#Alien Life mantle

[culturesfinest]

Funny cool alien arctic fleece blanket dark - Nobody Freakin Cares Alien Meme - Martian Alien Meme UFOs - Manta Help your customers create the coziest of moments with these personalized fleece blankets. Available in 3 sizes to choose from, these blankets come with vibrant colors and bring your designs to life in great detail. Create instant-favorites for home or for any excursion by adding your personal take. .: Material: 100% polyester fleece (315gsm) .: 0.1in (0.2cm) thick .: Available in 3 sizes .: One-sided print .: Seam thread color automatically matched to design the Arctic Fleece Blanket: Introducing the Arctic Fleece Blanket, a must-have for anyone looking to cozy up and stay warm in style. Whether you're lounging on the couch, camping under the stars, or braving the cold outdoors, this blanket is the perfect companion for all of life's adventures. Crafted with the highest quality materials, the Arctic Fleece Blanket is constructed from ultra-plush fleece that is not only soft to the touch, but also incredibly warm and insulating. Its generous size makes it ideal for snuggling up with a loved one or for wrapping yourself up in comfort. The Arctic Fleece Blanket is as stylish as it is comfortable. Featuring a vibrant and eye-catching design, this blanket is adorned with a playful print of funny cool aliens against a striking Arctic backdrop. This unique and whimsical design is sure to bring a touch of fun and personality to any space, making it a great addition to any home, dorm room, or outdoor setting. Not only does the Arctic Fleece Blanket excel in terms of comfort and style, but it is also designed with convenience in mind. Lightweight and easy to fold, this blanket is perfect for taking on the go, whether you're heading out for a picnic, a road trip, or a camping excursion. It's also machine washable, ensuring that it's easy to clean and maintain for long-lasting enjoyment. In addition to its versatility and practicality, the Arctic Fleece Blanket is a great choice for those who prioritize sustainability. Made with eco-friendly materials and production processes, this blanket is a conscious choice for those who want to minimize their environmental impact without sacrificing quality or comfort. Whether you're in need of a cozy companion for chilly nights at home, a go-to accessory for outdoor activities, or a thoughtful gift for a loved one, the Arctic Fleece Blanket is an ideal choice. With its combination of superior comfort, striking design, and eco-friendly construction, this blanket is sure to become a cherished staple in any household. In summary, the Arctic Fleece Blanket is a top-notch product that offers the perfect combination of comfort, style, and sustainability. Its soft and insulating fleece, eye-catching design, and practical features make it a versatile and durable choice for any occasion. Add a touch of fun and warmth to your life with the Arctic Fleece Blanket, and experience the ultimate in cozy comfort.

[clowndensation]

there’s a question to be asked i think about to what extent “getting out” can be conflated with “being saved” in this show, and what freedom actually means to any of these characters.

like you can argue that shiv saved ken by voting against him on gojo, but what if your intent behind saving someone is to inflict a worse punishment than if you’d just left them trapped? can a child weaned on poison survive on milk, or are you just sentencing them to a death by inches, starved of the only thing they know? and if you save someone specifically because you know that being saved is the worst thing that can happen to them, is that kindness or cruelty? at what point does a good thing become a malicious act?

and you can say that roman is finally free, but what exactly is he free from? the company? his father? does unlocking a cage mean saving a dog, or are you allowing him out on the street knowing there’s a kill shelter nearby? if the driving anxiety behind roman is that he’s an idiot and a failure—that he’ll never amount to anything, and trying will only lead to pain—and he’s finally cut loose once all of those anxieties have crystallized into cold hard fact in his mind, what has he actually escaped from? if the cage is in your mind, is it even possible for somebody else to unlock it?

the fundamental truth of a tragedy is that even being saved can be a death sentence, if the characters are incapable of escaping the thing doing them the most harm (themselves and their childhoods)

[umbralstars]

I think one of my favorite things about FF7 is how genuinely alien Gaia is. I think people gloss over how different this world is compared to ours and I don't just mean magic. Gaia doesn't have plate tectonics, or if it does it doesn't work the same as our world. The Lifestream isn't just a metaphysical space, it's a physical ocean under the crust of the Planet that acts of in a similar fashion to the mantle of Earth. The Lifestream can flow to the surface and tear apart the land or piece it back together in whatever way it sees fit. It can sink or create entire landmasses at random.

It can flow in ways to create a lush paradise or concentrate so heavily in areas they become borderline toxic. The Nibel Mountains (while I know part of their problem is there's been a reactor there for 40+ years; do remember Nibel is facing the same problem of ecological collapse the Midgar Wastes are, so that's why it looks Like That. Nibel is just lucky it had one little town instead of a giant city) are essentially Gaia's version of active volcanoes, just without the heat of magma and lava. The Lifestream is also so close that those mountains were intimately tied with the cycle of life and death in Nibel probably for generations. Rhadore, similarly, was a volcanic archipelago, and her people knew that well. Shinra? They refused to listen as they always do.

The Lifestream itself is also one of the most animist concepts I've ever seen in fiction. It is All Life. Everything upon Gaia is intimately woven into the fabric of the Lifestream; plants, animals, rocks, rivers, oceans, Everything. It contains all memories that have ever existed and will ever exist upon Gaia. The Lifestream is the movement of the waves, the rushing course of rivers, the memories of materia, the slopes of the mountains, the rustling of plants and leaves, it is the souls of all things, it is mortal and gods alike.

The world we see in FF7 proper is a fantasy world that is slowly being consumed by capitalism and a cyberpunk hellscpe (those are often the same things). It is a fantasy world that has forgotten what it once was, what it still is. It is about a people who have been utterly disconnected from the very river of life that created and sustains them.

And I just think that's neat.

[probablyasocialecologist]

The likelihood that other technologically sophisticated societies exist is smaller than previously thought, because basic amenities we take for granted on Earth—continents, oceans, and plate tectonics—are cosmically rare.

[...]

Most geologists will agree with Stern’s and Gerya’s argument that plate tectonics should be included as a criterion for long-term planetary habitability. Earth’s tectonic system allows the planet’s atmosphere and hydrosphere to remain in communication with its interior, in a remarkable, self-perpetuating cycle. Subducted ocean crust—seafloor that slips down into Earth’s interior—carries water back into the mantle, and at shallow depths, this water lowers the melting temperature of mantle rock, giving rise to unusual magmas that create the continental crust—what we surface dwellers live on—which is rich in rare elements, like phosphorus, that are critical to life.  At greater depths, subducted water acts to decrease the viscosity of the mantle, allowing it to churn, or convect, more vigorously—which in turn drives plate motion. When the Earth’s mantle exports heat via convection, it encourages the liquid iron outer core to convect as well, and this generates Earth’s protective magnetic field, which shields the surface environment from harmful cosmic radiation. Without plate tectonics, continents would quickly be eroded to sea level. But tectonic collisions continuously rejuvenate Earth’s topography, providing rivers with more energy to transport nutrient-rich sediments to shallow marine environments. In other words, plate tectonics is entangled with all the phenomena that support life on Earth.

17 July 2024

[ghelgheli]

The tradition that Satan invented poetry, mentioned by Shams-e Qays, is in part inspired by an ancient Arabian notion that personal “satans,” much like the “demons” of the ancient Greeks, were responsible for creative impulses. A far more important source of the complex personality of Satan in Islam is the Koranic story of Satan’s first disobedience. According to the Koran, after God molded man from clay and breathed life into him, He ordered the angels to bow before man, and one among the angels—Satan—refused and declared, “I am better than he; You created me from fire and You created him from earth.” And for this God expelled and cursed Satan. Satan, however, asked and was granted a respite from God’s judgment until the day of the Resurrection, and Satan said, “Then, by Your power I will surely lead them all astray, except for Your servants among them, those pure in heart.” Satan’s independence among the angels, God’s willingness to give him a respite, and Satan’s obedient acknowledgment that he was the instrument of God’s power suggested a more interesting Prince of Darkness than a mere “personification of evil,” however full-bloodedly evil this personification might seem in some Koranic passages. The Sufis gazed at the possibilities of this complex Satan with fascination and, especially in the Persian-speaking Eastern Islamic world, they developed an alternate Satan. This Satan was the ultimate monotheist, the angel whose worship of God was so single-hearted that he refused to bow to man because he would bow only to God, the “lover” whose love was so unreserved that he accepted a role of alienation from the Divine Beloved because of his loving obedience to the divine command. The morally rehabilitated Satan is, in fact, a kind of martyr. In the poetry of Attar, Satan explains his motives, his suffering, and his understanding of God’s secret purpose in casting him out:

Far off stood I, yet I cannot abide that for even a moment anyone else except me behold that Face …

Far off stood I, in a state of gloom from separation, because I do not have the radiance of that union’s intimacy.

Although I have been banished from His threshold, I do not turn my head a jot from His path.

From the moment I set my foot in the Beloved’s alley I have not looked in any direction but His;

Since I am now the intimate companion to the secret’s meaning, I shall not look—not even the slightest bit—at anyone else.

The Mantle of the Prophet, Roy Mottahedeh

[willtheweaver]

Suspiciously specific and specifically vague writing prompts

• Extraterrestrial archaeologists in the far future uncover your body. They then write a scientific paper on humans based off of what they found out about you.

• Retell your favorite myth or fairy tale in a modern setting

• Turn a modern of futuristic story into a mythological epic

• Your OCs realize they are fictional characters. *Cue chaos and existential crisis*

• Good news: you’ve reincarnated into your favorite video game. Bad news: you’re a self-aware NPC (Al-la VLDL)

• Have you ever wondered what a tree thinks?

• A murder victim’s ghost does everything in their power to get the attention of the dim-witted detective assigned to the case

• Hero is given everything in order to stop the apocalypse and yet they still find a way to fail

• Make a grand story out of something mundane

• What would happen if the dancing plague occurred today?

• You must use tropes that you hate, and are totally overused. Find some way to make them work;turn them on their head, use malicious compliance, totally invert them

• What is the real reason why no one turned up to Professor Hawkins’ party

•A white hat, a blogger, and an AI must team up to stop an international hacking ring before they start WW 3 (bonus if none of the unlikely heroes get along)

• An atheist is deemed worthy enough to receive the mantle of god. Awkward… and what exactly are the philosophical implications?

• You’re a mimic. Describe a day in the life of tricking (and devouring) foolish adventures.

• Someone from the past is resurrected. They go on a rampage when they find out that [great deed/feat of engineering/ work of genius] is being credited to [aliens/Atlantis/ Hollow Earth dwellers, etc.]

[gothamiteeditor]

Tim Drake is my favorite Robin because he’s not only the glue keeping Batman from flying off the rails at some points, but is also actively flying off the rails himself. The League of Assassins never stood a chance. He’s probably wanted in more countries than he’s allowed in, if he disappears that list slowly grows. Not only is he a freaking genius but he also should be feared by his sheer willpower to get anything and everything into his little hands. If it’s to be found out he will find it. The Robin who didn’t have to become Robin for himself, the one who became Robin because someone else needed him to.

Jason Todd is my favorite Robin because he’s a Robin that was so mistreated by his creators and writers that they literally voted for him to die. He dies in every alternate version. He’s not only died but came back stronger, more than once. Sure he was different but that difference allows us, the readers, to see the thoughts and feelings of a Robin who could never be good enough, who still is good enough, because he’s better. The happy Robin who made the mantle magic turned into a Crime Lord who wants nothing more than to ensure no other child goes down the same path he did or at least gives them the help to succeed.

Dick Grayson is my favorite Robin because he lost his parents in a traumatic way Bruce could relate to and still somehow ended up being a better mentor and better leader than Batman himself. Dick who was the Angry Robin who grew up realizing he could still be who he was before his trauma and grief and became Nightwing, a symbol of not just one city but two, and then in his civilian life still took the cities he loves in his hands as his job. A man who watched his little brother die, and come back different and refused to help the man who wouldn’t do anything about it. A man who actually got revenge only for it to be taken back from him. And also in some obscure timeline became a Tyrannical Dictator who wanted to annihilate aliens because his alien wife died but no one really talks about that era…

Damian is my favorite Robin because he defies everything about every Robin we have had. He’s the Robin that had a kill count before he was Robin. The boy who would either become the Demon Head or the Batman, legacies he was promised, but could never achieve with the guidance he was given. The boy who couldn’t understand why Bruce tried to get him to open up and relax because he’d never known that before. The boy who had Jason before Bruce. The Robin with a sword and isn’t afraid to use it and knows how to. From assassin heir to prince of Gotham.

Stephanie was my favorite Robin because she was the Robin who didn’t stay Robin. The Robin who forged her own way really quickly and realized she didn’t need the mantle to make her own difference against her father. The one who would never be one of Bruce’s but always was one of Bruce’s. The Robin who pushed the boundaries of everything Gotham had come to expect from Robins, a powerhouse in her own right and never credited for her role.

(Edited because I originally had said Jason was the only Robin to be mistreated by his writers and fans. This isn’t entirely true so I edited a correction. Truth be told all these characters deserved better.)

[fryingpan1234567]

so what if the Bats were Spiders instead?

in a different universe, Bruce Wayne grew up with arachnophobia instead of chiroptophobia. he found secret experiments in a lab beneath their family estate, and it didn’t take him long to pick up the family business.

neurotoxin experiments. spiders.

in a different universe, Bruce Wayne became Spider-Man.

in a different universe, Dick Grayson didn’t need to be bitten by a spider to pick up the Spider-Man mantle. he grew up knowing how to do all the acrobatics and combat anyways— all B had to do was give him web shooters and a suit. but there couldn’t be two Spider-Man’s. so he became Nightwing. but with a blue spider on his chest instead of a bird!

Nightwing’s webs come from his escrima sticks. they’re packing some serious voltage, so sometimes in a pinch he’ll use them instead of his police-issued taser. his favorite part about the whole spider thing is that he can fully just… throw himself off of buildings. and not die. he’s an adrenaline junkie, what can he say?

in a different universe, Jason Todd did everything the same. tried to steal the wheels off the vehicle of the most famous vigilante in Gotham. B picked him up and let him choose the spider and gave him the power to do good.

Robin “giving him magic” didn’t stop the Green Goblin from caving in his skull. although spiders you thought you’d killed do have a way of disappearing.

and returning. in a different universe, the Red Hood took the black widow as his mascot and nobody could do anything in Gotham City without him knowing about it. he single-handedly put down all the arms dealers in the city.

in a different universe, Tim Drake made his own spider. he’d been a fan of Thomas and Bruce Wayne’s work for his whole life, or at least since he learned how to read— and he figured he could get Spider-Man’s attention if he was able to replicate the project as young as he did.

oh, he got Spidey’s attention all right. befriending and adopting an alien symbiote will do that. player 4 has joined the game.

in a different universe, Venom is co-piloted by Tim, who really does like aliens. B thinks it’s a tiny bit weird, but while Tim is tiny his alien companion is very much not. it’s extra armor.

Tim works at the Daily Bugle. nobody knows how exactly he gets the quality kind of photos he does of Gotham’s Spider-family situation, but who’s complaining? he’s just really good at his job.

in a different universe, Cassandra Cain was bitten by a spider before she even met Bruce Wayne. her mother had trained her for combat for her whole life. she couldn’t prepare her for superpowers.

B was happy to help. in a different universe, rather than Cass becoming Blackbat, she took on the alias Black Widow. watch your back for her, though. she’s got the same deadly instinct in every universe.

in a different universe, Stephanie Brown became the first Spider-Woman. of course, she wasn’t the only one, but there’s something about being the original, isn’t there?

she knows she’s funny. she thinks it’s part of the job; it feels right. she’s the closest to the average canon Spider-Man. she could’ve been recruited to the Society at any point in time. and there’s something about that too.

in a different universe, Damian Wayne was born with superpowers. he’d inherited Bruce’s from birth. Talia was quick to hand him off once she realized her baby could crawl on walls and ceilings. the Spider Cave was getting a bit crowded, but what’s one more dangerous, unpredictable, biologically enhanced child? bring it on.

aside from Hood, Tarantula is the only Spider willing to kill a man on the field. yeah, as in. bird-eating tarantula. Robin. get it?

of course, in a different universe, he still had his katana. wouldn’t be Damian Wayne without it. his favorite thing is to swing down from a skyscraper with his webs and run through bad guys like kebabs. B says it’s immoral, but who can be mad about stabbing Doc Ock’s goons?

in another universe, Duke Thomas is the most famous member of the family. he’s the other closest to canon Spider-Man. he takes the day jobs, he talks to the press, he’s the least-hated at the Daily Bugle.

his webs glow. that makes night ops harder. so he sticks to the sunlight. people started calling him the Spider-Signal. which doesn’t make a lot of sense? but Duke is the kinda guy to just kinda shrug it off, because he’s not gonna take on the entire city’s press on his own.

Miguel O’Hara stayed the bleeding hell away from this universe. this group of bats spiders were too unpredictable to have in the Spider Society at all. there were no missions there, but constant surveillance. (until. you know. Miles Morales rocked up with a proposition to take down a tyrannical system with horrible judgement and a corrupted leader. and then Miguel couldn’t ignore the Wayne family anymore.)

how I love the multiverse. endless possibilities, amirite?

(please ask me to write more for this au. drabbles. more characters. PLEASE)

[mysterycitrus]

European Dick Grayson could relate to immigrant story Superman probably

it’d be a super interesting parallel to both kara and clark — especially when dick ends up taking the nightwing mantle. like… u lose everything you’ve ever known, and everything there ever was, and u have to rebuild urself in an alien world that can be so unkind to u. i appreciate that a narrative through line for superman comics as a whole cause u see that with kon and chris as well. that’s crazy!!!

like…,, there’s a primary disconnection from ur culture as a result of violence (a mass extinction event in the case of krypton, and american bureaucracy with the graysons) but there’s also the reconnection. like, that kind of grief is profound. how do u mourn what’s gone if u don’t entirely know what was supposed to be there? how do u stop grieving a shared memory rather than just a place? that’s nuts. that connection is something u spend ur whole life rebuilding. the act of learning what you’ve lost and can’t return to is painful, and it never stops. it’s such a heavy burden to carry the weight of what came before u, and what u outlived. she still dreams of krypton!!

[ellawrites-if]

Development blog for the upcoming IF: The Whisper in the Mist. This IF is based on Pacific Rim media (with a focus on the 2013 film).

Asks are welcome (including explicit asks).

Rated 18+ for explicit language, unhealthy coping methods, dark humour, mental health issues, character death, sexual content (optional), violence, blood, gore, mutilation and body horror, and murder and attempted murder. Will be updated as needed.

Setting: Tsing Yi Island, Hong Kong (with futuristic elements).

Other IF account: @kalorphic

When I was a kid, whenever I'd feel small or lonely...I'd look up at the stars and wonder if there was life up there. Turns out I was looking in the wrong direction.

When alien life entered our world it was from deep beneath the Pacific Ocean. A fissure between two tectonic plates. A portal between dimensions.

They called it the Breach.

- Raleigh Beckett (Pacific Rim).

It’s funny how quickly things can change.

One minute you’re on top of the world, then the next, your world is crumbling down around you…

Five years ago, you and your drift partner had the highest success rates of any Jaeger pilots. Now, one horrific tragedy and a hasty promotion later, you’re pushing pencils thousands of miles away from the place you called home.

That is, until a Kaiju with stealth abilities like nothing that’s ever been seen before crawls out of the Breach.

Recalled back into service, you’re forced to team up with your once rival under the command of your former drift partner, and the advice of two scientists who seem more interested in the Kaiju’s than your safety. All while someone with more money than sense attempts to undermine you at every turn.

With everything seemingly against you, will you take up the mantle of hero once more or will you let the darkness plaguing your mind consume you?

Customisable MC (including name, pronouns, appearance, and identity). Personality is semi-set (MC uses humour and sarcasm as a coping method for their trauma) for a majority of the time, however there will be chances for character development and therefore more personality choices.

Pilot a Jaeger, fight Kaiju’s, and keep the world safe all while battling your own demons.

Five characters are available to romance. Two are only romanceable in a (triad) poly.

Found family.

RO PoVs.

Befriend (and potentially adopt) a baby Kaiju. Also give your dog lots of love.

Ciaran O’Doherty [M/F] - Hot-tempered and viciously in denial of the love they have for you that has only seemed to grow in your absence, Ciaran is your newly assigned drift partner and self-proclaimed rival. [PROFILE].

Killian Zhao [M/F] - Once a talented pilot and your former drift partner, Killian is now your formidable and highly respected commanding officer with a soft spot reserved just for you. [PROFILE].

Brin Kazlauskas [M/F/NB] - Waspish, fastidious, and someone that no one wants to be on the wrong side of, Brin is a K-Science officer with a wicked protective streak towards Zai and you . Only romanceable in a poly with Zai. [PROFILE].

Zai Oumarou [M/F/NB] - Despite a somewhat anxious disposition around those xe doesn’t know, Zai is a K-Science officer with a lot of enthusiasm and a deep curiosity towards Kaiju. Only romanceable in a poly with Brin. [PROFILE].

Ajax Nikolaou [M!NB/F!NB] - With a twisted determination to be a giant pain in your ass, Ajax is the ruthless CEO of Nikolaou Industries, a company that seeks to make the Pan Pacific Defense Corps completely redundant. [PROFILE].

Ferelith [F] - The baby Kaiju with a sweet character that was rescued by Zai, Ferelith loves cuddles, Lord of the Rings (according to Zai), and munching on Brin’s lab coat.

[lethesbeastie]

I showed a few parts of this larger ref while responding to asks yesterday, so might as well post the whole thing akfhskfhskf

Version without texture overlay + character design thoughts and lore under the cut!

I'm gonna start this off by saying that I am not a biologist and that my attempts at speculative biology are operating by "rule of cool" in some parts of this design.

Wraith's design is largely based on cephalopods, with mimic octopus, bobtail squid, and cuttlefish playing a key role as design inspirations. My goal for their design in this form was to keep their anatomy and physiology as close to the typical structure of cephalopods as possible without sacrificing the necessary physical features that would allow them to adapt to life outside of the water. I wanted them to look alien, but still endearing, and to emphasize the fact that they are very much still a child despite their size and strangeness.

A quick note on some terms from the flavor text on the image:

Buccal mass: mouthparts of a cephalopod, including the beak and the musculature that allows it to open and close

Mantle: the main body of a cephalopod that protects and contains all of its major organs

Flavor text:

Arms Vs. Tentacles: on cephalopods, Arms refer to appendages which have suckers along the entire length of the limbs underside, while Tentalces only have suckers at the club-like end

1. Blue of blood shows through in membranes/thinner areas of flesh

2. Primary mouth/buccal mass

3. External gills

4. Siphon

5. Ridges flare when threatened

6. Tentacles and rear arm merge, acts as counterweight to aid in bipedal locomotion

7. Lower anterior arms merge to form legs; lack of proper bones means bipedal locomotion is unsteady

8. Upper arms adapted hands to better manipulate objects

9. The two rear-most appendages are proper tentacles, and are capable of manipulating objects almost as effectively as main hands

10. Two mouths, one form consumption, one for speech*

- 10A. Secondary mouth hidden by barbles, chitin** structure within resembles a fused set of teeth. This mouth can be used to eat, but there's a high risk of choking

- 10B. Resting position of beak in primary mouth, retracted into buccal mass

- 10C. Extended position of beak in primary mouth; capable of breaking down mollusk shells and biting through bone

11. Natural posture when unfurled

12. Defensive stance

13. The skin covering the mantel forms a cavity into which the head can partially withdraw

14. Capable of spitting ink from secondary mouth when in distress

15. Eyes are large with highly reflective pupils; excellent dark vision

16. Nictitating membrane rises to protect the eye when biting, may also rise when distressed

17. Retractable claws inside suckers

Extra design lore and speculative biology:

18. Blood is a deep blue, appears black under water, and turns clear as it dries. Texture is thick and viscous

** in the image I wrote keratin, but research has shown me that a squids beak is actually made of chitin rather than keratin! Keratin may still be present, but it's not the main polymer in the makeup of the beak structure. I know this is a silly fun character design, but I try to remain somewhat accurate with how I engage the biological aspects, so I wanted to correct my mistake

At the current moment of this design, Wraith is 11 years old, and stands at 5 ft 4 in [168 cm] when using their legs. They measure 6 ft [183 cm] long from head to tail when unfurled/in the water. Their height and size relative to their age is above average compared to humans, but is more or less in line with the normal growth rate for deep sea tritons, which are the largest of the triton variants. Their height out of the water is limited by their physiology; Wraith lacks proper bones, so maintaining an upright form requires a lot more effort and energy. They rely heavily on mobility aids (rollator, cane, wheelchair) if they'll be walking or standing for long periods of time in their true form.

The changeling magic that enables their shape-shifting provides a level of structural stability to their body when in disguise that makes life outside of the water easier, but they still require more rest and breaks from standing than other able-bodied children of their own age. The form that provides the most stability is their "default" triton disguise, which they've carefully tailored to be as comfortable as possible so they can have a more active lifestyle. Smaller disguise forms are easier to manage, as the compression of their body makes those forms more stable to hold. Their triton disguise form measures out to only 3 ft 5 in [103 cm] tall which is much easier for them to maintain out of the water.

[llillilholillill]

i want to read about jason todd of the arrowverse. I want to read about him crawling out of his grave to the world where batman, bruce, his dad, is not going to be in soon.

i want him waking up after the dip in a lazarus pit, feeling bloodlust[in arrowverse it is canon, thank you very much], meeting ra’s and nyssa and then talia. still getting trained by terrible monsters, people, who enjoy sufferings of others too much.

i want him to finish his training with all-caste, only to realize league is in shambles, some al sah-him and then al sa-her calling themselves next ra’s al ghul, with talia being banished.

i want to read about jason todd finding out his dad at whom he was so so pissed is missing. have been missing for almost two years.

seasons: 1 and ongoing

and gotham.

gotham is in fucking ruins, because there's no batman, there's no robin. there’s no alfred.

now there’s only him and barely there rumours of nightwing, protecting new york.

jason takes up the mantle. he takes up the legacy. and he hates bruce for it. but gotham and her streets are his home. even if he has to fight bloodlust tooth and nail. because he can’t. he can’t simply make another bloodbath. gotham’s streets are already soaked in too much red. and there’s still a difference for him between killing joker and killing black mask.

he tries to look for bruce, managing one crazy case after another, almost drowning in the filth that flooded the streets when no one had been looking. he tries to look for dick. for brother that hated him at the beginning yet started looking out for him at the end. but he finds a teen instead. genius teen who has so much photos of him as robin, of bruce as batman, of dick as robin and nightwing. of him as red bat.

his name is tim drake, he’s skinny and has no self-preservation skills, his parents are neglectful jerks that still love their son somehow. he becomes jason’s robin. red robin. light in the dark alleyways. hope in the hearts of gothamites. thorn in rogues’ plans. safe haven in jason’s life that calms his bloodlust.

batman needs robin.

red bat, too, needs one.

even if stories about them are a hoax as far as everyone believes.

they hear from nightwing. or well more like jason gets jumped and almost electrocuted by him. thank fuck for red robin, his birdarangs and bright yellow cape. dick doesn’t trust him until he sees empty coffin and dna test. jason really can’t blame him.

year after kate kane finds the cave.

now there’s batwoman. more freaks. and more whispered rumours about existence of bats and birds.

then there’re arrow and flash in his city with flying alien in blue and red with ‘s’ on her chest.

and jason realises shit is going to go down, because it’s just a begining. there's no ending in sight, no bruce in sight.

only him, dick, tim, kate. and other vigilantes who know nothing about how gotham works so they really should get the fuck out of here right this second.

[yandere-wishes]

The Spider’s Web

Summary: You are a hero, you feel it within your bones. Calamity may strike and villains may rise. But you are still a hero, it's time to start acting like one. 

Continuations of Imposter Syndrome and Perfect Girl. But can be read as a stand-alone

 Warnings: Yandere themes,  violence, angst, just the worst Spanish you've ever heard.  SFW but Miles and the reader are 18+

Author's note: Last part of the Prowler Miles x Hero reader trilogy. Reblogs and comments are appreciated. 

There's a weight in your hand, familiar and awkward, worn yellow plastic stuck to rusted metal. You count the rotations it takes for one bolt to tighten, twist, twist, and repeat. You cradle the metallic gadget with such fragile care, lips tracing silent prayers across the cold alloy. This shall be your salvation once it's complete. Another key to unbinding these appalling shackles.

It's been months since the Prowler took you away. Locked you within his new hideout and threw away the key. He claims he loves you as he leaves sugar-tainted kisses upon your neck. Whispers that he's the only one who can keep you safe as he nibbles the shell of your ear. His claws have become a constant force upon your hips, his presence a burden, invariant and throttling. He's stripped you of your mantle as a hero, reduced you to a limbless, formless creature that merely exists within the dark of his room. Una muñeca, he calls you as he extinguishes the air from your lungs with a life-sucking kiss. 

But you're not a doll, nor a puppet, nor a toy. You're supposed to be a paladin, a saviour, the one who was going to alleviate this city of evil once and for all. But you're not a superhero, not now, not anymore. The thought is enough to make you sick. 

Your own reflection causes you the most pain. The glass paints a stranger with hollow eyes and a decaying soul. Defeated and broken. You've taken to smashing mirrors as a way to exercise your demons. Miles has stated his vexation over this and warned you not to invoke his anger again. It's hard to explain that his anger makes you feel human. The way his eyes narrow and his lips merge into displeasure is the only thing keeping you alive right now. You hate him, but he's practically forgotten that.

Your ears perk up as footsteps tread outside the room. You quickly rush to hide your new gauntlet under the bed, rolling to the deepest corners where the dust bunnies and boogeyman roam. You perch yourself on the bed, stretch to grab a framed family photo from one of the shelves, and focus your eyes. Keep busy, it's the best way to avert his suspicions. 

There's a light creek before Miles steps in. Footsteps heavy as if the ground's going to give way under him. He looks exhausted, practically dead. You wonder what he's been up to all day. You turn your head to face your nemesis, your jailer, your lover.

"Mi Vida" he mutters as he falls back on the bed, he turns wrapping his arms around your waist. "That slimy alien insisted I do some physical training today. It's exhausting. Says I need to be in shape for the big operation". You stiffen, ever since the sinister six had you out of their way, they'd been content with ruling the city with an iron fist. Nothing major, nothing extreme. But something is going down, something bad. Desperation throbs within your heart, you need to escape. 

Miles pulls you down until you're lying next to him. Gently prys the photo from your hands and looks it over. There's an endless moment that reverberates between you two. "I miss him sometimes'' he confesses, his eyes locked on his father's face. He looks like a child hopeless and lost. Desperate in all the ways you've never been. He pulls you closer and buries his head in the crock of your neck. It almost feels like love. If love was a thousand leeches that stick to every crevice of your body. Slowly infiltrating the heart. Slowly sucking away your life. 

Miles is a storm, a typhoon, a calamity. All hurling winds and bellowing thunder. A hurricane that shakes the world to its core. You've gotten so used to thinking of him as anything but human that you forgot he's just a boy. A boy with a heartbeat and a thousand painful memories all locked behind golden eyes. 

You remember when he used to tell you stories. Back when the safest place for a hero and a villain was the midnight sanctuary of a rooftop.

Stories of his childhood back when his father was still alive. Back when he was seven or maybe eight naive enough to believe his father's empty preaches about justice and righteousness. Mind too preoccupied with the new Rover red hot wheel his father had brought home after his shift. He'd been happy once, a long, long time ago.

Back then you used to think about him, in the spare moments between explosions and your blood pounding through your ears. You used to think about what kind of boy Miles would have been if his father had still been around. How sweet his smile could have been, how precious his soul would have been. Even after he kidnapped you and put you through horrors untold, you still think about the boy he could have been. Dare to imagine who he could have been. You wonder if his touch could have been endearing, could have made you feel safe. Half addicting and half comforting. It's laughable really, you never thought it possible to miss someone you've never met. Yet it unlocks a special kind of sadness within your heart. Maybe in some other lifetime, the two of you could have been real lovers. 

"We're planning to expand outside of New York, take over everything else," Miles says as his eyes grow heavier. He's tired, you think, that's good, that very very good. "There's no one left to get in our way." There's a dreadful banging in the back of your head. A screaming voice begging you to escape, to run away, to do SOMETHING, anything. There's a fatigue that has encompassed Miles, engulfed him whole. He's dead to the world in minutes. Whilst you are tortured by your consciousness. Your gadgets aren't ready. They're made from scrap bits you found around the hideout. Half assembled and never tested. Yet Miles is asleep, exhausted and unconscious. It's the perfect chance to run to return to your old life. 

Take a leap of faith, what's the worst that can happen...

You spare one last glance at Miles. Close your eyes and take in a shaky breath. A leap of faith you repeat within your head. You roll out of the bed and rummage under it to find your hidden gems. They're not perfect, not finished, but hopefully, they'll work. Your gauntlets are the most important part, they should theoretically be strong enough to break the seals on the window. From there you can use what little web filler alternative you were able to make to swing away from this dreadful place. Run and hide, New York is huge he shouldn't be able to find you. 

You rush for the window, pry the bolts loose, pull and pull until your muscles begin to collapse. The window creaks open and it sounds like freedom and hope all entwined with a fleece of dread. You step out onto the ledge. A hunting summer breeze ghosts across your face, as sirens scream in the background. A million lights bathe the city in a welcoming glow. You take a breath, turn around and fall. Diving into a concrete ocean, a place where you can finally feel alive. 

The rebirth of a hero has begun...

What is a hero in a land of villains? A shining star or a decaying light. To them, you are a monster, ripped from your mother's womb with a craving for blood and justice. To Miles, you used to be a beast, chained and tamed. He forgot that you were a numen. That you were something he had to fear. 

There's a divinity hidden inside each hero. Bones made of golden marrow that births sacred cells. A hero's blood is holy Ichor running through their veins. Ripping them apart from the inside and reassembling them as modern martyrs who shall die amongst the neon lights. 

How can you expect anything less from yourself? How can you be anything other than hallowed? You refuse to be anything other than sacred, trimmed in gold, and born of desert diamonds. 

Your eyes are focused on the last warehouse, Vulture, and Dr.Octopus are overviewing the newest cargo shipment. They're the last of the sinister six to die. The final lines to add to your tally. Then you can focus on the prowler.

After you escaped it took many days to find a safe place to hideout. You spend every second rummaging through the streets in search of new parts to use. You need a functional suit, one that could at the very least get you in and out of the Sinister Six's stock houses without detection. Then you could focus on stealing upgrades. You needed the strength, the extra power. There's a festering hunger pounding in your cranium. Desperate to get out. It screams the ballads of a vengeful melody. The need for retribution has become a cruel addiction, one that has driven you further than you ever dreamed possible. 

You stare out at the warehouse from your perch upon a skyscraper. 

 Count the seconds before the bomb detonates. On the count of three, a shiver goes up your spine. An acquainted terror, he's found, you feel his digital case price you from inside the shadows. Phantom pains resurface as old bruises begin to bloom. You earned your freedom to the symphony of breaking bones and tearing flesh. To the desperate tugs of your heartstrings as if it were a harp. There is no way you'll permit him to take it from you again. 

"Long time no see mami" His voice is gruff, hidden behind the layers of his mask. A small part of you used to miss this. Missed the Prowler you had fought almost daily. Missed the punching and kicking and the desperate need to kill or kiss one another. "Hello Miles" you spit his name like poison behind your teeth. Somewhere in the distance the bomb detonates, vermillion and smoke fill the air and you feel your heart skip in jovial delight. 

You twirl across the edge of the building, hands stuck out on either side. You look like a bird, like a ballerina. Like a friendly neighborhood Spidergirl. "What, you want us to beat each other up? For old time's sake."

Mile's mask slips away and he looks at you with eyes too dead for his young age. "You left me!" he screams, with a voice sheathed in pain, in anger, in broken dreams that had shattered far too quickly. 

You wonder if the mask has cut off the oxygen going into his brain. "Of course, I left you!" You scream, "You turned me into a metaphysical, gutless monster, you stripped me of every heroic deed I had embedded into your heart. You robbed me of my faith, my morals, my soul. Did you ever think I could love you after all that..." 

"You're talking crazy little bug, I was protecting you"

"From what! From the villains, I could have destroyed!"

There's rage leaking out of every aperture of his body. Anger within his lungs, pounding and prudent destructive at best. He rushes towards you, with every intent to kill to maim. He tackles you over the edge. You wonder if he has a death wish. You wonder if he's in love. 

You're falling into a sea of dying stars. Miles's arms wrap tightly against your waist. The ground seems infinitely far and yet ever so close. 

You wonder if Miles fears death or if he welcomes it. It wouldn't matter either way. For the first time in longer than you care to remember you feel so alive, dead tissue gives way to the howling wind in your ears. There's no end in sight. If you die, at least you'll die in each other's arms. Raindrops race past you splattering across the pavement, in a final moment of yearning, you sling your web against a low rise hoping it'll soften the fall. 

You wake up to the wet street. Miles's body sprawled out next to you. Inching closer you feel his pulse throb under your fingertips, a caged beast vying for its freedom. Desperate, desperate, desperate, exactly how he makes you feel. His eyes peel open, stardust and nectar falling from them. He's beautiful you think, he's deadly you recall. "and here I thought we had something special mami" he mumbles as his eyes begin to close. He'll live, you're sure of it. You just have to muster enough energy to drag him back to your lair. Tie him up for good measure, give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe now with the Sinister Six gone and the city finally at peace. Maybe now with every bad influence scrubbed clean from his life. Miles can finally become a real boy. Maybe you two can finally become real lovers. 

There's a light that dances in front of your eyes. Rogue fire and magic all wrapped in one. A man steps out of it or maybe a seraphim. It's really hard to tell with the throbbing at the back of your head. He introduces himself. He looks just like you, spiders etched into his skin and pain pooling inside his eyes. You wonder if he's been through the same horrors as you.

But Miguel is older, a crooked thing. All fangs and blood and claws. You peel yourself from the ground and wobble over to him. Collapsing in his arms. Tears fall from your eyes matching the tears of the heavens.

"It's over little one, the pain is finally over" You know he's lying. Yet it soothes you. You know your new life as the protector of New York has just begun. 

You are Spidergirl now and your life has just turned into a Sisyphean labor

Sorry it's not as good as the other two, I was having a hard week lol

taglist: @nkmblackhyuuga @itsnotino @huicitawrites @bennybenten @scarleste @the-rouge-robin @murderofravens

[dcdreamblog]

Opinions on copycat heroes? As in people that take up abandoned mantles.

I always found facinating how you can take over the name of someone you have never met, but my buddie thinks is kind of morbid, specially when the hero is dead.

I think "copycat heroes" is the wrong nomenclature in this case, unless we're talking about something specific. I'll give you a broader example of the kind that I'm mostly sure you're talking about and then a second example of the more...strict case.

Now, what I THINK you mean when you say "copycat" in this case are heroes who take names that have previously been used by others without having a direct relationship to that hero. Especially if said hero has passed on. Without some kind of acknowledgement from the original hero to pass on their names. Excuse me for a semi-repeated example but I just answered another ask on this heroic legacy so it's on my mind.

(The most famous photograph of the 5th hero to call himself Starman, The Arizona Daily Star)

This Starman is a famous and beloved hero in his hometown of Tucson, Arizona and the surrounding southwest. As far as we are publically aware he has no relation to the Knight family or either of the previous aliens who held the title in the interregnum between Ted Knight's retirement and Jack Knight's temporary assumption of the mantle.

Despite having taken this title for himself, while Ted Knight was very much living, this Starman is remembered as having bravely faced menaces like Bolt and Doctor Polaris, even stepping up to the challenge of the Dominator invasion and eventually giving his life in battle against the villainous Eclipso.

When asked about this very thing, I think Jack Knight put it best in his VERY long final interview. "I didn't know the guy personally but no one I've ever met who did has ever said an unkind word about him. I read some of the things he did, some of the fights he took, even how he went out...Connected with his family pretty deep after I found out about him too. No names you understand, even for the dead but the bottom line is that he was there when people needed him and he died with his colors on. Hell, probably a better Starman than I ever amounted to."

Now the OTHER example is much rarer and shows a facet of this part of the superhero community that I think throws things into a stark enough relief to be understood.

(An image of Nicki Jones as "Jade", taken from her "Infinity Inc" trading card, the image is of her first appearance at the Metropolis Thanksgiving Parade)

Nicki Jones was not the perpetrator of the crime on display here, we can lay the entirety of the blame for thist "Infinity Inc" farce at the feet of Lex Luthor and we all know it, but the example is demonstrative.

The entire effort was an affront to the good name of heroes who, living or dead, had sacrificed and struggled directly in the legacy of their JSA predecessors and names they made their own. Scooped out through a dubious buyout of the Pemberton estate (which is why its now the law that superhero names and images are not under business copyright as characters but as the good names of individuals). Lex Luthor using his money to rub the JSA's noses in it. But this "fake Jade" was a step too far, as the real Jade, Jennie-Lynn Hayden, the daughter of the original Green Lantern had recently perished in a battle during the 2nd Multiversal Crisis. Her brother, Obsidian, famously inflammatory in nature confronted her in front of the public and was only barely restrained from violence by the very curt intervention of his father. The entire enterprise would be very quickly revealed as a shit show from top to bottom and none of the "heroes" within it worth the paper their stickers and endorsements were printed on but that's neither here nor there.

The deciding factor here is intent and respect.

Superheroes do not view themselves, nor do they act as if they are copyrighted beings. There is no officially enforced code of conduct within their community. There is simply a mutual understanding that that community self enforce for the sake of the public trust and their bonds with one another. The Arizona Starman was a hero, by all accounts and in every sense. He wore the name he chose well and acted with all heroic intentions. Had he ever met a member of the Knight clan I'm sure they would have worked it out amicably over coffee and a handshake.

The Infinity Inc "project" trotted out the corpse of a woman who wasn't even a year dead as if she was the newest iPhone to replace. When confronted by the people who loved and respected Jade in life, both their intentions for that name and respect upon it were found wanting.

If you are found to be dragging someone else's name, especially the name of a departed comrade through the mud. The superhero community will not settle the matter in intellectual claims court.

[randomfoggytiger]

Mulder's Alien Baby Baby Trauma In-Depth (Part XIX): For Whom the Phone Calls, and a New Beginning

Mulder's resignation.

It's hard to tackle this subject because Requiem's lingering shadow casts a long, gray, and confuddled interpretation (or lack thereof, post here) over the whole. In the Bellefleur motel, he tells Scully "There's so much more you need to do with your life"/"There's so much more than this" on the heels of the FBI's clenching jaw and her sudden illness. But how much of that statement is spurred on by her health and losses; and how much is born from Mulder's own desire to leave the conspiracy behind, closure in tact, and chase a better work-life balance with Scully?

As previously explored in this series, Mulder wasn't ranting and raving to get back on the files after his resurrection-- only jumping at the chance when he misconstrued Doggett's intentions (post here)-- and he wasn't ranting and raving to help Monica Reyes on her own x-files investigation until she pleaded for his help (post here.) In Vienen, he sent the Galpex oil rig files to Doggett first and only forced himself onto the mission (feeling miffed and betrayed, post here) when the other agent didn't care to look into the case. In Alone, he told Scully "You paid your dues there, Scully-- more than paid them." And he meant it: in that episode and in Essence, he only got involved to help (or protect) his partner. Mulder was going through the X-Files motions without truly putting his heart into it. But yet, he was torn up about leaving. Aye, that's the rub-- at what point did Mulder know he had to walk away, or perhaps even wanted to? Is it conscious or unconscious: something he wants, or something he knows will happen, period? What is desire and what is instinct? What is self-preservation and what is inclination?

This topic, I've decided, has to largely be set aside. We won't have answers in this post; but I do think we will, eventually (in Alone at least.) Or as close to answers as the show's lack of "domestication" will allow. Until that time, we press on.

THE CLOSING OF AN OLD CHAPTER

In the seven-year journey to closure, Mulder and Scully forged a partnership together: opening old wounds in order to air and clean them, supporting each other in times of love and crisis. He stood by her side during her cancer and she cut open his mother for his sake. Then he found Samantha and she spoke to god-- key parts in their paths to separate wholeness, necessary for their complete healing.

Then he was taken, swallowed up by aliens; then she took up his mantle and headed the files in his stead. Scully grew into a woman of diamond, impervious to the scratches of others (post here); and Mulder into a man who was forced to recognize his own limitations. She knew her time on the files was closing, and hoped to find Mulder beforehand-- and succeeded, and failed; and mourned and moved on (post here.) He was returned, blinking and afraid in the light of this new life-- not just the one that moved on without him, but the one that needed him. After almost dying (again) and seeing his own partner on the (possible) brink of death herself, and witnessing the aftermath of that great and tragic loss (via John Doggett's pain), Mulder decided not to have any regrets and openly showed his partner that he had embraced their child.

And then, Vienen. And then his fears were becoming realized ("When he's old enough, tell the kid I went down swinging.") This-- where he now fits in-- wasn't just about him and "the truth" anymore. He "needed" to be out there, but his baby (and Scully) needed him to be here, wherever 'here' was to this coming child.

And finally, between jumping in terror from a burning oil rig (post here) and flying back to the wrath of fire-breathing Kersh, a decision was formed: Mulder would take the fall; and hope against hope that his gamble-- and new dependence on Doggett-- would pay off.

It's about time, too: Mulder craves simplicity, normalcy-- air freely breathed without lies to taint it. Truth without danger. An idealist at heart, he recalls old memories and halcyon days through rose-colored glasses, confessing in Home, "...This brings back a lot of memories. My sister... all day pick-up games out on the vineyard, ride your bikes down to the beach, eat bologna sandwiches. Only place you had to be on time was home for dinner. Never had to lock your doors. No modems, no faxes, no cell phones.... You know, my work demands that I live in a big city, but if I had to settle down, build a home... be a place like this."

But Mulder is also a man who tied himself to his quest. In the name of his mission, he set aside "a normal life" to find his sister; then to expose the truth; then to atone for his father's sins; then to atone for "failing" his mother. At last, Samantha's closure set him free; and the FBI's new restrictions and Scully's sudden illness made him reconsider their (or her, or his) life on the files. Since his resurrection, however, those thoughts were set aside as PTSD bloomed to the surface and heavy topics had to be processed and dangerous quests "had" to be recklessly pursued.

But now... now he has a kid on the way; and that kid cannot become another failure on his part, albatross weighing him down with regret.

RESIGNATION

Doggett arrives back at the basement, finding Mulder once again in the office: full circle-- the same players discussing the same case. But this time, there are prices to be had and consequences to pay. 

Mulder is lounging in Scully’s old area-- a purposeful placement, the former head now straying away from his place at the desk-- feet propped up on her station and staring hard at the wall when his replacement barrels in, unaware of his presence. “Where’s the fire, Agent Doggett?”

“I’ve been called up to see Deputy Director Kersh-- as have Agent Scully and A.D. Skinner. I think it’s hitting the fan,” Doggett informs him, harried and rushed. 

“You mean with Galpex Oil?” He rises, shoulders sagging and posture slumped. His face is etched with a wearied emotion-- resignation. Perhaps depression. 

“Word came down that Galpex has lost the right to drill that entire Texas oil province.”

“That oil should stay right where it is.” 

“You should do everything in your power to make sure that it does,” Mulder adds, approaching through the shadows as his feelings melt into resolve.

“...Me?” Doggett parrots, cautiously, none the wiser at the other’s affirmative nod. 

The phone rings, like before (post here); and this time, Mulder doesn’t hide that he knows who it is. “That is the Deputy Director calling to tell you there is no need to see you,” he informs, without pretense-- voice clear and almost light. He’s made a decision-- one that he’s certain, in better moments, will be the right one.

Sensing something afoot, John Doggett listens, expression hawkish in anticipation.  

“That the blame,” Mulder continues as the ring tone drones on, “has been properly assigned for what happened out there on that platform.” 

Fiddling with his fingers, keeping his head down and eyes averted, Mulder turns away and walks to the front of the desk. “I’m out,” he confesses, lips pursed as he grabs his coat for the last time. “86’d, Agent Doggett.” 

He keeps his eyes down: humbled, swallowing the sting of humiliation.

“What do you mean?” Doggett says, at rigid, bewildered attention. Tilting forward, disbelieving, he realizes, “You’re out of the FBI?”

Coat on, Mulder mutedly drawls, “Kersh could barely contain his happiness when he….” Smacking one hand against the other, scrambling for words, his shoulders shrug off the blow. “...Stuck it to me," he adds, talking past the blockage in his throat.

Finally, the ex-files member looks up, grim, letting Agent Doggett fill in the blanks.

Smart man that he is, John Doggett deduces the truth. “So you’re taking a fall?” he pinpoints softly. 

Unable to deny it, Mulder tries to shrug it off as no big deal-- head flicking away, mouth pulled into a careless ‘well, you know’ expression. 

“Not for me?” Doggett begins-- he will not let a good man take the fall in his name. 

Mulder reveals he'd predicted this reaction-- he now knows his "replacement"'s character-- by rushing in and barreling over Doggett's objections with iron determination. “For you, for the X-Files-- you’re all the credibility this office has left. You have Kersh’s ear and you have seen it now. Out on that platform. You saw it for yourself.” 

His expression is wounded and determined: a sentence unto death has been passed, but like any true seeker he must be sure another searcher will continue to hunt for the truth. This man is his only hope-- perhaps Doggett’s temperament, his particular ability to move through the world, can do the good under Kersh that he, Mulder, won’t be able to do. 

Mulder's singular "you're" also stands out. It implies what his partner will confirm in the next episode: Scully won’t be coming back. Their time together on the files has drawn to a close. As previously discussed (here and here): while the FBI is a considerably safer career than most, the X-Files department is not. Mulder can no longer take the chances he's done in the past and risk not coming home; and he takes that lesson to heart... so much so that he steers Scully away from the files, too, when she sneaks back to help Doggett.  As much as this departure pains him, Mulder can walk away in good conscience: Agent Doggett has proved his integrity and his ability to follow the truth to its conclusion. “You saw it for yourself” is a way of acknowledging that he knows the other is a changed man, just as he was changed years and years ago by his own first encounters. He trusts and believes in Doggett. Moreover, he needs him there to do the work. 

The two men stare at each other, reading the honor and finality of the moment. 

THE DAWN OF A NEW DAY

And this is when everything clicks for Fox Mulder: one second, he's dejectedly mulling over his expulsion from the FBI, and the next... the phone rings again.

Mulder shades his eyes briefly, contemplating-- 

--then suppresses a smile and tilts his head from Doggett to the desk.

In that split second, something changed: he decided to trust that the files would be in safe hands; and let go.

"Answer the phone, Agent Doggett. You’re in charge here now." Leaning forward, he offers a handshake (his first)-- a gesture to repair what Doggett endeavored to build (post here.)

There's a last flash of stark emotion-- reality setting in during the act of verbalization-- that creeps into Mulder’s eyes: pain rising over impending loss, resolution firming in the face of change. Doggett sees this; and, moved, responds in kind, clasping his hand firmly in kinship. 

As the ringtone echoes on, Agent Mulder slips out the door, arms swinging stiffly behind him. His sister's picture stays behind with his reluctant replacement-- a beacon to help guide the next wandering, lost, and lonely soul. 

And as he disappears, we are left with one thought: Mulder, despite all odds, seems content. Not happy, perhaps; but not unhappy, either. Readjusting, surely; but as quietly and carefully as a rower might over a calm, unbroken lake. Easing into a new future, peacefully. Mulder is waking to a dream come true-- abduction, PTSD, and resignation notwithstanding.

Fox Mulder is getting his happy ending.

Or so he believes.

CONCLUSION

The sun has set on Mulder's reign.

What does this mean for him? A long spiral? Peaceful contentment? Despair over losing the past ten years? Excitement for the future? A combination of everything, or something else entirely?

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[luxudus]

    Took me long enough but heres the sequel to the september cutting room floor. Ending this series for good. Staring in order by their number Starting with the entries made for 2022

    1. A mammaloid alien native to a dangerously cold planet iconic for it’s red and blue plantlife. They are skittish herbivores. Grazing along its planet’s “grass” by grabbing handfuls of plants with its oral tentacles and brought it to a mouth located in a hollow space in between its oral tentacles and head. And would sport vibrant patterns to blend in with it’s equally colorful forests

    2. Originally a suggestion by my friend Lemuel. They were a descendent of pill bugs/roly polies that evolved powered flight. They soared through forest understories with three sets of flattened legs and held onto branches with their hind pairs of limbs. In spite of the radical change to their movement, they would still act and eat like any other Armadillidiid Isopod. Only now they could get to their food much faster

Now onto the entries made for 2023.

    3. An alien predator that has all of our senses, but none of the familiar organs. They see the world with an organic sonar dish so powerful it could see colors as good as any eye. They smell and feel heat through heat pits on the sides of their body. They hear sound through sensitive whiskers on the feet of their hydraulic legs. And they eat and taste with a liquivorous proboscis.     And on top of their unique sensory organs and a testament to their overwhelming success, they are also freakishly intelligent. Not fully sophont, but still able to run circles around earth’s smartest life aside from humans.

    4. An orbital view of a carbon planet. A hypothetical world where it and the rest of it’s star system formed with much more carbon in its composition than standard oxygen. In place of water would be oceans and clouds of hydrocarbons. And nestled right in between the crust and mantle would be a hundred-kilometer-thick layer of pure diamond.     Sadly how life would evolve and take advantage of such a world was never conceptualized before spectember ended. Maybe someday this idea can be covered again and be brought to justice.

    5. A descendant of azhdarchid pterosaurs from the same world (or at least set of timelines) as the aforementioned Dinosauroids. They live in hierarchical herds where the strongest males have ownership over the herd’s female members.     They are also extremely violent, capable of killing their own predators if a hunt goes slightly wrong, And changes in power often escalate into bloody fights that could end in death. Some members are even willing to kill their herd mates' children if it means they get a chance to continue their bloodline.

6. A descendant of the golden snub-nosed monkey that has evolved to mimic the violet deathhead from my last official september post. Their fur is a speckled brown to blend in with the trees it lives on. The structure mimicking the deathhead sail is derived from nasal flaps once used to attract mates. The primate’s blue skin paired with clusters of veins within the nasal flaps create the iconic purple hue.     High concentrations of melanin along the tip of the nasal flaps mimic the black stripes. And even the orange spots are recreated by rows of unusually thin skin refract sunlight the same way the webbing between our fingers turns orange as a close light source passes through it

    7. A dinosauroid microbiologist who lived in a time when their people colonized the solar system. A Chia’J-di ecologist who lived in a time when their species’ industrial revolution provoked an equally powerful environmentalist counterculture, the globe they are holding is earth 500 million years in the future and long after pangea ultima split, the version of earth their species hails from. And a masculine female human sophontologist who lived in the aztec empire during it’s height. All pose for a picture.     Despite their different walks of life and origins of separate timelines. They are all heads of research within the earth division of the Inter-Timeline Evolutionist Union, better known as the ITEU

The ITEU is a non-profit, nongovernmental secret organization spanning the entire multiverse. With the goal of documenting and archiving the evolution of every species and civilization that has ever lived and will ever live across every possible timeline.     Their employee count ranges in the quantifiable infinity, and the division of a single planet is still big enough to utterly dwarf the largest and most technologically advanced civilizations ever documented. And their membership program accepts anyone from individual sophonts like you and I, galaxy spanning gestalt super-intelligence, to even celestial deities that create their own worlds and galaxies and seed them with life.  

    The symbol above the heads of the earth division is the logo of the ITEU as a whole. Surprisingly very little is known about the meaning behind it. Theories range anywhere from it representing the multiverse as a stream of timelines. The evolutionary tree of life, the infinite fractal-like scale of life and the multiverse. To possibly even the form of the ITEU’s founding species.     There’s a very good reason why the logo is a mystery to all. The ITEU has some pretty big flaws in spite of their noble goal. The organization is very secretive, even to it’s own members. Nobody outside the ITEU knows it even exists. The organization’s founders and early history remain a complete mystery. And despite its multiversal span being common knowledge. no one truly knows the full scale of this organization or the multiverse. 

    They are also very non-interventionist, and will stop at nothing to not leave a mark on the natural world and make any irreversible changes to the course of time. Even if it means never sharing their knowledge with the multiverse’s most advanced civilizations. Allowing interdimensional atrocities to keep going despite having the power to stop it. Or even keeping their own members from ever returning home.     This whole entry was meant to be a bigger grand finale to 2023’s spectember instead of the Batesian mimicry ring or the neurodivergent posthumans. And was meant to be a meta look at 2023’s entries and the genre of speculative evolution as a whole before spiraling out into its own thing entirely.

(i apologize if the aztec woman appears culturally and/or racially insensitive, if anyone who's an expert on aztec culture wants to give feedback I'd appreciate it a lot i want to improve more on illustrating other cultures)