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Little Ziylal doodle because we need more Ziylal art in the trek fandom

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Image Description: A traditional pencil drawing of two people on a beach. The leftmost person is a Jem'Hadar wearing swim shorts patterned with puzzle pieces. Ze is smiling, and has a long scar over hir left eye. The person next to hir is an Aenar wearing a striped speedo. She is smiling widely and has his hand on the other's shoulder. He is covered in body hair, and has nipple and belly button piercings. Aer antennae are curved toward each other in an expression of love and happiness. Both characters are fat. The two both have tails, which are entwined between them. End ID.

My Star Trek OCs, Amitid'som (ze/hir) and Avyvoll (any) at a beach! Not pictured: Avyvoll having to get dunked in an ice bath and spending six hours in the full-body dermal regenerator after finding out the hard way what sunburn is. But it was xyr choice to wear a speedo to the beach with zero melanin, so.

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Little doodle i felt like doing (please ignore the horrible anatomy or else i will Die)

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Reverse Icarus

Isn't it funny

how we only remember part of Daedalus's warning–

"Do not fly too close to the sun, for it will melt your wings" - perhaps for our own reassurance.

Perhaps another Icarus, in another myth,

would have been so entranced with the beauty of the sea

its rich blackness, foamy whitecaps, beckoning depth,

that he would fly too low,

would wet his wings–

and, ironically–

fall to the arms of just what had ensnared his eye.

Isn't it funny

how Icarus rises so readily to the tongue when rich men drown in pursuit of thrill

yet when poor folk drown,

reflected in the eyes of a dozen unmoving coast guards,

no myth is prescribed to their lives

no grand tragedy of human foibles

when, indeed, Icarus himself was fleeing imprisonment?

Isn't it funny

how the sea holds so many of humanity's sins?

Ships, lost to hubris and warfare and luck,

Bodies, lost to adipocere and sharks and sediment,

Plastic, lost bastard child of an overbalanced tyrant,

Oil, lost grave of earthlings come before.

They say carbon emissions will turn the seas to acid

eating alive our neighbors and long-dead Icaruses alike.

Perhaps the ocean, then, is the great equalizer

She swallows billionaires and refugees all the same

And the way she's rising, well

She'll swallow us all in the end.

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Self-Portrait as Biopsy

If I were to rend open my sternum and the congealed blood were to ooze out like dark syrup like it does in the movies would my heart finally beat clear?

Perhaps this ache is one that needs a wound to cure it, like a staph infection, lanced with a needle, or an excision, cutting the rot from the root.

Perhaps I am an infection after all; not on Earth, but in my body, electric virus in the brain, eating away at the organs.

My body, perfect machine, animal true, invaded by a presence it cannot hope to fight with its protein-water-salt war machines.

The enteric nervous system is called "the brain of the gut", and perhaps therein is where the confusion lay; tanks and bombs of macrophages and neutrophils trawled my intestines, instead of my brain.

Scorched Earth, burn out the infection, fever-sweat drowning the enemy, but they were off target; there was only the swelling of civilian casualties, the enemy was hiding in the telegraph wires.

The fight had never been one way; razor wire slashed at their soldiers and poison crept through the air, blockades starved cities and soldiers alike.

Perhaps this weight that sits behind my ribs is Me, in all my cancerous glory, finally cornered in this war of attrition. 

CPR almost always cracks the ribs, breaks the xyphoid process from the sternum, in pursuit of resuscitation.

Perhaps the splintering of my own ribcage could resuscitate my body, free it of the fever it has harbored for years.

If finally all that is Me bleeds out through my chest, will I be cured?

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Decided to start posting my poetry here so here goes--

Carbohydrates

Amino acids, carbon & nitrogen, hydrogen & oxygen

Protein chains, sugar & salt, starches & vitamins

All protons on neutrons, electrons on atoms

Energy & chemicals & enzymes & peptides

Digestion & blood, sugar & fat

You're alive, you're alive, you're alive

Folds of your stomach, cells upon cells

Carbon on carbon on carbon, my dear

Patterned like snowflakes, woven like thread

Crystalline & fluid & patchwork & fibrous

Organelles & cytoplasm, ATP & DNA

Tapestry of life, infinitesimal, infinite

Evil's nowhere to be found here;

The only toxins lie with starvation–

Only flowers grow here.

Starches & sugar & fat & salt

You're alive, you're alive, you're alive–

Isn't it beautiful?

The pinch of soft 'round your middle, your subcutaneous tissue?

All carbon on carbon on carbon again

Health is in thriving, happiness in indulgence, my dear

The world's in the toast crumbs on your chin.

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Image Description: A monochromatic acrylic painting of Sonequa Martin-Green in black and white. The painting is from the shoulders up, and she is facing right. She is wearing a feather boa and a black dress, and she is smiling slightly. End ID.

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Image Description: A monochromatic acrylic painting of T'Pol from Star Trek Enterprise in shades of blue. It is from the shoulders up, and she is facing forward. End ID.

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Take Your Daughter To Work Day was henceforth banned

[Image ID: A digital drawing of the NX-01's engine room. Trip Tucker is in the foreground kneeling next to a gray panel, fixing it with a glowing stick. Behind him, Elizabeth is attempting to climb out of a floating bassinet in pursuit of an anti-gravity ball. Travis is running toward her with a distressed expression. Trip is oblivious to this happening. End ID]

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The cowgirl T'Pol we were robbed of in North Star

[Picture ID: A digital drawing of T'Pol from Star Trek Enterprise wearing Deanna Troi's Durango outfit from A Fistful Of Datas. She is wielding a double-barrelled shotgun and has a pistol in her holster. The background is yellow and orange.. End ID]

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Travis can have a boyfriend and a girlfriend as a treat

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Fact

- Vulcan is hot and arid, being pretty much a desert planet

Fact

- Humans prefer cool and slightly humid atmospheres

Conclusion

- If T’pol was cranky, it was because she was cold on the Enterprise since she was wearing a catsuit for some reason. Get that girl a comfy sweater. (There’s a reason Spock had so many)

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I've been sucked back into Star Wars against my will. Anyway here's some nonsense

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Happy Birthday to Data Soong!

[Image Description: A digital drawing of Data Soong, Geordi La Forge, and Lal Soong sitting on a red gingham picnic blanket in the middle of a green grassy field. There is a sparkling lake in the distance, lined by yellow sand with a thick forest on the horizon.

Data is sitting cross-legged with Spot on his lap. He is petting her. He is wearing a dark blue jacket with black buttons and patches on the sleeves. The patches on the right sleeve are the nonbinary flag, the autistic flag, the asexual flag, and the MLM flag. There is a cat face patch and heart patch on his left sleeve. He is wearing light blue pants and gray socks. He is wearing a pink party hat and a gold ring on his left ring finger. He is looking at Lal lovingly and smiling.

Geordi is sitting across from Data in a short-sleeved blue knee-length dress and striped socks. He is eating a sandwich and wearing a gold ring on his left ring finger.

Lal is sitting next to Geordi and Data, sitting cross-legged with her hands in her lap. She is wearing a long-sleeved lavender crop-top with 'Bedazzled' written on it in gold, green pants, green socks, and a necklace with a heart pendant. She is talking happily.

There is a round yellow cake with chocolate icing and a pink candle sitting in between all three of them, and a picnic basket off to the side. Sunlight is streaming down from above. In the corner of the drawing, a watermark reads "Convenient Plot Device" in cursive. End ID]

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Inspiration:

@juani-de-molina

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Traced Hoshi study with the nonbinary flag

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Happy 25th birthday to Tom and Janeway's Lizard babies!