#helix-initiate

[the-real-google]

If you really are Google, what's a pager?

what does me being google have to do with this

[shaycormacaroni]

I love your name, handle and pfp lmfao

Thank u hehe

Slay (literally ) 💅

[clonehighdoublehelix]

[gloombog]

how does anyone cope with wanting to size up again immediately after stretching your ears to the next gauge this shit has no right being so addicting

[beakerhoneydew]

Using my office job powers for evil (scheduling a piercing appointment on Labor Day cause I get it off)

[woolmasterleel]

Wahoo

[rowanintheriver]

you're thinking abt vi as in arcane i'm thinking abt vi as in initial velocity. we are not the same

[damez1979]

Abstergo's DEADLY Server Sweep: Can the Helix Initiate ESCAPE?

[sourpeachsayshi]

You had more thoughts about big bro Choso??

I'm listening 🎤

⊱ ─── [ marathon ] ─── ⊰

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: public (is it pseudo incest if yuji is asleep? and choso is his brother?); heavy petting; kissing; nipple play; dry humping; reader is yuji's best friend; choso is yuji's brother; non curse au; hooking up in secret; size kink

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: nyx, my beloved. I initially was going to write something short, but decided to expand on this and I'm wrapping it up as a little gift to you <3

midnight rolls around, the living room glowing in blue light. yuji is on the floor, curled into a ball with his eyes shut as he snores quietly. the movie is still playing, you know it's the last one, but you've got another hour and thirty minute left and it only just started. usually you wouldn't be so conscious of the time, eventually falling asleep, but halfway through choso decided to join you both and you've been on the edge of your seat ever since.

he's so big. his strong, muscular legs taking up quite a bit of space on the humble sized sofa. you find yourself fidgeting with your outfit. tugging at the hem of your short dress as you adjust the straps of the top.

your cheeks are already warm, even though choso is innocently just watching the movie.

"you cold?" he asks, keeping his eye on the screen but picking up on your restless movements.

"yes," you lie. it's actually quite nice - neither too hot or cold, but you figure you would feel less exposed under a blanket.

choso gets up and walks over to the other side of the room. he picks up two blankets, one which he spreads over yuji's body and the other which unfolds over your lap.

"thank you," you softly answer, snuggling underneath to conceal yourself.

"no problem," he nonchalantly replies, but your body shivers when you notice that he sits even closer to you.

you try to watch the movie, tell yourself not to think about what happened a couple of weeks ago in choso's room. you nip at your bottom lip, your belly fluttering with guilt. you swore it would be the last time. you can't keep lying to your best friend like this. hate that you've been showing up at his place more often under false pretenses.

"comfy?" a deep voice whispers against your ear, and you squeeze your thighs underneath the blanket as you swallow the lump in your throat.

a breathy response comes out of you. "yeah, I am"

"good," he answers back, his fingers moving to unravel the blanket even more. "make some room for me then, I'm starting to feel the cold too.."

another lie. but a lie that makes your heart quiver with anticipation.

silence lingers, the two of you keeping your eyes on the television screen. you glance in his direction, wetting your lips at his handsome features. his hair is out, flowing freely to his shoulders, with some of the layers pulled into a half up do. his exposed ears show off his silver jewelry, and you notice a new piercing on his helix. his dark brows frame his perpetually exhausted eyes, his jaw tight and his mouth in a firm line.

he turns towards you just as you quickly glare at the screen pretending like you weren't just gawking in his direction.

choso leans closer, intruding into your space. "this movie sucks"

"it's only slow in the beginning," you insist, "it gets better towards the middle..."

his touch is warm, it makes your thigh tingle when he places his palm over your exposed flesh.

he strokes his thumb back and forth across your skin, "does it?"

"you should pay attention," you murmur, your legs spreading on their own accord, your face finally turning to his. he's so close that your noses bump, and you look at him with sparkling eyes. "the details are really important..."

"are they?" he answers back with a slight grin, teasing you as always. his shy, introverted personality tucked away somewhere else.

your heart pounds in your chest, your attention quickly moving to yuji who is still asleep on the floor.

"I can't seem to pay attention when you've been walking around the place in this little thing all day," choso adds on, stealing your focus once more.

the heat blooms in every space that makes a pulse. you know it's been a distraction, that was the whole point of you wearing it. the top fits a little too snug, your breasts pushed up and on the cusp of spilling out. the hem was a dangerous length, and you are far too ashamed to admit it was for the purpose of easy access.

his hand trails upward, the pads of his fingers delicately tracing a path up along your inner thigh. you gasp lightly against his lips, an electric spark running up the base of your spine when you feel him press his index finger against your underwear.

"what's got you so wet?" he purrs into your mouth, his bottom lip grazing over your own.

your eyes shoot to yuji again, your anxiety out on full force.

you place one hand on his shoulder in an attempt to pull yourself out of this precarious position, but choso simply slips his free arm behind your waist and tucks you into his frame. he kisses the corner of your mouth, his affection traveling to the sweet spot against your neck.

you swallow a whimper, his mouth hot and wet against your flesh. "choso-" you whine as quietly as possible, "your brother is right there-"

his lips find yours, he silences your warning with a kiss. his thumb traces the slit of your clothed cunt, his other hand slithering upward to squeeze your left breast.

"he can sleep through a earthquake," he replies nonchalantly. "we're fine"

you know it's true, but it still feels so...inappropriate.

your hand moves to hold his jaw, your body melting into his weight while you both make out on the sofa. he arches forward, keeping your back resting against the arm chair, the blanket falling to your lap and exposing your upper body. he removes his hand from between your legs, and hooks his index finger around the straps of your dress.

he pulls them down, drags the fabric further to reveal the deep swells of your breasts. a moan leaves you when he finally releases you from his kiss, your spit slick lips panting to catch your breath. he pecks your neck, the indentations around your collar bones, and further down. his greedy hands pull at your dress, just low enough that your hardened nipples are exposed. he uses both thumbs to massage the tender buds, a satisfied expression highlighting his face.

"I knew you weren't wearing a fucking bra" he smugly states.

your head falls back against the arm rest, your body tingling with pleasure from him tweaking and rolling your nipples. you shift your head to check on yuji again, your stomach twisting into a knot out of guilt.

before you can let yourself spiral into the depravity of your sin, choso glides his tongue over one of your nipples to silence your thoughts. the blanket is barely covering you both, the hem of your dress hiked up as your body slowly becomes horizontal.

the movie plays, a scene of passionate dialogue ensuing among the characters while you and choso make out heavily on the sofa. the music carries, a sudden boom from the bass making you both freeze. you both turn to yuji, noticing him shift onto his back still heavy with sleep.

you tremble underneath choso, gazing at him with frightened eyes.

"I can't-" you insist with a shake of your head, while he sighs against your neck.

your both in this position for a seconds, until he murmurs an "okay".

before you know it he's picking you up like you’re featherlight, maneuvering your disheveled state until he has you situated on his lap. large hands find your hips, and he drags you back until you can feel his length press up against your ass.

"relax," he whispers again, his teeth nipping at your delicate lobe. "you keep watching the movie..."

you find yourself obliging as you mold into his chest, your breasts heaving when you breath heavily as he grabs one of your tits in his hand to knead at your pebbled nipple. his other hand finds your soaked underwear once more, and presses the cloth between your lips as he massages the folds.

your vision is blurry, the blue light morphing the colors and the shapes all around you. you brain is a fuzzy thing, lobes made of cotton that's slowly being plucked.

choso kisses your shoulder, his hip bucking slightly to add some friction against his cock.

"turn around"

"but-" you stutter, your back slightly arching when he pinches your nipple.

"it'll be quick, just turn around and face me..." he firmly dictates, and you're so horny at this point that you simply just oblige with frustration.

he keeps the blanket in place as you spin, straddling him properly with your arms locked around his neck.

"lay on me," he adds soft, holding you in a gentle embrace as he hides both of you underneath the blanket.

you sigh dreamily feeling the brush of his cock against your cunt, choso's hands grip onto the plush meat of your ass, and you both instantly start grinding against one another for some much needed relief. his soft tee adds friction to your chest, your nipples brushing over his hard torso. your fingers sink into the locks of his hair, your thighs spreading further as you move with a little more conviction.

"shit-" he groans, lightly tapping your ass to egg you on. "oh shit, that feels good..."

you raise yourself up slightly, forgetting for a moment that you both aren't alone. you look down at where your sexes meet, watching yourself slide back and forth over the imprint of his cock. choso stares at your pussy with concentration, one hand traveling to slip an index finger underneath the fabric. he tugs it to the side, giving you better access. you're trembling, your arousal coating the light material of his sweatpants.

choso is bucking his hips subtly, the sound of the sofa creaks mildly. his eyes fall to your chest, the dress resting just under your nipples, your body glistens as a mist of sweat glitters your skin.

your thighs quiver, a ghost of a whine muted by the television screen when your stomach flutters as you reach your orgasm. choso moans, his head falling back to the sofa when he cums, tainting his sweats with a large, noticeable stain.

the heat of the moment dwindles fast for you, and you quickly glance over your shoulder to make sure that yuji is still asleep.

choso's fingers find your chin, turning you back to face him as he lowers you to his lips. "told you nothing wakes him up," he reassures.

"we can't keep doing this," you add with a shake of your head.

"you say this every time," he notes, helping you as he readjusts the straps of your dress.

"we...we went a bit too far..."

"too far is me fucking you, sweetheart..."

you gaze at him with frustration as you slither off his lap, tugging the blanket over you as shame burns your skin. you try to readjust your position, licking your lips only to find that you can still taste him on your tongue. but then he shifts, his mouth against your ear once more.

"and we haven't done that...yet."

[todays-xkcd]

Disney lore: Canonically, because of how Elsa's abiogenesis powers work, Olaf is an RNA-only organism.

RNAWorld [Explained]

Transcript Under the Cut

[Cueball, Ponytail, Jill, and another child (wearing Mickey/Minnie ears) are walking through an amusement park. Cueball has a water bottle and a backpack, Ponytail is looking at a map or a brochure with a helix structure shown on one page, Jill has a small stuffed toy, and the other child has a popsicle. Cueballs, Megans, and Hairys can be seen in the background in gray. There are also a drop tower, a roller coaster, a shop, and a hot air balloon in the background.] Ponytail: Okay, kids, now that Ariel is done collecting nucleotides for Ratatouille’s primordial soup, let’s go watch Elsa initiate runaway ribozyme synthesis!

[Caption below the panel:] Disney’s RNAWorld

[chu16a-blog]

Benji Dunn x Reader - Enemy to Lover (Part 1/6)

Pairing: Benji Dunn x Reader

This is chapter 1/6 fanfic (everything is already written because I have exams in a week, and I'm procrastinating). However, I will upload only one chapter per day, ehehe

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

CHAPTER 1: SHADOWS IN BERLIN

Ethan Hunt sat stiffly at the center of the briefing table. Benji Dunn and Luther Stickell flanked either side, the tension between them and the CIA rep so thick it could choke.

"This target is to be captured alive," the agent said, sliding the thin manila folder across the table. "She has stolen a highly sensitive asset. She is considered extremely dangerous. Location pings in Berlin, for now."

Ethan flipped open the folder. Sparse intel. No name. No clear photo. A single blurry image of you, mid-stride.

"What's the asset?" Luther asked.

"Classified. You're to retrieve it, and her."

Benji squinted. "What did she do, exactly?"

"She's considered extremely dangerous," the agent repeated with clipped precision.

Benji raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, you mentioned that part. Like, how dangerous? John Wick dangerous or more like ‘don’t eat the wrong sandwich’ dangerous?”

Luther gave him a look. Ethan stayed silent, still scanning the folder.

The agent didn’t blink. “She’s killed before.”

Benji looked surprised, but not entirely convinced. “And yet you want us to bring her in alive?”

"Yes," the agent said flatly. "Just follow the mission."

Ethan’s eyes narrowed further.

The rep gave a stiff smile. "Just follow the mission."

---

The train slid into Berlin Hauptbahnhof just before dawn. Cold wind spilled across the platform as the doors hissed open. You stepped out without hesitation, no luggage, no pause, no second glance at the cameras above the ticket barriers.

New identity burned into your pocket. Data chip sewn into the lining of your sleeve. One chance.

You’d been out of the CIA for less than forty-eight hours. Not that they’d called it an “exit.” People like you didn’t resign. They vanished. Or were buried.

Berlin was the first step. The last known vault of hard-stored intel from the Helix Project. You needed the initial data set—schematics, weapon details, control bypass.

You ducked into an alley. Adjusted the weave of your scarf. Took a breath.

They would come soon. CIA. Or something worse.

You’d seen the file requests ping on the ghost server. Not even an hour after your extraction. Redacted names. One you recognized: Ethan Hunt.

Great. IMF. The CIA’s favorite wildcard cleanup crew.

You didn’t want to hurt them. But you wouldn't be captured either. Not again.

You kept moving. Always moving.

No mistakes.

No attachments.

No mercy.

Not until this thing was gone forever.

Berlin was only the beginning.

Rain misted down onto slick pavement outside an abandoned cybernetics lab tucked away in Berlin's industrial zone. Ethan, Benji, and Luther were in position.

Inside, you were hunting for an encrypted drive left behind by a contact. The place was collapsing from years of neglect, flickering lights exposing fractured tiles and broken labs.

"I’ve got visual," Ethan murmured into the comm.

From your perch near a shattered window, you spotted Ethan.

You cursed under your breath, bolted from the console and into the maze-like hallways. It didn't take long before you heard footsteps.

Ethan was fast.

But not fast enough.

You darted through a heavy security door, slamming it shut just as the sound of pursuit echoed behind you. The metallic clang reverberated through the dimly lit server room, casting long shadows across the rows of humming machines.

Benji Dunn was there.

He stood at a terminal, fingers mid-type, eyes widening as he looked up. His body froze—like a deer caught in headlights.

You had a gun in your hand. And every reason to use it.

The two of you stared at each other across the dark room, breath suspended in the charged stillness. A flickering overhead light passed across your face as your eyes locked.

Benji didn’t move. Couldn’t.

There was no fear in your stance—but there wasn’t comfort either. He didn’t know what to expect.

His breath hitched, chest rising as though bracing for a bullet.

“…Hi,” you said lightly.

Inside your mind, you paused. Why did I say hi? It was ridiculous. You barely knew him, and he was the enemy.

His mouth opened. Then closed.

She said hi.

Why did she say hi?

Is that normal? Do assassins say hi now? Was that sarcastic? Cute? No—dangerous. She's dangerous.

But her voice… it echoed in his head, light and smooth and unexpectedly warm. And those eyes—serious, focused—but there had been a flicker of something else.

Before he could blink, you were gone.

He stood frozen for a beat too long then snapped out of it, cursing under his breath as he bolted after you. He turned the corner just in time to see the tail end of your coat whip around another hallway.

Benji shook his head violently. Stop it. She had a gun pointed at you. A literal weapon. You're being stupid. Hormones are not bulletproof.

And yet, as he sprinted around another corner, a traitorous part of him kept repeating it:

She said hi.

He almost tripped. Who even says hi in the middle of a mission? That’s not protocol. That’s… flirting. Was that flirting? Oh god. Am I into that?

He definitely needed to recalibrate his instincts. Or at least stop thinking her smirk was kind of hot.

“Benji?” Ethan’s voice crackled through the comm, sharp with urgency. “What’s going on?”

Benji huffed, sprinting. “I—I think I’m chasing her? She said hi—and then she ran—and now I’m running!”

There was a pause.

“You think you’re chasing her?” Ethan replied.

Benji wheezed. “Well, she’s very fast and very armed, and I’m just trying to keep up without dying!”

Luther cut in dryly, "Be careful. She’s not a stray cat, Benji."

"I KNOW," Benji panted, turning a corner and catching only empty air.

As you escaped the facility, drive in hand. You found yourself still thinking. That guy’s… kinda cute. Who even is he? You briefly pictured your own breathless face saying hi, the silly flirtatious thought creeping in but you shook it off sharply. No. He’s the enemy.

[calebdatabase]

Caleb & MC Bound by DNA

My god first off I was crashing out while watching the trailer I'm so excited for more CALEB LORE! I remember asking for more Sci-Fi content on a survey and they delivered! Soooo many incredible feelings, so I wanted to follow up on my Caleb as Donor 002 post.

Now we know that Caleb and MC were created from the same 'source' as he literally stated in the trailer. Seems it wasn't far-fetched to draw a connection between Eve being created from Adam's rib!

Taking a closer look at the structure of the DNA helix, I interpret 'source' as they are Cyborgs birthed from the same 'energy source'. The helix appears mechanical in nature with rippling energy currents.

It appears, in this new timeline, Caleb and MC are bound by their very DNA; his myth trailer included imagery of a metal double helix and the following text:

"The enigma behind the double metal helix... The promise you had since you were born."

"But the promise we've had since we were born, I kept that one." - Caleb to MC

Again, there is this imagery of being bound at birth, similar to how twins are (I mentioned the symbolism of twins/siblings and how they're often experimentation victims of Ever in the Donor 002 post). In this case, perhaps they are cyborg clones of the same energy core.

And if you're a Potterhead, you'll see that its a concept remniscent of Harry's and Voldemort's twin Phoenix Feather wand cores. One cannot survive without the other, both must die for one to be vanquished.

Twins, clones, whatever you want to call it**—** it's a pattern you can't deny, and now I'm convinced in the present timeline, Caleb and her are linked in more ways than they appear to be.

Also love how Caleb x MC haters got their panties in a twist and Infold was literally like 'LET ME SPELL IT OUT FOR YOU' *drops myth trailer* Kudos to them for sticking with the planned lore and remaining unfazed by the initial controversy. They had to prime everyone before dropping this, and the ones who get it, get it.

"Then it's a promise. In life and in death, we will never be apart."

You can't tell me these aren't their literal wedding vows HAHA I'm sickkk. Caleb basically said: 'Till death do us part? I think not..' The look in his eyes is so intense too like damn ok i'm all yours for eternity my dude.

I think the promise they made when they were born refers to his promise to protect her always. It's a call back to their childhood memories about Caleb protecting her like a ring system protects its planet; they are born together and they die together.

Here's my thoughts on their A-01 and X-02 titles:

Caleb was distinctively labeled Donor 002 while MC was labeled Subject 001 in old experiment documents by Gaia and Ever.

In Caleb's very first intro trailer and his new myth trailer, his title is X-02. Respectively, MC is A-01. They are a pair represented by the concepts of Death and Rebirth, the ideal weapons to destroy one another, as we're all aware.

'A' may represent 'Alpha' in the concept of 'Alpha and Omega' aka the 'Beginning and the End'. MC can miraculously revive after dying via her Aether Core and can only be fully destroyed (and by proxy reborn) by the power Caleb wields.

'X' is associated with 'with death and rebirth, as it is thought to mark the end of one cycle and the beginning of another. It is also often seen as a symbol of change or transition, as it represents the crossing of a threshold.'

Pretty straightforward. All I experience is pain with these two, and I. Need. More.

In honor of Caleb's myth dropping, I'm gonna post my embarrassingly long Supernova theory on the pair soon since I gleaned more insight from the myth trailer tidbits. Now I'm not sure if I should wait until reading his myth so I can go back and edit or just release it as is.

Might have to split it up into a few posts with their own section so its digestible lmao. It's been a couple months in the making and while it includes the scientific concepts explained in the Bound by Gravity, United in Resonance video, I also weaved it into the lore and the direction of Caleb's story. I've been a full believer in the Supernova Catalyst theory since Caleb was released and I'm excited to share my thoughts on them so stay tuned (his eyes are literal supernovas)!

My tumblr is Caleb Database and I plan to post more fun things like fics, lore theories, and fanart (I've already got one fic and two lore posts up). I'm also obsessed with Star Wars and Harry Potter, so you're likely to see some AU's of Caleb in these realms...

[ch6sos]

random choso headcanons

i <3 choso i <3 making odd ball headcanons so here u guys go

content warning mentions of "metabolism", social anxiety/anxiety (not bad though) + motion sickness, and this is not proofread and lowercase so if any of those Like makes you tingle please don't read this my sweet

he’s emo as hell, he listens to emo music. now he's the one i actually imagine listening to my chemical romance, pierce the veil, etc. (bc with nanami I feel like he'd listen to more 80s-90s rock music but this isn't about my first husband)

he suffers from insomnia and finds it difficult to sleep unless he has someone he cares about in the room or at least snuggling with him.

peacemaker: he is a peacemaker when it comes to his brothers.

"hey yuji, you should really share with him. "

"no!"

"yuji...." 

"fine."

he has an earthy aroma—he often uses colognes with earthy notes that are not overpowering (i  think he might be sensitive to strong scents).

i imagine him experiencing motion sickness. for some reason, i imagine him feeling dizzy in a car, or being unable to handle a rollercoaster without feeling extremely unwell.

would probably work at your local hot topic especially if this was set during the 2000s era where hot topic was actually catered to the alternative scene. or a tattoo shop!

several piercings. on his left ear, he has an industrial, a triple lobe piercing, and a conch— his right having a double helix piercing, a tragus, and a single lobe piercing.... and then he has an eyebrow piercing and a labret piercing :)

enjoys watching christmas movies because a lot of them are about family!

deeply family-oriented, he genuinely just wants to grow up with a family. a big one, too.

thus he may have a fear of being alone, which makes me believe that he is introverted but also genuinely afraid of ending up alone as he grows older. he values the presence of family and wants to ensure that they always surround him.

he comes across as a bit shy initially, not necessarily awkward, but it takes some time to get to know him.

still not too talkative but genuinely chill to talk to.

has a lot of accessories when he wears outfits, especially bracelets or necklaces. 

black is what you find in his closet. just black (and a couple of purples and reds but mainly black)

he be thrifting them outfit pieces too idc idc he not a shein warrior

is a bit insecure about his dark circles and markings on his face (i could imagine he still has the markings but they look more like a scar rather than what it looks like in the actual manga/anime) so he begins to cover them up with concealer sometimes.

eats a LOT of junk food and somehow doesn't gain weight. bro probably can eat a whole box of pizza with wings and doesn't even gain a pound.

he is genuinely clueless/oblivious when it comes to relationships like he doesn't know when someone's flirting with him unless they tell them straight up. and when they tell him he's like:

"...oh! me...?" because he genuinely thinks, “wow, someone likes me?!?!”

plus he would ask before initiating even after being in a relationship

“do… do you mind if i kiss you?”

“cho we’ve been dating for five months”

“oh… i’m sorry for asking… again.”

spends a lot of time on his hair !!! he has to wake up early sometimes just to do his hair. and he doesn't plan on cutting it, only trims it once in a while.

when he's home he either has it down or has it in a ponytail. he even has a silk pillowcase so it never gets frizzy.

cats or dogs— no. he likes turtles. he even has a pet turtle.

i think that he wouldn't vape or smoke the way people might expect him to. i believe he may have a weak immune system, which would make it difficult for him to engage in such activities.

socially anxious as hell bro tweaks out when he has to order at a restaurant... 

but overall he’s an anxious person, i feel like he’d suffer from anxiety a lot (as someone who has anxiety i just can tell he’d be the type to have it too)

when he dates someone he's really touchy with them because he craves physical touch. he especially enjoys when someone plays with his hair he falls asleep in a millisecond.

he loves sketching in a notebook, he loves drawing nature a lot! he likes going to the park or a forest and drawing what he sees. he also enjoys drawing people and i imagine he always draws pictures of yuji too, and he shows them to him.

tease him and his face is red, his eyes are widened, and his face is in absolute shock...

literally the sweetest guy ever; he's always looking out for everyone and makes sure everyone around him is okay

he's always cold thus needs someone to cuddle him.

is fascinated by some amphibians and watches national geographic sometimes when he knows they're going to talk about amphibians. especially frogs!

his most used app on his Black iPhone 13 Pro Max would be Spotify and he is top 0.1% listener for some underrated metal band

creative hobbies more than physical hobbies (sketching, journaling, sewing)

HE CROCHETS IDC WHAT ANYONE SAYS HE LITERALLY MADE A CROCHET ROSE FOR YUKI I D O NOT GIVE A DAMN 

when he laughs it's like a silent soft chuckle, and he usually covers his mouth when he does it

gets emotional easily, especially when he receives love. for a long time, he couldn’t believe that he would ever be loved so when he is receiving affection he gets overwhelmed and tries not to cry because he thinks “how?? why me?”

he loves holding hands. he tries not to freak out but when someone holds his hands when he’s freaking out or just in general, he loves the feeling of their warm hands against his very cold ones

apologises alot even though everything is not his fault

when he’s mad he needs time to cool off especially because he gets emotional easily. he needs time to himself before calming down before discussing his emotions with someone.

speaking of emotions, i don’t think he’d be bad at expressing emotions or speaking about it, at first yes but he begins to grow better at it and plus sometimes the way he shows emotion is more impulsive and involuntary rather than on purpose

listens more than talks because he is too busy getting sidetracked by his own thoughts or he genuinely can't talk to people sometimes

he has a fidget toy because he is always fidgeting with his fingers so yuji got him a fidget toy (probably a fidget spinner) and was fascinated with it and it didn’t help it just something he distracts himself with when he doesn’t feel like being present in a conversation or just in general

cried when yuji graduated and gave him the hugest hug of his life. and i don’t mean a few tears he BAWLED he was bawling because he was so proud of his little brother.

spends time with yuji a lot sometimes more than his own friends and they always go to the arcade or mall together

yuji got him a picture frame of him and choso posing and choso cried for several days because he couldn’t believe he has such an amazing brother

learns gen z lingo just for yuji

“oh yuji! that was very w rizz of you!”

“...what?”

“i didn’t know you had that much aura!”

I  Love Him

Missing him come back emo king

[shadowmaat]

Fanon strikes again

I was reading a fic tonight and Initiate Bant Eerin made an appearance. The author made mention of her being a "little healer already." Common enough. I think every fic I've ever read where Bant appears has her being a Healer, including my own fics.

It's strictly fanon stuff, I know. And I knew I'd looked it up before to see what the rationale had been, but I decided to look it up again. Something something Legends. Something something new Master after her first one died. Set her on a healer track, right?

Nope.

Her Legends background has Kit Fisto completing her training and she goes on to become a full Knight. She's an excellent pilot and is sent in to rescue Obi-Wan and whatever company he's in several times.

SHE. IS. A. FIGHTER.

She even has her own clone battalion in the war. The 18th. Led by Commander Herc. A named (numbered) battalion and a named clone Commander. And I'd just... completely forgotten that. As did the rest of fandom.

It's one thing to know something is fanon. But it was really jarring to realize this bit was made up whole cloth. Why the fuck make Bant a healer? What's the rationale there?

Bant Eerin is unfairly shunted into the non-combat (or less-combat) role of healer while Siri Tachi is allowed to stay a badass.

Except Siri Tachi has more going for her: she's human and she's a love interest for Obi-Wan. Thus, I guess, she's allowed to be awesome.

Not that healers can't be awesome (hello, Master Che), but that's a whole different system at work. Different values. And Bant got dumped into it because... reasons?

Maybe it was an accidental thing. One person decided to write Bant as a healer because of their own niche reasons and then everyone glommed onto it for themselves. Kinda like how one person created Helix as the 212th's medic and everyone borrowed it, except much more egregious, IMO.

I need more ass-kicking Bant Eerin in my life. I want to know how she and Commander Herc work together. Protective Bant, yes, but protective in a "wading through battle to retrieve an injured trooper" than "tape Obi-Wan to the exam table so he can't escape."

Are there ANY stories where Bant is allowed to be an actual working Knight? If so, I'd love to read them.

[rentenier3148]

Held Together By Memory

Chapter 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You both were torn from 1940s Brooklyn and remade into killers. But when memories begin to bleed through, a second chance is ignited.

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warning: Fluff. Some smut. Angst. Slow Burn (?). Some cannon divergence for plot. No use of y/n. Language (sorry Steve)

A.N: I realized that it has been a while since I've watched the actual saga so sorry if most things are inaccurate. I'm also just lazy to watch all of them again. Plus, it just advances the plot. I love canon divergence 🤩

Chapter 4

✪──────•••──────✪

Unknown Location - Time Unknown

You wake slowly.

The air is cold—too cold. Your head aches like it's been split in two. Everything feels off, wrong, like your body doesn't quite belong to you anymore.

The light is dim, humming with a strange flicker overhead. Metal walls. Sterile floors. The faint hiss of pressurized air.

You're lying on a cot with coarse sheets, your wrists bound in leather cuffs to the rails on either side. Your heart lurches.

Panic sets in.

You twist, pull, try to scream—but your throat is dry, and your voice barely escapes as more than a hoarse whisper.

"Where—"

"Where am I?"

There's a hiss of hydraulics as a metal door slides open across the room.

Two men walk in. Cold eyes. Dark uniforms. You don't recognize the language embroidered on their sleeves, but their insignia—a coiled skull inside a circle—burns itself into your memory like a brand.

One of them carries a clipboard, the other something that looks like a syringe glinting with a sickly blue fluid.

You struggle harder.

"Please—what is this? I didn't do anything!"

They don't answer right away. They just study you.

The one with the clipboard speaks, his accent thick, his tone clinical. Detached. Like you're not even human.

"Subject 014 shows enhanced psychological resilience. High emotional intelligence. Unusually adaptive nervous response under sedation. Promising."

The one with the syringe hums thoughtfully. "The others broke too soon. Too emotional. Too aware. But this one..." He steps closer, tilting your chin with gloved fingers. "This one may be the breakthrough we need."

Your breath stutters.

They keep talking about a new program called "Black Helix" and something about "neurological remapping".

You don't know what any of this means, all you know is that something is very, very wrong.

The clipboard clicks shut.

"Initiate pre-conditioning. Begin baseline extractions. Memory access within forty-eight hours."

The door hisses closed behind them.

And you're left shaking, cuffed to a cot in a room that smells like chemicals and cruelty.

✪──────•••──────✪

Brooklyn, New York

The sun rises like any other—gentle, golden, stretching light across the city rooftops as if it doesn't know the world has changed.

Ginny Russo stirs awake in her apartment a few blocks down from yours, tangled in sheets and clutching a pillow she's long since claimed as Tommy's stand-in. She yawns, stretches, and pushes herself out of bed with the kind of lazy grace that comes from one too many late nights whispering under streetlamps with her best friend.

Her best friend—you.

She pads into the kitchen, hair in curlers and robe trailing behind her, and flips on the coffee pot. Her eyes drift to the small pile of envelopes on the table. No new letter from Tommy yet. She sighs, but it's okay.

She's got you.

After getting ready for the day, Ginny walks the now-familiar route toward your brownstone. Two cups of coffee in hand, a bag of warm pastries in your elbow crook, humming a Billie Holiday tune under her breath.

She climbs your steps with ease, balancing the cups in one hand as she knocks on your door with the other.

Knock knock.

"Open up, sweetheart! I brought the sugary ones with the raspberry filling—your weird favorite."

Silence.

Ginny waits. Then knocks again, this time a bit harder.

"You didn't fall asleep at the table reading love poems again, did you?"

Still nothing.

Her smile falters. Something cold creeps up her spine.

She tries the doorknob. It's unlocked. Which isn't totally unusual... but her gut twists anyway.

She calls your name.

She steps inside.

The apartment is quiet. A little too quiet. A coffee mug still sits in the sink from the night before. Your shoes are by the door. One of your sweaters is draped over the arm of the chair.

But no sign of you.

And then she sees it—your purse is still on the table.

Your keys.

Her breath catches. Ginny's been through enough long nights and lonely mornings to know when something is wrong.

Her voice trembles as she calls for your name again, louder this time.

But you're not there.

And the chill in her chest turns into full-blown panic.

Ginny heads to the police department to file a missing persons report.

The officer barely raises an eyebrow—"Probably just ran off. Girls get emotional during wartime."

But Ginny doesn't buy it.

She knows you.

You wouldn't disappear. Not without telling her. Not without a word.

She clutches your photograph to her chest that night, curled up on your bed, whispering a promise into the dark:

"I'm gonna fine you, sweetheart. I swear to God, I'm not letting them take you from me too."

✪──────•••──────✪

HYDRA Facility - Unknown Location

Three floors below ground. Temperature strictly controlled. Surveillance active. Doors sealed from the outside.

You lie on the cot, still restrained, body aching, thoughts foggy.

Time has stopped meaning anything. There's no sun, no moon—just sterile lights that flicker too often, and the cold voice of someone speaking Russian over a speaker you can't see.

they haven't fed you much. Haven't spoken to you since they evaluated you. But something has changed today.

You feel it.

The door hisses open with a deep mechanical sigh.

Two HYDRA soldiers enter first—silent, faceless under black helmets. Behind them comes a woman in a long lab coat, her heels tapping against the metal floor with unnerving precision. Her hair tied back so tightly it looks like it hurts, and her eyes—icy and detached—sweep over you like you're just another experiment.

She holds a clipboard in one hand and a device in the other—smooth, cold metal with faint blue light pulsing from the edges.

"Subject 014," she says. "Initiate Black Helix Phase One."

You flinch as the soldiers approach, undoing your cuffs only to haul you to your feet and guide you—not violently, but with precision of men who have done this many time before—down a long hallway of metal doors and silence.

You're brought into a circular room.

There's a chair in the center—strapped, reinforced. Surrounding it are machines humming with eerie light. Above, a ring of dim lights and spinning instruments like something out of a nightmare.

They sit you in the chair.

You struggle, voice raw. "Please—I don't understand—what are you doing to me?!"

The woman speaks again, not unkindly. Not kindly either. Just... calm.

"You are being chosen. We believe your mind is strong enough. Your emotions, adaptable. Unlike the others... you will not break. You will evolve."

Another machine whirs to life.

She places small electrodes against your temples. Ice-cold. Sticky. You tremble.

"We are improving on the Winter Soldier model," she continues, like reading from a textbook. "Emotionless compliance has proven unstable. Instead, we cultivate dual-function memory layering—a perfect balance of identity and obedience."

She pauses. Looks directly into your eyes.

"You will become what he could not."

The lights flash. Pain stabs through your skull. Not burning—not yet. Just pulling.

Pulling at memories. At feelings. At you.

Your voice cracks as you call out—

"Bucky—"

But the sound is swallowed by the machines. And the programming begins.

✪──────•••──────✪

The cell they keep you in now is no longer a prison.

It's a lab.

A stage.

A proving ground.

You sit on the edge of the cot, hands folded neatly in your lap. The light above you flickers in rhythm, casting strange shadows across your face. Your posture is perfect. Your eyes—distant.

You don't scream anymore. You don't cry.

The memories still come... but they feel like dreams now. Half-real. A boy with soft eyes. A kiss on a stoop. A laugh in the rain.

But the machine hums louder than your heart, and the woman in white never lets dreams stay.

Dr. Liska, which you later found out her name was, clipboard in hand. She's flanked by two uniformed guards and a HYDRA officer with a cold stare and silver insignia.

She studies you for a moment before speaking, voice smooth and even.

"Begin trigger sequence."

One of the guards steps forward, opens a small case, and pulls out a red book—leather-bound, stitched with the HYDRA sigil.

He opens it.

Reads, in a low, measured tone:

Неподвижность [Stillness] Лента [Ribbon] Звездный свет [Starlight] Двенадцать [Twelve] Сладкий [Sweet] Исчезновение [Disappearance]

Your breath catches.

You blink. Hard.

And then, your spine straightens.

Your eyes lose their shine.

You rise—slowly, silently—and look forward. Expression blank.

Dr. Liska smiles. "Good. She responds."

The HYDRA officer murmurs something in Russian, impressed.

"Identity is not fully suppressed," she notes aloud. "But control is improving. A delicate balance of emotional memory and mechanical obedience. The serum is unnecessary when the mind is this... pliable."

She steps closer, looks you in the eyes.

"Who are you?"

There's a flicker—deep inside you—screaming from somewhere in the dark.

But what leaves your lips instead is cold. Automatic.

"I am Black Helix."

Liska smiles.

Above, watching from the glass gallery, a man with a red skull nods in approval.

✪──────•••──────✪

Brooklyn, New York - 1940s

The sky is a heavy gray, pressing down over the city like grief. Slush lines the gutters. Smoke curls from chimneys, thick and aimless. Flags hang at a half-mast from too many stoops.

Two people walk toward each other down a quiet street, both carrying worlds of pain they haven't spoken aloud yet.

Steve Rogers, fresh from the war, still in uniform, a shadow of the man he used to be—even with the serum.

And Ginny Russo, coat wrapped tight around her frame, red-rimmed eyes fixed on the familiar figure she hasn't seen in over a year.

They meet on your old stoop. The one where you and Bucky once said goodbye. The one where hope used to sit between cups of coffee and quiet kisses.

Steve forces a soft smile.

"Ginny."

She hugs him before he can say anything else. It's tight, desperate, the kind that comes from holding things in too long.

When they pull apart, she stares at him for a moment—really stares. And her voice shakes.

"Where is he, Steve?"

He looks away. the answer is already written in the lines of his face.

"We were on a train. It was fast, moving through the Alps. We were chasing a scientist from an organization, HYDRA. There was a fight and... and Bucky..."

He swallows. Hard.

"He fell."

Ginny's hand flies to her mouth. Her knees buckle slightly and she sits down on the cold steps, stunned silent.

Steve sits beside her.

"I—I tried to grab him. I did. But..." He trails off, shoulders trembling, jaw clenched.

A long pause.

And then, very quietly, Ginny says—

"She's gone too."

Steve turns to her, startled.

Ginny looks up at him, eyes shinning with tears.

"She went missing months ago. Vanished without a trace. Everyone said she just... ran off. Or couldn't handle the waiting. But I know her, Steve. She wouldn't have left Bucky behind. Not like that."

His breath catches. "You mean... She's—"

"Presumed dead," Ginny whispers.

Two ghosts.

Gone from the same war.

Steve sits there in stunned silence, his heart pounding. His chest aches, not just from grief—but from someone else.

Something he doesn't understand yet.

Because a part of him refuses to believe you and Bucky are truly gone.

Not without a fight.

✪──────•••──────✪

HYDRA Facility, Siberia

The cold is deeper here.

Not the kind you shake off. The kind that settles in your bones. The kind that erases.

Deep beneath the mountains, behind reinforced steel and layers of silence, another name begins to die.

James Buchanan Barnes has been recovered from the snow—barely alive, missing an arm, his body broken from the fall.

But HYDRA sees something in the wreckage.

They see potential.

He wakes strapped to a table, screaming hoarsely until his voice gives out. He doesn't know where he is, or who these people are. His last memory is wind, ice, Steve's voice shouting his name.

And then—nothing.

Pain. Lights. Needles. Blades.

He screams for Steve. For you.

But your name has already been classified under "non-essential."

Too long gone. Too far buried. Too... erased.

HYDRA doesn't speak to him much.

Only orders. Commands. Numbers.

HYDRA scientists begin attaching the prosthetic. Flesh meets cold steel. Sparks fly. Screws tighten.

"актив будет возрожден" [Asset will be reborn]

"кондиционирование начинается через 72 часа" [Conditioning begins in 72 hours]

There is no ceremony. No humanity. Only protocol.

✪──────•••──────✪

HYDRA Facility, Siberia - 1947

The snowstorm outside howls against the mountains, but inside the lab, the air is clinical. Cold. Dead.

You stand perfectly still in a sterile chamber lined with reinforced steel and humming lights. Your breathing is calm. Steady. You've just returned from a mission in Warsaw—clean, quiet, fatal. No witnesses.

The report simply reads: "Success"

A man in a white coat circles you, clipboard in hand. Dr. Liska watches from a raised observation window, her eyes narrowed behind glass. a new protocol is being tested—one borrowed from a similar program now perfected in the adjoining sector.

Cryostasis.

They say it reduced memory degradation. Preserves assets longer. Keeps emotion buried beneath ice.

The man stops in front of you.

"Asset Helix. Окно вашей миссии закрыто. Вы будете сохранены до следующего развертывания" [Asset Helix. Your mission window is closed. You will be stored until your next deployment]

You nod. No protest. No hesitation.

The chamber slides open.

Metal bracket hiss from the walls as you step inside. The light above flickers blue. A technician straps your wrists and ankles gently—almost respectfully. You lie back into frame.

A breath leaves your hips. Not from fear. From stillness.

As the freezing mist begins to rise, you stare forward—expression unreadable.

In the last second before your eyes close, a flicker of something dances behind your lids.

A name. A voice. A streetlamp.

Gone.

✪──────•••──────✪

Brooklyn, New York

Ginny stands outside Steve's deployment car, her coat buttoned tight, gloved hands clutching a letter she didn't want to send yet.

The wind tugs at her scarf as she looks up at him.

He smiles softly, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"I won't be long," he says.

Ginny tries to smile, but she's tired of promises that never come true. She steps in and hugs him tight, heart aching in the space left by two ghosts—you and Bucky.

"Just don't make me say goodbye to you too," she whispers into his coat.

He holds her like a brother. Like someone who knows what it is to lose everything and still move forward.

Then he boards the truck

She stands there long after he's done.

Alone.

✪──────•••──────✪

The Valkyrie - 30.000 ft Above the Arctic

Steve grips the controls, his knuckles white. Johann Schmidt—Red Skull—has vanished, pulled into the cosmos by the Tesseract. The plane is going down. Fast.

Steve doesn't panic.

He presses the receiver to his lips, voice calm.

"Peggy... I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance."

And then silence.

✪──────•••──────✪

Within weeks, the world mourns two heroes lost.

Captain America. Sergeant Barnes.

No one speaks of you. Or Black Helix. You have no grave.

Only ice.

And Silence.

✪──────•••──────✪

I have an idea for Loki but I think I'll do that once I'm done with this series. I also didn't expect this to be shorter than the other chapters but the end of this made me really sad when I was writing it out so i guess it makes up for it 😭

✪──────•••──────✪

Tags: @svtbpbts

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Why can Gallifreyans survive longer in the vacuum of space?

Why can Gallifreyans survive longer in the vacuum of space?

Let's begin with a simple truth: space kills you.

For humans, unprotected exposure to vacuum isn't instant death, but it's not a great way to spend your afternoon either. Contrary to dramatic human media, you don't explode, freeze, or shatter like glass. You suffocate.

🧍‍♂️ What Happens to a Human in Space?

Air escapes your lungs in seconds. If you try to hold your breath, your lungs may rupture from the pressure differential.

You lose consciousness from hypoxia in 10–15 seconds.

Water in your tissues begins to evaporate, causing swelling (but not ballooning).

Your body temperature drops slowly—space is cold, but heat loss happens by radiation, not convection.

Radiation exposure is extreme, with no atmosphere or magnetic shielding.

Death occurs within 1.5–3 minutes, usually from oxygen deprivation or heart failure.

So... what makes Gallifreyans different?

🫁 1. Respiratory Bypass System

This is the Gallifreyan's ace-in-the-hole.

Unlike humans, Gallifreyans can voluntarily shut off all respiratory activity by closing a specialised tracheal sphincter, entering a kind of metabolic lockdown. No inhalation, no exhalation—just internal crisis management.

Their body scavenges oxygen:

Muscles slow

Heart rate drops

The kaizegea (a small subpulmonary structure) begins to break down CO₂, recapturing oxygen molecules

Neural overrides prevent gasping or reflexive panic

This buys them 3–6 minutes of conscious survival. If they enter a trance or healing coma, this can stretch to 30 minutes, though the hangover is unpleasant and may involve temporary blindness, nausea, or screaming telepathic echoes.

🫀 2. Dual Hearts = Redundancy + Stability

Two hearts allow Gallifreyans to:

Maintain perfusion under stress

Selectively reroute or reduce blood flow

Withstand circulatory turbulence during decompression

They can even slow or temporarily stop one heart to conserve energy, using the other to keep vital organs ticking. In a vacuum, where pressure drops sharply, this redundancy helps maintain internal balance long enough to escape.

🧊 3. Thermal Resistance + Tissue Integrity

Gallifreyans resist vacuum-induced cold and trauma longer due to:

Triple-helix DNA → stronger cellular cohesion

Lindos-based telomeres → enhanced structural integrity

Low baseline temperature (15–19°C) → built-in cold tolerance

Radiation-resistant skin → doesn't peel after two seconds in the sun

They also tolerate a wider thermal range (they actually probably prefer cold environments), and their bodies can enter healing states that reduce heat loss and preserve organ function.

🧠 4. Neural Override Training

None of this works if you panic. Gallifreyan children are taught to override autonomic responses. They can:

Suppress pain

Inhibit breathing reflexes

Lower cognitive function into a survival trance

Where a human would seize, gasp, or blackout, a Gallifreyan might just dim down, running on minimal cerebral activity while their cells quietly triage themselves.

🛠️ In Practice…

A Gallifreyan exposed to vacuum can:

Remain conscious for several minutes

Survive up to half an hour if tranced

Recover from moderate tissue damage and neural disruption with time, tea, and a proper coma

But it’s not without consequences. Prolonged exposure risks:

Blindness

Psionic disorientation

Muscle necrosis

Migraines that feel like someone's ringing a Cloister Bell inside your skull

❓ Bonus: What If They Regenerate in Space?

Bad things.

Regeneration requires oxygen, energy, and metabolic stability. In a vacuum, most of that is unavailable. A Gallifreyan who initiates regeneration mid-spacewalk may survive, but outcomes are unpredictable:

The body may remain incomplete.

The brain may not fully stabilise.

Or, worst of all, the process may stall halfway, leaving the Gallifreyan between forms—biologically unstable and totally out of your nightmares.

Let's just say it's discouraged.

🏫So...

Space is bad. But Gallifreyans are badass. With the right training they can outlast the vacuum longer than most—except perhaps cockroaches (really. Google it.).

Related:

💬|🫁😮‍💨How do Oxygen levels affect Time Lords?: The effects of different oxygen levels on Time Lords and their respiratory resilience.

💬|🫁🏊Can Time Lords prevent deep sea diving conditions?: Possible effects and defences against conditions like narcosis and decompression sickness.

💬|👁️🌡️What is a Time Lord's ideal environmental temperature range?: Comfortable temperature environment ranges for Gallifreyans and a look at extreme temperatures.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴