#in the Stab Lab

[perf3ct-everything]

That isn't magic, at this point this is just science. Stab Science. You're a Stab Scientist now

You are the Stab Wizard—you create magic by stabbing. Fire? Stab the air so hard it ignites. Teleportation? Stab a hole in reality and tear it open. Explosion? Stab an atom to split it apart. The other wizards are unsure what to make of this.

[suntails]

happy birthday silver!!

[inkie-does-whump]

now kinda confused in a very :eyes: kinda way; what are the watchers in this au? how are there so many that pearl can kill 14 of em?

Oh there are many of them, especially since they are running multiple labs at once (think like... when Martyn said there are hundreds of Life Series Games that happen, with a wide variety of people. Somewhere in my AU they are also tormenting Empires SMP people. Somewhere else, they have Pirates SMP folks. And so on.) In one lab there are at least 5 at any given time, but sometimes there are more depending on the experiments they run that day. They keep themselves busy!

The Watchers are magic creatures that eat emotions. Even being magic, they can still die. So sorry for the confusion but I am a firm believer that everything bleeds if you stab it enough times.

[an-albino-pinetree]

HI TREEEE<333

Would monsterlabs au jax consider a hug???!?1??1??1 :D

With you 🫵🏻 risking the possibility of becoming a test subject, yes!!

Monster Labs AU belongs to @etanow !

[confused-stars]

... some half-formed thought about how both Shimin and Zetian had surgeries done on them to remove something from their bodies without their consent so someone else could benefit

[memento-morri-writes]

random snippet - birthday duels

aka Terrible Time Tuesday (yes, I posted parts of this yesterday. But the new parts, which is most of it, are fun! I promise!!)

Rook was not having a good time on Sunday, and this was before he died from a plethora of stab wounds. Would you believe me if I said this was one of the "best" times he's dealt with bad feelings? pov: Rook wordcount: 1.1k character(s): Rook (D&D), Tyra (NPC), Aki (Other PC) canon status: canon session rewrite trigger warnings: death mention, grief, guilt, self-hatred, very unhealthy coping mechanisms summary: on the birthday of his recently deceased friend, Rook struggles to deal with his emotions and winds up taking them out on his first mate, Tyra.

As the day wore on, the black cloud of grief that had settled over the ship grew thicker and more oppressive. Rook paced the deck, nearly vibrating with tension. It was almost suffocating, pressing down on him with the weight of a thousand regrets. 

Thoughts clawed at the back of his mind, bringing unwelcome reminders of the part he had played in Warren’s death. If things had gone differently, if he had been a little faster, a little smarter, would his friend still be here?

He shook his head rapidly, trying to shake off the guilt that clung to him with barbed claws. The others didn’t blame him. They’d made that point very clear. And yet, he still couldn’t help but blame himself. 

Wrenching his thoughts away from the dark pit they were circling, he marched up the stairs leading to the quarterdeck. Tyra stood at the helm, talking to Tempest. When she saw Rook, she trailed off. 

She opened her mouth in greeting, but before she could say a word, Rook spoke. “I know you’re more than capable of handling the crew, but how do I know you can hold your own in a fight?”

Tyra’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I can handle myself. I’m best with my pistol,” she tapped the beautifully carved handle emerging from the holster at her hip, “but I’m not too bad with a rapier.”

Rook made a contemplative sound. There was a long pause as he looked her up and down. “Show me.”

Drawing his rapier, he turned on his heel and descended to the deck, stepping onto the cargo hatch. The crew moved out of the way, clearing a space around him. Looking back up at Tyra, he beckoned her with his sword. 

Tyra exchanged an unreadable glance with Tempest, who stepped forwards to take the wheel as she slowly made her way down to the main deck. She positioned herself across from Rook. Hesitantly, she drew her sword, a curved cutlass that was shorter and thicker than his rapier, with a wide, flat blade.

Around them, the crew had started murmuring, hurriedly placing bets. Rook let their voices fade away, trying his best to clear his racing mind. He and Tyra stared at each other, time stretching out between them.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Rook lunged, sending his blade towards Tyra’s chest. She stepped back, parrying his strike with the flat of her blade. She tried to keep the momentum going, but he disengaged, dancing out of her reach. Now it was her turn to bridge the gap, lunging towards him. He knocked her blade aside with ease. 

Their blades clashed again and again as he effortlessly parried her every blow. She redoubled her efforts, deflecting his next strike. Drawing her arm back, she prepared to attack, leaving her torso unguarded. Rook struck. In a flash, he had his blade hovering over her chest. She froze.

In the background the crew exchanged money as the two stood there, gazes locked. Rook stepped back, raising his sword into a ready position. His heart pounded in his ears as he said, “Again.”

Tyra’s eyes widened, but she raised her sword. This time, she struck first, trying to gain the upper hand early. But it wasn’t long before he had her on the defensive, trying her best to hold him back.

She blocked him again, and this time, instead of pulling back for another strike, he stepped forwards, pushing his sword down her blade. With a flick of his wrist, he knocked the cutlass from her hand.

She stepped back, breathing heavily. 

Rook crossed to where her sword lay, and with one quick motion from his foot, sent it flying into his hand. He held it out to her, hilt first. Reluctantly, she took it. 

“Again.”

This time, he didn’t even give her a second to gather her bearings before he struck, targeting her with several blows in quick succession. Immediately she fell onto her back foot, desperately trying to match his furious pace.

He kept pushing her back, off of the cargo hatch that had been their arena until her foot caught and she stumbled. He pressed on and she fell, back hitting the wood of the deck with an audible thud as her sword clattered from her hand. Rook stood over her, blade hovering inches above her throat. He stared down at her, heart pounding. 

A gentle tap on his shoulder caused him to whirl around, striking at the source of the gesture. The tip of his blade pierced a translucent blue hand, causing it to dissolve into the air. Behind it, Aki stared at him, eyes wide.

“Rook, stop this.” He frowned. “It isn’t healthy.”

“I don’t care.”

Aki’s brow furrowed. “It isn’t helping you.” When Rook said nothing, he added, “Look at her, she’s exhausted.” He gestured towards Tyra.

Rook turned to look at his first mate, who was slowly getting to her feet. She was disheveled, her clothes rumpled and her locs in disarray. Her chest rose and fell as she panted for breath. Aki was right, she was tired. 

“Let her go,” Aki said gently.

Whatever he had been trying to do by challenging her, it wasn’t working. He was breathing more heavily than normal, but it was more due to the tightness in his chest than a difficult fight. His muscles trembled, not from effort or exhaustion, but from tension.

Rook squared his shoulders. “Fine.” He sheathed his sword and turned away. He could feel the crew’s eyes on him as he headed towards the ratlines leading up to the crow’s nest. Ignoring them, he grabbed the rope and began to climb.

Though it had been years since he’d climbed the rigging, it came back to him easily, his body’s memory of six years of sailing guiding him up to the small basket-like platform near the top of the mast. A member of the crew sat inside. As Rook’s head came into view, she started, eyes wide.

“Get out.”

She nodded and hurriedly clambered over the edge, scurrying down the rigging towards the deck.

Rook sank onto the floor of the crow’s nest, tipping his head back until it touched the low wooden wall surrounding the platform. Closing his eyes, he breathed in, then out, forcing himself to slow down.

He wasn’t sure if it was the gentle rocking of the ship, or the wind on his face, or the sun on his skin, or simply the distance from the deck and all the gloom that hung over it, but slowly the tension faded from his body. 

[mossistyping]

ahhhhhhh

[hballegro]

putting these stupid-ass earrings on sam

simply because my mother bought them at a mall in like... 1987 and i NEED more of the world to see them

they're the stupidest earrings i own and coming from ME, the lord of stupid earrings, thats saying something

[cfrog]

Rat outfit based off of a picrew

Original picrew + link

[llycaons]

does anyone remember last year when I stabbed myself at work and I was freaking out. well folks.

[mytardisisparked]

You guys should all read Legion by Brandon Sanderson I promise its so fun and fluffy and doesn't hurt at all :):):):):):):)

[earthandsunandmoon]

do you get lonely working in lab by yourself? my advisor asked....why no. no one can see me make one disaster after another

[flaminghotel202020]

I don't feel like finishing this but still I like it, Btw Shirley Stab & Douglas Davenport came to me in a dream... and I will not go into details what happened in the dream but it just happened and now this is my new OTP/ Rarest of Pairs

[geddy-leesbian]

peek at some visualization stuff for chapter 5,,,,

Luis inspecting Saddler's facilities

[isayoldbean]

finally caught my first legendary of 6.55!! fork down >:)

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

what if i ran lab gabe through with a spear

Womp womp