#all that work with learning genetics and all i know is that becoming completely different organism is not possible so whats even the point

[gil-notskajla]

love reading fics about monster men and inserting myself mentally in the position of monster man sorry im shutting up now

[foressfaction]

Warning: mentions of s*icide and other topics that could be triggering

“My trust in you is like a dog with a broken leg”

Time to yap

Can we just talk about how I think if Toby ever got caught and arrested by the police that he would straight up just let them. His life is so shit and aside from maybe in AUs where he lives with his work partners (Tim and Brian) or with Jack, that he is practically homeless and has been barely scrapping by. Lets just say even in one of those AUs he’d surrender due to pure panic cause being held at gun point would probably freak bro the fuck out and he’d have no possible choice. Now of course he’d put up a good chase but maybe in a situation the authorities just run into him. He’d just let it happen.

I’d feel the police would know who he is even after the years. I don’t think he’d look much different other than the changes that are inevitable. I feel they’d be gentle. Though yes. He killed people, has weapons. But by then they learned the story, I just think they’d be gentle. He would have a look of pure fear for once other than what goes on in his head. All he knows is fear, anger, guilt. I think that would be very prominent in his arrest.

He doesn’t know his rights, he doesn’t know how to comply, just lets his body be escorted and almost dragged away into what ever vehicle they would transport him.

In court his mom who still lived would face him for the first time in years after thinking both of her kids were dead. What she saw of her brutally murdered ex husbands body still haunted her. And probably wouldn’t leave her mind upon first glance at her son. She sees him as a killer, but certainly not a monster. Tears would stream but her face would stay blank. Her black mascara running down her pale skin.

Her hair has grown longer and put up in a neat bun, some loose strands from the family’s genetic frizzy hair.

She’d lay eyes on her son that had gone missing all those years ago after such a traumatic event. She knew him better than anyone.

But Toby… he wouldn’t even know who she is. He would have this gut wrenching feeling something was off, everytime he would look at her, like he was supose to know something, feel something. But nothing.

I feel like the court would consist of questions, ones that would only be answered by the sweet sound of silence and head tilt downwards. Obviously he didn’t remember his past. But they would ask so much about it. About Lyra, about the fire, his home life. They probably would mention that his mom is in the room, and ask what she thinks.

She wouldn’t respond sometimes, still in complete numbness and shock that her son was not only alive, but had been homeless and taking more lives of the innocent. At first it was a case of escaping abuse, but there was something far more sinister going on as well.

He looks so much older than what she remembers. So worn out looking and exhausted. His eyes were so dark. She’d recall. So lifeless. Deep down she loved him dearly and wanted nothing bad to happen to him. But that was not up to her. He was a murderer.

I feel there would be a moment where they’d touch hands. He would be shaken up, just like when he was little. But he was so different at the same time. To him this was just some ordinary woman. She also looked so different. He wouldn’t even be able to form words, as that feeling of belonging forced itself to so badly be seen.

Connie would watch her son die. Not by body, but by soul. As he would be sentenced to life in a phych ward. Where there he would be treated like a dog at a pound, a prisoner of multiple first degree murder charges. Including the one of his father.

And in that cell block, behind those bars. He would slowly but surely lose his mind and become inhuman, unresponsive. A living life sized dog that would snap at any hand.

There however, he considered himself free. Even if the torture of the facility progressed, the Operator couldn’t reach him here. A feeling he longed for. But was it really worth it.

Toby dies in this place at the age of 31 due to starving himself as a form of s*uicide. His grief practically killed him and the staff let it happen.

It was all rumored to have been on purpose but it’s still a mystery on what happened to him those years ago. The answer would be unbelievable to most. Which is why he ended up here in the first place. He is so unbelievably ill.

[mspopstar]

okay how the fuck is sectiona muchless haltmann alive?

"Hehehee! That was easy! I made a clone using genetic material I found from a collection my father had created a fail-safe measure. Used machinery to artificially speed up senescence in the zygote until he was back to his silver glory compressing sixty years into six months. To ensure any and all possible biological failures associated with the cloning process could never occur, I created some bio-mechanical implants to improve and fix some things. With that, my father was created physically. Mentally? He was a husk. Using as much data as I could find, scanning journals of his, emails, and phone calls and more I created an artificial intelligence that functions about 96.7% close to the original! My new father's existence now resides in the creation of several thousand server units in a warehouse at a undisclosed location!"

-Susie P. Haltmann

"My, now that's a query! Bringing her excellence back was no easy feat! I near lost my head in the process. The physical preparations were important, after all, without a body there's no vessel for her to even exist. I used necromancy to recreate her graces' body, or, what was left of her body. As you know, a body with no soul will decay quickly. With magics I preserved her physical elegance temporarily to use as a temporary vessel for what would become her. Next were the spiritual preparations. Horrifyingly, I had learned that Sectonia's hobby for cosmetic and physical glamour had completely fractured her soul in so many pieces, mashing them with others. The ritual to resurrect one spiritually requires a whole soul, not one that's been mixed with so many different colors and speckled to nonrecognition. I did what I could and using a process referred to as alchemic memory based soul creation, creating a soul from ones memory, to fill in the gaps that were missing. It's not perfect but it is satisfactory. They say that the dead lives on through the memory of others, and there's a truth to that! With Queen Sectonia back in the temporary vessel, I needed to do one final ritual to ensure her grace would live healthy for a long time. After all, her original body was beyond repair, parts of her were missing and the ones that were not missing weren't even hers! With a virgin, as the ritual will not work otherwise, I had swapped her soul with Sectonia's soul. I destroyed both Sectonia's original resurrected body (this brought me to tears.) with that street urchin's soul infecting it. Finally, I used some transformation magic to turn the sacrificial body into Queen Sectonia in her former glory. With that, I have her back in my life again. The healing process will take some time, but that is fine. I will wait for her majesty as long as she needs me to."

-Queen Sectonia's Royal Advisor, Taranza

"They both terrify me."

-Meta Knight and King Dedede

[entropicbias]

do you think people need to be at least naturally good at something to ever become great at it or to ever create something of worth. like even if they work hard at it forever they just cant do it

here's some doodles of jade before i answer this question. uh, no. this is a shitty way to think! i mean, sure people can be naturally good at things and it gives you a leg up, but thinking you can't achieve something because you weren't born perfectly good at it is not a good mindset.

i mentioned how i am a practicing cardist, but i have quite small hands. now, if you don't know, that's like a huge genetic disadvantage when it comes to cardistry, cause i have a lot of struggles performing one hand shuffles like the thumb cut or the revolution cut. basic moves that i just struggle so hard to execute. but, and if you're in the cardistry space you'd know that people are very heavy on the fact that you can overcome the issue with practice and determination.

unless you're being judged competitively at magic olympics, cardistry and magic isn't all about how "correct" you execute a trick, it's about the performance! so if you can find workarounds, and there are always gonna be some workarounds, then you can totally shit out a decent trick! magic is a spectacle, the value comes in how you present it, and the attitude you have presenting it. you don't have to be on houdini's level, sometimes just being a shitty ladbible skit is honestly good enough. there's a beauty to being crap at things as much as there is being good at things. or being just decently good. and it's similar to comedy in a way too.

there are so many people in this world that will hate you or love you no matter how good or bad you are at something. as long as you have the can-do attitude, you can do whatever you want. i saw this image earlier about progress, and how progress is different for everybody. you can have slow progress, quick progress, or it can vary from slow to quick. and the rate at which you progress can also be different for everybody or different things you try to learn. but it can never halt completely unless you give up in yourself.

so, don't! when i was growing up, i saw this one video of a girl three years younger than me painting beautiful intricate anatomically correct portraits of jesus from age 3 and i looked at my shitty undertale art and thought "holy shit i'm fucking ass" but did that ever stop me from drawing? no! and honestly, i have not improved much since! but i love to draw, and even though my friends are better and much faster than it than me, i still love to do it!

anyways, thanks for the ask, even if it might be a spam ask cause i've been getting those quite a lot.

[fozmeadows]

As someone who hasn't read the works of radical feminists like Simone de Beauvoir, could you explain what's wrong and what bothers you about biological essentialism? I'm curious about your opinion after reading your post on radfems (and I'd like a perspective that isn't so based on biological gender essentialism, which I honestly have a hard time moving away from because I don't understand other perspectives well). 👀

The problem with biological essentialism is that purports to answer the eternally unanswered question of nature vs nurture in a wholly one-dimensional way - ie, with biological sex as The Single Most Important Aspect Of Personhood, regardless of any other considerations - while simultaneously ignoring the fact that biological sex is not, in fact, a binary proposition. We've learned in recent decades, for instance, that intersex conditions are much more common and wide-ranging than previously thought, not because scientists have arbitrarily changed the definitions of what counts as an intersex condition, but because our understanding of hormones, chromosomes, karyotpying and other physical permutations has expanded sufficiently to merit the shift. So right away, the idea that humanity is composed of Biological Men and Biological Women with absolutely no ambiguities, overlap or middle ground simply isn't true. Inevitably, though, if you mention this, people with a vested interest in biological essentialism become immediately defensive. They'll start saying things like, oh, but that's only a tiny minority of the population, they're outliers, they don't count, as though their argument doesn't derive its claim to authority from a presumed universality. To use a well-worn example, redheads are also a tiny minority of the population, but that doesn't mean we exclude them when talking about the range of natural human hair colours. But the fact is, even if humans lacked chromosomal diversity beyond XX/XY; even if there were no cases of cis men with internal ovaries or cis women with internal testes or people with ambiguous genitalia - and let's be clear: all of these things exist - the fact is, our individual hormones are in flux throughout our lives.

There are standard ranges for estrogen and testosterone in men and women (which, again, vary according to age and some other factors), but two cis men of the same age and background could still have completely different T-counts, for instance - meaning, even the supposed universal gender factor isn't universal at all. More, while our hormones certainly play a major role in our moods and cognition, so do a ton of other genetic and bodily factors that have nothing to do with the sex we're assigned at birth - and on top of that, there's nurture: the cultural contexts in which we're raised, plus our more individual experiences of living in the world. One of the most common, everyday (and yet completely bullshit) permutations of biological essentialism comes when parents or would-be parents talk about their reasons for wanting a son or a daughter. Very often, there's a strong play to stereotypical assumptions about shared interests and personalities: I want a son to play football with me, for instance, or: I want a daughter to be my shopping buddy. But even within the most mainstream channels of cishet culture, it's understood that these hopes are not, in fact, grounded in any sort of biological certainty. The dad who wants a sporty son might be just as likely to end up with a bookworm, while the mother who wants a little princess might find herself with a tomboy. We know this, and our stories know this! For the entirety of human history - for as long as we've been writing about ourselves - we have records of parental disappointment in the failure of this child or that to embody what's expected of them, gender-wise. More than that: if biological essentialism was real - if men were only and ever One Type Of Man, and women were only and ever One Type Of Woman, with recent progressive moments the sole anonymous blip in an otherwise uniform historical standard - then why is there so much disparity and disagreement throughout human history as to what those roles are? The general conception of women espoused in medieval France is thoroughly different to that espoused in pre-colonial Malawi, for instance, and yet we're meant to believe that there's some innate Gender Template guiding all human beings to behave in accordance with a set, immutable biological binary? And that's before you factor in the broad and fascinating history of trans and nonbinary people throughout history - because despite what TERFs and conservative alarmists have to say on the matter, our records of trans people, and of societies in which various trans and nonbinary identities were widely understood (if not always accepted), are ancient. We know about trans priestesses from thousands of years before Christ; the Talmud has terms describing eight different genders, and those are just two examples. All over the world, all throughout history, different cultures have developed radically different concepts of femininity and masculinity, to say nothing of designations outside of, overlapping with or in between those categories - socially, legally, behaviourally, sexually - and yet we're meant to believe that biology is at all times nudging us towards a set, ideal gender template? There's a lot more I could say, but ultimately, the point is this: people are different. While some aspects of our personhood are inevitably influenced by genetics, hormones, chromosomes and other biological factors, we're also creatures of culture and change and interpersonal experience. The idea that men and women are fundamentally different, even diametrically opposed, at a biological level - that the major separator in terms of our personalities and interests isn't culture, upbringing and personal taste, but what's between our legs - is just... so reductive, and so inaccurate.

We can absolutely have common experiences on the basis of a shared gender, but gender is not the only possible axis of commonality between two people, let alone the most salient one at all times, and the idea that we're all born on one side of an immutable biological equation that cannot possibly be transcended makes me feel insane. According to modern biological essentialism, intersex, trans and nonbinary people are either monstrous, mistakes or imaginary; all men are fundamentally predisposed to violence, all women are designed for motherhood, and we're meant to just hew to our designated places - which, conveniently, tend to echo a very specific form of Christian ideology, but which in any case manifestly fail to account for how variedly gender has been presented throughout history. It's nuts.

[pooks]

alright, thanks to some good One Piece fanfics, i got Ichiji brainrot and here's an AU i have in mind

never expected that to happen, so i blame the good OP fanfiction writers. you know who you are and keep up the good work

it basically begins like this...

Germa 66 (but before Sora dies)

Ichiji gets the first of his modification surgeries, which happens to be his eyes (it's meant to enhance his sight and develop further modifications). being temporarily blinded, Ichiji gets the wrong room and meets his mother in the medical ward.

here's the thing; Ichiji has emotions, but he can't express them and he got an excellent poker face so Judge never suspected anything. also, Ichiji is extremely mature so he knows that displaying emotions is a very Bad™ idea

anyhow, since he's blinded and can't train/study as he usually do, he's allowed to meet with Sora until his eyes has healed. Sora is overjoyed to spend time with another of her children (only Sanji comes to see her frequently).

during the time Ichiji learns to know his mother, he also starts to notice difference between right and wrong. it doesn't take him long to realize how absolutely toxic and fucked up this situation is. he knows that as the firstborn son, he's the next in line for the throne and will one day rule over Germa. he doesn't want to and he's jealous of Sanji who will never have that burden.

Sora becomes his safe zone, even if he can't see her. Ichiji also discovers that he loves knowledge, he enjoys listening/reading about everything. he notes that there is little to no archived recollections of Gold Roger's adventures on the Grand Line and Ichiji dreams of sailing to the Grand Line and write about all the adventures he'd experience.

Ichiji is also a realist and knows this dream is nothing else than a dream that'll never come true.

after his eyes are healed, Ichiji can't go to see Sora again and his training is intensified because he's "the heir". Ichiji still tries to see his mother in secret, during the middle of night when no one else is awake. meanwhile, he isn't exactly "cruelly bullying" Sanji, but his words are very harsh and cold. he does this because he wants Sanji to open his eyes and understand their duty. their lives are not "fun and games" and Sanji needs to grow up. (classic frustrated older brother attitude)

then Sora dies and everything goes to hell. the last words Ichiji exchanges with Sanji is his pentup frustration that Sanji still hasn't learnt his lesson; that he "needs to grow the hell up". Ichiji also says things he didn't intent to, such as Sanji is so lucky that he doesn't have to inherit the throne, being forced to be perfect and he has still the freedom to leave Germa as he pleases, unlike him.

then Sanji doesn't turn up for several days and the next thing Ichiji knows, his little brother is suddenly declared dead to the kingdom.

Ichiji, in a rare moment of impulsivity, waits until after the "funeral service" to demand answers from Judge and his mind snaps when he called Sanji a failure, a burden and especially the words "a stone around your neck". Ichiji attacks Judge without thinking and he's defeated within seconds. and his left eye got burnt by firepower

Ichiji is then subjected to a series of unethical medical experiments (he's too proud to ever admit this, but they were so horrofic and painful that Ichiji screamed for his mother). His eye is fine, still functional but the scar he got will remain for the rest of his life. Judge says it will remind him to never try to defy him.

Ichiji, being completely resigned to his fate, makes a deal with Judge (at this point, he has all but officially denied Judge as his father); he promises to endure the "Training of Hell" to become his perfect soldier project and when his genetic modifications is 100% complete and in return, Judge won't let Sanji become harmed or starve to death in his prison and when Ichiji becomes of age, Judge (who, of course, doesn't intend on honoring his promise) will release Sanji from his prison and let him go.

he endures daily experiments along with extreme training for six months.

Reiju, who has been on the sidelines and watched everything unravelling has conflicting thoughts about this development. she is happy that Ichiji has human emotions, but also saddened over how willing Ichiji is to suffer for Sanji's sake. she watched her first little brother endure a training that's worse than torture and she knows that Judge doesn't intend to keep his promise.

(fyi, Niji and Yonji are still the same. but they are confused why Ichiji is now seperated and isolated from them.)

when Germa 66 invades the island Cozia in the East Blue, Reiju frees Sanji, like in canon. while she tells Sanji to get the key to his iron mask, Reiju frees Ichiji from his confinement in his private quarters (the windows and the door are locked from the outside). Reiju tells Ichiji that if he wants to escape and become free, this is his only chance and he won't get another one.

they meet with Sanji outside and Reiju tells them to run away, to never look back. Ichiji takes Sanji's hand and runs towards a ship, the Orbit. he doesn't look back and he doesn't cry, unlike Sanji.

(end. part 1)

[sophieinwonderland]

So, singlet here, been on tumblr for a while but only started to join plural spaces when a friend told me they were plural and now I am trying to learn more. Sadly, the first plural creator I found was Aspen and now I’m trying to unlearn all the endo hate I’ve learned in the past month. If you don’t mind, could you tell me what an endo actually is? Whenever I asked them they just told me what I now know to be lies.

Sure! Thanks for reaching out and being open-minded!

In its most simple form, an endogenic system is a system who is plural for reasons other than trauma.

These include created systems, systems who have been plural as long as they can remember, and spontaneous systems who become plural without explanation. And any of these can have spiritual or psychological views on their system. The plural umbrella is inclusive to any plurals regardless of origin.

Here is what we know:

Plurality is old and everywhere: Throughout history, in cultures around the globe, plurality has existed in the form of possession states or communing with spirits or similar phenomena.

Many of the above experiences have been studied, and psychiatrists agree that they generally aren't aversive and shouldn't be considered a mental disorder. There are specific exceptions carved out stating that non-aversive plurality shouldn't be diagnosed as a disorder.

The invention of the internet and ability to connect with other plurals without fear of persecution led to the creation of the first inclusive plural communities online, shared by anyone who was multiple in one body for any reason.

At the time, the term "natural multiples" was used to refer to what we now call endogenic systems. The community replaced the term with "endogenic" around 2014.

Most of the resources used by the modern plural community came out of the inclusive side of the community. "Headmate" was a non-medical alternative to "alter." "Plural" was coined as a non-medical alternative to "multiple" which was associated with "multiple personality disorder" at the time. Fictives and factives both date back to the soulbonder community. And resources like Pluralkit and Simply Plural were made by endos.

What we don't know:

Scientific research into endogenic systems is still in its infancy. And though it indisputably exists, we don't know exactly what causes it... but we also don't know what causes someone to be a singlet...

Our brain is estimated to have 86 billion neurons with over 100 trillion synapses. We don’t understand what make all of these create one single personality.

The theory of structural dissociation suggests that children start with a less integrated personality that integrates over time. But that opens the door to ask, does this integration occur naturally due to biological factors, or is it from sociological and environmental pressure?

It seems possible to me that different environments or genetic factors could lead to certain humans just integrating into multiple people instead of one. This would explain systems who report being plural since birth.

For created systems, one hypothesis could be that it might involve a form of hypnosis. Some doctors have long believed hypnosis might involve dissociated parts, and Dr Samuel Veisseire and Michael Lifshitz, who have studied tulpamancy closely, believe the practices tulpamancers use to create tulpas might be inherently hypnotic.

Stanford University is doing a neurological study into tulpamancers, and I'm excited to see the results of that, but we aren't sure when that study is going to be complete. And that's likely just the first of many, and though it will be another piece of the puzzle, it certainly won't answer our most pressing questions for how this works. But I, for one, can't wait to learn more! 😁

[misc-obeyme]

I'm always brain rotting about really silly things like food, fashion, and transportation in the devildom compared to the human world. world building i suppose?

but how do you think the spice levels compare? like there's different types of spicy, and the devildom for sure has spicier stuff. But i wonder how spicy it is. Like Mammon's hell sauce noodles...

I'm thinking about this because my mom cooked dinner, and she always makes separate food for me and my little brothers if she's using chiles (in this case it was just meat cooked without the spicy sauce). and i tried some because I'm trying to finally build my tolerance and I was dying at the first bite 😭 tastes so good though. she gave me a surprised look when i added more spicy food to my plate

i already know mammon would make me try spicy things for shits and giggles, or new foods because I'm a picky eater. Also there's a saying/joke in Spanish where people will ask if you were angry while making something if it's too spicy lmao.

I haven't been too active because I've been busy working early shifts and training in framing at my old store (forgot to set my alarms the last two days), but tomorrow I'm off, and going to ihop and bookstores with my friend !! she's trying to finish her current read so we can buddy read King of Wrath together (king of sloth comes out soon). I'M SO EXICTED

Anyway i hope you're having a good day/night, and I'm very excited for the anniversary banner. May everyone's boys come home 🙏

- ✨ anon

Ohhh yessss I love worldbuilding! And there's so much they leave out, there's plenty of stuff we can fill in, which is always fun.

Okay so spice levels, apparently it really depends on the individual as to how spicy something truly is. This is because humans at least have the ability to make themselves less sensitive to capsaicinoids, which is what they call plants with capsaicin in them. That's the spicy, I think they evolved with it to prevent predators from eating them, but humans were like nope we'll just get used to it!

Anyway, I think this is relevant because it's going to depend on whether or not demons also have that ability or if it's different for them biologically. Like okay, if humans eat enough capsaicin, over time they become partly immune to it, which is why some people can eat really spicy food and other people can't. I think some of that might also just be genetics... like some people might be born more resilient to it to begin with. But don't quote me on that lol.

So demons either have a natural immunity (not completely though because they clearly can still taste the spice, it's just much less) or they also have the ability to desensitize themselves to it.

I like to think it's a bit of both just like it is in humans, but demons have a higher tolerance level to start with. And they all have it. Because they're demons and that just feels right, you know?

But I also think it'd be interesting to consider that the tongues of demons are made of different stuff than the tongues of humans. Or that there are some demons who have tongues that are more scaly or something. Just because that'd be fun lol.

Anyway, I think the spice levels in the Devildom are probably pretty high. I like to think that Mammon has an especially high tolerance due to the fact that those spicy hell sauce noodles are his favorite. You know he eats them all the time and if they can also build tolerance, he must be super used to it by now.

I definitely think he'd make you eat spicy food lol. That's just how spicy food lover are, too. I'm also extremely sensitive to spicy foods. I've been trying to build up my tolerance, too, so I've been adding some hot sauce to things, but it's nothing compared to my brother in law. His spice tolerance is insane. And he's always like, here try this it's not spicy. I have learned not to believe it.

I love the idea that being angry while cooking makes food spicy.... I feel like there could legit be a spell for that in the Devildom, too.

There you go working all kinds of crazy shifts again... truly Mammon coded lol. I hope you had an amazing day off and enjoyed your time with your friend!! I looove bookstores and pancakes, so that sounds like an excellent time!

I hope you're having a lovely day/night as well! And YES I too am quite excited about the HDD~ spreading all the love & luck to all to get their faves~

[sarahowritesostucky]

im craving some steve/bucky/reader!

will you ever add to Worth The Wait? pleeese??🌷or maybe write a mfm fic that's set in the mcu? I'm dying for a good stucky/reader endgame fix it, and you write the best m/f sex scenes! 😳

Hi! I will add to Worth the Wait, one day. I have a lot of rotating projects and I'll admit that one isn't at the top of the list.

And I was brainstorming some kind of Endgame fix-it fic idea with an ofc/reader x Stucky pairing, and here's what I came up with:

I wanted to write a fic with more canon elements of the MCU (as I realized that I write very few canon-set fics and almost exclusively AUs). I wanted to write an ofc/reader with a super unique backstory, and hoo-boy, did I ever! I took a lot of inspiration from the galaxy as depicted in the Guardians of the Galaxy movies. This fic will be posted as a one-shot fic, whenever I get around to writing it.

A Stucky x Reader fic, set in the MCU during and after the events of Endgame:

Reader is from another planet - yes, literally.

You're a refugee from a planet that didn't want you (The Sovereign--Aka "the gold people" from Guardians 2.)

Long story short, those people disdain sexual (aka uncontrolled) reproduction. Your Mother was banished for becoming naturally pregnant by an inferior genetic (a Xandarian)

You have mixed genes: slightly gold skin from your Sovereign genes, and blue eyes and brown hair from your Xandarian father. (And since the Sovereign control reproduction strictly, there are no other mixed race Sovereign people like you in existance)

You narrowly escape Thanos' destruction of Xandar, and wind up hitching a ride, post-blip, with Nebula and rocket on the Milano. They take you to Terra to meet their friends after completing one of their post-blip scouting missions.

There you meet Steve, a Terran, and the two of you become friends. He suggests that you consider staying, as you have no real homeworld. You accept.

Eventually, you develop romantic feelings for each other. You decide to be brave and you walk up to him one day, asking if he wants to mate.

"Uh ... do you mean date?" he stutters. Then when you repeat yourself, the two of you proceed to have a long conversation about male-female relationships in Terran culture.

There's a lot to learn about the differences between Terrans and your own kind. For instance: Terrans don't have genders! ("gender" means something completely different on Terra).

Steve has to learn all about what it means for him, as the boyfriend of an omega-gendered woman. (update: he's a fast learner😉)

Steve loves that you're omega. Your nesting and scenting and purring instincts always make him smile. He loves how submissive and touch-focused you are with him, that he can make you melt into a puddle just by gripping your neck.

And he loves your heats. He's fascinated by the way your body changes and the way you start behaving. You can tell it turns him on, to see you getting needy and aroused, and he is very good at helping you through your heat.

He doesn't have a knot, but aside from that part of anatomy, his genitals are a very pleasing size compared to the Xandarian males you've been with in the past. Plus: he has the serum, so he's able to keep pace with the demands of your heat!

When you were at the peak of your heat that first time, half-delirious and begging for a knot, Steve got creative and tried the only thing he could think of: his hand! (fun fact: it's bigger than a knot😉). You now joke that you're a "size queen" in every sense of the word

Your romance with Steve is going well, when Steve and the others figure out a way to potentially reverse the blip: time travel.

You're conflicted, because it's all very dangerous and you're scared of losing Steve and the family and home you've found on Terra. But you know they have to try.

It works. And after the final battle, after you've been scraped out of the wreckage and laid Tony Stark to rest, you finally get to meet the man you've heard so much about: Bucky Barnes.

You can see the change in Steve, with his best friend back. He's happier, lighter, his full self in a way he wasn't before.

Over the course of a few months, you become close friends with Bucky as well. You and Steve don't even have to have a discussion about where Bucky will be staying: It's with you.

The three of you decide to go to Wakanda for a time. You're excited because you hear that the African Terrans' culture is very different from the Terrans in New York.

In Wakanda, you grow even closer with Bucky, and you decide to bring up the idea of partnering with Bucky at dinner one night.

Bucky just about spits his mouthful of wine across the table.

Apparently, three-way relationships are not the norm in Terran culture. Bucky and Steve get very pink in the cheeks at first about it (something you've learned means they are aroused, embarrassed, or both).

Steve splutters and stumbles a lot, but once Bucky shrugs and suggests that the three of you spend a night in bed together, Steve gets very quiet and won't stop looking at Bucky for a long time. (You grin, because you think he looks at Bucky like he want to mate him😉)

Later, after the three of you spend your first (amazing) night together, Bucky privately explains to you that he and Steve have never been intimate before, and that back in "their time" two males weren't allowed to be together like that.

You're astounded by these things about Terran culture and history that you're constantly learning, but you have two very good teachers in your mates boyfriends Bucky and Steve.

Terrans can't bond, but they do hold ceremonies to commit to life partners. So, after a year of living in Wakanda together, you, Steve and Bucky decide to have a "wedding." You are mated married on the palace's grand terrace, under the Wakandan sunset.

That night, you consummate the marriage, and that's the first time that you take both Bucky and Steve inside of your body at the same time. (spoiler: it's amazing😉)

You've already told them about bonding. They don't have glands in their neck like you do, but they've agreed to honor your traditions as well, and they both bite you that night.

You thought it would be purely symbolic, since they're both Terran, but it turns out that Terrans do have pheromones to some degree, and so shockingly, you can feel a euphoric rush when it happens.

You experience that intense closeness and intimacy of a bond with them, and even though it's not the same for them, over time, both Bucky and Steve confide that they feel a change as well.

Maybe it's a bond, and maybe it isn't. Who knows? Who cares? It's love, of that much you're certain. And that's all you need to know.

Yeah, so. This'll get written somewhere down the line. Hope it wasn't too far out there for ya 😆

[lgenvs3000w23]

UNIT 1: Launching into Nature Interpretation

I have had a slightly unorthodox journey to becoming interested in nature, as the concept of studying nature in university has only recently occurred to me. For context, I grew up in the Waterloo Region which is quite a developed urban area; so there was not much opportunity for exploring vast forests or serene lakes. The concept of studying nature in school or even going for a hike wasn't even a thought in my head for the first 19 years of my life. I began university in Biomedical Sciences at a different institution (which was a very intense human-centric program with no biodiversity or environmental biology exposure), but transferred to the University of Guelph during my first year. At UoG, I had to take a required class, BIOL*1070 Discovering Biodiveristy… and boy did I discover biovideristy!

In BIOL*1070, I was lumped in a group with a bunch of biomed kids who HATED the class and just wanted to learn “useful biology,” that’s when I realized I didn't hate the class at all, it was actually my favourite first-year course I had taken! It was the other student’s closed-mindedness that made me realize how important the class was and appreciate the content so much more. I also realized that solely doing biology courses about anatomy, molecular biology, genetics and physiology made me absolutely miserable, and I had this untapped passion for ecology, evolution, environmental biology, and geography. I switched my major to Biological Sciences so I could experience the best of both worlds and have more flexibility to explore this side of biology that I had no exposure to in high school or my first year of university. Unfortunately, I think it is a common experience for students to be pigeonholed toward the medical field and human biology. I am very happy that I was forced to take BIOL*1070, I would never have done it as an elective and I wouldn't be here in ENVS*3000 or have taken half the classes on my transcript.

Additionally, BIOL*1070 also opened doors to new hobbies as I became a frequent hiker and trail runner. In BIOL*1070, we had to go on 5 nature walks for an assignment, which at the time I thought was super annoying and inconvenient but I ended up falling in love with the fresh air and sunshine. Shortly after, I started working full-time in an office and going on daily hikes and runs which absolutely saved my mental and physical health. I am so grateful I discovered this hobby before my work-term because I don't know what I would have done without it! Sitting at a computer in a windowless cubical for 8 hours a day would have driven me insane if I didn't have nature as an outlet. It is hard to believe that just 3 months before my trail obsession I had zero interest in nature. This newfound appreciation for nature has even impacted the vacations I have taken with camping trips and road trips to remote trails. I love exploring Northern Ontario, I am specifically obsessed with Lake Superior.

I thank my professors in BIOL*1070, Dr. Shoshanah Jacobs and Dr. Alex Smith, who made a lasting impression and sparked the nature bug that completely redefined my university experience. These amazing profs opened my eyes to fields of study I have since fallen in love with. I would not have the love of nature I have today with their enthusiasm and delivery of BIOL*1070.

Thanks for reading!! Take care:)

[whump-me]

Obscure: Chapter 8

Chapter 8 of Obscure, novel-length interrogation whump about a rebel leader who can erase memories with a thought, an interrogator who can see inside his subjects’ minds… and the connection they share that neither of them suspects.

Masterpost | the Mind Games universe | Read the completed novel on Patreon

---

Kirill

Between the stubble and the dark circles, Elias looked as bad as Kirill felt. Kirill’s haggard state hadn’t all been an illusion put on for Elias’s benefit. It was always tiring to spend so long inside other people’s memories, inhabiting their bodies along with his own. Like living two lives at once. It stood to reason that it would be more tiring than living just the one.

And the repeated blanking of his memory had taken its toll. Every time his vision had gone white and his memory had emptied, coming back had been a little harder. He was glad he had thought of the shock bracelet. He hated to think what state he would have been now in if Elias had kept it up for all of yesterday and today.

He watched Elias across the table, careful not to reveal anything in his eyes. Elias had seen something in him a moment ago—he could tell. He must have caught his reaction to the ghost boy, who made Kirill’s skin crawl every time, like he had gone wandering through a horror flick. He had never met anyone capable of blurring out a face in his own memory before.

Elias clearly thought Kirill had been reacting to his contempt for what the ghost boy had done. He was wrong. As much as Elias might want him to feel guilty, the truth was, he never had.

He had been dealt a bad hand in life. The curse in his genetics: one mildly useful power, in exchange for a lifetime of being hunted. He had done the best he could with that hand. He had seen which choice was the smart one, and he had made it. Elias had made a different choice, and look where he was now.

No, Kirill didn’t regret a thing. No matter how much of a traitor that made him in Elias’s eyes.

He knew how to handle this interrogation now. There would be no need for pain after all, except for the shock bracelet if Elias tried to interfere with his memory again. Maybe even no need for the other incentives he had prepared. All he had to do was press that big red button in Elias’s brain, the one labeled Sammy. Then, once the memories were flowing, he could turn the conversation to Elias’s network. He had done it once already. It had given him several faces which were still clear in his memory, and at least partial names to go along with half of them.

And the steady fear trickling off of Elias told him it would keep on working.

But Kirill had enough experience to know it would only work for so long. The brain can get used to anything after a while, even the deepest grief. The more Elias grew accustomed to their conversations, the less powerful the emotion would become. And if he hadn’t gotten everything he needed from Elias by that point, he would have to find another way in eventually.

If he let Elias ask his question, maybe he could learn something interesting about him. Something about how he perceived this interrogation, and what was important to him at this moment. And everything he gleaned from the other man now was a potential way into his head later.

So he sat back in his chair, loosened his shoulders, and forced his lips into a casual smile. “Well?” he prompted, like he was talking to a friend over lunch—not that he could remember the last time he had done that. “Go ahead. We could both use the break, anyway.”

Elias didn’t ask his question. He eyed Kirill with a wary gaze.

“I know you didn’t ask because you wanted to hear me say no,” said Kirill. “You have something you want to ask me. So ask it.”

Elias gave a slow nod. “All right,” he said. “Who are you?”

Kirill hadn’t been expecting any question in particular. But if he had been, that would not have been it. “If this is meant to be a mind game,” he said, still with the smile on his face, “you’ll have to tell me how to play first.”

“It’s a genuine question,” said Elias. “I’ve seen you put on a few different acts for me. That ‘we’re just a couple of friends talking’ look you have on your face now is just one more of them.”

His eyes held Kirill’s until Kirill gave him a small nod of acknowledgment and let the smile fall.

“What I want to know is, who are you under that?” Elias asked.

Was that all? Kirill was almost disappointed. “I’m who PERI needs me to be,” he said. “You know, I gave you an opportunity here—you could have asked anything.”

“How did you end up with PERI?” Elias asked. “The full story, this time.”

“That’s better,” said Kirill. “Although it still won’t help you. They made me an offer when I was a teenager. I took it. My parents were dead. I had nothing else.”

A few sterile sentences seemed an inadequate description for a time that must have been horrible in the moment, a choice that must have been agonizing. But that was all he had left of that time now, thirty years later. The emotion had leached out of the memory—whether from simple distance or concerted effort, he didn’t know.

He didn’t remember the agony of the choice, if there had been any. He didn’t remember his grief. His parents were stick-figure silhouettes, his childhood a crayon drawing. His life had begun when he walked into PERI headquarters and said he was ready to accept the offer.

“Why?” Memory leaked out around the word—the dirty squat, the ghost boy’s non-face. Then the flow abruptly cut off as Elias’s eyes went dead.

“You didn’t approve of the ghost boy’s choice,” said Kirill.

Elias shook his head. “You won’t get at me that way. I’ve had a lot of practice not feeling anything about him. Besides, we were talking about you.” Elias laced his fingers together on the table. The cuffs rattled against the metal surface. “Who were you before you came to them? Before they needed you to be anything?”

“I was a child.”

“All children are unique.” Half a dozen images of Sammy flowed from Elias before the door of memory slammed shut again. “You were someone. No matter how young you were.”

“What does it matter whether I was a shy child or a reckless one, a bright child or a dull one? No one is the same as they were when they were young. We all change.”

Elias’s brows creased as those dark eyes studied him. “You really don’t understand what I’m asking, do you?”

“You want to know what I was like before I took this job. As if that would tell you anything.”

“You don’t understand,” Elias said—not a question this time. “That’s not all I’m asking. You’re not just what they need you to be, any more than my network is the sum total of what I am. I bought my orchard because I found work on an orchard when I was young and it saved me, but also because I like the fresh air, and the smell of apples, and the solitude of tending to the trees. I like days that drift by slowly, and the space between things—the moments between day and night, the weeks between seasons. The walk between my house and the bunker, as I pass out of one of my lives and into the other. Like a temporary death, without the loss.”

“Very poetic,” said Kirill. “But what do you want from me?” The softly fervent light in Elias’s eyes made his skin crawl without him quite knowing why.

“I’ve been alone since I was sixteen,” Elias said. “I love my wife, but not as much as I want to protect her, or else I would have told her the truth by now. I grew around my wounds, like a tree grows twined around a fence standing in its way. My first deep wound taught me to take care of myself and protect the ones who need protecting. The second taught me how to be alone. The third showed me there was work that needed to be done in the world, and I was the one to do it.” His eyes were bottomless dark pools as they held Kirill’s. “That’s who I am. Who are you?”

Kirill looked away from Elias’s eyes before he realized he was doing it. When he caught himself staring down at the table, he looked back up. A glint of triumph on Elias’s face told him Elias had seen him flinch.

Those eyes threatened to swallow him. Those eyes wanted something from him. Something he couldn’t give.

Luckily, it wasn’t his job to give anything to his interrogation subjects. That relationship only went one way.

He straightened his back and held the man’s gaze. “I don’t get personal with interrogation subjects.”

“Your persona slipped,” Elias said. “Right now you’re acting cold and distant. You’ve done it before when you want me afraid. But for a minute there, you weren’t acting at all.”

Kirill fought not to look away. “Tell yourself you scored a point, then, if it makes you feel better.”

“You haven’t answered my question,” said Elias.

“Because it’s not worth answering.”

“It’s not worth answering? Or you don’t have an answer?” Elias’s voice was soft with… was that pity?

Whatever points Elias thought he was scoring, he was far off the mark. What use would it be—to either of them—for Kirill to explain who he had been as a child? It was all hazy now anyway, turned blurred by time and grief.

His family had died in a PERI raid. The stick-figure crayon drawing had turned red with blood. His family, and everyone else he had known, all dead. PERI had offered them jobs first. They had refused. PERI hadn’t liked that.

It was reasonable—powers like theirs could be dangerous in the wrong hands. They wanted to make sure those hands were theirs. Any Enhanced who wasn’t an asset was a threat.

They had killed everyone, and then he had joined them. Maybe he should have felt bad about that. Elias would say so. If Elias heard the full story, he would call him worse than a traitor.

But he had no regrets. He had joined because he was tired of running, and he hadn’t wanted to die. Maybe back then it had felt like he was betraying the dead. Maybe his choice had kept him awake at night. Now the faces of the dead were as blurry in his mind as the ghost boy, drifting insubstantially out of quickly-forgotten dreams. These days, he slept soundly at night.

Maybe that was why the ghost boy unnerved him so much. Maybe the faceless wraith reminded him of his dreams. Elias wasn’t the only one with faces in his past he had worked hard to forget.

The distance of years had shown him he had made the right decision. Where would he be right now if he had made the other choice? At best, where Elias was now. At worst, long dead.

Instead, he had a job he was good at, one that paid well. He had a girlfriend waiting for him at his apartment, and there would be no shortage of women happy to take her place when their relationship inevitably ran its course. And the faces of the dead were nothing more than blurry crayon smears.

“You can’t figure it out, can you?” Elias’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“I’m not trying. I told you, it isn’t worth my time. What does it matter what I was like as a child? I left childhood behind thirty years ago.”

“I already told you I wasn’t asking about who you were as a child,” Elias said in that same soft voice, with those same pitying eyes. “Did you already forget?”

“A person has to work hard at forgetting for it to happen so quickly. I would know. Forgetting is my business.”

“I didn’t forget any of your rambling. It just didn’t make enough sense to devote much thought to. Crossing from one life to the next? Trees growing around fences?”

“Who are you?” Elias’s voice was soft but relentless. “Is there anything under all your masks? You almost showed me, for a moment there. But then the mask came up again.”

“We’re done.” The tightness in Kirill’s voice shocked him. He looked down at the table and saw his hands clenched into fists. His nails bit into his palms. Only when he saw the half-moon indents in his flesh did he feel the pain.

He had let Elias get to him.

It wouldn’t happen again.

“We’re done,” he said, and stood. “Tomorrow, we’ll go back to Sammy.”

No more divergence. No more letting his prisoner take control, no matter how much he might learn about the man in the process.

Tomorrow, he would reveal his incentive. It didn’t matter whether it was strictly necessary or not. He wanted Elias off balance. He wanted him to know who was in control.

---

Tagged: @cakeinthevoid @suspicious-whumping-egg

Ask to be added or removed from taglist.

[salem-the-silver]

TW: Graphic Descriptions of Body Horror (adding this just to be safe<3)

I really wish more werewolf media would get into the absolute agony that must be turning into a wolf

Like how come whenever a character turns into a completely different organism, they’re just ok??

Like ur telling me that when your bones, muscles, organs shift, it doesn’t fucking hurt???

How come no one dives into the biological aspects of becoming something else? The changes that would need to happen to the DNA in your cells, the genetic code to change from people code to animal code, for that code to then work from the cellular level to the structure of your bones, muscles, organs

Ears from the side of your head shifting and moving to the top, your nose and mouth elongating and growing into a muzzle, your teeth growing sharper, arm and leg bones shifting and cracking into those of canine legs, your tail bone forming more bone to produce a tail, skin getting torn open to make room for canine traits

I cannot emphasize enough how much it would hurt to feel your bones cracking and shifting to accommodate the new canine genes

Feeling the fur grow through your skin suddenly, having to adjust to a new mouth with new teeth and a new tongue, having to adjust to having an extra appendage, adjusting to ears being on top of your head, having to learn how to take care of this new body

And these things can get more and more complicated, like where do the human genes end and wolf genes start? Are the any human genes left? How much of your human brain is left? How much do you remember of living by as a human? Is it all you know and now you’re stuck having to relearn everything as a wolf?

And don’t even get me started on the sensory aspects of suddenly having a new body and getting used to the fur, teeth, paws, tail, ears, etc

It wouldn’t be awful but it’d be new and probably extremely overwhelming

As a biology fan, there’s just so much that can be explored and I’m devastated that I haven’t found anything like this yet

[greenhousethree]

hi! i thought your meta was interesting on wizards and genetics. i'm wondering what you think about how magical diseases work, and why only wizards can get sicknesses like dragon pox!

OMG I love this question, thank you so much!

I hadn't given the idea of magic-specific diseases much thought, but it would have been a really interesting (and potentially confounding) factor to introduce when I wrote that meta. And honestly, I don't know that my answer will be satisfying to other biology/genetics folks in fandom, but I'm always happy to chat about the topic if anyone's got more points to add! I'm writing this next to my lab bench of cell cultures today, so here goes...

First of all, I want to throw away the idea that Muggles aren't affected by magical afflictions because they aren't exposed to them. Wizards live under the noses (literally) of Muggles; if non-magical people could contract Dragonpox and Spattergroit, they would.

This then leads to the question: assuming a magic/nonmagic binary, how have these two populations evolved such different physiologies or genotypes that they can behave similarly and mate with one another, but aren't affected by the same diseases?

Because this question can be answered from sooo many different angles, I've come up with an answer that's basically a headcanon, based on my knowledge and what I think would be a cool way for this to work:

A little non-magical, biology background: there are a lot of ways that our genes affect our physiology. The scientific community has a really good foundational knowledge of how these things work, but we're constantly finding new ways that, for instance, genes we thought only were meant to regulate inflammation also majorly affect lung development. These are multi-factorial genes that affect a lot of specific, but disparate, parts of our physiology.

My favorite example of a genotype that follows a simple Mendelian genetic model occurs in the HBB gene, which encodes a part of the hemoglobin in our red blood cells. When a recessive mutation is passed on by both parents to their offspring, the result is sickle-cell anemia, a heritable condition that affects red blood cells. That's all well and good on a dominant/recessive trait model, but what we continue to learn is that there are also effects of being a carrier of sickle-cell (having only one recessive copy). Carriers have an increased resistance to malaria... not only compared to sickle-cell affected patients, but also to compared to otherwise "healthy" non-carriers. Sickle-cell and malaria are two diseases that seem completely different (heritable vs. parasitic), but they both affect the blood, and carrying one copy of the sickle-cell mutation actually makes carriers' blood just different enough that they become worse hosts for the malaria parasite. This is just one example, and there are a lot of other ways that genes can have protective effects (including by regulating other genes), but I think you get the picture.

Long story short, there are heritable traits that don't seem to be connected, but can really impact one another. I think that whatever that magical "gene" is must work this way, too: it protects against certain Muggle diseases, somehow, and perhaps upregulates or unlocks whatever makes wizards susceptible to magical ones (I haven't even gotten into whether Dragonpox or Spattergroit are viral, bacterial, fungal, or a secret fourth option, but that's for another day). I don't have a proposal for this mechanism, per say, because there are just too many options. But I like to think that there's a little bit of physics and a little bit of magic at work, here.

A few questions that came to me while thinking about this: can half-bloods or Muggle-born wizards contract both magical and Muggle diseases? What the hell to poor Muggle parents do if their pre-eleven-year-old wizard child contracts an illness that the doctors have no idea what to call? I'd be really curious to read some sort of epidemiology text written by a Healer-turned-Muggle-physician, a Carlisle Cullen of wizards, if you will...

(speaking of which, can we talk about how RIDICULOUS it is that vampires, werewolves, and humans apparently all have different numbers of chromosomes? Ugh. I digress...)

Thanks again, anon! 🌱

[northwest-cryptid]

Okay so like here's the thing right, I've learned that I hold a sort of envy for an individual who's life I would never want to live. She very much threw her life away but at least she knew what she wanted. She got to be trans because she didn't work a job, so she could be as out as she wanted without consequence given that her family was fine with it. She could get on HRT, hell even my family supported her and took her shopping for clothes and the like; things my family wouldn't accept the same for me because I'm "their son." Though if that's all it was, that'd have been fine; no the issue came when she picked up hard drugs, had a relatively successful few polyam relationships; something I've only known a few times in my life and something I'll likely never know again. Once more I must state if she avoided the horrible ego death from so much LSD she can't think straight anymore, she'd have been fine. She even started producing, I'll say; honestly kinda decent music? It started to resemble music, but then remember; the acid, the LSD, the shrooms; it was never enough. She didn't have to survive like I did, she had a luxury of her boyfriend and her family being able to support her, she could still mask well while on HRT until she could pass so even when she had to get a job it wasn't too challenging for her; she even lived in a place where that sort of thing is a lot more accepted, so you know; not where I'm living now lol.

At the end of the day I lost my friend not in death, but in that she became someone completely different and we drifted apart, because the drugs just got to her; she'd become almost hostile if you didn't want to try them too; if you weren't willing to experience the world she had seen.

Yet I was always envious of her ability to just do whatever she wanted without a care. I'd never want to live her life; but the things she had were things I wanted, I just didn't know at the time. I think above all however, the fact that I realized I was trans so late.

Many of my friends will respect that I'm NB but it's fairly clear how I'm viewed, I'm not seen as a genderless or multi-gendered entity; rather I'm viewed as NB - Male. It's clear I'm still a man to most of them, as well as to the world at large. Coming to terms with the fact that while no, I don't believe I fit into the binary, I feel such envy towards my old friend because people actually respected her as a woman, there was no need to clarify, barter, or remind people. Even those of us who had known her for years prior to the transition.

I on the other hand have to fight to even be seen as anything other than a man, let alone non-binary. To be seen as a woman is so far fetched to me it feels impossible. If I started HRT I know what would happen, I wouldn't pass well enough, my voice or general genetics would easily give away that I'm trans; and living where I do, working the kind of jobs I do, that's not going to fly. I wouldn't remotely be safe to do it. That's even if I could get through all the paperwork and doctors necessary to sign off for me to even get on HRT in the first place.

I've come to the realization that if I'm going to be viewed as any gender I'd rather that be a woman than a man; but that in reality I'm just feminine leaning; I don't wish to be one or the other exclusively in it's entirety.

I am left wondering if my desire for change doesn't stem from a sort of disapproval from those I care about. I want to be seen as I am by them; even if it means I have to change my physical appearance to make that happen. I hear the way they speak of others, including other NB individuals; never failing to use proper pronouns; until it comes to me. Then it somehow becomes an issue; then it somehow becomes confusing.

I don't want to be rude to the people I care about, I don't want to be off-putting and "correct" them. I guess I'm just tired of not feeling respected or seen or understood.

One of the main reasons I kept to myself about being trans was because I watched how my family treated my friends, always making sure to be accommodating; using the right pronouns, bothering to actually help them transition; and then seeing how they reacted to me even remotely mentioning that I was questioning my gender. Or how they reacted to me being pan, refusing to accept either; telling me I've never "slept with a man so how do I know?" Only to become enraged when I told them I have, several times; and that I even had a few boyfriends in the past.

I've learned that others are allowed to be things that I am not, more often than not I don't even feel like I get to be me; rather I'm just whatever others want me to be when they want me to be it. I exist for others, be it at work or at home or wherever. I don't even know what I want anymore because I've spent so long being someone else for everyone else.

[jay-avian]

Hi! @overdecorated-furniture here. (Asking from my main blog.) Firstly, happy STS, and I hope you are having a great day. I was wondering how you went about building your magic system in The Court Magician, as it’s always a really interesting (and sometimes annoying) part of writing?

Thanks! ✨

Happy STS! So honestly, this particular story takes place in a DnD universe, so I just use the game magic system lol. (You only know a certain amount of spells, and a certain type of spells depending on class and subclass. Using spells take up energy and you essentially recharge your magic the same way you recharge your body: rest.)

That being said, since that's not very interesting, I have another story "The Untold Legend" in which I made a whole magic system. I'll try to explain that one instead!

So a common rule when making magic systems is that it should not do anything and everything. You shouldn't use it as an excuse to cover up a plot hole. Rather, plot holes can be avoided by coming up with reasons why magic does what it does. It should be seen as its own category of science. You should constantly ask questions about how it works, just like when you're coming up with plot.

I wanted magic to solely be innate, no one can learn it. Question: how and why? Answer: a goddess gave magic to a few specific people as a gift (in order to help humanity) and she doesn't want humanity to abuse that power. The magic ends up becoming passed down to their kids so that magic may continue to exist on the mortal plane.

I want there to be all sorts of magic. Question: if it can't be learned, what determines who gets what? Answer: personality. Everyone's souls is completely different, and magic should portray that. It should act as an extension of oneself.

For the plot, I want something to go wrong in which someone loses control of their magic. Question: how and why does this happen? Answer: since magic is connected to the soul, if one's emotions get out of hand, so does that magic. (Other thing related to this: if someone's "soul power" is weak, then so is their magic.)

For another plot point, I wanted only one specific character to be able to dispell a certain spell. Question: how can I reasonably explain this? Answer: the genetic link from before. The character was related to the person who cast the spell, and since those people are connect, so is their magic.

Magic shouldn't be too powerful. Question: how can I limit someone's casting ability? Answer: they should be able to envision who/what/where they're trying to cast something onto. If they have a clear vision or can envision it perfectly, only then will the spell be cast.

It's all about making rules and asking questions as to why those rules exist. Magic should never fill in the plot, but further it. Loved this question, thanks for the ask!

[bbsundae]

Logs

(Dr. Mervin’s log, Aug. 7, 2003)

The genetic build was a success around the stone, the most perfect vessel we could manage for this divine payment. The Diamond will be most pleased by our delivery. As he shall be called, he will have the body of an athletic being, built to run faster than the eye can process, and go unseen to the eye if pleased to do so. The gem will produce his life and power, his desired weapon in hand, he is our greatest success yet.

It appears that we have celebrated too soon, or have we? Boss had gotten frustrated again with an uncooperative testing outcome of another subject, slamming down our tubes of the unknown chemicals into the machine, and my entire ink cartridge. =c There’s another being resulting from the completion of the stone’s build, (Should’ve turned off the machine when told to, Sullivan, you dolt.) Separate, different, unusual. It seems we have just created another “life,” with its own life source, which had created its vessel on its own. A few of us suggested having it terminated. Dr. Darkmore refused this motion.

We call it M.0807.

-

(Dr. Hartwick’s log, Aug. 9, 2008)

“Char,” as the Diamond will call him, has progressed significantly in training. He has mastered many small skills and abilities he has been given and is expected to only improve the more he is to engage in such activity.

Boss has long taken an interest not only Char, but M.0807 as well. They both interact closely, when one appears threatened, the other defends. Char plays with it as if it's a friend. Since the success/accident, the two have been inseparable. When separated, M.0807 acts out. The delivery is tomorrow, and Dr. Darkmore looks forward to it. I do not.

(Aug. 16, 2008)

The delivery was today. When it had come time for the Diamond to finally be delivered the stone, M.0807 lashed out, managing to give one of my partners a scuffle as “Char” was removed from the room. He’ll need his leg patched up, to say the least. 

Our pay has been great for this success, and the Diamond was thankful for our efforts. 

My partner’s efforts especially. He ended up losing his leg due to an infection caused by the wounds caused by M.0807. He’ll need a prosthetic if he is to get back to work.

-

(Dr. Elias Darkmore, M.D; Sept. 20, 2008)

M.0807 has been showing more aggressive behavior, it’s becoming more agitated by the sights of us. The boss had made the decision to give them a temporary companion to find a reaction, which had calmed them in time. Still, they show signs of hostility towards us. Silas has had them moved to solitary near room 667. He says the witnessing of tests should teach it to stay in line.

-

(Dr. Coltrane, Jan. 6, 2009)

As of the relocation, M.0807 has withdrawn from any interaction. From what we know, Boss was right, it’s learning to stay in line. “Using the technique of invoking fear always works,” He told us all. Fascinating how even this thing can feel such.

(Jan. 7, 2009)

I fear the Boss has miscalculated. It lashed out at him when he stepped near its cell, and as a result, we were informed to begin testing on its companion. 

We thought it would put them back in line, but there have been more consequences than benefits. We all can hear its shrieking and whispers throughout the lab, even through the walls. Its confinement is covered in claw marks and ink. It’s demonic. No one dares to go in. Dr.’s interest in it only grows every day.

(Feb. 1, 2010)

His curiosity has peaked. He made the announcement to all of us that M.0807 will be the next subject in testing, though he didn’t look concerned when no one volunteered. He will be doing it himself as it seems. 

Testing starts tomorrow. I wish him the best of luck.