#briefly though

[sarcasticmothdraws]

Wowee another timelapse

[anony-man]

Some Delphi doctor Pharma thoughts because, well… why not? More specifically, a thought-out explanation for successfully hiding the very, very illegal business of organ harvesting (or cog harvesting, if you’re Pharma). Very, very long, and mainly Pharma-centric. Also TW for mild mentions of gore below (near the end):

It would have been a very, very good question to ask how in the world he’d managed to get into the practice of harvesting cogs for the enemy, but that isn’t exactly the focus here. What it came down to, for the most part, was being stationed at Delphi of all areas. It was a rough place to work, and it had quite the reputation of being the worst of the worst when it came to practitioners AND survival rates. The extra factors were probably due to the fact that an ex-Decepticon and a war frame were both in high ranks of the medical staff (not to mention the awful habit Cybertron’s governors had of actually making sure funds went to keeping heat and lights on in the building), but none of this phased Pharma. When the offer—well, not so much offer as it was threat to end his life and career if he didn’t accept—came up, he wasn’t exactly in a place to decline.

It was easy work, really. All he had to do was stay after hours and harvest cogs from dead patients before they left to be cremated, or buried, or recycled, or… well, whatever their loved ones chose to do. He was practically running the hospital at that point, and no one had ever questioned his authority. Besides, no medical staff outside of himself and Ambulon had ever worked at Delphi for more than a few months tops. Delphi’s hospital was severely understaffed with one or two medical drones patrolling the area outside of himself and Ambulon, but that’s the way Pharma would have had it. After all, it’s what made his awful situation possible.

Besides… If push came to shove, and by some miracle someone found out about his forced ties with the DJD, he could always blame Ambulon. It would be easy enough to frame him, after all. No one would believe him, anyway. Not with his past as an ex ‘Con. Pharma wasn’t much better, being built a war frame despite his work in the medical field, but what choice did he have?

Things were going well, at first. Pharma was averaging at about three to four cogs a month, give or take a few. Despite what outsiders said, Delphi was typically the place where those too far gone came to live their last moments in the peace and comfort medical support was able to offer, so the supply was always steady. That is, it was steady, until Pharma got a rather threatening letter in the mail. The DJD had begun to demand four times what he was averaging, and that number was expected every two weeks.

The first time he took a life with his own hands, Pharma had felt physically ill. He spent the rest of the day locked up in his office, ignoring Ambulon’s pestering concerns with the complaint that he was feeling unwell, which was true, but that he didn’t require support, which was… well, sort of true. He’d barely managed to make it through a ration of energon that evening, and he’d spent most of the night forcing down bottle after bottle of cheap alcoholic drinks. The overwhelming guilt didn’t last long, however, since Pharma knew he couldn’t physically keep it up. He’d have to tough it out, take in a few extra cogs from living patients, and maybe—just maybe—his circumstances would change.

As expected, things most certainly did not change. At least, not for the better. Enter First Aid, who soon became a sort of Achilles heel to Pharma’s process. The new doctor was young and inexperienced, practically fresh out of the academy from what Pharma had heard. For the first few weeks, Pharma was absolutely relentless in his blatant dislike of First Aid, and he took every chance he could get to publicly disapprove or humiliate the young doctor when he could. It felt awful, it really did. But given the very dangerous situation he found himself in, he couldn’t risk having more than one other doctor around the hospital floors.

First Aid wasn’t supposed to have lasted as long as he did. One week became two, which became four, which turned into one month, but still, Pharma relented. He chastised the young medic every chance he could get and occasionally gave crude, condescending remarks about question just how long First Aid would last before he, too, dropped out of the Delphi work force. Would he even remain a doctor, Pharma wondered? Would the stress from his experience at Delphi turn him away from any and all future medical endeavors? He’d hoped it might end that way—not for his sake, but for First Aid’s safety. Still, his nagging coworker who still struggled to turn over a new leaf was also relentless, but in the aspect of helping the new recruit. Before Pharma knew it, Ambulon was taking First Aid under his wing, showing him the ropes. It was infuriating, and it posed a very, very great threat to Pharma’s new business.

Primus, he grew so nervous during that time, so very, very nervous. He shouldn’t have been doing it at all. Everything, all of it—the manipulation, the twisted work, the criticism to both First Aid’s character and his career, it was all so fucked up in the worst way. It was unethical. It was awful, it… it was—ohh fuck. Fuck, what choice did he have? He didn’t have one. He had no choice at all, and this was how things would end. A well-known, well respected medic who’d risen above the hierarchy and racism, only to destroy it all after doing such dirty work for the DJD.

Despite his petty and discreet efforts, First Aid relented. It was nearing six months into the young medic’s employment at Delphi when Pharma realized he needed to do something different, and fast. He had already experienced one too many close calls, what with the nosy little doctor running into him after hours on the wrong floor at the wrong time. Sexual innuendos and workplace relationships had only gotten him so far with Ambulon, and after an awkward interface session in the washracks while bodies lay decomposing in locked bathroom stalls mere feet away, Pharma simply couldn’t take it anymore. Drastic measures had to be taken, unfortunately, and despite the medical oaths he’d sworn to observe and the many, many moral boundaries he’d never wanted to cross, Pharma was no longer against twisting the tables in his own favor.

He started out innocently enough. Aid was a smart one, of course, and Pharma caught the skeptical looks the young medic gave him every time he dared to bring up Delphi’s sketchy past. Despite the visor covering his optics and the mask he wore nearly all the time, it wasn’t hard to gauge First Aid’s reaction, and given a few weeks, Pharma knew it was starting to take a toll on the new medic. It was only when Ambulon had begun to scold him behind closed doors for “scaring” First Aid that Pharma realized he needed to push things up a notch.

He wasn’t a terrible person. Truly, he wasn’t. He never meant for any of it to happen, and he had never intended for First Aid to be affected so deeply or for his own reputation to be tarnished. He’d known his fate was sealed the moment he was given over to the DJD as their own personal provider of anything organ-related, but that didn’t make him a bad person, right? He was only doing his job. He was doing what he had been forced to do. He was still a doctor, a good person. Right? He was still him. He still saved lives, he still helped others, he still held the role and responsibility of being a strong, confident medic. He was a good person, right? Right?

He hadn’t been thinking all that clearly when it had happened. Still, the pieces just so happened to fall into place, and Pharma knew that his secret was sealed for at least a few months. He had been in the process of dragging the most recent body into a storage closet for safe keeping while he dealt with other more impending issues when it had occurred. Of course, shoving a dead corpse into an old closet wasn’t the best course of action, but with his mind starting to crack under the pressure and his options starting to slim, Pharma knew he didn’t have much of a choice.

He could hear the sound of quiet pedesteps entering into the washracks. It was First Aid, he knew, stopping to get cleaned up after a long shift. He always came into the washracks at this time, after every shift. Primus, he did it almost daily. How could Pharma have forgotten? How could he have forgotten?

Never mind that, he supposed. Pharma had waited until First Aid was rifling through his belongings and getting everything unneeded placed into a locker (really, with there only being three bots capable of making it to the washracks, what was the need for the locker?) before making a run for the shower stalls. He had thrown the body over one shoulder as he headed there, and as expected, it made quite the sound. Instead of hearing a bout of silence to follow the sudden interruption of First Aid’s prep-work, he was instead met with a small, startled gasp from the young medic. He paused in the middle of pulling the curtain shut and waited, just in case his cover was to be blown. He would hate to do it, but if he needed to take out one of his fellow medics—

“Is someone out there?” First Aid had called out, the anxiety practically dripping from his voice.

If Pharma hadn’t been so busy with not getting caught carrying a corpse around, he would’ve felt a little bad for the poor doctor’s frazzled nerves. Still, a job had to be done, and a job was what he was going to do. Pharma laid the corpse down onto the shower stall and, after quietly drawing the curtains back to hide it, made his way towards the exit. He managed to escape without running into First Aid, which would end up being a blessed accident for him in the next ten minutes.

Pharma was nearly halfway to his office when he heard it. A guttural, blood-curdling scream that sent a chill racing down his spine. He knew what had happened, of course, but the sound—Primus, the sound, the palpable horror and fear in the air as First Aid screamed—it would stick with him for a very, very long time. It didn’t take long before Ambulon was rushing down the hallway, a mixed look of confusion and concern plastered across his face as though First Aid—a disposable, inexperienced waste of space on their hospital’s floor—could have actually meant anything to him.

Pharma turned around quickly enough to see First Aid bursting out of the washracks, his entire frame rattling with choked sobs that even Pharma could see the plating shift and grind from such a long distance. He couldn’t quite make out the words—not that the poor medic was saying anything legible, but still—from where he stood, but from the way First Aid all but collapsed against Ambulon’s front, wailing about a “dead body” and the poor soul he’d just checked on so and so minutes ago and the guilt he felt, oh the guilt. What could have he done differently? Was it his fault? Was he to blame? God, why couldn’t he stop crying? He couldn’t breathe, Ambulon, he couldn’t breathe—

It ended up being too much to bear, too much to witness. Pharma slipped past with a distant pat to Ambulon’s shoulder and muttered something about giving First Aid a little something to take the edge off before he headed in to “take a look.” Of course, Pharma took the chance to properly dispose of the body so that nothing else could be said about the standalone incident, and when Ambulon had come in sometime later and informed him that First Aid was in the medibay sleeping off some heavy sedatives, Pharma was more than willing to show him the now-empty and pristine shower stalls. Every one of them, too, not just the one that had just so happened to inhabit the… the victim.

It didn’t come as much of a surprise when, a week later, there was a new medic among their ranks. First Aid had hardly even gone to the third floor—the floor where the incident had occured—at all during the week, and he had barely managed to keep himself moving throughout the normal shift changes. At first, Pharma expected him to drop out of the hospital staff like all of the other medics before him, but no. Instead, he was treated to a new recruit.

Ratchet was his name, Pharma recalls. Ratchet, Ambulon’s acquaintance, First Aid’s temporary mentor, and Pharma’s mortal enemy. Well, mortal enemy and secret obsession. If there was one thing Pharma had become good at during his many months spent harvesting the cogs of helpless victims, it was casting illusions. Though he had taken a deep, almost toxic, interest in Ratchet, Pharma knew he was more than capable of keeping up the charades.

[thequestioning-maiden]

Hi friends! I know I have several unanswered asks and most of them are about anti yash**ime issues. Please be patient, I'm currently in exams at school, but I will be answering them soon 😊✨ Just a few things about it:

* I may answer them without tagging, cause I don't want to hog the anti tags, so I suggest following this blog so you know when I post or answer asks :)

* By the way, I'm deleting the asks where you send me links, especially the anonymous ones for two reasons: 1 obviously for security as I don't know where those links go to and 2 cause some are links to shippers' blogs, and I want to avoid the possibility that someone might think it's okay to go attack such blogs. You can tell me what you think about what you saw or read in other spaces, but please DO NOT send links :)

As always, remember this is an anti ses**rin and anti Yash**ime blog so shippers: DNI

Thanks and take care friends!

[queeniecook]

May 26

After days and nights of stewing on her conversation with her younger sister - Liberty is ready to ask James the burning question. Is he planning to do something to Caleb's and Vera's baby? She knows she can't just ask him this. She has to play it right. Like she wants in on his plan, which she doesn't. Even though she despises Caleb, the idea of physically harming a child or baby makes her feel sick to her stomach.

After asking him about his day, which she normally does, trying to be a good wife - though she doesn't always get the whole story from him, she broaches the subject.

"So, Vera's baby shower was yesterday..." She starts. She knows this because Lilith left town yesterday all dressed up, carrying gift bags that said "for baby" on them. Yes, she spies on Forgotten Hollow. There's not much to do at times when you're immortal.

"Indeed it was." James says with a nod. He has his sources, outside of his beautiful wife to keep him in on the happenings with his least favorite people. 

"If you have a plan to make Caleb suffer, I want in." Liberty says with malice. The idea of Caleb suffering is awfully appealing and so she is able to channel that, hopefully making herself believable.

James stares at his wife and Liberty is actually starting to worry. She worries he sees right through her and is going to figure out why she's truly asking.

James for his part is wondering why she's asking. He knows she hates Caleb and wouldn't bat an eye at ripping him to him shreds but he senses something is off. He smirks at her after a long moment, then again - she may just be bored and vengeful - like when she hasn't drank blood in a few days.

James slowly caresses his wife's cheek. "I appreciate your blood thirst for revenge dear but I don't have anything planned. I'm simply enjoying Caleb running around in a panic thinking I do."

Liberty isn't sure if she believes him but knows she won't get anywhere pushing the subject. She simply nods at him as he starts playing with her hair, something he knows she enjoys.

She goes upstairs with him. They both have needs and James while despicable is very good at fulfilling her needs in the bedroom.

[fictionfixations]

made up a jujutsu technique for a fic

haha havent posted in a hot minute. forgot i had this account acutally.

anyway im writing a jjk crossover, and im so stuck on Fontaine and Furina's story you can see its influenced it a lot. its not a genshin crossover though lmfao. i still have the dialogue memorized. "For the sinner, the curtain call has come."

this is also influenced by. well. MANGA SPOILERS (for like the. preparation arc whatcha ma call it? post-shibuya). but. you know. that guy who when he hits like the jackpot he gets like. basically immortal for as long as like i think the theme song lasts?? but he can like, keep triggering more of like th thingies so if hes really lucky iirc, he could keep going on and on?

(Melpomene, the innate technique where he’d put on a ‘mask’ and perform for an invisible audience. Effects vary depending on the type and/or popularity points gained. Unable to be harmed when this is in effect, however in turn, making an error such as going off script, messing up, or being boring/unsatisfying will grant him punishment.

Alternatively, if he goes off script or does an action not in the performance but making it entertaining will grant him bonus points with the audience. This can include attacks against enemies, especially with the use of cursed energy and whatever weapon he has, however messing up will of course provide consequences.

Think of it as a judgement scale but based on audience reaction. Horrible performances leave him ‘sentenced’. One of those sentences include the death sentence (more likely to be triggered by a shameful defeat, where he’s facing an opponent so overpowering that the audience isn’t happy. When it happens, the blade of a guillotine will rise above his head, and he will perform [The Curtain Call], dancing his last moments away, before finally lowering his head, bowing to the audience, and decapitating himself), the risk granting him more power then otherwise. 

When giving what could be considered a perfect performance (very rare), he will trigger [Apotheosis], automatically forming a domain named [Sinner’s Finale] with a sure-hit factor, where the opponent is on the stage, facing the judgement of the audience. 

Like all domains, if the opponent is strong enough, [Sinner’s Finale] will fail, and [technique user, im not giving away who] will get punished in their stead, triggering [The Curtain Call]. The risk of [Sinner’s Finale] however boosts him to where it is very unlikely that it’ll happen, as most strong opponents will get the idea of what conditions he needs to trigger and thus prevent him from performing a perfect performance.

He cannot use Domain Expansion otherwise however.)

[shellbuddies]

So uh I might’ve made a mh oc his name is Art (short for Artemis) and he got booted from marble hornets film for bad music taste

[egophiliac]

GET LOVED, IDIOT

GET LOVED SO HARD YOUR KIDS HOLD HANDS AND POWER-OF-LOVE YOU BACK TO LIFE

sorry guys, this is just my brain now. this is going to be the only thing I think about for the next week at least.

oh and also this

FIVE YEARS IN AND IT'S FINALLY CANON 🎉🎉🎉

WE DID IT

[phibsies]

rewatching ninjago with my brother and i kinda miss pink zane

also quick bonus glacier, had to make this or else it’d be stuck in my head forever

[teratomatica]

you always land on all fours

[soodoonimin]

My FAVORITE Poolverine trope is Wade and Logan mutual pining and the ONLY reason Logan doesn’t believe Wade is serious is because of how much he flirts with him and like literally EVERYONE else 😂😂

Like Logan isn’t shy about his feelings at all but he’s also been hurt too many times before and even though he has a healing factor that doesn’t mean a broken heart doesn’t still hurt and the last person he wants to be hurt by is Wade fucking Wilson. So he thinks the only reason Wade flirts with him is because that’s just how he is and Wade is like “IM LITERALLY FLIRTING SO HARD WHEN WITH YOU, IS THAT METAL SKULL OF YOURS SO THICK THAT YOU CAN’T TELL WHEN SOMEONE WANTS YOU?!”

[wolfythewitch]

What did you think of the Ithaca saga? Also what’s your favourite song in it

I really liked it actually! Reminded me a lot of the first few sagas, which are my favorites. I think Hold Them Down is my favorite vocally (and gives me animatic ideas lol) but wyfilwma is just really nice. I haven't watched the stream yet though so I haven't seen the art and stuff

[poorlittleyaoyao]

Wen Ning's life ALSO pretty bad to be fair

HE VERY MUCH DOES. I'm sorry, Wen Ning! His whole family is wiped out AND he's a fierce corpse AND he murdered his bestie's brother-in-law by accident (which got everyone in trouble) AND got experimented on by Xue Yang for awhile there! He's a Jiang Cheng-Song Lan combo! PRETTY BAD TIMES!

Though... okay, controversial critique maybe, but a frustration I have personally with all versions of canon is that it doesn't fully confront how awful Wen Ning's whole deal is. When we meet Wen Ning again post-timeskip, we get a moment of "oh no! who put those nails there!" and then hop straight into wacky Drunkji hijinks. He doesn't grieve or wish to avenge his sister's death, which he would have witnessed firsthand. He doesn't ask about his people's fate (though he somehow knows they all died?), and he doesn't appear to process their demise at ALL in drama canon. In novel canon, if he does process it, it's not till well after he regains lucidity; when he and Wei Wuxian first converse in volume 2, he expresses sadness/horror at how Wei Wuxian died, but nothing for himself or his own people.

And yeah, it's Wei Wuxian's story, but... well, compare this to Song Lan regaining lucidity during Yi City, or Jiang Cheng's entire existence after the fall of Lotus Pier. They both grieve! They both demonstrate profound sorrow and guilt and rage! Meanwhile, Wen Ning is content to trail along after Wei-gongzi, never undertaking any actions or demonstrating any emotions that might be inconvenience or reflect poorly on Wei Wuxian. CQL more often than not accompanies Wen Ning's appearances with the Silly Goofy Times incidental music unless it's a fight scene. It's unfair to him! And it's why I personally often forget about what he's gone through, I think.

[nyaa]

Harada Takehito (Disgaea series), April 1996

[starflungwaddledee]

sadly wasn't up to drawing anything today even though it was my beloved blueberry's birthday, sorry 😔 but instead i baked cookies!!

happy birthday meta knight!

[verishii]

I love how everyone has these sick ass powers and then there's Etho and Joel who can just. jump really high.

[bluebeerg]

happy tuesday. who's this objectum win asshole

oh. right.