#Option 7 Through Bolt

[fixdex-fastening-technology]

FIXDEX eta approved wedge anchor through bolt

[amxrany]

!! CHAPTER 7 / DIASOMNIA ARC SPOILERS !!

We're going straight to the point here (Jade's Dream):

So for Jade's Dream, we find ourselves in a place called a Submarine Volcano

Floyd says that he's jealous of Silver's UM, because it sounds fun even if he can only do it in his sleep. Silver also thinks that someone like Floyd could easily master his UM, but Jamil just tells him that Floyd would simply turn people's dreams into nightmares 😭

That's when the volcano started going off and Floyd turned into his merform just in time to save us. Because it turns out that the vents on the volcano can release hot water and smoke that contains toxins that are not good for the body, which causes the others what's Jade doing at a place like this.

Floyd asks Idia to give the others mermaid forms but Idia told him that he can't because he would have to create everything from scratch because he has no knowledge about mermaid anatomy, but Floyd just accepts and turns his bioluminescence on

He's doing something called "Counter Illumination", it's used as a way to camouflage from predators by emitting light that resembles the surface. It's also used to communicate to other mermaids and they use it to hide as well, it can also be used to hunt prey.

That's when we find Jade with Azul, who's finding precious metal in the area, they find one but it's stuck in a crack

Ok so apparently Jade likes seeing people suffer in this lmao, but the face Azul makes in this takes me out like wtf is this 😭 (he got burned while trying to grab the metal)

While watching all of this happen, Silver gets reminded of Ruggie, who looks for coins in the vending machine and Floyd just says that even though Azul loves valuable things, he wouldn't go THAT far (he thinks)

That's when Jade calls for Dream! Floyd and THE FACE IS JUST SO STUPID I CAN'T AHAHAHAHAHAHA

Floyd's just like "wtf do i always look this clueless to Jade?" and Yuu is given the option to roast Floyd lmao but yeah we can see that Jade simply dreams of all 3 of them having fun and them listening to Jade's interest

But Floyd wasn't having it, so he proceeds to attack the group. Let's just say Floyd is not happy, and Dream! Azul's confused as to why there are two Floyds that look exactly like each other and Floyd's just like "what do you mean this guy's like a mirror" about his dream self 😭

(yooo these spot the difference games are getting harder than i thought)

Dream! Azul tells Jade to not be fooled by the new Floyd, because the "real" has always been a lovely and charming person, like the fake is pretty much just gaslighting Jade and Jade believes the fake. Floyd gets upset about his brother leaving him, so he attacks both of the fakes but Jade comes in to protect them and they just start fighting

Idia believes that the reason why Jade isn't waking up is not because of his imagination, but rather, his strong beliefs in his mind basically refusing to listen to anyone. Floyd mentions that Jade refuses to listen to their parents. But basically, if Jade refuses to listen, then Floyd will simply let him sleep peacefully

And yeah the fight still goes on and no one has a clue on how to stop it, until Sebek gets the bright idea of using Living Bolt on them and you can say, it was super effective

(By the way one of the accounts I'm browsing through to make these is @/acesuuu on twitter, check them out for their translations btw their thread helped me find the missing info I lacked)

It seems that Sebek's electroshock therapy actually worked, as Jade is starting to recollect some things. But Dream! Azul literally just comes in and pushes Floyd out of the way 😭Dream! Azul asks how his "cute subordinate" is doing and Dream! Floyd is just saying that he can't live without him. That causes Jade to wake up, because he knows damn well they would never say that

Jade defeats both of the fakes and once that was done Floyd approaches him knowing that he's awake...and they proceed to fight again 💀. But they stop and Jade soon hugs Floyd while apologizing to the others about their "sibling quarrel" (which to the others, is way more than that)

Ortho then shows the video to Jade, who agress that the dream's happy ending seems boring. They're aware that the next dream they're going to is Azul, and everyone is just assuming that capitalism is taking over the world in that dream. Before they traveled, Grim complained that they're struggling to fit cuz the Tweels and Sebek are built like closets 😭

And that's it for Jade's Dream, I was supposed to post this yesterday but it was already late in the evening, so to the next day we go

Hope you guys enjoyed!

Next: Azul's Dream Previous: Floyd's Dream

[cinebration]

The Darkling’s Shadow (The Darkling x Reader) [Part 5]

The Darkling makes a decision.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Epilogue

Tagged: @don-daygamerz​​, @weallhaveadestiny​​, @kaqua​​, @sinful-wxrld​​, @ashdab2611​​, @ultarviolence​​, @chodingcreature​​, @demonenotturno​​, @crowssixof​​, @mxacegrey​​, @dreamlandcreations​​, @s-r-reads​​, @byulsrecs​​, @peleksstuff​​, @seraferna​​, @imtherain​​, @vex-et-soleil​​, @rayrlupin​​, @peakyispunk​​, @itsyaspwr​​, @adajoemaya​​, @b1bbles, @rockintensse​​, @adharanotfound, @allinestarr​​​

Warnings: mention of blood, body horror

Gif Source: ethanhunt

Shock and fear broke the Darkling’s iron composure, his hands instinctively drawing together to perform the Cut. You didn’t so much as flinch, staring at him with eerie, unblinking eyes as though trying to drive the force of your conviction into his skull.

He didn’t complete the movement, leaving the Cut unfinished and melting back into the shadows.

“Now,” you said, your voice low, as though you were struggling to restrain it, “while you waste time coming to the right decision, I will go on ahead and clear the fort of Fjerdans.”

Without so much as a backward glance, you pivoted sharply on your heel and stalked off in the direction of Ulensk. The horses had bolted during the fray, long since gone and out of sight.

The Darkling watched your back until you disappeared behind the trees, once again entertaining the idea of slicing you in half not only for your insolence but for the fear you instilled in him. The feeling was shockingly cold, shriveling his insides and freezing his lungs. His breath tore raggedly from his chest.

If Baghra were there, she would say, “You cannot afford to make an enemy of this woman. Either kill her or bring her into the fold.”

Neither option was preferable to his fear-clouded mind. You knew who he actually was, but rather than flinch and fear him, you had placed the Black Heretic on some kind of pedestal. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would had been like if you had been there during the creation of the Fold. Instead of Baghra’s “What have you done?” you might have stared at the black shadow unfolding across the land with wonder in your eyes and said what the Darkling had most needed to hear in that moment: “Beautiful.”

The thought of it sent a thrill through him. He didn’t have to be General Kirigan in front of you. He didn’t have to temper his words or feign scorn for his “ancestor.” He didn’t have to hide his true plans, centuries in the making, to keep the Grisha from fearing his vision of the future before it had come to pass.

Shouts rose up in the distance, followed immediately by screams.

The Darkling listened to the swelling sounds of violence and death. For a brief moment, as high-pitched screams rent the quiet of the woods, he heard something harmonious in the sound. What had you said that first day? A symphony of their bones…

Perhaps you were right. Perhaps he did need a fanatic, someone utterly devoted to him and his cause. Someone who would do anything without asking why, who would destroy and silence for him while he maintained the aloof composure of a general above it all, his boogeyman operating in the shadows behind him.

The Darkling set off toward the fort, following your footsteps in the snow.

He arrived to find you dispatching one last Fjerdan. The man, fueled by terror and adrenaline, threw himself pell-mell at you. You lunged forward, your hand slapping across his bearded face, and yanked the skeleton from his flesh. Gore splattered over your kefta as the body separated from its bones, a sickening, vile sound splitting the silence. Tossing the skeleton aside with one hand, you wiped your palms on your kefta and turned to face the Darkling.

He surveyed the carnage in mute fascination. “Is this what the other Fjerdans looked like that first day we met?”

“It was more…artful,” you answered, waving your hand about in a vague gesture. “Staged to achieve maximum shock and awe, as they say.”

“You know the value of spectacle.”

“I know the importance of dramatic delivery,” you countered.

“Is that all?” The Darkling stepped around a corpse. “Do you know the value of discretion? Of subtlety?”

“I am capable of it, although I don’t prefer it.”

“You don’t mind being the subject of fear and hatred? You don’t mind the whispers they will speak of you?”

“One doesn’t develop this kind of skill and worry about what others will say. If anything, if they don’t fear and hate me, I will consider myself a failure.”

“Even among Grisha?”

“I am not here for the Grisha.”

The Darkling fixed his gaze on you. You met his stare without flinching once more, letting him bear the weight of your full gaze.

“In four hundred years, you are unlike any Grisha I have ever seen,” he said. The words slipped past his lips unbidden, a truth he didn’t bother twisting or concealing.

“That is the point.”

A faint smile tugged on his lips despite himself. Shaking his head, he schooled his expression into a stern mask. “I don’t deal well with insubordinates.”

“Then don’t give me any orders for me to react to with insubordination.”

“I need to know that I can trust you to do what I ask and how I want it.”

Wiping your hands together again, dried blood flaking off your palms, you countered, “I’m not allowed to have disagreements? To suggest alternatives? Isn’t that what proper counsel does?”

The Darkling frowned. “Now you aim to be one of my strategists? What happened to being my shadow?”

“In some cultures, the shadow is believed to be one’s second self. Or one’s demon. Either way, I have a voice, and I didn’t come all this way to be silenced when you need my expertise most.”

“And why do I need your expertise most now?”

“Can’t you feel it?” You inhaled deeply, as though you could taste it on the air. “The change? Something is coming, and you need to be ready.”

Unease slithered through his guts. “What’s coming?”

A beatific smile split your face. “Your chance for more power.”

A sharp thrill shot up the Darkling’s spine, compounded by the unnerving expression on your face. For a moment, you were darkly beautiful, terrifying and awe-inspiring.

The Darkling slowly stepped forward and extended his hand to you. Eyebrow arching, you slipped your hand in his, your palm rough and your fingers strong as they clasped for a shake.

“Call me Aleksander.”

[autistichalsin]

Okay so I posted this a few weeks ago then deleted almost immediately because I got scared but now I feel brave enough to post again because there have been leaks. SO

Patch 7 spoilers under the cut

There are MANY variations on the evil endings. The most important distinction is between embrace (or disappointed Bhaal) Durge and everyone else.

Embrace Durge ending comes with three options. 1. You kill your companions right away to spare them what is to come next. 2. You tell them to run and that you'll come for them at the end of days. You teleport to the bottom of the brain, your companions look at you and then bolt. 3. You draw your romanced companion (as always, it doesn't acknowledge polyamory; your other partner is always prioritized over Halsin) in for one last kiss, stab them partway through, and then watch them die. Minthara expresses her betrayal that you were supposed to do this together, spawn Astarion (and possibly Ascended too) says he should have killed you when you had the chance, Gale laments that you made him want to live, and Halsin just whispers "Thaniel... goodbye..." Then you kill the other two in your party, teleport to the bottom of the brain, and (this happens in the other two as well) begin slaughtering everyone remaining before getting a vision of yourself as the last person alive- the only moment when Bhaal will be satisfied.

The Tav/generic option has four basic options: kill everyone at once, make everyone think they're living in a utopia you made for them, force everyone to conquer this world and others with you, or cause chaos to consume everyone, sending them all on a murder spree against each other, while leaving some terrified and un-thralled just to heighten the horror. (Ironically, I feel THIS ending would have suited an embrace Durge far better since it's very close to what they wanted to do!)

There are also additional options for if the Emperor was encouraged to rule instead (you can become his right-hand or try and fail to defy him) and if you romanced Minthara or Ascended Astarion (you can double-cross them at the last minute and make them kneel with everyone else). Ascended Astarion in particular is reduced to weakly pleading, near tears.

Lastly, in addition to the Tav options, each Origin gets their own unique ending. Lae'zel can take off on a dragon and go to kill Vlaakith, Wyll will be crowned the highest ruler by a group of thralls, etc.

ALSO, if you have used any tadpole powers before this point, you will be nearly forced to undergo ceremorphosis, and have to pass a high-difficulty (30 IIRC) roll in order not to transform. If you do, everything does still play out the same, but you are squidded out. I think this is true for both sets of endings but wasn't able to confirm.

Besides evil endings, Halsin and Minthara's spellcasting lines are fixed, but it seems Halsin still doesn't have his own tent, and still can't upcast his innate spells such as Healing Word or Call Lightning. Some other glitches are fixed. On the other hand, some have reported Durge no longer receives the Deathstalker Mantle until late in act 1; no word if this is intentional or a bug (please be a bug, please be a bug.) No added scenes/reactivity when resist Durge is killed then brought back to life, sadly. There IS yet another new scene for Minthara, this one of her asking why you spared her if you're in a good run. Many of the characters (but sadly not Halsin as far as I can tell) have new camp idle animations. Shadowheart not only has a new animation that plays every morning and night of her petting Scratch, but she has lines cooing to him, telling him to come cuddle because it's been a long day, or wondering if he's named Scratch because he likes to be scratched behind the ears, etc.

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 7 - Prompt: Smooth @wolfstarmicrofic

January Daily Series - 946 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

“He’s my best friend, who just walked in with a black eye and limp.” The text from Lily was an odd response to his question. He didn’t remember Remus having a limp or a black eye when he saw him an hour ago.

Sirius frowned at his mobile, trying to make sense of it. Either the bloke he’d met wasn’t Remus Lupin, was a different Remus Lupin, or the man ended up in a row between then and now. He wasn’t sure which option he preferred, they all sucked.

He shrugged, then texted back, “That’s strange.”

It wasn’t vitally important at the moment. Curious and confusing, but not important. What was important was James and Regulus attacking each other’s faces in a small wooded area outside of the Inn.

He initially planned to ignore them and head inside with Padfoot, but after wrangling the dog away from a furious sausage cart owner, Sirius needed a little fun to balance things out. Taking the piss out of his best friend and brother was a little too convenient to pass up.

“Oi! Don’t forget to breathe!” he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Wouldn’t want Reggie to pass out.”

As expected, James laughed and ducked his head into Regulus’s shoulder. His brother aimed a glare at him that should have severed his head, a smooth cut straight through the bone. Sirius grinned and held two thumbs up.

“You’re doing great, Reggie! So proud of you!”

James was a lost cause. He shook with silent laughter and barely kept himself upright with his hands on the tree behind Regulus’s head. His brother, on the other hand, looked murderous.

Perfect distraction.

“Sirius, if you don’t fuck right off-” Regulus began, cutting himself short as he hid behind James.

He followed his brother’s panicked gaze to an open third floor window. Sirius waved at Monty with a delighted trill. James’s dad had a perfect view of the snogging pair and given his shit-eating grin, likely hadn’t missed it.

“Effie! I think James won him over,” Monty called loudly over his shoulder.

“Oh?”

“They’re snogging in the snow!”

“Isn’t that sweet?” Effie appeared at the window a moment later. “Congratulations you two! We’ll celebrate at dinner.”

Regulus’s face was nearly fuschia. Sirius couldn’t contain his laughter, it vibrated through him until it spilled over in a loud bark that wasn’t dissimilar from Padfoot’s. He leaned down and hugged the dog for support.

“Wait, Regulus! Don’t kill him.”

James’s yell was a warning and Sirius heeded it without hesitation. With his homicidal brother stomping towards him, he bolted inside the Inn with Padfoot on his heels. He was still laughing, but he did have some sense of self-preservation.

The noisy clomps of his boots were followed by skittering dog claws, and a pair of equally loud footsteps further down the stairs. A mental image of the four of them chasing each other was hysterically funny and it was all he could do to stay upright. Padfoot let out happy barks every few stairs, leaping ahead, then behind him.

“Heel, Padfoot!” Regulus ordered sharply.

To Sirius’s surprise, the dog did. Padfoot dropped onto his bottom and held firm when he tried to drag him up the stairs. Eyeing the incoming rage-filled face, he abandoned Padfoot to James and raced up the stairs.

“Traitor!” he yelled.

Padfoot greeted Regulus with a big grin, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. His brother patted the dog’s head as he stormed past. “Good boy.”

Sirius tripped on the last step when he saw James’s reaction. He’d reached out for Padfoot’s leash, but after Regulus’s praise, he promptly face-planted into the dog’s fur. Howling with renewed laughter, Sirius threw open the door and bounded down the hallway.

“Sirius! Get back here!”

“Come and get me!”

The key to defeating Regulus was to stay ahead of him. If he could remain out of reach, his brother would simply threaten him instead of ripping his hair out. The thrill of the chase was always his favourite part though. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he jammed the key card into the slot.

“James! Save me!” he teased, running into the room.

A derisive snort sounded before his brother grabbed the edge of the door. Sirius’s laughter died on his tongue when Regulus slammed it shut and threw the chain lock, barring James from following him in.

“Shite,” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh, you are in a world of shite,” Regulus retorted, flicking his pocket knife open. “I think you’re due for a haircut, grand frère.”

“No! No! No!” Sirius yelped, running across the beds. He was faster than Regulus, but not by much. “Stay away from my hair!”

Regulus grunted when he slipped on a blanket, then stopped to wrench off his boots and socks angrily. Barefoot, he leapt over the next bed with wild eyes and the knife outstretched. Sirius led him on a frantic chase around the room.

“Hey! Who put the chain on? Sirius? Regulus? Let me in!” James called through the gap.

“Help me! He has a knife!”

“Get…back…here,” Regulus wheezed, tugging at the collar of his shirt, “you prick!”

James banged on the door with both fists. “Open this door or I’ll knock it down!”

Sirius was relieved to see his brother lagging behind as he gulped down air. When he spotted an opening, he raced to the door and released the chain. Immediately, James burst inside with a panicked expression.

“Are you okay? Is he?”

Regulus waved him off and collapsed on a bed with a gasp. “Fuck off…both of…you.”

“I win!”

James stared at them, bewildered. “What the actual fuck?”

[thydungeongal]

A New Party Emerges

So, to pass the time I have been playing solo Old-School Essentials using a randomly generated sandbox generated via Hexroll and with a party of characters whose random stat rolls were outsourced to Tumblr.

To get up to speed on recent events.

Since my last attempt ended on a party wipe, I thus created a new party. This first post will simply be to introduce the new party.

Himbo Baggins Str 15 Int 6 Wis 9 Dex 13 Con 9 Cha 9 Halfling, Lawful 1 hp AC 6 Leather, crossbow + 20 bolts, silver dagger, sack (small), mirror (hand-sized, steel), backpack, tinder box, 1 torch, waterskin, 5 rations, 10 gp

Himbo is a simple little halfling from Heretoforeshire who got bored of the simple halfling life of vaping with his cousins Rippin "Fat Cotton" Took and Merry Randyfuck. He hopes to make a good fortune adventuring so that he may one day retire in a nice hole, but in the meantime he wants to meet new people, help them, and see the world!

Gorn Battleforge Str 16 Int 9 Wis 9 Dex 10 Con 15 Cha 11 Dwarf, Chaotic 2 hp AC 4 Chainmail + shield, spear, sling + 20 stones, sack (small), mirror (hand-sized, steel), backpack, tinder box, 6 torches, waterskin, 4 rations, 10 gp

Gorn is a dwarf, tentatively of the clan Battleforge but somewhat ostracized by the rest of his clan for his unorthodox ways and disrespect for tradition. Gorn wishes for nothing more than to gain money, glory, and power.

Lucy Str 9 Int 9 Wis 8 Dex 16 Con 12 Cha 10 Tiefling (alternate racial class found in Carcass Crawler #3), Neutral 5 hp AC 2 Black eyes, red skin, Fire resistance, cast mirror image once/day Chain mail + shield, silver dagger, sword, holy water, wolfsbane, backpack, tinder box, 1 torch, waterskin, 6 rations, 11 gp

Lucy (full name "Lucia") is a tiefling, a person with a touch of demonic influence. Despite her demonic origin, Lucy is actually a kind person, if a bit vain and mischievous. She is mostly in the life of adventure for the thrill of it.

Bernard Str 11 Int 8 Wis 14 Dex 13 Con 10 Cha 11 Cleric, Neutral 1 hp AC 1 Plate mail + shield, sling + 20 stones, mace, mirror (hand-sized, steel), holy water, backpack, tinder box, 6 torches, waterskin, 3 rations, 14 gp

Bernard is a priest of the church of Neutrality, wandering the world in search of adventure and preaching the value of moderation in all things and "it's impossible to say whether things are bad or good."

Jennifred Str 7 Int 10 Wis 11 Dex 7 Con 14 Cha 17 Magic-User, Neutral Detect magic 2 hp AC 9 Dagger, mirror (hand-sized, steel), pole (10' long, wooden), backpack, tinder box, 3 torches, waterskin, 4 rations, 6 gp

Jennifred is, by all accounts, a nice girl who just happens to be a magic-user. She's not particularly bright, she's clumsy, but she was still able to complete her apprenticeship through sheer positive attitude and lots of nights spent studying while burning the midnight oil.

Anyway, so that's our new party. Unfortunately, as it turns out, the free version of Hexroll doesn't save the state of solo sandboxes on its server, which I think is entirely fair because server storage isn't infinite and neither is maintaining such a service free. I am currently mulling through my options, including whether to become a supporter of Hexroll to be able to maintain continuity between my solo ventures, but for now this new party will have to go into an entirely new solo sandbox.

EDIT: In the meantime, if someone wishes to explore the previous sandbox, here it is!

[the-mic-drop]

Building Zelda in BG3- Sorcerer

@benilos asked for it, and I'm delivering!

So, we've got two options for Zelda; a Sorcerer and a Wizard. A cleric might also work, but I haven't really settled on the specifics yet. The Sorcerer build is below the cut. I'll do the Wizard build next

We'll start with the version I use in the Isekai series I've been posting. I call this one...

The Dragon Queen

Background

Race: Elf (High Elf)

Background: Noble

High Elf Cantrip: Ray of Frost

Now High Elf I feel is self-explanatory, and Ray of Frost is the cantrip because she's more aligned with Naydra and her ice powers. As for the Noble background, I choose that over Sage because this Zelda is when she's really stepping into her role as Hyrule's regent. She's building a rapport with her people and is comfortable using her status as "Princess of Hyrule." Though if you disagree and think Sage is more appropriate, I can't really argue with you.

Abilities

Strength: 8 (-1)

Dexterity: 10 (0)

Constitution: 10 (0)

Intelligence: 16 (+3)

Wisdom: 12 (+1)

Charisma: 17 (+3)

Charisma is the main stat because that's a Sorcerer's spellcasting modifier, and even though Zelda is the Wisdom part of the Triforce, this version of her is much more of an intellectual than a philosopher. I felt the need to give her a tiny boost to Dex and Con becuase she's bound to be good with precision tasks and she's been through quite a bit.

Class & Levels

Class: Sorcerer

Sub-Class: Draconic Bloodline

Draconic Ancestry: White (Cold)

Sorcerer is a natural choice due to the inherited nature of her divine powers, and Draconic Bloodline fits perfectly since this is post-TotK Zelda, who deserves to keep some of her Draconic aspects. (Note that Draconic Bloodline gives you Draconic Resilience, making Mage Armor unnecessary.)

Proficiencies: Arcana, Religion

Cantrips: Shocking Grasp, Light, Friends, Blade Ward

Spells: Thunderwave, Witch Bolt

Arcana and Religion just fit way better than your other options. Shocking Grasp from Urbosa, Light because duh, Friends because her high Cha makes her a natural choice as the party's face, and Blade Ward because of her desire to protect those around her. Thunderwave and Witch Bolt are also thanks to Urbosa.

Level 2

Spell: Feather Fall (She floats sometimes)

Metamagic: Careful Spell, Extended Spell

Level 3

Spell: Gust of Wind (Revali)

Metamagic: Subtle Spell

Level 4

Spell: Hold Person (Calamity Wrangler/Stasis)

Cantrip: Mage Hand

Feat: Ability Improvement (Cha +2)

Mage Hand because she'd love it for efficient research. When you up your Charisma to 19, you'll likely be near the point where you're facing Auntie Ethel and you'll probably be able to get her boon easy enough to top Zelda up at 20 Cha.

Level 5

Spell: Slow (Sage of Time)

Level 6

Spell: Lightning Bolt (Urbosa)

Level 7

Spell: Ice Storm (Naydra)

Level 8

Spell: Banishment/Daylight

Feat: War Caster

Banishment because that's what Zeldas tend to do to Ganon in the series and Daylight because of the divine light she tends to generate. War Caster is just a necessary choice for any spellcaster.

Level 9

Spell: Hold Monster (Calamity Wrangler/Stasis)

Level 10

Spell: Telekinesis (Shiekah Tablets)

Cantrip: Dancing Lights (Divine Light)

Metamagic: Distant Spell

Level 11

Spell: Sunbeam (Divine Light)

Level 12

Spell: Chain Lightning/Cone of Cold/Globe of Invulnerability/Dimension Door

Feat: Mobile/Resilient- Wisdom/Spell Sniper

So, once I get to level 12, I find my main issue with Sorcerer; the lack of spells. You're plenty powerful, but not as utilitarian as you might like. Anyway, by the time you get to your max level, you'll have a Zelda that is as much a force of personality as a force of nature.

[andguesswhat]

The shield that you own - 5

*

The first time Jack slept with Tim, Tim had just broken up with Armie. The situation with Armie had all become too much for him, he couldn’t handle it anymore.

After Jack had taken Tim to his room, Tim had been very stubborn about how exactly he wanted to be rescued in addition and Jack finally gave in, secretly being only too happy to play his savior.

But Jack knew that this break up didn't change a thing. Tim wasn’t looking for someone new, Tim still wasn't meant for him. He’d just needed someone to rescue him from his misery.

That night, after a busy day of promo interviews, Jack had already been in his hotel room when Tim had sent him a message from the hotel bar.

I might be drunk.

Accompanied by a photo of an empty cocktail glass.

A zany smiley below.

When Jack came down to the bar, Tim smiled at him with heavy eyelids, his voice happy like a child who got exactly what he wanted for Christmas. “You came to get me?”

That night, holding a lost, love-starved Tim in his hands, he only wanted to give him peace, the same peace Jack had stopped feeling since he met him. He knew Tim's sexual nature that allowed him to do what he wanted with his slender body and made him feel desired, taken and sheltered at the same time. Jack didn't know if Tim was thinking about Armie at that moment, but he didn't care.

Then when Armie decided to get his life back on track and Tim and Armie got back together, Jack hadn't expected things to continue with him and Tim, but he wasn't exactly surprised either. Because he knew Tim for some years now and Tim was someone who didn't like to be alone for long, who wanted very much to be loved. It was the smallest consolation for Jack that Tim somehow needed him because Armie couldn’t be his 24/7 partner.

Tim was also someone who needed constant reassurance. A prince who wanted to be treated like one.

Alluding to Jack’s high risk profession, Tim had asked Jack on that very night, his voice still a little slurred, his grin cheeky and almost proud, “Soooo would you die for me? Give your life for me?” And of course it had been a joke, but as it was with those jokes, there was also a lot of truth in it.

Jack hadn't said anything, just rolled his eyes and smiled, but that smile was apparently treacherously affectionate enough, because Tim smiled back at him with relief, a pure, innocent and happy smile. Jack could almost hear the bolts bouncing off his shield, disarmed by the happiness he saw in Tim's eyes.... For a few moments, losing himself was an option for eternity.

Now they were in New York for the Dune 2 premiere and Tim was sick, too many flights with too many air conditioners. Jack's job would end earlier than planned. They went through with the premiere in New York anyway, but canceled Colbert and Canada.

While Tim lay in bed in his New York apartment and slept, Jack wandered aimlessly through the apartment from the window front overlooking Central Park to the couch in the living room, rummaged through Tim's bookshelf and went back to the window front. As soon as Tim made a sound, he was there. Helped him with his medication, brought him something to drink and ordered food.

Tim was happy for the company but foremost happy that someone calmed him down.

He wasn't tearful, but he was anxious. What if his voice got affected and he couldn’t do the Dylan movie? So Jack reassured him over and over again that it was just a cold and everything would be fine.

On the second day, Tim's mom took over and Jack was sent home to London.

It wasn't the ending Jack had imagined, but the originally planned ending wouldn't have been so much different. Maybe they would have fucked once more.

But this was the way of things: When his work was over, they went their separate ways until Jack was needed again.

The fact that there were no more promo tours coming up all year and Jack could only hope that there were other opportunities where he was needed, didn't make it any easier.

Jack knew Tim would sneak his way into his thoughts with painful insistence. News and gossip would do the rest.

It wasn't that they were completely out of touch, but the opportunities were few and far between.

On his birthday a few weeks later, Jack was having some drinks with his friends at a pub when Tim called.

Jack briefly apologized to his friends and went out the door. A cold April wind blew around his nose as Tim's soft and cheerful voice wished him a happy birthday.

“Happy birthday, man! I hope you're having a good time. Sorry I'm calling so late, we've been shooting all morning. How are you, man?”

“Good, thanks. I'm in a pub with friends. Having a couple a beers.”

“Good, man. Glad to hear you're having fun. Wish I could be there, too. Celebrating with you.”

It didn't sound too snivelling, but Jack hadn't expected it to.

The conversation went on, Tim told him about his movie shoot, asked him about his upcoming jobs, it was a nice conversation, a harmless conversation.

“I miss you, man. Don't forget that, okay? But it is how it is, right?”

Jack nudged the brick wall with the toe of his shoe. Yes, it was what it was. “Thanks for calling!” was the only thing he could think of.

“Sure thing, man! Did you think I would forget my guardian’s birthday? You're my shield, man. I wish you weren’t so far away so that I could come over!”

There was a pause, a pause so vast that it could mean the whole world.

Jack nudged the wall some more. “Yeah, that would have been nice.”

“Yeah…”

Jack shared Tim’s silence and listened to what was in it.

The moment stretched, for seconds, or years.

“Love you, man.” And then Timmy hung up.

Then Jack heard Tim taking a deep breath and saying, “Okay, my favourite buddyguard, it was nice talking to you. See you soon, okay?”

Soon. “Yeah, thanks again for calling.”

For a while, Jack just stood there and did some nudging against the wall, his hand fiddling with the ring on his left little finger. The ring had been a present from Tim.

Once, when Tim had been given a particularly large number and a particularly fancy choice of rings for an outfit, Jack had apparently looked a little too interested and Tim had had a lot of fun making Jack try them all on. A little later, Tim had given him this simple ring to add ‘a little glamor’ to his outfits. "A tiny cock ring for your tiny cock!" Tim had grinned and Jack had shaken his head with a laugh because Tim was never above dirty jokes, good or bad.

He often wondered if it wasn't healthier for him to move on from this.

Or at least not go down so deep. Keep some distance.

But if he had to say whether it was more of a blessing or a curse that Tim allowed him to love him, he would choose blessing.

He was happier to love him than for the stitches to hurt him.

But he also knew that although yes, he would give his life for Tim, he couldn't forget to live first.

*

He would live and love, for he had no other choice.

Their shields were there everlasting, tailor-made for each man, but he treasured the moments where he had seen them fall.

Jack looked up and the stars looked back at him from the dark rooftop of the city. He smiled melancholically but happily, tenderly brushed over Tim’s ring on his finger, and opened the door to the pub.

and of course @gatoenlaciudad thank you for everything! 😘😘😘

@ my five readers who at least partially enjoyed the story: I'm sorry if it didn't turn out the way you had hoped. Thank you for your interest and effort to follow until the end though, I know it's not an easy story!

@ the rest: The accident scene has been cleared up, you can stop looking and move on.

[skellymom]

"Vagabonds" Chapter 7 "Escape from Ord Mantell" - Part 1

Ongoing fanfic Hunter x Reader/Fem Reader/OC

Hunter meets a smuggler Nomaadi Star Woman with a powerful force sensitive teen who changes the trajectory of CF-99's lives...as they ALL try to escape from The Empire together.

To read Chapter 6:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/733835736590303232/vagabonds-chapter-6?source=share

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

Word Count: 1.3K

Background: The poop really hits the fan this chapter! EVERYONE runs for the hills!!!

Warning: Star Wars swears, Earth swears, fear, physical pain, fainting, smell of blood, blood, blaster weapons firing at people, canon-typical violence.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

Recap Chapter 6: Sil fired up the ‘Dame and kept it running.  He used the thrusters to turn its nose towards the city.  Smoke and fire came into view through the cockpit windows.  Ships around them were taking off and leaving in a hurry, more than usual.  Something big and emergent was happening. 

“What the kriff is going on???” 

“Escape From Ord Mantell - Part 1”

Back at the Marauder Tech and Echo settled in after their trip to the part’s dealer.  

“I am quite surprised how inexpensive that field generator was.  An antique part such as this is difficult to find.”  Tech studied the metal object in his hand.

“The Beldame hasn’t been top-of-the-line for quite a few cycles.  Probably long before we were decanted.”  Chuckled Echo.  “It’s a golden oldie.” 

“Remind me to return Love the credits they advanced us.  This purchase is...how they say, “on the house?”  

Echo pulled out the locally bottled brews he picked up on the way back to the Marauder and handed one to Tech. They were just ready to crack them open and kick back but were interrupted. 

Omega's mortified voice chirped out from the Marauder’s comm. “Echo, Tech, Wrecker, something bad has happened.  Hunter and I are leaving Ord Mantell on the Beldame!” 

Tech and Echo perked up.  Why wasn’t Hunter contacting them?  Was he hurt???  Where was Wrecker? 

Another message immediately came in “Ey, on my way over!  Hunter told me to contact ya, he’s...” 

“Leaving Ord Mantell with Omega on the ‘Dame!”  Tech interjected. 

“GEEZ!  Was it fairly OBVIOUS???” snarked Wrecker.  “I’m being SHOT AT here!!!” 

“Wrecker, get here ASAP!” Instructed Echo. 

“I’M TRYIN’!!! 

Wrecker escaped down a random narrow side street.  There were piles of garbage, refuse containers...and a dead end.  He was stuck, with his pursuers and their blaster fire approaching.  Wrecker spun around and faced the opening of the street; weapon raised and pulled a thermal detonator from his belt.  He was ready to go out in a blaze of glory if needed.   

“Sssspt...hey...ssspt...” a raspy voice called out from the garbage. 

Wrecker swung around to see a bearded, dirty, skinny man wearing a trash receptacle lid as a hat.  It was surreal. 

“Whaaa???” 

“You!” 

“Me???” 

“Of course, silly!  Come and hide before they see you!!!” 

Wrecker didn’t have a lot of options and figured this skinny man was no match for his considerable strength.  Running up to him, Wrecker noticed there was a dark open hole leading to who knows where.  Wrecker stopped and looked at the man with growing skepticism. 

“Hop in!  Hurry, we haven’t much time!!!” 

A blaster bolt shot over Wrecker’s head, and he dived headfirst into the hole.  The skinny man jumped in after feet first.  His receptacle lid hat expertly detached from his head as it met with the sides of the can.  Fitting snugly and locking in place with nobody knowing the wiser that this was a hideout entrance. 

“AAAaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!” Wrecker screamed in abject fear, sliding along at top speed in the dark. 

“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”  Slid the man gleefully cackling manically behind Wrecker.  

Wrecker came to a stop at the end of the slide splashing into a large pool of rancid water.   The man followed closely behind. 

“Ugh!” Wrecker retched.  “Where ARE WE?  It smells HORRIBLE!!!” 

“We’re in the sewers below Ord Mantell.”  The man proclaimed proudly.  “Nobody likes to come down here.  Perfect hiding spot!” 

“Oooh...GAH!”  Wrecker retched again.  What the kriff was he covered in?  He shuddered to even consider. 

“Been watching you and your friends.  You’re runnin’ from the ‘Bounties and the Empire!”  The man goggled eyed and smiled like he was shy a shred of sanity. 

Wrecker backed up, “Uhh, I don’t' want no trouble.”  The man’s statement was high on the creepy scale.  How was he able to watch them? 

“No trouble vod, don’t you recognize me?”  The man’s expression changed to disappointment. 

Wrecker removed his helmet and let his eyes adjust to the gloom of the sewer.  Through the dirt, beard, and bits of trash sticking to the man he recognized the features.  This man was a clone.  A rogue Reg. 

“Name’s Riffraff.  Deserted my post during Order 66.”  Haunted expression, gritted teeth.  “I couldn’t do what they ordered...just couldn’t...” He looked close to tears.  

“Wrecker.  Clone Force 99.  We all deserted...except for one brother.”  He felt bad for this Reg. At least Wrecker had his brothers.  This clone had to survive all alone.  No wonder he looked aged and unrecognizable. 

“So relieved to find another brother...who didn’t agree with the Empire’s Jedi ‘Solution’.”  A small wan smile appeared on the man’s face.  “I have vantage points all over the city that connect with the sewer networks throughout Ord Mantell.  Saw your vod and his girlfriend escape towards the ‘Dame.  Can take you to the Marauder so the rest of you can flee.” 

“The place must be swarming with unfriendlies now.  Can’t get back unnoticed.” 

“Stick with me, Wrecker, we’ll just follow the underground tunnels to the transport lot.  You can pop up right under your ship.”  Riffraff playfully slapped his knee.  The crazed smile came back. 

“Right, yeah...the ship’s sewer line port.” Wrecker envisioned himself crawling up through the excrement that was flushed from the Marauder when they docked.  Shouldn’t have eaten all that Mantell Mix.  Wrecker shivered and gagged again. 

“Get you there in no time! Let's go!!!”  Riffraff excitedly took off splashing through the sewer.   

Wrecker put his helmet back on to keep the poodoo water off his face and followed. 

Mad and Hunter burst out from the side streets of Ord Mantell and ran across the docking tarmac. Beldame’s gangplank was down, and Love was waiting for them.  

Mad’s step faltered, she dropped the cooler, and held her side. “Ughh” going down on one knee. 

Hunter grabbed the cooler by the strap and slid it over his shoulder. He tried to pull Mad back onto her feet, “C’mon. You can do this!” 

“No...no I can’t.” She looked pale and very unwell. Hunter faintly smelled blood, but unsure where it came from. They were running out of time. He stooped down and carefully put Mad over his shoulder. The coppery smell of blood suddenly became stronger, but Hunter put it out of his mind. He stood, turned, and ran the rest of the way to the ‘Dame.  

Troopers emerged from the city shooting at them. The probability of a blaster shot hitting either one of them became a terrifying reality. Hunter couldn’t even pull his sidearm to shoot defensively. His one sole mission right now was holding onto Mad and whatever was in the cooler and getting to safety. 

Laser blasts whizzed past Hunter as he ran. Ahead he saw Love’s eyes meet his. In his head he heard a voice, “I’ve got you covered, keep running!” Love raised their hands and Hunter felt an invisible wave emanate from the teen. They were blocking the blaster fire. 

Hunter ran up the gang plank and caught a glimpse of Love’s hands rear back and push out with the Force. The squadron of troopers were thrown back like toys. The gap in blaster fire might just allow them time to escape the planet. He proceeded onto the ship. Hunter was relieved to see Omega safe and strapped in. From her expression she was just as relieved to see him, but still fearful.  Omega had Tiggy in a total death grip of a hug. 

“Set me in the pilot’s seat” instructed Mad. 

“You’re not in any condition to fly” 

“I need you as rear gunner. Nobody else on the ship can pilot” 

“Sil?” 

“Not arguing. He’s copilot. Love is the shield.” 

“SHIT! You still don’t have a shield???” 

With no other options, Hunter dutifully approached the pilot’s chair. Sil moved over to copilot and buckled in. Hunter carefully set Mad down, strapped her in and ran to the gunner's seat. The gangplank closed, and Mad engaged the Beldame to take off. 

Sil opened with laser fire at the bow while Hunter did the same at the stern. Several stray shots from the enemy hit the ship.  The ‘Dame sparked and shook. 

Omega watched from her seat as Love levitated above the decking, raising up both arms, eyes closed in full concentration to Force Shield the ship. Clearly this was not Love’s first time. Hunter felt something and momentarily turned in his seat while firing away. With his enhanced senses he could see the air around Love distort and occasionally shimmer. It permeated the whole ship and seeped outside of it. From Hunter’s vantage point, the distortion covered the entirety of the Beldame.

Echo and Tech watched the last of the ships on the docking tarmac escape off world.  Everyone and their brother were getting away from Ord Mantell in one hell of a hurry. 

The Marauder started taking heavy hits from blaster fire.  Apparently, whomever was pursuing Hunter and Mad must have gotten intel that the rest of the Batchers were involved and identified their ship...

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

To read Chapter 8:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/735297232933453824/vagabonds-chapter-8?source=share

[eu0n1a]

9 story starter prompts (pt5)

1) Cutting the wrong wire wasn't an option

2) I thought that nothing could be worse than opening a duffel bag filled with angry bees, I was wrong.

3) She really wished the genie would live inside its lamp instead of mother's crystal decanter, but she's supposed beggars can't be choosers, unless of course they wanted to waste one of their three wishes.

4) I told Heathcliff to get off the moors, as only someone who was up to something would hang out there: but he continued to brood.

5)It was a small glade with a River running through it and sunflowers everywhere. It made his cramped office more depressing to hang such a picture on his wall, but atleast now he could pretend he has a window.

6) It opened its eyes—and they started right at me.

7) There was so much mud stick to his boots that they were impossible to get back on. I could buy another pair, he thought. But that's how rich people get to you. They full the world with mud, make you walk across it, and then charge you for new boots.

8) She swung down and threw the bolt toward the rock face, anchoring herself just in time —but the rope was fraying.

9) The air was so hot and the water has run dry, which might not seem that odd, but it also happened that the fire was wet and the earth was exploding, blowing small children very far away. Everything has gone topsy-turvy and the witch was not altogether sure that she cared enough about small children to go to the bother of saving them.

[fixdex-fastening-technology]

FIXDEX Concrete screws all size large quantity with best price

[sixgunluvr]

A Love To Protect

Chapter 6

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

Mature Age 18+ Readers ONLY

Pairing Arthur with a female reader.

There may be errors. I read through these a couple times but I still may miss things.

Arthur and you hurry back to camp in silence.

It was late and everyone was asleep, except for the guards on duty.

Worry was etched on your face as you sat down beside Arthur.

He could feel your anxiety and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close.

"We'll figure this out," he soothed. But deep down, he was just as anxious and unsure as you.

He couldn't shake off the feeling of being trapped and at the mercy of Micah. The thought of sending you off to deliver a mysterious package made him sick to his stomach. He hated the idea of putting you in danger.

You both agreed to wait until morning to inform the gang.

Arthur held you as close as he could the entire night.  He didn't want to let go, knowing that in the morning you would be leaving to deliver the package to Silas. He was still uneasy about the whole situation but was trying to put on a brave face for you.

As dawn broke, the whole camp began to stir. You both reluctantly got up and  went about your morning routines, although the weight of Micah's deal hung heavy in the air. The rest of the gang were oblivious to the drama unfolding between you and Arthur, and they went about their usual business.

But as everyone sat down to eat breakfast, Arthur decided it was time to inform the others. He gathered everyone around and told them about the package that needed to be delivered to Silas. He left out the part where you had to make the delivery alone, but still, there were murmurs of unease among the group. You could tell they knew something was off.

The members of the gang had been together for years, and they had formed a tight-knit bond that allowed them to sense each other's emotions. Yet, Arthur remained calm and collected as he explained how the package needed to be delivered to Silas.

"No!" Dutch yelled slamming his fist down on the table, "No way in hell is she doing this!"

"Dutch, we have no choice," Arthur said looking down, defeated.

"The hell we don't!" Dutch snapped.

"Micah said if we don't do this he's going to lead the Pinkertons to us," Arthur snapped back bolting to his feet and hitting the table hard enough to startle everyone.

Gasps echoed among the group as they looked at each other in disbelief.

The air was thick with tension as they weighed their options.

As much as they wanted to defy the ruthless Micah, he had too much potential power over them. Arthur realized that he had to prioritize the safety and freedom of his beloved and the rest of the gang, even if it meant putting himself at Micah's mercy.

As Arthur explained the dangerous situation to his loyal companions, they began to understand the gravity of their circumstances. Dutch, acting on behalf of the gang, reluctantly agreed to let you make the delivery alone. It was risky, but they knew they could trust your judgment and intuition.

Dutch quickly organized a plan to ensure your safety, despite the tension that rippled through the group. The atmosphere was somber as you said your goodbyes, with Arthur's gaze lingering on you longer than usual, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion and love that felt both profound and bittersweet.

As you rode off to meet Silas, Arthur and the rest of the gang watched your every move from afar. The fear of something bad happening weighed heavy on their minds, but they couldn't afford to be obvious about it.

Micah was a cunning and dangerous man, and they couldn't risk him suspecting anything.

Arthur and the rest of the men were all following at a distance, spread out. They were keeping you within sight but far enough away that it wouldn't look suspicious. Arthur's gaze never left you as you rode further and further away from him, your heart sinking with every inch.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched, even though you knew you were safe for now. No doubt Micah's men were also hidden somewhere in the shadows, keeping an eye on you. It made your skin crawl to think about what they might do if given the chance.

Even though the gang was all around you, you were actually alone. They were too far away to be of any help if something were to go wrong. It was just you and the horse making your way through the desolate wilderness.

The sun was beaming down on you, making you squint as you looked towards the horizon. You had never felt so alone before.

The terrain was rough, with jagged rocks and cacti littering the landscape. You navigated around them carefully, making sure not to puncture one of your horse's hooves. Your hands gripped the reins tightly as you scanned the area for any signs of danger.

Your heart was racing, but you tried to calm yourself down. Arthur and the others were watching from a distance, ensuring your safety until you arrived at your destination.

As you arrived at the designated spot to meet Silas, your heart could almost be heard thumping under your shirt.

It was a small shack surrounded by trees and brush. It looked abandoned from the front. Circling the the shack you discover a moonshine operation out back.

Your hands trembled as you got off your horse, the saddlebag that Micah had given you clutched tightly in your grip. You looked cautiously around, but there was no sign of the man.

Just as you were weighing your options on what to do next, a rough voice spoke from behind you. "You got it?" You turned around suddenly, faced with a rugged and handsome middle-aged man with a hint of danger in his eyes. Silas. He nodded towards the saddlebag slung over your shoulder and reached out for it.

But before you could hand it over, the bushes around him rustled, and suddenly he spun around, his hand reaching for his gun.

Out from the undergrowth emerged a group of rough-looking men, their weapons pointed directly at Silas, and you.

Your heart raced as you held your breath, every muscle in your body tense, waiting for what would happen next. You were in danger, just as Arthur and the others had feared, and there was nothing you could do but watch as the scene unfolded before you.

Your focus on Silas and the men, you didn't hear the men approaching from behind.

One of them grabbed you around the waist and put the barrel of a revolver to your temple.

You were to afraid to move. Fear coursed through you like a raging river, you didn't know who these men were or what they wanted with you.

"Silas," a familiar voice said emerging from the bushes, "I see you've met our little delivery girl."

Your heart sank as the voice registered in your mind. It was Micah, and he had double-crossed you.

The man holding you tightened his grip, pulling you closer as a wave of panic washed over you. "You're right, boss, she IS a sweet thing," he growled licking your neck.

Bile rose in your throat and your legs weakened.

Micah stepped out from behind the bushes, a sickening grin on his face as he approached Silas and the strangers.

"There's no need for any violence," Micah said, hands raised in surrender.

He glanced over at you, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "I just needed to make sure everything would go smoothly here."

The air around you grew thick with tension as the men around you snickered. You struggled against the man holding you, trying to free yourself from his grip. But fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, making it difficult for you to move.

"Now, let's all just calm down," Micah said, taking a step closer to Silas and the other men.

He held up the saddlebag, gesturing to its contents. "You know what I've brought you here for, Silas. I assume you already know what's inside."

Silas sneered and nodded. "Yeah, it's the money we agreed on for my moonshine operation here. So, just hand it over and my men and I will be on our way."

Micah chuckled coldly, shaking his head. "I'm afraid it's not quite that simple, Silas.

You see, I promised the girl, her and her cowpoke lover, that I would leave them alone and they would never see me again. But by the time I realized how I would do anything, anything, to get to her, it was already too late. I had grown tired of playing second fiddle to their love. You see, this was the only way to get this sweet thing away from Arthur.

I've had my eye on her for quite some time, and now I want her, all to myself."

The men around you snickered again, and you felt your stomach turn as Micah's words sunk in. He had never intended to leave you alone. Instead, he had planned to use you as a means of getting what he wanted all along: you.

The fear that gripped your heart was unlike anything you had ever felt before.

"Oh, and by the way, Silas," Micah added with a sarcastic tone, "this little package that I promised you, is just full of worthless paper." 

Opening the saddlebag and dumping nothing but torn paper onto the ground, Micah laughed the most evil laugh you've ever heard.

Silas narrowed his eyes, looking incredulously at Micah. "You've got to be kidding me."

"No, I'm afraid not. But don't worry, you'll get your share soon enough," Micah assured him with a sinister grin and pointing his gun at Silas' head.  "See, I have a new deal for you now. Silas, you're going to give me your men, your horses, your entire operation. And in return, I'll let you live."

Silas's eyes widened as he quickly weighed his options. He didn't look pleased but knew he had no other choice. "Fine," he growled through gritted teeth. "But what about her?" he asked, nodding at you.

Micah looked at you with a hunger that sent chills down your spine before turning back to Silas.

"Don't worry about her. She's mine now."

The words made your heart skip a beat as fear and disgust coursed through your veins. Micah's men grabbed you by the arms, dragging you forward towards their leader. You struggled against them, trying to wriggle free, but they were too strong.

As you got closer to Micah, his eyes glinted with malevolent glee. His grin widened as he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to touch your face.

You recoiled at his touch, turning your head away from his vile touch. But Micah was relentless, his grip on your chin only tightening as he forced you to look at him.

"Don't be afraid," he crooned. "I'm going to take real good care of you," he said with an evil  grin.

The thought of being taken care of by this monster sent shivers of revulsion down your spine. His menacing tone, his wicked gaze, and the way he forced you to look at him made you feel like a trapped animal, afraid for its life.

Just as you were wondering what fate awaited you, Arthur burst in from the outskirts of the clearing. His gun was trained on Micah, ready to fire at a moment's notice, anger and determination in his eyes.

"Let her go," Arthur demanded, his voice strained with fear and anger.

Micah grinned, his eyes never leaving yours. "Ah, Arthur," he said, taunting. "I wondered when you'd show up. I see you couldn't resist the bait."

Arthur's grip on his gun tightened, his eyes scanning the group of men before him. His gaze lingered on you for a brief moment, his expression one of relief and concern. "You okay?" he mouthed silently. You gave a small nod, hoping he couldn't see the fear in your eyes.

Micah let out a low chuckle, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the group.

"You don't really think it's that easy, do you Arthur?" he sneered, continuing to hold you tight.

Arthur's face was set in a mask of determination as he spoke. "Let her go, Micah, or I swear to God I'll put a bullet in your head," he threatened, his finger twitching on the trigger of his gun.

The threat only seemed to amuse Micah further, his lips curling into a contemptuous smile.

"You're not going to do a damn thing as long as I have her." His grip on you tightened, and you could feel his hot breath on your neck.

Fear raced through your body like a stampede of wild horses. You had never felt so vulnerable, so helpless. But even in the face of such danger, your love for Arthur remained unwavering. You knew he would do everything in his power to keep you safe.

The stand-off between Arthur and Micah continued for what seemed like an eternity.

Micah's grip on you never faltered as he continued to mock Arthur, his ego and greed getting the better of him.

The tension in the air was palpable, and even the wind seemed to hold its breath, waiting for what would happen next. Arthur's gaze remained locked on Micah, his gun steady in his hand. You could see the determination and the fierce love that he held for you shining bright in his eyes.

Micah's taunts grew louder, his grip on you tighter.

"Don't you worry about her, cowpoke. I'm gonna treat her real good," he said taunting Arthur and biting at your ear.

That pushed Arthur's anger and fear for your safety to their peak.

But just as things seemed like they would come to a head, Dutch's voice rang out from behind Micah and his men. "Let her go, Micah!" he yelled, his own gun pointed at Micah's head. The rest of the gang followed suit, their guns trained on the menacing group, surrounding them completely.

Micah sneered, but you could see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

"You don't have the guts, Arthur," he growled, his grip on you loosening just slightly.

Arthur took a step forward, his eyes never leaving Micah's. "Try me," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Dutch and the rest of the gang moved in closer, surrounding Micah and his men completely. The tension was at its breaking point, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for what would happen next.

Arthur's gaze remained fixed on Micah, his determination unwavering as he held the gun steady in his hand. Dutch and the rest of the gang stood with them, ready to back up Arthur in whatever he needed to do to keep you safe.

Micah's grip on you loosened further, but he still refused to let go. His men exchanged uneasy glances, clearly unsure of how to proceed. You could see the conflict in their eyes, torn between loyalty to their leader and fear of what Arthur and the gang might do to them.

Micah seemed to sense their internal struggle, and his grip on you tightened.

"I said, let her go!" Arthur's voice was full of authority and determination as he pulled the hammer back on his revolver, pointing it at Micah's head.

The tension in the air was electrifying, and your heart raced as you waited for Micah's response. "Fine," he finally spat, throwing you to the ground. 

You hear Micah yell, "Say goodbye cowpoke!"

The sound of a single gun shot rang out.

[witchy1life]

ATLEY HEADCANONS

OR IF YOU'RE UNFAMILIAR, ATLANTA x HERRY

I'm bored, it's almost 3 AM, and they're rotting my brain; some of these were brought to you by the COTT discord server.

STARTING US OFF

` Dumb jock who doesn't know his strength x Mean athlete who reminds him

` "I might hurt her, I need to be gentle." "I'm not made of glass jackass, kiss me." relationship

` He kisses her bruises after every fight, she calls him sappy but secretly loves it.

` Extremely gentle due to the vast size difference, always shows her affection so sweet and easy that it can be compared to that of a new owner and a baby kitten

` Their dates consist of going on runs, exercising, training, and fast food.

` Holds Atlanta on his shoulders at any given chance, she rests her arms on his head and her head on both; sometimes naps there and Henry won't move a single muscle

` Herry is the groups medic however will only ever treat Atlanta first if it's not a dire situation, if they all got some scrapes and bruises however he checks on her first. "Did I bump you too hard? I'm sorry babe.." "YOU TOOK A LEFT HOOK TO THE JAW FOR ME, I AM MORE THAN FINE."

` He does everything for her, carries her bags, her books, and her equipment. She tries to do it herself and tells him that she can but he just shakes his head and takes it back from her.

` Buys her 7 balloons for the Valentine's day grams, the limit is 5 but Herry can be pretty threatening if he wants to.

` Atlanta isn't a big pda girl, small kisses, short hand holding, hugs, and that's about it. But at home especially at night she wears one of his old shirts, some sleep shorts, and face plants his chest to go to bed at night. Only Neil knows this, she holds his mirror hostage because of it.

` Atlanta is scared of thunderstorms due to one killing her mother in a freak accident (This will be explained in another post), so whenever a storm rolls around Herry gathers all the blankets and pillows accessible to him, lets her hide in his chest when loud cracks or booms fill the sky, and plays his TV on 50% volume; pretending he doesn't hear her whimpers or feels tear stains on his shirt, just hugs her closer to him and rubs soothing little circles into her back.

` Big gentle boyfriend, small angry girlfriend.

` He plays with her hair on the weekends they get to sleep in.

` Didn't tell the others they were dating until a few months went by and they got caught kissing in Atlanta's room.

` Introduced Atlanta to Granny as his girlfriend and she instantly started referring to Atty as "My girl" or "My Atlanta" and saying things such as "My little Atlanta is the perfect lady for my grandson, keeps him safe.. Yes, I do love them both."

` Watches shitty romcoms and cackles like witches before mimicking them while giggling and choking on popcorn.

` The couple ever

` Carries her around at the wild life saftey protests, screams the loudest during the deforestation prevention rallies.

` Rough houses on days Herry isn't self conscious about hurting her, not afraid to chase each other through the rain and fall in puddles.

` She helps around on the farm, drives places for granny, the only person allowed to drive Herry's truck off mission,

` Atlanta loves when he calls her Atty or His lightning bolt, often refers to him in private as Her warrior

` Herry will drop everything to help Atlanta, especially if she's injured or worse.

` He's like a natural heater, so cuddles early in the morning are mandatory before they start any classes / training.

` Will find ways to sneak away from their mentors to walk through Athena's garden.

` Atlanta jokingly tells him he should do the Atalanta's footrace to win her heart, he takes it serious and actually trains to do it still to this day.

` Although Atlanta is a vegetarian/vegan, Herry still loves taking her out to meat themed restaurants (He never forces her to buy any meat, often pointing out which are vegan safe options on the menu.)

` Messy rooms, both of them, they play MK and the loser has to clean up both rooms. (They end up just helping whoever loses anyways.)

` The type of girlfriend to cover her boyfriend's eyes when she's losing in a video game.

` His lap is like a second seat to her, she casually sits in it whenever without realizing.

` Loves to prank the others together.

` Atlanta was scared of a relationship at first, but over time Herry carefully introduced the aspects of it to her; taking his time to let her adjust which she was grateful for.

` Cuts her hair for her so she doesn't have that spikey fuck ass bob.

` Get a puppy together and name him Zeus so that they can mess with the god.

` Talks to Theresa and Jay for advice but realizes their friends relationships aren't too stable and stop doing it.

THAT'S ALL FOLKS, HAVE A LOVELY NIGHT

[kris-mage-fics]

So there are some things that have been bothering me about Andromeda Six. For a quite a while I told myself I was overreacting, but the more I think about it the more convinced I'm not.

A lot of those things others have brought up before, and I think they have done a really good job of articulating those issues, so I'm not going to touch on them. (Like how heteronormative the game is.)

What I want to talk about is Bash's story line. Now I'm aware he used to have a drug addiction plot, I wasn't around when that was still a thing. From what I've gathered it took quite a while for that to be changed. While his new story line isn't racist, which is an improvement, I have a lot of issues with it. (My thoughts are under the cut since it's significant spoilers for Episodes 6 and 7.) This will be long! Also, I'm going to be mentioning ableism and chronic pain.

As we know, Bash took the events at the end of Episode 5 pretty hard. He decides that the way he can protect the people he cares about is to get more bionics. Sure, it may not be the best idea to make that choice in such an emotional state, but otherwise there is nothing wrong with it.

Now the game forces the Traveler to be fully against this idea. No option to say "hey, maybe revisit this idea when you aren't so upset to make sure it's what you really want to do." Which would be a totally reasonable response. The reasons we are given for the Traveler to be against it is because A) he can't physically feel anything and B) it will take away who he is and his humanity.

The idea that you can't feel anything with the bionics is fucking wild to me. Like you have such advanced medical tech, yet can't integrate the bionics into the existing nervous system?! How does the bionic work if it's isn't at least partly integrated? How do you know the right amount of pressure to use when lifting a glass verses using bolt cutters? It makes no fucking sense to me that you can't feel anything!

But the big issue here is the idea that it will take away part of who Bash is as a person and his humanity. Which is such a bullshit take! Yes I know other sci-fi and cyberpunk stories have this too, I always think it's terrible. (Originally in cyberpunk the issue with cybernetics wasn't 'loosing your humanity', it was 'having things that are owned by corporations implanted in us is a terrible idea'. In other words, it's a critique of unrestrained capitalism. By showing how allowing companies access to our physical bodies and control over medical issues gives them an absurd amount of power and will result in a lot of cruelty and inequality. Which is actually a really good take and something we should be wary of!)

Who we are as people can't be taken away because a limb is taken away or a cybernetic implant is added. This is an incredibly ableist idea. Are amputees less human or less themselves because of being an amputee? Fuck no! Are people who use prosthetics less themselves or less human? Again, fuck no! Yes, it takes time to adapt to changes in your body, but that doesn't make you less human or completely change who you are as a person. (Maybe comparing cybernetics/bionics to prosthetics isn't fair, but it's the closest we have. And in Bash's case, his bionics were essentially prosthetics at first.)

I don't use prosthetics and I'm not an amputee. I don't use mobility aids even though there are times I really should (now is not the time to go into why). But I have quite a few invisible physical disabilities, and live with a lot of pain 24/7. If I had the chance to exchange my body for a cybernetic one and didn't have to deal with the pain and other shit my body puts me through, I would in a heartbeat! Sure it would take a while to get used to the difference. But I wouldn't stop being human, or lose myself. Actually, I'd be happier because I wouldn't be in a lot of pain every second of my life! (This doesn't mean my current life isn't worth living. Just that it's hard and I'd be happier if it were easier.)

So in conclusion, this is an ableist story line and, in my opinion, part of it doesn't even make sense. The fact that the Traveler is forced to think this way drives me nuts! Also, did anyone else think it was kinda messed up that the Traveler talks to KY-L3 about it and he agrees with their take and agrees to talk to Bash? I feel like that oversteps some boundaries. Edit: I also found this excellent post by Cyrus the Cyborg about how frustrating it is for xem as an amputee to see this trope in cyberpunk and sci fi media.

[dingbatnix]

Venture

Chapter 7

Yeah not much to say here, other than the fact that I'm super excited. The story is finally gonna start picking up! Yes! Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 1

Chapter 6

Dream + Tommy reference

Word Count: 4,800 (exactly!)

Warnings: Spiders and yeah that's about it.

Tommy hit the ground hard. He managed to bring his arms up in time to cushion his head, at least, but his knees and chest and elbows cracked painfully against the unforgiving stone ground. The world swirled for several moments as his mind caught up with his body, and after about a minute or two, he pushed himself upright with a groan and a wheeze. His body hurt, accumulated scrapes and bruises throbbing in random intervals all throughout his skin.

Despite his aches and pains, the teen clambered back up on his feet. Tommy glanced behind himself, at the ledge he had fallen off, and grimaced. It was slanted heavily towards him, leaving an outcropping high above his head, and he didn’t think he’d be able to climb back up. In reality, it couldn’t have been higher than a foot or two, but when you were only three inches tall…

Tommy turned away from the cliff, assessing his options. There was a way forward, thankfully, a yawning void that spanned for what seemed miles and miles.

“Hello?” He called, and his voice echoed for a long, long time before it petered out. The teen swallowed, glanced back up at the ledge he had fallen from, then started walking again.

As before, he stuck close to the wall, occasionally brushing a hand against it to make sure he was going in the same direction. He didn’t know how long he walked in the never-ending darkness, but a gnawing hunger grew in the pit of his stomach, and his mouth was dry.

Tommy kinda wished that he had grabbed his quilt before he made a break for it. The cave system was cold, and his worn, stained shirt was not doing its job in keeping him warm. The fact that he was wearing shorts wasn't really helping, either. 

Up ahead, there was the faintest glow of light. Tommy picked up the pace despite his aching legs, eager to be able to see his surroundings. In his rush to reach the light, he may have tripped over stray rocks and scraped his bruised knees more than once, but nobody needed to know about that. 

Nobody needed to know that being alone, in the dark, was making him panic, just a little.

As Tommy grew closer to the light, he noticed shapes pushed up against the walls, lumps of crushed up rock, coals, and even a rusty old pickaxe that he had to climb over. He finally got close enough to see the area clearly, blearily blinking his eyes in the light and gazing at his surroundings.

Massive wooden beams were set into the walls, bracing against the thick stone. Impossibly high over his head hung massive lanterns, the source of the warm illumination, suspended from the wooden rafters. Tommy’s neck hurt if he stared at them too long, the angle painful and awkward, so he set his gaze back down.

Not too far away, the stone floor was set with wooden flooring, which gave Tommy little issues when he had to climb up the slight ledge the plank made. The flooring spanned the whole way along the tunnel, and there looked to be offshoots of tunnels spaced along the walls.

Was he in an abandoned mineshaft?!

If that was the case, then that meant that there had to be another way out. No human would have fit through the hole he’d crawled through, so that meant that Tommy had some hope of escaping this massive cave.

He eventually came up to a chest, over a dozen times his own height. He stared up at it with wide eyes before his expression darkened into a glare. There was no way he'd ever get it open on his own, no matter how much he wanted to see what was inside.

Something hissed behind him, making him jolt with a yelp. He whirled around, heart stopping at the sight of the massive arachnid creeping up behind him. Tommy shrieked and bolted, sprinting away from the gigantic spider. 

He could hear its legs clicking against the wooden planks of the floor as it skittered after him, which only spurred the blond to run faster. Tommy glanced over his shoulder and saw eight red eyes blinking one-by-one as it took casual steps after him. Tommy clenched his jaw. He wasn’t even fast enough to run away from the thing when it walked! How the fuck was he gonna survive when he couldn’t even outrun the damn thing?

His foot suddenly met air, and he fell for the second time that day, still screaming.

…

..

.

°°°°°°

Dream was…Dream was panicking, just a little bit. He had made a mistake, turning his gaze away from Tommy for just those few seconds to dig up a clump of yarrow (it was good for infections, and he liked to collect herbs he could use in place of healing and regeneration potions,) and in the next second, when he glanced over at the teen to check on him, he was gone.

He called out for the teen, and then cursed when he didn’t get an answer. He hadn’t heard any animals approach, nor any screams from a teenager being mauled by a raccoon or something. There weren’t any animal tracks that Dream could see, which meant only one thing. Either Tommy had wandered off, or he had run away. Dream was willing to bet the teen had done the latter. He didn’t seem like the type to just wander off without a purpose in mind.

The assassin swallowed down a swell of anxiety and crouched to the ground, scanning it for any sign of where Tommy had gone to. If he was lucky, he would catch up to the teen before anything bad happened. If not…Dream didn’t want to think about what would happen if not. He cared about Tommy, and he’d be crushed if anything happened to the loud-mouthed teenager.

It took him nearly an hour of meticulous nose-to-the-ground searching, but he finally found a trail of tiny, smallfolk sized footprints leading away into the undergrowth. From there, it didn’t take Dream long to follow them and find a small cliff blocking the path not even thirty meters away. There, the trail took an abrupt left turn along the wall for several paces, where it stopped at a crack in the stone about as wide as Dream’s hand. 

He crouched down on his hands and knees to peer inside of the crack, hoping that he would spot a miniature teenager huddled up inside, but he had no such luck. Instead, a gaping pit of darkness met his gaze, making Dream’s brow furrow behind his mask.

“Hello?” He called into the hole, voice echoing through the small entrance. “Tommy? Hello?” There wasn’t any answer other than the reverberation of his own words. Dream bit at his lip before shoving his arm into the hole. It didn’t get very far, about a third of the way up his forearm, and the rough edges of the stone caught on the wrap around his skin, but it was enough for Dream to tell that it opened up into a wide space behind the wall of stone.

Dream pulled his arm free and sat up, casting his gaze around in search of something to break the crack open further. He didn’t usually carry a pickaxe with him (he wasn’t exactly The Blade, he was more skilled with an axe or a sword) so he had to find something he could use in place of the aforementioned tool.

His eyes settled on a branch of a tree that looked sturdy enough, relatively thick along the whole length and low enough to the ground that Dream could break it off safely. He pushed himself to his feet and made his way over to the tree, reaching up to the branch and giving it an experimental tug. It didn’t budge, so Dream drew his sword and reared back, winding up to chop at the base of the branch. It took several heavy blows for the limb to be loose enough for Dream to break it off. He wiped the oozing tree sap from his blade, sheathed it, and snatched up the dismembered tree branch with a huff.

Dream wedged the thicker end of the branch into the crack and shoved against it, wood scraping against stone as he strained to break open the wall of the cliff. It only took a couple of harsh shoves to break the crack open wider, and then it was only a matter of leveraging the branch against the edges to make the hole large enough for him to squeeze through.

The assassin dropped the somewhat-mangled branch to the side, panting slightly, and ducked inside of the gaping, dark hole he had made. It took a bit of shimmying, but he managed to stumble out through the other side into an open space. He wrinkled his nose, breathing in the familiar scent of stale, musty cave air. He wasn’t a fan of being underground. It brought up unpleasant memories that he’d rather not dwell on.

He rummaged in one of his pockets for a moment before bringing out a torch and lighting it in one swift motion with the flint. Light flared up, flickering and illuminating the relatively large cavern. Dream examined the ground, searching for any more obvious trails to follow.

Unfortunately, Dream’s demolition of the stone wall had erased any evidence of anything passing through the cave. The flickering torch light wasn’t helping either, casting down shadows that danced and jittered against the jagged rock of the ground.

Humming slightly, Dream straightened and glanced around. He could always try calling out again…

He did so, voice echoing in the small cavern, worry evident in his tone even though he tried to suppress it. "Tommy? Hey, are you in here?”

The faintest echo of a scream was the only thing he got in reply, bouncing off of the walls and piercing into Dream’s ears. The sound, barely even a whisper, broke the heavy silence of the cavern and spurred the man into motion, legs already striding towards the origin of the noise. Worry flared in his chest, and he actively had to stop himself from sprinting through the cavern, lest he run past Tommy, or worse, run him over.

As he walked, the evidence of past mining began to appear. Lanterns illuminated the way, thick support beams braced into the walls, planks of wood bridging across gaps and ravines, even the occasional abandoned minecart or chest passed by as he moved. A part of Dream wanted to stop and search through the chests for any forgotten valuables, but he pushed that part of his mind aside. Finding Tommy was exponentially more important, especially since the teen might be in danger.

A short dropoff spanning a few feet ended the path abruptly, and Dream slid to a halt, glancing down at the short ledge. Down below, a massive tangle of spiderwebs was strung out between the stone walls, blocking the way forward in a sticky, inconvenient mass. Had Tommy slipped past the webs…? Shit. If the teen was in immediate danger, it would take Dream too long to cut through all of the spider silk to get to him in time.

“Tommy…? Can you hear me?” Dream called out, searching for the least dense section of webbing. He could burn the silk, if he needed to, but he’d use that as a last resort. If Tommy was underneath the mass of webs, that would only end badly.

“Dream!” A tiny, breathless voice shrieked, so close that it made the man startle. Dream sucked in a gasp, eyes searching for the source of the small noise. Tommy? But where the hell was he? All he could see were the spiderwebs, bathed in an orange-yellow glow from his flickering torch and the distant amber light of the lanterns overhead. 

It took him longer than he’d like to admit, but finally, his eyes settled on what must have been Tommy. The poor teen was so tangled and twisted in a mass of webbing that he blended in with it, clumps of sticky silk globbed up around his tiny limbs and body. Dream breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Tommy!” He called down, sinking down to his knees to get a closer look at the borrower’s predicament. He braced his free hand against the edge of the drop, bringing his torch down closer to Tommy’s position to see him better. “Are you alright?”

Tommy’s miniature face was screwed up in panic, and he writhed, tangling himself even more in the spider’s silk. “Do you fucking think I’m alright? I’m fucking stuck, and there’s giant spiders down here!” His voice was shrill and full of terror, and his breathing seemed short. 

Dream chewed at his lip again, already trying to puzzle out a way to get down to Tommy. The teen was too far down for Dream to reach, so he’d have to drop down into the pit of webs. He grimaced.

“Stay there, I’ll get you out. Just give me a moment,” he assured the teen, who shot him a dirty look. “Where the fuck am I gonna go? The market? I can’t move, you twat!”

Dream bit back the grin that formed at the blond’s remark and shifted so that he was sitting on the edge of the drop. His torch was set down on the edge, slightly hanging over the precipice to provide light. Dream slung his legs down, sitting on the ledge, and eased himself down until his feet met the ground. There was some resistance as his boots broke through the spiderwebs, but he weighed more than enough to easily snap through the thin strands. It was moving through them that was going to be the problem. 

The webs came up to about mid-thigh, sticky strands immediately clinging to his pants and boots. Dream grimaced, pulling out his sword and slashing through the webs in front of his path. Tommy was just a few feet to the side, so it wouldn’t take long to reach the teen.

“Dream!” Tommy yelped suddenly, and there was the slightest shff of movement behind him. The assassin’s body reacted before his mind could. His sword was buried in the black exoskeleton of the spider’s body before he realized, instantly killing the arachnid. Its eight legs twitched in its final throes, and then it fell still.

“Damn,” Dream murmured, yanking his sword from the spider’s carapace with a sickening crack. He shook the blood from his sword while holding back a gag. He wasn’t a big fan of spiders, either, big or small.

Further down the mineshaft, a cacophony of angry hissing echoed, and dozens of furious red eyes flickered open. Dream choked, eyes widening as the sound of many, many legs skittered into the light from various cracks and crevices in the walls. Crap! They needed to get out of the cave!

He lunged for Tommy, wrapping his fingers around the teen’s little body and yanking him free, webs and all. Tommy screeched in surprise, struggling in Dream’s fist, but the assassin was too preoccupied with the wave of spiders skittering towards them to care.

Dream thought fast, heart pounding and adrenaline rushing through his veins. He had a pocket, a very, very safe pocket on the inside of his cloak that he could put Tommy in, but he didn't think he'd have the time. The spiders were barely a dozen yards away, and we're closing in fast.

One of the forerunners of the pack, faster than the rest by a mile, broke free of the group and charged at them. It hissed, red eyes blinking one-by-one as Dream leveled his sword at it, a ferocious expression decorating his face underneath the mask. The arachnid made a false lunge, Dream's sword swiping the air where one of its legs had been moments prior.

Dream curled his fingers a little more securely around Tommy’s small, fragile form and backed up a pace, bringing his hand closer to his chest. Shit. He did not want to fight while he had Tommy in his hands.

Webbing tangled and clung to the backs of his legs as he stepped further away, slowing him down an alarming amount. Dream bit his lip, tossing a quick glance at the ledge behind himself. It shouldn’t be too hard to climb…

The sharp hiss of another spider growing closer spurred him into action. He turned and threw first his sword, then, much more gently, Tommy, onto the ledge that rose an arm's length above his head. The web-bound teenager shrieked, unable to even flail as he fell the short distance through the air and hit the stone ground.

Just as he felt spindly claws snag his boot, Dream leapt and caught the edge of the rock, scrambling wildly to clamber upwards, hooking his elbows over the shelf of stone and heaving his body upwards. Tommy came into view, nearly directly underneath Dream, and the man had to throw himself to the side before he hit the ground and crushed the miniature teenager. His shoulder hit the stone first, a dull impact that would leave a slight bruise in the morning. 

Dream rolled onto his back, shooting a hurried look back at the dropoff. Already, black, shining claws were poking up over the edge of the drop. Dream scrambled to his feet, snatching Tommy from the ground in one hand and grabbing his sword in the other, then took off in a dead sprint, mind already whirling with plans. He could head back to the entrance he had made in the side of the cliff, but the gap was small, and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to squeeze through it in time. On the other hand, he didn't know how likely the possibility of finding the mine entrance would be.

The appearance of more cave spiders crawling out from one of the side tunnels in front of them made his decision for him. Dream shoved his sword into its scabbard with little regard for the strands of webbing still clinging to it and booked it through one of the paths on the side of the wall, sprinting away from the sounds of the two masses of spiders crashing into each other.

Dream spared a glance down at Tommy, worried. The teen had been cursing the whole way, wriggling and trying to break free of the spider silk wrapped around his body. The blond seemed fine, but Dream was still incredibly worried. A bite from a cave spider, while non-lethal to bigger folk like himself, would be fatal to an inchling. He had to hurry.

The entrance of the old tunnel spewed out at him suddenly, the bright wash of light nearly blinding him. Dream threw his free arm in front of his face and dove through the opening, blinking rapidly to try and get his eyes to adjust. He didn't stop running for a good long while, wanting to put some distance between himself and the cave.

“Fuck,” Dream finally groaned as he stumbled to a stop. He slapped his free hand over the eyes of his mask and slumped against the rough bark of a tree, chest heaving. Despite his wishes, his hands were shaking, and he couldn't get them to stop. Dream hated being underground, more than anything in the world, and the adrenaline and fear induced by the spiders had done him no favors.

Taking in several deep, calming breaths, he turned his attention to Tommy, who was cursing up a storm and still attempting to struggle out of the mass of cobwebs that were roping his limbs together. Dream brought his curled hand away from his chest and flattened out his palm, scrutinizing the blond to make sure he didn't have any injuries. When he was satisfied that the teen was fine other than a few new scrapes and bruises, it was like a switch was flipped, and a hot seed of anger sparked in his stomach.

"Don't run off like that! You could've died, Tommy!" Dream scolded as he oh-so-gently picked at the gossamer strands that bound the teen. Tommy sent a displeased scowl up at Dream's mask, little hands shoving angrily at the human's fingertips

"Well, nobody told me that there would be huge-ass motherfucking spiders wandering around!" He snapped, grabbing a strand of webbing with his free hand and yanking at it. It didn't even budge, souring his mood even further. Dream's lips twitched beneath his mask, and he nudged the teen's hands away from the webs with a careful fingertip.

While Tommy groused and grumbled, Dream worked to pull the sticky silk away from his body. After several minutes of meticulous work, Tommy was web free. Dream still had webbing that clung to the backs of his legs, but he'd worry about that later. It's not like it would inhibit him like it inhibited Tommy.

“I've told you not to run off. You should know, most of all, how dangerous everything can be for somebody your size.” Dream chided, lifting his hand up to his shoulder. Without a word, Tommy leapt from his palm and latched onto the fabric of his turtleneck. Dream tried not to twitch at the feeling of tiny limbs tickling at his skin. 

"The spiders would have ignored you, anyway. You're too little for them to bother eating." Dream grunted, pushing away from the tree and gingerly stepping through the underbrush of the forest. He didn't recognize where they currently were, but that would be fine. He could figure that out later.

“So I would’ve just starved to death in the webs, that’s so fucking reassuring, Dream,” Tommy grumbled, sliding down against the human’s neck and settling against the arch of muscle connecting the human’s head to his shoulders.

Dream sighed, rolling his eyes and turning his gaze to the sky. “It’s getting late. I’m, I’m gonna go ahead and strike up a camp. I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking tired.”

Tommy couldn’t help but agree with the bigger man’s statement. Failed escape attempt aside, the day had been rather exhausting in its own right. Tommy wanted to wrap himself in his quilt and doze off, but unfortunately, it was still in Dream’s satchel, far, far out of reach for the tiny teenager.

It took Dream maybe five minutes to find a good place to build a fire and begin cooking their dinner. Tommy stayed seated on the man’s shoulder, clinging to the side of his neck by the fabric of his shirt. The teen was about ready to drop dead, right then and there from the fatigue of the day. Too much stress and anxiety in too few hours, he figured.

Absent-mindedly, Dream reached towards the blond to pluck him up from his shoulder. Tommy stumbled back with a yell, shoulders hitched up and arms thrown up in front of his face in a readily defensive position. The massive hand faltered at Tommy’s sudden reaction, and the line of Dream’s back slumped down as he realized that he’d scared the teen. Again.

“I have…you-sized swords, if that would make you feel better,” The human offered, slowly pulling his hand away from Tommy. Tommy perked up immediately at the offer, before suspicion clouded his face. He squinted up at Dream, but was unable to discern anything past the blank smile on his mask. 

“Why do you have so much smallfolk stuff?!” He snapped, punching the side of Dream’s neck in a sudden flare of outrage. The skin beneath the dark fabric twitched, and Tommy scowled. “Normal people barely even fucking know we exist, and yet here you are, pockets full of items you shouldn’t have, not even the slightest bit curious about me or my kind, what we are, and what we fucking do. That’s not a goddamn normal response, Dream!”

Tommy was shaking, heart thrumming in his chest for about the third time that day. Many more of the ways Dream just was had been bothering him for a while, and he took the opportunity to spew his frustrations out at the human. At the very least, he was getting the words off of his chest.

"Um, well…" Dream trailed off, glancing up at the dusking sky, then slowly, he brought his hand up to his shoulder in front of Tommy, palm flat. “C’mon, let me set you down first.” He murmured, fingers twitching absently. Tommy frowned but obliged anyway, carefully hopping from his perch on Dream’s shoulder and onto the gloved palm. Tommy nodded when Dream asked if he was ready, the human settling down on the ground in front of the fire before lowering his hand to the dirt beside himself to let Tommy down as well. 

"I like to help you guys, y'know? Like, if I come across one of you in trouble, I'll help 'em out." Dream finally started with a small shrug. "And sometimes they give me stuff, and others…" He paused, before continuing morosely. "Sometimes I get there too late."

"Why, though? What good does it do you?" Tommy demanded, plopping down on the ground and crossing his legs. He crossed his arms and puffed his chest out, sending a firm look up at the towering form of the older man.

Dream's body seemed to loosen, and his voice went sad and vacant. "I…I had a friend, once. A smallfolk friend. A long time ago. He—I-I, uhm…" Dream bowed his head, looking to the side. "I-I'm hoping that I'll maybe find him again. One day. H-hopefully." The human fell silent, staring solemnly at the dirt and grass of the forest floor. The muted crackling of the fire filled the strangely mournful air, leaving Tommy to stew in the new piece of information.

Dream had a smallfolk friend…? He opened his mouth to say something, then, glancing back up at Dream's bowed figure, thought better of it and closed his jaw, pensively turning back to the brightly burning fire.

Considering, well, everything, it did make sense. The way the man behaved, the gentle, well-practiced manner he had when he had to pick Tommy up or walk with the teen on his shoulder, even his actions when Tommy was freaking out just a little too badly, everything pointed to a great deal of experience with smallfolk.

The teen could even accept the fact that the smallfolk items had been gifts and… findings that weren’t forcefully taken. Despite the fact that some of the belongings obviously hadn’t been willingly parted with (Tommy’s quilt came to mind, that thing was way too valuable to simply give away) the idea that the previous owners had passed, while still upsetting, was more comforting for Tommy to think about that the fact that maybe Dream had killed them himself.

Tommy exhaled silently from his nose, clasping his hands over his mouth and gazing into the bright, dazzling light of the fire. If…If Dream was telling the truth, then Tommy shouldn’t have to worry about being safe around the man. Tommy would really, really like that to be the case. He was tired of being scared, of Dream, of other bigfolk, of the world. If Dream was a good’un, and Tommy dearly hoped he was, maybe…maybe he wouldn't have to worry so much.

Maybe Tommy could get back home…

…

He did end up getting a sword from Dream. The human even spent a few hours teaching him how to use it (most of which Tommy already knew, thank you very much!) and had promised to continue the lessons in the future. Tommy had been ecstatic, swinging the inch-long blade with a slightly-less-than practiced hand. He’d never actually owned a sword before, (they’d never had any small enough) but he’d practiced enough with splinters of wood and slivers of metal to know how to wield it.

The sun had set, not too long after that, and Dream told them that they needed to get to bed. Tommy had agreed, physically and mentally exhausted from the day’s trials. Dream had held open his satchel for the teen, and closed it securely behind him after Tommy stepped inside. In the warm, nearly oppressive darkness, Tommy found his quilt and sank to the ground, already half asleep by the time he managed to drag the blanket up over his shoulders.

Outside there were the sounds of Dream settling down for the night, the slight sound of the movements amplified by the giant of a man that was causing them. 

Tommy drifted off, lulled to sleep by the drag of gravity, the heavy, rhythmic whoosh of Dream’s breathing and the low, muffled sounds of the night critters outside.

Taglist:

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[waheelawhisperer]

What was the worst ccompetitive gen in your honest opinion and what exactly did go wrong?

also, can you elaborate your opinion on generation gimmicks like mega evolutions and so on?

Gen 1 is by far the worst by any reasonable metric because only Italians enjoy playing Fish For Freeze Fish For Para PP Stall Fish For Crit: The Meta, but in terms of gens played by actual humans, it's gotta be either Gen 5 or Gen 7. Gen 5 went wrong by not banning perma-weather, which forced the competitive metagame to revolve around Rain, Sand, and Sun for years (this was so bad that Gen 6 nerfed weather abilities so that they only lasted for 5 turns) and also led to a whole bunch of shit being broken in its own right (weather-related abilities like Swift Swim, Chlorophyll, and Sand Rush put massive strains on teambuilding because you either had to run your own weather or specific defensive answers to counter them, not to mention Rain specifically gave access to 100% accurate Thunder/Hurricane and mitigated 4x weaknesses to Fire for Pokemon like Scizor and Ferrothorn).

Gen 7 had Z-moves and went wrong by not banning them. Z-moves broke a crapton of offensive Pokemon by letting them muscle through normal checks and counters (the example I like to give is Latias in SM UU, which would normally have been walled by most Steels since Hidden Power Fire did negative damage to anything that wasn't Scizor, but instead you could just slap Z-Thunder onto your moveset and kill every fucking Steel that wasn't Bronzong, and depending on meta shifts you could just run Z-Surf or Z-Shadow Ball instead. It didn't matter which one you picked as long as you got solid neutral coverage on Scizor and super-effective coverage on whatever other defensive Steel was most prominent, though Thunder(bolt) was usually the best option).

Mega Evolution: Fine, I'm not a huge fan personally but the limitations kept them from being broken (you can only Mega Evolve one Pokemon per battle and they have to hold a specific item).

Z-moves: Broken bullshit that never should've been introduced.

Dynamax: Even more broken bullshit that never should've been introduced. This is the only time in 4 generations that Smogon has banned a main generational gimmick.

Terastalization: Not as broken or as bullshit as Dynamax, but still broken bullshit. Not banning it will make Gen 9 worse.