#because yes. The web really is that fucking dangerous

[solazu1]

Do schools not teach online safety well enough anymore or are kids just fucking dumb nowadays. Genuine question.

[anxi-aashi]

ok i dont have the energy to put this into a fic rn but i CANT stop thinking about college au! childe almost walking in on you while you're getting yourself off.

like he'd still knock of course, but it would scare the absolute shit out of you. instead of hanging out with your roommates that he's friends with (who are most certainly NOT gathered in your room) he'd be all "hey pookie can i come bother you I'm bored," while you're fully sat on a dildo.

and bc you wouldnt want to seem suspicious, you'd say sure, just a sec! and immediately run to throw the sopping wet toy into your bathroom sink before letting him in.

and he's just too observant for his own good. "hey you ok? you seem out of breath" yeah because you were.... working out! "really? you're not sweating though?" CHILDE DROP IT OMFG but he wouldn't. he just asks so many goddamn questions and you honestly can't tell if he's just fuckign with you or if he's just genuinely concerned for you. what were you doing? pilates? so thats why you're walking a bit weird? how tf were you not sweating after pilates? oh you just started? well sorry to interrupt!

yeah.... you're sorry too -_-

but hes here now so you offer to watch a movie and hang out, nevermind the cum threatening to run down your leg. "sure! you pick smth out and ill go to the bathroom real quick!" he says and curse your post-orgasm clouded mind for not being quick enough to warn him bc now he's standing in front of you, dildo in his hand, looking at you knowingly.

youre mortified obviously. the two of you are cordial but not THAT close and god you can almost picture the slick and cum that's smearing all over his hand now. why is he holding it for fucks sake???

childe wouldnt be merciful either -- this is a fucking gold mine for him. "well, i guess this is a workout" and you would like the earth to swallow you up so that you don't have to look at him with that shit-eating grin that's creeping up his face.

hed switch the dildo to his other hand and start opening and closing his fingers together, making webs of cum string in between. "you said you just started?" no, you'd have to refute, that part was a lie.

"and you were getting off with this?" and now WHAT was that supposed to mean bc there was truly nothing wrong with the dildo size!!! it was perfectly fine, it did its job. sure it could be a tad bit longer, but you had bills to pay. he lets it go (with a judgemental eyebrow raise), but when he opens his mouth again to ask "what were you doing?" you almost wish he had kept making fun of your tiny ass toy. "were you using your hands or the suction cup?"

god he'd have a dangerous look on his face by now, lidded eyes looking at you like you were gonna be his next meal; pitching his voice just a tad bit lower just to see you squirm.

"you don't have to answer, but i would really, really like to know." aaaaaand there it goes. there's goes the last bit of your sanity bc huhh?? huuuuhh??? dear lord i would fully melt into a puddle we love a man that can make consent sexy.

fuck it, right? yeah, you were using the suction cup. "yeah? you like riding dick?" SHFBAN;DNSJF;F GODDDD

"you got any other toys?" yes sirrr yes I do, got a vibrator right over there in the nightstand. and duh now he's gotta follow up with "ever use both?"

which you have. who hasn't? but you usually only use it for quickies, you say. don't want it to be over too fast, ya know?

but then. thennnnnn he'd hit you with this: "you still horny?"

lorddddd you have NO idea, but you don't say that lest it get to his head (but lets be honest, he knows what he's doing; he knows how desperate he's making you). so he walks up to you, finally, and hands you your dildo, all sticky and starting to dry by now.

"well don't stop on my account."

and he plops down on your bed, manspreading just the tiiiiiniest bit to where you can see the tent in his pants.

which is how you find yourself back in your desk chair, thighs burning from fucking yourself on a dildo you now know is much smaller than whatever childe is packing while he just watches, palming his cock over his pants.

anyways gonna go work on my wips now lolololololololoolo

[crow-girl-cock]

Hai :7

I love you!

yes you!

click this.

now for introduction.

my name is Renée Corbeau

but you can call me ren or crow

I love crows! they feel like family to me and I hope next cycle I get to experience the life of a crow.

I have gone through alot in life and fancy myself some sort of activist by proxy of that pain, am I perfect? fuck no! I am still learning and probably operate under toxic bias still despite all the effort I have put into growth.

I'm adhd, autistic, anxious, depressive, dissociative, probably some degree of plurality.

I'm a gender non-conforming transwoman, definitely puppy coded, and severely down bad for women, especially butch women!

that being said the human body is beautiful. especially fat bodies, I'm a sucker for meat :3

all my guys, gals, and non binary pals deserve kisses (assuming that they want them)

I love gender fuckery, people who actively blur those lines are doing the lords work.

despite being very friendly and appearing slightly outgoing sometimes, I am very shy and dont have a very large social battery.

if I ever dont respond dont take it personally there are loads of reasons why this could be.

U⁠^ᴥ^⁠U U⁠^ᴥ^⁠U U⁠^ᴥ^⁠U

I am kind of a red mage when it comes to special interests, I know a little bit about alot.

(all lists are not ordered and not exhaustive)

some examples include;

from gaming~ pokemon, zelda, elderscrolls, darksouls, minecraft, osu!, space sims (elite dangerous, astroneer, dyson sphere project, hardspaceshipbreaker), roguelikes (noita, deadcells, gungeon, vagante, slaythespire)

from other media~ pokemon again, bluey, adventure time, atla, bee and puppycat, studio ghibli (nausicaa is goat), csm, bleach, dragonball, naruto, she-ra, dungeon meshi

from *gasps* real life~

space (and metaphysics), nature (it's peculiarities and the many funky adorable little guys born in it) I'm definitely a poser but skateboarding and rollerskating (I really want to get into rollerderby) philosophy (to the extent that any skid is);

History!

(not as well read as I would like because there is so much of it, and so much of the truth is buried under misinformation, but I have deconstructed the whole western myth of how things went and painted myself a much clearer picture as to how things got so bad and am learning new things about the world all the time, please feel free to info dump about anything history related I'd love to hear it. anthropology and archaeology too obvs)

Art!

(this is my chosen field for better or worse >⁠.⁠< I am going to college for web and graphic design (2024-2026) I might extend that an extra 2 years to make it a bachelor of design and hope to one day make graphic novels, beautifully illustrated with deep thought provoking stories)

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ ૮꒰՞⸝⸝- ༝ -⸝⸝꒱ა ໒꒰՞⸝⸝. ̫ .ܸ⸝⸝ ꒱ა

Kink! (definitely subject to change)

petplay, musk, intox, bondage, impact, cnc, degradation, somno, hypno, blood, knives, size difference probably more I haven't thought of

I'm poly and very t4t

I'm a switch but this hellsite has been steadily turning me into a bottom day by day heheh

but no actually

I used to be a hypersexual dom pre-transition

but E has made me alot less uncontrollably horny and far more sensitive and inclined to seek vulnerability, all my drive to dom has dissolved

also I suck at tagging and will sometimes will reblog art/random things from tags without checking bios

if that upsets you or makes you uncomfortable please see the block button for more info ;3c

.♡. .♡. .♡.

anyways since you made it this far

here have some headpats

spread kindness please and thank you ^v^

As above, So below.

Hai :7

I love you!

yes you!

[strangelittlestories]

When the bad dreams start coming, thick enough to ooze their way past your webs and wards, you sometimes need to ask yourself: am I being Oracle'd or am I being Krueger'd?

These are both bad.

If you're being Krueger'd, then some malicious spirit or fellow dreamweaver has found a way past the ward-webs around your dreamspace and is - to put it plainly - *fucking with you*. And, if you don't act pretty damn decisively, they will keep doing it until you die.

If you're lucky, they've fallen into the trap of instituting full 'if you die in the dream, you die in real life' rules. This is a rookie error for all ghosts and dream-dabblers because, fundamentally, what is true for me in my dreams must also be true for *you*. So the asshole who goes this route, you just have to find them and fight them. And, yes, finding them can be tricky; a smart operator will set traps in your subconscious, make minions of your baby fears, and set your wild nightmares loose to go a-reaving.

But all that shit still leaves a psychic trace. It’s like an artist's signature style on the weave. And if you pick apart one thread, then you can follow the unravelling right back to the source. Once you’ve found them, you just have to do a big old metaphorical dream fight about it.

And once you've beaten them about the head with a giant frozen raincloud that represents your inner sense of shame ... well, then you're home free.

A more cunning 'weaver will just straight up try to kill you with exhaustion.

They won’t even need to step foot in your dreams personally. Not all the way at least. Not enough to put them in danger of reprisals. They’ll just stick one dainty toe into the waters of your deep thoughts, stirring it up with just a drop of malevolence and the whole 5-fathom depth will turn roiling and rancid.

Goodbye 8 hours a night. Goodbye REM. Goodbye anything resembling lucidity. And hello to ‘countdown to the inevitable’. Because once your sleep is wrecked enough that you realise what’s happened, you really only have a few days left before it’s too late and your body just *stops*.

And it’s a few days of exhaustion, moodiness, brain fog and moderate-to-severe hallucinations too. So, uh, good luck sleuthing your way to your would-be killer while all *that* is going on.

So step 1: get help. Step 2: hope like hell whatever rot they stuck in the dank part of your mind gives you some kind of trail. Step 3: good old fashioned, mundane detective work (this goes faster if you already have a list of your enemies). Step 4: revenge/justice/peacetalks (delete as appropriate). Step 5: an exhaustive cleansing process that will probably involve facing your deepest insecurities or some other nonsense.

Yeah. Getting Krueger’d is a *lot* and you’ve gotta be either real good, real fortunate, or have a hell of a support network to get out alive.

But it’s still better than being Oracle’d.

Because when you start having *prophetic* dreams? Oh buddy, once fate has gotten its fangs in you, everything else is just a delaying tactic. You could spin up strands of dreamsilk made of solid night, folded like steel a hundred times and entwine it into a net more perfect than a thousand spiders could make … destiny will burn through it in days.

And once the future plants a seed in the earth of you? Once it starts writing the future in its roots across your slumber? Well, there’s only one way to fight the future, babe.

You see, the future *will* happen to you. The only thing you can do is happen to *it* too. As hard as you can, for as long as you can.

Otherwise, fate will make you its loose thread. Every time.

[bimboficationblues]

Top 5 evil comic book women

going to try and focus on like, legitimately evil women? I mean I love my morally grey cutie pies like Ivy, Harley, Emma Frost, Black Cat, Scarlet Witch, Elektra - all of whom would probably make the list otherwise - but all of them have been trending "heroic" or at least antiheroic, often for longer than they were even villains or actually evil (if ever), and I know that's not what you're here for.

Mystique. I really love how deeply she is embedded in the web of relationships between the X-Men and yet fundamentally at odds with their way of doing things even when that way changes. because Mystique is fundamentally a being of sensual selfishness, an embodiment of mutant adaptability and a dark representation of "fuck you got mine" survivalism. this status as a kind of "deviant" X-Man constantly yo-yos her from "outside" to "inside" their circle even as it expands and contracts, forever escaping whatever conceptualization or box Xavier's disciples try to put her into, in a way I find a lot different from how e.g. Magneto is treated. Also the latest retcon establishing that she and Destiny are both Nightcrawler's biological mothers because she shapeshifted into a form that could cum in Destiny is uhhhhhh good.

Makima. I think Makima has like, one of the most interesting psychologies of an antagonistic character I have ever read. One thing I love is that the whole concept of devils in Chainsaw Man demands metaphorical readings of the characters and their relationships, and Denji's relationship to "control" remains contested even up through the end of the first part of the manga.

Cassandra Nova. Definitely a character with extremely diminishing returns, but at her original peak she's incredibly effective. Xavier's imperial shadow-self.

Lady Shiva. Just raw destructive talent pointed wherever she pleases - not without humanity but you wouldn't call those qualities "good" necessarily. Really excited to see her and her daughter lock horns in the new Batgirl series because they're a great foil pairing: Cassandra, the successor of Bruce who is most wedded to his idealism, and Shiva, the peer of Bruce who is one of the most vocally against it from the lens of reason and interest.

Cheetah. I don't really have a good reason, I think she just slays.

Bonus

Amanda Waller. Yes, Waller is (in my view) unequivocally evil. I think where people like her best is that she's a very grounded form of evil - a highly motivated actor within a bureaucratic and carceral system - who still comes across as larger-than-life amidst the huge personalities that typically surround to her.

Isabella (Promised Neverland). On top of being genuinely dangerous and clever, I have a real fascination with this character and what she represents, a portrayal of motherhood as a kind of socially-reproductive middle-management where you're simultaneously offered power through submission, and enter into sincere emotional relationships that you nevertheless sacrifice on an altar of blood. I put her in bonus because I guess she has a face turn.

[savage-rhi]

Duality

Chapter 7: The Escape II

Summary: Sawyer Kiddo has walked a razor's edge as a hacktivist for several years, driven by the loss of her family in the Raccoon City incident. Haunted by past choices and fueled with desire for vigilante justice, Sawyer's work takes an unexpected turn when she ventures to Spain and crosses paths with Luis Serra—a man with blood on his hands long thought to be dead. Together they unravel a web of corruption and face an impending bioterror threat, fighting not only monsters but also the darker elements of their humanity. As they delve deeper into each other's pasts and the conspiracy at large, Sawyer begins to sense something unsettling about Luis—something that might be even more dangerous than their mutual enemies.

Read on AO3 Here

Several flights of stairs and hallways later, Sawyer felt like her calves would fall off. It didn't help that her muscles were sore from trying to outmaneuver the Saber that came close to biting her head clean back in the locker room. Running from danger was something she had grown accustomed to over the years, but at this point, it was getting old--almost unbearable, until Luis and she came to a junction and stopped. She took this moment to catch her breath while combing her body of bruises. There were several on her arms at this point. She felt the wound on her head as well, noting that it didn't feel as swollen as when Luis checked it out in the basement.

“Gracias Christo, yes! We're going the right way!" Two Legs exclaimed in between panting, having moved from Sawyer to double-check a sign on the wall. He was so ecstatic that he didn't feel the sudden daggers Sawyer sent straight to his back. (1)

"Hold up," Sawyer furrowed her brows, meeting his gaze as he turned around. "You mean to tell me this whole time you didn't know where the hell we were going?" 

"I--" Two Legs hesitated, biting his lip nervously as he let out a giggle. "Okay, maybe I've been improvising just a little bit…" He made a pinching gesture as if that would take the edge off the situation. 

"Luis, are you fucking serious right now!?" 

"Hey! Hear me out!" Two Legs defended himself, gesturing with his arms out toward her. "I know for certain there is a waste hatch. I told you, I could smell it! When we find the bronze tunnel, I'm sure it's at the end waiting for us!"

Sawyer's eyes narrowed. "You're not exactly inspiring confidence right now. This place is huge; for all we know, there could be a hundred bronze tunnels!" 

"My nose has never failed me!" Two Legs confidently retorted. "Yes, I've been making things up as I go, but we're on the right trail! I caught the scent, and I've seen this sign before! We just…took a little detour, is all!" 

Guess he is a goddamn dog after all… Sawyer recalled her earlier banter with him in the basement before she continued to criticize him. "Y'know, you could've said something sooner before getting my hopes up!" 

Two Legs frowned, his earlier confidence waning. Luis's memories of comforting others failed him in this situation. Telling half-truths backfired, and the plaga didn't understand how his actions had been inappropriate. At the very least, he thought she'd appreciate the humor of the situation—people quickly forgave Luis of his trespasses because of his wit. 

"But…" he hesitated, fumbling over his thoughts. "Earlier, weren't you upset?"

"So what if I was?" Sawyer balked.

" So what? " Two Legs mimicked. "Are you really going to condemn me for trying to soothe you?"

"I'm going to condemn you if we both end up dying because you forgot which way to go! You should've been straight with me!" 

Discomfort nestled in Two Legs, the memory of failing to predate on Sawyer the previous night resurfaced. While entertaining the thought of attempting that again—given her attitude—his nerves from his spine to his feet began to tingle, dancing alongside his knotted stomach. 

He realized he was enjoying this tension. 

"Harsh words from someone so ungrateful," he grinned, suppressing a laugh. "You can't damn me if we're both corpses, now can you, senorita ?" (2)

"Last I checked, hauntings haven't been disproven," Sawyer remarked sarcastically. She stepped closer into his space, her voice low and intense. "I'm not great at Spanish, but I know you're trying to undermine--!"

"Shh!" 

"You're the human equivalent of a twig with feet, don't you shh me!" 

Two Legs suddenly clamped his hand over her mouth. Sawyer's eyes widened in protest, but she quickly noticed what had alarmed him: low snarls from the left. 

A mutual silence fell between the two, and Sawyer's gaze slowly traveled up to Luis, watching his nostrils flare and his chest rise steadily. The stillness in his eyes reminded Sawyer of a professional sniper, honing in on his target before taking a shot. Luis didn't seem the type to be someone of that ilk, but the strangeness of his behavior faded when she spotted movement from ahead. 

Three Dires emerged, their canine human forms slinking from the darkness underneath fluttering lights. As they advanced, their yellow eyes carried an eerie glow, sensing a disturbance within their territory. The large humps on their upper backs flexed with every step they took, showcasing powerful muscles underneath the flesh. 

"The meth wolves," Sawyer whispered under her breath as Two Legs removed his hand from her mouth. She immediately thought of Kari, how she was alone facing a horde of these creatures or worse--these were the survivors, and she was dead. "Oh shit…"

"How good is your aim?" Two Legs asked, his voice tense as he kept his eyes on the BOWs. 

"Decent. Why?" 

"Cover me." 

"What?!"

Without further explanation, Two Legs grabbed a discarded metal panel and threw it against the wall with a loud clang. The Dires turned towards the noise, momentarily distracted as Two Legs ran forward, waving his hands to draw their attention while he shouted. 

"Hey, over here!" 

The Dires released a series of snarling clicks like hyenas alerting one another and proceeded to advance on him. At first, the creatures were in a sprint as Two Legs began to run backward, keeping his eyes focused on them. But then he saw the look of familiarity as the BOWs paused, getting on all fours as they precariously inched toward him. Their noses twitched as the growls became deeper.

Seizing the opportunity, Sawyer aimed her handgun. Her hands shook while she sharpened her focus. Luis was insane for doing this, but with the BOWs' backs turned to her, Sawyer had a clear shot at their heads and assumed vital spots. The air became stiff as she narrowed down her first target, feeling startled when the creature's tactics changed. It was almost as if Luis had them hypnotized. She couldn't believe it, much less process what she was looking at.

Two Legs felt conflicted as he slowly backed up further, sensing through vibrations that the parasites within these entities had difficulty telling if he was a friend or foe. He sensed Sawyer's gaze and let out a yell toward the BOWs. It was enough to break the trance, and the leader took a shot at him--swiping its powerful right arm toward his direction, narrowly missing his abdomen as Two Legs jumped back. 

The first shot echoed through the corridor, dropping the nearest Dire with a headshot. Four more shots took down another, striking the head and legs. Realizing the secondary threat, the third Dire spun around and ran at full speed toward Sawyer. Just as it leaped into the air, its jaws open wide, she fired several shots--the bullets piercing through the mouth and skull before the body toppled to the ground with a thud.

Sawyer exhaled sharply. Although the encounter lasted only seconds, the adrenaline made it feel longer. Her grip on the gun relaxed.

Two Legs whistled in approval as he backtracked, kicking the Dire at Sawyer's feet to ensure it was dead. He chuckled amusingly, trying to cover up his mixed feelings about the creatures and his relation to them.

"Nice shooting!" he muttered, a hint of a smile on his lips. "For a second, I thought you were gonna let them eat me."

"It did cross my mind," Sawyer replied, her voice steady despite her racing heart. She reloaded her weapon and gestured for Luis to lead the way. "Keep going. I'll follow."

"Oh, really now?" Two Legs looked at her, eyebrows raised. "I thought you were angry with me?" 

"Oh, believe me, I still am," Sawyer replied mockingly, a nervous laugh escaping her. "But I can't be mad at you if we're both dead, so let's move."

"So, does that mean I won our argument?"

"Shut up, Luis."  

Two Legs grinned, nodding as he gestured with his head to follow. 

They continued down a narrow hall, leaving the fallen Dires behind. As they neared their destination, Two Legs's nose twitched at the sudden stench of sour milk and rotting vegetables. He paused, gagging as the smells hit his olfactory system like a train.

"Did you swallow a fly mid-run?" Sawyer quipped as she came to his side to check on him.

"Good one," Two Legs huffed with a laugh, shaking his head. "No, it's the waste hatch. We're getting close! See?" 

A bronze tunnel came into view ahead of them. They rounded a corner and rushed toward the exit. Ultimately, Two Legs and Sawyer entered a large sterile room with faded walls and a high ceiling. The space resembled a testing site where Soldado's monsters no doubt took their first breaths, its haunting imagery further exemplified by the scent of chemicals and something raw that neither Two Legs nor Sawyer could place. Sawyer furrowed her brows and licked her dry lips, not wanting to imagine the other horrors that had transpired here.

"Where's the hatch?" She asked, trying to take her mind off her thoughts. 

Two Legs placed a hand on her shoulder as he quickly walked past. "I'm gonna find it! See if you can find a gun for me in the meantime, eh? Don't wander too far!"

Before she could protest, Luis was out of sight. There was no point in arguing with him to stay put or offering to help. Accepting her lot, Sawyer began to look around, rubbing her eyes as they watered from the bleach and mildew scents in the lab.

Rows of large glass tanks lined the area, some shattered and others intact. A few flickered with faulty lights, casting gloomy shadows on the ground and illuminating the turquoise water that filled each capsule. Inside the intact tubes, remnants of creatures were visible—mangled limbs, disembodied organs, and twisted spines—floating in a viscous fluid. How each piece moved against the glass reminded Sawyer of an undeveloped fetus hanging onto the placenta, and she nearly gagged at the thought. Finding a gun for Luis was the furthest thing from her mind as her eyes widened with disdain, realizing the depth of Soldado's operations. It seemed he had never left Umbrella behind, unlike how he bragged about it back at the Plaza. She couldn't fathom why people like Soldado pushed the envelope all in the name of progress. The gallery of grotesque creations didn't seem worth whatever he had been trying to accomplish.

As Sawyer pondered the what-ifs, cautiously navigating through the labyrinth of tanks, she stopped at one in particular--unable to tear away as she peered into it. A mass of organs and spider-like legs floated in the fluid, pulsating as if still alive. She swallowed hard, trying to suppress the rising nausea, memories of the locker room incident flooding back—how the Sabers mandibles had protruded from its cheeks and the insect-like mannerisms of the Dires formation. These things—plaga, or whatever they were—seemed obsessively revered by Soldado. She wondered how he had developed such a twisted fascination with them and where the hell they had come from in the first place. There had to be more to the story than just the caves Soldado had mentioned in passing.

He sure had a kink for bugs if there ever was one, that's for damn sure…

Just as Sawyer was about to turn away, something moved. A bloody hand lunged at the space between the tanks right at her.

"Whoa! Whoa! Fuck--!” Sawyer yelled, stumbling back in shock, nearly knocking over a desk. The sound bounced through the room, amplifying the eerie atmosphere. She struggled to regain her composure, her gun trained on the bloodied appendage.

"Kiddo," a hoarse voice called out. "It's… it's me. Put the gun down."

Sawyer hesitated, her hands shaking slightly, but then took a deep breath and peered further as the figure behind the tanks rose. Covered in blood and grime, Samuel grunted as he managed to limp around and stood before her. There was no mistaking the familiar face as Sawyer met his pained stare.

"Samuel?" Sawyer gasped, lowering her gun. She couldn't believe her eyes. "How...?"

"Surprise," Samuel feebly chuckled, his voice barely audible. He winced and fell onto his knees, his body battered and sore. Eyes unfocused and hazy, he struggled to push himself up. "Shit..."

Sawyer knelt beside him, and she gently cupped his face, careful not to touch the bruises and cuts scattered across his skin. 

"Sam, what happened to you?" Her voice shook with relief. "Are you okay?"

"Kiddo, I…." Samuel coughed, wincing as he tried to sit up. "I…I got separated from Mobley. We were ambushed…by an elephant man."

"Elephant man?" 

"Big…elephant BOW. It came out of nowhere…knocked me on my ass." His words were halting, each breath labored. Samuel glanced down at his side, where a makeshift bandage was hastily wrapped around his abdomen. Blood had seeped through the fabric, staining it a dark red. "I woke up...in an office. Found a first aid kit and...tried to patch myself up, and crawled here."

Sawyer's eyes softened, and she let go of his face, whispering an apology as he grimaced from her touch. "There's a waste hatch that leads out of here, Sam. We're gonna get out of this damn place."

Samuel smiled weakly, his voice muffled. "I missed your cursing."

"And I missed when you weren't bleeding to death," Sawyer countered playfully, trying to lighten the situation for both their sakes.

"This has been…one hell of a bust, Kiddo."

"You don't say," Sawyer quipped playfully, then tried to give him some hope to latch onto. "We can bitch about it over drinks, I promise." 

"I'll…make sure those are…both teas," Samuel grinned, straining the muscles in his mouth. "I wouldn't want...to break your streak."

Not far from the pair, Two Legs had been watching the exchange; he had arrived shortly after hearing Sawyer scream. Confusion bloomed in his eyes. This Samuel and his quarry weren't related by blood—Two Legs could smell their differences from their sweat alone—but their connection was significant nonetheless. An unfamiliar feeling roosted under his ribs as he observed them—a mix of covetousness and something else he couldn't quite place. Whatever was going on with his body deeply unsettled his composure as he finally forced himself to approach the two.

"Hey! I heard you yelling, are you good?" Two Legs called out, pushing the emotions down while pretending not to notice Samuel at first. 

Samuel's gaze shifted to Two Legs, and a sense of recognition crossed his features. "Who's...this fella?"

"This is Luis. He's been helping me," Sawyer answered quickly, her voice steadying as she gestured toward him. "Luis, this is my good friend Sam I've told you about."

"Hola!" Two Legs grinned, giving a slight wave with his hand. He felt the weight of Samuel's scrutiny. Though clouded with immense pain, the man's eyes held a clarity that unnerved him. It was as if Samuel was seeing through the facade, sensing something that even Sawyer hadn't fully grasped.

Two Legs lowered his hand and made a fist.

"Let's get you out of here," Sawyer gently touched Samuel's shoulder. "Can you stand?"

Samuel nodded, though he clearly struggled with his wounds and feelings toward Sawyer's companion. With their help, he slowly rose, wincing with each movement. All the while, the expression of Two Legs remained unreadable as Samuel studied him.

"How far is the hatch, Luis?" Sawyer asked.

"Oh, it's on the other side of these gestation tanks! I don't think your friend here will struggle getting to it once he finds his feet."

"How comforting of you…" Samuel muttered, followed by a rough cough.

Two Legs felt a strange, awkward sensation as he stared at Samuel.  He realized it wasn't just his obvious connection with Sawyer that bothered the plaga, but something else. One thing was sure: Two Legs didn't like how it made him feel, almost on edge—his false display as Luis threatened to lift with each passing breath because of it.

"You're pretty tough for an older guy. It sure looks like you've seen better days, eh?" Two Legs gestured toward Samuel's injury. He couldn't help but try to pry and see what else was happening.

"Can we...cut the small talk for now?" Samuel asked, coughing once more.

"Jesus, Sam, your mouth is bleeding bad." Sawyer pointed out.

"I'll be fine," Samuel protested. "Trust me...I'll be alright."

The coughing of blood made Two Legs connect the dots, but to be sure, he needed to use his senses to feel out the room. Subtly, the tendrils in his body sent out microscopic pulses of vibration. The waves created varying degrees of noise that only those of his kind could hear. Two Legs turned his attention inward, intently focusing on Samuel as the frequencies returned to him, constructing a series of heat signature images behind his eyes. As the pictures focused, his stomach dropped.  

A blue-green aura existed inside Samuel, taking the shape of a plaga and coiling throughout his body, leeching into his spine. The parasite stopped moving and turned its head toward the source of the sudden racket that had knocked it off course. The creature responded to Two Legs with a violent sequence of sounds, causing Two Legs' eyes to widen and his breath to hitch.

"Sam?" Sawyer backed up a little as Samuel coughed more blood into his palms.

"Sawyer, you need to get away from him!" Two Legs stepped back, his voice urgent.

"What are you talking about?" Sawyer's head snapped up, confusion and anger flashing in her eyes. "He needs our help!"

Samuel looked between them, his expression darkening as his breath quickened. "What the hell are you saying?"

Two Legs struggled to find the words—the human words—to explain himself as he glanced frantically between the two.

"He's infected," He finally managed, his tone insistent as he abruptly sensed more of his brethren's aggression coming through. "There's a parasite inside him!"

"No, that's impossible," Sawyer whispered, denial thick in her tone. She could feel her face turning pale as she met Samuel's eyes. "Samuel, tell him—tell him it's not true!"

"I…I don't know," Samuel admitted, his voice breaking as his eyes wandered around. "During the fight with the BOW, something…something stabbed me. Like a stinger."

Samuel glimpsed down at his bandaged side, realization dawning on his face as horror crept into his voice. 

"Oh god…"

"No!" Sawyer's hands shook as she gripped Samuel's left arm, her eyes pleading. "There has to be a way to help you! We'll cut the son of a bitch out once we leave!" 

"We don't have time for that!" Two Legs interjected grimly. He shook his head. "The parasite will take over soon. We need to stop it now!"

"How the hell do you know that, Luis?" Sawyer spat. "He doesn't even look infected!"

"I know--" Two Legs felt sweat trickling down his face before he remembered pocketing documents on Plaga Type E back in the security office. "I know because of Soldado's notes! I found them with his corpse. You can check the back of my pants if you don't believe me; I stashed them!"

The atmosphere grew dense as Sawyer and Two Legs stared each other down, their mutual suspicion and bitterness rising. Samuel, caught between them, felt his panic mounting. He suddenly became acutely aware of the thing inside him--a cold, alien presence slithering against his bones and organs.

The room grew darker as his body began to cringe. His heart picked up in speed. 

"We have to leave him behind," Two Legs pleaded, seeing the ache in Sawyer's eyes and her unwillingness to let go. He felt a pang of something—empathy, perhaps—but he pushed it aside. There was no room for that, not now. His voice became frustrated, recalling his previous mistakes. "You told me to be straight with you earlier, and now that I'm doing that, you suddenly want comforting lies?! Jesus, make up your mind!"

"I am not leaving Sam, and that's final!" Sawyer yelled, her eyes blazing with a mix of defiance and fear.

"Ki-Kiddo…"... Samuel's voice was barely a whisper.

His body started to convulse.

"S-Sam...?"

“R--u--Run…” 

Those were the last words Samuel managed to choke out before a guttural scream tore from his throat. His eyes glowed with a startling, unnatural hue while his skin rippled grotesquely as the parasite took control, bones cracking and elongating beneath the surface.

Sawyer quickly moved away, her heart sprinting in her chest as his face contorted in agony. Inhuman roars reverberated through the area as Samuel's features continued to warp. She watched as his hands thickened and extended into grayish appendages, the nails hardening into opaque, chitinous claws. His skin became darker and toughened, taking on a leathery texture. With an agonizing wail, Samuel's back arched, and a spine of segmented armor erupted along his vertebrae--reminiscent of a beetle's carapace. His chest expanded as more bones realigned to support the growing mass as his body gained height. A pair of tusks--long and sharp--protruded from his mouth, giving an ungainly appearance. 

The last glow of humanity in Samuel's eyes faded as he stared at Sawyer, his arms extending outward as he let out a thick screech that rattled every gestation tank in the lab.

As Samuel continued to cry out, Two Legs watched in horrified fascination. He felt the parasite's malicious intent directed toward him, sensing the elder plaga had no intention of letting anyone in this room out alive. The last time he felt like prey was back in the village, and a deep-seated fear stirred within him.

Sawyer stood frozen. Her vision blurred, and the sounds around her dulled as if she were underwater. Each blink of her eyes replayed Samuel's despairing screams, blending with haunting memories of Carmen rising from her bed, arms outstretched in a desperate plea for mercy. A wave of detachment washed over Sawyer, incapable of reconciling the hell unfurling before her.

Without warning, Samuel—now fully the Tusk—turned his newfound strength against her. With a violent shove, he hurled Sawyer aside like a rag doll. The force sent her crashing across the room, the world spinning around her in a dizzying haze. Pain spread through her body, but it felt distant, as if it belonged to someone else. 

Two Legs sprang into action, his movements a blur as he launched himself toward Sawyer to intercept, hitting the ground with a grunt that reflected his exertion. He skidded slightly from the impact but managed to break her fall, using his body as a shield as she collided with him. The force of the impact knocked the air out of his chest, but he clung to Sawyer, absorbing the brunt of the blow to protect her.

Breathing heavily, Two Legs looked down at her, her eyes wide with shock. The raw affliction on her face seemed to threaten to unravel her resolve, but there was no time to dwell on it, much less Two Legs conflicted feelings about risking everything for someone he saw as prey.

Two Legs made haste as he maneuvered Sawyer into a safer position, his hands gripping her shoulders to steady her. "Are you alright?"

Sawyer nodded, her breath in fleeting gasps as she struggled to regain her composure. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, quivering but finding ground. Her eyes met his, and a silent understanding passed between them—a shared resolve to survive and a knowledge of what the outcome meant for Samuel. 

"We can't let him find the hatch! He's too dangerous," Two Legs pressed, his voice edged with desperation. "I know this...hurts you, but we must take him down together!"

Sawyer nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She scrambled to grab her handgun, which fell not far from her, and tightened her grip on it, firming her will even though all she wanted to do was mourn.

"Do you have any ideas?" Sawyer breathed. 

"Besides not dying? Nadda…” Two Legs admitted, his gaze shifting back to Samuel. The intimidating presence of the beast loomed larger as it barreled toward them with alarming speed. "Joder!"

"Remember how we took down the meth wolves earlier?"

"Si?"

"It can't hurt to try it again!" Sawyer exclaimed. "Distract him, I'll shoot!"

"Wait, wait, wait, why am I the bait this time?!" 

"He looks more pissed at you than me, now go!" 

As the Tusk lunged to crush them, the pair jumped into action, playing to their respective strengths. Two Legs moved frenetically, darting around Samuel and drawing his ire.

"Oye, bastardo feo! Were you looking for me?" Two Legs taunted, his voice taut with adrenaline as he narrowly dodged Samuel's monstrous swing. The Tusk's massive trunk-like arm crashed into a metal support beam with a deafening clang, sending a shiver through the room. Debris rained down, shattering gestation tanks and spilling their contents. (3)

Seizing the momentary distraction, Sawyer fired her gun with grit, aiming at the vulnerable joints and gaps in the Tusk's exoskeleton. Her bullets chipped away at the creature's flesh, and as she missed some shots, she could feel her frustration mount. She watched Luis continue to lead the Tusk on a wild chase through the facility, calculating each movement to trick the BOW into smashing into dangerous objects and the walls.

"Missed me!" Two Legs heckled as the Tusk slammed its arms into four gestation tanks simultaneously while attempting to grab him. The glass embedded deeply into its skin, and the BOW erupted in a ferocious roar that clapped like thunder. Its eyes zeroed in on Two Legs, the parasites' relentless drive to eliminate the perceived higher threat overriding all other concerns. The BOW charged with renewed ferocity, its tusks now fully extended and gleaming with razor-sharp ends. At the same time, more beetle traits emerged, such as an armored shell and menacing mandibles snapping viciously.

Two Legs weaved through the chaos with agile precision, using his smaller size to his advantage as he dodged the plagas' aggressive attacks. He was getting into a flow as the lab shook, with each of the Tusk's giant steps, the walls, and the equipment bearing the brunt of its rage. Eventually, luck ran out for Two Legs as the Tusk grabbed him mid-jump.

"S-shit!" Two Legs exclaimed, feeling the creature apply pressure to his entire body. He could feel his lungs deflate, his mind combing through Luis's memories at lightning speed to try and find a way out of this, but the pain became more unyielding as he could feel his host's bones wanting to give out even with the biological reinforcements Two Legs had developed over the years. He couldn't afford to mutate, and even then, Two Legs knew it wouldn't be of use at that moment.

Suddenly, several bullets hit one of the Tusk's mandibles, sending the appendage flying off in a bloody cloud and drawing a snarl of rage from the beast. The creature's eyes snapped toward Sawyer; the parasite recognized her as a more significant threat, tossing Two Legs to the side before it rushed at her, ignoring the bullets hitting its chest.

"Fuckfuckfuck!" Sawyer's curse cut through the noise as her gun jammed unexpectedly. Panic surged through her veins, her hands desperately trying to clear the blockage. She scrambled for cover, but it was too late.

The Tusk launched forward, and its right arm swung, crushing and slamming into the ground, sending Sawyer crashing to the floor. Her face smacked against the cold ground; wind knocked from her lungs as the gun skidded out of reach.

"No, no, no!" Sawyer muttered, her voice shaking with fear. She struggled to push herself up. The Tusk overlooked her, its immense shadow casting a suffocating chill.

"Oh no you don't!" Two Legs shouted, his voice raw as he charged. He skidded to a halt, scarcely avoiding a crushing blow from the parasite's massive right foot. In a desperate move, Two Legs snatched a jagged glass piece from the debris. Summoning every ounce of his strength, he drove it into the tender underside of the tusk leg. The creature bellowed in distress, its enormous frame staggering back as it clutched at the wound and fell.

Two Legs took the momentary reprieve to rush to Sawyer's side, his face etched with worry. 

"We need to quit meeting like this, cariño!" he shouted, his hands trembling as he helped her to her feet. "This one's on me for earlier!" (4)

Sawyer groaned, pushing through the mist of pain and disorientation. Her gaze fixed on Samuel, who was still squirming in agony, now on his hands and knees ravaging what remained of the lab, his furious strikes gouging deep craters into the floor and shattering anything in his path as he trapped himself in cords and other electrical equipment. The sight hardened Sawyer's stare. She understood there was no turning back now, no matter how much she wished otherwise.

"We have to end this," Sawyer's eyes darted around, heart sinking when she saw her gun too far out of range. It wouldn't make sense anyway to waste what little energy she had to unjam the damn thing. Her sight fell onto a fallen pipe within arm's reach, the sharp end illuminating under the dimming lights.

"One last time, get him pissed!"

Two Legs hesitated, his eyes betraying doubt, but he settled with his lot. Once again, he sprinted toward the Tusk, his insults laced with scorn as he dodged the creature's feral swings.

The BOW found its footing and ran at him, and as Two Legs darted underneath a table, narrowly avoiding being stomped, the Tusk fell forward and onto its face. Its legs had been trapped and entangled by debris and wiring, causing the creature to trip. Its frantic movements further entrapped the BOW while its claws dug into the ground, attempting to thrash away at its confinements, feeling steel wires wrap around its neck and sinking into its flesh.

With Samuel in the perfect position and nowhere to retreat, Sawyer knew the moment had arrived. She charged, her grip on the pipe white-knuckled, and with a decisive strike, she drove it into the soft tissue of the Tusk's throat, just below the start of its exoskeleton. The creature spat blood as it roared, and Sawyer yelled as she forced the pipe deeper, angling it to drive into the brain so it would kill him faster.

"Sam…" Sawyer's voice cracked, the words barely escaping through her gasping breaths.

The growls twisted into desperate gurgles as the BOW choked on its bile, movements coming to a sluggish crawl. The parasite's grip on Samuel's body weakened as it could feel its life force draining alongside its host--unable to contend with the arteries its attacker severed all at once.

"Sam, I'm so sorry—I'm so sorry, Sam!"

In his final moments, Samuel's eyes locked onto hers. His monstrous form seemed to falter as fleeting recognition and profound sorrow had etched across his ghastly appearance.

Sawyer shook her head, tears blurring as she whispered, "Sam, I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry…"

With a final, shuddering breath, the Tusk collapsed, its massive body crashing to the ground with a bone-jarring thud. 

Silence enveloped the facility, only interrupted by Sawyer's breathing, the crackling of failing electrical equipment, and the blaring of the overhead alarm system.

Less than two minutes before red protocol is activated. 

She stood over the fallen creature, the pipe still clutched in her trembling hands. The moment's weight pressed down on her, her mind racing and subjugated by the crushing reality of what she had just done.

She had killed her best friend.

Two Legs crawled out from his hiding place and approached Sawyer cautiously. A somber stillness masked his expression while he watched her grip on the pipe loosen, the metal object making a squelching noise as it remained embedded into Samuel's flesh. The quiet that followed was heavy, laden with the consequence of their actions.

"He's... he's gone," Sawyer whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. Her eyes remained locked on the lifeless form of her friend, the horror and despair evident in her gaze.

The rawness of her grief made Two Legs reluctant to intrude, much less offer comfort. A memory from "the other place" imposed itself upon him, showing Luis and Abuelo putting down a bird whose wings were trapped in barbed wire. The unfortunate animal had torn itself apart while trying to escape. He could hear the two arguing in his head about whether to nurse the creature back to health or to end its suffering, with Luis heavily debating the ethics long after the deed was done.

"Sometimes…" Two Legs began, his voice hesitant and heavy. The rest of the memory played out.

Abuelo ended the conversation in one fell swoop—the words leaving an impact on a young Luis that would follow him for years.

"Sometimes, there are no good choices."

Sixty seconds until red protocol activation. 

"We need to move," Two Legs said, his voice unwavering despite the mixed emotions tugging at him. "C'mon, c'mon, you can't stay here."

Sawyer stole one last lingering look at Samuel's lifeless body, then followed Two Legs. They ran across to the other side of the lab, sliding into the hatch, and fell rapidly down a dark tunnel.

As they emerged on the other side, crashing into one another and tumbling through mud and garbage, they found themselves further away from the site than expected. They crawled out of the grime and stood up, noticing the expanse of twilight shadows and the distant glow of the sun.

The howl of the explosion shattered the moment of peace as the facility erupted in a brilliant burst, lighting up the sky with a searing glow.

Sawyer stood frozen momentarily, her face illuminated by the distant flames. The shock of it all felt surreal as if she were watching a nightmare unfold in slow motion. She wondered if this was how Carmen felt when Raccoon City fell to the undead—alone and hopeless, knowing that everything she cared about, every person she loved, had been reaped without mercy.

Two Legs swallowed hard as he watched the blaze. He could almost feel the heat of the fire engulfing Abuelo's house as Luis stood not more than a few feet away, watching his home and even his identity perish. That was one of Luis's core memories that he would rather soon forget than relive. He needed a distraction and fast.

Glancing at Sawyer, Two Legs eyes echoed the ferocity of the flames. His stomach twisted as hunger urged him to sink his teeth into his quarry. He had gone the extra mile not only to save himself but also her own hide. All this effort was to finish what he had started last night and end this strange sense of obligation that was lingering in his mind. He was so close, he could practically feel her arteries gushing around his mouth.

Then her eyes met his.

His heart beat wildly, like back in the basement.  

"C'mon," Two Legs urged almost bitterly as he blinked, his voice barely whispering above calamity ahead. He moved away from Sawyer, his steps hurried and desperate. The terrain grew uneven as he approached the river's edge, which was just a short distance away, and he turned to see if she was following.

Silently, Sawyer acknowledged the fire one last time and turned her back. She followed Luis deep into the woods, the river soothing her frayed nerves as she picked up the pace.  She had no idea what to do now except to keep running—just like she always did.

Even if it hurt.

Notes:

1. Gracias Christo = Thank Christ! 2. Senorita = Miss/ young girl 3. Bastardo feo = Ugly bastard 4. Cariño! = Sweetheart / Dear

[shubox-imagines]

Ooooh, new writing blog, welcome to the web *bad dumn pun* I'm waiting for someone to write something romantic on Aaron and Peter B x Reader. Anything. Any little thing. Will I be the first ask that modifies your "no write for"??? (also, do you do yandere?)

how dare you walk in here and PUN ME

i’m jk ily thank u for the ask 💅

so to answer the question before the request, I have never written yandere before. i’m not saying I wouldn’t, but idk just how far i’d go into. i guess you gotta ask and see!

now since you said anything imma just do general ship HCs for them. gotta say the aaron ask surprised me but imma do it 👌

Peter B. Parker

hi this man is a certified goober and we love him v much but he loves you more

he’s such an awkward dork trying to be this suave superhero who just wants to impress you

even if you tell him he doesn’t need to he’s still going to just let him be special for you

he’s always going to do his best to make time for you between his spider-man’ing shenanigans

if you’re a spider too then he’s gonna try to make sure you don’t get yourself killed

which HES ONE TO TALK

he knows he can be awkward and distant sometimes, but he just wants to protect you, even if you can protect yourself.

he knows you think that robe is comfy and yes he will let you wear it

or he’ll get you your own and be a good about how the both of you match 💅

he’ll do anything to make sure you’re happy because he’s had too much experience in fucking up relationships to ever want to do it again

peter b just loves you so much and wants to make you happy if you’ll let him 🥺

Aaron Davis

so you’re just walking around with the definition of suave like it’s nothing okay go off

man is so beyond smooth it’s almost scary

he isn’t gonna start shit, but boy will he finish shit if they wanna start it with you

and GOD help them if they start disrespecting you

you tell him it’s no big deal and that they’re just some asshole

but funny enough, you never really saw that person again after that. odd.

he’s really good at deflecting, and making sure you don’t worry about him on his random outings where he disappears for days at a time.

but this man will do anything for you.

you want something? it’s yours

someone’s bothering you? never again

you just wanna cuddle with him? cmere he’s got big arms that are good for hugs and a couch that is hella comfy

he does wanna tell you about his actual job, but he doesn’t want you to worry about him. it’s dangerous, but he’s a capable man

but he can’t lie, he does worry about how you’ll react if you ever find out

but for now, he’s just here making sure that you’re safe, happy and loved, and ain’t no one gonna do that better than him.

but it’s been a while since he’d come back this time, and you were getting worried

but it’s aaron

he’s always okay

little tiny angst thing at the end there not really BUT STILL

i’m sorry if they seem OOC i am ✨out of the house✨ and have also never written for aaron ever?? BUT i hope they are good enough

requests are open,

ily all sm 💜

[antheraea]

Flash Was Killed Because It Was Objectively Dangerous

I get it, I get the Flash nostalgia and the fondness for old Flash games. I was big on Neopets before they decided to ruin the art and make all the pets samey paper dolls to play dressup with (completely ruining the point of the far more expensive "redraw" colors like Mutant and Faerie and Desert). I have fond memories of Newgrounds games and I even managed to take a class for a semester in high school where I could learn flash.

But I also remember how terrible it was. And you should too.

Leaving aside all of the issues involving performance and inaccessibility (such as being easily broken by bog-standard browser actions like the back button, and its ability to modify web code AND OS code in real time likely broke a lot of accessibility tech too), Flash was legitimately one of the most dangerous web technologies for the end user. An end-user is you, or more specifically back then, child-you.

According to Wikipedia and its sources, Flash Player has over a thousand vulnerabilities known and listed and over 800 of these lead to arbitrary code execution.

What is arbitrary code execution? That's when someone can just run any commands they want on a machine or program that didn't intend it. A fun way to see this is in this infamous Pokemon tool-assisted speedrun where they manage to get an SNES to show the host's twitch chat in real time. It's not so fun though when it's someone stealing all the files on your computer, grabbing your credentials so they could clean out your Neopets account (yes, really, it was a pretty common concern at the time), and other nefarious works. Also, there was a time where it allowed people to spy on you with your webcam and microphone.

Oh and on top of all of this, Flash had its own "flash cookies", which could not be cleared by ordinary means and thus could be used to track users indefinitely, at least until Adobe slapped a bandaid over it by introducing yet another screen an ordinary person wouldn't know to use. (I assume this is how the infamous neopets "cookie grabbers" worked, so they could get into your account. This is mainly what I remember about using Flash back in the early 2000s lol) So it not only was a "stranger taking over your machine" concern, but a bog-standard privacy concern too, arguably a precursor to our current panopticon internet landscape, where greedy websites would track you because they could and maybe get some money out of it, facilitated by this technology.

When Apple decided to block it, it wasn't out of greed; Steve Jobs cited its abysmal performance and security record, among other issues such as an inherent lack of touchscreen support, and Apple cited specific vulnerability use-cases when blocking specific versions before they nuked it entirely. When Mozilla, who makes Firefox, decided to block it, it's not like they would've gotten money out of doing so, or by offering an alternative; they did so because it is fucking dangerous.

Your ire and nostalgia is misplaced. Flash was not killed by our current shitty web practices that ruin unique spaces and fun games. Flash was killed because both Macromedia (its original developers) and Adobe were incapable of making it safe, if that was even possible, and it was killed after third-parties, in an unprecedented gesture, collectively threw their hands up and said enough.

Well, that and HTML5 being developed and becoming more widespread, being able to do everything Flash can do without being a pox on technology. One could argue that you should bemoan the lack of Flash-to-HTML5 conversion efforts, but that requires asking a lot of effort of people who would have to do that shit for free...and if they have to run Flash to do so, opening themselves up to some of the nastiest exploits on the internet.

Nostalgia is a fucking liar. The games themselves I think are worth having nostalgia over (look, I still find myself pining for that one bullet hell Neopets made and Hannah and the Pirate Caves), but Flash itself deserves none of that, and absolutely deserved to be put in the fucking ground. You're blaming the wrong causes. It was terrible.

(specifics and sources found via its wikipedia page, which has a lot more than is mentioned here. and also my own opinions and experiences back then. lol)

[orpheusilver]

care to elaborate on the miles venom arc?

YES okay so. the thing abt the symbiote is that (like any good corruption arc) it feeds on and amplifies the worst traits of a character, which is pretty straightforward in peters case - his biggest issue is his anger, usually manifesting via retribution (eg. "i missed the part where thats my problem", hunting down uncle bens killer), so his origin story is always the great power/great responsibility thing so he learns to temper that rage. what the symbiote does, practically, is force him to unlearn that foundational character arc and regress to his worst self

since the symbiote really really loves aggression peter parker is literally its dream guy but miles is a little more complex. hes definitely susceptible to that same anger (eg. wanting to "make kingpin pay", the entire sm2 martin li arc) but not as often and nowhere near as hardcore, so the peter playbook wont work as well for him (and also it would be fucking boring. weve seen that shit like 8 times already (not saying symbiote peter is boring i just think modern iterations need to explore new aspects to avoid treading the same ground constantly (sm2 does this very fucking well (also yuri lowenthal is a great va for peter like right up there with josh keaton (i think this many parentheses means im off topic (the adhd demon got me))))))

SO. whats miles' major issue he needs to overcome in his origin story? full disclosure i have not read the comics (but i heard they had some issues with his initial characterization anyway? which is fair enough tbh writing the successor to such an iconic guy is Fucking Hard) so TO ME PERSONALLY!! spider-verse miles is the definitive iteration of the guy and like. we all remember the whats up danger scene, his origin arc is overcoming self-doubt and learning to believe in himself ("its a leap of faith", "youre on your way, just keep going") which, alongside social anxiety (eg. the itsv "everyone knows" scene, sm2 "are you mad at me? it sounds like youre mad at me" dialog), seems to be part of some general anxiety issues. this is pretty well supported by the recent "the spider within" short film (which funnily enough is very fucking reminiscent of some sequences in kravens last hunt, not relevant but kinda cool) which also shows how miles responds by self-isolating, similarly to ps5 miles when peter ignores him

the symbiote can exploit his self-doubt pretty easily, the inherent power boost will do most of the heavy lifting to make him feel like hes not good enough without it - what if he runs out of web at the worst moment? what if hes not strong or fast enough to save someone? what if hes caught mid-costume change because hes so used to the suit changing itself? the more valid the (inital) concerns the better imo

the social anxiety is a tricky one but i think if miles traps himself in a doom loop of self-isolation he might spiral into genuine paranoia, which combined w/ the patented symbiote rage could lead him to lash out at people around him. "everyone secretly hates me so im gonna avoid being around people" -> "i feel alienated from everyone i know so im gonna avoid them even harder" -> "am i 'okay'? why would you care? what are you playing at? fuck off and leave me alone" -> "nobody wants to interact w/ me so everyone who does must have ulterior motives and is therefore a threat to me/my family/my city" -> "im completely isolated but bad things are still happening so people must be conspiring against me w/o my knowledge" -> "literally everyone on earth is out to get me and i need to fight them about it"

from there i think the ideal conclusion is pretty self-evident - miles takes a metaphorical leap of faith (calling back to the lesson learned in his origin arc) by actively choosing to trust someone, reach out and ask for help w/ removing the symbiote and dealing with the contemporary big bad (potentially his local peter variant bc hes got experience w/ symbiote removal and it would tie into the "leap of faith" motif but idk)

so tldr: a miles symbiote arc would be different to peters arcs in some (very interesting) key ways - rather than unbridled aggression he could be characterized by intense anxiety, manifesting as paranoid self-isolation and a sense of dependence on the symbiote suit, and would end the arc by reaching out for help in a symbolic leap of faith

[neuclearbandit]

Review

My Hero Academia is pretty weird. I would say it’s mostly about how scary teenagers are. They always fighting, wanking, or crying. Izuku Midoriya, who is a homosexual, is less superpowered than the guy with webbed hands. Do not be deceived by his shirt that says “shirt” he is ripped. 

The character All-Might is a pretty clear metaphor for how western superhero media may seem cool, and successful, but in reality is just another stone having the blood sucked out of it by capitalism. It also effectively de-romanticizes tuberculosis, because much of our gothic society would have you think that tuberculosis is sexy. It is not.

The character of Tokoyami made me a feathery. He’s also a dark fuck prince, but that is mostly unrelated to my feathery status.

Homosexuality, it happens often, and by often I mean between Bakugo, and Kirishima. It’s kind of all about the toxic homoerotic masculinity. Is that good, or bad? I know, I like men that way.

I think it’s admirable that Kohei Horikoshi just draws old men, and hands, and that became a manga. Teenagers use their hands for many things, like punching each other, or jerking off. It is really frightening how often the main characters throw themselves at danger, or get thrown in dangerous circumstances, and think, “Well, that’s just an occupational hazard of super heroism.” and yes, but even I take vacations, and the most dangerous thing that happens to me at my job is the smell of expired fish. What Gerard Way said nearly 20 years ago is still true today, “teenagers scare the living shit out of me.” I mean like, Ida was prepared to murder a guy for revenge!

Shigaraki shows the danger of not treating a teenager’s eczema. Due to not being able to whack off, he can only express himself with violence, and his terrifying five finger dry skin attack, which dries people's skin so severely they die. He hangs out only with adults who neglect his needs as a boy (moisture) and suffers for it.

The tournament was too long.

[snzysimper]

Could I perhaps gift you a very rough draft for a Hazbin Hotel sickfic? (I don't have a fetish for it, but I really like sickfics and I have too much anxiety to post my ideas to my blog a lot of the time, so someone may as well get to enjoy them!)

It'd be a chaos comedy with lots of sweet fluff, with an illness spreading around the Hotel and everyone's powers making it manifest differently (and the fluff would be them all, some of them begrudingly, taking care of one another)

Alastor gets the worst of it (because he's my favorite lol) with a very high fever w/some amusing delirium, deep mucusy coughs and sneezes (leaning in to his deer attributes idk how to best describe it but picture an exhausted deer panting), and vomiting

Sir Pentious is hacking up a lot of very toxic mucus, can't navigate since his since of smell is compromised, and he just cannot seem to get warm enough so he's having to be plied with blankets & hot water bottles (because he's such a drama queen that of course he has to be doted on), but also he's such a "gentleman" that he doesn't want to do anything uncouth in front of a lady so he's trying to hide all of his grosser symptoms until he almost chokes and/or runs into walls multiple times and Vaggie is finally just like "omfg stop" and helps him

Baxter is an unfortunate little snot machine, and borderline refuses to leave one of the restrooms because he just wants to soak in the tub and steam the sickness out with hot showers. At some point he'd probably end up overheating himself and have to get an ice bath.

Husk has tiny little kitten sneezes (which he's embarrassed about, Charlie finds them ADORABLE, which makes him even more embarrassed). He'd end up making hot toddies for everyone

Angel's sneezes shoot webs and he keeps getting stuck to things. I realize it's not accurate to spiders, I just think it would be funny.

Vox (because he's at the hotel now, he left Valentino and moved in, because I said so) and his monitor keeps leaking a black fluid, his body's overheating (as in he starts a few minor fires around the hotel), and his audio system is on the fritz so he keeps making weird "coughing" static and sneeze audio effects that blow out glass

Niffty goes into germaphobia mode and tries to clean even more than normal (causing a few dangerous chemical mixtures in the process) and trying to deny once she does get sick only to be forced to admit defeat when she falls off of a chandelier she was dusting in a dead faint.

Cherri Bomb (because she's also there too) apparently has uncontrollable pyrokinetic powers that illness sets off, she runs a high fever (with delirium, yes it's a favored trope of mine), and keeps blowing things up and setting them on fire when she sneezes, and her coughing results in thick clouds of infectious smoke.

Charlie ends up getting sick from taking care of everyone, but puts off resting and taking meds because she wants to make sure everyone else is ok first. She has to take some kind of insanely potent medicine because of her potential power and the medicine makes her kind of loopy. Angel dust tries to sneak a little bit thinking it's just cough syrup and it makes him start tripping balls.

Vaggie is the only one not to get sick because that way she'd have to be the one to deal with everyone else's crap (maybe constant exposure to angel weaponry provides her with immunity?)

Holy fucking shit I don’t check tumblr for a few days cos I’ve been in the middle of a forest with no service and come back to THIS??

I don’t think the human race can even COMPREHEND what this makes me feel- this is the best damn thing I’ve seen in a LONG time

✨ 1000000000/10 ✨

[sockori]

shmupdate 🧦

very long, hastily written, but a look is appreciated

greetings- to those who are somehow still lingering around this account or came up upon it during my desolate time off. it is sock. or sockori.... or raven... my name is actually raven (they/it, 20 yo disabled autistic goth nerd whatever the fuck). howdy

im still on the 'undetermined hiatus' so to speak that i described in my leaving post, but i will say right now that i have no near future plans on returning. in the tags on my newest art, i mentioned my naruto hyperfixation (of like. 6 years i think) finally died out and other interests have long since captured my autism full force. for me personally, when i lose a special interest like this so drastically, i just full on abandon it for as long as it stands. however, this isn't the only thing that made me leave, and i think its time for me to be completely honest & get some weight off my chest.

i made this account around the cusp of turning 14, during a god awful pubescent era where i acted as any other edgy teen does and i'd much rather like to forget these days. what im saying is i was not in the right mindset at all when i exposed myself that much & got the attention that i did. a dismayingly giant coping mechanism i had in my youth was being online 24/7 because i had no one in reality to lean on let alone feel comfortable talking to about anything that was happening at that time. this of course leads to what the kids call these days being 'chronically online'- desperate for some sort of assurance or interaction, i crawled into internet spaces i shouldn't have been for an also incredibly unsupervised child using the dangerous worldwide web.

yes, naruto was apart of this, as well as other interests i had at the time. throughout my journey i met unsavory people, suffered abhorrent things like stalking & gr---ming, saw things i didn't deserve to see, did a bunch of stupid shit an angsty teen does, i believe you understand the rest. i am in no way proud or gleeful about any of these years and have some very sour memories tied to fandom as a whole, not just naruto, and i really don't like reflecting on them. so, unfortunately, this account sorta became a bitter reminder of what i went through as i grew up & finally matured and sought to recover. that's the first part of why my activity fizzled away & i began backing off from internet use entirely.

the second part is sasori. yes, the puppet man. sorta the sole reason i made sockori in the first place. as the sasori enjoyers following / who followed know, this puppeteer has an incredibly unhealthy philosophy and worldview (if the carefully preserved corpses turned puppets and complete lack of humanity didn't give that away), and is safe to say entirely detached from his reality to a nhilistic and suicidal extent. when you autistically fixate on a character like how i did, sometimes this character's rhetoric can seep into your own without you even realizing; Especially when you're a spot where you are incredibly vulnerable and psychologically unstable, as i was in my youth. now i didn't go around believing you should uhhh murder people and preserve them Obviously- actually i began to believe that perhaps there was some peace in obtaining a robotic existence. maybe emotions were useless, perhaps nothing truly mattered, my life didn't matter, art in eternal in the sense that death is scary and i should avoid it at all costs, why make connections with people when they just die or leave, cant trust people at all to help me, xyz. anything in these lines. without going too uncomfortably deep for everyone's sake and mine, it fucked me up severely. i suppose in a way it relates to how he uses poison. his toxins got right into my nervous system, but the pain i felt from those toxins was the only thing i could really rely on at the time, so i just let it happen. such is the depressing case of coping in the worst spot of your life.

cant help but feel incredibly strange telling the tale, as it sounds so obscure doesn't it, but media can truly get inside your psyche like this if a consumer isn't careful. not sure if anyone else out there fell into a similar headspace dealing with interests in this nature- but regardless. what i mean to say is, sasori is now a kind of content i cant consume anymore. i am in a way better place now, have grown wise and balanced with careful recovery and patience, and of course have grown out of whatever teenage nonsense i was on. sasori, who was once the only thing my autistic traumatized ass could lean on, is now an extremely dark shadow on my life. yes i see this homicidal anime puppet dude from a fantasy ninja anime and get psychological distress. he's somewhat of an aggressor or abuser to me now, which is tragic. ive been actively avoiding everything even vaguely relating to him, be it the art of puppetry, anime clips, robotic/sci-fi genre, whatnot cause i just. man. i dont wanna go back there. shouldn't have to explain why at this point. ptsd at its finest

feel like ive been honest enough. sasori enjoyers out there who were just around to enjoy what i made, anyone i happened to be good friends with during my time on this account, this doesn't have anything to do with you guys. i appreciate everyone dearly for supporting me and cheering me on in whatever i made despite all the hell & anguish that was taking place beyond the keyboard. im just glad that i managed to find some way out and get the help i need before i gave up & took my own life, which depressingly i almost did a handful of times. carrying the horrors is an exhausting burden to bare sometimes, but that does not mean i can't look back on the good parts of the era too. and seeing you all happy and sharing my memes or whatever made me ecstatic and at least a little bit hopeful for the future. fortunately that little spark of hope grew into something more. thanks for being a light in a very, very dark room.

that being said, i leave you all with this: i am not dead, just greatly changed, a new person at last freed from apathy & exhaustion, with now enough room to finally grow. the memories will never truly fade & my disabilities will be a part of me until i pass on, but at least now i can manage them a lot better than ever before, surrounded by way better people who love me for who i am. i will hang on the best i can. i wish for you to do the same. find freedom and happiness wherever you are. take care. happy trails

trans rights. i eat fascist souls. free palestine

[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week 2023-09-18

Not getting a whole lot of "autumn" vibes from this thing

Listening: Many things, but the one that has been stuck in my head is once again from Siege Ubsessed! by Curta'n'Wall. A New Castle is Born. Do you want a song about. A castle? Yes, you do.

Bonus track: whatever the hell is going on in The Dark Ages

Reading: Finished Perhaps The Stars the other day. I am increasingly convinced that Neal Stephenson has the right idea on how to end most things. The end of Perhaps the Stars is good but it's less good than the rest of the series. The book is wild, so much happens, it's a dramatic change of pace from the prior books, both way more happens and it's far slower.

9A. I am mixed on 9A. As a narrator they do not feel like the 9A. To be fair, Mycroft also does not feel like he would be a great Anonymous either. Still.

Stephenson, yes. Stephenson's books end like an 80's pop song, they just hit a peak and then fade out before you can realize it's happened. An extremely effective way to fill you with what the fuck was that great.

I like the ideas in Terra Ignota immensely. I like the style and the world of Terra Ignota a great deal. I'm not actually sure if I like the prose in Terra Ignota that much.

I do appreciate how the final chapters serve as a sort of proxy for the thoughts you've probably been having while you read the series. The various peoples who have had to just endure the clashing hives get to stand up and go you guys realize an empire is not a good thing right.

Playing: Breath of the Wild, beat Vah Rudania, the Salamander beast. One left, plus maybe four or five more memories, and I do want to track down a couple more of the side quests before I hit the endgame but I feel like I'm probably not going to come back to this much after I beat Ganon.

Also beat the snow dragon Naydra fight which was a really good setpiece. You get the reveal that it's been corrupted by Ganon, which is a great oh shit moment when you think you might have to fight it. You don't but it's still a good mobility challenge. I have some video.

Watching: Nothing really.

Making: Getting back in the CAD saddle for printing things reminds me why I still keep Autodesk Fusion installed in Windows. FreeCAD is great but it has idiosyncrasies that make it less than ideal for even moderately complicated parts. Chief among these is that it is a CAD package with no first class concept of an assembly, anything involving multiple bodies is arduous as fuck.

As a result I am trying out Onshape, the cloud/web CAD package, because at least I can run that in Linux rather than rebooting. I'm going to try and see if I can spin up Fusion 360 (or maybe even SolidEdge for the first time in, god, almost a decade) in Wine/Proton/Whatever but Onshape is promising. Despite the cloud bullshit it handles pretty much like any other professional-ish CAD package.

Tools and Equipment: I have been shaving with a old fashioned safety razor for almost a year now. I had a cheap one from the grocery store but I bought that fancy precision machined aluminium one because I like the concept of a safety razor that barely exposes a blade at all. It has been good.

As a teenager my parents deemed me too ADHD to be allowed even a cartridge razor, and for years I fought with electric razors that left crappy finishes and couldn't get anywhere near what I'd call clean. When I was in University I was like "Man it cannot be that hard to use a cartridge razor" and sure enough it wasn't. The problem I have with cartridge razors is that they clog in seconds and keeping them clear is a pain in the ass. Cuts are even less likely with this fancy one but even with a plain old safety razor it's remarkably hard to injure yourself unless you really aren't paying attention.

Safety razors are marginally more dangerous than cartridge razors but you can clear shaved hair extremely easily which means they cut like a dream for a while and they aren't as frustrating to work with. The fact that blades cost like US¢25 a piece even for slightly fancier ones is a nice touch that makes me much less likely to keep using blades long after they're too blunt to serve.

[rainbowcarousels]

It's not quite Wednesday anymore but since @desertfangs tagged me, you can have a snippet of what I'm calling Hurricane Lestat. I think it's going to end up in four parts for each POV and I'm currently working on Daniel's, so that's what you're getting.

The entrance hallway was in utter carnage.

The paintings – thought to be some of the rarest and unusual paintings that Armand could get his hands on - had been ripped by what looked like claw marks, the faintest hint of blood tinging them. The framed photographs and artwork were either laying broken in shards on the ground or had spider webbed fractures all over them. The hand carved coat rack was splintered and the coats still on the ground. The vases of the fresh cut flowers lay broken on the ground or tipped over, the flowers squashed and stomped into the floor. The shoes by the door – meant to protect a beautiful rug by the stairs – lay in haphazard disarray and half the rug was sticking up as if someone had yanked it up. The last time Daniel walked on it in his shoes, he was made to pay for it and as much fun as that was, he didn’t want to know what the penalty for this was.

There was a familiar smell, but Daniel couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Barely there, but entirely noticeable as something they didn’t usually have in the hallway. Something sweet but earthy, something he had smelled before but he couldn’t think where.

A quick scan of the house told him that Louis was at the back in the garden – had he not noticed that some kind of brutal fight must have happened in the house?

“It wasn’t a fight,” Louis told him when he went outside, apparently so interested in his book that he wouldn’t even look up. “It was…adverse weather conditions.”

“Adverse weather,” Daniel repeated. "Localised in the hallway?"

Louis was clearly using that book to hide that he was smiling, wasn’t he? “It was your fault.”

“My fault?” Daniel crossed his arms. “How can it be my fault? I wasn’t here!”

“I told you what would happen when you sent that message,” Louis replied.

Suddenly, it all clicked – Daniel had sent a semi-nude picture of Louis to Lestat and implied Armand was toying with him and Louis had warned them that Lestat would bear down on them like a storm afterwards. Judging by the state of the hallway, he had.

“Armand is going to lose his mind about that rug,” Daniel grinned. Was it not a smirk that Louis was hiding but some interestingly placed fading bitemarks? “You couldn’t have waited to get somewhere with less breakables to fuck?”

That got his attention because Louis looked up. “I was not the first person to cross the eye of the storm.”

Daniel burst out laughing – of course, the only way Armand would allow the utter destruction of his property was by being part of the hurricane that destroyed it. The line between fucking and fighting would naturally be more a jumprope with those two. “Where are they now?”

Louis pointed towards the upstairs part of the house, revealing what definitely looked like a healing bite mark. As soon as he seemed to realise, he shrugged his sleeve back down but it was too late. There was a smattering of pink coming to his cheeks. 

“I leave for a few hours and you have an orgy without me,” Daniel cackled. “Is this what you meant by appropriate punishment?”

“Certainly not,” Louis said. “There will still be an appropriate punishment, but divising one is difficult considering your history.”

Daniel shrugged; he made no excuses for being difficult to punish when he tended get off on it. Most of his shame had been swept away from normal fucking, only really found if Armand dug deep into him again. “It can be hard to top Armand.”

“Judging by the chunks of his hair in the landing and the ripped out earrings that must be somewhere on the stairs,” Louis replied. “Yes, I think Lestat would agree with you. Topping Armand can be a dangerous pursuit.”

Daniel snorted. “You seem to manage.”

“You know me, Daniel.” Louis glanced at him briefly, as if his manners were slightly winning out against his sense of embarrassment. “I am a regular daredevil.”

I think everyone I know who writes fics has already been tagged, but if not, please take this as your tag/feel free to share another!

[falinscloaca]

new criticisms of the kara portion of that "cohost bad" post showing up and good golly! golly gosh! i know this language is trivializing but i'm struggling to keep up with this shit without falling to pieces! (not in a laughing way for the record!!! shits bad on my end! not as bad as other people rn probably but still bad!) and just. drama youtubers will never not casually misgender trans people getting called out for shit huh. good luck seeming true and just and righteous when you can't even fucking keep track of a pronoun, fucker.

i also can't believe i have the internal thought of "well, that WAS two links deep, the person who made the video the person who made the ORIGINAL post and then the person who made the 'cohost isn't good actually' post which we're* taking more direct issue with. Like do I REALLY expect the OP of the cohost post (copost....) to check the SOURCES' SOURCES?" because like. yes actually you should check your sources' sources. so either its negligence, didn't-notice-the-he/himmage, or malice. And given the present as-of-typing silence FROM the person who made that fuckin post I don't feel terribly charitable.

*WE, i have turned on it fully, jfc the eevee shit is one thing but if you are going to brandish about pedo-condonement accusations NOW, at a TMA person SPECIFICALLY *NOW*, at the VERY FUCKING LEAST DON'T CITE BULLSHIT. I TAKE THIS STUFF SERIOUSLY AND *PERSONALLY* WHEN ITS A PART OF OUR COMMUNITY to the point that when the accusations are real and people continue to deny it i get fucking ravenous AND I DON'T TAKE KINDLY TO BEING FUCKED AROUND WITH.

That said i do still think the TOS for cohost is maybe a touch too loose with what it considers dangerous enough to moderate cse...f-wise (f stands for fiction. if proponents of the stuff get to hide behind the legalese of "real" child porn - which to be fully clear i am in favor of having its own label theres a world of difference between recordings of the harm of IRL kids and ficticitious shit i just don't think that the fictitious shit is harmless or sterile either. clearly different albeit related monsters in that sense- why don't I just vomit out a neologism. maybe i can get my name in the history books for coining it. kill me.) putting it lightly. But also coming up with foolproof moderation rules for that kind of site in terms of what "creative" content is or is not acceptable to host does sound impossible so what do I know. Cohost the web site is not off "the hook" (which hook????) but i think the case should be thrown out and at *most* re-researched and reconsidered on Kara specifically. fuckers...* *referring to the person/people who made the posts i'm referencing. not You, the audience of this post right now.

[thewomanwithamessedupmind]

Aight. Today is a half dream, half nightmare. I consider it both because something terrifying did happen in it, but I don't see it necessarily as a nightmare. Just a really strange and fucked up dream.

In my dream, I was going to this school for the prestigious. I want to give you guys the background that wasn't the main focus but was given.

In this school, there was one class full of kids at different ages. We were considered the "special" class. Yes, we were bullied and taunted because of it. We were just talented. Also, I was a senior in this class.

Our classroom was a large hut that stood above the ocean at the end of a dock. Well, there was something a little odd about it. In the middle of the classroom was a giant hole. Just below it was the ocean. I have no idea why it was there. It didn't make any sense to me.

Anyway, my dream started out with me cleaning up the classroom. I went into to cleaning closet before I heard some commotion in the main room.

I stepped out to see some guys from the main building pushing a freshman girl. They were dangerously close to the hole in the floor. So, I decided to intervene because I hate bullying and didn't want her to get hurt.

I stepped in front of the hole and demanded that they leave. I was stern and authoritative. They just made jabs at me for being in the "freaks" class.

Well, things got physical and I wound up falling into the hole. I floundered for a bit. The girl attempted to help me while the two guys laughed and mocked me.

Suddenly, something grabbed my foot and dragged me under. I took a deep breath so I wouldn't drown instantly. But when I looked down, all I could see was a webbed, humanoid hand around my ankle. That's all I remember before waking up.

I literally woke up gasping for air as if I had been actually holding my breath. My mom and brother asked if I was okay.

With the dream still fresh and vivid in mind, I turned to them and said, "I was drowning." I literally woke myself up by holding my breath. There were no blankets, pillows, or anything else covering my face. It really freaked me out. But I loved the dream.

I hope you all are having a fantastic day so far. I love you all so much. 💋💖🫂