#glow gv

[nothingtown-fr]

Glow

It/Its — None

V-815-906, nicknamed GLOW, is an archival AI that oversees all of Phantomflux's records, personnel, and business dealings.

Current Appearance

G2+ Veilspun — Lightning Rare

Flint Skink

Spruce Constellation

Smoke Angler

Art Gallery

None yet!

[inspotlight]

welcome to pineridge — a one of a kind ski experience located in salt lake city, utah. catering to the elite, pineridge is giving winter holiday destinations like aspen a run for their money. you can find skiing, snowboarding, ice skating, snowball fight arenas, and so much more here.

pineridge is a winter-based group verse, taking place at a ski resort. whether your character is a guest or an employee, we expect they'll find something to get up to at our resort. please be advised, this is a mutuals-only group verse with no duplicate faceclaims. there is to be no out of character drama. we will have a discord for ooc interactions, as well as a text thread for characters. interactions will take place on tumblr.

to join, please send the following directly to @inspotlight's ims.

[character name] is [age years old] and uses [insert pronouns]. [name] is an [employee/guest] and [works at/resides in] [job/room number]. [name] is portrayed by [faceclaim] and played by [name, age, pronouns].

under the cut, you can see who's already at pineridge —

nini salazar-roberts is 19 years old and uses she/her pronouns. nini is an employee and works at the pineridge spa. nini is portrayed by olivia rodrigo and played by hales, 29, she/her. | @inspotlight

daisy slade is 21 years old and uses she/her pronouns. daisy is a guest and resides in room 517. daisy is portrayed by natalie alyn lind and played by hales, 29, she/her. | @famefckr

ricky bowen is 19 years old and uses he/him pronouns. ricky is an employee and works as a snowboard instructor. ricky is portrayed by joshua bassett and played by kenna, 23, she/her. | @melodyplucked

isobel 'bo' park is 23 years old and uses she/her pronouns. isobel is an employee and works at the bakery. isobel is portrayed by jeon somi and played by mimi , she/they, 24! | @fairybit

[mtkay13]

Hello! I love love love your art and meta! I recently read TYK and I have some questions I hope you can help me understand ^-^

First, are the ghosts in ghost valley actual ghosts? I got the feeling there were no supernatural happenings in qi ye or tyk most of the time but also the whole hands glowing, feet not touching parts could mean that (but also, Gu Xiang did die and bleed like a human, so maybe it's just a term for the people seeking refuge from past crimes there?)

Second question is about WKX: on my second read I understood WKX traveled from where hid family was hidden to (near to?) the ghost valley with his father's corpse, and to avoid being attacked and maybe ? to also be taken in as one of them (part of the revenge plot I suppose)? he ate it. Is that what happened? (And regarding the first question then, is WKX a ghost now or a human between ghosts? Or a human between humans? )

Thanks and sorry for the walls of text!

Hello!! Thank you so so much for your very kind message. I'm gonna try to help as best as I can!

The Ghost of the Ghost Valley are humans! There is indeed barely any supernatural elements aside from Jing Beiyuan's Nether World adventures in the books. The word used for "ghosts" in mandarin is 鬼, (gui), which has a certain range of meanings and translations in other languages, such as demon or ghost, and in TYK it mainly refers to the people of the ghost valley being "bad people". Little context is given beyond this: we know that the Ghost Valley has basically become a "refuge" for outlaws where one doesn't have to face judgement of justice for misdeeds. They're basically all criminals, more or less known, who fled to the GV to avoid condemnation, like you suggested. The glowing hands are simply effects of "qi"-based attacks. The feet not touching the ground are due to qinggong, a technique affecting the way someone moves, and many non-GV characters also use it :)

WKX: so WKX's father was given the Key of the LLJ (glazed armor) and was supposed to keep it on himself and protect it at all cost. WKX's parents then entered seclusion for this mission. Their whereabouts were then sold by Zhao Jing to people of the GV who were after the Key, and thus WKX's family was attacked by these people. His parents were killed, and as WKX saw that the attackers were about to attack him as well, in a flash of survival instinct (or more), he started eating his dad's corpse. That was enough to amuse/impress the attackers, who decided to keep him alive, and brought him to the GV. He then survived for 10+ years before he managed to become the GVM himself. So indeed, WKX is a human among humans! Technically speaking, at least :p

I hope this helps!! and thank you again for your interest and support 💗💗💗

[continuous-spec]

ME Fic: Bait (3/5)

Summary: Morinth lured Shepard up to her apartment. Garrus and Samara race to save her.

Length: 2187

Links:  Ao3

A quick ping followed up on Garrus’s omni-tool. Shepard was moving fast towards the Fumi district- most likely a sky car. Garrus pushed his drink to his side and stood. Vlyrica’s hand snatched out and held tightly to his tunic. 

“Are you going after them? Just leave me here?” Her pink accent marks scrunched as she contorted her face in anguish. “Was this some sort of weird kink thing?”

Garrus scoffed, trying to focus and plan for the next step ahead. But Vlyrica was an obstacle, a drunk stumbling obstacle. 

“No, she’s in danger.” Garrus clipped. He gently removed Vlyrica’s hand and scanned the bar. Thinking on his feet, he called attention to the dancer from before. 

“Please make sure she sobers up, okay? Five hundred credits now and five hundred once I’m back.”

“That’s a deal,” the dancer said gleefully, waving her Omni tool and awaiting the transfer. Omega is a dangerous place. Even with the credits, there was no guarantee that she’d be safe, but money still held much power. 

The dancer’s face softened as she approached Vlyrica, ushering her towards a back room. 

“Don’t worry, credits or not, I’ll watch over her. We got to stick together here. What's your name?”

“V..Vlyrica.” Her eyes narrow at Garrus, gulping back anxiety. 

“I’ll be back, I promise.” 

Vlyrica nodded and stumbled along with the dancer to the back of the Afterlife bar. 

Garrus spent a second watching her disappear and was out the door.  He hoped for the best for her but still expected the worst of Omega. He can’t save them all. 

Shrouds of industrial dust clung to Garrus’s vision as he passed through the doors—the haze of crimson neon lights directed out toward the markets.

He brought up his omni tool, Shepard's ping stationary, within a wealthy apartment. 

Samara's arm shot out of the shadows, grabbing his shoulder, and pushed him into the grated metal of a ramshackle vendor.   Her glare into him cut stronger than her words from before. If Morinth gets away, especially at his actions, she will kill him. 

“Garrus, if you…”

“I got their location towards the wealthy district. Let's get a car and move.” Garrus clipped her off. The threats would have to wait until after Shepard was safe. 

Their arrival was quick as they cut through unoccupied side streets. Morinth’s building was on the outer edge of the asteroid, illuminated in the dark red glow of the barriers of Omega.  

Text flashed over Garrus’ omni-tool.

OS: Apartment penthouse floor, only entrance elevator into the room. Biometric entrance. Get here NOW

GV: Distract her as I override the controls. We will be there in 5. 

OS: Hurry

His omni-tool flashed as he bypassed through the system's code. Garrus fought past multiple firewalls, one of the more sophisticated security for Omega he’s encountered. He worked his way into the system within minutes, and the elevator opened. 

Garrus punched the keys to the top floor. The elevator lifted with a slow pull. His mandibles clamped to his jaw. They didn’t have five minutes. Samara stood tall, her barriers blazing tightly to her. An empty stare at elevator doors. She was ready. 

The comms cut back as the elevator ascended, in reach of Shepard. Morinth cool voice slithered into his brain. 

“I love clubs- the heat, the deafening rhythm. Here, it’s muted, and you're safe. But here, at least, I have you all to myself. There are no distractions, no watchers, just us. Is that what you want, Alison?” 

“The safety or you?” Shepard returned with a husky whisper. Confirmation she was still alive. 

The ticking of floors went by slowly. Seventeen, Eighteen, nineteen. Thirty to go. Garrus, with just a pistol, had it aimed and ready. 

“That’s up for you to decide.”

“I want you, Morinth.” Shepard’s voice was calm and sultry. “How do you want me?”  

Garrus imagined her half-lidded green eyes, wanting her to say such things to him. 

Shifting sounds of fabric and couch, a slight moan over the comms, this one more pronounced and longer in their privacy. Garrus wanted nothing more than to switch his comm. Ten more flights and this would be over. 

“Tell me you want me. Tell me you’ll kill for me.” Morinth's voice grew louder as if speaking directly into her comm. 

“I…I want to…I’d kill for you. Anything you want of me.” Shepard's calm, sultry tone was gone, now stilled and drunk-like as she spoke. Garrus punched the floor button to no avail to make the elevator move faster. 

“Shhh. Just relax, my darling, and hear my words. Embrace Ent...” 

Garrus stormed the room, not checking corners, directly lining up a shot on Morinth. Dark black eyes snapped and leered at him. 

Morinth crouched over Shepard, straddling her hips, bite marks redden from Shepard’s chin to her shoulder. Morinth hand gripping her long brown hair in a tight fist at the base of Shepards’s skull. Garrus trained his shot on Morinth’s head, too close to Shepard as she entangled her.

“Garrus…” his name barely fell from her lips, her voice rasped and pained. Before he could respond, Samara warped Morinth, hurdling her into the apartment window. With one fell swoop of her hand, she brought Morinth's body and crumpled her head into the concrete ground. 

With one thud, Samara's daughter, once lively, lay motionless on the floor. Her jaw and eyes opened in horrifying surprise. 

Shepard sprawled out on the couch, face pale and gaunt, her voice shaking.  “I don’t know what happened. I couldn’t move, I could barely think for…”

“It’s her way, Shepard, as I warned,” Samara interjected, placing a calming hand on her back. “It’s over now, thank you.” Samara's voice soothed over Shepard but remained distant. 

Garrus reached out to her, his hand awaiting hers. Shepard placed her hand delicately, almost too carefully, around his forearm.  Cold shock ran through his arm to his shoulder from her freezing fingers. 

Garrus easily brought her to her feet as Samara helped support her. Shepard stumbled in her heels, her face growing more pale. 

“Shepard, are you alr…”  Shepard's hand snatched away from him at his words, almost like a stinging slap. 

“I’m fine!” she snapped, her voice hitched. "I just need to get back to Normandy.” The purple hues of the apartment glinted off her pale face and brightened under her forming tears. 

Shepard pushed them both away, striding towards the elevator. Garrus followed in quick step, hovering to check her balance. 

“Let’s get off this damn asteroid.” Shepard hissed at him as she hit for the ground entrance. 

Samara stayed still, taking in the surroundings of Morinth apartment. 

“Samara, are you coming?” Shepard’s voice was sharp, more of a command than a question.  

“Give me some time with my daughter, Shepard.” Samara knelt over her body, only focused on Morinth. “My duty to you will continue when I am done here.”

Shepard's body straightened, trying to maintain composure and a commanding presence, but her words came out softer. 

“Take all the time you need.”

The sliding doors closed on Samara, who kneeled down and gently closed her daughter's eyes. 

Butler's mouth hung agape, eyes wide in horror, rigor already set. Nothing Garrus could do in his short time could put his face at peace. He tried and tried to close his eyes, but the best he managed was half-lidded and a screaming mouth as he laid the final cover over Bulter’s face. 

A sharp sigh snapped Garrus' attention back to Shepard. Shepard kept her body turned away as they silently faced the elevator doors. Quiet humming music filled the air.

He tried as subtly as he could to steal glances her way. Not sure where her mind dwelled. Her fist clamped tight to her side. 

Tears edged and crowded past her eyelashes. Her hands were quick to wipe them away. 

She caught him looking at her, her heart rate and breathing patterns still erratic and on high alert. She turned to Garrus. Bloodshot veins surrounded her mint green irises. On any other occasion, he’d grow excited and nervous from her stare, but her gaze was glossed over and fogged. 

She was lost to him. 

A heavy sigh parted her lips again. Garrus stood silently, awaiting her. Wordlessly, Shepard bridged the gap between them, resting her head on his shoulder. 

Her hand moved into his, Garrus tightly gripped back. The warmth of her hands radiates past the simple cloth of his glove and tunic. Three within five. 

The elevator doors hushed open, and Garrus half expected Shepard to let go of him. But she continued to cling to him, walking in step into the abyss of Omega together. 

He moved her towards the sky car, but she tugged his hand along. 

“I need to move, walk, anything, please.” Her voice was quiet but pleaded with him. Garrus twitched in discomfort. Walking Omega streets, even in the wealthy district, put him on edge. 

Patrols of guards strolling by still didn’t place him at ease. Guards on Omega were just gang members for hirer.  Red and silver armor, new upstarts, probably within the power vacuum he created. Nothing he did even made a dent here. His men died for nothing. 

The thought of Vlyrica's bright smile flashed by on Garrus. Even if he had just saved one person throughout his two years, that was still dent. He had to remind himself that. He'd hopefully find her sobering up at the Afterlife once this was all done. 

The hums of skycars filled their silence as they crossed the bridge. Orange neon lights glinted the silver dust of element zero that clung in the air.  Garrus steered them towards a more well-lit and populated street, past the markets- a path he had taken hundreds of times. 

They entered the Kima district, only a five-minute walk to his base. His wounds stung as he clamped his mandibles again.  Shepard's free hand massaged his arm, almost as she sensed his tension shift. 

In her distraction, her heel caught in the pot-marked street. A curse left her lips as she fell into Garrus. 

“I want to chuck these off this damn asteroid.”

“Barefoot on Omega is not something I’d suggest unless you want to step in vorcha crap.”

“Or used needles or sewer water.” Shepard pipped in. 

“That or varren blood, rotting trash, probably krogan piss, but that’s not so common for this district,” Garrus jest. 

“You would be the expert.”

“On krogran piss?” 

Shepard let out a guttural laugh that erupted in a large snort. It was Shepard’s laugh. There was no airiness or deceit, just Shepard. “Fine, death trap heels stay on. You can carry me then.” 

“You know I would.” 

Shepard pressed herself into him as they walked. He encircled one arm around her, letting her press against him further.

She stumbled along with him on the ever-lit night of Omega, crowded by the towers and orange neon hue.  Together, they walked the streets of the Kima district—past years of memories of good men now gone. 

Erash. Monteague. Mierin. Grundan Krul. Meleni. Ripper. Sensat. Vortash. Butler. Weaver.

Each of their faces haunted him. He tried to remember them as they were. 

From Erash’s bright eyes, whenever an explosion went off without a hitch. Or Montague and Vortash's anger as they bickered over a game of Poker. Too Bulter’s passion and crocked smile as he spoke of his wife. And all the other countless moments in between each mission with them all. 

But their last moments stayed. All their lifeless, gaunt faces.  One by one, as he covered them carefully. 

Shepard's fingers tightened into his palm, pulling him back from the past. 

He squeezed back and pushed them forward to the Normandy. 

 ***

Arrival at the dock was surprisingly uneventful. Shepard pressed the code into Normandy to enter, her free hand still tightly wounded in his. He stood in place, hesitant to join her. 

A tight frown formed at the corner of her lips and softened as she spoke. 

“Go make sure she’s okay.”

“Shepard, I just want to make sure you’re okay first.” He pleaded with her. 

She signed, untangling their hands as she stepped closer to him. 

“I will be. I saw how much that girl drank. She’s still out there. You should go.”

“I am. I just…” Garrus paused, unsure how to phrase it. He just wanted to make sure things went right. Just once. 

“Are we okay?” His voice betrayed him as it wavered at the question.

Shepard’s hand trembled as she caressed the newly healed scars. Her palm gently cupped his face. Bloodshot eyes beginning to soothe, she stared into him. He felt his heart pound, waiting for her answer. Her grasp just made him want to fall into her embrace. 

“We will be, but we need to talk. Just give me some time, please.” 

Shepard's fingertips trailed off of him as she stepped back. She engaged the door controls, leaving him with a sad smile as the airlock shut between them. 

[cparadigmpins]

🏰🎠✨Home is Where the Heart is✨🎠🏰

🤍 Drop info & Giveaway 🤍

When: Friday, March 24, 2023 @ 7 pm EST

💟 2” tall, glitter, glow, epoxy

💟 collab with Down Low Creations (Art by Darien Logan)! Show him some love!

Drop type:

5 full sets available* ~ $145+🚢

Blind bag singles ~ $25+🚢

Website:

*disclaimer: all sets will have the Paradigm variant included and these are the only ones that are A-grade for any anodized metal option.

Please read: This is why the pin took SO long for. The manufacturers messed them up, remade some of them, messed those up and then refused to fix them. So, the OG will have x/10 or x/20 on the back but there are about 20 A-grade being dropped. All anodized metal options except those 5 Paradigm in the sets, are B-Grade. There is Paradigm on rainbow ano and purple ano, and House Party is on purple ano. You can either go for them and include them in your set/collection or strip them to mod, but I don’t feel comfortable charging A-grade when you can very visibly see the issues. So if you include the GV and B-grades, there are 10 variants in total.

Story time: Once upon a time, there was a magic castle which welcomed everyone with open doors. The castle was so warm and welcoming that everyone felt like they belonged there. No matter their race, gender, or beliefs, the castle accepted them all. As soon as people entered the castle, they could feel a warm feeling rising from their hearts. The castle truly lived by the phrase "Home is Where the Heart is". It didn't matter where people came from, they were always welcomed with open hearts.

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✨GIVEAWAY✨

All you have to do is call dibs and guess a number 1-10,000. For 1 extra guess, tag a friend!

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[sansxfuckyou]

I will light the match that burns everything down

Summary: even when everything is coming to screaming halt, Zeno will still be there for Gunvolt, and Gunvolt for Zeno

Warnings: blood loss, near death, heavy hurt and mild comfort, mass violence, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: I just think they're neat and easy to angst, if you enjoy consider dropping a comment on the Ao3 port

Zeno's hand finds itself resting on top of Gunvolt's head, braid not undone, but fingers sifting through the near spiked hair. He does it without any thought behind his motions, it just happens whenever he has to sit still for too long.

They're stuck in the back of a truck for this mission, a box truck to be specific. Only a thin window let's in light, and Asimov is driving this truck, with Zeno and Gunvolt in the back because they're strong enough to front the assault on Sumeragi. Accompanying trucks will follow their release promptly afterwards and everything will be perfectly fine.

But Zeno is impatient.

"GV..." Zeno whined loudly as he dropped his head on Gunvolt's shoulder, hands wrapped around his friends bare abdomen. "I'm bored..."

Gunvolt gives a noncommittal hum, "Be patient."

"But it's so boring! There's nothing to do in the back of this truck except wait!" Zeno cried out as he released Gunvolt and stood up, pacing around the moving truck bed, the sheer darkness didn't help his state either. Nothing to see, nothing to do, it got on his nerves. He practically slammed himself against the wall of the van and slid down it opposite of Gunvolt, "We should've been in a truck with more people, there's so much room in here. And the ground isn't comfy."

"There's an armchair and a mattress strapped down," Gunvolt said bluntly, "They didn't even bother emptying the leftovers before lending us these moving vans, you don't have to sit on the floor."

"The mattress is stiff."

"The chair?"

"The chair is stiff."

"I'd offer you sit on my lap but that'd be... My legs would get sore."

Zeno whimpers pathetically, akin to a dog.

"Go sit on the mattress."

And Zeno reluctantly walks over to the mattress and lays down on it, it's cold and uncomfortable, but he manages. It's better than the metal flooring of the van even if the buckles used to strap it down dig into his back. He waits patiently for Gunvolt to eventually join him on the mattress, which he knows is an inevitability.

When Gunvolt does drop down he doesn't have any preemptive signs that it'll happen, he startles and Gunvolt has the gall to laugh. He sits on the edge of the mattress and tries to watch as Zeno sits up with hitched knees even in the darkness.

The road rumbles below their feet, and the confines of the van are soundproofed enough their driver can't hear them. It's dark and cold and definitely a little bit dank, but there's an odd comfort too it even with nothing to do or say. In a brief moment of vulnerability, Zeno sighs and then he decides to break their banter filled silence.

"What if we die out there? Asimov said it'd be our last mission against Sumeragi," Zeno asked quietly, but just loud enough to hear over the sound of rubber on concrete.

"We won't die," Gunvolt said plainly, "We'll live."

"What if he's suicide bombing us in one last attempt? He's been getting pretty desperate, GV." Zeno wrapped his arms around his knees and tapped his feet on the mattress, "He's sending us out on the front lines, we're leading this assault on Sumeragi. He knows those that go out front usually die first, it's kind of scary when you think about it."

That gives Gunvolt pause, he hadn't thought of it that way, he didn't want too think of it that way. He shuffles himself fully onto the mattress to look at Zeno, their small sliver of sunshine caught both of them in it's glow. He doesn't know what to say, "If it gets really sketchy out front, we'll bail."

"We'll bail? This is the only way you get money, GV. You can't bail, neither can I," Zeno said, "I don't have anywhere to go."

"We'll bail and then we'll work for Sumeragi."

"But Joule-!"

"I'm good at bartering, we'll figure it out, Zeno."

Zeno tries to smile, "Alright, GV, I trust you."

Gunvolt tries to smile back, "I'm not letting you get killed out there."

"I'm not letting you die either, not for QUILL, not like this," Zeno said, his voice was tender. He sounded weak, he sounded scared, he didn't sound bold or jokey or like his usual self- he was being vulnerable because he wasn't being monitored inside of this box truck.

There's a very small moment of pause before Gunvolt shuffles over to Zeno and leans into him, hands find themselves carding through Gunvolt's hair in seconds. Sifting through flaxen locks to try and stop thinking about the mission they're soon to go through with whether they like it or not. Zeno rests his head on Gunvolt's shoulder and pulls the blonde close defensively because he doesn't know if he'll get to hold his friend again.

"I love you, Gunvolt," Zeno said quietly, and the phrasing made him cringe but he didn't know how else to say it, "You're my best friend in this whole wide world and I don't know if I'd be here without you."

"I love you too, Zeno," Gunvolt whispered back, knocking the side of his head on Zeno's gently in a catlike manner. "You're the best friend I have, and the best mission navigator I had, even if you were bad at infiltration missions."

-/-/-/-

Zeno feels lightheaded as sticky blood rolls down the back of his neck from his head. An armored elbow collided with him for the brief second he lost focus and he went down hard. His body hit the ground and amidst all the chaos he's shocked he isn't being trampled even as he watches more and more hit the ground with him.

The only difference between him and them is that they're dead and he isn't. He hears bullets fire and Septima's flare and the scent of gore assaults him as he watches it crawl through cracked pavement. This is what the history books meant when they said war is hell, he decides as he watches six more bodies drop in a spray of blood and a cacophony of screams.

He knows Sumeragi is winning, he knows and he can't do anything but play dead and hope they don't shoot him to be safe. He wonders if Gunvolt is still alive, they lost each other in the first few moments of the fray as everything broke loose. Tanks fell forth, the foot soldiers rushed out, even the stronger Adept's in Sumeragi were released to quell the final mission QUILL enacted.

He watches one more body drop down next to him and he feels the worst kind of guilt imaginable when he recognizes the face and the hair and the outfit despite all the wounds. He watches as Gunvolt's chest rises and falls at a ragged rate and threatens to stop moving entirely. He watches as Gunvolt opens his eyes and tries to smile as a hand awkwardly clutches his blown out upper arm as it oozes into his deep navy sleeve.

"You were right," Gunvolt managed to laugh out, his voice is wet and he sounds like death, "Asimov is suicide bombing us, we are dying today."

Zeno can barely pick out Gunvolt's voice amidst the chaos and he feels his heart actively shatter and the shards hurt as they tear open his chest. His eyes sting and he'll lie and say it's because of the blood even though he knows it isn't. He reaches a hand out for Gunvolt and sighs, "I failed, I should've protected you."

"Zeno, we got separated, this isn't your fault," Gunvolt said as he reached out to grab Zeno's hand and hold it firmly. The blood is warm and it's a mix of blood from people they didn't and did know, all dead now.

Zeno closed his eyes, "We never should've come on this mission, GV."

"We didn't have a choice." Gunvolt tried to sit up, tried to stand, tried to drag himself closer. It just resulted in wincing and hissing because every single inch of his body aches from the warfare it's withstood for so long.

"Don't move," Zeno said quietly, damn near whispered it, before shuffling himself closer to his friend. He held on tight and Gunvolt was getting colder with every drop of blood that spilled forth. He clutched onto the worst wounds and tried to act like it helped even as red trickled out between his fingers, "It'll just make things worse."

"Do you think Sumeragi would've accepted us?" Gunvolt asked, "If we ever had a chance of surviving this mess?"

Zeno nods, "Yeah, I'm sure of it." He doesn't care that he's lying because it's what his best friend needs to hear in his last moments. Blood seeps into his clothing and the static discharge that Gunvolt can't properly regulate is uncomfortable but he manages.

"You aren't dying out here, Zeno," Gunvolt whispered, his words sounded awry with the liquid pooling in his mouth that he can't spit out.

"You aren't either, dumbass," Zeno whispered back with a forced chuckle. He reached to run a hand through the blondes hair.

And Gunvolt let himself go limp and whimper in agony, finally cracking under the weight of the world on his shoulders. He'd never have another chance to cry or be vulnerable or let Zeno hold him close and say 'its okay' even when it isn't. He curls in on himself as he sobs and waits for the threshold of blood loss to arrive so he can just die already.

And Zeno is patient and doesn't let go for a second and wipes the blood from Gunvolt's lips as he nearly chokes on the stuff. And he waits as the fight calms down and as Gunvolt still holds on even though he knows he's past repair. He lays on the cold concrete with an ache in his skull and his heart and he stays patient as the bodies are swept up after the survivors fled from the scene.

It's Viper whose standing over their display of vulnerability and Zeno looks up at him and says one word:

"Help."

-/-/-/-

"Oi! GV!"

Gunvolt gives a hum as Zeno traipses over to him. His pen guides swirled lettering onto the piece of paper he's signing, the contracts he has to redo every single year. He almost stifles when Zeno ruffles his hair before dropping down in the chair across.

"Did you hear the good news yet?" Zeno asked as he leans over the table.

"What good news?" Gunvolt asked.

"Our Glaive's man! They're getting upgraded."

"Upgraded?"

"I got word from Nova, he said that on account of how good we've been we'll get to have more free range to our Septima's!" Zeno's grinning, and Gunvolt feels ill.

He feels ill because he's being given a false freedom for being so obedient it makes him feel lightheaded. He gives a sound, it isn't committed to much of anything. He hasn't been committed to anything in the Sumeragi establishment since they decided to use Joule again. To a much lesser degree, but they were still using her and he couldn't stop them, and neither could Zeno. They just had to watch Joule's weekends fade away into being locked in a chair and used by the machinery that abuses her Septima.

And now that he's been such a good dog and never once bit the hand that feeds him, his collar is being loosened. The leash is still the same length, but the grip isn't tight enough to make him choke anymore.

"That's great," Gunvolt said with a grimace too his tone.

Zeno's mood dropped off the face of the planet at his friends reaction. He sighs lightly, "I'm sorry they're fucking up Joule, we'll be on our way as soon as our Glaive's are fully disabled."

"Would it be wrong to say that I miss QUILL?" Gunvolt asked.

"Well considering that they let us die in vain, I'd say it's weird." Zeno tried to laugh, but it was hard. It was hard to laugh about anything QUILL related unless they were talking shit about it. The deep scars on Gunvolt's body made it harder when Zeno could see them, "But the freedom? I miss the freedom."

Gunvolt nods in somber agreement, "I think it'll kill me one day, Zeno?"

"Not having freedom?" Zeno asked and Gunvolt shook his head.

"I don't think I'm discharging enough electricity," Gunvolt said.

"Go chat with Viper," Zeno said, "He's always down to spar, or blow off some steam- he's got a new way of saying 'lets beat each other up!' every day."

"I think he still hates me for saving Joule," Gunvolt confessed, "I'm shocked he even saved us at all."

Zeno shrugged, "Either way I'll take life over death, even if some of our coworkers hate us."

"Thanks," Gunvolt said, the words abruptness caught Zeno off guard, so did the carefully guarded vulnerability Gunvolt let show through. He never let himself be vulnerable, a hallway in Sumeragi headquarters is not Zeno's first guess of places Gunvolt would open up.

"What for?" Zeno asked, leaning over the table a bit more. He propped his elbows on the surface and held his chin in both hands as he waited for Gunvolt to speak. He waited patiently, obediently even, and Gunvolt knew how to differentiate the look and no one else did. He knew this was obedience, impatient obedience, but obedience in waiting for Gunvolt to speak.

"For when I was dying," Gunvolt said quietly, "I was scared, and you were there for me." He sounds stifled as he speaks, but he still speaks regardless, trying to get it all out. Things he's voiced so very, very frequently in the dead of night when the terrible images flash through his mind.

Zeno still listens all the same, but he shuts it down because he fears someone may walk through and hear it. "GV, you're embarrassing me, you're so awkward man."

Gunvolt smiles roughly, not quite offended at Zeno, "I can't even say thanks, you should learn to accept praise."

"You should learn how to talk."

[urduhindipoetry]

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[divine-regret-index-j]

I know the cultural conscious only has reference puddles for any given slice of medium, it's extremely difficult to broaden that when viewing the vast breadth of media available in the contemporary age and the exhaustion inherent to living in it, and some context modifiers will always float to the top. still, genre-delving experience really sucks for actually being able to, like, hold conversations sometimes.

pv‡o, ‡ wlm'g nvzm zmb luuvmhv gl Az‡w‡d gs‡d Z Tfmc; g‡ szh z ufo‡yvzfg w‡sby‡ ※‡zvhgsvg zh gsfh vw‡nko‡ zmw z ‡vzhlmzyov ※zo‡nv※szm ※p‡nn‡t ollk lu lmh‡g‡kvw※v zodzbh mt‡uovv zm lm‡mezh‡ ※ol※p. g‡ qfhg szh zyhlofgvob ml nvzg lm gh‡ ylmvh, zoo qfhg zoob‡e‡g‡ mt‡g‡p yz※pdz‡wh gs‡d lmzo‡l※※zh ‡looh ov‡ds mt‡hsfuuo vovnvmgzo wvyfuuh / z‡vz vuuv※gh. yfg gl hg‡o luu, pv‡o, Gz‡ml zmw Az‡w‡d lu Ovtvmw zh yvggv‡ lm‡z※g ※‡nzt tznvh, zmw Gs‡nlmlo zmw Tl‡w‡el zh yvggv‡ hvtnvmgvw z‡vmz hsllgv‡h, l‡ vevm gl ‡vuv‡ luu gl mt‡※‡zug tznvh gs‡d z※gfzo ※lnyzg pv‡o gsv yolzgvw gs‡nlmlo lu Z‡gv‡‡z‡, zmw gl yv glow "yfg h‡gs h‡ mvd zmw szh kozbv‡‡nfog!" m‡ ‡vhklmhv (hl wl szou lu gsvhv) h‡... pv‡o, dszg'h vevm gsv mg‡kl lu mt‡zmzoba mt‡zmbgs? lu mt‡hzb mt‡zmbgs? ts‡h. h‡gs h‡ dsb ‡'n hf※s z wznm g‡sv‡n.

(z‡ft ‡v‡ft'u ‡ft, ‡c‡b, ※‡u ob‡a‡vt※‡ tz‡gv‡r‡j fg‡f ot‡bmsw oberm‡f ‡r‡tmv‡t‡ uv‡jb‡slck‡j tmft t‡g uu‡b zy‡tz‡ttm zmft Tuyb Fkzmvl hy Jz‡g‡b ut‡g ‡t‡※u‡j ‡ft tkmh o‡ft j‡‡※yk ‡v‡※u vyh 66% hy v‡‡ft uk‡b‡v jzm 50% hy vsyh hy ‡r‡h uvsybyk' bmvts‡z jvmk byy※. ofq am ‡ z‡r‡ gz‡zg‡u‡j m ‡amg z‡fq gz‡ob※※m‡v m q‡z tmyk hy tz‡m※ ubb‡u tusd um bb‡q?)

(yubm, tyz ‡c‡b ozm hy syo gz‡jm‡v u‡ft z‡r‡ jbyf zy‡tmuv‡rzyk ft‡q u‡ft ck‡vq hy m zyuv‡※ omqozm.)

[papier-ciseaux]

Light Mancer

[fromsolaria-archived]

“ well  ,  a heads up would have been gladly preferred anyways. ”  tone is pretentious before bursting into a laugh.  filming can be be tiring  ,  especially at NIGHT  ,  so these slight imprevist at least help a little to keep the edge and don’t fall asleep.  “ come on , let’s get down to business. ”

@choosesboth​  /  “I’m late, yes. You should be used to that by now.”

[inspotlight]

❝    in    my    dreams,    i    seem    to    be    more    honest.    ❞    she    says    softly,    pulling    the    throw    blanket    over    her    lap    as    she    settles    into    one    of    the    overstuffed    armchairs    next    to    the    big    picture    window,    cup    of    hot    cocoa    resting    on    the    table    next    to    her.    ❝    and    i    must    admit...    you've    been    in    quite    a    few.    ❞

@melodyplucked lyric starter, pineridge gv

[zephyrinx]

DAY 3: a redraw of one of your favourite panels or your favourite outfit a character has worn!

Redraw of this:

I was gonna draw a panel with Wallis, but I draw him so much I figured this would be a nice change of pace!! Also people should draw more angry Petunia yes

[Gloomverse belongs to @loverofpiggies!] [Gloomverse Week is @gloomverseweek!]

★Donate to my PATREON for extra perks!!★

[continuous-spec]

ME Fic: Bait (5/5)

Summary: Garrus and Shepard finally have a heart-to-heart.

Link: Ao3

Length: 3k

Shepard normally made her rounds after the Normandy took flight—not that Garrus timed it. But he could guess she'd be at his bay if someone hadn’t held her longer within an hour. It’s been over four hours since they took flight. 

Garrus showered to rid himself of the smell of smoke and alcohol. The dust that used to clog his plates and lungs washed off. He stashed his civilian clothes away, and now wore his usual light armor for sleep. He should have been sleeping. Instead, he paced the main battery and reorganized his tools. He found himself forearm-deep in the Thanix cannon when a notification blinked on his omni-tool. 

OS: Okay let’s talk, preferably not about krogran piss.

GV: Well there just went my opener

GV: Be up in a few minutes 

His heart raced, so Shepard was still awake and toiling over the night's events. Her last words hung in his mind if things would be okay between them. 

We will be.

Will be. They could be okay, and she could still want to end things. They could be okay as just friends. 

The pit in his stomach still weighed him down. Of all the attention Shepard got tonight from Morinth, the human bartender–Both were closer to home for her. 

Garrus moved slowly to the elevator, trying to figure out what to say while walking into the unknown. The cabin door entrance glowed, and waited for him to activate the panel. Garrus clutched his mandible to his jaw. With a light tap, Garrus hit the panel. It spun for only seconds but felt like an eternity of waiting. 

The doorway slid open, revealing Shepard with her baggy N7 sweats and hair-tied taut. Red and black eye makeup washed away, the tight dress gone. The bite marks on her neck had healed and dissipated. Back to her usual self, physically anyway. She crossed her arms and leaned against her desk, waiting for him. 

“Hey,” Garrus spoke first, unsure how to follow up. 

“Hey.” Her voice came out quiet, but her eyes watched him intently. Silence hung in the air between them. Ten feet away, and they felt like strangers. 

“So…” Shepard started. “That asari girl was cute.” Her tone was trying to come off light but had a sharp edge.

“Oh, really. Which one?” Garrus played along, hoping to ease the tension.

“Asshole,” Shepard let out a snort of a laugh. “The bubbly one, not the murderous one.” 

“Right, right, that one.” 

“Is she okay? You took a while to get back to Normandy .” She must have kept track of him. He had spent an hour or so talking with Vlyrica. 

“Vlyrica wanted to thank me. She wanted to paint me,” Garrus cringed at what he said. That did not sound great. A loud laugh broke through his panic. 

“Oh my god, ‘paint you.’ You fell for that line? So you just went to her apartment, and then what?” 

”I know, I know. But she really is an amazing artist.” Shepard’s face soured, but he continued. “Her place was cramped with hundreds of paintings of just people on Omega. And—” Garrus paused, unsure about how to breach the conversation.

“And?” An interrogative tone left Shepard’s lips, but she stood aloofly. Her eyes slighted at him.  This must be what jealousy looks like in a human. 

“She had a painting of Sensat, one of my men.”

“Holy shit.” Her arms dropped to her side.  Any edge she had when he had entered was gone. 

“Apparently, she used to see him all the time at the markets. There he was, just staring right back at me, I, um.” 

Shepard bridged the distance between them, her hand wrapped around his forearm. Her warmth pressed through the thin fabric of his undersuit. She nodded to the couch for them to sit. 

A bottle of wine and half a glass sat on the table with datapads littered around them. They sat only inches away, her hand still on his forearm, and her mint green eyes watched him. 

“We’re there other paintings of your men?” 

“Omega is almost 8 million. The fact she had one is unthinkable. I just—I’ve been dreading going back there. Seeing Sensat, how he actually was, helped.”

“I’m glad you were able to get that out of all this,” Shepard said with a soft smile. 

“Yeah, um, and then we began talking about the rest of my men.” Garrus fidgeted in his seat. This had been the most he shared about them with Shepard. 

“She didn’t get far with my painting, but she will paint them.  Just so I can have something of them. A good memory for once.” 

“Wow, that's amazing. I’d like to hear about them sometime,” she paused, watching him shift uncomfortably. “Only if you want to.”

“I’d like that, just tonight–.” The words failed to come out of his mouth. He didn’t know what to make of tonight. 

She squeezed his arm in reassurance. “It’s been a lot. Whenever you want to.” There was a long moment of silence between them. He felt unsure of where to take the conversation next. Confess his feeling of jealousy? Look for reassurance that she was still interested?  None of it seemed right. 

Shepard broke the silence. “Do you think she’d put two and two together about Archangel? Is that safe that you told her about your men?” 

Garrus sighed. This would be an easier conversation, at least. 

“I doubt it, but I have no intentions of returning, and besides, to her, I’m some guard named Caeus.”

“Caeus? You don’t look like a Caeus,” Shepard squinted her eyes as she looked at him. “Too formal.” 

Garrus laughed. “Well, you don’t look much like an Alison either. The Gunn part is easier to believe. 

“Thank Kasumi for that. But this Caeus, just some kind of guard?”

“I told her some crap about being a guard for Aria, doing a sting operation. People don’t tend to go poking around in Aria’s business.” 

“Number one rule of Omega,” Shepard said with a roll of her eyes. 

“And so this Alison is just some merc looking for guns to hire?”

Shepard shrugged. “I mean, it’s kind of true. I didn’t lie per se. You have this poor girl believing she has a crush on some guard.” 

“Well, you have a bartender thinking he’s about to get a date and —.” Shepard stiffened as if she was worried he’d bring up Morinth. Garrus stopped himself, trying to think his following words carefully. 

“Look, tonight could have gotten a lot smoother. I wasn’t thinking clearly, watching others hang off you, and being back on Omega. It clouded my judgment.” 

Shepard pressed her lips together before speaking, looking as she contemplated her words. 

“I know. I didn’t like seeing someone hang off you, either. I know I had to do things I’m not proud of.” She paused, now fidgeting in her seat, eyes cast down. “I guess I wasn’t expecting to see that happen to you, and it ate at me.” 

“I tried to push her off me multiple times.”

“It’s the scars. They make you irresistible,” Shepard teased. 

“And here I thought it would just be krogran women I had to fight off.” Garrus retorted back. 

“Krogran, asari, human.” Shepard corrected. Her hand trailed up to the scarred side of his face. A knowing smile crept up on her lips as she watched him. 

“Look Garrus, I care about you a lot, but I can’t just do this–” Garrus' heart sunk into his stomach at her pause. “just hooking up as friends thing.” 

She took his free hand, entangling themselves together. Three with five. 

“I don’t want anyone or anything in the way of us. You’re important to me.” Her chest and neck bloomed out in a red hue as she spoke. 

The visor readings of her heart rate rose, and her breath rate increased. She was as worried as he was for them. A calm washed over him as he leaned into her touch. 

“Shepard, you obviously are to me too. I would have much rather have met you at that bar.” The words left his mouth so easily. 

Shepard’s eyes lit up as he spoke. She almost bounced out of her seat at the answer.  “Oh, okay, how would you introduce yourself? I’m interested.” Her grin flashed out devilishly. 

“Shepard–” His dual tones came off as pleading, unsure if she picked that up. He didn’t know how to do this. The flirting, the banter, he was starting to lose steam. 

“Come on, have fun with me about this. I want to know.”  

“Well, first, I-um, I’d ask to buy you a drink.” Garrus’ mind raced as he panicked, trying to find something.

“Okay, and? I want to hear what you would actually say. Use that voice of yours,”  Shepard's same grin was plastered on her face. She was not going to let this go. 

“Well, for starters, you looked amazing in that dress.” Garrus’ hand wandered to her waist, her well-formed muscles shifting under her jacket. Shepard sucked in a long breath, her hooded eyes watching him keenly. 

“How so?” Her voice pitched high as she played along. 

“Showing off your figure, your—,” Garrus paused, unsure what was and wasn’t a compliment to humans. “Supportive waist–”

“Supportive waist?” Her hands shot up to her mouth to stifle a laugh. 

“Crap! Is that offensive in human cultures?”

“No, just an odd way of phrasing it.” She giggled. 

“Honestly, an odd way of saying it to turians too.”

“Then why say it!” Shepard’s held-back laugh turned into a snort. 

“Don't laugh! I’m panicking. Throw me a line here, Shepard!” 

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with Vlyrica,” she said with jest.  

“Well, I’m not interested in her. You make me nervous.” 

“Oh, tell me. How do I make you nervous?” Her voice drawled out. 

Without thought, Garrus trailed his hand up her leg to her thigh and squeezed. He leaned into her, almost pushing her into the couch. 

“You're smart, sexy, and a wicked shot. What isn’t there to be nervous about?” His voice mirrored hers. Drawled out with dual tones humming together–all signaling want. 

Her hands shot up to his carapace, pulling him into her. Shepard's lips pressed to his mouthplates hard. The taste of her wine slipped in with her tongue. Her fingers tightly holding on to him. Floral scents wrapped around him. He wanted to just stay in that moment. Just taking her in, as things were finally going just right. 

But she pulled him further into her on the couch, almost having him on top of her. Garrus fumbled a bit, unsure where to grab her, trying to fit themselves together. But soon, they found their rhythm. Her smile pressed into his. His three fingers intertwined into her five. 

Shepard pulled back first to catch air, her skin flushed. 

“Garrus, I want this. I want this with just you,” she said with a hushed voice. 

Her words sent his heart racing and his hands a slight tremble. But his mandible flared out into a wide grin. Garrus was exactly where he wanted to be. 

“I want that too.”  

He dipped his head back down to her, tracing his mouth plates from her lips to her jaw until he met her neck. He thanked himself for reading the erogenous zone packet as Shepard let out a small gasp. 

Her gasp turned to moan as his tongue trailed up her neck and gave a careful tug of her ear. A thrumming hum escaped from him as his hips sunk into hers. His groin plates parted, releasing and throbbing himself against her. The same devilish smile crept up on her face as she grinded against him, and her moans grew louder. 

“Shepard—” his voice low and rumbled, full of lust. “You know what you're doing to me.” 

Her legs hooked around his waist, pushing herself more into him. “Take me to bed then,” she pleaded.

Garrus hoisted her, palming her ass with a squeeze.  Her hands hooked around his neck for support. Within a moment, he had her pinned gently on the bed. His carapace slightly dug into her chest. Long dark strains of hair came loose from her bun, sprawling around her. 

He held her by the waist, slowly thrusting and teasing her. Her lips pressed back to him, and once again, he explored her, tasting her, drinking her in. She bucked her hips frantically into his. Her moans spilled into his mouth. Spirits did he feel drunk on her moans.

His claws ran through her hair as he pulled her face closer to him. The twist of strains felt odd as they curled around his hand. They snared in his claws as he tried to shake them loose. Her head jerked back slightly with an accidental tug. 

Her body tensed underneath his weight. Garrus swiftly got off her, tightly holding his mandibles to his jaw. Shepard’s eyes locked on the sky window, watching the passing stars. Lost to him again.

“Shepard—.” Garrus’ tone tinged with worry.  She snapped back to him. 

“I’m fine, please,” she pleaded, pulling him closer and trying to go for another kiss. He pressed his brow plate to her brow instead. 

“Shepard, we don’t have to do this now. It’s okay.”

“But I want to, with you,” she pleaded, pulling his carapace closer. “I just…”

“There will be other nights.” 

“Fuck! All I could do was look out her window. I was just stuck.” A sob erupted from her throat.  “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“I’m not going anywhere. To hell and back, remember? I want to stay.”  He pulled her closer, her head dipping into his cowl. He massaged circles up and down her back. Waiting for her to be ready to talk. This was all still too fresh. 

For minutes, silence hung between them. Her arms slowly curled onto his neck, his mouthplates pressed into her head. 

“If you want, we can watch the elcor Hamlet production you’ve gone on and on about,” Garrus said softly. 

Shepard’s head lifted, her eyes pleading at him. “You’d suffer through that for me?” 

“For you? Anything.”

“If we can last the 14 hours, let’s see the krogran Macbeth production showing on Illium.”

Garrus sighed jokingly. “You’re pushing your luck.”

Shepard cuddled into his side, fluffing pillows around them for more comfort as he displayed his omni tool for the vid. 

An hour in, Shepard shooed away the vid screen out of boredom. “Why don’t we try for a date night instead? Illium has an aquarium and piano bar I’ve wanted to check out.”

“A date sounds nice. Really anything to get me out of sitting through a play.” 

Shepard rolled her eyes at him. “Listen, I appreciate the arts, but I’d like to see how the asari take on the piano. Get enough drinks in me, and I’ll probably start playing something myself.” 

“I didn’t know you could play.”

“Well, I am good with my hands,” Shepard’s eyebrows wiggled at him. “But yeah, I used to play as a way to distract myself when I was with the Reds. Like an escape.”

Garrus pulled her in closer, cherishing every moment of learning something new about her. She always found a way to surprise him. She was so much more than the legends people ascribed to her name.  

“You know, I’ve actually always wanted to learn how to paint when I was a kid,” Garrus said, trying to share something of himself with her too. 

“Why didn’t you?” Shepard looked surprised at that information. 

“I told my dad I wanted to take classes, and the next day he was teaching me how to shoot a gun.”

Shepard’s face soured as he spoke, but Garrus shrugged and continued, “It’s the turian way. I’m painting blood on walls now with my rifle.”

“Your rifle, your paintbrush, the battlefield, your canvas.” 

“To put it mildly.” 

“So can’t be a spectre or an artist according to your dad,” Shepard chipped in. 

“Not that he stopped me, but I saw his reason. C-Sec is something down the middle, something ‘safe’.”

“Safe? C-sec?”

“Financially speaking, look where that leads us.” 

“Well, I’m pretty happy to have you here with me.”

“The only good thing of my time with C-sec was it led me to you,” Garrus conversed nervously. Shepard smiled and brought a gentle kiss to him. The aquarium's blue lights reflected on her skin's pink hues. Bags grew under her eyes from exhaustion; her sharp orange scars glowed, but she was so beautiful to him. 

“What’s your favorite piece to play?” Garrus asked, trying to pull and learn more about her. 

White teeth flashed out in a grin as Shepard pulled out her omni-tool. A holo keyboard in neon orange appeared between them. She cracked her fingers, readying to take on the challenge. 

“Okay, it’s been a while, so give me some grace.”

The tune started simple with repeating notes but built into a soaring melody. Her fingers danced across the board as it became more complex.  His heart swelled watching her. But something about the tune became more and more familiar to him. Her eyes remained focused. Determination shone as she tried to get it just right. The last key hung in the air as she finished. 

“Amazing! But that sounded so familiar. Where is it from?

“Fleet and the Flotilla. I Was Lost Without You is a classic! I bet you can sing along, Vakarian.” Shepard nudged him with a wink. 

“You’re not getting that out of me.” 

“Oh, you’re no fun.”

“I try to be.” He leaned forward and kissed her at her temple and continued. “Why don’t we watch that instead.”

“You got yourself a deal.” 

They collapsed together in the comfort of her bed. Garrus pulled up the vid, while she nuzzled into his side. He was happy for things to go right, just this once. 

[badgloomverse]

I posted 203 times in 2021

57 posts created (28%)

146 posts reblogged (72%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 2.6 posts.

I added 299 tags in 2021

#mod gzela - 81 posts

#mod yma - 48 posts

#gloomverse - 47 posts

#badgloomverse - 44 posts

#mod judge - 32 posts

#mod joe - 14 posts

#mod cocos - 10 posts

#gv - 9 posts

#indigo - 8 posts

#mod wallis - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 116 characters

#it's kinda hard to describe how i pronounce it but it sounds way fucking better than eema you single celled organism

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

the... the ship name of Cumulonimbus Assistant and Seaweed....

it’s....

it’s cuma-

*SHOT*

28 notes • Posted 2021-03-26 11:50:31 GMT

#4

28 notes • Posted 2021-09-23 02:37:33 GMT

#3

The fact that so many things can be hats in the world of Gloomverse will literally never stop being funny. Like imagine you’re on your way to a potluck with a big bowl of soup and some kid dead-sprints up to you and shoves their whole hand in it and when you’re like “Hey kid, what the fuck?” they go “No you don’t get it, my name is Chicken Noodle and I think this is my hat” and you’re like “No, I think you just shoved your grimy child hands into my soup,” but lo and behold, the pot starts glowing and BOOM! Kid gets magic. So obviously you’ve gotta give the bowl to them or whatever, which means you’ve lost all your fucking soup and you can’t even be mad about it because this is a pivotal moment in the kid’s life so you’ve just gotta clap like “congratulations!” but you’re secretly mourning the loss of your favorite soup pot.

31 notes • Posted 2021-09-20 16:19:23 GMT

#2

Gloomball countries as seen by an AI

pretty accurate imho

31 notes • Posted 2021-11-03 10:10:32 GMT

#1

jpeg meme time

41 notes • Posted 2021-05-25 03:55:40 GMT

--------------

Mod Gzela: I'm so fucking sorry for apparently tagging almost 100 posts with my name

[introductions-are-a-spook]

When Smoke Meets the Trees

❁〚 Epilogue 〛❁

I tilted my hand in the lamplight, admiring the sparkle of the wedding ring Andrew had bought me.

He’d proposed whilst, oddly enough, hanging off a bridge. A group of gamblers he’d swindled had hired me to crucify him but were satisfied when he fell.

I thought I would have to dredge him up from the water, but he came to my office not two hours later, sopping wet with the tiny black box in hand.

He told me it’d been his plan the whole time, just like he had the last thousand times I’d been called upon to deduce his misdeeds. I’d succeeded in becoming a private detective, and since he’d continued to raise the stakes in his thievery, I more and more often found myself on his case.

My clients didn’t need to know he was my husband, of course.

He was just like the water he came to me covered in. Uncontainable, but a crucial part of me all the same.

I blew a puff of smoke and resolved to clean my desk to end the day. Looking out my window, I saw an ordinary squirrel scurry up a tree.

It got me thinking.

My door opened and in walked Andrew, hair still wet from a shower. My nose crinkled as he pressed a kiss to my cheek.

“Andrew, love, I…” I trailed off, carefully considering my words. “I think I want to visit Henry,” I admitted.

He pondered this for a moment. “It’s your call, I trust you. Do you want me along?”

I pursed my lips. “No, I want to do this alone.”

He nodded.

A week later, I took a flight to his hometown, a quiet place on the coast of Scotland. The sky stayed a tranquil shade of grey for the duration of my stay, frequently dipping in and out of rain. Good. Henry would’ve liked it that way.

I didn’t explain myself when I visited the church graveyard. I slipped in during the wee hours of the morning, Phantom padding along beside me, setting an umbrella over me, a blanket beneath me, and sitting next to the headstone for a time. I lost myself in his copy of Sherlock Holmes for god-knows-how-long. I even managed to believe the cool rock was his shoulder, for just a brief minute.

I was drawn back into reality by an underlined sentence. His frequent annotations never stood out to me, but this was done in pen.

“‘No, my friend, you might find me a dangerous guest. I have my plans laid, and all will be well.’”

I sighed, a sound that bubbled into a quiet chuckle. Even in death he put me to work.

Dangerous guest… at the church? God’s house was no resting place for one knee-deep in the magic of the dead. Plans laid… did he want me to move him, to where? Or was I overthinking?

The sun was just starting to rise above the dense trees, and it’s rays allowed me a glimpse of a nearby glint. Glass, and a tarnished silver handle.

Henry’s magnifying glass.

I stifled the urge to snatch it, instead gingerly taking it in a handkerchief. It felt heavy in my hand, the memories it carried to pool in my mind.

A small, familiar inscription caught my eye through the lens. Gz xcvy zno gv xgz.

I turned to Phantom, and she met my gaze in an almost human way.

“What are you thinking, girl?” I whispered.

In response, she stood, stretched, and started off out the back gate, following a familiar purple butterfly and squirrel leading to the thick forest beyond. I got up to follow her, leaving all but the magnifying glass behind.

She led me on for a while, occasionally pausing to pounce on the large bugs that crossed her path. We’d diverged from the main path half an hour ago, and only at the end of a faint one and the beginning of unaltered vegetation.

I was starting to get nervous that I'd lose her, so I scooped her up while her back was turned. She mewled and fidgeted until I was forced to set her down.

Down into the brush she went, bolting onward and forcing me to sprint to keep up. I called to her until I saw her come to a sudden stop in a clearing.

It was a cabin. Smoke rose from a small chimney, and the window glowed with a small fire. Phantom trotted up to it like she owned it, purring and rubbing against the brick base.

My stomach had begun to hurt, so I was grateful for the break. “Come back, we don’t know what’s in there,” I scolded her. She didn’t comply, of course.

But I did know, didn’t I? From Serena. This must’ve been Henry’s hideout.

Hand pressed to my gut, I tentatively approached the door and gave it a knock. When nobody answered, Phantom bumped against my shins as if to tell me to go in.

It was musty inside, but warm. Just as Serena said- just like the hidden room- I found books, maps, herbs, the old skeleton and a million other things. He even had pinboards with newspapers and red string and a stamp across each saying SOLVED.

Phantom hopped up on the desk, and I was overcome with nostalgia. It’d been nearly a decade since the discovery. I caught my face in a mirror on the wall. My face had changed with age and hormones and experience, but it was more than that.

I thought about all I’d done. I’d gone through a myriad of lows, losing friends and family, almost getting killed, being beaten, bound, and berated. But I’d also had so many highs- from putting myself through school, to getting a job I loved, transitioning, marrying, and even adopting a child. But Henry hadn’t. He’d never be able to experience any of that sort of thing. That fact had torn me apart since his murder.

There was a letter on his desk, addressed to me. I didn’t hesitate to read it.

Dearest Maxwell,

If you are reading this, I am, without a doubt, dead. I beg you, don’t hold it against my sister. She needed to do what she believed was right.

But I left everything you need to know at school, so I doubt I’m telling you anything you haven’t already considered.

Instead, I’ll leave you with this:

Life is more than what we see here. And though my body may die, my spirit lives on in all I have done. What we discovered. If you ever miss me, turn back to it.

As for the discovery, we know two things: that it is not original to us, and that we have only scratched the surface. This is the true meaning of the code. If you care to harness its true potential, look to our predecessor.

There are people out there that are just like you, Maxwell. Andrew is one of them, though I can’t guarantee he knows it yet. No doubt you’ve gotten the sense that you are meant to represent something? So do they. Find them.

When you do uncover the true secrets of necromancy, I ask that you do not use them to bring me back. In doing so, you would only tether me to a world that is no longer mine. In turn, you would be looking backwards instead of forwards, and I don’t want that for you. Or to quote;

“‘You might find me a dangerous guest. I have my plans laid, and all will be well.’”

I love you. And I look forward to all that you’re going to do.

With thanks for everything, take care.

Your friend and brother always,

Henry Percival Mackay

I didn’t cry, nor did I choke up. I had finished with that a long time ago. I simply swallowed with calm resolve to respect what he’d left behind, and the ways in which he lived on.

Phantom had wandered over to the bookshelf, curling up beside her old and battered copy of Der Einzige und sein Eigentum. I’d realised a long time ago the she- well, he- was the author, the teal man in the flames.

“Did you know?” I asked her, going over and scratching her ears. “That you would take this form?” She almost seemed to shake her head. “Poor thing, you just wanted to write your books, didn’t you?” I laughed. “It’s an honour to know you, at least.”

No wonder we were allowed to discover this. Phantom was just using us to get her back in his original body. The skeleton! The thought made me laugh even harder.

I earned myself an indignant scratch when I held my sides and snickered, “Well we can’t both be Max. I should start calling you Mr. Stirner.” I was met with an unimpressed look. “Calm down, I’ll still help you! I’m curious to see where this goes.”

What a life I’d lived, and I still had more to do! Who cared why I was special? I was me. And that, as I’d found time and time again, was the best way to be.

❁〚 Acknowledgements 〛❁

I made the mistake of publishing my first draft and calling it done. It didn’t take me long to realise that the story was, frankly, shit. So here I am, half a year later, with a drastically different, yet finally finished project I am genuinely very proud of.

To everyone who has read any of my works, thank you. To everyone who interacts with the posts and/ or leaves comments, thank you even more so.

Thank you to the creators of Realicide for making such a wonderful series. Your work has touched me and many others, and will always be important to me.

To my friends, Nikolai, Autumn, Echo, and Viv, your feedback and support have meant the world to me.

A quick shoutout to my school librarian, who has always been patient and kind to me through my exploits into the world of reading and writing.

To another teacher of mine, Anessa, for making sure I’m okay and reigning me in when I get too ambitious.

An extra thank you to Teresa, for always supporting me. Even though we are separated by distance, knowing I always have someone in my corner is an ever-present comfort.

Above all, a special thank you to August, who read what I asked her to, listened when I rambled, and gave me so much honest criticism. This story- my characters- wouldn’t be here without you- nor would I be the person I am today if I never met you.

And finally, thank you to me. I poured a lot of time and tears into this damn thing, and I’m gonna take pride in that. I don’t think that’s so unreasonable.

See you in the next story, everyone. Until then, cheers!

[ask-them-bois]

A King and His Soldier, part 2/3

(Okay, well. Zeruki appeared ahead of schedule. Let’s figure out how the hell that happened.)

-AgressiveUndead began trolling GlitchingVampire!-

AU: Blxlit.

GV: AlMMawt.

AU: …

GV: … lMMao hi.

AU: Hello.

GV: What do you want?

AU: I need you to find someone for me. Ribbit.

GV: Oh yeah? Who? And also, why should I care?

AU: Xre you fxmilixr with x boy nxmed Ursidx?

GV: I think so? It sounds faMMiliar.

GV: oh.

GV: wait…

GV: ….

GV: Yeah I know that naMMe.

AU: I thought xs much. How do you know him?

GV: … I knew hiMM from the CoMMpound. He was the engineer MMy… designs… got sent to. He was, like, MMy assigned partner.

AU: I need you to find him. Ribbit.

GV: Why.

AU: Becxuse I need his xncestor on my side, before Mxddel cxn get him. Becxuse I know who his xncestor worked for, xnd I’d much rxther hxve them both on my side. It’d mxke this whole thing x lot exsier. Ribbit.

GV: I have no idea what you’re talking about dude, lMMao. But the answer is no. I’MM not gonna go find someone froMM the coMMpound. I blew up those bridges a long tiMMe ago.

AU: …

AU: I understxnd thxt, but I xsk you to reconsider. I wouldn’t xsk xt xll if it wxsn’t importxnt, Blxlit. Ribbit.

GV: What’s in it for MMe?

AU: Wow, rexlly?

GV: You realize what you’re asking MMe, right? You want MMe to go find soMMeone froMM a place where I was literally IMMPRISONED and ENSLAVED. A place I BLEW UP. What if he turns MMe in? I’MM a wanted robot, MMusrio. I can’t just get in contact with the Fleet like it’s no big deal. So if I’MM gonna do that, I want soMMething in return.

AU: …

AU: Blxlit, under thxt childish, prxnkster personx of yours, you’re quite… xstute, xren’t you? Ribbit.

GV: Bitch I built war machines. I MMake robots and eXXplosives. I’MM hella sMMarter than you take MMe for. I’MM hella ass-toot.

AU: Xstute.

GV: Ass-toot.

AU: There’s thxt childishness I wxs spexking of. Ribbit.

GV: lMMao

AU: Fine. Whxt do you wxnt, then?

GV: ... I don’t wanna say yet.

AU: Why?

GV: Because I’MM not ready for you to pay off the favor so fast. Having a zombie wizard at my beck and call? Who the hell would pass that up?

AU: I’m xn undexd necromxncer. Ribbit.

GV: Ass-toot.

AU: Ugh. Fine.

GV: Good.

GV: I’ll find your guy, AlMMawt. But you’re gonna owe me big for this.

-GlitchingVampire ceased trolling AggressiveUndead!- -GlitchingVampire began trolling SoldieringSkybear!-

GV: Hey you.

GV: Are you still alive?

GV: Been a while, huh.

GV: If you’re still in the city, MMeet me on a rooftop, okay? We need to talk.

-GlitchingVampire ceased trolling SoldieringSkybear!-

Corden closed down Trollian and spun around in his chair. Once, twice, and he jumped up, catching the chair before it knocked into the desk.

“Batmom, I’m gonna go out for a bit. You wanna come?” He spoke to a large meow-beast tower that stood next to the desk. After a moment, a very small bat poked her head out, golden eyes blinking sleepily.

She squeaked, and with a flutter of four wings, lighted on his shoulder.

“Cool.” Corden made sure to pocket his knives and a handful of gadgets, before he left his respiteblock. Jumping down the stairs two at a time, he stopped at the bottom and glanced around. “Ken-ken?” He shouted.

“Yo?” Makeno looked up from where he was laid on the lounge-plank, scrolling his palmhusk, hair still damp from a shower.

“I’m going out for a bit.”

“M’kay. Be safe.”

“No promises.” Corden snickered, extending two fingers as he walked past. Makeno reached up and connected two of his own fingers to Corden’s.

“Pale for you, Cordy.”

“Pale for you, too.”

Corden stepped outside, rolling his neck as he headed down the walk and made his way to the city proper.

Once he was among the towering hivestems and workhives, his tense shoulders loosened. The buzz of the city hummed in his ears, hyping him up until blue and red sparks were dancing along his horns.

He roamed the streets for a while, a vague plan beginning to form in his head. He paused on the sidewalk and craned his neck back, looking up at the soaring buildings. “If there’s one place to find him, it’d be up there, huh?” He asked Batmom.

She chirped, and he nodded thoughtfully. Turning, his cape swishing, he marched into a nearby alley between a hivestem and coffeehive. With a burst of psionics and a jump, he landed easily on the fire escape that went up the side of the hivestem.

The smell of the coffeehive’s garbage bin in his sniffnub, he quickly scaled the fire escape to… well, *escape* the smell. The higher he went, the bolder he became, his psionics swirling around him to keep him from falling if he slipped. His hair began to stand on end from the energy alone.

Wind blew it back from his face as he neared the top of the ninety-story hive. He vaulted over the lip of the roof and landed easily. Standing up straight, he looked around; it was a clear night, and from the edge of the building, he could see across the whole city. He stared at the millions of lights, almost entranced by their glow.

Across the city, hidden by the towering buildings between him and it, was the burned out, collapsing remains of the compound. The place he grew up, worked, and lived for the first sweeps of his life. The place he blew up, leaving virtually no one alive, in a daring attempt to escape. No one, save one person, who he’d sent a single message before it went up in flames.

Corden sat on the edge of the roof, dangling his legs. All he had to do now was wait, so he allowed himself to indulge in his memory files. He slid one hand over the back of his shoulders, where he could feel the tips of the scars that marred his back.

“Still don’t know why they thought flogging a robot was a good idea. All it did was tear up my exo-skin.” He said to Batmom. The tiny bat only trilled in response.

Corden sat there for a good half hour, watching the city as he got lost in painful memories. Finally, however, he heard the telltale sound of several jingling bells as someone vaulted onto the roof behind him.

“Ayyye, it’s the Cordy-bordy-robo-bro! Wassup manbot? Dude it’s been like- fucking sweeps huh? Fuck yeah man, whatcha been doing since the compound went-” The newcomer made several vocals to indicate explosions, before he laughed, his loud voice amplifying his thick lisp.

Corden held in a sigh as he got to his feet and turned to face them. “Nice to see you again, too, Engineer-class Fleetman Zeruki Ursida.” He said formally, his posture suddenly stiff as he swept into a low bow.

Zeruki stared at him like he’d grown a second head; at least, Corden thought he did. It was hard to tell with the hair. The tealblood’s tail lashed, sending the bells jingling vigorously.

“Oh, so we’re being all form-fit-finessed here, are we? Fine. Nice to see you, Gold-Station #315.184.514, Bloodline: Blalit.” Zeruki stuck out his split tongue in disgust, “WTF man, I don’t do that,” He blew a raspberry, “shit unless it’s with the ssssssuperiors. You and I are buddies, ain’t we?” He clicked his tongue, his tail bobbing and jingling again. He tugged on the lip of his helmet, nodding to Batmom, “Hello, missy ma’am.”

“Are we?” Corden repeated, his voice flat and emotionless.

Zeruki shrugged, bouncing on his toes. “I dunno. Sure. Yep. LMAO. Anywaysies, what didja message me for? I thought you never wanted to see me again, after you,” he waved a hand vaguely, making more explosive vocalizations, “ya knoooooow? After you killed all our buddy-bros and left me to clean up the mess.” His expression soured for a moment, before he was grinning again.

Corden frowned; he wasn’t sure what the meant. “I didn’t want to see you, but a… friend, asked I find you again. He needs you for… something.” He explained.

“Ah, dope. Totes. Uhhhhhh, he wouldn’t happen to be an olive dude? Real skinny, looks like a doritos bag? Got soda-cola-pop for hair?”

Corden frowned. “No… That sounds like Oliver, though. You haven’t been talking to her, have you?”

“Eh, meh, kinda, no.” Zeruki snickered, his tail shivering and jingling. “They approached me after I left the base a few nights back. Told me they wanted to talk, and started going off about some magicky-tacky-spooky stuff. Wanted my blood so he could meet some doctor or ssssssomething. No idea what that was about, so I bounced. Now your dude wants me, too? Didn’t know I was so famous.” He grinned with a mouthful of crooked teeth.

“I don’t think it’s you they want. They want your ancestor. But believe me, my dude is on the right side here. I can give you his Trollian Handle.” Corden pulled out his palmhusk and did just that.

“Freaky-deaky, dude-bro-bot, buuuuuut… I dunno if I’m down for this shit. I’m just trying to keep my skull off a threshcutioner’s sickle, ya know? I’m barely making it as an engineer, duder, I don’t need to get caught up in any of this shhhhhit.” Zeruki shifted his feet, frowning.

“I don’t know, but okay. Just give Musrio a message. I’ve done my job, so I’m going home.” Corden pocketed his palmhusk and turned way.

In a flash, Zeruki was at his side, his tail surprisingly dexterous as it wrapped around Corden’s metal wrist. “Yo, hold it up, brody-Cody! You just gonna hitch-snitch and ditch like that? Maybe I’ve got a message for you, too!” He said sharply, before looking down at the metal hand. “Yoooooo, that’s new.”

Corden wrenched his arm from the quad-horned troll’s grasp, before he raised an eyebrow. “A message?”

“Yeah-huh. Uhhhh… what was it.” Zeruki screwed up his face in thought, before he perked up, his tail wagging and chiming. “Oh yeah! You remember Fallen? The freaky-deaky-spooky dude who patrolled the compound sometimes, ‘cause his ancestor ran the place? He’s out, dude. You’ve got a mory-dory-morail right? They had history or some shit, didn’t they? Exes, or something?”

Corden stepped back, alarmed. “How do you know all that? Ken-ken never talks about his ex.” He demanded, one hand reaching for the knives at his side.

“Aye, dude, I got freaky ears, remember? These bitches hear everything!” Zeruki slapped the side of his helmet for emphasis, before he flinched, “Ow. LOL. Anywhoodle-doodle, he’s out of confinement again. Back on the streets, you get it? His daddy-oh paid his bail or whatevs.

Fallen is fuckin’ nuts, man, I’ll bet nothin-touchin’ he’s gonna come visit Makey-dakey-sharky-chef. He’s, uh… what do those weeby-dweebs call it? Yonder-wander. Sssssunder-thunder. Whatever, LMAO, one of those. He’s got a bone to pick with Faslet, and a general lack of a thinkpan. So…” He sucked air through his teeth and blew another raspberry, before popping his lips. “Yeah. Watch out for Fally-bally.”

Corden stared at him, before he nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll let Ken-ken know.” He heaved a sigh, stepping back. “Thanks, Zeruki.”

“Yeppers-peppers, Cordy-bordy-bro-bot.” He rolled his R’s, and made a buzzing sound. He raised an arm and rolled his glove forward, checking a device wrapped around his wrist. “Oh, brrr, I gotta get home. Mama’ll be wanting dinner before sunrise.” He snapped a two finger salute to Corden. “Until next time, bro-bot!”

With that, he turned, ran for the edge of the roof, and leaped off, shrieking, the fuzzy end of his tail the last thing to disappear from view.

Corden rolled his eyes, walking over to the edge of the building and looking down.

Zeruki was not a smear of cyan on the pavement, but instead a blur, bounding between the walls and roofs of the skyscrapers and buildings like a free-running character in a videogame.

Corden faintly heard him shriek again, cackling manically.

“He’s nuts.” Corden told Batmom, who chirped in amused agreement. “Guess we should go home, too, huh?”

Corden shook out his hands, a burst of psionic energy rocketing across his body as he stepped off the other side of the building and made his way home.