Tumgik
#top ten of my posts that could have been made by an alien
parkerthejester · 5 months
Text
Yeah I like roleplay in the bedroom. thats when you put on like a big hat and say “verily” and shit right
2 notes · View notes
dandylovesturtles · 9 months
Text
Top Ten Posts of 2023
I decided, why not? ^^
I'm limiting this to fics/analysis/headcanon/etc posts I made during the year and skipping over anything that isn't my actual creative work. That said, if you're curious, my actual top post was this funky screenshot from episode 2.
10. Everyone's just fine with Donnie modding the moon buggy? (362 notes)
It occurred to me that despite being MASSIVE nerds for the Jupiter Jim franchise, the bros seemed awfully chill with Donnie taking an actual on-set moon buggy and modding the hell out of it.
A few people argued with me in the notes that the Turtle Tank is so cool no one could possibly be mad about it and I do think that's fair. The Turtle Tank is easily my favorite thing Donnie made in the show.
9. Splinter and Leo talk post movie (443 notes)
And then his dad walks in and says, “I would like to talk to Blue, please. Alone.” And suddenly Leo doesn’t feel so good anymore.
This is the most recent tumblr fic I've done (I think lol), so seeing it make it this high felt pretty good. I love Splinter and his boys... they make me emotional.
8. A headcanon about the Disaster Twins (445 notes)
I have a headcanon that the twins are lowkey always trying to get each other to laugh.
This is still true.
7. A showcase of Donnie's injuries in End Game (462 notes)
So everyone talks about Donnie getting his shell shredded by the Shredder in Many Unhappy Returns but I feel like it’s underappreciated that that happened to him coming off of getting his ass beat in End Game like
One of the first posts I made when I made this blog haha. Poor Donnie |'D
6. Donnie records everything (617 notes)
broke: Donnie listening to what happened in the prison dimension woke: Donnie showing Raph Leo’s big damn hero speech since he wasn’t there the first time
The main reason why this has so many notes is because @roseverdict wrote a great fic down in the notes that you should all go read.
5. Leo asks Donnie a favor (829 notes)
“You might as well tell me what you need,” he says, turning to his computer and pulling up his list. “I’ll assess it and prioritize.” “No, no, that’s okay. It’s nothing,” Leo insists. “Nardo.” Donnie levels his best stare at him. “What is it?”
I love writing the Disaster Twins being soft and you guys love it when I write it too.
4. Present Donnie and Future Donnie have a little disagreement (CAS AU fic) (1,242 notes)
“What was I supposed to do, tie him to a chair?” “Yes!?” says Mini-him like he’s stupid, which warrants a scoff.
Shoutout to @skcirthinq who doodled a comic version of their conversation.
3. Casey Jr. and Uncle Tello troll Present Donnie (CAS AU fic) (1,701 notes)
Casey Jr, says Uncle Tello’s voice. Uncle Tello? Do you want to see something really funny?
This is my actual fic with the most notes! I'm glad you all enjoyed this silly little take on what was actually an incredibly intense moment in Cass's original comic.
2. Mikey contacts the Hamato ancestors (2,054 notes)
future Mikey: *trying to contact the spirits of the Hamato for advice and guidance in the apocalypse* Donnie’s spirit: Hello, you are now communing with Donatello.
I can't believe you guys gave over 2K notes to the stupidest joke I've ever made. Shoutout to @nonymous06 for this artist's rendition.
and finally, drum roll please.....
My top post of 2023:
1. A very silly idea for a separated AU (4,283 notes)
non-angsty ROTTMNT separated AU where the boys meet online and bond over their shared love of Jupiter Jim and skateboarding and Lou Jitsu. Then one day they agree to meet irl for the first time at a con and decide to dress as turtle aliens.
This post spawned an adorable fanart by @thatsmutbean , this hilarious fanart by @onionninjasstuff , and an entire fanfic called new phone who dis by @rbtlvr
This has been an incredible year! My love for ROTTMNT has not diminished in the slightest and I still have lots of ideas, so I hope you guys stick with me for 2024. Thanks again! Happy New Year!!
Tumblr media
86 notes · View notes
virusinfected-memes · 2 years
Text
TUMBLR TEXT POST SENTENCE STARTERS, PT. 2 ;
75 starters. CW: blood mention, cussing, death. Starters come from various text posts floating around Tumblr. The only thing changed for this post was adding capitalization and punctuation. Feel free to change words and pronouns as needed! [PART 1]
“Academia is cool and sexy until I’m expected to work.”
“An anime with more than a hundred episodes is a bigger commitment than marriage.”
“Anyone who believes all water tastes the same is no acquaintance of mine.”
“Anyway, that’s every reported eyewitness account of Mothman through ‘68, and that’s just in West Virginia! Haha, but enough about me. Let’s hear about your top five cryptids!”
“Aside from being the worst person alive, I am literally perfect.”
“At the end of the day, I’m just a girl who loves her bed.”
“Being equally obsessed with each other sounds hot to me.”
“Being good doesn’t get you anything.”
“Be the worst you can be.”
“But do aliens believe in me?”
“Don’t let anyone dehumanize you. Dehumanize yourself. Be the creeping eldritch horror you’ve always longed to be. Rain furious vengeance down upon those who would unmake you.”
“Do something today that would’ve gotten you burnt at the stake four hundred years ago.”
“Do you ever just want someone to come over and sit on the floor with you for a few hours?”
“Do you ever wanna listen to music, but every song is just not the right song?
“Feeling safe around someone’s energy is a different kind of intimacy.”
“Flirting is childish. We’re grown. Just tell the person you like that you see God in their eyes.”
“Friendly reminder that the age of technology is coming to an end and a new age of blood magic and dark rituals will take its place.”
“Friendship is temporary. Blood pacts are forever.”
“Girls don’t want boys. Girls want to live in a Victorian estate and be the most feared widow in the village.”
“Half of me is a hopeless romantic and the other half of me is, well, an asshole.”
“Having a body causes me so much agony. I wish I was just a floating entity with no physical form.”
“How do I overthink so much and still make the wrong decision?”
““I can fix him!” You can’t even fix your sleep schedule, bestie.”
“I don’t care if your body is a temple. Call me when it’s been closed down and taken over by Spirit Halloween.”
“I don’t know about soulmates, but those people who eat parts of the food or candy that you don’t like and you do the same for them... We’ve lived a hundred lifetimes together, probably.”
“I don’t think we can romanticize our way out of this one, boys.”
“If you see me in the streets, just know that my mind is in the void. I’m physically alive, but mentally checked out.”
“I guess we all learned a valuable lesson. Except for me. I wasn’t paying attention and was asleep for most of the time.”
“I hate when people ask what I would do in their situation because nine times out of ten, I would literally never be in that situation in the first place.”
“I hope manners is the next cool trend.”
“I just love sleep so much. Like, you just close your eyes and you’re gone, bitch. Brain logged the fuck off. Powerful.”
“I just realized there’s, like, a hundred new Pokémon coming this year, give or take, and I have to decide what personal memories and details about friends to forget in order to make room for them all.”
“I like my women like I like my woods. Haunted and could kill me at any moment.”
“I like to fuck around and waste time at least six to ten hours a day, and let me tell you, that puts some pressure on your schedule. You have no idea how busy I am.”
“I love to learn. Unfortunately, my brain doesn’t like to remember.”
“I love when I ‘make a mental note’ of something. It’s gone within twenty seconds.”
“I’m not a religious person, but I do sometimes think God made you for me.”
“I’m not playing hard to get. I genuinely don’t know how to talk.”
“I’m wearing dark glasses today because I’m seeing the future, and the future is looking very bright.”
“I think it’s so neat that everyone develops their own unique handwriting even though we’re all taught to write our letters the same way. Really, it’s so cute.”
“I think making sense is optional. Sometimes I just be talking.”
“I think the meaning of life is eating good food in the company of people you love.”
“It’s because I’m pretty, that’s why I have problems.”
“It’s crazy how I’m just some person.”
"It seems you are in love with your computer.”
“It’s not rude to interrupt someone to point out a dog. It’s actually more polite because then they don’t miss out on the dog.”
“I will never elaborate because I have no idea what I just said.”
“Live, laugh, love? Nah. Languish, lament, lay down.”
“Michael Myers taught me a valuable life lesson. Don’t worry about how fast everyone around you is moving. If you’re determined, just move at your own pace and you’ll kill shit every time. Thanks, Mike.”
“Moving to the forest to eat leaves and lie in the dirt. Insurance companies can’t deny me this.”
“Okay, bored of being alone now. Ready to get married.”
“Okay, hear me out... What if—now bear with me—we held hands? Maybe even kiss a little? Hugs would be nice—”
“People keep posting ‘what’s REALLY in your food’ articles like I’m gonna stop eating whatever it’s about. Listen, death is coming. Death is coming. Pass me a hot dog.”
“People who fall asleep right away freak me out. Don’t you bitches have thoughts?”
“Really starting to understand old people these days. I love letters. Love packages. Terrified of my email inbox.”
“Someone take me out. Either in the assassination way or in the date way.”
“Sorry for being so sexy and having the best taste in literature. As if I asked for it.”
“Sorry I called you a fucking idiot. I was trying to flirt.”
“So what if I love you? Shut up.”
“The fact that I have to be in the ‘right headspace’ to do even the simplest tasks is absolutely humiliating.”
“The only difference between me and a medieval peasant is that I can make a Spotify playlist to express my feelings.”
“The only reason I haven’t gone insane is because I romanticize everything.”
“There should be a dating app where you talk to people who borrowed the same books from the library.”
“There’s something inherently holy about kitchens.”
“Tired of being a person. Would much rather be an unidentifiable and nebulous entity that lives in the woods and may or may not be an omen of misfortune to come.”
“Wanna haunt the neighborhood with me tonight?”
“Well, I used to be attracted to people, but now I’m exclusively attracted to abstract art and the concept of death.”
“What is the logic behind naps leaving you with a weird taste in your mouth? I wasn’t eating, I was sleeping. It’s the spiders, isn’t it?”
“Winnie the Pooh didn’t rock crop tops our whole childhood to watch us become unconfident about our bodies.”
“Yes, I’m dramatic! What did you expect? I read classic literature for fun.”
“You’d look prettier under six feet of dirt.”
“You don’t always need to talk. Like, it’s good to shut the fuck up sometimes. I love not talking.”
“You gotta walk into rooms like God sent you.”
“You’re beautiful, but you’re empty. No one could die for you.”
“You wanna know what’s annoying me right now? It’s me. I am annoying the goddamn shit out of myself.”
421 notes · View notes
little-pondhead · 1 year
Note
I would like to hear the lore about your deep sea mermaid and her daughter with a prosthetic tail. I would like to hear it very much.
Well, you've convinced me! Here's everything I have on her. :)
Everyone can blame @elizabethemerald for the info dump about this post.
---
Let's start with some background! The two mermaids from my last art post are one of my many (many) OCs. They belong to a version of Earth that would best be described as science fantasy, I believe. There are equal amounts of science and aliens as there are magic and fairies. The world system isn't completely thought out yet, so we can come back to that later. The point is that there's a lot of stuff shoved into this one world. To me, it's basically one giant puzzle trying to figure out where science stops and magic begins.
For the mermaids, most of them are deep-sea based. This is because, as of right now, less than ten percent of the ocean floor has been properly explored, so it makes sense that the depths of the sea are where they're hiding. In the concept notes, a large disaster happens to Earth that floods parts of the world with new resources. This disaster stirred up the creatures living on the ocean floor, causing some to evolve and grow. This is what happened to the mermaids, who were already the top predators alongside the cliché sea monsters you find in myths. If you factor in the several decades of the planet trying to stabilize and recover from the disaster, by the time [HUMANS] found mermaids, these aquatic folk of the deep are now too big to visit the surface properly.
The last bit of backstory is that there are now many different species of intelligent life living on Earth and beyond. These beings are split up into different classes, depending on what they are. Mermaids belong to the [MYTHEON] class, as they can trace their origins to human mythologies. Other classes include [BEAST FOLK], who possess both human and animal qualities but do not trace their origins to mythologies, or [ALIENS], who originate from beyond Earth's solar system.
Onto the mermaids!
I'm gonna be honest, I came up with the mother's design on the fly. She doesn't really have a name, but I like to imagine that, at some point, she has to go to the surface, and everyone meeting her is just in awe of her size and beauty. I just think it'd be neat to draw. :)
Now her DAUGHTER, oh boy. She's one of the main OCs for this story I have cooking up. Due to the mermaid's natural habitat, they have their own language, similar to whale song. However, when roughly translated into English, her name is Marina! (Creative, I know. I like very literal names.)
Marina is based on an anglerfish, one of the most well-recognized fish in the sea. She's one of many who scuttle around the Midnight Zone. Her mother is several decades old, so Marina has a lot of siblings. The angler mermaids are recognized by their distinct lure, bioluminescent glow, and monstrous mouths. (For an easier time, I made it so the mermaids could close their mouths, so I wouldn't have to draw it open all the time.) Most anglerfish have incredibly poor eyesight, so the mermaids share this trait as well.
Marina is special among her siblings because she was born with no tail. As you can imagine, this makes it incredibly difficult to survive in the ocean. Once she's a few days old, Marina is slowly acclimated to the different pressures of the surface world and taken in by an old couple who owns a fish hatchery. Marina becomes one of the first mermaids in history to have a permanent residence on the surface, and so she's subject to lots of healthcare studies as she grows up. When she reaches the appropriate size, Marina is fitted with custom prosthetics that allow her the same walking power as a human!
And even further down the line, someone makes her a prosthetic tail, which allows her to freely swim like any other mermaid.
Below is the first sketch of her new tail.
Tumblr media
You can see it's not connected all the way. My idea for her prosthetics is that she has thigh prosthetics permanently attached to her lower body, so she can switch out the lower part depending on her needs. The prosthetic attachments use the ball end of the thigh, which acts as a knee. She switches between her prosthetics depending on what she's doing, and I usually draw her with running ones on.
Her purpose in the storyline is still a little fuzzy. Marina has two jobs. She works as a hatchery technician for her adoptive parents, and in my notes, it also says she's a sidekick of the superhero kind. I don't know where the superhero bit came from, I think I was going through a phase in high school, but the point is she's a fighter and works for some kind of law enforcement. She had to be physically strong to survive on the surface, so she's buff as hell, and she's proficient in ice magic, which is especially useful in disaster situations.
Here's a few quick sketches of her designs over the years so you can see how she's evolved!
Tumblr media
I created this character in 2021 and wasn't very good with complicated designs yet. This is reflected in the sketch, which is more human than mermaid. She has fins on her arms and legs, which are real, and therefore her outfit is limited because I didn't want to cover up her fins. (Please note that in these designs, Marina wears clothes meant for fighting, not everyday wear.) At first, I tried using a light color palette to signify her lawfully neutral alignment, but it came off like I was trying to make her some sort of saint. Marina is supposed to be the tank of the party. Her ice abilities make great shields, and her huge size makes her an easy target. She doesn't need to learn fancy maneuvers if her whole job is to just sit there and take attacks head-on.
With these facts in mind, my 2022 design is much closer to what I want her to be. She's gained prosthetics here, looks sturdier, and has actual armor. The armor is made from seashells and other things taken from the ocean. To be honest, I'm scrapping this design because I don't think the armor flows together well, and I also really don't want to draw seashells over and over again. It's a cool concept, but just not for this. I might reuse the seashell armor for something else. Her staff acts as both a weapon and a guide. Due to her poor eyesight, Marina has been declared legally blind and uses her staff as a cane to move around.
As a backup, Marina is also contracted with a minor water spirit, whom she named Sally after the famous seashell tongue-twister. The water spirit acts similar to a seeing-eye dog and also provides the water she needs to create ice structures when she's fighting. (Marina does not have the ability to create ice out of nothing, and her water manipulation is very poor. Contracting a water spirit was a way to fix her weakness.)
Overall Marina is the strong, silent type. She has the unique privilege of being a person of both water and earth, which has advantages and drawbacks. While she was adopted by a pair of human parents, Marina loves to visit her mother in the depths and show off what she knows. This just got easier when she got fitted for a new tail. Marina loves the town she lives in and protects the people who have accepted her as one of their own with fierce loyalty. She doesn't speak much due to her teeth and mouth shape but has the most elegant handwriting you will ever see. She likes to eat soft things, and her favorite food is pudding. She's allergic to tuna but likes raising them. Her hair has a pink tint and floats on land like it does underwater, but no one really knows why. (It's Sally's fault.) Her childhood friend is a coconut crab she found on the beach, and her parents were too scared to tell her to put it back. Marina is very large, over 6'5", and is expected to grow much larger as time goes on. Right now, she's barely 20 years old.
Everyone knows there will be a time when she must return to the ocean, however. Someday she'll be too big to survive on land.
---
Oh lord, I think that's all for now! (If you read this far, have a cookie. That's some dedication right there.) I kinda just word-vomited up everything I had about her, and honestly, that's not much compared to other characters. Marina was supposed to be one of the side characters in whatever story managed to crawl its way out from under my bed, but now I'm obsessed with drawing her and pushing the boundaries of my character design abilities. I know there are some puzzle pieces I left hanging, but don't worry about it. At some point, I'll get off my ass and flesh out this story world properly.
42 notes · View notes
miss-mania · 1 year
Text
lol god fucking kill me I'm an alien weirdo. I posted this earlier and deleted it which I do with a lot of my posts because ??????
Tumblr media
I posted it to a discord too, since I'm trying to meet other people who share my interests and not be the total introvert I've been for the last ten years. I was explaining that these are all aspects of my identity that are distinct and yet intrinsically linked. But mostly I just made it so that I could follow it up with this one
Tumblr media
it's a joke. it's stupid. it's cringe or fucking whatever. It's a bad joke and a chart that doesn't make sense. I know. I posted it on a discord as a joke and no one got it because I'm fucking weird and I say weird shit!
I spent so long masking my behavior; being a trans woman, neurodivergent in a lot of ways. I spent so long not being me to the point where I couldn't hold it in anymore and it just came spilling out; it wasn't really a choice as much as it was necessity. Now that I'm giving up trying to hide it all and trying to just be more open I'm remembering why I was so afraid to interact with people or be myself; because it really fucking sucks to have people react to everything you say and do like you're a total weirdo. It fucking sucks to agonize over every public expression of self because you don't want people to think you're weird or cringe or just existing incorrectly in general.
And yeah I know this is over the top and I'm reading too much into other people's behavior. As you can plainly see my brain doesn't fucking work the way people want it to.
20 notes · View notes
doonarose · 1 year
Text
Right, so, Good Omens. Legit my favorite book, number one, since I was about 12 or 13 which was… some several years ago (I have tumblr Good Omens posts over ten years old! Gather round wee youngins). Loved the first season, did the book justice, love the actors, love neil, blah blah (a scattering of posts for this from four years ago). Closed circuit for me, though, no work to do, enjoyed, rewatched, enjoyed, left it be, waiting for season two (which I was reasonably convinced was an entirely bad idea, just like I’d been reasonably convinced a TV adaptation of the book was an entirely bad idea, and been happily wrong).
Second season – dunno what I was expecting – but it wasn’t that and I didn’t love it, I was a touch disappointed in it when I first finished it up, because I watched it distracted and having gotten up on the wrong side of the bed or whatever, but sometimes things take a while to settle and find their place in my brain.
We read a book called ‘I for Isobel’ in Year 11 of high school and I hated that book my first read -ranted about how rubbish a piece of literature it was – and my very wise English teacher gently promised she’d convince me otherwise. I still remember the earth-shattering shift in teenaged perception I experienced when I realized I could learn to love a piece of art I had adamantly despised and also, that it made perfect sense that a character such as Isobel could call herself a preposition and be equal parts right and wrong (I was also, most definitely, identifying as a preposition for a while there). Same with Pride and Prejudice, I hated that smug motherfucker and Elizabeth for losing her mind and fawning over him, a different English teacher again told me to sit with it, reread it, examine the angles. Both those books are still in my top ten.
And – don’t panic – at this point, of thinking and watching and thinking, I am enamoured with the second season of Good Omens. Different to season 1, and different to the book, but utterly gorgeous and complex, giddy and romantic and soft but infuriating. I mean, the season isn’t infuriating, in and of itself; it’s very good, except that it sets up our leads to be infuriating, and it does it on purpose and that is infuriating and boy, oh boy, do I love me a ‘shit communication’ trope. Even the dumb teenage humans are bad at communication trope (see: Glee) and the dumb alien and naïve human are bad at communication trope (see: Doctor Who), but, perhaps, especially, the intensely experienced, smart, worldly dumbass angel/demon duo are bad at communication trope. I can buy into the way that season ended in about two dozen different ways, but it certainly made sense to me. Some angles paint Aziraphale as a bit of a dumbass, a bit obtuse, a bit self-centred, and some paint Crowley as the poster-boy for self-sabotaging, woe-is-me, overly-willing martyr. Nothing deal-breakingly bad about those characters, just some very well-fleshed out, obvious flaws bubbling to the top.
So anyway, who the fuck is reading this? I’m writing it despite a ridiculously busy life just at this particular moment in time, because I miss writing. My whole job is writing. Emails, protocols, research proposals, reviews, scientific articles, and I’m just fine at that but Jesus Christ that shit isn’t character or place or emotionally anchored (it is 90% utter bullshit, honestly). We still teach the bloody undergrads to write past-tense, third person, passive voice for fuck’s sakes. We do an assignment where we take marks off for any sort of connotation-laden language and I lose my mind trying to explain to colleagues that their list of connotative words from the 1980s is no longer relevant. That six students choosing to call a particularly clingy amoeba ‘thirsty’ is very connotative and not at all scientific and actually, very much, hilarious.
I’ve known I miss writing for almost a decade. The fleet car I sometimes have to drive locked me out at a service station in the middle of nowhere for two hours. This happened several months ago and it triggered a medium-sized tantrum (for various other reasons) and I therapeutically wrote a 5600 word fictionalized (but honestly, very accurate and quite funny) account of the event. I sent that shit to my boss.    
Anyway, yes, I could write several, long, winding, satisfying fics to follow season two. But that sounds hard and like working in a vacuum and there’s so much source material to align with and so much fanon dissection ahead of me that instead, during all my long drives and boring seminars of the last ten days or so, I’ve been dipping into next kisses.
Because that kiss was rubbish (ohIlovedit). I have theories about that kiss that spin off into complex heaven and hell lore thinking and what all the nuance and foreshadowing mean, but I don’t, just now, have ten days to sit here and think and type (just about the kiss that I’m not at all convinced was primarily an actual kiss). So, I’ve just skipped season 3 (not a typo) and the whole second coming thing, and the whole them not being very happy with each other thing, and also, yes, them being woefully incompatible with each other (and the state of the universe) at the end of Season 1 and all through Season 2 and jumped to the end of Season 3.
It's a warm, sated, luxurious place to inhabit (built on an imperfect foundation of Neil writing the way I think he will, I hope, I’ll beg). They’ll be safe, happy, and openly in love with each other (yes, of course they’ve said it, Season 3 is over so they can’t have not said it – you fool!) and they’ll be talking (#NinaMaggieWisdom). Admittedly they’ll still be pretty shit at the ‘safe’, ‘happy’ and ‘talking’ bits, but doing quite reasonable at the ‘openly being in love thing’, actually.   
And I can totally buy into the ‘angels have no genitals’ thinking or the ‘angels have no gender’ thinking or the ‘angels are asexual’ thinking, that all makes a great deal of sense to me and can be written well, and I can read and enjoy (and could certainly see Season 3 play out like any of these). But I know I would really, really, struggle with those characters (and dare I say, with those actors (stop it)) and my own brain wiring and projection, with trying to not make them romantic.
So I’ve started to mentally play it out romantically. And then tactile. Which became touch-starved, touch-desperate, and all ‘pleasures of the flesh’ and ‘enjoying the human things’. Which, yes, of course, became sexual (do you not know me at all?) but calm down, please (I’m talking to me, lbh).
Anyhow. Next kisses, because that first one shouldn’t count. The timings are malleable, the order of 3-7 are interchangeable. There’s structure and dialogue (and choreography!) for all of them.
The second time (aka the first time it’s overwhelmingly, categorically right, albeit still complicated, and not at all as straightforward as it should be).
The third time (aka not really the third time because they don’t – they can’t – because it’s extremely awkward and weird, maybe they’ll never do it again).
The fourth time (aka, the first time since it was awkward that it’s not awkward, thank goodness).
The eleventh time (aka it’s like in the movies, there’s a rainstorm and they get wet and have to take shelter under an awning, oh my).
The twenty first time (aka the time someone thinks this is an appropriate way to inform their neighbours).
The twenty-fifth time (aka the first time they do it without thinking about doing it).
The forty first time (aka actually this time a bit more than kissing and it’s all together too good for Crowley (it’s not what you think, honest)).
The seventy third time (aka actually this time quite a bit more than kissing and it’s all together too good for Aziraphale (it’s totally what you think)).
I’m dumping this here after a long, personal post, because that way I can delete it and almost no one will have seen it. But it reads too well behind my eyes to not share (but I’m still tagging it because I’m a mysterious enigma of a needy bitch). A lot of this I came up with while driving and I had to stop myself from pulling over on a highway to scribble things down and that felling is gorgeous and so missed. So, I’m holding onto it for tonight by releasing a little bit of it into an abandoned, dormant blog, that seems to have a bunch of ghosts around.
I have scrawled notes from yesterday’s symposium to transcribe and flesh out. And tomorrow I’m getting a new couch delivered.
16 notes · View notes
unearthlyfromage · 1 month
Text
The Costs of Our Hubris; Chapter 3 "Bones and Skin" Out Now!
Shoutout to @trangenderstan, my co-visionist and who I owe this entire thing too, really. This AU wouldn't be the way it is today if it weren't for him.
Read it on AO3 here
Or read it below the cut!
Skittering up buildings and slinking through the shadows of alleyways, an intense gaze peered through every gap and crack of old sturdy walls. He was stalking for another one in a derelict market, a cesspool, a melting pot of neighboring planets all outpouring resources to sell for the highest bidder.
The place reeked of alien meats and vegetables and cheap jewelry, he could smell it all through the large gap between his closed jaws. The closest Stan would ever get to closing his mouth for his teeth were in the way.
All for naught, Stan was beginning to realize, as he couldn’t see nor taste any filth in the surrounding area. There was no stench of guilt or pen ink, nor any wild brown hair or large cloaked humans. He’d been at this for months, yet he’d only snuffed out a few dozen of those six-fingered bastards. They’re getting smarter.
Scoffing in disgust at the wasted time, he turned his direction forward from his hiding. He made his form known to the crowds, a curled and twisted figure standing taller among most as he approached the wall of living beings, watching them all part and scramble in fear the moment his clawed and deformed feet disturbed the chaotic river they’d amassed.
Glaring at them all with disinterest and disgust he paid no mind to their frantic chattering in hushed cowering tones, the shining sigil of Cipher on his clothes reminding them to stay away should they have a single coherent thought.
Stopping at a rarities stall, his neck snapped to the cowering shopkeep, the many-eyed man low and away from his table. Sneering at him, he turned and slammed his hands on the rickety old wood, claws tearing deep marks in the grain as he leaned in close.
“I want that.” He growled, pointing to a golden 8 Ball. Gulping down the heart in his throat, the man tore his eyes away from Stan to glance at it, though it wasn’t any longer than a split second, that’s usually all it took.
“F-Fifty, for that.” He stuttered, slowly holding his many hands up to try and calm him. Growling, he reached out to grasp his clothes, dragging him up and through the gap in the table to slam him against the post. Stan got close to his face as the shopkeep yelled in his panic, every inch of him trembling. “Yer payment is your life. Fairtrade?” He grins, and the man nods as he laughs airlessly, gasping and choking on his breath as Stan drops him.
Expression fading to a sneer he watched him scramble back into his hut of a pop-up to grab the ball, setting it down and thanking him profusely. Taking them Stan quickly moved on, stopping to shake it and watch the liquid slosh around, chuckling at the simple Maybe?’ it gave in response. Surely he’d like another one, especially one as shiny as this.
Stuffing it in his bag as he continued forward, ripping into and scavenging every shop of interest until he had about ten or twelve little trinkets of varying shapes sizes, and origins.
Without any other needs, he lumbered to an open rift and crawled through it, leaving a ravaged and panicked market behind him.
It took him a small while of random rift portals to reach where he wanted to pray.
This world was a cold and empty one that he knew well, a scrapyard for abandoned aircraft on a planet doomed to rot uninhabited thanks to the radiation. He liked to stay here often, his own home away from home. Digging his claws in titanium hulls to drag himself up and through the refuse, he stood on top of the hulking carrier to scan the skyline to find his spot.
The rotting and rusting materials underneath his marred and mangled feet groaned and cracked under his weight. He was gone by the time it would’ve caved, jumping and lurching from crash to crash steadily ascending a monstrous mountain, one of the last remnants of the actual ground beneath the refuse, sometimes weaving his way through openings and through ship to ship in a practiced rat crawl to reach his favorite piece of garbage to rest in.
Feet digging into the flesh of the ship that peeked over a cliffside, he swung back and forth to build his momentum before letting go and grabbing at the edge of a spacecraft so high up and embedded in the mountainside he was in line with the mint green clouds. Sighing in contentment as he pushed himself up into his ‘house’, he walked in and smoothed a blackened hand over the cold walls, humming happily.
He meandered his way through, passing by old and desecrated corpses of all manner of beings. Bounty hunters, mostly. People that would come here to try and find him, and the unlucky bastards that did would never leave this derelict planet. All of his most enjoyable chases happened here, times where he’d bob and weave on the ceilings and walls snatching them from above when they’d least expect it, mimicking the sounds of their comrades when all was quiet and dark to watch them get closer before finally realizing something was off, always far too late. His favorite chase was a unique circumstance, one had gotten away. It was the one he wanted the most.
He knows for a fact that six-digited rat will never forget him, even if he did squeak away by the skin of his teeth. He had him by the neck, to the wall, he could feel his heartbeat in the pads of his fingers as he squeezed. If only the rest of his crew were dead, he would’ve gotten everything he wanted out of that rush.
Turning a corner he walked ever deeper into the ship, the further any natural rays of light became the more the walls began to glow, Stan had long since coated the place in bioluminescent plant matter. Be it sap from the planet's weird and warped trees or the various other plant life still surviving on a planet so irradiated. He could see in the dark, but lighting it up made it feel more.. homely, in a way.
Eventually, the metal walls gave way into rock-hard dirt, Stan having hollowed out a cave for praying in. Setting his bag down on a pile of bones, he began to carve new symbols to join the countless others that littered the walls and ceiling, whispering an incantation he knew better than English at this point. The sound echoed and warbled around the room, he didn’t stop etching symbols until he ran out of room, collapsing in the center on a carving of his God as his chanting grew in intensity.
His eyes rolled into the back of his skull as he belted what sounded like gibberish to anyone who didn’t understand. His body contorted as his limbs stretched out, yelling love and devotion for his creator as the bones shook and tremored, begging to come home, pleading for his aid in ode Stan's words garbling through coughs as he hacked up a black, viscous liquid, pooling and squirming and bubbling as the bones raised gently in the air.
Spiraling into a circle on the wall, the liquid burning a trail upwards to stretch and fill the void within, a spark of light bursting from the middle as orange light cracked the black tar and spider webbed outward, shards falling to reveal a portal of bleeding intense colors, the orange and red hues of his true home basking him in its light as Stan finally slowed to a silence, sitting there to sunbathe in the impossible dry warmth emanating from the rift.
Getting his fill, he rose to stand and lumbered over to the bag, grabbing it with a trembling hand as he turned to walk inside, the rift fizzling and shorting out soon after.
The room fell back into its desolation, the bones falling to the floor with hollow thumps, some dry enough to crack and shatter.
~~
They had lost yet another one.
A horrible crime scene awaited the small party of five that descended from the ship to do a welfare check on one of their researchers, a Ford tasked with collecting sap samples for adhesives in their projects.
Standing there in the quiet one-man research station, the red smears along the clawed-up walls and floors and ceilings growing thicker around the site of the body made a chill run down his spine.
The scene was quiet, and anything but serene. Walking through it was a tense dread he would never get used to. The lights along the walls buzzed and flickered, still dull and dim from within. It was a stark contrast to the frantic, clawed-open hole in the side of the building. The odd and colorful forest outside is a stark contrast to the grim murder within. Purple trees have grown into woven patterns and spiraled upwards topped with teal and cerulean leaves, samples this Ford had dedicated his past year to studying. Turning to look down the hall at the lumps of torn-up human meat sprawled on the floor, lifeless and red, he couldn’t help but call that year a wasted effort.
The place was haunting. The conical dome shape of the main room was left marginally untouched by the carnage. There was no struggle, Origin would call it vandalism more than anything else. Destroying books and carving symbols and runes into the walls - incantations that needed further research. Raising the camera with limp hands he took photos, the others doing the same in the other rooms. The only footprints - if he could call them that, the claw markings looked more like hands or a bird’s talons than anything else - were ones leading outside. So either this thing cleaned up and returned to ruin the place, or it had done it before killing him. It's unlikely, given it was clear this one hadn’t even taken his gun out.
It was a growing addition to this creature's Modus Operandi. Rarely, if ever, does the victim get a chance to react past realizing what’s happening to him. Staring despondently at the footprints, he leaned his nose against the dull red fabric wrapped around his neck, eyes narrowing.
“It came in from up there.” One of the members of the small five-person crime scene analysis group piped up, a Stan, one of the very few they have on deck that likes to get more involved. Turning to face him and up at the open AC vent, he hums in acknowledgment.
“Didn’t notice that before. Good eye.” He walked closer to the center of the dome, looking up to peer through as much of the vent as was visible. Dents and claw marks are vaguely highlighted by the small lights dotting the ceiling. It seemed big enough for a person to fit through if they were fine with confined spaces and didn’t have too much mass.
Judging by how the insides looked twisted and bent outwards, he’d guess one of those things wasn’t quite the case.
The Stan, Jellyfish they call him - a comedic nickname that didn’t fit the tall imposing figure, face set hard. “I think we should cut our losses and get out, just in case it comes back anytime soon.” The man wanted to get out of here just as much as Origin did, and he couldn’t blame the want.
Walking along the destruction, nothing was done for a strict purpose. The crunching of glass under his boots and the breeze against his back from the open hole were sensations he could do without. Looking up again at the vent, paranoid more than anything else, he noticed the steady red flashing of the base’s security system. “We could try the cameras?” He turned to look at Jelly and the others he’d been talking to.
Glancing at Origin, he hummed. “They’re always corrupted. So says R, at least.” He turned his gaze to them now, eyes staring squinting in scrutiny at the idea. “Unless these have audio, it wouldn’t be worth the effort.”
Cursing under his breath, he shook his head. “Go grab the feed.” He demands with some air of leadership or power, digging his hands in his pockets. “I have a feeling about this. If it’s a wasted effort we’ll call this one inconclusive just like all the others, and never come back. How is that?”
He could hear Jelly scoff and walk away without another word, but Origin wasn’t looking at him, instead analyzing the disfigured handprint on the wall. The outline of something that was once human, if the shape was anything to go by.
It burned a pit in his stomach, gulping uneasily. His face stayed hardened and expressionless, but he couldn’t stop the uneasy sensation in his gut, the broiling and rolling feeling of discomfort that clawed its way up his throat and made a home in his skull. These scenes made him feel nostalgic, in ways he could never place and didn’t want to think about.
Instead, he turned heel and walked towards the body, arms wrenched tight to his back as he looked down at the mangled figure of himself. The smell was pungent, and the first thing to hit him, but beyond that was the damage done. Torn open and vivisected violently, face torn up and disfigured, the hands were missing. All of these deaths were so personal, so angry, and targeted.
He had a horrible feeling for what or who this could be, and what its intentions would be.
“We have the footage,” he could hear Jelly say somewhere beyond the hall, “we should be going. The people from the medical wing said they would bury the body. Come on boss.” Origin's face tightened at the nickname. He wasn’t his boss, not traditionally at least. He held domain over the prison cells and nothing more.
“I’m not your employer. Don’t call me that.” He leaves the body behind, his navy trenchcoat stained purplish at the ends thanks to the still-drying puddle surrounding the body.
Leaving three of them down on the planet for burial left a foul taste in Origin's mouth, they still didn’t know for certain whether or not this monster was gone. Though if it was still lurking, he had high doubts it would’ve let them romp around inside taking samples and photos and analysis of the crimes.
They sat in silence, waiting for the pod to dock in place and once it had, they gave each other a stiff nod and headed for the hull, their voices chattering in various conversations. It took a while to get used to being surrounded by himself, even if none of these cosmic clones were exactly like him.
Staring up at the large, wide robotic figure standing in the center of the steering column, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “I hope you’re done spending quality time with the ship, I require your assistance if you don't mind.”
At first, there was no response. But he knew damn well R heard him. He heard everything in this ship, he WAS this ship… at least in part, when he was docked and controlling it. A synthesized sigh left the robot, relaxing from his stiffened ram rod pose to turn and face him, the only indication that he was looking at him was two LED orbs flashed up on the panel of his face.
“Yes?” his tone was bored, the deep mechanical imitation of a man's voice as he descended the steps and stood opposite him, staring down at him in a cold foreboding manner.
“I need you to watch this footage and tell us what you find.” Origin showed off the small drive, and while R gave no verbal response, he stretched out a metal six-digit hand in emphasis for him to hand it over. “If this is another disappointment, I will refuse to watch anything else you give me.”
“I assure you, this one has promise.” Huffing, the metal man pushed aside synthetic hair to plug it into an empty slot at the base of his neck, staring down at the floor. “Fine. Then you will watch it with me.”
The cameras behind his LED screen, the closest one could compare to eyes, lit up and cast a projection on the metal floor of the ship. Standing up straighter, he tinkered with the opacity and volume, before allowing it to play. Keeping his distance from R, he watched as the researcher, a Ford that hadn’t chosen a unique nickname for himself - most that opt to research off ship didn’t bother - sat there writing down his report for the day.
He remembered that being their first tip something was wrong. They always reported something every day, even if it was just a personal status report. A confirmation they were still alive.
It was normal, for the day-to-day of a research base, and R fast-forwarded until something changed. Stopping at the small squeak of the vent grate opening, Origin was surprised it did have sound.
He leaned in to try and look at what emerged, but it was the same thing it always was. A distorted and fizzling, popping black shape. Stray particulates fade away and ooze off the footage itself.
They weren't quite sure why it was this mass of particles, like a burning singe in an old reel, creating negative space. But they knew it wasn't normal. R had equated it to radiation particles, and seeing it in motion Origin was inclined to agree.
It watched him, whatever it was, and waited for him to get up and walk out. Now alone the thing chuckled to itself, a low and distorted gruff sound that was hauntingly human. It sounded almost familiar, which served to unnerve all the more.
Watching further, it skittered down the wall like a spider, waiting over the doorway for him before finally choosing to strike, jumping him and goring him in the hallway. The sounds of his screams and this things distorted laughter were loud, loud enough for Origin to cringe and press his face into the old fabric of his scarf, closing his eyes. R was kind enough to pause it immediately, rewinding to play the laugh again.
“Something familiar, in that laugh.” He mumbles and stops sharing to play around with it, distorting it further until he plays it again.
Through the static and distortion, the altered and squealing of his screaming and the contorted squishing and ripping, the noise made the baby hairs at the nape of Origin's neck stand on end, there was a sound objectively scarier.
It was once warm and inviting, a comforting hug in verbal form. A sound of nostalgia and sleepless nights together as children. A familiar and frequent sound among the ship's walls. Though it was mangled and bastardized, wrong and distorted, it was unmistakable. It's that gruff, loud bark of a laugh.
Stanley.
2 notes · View notes
ethaninthewilde · 3 months
Text
my experience with top surgery
with Dr. Lisa Friederich in Sydney, Australia
because i needed to write about this beautiful, ethereal experience, even though I do not think I can do it justice in words.
so i had pedicle top surgery with dr. lisa friederich at hunters' hill hospital three days ago and it went as amazing as I ever could have hoped. incredibly beautiful results that have me made me cry with happiness multiple times.
I went in at 8am, the surgery lasted about 4 hours and I woke up about two hours after. i was pretty wiped but my boyfriend was there when i woke up and he just kissed me and i went back to sleep. i woke up again about seven hours later, probably with a 2/10 pain, but that's as bad as my pain has been this whole time and i've been prescribed oxycodone to take as needed (no more than one per four hours) with panadol and that's worked wonders. the drains were attached and there was a little more fluid than i was expecting but that was okay. the nurse came in to take my blood pressure, temperature, oxygen levels, and check my drains. i took some oxycodone and was asleep again in the next hour or so. woke up again around 4am feeling much more myself. managed to walk myself to the bathroom (a big thing for me post-major surgery since I really struggle to walk sometimes) and I saw my chest in the compression binder for the first time. i was so so happy with it being flat and i couldn't stop running my hands over the flat (flat! flat!!!!) surface and i took a lil video of myself and i truly think i will remember that moment forever as the most confident i have ever felt in my body--and i hadn't even seen my actual chest yet.
as euphoric as I was, I was still pretty tired so I went back to bed and called the nurse for some more endone bc I could feel the pain starting to come back. all the nurses that came in the two days I was in the hospital were truly so kind, and so competent and lovely. I did get deadnamed a few times, but I haven't legally changed my name yet so that's what was on my documents, and the nurses who did it all apologised and fixed it so that was wonderful. the nurse took my levels again--everything was fine--and i called my friends who were in different timezones and i cannot describe how it felt to sit with my friends who I'd been talking about getting top surgery with for nearly eight years and now it was just done and my god everything felt so beautiful and it's cliche but everything in life was worth it for these last few days post-op. i had been working toward this surgery for so so long, moved across the country for it, worked four jobs at 15 for it, been homeless for it, had the thought of eventually being able to get this surgery keep me alive for so long when i was alone, depressed, suicidal and self-loathing--and i had finally made it. i finally fucking made it. i was fucking beautiful and i had made it and i finally felt loveable. i finally felt like myself. trans joy is godhood. trans joy is lifesaving. i truly believe this surgery saved my life.
anyways!! i was awake for a few hours until about seven am when i went back to sleep until about 11. my boyfriend was coming to pick me up around 12 after he finished work so i called the nurse in to let her know and she gave me some more endone and removed my first drain. this felt very weird, like a tube was being pulled from the top of my chest through the side, almost alien-like, and i felt a little dizzy and lightheaded so the nurse put an oxygen mask on me and laid the bed down for about five - ten minutes until i felt better. she was really patient which was lovely because i get regular seizures and whenever i get dizzy I always get scared one is coming since it's a regular warning sign, but she just let me lie there with my eyes closed and focus on my breathing. at this point my boyfriend had turned up, and he held my hand whilst she took the other drain out, which had considerably less fluid in it.
i saw the surgeon again before I was discharged--and Dr. Lisa is genuinely one of the kindest, well-conducted doctors I have ever dealt with (and I have been in hospital over 35 times in the last 7 months or so). she replaced the top layer of clear dressing over my nipples, and worked a needle through them to de-congest some of the blood, which turned them back to the more-typical pink. she then gave me a fresh binder and gauze pads to take home, along with a box of oxycodone for the pain and told me to book a follow-up appointment with her in the next seven days. she also told me to do regular compressions of the nipple area to continue decongesting the blood over the next few days, which would help with the colour. now this was the moment because i got to take the binder off to do these compressions and i saw my chest for the first time. and truly, truly, truly--the innate, inherent holy shit, that's me feeling that fucking swept through was overwhelming i teared up and almost hugged my surgeon. i didn't have a lot of time to contemplate bc I had to put the binder back on and the nurse came back in with the paperwork and suddenly I was packing up (though they were very kind and said i could stay for as long as I wanted to, if I had any more questions, etc.)
boyfriend made me food when we got home and insisted I go to bed despite feeling completely fine if a bit tired still, so I did and we watched an episode of drag race. we're staying at his parents' place whilst i'm recovering and both of his parents are/used to be nurses so this was a reassurance if anything were to go wrong. i had soup for dinner that night which hurt my throat a little but the main issue is was the massive bruise on the inside of my lip from when i was intubated in surgery (which should go away in the next few days, but to me has honestly been the most frustrating part of this whole recovery). took some panadol and endone and did my compressions. taking off the binder and being able to look at my chest properly for the first time was the most tender moment of my entire life, with ethan whispering "you're so beautiful" and "baby, you made it" and "look at you, love, holy shit" into my ear and into my shoulder as i sat there, completely exposed, completely vulnerable, bandaged, and completely myself for the first time in my life. i think i spent about 45 minutes just going back and forth between him and the mirror, laughing and crying and laughing and just being so indescribably euphoric and overcome with it all. i'd finally made it. here, right now, even with all my unresolved medical issues and trauma and fears, i had everything i had ever wanted and it was real. it was REAL. i do not think i will ever feel that strong of a sense of peace and contentness again in my life. in that moment i felt unbreakable. in that moment i felt invincible, indestructible, fucking untouchable. i fucking made it, and no one could take that away from me. no one, nothing, ever. i had saved my life. i had saved my own life. i was here and i was real and i was finally myself. how do i explain this? i cannot keep repeating this but it seems the only way. lord, if only you could feel the godhood i have been given. the power i have in my hands. the power this body has.
it took me too long to realise how beautiful this trans body of mine is. but i am here now. i am never letting go.
dr. lisa friederich: i think you saved my life. thank you for bringing me back. thank you. thank you. thank you. i finally made it.
[i will add to this over the next few days, but right now i need to go back to sleep. i love you all]
2 notes · View notes
flyfish1999 · 7 months
Text
AO3 tag game \o/ !!!
thank youuu for tagging me @ragecndybars !!! best of luck with your wips ^_^ !!!!!!!!! without further ado ...
How many works do you have on AO3? 103 !! \o/ !!! i hit the 100 mark just at the end of december .. and then didn't post all january lol ^_^
What's your total AO3 word count? only 97,635 ! pretty unsurprising, everything i write tends to be a oneshot, and very short oneshots at that ! not even an average of 1000 words per fic though ehehe ; ; !
How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they? 33 ! ofc this is only ao3's number, some of these count for the same fic being tagged with multiple series tags, but (ignoring my .. eugh ... 6 2020 original work posts i refuse to look at ...) my top fandoms are: persona 3 [40] , persona 5 [15] , trauma center [8] , persona 4 [6] , pokemon [5] ! wow ... i'm honestly surprised, but i feel like i shouldn't be ^_^;;
Top five fics by kudos: all of these are from over three years ago, so i don't remember them very well ^_^;; and i'm kind of scared to reread them now, but here goes: we won't slip through your fingers - 763 kudos ! a cute p5 found family fic with akira, sojiro and futaba ^_^ i still see this pop up in my daily kudos email every so often ! it seems like the type of thing i like reading myself for p5, so i'm not surprised :p Indistinct and Incomprehensible - 515 kudos ! another p5 sakura family fic (sensing a theme?) but this time interrogation room flavoured ! i've always loved the interrogation room hook, probably because i'm such a huge fan of whump fic ^_^;; i'll never forget when a friend excitedly messaged me saying she was about to send me a great interrogation room fic .. only to realise it was mine :p The Days When My Father's Here - 402 kudos ! another- I PROMISE I DON'T ONLY WRITE P5 SAKURA FAMILY FIC LOL ...! cute and short, a shortcake biscuit of a read imo :3c (he left the town long before) yet his house is still standing in the same place - 400 kudos ! akira talking tatsujun ... i've always liked this premise, even as i tend to lean into the angstier side of p2 nowadays ^_^ but no matter what, i have always been a long title connoisseur ... i hope it's toned down in recent years ehehe ! Unconventional Naming Ceremony - 275 kudos ! yeah ... the truth come out ... i used to be a huge fan of the sonic movie >_< i was literally on the phone to my friend the other day getting bullied about how much i used to like it lol !!!!!!! they didn't even know me then ... c'mon ... i hope this is a cute fic. i'm too scared to touch it. lol.
Do you respond to comments? i try to as much as i can !!! sometimes i forget, and sometimes i just don't have anything i might want to say other than thank you for commenting, but all of them mean so much to me ^_^ rereading comments is probably about 40% of my fuel ehehe
What's the fic with the angstiest ending you've ever written? wow ...! that's difficult ! even though i write lots of angsty fic, i am a freak who can find joy in anything. the jolliest guy you could say. a mochizuki fan, possibly. in recent memory, i'd say disappearance, an alien heart beat ... even shorter than usual, but miserable the whole way through . ryoji and minato sit in a room and don't say anything. yaaaay ! (fun fact! it is partially based on a feeling i used to get when me and my ex used to sit in my room with the lights off but the tv on standby, because the overhead light was too harsh. i love watching people move under light; i love the sound of electronics that have been on for too long)
Do you write crossovers? not really ?! they're fun for crackfics, but i don't really honestly explore them that often. maybe i should !
Have you ever gotten hate on a fic? i .... don't think so ! i used to get hate anons when i was younger + stupider because i was quite literally asking for it -_-;; but rage -> if you see this, that zelda comment screenie you posted made me laugh for literally ten minutes [link]
Do you write smut? i would really like to !!!!!!! but i'm so shy >_< !!! but also i worry .. i did once, for OCs of mine, and sent it to a friend ... who immediately sent back laughing that it was 98% inner monologue, 2% actual smut .. which tracks for me lol !
Have you ever had a fic stolen? i sure hope not !
Have you ever had a fic translated? YES !!!!!!! it's always been my dream ^_^ !!! and just this year i had and then he looked right through me, as if i wasn't there translated into russian by a very kind regular commenter !!! if you see this: thank you so much, it means the world to me !!! apparently it was for a friend of theirs, who is a new fan of p3 due to the widespread translations of reload, and they really liked it ^_^ it makes me so happy to think that reload can really extend p3's reach and even more people can get a chance to experience it ...
What’s your all-time favorite ship? ryomina ofc ^_^;; ! kind of topical, but i recently scored the old kotobukiya minato figure that came with the episode "luck" drama cd ! i'll never stop talking about it, but reading episode luck's translations on the gekkouhigh livejournal is what made me love ryomina, and cemented my love of p3 as a whole ... such sweet memories ehehe
What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will? mostly things that were born of a specific emotion i was feeling when i drafted it, and don't really want to feel again if i can help it, or at least on purpose. it makes me pretty sad that i feel some of my most impactful work has come out of me feeling ... well, pretty sad ! so i just work harder every day to write just as well, if not better, than things i've written in that state :]
What are your writing strengths? aaa ... i think i'm good at laying running metaphors in a fic (which i love hearing when @p3ta says them back to me ^_^ !!!!!!!!!!!!) if that makes sense ?!?! probably because i love edgar wright movies .. callback fan writes callbacks eternally like the ouroboros lol :p i'm sisyphean !
What are your writing weaknesses? i need to buckle down and write longer fics goddamn it !!!!!!!!!! my latest work, the best beast ever is a boy you know, is also my longest work to date, at a measly 3,657 words. but i love it so much, and it's so amazing what i can do with just 2000 words more than i'm used to ! hopefully i can keep it up ^_^
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fics? it's interesting, and really enjoyable when done well (looking at some bebe writers tbh !!!!!) ... buuut, of course, it can also fall flat ! kind of related, but the closest i've ever gotten to something like this is using japanese honorifics . i know it's a little divisive, but i like it a lot when used responsibly (as i try to) ^_^;; ! overuse of stuff like -sama totally makes me feel like i'm about to tab into ouran high school host club part 1 of 13 on youtube though lol
What was the first fandom you ever wrote for? gravity falls, on a long abandoned ff.net account ! you know i was one of those guys writing it directly into the post box :]
What’s your favorite fic you’ve written so far? it's cheating, but i have two and an honourable mention. i am so happy to have returned to writing persona 3 fic ... it is one of my favourite things ^_^ first of all: alone but sane . alone but sane could be considered my magnum opus so to speak lol ... it is just one of those ideas that is so perfect. i don't know ... i am in many ways my own biggest fan. i do ofc owe my inspiration for it to @mymp3, the best messiah recipe 2008 attendee ^_^ i am so glad we're friends now :p second of all: when you're hollowed out and empty !!!! i hope to write many more fuuka and ryoji fics this year . she is so kind and so reaching in her kindness ... i aim to be more like her ..! fuuka asks, "i wonder what ryoji's doing... do you think he's still crying, like before?" and i write and write and write at last .. my honourable mention! my only zombieland saga fic, and you don't seem to understand (a shame, you seemed an honest man) .. i don't have anything to say here .. zls is a tragedy . to me
again, thanks for tagging me \o/ !!! this is ofc open to anyone who might want to play !!!! i hope you're all having a nice day :]c
4 notes · View notes
containatrocity · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
THE DIRGE: OLEANDER "OCTOBER ROULETTE" GRIMM
(That man he's a monster!) Made a deal with the demons, he's a cold hearted heathen- yeah it's gunpowder season.
"October Roulette. Any name I used to have hardly matters anymore, because that's the only one anybody bothers to pay any lip service. I'm 48 years old and hail from Georgia, where I started my career as a musician at 18 years old. As the frontman for Autumn's Gamblers I made my name as a temperamental, over the top man, eventually alienating my bandmates and going solo as Odd Revolver. I'm technically a visitor, living in the commune since my arrival and largely keeping to myself and among my own interests. I do not currently hold employment and likely won't, until forced to act. As a man bent on vices and violence, it's a little rude to ask me to narrow down my absolute favorite- but blood spilled in service of my own personal gain has always been the hardest habit to kick."
Name: Oleander Grimm- though he's known entirely by his stage name, October Roulette.
Aliases: Ock, Toby, Ten, TKO
Age: 48 (July 17th)
Sexuality/Gender: pansexual cis male
Personality: self-servicing and cruel, October Roulette has built his empire off the backs of people too foolish to best him at his own game. Despite his clear talent for music and gift of gab, it's hustles and foul play that he's benefited from the most- and these things inform his personality. Boisterous, loud, and commanding both in stature and engagement with the world at large, October's charisma belies a rather mean-spirited layer just under the surface. He'd much sooner watch somebody grovel for his attention than offer a kindness, and it's a history in the tabloids and gossip rags since the 90s that's fed his ego. He's violent to a fault, eager to put his fists and firearms to work when the opportunity arises, and a game of chance played against October Roulette oft ends poorly- like the Russian style of his namesake.
Occupation: currently unemployed, former rockstar as Odd Revolver and the frontman of Autumn's Gamblers.
Affiliations: the commune, Quinn
Scent Profile: clove cigarettes and heady, musky cologne, there's a lingering scent of gunpowder and copper, something subtly sweet that turns the stomach unpleasantly- it feels disingenuous- meant to draw you in like honey-like a flytrap.
Aesthetic: Bitter black coffee in a cup stained with blood, ceramic streaked sanguine and too many rings dotted with gore. Absent sips and sigilcraft- thy art is murder- in blood your pact paid due. A large furred coat and an ornate revolver, your namesake, a tool- it feels impersonal, now. Blood on hands on rings on neck. Stained red. Guitar strings and lyric sheets. The devil left Georgia in your body. You do death's will now. A dirge. A song for the dead. It mourns not- through you, it is a bellowing scream.
Opened up his eyes with a double-edged blade, time to pay the price for the choices that he made, whispers in his head slowly tapping on his brain- Praying to a God that he's never gonna face.
CHAPTER ONE: LIFE IN HUNTSVILLE POST ARRIVAL.
October has few duties beyond being perceived as what he is, massive, deadly, dangerous. It is his presence that encourages second thoughts in those who might choose to 'put an end' to the talk of the creatures in the woods demanding sacrifice to allow the townspeople to roam free, and it is his freedom to behave in his typical capacity, a bully and a brute that keeps him loyal to the cause- He is an imposing, monstrous figure, and he is never much more than a shout of his name away from an act of brutality in service of his ultimate goal: Keeping Huntsville locked away, with himself and a chosen few at the helm. He doesn't need power, he does not seek to lead, he wants only to do what he's done since he was a boy. To kill. To consume. To hunt those lesser than him in service of his pacts with things more evil than he could ever hope to grasp.
He is charismatic, despite this, and endearing when he must be, charming enough to pull strings, famous enough prior to his time in Huntsville to prey upon those weak enough to fall victim to the glitz and glamour of perceived celebrity- It's left him a tumultuous figure, to say the least, love or hate him, October is undeniable, commanding a room when he enters and using that presence to bolster the words of someone who may lead to the town's undoing.
5 notes · View notes
jumpscaregoose · 2 years
Text
I finished the Shaman King again
loserbrain thoughts under cut because it's me and shaman king and I am very Normal about it (also spoilers duh but you probably already know them all)
so ya boi rewatched shaman king this past month or so.
realized I'd never actually done that (I'd rewatched it with friends or went through my favourite episodes but I'd never went through it again start to finish). I told myself no skipsies but I broke that rule almost immediately and I did skip some parts (sorry episode eight you're just boring to me).
anyways my general thoughts
I appreciate this silly little ghost show more every time I watch it it's just really good. my enjoyment has not decreased in the slightest. found myself understanding some parts I thought were lackluster before because for like a year I was a dumbass and didn't get that It's a Metaphor, You Idiot. the text literally spells out "this is a metaphor for a person's mindset and strength of will" like every 3 seconds and I just. ignored it I guess??? turns out a lot of stuff makes more sense if you look at it less like smashing two action figures together and more as mushy brain stuff. who could have ever possibly guessed that (not past me). thought it was overall very very good and its lackluster parts (random aliens a la midichlorians I'm looking at you) were made up for by its great parts (basically everything else).
went into the last episode to try and iron out my thoughts on the ending (went from hating it on my first watch to tolerating it on subsequent watches) and I think it is consistently decent. could have used some more episodes and is just really confusing if you're not a pathetic loser nerd who can Well Actually it. I like it a lil bit. thought I'd reconciled my feelings about renmei to "my god that could have been so good we were ROBBED if they'd explained how this HAPPENED it would have been SO GOOD" but now it's "the same thing as before except I'm angry and yelling now" because it's true renmei could have been great and I mourn the loss of that every day. episode 51 remains the best episode (despite the midichlorian aliens) purely for the hao awakening scene. episode 50 is fun because major character revelation 2 episodes before the end and I think that's Neat (affectionate).
telling you all that one time a while back I watched the Bear Episode and wanted to fact check if there would actually be bears there and I asked my friends who live in Colorado and they thought I didn't think bears lived in Colorado.
FINALLY figured out all the symbolism behind the training in hell arc. have had a theory that the scenery represented Funky Brain Stuff™ but just. couldn't. understand. joco's part. sat down and thought about it for a bit and realized I forgot that the themes of Dante's Divine Comedy (Rodin's Gates of Hell is there and all) where the same as those happening for that part of the story and focused on the floating islands for eight months like an idiot. should probably make another post with my interpretations of hell stuff because I'm fairly confident I get it and also it's cool.
appreciate hao even more after this rewatch he's an excellent antagonist and also my precious meow meow. will not elaborate go read this.
ost does funky stuff with leitmotif sometimes but also I like it
generally forgot that I actually like quite a bit of early shaman king. my brain defaulted to episode six is fantastic and forgot about the rest. it's very nostalgic to me which is weird because I first watched it last year but it's true don't fight me I'll win.
top ten episodes for me are 51, 40, 6, 15, 45, 9, 50, 47, 27, 2 (most favourite first, with no bias towards anyone at ALL).
shaman king really good me really likey
might actually watch the 2001 version if pleaded with (it is my archnemesis)
3 notes · View notes
Text
My Top Ten Nu Who Episodes
Now that I finished all the reviews, I figured I would put my 10/10 episodes in order. I had 22 that were the top rated, but this post is just the best 10 of those.
Blink (Ten): I love the utter creepiness of the angels, especially this first time, and the found footage thing! The Doctor is barely even in it and it's one of the best episodes of all time.
Dot and Bubble (Fifteen): The messages about modern, tech-savvy racism in a way aimed at white people who don't think of themselves or their friends like that were powerful and made this episode the best, but it wasn't just that. The bright, poppy, colorful aesthetic added to it. I loved that the AI was the villain but also in the right. I love the slugs so much, it makes it even funnier that the AI absolutely could have just zapped everyone. Also Ncuti's acting and the pain and confusion of the Doctor experiencing this kind of illogical bigotry for the first time, it was so intense. Also I like that the Doctor cries and yells in general now.
Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead (Ten): Also very creepy and very sad, and one of River's best episodes because we know nothing about her yet, except that she loves adventure and the Doctor and, somehow, he will love her. I just have a lot of fun with it.
The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances (Nine): Much like the angels, the empty gas mask people are so creepy and I love that the story is from the perspective of scared street kids in the middle of a war. But it's the best because, after all the terror, love and truth won and everyone lived.
The Girl Who Died/The Woman Who Lived (Twelve): Alright, I might have a tiny bit of a theme going for things that are eerie and sad. But I don't think I'll ever be over (1) the idea that she can never die, and she will always be herself, but if part of yourself is who you know and what you've done she has also completely lost herself, and (2) that the Doctor caused something so awful through an act of compassion. And that scene at the end of the first part where the days whisk by and she turns from a happy young woman to someone sad and torn apart without physically aging at all lives rent free in my head.
Turn Left (Ten): You knew there had to be at least one internally-created AU story on this list. I like this one in particular because the world falls apart so fast without the Doctor, at points we specifically recognize as plots he now missed, and how Donna deals with this. Also Rose-as-a-mystery-visitor is fun. And Donna is important, in the end, for her practical nature.
The Beast Below (Eleven): Space whales will always get to me. The knowledge that the entire populace was made aware of a horror that they could change and chose to forget because the cost was too scary. Two last of their kind aliens who came because the children cried. And, as rarely happens, the best choice the Doctor could make was wrong. He was going to stop the whale hurting or being aware because he wasn't willing to take the risk anymore than the ship's populace had been. Also Liz 10 is an iconic badass.
Eve of the Daleks (Thirteen): Time loop stories hold a special place in my heart like AU ones. I like seeing the characters trying desperately to make it better with less and less time. I like the eerie, frankly weird setting of the storage units. And I like the daleks being just as confused as the people.
Fugitive of the Judoon (Thirteen): The Fugitive!Doctor is SO iconically the Doctor, but I like how she's different. Colorful, wild and silly, and yet. She's a spy. She knows what's at stake (something we never actually find out). And she's running from the Time Lords, something that I don't even care shouldn't really be possible (something something time lock, why we never see pre-war Time Lords running around) because it's exciting. Plus judoon are fun! Their language is stimmy! And the fact that this episode starts off with the vibes of any other episode and then breaks all the lore is my favorite thing ever.
Once, Upon Time (Thirteen): It's not really an AU story, but the way it cuts to planets we've never seen with characters we only met this season who are unconnected to the Doctor makes it feel a little like it anyway. Plus, more Fugitive lore, which I was hungry for. Double plus, we actually got more lore for the companions too.
0 notes
dancingbabya · 1 year
Text
I made a post on how I think Superman, Clark Kent, would enjoy tea over coffee. And that got me thinking on other things.
Point 1) Clark knows the times and dates of every flea market and farmers market in and around Metropolis!
Why? He grew up on a farm and I feel like he’d be more then welcome to the idea of supporting farms in the area where he lives to fill in for anything his parents can’t send to him. There are all those pesky restrictions on what you can and can’t send through the mail.
Point 2) I dunno why but I feel like Clark would change accents when he gets upset.
Now let’s think about this. On tiktok Pandared mentioned the new Jersey accent for those that live in Gotham. Because that’s where canonically Gotham city is located. So if that’s the case then Metropolis is in New York. We as people would adapt to where we live and sometimes that is displayed in our speech. So after some time Clark would pick up a kind of New York accent, but if you can get him mad enough you will not understand what he is saying because he’s speaking so fast on top of the southern accent that would come out.
I’m actually surprised by how much I’m focusing on Superman considering my interest for the past seven or six years has solely been batman and anything I could find on him.
Can I just say it’s bullshit that they don’t have like their localized accents. I’m guessing it’s because the fictional cities in the DC universe are supposed to be Anywhere-ity USA, which is just bullshit.
Cause like a lot of people have come to the conclusion that. Metropolis is in New York, Gotham is in New Jersey, Starling city and Jump city are in California (jump city specifically because the other tower was referred to as titans East, you cannot change my mind unless you would like to point me to a place where it says otherwise), Central City is in the mid west (I have the exact location written somewhere but I really should type it.) and so on and so forth.
But it would be more realistic for them to have localized accents.
Also I die on the hill that is Bruce wouldn’t have a concrete accent he’d have a hint of one he would probably have mimicked certain phrases that Alfred said when he was child because children do that, they slip out from time to time. Because the general time that would have for kids to pick up an accent starts from when they’re a child learning how to speak, you can learn accents, but Bruce’s parents died when he was around ten years old his accent was already set.
Concerning the other kids I agree: Jason, Tim, Duke, and Steph as Gothimites should absolutely have a New Jersey accent. They grow up in that city.
Point 3) circling back to Clark’s parents, can you imagine an alien baby who doesn’t know how to regulate his strength? Because I feel like everyone would be worried about getting hurt by Clark.
Clark has such a happy backstory –I know being raised by someone a different species than you after your home planet was destroyed isn’t happy but bear with me– unlike some of the super heroes Clark was probably the one raised with the most love and kindness. Not that he would ever realize that somethings different about him the Kent’s tell him that they found him and didn’t give birth to him, but in every iteration I’ve seen so far he kind of accepts it. But here’s the thing that is bothering me how did Clark learn to regulate his strength as not to cause harm to the humans around him?
Did they have an accidents with him accidentally using his powers or did he learn them all on accident?
I feel like Clark would try to help his ma in the kitchen and accidentally cut his hand and the knife breaks instead of his skin, because duh, and his ma is trying to figure out how to come figure out the best way to explain this to her child.
What if he accidentally messed up a field because he sent the crops into early winter with his frost breath?
I find all these questions to be super important for know reason than I’m curious what everyone else thinks is the answer. I don’t want to hear “it’s his child hood we don’t care about that”
Because I think the funniest story about batman was that he holds a grudge against Alfred for getting him the wrong sword for his birthday one year. The reason was because at the time Bruce was too small to receive the one he wanted, he still got a sword for his birthday it was just slightly smaller and better for his stature at the time.
Next concerning Superman’s kids. Disagree with me if you want but I think that he would just end up with the two boys. Like the Superman family thing… yeah you have Kara and that’s pretty much it because you know the planet was wiped out. The only way is accept any other Kryptonians existing would be tears in the space time continuum. Because story wise it wouldn’t make any sense unless there were Kryptonians on other planets which would be a viable point, but in every show or movie so far that hasn’t been suggested or recognized.
That’s it for now.
1 note · View note
sci-fiworlds · 1 year
Text
Alien Bad Guys: A Sci-Fi Worlds Top Ten
I originally intended to conclude my loose "paranormal trilogy" in this fortnight's Sci-Fi Worlds, but since the first two installments were featured in Room 101 I thought it best to save part III for there too. So instead, since I'm writing this over the Easter holidays, I thought I'd take it easy a little with a Sci-Fi Worlds Top Ten Alien Bad Guys instead. All just my opinion, of course. Maybe people could post their own top 10 on the BoA forum.
Romulans, Sontarans, Cybermen, The Dominion, Davros and the Daleks are just some of the baddies doing battle to claim top prize as our number one villain in the world of science fiction. Read on and find out ...
Tumblr media
10) The Romulans (Star Trek)Homeworld - Romulus and RemusAffiliation - The Romulan Star Empire
Forget the Klingon Empire it was the Romulans who should have been the main protagonists during James T. Kirk's three year reign in the captain's chair. The violent and militaristic Vulcan off-shoots giving the original Enterprise crew one of their very best episodes (if not the best) when they made their début in Balance of Terror.
9) The Minbari (Babylon 5)
Homeworld - Minbar
Affiliation - The Minbari Federation
The Next Generation had its moments but Babylon 5 is the true successor to the original Trek, inheriting some of the best Original Series writers that so obviously influenced B5 creator J. Michael Straczynski.
More casual B5 fans are probably thinking "why are the Minbari in the list? Weren't they good guys?" Yes, for the most part in the series they were, but in the best of the TV movies In The Beginning (which tells the story of the Earth-Minbari War that took place ten years prior to pilot episode The Gathering) they come within a hare's breath of exterminating all humanity in their "Holy war" against the Earth Alliance.
8) The Sontarans (Doctor Who)Homeworld - SontarAffiliation - The Sontaran EmpireRobert Holmes is often celebrated in Doctor Who fandom as the very best of the classic series writers, writing all time greats like The Talons of Weng-Chiang, The Caves of Androzani and even the Master's début story the Terror of the Autons. However, it was Holmes' creation of the Sontarans that arguably had the biggest impact on the show. The cloned warrior race being the only Doctor Who monster to invade (on screen) Gallifrey, the Doctor's Homeworld.
7) The Cylons (Battlestar Galactica)Homeworld - Cylon HomeworldAffiliation - The Cylon EmpireCold and calculating. The war machines ruthlessly wiped out and conquered the Twelve Colonies of Mankind in less than 24 hours. What more could you want. (Read my Battlestar Galactica piece for more of my thoughts on the Cylons.)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
6) The Borg (Star Trek)Homeworld - Unimatrix One, located in the Delta QuadrantAffiliation - The Borg CollectiveOne of those moments I was talking about above. The Borg saved The Next Generation and the whole Star Trek franchise from total extinction when they kidnapped and transformed Jean-Luc Picard into Locutus of Borg in The Best of Both Worlds.
Single-minded (quite literally, they have a group or hive consciousness) and utterly relentless in their quest for "perfection," this cyborg collective is the ultimate threat to the United Federation of Planets. In the words of the entity Q: "The Borg are the ultimate user. They're unlike any threat your Federation has ever faced. They're not interested in political conquest, wealth, or power as you know it. They're simply interested in your ship, its technology. They've identified it as something they can consume."
5) The Cybermen (Doctor Who)
Homeworld - Mondas (destroyed)
Other Planets - Telos - Planet 14 - Parallel Earth
Affiliation - The Cyber Empire
The original Borg. The Steel Giants from Mondas were assimilating humans before it was cool. Enough said.
Tumblr media
4) The Alien, also called the Xenomorph (Alien franchise)Homeworld - unknown (first encountered by the crew of the commercial towing spaceship Nostromo on LV-426, Zeta Reticuli star system)Affiliation - noneThe most realistic looking extraterrestrial species ever shown on the big screen and perhaps the only truly terrifying one. The "Perfect organism. Its structural perfection is matched only by its hostility … A survivor... unclouded by conscience, remorse, or delusions of morality."
3) The Dominion (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine)
Homeworld - The Founder's home planet, located in the Omarion Nebula, Gamma Quadrant
Tumblr media
Important Members & Allies of the Dominion- The Founders, aka The Changelings (the "Founders" and ultimate heads of the Dominion)- The Vorta (the Founders' cloned intermediaries acting as Dominion administrators, diplomats, command staff, and scientists)- The Jem'Hadar (the ultimate warrior race and shock troops of the Dominion)- The Cardassian Union- The Breen Confederacy
Tumblr media
2) The Shadows (Babylon 5)Homeworld - Z'ha'dum, aka Alpha Omega 3 (destroyed)Affiliation - unknownAn ancient force of conflict and chaos, the very essence of evil. Shrouded in mystery and armed with technology a million years ahead of 23rd century Earth (not to mention the coolest looking ships on TV) the Shadows were easily the best alien race in what many consider the best space opera series ever made.
1) Davros and the Daleks (Doctor Who)
Homeworld - Skaro, aka D5-Gamma-Z-Alpha (destroyed)
Other Planets - 22nd Century Earth - Kembel - The Ogron home planet - Spiridon - Necros
Affiliation - The Dalek Empire
The post of supreme alien bad guys has to go to Davros and his ultimate achievement the Daleks. Brilliant but utterly lacking in conscience, without soul or pity, the mutant madman Davros created the Daleks in his own image. Programmed to "conquer and destroy" all other forms of life the metal monsters soon turned on their creator though and thus began their ethnic cleansing of the Universe.
Together, Davros and the Daleks are the ultimate Who allegory for evil. The only two Who villains to consistently have the Doctor on the ropes. The Dalek's conquering Earth not once but twice (at least) and even being responsible for the deaths of two of the Doctor's on screen companions. Not to mention the near extinction of the Doctor's own people the Time Lords.
1 note · View note
yautjalover · 2 years
Text
This isn’t getting the love it deserves, so I’m putting this Scar/Lex fic here for everyone to see. Please reblog if you like it! I’ll post the next part when I’m not busy with work.
Apologies for the formatting. Pasting writing on here is so hard to get the formatting to be consistent. I just don’t get it. I tried to fix it. :/
SFW. No content warnings necessary.
Word count: 4,142
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bouvetøya (Pt. 1)
1/2
"Again."
Lex climbed on her feet, ignoring the sweat that poured down her face. The mat beneath their feet had somehow absorbed the secretions each time she had hit the mat. Down and down she went, again and again.
Her body was sore. There was no part of her that had been spared. Bruises peppered her skin in varying shades. The muscles in her arms were sore from taking the brunt of blocking his attacks.
He telegraphed them so carefully, but she still missed them when he would change tactics without warning. His moves were fast even though he had slowed down his attacks considerably.
"Time out!" She groaned when he delivered a well placed swipe at her legs.
Lying on the mat, she closed her eyes and tried to take in deep lungfuls of air. It didn't seem like she could get enough.
Scar was an amazing teacher but he didn't know when to take a break. He was like a living machine. He could go on for hours and hours. The...Yautja...as she had learned he was...had ten times the energy she would ever have.
He appeared above her with his arms folded across his wide chest. His muscles bulged with the simple action and she had to focus on his face, that familiar coil forming in her lower belly.
It was new.
This reaction to him.
Instead of picturing those hands on her when they sparred, she had begun to see them exploring her body in a more...carnal activity. She began to wonder how it would feel to have that hard muscular body on top of her. This was...not right...but so right somehow.
It was just another thing that didn't make sense in her new life living with aliens.
"What?"
He had said something but her mind had been in other places.
"That is all for the lesson today." Those yellow eyes stared at her with irritation.
"I'm doing my best, Scar." He huffed a breath of annoyance. His real name was jibberish to her still, so Scar it was. The scar on his forehead was another reminder of what Lex had been through almost a year ago. "I'm sorry for disappointing you."
His expression softened as he helped her to her feet. Her breath hitched slightly when his rough hand patted her on the shoulder gently.
If he had noticed her reaction to his touch, he was pretty damn good at ignoring it. "In time you will improve."
His English was rough and hard to understand, but she was grateful for his attempts. She met him half way with, "I am trying."
"Try harder."
"I'm at my limit."
"If only you could see what I see." Those were his parting words as he turned to leave, clearly not having broken a sweat.
Watching him go was a sight she liked to watch. The muscles in his back flexed with every step, showing off how built he was. For an alien, he sure reminded her of one of those old marble statues.
An image of muscled perfection.
Pretty soon she was alone in the training room. The others on the ship were busy with some sort of banquet for the return of the newly blooded Yautja. Scar had pulled her from her lonesome spot for a training session.
His nearness made her heart stutter in a good way. She also had come to enjoy his company. When he wasn't being so uptight, he made a good companion.
Perhaps that was where her attraction for him bloomed. Or...it was Bouvetøya.
Just thinking of that damn island brought back the memories of those screeching black things.
As she gathered her water skin and made her way to the public showers, she remembered the harrowing experience of trying to get out of that pyramid. Scar and her had barely made it out alive. They had been lucky, and quick enough. Together they had worked to kill the bug Queen.
Scar called it a candy amedha. She still couldn't quite grasp the syllables but to herself she called them the bugs. That's all they were. Black beetle-like bugs that dragged their victims off into the darkness.
Everyone who had been in there with her had died. Everyone but her and Scar.
Somehow, one of those spider things had infected him and he had barely survived the surgery. It had taken just a few days of recovery, however, and he was back on his feet. His "clan leader" had tasked him with her training.
She was now his burden.
The more she grasped his difficult language, the more it became apparent that his fellow clan members saw her as a pet. She had helped to kill the Queen, but their pride wouldn't accept it. Even he barely mentioned it. His refusal to do so was wearing on her mentally.
Maybe she was a pet after all. She hoped for the sake of her heart that he didn't see her like that.
As crazy as it was...she wanted him to see her for the strong woman she was slowly becoming. Lex knew she was already strong, she knew that from years leading expeditions in polar and isolated regions, but she wanted him to actually see her. Wanted him to look at her the way he would when a female Yautja showed him attention.
He would puff his chest out like a preening bird and posture to make himself bigger. Many times he had interrupted their training sessions to go show off for a female with wandering eyes.
She snorted, remembering how hard he tried once.
It was downright comical. He didn't need to do anything but stand there and impress Lex. There wasn't a single thing that didn't impress her about him. These females were missing out.
Sorely.
They didn't see what she saw.
Lex reached the public bathing room and had just entered the dark, steamy entrance when she froze in her tracks.
There, standing in all his naked glory, was the muse of her thoughts. He had just removed his loincloth and was crouched low to test the water with his fingers. His long tubular black dreadlocs fell a little past his shoulders and shined even in the low light. Seeing his sculpted body on full display made that heat coil in her lower belly.
Just as he began to turn around she fled the room. She practically ran and headed in the direction to her tiny quarters. On the way out she collided violently with the edge of the doorway in her rush to escape.
Doing without a shower right now would have to make due, despite how gross she felt. Anything to avoid letting those carnal thoughts further take root. When some time had passed, she would go and clean up, and hopefully by then the bathing room would be empty again. There was no way in hell that she would get naked around him.
She hoped to God that he couldn't smell her hormones. Surely they were screaming that she wanted to have sex with him. Hopefully none of the Yautja could smell it, but she was beginning to lose hope about that. In her peripheral vision she would see them turn to look at her and scent the air, their mandibles spreading open.
It was truly embarrassing.
If they could smell it then he could smell it.
Lex was a grown woman and felt like a horny teenager all over again. If her mother hadn't passed a few years prior, then she likely would've been scolding her for avoiding the alien man rather than being direct and telling him she wanted him. Her mom was a very forward and blunt woman, so she would've nagged her about.
Oh, how she missed her. She missed her dad, too.
Thinking of family helped to ground her in the present and not get swept up in the process of falling in love with an alien. An alien who likely would never return those sentiments. She was small compared to one of their females, so she'd likely get hurt in the "mating" anyways.
After only being on the ship for two days she had walked on a couple beating the crap out of each other. The male managed to force the female into submission and that was when she left.
The sight was unlike anything she had ever seen.
Their version of foreplay was a display of strength and power. That was something she never could do. Scar would always be stronger than her, sure, but would he think to be careful with her if it ever came to it? Would he be gentle as he had been in their training sessions?
Getting fingered was totally out of the question with those claws of his. Just thinking about them shoved inside was both thrilling and worrisome. There was a lot of delicate tissue down there!
Lex spent her time pacing around her tiny room until she made the trip back to the bathing room. Seeing that it was safe and clear, she disrobed and sank into the pool-sized tub.
A good soak solved everything.
~❤️•❤️•❤️~
Lex's muscles worked hard as she pulled herself up to set her foot on the closest foothold. A quick glance down showed that she had to be at least two stories high by now. The room was still empty so she was able to freely concentrate.
She needed it.
Free soloing was dangerous.
There was no margin for error. Every move had to be precise and carefully executed. Utter patience was vital. Many years had passed since she had free soloed.
The last time had been El Capitan in Yosemite National Park in 2001, prior to the events of that September. After that, it was difficult to get around by plane for obvious reasons, so her travels to various places around the world to climb or lead expeditions had been limited.
After the day's events...Lex needed this.
She was sluggish and awkward in combat but this was where she shined. Her skills were mountaineering, ice, rock climbing, and navigating dangerous terrain — not fighting. The fact that the Yautja even had a rock climbing wall was exciting. It was a chance to push herself to the limit in a familiar setting.
Yautja were huge compared to her, so the placements of the foot holds were wide apart, but she never backed down from a challenge. As a young adult she had scaled mountains people dreamed of.
This was just another challenge to tackle and overcome. A challenge was forcing her to use every ounce of her ingenuity and skill with climbing. There was no safety harness, no clips, no helmet, and no chalk. It was entirely on her own strength to scale it.
If only Scar could see her doing something she was actually good at. Maybe then he would look at her the way she looked at him...
Sighing to herself, she focused on the task at hand. A wandering mind could mean death with no gear. There could be no fuck ups.
Her hand found the next closest hold and then she quickly found the next hold for her foot. Up she climbed, her blood singing with the challenge. The muscles in her body ached, but it was a good ache. That kind of ache that she craved. She needed it.
Anything to distract from Scar.
"That blind alien can shove it where the sun don't shine." Lex muttered out loud. "I'll show that blind asshole. I'm like Beyoncé. I don't need any man or anybody!"
The anger and hurt bubbling within rose higher and higher, fueling her strength. All of her mixed emotions pushed her to keep going. Her body sang from the intense workout.
"As my dad always said, 'Instead of worrying how hard it gets, climb that mountain. Overcome it!' I may not ever get the attention from him I crave, but I will endure." Higher and higher she climbed, fast approaching her destination, the top of the climbing wall.
At last, she propelled herself up and onto the top, turning to survey the huge training room. The lights were dim due to the night cycle, the warm air slick on her skin, and the scent of victory hanging in a cloud above the woman. Lex stood tall and smiled to herself.
"There is no mountain I cannot climb, for I will come out on top of it."
As someone had once told her, the best view comes after the hardest climb.
For a while she sat on the wide black top of the wall, letting her body rest up for the climb back down. She had climbed the wall in her sports bra and underwear since the training room was always a bit hot and she needed to be able to move freely. Doing it damn near naked had made it much easier.
It was in the middle of the "night" so the ship was quiet and the majority of activity was minimal at best. No one trained at night, so she would take the opportunity to slip in extra training.
Losing a bit of sleep sucked but at least she could push herself to prove she was worthy of Scar's attention. Nighttime had also always been when she was most productive. This time of day was relaxing and there was no one to bug her.
Peaceful was the night.
Deciding that she had rested long enough, she pulled the rope she had brought with her from the clip at her waist and attached one end securely to a hook near the edge of the wall while the other end fell freely to the floor. She got a good grip of the rope, a thick black material, and began her descent. It was slow and a long way down but eventually she got to the point where she ran out of rope.
Below her was seven or so feet of free fall. Such a drop was sure to potentially hurt her ankles, but she took the chance and kept going until the very end of the rope.
Taking a deep breath, she angled her body at the right angle and let go. For a few seconds she fell, the ground quickly rushing up in her face. At the last few moments she rolled and landed in a tuck & roll where she was able to pop up in a squat on the ground safe.
"Nailed it." Breathed Lex in relief.
She yanked the rope and sent it falling in a heap; the knot she used easily undone when pulled a certain way. Once she had it wound up and neatly tied, she placed it back on a shelf where she had found it.
To make the most of her time she moved on to practicing the maneuvers Scar had been drilling over the past week and a half...or was it two? Time was difficult to tell with no clocks and only her busted up watch. The days had started to blend together. Most of her time had been spent training and learning the language. Free time was typically nonexistent during the day.
Over and over she slowly went through the right motions, making sure she had them absolutely right.
Scar had frequently told her that in a real fight for her life there would be no margin for error. Much like when free soloing, every move had to be carefully calculated.
~❤️•❤️•❤️~
A while had passed as she practiced the moves over and over again. Her body was nearing its limit. It felt like the more she repeated the moves, the more she struggled. Eventually she found herself too tired to go on and after gathering her water skin she made the long trek back to her quarters.
The ship's hallway was dimly lit, strips of red lights near the floor casted weird shadows.
After surviving the pyramid on Bouvetøya she hated the shadows and what they could hide. Even with her being on a spaceship full of Yautja, literal experts with killing them, she could still hear the hissing. Sebastian had been dragged to his death by those things.
Every last one of them.
Gone.
Because of those things.
Those...kiande amedha.
The serpents.
As if her mood wasn't bad enough, as soon as she rounded the corner where her room was, Scar was waiting by her door. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossing over his chest, watching her approach.
She couldn't help the flutter of her heart at the sight of him. Like always he looked magnificent. No part of him that wasn't bulging with muscle. A simple black loincloth covered his groin as her only saving grace of having to wonder what he hid under there.
"H-Hi, Scar." Lex keyed in the code for her quarters, glancing up at him as he loomed over her. She motioned inside with a wave of her hand, "Would you like to come in?"
He had yet to say a word, nodding. And so he followed as she entered the room, the futuristic door sliding shut behind Scar.
She felt bad that she only had her bed for him to sit on. It also unnerved her that he had never seen her so...naked. Damn near nude! The clothing she wore was minimal and scant.
Those yellow eyes of his lingered on her form as she moved items around for him to sit. He said some words under his breath that she didn't understand when she told him to take a seat.
"Back on Earth, I'd be able to be a better host, so my apologies."
Scar cocked his head to the side in question, "I do not understand."
Right...his customs are way different than my own...
Tentatively she sat next to him, wrapping a fur around herself to cover her scantily clad body. "Well, on Earth, in the...uhh...clan I'm in...we would offer a drink or something to eat for guests. It's considered polite to make your guests feel comfortable. That's why I apologized. It's...habit." She worked to comb her hair, now down to her shoulder blades, and brought it into a ponytail.
He was silent as he soaked in her words. After a few moments he grunted.
He was a man of few words.
"Yautja offer c'ntlip, an alcoholic beverage." His deep voice was rough around the edges but she didn't mind. It was him.
"Ah, well, humans only offer alcohol when we want to have a good time."
Another grunt.
"What's on your mind, Scar?" Being careful with his claws, she took his large hand in her small and intertwined their fingers.
The sight was almost comical since his hand dwarfed hers by a lot, but she liked the difference. It was unique and something she had come to not mind so much. Such a size difference didn't matter.
A few of his long black locs fell forward over his broad shoulders as he leaned towards her. His body was angled towards her as he reached out to stroke the mark on her cheek, the very same one he had placed there.
Gentle purring rumbled in his great chest as he inched closer. The nearness of his body to hers when they weren't sparring made her blood sing with happiness. Whether he noticed or not, he didn't show. He continued to stroke her cheek gently, his finger trailing down her jaw and delicate neck. Left behind in the wake of his touch were goosebumps.
Lex held her breath as he leaned ever closer.
"Despite what you think, you are improving. You have come a long way, Alexa." For some reason his voice sounded like a purr, deep and growly. Her body reacted just as expected, that coil tightening in her lower belly.
Scar continued to speak, his eyes widening so slightly that she didn't notice. "You will never be as strong as Yautja, but your strength lies in your cunning and small stature. Learn to be confident in that and you will go far."
She wanted to ask why he continued to openly flirt with females if he thought so much about her.
Why do you ignore my want for you in the favor of them? Am I not good enough after all?
"Perhaps...one day I can compete with the females of your kind."
Ha! Take that, Scar!
The big oaf drew back and turned his gaze to anywhere but her. There was a slight tinge of green to his concave cheeks, his hand tugging free of hers so he could scratch as his crest. She had known him long enough now to notice he did that when he was nervous or feeling awkward.
A few times during training sessions, he had pinned her down in...intimate positions. Per usual, her body reacted sexually and her hips had grinded against him much to her embarrassment. His reaction had been to freeze, his body pressing against hers for just a moment before he backed off. Naturally, she wanted to tug on his long locs, the few that had fallen over her shoulders, and bring him closer.
The thought was gone in a flash, however, when he removed himself from the situation. There had been a lot of apologizing and lying about it being a "natural reaction for human females". Any white lie she could think of to save the embarrassment.
"Yautja females are..." he continued in his native tongue, possibly trying to find the right words.
Once again Alex tried to meet him halfway by speaking in his language to the best of her ability.
"Larger?"
"Sei'i, but there is another word I seek."
"Scary? Mean? Attractive? Funny?"
Scar growled in frustration, his mandibles twitching and causing his tusks to make that familiar clicking noise.
"They are complicated." His broad shoulders sagged in relief and finding the word he wanted. "You, Lex, are not."
Complicated? What's that supposed to mean?
Lex racked her brain for what he could possibly mean by that and was about to ask him but he stood up abruptly. His face looked...tense? Flustered?
She was still learning how to read his face. The way he and his kind showed emotions was subtle and different than she was used to. Closely watching his face for the subtleties helped to solve that.
Understanding him better was why she had found herself falling for him. He and his kind were so much...deeper than she had thought. This large alien that was both sure and unsure of himself was adorable in his own way. She couldn't help finding his sudden nervousness cute. He was like an overgrown cat.
Aloof.
Scar quickly made his way to the door. His hand was over the door panel to open it when she stopped him, her hand catching his hand. He paused to look down at her, chittering in question.
"Wait, you don't have to leave. You just got here!" Lex smiled, running her fingers gently across his palm.
The large alien turned to chirrup at her, his eyes bright as he stood there. "It is late. I must rest."
"I would be happy if you stayed with me for the night, hun."
His purred like a giant cat as he stood there weighing the options. He chittered to himself with words she didn't know, talking to himself it seemed. She was hoping he would stay for the night so she could snuggle with him.
Too bad he disappointed her by ultimately saying no, his long black locs swishing back and forth as he shook his head.
"I cannot. Sleep well, Lex." He waved his hand over the access panel and swiftly made his exit.
Lex sat on her bed with a defeated sigh. She had been so close to enjoying his company a little longer, but like usual, he turned her down and made his great escape.
His words had her questioning if maybe she was misunderstanding his actions. If he had such nice words to say about her, then what was he doing trying to get the attention of female Yautja and ignoring the obvious signs she wanted him? Was there some cultural divide she wasn't aware of? Surely, that had to be the issue.
She normally was great with men; all except this one.
An alien man.
Groaning in frustration, she lied on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She decided to sleep in what she wore and snuggled beneath the large fur pelt that acted as a warm blanket. Sleep was in order before she could solve the mystery of Scar.
86 notes · View notes
uraveragelonelygay · 3 years
Text
Deserve
Pairing: WandaNat x Reader
Summary: Sometimes your doubts and insecurities become too much to handle. But your girlfriends will always be there to remind you how much you mean to them.
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: Talk of insecurities and negative thoughts! I don’t straight up mention the reader having depression, but it’s very much implied so read with caution please!
A/N: hey besties! its very much been awhile, so im sorry about that lol, my life has been hella hectic. but please enjoy this fic, it is more wholesome than i thought so that’s good! i cant promise to be more active, because school is a lot rn, but i will post when i can :) enjoy!
*********************************************************************************
As soon as you woke up that morning. you knew it would be one of those days. One of the days where your insecurities were louder than your logic. One of the days where your anxieties seeped into your mind, infesting every memory, every positive thought, until all you were left with was doubt, loneliness, and no motivation to even leave your bed. One of the days where you questioned your worth.
Feeling too heavy from the battle your mind was fighting to leave your bed, you rolled over, only to be reminded of the absence of your girlfriends. They had been assigned on a week-long mission five days prior.
Your girlfriends. Tears sprung to your eyes at the thought of them. So kind, so loving, so supportive. So much more than you could ever possibly deserve.
Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow. So strong, so powerful, so fierce. And yet, the fiery red-headed ex-assassin was so soft with you. Her badass facade dropped so quickly when it came to you and Wanda. She would spend her days fighting criminals and aliens, and then come home and wrap you in her arms, her green eyes always filled with love at your presence. She had a laugh that instantly made your heart feel ten times lighter. A smile that made your stomach flutter. All reserved for you and Wanda.
Wanda Maximoff. The Scarlet Witch. She had a world of power at her fingertips, and yet you knew she would never harm a hair on your head. She, too, was soft. Soft brown hair flowing over your face when she would lay on top of you, kissing you lovingly, soft smiles when she would come home to find you cuddled up on the couch, soft laughs when you would make fun of the cheesy rom-coms she would choose during movie nights with you and Natasha.
The two avengers loved you with all they had. They fought global threats on the daily, sometimes even universal threats, and here you were being taken down by your own mind.
They deserve so much better.
You couldn’t help but think about how difficult it must be to love you. You were a clingy, insecure, anxious mess. You constantly needed reassurance and physical affection. You could barely do a cartwheel, let alone fight a whole army of aliens or HYDRA soldiers. You were weak. You were worthless. They must be so ashamed to have to deal with someone like you.
Tears were painting your cheeks now, your eyes silently leaking as you stared at the wall numbly.
And then you heard the sound of your apartment door opening and closing.
It wasn’t long after that you heard a gasp echo through the hallway. You weren’t too surprised, considering how your thoughts were drowning you right now, you could only assume they were fairly loud.
A soft knock sounded on your shared bedroom door.
“Lyubov? Can we come in, sweetheart?” Natasha’s voice sounded, but you didn’t hear. You were too busy being suffocated by your own doubts and anxieties. You were so weak.
The door opened slowly, and in came the two women, their hearts breaking at the sight of you wrapped under the blankets, trembling. They had seen enough of these days to know what was happening. They knew running over in a panic would simply lead you to spiral more, leaving you feeling like a burden that they need to attend to as quickly as possible. So they gently and calmly approached you, their eyes full of concern.
You felt the bed dip on either side of you, two warm bodies surrounding your own, holding you close. Natasha ran her fingers through your hair as Wanda’s arm was draped across your stomach, her thumb gently caressing your hip bone.
The gesture of the two women holding you so gently and lovingly overwhelmed you, causing you to exhale shakily, trying to push away all the emotions you were feeling.
“We’ve got you, lyubov. We’re here. We will always be here,” Wanda cooed softly, kissing your temple.
Your body shook as every single doubt that had tried to swallow you whole finally caused the dam to break. Your body wracked with sobs, as your heart clenched in pain. Your hands went to cover your face, but Nat grabbed them, kissing them softly and holding them.
“We love you so much, sweetheart,” she whispered.
The two continued to hold you as you cried, both of them softly speaking words of encouragement and love to you until you stopped shaking.
When your tears died down, Natasha and Wanda sat up, bringing you with them. You rested your head on Wanda’s shoulder, Natasha still holding your hands.
You took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
“About what, detka?” Natasha asked, caressing your hands with her thumbs.
“About all of this. I’m so fucking messy,” you laughed humorlessly.
“Hey. Don’t talk about our girlfriend like that,” Wanda said, gently pushing your shoulder with hers.
Natasha nodded. “Our girl is the most sweet, beautiful, strong woman you will ever meet,” she says, kissing your shoulder.
“I don’t deserve you,” you mumbled, but your girlfriends heard you loud and clear.
“Y/N.” Natasha said sternly, but you merely shrugged.
“Do you wanna know something?” She asked, and you moved your head to look at her, silently cuing her to continue.
“All my life I never had a choice. I was always told what to do and when to do it. So when I finally broke free and was able to make my own choices? Well, I chose very carefully. My choices became very important to me, including choosing who and what I do and don’t deserve. But choosing you and Wanda? It was the easiest decision I’ve ever made. A decision I will never regret, for as long as I live, I swear it on my life,” she said, her eyes holding nothing but sincerity.
“And for me?” Wanda began, causing you to shift your attention to her, “It was really hard to love anyone after Pietro. I had lost every single person I cared about. It seemed that everyone I loved was bound to disappear. And then I met you and Natasha. I always thought that I would never be able to get close to anyone ever again, but loving you and Nat came so easily. You both became everything to me. I will never regret opening up to you two, and making you mine. Never. And that’s a promise,” she finished, her eyes holding the same sincerity Natasha’s did.
By the end of both of their speeches your eyes were now flooded with tears, but for a new reason now: because you were overwhelmed with a feeling of love.
“I love you both, so much,” you choked out, another sob erupting from your throat.
“I love you more, my sweet girl,” Wanda replied, her eyes glassy with her own tears.
Natasha blinked furiously as tears seemed to fill her eyes as well. “Fuck you both for making me cry,” she joked as she wiped at her eyes before smiling at you softly. “But I love you too, malyshka.”
Natasha and Wanda then embraced you with a hug filled with so much love and adoration that you thought your heart might burst.
And as the two kissed away your tears, whispering how much they loved you, one thing became clear:
After all the shit you three had been through, 
You deserved each other.
*********************************************************************************
581 notes · View notes