#OR ILL GO WOLF MODE

[unknownartperson]

ITS US

FOLLOW MY BELOVED BOYFRIEND OR ELSE 🤬🤬🤬🤬🐺🐺🐺

Brumsy

[lesbianambulon]

Crazy what ovulation does to a mf valveplug rant psych ward posting below.

I want tfp Megatron and Tfp Ultra Magnus to raw me at the same time, every day, every hour of the day. I don't care. They'd hate each other but they tweaking on that human pussy fr

I FUCKING MIGHT DIE. BUT I'M STRAIGHT BALLIN' ⛹️🏽‍♀️ IN THE POST OP UNIT OF THE 🏥 HOSPITAL 🏥 WITH MY FRACTURED PELVIS. KONKED OUT ON PROPOFOL AND KETAMINE. HOLDING HANDS WITH MY TWO (2) CYBERTRONIAN BOYFRIENDS. FUCKING ARREST ME OFFICER. I DARE YOU.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 9: Some Days He Feels Like Dying]

A/N: Below are your guesses...let's see how you did!!! 🥰😘

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Extraordinary Girl” by Green Day.

Word count: 8.3k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

Let’s go back to the beginning of the end of the world.

On the big-screen tv in the Liberty Center at Saratoga Springs, Wolf Blitzer is saying: “We are receiving confirmation of additional outbreaks of the so-called Florida Fever, the first cases of which here in the U.S. were reported in Miami a little over one week ago. Concern is now growing nationally, especially as the modes of transmission, symptoms, and treatment options remain unclear. Let’s go across the country to Natasha Chen for the latest information. Natasha?”

“Hi, Wolf. I’m here outside the UC San Diego Medical Center where early this morning, two individuals suspected to be suffering from the illness were admitted. I’ve been informed by hospital staff that both patients are currently in stable condition, but there is still so much confusion and conflicting information regarding this ‘Florida Fever,’ and of course that uncertainty is leading to fear, rumors, and honestly a bit of hysteria. Even how to refer to the sickness is controversial, with no official name having been decided upon by scientists. Cases in Australia are known as Ragepox, the U.K. has dubbed it the 21st Century Sweat after a mysterious disease from the 1500s, and Russia is calling it the Ukrainian Flu while Ukraine has opted for the Russian Red Rot, inspired by the skin lesions that some patients experience.”

“Can you tell us what we do know, Natasha? Are doctors classifying this illness as a virus, or as a bacterial infection more akin to tuberculosis or meningitis?”

“At this time, what I’m hearing is that doctors are fairly certain it’s a virus, as patients do not seem to respond to antibiotics when they’ve been explored as a potential treatment. But there’s truly very little information at this early stage, and I think we’re all being reminded of those first days of the Covid-19 pandemic, when no one really knew how to best to avoid contracting the virus or what the long-term effects would be both nationally and globally.”

“There are absolutely some similarities, Natasha, which I’m sure is contributing to the unease surrounding the situation. What precautions are doctors currently recommending?”

“Wolf, doctors are urging the public not to panic, and to exercise common sense measures like avoiding crowded spaces, sanitizing surfaces, and staying home if they’re feeling unwell. Suspected cases of the illness should be reported to primary physicians or local hospitals. Typical symptoms appear to include headaches, fever, gastrointestinal upset, skin discoloration and blistering, and unusual bleeding, as well as behavioral changes, particularly disorientation, aggression, and even violence in some patients…”

“That ain’t what it is,” Rio says. He jabs his index finger at the tv from where he sits on the couch beside you. “Snowflake wasn’t sick, he was dead. He was motherfucking dead, flatline, code blue, crossed the rainbow bridge, he was gone. He was dead and then he woke back up, and he wasn’t a person anymore. He was…something else.”

“Dumbass, people don’t come back from the dead,” Mike says from the ping pong table. People are milling around pretending to play pool, darts, chess, poker, Monopoly, Uno, Parcheesi, but really you’re all here for the same reason. You want to know what’s happening.

Rio turns to you. “Wasn’t Snowflake dead?”

“He definitely seemed dead,” you reply, knees tucked to your chest and still watching the tv. Wolf Blitzer’s voice is calm, but his pale blue eyes have a manic sort of light to them, too large and too rattled.

“Man, fuck Florida,” says Desmond, a utilitiesman born and raised Trenton, New Jersey. “Nothing but psychos and alligators. Saw them off of Georgia and just let them float away.”

“What was that?” Tyler replies combatively. He’s from a trailer park in Tallahassee.

“Ty, why do you care? You’d be fine. You’re already up here. You can stay.”

“They’re lying,” Rio mutters, meaning Wolf and Natasha on CNN. “When the corpsmen called the hospital, they said to be prepared to restrain Snowflake and that he might try to bite us. Why aren’t they warning people about that?!”

Kayleigh, a steelworker from Oklahoma City, looses a frenetic sort of laugh. “Because there’s no non-panic-inducing way to say: Hey, go buy some duct tape and bungee cords to tie up your loved ones, because they might try to fucking eat you.”

Rio doesn’t frown often, but he is now; he slips his phone out of the pocket of his camo pants and types out a WhatsApp message to Sophie. You only know her from photos and quick hellos via video chat, a sweet diminutive woman with white-blonde hair and blue eyes that seem to fill up half her face, as fragile as Rio is overwhelming. She likes baking and romance novels and elephants; whenever Rio finds elephant-themed souveners, he ships them home to Oregon for her, refrigerator magnets and wallets and scarves and snow globes. Sophie wears a lot of long flowing skirts and hand-knit sweaters, and offers strange suggestions when she and Rio discuss baby names: Sage, Fox, Laurel, Coral, Juniper, Karma, Rune, Otter. Otter?! Rio had exclaimed. Babe, if you name our kid Otter, even I’M gonna have to bully them.

“I’m telling Sophie to stay with my parents,” Rio says to you. “They’ve gotten super weird with all the off-the-grid stuff, but they have years’ worth of supplies and grow most of their own food now, and they’re thirty miles from the nearest town. And no one knows how to defend themselves like doomsday preppers.”

“Good idea,” you reply, watching the tv. Now Wolf Blitzer is talking about tornadoes in the Midwest, and you could almost believe the world is normal again.

A few days later all major social media platforms begin censoring content related to the so-called Florida Fever, and then the internet goes down completely, and then the power turns off and on and off again, and finally quits like a car driven to its last mile. The combat units are moved out of Saratoga Springs—never to be heard from again—and the construction projects paused indefinitely, and one of the master-at-arms that Rio is friends with (Rio has a lot of friends, surely you aren’t so remarkable) relays information that he shouldn’t: tales of planned missions, impossible plagues, overrun cities, innumerable deserters in every branch of the U.S. military.

“Hey,” Rio whispers, shaking you awake one night, moonlight streaming through the windows and the pops of distant gunfire you aren’t supposed to ask about. “If I leave, will you come with me?”

It’s a big commitment; it could be a lifetime. You fear he might just be trying not to hurt your feelings. “I don’t want to slow you down.”

“No, you don’t get it,” Rio says. “I’m not leaving without you. Are you going to Oregon by choice, or should I tie you up and throw you in the back of the Humvee?”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a young one, maybe a teenager, little buds for horns and only weighing a few hundred pounds. This is good; if it was any heavier, Cregan and Rio wouldn’t be able to drag it back to the ranch. You’re still in Red Desert, Wyoming, and the bison are grazing just off I-80, an asphalt artery that cuts through an endless steppe of sand-colored rocks and tall grass. They gaze lazily in your direction with bulbous dark eyes, perpetually chewing, not terribly intelligent. The Colt pistols of the men who found you at the RV had been loaded with 9mm bullets, the same caliber your Berettas take; there weren’t many, but enough to fill both of your clips, something that feels like winning the lottery. You are lying on the rocky, dusty soil and lining up the shot. If you miss, the herd will scatter, and you’ll watch dinner vanish beneath a blue sky—pale like Aemond’s eye, a weak shallow blue—and rough white scars of cirrostratus clouds.

“Feels kind of wrong to kill a baby,” you murmur. Daeron, Luke, Baela, Helaena, and Ice are back at the house. Aemond, Rio, Cregan, Rhaena, and Aegon are here on the ground with you; Aegon insisted upon being brought along, and Rio agreed to carry him. Aegon had never seen American bison outside of the Oregon Trail computer game, those pixelated brown blobs migrating across the screen no more material than unicorns or faeries or basilisks.

“If the baby didn’t want to get killed, it shouldn’t be made of steak,” Aegon points out. He’s on a lot of Vicodin, the only narcotic Aemond could find back in Ogallala, Nebraska.

“No pressure, Chips,” Rio says, chewing on a long blade of little bluestem grass. “If you miss we’re just going to have to eat each other like the Donner Party.”

Aegon wrinkles his nose in confusion. “The what?”

“She won’t miss,” Aemond says, and Rio snickers to himself and gives you a quick wink that no one else notices.

“I don’t think one 9mm bullet will do it,” Cregan mutters. “Cows got thick skulls, I figure bison are the same way. You’ll have to hit it a few times, and before it can take off and disappear on us.”

Aemond casts him a patronizing glance. “And you’ve killed a lot of cows?”

“Oh yeah. Worked in a slaughterhouse for a while before I got hired by the power company. Hated it, went home and could still smell the blood and brains on myself no matter how many times I showered. Couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

Aemond looks like he regrets asking. Rhaena frowns worriedly at the bison. “Will they charge if someone shoots at them?”

Cregan shrugs. “Probably not.”

“Probably?!”

You squeeze the trigger five times in quick succession, hit the calf thrice, tiny puffs of scarlet mist that spring from its woolly head. It flops over as the rest of the herd jolts into a gallop, kicking up dust and fleeing across the steppe.

“Yes!” Rio booms as everyone applauds. “We’re in business! We’re having ribeyes tonight! Cregan, my good sir, I take mine medium rare.”

“You’re getting well done,” Aemond tells him. “Everyone is. Just in case the bison has parasites.”

Rio groans. “You’re ruining my life, man.” Then he and Cregan trot over to grab the baby bison, each of them taking one of its back hooves.

“So,” Aegon says dreamily. “Now that Rio is preoccupied, who would like to assist me in returning my disgusting, debilitated body to the ranch? Anyone? Anyone?”

Rhaena turns to you. “When we have more bullets, could you give me shooting lessons?”

“Sure,” you reply, a bit startled. “Really? You’re interested?”

“Well…” Rhaena hesitates. “Baela’s always been the brave one. At home, at school, when we were shopping, even when restaurants would mess up my order, Baela would do the talking and make sure I was alright…and I would literally hide behind her waiting for her to solve all my problems. And now…with the baby, with Jace…it’s been really different being the one to help her for a change, and I don’t think I’m very good at it yet. But Baela deserves to have people to lean on, just like I’ve always had her. And…when I stabbed that guy in the RV…I kind of liked it.” She titters nervously when she sees the shock on your face. “No, not like that! Not the killing part, or the gushing blood, that was all super gross. But the fact that I helped protect Baela and Luke? The fact that I wasn’t useless in that situation? That was a good feeling. Baela is clever, and she’s courageous and caring and funny, and she’s always been better than me at everything, and I never minded because she…she was like my own personal superhero, you know? But now I feel like I need to start learning how to do things myself so I can help her. Even if Baela is still better at everything, and probably always will be.”

Aegon grins toothily and pushes his neon green plastic sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “I know how you feel. It’s pretty impossible to look heroic next to Aemond.”

“Stop,” Aemond says, but he’s smiling, and a bloom of bashful pink blood appears in his cheeks.

“You already took over the driving,” you tell Rhaena encouragingly. “That was a big help.”

“Yeah,” Rhaena replies, a bit pensive. “Let’s hope I can keep that going.” Between the gas Aemond found in Ogallala and what was siphoned from the would-be attackers’ GMC Yukon, you got enough fuel in the Tahoe to take it halfway across Wyoming; but now the gauge is not just at but venturing below the E, and it can’t have more than five or ten miles left. That might not even get you to the next ranch, let alone a proper town. You need a working vehicle. There are nearly a thousand miles between here and Odessa, Oregon.

Aegon is pawing at Aemond like a cat. “Come on, hero. Help me up.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“This is why we’re friends,” Rio tells you as he shovels forkfuls of bison steak into his mouth, juice dribbling down his chin. Cregan gutted the bison and butchered it, then you helped him cook the steaks—not very uniform in size and shape, yet no one is complaining—on a pan heated in the woodstove. You fed the fire with books you found in the house, mostly religious in nature. “You convince me not to commit suicide when we’re stranded on a transmission tower, you share your Cheddar Whales, you’re good at shooting things…”

“How did you two become friends?” Baela asks. You are all arranged around the dining room table; there are just enough chairs for everyone. Ice lies beneath it mauling on bison bones that Cregan set aside for her. The room is illuminated by flashlights. Baela looks great: in good spirits, glowing, alert, wearing a loose cotton dress that Helaena found in an upstairs closet for her. Baela napped most of the day, something she rarely allows herself to indulge in, and the benefits are evident.

Rio says nonchalantly: “I talked to everybody and she barely talked at all. So of course I had to investigate and figure out what that was about. Turns out she’s kind of cool. You know the Wheel of Fortune game at arcades where there’s like a hundred little lights in a circle you have to press the button when the one that says Spin Zone lights up? She’s a freak, she can hit it almost every time. Can’t sink a basketball or sing karaoke to save her life, but you know, we all have flaws.”

Aegon looks up from his map, which he is scrutinizing as he eats his bison steak. “Do you realize that if we could just stop at gas stations like back when everything was normal, we’d be in Odessa or the Bay Area in fifteen hours? Literally less than one day. Fucking unreal. And yet here we are trapped in yee-haw country, freaky giant animals, no civilization but Jesus billboards everywhere, hell on earth.” He holds up a palm. “No offense, Cregan. You’re okay.”

Cregan smiles mildly. “None taken, Fried Foot. You know you’re a little well done yourself these days.”

“That’s ableist,” Aegon replies.

“We’ll find gas tomorrow,” Aemond says. He sounds confident because he has to; he’s not allowed to panic, to give up. He’s seated at the head of the table like a patriarch. His steak is the smallest and the most ragged. He wouldn’t accept any of the others.

You ask Baela: “Have you decided what to name the baby?”

“Kind of.” She rests both hands on her belly, a globe like a full moon. Helaena glances over at Baela, frowning and preoccupied. “If it’s a boy, I’m going to name it after Jace. We had already picked out Theodore…and Teddy for short, isn’t that cute? But now…I’d want him to have that connection to his father. The baby won’t have any pictures of him, or videos, or memories, or papers he wrote in school, or ties or rings or cufflinks, or…anything. But he could have Jace’s name.”

The rest of you nod, eyes downcast and feeling terribly sorry for her. “I really like that idea,” Luke says quietly.

Now Baela is thinking, her gaze traveling around the room as she chews on a cube of streak. “I’m not sure what I’d call a girl. Maybe something naturey like Violet, Rosemary, Ivy, Indigo, Fern…”

“You should name it Otter,” you say, and you and Rio erupt into raucous laughter. Aemond smiles as he watches you.

Baela is grinning uncertainly, trying not to be insensitive. Perhaps people named their kids stuff like Otter where you came from. “Um, sorry, what?!”

“That was one of the baby names on Sophie’s list,” Rio clarifies. “I vetoed it. Or at least…I think she agreed to cross it off…? Oh my God, imagine I finally get to Odessa only to find out my firstborn child has been named Otter.”

“You’d have to turn right back around,” you say. “Total abandonment would be the only honorable choice. We’d have to start over someplace else. I’ve heard Texas is nice.”

Aegon snorts. “You can’t live in Texas. They don’t even have legal weed there.”

Rhaena squints at him. “I don’t really think that’s a concern anymore, Aegon.”

Aegon smacks his forehead theatrically. “Oh no, I forgot about the apocalypse again!”

“So Cregan,” Baela says. “You were planning to vote for Trump.”

Everyone at the table groans. “No politics,” Aemond says.

“They’re all dead now, so it doesn’t matter,” Rhaena adds. “Biden, Kamala, that insane Kennedy brain worm dude, Trump…”

Aegon says: “If I was a zombie, I wouldn’t eat Trump.”

“I just found that interesting,” Baela continues, looking at Cregan like she’s expecting him to explain himself. Rhaena and Luke exchange a nervous glance. Daeron reaches under the table to pet Ice; you can hear her tail thumping cheerfully against the hardwood floor.

“I was a Trump voter, yeah,” Cregan replies between bites of steak. Aemond is studying him uneasily, but Cregan’s baritone voice is calm. “That doesn’t mean I approved of a lot of the things he did and said. I’m not a monster, I don’t believe in mocking people or all that January 6th stuff. But he was good for the economy. Back when Trump was president, groceries were more affordable, and houses were cheaper, and more companies were hiring. If I had tried to move out of my parents’ place in 2023 instead of 2019, there’s no way I could have done it. And I really needed to get out of there. A lot of people feel that they don’t have the luxury of voting for the nicest candidate, or the candidate they agree with on social issues. Something abstract like climate change isn’t even on the radar. They have to vote for their basic necessities.”

You and Rio understand what he means, you’ve both met plenty of people with the same perspective; everybody else seems shellshocked.

“But I don’t want y’all to think that I’m…” Cregan looks around the table, his eyes catching—interestingly—on Helaena, who observes him with a fully present attentiveness that you’ve learned is rare for her. “You know, like a sexist or a racist or that I hate foreigners or anything. Because I’ve never felt that way, and now I’m very happy to have found you guys, and I respect the hell out of you. And I want to be allowed to stay.”

“You can stay, Cregan,” Helaena reassures him.

“Yeah,” Rio says. “Especially since we’d probably starve without you.”

Cregan beams, clearly grateful, and there are chuckles and the tension breaks; and Baela is placidly skating her palm over the arc of her belly, and now that you’ve eaten all you can, Rio is spearing the remaining chunks of your steak with his fork and gobbling them down. He doesn’t ask before he does this; he knows you don’t mind. You’ve never understood why he’s given you so much over the past nearly five years. You are eternally offering him atonement.

Suddenly, Baela asks you: “What would you name a baby girl?”

You have to think about this before you answer. “Well, if you’re looking for something related to plants…I had a friend when I was growing up named Briar, and I always thought that was pretty.”

“Briar,” Baela echoes, intrigued.

“It means bramble, like a thorny shrub where blackberries grow. I remember her telling me that her mama wanted it to be a reminder that people go through rough patches and that life gets hard sometimes, but you have to keep going, and eventually you’ll find your way out.”

“Briar,” Baela repeats. “Yeah, that’s kind of neat. I’ll add it to the list!”

“And you’d have the same first initial,” Rhaena says. “Baela and Briar. Isn’t that adorable?”

Baela smiles. “And a few Rs thrown in there too. For Rhaena.”

Rio turns to Aegon. “Hey Honey Bun, if you had to name your kid after a plant, what would you name it?”

Aegon says without hesitation: “Marijuana.”

Now it’s an hour later, and Aemond is examining Aegon’s burned leg on the living room floor, Helaena holding a flashlight and you and Rio standing by for moral support. Underneath the bandages is a wasteland of red, weeping flesh…and yet there are spots where the skin seems to be hardening into white islands of scar tissue. Rhaena and Luke are keeping watch by the windows, Baela is passed out in one of the bedrooms, Cregan is showing Daeron how to put his wavy blonde hair up in a man bun.

Aemond points to a blackish patch on the top of Aegon’s foot, only a few inches from his ankle. “I have to debride this part here,” he says like an apology.

Aegon is afraid to ask. “What does debride mean?”

“It means I have to cut it out.”

“Cut it?!”

“It’s getting infected. I have to remove it or it will spread to the rest of the foot and you could get sepsis. I might even have to amputate the whole leg.”

“Okay, cut the dead stuff off,” Aegon swiftly agrees.

Aemond doesn’t have any more injectable morphine. He gives Aegon as much Vicodin as he dares and then begins working, carving away layers of dark disease with his scalpel and scrubbing the area with disinfectant. Aegon clutches your hand, squeezing so hard it feels like your bones might crunch, shrapnel-like splinters of marrow-stained organic glass beneath your skin. Rio has Aegon’s pink Sony Walkman—once owned by Ava—and takes one earbud while giving Aegon the other. They sing along to Sean Paul songs together, laughing as tears stream down Aegon’s sunburned cheeks:

“Well, woman, the way the time cold, I wanna be keepin’ you warm

I got the right temperature fi shelter you from the storm

Oh Lord, gal, I got the right tactics to turn you on

And girl, I wanna be the papa, you can be the mom…”

Now you’re curled up in bed, your arms crossed over your belly as you struggle to fall asleep. Aemond comes to bed late now; each night he waits until Baela is sleeping and then teaches Rhaena about childbirth and recovery: what to expect, what could go wrong. She is a good student, borrowing Helaena’s spider notebook to take notes and asking detailed questions. She wants to know everything she can so she can help when Baela goes into labor.

At last, the bedroom door opens. Out in the living room you can hear Rio asking: “Do you have Wagon Wheel? I love that song.”

Aegon scoffs. “No, of course I don’t have Wagon Wheel. Shut up and listen to your Enrique Iglesias.”

“You are so racist, man…”

Aemond sees that you’re in agony, rummages around in his medical kit, and gives you an oval-shaped white pill to wash down with the can of orange Sunkist on the nightstand; Helaena found a case of it in the pantry. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

“I didn’t want to take any Vicodin from Aegon or Baela. They’ll need it more than me.”

“Your pain is as real as anyone else’s.” Aemond’s weight shifts the mattress as he crawls into bed beside you, his arm settling protectively around your waist, his hand covering yours where it rests on your lower belly. “If the Tahoe runs out of gas, will you be okay to walk tomorrow?”

“Don’t worry about me. I had three periods during basic training, I honestly thought I might die. After that I can power through just about anything.”

“I’ve noticed.” You feel the soft smile on Aemond’s lips as he kisses your temple. “Do you want quiet, or do you want to talk?”

“Talking would be a nice distraction.”

Aemond wastes no time. “Do you like kids?”

“Well, since birth control doesn’t exist anymore, I’d hope everybody does.”

Again, he is smiling; you can hear it in his voice. “Okay, but do you intend to have your own?”

“Yeah, I always envisioned myself having kids. I wanted a normal family and figured I’d have to make one myself, DIY it, you know? I don’t think the plan has changed. Gotta repopulate the earth somehow.”

“I wouldn’t try to sway your decision one way or the other. It’s a burden you should only have to endure if you actively choose it. But if you want to have children one day, I’d help you.”

You giggle in the dim orange glow of a single flashlight. “How self-sacrificial.”

“No,” Aemond says, laughing. “Not like, the making them. I mean, I’d help with that too, that aspect would be fun. But I was talking about the delivery, and recovery, and taking care of a newborn. I don’t know everything, but I know a lot. I could help you get through it. So that’s an option I want you to be aware of, if…you know.” Now he pauses. “If you trust me.”

“I trust you.”

“Sometimes I don’t know if you should,” Aemond murmurs; or at least that’s what you think he says as you lose consciousness, plummeting into sleep as if falling from a great height.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Tahoe runs out of gas just east of Tipton—not a city, not a town, just a collection of service roads linking sprawling ranches to I-80, the only continuous route across southern Wyoming—and Rhaena guides the SUV as it coasts to a halt on the shoulder of the highway. You hike about a mile to the nearest ranch house: Luke carrying the siphoning hose and empty gas can in case you can find fuel, Rio carrying Aegon on his back, Baela walking slowly and with great effort, Ice panting as she lopes across the dusty earth. You can’t spot any cattle or horses behind the endless strings of barbed wire fencing. Perhaps they are in a different pasture, or escaped or were stolen, or died of thirst without being tended to, or were consumed by a wandering hoard of zombies, never sleeping and always hungry. The house at the end of the dirt driveway is modest, old, and painted white. The front door is open; the screen door bangs in the wind.

“Rock Springs is the next real town,” Aegon says when Rio drops him to the ground, reading his map.

“And how far is that?” Rio asks.

Aegon deflates. “About fifty miles.”

“Great,” Rhaena says. “What’s the plan, to fly there?”

“Yeah, start flapping your wings, little bird. You’re light enough, you can make it.”

“No car in the driveway,” you tell Aemond. “Nobody home, maybe?”

He’s scrutinizing the house, his blue eye narrow. “Maybe.”

A thought occurs to Aegon. “Do you think ranchers have golf clubs?” he asks hopefully.

“No,” Aemond snaps. Rio is now on the front porch and pounding the butt of his unloaded Remington shotgun against the doorframe to see if anyone appears. Daeron is nocking one of his makeshift arrows as he trots around the perimeter with his compound bow.

Luke, peering through his binoculars, points to a large cylindrical aluminum structure about a hundred yards from the house, by a small red barn. “What’s that thing?”

“It’s a grain bin,” Cregan says. “Full of feed for cattle.” Ice whimpers at his feet, and he twirls his axe in his large, calloused hands. “Are we clearing the house or not? Something’s in there.”

“We are,” Aemond answers tonelessly. “Luke, Rhaena, stay out here with Aegon and watch for trouble. Daeron, you too.”

“Got it.”

“Baela—”

“Can I go inside?” she asks. “Please, Aemond. I’m so sick of sitting around feeling useless and exhausted. I want to help. I want to do something, I’m going insane.”

“Fine,” Aemond agrees. “It should be an easy one.”

It is easy, but it’s not pleasant. The house smells like dark, sickening decay. In the living room are the skeletal remains of two bodies, both children judging by the size; the maroon-stained bones are notched with indents from gnashing teeth. Cregan shadows Helaena as she searches through closets and drawers. She takes no clothing—it would have absorbed the stench of death—but fills her burlap messenger bag with matches, lighters, batteries, pills. She gives you a bottle of Advil before you can ask her for it.

“Thanks,” you say, a bit startled, as you tuck it away in your backpack.

It is not until Ice leads you to the final room, the bedroom at the rear of the house, that you hear the familiar, blood-chilling hissing and moaning of a zombie. It is in the closet, and emerges one limb at a time: one arm and then another, one leg long like a spider’s, streaked with a thick soup of rotting organs that spills from a gaping hole in her belly like the mouth of a mineshaft. Something has happened to its other leg; it is missing, and the corpse that was once a thirties-something woman—a soccer mom, perhaps, with a minivan and propensity to make meatloaf and fish sticks—drags itself across the fawn-colored carpet towards you, slow and pathetic. Ice growls and barks. Rio raises his Remington.

“Wait,” Baela says. Her hammer is in her right hand. “Can I do it?”

“Of course, be my guest,” Rio says; though you can tell he’s slightly disappointed. He loves clubbing things.

Baela approaches the yowling zombie—jaws snapping, claws swiping—and grimaces down at it, this one of millions of monsters that ended the world, that killed Jace and stole all the rest of her life from her too, all those normal things she was supposed to have, all those strings of fate that the plague cut through like a razor and sent floating aimlessly out into the void of the universe. Then with a scream, Baela swings her hammer and a catastrophic impact crater appears in the side of the zombie’s skull, and it crumples to the floor, its mindless brains spilling out onto the carpet.

“Nothing good?” Aegon asks when you reappear in the driveway, popping a Vicodin into his mouth.

“No,” Aemond replies grimly. “No gas, no bullets, no food, nothing to drink.”

“I knew it would be lean pickings once we got out here,” Cregan says, and Aemond looks like he could kill him.

“Well, fortunately, Luke might have some good news for us,” Aegon says with a grin.

Aemond perks up. “Really? What?”

“I saw a truck out there,” Luke says, using his binoculars to gesture to the grain bin. “It’s parked between the barn and the grain thing, I can just see the very front of it sticking out. And if there’s a truck, there might be gas.”

Aemond ruffles Luke’s fluffy dark hair. “Good job, kid.” And Luke lights up like how cities used to look at night, back when the power was on: Washington D.C., Key West, Corpus Christi, Chinhae. Rio stoops down so Aegon can hop on his back, and all of you trek together across the field.

“Nothing,” Cregan announces as he squeezes the little pump on the siphoning hose after opening the gas cap of the ancient Chevy Silverado and threading the hose inside. “Not a drop.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Aegon sighs from where he’s slumped on the ground. His eyes are glazed; he’s pretty stoned. He gazes pitifully up at you; you pat his shoulder sympathetically. You and Rio have already checked the barn, dilapidated but perfectly devoid of zombies. The roof has caved in; one of the two front doors are missing. “What now?!”

“We can go back to the interstate and walk until we find the next ranch,” you say, looking absentmindedly at the grain bin. It’s much larger up close, and rusty in spots. A ladder runs up one side to allow access to the roof. Ice isn’t whining or nudging anyone’s hands, but she’s sniffing the air as if she’s detected something interesting, unfamiliar.

“Yeah,” Luke replies miserably. “We can walk another five or ten miles and then maybe find a safe place to spend the night.”

Rhaena shades her eyes as she peers up at the sky. “It’s past noon already. Maybe we should just stay here.”

Rio barks out a sardonic laugh. “In a house with no supplies and that reeks of dead people?”

“Cregan, go kill us something to eat,” Aegon commands.

He chuckles in his deep, gruff voice. “It’s Miss Chips who is good at the killing, I’m just the authority on butchering at the moment.”

Aemond is watching Ice, his forehead furrowed. “What’s she doing?”

Cregan whistles. “Hey, princess, you okay?” Ice ignores him, still sniffing, her grey ears straight up in the air. Then it appears from behind the barn: a tiny brown creature, a baby bear.

“Aww, it’s so fuzzy!” Aegon squeals, stretching his arm out to pet it. Rio yanks him away; everyone else is backing up towards the grain bin. A second bear cub has now arrived, padding clumsily along, large cartoonish eyes and a little pink tongue poking out from its muzzle.

“Don’t touch them!” Aemond shouts to everyone. “Get away from them! If there are cubs, there’s probably—”

And around the barn comes the mother, a grizzly bear of 400 pounds. She bares her teeth and snarls, saliva dripping in long gluey strings. Ice is barking viciously; Aegon is shrieking and scrambling onto Rio’s back.

“Baela!” Aemond says because she’s closest to him, urging her towards the ladder of the grain bin. She gets the idea and begins climbing. Then Aemond reaches for you. “Come on, you next!”

“Rhaena, go,” you say instead, and she clambers up the ladder after Baela. Cregan is brandishing his axe; Rio has his Remington in his hands, Aegon still clinging to his back like a baby opossum to its mother. Now Helaena is climbing up the ladder, and Daeron nocks an arrow. You whip one of your M9s out of its holster, aim for the bear’s head, and pull the trigger.

Your bullet hits its skull, Daeron’s arrow pierces its chest; and the mother bear does not die but roars and rises up onto her back feet—taller than Rio, taller than Cregan—and then drops back down and charges towards you and the grain bin. Cregan blocks the way, swinging his axe. The bear reluctantly pauses, testing him with swipes of her claws that he evades. Rio is just a few steps behind Cregan, waving his Remington around hostilely. Aegon is screaming and holding on for dear life.

“Don’t shoot!” Cregan yells. “9mm isn’t big enough, you’ll just make her more angry!”

Aemond finally gets a grip on your wrist and drags you to the ladder. You obey and climb until your feet are several rungs off the ground, then you turn to see what’s going on below. Aemond, Luke, and Daeron are at the bottom of the ladder, their backs to you. Cregan is still wielding his axe.

“Fuck off, Mama Bear!” he bellows, standing as tall as possible and swinging his axe above his head. Rio follows Cregan’s lead and holds his Remington aloft. Ice is barking; the baby bears are fleeing in terror. Aegon is sobbing hysterically and saying he’s going to die. “You don’t want us and we don’t want you! Go on! Go get your babies! I’ll put this blade right between your eyes if you don’t change your stupid mind right quick!”

The bear pounds the earth with her front feet and growls, a beastly subterranean rumble, but she seems to be losing her nerve. The rungs of the ladder creak and groan; you see rust like blood-hued moss around the bolts.

“Get out of here!” Cregan shouts. “Go, you hairy old bitch! Go back to your babies!”

The bear glances back to see her cubs vanish behind the barn. Her mouth is open and panting, spittle gleaming on her pointed teeth; her black eyes are uncertain. As you hold onto the ladder with one hand, you have your M9 aimed at the bear’s left eye, just in case. Aemond is watching Cregan; on his scarred face a sharp severity, fascination and resentment and fear.

“Go on,” Cregan says firmly. “Leave us alone. You belong in the mountains, not down here. Go eat something that’s already dead, a nice easy dinner. You don’t want us. We’ll fight you.”

The grizzly bear shakes her head—flopping ears, shaggy fur filthy with dust and pieces of grass—and whirls, lumbering off to find her cubs. When she rounds the barn, Cregan waits a few long, tense, silent minutes and then turns to the grain bin.

“Alright y’all, we oughta hurry up and leave. I don’t think she’ll come back, but she might.”

From the top of the ladder, approximately forty feet off the ground, Baela begins to laugh. “Did that really just happen?! That was insane! Cregan, buddy, you can vote for whoever you want to. You and I are cool forever.”

He smiles up at her, wincing in the bright afternoon light. “I’m very glad to hear it, ma’am.”

Rio sets Aegon down on the ground and stretches his back; it must be hurting him. Aemond is taking your hand and helping you off the ladder, and you are reminded of the transmission tower where he found you in Catawissa, Pennsylvania, one of those middle-of-nowhere places like Tipton, Wyoming. As Helaena climbs down, you go to Rio and—with as much force as you can manage—knead the small of his back with the heel of your hand like you know helps him.

“You okay?”

He sighs loudly, relieved. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Oh, wow, that’s good. Harder…oh yeah…”

There is a snapping sound, metal squealing as it breaks, and by the time you turn to look she’s already falling: her cotton dress billowing around her, her arms wheeling helplessly. It happens too quickly for her to scream—for her to understand what is going on and what it means—but there is a stunned gasp and then she hits the ground, and you hear a muffled crunch of bone—skull?? spine??—and she is completely, unnaturally still as she lies on her back, no pain, no words, nothing.

“Baela!” Rhaena shrieks, and she rushes down the ladder and runs to her sister. You are all gathering around Baela, petrified to move her—to make it worse—but pleading for her to wake up, examining her with terrified eyes. Baela’s own eyes, dark and glassy and serene, are open only a sliver like obsidian crescent moons. Aemond is asking Helaena for a flashlight and then prying them wide, checking Baela’s pupils.

“There’s no reflex,” he says numbly.

“What does that mean?!” Rhaena cries. “Aemond? Aemond?!”

“She’s…she’s…” He’s in denial; he’s in shock. He’s feeling for a pulse on her carotid, he’s digging his fingernails into her forearm to try to get her to respond to pain.

“Aemond?” you say softly.

“She’s gone,” he tells you, like he doesn’t believe it, like he’s waiting to wake up.

“The baby,” Rhaena says. “Try to save the baby.” And then, when Aemond doesn’t immediately understand, she grabs his backpack and begins ripping it off so he can get the medical kit inside. “The baby, Aemond!”

Now he knows what he has to do. He pulls the scalpel out of his kit as Rhaena moves Baela’s sundress to expose her belly. She was wearing biker shorts beneath, lavender, cute, something you might have picked out in a store. In less than a minute they will be soaked with blood. Cregan leads Daeron away, and he’s telling him that they need to keep watch in case the grizzly bear returns, but you think it is an act of mercy more than anything else. Ice goes with them. Helaena, her face pale and grave, is shining the flashlight on Baela’s belly, just beneath her navel.

“Aegon?” Aemond says.

“What? What do you need?”

“I need people to help hold open the incision once I make it. I have to be able to see the amniotic sac so I can cut the membrane without harming the baby.”

“I get it, I’m here, I’ll help.”

Aemond presses the blade of the scalpel to Baela’s skin and draws a semicircle from the top of one hip to the other. There is blood, but it is slow-moving and thick and dark; it is the blood of a dead woman, not a living one. Immediately, Aegon hooks his fingers under layers of fat, skin, and muscle, and opens the wound as much as he can. You and Rio reach in too, and you do this without thinking, without allowing yourself to feel the horror of it until the work is done.

“I can’t see,” Aemond is murmuring. Rhaena gets another flashlight and helps Helaena illuminate the area. Luke is on his knees with both hands clamped over his mouth, his eyes glistening with dread and disbelief. Aemond is slicing, pausing to probe around with his fingers, cutting again. Then his arm plunges into Baela’s abdomen up to his elbow and, with some difficulty, pulls out the gore-covered baby by its feet, a girl, large and limp and silent.

Rhaena sobs, equal parts grief and joy, a smile appearing on her face. “Is she okay? Aemond? Is she…why isn’t she crying? Aemond?!”

Rio yanks off his shirt and uses it to wipe blood and gelatinous clumps away from the baby’s eyes, mouth, and nostrils. Then Aemond takes the shirt and wraps the baby in it, warming her, rubbing her lifeless little limbs. When she does not stir, Aemond lays her on the earth and begins CPR: compressions with two fingers on her tiny heart, two breaths down the airway she’s never used. There are no sounds except his efforts. There is no crying when the baby wakes, because she never does.

Enough, you are thinking, as if from very far away: an island in the Indian Ocean, the Appalachian mountains in eastern Kentucky. Enough, enough, enough.

Aemond stops trying to revive the baby. He picks her up and holds her against him, and no one says anything. There is only the barrenness of the Wyoming steppe, an anemic blue sky, tall dry grass that bows in the breeze, black vultures that are landing atop the barn and the grain bin.

Aegon jolts out of his paralysis and reaches for his brother with bloodied hands. “Aemond, hey, Aemond, listen to me, it wasn’t your fault. Okay? Are you listening? Aemond, man, you did everything you could. You gave them a chance. You didn’t give up.”

But Aemond doesn’t respond; he only kneels there beside Baela’s butchered body, her dead baby girl in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Alys?” he calls, seeing that she never came back to bed. He is lying on his stomach, tangled in red sheets damp with sweat. It’s hot, too hot, and there is no humming of the air conditioning. When Aemond picks up his iPhone from the nightstand, it’s still plugged in but only at 87% battery. The power must have gone out.

He gets up, rubs the damp skin by his temple—headache, dehydration—and lifts open the nearest window. It’s odd: there is shouting, distant and indistinct, like the sound of a carnival or a concert. There are car alarms too, and sirens, and horns blaring, all too far away for him to see. It must be because of the power outage, traffic signals thrown into chaos, neighbors relaying the latest information back and forth. That’s the only logical explanation.

“Alys?” Aemond says again, groggy but with increasing curiosity, concern, guilt.

She started to feel sick last night, a pulsing in her skull and chills and powerful nausea. The possibility of it being the so-called Florida Fever barely registered in his mind. Alys gets migraines, and tofu is a migraine trigger, and he took her to a Thai restaurant (maybe he should have known better) and the curry Alys ordered ended up having tofu in it, and by the time she paid the check (as Alys always did) she was swallowing an Imitrex from the box in her snakeskin purse. She said she was going to lie down in the guest bedroom for a while so she wouldn’t wake him if she spent the next few hours dashing to and from the bathroom, a likely outcome, and if he was honest with himself about it, Aemond would admit he was relieved.

He shuffles to the bedroom door—black boxers, bare feet, century-old hardwood floors—and opens it. Now he can hear thudding, like someone tenderizing meat with a mallet. “Alys? Baby, you feeling okay?” There is no answer, only that rhythmic hammering. He realizes that it is coming from the guest bedroom, a door at the end of a long hallway still fuzzy through his half-awake eyes.

It had never felt right, but it had felt good: good in the body when she touched him, good in the soul when she told him he did something right. But lately—especially here, in the vast creaking historic house she shares with her husband and her children, who are presently sailing in Cape Cod—Aemond cannot shake the feeling that this entanglement is a surrender rather than an aspiration, something he fell into and now rests at the bottom of like a swimming pool or the sea, the cold weight of it threatening to pour into his lungs and drown him.

“Alys?” Aemond says, now with profound and inexplicable dread. Outside an ambulance or police car zooms by, sirens blaring. The pounding on the door of the guest bedroom grows faster.

I want to go home, Aemond thinks suddenly. At home, in the Federal-style townhouse his parents rented for him (Criston picked it out, a safe and quiet neighborhood in Beacon Hill, and Viserys paid), Daeron is visiting from California and watching golf tournaments with Aegon on the living room couch, pretending to be interested when Aegon describes the different types of clubs. Helaena, pursuing an Entomology PhD, is researching the Mediterranean mantis, clicking around on her MacBook Pro from the garden in the backyard. Jace and Luke live there too, and so Baela and Rhaena have all but officially moved in, keeping their apartment in Seaport only to have somewhere to retreat to when the Targaryen chaos becomes too much…and so the baby can have its own room. Baela bought a crib, a changing table, a rocking chair, a dresser, and about a million unisex onesies, mostly space-themed. Baela is studying Aeronautics and Astronautics, after all. Maybe one day she’ll work for NASA and fly rockets to the moon.

The door is rattling on its hinges. Aemond’s hand closes around the knob. On the other side is something terrible, and he knows this. But he cannot just leave her. Aemond is not someone who abandons people; he is not someone who turns away from responsibilities.

He opens the door of the guest bedroom, and immediately she is staggering towards him, limp dripping hair and naked like she was interrupted mid-shower: blood bubbling from her gaping mouth and the whites of teeth peeking through the crimson, necrotic skin hanging in strips from her fingers, eyes misty like steam on a mirror.

“Alys, stop! Alys! What’s wrong with you?!”

She’s alive but she’s dead. She’s yowling and clawing at him, but her flesh is the rotting swampland of a corpse. He’s pushing her away; his palms sink into her, places he once noticed and then fantasized about and then at last—euphorically, ashamedly—touched, held, borrowed but never kept. She’s trying to bite him. She’s trying to kill him. None of this is possible, and yet it’s true.

Aemond flings her away, and the woman who was once Alys stumbles backwards and down the staircase, sick wet thumps all the way to the ground floor, bones splitting through dissolving grey skin, organs sloshing around until they spill out. He can hear her still hissing, flailing, trying to get up again.

Without thinking—slipping seamlessly into what he learned during his psych rotation is called automatic action—Aemond races down the steps and grabs her by the skull, cracks it against the antique hardwood floor she once extoled the value of as he fucked her on it: shipped east from Oregon and laid in 1912, the year the Titanic sank. When she lurches up to try to bite him, he slams her head against the floor again and again until she is still.

Then Aemond kneels there alone for a long time, sirens shrieking outside, far-off strangers screaming for help, putrid black blood clotting on his hands.

[voiceofthesilly]

Hi, uhm.

Your designs for the voices in STP are..

Genius.

The premise of their design are simple (birds(?) with animal skull heads(?)) yet it makes them so distinguishable!

Also your art is very yummy- It's beautiful.

Ajsjadhdja thanku!! this means a lot, espeically since i love your designs for them a LOT Gonna take that as an opportunity to explain them some bc i havent really done that so beware, long rant under the cut

The general idea was for them to have masks of various woodland creatures, as a general reference to the cabin being set in the woods and to add a bit of a fairytale twist, as often in fairytales guiding voices in form of animals appear But thinking about it skulls are such a sick idea and might use them for less cartoony iterations honestly

From left to right!

Cold was actually pretty hard to pick an animal for - @3zethe3zr has been immense help figuring those out with various voices and we went through options like wolves and bears before i settled on lynx (quick, efficient and solitary assassin). I wanted Cold to feel big and overpowering, blocking out everything else. In a way that silence is big, sorta. You might also notice that they're the only voice without markings - its partially because everything i could come up with felt too on the nose, and partially because well. what symbol better than vast emptiness. Largest voice! 8'2" tall

Paranoid is a mouse, i feel like the association here is pretty straightforward. Big wings to hide behind and bald patches from overpreening. Their pattern is the eyes, they can't seem to get rid of them. Some on the feathers, some straight on the skin.

Hunted gets a hare mask because i said so and hares have amazing prey eyes. It's rather large, but always crouched over and ready to bolt, making it much smaller than it could be - Hunted always says we're small, but there's a moment where Wild refutes that. Of course it's not in reference to physical size there, but I wanted to use that nonetheless. Target mark on their chest and mask. Eyes on the side of the head - not sure where i heard it first but it was sych a good take i had to do it

Hero !!! I struggled a lot with the animal for them, went through a bunch of deer, wolf, even bird at some point (birds were off limits). In the end went with 3zr's squirrel suggestion - a little kind voice sitting on your shoulder. Hero also gets a cape, as a treat. for being there always. And because they're a hero and im no edna mode. Markings are the slits in a knight helmet!

Stubborn was im pretty sure the first one who got designed at all, due to intense stubborn brainrot. Animal is a boar, due to the mfs being extremely hard to kill, though i did want to go with a wolverine for a while. His mask is moved aside, he's straighforward and has no need for hiding anythin. Masks off and knives out, am i right . He's the shortest voice in the lineup (whole 3'7"). this is because im not tall and i like him. I tried to strike a balance between squarish and triangle build. His wings are proudly on display, and so are his scars - a testiment to our resilience.

Opportunist! my littlest guy who missed being a weasel by like 3 milimeters and ended up fox. because of course he did. He's fucking tiny - i usually like making voices who dont consider us strong bigger than they think, but in this case it felt fitting to make it something he works with. The markings are pointed knives, pretty self-explanatory i feel. Usually partially hidden under the chest feathers. Also, his arms are hidden behind his back here but the palms are red - blood on him hands

Smitten is a deer! They always felt very noble to me, and, well, heart shape in the antlers! The mask is somewhat ill-fitting and she can't see well but that's alright, love is blind. The largest marking by far - he's not one to hide his nature, and his heart is as big as the markings would suggest. I wanted to give her this sorta chivalrous fairytale knight build. Wings folded into a wing shape!

Contrarian is another long boi, i felt it would work well for whatever silly limb contortions hed do. The animal is a natterer's bat specifically - again, 3zr's genious idea

Neck feathers meant to resemble a jester's collar. Funky patterns meant to be confusing and disorientin. In the lineup in particular i didn't do it, but the idea is that with the mask slightly more up and beak open it almost looks like he has three heads, paralleling Stranger

Skeptic i wanted to have a very solid build, so square he is. The markings are question marks - both on the mask and feathers. He's a little silly with his saying wink out loud, so he gets to have a question mark tie. Wings folded behind mimicking a trench coat. He deserves glasses

Broken is actually second longest! It doesn't matter though, does it. They can be as large as they want, doesn't change anything. Mask is a raccoon dog - felt fitting vibewise. Bald patches around neck, wrists and ankles, as if remnants of shackles locked around them. The markings are meant to mimick both cracks (in shape) and chains (in layout). Mask pulled up for them double sad eyes and because there isnt even a point in hiding

Last up, cheated! Hedgehog bastard. I guess kinda paralleling Razor in that regard? They're not particularly big and their feathers are ruffled. Uses wings for extra expression! Markings meant to both resemble scars and diamond suit

Also, earlier verisons!

[fratpackhasmeinachokehold]

ok I know this is very mentally ill of me but here me out: Fitz going into absolute berserker wolf mode and biting peoples fingers off and doing ANYTHING to win a fight will always be hot to me idc. Do I know that it’s weird, yes, do I care, no. It’s just something that I don’t read about in characters enough. I like seeing Fitz not give a fuck lolll

that’s my hot take for the night✌️

[sonicasura]

I always headcanoned that the bots could feel ghosts/spirits due to heavy energy left behind and whatnot. I'd imagine they'd fall ill or become unnerved if stepping into a place where something really bad happened, like mass death or something. Imagine them taking the kids to the pizza plex before it went to ruin, and constantly having this uncomfortable itch or something the entire time they're there. Also I want Glamrock Freddy to meet Optimus, they'd be great friends. Miko would most definitely love Monty, maybe Chica.

Weaker spirits or lightly haunted areas can easily be mistaken for the heebie jeebies. It's only the powerful and particularly malevolent ones that have a negative effect. This includes increased paranoia, nausea, aggression and even mood swings in the case of negative charge Remnant.

Security Breach: Swap Mode Transformers edition. Gregory still triggers Freddy's reset but he gets out while the Jasper Trio is trapped inside instead. Now the visit to the Pizzaplex was... impromptu to say the least.

The Groundbridge had been acting a bit off as it kept dropping the bots in the wrong place than the and planned coordinates. One thing went lead to another which leads to the kids helping with a calibration test. Thus it is how the kids end up in the Pizzaplex specifically Glamrock Freddy's room.

Unlike Gregory, the trio are more willing to help save the bear's friends than wreck them for parts. You can say Monty continues to keep his spot of 'Holy Scrap! Something is really wrong here.' Kinda can't forget Vanny prowling completely invisible to all the other animatronics.

It does require Raf to do some hacking alongside a little Faz Wrench theft so Ratchet can send over an antivirus but also upgrade the map. This is what the kids to go for the Princess Quest upon noticing similar code in the machine correlating with the Glitchtrap virus.

You can say the look on Fowler's face was priceless when he finds the bots hanging out with stolen animatronics alongside uncovering a massive buried cold case hidden by a lethal child entertainment company. Glamrock Freddy is the embodiment of Optimus' social awkwardness mixed alongside a sunny disposition. Miko practically clicks with all the Animatronics, even Roxy as she can see the very insecure side behind that vanity. (Roxanne Wolf is like if Knockout had Starscream's insecurity and craving for validation.)

More wholesome ending in my opinion.

[fanonical]

what does Laika look like? (or how would you picture someone drawing her in wolf form?)

great question! so far Laika’s physical body hasn’t really been described much (and when it is, it’s through implication rather than direct description) because i want to put an emphasis on how she avoids even thinking about her own body let alone visualising it or looking at it.

that being said, that doesn’t mean i can’t share some details with you outside of the fic here on tumblr. so here you go:

lycanthropy in Laika’s world varies from just a handful of doggy traits (like floppy ears, a tail, body hair that’s a bit thicker and grows back a bit faster) to complete wolf-monster transformation; your typical cartoon werewolf (except wearing clothes).

not only does lycanthropy effect everybody differently, it can also progress/ease up based on a multitude of factors — compare it to mental health problems, or chronic illness. in essence, this means that in some chapters Laika might be fully person mode, with no discernible doggy features, and in some others, she might have a tail, or sharp nails, or floppy ears etc (your typical doggirl kinda stuff). in some chapters she may even be fully wolf mode

beyond that, Laika has one ear that perks up properly, and the other half-flops like it doesn’t perk up the whole way; she has a light brown sorta chocolatey, auburnish fur (to match her hair when she’s human mode) and she dresses in a sort of futch transfem tomboyish aesthetic you can expect from like, a chubby gay internet poisoned trans girl.

again, i try and keep Laika’s descriptions pretty vague because i’m interested to see how people would draw her based on their own reading, but that’s how she is in my mind. i also have a tag on my personal blog for doggirl/werewolf stuff, and whilst not all of it fits Laika at least 90 to 95% does, so if you were looking to draw her, i’d start there.

great question!

[swampgh0stt]

here's the tag for my AU (x) art by @stardustrobin

Harry & Peter are married! Childhood friends that (much to Norman's excitement) got married young. They have a son together (Normie)

Harry is trans (FtM) & started transitioning after he had Normie. However, he socially transitioned when he was younger.

Together, they run the Emily-May foundation. Peter still manages to do Spider-Man work on the side, as Harry is well aware of his husbands "other job." This sometimes causes issues between them when Peter gets a little too involved in Spider-Man duties.

But that's okay, bc these two have a Third in their relationship: a now mostly reformed Quentin Beck. Harry likes to bring him into the "Spider-Man" arguments to help get Peter's shit together

Info dump below the cut for our AU

Harry Osborn:

standing at 5'10, black hair & lilac eyes (Norman also has lilac eyes. might be something to do with their illness? hmm... )

He has a pet wolf named Lyra, who he & Quentin stole from a local dog-fighting ring that Mysterio interrupted (thanks to Harry's begging). Harry is rarely ever seen without her

Harry & Norman both have a genetic, terminal illness they hide from the public.

Harry is biracial-- his mother originally from a Reservation in Montana. She is Lakota. However, she is no longer with Norman & no one knows why she left

Harry speaks Lakota fluently. He often talks shit with Quentin

Harry is the secret donor behind Quentin's Mysteriums that have been popping up around the city. He, Quentin, & Peter all frequent the locations for dates, which lead to these Mysteriums being a huge success

active on social media, with successful insta & tiktok pages. He also shares a Youtube page with Quetin, but Quentin usually runs it & comes up with projects for the page

Harry is an abuse survivor, but only Quentin & Peter are privy to the extent of what he's endured from Norman through his life. He has a strained relationship with Norman, but can't completely separate himself

Harry used to have a relationship with MJ, but it was short-lived. They're still very close. Normie loves his Auntie MJ too

despite Harry & Norman's condition -- Normie didn't seem to get the same illness. odd...

Harry has some goblin tech he worked on for himself. he calls his persona the Hobgoblin & will sometimes join Peter on patrols, but not often. This persona has also been seen with Mysterio, but never for any villainous activities

Peter Parker:

tall and lanky with some decent lean muscle; boy is topped off at around 6’3”

fluffy chocolate brown hair

dark hazel eyes; lots of nice deep greens mixed with some browns and ambers

freckles only on his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose; also has a few on his shoulders

aside from web-slinging his main modes of transportation are a skateboard, a bike, a scooter, and getting rides from Harry

his board, bike, and scooter are all second hand, he got the board from the pawnshop and the bike and the scooter from alleyway dumpsters

he’s fixed up the bike and scooter himself, the board was already in pretty good condition

Uncle Ben did teach him how to drive, but it's just easier and quicker for him to board where he needs to be

he and Aunt May did keep Ben’s old truck in case they need it to drive around town

100% Jewish

like in your face about it, he and Aunt May celebrate every holiday

used to go Synagogue all the time with Uncle Ben and Aunt May; now it more or less every so often when he has or can make the free time-- Aunt May goes to Synagogue often and catches Peter up on what he misses

he knows how to speak and write Hebrew; Uncle Ben was his primary teacher and then Aunt May helped out

doesn’t always stick 100% to Kosher-- oops don’t tell Aunt May

will absolutely throw in Yiddish into his speech-- Aunt May is 100% to blame

has only ever dated Harry Osborn and Gwen Stacy-- doesn’t date MJ in my books

however he does get a bit of a crush but quickly loses interest but they become really close friends

doesn’t like taking handouts, prefers to work and earn his own money/things

does get visibly uncomfortable when people offer/give him money and/or handouts

Harry Osborn was his first crush and first love

Gwen is also his first girlfriend

Peter is bi

he really loves taking pictures and he’s good at it, once he started working for the Daily Bugle he started to get more serious in his photography

pretty much all his photography gear is second hand, he does have a few new things that he’s saved up for and bought for himself

doesn’t leave his Aunt May, he makes sure to stay with her so he can help her out with what she needs

doesn’t really buy a lotta new stuff for himself, most of his things do come second hand

his gadgets are mainly made from scraps and spare parts he finds, but he does buy what he needs 

after the spider bite he doesn’t really need to wear his glasses anymore, but he does wear them/keep them on her person out of habit-- he’s changed the prescription glass to just regular plastics

May let Peter keep Ben’s wedding band, he keeps it on his Star of David necklace that he keeps tucked in his shirt for luck and inspiration

Aunt May totally knows that he’s Spider-Man, he just doesn’t know she knows

after becoming Spider-Man he started to teach himself how to fight better, some of his moves in the beginning of hero came from his spidey sense, instinct, and reflex-- he chose to hone those skills to become better and not get himself or others hurt

has a pet opossum named Gizmo that he rescued from a dumpster and he thought she was a cat

Lyra & Gizmo are very close, surprisingly. You can often find Gizmo hanging on to Lyra, traveling & sharing food together.

when Spider-Man & Hobgoblin go out, they call themselves the "Spider-Pals," which started as a joke but stuck

[ohwell-itsme-but-danganronpa]

me when people are hating on Ouma's actions in game like. I just support him, actually

Ves: REAL she looked good doing it

if it were me I would get more crazy for a lot more selfish reasons, and I would punch Kaito back sooner, good for him for keeping his eyes on the goal

fr fr, look at him in the closing argument, that's my babygirl

Ves: the closing argument artist thinks so too

he did not have to go that hard but HE DID IT FOR ALL OF US. A HERO

haters will act like he's irrational, but he stuck out so long with no support system since he couldn't trust anyone and managed to play things off even when he was finally starting to lose his shit in a situation when it was reasonable for him to feel like this (tbh even fans make him often crack way more easily to make shipping content, when he's so resilient and then on the other hand not really lone wolfing it either bc he cooperated as much as he could) his way of going about things was smart, there isn't much else he could do, Tsumugi was setting up others to distrust him as well

Ves: AAAAAAAAAAAUGH!!! he did he lasted so fucking long in the worst possible situation he tried so HARD to cooperate and it just. did not work. if i think abt how quickly his plans fell apart i will explode i'd b doing so much worse in his situation

sometimes it's just like, you're talking about paranoia? trust and attachment issues? untreated mental illness? I think we have to be introduced, there's so much I could show you. I am not saying he doesn't have anything of the sort, but there's a lot more of reasonable justified distrust there, and still, it could be so much worse, trapping the next person who thoughtlessly assigns him diagnosis in a demonizing way in a room with me and making them listen to me rant about my failed relationships history for educational purposes

they will learn about all kinds of issues

Ves: it's trueee people act like he's so strange for breaking down but LIKE??? HE'S PRETTY NORMAL FOR THAT ACTUALLY???? he clearly already had Issues but the killing game was perfectly packaged to dig into those this is why DRS and UTDP mostly suck at characterizing him they're still stuck in the idea of him at his absolute worst he was nicer even in ch1 than he is in some of those events

[and then my amazing wife dropped this bomb, and she says I'm the smart one smh] Sini: The thing is, there’s him being shitty on purpose and him pretending to be the mastermind/making himself appear suspicious. There is a clear difference in how he acts. In DRS and UTDP he usually just comes across as playful. Yeah he’s a jackass, but I think his whole “bad guy” persona (the one we see in the beginning of the game) goes beyond the killing game. I see it as a way for him to protect himself, to push people away and not appear as vulnerable. As he’s said before, everyone always sees him as a villain so it’s the perfect role for him. I think that reasoning goes beyond what was happening to him in canon. I do agree his characterization could’ve used a bit more reworking, but I think for the most part they did a good job in showing how differently he acts in a peaceful setting in small ways. The fact that he never uses his scary sprites once or is seen to be more nice with characters like Mikan and Gonta. Especially with Gonta, where he seems to be more vulnerable around. And while this was probably just a mistake, I like to think him being shown as not as pale in DRS as a sign of him getting better. In a non killing game environment he seems to be doing pretty well for himself. But that’s what I believe, anyway

Ves: h that's really sweet actually,,,i may have been a LITTLE hard on the side modes. it's mostly the way he treats kiibo that drives me INSANE, the mikan n gonta stuff is [ok hand emoji].

Sini: Yeah, I agree. I can understand the Kiibo hate, but he doesn’t have to go as hard as he did in game. It’s not like there is a reason to suspect him. The only thing that could maybe explain it is maybe he suspects he could be tied to Monokuma? Since he, the Monokubz, and Monomi do exist here. He was rude to Monomi and seems to suspect her of being not what she seems ALSO, he’s always gonna be a little shit cause he’s a greedy whore. He wants attention and entertainment so badly.

Ves: THISSSSS it's so important i have seen so many people question why he does things where the answer is literally just that he wants attention like there is not always a plot sometimes he just wants shuuichi to chase him

Sini: That’s all there is to it He wants his crush to chase him like in his favourite novels Live the fantasy

Ves: it's part of why they're so good together!! shuuichi as a detective is v used to obsessing over details and giving his whole attention to something in the way kokichi wants HE'S A NERD THAT ALSO EXPLAINS MANY THINGS

Sini: They’re both nerds. Even more reason to why they are soulmates

Ves: kokichi receives the Detective Stare and goes TEEEEEHEE

Sini: IT’S HIS DREAM COME TRUE It’s just like anime! He’s living anime rn

Ves: i think his hair should curl up at the ends when he gets excited as a treat

Sini: To compliment Shuichi’s sentiment ahoge When he goes to his room after an exciting day with Shuichi, he flops on his bed, kicks his feet, and squeals into his pillow

I feel a little ashamed when reverse happens and I am posting something someone else started and I took over, but with this all I can say: follow @vespertin-y and leave nice comments for my wife so we can prove it to her that she is smart and her takes are divine.

[rpking99]

BOOM! Megazords!

So BIG NERD TALK time!

Been a while, huh guys?

Well with BOOM! Studios ending their Power Rangers comic book continuity with Darkest Hour later this month (and seriously, they have a LOT to fix into this story. Like the arc has been dragged out so long, but now there's an ending they've just slammed their foot on the accelerator and it feels like some things aren't even close to being talked about elf alone concluded) I just felt... Time to do another one of these

Now some of you may remember on my old blog, where I did three big nerd talk posts gushing about BOOM!'s original ranger designs, a post Ill definitely want to explore and expand (and make a singular post) once the series is done. But right now? ... Time to be negative

Because while BOOM! has been nailing it with their ranger designs.... Their original megazords have been crap.

And I am not talking about the amazingness of the Gravezord. Ranger Slayer's baby is amazing since it's a stand alone robot literally made our if destroyed parts, it's design works and makes sense in universe

It is a literal scrapyard fused together. The main body is the White Tiger Zord with the Yellow Griffon Thunder Zord's shell as a claw on the left arm, the Pink Firebird Thunder Zord's wings as wings, Tor the Shuttle Zord's head as a helmet and face, the Blue Unicorn Thunder Zord's front plate as a shoulder pad for the right shoulder, and the Red Dragon Thunder Zord having it's head and crotch plate turned into a buckler/sword combo on the right arm, and it's warrior mode shoulder as a shoulder pad on the left shoulder

It is literally spare parts showen together

No

What I'm talking about... Is their combinations.

Now I'm gonna do a quick aside to explain what's wrong with BOOM!'s design philosophy.

Transformers. Gundam. The Brave Franchise like GaoGaiGar. Heck, Power Rangers and Sentai on TV. Why do these shows have good looking combinations in them?

Why does, say, the original MMPR Dino Megazord/ZyuRanger's DaiZyuJin work as a design? Because it was thought of TO combine. As "this part folds in like this so that part can connect there, this part folds around this, hands flip out, click that into place" and so on. Yes, a lot of this is because "toys" but because they are designed to be real machines, real objects, with limited mass and placement... It works

Even "Cluster Fuck combinations" like Go-Ongers Engine-O G12 or Shinkenger SamuraiHa-Oh work because they have to work with the real pieces that actually exist.

But this is where we come to a problem

BOOM!

BOOM!'s megazords... They treat every zord like putty that just merge together like silly putty into the final combination

Example A is the MegaGraveZord, a fusion of the MMPR Megazord and the Gravezord.

I showed the Grave Zord earlier. Where did most of its body go? Where did so much RED come from?! Like... Those knee guards are the shoulder pads of the Red Dragon Thunder Zord's warrior mode! Which they only had one of in the Gravezord. But they've also shrunk! ... And the actual shoulder pad on the Gravezord was put on this combo!

Where did the Unicorn's shoulder pad go?!

How did the head change like that?!

But the biggest issue... Where did 99% of its mass go?! It's got the tiger head and the upper arms, but the rest of the ACTUAL body has just... Vanished!

And this wasn't exchanging parts by the way, it was a full fusion

But you know what. At least this looked cool.

Next week have the.... I think they called it the MegaMegazord?

It is comprised of the Hyper Force Megazord. But also the Dolphin, Lion and Hawk Ninja Storm Zord's (yes, the full Wind Megazord is in there), the Purple Wolf Jungle Fury Zord (that's normally used as a leg), the Yellow Garuda Mystic Force zord (normally a backpack and wings), the green Minotaur Mystic Force Zord (which is most of its megazords body... That's in there to), the Violet DinoCharge Plesio Charge Megazord (Plesu-Oh for Kyoryuger fans) (yes that's ANOTHER full Megazord in this as well) and finally the Super Zeo Zord I Pink (which becomes a pair of feet)

Like... This is a cool ass design

But... Combining? No, not like this

Not at all

It's just a generic design robot design with random design details that imply the design but that's it.

And.. yeah. A lot of these don't work because they weren't supposed to. But that's where you could be clever. Look what what breaks into what pieces and how they could theoretically be used... Also using ones that COULD work together

And then there's.... This

We have all thought of this. The awesomeness of the Dragonzord fusing with the White Tiger zord. But....

No

Why is the crotch piece from the dragon zord (which is part of the chest plate) there? Why are the symbols from the Dragon Zord's KNEES and THIGHS taken OUT of its body and placed THERE?!

Why is the golden chest plate attached to the FRONT of the shoulders like that?! Especially when the MISISLE FINGERS of the dragon zord fold in there so they COULD have been used as shoulder canons!

Also why is the CIRCLE from the middle part of the chest piece removed to be a shield?! Can't get just use the whole chest piece?!

And how is the drill attached to the arm like that?!

Like... This fusion is super obvious! Drape the Dragon Zord over the shoulders like you do with the classic Megazord! Maybe have the hips detach and attach to the Tiger Zord's waist and thighs to bulk that up. Then combine the chest plate and drill tail and connect that to the arm, or use it as a hand held weapon!

But finally we get to THIS monstrosity

This is four of the MMPR Thunder Zord's combining together with the Blue Omega Zord and

....

Do....

Do I have to say anything?

The Red Dragon Zord has complelty changed texture! Where is the Thunder Bird?! This is basically the Thunder Megazord combination, so surely the Omega Blue Zord should just be replacing that! WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE LION?!

The only part of this combination that looks right is the left leg. Because the Griffon is the only one being used right. Which, ironically, makes it look out of place

Like... The lion is the big one. Because... You can see it in the picture. They've literally stretched and squished it like taffy. They basically painted small details of it only a leg hit

If you don't know how this combination works... The Lion becomes chest armour for the Thunder Megazord. The lions head hanging at the crotch with it's beard flowing down as a waist skirt. And it's two large paws unfold and become arm armour for the combination

But in this "Omega Blue Thunder Omegazord Formation" (the names for these things suck, by the way) yoh can see... The lion face is a complelty different shape and cut off, the gem that would be in the middle of the chest and act as the rangers cockpit has been cut in half and is near the knee, the paws are missing, it's much lomger ans thinner than it should be.

The underlying issue with all of these combinations is simple. They are doing generic robot designs using the Zord's as a paint by numbers thing with barley any cohesive thought behind the designs beyond 'robot good'

And to be clear. This is me just explaining why I do not like these original designs and what about them I do not like. If you do like them, awesome. Am honestly happy for you.

[unassumingastartes]

Part 1 of Heresy Era Primarch fan casts.

I'm currently working on the remaining 15 of which I have 6 selected (3 more going up shortly). I just need to get the time to find fitting images for them all, and create the posts etc.

Part 2 is up!

[Also, please ignore any grammatical errors. I am very ill, and I'm doing this to cheer myself up]

I seem to take issue with most fancastings I come across of primarchs; in my mind must be played by someone that has that kind of special visual property to their appearance that's very eye catching but can't be placed. Primarchs have a super natural aura that makes people drawn to them but also very intimidated. So it's a very unique mix that one must have.

Here are a few I think fit the bill.

Jaghatai khan-

Baljinnyamyn Amarsaikhan.

Mongolian actors are very unrepresented in cinema, I believe that for a character completely inspired by mongol culture, casting anyone outside of that would be a shame. Just like the Khan, he has a strong, very intimidating aura but also has an equally strong charisma and powerful appearance that demands respect. His performance in Marco polo was great. The Khan is full of contradictions in his character he's jovial yet serious, he's just as quick to laughter as he is to rage, he doesn't take himself seriously but if you do something against him he'll never forget it, he's logical yet impulsive.

Leman Russ-

Travis Fimmel.

No fan of both Viking and Warhammer will be surprised by this casting. You'll know it doesn't even need an explanation as to why this role is perfect for Travis. Travis' performance as Ragnar in vikings was legendary. His feral but caring nature, like a wolf that wishes to be tamed but fights back when it happens. Just like Leman. A quick-witted, silly, carefree but battle crazed berserker. I talked about outstanding physical appearance being a must, and Travis' eyes are one of a kind. No description can do them justice.

Angron-

Manu Bennett.

Angron is a very misunderstood character in the fandom. He was forced to become a gladiator as a child, he never knew love, his aura was stolen from him due to the butchers nails, which drove him insane and made me bloodlusted craving violence just for a moments relief. He was denied an honourable death with his loved ones, then again, and is still forcibly kept alive as a Daemon. Even his own sons were terrified of him and hated him. Being around Angron was like being caged in with a starved and injured apex predator. Manu's experience with playing a gladiator previously is fitting along with his ability to tap into that hyper intimating mode, where even tho he is extremely handsome, it's not welcoming. It's the lure of the beauty in a tigers stripes where you want to admire, but you know you must run.

[highladyluck]

Season 2, Episode 5 Liveblog

“Finished pouting?” Never. Suroth has never finished pouting in her life

Egwene says “These colors don’t run!”

I’m sorry but I laughed at Lanfear’s outfit

Grolm time! I love the Seanchan theme it’s so creepy

We have handtalk!

Ahahahahahaha damn they are really going for the Whitecloak and Rand parallels (uniting everyone under our banner to fight the shadow)

Interesting scarification(?) on Turak’s bald head- are they coding him as imperial family? I forgot what his canonical relationship to the throne was

It's manicure time for Suroth's coke nails

Oh hai, it’s our buddy Fain

I forgot that Turak knew the box code (as did book!Lanfear) and that reports of him having the Horn would have gone back to Seanchan

True Power is very useful here

Oh my god you have horse girl Moiraine killing horses (like that’ll stop Lanfear)

I like how she vaporized his head

Omg I love Lanfear’s utter disdain

Perrin is very mad right now, love to see it

“You can’t run from what you are” but the boys are all sure as hell are going to try lmao

Moiraine like ‘it’s time for very bad news, are you keeping moving? good good’

‘If they’re all released we’re doomed’ (Look I’m gonna tell you a secret, they kinda suck, you guys will probably do ok)

Hopper is like ‘I’m on babysitting duty, I have no choice’

I hope we get Gaul but I will take… holy shit that is a smoking hot Aviendha

Omg omg is that Dain Bornhald? ill-met by moonlight

Perrin’s like ‘I do not understand and I am now officially in jailbreak mode, please leave any friendly warnings with my wolf’

It’s not a coincidence that there are Aiel and Seanchan, it’s the plot lmao (also the apocalypse)

I love Lanfear talking to herself so so much! Eat that scenery, Lanfear! Eat it for the woman and the man who no longer can eat things because you sewed their mouth shut and popped their head like a pimple, respectively

Browns Browns Browns

In the Ways again…

Liandrin, are you gonna try to recruit Nyneave? Let me rephrase that. Do you think you will SUCCEED in recruiting Nyneave?

Huh, tying the oaths to Artur Hawkwing, I kinda like that

Nihilism, baby!!! Oh I love Nyneave so much

Suroth is not having a good day

“Finished pouting?” Never. Suroth has never finished pouting in her life

“And plunge the Empire into civil war?” 👀👀👀 It’s fine they have spares

Lmao Suroth in a power struggle with Ishy is very fun

If you keep calling the last battle early, no one is going to believe you when it really is the last battle, Ishy

“People shouldn’t be in cages” that’s a book line!

She is so hot help

Ooooh I love the Aiel theme

The music this season is so good!!!

Dain with his big axe and Perrin with his hammer

The camera on the battle scenes is characteristic by now- feels very ‘in it’

Lanfear like ‘ah my Tel'Aran'Rhiod propaganda is working’

Congrats Moiraine now everyone in your family thinks Rand is your boytoy

Queen Galldrian and baby boy Barthanes!

Verin is like ‘oh hi! Did you know you have massive problems? :D’

It’s important to cross-check

Verin introducing Compulsion

Liandrin I think you don’t have a ton of leg to stand on criticizing the system when you’re about to feed these girls into it

Awww look she gave Nyneave a fighting chance

Egwene says “These colors don’t run!”

Avi like ‘wow you don’t even know what toh is, hoo boy’

I like their carpet mantles

Lmao Elayne’s priorities “They’re occupiers!” vs Nyneave “who cares, we need to get the fuck out of here” al’Meara

Verin is Columboing her way through the usual suspects

Omg Moiraine is actually being honest as well as truthful

And her sister is honest back

Rand needs protection! And he needs you because you’re his magic mom who gives him complexes

UM [this is Ishy cuddling up to Rand]

Subtlety thy name is not Lanfear

HUH (re Moiraine desperation)

Because you’re King Nihilist

MOGGY MENTION

TITS OUT FOR GRAENDAL

“The Boys” I disagree with Lanfear’s assessment of the girls (insane & vain/stupid) but she’s right about the boys, and it does set up the 'everyone in this office hates everyone else' vibes

See I told you, he’s King Nihilist

Booooooooooooo Mat’s not yours

Oh you have not seen anything yet re: breaking Rand

Oooooooooh Ishy prompted the omens for the Return?

Court of the Nine Moons mention! It's interesting having this be the first time we hear about it. Won't change things that much narratively unless certain other characters hear about it prior to the next season or so, though.

YES WE HAVE YELLOW AJAH I love it

Oh man this is going to hurt

Collars and leashes confirmed

Moiraine is correct that Lanfear probably won’t hurt him physically. However, she can absolutely hurt him emotionally so I don't think he's gonna be, uh, safe

Hmmmmm I don’t think I like the lack of mystery about why Lanfear turned, but otoh no living Aes Sedai is a reliable narrator about the Age of Legends, so I’m filing this under ‘reasonable but there might be a more interesting story later’

Staking Rand out like sexy sexy bait

Oooooh it’s symbolism time

I’m sorry but I laughed at Lanfear’s outfit

Oh episode 6 is going to be very hard to watch

[monards]

Evil mode activated 😈😈

Also since we really don't know how Albedo's changed over time... I like to think that he does age,,, just much slower... So eventually Rhine would have to watch her son grow older than her and then die:)

The mean wolf told me to give her abandonment issues and then take everyone away from her

AUGHHUHASUDHOOOOOOPOJAIPC JSPPPP III DONNTNTN KNOW HOW OT VOICE MY CRIES THOROUGH TEXT. BUT THEY ARE THERE. AUHGUOASUOOOOOOOOOOOO THHHE WORST PART ABOUT THIS IS THAT IT'S MORE OR LESS CANON. FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

OUhghhhh... I tthink it's always gonna be important to me how it's such an essential part in a lot of stories for character's to watch their parents grow up as they do... and them becoming 'stronger' then them,, (like being taller, keener, more mentally well-kept) but the idea of albedo getting that for such a small bit of time.. before eventually devolving again (as comes with age). Dear god.

Assuming Albedo's been gone for a decent margin of time, that'd mean he would've grown a decent amount... buuttt that'd also mean whenever he meets Rhine she's just gonna be. the same. it reminds me of how you never notice your parents age as you grow upp,, and it's sort of a major part of you to realize that they *have* changed, when you're older. but albedo will never get that moment. because rhine's always gonna be the sameee..... OUGH I will always be sick to the trope of children finally being taller than their parents if anybody can tell where that fixation came from ill give you a sticker annnd the worst part about this is that if albedo goes by basic aging conventions, he would technically be taller then her at some point, but then he'd start shrinking again. meaning one day he'd be shorter than her again . And oh my god would that be so fucked up.

i think one of the worst parts about this is the fact that Rhinedottir (if we're going by whatever hoyo's more likely to pull) would've been a young women during the cataclysm. Meaning she'd be a young women now. And Albedo's a youngman. Meaning Albedo would be (physically) more or less his mother's age. Ough hh ghp ijIAIGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I. I am starting to understand why Rhine coped shockingly well with all her sons dying by murder. I too would be incapacitated by grief if my son died by growing OLDER than me and dying naturally, then if it were for a reason largely out of my hands. oh my god.

anon. i hope you enjoy my tears.

[descole-dead]

HELLO IM “NETWORKING”” please read if you’re kind to ill people

please i need all the help i can get im so lonely if yoy like all of some of these things i post i can make your dreams come true.

music music is my favorite thing i dont know how to make it and im too shy to sing a song but i tell youwhat i listen to anything you ask but for all intensive networking purposes im going to list what im hyperfixated on ok …….

• 80’s/new wave

•90’s low-fi

• pop music (GENERAL!!!)

• jpop/kpop ill be honest MEN i mainly listen to kpop girl groups but my jpop taste is actually broader i cant explain it i think it’s just the kpop boy band scene im not not too interested in :(

artists i hyperfixate on the very most or in a content way tears for fears , depeche mode, perfume, lady gaga, loona, carly rae jepsen, marina, liz phair, chisato moritaka, jimin aoa, blackswan

other things i like or talk too much about: ELIJAH WOODIM SO SORRY IM AS A MUSIC PERSON I AM EMBARRASSED OF HOW MUCH I STAN ONE ACTOR BUT I CANTCONTROL MY SMALL HEART💔💔💔💔at least he is a dj and knows the apples in stereo on a personal level, lord of the rings (not Elijah wood related), yellowjackets (not Elijah wood related) cryptids, animals ESPECIALLY MY CATS AND BUGS, i don’t know maybe some video games like pokemon, animal crossing, mother and of course professor layton which!!!!i don’t hyperfixate on as much anymore these days so dont expect much of it despite my really cool canon url but it’s like too important to my tumblr history to neglect or not mention soery i think the wolf jean descole will always be a part of me and Sorry if you want this url ill never give it up it’s really funny to me (very excited for the new layton game tho💘💘)

‼️‼️‼️‼️i think one more thing to know about me isthis blog is like 13 years old and im an archivist so i generally dont like to delete my past i think it’s very fun and interesting toe look back on my old posts However tumblr doesn’t easily show dates on posts so you may be shown a 2010 yaoi or dated opinion from teenage me with no context and i apologize ahead of time for the teenager i was 🕊️🕊️

[soundwave-radioandbroadcast]

Welcome to the Blog and Tags

Hi, hi hello. Welcome to the blog!

On this sideblog, there is gonna lots of different things and because of that, I'm gonna properly tag stuff to the best of ability which means including proper tags for OCs and Aus I have made for transformers (with small description tied to them too so if people want to, they can block those tags and what not!). They will also be under the "continue reading thing" so people do not have to scroll pass a massive wall of text.

Besides that, welcome to the station! Enjoy your stay!

Tags (Will be updated as more is added)

OCs #Scylla A former human who lived in the quote on quote perfect family. When her family's neglect and expectations stressed her out to be point of illness and broke Scylla, she snapped at ran away. She meets Shockwave later in life, and by her request, becomes a techno organic. She has an endless hungry and craves the fresh sparks of her victims and fresh meat.

#Light-Seeker A former Decepticon spy and infiltrator who's alt mode is a stealth fighter jet. Light-Seeker harbors the dark secret of being an actual, fully forged Sparkeater made by the Allspark well itself. Despite being a former Decepticon, Light-Seeker is not fond of the cons he worked for, it is not rare for him to actually bad mouth his former co-workers, mainly Megatron and Starscream. #Patch An autobot minicon who's job is to act like a nurse/assistant to medical bots. Her alt mode, while rarely seen only hinted at with her weaon of choice is a Defibrillation! And despite being an autobot, they do not care for the earth nor the organics on it, actually having a distaste for them as she dubs them "Reckless", reminding them a lot of the hot shot racers back on Cybertron. Because of this, Patch speaks solely in cybertronian, making it hard to communicate with her in any organic languages.

#Seamstress or #Polylene A spider insecticons who is based on the Chilean Rose Tarantula. Seamstress is not a fighter, she is a healer. She is able to create heat at the tips of her finger tips, almost acting like a melting bot, and use that heat to melt metals into a goopy consistency before stretching it out and making it into a fine thread which she uses to repair objects or even other transformers.

#Dinero A former aspiring biologist, Dinero studied under one of the many brilliant minds in Cybertron culture. In all accounts, Dinero is technically a triple charger, with a root form, beast form and vehicle form alongside some extra secrets build into his body. He is also much older than he lets on, leading to some distrust he has for many people.

#Lupin Lupin was an experimental super solider made by Shockwave. Shockwave desired to know what would happen if more or less put a hellhound (yes that's an actual Cybertroian animal) on steroids, making something akin to a dire wolf x hellhound fusion adding in his (Shockwave's) intelligence. Which resulted in Lupin. Despite being a con, Lupin is not loyal to the cause nor Megatron, the only thing preventing Lupin from murking Megs is Shockwave.

AUs #Transformers: Armageddon An AU inspired somewhat by the fanfic Stop Me and is set in the prime universe to a degree. It has some apocalyptic, survival AU and can be summarized as "Everything that can go wrong, WILL go wrong." Is also tech a StarPrime StarOP AU

#Lost Light Time Loop Edition When discover Brainstorm in a new universe still had his time machine, Brainstorm, Rodimus, Drift, and Skids try to go back in time to fix everything so nothing bad will happen, but after the time machine is shot during the process, the four end up in a timeloop. And on accident on the first loop, they ended up dragging Whirl in for the ride too. Which becomes a theme, quickly, as they all try to figure out how the fuck to get out of this loop!

[penguin--person]

silly question but: does wolf alík look any different from a regular wolf? when she's fully transformed, is there anything that sets her apart, or does she just look like an average, straight up wolf?

ty for asking this actually!!! i think about this a bunch, like, what human traits alík keeps, if she can bark/howl, if a pack of wolves would accept her, etc !!! ill talk about this under cut bc its like . idk? im not sure if this is body horror ? like its not just her being a wolf , its her being a messed up wolf .. uncanny wolf up ahead!! + some blood but not that much.. also warning ur getting a much longer answer than you were probs asking for lol

so i made a little image getting into details about her mutation just now, But i do first want to show off this art that my friend blazy (@/mothssmeat - go check his art out its super swag!!!) made of her for artfight last year !! He Gets Her he gets her wolfness he gets it

check out the speedpaint !! blazy's sooo niceys for drawing such an awesome alík art ... its So good . do you see how her nose is turning into one of a wolf? but so painfully ?? so slowly that its just !! how shes tearing up, blood around her ?? god . like God. oh my goddd . and her fur !! how its growing in patches around her body, starting like wild from her head, her eyebrows combined, just like !! its growing around like mold and i find that really cool .. hehe sorry just had to fangirl about this art ofher . i dont get the chance oftne . anyway. in a more professional manner: god sorry i cant yet . oh my fucking goddd . oh my GOD !!!! just look at that . what is that thing!!! dear god!!! ok. im normal now (lying ).

look at her hands and feet. human joints should not be like that, and wolf paws do not look like that. her claws.. god just look at them. blazys art explains alíks messed up wolf situation far better than i ever could. her ears, too, are just... god, look at them!! i have to move on from this art or ill just keep saying "look at it!!" but, well. Look at it.

some of my own alík wolf art:) the first one is when shes fully transformed, but also the first ever art i did of her like that, so take it with a grain of salt, but still take it. the second is her like... in her metamorphisis era - my internet connection is kinda MEAN and EVIL right now so i can't add them rn .. ill either rb with them later or edit them into the post. for now i just put links to the images :( sorry! plus the mentioned image from before. now Onto serious business

something that alík always has, no matter form, is her human eyes - but they're not really human! their colouration is one of a wolf's, and her eyesight is also almost as good as that of one. this is messed up when she's in full wolf mode, because its really.. just, weird. can you imagine looking at a dog with human eyes? a cat? a cow? no!! because its weird!!!! shes a FREAK!! (affectionate)

another weirdo thing about her face is her teeth. hes got canine teeth, no doubt about it, but i do think she has a bit more teeth than she should have.. maybe three more... ? two more? i think the amount of teeth is not equivalent with neither the amount humans should have nor the amount wolves should have.. like 38 or smth. this doesn't change in her transformation, but her jaw and gums do! it hurts! Ouchies! it also shifts her teeth around.. tbh i wouldnt be surprised if she lost a tooth or two transforming sometime.

as you may have noticed, alík has most of her fur on her head! this is because of hair! she has a big ol' tuft of fur on her head when she's in wolf mode and it makes her look silly. depending on how far along in transition they are, their fur is like... its in blotches over their body. a tuft here, a tuft there, no fur at all someplace else... her spine gets covered in fur first. bc its like !! hair to tail:)

her limbs are weird, too. her arms are more humanoid than her legs - my friend mikey @/monstertsunami shows this wonderfully in his art of alík and their gf idk who she is i heard shes some kind of loser? ermmm what the freak🔥

oh wow it let me add an image that time Awesome!!! anyway, you can see how her feet are pretty pawsome, huh?? shes got pawpads - is that what its called for wolves? i cant find info :( - and her joints are more.. like, look at how she's standing! her ankles! everybody say thank you mikey... !!! this stays in her wolf form, in a way

in the 'mentioned image' from before, you can see - ifyou can read my handwriting lol - that there's text around her feet/paws (peets...) that says 'human hands - fucked up paws'. in the linked image 'first one' , you can see her fucked up wolf hands more clearly! thats something that ive kept. i think she could grab you, even as a wolf. she keeps her thumbs. even if they dont work as well. this makes running as a wolf difficult for her, because her fingers are very much in the way !! herr back feet are more wolf-like in her wolf mode, even twisting her hips to work better !! opposite goes for her hands, though - her arms, like.. theyre not good for wolves ! her elbow is forced into a shitty position, her shoulders are.. bad...

and, as mentioned, her nose is fucked up. the smell of blood is an intimate friend of hers 💥it like.. god, her face goes through So Much. her skull gets absolutely , like ... goddd shes definetely broken bones transforming before... her nose is like, stretched out ? idk how to explain it .. its like if you used the 'free transform' tool on it

in short, id say theres a few main things that set alík apart from a regular wolf:

human eyes

human hands (sometimes covered in fur)

teeth

body isn't always fully covered in fur (its not easy for his body to bust out ten thousand fur strands all over his body, ya know? needs resources for that to happen)

movement (can't run as well, vocal cords arent probs in the best state after her neck fucking... look at it)

smell. she smells weird. oyou dont care about that but wolves would i think

then there's like, little basic anatomy stuff, like she will Never have the proper body of a wolf . maybe if she was like, for a year as a wolf, or two, or maybe even fine her body would be like Ok were wolf now . and her bones would settle ... but this is a question of years and time she does not have. her lifespan is also all kinds of fucked up. if she wasnt being experimented on evey day of her life ever, she'd probs live until her 40s? maybe late 40s if she had a HEALTHY LIFESTYLE filled with JOY and WHIMSY!!!! but i think now she'll die like, in her pafl au, i dont think she'll make it to 35.. sad! ouppy gone

also im working on an alík thing .. + the other two .. but also alík

CANINE GIRL coming to YOUR THEATRES in SOON!!!! hehe... im not making a song thats like too much for me. i can only make music that soundgs good to me idk how to make music that others would find tolerable .. my blessing .. teehee .. ill make alík like, a page, like the tptm girls have .. nina and nastya too:) nastyas mockup page is done.. but im not showing!!! you get a sneakpeak of the text tho . ty for the ask ❤️im surprised its letting me add images now . wifis been weird all day .. u also get to see a wip of her display sona

idk what her name would be . superlative girl ? unrivalled ? irrelevant ? victorious ? precious ? vote in the comments down below!!!Ninas will be some shit like. unknown girl. apathy girl. etc ... i havent gotten to alíks display sona yet but you KNOW shes ouppy!!!!

okieee‼️‼️‼️thats it . hope ur ok with me sharing the tptm stuff .... ❤️❤️💥💥💥ty again for the ask !!!