#Non-Human Life

[recsspecs]

Might not shoot a person but kill an ant; is the value of life determined by the size of the body or human-centric understandings of social contributions or responsibilities?

[ruporas]

need to exist in your warmth (id in alt)

[capesch-arts]

Food for the Dollins stans

Next ship imma do is something to do with either Yellow or KiY 🫣

[beartes22]

Season 2 Jayce with season 1 Viktor this, beard Jayce with young Viktor that….fools, all of you. I raise you, season 2 arc 2 Viktor and season 1 Jayce.

[cupophrogs]

Oliver just

Gently does this to Drew's leg.

“Cherub is a mind boggling balance of incredibly brave, and horrifically stupid. He handles things maturely, especially for one so detached from the suffering of this place, very often to his own detriment. Placing little value on his own state, and thus “risking it for the biscuit” far too much. Still, he is one who loves deeply, fiercely. And to allow such an Angel to damn himself for another, would be a sin most grievous.”

[roobiedo]

🎉🚲 THE POPSICLE BIKE IS HERE 🚲🎉

and its featuring all sorts of fun, fruity flavors! freshly picked from the food forests, blended and frozen into a familiar shape, then paired with a fancy floral cone. and all for free? F-YEAH

all the vendor asks for in return is to leave a nice message in the tags for him (or for his pet plant Pothony). so go ahead, choose your favourite!

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loooong exposition ahead, bear with me ok

when i was a primary school kid (like 7), there was a row of bushes lining the garden outside our classroom. and on them were clusters and clusters of tiny red flowers, bunched together like pre-made bouquets. they're called ixora, locally known as jejarum (needle).

somehow, mini me discovered that if you look real close at the center of each flower, you'll find a little tab in the shape of a sprout (that's the stigma). and if you gently tug on that tab, you'll pull out a flimsy, needle-like stick (that's the style). and at the end of that stick...... was a dollop of liquid gold (it's nectar).

at that age? it felt like hitting the jackpot! my friends and i we were SET. gluttony Gripped us as we descended upon those poor little flowers, sucking up every drop of nectar we could find, leaving a trail of bright red petals in our wake. yet it was never enough. of course it wasn't.

yeah i'm exaggerating but it really did feel like i committed a massacre ok 😭 i don't know that child anymore i've grown!! left their insatiable little shell behind!!!

anyway turns out that secret childhood hack wasn't much of a secret after all. my mum confessed to doing the exact same thing decades ago when she was younger, and a quick internet search shows that apparently its a pretty common bad habit/funny memory shared among people here. rite of passage. doesn't lessen my guilt though!

so here i am, exposing my baby crimes to the world, and holding myself accountable by making ixora-inspired concept art lol. sorry to these cultural icons my bad queens

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speaking of school, here's another nostalgic memory: the ice cream uncle.

this wasn't just a singular guy, but rather a League of Guys, with one common goal: make a quick buck from oblivious kids who, once again, were enthralled by the power of gluttony's grasp, and would pay anything for a taste of the nectarous after-school treat.

no guilt here though, was worth every cent.

they always had a diverse selection of goods: ice cream in cones, ice cream in cups, classic ice pops on a stick... but once in a while, we get what is essentially the local version of freezer pops. we call them 'ais krim malaysia', and under the burning sun they were a MESS to deal with. if you weren't devouring your icicle within 5 minutes of purchase, you'd be going home with a sticky bag of juice and a stained school uniform. and yet, i've never seen a kid walk away from an ice cream uncle without a smile on their face.

nowadays, ice cream uncles are an endangered species. big name brands and their store empires are chasing local vendors out of their niche. not to mention the hardships they face under increasingly abnormal weather patterns. plus, even if they did make a comeback, there's the issue of all that plastic waste. which brings me to...

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this concept art i made! (yeah we're finally getting to it!)

once again, i'm partnering 2 very loosely related pieces of my cultural backstory, with a sustainable twist. in my ideal solarpunk city, we're bringing street-side popsicles back into style, and packaging them in biodegradable membranes. in fact, our local favourite seaweed gelatin — agar-agar (the name originated here!) — is already being used for this sort of technology.

the pops also come with a reusable cone in the shape of an ixora flower. this way, we can still keep the tradition of getting a sugar rush from within its petals, without. y'know. stealing the primary food source away from native bugs who depend on it 💀

the umbrella could serve a function too... maybe the buds that make up the ends of its wire frame could glow in the dark? that'd look cool. oh and i did draw a classic motorbike here for the nostalgia factor, but let's pretend its an old model that got modded to run on renewable energy instead!

in terms of fashion... i highlighted parts of the outfits that are ixora inspired, including the shirt and bandana made from batik, a dyeing technique invented in our region. some other solarpunk aspects include a photovoltaic wide-brimmed hat, a layered frankenstein dress, and that... apron-skort thing that i made up on the spot. and that weird shirt. people in this city just like chopping up and swapping fabrics i guess!

so do u guys like pothony c:

[galaghiel]

a glimpse into my dark mind (oc i ship w ctommy in my runaway au)

[phoenixcatch7]

In love with the idea of captain marvel being Billy's imaginary friend. Like, it'd be so easy. Early depictions had them as almost fully separate people sometimes, like one soul with two minds, rather than just two filters like we mostly see now.

But imagine a Billy down on his luck, hurt and hiding from police and criminals alike, daydreaming the hours away as children do, taking inspiration from all the superheroes rising to fame, making little stories to play out his dreams of saving the world with a generic action doll he found while dumpster diving once. Most of the paint's rubbed off.

Red's his favourite colour, his comfiest jumper is a bright ruby even after all the grime and washes. Gold, too, it's shiny and warmer than silver! A hero cape is a must, big and eye catching! And he can fly, of course, like superman, and in his daydreams, when he's sore and frustrated after a long day's grind, his superhero is smart enough and knows all the right words to get the bullies to stop without resorting to fighting.

His superhero fantasy is one he spends a lot of time on, the first one he goes for when struggling to sleep at night, and he can picture it so clearly. Captain marvel is big and bright and kind, strong enough to lift the boxes for the old lady up the road who's moving all by himself, fast enough to catch Jamie who fell out of the tree on Saturday and broke his leg and couldn't come to class for weeks. He appears at the entrance to alleys when Billy is cornered, he steps up behind to cover for him when he gets caught shoplifting, he sits at the bus stop with him when it's pouring rain and the right bus doesn't seem to be coming.

And then the wizard comes, or rather whisks him away, and like a magician from a fairytale breathes life into his imaginary friend until Billy feels thrice his size and a million times more invincible.

From then on, captain marvel is a real hero, just like Billy is a real boy, and as one they save the whole city, and then the whole world, and get cats down from trees and help Mrs Victoria move the last of her boxes and she gives them a pinch in the cheek and cookies for the road and sometimes it hurts but it's so much better than he imagined.

[turtleblogatlast]

i see your post about leo being relieved that hes trans because he learned his stripes would go away and i raise you: leo, who spends his entire childhood in fear because donnie told him that he will lose his stripes when he is younger, only for them all to realize hes trans when they dont

Oh…Leo having so much value in his looks and especially his stripes because they’re what make him stand out the most, and in turn it helps solidify himself a role in the team as the “Face Man.” Sure, he absolutely thinks himself good looking with or without the stripes, but his stripes are striking and he knows it, and they mean more to him than just looks anyway. Knowing all this time that his stripes were going to fade and yet still taking on his title and still being as confident as he is - imagine he’d already come to the conclusion that his worth on the team, in his family, was always on a timer.

Then that timer goes away. And he’s left with relief and tells himself that hey, he’d have been just as cool looking without the stripes anyway! But…he’s glad to keep them. Even if his role isn’t quite just “Face Man” anymore, his stripes are a part of him.

And it’s been really scary to think that someday he’d look in the mirror and see a part of himself missing.

[whomeidontknowthem]

Eyes on me – an interactive whump story. Part 1.

Masterpost. Next part.

Content warning: slavery, imprisonment, dehumanizing language, implied future torture, characters express fantasy racism (slave owners are surprisingly not good people).

The slave auction was a grand building, standing tall and proud of its purpose and the wealth of those coming there. It was a place of privilege – on one side of the grand stage, at least. Or on one side of the iron bars, if you were afforded the honor of seeing the stock before the official bidding began – a rare, sparingly given to the most esteemed of patrons opportunity.

Lord Edarwis Teelo greatly enjoyed being one of them. He passed by the row of cells with the dignity that fit his status he had to fight to present – getting to choose before anyone else laid their hands on the collection was exciting. It'd taken many years of work and effort. He couldn't wait to have it all pay off.

Most were boring offerings. People from all over the kingdoms, a few criminals but mostly those sold to slavery to pay off debts. A servant went on about each of them before Lord Teelo threw him a quick glance. The boy was clever enough to close his mouth, letting the lord enjoy the walk in silence, rarely interrupted by any of the scared prisoners. They watched his every move, of course, at least most of them – eyes wide and scared or shut tight or cast away. All pretty faces (the auction only sold the best), skin ranging from deep browns of the Ashai coast to pale pinks from the northern border.

One of them caught the lord's eyes and he paused, studying the boy closer. Young, barely of age, either shaven cleanly or still unable to grow a beard, with such cute little curls on his head and wide hazel eyes. He was a candy for the eyes, shivering in the corner of the sell, twisting his naked body to preserve some sense of modesty.

"He's from Deruveer," the servant chimed in. "From the province. His family needed money after the draught and he was the youngest son. He's rather timid, a great choice if you want someone to do the chores and not bother you much."

Lord Teelo hummed. The boy was pretty, and convenience didn't always mean boredom. He decided to let him be for now, continuing on his way.

The next thing that got his attention was a dull distant clanging, like metal meeting stone with force. "What's that?" the lord wondered.

The servant answered readily, "Ah, it's from our special collection. They're not trained very well yet – you see, my lord, they are from the Northern Steppes."

"A barbarian?" Lord Teelo drawled out, impressed.

"Not just. They were a chieftain of some tribe there, – one of the bigger ones, I've been told. Our army hunted them for a while, until the chief decided to finally surrender. I don't think they expected this kind of a future, though. They are rather unruly."

"Show me," the lord demanded.

It didn't take long for them to reach the special section, and the clanging became all the louder as they came closer. "They want attention," the servant explained with a vaguely apologetic tone. "Their rations have been cut since they bit the handler, and it hasn't improved their temper, yet. It will eventually though. They are sturdy, but nobody is unbreakable."

The lord hummed, turning the corner and finally being able to take in the person they'd been discussing. He expected – something impressive, matching the tales of unruly northern barbarians, dressed in furs and carrying strange weapons, their skin white as silk or even the snow they saw every year there and covered in nasty scars from constant skirmishes against each other. They were all tall as giants and muscular as lions, – all but the one Lord Teelo saw before him, it seemed.

The barbarian sat in the corner of their cell, naked as all slaves were, even though they didn't seem to even try covering anything. Their skin was pale but in a disappointedly human-like way, adorned with iron cuffs and chains going to the wall and a muzzle fitting tightly around their face and leaving only blue eyes and greasy hair out. They caught Lord Teelo's gaze with determination and moved their arm out as far as they could before jerking it back towards the wall. The chain clung against the stone.

"I expected them to be taller," Lord Teelo expressed their disappointment.

"Yes, yes, I also found their look underwhelming when I first saw them," the servant agreed quickly. "But even though they're rather skinny – they can put up quite a fight! If you decide to buy them, my lord, it is advised you keep them in chains and with guards by your side, at least at first. They're a piece of work for sure."

The lord hummed. "Who else do you keep in this special collection of yours."

"Ah! You're gonna like her," the servant brightened. "A real royalty in our modest house! Follow me, my lord."

The cell he led the lord to was bigger than the rest, and less bare. There was a table, a chair, an honest to gods rug, even, and a whole tea set a woman was enjoying in silence. She wasn't dressed as a queen, Lord Teelo noted, her clothes were rather revealing and obviously made to showcase her beauty more than cover her modesty. But she was dressed – more than most people here could say for themselves.

"Royalty?" Lord Teelo mused. The woman turned her head, deeming him worthy of a long look – and it did feel like she was obliging him. The lord gave his best unimpressed stare back.

"She's the princess of former Terzita."

"Ah. The Night of Storms?" the lord guessed as the princess looked away. He watched her, noting the faint bruises running over the tense shoulders.

"The poor thing watched half of her family murdered before her eyes," the servant agreed. "Such terrible fate. It doesn't make her for a more obedient slave, of course – she's still thinking she should be treated with special dignity. We humor her here – but you are not obliged to do the same, my lord."

He didn't, did he. It would be so fun to put her in her place. Oh, yes, he could enjoy a royal maid. And if she didn't feel like playing the role – he would enjoy teaching her what would come of disobedience.

"You have anything more impressive?" Lord Teelo wondered, not taking his eyes away from the woman.

The servant didn't think for long. "We do," he smiled brightly. "Very special. This might be the most special slave of them all, one you can only see once in a lifetime."

"Oh?"

"It's not a human," the servant declared proudly. Lord Teelo perked up with interest. "Nor is it from the archipelago."

"Ah," Lord Teelo responded and the boy smiled at him, seeing right to his excitement. He showed the way without needing to be prompted.

The thing – the creature, – was huddled in the corner, lying on the ground as the two men approached. Its ears – long, obviously inhuman – perked up at the footsteps, but it didn't move from its place. The lord studied its back, the weird patterns streaming down in swirls of color against the unnatural, obsidian black of its skin – furless, at least, and slightly more human in this. Its spine ended up a tail, curling by its legs. A tail!

"Hey!" the servant called out and rattled a key against the iron bars. The creature moved abruptly to face the sound. Lord Teelo was mesmerized by the yellow of its iris and the black of the rest of its eyes. The pupils retracted into slits when they caught the light.

"Is this a fey?" the lord let out a astounded gasp. Even bringing up the fairytales felt childish, but what else could it be?

"We don't know for sure," the servant replied in a whisper respectful of the marvelous situation. "It doesn't speak Tragesh – or any language, for this matter. It doesn't seem incapable of learning – oi! You, want some food?"

"'uud?" the creature mimicked, flashing fangs in its attempt. Its face made some movement Lord Teelo couldn't read. "Yuu hath no 'uud."

"Astounding," Lord Teelo shook his head. Even if he didn't end up owning the creature, just seeing it was a miracle! "Can it do magic?"

"We keep it in a Shiel's collar," the servant explained. "It hasn't shown any, but – we like to be cautious in this case. It is included with the purchase, of course."

"I see," Lord Teelo tore his gaze away with some difficulty. "Anything else?"

"I'm afraid not, my lord," the servant smiled apologetically. "Was something from our collection to your liking?"

Lord Teelo nodded and then thought about it. Money wasn't a problem, but he was only allowed to buy one slave before the auction – which one would it be?

Updates every 7-10 days (depending on how much time I have and how obvious the poll result is)

@isikedmyself878

Tell me to be tagged in new parts!

[houseswife]

House MD makes for a way more interesting Sherlock adaptation than any other because it truly explores the depths of the character’s potential as a rude, selfish sociopath by making him American

[jamiethebee]

Danny Fenton in Gotham is fun and all, but consider Penelope Spectra as Bruce Wayne's new therapist. She'd be thriving. Also consider that as Bruce gets worse, Batman gets more violent. Spectra puts 2 and 2 together (she already has experience with Fenton/Phantom) and gets a stronger hold on Bruce's misery as a result. Bruce's kids watch on helpless to do anything. Which leaves Alfred to step in and get some *interpersonal/hands on development with Bruce.

[bluebellowl]

17th century, Ottoman Empire, Constantinople

Artem Vasulyev flees his home after he’s been caught conducting unethical research.

A year later in the Kingdom of England a foreigner opened shop as a blacksmith in a major port city

His name?

Vincent Leventis

Run by Cosmo Sheldrake has made me think of how he’s be on the run every few decades, running from the law, from pitchforks and torches, from friends who have become enemies.

[shitv2daily]

minos visit… they hang out…….. maybe

Day 106

[gridtrees]

ok I love the idea of alan finding out about the grid at some point and just being like "what the fuck. what the fuuuuuuuuck."

[bookshelf-in-progress]

It turns out that I never research because it makes me think the details are the point instead of the story.

The story is the point! It doesn't matter if I don't have an entire world with all its history and cultural and political customs realistically fleshed out! Focus on the story and fill in the details later!