#fake unit patch

[deathwise]

if you got shot by a manpads in a flight sim it was probably one of these little fuckers

#myart #13th low altitude air defense battalion #fake unit patch #my friends have been getting into vtol vr in a big way #so i made this because i root for the stingers #i have definitely made better looking unit patches #but i wanted to one and done this thing

[frostgears]

the chosen one

there are handlers that went to officer school and supposedly know what the fuck they're doing, all swagger with the authority of the Service behind them, uniforms like slices of space, voices like knives, their lethal charges trailing docile behind them.

they're the ones that show up in the porn sketches and the short clips of grainy video that circulate in the Fleet network. they're the ones that have pages and pages of fan fiction written about them.

then there's you. you didn't go to officer school. your entire signup process was this:

"hey, Cooper, you were in its old unit, weren't you? before it went to the lab? remember anything that'd distract it from biting at its own link sockets and screaming at techs?"

"uh, shit, sir, i can try…"

"great, it wandered into the rec room. go nuts."

you called your last conversation to mind. there'd been two major rec time activities in your last squad, and the alert that kicked off Paloma 17 had interrupted something.

you sat down next to the thing that had once been your squadmate, not meeting its weird red eyes. you already knew it didn't like that; looking it in the face was how Muñoz got their arm broken yesterday.

the augment whiffed of human sweat, the fake citrus of type-2 interface gel, something musty and unpleasant. its fatigues probably hadn't been washed ever.

"hey, asshole," you said, "you still owe me a Kinetic Princess match. best of five, remember? we were two and one when the hammer came down for P-17."

you put a gamepad on the floor next to it.

"ch. ch. ch."

was it laughing?

it swatted the gamepad away.

and then player 2's character select screen came up. without moving a muscle, it picked Valkyrie, switched her outfit to red, and handed you your ass, twice in a row, with no apparent exertion.

"ch. ch. ch."

yeah, it was laughing.

it kept laughing as it used its onboard hardware to disconnect your gamepad, choose the princess you'd just been playing, and win three matches against itself, beating Valkyrie with Marjoram.

again.

three-one.

three-zero.

three-one.

"well," someone said behind you, "that's kinda freaky. but better than tearing up the couch. guess you're on augment duty."

it was going all out. maybe trying to prove some sort of point. to itself? to you?

you got up.

it immediately paused the game.

"hey," you told it, "i gotta piss."

it followed you down the hall into the restroom. it tried to follow you into the stall.

"hah, you find a friend, Acey?" someone laughed.

"shut the fuck up, Lima." you tried to finish your business as best you could. it wasn't easy. the thing really did reek and it was not giving you a lot of space.

fuck it. you rose, didn't bother to wipe. you grabbed the augment and hauled it into the shower, spun the dial to hot, drenched the both of you, fatigues and all.

"wooooo! take it off!"

always a fucking audience in this place.

you found the zippers to strip the thing, flung wet clothing out of the shower at a spectator, pumped all-purpose soap into your hands.

"if you're gonna follow me around," you told the augment, "you gotta smell better."

this had to get done. you soaped it. all over. the generic floral smell of all-purpose soap was definitely an improvement already. felt human enough under your hands, except where it wasn't, the occasional beveled edge of a link socket. between its legs… human standard.

more hooting and hollering from the onlookers.

you remembered too late not to meet its eyes, but it just stared back at you, tilting its head a bit. no sign of aggression. was it smiling?

you never got around to the second major rec time activity with your old squadmate. you had no idea if she was ever interested. you also had no idea if sexual preferences survived augmentation.

fuck it. audentes fortuna iuvat, right? said so on your shoulder patch.

you slid a finger in.

shut the audience right up.

the thing kept staring at you.

you slipped a second finger in and stared back right up until you finished it off. it shivered visibly, made a sort of low whine.

nobody said shit after that. when you finally shut off the water, silence like a library.

you walked out. it trailed behind you. you grabbed a towel off the stack by the shower exit, wrapped the thing in it. it didn't protest. wearing nothing but your own towel, you stalked back to your bunk, hoping you still had a few clean uniforms, your expression daring anyone to mention that a single thing was out of the ordinary.

"heyyyyyy Acey, you get lu—"

someone always dared. this fucking unit.

the augment hissed. an unmodified human throat wouldn't have been able to make that noise; it sounded like a fire extinguisher. there was reverb in that hiss. there were teeth.

"oh, gods, just don't," you said wearily, looking back over your shoulder. it let Chroma, who had a tiny bit of sense in her head, back away slowly, in one piece.

anyway, that's how you became a handler. the pay bump is nice, your CO says you've been fast-tracked for officer school someday, and more to the point, the augment has already saved your whole squad at least three times.

but you have not once showered alone since that day, and you know it'd be a really, really bad idea to ever refuse a game of Kinetic Princess. that's just how it is when your real MOS is "weapon's favorite person". □

#empty spaces #dollposting #microfiction #combat doll

[sgstories123]

Jaz in her FBT

“Hi Jaz!”

Jaz looked up as she opened the door to her HBD flat. Lincoln was slumped in the sofa, a Tiger in his hand, as he greeted her lazily. Her brother laid flat on the other end of the sofa, with his hands and legs spread out, dangling from the sofa. His shirt was rolled up halfway, exposing his abs and his trail of pubic hair. Several empty cans of Tiger were on the table and floor.

“Booked out from camp yesterday?” Jaz asked. When she went for her morning jog at 7 am, she had not seen her brother or Lincoln. They must have gone somewhere after booking out before coming back to her flat while she was out.

Lincoln looked at Jaz and his cock stirred. She was dressed in a red FBT ladies tank top, her sweat glistening from her toned, bronze body. There were dark patches, outlining her sports bra. As Jaz turned around, he could see her long, slender legs extending from her black FBT shorts. Her ass was wrapped tightly against the black FBT shorts, her two perfect globes swaying gently as she moved towards him, putting down her packet of breakfast of Chee Cheong Fun on the table next to Lincoln.

“Yeah. We went out with Hazel and stayed at her place till this morning.” Lincoln replied.

Lincoln was her brother’s good friend at the polytechnic. They were posted to the same unit for their NS and often went out together during their book-outs. Hazel was their friend at the polytechnic too but she is also her brother’s current girlfriend. Jaz did not particularly like Hazel as she thought she was a little bit of a bimbo. Hazel was often on TikTok wearing tight, revealing clothes and spouting nonsense in a fake accent.

“Is he drunk? Or just sleeping?” Jaz nodded towards her brother.

“Both. He drank quite a bit but he did not sleep much last night, so he might be also tired.” Lincoln replied.

Jaz sat down next to Lincoln and took up a can of the cold beer. Maybe Chee Chiong Fun for breakfast was a wrong choice. A can of cold beer after her morning job seemed more palatable. “So what was he so busy with that he did not sleep last night?” Jaz asked, taking a sip of the cold beer.

“Your brother was fucking Hazel throughout the night, releasing all his accumulated sperm for the week.” Lincoln smiled naughtily. “She was moaning so loudly that her voice became hoarse and couldn’t speak properly this morning.”

“How you know? You watched them fucking?” Jaz asked, putting the cold beer can on her cheeks. She could feel her body getting warm.

“Yeah. They were doing it throughout the night in the bedroom with the door open. It was a free show.” Lincoln laughed.

“You never join them.” Jaz felt her love juices flowing as she imagined her brother and Hazel fucking through the night. She put the cold beer can between her thighs to relieve the desire emanating from her lower body, her FBT shorts drenched in the cold condensation. She seemed to be perspiring again, as she felt her sweat dripping off her forehead.

Lincoln inched closer towards Jaz. “Of course I want to, but Hazel is your brother’s girlfriend. Can watch but cannot touch.” He put his hand around Jaz and pulled her closer, kissing her on the cheeks. “But I can touch you and fuck you, right?”

“What the fuck!” Jaz pushed Lincoln away.

“What’s wrong, Jaz? It is not the first time we kissed.” Lincoln edged closer.

“That was only because I lost a bet.” Jaz had betted with Lincoln several months ago that her brother and Hazel will break up once he got enlisted in NS. Jaz did not think that Hazel is someone who would be serious in any relationship. But she was surprised when after 3 months, they were still together.

Lincoln had asked for a kiss for winning the bet. Jaz had tried to wriggle her way out of the bet but Lincoln had been insistent. Two weeks ago, when Lincoln was at their place and her brother was taking a bath, she allowed him to kiss her. It was a long kiss, with Lincoln tongue wrestling her for almost 10 minutes. Jaz thought it was a little too much of a sacrifice for a bet but she did enjoy it somewhat as Lincoln was a good kisser. She almost wanted to fuck him then as she was so aroused at the end of the kiss. But she did not tell him or anyone about it.

Jaz shook herself free of the memory of Lincoln’s kiss and her lust. She drained her beer in one gulp and stood up. She walked to the kitchen and took down the plates from the top of the kitchen sink. Lincoln followed her and hugged her from behind. He kissed the back of her neck, stroking her hair gently. He drew a line seductively with his finger, from the top of her ear down to her upper back, just above her tank top. He pressed himself against her back and rubbed his body against her.

She wanted to push him away but did not. Maybe it was the beer. Maybe she was aroused from the story on how her brother had been having sex with Hazel the whole night. Or maybe she had not gotten over how Lincoln had kissed her. Her knees grew weak and she held on to the kitchen sink for support, sighing softly.

Lincoln sensed the change and held on to her even more tightly, his arm around her waist as he bent her forwards. He turned her head upwards, giving her the kiss that she had been waiting for, his tongue doing its magic, exploring and lighting up every nook and cranny in her mouth. Jaz gave up resisting and opened her mouth wider to receive him.

Lincoln unzipped his jeans and took out his hard cock. He pressed it hard against her black FBT shorts, sliding between the two perfect globes of her ass. Jaz could feel the hard, warm cock pressing against her ass. She turned around and was surprised at the size of Lincoln’s cock. It was much larger than her ex.

“I am going to fuck you and empty one week’s worth of semen into you.” Lincoln whispered.

“No. You are too big.” Jaz cried, her heart pounding so hard that she was feeling faint.

Lincoln slid his hands between Jaz’s thighs. Moving upwards, he parted the inner lining of her FBT shorts and reached her smooth slit easily. Jaz was not wearing any panties and had shaved her pussy. What a whore, Lincoln smiled to himself.

Jaz was already wet, her juices overflowing from her vagina. As Lincoln’s fingers rubbed against her smooth, lubricated lower lips, they easily entered her. Jaz’s gasped as the fingers filled her waiting hole. As Lincoln started to finger fuck her, Jaz moaned louder, her body rocked forward uncontrollably in simulated love-making.

“I want to fuck you, please.” Lincoln whispered urgently. “My cock is not big. Your brother’s is much bigger and he could fuck Hazel all night long.”

“No, Lincoln.” Jaz gasped unconvincingly. “You have to stop now.” But her body was giving a different set of signals. Pleasure coursed through her lower body as Lincoln’s fingers thrust deeper into her. Her legs were hardly able to keep her standing.

Lincoln was pushing himself harder and faster against the smooth fabric of Jaz’s FBT shorts. He had wanted to stimulate Jaz until she allowed him to fuck her. But he could not hold back his orgasm that was threatening to overflow any moment. With one final thrust, he hugged her tightly, pushing her against the sink, her upper body bent forwards onto the kitchen top. He ejaculated streams of white semen all across Jaz’s black FBT shorts, marking Jaz as his prey. Some of it went further, tainting the red tank top and her hair with white globules of his semen.

Lincoln bent forwards to kiss Jaz. His cock still hard, he continued rubbing it against her black FBT shorts, now coated with his thick layer of semen. Still hugging her from behind, he pulled off Jaz’s tank top. He licked her body, tasting the salt off her bronze, toned body. He pushed up her sports bra, releasing the twin mounds of flesh as he squeezed them. As he continued to kiss her, his fingers alternated between stimulating her nipples and her cunt. Jaz was moaning louder, her body shaking and convulsing in pleasure.

“Let me fuck you.” Lincoln pleaded.

“No, Lincoln. I can’t take such a big cock.” Jaz moaned.

“But it is not so big. Come on, you are going to enjoy it.” Lincoln tried to convince Jaz. “Hazel was enjoying your brother’s large dick the whole of last night. Don’t you want some of that too?”

But Jaz was not even listening to Lincoln. She was moving close towards her release. She moaned loudly, her body arching upwards as she pushed her ass against Lincoln’s cock. Grasping the kitchen sink for support, she squirted all over the kitchen floor and Lincoln’s arm as her orgasm rocked through her body with pleasure.

Jaz slumped down from the kitchen sink, tired and satisfied.

Lincoln licked the sweet juice off his fingers. He had not given up yet. He stood nearer to Jaz, his erect cock in front of her face. “Look, I can give you even more pleasure by fucking you. It is not so big, much smaller than your brother’s. I want to fuck you so badly.” 

“No. It is too scary. You are going to rip me in half.” Jaz argued but her eyes could not look away from the magnificent cock, with the thick veins coursing along the shaft and the large bulbous head peeking out proudly through the opening from the layer of cock skin. “I can give you a hand job instead.”

Jaz grabbed the thick, long cock. She stroked it slowly as it was already well lubricated from Lincoln’s semen. It was really too big as her hand could not even cover it completely.

Lincoln sighed in pleasure as Jaz’s soft warm hands engulfed his manhood. It felt so different from rubbing against the FBT shorts.

He closed his eyes and he moaned in pleasure. “Suck it, Jaz.”

Jaz licked the tip of the cock tentatively, sending a tingle of pleasure across Lincoln’s body as the warm tongue made contact. He held onto Jaz’s head instinctively, forcing her to take his cock deeper.

Jaz resisted, pushing Lincoln’s body away. But it was half-hearted effort on her part. She was too mesmerised by his cock to stop sucking it. She found herself wanting more of the cock, sucking deeper and more frequently. Finally, she took the whole cock in, the tip reaching the back of her mouth. Lincoln pumped himself faster into Jaz’s mouth and without warning, shot his second load of semen. Jaz gagged, trying to push herself away from Lincoln but he held onto her head tight. She had no choice but to swallow his semen, as his cock pulsated long, hot streams down her throat. As his pleasure left him, Lincoln released Jaz’s head. Her mouth was full of his semen, parts of it leaking out from the corner of her mouth. Lincoln smiled. Damn. That was so erotic like some Japanese porn.

Jaz laid on the floor, exhausted. She was still wearing her semen-stained black FBT shorts but her upper body was naked, except for the sports bra hanging round her neck. Lincoln admired her body and her small round breasts. His cock became hard again. He removed his remaining clothes and laid on top of Jaz, his hard cock rubbing against the front of her FBT shorts, knocking hard on its final destination, pleading to be let through the gates of pleasure.

“I want to fuck you, Jaz.” Lincoln pleaded again, as his hands squeezed her breasts.

Jaz was too tired to fight back. “Okay. But please do it slowly. You are too big.”

Lincoln pulled down her black FBT shorts and guided his hard cock into her waiting hole. It went in easily as her hole was already well lubricated with her love juice. Jaz moaned and her fingers dug into Lincoln’s back as pain and pleasure coursed through her. Lincoln eased himself slowly into her, kissing Jaz continuously as his cock reached deeper into her. His whole shaft completely engulfed within Jaz, he took a moment to enjoy the warmth around his cock before fucking her.

Jaz was moaning louder and louder with each thrust. Lincoln was glad that he already ejaculated twice. Jaz’s hole was so pleasurable, her smooth shaved pussy so erotic that he doubted he could have lasted long. Even then, he felt his orgasm approaching and with several deep thrusts, he ejaculated for the third time, his whole week’s worth of semen finally spent. He collapsed onto Jaz, as he hugged and kissed her.

Jaz was zombified. Everything around her was a blur. Lincoln’s cock had given her so much pleasure that now that it was over, everything seemed to become meaningless. It was like after the high of a drug had passed and everything lost colour.

“Thanks Jaz. I have always wanted to fuck you. Let’s do this again.” Lincoln stroked her hair as he got up and dressed himself.

Jaz did not know how long she stayed in the stupefied state but when she regained some strength, she realised her black FBT was missing. Lincoln must have taken it as a souvenir.

She walked out to the living room where her brother was still sleeping on the sofa. She had only her sports bra on. Her lower body was naked and Lincoln’s semen left a stain from her cunt all the way down her thighs.

She pulled down her brother’s jeans. Lincoln was right. Her brother had an even bigger cock. Her heart pounded hard and she could feel herself feeling faint again. Now she knew why Hazel stayed with her brother and why she lost the bet. Jaz felt her love juices overflowing from her vagina again. She inched her face forwards to take a closer look at her brother’s hard cock, taking in the musty smell. There was a strong hint of the vigorous love-making session the night before as she could detect the familiar scent of her brother’s semen.

[hyatoro]

Franklin Russell

ChildhoodFriend!Yandere.

Starting off with a classic. 

Appearance: 5’7”, Brown hair, brown eyes, light tan, wears a lot of knits and stuff. Cozy clothes. Medium build. (Picrew Image at bottom)

Setting: Suburban United States

You can call him whatever you want, Frankie, Frank, Franklin. Preferably yours? lolol All of your friends have to call him Frank or Franklin though. If anyone calls him Frankie he corrects them quickly, saying that it’s reserved for you and his family (but you’re already family since he plans on marrying you anyway).

He grew up normally, having been raised well by a loving family. He has two older sisters who also treat you like a little sibling. He doesn’t mind sharing you with his family cause they taught him early on that sharing is caring (lol not in his mind), so he’s become tolerant of it. 

In that same vein he also gets along with your other friends that you two made as you grew up, but he doesn’t hold them to the same esteem as you. Everyone can tell he likes you the most, but they chalk it all up to y’all being childhood friends and that he’s just the most comfortable with you. Which it IS but also not. 

Never really hangs out with them unless you’re there, though he doesn’t leave if they find him so that’s why they never really noticed it before. Like they’ll find him at the library working on his stuff and hang with him, so in their head it’s like “yeah me and Frank have hung out by ourselves before we get along fine”. 

Uses his childhood friend privileges to enter your house uninvited. It’s fine, he was given a key. So he’s not the kind of yandere to break into your home, but he’d definitely think about it if the conditions were right (you move out of your childhood home but don’t give him a spare key so he lockpicks and gaslights you into thinking you left it unlocked cause you’re used to him just being where you live so you’re not as alarmed as you should be if he were a stranger.) And his gaslighting isn’t malicious either. It’s the kind that your friends would do if they were obviously fucking with you. “Lol what the hell are you talking about? Why the hell would I do that when I could just call you to let me in?” But it’s this friend privilege that gets abused if you look at the bigger picture. But you aren’t, don’t worry about it. 

You grow up so close that sometimes you’re too lazy to kick him out of your room if you want to change so you tell him to turn around and close his eyes. You trust him. And you should, to listen to you that is. He does exactly that and only turns around when you let him, but he engraves the sounds of your clothes shuffling around into his memory each time to fuel his nightly passions. 

Thinks you’re the funniest person and laughs at most of your jokes. You know your joke sucked if even he doesn’t laugh. Even worse if he gives you this fake ass smile and you get rowdy cause “don’t you dare give me your pity”. 

Sometimes cries when you make an effort to participate in some of his hobbies even when he knows you don’t care for them. It just means so much. He likes embroidery, knitting, crocheting, and other fiber based crafts. When you made him a crochet flower he burst into tears and patched it into his next project. Cherishes it forever. 

Honestly the only reason why he’s never asked you out is because he kind of already sees you two as a set pair already. Like there’s not really a need to ask questions he already knows(?) the answers to y’know? 

Most people are deterred when they see the way he clings to you anyway, already assuming you’re taken. And honestly your life and sail fairly smoothly like this.

But when someone who doesn’t know him, say you meet someone while he’s busy and they haven’t seen the way he glues himself to you, shows interest or, god forbid, asks you out, then he is shocked. Gobsmacked. Flabbergasted. At first he doesn’t know what to do cause this has literally never happened before. 

Then he sticks by your side more than ever. He’s clingy. He’s never leaving you open to flirtatious advances ever again. You don’t even need to think about responding to their confession. Was there something you liked about them? He does his best to change to become more your type. 

In more extreme cases he would go as far as dyeing his hair, getting piercings (to a certain extent. He’s still somewhat his own person), and even getting tattoos. Which in his tastes, isn’t really part of his aesthetics. But he’d do it. 

If you suggest getting matching tattoos/matching ear piercings, then he kind of just assumes that it’s y'all getting pseudo-married. Behaves as such. 

Part of the reason why he’s still somewhat normal is because he is the youngest with two older sisters, and that does things to a motherfucker so he knows how to behave. And he knows how to fall back in line. 

Borrows your clothes all the time with zero remorse. Bigger or smaller than him it doesn’t matter he will take what he can. Don’t ask about the underwear he knows nothing about it (it’s under this secret flap in his dresser drawers. Third one down on the right.) 

Loves loves loves your casual affection with him. You always protected him when you were kids so he loves viewing you as his own personal hero, his savior. Grows his hair out a bit when you say it’s nice to thread your fingers through. Doesn’t grow it long cause he doesn’t like it, but would if you pampered him enough. 

He just loves letting you take control of him and taking your orders. He thrives on being subservient to you. He grew up used to getting bossed around, so it’s a comfort zone for him. Even better because it’s the object of all his affections. 

He prefers gentle domming cause the nature of this dynamic is cozy obsession. 

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/61925

#sub!yandere #dom!reader #dom reader #oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #Franklin Russell #childhoodfriend!yandere #sub yandere

[selectiveanger]

The many implications that Murder Drones Episode 7 created for the story:

1) Team JNV Disassembly Drone units are left with most of their personalities with them because they somehow always find ways to help the Absolute Solver (AS) destroy the planet. In fact, it is implied that they always lead to interesting and favorable results to the AS. What's scary is that what if the N-units always end up inflitrating settlements due to their friendliness, but it's all meant to lower the guard of any resistance.

2) Tessa has been dead/semi-dead since the beginning and Cyn has been wearing her skin to pass off as a human. This could also imply that this might be one of AS's modus operandi when infiltrating human settlements/resistances by posing as an JCJ Employee.

3) J has always known who her boss is (the AS) and has been the "getaway" for all the AS's planetary destruction endeavors. In fact, J almost slipped up and revealed Tessa's real identity in Episode 6.

4) All Murder Drone units have a clone that any deceased drones can get back to if ever they "die". This means that there is a central hub/fabrication machine where these clones are created and stored. The end may not be the end.

5) The AS can only utilize Solver powers through a vulnerable host like Nori or Uzi (while it seems that Yeva and Dolls programming are not that vulnerable due to a patch), otherwise, the AS's fallback is those meat-machine spider cores that can create those centipede-like creatures with projection abilities.

6) The reason why the AS wants to destroy the hosts is because of the possibility for the hosts to usurp the AS's powers. They are capable of acquiring control over everything the AS has, and therefore they are deemed a threat, especially if they have been patched. The AS also wanted to check the list in the Cabin Fever Basement to check if there were others, other than Nori and Yeva.

7) The Absolute Solver does not only want to end all life or end things like originally stated in Episode 5, it actually wants to eat planet cores.

8) The AS is primarily organic in nature and not machine or AI. It is only capable of invading machines by making them partially organic (converting their cores to hearts with rib cages and turning their oil to blood), and only a select set of drones (like Nori and Yeva) can be converted to this type of hybrid.

9) There was no big time-skip between Nori's death and Uzi going to school. The situation that probably set everything in motion is the death of both Yeva and Nori, which prompted the creation of the Three Doors Settlement.

10) Nori faked her death by transferring her consciousness to a Disassembly Drone AS Core. In fact, Uzi can also transfer her consciousness as well since this was shown as a joke moment in Episode 2 when she took over the body of one of her classmates.

11) In Episode 2, it was shown that Uzi as a baby had the AS symbol in one of the projections by the J-Centipede, this may imply the reason why Nori was looking for the patch in the first place. In fact, there is a shortcut to going to the Cathedral without using the elevator (as shown when J's key to the ship fell to where the Cathedral is), which Nori might've used to bypass Alice and the Sentinels. Nori might have been going down there to look for the patch even before she "died".

12) The patch updates the programming of a Drone. Removing the vulnerability that the AS exploits to take over the AI of a Drone. This patch also blocks the AS from seeing what the Drones are seeing. Unfortunately, the AS instead watched everything through Uzi and Doll's unpatched AI. This might also be the reason as to why Nori and Yeva died as their daughters might have been used as hostages. And they were allowed to die as their daughters are potential hosts.

I have other more to say but I'm tired already and too brainscrambled to think anymore. These are just theories and implications. I hope Liam provides a complete explanation in the end. And I sure do hope this isn't the only season.

#murder drones #serial designation j #serial designation v #serial designation n #uzi doorman #cyn #absolute solver #theory #disassembly drone

[gold-rhine]

I liked the bit where they did a fake out ending. To be fair I don’t know how obvious it was to other people that it was a fake out but I found the how Black Swan was like “everything that just happened was actually a dream setting up Sunday’s perfect world. Don’t worry everything but one detail in the beginning and the ending is the same.” To be an interesting twist that lets us see the hypothetical perfect world for a bit.

However it was kinda obvious. My brother kept saying there’s gotta be one more phase of the fight and how he doesn’t trust what’s going on. For me after the IPC gang showed up I started thinking “I know so far star rail has had nothing but happy endings but this is too happy of an ending.” Plus it didn’t help that if it was the real ending then they set up all this stuff with Aventurine and the IPC for nothing. I mean they did that with Sparkle but Aventurine had a while patch to himself.

Tbh I really hope that the next patch that’s probably about the IPC in Penacony ties up all the loose ends and makes Sparkle and Boothill do more than one singlet thing for the plot.

no NO listen, fake happy ending would be good if the real ending was actually meaningfully different\challenging. like rn, we just got 2 easy happy endings.

but like. lets fucking unpack that "real" ending.

step one, boothil summons his thousands of homies in like one second. like how is this not deus ex machina that they were moking in "fakeout" ending. lol. lmao even.

step two, acheron does 9\11 to like, awaken ppl due to catastrophe and have them unite against adversity. btw its not clear what exactly she did, like did she mass kill ppl?? we see explosions and sleeping bodies flying, are these ppl dead??

step three, robin sings???? and ppl just blown up by acheron supposedly unite by her song against sunday???? like, why??? sunday was not the one who just dd 9\11, hes trying to protect them, why would they turn against him????

we dont even see ppl awaken or whatever, mc just has a fight against sunday. its literally same fight as fake ending lmaooo

but like also. we did have 9\11 irl. we do know how america reacted when faced by external threat doing catastrophic damage, and it was not awakening from matrix and fixing internal problems or whatever, it was endless wars on middle east. realistically what should have happened, sunday should have been like ppl of penacony! we are under attack of evil nihility!! we need to unite against this horrible threat! I will assume all power bc its dire times of war!

and then he just runs his Order shit using excuse of fighting nihility lol. tldr bullshit, they are trying to seem gritty and deep, but doing kindergarden uwu love wins shit. ugh. what even the consequences???? like. ugh.

#rhine talks

[selfish-wanderer]

Going back to think about the Devil Survivor series, and I think that one of the things that it does best is the (sometimes not so) subtle way it talks about responsibility.

In DeSu1, the fake ending of escaping the Lockdown before the last day just gets everyone killed by a Smite. And Yuzu's ending explicitly makes the bad things extend outside the Lockdown and get worse. With her extra day giving you the chance to sort of help patch things up, but letting you screw up again.

In DeSu2, following Daichi without direction gives you a hollow version of the Kingmaker ending. The universe is free from Polaris, but now reality is just a handful of islands and an endless sea with nothing in it. With Record Breaker suggesting that the Triangulum would appear to fill in the spot anyway. And since the fate of reality itself is in your hands, you cannot advance to Record Breaker with any other route but the base game perfect ending (sort of, I know it's a separate playthrough). Which is a combination of the Kingmaker ending (the opposite of the hollow world ending), and Daichi's true route of everyone surviving thanks to your effort and having everyone's bonds be strong enough to unite against the administrator.

Additionally, the "prophets" of each game are my favorites. Both Amane and Saiduq's mindset of "I'll play my role be it with or against you" really compliments the game. Especially in how your goals almost never oppose theirs, but they still believe things have to happen in a certain way.

#smt #shin megami tensei #devil survivor #devil survivor overclocked #devil survivor 2 #devil survivor 2 record breaker #desu #desu 2 #kazuya mineguishi #hibiki kuze #amane kuzuryu #al saiduq #mineguishi kazuya #kuze hibiki #anguished one #kuzuryu amane

[apphiarothowrites]

So white beard doesn’t want women to fight but in the flashbacks Whitey bay was absolutely fighting with the crew

So in honor of this plot hole

I suggest the following

Whitebeard doesn’t want women who are mothers fighting (everyone else fair game, go for it)

Women in fake beards (the Monty python scene) a bunch of ladies who just pretend to be men and the whole crew knows but they think it’s hilarious (also cracked a few eggs in that process 🏳️‍⚧️)

Whitey bay spent a year trying to kill wb (similar to ace) trying to prove that she can also fight. This lead to wb being like ‘so I was wrong’

Whitebeard knows the importance of medics in the field, so while all the wb nurses are trained to fight they try to stay out of central conflict so they can focus on healing

The white beard nurses are so bloodthirsty that the last time they entered the fight they put two vice admirals in the hospital (the marines literally pay them to stay out of fights)

Whitey bay is trans (what an icon in that hoop skirt) and not afraid to lecture her father about misogyny

hell yeah hell yeah hell yeah, whitey herself cracked so many eggs that whitebeard had to sit down in the shinji pose for a hot minute to grapple with it

before deciding to take "we are all children of the sea" to the logical conclusion, don't matter what's going on you're still my kid

whitebeard nurses being paid to stay out of fights I'm fuckking dying fduhijnk (if you get too bloodthirsty they take you in, put you in a skirt, and teach you how to tie a tourniquet congrats you're too mean to fight any more you get to patch people up now) (marco uses serving in the nurse's unit as a threat of punishment if you get carried away in a fight) (marco has had to wear a skirt+learn how medicine works Many Times and that's why he's the one doctor on board now)

them getting paid tho, there's literally a mail coo that comes by every month with a suitcase of cash and drops it directly into the head nurse's lap with a note from the marines admiralty going "hey, please don't wreck our shit this month thanks"

Pops lets them distribute it among themselves as they see fit

#ar answers #raccooon once again on that good shit

[theragingpan]

just watched the new doctor who episodeeeee

it had a lot of good moments but some things just felt really cheap and i'm sad about it - IF SHE COULD HAVE LET GO OF THE METACRISIS THE ENTIRE TIME WHY DIDN'T SHE JUST DO THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE?? and their comment at the end about how he would have understood if he was still female-presenting was kinda weird imo like he's a different person every regeneration but not because of his gender presentation or sex

the dialogue sagged a little at times and i feel like rose could have been given more to do - it would have been nice if they foreshadowed her intelligence more and gave her more personality other than wanting to.. help out.. the meep...?? at the start?? running an etsy shop..??? being smart because of the metacrisis?????????? i THINK they tried to foreshadow with the fact that she was just 100 percent unconcerned by finding an alien in her trash and scolding the doctor for assuming said alien's pronouns after he broke into her house but in those moments that just read as really weird imo. but it is the first episode so hopefully we'll get more of her later

i also feel like there was more dead air than there had to be too, and sometimes i just went. ppl don't talk like that???? or even, this person specifically would not say that. though in general donna's family seems really unconcerned by things i personally would be rather concerned about, like the doctor breaking into their house and the meep just fucking. being there. donna's husband is chill af about everything

i like fourteen - he's really sweet and they're leaning into the whole doctor thing more now - his first real scene with donna is with him patching up the meep and later he feels for a pulse on the unit soldier while they're running away. he also resorts to diplomacy first and doesn't seem as.. idk violent?? prone to assuming bad intentions of other aliens???? as prev generations of dw, which i also like.. and the fact that he just carries around a judge's wig with him at all times is funny as hell

he's surprisingly emotional as well - his reaction to thinking wilf is dead is beautifully done and his grief over donna, while really loud at the start, is really understated and well done near the end i think (though the fanservice was VERY VERY present throughout the whole thing). i do think that they shouldn't have made donna fake dead though,,, everyone already knew they weren't killing her off the in the first episode so i just kinda rolled my eyes and waited for them to contrive a reason for her to come back to life

#doctor who spoilers

[thesunshinecourts]

countdown to tsc: apr 7., 2024, 23:58 pdt

2. digging your fingers into fresh dirt // renee walker, after lazarus

When Renee gets to the garden, her fingers are still stained with blood.

It had taken Abby’s most soothing tone and Wymack doing a passable imitation of Aaron’s impatient candour—the same language as Wymack’s, but less heart-filled bluster, more blunt force trauma—to get Renee to leave the room. She’s still not sure she should have, but Abby’s voice had been gentle when she’d said, this isn’t like Matt. Giving him something to believe in will come later.

Renee doesn’t know if she’s ever seen Abby so angry and horrified. It’s worse than how she looked at Kevin’s injuries, that very first night. It’s worse than how she looked at Neil, both times, after the Nest and after his father. It’s almost as devastated, Renee thinks, as the way she looked when she held Allison tight to her chest that first night after Seth.

Wymack is better at holding his expressions in check, but Renee knows him. There had been a tremor in his knuckles when he opened the passenger car door. He’d gotten it under control fairly quickly, to his credit, but Renee had noticed.

Renee had thought, I am not the only one who must draw on all my reserves to keep steady.

She breathes out, then in, as if the smell of growth in the world around her can flush through her body. When she was a second year, Seth had taken a biology class with Dwayne. It had nothing to do with either of their majors—she remembers Juan making some sort of joke about growing pot, and Seth elbowing him with a sidelong glance at Allison, who had rolled her eyes and told them both that she thought they’d be lucky to keep a fake plant alive in the shithole they called a dorm—but Seth had liked it better than anyone had expected, occasionally offering up things he found interesting from the units on horticulture.

There had been a joke about photosynthesis once, something that had been mostly earnest information, but he hadn’t been able to resist throwing in some teasing at the end, always trying to make Allison laugh. Renee feels a sudden wave of indescribable, quiet grief when she realises she can’t remember how his joke had gone.

There are four plants to her left, still in the plastic pottles you buy them in at the store. Renee remembers Abby talking about a sale a few weeks ago, and wonders if these are those same plants. It’s been a demanding few weeks, she thinks. Life is often unkind to those that cannot move of their own accord.

She’s not really thinking about it when she walks over and picks them up. She puts them together, two by two, and squeezes her fingers around two pottles per hand. There are probably gloves somewhere; a trowel too, maybe.

Renee does not care.

Kneeling down at the edge of the garden, there’s a patch with looser soil than the rest. It is poor behaviour, she thinks, to start messing around with Abby’s things without asking permission first, but Renee does not have the space in her yet to hold back. Abby will forgive her, which is not an acceptable reason to do something, but Renee is so angry. She spent her whole night transforming terrified grief into determination and a plan, and then the six-hours-and-then-some drive from Castle Evermore back home with nothing in her mind but Jean. The impossibiity of him.

The impossibility of him still being alive. The impossibility of her getting there in time, and even that’s still to be determined. The impossibility of how much she aches, looking at him and thinking about him and praying for him. Four hundred miles on the I-77, and all she could do way pray.

It was a very human thing, Renee thinks, to walk into Evermore to get him out. Stephanie had been proud of her, and Abby had called her brave, and Andrew had looked at her with that innate knowledge of someone who understood what it meant to take someone under their wing, and absolutely none of their thoughts and love and understanding change the fact that Renee walked into Castle Evermore with more fear than faith.

She digs. One hand into the soil, then the next. There is blood on her fingers still, beneath the nails. Part of Renee has the uncharitable thought that she hopes it’s Zane’s, stray flecks from when she punched him. More of her accepts that it’s Jean’s. She does not know when it is from: when she first knelt at his side on Riko’s bedroom floor, when he was carefully settled into her car, when she and Wymack lifted him into Abby’s house, when she sat beside him and held his hand as those broken, wounded sounds ripped their way from his throat and drove right into her heart, piercing it through, over and over, just as the way the ugliest part of her, buried beneath therapy and anger management and the most wilful calm she has ever had to cloak her body in, wishes it could do to Riko.

Jean’s blood beneath her fingernails, spattered across her hands, buried into the soil. She’s planting a flower she does not know the name of, and all she hopes for is that Jean will bloom.

Please, she prays, tugging the roots apart with a care and precision she did not feel capable of two hours ago, listening to Jean’s screams. Please, she prays, pressing the plant into the soil, cupping her hands together to scoop the dirt, helping it settle into its new home. Please, she prays, patting down the soil, warm earth meeting her palms like a balm.

Please, she prays. Stephanie says you are not done with him yet. She was right about me. Thank you for getting us this far. Please. Please. Please.

“Renee?”

It’s Abby’s voice, exhausted and haunted and utterly wrecked. She still manages a wan smile when Renee looks up at her. Abby doesn’t seem to notice that Renee has been co-opting her garden, or maybe she’s too raw to care.

“You can come back in now,” she says, like she knows it’s both a gift and punishment at once.

Renee nods, then stands, brushing the dirt off her trousers. She looks at Abby as she approaches, trying to choose her words. To ask how he is would only invite more sadness; to ask if he’ll live betrays how deep her fear has run.

“I’m sorry,” she says in the end, quiet but sincere. “That must have been… very difficult.”

The look Abby gives her is brief, but pained. “He breaks my heart as much as any of you,” she says, quickly, fervently, “but that is never a thing to apologise for.” Abby looks so sad. It makes Renee ache, but this is not the type of thing she can wipe away. “Thank you for bringing him here,” Abby says, and Renee feels rocked with it.

“Thank you for letting me,” she says in return, and neither of those are entirely what they mean, but it is enough. Renee will always walk into Castle Evermore to save Jean, and Wymack and Abby will always open the door when she arrives in South Carolina. There is no version of this story, Renee thinks, where they follow any other script.

This is what it is to be Foxes, after all.

“He’s still not quite himself,” Abby says. There is a part of Renee that finds this sentence amusing; Abby has never met Jean, not truly, only from Kevin’s stories. More of her is somber. She knows what Abby means. “But I think he’ll feel — perhaps only marginally, but I think he’ll feel more at ease having you beside him. I’ve done what I can, for now, and there will be more medication and treatment and dressing of his wounds, much more before the night is through, let alone before he is recovered, but —” She exhales, long and low. “He is alone, and in pain. We can’t do much more about the second one. But he can have you back.”

Renee nods, setting her jaw as Abby steps back to allow her through.

“Then he shall have me until I am no longer needed,” Renee says, and thinks, and perhaps some time longer after that.

Abby gives her a careful look. “That could be a very long while,” she says, but she does not offer any sort of objection.

“That’s okay,” Renee says. “I don’t mind waiting.”

#renee walker #jean moreau #aftg #jeanee #post lazarus #abby winfield #countdown to tsc #tsc countdown 2 #ok i had a very hectic stressful day lmao but at like 11pm pdt i finally started reading lazarus #so i whipped this out quickly for today on the countdown LOL i knew i wanted to write renee today so i was like #lazarus time u gotta. u gotta #jean & renee #blood mentions and severe injury reference cw #seth references! #abby & renee #countdown to the sunshine court #i realised just now that technically jean isn’t even in this but he’s so much the subject of her focus that it’s like. weeps

[therandosfandos]

(don't go to my AO3 unless you have severe triggers of NSFW content!)

@frenderbender09 @bluehamster08

Sum: What he once loved turned into what he now hated....

Or, what exactly did make Bender come up with the pirate scheme to save everyone in the first place?

Laughter rings out from Robot Arms Apts. The human and robot pair wearing fake eye patches and had fake swords that they swung around, play fighting with. Fry ducks over the couch and raises his sword held high, "you'll never catch me, matey!", he says in a terrible pirate voice.

Bender just smirks, "oh, yeah!? Try me, meatbag!", he clanks his sword with Fry's own, tackling his best friend and boyfriend to the ground. Fry just groans, "hey, no fair! You weigh like 500 tons!", he whines pathetically. The robot just stands triumphantly and lays there.

"Are you going to get off me, bud?"

"Nah, I'm comfy", Bender giggled deviously and refused to move. Fry just sighs and drops the plastic sword, holding his metal boyfriend in his arms in a warm loving embrace. He kisses the top of the bending units head, "I love you, Bender"

Bender enjoys being held, he loves being spoiled. Sure he's the receiver, he's not usually, but he came to terms that he loved it, so he lets Fry just do whatever he wants with him. Bender sighed contently with bliss.

He loved playing pirates.

—

The robot paces back and forth as he threw the pink slip of paper at Robot 1-X angrily. He was so pissed off. So upset. He felt like he wanted to die again. He gets out the quarter on a string and stares at it.

A tear unwillingly falls from his faceplate. They didn't even think twice about leaving him and every other robot here on earth did they?

Robots finally ruled, but at what cost? There was no one to reign over, no one to be used as their slaves, no one to cherish them. Only Just pure dead silence as the wind passes through the environment. The bending unit can only hiccup, he's trying to force himself not to cry, but no one was around, so he thought, what the heck? And let the sobs fall out uncontrollably.

He collapsed to the floor. He was a mess. He stares at the quarter again. His only will to live now gone. Maybe it's time to go through with what he planned originally.

Bender wobbles onto his footcups and trudges out the door. Now going out into the world that was so dark. Robots making campfires and roasting marshmallows. Other machines huddled up together for warmth. Speaking of which, where did the heat even go? Where had the comforting embrace of solar energy go off to? It was so cold.

The bending unit shakily walks through the now empty streets of New New York, managing to find a near suicide booth. Crime was high, he spotted a few other robots getting mugged but he couldn't bring himself to do the same thing. He was usually up for any petty thievery. Now he wasn't, what was the point.

Earth was a war zone. A sad, sad, miserable mechanical battlefield that hosted robots fighting over things. The humans had created a balance with machinery, with them, nothing crumbled to pieces. Without them, it all tore to shreds.

More sobs come from Bender, he hated everything and everyone. He wanted his boyfriend back. He just wanted Fry back. He wanted to be swept off his footcups, to be carried like a princess, to be lovingly wrapped in the squishy meatbags warm hugs and peppered with kisses he normally rolled his eyes at. But that wouldn't happen, would it?

He places a hand on the suicide booths logo, eyeing the twenty five cents sign, looking back and forth between it and the quarter on his finger. His hand curled up into a fist. He was so angry and upset. A loud wail breaks out from him, he didn't care if any nearby passes heard, he had to let it all out. He falls to the sidewalk on his knees and punches the concrete pathway. It hurt and his hands had dents and scratches all over them now, but he didn't care.

He didn't care about anything anymore. What was there to even care about?

Soon, the punches die down and Bender just sobs like a baby into the walkway, all curled up on himself. If anyone came by, he was sure to maybe get beaten up, stuff stolen out of his chest compartment, but this time, Bender wouldn't fight back. He was so tired. He was too weak. He was worthless.

Fry thought he was worthless. The human had left him after all. His own boyfriend not even caring to stay behind on Earth with him.

Bender sniffles, sitting up now and looking around with fogged up optics. He spots a nearby clothing shop and looks through the display glass. There he sees a mannequin fitting up with a pirate outfit on, a pink sash, a red bandana, a pirate hat and a sword. A real sword.

He thinks back to when he and Fry always played together. Bender playing as captain of the seas and Fry as either his first mate or opponent. It always ended up with the human spooning the robot and giving him kisses and words of affirmation. Bender lived for it. The thrill, the action, the affection afterwards.

He breaks the glass with one of his footcups, shattering it and using his extendo arms to grab the sash, sword, bandana and hat, putting it all on. He then goes to assemble a crew. He rounded up the ones who he thinks were fit enough for the journey and manages to find a space pirate ship, he climbs on and his new swash buckling buckoneers salute him, "captain!".

Bender cringes at the name. It didn't sound so fun to him anymore. But he shrugged it off and took off into space. Looking back downwards as he sees Earth become a mess in its name. God, it was horrific. He winces but looks back up as they were now entering the solar system and as they approach the crack that machines couldn't enter. He braces himself, gathering newfound courage he hadn't had since Fry left him a few hours ago.

"Fire the harpoons!", he finally commands without another doubt. The crew listens to him. Though, all Bender could feel was dread and sorrow. Anger and sadness combining into one horrible feeling.

He wanted them back and would stop at nothing to do so. The Earth was falling apart without them. No, he was falling apart without them.

Bender used to like playing pirates

#futurama #bender #fry #frender #the beast with a billion backs #i need my bender angst leave me alone

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

A former roommate of Rep. George Santos said the embattled congressman used a Jewish-sounding last name to try to raise money for a questionable GoFundMe page.

Gregory Morey-Parker, who previously lived with Santos, told CNN's Anderson Cooper on Tuesday that Santos used several aliases during their time as roommates.

Morey-Parker said he primarily knew Santos, who has listed his full name as George Anthony Devolder Santos, as Anthony Devolder.

But the former roommate said Santos also referred to himself as Anthony Zabrovsky, a name the now New York congressman reserved for a GoFundMe venture called Friends of Pets United.

CNN reported in late December that conversations with several genealogists had disproved the Holocaust-ancestry claim, and the Republican Jewish Coalition said that month that Santos had "personally" deceived its members about being Jewish.

Santos later told the New York Post that he is Catholic and only claimed to be "Jew-ish."

Reports of Santos' questionable efforts to boost his GoFundMe fundraising came as a military veteran accused him of taking $3,000 worth of GoFundMe funds meant for his dying dog.

Speaking to the local news outlet Patch, Rich Osthoff said that his dog Sapphire was dying from a stomach tumor and that Santos offered to help, starting a GoFundMe page for him in May 2016.

But Osthoff told Patch that after the money was raised, Santos closed the fundraising page and ghosted him.

Santos pushed back on Osthoff's accusation. "Fake," he told the news outlet Semafor in a text message. "No clue who this is."

The New York Times reported last month that while Santos claimed to have founded Friends of Pets United in 2013, there appeared to be no records of it having been registered as a legitimate charity.

Santos has admitted to fabricating parts of his life story, including his university education and elements of his employment history. He has refused to resign.

Santos did not immediately respond to Insider's request for comment.

#us politics #news #business insider #cnn #patch #the new york times #semafor #rep. george santos #george santos should resign #anthony devolder #Anthony Zabrovsky #GoFundMe #Friends of Pets United #Gregory Morey-Parker #anderson cooper #Rich Osthoff #2023 #118th congress #us house of representatives #conservatives #republicans #gop #new york #Youtube

[pyro-hairedguy]

I should post more train stuff.

I'm currently working on building a Fairbanks Morse H10-44 by Cary Locomotive Works for the club I'm in. The shell clocks in at 12oz, and should be around a pound by the time I've added the chassis.

The kit was new old stock, unassembled, so I'm putting in the effort to build and solder the hand rails using Tichy wire. It didn't include enough stanchions to complete the wrap around nose hand rail, so I bent one around before learning I could get more.

I'll need about 10 more stanchions to complete the hand rails and add the coupler lift bar. It looks like I can just buy pre bent bars, so I'll get that instead of bending it myself.

Then I just need to finish the end rails and figure out how I want to build the add on rails from the prototype.

This FM is planned to be stationed at our future coal mine, which will be running heavy live loads. The heavy shell will boost the pulling power, as the Walthers model I have was incapable of pulling our existing fake load coal train on flat table.

The real locomotive that inspired the build is the only H10-44 Peabody Coal Company owned. PCCX 274 was purchased from the Frisco, where it was assigned the same number. I plan to paint this unit to match the mixed scheme Peabody gave 274 during their ownership, then patch cab numbers, and possibly hood lettering, using the club's shade of blue as backing. It will be as though our railroad purchased it from Peabody after the 70s.

It's going to be a real ugly duckling, but it'll pull a house down and put history into the scenes on the layout, while also calling out to my contribution and choice of railroad.

#model railroading #model trains #model railroad #ho scale #frisco #Peabody Coal Company #Fairbanks Morse #cary locomotive works

[lucan-multiverse]

Soraya

The captain insisted on mandatory physicals every few weeks for the crew and Kate was content enough to follow his mandate. It made sense with the crew so isolated and with little time planet side, only basic rations and a war but Kate knew it was more for the mental checks than anything else. Who was close to breaking, who needed to be rotated out? Who might even be thriving?

The later didn’t happen often but sometimes she was surprised.

But it was the redhead with the scowl that perched on the biobed of her medbay that had her concerned today.

“Your bloods are all fine,” Kate tells her, scanning the datapad with a practiced eye. “But it’s those bruises that have me uneasy. Are you… are you in any trouble?”

Soraya Ellis, one of Berlin’s youngest comms specialists, stares back at Kate in confusion and with more than just a little bit of hostility. She was a prickly one and Kate knows she’s immediately misstepped.

“What?”

Kate lowers the datapad and schools her face into something kind. Nurturing. “I’ve… I’ve heard that you’ve taken up with phoenix Gibbons recently.”

“God,” Soraya scoffs and turns her head but not before Kate catches the roll of her eyes. “This crew is a bunch of gossips. And so what of it if I have? He’s not Alliance. It’s not against regs. The captain can’t say shit anyway,” Soraya threw it out like a challenge. “We’ve all seen the way Phoenix Knight looks at him. If those two aren’t fucking in the ready room, then I’m a monkey’s ass.”

Kate purses her lips. So Mason and the captain had been discrete but not discrete enough. Somehow, Kate can’t reconcile this girl with the experienced captain with their dalliances with super soldiers. Not with those dark patches that marked her skin when she had taken off her uniform earlier.

“I’m not talking about the captain. I’m talking about you,” Kate says. “I don’t know if you understand what you’re getting into.” She purposely allows her gaze to drop to the red rash across the top of Soraya’s left breast, just above the curve of her simple white bra. “He could kill you as easily as breathing.”

Soraya snorts. “You’ve read my file, Doc. Death doesn’t seem to think much of me. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“You were lucky, Soraya,” Kate tells her softly. “That doesn’t make you invincible. Or impervious.”

Soraya slides off the biobed and snatches up her uniform into her arms. Kate can see she’s upset her but this is something she can’t let go. She’s seen the Phoenix stats up close, she knows what they’re all capable of. And Soraya is young and injudicious and Kate can’t let her conscious rest without at least warning the girl.

“Anyone I ever get close to dies,” she spits. Her dark eyes flash with pain and Kate is vividly reminded of Soraya’s file. First her colony, then the freighter, her base and her unit. Death and destruction trailed after her like a miasma of sorrow.  “I figure if anyone has a chance to survive me, it’s a phoenix.”

Soraya storms towards the door. “Besides,” she throws out over her shoulder as she leaves in nothing but her underwear. “Who says it’s anything but fucking anyway?”

--

Soraya ignores the wolf whistles and the stares as she stomps her way back to her quarters in nothing but her simple cotton panties and bra. She didn’t have the trim, toned body of the marines or the ground fighters but she was slim and lean enough. There wasn’t much privacy on this boat anyway.

She just hoped they saw the marks on her skin. The signs that she wasn’t as unwanted as she liked to make them think.

That fucking doctor. Lording over the crew from her lab, fake warm and fake nice. Soraya wasn’t an idiot. She could see the haunting in the doctor she tried so hard to hide, the trauma she buried beneath her bland smiles and shifted behind her bionic hand. Soraya didn’t know how she had lost it but she got the sense loud and clear that the doctor had lost a lot more than just a limb.

It was the hiding of it that Soraya couldn’t stand. The faux healing. Bottling up her sorrows to make herself more palpable to others. Fuck that. Soraya might be raw. Volatile. She wore her trauma on her skin for everyone to see, but fuck, at least she was honest. No softly uttered platitudes could change it. Could change her.

She was a death magnet. Where she went… Loved... People died.

“Hey, Ellis,” a voice called out from the mess as she passed, “You looking for some fun?”

“Looks like she’s already had plenty,” another voice said.

There’s a laugh. “Fuck, who’d ever be crazy enough to fuck with her?”

Soraya is almost tempted to tell them but she’s not in the mood for their bullshit.

She has every intention of returning to her quarters. Every intention… but somehow she ends up at his instead.

“Ajax,” she says when the door opens and then he’s standing there – tall and golden and broad and so fucking beautiful it makes her heart hurt. She wants to sink into him, crack open his rib cage and climb inside where nothing would ever be able to hurt her, not even him. He looks at her from the doorway now, his face slowly morphing into a smile. Not quite the sardonic, mocking smile he turns on the others. This one has something else tinted to it. Something she barely catches.

Like maybe he’s pleased to see her.

Her own words to the doctor come back to her and for a moment, she regrets coming.

“Something you need?” he drawls and his voice washes over her and makes her shiver. He pointedly looks at her uniform bunched up in her arms then reaches out to her shoulder with one strong golden hand. Sometimes she wants to imagine those hands killing her. Sometimes she wants to imagine them killing for her.

She thinks he’s going to grab her shoulder and pull her inside but his fingertip only slips under the strap of her bra. There’s a burst of warmth and electricity as his skin makes contact with hers… then he tugs it down.

For a long moment, she forgets she’s standing in the middle of a corridor, half undressed, about to be more undressed.

Her breath hitches as his eyes focus on hers and she finds herself swimming in an ocean. “Or are you just lost?”

[burdened-android]

A VERY DESCRIPTIVE PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE. Repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc. if you fail to achieve some of the facts, add some other of your own!

NAME: Arma Marie Isdera (chosen) / Vantage (original name) PLSR8020L7QV828472082 (serial number) / Esperanza (temporary alias)

NICKNAME: n/a

TITLE(S): n/a

AGE: 26

SPECIES: human, android

SEX: Female

NATIONALITY: born in the united states, made to resemble someone from southern Europe (i.e. southern regions of Italy)

INTERESTS: Arma writes to an obsessive degree, chronicling many of her thoughts with a fountain pen. Depending on verse, her writing is either eloquent journal entries, or unhinged scribbling that only makes sense to her. "Black Trees" is her noise music project; the mild-mannered Arma loves shrieking into a microphone.

PROFESSION: What Arma enjoys the most is her work at Serapis, an organization that hosts people to take trips to other dimensions. She is a Leif, a sort of tour guide, that helps people navigate through these experiences. In other words, Arma is a professional trip sitter. In reality, Serapis is a front for the government, who is using the visitors as test subjects for a Project MKUltra-esque experiment. Arma is, of course, oblivious to this; she likes that her position hires more androids than other places.

There have been other scenes in which Arma is a barista at the Khamsin Inn, a small coffee shop near the walls of Neo-LA. I kinda thought it would be a fun joke to have Arma appear doing the most random jobs imaginable, like working at the DMV or operating construction equipment.

BODY TYPE: Very svelte, like someone who does a lot of cardio and aerobics. Arma's beauty lies not in the size of her features, but in her proportions.

EYES: entirely black (this makes her sensitive to bright light)

HAIR: Jet black, almost looking blue or purple in some lights. Arma doesn't really put her hair up unless she's going for a specific style; the people who made her were able to patch "long hair can be annoying" out of her DNA. She has thick eyebrows.

SKIN: Pale, stone gray, owing to genetic reasons, and her having black blood. Arma has permanent black lip gloss that doesn't come off.

POSTURE: Arma's sense of balance is extremely good, owing to the slightly mechanical nature of her. She usually wears stilettos, and can run in them at almost full speed. All of her movements are very measured and precise, almost to a robotic degree. She can also spend a much longer time upside down than normal people, without becoming uncomfortable. Arma can't swim.

HEIGHT: 5’9”

VOICE: It's deep, raspy, and androgynous. It's like she's whispering, but instead of getting louder, she gets closer to your ear. This can be disconcerting, because she can be talking to you from across the room, but it will sound like she's whispering in your ear. Everything Arma says is slow, and deliberate.

SIGNATURE OUTFIT: She has a fake fur coat she always wears, it's gray, very soft, and is meant to resemble chinchilla. Under that she usually wears some kind of turtleneck, crop top, or a more plain blouse, and black leggings. Alternates would be a cocktail dress, or a short skirt with fishnets. Arma has very sensitive eyes, so basically any time outside is spent with very dark sunglasses on. These have gold frames, to match a thin bracelet on her wrist. Charlemagne made her a necklace consisting of a black metal star, which she wears every day to honor him. Her aesthetic is basically "vampire that loves Trader Joe's."

Her appearance is one of the few exceptions to her otherwise austere lifestyle. In short, Arma is always slaying, even if the occasion doesn't call for it. Tabby is your girl if you want messy buns and oversized hoodies.

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: Arma is in a difficult spot emotionally. Her only relationship, both platonic and romantic, was with Charlemagne, her boyfriend who she escaped from New York with. In this timeline, she is just beginning to open up to new people after losing him on the journey to Neo Los Angeles.

COMPANIONS: Noelle, Pari, Spoons, and recently Kira. She drags Tabby out of the house, and relies on Limbo to help her with her car, and house repairs. Arma does not know that Limbo is a criminal.

ANTAGONISTS: Other than the police, and associated android hunters, Arma does not have any opps in the RPC. She is like a capybara, she survives by getting along with everyone. Arma likes, but is scared of Aura.

STRENGTHS: Resilience - Arma's body is unusually resilient, as she can shrug of things that would hospitalize a typical person. She is not completely impervious to everything, but, like, getting hit by a car would probably just stun her for a few seconds. She's very adaptive, and cunning - Arma is always open to learn knew things in order to both expand her frame of reference and to achieve what she desires. She can be a very out-of-the-box thinker. I've mentioned this before, but Arma is basically just a nice lady who wants to have a good time.

WEAKNESSES: As stated above, Arma's emotional state is not the greatest. She can be very emotionally dependent on her friends, and isn't the best with boundaries. Arma is a people pleaser, and puts the opinions of people she looks up to on a pedestal. Honestly, she's also kind of gullible, and too trusting of others.

FRUITS: Fruit? Fruit is a canvas, waiting to be painted (with chocolate.)

DRINKS: Arma is a true water enjoyer, preferring to chug it at room temperature. If not that, she loves hot drinks, especially hot chocolate and mocha lattes.

ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES: espresso martinis, and the reddest of red wine. Arma will swirl it menacingly as she lounges on her couch.

SMOKES: Has indulged in a cigarette once or twice.

DRUGS: No.

DRIVER'S LICENSE: Yes. Arma's income isn't always the most steady, and she drives a very tired Geo Metro that's filled with Squishmallows.

tagged by @chronicparagon

tagging @songofsilentechoes @smokes-and-bullets @cosmic-gemstone honestly my brain is mac n cheese rn so if u wanna do this go ahead ;)

#ooc #dash meme #tw drugs #thank you

[crucipuzzled]

About Psychiatry stuff in SPYxFAMILY. Part 4

Part 1 / Part 2 /Part 3 About 10 minutes ago I took the exit exam for one of my Psychoanalysis postgraduate courses and I scored the highest grade. In order to commemorate this joyous ocassion for me, I decided to write an eyesore bring you the last part of this series of Psychiatry stuff in SPYxFAMILY.

I included a brief section of Bonuses to answer some small details that I didn't speak about before, and to cover some of the questions you've formulated over this series of analysis. I hope to fulfill your expectations.

Spoilers ahead!

9. The DSM

DSM stands for Diagnostic and Statistic Manual of Mental Disorders. It's an American handbook that contains descriptions of symptoms and the criteria to properly diagnose a mental health disorder. Its use is pretty much worldspread.

Interestingly, Psychiatrists barely use the DSM as they prefer the ICD-10 handbook. ICD stands for International Classification of Diseases, and it's a compilation of descriptions of every single disease known by modern Medicine. The diseases related to mental health are listed in the "F" codes of the ICD.

In short, DSM is mostly used by Psychologists for diagnostic purposes, while Psychiatrists, for that same purpose, tend to use the ICD because they are grounded in Medicine.

This doesn't stop a Psychiatrist for using the DSM as a reference, but the thing with diagnosis is that it needs to be codified, so your insurance company or the Public Health System can properly cover your treatment costs or whatever. So, another reason for why doctors prefer to stick to the ICD.

-Why do they have numbers like DSM-V and ICD-10?

Periodically, new classifications are made as the field of Medicine keeps doing clinical research and discovering new stuff; in consequence, the Manuals need to be updated.

Even when the DSM is for Psychologists, Psychiatrists play an important role updating it, hence why Fiona hands Loid a document pertaining changes in the DSM. But since she's also fake, well...

10. Concussive Therapy

Yor, please! That's confidential between my patients and me!

Severely disturbed psychiatric patients can be a handful. While most of them are peaceful and mean no harm to others at all, there's always a bunch of patients that get really agitated and violent, leaving you with no other option than physical restrain.

That's why, for good precaution, a Psychiatrist working in a Hospital should know at least one immobilization movement to restrain an agitated patient without harming him/her (hello Aikido). Not mandatory, but recommended if you're going to work in a Psychiatric ER. If that fails, there's always the rest of the staff to aid the doctor.

Of course, beating patients is a no-no. Then again, Loid is a fake Psychiatrist...

Bonus time!

Bonus 1: What if Anya goes to therapy?

For a spy, that would be the worst occurence ever. Even if we therapists don't read minds, we have our ways to get dangerously close to the truth, without you even realizing it. Bwa-ha-ha-ha!

It's much safer to keep being a good DILF dad.

Bonus 2: What about the lab coat?

In a Hospital, Psychiatrists need to be recognized as doctors and distinguish themselves from other professionals, because their role and the authority given to them is pretty different from every other healthcare professional. This is specially useful when working in a Psychiatric ER. A lab coat meets this purpose.

But if you work in the Ambulatory Care Unit you can simply switch to a cardigan or, even better, the beloved tweed jacket. Or a tweed jacket with elbow patches over a cardigan. That's an overkill.

Just listen to the good Dr. Glaucomflecken!

Bonus 3: What about Loid's research?

If he can't reveal much of his research, then Loid's doing clinical research. In simple words: he's working with patients's data, wether quantitative or qualitative. Whenever a patient's personal info is involved, confidentiality is a must.

Out of all medical specialties, Psychiatry is the most philosophical and the easiest to fake and can do quite a lot of non-clinical research.

Then again, he's a fake Psychiatrist...

Bonus 4: Are Donovan Desmond's head scars a product of a lobotomy?

If your surgical target is the frontal lobe, it doesn't make sense that the scars are in the temporal skullbone (the sides of the head).

Standard lobotomy made an incision in the frontal bone of the skull, the top of the head. And frontal lobotomy didn't leave any scars. So, no lobotomy, guys.

Also, why would he need a lobotomy, in the first place? Only if he had a mental condition characterized by uncontrollable agitation, like some types of Schizophrenia, Epilepsy or OCD. And after a lobotomy, he definitely wouldn't have been able to talk to Loid and Damian without any issues, like he did.

I already ruled out the possibility of him being psychotic. Now, he could have other serious mental illnesses like those I just mentioned but I lack data to properly hypothetize a diagnosis.

That said, in terms of psychic structure (which is not the same as having a mental illness or a type of personality), he gives me the impression of an obsessive neurotic. But he could be a perverse, like Yuri Briar. Only Endo will tell.

Judging only by his head scars and where they're located, I can think of 2 surgical interventions with therapeutic ends:

Temporal lobectomy, to treat some cases of Epilepsy

Brain tumor removal

The other option is that he somehow got a grievous wound on his head and received sutures, not a neurosurgery. He lived a war, after all.

I'm with that portion of the fandom that go by the theory of Donovan being a product of human experimentation, wether forcibly or by his own volition as to buff himself up somehow rather than meeting a therapeutic purpose.

But, given that SxF has presented us to an incoherent universe in which Yor tells her coworkers she forgot to tell her brother about her marriage after, supposedly, AN ENTIRE YEAR and THEY DON'T CALL THE SSS ON THE SPOT, everything is possible. Rendering everything I've written so far absolutely worthless. It was fun, regardless.

Don't overthink it! Here, have a silly Anya chapter.

And that's it for this sort of analysis or rather boring everybody to death of Psychiatric stuff in the SPYxFAMILY series. If anything interesting comes up in the next episodes, if I have enough time like I do nowadays not that I like it, I need a job I'll try to write about it.

#spy x family #spy x family manga #analysis #psychoanalysis #psychiatry