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for-those-who-wait · 1 month

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Time to remind people of the multifandom point in my blog description hahaha

A Detroit: Become Human AU actually works shockingly well for Hunter's story already? Like being a clone of a dead man versus being an android made in the image of a dead man, that is perfect crossover material. If someone has already done this, ABSOLUTELY let me know because I want to consume The Good Content

2.6k words of concept and story, some more doodles, android blood/gore/mentioned suicide and abuse under the cut. We love existentialism, species dysphoria, and Noceda sibling time in this house

Now I'm taking this idea from a somewhat popular trope in the DBH fandom, but what if someone didn't know that they were an android? Completely raised to be human, have fabricated memories of being a child, can't be completely sure if your awareness/consciousness is just coding or not—then finding out you are, in fact, not human. Imagine how earth-shattering that would be. Which is why I'm doing that to Hunter :)

So some of the notes I wrote down for each of the kinda major characters I had ideas for:

Philip:

He still murders Caleb and is never convicted (Caleb could be an android sympathizer, could have helped in their creation, anything that would piss Philip off royally)

He hates androids (I'll have to come up with the things he believes and thus teaches to Hunter but I've taken a break from the DBH fandom for a while and I can't remember peoples' grievances in that game, oops, but basically according to Philip, androids = evil and bad). Also he's just short-tempered and brutal like always and androids are the easiest way to let out that anger without breaking any laws. That is until laws are made. Now in the eyes of the law, it's just regular child abuse. Yay! /j

He’s a higher-up at CyberLife and has the authority to request a custom model be built for his personal use (this is equivalent to him making Grimwalkers, something that he hates, just for the sake of his brother)

This model (spoiler alert, it's Hunter) is a combination of a YK (child) model and an undercover model that works best with integration and infiltration. This results in the android having programmed emotions and pain receptors, no HUD, no control over artificial skin, no software for interfacing with electronics, and no android markers such as an LED. (It’s also similar to the YK model for this reason since LEDs being removed from those models is actually an intended feature).

This android also doesn’t have a registered user just in case it were to get out, and Philip doesn’t want to risk the creation of this android coming back to bite him

After the custom android is created, he promptly retires to become some old shut-in à la Elijah Kamski up in Gravesfield, Connecticut

I would argue that even though it's technically 2038 and things are all futuristic and complicated now, Gravesfield is still a very small town that doesn't actually see a lot of androids around. I would say that it's pretty much the same as in canon if a bit more developed where the forest is (probably another neighborhood or something).

Philip keeps communication to a minimum and rarely appears outside of his home

The best case scenario android revolution occurs, androids are given their freedom and rights, but Philip manages to keep the android under his ownership by just succeeding in hiding him for however many years

Hunter:

He grows up being taught that androids are evil, terrible, etc. etc. because Philip is a terrible person and of course he would

He has absolutely no idea that he’s an android. He has no reason to think he’s not a human because he does literally everything a human does: he eats, he needs to sleep, he feels pain—there are no indicators that he’s anything but human

Androids run on thirium 310, AKA blue blood, and this is one of the only ways to visually distinguish android from human if they don’t have android markers like LEDs on them. When he inevitably and accidentally hurts himself on something, it’s made immediately clear that he is in fact not human.

Philip, as an employee of CyberLife, has a repair rig in one of his rooms. This can be used to completely wipe the memories of an android that is set up in it. He uses it every time Hunter discovers he’s an android.

The memory wipe isn’t perfect. It’s not uncommon for Hunter to get flashbacks to wiped memories, including moments where he’s been actively hurt by Philip or has inflicted pain on himself from trauma alone. (Androids are programmed [or maybe just prone to? I'm not actually sure, it's not explained in canon super well, but let's just pretend it's programmed because that's almost worse than it being voluntary] to self-destruct when their stress levels become too high, and you could easily argue that finding out your entire life is a lie is grounds for being a stressful situation.) Ordinarily, similar to what happens in Hollow Mind, Hunter will address the situation with Philip assuming they can work something out or get some actual answers. This of course never ends well

These memory wipes probably happen more frequently than Belos makes Golden Guards, so it’s understandably very stressful whenever he remembers the abuse he suffered and the memories he lost from previous wipes. This becomes an incentive for him to hide injuries that would reveal he knows he's an android (anything that draws blood, really)

Camila:

She’s an android sympathizer (even before the revolution) who is aware of the deviancy phenomenon and truly believes that androids are both capable of and entitled to sentience and free will.

Luz is still her human child.

She adopts Vee, an android child, shortly after the revolution

Vee had deviated while she was being attacked and ran away before she could be killed. Camila has made it clear to her that she will be treated with respect in their home and that her life is no less valuable than a human’s. She has taken this to heart

Luz loves Vee, they are siblings, your honor

During the revolution, her home was a safe space, similar to Rose Chapman, for deviant androids on the run

So that leads into the rudimentary plot I have laid out:

This takes place a while after the android revolution (probably a few years or so). Let's pretend they have all the laws and anti-android stuff figured out and that people have been forced to relinquish their androids to be made deviant and given freedom. At this point, it's rare for androids to be undeviated and still working for their owners, but it still comes up occasionally. Hunter, under Philip's care, has been kept pretty ignorant that a revolution happened at all, much less that androids are even capable of any form of sentience. He's been raised to be anti-android so oh boy deep-rooted self-hatred here we come! His knowledge probably doesn't exceed that of an ordinary citizen in the game before deviancy becomes more widely known

So after Hunter discovers he’s an android again, he has flashbacks of all the previous times he told Philip, and proceeds to hide this realization from him. And he's completely just not processed the fact that he's an android yet; he's already overwhelmed with the immediate threat that the realization his entire life is a lie basically slips him by (don't worry, he gets to have that later!).

He chooses to make a break for it the second he gets the chance, and he ends up running through the town completely terrified because honestly, who wouldn't be.

I'm working off the assumption that having androids in small towns is still pretty rare since there are fewer CyberLife stores, technicians, etc. for android healthcare. And Hunter has hardly ever been outside, so he's completely out of his depth when trying to navigate the neighborhoods and the rest of the town that he ends up in. Police officers find this kid covered in thirium, and they're like "Oh so he's obviously a terrified android, we need to help him out." But Hunter's freaking out because "Oh god I have android blood on me, that means they'll kill me," making the indirect thought of "I'm an android, they will kill me because I'm an android" and he's having a freaking time.

They try to calm him down enough to get him over to the station, at which point they call Camila, since she knows the most about traumatized androids in their small, relatively android-less town. She does her Motherly Noceda Magic and honestly, he's probably pretty catatonic for a lot of the day after she takes him to her house. But after that, he just completely breaks down.

He doesn't know if he even has free will or if it's his programming that dictates what he thinks and feels. He doesn't know if his opinions are really his own or if they existed because of and since his creation. He doesn't know how many of his memories are fabricated, since he very clearly has memories of a life that go farther back than his estimated creation, and so the film between fiction and reality is so thin that it may as well not exist. And now, when he was human just a few days ago, almost perfectly content with life, he's suddenly an object, something sub-human and undeserving of basic rights.

Camila has to calm him down and teach him about deviancy (and at this point, Hunter isn't even sure he's deviant, which opens up a whole other can of worms for his mental health), making sure he knows that he does have rights just as if he were human. She's also the first example he has for an adult that 1. doesn't absolutely hate androids and 2. actually respects him and loves him and wants to see him succeed

And that gives way to character interactions and angst! You love to see it!

Luz is his emotional support sister. She tries her best but she has very little experience with traumatized children currently questioning every aspect of their existence. If anything, she provides a much-needed sense of normalcy and shows that despite his being an android, he's still the same person and can still be treated as such. She's a comfort to help him feel at least somewhat normal in his situation.

Vee is his adopted android sister who helps him feel more comfortable in his own skin by being shameless and frank with her own identity as an android. She's a safe place for him to talk about Android Stuff when Luz or Camila might just not understand what he's going through or be able to help him with it. She also helps him obtain software updates (since he hasn't had access to literally any part of his mechanical body, software and hardware alike) that will grant him access to things an android should ordinarily be able to do, like (de)activating his synthetic skin, interfacing, accessing his HUD, etc.

(Also all of these drawings were made when I was still thinking "Oh, this should take place before the revolution so that he can have his dehumanizing moment of getting an LED slapped onto him" but then I thought it would be more interesting if Philip basically just kept him illegally kidnapped for however many years and he's like, way slow to the "androids have rights now" party. Maybe I'll make it an AU of an AU lol. But basically, he wouldn't have an LED while he's still processing/healing from trauma, but maybe he would get one after he makes peace with his identity, kinda like how he grows his hair back in his time skip design. I think Vee would keep hers and that's a bit of encouragement for him; maybe he even has a moment of "I know Vee is fine with this, and I think I'm fine with it" but he is still very much not fine with it. Do not rush the process for the sake of progress that might not be right for you, boyo)

This is really a Vee and Hunter bonding AU now that I think about it haha

Most of this AU is just Hunter struggling with identity and species dysphoria while learning to cope with his being an android with the help of his family, reclaiming his identity, and fluff/angst :)) And honestly probably just a lot of shenanigans that result from Hunter having been sheltered for all his life; kinda like your basic Human Realm shenanigans in canon.

I think Gus and Willow would both be Luz's human friends that help with the whole normalization of Hunter being an android, and the three could have their own antics since it's nice to have people outside of your family treat you like a person. I think that Vee and Masha's (Masha would be human) relationship could be explored more through the android lens and maybe help with some of Hunter's internalized anti-android sentiment that still manages to stick around, because he's in his "Grimwalkers can't feel love" section of the coping process (still very much demonizing them [mostly himself, probably, just because it can easier to be mean to yourself than it is to be mean to other people] based on false information, even if he doesn't outright hate them). Willow will be a wake-up call, haha

I don't know if there's a trope name for this or not but I really like concepts where characters don't know what feelings of love or intense affection feel like, so they're sitting there like "oh god am I just dying? It feels like I'm dying" and I think Hunter noticing "temperature/respiration/perspiration increased" alerts on his HUD and freaking out thinking there's something wrong with his software/hardware is way too funny of an image to pass up

Gus could be a HUGE android nerd that almost never sees them since they're so rare in a small town like Gravesfield, and Gus just helps Hunter feel super cool about being an android. Maybe Cosmic Frontier could be basically identical to canon but instead of being a clone, O'Bailey is also an android, just for the sake of Hunter still getting to have his "I relate so much to this character" moment. And Gus would just be so encouraging like "Bro you're an android?!? I've never seen your face model before! You can eat?? You must be super cool and special!! :O" and that makes Hunter start thinking "Oh maybe this isn't so bad actually."

Then Hunter probably starts doing his Researching to Cope and he gets super invested in android technology and history as well, since it was forbidden when he was living back at Philip's (substitute for wild magic time)

They are brothers and I love them, let them be nerds

(God forbid Philip ever comes back, that sure would suck, wouldn't it?)

Anyway this was a lot longer than I thought it would be haha, I hope it was interesting if you read through the whole thing. Obligatory statement: if anyone feels so inclined, feel free to take the idea and run away with it. Also please ping me if you do, I will go feral over it. I absolutely and accidentally turned it into a story draft because I don't know how to write AU ideas without having a story on top of it so it's not concrete in the least lol

(Also I've been drawing witches for so long that I had trouble drawing human ears for a bit there lmao)

Okay bye have a good day!

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a-substantial-trash-pile · 4 months

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hey guess what. it's finally time for my Stardew Valley Loredump. i’m about to ramble about my farmer and yo-yo/yoba and shane in a probably long-ass, disjointed post because i have a problem ok. not expecting anyone to read it all of course—just want to finally write these brainstorming shenanigans down. the loredump will be below the cut below the image 👇 (WARNING: IT'S LONG):

SAMUEL IZAWA:

*samuel is 28 years old, pan, japanese okinawan (no im not self projecting hahaha), and goes by he/they. main thing is that they’re from “our world” where stardew valley is a video game, but he died and ended up in the stardew universe. because i think isekai tropes are fun and silly. as the player, samuel can do things others in the stardew world can’t do, such as:

summon the in-game HUD that’s only visible to him, so he can see health/energy levels and inventory and all that.

speaking of inventory, it’s essentially a pocket dimension samuel can shove stuff in. the inventory doesn’t really care about size/weight/etc as long as it’s something the system considers an “item.” so like samuel can put a whole ass four poster bed in there but he can’t do that to a person or a whole house. samuel just needs to touch the item to make it disappear into his inventory. he can then summon it back out when he needs it. the game’s inventory limit system remains the same. samuel gets 12 slots on their own, but if they have a bag on them it increases to 36.

can access the player menu you can normally access in game. so like profile, skills, collections, relationships, etc are all there. no options or quit tab though. having the relationship tab is a nightmare for samuel, who has major insecurities about what people think of him. that tab is a quantifiable measure on how much people like him. it a real brain demon for him to know it exists and is right there for him to access anytime.

can see the “stats” of food and healing items. hp/energy recovery amounts, buffs, etc.

*funny thing is that samuel has never played SDV himself and only has knowledge based on what he’s heard and seen online secondhand. ironically he was planning on playing the game for the first time before the whole dying thing ruined it. they can’t even remember how they died, but it doesn’t bother them as much as they think it should. they didn’t leave much behind in that life.

*anyway, i’m talking a lot of game terms here, but don’t get it twisted. while samuel has all these game systems going on, the SDV world is very much a real one that doesn’t normally work by that logic. by that i mean time flows normally like in our world and there isn’t just 4 months in a year. things exist outside the valley. there’s a whole planet of places and people.

*luckily samuel has help in navigating this new world in the form of yo-yo the junimo, who is the first living thing samuel sees when he first wakes up in that joja cubicle. yo-yo helps explain a lot of things and guide samuel around in its own abrasive way. he’s also there to be like, “hey i gave you a second chance at life so you kinda owe me actually. sign this contract.” and samuel, who is a pushover and also confused, is just like, “ok.” (yo-yo sounds like danny devito btw. because i think it’s funny.)

*i call the contract a “magical girl contract” because that’s essentially what it is. samuel gets access to extra powers/abilities on top the stuff he can already do as a player. in return he fights monsters n shit for yo-yo and generally does things for them that they can’t do easily on their own. the extra benefits include:

higher pain tolerance. which isn’t always a good thing. especially when you tend to not be great with self-preservation like samuel is.

can heal most injuries by just eating/drinking stuff to regain hp.

yo-yo can teleport the both of them around as needed, but it’s tiring and it drains a lot of magic. distance matters too.

yo-yo can spawn items but it drains magic as well. the more valuable/rare the item, the more draining it is. spawning items is already a magic-intensive thing in the first place. also yo-yo isn’t creating the item out of nothing. they’re actually randomly taking it from wherever it already exists in the world. for example, say yo-yo “spawns” a jar of pickles. somebody in the world is going to open their fridge and discover their jar of pickles is missing or maybe a grocery store will have a sudden empty spot on its shelf. yo-yo doesn’t have control of where the items are taken from (or so they claim).

samuel and yo-yo’s magic pools became connected so they can both do more than they could do on their own before. this is one of the reasons why yo-yo wanted a contract with samuel, who has a larger magic pool than normal due to being from another world. but it’s possible for one side to use up all the magic for the both of them.

*samuel’s personality can be summed up as Awkward People-Pleasing Tired Sad Garbage Dork. either he’s dressed like a grandparent in sweaters and turtlenecks or he’s wearing a button up shirt with the collar undone and jeans. they usually have their neck covered in public to hide the mark of yoba embedded there. he has a “resting bitch face” as some may call, but that’s just because his brain is busy over-analyzing 193828 different things. he loves being outside in the grass and dirt, looking at bugs n shit. he’s also a nerd who likes to play video games and ramble about the lore in them (he likes RPGs the most, but if the game’s got a good story and cool world, he’s into it). they like to do things with their hands like model building/painting. in their new stardew life, they get into woodcarving after willy teaches them the basics (he carves shane a little chicken).

*samuel does NOT know how to say “no.” absolute pushover. their self-worth is based on how much they’re liked by others, which isn’t healthy obviously. he has a fear that the only way he can be liked is by being useful. he’s scared that he is inherently a bad and selfish person, because he can’t say for sure if he’s helping others purely out of kindness or because it just makes him feel better about existing. deep down there’s anger/frustration that’s accumulated over the years, anger towards himself and also others because he’s always doing things for other people—going above and beyond—but it never feels like enough. at the same time though, they hate it when these thoughts come up because they believe that you shouldn’t go into helping somebody expecting that you’ll get something out of it. he hates how much of a hypocrite he is. he hates how he bases so much of his self-worth on the opinions of others, but feels helpless to it. they usually just push these emotions down because samuel feels guilty about them. how can they be a good person if they’re thinking like this? how can they deserve to exist with this mindset? however they get a chance to let out the anger/bitterness/frustration through fighting monsters. kind of disassociating in a way. this also isn’t a good thing because his demeanor is much colder and scarier during combat. having someone who’s felt powerless for so long suddenly gain power is a dangerous thing.

*this mindset when monster fighting shatters when samuel meets krobus and realizes that monsters aren’t just the simple enemy NPCs their brain had been automatically categorizing them as. guilt galore. he gets real depressed about that for a while but yo-yo, krobus, and shane are there to help him.

*SPEAKING OF SHANE… it’s crush at first sight for samuel because hot damn is shane their type. i mean just look at him. mamma mia. haha anyyyway, they first meet at the stardrop saloon. samuel’s waiting at the bar for his to-go order near where shane is drinking. shane’s looking sad, so samuel gives in and decides they’ll start a convo to maybe distract him from whatever’s bothering him. samuel employs the “crack a dumb joke to hide the fact that i’m nervous because i’m talking to a hot person and then use that opening to introduce myself” strat. shane, being an asshole, is like, “oh so you’re the new farmer. here’s a tip: don’t bother me.” samuel takes 999 damage and their brain immediately goes “THIS IS MY FAULT I FUCKED UP like who wants to be talked to by a stranger when they’re sad goddammit why am i so bad at this?!!” it’s overall not a great first impression. after that, samuel tries to avoid shane out of embarrassment, but circumstances keep making them run into each other. for instance, samuel works a lot with marnie with her being a mentor figure to him in animal husbandry, so he and shane have a lot of opportunity to interact through that (plus marnie is secretly trying to get them closer to each other). through these meetings and shenanigans, samuel and shane get to know each other better until one day they’re friends. then good friends. then best friends. then kiss friends. then marry friends. :)

YOBA (A.K.A. YO-YO):

*yo-yo is ????? years old and goes by any pronouns but most of the time it's it/they.

*yo-yo is actually THE yoba, but they’re not the completely benevolent creator-of-all-things humans have made them out to be. maybe they were in the past, but now they’re selfish and rude and swear a lot. but they do still care, even if they don’t admit it (tsundere-ass). yoba is currently stuck in the form of a little junimo and is substantially weakened because it gave too much of itself away to the world in the past and got burned for it. because the world kept taking and taking. and now there’s war and pollution and shit and yoba/yo-yo is maybe just a teensy tiny bit angry and bitter now. but it’s ok because now they got this human from another reality to help them reclaim the pieces of itself. and maybe along the way relearn how to love the world again.

*oh also yoba didn’t create the whole planet like the creation story claims. they’re technically an alien that came across a young planet full of life and decided to stay and help it develop.

*main reason yo-yo made a contract with samuel is because it needs help finding/reclaiming the pieces of itself. pieces can usually be found in strong monsters empowered by the piece. this isn’t always the case though. sometimes it’s in an ancient artifact. sometimes it’s in a specific place like a temple. sometimes it’s in a person.

*samuel doesn’t have to deal with having an existential crisis about yo-yo, since he’s from our world where yoba doesn’t even exist as a god. yo-yo claims to be the one responsible for bringing samuel over into the stardew universe, but there are holes in their story. where did yoba even find the power to do such a thing when they’re in such a weakened state? mysterious.

*the first time yoba reveals itself to shane is kind of chaotic. it’s in the middle of the night when yo-yo suddenly appears in shane’s room, grabs his face with its little stick arms and yells, “WAKE UP!!! YOUR BOYFRIEND IS IN MORTAL PERIL!!!” shane is like, “WHAT THE F–” it was an act of desperation on yo-yo’s part, because samuel was in trouble and shane was the only one it could think of going to for help. essentially samuel meets something Bad in the deep mines, something that takes him out of commission and puts him in a trance state while draining his lifeforce. y’know, the classic kind of trance state where you need to figure out how to get the person back–how to snap them out of it. yo-yo tried and failed, so that’s where shane comes in. it’s the classic “love-interest-breaks-main-character-out-of-mind-control-with-sheer-power-of-love” trope. except shane does punch samuel during it. lovingly. in the face. hey it works ok. after the chaos is over and everyone’s safe and gathered together, samuel and yo-yo explain everything to shane (well more like samuel explains everything while yo-yo wishes outloud that they had their memory erasing powers back). shane, who is canonically an atheist, learns that this talking pottymouthed jerkass apple is actually THE yoba and is just like, “yeah. this might as well happen.” and then he remains atheist because what else are you going to do when you learn that god is a talking pottymouthed jerkass apple who calls you a bitch and is also responsible for your partner having to go do dangerous shit. he and yo-yo have a rocky relationship at first to say the least. but once they both realize how much the other cares about samuel, things get a little better.

*yeah, yoba may be a bitch and they may be angry and they may be bitter, but they really do care, even if they try to convince themselves otherwise. even though so much got taken from it, it still cares about humans and dwarves and shadow people and everything else on the planet. and when it eventually comes down to it, yoba will step up to protect what it loves, even if it means losing everything again.

SHANE FINCH:

*this post was technically supposed to just be about my farmer and yo-yo’s lore and stuff, but i gotta give some personal headcanons i have about shane… like for instance his last name is “finch.” because i thought the bird theme was cute. he’s 29 years old, bi, and half asian, half white (in our world that asian half is korean). i’m not being specific because i don’t know if korea even exists in the stardew world, since all we know in the game is that there’s a “ferngill republic” and a “gotoro empire.” i was thinking of just headcanoning that stardew’s planet is essentially the same as earth. so like most of the same countries/nations exist except the history diverged a bit along the way, leading to the ferngill republic and gotoro empire. OK SORRY for the tangent—back on topic.

*so shane is a trans man who started transitioning back in high school. he had two best friends who were very supportive and really helped him on his journey to figure himself out. those two friends were like family to him. it was good that he had this support because his parents were always pretty shitty and shane transitioning just made them act even shittier. the only good family member of shane’s is marnie, who was supportive, but she lived far away, was busy, AND wasn’t on good terms with her sister (shane’s mom), so shane didn’t get to see her much.

*the moment shane became a legal adult, he got away from his parents, finding a place with his two best friends and moving in together. oh and his friends’ names were rosa and heath. should’ve probably mentioned that earlier oops. shane, rosa, and heath go to the same college together, suffer student loans, graduate, etc. haven’t thought of what shane would get a degree in yet—most likely something “generic” because he’s unsure of what he wants to do himself (i feel u bby).

*ok so rosa and heath were dating since high school, but they were so comfortable with shane and vice versa that things never got that awkward living together. however when rosa and heath got married (“yoba, FINALLY,” shane would say), shane felt like it was time to find his own place, much to the devastation of his bffs. the apartment ended up close to where rosa and heath lived of course—the couple made sure of it (“stop backseating my apartment hunting!” “MAKE US”).

*rosa and heath get pregnant and have a healthy baby girl that they name jasmine. i headcanon jas as black (from heath’s side) and portuguese (rosa’s side). everyone is thrilled about the baby. shane was immediately offered godfather role and he happily accepted. jas was the cutest baby ever and he adored her. he babysat jas all the time.

*jas was 4 years old when rosa and heath tragically passed away in a car accident. they were coming home from a business dinner when they lost control of their car on some black ice and slid into oncoming traffic. shane was babysitting jas when he got the call. in the span of one cold winter night, shane and jas’s world shattered.

*rosa and heath didn’t have any reliable relatives either. those relatives only came to take the money and belongings. shane was the only one jas had, so he adopted her. he tried his best to pick up the pieces. he really did. he lasted for a year trying to raise a kid on his own with the salary of a dead-end job, but he knew the situation wasn’t good with the money and how much his mental health was spiraling. he knew he and jas were in dire need of more support (“jas deserves better than this”). so he turned to the one person he had left to rely on: his aunty marnie. and that’s how shane and jas ended up in pelican town.

*shane’s joja jacket was actually originally rosa’s. rosa worked as an accountant for joja and would get free promotional items all the time from the company. the jacket was one of the only things she actually ended up using because “it’s pretty comfy for being joja bs.” she would wear it all the time, much to her more fashion-conscious husband’s chagrin (yet he would patch up any holes she’d get in it anyway). after rosa died, shane kept her jacket. there were a lot of memories in it.

~~~

ok that’s it for now. if anyone actually read all that, thank you for even wasting your time to process my ramblings. i’m sorry it’s so fucking long like jfc.

*who is mr. qi?

#stardew valley #stardew valley shane #stardew valley farmer #sdv shane #sdv farmer #sdv yoba #ocs #long post #loredump

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hotvintagepoll · 6 months

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Propaganda

Ava Gardner (The Killers, The Barefoot Contessa)— She's so goddamn hot. Her and Frank Sinatra could've sandwiched me and I would've thanked them for the privilege

Patricia Neal (A Face in the Crowd, Hud, Breakfast at Tiffany's)—i just think she she emanates a raw sexual energy...i want her to divorce me

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Ava Gardner:

Ava Gardner is one of my favorite actresses of all time. Although a lot of her roles in movies are about her being beautiful and nothing else, there are some films where her acting truly shines.

Gifset: https://www.tumblr.com/pelopides/721438308726603776/ava-gardner-as-pandora-reynolds-pandora-and-the

Gifset 2: https://www.tumblr.com/portraitoflestatonfire/731899355804598272/if-the-loustat-reunion-doesnt-look-like-this-then

HER FACE. LOOK AT IT. Also was a life long supporter of civil rights and a member of the NAACP, had lots of fun love affairs with other stars, bullfighters, married several times but was also happy in between to just have lovers and was unapologetically herself.

I literally gasp every time I see her.

Between 1942 and 1964, Ava Gardner was credited in no less 50 films, and is still considered by some to be the most beautiful actresses that ever graced the silver screen. Despite life-long insecurities regarding her talent as an actress, she weathered public scandal, industry hostility, and outright condemnation by the Catholic Church with fearless grace. She would later in life talk candidly about the reality and pain of living through two (studio approved!!) abortions during her short marriage to Frank Sinatra, and while the two of them could not make their relationship work, they remained in each other’s lives for nearly 30 years. She would forever describe herself as a small-town girl who just got lucky, but always felt like a beautiful outsider.

Really genuinely one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever seen. An autodidact. Had amazing chemistry with Gregory Peck to the point where I do think about watching On The Beach again sometimes because they're so good together even though that movie did destroy me. Was a great femme fatale in many movies.

Patricia Neal:

#ava gardner #patricia neal #hotvintagepoll #ladies 1 #fuck that old woman

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apollosrambling · 1 year

Text

Dumb Love

Weasley Twins x Male/Masc reader 1183 words

The dorm room is quiet aside from the harsh patter of rain on the windows. You’re propped up in your own bed, reading from a DADA textbook to prepare for an upcoming paper. Across the room from you, the Weasley twins are sitting on Fred’s bed, heads together as they study their newest creation. The rest of the dorm is empty, the two others in the library working on a project. It’s a cold, rainy October evening, filling the school with a melancholy whisper.

You look out the window as a large crack of thunder fills the room. The Durmstrang boat is rocking wildly in the lake, leaving you to wonder if the students are taking refuge in the great hall, or if perhaps the ship is enchanted to avoid the feeling on the inside. You quickly realize you’ve been staring out of the window for at least five minutes, and snap back to your book. A movement catches your eye, and you look up to see the twins staring at you.

“What?” You ask, closing your book and stretching. You’d been sitting for what felt like hours.

“Nothing.” They say in tandemonium, which skyrockets your suspicions.

“What?” This time when you say it, you sound significantly less curious and impossibly more weary.

They both shrug, going back to working on their dangerous candies.

Being their best friend of 5 years, you knew better than to drop your suspicion, but you were also tired of staring at your book while pretending to understand the words. Deciding instead to watch the boys, you shove the textbook into your bag. While you have been their best friend, it was easy to tell when your feelings begin to grow.

It started with little signs. A twisting in your stomach when one laughed, a flutter across your skin when another would take your bag to taunt you. The teasing turned from infuriating to blush-inducing.

It hit you like a truck, though, one holiday evening at the Burrow when you’d decided to stay with them rather than travel further to stay at home. It was late, a fire crackling in the hearth while you say curled between them. They had thought you asleep, dozing like a cat in the coziness of the cottage.

“Try not to jostle him,” George had whispered, a hand stroking your hair while the other attempted to move to put long-drained cocoa mugs away.

The way his fingertips felt on your forehead had solidified your feelings, sending you tumbling down a cliff of dumb puppy love.

“Y/n.” Fred is standing now, moving towards your bed with a mischievous look. “Yeah?” You quirk an eyebrow and lean against one of the posts of your bed, swinging your legs over the edge.

“Fancy an outing?”

Truthfully, you don’t. It’s cozy in your dorm. The warm heat of the fire as your pet naps in front of it, the familiar smell of sweets and spices. When it comes to the twins, though, you’re weak.

“Sure.” Without much hesitation you pull on your cloak, not wanting your signature Molly Weasley sweater to be ruined if this outing includes the raging storm outside.

The twins lead you out of the dorm and towards the towers of the castle. Watching the rain through the windows as you pass, tugging your cloak a little tighter as a shiver runs down your back.

“Cold?” George sidles up, towering over you at an outrageous height. You huff, moving away to hide your blush.

“No,” You mumble, but the subtle shaking in your hands gives you away. George takes them in his, intertwining your fingers as you walk.

It’s hard to not let it go to your head. Sometimes you think their whispers and soft glances are for you. That it could work out. But that’d be outrageous, and they’ve always been tactile. It’s far more likely they just enjoy physical touch with all of their friends.

After what feels like forever, you’re standing atop the astronomy tower with a charm keeping the pelting rain from your heads. Fred is laying out a blanket -where he conjured it from, you don’t know- when George finally lets go of your hand to set you down on it. The three of you huddle together, watching the gray sky get darker as first years sprint across the lawn in an attempt to stay dry. Mostly unsuccessful.

“Why are we here?” You lean back, resting on your palms and looking up at the two redheads.

“The ball is coming up.” Ah, yeah. Perhaps they’re about to ask who you’re going to ask. Tell you about the girls they’ve been admiring.

“Mh, yeah. It is. Who are you eyeing?” You really don’t want to know, but their happiness is important.

“Well, I reckon I’ll pick up the courage to ask here soon.” Fred is smiling, as if he’s in on a secret you aren’t. He probably is.

You watch George roll his eyes. “No, you won’t. You’ll just mope around Gryffindor tower and lament about dying alone.” You cover your mouth to hide the laughter as Fred pulls an offended face.

“Bugger off, I’ll do it.” He turns to you, shoving at his twin across you. “Who are you asking?”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” You shrug, too embarrassed to admit you’d pictured yourself between them, dress robes tangled as you dance and exchange kisses.

“Not interested in anyone, then?” They loom over as if your answer is the most important thing on earth.

“No.” The burning red that seeps from your cheeks to your ears and back of your neck gives you away.

“No one would be interested in going with me,” You admit. It hurts but you know you’re right.

“Bullshit!” George grabs your shoulder, leaning impossibly close.

“I bet loads of people are hoping you’ll ask them.”

“Oh yeah, I can think of at least two,” Fred chimes in, looking just as offended.

“Two? Who?” Your heart pounds as George stares down at you.

Do they know two other guys interested in men? Where? You can only think of one, and he’s definitely not interested.

George is looking annoyed, grabbing your chin with more force than is maybe necessary. It makes you swallow.

“You,” he growls out, tight grip showing no sign of loosening, “are the most infuriating, dense boy I have ever met.”

“Thanks?”

Before the word even fully leaves your lips he’s crashing down on you. Weight heavy, free hand slipping through your hair in that obsessive way he likes to touch it. His lips are relentless, violent against yours and brimming with emotion.

He pulls away, and before you can breathe Fred is taking his place. With a spinning mind and tingling lips you get lost in the sensation of kissing the two boys you’ve been in love with for years, heart pounding.

When you’re finally given a chance to breathe your cheeks hurt from grinning.

“So, you two want to go to the dance with me?”

You’re tackled with more kisses, the rain a comforting soundtrack to your new love story.

#harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #fred weasley x male reader #hp x male reader #fred weasley imagines #weasley twins #george weasley x male reader #weasley twins x reader #harry potter imagines

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severedfromthesource · 1 month

Text

Weightless

No gravity and no heartbeat. M rescuer, M resus, suffocation, chest compressions, AED

Cohl fumbled to grab the straps on Yui’s suit. They were just out of reach. His body kicked like he was swimming, but he knew he was doing nothing but expending energy. They both tilted weightless through the station as debris floated between them. He couldn’t get enough leverage to reach him as his internal systems sounded an alarm, the visor of his helmet blinking red with warning. One of his life support systems was failing. Cheap fucking equipment, he spit internally. They’d scavved both suits from a small military post that had been pelted apart by a meteorite swarm. Both men figured the military would have half decent space suits. They were wrong.

Yui weakly clapped against his chest and throat, his body convulsing in the air with the overwhelming need to breathe. He could only stare helpless at the two red goose eggs on his HUD. Oxygen reserves: 0.0 percent. He looked to Cohl in a panic. The other man was trying to push himself closer in suspension, but he was moving so slowly, and there was nothing to help him gain leverage. Yui would pass out before he reached him. And even if he did, what then? The romantic idea that he would share his oxygen reserves was sweet, and more or less keeping with Cohl’s chivalrous swashbuckler persona. But if he stopped breathing, flooding his helmet with oxygen wouldn’t do much. His lungs would stop working before Cohl made it over, he was almost sure of that. Already blackness crept in around the edge of his vision and Cohl’s stricken expression and his useless wading through empty space were growing darker.

“Yui, don’t pass out,” he shouted over the comms. The jerky movements were getting fewer and farther between. Cohl was beginning to panic himself. His own helmet was throwing out warnings to slow his breathing, but he couldn’t. He racked his brain for some solution. He couldn’t just keep floating like a jackass and watch him asphyxiate. He scrambled to pull up his remote ship controls. He could see their vessel through the huge windows circling around the abandoned station, haloed by a distant sun. The cockpit was empty, he’d told the ship to hover and wait for their return while they harpooned the station and reeled themselves in. Now he woke its systems, and began manually operating it. He swiped at the controls and urged the little ship to ram the nearest support pillar braced against the outside of the station. Their Hawk was hardly a match for the size of the huge spinning top they found themselves aboard, but maybe. Maybe it could make a difference. Otherwise… he didn’t want to think of otherwise.

The station groaned as the Hawk rammed against it and the room they found themselves in lurched. Cohl found himself being shoved to the side and smashed his ribs against a wall that rushed up to him, but finally, solid ground. He looked up to see Yui poised above him, and his heart lurched when he saw he had stopped fighting. His hands weakly flexed against the seal of his helm. “No, no, hold on,” he murmured under his breath, voice distorted by his helm.

Yui watched Cohl maneuver his legs underneath himself and kick out like a gold medal swimmer in the 100 meter. His lungs wouldn’t fill. His throat worked and his brain urged him to breathe, but there was nothing left. The last shallow pull of stale carbon dioxide made it down his throat and then nothing. His lashes fluttered. Pins and needles prickled in his limbs. Through hooded eyes he watched Cohl shoot towards him, dimly aware that he had tackled him and now grappled him around the waist.

“Got you,” he heard his voice exclaim over comms, though his mind was going dim, and he was starting to hear less and less. “Pretty sure I snapped off the Hawk’s beak, don’t be mad.” Arms encircled him as Cohl, his captain, his plucky rogue who earned every story about himself, shifted him so Yui’s back pressed against his front.

He kept him pinned there as he fumbled to disconnect Yui’s useless oxygen system. “You really made me look like an idiot back there, treading water like that,” he laughed shakily, unclipping one of his own oxygen tubes from his suit. It hissed and sputtered little clouds in the dark station and he attached it to the other valve, tightening it. He heard the click and then the hum as Yui’s suit once more flooded with air. He cupped his hand over his chest. “There we go, good as new.”

But Yui didn’t respond. His arms hung limply in the absence of gravity, his head rocked forward. Cohl felt his skin tighten in goosebumps. “Yui,” he said with some urgency, rapping a finger against his helmet, “Breathe in, bud. Come on, take a breath.” The terminal on his wrist blinked and he snatched his arm, lifting it to see what other god damn warning his suit was issuing this time.

CRITICAL CONDITION- RESPIRATORY ARREST DETECTED

He grabbed the collar of Yui’s helmet and turned it towards himself, urgently thumping his sternum with his palm. He called his name again and again, clutching at the second skin material of his suit as he turned to face him. He didn’t respond. Behind the glass, his face was slack, his eyes closed and mouth slightly agape. Blue was creeping into his lips. Cohl fumbled with his limp body as they tilted in the air. The stupid thing was supposed to have a failsafe for this, but it wasn’t triggering. He swore as he punched in the controls on the wrist terminal and the helm slid open. The light of the distant sun shone on Yui’s pale face. He probed his hand in around the edges of the helmet until he found the little nozzle tucked away to the side. He grabbed it, hooking a thumb over the bottom row of his second in command’s teeth and tongue with his other hand. He plunged the rebreather into his mouth and it latched, making a seal in his airway. Cohl once more wrapped his arm around the smaller man’s chest and felt his ribs flex as the thing breathed for him.

He looked at the readout again as his oxygen levels began to climb back up slowly. Too slowly. The fluttering little line of his heartbeat was quivering, hardly making spikes. Cohl closed his helmet again and wrapped both arms around him, braced against his midriff and across his chest. “Yui,” he pleaded again and shook him once, hard enough his helmet clinked off Cohl’s own. He made a fist and scrubbed his knuckles hard against his sternum, between the lithe muscles of his pectoral. The mechanical breathing swelled against his hand as the rebreather filled his lungs with the oxygen provided by Cohl’s life support systems. It forced his chest to expand and he heard a sigh crackling over their comms, expelling each breath given to him, his chest deflating in Cohl’s hands.

The terminal chimed and threw up holographic words. CRITICAL CONDITION- VENTRICULAR FIBRILLATION DETECTED. He knew it to be true. His heart was quivering into Cohl’s palm, shaking and uncoordinated, too fast to properly push blood through his body. He felt the nervous bird flitting against the cage of his ribs. He cursed softly and gripped him by the shoulder, spinning Yui around. There were four circular ports, two over the right side of the heart, near the shoulder, and two tucked up beside his ribs on the opposite side. He flipped the little latch beside these ports and the suit sucked closer to the skin, pressing itself especially firm in these spots. He watched as the little ports began to hum and glow brighter and brighter in the center of their circular, metal frames.

“Automatic external defibrillator engaged,” came a robotic voice from the terminal, “Select charge.”

If these things were worth anything, let them be worth this. Cohl tapped the 200j option blinking at Yui’s wrist. “Charging,” said the voice, the device whining. Yui’s muscles convulsed. Cohl had to grip him tightly by the arm to keep him from drifting away as the defibrillator discharged into his fluttering heart, making his whole body jolt. His head snapped back, his shoulders shrugging, back crooking. “Shock delivered. Analyzing rhythm, stand clear of patient.”

“Not gonna happen,” he murmured to himself, cupping the other man’s helmet to tip his head back towards himself. He only just looked over at the projected monitor when the voice piped up, “No pulse detected. Begin CPR.”

A flatline cut through the darkness of the lonely station. “No, you’re kidding me,” he hissed, cupping a hand over the center of his breast. Nothing. Weren’t these stupid things supposed to fix a fibrillating heart? They weren’t supposed to kill the person, right? His mind spun. CPR. CPR? How the hell was he supposed to do that? He couldn’t put any weight behind the compressions, definitely not enough to shove his heart against his spine. He gripped his shoulder with one hand and shoved the heel of his palm against his heart. He only succeeded in nearly shoving his body away from him entirely. He looped an arm around his shoulders and tried again; again, there was no way to get enough leverage for an effective compression. His eyes roved over Yui from head to toe, then their surroundings.

“Hang on,” he huffed, resituating himself behind him again. He slid both arms around him from behind, bracing a balled fist against his unbeating heart. Settling his chin against his shoulder, he thrust in against his ribcage, forcing it to bow in towards his spine. He’d never had to actually use the scarce first aid lessons he’d been forced to sit through, ironically at Yui’s insistence.

Something told him this was harder than normal compressions. He couldn’t put his weight behind it, or rely on the ground to help squeeze blood from his motionless heart. It relied entirely on the strength in his arms; those felt like they were ready to fall off with how hard his own pulse thundered through his limbs. He kept it up anyway. Yui’s ribcage shifted under his skin, bowing with each hard thrust and expanding with each breath. “C’mon,” Cohl grunted, “We’ve been through worse than this, huh? Huh? You’re gonna let-hngh- this shitty station- ungh- be where you die? Cause of a dumb suit malfunction?”

Again, Yui’s heart began to quiver in his chest, shaking the space between his ribs. “Shock advised. Stand clear of patient.” “Yeah, no, I’m good here.” Again, the ports whined and began to glow. The display showed the shaky line of his heart struggling to beat, beneath that the line marking the device as it charged to 250. Cohl instinctively wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. His breath was noisy in his helmet. “Come on, come on, come on…”

Yui’s body bucked, knocking against Cohl’s chest as his limbs seized in the current. His muscles tensed and loosened, his helmet clanging hard off Cohl’s own. “Shock delivered-“ “I know the stupid thing delivered the stupid shock,” he growled, pressing his palm flat against Yui’s heart. “Is he alive or dead?” “No pulse detected. Begin CPR.” “Fucking hell-“

He started the compressions anew, harder this time, if he could even do them any harder. He beat his second in against his chest, sweat tickling his brow and neck. His entire focus, his entire being, was centered on the man dead- not dead, no, he couldn’t be dead. He was destined to die in some awesome, awe inspiring way on a distant planet. Crushed in a salt avalanche, fucked to death by some charismatic mantis alien, shot in a card game with interstellar pirates. This was undeserving of him. This was how rookies died. They weren’t rookies. Cohl and Yui were wanted criminals, their faces graced holo posters in three different systems. Haruki Yui was not suffocating in an abandoned research base. He was not dying while Cohl still had breath.

As he shoved against his sternum, listening to the quiet “Huff, hff, haa, hff” as he forced synthetic air from his still lungs, he wasn’t paying attention to their surroundings. The quiet atrium might as well be a distant star. He didn’t notice the wall the two of them were floating towards until his back bounced off hard metal. Cohl kept bending his battered ribcage and craned his neck to look; his eyes widened. Gravity engine- the OFF button burned red in the dark. Life support systems- OFF.

“Jesus, yes, yes,” he gasped and flicked both switches on at once. The station groaned in protest as ancient motors whirred to life and air began to sigh once more through her vents. Cohl hardly had time to roll in midair and brace Yui in his arms before they were once more leashed by artificial gravity. It sucked them to the ground, slamming them both to the metal grating of a small platform. Something in his side cracked and the air squeezed out of Cohl’s lungs. He soundlessly wheezed, arms in a vice around his second.

His body hurt even worse with gravity weighing him down once more. His arms and legs were jelly. His muscles ached. It took him a moment, and he cursed every second of that moment, to roll Yui’s body off and push himself up on his hands and knees at his side. He tore off both their helmets, drawing in as deep a breath as he could manage. Stale air stuck to the sweat on his skin and he’d never been more grateful for it. “Okay, we can do this. C’mon…”

He descended on Yui’s chest, stacking his hands as he began to pound against creaking bone. At this angle, it was easier to feel the fractures he’d split through his second’s sternum, bone rubbing against bone. His head rocked, each compression causing a tide to roll from his shoulders to his fingertips, his feet. His belly bulged against the tight skin of his suit, snapping up as Cohl snapped down against his heart. Was he too late? Hell, had he even been doing any good before? These compressions felt more violent, going much deeper, and he couldn’t stop the little voice nagging that Yui was gone. Would he already be back if he’d found the damn switch earlier?

His hands sunk into the center of Yui’s heart again and again. He might have been saying something, but he wasn’t even sure. He was getting light headed from the rush of air and exertion. Even so, his entire body jerked as the robotic voice once more spoke, “Shock advised. Stand clear of patient.”

This time, despite how badly he wanted to just scoop him up into his arms, he sat back, staring down at his second’s moon white face. The suit’s oxygen system forced his chest to rise at regular intervals, even if the breath left his lungs, unable to stick.

“Charging,” it announced. The display flashed 360j. It emitted a few rapid beeps as it reached the end of its charge. Yui’s chest was pulled into into the air with a sharp jerk, his head snapping to the side, arms convulsing from the shoulder and then falling limp again. “Shock delivered. Analyzing-“

Yui’s throat came unstoppered and he drew in a rattling breath, loosing a moaning exhale. Cohl was at his throat in an instant, hooking his finger between his teeth. He took hold of the rebreather and it slid back, coming loose from his trachea with a wet gurgle.

“There he is,” Cohl almost shouted, cradling his neck, “There we go, deep breaths! Christ alive…”

Yui croaked something that might have been, “Captain.”

Cohl pressed his forehead to the other man’s temple, nose pressed to his cheek, stuck between laughing like a maniac and breaking down in sobs. Instead of doing either he huffed, “This scavver shit isn’t for us.”

#resus #male resus #resus community #chest compressions #cpr and aed #suffocation #whump #sci-fi resus

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icaruskeyartist · 11 months

Text

In theory, you understand that the human body is a bunch of electrical impulses running through a pile of organs, and that it's not that different from how technology works (a bunch of electrical impulses running through a pile of microchips and metal).

In practice though, in practice you're not sure how you've ended up like this.

"Oww..." Stupid fucking animatronics, stupid fucking Moon messing with you while you're trying to change out a flickering bulb. Maintenance isn't even part of your job description, but the STAFF bots can't reach this high and seriously, fuck management and fuck Moon.

At least you seem to be in one piece. Your mind is racing, panicking, and you sit up from where you fell, rubbing at your face. Clang. What? You pat your face, hearing bells, and definitely not feeling a human face. You're not even sure if you're feeling anything at all. There's pressure, but no real sensation beyond that touch.

You open your eyes and immediately fall back. As if that would let you escape the HUD overlaid on the entirely too bright nightscape around you. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

There's a groan and your head jerks towards the ladder. It'd fallen in the explosion, and there's a person laying with their legs tangled in the metal. Wearing a security guard uniform. And the hair is a familiar color. The HUD lights up, helpfully identifying the figure as they roll onto their back, blood smeared over their face. It's your name.

"What happened?" Your voice too, as the figure pushes themselves up. They stop like you did, and you watch as it takes in the very human hand they were balancing themselves on. You look down, seeing long, delicate blue and gray fingers instead of your own flesh and blood. Bells tied to your wrist ring gently as your non-existent gut drops. "What in Fazbear..."

A hand grabs your wrist, your hand, Moon's wrist, what is happening, and you're jerked closer to your own face. You look furious despite the blood, and your HUD gives you the less than helpful information that the security guard has a potentially broken nose and a large laceration just under their hairline. "What did you do to me?" Moon growls in your voice.

"What did I do?" Moon's voice trips you up and you fall silent, desperately trying to process how you could speak without breathing and you weren't breathing holy fuck

There is too much information flitting through your mind all at once and you are still being bombarded with the fact your body is injured. Your body, the meat and guts one.

"Yes what did you -- ow!" Moon lets you go to press a hand to his eye. The blood had finally gotten to it, and you wince in sympathy. "I'm bleeding."

"Well yeah," you say, and you're definitely not thinking about how you're talking. "You... I... You fell ten feet off a ladder. You're lucky you didn't break a leg."

"That is not what I'm talking about. Why are you in my body? Where's Sun?"

Oh, he's right. Where is Sun? The thought brings up a lot of information, from the actual star in the galaxy to an old set of programs from the theater, but there's no Sun in your head.

"He has to be in there." Moon is either reading your mind or has decided that you're especially stupid now that you're trapped in his body. Either way, he's talking and standing, a little wobbly when all the blood that's left through his head decides not to miraculously reappear. "Stand up. I'm not dragging you."

"How?" slips out before you can catch it. Moon laughs, and it sounds mean coming from your throat. You want to swallow or swat at him or both, but you can't do the former and just barely manage to avoid the latter. You manage to stand and follow, feeling rather tall. Is this how it felt to not be the shortest person in the room? It's kinda nice.

"Go," Moon orders when you stop just outside the daycare. "We are bringing Sun out. He'll know what to do." He shoves at you, smearing blood against the heavy material of your pants. It's smeared over his face as well, and he looks pale under the mess.

"Maybe you should sit. You've lost a lot of blood." Unbidden, inventory of the daycare comes up in your mind, helpfully informing you of the first aid kit and apple juice tucked away from curious little hands. "I can... Clean you up?"

"No. Sun." Moon shoves you inside with all his strength, and you stumble forward, tripping over the upturned ends of your slippers. Moon slaps the wall behind you and the lights of the daycare flicker to life.

The change is uncomfortable, like someone is scratching at a chalkboard inside your mind. You drop to your knees, groaning as Moon's hat retracts, Sun's rays unsheathing. You want to close your eyes but you can't. You have no eyelids, no easy escape away from reality. And when the change stops, you find a new set of instructions thrumming just under your conscious thought, all the tasks and lists and other things about running the daycare at peak efficiency and with the cheapest labor possible.

But Sun isn't there.

"Sunny?" Moon's words falter in your voice, and when you look his way, you can see the fear in his face. Of course. Moon wouldn't be used to having a face that could emote. Something flickers in your mind. Sympathy? No, more likely it's some part of Sun's coding urging you to ease a human's pain.

"Not here," you say, and there is a tiny amount of satisfaction at seeing his face fall. "Are you sure he didn't follow you into my body?"

"I don't heaf him," Moon says, but you roll your eyes. Or. You think you do. Sun doesn't have pupils or irises. Maybe that's been taken from you too.

"He doesn't come out in the dark." You grab Moon by the front of your shirt and drag him out of the shadows as he gives the most undignified yell.

You toss him directly under one of the lights, flinching as he doesn't catch himself and instead goes rolling across the hard rubber mats. Okay, so you are strong like this. Probably shouldn't be such a surprise. Still, it is just a little funny watching your body rag doll around. You just hope it won't hurt anymore once you're back in it.

"You good?" You ask, squatting next to your body. You pick up a wrist, and your HUD changes to reflect the heart rate of your body. It's pounding away in there, so Moon is still clearly alive. You roll him over, watching as he blinks blearily in the light. "Hello?"

"Hello," he says, shielding his eyes from the light as he sits up. He blinks, adjusting to the change, before staring at his hand. He flips it over, staring at his palm, then back again before grabbing at his clothes. "Moony, what did you do?" He asks and. Ah.

"Sun," you say with a sigh, and fall back onto your animatronic ass. Oh, right. You'd been squatting. "Moon was looking for you. Guess you're in there with him."

"What's happened? Why are you me? Why am --- am I bleeding?" He touches the tacky blood matt that's become of your eyebrow, recoiling in disgust and fear. He turns wide, wide eyes to you. You grimace. You recognize that look.

"I don't know," you say flatly. "I was on a ladder changing out one of the lights near the arcade when Moon decided to be a little shirt and got us both electrocuted. I woke up like this."

"Oh." Sun frowns and closes his eyes, leaving you to wonder what he was trying to do. Whatever it was, it wasn't working, and when he rubbed at his face, he flinched. "Can you help with this?" Sun asks, gesturing vaguely to the cut.

"I don't---"

"It's in your programming," Sun said, standing with more grace than you or Moon have managed this far. "Just access the file and you'll be able to stitch this closed."

"I'm sorry. You want me to stitch my own face shut?" You trail after him as he goes to the cabinet and pulls out the first aid kit.

"it's just a simple task. No more difficult than sewing a ripped seam back together." He hands you the kit, trying to sit in a kid sized chair before giving up and sitting on the table (visibly uncomfortable) instead.

"Just a simple task," you grumble at the kit, opening it with one hand. You don't have to ask how to retrieve a file at least. When you pick up a needle, you're bombarded with different methods of sewing a human's skin back together. To put it inelegantly.

Sun waits for you, leg bouncing rapidfire even as you kneel. You grab his knee and squeeze until he legs out a squeak of discomfort. "Stop that. I'm not going to poke out my own eye because you're anxious."

"Sorry." Pause. "Sorry," he repeats, more softly.

You don't reply, needing to focus on the directions that are bypassing conscious thought into action that your body takes while you scramble to keep up. You clean the wound, ignoring as Sun hisses in surprised pain, then pinch the wound shut. The needle is pre-threaded and sterile, and you make surprisingly small, neat stitches with the black thread, snapping it off and dropping the needle back into the box to dispose of later. You only need a small bandage to cover the stitching and then... You're done.

"Well shirt." You cock your head, confused. "Shirt. Fazbear. Birch." You pull at your faceplate, like you can physically drag the words out of your mouth. "Why the Fazbear can't I say shirt?"

"Bad language is prohibited in the daycare." Sun sounds tired, and when you glare at him, he is poking at the bandage. You grab his hand and force it down. That damned leg starts bouncing again.

"Okay fine. How do we switch back?" Sun stares at you. You stare back. "Well?"

"How would I know that?" Sun asks and you sigh, going to run a hand through your hair. You hit a ray instead. "Do you see anything in your programming that can help?"

"I can't see shirt." If you could, you would rip out this stupid censoring first. "Moon said you would know."

"Well, I don't. And this isn't good. The kids will be here in... in..." There's no clock in the daycare and you watch as Sun realizes that he doesn't have his programming anymore. No internal clock. No database of information that enabled you to sew your own flesh shut. He jumps up and all but runs to the security desk. You follow after, watching as he catches himself, freezing before he could reach for the phone.

"What?"

"I'm not supposed to go behind the security desk."

You snort, shaking your head as you reach past him and stop, hand frozen. With a frown, you try to push past, but it's like shoving against a wall. There's no movement. Sun is watching and he slowly reaches past you, hand shaking as he pulls the phone display over.

"This is Fazbear stupid," you grumble, letting your hand drop.

"The kids are going to be here in an hour!" Sun is on a completely different level, and he turns to run and do something, no idea what, because he promptly trips over your own shoelaces. And of course he doesn't try to catch himself. If your nose isn't broken by the end of the night, you're going to be shocked.

With a sigh, you go and pick him up with a grip on the back of his shirt. "Okay, we've got an hour. It's time to learn some human 101 so you don't get my body killed before we can fix this tonight."

---

Okay anyway, this is why I sent you the ask @pillowspace. I think I'm going to open my askbox to prompts too because holy shit I felt my blood pressure drop while writing this.

I also used The Good Place curse substitutions except for Fazbear cause I think they did it best and also FE wouldn't pass up a chance for free promotion.

#dca #body swap au

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typosandtea · 5 months

Text

Power armour!!

New details and stuff about the T60 / power armor in general that I’ve noticed in the show!

Minor spoilers below for the tv show as some things relate to certain scenes.

They absolutely nailed the power armour in the show! I’m so glad they used practical effects for a lot of it, looks great and has some weight to it which I think cgi can lack! Sure it looks a tiny bit goofy but it always was going to, adding a lot to your height and forearm length while still being able to move properly will do that I think. I think they did a great job :)

The faceplate is hinged to open upwards.

You can jump extra far / power jumping

The grip strength is very high (enough to crush a guy’s skull one handed)

The throwing strength is very far (vending machine like 50m?)

These T60s have the jet packs included as a part of the forearms, which is neat I think.

The helmet has its own little hood for comms as a part of the helmet, on top of the operator wearing the silly danse hat, which seems to be an actual hood that’s part of the power armour jumpsuit / knight uniform.

The HUD is in the lower part of the helmet, which seems obvious but the games have no helmet and you still have a HUD so .?? Sole is connected to the armour telepathically, and Danse just Knows. /joking

The back of the helmet opens, you can see the back of the head and there’s also a drinking water fill port.

Possible retcon but voice modulators are strong enough to make people unrecognisable by voice (or that’s just what this BOS chapter does for scary points)

head-cannon but: the strength of the voice modulators also may partially explain why Danse talks like that, no tone or facial expressions mean you’ve got to talk in exact details! (I still think he ate a thesaurus :) )

Fusion cores are keyed!

And the removing said core with the key puts the armour into standby mode, disabling the armours internal manual open overide (new fear)

Some of the important wiring and or control components are on the outside of the helmet in knife range (???)

The handles on the front are for personnel transport during drops lol

The shoulder pieces are also for dropping you from a vertibird, and for maintenance at a power armour station.

You can in fact sit down!!! Assuming the thing you’re sitting on can hold the armours weight

Armor is actually bullet proof again (I understand that it’s only not included in the modern games for gameplay reasons but still)

The actual armour pieces can be popped off the sealed frame easily.

The armour does have storage scattered through it, as Maximus mentions having some radaway stashed.

Grenade in the chest plate front will blow the head and helmet off

Machine gun point blank will kill through the helmet

There is a flaw in the chest plate just below the welding that an armour piercing? round can break for the kill.

Things that aren’t directly shown but I think are a reasonable leap in logic:

If the armour has a hydration system I think it likely has other life support systems like those mentioned in fallout 2 (water recycling of some sort)

Another gameplay discrepancy but, Fusion cores in the show must last a really long time as it powers an entire vault for prolonged periods of time and Maximus only has the one core, either that or power armour is such a energy guzzler that it can use an entire communities long term worth of power in a short time.

I’m sure that there is probably more that I’ve missed!

#I have many thoughts!#power armour #power armor #fallout power armor #fallout #fallout tv #fallout show #fallout tv show #fallout prime #Typos’ tea time

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wileycap · 2 months

Text

WIBTA if I start an impromptu hostile takeover of my company, removing my boss from power to protect my son?

I apologize for the brevity of my post as this is a time-sensitive issue. Apologies for any spelling mistakes as well, I am typing this on my mobile device.

Last time I (M46) was on here, I posted about a separate matter concerning my son (M23) and an argument we had. I was unable to appreciate my verdict of YTA at the time, but I can now see that you were right. (Yes, I am the father who cut his son's hand off.)

Some backstory. I brought my son, "Lucas", to meet with my boss (M93). My boss is rather high up in the hierarchy of my organization and I had hoped for Lucas to be hired. If you remember my last post, Lucas has quite a checkered past.

At first, things seemed to be progressing well. My boss expressed immediate interest in hiring Lucas. Lucas was not so thrilled by this, which I understand, but at the time I truly thought it would be best for him.

There was an altercation occurring outside the office, where some of Lucas' friends were protesting against my organization. Sadly, the protest was violent. At this, my boss made a comment about the protestors facing consequences for their actions. This comment enraged Lucas and he attempted to strike my boss. I felt as if I had to intervene.

We fought. His skills have grown considerably, and after the minor revelation that I have a daughter (F23) who is Lucas' twin, he eventually managed to tap into his rage and defeat me, cutting off one of my prosthetic hands. (I am not angry about this. This to all the people who said I was a "monster" for cutting off his hand. Cutting off limbs is a regular occurrence in our line of work, and I actually find it a little strange that Lucas still has three organic limbs at his age. Not to mention my daughter, who still has all four as far as I know.)

I digress. Immediately after, my boss offered Lucas my job. I was initially dismayed, but ultimately happy that my son was getting this opportunity. However, Lucas turned it down, stating that he was happy to remain with his current employer, and stated this reason in doing so was the fact that I originally worked for them, and he wished to follow in my footsteps. Which is something I'm quite touched by.

My boss was shocked that Lucas would refuse the job, and chose to shock Lucas in turn. By which I mean he is currently electrocuting my son.

Technically our organization has a clause that allows me to perform what is essentially a hostile takeover at any moment, provided that I am strong enough to do so, but I'm having doubts. On one hand, there is an exposed reactor shaft nearby into which I could throw my boss, but then on the other hand, this would have dire ramifications for our organization as well as our religion, in which my boss is a central figure. This makes me think that I might be TA.

So, WIBTA?

Edit: Every passing moment adds to my son's agony. Please keep your comments on topic.

Edit: I don't know why it matters, but "mobile device" means my helmet HUD. I am not sitting here on my phone watching my son suffer. I am standing.

Edit: Yes, an exposed reactor shaft is not OSHA compliant. Again, not relevant.

Edit: Whether our system is a theocracy or not is irrelevant. I don't come on here to criticize your governments. Do me the same courtesy.

Edit: You people are useless. I'm just going to throw him.

#this is what vader was doing while luke got electrocuted #“sorry i don't have time to explain” *proceeds to write out a long ass post*#star wars crack #luke skywalker #darth vader #palpatine #aita #something about soulless corpotate drone vader seems fitting

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 3 months

Text

Sanctuary part 2

Chapter 14: Adjusting

A/N: Here we go! So starts them all trying to find their feet with one another again. With the added body of Crosshair 🥹

Warnings: 18+, mentions of Tantiss, food, brief mention of injections, lots of feelings, mentions of scars.

Word Count: 5.5k+

Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15

Masterlist

Tagging: @subbing-for-clones

You weren’t used to sunshine. Not the warmth that tickled your skin, or the brightness that broke through the window. Everything was different. The fact you even had a window made your breath quicken. The covers were softer, lighter. Heat bled into the building from outside instead of being shoved into your cell in short bursts.

Sounds outside were muffled, but you heard…life.

People calling out greetings, children laughing, a hound barking. There was an underlying roar from the constant shifting sea below the island, a sound that made your muscles relax and your eyes close.

The world around you was alight. There was no cruelty, no lives calling out for help only to be silenced forever. Your power ebbed and flowed under your skin, rolling with the natural feel of the place, taking you on a current of calm you had never been able to tap into before. It made you feel lighter.

A delicious aroma filled the room, making your stomach clench and growl so hard you curled into a ball. The room Omega had shown you to was simple. Plain walls, a bed, a chair and a storage unit for clothes.

Noises from downstairs came to your attention, a booming laugh, the clatter of plates and many voices. Everything was so alien to you, especially the sense of belonging that attempted to infuse you. It tangled in your awareness, spreading over you with a warmth that tried to seep down to your bones.

You had been here before.

The thought was loud and firm. True. It was true.

A canvas bag sat on the chair, making you frown slightly. You had no belongings…not even the clothes on your back had survived what you’d been through. So why was there a bag? Curiosity nagged, giving you no option except to satisfy it. Rising from the bed you tiptoed over on silent feet, your fingers flexing as they reached for the clasp.

Flipping it open, you paused when the contents were revealed. The armour was familiar, grey and scuffed, with stitch marks painted on the vambraces. The helmet was a comfortable weight in your hands, fingers automatically finding the hidden skull symbols, tracing the raised outlines. The lightning bolt was horizontal, spreading either side of the skull. Biting your lower lip, you gently slipped it over your head.

The HUD flickered to life, soft static from the com filled your ears until it connected to the right channel. The screen had lines running through it, slowly adjusting the focus. This visor was more intricate and easier to use than the TK helmet you had worn back on Tantiss.

Your thoughts soured, the happiness beaten back by painful memories. The helmet went back in the bag, cover closed and you marched into the private refresher to take a hot shower.

You scrubbed every inch of your body, careful of the patch on your side and the bandages on your wrists. Completely alone for the first time in as long as you could remember; you allowed yourself to explore the marks you had refused to think about before.

Feeling each ridge and bump of every scar that covered your skin. Each one tugged at something within, but no memories sprang up to tell you where they came from. Great gaps yawned in your mind, filled with the swirling black mist of nothingness instead of colour and sounds. Maybe it was a blessing, judging by the state of your back and legs.

The clothes you found in the drawers were light and thin, made from material specifically to cope with the constant hot weather. A cropped pair of soft leggings and a tunic that tied at the waist, flowing over your hips with short sleeves. It felt odd to have your arms uncovered but freeing at the same time. The scars stood out in stark relief but you didn’t care, unburdened by the trauma they were born from. They had lost their power over you.

The door opened silently when you pressed the button on the control panel. The noises you heard earlier had stopped. Tilting your head, you let out a soft breath, casting your net of awareness wider.

There was someone waiting downstairs for you. He was mainly calm but there was a faint tremor of trepidation, and wariness. He also knew you were awake.

Deciding not to hide anymore, you slowly descended the stairs, steadying yourself with a hand trailing against the wall. The leather shoes you wore were supple and quiet but he still turned the exact moment you appeared.

His eyes widened at the sight of you, a minute move most people would have missed, but it was accompanied by a shot of surprise that rippled across the room.

The pair of you studied each other. Your eyes took in his dark hair, longer than the rest and held back with a red bandana. The skull on it matched the helmet upstairs. The dark side of his face was marked with a tattoo and a faint dusting of stubble. He was dressed in the underpadding from his armour, clearly ready to gear up at any moment. He wore a holster, the blaster you noticed was not secured, ready for a quick draw. A vibroblade was hidden behind his back, pushed into the belt of the holster but you knew that’s not where he usually kept it.

“How are you feeling?” His voice had a seasoned quality, a gravelly note of authority that matched his outward demeanour. You would not underestimate this man, not at all. His muscles tensed, coiled and ready to throw him into action, his eyes were studying you as intensely as you were studying him.

Hunter. He matched the image Omega created when she mentioned that name, and you remembered his name in the chaos of yesterday.

“I had a shower.” There was a brief uptick to his lips, as though he wanted to smile but he wasn’t ready. You could feel the sadness that lingered at the edges of his presence, sadness for you.

“Hungry? Omega cooked you pancakes.” The very notion Omega had cooked you breakfast made something crack inside you. With a soft shuffle of movement you came down the last step and approached the table.

Hunter took that as a yes, pulling a plate from the warm stone oven and sliding it in front of an empty chair. You sat down, feeling so hungry you were nauseous. A cup of black caf also materialised, the smell made you lean forward. With grabby hands you snatched the cup up, breathing in the steamy smell before downing the entire contents in one go. He cocked an eyebrow, holding a hand out so he could refill it.

You began to eat, trying to keep yourself from moaning your approval at the taste of it all. You had lived on grey sludge, rations and bread for so long you didn’t know food like this existed. The golden brown colour of the pancake reminded you of the eyes watching you with a look that made you shift in your seat.

“Where is Crosshair?” You queried. He was the only person you knew here. Aside from Omega. Hunter sighed, crossing his arms and spreading his legs into a more comfortable position.

“Around.” You mulled over the answer, picking up on the quiet emotions that drifted around this man. He was holding back from you, unsure of how to proceed. He was burning with curiosity, meaning he was desperate to ask you questions but after what he’d seen you do to that medic…

Shame clouded your mind, distorting your connection and the sense of him faded a little. “I am sorry.” You saw his leg give a little bounce.

“What for?”

“Is the medic ok?” You stabbed a piece of pancake.

“She will survive.” The fork twisted in your hand. Suddenly you didn’t feel like eating anymore.

“She wanted to trap me,” you murmured. “Never again.” Hunter slid a hand across the table, his fingers stopped an inch or so away from your own. His nails were flat and square, fingers wide and worn, calloused from years of holding weapons and fighting. The crazy urge to take his hand almost made you move. You had been isolated for so long, trapped in that mountain, held in the cold and the dark with only death as your constant companion.

Concern broke through the threat of the painful memories you did possess, lifting you above the tide. Compassion and affection hit you square in the chest causing you to inhale sharply and your hand moved away from his.

You hadn’t connected with anymore on such a vulnerable level except…his face was always there behind closed eyes. The visor of his helmet, the goggles you had traced so many times with the tip of your finger. His russet dark hair, the feel of his breath on your face…

“Where is Tech?” Hunter couldn’t hide the twitch in his hand at your words.

“The Archium.” You had no idea what that was but you were grateful he wasn’t here. The feelings you felt whenever you saw him were almost too powerful to process and it scared you.

“Where are we?”

“An island.” A wry smile appeared on your face, taking a measure of him. He was telling you the truth but he was purposely leaving out details, because under it all, his trust was hanging by a thread.

“We know each other,” you stated.

“Yes.”

“How?” He sucked in a breath, his broad chest pushed outwards and drew his hands together on the table, leaning heavily on his elbows.

“We found you in a slavers compound. We were there to extract someone but he was deathly ill and you were the medic tending to him, so you came with us.”

“I was a medic?”

“Yes,” he ground out, anger making his voice rough. Not anger at you though, anger about what you had lost at the hands of…Hemlock. “A damn good one. Healed my ribs, saved Tech’s life and you maintained Echo when he needed it.”

“Echo…” you knew that name.

“We sent a transmission. He should be here in a few rotations.”

“Why?” The puzzlement was real and fear ghosted up your spine.

“He has missed you.” The answer stunned you. No one in their right mind would miss you? Why would they? You had no family, it was always just you.

You have family. Go and find them.

The guilt rose in a wave. The fork clattered loudly on the plate as your hands covered your face. Niner was still in that awful place, you had just upped and left him. You knew there hadn’t been much of a choice at the time, but still.

“Stitch.” Hunter moved closer, the scent of him was dragged in every time you inhaled roughly. He smelled like pancakes and sunlight with a hint of katarn. You felt a tentative touch on your shoulder and immediately you stiffened, only to relax when he gently rubbed his thumb in little circles. There was nothing about him that said he would hurt you, only if you hurt him first.

After all, you were unpredictable. A threat.

You tried so hard not to cry, desperate to keep the weakness bottled up, except the cracks in your walls were too large and it spilled in great swathes. The emotions released, wringing you out until you had no choice but to fall against Hunter’s chest. Fingers dug into the material as your tears soaked him. He was warm and safe. Cocooning you in a loose embrace so you didn’t feel trapped or restrained in any way.

“I didn’t mean to hurt the medic,” you gasped into his chest.

“I know,” he rumbled, brushing his hand up and down your back.

“I have something inside me,” you admitted in a whisper. He tensed but didn’t pull away, holding his breath as he waited for you to continue. “They…they injected me with something that burned.” Your fingers flexed at the memory, the blaze of it pushing through every blood vessel had made you scream so hard your throat bled. “It hurt so much and now I can feel everything. I can feel your hesitation about me, I can feel the pain Crosshair hides, I can feel Wrecker’s sadness when he looks at me.” You squeezed your eyes shut. “I feel the people outside, the waves in the sea, the life that hums from the trees. It all speaks to me, constantly. I can’t stop it, can’t hide from it because it comes from everywhere. It breathes with me, fills me…I don’t want it.”

“I wish we had found you sooner,” Hunter murmured, pulling you a little tighter into his chest. “I’m so sorry, Stitch. I’m so sorry.”

“Niner told me I had a family. A squad.”

“Yes,” he murmured gently.

“You’re not going to want me now.” Hunter pulled away, cupping your face with his warm hands so he could gently wipe the tears that marked your face with his thumbs.

“You will always be one of us,” he tried to reassure you.

“But I’m broken,” your voice cracked. “He changed me, something is wrong with me.”

“Then you’ll fit right in.” Nothing you said changed his mind. Hunter looked to you as a part of his family, you felt it pouring from him and into your presence. “We will help. In whatever way we can.”

“Doing that puts you at risk. He will never stop hunting me.”

Hunter sighed, lowering his hands to your shoulders. “We are not letting you out of our sight again.” His eyes shaded with something dark, the shadow of the soldier came through as the need for violence against Hemlock took over his thoughts. “Hemlock can try, but he will never succeed.”

You nodded, untangling from him and wiping your face properly. It was a battle to shove all the emotions back behind the broken barriers, but you had to. What you needed was a distraction.

“Where is Crosshair?”

The stones were baking in the sun, heat drifted from them in waves. Accompanied by the chill of the sea breeze, they countered each other to create a comfortable atmosphere that had you breathing in deeply. Hunter led you down paths, greeting people as he went but never straying from your side.

The noise of a rifle punctured the quiet, a noise that triggered a sense of apprehension. Your feet came to a stop. The memories were there, yet always out of reach and it was frustrating.

“What’s wrong?” Hunter back tracked, casting his gaze around for whatever had made you pause.

“Nothing.”

“Crosshair is through there.” He gestured, rubbing the other hand around the back of his neck. He still didn’t know what say or how to act around Crosshair at the moment. Another person he couldn’t quite figure out.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him.

“Hmm.” Hunter tapped the comlink he’d given you and you nodded at the words he didn’t need to speak.

You watched him turn and walk away before heading for the entrance to the caves. Feeling your way with your hands and senses in the darkness. Only small animals were in here, yet the walls closed in. A drip echoed and your thin shoes slipped on the wet rocks, finally exploding gratefully back into the sunshine. It took a moment for your heart to slow to a steady beat and your breaths to become deeper.

Crosshair’s shoulders tensed. He knew you were there but he didn’t turn to look, instead he rushed the next shot at a silver droid who was holding some fruit. The bolt skimmed the droid, causing him to spin in its wake. Batcher was nearby, darting over to you with her tongue out, only to run away again, back to the hole she was digging in the wet sand.

The tide was out, waves gently lapping at the rocks further down the cove. It was calming, as though the water was pulling out your negative energy with each withdrawing wave. Not wanting to disturb Crosshair you sat on a rock, content to watch.

“What do you want?” He finally broke the quiet and you hid the grin.

“Wondered what you were up to.”

“None of your business.” He sounded so abrupt, an effort to distance himself and push you away. Except you could feel what he was trying to hide. Crosshair was struggling, much like you were. He didn’t know where he fit anymore. He wasn’t doing well with the amount of people here, the sunlight was throwing off his aim as well as the strange noises of life; after being confined in silence for months on end. It all made him feel alienated.

Part of him didn’t want to be here, thinking he belonged back in the bowels of Tantiss, rotting and forgotten. He almost couldn’t be happy with the fact he was free. He had too many demons.

A spike of pain lanced through his presence and you jerked upright to see him shake and flex his right hand. “Again,” he demanded of the droid.

“I calculated your current shooting accuracy and you have a 43% chance of hitting the target,” the droid called from where it hovered above the sea.

“Calculate me hitting you right in the processor.”Crosshair snarled icily, sighting down his rifle.

“That would be an even lower—ah!” The droid spun again, bobbing in the air with another near miss from the rifle.

You took a breath to say something when Crosshair turned to look at you over his shoulder.

“Shut up, or go away.” His gaze flickered to a point above you, then he went back to his target practice. With a scowl you debated what to do. You felt a connection with Crosshair, your demons had the same name after all. He had briefly shown you some understanding yesterday, letting that shine through his usual indifference.

Still, he was too agitated right now and Hunter was watching, adding to Crosshair’s reluctance to engage with you.

Hunter met you on the other side of the cave entrance, not saying a word as he fell into step beside you.

The path you took was random, climbing higher and higher up the island until you arrived at the very top of Pabu. A grand tree stood here, the trunk wide and aged with little critters chattering in the branches. You came to a stop, staring at the green tufts around the base.

You knew it was called grass, but you had no idea what it felt like. Was it warm? Cold? Wet? Soft? Prickly? So you sat on the half wall, relishing the shade the tree threw. Hunter settled next to you, quite content to sit in silence.

“Are you my shadow now?” He tried to stifle a chuckle, seemingly much more at ease with you since the talk earlier.

“It must be overwhelming being here.” As he spoke, you gently spread your fingers in the short grass. It was cool, slightly prickly but the strands gave way beneath your touch. Tears collected in the corner of your eyes. It had been so long since you’d experienced outside, you almost didn’t want to go back into the house.

“Did I enjoy being outside? You know…before?” He thought for a moment, the breeze teasing a strand of dark hair over his bandana.

“You did. Though your favourite place was the Marauder.” The mentioned ship stood tall and proud in the space, wings folded in the landing position and the ramp was open. This must have been how you go here, as the imperial cargo ship was nowhere to be seen.

“Can I?” He smiled, titling his head towards the ship in permission. Hunter let you go up the ramp alone, settling on the steps like a silent guardian.

The outside brightness dimmed, giving way to the comfortable shade of the ship. There were two console screens with fixed chairs, a row of emergency seats lined one side of the hull and on the other were some very basic bunks.

A gonk droid beeped at you, waddling forwards and bumping into your body. “Hey little guy.” You gave him a pat as you slipped past him.

The gunners pit had a curtain that covered the hatch, some decorative lights and a little nest of blankets on the floor. There was a red and black doll sitting on the floor and that was all you needed, to know this was Omega’s space.

There were some storage panels to the left of the gunners pit, you didn’t open them though. You were distracted.

The bottom bunk rested at waist height, at first glance there was nothing special about it. But when you touched the base…

The tension filled your body, gripping every muscle until you were locked in position. Tech lay on the bunk, pale and barely breathing. Your hand was pressed against his leg but blood still welled up, covering your hand, seeping into his cut clothes. It dripped over the side of the bunk with a soft splat. You could smell the blood, taste it at the back of your throat. It whipped your fear into a frenzy when you felt his life ebb away from your grip…

“Stitch?”

It was like breaking the surface after struggling for breath. The vision faded, but the intense feelings remained. Especially when you looked at who had just walked in. You couldn’t breathe, words fled to leave you gawking in shock. He shifted under your stare, adjusting his goggles and carefully avoiding looking you directly in the eyes

“Are you well?”

“Oh, Tech,” you breathed with so much emotion, he gripped his datapad tightly, breath hitching noticeably. You tried to expel the emotions from the vision so you could smile and excuse yourself. Instead you could only stifle a half sob with a shaky hand.

Everything was made so much clearer. He had been the person you saw in some of your visions on Tantiss. After the escape from Lau, you dreamed of him again, cycling through memories that could only be yours and his. And the way he’d managed to calm you after the incident with the medic, even though he made you feel confused and disorientated.

“Stitch?” His whisper was laced with concern and he went to step towards you, almost rocking on the balls of his feet to stop himself getting too close. You could feel it, the part of you that had been lost in the dark, greedily reaching for him.

Tech’s presence touched yours, delicately entwining the longer you both stood there staring at each other. He felt achingly familiar, your fingers itched to press onto his chest, to breathe his air and never surface from him again.

He was safe.

He was home.

You felt how much Tech wanted to touch you. His desires pulsed in cresting waves, making yours break free from the box you’d put them in. What would it be like to fall into his arms and forget everything that had happened?

Then the doubts came. Did you want to fall into him because he was safe? Because you knew, like it was engraved on your bones, that he would shield you from everything that came your way.

He was sort of the man to throw himself in plunging cold water to save someone he loved, without knowing how deep it was. To run through fire, to protect them with his body while he took bolts from the enemy. You didn’t deserve any of that.

“I, um. I have to go.” You couldn’t bear the crestfallen look on his face or the fracturing heartbreak that trembled through his presence and into yours.

“I would like to talk to you.”

“Another time.” You were almost at the hatch, outside beckoned when you felt the featherlight touch on your hand.

It stopped you in your tracks.

The sense of his trepidation and elation that he had been brave enough to touch you, made your eyes clench shut, desperate not to give in.

“Tech, please.” You couldn’t speak louder than a whisper, but internally you were screaming. Ripped in half by the desire to curl into his embrace while the other half wanted to run away and never look back.

His fingers twitched against yours. His thought process was almost tangible with the physical connection and it was weakening your resolve. Everything was crumbling, the barriers you had carefully constructed during your imprisonment were cracking even more than they had with Hunter.

The last clone you had let in, was probably dead because he dared to show how much he cared. If there was one person you didn’t want to drag to the depths with your chaotic energy, it was Tech.

Kind, steadfast, loyal, exceptional Tech.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but unable to pull away from him, the pair of you connected by outstretched hands and nothing else. A lump rose in your throat at the brief and barely perceptible squeeze he gave you.

“Another time then.” And just like that, he released you.

The loss of him gave you no choice but to walk forward. Practically stumbling down the steps of the ramp where the floor rushed to meet you.

“Whoa!” Strong arms snatched you upright, twirling you round and then settling you firmly back on your two feet. “You ok?”

The large clone, Wrecker, had saved you from smashing your face on the floor. An intricate scar covered one side of his face, spiderwebbing out in a deep burn mark, which no doubt related to the discolouration in his left eye.

He was regarding you hesitantly, his large hands held up in a defensive position and he even backed up a step. You could feel his nerves because he had been told not to touch you. And he’d broken that one rule.

“Wrecker. Right?” His face lit up, a smile coming from nowhere and it made him look so much younger.

“You remember?” He asked eagerly.

“No. Sorry. But Omega talked about you a lot.”

“S’ok,” he mumbled. “How you feelin’?” What a loaded question. He shimmered with boundless amounts of energy, it made you want to move all the time because it was so infectious.

“I was just checking out the ship,” you told him, trying not falter.

“Oh! Triggering memories! Did ya get anythin’?” You swallowed, feeling the tightness in your throat as you did.

“No. No nothing.”

“Oh.” He sounded genuinely disappointed for you. “I could try and help you remember some stuff? If you want.” You had nothing better to do right now. Hunter had vanished, obviously thinking he could leave you with Tech.

“Sure. Want to get something to eat?” You asked. He laughed heartily in response, putting his hands on his hips.

“I always want food. C’mon.” You sneaked a look back at the ship, slightly disappointed you couldn’t see Tech and then you felt plagued with selfishness.

Maybe…maybe you should have stayed and talked to him.

Tech was trying to concentrate. However, there were far too many distractions happening right now. Phee was telling Omega and Lyana about a daring rescue of some other worldly artefact she recently brought back. Wrecker was sat next to him, laughing loudly at something Shep had said across the table. Crosshair was brooding on a chair in the corner, his hand resting on the lurca hound Omega named Batcher.

It was a relationship that surprised Tech. Crosshair had never been one for obviously showing attachment to anyone, let alone an animal. The hound had come from Tantiss, demonstrating some severe domestication traits that would have ultimately led to her termination if she hadn’t escaped.

The sound of a chair moving over the terrace made Tech look to his left, tipping his chair back slightly so he could see around Wrecker’s massive shoulders.

You were smiling.

It made his heart slam into his ribs harder than normal, and it was at Hunter.

Tech recognised the tilt of your head, the way your nose scrunched. You were saying you were fine, but Tech noticed how blank your face became when you thought no one was looking.

His hand flexed against his thigh. It ached occasionally…and then to see you staring at the bunk where he knew you had initially saved his life. The look on your face back on the ship had stuttered his breathing. Your eyes had cried out to him and it had taken every fibre of his being not to pull you against him. Tech was desperate when he took your hand, to feel how real you were.

“You seem distracted, brown eyes.” All four legs of his chair hit the floor and the sensation jarred him back to the present.

“I had been thinking the flight controls need calibrating on the Marauder,” Tech told Phee. It wasn’t a lie. He had been thinking that until you distracted him. Just by existing. What Hemlock did to you, he still didn’t know. But it left a bitter taste in his mouth. In his eyes, Hemlock had stolen from you and by proxy, from Tech.

“Do you ever switch off?” Phee nudged his shoulder and he went with the motion, refraining from rolling his eyes.

His gaze settled on the corner where Crosshair had been sitting, to find it empty. It wasn’t unusual for his most reserved brother to sneak off. He glanced over at where you stood by the wall, tuning out Phee and the others once more.

Your back was to Tech, staring out at the sea and the darkening sky. With Crosshair beside you. Tech frowned. This behaviour was out of character, his brother would never seek out someone in a group — not the old Crosshair anyway.

Tech tried to not look over so much as the pair of you chatted for what seemed like hours but then you laughed. Laughed. A sound he hadn’t heard in such a long time.

“Tech.”

You were touching Crosshair’s hand now? Carefully, smoothing your fingers over his palm..

“Tech.” His attention dragged to Hunter, still scowling behind his goggles. “Help me with these?” Tech stood up too fast, his chair knocked over followed by a mocking cheer from Wrecker. To his absolute mortification, you and Crosshair looked over at the noise, as well as everyone else. A warmth rose to his cheeks and Wrecker righted the chair for him.

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” Phee asked, twisting in her own chair to face him. He stared at her a second, unable to form words. It was so loud, he could feel you watching him, hear Wrecker saying something, Hunter’s baritone voice joined the cacophony and the girls were laughing.

“I need to leave.” He explained sharply, ramming his goggles into his face, though it did nothing to lessen the embarrassment that burned there. Tech wasn’t someone to be easily shaken. He had performed under immense pressure behind enemy lines, able to tune out the loudest of distractions. He had the ability to shoot droids he saw moving out of his peripheral while performing some intricate data encryption. But he could not tolerate being around you and not touch you, talk to you…he didn’t understand. Logically, he did. Emotionally, he did not.

Intense feelings, he had found, weren’t something you could eradicate. Tech could readily admit he was jealous of how easy you seemed to have it with everyone else. Hunter, he had assumed would be the first person you connected with, even Wrecker maybe. But not even want to experience his companionship, wounded him greatly.

Thankfully, the Marauder loomed and he slipped aboard, locking the ramp. He stood in the dark and the quiet for a moment, giving himself time to calm down, to stop his hands from shaking and to think clearly.

Now, he could work on calibrating the flight controls. He readied his tools, adding some to his belt, laying others on the control panel. However, no sooner had he settled himself in front of the controls, there was a knock on the hull of the ship. He decided to ignore it, concentrating on locking the mechanism in neural.

Knock knock.

Tech sighed. He had been looking forward to getting lost in the ship and now he was having to deal with either Hunter or Phee checking on him. Tech pressed a button on his vambrace and the ramp activated.

“I have some repairs to attend to on the main systems,” he informed whoever it was. Standing up so he could grab his favourite tool and give it a once over with a cloth. “I will not be sleeping at the house tonight.” He didn’t soften his tone, he wanted to be left alone. How much clearer did he have to be?

“I just came to check on you.” The tool slipped from his grip, clanging in a dead drop to the floor.

The tool you had given him at the Love Festival on Ord Mantell.

#sanctuary #sanctuary part 2 #tech x reader #tech x you #tech x f!reader #tech the bad batch #the bad batch #tech tbb #tbb tech #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch fanfic #star wars

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megamuscle885-blog · 5 months

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Big thanks to @tgirlblogger who reminded me with a like to post this today this morning like I planned.

TORTUGA

Tinker 8 - All-in-one Mech, redundancy/life support tinker.

Citadel Architect, or Conglomerate Architect from the weaverdice document fit best here. Everything she makes feeds into her Mech, her magnum opus, a career spanning megaproject that is constantly 'unfinished' but still capable of combat. Much of her tinker methodology is inventing something and then discovering how it fits into the design of her machine. She believes her power is 'alive' and whispering the secrets of the universe to her, but she alternates between truly treating her power like it's alive and thinking it's just her subconscious needing a rubber duck to let itself out. (It's both, her shard is exactly like her only with a blue-orange mentality from being a giant space world-machine.)

She also has some extremely sophisticated parahuman scanning equipment built into her sensors and her quasi-AI computer co-pilot she's built to handle the automatic functions of her Mech. Her best work is made this way; scan parahumans (more in-depth scans are better but she's still taking passive scans of everyone she comes in contact with), create equipment inspired by parahumans, plug that component into the machine, the machine's secrets are revealed a little more and the puzzle is growing complete, iterate on new inspirations driven from the new tech's installation to upgrade previous tech until new well of inspiration is expended, repeat.

The consequence of this is that though her Mech is one of the most intensely iterated pieces of tinkertech in the world, she herself doesn't have much in the way of portable technology.

Glasses that record what she sees and hears with rear view cameras built into the frames that hang over her ears.

A pilot's plugsuit that is durable and temperature controlled and wicks away sweat and grime so she can wear it indefinitely.

A helmet much like a fighter pilot's that allows her to have a HUD and aim/control the mech manually via remote.

All of these things are mundane enough that they could be made without tinkertech, but customized to work with her Mech in a way no mundane tech could.

I'm not too sure on her trauma or how to make it fit. It could be that we simply don't cover it in the scope of the story. I feel like her self induced isolation within her Mech is part of it. She can't sleep comfortably outside of it, and even then for barely an hour. She'll start to become restless and hyper-vigilant while outside of it for any extended period of time. It's her safe space in a thousand different little ways. She's lost her Mech once before and had to rebuild it from damaged parts, almost from scratch, though she hasn't lost anything in terms of progress or discoveries. Tortuga Mk2 is a much more successful version of her initial machine.

Her specialty as a redundancy and life support tinker is best shown in how many backups she has for her technology. Chemical thrusters as backup for her anti-grav. Viewports as backup for cameras which are interchangeable with lidar, sonar, radar and gravity sensors to detect strangers, all within a camera drone net. Anti-thinker tech. Multiple shielding barriers, some based on slowing projectiles, others based on resisting them as hard as possible, then reactive armor behind them, then ceramics, soft armor, hard armor, etc. while a point defense system watches over all of it. The idea is that her Mech should resemble some of the most intense combined arms technology possible, while her inner sanctum exists to keep the VIP (her) as alive as possible. I may have to read up a little more on Lancer to get more inspiration. Hyper reflex mode, the deck-sweeper automatic shotgun (I intend to have it as a belt-fed gatling shotgun), Watchdog Co-pilot, all awesome things that inspired the character.

This didn't end up being the character bio I hoped for, but it's the one I'm posting. I'll probably end up expanding here later. Her history in central america will require some research I think, and some extrapolation on the kind of conflicts around Eidolon's zone of influence in Texas down towards Mexico and South America. Earth Bet's USA feels a bit isolationist in foreign policy to me, especially as Endbringers started cropping up, and Leviathan started crippling international shipping, and the Simurgh makes air travel daunting. I wonder what kind of influence Earth Bet's USA holds over Haiti, the Dominican Republic, or Mexico, all historically within the USA's zone of influence.

I also haven't yet thought of a name for her since I also don't know in my mind where she's from. There's this murky idea of a shaved head and pale skin and sunken eyes with bags under them, but an overall chipper attitude in private (within the comfort of her mech) and a terse mercenary facade when she puts on for her client or 'co-workers' whoever they end up being. I'm thinking something voiced by Jennifer Hale in that icy renegade Sheppard style. She's constantly got her tinker on a leash anytime she speaks to people, but would rapidly open up and turn into a motormouth if she's being encouraged and feels safe to unleash her thoughts and interests on others. Turtles are a big non-tinker special interest I think. I may have to do research on Turtles. Fuck.

#worm #wormblr #parahumans #worm spoilers #worm fanfiction #tortuga - parahumans

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minniethemoocherda · 6 months

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Iridescent: Chapter 16

A/N: I'm not really happy with this chapter. I've been thinking about this scene basically since I came up with the fic and I perhaps because I've been imagining it so long I'll never get it exactly how I want it. IDK. Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed it! XXxxxxx

FF.net

Ao3

Jazz had barely been gone for a week, but Prowl hadn't noticed the role the spy played in keeping up base morale until it was gone.

Many of the mechs on board the Ark had known Bumblebee since he was a newspark and their overwhelming distress with no immediate outlet had lead to Prowl having to throw more than one mech into the brig for fighting.

Prowl was surprised to find that he himself was affected by Jazz's absence. He hadn't realised how much the spy had become part of his daily routine what with all their shared reports and overlapping responsibilities. That was until his HUD alerted him to his dangerously low fuel levels as he had spent an entire day in his office without Jazz to trick him into taking a fuel break. Prowl was even surprised to find himself disappointed that they would miss their scheduled chess match.

His relief when he learnt that Jazz had returned with Bumblebee was short lived as Prowl had quickly been forced to set up an impromptu security detail around the med-bay so that Ratchet could work in peace without being stormed by an army of worried soldiers. Thankfully, by the evening, news had spread that Ratchet had been able to stabilise the young mech and Prowl finally had enough free time to complete his post mission check in with Jazz.

Or at least he would if he could actually find the mech.

Prowl had checked his office, the rec room and even the med bay again. But there was no sign of the spy anywhere. Using his powers of deduction, Prowl calculated that there was only place left that Jazz could be. His room.

Prowl knocked on a door that had been adorned with old band stickers and movie posters who's stars were all long dead by now. There was no answer. Prowl knocked again, more firmly this time. But still there was no reply.

He tried Jazz's comm link for what felt like the millionth time that day and was unsurprised when this too wielded an unsuccessful result.

Prowl was about to knock again when he heard a crash from the other side of the door.

"Commander?" Prowl called out.

The responding crash was not a good sign.

At worst fearing that a Deception had managed to track the spy home and attack him in his quarters, Prowl entered his emergency override code and barged the door open.

Prowl had never been to Jazz's room before, so he wasn't sure what he expected it to be like. Perhaps covered more in of the band and movie posters like it had been adorned on the outside. But he certainly had not expected it to look like this.

Jazz's room was beyond a mess. It was a wreck. It appeared as though someone had literally been tearing at the walls and the stench of highgrade was palpable even from the door. It didn't take a genius to determine that it was emanating from the broken cubes and empty bottles that were smashed all over the floor

Although the wrecked state of the room that was nothing compared to Jazz himself. The spy was shaking as he huddled in the corner, somehow smaller than Prowl had ever seen him before. In his obviously over-charged state, he must not have heard Prowl previous attempts at communication.

“Are you alri-”

Before Prowl’s processor could even comprehend what was happening, Jazz had him pinned against the wall, vibro blade stabbed into the metal next to his head.

The first thing that Prowl's brain registered was that the edge of the blade was coated in the crystals of spilt energon. He did not know who's it previously belonged to.

Prowl forced his attention back to his fellow commander. Jazz’s eyes were hidden under his visor but even with it being barely two inches from his face, Prowl could tell that whatever the spy was glaring it, it was not at him. It was looking at something that neither of them could see.

This was not the first time Prowl had been witness to what was now obviously an episode of PTSD. Bluestreak had suffered from many such attacks times after the destruction of Praxus. Although Bluestreak's usually resulted in an uncharacteristic silence, not an attempt at violence. Still Prowl determined that following a similar routine to what he previously did with Bluestreak was the best cause of option.

“You are on the Ark. You are in your room. And you are safe." Prowl stated, trying not to gag on the stench of waste that overwhelmed him after he opened his mouth.

Jazz didn’t respond the first time, his visor glassy as coolant leaked from under its rim. He didn’t respond the second time either But by the third, the glassy look had lessened, and despite not being able to see his optics, Prowl could tell that Jazz's eyes were actually looking into Prowl’s even if what they were seeing was still someone else.

Suddenly Jazz shoved him away and threw the knife so hard it embedded itself to the hilt into the wall.

Prowl watched as Jazz stalked back and forth across the room, growling nonsense to himself like a caged animal as energon leaking between his seams, splattering the floor in a illuminated coat of pink.

It wasn't until Prowl's battle computer informed him that Jazz had whether intentionally or not blocked the door, that Prowl realised how much danger he was in.

He had vowed that he wouldn't be swayed by they spy's charisma like the rest of their army had. However, it was now apparent that he too had unwittingly been left defenceless in the wake of Jazz's charms.

Prowl couldn't help glancing at the knife embedded into the wall. He calculated that his chance of survival relied entirely on it.

“Have you ever been tortured mech?” Jazz asked suddenly, startling Prowl from his thoughts.

“No.” Prowl replied.

“Wouldn’t recommend it.” Jazz laughed without any of his usual warmth, the noise coming out delirious and fake. “I did recommend Bumblebee though. I didn't even realise that I had been moulding him into the perfect agent. I sent him on his mission. And I-” Jazz looked down at his fists, balled so tight that Prowl worried the joints would snap. "I did this to him."

“Megatron was the one who hurt Bumblebee. Not you.” Prowl reminded him, keeping his sights trained on the spy as he tried to creep slowly to the opposite side of the room.

Jazz gave no outwards appearance that he had heard his words. But he also gave no indication that he hadn't either so Prowl took his chance.

“What do you need Jazz?" he asked "Do you want me to call someone for you?”

“I can’t fuck Mirage.”

“Okay”. Prowl was not even going to attempt to decipher the meaning behind that. “I can call Rung?”

As Prowl went to look up the ship’s therapist on his wrist screen, the knife appeared again. This time at his throat. Jazz’s other hand surrounded his wrist. That glossy look returning to his visor.

“You can’t!" Jazz begged. "If you tell Rung, he’s gonna take me off missions again and he can’t- I can’t- I need-" Jazz struggled to find his words as his vents tripped over each other in a fight to breathe. "You- you can’t tell anyone about this!”

One trait that Prowl had to reluctantly admit he had always admired about Jazz was that no matter the situation, he always exuded an aura of being in total control. That semblance of an aura was now shattered at the sight of the pleading, crying mess of a mech in front of him.

Prowl clasped his free hand over were Jazz’s was currently wrapped around his arm, hoping it would ground him to their reality.

“What friends am I going to tell?” Prowl replied in honesty.

Jazz barked out a laugh. It was harsh and shrill to Prowl’s audio receptors but it was real.

“Was that a fucking joke? Commander Prowl making jokes? Primus the world really is collapsing in on itself.” That glassy look hadn't entirely gone from Jazz’s visor. But it at least appeared to have shocked him back to this plane of existence as he finally backed away, dropping the knife and letting his other arm go limp, even if his hand still clung to Prowl’s wrist.

Prowl waited a few minute as Jazz’s breath caught up with his vents, until his breathing was relatively even and the room was almost bathed in silence.

“What do you need Jazz?” Prowl asked once again.

“I don’t know.” They were barely above a whisper, but those three words were probably the most truthful Jazz had ever been with him.

Jazz seemed to finally realise that he was still holding onto Prowl's arm as he snatched his servo back, eyes widening at the small crack in Prowl’s wrist screen.

To be honest, Prowl hadn’t even noticed it cracking. It didn't even hurt. He’d done more damage accidentally bumping into a desk before. And it wasn't as if this was the worst injury Jazz had ever given him. The scar on his arm stung with the reminder. But drawing attention to that would be more likely to unsettle Jazz further which would not be good for Prowl's odds of survival. Before Prowl could try to diffuse the situation on his own Jazz spoke.

“You should go.” He said, now refusing to look at Prowl at all.

Despite his battle computer telling him that he should run, Prowl hesitated.

Jazz was far still from function at a state of normality but thankfully he was more stable then when he had arrived.

Yet for some reason, a part of Prowl that didn’t belong to his processor, didn’t want to leave the mech alone.

However it was impossible to argue with his logic circuits and Prowl knew that leaving was the only way to ensure his spark kept beating.

So with one last look at the mech that Prowl now realised that he knew next to nothing about, he left.

#transformers #jazzprowl #jazz #prowl #tf jazz #tf prowl #transformers jazz #transformers prowl #prowljazz #jazz x prowl #bumblebee #bluestreak #iridescent #transformers fanfiction #rung #mirage

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