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thetravelingtyper · 1 month

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On The Same Page pt5 (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader Bookshop! AU)

On the way home from Price and the beach you recollect an old story...

Part 3, Part 4, Part 6, Masterlist

Warnings: None!

The road home was filled with music, a light heart, and the cleansing of rain. The storm rolled over you, rumbling with flashes of lightning sporadically lighting up the night. Lumbering hills with peaks and festering marshlands spanned alongside. One step off of the lonely road would take you to a world unlike your own. You thought deeply as you drove. Of things gone by, as the ocean disappeared, you missed home.

You were 13 when your parents became too busy, and left alone to your own devices you stumbled upon sanctuary. In the woods, you found a fox's den, now empty of its inhabitants. But there you found a new life. A fallen log your seat, you brought your typewriter out and started recording. The breaking of sticks down your trodden path, wisps of clouds on clear days. The sounds of birds, swooping swallows with dart-like precision. The growing flora and fungi in the damp woods.

Every day you would return, after school chasing the familiar shadows of your imagination. They kept you close comfort. One day, years later, however as you approached you found the glint of orange, and to your surprise, there was a fox asleep in the den. As you turned past the corner you ended up unintentionally waking the creature, its head popping up with ears like radars. Amber eyes met yours and you both just watched each other. However the creature did not startle, so you slowly approached yards away. Setting down your jacket you sit on it and slowly open the case of your typewriter. While its ears twitch, the fox shows no motion of moving, instead content with watching you.

Your hours were lost in the lone fox. And to your pleasure, it was there the next day, then the next week. You made it a habit to go to the den with your new acquaintance. As you met your first partner you would just talk in a soft voice to the fox, As junior college passed and your heart had been broken the fox had become something more in your brain. It was a symbol of the resilience of nature, of making the space you find yourself in yours. You finished your undergrad with the first drafts of your first book.

And as for the fox? One day you returned, set on your plan to move for your masters you had brought some meat out for the fox. Yet as you crossed the path you found the den empty for once after about two years. You frowned but left the meat anyway, vowing to return once before you left. But life got busy, saying goodbye and closing up loose ends. You vetted your life and your writing career. Stories covered your room walls, old and new. You were leaving everything you knew. A few days before you left on a brisk moment of free time you went on a whim to the den.

As you walk you reminisce on the years spent on this path. The turned stones, the old tree house, the creek the elements of your stories light up your vision. You can hear the howling of wolves under the wind, the creaking of moving trees, the ringing of fairy voices. And yet as fantasy swirls with reality you turn the bend to find not only your friend but a few fox kits as well. You stared in all as the fox watched you with bright eyes.

“You did good.” It's a whisper not only to the fox but to yourself as all of the elements of your growing stories fade back into reality.

A flash of lightning brought you back to reality as you parked the car in your building’s lot and prepared to face the onslaught of London rain. You sling your backpack on awkwardly in the tight space of the car and throw on your jacket over it. Street lamps flickered in wind and rain as you rushed out of the car and to the cover of the parking area. There was some wild feeling in you being exposed to the elements, just like at the ocean and when you were a kid. As you made it under cover you tilted your drenched head back and laughed into the evening. The florescent hum, there is something intently human in your heart.

You see movement and jump. Leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette is Simon. He watches you a smile playing on his lips.

“Happy Dove?”

The nickname has you blushing and you shove off your wet coat.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You chuckle. Simon raises a brow at your form before he puts out his cigarette. He shrugs off his jacket and holds it out for you.

“Come on I'll walk you home.” He looks at you expectantly, his body taking up a lot of the space in the hall. But as you move forward he steps aside to allow you next to him.

“Here,” He offers and you hand him your bag, he shoulders it and hands you his jacket. Slipping it on you are met with the smell of smoke and cologne. You relax into it as it engulfs you, something in SImon’s eye shining. You begin the walk under the awning together in comfortable silence. Simon cuts his stride short for you, and you give him an appreciative smile.

His hair is slightly damp you realize then, it gives him a bit of a boyish look, water-darkened hair complementing his eyes. He looks forward, scanning the path then turning back to you.

“Were you outside long?” You ask, the cold bristling you despite your borrowed jacket.

“No. I was watching out for you.” He offers it honestly. You hum, then you set a hand on his arm without thinking too much. Simon’s eyes widen a fraction and turn down to the contact. You realize then and move to pull away with an apology but Simon offers you his elbow. You pause but you take his arm in yours. Despite only being in a long-sleeved black shirt, Simon radiates warmth and you find yourself leaning into him. He glances at you through his peripheral vision.

“Are you not cold Simon?” You ask concerned. He shakes his head, putting on your backpack fully,

“‘M fine, thanks love.” Is all he offers, seeming content with silence, but he tucks his hand into his pocket, thus pulling you closer and you find yourself silently swooning. A few more minutes pass when you reach the main street, rain still pouring but the bookstore is in sight.

“Hold on, I've got an umbrella somewhere. I don't want you to get soaked.”

You pull on your arm and Simon begrudgingly releases you. You dig in your backpack producing a bright orange, fox-patterned umbrella. The sight is a bit bright and contrasts with his aesthetic but Simon opens it and holds it anyway, a brow raised that makes you giggle. Once you reach the cover of the book store you find the door unlocked so you enter followed by Simon into the warmth of the store. Simon does his best to avoid getting water everywhere but you take the bright umbrella from him with a thankful smile.

Having heard the door Sam rounds the corner.

“You found her then huh.” Sam notices you in Simon’s jacket and his grin widens and you give him a look.

“Sammy, not a word.”

“I said nothing!” He raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Thanks for walking her.” He adds and approaches you. Before you can escape you are locked in a headlock as Sam ruffles your hair.

“Sammy! Stop!” You push at his arms laughing. You both spend a fond moment roughhousing before you remember Simon.

“Simon at least stay for dinner till this storm lets up!” You insist, finally tapping out with Sam, he finally releases you with a kiss on your head. The older man stands on the cusp of the affection, watching. You spin back to him staring up with a pretty smile, expectant.

“Alright,” He says it intensely. It makes you pause, he sees this and shifts his weight, then nods an affirmation just as a large crash of thunder startles all of you.

“We have a spare bedroom if you need it,” Sam checks his phone, “the rain isn’t supposed to let up until tomorrow. You best stay the night.”

The thought doesn't seem to trouble Simon too much,

“If it's not a bother.”

You clap your hands together,

“I did owe you dinner didn’t I huh? And a sleepover is just like college Sam!”

Your best friend looks from his painted nails to Simon, the idea seems to crack him up. Simon glowers at him. You chuckle and set a hand on Simon’s arm.

“I met Captain Price today.”

This catches his attention, turning down to regard you as he speaks.

“He gone fishin’?”

The dry humor catches you off guard but you smile and reply,

“Something like that. He and I talked about stuff. He’s a good man Simon.”

At that Simon nods eye still tracing your hand, He raises his own to it to see your reaction. Your eyes widened at the direct contact, but you had been feeling comfortable with the man. You shoot him a shy smile and he returns it.

“It's a date then?” He asks.

Sam looks up from behind the counter eyes sharp. He meets eyes with Simon and the ex-lieutenant finds his equal in ferocity. Simon takes your hand and shares a look with Sam, a quiet conversation between them before Sam nods and starts to head upstairs, one final glance behind him at you and Simon.

“Can you lock up Buttercup?” He pauses in question.

You can only nod with an embarrassed blush on your face. Sam heads upstairs leaving you and Simon together. He seems content just holding your hand. He takes it, lifting your palm from his arm and simply grasping it in his dropping your hands down to hang. Your heart beats a little faster but you take the next step to interlace your fingers.

“I gotta lock up Simon.” You say it with a grin but he doesn't move his hand instead gesturing to the door.

“Ill follow.” His mumbles.

You give him a humored look, swinging your hand in his. He waits a moment, releasing your hand as you step to the door, Simon following like a shadow. He reminded you of Nebula, your childhood cat. A cat of few meows but much affection and he would follow you around the house.

You flip off the switch for the lights and the neon leaving you and Simon basked in darkness. His pale skin is illuminated by the light from the stairway behind the counter. You turn around to meet him and are caught by the glow of him with the back light. He stands like some bygone god, ever vigilant, but his eyes and hair are soft. He carries your bag looking down at you with curiosity.

“What is it, Dove?”

He asks you but your mind is drawn back to the wildness of the sea earlier. You liken it to Simon in your mind. Something beautiful but with the wilderness within, a man of scars and hewn edges. Someone with a stormy past. Your mind swirls with storm clouds, yet here is this man who has taken a step to attach himself to you.

You want to reach up and touch him, like some modern adonis with honey for eyes and a deep voice. But something caught in your throat, there was so much untold in this story, this connection that it made you stumble. Who was he to step into your dreams? Instead, you step forward to meet him. You raise a hand in question, He steps forwards and meets your palm. His large hands engulf yours.

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

Taglist!

@ghostlythots, @tapioca-milktea1978, @cmbghost

End Chapter 5

Note: This was shorter than I really wanted it to be so expect 6 to be longer!

#cod mw2 2022 fanfic #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap and reader #simon riley fluff #fanfiction #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #on the same page #captain johnathan price #john price #Simon riley x you #Simon riley #cod mw2 2022 #john soap mactavish

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uncharismatic-fauna · 1 year

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A Big Round of Applause for the Chinese Giant Salamander

The Chinese giant salamander (Andrias davidianus) is one of the largest amphibians in the world, second only to the South China giant salamander (Andrias sligoi) which was only recently distinguished as a separate species. This species typically weights 25–30 kg (55–66 lb) and is 1.15 m (3.8 ft) in length, although It can reach up to 50 kg (110 lb) and 1.8 m (5.9 ft). Its anatomy is well-suited to its aquatic lifestyle; the broad, flat body allows it to creep along riverbeds, and its wide mouth allows it to gulp down any prey it might come accross. Their eyesight is very poor and as a result the eyes themselves are small. A. davidianus‘s skin is typically dark to blend in with its surrounding, and the excess wrinkles provide more surface area through which it can absorb oxygen from the water.

As their name suggests, the Chinese giant salamander is found only in China; specifically fragmented areas from Qinghai to Jiangsu and south to Sichuan, Guangxi and Guangdong. This species is entirely aquatic, and thus is most often found in the basins of the Yangtze, Yellow and Pearl Rivers. A. davidianus lives in caves or freshwater crevices, although they are also seen along lakes or open rocky riverbeds.

Part of the reason this species is so large is because they grow throughout their entire lives. Chinese giant salamanders start out as eggs, which are hatched in groups of 400-500 laid in slow-moving underwater cavities. The eggs are quite large, at a maximum size of 14–16 mm (0.55–0.62 in) after they’re laid and habe absorbed water. They take 50-60 days to hatch, and larvae emerge already resembling their parents, albeit with external gills, and are already 3 cm (1.2 in) long. The young are independent, although they typically stay in the stream they were hatched in until they’re fully grown. The gills are lost at 3 years old, although sexual maturity isn’t reached until 5 to 6 years and a length of 40–50 cm (16–20 in).

Mating occurs between mating occurs between July and September, when the water temperature reaches 20 °C (68 °F). During this time, males push sand and gravel out of their dens to clean them-- a process that can take up to a week-- and ‘shower’ regularly by moving under fast-moving currents. Females are attracted to clean dens, and once she chooses a mate the pair engage in a number of courtship behaviors including knocking bellies, leaning side-to-side, and cohabitating. After the female lays her eggs, she leaves and the male guards the eggs until they hatch. Individuals as old as 60 have been recorded in the wild, although few individuals survive past the larval stage.

Chinese giant salamanders have few predators as adults. The most common are otters, red foxes, weasels and hog badgers, although juveniles can also fall prey to large fish or even adult salamanders. To deter predators, A. davidianus secretes a white acidic, sticky substance from its skin. For the most part this species is the apex predator of its ecosystem, and feeds on insects, smaller amphibians, crustaceans, fish, and the Chinese water shrew (Chimarrogale styani). Individuals detect their prey by a combination of detecting chemicals in the water and a series of nodes along the sides of their bodies that sense vibration. When prey is located, the salamander creates a vaccum with their mouths, sucking in water and their meal.

Conservation status: The Chinese giant salamander is considered Critically Endangered by the IUCN. Primary threats include habitat loss, disease, and over-harvesting for meat. National and international conservation programs and zoos are working to raise awareness, conserve habitat, and raise captive-bred salamanders for re-release in the wild.

Extra fun picture for Chinese New Year:

This picture is from a series of paintings by artist Frankie Huang, who depicts a number of Chinese words literally. In this piece, the Chinese giant salamander is shown as the literal translation of its name in China: Wawayu, or ‘Baby fish’. This name comes from the salamanders’ distinct vocalizations, which can often sound like crying babies.

Photos

Theodore Papenfuss

Egon Heiss

Ben Tapley

Frankie Huang (Instagram)

#chinese giant salamander #Urodela #Cryptobranchidae #giant salamanders #salamanders #amphibians #mountains #caves #rivers #freshwater fauna #subterranean fauna #asia #east asia #animal facts #biology #zoology #happy Chinese New Year!#(ik im two days late but i was moving out of my apartment)#(again)

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 1 year

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Nsfw and Sfw for Kitsune!Shinji Hirako watching, stalking and messing with Foreign!Darling, to finally after some time, making her his mate and start breeding her

Shinji's the kind of fox spirit that likes to collect "exotic" things: trinkets and souvenirs left by Japanese people returning from trips, postcards, jazz music records, etc. And when he decides he'd like a wife, he decides he'd like to make her the crown jewel of his collection.

When he sees a cute foreign woman enter his domain, he knows that she's the one. He'll find a way to lure her away from the local attraction she'd come to see with stray sounds and giving her a brief glimpse of his form. Luring prey on a chase like this, making them see just enough to entice them into going further off the trail to see if they really saw something? He looooves it.

He decided to give them a little test to see if she'd be a good wife, and turned into his animal form and pretended to have an injured paw caught in an illusionary trap. She heard his cries and not only did she immediately run to help, but he saw that she was tearing up as she tried to free him. He'd caught a kind, compassionate little fool! How sweet.

Once she'd "freed" him, Fox!Shinji would nuzzle her hand and reveal that he had been hiding a ring in his mouth. He'd drop it into her palm and nose at her finger before looking up at her with those sparkling brown eyes. Even though she couldn't believe this was actually happening, she knew enough about Japanese culture to know that even if it's from an animal, you don't refuse a gift.

Once she slips it onto her finger while sitting next to him, Shinji would jump up to lick her cheek--and reveal his more human form while embracing her. He takes advantage of her shock to pick her up and drag her by the hand into the world of spirits, whisking her away to his den. Even if she wanted to leave, accepting his ring has bound her to him; he explains with a cheeky grin that she can only go to the human realm if he's there with her. But why would she? They've got a wedding to enjoy!

Other spirits come to pay tribute with gold, silk clothes, and plenty of wine while Shinji tries to cheer his captive wife up with drinks, food, and dancing. Once they're alone, he'd pull her onto his bed and toy with her underneath her wedding kimono. She's still pleading to go home, but Shinji just chuckles and rubs his slender fingers against her clit while sliding one inside of her walls. She IS home!

Once she's wet enough to his liking, Shinji would discard his own clothes and ease his cock inside of her while she mewled and moaned underneath him. His long blonde locks draped over her body and tickled her skin as he claimed her--a slow and lazy pace at first, but as he got closer and closer to his peak, he was gripping her hips and chasing his high at a feverish speed.

When he finally came, he made sure to fill her womb with every drop of his seed and breed her properly. And to make sure his wife enjoyed their wedding night together, he kept his cock inside of her as he toyed with her clitoris and made her climax around him. As she fell into slumber after her ordeal, he nuzzled her cheek just as he'd done when she'd accepted his ring that afternoon.

#tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #.shinji #yandere shinji #.bleach #yandere bleach #.myshit #tw: breeding kink #fem darling

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capcavan · 7 months

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GIMME AN INCH I'LL TAKE A MILE!!!!

Badger in fox den - @jtl-fics

…And yet again the target of angry fans. Raven fans and Fox fans, one side mad for the cancellation of Edgar Allan the others mad for acquisition of Riko fucking Moriyama Riko seemingly escaped unpunished. He had three months to make his recovery and get back on the court with a team that managed to win this year’s championships. He was a traitor jumping a sinking ship, now despised by fans and team members alike. There was no future in Exy for him any more. No professional team would take a player who pulled such a move. If he moved to the Lions? Then maybe, but suddenly teaming up with Foxes was too convenient. This is all the sports channel was about nowadays. Wasting time on talking segments and more shocking news dragged out of ruins of Evermore Castle. It was useless for what Riko needed it for - Replays of games, Fox wins, pixelated blown out shitty recordings of Minyard breaking his arm. Yes, he liked those in particular. They made his arm hurt, and he reflexively brought his hand to hold the cast as if rubbing it gently could soothe the dull pain. It made his spine tingle and his nerve system wake, even if just for a bit. Outside of that? He felt dull. Curled up and small on the comfortable couch, he stared into the TV screen, which was the only source of light in the room. It was still too bright. On the ground before it was a piece of black fabric that he used to cover the screen once, wanting to soften the harsh light. It made the image behind it impossible to distinguish aside from colourful blobs of various intensity. In a similar way the windows of the apartment got covered too, it was just too damn bright. ty @noomyart for checking the text for me :*

#badger in fox den #<3 #riko moriyama #aftg #writting #cavanww #mywritting

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blogforfauna · 2 years

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Nyctereutes procyonoides

Like the raccoon, raccoon dogs (also known as tanuki) are highly adaptable animals with black masks and omnivorous diets. They aren’t related to raccoons, though, and are canines closely related to foxes.

To stay warm in the extremely cold temperatures of their native range in Eastern Asia, raccoon dogs have very long, thick fur with a dense undercoat. These thick coats made them a target for fur traders. Through the fur trade the raccoon dog was introduced to Europe, and they now have a large population with a wide distribution throughout the continent, and they are still spreading to surrounding areas. So basically they are slowly taking over the world and within a couple decades they’ll be colonizing mars.

Raccoon dogs are social animals, living and hunting in a pair or small pack, although pairs are most common. Sometimes when their thick fur isn’t enough to stay warm in the winter, these pairs hibernate in abandoned animal dens. Raccoon dogs are the only canines known to hibernate.

In the spring, raccoon dogs have litters that generally consist of around 6 pups, although larger litters of 10-16 have been recorded. Both parents care for these pups. Once the pups are able to hunt quite well on their own (generally around four months old), they leave to find their own territory and partner. Raccoon dogs aren’t very territorial and will migrate when prey becomes scarce. This prey includes frogs, fish, small mammals, plants, and basically anything edible. Raccoon dogs are very adaptable animals and the diets of those that live in cities consist of mostly garbage, just like the raccoon.

I rate the raccoon dog 14/10. Very adorable. I’ll take 3 of them

#raccoon #dog #raccoon dog #wild dog #dogs #animal #biology #zoology #animals #science #nature #wildlife #Asia

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go-foxes · 6 months

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Location: The Vixen Den Date: Friday, September 3rd Time: Victory Party (open)

Colin never misses a party. Especially one after a game they won—he's on his fifth year with the Foxes, and there have been far too few of those.

It's not like he wanted to come off the court tonight. It doesn't feel fair that Wymack and Abby made him, when he sat by and watched in the second half and saw Casey stay on after another dicey hit. It would have felt worse if they lost, if losing Colin and Kent and then Sterling one after another put their team into a hole they couldn't dig themselves out of—but they won.

It wasn't beautiful Exy by any stretch of the imagination. It was pretty fucking shitty, actually. But that doesn't matter, because they won. The season just begun, and they're already tied their record from last season. After this—it's all uphill.

Colin never misses a party, but maybe he should have tonight. His shoulder's sore, where it made contact with the Plexiglas. He passed all his concussion tests, but his head still hurts. But he wasn't about to just go back to Fox Tower, when the rest of the team is here. When it's his team, and it's his last year, and there's no telling how many more of these nights he'll have with them.

He could only last so long inside, though. Outside, the pounding of music and the dull roar of voices fades, and so does the pressure at his temples. He's got a beer in one hand, but he's barely had any of it—he can tell it wouldn't end well tonight.

But it still feels important to hold it. To put on a smile for the crowd, teammates and cheerleaders and strangers alike, and at the first hint of a concerned face say: "I'm fine. I'm not about to let a Southern Eagle take me out."

#i've said it before i'll say it again #PARTY TIME IS COLIN TIME #foxesstart #COLIN.#COLIN: INTERACTION

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omegaremix · 24 days

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25 Vinyl Records That Influenced My Vinyl Collecting Habits.

‘Top ten’ lists - they were so commonplace on social media before the pandemic that half of the people you knew participated in them. Your friends involuntarily posted lists of their top ten favorite albums, songs, movies, sports moments, video games, books, or whatever came to mind. Then they’d nominate you to do the same if you even cared. All of a sudden they stopped and for a few months everyone did tournament brackets. These days no one does either. Now, tag a band and see if they acknowledge you exist, solve a simple math problem where everyone with a Facebook diploma in mathematics are out to prove you wrong, or answer some useless questions to find out what your new gang initiation name is by removing your first and last letter and any surviving vowels.

But I don’t care about childish entry-level entertainment that everyone will forget about five minutes later. I’d watch Fox News for that. Longtime Ω+ followers know our ‘top tens’ are much more than that: they are playlists, mixtapes, end-of-year finds, and best-of decade results. That’s what I’m into. I’m into what’s important and that’s identifying with people. It’s not a contest or a be-all-end-all game of right-or-wrong. It’s all fully subjective. Without personal results, how special or unique would these lists be?

The last survey I was nominated to do was from WUSB’s Mister Edison, the station’s only cylinder aficionado in its’ 45-year history: top ten vinyl records that influenced your collecting habits. I did volunteer to do it and I was halfway there, then somehow along the way I deleted it. Now, here it is. But, instead of a top ten, we’ll do a top twenty-five because I’m compulsive and 10 is not a square number. All records shown here regardless of size, speed, color, or print run are those that have changed not only my record-collecting habits but also have shaped my musical tastes to an extent.

The record that started it all? KMFDM’s “Power” 12”. It was the very first vinyl record I bought with my own money, just mere months after purchasing most of its discography in one shot at my local record store. I ordered it from the TVT / Wax Trax mail order - my very first mail-order to be exact - numbered to 3,000 copies as a single-sided etched vinyl record in a clear plastic silk-screened jacket. That also came with Underworld’s “Rowla”. Shizuo’s High On Emotion e.p. was my third. Found at what was Port Jefferson’s Music Den, that’s a record I had to have at first sight because I knew it was extremely rare. Glad I made the right call because I never saw it again. Even though I didn’t have a turntable, I bought them anyway thinking I could hold on to them until I finally got my hands on one. Turned out my ma’ and dad had one: a wooden box smaller than the records it played. It literally had no sound and was deemed almost unplayable, so a close “friend” of mine gave me his father’s 1972 Panasonic and a copy of Autechre’s We Are R Y 12”. I was now in business.

From there, another one-time pressing of theirs, the “Keynell” e.p., introduced me to the panic of now-or-never buying. Booth & Brown collectors know how insanely rare their limited edition e.p.’s are and also how they and Warp divided up their Cichlisuite and Envane e.p.’s in two parts. And that was nothing to when Aphex Twin released not one, not two, but eleven e.p.’s as the Analord series through his Rephlex label. Ten regular platters and two versions of Analord 10: either you got the Aphex logo picture disc or, if you were really lucky (we mean that in a literal sense), one that came with the Analord binder which is fetching impossible prices right now. Some of them even came with the mythical Analogue Bubblebath 5. We’re just happy to have purchased all eleven editions for regular price when they first came out. Amazingly in that same year, I did my first-ever label run and purchased $300.00 worth of vinyl and disc releases from DHR.

The first hardcore record I got my hands on - Kill Your Idols’ This Is Just The Beginning - was also the very first music purchase I made at any show. Three years after one of my close friends introduced me to Sick Of It All and hardcore / punk in general, This Is Just The Beginning flung the doors wide open for crushing similar-styled tough-guy finds. Most Long Island record stores sold them when they came in, and places like Hicksville and Centereach’s Utopia (when they did sell them) offered many easy one / two / three-dollar bargain bin purchases of many 7” records, 45’s, and 12” LPS. The Howards & Checkerboard Charlie split is one example of that and one of many local acts I possess. Jemini The Gifted One’s “Funk Soul Sensation” is the only hip-hop record on the list. Ten years ago I re-discovered golden-era hip-hop and realized there was a treasure trove of white-label and 12” singles I never heard of from that time. Those hip-hop / rap singles can be found on the cheap in the same manner as those discount hardcore records. I’ll be on a life-time hunt for them as at this point I don’t have enough of them.

It’s no surprise to see that more than half of this list is made up of Seventies’ jazz / fusion records. If not for Lonnie Liston Smith & The Cosmic Echoes Astral Traveling, I would not have the size of vinyl library I have now. One of our former hip-hop dee-jays at the station played “Expansions”, “Aspirations”, and “Colors Of The Rainbow” and those three cuts literally changed my life. It opened up an avenue for me to re-discover who I was and revisit a certain era of time I missed out on. From that point on, it was all about that era’s sounds, sampling, and personal favorites. John Tropea’s A Short Trip To Space, Les McCann’s Music Lets Me Be, and Roy Ayers’ A Tear To A Smile - those three records define my final years at Stony Brook. Phil Upchurch’s 1979 solo outing, Stuff’s self-titled debut, Emily Remler’s Firefly, Steve Khan’s The Blue Man, Ramsey Lewis’ Tequila Mockingbird, Eric Gale’s Multiplication, and Ronnie Laws’ Pressure Sensitive tie me in and keep me connected to those years.

Karla Bonoff’s Restless Nights and Urbie Green’s The Fox influenced my collection in an amusing way. I had no idea who both artists were until I pulled them out of the bins. What had me purchase them? I bought Restless Nights and The Fox solely based on the year of release (1979 and 1976 respectively). One listen of each and I knew I made two right calls.

Remember when we posted our entry about our close friend Syke who rescued a pile of old records from being thrown out to the curb? Of the 500+ he found, he gave us 50 and we still have most of them. We selected Pete Shelley’s “Telephone Operator” as a reminder of that free giveaway.

I could list both volumes of the original Dirty Dancing motion picture soundtrack which my ma’ had, her only surviving childhood vinyl record of Disney’s Cinderella, or The Pac-Man Album 12″ picture disc written by Patrick McBride and Dana Walden. But those three mentions aren’t influential; just early Atari-youth memories. My first-ever childhood memories I still remember (not photographed) are also vinyl-related: J. Geils Band’s “Centerfold” and The Cars’ “Shake It Up”; the latter which I have in my possession and are the markers of all classic rock records I own around that era. (Think Dire Straits and Donald Fagan’s The Nightfly to name a few.)

Another Atari-youth moment I remember is The Chambers Brothers’ A New Time, A New Day. My dad cut out the album sleeve and used it as a paper holder in our garage. That very record made me think of whatever few platters I remember him having before he sold his entire vinyl library and our library of Atari 2600 games…for a paltry $50.00. “He needed the money” he told me; which is always a pathetic man’s answer to everything. Had he’d seen how enthusiastic I was into music collecting, he would’ve handed his entire collection to me. Roberta Flack’s Quiet Fire, Kiss’ Rock & Roll Over, and The Rolling Stones Sticky Fingers and Their Satanic Majesties Request were the four in his collection he parted with and I have three of them, not including The Chambers Brothers release. He tried to make it up to me, however, by bringing home two separate piles of records he rescued from the curb. One heap was full of polka records which I donated to WUSB’s resident polka lady before she died the same year. The other heap? Since you didn’t ask: loads of classic hippie rock records, showtunes, and celebrity albums. Jim Nabors on wax? Stop before I deactivate this account.

Finally, Boulders’ Rock & Roll Will Never Die. Look it up and you’ll see it’s a near total obscurity only confined to hipster circles who know what’s up. A five-track Wharf Records release picked up for less than $3.00 is the one 12" that may as well get me into the Discogs purchasing game for all rare releases (not found in stores) I’ve been looking for in the past seven years. I’ve played many of them on Omega WUSBand soon after bought a substantial chunk of their discographies in one shot (three Happy Meals / Free Love LP’s and three Black Marble discs, for example). As a nice side effect, it’ll be the the same for cassettes as well such as Believer/Law’s Matters Of Life And Death and JS Aurelius’ Machines Water The Plants Now - if the seller’s price is right, that is.

Notice how we went from KMFDM to Boulders? You can’t get any more disparate in styles and worlds between the two. The first purchases, public library finds, donations, record fairs, mail orders, samples, jazz-fusion and soul, hardcore and hip-hop buy-outs, record-store victory tours, and many other moments I might have missed…that’s 25 years of buying vinyl records spanning many different collecting eras and genres for me. That’s only one format, and also not counting acquiring music by other means such as radio and downloads which also shaped my collection. The bingo board jumble you see is only a tiny pinch of my musical tastes and not the whole story of my listening habits that’s usually broadcast on Omega WUSB or always posted here on Ω+.

After making this list, I’m reminded that I’m the most diverse person I know. I’m proud that my low-lying threshold for accepting and liking sound and concept allowed me to make that diversity into a science and have that mind-blowing knowledge I have of it. I’m as consistent, thorough, and far-reaching as I possibly can while hitting as many targets as possible. Would there be more bingo boards like this? Only if I make sure of it.

Phil Upchurch: self-titled

Lonnie Liston Smith: Astral Traveling

Karla Bonoff: Restless Nights

Steve Khan: The Blue Man

Chambers Brothers: A New Time, A New Day

Emily Remler: Firefly

Boulders: Rock And Roll Will Never Die

KMFDM: “Power”

John Tropea: A Short Trip To Space

Les McCann: Music Let’s Me Be

Shizuo: High On Emotion

J. Geils Band: “Centerfold”

Aphex Twin: Analord 10 picture disc

Jemini The Gifted One: “Funk Soul Sensation”

Roy Ayers: A Tear To A Smile

Ramsey Lewis: Tequila Mockingbird

Pete Shelley: “Telephone Operator”

Autechre: “Keynell”

Kill Your Idols: This Is Just The Beginning

The Cars: Shake It Up

Ronnie Laws: Pressure Sensitive

Stuff: Stuff

Eric Gale: Multiplication

Urbie Green: The Fox

Checkerboard Charlie b/w The Howards split

#omega #music #mixtapes #playlists #perosnal #vinyl #records #jazz #fusion #soul #noise rock #industrial #electronic #rock #hip-hop #new wave #ska

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caxycreations · 10 months

Text

Introduction to Caxy Creations and Relan

Hello everyone, I am Caxy Creations. You can call me Davina. My fursona is a caxy (half-cat, half-fox. Specifically, half Russian Blue domestic cat and half Arctic Fox).

I am an author, an artist, a streamer, and more. I love to dabble in all forms of creation. To get some base details out of the way...

I'm 25 years old, she/her, in a committed and very happy poly relationship, and I'm as casual a person as you'll ever meet.

I have a series of stories called "Tylvinian Tales", with the main story being titled "Tylvinian Tales: The Wolf's Den". All of my stories take place on a planet called Relan, a world of anthropomorphic animals and mythological creatures, with science and magic in equal amounts.

I wanted to make an intro to Relan, to try and hit some of the highlights. I will elaborate on everything listed below in future posts, but as this is simply an introduction I have decided to focus more on revealing the basics rather than elaborating on all of their little details.

For ease of reading, and for organization, I'm breaking this down into seven "chapters", most of which link to posts that go into greater detail on that topic. Click on a chapter title to be taken to the dedicated post, and do bear in mind they are introductory posts: there are intricate and complex underlying circumstances within each country that cannot be explained in generalized posts detailing their basic culture and concept.

Geography

Cultures

Countries

Religions

Time Formats

Scientific Advancements

Magic

Special Notes

So without further ado...

Geography

Relanian geography is divided into five categories.

Fungal

Floral

Woodland

Mountain

Reef

And each category is divided into subcategories

Fungal 1 - Sapro-fungal

Fungal 2 - Para-fungal

Floral 1 - Herbal

Floral 2 - Flowering

Floral 3 - Mossy

Woodland 1 - Deciduous

Woodland 2 - Coniferous

Mountain 1 - Rocky

Mountain 2 - Desert

Reef 1 - Rocky

Reef 2 - Algae

Reef 3 - Cavernous

Reef 4 - Green

More can be found on the individual biomes and their characteristics in future posts.

Cultures

There are five major cultures on Relan. They are as follows:

Senkanorian

Ferusian

Dornumite

Andronian

Eikirian

Countries

The world is divided into six countries, which are as follows:

Sen

Kanor

Ferus

Dornum

Andronia

Eikiria

Sen and Kanor originated as a single country, and were divided by warlords vying for control. As such, their cultures are nearly identical, with very few differences.

More on the countries and their cultures in future posts.

Religions

There are very few religions on Relan, though there are some distinct theological beliefs, as listed below.

Gaian (This link leads to Relanian Gods post)

Naturism

Ancestral

Gaian is the most widespread of the three, and focuses on the Relanian Gods after which the months of the year are named: Gaius, Malor, Fina, Escor, Jan, and Dinora.

On Relan, divinity is not a hotly debated topic, but rather a fact of reality known to be true. The evidence exists in the storms that cover the world a few times a year, the records of sentience itself, and the magic abilities that every living thing exhibit.

More on each God and their domains, abilities, and ideologies in future posts.

Time Formats

The 12-hour clock most of us are used to is the most commonly used format on Relan as well, though "military time" exists as well. However, that is where the similarities taper out.

There are six months in a year, and one year is 360 days. Leap years do not exist. The months of the year are named after the Gaian pantheon, and are, in order from first to last, Gaius, Fina, Escor, Jan, Malor, and Dinora.

Months are categorized as such due to the unique nature of the Gods that govern the planet. Over time, some grow weaker while others grow stronger. These times were observed, and used as the basis for "one month" of time passing. Gaius is at his strongest at the beginning of the year, while the other gods are far weaker, resulting in Gaius being the namesake of the first "month", and when his power wanes and Fina's begins to grow, it is the start of the second "month", and so on. Rather than the planet's years being measured in solar orbits, it is measured by the cycle of power, with one year being complete when Dinora's power wanes and Gaius' power grows again.

Years are measured by how many it has been since the Gods made first contact, with first contact being recorded as the year "zero". There is no A.D, no B.C, simply counting up from first contact as the years go by.

Our current year of 2023 is analogous, scientifically and culturally, to the year 4023 on Relan, with Relan's first recorded contact with the gods being 4,023 years prior. Time is managed this way due to the complete lack of sentient life on the planet prior to the Gods making first contact.

Dates, as such, are written as "[Day Number] of [God Name], [Years since first contact]". For example, my character Ryder Trayson was born on the following date: 30th of Gaius, 3995. This makes him 25 during the time of the main story "Wolf's Den", which begins on the 24th of Jan, 4020.

Scientific Advancements

Relanian science is a global effort, with "military science" being privatized by country. The scientists of the world work without cultural borders, operating together for the betterment of the world.

They focus on necessity over desire, and as a result, some things have gotten far more attention than others. The Worldwide Enclave of Benevolent Scientists (or "WEBS") lists the following as the three areas of greatest importance to the world:

Medical - Medical science is the greatest concern, and the largest focus. Disease and injury are intolerable, and must be treated as the greatest threats to life. As such, medical science is the largest focus and has the greatest advancement.

Natural - Natural science is the second greatest. Understanding the world they are on is of great importance, to better protect the planet and its environment for a sustainable existence on Relan.

Technological - Technological science is third. It is any science related to technological convenience. Entertainment, comfort, and the like are considered "low" priority, but of great importance, as WEBS states "Living without Survival is impossible, but Survival without Living is meaningless". As such, Relanian "creature comforts" are plenty, but ever-so-slightly behind our own world in advancement. However, industrial advancements are slightly ahead, as some corporations have privatized sects of scientists to develop easier, cheaper methods of production.

A few examples of their advancements are:

Medical - They have developed a cure for the common cold, and have treatments for cancer that are known to work a majority of the time. There are chemical agents that promote healing of injury that can heal cuts and scrapes in a day or less, and medical advances that allow for a wide variety of organ transplants with synthetic organs.

Natural - They have explored roughly 87% of the oceans, with Eikirians (ocean-dwellers) assisting land-dwelling divers in harder-to-navigate areas. The remaining sections of the ocean left unexplored are due to technological limitations and deep-water pressure. There are also extensive records of most land-dwelling and water-dwelling species of both Sentients and Ferals. Their understanding and preservation of environments and climates are also a couple of decades ahead of our own.

Technological - Varies between more advanced and less advanced depending on the field. Industrial technology is very advanced, with construction companies able to build skyscrapers several hundred feet high in less than a week, while factories have triple, or quadruple depending on the company, the output an Earth factory might have. However, their entertainment tech is fairly behind, with VR being a brand new concept as of 4020, and with color television being as recent as 3990. This is due to necessary fields taking priority over unnecessary fields of research.

There's much more to Relanian science than this, but that will have to wait for future posts!

Magic

Magic does exist on Relan, and it's where the creatures gain their sentience. Magic was introduced into the world when the Gods made first contact, pouring their collective magic into the ancient Ferals, granting them sentience and thought, reason and logic.

While magic was initially a powerful tool, capable of being wielded by skilled mages and practitioners, it has since dwindled down to a weak, but ever-present force. In the modern day, magic exists in very few forms, but very widespread forms.

Today, magic exists in the following:

Blessings. Abilities and powers as unique as the individual bearing them.

Mythicals. Sentient beings not analogous with any Feral beast. They are the Heavusi, the Wendigo, the Griffons, Dragons, etc. All mythological creatures of Earth exist as Mythicals on Relan, and are the longest-lived species on the planet, as well as the ones with the greatest connection to magic.

Storms. Relanian weather is largely predictable and plain, with very very little in the way of true storms. However, as the Gods power wanes and grows, it forms disturbances in the magic of the world. When these powers clash and their charge grows too great, the entire planet feels it. Great storms erupt, with powerful lightning bolts covering the globe for several hours, striking the surface several thousand times in the process. True storms, though they only happen a couple of times a year, are the largest concentration of magic in the modern world.

More on Blessings, Mythicals, and True Storms in future posts!

Special Notes

Relan is home to a wide and ever-growing variety of creature. Life evolves in all forms, and most species, real and fictional, exist on the planet. As such there is no limit to the type of being that can exist on the world, though there are differences in Relanian life and their off-world counterparts!

So if anything here has you curious, feel free to ask for more information, or present your curiosities! I love sharing my world, and my goal is to create a world others want to be a part of, so if you have interest in ANY of the topics presented in this introduction, by all means ask about it!

Thank you all for reading this far, and I intend to get more posted here as soon as I can. Until then, thank you and have a wonderful day!

#literature #worldbuilding #modern fantasy #fiction #anthro #introduction

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barrenclan · 1 year

Note

It was snowing.

Back where Cormorantpaw used to live with Egrettail, snow was a rare sight. He only experienced it once, back when he was just a kit. He can’t remember it. At least, not that well. He remembers his mother watching him tumble and play in the snow, and he remembers Thrasher yelling at him.

He thinks he only remembers it because it was the first time he can actually remember getting yelled at.

Needless to say, he was somewhat nostalgic from the sight of the gentle flurries falling down, and despite the darkness of the apprentice den, he was able to watch the snow fall down.

He shifted in his nest, his tail drooped over the moss. He had to admit, with the extra moss, the nest felt nice.

I can’t believe that mouse-brained cat gave almost every cat extra bedding, Cormorantpaw thought bitterly. I mean, Cypressfoot, Nightberry, and Blacknose I understand, but why did almost every cat need it? Seems like a waste of moss.

Cormorantpaw knew why. The clan was small. If one cat got sick, it wouldn’t be long before everyone did. And Cootstorm was practically never in camp during the snow, because she ‘needed to find cat mint’. Cormorantpaw thinks she just wants to leave the camp for the day. He can’t blame her.

Leaving all the work to poor Pinepaw, he thought, nuzzling his muzzle into the moss, tail flicking. Poor Pinepaw? What next, I’m going to start calling Egrettail my sister? I’m turning soft.

Almost as soon as he set his head down, he raised it up again, hearing paw-steps come closer to the den.

“Asphodel? Daff? Either of you awake?” Pinepaw asks, tone leaking with excitement as he sticks his head into the den, sending flurries scattering down his muzzle and onto the floor.

Cormorantpaw’s shoulders droop. Just the feather-brain.

“No, Pinepaw, just me,” Surprisingly, even Daffodilpaw was asleep. “Aren’t you usually asleep by now?“

Cormorantpaw wasn’t quite expecting Pinepaw to let out a small, hearty purr of amusement.

“C’mon, Cormorantpaw! It’s sewing! Qe should be enjoying it while it lasts!”

Cormorantpaw’s nose scrunches. “Sewing? It’s pronounced Snowing.”

Pinepaw lets out an amused huff, followed by a cough. “Oh, shush, you fox-heart! You’ve been in the den practically all day!”

“So?” Cormorantpaw scoffs, resting his head on his paws. Wow, forget turning soft. I’m just turning into a fox-heart. Why am I being so mean to the nicest cat in the clan? Next thing I know I’ll be acting like Thrasher.

“Sooo..” Pinepaw considers his next words closely. “Come out and play with me!”

Cormorantpaw stares at Pinepaw, confused. If he didn’t have dignity, he was certain he would be gawking in amazement. He assumed Pinepaw was mad at him, or just hated him or something. Ever since Daffodilpaw started talking to him, Pinepaw was doing everything in his power to avoid the raven-furred tom. And play in the snow? What were they, kits?

“Play? Why?” He scoffs, tail flicking slightly. He knows Pinepaw doesn’t have a bad intention, but still. What apprentice still plays in the snow?

Pinepaw lets out a sneeze.

“Well.. because it’s fun. And besides, it’ll be good exercise! And we can practice hunting and fighting!”

Cormorantpaw scoffs, lashing his tail. So, yeah, maybe playing in the snow sounded pretty great right about now. But what if some cat saw? Did he have any dignity?

Pinepaw’s smile wavered as Cormorantpaw looked away.

“Oh, well. Tell Daffodilpaw that she can join if she wants! Asphodelpaw, too, but you know she won’t wake up unless she’s being murdered by a badger.”

Cormorantpaw didn’t get the chance to tell him that if Asphodelpaw was getting murdered by a badger, she wouldn’t wake up at all. Pinepaw was out the den in record time, unintentionally spraying snow inside.

Cormorantpaw huffed. Mouse-brained cat, he thought, curling up to go to sleep.

He waited for his thoughts to settle. And waited. And waited.

“Great.” He grunts, eyes snapping open. He couldn’t sleep. Not when he knew his one chance at playing in the snow, without judgement, was right outside.

He heaved himself to his paws. What are you doing? He suddenly thought. Playing in the snow?! With the cat that gets you sick?! What are you, a helpless kit? Go back to your nest, unless you don’t care anything about pride.

Cormorantpaw started lowering himself back down, before perking up again. No, shut up. It’s not mouse-brained. Pinepaw’s doing it. And Pinepaw, sometimes, isn’t a mouse-brain.

He storms outside the den, grumbling at his thoughts.

Pinepaw is play-fighting a dead shrub in camp. Cormorantpaw grimaces at the attempt.

“No, No, Pinepaw, you’re doing it- you’re doing it wrong, Pinepaw.” He groans, giving up on watching the tom attempt at the attack. Pinepaw stumbles over his own paws at the sudden statement, leaving a deep dent in the snow. He sneezes, scrambles back to his paws, and shakes snow out of his head.

“Is it?” He asks with a curious tone. He was doing the thing again, where he stands on the tips of his paws at the idea of someth-

No! Bad, Cormorantpaw! The clan is turning me mushy! Stop noticing little, unimportant things about him!

“You’re putting all your weight in your hind legs. The jump is important, sure, but you need to actually get force on your front paws to do anything.” Cormorantpaw scoffs. Did no one teach Pinepaw anything?

Pinepaw looks at him with a dubious glance. Cormorantpaw returns it with a glare.

Excuse me for trying to help, he thinks, turning away to walk back into the den. This was a bad idea. Before he knows it, he feels something leap onto his back. Whatever it is clearly missed, since they ended up hitting him on his head with a paw, before falling down onto the snow with a thud. Cormorantpaw pounces on whatever it is, hissing.

A fight! A real fight! I knew that this clan wasn’t this soft! Cormorantpaw thinks excitedly, tail lashing as he tries to focus on whatever it is. Getting hit right between the eyes tends to jumble your vision a bit.

Cormorantpaw’s shoulders slump in an odd mix of relief, disappointment, and another feeling he can’t quite comprehend as he hears the familiar purr of amusement from Pinepaw.

“You can’t do that, Pinepaw! You scared me half to-“ Cormorantpaw only gets halfway through his lecture when Pinepaw bats at his muzzle playfully. Cormorantpaw lets out a low hiss. He felt too childish doing this. When Pinepaw rolls away, clearly excited now, he sighs. Might as well humor him a little. Just a favor. Not going soft.

Pinepaw lunges forward, front paw outstretched, with sheathed claws, as he aims for Cormorantpaw’s chest. Cormorantpaw jumps away, hissing.

“Pinepaw, you’re being too slow. If you want to actually attack me, do what you did earlier. Wait for me to be unprepared, then do an attack that would be effective. Remember, I have more experience then you.”

Who gives advice to their opponent?! Are you a mouse-brain?!

Pinepaw nods quickly, coughing for a few moments. Cormorantpaw lashes forward, batting him hard on the head. Pinepaw has good instincts, he must admit, and manages to spring onto his back. Though he slips off quite quickly, he manages a hard kick at Cormorantpaw’s side, making him wobble slightly and hiss.

Pinepaw’s head spikes up in worry, and Cormorantpaw regains his balance. After a quick, approving glance towards Pinepaw, he leaps down and nips at his neck playfully.

Since when did you come here to play?! You came to practice fighting! You’re so soft now. What, can you even fight with claws anymore?

Pinepaw lets out a playful yowl, rearing up and batting lightly at Cormorantpaw’s stomach. Cormorantpaw feels an odd feeling in his throat, and he nearly falls over in surprise.

“No. Way,” Pinepaw suddenly gasps. “Did I just get the great Cormorantpaw, stone faced as ever, to purr? Wow! I can not wait to tell Asphodelpaw about this!!”

Cormorantpaw hisses, not quite as amused. He shoves himself forward, head-butting Pinepaw square in the chest.

Cormorantpaw stumbles back in surprise as Pinepaw erupts into a coughing fit.

Well, he wasn’t surprised at coughing; That was common when getting hit in the chest. But that wasn’t just ‘I just got my airways blocked’ coughing, it was also ‘I’m sick’ coughing.

Now that he thought about it, Pinepaw had been coughing and sneezing all day. He was sniffling a lot too. And seemed really tired.

“Pinepaw! Are you sick?! And didn’t tell any cat?!” Cormorantpaw hissed, fur rising. That mouse-brain! He was taking care of everyone when he couldn’t even take care of himself?!

“N-No! No, I’m f-“ Pinepaw’s statement was interrupted by a coughing fit. “I’m fine! Just-.. Just a cold! I’ll get some herbs later for it. No reason to worry Cootstorm.”

“You- You ignorant, selfish mouse-brain! Imagine if it was green-cough! Or worse! Cootstorm’s whole job is to make sure you don’t get sick! And what do you think Daffodilpaw, or Asphodelpaw, or Slugpelt would think, if they woke up one day yo find out you died of green cough overnight!” Cormorantpaw left out the part about hoe upset he himself would be.

Pinepaw shuffles his paws, brows furrowing. He does that when he isn’t sure, Cormorantpaw remembers.

“You really think they’d care that much?” He asks.

“Yes. They would. Now, go to your nest or I’ll get Mallowstar and Cootstorm.” Cormorantpaw snarls.

Pinepaw’s fur raises, and he quickly ducks into the den. Cormorantpaw storms in behind him.

Stupid, stupid mouse-brain. You’re so soft now. You can’t do anything right, can you? What happened to your dignity, huh?

Cormorantpaw froze, staring at what Pinrpaw just laid down it. That didn’t look like a nest. That looked like two moss balls.

“Pinepaw, what happened to your nest?!” Cormorantpaw hissed, carefully stepping over Daffodilpaw’s tail.

“I- Well, with the chill in the nursery, I figured Blacknose could use more moss.” Pinepaw says.

Cormorantpaw sucks in a breath, before sighing heavily. “Just- Just go to sleep. I’m already mad enough as is.”

Cormorantpaw flops down into his nest, his brain arguing with itself. It’s odd. It’s his brain, but he feels like he’s catching snippets of a conversation that isn’t his own. He isn’t able to track what’s going on, when it’s happening, whatever.

It isn’t long before Pinepaw starts snoring.

Don’t do it. Now his brain sounded like his own again. All day you’ve been worried about if you’re too soft. If you do this, you’re essentially saying ‘yeah, I’m a soft, weak, mushy pushover!’

If you don’t do this, you will feel like the worst cat alive.

Cormorantpaw stands up. Don’t. Don’t be weak like you say you are. Cormorantpaw strolls over to Pinepaw’s nest, grabbing his scruff. Keep going, or next sunrise you’ll feel awful. You’ll feel like the worst cat in the history of the world. Cormorantpaw gently drags Pinepaw over to his own nest. Stop. Stop being a pathetic pushover. What would Thrasher say?

Cormorantpaw nearly stumbles over his own paws at the last words. He hisses a retort to himself, before flopping down next to Pinepaw.

Pinepaw turns around, tucking his head under Cormorantpaw’s.

Pathetic is the last word Cormorantpaw thinks before falling asleep.

(yall we should start a patfw tag in ao3)

Oh my GOD this is so cute. Pure sugar and fluff I LOVE IT. Plus it's quite a bit of writing, very impressive!

Cormorantpaw's inner thoughts are so perfect. Silly little man always trying to be so tough. I especially like whenever he compares himself to Thrasher when he thinks he's being weak or soft. Hmm... good reading of his character! :)

Oh, the "A gets sick and B has to take care of them under duress... unless?!" Such a classic. I read a great fic with that premise once.

Thank you so much for this! So charming! If you do start a PATFW tag on AO3 I'll cry for real. I can't believe how much writing this story is inspiring, it warms my heart.

#ask #anon #fanfic #pinepaw #cormorantpaw

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mosraev · 9 months

Text

youtube

Vil du tage imod mit livstunge hjerte,

så smertefrit jeg flyder på himlens hav?//

Would you accept my lifeburdened heart

So I can float painlessly around in the sky sea? - Diana (Mosræv, 2019)

This is a lot of firsts on this blog: it is the first live recording and the first danish song! This is an evening song that mixes artistic language with imagery of the roman goddess of the moon, Diana. Also it is one of the videos in my 'try to be ultra feminine to supress the gender dysphoria' era (the video after this is even worse).

Recorded on my yearly summer camp on 07/26/19 - Pre-T - Lyrics (original and translated) under the line

Stay creative, my fellow foxes 🦊💚

Diana - danish lyrics:

Svalernes gang løber over min køje.

[De] genfinder klang i aftnens rytmik.

Dit gavmilde smil genspejles i himlets øje.

Jeg tager endnu en tår af tusmørkets drink.

Venlige blink fra fjerne planeter.

Pletter af pink som penselstrøg.

Jeg breder sindet ud på stærke vinger,

de bringer mig hjem i en media res [mens jeg] ser dagen på repeat.

Åh woah, Diana.

Månejomfru, vogt over mig i min søvn.

Åh woah, Diana,

du rider mareridtets hest til den lyse dag.

Dit sølvhvide barn lyser op i det fjerne.

Nu uglen tuder med på dit navn.

Vil du tage imod mit livstunge hjerte,

så smertefrit jeg flyder på himlens hav?

Åh woah, Diana.

Månejomfru, vogt over mig i min søvn.

Åh woah, Diana,

du rider mareridtets hest til den lyse dag

Åh woah, Diana.

Månejomfru, vogt over jordens børn.

Åh woah, Diana.

Du stjernernes elskerinde, Orion.

Du er åh woah Diana.

Diana - english (translated) lyrics:

The march of the swallows runs across my hammock.

[They] find their place in with the rhytmn of the evening.

Your generous smile is reflecting in the eye of the sky.

I take another sip of the drink of twilight.

Distant planets sends friendly winks [our way].

[Like] Spots of pink like brushstrokes [in the sky].

I spread out my mind like it was strong wings

that brings me home in an in medias res

[while I] watch the day on repeat.

Oh woah, Diana.

Moon virgin, guard me while I sleep.

Oh woah, Diana,

you'll ride the nightmare horse until night turns to day.

Your silverwhite child is shining from afar.

Now the owl is howling and calling your name.

Would you accept my lifeburdened heart

So I can float painlessly around in the sky sea?

Oh woah, Diana.

Moon virgin, guard me while I sleep.

Oh woah, Diana,

you'll ride the nightmare horse until night turns to day.

Oh woah, Diana.

Moon virgin, guard the children of Earth.

Oh woah, Diana You are the lover of the stars, Orion.

You are oh woah Diana.

#original song #danish song #diana #translated lyrics #pre-t recording #pre-t #mosraev #mosræv #Youtube #2019

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firecroft · 2 years

Text

– Jeg gikk vanvittig i kjelleren

Bård og Vegard sier det er en selvfølge at lillebroren skulle være med på siste prosjekt. Bjarte Ylvisåker (33) har aldri følt seg bitter i brødrenes skygge – men det er spesielt en ting han angrer på.

VILDE HAUGEN

FREDRIK SOLSTAD (FOTO)

Publisert: 22.10.22 kl. 17:31

– For et års tid siden var jeg nok skuffet over meg selv. Men jeg ville nok ikke ha innrømt det dersom du spurte meg den gang, sier Bjarte Ylvisåker (33).

Ti år yngre enn sin eldste bror er han en solid attpåklatt i familien. Som lillebroren til humorduoen Bård (40) og Vegard Ylvisåker (43) er yngstemann i rekken mest kjent for å være ukjent.

– En gang de ble intervjuet av Rolling Stone, spurte journalisten hva jeg gjorde der sammen med dem. Jeg svarte at jeg var der for å få gratis mat, sier 33-åringen.

– Det var jo derfor vi tok deg med nå. Vi har synes synd på Bjarte lenge. Det var en slags barmhjertelighetsgreie, supplerer Bård Ylvisåker spøkefullt.

Til tross for hustrig oktobervind, er latteren løs og vitsefaktoren høy da VG møter samtlige av brødrene Ylvisåker. Den neste timen skal uttrykket «off the record»bli brukt gjentatte ganger – før det blir servert humorfylte historier som av ulike årsaker ikke egentlig egner seg på trykk.

Internasjonal suksess

Det er over 20 år siden Ylvis fikk sitt store gjennombrudd i Norge med «Ylvis – en kabaret». Fra 2011 til 2016 ledet Bård og Vegard programmet «I kveld med Ylvis», med komiker og «Ikke lov å le på hytta»-deltager Calle Hellevang-Larsen som sidekick.

Det var på dette talkshowet at musikkvideoen «The Fox (What Does the Fox Say?)» ble født. Stargate-låten tok verden med storm, og satte brødrene på det internasjonale kartet. I et nylig intervju fortalte Vegard blant annet om den surrealistiske Hollywood-opplevelsen som fulgte.

Det var også på «I kveld med Ylvis» at Bjarte Ylvisåker debuterte med «I Will Never Be a Star» året etter. I låten spøker han med at han aldri vil bli like profilert som sine eldre brødre – eller opptre på en stor scene.

Ironisk nok fremførte han låten både foran et fullsatt Oslo Spektrum – og for 30 000 publikummere i Slovakia.

– Å stå der å synge, med ganske tynn vokal, er teknisk vanskelig når du ikke har gjort det før. Det er det som er så fint med Bjarte. Han er alltid med på ting, uten å stille kritiske spørsmål, sier Bård.

– Burde takket nei

Nå, åtte år senere, gjør yngstemann i rekken et comeback i rampelyset i brødrenes nyeste påfunn, VGTV-serien «Ylvis i Sogn». På to uker skal de tre brødrene lage åtte nye hitlåter i sine forfedres trakter.

Bård omtaler det hele som en «horribelt dårlig idé».

– Jeg takket ja til noe vi absolutt burde takket nei til. Men vi var på et sted hvor det føltes digg å gjøre noe kjapt og ukontrollert, forteller han.

– Og så tar Bård denne ideen og foredler den på en måte bare han kan: Han gjør den enda verre, stemmer Vegard i.

For selv om de tre brødrene vokste opp i Bergen, er foreldrene opprinnelig fra Sogndal.

– Ideen kom ikke ut av det blå. Vi har alltid hatt et slags elsk/hat-forhold til Sogn. Dette var litt nærliggende, og det kunne bli noe annet enn vi hadde gjort tidligere, sier Bård.

Han dytter Bjarte i skulderen, og ber ham komme med et kult sitat til VG.

– Bjarte har ikke medietrening, vet du.

Men fra spøk til alvor: Bård og Vegard understreker i all seriøsitet at det var en selvfølge at Bjarte skulle være med på det nye konseptet.

– Vi har gjentatt det til det kjedsommelige, men da vi startet vår greie, var Bjarte tolv år gammel. Det var ikke naturlig at han skulle bli en del av hva vi fant på den gang. For utenforstående er det nok en stor endring at Bjarte er med nå. Men vi har jo kjent ham hele livet, sier Vegard.

Så tar alvoret slutt:

– Og nå tenkte vi at dette kan jo gå dårlig, så da er det fint å ha noen å skylde på, legger Bård til.

Attpåklatten Sigrid

Da Bjarte entret livene deres med tittelen «lillebror» i 1989, var det i en turkis barnevogn. At moren ikke var glad i rosa var et heldig sammentreff – de trodde nemlig at Bjarte skulle bli en jente.

– Han hadde jo ikke så mye å skimte med på ultralyden, da. Så vi kaller ham bare for onkel Sigrid, humrer Vegard.

Bjartes eksistens var ikke planlagt. Men den var på mange måter ønsket. Foreldrene Helga og Hans Terje har tilbrakt nærmere åtte år i Afrika til sammen – flere av dem med sønnene – og forsøkte også å adoptere fra Mosambik.

En nyinnført lov i landet forbød imidlertid adopsjon til andre land, forteller moren til VG.

– Vi var veldig klare for å få en til. Da måtte vi bare lage ham selv, sier hun på telefon fra Sogndal.

At deres to eldste sønner skulle bli internasjonalt anerkjent i sitt virke, lå ikke i kortene. Moren forteller at de riktignok støttet dem i ønsket om å prøve seg i «showbiz».

– De hadde studieplasser begge to, men vi ba dem vente. Det var litt skummelt. Men vi kjente jo Vegard og Bård så godt at vi visste at det bodde mye i dem når det gjaldt musikk og gjøgleri.

– Men vi trodde ærlig talt det ville bli et lite blaff, og at de skulle begynne å studere etterpå når de hadde hatt moroa si.

Yngstemann i flokken har delt brødrenes interesse for musikk og teater siden barndommen. Som 13-åring spilte han i en oppsetning av «I Blanke Messingen» i Bergen.

I voksen alder har Bjarte Ylvisåker imidlertid gått andre veier enn sine kjendisbrødre.

– Jeg vil si at vi har et ganske normalt søskenforhold. Det har ikke vært et aktivt valg å ikke være med på det Bård og Vegard gjør. Men jeg er opptatt av at det skal være naturlig. Det er selvsagt gøy å få være med på ting som dette, men jeg har ikke gjort noe for å fortjene det, konstaterer han.

Røverhistoriene fra ungdommen er mange. Som da Vegard mistet busskortet og hevdet han ble ranet av frykt for å få kjeft.

– Den løgnen bare ballet på seg. Å krasje bilen var ingenting i forhold, sier Vegard med en latter.

For med Bjartes ankomst i familien fulgte også innkjøp av ny familiebil – som senere møtte sin undergang takket være en katt, en skrent og et dårlig håndbrekk.

– Vegard totalvraket bilen som 19-åring fordi han måtte ut og klappe en rar katt. Det er den dårligste unnskyldningen noensinne, hevder Bjarte.

– Men dette ble veldig skjevt. Jeg har også gjort mange feil opp igjennom årene, konkluderer Bård.

Det var riktignok Bjarte som ga foreldrene mest hodepine, ifølge Bård og Vegard.

– Bjarte var nok mer bortskjemt enn oss, på godt og vondt.

Takket være sine eldre brødre, lærte Bjarte seg tidlig å ta igjen, sier moren.

– Bjarte hadde et større temperament enn Bård og Vegard. Men han hadde to storebrødre som blandet seg inn, og beskyttet ham. Bjarte lærte seg å svare som en tiåring da han var fem.

Karrieredrømmen som brast

33-åringen er for tiden ansatt i bedriften Splay Norge, og jobber med video og branded entertainment. Veien til en karriere han trives i, har imidlertid vært kronglete.

– Jeg har aldri hatt noen sånn følelse av at «dette skal jeg bli». For meg har det handlet om å skyte fra hoften og satse på at det går fint.

Ønsket om å bli helikopterpilot førte ham imidlertid til USA i begynnelsen av tyveårene. I fem år tok Bjarte omfattende studier for å realisere drømmen.

– Jeg måtte konvertere pilotutdannelsen til norsk lovgivning da jeg kom hjem. For å gjøre en lang historie kort, viste det seg å være mer komplisert enn jeg trodde, forteller han.

Storbritannias Brexit skulle også stikke kjepper i helikopterrotoren. Bjarte tok fjernstudier i England, da skolen mistet retten til å utdanne utenlandske studenter.

– Da gikk jeg vanvittig i kjelleren, og visste ikke hva jeg skulle gjøre. Å skulle begynne på samme utdannelse for tredje gang, det satt så langt inne, forteller han.

Bjarte innrømmer at det noen ganger har vært vanskelig ikke å sammenligne seg selv med sine eldre brødre.

– Det er vanskelig å komme unna. De har gjort det jævlig bra med mange ting, mens jeg satt med en feilet utdannelse i kassen på KIWI. Men det er ingenting annet enn hvis du har en bror som er lege for eksempel. Det spiller ingen rolle hva grunnlaget for den andre personens suksess er.

– Og det handler jo ikke om at jeg har vært misunnelig og ikke unner dem noe. Det er mer fordi jeg var skuffet over egen prestasjon.

– Du har vært skuffet over deg selv?

– Hadde du spurt meg for ett år siden, hadde jeg neppe sagt ja.

– Men jeg hadde nok tenkt det selv, sier Bjarte.

Han har aldri følt på bitterhet overfor brødrenes suksess.

– Det har aldri vært noe sånn «faen ta de». Om jeg har vært misunnelig, har jeg i så fall tenkt at ting de gjør virker fett og at jeg også vil gjøre det. Men så har jeg jo ikke gjort en innsats for å få det til å skje.

33-åringen mener på ingen måte at han matcher brødrenes talenter når det kommer til musikk, komedie og TV. Men noen ganger kan han kjenne på anger over fortiden.

– Det er irriterende å vite at man har hatt potensialet til å gjøre noe bra, og så har det bare kokt ut i kålen. Det er mange grunner man kan skylde på for at ting har blitt som de har blitt, men til syvende og sist koker det ned til avgjørelser jeg har tatt, sier Bjarte.

– Og det å vite at man ikke alltid har tatt optimale avgjørelser i livet er jo lite fett.

I dag er perspektivet annerledes. En ny jobb som utfordrer ham, tror Bjarte har mye av æren.

– Jeg kommer nok aldri til å jobbe som helikopterpilot. Men om jeg får råd til det, vil jeg i hvert fall få tatt lappen i Norge også.

«Den ukjente broren»

Merkelappen «den ukjente broren» har fulgt Bjarte siden tenårene. For ham har brødrenes suksess blitt en lakmustest som skiller venner fra bekjente.

– Enten er jeg bare Bjarte, eller så er jeg «broren til Ylvis». Og det er jo greit det, men noen ganger tenker jeg at «ok, skal vi gå gjennom denne runddansen nå igjen?».

– Mest tenker jeg at de er jo ikke SÅ interessante. Han ene skylder meg penger på Vipps, liksom.

Sjargongen mellom de tre er tydelig preget av humor, selvironi og god gammeldags erting. Bjarte sparer ikke på kruttet da han får spørsmål om brødrenes mest irriterende egenskaper.

– Jeg føler at Bård slipper lett unna med ting. Det er utrolig irriterende at han kan parkere hvor som helst uten å få en bot. Og Vegard har en tendens til å krangle på alt jeg sier. Alle påstander jeg kommer med, skal faktasjekkes.

– Men jeg stoler jo ikke på noen, så det er ikke så rart, protesterer Vegard.

Selv om lovordene tar lengre tid å hente frem, dukker de også opp med litt innsats:

– Hvis det er en ting jeg beundrer med dem, så er det kanskje arbeidskapasiteten og den viljen de har til å kverne på ting til det er ferdig. Jeg tror få personer forstår det aspektet ved det Bård og Vegard driver på med, sier Bjarte.

Han mener han har tjent godt på å være brødrene til Bård og Vegard.

– Det har gitt meg mange kule opplevelser.

Som da han kappkjørte med filmregissøren Harald Zwart nedover Sunset Boulevard – med Zwarts kone Veslemøy i passasjersetet.

– Jeg bodde i Portland, og fikk komme for å henge med Bård og Vegard i L.A. Vi bodde hos Harald, og skulle ut og spise middag sammen med dem. Da spurte han om jeg ville ta med Veslemøy og kjøre Porschen hans, forteller Bjarte.

– Så møtes vi i et lyskryss, og jeg bruser motoren min litt på kødd. Så gjør han plutselig det samme. Å dragrace mot Harald Zwart i hans egen Porsche er nok en opplevelse jeg aldri vil få igjen.

Møtte kjæresten på premierefest

Storebrødrenes invitasjon til en premierefest for «Ex On The Beach» viste seg også å være en fulltreffer. Det var nemlig her Bjarte traff YouTuberen Cornelia Thorsen.

– Det var hun som tok initiativ til å bli bedre kjent. Jeg er veldig pysete på slike ting, forteller Bjarte.

Paret har vært samboere i over tre år, og har en hund sammen. 33-åringen omtaler seg selv om veldig hjemmekjær.

– Jeg blir fort sliten av sosiale settinger, og trives godt hjemme. Der er Cornelia ganske lik meg. Det høres teit ut, men vi er glade i å dra hjem tidlig, sier han.

– Men vi er også ulike på mange områder. Hun er mye mer varm og omsorgsfull enn meg. Jeg bryr meg jo om meg og mine, men jeg er kanskje ikke så god til å vise det.

Bjarte ønsker imidlertid ikke å gå i Bård og Vegards fotspor når det gjelder å stifte familie.

– Jeg tror rett og slett at jeg er for egoistisk til å ville ha barn. Jeg ble tidlig onkel, og har alltid likt barn – men jeg har også likt å trekke meg tilbake når jeg blir lei.

Storebrødrene håper Bjarte forblir i rollen som «onkel Sigrid». De omtaler ham som en mye kulere onkel enn dem selv.

– Ingen har noen gang blitt kulere av å få barn. Og så er det ganske fett at han kan fly helikopter, da, innrømmer Vegard.

– Men etter hvert som Bjarte har fått seg fast jobb og dame, så har han jo blitt mindre fet. Jeg håper han ikke blir for streit, legger Bård til.

Selv har han vært sammen med kona Maria siden han var 15.

– Jeg har jo aldri vært singel, så om jeg kunne blitt kul, får vi aldri vite.

«Dritten i midten»

Bjarte kan beskrives som en hybrid av sine brødre. «Dritten i midten», som de kaller ham – men med et smittende vesen og godt humør.

– Jeg tror nok Bjarte ligner mer på meg i kraft av at man ikke kan ligne så mye på Vegard. Vegard er sin egen fyr, og Bjarte og jeg prøver kanskje å passe mer inn i verden, sier Bård – til latter fra de to andre.

Minstemann selv er enig i at han er en god blanding av de to.

– Bård er veldig karismatisk, vittig og «likandes». Vegard er mer musikalsk, men også analytisk og nerdete. Det er et trekk som går igjen hos oss alle tre. Vi liker å snakke om ting som ingen andre bryr seg om, forteller Bjarte.

Påstanden blir senere bevist da en forbipasserende hund gjør sitt fornødne rett ved siden av, og intervjuspørsmål må vike for en diskusjon om hunders evolusjon og overlevelsesevne.

– Nå sporet vi veldig av her. Hvordan gikk det egentlig i Sogn?

– Det ble jo noe, da. Vi tenkte at enten ble det bra, eller så ble det morsomt. Folk får jo se hvordan det går som det går, svarer Bjarte.

– Vi sov jo ikke et sekund på de ukene, men det er jo dette vi elsker å holde på med, å sitte og jazze og lage noe ut av ingenting, supplerer Bård.

– Dere har lagt åtte låter på kort tid. Ble dere fornøyde med resultatet?

– Noen av låtene fortjener i hvert fall å finnes. Om folk kjøper konseptet og synes det er hyggelig å være med til Sogn, gjenstår å se. Det er narsissistisk å tenke at folk skal sitte å være interessert i vår prosess, sier Vegard.

– Men det var ekte, da. Vi har ikke gjort oss til eller planlagt ting som vi vanligvis gjør, og det var litt gøy.

Alle tre er unisont enige i spesielt en ting: Jo mindre publikumet blir, jo verre føles det å opptre.

– I en av episodene er vi på et eldrehjem. Det eneste jeg klarer å tenke mens vi står der, og Bjarte roper ut: «Er det noen her som liker Trap/EDM?», er at dette er en stor feilbooking, utbryter Vegard.

– Men det var også veldig morsomt, da.

Ylvis har ingen planer om å trappe ned med det første.

– Vi tre er ganske like på at vi aldri kommer til å kjede oss i livet. Uansett hva vi finner på, blir det interessant, sier Vegard.

Og lillebror? Han tar ting som det kommer.

– Om jeg får flere muligheter til å være med på noe kult, er jeg jo selvsagt med, men jeg har ingenting planlagt. Jeg lar meg ikke stresse av å tenke på fremtiden.

#ylvis #firecroft upload #vegard ylvisåker #bård ylvisåker #bjarte ylvisåker #ylvis 2022 #vg article #october 2022

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fandom-imagines-stories · 2 years

Text

Saving Grace S2 E2: Nowhere to Hide

S2 E2

Fox Mulder x Reader

Words: 2496

Summary: The reader and Alex’s investigation is interrupted by a familiar face. Something about this case isn’t right and the reader and Scully both know it.

Notes: Making my timeline is a little difficult, but I believe I’m using the years from the character Wiki pages so nobody come after me for inaccuracies haha. The timeline for this series is extensive. Also, sorry this is late, I honestly forgot yesterday was Monday.

More Mulder Imagines: HERE

The map glared back at him with mocking lines and smeared red ink. Three shiny pins blinked and shined under the fluorescent light. Around him, the clutter of files and records and photos had turned his office into the den of a mad man. Well, at least more than it already was.

“Three missing scientists… one corrupt research institution…” He slammed his hand down on a blurry security photo with the subject just barely caught in the frame. “And Krycek.”

His musing turned to rambling, as they often did, and he paced around his office, trying to make it all connect. Somehow, he knew. If he followed the trail of Zimtech trying to clean up its mess, he would find you.

The door opened and his phone started to ring. Scully entered, her expression unreadable. She stared at the report in her hand with an intense perplexion. Before she could share her information, however, Mulder quickly answered his phone.

“Mulder.” His greeting held that desperate hope that only Scully recognized. As if every time he answered the phone, he expected it to be you. And, like each call in the past three months, she watched his demeanor fall. This time, however, whoever was on the other line piqued his interest. Mulder shot across his office, phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear, and jammed a new pin into the map on the wall.

“What is it?” Scully asked. He put a hand up and listened to the voice.

“And you’re sure the name is Greenwich?” He inhaled sharply. Scully just continued to watch in confusion. Mulder’s intense focus was something she’d grown used to, but this was different. He seemed almost hopeful.

He slammed the phone down on the receiver and looked at her with wide eyes. The fax machine beeped. Scully remembered the report in her hand.

“Mulder, there’s something I think you should-”

“Greenwich, Scully,” He exclaimed. “I’ve been having the Lone Gunman keep tabs on all of the missing person reports that connect back to Zimtech.” Mulder took the paper from the fax machine and pinned it next to the map. “Dr. Albert Greenwich- one of the lead scientists at Zimtech was reported missing by his wife under the alias of Marc Plum.”

He pointed at the side by side picture of Dr. Greenwich and the missing persons report for Plum. The same man- though Plum looked significantly more disheveled than the doctor in the Zimtech uniform- looked back at her. The connection to his excitement was still unclear.

“We’ve been tracking missing Zimtech employees for months,” she said, “what’s different about him?”

He started pacing again.’ “When we started investigating Zimtech, Y/N had an informant form the research department. She never told me much about him other than the name he gave her- Mr. Green.”

Scully nodded, understanding now. “And you think if you find her informant…”

“I find my wife.”

There was a long pause. Scully wanted to believe he was right, but the case in her hand kept coming back to her mind. She handed him the paper.

“Dr. Mira Lagosi was also one of the head researchers in Zimtech’s zoology department. She specialized in DNA and altering the genetic makeup of mammals.”

Mulder glanced over the paper with confusion. “What does this have to do with finding Y/N?”

Scully handed him another page. “Dr. Lagosi’s body was found in her apartment this morning. She appears to have been mauled to death. Due to the state of her body, the coroner is having difficulty with some of the details, but he put the time of death around three days ago.” She cleared her throat. “Apparently, there was a gas leak in the building so no one was there to notice the smell.”

Mulder looked over the case for a moment, but handed it back to her.

“Greenwich has been missing for only 36 hours, making him the more recent case. Y/N will be there.”

“I don’t think we can just toss this aside,” Scully said. “This is the first time we have a body to examine.”

“Which tells me that it probably wasn’t Zimtech.” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “My best bet is to keep following the trail Y/N is leaving for me.”

“How do you know Y/N is the one leaving it?” She asked. “The only person you’ve connected anything to is Krycek.”

“She’s with him,” he said. His shoulders slumped slightly. “I know it.”

Scully hated seeing him like this. Desperate. Defeated. But something in her told her this case was the one.

“We can’t ignore this case,” she sighed.

Mulder nodded. “Then I’ll go to Nevada alone.”

“Mulder-”

“I’ll look into the Greenwich case while you find out what happened to Dr. Frankenstein.” His tone was final.

Scully didn’t see any other option. She tucked the file into her bag and started towards the door.

“I’ll call you if I find anything,” she said. She turned back towards him. “Be careful, Mulder.”

He simply looked away, staring at the pins in the map.

It didn’t make any sense. You’d tracked Lagosi’s every move since she’d become Professor Maggie King at the local college. Alex and you canvassed the whole damn town, playing the happy couple on vacation, and nothing was turning up. Three days was too long to stay in one place. If you don't find her soon… well you certainly weren’t looking forward to that phone call from Zimmer.

You waited in the car, listening to some crappy talk show while Alex stood at the payphone. He never told you who his informants were, but whoever it was certainly pissed him off. You absent-mindedly observed the world around you. People out on morning jogs, older couples grabbing breakfast at a diner, a young boy tossing out newspapers.

One paper landed close enough to the car that you could see the headline. Your heart leaped into your throat and you scrambled out of the car.

“What the hell?” You muttered.

“I thought I told you to-” Alex whined, but you thrust the paper at him before he could finish.

Police Investigate Death on 42nd Street.

“At least it explains why we haven’t found her,” you said. “Looks like something got to her first.”

“That isn’t possible.” He read the article in disbelief. “We would have heard about it. Zimtech would have heard about it.”

“Unless they set us up.” You said through gritted teeth. There was no way your lack of information was an accident.

Alex threw the paper to the ground. “Well, Mrs. Carter, looks like our job just got a little more complicated.”

You sneered. “Stop calling me that.”

Blood stained altex fell into the trash. Scully turned off the light about the table and removed her goggles. The autopsy- of what was left of the body- revealed what she’d expected. Dr. Lagos was essentially ripped apart. Cause of death was blood loss, but several of her organs had also been removed. They appeared to have been clawed out of her chest cavity. By what, she had yet to determine. It almost seemed feline.

She finished gathering her things and made a mental note to call Mr. Y/L/N to check on Grace. She’d also need to call Mulder and tell him what she’d discovered so far and see if he’d found anything about Greenwich. The thought of calling Y/N entered her mind before she could stop it.

This was easier when you were here.

Dana shut the door and started down the hallway of the coroner’s office. Facts floated around in her mind, attempting to cling together to form theories. Nothing stuck. How could a predator like a cougar or lion have gotten into Lagosi’s locked apartment? Sure, the window was open, but she lived on the seventh floor. No such creature could have climbed the fire escape like that. Not unnoticed anyway. Mulder would probably suggest some kind of werewolf. She almost wished he was here to distract her with his crazy theories.

She’d need to go back to the crime scene to see if the local authorities had missed something. Plus, the drive across town would give her a little time to think. All of this meant something. It just didn’t make sense yet.

She didn’t know that someone had gotten there first.

“What the hell happened?” You grimaced at the gruesome scene before you. While the body was gone and investigators had already gone through everything, the blood stains on nearly every surface painted a clear enough picture.

Alex stepped over a shattered lamp. “That’s what we’re here to figure out. Time to break out all of that Academy training. You used to be Violent Crimes, right?” His tone made it sound more like a jab than genuine interest.

You ignored him. He seemed to think now was a good time to push you.

“Yeah…” He mused. “That’s how you met Mulder. The weirdo genius kid from BSU.”

You gritted your teeth. “How do you know that?”

He chuckled. “When are you going to get it through your head? I know everything.” He smirked at you, satisfied that he’d hit a nerve.

“Less talking. More looking.” You snapped. You had to fight to keep the memories from flooding your head. They were too painful now. But he knew that.

“I can see I’ve struck a nerve, Carter.” He still said the name with a smugness that made you want to punch him. Thankfully, he stopped there.

Christmas lights framed the doorway of the building. Scully noted the lack of police cars. Shouldn’t there be a team watching the crime scene? Her phone rang before she could finish the thought.

“Hello?”

“Scully, it’s me.” Mullder’s disappointed voice greeted. “I think you were right. There's no sign of Greenwich or what happened to him. No sign of Y/N.” She could hear him kick over something, probably a chair.

She took a deep breath. “I was about to call you. I think something seriously strange is going on here, Mulder.” She hit the elevator button, still observing the odd quietness around her.

“I’ll take the first flight to North Carolina.”

Dana sighed. Until she had any evidence that Y/N could be involved, there was no need to get his hopes up. Reaching the floor, she walked towards Dr. Lagossi’s apartment.

If Alex had still been making his snide remarks, you wouldn’t have heard the footsteps outside, accompanied by a voice that shot panic through your chest. You grabbed Alex by the lapel and shoved him into the closet. Unfortunately, the small space only fit one.

“What the hell?” He objected.

“I’ll handle this.” You slammed the door just as the front door opened.

“No. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Go home and spend it with your daughter.”

You could almost hear his voice on the other line. Scully closed the door behind her and looked up. She froze, eyes locking with yours.

“Mulder… I’ll call you back.”

1992

You sat at your desk. Mulder sat at one of the tables looking through slides. You had a mountain of memos and taxes to go through before Blevins started breathing down your neck. A knock pulled you out of your work, but Mulder didn’t lose his focus.

“Sorry, nobody down here but the FBI’s most unwanted,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Fox.”

He looked at you the same way he always did when you called him by his first name. Annoyed, but affectionate all the same.

A woman you didn’t recognize entered tentatively. She had red hair, bright eyes, and curious air about her. Your desk was closer, so she approached you first.

“You must be Agent Y/L/N,” she said. She held out her hand to you with a kind smile. “Dana Scully. I’ve been assigned to work with you and Agent Mulder.”

“Isn’t it nice to be suddenly so highly regarded?” Mulder had turned around, his usual cynicism thick in his tone.

“Ignore him.” You stood, taking a little more effort with the weight of your eight-months pregnant belly. “If it were up to him, I’d be working as soon as I could stand after labor.”

“You make me sound so insensitive,” He said in mock offense. “I’m actually very interested to see what Blevins is concocting by sending Dr. Scully to us.” He stood, crossing his arms and leaving back on the table. “So, who did you tick off to get stuck with this detail, Scully?”

“Actually I’m looking forward to working with you.” She turned back to you. “Both of you, once Agent Y/L/N gets back, of course.”

“Please,” You smiled, “call me Y/N. Unlike my partner, I’m not into the whole last name only thing.”

“Alright, Y/N.” From the look of her polite, yet intrigued smile, you could tell you were going to like her. “I’ve heard a lot about the two of you.”

“And I was under the impression you were sent to spy on us.” Fox snarked.

Mulder proceeded to be Mulder, but Scully didn’t seem deterred. Yes, you were definitely going to like her.

You just stood there, frozen by her stare. Her expression morphed from shock to disbelief to confusion and back.

“Dana-” You started. She cut you off with a hug.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” She said. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes and hugged her back. For that short, perfect moment, it felt like you had a part of your life back. But then you remembered why you were here and who was with you. You pushed away.

“Dana, you can’t be here.”

“What?” She exclaimed. “Y/N, we’ve been looking for you for months. What are you doing here? Where have you been? What’s going on?”

“You have to leave. They probably already know you’re here. When they find out you saw me-”

“What are they making you do? Are you the one that’s been killing those people?” She stepped back.

“It’s…” You took a deep breath. “Complicated.” You put your hands on her shoulders. “I need you to go home. Keep yourself safe. Keep them safe.”

She shrugged your hands off. “Do you have any idea what this has done to him? He’s driving himself insane trying to find you. He goes home to a daughter who doesn’t understand why her mother isn’t coming home and he has to try and be both parents.”

“I’m doing this to keep them safe,” you cried.

She shook her head. “It’s time for you to go home. Y/N, please. We can-”

A flash and a thud stopped her. Scully fell to the floor. You rushed to help her, pulling her into her arms. Alex stood over her, having hit her with the butt of his gun.

“What the hell?” You exclaimed. He looked at you furiously.

“Nowhere to hide now.”

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216; @yellowbubblewrap

Mulder: @posiemax; @muldersufo; @springholland

#saving grace #fox mulder x reader #x files imagines #grace mulder #dana scully #alex krycek #x files series #fox mulder #david duchovny #gillian anderson

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mumblztumblz · 11 months

Text

WELCOME TO THE COGNATE: A BTD/SLA INDUSTRIES CROSSOVER FIC

CW/TW:Implied Castration, Surgery (Without Anesthetic), Cannibalism, Molestation, Gore, Forced Nudity

Tobby/Rory belongs to @6robotmonster6 , SLA!Ren artwork by https://twitter.com/ratopomboart

He pressed nervously on the doorbell to the Cognate’s HQ, a short brand jingle playing every time.

The whom that greeted him was a masked figure, their facial covering concealing almost all of their face except for it’s left side, where from a squinting, burn-marked blue eye looked down at him. The Slash armor they wore was nigh-uniform like the rest of the Cognate’s, as part of them differentiating themselves from most other cognates both on the small screen and organizationally.

“I-I’m here to see Fox!” He said, the masked figure responding with barely stifled laughter at the bob-cutted trans-man’s loadout. Generic kitchen knife, CAF vest and a cheap Uni store DAF mask.

But rather than turning him away, they simply stood aside and subvocally radio’d to the rest of the Cognate with their headset while motioning to him with their right hand.

“Yes! Thank you!” The human cheerfully told the figure before stepping in and being greeted by a surprisingly clean and well-arranged.

“The Fox will be here for you shortly. Have a seat…” The figure stated before closing the door, locking it and returning to a guarding position.

The lounge looked more like a museum of the Fox Den Cognates accomplishment than a typical hideout, framed trophies, whether armor pieces, weapons or embalmed body parts were preserved in front and behind him in bulletproof glass, notably among them but certainly not least a severed penis that was fourteen inches flaccid, likely Shaktarian in origin if his Alien Sex Channel knowledge served him.

Pulling further on his knowledge of both circuit and cognate. It belonged to one “Terror-Tracker.”, a Shaktar Contract Killer known for solely taking on and defeating some of the most monstrous, sadistic opponents…before Fox and his crew completely emasculated him figuratively and literally in a two-hour-long torture party special that he rewatched and jilled off to so many times the vid-slug wore out and he had to find recordings from others.

To see the highlight from that show embalmed, encased and in person was nothing short of a high honor to him.

Minutes passed as he recalled every detail and recording of every one of the framed items to absolute perfection, only for time to come…

Those dramatically exaggerated Powercell servos could be heard coming from up the stairway on his left, his pulse pounding as he saw those bulky, black and orange boots descend, the iron animalistic mask and detachable ears and tail coming into view as he saw the man of his dreams, only five years older than his twenty-year-old self, being trailed from behind by an Inner Voice Drone

And he locked eyes with him…and found a surprising lack of judgement.

“So…what’s your deal?” He asked, stepping off the stairs and sitting down on the chair directly across from him.

“I uh…uhm…” He was starstruck, though Fox was used to this and let him get the parasites in his stomach out of the way before speaking up.

“I…sent you fanmail…Neko…M?”

The Little Helper-turned-Born Leader’s biogenetic orange eyes lit up and he shot out of his chair. “It’s you!?”

The guard at the door readied their, expecting another for the play room only for Fox to signal them to halt.

“Yeah…it’s me. Neko.M, but…my friends call me Rory.”

“Take off that mask…”

He obeyed without question…

“You are beautiful, telegenic even, don’t you think? He cocked his head to the drone, seemingly asking both parties.

“My IVD here seems to be in agreement. Quick, follow me…”

Before he could even respond, Rory felt a power-armored hand grab his and drag him out of his seat and up the stairs, past other rooms until they come upon one with “PLAY” written in bright green neon above it’s doorway, leading into what appeared to be a public shower converted into a torture room, with artfully dimmed lighting and each stall having the alias and favored torture tools of each member marked and neatly arranged.

“We just so happen to have a new opening…and I’m eager for you to fill it!”

They stopped at a large hole in the wall marked “FOX” with what looked like several TV’s overlooking a shrine to torment, with tools, sex toys and a personal vidcam to capture footage for his limited edition mail-order vidslug “Foxy Close-UpS” collection.

Rory was downright overwhelmed, so overwhelmed he did not even respond or resist the MAC knife cleanly slicing off his CAF vest and shackling him to a pair of ceiling suspended and suspending chains, the IV hovering over both of them at the best angle.

“Now…Neko.M…what’s your dream gimmick?” As he asked this, he sliced open the young man’s hoodie, exposing his large breasts to the camera. “Besides the obvious?”

“I…was thinking…”

“Big, scary cat I’m guessing? The mask kinda pointed at that.”

“Y-yes…a DAF…”

“Oh Karma has just the mods for you. But right now…” He paced behind him to slice off his pants and any underwear, leaving him only in a pair of combat boots. “I’d like you to do a little initiation.”

Before he could utter another answer, Fox was in front of him, pulling off his mask to reveal a youthful, demonic yet telegenic grin. He was breathing heavily and caressing the codpiece of his free hand as he took stock of his newcomer’s figure, especially the back end, setting his knife on the ground to lean in closer and grip a tight handful of bare Rory’s ass-cheeks, breathing heavily against his face and licking his neck before subduing himself and pulling away.

“Let’s get you started.”

“Wait…I’m…”

Before he could finish his response, Fox picked up the dropped MAC and rammed it into Rory’s left underboob. He let out a blood-curdling cry as the blade carved deep into his right breast, shaking his head and struggling to pull away but the suspension chains holding his nude form in place.

The fox’s knife-hand was accustomed to a resisting victim, though he couldn’t help but get some manipulation in.

“What’s the matter? Didn’t you say you were my biggest fan!?”

“Y-yeees…”

“Then be still for me…”

The man grit his teeth and sheepishly opened one of his golden-contact lense eyes as his favorite Serial Killer ever continued to perform a standing mastectomy, continuing to pant lustfully, even lick and take bites of the stripped tit-flesh as his free hand reached in and ripped out the greasy tissue.

“Look…” He told Rory, who hesistated to fully open his eyes.

“LOOK I SAID!” He told him again, this time with more force and he complied, turning his attention and opening his eyes only to see one of his two breasts being held up to his face. It made even him let out a gag.

“Is that weakness I see !?”

“N-no! I will bear anything for you!”

“Anything? He asked, taking a half bite chunk clean off the removed mammary gland via his biogenetically-enhanced teeth, salivating a bit before garbling down the other half and moving onto the next breast.

“ANYTHING!” Rory screamed for the whole hideout to hear as his second, left breast started to undergo the same removal process, Fox toying with his chest-flesh and rooting around inside it. However it was at this point that shock began to kick in and Rory began to feel his consciousness fading….

When he awoke, he found himself on the floor, still nude but with Fox presiding over him with a BOOPA CASDIS and Hypofist by his side, the slice marks stitched over but the scars kept as a creative choice.

And speaking of scars and creative choices, he felt an unusual burning sensation on his left shoulder, which seemed to have had a heart shaped scar soldered it onto while he was out.

“Ahh..you’re awake. Welcome to the Cognate, Tobby.”

“T-Tobby?”

“Your new name!” He motioned to one of the killers under him, who presented him with a set of all black Slash armor with a far more high quality, DAF-themed mask than the one he came in, “Tobby” inscribed in chalk on the left side of the breastplate and Fox Den logo on the right, while another killer was busy graffitiing a “Shower” stall just for him.

“Yes…Tobby…that’s me…” He grabbed the armor and began to don it, still in shock from his meatgrinder of a surgery, but comforted by the brighter future ahead…

#ren hana #btd ren #tobby #6robotmonster6 #sla industries #au #alternate universe #ttrpg #horror #sci fi #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #crossover #btd fanfic #btd #boyfriend to death

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