#Doctor's Invention Organic

[du-hjarta-skulblaka]

The ratchet and clank movie is on one of the free streaming services so I stuck it on for one of the kids and I'm only half watching it and still managing to be offended

[madlori]

On being an older fangirl

I was probably 10 years old when I first conceived of what was, looking back, fanfiction. Me and my best friend would lie in bed together on sleepovers and I'd make up stories about what happened after the end of our favorite book, "The Westing Game." She'd ask me for more stories, and I'd tell her more, inventing them as I went along. "Then what?" she'd say.

I was 14 when I went to my first convention. I had discovered Star Trek: The Next Generation. It was 1987, and my youth pastor was a huge Trekkie. He took me to a one-day crappy Creation con, but it was amazing to me. I met Nichelle Nichols. My dad showed me the Trek movies. He and I watched TNG together.

When I went to college in 1991, my dad used to videotape TNG episodes onto VHS tapes and mail them to me, so I could keep watching (I didn't have TV in my dorm room).

By the time I was a senior, we had Trek watching parties in the dorm lounge, where the TV had cable. Star Trek: Voyager had started up, and I wrote a column about it for the college newspaper. I joined a mailing list about it, with people in it that I still know today.

I got my first computer that could go online in 1995. I was on newsgroups. I discovered Doctor Who. I went to Trek conventions where we still passed around fanzines containing fic and art and smutty K/S fan creations.

Then it was Harry Potter. Then there were websites. Then there was Geocities, where we could all make our own little spots. We organized them into webrings. We talked on newsgroups and mailing lists. There were fanfic archives. Then there was fanfiction.net.

Then...there was LiveJournal. And we could interact in entirely new ways. We could form communities, and debate things, and fight over canon, and get into ship wars. On LiveJournal, I met my best friend of 22 years. I was in her wedding. She's my sister of the heart (which is what she calls me).

Then there was Tumblr. And Twitter. And now there's Discord. But it's all the same.

I am the same.

I am still that little girl who made up fanfiction in her head to entertain her best friend. I am still the one who was amazed to find communities on the internet - which was so new, so raw, so uncommodified - where others like me could meet. I found there people to meet in real life.

I am still that twentysomething going to her first major convention, being told that someone loved my fic, being asked about my writing process.

I am still that thirtysomething watching something I wrote blow up. Seeing friends from other fandoms find me in new ones, finding them there, too. Forgetting which fandom I know someone from, because I've known them for twenty years.

I still know some of the people who created those early websites, those mailing lists, those archives. I still meet people in new fandoms who say "Oh, I read your fic in [fandom] fifteen years ago!" There's no feeling quite like having someone remember something you wrote for that long. Or meeting someone whose fic meant a lot to YOU, or who you talked with on rec.arts.drwho.creative in 1997.

Aging in fandom is a gift. Being middle-aged in fandom is a joy. Having people who still read what I write and ask "Then what?" is a blessing.

It breaks my heart that so many people see it as something to be ashamed of, when it is one of my life's greatest gifts.

[west-of-the-styx]

My neighbors are simultaneously for Palestine and anti-vaccines… I am so confused

[houseofceline]

My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Steal My Girl

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: None (yet ;))

Summary: Theo's friends get to meet you for the first time.

< 2

__________________

Perfect. 

You clapped your hands in satisfaction after taking a little study break to organize all your fabrics by color. The plan was originally to go to the dining hall to grab a quick snack, but your messy little studio set up in your dorm easily distracted you on the way out and made you change your plans. 

Your fingers flipped through the pages of your design sketchbook. A small smile formed on your face as you traced your sketches. 

Fashion. 

The only thing that you felt competent in. You didn’t have to try to make things look good. It was the only thing that came natural to you. You could plan an entire outfit for any occasion faster than you could even list the ingredients in a simple potion. You weren’t going to become a doctor like both of your parents, but you thought it’d be better to do something you’re good at rather than forcing yourself to study materials that you’ll never be able to understand. No matter how many times they tried to persuade, or threaten, you to change career paths, you never strayed far from your dreams. The dreams that kept you happy when you were scolded for wanting to stay home and draw instead of going with your father to work.

At least you will never have the chance to mess up a surgery. That would be worse than the invention of jeggings. 

The door swung open and your roommate walked in. You furrow your eyebrows upon her presence, wondering why she would be back so early from her date with Cedric. 

“How’d your date go?” You closed your design book and walked towards your bed before flopping onto it. 

So comfy. 

Cho sighed before rolling her eyes, “stupid last minute quidditch practice.” 

You giggled as your stomach growled. Maybe you should’ve gotten a snack before you decided to clean. 

“Dining hall?” Cho offered her arm out. 

You jumped up from your bed and happily skipped over to her and took her arm. 

“I’m famished,” You exclaimed in desperate need of having anything in your stomach after the oatmeal bowl for breakfast. 

“Me too, Cedric had promised me pastries from a bakery in Hogsmeade before I got canceled on,” Cho grumbled as the two of you walked in a pair towards the hall. 

Pastries. Croissants. Ugh you missed home. France has the best pastries. Now you were craving a chocolate croissant. Not that croissants are the only pastry in France. 

“Next ti- ow,” you rubbed your head after the harsh impact, stumbling a bit. 

“Watch where you’re going next time mate,” another boy came up and landed a harsh slap on his back. 

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” The boy in front of you questioned frantically while trying to hide the fact that he was searching your head for any bruises. Theo might kill him if he made a bruise on his “pretty girl”. 

“I‘m okay,” you waved your hands in front of your face, kind of nervous that people were starting to look.

“Hello y/n,” The other boy came up and offered his hand out. 

You were confused on how he knew your name despite the fact that you didn’t know his, but still shook his hand. 

The boy chuckled at your confused looking expression. He could understand why Theo had called you pretty instead of his usual “she’s hot”s that the group would receive when talking about girls. 

“I’m Mattheo, Riddle,” he winked, “Nott’s friend. And this is Lorenzo.” 

You made an ‘ohh’ face in recognition but you remained surprised at the fact that you were even linked to him. 

Cho nudged your side. You looked over to her and was met with a raised eyebrow. You were as equally as confused as her. You and Theodore had only interacted once and it was during that one potions class, the day Cho had to skip due to sickness. You had no idea why his friends knew about you or were even talking to you.

But nonetheless you offered a warm smile towards the two boys, “nice to meet you.”  

“Nice to finally meet you too,” Lorenzo returned the gesture. You liked him, he seemed nice. 

Cho cleared her throat while clutching her stomach. You had forgotten what the two of you had even come to the hall for. 

“Well, enjoy your meal!” You waved them goodbye as Cho dragged you to the Ravenclaw filled tables and out of their sights. 

“Who are you losers bothering,” Theo scowled and smacked the two boys on the back. 

“We were just getting acquainted with our best mate’s girlfriend,” Mattheo teased as Theo raised his arm pretending to hit him, making Mattheo duck. 

“Girlfriend? Please, you and I both know I don’t do none of that,” Theo rolled his eyes and the trio walked over to their table. 

“Lucky her, you’re not exactly boyfriend material yourself,” Enzo replied as they took their seats grabbing their lunches before quidditch practice. The first game between Slytherin and Gryffindor was coming up, they needed all the fuel they could get before Malfoy made them run what felt like 100 laps during practice. 

“What are you talking about? I'm the epitome of it,” Theo replied confidently as he took a bite of his sandwich. Sandwich was a bit dry, Italians do it better.

“Right, someone bring Hannah over for questioning,” Mattheo laughed as Theo glared at him.

“We never dated, I don’t owe her anything.” 

____________________

“IT’S SO COLD!” You let out a high pitched scream as a huge gust of wind blew right into your face. You had a sweater that you knitted yourself on, paired with a skirt and black tights along with a designer scarf you had searched the whole country for. It was late October, but you hadn’t expected the weather to drop this low. Maybe you should’ve worn your winter coat or opted for a bigger scarf. Or maybe you shouldn’t have come at all. That was the original plan until Cho had managed to convince you to attend. You didn’t really understand quidditch. The whole game seemed complicated to you, plus the whole flying really high and the possibilities of students getting hurt didn’t sit well with your stomach. But you came regardless and it seemed to make Cho very happy. 

“I KNOW BUT WE HAVE SUCH GOOD SEATS!” Cho screamed over the loud clapping and cheering that signaled that the game was about to start. Loud screaming, another thing you weren’t a huge fan of. 

“HERE!” Cho screamed as she took her earmuffs off and placed them on your head. 

“YOU MIGHT NEED THEM MORE THAN I DO!” She yelled before turning her attention back to the game. 

One by one players in either red or green began to fly out. Everyone you were cheering as if it was a competition to see which side would be the loudest. 

“GO HARRY! YEAH!” You heard Cedric shout from the other side of Cho. 

You didn’t know any Gryffindors that well but since you were in a crowd of people all supporting that team, you didn’t want to stand out so you decided to clap along. 

You recognized a few Slytherin players, the faces of the two boys who you had bumped into a few days earlier were spotted flying on broomsticks. You secretly clapped for them as well. 

The mixture of red and green made your heart happy. Christmas. Your favorite holiday. Only two months to go! You couldn’t wait until you get to start putting together presents and drink peppermint mochas with your friends. It was all so exciting! 

Focus on the game! 

You scolded yourself. You look up and frown as you see players begin to grow aggressive. You frowned as a Gryffindor player tried to throw one of those flying balls at Lorenzo. 

You knew it was part of the game but the fact that someone had almost harmed the nice boy made you want to reach for your wand. 

“Yay go Enzo!” You cheered and clapped as you watched him dodge them with ease. A few Gryffindors side eyed you and gave you nasty stares but it was hard to pay them any mind with the distracting colors of ketchup and mustard wrapped around their necks. 

Theo wanted to thank Berkshire, he really did. He wanted to thank him for providing him the strength to throw bludgers at Gryffindors. What was he doing stealing your attention like that? Last time he checked Berkshire was busy trying to ask out a Slytherin a year younger than them. He needs to leave you alone, you were his friend first. Maybe he should throw a bludger and knock Berkshire off his broom. 

Would that be a Slytherin or Gryffindor point?

[stars-obsession-pit]

The GIW had intended to open overtures with the Doctors Fenton. The pair may have been… eccentric, but their inventions spoke to their value. If they were recruited, it could be a major boon to their organization.

But then, when the agent met with them, a covert alarm on their person went off.

The scientist couple were severely ecto-contaminated. More than most anyone else they’d ever seen, even in Amity Park.

So plans changed.

The pair were captured.

Maybe they could still be employed later if they were successfully cleansed, but for now they were far more useful as test subjects.

[five-rivers]

Prompt: Danny’s birth was an accident.

A lab accident, to be precise.

The problem with researching something as esoteric as ghosts was that you had to source all your own materials. If you wanted to know how high ectoplasm concentrations affected human cells, you either had to buy from ethically dubious medical supply companies or use your own.

Maddie used her own. Or Jack's. They worked together, and he was fine with it, so it was essentially the same thing, ethically, if not biologically.

Either way, they kept a whole variety of tissue samples, sourced from themselves. Cheek swabs, bone marrow samples, skin, hair, a tooth Jack had to get pulled, blood, serum and whole, a couple biopsies from different organs, spinal fluid, sperm, a collection of egg cells.

If they were going to market their inventions as family friendly and safe, they needed to know it wasn't going to render anyone sterile. They had Jazz already, and one child was quite enough, but other people might want more. Or assurances it wasn't going to mutate their children, before or after birth. Although in Maddie's opinion, that was quite ridiculous. Ectoradiation was quite different from electromagnetic radiation, or alpha radiation, or other traditional types.

So, that was what Maddie was researching now. Eggs and sperm. She wasn't about to do anything fertilized, of course. Too many ethical problems. But she would put a different concentration of ectoplasm in each test tube for one set, then duplicate those concentrations for the second set, then set up some eggs in one set of vessels, and a sample of sperm in the other, then run them for the same amount of time. Fourteen with eggs, fourteen with sperm. A bit of an odd number, but that's what happened in independent labs. Test tubes broke, and then if you wanted to control your experiments, and keep everything the same, you had to do things in odd numbers. Or buy new test tubes. But the more time you spent shopping, the less time you spent experimenting.

She started with the eggs. One by one, putting them into the the test tubes. One... two... three... four... bottom of the column... five... six... seven... eight... bottom of the column... nine... ten... eleven... twel--

"Maddie! I'm taking Jazz out to see you know who for you know what!"

"Dad!" said Jazz, her two-year-old voice squeaky with outrage. "I know we're going to the doctor!"

"Oh, right!" she called back. "That was today, thanks you for remembering, hun!" Usually, she was the one of them to remember important dates, but Jack was really on top of things for Jazz. It was nice.

"No problem, Mads! Good luck with the mutation experiment!"

"Thanks!" She turned back to the rack of test tubes. Now, where was she? She'd just finished that row... She had sorted them by row, hadn't she? Of course she had. So, she should start with the sperm. Right

She picked up the pipette and started from the top of the column. One.. two... three... four... She kept going, until she hit fourteen, and still had two test tubes left.

Well. That wasn't good. She must have-- Had she overlapped? Or had she just not finished filling the egg test tubes? If the latter, she could just put the last two eggs in the last two test tubes. And label them a little more carefully. She rearranged her worktable and peered into the container she'd carried the thawed eggs over in.

One. One unopened egg.

Hands shaking slightly, Maddie counted back to the thirteenth test tube. The one with the second-highest concentration of ectoplasm. The one that she had almost certainly put both an egg cell and sperm into. She pulled it out of the rack and set it in an empty one, then sat and stared.

This was a serious mistake.

Oh, she knew she could just dump it out in the sink or in the biological waste box, or any number of other things. Even moving at their fastest, sperm took a while to get into an egg. It might not have gotten there yet. And even if it had... Few people would consider a single cell a human being. But... Maddie had been raised Irish Catholic. She couldn't...

She sighed. Before she got carried away, she needed to check to see if it had even... taken, she supposed she should call it. If there was any life there. The ectoplasm could very well have acted as an inhibitor.

She licked her lips and reached for a microscope. First, find out what had happened, then talk to Jack, and then... then they would decide what to do. Together.

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) Drowning in formaldehyde (Pt. 1)

—

Tw: one instance of canon-typical violence (DC), vivisection mention

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Prologue) - (Pt. 2)

(Subscription post/masterlist)

—

Danny has been working for Mr. Cobblepot for over a month now.

The first few weeks he was in the Penguin’s company, he couldn’t do much of anything. Instead, Mr. Cobblepot made sure that he was well-rested and beginning to recover.

Danny cried a lot in the first week that he was there.

He cried when he ate for the first time in years; the GiW had kept him on IVs and a feeding tube, so they wouldn’t have to move him from his surgical table.

He cried when he was given his own room to stay in, when he was brought clothes to wear, when he was given a bodyguard to protect him.

He cried when Mr. Cobblepot’s doctors told him that the damage to his vocal chords was likely permanent, and that he would never sound the same again. That he would find it hard to speak at any volume above a whisper.

Apparently, he had a lot more damage to him than he had thought.

The doctors said that the scarring in his brain stem suggested his entire brain had been removed and had regrown. Danny couldn’t really disprove that, and it did line up with a pretty substantial gap in his memory, but if that was the case then why couldn’t his voice recover too?

The scarring and incredibly new tissue that showed up in scans of several other parts of his body suggested that the GiW had done the same thing with most of his organs, as well as a few limbs, and all of the fingers on his right hand.

Danny could remember that. He just didn’t want to.

Perhaps it was the feeling of pity that kept Mr. Cobblepot so understanding of Danny’s slow recovery. That didn’t really matter much, though; Danny’s energy was focused on keeping his place here, ensuring that Mr. Cobblepot didn’t decide he was no longer worth the effort.

As it turned out, there was an easy enough solution to that.

Danny was the only one who knew how to properly operate and modify the weapons and inventions stolen from the GiW.

And so, Danny had a niche he could occupy. He could be useful, useful enough that Mr. Cobblepot couldn’t get rid of him, even if he wanted to.

And, as it turns out, Danny remembered quite a lot of the theories he heard while he was on the cutting board.

As soon as he had enough muscle control of his arms to do so, he was working away at the machinery created by the GiW and his parents.

No, not his parents.

Doctors Madeleine and Jack Fenton.

Regardless of their creators, he was able to understand them quite intimately.

Maybe it was because the ectoplasm flowing through the weaponry was his own, maybe it was because he had nothing to listen to for three years other than the excited chatter of his vivisectionists as they cut him open. Maybe it was because they were both simple weaponry without a purpose.

Danny found working on the machines soothing in a way that nothing else was.

The smell of oil and grease, the sounds of mechanical clanking and metal joints squealing, the feeling of cold steel beneath his fingertips.

The first thing he did to the machines was replacing the paint, from shiny white to a matte black. That way, they were recognizable as his own modified creations.

It was only a bonus that he didn’t catch his reflection in the metal surfaces this way.

Still, his reflection was starting to become more familiar to him. It was still strangely off-putting to see, but his face was beginning to plump out from consistent eating, and his skin was beginning to lose its unhealthy pale tone, going back to a more natural pinkish color.

His eyes still looked devoid of life, but that could be ignored as long as he didn’t look at himself for too long.

Danny sighed, leaning back in his chair as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He was working on modifying the ectoblasters so that they could properly hit humans, as per Mr. Cobblepot’s orders.

He probably should feel some sort of moral conflict over it, but really, Danny couldn’t find it in him to care. Maybe it was some sort of deep internal flaw, or maybe it was because he knew that they wouldn’t be shot at anyone without blood on their hands. Either way, he didn’t have any qualms with what he was doing.

As Danny reconnected the circuitry within the gun, the indicator lights on the side of the muzzle blinked to life, a familiar neon green.

Danny would have to change that color too, he thought. Maybe red would be nice instead, or an icy blue?

He was pulled from his thoughts by the door to his temporary workshop opening. Danny looked up, and smiled when he saw that his bodyguard was the one standing in the doorway.

The man, known only as Derringer, was 6’2”, built like a tank, and known for his love of unusual firearms. He was also a big fan of card games, and had been teaching Danny how to play Blackjack during their meals.

He gently closed the door behind him, strolling into the workshop.

Danny hopped out of his seat, hugging the man tightly. Derringer laughed, patting Danny on the back as he clung to him like a koala.

“Good to see you too, kid,” the man said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, “you just about done in here?”

Danny nodded, letting go of the bodyguard. He picked up the gun on the desk, handing it to Derringer, and pointed to the target resting in the far corner of the room.

Derringer glanced down at Danny, shrugging before aiming the gun.

He pulled the trigger, and a large scorch mark appeared in the center of the target.

Derringer whistled appreciatively, walking over to inspect the damage.

There was a deep dent in the center of the metal target, around an inch in diameter, and a large scorch mark surrounding it. The metal of the dent was white-hot, and the area around it was somewhat warped.

“That’s real nice, kid,” Derringer said, “don’t know how you do it.”

Danny grinned, baring his teeth at the man. He smiled back, ruffling his hair.

“The boss is gonna go forward with the Arkham raid soon, so long as your guns are ready,” he said, “he’s eager to try them out for real. You think you’re up to talking to him?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, nodding to the man.

“Good,” Derringer signed back.

Mr. Cobblepot, not wanting Danny to be limited in his speech by the damage to his vocal chords, had ensured that all of the people who interacted with him knew at least the basics of ASL.

When he wasn’t working on the ectoblasters, Danny was practicing his ASL with a dedicated tutor, or with Derringer, who learned the language when his mother had gone deaf.

“Can I eat first?” Danny signed, “I forgot to.”

“You forgot, or you didn’t want to leave your work?” Derringer asked, signing as he spoke, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement, “and yeah, the boss wants to talk to you in thirty minutes. You’ve got plenty of time before then.”

“Thank you,” Danny signed, “let’s go.”

“Hey, just a sec,” Derringer said. His face had dropped into something unusually serious.

Danny nodded, tilting his head as he signed a quick “what’s wrong?”

“You’re a good kid. Even after what you’ve been through, you’re…you’re a really sweet kid,” Derringer said, looking away. “But you…you can’t keep being sweet to everyone. You gotta act tough, alright?”

“Why?”

“You just…” Derringer sighed, combing a hand through his thick, curly hair, “a lot of the guys think that you’re too weak to be here. They’re calling you the Penguin’s pet project, and the problem is that they’re not really wrong. You gotta be scarier to survive, alright? Gotham’ll eat you alive if you don’t. Just make up a persona and roll with it.”

Danny nodded slowly, processing his words for a moment.

“Like a mask?”

Derringer laughed, a bittersweet smile on his face.

“Yeah, like a mask. Just don’t start fighting crime while you’re at it.”

“Okay,” Danny signed, his movements slow. “I can do that.”

“Good on you, kid,” Derringer said, ruffling his hair once more, “now let’s go get lunch.”

The two of them ate quickly, Danny’s mind on Derringer’s advice the entire time.

He was right, and Danny knew it. He’d seen the way that some of Mr. Cobblepot’s men had looked at him.

He wasn’t anywhere near big enough to pull off the looming intimidating look that Derringer did; his doctors back in Amity had told him that he would grow to be over six foot, but his time in the GiW seemed to have stunted his growth significantly. He was only around 5’6”, and it seemed that he was going to stay that way.

In the same way, he wasn’t nearly frightening looking enough to pull off the terrifying stares of the smaller individuals working under Mr. Cobblepot. He just couldn’t get the glare right; his face would always fall back to a blank, dead stare.

Though, maybe if he played into that…

A few minutes before they had to leave, Danny excused himself to go to the restroom. He stared into the mirror, looking into his cold, dead eyes, and let his face drop.

When he adjusted his stance, and kept his eyes a bit wider than usual, he looked downright unnerving.

Danny had already noticed that most of his mannerisms were…unusual, after his stay at the GiW base. Put simply, he had forgotten what it was like to be a human.

He had noticed that most of the people around him would avoid being in his presence, and had begun mirroring their body language as much as he could to seem more normal.

Maybe, though, it would be better for him not to.

He could lean into the whole thing. An unstable young adult, experimented on by the government for years.

Danny looked into the mirror, and wide, icy eyes stared back at him.

Danny left the restroom. Derringer turned to greet him, jolting when he did. After a moment, he nodded.

“That what we’re going with?”

“Yes. Is it good?”

“Yeah. Freaky. Gonna take some getting used to, but yeah. Now,” he said, getting up from his spot at the break room table, “let’s go see the boss.”

Danny felt anxiety bubbling up in his chest, his entire body beginning to twitch. If Mr. Cobblepot didn’t approve of the weaponry, or if he thought they were underwhelming, would he be thrown out? Would he be tortured again, or killed?

Danny shivered when they came to a stop in front of the door to Mr. Cobblepot’s office. Failure wasn’t an option. He had to make sure this went well.

“You’ll do great, kid,” Derringer whispered, pushing the door open.

Mr. Cobblepot had been talking with a few other people, but their conversation died out when Danny and Derringer entered the room. Danny’s skin crawled.

“Ah, Danny! Just the person I wanted to see,” Mr. Cobblepot said, a large smile on his face, “Do you have one of your guns with you?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, nodding.

“Wonderful. I was just telling my associates here about your work. Do you mind giving a demonstration?”

“Where should I shoot? Do you have a target?”

Derringer was quick to translate. Mr. Cobblepot nodded, gesturing for a hired hand in the corner of the room to pull out a small wooden board, holding it up in the air.

Danny paled. He would definitely burn the man’s hands if he hit the target, even if he aimed for the furthest corner of the board.

Still, he was more terrified of disappointing Mr. Cobblepot than he was empathetic towards the man, so he drew a blaster from the holster on his leg and aimed carefully.

The blast hit the center of the board. The man holding it howled in pain, dropping the target and drawing his hand close to his chest. The nauseating smell of burning flesh filled the room.

Danny breathed shakily, in and out.

Mr. Cobblepot, for what it was worth, looked like he couldn’t possibly be happier. He and the others inspected the board on the ground closely, ignoring the hired hand as he ran out of the room, still cradling his damaged hand.

A large hole had been blown into the board, and a good portion of it had been incinerated.

“Look at that, ladies and gentlemen! I told you that Danny would deliver, and deliver he did! Imagine if that had been a person instead! Danny, what would you say would happen?”

Danny paused, trying to wince when he realized that the question wasn’t hypothetical, and Mr. Cobblepot actually wanted an answer.

“It would give them S-E-V-E-R-E burns,” Danny finger spelled the word that he didn’t know the proper sign for, “mostly S-U-R-F-A-C-E. It can’t P-E-I-R-C-E, because there is no bullet, just energy.”

Derringer translated for him.

Mr. Cobblepot frowned, and Danny frantically continued, “but it can be L-E-T-H-A-L! Burns on the head kill fast. Burns on the body make S-H-O-C-K, and kill. Strong I-M-P-A-C-T, too.”

“So they do still kill, just not instantly?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, “they’re fast. They hurt bad. Bad way to die, hurts a lot.”

“Well,” one of the other men in the room piped up, “I guess he’s not completely hopeless.”

“Of course he isn’t,” Mr. Cobblepot replied, fixing a terrifying glare onto the man, “it was my idea to bring him in, after all.”

“Danny,” Mr. Cobblepot said, turning his attention back to him, “we’re going to be collaborating with these fine individuals in the future. I’m going to need twenty guns ready for use in a week. You can handle that, can’t you?”

Danny nodded frantically.

“What kind?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mr. Cobblepot said, waving his hand dismissively, “semi-automatic is preferable, but handguns and shotguns also work. Just make sure they work perfectly.”

The room was silent for a moment.

“Well, that’s all. You can leave now, and I’ll finish discussing the details with my associates.”

Danny nodded, signing him a quick “thank you, goodbye,” and slipped out of the room alongside Derringer.

They made their way back to Danny’s workshop in silence. Once they were inside, Derringer heaved a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

“You really think you can make that many guns that quickly, kid?”

“Yes,” Danny replied, “but I need your help.”

Derringer groaned, a smile on his face.

“Of course you’re putting me to work. I should’ve expected it. Now, what do you need me to do?”

“Well, first, hold this…”

—

[kaixserzz]

The Fox, the Crow, and the Bunny.

ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore and Gn!Child!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 2.4k words ┊ Fluff *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist | JLM Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

something sweet. dedicated to @idyllic-affections thanks for writing my kaveh rq n this series is inspired by ur acc.. realized i strayed from the real purpose of this fic and made it too long, so just think of it as a 2 in 1 special lol,, (also hi sorry for using dottore he's like my muse and i love writing him) also i hope yall get the meaning of this shit lmao (ref to the scara quest tale)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: strictly platonic/familial, reader is 8 years old, basic dottore warnings, mentions of death, dissecting animals and injuries, implied dottolone (barely), a little ooc but it's canon to me

Dottore's office was once a sacred chamber inside the Fatui headquarters.

While not relatively as pristine as his laboratory, amidst the chaos, there was order. Everything was in its designated place, even though his desk was a nightmare to whoever laid eyes on it (spilled coffee too busy to clean, now dried onto the wood of his table, piles, and piles of documents and papers stacked haphazardly on one another, a disarray of pens and pencils occupying every available niche, and vials filled with who-knows-what dangerously teetering on the edge).

Hazards lurked at every turn within his office, presenting a far-from-presentable façade that seemingly clashed with his position as the 2nd of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. Yet, one might ponder, does the doctor truly concern himself with such matters?

No, not at all. He doesn't have the time to clean everything or keep them in such an organized state. He simply knows everything is in place, and the mess scarcely holds him back (he hires maids once in a while, when the mess gets too much, and in 1 out of 5 maids he hires only makes it out alive).

Yet, what truly imbued this room with a sense of sanctity? For within these walls, he unearthed his genuine solace and tranquility.

In this space, silence reigned supreme. Isolation was his companion, a cherished serenity he embraced. Here, his thoughts danced, inventions took form, and ideas flowed onto paper alongside intricate equations. Occasionally, he'd pass out on his desk and drool all over his papers. This room stood as a shelter inviolable, reserved solely for those few instances of urgency or the presence of a fellow Harbinger.

All other members of the Fatui instinctively bid their time, patiently awaiting his emergence from the sanctum of his office before venturing to approach him. For within its confines, the Doctor was impervious to disruption. No one disturbs the Doctor.

That was before you came along, of course.

The office, ill-suited for a child of your tender years, harbored a minefield of hazards. Within its walls lay various artifacts, concoctions, and intricate machinery, a perilous realm unfit for the innocent curiosity of youth. Regrettably, your presence inadvertently disrupted the serene harmony that had long enveloped this space, unsettling the Doctor who, by nature, dislikes abrupt shifts and deviations from what he was used to.

When you first arrived in his office (he didn't want you inside of it, after all, he wasn't exactly fond of children, but he had no choice) you were immediately injured after stepping onto a shard of glass that Dottore has completely ignored. You tried your very best not to cry for the sake of not irritating Dottore further, but he wasn't very gentle with your wound either.

He took note of keeping his vials away from the edge of his table.

Then a bunch of books topples over you. He puts them into the shelves now, and you helped him organize by using the Dewey Decimal System, to which you had read from a book.

Then, while he was explaining his recent idea (rather enthusiastically) to you, his hand accidentally slammed against his files and flew straight to your face. You also helped him organize his papers.

And then it was cleaning his desk, offering him DIY pencil holders you've made just for him. You've also invented a mug that prevents the liquid inside from spilling (he thinks it was a rather brilliant invention, he no longer has to worry about spilling on his desk).

And then it was putting his rather precarious possessions somewhere else, outside the vicinity of his office and far away from your grasp.

You were very eager to help him in any way possible, and for a child, you quite enjoyed receiving chores. Yet, your contentment was uncomplicated, drawn from the privilege of being granted entry to his treasure trove of knowledge, replete with a limitless collection of books, materials, and tools.

Dottore always thought that you'd be such a nuisance to him once you entered his office and sully the peace he has always known within his office's enclosed haven.

But he didn't expect to welcome your presence at all, on such short notice, too. (Deep inside, he felt a strange warmth in his chest whenever you'd tug on his coat, asking if he needed any assistance with organizing his office. He wonders what it was, though.)

So, here you were, amidst the symphony of pen strokes etching against paper, a solitary melody resonating within the confines of his office.

Contrary to his expectations, the calmness he believed would dissipate upon your arrival had, in fact, been amplified by leaps and bounds. As he observed from the corner of his eye, you reclined on your stomach, legs swinging idly behind you, immersed in a world of creativity. Strewn across the floor, an assortment of crayons bore testament to your artistic endeavors, while he diligently attended to the papers handed by the Fatui.

Then, as if hesitant to break the comfortable silence, you tried to catch his attention with a soft 'psst!', then covered your mouth with your tiny hand to suppress your childish giggles.

The corners of his lips twitch in irritance amusement as he turns his head toward you, his pen on the desk. You broke into a much bigger grin and held your drawing close to your chest, not wanting to expose it just yet. "Hey, Dotdot!" You whispered to him, and he can't help but roll his eyes smile at the nickname you've given him. "Can I show you what I drew?"

Dottore emitted a contemplative hum as if grappling with the decision of whether to engage or remain absorbed in his thoughts. Your evident impatience manifested in a pout, prompting his response. "Well, fine," He yielded, beckoning you forth. You beamed brightly as you swiftly rose to your feet and bounded toward him, your landing generating a muted grunt from him. A steadying hand rested on the desk, enabling him to regain his composure, after which he settled your giggling form comfortably within the space between his legs. "Now then," He put his hands on your shoulder, "What is it you wished to share?"

With another giggle from your ceaseless childish amusement, you gave him the piece of paper. Big, round eyes sparkling against the light of the room looked up at him expectantly. Dottore received the drawing from you, his gaze lingering over its details, drawn into a moment of shared curiosity and wonder.

It was him, and you, holding hands, depicted with earnest effort and the imaginative touch of your youthful artistry. Around you were a bunch of other versions of him, his segments, though you've only drawn five (since they were the only ones who have interacted with you so far). Each had their names labeled beneath them, but Dottore absolutely adores that you've labeled him as 'Dotdot' instead (you've also drawn Pantalone holding your other hand and labeled him as 'Pants', adorned both figures with encircling hearts).

"Truly remarkable artwork," He stated with a smile, his words accompanied by the sound of your jubilant cheers, "This masterpiece deserves a place of honor, a spot where all can admire it. I can already imagine the joy it will bring to the other segments once they lay eyes on it."

"Really!?"

"Of course, I do believe they enjoy your company, little bunny."

As he carefully set the drawing on his table, your inquisitive gaze caught his attention. With a tilt of your head, a gesture he knew all too well, you asked him a question, "Why do you call me that?"

"Hm? Call you what?" Dottore grabbed you gently and settled you onto his desk. Positioned face to face, at eye level, his intent was clear—to engage with you as both an adult and a child, a balance you seemed to relish.

"Bunny! You call me bunny lots,"

"Oh? Do you not like it?"

You vigorously shook your head, "No no, I love it! I get called nicknames, but they're all mean." You furrow your brow as you reminisced, pouting at the awful memories. But then you broke into a big smile again, "But yours is new and cute! So, why do you call me that?"

Dottore's grin widened, revealing his sharp teeth, a sight that enthralled you. Your hands instinctively moved to his cheeks, your eyes filled with wonder, and he welcomed the touch wholeheartedly. "Ahh, ever so curious, aren't you, little bun?" He teased playfully, giving your nose a gentle boop! with his finger, and your giggles were a delightful response. "You see, I call you bunny because you embody its spirit—small, swift, and an endless source of vibrant energy.

You also love to hop onto people a lot."

"I love giving surprise hugs! I'm too small, so a jump, so I can wrap my arms around them a bit higher!" You huffed as he chuckled at your explanation. "What are you, then? What animal?"

"Oh? I've never thought about what kind of animal I'd be... Hmmm..." Dottore mused for a while, his expression thoughtful. Eventually, he arrived at a decision. "A fox, I think. Crafty, shrewd, and sly. A creature that prowls with a purpose and possesses those distinct, sharp teeth." As he said that, he grins once more to show his sharp teeth, then lunges for your finger, mimicking a bite, prompting you to gasp and pull back with a joyful squeal.

"And speaking of bunnies..." His tone took on a mischievous edge, causing your eyes to widen in anticipation. Suddenly, he swooped in, grabbing your legs and lifting you high into the air. "I might just gobble you up!" Dottore's playful pretense of chomping down on you elicited a cascade of laughter from you. You pushed at his head, trying to escape his 'gobbling' jaws, your legs kicking playfully as you enjoyed the moment.

"I don't think you're a fox, Dotdot!" You quipped, retaking your seat on his desk. Playfully swinging your legs, you mused aloud, a soft humming accompanying your contemplation.

Dottore raised an intrigued eyebrow, "Oh? And what am I in the eyes of my little bunny? Perhaps something more fearsome?" He inquired, looming over you in an effort to intimidate you.

Instead, your eyes lit up brightly, and you joyfully clapped your hands together. "Oh, I've got it! A crow!" You exclaimed with a triumphant smile.

A bemused frown replaced his grin as he processed your unexpected response. "...A crow?" He echoed, clearly puzzled by your choice. "Of all animals?"

And you merely smile at him, giggling at his confused reaction, "Mhm! Yeah! A crow that talks on and on and on." Your hands followed your words, almost hitting him in the face, "A crow that is death and prey over rotting corpses, but a crow that saved me! I thought Dotdot was an angel, but angels don't have black feathers, scary smiles, or red eyes."

Your words painted a vivid picture of your perception, a whimsical and deeply personal perspective on his nature. Dottore nods along, intrigued, as you rambled your thoughts to him, not even chastising you for grabbing the beak of his mask and playing with it.

"You're a crow! You're very smart, and clever, and creative! You're scary to other people, but not to me! I love corvids, I used to feed them bits of animal after I dissect them, and they always bring me something shiny. They were my only friends, and now you're my friend too!"

He doesn't understand the gentle warmth that began to unfurl within his chest as he remained attentive to your words. While unfamiliar, this sensation wasn't entirely unwelcome... "I beg to differ, my dear bunny. I am unmistakably a fox,"

"Then you're a crow pretending to be a fox!" You pout, stubbornly crossing your arms. "I think crows are way cooler than foxes. They can fly! Plus, you can't call yourself a fox when you resemble a crow more than a fox!" You pointed out, a triumphant smirk on your lips.

Well, you do have a point. He does wear a beaked mask, coupled with a bird-like shoulder embellishment bedecked in exquisite black feathers.

"Should I then consider donning attire that better befits a fox?"

At the notion, you fixed him with a mock glare, your cheeks puffing out in an adorable display of discontent. "Nooooo! I prefer Mr. Crow!" you protested with a playful whine, punctuating your words by delivering gentle punches to his shoulders with your tiny hands.

He chuckles at your small tantrum, and he swiftly gathers you into his embrace. Your arms naturally encircled his neck as he rose from his seat, carrying you toward the door, your precious drawing clutched in your hands. "Very well, very well, my dear Mr. Crow it shall remain," He conceded with a playful tone, his steps filled with an easy camaraderie.

Victoriously, you shot him a smug grin, to which he rolled his eyes at.

"Do you wanna know something, Mr. Crow?" You mutter in his ear as he walks past one of his segments.

"Hm? What is it?"

You made sure to whisper it very quietly, hoping the other segments won't hear you. "Between you and me, I think that your younger segments are like rats!"

He didn't know what came over him, he released a hearty, resounding laugh, its volume surprising not just you but also the other segments who happened to be present, each momentarily taken aback by their own affairs. Such an outpouring of mirth was rare for him (only when he was inside his dark, cool lab, alone with experiments).

A sense of pride swelled in your chest as you grinned widely, his laughter infectious as you burst into a fit of giggles. It was a scary laugh, maybe it was just naturally like that, but to you, it sounded very happy. "They bit me once! I was just poking their face."

"Perhaps give them a treat before you approach them," He says, calming down as he continues his trek toward your room. "This gesture might just soften their demeanor."

"What, like cheese?"

"Oh, little bun, that'll drive them even more mad once they found out you called them rats."

You share another grin with him, finding a cozy spot to rest your chin upon his shoulder in contentment, "Good! I think they're funny when their faces turn red."

- ̥۪͙۪��┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I’ll appreciate it very very much! Don’t repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[anti-lies]

Attention: After Talking to Another Real System, I've Come to Believe That the Endo Community is Being Infiltrated and Controlled by CIA Operatives

I need everyone to be aware and be vigilant because the threat is real. The endogenic community was invented to divide us and keep us distracted.

Having combed over several big potential CIA operatives, I've narrowed the field down to four possibilities. Remember that any or all of these could be CIA operatives, but I'm certain at least one has to be.

Possible CIA plants

@guardianssystem: This system claims to be a pro-endo "traumagenic" system as a way to give themselves authority. They have activity across multiple websites including TikTok and X. They're notable for compiling this document of "sources" to prove endos exist. This document is everywhere. It has suspiciously become the main compilation of endo sources that they love to link to at every turn.

@cambriancrew: They're a tulpa "system" who runs r/tulpas. For anyone who doesn't know, "tulpamancy" is essentially a form of brainwashing. Tulpamancers say they can change a person's brain to give them headmates, and they've convinced multiple "doctors" to back them. All of this sounds like MK Ultra stuff. Cambrian Crew, besides being an outspoken endo, appears to be well connected, and used those connections to help organize an AMA on r/tulpas. In this AMA, their CIA-paid doctors claimed to have conducted brain scans on tulpamancers that showed changes in brain activity when their tulpas were possessing limbs.

@sysmedsaresexist: A nefarious saboteur, Sysmedsaresexist posed as a prominent anti-endo voice for YEARS, building up a massive anti endo following on this site. Between their SysmedsAreSexist and JustAnotherSyscourse blogs, they practically single-handedly ran the "#shit endos say" tag dedicated to mocking endos. But then all of a sudden, they turn? And like CambrianCrew, SysmedsAreSexist appears to have a close relationship to "doctors," posting a screenshot of an email from Colin Ross, an expert in DID, that appears to support the existence of endogenic systems. All of this looks like a years-long psyop to gain people's trust and convert them.

@sophieinwonderland: Finally, that brings us to Sophie, another tulpa "system." She also has her own page filled with endo "sources" though not as detailed or widely disseminated as Guardians'. The more I looked into this one, the more disturbed I became. Sophie is, as far as I can tell, the system who started "The Future is Plural," the mass movement which we all know seeks to traumatize children en masse and give them dissociative disorders. She also openly brags about teaching people methods to dissociate and hallucinate, says that she believes she can rewire people's brains, and cheerfully is arguing in favor of propaganda.

Please, whatever you do, do not engage with these people. Not only to avoid harassing them, but because if they are indeed CIA operatives, it may not be safe to do so directly. I may be putting myself at risk just by talking about this aloud, and I believe they're already trying to discredit me, but I feel someone has to talk about this.

Community input in finding the spies is incredibly important.

Knowing all of the facts, I'd like to know who you all think is most likely a CIA operative.

[cosmerelists]

If Cosmere Characters Had Real-World Jobs (But Not The Obvious Ones)

In this list, I wanted to try to give Cosmere characters jobs in our world while avoiding the jobs that would be the most obvious picks--like, for example, the real world equivalent of whatever their canon job is.

1. Kaladin: Professional Football Player

It's a dangerous job that Kaladin's dad would scoff at, but the other kids in town think it's really cool and also the recruiters are coming through town and, I mean, he's really good at football.

2. Lirin: Public Defender

If we avoid the obvious job (doctor), then Lirin still needs a job where he is doing good, but it's pretty thankless and the general public are suspicious and think he might actually be evil somehow. So I figure: public defender. He's highly educated, helping people who need it, and just getting nothing but grief as a result. Worst of all, his smart son wants to be a FOOTBALL player!

3. Marsh: Masseuse

I feel like people who are good at hemalurgy know about the body and its pressure points and things like that. And frankly, "acupuncturist" felt too on the nose.

4. Shallan: Park Ranger

Shallan HATES to be confined, so no way she's going into an office job. Plus, she likes nature and animals, but I'm trying to avoid the more obvious jobs (like botanist or ecologist). It's just too bad that Shallan is SO bad at staring a campfire, though.

5. Navani: Wedding Planner

Navani is VERY good at managing people and events, as seen when she had to manage everything while Gavilar was off plotting. She's also very organized and literally invented wristwatches. So I think she's be very good at this job.

6. Elend: Grad Student

This one may be too obvious, but I figure something like "politician" or "philosopher" are more obvious. But to me, Elend has major grad student energy.

7. Nale: Insurance Adjuster

Nale is a cop, of course, through and through. But if he wasn't a cop, then he'd need some other job where he uses the rules to screw people over. So I see him as, like, an evil insurance guy who's denying people medical coverage because the company wants him to.

8. Blackthorn-Era Dalinar: Debt Collector

If flashback Dalinar couldn't make a living mowing people down in battle and had to find a less obvious job, then I could see him being the guy to hunt down people and demand money they don't have. He doesn't really care about the money. He just likes the hunt.

9. Adolin: eSports Player

It's a job where you can head-to-head battle people and your dad is vaguely puzzled and thinks you should be doing something more important with your life.

10. Lightsong: Customer Service Agent

In canon, Lightsong's job is to face down a huge line of people and tell them "no" in response to them asking for something they want. So, I mean, I feel like that's equivalent to one of those shitty customer service jobs where you're not really allowed to help people (until, of course, Lightsong goes rogue and does start helping people, but that's another story...)

11. Stormfather: Bus Driver

He has his route, and he's not deviating from it. And if you miss the bus, he's not stopping. He's not going back. You can try to run, but you will not catch up to him.

12. Tress: Mechanic

As a Sprouter, Tress had to figure out how each of the spores worked and how to use them. I just feel like she'd be good at diagnosing issues in machinery and then fixing them.

13. Steris: Programmer

She's precise, she's smart, she likes rules. I think coding would suit her.

14. Yumi: Waitress

She could stack the plates SO high.

15. Marasi: Investigative Reporter

Which, honestly, is what I wish she had been rather than being a cop like in canon. I think it would suit her! She'd get to research, investigate, find the truth...

16. Kelsier: Motivational Speaker

He tells you about the power of smiling no matter what, so that you are never defeated. He tells you to carry something small, some memento or photo, to help you find your motivation. You tells you that no goal is out of reach--you just have to find the right people and the right steps to move forward. And he tells you that the most important thing is to survive.

[ghostselkie]

I head cannon that, in a modern au, Prospero would have like four pet rats.

They would all be named after famous doctors. Also, thanks to the people on discord who helped me name them.

Florence: a brown and white rat who's markings make it look like she's wearing a nurses cap. Named for Florence Nightingale, who organized professional training for nurses, and improved sanitary conditions in hospitals during the Crimean war.

Edward: a black rat. Named for Edward Jenner, the guy who invented the vaccine. John: a white rat. Named for John Snow, the guy who first did contact tracing during the cholera outbreak of 1854. Karl: a grey and white rat. Named for Karl Landsteiner, the guy who identified the three blood groups.

[ryan-sometimes]

hi! you're the only biochemist i know so i have to ask this

my aunt recently got really into this holistic-sounding thing called healing immunity by transfer factors, tied to a very fishy company, 4life. in my understanding, they're preying on the lack of scientific proof that something /doesnt/ work to convince people that it /does/, based on reports of 'clients' that miraculously healed from various conditions from minor allergies to literally cancer, as well as preventing/curing >autism< 💀 problem is, she totally believes this bulshit and is giving them tons of money and trying to get the whole family to try it too

as a biochemist, I was wondering if you ever stumbled across transfer factors, know about any recent research on this field, or know the scientific explanation for why this is a load of baloney

thank you!

I’m familiar with transfer factors. A transfer factor is a chemical compound (often a protein) that is taken from an organism after it develops immunity against a disease. It’s part of immune cell signaling- it’s how your immune cells talk to each other.

But that’s the issue with pseudoscience. Oftentimes, they take something that has a small fraction of truth to it and then completely invent the rest.

Here’s the rest: transfer factors are often incredibly specific. So specific, in fact, that just two strains of the exact same bacteria could lead to two completely different factors being generated in response to them. Also, two different people infected by the exact same illness could generate different antibodies/transfer factors in response. Your immune system is as unique as your fingerprints.

Even if you took the antibodies/transfer factors from one person immune to a disease and injected them into someone currently afflicted by the disease, there’s no guarantee that it’ll make them immune as well. Cell signaling compounds are essentially words in the language your body uses to communicate with itself- and who knows if other people’s cells speak the same language?

For all you know, that transfer factor is telling your body something it might misunderstand completely. What if it “mishears” what that factor is trying to say? You could trigger an unwanted immune response! And that could potentially be even worse than just developing immunity naturally through exposure.

The field of transfer factors is still rudimentary- all of the real (actually scientific) research on injecting people with transfer factors to boost immunity is still very much in its experimental phase. Any company alleging to sell transfer factors to boost immunity is scamming you. Not even real medical companies are doing that yet, and if they could, they would. You know how money hungry pharmaceutical companies are.

Here’s one thing that’s certain: transfer factors cannot cure non immunity/infection related issues. Autism isn’t caused by a pathogen, how can your body develop an immune response to it when there’s nothing to fight? And regarding cancer, there’s already an existing field to treat cancer using your immune system: it’s called immunotherapy. And that will be given to you by a doctor, not some random company trying to sell glorified supplements. And for allergies? Get some antihistamines and an EpiPen.

The best way to boost your immune system is already available: vaccines. Vaccines prompt your body to make ITS OWN transfer factors and antibodies, which guarantees your cells will understand what those factors mean. And the transfer factors your body makes for itself will always be safer and more effective.

Real science beats pseudoscience.

[splitster]

answering asks

you'll have to befriend her first sorry

chocolate was the first sweet that Pom had so it's her favorite!! she won't go nuts or anything but she is very easily manipulated if you promise her a bar of chocolate

↓ more asks under the cut!! ↓

wraithification ideally does preserve peoples memories! part of the process is forming the core that holds said memories, so as long as the process goes somewhat smoothly then the person should wake up very disorientated but with their memories and personality in tact.

naw she's thankfully immune to most elemental hazards. one of the perks of being a wraith!

YEAHH i've been trying to keep up with the comics! this comic is a bit old at this point but i'm so glad bald dingo is canon 💖

i think it'd be funny so yeah sure

there is always an inherent risk to the process. i'd say the absolute ideal circumstances you could have would be if a wraith like pom and a doctor like yonny were working together to increase the likelihood of survival. the process hasn't been studied at all, given the rarity of wraiths as an organism and the added rarity of a wraith becoming so attached to a creature that it wants to convert it.

there is a metaphysical aspect to wraiths as a species that defies understanding, so the person being wraithified or the wraith themselves having a strong will for survival would definitely contribute to the success of it. thankfully, unless there's a VERY specific set of circumstances (that are relevant only with someone like yonny wraith who has two cores), the subject would fall unconscious and not form memories of the wraithification itself (which is fortunate, because that would be kinda horrifying).

if she's saving dingo and this is a last ditch effort, pom absolutely puts her whole being into it. it's very, very hard on her and she has every last bit of energy sapped from her. depending on her reserves, she could end up hurting herself with the amount of energy it requires. but wounds are temporary and death is forever, so pom would persevere through and give it her all to save him

yeah! pom's skin might technically be fake because it's made from goo, but she still feels sensations through her goo. she probably doesn't get itchy that easily. she's probably a little ticklish? but i'm not sure if you want to try that on a wraith that could easily stab you in a heartbeat...

wow when i was looking back for this pic i realized i first posted about the pom wraith au on september 1st, so the au is like 4 months old... time flies

WAHHH THANK YOU....🥺💖 asks like this are never a bother!! my favorite part about posting my content online is the engagement like this, i'm very happy to make stuff that you and your bro can bond over

procreate on an ipad! i use an empty cheezits box and three splatoon manga books to prop up my ipad to draw on, and i've been told its one of the worst drawing arrangements ever documented, so no matter how you draw it's probably gonna be better than my set up

of course! i didn't like... invent wraiths or anything. i just expanded on the little tidbits of what we know about wraiths in the pikmin universe. anyone is free to make their own wraith ocs or their own headcanons on what wraiths are

whuh... have i? i post pretty frequently. i used to post a bunch for a week or two and then disappear for 6+ months repeatedly so this is very good compared to my historical track record lol

AHH thank you!! i'm glad that i can inspire!

thank yall for all the asks, i'll continue getting through them... slowly

[unicorncornflakes]

Summer Isles - Modern!Aemond x Reader | Chapter 1

Next Chapter

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: After two years in the Summer Isles, Aemond returns from his international stay during his doctorate ready to be with the girl he left Westeros for.

Tags:  Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: Not at this moment, maybe later :P This is the best I can write these days, sorry :(

General Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know):  @thedamewithabook @bluevxnus @hiddencurator

Author´s note:  Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 3.5K

The sunlight had disappeared two hours ago. From the large window of the office, you could see how the yellow lights of the streetlights illuminated the deserted streets of that old industrial estate. Normally, at that time, there would be a multitude of operators and porters working in the warehouses that surrounded the modern, newly built building in which you worked. But, that autumn afternoon there was not a single soul. From the second floor of that building that broke the skyline of the place, you could see a paper bag rolling alone along the sidewalk.

You sighed, trying to gather strength for the next email you had to answer. You always sat next to the window, as if that could cheer you up during the at least eight hours you spent at work. The head of the service, in a show of trust and invented friendship with you, always placed you in the last shift of that customer service of the large multinational for which you worked. Although it may sound strange, it was the simplest and most complicated shift at the same time. Few clients with very big problems. Brilliant.

A new email popped up on the screen and you sighed right after replying to the last one. You grabbed the back of your head and closed your eyes, tired. Well, it could be worse, you thought, you might have to take a call. That thought crossed your mind when you saw your colleague Cristof closing his eyes tiredly while he explained for the last half hour to a client that the delay of her wedding dress was a problem of the transport company, that a claim had been opened and that we would try to give her a solution first thing tomorrow morning, not then, in the last shift.

“This is an idiot,” Cristof turned on mute just to talk to you and make you smile. You frowned and shook your head at him as he laughed again. "Yeah. Of course, I'm still here and I understand your situation perfectly, right now there is a team of five people working to get your dress to you first thing tomorrow morning, Mrs. Thyrosh” he completely changed the tone he had used with you, showing the best side of the service. That's what your job was about, showing your best possible face, or rather, your best possible voice.

“Is Aegon finally coming to look for you today?” Irmis, sitting right next to you, was also typing quickly to answer a customer who had decided at the last minute to change his expensive order for shoes from a famous brand. When they had offered you that job at a prestigious clothing brand, you never thought it would be like this. Five years in design school practically thrown away.

You shook your head as you looked ahead, ready to respond to that email. “No, he can't. You can see the fireworks from his house and he has organized a party with his friends to watch them from there” you responded completely naturally, although it had really hurt you that he didn't come for you on the same day that the local festivals were inaugurated. That was the same reason why not a single soul could be seen in that place. All private businesses closed earlier so that people could attend with their friends and family at the beginning of something that marked the beginning of autumn in a city as small as the one you lived in, but you work for a multinational. That small group of five people must have closed the shift. You were all unmarried or single. People who, according to the head of service, nothing happened if they did not attend the event. After all, what did it matter if you were missing? You sighed as you read what the last client who had written to you wanted. “I'll take the bus and I'll be there in an hour,” you explained to Irmis while she kept her eyes on the screen.

“If you want, I can take you” Roy stuck his head out of the cubicle that was right in front of you. With his headphones on and the smile he always had when he saw you, he continually offered to take you home or to Aegon's house.

"No. Don't worry, I'll go on the bus” you smiled at him with your best smile and as always Roy returned to his seat calling himself stupid. The truth was that you didn't like him taking you home. You knew he had a slight crush on you. Whenever you argued with Aegon, he was always there to listen to you and bring up all the many bad things Aegon had as a partner. You didn't want to raise his hopes. Aegon wasn't perfect, but he was the one you had chosen to be with, right?

“Well, it's cold today to be waiting for the bus.” Marga turned around in her chair right behind you. She was much older, a woman who had dedicated her entire life to customer service. She never said anything, but you knew she didn't like Aegon for you.

No one seemed to like Aegon as your partner. The five of you always closed the service, so you had ended up being a family, in which everyone knew everything about the other. You were grateful to have companions like that, but you didn't like that they interfered so much in your life.

Your cell phone vibrated. At that time, none of the bosses were still in the office, so you looked at him without any qualms. You couldn't help but smile while the others commented on whether or not it was advisable to wait in the autumn cold for the bus.

You saw Aegon at the party, being silly as always. He had sent you a photo in which he said that they were waiting for you. You continued typing and answering emails until the departure time was given. You grabbed your shoulder bag ready to leave that place for a whole weekend. You always loved Fridays. They meant not having to put up with one more customer.

“Let's go have something to drink tomorrow?” Cristof asked as you passed the security cards to exit the building. All dressed in your jackets to avoid the cold, you waited for him to close the door. It was your obligation to close the building as you were the last to leave it.

"Impossible. I have to take socks to the vet,” Marga answered.

“It's not going to take you all day.” Cristof narrowed his eyes in amusement while Roy laughed right behind him.

“Y/N?” He asked you, almost hoping that you would say yes. You were a motley group that would never have gotten together if it hadn't been for that job.

“I can’t,” you laughed, not wanting to explain much more. Really, you couldn't and you didn't want to. You were especially excited about what was going to happen the next day. Seeing the look on Roy's face, you repeated again, “Not really. “Aegon’s brother is returning from a stay in the Summer Islands and we are all meeting up for lunch” you responded happily.

Aemond had always been your best friend. You hadn't seen him for two years, almost a little after you started dating Aegon. He had gotten a scholarship to do an international stay during his doctorate and he had accepted it without a second thought, without looking back. You couldn't help but miss him, but you were happy for him. That's what was going through your head, it wasn't as if... you had always been friends, since high school. He had never hinted at anything and neither have you.

“Is that the one who is missing one eye, has long hair and is always smoking?” Marga asked, shrugging her shoulders.

“Marga, don't be rude,” Irmi reprimanded him when she saw the same sad and confused face that you had made, as if it had been a low blow to define him as the guy who was missing an eye.

“If there is one like him there,” the woman said while pointing with her head, right behind you. You turned around while your heart was going a mile an hour, while you didn't think that her words could be true, but you felt like your world stopped, right at the sight of him.

He was there.

Aemond Targaryen.

After two fucking years, he was just there. Leaning against his car, the same one you had seen during those two years parked at the family residence. He was just blowing out the smoke from the last puff he had just taken. Always dressed in black, from head to toe. His black leather jacket, his turtleneck sweater of the same color. Aemond had never been one to change his style, but you could see how in those two years he had stopped wearing his tall military boots and was now wearing black shoes that cost the same as your entire month's salary. A very expensive and new rolex on his wrist… otherwise it was him. It was just him.

Your companions stayed behind you as you ran to hug him. You couldn't see it, but the corners of Aemond's lips curled into a smile. The smile that his always stoic face had wanted to give you but had never dared. “See you on Monday,” you heard one of your workmates say while the others said goodbye to each other, but you didn't care. He was there. He was there.

“But, what are you doing here?” You smiled at him sincerely, because in those two years not a single day had passed in which you hadn't missed him. He was your best friend. It always had been. “You were arriving tomorrow. You were arriving tomorrow” that stupid smile did not leave your lips. Your hands patted his chest affectionately and he smiled. His single purple eye fixed on yours.

“The flight was early,” he lied. Aemond had never heard of a flight coming forward. Just that they were late, but he had taken the first one that was available. A feeling of indescribable warmth filled his heart, as nothing had filled it for two years. You punched him in the chest again as you hugged him again. Aemond could feel you close your eyes snuggled into his chest and he wrapped his arms around you. His aroma of coffee and cigarettes mixed with that perfume he always wore filled your nostrils, bringing back memories of a time that had undoubtedly been better than the one you were living in then.

“Yes, but what are you doing here?” You laughed again.

“Waiting for you to come out,” he shrugged with a smile you had rarely seen on his face. A truly genuine smile. “I arrived at Aegon's house and you weren't there. Helaena told me you were still at work” he sighed “So, do you work here?” He asked with a shrug, looking at the spot where you had ended up. He would never be the one to say it out loud, but you didn't deserve more. You had studied for much, much more. However, it was the job you had decided to have. Aegon had gotten you the job. All his influences had reached that place and you had accepted it gratefully because you needed the money, not for anything else.

“Have you come to look for me?” you asked in disbelief, ignoring his question. In two and a half years of their relationship, Aegon had not gone a single day. In truth, you had always fantasized about him coming for you. Up in his car, sunglasses on and ready to take you anywhere you want. However, it had never happened and you had told yourself that it was simply because he was tired from work, or that it didn't matter... or that you didn't deserve it... But, Aemond had gone. He was there, like you had always dreamed that your boyfriend would do.

“You wouldn't make it in time to see the fireworks if I wasn't here,” he said, trying to make light of the matter. He opened the passenger seat door in an almost theatrical manner and you got in. Just as he closed the door he told himself that this was going to be the big night. He needed to do it. He had been needing it for two and a half years. Since the same day he had taken that flight to a foreign university that had little or nothing to do with his field of study.

“It's not something that fascinates me either,” you sighed, exhausted and tired after such a long day. You fastened the seat belt and Aemond opened the driver's door, just after he had nervously stubbed his cigarette against the sidewalk. Frankly, fireworks didn't fascinate you. They had never done it. As a child you had been terrified by the roar that stirred in your chest every time one exploded. As an adult you had been bored by the always repeated pattern of the same in that small town near the landing that had so little to offer.

“I brought you something,” Aemond smiled. You weren't used to seeing him smile so much. Those two years away from home, away from everything he knew, must have been good for him. He took out two small packages that he placed on your lap. “Open it, please,” he finished as he watched your eyes light up. In the middle of that industrial estate, was that the best place he had found to give you his gifts? He martyred himself. Nothing was going as he had planned, but he had also imagined you in a completely different scenario.

“You shouldn't have bothered,” you replied. You chose the smallest of the packages first and opened it delicately. Aemond heard you laugh as he started the car engine. His face showed a grimace of relief. At least He was still thanking you for those nonsense. “How did you remember?” you laughed as you held up the fridge magnet he had brought you.

“I remembered the refrigerator at your parents' house,” he lied. He just remembered how you were always amazed at the refrigerator in his family's house. Full of the magnets of the places they had traveled to. Aemond knew you never spoke it but you had always been envious of those who could really travel. As far as your best friend knew, you had never left the small town where you lived, except on the occasional occasion to see or visit King's Landing. “I guess you can put it in your new refrigerator” he tried to smile, but it didn't come naturally. He didn't dare look at you. He had seen Aegon's new apartment before he came to find you. He had imagined which side of the huge bed in the bedroom you would lie on, how you would cook dinner with his brother while you smiled at him and he did something stupid... he had imagined how you would make love anywhere in it... without any ties... and then he had died of jealousy.

“What refrigerator?” You asked, completely confused, and he simply looked away from the road for a moment, as if hope was returning to his gaze again.

“The one in the kitchen of your new house?” Aemond wanted to affirm, but it all came out simply as a question.

“Oh, that.” You said pursing your lips in an embarrassed manner. “Aegon is going to become independent, but he hasn't told me anything about living together so…” you looked ahead. You didn't want anyone to see the pain that situation caused you. Your boyfriend had bought the apartment of his dreams, but you had not entered into the equation for a single moment. You had thought that the topic of living together would come up during the renovation, then you had imagined it would happen while you were helping him choose the furniture and then you had expected it during the first night that you had dined there alone, the two of you. He hadn't shown up and you had simply closed the topic with a sheepish smile every time someone asked you about it. Because you, like the others, knew that the normal thing would have been for you to go live with him. You could have told her, but saying things was never in the plans of a girl who was too shy and complacent.

Aemond ignored the comment. He thought it was best not to pick at the wound, but he couldn't help but smile with satisfaction. So you and Aegon were not as well off as he had assumed. At that moment, a small part of himself hated himself strongly. What kind of friend was happy because things weren't right between you and his brother? Well, he was the kind of friend who had had a crush on you since high school, the kind of friend who had taken the scholarship that took him as far away as possible from the girl he liked and who had decided to date his lazy older brother, the kind of friend who hadn't texted you in two years under the guise of being busy but had sought you out in every woman he'd ever been with. He was that kind of friend.

“I'll put it on the blackboard at the job” you smiled, trying to recover from that blow. “I have a whiteboard full of notes in the cubby and I always have problems with magnets,” you smiled. Always grateful. How could someone like Aegon take down a girl like that? You opened the shoulder bag and put the magnet inside, but not before wrapping it so it wouldn't break.

“There is another one,” Aemond told you without giving it importance. However, he was dying of shame. That gift did make him feel indescribable. He didn't know what he had been thinking while choosing such a gift. It had been a simple impulse at a summer night market. While he was drunk, more than he had ever been in his entire life. He was lying. In those moments he was lying. Of course he knew why he had taken it. It was for you. At that time he had only thought about spending a couple of months clarifying his ideas on the island. He had only dragged it out because he didn't dare come back and see you and Aegon. It was beyond his strength.

He heard a small gasp just as he finished listening to you open the other small package. He smiled while not taking his eyes off the road. “Aemond, it's beautiful,” you replied in a sigh. A blue beaded necklace rested on your lap. All blue. Sapphire blues, just the way he liked them, but there was something about the patterns on the necklace that made your heart sing. That was what you always liked about traveling, bringing things from the place. Not just a souvenir, this was much more, much more than Aemond would ever confess to you. It was everything that the woman who had sold it to him had explained to him.

“I'm glad you like it” he finally stopped the car. He had found parking in front of Aegon's house. He had already reached his final goal. Now he would start pretending that he was happy for you, for his brother, for your relationship...

“How does it look on me?” You woke him up from his thoughts, you had just put on the necklace with a smile and your eyes looked at him lit up while you smiled, a wide, perfect smile.

Aemond could not speak. He was only able to swallow saliva. His single eye scrutinized you silently. You were beautiful. You had worn his necklace. His necklace. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, almost as if he were going to destroy it. His knuckles white. His fists tense. He looked at your lips. He was going to kiss them. He had had that one thought every night for two years. He was thinking of bowing. Close his eye and savor you...

Someone banged on the window of his car, breaking him out of his own fantasy. His sister Helaena and his boyfriend, Cregan Stark, were both out. “Heyyy” Helaena greeted, completely happy and excited to see her brother. Aemond watched you unbuckle your seatbelt excitedly and you got out of the car. He did it too, although in a much worse way. He closed the door rudely and Cregan looked at him, raising an eyebrow questioningly while you greeted Helaena. Aemond knew what his sister's boyfriend thought. There the boy with anger problems from high school came to light. Aemond already controlled any attack like that, but the memory of everyone who had experienced it was still very present among them.

“Aem,” his sister greeted him again, as if she had not seen him in those two years when she had been the only one along with her mother who had visited him on the summer islands. Furthermore, he had already seen him when he got off the plane and he was the one who had taken him to the family home after the trip. A small part of Aemond hated his sister's meddling.

“It looks like she hasn’t seen you in decades,” Cregan laughed and Aemond released his sister from his neck. Cregan shook his girlfriend's hand and you remained in the discreet background. At that moment, Aemond also wanted to hold your hand, intertwine his fingers with yours as you headed to watch the fireworks. But, you weren't his girl, you were Aegon's girl.

The four of you walked to the portal of that luxury building in the middle of the city. Helaena kept asking Aemond about his trip, but he couldn't help but glance at how now all your attention had returned to your mobile phone. You half-heartedly checked your social networks. You didn't seem very excited about the prospect of seeing the fireworks. In reality, you were too tired during the day and having to share the end of it with Aegon's friends you couldn't stand didn't help the outlook.

“My God, that's me” you laughed half-heartedly when you saw yourself in the elevator mirror as you went up to the 20th floor of that luxury building. The last one, from where you could see the entire city and where Aegon now had his new dream apartment, in which you were not going to live.

“It's normal that you are tired. I don't know how you put up with that job” Helaena commented while Cregan nodded his head. “I don't know what Aegon thinks letting you stay in a place like this,” your boyfriend's sister shrugged her shoulders. “He has enough money to support you both and a good job…” he began without any malice, but then Cregan whispered in his ear.

“Hel, we've already talked about this a thousand times,” her boyfriend commented, a whisper that you barely heard, but that set off all of Aemond's alarms. He also wouldn't have let you be in a job that was obviously destroying you, not with all the money they enjoyed. He would take care of you. That's what was said...

“I just prefer to be financially independent,” you smiled again, in a polite manner. You didn't want Aegon to pay for any of your whims. Absolutely none, but it was true that the Targaryens had always seen it differently. Helaena had stopped working the same day she had gone to live with Cregan and their mother, Alicent, you doubted that she had ever worked in something other than taking care of her children. They were traditional. Everyone had very marked gender roles and… that's why everyone had expected that you and Aegon would have lived together, but that wasn't the case. Sometimes you thought about whether you and Aegon had some kind of...future.

“You're beautiful,” Aemond whispered in your ear and you smiled at him again. Helaena looked at you out of the corner of her eye. It was obvious that you were dating the wrong Targaryen. But, Aemond had never been brave enough to confess in all those years during high school, not even during university... the elevator finally stopped, but Aemond continued with his only eye fixed on you. You laughed as the door opened and you walked away from him, but that grimace with his lips half open and a mischievous smile showed Helaena that Aemond had not returned with the intention of just being your friend.

You were the one who pressed the bell, waiting for Aegon to open the door, and Helaena watched as Aemond stood right behind you, placing his hand on your lower back, in a protective movement. You didn't say anything. You were always too polite, but you weren't single. When you and Aemond had been in high school you hadn't minded gestures like that, in college neither, you had even appreciated them, but... now you were with Aegon.

Aegon opened the door, as always with a drink in his hand, inside you could already see a large crowd of people that Aegon called friends and the noise of the music was already strident. “My dragon girl” he smiled seductively at you, ignoring the others. Aemond entered the house rolling his one eye in annoyance and Helaena and Cregan followed him while you continued with a silly smile looking at him. The truth was that whenever he looked at you like that and used that tone of voice you fell apart just for him. Attraction. That was the only thing that had kept that relationship afloat. It was what you feared. “Are you staying over tonight? “To ride your dragon?” Aegon whispered to you. His breath already smelled of alcohol and Aemond pursed his lips as he left his coat on the coat rack in the hall. Was that his brother's best way to seduce you?

"Do not be silly. Of course I'm going to stay the night” you smiled at him, hitting him lightly on the chest, with an embarrassed smile. Aegon smelled of sweat and alcohol, but that didn't seem to matter to you. You had gotten used to it and took the lazy mood of the eldest Targaryen as normal.

“How pretty.” Aegon ran his fingers over the necklace Aemond had brought you. Just getting on his younger brother's nerves. His fingers handling each of the beads, without any shame. “Have you been to the stands at the fair?” He smiled at you. He was so drunk that Aemond doubted he could stand much longer, but of course he could when it came to partying, Aegon could always stand.

“Aemond brought it to me from the Summer Islands” you smiled and saw how Aegon smiled a superb smile. Of course he brought it to you. He turned to look at his brother, who at that moment took his one eye away from the two of you.

“Thank you, little brother. It's very nice what you brought for my girlfriend” he laughed cheekily, marking his territory. It seemed that the only one who didn't realize that Aemond was crazy about you was you.

“Hmm” was all you heard Aemond say as he turned and disappeared into the party. Aegon left too and you closed the door to Aegon's new house. They had both left you alone. Alone but surrounded by people. Helaena looked into the distance. Aegon was stupid to leave you alone, but Aemond was even more stupid. His pride got the best of him and he just missed a brilliant opportunity to be alone with you.

That night, Aemond Targaryen planned to confess, because the only thing that was clear to him in his life was that he could no longer hide what he felt for you.

[purplehalnw]

So, while the Chibnall Era was certainly not as bad as I saw some people saying it was, it was definitely not good. A big problem is that there is just a lot of missed potential. There are lots of elements that the writers didn't take advantage of or expand upon enough which ended up making the story and the characters pretty boring in my opinion. So, a lot of my rewrite ideas will be expansions of those underutilized elements.

Also, let me preface this by saying that I am in no way a professional writer, I am just a teenager with a dream. I've tried to organize my ideas as much as possible by presenting them character by character but it still may be a little messy.

Graham:

-His wife Grace should die helping/saving people after having spent at least half a season with the Doctor (not just one episode)

-The Doctor will feel guilty for having put Grace in danger and not being able to save her. Ryan will blame the Doctor and be angry while Yaz and Graham will be understanding and not blame the Doctor. Graham will reassure Ryan that all of them were aware of the risks that would come with travelling with the Doctor and that Grace died doing what she loved which was helping people.

-Graham's cancer will return and he will die from it. I think it would be interesting to see a companion die from something more normal when other ones have died in the most devastating ways possible. Graham's death can extend over multiple episodes which would show the characters' developing reactions to the fact that Graham is going to die.

-The Doctor will have a crisis in which she tries to make sure that Graham has lived a full life by taking him on as many adventures as possible due to the fact that other companions who died were so young and thus didn't get to experience as much. However, Graham will tell the Doctor that he is content with the mostly quiet life he has lived and that he has accepted the fact that he is going to die because at least he'll be going to the same place where Grace is.

-Also, I posted these ideas on TikTok as well and someone suggested another idea in the comments: The Doctor will obtain a cure for cancer from the future and offer it to Graham. But Graham will reject it for several reasons. One, Graham thinks that he has lived long enough, and he'd rather die this way rather than die suddenly and unexpectedly from something else. Two, the Doctor says she can't give the cure to anyone else before the time it's invented because of you know timeline shenanigans she can't interfere with. So Graham thinks, "why should I get the cure while no one else does? That's unfair". Third, Graham wants to see Grace again.

Ryan:

-Ryan will feel inclined to mend the relationship with his dad because he is the only blood relative he has left since Grace died. However, he won't reconcile with his father in the end. This'll instead be the moment Ryan accepts Graham as a father figure and calls Graham his grandfather.

-His dyspraxia will be touched upon more than just with throwaway lines about how he can't ride a bike and struggles with climbing ladders. There will be moments in which he is underestimated by some of the other characters, maybe Graham, which Ryan will obviously be frustrated by and will serve as a way to show how those with disabilities are often coddled and infantilized. Also, the Doctor will relate to him because of her own neurodivergence (especially since I've seen dyspraxic people point out how the 11th Doctor moves reminds them of themselves) which will strengthen their bond.

-There will be flashbacks that show how Yaz and Ryan were friends when they were in school. The two of them became friends because they both felt like outcasts with Ryan feeling that way due to his dyspraxia and Yaz feeling that way due to her sexuality.

-Ryan's YouTube channel will be a greater part of his character instead of something that never gets brought up again after his first episode. He will constantly record his adventures with the Doctor and upload them to YouTube to honor Grace in a way. When Graham dies of cancer, Ryan will upload a video summarizing who Graham was as a person and all the amazing things he did.

-Graham's death and his thing about being content with the little things in life will make Ryan realize that he hasn't fully explored his planet and seen its full potential and beauty. This epiphany will make him decide to take a break from being with the Doctor to travel around Earth. This'll open up the door for episodes solely focused on Ryan along with a way to introduce us to more Earth adventure episodes with the Doctor. Plus, this situation will allow Yaz and the Doctor's relationship to develop more.

Yaz:

-Her sexuality will not be something that only gets barely acknowledged in her final three episodes.

-Yaz and Ryan will have dated in school but broke up due to Yaz's lack of feelings towards him and her mental health struggles which caused her to push him away which will explain why they grew apart.

-I know we all love Dan but I'm going to have to get rid of him completely. So instead, Ryan will be the one to confront Yaz about her feelings towards the Doctor.

-Yaz's implied internalized homophobia will be further expanded upon. Jack's 51st century values and feelings towards the Doctor along with the Doctor's nonchalantness towards gender will serve as ways for Yaz to accept herself more. A main thing with Doctor Who companions is the Doctor showing them things they didn't even think were possible, the same will be true for Yaz but in a different way.

-The issues surrounding Yaz being a police officer were only barely touched upon in the episode "Rosa" before quickly being brushed off and never brought up again. Her job in general hardly even plays much of a role, like she literally just quits off screen near the end. But now her being a cop will serve as a source of ongoing conflict between the Doctor and Ryan who will be ACAB. The Doctor will challenge Yaz's beliefs regarding the police system, similar to how she challenged Yaz's ideas regarding gender and sexuality.

The Doctor:

-While it is kind of nice that the Doctor's gender identity isn't really questioned and is treated as normal, I think there should be some more exploration of Timelord's concept of sexuality and gender. Are all Timelords fluid in gender and sexuality? Do Timelords ever have gender dysphoria or have gender identities that are different from their current sex? Is sexuality the same throughout every regeneration or does it vary? Not all of them have to be answered or completely answered but I would like them to be addressed.

-More lore will be given regarding who the Doctor thought was their biological family so that the Timeless Child plotline and the fact that the Doctor was lied to will have more impact.

-Instead of confining the Flux to only six episodes, it will be alluded to at around the same time the Timeless Child will be hinted at.

-The writers said that they intentionally wrote the 13th Doctor as autistic. There are several scenes where they emphasize how socially awkward she is and the Timeless Child plotline is used to explain the autistic behavior of hers which has been present throughout the whole entire series. All of this is nice but again it isn't used to it's full potential. The Doctor should be used to create allegories for neurodivergence. The reveal of the Timeless Child will be equated to say finding out you're autistic. The Doctor will be used as a way to show how autistic men are treated differently than autistic women with her eccentricities being met with more hostility than when she was a man. Ryan will address how the way the Doctor acts aligns with autism which will spark a conversation about the necessity of labels and who can use them.

-The Doctor's refusal to form strong relationships out of fear of them ending tragically will be a more present underlying conflict. The story of the 13th Doctor and her companions will end sadly with her pushing them away and leaving them on Earth long enough that they've gone back to their normal lives and have realized that there's nothing they can do except hope that the Doctor is able to sort her shit out on her own.

I have considered doing a rewrite of these seasons or something but again I'm not an expert writer. The only fic I've ever written is a 2,000 word character study and that one took me a long time to write because of how much a perfectionist I am.

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LBGTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 3, Wave 1, Poll 3

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included. 

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Wei Wuxian-The Untamed / Mo Dao Zu Shi

Qualifications:

Goes through a somewhat unethical organ transplant (in that the person he is giving the organ to doesn't realize that's what's going on) where he gives up his "golden core." This is like his center of power and by giving it up, not only is he not able to do most of the more "magic" things he could do before, but he's also noticeably physically weaker and gets injured much more easily (and takes longer to recover) as well as faints more often (iirc he only faints once pre-golden core removal and that was after sustaining major injuries and going on for a significant time without any healing while also fighting and traveling). Like he finds ways around it and invents new methods so that he can still do some things that he did before, just via a very different method. In the show we don't really see any characters who aren't cultivators, or at least part of that world, so Wei Wuxian is like the only character we really get to see without a golden core.

Also gotta say that this boy is severely depressed. Like "I'm-going-to-ask-my-doctor-friend-to-perform-a-mutliple-day-long-surgery-on-myself-in-which-I-will-be-awake-where-she'll-rip-out-the-core-of-my-being-and-transplant-it-into-my-adopted-brother-who-I'll-make-sure-never-finds-out-what-happened-even-though-he'll-come-to-hate-me" depressed. he has no value for his own life other than what he can give to others, even if it's his own body. like I think some fans unfairly classify him as being insane when he's really just depressed as all hell and having the worst possible things happen to him one after another and every time he breaks down it causes more trouble and usually people end up dying because of him.

Propaganda:

https://youtu.be/swbXAVADjxY ^ok this clip kinda explains the whole thing better (and obvs spoilers)

https://youtu.be/2wO5nsnkSBk ^and this video is just for fun but it's a little thing about Wei Wuxian & Jiang Cheng because their relationship makes me unwell

Additional Qualifications/Propaganda by @transparent-internet-maker

Kinda surprised ADHD!Wei Wuxian isn't included I thought that was a popular hc. There are several signs: He seems to forget a lot of things, but at the same time he clearly remembers other things that happened a long time ago. He invented a. lot. of things. His mind is almost never where he physically is and he's really smart in that thinks-way-too-much-out-of-the-box-in-a-short-time way. (1/2)

Then there is the fact that he's actually knowledgable, more than most of the others at times, but we see him doing whatever else he wants to instead of studying more often than not. The inventions point and this put together hint at him not being focused and having hyperfixations. And the general view of not studious but still smarter than everyone else just clear adhd I think. NOT trying to hate anyone, I thought I'd just mention this since I've seen a lot of adhd wwx.

Wade Wilson / Deadpool-Marvel

Qualifications:

pansexual who has cancer and [has] chronic pain

Propaganda:

Deadpool is all our favourite mutant/mutate merc with a mouth who suffers from chronic pain and makes others suffer by killing them, he is also pansexual and heartmates with Spiderman (they even have a ~genetically engineered evil~ daughter ~clone~ together)