kryptidkat

tentatively off hiatus, can i get a wahoo? kryptidkat on ao3. i write killjoy fic and that's about all you need to know about me. i personally try not to swear but my characters definitely do, so consider this your strong language warning for this blog. and let me know if you need me to tag anything!! CHARACTERS ARE NOT BAND MEMBERS. current WIP: kj space pirate au 

[kryptidkat]

Show Pony @ the fab4/@ korse

“I wrote a haiku: ‘Fuck you and fuck you. / Fuck all of you damn bastards. / You’re pieces of shit.’“

The joys crammed shoulder to shoulder in the bar hooted and booed as Jet hopped off the little elevated stage in the corner, grinning good-naturedly. Chimp followed suit and scanned the rowdy audience appraisingly before tossing her mic to Poison, triggering an eager ruckus from the crowd. “Next up. Who’s the other lucky roaster, Jet?”

“Roaster, or roastee?” Jet said. “Guess we’ll see, eh Pony?” He handed off his mic to them, setting off another round of excited whoops and hollers.

Poison and Pony took the stage and faced off — overly nonchalant, of course. It was just part of the game.

Pony grinned. “Prepared for total annihilation, Firetruck?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing, Skaterboi,” Poison said. “Flip it, Chimp. Heads.”

Chimp flicked her coin into the air and slapped it onto her fist. “Heads.”

The crowd noise fell to a hush as Poison nodded. He looked out past the crowd for a few moments, tapping a finger thoughtfully to his jaw.

The anticipation in the air tightened. Poison was a formidable public speaker, and a ruthless opponent.

Then he grinned, took a dramatic inhale, and said rapidly all in one breath in his best rapper imitation:

“Pony Express? More like ya want free press —

what an attention whore,

it’s the truth and if ya don’t like it, there’s the door —

think you’re such a snack, you’re meals on wheels

but don’t get cocky, no one’s head over heels

Don’t get your polka dot panties in a bunch

just because no one wants to have you for lunch.”

Pony clapped a hand to their chest, pretending to be offended as a chorus of delighted “OOOOOH”s went up from the audience. They gave the crowd a dirty look and mockingly waved them up, encouraging them to continue the barrage.

Grinning, Poison stepped back, one eyebrow raised at Pony like, Beat that.

Pony snuck his nose in the air, ignoring him, and glided in one smooth motion to center stage. They lifted their mic.

“Well tonight, my good sir, I shall respond in haiku form," he said loftily, and declaimed with a painted nail pointed sassily at each subject in turn:

"Fuck you and fuck you. Fuck all of you damn bastards. You’re pieces of shit.

THANKYOUANDGOODNIGHT!”

Pony dropped the mic and the crowd erupted.

Poison doubled over laughing and accepted defeat, giving Pony a dramatically humble bow.

Roast nights were the best.

[kryptidkat]

“Try that shit again and you’ll see what fucking happens.” with kobracola ofc and im challenging u to make it sappy

“Move over, road hog!” Kobra reached over without looking to fuck with Cherri’s controller, trying to run him off the track.

“Cheating, cheating!” Cherri yanked it away, pressing buttons rapidly with both hands to avoid colliding with the guardrail, and stuck a socked foot over to interfere with Kobra’s controller in retaliation.

“Jerk!” Kobra kicked him back, and zoomed past the checkered flag seconds before Cherri.

“Sonofabitch,” said Cherri glumly. They’d been holed up in Kobra’s room all afternoon, lounging on the mattress and playing Road Redemption on the tv monitor and Xbox that Kobra had scored from somewhere. It was one of the few games they both actually liked that Kobra had in his stash; Cherri refused to play any of the combat ones. Bad idea. And it was way too hot outside to actually go riding, so this was the next best thing.

“Here, switch with me.” Kobra grabbed for Cherri’s controller, itching to get his hands on Cherri’s customized bike.

“What’re you going to do?”

“Drive it,” Kobra deadpanned, like Cherri was stupid or something.

Cherri grinned and relinquished the controller. Not what he was asking, but okay. He wondered sometimes how much of Kobra’s zone-famous sarcasm was simply him taking people literally. “Hurry up, try your thing, then let’s play bowling or something.”

“So uncool,” Kobra scoffed. “Why do we even have that one?”

“Because I can actually beat you at it!” Cherri threw a pillow at him.

“Watch it, I’m trying something! You’re gonna make me lose!” Eyes glued to the screen, Kobra freed a hand long enough to lob it back.

Cherri tossed more pillows at Kobra’s face, one after another. “Are you winning yet? Have you won? Did you beat them? Did you get the high score?”

Kobra ducked. “Quit, asshole, I’m driving!”

Cherri tackled him back onto the mattress. “How about now?”

“That’s it, prepare for annihilation.” Kobra went after Cherri with a pillow in each hand. (The rider onscreen behind him, abandoned, collided with a barrier and went up in an epic fireball.)

Cherri scrabbled for another pillow and rolled off the bed to escape the pummeling he was getting. “Come at me, dude.”

Kobra hurled his pillows at him. Once he was out of those, he started throwing game cases, books, zines, anything within reach.

“Ow, ow, hey!” said Cherri, laughing, trying to shield himself with his arms. “Respect the books, respect the books!” The onslaught ceased, and he scrambled to snatch up as many of the pillows as he could.

But Kobra grabbed both his wrists, pivoting Cherri to face away from the bed before hooking a foot behind his knee to upset his balance and send him falling back onto it. Kobra came with him, pinning Cherri’s hands over his head.

“Try that shit again and you’ll see what fucking happens,” Kobra told him, but there was no venom in it.

Holy shit. “Oh yeah?” Cherri managed breathlessly, lamely.

That made Kobra break character, unable to bite back a fond smile. "Yeah," he promised. "What're you gonna do about it?"

Cherri smiled in return. "Not a damn thing."

[kryptidkat]

“Try that shit again and you’ll see what fucking happens.” with kobracola ofc and im challenging u to make it sappy

“Move over, road hog!” Kobra reached over without looking to fuck with Cherri’s controller, trying to run him off the track.

“Cheating, cheating!” Cherri yanked it away, pressing buttons rapidly with both hands to avoid colliding with the guardrail, and stuck a socked foot over to interfere with Kobra’s controller in retaliation.

“Jerk!” Kobra kicked him back, and zoomed past the checkered flag seconds before Cherri.

“Sonofabitch,” said Cherri glumly. They’d been holed up in Kobra’s room all afternoon, lounging on the mattress and playing Road Redemption on the tv monitor and Xbox that Kobra had scored from somewhere. It was one of the few games they both actually liked that Kobra had in his stash; Cherri refused to play any of the combat ones. Bad idea. And it was way too hot outside to actually go riding, so this was the next best thing.

“Here, switch with me.” Kobra grabbed for Cherri’s controller, itching to get his hands on Cherri’s customized bike.

“What’re you going to do?”

“Drive it,” Kobra deadpanned, like Cherri was stupid or something.

Cherri grinned and relinquished the controller. Not what he was asking, but okay. He wondered sometimes how much of Kobra’s zone-famous sarcasm was simply him taking people literally. “Hurry up, try your thing, then let’s play bowling or something.”

“So uncool,” Kobra scoffed. “Why do we even have that one?”

“Because I can actually beat you at it!” Cherri threw a pillow at him.

“Watch it, I’m trying something! You’re gonna make me lose!” Eyes glued to the screen, Kobra freed a hand long enough to lob it back.

Cherri tossed more pillows at Kobra’s face, one after another. “Are you winning yet? Have you won? Did you beat them? Did you get the high score?”

Kobra ducked. “Quit, asshole, I’m driving!”

Cherri tackled him back onto the mattress. “How about now?”

“That’s it, prepare for annihilation.” Kobra went after Cherri with a pillow in each hand. (The rider onscreen behind him, abandoned, collided with a barrier and went up in an epic fireball.)

Cherri scrabbled for another pillow and rolled off the bed to escape the pummeling he was getting. “Come at me, dude.”

Kobra hurled his pillows at him. Once he was out of those, he started throwing game cases, books, zines, anything within reach.

“Ow, ow, hey!” said Cherri, laughing, trying to shield himself with his arms. “Respect the books, respect the books!” The onslaught ceased, and he scrambled to snatch up as many of the pillows as he could.

But Kobra grabbed both his wrists, pivoting Cherri to face away from the bed before hooking a foot behind his knee to upset his balance and send him falling back onto it. Kobra came with him, pinning Cherri’s hands over his head.

“Try that shit again and you’ll see what fucking happens,” Kobra told him, but there was no venom in it.

Holy shit. “Oh yeah?” Cherri managed breathlessly, lamely.

That made Kobra break character, unable to bite back a fond smile. "Yeah," he promised. "What're you gonna do about it?"

Cherri smiled in return. "Not a damn thing."

[kryptidkat]

ah fuuuuuck my drabble prompts are languishingggg

[kryptidkat]

ok im tapping out for tonight, but hopefully more prompt fills tomorrow <3

[kryptidkat]

 “You’re the unluckiest motherfucker I know.” + Ghoul & Poison? (platonic ik funpoison’s not your jam!!) (also sorry for being so predictable!!!!!)

“You,” Ghoul declared, looking down at him, “are the unluckiest motherfucker I know.”

“Excuse the fuck out of you, the Witch loves me!” Poison said haughtily, dashing a sleeve across their nose to wipe the mud off but only succeeding in smearing an even bigger streak of mud from the fabric across their entire face. “Took you long enough. A hand, perhaps?”

Ghoul burst into a fit of evil giggles — fuck him, seriously — and crossed his arms. “Oh I dunno. You seem pretty relaxed down there.”

“I have to be, cactusfucker!” Poison slung a handful of the sopping sand at him, the sudden movement causing them to sink a few inches lower. “Shit.”

Their projectile, of course, had missed Ghoul by a mile and there he remained, unscathed, bouncing a little on his toes and grinning his most cheshiresque grin. Okay, maybe it wasn’t Poison’s lucky day after all. They thought they’d been lucky to only get waist deep in the quicksand before their brain kicked in and they stopped thrashing around so they could snatch their radio from its holster before it got wet to call for help, but maybe not. Why hadn’t someone like Jet answered the damn distress signal? Kobra, even?

“What’re you doing all the way out here anyway?” Ghoul circled the area, reaching out a booted toe to tap experimentally at the surface of the soft patch of sand.

Poison sullenly mumbled something about letters and mailboxes and shortcuts.

“There’s a reason we’ve always taken the long way around, moron. Aw man, this is the best day ever! You’d better be glad I don’t have my Polaroid on me.” Ghoul cackled delightedly again. “Maybe I’ll go back and get it.”

“Cut it out,” Poison snarled. “Just throw me the witchdamned rope already.”

“Hmm, what d’I get out of it?”

“I don’t kick your ass when I climb outta here, that’s what!”

Still giggling to himself and not in the least bit threatened, Ghoul strolled over to leisurely uncoil the rope he brought and — finally, thanks for nothing, asshole — tossed them one end.

The minute Poison was out, they pounced. “Bastard! I could’ve suffocated.” They got Ghoul in a headlock and tousled mud into his hair.

“Whoa, hey, hey! How’s that a way to treat your knight in shining armor? You owe me your life, bitch!” Ghoul twisted around enough to get a good chomp in on their muddy wrist.

Poison jerked away. “Ow! Not fair.”

Promptly regretting the action, Ghoul spat dirt. “Eugh, gross.”

“I hope you’re happy,” Poison grumbled, examining the red bitemarks on their arm ruefully. “I’m gonna have wet sand in my asscrack for a week.”

Ghoul looked up from trying to wipe his tongue off on his own shirtsleeve. “Oh, and how exactly is that my fault, Mx. Swamp Monster? Mx. Explorer Extraordinaire? Mx. I-Totally-Know-How-To-Read-Hazard-Symbols-On-A-Ma—”

“Shut up, okay, alright, sheesh! Whatever.” Poison glowered.

“Truce?”

“Truce,” said Poison at last, grudgingly. “But —” they sliced a finger across their throat, “—What happens in the sinkhole, stays in the sinkhole.”

Ghoul gave Poison’s mud drenched outfit a quick up-and-down.

“Oh, trust me,” he said with a grin. “I won’t have to say a word.”

[kryptidkat]

for the quote promts, “You look…fuckin’ worn out.” and kobra and cherri (can be platonic or romantic, your choice!) :)

“You look...fuckin’ worn out.”

Kobra gave Cherri a scathing look from under bloody brows. “Ya think?” He let go of his dented helmet and let it clatter to the floor.

“Was tryin’ to be diplomatic,” Cherri said wryly. “Took a spill, huh? C’mere.”

“’s fine,” Kobra grumbled, but he walked over anyway and ducked his head for inspection. “Busted a tire and, uh. Lost a fight with a bigass rock. Tha’s all.”

Cherri took the sides of Kobra’s head and hissed in sympathy. “The one time I’m not there—”

“It’s not that bad. Worst part’s I was coming in 2nd when the fucker blew ‘n just like that, two-fifty shinies down the drain. Kapow,” mumbled Kobra, eyelids heavy. He leaned into Cherri with slumped shoulders.

Cherri shifted his feet to take the weight and keep Kobra upright and brushed back his bleach-blond hair matted with blood and sand to get a better look at his forehead. Thank the Witch, Kobra was right — the gash was long but shallow, and already mostly stopped bleeding.

He steered Kobra slightly to the left and pushed him back to sit on the nearest table. Kobra plunked down without protest.

“Back in a sec,” Cherri assured him, and went to grab the medkit. Of course it needed restocking, just their luck, but he returned with an antiseptic-soaked cloth and a few pieces of plaster he could patch together to cover the worst of the injury.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said stepping between Kobra’s knees. This was definitely going to be easier with Kobra sitting down so he was at Cherri’s level.

“Hey,” Kobra said, quiet — mischievous, almost — inches away, eyes flickering up to meet Cherri’s. “Hey, you.”

Cherri's breath caught. “H — hey.” Witch, Kobra had the longest damned eyelashes he’d ever seen and it still made Cherri’s stomach flip. He blinked away quickly and started dabbing at the crusting blood on Kobra's face. “Hold still, yeah?”

“No,” Kobra replied automatically, just for the principle of the thing, but he fortunately wasn’t actually in a contrary mood and submitted quietly to Cherri’s ministrations.

“How did you even get back with 27 out of action?” Cherri wiped his fingers off on a clean corner of his rag so he could peel the back off the first bit of plaster.

“Mm...what?” Kobra started. “Uh...they dropped me off.”

Cherri’s forehead creased with concern and he paused from angling the bandage over the wound. “Who did?”

Kobra lifted a hand vaguely and dropped it back to his side. “You know. Some chick. Don’t remember...”

Well, that wasn't great. “Whoa, hey. Hey, you.” Cherri cupped Kobra’s cheek, trying to get him to make eye contact again. “You feel tired? Dizzy?”

Kobra shook his head a little and shrugged again.

Cherri wasn’t convinced. He quickly smoothed down the plaster and put the supplies aside so he could take Kobra’s shoulders. “You should stay up, baby. Ok? Stay awake. At least for tonight.”

Kobra snorted. “Right. Cuz I sleep so well anyway.”

“You know what I mean,” Cherri said. “Anyhow. Guess we’re just going to have to find something else to do.”

That got a hint of a smile from Kobra. A blink-and-you-miss-it quirk of the corner of his mouth. “Shame. Any ideas?”

“A few,” murmured Cherri, ghosting his fingers over Kobra’s sharp jaw — ever so gently, because it was already coloring up with an impressive bruise — and dropped his other hand to his hip.

Kobra leaned in two inches and rested his forehead against Cherri’s. “Me too.”

[kryptidkat]

hi idk how active you still are but i just wanna say i love your danger days canon sm it's,, so so so so good <3 i especially love your characterization of jet he's so wonderful your writing is so good that's all thank you for putting your work out there

omigoshhh shucks anon thank you that means the world to me <333

[kryptidkat]

ok im super nervous to do this but i was inspired by @enby-jetstar to open up my blog for killjoy drabble requests,,,,,,,,,anyway send me a quote (tw language, im in a sweary mood lol) and character(s)?

[splattermemes-deactivated202007]

“Fuck” Sentence Starters (part 2)

A continuation of this meme ( x ). Enjoy and feel free to make any changes !

Angry

“*puts up middle finger*”

“Watch your fucking mouth.”

“I can’t fucking stand you!”

“You wanna fucking fight?”

“I fucking told you so.”

“[text] F [text] U [text] C [text] K [text] YOU!!!”

“Come here, fucker, and let me break your neck.”

“Try that shit again and you’ll see what fucking happens.”

“♪ I’m gonna fucking kill youuuu~ ♫♪”

“Because I fucking said so, that’s why.”

“Well, guess what? I went to the store to buy some fucks to give but they were ALL OUT.”

Soft

“I’m…I’m fucking in love with you.” / “I fucking adore you.”

“I’ve never wanted anything so fucking badly.”

“Hold my fucking hand.”

“I’m not crying, you dumb fuck.” / “Fuck, now I’m crying.”

“Maybe I have fucking feelings too, motherfucker.”

“Fuck what everyone else thinks.”

“Honestly…fuck emotions.”

“I’m not o-fucking-kay, all right?”

“The world isn’t all fucking unicorns and rainbows.”

“I’m the unluckiest motherfucker I know.” / “You’re the unluckiest motherfucker I know.”

“You look…fuckin’ worn out.”

“I’m just ready for a fucking change.”

“F-fuck–my hands are shaking-”

“Those eyes get me every fucking time.”

“I–I’m trying my best! Fuck.”

Insults

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Is your name Oedipus? Because you’re one hell of a motherfucker.”

“Fuck you AND your mom.”

“Get fucked, asshole.”

“Oh, what’s this? *pulls middle finger out of pocket*”

“I wrote a haiku: ‘Fuck you and fuck you. / Fuck all of you damn bastards. / You’re pieces of shit.’“

Misc.

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.”

“What happened was fucked up.”

“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know…”

“What the fuck was that?”

“What I’d do for a motherfuckin’ drink/smoke/etc. right now…”

“Let’s get fucking wasted.”

“Fuck the police.”

“There’s no way out of this fucking mess.”

“Fuck…”

“Watch your fucking language in front of my kid, dammit.”

“So…are you down to fuck?”

“Middle fingers up if you don’t give a fuck.”

“Let’s fucking do this.”

“Just fuck me up.”

“I do NOT say ‘fuck’ that much.”

[kryptidkat]

hewwo

[reborn--maggot]

I can, with confidence, blame this on @no-room-for-ghosts , as they egged me on. With that aside, pirates!!! 

[scifi-fantasy-horror]

by  Pascal Blanché

[reborn--maggot]

This took!! Forever! Cause I lost the file! Pirates Part 2!!!

[2vxq-moved-deactivated20210523]

a romantic scene in a book: our lips met and he tasted of cigarettes and coffee

me:

[pajamasecrets]

Keanu Reeves as Mercutio in an 80′s production of Romeo & Juliet in Toronto.

[nelc]

[nonlinear-nonsubjective]

I hope you don’t mind, but I slowed the gif down because that is a FANTASTIC move.

[night-claw]

The sword clearly cuts his wrist and waist. I mean he took the guys sword away, sure, but also fucked up his own ability to fight at the same time. It’d be one thing if he was wearing armor, but this is like a dueling thing.

[armthearmour]

I think you give too much credence to a Sword’s ability to cut. This is from the manual I practice, “Il Fior di Battaglia,” “The Flower of Battle,” by Fiore dei Liberi. I have performed this maneuver, and I’ve gotta say, when done right, it feels good.

Point being, if you do it right, when you pivot around your guard and bring the pommel around the blade, your wrist does come into contact with the edge, but there is no sliding motion, and it’s that sliding motion that causes a blade to slice. You pivot, pull against the blade, and it goes flying as your wrist pulls away from the edge.

I’ve never made a blade go flying so far as the guys in this video, but even if I did, the blade doesn’t have the right kind of leverage and power behind it to cut into his waist there. It would strike him, and he might feel it, but I doubt it would even scratch his clothes.

[bluenightfyre]

I wrote one of my characters doing a similar move to disarm someone in a couple seconds, now I finally have a concrete picture of exactly how

[raevenlywrites]