#this is also your alert to take a damn bio break

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

ough the adhd focus music shit really fuckin works once i get over the "need to start work" hurdle I just stood up not realizing 3 hours'd passed and feeling every negative effect at once

#this is also your alert to take a damn bio break #get food water use bathroom take meds stretch legs what have u #adhd

[rpd-rookie]

The One Who Runs Away, The One Who Runs Back (Leon S. Kennedy x Reader)

Author’s note: This is a sequel to “A PAST WITH HER, A FUTURE WITH YOU” and the end of my three-parts fan fiction "I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY HEART" I decided to write after so many of you asked for it. Sorry it took so long but I was navigating from one fandom to another. (BTW, if there are any Devil May Cry fans up here, you can read my DMC fan fictions here) PS: Even if I said it before, I have no hate whatsoever towards Ada or Aeon.

Tagged: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Post-Break up, Sexual Content 

Part 1 / Part 2

***

Do you remember? We started this story by quoting some sitcom character that was clueless about love. Well, here’s a suggestion. Why not ending it by quoting someone who knew a little more on such matter.

William Shakespeare - you know that English dude expert on tragic ‘drink this poison, stab yourself’ kind of love - apparently once said ‘Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck’. I say ‘apparently’ cause, even though I have a master in English lit, this quote is from the internet, and also … who knows what the guy truly said?

But it’s the quote that’s important. Not the author. The quote it’s important because it sums up perfectly how this story is gonna end. However, before starting, let me tell you this quote is going to be the only Shakespeare-worthy sentence in this final chapter. You’ve been warned.

Love runs away from those chasing her.          Well, this part was definitely written for someone like Ada Wong. Owner of countless gold medals and possibly a world record at this point, that woman is basically the Usain Bolt of the ‘Running from Leon S. Kennedy’ competition. Unchallenged winner since the creation of this sultry version of cat and mouse game, it’s better not to think about the number of times she successfully ran away from her favourite agent.  But this year, this formidable titleholder in a gorgeous red dress will have to face her Nemesis in the championship. You. Though the comparison to the hideous bio-organic killing machine might not be very complimentary to you but you get the idea.  This year you enter the Kennedy Olympics. And this year you run like Sonic the Hedgehog and you win the damn competition (screw you Usain Bold!). And you do this with your head high and without an ounce of regret. Ignore all the texts and flowers Leon might send on your track Mario Kart style. His gifts are not as slippery as banana peels and they can easily be dodged, I promise. Well, most of the time, when you’re not lying on your bed in the middle of the night crying and sobbing while reading his messages or playing his voice in your voicemail again and again until you’re nothing more but a giant mess with puffy red eyes drowning in a puddle of your own tears.        Screw those messages too! And screw his broken yet terribly sexy voice as well!

Being a man of word, Leon kept his promise. And for months you kept on running peacefully, marathoning away from this past relationship that had destroyed you like no other before while tranquilly fixing your broken heart on the way. That run was a good cardio.

But sometimes, cardio is not enough, and even just the small sight of an overpriced whisky bottle or the smell of Leon’s perfume on some guy’s clothes is enough to reopen your wounds.           And when it happens, you always do the same thing, you break the damn bottle - and run cause damn! it’s expensive! -  or you tell the guy his perfume smells like cheap cologne and that he should definitely change it, which is an improvement on your past destructive behaviour, since there was a time shortly after the break up when you would have simply dragged the guy to your place to let him fuck you senseless while imagining he was Leon. All that just for the illusion to feel him again and for the sake to kick him out the next morning, screaming like a hysterical psycho.

So imagine, for a small second, the wave of intense feelings surging out of your healing heart when, in the middle of a cafe, you hear some dude sitting behind you ordering Leon’s favourite whisky while wearing the same bloody perfume. “It’s got to be relentless persecution at that point!” You sigh, already annoyed, closing your book more violently than intended. Hope you’re ready, stranger! Because you’re not in the mood to deal with this right now.            You turn around with a fake smile that reflects perfectly your irritation, ready to give him hell, your sharpest riposte already burning your tongue. After all, he deserves it and you can’t help it.         But when you meet familiar – and freaking gorgeous - baby blue eyes you freeze and stare, suddenly confused and lost and refusing to believe that in spite of the intense running, love just jumped at your neck after all and it was sitting there, taking the shape of Leon S(tupid) Kennedy.

You should have stood up and left, run for your life, run for your heart. And yet, you didn’t.    You stayed there staring at him looking at you, allowing all your memories, the good ones and the bad ones, all your buried feelings to come back from the dead, embracing them as if you had missed them, which, let’s be honest, you probably had.            You tried to scream to yourself “Come on, Y/N! Shake a leg!” but it seemed that what you brain understood was something like “Cum on him! Open your legs!” as a couple of blurry hours later, you were on Leon’s bed, legs wide open, screaming his name and begging him not to stop his amazing thrusts.

Six months, you ran for six months … Well, looks like the run ends here and now. After a minute-long deep stare, an afternoon of amazing sex and two hours long of something blurry in between.

“I missed you.” And there you were! The moment all couples that broke up have after one of them (in this case Leon with the infamous ‘I missed you line’) starts to believe they miraculously rekindled their love. The fatal post-coital cuddling session that you don’t know how to react to, as you think of all the possibilities before you.      Possibility Number 1) You tell Leon you missed him too and cuddle, enjoying that embrace you secretly yearned for months. But that includes forgetting what he has done or pretending that nothing happened.     Possibility Number 2) You push him away, get dressed, leave again and act as if this afternoon never happened. But if Leon doesn’t remind you of it, the ache between your legs will, that’s for sure!   Possibility Number 3) You jump him again until you sore even more and hope that you’ll be able to leave afterwards.         Frankly, all possibilities suck because, in all cases, it seems like you lose. Since,       with Possibility Number 1) you lose the run forever, with Possibility Number 2) you lose him again and with Possibility Number 3) well it’s result 1 or 2 + your body aching like crazy for days. I suck at math but no need to be Einstein to know the result of this calculation looks unpleasant.    So what do you choose?

You see a triangular dice rolling in your head, showing a never-ending succession of 1, 2 and 3 that doesn’t make any sense and that confuse you even more than you already are. 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 3, 2 ! Oh for fuck’s sake!

You grimace, angry and pissed at Leon and probably even more at yourself, and finally leaves his bed and his strong warm arms, feeling the tears furiously forming in your eyes. “I can’t” You can’t look at him in the eyes. You don’t want to see his confusion, don’t want to see his pain as he witnesses all his hopes shatter to pieces.         “ What do you mean?” You can hear the sheets crease behind you, alerting you of Leon’s agitation, so you hurry and pick up all your clothes scattered in his room. You must leave, now. 2! 2 it is!  “This! All This! This afternoon never happened.” You tell him, putting on your clothes with sudden clumsy and trembling hands, not caring if your bra is correctly hooked or if you put your shirt on back to front. Your heart. You have to think of your poor heart first.          “Hey, hey, hey.” You feel Leon’s hand softly grabbing your arms and you let go of whatever you were holding right now. His voice is sweet and trying to be comforting. Don’t look at him Y/N! Don’t look at him! “Look at me.” You do. Damn it! And you see his gorgeous blue eyes staring at you, studying your flustered face and the tears slowly drowning your (colour) look. You missed those eyes. You missed them so.damn.much ! As much as you missed his hands cupping your face and his thumbs wiping up your tears. God! How many tears those thumbs have missed recently. “It’s alright.”

You want to believe him. You really do. But there is this voice screaming in your head and very clearly this time. A voice shouting, forcing you to remember that night, that awful nightmarish night, the one when you felt your heart break and your dreams turn to ashes. All that because of him and his obsession for her.

“No, it’s not alright, Leon.” You shake your head and miraculously manage to take a small step back. You never thought you could. But you had to. You can’t stay close to him. You can’t let him touch you, feel you. Not if you want to run away. And you have to run away. Like her! Like Ada. Ada! “I told you. For as long as you have feelings for Ada, I can’t … we can’t…”     “Please don’t talk about her.” He begs and rubs his hand over his face. Is he trying to chase her away from his mind? Is she still in here? Please, let her not be in here.    “But she’s the reason we’re in this situation now. She’s the reason why we’re in this mess.” You insist only for the sake to see his reaction when you mention Ada, to see if she’s still under his skin, somewhere. “Ada is not the reason. I am!” Leon corrects you, a finger directed at his heavy chest as he is putting the full blame on himself for the first time since that night. “I am the one who went after Ada when I shouldn’t have! I am the reason why we broke up! I am the reason why we are so miserable!”         “But I was fine!” You shouted back in an attempt to show him he was wrong refusing to listen to that part of you who knew he was completely right. You were miserable without him. “I was doing fine until you came back and fucked everything up! I was healing goddamnit!”             You felt new tears rolling along your red cheeks and quickly wipe them off with the back of your hand that felt so callous and rough in comparison to Leon’s gentle touch. “You can’t just jump back into my life like this and expect me to forget!”

Leon nods, agreeing with you in a certain way. But the truth is, he doesn’t want you to forget. He doesn’t expect you to erase his mistake. He just wants you to forgive him … No, he just wants you to come back to him. Period. And that’s got to be what you want to. It has to!   “So why did you have sex with me, huh?” He finally asks even though he already knows your answer. “Tell me!” You’re not the kind of person who has meaningless sex, not the kind of person who worships one’s body with divine kisses and devoted caresses if they mean nothing. “Why did you have sex with me?” And yet the answer he wishes to hear doesn’t come out. “For fuck’s sake Y/N! Answer me! Why?” He shouts making you shiver and cry even more.    “Because I LOVE YOU!” You finally scream. And it hurts. It hurts but it feels good too. Like a weight lifted off your chest. “Because I missed you too! Because those months without you have been terrible! Because I don’t know how to handle even just the thought of you or the sound of your voice in my voicemail. Because each time I see something that makes me think of you, I’m a mess and I do things that normal me would never do! You fucked me up, Leon! You fucked me up but I love you! And I hate to love you!” You grunt in pain and relief, enraged but happy that you finally let everything out. And Leon listens in silence, frozen by your powerful honest confession. But he doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know what to say. Part of him is overjoyed, ecstatic that you still love him but there is another part that just feels terrible, sorry for the pain your love for him caused you even in his absence.   “But you see—“ You continue “That’s the problem in our relationship, Leon! I love you in ways that are so intense, that go beyond sanity. And you love me by half.”    You see him crumple, his horrified face looking suddenly very pale as if he had just heard some dreadful news. Is that really how you feel? Is that how you see his love for you? Is that what he has made you believe?         “Goodbye Leon.”

With the full intention to leave Leon’s place for good and never come back, you grab you bag on your way out of the bedroom while carelessly shoving your underwear inside of it since you forgot to put them on in the midst of panic and precipitation. Get out of here, Y/N! Now! A reasonable voice encourages you. Listen to me!    But this not what Leon wants.

“I never loved you by half.” He declares and you abruptly stop, asking God if he’s some kind of sadist that loves seeing you in pain from the comfort of his divine sofa somewhere in heaven. “Never.” But it’s not God and his sadism that makes you turn around. It’s you, and your masochist love for that blue-eyed man before you.     “I don’t believe you” Your voice almost doesn’t leave your throat as you try not to sob.           “But it’s the truth.” He says with a calm soothing voice as he slowly approaches you. “I never imagined my future with Ada. I never wished to grow old with her or build a home with her.” You want to tell Leon to stop talking, to stay where he is but your body doesn’t seem to respond. And when you feel him grabbing your hands in his and the comforting warmth that goes with that simple touch, you know that leaving is now an almost impossible task. “Yes. I admit it. My feelings for her were real.” Even when his honesty hurts you, you don’t know how to leave anymore. “But they were nothing in comparison to what I feel for you.”     You try to let go, pulling your hands away from his loving grip but he holds you back. And you’re not strong enough. Or maybe, you just don’t want to be strong. Everything is so confusing. Everything is tearing you apart.     “But they’re still here, aren’t they?” You question, hoping his answer might give you a clue, might give you the strength to make the correct decision. Do you leave? Or do you stay? “And they’ll keep coming back each she goes back into your life. You can’t let go of her.”    “You’re maybe right.” His words hurt you more than you thought they would. They hurt like hell because you realise there are not the ones you wanted to hear. You wanted to hear him say that he would let go of Ada, for good, for you. You wanted to hear that because deep down … YOU WANTED TO FUCKING STAY! “But can you let go of your past?” He continues and you shake your head refusing to hear any other word coming out of Leon’s mouth.       “Don’t!” You beg, weary.           “No! Listen to me this time. Ada is my past, Y/N. She’s my past. And you … you’re my future. You’re my life, damn it!” He doesn’t cry but you don’t need his tears to sense how emotional and how honest he is. And suddenly, you just want to listen to him. “And I was a fool not to see it sooner. When you left me, I felt a void I had never felt in my entire life. I felt like a part of me was missing. And then, the bombing in Washington happened, and it was like I had nothing left. I needed you. I wanted you. You. Not Ada.”      “Leon” You whisper and he cups your face again, blue eyes staring deep into yours, allowing you to see everything in him, his strong love for you and all the weaknesses he hated to admit. “It was you in my mind. Only you. And it will always be you. Because I love you. Now. Today. And I will always love you.”

You cry even more, uncertain if those tears are tears of sorrow, tears of joy or a mix of both. God, how can your emotions be such a mess right now? How can you be wishing to shout at him with all the anger you’ve accumulated and, at the same time, willing to kiss him with all love you’ve got?

“If you got to believe something. Believe that. And if that’s not enough and you think you can be happy with someone else. Then go. I won’t hold you back.” You frown. He is fucking lying. You’re sure of it. “You can’t stop running after me and you know it.” He smiles and scoffs, sensing that hint of sudden defiance in your tone he enjoys a lot.  “True. I can’t sop running after you. But I’ll do my best not to catch you if that’s what you want. But you got to tell me. Is that what you truly want?” You don’t reply. Truth is, you’re not sure what to say not because you’re not sure that’s what you want but because you’re not sure you can trust him if you let him in again.                        “No.” You whisper. “No, that’s not what I want. I want you. All of you.” You can see Leon struggle to contain his growing joy as it starts to glimmer brighter and brighter in his irises. He doesn’t want to cry victory just yet. He is cautious and rightfully so. “But can I?”        “Want me?” He smiles. “ Have you completely?” You correct, searching for a promise in his eyes, one you hope, you wish he would not break this time.     “Trust me with your heart again and find out.”

This better not hurt this time…

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #i trusted you with my heart #resident evil fanfic #fanfic

[mileycyprus-hill]

What the Water Gave Me

Arthur Morgan x Mermaid Reader/OC

Chapter 4– Exploration 

Thought I wasn’t gonna return, huh? Fooled you—and myself. I wanna thank everyone who’s been so patient with me updating new chapters for all my series since I know it’s been weeks since I posted a new chapter. 

You can find previous chapters on my masterlist which is available in my bio. 

Also found on AO3. 

Summary: Arthur returns to the beach after a hunt and is re-introduced to our lovely mermaid. I hope y’all don’t mind, I’ve switched my reader-insert into an OC, because writing in 3rd person with (y/n) kind of threw off my flow and felt clunky. So I created a name but kept most physical attributes vague to sort of keep it a reader-insert. 

Arthur's eyes twitch beneath his closed lids, his breathing shallow and quick. He lays upon a worn cot within the ruins of the old stone fort. The tall trees above him provide relieving shade over the small camp. The events of the past couple weeks seamlessly transition in his memory: Hosea's splattered blood upon the cobblestone street, Lenny's lifeless body on the rooftop, the rolling storm clouds beyond the sea's horizon. Arthur remembers the orange glow of the flames on the ship. The intense heat, followed by the chilling dark waters below. His heart beats hard and fast, thumping loudly in his ears like heavy drums of a battalion. Suddenly, his anxiety ceases and his breathing slows at the sight of a rising sun. Its yellow light shines with warmth as it breaks above a grassy hillside. The green prairie grass grows high as a tall animal crosses the dense field. It gently pushes through the grass, bowing its head to graze on the lush greens. Arthur begins to recognize the animal: a stag. Its rounded rack of antlers sit high upon its head, like a jagged crown of ivory. With a twitch of its ears the stag raises his head and turns to him, acknowledging his presence. But it doesn't startle. The stag gazes with its glassy eyes. They hold a beautiful amber glow that matches the sunlight. Arthur had never seen such beauty in the eyes of a beast, for he had only seen the pupils of their eyes stretch to black after their life had been taken. The sun flashes brightly and Arthur wakes with a deep, ragged breath through his nose. For a moment, he forgets his surroundings until his vision clears. He remembers the gun fight, the man named Hercule, Javier falling on the beach, and the strange woman. Arthur's worry returns at the thought of Javier and the woman surrounded by the soldiers in blue while he and the gang escape into the dense jungle. He hopes Dutch will come up with a plan to get Javier back.

He hopes to see the woman again, alive.

Arthur stands with stiff joints, the skin of his cheeks and forehead feel uncomfortably tight from the sunburn. He recognizes a dark figure crouched over the small fire in front of him. The flames and smoke are kept low to avoid alerting the local patrols.

“Mornin’ Hercule,” Arthur greets with a gravelly voice, “Or should I say, ‘afternoon’?”

He looks up towards the sky to gauge the location of the sun, bringing his hand to his brow to shield his eyes. The dense jungle trees make it difficult to determine the time, and the humidity this far inland makes it feel awfully hot. It feels much like Lemoyne, where the temperature doesn’t break until long after the sun drops and stays humid well through the early morning.

Hercule chuckles lightly and responds, “I’d say it’s nearly twelve o’clock.” He too, looks to the sky with squinted eyes.

His thick accent surprisingly gives Arthur some comfort. The man speaks confidently and coolly, as if he can foretell what’s to happen. He doesn’t waste words either—unlike Dutch who can cause the most eloquent man’s head to spin with such an exuberant vocabulary and lengthy sentences that seem to reach no point.

The man could be a politician if he chose such a life.

”You’re all low on food, my friend.” Hercule says, standing up and sheathing the machete he was wiping. “Might I suggest we go hunt?”

“Now?” Arthur asks, hinting at more important tasks at hand.

Hercule shrugs to him, “Unless you’d rather starve, then yes. I doubt you had eaten anything since you arrived.”

As if on command, Arthur’s stomach growls so loudly that he smacks a hand to his gut in an attempt to stifle its grumbles. He recalls his last meal was the bits of charred rat he shared with the men at the beach.

“Alright but...shouldn’t we focus on gettin’ out of here? Gettin’ our friend back?” Arthur asks hurriedly, attempting to mask his concern. He desperately wants to get off this island and back home—back to his homeland that he knows and understands. He feels helpless being here, like a lost child in an unfamiliar place. It’s an anxious feeling he hasn’t felt in years.

“Your friend Dutch is working on that at the moment with my comrades,” Hercule responds neutrally. “Come, there is plenty of boar on this island, and it’ll be much better with two.”

Hercule picks up the bolt action rifle next to Arthur’s cot and hands it to him after checking the bullets within the barrel chamber.

“You can keep watch for anything suspicious while I hunt,” Hercule says, grabbing a handmade bow and a leather quiver of arrows.

Arthur quirks an eyebrow at the simple bow.

“Think that’d be enough?“ he asks.

“Better to hunt quietly, unless you want that bastard Fussar to find us.” Hercule replies.

Arthur hums, “Good point.”

....

If it weren’t for the fact they’re wanted men on this island, Arthur could find this place rather peaceful. He can hear the shores in the distance as he and Hercule walk closer to the coast, tracking the boar. Arthur scans the area while Hercule walks in front, following the tracks in the sand and dirt. The vibrant colors of the tropical birds catch Arthur’s eyes and he watches them fly up into the trees. Their feathers stand out against the foliage: the bright blues and yellows and striking reds. They’re as large as eagles and far more beautiful than any bird he’s seen back home. Arthur hopes his journal is still safe at home. He wishes he could sketch them right now, while he can still see them. They reach the top of a small hill when Hercule raises his hand.

“There!” Hercule exclaims softly. He notches his arrow and draws the bowstring, aiming at the massive boar below the hill, straight ahead of them.

He looses his arrow and watches it strike the side of the animal with a swift thud. The carved stone arrowhead narrowly misses its heart. It squeals in painful terror and runs in the opposite direction, towards the coast.

“Damn,” Hercule curses under his breath. Arthur shakes his head behind him, watching the broad palm leaves rustle and shake as the boar runs off.

The two of them continue tracking the animal, following the crimson drops of blood on the ivory sand. The air starts to feel cool from the ocean breeze as they walk closer to the edge of the island. The jungle brush grows thinner and the tracks turn from subtle drops to a bloody trail and become easier to follow.

Hercule speaks, “Finally. There it is.” He points to the animal lying dead on the beach. Its dark hide stands out against the white sand.

They approach the dead pig and start to field dress it: removing its hide and cutting the meat into various cuts and wrapping them in cloth. Hercule grabs his large bag and divides the cuts of meat, one half for him, the other for Arthur and the men. The process takes them close to an hour, it’s such a large beast for two men.

“These are for you,” he says, handing Arthur his half of the boar meat. It’s enough to feed the men for several days, and Arthur manages to stuff them into his temporary satchel. Arthur’s makeshift bag is stretched to its limits, holding the large cuts of meat inside its leather boundaries held together with crude stitches.

“The rest I will give to my people and sell to the villagers,” Hercule continues. “Many people are without food on this island.”

“Thank you, Hercule,” Arthur says, following him to the shore.

They walk to the water and wash the blood off their hands. It’s clotted thick on their skin like paint, but easily dissolves away once it touches the salt water. The crimson color fades away with the gentle tide and is erased from their skin.

“You are welcome, Mister Morgan. Soon we will find your friend and get you off this island.” Hercule responds, shaking his hands dry. He starts to head back towards the jungle before he stops.

“I’ll head into the village to sell this and see if I can find a captain who will take you home. I suggest you head back to your camp.” Hercule says. “Do you know your way back?” He asks Arthur, stopping to turn back to him.

Arthur looks to him and nods, “Sure. I remember the way.”

“Always be on alert, Mister Morgan. You can find me at the old fort, Cinco Torres. Not far from here.” Hercule waves a quick goodbye to which Arthur returns as Hercule quickly steps into the jungle.

Arthur now stands alone on the beach, rubbing his fingers along his cotton suspenders and feeling the loose waistband of his pants. He breathes a rough sigh before a harsh cough rumbles from his chest and scratches his throat. He struggles to catch his breath and bends over to rest a hand on his knee. It feels as if he’s still got sea water in his lungs until he finally hacks his throat clear. A thick, wet lump of mucus is coughed up into his mouth. In disgust, he spits out the bloody wad onto the white sand and wipes a trail of blood from his lips. Straightening himself up, he finds that he isn’t alone.

He sees her, peering from behind a rock in the water just several yards away. Arthur freezes in place, watching the strange woman and trying not to spook her. Like predators crossing paths in the wild, they remain motionless and wary, waiting for the slightest twitch that could send either one fleeing or pursuing. The woman remains at her spot, watching and waiting for Arthur’s next move. Her eyes are wide and glassy. Thin white membranes blink slowly over her eyes like cloudy veils and disappear behind her eyelids. Arthur tries to see the rest of her body that’s submerged in the water, but he cannot see from where he stands. He suddenly notices she’s still nude from the waist up, with her long hair covering her chest. The long, wet strands of hair lay plastered on her chest, conforming to her shapely breasts and structured shoulders. They both stay frozen in place, unsure of what to do next.

Her feminine voice softly croaks from behind the rock, sending a chill to Arthur’s flushed skin. “Your friend. The one called Javier?” She says, her voice calm. Her voice has a slight melody to it but, with a wet gargle. Arthur can only describe it as like the trill of a tree frog combined with the eerie, nocturnal warble of an owl.

”Yes?” Arthur responds hesitantly.

“He’s alive.” The woman tells him.

A quiet sigh of relief escapes Arthur’s lips and his eyes light up in a slight rejoice. The tension in his shoulders release only minutely. The woman in the water notices this and allows herself to relax slightly. The pair of them listen to the gentle waves splash on the shore during this quiet exchange of words.

Arthur asks her, “Where, uh, where is he?”

The woman’s wide eyes look down, away from Arthur as if in remorse.

“Held prisoner,” she answers solemnly. “On the plantation.”

Arthur breathes a disturbed sigh at her notification, rubbing his scraggly beard with a rough palm. Feeling brave, he decides to take a step forward in the wet sand.

The woman notices and tenses behind the small rock. Her webbed hands grip the rock tightly, ready to propel herself away. Halting himself, Arthur raises his hands up in surrender.

“Iss-alright. It’s alright,” he drawls in his accent, “I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

Watching his every move, she waits behind the rock while he slowly removes his shoes and rolls his pants up to his knees. Like approaching the wild horses of the plains, Arthur steps forward into the foaming water with his hands raised just above his hips in assurance. The dazzling blue water gently splashes against his pale legs.

“What’s yer name?” He asks, stepping further in the water until it nearly reaches the fabric of his pants that reach just below his knees.

“(Y/N),” she answers, still guarded.

“That’s a nice name…(Y/N).”

“It was given to me by my tutor.”

“Your…your tutor?” Arthur queries with a pleasant smile, barely showing his teeth behind his lips. He feels a sudden inquisitive need: a curious desire for knowledge that needs to be satisfied.

“Yes. He gave me it. My real name is…Isopora.” She answers. Rarely has she given her true name to strangers, especially humans. But his presence feels non-threatening and oddly comforting. Though, she doesn’t know why.

“Isopora.” Arthur enunciated slowly.

They both smile at his utterance of her name. It rolls off his tongue and falls from his lips like the soft babbling of a stream. Its crisp, clear waters trickle gently over the rocks as it flows from its diverted source of the deep, dark river.

“My name’s Arthur…Arthur Morgan.” He states. His voice is warm and inviting with a rich, complex timbre that mirrors the guttural vocals of the seals from Isopora’s homeland. And that accent! Isopora can’t recognize it. It sounds funny, with his slight garbles and relaxed slurring of consonants.

Arthur reaches out, extending his sunburned hand to her in good faith. Isopora stares at his thick hand and calloused fingers, confused and unsure. Removing her webbed hand from the rock, she mimics Arthur’s pose to place her hand within his. She’s reluctant at first, twitching her hand away at the slightest touch, like a shy wild thing getting used to human contact. Arthur remains still, his arm still extended, until she finally rests her hand in the welcoming handshake. He wraps his fingers around hers in a gentle grip—firm, yet soft.

She expects him to clench his hand around her wrist in a trick and attempt to pull her ashore, but he simply shakes her hand. Her hand grips Arthur’s tightly in a small show of strength, and he notices. Isopora’s grip is firm and Arthur catches the muscles of her forearm contracting as she squeezes. He follows her toned muscles all the way up her biceps to her brawny shoulders.

She’s a work of art, Arthur thinks to himself, eyeing her well-knit body. Her sculpted arms, rounded shoulders, jutted collarbone, and sturdy midsection glisten in the sunlight. Her skin looks wonderfully smooth and her muscles stand out despite hiding beneath a generous layer of warm, protective fat. His gaze moves further down her curves as he steals a glance at her lengthy tail. It’s nearly camouflaged in the tropical blue water, but Arthur watches a bundle of silvery scales glimmer as they catch the rays of sun. Her feathery tail fin swishes against the waves to keep herself steady.

“So uh,” Arthur clears his throat awkwardly, still shaking her hand, “yer really a mermaid?”

An unexpected laugh erupts from Isopora and she bares her teeth in an amused grin. Her sudden joyful bark of laughter infects Arthur and he chuckles alongside her.

Minutes later, after a continued exchange of greetings, Arthur wades back to shore. Isopora follows close behind, but not too close. With a tired grunt, Arthur sets himself down onto the sand, allowing the tide to barely lap at his bare toes. Isopora remains partly submerged in front of him, resting on her stomach and elbows and softly swishing her flukes in the shallow water. A moment of silence passes for God knows how long. Arthur remains transfixed by her colorful form. His eyes examine the seam of her scales that perfectly mold into her skin just below her navel. Arthur expected all of her scales to be smooth and flat like a trout, but the further his eyes travel down her length, he notices the scales grow thicker and larger. Much like the textured scales of a snake, they cover her lower body in a protective armor. The glistening wet scales catch the rays of the bright afternoon sun and shimmer like tiny mirrors, flashing bright colors off her body like rainbows.

"Do you remember anything from the shipwreck?" Isopora asks him in a soft trill.

Arthur’s eyes snap from her tail up to her dark eyes. He furrows his brows in thought as he replays the memories in his mind.

"Sort of," he shrugs, "I remember Dutch waking me up, and there was a fire. And then..."

While Arthur takes his time remembering the incident, Isopora takes the opportunity to look over his features. She admires his tall frame, his broad shoulders, and barreled chest. He looks to be a man of great strength, conditioned by heavy lifting. Though his waist looks narrowed from starvation.

No doubt he's the workhorse of the family, she wonders, recalling the other men she had seen him chained to. She looks at Arthur's hands while he twitches his fingers and raises his arms to animate his story of jumping off the boat.

"...then there was this real high squealing, like a...hum or somethin’," Arthur continues, trying to articulate his thoughts, "And then nothin'."

Isopora hums in agreement, “I forget when I speak underwater, humans can’t quite understand it.”

Arthur narrows his eyes at her in a mix of shock and confusion, “Wait, that...that was you?” He points to her.

She smiles in embarrassment, cinching her eyes closed as she admits, “Yes. That was me.”

“So, you...you saved me?” Arthur points to her. The gears in his head continue to turn as he recollects his memories.

“That’s why you washed up there with me.” He finishes.

Isopora looks behind her towards the water and turns back to Arthur with a playful look. “Would you like to hear?” She offers.

“Shoar,” Arthur drawls. Like a curious child, Arthur scoots a bit further up on the sand, his arms wrapped around his knees.

Isopora’s smile grows wider and she begins to drag herself further into the water. “Okay,” she says, “Stay right there.”

Arthur watches her enter the water. Her blue-green scales disappear under the ocean as the gentle waves splash upon her. With a soft kick of her fin, she swims backwards until the water rises up to her chest. Her eyes stay fixed upon Arthur, who waits curiously on the sand. Arthur watches her smirk and dip silently below the water’s surface. He watches her disappear into the water and slows his breathing so he could listen for her sounds. For a moment, there’s nothing but silence. Until, an eerie howl echoes from the water. The hairs on his arm stand on edge, but he doesn’t feel afraid. Her high-pitched moans and howls continue and Arthur listens attentively. It almost sounds like singing, he thinks to himself. It’s both haunting and ethereal, like the echoing wail of a loon. Her various pitches become littered with clicks and pops that are so sharp, Arthur could feel the sounds vibrate in his ears. Arthur breathes a small chuckle of amazement at her beautiful song. It lasts for only a minute and finally ends as he watches her break the water’s surface.

She returns to him on the shore, her thick hair wet against her silky skin and the cloudy membranes on her eyes retreat back under her lids. Her naked breasts remained covered by her long hair. Isopora smiles humbly at Arthur while he softly gives a clap of his hands.

“Beautiful,” he says, “What were you singing—er, saying?”

She answers, “The same thing I was trying to tell you that night.”

Arthur looks at her in confusion.

Biting her lip, she explains, “You were struggling and I swam up to help, but when I went to pull you up for air, you started thrashing.” She hesitates for a moment but continues, “I tried telling you ‘it’ll be alright’, but you were so scared.”

Arthur finishes for her, “And that’s when everything went dark,” he says.

“Yeah,” Isopora cringes, “I’m sorry about that...I had to, uh, ‘knock your lights out’. So to speak.”

“What?” Arthur asks in surprise.

”You were thrashing so badly when I grabbed you!” She defends, “I wasn’t trying to keep you under like you thought I was. I was trying to help. But I should know by now that when trying to save a person from drowning, expect to be dragged down with them,” She chuckles.

“Well, that explains why.” Arthur laughs, “No hard feelings, I guess. Ain’t the first time someone did that.”

The smile wanes from Isopora’s face and she looks at him with a cocked eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” She asks, her tone serious.

Arthur shrugs in response, picking the sand beneath his fingernails.

“Well,” he sighs, avoiding her gaze and looking past her shoulder to the sea behind her. It extends far beyond the horizon like a blue void. The ripples of the surface waves look like textured glass with bright yellow colors of the sun merging with the ocean blues.

“I tend to find trouble or trouble finds me. I ain’t a good man…I do bad things and bad things are done to me in return.”

“Like what?” Isopora asks, suddenly fearful for her own safety.

“I’ve robbed…killed people. Run with a gang of people like me,” Arthur answers, unsure as to why he’s suddenly opening himself up to a stranger. A creature that should only belong in fairy tales, no doubt. Why is he so talkative all of a sudden, he wonders?

He continues regardless, “Used to be that we’d only steal from the rich and give what’s left to the poor but…seems so long ago now. Now we’re shootin’ up towns in the name of survival. Tryin’ to find a place in the world.”

He speaks with such uncertainty and dread for the future, that whatever choices he makes are fruitless and inconsequential. All forked roads lead to the same inevitable end. Perhaps this is his time for confession. An opportunity to repent one’s sins, with no risk of judgement. There truly was no one else he could speak to about these things—no human being that is. Why not unveil them to this woman? This creature that, realistically speaking, could just be a figment of Arthur’s imagination?

“What made you change?” Isopora asks.

Arthur looks to her eyes with a cold stare, “Weren’t us who changed,” he states defensively, “The world’s changed. Civilization’s movin’ in. And there ain’t room for people like us no more.”

Isopora hums, as if in agreement. “Those men you were chained with,” Isopora recalls from memory, “they’re your people? Your gang?”

Arthur nods.

“That boat,” Isopora continues to pry, “Where were you going?”

“We were headed to Tahiti, initially.” Arthur answers.

Isopora gives him a confused look.

Tahiti? That’s on the other side of the world.

As if hearing her thoughts, Arthur explains.

“Our boat was supposed to go to Cuba. We were runnin’. Hopped on the boat from America and…ended up here, I guess.”

An American? How exciting, Isopora thinks to herself. She’s met different characters throughout her life, but never an American. She’s only heard about these wild, free-spirited, gun-toting creatures with a thirst for adventure.

Isopora laughs dryly, “You’re a long way from Tahiti, my friend. That’s all the way in the South Pacific…We’re essentially in the Caribbean.”

Arthur looks to her inquisitively. He never gave it much thought as to where Tahiti actually is. At this point, he thought it was a fantasy island made up by Dutch to keep spirits up. Isopora guesses that Arthur isn’t quite familiar with world geography, outside his own familiar territory. After all, she doesn’t even know that he’s only ever stayed on land. Never travelled across the sea.

“Well,” Arthur states. “Accordin’ to Dutch, it’s supposed to be an untouched paradise.”

“Kinda small,” Isopora replies.

Arthur gives her another confused look. “You been there?” He asks, almost excitedly.

She shrugs, “Oui. Une fois, il y a longtemps.”

Another blank and confused stare is painted on Arthur’s face in response to her foreign reply.

Isopora smiles, “It’s a French colony. It’s been…decades since I’ve traveled there, and it was only once. But…how do you know there’d be room for you there?

Arthur bites his inner cheek in thought as he huffs, “Hmm…you got a point there.”

“To be honest, it’s better you’re shipwrecked on the way to Cuba than Tahiti. There’s a lot more open ocean to be stranded in the Pacific.”

“You’re a hell of a world traveler, ain’t’cha?” Arthur smirks.

“One could call me that, yes.” Isopora answers with a similar smile.

“Well, I ain’t much of one so, I’ll take yer word for it.”

Isopora opens her mouth to respond until she catches movement from the corner of her sharp eyes. Narrowing her gaze, she sees two men on patrol, heading their way.

Fussar’s soldiers.

Arthur notices her chest falling and rising rapidly.

Following her line of sight, Arthur asks, “What is it?”

Without hesitation, Isopora grabs his hand and tugs him towards the water.

“We must hide!” She hisses in fear, pulling him in with immense strength. She drags him with her as she swims behind a large bundle of rocks. Three large stones stand tall above the water, with a small gap in the center— enough to hide one of them out of sight. The middle stone stands tallest, with the other two standing parallel to each other.

The gap is tight and the water is high. Arthur holds onto Isopora tightly by her waist as he feels his toes float freely in the water, unable to touch the bottom. He struggles to hold himself against the slick rock with his wet hands slipping at each attempt. Isopora’s naked breasts press against his chest as she helps him stay above the water against the waves. He tries his best to avert his eyes, turning his head awkwardly to peek at the oncoming patrol.

Idle fingers start to involuntarily caress Isopora’s smooth scales. A palm lies pressed against her hips, keeping Arthur safely close to her while the other hand tries to brace himself against the rock. His fingers cannot help but examine on their own. The sensation transitions from slightly coarse to velvety soft with each subtle rub on her scales and up to her skin. A pair of voices grow louder as they near the spot Arthur and Isopora once rested. Their words are unfamiliar to Arthur, but he can detect the casual tone of their chatting.

Until he hears a surprised exclaim from the beach and Arthur suddenly remembers.

He left his shoes behind.

His eyes grow wide and he looks up to Isopora. She mirrors his look of terror and listens to the patrolmen talk excitedly.

She understands their language clearly, hearing them talk of where this mystery person could be.

“They must be in the water,” one says.

“Let’s look,” the other replies.

With their chests pressed together, their hearts drum rapidly in sync. Despite the adrenaline surging through his veins, Arthur keeps his breathing slow. He clenches his eyes shut as he silently scolds himself for being so foolish. When his eyelids open, he nearly jerks away in alarm. Isopora remains close to him, but her entire body has now changed color. An arm is slightly outstretched above Arthur’s head with Isopora’s hand pressed against the rock behind him. Peppered with splotches of gray, black and white, her skin has turned into the same pale shade as the stones surrounding them. Her once smooth arms are now textured with raised bumps and edges that mimic the stone. She covers Arthur’s body with her camouflaged form and remains still like a statue. Her eyes turn black and the cloudy membranes of her lids cover her obsidian orbs.

Time passes slowly while they remain as still as can be. The rifle on Arthur’s back painfully presses into him, but he doesn’t dare to adjust himself. He feels Isopora’s hand gripping his side tightly, her arm wrapped around his lower back. The tips of her fingers squeeze his flesh and her body presses against him completely, covering him in a protective cocoon. Arthur’s chapped lips nearly brush her shoulder as she towers over him closely, keeping his face hidden in the crook of her neck.

Isopora’s eyes dart to her left. A man in blue stands at the edge of the tide, less than a hundred feet away.

Rifle in hand, he leans forward to peer towards their hiding spot. It’s as if he’s staring right at them, unaware.

Arthur’s eyes remain on Isopora, fearful of making the slightest movement that could give them away.

Isopora stares at the blue soldier with unwavering eyes. She watches him examine the rough pillars of stone with his own dark eyes. She can feel him follow the curves of her body that’s almost merged with the rock. Arthur stays hidden within the small gap. He squeezes his arm around Isopora’s waist for dear life.

The unseen second patrolman calls for his companion, and the man turns away to look. Isopora’s eyes follow him as he walks out of sight. She hears the men speak as they hopefully assume whoever left those boots is now drowned far away from shore. Isopora listens closely as the men leave and resume walking along the beach. Their voices grow faint until she can hear them no longer. Gradually, the splotchy pale camouflage disintegrates and Isopora’s natural tone reappears in a smooth cascade. Like the blush in Arthur’s cheeks, her beautiful color flushes to her skin. The two remain in a quiet stillness, barely feeling the other’s heartbeat under the gentle waves that splash over them. The waves push and pull in a gentle rhythm. Isopora’s body softly pushes against Arthur’s before pulling away. His own body follows towards her as the wave pulls them back, moving their hips in an almost aquatic dance.

“Come,” Isopora finally breaks the silence, drifting away and extending a hand for Arthur to follow. He lightly grasps her hand and swims alongside her back to shore.

“You think it’s safe for you to head back?” Isopora asks, looking to him with her unveiled eyes.

His clothes drenched and heavy, Arthur stands and walks up on the sand.

“I dunno,” he says, staring blankly in thought, “This island seems t’be crawlin’ with ‘em. I don’t know if it’s safe anywhere.”

An idea breaks in Isopora’s head while Arthur slips on his boots.

“There’s a cave,” she tells him, “Not too far from here, behind the waterfall. Meet me there when you can.”

Arthur’s jaw goes slack and he raises an eyebrow in question, “How do you—”

“There’s a channel that leads to it,” she explains, “I can easily go through it and it leads to a small pool on the other side.”

Arthur nods before looking up towards the sun. It’s still early in the afternoon yet; plenty of sunlight to find his way back.

“Okay. How do I find it?” He asks.

“Just follow the river upstream. You’ll see it. Climb behind the waterfall and follow the cave straight ahead. Follow the gaps in the ceiling. The light will show you the way. You’ll reach the end of the cave that opens to a clearing.” She answers.

Another nod and Arthur turns to face the jungle. He feels exposed on this empty beach with no canopy of cover to hide in, but to enter the hanging vines and broad ferns of the dense forest fills him with dread. What lurks in the dark corners of this humid labyrinth? A single step in the wrong direction could lead to doom.

“Arthur?”

He looks back over his shoulder to Isopora with his bright, blue-green eyes.

“Be safe.” She tells him.

“You too.” Arthur replies in a near whisper.

He steps forward into the trees, shoulders tense and eyes scanning his surroundings. Isopora watches him from the shore until he disappears into the thick and shady foliage.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #mermaid #guarma #fan fiction #i’m back baby #what the water gave me #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan x reader #romance #slow burn

[nvcturnes]

rafa... it’s okay king ... go into the light

good evening to bilingual short kings, soccer haters, aerosmith cover bands, owners of orange 1972 competition fender mustangs, Gays™, bicons, ghosts that are in a band, band members that are not ghosts, radio assistant hopefuls, sad boys, rock fans, mechanics who will change your oil for a bag of doritos, supportive parents ( deceased ), and supportive parents ( alive ).

i’m emily & in addition to spending my days as a bio research tech, i will be ur host for the evening. i’m 22 for for 13 more days, i use she / her pronouns, i’m from the est timezone, & i am deeply sorry in advance.

u can find rafa’s full app here & his pinterest here if ur so inclined ! trigger warning for death bc he is, as we know, dead.

THE BASICS !

skeleton. nocturne.

full name. rafael medina.

age. twenty-four.

gender / pronouns. cis man, he / him.

faceclaim. taylor zakhar perez.

THE BACKGROUND ! 

now it’s time for what you missed on glee <3

baby rafa was born to a single mom named beatriz in london & she was a dancer for the royal ballet ! p much as soon as she was cleared to dance after giving birth, she dragged him along, so he grew up watching ballet 

he was always a lil bit of a scamp but he knew to be polite around the dancers and musicians, Especially during rehearsals

one day he wandered into the pit while they were playing and was in Awe of the first chair violinist

his name is alexei and we love him <3

five yr old rafa asked a million questions abt his violin & basically said okay magic man ur coming to my house for dinner to show me more of your crazy techniques... but lemme ask my mom first

beatriz debby ryan hair tucks and says yes 😌

spoiler alert they get married 🥺 a happy family 🥺

rafa grows up... gets better at the violin... makes first chair in high school... has a gay awakening when he sees abs in the locker room for two (2) seconds

strike one: the teen magazine that rafa stole off some girls told him his crush is “hot like burning” and he got so stressed he threw it away. strike two: his crush kissed him in the MIDDLE OF GYM CLASS. nasty. strike three: when rafa tried to talk to him in the hallway he said ‘do i know you’. ouch

so anyway ladies theydies and gaydies never trust a man

i’m so sorry to do this to y’all but just when rafa is about to play with the royal ballet orchestra for the first time as part of an internship... his parents die before ever making it to the performance :/

rafa... does not take it well and i do not blame him

he moves to the US to get away from all the memories & buries himself in as much work as possible to distract himself from his grief

some of the only things he brought with him were alexei’s violin & beatriz’s pointe shoes but he can barely look at them 😔

fun fact he gets fired from his job at the times square olive garden ( also known as the ninth circle of hell ) for telling a customer to go fuck himself after ordering his 15th round of unlimited breadsticks. king shit

anyway he eventually moves from nyc to la to get even Farther away and after making some friends, he eventually stumbles upon photography !

he’s surprisingly good at it, and he especially loves combining it w his love of music when he starts photographing shows and music festivals

eventually he meets this big indie artist named phoenix, whose music style is, as i recently described to admin a, “absolute hipster asshole fedora bastard” bc this was 2013 after all

*tolerate it by taylor swift plays*

spoiler alert: we still don’t trust a man :/

rafa gets caught up in all the allure of fame and thinking he’s in love, even though phoenix is the Worst kind of self-absorbed asshole who won’t even call him his bf

eventually he’s like hey ! this is bullshit ! and decides to break up w phoenix after a show that he’s shooting that night 

except he uhhhh gets robbed at knifepoint but refuses to give up his camera and d words

but it gets WORSE bc phoenix writes a whole ALBUM about it and goes on TOUR for that album while rafa’s ashes sit in a cheap urn in a closet in his house in la

this dude is shitty i’m telling u

final edition of Rafa Gets Bamboozled: he gets SCAMMED out of his soul bc this kind-looking dude that reminds him of alexei promises to help him figure out his unfinished business but just straight up steals his soul instead

so sorry to that man... i know i did this to him but at least i’m sorry abt it

THE PERSONALITY !

GAY. big gay. yes this is a personality trait

usually Gruff and Not Fun but like... can u blame him damn

he does have a heart underneath it all but every time he’s attempted to have a connection with someone it’s ended in disaster so he’s not really trying to do that anymore :/

absolutely not a fan of opening up to anyone for any reason ever. if he had ever gone to college i think he would’ve physically fought his orientation leader for like... asking where he’s from SDGDSLKJG

sarcasm and dry wit r the name of the game babey. if u catch him making a pun the rafa u know is dead and gone ( for real this time )

in conclusion he needs to be loved

congrats u made it through the chaos ! now it’s time to plot xoxo

#if u want a serious explanation of who rafa is ... i linked the app SKLDJGSD #intro? exclusively for the funnies #✶ — 𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆 › intro. #phqs.intro

[huilian]

Hello people! Since my grades for this semester have been released, I’m here to give some tips (and to remind myself what works) on studying! Since I’m a glutton for punishment, I took bio and chem classes that life sci kids take, and also math and physics classes and physics kids take. (Why? Ask me again in three years, please.) Also, I took an elective in Women Studies, which was the absolute highlight of my week (I want to minor in it, but I don’t have enough credits for that… more’s the pity). 

So! This year I got A+ in every sciency class, and an A in the women studies one, and I want to make this post to share some tips! 

Make your own notes

This is the absolute holy grail of studying tips, for me. I’ve been making summaries of things for years and it works extremely well for me. This is a way of interacting with the material, while also organizing all the bits and bobs of information that you have. I combined my class notes, powerpoints, and readings (when I have them) into a single word doc or handwritten note. It really helps to make connections between lectures, and it helps in understanding the material, since you’re actually writing it down. This also helps in determining which materials are important, and which ones are just not worth your time. Put diagrams and pictures in this document too, because you are going to need those when you study. 

If you do this, voila! You just have a study guide to study from when midterms/finals come. You don’t have to go searching for things when you’re studying, just focus on memorizing/understanding/connecting those things together. 

The only downside is this take TONS of time. For chem and physics I did them by hand, and it took me hours to do that, but since handwriting things help with memorizing, you will spend less time when you’re reviewing! For bio i basically just gave up in handwriting things (too many shits to write down) and type them, but compiling things from all my notes and readings do still take a lot of time. It works like a charm though, so as much time as it takes, I’ve been doing this religiously for years and I kept my A+ (or its equivalent). 

Cheat your brain

Find a place (or several) to study! You’ll then associate that place with studying and consequently feel weird when you’re there but not studying. When I don’t have the motivation to study I normally just force myself to be there, faf around for several minutes, and then suddenly the motivation to study comes. (Might not work for everyone though)

My mom drilled into my head that I SHALL NEVER SIT/LAY DOWN ON BEDS WHEN I HAVE OUTSIDE CLOTHES ON, so when I want to force myself up, I change to my outside clothes. Then I can’t laze around on my bed anymore (or fear the wrath of my mother. I’m literally halfway across the world, but she will know. SHE WILL KNOW.) and so I have to get up and do some work.

Use your damn resources!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OFFICE HOURS ARE MY SAVIOUR. Very few people actually go to office hours, and yeah, it sucks to be inside your classroom building for more than you actually have to, but this time is your one-to-one time with your prof, people. A lot of my friends are afraid to go to office hours because they think you have to have like, high-end questions to ask them. Spoiler alert, you don’t. I like to just go there and do my homework/assignment on office hours, in front of them, so when I have trouble doing it I literally just raise my head and call them over. It’s heaven. Really. Did I say that very few people actually go to office hours? Your prof will be bored there, and you coming would be the highlight of their day. Bonus points are that they will know you and then you can ask dumb questions to them and they will answer (I have asked so many dumb questions to my profs. Like, really really dumb. They still answered them.) 

Ps. they will also want to give you letters of recommendation. I scored a lab volunteer (that is currently on hold because of covid) as a first-year because of those letters of recommendation.

Pps. If you’re still scared of your prof’s office hours, go to your TA’s! Sometimes they have them, and those are also my saviour. Please please just go to office hours. 

If you have writing centers or writing advisors, schedule an appointment with them a few days before your essay is due. You will then have a deadline that’s a few days before the actual deadline, saving you from the panic of not having anything written the day before the deadline, and you will get so much help. They will tear your writing apart and piece them together to be something better than you could ever imagine. Please just go to them. 

For you math kids (or those who need a math class), desmos, wolfram aplha, symbolab, and all those websites/apps are amazing. But, don’t fall into the trap of using them mindlessly. I normally use them for tedious computations and/or to check my work. At the very least, try doing it first before putting it in those websites. Remember, you don’t have those websites when you’re taking midterms/finals. 

Still use them though. Especially for computations that you know you can do. It saves so much time. 

If your prof/TA offer extra lectures or office hours, grab it with both hands and run with it. Seriously, just do it. 

Use spell/grammar checker on your laptop. Please just do it. It saves so much time and effort. 

DO YOUR WORK!

Yeah, yeah, this is on every single tip you will ever see, but this is true. Do your work now, and you will save time when studying for midterms/finals. For things like math and physics and chem, doing your work now guarantees you understand what’s going on now, so that you don’t go half the semester barely understanding what’s going on and have to cram everything before the midterm. Doing the work is really really important because that’s how you learn, so please just do them regularly. You will be lost and confused if you don’t. 

Do your readings! Even if you don’t understand a single word being said in your readings, skim them before class. You’ll then recognize things in lectures, and that will jog your memory. One of my prof once said that if you read the material before lecture, even if you don’t understand it, your first exposure to that material won’t be on the lectures, so you actually learn/understand something from the lectures, instead of just seeing them for the very first time. 

Do the assignments! My prof once told the class about a student that did great on midterms and finals, but never submit any of their assignment, and that student barely pass the class. DO YOUR ASSIGNMENTS

Do the extra credit, if you have them. My women studies class have participation grades, my bio class have participation, my friend’s physics class have extra quizzes. If you can, do them. My friend barely passed his midterms, but got a solid B+ in his final grade because he did all the extra credits. It helps you by adding the opportunities in which you can interact with the material too! 

Go to lectures. Please. Your prof knows what they want you to know, and so those things ARE GOING TO BE ON TESTS. Just go to lectures. I know it sucked, but please just go. 

Miscellaneous

Take breaks! This is also on every study tips you can ever find, but this is very important. One piece of advice I once got was that your brain is a muscle, so exercise it the way you would every other muscle. You don’t go bench-pressing 100kg of weights for hours on end. You go to the gym for a few hours, then you rest. Treat your brain like that. 

Don’t schedule one-hour breaks between classes. It’s not long enough to do anything of actual worth, unless you want that one-hour to be a full-on break. Then go ahead. But don’t think you can do any work of actualy worth in an one-hour break. (It’s because a one-hour break between classes are not actually one hour. You have the time cut off from leaving the previous class, and I usually dither because I know I don’t have anything afterwards. Then you have the time cut off from going to the next class, where I also usually take my time. So a one-hour break between classes are actually more like a half-hour.) 

Schedule in buffer time! You know how sometimes shit happens? This is your fail-safe. Your buffer, to help maintain a pH of sanity. A half-hour here or there. This time can be used if your bus is late, or if you suddenly misjudge how long it will take you to do your assignment, or if you suddenly find yourself needing to curl up in a ball because of cramps. Don’t schedule anything here. You can use it as a break if you don’t need it, but normally you will need it anyways, so don’t keep a few slots open in your schedule to be a buffer. 

Make friends in your lectures! Then you will have at least one reason to go to your lectures. As a bonus you will have someone to study with too! 

Find something nice for you to do, just for yourself. I take ballet classes every week and forget about everything I have to do when I’m in ballet class. It keeps you sane. 

So there you are folks! Stay sane and stay healthy! 

#study tips #lian writes #but not really? #i don't know #I hope this can help people

[fanfics-await-you]

Sometimes It Comes Down to a Choice (Part 4)

Pairing: Christopher Pike x Female OC

Takes place some point in the future after the events of the Red Angel

Summary: Alina has always carried a secret flame for her Captain and she's always known that it could never lead anywhere. However, the combination of a party and some drunken words might just make that a little more complicated. The only problem, everything just seems to be going wrong. Who knows, maybe a proper goodbye is just what they need.

Tags: angst, injury, a pair of dumbasses unnecessarily complicating things, mild blood

Notes: I like my characters to be strong and have stories and relationships in their own right. Like, I just don't like writing stories where they justs exist for the romance. I find it…eh. also, i've been without internet so i still haven't seen the finale!

Also, thank you everyone for the kind reviews and support! I've really appreciated it!

Word Count: 2,328

masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

———

Ba-bump.

Ba-bump.

Ba-bump.

All I can grasp is agony. It's in the strands of my DNA, it's the only thing holding me together, it's all I know.

Ba-bump.

My heartbeat is as loud as a pulsating thunderclap.

Ba-bump.

I can't move. Not a single finger. I can't tell if it's the pain or the weight of the sky.

Ba-bump.

Light.

Ba-bump.

The world becomes a maelstrom of indistinguishable sensations.

Ba-bump.

Echoing shouts of meaningless sound drill into my skull.

Ba-bump.

Without warning, someone touches me. A choked shriek more animal than human pierces the air. Somehow, I realise it must be me.

Ba-bump.

I'm being touched all over and the only reason I don't scream again is because my lungs won't fill.

Ba-bump.

The thunder is fading.

Ba-bump.

I can feel the great black swallowing me but I want to stay.

Ba-bump.

As much as it hurts, I want to stay.

Ba-bump.

The dark doesn't care. It devours me anyway.

———

I'm warm.

It's the first feeling that my mind conjures. Slowly, the physicality of the world comes into focus underneath my skin. The tickle of my hair against my neck, the light press of a blanket across my legs, my fingers curling into a weak fist against the sheets; I allow the sensations to wash over me without judgement. The absence of pain is a welcome but deeply alien lightness. Once I've taken some steady breaths and feel sure that I can take whatever lays beyond me, I open my eyes.

A medbay?

No, not a medbay. I recognise this place.

Everything is still too foggy for thoughts to come easily but any panic that had been growing in my chest dissipates. It's safe and it's home and that's enough.

"Hi Alina."

I turn to blearily look at the man next to me. Dr Culber…

"Hugh?"

His face breaks into a huge smile like I've performed some miracle.

"You have no idea how good it is to see you awake."

…Maybe I have.

"What happened?" He helps me sit up as my muscles ache from disuse.

He scratches his head apprehensively before starting, "I should alert the crew…Shit, the captain."

I shake my head before I find my voice, "No, not yet. I-I need answers first."

Hugh seems unsure but sits next to me on the bed anyway, "I guess there's the question of how much you remember?"

I furrow my brow, "I remember running for the surface and then-" my fingers go to the bandage on my forehead-"something hit me. I went down. Then there was a lot of pain, and now we're here."

He brushes my hair away from the bandage gently, "It's mostly healed but I wanted to wait for your permission to remove the scar…I know how much they can mean to people."

I nod gently but say nothing.

Hugh continues, "We found you not long after the bunker's collapse. We managed to track your bio-sign and use the Discovery's tractor beam to clear away the debris. Almost all of your bones and organs had sustained trauma and you were clinging onto life. You've been in a coma for four days to give your body time to heal and…"

"To see if I would wake up?"

"Yeah. I knew you would, though. You've always been a fighter, Alina."

He pauses to take a deep breath and it settles like a heavy weight in my throat.

"If you hadn't stayed conscious for so long, or had been much deeper underground or any number of things, we wouldn't have been able to find you. But you'd nearly made it to the surface all by yourself…Your fingers were bloody from trying to climb out."

The quiet admiration on his face is enough to make me tear up. I feel him take my hand.

"You saved yourself, Alina."

A little hiccuping sob sneaks out.

"Not that anyone was surprised by that."

This time, a breathy snort slips out.

A silence settles between us for a little while as Hugh holds my hand and I find my calm.

"Can I go back to my quarters?"

He seems surprised, "I mean, yes, after some tests…People will want to know you're awake."

I close my eyes for a moment, "I know but I-I just can't right now…I need some time to process first. Just say that I'm okay if people ask but that I need some space."

"…I understand…Well, sit still and I'll go get my diagnostic tool."

I lean back against the pillows.

"So, first question: the scar?"

"How does it make me look?"

"Like an absolute badass."

For the first time in a while, I feel a smile curl across my face, "Well then I've got to keep it."

———

Sleep is elusive with dreams of my dirt-filled lungs keeping it at bay. So instead I'm sitting by my window and try to piece together some answers from the stars before me. Unfortunately, they're not saying much.

I survived.

It just doesn't feel concrete, like this is my mind's final comfort and any minute the world will fall away. Absentmindedly, I trace the thin scar mirroring my eyebrow. If anything, this mark is the only thing grounding me right now.

The gentle ring of the doorbell breaks my trance. I quietly sigh. The ship's day-lighting had flared not long ago; I knew someone would come past soon enough.

"Door."

However, I am not prepared for Chris to be on the other side of the door.

For a couple of seconds, he doesn't move. His expression is somehow two parts admiration, one part grief. I feel the weeks apart slip off my shoulders like sandbags. I don't care that he won't- can't -choose me. The sliver of me concerned about pride or dignity has melted away. I don't know if this is forgiveness or simply acceptance.

"Chris?" the word is both pleading and unsure.

I stand too quickly and the room becomes painted with technicolour streaks of black. The fear that everything will dissolve into darkness surges up my throat and I squeeze my eyes shut to stave off the panic. Before I can fall, strong hands are holding me upright. Instinctively, my hands go to his shoulders and I lean closer. It's a couple of darting breaths before I can open my eyes. I'm met by vibrant blue eyes lined with warmth and concern.

"Are you alright?" Chris' voice is interwoven with worry.

I nod, unable to find words or take my eyes off him.

The strong grip at my arm and waist are an anchor but I still don't know what to say to him. There's so much that I couldn't say but now can that is haunting the tip of my tongue.

"I am so sorry, Alina."

"No-"

"I should never have pushed you away."

"I-"

"I should never have put you at risk."

"That's-"

"You should never have had to put your life on the line."

"I made-"

"A choice. I know. But-"

"Chris," I cut through his flood of words.

I cautiously brush a thumb across his cheek just to feel his skin. His eyes search mine- for what, I don't know.

"There's no need to apologise. There never was. You've always done what you thought you had to. It's something I've always…respected about you." I don't stop drawing patterns against his cheek.

Chris closes his eyes and lightly leans into my hand. I take the moment to study the lines of his face. The bone-deep weariness drawn across his features cracks something within me and finally the words find a way out.

"When I was down there, waiting for the countdown…I only thought about one thing."

Chris' eyebrows furrow and his eyes open to meet my gaze in silent question.

What I would give to kiss him one last time.

I would truly give anything just to have him here, holding my hand, as the world ends.

I lean forward until our foreheads meet. He gently nudges me back, brushing our noses together, in a familiar, simple movement that ruptures the floodwall. Tears begin to fall before I find the strength to speak.

My voice cracks, "How much I wanted to come back to you."

Chris' hands come to frame my face but I screw my eyes shut. I can't bear to look at him anymore. I can't bear to know that he will always be right there but never mine.

The words cascade out of me without regard, "I know that this can't happen but I need you to listen, to know what you mean to me. You gave me the strength to stare death in the face. You were the one I wanted to run back to, those weapons be damned. You were the person I wanted by my side when I thought my time was up…I choose you, Chris, even if you can't choose me."

"Alina…"

"Chris, please, I don't want pity, I coul-"

"Sometimes it comes down to a choice," his voice is quiet but steady.

I dare to open my eyes. He bears a tentative smile that I can't help but gently return through the persisting tears.

Please, please, please.

"Sometimes you make the wrong decision. Sometimes you lose the only thing that ever really mattered and you have to bear that regret for the rest of your life…but sometimes, if you're truly lucky, you get the chance to try again."

The hope in my chest is expanding with every breath. I'm trying to not grin, to not prematurely celebrate a moment that's not yet mine, but I'm failing. Instead, I take one of his hands in mine and gently press it to my mouth in a lingering kiss to hide my budding smile. Chris tucks back a stray strand of my hair as his own grin grows from hesitant to glowing. I am suddenly struck by the symmetry of this moment with the last time we were this close and find myself praying that this story will end differently.

"Alina, it was unfair of me to think that you would ever make me choose between you and our crew. I underestimated you and for that, I am sorry…I also know that I caused you pain and I know that you said you wouldn't wait around for me to come to my senses but-"

I don't let him finish.

I pull Chris tighter against me as I bring his lips to mine. This time he tastes ever-so-slightly of honey and I want to drown in it, in him. He presses back against me like he's the one drowning and it gives me a little thrill that I am so wanted. Chris' hands dig into my shoulder and back, and his strength is probably the only thing keeping me on my feet. I can feel every line of his body against me and the pressure against the aches of my injuries is nothing short of delicious. The fevered beat of Chris' heart echoes beneath my fingers and every pulse further washes away my fears. This is real, I am alive, we're going to be okay. I break away first but the very welcome cage of his arms means I don't go far.

"I know you Christopher Pike, you don't need to apologise to me for trying to do the right thing."

Maybe I'm forgiving or risking more than I should but I love Chris. With every fallible, mortal, and adoring part of me, I love him. He nods, his face still unsure. Gently, I brush my thumb across his brow and smooth out the worry lines before going up on my tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on his forehead. Chris' arms tighten at my waist but his eyes are bright. He leans in for another kiss but I place a single finger against his lips, making him pause. His puzzled expression is enough to make me laugh but what I need to say sobers me slightly. I take a step back as Chris continues to look on in confusion. Slowly, I place a splayed hand just above his heart and take a moment to admire how alive he feels beneath my fingers before I speak.

"I choose you, Chris. In this life, the next, all of them, whatever I don't care- I choose you. I-I love you."

His expression almost makes me cry again simply because no one has ever looked at me like Chris does, like I put the stars in the sky. Steadily, his hand comes to mirror mine and rest just above my heart.

"I've loved you since you saved me back on Kaminar. I choose you, Alina Osborne, and I'll follow you to the ends of the universe if you let me."

This time when Chris leans in for a kiss, I don't stop him. The taste of his smile against mine is enough to wash away the weight of the world.

#Christopher Pike #christopher pike x reader #christopher pike x oc #christopher pike fanfiction #star trek #star trek discovery #star trek disco

[chemicalmagecraft]

The Gamer Hero, Deku Chapter 17

A/N: I know I said that I probably wouldn't post for a while because finals, but then I had a flash of inspiration and my poor time management instincts took over. But seriously, now that I'm done clearing my WIPs so they don't distract me later, it'll probably be a week or so until I start working on my fanfics again. Need to do a bunch of essays, then I'm giving myself a bit of time to be lazy once break starts up. So for once, I'd like to ask you guys to not give me suggestions for a bit...

The first part of this chapter is something that I figured should happen eventually. How would magic change an already superhuman society?

Have a Little Feith: Thanks for the suggestion! I certainly don't mind using legendaries, however I already have plans for that particular one. My idea for Momo was more along the lines of manufacture.

Xekless: With the exception of elementals, humans (and some animals) are the only inherently magical beings that exist as of this point in the story. Let's just say there's a reason nobody knew of magic before Midoriya...

xoxoxo

In the weeks leading up to the sports festival, we saw a surprising amount of magical advancements in the world. Supernatural healing, which was once considered rare and often involved some sort of caveat that meant it couldn't be used freely, turned into a matter of training, skill, and mana, even if it was weaker. I actually did some volunteer work helping some local hospitals out with the spells, as well as the regular medical help I needed to do for Shuzenji-sensei's healing course.

While only lightning mana could be directly converted into electricity, special generators were built to use other kinds of mana as fuel, meaning more people could work at power plants and more clean energy. There was probably also research being done to use mana as it was. More water-users meant improved water services. Construction businesses flourished with earth mages. Apparently Uraraka's parents in particular gained some profit because she was able to use her elementals to get her parents a few interesting spells in their elements. She and Aizawa were really happy about that, actually.

Conservation only benefited from a new wave of bio-elementalists and other kinds of magic-users. In fact, I heard there was a group that was in the process of getting permits to use magic to deal with the trash in the sea and on the beaches better. Not to mention, even unaspected magic was incredibly useful in agriculture, so farms were able to produce more crops. I even heard about some experiments in infusing plants with magic, which sounded interesting.

While there was, unfortunately, a bit of a rise in villain attacks with the advent of magic, pro heroes were better able to combat it with the fact that hero agencies had more or less turned into modern-day mage guilds. I'm sure there was someone out there biding their time until they learned how to cast Ultima or Raise Greater Undead, but at the same time pro heroes were organized, well-funded, and now produced their own spells, so they could handle it. I even saw on the news that the Wild, Wild Pussycats now had a series of cat-themed spells.

There were still some limitations on dissemination of magical knowledge to the general public, but a few weak spells were made available to everyone. With the buzz about magic, I heard there were talks about reducing Quirk- and magic-usage laws, which was exciting. I mean, I may or may not have been using my magic in public a bit already, but it'd be nice to be a bit less sneaky about it...

xoxoxo

"Poor thing," I said as I looked at the small, gold-furred cat that Juniper alerted me was in a nearby alley. She was missing part of her right foreleg, and the stump was bleeding. She had a few more scrapes, and her fur was dirty. She gave me a weak meow. I'd always liked cats, so I felt a pang in my heart to see one so hurt. "What happened to you?

Stray Cat

LV 6

Kitten

I reached my hand out to her, but she shied away. I concentrated, trying to use Magycked Words to put my intention into what I was about to say. "I want to help," I murmured in a soothing tone, then closed a popup for a new skill, Animal Whisperer. She looked a little bit calmer now. "Good, now just hold... still..." I slowly reached my hand out to her, whispering affirmations to her. She let me touch her, and I activated Healing Hands. "That's a good girl. I'm healing you now."

Unfortunately Healing Hands couldn't do much for her missing limb, but at least it wasn't bleeding anymore. After her wounds were dealt with, I gave her a quick rinse to clean her off, making sure to dry her off completely before she could get cold. Oddly enough, though, her temperature didn't drop at all from the water. She purred at me, now doing much better. She didn't have a collar, but... "Does she have a chip on her, Raimon?" I asked.

"I don't... think so?" he said. "I can't find anything like that on her."

I grinned. "Then I guess you're coming with me, girl." I picked her up. "A cat with golden fur... I think I have the purrfect name for you." She purred, and her fur... glowed. She got really warm. "Okay nevermind Yang it is," I said.

Stray Cat

LV 6

Yang

A cat with a Quirk... I'd heard of people having pets with Quirks before but I wasn't entirely sure what the rules were. I assumed I'd have to register her, though.

"Don't you still have school today?" Claude asked.

I bolted up. "Crap! School!" I looked at the time. Kacchan was probably looking for me. I looked around for a place to put Yang, then had an idea.

xoxoxo

"The hell were you taking so long?" Kacchan asked me when I ran up to him.

"I, uhhh... had a magic thing?" I said, then rubbed the back of my head.

Wait crud that's was the wrong hand! I quickly lowered my arm, but not before a meow escaped from my sleeve...

"Why the fuck did I just hear a cat?" Kacchan asked.

"Oh I don't know, maybe there's a cat nearby?" Kacchan looked around, then focused on my sleeve. I acted totally natural, nothing up my sleeves at all! For a second I felt like he would buy it.

He didn't buy it.

"Oi Deku, what's up your sleeve?" He grabbed my hand a bit more forcefully than I'd have liked, causing it to fall out of my sleeve. "...What the actual fuck," he said after a few moments of holding my disembodied right hand.

"Stupid Rayman limbs..." I muttered.

"Meow," Yang said as she poked her head out of my sleeve. To be honest I wasn't entirely sure how my sleeve was staying in proper shape considering most of my forearm was made out of air, but it was. Somehow.

"Did... Is your arm a cat now?" He looked between my still very much real hand and the cat's head coming from my sleeve. "You know what, I'm going to hold your hand hostage until you fucking explain."

"Not my hand!" I shouted. "I need that to not get arrested." I started trying to fly my hand out of Kacchan's grasp. Because my hand was attached to a body part I'd turned to air, it could fly. Somehow. It wasn't strong enough to escape Kacchan, though. Actually, I wondered how much of my body I had to turn into air before the rest would fly. I'd have to test that later...

"Stop muttering and answer the damn question."

"I wasn't just going to leave Yang there! She lost a leg."

Kacchan facepalmed, letting go of my hand. It floated back to Yang, and I scratched her chin with it before nudging her back so I could put my hand back in place. She was taking Air Embodiment surprisingly well. I was actually a little worried she'd activate her Quirk... "You named her already. In hindsight, though, I'm more surprised you haven't done something like this already. Actually, is it okay that the cat's breathing your arm?" He stopped walking and just rubbed his temples. "Hang... hang on, I just need a fucking moment to process how fucking absurd that last sentence was."

"I've confirmed that it's perfectly safe for both me and whatever's breathing me. Same for other elements. And I'm sure someone's said something like that before."

He started walking again. "Right. Your life is fucking weird. Not gonna give myself a headache. So how long can you do that?"

"Partial Embodiment is a lot less taxing than Full Embodiment, so it's just slightly more than what Mantra gives me back. In fact, if I get another point of INT, then it might just break even. If I use Meditate every so often, I'll be able to keep this up until we get home. Assuming we don't have practicals in Hero Studies today."

He shrugged. "Fuck it, good for you. Now we should probably hurry as fast as we can without you jostling the cat. We're already a little late."

xoxoxo

I was walking in the hallway on my own when I heard a meow. I froze and so did Aizawa-sensei, who was walking past me. I silently pleaded with Sonia to help. She gave me a grin. A grin I could almost describe as like the Cheshire Cat's...

"Meow," she said. Audibly. Even with Gamer's Mind, I could feel my heart pounding. I tried not to let it show on my face. I tensed up, though, when Yang meowed again. Though I noticed that Aizawa also grimaced. Yang pushed my hand out of the way, but at the same time a black cat with golden eyes poked her head out of Aizawa-sensei's capture weapon.

Alley Cat

LV 4

Blake

I nodded at him.

He nodded at me.

Yang and Blake meowed at each other.

I offered Aizawa-sensei my right arm in an invitation to pet Yang. He gratefully did so, then pointed to Blake. I used my floating right hand to pet her.

We nodded to each other, then gently nudged our cats back into their hiding spots and walked away. I had to Meditate in the bathroom for a bit because the stress of the moment deactivated Mantra, though.

We never talked about our encounter, though we did trade a few cat puns later in the day. I'm not an expert, but I think that makes us brothers.

xoxoxo

"Hey mom?" I said as I opened the door. "I have something I'd like to ask you about..."

"What is it, sweetie?"

I brought Yang out from behind my back. "Her name is Yang."

Mom sighed. "Honey, you know a cat is a big responsibility..."

"I promise I'll take good care of her!" I promised.

She frowned, then nodded after a moment of thought. "Alright, you can keep her."

"Thank you!" I shouted. "Oh, uh... By the way, she has a Quirk..."

"Izuku..."

xoxoxo

As it turned out, the Japanese government is very approving of Quirky animals being pets with responsible owners, though there was some red tape surrounding it. It made sense that they wouldn't want animals who had no concept of Quirk usage laws just roaming the streets... First I had to get her registered and fitted with a special chip that could withstand a lot more heat than normal chips thanks to her fire-based Quirk. Then we had to go to specialized classes for us to be able to deal with her if she activated her Quirk. I also got a good prosthetic for her with some of the money I got for various prizes related to discovering magic.

Thanks to Animal Whisperer I gained an increased understanding of all animals. After a few talks with Yang, I could pretty much speak cat, which was neat. I was hoping to get a familiar skill, though. Even if I never used Yang like a proper familiar, a familiar skill might give me access to her Quirk, I Burn, which would be nice.

For my preparation for the sports festival, I decided to focus mainly on DEX and INT. Because I was more or less indestructible due to Damage Reduction and Elemental Embodiment, I didn't need to worry about VIT at all. Because of that, I decided to focus on my original idea I'd had before Roaring Muscles to train my DEX, though with INT training as well to power up my magic. It was close, but a few days before the sports festival I got both above one hundred.

DEX gave me three skills, Light Step, Flash Step, and Weird Flex. Light Step was the next version of Fleet Foot and Flash Step was, well, a Flash Step. I could use MP to cross a few meters in the blink of an eye. Weird Flex... had a fitting name. It seemed to just make me disturbingly flexible. The flavor text implied that it was what made contortionists contortionists, and I couldn't really disagree with that. It seemed like it'd be useful, though, because it was a passive that didn't use MP.

Raising INT gave me Mana Talent, Eye for Magic, and Open Mind. Mana Talent, like Light Step, was a better Mana Affinity. Eye for Magic, which I got because I had an eye-enhancing spell, was a spell that allowed me to "see" magic, which was absurdly useful. I could probably copy spells just by looking at them, for one. It gave me really bad eye strain, though. Open Mind was also a potentially useful spell. The flavor text said it was mind magic, which was useful in and of itself because it gave me a base for mind magic, and it allowed me to hear other people's thoughts. When I used it, I was able to hear the internal monologues of everyone in the spell's radius, and could hone in on one person in particular. I wouldn't use it much because it was clearly an invasion of privacy, but I was sure I could put it to good use.

With my stats where I wanted them, I spent the rest of the time before the sports festival practicing various spells and skills. The day of the sports festival, I knew I was ready.

xoxoxo

A/N: I thought of that scene with the cats and was legally obligated to write it. This is a little shorter than my usual chapters, but I figured you guys would prefer one short one now and then a longer one in however long it'll take me to do all my school stuff and then start the sports festival arc than just an especially long one later. And now I have no excuse not to do my schoolwork. Pray for me...

#fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bnha #The Gamer Hero Deku #Gamer Hero Deku #GHD CH17

[steadycoffeeflow]

Day 10. Flowing | H&J

This prompt was supposed to be about Leo and his addictions, in the framework of J&H. I didn’t want to write that. Maybe another time. Instead, we get my self-insert character. She seemed easier to slip into and deal with.

Today was also Mental Health Day! Take care of yourselves you fucking eggs.

Osmosis: a process by which molecules of a solvent tend to pass through a semipermeable membrane from a less concentrated solution into a more concentrated one, thus equalizing the concentrations on each side of the membrane.

The concept was something Steady knew they’d gone over in high school AP Bio class. She could picture it, as if a mere decade hadn’t passed her by at all. Mr. Brett who was a portly and pleasant man with a full, pepper-salt beard who always referred to himself in the third person. They were setting up an experiment that involved potato slices.

Damn if Steady could remember what the results were. Just one thing stuck out to her: homeostasis and equilibrium. Needing to have a balance.

And as she sipped from her coffee mug - laden with irish cream and vodka, her fingers feeling heavy and mind slipping even farther away - she considered that. Mulled it over. Fixated on the idea.

Having a balance. Two solutions. One lacking and the other too much. Too much of what varied. Energy. Electricity. Food dye. It didn’t matter what - it was just Too Much. A lot. Excess. It needed to be burned off, in the case of energy. Spread and shared around in the case of dye.

One side, flowing into the other. Filling in for the lack and spreading out what was too much. It sounded...nice. Peaceful. The type of ideal tranquility that would strike her on some odd Thursday night, an ordinary day out of ordinary days, and make her begin to weep, curling in on herself.

Steady watched, eyes languid, as Mr. Brett put the potato slices in the water, then took another sip of the syrup, letting it sting her tongue pleasantly.

One time, just before college started, Steady had been struck by the idea that she needed to go camping. Had made it to the door with her old tent pack gear, a couple days’ worth of food and a fishing pole. She didn’t even know if there would be water where she was going. Didn’t even know where she was going. Said as much when her mother asked. Both parents had flown into rages at that, thinking she was running away. Hell if Steady even knew where she was running to, let alone away from, just knew she needed to run.

It happened another time, when she was still working in Detroit. This one had an impulse. ‘New York State of Mind’ by Billy Joel came on the radio, cutting through the static of the afternoon and information technology article write-ups. Steady had to go to New York. Could see it so clearly, her sitting on a bench, watching the taxi lanes clog up, observing the people on their phones and in their nice clothes with her darting eyes. She’d only seen the city on the news, for New Year celebrations, in the older shows before the century.

She got to the receptionist when he’d joked: “Taking a second lunch?”

She’d frozen, hand raised to push the handle, but not quite touching it. The spell broken, she laughed at him. “Just putting my bag in the car. Thinking of taking a walk to wake up.” Nodded. Accepted. Normal response.

She had to be more normal.

There was that other time at college, her mind pivoted to next. She’d stayed up, drifting into hour-long naps once every 24-hour period because, distantly, she knew she needed some rest, and all she’d been doing was writing. Writing writing writing until her wrists were aching with the force of creation.

Then, she crashed for 32 hours, unable to move. When she woke up, groggy and head stuffed full of pain, she’d called home. Explained what had happened.

‘Oh honey, you’re just creative.’

But this was different than all-nighters in high school. Each new idea had been something to explore, a compulsion she had to explore. It was frightening, getting swept up in a tide of creation. Usually the process was freeing. This...this was something else. She was skipping class, realizing only when it was dark out that she hadn’t left to go to the dining hall, that someone - her roommate - had asked if she wanted to go. Then snuck a plate back. Bought a sandwich using Steady’s ID. Put a bottle of water snugged up on the pillow with a smiley face on a sticky note and Steady couldn’t answer her own question: When had that gotten there? When did you last drink water? Shower? Eat? Use the bathroom?

People joked. ‘Who’s your supplier, eh?’

Who knew how long Reese had been standing there. Not Steady, that was for sure. She jumped when she noticed him leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed and a slight crease to his brow. “Heya,” she said, chipper.

“You do this often?” he asked, processing something.

Steady looked around the kitchen. “Cook? Yes. I need to eat food, Reese,” she snorted, going back to slicing the peppers.

“Are you cooking for an army? Was there a new upgrade I didn’t know about, where androids have to eat too?”

Steady bristled a bit. Reese wasn’t laughing. Wasn’t brushing it off. Which meant she’d misstepped. Shit.

Taking inventory of the counter, she tried to think if this was excessive. Was it too much? There was the crockpot with the chili simmering away on low. Had been for the past three hours. Still needed another five or so, which meant it would be ready for her to take to work. Then, she still had pepper left, so she was slicing those up to fry for a fajita mix she’d cook up once the chili vacated the crock pot.

This all had a logical, clear progression.

Steady looked confused at Reese, to see if he was going to fill in any gaps she was missing.

“Are you going to eat that all tonight, or will you be feasting in your dreams?” he asked, holding out his hands at the mess.

Steady followed the hand motions instead of looking at Reese’s face. Couldn’t meet his eyes. Whenever she did look at him, she found herself drawn to his chin, or maybe the wave of his hair or the tattoos he had. Or just the knife in her hand - that was a good idea - to keep an eye on that.

“I mean,” she said, mumbling it now. Voice lower than she needed it to be. Had to pitch it up. Sound like she wasn’t affected - like she normally was. “I’m just not tired. Must be the coffee, whoops.”

Reese frowned. Folded his arms. Watched her. “You...last cup of coffee you had was this morning.”

The blade skipped on the pepper skin. The blade was dull. Knew she had to watch it, or she’d graze her knuckles, slide a fingertip. “Should cut it out entirely,” she replied, smiling ruefully. “Last doc suggested I go straight decaf if I needed to have my hot drink fix. I never went back.”

Reese nodded. Didn’t say anything until Steady was working on the third and final pepper to slice. The pile was consuming the counter space, thin, uneven strips of it falling off the cutting board. “Well, are you going to need help cleaning up…?”

He moved to the sink and Steady jolted. “No.”

Her cry rang out. Probably alerted Rose and Aria. She winced, sucking air through her teeth as she bowed her head over the pepper. “Don’t. I’m good. I’ll clean up after myself.”

“That’s a lot of mess,” Reese started to protest.

“Don’t.”

“Okay.” He relented easy, likely had only been offering to be polite.

Steady eased up, then scooped the peppers up, dropping them into a waiting, warm pan. She turned up the heat, added a dash of butter, then turned to the flank steak. She’d used about half for the chili. Could sear it nicely with the fajita mix. Keep that on low for another-

“It’s nice to see you up and about. Last two weeks you spent on the couch,” Reese said.

Steady shrugged. She was missing something. Something about this scene was odd to him. She had to figure it out, smooth it down, fill in the crack somehow.

Reese patted the island counter. “Well, looks like you’ll be a minute or two. Mind if I…?”

“Go for it,” Steady said, smiling. Forgot why she’d been worried anyway. Probably just paranoid. Nothing to worry about. She busied herself slicing up the beef. Methodical. After a couple of minutes, her mouth began to move of its own accord. Filled in the cracks. And Reese listens. Listened to her story about high school AP biology as she trimmed the fat from the meat. Soaked it in when she relayed the story about camping back in Detroit as she stirred the peppers, appreciating how they were sweating down and charring the bottom of the pan. Tilted his head as he considered her story about wanting to travel to New York.

“Is that why you’re here now?” Reese asked.

“What?”

“New York. Now. Rose hasn’t mentioned how you two met yet.”

“Oh. No. That’s not - I’m. That’s something else, I mean. I always wanted to go to New York, who doesn’t. There was this one time we were going to see a Broadway performance, actually, but the trip just didn’t work out so we went to the local Apple Diner Theater in my hometown instead. Gosh that was such a good - my friend was in it? She was great. Knew her from high school. She used to sneak out with me during lunch breaks. Always smoked. I never did. I mean the harder shit. Sometimes I get a nicotine hit.” Steady shrugged, pushed the meat into the pan. “Wonder what happened to her.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! I mean, we had a falling out. People always have falling outs with me.” A tightness overtook Steady’s chest and her eyes stung. Must be the peppers. No - that was onions. “Misunderstandings and the like. They get tired. But…” Where had she been going? Right, the play! “It was Wicked! She had the role of the witch…”

And as Steady bustled about in the early hours of the morning, limbs, chest, fingers, heart - mind - racing with electricity, Reese listened. He inclined his head this way and that, shrugged, flashed his palms, wrinkled his nose that caused the burns around his brown eye to crinkle.

Outside the night pressed in, chilling and tran - We should decorate the house for Halloween. Just the inside should be fine. Not too attention grabbing. I can go shopping after work and- quil in its absolute pitch blackness.

And things felt just right.

#inktober #inktober2018 #promptober #dbh fic #my writing #steady writes #day 10 #flowing #hey so this was uuuuhhhh pretty easy to write because most of its nonfiction #imagine that #one day i'll get to leo but i'm less familiar with those struggles honestly #wanna do them right #rkhaus

[firemedicdiaz]

My Heart Beats Only for You

Fandom: Star Trek AOS. Pairing: Leonard McCoy X Reader. Word Count: 3610. Warnings: kidnapping, injury, torture, blood, death. Rating: Adult (18+). Genre: Angst. Summary: Reader gets kidnapped by a small regiment of Suliban soldiers working off of some misinformation in the midst of their Temporal Cold War campaign and Leonard is desperate to get them back. Author’s Note: Requested by @mysteriously-lost-forever.  Many elements of this story come from Star Trek: Enterprise, but it’s not critical to have knowledge of the series to read this.

“We’ve been at this for hours,” Leonard complains, swatting at some sort of insect buzzing near his head.  “Are you sure these are the right coordinates?”

“These are the coordinates the High Council sent on to me, yes,” Jim replies, frowning down at the display on his PADD.

“That doesn’t tell me whether they’re right,” Leonard grouses.

You chuckle softly to yourself as you glance around through the thick jungle around you, spying all sorts of exotic plants and animals.  You’re kind of a third wheel on the away mission, having only come because you’d been going a bit stir crazy being cooped up on the Enterprise.  Dr. M’Benga had said some fresh air would do wonders for your mental health, and so you’d been invited along, and you’re not too upset that you’ve been on the ground for so long.  Truth be told, you wouldn’t be upset if you were stuck planet side for days; there are so many new and interesting things to see that you’re having a wonderful time, ancient ruins and your archaeological mission be damned.

As the remainder of the crew bicker amongst each other, you let your eyes fall on every flash of movement and glinting of sunlight off dew drops you catch sight of, ignoring the animosity that’s growing between the others.  You’re just panning your gaze over to a sector of the jungle you haven’t explored yet when a flash of something crimson catches your eye through the foliage.  It piques your curiosity and so with a quick glance over your shoulder to ensure that everyone is still nearby, you dash off through the vines to get a closer look at whatever the strange object or animal is.

You pause a short distance away from where you’d seen the flash, listening closely for movement.  Nothing catches your attention and so you continue to creep forward slowly, not wanting to scare any sort of animal or catch a predator off guard and become lunch.  You’re just about to the spot when you hear a soft crunch of fresh and fallen foliage underfoot and feel a sharp pinch at your neck.

“Ow!”  You hiss, spinning around to look for the source of the stinging.

The last thing you see before your world begins to darken at the edges and you’re pulled into unconsciousness is a man of an alien species you don’t immediately recognize clad in the same crimson you’d glimpsed through the trees.  You’re out cold before you even hit the ground.

A short distance away, Leonard glances around as Jim attempts to hail the Enterprise, his eyebrows knit in concern.

“Did you hear something?”  He asks.

Jim glances up from his comm, his gaze also flicking around through the trees.

“You’re getting paranoid, Bones,” he surmises.

Leonard rolls his eyes, planting his hands on his hips and turning full circle, trying to find the source of the noise he’d heard.  It had sounded like a voice off in the distance and had gotten his attention.

“Gather the crew,” Jim instructs. “Much as I hate to admit that you were right, I don’t think what we’re looking for is out here.”

Leonard trudges off with a nod, heading out to round up the others.  He locates the three members of the security detail and the Enterprise’s chief xenoanthropologist easily, but returns to the clearing when a five-minute walkabout turns up no signs of you.

“Has anyone seen Y/N?” He asks.

The others shake their heads.

“Fan out, look for her,” Jim instructs.  “Report back in ten minutes.”

Ten minutes go by in a flash as everyone spreads out in spokes to look for you.  Leonard’s nerves are on high alert when everyone returns empty-handed.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Jim reassures him. “I’ll get Spock to scan for her bio sign.”

Leonard crosses his arms over his chest, his heart thudding heavily in his chest as all sorts of nightmarish worst-case scenarios start to go through his mind.  He pinches the bridge of his nose against the onslaught of mental images of you falling off of a cliff, getting mauled by an animal, or being stung by something highly lethal.

“Spock’ can’t find her,” Jim says grimly a moment later, breaking through Leonard’s reverie.

“What do you mean, he can’t find her?” Leonard snaps, his panic bubbling to the surface, cloaked in anger.

“I mean she’s gone,” Jim replies. “He can’t find her comm signature, either.  It’s like she’s disappeared into thin air.”

Leonard curses, running a hand through his hair.

Elsewhere at roughly the same time, you’re slowly coming around in a dark, dingy room on a small ship you’re completely unfamiliar with.  You wrinkle your nose at the musty scent that fills the air and gasp as the feeling of cuffs around your wrists and ankles sinks in and rouses you completely.  You whip your head around, wondering where you are and what’s happening.  Licking your lips, you attempt to cry out for help but your throat is too dry and hoarse for any sort of audible communication.

“No one can hear you scream in here,” a reedy voice says from the shadows somewhere to your left.  “And even if they could, they wouldn’t pay you any mind.”

Your heart rate picks up maddeningly as the implications of your captivity sink in.  The last thing you remember is a flash of crimson and a face, rough and greenish, looming over you.  You strain to peer into the inky blackness at the periphery of the room, your breath coming in short gasps as panic grips you, but to no avail.

“Who are you?”  You croak.  “Where am I?”

Your captor steps out of the shadows, revealing himself to be humanoid.  You wrack your brain for species you’ve seen in your textbooks and databases and gasp as the realization hits you.

“Suliban,” you rasp.  “What do you want with me?!”

“I want to know where I can find Captain Jonathan Archer,” the man demands.  “Comply and you’ll die painlessly.  Resist and you will learn the limits of your body and mind.”

You shake your head, straining against the shackles binding you to the table.

“No,” you spit.  “I’m not telling you anything.”

The man raises a hand and in it sits a thin, innocuous-looking metal rod not unlike an old car antenna in appearance.

“Where is Captain Archer?”  The man asks again, determination and malice glinting in his eyes.

“Not anywhere near here,” you snap.

He touches the tip of the rod to an exposed portion of your hand and you scream as agony courses through you.  It’s like an explosion of pain through every nerve fiber in your body with an epicenter where the prod is touching your skin. Your blood feels like liquid fire and you’re afraid you’re going to combust at any moment.  Then, as quickly as the pain came, it recedes again and leaves you limp and trembling in your shackles.

“Where is he?”  The Suliban officer asks once more.

You shake your head again, tears prickling at your eyes as you anticipate more pain.  Terror grips you and you fight to control the involuntary shaking the torture has brought out.  Sure enough, as you brace yourself moments later, the pain comes again, this time from a spot on your neck.  It radiates through every part of your body, inside and out, and you shout wordlessly as a rigor seizes your muscles.  You pray desperately for unconsciousness but it doesn’t come.  All there is as the seconds stretch on is pain.

Back on the Enterprise, Leonard is pacing back and forth on the bridge, agitation rippling off of him in waves. All workstations are up and running and every available crew member is helping in the search for you.  All scans for other life signs and shuttles in the area are coming back clean and to the trained eye, even the captain is beginning to show signs of compromise.

“Run the sweep again,” Captain Kirk orders the bridge crew.  “If there’s so much as a nanoparticle out of place, I want to know about it.”

“Aye, captain,” Spock acknowledges.

Leonard runs a hand through his hair, pausing in his tracks as Jim walks closer.

“We’ll find Y/N, Bones,” he assures the other man.  “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Leonard shakes his head with a derisive snort.

“The first thing they teach us in med school is never to make promises we can’t keep,” he mutters.  “You don’t know that, Jim, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t patronize me.”

Jim sighs and nods once, reaching up to pat Leonard on the shoulder before making his way over to the nearest console.  He peruses the information displayed there, searching for any sign of anything that might help them find you.  He’s just about ready to step away once more when he notices something on one of the sensors.

“Scotty,” he calls out.  “Take a look at the sonar.”

It’s outdated technology and rarely useful anymore what with the advancements in scanning technologies since its peak, but he’d ordered it to be set to run in hopes that just maybe it would pick up something, anything of use.

“What do we have here?”  Scotty asks as he switches interfaces.  “What’s that there, at the starboard edge of the sensor array?”

“I don’t know,” Jim replies. “Adjust the array another fifteen degrees starboard.”

Leonard strides over to the console at the small flurry of activity in the wake of Jim’s order and peers closely at the right side of the screen.  He’s not a navigator, but even he can tell that something is disrupting the sonar signal at the indicated coordinates.  Frowning, he looks up to Scotty for answers.

“It looks like another vessel, sir,” Scotty explains.  “She’s cloaked, but she’s there, right in front of us.”

“Can we identify it?”  The captain asks.

Spock leans in closer to his own viewscreen, peering at the vague shape on the sonar display.  Zooming in, he enhances the image a little bit and reaches back through his memory, searching for a match.

“Captain, if I’m not mistaken, it appears to be a Suliban Cell,” the first officer offers.  “Its shape is consistent with the specifications listen in our databases and the advanced cloaking technology also matches that of the Cabal.”

Jim curses under his breath, thinking back to the symposium he’d attended where Admiral Archer had discussed the Suliban Cabal, the Temporal Cold War, and the sorts of technological advancements Starfleet scientists could only dream about in the present times.

“Mr. Scott, I need you to get me on that ship,” the captain orders.

“Aye sir,” Scotty acknowledges. “But it’s going to take a little bit of time and a lot of faith in my calculation skills.”

“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” Jim clips out.  “I’ll be in the transporter room when you’re ready.”

“He’s not a captain anymore!” You sob, unable to hold back anymore.

The pain is unending now.  Whether the prod is touching your skin or not, everything hurts.  You feel like every bone in your body must be broken, every muscle torn to shreds, every organ failing from the agony.  You can’t remember what it’s like not to feel pain, and you’ve given up hope on ever being safe again, on being rescued and seeing Leonard.

Leonard.

You’d take all the hypos in the world for even a brief respite from the agony, and for Leonard’s arms around you. He could fix this, but you’re afraid he’ll never get the chance.  You’re not sure how much longer you can hold out.  Even your heartbeat seems to be giving out, skipping wildly and beating through your chest.

“Finally,” the Suliban says smugly. “Some compliance.”

He circles the table, reaching out to stroke along your cheek with a single finger, making pain echo and amplify through along the side of your face.

“You held out longer than I thought you would,” he admits.  “I’ll get the information I need and still have time for lunch afterward.”

His cavalier attitude makes your blood boil and the anger gives you hope; you were sure you’d never feel anything but despair again just moments before.

“Now, tell me,” he sneers, dragging his fingertip down your neck and over your chest, poking you firmly in between two ribs.  “Where is Admiral Archer?”

“In a big, cushy office, like all the other admirals,” you groan.  “I don’t know where he’s stationed.”

“That’s not good enough,” the man hisses. “Looks like we’re going to have to wear you down some more.”

He disappears from your side for a brief moment, but you don’t let your guard down.  You jerk at the shackles binding you some more even though you know it’s futile and you’re only wasting precious energy.  Within moments, the alien is back, this time with a sinister looking curved dagger in his hand.

“Last chance,” he goads you, holding up the blade so you can see the few untarnished spots on it glinting in the light. “Talk, or I’ll make you talk.”

“No, please!”  You beg weakly.  “I don’t know!  I swear, I don’t know!”

“Suit yourself,” the Suliban says with a shrug.

He brings the blade down and firmly grasps one of your wrists with his free hand.  Turning your palm up, he presses the needle-sharp tip of the blade to the fleshy spot beneath your thumb.  He starts off lightly but quickly begins applying increased pressure.  You shut your eyes tightly and grit your teeth as the blade bites into your skin, only to open them again moments later as you scream when the blade pierces your flesh.  The warm welling of blood beneath the blade is barely a balm on the agony and nausea roils in your stomach as blood, hot and sticky, begins to trickle from your hand.  You can hear the soft sound of the droplets hitting the floor even over your screaming and your tears are flowing unchecked now.

“Please,” you reiterate hoarsely when you can’t scream anymore.

“I’m coming with you,” Leonard says firmly as Jim assembles a security team on the transporter deck, his tone leaving little room for argument.

Jim nods.

“I wasn’t planning on stopping you,” he says grimly.  “Y/N is going to need you one way or another.”

Leonard feels sick to his stomach at the thought of just how badly you might need him and his skills.

“Let’s go get her,” he says, stepping onto the transporter pad.

As Dr. McCoy takes his place among the others, med kit slung over his shoulder, the captain looks over at Scotty, phaser held tightly at the ready.

“Engerize,” he orders.

You jump, startled, as you hear a klaxon sound overhead.  Your tormentor’s attention is diverted away from where he’s been busy making yet another incision, adding it to the half dozen or so that you’re already sporting. You sag back against the table, grateful for the respite and too exhausted to be concerned over what’s happening elsewhere in the ship.  

You hear frantic movement beside the platform where you’re lying and the Suliban who has been interrogating you drops your hand.  Suddenly, he’s speaking into the comm unit on the wall, exchanging words with another of his crew in a language you don’t understand.  You hear his footsteps approaching again a few moments later, however, and your eyes snap open just in time to see him leaning in over you with something not unlike a hypospray in his hand.

You can hear shouts just outside of the room you’re in as he poises the device against your neck and you barely even feel the sting as he discharges the hypo into your neck, injecting you with some sort of a liquid that burns like fire as it goes in.  As he steps back, spinning on his heel to face off with someone who has just entered the room, the liquid begins to spread, scorching you from the inside out, making you feel like your very blood vessels are on fire.  A sweat is breaking out across your forehead as the drug circulates, and it’s so disconcerting that your surroundings are lost to you completely.  Even the din of phaser fire all around you does nothing to get your attention.

You hear a voice as you lie there, feeling the fire rage in your body, losing every remaining ounce of strength you have the longer you’re exposed to what you’re sure must be some sort of a poison.

“In here, Bones!”

The voice sounds far away and garbled as it carries on.  You can’t make much of what else it’s saying, but your mind cottons on to a word; one crucial, critical word.

Bones.

You hear footfalls approach your bedside and a hand lands on your cheek – blissfully cool against your wildly fevered skin.

“Leonard,” you croak, your eyes fluttering, your gaze unseeing.

“I’m here, darlin’,” he says as he stands over you.  “I’m right here, you’re safe.”

You groan and arch your back against the onslaught of burning, feeling the hand on your cheek slip away.  You turn your head in search of it but feel hands at your wrist instead, tugging at the shackles that bind you.  There are hands at your other wrist, too, pulling at the restraint there as well.

“I’ll try and disable these,” a voice – the captain’s, you realize – says.  “You take care of Y/N.”

The hand is back at your cheek a second later.

“Lie still, sugar, I’ve got you,” Leonard murmurs reassuringly, though his tone is thick with his own emotions which are just barely being held in check at the sight of you so badly injured.

A tricorder whirrs over you and as he reads the information it’s giving him, Leonard can’t stifle a curse.

“What’s wrong?”  Jim’s voice asks from somewhere nearby.

“Her vitals are all over the place,” Leonard replies.  “Her body temperature is off the charts.  I need to get her back to the Enterprise.”

“He gave me something,” you rasp.  “In a hypo.”

Leonard’s hand is gone again as he reaches for his kit, pulling out a holoscanner.  He holds it over your chest, inspecting the image there closely.  With your eyes closed you don’t see his expression, but you can almost feel the change in the energy around him as he takes in your scans.

“Damn it,” he growls.  “How long, Jim?”

“I don’t know,” Jim replies.  “I need Scotty.”

Leonard curses and sets the scanner down in favor of his PADD.  He searches frantically through Starfleet’s medical database for evidence of the compound the scanner has found in your blood but nothing comes up.  He needs to treat you, but he’s afraid to mix whatever is in your blood stream with any of the medications in his arsenal.  Any sort of a reaction between his drugs and the one in your body could be fatal.

“Len,” you whisper, trying to get his attention as you feel the heat being replaced with an icy cold from the inside out; you can feel yourself dying.  “Len, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Leonard murmurs. “But you’ve got to hush right now; save your strength.”

You shake your head, forcing your eyes open against the overwhelming draw of death.  Breathing shakily, you splay your fingers, wordlessly begging Leonard to take your hand.  It takes him a moment to notice and realize what you’re looking for, but as soon as he does, he’s clasping your hand between his palms and leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” you say hoarsely.  “I wanted so much more time with you.”

“Shh,” Leonard says.  “Don’t you be checking out on me just yet, darlin’.  We’re going to have plenty of time.”

You can hear the undercurrent of doubt in his voice, the tremor of fear and helplessness underlying his tone. You shake your head again.

“Goodbye, Leonard,” you mumble.  “I love you.”

Your last few words are slurred as you give up the fight, giving in to the darkness pressing at you from every side, relinquishing your hold on consciousness.  All you feel at the crux, the last moment of your life, is a blanket of peace settling over you and a welcome reprieve from the pain.  

The sensation of Leonard’s fingers pressing at your pulse point, feeling frantically for a heartbeat that’s fluttering one moment and absent the next, is lost on you.  His cry of anger, of denial and despair, is lost on you as you slip away, and he’s left at your bedside, a shell of himself.  You’ve taken a piece of him with you, a piece he’ll never be able to patch back together.  You were the first true love of his life, and the only one he was forced to let go of without a fight.

Your loss has hit the entire crew hard, but none so much as Leonard.  For days after, he is a ghost.  Sightings of him are fleeting, and he’s so pale and drawn that Jim considers having him admitted to the med bay for monitoring on Dr. M’Benga’s recommendation. Even for someone so well acquainted with loss, he’s taking it hard.  His familiarity with death makes his despair all the more poignant, though, and his loss amplifies the sorrow the rest of the crew all feel.

As Leonard lies awake another night, staring at the ceiling, he realizes that while a heartbeat is required for life, it is far from the only thing necessary for one to truly live.

@starshiphufflebadger @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @feelmyroarrrr @ababyinatrenchcoat @the-alpha-otter @alluramc @medicatemedrmccoy @arrowsshootyouforwards @wonders-of-the-multiverse @answer-the-sirens @devanshade @dolamrothianlady @startrekimagines @theonlyparadox @itsjaynebird @mccoymostly @goodnightwife @thevalesofanduin @distinguishedqueenofbooks @elsa-lost-in-translation @yourtropegirl @gryffindor9whovian @auduna-druitt @archangels-lollipop @bookcaseninja @supermoonpanda @bubblegum-star-trek @sergeantangel @pinkamour1588 @webhoard @the-space-goddess-16 @bkwrm523 @starmission @captain-amelia-bradley @startled-seastar @sassmasterqueen @shewolf-2013 @littlecarowrites @enterprisefeels @eyeofdionysus @nasanatmfers @galaxycharmed @emmkolenn @captainsili @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @xanaphorax @kirkaholic123 @fleurlaura @ambie2020

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[womenofcolor15]

‘Love is Blind’ Star Lauren Speed Wants Brown Girls To Know THIS About Finding Your Soul Mate (Exclusive)

TheYBF.com caught up with “Love Is Blind” stars Lauren Speed and Cameron Hamilton and - after binging this mostly foolywang material of a show - we love them even more. Find out the message Lauren has for brown girls about finding their soul mate and more inside…

SPOILER ALERT! If you haven’t watched “Love Is Blind” yet, this post contains spoilers.

Is Love really Blind? Ask Mrs. Hamilton!

Lauren Speed and Cameron Hamilton (above, spreading their love all over NYC while doing press) quickly became fan favorites on everyone’s newest Netflix obsession, “Love Is Blind.” And y'all, we had to suffer through A LOT of foolishness from their castmates to watch their love story blossom. Still recovering from Jessica and Amber and everyone in between.

The series picked a group of men and women, put them in a house and let them go on “blind dates” to see if anyone could find true love based on an emotional connection. That’s right, they couldn’t see each other while “dating.” They would go into these cozy pods and build connections with one another by conversing through a wall. They never saw each other. Before the time was up, they had to decide if they wanted to get engaged with someone they connected with and then they would walk down the aisle weeks later to say, “I Do.”

We were on hand to watch the Weddings (the final episodes) with the cast in Atlanta, so we got to ask the pressing questions we needed to know after damn near throwing our wine and phone at the TV every other episode.

Yup, The Hamiltons (adorbs!) are still living happily ever after.  And thank God at least one couple made sense on this show.

While most of the couples didn’t last, there were two couples who actually tied the knot: Lauren Speed married Cameron Hamilton and Amber Pike married Matt Barnett (that last couple was and still is a DOOZY).

We can't lie, we were shocked to see Sex & Sephora Amber & Barnett tie the knot and still be together chile.

During the show, Lauren shared how Cameron was the first white man she had ever been with. Meanwhile, Cameron shared he was in a serious relationship for years with a black woman before Lauren, so he was well aware of the struggles an interracial couple would face.

On the show, Lauren said she wanted to be as authentic as possible – even down to her wearing her bonnet in the bed with him at night – because she really wanted to see if this “experiment” would work.

Well, it did for her (also because she's a WHOLE catch, and so is he). And now she’s dropping gems, specifically to brown girls like her, about finding your soul mate.

YBF correspondent Erena caught up with Mr. & Mrs. Hamilton during the series finale screening in Atlanta and here’s what she told us:

Take notes ladies.

        View this post on Instagram

                  Right before this experience, I was just at the point where I had given up on the fairytale. Feeling like we sell little girls these dreams of a Prince Charming that doesn’t really exist. Clearly God had the last laugh. I was open minded entering this experience honestly never expecting to fall in love and become the happiest I’ve ever been all while being recorded for the world to see. When I said Cameron looked like a Prince I meant it... he to me embodied everything I had dreamed of in my fairytale... Kind, smart, loving, selfless, brave could make me laugh and cry all in one conversation... but most importantly made me feel valued and loved. Of course like anything in life we are humans and not without struggle. But as you mature you learn that the struggles are what strengthen you and help you realize what needs more care. Im excited to continue this next chapter with you Mr. Hamilton. Us against the world. Bonnie and Clyde (minus the shoot up) #LoveIsBlind currently streaming on @Netflix @lajoyphotographyllc

A post shared by Lauren Speed (@need4lspeed) on Mar 2, 2020 at 3:30pm PST

  By the way, the Hamiltons have a YouTube Page coming down the pipeline soon:

        View this post on Instagram

                  Ummmm so we did a thing! @cameronreidhamilton and @need4lspeed got with me to take some amazing photos for their brand new YouTube Page! Yes you heard me right! They have a new YouTube page all about them! Subscribe to their new page and my page for updated videos and photos! Full video link in bio! . . Link in bio for the full video! . . . Photo: @lajoyphotographyllc Video: @iamteko Graphics: @thechloebrand . . . #lajoyphotography #loveisblind #loveisblindnetflix #laurenandcameron #atlphotographer #lifestylephotographer #lifestylephotoshoot #atlentrepreneurs #youtubers #girlceo #photography #netflix #weddingphotography #weddinginspiration #americascouple #laurenandcameron

A post shared by LAJOY COX | Photographer (@lajoyphotographyllc) on Mar 2, 2020 at 1:01pm PST

  "Love Is Blind" star Carlton Morton was also in the mix. He became a breakout star of the show after he waited until AFTER he proposed to Diamond to tell her he was a bisexual man. The timing was extrmeely off and his excuses about why he waited to tell the woman he claimed to wanted to spend his life with were, to put it mildly, trash. THEN, he had the audacity to demean and degrade her as she was explaining to him why she was upset that he waited to reveal something that's a huge part of who he is and being her potential partner. Needless to say, she dipped on his a** - while quoting Beyonce's "Don't Hurt Yourself" - and never looked back.

Now, he claims he's no longer doing press because no one has been supporting him:

        View this post on Instagram

                  Thanks for the 3 of y’all who supported me in this. I feel alone and don’t want any of this life anymore. I’m fighting ALONE. And it HURTS.

A post shared by Carlton Morton (@carltonmorton) on Mar 3, 2020 at 1:55pm PST

  Hmph.

During the screening, TheYBF.com also spoke with married couple Amber & Barnett and how they felt right before the wedding - especially when Amber thought Barnett didn't want to marry her. Formerly engaged couple Damian Powers & Giannina Gibelli (he called it off at the alter!) were also in attendance and they shared how they're moving forward.

Peep all the clips below:

The Internet is ALL IN for the show and has been reacting to scenes from the episodes on social media.  And by reacting, we mean gagging.  Below are some reactions: 

  when Cameron looked in Lauren's eyes and said "I promise i will take care of you baby" #LoveIsBlind pic.twitter.com/RO5gxb4sRD

— Bimbzy Jay (@ladybimbzey) February 28, 2020

Lauren swearing and then apologising to the pastor #LoveIsBlind pic.twitter.com/jZQdCg6fZd

— alot of people will be scared (@its_minnie3) February 28, 2020

Just finished the love is blind finale. Thanks Cameron and Lauren for carrying THEE season on your necks #loveisblind pic.twitter.com/zwjEhQIFuN

— zamzam (@itszamzam_) February 28, 2020

When Giannina comes back from running away and stares at Damian. #LoveIsBlind #loveisblindnetflix #loveisblindfinale pic.twitter.com/CgYpSnM2Ww

— BECK - Queen of Tron (@I_Dream_Data) February 28, 2020

Me watching all the couples break up, but Lauren and Cameron staying together #LoveIsBlind pic.twitter.com/5QedMwuNQ6

— Mara (@marasantanaaa) February 28, 2020

When Cameron told Lauren “I promise I’m going to take care of you baby” #LoveIsBlind pic.twitter.com/bBtZiOgR7u

— mamba forever (@dioruadore) February 28, 2020

Mark’s mom when Jessica was coming down the aisle #loveisblindfinale #LoveIsBlind pic.twitter.com/1Vhtsnw2P5

— Laige Pindsey (@iironicaa) February 28, 2020

Me watching the wedding episode of #loveisblind after all the other times I’ve been shooketh in the past hour. #laurenandcameron I ship them so hard I can’t pic.twitter.com/aNXpPm2bb4

— jbrooksie27 (@jbrooksie271) February 28, 2020

Ok this what I be waiting on #laurenandcameron pic.twitter.com/tiFoGiXUFq

— Whitty (@WhitneyLeola) February 28, 2020

Me yesterday: I'd never be the white man's whore!

Me today: *watching #laurenandcameron getting married*#loveisblindnetflix #LoveIsBlind pic.twitter.com/IAnXroTsOv

— Wakanda fresh h*ll is this? (@DaWakandaTarget) February 27, 2020

Lauren and Cameron’s wedding is out.... I’m ready to cry on the tube #LoveIsBlind #laurenandcameron pic.twitter.com/tX5h2wu4Mw

— spam account (@GRAYVSGREY) February 27, 2020

Cameron and Lauren watching their Instagram followers go up and people asking for a spin off. Awww yeah #LoveIsBlind #loveisblindnetflix #laurenandcameron pic.twitter.com/UqNpPTsRMa

— LBoogie (@lplockkk) February 27, 2020

PUT ON YOUR GOWNS, SLIPPERS, PEARLS, JAMMIES, TUXEDOS OR WHATEVER AND HEAD TO THE LIVING ROOM. The ceremonies BEGIN IN 50 MINUTES!!! #LaurenAndCameron #LoveIsBlindNetfix pic.twitter.com/g7lyq6QJAB

— Kels (@zaynlove2016) February 27, 2020

Me talking to everyone about #LoveIsBlind even though they don’t watch the show pic.twitter.com/WQH5ReWlXm

— J. (@j_goic) February 22, 2020

Me trying to figure out who are these other people on the Cameron and Lauren show?? #LoveIsBlind #netflix pic.twitter.com/oy52BSbpiL

— Jasmyn Alexis (@itsjasmynalexis) February 20, 2020

Fast forwarding through everyone else on #loveisblind so I can just watch Lauren and Cameron! The best connection on any TV dating show I’ve seen in awhile!!! #LoveIsBlind #LoveIsBlindNetflix #Netflix #LaurenandCameron pic.twitter.com/JLN7KSYbbn

— Housewife Hoe (@brav_hoequeen) February 17, 2020

me, before watching love is blind: i want a black ass husband black ass kids black ass family me, after watching #loveisblind: pic.twitter.com/FF4czO1kNI

— jess (@tv_jessica_) February 22, 2020

me welcoming people as they slowly trickle into the Love is Blind fandom pic.twitter.com/OMq9yWoC7G

— Nick Morrow (@NRMorrow) February 25, 2020

When Cameron tells Lauren he’s gonna take care of her #LoveIsBlind pic.twitter.com/0dLlHRluyi

— Knock off Meg the Stallion  (@moniemeetsworld) February 28, 2020

The "Love Is Blind" reunion begins streaming on Netflix this Thursday, March 5th. Catch the spicy sneak peek below: 

  *Pours wine in preparation*

Photos: Splash/Getty Images for Netflix

[Read More ...] source http://theybf.com/2020/03/03/%E2%80%98love-is-blind%E2%80%99-star-lauren-speed-wants-brown-girls-to-know-this-about-finding-your-soul-

[7fics]

Markson friendship jackjae Romance. Jackson doesn't really know YJ but he knows he's kinda weird but still kinda cute and he sits next to Jackson in science so Jackson texts Mark and says "the Youngjae kid is cute tbh" and Mark being a dick takes a screenshot of their messages and sends it to Youngjae, who is still sitting next to Jackson.

Warnings: mark pov lol

Word Count: 2.5k ish

Author: Chewy’s back! and graduating high school oh my god

managed to sneak some markbum in there lol whoops hope ya enjojojoiiiii

grades: JB: senior Jinyoung: senior (skipped a grade) Jackson: junior Mark: junior (redoing a grade) Youngjae: sophomore Yugyeom/bambam: freshmen

“Bro, you hype? First day of school jitters? Whatchu gonna eat for breakfast?”

“Shut the fuck up, Jackson, why are you calling me at 6 in the morning,” Mark groans. It’s too early for this shit. It’s always too early for Jackson’s shit, but “That’s just the impact of the Wang” or so “the Wang” says.

“It’s the first day of school! You should be up and getting ready, don’t you want to start off the school year refreshed and excited?” Mark can practically hear Jackson jumping up and down through the phone. Oh, wait, is that the sound of springs squeaking? Then never mind, Mark can legitimately hear Jackson jumping up and down.

“More like dead tired. School doesn’t start until nine.”

“Whatever. Have you looked at your schedule yet? Did you see what classes you had? Do we share any classes?” Jackson’s talking non-stop, and from the sound of it he’s also trying to chew his breakfast at the same time. Mark’s not really into that ASMR shit.

“I already sent you a screenshot last night, keep up,” he responds, groaning as he finally crawls out of bed. With Jackson this hyped up, he knows there’s no chance of falling back asleep so he might as well get ready. “We have a few classes together, I think. Check again?”

“Oh, right!” there’s a pause as Jackson scrambles to his laptop, and Mark thanks the gods above for the short moment of blessed silence. “We have the same lunch period! And Humanities and Numbers for Nerds, thank goodness. You’re going to need to tutor me again.”

“No.” Not until you stop calling “math” “Numbers for Nerds,” Mark thinks. It’s too early to voice opinions, though, so he keeps that to himself.

“And Euro, yass, this is nearly fully booked Markson, get pumped! But wait, aw man, no science together. Why would you ever take Physics? And it’s first in the morning, too!” Jackson continues.

“God bless,” Mark’s not sure if he would have been able to handle Jackson so early every morning. Especially not after the copper incident last year. “Now I’m hanging up, gotta shower. See you at school.”

“Bye~~~ Markie pooh,” Jackson calls, but by then, Mark’s already ended the call.

—

“Jaebum, please,” Mark says the minute he enters the Physics classroom that morning. “Save me.”

“Babe, what’s wrong? It’s only the first day of school,” Jaebum grumbles, barely lifting his head from his desk to greet Mark.

“Exactly. However,” Mark says, handing his phone over to Jaebum. “Some asshole thinks that I should care about his choice in sock color today.” There are somewhere around, oh, just about hundreds of new text messages, voicemails and snapchats from Jackson, updating Mark on the every second of his first day of school prep. And that’s just the preparation; the school day hasn’t even started damn it.

“Aw, yikes. I got a picture of a flowchart of first day of school possibilities from Jinyoung last night. And then earlier this morning he sent me a selfie of himself setting the same flowchart on fire, so I’m not sure what that means.”

“Seriously? It’s only the first day of school why is he stressing like it’s finals week again,” Mark groans as he lays his head on the desk. Jaebum only pats him on the back and gives a shrug in response, and Mark is eternally grateful. He decides that now is a great moment (and the only moment) to enjoy a bit of peace and quiet before the madness called “High School” and “Being Wang Jackson’s One and Only BFFL For Life” (“Jackson you repeated for life” “Shhhh”) begins.

Moments later, the beautiful calm is shattered by the sound of Kara blasting through the air. “The fuck Jackson, we’re in class,” Mark says, opting to hit decline. Jackson apparently doesn’t get the message, however, and Mark’s phone spends the rest of class buzzing violently in his backpack.

Mark of course dutifully ignores everything. (At one point, a girl in front of him freaks out because she’s sure there’s a swarm of bees in the classroom. It’s just Jackson, though.)

—

“Hey.” Mark takes his lunch tray, which is literally piled to the sky with only french fries, and slides into the bench between Jackson and Jaebum. He looks down the table and nods at the kid at the end of the table. “‘Sup?” They’re not friends, but the kid sells some fine “herbs” if you know what I’m saying. Imported. From Thailand.

Mark doesn’t drink coffee. He drinks tea. And he’s ready to beat anyone (meaning Jinyoung) who mocks him for it. It’s not like he fucking reads books like some nerds (meaning Jinyoung).

“Hey, Mork, what’s up?”

“Can you not.”

“Nope! Those are a lot of fries buddy, I’m really kind of worried about your health, you know?” Jackson says, reaching over to grab a handful.

“I hope you choke.”

Jackson doesn’t choke, but he does snort and get some caught in his nostril. While Jackson is whining and screaming for help, Mark turns to Jaebum, “Hey.”

“Hey babe,” Jaebum responds. He also takes a french fry, but actually manages to look pretty sexy eating it, so Mark will opt to forgive him this one time.

“Do you think you can get senioritis when you’re a Junior?” Mark asks, shoving the plate of fries to the side so that he can lay his head on the table. And then push the fries directly into his mouth without actually lifting anything.

“Dude. It’s been three days since we got back from summer break,” Jaebum gives him a look, although really, he has no right to judge.

“I didn’t do any of my summer Humanities assignments, so I already have a zero.” Ok, so maybe Jaebum does have some right to judge. But only a little.

“Holy fuck YOU GUYS!” Jackson screams, and then immediately makes a shushing noise, “Shhh! I can’t let him notice me!”

“Jackson. You are the loudest one in this group right now.”

“Ah, sorry, I forgot. But look!” Jackson whisper shouts, vaguely gesturing toward some corner of the cafeteria. “Look at that!”

Mark squints, but isn’t really sure what Jackson’s freaking out over. He doesn’t see any signs for free pizza, or anything remotely worth getting hyped up over.

“That kid! Over there!” Jackson’s voice is steadily rising, but they’re in the middle of a public school cafeteria so Mark decides to not give any fucks for now. “The one that looks absolutely beautiful and basically is probably the Sun on the Teletubbies but all grown up! He’s in my Bio class and I swear you guys, I am in love.”

“Oh hey, that’s Youngjae,” Jaebum remarks.

Hmmm, Youngjae. Mark’s sure he’s heard that name somewhere.

“Remember? He’s the really loud tenor in my choir class. Tried to bring his dog to school last year.”

“Oh yeah. Coco. He’s my neighbor.”

“You know him?” Jackson gasps. He crawls over Mark and grabs Jaebum by the collars. “Please. Tell me more. I must know.”

And so the rest of lunch continues just like any other day, with Mark trying to ignore Jackson and continue eating french fries. It’s a hard task, but nothing that Mark can’t handle.

—

Another week of dozing through classes has passed in a blissful blur, and Mark settles into Physics, pulling out his notebook. He’s just trying to decide whether he should use the book as a pillow or what it’s actually meant for when his phone goes berserk again.

from: wangster

holy sheet mark

do u remember that incredibly cute ball of sunshine underclassman I was talking about

the one that probably farts pixie dust

and is CuTE as bALLS???

YOUNGJAEEEEE god kill me now even his name is lovely

he just got assigned to the same lab group as me

ME

the fuq is this, a fucking rom com??? i M SO READY to NOT embarrass myself infant of this kid

**in front ha fuck u 2 autocorrect

“What is that?” Jinyoung asks, peering over Marks shoulder.

“It’s just Jackson, talking about his new crush. I’m just gonna ignore it,” Mark concludes, setting it on vibrate and then tossing it to the corner of his desk.

“He just texted you again,” Jinyoung says, picking up the phone. “What does he mean by ‘THE THING’?”

“Shit, give me that,” Mark says, suddenly alert and scrambling for the phone.

from: wangster

do you think he’d think i was cool if i did THE THING again?

Mark furiously types.

from: mark

NO!

DO NOT. DRINK. THE COPPER. SOLUTION.

It takes a minute for the reply to come back.

from: wangster

aw cmon man, it wasn’t that bad

and don pretend like u didn’t take a taste too, i’m not the only criminal here

anyway i wasn’t talking about that

like

what if i “accidentally” spilled a chemical on my hot bod

and then i have to rip off my shirt and show off my sexy abs ;)

Mark groans and lays his head upon the desk. “Help. I think I have a migraine coming on.”

“What’s wrong?” Jaebum asks, sliding into his seat with 34 seconds to spare. Mark just holds up his phone in response. Jaebum sighs and formulates a response in Mark’s stead.

from: mark

your abs won’t be sexy anymore with a god damn acid burn on them. don’t do that shit. —JB

Before Jaebum can hand the phone back to Mark, Jinyoung snags it out of his hands. “Oh boy,” he giggles. “This is gold. Do you mind if I screenshot this and airdrop it to myself? Just for when I’m sad, I promise.”

“Go ahead,” Mark waves him on. At this point, he doesn’t think Jackson has any dignity left to muster up. “Just don’t accidentally send it to Youngjae or anything.”

There is a beat of silence, as three pairs of eyes meet. Then they all break, chuckling to themselves. Mark wheezes a little. “Nah, I wouldn’t. I’m not that kind of friend.”

There’s another moment of silence, as Jinyoung takes one long look at the messages, and then back up at Mark, then Jaebum, then back at Mark. “Aren’t you?”

“I mean, we’re best friends, come on,” Mark says. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly sweating in this freezing air conditioned classroom. “Right. Best friends. Who forgive each other no matter what,” Jaebum muses, half to himself. They meet eyes, and then break. Nervous laughter fills the air around them.

“Nah, nah, nah. We’re cool,” Mark says, taking back the phone and going to delete the screenshots. But, Jinyoung is right. This is kind of gold. “Maybe I’ll just start a message to Youngjae, but not actually send it, just to freak Jackson out.”

“Oh yeah!” Jinyoung agrees, aggressively nodding. “Take a screenshot of you you pretending to send those to Youngjae. Jackson would die. And it’s good revenge for him stealing my last twizzler.”

“Alright, I’m doing it,” Mark says. They’re all three cackling at the message, Mark’s hand hovering over the phone, when the teacher walks in and slams the door shut. Hard.

All three students jump in their chairs simultaneously. “Put you phone away!” he demands, and Mark sheepishly pulls his phone off his desk, but not before seeing what’s on the screen.

“Oh shit,” he looks up at Jaebum, wide-eyed.

“You hit send, didn’t you?”

—

Three hours later, Mark finds himself on the floor of the cafeteria, groveling at Jackson’s feet. “It was an accident, I swear, you know I would never do that to you. I would never even think of doing that to you!”

“How. The fuck. Do you accidentally send screenshots of my text messages to the guy who just happens to be the subject of my messages?” Jackson asks. His eyebrows are halfway up his face at this point.

“Ok, fine,” Mark concedes, “Maybe I did think of doing that to you. But I swear I only thought! I never actually meant to hit send. Tell him, Jinyoung!”

Jackson’s menacing eyebrows swivel to face Jinyoung, who currently has his nose buried in a book, with only his ears peeking out. No matter how much of a bookworm everybody says he is, no books are that interesting. “Well?” Jackson asks, leg shaking the table.

“Uhh… It was Mark’s idea!” then he slams his book shut and bolts.

Mark gasps, “That bastard.”

Jackson grabs at Mark’s collar, and as Mark flails, he looks over to Jaebum in an attempt at one last plea for help. Jaebum just raises his eyebrows, and scoots his tray further away down the table.

Just as Mark resigns himself to his fate, he is saved by the bell. More specifically, his text alert, which is actually a four second clip of a recording of Jackson screaming for five minutes straight. Everybody in the whole cafeteria looks over at them, including Youngjae (an important detail for Jackson) and the security guards and other adult staff (an important detail for Mark). “Dude get off of me before we get in trouble,” Mark whispers. Jackson only complies because Youngjae is looking and he can bet 99.999% that Youngjae probably hates violence and sings about flowers growing as a past time.

“Ugh, whatever, I’m still mad. You better buy me chocolate milk for the rest of the school year.”

“What are you, Kim Yugyeom?” Mark scoffs, but knows that he probably will, even if only for a few weeks instead of the whole school year. Anything to get his friend back. Even so, he slaps Jackson’s hands away as they drift toward his tray of fries. While battling Jackson over his lunch with his left hand, Mark unlocks his phone with his left (unnecessary AN: this was supposed to say right, but I was totally zoned out when typing this, and, my dudes, it is so wicked funny to imagine Mark with two left hands). “Oh my god, Jackson!”

“What now?” Jackson grumbles, slipping through Mark’s defenses and filching a fry or two or three or twelve.

“Jackson, look,” Mark gasps breathlessly, handing his phone over to Jackson.

“Holy fuck.”

Right there, on the screen (surrounded by way too many emojis and stickers) are the following words:

from: c youngjae

aww, can you tell jackson hyung thank you for the compliments

and also that i don’t want him hurting himself!! i’m sure he looks better shirtless on the basketball courts than in a science lab *winky face blushing emoji*

oh! also mark hyung, my family is going out of town for labor day, can you watch coco? thanks!

Mark grins, looking up at Jackson’s shining face. “Am I the best wingman ever or what?”

“Yes!” Jackson shouts, drawing looks once again. “But you still owe me chocolate milk for the stress that you put me through for this past hour.”

“Yo, lunch period isn’t even an hour long.”

#got7 #character:jackson #character:mark #genre:humor #genre:fluff #author:chewy #jackjae #character:youngjae

[rewriitethestory-a]

thoughts on the episode (less opinions and more initial reactions)

yay for izzy telling jace about yin fen

simon talking about his grandmother damn

izzy and max bonding is making me so happy but i know it’s going to end up breaking my heart

what is that rune alert on their phones, is that seriously how they found out about new bodies?

gps chips wtf (alec call the clave out on this bullshit)

also well done to maya and luke for standing up to this gps crap

dot i am questioning your choice in men with mark twain (seriously google him, he has stupid hair)

maya tell it like it is

downworlders were hunted for sport wtf, i thought my oc flo’s bio was too extreme for shadowhunters but maybe not

magnus dancing what a delight

if max is about to die i will kill someone i am not mentally prepared for this

izzy, raphael and meliorn working together? this’ll be interesting

fuck max is gone i am not ready

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

phew everything is okay

oh damn kaelie’s dead the seelies probs aren’t going to take that too well

yay for alec i’m so happy for him

ooo clary and maia bonding i am here for this (even if it was barely anything)

damn alberto your voice

aw clary knows the lyrics to his song, what a good friend

alec: i have your first mission for you, remove the chip from maia

jace: make out with maia got it

malec make up, i love it as much as they love each other

‘prove it’ seriously maya? that never leads to anything but making out

#virgin who can't drive { ooc } #shadowhunters spoilers #tw swearing #long post #sorry for anyone on mobile

[ginnyzero]

Killjoys Season 3 reaction

I promise to try not to turn this into a rant about the state of science fiction media... try. (Might not succeed.)

Last year about this time, I wrote about how I might not be able to make it through Killjoys Season 3. Last season really pushed a bunch of my writer big red buttons of do not want and I was seeing the writing on the screen. As in, this is not going well, red alert, red alert, Danger Will Robinson!

I hate being right.

I won't be watching season 4 or 5 of Killjoys  (yes, they've green lit 20 more episodes of this show, and if you like it well, that's great. If you're me, you're in a corner whimpering. Why? TV Overlords, WHY?) I really, really wanted to love this show. It has a female creator, there are some female producers, there are females in the writing room and the main lead of three is, well, female! (Though the male to female cast is still rather disproportionate.)

The end of season 2 left us with a pretty big mess for season 3. The team was split. Dutch was being selfish. We'd lost a great female secondary character they'd taken 2 whole seasons to develop in order to have a male character feel pain. D'avin was the biggest gary stu of all time. And the show had taken a sharp left turn from campy, fun, new and into boring old cliche sci fi story territory.

Season 3 did not get any better.

I was thinking about this while curled in bed trying to convince myself to get up and realized why Season 3 was so jarring. This show had about 7 episodes of world building on their primary pitch of "Bounty Hunters in SPACE" before they took their sharp left turn into "humans versus alien parasite SLIME GOO." And it simply wasn't enough. See, the great thing about the concept of "Bounty Hunters in SPACE" is that you can spend as much damn time creating fun mini stories that explore your universe and it's VASTNESS, sprinkling little bits of information for a couple seasons about the "wrongness" in what is going on to take a couple seasons at the end to fight your parasitic alien goo. (which would have been great fridge horror to offset the campiness and created all sorts of meta and fun fandom discussion and theories!) And this show needed the world building. (They even lampshade this in episode 1 of season 3, "remember when we used to... yeah... that was fun." Yeah, the show was fun back then wasn't it.)

BECAUSE... Season 3 has the team split and "war is coming" and suddenly we are slapped in the face with the fact that the Quad is just one of many systems. That there are thousands of these alien goo pools and hundreds of RAC Ships (the bounty hunter HQ) and that there may be a purpose to these hack mods people (Only introduced in Season 2, used for less than half a season 3) and there are some nasty people called "skinners" who also use the green alien goo without realizing what it is. (And yes, it's as nasty as it sounds.) And I'm sitting here going, "Wait, wait, what? WHERE was ALL THIS during YOUR WORLD BUILDING EPISODES? NO. NO. COME BACK HERE. I WANT MORE OF THIS!!!!" The skinners would have been a GREAT way to introduce the green goo. Very, very fridge horror.

By the way, Season 3 spends over 2/3 of it dealing with internal politics and expounding on the Hullen focusing mostly on Aneelah. Aneelah and Dutch are not who they think they are. (DNA also doesn't work that way folks.) Not that we get too much about the Hullen, other than Aneelah is crazy and they're pretty arrogant. Oh, and new villain, the LADY who lives in the Green. (There is a reason why I'm not a fan of the television favorite of the "big bad" method of storytelling.) They set up Aneelah in Season 2 to be this big bad character that Dutch, D'avin and Johnny were going to have to overcome and destroy to destroy the Hullen. Except, problem, she only commands a tiny bit of the Hullen. Oh dear, bigger problem, she's more of a prisoner than a commander. Major problem, they tried to make her sympathetic by making her crazy and the whole of next season I think we're supposed to support her as a "good guy" as she helps Dutch fight "the Lady."

And if you're going, "huh and what?" to the previous paragraph. Then you are right there with me. (I mean, this typical Killjoys though, they spent season 2 turning Kylen from bad villain to good guy.) We spend 7 to 8 episodes of season 3 on internal politics between the RAC members, recruiting Pree's warlord ex-lover (yes, the homosexuality was strong this season), watching Delle Seyah play Aneelah like a harp, D'avin exhibiting his continued gary stu qualities with control over the green and a new story arc that never went anywhere (what else is D'avin forgetting show runners, oh wait, you're forgetting,) new nerd characters being nerdy (oh Hullen technology is more biological than machinery but Johnny is about machinery. Damn it, they had to bring in 2 new characters, one for the bio-techy stuff and one to replace Johnny's charm, then in the last episode pair them off for the wonderful 'pair the spares' sundae special) for the pay off of two episodes of "war" where our main characters are sitting out of the fight for the most part and for Aneelah to well, essentially change sides.

Look, if there had been 50 episodes of popcorn munching buttery goodness world building with BOUNTY HUNTERS IN SPACE before all of this, I wouldn't be so snarky. But here we are at 30 episodes out of 50 and I'm going "this is feeling a bit rushed darlings and everything is suffering for it."

What's suffering the most is Dutch's character. Writing wise, Dutch is the most inconsistently written character in the show. She's the Pinkie Pie of Killjoys. Dutch's problem is still they're trying to make her too many things at once. D'Avin and Johnny are stereotypes and relatively easy to write. Johnny is in fact the most consistently written and possibly most well rounded character on the show. Dutch is well, I'm not sure what Dutch is. I have what I think she's supposed to be, but because they left out an essential "Johnny and Dutch do their first Killjoy mission" episode, I'm not really sure.

You see, Dutch is a gender flipped action hero type. Disregard her back story, (which is cliche and sexist and all around not good) and her role in the story is to be the action hero lead big tank lead of the "trio." (Which imo, should have stayed a duo because D'avin is unnecessary.) Male action heroes tend to be brusque, stoic and at times flippant. They were going for big and tough and then went "Damn it, she's a girl, we have to make her girly too." And that, unfortunately, breaks most writers minds because a "girly action hero" is not a stereotype they are familiar with and is found more in Japanese media than American media.

So, Dutch flip flops between being extremely competent to making rookie mistakes to be a temporary damsel, doing the femme fatale nonsense, being the big sister, to being a selfish "I don't give a shit about everyone else," to being the self sacrificing hero all in the space of 2 or 3 episodes. It gives me serious whiplash. (Her and D'avin's rookie mistakes make me grind my teeth, they are both level 5s. They KNOW BETTER and they are still doing it. No. It's not interesting. It does not make for good drama or conflict. It's frustrating.)

I think they I know what they were trying to go for, a big sisterly type of warrior. She's experienced, competent and will make sure that the newbies make it out the other side of the battle intact, even if that means she gets hurt or almost dies to do it. Throw in some PTSD and call it a day. But instead, they tried to add a heaping spoonful of sex (because no one is going to watch a female action hero if she isn't sexy, am I right?) and keep her "professional" meaning brusque and eye on the prize at the same time. And it's not working. There is complex and then there is "trying to be everything all at once." Which isn't necessary because they have Delle Seyah to be the vamp. They had Pawter to be Delle Seyah's foil in political maneuvering. They added this newbie nerd female character who was a bit naive and innocent and could be the damsel in distress in a pinch. They had Hullen characters and the Hack Mod girl to be brusque and stoic. (Let's not talk about what they did to the hack mod girl. I'm grinding my teeth here.)

It doesn't help that we barely know anything about Dutch outside of bounty hunter and fighting work. What does this girl do to destress other than have sex with men? I mean it? Does she rock climb? Maybe she bungee jump dances or does aerial silks? Does she like calligraphy? Meditation? (Is now so very curious.) As much backstory they've thrown at us about her childhood and her father figure, as  much "emotional turmoil and trauma" they've put her through, to me Dutch is still this card board cut out that is so very, very flat. Pawter had more depth than her. It's crazy. I almost feel like Dutch doesn't have a personal conflict in herself. I don't know what Dutch wants. I don't know if Dutch ever asks if what she's doing is right or wrong. And for a main character in a show that's lasted 30 episodes, that's disturbing.

So, basically, I'm frustrated and disappointed that yet another scifi/fantasy show that had the potential to be great and had an interesting basic premise lost it out on the execution. There are other scifi shows that I want to check out, The 100, Dark Matter and The Encounter but their premises sound so stereotypical scifi cliche that I'm having a hard time mustering the energy. I'm either growing up and becoming more discerning or I'm having writer spidey senses.

[ftwrthtx]

Developer CI Games’ Sniper: Ghost Warrior 3 is the first title in the series to get the AAA treatment. Was it treated fairly or should this title get lost in the wilderness?

Read our review to find out

The Sniper: Ghost Warrior series got its start back in 2010 and tried to ride the popularity of sniper TV shows being aired on the History Channel and the Military Channel. That title was followed up in 2013 with Sniper: Ghost Warrior 2 with one of the previous playable characters making the transition to the next installment. These were fun games, that used real world bullet ballistics and trajectories in their gameplay, and required a lot of stealth and tactical thinking. They both received mixed reviews and garnered review scores that averaged around 5.5/10.

In Sniper: Ghost Warrior 3, the player takes the role of Marine Captain Jonathan “Jon” North, who, along with his brother Robert, is sent to the Russian-Ukrainian border to destroy an abandoned stockpile of Soviet-era bio-weapons before they’re stolen by terrorists. The two succeed in their mission, but are ambushed by an unidentified group of special forces soldiers, led by a man named Vasilisk who plays a game of Russian roulette with Jon before knocking him out and kidnapping Robert.

Fast forward two years and we find Jon back in a nearby area of Georgia trying to destabilize a separatist movement by taking out key targets of the Georgian cells. The only reason he accepted this mission was so he could also continue his search for his missing little brother, whom he knows has to be alive somewhere in the region. Thrown into the mix is one Georgian Loyalist ex-special forces sniper and former lover named Lydia and a Mossad agent named Raquel who is only there to look for and recruit Sergei Flostov, a Russian scientist.

The way the story of the brothers is told will draw you into their relationship a little bit and was nicely done. You get flashbacks to when they were kids, with some foreshadowing of things to come, and you get a glimpse of how the younger brother looked up to Jon and idolized him. As you progress through the story you’ll learn more about their relationship and how that relationship affects the overall story. The length of the campaign will be determined by how many side ops you take a go at, and there’s a bunch, but if you wanted to streamline the story you can expect 8-10 hours of gameplay. The game is designed for the player to take on these side ops, but they aren’t necessary for completion of the campaign itself.

There is a lot to see and do in Sniper: Ghost Warrior 3, so in order to get the most bang for your buck, clearing all of the side ops becomes a must. Once you pull up your map of the region you are currently in, you’ll find question marks littered through out it. As you approach each of these areas, you’ll come across several different types of missions ranging from rescuing Georgian prisoners to taking out Most Wanted targets. make no mistake about it, you will be outnumbered and outgunned so taking a Rambo like approach will probably not end well for you. You have an upgradable drone at your disposal and we strongly urge you to use it to your full tactical advantage. It’s not the quietest thing around, though so be sure to keep it high enough so as not to alert the bad guys someone is doing some recon.

Knowing the location of all of the bad guys in a current area will make completing that side op much easier, and since you do have a handy little sniper rifle equipped with a silencer, you might as well lower their numbers and increase your odds of success by taking them out one by one. Keep an eye on the durability of those silencers, though, as they won’t last forever and will need to be repaired from time to time. Repair kits can be purchased in a safe house so make sure you have at least a few at any given time (you can carry up to 5).

Each region has its own safe house and this is where you’ll be able to change your load out and buy new weapons. There’s also a work bench that you’ll need to use to reload your ammo. Resources are found littered throughout the regions, so keep an eye out for them, as you’ll need these in order to keep your arsenal fully stocked. You can also sleep in your safe house, which will advance the current time to whatever time you want. Missions are usually a little easier at night as you’ll find some of the bad guys sleeping that might be patrolling if the sun is up, so don’t hesitate to let that sun set on them.

The game is not without its flaws, and this is where we find our disappointments. The first thing you’ll find is that the load times for starting the game and for changing regions is long. How long, you ask? We timed it and it clocks in around 4 minutes and 45 seconds, on average. Exactly why it takes so long isn’t exactly clear as the game uses the Cry Engine 4 gaming engine and most games that use that technology don’t have the same issues. The maps for each region aren’t exactly small, but they aren’t extremely large either, so the game must pre-load every little thing for that region before starting the game. It really is unacceptable to have to wait almost 5 minutes when changing regions or from just starting up the game. Thankfully the PS4 allows for game suspension so we can quickly get back to killing within the same region after giving the PS4 a rest.

We did run into a few freezes along our journey and that required us to quit the game entirely and endure that loading time again, but those freezes were few and far between. We also fell through the map once but all we had to do was reload the last checkpoint in order to remedy that situation. As far as technical issues, that was all we encountered. Any game freezing is disappointing, but game freezes happen and there is an acceptable limit, and Sniper: Ghost Warrior 3 fell within that range for us.

Sniper: Ghost Warrior 3 is a fun game. If anyone tries to tell you differently, they probably aren’t fans of this type of gameplay. While the game is not without its flaws, it eventually does exactly what is advertised. For a AAA title, it’s probably not quite there yet, but it is pretty damn close.

Once you fire up the game, take a restroom break, make a snack or sandwich, grab a soda, and get ready for some sniping fun. The game is worth the loading wait.

7

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Sniper Ghost Warrior 3 Review - Worth the Wait Developer CI Games' Sniper: Ghost Warrior 3 is the first title in the series to get the AAA treatment.

#Sniper Ghost Warrior 3

[megamanxfanfics]

S.IV - Ep. 2: A Feud Amongst Friends

Written by Metal Man X

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INT. DR. LAYE’S LABORATORY – NIGHT

————————————————————————

Caption: June 1, 21XX.  – The night of the Erasure Incident.  5 months ago.

Rainy Turtloid stands in quarantine behind a glass chamber.  His armor is in the process of being decontaminated from dangerously high levels of toxins as Gate and his new colleague, DR. LAYE study him.

DR. LAYE: Well.  Your reploid looks much better than he did when he first got here.  What was his name again?

GATE: (Proud) This is Rainy Turtloid.  He is a member of our Water Quality Research Team.

She studies him and takes note of his ominous presence.

DR. LAYE: I see… He’s huge!! Why is he.. armed with all of those weapons?

GATE: (excited) He was designed to explore areas with high levels of pollution too great for humans and other reploids to investigate. As such, his defense systems were greatly heightened!

DR. LAYE: Hmm… Perhaps they’ve been heightened a little too much.  I’m a little concerned about his defense systems.  …Just look at all this.

She points to Rainy Turtloid’s huge frame.

DR. LAYE: …It’s unnecessary.

GATE: (offended) Well in my opinion, I think he’s perfect.

DR. LAYE: Listen to me, Gate.  I’ve done you a huge favor, granting your branch a fresh start here.  With Berkana and Isoc both out of the picture, you are the new Department Head, which means that we need to work together.

Gate politely nods, but his guard is up.

GATE: Right…

DR. LAYE: I am your new supervisor now. And as such, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to limit this reploid’s abilities. 

GATE: …and what if I don’t?

-Flash-

DR. LAYE: …I know about your track record, Gate. I’ve read your file. …you’re a very liberal scientist with a keen interest in illegal DNA experiments… If you cross me, you will be out of here so fast.. that no other Research Branch would even bother to look at your file.   …I demand that he be weakened, as soon as possible.

-Flash-

Gate looks down at the ground in silence.

She walks away as the heels of her reploid boots seem to echo throughout the chamber. ‘clack’ ‘clack’ ‘clack’ ‘clack’.  When the heavy door closes behind her, Gate stares at the floor with a lowered head.

GATE: (muttering, sad) …I can’t…  I won’t!

He turns to a table and pounds his fist on it as hard as he can.

GATE: I WON’T DO IT!!!

He throws equipment and beakers on the ground in a fit of rage.

From his Quarantine Chamber, Rainy Turtloid makes a miserable frown as he watches his creator thrash about the room.

-Flash-

RAINY TURTLOID: Master…  Please forgive me… for bearing this burden…

As Gate carries on in a worried fit of despondency, Rainy Turtloid can only grimace and feel a deeper sense of guilt.  His Master is upset because of him.  Gate's career was on the line, simply because of his existence. Feeling no other sense of recourse, Rainy Turtloid knows what he must do.

-Flash-

Slowly he activates sharp blades from his shell.  They break off the latches from a cleansing device, which held him in place.  As sparks fly, Gate looks at him from the other side of the glass.

GATE: Huh??  TURTLOID!!  WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!???

He runs over to the Decontamination Chamber and presses his hands against the glass.

RAINY TURTLOID: I will not allow you to ruin your livelihood on my account. Sometimes, sacrifices need to be made, in order to achieve our goals.  Goodbye, my Master…

Without hesitation, Rainy Turtloid aims his heavy missiles directly at the ground and explodes within the Quarantined Room.

GATE: NNNOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

Alarms blare as Gate stares at the contained explosion.  For the third time, another of his prized creations have died, before him.  

-       Fade to white –

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INT. LAYE LABS – Main Work Area – NIGHT

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

-       Fade in to Dr. Laye's Small Practice-

 Gate's scream transitions into a cry from their new supervisor.

DR. LAYE: NOOOO!!!!!

ALIA: Oh my God!

GATE: Oh man…

His creations and supportive staff all cover their mouths distraught at the sight on TV.

 Caption: November 15, 21XX – The night of the Sky Lagoon Incident.  Now.

ANCHOR: (filtered) The Sky Lagoon has fallen and completely levelled the lower half of Virginia, below.  There are no known survivors at this time.  Immediate responders to this tragic incident were various members of the Maverick Hunters and Repliforce, but they were too late.  It is currently unknown as to why the Sky Lagoon has crashed, but some sources say that it may have been due to a malfunction from the City's Power Reactor.

GATE: (annoyed) A Malfunction??

DR. LAYE: Are you kidding me!?

ALIA: (sad, upset) All that work..! Just like that.  Its gone.  All of our dreams are gone!!

Gate holds Alia by the shoulder and consoles her.

GATE: (determined) Not all of them.

He glares defiantly at the TV as we zoom into the screen, which displays the burning, fallen city.

[Insert Title Card – A Feud Amongst Friends]

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INT. MAVERICK HUNTER BASE – R & D Lab – NIGHT

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

 X teleports in to Dr. Cain's old lab to find a frustrated Zero throwing his helmet at the Mother Computer console.

 ZERO: God /DAMN it!!!!

X: (reacting) Zero!

His red helmet /knocks against the console and falls to the ground.

ZERO: Colonel is gonna start a War with us over NOTHING!!!

X: Nooo. We've got to stop him.  We'll talk some sense into him.

ZERO: We can't!

X: We have to…

Zero looks away, annoyed as he pulls out the tight band holding his pony tail up and lets his long hair drop to his shoulders.

He looks back at X with a serious face.

ZERO: What happened up there man??

X: I don’t know. It all happened so fast..  I… investigated the distress signal and saw a bunch of new mechaniloids damaging the Sky Lagoon along with that huge Dragon.  A small group of Repliforce soldiers were also occupying the area, but when they saw me, they just started firing at me!!

ZERO: What? For no reason!?

X: Yeah!!  Intel said that Repliforce were responsible for the attack.  At first I didn’t want to believe it, but… they attacked me!  Unprovoked.

Zero looks at X with wider eyes.

ZERO: I can’t believe it.

X: Dragoon was there too.

ZERO: That makes sense.  It figures that he’d be the first to show up after all of his digging.

X: Yeah, but it was all too late.  That Giant Dragon took out the Power Generator by the time he got there.

Zero's eyes twitch for a moment.

ZERO: Huh..  And that was when the rest of the base was alerted.

X frowns.

X: Yeah…

ZERO: But why, Colonel.. I don’t get it!  Why couldn’t he just come back and debrief with us? Just like we're doing.

X: He seemed to be under the impression that it would've been more of an interrogation.

ZERO: He's an idiot. And we're all going to pay the price for it…

X: Well…  That doesn’t have to be…  We can still turn this around.

ZERO: Hmph…

Zero pulls up Dr. Cain's last report. Now 5 months outdated at this point.

ZERO: Doctor Cain saw something coming all the way back in June.

He points at his directive on the screen to remind X.

DR. CAIN: (written) REPLIFORCE v3 proven ineffective and potentially dangerous.  Devise alternative to REPLIFORCE program. Establish MAVERICK HUNTER v4 with combo v3 units #0 and #17.  Respond to Maverick riot without delay.

X frowns. 

X: I… still don’t understand why he wrote that.

ZERO: Regardless, it is painfully clear now that he was right.  The Repliforce attacked you and Colonel has been nothing but defensive about it when we tried to question him.  That tells me that he's guilty!

X: Noo! We can’t be so quick to judge!!

ZERO: Hah!

He redoes his hair in a pony tail and grabs his helmet.

ZERO: You can think what you want, bud.  But like it or not, we're already at War…   You said it yourself. They struck first…

X sighs at the truth.

He puts his helmet back on and looks down at his friend.

ZERO: It's been a strange night. I'm going back to bed.  Lets sleep on it and figure this out tomorrow.

He pats X on the shoulder.

X returns the gesture with a pat on Zero's arm and a quiet nod.  Then he turns back to the monitor with a frown as Zero leaves.

-       Cut to –

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

INT. BIO LABORATORY – NIGHT

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

SIGMA & ISOC: Muahahahah!!!!

SPLIT MUSHROOM: Baaahahahah!!

CYBER PEACOCK: Hehehehehh.

A screech from the newly designed DARK NECROBAT is heard.

Sigma, Isoc, Split Mushroom,  Cyber Peacock and Dark Necrobat all share a good gloat as they celebrate their first major victory in Sigma's Grand Plan.

SIGMA: Yeees, this is excellent. I couldn’t have planned it better if I tried.

ISOC: Hahaha. The Colonel is so incensed from the Hunters' accusations that he is willing to go to War over it.

SPLIT MUSHROOM: Ohhh, this is too Good!

CYBER PEACOCK: (filtered) Master, what shall I do next?  Once I am in their framework, I can bring their Headquarters down at any time.

SIGMA: Heeheehee.  Lets wait a little longer. I want to enjoy this and see how everything unfolds.

Dark Necrobat looks at his new master curiously as he learns of their grand plans.

ISOC: How about we create plans for our next design?

SIGMA: Actually.. I think this is the perfect time to take my leave. 

ISOC: Hmmm?

SIGMA: I'm back and my feet and it’s time to move on.

ISOC: But.. There’s so much more to be done.

SIGMA: Now that the Repliforce and Maverick Hunters are going to War, I have an opportunity to plan on a much grander scale while they tear each other apart.  I have… bigger plans!

ISOC: I see.. But, why leave?

SIGMA: I grow tired of this dank and damaged Lab…  It rightfully belongs to Split Mushroom and therefore, we should leave it to him. 

Split Mushroom grins through his mask.

SPLIT MUSHROOM: Hehehehe. Thank you!!

SIGMA: …I have far greater plans that need to be developed in comfort.  And with our enemies after each other, time is no longer an issue.

ISOC: And what are these plans, if I may…?

SIGMA: (mysterious) The Earth, my friend.  It is filled with Mavericks.  They just don’t know it yet.

Dark Necrobat looks at his creator blankly.

SIGMA: I am a Virus.  And yet, I haven’t even begun to infect this planet after all these years. …What I need to do, is devise a way to unleash my fullest potential upon all of the people..  In order to truly create a World of Mavericks.

They all Look at their master with wide eyes.

SIGMA: But in the meantime, I want to enjoy this War, while I figure that out.

ISOC: Hm.. That’s understandable…  I suppose.  Perhaps I am due for a relocation as well.

CYBER PEACOCK: (filtered) Well I'm stuck in here. So it doesn’t matter where you guys end up.  So long as there’s a computer, I'm there…

SPLIT MUSHROOM: Hmph.  Well, if you're all planning on leaving, then I wish you would do it soon, so I can get back to my work!!

Sigma grins impishly.

SIGMA: Hahahahaha!!  Very well!  Do what you will, my Mavericks. The World is ours now!!!

He flies out of a nearby crack through the broken down Lab. 

Dark Necrobat looks up at Sigma, then he looks at Split Mushroom and Isoc.  He abruptly screeches at the patchy ceiling and blasts a heavy wave of sonar at the holes in the roof.  The sonar wave breaks the ceiling open as he flies out into the night sky.

SPLIT MUSHROOM: Heeey! Watch it!!

ISOC: Auugh what’s with this one?

The ceiling rubble caves in around them. The tops of the supporting walls crumple and reveal a large view of the moon, which shines down on them from the pitch black sky. 

SPLIT MUSHROOM: Gaaaahd Damn!!

From above, Dark Necrobat turns around and flies away in the opposite direction of Sigma.

SPLIT MUSHROOM: Now what!?

ISOC: (muttering) …Sigma..  I hope you know what you’re doing.  I think it is a mistake to put all of your faith in this Repliforce War…

-       Fade out -

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EXT. MEMORIAL HALL – Repliforce Press Statement – DAY

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

-       Fade in -

Caption: November 16

 On a grand, golden stage, General stands by a large podium and addresses a mass of troops from his Repliforce.  His Press Statement is being broadcast around the World.

 GENERAL:  Brave soldiers of Repliforce, we have all been wrongfully judged as Mavericks by the humans. We cannot suffer this indignity and live in disgrace. We will build our own nation of Reploids. But remember, this is neither about insurrection, or rebellion against our human creators. This is about our liberty and security. We must battle for our own individual rights, and our own survival. Together we will build our own nation, a sanctuary for all Reploids, our own Utopia. Let us forge onward towards a new golden era for the Repliforce.

 CROWD: YYYEEEEAAAAA

 The crowd cheers at the General's enlightened viewpoint as Colonel steps forward.

 COLONEL:  I, too, share the General's sentiment. Take heed, we have no other choice. Let us fight valiantly, with courage and pride, without fear—for we are the Repliforce. The most powerful army in history!

 CROWD: YEEEAAAAAAA

 The whole crowd cheers again as we zoom out from the audience.

 -        Cut to –

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

INT. ABANDONED APARTMENT – Dark Room – DAY

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

 Watching from a dark room in a nearby abandoned apartment building, Sigma watches the Press Statement from a Halogen Device.

 SIGMA:  Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! The General has finally taken action! And now, my Maverick Hunters, what will you do? I'll be watching closely from here on out. Ha ha ha ha!

 -       Fade to -

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INT. REPLIFORCE HQ – Recruitment Office - DAY

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

From his desk, Red looks at the TV monitor suspended from the wall at the corner of the room completely awestruck.

RED: What the-?

His eyes blink as he processes this new information.

RED: We’ve been labeled as.. Mavericks…?

-cut to-

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

EXT.  Jungle - DAY

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

Web Spider walks with his Guerilla Unit in a Jungle towards a large cannon.  They all nod their head in approval at the weapon they’ve been tasked to guard.

RED: (v.o, narrating) But… if the humans think we’re the Mavericks… 

-cut to-

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

INT. CYBER SPACE – DAY

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

RED: (v.o, narrating) What are the actual Mavericks up to?

Cyber Peacock stands before a protected firewall with the Maverick Hunter logo on it with his fists clenched.

-cut to-

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

EXT. Repliforce Air Base - DAY

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

Storm Owl runs with Spiral Pegasus and his Air Force Unit.

STORM OWL: Okay men!  Man your stations.  This is not a drill.

Spiral Pegasus follows his Commander onboard their heavily fortified Space Fortress.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: Where to, sir?

STORM OWL: We shall conquer the air, Skiver.  In this time of War, we must be prepared for anything, anywhere.

Spiral Pegasus gulps.

SPIRAL PEGASUS: Right.

RED: (v.o, narrating) …and if we begin to retaliate…

-cut to-

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

EXT. Repliforce Supply Train - DAY

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

Slash Beast swiftly runs and hops onto a long train stocked with crates of ammunition.

SLASH BEAST: Hmph!

He looks at the sky behind him as he stands by his Unit and growls, while the train takes off.

-cut to-

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

INT. REPLIFORCE POLAR BASE – Command Center - DAY

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

Frost Walrus stands in his Command Center as he analyzes a monitor displaying the World Map.  Before him is a set of cables and series of mechanical parts, in which he will use to change the world over once he creates his machine.

FROST WALRUS: (grinning) Heh heh…  Just you wait. Pesky Humans.  Once I build the World Freezer and get the General’s okay…  None of you will know what hit ya.   Hehehe.  It’ll be a new Ice Age!!!

-cut to-

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

EXT. SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA – Coast – DAY

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

RED: (v.o, narrating) …How will the Hunters know the difference?

 An irritated Jet Stingray flies above the coast of Sydney, Australia.  What once was a routine scan for Mavericks had now become an oppressive insult to his every being.

Unable to contain his rage any more, he acts out as he creates a barrier of wind energy all around his body.

JET STINGRAY: LABEL US AS MAVERICKS, WILL YOU!!!!????

He flies straight into the heart of the city and unleashes his powerful Ground Hunter missiles as he completely crashes through the iconic Syndey Opera House, unfazed.

JET STINGRAY: COME AFTER ME, HUNTERS.  I DARE YOU!!!!

-cut to-

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

INT. REPLIFORCE HQ – Recruitment Office – DAY

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

Red stares at the latest news report from his TV in fear.  Footage of Jet Stingray attacking Sydney chills him right to the core.

With wide eyes, Red shakes his head.

RED: Oh no..  I didn’t sign up for this…  This is all wrong.

He promptly gets up from his desk.

RED: (v.o, thinking) I can’t stand idly by and represent this “R” when I know we’re in the wrong.  …But, the Hunters were also wrong to label us as Mavericks in the first place…

He begins to walk towards the door.

RED: (aloud) So I’m just going to leave this all behind me.  From here on out, I stand for no one.  But myself.

With that, he closes the door behind him, never to set foot in a Repliforce Office again.

-cut to-

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

INT. MAVERICK HUNTER BASE – Control Room - DAY

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

The door to the Control Room opens as X and Zero run towards Captain at his central console.  The sight of Iris and a strange, portly, yellow Reploid standing by his side throws them both off, however. 

 ZERO:  (surprised, reacting) Iris! ... What are you doing here?

X tilts his head as he studies the unknown, pudgy reploid.

X:  ... Who are you? 

DOUBLE:  Call me Double, the Rookie Hunter. My liege, the Repliforce has begun its coup! 

IRIS:  My brother Colonel started the coup!

ZERO:  I know...

X:  ...Wait! ...Colonel, you're jumping to conclusions here!

DOUBLE:  Sir, you've been given the order to scramble!

X:  Right!

IRIS:  Please don't fight against him! This must be some kind of mistake!

ZERO:  They've occupied several cities already. As a Hunter, I must stop them.

IRIS:  Zero...

ZERO:  We must go now!

He clenches a fist that scares Iris.

CAPTAIN: I’m afraid he’s right.

Captain sits back with a frown as he displays their latest mission prompts one by one:

The first is a mugshot of Web Spider.

 -JUNGLE-

COMPUTER: Infiltrate enemy-occupied jungle and destroy the weapon under construction.

 X narrows his eyes at the familiar reploid on the screen.

X: Web Spider…

 Then, a mugshot of an unfamiliar Peacock reploid is displayed.

 -CYBER SPACE-

COMPUTER: A bug has corrupted the network. Dive into cyberspace and exterminate it.

ZERO: The Network is down again??

CAPTAIN: Strangely enough, our firewalls have not been tampered with as of yet, but they could be easily!  And we all remember how horribly that went last time…

X: (frustrated) Ahhh, I don’t have time for this!  Double!  Do you think you can handle it?

DOUBLE: (surprised, but diligent) Uh.. Huh?  err.. -Roger!  You can count on me.

ZERO: Uhhh. Do you think that’s such a good idea to send in a Rookie?  …No offense.

Double closes his eyes and nervously laughs.

DOUBLE: A-ha ha..  None taken.

He blushes, which makes X sigh and shake his head.

X: (annoyed, dismissive) Ahhh..  Just monitor the situation and keep us informed. Alright?

DOUBLE: (sighing, relieved) /Yes sir!!!

At the dash he sighs and makes a /grand salute at his potential Commander.

ZERO: Hmph.  (v.o, thinking) This kid picked a Hell of a time to join us.  Poor guy..

 Captain clicks on the next mission prompt.

A mugshot of Storm Owl is displayed.

 -AIR FORCE-

COMPUTER: The Repliforce ship has taken off. Pursue and blast it out of the air.

IRIS: (horrified) NO!!!

X: (scared) That can wait.  We don’t want to start an all out war with them yet.

Zero gives X the side eye, completely in disagreement.

ZERO: Still think this is all gonna smooth over, huh?

X is taken aback and twitches at the retort.

IRIS: I hope so!!

Zero’s entire demeanor softens at the sound of her voice and he lets out a sigh.

ZERO: (muttering) Damn it…

 Without warning, Captain displays the next prompt which blows everyone in the room away.

 -VOLCANO-

COMPUTER: Dragoon of the 14th Unit is a traitor.  Locate and bring him back to Hunter H.Q.

X makes wide eyes as he stares at the mugshot of Magma Dragoon on the screen.

X: (whispering, disbelief) No…

ZERO: Shit.

He quickly looks away and closes his eyes.

CAPTAIN: I’m afraid it’s so…  The 14th Unit is currently investigating the situation as we speak.

Having already received the memo, the dispatchers in the room do not react as deeply, however they still frown and shake their heads with dejection.

X: Oh man!

CAPTAIN: …There’s more…

He displays the next prompt.

An image of Jet Stingray is pulled up.

 -MARINE BASE-

COMPUTER: Repliforce decimated the city and left. Pursue them aboard a Land Chaser.

IRIS: (shocked) Oh my God!

ZERO: They’ll PAY for this!!!

X: (worried, pressured) ..Let’s leave that.. to the Maritime Unit.  (v.o, thinking)  This has to be some sort of mistake… …r-right?

 The next prompt is displayed.  This time, featuring an unknown Mushroom-based Reploid, which X or Zero have never seen before.

 -BIO LAB-

COMPUTER: An abandoned lab is now operational.  An influx of Mechaniloids have been produced there.  Investigate and destroy the lab.

X’s heart skips a beat and he adjusts his posture upright, feeling somewhat relieved by the familiarity of the threat.

X: (curious) Hm…

 Captain clicks on the next mission prompt.  A mug shot of Slash Beast is displayed.

 -MILITARY TRAIN-

COMPUTER: A military train is moving supplies.  Cut off Repliforce’s supply route.

ZERO: Gladly.

He clenches his fist with a determined grin.

Iris grows worried at the sight of Zero’s eagerness.

 CAPTAIN: And last but not least…

 He displays the final prompt.  It is a mug shot of Frost Walrus.

 -SNOW BASE-

 COMPUTER: We’ve discovered a hidden snow base.  Halt production of their new weapon.

 X: Wow.

 The new recruit stares at all of their mission prompts with wide eyes, completely overwhelmed.

DOUBLE: This is... too much!

X shares his new recruits disposition, but must set the example.  He immediately shakes off his own fears and looks down at the young aspiring Hunter.

X: Double…  You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.  You’re just a recruit.

He puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Double only frowns at the gesture.

Meanwhile, Zero grows anxious with anticipation.

ZERO: Ah man.  Decisions, decisions!  Where should we go first?

X looks over to his partner without as much enthusiasm, and looks up at their mission directives.

X: We’ve got a lot on our plate.

CAPTAIN: Yes.  You do…

ZERO: I say we cut off their supply route first.  Weaken their defenses.  Then we check out the action in Sydney.

X frowns.

CAPTAIN: What about the weapons currently in production?  Or this bird in Cyberspace…?  They could prove to be even worse threats.

ZERO: No way.  We’ll take out the brunt of their forces with all that we’ve got while we’re fresh.  Then we can handle the potential threats.

X: No.  He’s right.  We need to take this slowly.

ZERO: Are you kidding me-?

Iris looks at the two iconic Maverick Hunters disagreeing through their proposed strategies and begins to panic.

IRIS: PLEASE don’t fight the Repliforce!!!

ZERO: They’re giving us no choice!!  Just /Look at all of that out there!!!

He vehemently /points to the screen.

X frowns and looks at Iris.

X: Believe me.  I’m going to do everything that I can to stop this before it can get any worse.

She nods and wipes away a tear from her eyes.  Outside of X, she is the only reploid who seems to be capable of emoting to such a degree.

IRIS: O-okay…

She calms down as Captain addresses both of them.

CAPTAIN: Iris is standing with the Maverick Hunters as a sign of Unity.  She hopes that her presence among us will serve as a reminder to them that we are both on the same side.

X and Double share an impressed look, while Zero shakes his head only further annoyed at the idea.

ZERO: Only.. we’re absolutely Not on the same side.   Her stupid, brother had to be stubborn and draw a line in the sand when he refused to answer a few questions about the Sky Lagoon.

IRIS: (defensive, offended) He shouldn’t have to!  He was responding to the incident just like you two.

ZERO: All the more reason for him to cooperate!!!

X: Guys.

IRIS: (bickering) Oh yeah.  And you’re SO easy to talk to!

ZERO: Excuse me?

DOUBLE: Um..

X: Enough!  …This kind of thinking is exactly what got us in this mess in the first place.

They both look at X and take a moment to cool off.

Zero slowly walks up to her and gives her a close hug. 

ZERO: I’m sorry…

He lightly presses his forehead against hers as they embrace.

IRIS: Me too…

She wraps her arms around him and buries her head into his chest, worried.

 X takes a deep breath as he focuses his attention on the Mission Screen.

 X: I think.. Captain is right.  We should take preventative measures and focus on the minor activity first before they can become a major problem later.

ZERO: And what about the city that Jet Stingray just demolished?

X: Did you not hear me suggest that the Maritime Unit should handle it?

ZERO: Hmph.  And what about Storm Owl taking to the sky enforce?

X: (firm, strong) That doesn’t concern us, yet.  If it becomes a problem, we can have the 7th & 8th Armored Air Cavalry investigate.

ZERO: Hmph.  You have an answer for everything, don’t you?

X: Look…  Web Spider is stationed in a jungle guarding a weapon of mass destruction.  The least we could do is question him.  He’s an Ex-Maverick Hunter.  Maybe he’ll cooperate…

ZERO: Hah.  Fat chance.  He’ll want to fight us the moment he sees us and you know it.

X frowns, knowing that Zero is right. 

X: Hmm…

Captain pulls up more information on Web Spider’s Repliforce Unit.

CAPTAIN: There are actually a lot of Ex-Maverick Hunters in his new Guerilla Unit.

ZERO: Oh?

CAPTAIN: Yes.  You should have the 9th Unit accompany you.  A lot of these guys are formerly Special Ops and Armored Hunters.

He pulls up smaller mugshots of POISON TOAD, VENOM VARANUS, CARAPACE TURTLE and PLATED PLATYPUS.

ZERO: Heh.  Wow.  How about that?  It’s all the Hunters that left the second I came back.

X frowns.

X: They thought that you were a Maverick…  Even though you explained yourself to them.

ZERO: Shya. ..fools.  Serves them right!

X’s eyes glint in fear and pain as he stares at his one-track minded comrade.

X: (v.o, thinking) And now you’re doing the same thing to them. How do you not see that??  …We have to give them a chance to explain themselves.  It is the only way out of this foolish War.

-       Freeze Frame. Grainy Effect -

NARRATOR: (v.o) The Maverick Hunters and The Repliforce have made up their minds. The time to determine the Future of Reploid Independence has arrived.  Falsely accused, the Repliforce Navy has begun to strike. Now, the Maverick Hunters must act as a sign of retaliation.  As both sides make their initial preparations for War, X wonders if there could possibly be something more to all of this.  At present, the only definitive answer is the fact that this Repliforce War will prove the test of time and be talked about for years to come.

-       Fade to black -

#MMX Fanfics #Season IV #Ep. 2 #A Feud Amongst Friends #Rainy Turtloid death #Repliforce Press Statement #Repliforce Incidents #X4 Stage Select #Meeting Double #Iris' choice