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zep-writings · 8 months

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Kiss Me Goodbye

ONE SHOT.

Summary: Acting along side Sebastian Stan in the play "The Picnic" is a dream come true for you. But one thing you never expected was to fall hard and fast for your co-star.

Warnings: Talk of not feeling good enough, self doubt.

Pairings: Sebastian Stan x Reader.

Notes: I do not own any of the characters present in this story. I do realize Sebastian is a real person and therefore everything said in there is pure fiction.

I loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it.

I know I haven’t posted in a while and that’s why I thought sharing this one shot would be great. Let me know what you think.

Sebastian Stan Masterlist || Main Masterlist.

“KISS ME GOODBYE!” Sebastian yelled at you, as your heart tightened in your chest.

This was your last performance of The Picnic, this was the last time you would get to kiss Sebastian while you were both in characters, the last time you would get to touch him the way you did during the play. You couldn’t believe it had been only a few months since you two had met, because it almost felt like you had known each other since forever. However, a few months had been enough time for you to fall head over the hills for the man standing in front of you. You two got to kiss passionately almost every night while on stage. It wasn’t real, nothing was real but even if you knew that, you couldn't help at your heart breaking a little more every time, especially now that it was your last performance together. Staring the next day, you and Sebastian would probably never see each other again. You knew he was destined to do amazing in his career and even if deep down you really hoped he would at least stay friends with you, you didn’t want to get your hopes up.

You looked at him and your hands reached out to grab his face, as you did every night, to press your lips to his as his hands settled on your hips to bring you closer. Somehow that night you kissed him differently. It was deep, full of love and desperate and for a moment you wished he would never step back from you. Unfortunately, after a longer kiss than the one you usually shared, he did.

“I feel like a freak when I say this.” Sebastian told his lines and pointed at you. “I love you! Goodbye.”

As your heart broke even more in your chest, Sebastian stepped out of the stage and the rest of the performance was a blur to you. You finished your scene as if you were on auto pilot and soon enough you were in front of the stage, bowing down as the public cheered, Sebastian’s hand holding yours tightly, his thumb gently stroking yours. You didn’t want to let go of him and, almost as he felt the same or read your mind somehow, he kept your hands linked as you and all your co-stars made your way backstage when the light turned off. You had barely passed the door hiding you from the crowd that he pulled you in a tight hug, wrapping his strong arms around you and you slowly buried your face into his neck, inhaling his scent and closing his eyes for a second.

“You were amazing tonight.” Seb whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple before he stepped away.

“Thanks, so were you, as always.” You smiled softly, pushing a piece of hair from his forehead and getting lost into those big blue eyes you loved so much for a short moment.

You glimpsed quickly at his lips, already missing the feeling of them against yours but you were never going to admit it, not to him or not to anyone. You were going to miss Sebastian, so damn much, and you weren’t sure how to handle it. It has become such a strong and important presence in your life and you wanted to tell him how much he meant to you, you wanted to tell him that you didn’t want to lose touch with him because, even if he probably didn’t feel the same about you, he was still your friend. You opened your mouth to say something but before you could get a word out, you were cut off by one of your co-star.

“Guys, come on, we’re going out to celebrate!”

Sebastian offered you a soft smile and you cleared your throat nervously, taking out the wigs you were wearing for the play, letting your natural brown hair down. For a moment, you swear you could sense Seb stare at you, something different in his eyes but it was probably just your imagination because when you looked back up at him, he looked away.

“I’m gonna go shower, I’ll meet you out back in 30 minutes?” Sebastian asked you and you simply nodded, taking the time to step into your own shower in your dressing room.

After a quick warm shower, trying to get your mind off of what was bothering you, you dried yourself and slipped into a simple pair of jeans and a plain white tee-shirt. The night was clear, beautiful and warm. You always loved New York in the summer and you would spend hours outside going for strolls, short runs or just to sit in a park and read a book. You grabbed your sweater, your bag and made your way to the back of the theater where Seb was already waiting for you. A loving smile spread on his lips as soon as he saw you and you offered him a small, slightly forced one, trying to clear your head.

“The others have already left; they’ll be waiting for us there. Are you ready?” Seb explained to you, grabbing your hand in his, once again taking you by surprise.

“Yeah. Where are we going?”

“Sam rented a room at a restaurant for the party. A car’s waiting for us to take us there.”

You nodded and without anything else to say, you followed Sebastian outside. There were people waiting by the door, most of them fans of the man standing by your side, and as soon as you spotted them, Seb let go of your hand and went to sign autographs and take a few pictures with them. Silently, smiling and waving at a few fans, you made your way to the car waiting for you and stepped inside. You knew Seb was the most famous person out of the whole cast, he was now pretty well-known for his role in the Marvel universe, but he remained the most wonderful, generous and amazing man you'd ever met. You loved that about him, he was the most down-to-earth person and it just made you love him a little more every time your realize how much love he had to share with everyone around him.

After a moment, Seb finally stepped into the car and took a seat next to you, that smile you loved so much still spread on his lips. He really had the biggest heart, and you couldn’t help but feel a pinch on your heart at that thought. The ride to the restaurant was silent but not uncomfortable, you had had always felt really comfortable around him, being able to be the best version of yourself. Slowly, the car slowed down and when you stepped into the room, people were already chatting, alcohol was filling the glasses and soon enough Seb and you were pulled in different directions.

****

As much as the night was fun, and you love being able to spend a little more time with your co-star, the unsettling feeling about losing Sebastian settled back in after a while. You suddenly felt very overwhelmed, the few drinks you had throughout the night not really helping your mind stay clear. Politely you excused yourself to Ben, who played Alan, and made your way to the empty balcony. The fresh air made you shiver, and you closed your eyes for a minute, taking a long and shaky breath. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear Sebastian step outside, and you jumped slightly when he dropped his jacket on your shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scar… Hey, what’s wrong?” Sebastian asked, worries quickly filling his eyes when he noticed the tears on your cheeks.

“Nothing.” You smiled softly and whipped your cheeks with your hand.

“It doesn’t look like nothing. You seemed like you were having a great time out there.”

“I was, I mean, I am. I just… I guess I’m a little sad it’s our last night, that’s all.” You admitted with a small chuckle, trying to avoid Seb’s gaze.

“Yeah, me too. But that doesn’t mean we won’t see each other again you know. We’ll keep in touch.” Sebastian’s hand gently brushed against your back, and you shivered.

“You know you don’t have to say that right? I know you’ll probably be too busy becoming a superstar with your other Marvel movies.” You teased, trying to keep a little ton.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’ll never be too busy for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you registered Sebastian’s words, glancing up at him to realize he was absolutely serious. Sure, you two had become pretty close over the last few months, acting every night on stage together, hanging out on the days where you were not performing but you had never really imagined he could care about you as much as you did.

“Actually I… I kinda of wanted to talk to you about something.” Sebastian suddenly looked nervous and ran a hand through his hair, licking his lips as your frown.

“About what?”

“I realize that… Well that we were always acting, that you probably don’t feel the same way but I…” He massaged his neck and looked up to meet your eyes. “I like you.”

Seb’s words felt like a punch in the gut and for a second you completely froze, your eyes scanning his face for any sign of this just being a prank. But he seemed serious, honest but you still couldn’t believe it was real. How was it possible that someone as wonderful and generous as Seb could like you?

You chuckle slightly and Seb frowned at your reaction. “Very funny, Seb. Who put you up to this?”

“What?” He shook his head in denial and slowly took your hands in his, stroking gently the back with his thumb. “I’m… I’m serious, y/n.”

“You can’t be.”

For a moment, Sebastian seemed hurt by your words, really hurt and as he stepped back, letting go of your hand, you knew he was serious. You bit on your lower lips, immediately feeling guilty for doubting him. Sure Seb and you were close, but never in a million years you would have thought he liked you, or at least not in that way.

“You… You like me? Why?” You asked before you could even think about your words.

“Because you’re smart, funny, beautiful and sexy and I just love being around you. Because you make me feel good, about myself, about my life and I want to see you more. I want to kiss you, not because of a play but because we both really want to. I want to…”

Without any second thoughts, feeling a little overwhelmed, you raised to your toes and pressed your lips to Sebastian’s, the way you had always wanted to, not in front of a crowd, not as a performance, a real kiss. Sebastian’s hands gently cupped your face, bringing you closer to him as you rested yours against his chest, your heart beating way too fast in your chest. The kiss was different from all of those you had exchanged on stage, it was soft and loving and a lot better than what you had ever imagined it would be. When you finally parted, you were both a little out of breath, your forehead still pressed together.

“I like you too, I just never thought…” You shook your head slowly, chasing the thoughts once and for all out of your head. “I’ve liked you for a while…” You admitted in a whisper.

“Good. Because I’m not planning on letting you go.” Sebastian stroked your cheek before pressing a small kiss to your lips again. “Let me take you on a date. A real date. Tomorrow night, just you and me.”

You bit down on your lower lips to keep yourself from smiling too hard and slowly nodded. “Okay. Just you and me.”

Sebastian smiled and, once again, pressed his lips to yours in a deep kiss. He liked you, he wanted to date you and all of the sudden the end of your play together didn’t seem to be so hard to get over. You had him, you’ll always have him.

****

#Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan fanfiction #Sebastian Stan fanfic #Sebastian Stan x reader #Sebastian Stan x you #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction

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inknopewetrust · 2 years

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Like a Rolling Stone

summary: Eddie gets interviewed by Rolling Stone magazine. [wc: 2k] warnings: giving Eddie the interview of his dreams, very slight eddie x reader but its brief (no use of y/n or you, gender neutral terms), language. quick links: Masterlist

Turning the World Upside Down: Fame, Metal, and Roots with Eddie Munson.

Article written by: Stan Carmichael

Photos taken by: Lisa Erickson-James

The record that Eddie Munson has precedes him.

On a cold Wednesday morning in New York City, I sat across from the man who helped make Corroded Coffin become a household name. Metal retaking its place as a genre of substance—both in lyricism and musicality—and transcending the boundaries of what music has been. In the corner of the room his agent [Bill Philips, WMD] sat talking on the phone booking venues in Spain as the band prepared for their second European Tour.

At first, I observed the guitarist with a cautious eye. His nervousness unmasked; a production assistant fumbled with the microphone in their own anxious haze. After a few seconds, the assistant nearly clipped the skin underneath Munson's dress shirt and grew as red as a tomato, yet the guitarist brushed it aside. He gave them a kind smile and I knew then and there that the image of “Eddie Munson” was different from the man.

Born in Hawkins, Indiana in 1966 to parents Helen and Paul, Munson’s childhood was far from average. Prior to the town becoming infamous with the Four Paths Earthquake of ‘86, Munson’s mother passed when he was seven and his father was funneled in and out of prison after that. He moved in with his uncle, Wayne Munson, who helped raise a budding musician with an interest in fantasy and automobiles [Wayne noted in a letter he sent Rolling Stone that he was certain Eddie would have become a mechanic if he had a bit of practice, but he could never get him off the guitar]. Munson ran a Dungeons and Dragons Club during his high school years which labeled him an outcast—a lable which he now wears proudly with the members of his band.

When he finally graduated from high school [after three failed attempts], Corroded Coffin fled for the west in an attempt to find work as an up-and-coming metal band and with a stroke of luck, their first gig performing before Whitesnake led them to meet their band manager who signed them with Warner Music in 1988. Since that year, the band has only grown and with that, Eddie Munson has become an enigma. Millions of people swoon over his dark eyes and hair, scream the lyrics of their songs until their vocal cords go silent, and question why they don’t know more about the man who shreds their favorite solos?

The enigma of Eddie perplexed me. He had a record—breaking and entering, theft, and one instance of grand theft auto—but talking with him made me realize that any normal person would not know such a thing had it not been exposed in a salacious article four years ago. Munson was timid, a bit shy when I asked about his origins in Hawkins and the legacy that it’s had on adulthood; joyous when I recalled the infamous ‘89 World Tour; and reflective on the friendships and relationships he’s maintained over the years. As he prepares to turn thirty this coming year, I asked Munson about the future of Corroded Coffin, his personal life, and the wishes he hopes to have achieved by the time he is ninety [an age seven year old Eddie never had fathomed could be reached].

Take me to 1988. Corroded Coffin had just been signed their first record deal, a tour was already planned, and radio stations across the country were playing your first single, ‘Mistress of Ghosts.’ What was that like for a couple of kids from the Midwest?

It was strange [Eddie laughed, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck]. Fame is a complicated monster in its own right, so for us, these… nobodies from Hawkins to be thrust into the spotlight and respected in a community that we loved so much was really special. I remember Bill [Philips] said that we would never be prepared for what was going to happen. He was right. I’m not entirely sure we’ve ever grown accustomed to it.

Fame is a monster.

A scary one. It made our hometown like us when at one time, they called the cops every weekend when we’d practice at Gareth’s [Miller, drums]. Now our songs play on the radio and when we visit, they smile and ask for handshakes. When I was sixteen all the mother’s would rather burn their hands then shake mine.

Hawkins wasn’t the best town for an emerging metal band to start in?

Oh, hell no. I wouldn’t wish that on anybody.

In previous interviews you’ve mentioned the close group of friends that supported you living your dream. Are they the ones running the Corroded Coffin fan club in Hawkins?

[This is where I knew Munson had become comfortable. His smile lit up at the mention of the people he considered close enough to be family] No, they’re not but in the states that they do live, they have all of our records. The whole lot of them have given us more support and faith than anyone else. If it weren’t for them, we wouldn’t have made it.

Were any of them members of your Dungeons and Dragons Club?

Some and they're very proud about that. We still play when we’re not touring. Every Christmas we get together and hold a massive one-shot that fulfills the void while there is no campaign. I think this Christmas we’ll be in Seattle with a pair of newlyweds—so it should be interesting adding a new player.

No time for anything else when your touring?

Just the menial things in life. Keeping in touch with people, doing press, deals and endorsements. I went to the MET Gala this year and I was so out of my league that I don’t think I’ll ever go back. A bit too fancy for my taste.

[Munson attended the Gala as part of Gianni Versace’s invited guests. He wore a three piece suit that had the only flare of metal in the entire museum]

But we try to make time for what is important. It’s what keeps us sane and willing to write more. You can’t write music if you don’t experience life.

Experience is what drives music.

Something I’m a firm believer in, yeah. I write what I know. If I didn’t, everything would be artificial and no one would connect with it. Even with all the noise, we’re still storytellers that want good stories to come across in our music and, dare I say it, it’s what sells people on our records, albums.

Your album ‘Saga Nether’ led you to win a Grammy in 1993. It is not often that a metal band wins major categories but Corroded Coffin did. How?

It’s anyone’s guess, man… all I know is that I have a Grammy sitting on a bookshelf in my house and it’s a great paperweight.

Hawkins is not the town you call home anymore. You settled into a house outside of Los Angeles a couple years ago so, asking as a native Californian, how do you like it? Is it better, worse?

Better. A million times better.

No raging anti-music police banging at your door?

Hasn’t happened yet. If it did, I think my dog would chase them away. She likes the music.

Arwen.

She the perfect dog, Stan.

Named after the Lord of the Rings character.

Does it show how much of a nerd I am? She doesn’t care that I’m famous. I’m her dad and if I don’t feed her at a specific time everyday, she’ll sit on the floor and stare at me, no matter what I am doing, until I look at her. She knows she’s spoiled.

The fans of Corroded Coffin are always looking to know more about you, about all of you. What is something you can tell me about Jeff [Daniels, Electric Guitar]?

Jeff? Oh, man… [Munson thought long and hard about this question] he had braces twice. And I think he’ll need them again.

And what about you? What is something that no one knows about Eddie Munson?

There’s a lot of things they don’t know.

Favorite song? We’ll start easy.

Master of Puppets. Is that a cliché now? I know it’s popular.

Favorite color?

Black. No, blue! Maybe red? I like them all.

Madonna or Blondie?

One, do you want me to end my career early? And two, how can a man choose?

Favorite movie?

It would be untruthful to say it wasn’t Rocky Horror… but I have a soft spot for Aliens.

Aliens?

Sentimental value.

First love?

Absolutely connected to that movie [Munson blushed like a school boy. His dating life is one subject of curiosity among fans]

Is it difficult to maintain a love life when touring and obligation keep you away from home?

Not if you have a partner who is willing to understand the circumstances of the job. They don’t have to be part of the industry to get the gist of things but if they can at least pretend to walk a minute in my shoes, it works out just fine.

So, do you want to give fans hope?

Hope that they can walk a mile in my shoes?

That Eddie Munson is looking for love?

Love never left the summer I saw Aliens at my local theater. I’ve been very lucky. It’s not been easy—especially in those early years of financial and success uncertainty but I got very lucky.

They’re not in the spotlight?

No. We keep things simple. When I’m home, it’s as though nothing is out of the ordinary. I talk about my day like any other man does and they tell me about theirs. We have a dog, a fish now too actually. There is nothing I like more than remembering I’m not the image I put on when I’m on stage. It’s still me but also not me, does that make sense.

Yeah. Like an alter-ego of sorts.

Exactly. When I walk through the door, they humble me real quick. All of them, my friends, family… sometimes I don’t think they care I ever won a Grammy or that I’m being interviewed by Rolling Stone [that was a joke. Munson mentioned after the cameras rolled that his friends were very excited about this].

What’s next for Eddie Munson? You have a dog, a fish too. A partner, a house, a band that is growing every year and rumors of a biopic being conceived by filmmaker Steven Spielberg. Where is life taking you?

All of what you said sounds absolutely nuts. Could you imagine having a movie made about your life and someone like Tom Cruise or whoever could play you!? I don’t know if it’s still in the works, but I want to be a part of it if it happens.

Noted. I’ll let Mr. Spielberg know.

We’re working on a new album that will be out next year. I won’t give anything away but I’m very proud of it and think people will like it. As for everything else, I don’t know… I’ll take what life gives.

Kids? Marriage?

If those are in my cards, I wouldn’t say no to them.

If you could tell ten year old Eddie one piece of advice, what would it be?

Just fucking go for it, kid. None of it matters in the end. If you do what makes you happy, that’s the best reward.

Keep playing D&D, blaring music from a stereo?

Absolutely. If it keeps you sane, keep on with it. You're a child for less time than you are an adult, so there shouldn't be this stigma that enjoying games or rocking out to music in your living room is a ridiculous thing.

What about ten years ago? What would you say to Eddie at twenty?

There's a lot I would say to Eddie at twenty.

Be prepared?

Probably everything will be okay. Twenty was a difficult year and it was hard to see the other side of it sometimes, but I had these little sheep that looked up to me and knew that everything would be fine in the end. Two years later my life moved in a much different direction so without those years of struggle, I don't think my resolve would be as strong.

In hindsight, struggle is not always as bad as it seems.

In the moment, it feels awful. But if anyone can get through it, the resolution is rewarding–especially when you have a good, loving circle around you.

And if you could ask ninety year old Eddie one question, what would it be?

Ninety? I don’t know if all the drugs I used to do would like to hear that I’m going to live that long but if I do, shit…

I guess I’d ask if he was happy with the life he chose? And I’d hope that answer was a resounding, unwavering yes.

This interview was conducted on 14 November 1995 at the Rolling Stone Headquarters in New York City. Corroded Coffin’s new album ‘Sins of My Father’ releases on 21 March 1986 with preorders beginning 1 March 1986. A special thanks to Eddie Munson, Bill Philips, and the team at Warner Music for organizing this interview.

#Eddie munson #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things 4 #oh what could have been #I know this isn’t really a big x reader fic #but you can imagine Eddie is talking about you as his partner

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capricorn-0mnikorn · 6 months

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Today, Wikipedia told me...

That the legend of Herne the Hunter might have been made up out of the whole cloth by Shakespeare, for his play The Merry Wives of Windsor. He could have also been relating a local town legend, but his version is the first one we have in writing:

Margaret Page: There is an old tale goes that Herne the hunter, Sometime a keeper here in Windsor forest, Doth all the winter-time, at still midnight, Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd horns; And there he blasts the tree and takes the cattle And makes milch-kine yield blood and shakes a chain In a most hideous and dreadful manner: You have heard of such a spirit, and well you know The superstitious idle-headed eld Received and did deliver to our age This tale of Herne the hunter for a truth.

(Act 4, scene 4)

Anyway, I'm going to take this opportunity to thoroughly recommend Merry Wives. It's another case where the general consensus of "Literary Shakespeare Scholars" and I part company; generally, it's considered one of his "lesser plays," and not very good.

It has a feel very much like an episode of "I love Lucy." I can't help but wonder if it's held in low regard because:

A) There's not a lord or king in sight, B) it''s very self-aware of its genre as a farce, and C) the plot is thoroughly driven by a pair of middle-aged, married, women (and we even get to learn their first names!).

...Considering who, generally, have been the arbiters of taste, regarding Shakespeare, for the majority of the last 300+ years.

I usually like to recommend Shakespeare plays to people by way of professional performance. But this play is so rarely performed. The closest I could find was this version by college students in 2012 (uploaded to YouTube in April, 2020, by the Texas Shakespeare Festival, since live, in-person, performances weren't happening that year). ~2 1/2 hours. Auto-generated captions. Content Warning for fatphobia in the original script.

Link to an HTML of the full script online, from MIT.edu.

#Herne the Hunter #T.I.L.#Shakespeare #merry wives of windsor #literary ghost stories #Falstaff

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crimsonlyinglilly · 7 days

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Day 10 Adrenaline

Fallen behind, but I'm back hopefully, Day 10 for whumpril

and returning to Familiar faces, set Season 3 ep 14, Esther fails to listen to Elijah, so he decides to make it clear he isn't going back to be her responsible dutiful son.

A little bit of grand theft auto and joyriding in front of the town should make that clear he hopes.

----

Leaving the house and stepping into the cool air was something he needed, after the many questions about his new family from people who knew his parents, the only ones he wanted anyway, airing out Esther’s past of failing to stay faithful to her husband was completely her fault for revealing his adoption to the town just so she could claim him.

Attempting to force him back into place, as the good dutiful son always there to look after his siblings when she got tired of them.

He wasn’t going back to that, unlike Finn, he had realised how much Esther had damaged them and was cutting her off, it just seemed she wasn’t listening. He had thought maybe after the morning talks she could accept it or just give him some space, he was wrong.

He had arrived tonight and within moments had been collected by Finn, once again moth- Esther’s errant boy, been warned not to embarrass her when he had tried to remind her he wasn’t her son anymore, let his tongue loose but she still refused to let him go.

So he had found himself alongside them as they welcomed the town, introduced themselves and he had frozen as Esther relieved the story of the son she had given up and was so pleased to be reunited with.

Thanking the Gilbert's and the town for taking care of him and giving her the chance to have her family back, it was only the fact he was meeting aunt Jenna’s eyes that had stopped him reacting.

Then Elijah had been left to answer the questions, so he had, it wasn’t like they were lies; no he was still a Gilbert, Uncle John was his bio dad, no he wasn’t angry to have been given up, Mrs Mikealson’s husband hurt his children, she has a history of extra marriageable affairs.

The weight of Kol’s arm over his shoulder reminded him of why they had left.

At first he had offered it as something to distract Kol and Rebekah from killing Matt, not quite the same way the dutiful son Esther wanted would have done it but then he wasn’t that son for her and while tonight everyone here would be linking him to the Mikealson name he didn’t need to worry about letting down the Gilbert family image.

Elijah had bitten back his temper a lot throughout his life, he was going to let it out tonight, a lesson to teach Esther that he couldn’t be forced into playing happy families, that the dutiful son he was a thousand years ago was long gone never to return.

He ignored the thought that this wasn’t him as he scouted out the car to use, the responsible older brother, Elijah Mikealson was taken a break, this wasn’t even Elijah Gilbert.

This was just Elijah tired of everything and letting it go, not smothering how he feels or caring about how it was going to reflect on him or his family.

Thinking of it that way he made sense why he picked the car he did, it was prefect if a little petty but Elijah had a long memory, and he always kept note of small injustices against them

Marcus’s new car, the one he’d been bragging about since before he got it, new, expensive and important to the one who had never missed a chance to taunt him over the cheer uniform, who had broken his bag when he was nine, had pushed him from a tree at seven.

Elijah smiled to himself as he led Kol towards it.

When the car proved locked, Kol shattered the window without question only asking what Elijah was doing as he hotwired the car.

—-

Elijah realises why Klaus and Kol used to have their horse races down the streets as he presses his foot down of the accelerator, he felt a rush of adrenaline as the car roared, and Kol whooped as the took a sharp turn around the front of the place.

They could have just taken the car and raced around the town but then he wouldn’t get to see Ether when it finally got through to her that Elijah wasn’t going back to her peacekeeper

Elijah caught view of Esther and Finn as they past the grand entrance the third time and pressed harder on the accelerator.

“You don’t mind if we crash” he called over to Kol, the rushing wind though both broken windows forcing him to speak up, Kol hadn’t bother to wait to Elijah to open the door to him and had repeated the way he had opened the driver side by shattering the other front door window.

“What?” Kol shouted back.

“I’m going to wreck the car.” he explained as they made another loop around getting closer to the parked cars, he was only risking the most expensive one in the lot. The kind of people that impression matter most, and the Mikealson’s ball was about to end with two of the sons crashing a guest’s car into the others.

“You're human.” Kol reminded

“I’ll make sure most of the damage is on your side.” he offered as much as getting Kol injured on purpose screamed wrong to him, it made sense since Kol would heal.

“Alright brother, do your worst.” Kol grinned, Elijah found himself grinning back.

He had spotted Grant’s and two more of the team’s members' cars parked in a line earlier, now it seemed, well that was just asking for him to crash.

He slammed on the break, his loud breath completely drowned out by the rushing air and screaming tyres as the car twisted, back wheels continuing to move despite the brake locking the front ones up.

He braced for impact.

Kol’s side of the car hit the other two, Elijah winced at the sudden stop, the jolt no doubt making the belt leave more bruises but after months of Klaus forgetting his strength or Elijah’s current weakness he was used to them.

Besides Kol had already shown him hold to heal them, earlier after his words to mother had pushed Finn and Klaus to react without thought in her defence.

In the aftermath of the clash with his ears still ringing from screeching metal and shattering glass he hears laughing, he finds himself laughing too, grinning over at Kol.

If he still had vampire hear he would no doubt hear Marcus’s and Grant’s choked sobs or curses, but he wasn’t so the only thing that mattered was Kol’s joy.

#whumpril2024 #whumprilday10 #adrenaline #fanfiction #elijah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #the originals #fic #tvd fanfiction #au- familiar faces #the vampire diaries #the vampire dairies au #the originals au

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incarnateirony · 1 year

Note

I’ve seen you mention wigglebox a couple times the last few days. Are they bad news? I thought they were team destiel.

Wigglebox got banned from my server for triangulating Jensen's colorado home. Used satellite, after trying to pretend to be investors trying to buy vacation homes didn't work, and other weird steps they did whilel I wasn't paying attention. I had made them a little hobby room to find if/where misha was during the finale and somewhere they completely lost the plot. They found mishas sisters places and like 3d toured their houses on realty and shit like it was SO out of fuckin pocket.

Wigglebox ran to a server named Andromeda, where they continued their weird stalky shit. And swore it was "to protect Jensen's address." they also insisted they found it accidentally. They accidentally looked for unique trees in his videos and accidentally swept the entire town they knew he was in by satellite to accidentally find him.

Per the linked post, Andromeda did some really shady shit during the spn finale script thing. POLOL was arranging a 25 dollar distribution with the vendor to release multiple copies anyone could buy and put us on the first issue list. But Andromeda found out we were doing that and had arranged some shady backdoor deal for a supposed second physical script for 400 (never happened) and kept trying to aggro us out of the 25 dollar deal because wigglebox REALLY wanted that script and attention.

And we were like. No??? so anyway. 2po was busy boning Kelios and Vinnie at that time, which he denies despite my pinned receipts. That whole server denies it. Why?

Because despite wigglebox swearing 2po wasn't trustable and that's why they needed THEIR script save or whatever they decided to team up, and Andromeda became Scripthunt. 2po got on the secondary distro list of the digitals and waved it around like LOOK WHAT I DID and we all rolled our eyes. OK whatever but we have the truth and guess what 2po you were wrong I was right. But meantime he boned V/K for 5K, which again, despite receipts, they deny.

But in came that group. And every big name fan that felt the end of their throne coming in the new show, every salty ass, bitter ass motherfucker lined up in there. It's not even like. Just one lane. Like. Hellers used to know better than to work with Jules, or Fangasm. Those were ones that had big warning signs stapled on them about being snakes and untrustable. (And I mean, her bad intel DID already bone 2po earlier about THE FAKE SCRIPT, because her Very Shiny Crew Badge.) Oh and the next wave there was people I banned from my server for trying to hijack admin permissions and delete shit in mine. Oh and the one bastard banned from my server for being a blatant sea lion troll that was annoying literally the entire server for months on end.

Like. Aborddeimpala? Makes great gifs. But hard anti. They're trying to play the moderate "OH NO WE CAN ALL JUST GET ALONG" like it's 2011 again. And like. no. the show was made to get rid of a bunch of those people.

Anyway, that's also where a lot of my targeted hate comes from, it's all directed out of that server. They refuse to back off even when proven wrong on the pilot or anything else, 2po just shifts new lies and narratives and pumps it through the scripthunt server while wringing money out of people to send their buddies to cons free, even with gold passes. "for autos, for charity" that see a sliver of it back. And idk why gold is included. silver autos are the same. Also why they attack me so hard for freely distributing scripts. It really fucks their game up.

Almost like. Wait for it. The entire origin of that server is shady snakes, clout seekers, stalkers, aggros, antis, bitters, and people with major agendas that are forming their final stand of relevance as the self proclaimed guardians of old scripts. That's ... basically who makes the place. Fangasm wants to stay relevant. Superwiki wants to stay relevant. And even with her badge and bajillion followers her traction isn't really even higher than mine. And that pisses them off. Fangasm doesn't have jared to uwu at now. Like. I could just go on and on and on breaking down how it's a toxic installation of fandom old BNFs that just don't want to go irrelevant in the new fandom.

And, again, another reason they attack my SPNWIN leaks so hard. Because they realized they got left in the past and their coffee runner Wiki has shittier, older access than what I found. And I knew, when that server sent THE ENTIRE FANDOM AT ME SCREAMING IT WAS FAKE, it was wrong, both cuz the draft stamps and, you know, I HAD THE OLDER DRAFTS AND ARENAS. But reality didn't matter to them. They just wanted to beat down the people ahead of them in the information game, the people giving out stuff free instead of giving them money or convention rides for it.

THAT'S what that fuckin server is.

So yeah. Wigglebox is a FUCKING problem.

#supernatural #spn #spnwin #fandom #grifters #con artists #antis #bitters #everyone honestly needs to read this

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ridetherain · 1 year

Text

Courage At the Front Part 1/2

Hi. I have Zelda fanfic for reading. It's been mostly finished for like, a year? I had a lot of fun with it and I learned a lot about WWII warfare. Thanks to the hubby for pretending his expertise in pre-industrial arms and armor also includes early 20th century tanks.

Summary: Zelda is a mechanic and Link is a tank operator in Hyrule's WWII equivalent. And our two heros get trapped together behind enemy lines.

Warnings: This is a WWII fic. It has crude language, descriptions of frontline warfare and it's aftermath, slight gore and major character injury. And gallows humor, cause they're soldiers in war and they gotta live through it somehow.

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

Part 1

Zelda

"I want to do something real!"

Zelda was screaming at her father over the phone. She was breaking every one of her rules. No using royal privilege; how else was she going to get access to a phone? No subverting the chain of command; well, she had gone directly to the King. That might have skipped a few rungs on the ladder. Act like any other enlisted man; and screaming at the King is unlikely to be the standard operating procedure. Zero for three.

"I've been trained to fix anything! I was best in my class! Jeeps for the brass are not a priority. I should be with the troops and I should be serving my country in the best way that I can. Isn't that why I'm here?"

All the wind had blown out of Zelda's sails by the end of her argument. She was getting nowhere with the King. He wasn't going to lift his order to keep her safe and he certainly wasn't going to send her to the frontlines himself. She'd trained to fix the heavy infantry tanks that were stationed all over the eastern front. She was the best. No one was faster or understood more intuitively what needed to be done. But, instead, she was fixing jeeps that the Generals treated like pleasure vehicles. They'd come in with no gas and tell her it was broken or they'd need their goddamn wipers replaced. It was insulting.

"Nevermind, father. I'm going to get back to work."

She hung up and went back to her command. Which was a small motor pool with a squad of mechanics. Technically she was due a larger command, but no mechanic this far from the fighting should have her rank. The boys didn't really need her there at all, truth be told. General Impa was a micromanager and their shop ran like a civilian auto repair anyway.

Link

Link huddled into his small corner of home in the trench. He'd cleaned it up nice so there was a small divot dug into the wall so rain wouldn't ruin his small collection of keepsakes. Right now he had a little journal to write in, some playing cards, and a letter from some school kid who informed him "Mr. Owlen says I have to tell you that you're brave" which was charming enough to keep. He'd smoothed the ground beneath his feet so that he had comfortable dirt to sleep on and his trusty rifle settled over his shoulder digging into yet another dug-in divot in the wall. All-in-all he'd dressed it up to be the nicest spot in the line.

His squad had been stationed here for two weeks so far with very little else to do. At some point they would probably jump up and storm the enemy, but he tried not to think about that. He was too young to die. He tried to keep some dirt on his face at any moment. He wasn't technically old enough to enlist and anything that kept people from really looking at his face was a plus. It was easier before. He was the loader on a medium tank with only four other men for company. But then the gunner got his points and was sent home leaving the rest of them a man down. He'd gotten orders an hour ago to report to the depot to be assigned to a new crew in the morning. Until then, he'd be hunkered down here in this cesspit trying to get some shuteye and stock up on "supplies" that weren't part of the standard kit. Dirty pictures, booze, and hopefully some real food.

Zelda

"Lieutenant! Call for you, ma'am!"

"Thank you, Private."

Zelda took up the office phone and snapped out a greeting. She was losing another man. Pretty soon she was going to be running this place alone. Apparently heavy fire was anticipated and they needed another mechanic on hand familiar with the newest combat vehicles. She took up her roster to see who had the best qualifications for the job. If they were calling up someone from here it would be a rough job. She ran her finger down the list and stopped at a name. Could she do that? There was an obvious implicit order, but it wasn't actually said. She had free reign to send whoever she chose. Who could stop her decision? They were leaving soon.

She scribbled out the order, updated the roster list, filled out the daily report, and marked the next in command. She would leave immediately. Her duffle was already supplied for departure and she grabbed a go-kit with essential tools. The truck was already nearly loaded up with supplies and her driver was climbing in.

"Ready?" She called to the back when she was settled.

"Ready!" the loaders confirmed.

"Move out!"

The driver pulled out of the compound and they were on their way to the front. He glanced at her, but clearly eyed her epaulettes before deciding to keep his mouth shut.

Link

Link settled into his position in the turret. They were buttoned up and already getting ready for a fight.

"Load up, gimme seven five!" The new commander Burlon called from his spot above him in the radio seat. Link slithered down to the floor and started pulling up the armored cover and pulled out the smooth munitions. Burlon was calling out directions to Dalt to position the gun. The ammo was loaded and the gun was ready in seconds.

"Up!"

Burlon called out the fire and Link pulled up the next load. He was fast and being small made it easier for him to get into all the little hideaways where any spare air was filled with ammo. The place stank up quickly with the sweat of five men in tight quarters. It was hot as ever and beads of sweat ran freely down his back. Only his hands were kept dry with any spec of spare cloth to be found. He couldn't afford to drop something. One store empty, Link closed it up and moved to the next in an awkward spot beneath his gunner's butt.

"Move your ass, Dalt. I can't get in."

Not quite a well oiled machine just yet, this new crew.

"Fuck you. I gotta aim."

"Quiet. All of you," The commander was looking through his scope, "HEAT! Take us back!"

Burlon's frantic calls on the radio blurred into the background. Anti-tank guns. Link scrambled to lock away all the mortars. Easiest way to kill a crew was to blow them up with their own gun. The tank rocked roughly in the retreat and Link banged his jaw against the bottom of his seat. He let out a slew of curses and braced against the top cage.

"Back in your seat, soldier!" Burlon ordered.

Still cursing, Link threw himself into his seat and threw a hand up to check his face. It came away bloody.

"Incoming!" As one, the team bent and braced for impact.

Zelda

"Okay team, the enemy is retreating. We need to get out and salvage what we can. Level one and two damaged vehicles will be handled by the first division. Level three damage is us. We'll work from near to far."

Zelda nodded to her partner and began running to her assigned vehicle. A Farore Mk IV about a mile away that's likely still in good enough condition to at least drive. The field was a mess of tracks and mud and empty casings. Burn marks scorched across huge stretches of land where shells exploded. Zelda tried not to see the remains left behind. The wounded and dead were attended already, but sometimes things were left behind. A half burned boot was stuck in the mud and Zelda pretended it's because the soldier decided to take off his shoe. She knew these soldiers were fighting for their homes and their families, but it felt like they were fighting for her as the Princess. She would face the cost when she wasn't working. When she had time to process.

She stopped with her partner, a big Private who could do some of the heavy lifting, when they reached a potential salvage.

"What do you think, ma'am?" He circled and shook his head.

"I don't think so, let's keep going. We can't drive with the track looking like this." It was mangled. "Avoid that next one, it's still smoking."

"It should be alright, let's look real quick. See? The smoke is coming from the front. Probably just overheated." Zelda wavered and the Private took his chance.

"It'll take less than a minute to check and then we can move on."

Zelda sighed and gave a nod. He was older and more experienced for all the rank difference. They crept to the tank and began an exterior inspection. Smoke was lightly billowing from the front so Zelda moved around to the back to ensure that whatever was smoking wasn't coming out another side.

Everything looked fine in the back except another pair of boots under the chasis. This time, the boots still had feet in them.

"Hey! Wounded!"

Zelda pulled on the boots and a soldier slid free with a squelch. She yanked his shirt out of the way and thrust her hand to his throat for a pulse. It was strong and steady. The Private was working the portable radio frantically.

"Lieutenant! Incoming troops! We have to find shelter!"

"What?!"

"I'm going in!"

"What?! NO! It might not be-"

An explosion cut her off. The opened hatch let in a rush of oxygen and ignited the dying fire within the tank body. Zelda threw herself over the unconscious man. She held on for dear life and clamped her eyes shut. Her ears rang and her head blurred, the heavy armored vehicle rocked ominously in her direction. The enemy was coming. She never learned her partner’s name. The man below her would die if she didn't recover quickly enough. What next? She could hear them coming. A dull rumble turning to a roar. Men shouting.

She shoved the wounded man back under the chassis where she had found him and squirmed into the mud beside him. She prayed to all the goddesses that they would take the smoking remains of this tank as reason to pass it by. Prayed that it wouldn't continue to explode above her. Prayed the man next to her didn't die while she laid in a grave next to him. Just in case, she kept her hand on his throat to feel his pulse throb in a steady, comforting rhythm.

Link

His head ached. A terrible ringing grayed out his vision. His body was hot and cold and hot and cold. His throat was full of smoke and death and weight. And damp. A wet, hot, muddy hand was pressed against his throat. He breathed in quickly then was cut off from shouting when the dirty hand shot up to his mouth.

"Shh!" He couldn't see the shusher, "They'll hear you."

It was a woman's voice. Link tried to take stock of the situation, but there wasn't much to go on. He was lying in a drying puddle of mud under what was likely his tank with a woman. If it weren't for the mud it might have been on purpose. And if his head didn't feel like it had been split open by a hatchet.

"What happened?" His words were slurred.

She didn't answer immediately. "We were overtaken."

Enemy territory. Okay. There was a process for this. Hide. Get somewhere safe. Take stock. Gather supplies. Make your way back. Don't get caught.

"Did you work on this hunk of garbage, Sargent?"

"Yes, ma'am. Loader in the hole."

"Okay. Then here's what we're going to do. The M4A2 at two o'clock looks in alright condition from here. We'll take shelter inside until we can come up with a better plan or until we can get it running and make a break for it."

"That's a Zora tank. I've never-"

"Me, either. Can you walk? You hit your head, I think."

"I think so. It's not far."

He really wasn't sure. The woman, a Lieutenant, seemed to have a plan which is a sight better than he had so he would just have to make it. The mud squelched and slurped noisily with every extracted limb. A cool breeze nearly froze him to the bone after so long in the damp. The Lieutenant steadied him with one hand and kept a grip on a metal box with the other. He thanked the Goddesses when he realized it was a mechanic's toolbox. She carefully picked her way through the supplies they had strapped to the back of the vehicle and grabbed the med kit and a small bag of foodstuffs. Link grabbed his personal pack and slung it over his shoulder with his rifle.

They set out across the field with furtive glances in the direction their camp used to be back when it wasn't completely deserted. The ground was rough and packed hard from the heavy machinery driving over the ground. A faint smell of dead hung suffocating in the air and kept Link light-headed the entire journey. He hung his head to the ground and followed the woman blindly into danger. They stuck together from one safe cover to the next. She stepped carefully around any unknown piece of metal on the ground and avoided bloodstained dirt like it was contagious. She was basically unarmed and unfamiliar with a battlefield and squeamish on top of it all.

"You green?" he asked.

"No" was the clipped reply. He reached out to her anyway and pulled her up short.

"Listen, Lieutenant Bospho-" He squinted at her name patch. "Bosphor--... Lt. Bosso. Listen Bosso, I've been active for a while and I'm the one with a rifle. I'll take point."

She looked very upset. Either she wanted to lead the way because of her greater rank or she disagreed with his butchering of her name. It's not his fault her name didn't fit with standard sized lettering. He let his grip on her sleeve tighten and pulled her behind him before striding forward carefully and tugging gently at her sleeve in a silent command to follow. She didn't think of an objection before they were moving, but Link heard her mouth click shut. It hardly mattered, superior officer or not she was a mechanic and likely didn't carry anything more than a pistol if she had any weapon at all. He was trained and was at least used to the leftovers in a field. His hands were already bloodied.

Their pace picked up with him in the lead. He marched confidently through the mud, avoiding bloodstains for his delicate companion, and arrived at the Lanayru tank shortly. He circled the machine once to look for smoke. The turret hatch was open so there was unlikely to be anything smoldering inside. Lt. Bosso hauled herself up to the top and flashed a torch into the hole. As it happened, she did carry a pistol, and was comfortable enough with it to wield it alongside the torch.

"No one's home. Let's get in and rest for a bit. I wonder if they've got a decent map in here."

Link pulled himself up and slid in after her. She shuffled her way into the driver seat and he slid neatly into the gunner's . This thing had elbow room. Maybe he should have lied about his age and his home province. This would have been nice. It gave him the room to eye the Lieutenant's shapely behind from several excellent angles while she found her seat. He was still considering his luck when she finally put her butt down in a chair.

"So, Sargent Forrester. Let's figure out what's next."

Zelda

Sargent Forrester was rude and brash but kindly enough. His stumbling over her name was fairly rude and Zelda wasn't sure how he didn't recognize it. His behavior bordered on insubordination, but she was grateful that one of them knew what to do at least. She could plan all she wanted, but none of this was like boot camp and certainly unlike anything she had seen in her year of service. She ignored him as best she could when they got in the Lanayru M4A2 and immersed herself in the parts she could see from the driver's seat. The most obvious problem was a misaligned periscope, but there was likely something more wrong with it or it wouldn't have been abandoned like this.

She opened her baggage to see what they had to work with. Extra rations would have been nice, but instead there were perishable goods that had the faint smell of smoke wafting out of the first bag. Probably three or four meals worth for each of them. A field medical kit with little more than trauma bandages and some morphine. If things got that bad they were dead for sure. Her kit was undamaged but was designed to repair Hylian machines. The small kit from under the co-driver's seat would be more useful. Her own pack had some rations and a similar first aid kit supplemented with alcohol.

"What's in your bag, Forrester?" she asked. Maybe he had something of use.

He settled further into the gunner seat and closed his eyes.

"Standard pack. Rifle. Canteen. First Aid. Shovel. Ammo. Pistol. Rations. Blanket. Cigarettes. Ma'am."

Technically not insubordinate. The lists soothed her frazzled nerves. When in doubt, make a list. When the air smells of death and sweat and burning rubber, make a list. When you've seen bloody spots on the ground where your subjects lay dying, make a list. When you're locked in a tank with a stranger with a gun, make a list.

To be fair to Sgt. Forrester, he seemed trustworthy. He was rude and gruff, but followed her where she wanted to go and was clever enough to inspect the machine before he just climbed in like her dead partner. She just left his body there. She didn't even look to see if there was anything she could salvage for his family. Self-recrimination ate her from mind to heart.

"Are you alright?" Sgt. Forrester had come up to her from behind without her noticing. His eyes were soft and concerned and scanned her head to toe. He seemed to be assessing her physical and mental condition with one efficient glance. He didn't seem satisfied with the results when he was done. His hand hovered over her shoulder for a moment before retracting back to his knee. "Is this your first time out? There's no shame in snapping your cap looking at all this. I wouldn't judge you for crying even, the Goddess knows I've wanted to more than once."

Zelda didn't want to feel better. She wanted to curl up and wallow in self-pity. But he was kind and she couldn't help but be comforted by his words. She gave him a wan smile and gave herself a little shake.

"I'm fine. Thank you," she said a little more prim than she had planned, "This is my first day out, but I've been in the service for almost a year. I didn't expect... Well I thought it would be different. I've never been to the front before."

"Little more than the front, I reckon. We seem to have wandered past the front and into the back again. This hunk of metal gonna get us back? I've never been in a tube so roomy. We could..." he glanced at her and changed what he was going to say, "We could throw a party in here."

"Yes, well. There's definitely a few things that need fixing. We'll be here overnight at least. Might need to look for some replacement parts. I'll know more when I open her up." Zelda replied. She thought for a moment then thrust her hand in his direction. "I'm Zelda. What's your name?" She wasn't going to miss another name.

"Link, ma'am."

They shook. Link's hand was warm.

Link

Zelda was a surprisingly good mechanic. She pulled apart the busted periscope and spilled metal innards across the ground like the first slice into a pot pie. It didn't seem like a complicated piece of equipment until he saw all the pieces dumped unceremoniously on the floor of the otherwise pristine cabin. She poked at one of the mirrors with a wrench she pulled from her bag until she was satisfied. Link thought it looked exactly the same as when she started poking at it, but she's the expert.

She bent over nicely to see the track the periscope swivelled on to view side to side. Since her back was turned, Link let his eyes wander over the view she provided. So it was a surprise when a loud clang echoed through the still cabin. It rang like a bell for a moment before Zelda reeled back and whacked the track again with a hammer that had appeared in her hand while he was distracted.

"What are you doing?!" Link asked incredulously, "You're gonna break it!"

She ignored him and reeled back where he caught her hand before she could thrust forward and hit the track again.

"Hey!" She screeched, "Let go! It's almost fixed!"

She yanked against his hold and he tightened his grip.

"You can't do that! What if it breaks? We need that periscope so I can see while I drive this thing back."

She stopped flailing against him for a moment and he suddenly noticed their position. He was holding her arm over her head and had pulled her by the waist to press her back flush against him. There was very little space between them and it was completely inappropriate, but if he loosened his grip she might hit the hull with her hammer again. Or him. Either way, he kept his grip tight and imagined she didn't feel soft and plump and warm. She didn't seem to be having the same problem.

"You drive?! I'll be driving."

"You? I know how to drive these things. You're just a mechanic. You'll be on the radio."

"No, I'll be driving. No one is going to be on the radio. You will be sitting in the back and manning the gun. I can't shoot that thing and there's no way we're getting back without alerting the enemy. When we've crossed the lines then I'll man the radio."

Right. That made sense. He released her body and immediately used his hand to push the hair out of his face. He needed to find out how to fire this thing quickly. She used his lapse to throw her whole body forward and hit the periscope track one more time with all her body weight. She inspected her hack-job and seemed satisfied with the level of damage inflicted. The periscope was reassembled in minutes and she gave him a smug look when it swivelled from side to side smoothly. Minx.

"How do you boys sleep in this heat? I know sometimes you're in here for days. It's suffocating." She asked while sitting down delicately in the drivers seat. It was strangely feminine compared to the way she trudged around while working. She clasped her hands and draped her legs elegantly to the side as if they were sitting in a nice restaurant instead of huddled in a tank beyond the front.

He shook himself. "We don't. I usually sleep on the ground outside. But, we'll have to keep buttoned and tough it out in here. "

Link tried to seem nonchalant as he unbuttoned the first few buttons on his uniform and removed his boots. Every movement felt unrefined compared to her effortless presence. It was going to be a long, hot, uncomfortable night. The width of the cabin wasn't wide enough to lay completely flat, but it was close. He couldn't remember a time that he wished he was shorter. Zelda wasn't faring much better. She was a little taller than him and seemed reluctant to sleep sitting against the wall as he was preparing to do. He mostly didn't watch as she pulled off her shirt to reveal a white undershirt and remarkably toned arms. Link suppressed a smile when she bundled it into a cushion for her distracting bottom. Zelda's shoulder brushed his before he realised that the only place for her to sit was squished next to him, jammed into the console and with her feet pressed against the small step on the other side into the turret. She was soft and warm against his side. He pulled his bandana off his head and offered it to her. Anything to keep her soft hair from brushing him all night long and shifting his dreams to images of her.

Part 2

#rainworks #loz #legend of zelda #zelink #zelda

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i-psofacto · 6 months

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You have now entered Frankenstein Friday! Featuring graphics courtesy of GifCities! Full links below for their origins.

Graphics from:

[Ann's Halloween page] (*Auto-plays music)

[Let's Dance!] (*Auto-downloads music)

[Sugarshaka's Monster Mash] (*Auto-plays audio)

[Elizabeth's Animation Page: Halloween]

[Mike Skellenger's Pumpkin patch] (*Flashing warning)

[Ichabod's Realm] (*Auto-downloads music)

[Frankenstein]

The "Frankenstein Friday" graphic was made using flamingtext.com. Most graphics' sources aren't their original artists unless otherwise specified- for example I think the one on Elizabeth's page (with the blue background) was made by her. Such is the nature of file hosting I guess!

#frankenstein #frankenstein friday #frankenstein's creature #halloween #old web #gif #transparent #ipso post

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ganymedesclock · 2 years

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hat is your avatar?

Oh! My avatar is the player character from Dead Cells, the Beheaded.

Specifically taken from the Fatal Falls DLC trailer, it's him hanging out with one of the game's optional pets, the Biter. (if you follow the link, warning for blood and relatively toony violence. also the biter does die very early on, but nothing is shown besides the ribbon)

Dead Cells is a game I am quite fond of, so in the off chance you are unaware: it's a roguelike game where you play a headless, immortal prisoner stuck in a time loop during a zombie plague. It has a breadcrumbs approach to lore and storytelling where most of what you find is through optional lore rooms, and is, at least in my opinion, a visually gorgeous game that uses a blend of pixel art and rotoscoping.

The game maintains a tone with a lot of gallows humor, but it manages to do so without a real sense of heartlessness. That said, it is a very bleak world featuring a lot of frank depictions of prison brutality, the aftermaths of executions, an unjust social system, a rather unpleasant epidemic, and basically total collapse of the island's population. The relative lightheartedness shown in the animated trailers is there, but a lot of it is that you are playing a character who has witnessed and experienced enough death that he's mostly burnt out to the horror of it.

Most of the love I feel for the game is in its mechanics- it has a swift-paced and very rewarding combat system that encourages you to get clever with your loadout. It IS a game that prides itself on being "tough but fair", and most notably, one of the recent free updates from the game involved a huge package of different accessibility settings including the ability to manipulate the UI to a great degree, change the contrast on the foreground vs. background, outline characters, switch to a dyslexia-friendly font, add more forgiving windows on parries, auto-hit functions, and the option to get knocked back to the start of the level instead of all the way back to the beginning, and none of these options disable achievements.

There's a lot of love put into its construction and as someone who does not have that much experience with roguelikes, I've logged 245 hours of gameplay on it as of this post.

If you're interested, I'd recommend checking out the animated trailers, as IMO they do a very good job of indicating the overall tone and spirit of the game. The one thing that gets done in the trailer that you can't do ingame is the pan-chucks from The Bad Seed, and they are actively adding those in the next update.

#Dead Cells #there is so much I could say about this game #but [wiggles fingers] ooooo you wanna play Dead Cells #the paid DLC are like five bucks a pop also #whole game is VERY affordable and they have a huge number of free updates to only four dlcs and you can play the game without any of them #not only is there a real frying pan weapon it is actually really good

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snappedsky · 1 year

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Borderlands: Skies the Ultimate Treasure Hunter

Moxxi has a proposition for Skies.

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

The Handsome Jackpot: Introduction

Previously

“So where are we going today?” Skies asked as she followed Jack out of his office.

“The happiest place in the galaxy,” Jack replied, leading her to the fast travel station. He punched in a code and motioned for her to go ahead. Skies cocked her head curiously before using the station.

She appeared in another office much like Jack’s: large, opulent, and heavily decorated with his face. The surrounding walls were made completely of glass and looked out at what appeared to be a city of gold in a space station. It shone brightly, coloured lights dancing into the darkened sky. Just outside the station were two black holes swirling into each other.

“Wow,” Skies breathed in awe.

“Beautiful, right,” Jack said as he approached her. “Welcome to the Handsome Jackpot, my casino and pleasure centre. Just don’t play any of the games- they’re to-ote-tally rigged.”

Skies chuckled with amusement as she turned to follow Jack out of the office. They both stopped as a tiny, well-dressed man approached.

“Ah, H-Handsome Jack, sir, welcome back,” he said in a nasally voice.

“Pretty Boy!” Jack cheered, “Skies, this is Pretty Boy. He’s like a court jester. Pretty Boy, Skies is my guest today. Say something funny for her.”

“Ah, um, well...” Pretty Boy stammered as he fumbled with some cue cards from his pockets. “What uh...what does a baby computer call its father? Data!”

Jack and Skies stared at him, unamused.

“You’re lucky your face is so funny, Pretty Boy, or I’d throw you out the airlock,” Jack grunted.

Pretty Boy withered beneath his gaze.

Skies grinned. “So, you’re Jack’s dancing jabber then. Well, thing’s could be worse. You could be short and ugly- oh, wait.”

“Ha!” Jack guffawed, clapping Skies on the back. “She’s funnier than you, Pretty Boy. Come on, Skies, let’s hit the Vice District. I’ll buy you a drink and a dance.”

As they walked past, Pretty Boy glared daggers into their backs. Someday, somehow, he swore he would have his revenge for this constant humiliation.

---

Now

The Sky Rider approaches Sanctuary III, directed by it’s auto-navigation system. When it get close enough, it automatically releases a signal. Within the larger ship, an alarm goes off in the cargo hold, warning everyone nearby to stay out. A force field opens up around the hatchway, vacuum sealing it as the hatch opens. The Sky Rider slips inside, settling neatly on the floor. The hatch closes, the force field drops, and everyone continues about their day.

Inside the cockpit of the Sky Rider, the pilot’s seat is completely empty. This is because she’s in the backroom, fast asleep in her bunk.

Skies the Ultimate Treasure Hunter had been away for a few weeks on a treasure hunting binge. She had been going non-stop from planet to planet, collecting gold, jewels, and artifacts. When she finally felt burnt out, she decided to return to her new home.

She’s conked out on her bed, snoring lightly and dreaming of treasures and murder. Her sweet sleep is unfortunately interrupted however, by a rapping at her door, and she blinks awake. Groaning, she rolls out of bed and shambles out of her room to the ship’s hatch. She opens it to find the Vault Hunters- Moze, Zane, Amara, and FL4K.

“Nice jammies,” Zane comments.

Skies looks down at her clothes: soft socks, fuzzy, black pants, and an old, baggy Hyperion sweatshirt.

“What do you guys want?” Skies asks, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

“Moxxi wants to see you,” Moze replies, “she has a proposition.”

“Hm, colour me intrigued,” she remarks, “tell her I need like ten minutes to get cleaned up.” She pauses to sniff under her arm and winces. “Make that twenty.”

The Vault Hunters leave and Skies goes into her washroom, yawning as she starts the shower.

She quickly cleans up, washing away weeks old blood stains- not hers. She changes into clean clothes, grabs her weapons, and leaves the Sky Rider, locking it behind her.

As Skies makes her way through Sanctuary III up to Moxxxi’s, many of the citizens greet her; they wave, ask how she’s doing and where she’s been. She replies happily.

The Vault Hunters are sitting at the bar when Skies arrives. Moxxi is behind it and she leans against it as Skies approaches.

“Welcome back, Skies,” she smiles.

“Thanks, Mox,” she replies as she sits on a stool. “So what’s up?”

“I have a proposition for you,” she explains, “not a job. Just something I think we can both benefit from.”

“Go on.”

“Do you know the Handsome Jackpot?” “Of course, Jack’s casino. He brought me there a couple times.”

“It’s one of the few things Jack left behind that I’m interested in,” Moxxi says then winks. “Except you, of course.” Skies smirks.

“So if you help the Vault Hunters take it over for me, I’ll let you have whatever treasure hides inside.” “It’s a tempting offer, Mox,” Skies muses, “Jack did treat the place like his own personal piggy bank. There’s just one problem. With Helios and Control Core Angel gone, it’s now the most secure fortress in the galaxy. Everything with locks on it needs Jack’s face, voice, and DNA to open it. We’d never be able to take control.”

“I figured as much,” Moxxi replies, “fortunately, you have a friend that can help rectify this.” Skies scowls. “Oh, so that’s the real reason you want me help.”

“Of course not. I would’ve accepted your help even if we didn’t need him.”

“I can’t ask Tim to do this. He’s happy now. He even found a way to live peacefully with Jack’s face. He got out of this life and I will not drag him back in.”

“Come on,” Moxxi urges, “it won’t hurt to just ask him. Let me, and if he says no, we’ll drop it.” Skies scoffs. “If you ask him, then there’s no way he’ll say no.”

Moxxi smiles gently but with a sinister look in her eye and holds out her hand. Skies groans, rolling her eyes as she grabs her ECHO communicator and calls Timothy Lawrence.

“Wassup?” he answers.

“Tim, listen, just remember, it’s always okay to just say no,” Skies says quickly before Moxxi swipes the device.

“Timothy,” she purrs.

“Wha-Mo-Moxxi?” he stammers with surprise.

“I need a great big favour from you,” she says in a sultry tone, “and if you help me, I’ll repay you in any way you ask.”

Skies and the Vault Hunters groan with annoyance.

“Uh um wha-what do you need...?” Timothy asks.

“Jack left behind an old casino,” Moxxi explains, “I just need your face and DNA to unlock any security measures so I can take over the casino. You won’t be alone, of course, Skies and the Vault Hunters will be going too.” “Um....” he hesitates.

“You don’t have to do it, Ti-!” Skies tries to warn but Moxxi slams her face into the counter top, cutting her off.

“Y-yeah, I guess...I can help...”

“Fantastic!” Moxxi cheers, “just fast travel to Sanctuary- I can send you codes- and from here you can all go to the casino together.”

“O-okay,” Timothy replies and hangs up.

Moxxi hands Skies her ECHO back. She swipes it angrily, rubbing her face.

“What are you so worried about?” Moxxi asks, “you’ll make sure no harm comes to him, right?”

Skies grumbles and leaves in a huff. The Vault Hunters follow close behind.

“I have to admit, I am a bit confused,” FL4K says.

“As am I,” Amara adds, “this Timothy is clearly a friend of yours. He has Jack’s face...? Like as a trophy?”

“It’s hardly a trophy,” Skies replies, “Tim was one of Jack’s doppelgangers- the first and the last. It made his life a living hell, having to work for Jack, even after he died. He finally found a way to leave peacefully- making parody movies of Jack’s life, which are hilarious by the way. I hate having to drag him into this.”

They approach the fast travel station and Skies leans against a nearby table, glowering angrily. But her fury quickly subsides, to be replaced with excitement, as the station turns on and someone digistructs in.

Skies giggles happily and leaps into his arms before he’s even fully in. “Tim tam!”

Timothy smiles and hugs her back, spinning her off her feet. “Skies! It’s been so long.”

“Well, somebody’s been busy being a successful actor.”

“And somebody else has been busy being a successful treasure hunter.” They both laugh as they split up. “You look good,” Skies comments.

“As good as Jack?” Timothy asks.

“Jack wishes he looked this good.”

They laugh again, squeezing each other’s arms. Behind them, Zane awkwardly clears his throat, catching their attention.

“Oh, right,” Skies says and steps back, motioning to the Vault Hunters. “Tim, this is Moze, Amara, Zane, and FL4K. Kids, this is Timothy Lawrence.” “I’ve heard a lot about you guys,” Timothy says, waving politely.

“All good, I hope,” Moze replies.

“Well...good for a Vault Hunter.” They suddenly feel the ship lurch and look out the window to see they’ve entered hyper space.

“We must be on our way to the casino,” Skies says, “come on, we’ll use Ellie’s drop ship to get there.”

The group makes there way through the ship to the cargo hold. Many Pandoran citizens stare at Timothy, muttering to each other.

“Been a long time since I got stares like that,” Timothy mutters.

“Ignore them,” Skies demands, “they used to stare at me too.”

“So uh what are we expecting from this place?” he asks, “enemies?”

“Who knows,” Amara replies, “so be prepared for anything.”

“Should be lots of fun though,” Zane grins.

When they reach the cargo hold, they start to go to the drop ship when Skies stops. “Ah, hold on a sec.”

She quickly goes into the Sky Rider and comes back out, holding Jack’s mask. “We’ll probably need this,” she says as she tucks it into her coat.

They all squeeze into the drop ship. Ellie gives them a salute before sending it off. They watch through the window as they approach the bright and shining space station and get caught in a tractor beam.

“The casino’s got a hold of you,” Moxxi warns through their ECHO communicators. “Strap in.”

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #borderlands fanfiction #borderlands au #borderlands oc #myocs #myart

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