over my lips in a whimpered sob, and I felt the tension leave him in a slow sigh.

“I’m right here.” He whispered, shifting just a breadth closer to me. I didn’t realize I was crying until the sound of my own sobs seemed to drown out the distant hum of the city. That touch on my back offered only the faintest shift in a subtle invitation, and any hesitation fled me. In an instant, I turned into him, burying my face against his neck as I clung to him, and my heart shuttered at how quickly he locked his arms around me. “Alright… it’s alright, I’ve got you.” Those softly spoken words sent a chill down my spine as they fluttered through my hair.

“She was…” I gasped, hiding in his embrace as the wretched ruin my own voice shattered around me, “She was ri-right there! I le- I left her – how could I leave her?!”

“I know,” He murmured, and, in that moment, I loved him. I loved him for not telling me it wasn’t my fault. I loved him for not telling me there was nothing else I could have done. And I loved him for holding me regardless. “But, right now, you’re here. You’re with me and Hunter and Wrecker and Cross, and we’re damn glad for it.” Those words caught me off-guard, mind pausing to work over them for a long while before slowly pulling back to find those amber eyes, to see the truth in them.

“Tech got us a room. Think you can hold onto me for a minute?” He asked, voice only just loud enough for me to hear.

“I can… I can walk.” The feint of confidence wasn’t enough to fool either of us, but the drive to feel my feet beneath me, to move of my own volition balked at the thought of being carried again.

“Doc…” I didn’t give him the chance to argue, trembling legs already straining to remember how to stand. He quickly shifted to pull my arm over his shoulders and slowly eased us both upright. I had to cling to him more than I anticipated, body swaying violently for several seconds before regaining any semblance of stability. He waited patiently until I took that first step and carefully matched his strides with mine, guiding us toward an open doorway.

Those few steps helped shed that lingering sense of displacement, and the clarity that granted threatened me with a far more desperate fear. We’d barely stepped into the room when the very real threat of what I’d seen sent my heart racing.

“Wait…” I could taste the horror dripping from that single word, barely seeing Echo’s attention dart back to me. “W… where… who sent that video? H-How…” The frenzy of everything that footage implicated washed over me in a flood of panic.

“Easy, Doc; we’re already-” Hunter’s reassuring words fell on deaf ears.

“Wh-where’s my… my datapad-where-” Eyes darting around the room, I only vaguely noticed Tech before pushing forward to try to wrench it from his hands, but Echo held me back, quickly stepping between his brother and me.

“Doc, listen to me: there’s nothing on that datapad that you need to see.” He said, voice just hinting at that commanding power of an arc trooper.

“Get out of my way, Echo, and give me my kriffing datapad.” I growled sharply. Writing. There was writing at one point, right? Scrolling along the top of the screen? I tread quickly around Echo, eyes locked on Tech. He glanced uncertainly passed me, and I didn’t have to look to know he’d sought Hunter’s orders before allowing me to pull the device from his hands.

Painfully aware of the attentive stares of the five men crowded into the small room, I forced my attention to the screen; and then it was all I could see. The video was frozen in the moment after that first scream. Instantly, that tremble stole back through me, hand shaking violently mere inches from that nauseating image, muscles refusing to move even enough for the brief tap needed to play it.

“The sender included a ransom note.” I don’t think I’d ever heard Tech’s voice drop into such a gentle whisper, gaze darting to his with a silent, desperate plea. Tell me. Tell me everything so that I didn’t have to live through that nightmare all over again. “They’ve demanded an extravagant sum of credits in exchange for the original footage, and threatened to turn it in to the jedi counsel should you refuse.” My eyes went wide, face falling slack. Tech easily caught the datapad as it slipped from suddenly limp fingers.

“General…General Koon… I h-I have to warn… Wolffe…” I couldn’t hear the terror in my own voice, guilt tearing through my chest. “They’ll… Wolffe – they’ll decommission him for this!” It wasn’t until Hunter shouted my name, hands clasped tight around my shoulders that I even realized he’d been speaking.

“Breathe.” The word left his lips in a measured, firm order, but I could see the concern darkening those eyes. Blinking back the threat of tears, I vaguely realized my chest was fluttering with those shallow, rapid gasps that offered little more than a fleeting taste of air. His hold softened slightly, and his shoulders began to lift in a slow, deep inhale. Jaw tensing, I struggled to follow his lead despite the way my breath shook with each violent shiver, still, the attempt alone was enough to grant him some sliver of relief.

“Tech already traced it.” He explained in that practiced calm of a hardened soldier, and I found myself hanging onto his every word. “He and Echo are going to find every copy of that video, wipe them from the holonet, and fry every computer it’s ever touched, and we’re going to make sure whoever sent it to you is too afraid of us to ever touch a datapad again.” His thumbs shifted gently over my arms, eyes locked pointedly on mine. “No one is ever going to find out about this.” My diaphragm jerked against the tears clawing up my throat at the words still trying to find voice atop my tongue.

“If it doesn’t work,” I started, but his lips parted to interrupt me. “If it doesn’t work,” I said again, louder, leaving no room for him to object, “You have to promise me… all of you… promise me you won’t go down with me.” I demanded, looking to each of them in turn, loathing the way they balked at my words. “If anyone finds out where I’m from… I’ll-” I couldn’t bite back the sob the very threat of those words tore through me, tears finally slipping from my eyes, but I forced myself to continue, “I’ll be removed from the GAR, probably imprisoned…” I stole a quick breath in the vain hope that it might offer some measure of stillness, but my voice shattered over my next words, “but you… what they’d do to you if they found out…” Again, I let my gaze shift over each of their faces.

Hunter’s hands whispered gently over my cheeks, thumbs absently wiping at the lines of tears as his tall form curled around me. He didn’t say anything for a long while, eyes burring into mine as his jaw worked silently over words he couldn’t seem to settle on.

“If it doesn’t work,” he finally started, only just breathing the words, “I promise you, we’ll figure something out.” A broken scowl twisted over my mouth, but, before I could say anything, he gently touched a thumb to my lips. “You and me, and these di’kuts… we’ll figure something out… but don’t you dare ask us to give up on you… and don’t you dare give up on us.” The fierce determination in those eyes robbed me of any will to argue, strength abandoning me with a suddenness that left me staggering.

Without another word, he pulled me harshly against him, chest swelling with a carefully controlled breath. Instantly, I wilted into his touch, unable even to lift my arms to return that crushing embrace, face hiding against the crook of his neck as I wept, overwhelmed by the fear and guilt and exhaustion. His hand swept up my back, my neck, fingers tangling into my hair. I could feel the steady power of his heartbeat thrumming up his throat, let myself be mesmerized by the calm cadence of his breaths as I tried to believe him, tried to remember the depth of my trust for each of these amazing men.

“Rex is here.” Echo’s whisper held a visceral regret in the simple necessity of being spoken aloud, and Hunter let out a deep sigh.

“Alright. Cross, Wrecker, stay here – no one comes through that door but us. You two, with me.” He continued speaking with that gentleness as he turned his attention down to me. “Is it alright if Wrecker holds onto you for a while?” He asked quietly. I tried not to think about why he’d felt the need to ask, unwilling to even pretend I didn’t need this form of comfort in that moment as my head simply nodded. Still, he didn’t release me until Wrecker’s massive hands slipped around my still shaking form, and I turned into the towering man without hesitation as he enveloped me in those powerful arms.

“We’ll be back as soon as we can, but it might be a while.” I didn’t need to look at him to know he was talking to Crosshair, and, without another word, he, Echo and Tech were gone.

“Couldn’t give two kriffs where they are…” It wasn’t a full minute before the quietly growled words rumbled through his chest. “Wish Tech would just tell who they are… I’d make sure they’d never even think about threatening you again.” The anger storming through him was heartbreaking in itself. I treasured the brilliant glee that usually lit up his voice. Knowing I was the reason he was so filled with fury…

“Wrecker.” There was a quiet warning in Crosshair’s voice.

“I know you lot don’t think I can be stealthy, but this’d be worth it! In-an’-out quiet an’ fast; then we wouldn’t even have worry about”

“Wrecker!” The sniper hissed. Belatedly realizing the effect his words had on me, Wrecker’s shoulders sank, arms softening into something almost tentative.

“Sorry.” He whispered, and I broke anew, teeth burring into my lips to stifle the sobs at the guilt for his own remorse. A quick sigh sounded behind us. I didn’t hear his footsteps, but, when those elegant hands pulled me away from Wrecker’s hesitant embrace, I wasn’t surprised to see those harsh eyes studying me.

“They’ve got a shower here, Wrecker. Use it and sober up.” I wanted to say something, to promise Wrecker that he’d done nothing wrong; that I adored him and knew he only wanted to protect me, but, when Crosshair silently pulled me against his chest, I was too taken aback to speak. Wrecker paused for only a moment longer before reluctantly walking away.

“Come on.” It was an order, but there was a foreign softness to his voice that I couldn’t begin to fight, limbs automatically moving to follow him as he guided me across the room to a worn bed. Only then did I realize he’d already stripped his upper body of armor; felt the heat radiating from the broad muscles of his chest. He didn’t bother kicking off his boots though, holding me firmly against him with one arm while absently shifting the pillows with the other before turning to sit atop the edge of the mattress, easily pulling me with him and, mere seconds later, he was reclining leisurely against the wedge of padding, an almost bored expression staring blindly toward the ceiling as he held me casually against him, one leg cocked at my hip as I hid comfortably atop his chest.

“This alright?” I barely heard the whispered words. He didn’t move, eyes still locked on some invisible point beyond the stained paneling above us. I nodded, watching as my hand flared over the soft fabric beneath my cheek. “I think you insulted Tech.” He mumbled, but there was a subtle note of humor in his voice that eased a nearly silent laugh from me before the reasoning behind my doubt crept back in – not in the brilliant man’s capabilities but from the mere weight of the consequences should he fail.

“I ca-I can’t lose you,” I whispered on trembling breaths, fingers shifting to cling to that sleek material, “any of you.”

“We’re soldiers,” He hummed bluntly, but my head jerked so sharply in a silent ‘no’ that whatever else he was going to say was bit back in the absent churning of his jaw. Letting out another sigh, he merely relaxed beneath me, eyes sliding shut.

I couldn’t seem to draw my attention away from the slow dance of this powerful heartbeat against my cheek, from the gentle ebb and flow of his chest swelling beneath me. He was perfectly still at first, arms merely resting around my back, but, as the seconds ticked by, his hand began shifting absently against my shoulder, fingers slipped along the my ribs, his head tucked down to just brush his jaw against my hair; only brief, thoughtless movements, then falling still again for several seconds before allowing himself another stolen touch, and how could I feel anything but safe amidst the silent promises whispered in those fleeting moments?

The chorus of deep, leisurely breaths gave the air a comforting weight. The simple proximity and peace in those unhurried sighs and occasional listless shuffle of a limb spoke of absolute safety in the simple ease of their existence. My eyes parted just enough to see the soft light filling the small, derelict room, and my heart jumped at the sight before me.

Hunter lay tucked along the very edge of the bed, one arm folded beneath his head while the other had reached out to grasp my hand in his. Echo was beneath him, one knee hiked up at the very bottom corner of the bed while the other had fallen over the edge at some point, head pillowed atop one of my thighs. Tech was curled against my legs on my other side, arm draped over me for his hand to rest absently on my hip. I could only just see Wrecker’s legs stretching out behind him. And beneath me… Crosshair.

In perfect silence, he brought a finger to his lips, gaze shifting lazily over the sleeping forms of his brothers sprawled out around us. I followed his gaze for a moment before turning back to him with a small nod. He returned gesture, chest swelling beneath a deep breath, the movement gently rocking me against him, and he settled back into the nest of pillows as though it was the most natural thing in the world. I found myself hesitating barely a second longer before letting the tension slip away from me once more, melting into his warmth and that powerful, slow dance of his heartbeat against my cheek. When his hand shifted to sweep tentatively through my hair, I let out a deep sigh, nuzzling subtly into him with a love and gratitude I knew I’d never be able to speak aloud.

Fanart!! - by @mythical-illustrator

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Taglist: @arctrooper69

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blimbo-buddy · 4 months

Note

Consider this

Analog Horror Warrior Cats but nothing changes. It's just everything played straight and everything happening.

Scourge killing Tigerstar in a The Walten Files or Harmony and Horror style implication and not outright shown. Just the aftermath.

the implied pain of gaining nine lives.

The seizures of healers.

The horrible deaths of Gorsepaw and Swiftpaw.

Snowkit's death or Snowfur's.

I worked on a little bit of Swiftpaw's death but Analog Horror found footage style before I freakin' deleted all of it in sheer embarrassment and regret it because I know I could've made it work somehow but oh well lol

If you asked me this when Mandela Catalogue first came out and really sent the Analog Horror genre skyrocketing into popularity I would have instantly wanted this. Unfortunately I think that the entire scene of Analogue series has.. dulled down a lot.

I still get some good jumps but something about it doesn't feel genuine anymore. And with so many series getting Analogue Horror series made about them, the entire thing feels unoriginal at this point.

I do think you have an interesting idea though with simply just the aftermath of everything, like with a huge censor bar over it

I'm just bummed out I'm not so excited over analog horror series anymore, or even just vhs animations like what we got with those vhs warrior cats animations. I think though that in the warrior cats fandom, horror isn't really utilized in the way that it could be used. What many think is horror is just blood or gore but I'd actually like to see some genuinely scary stuff, not just covered in blood and ripping the warriors characters apart into bloody pulps, y'know. I think the fact that these are cats is what can hold them back from being portrayed in a scary manner but I think if we all just pull a Smile.jpg and make the cats unrecognizable from a cat then it could maybe work

#blimbo rambles #ask #wc

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whumpasaurus101 · 1 year

Note

*takes u out of my pocket*

my most talented son!! 🥰🥰💖

do you have any shock collar content for asher 👀

EEEEEE *INTENSE HAPPY FLAPPY HANDSSSSSS*

Okay ik ive been texting you loads abt how much i hate this and what not BUT ONCE AGAIN, IM SO GRRRRR CAUSE I WISH I DID A BETTER JOB IM SORRY- i acc havent really written much shock collar so i feel like maybe i can write it a lot better HUIKJDHKDH but someday i wanna do party time part 2 and have more shock collar content in that >:3

masterlist

CW: shock collar / cursing / 'mutt' used as a name

---

“Let me go!!!!” Asher growled, fighting off the men who were holding him. They shoved him onto the floor in front of Antonio’s desk, who stood from his seat, taking off his glasses with a heavy breath, “Boys?”

“Sorry for disturbing you boss,” One of the workers sighed, almost out of breath from how much effort it took holding back Asher, “But this little shit was trying to cause trouble with a newbie.” The worker emphasized his sentence, kicking Asher hard in the ribs.

Antonio had run this boxing gym for a while now. He has dealt with all kinds of fighters. The broken, scared, defiant, confident, weak, strong, you name it. But Asher? Asher, quite frankly, made Antonio want to quite frankly beat the ever loving shit out of him. Antonio sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly before nodding, “Leave it with me, thank you boys.” And with that, the group of trainers walked back to the training gym, out of Antonio’s office.

“I didn't do shit,” Asher growled, rubbing his side while practically pouting like a child. “I highly doubt that. I can always pull up the CCTV security footage if you’d like.” Asher froze and shook his head quickly, only making Antonio chuckle, bending over slightly and tilting Asher’s head up by a finger under his chin, “You never learn, do you?”

Asher growled, ripping his face away from Antonio, “Don't fucking touch m-” He was quickly cut off as Antonio grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head so he was face to face with Antonio, “Listen here, you little shit. I am sick and tired of putting up with your bullshit every fucking day-”

“…technically it's not e-every d-”

“Silence.” Asher was backhanded hard and a small whimper escaped his lips before he tried to cover it up with a growl, but just Antonio chuckled, walking over to his desk and opening a drawer, “Do you remember that day I used the taser on you?”

Asher instantly paled, gulping and shifting anxiously, “Oh o-of course. How could I ever forget such a wonderful day. You know what, you and I have the most amazing time tog-”

*click*

Asher immediately looked up to Antonio, “Wha-what the fuck-” His hands flew up to his neck, desperately trying to pull at whatever had been latched around his neck. “Hm, what’s the matter, little pup?” Asher growled, rushing up to his feet as he clenched his fists, “Don't you dare call me that.”

Antonio smirked and chuckled, “Ohhhh, you will want to watch your mouth from now on.” Asher’s eyes turned cold and he stepped right up to Antonio’s face, jutting out his chin in defiance, “And why’s that?”

Antonio’s eyes practically sparkled as he took out a controller, simply pressing a button and watching the show happen before him.

Asher’s eyes went wide as his whole body seized up and with a cry as his knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground. His arms flew up to his neck, desperately pulling at the shock collar as much as he could, “SH-SH’T- Tu-turn ‘t o-o-’ff-ff-” His whole torso and back seized up, twitching and beginning to shake. Antonio chuckled, bending down to his hunkers and brushing a hair away from Asher’s face, “Beg me, dear.”

Asher growled, snarling as he grit his teeth, “Like sh-sh-i-it I will.” Antonio smirked, “Suit yourself,” And with that, Antonio stood up and sat at his desk, starting to fill in paper work he had been procrastinating for weeks.

Asher slammed his fist against the floor, trying to get Antonio’s attention. His body was on fire. His lungs felt as if lightning struck through them. “Th’s ‘s b-BULL,” He bellowed with another punch to the ground. Antonio just chuckled, spinning his pen with his finger absentmindedly, “You know what I want, Asher.”

“Wh-wh’t you want, n-nah, bu-bu’ wha-whatchya ne-...nee-d is a li- FUCK- a li-fffff-fffe.”

Antonio simply hummed, his fingers twisting up the dial to the control, smirking as a scream ripped from Asher’s throat. “I must admit, I’m impressed at your pain tolerance,” Antonio chuckled, “I mean, managing to keep that annoying act up while being shocked at nearly the highest setting. I'm… almost… surprised…to be honest!”

Asher’s body twitched with a grunt, “Th-th’nks alo-ot, asshole.” Antonio studied him for a moment more before switching off the collar, watching with a smirk as Asher’s back slumped to the floor, his body aching as he tried to catch his breath. Asher cursed under his breath as his body occasionally twitched, glossy eyes staring at the ceiling, “Ge-get it ‘ff…”

“I told you what I wanted, dear, and you haven't given that to me. So, shall we continue, or are you willing to beg?”

Asher clenched his jaw before bringing his eyes up to meet Antonio’s, “Bri-bring it, bitch.” Antonio scoffed, rolled his eyes before turning the dial full. Asher screamed this time, his whole body completely seizing as his head hit the floor, heels digging into the carpet of the office, his back arching in pain, “Sh-sh’t, pl…”

“I'm sorry, speak up darling, I didn't quite hear you,” Antonio pressed, knowing how close Asher was to breaking. He watched as Asher’s face screwed up, what the fuck was he to do??? He wanted the pain to end more than anything but there was no way in fuck that he was about to beg to Antonio.

Suddenly the shock stopped as there was a knock on the door. Antonio slammed his fist against the desk, “What is it,” He growled, “Nobody is to come in while I’m work-”

“My sincere apologies.”

Asher froze at the familiar voice. Fucking Rodger.

“Heard my boy was causing trouble.”

Antonio scoffed, “When is he not?” That made Rodger chuckled, “Mind if I sit in?” Antonio gestured to the seat where Asher lay near, “Take a seat! I'm not letting Asher leave until he begs- but… you might wanna get comfy, god knows how long he’ll take.”

“Well, Asher, “ Rodger chuckled, delivering as hard of a kick as he could to Asher’s ribs. Asher groaned, his hand flying to clutch at his ribs with a groan, “F’ck o-o-’ff…” Rodger laughed, looking up at Antonio, “You really think he’s going to break???”

Antonio simply shrugged, “Worth a try though! Want a go?” Rodger quickly extended his hand, “Oh, you fucking bet.” The second the control was put into his hand, Rodger instantly turned the dial.

“FU-FUCK- Stopstop-st- SHIT- stop-”

“Not the words I’m looking for, Ashy boi.”

Asher snarled, his top lip curling up, “D-dn’t call me tha-thah-” “I think that's the least of your worries right now,” Rodger scoffed, resting his feet up on top of Antonio’s desk, ignoring Antonio’s disapproving look.

Asher’s eyes fluttered as his head suddenly felt dangerously light, “Sh-sh’t…” Antonio gulped, his eyes snapping over to Rodger, “He-hey uh, take it easy on him, he looks like he’s about to pass out.” Rodger simply waved his hand dismissively, “Oh please, he’s just being a dramatic little shit.”

“Mmhnn-” Was all Asher managed before his eyes rolled up to his head, and his body fell still. Silence.

“Dramatic?”

“I can hear you smirking.”

“You know, you can always leave the mutt with me for a week or two, I’d bet I could have him broken in that amount of time.”

Rodger laughed, shaking his head, “Funny. Hilarious. But I might take you up on that offer, I could do with a break from the idiot.”

“Sounds like a deal, you just hit me up and I’ll be there.”

“Deal. Now, help me carry him to the car, will ya?”

---

THANKIE SM FOR READINGGGGG 💜💜💜

Taglist: @likeit-or-whumpit @milk-carton-whump @yesthisiswhump @appy-polly-loggies @happy-whumper @hold-back-on-the-comfort @tears-and-lilies @heathenwhump @whumpkinpie @happy-little-sadist @shywhumpauthor @cursedscribbles @whump-queen

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allw3doisadvert1se · 1 month

Text

The Reaches of Psyche

…

It’s hard to describe all the things I saw over the last few cycles of us trying to bring Amanda and her Tasque out of the asylum, but it’s my duty to keep my friends informed, so I’ll try my best.

Let me set the stage: grimy, half-destroyed hallways and rooms repeating in fractals inward, outward, inside out, outside in … and everything just had this horrible stench. Rotting blood, mildewed carpets, desiccated remains … but the smell was nothing compared to the sounds that rang through the halls in an almost constant drone. The screams of those within the offices. All around the asylum were these, well, doctors and nurses I guess. But nothing about these things implied any sort of caring nature and the willingness to help others. No, these skinless beings with features just long enough to be uncanny only sought to perform vile experiments on the poor souls trapped within the walls. They were not initially hostile to us, at least not at first, simply giggling darkly whenever we would pass by. But this would change later on.

The more rooms we explored, the more experiments we oversaw, the more the patients screamed at us to do something, they became more and more aggressive. We witnessed a pair of werewires being painfully soldered together and bent into some unholy effigy. I pray their torment was over swiftly, but given how precise all of the staff members were here, I don’t think they had such luck. We also overheard another group of patients in a locked room being forcefully reprogrammed via a series of tapes. When the music would swell, we heard the horrible noises of them ripping each other apart before the chorus would reach an end and they would scream at the sight of each other. I could swear I heard one of the doctors humming that tune gleefully while that was happening …

Worst of all was what happened to Amanda. By this point, from what Swatch, Spamton, and I saw, none of us were discussing things anymore on our walks down the halls. Additionally, the staff members were now actively trying to get at us, trying to subtly poke us with sinister looking syringes, or simply attacking us on sight with rusty surgery equipment. None of them were particularly dangerous, at least not alone, but they weren’t supposed to be fighters in the first place. Anyway, after what was probably hours of searching, we came across the room where Amanda was being experimented on. When we went inside, there was no gruesome sight per se, rather just a horrible grim situation. Amanda was strapped to a table, her eyes stitched open as a sort of modified projector beamed a repeating scene directly into her eyes. When we had gone over to the nearby console to turn the device off, we unfortunately had to witness what footage they were showing her.

Amanda was experiencing the psychological torment of watching the creation process of every single Vessel Unit we’ve ever created in the CIFT. Lightners, both monsters and humans of all walks of life systematically ripped apart and their souls placed into biological stasis capsules, where they would remain until The Founder was overthrown. After she had witnessed this assembly line of torment for multiple cycles, she was broken. She didn’t even acknowledge the presence of any of us until we had turned the machine off, and even then her words were a rambling mess. She kept mumbling, “Brothers and sisters, all of them.” “I damned them. We damned them.” “What have I done? What have I allowed to be done?” In a way, I feel for her. But unlike her, I don’t have that same empathetic connection to the Lightners we had brought this fate upon. She, being a human, would not have that level of disconnection the rest of us used as a protective defense mechanism.

Her Tasque Rodney had been simply locked in a cage in the corner of the room, and it was clear he was stuck in a loop of starving to death and appearing back in the cage upon the start of a new cycle. With the help of Spamton using the NEO-MK2 suit, we managed to break it open, and the presence of her feline friend did certainly help calm Amanda’s nerves even a little bit. Unfortunately, removing Amanda from her torment was akin to triggering an alarm. Staff members were flooding into the room now, and we had to push our way out. We made a mad dash back through the rancid halls, the walls seeming to spin and spiral the further we would go. It’s as if the building itself was trying to eat us alive, its architecture bending into shapes unfit for travel. Luckily, for every bottomless pit, Spamton was able to just throw us over.

Our path back to the exit was basically just random searching, as at this point the building had shifted so much it was impossible to tell up from down, much less left from right. As we were running and fighting, the droning screams had sort of faded into the background as the torrential noise of the staff members singing in unison filled our ears like an invasive swarm.

🎵 “Why do you run, dear friend?”

“Why do you fumble through the daaark?”

“Why do you hide away when there’s no safe place to stay?”

“Why does fear brew in your heeaaart?” 🎶

By the blade, I never want to hear that rancid melody ever again. That aside, it felt like we were doomed to just keep getting lost again and again. Then … something changed. We turned a corner to head down another hallway, when the area in front of us suddenly changed. Everything was far more open now, and a dense fog filled the path ahead. Deep in the distance was a bright light that called us forward. Nothing in The Simulacrum should be taken as a good thing, but in this moment of pure desperation, I led us towards the light. I didn’t care, I just wanted to get out of this awful place.

We cut through the fog, and with only a few more minutes of running, we found an open door which gave us a glimpse of the outside. We were free … or rather out of the cage within a cage. The long walk back to the abandoned bank we had established as a home base previously was mostly us just trying to console Amanda, as she was still crying over what she endured. It might take a few cycles for her to get back to thinking straight, but until then, we needed only to find the location of Marcus. He was the last of the Administrators we knew of inside The Simulacrum, and it seemed to us like A.B.Y.S.S was personally trying to keep us away from each other.

No matter what he throws at us, he made the mistake of giving us an infinite amount of tries to get it done. It feels odd to find comfort in the painful existence of repeated death in this way, but nothing here is regular anyways …

Note to self: Record information on Haedopelagic Homonculi for a future log. These void doctors, while weaker than most void entities we’ve come across so far, possess a level of awareness and knowledge that seems to be a rarity in the void.

-Everest

#deltarune #deltarune au #creative writing #the cift #a.b.y.s.s takeover #everest #amanda highmoore #spamton #swatch

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picnokinesis · 9 months

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Taka!! Hello!! I saw you have watched Wolf and I’m curious about your thoughts on it ?! I loved it so much tbh, cause I started watching it for Sacha but I ended up finding the plot and the rest of the characters rly compelling too :D

SKSKSK harsh cut to footage of me specifically reblogging wolf posts from your blog to coax you into my askbox as an internet version of Molina's homemade deer trap -

BUT YES HELLO oh my days it was so much fun, right? I also definitely started watching it for sacha, and - okay well, let's put all the spoilers under the cut

SKSKS so. Came for Sacha. Stayed for Sacha.......and then watched the last 30 minutes because I wanted to know the answers (SKSK BUT ALSO his...CORPSE was on the floor in all the important scenes so y'know! He was still there in spirit)

But MAN wow did sacha and iwan steal the show, right?? They were absolutely AMAZING! Absolutely killing it, made me crack up multiple times they were just...literally the best duo. And man the twist at the end of episode five just GRABBED ME because wow, I really should have seen it coming and it was the best kind of twist where it suddenly made everything Molina had been doing make sense. And like - man, I'm just in awe of Sacha's acting, yknow? The guy acted his SOCKS off in this, like right from the first episode, you know that scene where they reveal that he is. not in fact a police officer SKKSKS but it's like the spyfall reveal, right? the mask drop. only, unlike in spyfall, this isn't sudden - it's a slow ramp-up of something being very wrong with this guy, gradually becoming more and more unhinged, and Sacha just NAILED it. Absolutely phenomenal. And then the way they just added so much DEPTH to his character augh, I wanted him to get out of the whole thing SO BAD even though I knew it was super unlikely. But augh by episode 5 he was SO nervous and paranoid, and then he just spent the first half of episode 6 just.....so palpably terrified?? Augh. Love him. So sad he got stabbed in the neck rip but he made up for it by having the most incredible dialogue with molina for five episodes straight skskks (i'm still losing it over 'you're not going to shower?? ....you handled intenstines today' SKSKSKSK like. ok real talk when I first saw the trailer for wolf I immediately came up with au6, yet another campervan au, which I will probably do not much with but SKSKKS the vibes were there in the series and it was a DELIGHT)

With regards to the rest of the story, it was super interesting, right? I feel like you possibly enjoyed it slightly more than I did (I was like. semi-frequently getting extremely annoyed at the random sexual content that seemed wildly tonally dissonant 80% of the time - I was SO SALTY that Sacha's opera lipsynch of our dreams with a SWORD was intercut with. that. and then also Jack's tendency to just like. physically assault people as a method of questioning like BOY that is. that is a CRIME sir. I know you're desperate for justice but do not boyo. But that's kind of a recurring pet peeve I have with crime shows as a rule sksksk). That said though - I did REALLY love Jack, and guh the stuff with his neighbour was SO creepy (LIKE THOSE WEREN'T NIGHTMARES??? HELLO???????) and maaaaaaaaan the stuff with the donkey pitch was so messed up and creepy. It was really good though. I did feel a bit like...'eh' on the end reveal about who the Donkey Pitch murderers were - that was probably in part because Honey had just died RIP but also hmmm idk, like obviously Molina was one of them, but I feel like I kinda wanted more on who Molina actually WAS, other than just some person Lucia knew from when she was in psychiatric care? Like my running theory the whole time had been that he was actually Theo, Hugo's older brother, simply because he looked a heck of a lot like Hugo skksks and it had just been an interesting throw-away line from Hugo's dad that didn't really go anywhere. I think also the twist with Lucia rang a bit hollow to me simply because the twist with Molina had been SO satisfying because it made all these little weird things make sense and I felt like I SHOULD have known (especially after honey and matilda's scene where they talk about letting people think they're more stupid than they are), but with Lucia (at least, for me personally) it felt a bit more out of the blue. But it was good, don't get me wrong - the stuff with her, hugo and sophie made a lot of sense and maaaaaaaaan that was so dark. And then I REALLY loved the ending for Jack, like the decision to not reveal what actually happened at the donkey pitch, and him finding out that stuff about his brother and then burning the treehouse and FINALLY getting some control back over the whole thing.........BUT THEN INTERCUT WITH THE REVEAL THAT HIS BROTHER HAD BEEN ALIVE?????? LIKE????????? AHHH??? That was SO well done.

Anyway. Show good. I enjoyed. There was actually a lot of things narratively and thematically that I particularly enjoyed - like even though the two storylines felt quite disparate at times, there were so many things connecting them or echoing between them! Off the top of my head, it's things like the idea of people being in your house and doing stuff when you're asleep - like with Penderecki but also how Molina and Lucia did that too with Sophie and Hugo. And then how like, Matilda tries to break that bathroom mirror to escape, and then Jack and Lincoln are escaping in a, uh. Different way and they DO break a bathroom mirror. Stuff like that. There were definitely more than that but I can't remember them right now, but it was like....idk the way that they echoed between each other gave it an internal resonance which made it very satisfying to watch (and is actually the same technique I've tried to use in campervan part 6, which is possibly why it appealed to me so much!). I also really liked the repeated use of mirrors and mirror shots - I feel like that was trying to say something too but I haven't quite untangled it yet. But yeah! Fun times.

#taka replies #bbc wolf #praxeus-13 #lots of thoughts

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katnissgirlsmakedo · 6 months

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does anyone think i can actually finish organizing this footage tonight. i don't think we're gonna meet to start editing until tuesday so i probably have more time. but woah this is tedius and grueling. but someone has to do it and i'm a control freak so who else was it gonna be.... anyway this scene i'm about to start looking at is going to look soooooo shitty and i know for a fact there's not a smidge of audio recorded here. it's a small flashback we didn't record audio because we won't need it but the actors were ad libbing up a storm for this scene and i wish we'd recorded it just for that.... for bloopers.... for behind the scenes.... we have not done a good job recoding anything behind the scenes btw. we tried to take some pictures and videos last night but that's it. i hindsight i wish we had done that more just so we could make a cute blooper reel <3 oh i guess last night they did get me having to call cut because i started laughing uncontrollably at our actors knees cracking when we made him kneel for the scene. i wasn't laughing at him i was laughing because in that instance it reminded me of the first instance it happened when i had headphones on and i thought the sound of his knee cracking was something falling on the floor and the reveal that it was him was simply the funniest shit i'd ever heard in my life. it was also about midnight at that point so it was definitely funnier due to that. anyway yeah we did not slay on the bts footage front.... rip. you know what movie had an excellent blooper reel. the kissing booth franchise..... literally the kissing booth movies blooper reels are so fun i think joey king should get an oscar for her work there. this post has fully lost the plot. i'm gonna end it now ok bye xoxo

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thequeencity · 5 months

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Do you have a link that shows the end of game hugs? Or can you please gif Ryan and Chris (if there was a hug)?

unfortunately they didn't really show the hug line on the official msg broadcast ( or at least not on my stream ). i got the chris & mika hug off the msg twitter !! so likely the footage exists, we simply just do not have it rip.

#;; answered

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totemsp2blog · 1 year

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Creating an hour feature (a post-mortem)

youtube

I just got done creating (mere seconds shy of) an hour of film from a night I played Halo 3 with some friends. I may have spent a little too much time and effort on it… and may have gone too far in some places.

But to be honest, I had the enthusiasm of my friends backing me the entire time I was working on it. As a result, I was able to produce, with the help of my friends, a work pretty up there in terms of personal video editing projects go.

At this point, it’s important to speak of the talents, and qualities that these people brought to this project. A project which served be simply edited footage of us goofin’ in video games, nevertheless…

NoTengoTortuga, is a 3D artist and Blender Guru, and was responsible for creating the CGI poses of our Spartans for most of the chapter cards between missions (I said Spartans… no that’s not an elite, that’s the actual Master chief!) Tortuga, or Joe as we call him, currently uses said skills professionally, but out of love of the craft, he contributed his skills, and has literally crafted stuff out of dreams I had for the project, Including the amazing Rainbow Six Siege inspired chapter card, and the ‘Warframe tableau inspired’ end scene. It’s more than I ever could’ve asked for, which what I’m saying is everything I did ask for, he delivered on, and more. There wouldn’t have been images for the chapter cards, he just stepped up and started making them.

AstroCorgi, or Goatz_ballz, or SpaceManMike? I’ll just call him Mike like we all do. Mike’s contributions to the project were important for a simple reason: he noticed things that I didn’t. He was the one to spot things in the background of otherwise uninteresting scenes, such as the two’s warthog jumping off a ledge, or a grunt t-posing off their ghost upon getting smashed into… by the two’s warthog. And so, his input and attention to detail added a lot to the project.

So, with the help of the people interested in this funny Halo 3 game film of all of us playing, this undoubtedly turned into a group project. It also emboldened us to add to it, and in turn, take the ambition way up. It was a good thing… but as Strong Bad once said, too much of a good thing is an awesome thing, but too much of an awesome thing is holy crapazoli or something… I’m sure he said that once I dunno…

I would like to explain my state of mind during this project.

I’m about to speak a little bit more seriously about things, I hope you don’t mind.

I am someone currently feeling like a prisoner in my own body. Yes that sounds pretty serious but let me explain. I have dreams and aspirations, and the means and knowledge to carry them out. I could realistically learn everything my associates that worked with me on this know, and as I’ll get into later, out of an apparent need to help their load, I did try to in order to help their load. But, I have a severe, and inconsistent lack of energy to do… a lot more than I want to. I’m in a place right now where… everything feels like a lot, even if there isn’t a lot going on in my life right now.

I ended last year in possibly the worst place I’ve ever been mentally. The details are too personal for this fairly personal blog, and I feel like I’m firmly in the depression stage of grief.

Simply put, I’ve been pretty down, and tired, burnt out.

Where this ties into the project is that I did what was absolutely best for me, and went at my own pace, which was nice and glacial. And I will admit, when I’m in it, It can be pretty comfy trimming film, and when I get an idea for something cool, it’s fun to act on it, and I acted on a lot… but the thing is, I had to act on it, otherwise I don’t know if I’d ever get it done… which has been a thing long before… what happened last year.

And then my cool Blender friend Joe stepped up and decided to pull these rips of the Halo 3 MCC Spartans from The Halo Archive and make poses for the chapters.

So now on top of my (and Mike’s) attention to detail, coupled with my knowledge of what could be possible in video production, we now had access to full 3D CGI assets. Absolutely mental.

But it also meant… I had to call upon people to help get stuff done. My fatal weakness! Something I’ve delt with all my life.

It just comes down to my ability to… social… and I don’t doubt those who have known me have come to understand this. But what I fail to understand and was literally stated to me is Joe loves doing this shit. It would be like somebody coming to me asking for a… uhh…

Uh…

A thing… that… I would like to make? PowerPoint Cartoon? An edit of someone’s funny game footage? Their Dinner? A gman impression?

Anyway, that didn’t stop me from chronically worrying about bothering anyone for anything. But I did rise above that eventually and boy was it worth it. I thought that Rainbow Six Siege inspired image was going to be tough but somehow, he pulled it off to my exact specifications. Huh… like, huh… yeah? Who knew someone good at their shit was going to give me a good fuckin’ result, and not even break a mention of concern at possible difficulty in producing it?

That was one of the things I thought I had to try and put together myself. I was in a manic scramble to bring together some tools I had lesser knowledge on in order to try something, but when I got an early shot showing me how possible it was by his hand, the least I did was play with the pose a little, which is something I had to learn in blender to do, and guess who taught me? The bloke and friend what does Blender professionally, currently making shit for me! It all makes sense, right? and I should stick to what I know and trust willing people to be willing.

What does having access to this kind of talent mean for the overall work load?

Well…

Not much, I was still editing film like I would’ve, and probably would’ve put too much effort into it regardless. Joe was happy to do his thing, and he was knowledgeable enough to produce it with ease. Mike was staying up way past bedtime to hang out and watch me edit and go through footage right up till the final clip, because he wanted to. And all the while I was getting input from the both of them, and it felt pretty normal.

So what’s the problem?

Well…

Corel VideoStudio.

What I can say of Corel is… at least they’re not Adobe. But they are geriatric in the way they do things, especially their business practices, which is good and bad… but compared to Adobe, they’re the lesser of two evils. VideoStudio is cheap in comparison and buy once and keep forever… unless a new version comes out and you have to buy that version… at a discount at least.

That’s not the issue.

I experienced way more technical problems both familiar and new during this project, with the version of VideoStudio I’ve been using.

Slow editor performance

Crashing

Audio track waves not showing after a certain time

Audio track randomly panning

Audio envelopes not working as intended

Let me talk about this one in particular. The scene where the Warthog drives through a tunnel playing the polka from Red vs Blue? That was working as intended, with effects, panning, volume, everything… until it wasn’t randomly. No matter what I did, I couldn’t even get the panning to work, and if that didn’t work then…

I had to put the video into an external program and create a premixed audio clip.

Anyway, the list isn’t over…

Audio would sometimes distort loudly when being previewed or played, scaring the buhjezzus out of me and those watching my stream.

Crashing during the encoding process?

Actually… no! The project before it (another video of me playing Halo with friends) the encoding crashed multiple times, until I tried encoding without GPU acceleration. But This time, the encoding went just fine…

Until, I looked through the video and found it full of problems.

But… luckily, it wasn’t to much of an issue, and is more my fault. You see, I originally wanted to output the projects as a 30 FPS film, but the footage was in 60 FPS, and so the project was set up for that, and I edited the whole film in 60 FPS. So I go to render the film in 30, only to find the film missing cues for the audio envelop changes, and even erroneous black frames and timing issues throughout.

Simply Rendering out 60 FPS fixed everything… as if it was meant to be. Lesson learned.

So in the end…

I can safely say, I probably won’t go as far next time. Sticking with tight edits and maybe some funny sound clips here and there, who knows.

One thing is for sure…

I can’t keep using Corel VideoStudio anymore

I kept using it because it was convenient, and simple and very easy to make things with. And I’ve been using it for over a decade. I’m a slave to it’s ability to make zoom & panning easy.

But… the editor is too slow, and I don’t understand why even after all these years. Maybe due to the ancient code that it probably retains from the years back when it was using X* for the different versions… maybe even back when it was called Ulead VideoStudio.

I must move on to something modern, and it’ll take some learning to do.

Luckily, I’m nowhere near short on Server 9 game footage to edit.

Thanks again to the two great guys I played with, and subsequently took interest and contributed to what I have made… and more importantly, understood my pace.

#Halo #Halo 3 #Halo MCC #halo shitpost

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