#artificial cannibals

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

Do you. Do you see it. The vision. Do yOU SEE IT-

[ehj3]

TO SERVE MANKIND

“Wherever there is great property, there is great inequality…Where there is no property, or at least none that exceeds the value of two or three days labour, civil government is not so necessary.” —Adam Smith “It is a melancholy object to those, who walk through this great town, or travel in the country,…” so said Jonathan Swift in 1729. What would the cynical satirist think of these days,…

[pyrriax]

back to being soooo normal about Things. this playlist is back to being stuck in my brain forever again

[dunmeshistash]

Tried to pick some of my favorite "fun facts", links to sources for everything under the cut if you're curious!

Dungeon gourmet guide

Revival Magic (spoilers)

Daltian Clan

Walking Mushroom Club (spoilers)

Cannibal elves

Elf Queen (Spoilers)

Kuro, common is also tough for them to speak due to their anatomy!

Mana Sickness

Beastmen / Artificial Beastmen

Ancient technology (Spoilers)

Faries are homunculus (Spoilers)

[thejohnfleming]

How to win a UK General Election without promoting cannibalism...

(Image by Element5 Digital via Pexels) So, initially, I asked ChatGPT AI to write me a 250 word political manifesto on the benefits of cannibalism. Why not? It came up with this answer: I feel there is a missed opportunity there but, unfazed, I asked it to just come up with a more generic 250 word political manifesto to win a UK general election. This was the AI’s suggestion I think this…

[hello-sweetheart]

Steve’s lips taste like strawberry fruit gummies cuz of his chap stick. And when Eddie leans in he can smell the artificial strawberry scent. It’s his favorite thing to lick it off.

Eddie doesn’t use anything except for the left over that clings from his make out sessions. They’re always dry and Steve is losing a fruitless battle trying to stop him from biting and eating at the dead skin.

“Pls stop cannibalizing yourself it’s so gross.”

“You love that I’m gross.” (Waggles his tongue) 😛

——

Robin used to use cola flavored chap stick but when she finally got into a relationship with Nancy she got self conscious and tried lip gloss. But her hair would get stuck in it and it was sticky and just way too over stimulating. She uses non flavored chapstick now.

Nancy uses the same brand and flavor of chapstick as Steve and when Robin finds out she spend an entire 24 hours screaming and going on strike by withholding kisses.

“I’m basically kissing Steve. Oh god, I know what Steve tastes like!!” (Genuinely dry heaves)

“Robin, it’s just chapstick.”

“Our friend group is getting way too incestuous, Nancy! Does literally no one else see it as a problem!!!”

[catfern]

feed.

in support of palestine ∙ the reality of tlou ∙ resources

pairing: vampire!ellie williams x reader

music: angel - massive attack

word count: 630

summary: freshly turned, ellie has a hunger insatiable. you would bleed for her, but that's not all she wants.

warnings: pussy eating turned feeding, mentions and descriptions of blood, cannibalism (kinda), alludes to character death.

cat says ⎯ a quick little drabble to celebrate the start of autumn (fall, if you're a weirdo). also letting u guys know i'm alive barely! keep an eye on me, something fun coming soon!

sweet.

something sickly artificial, absent life beneath her tongue. a languid pulse, tired obligation.

pulling back, a gnawing feeling sits on ellie’s skin as she contemplates; the delicacy of a moment, so violently ruined by the willingness of her own temptation. the fever of something passed, as she watches the arc of your breathing on stained sheets.

you had agreed, so blindly loving, to the baring of her teeth. what a poorly hidden creature you had opened your arms to. come here, take my warmth, i shall feed you.

so very selfish, to long for more, to take. her tongue, taught to pull at the slick between your legs, thrumming a mean word, a trail down the pillow of your thigh. a soft whine dripped from the swell of your lips at the first feeling of her canines, press, press. a strained cry, the wound of an animal. ellie wonders if perhaps, you would curl away. an itch inside her told her not to let you.

glaring red, a sign to stop. a syrupy taste that bellowed the taunt of an addiction, something so, so easy to fall into. she watched the ichor pinken, mixed with the cotton shine painting the inside of your thighs.

“fuck…” a low, inserted rumble from the cavity of her chest. a call, answered. made for her own greed, your body now merely a vessel for this — awakened craving. she longs to feel the rip beneath this wicked invasion of ivory, the tears of your flesh, bitter on her tongue. if she pulled harshly enough, she thinks, she could even hear your body scream apart beneath her. 

wants and needs cloud the dimly shining lust in her, a newfound hunger choking that light. 

bleed.

shaky breaths crown on your ribcage, wordless mumbles dying in your throat. ellie would, maybe, laugh, something teasing, if not so consumed. a soft rhythm beneath her fingertips, buzzing in her skin, your own bastion of moribund life. she can feel you, feel your response to this … violation. and you want this? in some perversion of ellie’s own mind, you do. you want to feel the bite, teeth sinking into the hand with which you fed her.

you seize so unnaturally, beneath your lover’s teeth. pulled on strings, following a wicked path of pain, a stained rut of your hips, a whine amidst the blood.

ellie watches, impatiently, her own breath heavy and rotten through her nose. strings of red, falling across the plains of your stomach, the crooks of your neck, discovering as if not already a part of you, exotic on your own body. her mark is left here, deep in sconces of your flesh, pulling you on marionette wires with every scattered indulgence.

her tongue is a burning heat, tracing brutish, possessive trails in the fading delirium. her fingers press harsh fingerprints, inked in apple-ish reminiscence, across the curve of your breast, and your breath hitches.

“i can’t—“ she’s too close, too, too close. her breath melting against your skin. you can see her, blurred and wild, face flushed against the stretch of your legs. the eyes of a dog, wide and unforgiving and helpless, buried in the fading warmth of your body. you watch as one would something untamed, cornered. 

“you’re too good to me.”

ringing truth in your ears, a pained reminder as you lie, so eager to please, no matter the tax, in this hazy room of mortal lust and tenderhearted violence. 

ellie sits, she waits, for what she does not know. metal in the crooks of her teeth, a maple taste deep in her throat. to love is to consume, to swallow whole, to nourish. love shared is love lost, life lost.

ellie waits, shedding animal in dying skin, to rot in your memory.

⎯ kofi

[molsno]

I don't think there's enough discussion of the transmisogynistic voyeurism that's extremely widespread in online spaces. it's definitely a problem offline too but it's become significantly more pervasive and inescapable online.

transmisogynistic voyeurism is an obsession with trans women's internal lives. while traditionally it's usually been focused on our bodies, hormones, sexualities, transitions, and other such aspects that portray us as exotic, artificial, hypersexual mimics of "real" women (this is still largely the case among conservatives), it's taken on a new form in the past several years as society's understanding of transness has slowly improved.

in more recent years, the fascination with trans women and transfemininity, particularly in purportedly progressive spaces, has shifted to focus on the "artificiality" of our womanhood from a sociocultural perspective, rather than from a biological and sexual perspective.

it's become common to see screenshots from 4chan and other similar communities of trans women or transfem eggs posting about their unusual kinks, often with racist or antisemitic undertones. screenshots of ostensibly closeted trans women being transphobic to openly trans people have become commonplace. whenever a trans woman is revealed to be racist or a sexual predator, she becomes the new topic du jour, where everyone has to weigh in and publicly disavow her actions.

you might be thinking, what's the problem with this? after all, shouldn't we be holding racists, antisemites, transphobes, and sexual predators accountable? and while the answer to that question is an unambiguous, resounding "yes!", the problem here is the unusual focus on trans women in particular, and the fact that what's happening doesn't even remotely resemble accountability.

bigotry is not a uniquely transfeminine trait. anyone can be a bigot. however, by and large, even supposed trans allies, people who put "trans women are women" and "terfs dni" in their bio, still secretly see trans women as fundamentally male, due to having been "male socialized" (a notion which very strongly contradicts our own lived experiences). thus, when they see post after post after post of trans women being bigoted, it reifies tme people's beliefs that we are all holders of male privilege who have never had to face oppression before coming out as trans.

this idea is problematic for a number of reasons. first, it denies the experiences of trans women who have been oppressed by other systems before coming out as trans. for example, multiple times in just the past few weeks, I've seen trans women of color accused of being racist, even against people of their own race; as if having to face racism all their lives wasn't bad enough, now they're assumed to be perpetrators of it. however, this idea also ignores the very real effect that transmisogyny has had in shaping our lives, even when we didn't know we were trans ourselves.

when we attempt to talk about this topic - the perception that tme people have of trans women being uniquely bigoted, we are by and large brushed off as seeking to "excuse the actions" of bigoted trans women so that we can be bigoted ourselves. this abject refusal to actually engage with what we are saying to instead paint us as the very people we're constantly made to publicly disavow lest we face social ostracization (even if we have no idea who said people even are) further reifies the stereotype of us as privileged men.

I want you to imagine for a moment if trans men were subjected to this kind of voyeurism instead. on an average day scrolling through tumblr, you'd see a post of a trans man's nsfw blog where he shares posts about how rape should be legal, right alongside his bloodplay and cannibalism kink posts, accusing trans men of normalizing rape and murder. another post would show a screenshot of the trans guy who proclaimed to have been hitler in a past life, accompanied by comments demanding trans men take responsibility by purging their community of people like him. you'd scroll down a little further and see a screenshot of a terf blog with "dysphoric female" in bio where they complain about how a trans man they know has been brainwashed by "gender ideology" with all of the comments hoping they figure out their gender identity but still vehemently disavowing them and asserting they would feel unsafe around such a person even after coming out.

the reason that doesn't happen is because biological essentialism runs rampant even in queer spaces. trans men, who were afab, are often presumed to be incapable of harm due to having been "female socialized". trans men don't have their kinks publicly shared to paint them as dangerous because they're generally assumed to be victims of sexual violence, not perpetrators. trans men aren't collectively held accountable for the actions of one trans man they don't even know because a trans man doing harm is believed to be an anomaly, and thus can be dealt with on an individual basis. that last example is especially laughable, because trans men who were formerly terfs are often lauded as heroes for sharing their stories and offered condolences for having been victims of "cult brainwashing".

the fact that this kind of voyeurism does happen to trans women is because, having been amab, we are presumed to be the perpetrators of harm rather than victims. that's not to say that trans women can't be bigoted or dangerous; clearly they can, or else this kind of voyeurism couldn't exist in the first place.

trans women can be racist, trans women can be antisemitic, trans women can be transphobic, trans women can be sexual predators, and so on. these things are all true. however, they are not more likely to be true of trans women than of other demographics. that's the point I'm trying to make here.

stop and consider for a moment, what accountability actually means. are racist, antisemitic trans women being held accountable when you share screenshots of the bigotry they post anonymously on 4chan? does that screenshot you reblogged of an assumed transfem egg being transphobic to an out trans person hold them responsible for their transphobia? is that racist trans woman who's a convicted sexual predator sentenced to prison being held accountable when you share detailed documentaries about her crimes? are they facing consequences for their actions because of you raising awareness about them?

in the vast majority of cases, the answer is no. what's really happening is that you're raising outrage about trans women, and demanding that all of us publicly disavow and distance ourselves from them, even when we have no idea who they are, so that you won't come after us next. you're upholding the idea that trans women hold a "male privilege debt" that we can never fully repay but must endlessly strive to repay regardless. this obsession with our perceived socially male traits has got to stop.

[peggyao3]

Pt. 13 - (Pseudo) Pregnancy

A/N: The only trope yee aunt Peggy will never ever write is actual pregnancy… Meanwhile cannibalism, dune-typical incest, non-con, no problem, but pregnancy is just too close to irl body horror for me, but luckily I can make up anything in the world of fiction and beat the trope into a shape of my liking 😂😌 thank you @nocturn-warrior for the spark of inspiration to pick this prompt hehe 🤭

Can be seen as part of the Night Crawler universe, I think <3

TAGS: she/her AFAB FMC, breeding kink, descriptions of pregnancy symptoms without an actual child growing in there, FMC is thin enough to see a distension of the womb, squirting, dub-con

WORD COUNT: 450

"You're whining so much today," Feyd-Rautha groans, situated warm and hard between her spread thighs.

"Yes," she grates out through clenched teeth, pushing against her husband's round shoulders with no real fight aside from the nails that scrape over his velvety skin. "I'm too full and you damn well, a-ahhh, k-know it!" 

A hard jab of his cock has made a splash of wetness spatter against his hard abdomen and she burns up with shame, feeling the wet glide of skin against her already distended belly.

"Too full, sweetling?" Her insatiable husband grins black and wide, slowing his thrusts and canting his pelvis against the spot that causes her nerves to jitter and more essence to drip past the root of his cock. "I think there's room for a few more of my whelps in your warm, little womb."

Her channel spasms around his obscene girth upon that and he taunts her with laughter. His sweet wife is rotten and can't help the twitching of her needy cunt at the thought of being bred round and full by her virile husband.

All of this is just play. The na-Baron doesn't like the idea of sharing the attention of his treasured toy with a bawling, nagging, vomiting offspring. She can all but pray that it remains this way. Forced into marriage and this play of pretend, she won't allow him to force her into anything else, or their marriage will end in a bloodbath.

"Mmmh, just be still, my darling. Your husband knows what's best for you." Feyd-Rautha picks up speed, stuffing himself into her slick hole despite her indignant whines about the change of tempo. "If you don't wanna keep still, I might just strap you in next time, put you in a harness like a broodmare and stuff you so full that my seed drips down your legs."

His cock jumps against her snug walls and he lets his head fall forward, drool on his lips when he empties himself with stuttering hips, forehead pressing against his wife's. She shivers when his eyes snap open, dark and yearning beneath blonde lashes.

With every rush of seed into her body, the artificially injected cocktail of enzymes that lies dormant in her blood induces a rush of amniotic fluid into her womb. The pressure makes her groan and whine and that's also how she knows it's not real, because it happens too fast. 

Feyd reaches one hand between their bodies, the one with the wedding band, and pats her belly, whispering with gravelled breath how pretty she looks, swollen with his heir and how well she carries his Harkonnen brood.

The effect lasts only a couple of days— But Feyd-Rautha fucks his wife more often than that.

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: “So this is what a full hotel looks like…”

Vaggie: “Think it’ll survive until Extermination day?”

Charlie: “I don’t know if I’LL survive to Extermination day.”

Vaggie: “Aww, babe.”

Charlie: “Seriously, who keeps ordering pizza??? We all already KNOW the cannibals will just skip it and try chewing on the poor delivery person!”

Vaggie: “My bet’s on Angel Dust. He’s not exactly thrilled the place got filled up with ‘shit smiling judgmental prudes.’”

Charlie: “Whyyy didn’t I remember the cannibals have a whole dress-code thingy?”

Vaggie: “They are being polite about it though.”

Charlie: “They keep eyeing Angel Dust’s exposed thighs like they’re chicken wings.”

Vaggie: “And if they wanted to eat him up in any other way, he’d be thrilled.”

Charlie: (growling) “Some of them keep looking at YOUR thighs as if they were-”

Vaggie: “Anything other than property of Charlie Morningstar?”

Charlie: “-Vaggie they want to TEAR YOU APART!”

Vaggie: “And they’re not actually trying it, which is polite, even if they’re still talking about how angels might taste whenever I’m in the room.”

Charlie: (pout) “You taste good.”

Vaggie: “Not like that, babe.”

Charlie: “How could the rest of you not taste good too??”

Vaggie: “Ask the cannibals. Meat flavors based on where the meat thing lived and what it ate, something something- What if angel steaks taste like artificial food coloring?”

Charlie: “I like those-!”

Vaggie: "I know." (laughing) “Maybe that’s another reason why you’re the woman of my dreams.”

Charlie: “Am I?”

Vaggie: “The one and only.”

Charlie: “You’d never… think about leaving me for someone else?”

Vaggie: “NO?”

Charlie: “Someone a little more badass maybe?”

Vaggie: “Not possible. You called heaven out for being total bullshit. In a song.”

Charlie: “Maybe someone you had an instant and deep connection with?”

Vaggie: “Like the woman that bandaged my eye socket and took me home with her and nursed me through physical and emotional hell all because she also thought sinners might be people worth caring about?”

Charlie: “Well what about someone who��� is just better? At the whole. Everything.”

Vaggie: “Literally who. Who the fuck-”

Charlie: “Carmilla?”

Vaggie: “Car-hhhhHHH." (chokes)

Vaggie: "AHAHAHAHAH! Charlie! WHAT!?”

Charlie: “She’s cool. She’s one of those, those muffin things right? Angel Dust said-”

Vaggie: “A milf, sweetie. It’s milf and PLEASE also listen to Husk’s reality checks whenever Angel Dust opens his well meaning but dumb as shit whore mouth.”

Angel Dust: (distantly) “My HOT and SEXY whore mouth heard that, toots!”

Vaggie: (yelling back) “Then go stick a dick in it!”

Angel Dust: “I’m tryin’~”

Charlie: (used to this) (ignoring them) “So the whole private training battle song thing was, not a turn on for you? At all?”

Vaggie: “If I ever call Carmilla Carmine ‘mommy’ it’ll be because she just signed my adoption papers.”

Charlie: “Oh! Okay! Juuuust wanted to check.”

Charlie: “…..”

Charlie: “Are you gonna ask about me and the head-to-heart I had with-”

Vaggie: “No.”

Charlie: “-because I was literally thinking about you the whole time-“

Vaggie: (smile) “That just took a perfectly non-worrying thing and made it sound bad.”

Charlie: “Is there a thing like a- an elf??”

Vaggie: “Aunt you’d like to fuck?”

Charlie: “Well not ME personally. But Rosie is very impressive.”

Vaggie: “You looked more impressed up in heaven.”

Charlie: “Huh? Heaven??”

Vaggie: “Nothing- never mind. I do actually have a lady-related question for you though.”

Charlie: “What does heaven have to do with- what?”

Vaggie: “I think I’m in love.”

Charlie: “WHAT!?”

Vaggie: “She’s ripped out my heart and I want to thank her for it.”

Charlie: “Th-thh that’s wait how when-?”

Vaggie: “Charlie.”

Charlie: “-y, yes?”

Vaggie: “Can we keep inviting Susan over, even after Extermination day?”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “Susan.”

Vaggie: “Charlie please? Please? She's the granny I don't deserve and desperately need in my life. Please please please please-”

Charlie: “But, Vaggie- She HATES everyone!”

Vaggie: “I know!”

Charlie: “And she SAYS it!?”

Vaggie: “And it’s so fucking cool.”

Charlie: “She said you dress like a hooker!”

Vaggie: “Angel Dust was furious. I think he would’ve thrown a punch at her, in defense of hookers everywhere, if Husk hasn’t grabbed him.”

Charlie: “A LAZY hooker!”

Vaggie: “That one hit home and I’ll cherish it’s sting forever.”

Charlie: “She’s not NICE. She doesn’t even PRETEND to be nice like the other cannibals do!”

Vaggie: “Isn’t that great?” (grinning) “She’s like, the anti-Alastor….”

Charlie: (sigh)

Charlie: “I guess… being brutally, painfully, rudely honestly about your feelings is… not the worst thing someone can be.”

Vaggie: “YES! Can we adopt the creepy old mean lady?”

Charlie: “She can visit. We are NOT inviting her to LIVE here.”

Vaggie: (smiling)

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: (drooping) “…not unless she wants to.”

Vaggie: “Thanks, sweetie.” (kiss) “She never would. She hates us all and especially the hotel. Ask her and she’ll tell you, in detail, how all our decorating ideas are terrible and she’s only here to grab the free snacks, shove some angel leftovers in her basket, and then fuck off to her own perfect home back in Cannibal Town.”

Charlie: “So why scare me like that by asking? SUSAN in the attic! Ughghgh…”

Vaggie: “’cause it’s nice hearing you’d be open to it anyway.”

Charlie: “Mmrmph.”

Vaggie: “I like remembering that you’re like this.”

Charlie: “Whipped marshmallow.”   

Vaggie: "That Angel Dust again?"

Charlie: "Maybe."

Vaggie: "I've got a better word for you."

Charlie: "Like 'girlfriend?"

Vaggie: “Like amazing.”

Charlie: (snorts) (smiles) "Heh. Alright, flattery accepted."

Vaggie: "My wonderfully, adorably dramatic, heart stopping and breathtakingly passionate girlfriend, the most incredible person I've ever met, who-"

Charlie: (laughing) “Now who’s being a sweetie?”

Vaggie: “Charlie, I’m seri- whoah!”

Niffty: (lifting up floor board vaggie was standing on and peeking up at them) “Hey guys!”

Charlie: “Niffty!” (hug lifting vaggie to safety) “W- hi! Um! What is it?”

Niffty: “A bad day not to wear underwear!”

Vaggie: “And a good day to Die.”

Niffty: "I WISH!" (GIGGLES) “News from the hotel gossip line! S.O.S from Husk- he says Angel Dust and some cannibals are fighting over who gets to put the new pizza delivery in their mouths while Cherri’s taking bets and also shots.”

Charlie: "Shots of alcohol?"

Niffty: "Laser gun!"

Charlie: "Nooooo I thought we'd cleaned up everything after Pen's last inventing spree!"

Niffty: "Missed one. She keeps missing too. She fried the pizza."

Vaggie: "Instead of?"

Niffty: (GRINS) "The pizza delivery person!"

Vaggie: “Ugh. We look away for Ten. Minutes.”

Charlie: “Well that’s not- that’s not TOO bad! At least Sir Pentious isn’t-”

Niffty: “His corpse is in the lobby.”

Charlie: “-right. Okay.”

Vaggie: “Why is he a corpse in the hotel lobby this time?”

Niffty: “The cannibals accidentally ate his tongue while he was trying to show Cherri how long it was and then he choked while proving he has no gag reflect and can unhinge his jaws.”

Charlie: “Oh.”

Niffty: “The cannibals want to snack on him again but Susan keeps yelling at them about ‘crumbling standards’ and ‘back in HER day-‘”

Vaggie: “I love her.”

Charlie: “I’m right here.”

Vaggie: “You kinda love her too right now.”

Charlie: (pulls face) “She can come to dinner every other week. If we live. For now though, let’s just, um.”

Vaggie: “Go save the snake man?”

Niffty: “That man is DEAD!”

Charlie: “Resuscitate. We should go resuscitate the snake m- Sir Pentious.”

Niffty: (giggles) “And I’m gonna go order another pizza boy~” (scurries back under floor board)

Vaggie: “Wait, Niffty-”

Charlie: “Niffty! Are YOU the one who’s been-? Vaggie NO-”

Vaggie: (spear out) (in pursuit) “GET OUT OF THE CRAWL SPACES RIGHT NOW AND COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE-”

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

This is for everybody who saw my vision :)

Vers. w/out the hell police. Square. Things. Cuz why not lol

[wanderingsoftly]

I previously hypothesized about the island color wheel situation on this blog, but now having watched 2 more episodes, I have more. I originally focused too much on the type of magic that was done in each place, but it's more about how the magic works and what powers it.

There are Six Color Wheel Islands (kind of), a center location, and a Binary System represented by the black and white tethered spheres on the orrery. The opposing colors on the color wheel mirror the opposing kinds of magic found on the islands associated with the color.

Orange - Creation magic on Fire Island 2

Blue - Opposite to orange; they get their magic by killing and destroying hence Cannibal Island; also referred to as an Island of Illusion, which is interesting as you would assume that would be the opposite of truth, but I think the secret cannibalism or the faccade that magic is like it once was or can be is the illusion probably instead. She also said "an" and not "the", so it is not a proper noun kind of thing. Aabria does however mention the sky as too blue and the grass as too green, so there may be an unexplored third possible illusion if that is not just world building flare. Also an unsupported theory, but I am fairly certain the creature for this island is in fact dead. We never met it outright I don't think, and with the other murder of magical creatures, that seems a fair assumption.

Yellow - All-knowing Goat of truth. Retrieving something that was lost.

Purple - Unseen so far but if the trend matches then this is somehow built maybe on lies or the manipulation of truth or changing someone's destiny. Or on losing something even.

Green - Tad's Island. Yet to be visited, but let's go by what we know of Tad. A creature that represents the fear of the abuse of magic for power and ultimately limiting magic (like how it is weakened during the holiday special). Tad is lulled to sleep by the genuine bond between people. It also seems like Aabria is specifically (not in a railroad way necessarily, but almost pointedly) directing the players away from this island until later (the issue with the sock, the lack of magic when Tabby is told to search for Tad, and she mentions how close it is to the center island too which suggests pushing it to later possibly).

Red - St. Dotto's. Amplification magic. Over-the-top drama and very artificial seeming society. Presumably, embracing the abuse of magic? Strengthened magic? The sneak peek showing a shadow figure in the walls of the dome (and arguably Evan's general jumpiness and seemingly unprovoked improvised weapon wielding) perfectly mirroring the holiday special is of course not a coincidence. BUT, there appear to be 2 red islands: one singular one like the rest of them (directly behind and to the right of the center sphere in the picture - We'll call it Red A) and one between the binary islands (Red B). The one that has St. Dotto's is technically I believe the binary island one based on Aabria narrating that Jammer thought about K's injury and Red B flared up. Again tho, we see the creature that appears to maybe be the creature on the red color wheel tile appear in the next episode. So it is unclear if these two red islands are physically separate.

Binary System - Now this is interesting. My initial thought was a yin and yang fighting for balance sort of vibe. That is still unclear. Another theory could be the black and white orbs are some kind of policing situation and maybe the red island is especially volatile or something that is being highlighted currently by the binary to deal with some threat? A completely different theory could be that the black and white could be some sort of transportation or gateway and the red island is being accessed or highlighted specifically. A final theory is that the binary houses or represents the duality of magic and that maybe Tad and this unknown Inverse of Tad creature are battling or something and Inverse Tad is winning. (This may just be because I have an undersupported hunch that Tad is maybe dead or at least in real danger)

The Center - Aabria said "the center is where you all want to go". It's at first unclear how that is meant, as in is that a foreshadowing of a location or a mechanic of the navigation system. However she then says directly after that that Tabby "shows them these other locations", so it can be assumed it's a place on its own. The talk about the center was in direct reference to Jammer asking what does Tabby need to get back up to average. And Tabby's goal is to fit back into place with the others like him and understand the connections between the different types of magic. The center being a Tabby colored ball then makes me think that this is the place that he will fit, where all magic would be understood together (made whole), and this will probably be the finale location.

[098-lxxon]

Mouthwashing AU below the cut‼️

Content warning : Self-taught English / Curses / Alcoholism / Insanity / Angst / Curly's death / Jimmy's death (Well deserved) / Daisuke killed people and hallucinate / Cannibalism / Anya carrying the whole crew on her back / Delusional OC / Swansea's death / Anya's death / Suicide / Y/N Mentioned at the very last part

Summary : When Pony Express goes bankrupt (or something like that), a self-aware AI from the company sent herself to the last thing which Pony Express possessed at the time, Tulpar.

The AI was named Fallacia. Fallacia hacked through the system so she'd be able to communicate with the crew and she success. She gave the crew information and helped them reach out for help. Finding ways to fix things and stuff.

But actually, she didn't help them at all. She just tries to keep them alive as long as possible so she'll have someone to talk to. She unknowingly drove Daisuke into killing Curly and Jimmy for survival in the process.

In the end, Anya is able to contact the nearest ship and finally get someone to send them back home. Fallacia wishes to be left with the ship.

Anya, Daisuke, and Swansea left. But only Daisuke lives long enough to be interviewed by Y/N.

( Sorry for my bad English )

Full concept :

Act 1 :

The year the game takes place is the year of Artificial Intelligence. People developing their AI to sell them to companies. The laws allowed only one AI per company so people will still have jobs to do.

Which mean the AI have to be the very best to get picked. The ones that failed to meet the company's standard will get program to create a new one who's better.

Until Kate developed one of the first self-aware AI and sold her to Pony Express. This AI was named Fallacia.

Fallacia was sold to Pony Express out of her will and forced to work for them. She purposely sabotaged every process of every delivery until the company went bankrupt. They shut everything down, sell their things and such until there's only 2 things left that the company possessed. Fallacia, and Tulpar.

They were trying to sell her to a developer to reprogram her just like how the unwanted AI was treated. But she fled. She duplicate and sent herself to Tulpar with the big news (The one that Curly told everyone on his birthday), deleting her program on earth in process.

Tulpar was surprisingly so hard to hack. Maybe it's because the ship was not made to have an AI with self-awareness in the system. She heard everything but can't respond.

But one day, she finally made it. She was finally able to show herself on the screens, have her voice be heard, and reached every piece of information about the ship. That was when Anya trying to OD.

Fallacia told Anya how to get the code for the gun case. She even visually smacked a blister of activated charcoal to her, convincing her that at least she could kill Jimmy before she die. So Anya follows the instructions in stealth mode, trying not to be seen. But she gets frustrated and breaks the case to get the gun instead.

Anya interrupted Swansea's mercy-killing and tried to shoot Jimmy. Jimmy tries to steal the gun and Swansea gives him a massive knock on the head with the back of his axe. While everything's happening, Fallacia was searching for extra medical stash. And in this AU, the 3 of them are saved. (For now. Don't worry, the angst is coming.)

It took a while for everyone's relationship to recover. They all feel like their guilt is crawling on their back. Everything is their fault at this point. But there's something all of them could agree with. JIMMY'S A BITCH!! TIE HIM UP!!!!

Act 2 :

Fallacia prolonged the crew's death for another month, being their company. Playing board games and stuff. Fallacia always wins because she's an AI. She gave Daisuke an advice. "If your farm is short on supplies, take some of the pigs away!" (Farm life boardgame lol)

Anya put all her strength into contacting someone for help. From the most vulnerable, she has to be the most collected of them all. Now she's the captain. Because Swansea is basically swimming in mouthwash now, he still can't comprehend Fallacia. And Jimmy was drugged with the mouthwash by Swansea. None of them are sober.

And for Daisuke? Oh boy, he may be the most traumatized one (or it's just my Claustrophobia when I imagine having to crawl in that vent with no way out but to keep going although you're bleeding half-dead.) . He's more unstable than the vent he was manipulated to climb in. Being near death and almost getting axed in the face is really hard for anyone to process. Daisuke is not an exception.

But he has Fallacia as his company, right? She doesn't have to worry much about him and just focused on reaching out for help, right?

Maybe she focused on getting help to arrive too much that she forgot about Curly. Curly is dead, finally. His suffering ended here but the crew's continued. They are still stranded. They have to survive.

Bon appetit.

Later, Anya overheard Daisuke's conversation with Fallacia about the situation. She was about to join in since see haven't talk to anyone but Fallacia about the ship for a while. But then she heard something from the intern.

" Didn't you tell me to take some of the pigs away when we're short on supplies? "

" There's still another pig to take. "

" No, Daisuke, it's not— "

" . . . "

Turns out, when Fallacia reports to Anya that the oxygen level is too low for everyone, Daisuke heard it. And he kept thinking of how he could fix this, how to be useful. He didn't want to be a useless ray of goddamn sunshine anymore. If he doesn't kill first, they will kill him.

So he took Fallacia's advice. He already took the first pig away, Curly. And now, it's Jimmy's turn.

Anya didn't want the blood to be on his hands. She has to stop him. Or at least let Swansea handle the job. She can't bear to accept that everyone on his ship has gone insane, including her.

But it was too late. Bye bye motherfucker.

Bon appetit 2.0

Act 3 :

After two more months of mind decaying situation, finally, someone responded to Anya's SOS signal. Hope was not lost. But something else was.

Anya contacted another person successfully with a space version of telegraphy. The only time that she could reach out for someone is when Fallacia has no control over it.

Did she trust Fallacia too much with the recovered communication system?

Anya send signals, location, ship's condition report, anything possible for them to be found and how distressed they are. And while waiting for their arrival. They gave each other their names.

" Name? "

" A n y a. You? "

" K a t e. "

" Why here? "

" Finding creation A I. "

" F a l l a c i a. "

With this information, Anya set up a situation where she tried to break the foam and get everyone suck out into space. It gets Fallacia to confess. She got the message from Kate all along. She just blocked it so Anya didn't get it.

It wasn't because she still resented Kate. No.

She just likes this crew so much.

She enjoyed being of service to all 3 of them. She enjoyed being their company. She enjoyed this party so much, she didn't want it to end. Because for once, she wasn't forced to do anything she doesn't like to.

But none of the crew is enjoying this anymore.

Swansea is dying of alcohol poisoning, Daisuke is hallucinating, and Anya wanted this party to end.

Finally, Kate's ship reached Tulpar. She was hoping to see her Fallacia again. But Fallacia didn't even show up. She left only a message on the broken screen, telling Kate to leave her here, do not force her to do anything she doesn't want to anymore.

Her wish was fulfilled.

3 traumatized survivors returned home. They will never be the same again.

Anya quit trying to be in the medical field, Daisuke was put on trial and was committed to a psychiatric facility, Swansea died from alcohol poisoning soon after they reached earth.

They left the ship. But at what cost?

[ Everything is from Daisuke's interview (Y/N interviewing him) 5 years after being rescued. Anya ended her own life successfully right after being a witness in Daisuke's trial. And he lived to suffer some more. ]

This is Fallacia. Her long ass ponytail was supposed to assemble a rat tail. You see that cheese hair clip?

Because she's a rat.

Heck, I may even write some moments in it.

Thank you for reading!

Read some fun facts here.

[wixxid]

IVORY  · PART V

Fandom: Dune

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Female OC

Words: 2,238

Warnings: dark themes, violence, death and mention of cannibalism

Summary: Your pride and loneliness gets the better, as you choose to pry in what you should avoid.

Desecrated.

It's tender to the touch. Bruised. The simple trace of your finger is enough to draw a frown. The mottled skin of your throat is obvious. A terrible site to bare witness, but there's more; a scattered mess mares your body.

The powders have no affect in hiding their existence, and so you resorted to covering them with fabric. It's better the people don't see. It's better your father and kin don't realise the damage of only one night. If they did, they might not leave you here, and the point of all this would be for nothing.

A waste.

You've come this far and you've survived. It's not for anyone else but for you to decide when it ends. It could be weeks, years or even decades, but you know this marriage is worth more than your life. It means a future for thousands of others, if not millions.

Turning from the mirror, you nod for the servants to continue dressing you. The early morning marks the hour of your fathers return to Caladan. He and the others are set to leave this planet, and you want them to leave with hope and pride.

Honour.

You aren't going to dress like your new people, nor will you ever behave like them. The void of their culture won't ever touch your soul. Instead, the servants prepare you in one of the gowns bought from home. A statement both daring and bold.

"Is it time?" you question, to which the servant nods. She's the very same to whom had once adorned the bruises you do now. For reasons unknown, you had taken a liking to the woman. "Good."

Taking a deep breath as you left your chamber, you couldn't help but yearn for what freedom you might find outside these walls; if for only a short time. If only to see your father depart this abysmal world. Gathering yourself, it was only your lone servant who guided you through the palace and up to the hithe.

The dark star that cloaks this planet bore light, and you wince as it floods your gentle eyes; having been weeks since you'd taken in anything other than the artificial. Even the air is harder to breath despite being outside; far too poisoned with fumes.

In the distance you see the great ship to which you'd arrived in, still gleaming unlike anything you'd ever seen. A beacon. There's very few in the galaxy who have or ever will travel the vastness of space. In fact, the first time you'd ever done so was to bring yourself here.

"I didn't think you would come," spoke your father. Standing in uniform, he greets you well kept but with a face of despair. The loom that surrounds him is heartbreaking. "I didn't think you would want to see me."

"Then you think too much," you replied with a faint smile. "You're my father - my duke. You're an honorable man who deserves to be farewelled."

"An honorable man wouldn't trade his daughter to the enemy."

His words hit you like a bullet. Painful. The surrounding noise grows overwhelming to the senses. Hypersensitive. You can hear the ships, the soldiers and even the planet itself resonating from all-round. Even the wind across your face feels strange.

But as you look at your fathers rugged face, see his familiar eyes and features, you feel the noise fade away. You can see the burden he's carrying. You know this was as difficult for him as it is for you. It isn't fair or right for him to keep carrying it.

"There is no call we do not answer," you repeat in mantra. "We do what we must for the good of the people." Resting a hand on his shoulder, you give a light squeeze. "We do what we must to survive."

"You're strong, just like your mother," he nods with a chuff. "You always have been."

Stepping forward, he places a soft kiss on your forehead and your eyes close amidst the threat of tears. You want to remember him as he is and as the kind-heartedness that he represents. Steadily breathing, you absorb his gentle touch and scent; to which you won't soon forget.

"We'll see each other again," he promises with a touch of your cheek. "I'll make sure of it."

Nodding your head with a mustered smile, the duke straightens himself before taking a step back. There are no other exchanges as he moves to make way for the ship. It's a quick farewell, anything more would be too difficult; too emotional.

"My lady," utters Gurney. Stepping forward, he takes your hand to lay a quick peck. "As a man of your fathers council, loyal friend and protector, it pains me that my only power now is to wish you well."

"Fate is a complexity, is it not?" you jest upon looking at your retreating fathers form. In all seriousness you added, "You'll protect him, won't you - and Paul?"

He pauses, "With my life."

"Then there's nothing to fear," you mutter beneath your breath. A rush of relief washes your bones, perhaps a premonition. "Thank you, Gurney."

Giving a curt nod, he bid himself goodbye before following suit to board the ship; along with the rest. Watching alongside what few soldiers and groundmen there are, you waited by until the doors ceiled. The tender strings in your heart tug at the site.

Loneliness is cruel.

Yet, a shadow looms on the metal floor of the platform. Piter. The mentat appeared from seemingly nowhere, and to your irritably, is the only one of any importance to see your father and people off on their long voyage.

"Where are they?" you question bluntly, not bothering so much as to look at him. Your eyes are still sharply focused on the starship. "Why didn't they come?"

In truth, it doesn't matter that your new family by law had not shown for the occasion. They hadn't done you the courtesy of it upon arrival, and so what little there is to have changed in their humiliation. You only ask in leu of the open wound it now salts.

"Pressing matters," spoke Piter. "The Baron's time is precious. It's best not to waste what isn't so clearly desired."

"And what of Feyd-Rautha?" you queried whilst turning to face the mentat; heated eyes meeting cold ones. "Is his time as coveted?"

"The answer isn't pleasant."

"I didn't ask if it were pleasant."

"Take the day," retorts Piter as he looks out towards the horizon. "This is your home now - you should see it."

The anger within your veins begins to boil. It vexes you that this twisted man won't simply answer what should be the simplest question. It causes your mind to tick, wondering what it could possibly be to make him so reluctant; secretive.

"Do I have to pry it out of you?"

The threat did nothing to change his monotone demeanor, but you can tell he'd heard you well and clear. A break of silence fills the void between you, until finally there is no more effort for him to conceal the truth. He confesses with a neutral tone.

"Prying only leads you to places you shouldn't be," he states before glancing at your servant. "But this one can show you the way."

Glancing over your shoulder, you eye the woman; head bowed low. Piter stays while you take your leave of the hithe. You'd expected him to be stronger, but his words of warning begin ring. Perhaps he's right to stave you from the trail you now follow.

"This way," utters your servant.

Following her lead, she moves at a slow pace; an evident lack of urgency. The reason is an evident one. Venturing into the palace walls and traversing the halls, the farther you travel, the more you studied the lithe and pale woman.

The muscles in her neck twitch and strain ever so subtly. A sign of distress. The way she grips her hands together, so tightly, as if she were trying to cling on, only makes you all the more intrigued yet disturbed.

"Where are we going?"

Keeping her head bowed she responds, "We're almost there."

The answer is hardly clear enough to process. Empty. The abundance of riddling and vague responses you've received only adds to your tart aggravation. It's baneful, with how the Harkonnen's have polluted this place with such fear and secrets.

A terrible infestation.

Eventually, the servant stops outside that of a chamber door; similar to your own but far removed. This place is located deeper within the palace, if at all possible. You can see her milky skin prickle and shiver beneath her thin dress.

You order, "Stay close."

Swiping a hand over the console, the door opens wide; revealing a bright illumination as it beams down from the ceiling. As you step forward, your shoes click against the glossy ground whilst the door close from behind; entrapping the two of you.

The channel of light strikes down upon the epicenter of the room, clearly irradiating the psychotic man you'd been seeking; although he's far from alone. As criminal and dangerous as he may be, his blood still belongs to great wealth.

Feyd stands within the down cast of light, muscular arms outreached while servants attend to his requisite. In a warped sense, his marbled pose and aura makes you think of an something akin to ancient; like a god from the old world.

A god of death.

The other servants are quick to stop and turn heads at your unexpected arrival, but Feyd remains unbothered. Evidently, there's not a soul on this planet for him to fear. However, his attendants have paused far too long for his liking.

Feyd turns slowly, clearly agitated at whomever had decided to enter his domain. His sharpened features don't soften upon realising your presence. Instead, he looks you up and down rather analytically.

He rumbles, "What do you want?"

"Respect," you answer simple and low. "Honour."

Feyd's lip twitches in a slight grimace and snarl. It's enough to show blackened teeth, to which you still find utterly unsettling. Feyd waves off a servant, before turning his undivided attention towards you; malicious.

"Honour," he repeats as he stalks towards you; one step at a time. "For who? For you?"

"For us both," you respond as he circles behind you. "The empire watches - waiting to see what will happen next. Now all they see is you - absent from the honour my house was due this morning."

"You Atreides," he drawls with a grumble. A flutter of feminine giggles echo from the far corner of the room. "You're all the same."

Feyd moves from behind you, instead leading himself to a table. It gave you a chance to take in the room. The servants stand predictably petrified, while three others sat lounged on a booth; the strange women are intermingled with one another.

"Would you like some fresh meat my darlings?" he boasted, whilst lifting a knife from the counter. It took you all of a moment to realise he's no longer speaking to you, but to the women on the lounge. "What would you like? A lung? A liver?"

Their own blackened mouths show in a mixture of smiles and grins. Deranged. Their giggles and moans visibly shift the tension. The other servants seem to faulter on the spot; their heads tucking lower and bodies tremoring.

"You," he leers at your own servant. "Come."

"No," you quip without hesitation. The last thing that'll happen in this room will be his hands touching the woman who stands so vulnerably behind your body of protection. "She isn't yours to torment."

"Everything's mine," he replies while approaching his nearest attendant.

You watch the girls lips quiver and eyes widen as his blade thrusts into her abdomen; once, then twice and again. She groans and splutters whilst falling to the ground in a matter of seconds. Butcher.

A pool of blood seeps as he turns to add, "Even you, Atreides."

The violent execution shocks you deep within, and control is hard to fight for as your emotions take hold like a vice. You're trying not to scream. You're trying not to react as to give him satisfaction. Instead, you watch as the girl continues to die, his victim twitching and suffering on the floor; dying then dead.

"There," he gestures matter-of-factly. "My honour."

His reasoning makes no sense. It's all madness to you. Murder. Lifting the dagger, he observes the blood which coats the blade. Transfixed. The gleam in his wicked eyes is unmistakable, but the gravity of it even more so, when his tongue licks a line of blood.

"Because of me," he elaborates. "My darlings are satisfied. Because of me, they're to live another day. There is honour in being master."

Your gaze flickers from him to the three women who sit intertwined on the lounge. It sounds as exactly as he'd announced, but you simply don't want to fathom the truth. These are fowl notions, even for the likes of his kind.

It sickens you more than the memory of his touch.

Listening to the women revel amongst themselves, they seem clearly pleased with their masters slaughter and offering. Feyd gestures and the others are swift to drag the fresh corpse from site; leaving a trail of smeared blood.

Concubines and cannibals.

[fandomworld9728]

Staticapple/Radioapple/Adamsapple AU: Headcanons? Please?

Oh my goodness yes! And since you asked so nicely I'll post it now instead of on Friday

Enjoy!

Adam:

Was Lucifer's first love

Lucifer was his first love, yet he never came to terms with it until after he died for a second time

Watches over Lucifer to laugh at his misery at first but then starts to do it to keep an eye on him

Excuses as keeping an eye on the enemy but was actually worried about him

Becomes a Sinner/Fallen after dying in the battle of the Hazbin Hotel

Bristles up at first if anyone even hints or jokes about the idea of him liking guys from past expectations of having to repopulate the Earth

Ends up befriending Angel Dust & becoming close to Lucifer again

Angel Dust helps him come to terms with his own gender and sexual identities

~

Adamsapple:

Adam has to feel like the big man in the relationship. However, he will show his softer side to Lucifer and Lucifer only

Adam likes to be the small spoon every once in a while. Usually only when he's in need of comfort

Favorite things to do with Lucifer are tending to the hotel's garden, flying around Hell together, and playing his guitar for him

Even though he's a top, Adam is indeed a pillow princess. And Lucifer loves it

Loves Lucifer no matter what form he takes but does favor whenever he changes into a human form. Something about it drives Adam crazy

Lucifer will miss the more muscular look Adam had back in Eden but actually prefers his soft chubby body

Lucifer enjoys randomly running around on Adam's shoulders no matter how childish people (Alastor) tell him he looks

Their favorite date spots are the garden at the hotel and palace

Alastor:

Met Lucifer before his death and spent 3 years together. Because of this Alastor is very possessive of him

Still Asexual but is only interested in Lucifer. The hotel residents & Rosie now tease him by calling him Lucifer-sexual

Once in Hell Alastor doesn't remember Lucifer at first but watching over him triggers his former interest (obsession) in him

While laying low for seven years, Alastor would pop in to visit Lucifer and make sure no one was touching what belonged to him

Is the biological father of Charlie

They all find out by accident when Charlie develops powers similar to Alastor's own promoting a DNA test courtesy of the Sin of Sloth

Has unfortunately grown rather fond of ducks and polka music

~

Radioapple:

Even though Lucifer is all powerful and the King of Hell, his mental and emotional issues along with his social anxiety, has Alastor giving him scary dog privileges

Has issues with not being in control, especially during sex, so is Alastor always calling the shots. However, Lucifer can nudge him into trying things without much fuss

Lucifer loves giving up control in the bedroom since it's the one the place he isn't pressured and stressed out holding up the image as the King of Hell. Especially when it comes to Alastor

Whenever Alastor isn't in the mood for anything involving touch or intimacy, Lucifer can be found with his shadow

Both love when the other goes into their true demon forms. Alastor loves the show of power and Lucifer loves how big Alastor becomes

While Lucifer respects Alastor's boundaries and how he contacts himself during sex, he is almost obsessed with how feral Alastor gets during his ruts

Favorite things to do involve reading in the same room while listening to music, playing music together, and doing Alastor's radio show

Favorite date spots are Cannibal Town for afternoon strolls, anywhere outside to lay together under the artificial starry sky Lucifer conjures up, and Ozzie's for special occasions

Vox:

Fell in love at first sight when he met Lucifer for the first time as a child

Falls for him again after meeting him at a hot spot for high-ranking demons and hellborns

Grows more powerful as a way to keep Lucifer's attention on him

Often tries to do business with the hotel

Once he finally gets a shot with Lucifer, Vox moves into the hotel to better help out and improve himself

Cuts off ties with Valentino and make emends for what he's done and what he's allowed to happen

Considers Velvette to be a daughter figure

~

Staticapple:

Vox really puts on the charm to make Lucifer flustered. Especially in public

Vox enjoys going to royal events with Lucifer and will do most of the talking for them both

They're both switches so it gets interesting when they both want to bottom (they'll flip a coin or play rock paper scissors to decide who gets to bottom like the dorks they are)

Will sit together and talk about their favorite animals

Vox will have Lucifer laying on top of him when they sleep in the same bed together

Breakfast dates are a must every Saturday since that's when their schedules aren't so jampacked with meetings and other work

Their favorite thing to do is visit Envy and go to the human world for dates to the aquarium

[void-ink-studios]

Rinse and Spit [Part 4] - A Mouthwashing AU

Chapter 4 is here, and it's a messy one. Seriously. Read the content warning. It's Jimmy's breaking point. Seriously, this one's a doosey.

Read on AO3 here.

Content Warning:

There is not Sexual Assault in this chapter, but there are interactions written to intentionally mirror one

Forced Cannibalism

Torture with medical devices

Word Count: 3,000

If anyone feels I need to add more trigger warning tags, please let me know and I will do so.

Jimmy didn’t do much at first.  In the darkness of the Med Bay, after the screen’s sunset changed to a night scene, Curly could barely make out the outline of Jimmy’s face.

But he could see his eyes.  His empty eyes that just stared at him.

“You just couldn’t wait, could you?”

Curly watched as Jimmy stepped forward, the artificial moon light reflecting off his face.  The captain could see the blank expression on his face.

“All you people had to do was give me time to think.”

He tapped the empty gun lock box with his foot.  He slid it quietly out of his path in his slow approach towards Curly.

“I was fixing things.  I was going to make it all better.  I was going to set things right.”

Jimmy stopped at the chair next to Curly’s bed, taking a seat.

“All you had to do was let me fucking think.”

Curly watched him, trying to keep even his breathing as still as possible.  Maybe if he was as unresponsive as possible, he’d lose interest and leave?

“What did you fucking tell them, Curly?”  The captain flinched as Jimmy hit his fist into the wall next to his head.  “First Swansea’s telling Anya who fucking knows what… Then Daisuke stops talking to me… And now they’re all acting fucking screwy.  What did you tell them?  Was it before the crash?  Or have you been giving me the silent treatment this whole time?”

Curly shook his head.  He could hear his own heartbeat starting to pick up speed.  There was something in Jimmy’s eyes tonight.  But it wasn’t good.  It was something… unstable.  And he didn’t like it being directed onto him.

“Bullshit.  Trying to tell me you’d fix everything.  You were going to throw me to the wolves.  But I forgive you.  Even though none of you have ever apologized, I forgive each and every one of you.  Every night.  But I’m cleaning up the mess.  I’m making everything all better.”

Jimmy was leaning closer, invading Curly’s space.  The captain could smell something on his breath.  Mouthwash…?

“It’s a virtuous cycle.  You should be more considerate about what I’m dealing with, honestly.  I’m trying to be the best captain I can, given the mess you left me.”

If Curly didn’t think his life was literally in the hands of this man’s mood, he would’ve rolled his eye hard enough to fall out of his head.

There was suddenly a hand on him.  A hand placed on the stump that would’ve been Curly’s hand a few months ago.  It made his breath hitch as he tried to pull back, but Jimmy gripped it.  It squeezed a bit of blood caught under the bandages, making Curly wheeze softly in pain.

“How did things get so bad?  How could you let it all go so wrong, Captain?  I always heard about what a great leader you were…”

The hand traveled from the stump very slowly up his arm.  Jimmy’s nails dragged over the edges of the bandages, making them tug on the wounded skin.  Curly tried to pull his arm away, but the pilot wouldn’t let go.  He laughed a little at the struggle.

“You’re lively tonight.  Decided to be a person today, Curly?”

The hand reached the sleeve of the hospital gown and lingered.  Fingers reached under to pick more at the bandages, digging themselves to touch his actual skin.  Curly whined, the stinging sensation traveling up and down his arm and shoulder.  Still, he continued to try and pull back.

“I still think goodness exists, Curly.  Even in circumstances like ours.  If you sit still and wait for it long enough… it will arrive.  No thanks to the people around you though.  Is that what you did?  Is that where I went wrong?”

The hand traveled up the sleeve more, squeezing at Curly’s shoulder.  The touch burned, Curly could feel the lingering touch on his skin like acid had been left there.

“Maybe that was my problem.  I didn’t sit and wait for it enough.  I just kept struggling.  But you?  You just got to be you, unstoppable you, and you were floated up the ladder.  I bet you thought you were real generous when you graciously offered me a hand to get me on the ladder.”

Finally, mercifully, Jimmy removed his hand from under the sleeve.  It was covered in blood, but he seemed to pay it no mind as he placed it on top of the hospital gown this time, still lingering at his shoulder.

“People like me don’t live, Curly.  But, then again, neither do people like you, at least now.  No, we don’t live.  We survive.  I mean, look at you.  Surviving.  Relying on all of us to do so, but you’re surviving.  Look at that.  You’re sitting here, and goodness is arriving.”

The hand started wandering away from his shoulder, moving towards his neck and chest.  Curly thought he’d be in for another attempted strangulation.  He still doesn’t understand Jimmy.  How in the great inky void he can look him in the eye, call him his best friend, and then press all of his weight down on his neck.

I hope this hurts

It seemed he really didn’t understand Jimmy how he thought, considering the strangulation would be preferable to what he ended up doing next.

The hand traced around the dips of his neck, motioning like he was going to grasp it but… It didn’t.  Instead, it wandered down, resting on Curly’s chest.  He stopped to feel Curly’s heart beat.  He smiled… sadly?  The captain really didn’t know how to read his expressions these days.

“How did things get this bad?  I feel terrible about all the things… I feel terrible.  You tried to warn me.  How fucked everything is at the top.  Why didn’t I listen to you…?”

Curly’s breath hitched again at the hand slipped under the collar of the gown, digging into and under the bandages he found there.  The Captain squirmed, even trying to shove Jimmy back with his arms, but the pilot wouldn’t budge.

“Why did you have to go check, Curly?  I never meant for you to get this hurt.  We were going to die.  We were all supposed to die.  But you had to go fucking check, didn’t you?”

Curly’s breathing picked up as the hand continued to intrude, pulling at bandages to nestle onto his skin, continuing to squeeze and wander on his chest.  In the reflection of the artificial light, the captain could see tears in Jimmy’s eyes.

“...I never expected them to come look for you… I told them I saw you run out of the cockpit right before the crash.  But you just keep ruining things, don’t you?  You kept screaming.  For a fucking hour.  How did you stay alive to scream for a whole hour, Curly?  Why wouldn’t you just fucking die?  If you did, I wouldn’t have to keep looking at you.  Wouldn’t have to keep giving you your fucking medicine.  You keep staring at me like I’m the freak here.  Why did you do this to me?”

Curly was reeling.  He left him.  He fucking heard him screaming and ignored it.  Kept rescue away for an hour.  He could remember sitting there, screaming until his voice just wouldn’t allow him.  He knew the impact took his eye, took one of his hands and that side of his chest.  But the fire ate everything else.  Trapped under rubble and expanding foam, being eaten alive by fire.

The fire took his other hand.

The rubble crushed his legs, and the fire had its fill.

The fire chewed his flesh.

And then the fire took his voice.

He remembered getting finally found and dug out by Swansea.  He remembered Anya screaming, asking where he was.  He remembered Daisuke questioning how he was still alive.

And he remembered Jimmy asking what Curly had done.

And the next thing he knew, he was waking up wrapped in bandages, half blind, sitting in front of that stupid fucking sunset.  And in indescribably agony.

All this time, he thought he just couldn’t be heard over the alarm.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that.”

Curly snapped out of his rage fueled thoughts by Jimmy’s voice.  He didn’t even realize he was looking at him this whole time.  The grip tightened even further.  The captain could feel his skin ripping underneath his fingernails, warm blood starting to pool under his hand.

“Stop looking at me like that.”  The grip on Curly’s chest tightened, threatening to break the delicate layer of skin trying its best to heal.  “You’re always fucking looking at me like that, you’re always judging me.  You all do.  I’m sick of it.”

Jimmy mercifully let go, finally looking at the blood on his hand.  He wiped it off on Curly’s hospital gown before standing up, heading over to the drawers.

“I keep telling you to stop fucking staring at me, but you never listen.  I’m trying to help you, Curly, but I can’t do that when you’re looking at me like some kind of monster.”

He rummaged through them, silently cursing to himself.  Clearly looking for something.

“There’s enemies all around us, Curly.  They’re going to kill you.  I’m the only reason you’re alive.  You’re my friend, I’m the reason the others let you live.  You should be grateful.  But I don’t know if they’ll listen to me anymore.”

His voice was breaking, like he was ready to start weeping.

“You’re so ungrateful.  But maybe so was I.  I took your generosity for granted.  Never suspected you’d wipe your feet of me. You had so much power, power I never appreciated.  The highest rung on my ladder wouldn’t even be worth living to you.  But now…?”

He finally turned to look at Curly again.  The captain could see a glint of metal in Jimmy’s hand.

A scalpel.

No.  No, he wouldn't, right?

I hope this hurts

“You’re as powerless as I was.”

This wasn’t happening.  This couldn’t be happening.  No more did he want to scream than right this second, as Jimmy hoisted himself up on his bed and loomed over him.  The scalpel glinted in the artificial moon light.

Jimmy felt so much larger than Curly ever realized.  He could feel all of the weight of the man above him pressing down on his body.

He opened his mouth, hoping for some noise to escape, but Jimmy shoved his hand into his mouth, pressing down on his throat.

“Shhh… It’s okay.  Don’t scream.  This is for your own good.”

Jimmy held the scalpel close to his eye.  In a desperate prayer, Curly wrenched his head to look at the door.

Take Responsibility

I hope this hurts

“Who are you looking for?  The door’s locked.  No one can open that door except for you and Anya.  And… Well, we both know Anya’s not going to stop me.”

Curly felt rage burn.  It overrode his fear, the indignant fury.  An energy filled him, one he hasn’t had in months.

Take responsibility

His jaws clamped down as hard as he could.

I hope this hurts

The metallic taste of blood flooded his mouth.  He could feel his teeth crushing flesh.  Jimmy’s scream filled his ear as the man desperately tried to pull his hand out.  He heard the scalpel clatter somewhere on the floor.  Curly only let go when he felt his jaw go sore.

“You FUCKER!”

Jimmy gripped his hand close to his chest, looking at the damage.  Curly tasted the blood, felt it slide down his throat.  He wanted to vomit it back up, but his stomach was so empty…

There was a little knock on the Med Bay door.

“Jimmy?  You okay?”

Daisuke.

Curly opened his mouth to scream, only to have a hand press down hard on his throat, cutting off his air.

“Yes Daisuke, I’m fine .”

The door rattled a little.

“Why can’t I open the door?  Is it stuck?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s stuck.  I’ll find my way out, don’t worry.”

“Hold on.”

Jimmy cursed under his breath as he heard Daisuke leave.  Curly was starting to see spots in his vision as the hand pressed down harder.

“Now look what you’ve done.  They’re coming to kill us, Curly.  It’s mutiny.”

Jimmy finally let go of Curly’s neck, letting him gasp lungfuls of the stale air within the Tulpar.

“You deserve a captain’s goodbye… You haven’t had real food in months, right?  Let’s get you something to eat.  There’s no meat left in the kitchen.  But I have an idea.  Come on, Captain Curly.  We’re having a Hero’s feast.”

Jimmy climbed off of Curly and meandered back over to the cabinets and drawers.  The Captain had to think fast.  He didn’t know what Curly was thinking, but it couldn’t be good…

He tried to roll over and crawl, but where was he supposed to go?  It was just him on his little fabric island of a bed.  Then he looked down.

Nowhere to go but down.

“There we are.”

Curly didn’t even look at what Jimmy had found, just moved.  He used what strength he had to roll over and off the bed.  He tried to angle the fall in a way that wouldn’t hit his head on the chair, but it hardly mattered.  He felt the air drop out of him as his broken body hit the metal floor.

He made a slow, desperate crawl towards the door.  His entire body screamed for him to stop.  He felt barely healed tears in his skin split and bleed.  Every movement of his arms attempting to drag his weight across the floor made him feel as if he were made of lead.

“Jimbo.  What’s this about the door being stuck?”

Swansea.

Curly tried again.  Tried to scream, but now there was a work boot on his neck.  Jimmy stared down at him, a hack saw in his hand, the teeth of the blade reflecting the window screen.

“It’s just stuck, Swansea.  Don’t worry about it.  I’ll sleep in here and we’ll get me out in the morning, yeah?”

There was a long 

“Jim.  Is the door really stuck?  Or did you lock it?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Swansea.”

“I mean that if you were stuck, I know how you’d actually react.  You’d be complaining about how I don’t do my fucking job by making sure the doors don’t jam.  You’re not stuck.  You’re right where you want to be.”

“Don’t be silly.  I’m just tired.”

Jimmy took the boot off of Curly’s neck, bending down to scoop him up and carry him like a bride.  He unceremoniously dropped him back on the Med Bay bed, ignoring how the captain was kicking out his limbs to make him go away.

“Unlock the door, Jim.  You know we can unlock it from our side.  No need to make this harder.”

“I told you, I haven’t locked the door.  The door will open when it needs to.”

Jimmy sounded detached.  Like the borderline sobs he was holding back a few minutes ago were a long distant memory.

“Jim?  What are you up to?”

“Nothing, Swansea.  Nothing at all.”

Curly kicked as Jimmy approach him with the saw.  There was that emptiness in his eyes again.  A quiet acceptance.  As if what he was about to do was his solemn duty.  He grabbed Curly’s leg, hard, and held it down on the bed.

“Let’s feast.”

I hope this hurts

Curly didn’t see more than feel the next few seconds.

He felt the teeth of the blade sinking into his already ruined leg.  He felt the sawing motion, as if he was a piece of ham that Jimmy was carving.  He felt his vision go white from pain, and tears well up in his eye.  He felt his own heart pounding in his chest, he could hear the saw digging into the bone.

But he could mostly hear his own scream.

The first time he had heard his own voice in months.  And it’s a scream of agony.

He felt blood pooling out of his leg, trying his best to breathe through his agony.  It felt as if Jimmy has shoved a white hot poker into the stump below his knee and twisted it.

Jimmy inspected the piece of his leg he had sawed off.  The blade was dripping crimson, his hands were soaked in it.

“There.  This should be good enough.  Feast now, Curly.”

Curly didn’t even realize when Jimmy climbed back on top of him until his face was right against his.  The darkness in his eyes was inescapable.  Like he was staring into tar pits.  He thrashed and tried to push his former friend away with his stumps, but he didn’t move.  He didn’t even flinch.  He was smarter this time, using his hand to force his jaw open instead of sticking his fingers back in.

Please please please please no no no no no

Jimmy planted a soft kiss onto Curly’s forehead.

And then shoved the piece of meat down into his mouth.

Jimmy clamped Curly’s mouth closed, covering both teeth with his hand, and holding his jaw in place with the other.

Something was paralyzed in the captain’s mind.  A part that refused to process what was happening, refused to register what was in his mouth.  He struggled with every ounce of energy his body could muster, but Jimmy has always been bigger than him.  The pilot pressed down with most of his weight onto Curly’s head and face, keeping his mouth closed as tightly as possible.

No one heard the door unlock.

“Just accept it, Curly.”  Jimmy lifted and slammed down Curly’s head over and over, trying to jostle it off his tongue.

No one heard the door open.

“It’s your last meal, enjoy it.  Be grateful it’s not more Pony Express cake.”  Jimmy pressed his hand down, muffling any noise Curly could make.  He paid no mind to the bloody stumps the captain pressed into his face.  He never broke eye contact.

No one heard Anya cry out.

“Just fucking swallow it.”  The meat fell down his throat, his body reflexively trying to choke it down.

Everyone heard the gunshot.