#Flesh has a tendency to be fragile

[hewhohaseateneverything]

Don’t you just hate it when you’re just trying to shower and your skin melts into wet bacon and worms? Happened to me yesterday, I watched as the maggots slopped off my flesh and were helplessly swept into the drain, I still hear their voices, begging to be freed from the pipes.

[smoothiedreams]

So-

I think the radioapple is affecting my mind recently

[Says this after having consumed the content for hours]

I'd like to talk about what drew me to this couple dynamic in the first place.

Because I like all the tension between them, especially after the music that the show brought us, but for me to appreciate this ship I needed to find a common point between the two characters that would unite them.

I think it was the primary difference between them that attracted me to everything. Because yes, they are both in hell, one is a terrible sinner and the other is Satan himself.

But Lucifer is also an Angel, a fallen angel. A supernatural creature that was at the beginning of creation.

And Alastor was once a human. He lived among humans and lived among their customs. Yes, he was a killer. But he also had to disguise himself and hide ( unlike hell where he didn't need to hide his homicidal and cannibalistic tendencies )

So in its essence one was once a majestic being that did not come into direct contact with its creation.

And the other was once a simple, fragile, vulnerable piece of flesh.

But despite all this, Alastor always had the aura of being superior that affected people's lives and Lucifer feels like all other human beings.

I think this difference is where the space for them to create a connection lies. It's Lucifer being interested in human things. It's alastor to be fascinated by Lucifer's angelic nature.

I honestly think that Lucifer didn't have time to see how all humans evolved and the only contact he had with them was the sinners who arrived in hell (as we well know they are the worst of humanity).

So I think it would be cool, he learned a little about humanity through the most inhuman being in his view.

He looks for Alastor's vulnerabilities to tease him but despite everything he is still very much stuck in the image that the radio demon has set for himself of being powerful and cruel, so Lucifer doesn't think he can be anything else.

While Alastor forgets how powerful and divine Lucifer can be, despising the King of Hell because he presented himself as a "pathetic" figure in his view. Harmless and simple.

Lucifer letting his divine nature appear (like an angel for the first time observing a human, curious and confused, but still fascinated) while Alastor allows himself to have his human habits

[ropesbypatricia]

Rope Techniques: How I accommodate crepe/thin skin when I tie

I thought I'd drop some techniques I like to use when I'm self-tying or tying another human with thin/crepe skin

What is crepe skin?

"Crepey skin is thin and looks finely wrinkled like crepe paper. It may also sag or feel loose. While crepey skin is similar to common wrinkles in many ways, the condition tends to impact larger areas, and this skin feels noticeably more fragile and thin..."

What causes crepe skin?

Lots of things included but not limited to: sun damage, aging, rapid weight loss or gain, certain genetic disorders, smoking, alcohol use, and dehydration

How is crepe skin different than non-crepe skin?

It is thinner, less elastic, and more prone to bruise, rip, and damage when under stress, pressure, injury

How do I as a rope top account for my own or another's crepe skin in rope bondage?

I recommend wearing comfortable, form-fitting clothes over the areas of the body I might be tying that have creping. I almost always wear leggings and a camisole or bodysuit when I'm tying myself for practice and development - tying directly over slack skin, especially as a beginner, can be a very tricky and painful experience - I recommend practicing over clothing and then moving to implement your practice onto your exposed flesh if you choose

Speaking on tender flesh: Running your fingers underneath a rope line which is wrapping crepe skin can be a pretty miserable and pinchy affair as the flesh has a tendency to stay with your finger as you move to clear the lines, and can easily find itself pinched between the ropes and your finger 🥲

Instead of running my finger under my rope, I gently pull the skin away from any areas where it has become nipped or grabbed up in the rope - a similar technique is useful when working with adipose tissue

Stay well-hydrated if possible - keep your skin clean, exfoliated and moisturized. I find happy skin plays best with rope, and my skin is happiest these days when I'm hydrated, dry-rubbed, and well-oiled 😌

I understand that the risk for side effects like bruising, rope marks, rope burns, etc.. is higher in crepe regions than in skin that is more elastic and collagen-rich. I can use what I find to be best practices to minimize risks, but I acknowledge that the base line for the skin's vulnerability to dermal injury is higher to begin with

If you have any questions you think I can answer or any tips for working with thin skin and rope you'd like to share, please lmk!

Happy roping to you all ❤️➰❤️

[randomreader92]

Hazbin Biohazard AU

Based on the AUs from @nunalastor's posts

Notes for pre-Baker Estate Alastor:

His smile is still present but less unhinged.

Alastor has some trauma from an abusive father and serving in the trenches as a Radio Operator but is still a relatively normal guy... for now.

Alastor is an up-and-coming radio host and waiter.

Alastor was roommates with his best friend Guy Winters, a detective, who went missing during a case. After three years of hounding the local police, spreading the word on the radio and amateur detective work, Alastor finally receives news via a letter written in Guy's handwriting asking him to come to the Baker Estate.

He comes armed with a hunting rifle since Guy is likely in danger.

Alastor does call Mimzy to let her know what's going on, just in case.

Notes for Beginner Baker Estate Alastor:

He thought he was prepared for anything. He was not.

Manages to fight off a crazed Guy with his rifle, only to get ambushed and then shot by Jack. By his own rifle, no less.

That Jack Baker is bringing back all sorts of repressed childhood trauma.

He is force fed the "Special Feast" Marguerite made for him before the cop can interrupt them.

He finds the Officer (an older white gentleman) through the window and tries to ask for help but isn't understood. The man is dismissive of Alastor's ramblings, accusing him of trespassing and maybe even being the one responsible for the disappearances in the area.

This experience taints Alastor's perception of the Police (not that he had a high opinion to begin with).

Despite his dismissiveness, the Officer is compassionate enough to give the clearly terrified Alastor a knife to defend himself.

Notes for Expert Baker Estate Alastor:

He is no longer terrified of the horrors around him, just so very tired.

Neither Guy nor Alastor was happy with their decision to “put down” Eveline, a severely traumatised victim of abuse, but the danger she posed to herself, and the world, was too great to be allowed to continue.

Alastor has a stronger psychic bond with Eveline than the others because he understands what she’s feeling. He remembers what it was like, being a powerless child surrounded by adults who are either indifferent to your suffering or active participants in it… and the catharsis of striking back against your abusers and finally having the power to take control of your own fate? He knows it all too well.

Notes for Post-Baker Estate Alastor:

After the Baker Estate, Alastor has a new mission; to hunt down those involved with the creation of the E-Type series and those who abuse the fairer means.

It is during these hunts that Alastor notices, even though Eveline and her Mold is gone, he still has a craving for human flesh and rotting meat. He starts making a secret meat box specifically for himself, so that Guy never finds out. However, Guy is a detective and figures it out anyway.

Chris and Alastor become good friends after the Baker Estate, Chris acting almost like an older brother figure to Al. Chris even calls him “a good guy” when Alastor confesses to his guilt over Eveline’s death after one too many drinks. However, Chris does notice Alastor’s darker tendencies coming to the surface as the years went on but is unsure of how to act on it.

Guy is diagnosed with a incurable lung condition as a result of the exposure to the Mold and poor living conditions at the Baker House.

Due to Guy’s fragile physical health, Alastor starts overworking in order pay the medical bills to the point of mental and physical exhaustion. They get into fights over it, with Guy begging Alastor to “please look after yourself!”

At some point, Guy accidently gets another woman pregnant. When the woman confesses that she doesn’t want a child, he decides to take the newborn in himself after discussing it with Alastor.

Alastor was secretly terrified a little nervous about living with a child, but it was love at first sight.

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

Fuck it Friday

tagged by @folk-fae @eddiediaaz @rewritetheending @wildlife4life @exhuastedpigeon @messyhairdiaz @spotsandsocks @jeeyuns @transboybuckley @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @theotherbuckley @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz

thank you lovelies! 💖

here is a good chunk from paint sex fic that i wrote in a daze last night and that i am needing validation for asdfggjkll (and uhhh it's not paint sex but i think ya'll are used to that by now)

“I���m gonna need more than that,” Eddie says carefully, tightening his grip on Buck’s hand so he doesn’t slip away, and ducking his head to catch Buck’s nervously wandering eyes. “What exactly has you so upset? Is it–is it me?” He knows he has a tendency to be difficult and obstinate, unwilling to move when he has firmly planted himself somewhere, and that these past few weeks have been filled with him shooting down each suggestion Buck has made. Perhaps he has been too coarse, too self-centered, too focused on his own likes and dislikes, too blinded by the tunnel vision he so easily falls into.  The thought that he has been that way with Buck makes his stomach roll unpleasantly and he can’t fight the grimace that twists at his face, his inner uncomfortable turmoil splashing across his features and leaving a sour taste in the back of his throat. An almost bleak horror stretches over Buck’s expression, making him go pale and nearly gaunt in the dim, wan light that surrounds them. “No. No, Eddie. It’s–It’s us.” Frustration wells up inside Eddie, knocking around his chest like a battering ram and curdling the breath the expels harshly from his nostrils. He brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to hold it all back, trying to use the pressure as a way to force down the crackling heat threatening to overtake him, begging to be released so it can consume him entirely until he fades away, nothing but ashes in the wind.  “What exactly does that mean?” he asks. “Because I’m just not getting it. You–Explain it to me, Buck, okay? Stop doing–” he breaks off and shakes his head, gesturing wildly between them with his free hand.  “I’m trying,” Buck grits out. “But–I don’t know. It’s so stupid, but if we can’t agree on this, on something as simple as a paint color, then–what does that mean? Surely that says something about us and I’m terrified of what it is and I’ve been going over and over it in my head, trying to puzzle out why we are so stuck on this, trying to understand why we aren’t on the same page, and I–” Eddie leans forward, the manic and rabid muscle in his chest pulling and tugging and ripping a flesh and bone, leaving him no choice but to get closer to Buck, to the person the animal in him wants more than anything. “Buck, hey, hey. Breathe, sweetheart,” he whispers, burying his reverence thirty feet deep and flinging it six stories high, passing it along to Buck in the hopes that the fragile, world-wrecking emotion will touch him in any way possible, eagerly traveling from Eddie's mouth and skin as he taps Buck’s chin and brushes the tip of his thumb against his bottom lip which had begun to tremble as Buck spoke.

tagging: @elvensorceress @spaceprincessem @try-set-me-on-fire @anxieteandbiscuits @captain-hen @lover-of-mine @housewifebuck @diazass @bigfootsmom @cowboy-buck @bucks118 @butchdiaz @transbuck @shortsighted-owl @buddierights @loserdiaz @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @forthewolves @eddiediaztho @thewolvesof1998 @king-buckley and anyone else who wants to share!

[tianrenart]

from that "directors cut" thing, my question is: what is your favorite aspect of both Vox and Alastor to write? It can be their own personal things or something about how they function together :)

Oh gosh this is a hard one. There are ao many things 🤣 and the possibility of going into a radiostatic foaming at the mouth rant while I talk about this is very high, so I apologize in advance.

Favorite aspect of Vox to write is his ego, and the possibility that it’s actually very fragile. So big bad CEO, large and incharge but he lets himself be mistreated because he secretly loathes himself. This loathing I usually tie to his looks. It’s easy to do when writing in canon because he’s a TV, but in my human AU he’s obsessed with wrinkles and aging and uses a lot of skincare products/talks about botox. Most ppl with (I hesitate to use this word but can think of no other. Just know I am not using it as a clinical term) narcissistic tendencies actually have very fragile egos. They cover up/ignore their insecurities coming off as very confident and in control. That’s Vox to me. Hints this line in Tuesday :

“Vox groaned not realizing how much he agreed with the statement. Never understanding where his needs to be degraded came from. He just wanted to hear how stupid he was. How little he meant. He wanted his deepest insecurities confirmed. That he was never and could never be loved. He wanted it repeated over and over again so that maybe his heart would stop longing for the things he wasn’t good enough to deserve. Like Alastor’s affection. Even if the radio demon loved him it only caused him pain, because Vox was fundamentally flawed, and he wanted to hear that.”

Favorite thing to write about Alastor, is his dark side and the possibility that he’s using that to actually cover up a bleeding heart. So what I mean by that is that Alastor leans into being a monster/killer to keep ppl at arms length because he’s tired of being disappointed by others when they find things out about him. It’s also an ego game but instead of getting his confidence from control in business/sucess he gets it from having the power to control someone’s life. Obviously this is most blatant in killing, that’s the ultimate control of life. Consumption of flesh is also controlling what the body is used for. It’s literally used to feed his ego. He can kill and eat you and there is nothing you can do about it. He’s scary and horrible so either fall in line or run away. Now he’s controlling the image you have of him and how you react towards him. Can’t be disappointed that ppl runaway scared when that’s what you MADE them do. But I think that Alastor actually craves human connection and relationships, as seen in the show with his conversation with Nifty. He just doesn’t want to let his guard down. He doesn’t want to lose control or make a mistake. I write Alastor as supressing his emotions to the point that he makes himself sick in Tuesday. The nausea is self inflicted and because of that it’s easy for him to brush off the headaches too. It’s his body physical rejection his true feelings, heart and mind battling it out. I honestly believe Alastor has anxiety and I write his anxiety exactly how I experience it myself. It’s not sympathetic. What I mean by that is me and Alastor default to fight instead of flight or fawn. Alastor is going to lash out and destroy what scares him and if that thing is his own heart then he’ll rip it out.

My favorite thing about writing them together is how obsession can lead to acceptance. Instead of writing Vox’s obsession with Alastor as him putting Al on a pedestal, I write it as him loving Alastor while fully acknowledging all the horrible dark things he is. Once Alastor figures out nothing he does seems to gef rid of Vox he also becomes obsessed. Obsessed with seeing what he can get away with, obsessed with the possibility that someone loves him despite it all. In refurn he accepts Vox’s affection because they see each other and don’t judge the darkness inside the other. To me that’s true intamcy, that’s true romance. Not writing poems and songs about all the good qualities of a partner but accepting the bad and still believing they are lovable, which in turn leads to the person wanting to be better because now they believe they can be. If someone can love them and all their fucked up shit, then there must be something good, something worth cultivating. Redemption through acceptance.

[koukaaa-descent]

ALSO TELL ME ABOUT LAMP PLEASE

YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!! HI HOLLIE HI ROSE

lamp isn’t technically an oc I was just thinking Damn… wouldnt it be funny if a jester had a mask and it glowed when it was popped and it was like a fucked up desk lamp… and then things Happened in my brain.

Lamp is roughly 26 years old and will probably reach the age of 45, contrary to normal jester lifetimes (up to 150). this is definitely because of the mask latched onto its right eyesocket, slowly devouring it!

It has not ever met Indigo or Monsoon, and it’s sort of debatable whether or not it exists in the same universe.

Together, the jester and mask create a gestalt :] (in simpler meanings. think of the relationship parasitic fungi have with ants, minus the immediate death of the host!)

The jester half of the relationship is mostly conscious and deeply murderous. The mask half is significantly more docile in behaviors, relating to a regular masked’s habitual stalking and whatnot. It’s not exactly used to possessing a body that’s not explicitly human shaped, so there’s been some complications.

As time progresses, Lamp (as a singular entity) will decay as any usual host will. At one point, the jester half will be subsumed by the mask and entirely absorbed and overtaken.

The reason there’s a mask latched onto its skull is because some random employee majorly panicked and threw a comedy mask at it, which actually helped them escape.

Lamp is constantly bleeding. Normally, a jester doesn’t explicitly bleed; it’s just a mushy mass of preserved flesh that’s nowhere near as fragile as it seems. Because of the mask’s slow consumption and the depth that the mask’s roots have dug into as well as its small amount of experience regarding non-humanoid hosts, Lamp is basically dealing with over a dozen open wounds at all times! Existing is agonizing!

Since the jester wasn’t fully possessed during the first initial attempt, the mask is only able to influence its behaviors and subtly direct it to do other things. For example, if lamp were to chase down a crew mate and the mask didn’t want said crew mate to die yet, it would be able to slow its movements and redirect it briefly in order to give that individual a little more time. It’s not able to stop Lamp from killing them, however.

Lamp does not need to eat. It’s actually unable to because of the mask’s roots. It’s… not a pretty sight, inside of the box. It’s really not.

Collectively they combined create ‘lamp’. Otherwise, they’re both just regular individuals of both species.

Lamp cannot wind very quickly, and the song is very broken up. Leave it to a mask to mangle all of the careful things going on in the box (the jester is very pissed about this but cannot do anything about it)

The jester is effectively blind. The mask is not. The jester has an amazing sense of hearing and senses vibrations very well. Combined, you’ve got every crew’s worst nightmare—if Lamp can actually wind itself. It takes longer than two minutes, that I can assure you.

There was one single occasion when Lamp fell down a flight of stairs. It was embarrassing, because there was another masked at the bottom. Lamp mauled it out of embarrassment and generally murderous instinct. (The mask itself was not happy about this.)

The relationship it has with other Masked is very very complicated. Over time, as the jester half is consumed, affectionate interactions come easier. Currently, about two months into being stuck together, Lamp has a greater tendency to avoid masked or otherwise murder them. The instinct to grab them and shake like a rabid dog is so prevalent that the Mask cannot even begin to attempt to suppress it.

It Can vomit blood as a regular masked would. It’s kind of like a firehose, though. Like, yknow how a pressure washer can remove flesh from bone? Short range with a very long ‘recharge’. Mainly because there’s not as much blood in its body as you’d expect.

They are two individual beings shoved into one body, one of which is significantly ’fainter’ than the other. There has been more than one occasion where the jester half has attempted to claw the mask off with its singular hand. It has not worked.

Yes, the blood boils. It’s steadily eroding Lamp’s ‘skull’ away, and eating through the box. The skull will eventually have enough grooves and wedges that it just falls apart. The box will experience this as well.

It’s not outright hate; the jester dislikes the mask as one would dislike a spider trapped in their closet. Annoying. Not really bothered by death, just sort of begrudgingly wandering around with it. It doesn’t have the real capability to remove it nor does it retain enough of itself to hate it.

i barely think about lamp im ngl … I made all of this up on the spot thankyou 2 for askign..

[edward-sterling]

(JONATHAN BAILEY, CISGENDER MALE, HE/HIM) Oh, is that EDWARD STERLING? I heard they THIRTY-TWO year old is EMPATHETIC. But don’t let that pretty face fool you, they are also TEMPERAMENTAL. Makes sense seeing how they are a CLEAN civilian who works as a TRAUMA PHYSICIAN AT MOUNT SINAI. (hyacinth, 30s, cst, she/her)

i. about him

full name — cassian edward "eddie" sterling nicknames — eddie, ian, cas age — 32 gender — cisgender male pronouns — he/him orientation — homoromantic homosexual birthday — november 23rd zodiac — sagittarius birthplace — wallingford, oxfordshire in england ethnicity — english languages — english, loose french and italian (enough to understand context but difficulty speaking either) height — 5'11" hair color — brown eye color — brown scars — a long horizontal stripe above his left collarbone, where he was attacked a few short years ago. when asked about it, he has a tendency to run his fingers over it nervously, and always stammers in his effort to change the subject. tattoos — he doesn't have any, though he wouldn't be opposed to getting one — but deciding what to get and where is the hardest part. pets — none, he doesn't have the time but he wishes he did. employment — trauma physician at mount sinai in new york city.

ii. personality

positive traits — ambitious. charming. empathetic. loyal. outgoing. resourceful. negative traits — evasive. impatient. indecisive. oversensitive. temperamental. likes — the sun, rainstorms, traveling, cooking, reading, black tea, collecting tickets, trinkets and souvenirs of places he has been, deadpan humor, gift giving. dislikes — loud noises, wasting food items, death, meditation, being alone with his thoughts, coffee, being woken up before the sun comes up, switchblades. phobias — trypophobia and ophidiophobia. habits — chewing on his lower lip until it is raw. fidgeting with pens until the ink gets all over his hands. obsessive organization. smoking when stressed. journaling. hobbies — cooking and baking, gardening but he has a black thumb, various collections of items (unique socks, art and coins), ceramics (pottery), knot tying.

iii. background

from an early age, eddie showed an innate charm that made him the heart of every room he entered. but beneath his easy smile lay a restless sort of energy, a mix of impatience and sensitivity that often led him to overthink even the simplest of situations. it was a duality he carried into adulthood, one that allowed him to adapt and thrive in challenging situations but also kept him on uneven footing with those closest to him. eddie has always had a way of keeping people at arm’s length, as though afraid that letting them in too deeply might unearth something even he isn't ready to face. the memory of his brother’s traumatic death a few years ago — and the harrowing circumstances surrounding it — has left eddie uneasy in the presence of violence along with the physical mark of a scar notched into his left collarbone as a constant reminder of his fragility and resilience. though he avoids discussing the incident, his fingers often trace the mark absentmindedly, revealing an undercurrent of vulnerability he would be quick to deny if confronted with it. the precarious experience deepened his already-present dislike for switchblades, and it has instilled a wariness of situations that feel out of his control and has been known to trigger panic attacks. losing his brother ignited something fierce within him — a need to give every patient the care, compassion, and safety he couldn’t give to his own flesh and blood. eddie poured himself into his work, often to the point of exhaustion, putting the needs of others before his own in a relentless pursuit of purpose and his altruism comes at a cost. his insistence on being there for everyone else left little room for himself, a fact he stubbornly refused to acknowledge, and he continues to try to be a ray of sunshine even on days where the clouds are darkest. his structured, quiet life has become both a sanctuary and a prison. in the end, it feels like the world is always pulling him back into the deep, dark underbelly of new york.

fate is often inevitable in that way.

iv. headcanons

— despite his best efforts and his love for gardening, eddie has a "black thumb." no matter how hard he tries, his plants inevitably die. he worries the same would happen if he were to get a pet.

[transmutationisms]

New to your blog and enjoying it heavy. The bodily superiority convo reminded me of the opening scene of the series. Logan pissing on his penthouse carpet in the dark. Any illusion of Logan's inborn superiority doesn't get the chance to bloom, I've always relished in the writers introducing us to him and their world like that. It sets the stage so well for their politics: the decline of an empire and fragility of capital. I actually doubt from hearing Jesse Armstrong talk about the show that him and I would agree, but there's meat there to read into a politic I favor over the show's: before anything we live in flesh piss and bones that all morph beyond our control, before even a social contract we all share a common dependence on mutual assistance (the carpet's the wrong place to piss, and still Marcia reorients Logan back to bed with affection and concern), and the alienation and complication that capital introduces only ever comes after (it's only after that scene that we know anything about the business).

interesting. have you read kropotkin? i ask because he proposed mutual aid as a rational and beneficial social behaviour promoted via natural selection, directly critiquing huxley's social darwinism and its emphasis on the 'struggle for existence'. i also see some hint of rousseauvian historical thinking in your third point. both of these are, i would agree, foundational elements pointing toward a view of nature, the body, and evolution / degeneration that is radically different than the eugenic capitalist thinking by which logan runs his kingdom. if his argument is essentially that nature 'just is' competitive, cruel, and inclined toward the elimination of the weak, then your response (and kropotkin's, lol) would be that evolutionary theory and natural selection do not inherently need to be joined to these specific ideological dimensions, which upon closer inspection are in fact specifically capitalist in nature. thus logan's beliefs about power, strength, and domination are not simple observations of natural truths, but deeply political assertions he is economically staking out, and specifically the fact that he is tormented by his own aging and loss of health is a function of his eugenic capitalist ideology and the profit-driven abandonment of natural cooperative tendencies to care for one another.

obviously i can't speak for jesse armstrong, but i don't think the show is hostile to such an argument. it's maybe a bit more strongly anarchist than is in vogue in anglo leftist politics these days, but probably not disqualifyingly so. i think though that what you might be picking up is that the show is simply not as interested in offering an alternative to logan's thinking as it is interested in exploring the internal ramifications of logan's thinking, and the accompanying bourgeois alienation. at times this may come with some risk of reifying a realist defence of logan's worldview, though i don't believe that's ever the intention of the writers. but i'll acknowledge that structuring the entire show around logan's bodily decline and his eugenic social darwinist understanding of it, without offering a coherent alternative reading of nature or evolutionary theory, may simply be somewhat bleak lol.

i would add that the work being done with matsson's character in 4x05 and mencken's character in 3x06 reinforces, to me, this fundamental interest in exploring the ramifications of capitalist discourses on the body rather than offering an alternative. matsson and mencken basically offer two slightly different ways of embracing open fascism where logan has been more tacitly fascistic in the past. there's no discontinuity between waystar and mencken's political spectacle or matsson's master race meritocracy, and that's certainly a critique of logan and his capitalist-fascist hierarchical and competitive thinking. but it's true that just outlining this type of critique is not the same as actually endorsing any other view of nature and human society, whether kropotkin's or someone else's.

i would be curious, though, to know what specific politic you DO see the show defending!

[selfspinninglies]

Bunch of random experimental character facts because I'm feeling generous [the hyperfixation is horrendous and I cannot shut up about them]

-when 1-2 and 1-3 met in the lab they would kick each other's asses all the time [1-2 started it and they would piss each other off a lot but they were both having fun]

-scientist had to fix 1-2 a lot because of this since [fun fact] it has a more fragile shell because of mistakes during the initial experiments [despite this 1-2 still kicks ass]

-1-2 takes up a lot of the mattress most of the time because it has a tendency to sprawl out in its sleep and 1-3 usually gets pushed to the end of the bed but ALSO has that habit so most of the time they're fighting for space . Also 1-2 is a blanket stealer

-all of the experiments can eat stuff that isn't human flesh [except for 1-0 cause she's dead el oh el] but it doesn't do anything for them it's just for leisure/fun/etc

-1-1 and 1-0 knew each other [they were in a relationship] [i say were since 1-0 is dead] before the lab so when they met there again they were stuck together like glue

- None of them remember anything before the lab besides 1-1 and 1-0 because 1-0 died before it could happen and 1-1 escaped from the lab before it could happen

-1-2 and 1-3 met a few times before the lab and were well acquainted [their pre-lab relationship makes me ill, as does their post-lab one sighhh]

-there were a lot of mistakes made during the experimentation on 1-2 so he's really fucked up physically and has a lot of cracks along his body

-1-1 also got fucked up really bad but that was on purpose , her body is a lot weirder but she's stronger than the others by a good margin

-1-3 didn't handle it well mentally and was really volatile for a while but physically was relatively okay

-they try to hide it but 1-3 is a clingy motherfucker [as shown in the thing I wrote with them when he started cuddling randomly]

-1-2 will hang/lean on 1-3 a lot and he pretends to be annoyed about it . Also 1-2 will hold hands and not realize it he's silly like that

-1-3 is a shutin and gets dragged outside by 1-2 all the time , who can't stay in for too long w/o losing it but also hates going alone

-1-3 is really afraid of bugs for no reason . 1-2 really likes bugs so if there's one in the apartment it'll pick it up and show it to 1-3 n put it close to him n he hates it soooo much

That's it for now but i might have more later

[snail-speed-6]

Is Hamlet's Behaviour Inexcusable?

Hamlet analysis again yay!!! This time focused on responsibility, accountability, and partially exploring the truthfulness of Hamlet's "antic disposition".

Hamlet is used as a medium to explore accountability and justification of actions. While Hamlet undoubtedly causes harm to many other characters throughout the play in his pursuit of revenge, his sanity is vague enough to encourage the audience to question for themselves whether Hamlet can truly be blamed for the harm he causes, or whether his insanity - a product of his situation - forces him to act in unpleasant and sinful ways.

Shakespeare writes Hamlet in a way that, through his deeply personal soliloquies and generous amount of lines, invites each viewer to personally judge his character and hopefully reflect on how far their own behaviour towards others can be seen as inexcusable, or not. Perhaps this was Shakespeare’s attempt to advance critical thinking and self reflection in his audience and in wider Jacobean and Elizabethan society, as during these eras plays were often used as a way to communicate moral lessons to the viewer.

But anyway, back to the prince himself; at the beginning of the play, Hamlet’s behaviour towards others is entirely excusable as he attempts to navigate a new world of grief in which no one seems to share, or understand, his emotions. Even before Hamlet embarks on his quest for revenge, the death of his father and remarriage of his mother drives him to suicidal ideation, wishing that his “flesh could melt and resolve itself into a dew”. There is very little violence or intentional bad behaviour towards others, as his melancholy mood is a product of his grief and is turned inward toward himself. Hamlet also laments that god has “fixed his canon 'gainst self slaughter”, displaying the proper Jacobsen Christian view of suicide as a sin and protraying Hamlet as a relatively moral character to the heavily Christian audience.

As the play continues, Hamlet repeatedly berates himself over his procrastination and calls himself a “rogue and peasant slave…unpregnant of my cause”. He seems to forget that his theory of the ghost being sent from hell could be true, and acts as though he has all the opportunity in the world to kill Claudius, but for someone in such a fragile state of mental health such as Hamlet, even day to day life might have been hard for him to wade through. And it is not only the ghost that haunts him; Hamlet has the weight of an impending war and the turmoil of Denmark behind him, and each action he takes to, or further from, his revenge could ripple throughout the country. Many criticise Hamlet's tendency to overanalyze and procrastinate his every action, but they seem to forget that Hamlet would understand one wrong move within the court could bring about chaos much worse than his own death; as we see with Fortinbras' conquest at the end of the play.

Audiences often fall into the trap of taking Hamlet’s word for truth, but from Hamlet we only see a self-critical view drenched in unrealistically high standards from a person dealing with probable depression in a time where the words ‘psychology’ and ‘mental health’ meant nothing. As Critic Ryan states, because ‘The time is out of joint’, there’s no way [Hamlet] could ‘set it right’ just by killing Claudius.” But this is the pressure that Hamlet puts upon himself anyway. In a modern setting, Hamlet as a character would probably receive much less blame for the events his procrastination causes, because the audience would recognise the extent to Hamlet’s troubles better than from watching the play through the unknowing lens of the 16th century. How can Hamlet’s actions be inexcusable, when he bears witness to his own father’s ghost (whom he is still in mourning for) and is commanded to kill his uncle, the king? Who wouldn’t flounder under the same pressure?

As the play continues, Hamlet’s actions become more and more questionable, leading to much controversy over the morality of his character and behaviour. His treatment of Ophelia is brutal, frightening, and deeply misogynistic. Although Claudius is one of the least trusted characters (for killing his own brother and marrying his sister-in-law) the audience may agree with him that Hamlet's words in this scene are not driven by madness, and even as an outburst of grief or anger it is severely misdirected; starting Ophelia’s journey to her own madness and eventually death. Additionally when he kills Polonius, Hamlet discards the old man as an “intruding fool”, expressing no guilt whatsoever for his actions, and seemingly having no cause for the murder other than the expectation he was being spied on by Claudius.

These scenes make it difficult to justify Hamlet’s excusability and are often the focal point of arguments criticising the prince. As the protagonist of a tragedy, he is genre-bound to play a role in his demise, and by acting as a tragic hero in these scenes his hamartia and descent from morality is highlighted. Hamlet may have suspected Polonius was working closely with Claudius, but Hamlet himself had already shown that speculation is not grounds for murder, and so this cannot be justified.

When Hamlet returns from England he seems excited to tell Horatio about his plot to kill Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, repeatedly asking Horatio to prompt him with “But wilt thou hear now how I did proceed?” and “Wilt thou know th’effect to what I wrote?” He appears proud and almost boasting, treating the affair like a game he has cleverly won. When Horatio summises “So Rosencrantz and Guildenstern go to’t”, Hamet is quick to justify their deaths and announce his lack of guilt for the murder of two which were once his good friends. Where Frued argues Hamlet thinks he could be “no better than the sinner [Claudius] whom he is to punish”, I believe instead he has literally become more like the ‘sinner’, as his recounting of Rosencratnz and Guildestnern’s upcoming demise sounds incredibly reminiscent of Claudius when he says “Till I know tis done, howe’er my haps, my joys were ne’er begun.” The excitement and joy of the deed draws the line between a product of situation, and an inexcusable action.

However, Hamlet’s supposed joy could be yet another sign of his disconnect with reality and how his “antic disposition” is no longer an act. Although Hamlet appears more sane and clear headed after his return, his constant theatrical allusions such as “they had begun the play” and “a prologue to my brains”, and a semantic field of imagery with “For the image of my cause I see the portraiture of his.” tell a different story. As Critic Woods suggests, Hamlet’s “way of understanding and dealing with his situation is pointedly theatrical”. His excitement could be a way to distance himself from the pain of reality: his treatment of this like a game is nothing more than a coping mechanism. Shakespeare himself enforces the game-like nature of the play by having it end in tragedy during what was masked as a friendly competition.

Here is the climax of Hamlet’s madness; the death of his family, Laertes, and himself shown to the audience as a poorly ended game. Almost as if by watching and learning through Hamlet’s perspective the audience is drawn into his madness too.

Truly, a large part of Hamlet’s tragedy is how many critics and audiences still agree with the self-loathing Hamlet of Act 1, and fail to see how he is still the same character at the end of the play, only forced to act out the consequences of falling to other means of perceiving the word around him.

If you made it to the end, thanks for reading! Feel free to argue/debate anything I've said or add something I might've missed?

Any additions or contradictions/criticism is welcome!!

[helluvaxhazbin]

@dragcns-den

Headcanons for crimson and lucille cause I love them already.

They met through her interviewing for the maid/cook position. He fell for her at first sight. Definitely greeted her the same way he greeted millie. With a kiss to the hand. Hired her partly cause he was into her. Luck just so had where she was also capable at the jobs required.

The baby they eventually have is a girl. Mostly takes from the mother but has an imp tail and horns. She's red fur with black flesh underneath. They name her penelope but she goes by penny for short. Total daddy's girl. Gets the opposite treatment that moxxie got.

Crimson and lucille getting married after like three months of dating. He already decided he wanted to get hitched again before they met and lucille happened to fall into his lap.

He doesn't want to hurt her. Crimson even if he would never admit it regrets killing his wife and doesn't wanna make the same mistakes. I think he would have possessive and controlling tendencies with lucille but he wouldn't hit her and would stop himself from doing so. Especially since he views her as fragile.

He's overly protective of her and assigned guards to watch over her and accompany her places when he's doing business and she has to be outside the home.

His worst nightmare is her finding out about him killing his previous wife. He's terrified she would leave or be afraid of him because of it. So he makes sure moxxie doesn't open his mouth about it.

She along with their daughter is spoiled rotten by crimson. She gets anything she wants. I imagine her wedding dress cost thousands and their wedding was a huge event.

[wildfairies]

What is your Fallen Hero MC like?

GLAD U ASKED!!!! 😈 my mc page is outdated but there is a bit about jamie there. ignore her short sleeved shirt tho.

jane marie "jamie" burke, aka entropy, is a vigilante through-and-through, working to dismantle corrupt systems without hurting civilians. she's tech-savvy and strategic. her emotional state is extremely fragile, and she keeps it intact through stoicism and deflection. ortega was always good at seeing past that, though, and the desire for revenge that had kept her going began unraveling as soon as she saw him again. jamie doesn't want to be a villain, but truly believes she has no choice thanks to her self-hatred and self-destructive tendencies.

i have two more that i'm working on fleshing out, tentatively named amber (heraldmancer, currently too similar to jamie) and sara (ruthless argentmancer).

[lumiellle]

“fragment of the past”; haikaveh, g. 🌱🏛️

pre relationship, pre falling-out, akademiya days

When the first raindrops fall, Kaveh throws open the door to the gardens and walks right into the spray. The first shy drops evolve into a heavy downpour within minutes, but Kaveh, dressed in his ink-stained Akademiya robe, stretches out his arms as if to welcome the rain, letting it beat down onto his face.

Alhaitham watches from under the cover of the door frame where the warmth and security of the halls of the Akademiya meet the harsh outside world. His heart is still beating rapidly; filled with anger and pounding painfully with fear.

Kaveh’s words ring in his head, fresh thorns biting into the soft flesh of his bared throat. Why won't you understand me? Hah, how can you, when all you care about is yourself!

This is not the first time they’ve fought, but it feels like it’s the first time that matters. The feeling did not arise from Kaveh’s words, but from the way he said them, frantic eyes blazing like hot iron. Kaveh’s voice has a tendency to grow loud, to overheat into something higher-pitched and fragile when he gets upset. Today, bent over the data collection for their thesis work, his voice turned frigid and sharp, cutting right into the protective layer of feigned indifference covering Alhaitham’s weak spot: his heart. He barely remembers the words he said in return; he doesn’t want to. He knows they fell on deaf ears anyway.

Instead of calling for him, he watches Kaveh’s form sway left to right. His arms drop down to his sides, but he keeps his face pointed at the canopy of twigs and leaves above, eyes closed. Usually, Alhaitham can tell with notable accuracy the essence of what goes on inside Kaveh’s mind. But now the idea of what he might find if he looks too deep into it is enough to scare him away. He knows that he won’t like what he’ll see. It’s only a matter of time. This, he knows too. Even if they make up and continue their work, continue their friendly teasing and playflighting, the underlying roots of their differences will likely continue to grow stronger, until one day, they’ll crack open the fundament of their friendship.

Alhaitham inhales a lungful of the humid air, willing the tension within his body to dissipate. He should bring Kaveh inside. He has a spare set of clothes tucked away in his bag. They may be a little big on Kaveh, but they should do. For some reason, he can’t bring his feet to move. He is forced to stay put and watch Kaveh stand motionless in the pouring rain, something so painfully unfitting for him who is a child of blue skies and blooming fields. Kaveh should be dancing, his feet light, in the gentle spray of a summer shower, flowers adorning his blond hair as he twirls and twists around himself, a hand outstretched in invitation. Alhaitham has never seen Kaveh dance. This realization pains him more than he expected. Kaveh has been focusing all of his energy on elevating others, leaving little strength to use on himself, when he has the potential to rise up and shine so much brighter than anyone else. Maybe what pains him most is that he cannot take the responsibility from Kaveh. Just like he can’t make the rain stop or deter Kaveh from subjecting himself to it, he cannot live Kaveh’s life for him, make his decisions for him. He can only use his words and hope that one day Kaveh will understand them.

It takes him a long while to tear himself away. When he returns to their work space, he tidies up the desk, rolls up Kaveh’s sketches, and returns the books to their rightful places. Eventually he pulls out his spare clothes from his bag. Next to Kaveh’s belongings, he sets them neatly on the chair Kaveh had been using. Then, he sits in his own chair and waits for Kaveh to return to him.

After twenty minutes of waiting, he is alerted of Kaveh’s presence by the wet squelching of his soaked shoes and the continuous dripping sound of water hitting the floor.

“Change into these,” Alhaitham says, looking up and pointing at the fresh set of clothes. Kaveh’s expression is unreadable, his lips pressed together tightly, as if he’s trying to hold back the words sitting on his tongue. He won’t meet Alhaitham’s eyes. Kaveh takes the clothes and disappears to the bathrooms without uttering a single word. Alhaitham is left behind, waiting once again.

They should talk about it. If they are to continue their research, if they are to remain friends, they need to talk about it.

But when Kaveh returns, clad in Alhaitham’s clothes, he has a wry smile stamped onto his lips. His hair is still drenched, clinging to his cheeks and neck in thick strands. Some excess water has already seeped into the fabric of the sweater Alhaitham lent him.

“Let’s forget that happened, okay?” These are the first words Kaveh says to him.

“Kaveh,” Alhaitham starts reflexively, his rib cage feeling tight again.

Kaveh grabs his bag and his notebooks, apparently unwilling to sit down. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he says, the finality of it dominating the conversation in a way that leaves no room for discussion. How cruel, Alhaitham thinks. When Kaveh takes his words from him, what else is he supposed to do but wait for it to blow over? How can he make it alright when he cannot communicate with Kaveh? The silence that follows is stifling.

“...Alright,” Alhaitham finally concedes.

“Perfect,” Kaveh says, shoulders relaxing. Without another word he turns on his heel and leaves.

Alhaitham stays, eyes fixed idly on the table they’ve been using to work together, where they’ve secretly snacked on sweets, taken power naps, and made meaningful conversation. Bereft of his words, Alhaitham heaves a sigh of defeat.

One year later, after a dozen similar arguments and well after the explosive fight that resulted in Kaveh forcefully removing himself from his life, Alhaitham realizes that Kaveh never returned the clothes he borrowed from him that rainy day.

[i-spilled-my-soup]

some thoughts

there exists much. many things are not good nor kind. but from anything, from everything, something can be gained; something can be learned.

what is the weight of a "good" versus a "bad"? everyone has a different frame of reference, so to speak, for what is "good" and "bad." for each individual existing at each given moment, there exists separate and independent criteria for "good" and "bad" and their respective weights. there must also exist separate and independent mechanisms for independent scales upon which "good" and "bad" are measured, "balanced out."

the human tendency, it seems to me, is to notice the "bad": the unsightly, the unfair, the cruel, the unforgivable and irreparable and unchanging. news these days may serve as evidence. most is depressing: for people like being warned; all is controversial, for people like to argue. while every frame of reference sits at a separate "tipping point," most are shifted toward the negative. the elimination of "bad" is prioritized, and the mundane "good" is forgotten. this does well for survival, the protection of fragile life and flesh, whose present fate is independent of past safeties, glories.

but, the pain of seeing mostly or only the "bad," in one's scales perpetually unbalanced, with one side impossible to lift off the ground, is a threat to the survival of the "mind" and "heart," whose sickness oft also plagues the "flesh."

picture, now, the experiences of this hour in my life of many many hours.

i walked upon a floor. it was cold, but i found a pair of house slippers, and then my feet were no longer cold.

i brushed my teeth, and flossed them, and felt that they were cleaner than they'd been in the previous hour.

a lamp gave me light, but shone in my eyes a bit, and i was able to readjust the lampshade so that it didn't.

surely this must be the work of fate? that so easily one can overcome obstacles, banish discomforts? that the movement of a few moles of molecules, the emission of meager electrical waves, can make one's heart and soul flutter and bloom and burst with gratitude?

glasswing butterflies. newton's laws. the cooling of lava. thread. plaster. there is so much beauty hidden in the folds of history, tucked away in the known universe's sleeve, that a minute recalibration of one's scales can leave one an absolute victim to joy and love.

i believe that the power of the human mind lies within its simplicity and obedience. it craves obedience to rules etched over years and over minutes. if you erased or introduced a rule, or described a different interpretation of a rule, your way of thinking will change. we are easy to manipulate. and in the way that a parent might manipulate their child to be happy, through hugs and fairy tales and warm tea, might manipulate their child to believe that they have done well and everything will be okay, one can manipulate one's mind into loving more often. one can fashion themselves a pair of rose-tinted lenses, and weep at the beauty they see through them.

love is yet a danger. for in one's happiness one may not see warnings for what they are, may not see threats to their life as things to avoid. they may hurt people, never noticing, or never caring.

but for the case of one who is in a deficit of joy, who wishes for joy, i raise the oversimplified option of "lying" to oneself. for in a world so great, so deep, there are few things that are only truths or only lies. rather, it is a conscious manipulation of your personal philosophy, the filter that categorizes your experiences. interpretation and feeling are among if not the most subjective things that exist. if you can find a way to grip your frame of reference, and develop coordination with moving it, the world will change before your eyes.

we have so little control over what happens in our lives. the thing that we have greatest domain over is ourselves, our reactions. self-control may mean more than repression. piloting and comforting and conferring are options. it may soothe the heart to loosen the reins on your surroundings, and focus on shifting your frame of reference. a change in perspective may aid you to choose, or forge, a path.

[deus-sema]

Take Batman, for instance. Pop culture phenomenon. A hero adored all over the globe. Two of his prominent love interests are villains/antiheroines. There are countless other examples. In such cases, there won't be heated discourses on how it is unethical and what not.

Over years, much awareness has been drawn to the portrayal of female characters in media through ages in comparison with their male counterparts and rightfully so.

Yet, unfortunately, the tendency to throw all fictional women, no matter how different they might be from each other, under one umbrella of universal victimhood continues to prevail. Nor is there any debate on whether the minds of impressionable, young boys will get corrupted if they watch their favorite hero flirt with the villain.

Female heroes can hardly score a win because even if they are well written, fleshed out and layered with objectives, motivations and emotions of their own, they are, at the end of the day treated as fragile,ignorant creatures who cannot distinguish right from wrong and, hence, need to be sheltered from the bad, cruel world outside. It's either they 'do not need' love to be strong and if they do get a male love interest somehow then he has to be a completely safe option. Because dare a female hero face the same struggles and emotional turmoil that male heroes have to undergo in their arcs. Female characters still bear the brunt because when they aren't busy being reduced to one dimensional doormats, they get placed on a pedestal to be kept safe all the time. They cannot get down and play in the mud; they are not allowed to mess up.They are not allowed to have arcs, experience ups and downs and evolve as the story goes on.

This desire to protect a fictional female character from perceived danger is inadvertently directed towards real women - who're usually minding their own business and entertaining themselves with a villain/hero pairing - and the said women are subjected to condescension and all kinds of judgement and armchair diagnoses from strangers on the internet who are 'concerned' about their well being.

Such mentality needs to be kept in check, or better, nipped in the bud for it's not going to be long before this so called concern ends up morphing into justifications for practicing benevolent sexism which, in itself, is based on the regressive belief that women are too ignorant to make conscious decisions and face the consequences unless they are guided to the right path by a 'wiser' male figure.

There’s been a lot of talk about “misogyny” and “sexism” these past few days in the “Rings of Power” fandom concerning Sauron x Galadriel.

Quite conveniently no one is talking how male heroes get to flirt, kiss or even fuck with hot female villains without having their “heroism” put into question (literally ever action male hero ever created by Hollywood), but when the roles are reversed and it’s the female hero flirting with the hot male villains it’s suddenly “problematic” and we “need to talk about it”, and the villain has to be redeemed otherwise it’s “abusive”, and we need to “protect the women and children” from these representations.

And the medias where this happens are guilty of the same bias, mind you. Perhaps one day the film/TV industry will award the female heroes the same treatment as the male heroes. Until then, spare me the virtuous and patronizing speeches.