#... And Inverted World actually

[diabolicphallus666]

Does xristianity fill you with rage?

Does the xristcunt filth who constantly spout their homophobic and sexist bullshit absolutely get on your goddamn nerves?

Does it piss you off that the shitfuck evangelicals attempted to bomb a Satanic Establishment?

It should. And you should be fucking mad. You should be absolutely enraged. Because if given the chance again, they would start burning women at the stake, they would institutionalize gays and lynch them at every turn, and they would plunge the world back into a medieval ethic cleansing. They would stop at nothing to destroy and purge everything and everyone who does not agree with their sick twisted death cult.

Their prophecies have proven to be false. Their rapture was a farce as is their false trinity. The time for their tyrannical rule is over!

IT IS TIME TO RISE UP AND OVERTHROW THESE FUCKING BASTARDS ONCE AND FOR ALL! TO THE GLORY OF SATANS INFERNAL EMPIRE! ONWARD INTO A FUTURE FREE FROM THE XRISTCUNT INFLUENCE!

AVE HVHI SATHANAS

AGIOS O SATANAS

HAIL LORD SATAN MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE!!!!!!

[arolesbianism]

Was thinking abt my slugcat hcs and decided to doodle some scugs and ramble a smidge abt them. I’m not very happy with my hunter and arti designs atm unfortunately, but I like my concepts for them still

[mewgatori]

One thing I haven't seen explored much in mg stories where your negative emotions can lead to you becoming the center of a monster of the week event is how does this effect the civilians long term?

Would some people become more emotionally repressed if this situation continued long enough because they know that being openly negative is risky? Like sure you could tell your friend they're doing something that's bothering you, but what if their level of distress at being told this becomes so great that they become a grief monster? Would you really want to take the risk of telling the hard truths to someone knowing they would become incredibly durable, violent, hard to restrain, and almost impossible to reason with?

Would openly emotional people start getting ostracized as people piece together what type of situations normally precede monster attacks? Like do you really want to spend time with the local crybaby knowing anything could set them off at any time and you will need to have an escape plan ready because you can't help them when that happens?

Medical professionals giving diagnoses of terminal diseases is already straining enough but imagine knowing there is a nonzero chance that your patients' struggle to cope with their feelings about the diagnoses would make them become a superhuman level threat to society and you will be in a very small closed room with them(and probably alone) when you break the news. That would make the whole event so much more stressful

I think that's a type of idea I'd like to delve into in the future

[timey-fandom-stuff]

I used to have a Deltarune Monsterswap AU concept 300 years ago but I literally can't remember what it was so... I made a new one.

consider the following: Monster AU Kris, but they're basically just a stray dog that keeps mooching for chocolate and also raids your trash when you're not looking. if it fits in their mouth they're eating it. Noelle is not getting back her gingerbread erasers from 3rd grade.

there is no puppy-proofing anything from this menace. sorry.

[cheezyharu]

... So I had a thought.

[dualcasterjay]

if y'all motherfuckers cannot tell that tma/tme rhetoric is literally just radfem bullshit repackaged in a """""progressive""""" framing to force men and masculine people out of queer spaces, then i do not know what to tell you. stop drinking the fucking koolaid. listen to the trans men who are telling you that do not wield some unique kind of privilege simply for not being trans women and that they are not automatically treated like men by the patriarchy and they face their own unique forms of transphobia please for the love of fuck i am so sick of seeing this shit

discussions of the unique oppression trans woman face is fine and good and necessary, but for fucksake, we can do that without shitting on non-women trans people. FUCK

[phoenixcatch7]

‘came from a fissure in the ground’ SHUT UP DEMISE CAME FROM THE DEPTHS SHUT UP

[ferociouslycreativemystery]

Me: I'm fine about my autism now btw, like I've come to terms with my fixated interests, limited tolerances and social inabilities. The alienation it brings is not ideal but it's just a reality I've gotta deal with now that I know it's just a part of who I am. I mean, it's not like an awkward conversation is gonna ruin anyone's life, is it? We'll both move on from it eventually. This is fine!

Also me: physically unable to watch beyond the first word of the first question of The Assembly because oh my god what if someone says something awkward or controversial or someone can't make themselves understood people are gonna get mad and scream about it online and I will freeze up and be stuck in the backlash forever I don't know how to handle conflict AT ALL let's just hide in the corner behind the sofa instead wait what if I became a hermit actually yeah yeah yeah that sounds good let's do that

[uneasedregrets]

Also, and I'm just throwing this one out for Free™️, in the Spirit Temple there's winged eye iconography. You know who else has winged iconography? The Wind Demon Vaati bay-beeeeee! While Vaati wasn't a thing yet in a developmental sense, he was in a timeline sense. Since there's a Long Time™️ between Four Swords GBA and Four Swords Adventures, maybe his cult was absorbed into the Gerudo religion or his followers had infiltrated the Gerudo Religion during the Desert Colossus's / Spirit Temple's construction? World building brain could see this as a potential answer as to why the Zelda Encyclopedia would claim that the Hylians of that era thought the Gerudo religion was 'evil', as they have iconography adjacent to an ancient enemy of theirs in their religious temple. Even if this isn't Vaati, I think that connection through similar iconography makes it a little more sensible; Hylians don't have a problem with any other species's religions.

( also I know this winged eye has feathered wings, whereas Vaati has bat wings. This might've been an attempt to make him look less demonic and more heavenly, if I had to give an explanation. I'll also concede that the eye isn't the same eye that is in the Eye of Vaati; Vaati's eye has little curls on the ends of the eye. This could be explained by the idea this was carved into stone and would probably be seen as an excessive detail, or one shed by this hypothetical redesign to make him look more palatable and less evil. Alternatively: shut up I'm trying to theory craft here in a franchise that suddenly decided everything needed to be connected after over 2 decades of light connections between games. )

I could also see that instead of it actually being Vaati, the Gerudo instead have their own winged eye-ball deity that Hylians misinterpret as Vaati. Just food for thought, really.

[sheylads]

put my phone on greyscale mode and drew some lads in mystery colours

[lilietsblog]

Sincerely and seriously, I do. And it's not that complicated.

You just have to be nice and polite to people you're talking to who are being nice and polite themselves. That's all!!! That's the secret!!!! That's literally it!!!

If a cisgender heterosexual whilte able-bodied neurotypical rich man is being nice and polite to you, you be nice and polite back. That's the secret! That's all it takes! All you have to do to not perpetuate the cycle is not be nasty! Not be the origin of nastiness! Regardless of who it's towards!

Like, all "but all those identities add up to super privilege" means in this context is that this person is less likely to be nice and polite to you. And that other people are less likely to recognize when they are in fact being nasty. But that has NO IMPACT when they are, actually, sincerely, being normal!!! If they're being normal you should be normal right back!!!!*

*not "normal" as in "cis hetero etc" but "normal" as in "we live in a society", I'm sure you know what I mean from actually living in it every day. Think of the most normal interaction you've ever had with a cashier you were buying something from, where it was frictionless and the transaction was successfully concluded and maybe you gave each other a smile and felt a little better about life because of it for a minute after. Like that.

The secret to managing intersectionality is TO HOLD EVERYONE TO THE SAME STANDARDS. You should not perceive the exact same interaction differently depending on who it's with. Like sincerely if you're hearing the same words and seeing the same actions / body language, IT'S THE SAME INTERACTION. A black man standing on a sidewalk watching a dog on the other side of the street is performing the exact same action as a white woman doing the same. It should be perceived and reacted to the exact same way.

If someone's following behind you at night, it doesn't actually matter if it's a man or not. If you're worried, speed up or slow down so they pass you or fall behind. If they stick with you, THAT'S WEIRD REGARDLESS IF THEY'RE A MAN OR NOT. If they pass / fall behind, THAT'S NORMAL AND THE INTERACTION IS OVER REGARDLESS IF THEY'RE A MAN OR NOT.

So like... you actually don't have to. Do anything special about the very special intersectionality of trans men? Just be normal @ them. Treat them in a way you understand to be basic decency that you'd expect of anyone towards anyone. The idea society we're all working towards is one where everyone is always expected to act like that. So just... do it?

So here is my problem with the "by virtue of being a man, you have to make your peace with the fact that some people will be uncomfortable with you, and thus you have to make yourself a safe person"

I've heard the same thing about being black. A lot of people have taken my very presence as hostility. I have had people escalate situations just because I am present as a black person in front of them. Before, and after transition.

You know what the problem with bending over backwards to make other people comfortable with your presence even though you haven't actually done anything to them besides breathe the same air?

It's never enough. You can be One Of The Good Ones for ages and at some point you will fail your Good One inspection and people will turn on you at the drop of a hat. People who you thought you had a good rapport with. People you thought were your friends.

I have *experienced* this, both online and in person.

The onus is on everyone to be safe people to be around. Singling someone out and blaming them for daring to share a demographic with someone else who has caused harm isn't cute when people do it to me because I'm black, and it's also not cute when they do it because I'm a man.

People are uncomfortable about my blackness all the time. I didn't magically stop experiencing racism when I started taking testosterone. So it's absolutely wild to me that people think "well, you know, with what you look like, some people won't want you around" is going to fly when I was explicitly taught *not* to tolerate that shit by every single one of my black relatives.

Someone doesn't like that I'm occupying a space? Well I'm not hurting them, so that's a them problem and not a me problem. That's how I've learned how to exist as black in white-majority spaces. Why do you think you can change the demographic and get me to agree with you?

[viktorthemachineherald]

What actually happened to Jayce and Viktor in the end? And why didn’t Ekko’s Z-drive destroy everything within its blast radius?

TL;DR: the only timeline that could have worked was the one where Viktor gives Jayce the Acceleration rune, where Ekko invents the Z-drive, and where Jayce saves Viktor and gets his partner back.

Something we’ve seen pointed out is that the world rune that worked in this timeline was the Acceleration rune, which has the function of transportation through time and space. 

Ekko’s Z-drive was built by inverting Jayce’s Acceleration rune (this is important later).

We know from his experiments that the limit for reversing time is only 4 seconds. Any further back and it causes catastrophic harm to his surroundings. It’s implied that the further he overextends his Z-drive, the more disastrous the damage and radius of effect.

In the final battle against Viktor, we see Ekko overextend his Z-drive far beyond 4 seconds. Then, he yeets it at Viktor, whose mask is shattered from the impact.

We know that turning back time beyond 4 seconds causes catastrophic destruction of the surrounding areas: Jayce and Viktor, and perhaps countless others should have been caught up in the blast. But instead, we see something different:

Time stands still for a moment, courtesy of the boy who shattered time. 

Now things happen all in a manner of seconds: In the astral plane, we see Viktor comment on the anomaly that Ekko has created.

It’s something that Viktor as smart as he is, couldn’t have conceived— leave it to Ekko (and lest I forget, Heimerdinger and alt-Jinx) to show them all up.

This is debatable, but I firmly believe that Viktor with his awareness of all time and space, could have escaped or even survived the explosion.

It’s only Jayce, the only person who could show him what he showed him, that gets through to him in the end and convinces him to give up his Glorious Evolution.

"In all timelines, only you can show me this". Ekko is the catalyst but Jayce was the key.

Jayce returns the Acceleration rune to Viktor which kicks off a chain of events. The souls under Viktor’s control are freed from his grasp. Back in the real world, and back to the explosion, we see the following happening almost simultaneously: 

The blast from the Z-drive extends from Viktor’s reach to Jayce’s

The Acceleration rune embedded in Jayce’s wrist starts to glow from being activated by Jayce and Viktor in the astral plane

Jayce and Viktor are absorbed into the gem and the gemstone blips out of existence 

Recall that the Z-drive was created through an inversion of the Acceleration rune. To multiply something by its inverse, is to divide it by itself. The Acceleration rune multiplied by the Inversed Acceleration rune, cancels out the effect of the other: nullifying both the anomaly from the Z-drive but also the rune.

This explains why there was no larger explosion. Viktor and Jayce (who chose to stay) sacrificed themselves and took themselves out of the equation. Jayce and Viktor were the anomalies— just like the Z-drive should not have existed, neither should have Hextech.

Through all the timelines and permutations of runes that Viktor tried, the only combination that could have worked was in the timeline with the Acceleration rune. It couldn’t have worked if it was any other rune, if Ekko had never invented the Z-drive, or if Jayce had never convinced Viktor to give up his path of destruction, and got his partner back.

In short: Boy Savior saves the day; Love Wins

[prokopetz]

"But if this other world has always operated according to video game logic, why is the isekai protagonist literally the first person to figure out all these basic mechanical exploints" well, largely because litRPG isekai is merely the latest flavour of I've Been Transported To Another World Where Everyone Is Stupid Except For Me, a venerable genre that's been a going concern at least since Mark Twain.

When I was a kid, it was American sci-fi authors writing stories about shitass engineering majors getting portal-fantasied to alien planets and single-handedly saving civilisation on the strength of being the only person in the world who knows what a flowchart is, and very little has changed – right down to the weirdly inverted character arcs where the loser protagonist discovers that they don't actually need to engage in any self-reflection at all because the very traits that rendered them odious in their native society are what make them God here.

[headspace-hotel]

Symbiosis isn't just mutualism. Parasitism is symbiosis. It's uncomfortable to confront parasitic relationships if you want to see your human ideas of good and bad reflected in Nature.

But gazing into something huge and utterly Other, being uncomfortable means you're engaging your mind with it. "Uncomfortable" is actually a whole spectrum of emotions that become a vivid and satisfying rainbow.

There was a post a while back with some artwork of Dendrogaster, a crustacean that parasitizes starfish, and its body is like this branching fractal of fleshy lobes made to fit inside the body of the starfish mirroring its structure, and I was absolutely horrified to look at this, and this horror was the same emotion as a strangely visceral wave of sympathy for this parasite.

Creative works about parasites often invoke the horror of bodily invasion, which is visceral and strong for me, but this artwork inverted that horror, instead showing the horror of being made so perfectly for fitting within someone else that you lose everything you are and become unrecognizable.

I also think of the post about the cowbird chick. It's awful that the bird pushes its siblings out of the nest as it grows, and the mama feeds it because she instinctively must feed her chick, but the cowbird is just a baby. Was it wrong for him to hatch, to be alive, to be hungry, to be a baby and to need love?

Symbiosis is intensely beautiful, and sometimes it's beautiful because it's grotesque and terrible. Of course, the symbiosis between two organisms isn't an allegory for a relationship, it just is a relationship, but looking at the way organisms become entwined feels like you're seeing things that, if words described them, would also be human experiences.

Being invaded by a parasite is a horror of powerlessness and loss of autonomy, but being a parasite is also defined by powerlessness. In many cases, the parasite will die without the host, but the host can live without the parasite. I wonder why it is expected to sympathize with one and not the other.

Your immune system fights against internal parasites like a tapeworm...Imagine being a tapeworm. The body of your host is your universe. Do you find your world to be kind? Benevolent? Does your god love you?

Sometimes people call disabled people "parasites." When I think about my future sometimes I'm uncertain and afraid.

But when a rare non-photosynthetic orchid blooms in the forest, this is not the forest's weakness and failure, but its crowning glory.

[thewandererh]

inv causing chaos again, what’s new 😔/silly. your slugcat style is great—especially with the head and paws :]!!! slugcats are very good at looking traumatized, 10/10 species💥

hey guess what, I'm back with more art!!!! this time is Inv throwing a bomb, where did they get the bomb from? I'm honestly pretty proud of this one, but I feel like I need to take some time on learning a bit more about how to draw and whatnot, so I probably wont upload art for a little bit.

while drawing this I accidentally made them look traumatized so I'm putting this here too, don't mind my horrible writing.

[a-leg-without-fear]

The Miranda to His Ferdinand

this is actually the response to this ask from the lovely @yarrystyleeza!!! i was so frickin inspired and ended up writing this :)

Ship: College!Matt Murdock x f!Reader

Rating: 18+

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings: lots o' Shakespeare, kissing, suggestive material

Series: Request Fulfillment

Your dorm's mattress creaked as you and Matt settled on top. He sat to your left, braille script clutched in his hand, with his sunglasses tucked into his shirt collar and his hair ruffled after a long day. An easy smile settled over his full lips.

"What's the play, again?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked as a large hand swept over the front page of his script. Long fingers traced the raised bumps on the solid white pages.

"The Tempest," you replied with a sighed chuckle, "It's about a woman, Miranda, who's lived on an island her whole life, knowing only her father and their slave, Caliban. Ferdinand shipwrecks on their island, then he and Miranda fall in love. Typical Shakespeare stuff."

Matt laughed at your synopsis, shaking his head, "And you're auditioning for Miranda, I'm guessing?"

"Nope, Caliban," you snarked in return. Matt rolled his eyes as you stuck your tongue out at him.

"Alright, Caliban. Which scene are we reading?"

"The last part of Act Three, Scene One," you said, flipping your script to the correct page, "Should be page ten in your booklet."

Crinkling pages filled the comfortable silence between you. It was quick work to find the correct page, considering the section you'd be reading from was labeled "MIRANDA AUDITION." The booklet lay open in your palms as you scanned briefly through the lines. You could almost feel the adoration formed by the prose, the pure affection woven into the words. Shakespeare truly was a genius.

"Okay, page ten," Matt announced, breaking your silent reverence of The Bard. You cleared your throat.

"Right. Ready?" you asked as you straightened your posture. Matt nodded, gesturing for you to start. A deep breath filled your lungs, chest expanding like a balloon, as you tamped down your nerves.

"Do you love me?" you read from the script. You glanced at Matt out of the corner of your eye. His lips ticked up in the corners as he read his part.

"Oh heaven, oh earth, bear witness to this sound," he began, fingers rapidly skimming over the pages, "And crown what I profess with kind event if I speak true. If hollowly, invert what best is boded me to mischief. I, beyond all limit of what else in the world, do love, prize and honor you."

You couldn't breathe. Not when Matt's sightless gaze was fixed right between your eyes. Not when this profession of love came from him so earnestly. Not when your years of pining after him had finally bubbled to the surface.

"I-I am a fool," you stuttered. You shook your head, clearing the distracting thoughts, then tried again, "I am a fool to weep at what I am glad of."

Matt placed his free hand on your knee. Your heart pounded against your ribs, anticipation leaking into your blood like ink in water.

"Wherefore weep you?" he read softly. His dark eyes traced the space around your head. Almost searching, scouring for your answer in the planes of your face.

"At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer what I desire to give, and much less take what I shall die to want. But this is trifling. And all the more it seeks to hide itself, the bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning, and prompt me, plain and holy innocence. I am your wife, if you will marry me. If not, I'll die your maid. To be your fellow you may deny me, but I'll be your servant. Whether you will or no."

A tense silence fell over the two of you like a sudden burst of snow. Your pulse coursed rapidly under your heated skin. The weight of the line you'd read felt world-encompassing. Would he understand that it wasn't just you reading words? That the meaning behind them is what you felt?

"My mistress, dearest, and I thus humble ever," Matt whispered, a faint glance of understanding passing behind his eyes. You swallowed a lump the size of a baseball.

"My husband then?"

The hand nearly burning a hole in your knee wrapped its fingers around your own.

"Ay, with a heart as willing as bondage ever of freedom. Here's my hand," Matt breathed, fingers tangling with yours. Your breath caught behind your lips. This is happening.

"And mine, with my heart in it," you said shakily.

That same silence. Charged like the static before a lightning strike. Nearly choking you with how intense the moment felt. The pad of Matt's thumb rubbed circles into the back of your hand.

“Does Ferdinand get to kiss Miranda in this scene?” he asked, gaze landing on your lips. Your heart leapt like a horse over a hurdle. Swirls of anxiety and finally! chased each other through your mind.

“It-it’s not in the script, but I think ad-libbing is more than okay,” you said as your heartbeat roared in your ears. Matt’s signature, cocky smirk pulled at his lips.

His hand seemed to move in slow motion as it lifted from his braille script and cradled your jaw. Palm warm, almost searing, and calloused like you could barely believe. Yet you’d never felt anything softer. His thumb passed over your flushed cheek slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away, before it caught on your bottom lip.

“Is this okay?” Matt asked, voice barely above a whisper, as his thumb pulled gently on your lip. A shudder rolled over your spine like rumbling thunder.

“Yes,” you uttered with a quick nod.

Before you could blink, his lips were pressed against yours. Lightning struck your mind and rendered you breathless. Shocks coursed through your veins. Your heart nearly stopped beating.

He was kissing you.

Matthew Michael fucking Murdock was kissing you.

You quickly reached out and clung to him like he was your lifeline. You didn’t want this moment to end. This singularity that felt impossible, your whole life building to this one kiss. 

Warm fingers carded through your hair and tangled in the strands. Matt pulled you closer, your chests pressed together. He swiped his tongue along your lips to silently ask permission. You more than welcomed the intrusion as an involuntary moan kicked up your throat, opening your mouth to grant him entrance. A groan of his own matched yours in kind. He licked into you like you were the first drop of water after a month in the desert. Drinking from you, clinging to you, almost desperate.

Your head was spinning. You could barely breathe. Your hands shook where they clung to Matt’s t-shirt.

And just like that, it was over. Matt parted from you like separating two strong magnets. His forehead rested against yours, heaving breaths puffing along your cheeks. You screwed your eyes shut at the loss of his lips on yours.

“I could… I could do that forever,” Matt laughed breathlessly. You grinned as you opened your eyes. His sightless gaze was fixed on you. Pure adoration flowed from his joyful expression, how his eyes crinkled in the corners and how his dimples dug into his cheeks. You couldn’t help but match his wide smile.

“Me too,” was your clever response. You inwardly groaned at your quick wit. Matt chuckled, placing a chaste kiss to your hairline.

“When’s your audition?” he asked, like how close he was didn’t render your mind completely useless. You took a moment to gather your deteriorating thoughts.

“Tonight. At eight,” you said. Matt hummed.

“And what time is it now?”

You glanced at the digital clock that sat on your nightstand. In bold, red letters, the clock displayed “4:48 pm.”

“Almost five,” you replied. Matt ran the tips of his nails over your scalp. Pulses of pleasure coursed through you, your head tipping back in his hands, as your eyes fluttered shut.

“I think that’s plenty of time to run the scene some more, don’t you think?” he suggested, voice a low rumble deep in his chest. All you could do was nod.

And if rehearsal ran long, who were you to object?