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seaslugfanclub · 6 months ago

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Heyyy !!! Love your writtings and drawings !! You Rock !! And I was really curious about your thoughts on Y/N and Ratigan's relationship! Like how Ratigan grew to like them and all- I have a funny headbanging that the park Attendant managed to save him from Lucifer the cat one time XD

Ratigan and (Y/N)’s First Introduction

————————————————————————

Being in the Disney parks is overwhelming enough, but try being less than a foot tall.

Oh sure, Disney can bring all of these fictional characters to reality, but guess it was too much work for them to size up the smaller characters!

Ratigan is not having a good time. Just like his entire life, he’s had to fight tooth and nail for even a modicum of respect. Now he has to fight even harder to get a room to himself.

Disney didn’t think that far ahead about having a rodent sized villain living amongst the others. For the first few weeks of Ratigan new existence, he had to rely on his extensive talents in order to carve out a small space for himself in the villains breakout room

Oh, how humiliating it was to sleep behind a wall socket like some common vermin!!

And the food situation! It’s nearly impossible to get access to the fridge, and the cabinets have nothing that could even begin to match his expensive tastes.

Not to mention the other villains less than stellar reactions to seeing a ra- ahem- a mouse in their living area

Most of the female villains would screech at the sight of him, jumping onto chairs and demanding for the male villains to kill him.

Yes… it certainly hasn’t been all champagne and caviar…

Ratigans new life only began to improve after his less than respectable meeting with the park attendant (Y/N)

————————————————————————

“(Y/N).”

The park attendant wiped off their brow, setting down a box full of spare costumes to turn towards the intimidating woman in the doorway.

“Oh, good afternoon Lady Tremaine. How’re you doing?”

Tremaine didn’t bother with the pleasantries,

“I have not seen Lucifer since breakfast. Would you have any idea where the little creature is?”

(Y/N) shook their head, “No, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“Well I have matters to attend to soon, and I need Lucifer with me. Find him.”

With nothing but a small grimace, Lady Tremaine left, her shoes tapping sharply against the linoleum tiles of the hallway.

“…..ok…”

(Y/N) shuffled in place for a moment, beginning to think of the cats usual whereabouts.

————————————————————————

“Luci!! C’mon baby! *pst pst pst*

(Y/N) shook a bag of Lucifer’s dry food, hoping the sound would lure the chunky cat out of hiding.

They had been searching for a good 15 minutes without any sign of the feline, and (Y/N) was beginning to feel an anxious flutter in their chest.

Turning up empty handed to Lady Tremaine was not an option.

(Y/N)’s search had lead them to a quieter wing of the villains building, this area mainly being used for storage and management meetings. The park attendant stopped for a moment, hoping to hear the sound of little paws, before going back to shaking the dry food.

“*pst pst pst pst pst* C’mon Luci, your mama’s looking for—” (Y/N) paused, faint scuffling could be heard further down the hall.

Finally!

(Y/N) followed the sound, approaching one of the storage rooms at the end of the hallway, but the closer they got to the scuffling, something else could be heard.

….Yelling?

The door was already slightly ajar when (Y/N) fully pushed their way into the room, causing two pairs of eyes to meet them.

In the back of the room, amongst filing cabinets and schedules of years past was Lady Tremaine’s cat, Lucifer, who’s claws were primed and at the ready… and the heaving body of Professor Ratigan pressed into a corner.

From the look on both of their faces, (Y/N) walked in on something intense, although Lucifer’s expression was one of disappointment while the professors was one of quiet relief.

“LUCIFER—The hell are you doing!?!!! Go, your mama’s been looking for you!” (Y/N) yelled at the cat, who seemed physically pained to leave the rodent alone. Reluctantly, Lucifer trudged pass the park attendant, who was still admonishing him.

“Like you’re not fed enough! What, Where you dropped as a kitten!?”

Once (Y/N) saw Lucifer’s tail disappear around the corner, they immediately turned their attention towards the still cornered Ratigan.

“Professor, are you alright!? I am so. sorry.”

They dropped the bag of cat food to rush towards the rodent, slamming down onto their knees as their eyes flitted over Ratigans form.

His chest was rapidly going up and down, Ratigan obviously still trying to catch his breath. His usually slicked back hair was now falling in front of his face as he stared up at (Y/N).

He seems frazzled, but thankfully free of any scratches or missing appendages.

“…alright?” Ratigan heaved after a few moments of silence, “You asked if I’m alright? OH YOU MENTALLY DEFECTIVE WRETCH, HOW ON EARTH COULD I EVER BE A L R I G H T???”

(Y/N) flinched at the sudden increase of volume, staring down at the now manic looking rodent in shock.

“Ever since I’ve been brought to this demented park, I’ve been nothing but humiliated and scorned! Forced to fend for myself like the common vermin because YOU PEOPLE didn’t have an iota of sense that taking me from the grave would cause me to live amongst GIANTS”

Ratigan began pacing, his eyes wild as he continued,

“I have had to scrounge and scrap to continue this miserable existence, reduced to living off of stale crackers and tap water, to lay my head beneath electrical wires. I’ve been forced to scavenge in these back rooms for supplies since every employee runs off at the sight of me before I can even open my mouth for the simplest of requests. Oh! And let’s not forget me being preyed upon by that devil in feline form! I’ve been hunted by that beast for the past few hours, nearly meeting my second demise! Left alone to die like a cretin, like I’m NOTHING. DO ANY OF YOU KNOW WHO I AM? DO ANY OF YOU KNOW WHO I USED TO BE? I HAVE NOTHING NOW. NOTHING.”

Finally his tiny body gave out, Ratigan collapsing to the carpet dramatically, arm covering his eyes.

“Oh…I’d have been better off a bloated corpse in the Thames.”

(Y/N) couldn’t find any words, watching helplessly as Ratigan sprawled across the floor. Their throat felt tight.

They’d only been hired several months ago, and they’ve only just begun getting along with a few Villains. (Y/N) rarely saw Professor Ratigan, and when they did they reasoned that he had the same provisions that the other smaller Disney rodents had.

When (Y/N) first arrived, they got to meet Ms. Bianca and Mr. Bernard in front of their tiny apartment styled home, which was built into one of the walls of the Disney Protagonist’s building. During the quick introduction, it seemed that the company had thought of everything the couple could’ve needed.

Guess the same quality of service didn’t apply to villains…

(Y/N) sat in silence for a few minutes, allowing Ratigans words to fully sink in, before finally speaking up.

“I didn’t— …..I’m sorry.”

Ratigan didn’t lift his arm from his eyes, “Please. Spare me your pity, human.”

“Oh please, don’t start with that— I’m sorry that you’ve been screwed over, I wasn’t aware that the company’s been this irresponsible.”

Slowly, (Y/N) reached out their hand, palm open in offering,

“I’m still pretty new here, but I think I’ve got a way to pull a few strings…”

Finally lifting his arm, Ratigan looked up at the park attendant. The scent of their sincerity almost nauseating, but what else did he have to lose?

Taking (Y/N)s palm as an invitation, he lifted himself off the carpet and onto (Y/N)s hand.

Oh, how low he’s stooped.

————————————————————————

Turns out (Y/N)’s “few strings” was the one of the villains that they had managed to befriend. With Ratigan in hand, (Y/N) went all the way to the other side of the building to the villains lounge, where they explained the professors dilemma to a very confused Hades, asking for his help.

As distrustful as Ratigan was around humans, he could appreciate this park attendants persuasiveness through subtle manipulation and use of accumulated favors.

Hades, who’s always been a fan of things creepy and crawly, (and also wanted to earn some brownie points with (Y/N) ) agreed to help their little charity case

Half an hour later Ratigan still sat in (Y/N)’s hands, looking up at the now nervous park attendant as they fidgeted in place, staring at the door of their managers office.

After a few minutes and some smoke leaking from underneath the doorway, a very pleased Hades opened the door. The god strolled up to (Y/N), patting them on the back and commenting how “he warmed him up for you” and was about to leave before acknowledging Ratigan in their palm.

“Ya’ better be grateful, tiny. You’ve found the only person in this park who gives a shit about you.”

Just as Ratigan was about to demand an explanation on what (Y/N) was planning, the park attendant strode into the office. Where the pair met eyes with a very pale manager.

The previous anxiousness on (Y/N)s face instantly melted into professionalism, introducing themselves, then placed Ratigan on the managers desk and asking him to share his current quality of life with the sweating man before him.

One slightly confused but melodramatic explanation later, (Y/N) went on to say how “disturbing” it was to see this type of mistreatment in a company who had bragged about the quality of their intellectual properties well being, and that it would be “unfortunate if word about Disneys beloved characters being mistreated got out to the general public, especially those protesting Disneys new holographic AI.”

(Y/N) went on to virtually demand that the company recorrect this oversight, and give Ratigan a fully furnished living space and amenity’s just like the other mice in the park.

The office was dead silent once (Y/N) had finished speaking.

The manager dabbed the sweat from his forehead, cleared his throat, and nodded. The pasty man tried to come up with excuses for the company before conceding, agreeing with (Y/N)s “request” and apologizing to Ratigan, who for once in his life was speechless.

(Y/N) and Ratigan left the managers office with the promise of Ratigans new home being fully constructed within two months, and full permission to take any food/ rodent sized items from the protagonists building.

Ratigan, who was still dazed with the sudden change of luck, was dropped off in the Villains lounge. (Y/N) promising to pick up some fresh food and maybe a rodents sized bed from the “good guys place” before running out of the room.

It wouldn’t be until months later that he’d fully express his gratitude…. But for now, he admitted , he is lucky that he found the one person in this park who gave a shit him.

———————————————————————

Hope this answers your request! I thought it’s be nice to learn how Ratigan and (Y/N) first met!

I’ll definitely make another post about their friendship and more fluff, but how could I resist writing some angst? 😭

#disney villains #self insert #disney imagine #disney x reader #disney hades #ratigan x reader #padraic ratigan #the great mouse detective #Hades is y/n’s scary guard dog

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arcielee · 2 years ago

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Our moonlight drive.

Summary: A night drive with your boyfriend. Paring: Modern Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 700+ Warnings: Modern Aemond fluff to soothe the soul. Author's Note: This story is dedicated to the lovely, the talented @babygirlyofthevale 💜 This is a drabble, sweet piece inspired by the masterpiece in motion Comet Donati by @inthedayswhenlandswerefew (chapter2, oh my goodness). A big thank you to my darling beta readers for your help! Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @sylas-the-grim @aemondx @fan-goddess @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii

Night is coming with its amber smear of burnt oranges and yellows overwhelmed with the purple hue swallowing the last of the day’s light. The route is familiar, a routine drive towards your favorite sweet spot, and the windows are down, letting the cool air knot your hair.

It isn’t far and Aemond parks further back, quickly out and moving to grab your door; you smile with the gesture as he shows that he is firstmost a gentleman, especially when it comes to you. You follow his steps and he reaches for your hand without looking back, knowing fully well that you will take his hand, enlacing your fingers with his own, a perfect fit.

The ice cream parlor is a town antique, with a window opened for the late night crowd to come by. You order first and he leans against your backside, over your shoulder with the shimmer silver curtain of his locks spilling forward.

You feel the warm rumble when he adds, “She also would like sprinkles on top,” and reaches to take napkins from the dispenser.

You peer up at him, a warm glow of pleasure that he remembered, that he knows your simple pleasures.

There is a stone bench that you both straddle, facing one another with your treats in hand; he offers you a spoonful of his ice cream and leans forward to lick your waffle cone. The napkins he grabbed come in handy, helping the failing battle against the muggy night, the sweet spill of sprinkles over the cone’s edge.

Once done, more napkins are needed to clean up and he takes your hand again, leading you back to the car.

This is the only time you willingly place yourself in his blindspot, whenever he would drive but Aemond does not seem to mind it. He likes how you play the role of reconnoiter during daylight, but tonight the roads are empty and this allows you to sink comfortably into the passenger’s seat, enveloped in his scent of leather and his cologne, with a hint of smoke, and you enjoy the press of his large palm into the softness of your thighs, his thumb drawing small circles on the outside.

His vehicle is an imported stick shift, sleek and meticulous, allowing him the control he strives for in every aspect of his life. Aemond is careful, calculated, and you see this in the mirrors added, an extension and a reminder to his half vision; he always turns his head fully to check before a lane change, and this allows him a moment to look at you.

And you are looking back, ever watchful, ever aware of him. In this moment, the blue lumination from the dash gives an iridescent shimmer to the sapphire stone set in his scarred socket, an ethereal glow to the sharp contours of his face.

You feel the warmth return to your cheeks when you see the curl of his lips into a smile that only belongs to you.

“Do you trust me?” the low timbre of his voice asks.

And you do, with everything you have to offer, with every molecule wrapped within you thrumming with a loyalty that began from the moment you met. You remember the play of his perpetual smirk, both inviting and enticing, and what you felt bloom with the first kiss shared, sparked from the touch of his soft lips against your own. It is a feeling that grows still, a sense of comfort and safety with his intimate touches, igniting something that you were not aware existed within your heart.

You keep this to yourself though, and hum your acknowledgement, your grin gleeful. “Where you go, I go,” you remind him.

He does not turn homewards, but instead his long fingers curl around the wheel to rotate, to follow the vacant weave of road lit by his headlights and the settling nightglow. Aemond looks forward and you can see the dimples that line his cheek; only after he settles into gear does he reach for your hand, bringing it up to his lips for a gentle kiss and nestles the hold onto his thigh.

Your fingers curl around in response, a perfect fit.

arcie’s masterlist

#modern aemond targaryen #is a soothing vibe #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd au #aemond targaryen drabble #this is just fluff #a gift for brit and for better days to come

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deputyrook · 2 years ago

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Impressions- 1/? Mark Hoffman x Psychic!Reader

(Repost after I accidentally deleted my tumblr 😭)

Kerry, an old friend of yours, knows that you have a gift for clairvoyance. When she reaches another dead end in the search for Jigsaw, she brings you into the station in a moment of desperation.

Unfortunately, it's not just the two of you who are present for your revelations.

Word count: 3498

Set after Saw II. Inspired in part by this gifset. I have no plan for this, I just started writing for fun, and suddenly I had 3000 words down.

WARNINGS: Blackmail, power imbalance, abusive dynamics, overt threatening, reader is deeply afraid, general Saw-levels of horror.

“Pretty sure having civilians in here is against the rules,” Detective Mark Hoffman remarks to his colleagues as he enters the precinct room, “…and having them play with the evidence definitely is.”

Rigg looks up toward the voice, as do you, but Allison Kerry doesn’t. Her eyes are trained on the piece of evidence that you hold in gloved hands, a small and rusted lock.

Spread out on the desk in front of you are a variety of grisly photographs- from crime scenes and autopsies, all related to the now infamous Jigsaw killer- and a few pieces of physical evidence. It turns your stomach just to see them, but you swallow your discomfort and try not to show on your face how upsetting you find it.

“Take it up with the Chief. He approved this, as long as it never gets out to the public,” Kerry responds with a scowl.

Nobody is happy you’re here. Least of all you. Rigg is the one to finally say it to Hoffman, with an air of forced levity- “Kerry’s got a psychic friend.”

That makes you wince, and Detective Hoffman’s reaction- a slight raise of his eyebrow, and an audible scoff- makes you all the more embarrassed to be here.

“Well, I gotta see this. Aren’t you going to introduce me?” He asks Kerry, walking over and pulling up a seat to the table that you’re all sitting around. He sets his cup of coffee down on the table, right beside some horrific metal contraption, and looks you over skeptically.

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” Kerry snaps, her voice raising in irritation. She finally looks over at Hoffman, shooting him a glare. “She’s been right about things before, and Eric’s been missing for months. You have another lead, you let me know.” Having defended herself, and by extension you, Kerry runs a hand through her hair and sighs.

After a pause, she tells Hoffman your name, and then adds, “We’ve been friends since college.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say with a strained smile. He nods in response, but he’s smirking, like he finds the entire thing ridiculous. To be fair, it is.

“Listen, I don’t… normally do this kind of thing, I swear,” you say to the table of detectives, who all watch you in anticipation. You feel like you’re on a stage, and it makes you worry they can see you start to sweat. You feel the need to defend yourself further, and prove you're not insane (or worse, an idiot). “This isn’t my job. I don’t charge money to do this or anything. I’m only here because Allison asked me.”

“Well then, work your magic,” Hoffman says, taking a sip of his coffee, “Rigg, you willing to put money on this?”

“Let me guess, you’re betting against?” Rigg shoots back, and Hoffman gestures as if to say, obviously.

Ignoring the heat of embarrassment rising in your cheeks, you close your eyes.

“I can’t promise anything,” you mumble, but even as you speak you’re starting to get impressions. Those strange feelings and impulses that beat against your intuition like a war drum.

Turning over the lock in your hands, you feel a sudden sharp pain in your left eye- you drop the lock, cringing, and gingerly reach up to touch your eye, feeling the bone of the socket under the skin.

“I haven’t told her a thing about the investigation, by the way,” Kerry says, and you detect a note of pride, or perhaps vindication, in her tone.

“Something was… here. Cold and heavy, like a lodged bullet.” You point to your eye. The table is silent now. You could hear a pin drop now, each detective’s rapt attention singularly on you. You get the feeling of something on your face, hard and suffocating. And then, the impression of cold- the long winter, wind whistling through trees, and still snow. The forest, the river, the empty lake.

Death.

“This was- whoever was associated with this didn’t make it out alive.” You open your eyes and pick up the autopsy photos, scanning through them until you find one that fits. A sheet covers the head, but you know what’s underneath. You still feel the echo of the mask on your face. Quietly, you pick it up, and then set it back down.

“Some of the details leaked. Lucky guess. Tell us somethin’ about John Kramer or his assistant.” Hoffman says, and you see him shuffle in his seat. His demeanour has changed, going serious. Keyed into your intuition as you are, something spikes a signal of danger through the back of your mind.

Not all that unusual for the cops you’ve met, though.

For several minutes, you get nothing but flutters of feeling and pain. Your foot goes numb, prickles like pins and needles; your body feels warm, like it’s being baked under the sun. Each sensation comes and goes just as quickly. You take the strange metal contraption in your hands, feeling the weight of it in your grasp, and close your eyes again, trying to stifle the feeling of panic that rises within you.

And then slowly, it comes to you. A vision of a chessboard, with multiple pieces, moving too fast for you to follow. It hurts your head to try. Finally, you speak again.

“I think… there’s more than just one. There’s the King. The Bishop. The Rook. The Knight- there’s at least… five? No, four. No wait, there’s a Queen, but is she aware of the play, or just a pawn promoted? And who is he? Is he real, or an imitation?” Your words are coming too fast for you to censor, spilling out so quickly that you trip over them.

“Are you saying there are… a team of Jigsaw killers?” Rigg asks dubiously. You nod.

“I think so. It’s all jumbled, it’s… a thousand strings weaved into patterns that I can’t follow. There are plans laid on top of plans, curled into schemes and plots. The King’s Crown is tainted with a rot, it drips down his forehead, it hurries his hands. It guides their every act.”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know where they are. I just feel her desperation- the Bishop. It’s like a fucking- it’s a torrent. She needs him, because she hurts, and she doesn’t know what care is like if it doesn’t hurt. God, and there’s so much hurt. It’s- it’s endless, it’s all pain. It's all pain.”

“She’s not making any sense-” Rigg mutters.

“Eric Matthews. Where is Eric Matthews,” Kerry’s voice cuts through, bringing its own hailstorm of impressions to you- regret, remorse, desire, annoyance, desperation and guilt, heavy like a stone. Suddenly, you’re struck by the image of Kerry as an angel. You shake it off, confused.

“Ah… cold. It’s cold. He’s inside the Earth. Buried below ground, somewhere deep and dark. Poor Matthews. God. It’s so cold,” you can’t help but shudder, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. It seems so lonely.

Kerry is silent. It’s obvious she would have preferred something more optimistic.

“Anything else?” She asks finally.

“Yeah there’s… there’s something…” you bite your lip, and grimace. There’s a feeling there, distant and only a flicker, but it seems really, really important.

“I can’t quite figure it out, it’s like… it’s like a mirror. What is it? What are you saying?” You sigh, trying to understand. A feeling of rage slips through you. Horrible, sickly loss and rage. A heady sadism, the feeling of power. A feeling of voyeurism- of enjoying it.

You receive a flash of an image, a large figure, in a pig mask. That image is pretty fucking clear, but there’s something about it that you’re just not getting, that seems like it should be really, really obvious to you. You chase the feeling through the corners of your mind, like a dream you can’t quite remember.

The image of the pig’s mask turns to a theatre mask, and then to a blank void. It swirls and laughs at you, mocking.

“There’s something I’m not seeing with him. The brutal one, the Rook. It’s like... he’s been tied up and pulled into this by a wire. The King uses it to move him, but what started in reluctance has become...something else. Something sick,” you mumble. Ironically, with the face a blank and swirling void, the impression becomes stronger.

You feel obsession, the kind that eats away at a soul. They all have it, but this is like a slow burn, a chemical fire in his heart that erupts and spills out. He enjoys it.

And suddenly, it’s like he’s right there. Close, close, it’s so strong and burning so clear because he’s right in front of-

Your eyes snap open, and you’re staring at Detective Mark Hoffman, whose eyes drill into yours.

Without a doubt, with one hundred percent, absolute certainty, you know that he is one of the Jigsaw killers.

“Uh,” you tear your gaze from his, and look at Kerry. The prickle of danger is alighting every nerve in your body, and quickly, you’re starting to panic. You laugh nervously. “Sorry, I don’t know what that was. I don’t have anything else. I should go.” Abruptly, you stand. You need to get the fuck out of this room, where Jigsaw is sitting just feet you-

“Hold on.” Hoffman’s voice freezes you. He rests a hand on your arm, and like a frightened rabbit, you jump. “You alright? That was a lot. You sure you didn’t get anything else?”

“What, are you a believer now?” Rigg asks him. He too looks a bit shaken, but frowns. “Sorry, but we didn’t learn anything from that. I could have told you Eric’s dead. The rest was a mess.”

You incline your head in an apology, feeling your hands start to shake. “I didn’t get anything else. No identities of the accomplices, or anything like that,” Fuck. Fuck, you need to stop talking. When you say the word accomplice, Hoffman’s grip tightens on your arm.

His eyes meet yours, and you feel your breath catch. You think you’re going to be sick.

“You did good,” Kerry says, though she sounds disappointed. She looks over her notepad. “We got a lot of information that’ll be helpful to keep in mind as we investigate. And who knows, maybe more will come to you later.”

“Yeah, maybe,” You say. Suddenly, another wave of pain and dizziness crashes over you, so overpowering that your vision swims. You’re falling, spinning, and then you’re caught in a warm embrace. Sturdy arms are holding you, keeping you from collapsing to the ground.

You open your eyes to see the killer holding you, peering down at you. Expressionless.

Somehow, it feels comforting, even knowing what you know. Somehow, it feels protective.

Lies upon lies.

“Hey, I’m headed out anyway. I can drive you home,” Hoffman says gently, and your eyes widen. Wee oo, wee oo! DANGER!

“Oh, no, I’m okay, really,” You mumble, but as you try to stand and extricate yourself from Hoffman’s grip, he just holds tighter. He smiles in a way where you can sense the snarl, just below the surface.

“Shh. It’s alright. Don’t worry about it,” He says, quiet and forceful, right beside your ear. You catch Rigg rolling his eyes.

“Really Mark?” He mutters. You shift in the embrace again, attempting to stand upright. This time, he lets you go, but keeps a hand on you. To the others you’re sure it looks like a helping hand to steady you. To you, it seems like a threat.

But what can you do? If you scream out that holy fuck, he’s a Jigsaw accomplice, Kerry might believe you and no one else will. You don’t know what Hoffman might do under pressure, but you’re certain that the word of a crackpot psychic wouldn’t be enough to put him behind bars. Not without some kind of proof. And without that, your safety would very much be in danger. More than it already is.

You could adamantly refuse his ride, but then he would definitely know that you know. And again, that puts you in a very dangerous position.

Maybe you could play it off as though you didn’t see or know anything? What choice did you have? Kerry had accidentally fucked you by asking you to come in and do your best.

“Are you okay?” She asks, concerned. She looks from you, to Hoffman. “I have to stay at the office a bit longer, but I’ll catch up with you after. I promise, Mark’s a good guy, even if he looks scary and gets on my nerves. He’ll get you home safe.”

You muster up a smile. Kerry and Rigg know you’re leaving with him. He can’t do anything.

“S-sure. A ride home would be great, then. If it’s not too much trouble.” Your smile wobbles under the intensity of Hoffman’s stare. You feel like a mouse, being cornered by a hawk. Finally, he lets go of you, only to put his hand on the small of your back.

“Steady now,” he says, "It's no trouble." You nod.

“Thanks. Sorry again I couldn’t be of more help,” you shoot Kerry an apologetic smile, and are ushered out of the room by Detective Hoffman.

He leads you out of the precinct, keeping his hand on your back as he does. All the while, your stomach churns in anxiety. Down the corridors, and around countless bends and offices, you're lead down the stairs and eventually reach the door outside.

He stays right beside you all the way out to his car, close enough that you can hear him breathing. By now, it’s dark out, a quarter past nine in the evening. Kerry had asked you to come late, so that if anyone was watching the precinct, you wouldn’t draw any attention- jokes on her, you supposed.

Hoffman opens the car door for you- what a gentleman- and closes it behind you with a heavy thud. It feels like the closing of a coffin door.

A coffin. Another flash, of a coffin filled with glass. Blood, everywhere blood.

“Never believed in psychics before,” Hoffman says to you. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat when you open your eyes. You hadn’t heard him enter the car.

“That’s what Kerry said, the first time I told her,” you murmured. You glance around the vehicle. The doors are locked from the inside, and you don’t know how to open them.

“What’d you see this time?” Hoffman asks as he starts up the car.

“Uh, I don’t know. It was all blurry,” You reply. If you’re going to try to convince him you’re a shit psychic, you’d better start now.

“Uh-huh,” he replies as he pulls out of the parking lot, “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

You swallow nervously, your heart starting to beat wildly in your chest.

“I haven’t told you where I live,” you mention, trying to keep your voice light.

“Let’s go for a drive,” Hoffman answers coldly.

Oh, you’re so fucked.

You close your eyes, searching your intuition and trying to calm your breathing. The damn ‘gift’ has never been much help to you, but if it could get you out of this situation, you would pray to Cassandra every night for the rest of your life in thanks.

“Don’t bother lying any more.” At first, you think it’s your intuition saying that. After a second, you realize it was Detective Hoffman. “You said enough that I know you’re for real. So what’d you see?”

You glance out the window. He’s taking you out of the downtown core, away from the busy streets and traffic lights and out toward the highway. Swallowing nervously, you reply, “A glass coffin. A lot of blood. I don’t know if it’s something that’s happened or is going to happen. It’s never really clear- that’s true.”

And I’m sorry about your sister, a voice inside you whispers surreptitiously. You bite your tongue before you say it out loud.

“How often you get that?” He asks.

“It depends. After a session like today, I’ll get waves of it for a while. And then it’ll ebb. But it always comes back.” A migraine is starting to bloom between your eyes, but you know it’s the least of your problems tonight.

His grip tightens on the steering wheel. Strangely, for a moment, he seems nervous. “Can you... can you talk to the dead?”

You shake your head. “No. Sorry. I wish I could.”

He drives silently for a while. For a weird moment, it almost seems peaceful. He drives on the highway, and then exits onto an off ramp, into an industrial district. Hoffman drives in silence with you for the better part of half an hour. Then, finally, he pulls off beside an old mill of some kind, one that looks like it shut down years ago.

There is not a soul around. If you were to start screaming now, at the top of your lungs, you doubt anyone would hear you. Hoffman unbuckles his seat belt, and turns to face you.

“Are you going to murder me?” You ask, voice shaking.

“Now why would I do that?” There’s a note of false concern in his voice, which is offset by the smug smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth. He wants you to say it out loud.

Right now, you’re feeling helpless.

“Alright. Alright. Yes, I think- I don’t know what I saw. Maybe it was you, maybe it was someone else. Bringing me out here instead of home isn’t a good look for you, you know,” you ramble nervously. He watches you.

“You think I’m the accomplice," he confirms, "Explains why you were so jumpy after,” Hoffman leans across the middle console, and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. It would feel intimate, if it wasn’t overtly threatening.

“Which brings me back to my question. Did you bring me out here to kill me?,” you size up the windows as you speak, wondering if you could break them, if you had to. Can you roll them down? Nope, locked too, just like the door.

“You’re the psychic.” He replies, before he says, “I’ve still got questions that you might be able to help me with. You’re too useful. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I won’t lie to you, so don’t lie to me, either,” you snap back at him. He actually laughs at that, incredulous.

“You’re really something,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Listen. Your... theories. You tell them to me, and only me. You don’t tell Kerry, you don’t tell Rigg. You wouldn’t want to put them in danger, would you? No one would believe you anyway, but let’s not take any chances.” Hoffman leans into your space again, using his size to intimidate you. He’s only inches from you, caging you entirely back against the passenger side car door.

You nod your head in acquiescence. He hums in approval.

“Good. You tell Kerry about your theories, and it doesn’t end well for anyone, get it? Can you 'sense' that?”

And you can. You know he will kill you if he has to. He’ll kill you, Kerry, your family, anyone that gets in his way or threatens his cover. You get the horrible, hopeless sense that nothing would be able to stop him if he wanted you dead.

“Give me your phone.” You pass him your flip phone, still feeling dizzy with adrenaline and a pulse of relief- that he’s not going to kill you. At least not tonight. Probably.

After a few moments, he passes your phone back to you, leaning back into your space. A contact has been added under the name Mark.

“Now I wanna hear you say it. You’re not going to tell anyone else.,” pressed back against the car door, you almost feel like you can’t breathe, but you nod quickly. Sickeningly, your face is flushed from the proximity.

“I won’t tell anyone else what I see about the Jigsaw murders. Just you,” you breathe, and he nods, touching your neck for a brief moment before he lets go and leans back, sitting back in the driver’s seat and looking you over.

“Before I take you home. Is there anything else you picked up that you haven’t told me about?”

“Mostly just feelings. Power, rage, loss, pain. Things like that. The, um, pig mask,” you pause, floundering, worried that continuing will piss him off. But he catches it- of course he does- and raises an eyebrow.

“And?”

“And I’m- I’m sorry about your sister.”

He sits back like you’ve knocked the breath out of him. He looks truly stunned, staring at you with his mouth slightly agape. You quickly add, “I don’t know anything about what happened. Just uh, just that sentence. And the feeling of... of a crushing loss.”

“Right,” he shakes his head, starting the car back up. He nods to himself, like he’s still processing what you’ve said. “Fuckin'... wow."

"Yeah, the intuition doesn't pull any punches," You mumble in return. He glances at you in surprise, and you quietly curse your inability to shut the fuck up.

Reluctantly, you give him your address, and he starts to drive back to the city. Within another half an hour, you’re pulling into the driveway of your apartment building, anxious to be out of the car and into your home.

“Now I know where you live. Got it?” He murmurs. You nod again, mutely. As you exit the car, Mark stops you.

“I’ll be in touch,” he says, before you scamper into your building.

NEXT CHAPTER

#im so sorry for putting this in the tags again #mark hoffman #slasher fic #saw franchise #slasher x reader #saw movies #sawposting #costas mandylor #detective hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman x oc #my writing

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tenaciouschronicler · 4 months ago

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February 26 - March 1 2025 2010

A mother will do whatever is best for her children.

Now I dont like questioning the disembodied voices but...

The path through the mausoleum leads to a different part of the island where a dock can be found. Mom apparently rather than being forced away from Rose chose to leave of her own accord leaving only her martini glass behind.

WV is building a better Can Town, Exile Town, where '[a]ll expatriates are welcome, no matter what happened in the past, regardless of professional persuasion or metallurgical affiliation.' While this just at face value means the 'jobs' of each metal item, ie. can, mailbox, ammo, and type of metal, its really easy to think this is the future WV envisions for him and the others. Perhaps in this timeline, on this planet, he will do the same as Slick and make his own Town reality. AR is none too impressed, especially as this is WV's attempt at wooing PM, and yet, right outside of Exile Town hes got a militia started.

[A]ny town without a proper militia is as good as conquered.

As such he prepares one begrudgingly.

Sure~ Whatever you say AR. WV has his own moment of reflection admiring the sky 'oh my god a huge eggy looking thing just appeared in the sky.'

This is Daves fault. No really! we go back to Dave and Jade who have done most everything else to get the 'punch card eggy loking thign' which is immediately taken by the sprite crow to its 'nest made of shitty swords and soft puppet ass'. Obviously this makes Dave irate and he jokes about putting the egg in the microwave to hatch it which prompts Jade to dump his microwave off the skyscraper.

Not sure exploding the egg is what SBURB wants Dave.

We get to learn more about the differences in player entry and some new machines. Each time a player enters the amount of build grist is muliplied by 10. So John started with 20, Rose had 200 and Dave has 2,000. It seems like the later you enter the easier time you have building (and moving things, remember when 100 Grist was an insane amount to move the cruxtruder?). We can also see some new grist types have been unlocked from the get go though without enemies you cant really use them.

Then boy oh boy do I get to talk about computers again. Since Dave does not have any shale at his disposal hes kinda SOL on using the Punch Designix. This is terrible because we cant see what the JUMPER BLOCK EXTENSION and PUNCH CARD SHUNT actually do with the ALCHEMITER. However we can speculate.

So a Jumper is commonly used on Printed Circuit Boards (PCB) to create connections that modify circuit connections either for fixing electric connections or adapting a PCB for specific requirements. A Jumper Block is used to configure connections for different PCB options consisting of mulitple pins or sockets bridged by shunts to establish those connections. Shunts are used when you want to selectively make or break these connections easily, manually or automatically. Its noted that a card must be punched to affect the flow of current when insterted to the PUNCH CARD SHUNT. Given all this, it seems like this is an upgrade to alchemizing that can affect the core of the system and perhaps more easily automate the creation of new objects.

This is all well and good but that doesnt change the fact Dave does not have a way to punch said cards. So, all that done, Dave goes to install the mystery disk, which in any other circumstance I wouldnt do so casually. While doing so we get to see Rose fighting white Imps with more feline features on LOLAR and that Dave has 3 hours and 41 minutes to destruction.

The disk turns out to be gristTorrent, which is a version of BitTorrent, to leech some of Johns shale and build grist. Now Ive never used BitTorrent myself, though I have heard of it. It uses peer-to-peer (P2P) protocol to distribute data and files over the internet. Its mostly used for very large files and is faster than standard file downloads in this case. The 'seed', in this case John, hosts and sends the initial file while 'peers', in this case Dave, connect and download the file in parts and then in turn can become seeds for others. Dave initially has a decent download rate of 4 g/s (grist per second) that dips once he starts also leeching Build grist. This is because he is the only connection, as one of the downsides is time it takes to reach full download speed without enough peer connections to offset internet bandwith cost.

This concludes Sam's TEDtalk.

In all honesty, Ive tried to make as much of this as consumable as possible and I hope it helps anyone who is lost on the tech side of things. (im gonna need a tag of this too huh)

#homestuck #homestuck replay #hsrp liveblog #hsrp theories #TC's tech TEDtalks #<- there we go new tag. with bonus alliteration!#chrono

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caesarhamato22 · 2 years ago

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Get Up

Rocket x Reader

Word Count: 1.0k

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff.

Summary: You don't want to get out of bed, but of course, Rocket finds a way to convince you.

It was early. Too early. The light hadn't even peaked through the windows yet, and you had to get up? Didn't seem entirely fair.

You weren't used to early mornings as you regularly worked the long night shifts at the bar that lead into the morning. The lack of light and extensive collection of neon lasers was normally the atmosphere you were surrounded by. Pulsing music that almost ruptured your eardrums every single night, but it's okay, you're used to it. Maybe a little deaf in one ear, but that's fine.

Morning shifts were your least favourite of the two. Waking up around 4am to 6am for a 10 to 12 hour working day was brutal, to say the least. Sometimes it was slow, sometimes it was oddly packed, always unpredictable.

Once you were actually awake, it became quite easy the rest of the day.

It was the actual waking up part that was difficult, almost impossible, every time. An entire mission, just to get out of bed.

"Get up."

Rocket, on the other hand, was almost an expert at waking up early, when he needed to. The amount of times he's had to leave at ridiculous hours of either the day or night for a commission was absurd.

On the bright side, it gave him this ability to wake up early with little to no trouble. With only hitting the snooze button once, he was up and getting dressed before the second alarm even had a chance to ring.

He called your name, bringing you from your slumber just enough to be able to hear his words.

"You've got work, baby, so move."

His voice was warm, yet clearly firm. Being well-accustomed to how much you weren't a morning person, he knew you wouldn't wake up from a simple shoulder nudge.

He wandered the bedroom and gathered his gear. While slipping his legs through the holes of his pants, his eyes glanced to you and your figure being highlighted by the sheets hugging your curves.

"It is way to early for anyone to be getting a drink ... " Your voice was blended with a low groan, the pillow muffing your speech.

"I thought you loved serving alcoholics at the crack of dawn." Rocket smirked at his own comment while his eyes focused on his blue and red jacket, tightening it over his undershirt.

"Almost as much as I love them throwing their empty glasses at my head." You turned onto your back and rubbed your eyes, feeling as though you were attempting to dig them out of their sockets, always baffling you on how it felt so good.

Rocket's eyes trailed back to you, still nestled under the covers and pretending you didn't have a shift waiting for you.

"You dodge 'em every time though." He finished suiting up, just having his boots to tie before the time came to walk out the door.

Your eyes blinked a couple times to chase away the dread coursing through you body. You pushed the thin sheet from your neck to your waist with a sigh. Although you knew it was time to remove yourself from bed - the bed that seemed to be more comfortable than it had ever been before - your body refused to listen.

"Come on, gorgeous, get up. I'm not lettin' you be late just because you wanted an extra five minutes."

"I'm trying, Rocket, just ... give me a sec." Your eyes closed once more, sleep quickly fogging your brain as your body melted into the pillows and cozy blankets. So warm and soft. Who needs units anyway? A good sleep beat money any day, you tried to convince yourself.

Rocket stepped beside the bed and studied your relaxing features. Knowing he also needed to leave was another thing, and normally he'd ditch whoever was asleep, leaving them to deal with their own consequences. And he'd later snicker at their attempt in trying to pick up the slack, knowing full well that this could've all been avoided by not having those five more minutes of sleep.

But he didn't care about them. He cared about you. And he cared if you got fired.

He sat on your side of the bed and held the side of your face, gently leaning your head to the other side to face him. Your eyes blurred open, but could still be considered practically closed with little amount you could actually see.

He seeked your lips with his own and pressed a slow soft kiss on your mouth, to which you instinctively reciprocated, parting your lips as an invite.

The kiss was loving, gentle, and so not Rocket.

He was never one for overly physical forms of affection. Of course, he had warmed up to you over time.

But in these moments, where he initiated that passion, you come close to fainting every fucking time.

Your body shifted, letting your hands cradle his face, wanting more, just like you always did. Your tongue grazed his front canines as he sighed into the kiss, wanting nothing but to be as close to you as possible.

His hand left your face before moving to the nape of your neck, holding you, his fingers curling around some of your hair and tugging gently before pulling his lips away from yours, so tauntingly slow.

His hand kept hold of your head as his lips came close to your ear, his breath hot and full of need.

"Now get that ass outta bed so you can have my drink ready for when I pick you up."

With a pat and squeeze on your hip and ass, he rose off the bed and made his way to the door while collecting his bag and weapons along the way.

You watch him disappear around the corner with wide eyes, hearing the sounds of his shoes being tied. The front door eventually opened, announcing his departure.

"I'm poisoning that drink!" You call out.

"Go ahead, princess, I'd drink anything you make me, you know that."

Shit.

Now you wanted to get up, just to see him waiting for you when you were just about finished the ten hours, unpoisoned drink in hand, ready for him to scull. Just for him to order another from his favourite bartender.

Taglist:

@aliasrocket @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @scholastic-dragon @beckalias @ero-manga-sensei @john-hobbit-watson @dreamlessnight @baloneyslacks

#rocket raccoon #x reader #rocket raccoon x reader #gotg #guardians of the galaxy #fanfiction #fanfic

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but-thats-its-own-story · 2 years ago

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This episode man...

This is a damn good Superman series.

I all but stood up and cheered when the House of Zod and his Full-Blown Space Armada was 30 seconds away from straight-up invading Earth but were apparently so in denial about Jor-El's warning that the fricking origin story blew them straight to hell.

I love how they finally name dropped General Sam Lane, implied that he was about to or just had a kid on Zero Day, and had Waller confirm that Clark reminds him of Lois, but still won't actually reveal it until next weeks episode about Fathers.

They were already hinting he subverts the 'heartless general' archetype before, but the way his resolve just breaks when he sees the tears streaming down Clark's face...

The attention to detail with the subtle confirmation that Waller didn't miss Livewire realizing she retained her powers without the suit...

And then Deathstroke gets his trademark eyepatch when she fries his eye out of its socket...

The Kaiju Parasite is a bit excessive, and in a lesser series it would be the season finale villain, but overall it's a pretty cool design, and this isn't over yet.

More attention to detail with the fact that Clark immediately healed when the sun oh-so-symbolically rose, and the emphasis on the dropped bag as a cue to notice Jimmy would pick it up- these people know what they're doing.

I find it interesting that (presumably) Zod is already in superhuman aspect, leading me to believe that he, and by extension Clark, were in fact intentionally engineered as living weapons rather than gaining powers inadvertently from the sun (and to reassert the part of my theory that Clark looks just like him, likely due to being some form of clone.) But it probably is actually Zod rather than a Dark Clark if he was an adult on Zero Day.

So we're just gonna have the most awkward family dinner in the world, where Lois has to explain that The General is actually her dad, Ma and Pa Kent finally make *another* onscreen appearance, Jimmy and Lois collectively freak the hell out over the Dark Clark reveal, and then Zod is just gonna burst through the wall battered from having spent twenty years flying here the long way...

#Toonami #My Adventures With Superman

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bisquid · 29 days ago

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I feel like it should be possible to install plug sockets flush to the wall so that they don't become inconveniences for furniture, thus allowing the installation of more plug sockets, reducing the amount of extension lead spaghetti one needs to engage in

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changelingsandothernonsense · 2 years ago

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Back doing wips

Tagged by @mareenavee Thanks for sticking with me while I'm being highly transient <3

It's been almost a month since I last did one of these. Mostly because I'm tired and drained by some IRL issues... We do have art and writing though. I'm still creating, just being more choosy as to who and when I share my work.

So youse are getting drip-fed Joshi instead.

4th era Joshi painting. I can't wait to detail those Mourning and Attonement scars.

And more progress on Dwifi! Look at him tying up his hair. Starting on his scaring. Poor guy misses that nipple! Writing and surprise screen under the cut <3

Also shhhhhh I made him in BG3 and he looks fantastic.

Ok a little bit of writing. Getting caught by ash creatures whilst diving through Kogoruhn.

He was blinded by a flash, green light invading in vision. A sudden pressure against his chest, winding him. He coughed, gasping for air. His limbs once again felt like lead. Teldryn’s vision blurred, darkness slowly overcoming him. Voices chittering, screeching. Lost and blind. Purposeless. From somewhere across the room Teldryn heard heavy, hollow breaths. A tugging at his armour. He felt something pulling him upright as the room went dark.

Images, words, screams all flashed before him as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Long, endless hallways. The cursed passing by as if he wasn’t there at all. Their eyes hollow, their skin dry and pale, like the ash that surrounded them. Odd growth distorted the forms of some. Reminiscent of a fate he thought he’d already outrun.

Blood, paper, sigils. Dreamers mindlessly chanted as they etched the symbols into the dust. Hollow sockets and wide mouths. Towering creatures with proboscises, trunks. Motheaten robes stirring up dust.

Furniture stacked and coins obsessively arranged.

“The chairs. The tables. All confused,” the words fell from his lips, his own and yet not. He didn’t remember opening his mouth. His head lulled to the side and his limbs refused to move, as much as he tried to fight. He was being dragged deeper and deeper into the ruin. An aqueduct, long, labyrinthian. Its tunnels like the winding canals of Vivec City’s extensive sewer network. Long winding tunnels that seemingly went on forever. Stagnant water pooled under his dragging feet. There was a collapsed section of plaster. An earthen tunnel carved into the citadel’s foundations. A shabby wooden door blocked the way forward. The creature dragged him through it and into a cool, dark cavern. Large braziers illuminated the seemingly endless tunnels. Cauldrons of flesh, piles of infected tissue. Each vessel was crowded over by several, withered forms. Fighting and tearing at each other in an attempt to feast upon the festering viscera. He could feel them pull at his mind. Enticing him. Compelling him to join. No!

‘These are the gifts I offer, Moon-and-Star.’ No!

‘Do not take their offers. They promise and they promise but they are all hollow, Lukal. Hollow. I know you can resist. That you’ll come back to me.’

He promised he’d come back.

“Erra, I’m-“

Teldryn felt himself being tossed to the floor. Landing on his chest with enough force to wind him again. A pair of thin, withered feet came into view. Red cloth, faded over the aeons. Muscles, lean and dehydrated. Skin covered in ash. The creature towered over him. Its piercing red eyes bore into his soul. Finding his uncertainty. He’d been here once, dreaming. The same creature reaching for him as this horror did now.

“My Lord said you’d come to us, Teldryn Sero. And it looks like he was right,” The creature closed the space between them, lifting Teldryn’s chin in its bony fingers. Clouded red eyes darting, almost studying him. A look of disappointment twisted its features as it let him go.

“I always thought you’d look more like him,” the creature tutted, “or be at least as imposing. All that talk and she sends you.”

“I,” Teldryn choked out, “I what?”

The creature regarded him, a smile twisting his lips, “An incarnate who doesn’t resemble the soul he walks in the shadow of. Oh, how fitting.”

Teldryn could feel some of the sensation come back to his fingers. He needed to focus his magicka. Stall for time. By the gods his head was swimming. He needed to keep this ash fuck talking for as long as he could.

“What are you on about?” Teldryn whispered, struggling to form the words.

The creature frowned, a taloned finger scratching its chin. The thing’s elaborately coiled beard tangled as he ran his fingers through it.

“Curious, I wonder how much you do remember, Lord Nerevar. Are you really still in the habit of trusting Daedra Lords? Has she not led you down this path before? Why do you persist, Star-Blessed hero?”

#my art #my wips #teldryn sero #dunmer #danger!josh #skyrim #morrowind #the elder scrolls #tesblr

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ask-the-crimson-king · 2 years ago

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[The thread was continually being quite long, so I am making a new continuation post; prior reply found here.]

@the-consortium

"Most of the human crew have not exhibited many signs of change or mutation," Zikar-Sin said as he turned to begin leading Fabius and his... allies? Friends? Did Fabius Bile have anyone he called a friend? The sorcerer couldn't tell. Regardless, he began leading them down one of the many winding halls that made the ship seem paradoxically larger than it actually was. "Many of them have been the ones helping to ferry in the psykers from elsewhere in the galaxy to safety. Though there will be substantial mutation found among the mortal populace that will eventually inhabit Tizca, I can assure you."

One of the crewmen saluted Zikar-Sin and his entourage as they went back, a smaller and bonier arm hanging over one ofhis shoulders holding a bag of tools. One of his eyes were missing, the socket now long since scarred over.

"Our first destination will be the ship's internal archive," the sorcerer proclaimed. "So that you are familiar with how to navigate it, at least. It exists as a literal extension of the libraries we keep on Sortiarius. The small library provided for you is paltry in comparison, of course. From there we will go to the observatory where I can give you a more firsthand look at the present climates of Prospero and Sortiarius, along with a look at their pasts for a point of reference. Afterwards, well... We can see what piques your interests."

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aferiy · 1 year ago

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AFERIY P010 800W Portable Power Station Review

I have been looking at the AFERIY portable power station and waited until they are on discount. AFERIY P010 800W is one of the highest power output battery in the battery, and I do need this to power my camping kettle, coffee machine, fridge and a mini oven.

I ordered the battery together with a 200W solar panel as I know the sunshine in UK is not the most intense even in summer. I would need a higher power solar panel to take advantage of the free energy from not so optimum daylight.

The battery comes with 28% power and I immediately charged it from the wall socket using the power cable included in the package. It took about an hour to go up to 100% and I am very pleased.

There is a MC4 to XT60 cable for solar panel charging. I bought an solar panel extension cable with MC40 plugs at both end that connects to the integrated power cable that comes out from the solar panel. The other end of the extension cable is connected to the battery’s XT60 cable.

Today I place the solar panel in my garden and connect the cables to the battery input. The AC output is connected to a power extension lead socket bar which powers my 77” OLED TV, FireTV Cube, Echo Sub and a pair of Echo Studio speakers.

On an early June midday today in southeast U.K. , the solar panels fed average 135W power to the battery, while the TV and sound system power output was between 70W - 150W when a Netflix movie was streaming. The battery capacity drops very slowly to 95% in two hours. When I played Spotify on my TV, the capacity climbs back to 100% in an hour.

In a hot and bright summer day, I would expect a higher power generated by the solar panels. I am very pleased with the P010 battery so far. It should be noted that the high voltage and current that the electronics have to handle, careful handling of the battery is necessary particularly during powering up and down of the battery. No power plugs should be inserted or unplugged when the battery is inputting/outputting power.

At 6:00pm the solar panels are still producing > 100W. I do not have any problem with the noise of the cooling fan inside my living room. I have no doubt that the P010 battery will serve me well during my summer campings.

AFERIY P010 Battery

PROS:

800W (1600W surge), lightweight (6.5 kg), PD100W, PD20W, for USB-C and USB-A QC3.0 charging, relatively silent cooling fan.

CONS:

Plastic swinging cover for the power sockets feels flimsy and care should be taken not to break it. Don’t know why it’s designed to open from the bottom and swing up, which is prone to easily broken when accidentally hit upon, rather than swinging open from the top, so that the power cables are always on top to protect the cover.

200W Portable Solar Panel

PROS:

lightweight, contains USB-C and DC sockets for directly charging devices.

CONS:

Cables a bit short. MC4 to Anderson cable in the accessories is out of date technology. No variety of DC adaptor sockets like other brands of solar panels. The integrated supporting legs for the solar panels are a bit short and the tie back from the supports to the panel is too long. This restrains the angle of the panel to max. 40 degrees to the horizontal. Not good to better capture the last light from the setting sun.

#aferiy #aferiy portable power station #portable power station #power station #solar panels #solar energy #power station reviews

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liminevator · 10 months ago

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Floor 001

Rating - Safe

There are no known entities that originate on this floor

No known denizens have been reported to have Floor 001 as their Home Floor as of ■■/■■/■■■■

Description - Floor 001 is a seemingly infinite and monotonous set of halls and rooms decorated with a yellow wallpaper adorned with simple repeating patterns, and a floor made of mismatched dingy brown carpeting thats split up in an odd patchwork-esque way along the ground as if it was thrown together last minute.

What Floor 001 lacks in physical landmarks it makes up for in its strange properties, it is noted by denizens as having many strange odors, notably always being identified as smells that cause the denizen in question distress of some kind, whether it be a traumatic or instinctual response. Monsters with territorial animal ancestry, such as canids or felines, have a notable spike in anxiety levels when on this floor and may start to become paranoid, some insectoids as well may become lost following what they believe is a pheromone trail by mistake. If any of these descriptors apply to you, remember, if you begin smelling what your mind believes is another of your kinds territory or a trail leading to a way out, ignore it, it is lying to you.

There is currently no explainable source for any of this, as all that testing has found is mostly benign (but foul) chemicals within the squares of carpeting such as cadaverine and putrescine, fragments of bones in the carpet fibers, as well as some areas containing trace amounts of dust from possible deceased monsters, any attempts to figure out the source or identities of these assumed cadavers has lead to nothing.

Another unique feature of this floor is its strikingly non-euclidean and constantly changing nature, while impossible geometry is very common in The Outer Bounds, Floor 001 outshines all other floors with how much of a dangerous inconvenience it is known to be, once the elevator leaves your field of view around a corner you will have to find a new way back to it, and same goes for any denizens you entered with. If you enter this floor as a group, do NOT split up unless you are prepared to venture the floor alone for an indeterminable amount of time. Communication devices like radios and walkie-talkies do not work on this floor and neither does a GPS, even paper maps are known to constantly shift in appearance (or rarely even catch on fire) if brought here regardless of if being for a different floor entirely, but sometimes things like mobile phones do work (albeit with limited functionality) if that provides you a sense of comfort. if you do happen to have any electronics on you some walls do have functional power sockets if needed. Even if the devices are rendered nonfunctional they charge completely fine here.

Floor 001 has been very extensively explored and studied but there are still many kinds of phenomena that occur that hasn't had a chance to be fully documented, on rare occasions you will find a door somewhere within the halls that leads to a different section of Floor 001 or rarely even another floor entirely, and this is where the documented info gets limited and will be included in a different file for brevity. Do NOT enter these doors unless you're prepared beforehand or if you are LEET personnel working for The Archive.

While there are some useful materials to be found here in various abandoned outposts and such, ultimately whether or not you're willing to risk it is entirely up to you. Rest assured if you do get lost though, time doesn't move here at all, so you've got plenty to wait for rescue teams to comb through the area and find you.

#🛗 - Floors #[other tags buffer]#writing #worldbuilding #ibispaint art #digital art #liminal spaces #[?? yeah this counts maybe i think]

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anuragbhargava · 1 year ago

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Understanding the Role of a Maxillofacial Surgeon: Insights from Dr. Anurag Bhargava, a Leading Maxillofacial Surgeon in Indore

Maxillofacial surgery is a specialized field that addresses complex conditions of the face, mouth, and jaw. It requires a unique blend of dental, medical, and surgical expertise. Dr. Anurag Bhargava, a renowned maxillofacial surgeon in Indore, provides invaluable insights into this fascinating field, highlighting its importance and the transformative impact it can have on patients' lives.

What is Maxillofacial Surgery?

Maxillofacial surgery, also known as oral and maxillofacial surgery (OMS), involves surgical interventions to treat diseases, injuries, and defects of the face, mouth, teeth, and jaws. This specialty bridges the gap between medicine and dentistry, requiring a deep understanding of both fields. Procedures can range from corrective jaw surgery and facial trauma reconstruction to dental implants and cosmetic enhancements.

Common Conditions Treated by Maxillofacial Surgeons

1. Facial Trauma:

Fractures: Maxillofacial surgeons treat fractures of the jaw, cheekbones, and eye sockets, ensuring proper alignment and healing.

Soft Tissue Injuries: These include lacerations and injuries to the facial skin and muscles, often requiring precise suturing to minimize scarring.

2. Corrective Jaw Surgery (Orthognathic Surgery):

Malocclusion: This involves correcting misaligned jaws to improve chewing, speaking, and facial aesthetics.

Sleep Apnea: Surgical intervention can help reposition the jaw and airway structures to alleviate obstructive sleep apnea.

3. Congenital Disorders:

Cleft Lip and Palate: Maxillofacial surgeons perform surgeries to repair these congenital deformities, improving function and appearance.

Craniofacial Anomalies: These are complex conditions affecting the skull and face, often requiring multi-disciplinary surgical approaches.

4. Dental and Oral Health:

Impacted Teeth: Removal of impacted wisdom teeth and other problematic teeth.

Dental Implants: Placement of dental implants to replace missing teeth and restore oral function.

5. Temporomandibular Joint (TMJ) Disorders:

TMJ Dysfunction: Treatment includes surgical and non-surgical options to alleviate pain and improve jaw function.

The Importance of Maxillofacial Surgery

Maxillofacial surgery is vital for restoring both function and aesthetics. Conditions affecting the face and jaw can have profound impacts on a person's ability to eat, speak, and breathe, as well as their self-esteem and social interactions. A skilled maxillofacial surgeon can significantly enhance a patient's quality of life through meticulous surgical interventions.

Dr. Anurag Bhargava: Expertise and Approach

As a leading maxillofacial surgeon in Indore, Dr. Anurag Bhargava combines extensive training and experience with a patient-centered approach. His expertise spans a wide range of maxillofacial procedures, ensuring comprehensive care for his patients.

1. Personalized Treatment Plans:

Comprehensive Evaluation: Dr. Bhargava conducts thorough evaluations to understand each patient's unique needs and conditions.

Customized Care: He develops personalized treatment plans, considering both functional and aesthetic goals.

2. Advanced Surgical Techniques:

Minimally Invasive Procedures: Whenever possible, Dr. Bhargava employs minimally invasive techniques to reduce recovery time and enhance outcomes.

State-of-the-Art Technology: He utilizes the latest technology and surgical advancements to ensure precision and safety.

3. Holistic Patient Care:

Pre- and Post-Operative Support: Dr. Bhargava provides detailed guidance and support throughout the surgical process, from pre-operative preparation to post-operative recovery.

Interdisciplinary Collaboration: He works closely with other specialists, including orthodontists, plastic surgeons, and ENT specialists, to provide comprehensive care for complex cases.

Success Stories and Patient Testimonials

Dr. Anurag Bhargava’s expertise and compassionate approach have transformed the lives of many patients. Here are a few success stories:

1. Corrective Jaw Surgery: A young woman with severe malocclusion and facial asymmetry underwent orthognathic surgery. Post-surgery, she experienced improved chewing function, enhanced speech, and boosted self-confidence.

2. Facial Trauma Reconstruction: A patient with multiple facial fractures from a car accident received reconstructive surgery. Dr. Bhargava’s skillful intervention restored the patient’s facial structure and function, facilitating a remarkable recovery.

3. Cleft Lip and Palate Repair: A child born with a cleft lip and palate underwent surgical repair. The surgery not only improved the child’s appearance but also enhanced their ability to eat, speak, and breathe properly.

Why Choose Dr. Anurag Bhargava?

Choosing the right maxillofacial surgeon is crucial for achieving optimal outcomes. Here’s why Dr. Anurag Bhargava stands out:

Extensive Experience: With years of experience and numerous successful surgeries, Dr. Bhargava is a trusted expert in the field.

Comprehensive Care: From consultation to recovery, he provides thorough and compassionate care.

Patient-Centered Approach: Dr. Bhargava prioritizes patient comfort, safety, and satisfaction, ensuring a positive surgical experience.

Conclusion

Maxillofacial surgery is a transformative specialty that addresses complex facial and jaw conditions, enhancing both functionality and aesthetics. Dr. Anurag Bhargava, a leading maxillofacial surgeon in Indore, offers expert care and personalized treatment plans, ensuring the best possible outcomes for his patients. If you’re seeking skilled and compassionate care for maxillofacial issues, Dr. Bhargava is the go-to expert in Indore.

For more information or to schedule a consultation, visit Dr. Anurag Bhargava’s website.

#maxillofacial surgery #dr anurag bhargava

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