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froot-batty · 6 months

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Gods worst friend group !

I'm excited to finally be able to talk about them. Venture down there if you beware

These guys are pretty entwined, so just like in the Twobat backstory, It'll just be one big thing. BIIIIIGGG thing, sorry

Viktor Fries was born in Denmark, an only child to two very loving parents. He'd always had a love for the cold, which grew into a love for winter, which grew into a love for cryogenics. His parents couldn't get him enough books or research papers written about the subject, so his eventual decision to pursue it in higher education came as no surprise. At the time, Gotham University and WayneTech were the leading institutions in cryogenic research, so Viktor packed his bags and ventured off to America.

Kirk Langstrom was born a sickly little baby at Gotham General. He was born with Chediak-Higashi syndrome, which not only caused his albinism, but made Kirk very prone to bacterial infections, especially when he was younger. It would also cause motor issues as Kirk aged, resulting in the need of mobility aids like canes or a wheelchair. As a child, Kirk was teased for his appearance, likened to a vampire - or, on one occasion, an albino bat another kid had found and presented to him. Instead of being offended, this moment was what kickstarted Kirk's love for bats, and eventual pursual of chiropterology.

And for Hugo Strange....well, no one really knows where he came from.

The three met when they were all in college, and they became friends almost instantly. They were three smart outcasts who had little to no real friends before this, so naturally they latched onto one another. Hugo a little more than the other two, but I'll get into that.

For the time they were in college, they were good for each other! But as most things go, they drifted a bit after college ended. Viktor by now had fallen in love with Nora and gotten his job at WayneTech, and Kirk had gotten the opportunity to take a research trip to study Bracken Cave (which is where he'd meet his eventual wife, Francine). This left Hugo mostly to his own devices, which he put towards his career at Arkham Asylum and eventually becoming the head of it.

When Kirk eventually returned from his trip, they reconnected with one another. Now here's where I'm gonna talk individually about what happened to Fuck These Guys Up.

Chronologically, Nora getting sick and Fries' accident is what happens first. When Nora started getting really sick, Viktor and her had no idea what it really was, only that it had the potential to kill her if they didn't find a treatment. Viktor's desperation to find it would eventually lead him to Hugo, who agreed to assist Viktor in his research. When Viktor and Nora mutually decided to freeze her to give Viktor more time, Hugo allowed them to build the machine that would freeze her in an abandoned room in the basement of Arkham (which Hugo was using for his own experiments).

Viktor panicked during the process of Nora freezing, and went to turn the machine off in the middle of it, not fully thinking through what he was doing. It caused the machine to malfunction and the chamber (with Nora in it) to explode outward, releasing everything that had been meant to cryogenically preserve Nora out into the room. The injuries and exposure to chemicals should have killed them both, but the temperatures (and medical assistance) managed to preserve the both of them, though it left Viktor as a living but slowly rotting corpse, who is both being killed by the cold and needs it to keep living in whatever state he's in now.

Hugo was actually the one to find the both of them. Though he had personally never cared for Nora, he followed the plan she and Viktor had laid out, making a new chamber to preserve her while he had a suit specially made for Viktor in order to keep him alive. With a tracker installed inside of it so Hugo could know where he was at any time.

This is probably a good time to cut and explain what's wrong with Hugo. He is...insanely devoted to both Kirk and Viktor. They were both his first friends and he loves them very much and he will Keep Them at Any Cost.

So after Viktor awoke, and realized that Nora had been preserved (even though part of him didn't want that anymore), Hugo instructed him to begin working on a cure for her. Hugo couldn't care less if she died he'd get Viktor to himself then, but Viktor had grown dangerously depressed after the accident and the thought of one day being reunited with a cured Nora was the only thing motivating him to stay alive.

Because Nora's chamber is in the basement of Arkham Asylum, Hugo has control of when and for how long Viktor can visit her. If he doesn't make sufficient progress on her cure, he isn't allowed in.

Now, onto Kirk. He had no idea that was all happening, as their contact with one another had been limited, even after reconnecting. One day, though, Kirk had mentioned his interest in changing his current study to focus on his condition, CHS, instead of his bats. Mostly because he was worried about progressing into the accelerated phase, as most people with CHS do. But Hugo suggested instead that he could figure out some sort of treatment for Kirk - and don't worry, you can just go back to your bats! I promise it'll work; in fact, it'll have you feeling like Batman!

So Kirk, suffering from chronic pain and various disabling motor issues, agreed happily. He visited Hugo's lab when the "treatment" was finished and received two injections in the neck, which turned into those two scars. When it didn't work after a couple of days, Kirk was disappointed, and was ready to tell Hugo that he needed to try something else when something...happened.

Kirk blacked out for a couple of hours and woke up shirtless, covered in blood in an empty alleyway. And, strangest of all, he wasn't in pain.

And this kept happening. Every couple of nights he would black out and return home bloody. He attempted to hide this from his wife, but something like that can't stay under wraps forever, so when she found out she urged him to talk to Hugo and figure out what the hell that "treatment" did.

So he did (rather angrily, of course). Hugo would explain that the treatment was actually an experimental chemical he'd developed to be able to turn humans into animals, specially developed for Kirk to turn "at will" instead of being stuck like that permanently. Because of Hugo choosing a vampire bat as the animal for the specific "treatment" developed for Kirk, he would need to feed on blood while in bat-form, thus the reason he was bloody every time he awoke from his blackouts.

There was only one bonus to the transformation. The concoction was, actually, a sort of cure. The bat form didn't have the same chronic pain or issues that Kirk's normal body did. But it came at the cost of being a mindless, bloodthirsty monster.

All he needed to do, Hugo said, was figure out how to become the bat instead of letting it take over, and then he'd practically be the perfect creature!

He would have to keep coming to Hugo for regular injections, though.

Kirk initially, obviously, refused - he wasn't a monster, and he didn't want to hurt anyone or anything just to help himself. But he kept thinking about it. And thinking about it. Could he really tame the bat, and live as something powerful and strong? Something he'd never been?

It weighed on his mind so much that he inevitably returned to Hugo, just to try it. What he didn't know at the time was that the injections were purposefully addictive, growing worse and worse the more he returns to take them.

Hugo Strange friend of the year everybody

#hugo loves his besties. they want to crush him into a fine paste #frootverse #hugo strange #viktor fries #mr freeze #kirk langstrom #man bat #batman #rogues gallery #my art #rogue design

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where-dreams-dwell · 7 months

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It’s almost like the Usher children *knew* they weren’t going to live long and so they intentially left no marks upon the world.

Camille’s speech about how none of the kids actually makes or does anything is so startling: here is a group of people given all the opportunities and access money can buy, all of whom have had this their entire adult life, and they haven’t used it to create or build anything.

You can almost sense Roderiks disappointment in them, in his speech to Perry. He has this hyper focus on what his ‘investment’ money will fund, and says that ‘Ushers change the world’. But outside of himself and Madeline, not one of them has.

Frederick took the money, if he ever got any, and probably funnelled it back into his house or the company. By the looks of it he doesn’t have anything other than his family and his job, so there’s nothing for Roderick to invest in.

Tammy funnelled the money into a lifestyle brand, but one that wouldn’t have her at the front and centre. She scathingly reveals to Bill that she selected him to be her husband based upon his brand and marketability, showing she was ready to create this new empire but with her pulling strings in the shadows. From the outside it probably looks like she hasn’t created anything at all and that it’s all Bill, using his wife’s money. On top of this, the running gag of her storyline is that her brand and ideas aren’t even original, but are ripped off of Goop. So she hasn’t made anything new, and if Goldbug has any impact at all it will be no different to another more successful, more well know product. Hardly ‘changing the world’.

Victorine has some medial training but she looks to be a supporting role to her partner within their clinic, in which Al is the talented surgeon who people come to see and Victorine is a kind of silent partner. So she decided to go into medical devices or smart medical tech, but she relies upon the ideas and skills of others. As Camille said ‘the mesh is the surgeons, that’s why she’s fucking the surgeon’. And her medical knowledge seems to be limited if she thinks just her word and some money will move their experiments into human trials. So she also hasn’t ‘changed the world’ she’s just found someone else who was trying to and co-op-ed their ideas. You could even argue she poisoned those ideas, as Al mentions that the pain medication Victorine has been supplying looks like street drugs and wouldn’t stand up in any medical paper or research study.

Camille is, like she said, spinning furiously and going nowhere. She looks skilled in her field (from the analysis scenes we get, and Madeleine’s signing off on her PR analysis post Perry’s death) but she works from the shadows and hasn’t ‘created’ anything that wasn’t there before. There have been PR spin doctors before and there will be more to come; Camille offers nothing new ans hasn’t ‘changed the world’ in any measurable way. From what little we see of her work she hasn’t recreated a PR agency, hasn’t trained up other spin doctors under her, hasn’t created a brand or company which will outlast her. She leaves nothing behind to show what her skills or talents were.

Leo is shot down quickly when he claims he makes games: he doesn’t, he gives money to people who do. So he too will leave little to nothing behind when he’s gone. His references to past boyfriends show no long lasting relationships in his life and he has no other hobbies or pursuits we know of. Like Camille he hasn’t created a company to help with game design, hasn’t trained up others within this field he claims as his own. Even with the gaming ‘world’ it sounds like he changed very little. Fredrick’s throw away comments about Leo’s flat reveal that Leo hadn’t even had input in the decoration or style of his own home: he just latches onto the styles, ideas, aesthetic of his current boyfriend and goes with their ideas and plans. It’s such a small tiny thing but he truly has no original ideas in any aspect of his life.

And finally Perry, who’s desperate for that start up money but clearly has no plans or ideas on how to use it. He’s had a year and his main idea is an exclusive whisky bar. Even this idea, for all its crude intentions, shows his lack of vision: he doesn’t understand that to get the reputation he claims his bars would have will take time. You don’t just ‘create’ a consequent free bar celebrating decadence and privilege overnight. Reputations take time and as Madeline asks ‘what will be different about this one’ to draw people in to begin with? Studio 54 (which he compares his club to). only operated for 3 years before closing: not the smartest inclusion in an investment pitch.

To be fair to Perry though, looking at what the other siblings did or didn’t do with their loan money it seems a bit unfair that his ‘Blow job whiskey bar’ was shot down so decisively and cruelty. Assuredly Leo’s ‘video game studio for just myself’, Camille’s ‘PR agency just for me with my two assistants’, Victorines ‘medical training and clinic where I help out other surgeons’, Tammys ‘subscription lifestyle brand ripped off from a celebrity’ and Fredrick’s ‘I’d just like to work with you Dad’ were all clearly given the green light. But Perry apparently wasn’t good enough. Maybe this was a reaction to Roderick getting the news he was dying as so he wanted Perrys investment at least to actually change something, but still. He might as well give him the money either way at that point.

And I think it’s probably intended as a commentary on the ultra wealthy. Like of course people with more money than most counties have no plans to leave anything for the next generation. They have achieved their high levels of success by being solely focused upon themselves and so are honestly incapable of considering others. They are solely interested in enjoying the life they are currently living and why strain themselves to fight and build something when they don’t have to?

But it also works so well as a supernatural legacy and ironic conclusion to Roderick’s deal: he agreed that none of his bloodline would outlive him, and so none of them built anything that would.

#the fall of the house of usher #spoilers #mike flanagan #tfothou #legacy #ultra wealthy

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djarrex · 1 year

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heartbeat

Captain Rex x f!reader

masterlist | read on ao3

Rex hears his baby's heartbeat for the first time.

pregnant!reader. dad Rex. this is so soft, y'all. there's also brief mentions of Rex feeling guilty, but overall, this is just a fluffy, self-indulgent fic. about 1.2k words.

When you come out from your room after changing into something more loose-fitting and comfortable, you see the new at-home fetal doppler device laying on the kitchen table just outside the box it came in, and Rex is sitting there with his face buried in the little instructions foldable that came with it. Ever the researcher, Rex more than likely has read every word since opening it, whereas you would have just skimmed to what looked most important. Or, rather, you would've looked at the pictures, using the visuals as the sole model. A hand on your belly, you let out a light laugh, making Rex look up from what appeared to be pretty intense reading.

“Tricky piece of hardware?” you tease.

“I like to be thorough,” he points out matter-of-factly. “Wanna make sure I do this right to get the best results.”

You plop onto the couch, the creak of the springs doing the tortuous job of reminding you of your changing body. “What’d you find out?”

Rex follows you over. “Well, we want to make sure we're not confusing your heartbeat with the baby's. There are a few other things we may hear too, like the movement of your placenta or arteries.” He pauses, placing a pillow at the very end of the couch and motioning for you to lay on your back. “You still have a full bladder, right?”

You scoff. “Yes. Remember you scolded me a couple hours ago into drinking all of that water at lunch, and then told me afterwards to not use the bathroom?”

“It was for a reason, love,” he reminds you with a teasing smile, lifting your shirt up to the slope of your belly. “A full bladder helps push your uterus out of the pelvic cavity, that way the fetal heartbeat is more easily detected.”

“Wow. You really did do your research. I like it when you talk medical to me.”

Rex chuckles at that and squirts a copious amount of lotion on your belly, rubbing it in gentle circles. “I’ve already verified the device is functional and sterilized the probe face.”

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh. “You used it to check your own heartbeat first, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” he replies cheekily, deliberately avoiding your eyes with the response. “You ready, love?”

“Let’s hear what this little bean's got.”

Rex clicks the receiver on, a device that’s small enough to fit in his hand. A display lights up with a little beep, a flatline and a zero sitting stagnant. A cylindrical probe is held in Rex's other hand, and as he rests the face of it against your lotioned belly, you suck in a breath of air. Your own heartbeat thumps in your ears as you watch the focus creasing in Rex's handsome features. He’s moving the probe so slowly, so particularly, that you know he’s searching for something specific that he had to have read in his research. His hand turns the probe so that the face changes angles, starting low near your pubic bone up towards your navel then back down again.

This is a moment the two of you have waited for, for a while.

The beginning of this journey was rough, the first several weeks being nothing but bedridden illness and nausea that lasted longer than just the mornings. You stayed at home, too drained and lacking any energy to do necessary things, like go shopping or cook. A lot of days included you ordering food to be delivered, and groceries as well. It was hard to not have Rex there by your side, to help with things that would normally be a breeze for you – and you know he feels guilty for that, even though both of you are more than understanding that it isn't his fault. Still, in the odd hours of the night when he actually was able to contact you to check in only added to his needless guilt, upset with himself that he was never there laying beside you to rub your back or retrieve whatever it was that you required.

You’re a little more than a few months into this pregnancy and you’re not under any impression that Rex’s schedule will miraculously change to you and your unborn child’s benefit, but moments like this one now make it all worth it.

The quick thrumming of the baby’s heartbeat comes out muffled through the handheld over the whooshing waves in the background, the beats monitored on the display. The sound fills you with warmth and you laugh in astonishment, a choked sound as tears fill your eyes. Your hand clasps over your mouth and you look to Rex, who looks completely entranced and in awe – but there’s something else in those warm eyes of his.

The hand covering your mouth instead finds his wrist, fingers gently enclosing around it. His eyes are positively glowing as he watches himself slowly and carefully run the probe face in steady circles around a specific part of your protruding belly. Rex remains extremely silent, lips twitching in the most miniscule of movements as he concentrates.

An overwhelming sense of pride floods into Rex. He can’t believe he created this. Life – natural life. A clone soldier, a man bred for nothing more than to be fodder in battle, created life from love. It’s just beneath this device, growing in the womb of the one he loves. For the very first time he can hear it, the beating heart of it a flicker of sound that he’ll surely remember forever. The shame and guilt that he constantly feels for rarely being present to support you flees him in this moment, replaced with the overriding feelings of promise and joy.

You already know the answer to your impending question, but you want to hear Rex's voice, to prompt him after being silent since switching on the doppler.

“This is our baby’s heartbeat, what we’re hearing?”

Rex clears his throat, using the back of the hand that’s holding the receiver to wipe at the unshed tears in his eyes. “Yes. Yes, it is.” Eyes shimmering, he looks up at you, offering up the devices. "You wanna try?"

You nod, taking both devices from his hands and quickly placing the probe back where Rex just had it. It takes you a few tries to find it, but then the rapid little heartbeat is coming back to life once again.

"It's perfect," you say softly with admiration. "A perfect little heartbeat."

Rex's head lowers then, his forehead meeting your belly. He inhales and exhales shakily.

"Are you okay, Rex?"

When he looks up at you, a tear is streaming down his cheek. "More than okay. I'm so happy."

You laugh through a sudden sob just as Rex goes to kneel closer to you. He kisses you gently, a smile forming on his lips against yours. He folds his hands over your own and the two of you stay like that, foreheads pressed together and hands holding the doppler as one, the sound of your baby's heartbeat filling the room. It's just the three of you here and now, everything on the outside forgotten in this moment.

@pinkiemme @twistedstitcher27 @wild-karrde @rain-on-kamino @ner-runi @literallydontlook @rexxdjarin @rowansparrow @burningfieldof-clover @commander-sunshine

#djarrex writes #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #cw pregnancy #star wars fic

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writeforfandoms · 10 months

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Welcome to New York 4

Find the series masterlist

Here we are, folks. The official introduction to the larger Spider Society! Things won’t go badly.

Yet.

Warning: Swearing, shock and awe, I think Lyla is awesome so now you do too, Miguel is still Mr. Grumpypants.

Word count: 2.5k

You’d kind of figured you were off the hook by now. You hadn’t seen Spiderman since he’d threatened you (although you’d caught glimpses of other Spider-people). You had stopped investigating, as you were told.

You’d given up your primary hobby. Which sucked. But you liked not vanishing.

And you figured something else would catch your attention. Eventually.

You did not expect to hear your window slide open nearly a month after your last meeting with Spiderman. You froze, in the middle of putting together a little snack, and then grabbed a knife before turning to look.

Spiderman in your living room was no less intimidating, standing taller than life. Even though you knew he was real, had been close enough to feel the heat of him.

You swallowed hard and very pointedly put the knife back away.

“Good choice.” He didn’t move towards you, letting you approach him. Which you did. Slowly.

“I haven’t done anything.” You eyed him, a little more emotionally prepared this time. Not to say you weren’t nervous - your heart was attempting to gallop out of your chest.

“No. You haven’t.” And he sounded somehow displeased about that. Like he wouldn’t mind having an excuse to throw you into some dark cell somewhere.

You licked your lips, shifting your weight, gaze darting around the room. But there were no hints, no clues. Just Spiderman standing, arms at his sides, calm as anything, in the light of your living room. Which did give you a practically unprecedented chance to study the design of his suit. “Okay. Well. Uh. Why are you here?”

He was quiet for a few more moments, a few of the longest of your life. Then he sighed softly, so softly you almost didn’t hear, and lifted his hands. A few taps on the device strapped to his wrist, and he pulled up a document. A flick of his fingers sent the document to your pad, which chimed softly at the incoming message. You hurried to open it, scanning through the first paragraph.

Everything screeched to a halt.

“What…?” You went back and read it more carefully. There was your legal name, and “offer of employment”, and a sum of money greater than any other job you’d had. You lifted your gaze slowly from the glowing document to Spiderman. “I don’t understand.”

“The work you put in on your research was solid,” he admitted, sounding like it physically pained him to admit as much. “Some of my colleagues think it’s a good idea to bring you on board to help with some… organizational needs.”

Meaning he didn’t think so. Somehow, you were both hurt and not surprised. You dropped your gaze to the contract again, hiding behind it.

“So you’re offering me a job.”

He muttered something that sounded like a curse. “Yes. Read through it. You’ve got until Friday to decide. Meet me at 7pm, same building you poked around in.”

“Okay,” you agreed almost mindlessly, brain still rebooting from the sheer shock of it all. “Friday at 7.” You looked up to thank him.

But he was gone.

You breathed out slowly. Well. He was a bit of a dramatic one. Did that come with the territory of being a Spider-person, or was it just him?

Shaking your head, you finally actually sat on the couch, settling in to read through the contract. It sounded… good. Too good, really. On property medical. Higher salary. Negotiable time off.

Honestly, it made you suspicious. A job offer, out of the blue, tempting enough to be hard to resist? Yup. You were suspicious now.

“The fuck is this about,” you muttered, reading through the job duties again. Which were not actually that helpful. Organizing and filing, both digital and physical. Retrieval of data upon request. Assisting with research. Sounded a bit like a librarian position, but you honestly had no idea how they could need a librarian.

You made a few notes, highlighted a few things, and then shoved it aside so you could actually sleep. Or at least try.

Of course, you couldn’t really leave it alone all week.

It could be some kind of trap, part of you argued. A very elaborate one.

But totally unnecessary, the less paranoid and more logical part of you pointed out. He could have just hauled you off if he wanted to. You knew he was strong enough.

Which meant it was probably an actual, legitimate job offer.

And that? Just the possibility of that got you excited and a little jittery.

You might have arrived fifteen minutes early on Friday. You weren’t sure if you were meant to meet him down on the ground floor or the floor where you’d met Mayday and her dad. Going on a hunch, you went up to that floor.

The view from up here was still beautiful, with lots of green around. Up here, the buildings weren’t so close together, letting evening sunlight through. Which was almost certainly how they maintained the green spaces. You weren’t so high up that you were quite above the traffic, not here, but you could see where the rest of the building was.

Actually, this building was kind of ridiculously tall. Much, much taller than all the surrounding buildings, for sure.

“Who even needs that many floors?” you mumbled to yourself, bracing your hands against the railing to look up.

“We do.”

You jumped, whipping around to stare at Spiderman. He hadn’t quite joined you outside, standing in the doorway so the shadow of the building kept him half-hidden, the red on his suit almost startling.

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack,” you accused, pressing one hand to your chest.

He didn’t apologize, watching you. At least, you assumed he was, as his mask was on. As always. “What’s your decision?”

You breathed in slowly, trying to calm your heartbeat. “I accept.”

He nodded once, short and sharp. “Be here on Monday, then.”

“I need to give my previous job a bit of warning,” you protested, frowning. “I can’t just vanish on them.”

“You’re a security risk,” he ground out. “Either you start immediately, or this all goes away.”

You huffed. Well. He was not doing great on improving your opinion of him. Then again, he clearly wasn’t trying. “Alright, fine.”

“Smart choice.” He straightened a little.

“I do have some questions.”

He waved you off. “Monday. Be here early.” He took a step back, melding into the darkness of the building.

And then he was gone, leaving you alone on the balcony.

You spent a few more minutes up there thinking over the interaction before you left. You picked up dinner on the way home and then settled in for the weekend.

Honestly, you had no idea what to expect Monday morning. The bottom part of the building, the part you had access to, was bustling with business people. It looked like businesses rented out the office spaces. Which was a smart way for the Spider-people to generate money, honestly.

Nobody even gave you a second look as you took the elevator up to the top floor you could get to. You found an out of the way spot to sit and wait, humming a bit to yourself. This part of the hallway was quiet, office doors closed and only the occasional person walking past.

So when someone called your name, you looked up, a little surprised. A beautiful black woman stood in front of you, hand on her hip. But she looked… different, somehow. You blinked twice, tipping your head a little.

“That’s me,” you said, standing and smiling.

“Come with me.” She turned and started walking. You hurried a bit to catch up.

“Are we going upstairs?” You couldn’t help it if you sounded a bit hopeful, and maybe a tiny bit apprehensive.

Her lips quirked in a smile. “Yup,” she agreed, one hand resting over her belly, and you couldn’t help but be a bit curious. “I’m gonna be giving you the welcome tour today.”

An elevator opened in the very back, one you hadn’t noticed before. Your eyebrows shot up your forehead and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Feels a bit like an old spy movie,” you murmured, stepping in after her.

“Here, wear this. You’ll need it to get access to the different parts of the building.” She held out a slim bracelet-thing, which you examined for a moment before you slipped it on. It looked like the one she wore, but slimmer.

“Is that what yours does as well?”

She chuckled. “Mine does a bit more than that,” she admitted, even as the elevator suddenly brightened, glass between you and the rest of Nueva York. You looked out at the view with wide eyes.

“Oh wow. Do you ever get used to this?”

She paused, tipping her head a little as she followed your gaze. “I don’t have much time for sightseeing.”

You hummed, turning back away from the glass when you heard a door open.

“Welcome to Spider Society.” She shot you a smile, amused at your reaction. Your eyes had gone very wide and you were trying to look everywhere all at once.

There were Spider-people literally everywhere. Everywhere. Upside-down on the ceiling, standing horizontally on the walls, walking ahead of you and your guide. All heights, all sizes. Pretty much all of them were in costume, so many variations on red and blue that you were nearly dizzy with it.

“Wow.” You turned in a slow circle, managing to not stumble over your own feet, overwhelmed. This space was huge and open, with criss-crossing support beams and walkways.

“This way.” She had paused to look back at you, and you hurried to catch up.

“And this is just the entry way, huh?” You grinned, sticking closer to her while still looking around.

“Uh huh.” She nodded to a couple passing Spiders. “There’s a cafeteria just up here, you’re welcome to come eat here.”

“Awesome.” You made sure to make note of the turn to get to the cafeteria, taking a quick look around. A whole variety of Spider-people, mostly with coffee and pastries at this time of the morning. Very cool.

“You don’t need to worry about most of the rest of this place.” She went down another hallway and to another elevator. “You’ll be working in the archives.”

“Physical or digital?”

“Mostly digital.” The elevator went down a few floors and she led the way into the space. This entire floor seemed to be the archives, cool air blowing across your skin. (Note to self: bring a sweater.)

“Wow.” You looked at the sheer volume of computers in the room. “I’m guessing this is for your whole… base of operations.”

“Uh huh.” She took a step back. “Lyla, say hi.”

A little glowing golden person appeared at about eye-level, coat draped dramatically over her shoulders. “Hi! I’m Lyla, the best and most important part of HQ.”

“Hi.” You blinked. “Are you an AI?”

“Mmhm! The one and only.”

“Oh wow, I’ve never actually seen an AI. Met? What even is the correct terminology?”

“Either way, just depends on how friendly you want to be.” Lyla grinned at you. “I’ll show you where to get started!”

“Thanks for the tour,” you said to the woman, turning to give her a little smile and slightly awkward wave.

“Sure thing. Name’s Jess, by the way. In case you need to find me later.” She nodded once more to you and sauntered out of the room.

“Okay. Little overwhelmed.” You turned a slow circle, taking in the room. It had that unused feeling - there was no dust, but it felt like nobody came here often.

“That’s pretty normal,” Lyla agreed, filing her nails. “Takes most of the Spiders a bit of time to calm down.”

“Fair.” You breathed in deep. Okay. You were here to do a job, not to freak out. “Right. What are we looking at?”

Screens popped up, dozens of them. Hundreds possibly. Your eyes went wide in despair.

“Some of it has been done,” Lyla told you, standing near your shoulder to look out at the sea of gently-glowing orange-ish screens. “But we just kinda threw it together back at the beginning, before we knew there would be this many.”

You sucked in another deep breath. Okay. Yeah, this would be a lot of work, but you could do it. “Okay. Let’s see what you’ve got so far.”

The first day was not quite a wash, but you did spend the entire time learning the original tagging system and deciding how best to move forward. This wasn’t exactly something you were trained in, but, well… You could organize things. You liked to. You even liked to keep track of data.

So it wasn’t a hardship. It wasn’t even necessarily hard. Just time consuming.

Nobody kicked you out, but you still finished up and left the room. Taking the elevator back up was a little odd, and Spider Society seemed to be even busier now. You had to do a quick side-step to avoid someone swinging past you.

“Incredible,” you murmured, taking a few moments to just look.

“It is, huh?”

You jumped a little and turned to look at the man in the pink bathrobe. “Oh! Hi again.”

“Hi.” He grinned at you, tired but happy.

“Where’s Mayday?” You motioned to the empty baby carrier.

“Hobie’s got her for a few minutes. I wanted to check in and see how your first day was.”

You shrugged. “Fine. Quiet. It’s gonna take some time to get everything updated and sorted properly, but I can do it.”

“I don’t doubt that.” He smiled at you, clapping a hand to your shoulder. “Who gave you the tour this morning?”

“Uh, Jess showed me around a little bit?”

“I bet she didn’t show you any of the fun stuff, though.”

“Define fun stuff.” You spoke a little cautiously, eyeing him.

“She definitely didn’t show you the fun stuff.” He grinned. “I’m Peter, by the way. Peter B. Parker. There are a lot of Peters around, so be aware.”

“Really?” You looked at him curiously even as he gently herded you along.

“Oh yeah. I forget what percentage it is, but it’s a high percentage of Spiders are Peter, or some derivation.”

“Interesting.” You shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll learn all about that sooner or later.”

“I bet you will.” He shot you a friendly grin before he sat you in front of a counter. “Now, you have got to try this shake. I don’t even know what’s in it, but it’s amazing.”

“Um.” You blinked at him, not quite sure where this was going. Food, apparently.

But you were admittedly distracted when you spotted your universe’s Spiderman walking through the cafeteria. His mask was off, leaving you blinking at thick dark hair. Brown-red eyes met yours across the room and you froze.

He looked away first, turning and walking in a different direction. You breathed in again.

You’d had no idea he was such a handsome jerk.

“Oh, Miguel?” Peter chuckled, patting your shoulder and jerking your attention back to him. “Don’t worry about my friend! He’s all bark and no bite.”

Somehow you doubted that.

#welcome to new york #miguel o'hara x reader #f!reader

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icu-fetish · 1 year

Text

Test subject Gloria. Part 2.

I have already seen intubation and patients connected to ventilators many times. However, for the first time in my life, I woke up intubated. For a while I couldn't even open my eyes and just listened to this quiet monotonous sound of the machine pumping air into my lungs.

When I opened my eyes, I realized that I could not feel my body at all. I see the stiff neck brace on me, the breathing tube holder on my face and the long plastic tube through which the ventilator breathes for me. But I don't feel anything at all. I realize that I can no longer move or even breathe on my own. However, this is not the only thing that scares me. I don't know how long I was unconscious.

I know why I am being kept here. In my current condition, I am completely dependent on the ventilator and other equipment. I will probably be put into a coma for a while. And while I am unconscious, experiments will be performed on my body. I can stay in a coma for weeks, months or even years.

One way or another, after waking up, I won't know how much time has passed and what the doctors have done to me. Other patients did not know this and were not concerned with similar problems. But I know a lot about these illegal experiments, and I understand that my current condition is only the beginning.

I can only lie still and watch as the nurse checks the devices and gives me injections. I did this job not so long ago. But from now on I am only material for medical research.

Looks like my condition is stable, which means that doctors will begin experiments on me soon. This fact scares me the most, because after the surgeries I will be in intensive care for a long time... Like Chloe and the other girls... Most likely, I will stay there forever, just like them.

For now, I'm trying not to panic. It's easy, because I also get injections of sedatives. But the thought that after one of the next injections I can fall asleep and find myself on the operating table does not give me peace. It seems that it will happen soon...

#intubated #breathing tube #ventilator #breathing tube holder #neck brace

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writingquestionsanswered · 8 months

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Hi, I'm trying to come up with a good friend/assistant for a Detective I'm writing. What's a good job/occupation that could help them beforehand? I don't want to do doctor/medical as that's a bit played out and wouldn't work into her story.

Occupation of Detective's Helper

First, it depends on what type of detective they are, because there are detectives, private detectives, and private investigators--and private investigators are sometimes referred to as detectives. Detectives work with a law enforcement agency, private detectives are employed by law firms, insurance companies, or corporations, but they are bound by the law like regular detectives. Private investigators, on the other hand, can be hired by anyone in the private sector and although they're bound to the law to the same degree as any other citizen, they're more likely to do things detectives can't due to being law enforcement/employed by a high profile organization.

For law enforcement detectives, any number of people within the law enforcement agency might assist them. You would need to research the specific type of law enforcement agency, see what their structure is, and find out the different people who commonly help investigate cases.

If you're going with a private detective or private investigator, although it's almost as played out as medical assistants, you could go the techie route... either the computer whiz who can "zoom and enhance" on gritty video images and triangulate last known whereabouts using cell phone pings. Or, the person who the detective goes to for the latest technical gear... the night vision goggles, the covert listening devices, and the cameras that look like random objects.

Other options for private detectives and private investigators:

-- If the they go undercover a lot, they might have someone who helps them with fake IDs, fake documents, etc.

-- Although it's in the same ballpark as the medical stuff, a scientist or other lab worker who analyzes finger prints, DNA, etc.

-- An expert in something the private detective/private investigator deals with often, like gangs/factions, the underbelly of the city, political connections, etc.

-- Someone who can pull strings in high places, like the D.A.'s assistant or the mayor's summer intern, or even a local politician.

-- Someone who can get any information about anything... they just know the right places to look/ask.

-- Someone in the media who has a lot of connections or has their finger on the pulse of the city.

-- If the detective/investigator works in a place where they're going to encounter people who speak a different language, or a lot of different languages, they might have a multilingual interpreter who can translate for them.

That's all I can think of off the top of my head, but keep an eye on the comments in case anyone else has ideas!

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sparrow-in-boots · 1 year

Text

okay so, I'm going to get to Lucy Stillman and the franchise's treatment of her, but i think I need to explain my own feelings about the portrayal of the modern brotherhood first. I do not buy the "brotherhood = conspiracy theory cult" angle. It's flawed and leads to terrible takes overall, by the lore and by the fandom.

It's a holdover from the fact that the game decides to run with conspiracy theories that we have in the real world, and assign them all to the Isu. they even poke fun of it in the earlier games with the whole lizard people and space wizards in tinfoil hats comments. now that's a whole can of worms in itself given how deeply racist and antisemitic the overwhelming majority of conspriacy theories are, but it's not a good way to portray the assassin brotherhood because that's not what they are. they are far leftists. they are anarchist cells, they are commune organizers, they are revolutionaries. that's not me saying it either, that's just canon, plain and simple.

but that would make the story too close to real-life politics and they can't do that cus it's not in their interests.

therefore, the brotherhood is coded as isolationist cultists, or at least as far as The Farm goes. in current year, i think we can all agree there's an inherent fallacy (if not outright disengenuous portrayal) of painting your leftist organization fighting against the capitalist neocolonial hegemony with the same strokes as the whacky people starting communes in the middle of nowhere to escape 5G towers, fluoride water and the [insert villanized minority group here].

i don't buy it, i don't appreciate it, and i think we could have had a stronger story without it, even regarding Desmond's backstory.

THAT SAID, let's take a look at Lucy. her's is the story of a girl who was forced into adulthood too early after being left to her own devices by a very sheltered and isolating community that failed her, and then inducted into a cult which ultimately killed her and then was promptly swept under the narrative. that cult is the templar order by the by.

Lucy was born and raised within the Brotherhood, and pretty much set lose on the world with no connectiosn to speak of. surely they must have given her a paper trail, fake parents and school enrollments, medical records, the works. she was told to infiltrate Abstergo and probably given a general path towards that, namely research that could be useful to them, but otherwise? she was on her own.

first thing that comes to mind is when Amish folks get their time away from their hometown to experience the world and choose to come back or not. i can't comment on their experience and general view on this so i won't attempt to draw a parallel here, but just that initial mental connection speaks for itself imo.

She speaks of having to wait tables to make ends meet, and while that's the socially expected experience of solo living for a young adult leaving home (work minimun wage jobs, go to college, climb the chain, start small, etc), she has no home to return to. In fact there's this looming tension that even opening up to missing her home or going into detail about it could blow her cover. Even in the privacy of being around friends and colleagues, there's this necessity of keeping up a front. She has to buy it so deeply it becomes her, inside and out, and doing that at such a formative age is bound to take it's toll.

You're removed from everything and everyone you've ever known. You don't know when or if you'll ever see them again. In fact they can die at any moment and you might never hear about it. Contact with them is a fraught and dangerous thing, and even the slightest slip could spell your doom and theirs. Connection is a constant swinging sword of Damocles over her, and who can take comfort and solace from community like that? No one, is who. So of course she'd seek that away from where she could endanger everyone.

So in comes Vidic. She knows he's a templar, of course she does, but he's kind and understanding, a bit frustrating and headstrong, but she can usually talk him into chilling out here and there. And of course, one can draw a parallel between him and Bill. Both are strict and charismatic (in their own way) father and mentor figures, but while Bill is cold and hard, Vidic feigns affection (as Haytham so eloquently put) and the worst part is, it works. Any affection and attention is good attention for the starved, and Lucy's been on the end of her ropes since she's been outside of the Brotherhood.

She knows and can see it's all manipulation, she's not that blind of course, but it chips away at her. That's what emotional manipulation does after all. And then, in come the agents to kill her, and Vidic stops them.

All her life she's heard how brutal and merciless the templars are, and surely she's seen it too while working under them, but right when her facade slips and she should be dead, she's not. Because Vidic spares her. Of course that leaves a deep impression on her, and further erodes her resolve. Slowly but surely, she opens up, and Vidic is an expert at what he does. She may hold quite a bit of guilt and shame at turning, but the templars were there when the brotherhood wasn't.

Bill says that of those they send to infiltrate the templars, they are either "too strong" and can't keep up the charade, or are "too weak" and turn. How is being a human being who needs connection and community "too weak"? How is being slowly lovebombed and manipulated into choosing the wire mother and then being foresaken the plush one when in need weakness?

Desmond says that she "seemed so sincere, like she really wanted to make a difference", and I truly believe she did. Her morals and belief were twisted through years of emotional torture and isolation, and she knew she couldn't return to the brotherhood after how far she caved under the pressure. There's no space for the nuances and endless gray areas of such an unbalanced war in the current brotherhood, and she knows it, so throwing in with the templars for her was the lesser evil. She's not fool enough to buy their propaganda wholesale, but it's a necessary concession in her mind so she can excuse her taking advantage of their attention and community. Again, as long as she's useful to them, she has a place among them.

However, the way she's treated by the narrative is... w o w. We never get the chance to hear it from her side, expect by a pathetically short email on the ACR dlc. While having the protagonists agonize over someone's beliefs after their passing and finding no solid answers, they really don't spend nearly enough time for that to carry much weight narratively. In fact, there's hardly much of a critique on the conditions that led her to that kind of fall from grace, and even less is done to fix it.

She, much like Clay, are the epitomes of how the brotherhood is mirroring too much the templar's and Juno's disregard for human life, and how that needs to change in order for them to turn the tides. But nothing comes of it, because our anchor to the modern timeline gets doomed by the narrative and now all those loose plot holes go nowhere. Her funeral, her burial, her memory, it all gets waved about like an annoying gnat on the dinner table, and nobody does anything but try their best to ignore it until it goes away. Her actress couldn't keep with their schedule, so they got rid of her in the most pathetic horrifyingly dismissive way possible.

Personally I'm not a fan of the templar turncoat plotline they gave her, but if that's what they wanted to go with, then it needed much MUCH more careful writing and it needed to fucking GO SOMEWHERE. But it doesn't. And it sucks.

#assassin's creed #lucy stillman #pardal rambles #ac meta

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tt40art · 2 years

Text

A Reminder About Protests

In the wake of the disgusting recent SCOTUS decision, in which six out-of-touch elites decided the fate of millions of Americans, now is a great time to remind everyone of some basic protest behavior.

In the coming days, you’ll likely receive many emails about this “shocking” decision. Aside from the fact that this the exact opposite of shocking, these emails are not your friends. Many of these will be fishing for donations. If you want to donate, that’s up to you, but be sure to do your research.

If You’re Going to Protest, Do…

Research protests thoroughly. Not all of these protests will be legitimate, and some may be a ploy to boost fundraising.

If an email asks for you to RSVP to a protest, do not do it! They do not need to know your name. They do not need to know you were there. We’ve already seen cops use the simple act of being at a protest as a way to take down people they dislike, so don’t give them additional ammo against you.

For folks planning on attending a protest, here are some things that you SHOULD do both before, during, and after you go:

Brush up on basic first aid practices

Cover up all identifying marks, scars, and tattoos

Encourage participants to stick together

If possible, cover your face

If possible, learn CPR

If you see something, say something! Record police injustices!

Inform other protesters of their rights

Know where you are and where you can run to if surrounded

Know your rights!

Pack one or more outfits to change into

Prepare one (or more!) basic first aid kits

Tell someone you trust where you’re going

Turn off your phone (or at least GPS data) before going

Watch out for your fellow protesters

Wear generic clothing, preferably without logos

If You’re Going to a Protest, Do Not…

In addition to knowing what you should do, there are also a few things you shouldn’t do. It’s great to know this information, but it’s not going to be effective if others are unformed.

For folks planning on attending a protest, DO NOT do the following things:

NEVER post unaltered photos of other protesters

NEVER sign your name or RSVP to a protest

NEVER speak to law enforcement without legal counsel

NEVER use unsecured channels for planning

Abandon another protester

Antagonize police dogs or horses, because they will mess you up

Astroturf by traveling great distances (few locations need your help that much)

Demand the protest go a certain way

Leave another protester behind or alone

Leave any internet-connected devices on

Speak to cops

Take photos or videos of fellow protesters (if you must, remove all GPS data and blur out faces)

Wear anything extremely unique

Wear contacts, as they can cause harm if you’re tear gassed

If You Want to Support Change…

Finally, there are plenty of people who want to protest but cannot.

That’s okay! Everyone can make a difference, and change happens when we work together. If you’re not able to protest but still want to help, here are some thing that you should consider:

DO encourage others to remove unaltered photos of protesters

DO give your friends attending protests medical supplies, water, and food if you can

DO inform friends and family of their legal rights

DO make sure that everyone you know is aware of their rights

DO NOT speak to cops about protesters

In fact, DO NOT speak to cops about anything without legal counsel

DO spread edited photo and video of police abuse

DO NOT spread unverified information

DO thoroughly research a charity before donating

DO NOT trust random businesses to “donate” to the cause

When millions of people’s rights are being systematically destroyed by six oligarchs, pearl clutching is useless. Leaders who do not respond to kindness will not respond to wishy-washy protests. If you are uncomfortable with the direction a protest is going, then it’s your job to leave. It is not your job to “make it safe” or (even worse) “family-friendly” by telling others what to do.

Be safe, be wise, and resist.

#us politics #my writing #roe versus wade #roe v wade #abortion rights #activism #long post

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darkdevasofdestruction · 1 year

Text

Zayka Moya ~ Sergei Dragunov x Reader

Happy birthday to me~

Summary: A genius prodigy in the medical and hacking field is sent by the Government to work on a project in Russia. Eventually, her superiors from this new country assign a small team to infiltrate another enemy base for a mission. That team is formed by Y/N, the brains, Mikail, a Russian researcher sent to monitor and help, and Sergei Dragunov, their guardian.

Being a prodigy in the fields of medicine was a welcoming experience, as you would be met with laurels and fame everywhere you waltzed the earth, being praised as the most accomplished doctor, and at the tender age of 14. It was thanks to her parents, who were both highly respected medics who brought her into this world in the hospital, and raised her there. In fact, the surgery room and the lab one alike were more her home than her own beautiful and cozy job.

But like any genius, she was bound to experience extreme misfortune. One has to pay for the gift they were presented with the first cry you let out into the world - And that is when Y/N first wept out of sorrow - Her mother passed away from a disease, and her father followed soon after, from heartbreak. What was a child like her supposed to do, with no other family to support her?

Without her loving guardians to protect her, she was shunned by the whole medical community, who in truth, were the human representation of a venomous snake pit, ready to prey on their next meal. A small, innocent child, thrown, all alone, in this confusing, cruel world.

With no idea what else to do in life to survive, Y/N took up hacking as a hobby turned full-time job, and thus, she was able to hack into the Government database, where she found a ton of different experimenting files in progress. Jackpot, she thought, as she downloaded everything into her own computer and started working on the problems the other scientists were experiencing. This was a gamble, life or death - But she had nothing in life to lose, except her existence - Yet what is the meaning of life, without a purpose?

Y/N L/N, age 16, strutted inside the Government and with a fake ID, she was brought to the Military General Surgeon who was conducting these experiments, one more illicit than the other - And she threw the files on his desk, a confident smirk on her face, ever-growing, watching as the man’s eyes widened significantly, being faced with the Eureka of the content she brought.

She was hired as the leader of the underground medical experimentation projects, and here she was taught how to properly link her computer and medical knowledge, into a single, broad spectrum of applied skills. Y/N was now the most important asset of her country.

Years passed, and her thirst for knowledge was like a bottomless well. The more time flew by, the more she learnt, and learnt, and practiced and experimented - Until the time came that she was assigned on a special operation abroad, in Russia, the country that was the strongest ally to your own. She was safely escorted to their base, where she met with the general and introduced to the team and the revolutionary practices of their labs. The technology was something she’s never even imagined before, and forgetting all about her need of food or sleep, she threw her lab coat on and began playing around with the devices.

Her team of three was going on a field mission to infiltrate in an enemy base, steal and delete all their research. Though Y/N has never tried anything as risky as getting her own hide in danger, it mattered little. She was the only one who could do something of this magnitude. Allegedly, there is a program that, once inserted into her Tech-Pad, should form some kind of 3-D puzzle projected into the real world, and with the help of the special pen provided, she could play around and arrange the equations and anything there was, directly onto the live projection. It was akin to the fantastic technology she saw in movies - To think it would exist into the real world also - Fascinating!

“We’re unlucky. I heard our guardian is Dragunov.” Mikail, the other Russian medical expert that was going to accompany her towards the base, spoke to her. Y/N. bored, looked at the man, whose lecherous eyes scanned her up and down. Thank goodness it was a cold country and she was dressed fully - Boots, pants, fur tights underneath, turtleneck, long coat leisurely over her shoulders - All black, save for the elegant gold jewellery that highlighted her grace. “And why are we unlucky?” she asked, her hands in her her jeans pockets, looking around the room aimlessly, hoping the time would pass faster. “Why, she asks - Why?! You don’t know Dragunov?” he groaned dramatically, watching the woman’s disinterest and aloof behaviour... So irritating. “Guess you wouldn’t know, being new here. Dragunov is known as the White Angel of Death. He’s ruthless, merciless - And he looks super creepy and intimidating. He’s also a mute, so it’s even worse!” “...Is he human?” she asked monotonously. “H-Huh? What’s that question? Of course he is!” the man seemed really annoyed by her, for some odd reason.

The door was then opened, and the sound of heavy boots against the marble resounded painfully loud, making the two scientists turn simultaneously and face the new comer. It was a tall man, towering over both of them. He had jet black shoulder length hair, neatly tied into a small tail, and he was wearing a military uniform. He stood straight and imposed authority, unlike even the general himself.

“Gah, told ya.” Mikail grumbled under his breath. Y/N tilted her head to the side, and comically circled their newly appointed guardian, and once she arrived back to the starting point, she shrugged her shoulders. “So... This is the man that made you cower in fear earlier?” she asked, a small smirk forming on her face. “He is as human as the both of us. He seems strong and reliable. I don’t think there is any need to complain.” she then extended her hand for the man to shake. “My name is Y/N L/N, researched, medic and hacker from Romania. You may call me whatever you like.” she said with a polite yet genuine smile - She knew she was going to enjoy his company far more than Mikail’s. “I was told you are called Dragunov. May I know your first name?” the soldier raised his hand and gave her a firm shake, though before he could give an answer, the other researcher cut him off. “That devil’s name is Sergei. Even his name is scary as the hell he crept up from.” he spat in disgust. Surprising for the special soldier, he watched the beautiful woman that was still holding his hand, turn slightly to glare at her colleague - Her was sounded threatening and mocking. “I don’t recall asking YOU that question. You complain he doesn’t speak, yet you cut him off so rudely. If I were him, I wouldn’t bother speaking in your presence either.” she huffed, shaking her head at him. “Don’t mind him. He’s taking the position of his head and neck on his shoulders for granted.” she tsk’ed, making the man grunt in amusement - The scarred side of his mouth had twisted upward. “шлюха“ Mikail scoffed under his breath. “To think that a man who prides himself with his brains is reduced to the curses and insults of a simpleton, when in lack of logical reasoning. Pitiful.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Anyways. We should get going, it is getting late. Sergei, do you know the details of our mission? I was told you and that guy would know the logistics and what not.”

As Sergei nodded affirmative, he handed Y/N a file for her to skim over, and with a hand gingerly placed on her back, he gently guided her out of the room, with Mikail complaining loudly in the back as he trailed right behind them.

The special general drove this normal looking black car - Perfect for inconspicuous missions such as this one - And Y/N sat on the front chair, fiddling around with that tech-pad of hers. Mikail was in the back, changing the radio channels between different music channels.

Still, for a whole night, they were to camp outside into the forest and move the rest of the way of foot, to avoid any suspicions arising. The car ride was long, but went smoothly, without any troubles. Sergei knew the precise point where they were to camp for the night, and helped by the girl, they put up the tent, whilst the other researcher made something for them to eat.

Not wanting to spend another second in the irritating presence of the mute soldier, Mikail went to bed early, despite it being barely early evening. The two were sitting on a cut log, waiting for the snow they put in the kettle to turn into water and boil, to then make tea and warm up. The silence between the two was serene and peaceful, even comfortable, Y/N realised. She didn’t feel the need to constantly come up with conversation ideas and develop them further.

The beautiful lullaby from the birds, and the calm sound of the breeze blowing through the leaves made absolute peace in both her mind and heart - And Sergei’s company was making things just as good.

“Hmm...?” Y/N suddenly snapped her head up in surprise. A new sound appeared out of nowhere. A melodious chirping as she’s never heard before. As if possessed, Y/N handed Sergei her tea mug and started walking in the direction of the song. Up in a tree, in a low branch, was a small, fluffy bird, cheerfully chirping away.

The medic didn’t realise she was smiling, all thanks to this beautiful little creature. Slowly, she knelt to the ground and swept some snow, revealing long, wide grass blades - She stretched one over the length of both of her thumbs, and blew into it. It was one of the little party tricks she had learnt a long time ago, whistle-playing a leaf, or a blade of grass - But the little songbird seemed to appreciate the harmonizing, so it continued singing.

Curiosity ate Sergei away, so he, too, went by her side. “Yellow-browed bunting.” he informed her of the species. “It’s the most beautiful melody I’ve ever heard. Is it native to Russia?” the man hummed affirmative. Soon after, the little bird flew over to them - And perched itself onto the man’s hat. Y/N couldn’t help but hide her mouth as she giggled at the comical sight before her. “S-So cute.” she said, watching those gargoyle-like eyes roll their eyes, yet they held no malice. “Let me save you, General.” slowly, she rose her hand up, and the little bird jumped to sit on her finger. “You are the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.” gazing fondly at the bird, Y/N used her other hand to rummage through her coat pocket, revealing the seed bread she kept for later. With some difficulty, she was able to pick off the seeds and held them onto her palm, for it to peck at its leisure.

The little bird took a few seeds then flew away, back on the branch, where it was joined by two other of its kind. Though the girl looked around, thinking of a way to get the seeds for the winged trio - Only to see a hat in front of her eyes. Turning to look at Sergei, he nodded his head for her to use the hat and put the seeds in them. “Thank you.” she smiled sweetly at him as she quickly put the seeds and some bits of bread in it. “I’ll climb the tree. Can you hand it to me once I’m on the branch?” Sergei nodded, widening her smile.

Y/N took off her coat and let it fall on the fluffy snow then rushed towards the large tree and jumped, one foot stomped on the bark which allowed her to reach the lowest branch and climbed up. With a sigh of relief, she looked up at the little birds standing above her and chirping. Getting a good grip on her branch, she leaned back to hang upside down and take the hat from Sergei, and got very comfortable, resting back on the tree. The three birds perked on her legs and pecked away at the food.

Sergei analysed Y/N’s actions this whole time, and he was almost intrigued - For someone so laid-back and calm, almost rigid like himself, she had some vicious ruthless sides, when she’d degrade whoever dared mess with her, quite like Mikail, or rather the opposite, when she’d act... Perhaps child-like? By the way she struggled to get up, it was clear she wasn’t naturally an active person, and she did mention so herself - Even so, she was able to get up there, and she seemed to have had fun. Sergei wondered how he would feel, climbing trees again. He hasn’t done that since he was a small child, training for the military - But usually, he’d do pull ups.

He could relate, to some degree, to her personality. He enjoyed her calm aura and how aloof she seemed, much like himself - And though now he found joy in missions succeeded and fighting, he likes to take some time off for himself and enjoy the little things, like reading, solving chess problems. Being in the privacy of his own home, he delights himself by singing classical Russian music - There is nothing more beautiful than his culture, Sergei is very proud of his heritage, yet at the very moment, he finds himself questioning Y/N’s. What did her country’s song sound like? Her language? What were her poems like? Or her novels? Did she have any notable composers?

“Thank you for the help, Sergei. I hope there are no more crumbs inside.” she looked adorable, handing him back the hat. Her hair was messy, and she even had a leaf tangled in it. The ghost of a smile graced his already handsome features as he took off his glove and extended his hand, not to retrieve his hat, but to fix her hair. He looked down at her, reveling in that small smile of hers, and the faint blush that painted her cheeks. “You’re a very nice person, Sergei. I don’t understand why others fear you so much.” she admitted, seeing the man take her coat and put it back on her shoulders. “You’re far nicer than any man I met before.” “I kill.” Y/N turned casually to face him, though she continued walking. “Your point being?” she snarked him. “I could snap your neck like a dove.” he was now towering menacingly over her smaller form. “Go ahead.” she provoked him. The two shared an intense eye-contact, only to end up chuckling.

Neither of the two expected the other to ply so well with their personality and enjoy each other’s company, but it was for the best. Were it only Mikail... He might not have returned home alive.

That night, Sergei was to keep watch outside, by the campfire while the two researchers were to sleep - But Mikail was snoring so loudly that Y/N couldn’t sleep, so she opted for staying outside also, and drinking some more tea. Compared to daytime, it was far colder so late into the night. Seeing her shiver, he put his arm around her smaller form, pulling her into his side. “Do you have any hobbies, Sergei?” with a small hum, the man told her about trains - Why he likes them, how many different kinds they are, the way the engine works, the types of weapons they can have built in - And so many otherwise useless trivia. Half of his words, Y/N didn’t even hear, as she leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. His was was velvety and soothing, and after drinking that hot beverage, she felt drowsy enough to even fall asleep outside, in the warm, strong arms of her Russian guardian. “One of these days, I’ll kiss that scar of yours.” she said, before falling asleep to the sound of him humming some kind of lullaby. “Zayka moya.” his lovely little bunny was so bold, yet endearing, Sergei though, holding her carefully in his arms and placing a small kiss on top of her head.

The next day they were easily able to infiltrate the enemy base, with Sergei knocking everyone out or killing them, Mikail standing as a lookout and Y/N hacking inside their database and accomplishing her mission - The longest feat was to have everything loaded into the Tech-Pad, but when it was all done, she deleted everything on the computer, before implanting a virus that would ruin their whole system. Once it was all done, Y/N signaled for the two come along.

They ran away, deep into the forest, back where they were supposed to make camp, and though some went after them, the base was still little and the few guards around had been killed by the Russian. This time, Y/N did not help with anything - Instead, she worked on the project she had to solve on her Tech-Pad. Once she activated it, miraculously, around her a large cube formed, and it was floating in a slow, circular matter. Several different numbers and letters from different alphabets were moving around from corner to corner at specific time intervals. This was, by far, the most confusing thing she’s ever seen - The best kind of challenge.

Taking her pen and putting the Pad on a stump, she walked around the cube, trying hundreds of possible combinations, yet nothing worked. It frustrated the girl to no end, that she started picking up pebbles and stones and throwing them into trees to let out the pent up anger.

“What is it, pretty girl? That smart brain of yours can’t figure this out?” Mikail snarked mockingly at her. “If you can, by all means, go ahead, genius. Otherwise, at this point, I don’t even know why you were tasked on this team, considering you brought... Nothing. You did... Nothing. You are pretty much useless here, yet you dare attempt to piss me off when I’m trying to focus.” Y/N rolled her eyes, turning back to the puzzle with a different outlook on the puzzle. “I don’t know, Princess, it’s not like I’m known as the Prodigy here. Self-proclaimed genius - Whatever?” Sergei turned around to take a look at the two quarreling researchers. Mikail was mean-spirited from the beginning, yet he seemed far more hostile now. Dragunov had to keep his guard up at all times. “If you’re up for a fight, then go away, I’m trying to think.” Y/N comically took some snow and rubbed it on her face, hoping the cold would numb away the raging fire that was giving her a headache.

As Mikail stepped away, Sergei moved over - He listened to the scrambled mumbles of a genius. For the most part, they made no sense. Just random words thrown about, without link between one another. He wanted to give up - But he heard her speaking of the single Cyrillic letter that was flying around the cube. She was misunderstanding its meaning, it was no wonder she was missing a vital part of the puzzle. Once he rectified her mistake, Y/N seemed to have an evident eureka moment, and taking the pen, she drew around the cube, moving around the numbers and letters, until from green, the project turned light blue, and it glowed. “I’M THE SMARTEST GIRL ALIVE, FUCK YEAH!” she screamed into the skies, genuinely shocked that she was able to get this thing done, and in such a short amount of time. “Ha. Piece of cake! This was nothing! Give me the equation of life that Lex Luthor was searching for! I’m beyond even a level 12 intelligence!” though she was praising herself more as a joke, Sergei looked at the 3-D solved puzzle, awestruck. For him, nothing made sense. For her, it was like reading a nursery rhyme. Fascinating.

Before he could congratulate you, however, blackness flashed before his eyes, and he fell to the ground with a loud thud. “Sergei?” he could hear her calling out his name in worry, his body couldn’t respond the way his brain was. His head was throbbing in pain and he was sure he was bleeding. “Mikail, what the hell are you doing?!” she sneered at him, though it was in vain. Once Dragunov was able to blink away the blurriness and attempt to get up, he became the witness of a poor attempt at a fight. As he struggled to get up, he saw that Mikail had betrayed them - He was trying to get his hands on Y/N’s Tech-Pad, but she wasn’t letting go. As he was threatening her with a knife, the soldier tried to run and save her, but the traitor had allies, all with fire arms. Nice challenge, Dragunov thought, staring them down with a large, wicked smirk on his face as he rammed powerfully into them, bringing them all down, before showing them exactly why he was called the White Angel of Death.

Swiftly, he was done with them, and rush back to take care of the girl - In her attempt to defend herself, she ended up trying a fighting move, side-stepping, crouching, slapping away the weapon hand, immobilizing the joint. “Eh~? The little шлюха knows Systema. Didn’t think anyone outside of Russia knew of it.” he was taunting the girl, much smaller and younger than him. “Go kill yourself, you conceited, treacherous jerk! You deserve to get sent to Nazino Island and get eaten alive by criminals! Or - Or get thrown in the Kolyma Gulag and never see the light of the Sun again! Be cursed and tortured for life!” she spat at him, struggling with the little force she had, to keep the weapon away from her until Sergei gets to her - But she was overpowered by the man and with a punch to the gut and another jab to the face, she was thrown to the ground painfully. “The little шлюха thinks she knows Russian history, how adorable.” he mocked the girl, watching her cough scarlet blood on the pure white snow on which she way laying on. Now give me that Tech-Pad. It’s not like you’d benefit from it. It’s for the Russian Gov, and you’re not Russian. You have nothing to win or lose out of it.” Mikail had his hand extended towards the girl panting for air. “пошел на хуй.” with this curse addressed to the traitor, Y/N got kicked in the stomach.

With the silent prowl of a predator, Sergei made his way behind Mikail, and paid him back for the rock that he hit him with previously - And had him meet his strong fists. Over and over and over, until his face was recognisable no more. His body was twitching like that of a headless chicken, but Dragunov soon suspected he was alive no more. He was angry. Such an easy death... A traitor deserved torture to death, at least. He should have held back and bring him back to the base... But his anger got the better of him. His mistake, yet it felt satisfying to make his head turn to mush.

“Y/N. Forgive me, I was unable to save you.” the man knelt by her side, embracing her. The night is falling, the cold is rising and the tent and means of transportation had been destroyed. The nearest hotel was half a day or more, just walking continuously. It was dangerous, in the dead of night, in the forest against wild beasts, and Y/N couldn’t defend herself, in case a whole pack of wolves were to attack. He couldn’t risk it. “It’s not your fault that we got betrayed.” Y/N graciously replied. “... You’re hurt.” her expression soon turned to worry, as she reached her hand to touch the back of his head, only to feel fresh blood sticking to it. “We have to bandage it- “ her medical instinct urged her to reach to her blouse and rip its material, make strips of bandage to care for him - But he gently grabbed her hands, putting them on his face instead. “You’ve done enough. Forgive me for letting you get hurt.” Sergei spoke in a low, yet upset voice as he leant into her touch, kissing the inside of her wrist. “I didn’t think Mikail would betray us. We must spend the night outside. Tomorrow, we stay at a hotel. Then I can return you safely to the base.” “...It’s going to be a cold night.” she muttered, feeling herself being helped up as Sergei explained to her the plan, and the two went by to lean down at the base of a tree, where their tent used to be. He tried to give her his own coat, but she refused, saying that he needs to be the strong one and defend them, if they needed to. His ice-cold eyes could only stare down at her, and with no more words spoken, he pulled her flush against his chest. He raised her face up and the two shared a deep kiss. “I’ll keep you warm, Zayka moya.” he muttered against her lips - She was so beautiful, so enticing, Dragunov thought, and now, her eyes seemed star struck with wonder. What an adorable little lady. “... So, my resolution came true. I ended up kissing that very good looking scar of yours.” with a breathless smirk, she pulled him into another kiss. “If this is how you want to keep me warm, I’m game.”

The night passed by with no other attacks, and the way was spent walking, starving, thirsty and cold, to the nearest hotel. It felt like a blessing in disguise when they finally arrived. Before Dragunov could check in, Y/N stepped ahead, with a forged Russian ID, and paid for a hotel room, and eventually, for the meal herself, with a card that can’t be tracked, one use only.

It felt great, finally taking a shower, and now, laying on a comfortable, large bed - Though, there was only one, it didn’t seem to bother the girl, who ultimately stole his own shirt to sleep in, so he remained topless. His little bunny sure was mischievous.

Laying together, he needn’t call her over, for she had already lain her head on top of his chest. She was barely able to mutter a sweet dreams wish, for she was out like a light. Normal people were so fragile, Sergei thought to himself as his hand caressed her back thoughtlessly. So easy to kill. So easy to threaten, or use as bait. She couldn’t even pull off a flawlessly executed Systema move, because of her lack of strength and military experience to back up that unbothered and aloof act of hers.

His thoughts were soon interrupted by a sudden, brusk movement - Y/N was twitching in her sleep, and her breathing got heavier. Sergei called out her name, louder each time, until she woke up with a jolt, gasping and panting for air. “Zayka?” the man asked, only to startle her. The fear in her eyes, how glossy they were, the way she trembled softly - She truly looked like a bunny now. “Nightmare?” “Ah... Sergei.” once she finally grounded herself to differentiate reality from whatever she was dreaming, she was able to slowly rest back on his chest. “Sorry if I woke you up. I, uh... I thought I was tired enough not to get bothered by nightmares. I was wrong.” she muttered weakly, only to feel his hand caressing her hair. “If you wake up, I will still be here. Now rest, Zayka moya. I won’t leave.” with one last look into those beautiful eyes like flowers of the purest eyes glowing in the sun light, Y/N smiled, and leaned down to place the softest kiss, on his forehead. “And the next day? The day after?” she asked, tracing his perfectly sculpted face and jaw. “For as long as you want me.” satisfied with the answer, Y/N got herself comfortable in his arms, and returned to sleep.

Though she would eventually awaken once or twice more during the night, she would still be held in those strong arms of his, and Sergei would sing her to sleep, some old, Russian lullaby that he vaguely remembers from his long forgotten days as a child. All was going to be fine. For as long as she remains by his side, he was going to make sure she doesn’t get thrown in this mess again. She was not going to face danger ever again. The Angel of Death was going to make sure no one dares threaten his sweet, little bunny - That nobody will rob her of her smile anymore - For as long as he roams this earth.

He, Sergei Dragunov, the White Angel of Death, the most feared soldier in Russia, and even farther, was very much in love with the witty and adorable little white bunny that Y/N L/N was, and quite possibly, the most intelligent woman in the world - And if that’s not true, for him at least, it is.

#tekken #tekken x reader #tekken imagine #sergei dragunov x reader #sergei dragunov imagine #sergei dragunov

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squidpix6 · 15 hours

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Hey so you know how 23andme and Ancestry dna tests are a scam and you definitely shouldn’t do them? Well there’s a better way! Join the All of Us research program.

All of Us is a long term, ongoing research project conducted by the Mayo Clinic (in conjunction with health providers across the US) to collect health data from all walks of life in order to have medical education, tools, and practices that apply to a more diverse group of people. As you may know, medical education, while getting better, is still largely focused on best practices for white, able-bodied, thin, cisgender men and boys. The All of Us program aims to broaden the field of medicine to include all bodies.

If you participate, the results of any tests they run on you are shared with you (with your consent, you can also opt out for any results you don’t want to see). This includes questionnaires, physical exams, data from fitness devices, or DNA collection. They do a fantastic job of explaining my the process and purpose of every test to be sure you know what you’re consenting to, and they will even re-establish consent for the same tests in some cases.

I got info on my ancestry, genetic health risks, and I got a free physical exam out of it! None of this can be used for diagnostic purposes of course, due to being used for research, but still. I highly recommend joining! It’s really easy and you only contribute what you want to.

#all of us research program #signal boost #medicine #I dunno what to tag this #I’m not like sponsored or anything #it’s just been on my mind and I think it’s really cool

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muzzlemouths · 1 year

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Sun/Moon in a wheelchair? badass y/n on crutches? light as eldritch horror? I’m holding a microphone at u and asking for details/rambles on Astra AU because I’m vibrating at outrageous speed - @clxckwork-sun-n-moon

SO ABOUT ASTRA AU....

You've triggered my trap HAHAHAHA. this au is my trump card. my secret weapon. my ace in the hole. I've been building it from the ground up for months while keeping it mostly under wraps because I have no intention to post anything until I've at least caught up more with my current AUs. But you're here and you're asking and I am a glutton for self indulgence so TAKE A SEAT, this is gonna be long.

Astra Au (only a working title) is a story taking place in the not-so-distant future. It starts off canon compliant, with Fazco initially launching as a restaurant that features animatronics. This investment soon puts the company in the big leagues of machinery and robotics, and as any good economically savvy company does, they use this newfound reputation to push the boundaries even further. Animatronics become old news. Children's entertainment is out, high tech personal equipment is in. Phones, computers, security systems… weapons. Think tony stark if his business was rooted in furry propaganda.

By the pass of the second decade, Fazco is a leading name in the industry and working closely with both police and military. They've got a hand in everybody's pockets and a finger on your information, personal or otherwise. Nefarious acts from their devices (phishing, data mining, identity collecting, etc) are swept under the rug. After all, why would the government put a stop to their largest source of efficient weaponry?

It's around here that the company realizes they're dominating every department of apparatus but one; medical. An easy fix! They begin development of equipment immediately. Monitors, pacemakers, receivers, wheelchairs, etc. Most importantly, prosthetics. I don't have to explain to you why this is bad, right?

But their prosthetics aren't bad. In fact, they're very, very good, and Fazco charges up the nose for them. They're top of the line devices, however, so naturally the company gets away with it — especially when the government makes the jarring decision to make their devices law. You can keep your old devices, but if they break or need repairs you're shit out of luck, cause it's Fazco or Nothing.

As it happens, you're one of the developers hired for this project. Head the of research and production team, in fact. With a background in the medical field and several degrees in the field of technology, you're top of the food chain around here, and as such you're given a front row seat to the ensuing tragedies.

You're company loyal. They've kept your pockets full and your head big for years now, and aside from a few nefarious secrets between coworkers you've been given no reason not to trust them or their word.

That is, until the accident.

A direct result of the company's negligence, this event changes your life forever. Your new injuries mean you'll be using mobility devices for the rest of your life, not to mention intensive therapy for coordination. It takes you out of a job immediately.

Fazco covers your medical bills without hesitance. A number of paid days off, too, despite already knowing your former position is out of the question. It's a nice bribe to keep your mouth shut and your loyalty high. Little do they know that distrust has already begun to take root.

A close friend of yours calls you up soon after, requesting your help with a secret project — one that will force the company to answer for their crimes. Not a hanging by any means, but enough to throw some dirt on their reputation. A place to start. Though hesitant, you eventually agree to help.

A poor decision, really. Fazco catches wind of the operation and stomps it out before the match has a chance of becoming flame. It's a horribly traumatic ordeal to begin with, made all the worse when your friend winds up missing, never to be seen again, and it suddenly becomes apparent that their blood is on your hands.

After all, it was the tracking device in your own head that lead the company right to them. A real shame they implanted something like that amid your surgery!

This moment is the last straw. You cut all ties with the company, have the chip removed underground with the money you've saved, and disappear from society entirely.

A year passes. Your whereabouts are compromised by someone claiming to be a member of AISNO CORPS(E) — the same group of which your ill fated friend spearheaded, a group dedicated to eradicating Fazco's iron grip — and they need your help.

Though it takes some convincing, you do eventually agree. You've been stewing in guilt and vendetta for some time now. You promise to help on the condition that your part is kept in the shadows, and a deal is struck. Too bad that only lasts for so long.

A few months in and you're practically leading the entire organization. Despite never claiming the title, your every decision is trusted and relied on.

You've made a name for yourself under the table in the art of mechanics; that is, the repair and creation of devices — prosthetics, mainly — that Fazco has no part in. No chips, no gimmicks, just aids as they need to be and for a price everyone can afford, considering most of them are coming out of your own pocket. You're a big name underground. Unfortunately, that means the company is always hot on your tail, and you're quickly running low on both resources and time. If something doesn't change soon it could spell the end of your organization.

Still with me? Good!

That's only the prelude.

The real story begins when you send out the first order to look for equipment — parts, pieces, even scraps — anything. You're desperate and willing to work with what you've got in order to keep churning out your own devices.

An AISNO member returns in the evening with a whole crate of loot claiming to be from Fazco's own decommissioned entertainment beings. You know, the ones that are two decades old, broken, burnt down, and long since abandoned?

You're incredibly hesitant to accept the crate despite your desperation, as any pieces from Fazco have a high chance of being rigged and tracked, but you're assured that this shit is OLD and most of it long since broken, anyway. You can search it for anything with a semblance of battery and safely trash the rest. With this in mind, there's few reasons to refuse.

Inside that crate is the DCA.

BUT we're in First Chapter territory now, so my lips are zipped past this point. You'll just have to trust me on this and wait it out 😊

#Aster au #there's SOOOOOO much more but I'd be spoiling it if I kept talking #and this post is already so. so long #what I will say is that this au takes a perfectly good-natured DCA and gives them a gun #among other things #did you know sunrays spinning fast enough can act as a sawblade?#did you know roof hopping is a viable sport with crutches built to propel?#did you know this au makes me go fucking insane????#anyway. thank you for asking!!#felt nice to get this out of my system even if its not going anywhere for a while lol #long post

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gavalaa · 1 year

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My doc ock designs for my little spidersona universe (takes place in the same universe as my Batman and dr strange universes, for fun Ofc)

A little more info about him under the cut!! (TW for mentions of experimentation, abuse, intrusive thoughts/mental health and duress)

Ok so, Dr. Simon Octavius. I based his outfit design off of Alfred Molina’s Doc Ock the most, but I also took inspiration from a few other designs in comics, and from my own universes’ Spider-Man and such.

Here’s his deal: he isn’t a doctor. Not like, a scientist doctor or a medical doctor, but he does have a doctorate. He’s got a doctorate in business and a masters in finance & accounting.

How did he end up being doc ock then?? What?

He was the tax preparer and accountant for a large share in the Osborn-Wilkins Industry. Works for a very expensive and very lucrative accounting firm and is employed through them to represent a very particular branch of the OWI; the Biomedical // Biological Engineering department. He handled all of their paperwork and fundings through their accounts and investments, and was very good at his job.

That is, until he noticed money going missing. Now, usually a sleazy white collar accountant might be willing to overlook certain things, especially in an economy and society with superheroes and villains, but he didn’t. He asked questions, and ended up finding out exactly where the rabbit hole led when he trailed the money that was missing to a large-scale embezzlement operation that a lead developer and researcher had been involved in, the same secret program that was developing the radioactive spider that bit Dorian— was also dabbling in telepathic user-controlled bio-weaponry. When he found this out he attempted to report them for this— only for the program to find out and silence him before he could.

Doc Ock is the result of a seriously flawed “study” they did on their newest “voluntary” test subject: and one and only Simon D. Octavius was implanted with a neural device which used his brainwaves to pilot 4 mechanical arms. The shock his body underwent caused a great deal of issue which lead to the use of radioactive material to further along the process and mutate his genetics to better fit the machinery, causing him to become a mutant much like Dorian (Spider-Man).

At first he had full control, however the mental and physical stress from the abuse and torment he went through under duress from the project and scientists he once worked for caused the system to collapse in on itself a number of times. Before long, it began acting out on the intrusive thoughts Octavius had begun developing, coupled with the AI learning cycle it had been programmed with, leading it to develop its own mind; one that was highly violent, dangerous and volatile. He could not stop them now, and was often at their beck and call, trapped in a cycle of violence.

The arms end up breaking him out quite violently, and the mutations of his body cause him to secrete a venom with similar potency to many octopus venoms, designed to paralyse and trap their victims. He is at the will and mercy of these arms, often half-sedated himself as the arms work.

In many ways, he is a direct parallel to Spider-Man. Since they both have mutations from the same lab-grown psychos, some of their abilities are similar, including the venom which they both utilise (albeit Dorian’s is different in function) The difference being Dorian was able to maintain and control the mutations within himself whereas Simon is battling a machine which reads his mind and acts in a sporadic and unpredictable way.

Eventually, a long-standing rivalry between Spider-Man and doc ock ends when Spider-Man discovers his anti-venom ability is highly effective against the mutations provided by the scientists to Simon, causing a shift and disruption in the compatibility of the arms and his body. While it cannot cure him completely, Dorian was able to flush out his systems entirely with an anti-venom concoction made from simons venom (a skill which he had honed while making his own anti venom to combat his own venom) and by pumping it through his system effectively shut down and paused the arms system entirely, allowing Dorian, a scientist with experience in systems and programming, to dismantle the AI and relinquish control back to Simon completely. With a little work, they were able to take the arms off entirely, leaving only minimal damage and permanent fixtures to his body, while still allowing him to don the arms and become doc ock willingly now; something he utilises for good, as Spider-Man’s right hand and man in the chair.

Spider-Man and doc ock have a very uncle/nephew or father/son style relationship and they’re very dear to me anyways yeah

#gavaladraws #digital art #gavala #doc ock #doctor octavius #Spider-Man #spiderman #marvel #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman into the spiderverse

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fireskarr · 9 months

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Asura Appreciation Week - Day 3

DAY THREE - AUGUST 22nd Does your OC have a krewe? What do they specialize in? How do they get along with each other? @asura-appreciation-corner

A bit late with this one because y'know, new expansion launch and all. And I'm dumb and didn't prepare any of these posts in advance

The story of Tenakk's little band of misfits is going to be a bit of a long post.

So I'll start with the first three:

Tenakk Aside from the krewes he was a part of during college, Tenakk never really had a krewe of his own for a while. He was content to work alone most of the time, which was part of the reason he ended up joining the Durmand Priory later on. Aside from his research into destroyers, he was also a really talented artificer, which he used to earn a little extra income.

Milo Milo was raised by humans, and so his mannerisms and world view is quite different from the average asura. His first visit to Rata Sum didn't go so well, and he struggled to understand and fit into asuran society. This is where he met Tenakk for the first time, and they became good friends. What Milo lacks in fighting ability, he more than makes up for it with his talents in healing magic and crafting medicines. He is very sociable, and has many contacts from the medical work he carried out around Divinity's Reach. If Tenakk ever needs a particular item or information, Milo probably knows someone who can provide it.

Sparxxi A typical Dynamics student; she likes tinkering with machines, and creating gadgets to tinker with more machines. She used to be part of a krewe in Lion's Arch, creating festival decorations and organising fireworks displays. When Scarlet's attack on the city destroyed everything she knew, she was left sitting around in one of the refugee camps with no home or friends. She noticed Milo and Tenakk helping out some of the refugees, and she pretty much latched onto them, refusing to go until they gave her a job. Tenakk eventually relented and offered her a job as an assistant.

For a short time, the three of them worked together in Tenakk's workshop/makeshift lab. They didn't consider themselves an official krewe at the time, it was pretty much 'Tenakk and Friends' doing odd jobs and projects.

And then Sparxxi heard about the Pact forces mustering in the Silverwastes, preparing to go to war against an Elder Dragon. She really wanted to get a closer look at the airships, and ended up sneaking aboard one of them. Just before the fleet set off into Maguuma to fight Mordremoth. Oops.

About two years later, Tenakk recieved a letter from her which essentially read: "Hey I found these awesome Mists researchers, you should come join us! Also, I'm alive!"

Which leads us on to the next three:

Tenkatt One of Tenakk's best kept secrets is his failed experiment with the Infinity Ball; a device intended to show a glimpse of a possible future. But unbeknownst to him it did kind of work, and an alternate future version of himself materialised. But unlike the in-game story character of 'Grand High Sovereign', this alternate Tenakk has no desire to conquer the world, he just wants it to not fall into Void as a result of killing Elder Dragons. So it's safe to say he's not a fan of the Commander.

He stayed out of sight for a while, and joined up with the Aetherblades to poke around with their Mist portal technology. He had no interest in working for Scarlet, so when the 'Blades ended up trapped in the Mists after Scarlet's death, he took the first opportunity he could to steal one of their airships and escape the Mists long before the others figured out how to do it (he's done this before). Problem is, the portal he opened up just happened to lead right into the middle of the battle between Pact forces and the Mouth of Mordremoth in the jungle.

Here he crossed paths with Sparxxi, and her reaction was basically: "Wow, Tenakk has a twin brother!" She offered to fix up his airship and persuaded him not to go after the Commander. Many of the events he had witnessed were different from the ones he knew from his alternate reality, so he decided to stick around to see how things play out.

He and Tenakk often bicker about the best course of action, and he still doesn't agree they should be helping the Commander. The one thing they seem to agree on is that cats are great. And if anyone asks: they really are brothers.

Trellia Not actually an asura, but an inquisitive Mist creature that Tenkatt encountered while stuck in the Mists (if you're a GW1 fan, basically like Razah). Technically genderless, but has chosen to take the form of a female asura in an attempt to blend in. Trellia is a skilled Chronomancer, and also seems to have the ability to detect and manipulate some Mists-related anomalies without the need for technology.

Mellu (The hat isn't canon, it's just the best screenshot I have right now) Mellu is a seasoned Mist Warrior who seems to have lost all memory of her life outside the Mists. She often ventures out into the Mist War and returns with a variety of resources ranging from useful materials to odd/bizarre trinkets.

Special mention: Fluffy

Fluffy was adopted as an adorable griffon chick under threat by Icebrood monsters in the Shiverpeaks. He allows the krewe to go places where an airship would draw too much attention (or can't reach). He likes griffon races, fish, and Aurene.

**---The Moebius Krewe---**

(sometimes I call them the Infinity Krewe because I still can't decide)

Officially formed in 1331AE to track and deal with the rifts left by Kralkatorrik's rampage through the Mists, although they had been tracking other anomalies prior to that event. They often collaborate with the Commander to collect data and send help to citizens affected by creatures which have escaped from the Mists. I guess you could call them a first response & rescue team specialising in Mists-related events and disasters, though they often take on side-projects in general Mists research.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #asuraappreciationweek #tenakk #pacifist milo #sparxxi #tenkatt #trellia #mellu #fluffy #my characters

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dahyeltal · 1 year

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Thinking about Leonard and Joss letting little Jo pick her very first pet. They told her that she needed to do all the research and convince them that she could take care of it, whatever it was. She did a damn fine job and answered all their questions with facts and figures. Unfortunately, Leonard and Joss forgot to ask two important questions: how big does this thing get and how long does it live?

Little Jo, turning ten, picked out the tiniest tortoise of the bunch. She was excited to bring him home and give him loads of love and attention. Leonard was grateful she chose a long-lived pet, having known the deep loss of his first pet, Cuddles the cat. Joss took a while to warm up to the little guy but loved having someone to eat her melon rinds. Mister Torty didn’t bark or scratch things, and the most he’d done was accidentally bite their fingers when they were careless while feeding. Overall, he was a surprisingly welcome addition that showed them how responsible their baby girl was.

Over the years, over the decades, little Mister Torty became not so little. When he got too big to live in the house, Leonard, Uncle Jim, and Clay fixed up a section of the yard to house him. Aunty Ny helped Jo build a small dictionary that she and Mister Torty used to communicate through colored buttons that say a word when pressed. Uncle Hikaru and Ben helped Jo plant a garden full of Mister Torty’s favorite fruits and veggies. Uncle Scotty engineered a hover device specifically for when Mister Torty gets too ornery to return from their walks.

But the biggest job of all was for Mister Spock, and Jo only asked him after he and her daddy got married. She was scared at first, but she was nearly an adult and knew how much longer her friend would live compared to her. Jo also knew how much longer Spock would live compared to her and her daddy. It wasn’t the most pleasant topic, but Jo did promise her parents that she would care for Mister Torty for the rest of his life, not hers.

The next shore leave after their wedding, when they were visiting her momma’s place, Jo pulled Spock aside for a walk around Mister Torty’s enclosure. “Did you know that Mister Torty will live to be between 150 and 175 yeas old?” she started quietly.

“With your dutiful care, he may very well live beyond that.”

“I... won’t.”

Spock put a hand on Joanna’s shoulder and guided her to the picnic bench. Mister Torty saw this and came bounding as fast as a tortoise could, knowing that was where he was usually spoiled with love and treats. “What is on your mind, Joanna?”

“Will you take care of Mister Torty for me when I can’t anymore?” Jo popped the lid on the fruits and veggie scraps and started feeding the tortoise. “You don’t have to or anythin’, but I don’t have kids, and I’m not sure I want ‘em. I want to make sure he’s taken care of no matter what happens.”

“It would be my greatest honor to care for Mister Tort-ty,” Spock assured, still struggling with the childish name. “Though with your father’s efforts, your future efforts, and the general stubbornness of McCoys, I foresee both of you reaching ages that will rival even tortoises.”

Jo laughed and agreed, and later that evening they made up a special will that assigning Spock as Mister Torty’s primary caretaker if she’s ever unable to care for him. Joss and Clay would take care of him while she went off to medical school and then Starfleet Academy, though. Knowing that Mister Torty’s future was guaranteed, Jo could venture out into adulthood and her career with ease. And when she became a commissioned officer and joined the Hope with her daddy and Spock, they let her bring Mister Torty with them.

(Sorry, I made it sad after this.)

Nearly a century and a half later, Spock found himself on New Vulcan with his tortoise companion. His bondmate had long since passed peacefully, as did Joanna. He did not expect to inherit the lifespan of a Vulcan, especially considering his counterpart’s shorter life. Spock did not want it, but Leonard’s last wish was for Spock to live as long as he could and to look after Joanna. Joanna made the same wish, though it was now Mister Torty he was to look after.

Spock was never more grateful for agreeing to take care of Mister Torty, for he was a companion that loved Leonard and Joanna as he did and enjoyed sharing those memories. Spock smiled at the memory that started it all: Leonard making a foolish bet that Mister Torty did not have a memory as good as a human’s and Joanna begging Spock to perform a mind meld. Leonard lost, of course. But Spock won more than fake credits that day.

Though both had slowed with age, they maintained a daily walking routine around the estate and ate their meals in the tortoise-friendly garden Spock and Leonard had constructed ages ago with the help of their friends. It was a peaceful living for both of them and suited their needs as much as anything could when the loves of their life had returned to the universe. At the end of each night, they would share a meld and tell each other a story. Spock was fond of the routine, it gave him some form of purpose.

And when it was their time to return to the universe, they passed together, watching the red skies fade to blue as the sun set for them one last time.

#ficlet #Joanna McCoy #Leonard McCoy #S'chn T'gai Spock #First Pet #Jo is a weird kid and I love her #Background Spones #I made it sad at the end sorry #I tell you when I make it sad so you can skip it

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