#Which cloud technology is best?

[newstrendline]

What is cloud technology

What is Cloud Technology? Cloud technology is changing the way businesses operate. With it, companies can access their IT infrastructure, applications and data from anywhere with an internet connection. There are many different types of cloud computing. These include public cloud, private cloud, and hybrid cloud. They can also be categorized by deployment model and service model. What is cloud…

[amirasainz]

Request: Hey!! I just saw the Video of Carlos and his father driving hot laps together. Could you maybe write one where Carlos is doing it with his girlfriend, but she is the one driving. But he is like super terrified, cause his gf is the definition of passenger princess. Thank you

Of course! Enjoy reading and send me some requests!!!

-XoXo

Hot Laps

It was a radiant day on the Austin track. The sun was beaming, and not a cloud marred the sky. It was the perfect day for some exhilarating hot laps in a Ferrari, in your opinion. The air was filled with the scent of rubber and gasoline, a symphony of engines roaring in the background, setting the stage for an unforgettable experience.

When the Ferrari media team first approached you and Carlos with the idea of doing some hot laps together during the next race weekend, you were apprehensive. Not that you didn’t trust Carlos with your life. But driving leisurely through the picturesque countryside of Spain and racing at 200 km/h on a track were vastly different experiences. After much persuasion with promises of “Mi amore, I swear I won’t go too fast” and “I promise, I’ll buy you the new Valentino bag when we’re back in Monaco,” he finally convinced you.

However, the moment you both confirmed that you would be doing the hot laps together, Silvia altered the entire plan. “Sorry Carlos, we just think that the fans would enjoy seeing YN drive this time.” And boy, did you love that idea. Now, Carlos was the one hesitating.

You obviously had a driver’s license and your own car, but that didn’t mean you were an exceptional driver. Throughout your relationship, you had proven more than once that you were destined to be the Passenger Princess, rather than the driver. For instance, there was the time when you managed to knock down a road sign. While Carlos sat with a shocked expression next to you, clutching the door handle for dear life, you simply said: “Oopsie daisy,” smiled at him, and continued driving. Or the time when you attempted to parallel park, but after 30 minutes of trying, you had to call him for help.

So one could understand why Carlos was reluctant to let you drive. Now it was your turn to convince Carlos with “I promise I won’t go too fast” and “It will be so much fun, I promise.” What finally swayed him was the promise of “the best sex ever. Throughout the. Whole. Night.”

When the day finally arrived, you were more than ecstatic. The anticipation had been building up, and you could hardly contain your excitement. After the team let you on the track and you were securely strapped into the car (yes, Carlos checked the seatbelt several times), you were finally ready to go. The Ferrari’s interior was a blend of luxury and raw power, the leather seats hugging you tightly as you gripped the steering wheel. The dashboard was a marvel of modern technology, with a digital display that showed every detail of the car’s performance.

You started off slowly, which relaxed Carlos. However, on turn 7, you floored the throttle. “Ay! No, no, no, mi amore. Too quick, too quick!” Carlos screamed. While he tried to grab anything within reach, you were having the time of your life. You drifted and cruised on the track, the tires screeching as you took each turn with increasing confidence. Carlos’s screams of “The wall! The wall!” and “BRAKE!” didn’t deter you from your little joyride.

As you navigated the track, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline. The wind whipped through your hair, and the roar of the engine was music to your ears. You glanced over at Carlos, who was gripping the sides of his seat, his knuckles white. His eyes were wide with a mix of fear and amazement, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. The track’s twists and turns became a thrilling dance, each corner a new challenge that you eagerly embraced.

When you went for the last lap, you went too wide in turn one. Before you could hit the wall, Carlos grabbed the steering wheel, putting the car back on track. While you giggled like a schoolgirl seeing her crush, Carlos muttered: “Querido Dios, por favor dame fuerza y déjanos vivir otro día.”

Finally, the lap was over, and you brought the car to a stop. Carlos immediately undid his seatbelt before jumping out of the car. He lay flat on the track, taking huge breaths of air. You rounded the car, seeing your boyfriend lying on the asphalt. The rest of the team, who had been watching the whole ordeal, were laughing in the background.

“Carlos, why are you lying on the floor?” you asked with a smile, kneeling down next to him. Carlos took your hand before answering seriously: “Mi vida, I love you with my whole heart. But please, never ever drive a car again. You’re the perfect passenger princess, okay.” His request made you laugh so hard that tears escaped your eyes. Perhaps he was right. You ARE the perfect passenger princess.

As you both walked back to the team, Carlos still a bit shaky, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. You had faced your fears and had an unforgettable experience. The team congratulated you, and even Carlos managed a smile, albeit a nervous one. You knew this would be a story you’d both laugh about for years to come.

Later that evening, as you both relaxed in the hotel room, Carlos recounted the day’s events with dramatic flair, making you laugh all over again. The memory of the hot laps became a cherished moment, a testament to your adventurous spirit and the bond you shared. You realized that while you might be the perfect passenger princess, you also had the courage to step out of your comfort zone and create unforgettable memories.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

omgg yess plz part two of the overblotts

Overblot Universe (2) | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Part 1 • 3 • 4 • 5

“I’d be wrong not to speak my peace when both parties so clearly have withstanding debts with me.”

Both of you turn behind to look at the newcomer

Smiling wide he’s holding up a golden glowing contract 

Idia sucks his teeth moving to summon Ortho to attack

The blotted version does attempt to attack the overblotted Azul before being launched back after touching the golden shield that flashes around him

“You seem to have forgotten that my all-powerful contracts don’t allow for your retaliation!”

“Ahhhh!!!”

Overblotted Azul holds the contract up which sends an electric shock to Idia

He’s wailing like a baby completely missing the inky tentacle that grabs you by the waist

Pulling you towards him, you have no choice but to lean against him

“Good to see you, traitorous pearl. We have so much to discuss.”

Two of his tentacles squeeze along your sides as he lets his lips linger near your ear 

“S-s-S–T-O P it!!!” 

The pitiful wail comes from the blotted Idia who is doing his best to fight the constant beam of electrocution

The octopus-mer glares at him before letting that twisted smile spread back on his face

“As  a small currency back to me we’ll be using your technology to take our exit. Us two will be very busy with our own marriage contracts.”

“nO!”

His cries are ignored as you feel the familiar tingle of Idia’s teleportation working

When you are able to open your eyes again you find Azul expertly drifting in clouded water filled with ink

Barely able to make anything out you can begin to recognize the familiar office to the one in the Monstro Lounge

“To think he’d put you in such restraints when he’s bold enough to use his words. He just can’t stand being civil like us, right (Y/n).”

Azul easily slips a slither of his tentacle past your binds

getting ahold of the metal before he parts bending and then breaking it

In no time at all of your metal cuffs are on the floor bent and torn threw floating near your feet

It makes you especially vigilant when you feel the stray but exploring touches of the suctions on his tentacles

“Now that we’re alone, the subject of your contract is well over due.”

“But I haven’t signed anything with you.”

“I took the liberty of doing everything for you, I just need a bit more confirmation.”

You begin to struggle when you feel your arms bein pulled in the direction of a golden contract that’s still being written by a quill that writes on it’s own

“All that’s left to seal our union will be these special pearls of mine. Something I’ve crafted from the moment you sent me to this dystopian wasteland.”

Shivers go down your back at the further distortion in his voice

Only able to cowe away as his tentacles bring you closer to his string of pearls that have a similar golden glow

Looking at the contract in the corner you can’t help but tremble in fear

it’s much longer than a simple paper and the quill is writing even faster now 

Nonetheless you are coming close to the smiling overblot of Azul with no signs of stopping

Until he wheezes and falls over

His tentacles loosen allowing you to wiggle free

The golden contract stops crumpling in on itself and the quill blips away

You also begin to cough as something dark wisps in the water-like-space around you 

You fall over as well attempting to keep your eyes open as long as you can before seeing a silhouette reaching out to you

“You have been a thorn in my side for far too long.”

Hearing the twisted voice above you almost doesn’t make you want to open your eyes

But the nudging of something at your lips makes you snap your eyes open

It’s an overblotted Vil glaring regally at you as he continues to urge some inky substance into your mouth 

Turning your head you find it weighs so much heavier than your used to 

The same could be said for your for your arms 

Looking down finding jewels tied around the arms of a chair

More accurately a throne

Looking confused at the overblotted Vil silently asking the question you had

“Do not be so cold. Your queen only wishes to ease the pain.”

“W-what pain?”

“Do not mumble. Those meant for the mirror should never mumble.”

You only tilted your head in confusion as he backed a bit away from you

Motioning his hand toward a silver mirror similar to the one back home

Holding his hand out a black and purple shine made the mirror’s black center begin to twist and turn like ink being dipped into

Before it can do anything overblotted Vil’s hands hold your face 

Tensing as if decided to prick his metal claws into your skin and caressing them with fondness

Your own eyes meeting stormy purples before your lips are captured by black lips

The kiss is incredibly deep and purposeful

As though it was practiced a thousand times before

When he did pull away you faintly taste something unknown down your throat and the strength leaving your body like oxygen

“We both will have to wait until after the battle. Any good Queen knows their King is their most valuable asset.”

Gaining your bearings you try to speak only to feel your voice die in your throat as something cools over your skin

Looking down the ink crawling up your skin is reaching from the mirror 

The ink is cool and you can feel it pulling you from the throne you were on the binds snapping 

You begin to scream as you feel an uncomfortable tug at your heart 

You barely register the hands cupping the back of your head and the pinprick of another kiss on your forehead 

“Hush hush. Your time in the mirror will be short, your Queen plans to make quick work of all those…pests.”

Relentinig to the pull you stopped fighting the pulling ink 

Curling up in the somehow not so wet expanse of the mirror you barely caught the possessive smile of the over blotted Vil as he adjusted the mirror to stand in some unknown room. 

“Sleep well.”

You do

It feels nice to release your body of the tense feeling of constantly being alert

You blame whatever Vil had given you

Dreaming vaguely of what his plans would be when he returned

The crown still on your head might have been the beginning of what they were

No matter 

All that you could do was rest

And sleep….

And stay….

“Do not tell me? This is where you have been hiding?”

“I told you he’d do something like this.”

“Well Viper. A deals a deal. Shall we take them home?”

Part 3

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Falls First, Falls Harder [Scarabia & Ignihyde Edition]

Kalim Al-Asim

Falls First: You

Falls Harder: Kalim

Kalim has always extended a hand to you, being kind, open, and an overall ray of sunshine on a rainy day. You’re surprised he doesn’t have more people totally in love with him all things considered, as you weren’t exactly a special case. His overly friendly nature extended to everyone which left you with your crush on him feeling a little pathetic. For Kalim, the realization that he has romantic feelings for you is a slow burn, the flame slowly moving down the fuse until it suddenly reaches its conclusion and explodes into a cloud of emotion. Getting jealous when others keep your attention at event he invited you all to was one sign, but the impulse to invite only you was the real impactful point. You could just be living your very normal life as an NRC student, strolling to class when Kalim makes you very aware of his feelings, his confession loud and incredibly embarrassing if you’re the shy type. Now that he finally understood what he was feeling he can’t help but want to explore more experiences with you alone, eager to show you the beauty of the world and all things in it (and wanting to see what you could show him as well).

Jamil Viper

Falls First: You

Falls Harder: Jamil

The king of ignoring his feelings, there’s no chance in hell he’d indulge his own whims with all that he has going on. There’s a deep-seated fear that stops him from getting too close to you, one that whispers like a snake in his ear that he’ll never be enough. So, he decided he does not see you in this way, though it irritated him that Kalim always wanted you so close. It’s hard to ignore your feelings for a person when you were forced to see them every day, and while his constant babysitting of Kalim bred contempt, it’s not quite the same for you. While he did try his best to maintain that distance there’s something about fate that has you chained together, and it agitated him to no end when he thought too much about it. He can’t help but reach a boiling point when the obvious is pointed out to him so many times. So what if you love him? So what if he loves you back? What could you possibly hope to achieve by loving him? There’s a possessive side of him, one that wants to steal you away for himself. His dreams are filled with simplistic yet meaningful things; cheering him on during a basketball game, complimenting the sheen of his hair, laughing as you confessed you wanted his food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He was in too deep once those daydreams hit, the weakest points of his emotional barrier crumbling the more fate wrote in the stars that you were meant to be.

Idia Shroud

Falls First: Mutual

Falls Harder: Idia

The first time you’d ever noticed him was when you were at the opening ceremony, noticing a very interesting looking boy peeking at you from under his hood. When he noticed you staring he immediately tried to hide himself but you’d already caught a glimpse of blue flame and even bluer lips, so how could you possibly ignore him? You knew he had a bit of regret about drawing attention to himself, even from you, but you made it a goal to befriend the loner who’d rather immerse himself in technology than speak to an actual person. He made his pining worse when he tried to avoid you but your persistence paid off when Idia officially labeled you as a friend, seeming shocked you even wanted to earn the title. You at least find that Idia made time for you when you asked (which was for very select situations to not stress him out too much) and though he dreaded it, you being the one to invite him to school activities or social situations made it hard to deny. He still would on occasion but he at least balanced it out by inviting you to just spend that time with him in his room, the gentle pink glow the tips of his hair emit after realizing what he said leaving you with a bright smile as you wondered what it would take to get the full length of his hair to glow like that.

[gunsandspaceships]

Tony Stark - Prometheus

This is the final part of the series, which unites all the separate, thematic parts (links are highlighted in blue) with evidence of the conclusion that you will find at the end of this post.

Introduction

Prophet

God of Forethought: the name Prometheus means "forethinker", "foreseer", "prophet".

Creator of intelligent life

In Greek myths, Prometheus is the creator of an artificial form of life - the humankind. "He created them looking up to the sky like gods."

"Here I will sit, forming men after my own image. It will be a race like me, to suffer, to weep, to enjoy and to rejoice" (Goethe)

Earth's Best Defender

Prometheus takes on the protection of mortals from tyrant gods who want to enslave or destroy them.

"Cover your heavens, Zeus, with gauzy clouds, and practice, like a boy who beheads thistles, on the oaks and peaks of mountains; but you must allow my world to stand, and my hut, which you did not build, and my hearth, whose glow you envy me." (Goethe)

"Beautiful is the tradition Of that flight through heavenly portals" (Longfellow)

God of Fire

He stole the fire from gods to give it to humans to protect them, keep them warm and give them light in the form of science and technology.

"All the soul in rapt suspension, All the quivering, palpitating Chords of life in utmost tension, With the fervor of invention, With the rapture of creating" (Longfellow)

The Mountains

For that, Zeus ordered Prometheus to be chained to a rock in a cave and sentenced him to eternal suffering.

"First the deed of noble daring, Born of heavenward aspiration, Then the fire with mortals sharing, Then the vulture,--the despairing Cry of pain on crags Caucasian." (Longfellow)

Heart

Every day an eagle flew to Prometheus and pecked at the center of his life.

"Who helped me against the pride of the titans? Who rescued me from death - from slavery? Did you not accomplish it all yourself, my sacred, glowing heart?" (Goethe)

The Torture

For the sake of humans, Prometheus voluntarily accepted eternal pain and chose to suffer in silence.

"A silent suffering, and intense; The rock, the vulture, and the chain, All that the proud can feel of pain, The agony they do not show, The suffocating sense of woe, Which speaks but in its loneliness, And then is jealous lest the sky Should have a listener, nor will sigh Until its voice is echoless." (Lord Byron)

Chiron

Ancient Greeks had another myth - about the father of surgery, centaur Chiron, who once saved a hero betrayed and ambushed in the mountains.

Chiron was also the one who took on Prometheus' suffering and died in his place. He was shot by an arrow and to end his own pain exchanged his life for life and freedom of Prometheus.

The Sun

For humankind, Prometheus became the image of a noble fighter against oppression, and a symbol of human progress and creative freedom.

"When I was a child I did not know in from out; I turned my confused eyes to the sun, as if above it there were an ear to hear my laments - a heart like mine that would pity the oppressed." (Goethe)

Conclusion:

Taking all of this into account, I believe that Tony was not only inspired by the myth, but he himself is Marvel's Prometheus, at least in the MCU.

Excerpts from poems used: - "Prometheus, or the Poet's Forethought" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow; - "Prometheus" by Lord Byron; - "Prometheus" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

Bonus:

Kaos

"Prometheus brings Fire to the Cavemen"

Familiar names

Marvel and their love for Greek mythology

Prometheus, Goethe, Schubert, and RDJ

Thanatos

Life and Death

Comics

[grimesgirll]

like your weapons trainings or conditioning, getting to rick’s place for bedtime had become a nightly duty.

and okafor stressed the importance of being on time to you. after all, he needed his best soldier bright eyed and bushy tailed in the mornings.

you had to have your ass in rick’s bed by the time he was ready to hit the hay. it didn’t matter if he was planning on fucking you that night or just enjoying having another warm body around. okafor had clocked that you somehow increased the average hours of sleep rick gained each night and assigned you to a semi-permanent sleepover.

you watch from your elbows as the handsome man in front of you brushes his teeth.

this isn’t the first time okafor’s utilized your “girlish charm” or whatever the fuck he sees in you to get what he wants.

this is the farthest he’s ever asked you to go however. it was always innocent before; distracting important people, taking advantage of certain perversions to finish the mission. you shouldn’t complain. okafor did get you the job of your dreams, all things considered.

where else could you spend hours designing maps, establishing operation routes, and do it all with the help of formerly world renowned military engineers and some of the most advanced technology still left on the planet?

besides, the lieutenant colonel had kept his word; there isn’t a thing you want for at the moment. aside from the occasional homesickness which was gradually dulling into a numb, nearly nonexistent feeling, you didn’t yearn for much - only rick.

so now you spend your days in your new state of the art geospatial mapping studio and on your rare but highly anticipated surveying trips. okafor had reviewed your past surveying maps of the delaware valley with general beale and other senior staff - including rick - and your work proved fruitful enough to allow you a small team to continue surveying operations under the umbrella of logistics.

in all reality, okafor’s rewarding you handsomely.

and so is rick.

his southern drawl breaks you from your staring.

“huh?” utterly oblivious, you fall under his deep blue gaze.

“i asked you if i can turn the lights off." he repeats, fingers hovering over the light switch.

you nod. "yeah, i'm ready for bed."

the bed dips with rick's weight and like routine, you're drawn into his crushing embrace. rick liked to cuddle before bed. you don’t ask but there has to have been some wife or some woman somewhere who used to be in your position.

the soldier is stoic and stands on business, but that sour expression had begun to soften since you’d first seduced him on his sofa. little bits and pieces of a southern, east coast kind of background popped up through the twang of rick’s accent. anyone with a history with law enforcement instantly picked up on his past as a cop. you’d playfully asked if he had to cuff anyone before and just received a dim smile that started to sour until you threw yourself into his lap and cast away whatever storm clouds you’d brought on with kisses.

he’ll never outright tell you why he sleeps better with you or how he slept before he was even a consignee, but you don’t mind. the cozy embrace really gets you conked out every night, without fail. his dick does too.

that’s how you end up backing against him and tempting the hard outline that never seemed to disappear due to his size.

rick chuckles behind you but doesn’t move, just pulls you closer. "good night." he says with a kiss to the back of your head.

"night," you return, like you’re not jutting your ass backwards into him.

you’re shocked that he hasn’t said anything. rick doesn’t always take your touch so lightly. he’d punished you for teasing him in front of some of the air fleet’s officers by fingering you until you were begging to come in the repurposed law library next door just the other day.

the man only speaks up once your tight ass is rounding indisputable, deep circles against his groin. you couldn’t be anymore obvious with the gasp that flies out of you like a kite as soon as rick’s newly throbbing length twitches through his sleep pants.

“honey.”

“please, rick!” you pull out the begging already, having expected you would be fucked silly tonight.

“tonight’s not the night, darlin’.”

needy and craving the man beside you, your knees squirm. it’s only when you’re lightly kicking rick that he pays you any mind; your legs are shut closed by the force of his human hand and the prosthetic digging into your soft flesh.

the look he gives you is lacking patience. “now, what’re you doin’?”

“i need you tonight, rick,” you state plainly.

he scoffs and lets go of your thighs. “c’mon, honey, why don’t you just lay down and get a good night’s rest?” the gears are turning in your head and you’re lifting your legs and shifting between his legs before he can even try to draw you back to your pillow. he croaks your name when you start pawing at the drawstring of his pants. “honey, you need to-,”

“you need this,” you insist.

you’re not giving him enough time to complain with his sensitive head already on your tongue. rick curses his traitorous groans, and himself when he does nothing to fight against the firm hand you're utilizing to usher him onto his back.

"so, you want to relax?" he manages, despite the shudder inducing way in which fully go for it and swallow around him. midway down your throat, a light thrust and a near gag from you is all he needs to know your answer.

rick can only lean back and take what you give him. he's pretty sure that you're going to have him coming in your mouth but before he knows it, you’re face to face again. there’s no reason to be disappointed by the firm hold you still have on him with your hand. a few more sluggish licks and you’re readjusting, straddling him to tease his tip with the slick of your entrance.

"what about you?" rick’s rasping, not yet prepared after you removed him from your sweet mouth.

"what if i told you i came here ready?"

the statement has his cock jumping. you swivel slightly, clit bumping his own sensitive slippery skin. spit strewn, his head falls back at the feeling of his dick dipped into your engulfing heat - even half an inch.

“you sure, honey?”

“mhmm,” you confirm with a kiss and a grind onto him.

“really wanted it, didn’t you, darlin’?”

your confirmation comes out as a whimper. "i just wanna be full before bed. i wanna be full of you rick," and once those words leave your mouth, rick is decided and sending you from your knees to your back. he could never say no to those watery eyes.

a courtesy finger and some intricately placed kisses on your knees, thighs, and clit have you straining upwards. you're not burning for long because rick is ready to indulge you just as you wished tonight. without warning - not that you were wanting it tonight - rick fit himself as far inside your thick muscle as he could on the first thrust.

the stretch is familiar but striking enough for you to nearly double over onto him. you won’t fold in the face of your reward - at least not yet. determined to hold on, you plant two hands on the older man’s chest as you sink onto his thick length. his groans and your steady breaths are enough to lower yourself, and even fuck yourself you and down on him.

"thank you for fucking me tonight, rick." you cry through swollen lips and damp lashes. "i really need you to fall asleep," you confess in a tone no higher than a hushed hiss.

you don't know if you're expecting an answer but the quickened pace is to be expected. without a doubt, the man is sinking deeper inside of you as he forces his hips flush to yours.

"does this satisfy being full enough to fall asleep?"

the jolt he’s sending through your abdomen with each maddening plunge into you, has you fluttering around him.

“rick!”

you wake up with a hand on your ass and a breath behind you in your hair. it doesn’t last though. rick is gone before you know it and you’re left aching, craving him. you get him out of your system with your early morning physical training - pt - and a meal with your favorite fellow soldiers.

you’re not expecting to see rick again soon.

the office facing the arboretum and the airfield is typically a still place, plagued by the constant thrum of the planes and helicopters, yes, but those who worked in the building had grown accustomed to the white noise. you're so grateful everyone in your division is out at lunch when rick slams the thick wooden door open.

stirred from your half drafted map of the midwest, your head surges up. you don't have time to open your mouth before rick is talking at you in his sergeant's voice.

“there are ten minutes until i need to be down at the helicopter hanger. you need to get me off in eight.”

stunned, the command doesn't urge you to your feet just yet. it's the sudden slamming of the door that jostles you from desk to the plaid loveseat where you settle onto your knees on a cushion facing sideways.

rick shakes his head. "no, i want you on your knees on the floor in front of me. now." you sigh and carry yourself down to the polished wooden floors. "i don't have time to sit."

"why?"

"because what i said was an order. don't question it."

with that preamble, you waste no time finding his belt and expertly undoing the buckle in record time. your hands move as fast as they can given all of the work this bulky uniform requires. somehow you breeze through the layers and ignore the ache growing in your knees. your second pt of the day is going to destroy you.

as you strip down rick's thermal boxers, you wonder if he's keen on fucking you now too. perhaps you'd gotten your allotted pounding last night and this would be it for the week. you really can never know with rick.

the issue of time returns to your mind however, so when you grip his length, you only lick up and down enough to get him taking coordinated breaths through his nose and tautening.

“you’ve been demandin’ lately, doll.”

your thighs squeeze together at the nickname.

“maybe i want to be a little demandin’ of you.”

a gloved hand shoves your head down. the incentive to keep your moans quiet doubles when you hear commotion outside your office. right on time; your colleagues are returning to lunch.

“think you can quiet that big mouth enough?”

no words leave your mouth, you just swallow around his length, glancing up into his expanded pupils; almost void of blue. hollowing your cheeks, you remember the time crunch he’s in and put a little more pep into your step. this leads to you rocking a bit on your knees.

rick snorts once he catches sight of the development. “so needy, even just with a cock in your mouth, huh?” his teasing is cut off by the orgasm building up as he throbs against your tongue.

putting in the effort to counter more than a couple of gags, you allow your jaw to slack so rick can enjoy the unobstructed tightness of your throat - perfect for him to come without the mess, leaving it to your mouth.

you weren’t prepared to suck rick off in your office today but you’re determined to leave no trace of this interaction. when he spills down your throat, only a little bit remains on your reddened puffy lips. you wipe your mouth nonchalantly once rick flops out of your mouth, still gazing down at you.

“clean me up.”

an order is an order.

exhaustively, you trace patterns from his base to the spit covered tip that’s still twitching. “fuck,” he utters when you take him into your mouth again. “don’t have time for this,” he’s scolding and palming himself back into his pants, grabbing your hand to stand you up with him for some scattered kisses across your forehead.

he presses a kiss to your temple, traveling lower to embellish purple marks on your collarbone. you’re sure he’s about to do more than just wantonly groping your perky tits but a few more moan inducing punches for your nipple and he’s sealing the interaction with one wolffish kiss. you’re nearly stumbling after him when he pulls away, tugging the last of his belts on.

the door is flung shut and that’s that. rick’s gone.

you’re on rick’s bed before he retires for the night.

“good to see you again today.” you purr, nearly kicking your feet. “i’m feeling spoiled seeing you three times in one day.”

the soldier rolls his eyes. he drops his tactical bag on the ottoman in front of the bed. “you here to sleep? or mess around?”

you shrug. “your choice.”

hints of a sly smile are on the sergeant’s face but he walks away shaking his head before you can call him down to bed just yet.

you could just sleep tonight. rick had been turning you on enough for you to take a night off, preferably drifting off in his arms until you had to wake for your quarterly river survey with the geologists, engineers, and biologists in your neighboring divisions. you had a lot to prepare for come the morning. it wouldn't be terrible to unwind by getting off tonight.

the thought's put on pause once rick's arms wrap around you as he sinks into the soft, bedding. smelling of fresh toothpaste and some kind of beard balm, he’s more than ready to hold onto you like a vice for the night.

“hey.” you coo.

“hey there,” an arm escapes you to turn out the wall light still on over on his side of the bed. only the dim glow of the hallway light touches the darkened room now.

you turn slightly so rick can at least see the outline of your face - your eyes, nose, and lips in the dark. “what was that all about early?”

“hmm?”

"the asshole act earlier?"

“you needed to remember rank.”

an exasperated heave almost sends you to a seated position. “rank?”

“yes.”

the lack of playfulness in your voice has you wondrously thankful that he can’t see your eye rolls in the dark.

“that’s kinda fucked, rick.”

“says the one who just loves getting fucked.”

you shut up.

“getting on her knees, i don’t remember you complainin’ once i got you beneath me earlier today.”

you can’t say that you recall complaining either.

it feels like muscle memory when he gets you onto all fours.

set up on his knees with your cunt under his nose, rick licks a devastating stripe from top to bottom. then he’s coming back up again and squeezing muffled shrieks from you.

“you like that, honey?”

“i do, rick,” you reply breathlessly. you dig a clenched fist into the comforter. “fuck!” tears threaten your waterline already.

“like my tongue?”

“mhmm,” you writhe as he makes it his mission to bury his warm, wriggly appendage as far inside of you as he can. he’ll never be as deep as his cock but the difference in sensation has you nearly folding into the mattress.

the added finger has you squirming in conjunction with the taunting, flickering tongue working back out to your clit. eventually there’s a two pronged attempt to open you up. you’re clenching around his fingers when you hear him ask, “do you think you’re ready?”

“one hundred percent,” you breathe.

“‘kay, i need you to be one hundred percent sure of that, soldier.”

you tease on top of him at the mention, nearly jumping once you feel him at your entrance. lust centered, you nod your head assuredly. “yes, sergeant. i’m ready for your cock. ready to fulfill the mission.”

rick’s smirk and tousled curls are the last thing you see before you’re manhandled like a rag doll into the mattress.

then that rhythm that had you so worked up is paling in comparison to how full you feel with just a few inches of rick. whispering sweet praise and reminding you of the task at hand, you exhale and puff soft cheeks. the biting kisses from rick as he settles inside of you have your eyes already rolling back. his newfound rhythm only fulfills the trance you knew only ne could put you in.

crammed tight full of cock, you’re chanting his name and he’s petting your hair, praising you as you squeeze around him just excellently.

“you gonna come on my cock, soldier?”

“only if you’ll let me, sergeant.”

his balls slap against your clit, wonderfully matching the dull tap he’s testing on your cervix. it doesn’t matter though as he’s repositioning constantly and brushing the forlorn parts, placing his fingers in a painstakingly strategic position on your clit.

“want you so bad, rick.” the words tumble out as rick brings another hand from the fat of your ass to your tit. the touch has you arching, gasping and clawing at the sheets. “rick, rick!”

“love hearin’ you say my name,” he’s grunting into your hair when he lowers himself down to fuck you deeper.

this new angle that rick’s fucking you at has you incoherent. hips pistoning you into the mattress and closer to the mounting heat in your core that was threatening to ruin rick’s sheets. the pressure has tears cascading down your cheeks. if it was lighter you’d see them on the sheets but your bleary eyes only take in pillow, as your cunt takes all of rick.

a palm pushing down on the flat of your back. you sink further into the bed, allowing rick to penetrate you deeper. this newfound depth has you face down with a single trembling clawed hand to the sheets.

“rick,” you’re croaking, crying out for him.

one more thrust of his hips and you swear he’s going to break you.

he mutters a “fuck” and croons deep;

“michonne.”

pt. 1

[echos-gal]

ok i'm rapidly losing hope that Tech is still alive, and this sucks because it was basically the top thing i desperately wanted from this season. i wanted to see him survive. so here's my exhaustive and embarrassingly long list of reasons why he SHOULD still be alive, and if he isn't, why it was a missed opportunity. obviously no hate to the writers or anything, i love them dearly for creating this show!!!

(if you're a "Tech should stay dead for the stakes/so someone in SW stays dead for once/i hate delusional Tech stans" person, kindly keep scrolling, this ain't for you)

SEASON 2:

right from the start, Romar connects with Tech and calls himself "a survivor." HELLO???

in this same arc, Tech breaks his leg in a fall which he survives. he continues to walk on it, fighting off troopers to save Echo & Omega, showcasing his persistence and grit.

one of Phee's first lines is "better late than dead," and we know she shares a connection with Tech. she flirts with him later in this scene. it would be a shame not to reuse this line, i'm just saying....

Cid still owes Tech for racing for her in Faster. we see Cid looking miserable as she betrays the batch in Plan 99, so her playing a part in his rescue/comeback would be a nice way to show her growth. (i'm afraid there isn't enough time for this, though- as much as i thought a Cid redemption was on the horizon!)

Phee and Tech's departure is awkward, and although we have some context from season 3 (they talked more than we realized), the scene would do best if reconciled in person imo. it felt like it was setting up for something, and feels weird to leave hanging.

"don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers" could not have just been a throw away line. it set up for him to do exactly that. how fitting would it be if pirates or smugglers actually did manage to pick him up before the empire made it to the railcar crash site?

Hemlock's retrieval of the goggles shows that he sent a team to look through the wreckage. he thought there was a chance Tech survived, and may have him.

i won't go into the logistics, but big falls ARE survivable. in star wars especially. we have no idea what was below the layer of clouds/mist Tech fell through.

SEASON 3:

this is mostly CX-2 centric. their armor is very similar: the jaw/mouth shape, the hexagons over the ears, the rectangles on the chest, and the pouches/pockets.

"domicile." that is all.

CX-2 uses technology more than the other operatives we've seen, and he gets past the encryption on Phee's ship with ease.

"who are you?" was enunciated in the exact same way Tech says it to Trace and Rafa, which i definitely think was intentional.

CX-2 stops to use his rifle scope in the exact same spot where Tech and Phee stood to let down the ladders in the sea surge on Pabu.

he survives a waterfall plunge on Teth, which appears to have fooled Rex's group into thinking he'd died. the writers could have killed him off there and sent a new operative, but they chose to stick with CX-2 pursuing them to Pabu.

it's worth noting that while this CX is designated as "2," Tech's CT number is CT-9902. he is associated with the number even on a visual level: he's a dual-wielder, he wears goggles, he salutes with two fingers.

FROM A STORY PERSPECTIVE:

firstly, i am sorry and i LOVE the writers, but if you want people to accept a character's death, you've got to show his family and friends' grief. we saw no reaction from Crosshair or Phee, no tears from Hunter or Echo. it feels like fans were sadder about Tech's death than the characters in the story.

Tech seems to have been mentioned more in the second half of season 3 than the first half, which works if they want to bring him back in the finale.

the finale is called "The Cavalry Has Arrived." i really don't think you can have the cavalry (aka the bad batch) arrive without every member present. i also don't think it would feel right to play their theme without Tech there. idk, that feels incomplete!

we saw no body, and Hunter received Tech's goggles not from a trusted ally or friend, but from Hemlock. this calls into question the legitimacy of his claim that the goggles were "all he could salvage."

Tech alive and being held on Tantiss would provide a nice parallel to Echo in the first mission where we meet the batch, in TCW. and [ep 14 SPOILERS] we see that Echo is currently looking more like his TCW self, with his earpiece removed.

feels kinda sour that a character who a lot of people related to as neurodivergent representation would die just a few episodes after having a deep conversation with his sister about it.

likewise (and as a white woman i can't speak for WOC), from what i have seen, Black women are rarely the main love interest of a series! Phee is the ONLY love interest in this whole show, and it would suck to just cut off that romance before it could really become something. a lot of people wanted to see TechPhee become canon.

CX-2 is the one who destroys the marauder. it works well storywise for its pilot to have been the one to do that- the person who worked so hard modifying it, flying it, and teaching his sister to fly it. i'll be lowkey pissed if it turns out some random dude blew it up.

it's also CX-2 who invades and sets fire to Pabu. this is emotionally gripping on its own, but if he is Tech, it's even more so.

we have no idea what the operatives go through. Crosshair isn't telling, but it clearly put him in a really bad place. if Tech underwent this conditioning in his post-fall injured state, there's a chance he could come back from it. Emerie is probably the key to this, if they take the CX-2 route.

this show is all about a family trying to stay together as the Empire desperately tries to rip them apart. seeing the whole family together again - even if not everyone survives - in the finale is the satisfaction that the show ideally would go for. the last time they were all together was the season 1 finale. that was about 2 years ago in the show's timeline.

leaving Crosshair and Tech's final interactions be where they parted on the Kamino platform also feels off. Tech was the one who really vocalized the need to rescue Crosshair in season 2's finale. Crosshair, in the meantime, has changed significantly as a person. Tech's comment about Crosshair being "severe and unyielding," and unable to change this facet of his nature, is incorrect. leaving Tech dead would mean that he never gets to see this change in Crosshair, which makes me feel like a deflated balloon.

FROM MY SELFISH PERSPECTIVE!!!

give me Tech with cool scars and slightly disheveled longer hair. this is such a good opportunity for the creators to give him a sweet new look!

we never got to see Tech without his goggles on, despite Phee constantly referring to his eyes. he definitely doesn't have them right now (they're in the Archium), so we could get Mister Big Brown Eyes if he's alive. it's another missed opportunity if not, imo!

the goggles being placed in the Archium was a beautiful scene that makes me tear up whenever i think about it. it's symbolic, it's bittersweet, and it's exactly where the goggles belong. but was it closure for me? not really.

Tech is a character who became a LOT of people's favorite in season 2, including my own. why kill off a fan-favorite with an entire season to go?

yes, i desperately want a Rex and Echo series. yes, i want the batch to cameo in it, and yes... that includes Tech. making up for lost season 3 Tech content 😎

the finale will feature the zillo beast, and Tech loves the zillo beast. FREE HER! REUNITE THEM! he would love to witness her rampage.

FROM A "SURPRISE!!!!!" PERSPECTIVE

it seems like most people think Tech is either CX-2 or dead. it would be a great finale twist if we DID get CX-2's identity, it's NOT Tech, the audience loses hope, and then he shows up. i think this is actually plausible given the other assassin schematics Hemlock was looking at in Point of No Return. Tech might be in Hemlock's grasp, but not an active operative. having an enhanced clone to toy with is something Hemlock would want to keep under wraps. we see him step out of the assassin chamber at the start of that episode - if Tech is anywhere on Tantiss, i think it's here.

i think the writers have expected us to have all lost hope by now, so his finale reappearance would ideally come as a shock. the finale is almost guaranteed to be a very long episode, so we really might have quite a bit of time to explore his return, if it happens.

secret 16th episode: i know, i'm putting my clown makeup on as i type this. but the previous 2 seasons each had 16 episodes, with a two-parter finale. season 3 is just 15, with a single episode finale. TBB formally ends may 1st, so what if we get a may 4th surprise episode detailing how Tech survived? (that or an epilogue leading into a new series, which i think is more likely actually!)

[onskepa]

hello again! Could you make the sully family including Mo"at and tonowari family react to how to train your dragon and both of them to be in the same universe.

hello sweetie! Okie, so its been so loooooooooooooooong since I watched the movies, so I took my sweet ass time to re-watch the first movie [idk if ya wanna ask for more in the future]. So I only placed the important events. So sit back, relax and enjoy~!!

---------------------

Myth or Ancient?

“Here, and be careful not to touch the shiny part with your fingers, it can ruin the colors. So it's super delicate” Norm carefully instructs tsireya and rotxo who nod enthusiastically. “You can trust us Norman sir” rotxo promises with a wide happy grin. Saying their bye’s, tisreya and rotxo run to the village as they start to talk about what sort of ‘snacks’ to eat for when they watch the disk called ‘movie’. 

“Demon technology is very interesting when it is not scary. How can this round thing show colors or people?” tsireya wonders as she stares down at the flat box that is protecting the disk. Rotxo shrugs, “even if lo’ak or kiri explains to us, I get the feeling we will still be confused” he says. They make their way slowly as they look at the cover of the thin box. 

Tsireya squints her eyes and reads the letters but if anything, the bold red kinda annoys her eye site. “That is a lot of red…” she muttered. She usually sees human language in green or white. Rotxo leans in, “do you think the colors have different meanings?” he wonders. This time tsireya shrugged. 

Lo’ak and neteyam were showing ao’nung how a camera works while their parents chat in a not so far distance. Everyone had their noon meal, stomachs full and in a mood for tea as the other villagers enjoy their relaxing day. 

“Wait so I just stare at this circle thing and-” 

*SNAP!* 

“Ow! My eyes! Did it just blind me!?” Ao'nung screeches dramatically as he rubs his eyes, adjusting from the sudden flash of light. Lo’ak was cackling like a madman as neteyam chuckles at the reef prince’s antics. “Oh I have to see the result!” lo’ak says as he snatches the camera from ao’nung. 

As the boys looked at the result, mo’at, jake and neytiri were talking with tonowari and ronal. “There are many ways the people have enjoyed themselves, even with demon technology that causes no harm. We do keep it very limited to usage and the purpose of it” neytiri explains to tonowari and ronal. And as if on que, running towards them was tsireya and rotxo. 

“Mother, father, look what sir Norman granted us to see” tsireya says happily as she shows the thin box to the adults. Tonowari leaned in to see. “There are tiny letters that I cannot read so well,” he says. Tsireya hands it over to Jake to see if he can read which, Jake grins happily. “Babe, it's your favorite movie,” he grins. Neytiri's ears perk up and tail swaying happily, “how to train your dragon?”. Jake nods in confirmation. 

“What is it?” Tonowari asks, “something I believe you might all like. Come, let's prepare for what we call a movie night” Neytiri smiles wide as she answers his question.

Food was cooked and shared, many mats, cushions, and other forms of sitting was set as Jake and norm prepared the projector. Tonowari and his family got the best seats, right at the center where they can see the view perfectly. 

“How will we see this…movie?” Ronal asks as she cradles her young baby. Spider brought little treats for her baby kindly answers. “In simple terms, the movie will be seen like physical people telling their story, like 3D”. Ronal just stared at him, lost at the explanation. He chuckles nervously, “you know what? Best to see the magic yourself”. 

After 30 minutes of everyone huddling together, sharing their portions and for the Eclipse to take full effect of the night, norm began to press play. 

And for the metkayina family, they gasped in awe. Massive colors of mountains, the sea, the clouds! They looked so solid and floating in mid air! 

“Majic of holograms-” 

“Ok shut up lo’ak”

 “This is Berk…” 

The main character began to speak, narrating about his home and life. Show how it is at night, from the animals to the form of the berk village. The whole style captured the reef na’vi attention very well. 

“Incredible….” Tisreya mutters as she leans against lo’aks shoulder. 

“The only problems are the pest” 

The scene zooms in on the poker face sheeps, enjoying their nightly dinner with all of a sudden claws grabbing it. Ao’nung and rotxo gasped, just what was it? 

“Most people have mice, or mosquitos, but we have….” 

A door opens to see the sheep running away, and a monster flying dangerously close looked at the open door and breathed out fire. 

“Dragons!” 

“Dragons? What are those?” Tonowari asks, neytiri not far from his family simply smiles, “proud and fearless creatures, like the ikrans' '. Neytiri pops a popcorn in her mouth as she snuggles with Jake, enjoying her all time favorite movie. 

“Dragons…” Ronal repeats but with wonder. Oh they definitely have the family’s attention now. 

“What is he doing out here ag-what are you doing out here?! Get inside!” 

“That is stoick the Vast, chief of the tribe. They say when he was a baby, he popped a dragon's head clean off from its shoulders. Do I believe it? Yes I do” 

Hiccup narrates of the large man who was able to easily pick him like nothing. 

Tonowari looks at the leader being show, “why is his face mostly hair?” he asks. “Thats how the vikings were back then. Said to attract and scare off anything” Jake replies easily. Tonowari hums at that, slowly liking this stoick guy. 

The movie continues to show the insanity of the dragons attacks. Their fiery breaths destroy so many homes, taking animals left and right. And the people fend them off in many ways. Utter chaos all around, but shows how it is their normal everyday life. 

For lo’ak and spider, hiccup has become their favorite character. Despite the awkwardness and having to be kept inside from dangers, they can understand him on a deep level. Which is why they understand hiccup’s need to kill a dragon, his way of “making his mark”. 

“One day bro…one day” lo’ak whispers to spider. But the human boy nudges him away, “dude you became brothers with a tulkun. I think you already made your mark on that” spider says in a deadpan way.

Spider can understand hiccup from how their own bodies are. Yes spider isn't shaped to stand the planet's environments but he makes it through. Just like how hiccups is small and lanky, he makes his way through his crazy viking life.

“So many different types of dragons….and many are so ugly” Ronal says as hiccup lists different dragon species. Tonowari can't help but chuckle, his guess, dragons are not meant to be a pretty sight if they are considered dangerous creatures of the skies. 

“There are prettier dragons you know” Neytiri comments. 

Ronal turns to her, “how so?” 

“Later you shall see. I rather not spoil the fun”

As the scene goes on, the one, the only, night fury dragon has entered the battlefield. Everyone cheers for that dragon, a common favorite in the clan. “Amazing! I want to see the full view of the nightly beast-what is hiccup doing?” it was rotxo who said that. He enjoyed the building hype until the next part focuses on hiccup setting up what looks like a trapping weapon. 

“He is going to get himself killed!” ao’nung whispers/shouts. 

“Yeah, that is going to happen a lot in this” neteyam calmly answers as he offers popcorn to ao’nung to whom happily accepts. 

“Yes! Did anybody see that?!” hiccup shouts excitedly. 

“He did” tsireya points happily as the monstrous nightmare dragons crawls up from the cliff. 

“Well he is toast” 

Neytiri cringed a bit at Jake's joke, but held in her laugh.

But as the next scenes go, things didn't go as smooth as stoick would have liked. Having more things being burned at the dragon chases hiccup, only for later to be given a lecture in front of the massive crowd. 

“I feel you hiccup” lo’aks voice cracks as a single tea falls from his face.

“The forest looks so pretty” tsireya comments as she admires the pretty view of the berk forest. Similar to the omatikaya forest, yet it is still different. Human environment truly never bores her. But as she admires the scenery, they reach the part as hiccup searches high and low for the night fury dragon he has shot down while ranting and venting his anger. 

“He found it!” rotxo points out the obvious thing but doesn't care. The suspense grows, hiccup takes out his blade which makes the sully’s give out a chuckle. “Tuk’s blade is bigger and sharper than that” neteyam says as he calms himself. Tisreya looks over at him. “Now that you mentioned is, where are your sisters? I figured they would enjoy this too” she wonders. Neteyam shakes his head, “no, they have something better”. 

Not sure what he meant by that, but tsireya accepts his answer. 

“Oh he is a beauty…” ronal admires the slow scene of the night fury. Capturing every detail and its mesmerizing green eyes. The look of a dangerous, unpredictable hunter. Something about it gives chills down her spine. 

“Indeed, he is my second favorite dragon,” Neytiri adds. Ronal wonders if another like the night fury will appear later on in the movie. 

Hiccup takes deep breaths, hesitating, heart racing. 

“He isn't….he isnt going to kill the dragon is he???” ao’nung asks, already feeling sad for the poor beast. Nobody answers. The tension is rising. The music is rising to its peak. Will he do it? Will he cut out the heart? 

Will the night devil accept his fate? 

No because hiccup decided to cut the ropes and only faint a minute later after releasing the dragon. 

“That was crazy of him, but also with the night fury” tsireya looks at the scene. Feeling worried about hiccup. There was a lot of stress happening in those few short minutes. “Makes you think if he still wants to follow the ‘viking’ style like his people” ao’nung comments, making air quotes like how the sully kids do.

“Can you stop that?!” gobber shouts at fishlegs who for some odd reason is doing quick math as gobber lists the dragons that are behind the tight metal gates. 

“Interesting kids…” Tonowari obersves how each teenager is like. From the annoying twins to the tough girl act, Astrid. While at the same time, Jake was able to enjoy how Astrid was like. Reminded him so much of a certain tough girl. 

“Today is about survival. If you get blasted, you’re dead!” Gobber informs. Tisreya claps her hands as ao’nung listens to what gobber is saying. 

“It is just like an iknimaya. Learning at first hand, "Tonowari says in awe. He enjoys the scene as the kids in screen run for their lives and make a fool of themselves. The reef kids all smile as they remember their early stages and future stages of their iknimaya. 

“Is it similar to what you had to go through?” Ao’nung asks neteyam, the young boy nods “similar yes. Remind me of how we tamed out ikrans”. 

“And remember, dragons always go for the kill” Gobber stares at hiccup after his massive mistake. Ao’nung and rotxo tilt their heads on that one. 

“If that is true, why didn't the night fury attack him then?”

Hiccup began to slowly gain the trust of the nightfury, keeping his distance while feeding it fish. 

“I guess for humans its harder since neither the dragon or hiccup have a way to connect” it fascinates tisreya. Using a queue makes a bond easier. However for humans, it takes a lot of work and a lot of patience. And it shows the results. 

The nightfury, who was given the name toothless, has come to enjoy hiccups presence. 

“Their bond grows stronger” Tonowari looks in awe. Reminds him of how the animals bond and grow alongside the na’vi. As the movie continues, seeing how dragons live, and learning through hiccup, it was literally learning a whole new world, or in this case, the old world. 

Ronal however, seems to wonder about future possibilities. Balancing a secret and becoming ‘popular’ is multitasking. “It is only a matter before the truth comes to light…”

Ronal was correct. 

Hiccup’s secret was found out, without meaning to. He has a final test, to defeat a dragon in the trial dome. Everyone was cheering him on, but his life was in danger. Hearing his shouts, toothless heard and ran for his aid. Exposing to the whole village that the infamous nightfury was there all along. 

And to make matters worse, stoick used toothless as a naivator to find the queen of the dragons nest. 

“He is going to get everyone killed!!” tsireya shouts/whispers. Hugging her knees tight, feeling sad for hiccup and toothless. 

Clearly a war with the dragons seems very dangerous, even with the prepared weapons to take all of the dragons down, the queen is not a dragon that can be taken down so easily. And when she came to full view, was she terrifying. 

“So horrid…” 

“Yet to captivating” 

Neytiri and Jake enjoy seeing the metkayina’s reactions. The reveal of the queen never fails. “The queen will surely give me nightmares tonight” Ao’nung says, not liking how many sharp teeths the giant dragon has. Neteyam chuckles at that, “don't worry my friend, a true dragon queen is never ugly. Beautiful in reality”. 

Ao’nung looks over at neteyam with some doubt, “you make it sound as if you met a real dragon” 

Neteyam didnt say anything further and just enjoy the movie.

“NO!” 

Rotxo hid his face with the empty popcorn bucket, not wanting to see the impact of hiccup’s ultimate demise. Tsireya hides her eyes also, ready to cry if the poor boy is dead. “Please tell me he is not dead…I can't look '', lo’ak chuckles at that. “Come on, look, you will miss it” he encourages. Gently lifting tsireya’s chin to face the film, worry clearly seen in her eyes. 

In sigh of happiness and relief, they all see toothless covering passed out hiccup. Stoick goes to see his son, safe and in one piece. Well, almost in one piece. 

“Oh no…” Ronal covers her mouth as it is revealed hiccup lost his leg. Tonowari leans in, whispering to himself, encouraging hiccup he can do it, he can walk with his new leg. “It's not going to stop him, for sure” ao’nung says, his eyes so glued in to the final parts of the movie. 

“If the queen couldn't, nothing will” lo’ak says. 

“It was hardly a queen” netyiri gently scoffing at the dead horrid dragon. 

The door opens to show the village waiting for hiccup, welcoming back. And with a newfound perspective, thanks to him. Now the village embraces the dragons as their new companions. And of course, a new saddle to ride on, hiccup takes his flight in the new era of humans and dragons. 

“This is berk, its snows 9 months of the year and hails the other three. Any food that grows here tough and tasteless, the people that grow here even more sore. The only upsides are the pets. While in some places have ponies, or parrots, we have dragons” 

The credits began to role, thus the movie ended. 

Tsireya and rotxo clapped enthusiastically, as ao’nung nodded in appreciation. Ronal and Tonowari nodded to neytiri and jake, their way of saying thanks for the delightful entertainment. 

“That movie was incredible! But, were dragons indeed real? Have they gone extinct?” Tsireya could help but ask. She learned that the vikings were indeed real, but what else was real? As she asks aways, Ronal couldn't help but just notice something. 

“Neytiri, where are your daughters? I haven't seen them since we got here” she asks. Neytiri chuckles a bit as she prepares some late night meals for everyone, “they will all be here soon” 

“No sooner enough” was the voice of mo’at as she entered their home. The sully family welcomes her in, the metkayina greeting the tsahik. Mo’at sits beside her grandsons and accepts the meal from jake. “Where is kiri and tuk if I may ask? They missed such an amazing film!” Tsireya asks mo’at. 

“That movie of the dragons? I have seen it endless amounts of times I can recite the whole thing. My granddaughters would agree on that” mo’at answers. 

“But where are they?” 

“Enjoying the real dragon experience” 

This confused the reef na’vi a bit. But before anyone else can say anything, there was a loud shreek. It was an unfamiliar sound, at least to tonowari and his family. But this sound brought smiles to the sully family. “Right on time” jake said, everyone running out to see what it was. 

Opening the flaps wide, ronal peeked out and gasped loudly. 

“Is that…” 

“Oh my Eywa they are real!!” 

A dragon! A mighty one at that! It gently flapped its wings, landing down safely on a very thick branch. Climbing down was kiri and tuk, whose hairs were literally everywhere. “We are home!” tuk announces happily, running towards jake who catched her in mid jump. “Mom, you should have joined us, it was simply wonderful,” kiri says as she smiles. 

Tonowari and his family were left stunned and speechless, a dragon, in front of them! 

“Come on, dont just stand there, you want to meet her?” Lo’ak says as he and neteyam go to the dragon. 

“Her…?” tonowari repeats. Neytiri happily goes over to the dragon and gives her many kisses, the dragon releases what sound like pleasing purrs. 

“Yes, this is…..” 

The ending is up to you to interpret. But I hope you guys enjoyed it! Until next time! See ya!

[vickyvicarious]

On the summit of the East Cliff the new searchlight was ready for experiment, but had not yet been tried. The officers in charge of it got it into working order, and in the pauses of the inrushing mist swept with it the surface of the sea. Once or twice its service was most effective, as when a fishing-boat, with gunwale under water, rushed into the harbour, able, by the guidance of the sheltering light, to avoid the danger of dashing against the piers. As each boat achieved the safety of the port there was a shout of joy from the mass of people on shore, a shout which for a moment seemed to cleave the gale and was then swept away in its rush.

The searchlight is important as a plot device to allow us to 'see' how Dracula brings the ship to land even in the midst of the storm. But in-universe, this is another lovely moment of people being good to one another. They are all invested in saving whoever they can from the storm (Dracula), they cheer at each victory. Loud enough to "cleave the gale" (to halt him) for a moment each time, before their voices are overwhelmed again.

This is also another moment of modernity/technology against ancient magic/nature*. The searchlight is new, operating it is an experiment. And the use of this bright modern light is able to cut through the darkness Dracula has brought, to save people from the death he would have brought them. Of course, none of them are his targets and if they were this wouldn't have worked, but just as background characters saving other background characters helps support the theme of people helping one another, I think Dracula's focus on his own needs leading to plenty of deaths he might not even notice or care about is really consistent with his role in the story. He's the main villain, he's a monster who causes very direct and personal pain, yes. But he's also a vector. Suffering and death travels with him. Sometimes he causes it, almost casually (the mother he killed), sometimes he doesn't even particularly notice it (the people who die in this storm), sometimes it is a ripple effect from something he deliberately did (I shan't say right now). But even before his physical arrival in Whitby, the clouds gather overhead, the ominous tone builds - and now that he is here, things will go wrong. It's just what happens around him. But it can be stopped. At least some of it. At least some people can be saved, and that's reason enough to cheer... even if your voices are lost in the gale again shortly after.

(Speaking of: Dracula as the storm. The storm silencing people's voices. Themes~)

* Though the caveat here is always of course that Dracula himself is being innovative/modern too, in his own way. He's crossing running water, all by himself! In fact, it's possible the searchlight helps guide him in to shore better as well, and if so that plays into a whole nother thing about people trying their best and Dracula taking advantage to harm others. And then those who know feel guilty about their role as his unintentional/coerced aid...

[plagueddead]

Technoverse - A guide for interaction roleplay and insert wise.

This was EXTREMELY requested

This blog exceeds to help newcomers to my AU environment. This blog will be updated over time if I see fit to change how this works interacts with itself. This blogs images will be updated over time if I find more suitable matches.

Photos have been found through Pinterest and art station. I will try and credit the source if I can.

This is an AU inspired by Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. This is a free to join au. Major canon characters are prohibited from being claimed. Villains are up to discussion.

This is a isn't the backstory post of the turtles but the world they live in.

THIS AU CONTAINS TOPICS OF RACISM, ILLEGAL SUBSTANCES AND ACTIONS, AND VIOLENCE. Though I've done my best to try and make it as friendly as possible. This AU is a 16+ story due to these warnings.

Current AU time

25 years after the ROTTMNT movie.

AU Theme

Cyberpunk dystopia

Fantasy

Dark fantasy

Major city settings within AU

New York, Hong Kong, Tokyo, Seoul, London

City Summary

After the integration of Yokai as independent civilians and free citizens world wide, and with the collaboration of their technology as well as krang salvage, a new system of buildings and interlinks have been created to accommodate citizens. Buildings stacked overhead that pierce the clouds, the old world was left to turn into slums and poor living areas on ground zero. Due to permanent clouds caused by pollution and overhead cities, these major empires are in a permanent state of darkness. Neon signs often light these cities to create a spectacular aroura of lights and designs. Though with a permanent overcast comes with a cost, as rain clouds mix with polluted smog to create a toxic like rain that causes many illnesses. It's common among every citizen to keep an oxygen mask at all times in case of rain.

City main inspiration and reference: Altered Carbon

Major cities as listed above are unique as floating SSC (Solar System Cosmopolis) Cities cover most of the dense populated area. These floating cities serve as purpose as secured homing for politicians, celebrities, and mostly the rich. Though they are also engineered mega labs founded by Barron Draxum and Donatello Hamato. They serve to bring back and study extinct species, cultivate cures for major diseases, and help improve on already futuristic technology. They spin very slowly and resemble that of a solar system. Hense the nickname.

These cities are held afloat by a self sustainable gravity generator that uses the gravity of a man made miniature star; created by Donatello Hamato (age 20).

Main inspiration from CMD Studios recent project!!!

Hidden cities

These main cities are focused world points for another reason. They rest above other hidden cities in which they have their own theme and setting.

New Yorks hidden city belongs to Big Mama, a spider Yokai who deals in illegal gambling and the distribution of illegal mystic items. NY Hidden city remains as a hub for traveling species of Yokai from all around the world.

Hong Kongs hidden city belongs to [REDACTED TBA]- A Dragon Yokai who deals in illegal sales of mystic items and krang salvage from the old battle.

This hidden city is less developed than the others, as most accomodation plans have been denied to preserve its pristine buildings and history. This hidden city resembles deep mountain caverns with buildings built into the sides. Common mystical creatures from Chinese mythology live within this city and rarely travel. Humans are not allowed.

Main inspiration by David Noren!

London's hidden city belongs to [REDACTED TBA] A plant like fairy Yokai who often helps with creating forged ID's to help Yokai find a better place to live. She also is known to sell potions that aren't approved by the hidden cities overlords and FDA.

This hidden city has developed slowly over time, but due to quick overgrowth of plants and trees. Most buildings have been built into large glowing trees that hang over the city in beautiful rainbow colors. The ground is a great hub for growing fruits and herbs for medicines. The Yokai in this hidden city are spirits from English folklore. They have spread over different cities over time.

Main inspiration found on Thin blue line on Pinterest!

Seouls hidden city belongs to [REDACTED] a Polar Bear Yokai who deals in illegal weapon distribution and species trafficking.

This hidden city is up to date and mostly in an indoor environment due to this hidden city being within a freezing temperature climate. More artic themed Yokai live within, but this hidden city is popular as a summar retreat by humans and other Yokai looking to stay cool for the summer. But this hidden city isn't as welcoming to humans as the others.

Main inspiration by Annabale Siconolfi!

Tokyos hidden city belongs to Yeosobai. A jellyfish Yokai who deals with handles most black markets and distribution of illegal substances.

This hidden city is completely underwater. Surrounded on a deep voided ocean under Japan, pod cities have been added to accommodate air breathing citizens, though most buildings were air tight even before. This hidden city is also a large hub for tourists due to its underwater appeal. This city distributes most seafood around the county. Known for its large amount of attractions and adult clubs, it's also a very crime ridden city.

This is also where Current Donatello resides.

Main inspiration creator unknown

Human and Yokai stances

With the sudden booming population of mutants and Yokai integrating into human society, of course tensions and protests by humans were bound to happen. A world they were so used to was building into something unknown before their very eyes after all. And so, tensions between species rose.

Humans with a deep dislike towards other species either hide their hate, or become extremists. Often getting tag as cultists as over years hate crimes toward Yokai and mutants became a world wide situation. Yokai were often kidnapped from their homes to be found barley recognizable by their attackers. Yokai would retaliate, and after much tension, civil wars broke out. Protests for safer living for both species were in demand, and so most governments integrated an artificial intelligence police force that contained mostly droids to prevent race picking. Most countries have adapted this form of law enforcement.

Cultists are still a major problem though their numbers have thinned.

The term Mutant has become a word to target Yokai and mutants in a hateful way, and this word soon became outdated. All non humans are now under the identification of Yokai. This includes mixed races between the two.

It's common for Yokai and humans relationships! Often by now the first generations of Yokai and humans hybrid children are born!

There are even schools for these rare breeds as they are still being studied as a new species.

It is illegal for most countries to have discrimination between species. No Yokai only or human only living spaces, restaurants, or shops.

Though within most slums there is a secret rule to separate the species as mostly disgrunted humans and Yokai live here.

And now we're here!

I want my character to join the au, but I don't know what's allowed!

This part of the blog aims to help you adapt your character into this new universe.

What should my character wear?!

It's really up to you! Most humans and Yokai wear mostly cyberpunk themed clothing! Often I find Pinterest as a source of inspiration. I think your character would fit better if it comes from a certain part of the world. Armor and glowing clothes are welcome and encouraged! Get creative!

I want my character to have cool robotic limbs and mods in their body! Is this allowed?

Yep! And encouraged! This is a futuristic setting! So modifications to the body aren't uncommon!

Can my characters have cool unique weapons?

Of course! And I'd love to see them!! 🔥🔥🔥

Do I have to ask before joining this AU?

Nope! But I'd love to see/read your creation! Or see that you're inspired to join!

Does my character have to be human?

Nope! Any species welcome!

Can my character already know personally main characters?

That's up for discussion. Current time Donatello isn't open to being known nor talkative to strangers. I'd like it if you didnt. He's playing dead unlike the rest of his brothers. Leo's up for discussion but with Mikey and Raph, they are more social and I can see them having multiple friends. Leo's treated more as a police officer and doesn't have a lot of friends due to his work.

Can my character work for the main boss Yokai of the hidden city.

Yes! I'd like you to stay close to what they do in terms of how they run things!

Can I claim ships with these characters?

NO.

Claiming ships with only your characters and main cast is prohibited. That's why Y/N is created as a medium for all 18+ participants that want to ship their characters with main cast. Ships are fun and welcome! But you cannot claim it as a you only ship.

Thank you for reading what I have for now! More to be added!

[off-the-rails-raccoon]

Any favorite dsmp headcanons? Or any of yours?

I have an entire Google doc dedicated to heacanons that desperately need to be revisited and rewritten so I'm SO HAPPY you asked this!! Though, I'm not sure where I got them because i usually come up with them by something extremely vauge, or something i saw multiple years ago revamped to fit my interpretation of the lore. Of course, I'll only put my favorites, otherwise it'd just be mindless rambling and written works I'm not proud of <3

—Tommy was Aroace and used both He/Him and They/Them pronouns, but prefered masculine pronouns to be used more often.

—After the “Prison Incident,” Tommy suffered slight brain damage, which rendered him unable to perceive depth.

Because of this, Tommy became embarrassingly clumsy. They would constantly bump into door frames, knock cups over, and stand too close to people.

—There was never a day that went by where Tommy didn't gain a new injury. It may have been an odd bruise on his leg or a cut on their face from falling, but he always had something new.

It was rare to see Tommy without bruises or blood staining their face; most of the time, it was just from whacking himself in the face or the near constant nosebleeds he got on a daily basis for no known reason.

—Tommy had an excellent resistance to food poisoning because of how strong his immune system was, thanks to them spending the entirety of their life consuming less than edible things, including: mud, dirt, moss, small rocks, various types of bugs, flowers, unidentifiable berries, bog water, playdough, rain water, blues clues toothpaste, a chunk of the Egg, random mushrooms, old cigarettes, seaweed, puddle water, uncooked meat, Wilbur's cooking, paper, puddle water, grass, bones, battery acid, raw salmon, worms, and occasionally rotten flesh, oddly.

—Due to dying so close to lava when Tommy was resurrected, it reset his normal body temperature to the unnatural warmth, leaving them vulnerable to the cold.

—Upon being revived, Tommy experienced a sensory overload—after being in limbo for over two months where there was no sensory other than the occasional “visit” from another occupant—and, much like his body temperature, his tolerance for touch lowered drastically.

—Because of the magic transferred from the Revival Book to Tommy, as well as the effects of the Blessing (<- a headcanon not yet developed enough to be put into words)—and probably bits of radiation poisoning from hanging out in Tubbo’s lab too often—they glowed a slight purplish hue, really only visible in the dark.

Tommy, simply wanting to cause chaos, had told Beeduo that he swallowed an entire glow-stick and the radiation he got from Tubbo and his workshop had reacted to the liquid inside, and, the best part, they believed him. (They didn't actually believe him, but they together decided against questioning him further, and instead chalked it up as another cryptid feature of his he didn't want to admit.)

—Tommy occasionally worked part-time jobs at Las Nevadas as a waiter or bartender for pocket money to give to Wilbur.

—Tommy had the same voice as Finn from the hit show Adventure Time.

—While Tommy had a wide variety of songs they listened to, he used to only have access to The Able Sisters and animal crossing soundtracks, given that technology and the ability to access other servers universe-wide was still fairly unexplored.

Because of this, on the rare occasion Tommy didn't have his headphones playing, they would often have audible hallucinations of The Able Sisters in the background.

—Tommy had a habit of biting or chewing on whatever was in hand, to provide a sense of comfort and security.

Often he’d hold his communicator just to chew on it, as an attempt to focus the strong emotion that clouded his thoughts into something physical. Or, more often than not, he’d bite his pointer finger and just hold it between his teeth, which would slightly muffle his speech.

Developed from childhood, the sensory stimulation mannerism originated as a coping mechanism for stress or uncertainty, but gradually evolved into a subconscious habit over time.

—Starting in early Logstedshire, Tommy had begun talking to themself both as a way to cope with the isolation and fill the achingly unfamiliar silent atmosphere, and to continue practicing their German, Spanish, Russian, and Dutch, so as not to get rusty with the languages. However, as time progressed, Tommy's quiet comments to himself turned into loud discursive monologues about both everything and nothing, bouncing incomprehensibly between five different languages, often lasting hours.

This habit had persisted even after his solitude had long since ended, meaning, anytime Tommy would get lost in their own head, he would begin to unintelligibly ramble aloud without realizing (much to the disgruntlement of Technoblade and many, many more).

Oftentimes, it worried Tommy, due to the fact this very habit was one of the first few signs of Wilbur’s spiral.

—Despite their insistence about being 6’ 2”, Tommy was at most 5' 11”. He molded an enlarged raccoon paw-print to the bottom of each of his shoes, to not only disguise his footprints, but also to make him appear taller.

The mold doesn't effectively hide his footprints anymore because of his runner blade where his right shoe would be, and when putting the raccoon paw-print next to the elongated groove, it created even more distinct footprints than before. (<- this last part is a tad outdated considering I now have the unwritten design trait of him wearing mismatched shoes, which wouldn't work with a runner blade)

—Tommy had a bad habit of spending days “tabbing out” (canonically dissociating, like seriously i can't make this up) in dark areas with little to no sunlight or light in general—like their house from paranoia, a random cave to gather cobblestone, or the church for praying—enough that they accidentally grew an increased sensitivity to sunlight.

He did this without anyone's knowledge, but Tubbo was usually able to tell by how much Tommy squinted and shielded his eyes when outside.

—Due to how unnatural it was, the use of the Revival Book caused aging in any dimension except Limbo to permanently cease in its victim. For that reason, Tommy remained nineteen even around three years after the ‘Prison Incident’.

Eventually, Tubbo and Ranboo became fully fledged adults with the responsibilities of a child, mansion, and even a nation, yet they still remained in close contact with Tommy despite the difficulties that came with maturing while he stayed the same nineteen year old he was. Even still, he provided a welcomed constant presence in their chaotic lives. (<- I view this as more of a au than an actual headcanon because I like the idea of benchtrio being around the same age)

—Because Tommy learned to stitch sutures before any actual sewing techniques for fabrics, the original L'manburg uniforms—although almost professionally designed with the help of Niki—were very stiff and hard to move around in.

That actually turned out to be most of the headcanons, my bad!!

[probablyasocialecologist]

The rapid growth of the technology industry and the increasing reliance on cloud computing and artificial intelligence have led to a boom in the construction of data centers across the United States. Electric vehicles, wind and solar energy, and the smart grid are particularly reliant on data centers to optimize energy utilization. These facilities house thousands of servers that require constant cooling to prevent overheating and ensure optimal performance. Unfortunately, many data centers rely on water-intensive cooling systems that consume millions of gallons of potable (“drinking”) water annually. A single data center can consume up to 3 million to 5 million gallons of drinking water per day, enough to supply thousands of households or farms. The increasing use and training of AI models has further exacerbated the water consumption challenges faced by data centers.

[...]

The drinking water used in data centers is often treated with chemicals to prevent corrosion and bacterial growth, rendering it unsuitable for human consumption or agricultural use. This means that not only are data centers consuming large quantities of drinking water, but they are also effectively removing it from the local water cycle. Dry air reduces the risk of corrosion and electrical issues in the sensitive equipment in the data centers. The lack of humidity in water-stressed regions, such as the American Southwest, makes it an attractive location for data centers. This means that the regions in which it is “best” to locate a data center due to its arid environment has the highest marginal cost in terms of water consumption. In the Phoenix area alone, there are 58 data centers. If each data center uses 3 million gallons of water per day for cooling, that equates to over 170 million gallons of drinking water used per day for cooling data centers. This massive consumption of drinking water for data center cooling puts a strain on the already fragile water supply and raises ethical questions about prioritizing the needs of tech giants over the basic needs of residents and agriculture.

[...]

Optimizing renewable power with AI and data centers at the expense of increasing water consumption is not a sustainable solution. Prioritizing one aspect of sustainability, such as reducing carbon emissions, while neglecting another crucial resource like water creates an illusion of sustainability. In reality, this can lead to unsustainable practices that can have severe unintended consequences for individuals and farmers, especially in water-stressed regions.

[quadrantadvisor]

Moulting, Good Omens, Falling!Aziraphale au, 2831 words

-

Aziraphale sipped at his chardonnay (not vintage, nothing special, just something he’d picked up to share with company) and sighed contentedly. It’d been a lovely day. Not inasmuch as that the weather had been nice, but rather in that he’d met up with Crowley at St. James’s Park that morning, underneath the gloomy, overcast sky, and then they’d spent the day together. A walk until the rain started coming down, lunch in a new restaurant owned by a pleasant Korean couple, and a trip to the cinema at Crowley’s insistence. Then, finally, to the bookshop to drink and chat. It was getting late, now, and the sky was dark with heavy clouds.

“So you didn’t like it? Not even the actors?” Crowley asked, a note of complaint in his voice.

Aziraphale resisted the urge to roll his eyes, because it was a terrible habit really, and suited Crowley much better. “That isn’t what I said, I’m just not sure that I understood the point of it all. They all seem rather manic, running around as they do, don’t they?” He took a sharp breath, and tried to work his shoulders back and forth discreetly.

Crowley gestured towards Aziraphale with his wine glass, nearly spilling, but of course the liquid knew better than to slosh out. “In about 50 years you’ll get used to them, and then they’ll invent some kind of immersive hologram technology, and you’ll be saying what a shame it is that no one appreciates films anymore because they were true artistry.” Crowley was looking at him, then, and frowned. “Are you feeling alright?”

Aziraphale gave his best smile. “Oh yes, of course, tip top shape!” Aziraphale knew that he was no good at coming up with excuses on the spot, so he’d prepared one earlier. “I tried out that sleeping thing again, but all it seems to have done is bother my back. These corporeal forms really are much too sensitive.”

“Mm, right,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale couldn’t tell if he was buying it or not. There was certainly no reason for him not to buy it. Aziraphale was too tipsy for this, and Crowley was still wearing his blasted shades. Crowley pulled out his mobile phone, glanced at it. “Speaking of, I ought to be off.” He downed his drink and grabbed for the jacket he’d slung over his chair.

“I thought that there was no rest for the wicked?” Aziraphale tried, smiling weakly.

He was rewarded by Crowley giving him a sly look and saying, “Surely you’ve heard of beauty sleep.”

Aziraphale chuckled at him, and stood at the same time Crowley did, to walk him to the door. Only polite. “Don’t forget to sober up before you drive,” he chided. “It’s dangerous.”

“I know, I know.”

The rain was coming down heavily, the sound near overwhelming once the front door was open. Aziraphale thought that Crowley met his gaze for a moment, but the lights were too dim to tell. “See you later, Angel.” He stepped out into the wet, immediately drenched.

“Yes. Later.” Aziraphale kept watching him, saw him shake himself free of both the alcohol in his system and the rain, which began to sheet away from his artfully tousled hair. He got into the bentley, drove off into the dark.

Aziraphale closed the door gently, muting the downpour. He stood for a moment, breathing.

Well. Best to get it over with all at once.

Aziraphale rolled his shoulders back and gently, gently, pulled out his wings. He stretched them to their full length. Then he shook them.

Pain lanced through him, like hot irons applied to exposed nerves, and he gasped. Blackened, singed feathers fell straight down, rather than fluttering, and made soft plink-ing noises as they hit the floor. Like huge, dark raindrops. As they built up around him their smell began to waft up, and Aziraphale nearly choked on it. Sulfur and burned hair and acrid smoke. There were so many this time, must be a few dozen at least.

Good. Aziraphale wished that there was a way to speed this whole process up.

There was, of course, but he didn’t know how to implement it without coming off strange. It wouldn’t do to crowd the dear boy; Crowley needed his space, certainly, and Aziraphale would never want to intrude where he wasn’t welcome. When Crowley wanted to see him, he would seek him out, and Aziraphale would have to continue relying on that.

He’d just left, and Aziraphale already missed him. How silly. His wings seemed to be clear, and Aziraphale let them droop, near touching the floor themselves. He swiped at the tears building up in his eyes. How pathetic. An angel, making such a fuss over a few feathers. It was good that Crowley was gone. Aziraphale wouldn’t want him to see him like this. No point in feeling sorry for himself. No point in feeling lonely. Aziraphale had already made his choices, and now he would see them through.

Just one more moment. Just a few more deep, ragged breaths.

Aziraphale went to find his dustpan. Couldn’t leave the ghastly things lying about, where anyone could see them. That wouldn’t do at all.

-

It had all started some months after dear young Adam had kindly stalled Armageddon, nearly a full year. Aziraphale had been in the middle of sorting inventory (read as: doing some light reading) when the phone rang. Aziraphale jumped to answer it, because odds were that the only person calling would be Crowley. Aziraphale had put the shop's phone number up on its website, naturally, it was the done thing, but that didn't mean that anyone else had access to it. Said website was nigh unsearchable, and completely innavigable for anyone who did find themselves there (could Aziraphale be blamed for having trouble with all this newfangled technology? The fact that it was the perfect cover to keep his bookshop out of the public eye was just a bonus.)

Aziraphale picked up the phone with a bright, "Hello!" wondering what plans Crowley might have for the day.

"Ah, Aziraphale," said a familiar voice. Charming and confident, affable in a way that was distant, above it all. "I see that this human contraption works, after all."

"Gabriel?" Aziraphale was frozen in shock. He had seen neither form nor feather of another angel since they'd dragged Crowley off to heaven in his body. He'd been quite hoping that they'd all forgotten about him after the hellfire incident. And in any case, heaven never communicated through indirect channels. For his entire time being stationed on Earth, Aziraphale had always sent and received paperwork through heavenly messengers, and if his supervisors wanted to check up on him, they did it personally.

"Yes, Archangel Gabriel, that is my name."

Evidently, no more was forthcoming, and Aziraphale adjusted his grip on the telephone. As his corporation came back into feeling, he realized that he was shaking. "What is the meaning of this"? Aziraphale asked, trying for all the world to harden his tone, but knowing he came off as weak and soft as he ever had. "I thought we had an agreement that I would be left alone."

"Yes, Aziraphale, exactly right. None of us will interfere with you. As things are now, heaven won't touch you." Gabriel's strangely chipper cadence gained a new edge to it. "And isn't that a pickle? An angel, with no connection to heaven."

Again, Aziraphale waited for him to elaborate, but apparently Gabriel was determined to draw this out. "I'm afraid I don't catch your meaning," he admitted.

It seemed that that acknowledgment was all Gabriel wanted. "Well, we've been discussing your"—Aziraphale could hear the sneer in his voice—"situation, and found ourselves pretty confused, all things considered! You have obviously been corrupted, deeply, deeply corrupted, and yet," this time it's confusion that Aziraphale hears, the utter bafflement of it almost… innocent. "You haven't Fallen."

"Ah." Aziraphale swallows. "I suppose I haven't."

Gabriel was back to cocksure, the innocence purged. "So, like I said, we were talking about it, and the only thing that makes sense is that you've been affected by an overabundance of demonic influence. And no wonder!" His laugh grated Aziraphale's ear. "You've been stationed down there for what, 6,000 years, give or take a few decades? Not that we had any way of knowing, of course, that your adversary had successfully tempted you into some sort of arrangement, or we would've pulled you millenia ago for some recuperation."

They were trying to blame Crowley. Of course they would. "Now, Gabriel, I—"

The archangel interrupted him. "Don't you see what this means, Aziraphale?" he asked, as sunny as ever. For a moment, it seemed as if he was waiting for a response again, but maybe it was just a dramatic pause. "It means there's still hope!"

"Hope?" Aziraphale was a great proponent of hope, generally, but the word felt like ash in his mouth. "Hope for what, exactly?"

Gabriel, with exaggerated patience, explained, "Hope that you might return to the fold. Return to the Host, Aziraphale. Like I said, you've been gone for too long. Michael wasn't a fan of the idea, but I'm fairly certain that if you spend a few thousand years in quiet contemplation, bathing in heavenly light, you'll be able to purge yourself of all of that, ugh, unpleasantness."

Fear's grip on Aziraphale had tightened, and it felt like it was constricting the muscle in his chest. "You can't take me, you can't, we had a deal—"

"Calm down, of course not," Gabriel said, amused. "We won't do anything against your will. Aren't you the one who always said that it means more if they choose, on their own, whether to be saved or damned? So," the silence on the line stretched for only a moment, and then, "I'm offering you a choice."

"What does that entail?" Aziraphale felt cold now.

"Well, it was difficult to set up, I'll tell you that much. We don't normally do this manually, but we found some old files on the process. I guess you could call it a bit drastic, but, drastic times, and all that."

"Spit it out, Gabriel." Aziraphale wasn't quite sure where that came from. He was no longer feeling like a present part of the conversation.

Gabriel let out a short, aggravated hum. "Alright, here it is. Heaven's ultimatum for the Principality Aziraphale. You've allowed your angelic essence to be tainted by associating with the demon, Crowley. We are offering a chance for you to return, willingly, of course, and purify your essence. However," he says, and he wields the condition like a knife, "should you reject Heaven's forgiveness and generosity, and continue perversely consorting with our enemy, we will have to," Gabriel hummed again, but this one was pleased, self-righteous, "cut you off, so to speak."

"You mean—"

"Yes, Aziraphale. There aren't bad angels. It's antithetical to what we are. We found the files on the manual process, and we'll do it, to keep the Host pure. You'll be damned."

Aziraphale closed his eyes. Breathed in. Breathed out. "You're saying that I must choose between Heaven and Crowley, under the threat of Falling."

"Yes." And wasn't Gabriel proud of himself, for his clever solution to their little problem. Neatly smudge away the black spot on his record in one move. Checkmate, no options for escape.

Aziraphale, finally, felt calm. "Ah. Well. I choose him."

"What?"

Annoyance crept into his voice. "I choose him, Gabriel. I thought that should be rather obvious. I chose him, and the Earth, over you and your organization already. Remember that? It was rather a big to-do. Does Armageddon ring any bells?"

Gabriel's tone was pricked with discomfort, but firm. "My threats are not idle, Aziraphale. Every moment you spend with him will draw you further from the Almighty's Grace. The contract has been drawn up and sealed. You will not be allowed to continue in this manner."

"And yet, I plan on doing exactly that. If there isn't anything else, I'll be going now."

A few flustered noises, the likes of which Aziraphale had never imagined an archangel making, came over the phone line. Then Gabriel seethed, "Fine. Enjoy your Fall from Grace, freak." The call ended.

Gabriel had never expected Aziraphale to even consider option two, that was obvious enough. It was merely coercion, to get Aziraphale to do what they wanted, which was to sit down, shut up, and become the perfect little soldier that would go along with it the next time they tried ending the world in glorious battle. Bugger that. Aziraphale was his own ethereal being, and he would make his own decisions.

Well. Not "ethereal" for much longer, it didn't seem. Aziraphale refused to let himself be afraid, and so he wasn't. He wasn't.

And there wasn't any reason to be. Everything was perfectly fine. A couple of days later, Crowley really did call, and even if Aziraphale could hardly bring himself to pick up the phone, he made it before it rang out. Crowley had tickets to an outdoors theatre, and oh, wouldn't that be lovely? The evenings were just getting warm enough, the sun lingering in the sky, and they'd sit or stand and watch a performance like they had so many times before. Aziraphale agreed readily, and Crowley said he'd pick him up at 6:30.

The first one had shocked him, it really did. He'd yelped aloud in the middle of a soliloquy, and gotten dirty looks from the audience around them. Aziraphale barely noticed, because his wing, his wing, something had happened to it, and the sharp pinprick pain of a burn was giving way to an ache, deep in the bone, traveling all the way up to his back, a celestial insistence that something was wrong, wrong, so very wrong.

"Angel, what's happened? Are you alright?" Crowley was saying quietly, urgently. He was leaning in towards Aziraphale, who was having to fight against the sudden, foolish impulse to take his hand and let the contact ground him. It was light enough for Aziraphale to catch his eyes darting about, scanning for possible threats. His gaze turned back to the angel. "You jumped like something bit you."

"I—" he couldn't finish the statement, didn't know how to. He tried again. "You know, I suppose something must have." Aziraphale chuckled weakly. "How odd, insects generally know better than to bother us. I suppose it just surprised me, that's all."

Aziraphale managed to excuse himself, promising to be right back. He felt Crowley's gaze on his back the entire time he made his way through the crowd.

It was difficult to find a spot with the requisite amount of privacy and space, but Aziraphale managed. He manifested his wings into physical space, and pulled the afflicted one forward to assess the damage.

He had barely touched it when the feather detached, and fell. 

Aziraphale stared at it. Leaned down, picked it up. A single feather. Among thousands. He was holding a scorched secondary. He had felt no relief when it fell, just a harsh continuation of the pain.

He noticed the ugly look of it, the way it had practically calcified rather than burning away, he noticed the smell.

Aziraphale didn't know what Falling was like. Crowley never talked about it. They'd been out of sight of the Host, when they'd undergone their transformations. There was a war, there were half as many angels in the heavens, and then there were creatures below that turned into beings that always seemed familiar but that no one could ever quite recognize.

Apparently, Falling hurt. Aziraphale knew that, at least, before. It was supposed to. It was a punishment, after all. This was the start, the first taste, and Aziraphale didn't care for it much. One feather out of thousands.

Was he the first angel to Fall, since the war? He hadn't heard of it happening to anyone else. Maybe it wasn't supposed to. Maybe God had split up her teams in the Beginning, and didn't care much what they did after that. Wouldn't that be something, all those angels scared into obedience when The Almighty wasn't even keeping score.

Best not to speculate. It was happening. It had started, and now he had to go through with it. He would go through with it, because some things were worth a bit of pain, a bit of risk.

He considered keeping the feather, but it did smell dreadful, and Crowley might notice it and there'd be no way to explain that. He'd have plenty more, later, if he wanted. He shoved the feather in a bin, and returned to the play. He couldn't very well keep his demon waiting. And, if what Gabriel had said was true, if every moment they spent together mattered, then Aziraphale was going to hoard and savor those moments with every atom of his angelic being.

[lenbryant]

(long post from The Atlantic) I’m Running Out of Ways to Explain How Bad This Is

What’s happening in America today is something darker than a misinformation crisis.

Charlie Warzel is a staff writer at The Atlantic and the author of its newsletter Galaxy Brain, about technology, media, and big ideas. He can be reached via email.

October 10, 2024

Updated at 9:43 a.m. ET on October 11, 2024

The truth is, it’s getting harder to describe the extent to which a meaningful percentage of Americans have dissociated from reality. As Hurricane Milton churned across the Gulf of Mexico last night, I saw an onslaught of outright conspiracy theorizing and utter nonsense racking up millions of views across the internet. The posts would be laughable if they weren’t taken by many people as gospel. Among them: Infowars’ Alex Jones, who claimed that Hurricanes Milton and Helene were “weather weapons” unleashed on the East Coast by the U.S. government, and “truth seeker” accounts on X that posted photos of condensation trails in the sky to baselessly allege that the government was “spraying Florida ahead of Hurricane Milton” in order to ensure maximum rainfall, “just like they did over Asheville!”

As Milton made landfall, causing a series of tornados, a verified account on X reposted a TikTok video of a massive funnel cloud with the caption “WHAT IS HAPPENING TO FLORIDA?!” The clip, which was eventually removed but had been viewed 662,000 times as of yesterday evening, turned out to be from a video of a CGI tornado that was originally published months ago. Scrolling through these platforms, watching them fill with false information, harebrained theories, and doctored images—all while panicked residents boarded up their houses, struggled to evacuate, and prayed that their worldly possessions wouldn’t be obliterated overnight—offered a portrait of American discourse almost too bleak to reckon with head-on.

Even in a decade marred by online grifters, shameless politicians, and an alternative right-wing-media complex pushing anti-science fringe theories, the events of the past few weeks stand out for their depravity and nihilism. As two catastrophic storms upended American cities, a patchwork network of influencers and fake-news peddlers have done their best to sow distrust, stoke resentment, and interfere with relief efforts. But this is more than just a misinformation crisis. To watch as real information is overwhelmed by crank theories and public servants battle death threats is to confront two alarming facts: first, that a durable ecosystem exists to ensconce citizens in an alternate reality, and second, that the people consuming and amplifying those lies are not helpless dupes but willing participants.

Read: November will be worse

Some of the lies and obfuscation are politically motivated, such as the claim that FEMA is offering only $750 in total to hurricane victims who have lost their home. (In reality, FEMA offers $750 as immediate “Serious Needs Assistance” to help people get basic supplies such as food and water.) Donald Trump, J. D. Vance, and Fox News have all repeated that lie. Trump also posted (and later deleted) on Truth Social that FEMA money was given to undocumented migrants, which is untrue. Elon Musk, who owns X, claimed—without evidence—that FEMA was “actively blocking shipments and seizing goods and services locally and locking them away to state they are their own. It’s very real and scary how much they have taken control to stop people helping.” That post has been viewed more than 40 million times. Other influencers, such as the Trump sycophant Laura Loomer, have urged their followers to disrupt the disaster agency’s efforts to help hurricane victims. “Do not comply with FEMA,” she posted on X. “This is a matter of survival.”

The result of this fearmongering is what you might expect. Angry, embittered citizens have been harassing government officials in North Carolina, as well as FEMA employees. According to an analysis by the Institute for Strategic Dialogue, an extremism-research group, “Falsehoods around hurricane response have spawned credible threats and incitement to violence directed at the federal government,” including “calls to send militias to face down FEMA.” The study also found that 30 percent of the X posts analyzed by ISD “contained overt antisemitic hate, including abuse directed at public officials such as the Mayor of Asheville, North Carolina; the FEMA Director of Public Affairs; and the Secretary of the Department of Homeland Security.” The posts received a collective 17.1 million views as of October 7.

Online, first responders are pleading with residents, asking for their help to combat the flood of lies and conspiracy theories. FEMA Administrator Deanne Criswell said that the volume of misinformation could hamper relief efforts. “If it creates so much fear that my staff doesn’t want to go out in the field, then we’re not going to be in a position where we can help people,” she said in a news conference on Tuesday. In Pensacola, North Carolina, Assistant Fire Chief Bradley Boone vented his frustrations on Facebook: “I’m trying to rescue my community,” he said in a livestream. “I ain’t got time. I ain’t got time to chase down every Facebook rumor … We’ve been through enough.”

It is difficult to capture the nihilism of the current moment. The pandemic saw Americans, distrustful of authority, trying to discredit effective vaccines, spreading conspiracy theories, and attacking public-health officials. But what feels novel in the aftermath of this month’s hurricanes is how the people doing the lying aren’t even trying to hide the provenance of their bullshit. Similarly, those sharing the lies are happy to admit that they do not care whether what they’re pushing is real or not. Such was the case last week, when Republican politicians shared an AI-generated viral image of a little girl holding a puppy while supposedly fleeing Helene. Though the image was clearly fake and quickly debunked, some politicians remained defiant. “Y’all, I don’t know where this photo came from and honestly, it doesn’t matter,” Amy Kremer, who represents Georgia on the Republican National Committee, wrote after sharing the fake image. “I’m leaving it because it is emblematic of the trauma and pain people are living through right now.”

Kremer wasn’t alone. The journalist Parker Molloy compiled screenshots of people “acknowledging that this image is AI but still insisting that it’s real on some deeper level”—proof, Molloy noted, that we’re “living in the post-reality.” The technology writer Jason Koebler argued that we’ve entered the “‘Fuck It’ Era” of AI slop and political messaging, with AI-generated images being used to convey whatever partisan message suits the moment, regardless of truth.

This has all been building for more than a decade. On The Colbert Report, back in 2005, Stephen Colbert coined the word truthiness, which he defined as “the belief in what you feel to be true rather than what the facts will support.” This reality-fracturing is the result of an information ecosystem that is dominated by platforms that offer financial and attentional incentives to lie and enrage, and to turn every tragedy and large event into a shameless content-creationopportunity. This collides with a swath of people who would rather live in an alternate reality built on distrust and grievance than change their fundamental beliefs about the world. But the misinformation crisis is not always what we think it is.

Read: Florida’s risky bet

So much of the conversation around misinformation suggests that its primary job is to persuade. But as Michael Caulfield, an information researcher at the University of Washington, has argued, “The primary use of ‘misinformation’ is not to change the beliefs of other people at all. Instead, the vast majority of misinformation is offered as a service for people to maintain their beliefs in face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.” This distinction is important, in part because it assigns agency to those who consume and share obviously fake information. What is clear from comments such as Kremer’s is that she is not a dupe; although she may come off as deeply incurious and shameless, she is publicly admitting to being an active participant in the far right’s world-building project, where feel is always greater than real.

What we’re witnessing online during and in the aftermath of these hurricanes is a group of people desperate to protect the dark, fictitious world they’ve built. Rather than deal with the realities of a warming planet hurling once-in-a-generation storms at them every few weeks, they’d rather malign and threaten meteorologists, who, in their minds, are “nothing but a trained subversive liar programmed to spew stupid shit to support the global warming bullshit,” as one X user put it. It is a strategy designed to silence voices of reason, because those voices threaten to expose the cracks in their current worldview. But their efforts are doomed, futile. As one dispirited meteorologist wrote on X this week, “Murdering meteorologists won’t stop hurricanes.” She followed with: “I can’t believe I just had to type that.”

What is clear is that a new framework is needed to describe this fracturing. Misinformation is too technical, too freighted, and, after almost a decade of Trump, too political. Nor does it explain what is really happening, which is nothing less than a cultural assault on any person or institution that operates in reality. If you are a weatherperson, you’re a target. The same goes for journalists, election workers, scientists, doctors, and first responders. These jobs are different, but the thing they share is that they all must attend to and describe the world as it is. This makes them dangerous to people who cannot abide by the agonizing constraints of reality, as well as those who have financial and political interests in keeping up the charade.

In one sense, these attacks—and their increased desperation—make sense. The world feels dark; for many people, it’s tempting to meet that with a retreat into the delusion that they’ve got everything figured out, that the powers that be have conspired against them directly. But in turning away, they exacerbate a crisis that has characterized the Trump era, one that will reverberate to Election Day and beyond. Americans are divided not just by political beliefs but by whether they believe in a shared reality—or desire one at all.

This article previously stated that Bradley Boone is the assistant fire chief in Pensacola, Florida. In fact, he is based in Pensacola, North Carolina.

[wovenintosilk]

Hii, hope you're doing well!❤ I'm here to ask for a request (if they are open, if not, just ignore this) for Miles (both the spiderman and the prowler). Okay so, the reader (can be female or gn) is best friend with both Mileses(idk how to write names in English in plural, sorry) and in the Earth 42! Miles' (the prowler) she/they died (how optimistic) before he became prowler but, in Spiderman! Miles' universe she's/they're alive. 42!Miles is in love with her/them and very sad 'cause she's/they're dead. The Spiderman! Miles is not in love with them since he met Gwen and fell in love with her. Also, the reader is super - duper smart and she/they help(s) the Spider Society sometimes with technology and etc for money, but it's not a spider person themselves. So, when Miles Spiderman goes to the wrong universe , the reader also goes there and when Miles (spider) wakes up, she wakes up also tied to a beating thing(idk what's it's name) and she's like "Nah, idk, I can't do pretty much without my tech and you took it" and just chill and calm, not caring pretty much about the situation since she/they can't change it (and if u can, please insert a word fight between Miles the prowler and the other Miles, where the prowler is like "She's a very good person, they did so much for both us, and is alive in your universe and still you choose to fall in love with a person who you may not even see again tomorrow and weren't there for you in your worst time?" And the spidey just tries to convince the prowler to let him go to his universe to save his dad) Thanks and sorry for a request this long 😭(and sorry if u didn't understand something, English isn't my first language) ❤❤

CW: References to Death

F!Reader (Use of She/Her Pronouns)

Word Count: 1300

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

A haze hung heavily over your eyes, clouded your vision as you tried to wake up and ignore the harsh throbbing at the back of your skull. Had you hit your head on something? You couldn’t even remember what had happened…

You followed Miles home. What he wanted to do had been dangerous and risky and could destroy everything both of you knew.

But it was Miles. All the times he’d had your back, both in and out of this dimension… you couldn’t leave him to fight this kind of battle by himself. After stepping through the portal, you’d only had a short period when you could look around before something hit you.

You flexed your fingers, surprised to find your arms restrained.

Alright. Damage control then. You could feel the leather pressing against your back so that must mean you weren’t tied to a wall or anything like that. A little shuffling revealed that it was movable to maybe a punching bag?

Which meant you should be able to rotate a little if you just adjusted your weight and… there.

The punching bag swung around as you slowly came to see two expressions staring at you – one panicked and uncertain while the other appeared an uncertain mix of neutral and confident.

But both versions were the same person. Miles.

And they both seemed very surprised you’d woken up.

“I didn’t think I would see you here,” you said, forcing your voice to work so you could croak out something and break the silence. “Uh… either of you, I suppose.”

Quick thinking made you aware of a few small problems with your current predicament. Perhaps largest of which you could see in the purple lighting surrounding you. The lair of the prowler and given the clothing choices of the new Miles, one you might know better than you wanted to.

“She’s alive.”

It was said so simply. Without question or thought. Yet it hit like a punch into your stomach as the implications of the words dug much deeper than you expected.

“Am I not meant to be?”

The Miles you didn’t know, shrouded in darkness and purplish-green hues stepped forward to get a clearer look at you. Something unnatural hung in his expression – it worried you how blankly he watched you. “No,” he eventually said. “No, you’re not meant to be alive in this dimension.”

The twisting feeling in your gut got a thousand times worse as you stared at him. What was that supposed to mean. Had you died here?

“Well,” you said. “I don’t think I’m meant to be dead in my dimension so have no plans to change that.”

“Why did you follow me?”

This time, the question came from the Miles you knew. The one who you’d spent countless hours speaking to. Yet he looked at you as though you’d betrayed him by following him through the portal. Maybe he thought you had.

“Nobody else knows where I came,” you explained. “They… they’re too occupied with everything else to waste time on me.”

“You should have stayed where you were safe,” the new Miles said and you felt like a tennis ball with how much you were being spoken to by both. “This dimension isn’t where you’re meant to be.”

“I didn’t really know that,” you complained. “I don’t routinely look at every dimension and see if I’m alive or not in it. All I did was follow Miles.”

“Then he shouldn’t have let you follow.”

Miles looked rather offended at his counterpart’s comment. “I didn’t even know she was going to do that. How was I meant to stop her if I only found out she followed me a few seconds ago?”

“You should pay better attention.”

You couldn’t help but wince at that, feeling almost validated in your own insecurities regarding the lack of consideration provided by Miles most days. Ever since he learned about the other Spidermen, things had felt somewhat strained between the two of you. After all, you couldn’t swing through the city with him or relate to all the secrecy and experiences of the superheroes.

“I have to get home somehow,” your Miles finally said. “Both of us do, alright? If you let us go, we can help save our dad.”

“Your dad. How is she alive?”

“What?”

The new Miles gestured to you and slowly turned to face Miles. “Did you save her?”

“From what?”

“Then she must not have been with you when it happened. Why? What were you doing instead of spending time with her?”

You were starting to get very confused but something else caught your attention. The build-up of Miles’ electricity, flowing steadily from his touch against the chains. He had a plan to escape from this – if only the other him didn’t notice.

“When did it happen?” you asked. “Maybe I can tell you.”

The date he said meant little to nothing to you. It was fairly recent and if you remembered well enough, you didn’t even see Miles that day. You’d meant to but by the time you arrived, he’d already been long gone with –

“You were with Gwen,” you said and then hurried to add. “She’s another… friend of ours.”

“Another friend from a separate dimension.”

Okay, so there was no getting around that. You nodded slowly, trying not to show how sensitive the topic was. You liked Gwen well enough even though she rarely truly socialised with you.

The new Miles scoffed. “So, he abandoned you for somebody new but I don’t see her here. She didn’t follow him.”

The awkward silence he caused nearly made you wince. Gwen’s betrayal still ran deep in Miles and you knew this topic wasn’t a great choice for right now. Still, you needed to keep speaking to maintain the Prowler’s attention so he wouldn’t notice the escape plan.

“Gwen had other things to deal with,” you told him. “And I wasn’t abandoned.”

“Do you believe that?”

You didn’t. But you weren’t exactly going to turn the attention back onto your Miles right now so you gritted your teeth.

“I’m sorry I died here,” you said.

“Obviously. You weren’t meant to. I tried… I don’t understand how it’s fair that you get to be alive in the dimension where another version of me forgets that you exist. And then you’re sent here and he gets angry at you. Strange.”

A break in the façade of the Prowler. For a second, the emotionlessness changed and you saw an actual response to how you felt.

“I’m not angry,” Miles defended himself. “I just need to get home quickly, alright? This is more important –“

“No, it’s not.”

As though a cruel joke in your favour, you saw a flash of something in the new Miles that you’d always wanted from the one you knew. The look of a person who could have once returned your feelings.

And so, you hesitated in speaking and he turned back to your Miles just as an explosion of electricity sent chain links in every dimension.

For a second, you met his eyes and watched him mouth that he’d be back right before he bolted for one of the windows. Glass shattered everywhere as his counterpart shook his head and bolted after him.

You groaned and rested your head against the punching bag, left alone in a warehouse.

The chains loosened around you and you had only a second to react before you landed on the ground. You winced and rolled your shoulders, turned around to find the last person you ever expected to.

“Come on,” Aaron says. “Boy wouldn’t want you to stay here and wait for him.”

You didn’t know which one he was referring to but without many options, you followed him into a harshly different world to the one you grew up in.

[hyrule-in-a-pokeball]

GANONDORF AND "CALAMITY" GANON: TWO SEPARATE BEINGS

Calamity Ganon, as we know, was more like a primal force of nature, though it did display some level of intelligence with its ability to formulate and execute plans (Spawning the blights and unleashing them, corrupting the Guardians, etc) it wasn't exactly a big brain genius. I mean, come on, it had 10,000 years to plan, and the best it came up with, while effective, was "Uno reverse lol" And with an additional 100 years its plan became "Cyborg time!"

And then just. "Big pig!"

It wasn't a tactical genius. It won because Hyrule was overly reliant on the ancient Sheikah technology to the point that they were helpless against that very technology when it was turned against them.

But what the hell was Calamity ganon? Well, we see it in three, maybe four forms. Pig Cloud

Which Creating a Champion states is a "spirit composed of malice"

Fashion disaster Ganon

An incomplete, slapped together body made of Malice and machinery (Apparently he started building this body when he sensed Link awaken in the chamber of resurrection)

Kaiju Ganon

A body formed of pure malice as a final "screw you though" after his cool new cyborg body was destroyed.

And the fourth body is possibly the malice itself, seeing as he seemed to be hell bent on using it to make his new bodies. It was like clumps of flesh just sort of laying around waiting to be assembled into something.

So now that we know the calamity's 3 (or 4) main forms, I want to focus on the pig cloud, because I think that is Calamity Ganon's truest form. The malice is something it created, either intentionally or as a byproduct of simply existing, and its other bodies were things made of that malice.

Now, we know that Calamity Ganon was utterly destroyed at the end of Breath of the wild. It didn't like, return to Dry Ganondorf in the depths. That thing got nuked.

And that means that Ganondorf's consciousness was always in his dry body and not acting through the Calamity. In fact, when Rauru seals him away, he taunts Rauru and says "Thousands of years will pass in the blink of an eye" which to me says he knows he gonna be stuck in that spot for a hot minute.

The Calamity spawned from him, but it was not him. Its almost like a giant, out of control Phantom Ganon thats just sort of up there doing its best. But with Ganondorf sealed away, how did Calamity Ganon get loose? Well, it might seem odd, but I think Majora's mask (the object) can point us in the right direction

Majora's Mask was once just a normal mask. Carved from normal wood. (actually if you look at the renders it looks more like it was carved from stone, but whatever) It wasn't alive, it didn't possess magic powers. It was just a mask. A mask used in ancient hexing rituals. Over time, the negative energies created from those hexing rituals sort of infected the mask and eventually became conscious, with the mask acting as a body. It was a Tulpa that was housed inside the mask. (A tulpa is a concept in mysticism of an object or being that is created through mental or spiritual power. To make it extremely basic: A tulpa is an imaginary friend that stops being imaginary. Actually in that sense, Phantom Ganon is basically a tulpa.)

So, Ganondorf, sealed away, conscious or not, was just seething. Pure hate for Hyrule, for Rauru the first king, and all his descendants. That hate was so pure and intense that it basically manifested as Calamity Ganon. The pig cloud. A separate entity born of Ganondorf's sheer spite and hate.

And if you need further proof that they are not the same entity, we need only look to Ganondorf's profile in Tears of the Kingdom, unlocked after completing the game.

Ganondorf had been slowly working on his revival for 100 years INDEPENDENTLY of Calamity Ganon. Link and Zelda just pulled a "wrong place/wrong time" when they found him at the exact moment the seal finally weakened enough to break.

Man what would Ganondorf have done if he broke out of his seal like 5 or 8 years earlier, made his way to the surface, and found pig cloud ganon just up there partying?