#holy crap that's long

[lynxgriffin]

Mightier Than The Sword

Gerson had one regret, but now Alvin has many. A fancomic about my thoughts and theories and who -and what- the Knight is!

While not directly connected, I'd say this one is in the same vein as the Deal With The Devil series! Hope you enjoy!

Alt text for this comic under the read more:

Page 1

Panel 1 - Wide shot of the interior of the Boom household. Several monsters are gathered in a clean-looking hall, dressed in somber clothing and talking quietly in small groups. The monsters include QC, Cat Mom, Toriel, Asgore and Mayor Holiday. Father Alvin stands waiting at a door in the hall as his sister, a red-headed turtle monster in a pink dress, exits through the door and speaks to him. “Alvin…he’s ready for you.”

Panel 2 - Mid shot as Alvin prepares to enter the room. Ms. Boom steps out of the way, and puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Both of them look somber. 

Panel 3 - Alvin enters the room, mostly dark and lit by a few candles on a nearby desk. Gerson Boom is lying on a bed ahead of him, watching him enter. Alvin closes the door behind him and says, “Father, I’m here.”

Panel 4 - Alvin approaches his father, lying in bed. The bedroom has a few amenities, including a footstool set off to the side, a large rug bearing the delta rune, and a massive bookcase filling the entire back wall. A few books and papers litter the ground. Alvin bows his head, and says, “The hammer is ready for…for afterwards.”

Gerson just smiles, and responds, “Wa ha, is it? Well, it’ll do fine, I suppose.”

Panel 5 - Closer shot of Gerson extending his right hand towards Alvin. He’s smiling still, content with where he is. “Come here, son.”

Page 2

Panel 1 - Closeup as Alvin takes his father’s hand in his own, and clasps it tight. “Whatever you need…I’m here,” he says from offscreen.

Panel 2 - Alvin kneels by his father’s bedside, still clasping his hands. Gerson says, “Of course you are. Wa ha…you’re such a good and kind man, Alvin.”

Panel 3 - Closeup on Alvin as he just holds on to his father’s hand. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. 

Panel 4 - Focus on Gerson as he holds up a hand to conspiratorially whisper to Alvin. “And I know I can trust you with a secret, right?”

Panel 5 - Closeup on Alvin as he looks back up, face earnest. “...Of course.”

Panel 6 - Gerson holds up one finger as he speaks to Alvin. “I told your sister I had no regrets, but that was a BIT of a fib! I’m afraid I have one regret…”

Panel 7 - Side view of Alvin as he learns closer, his face now worried. “Father?...”

Page 3

Panel 1 - Focus on Gerson as he leans back on his pillow, looking up at the ceiling. “I wish I had started earlier. Writing stories, I mean. Seein’ you an’ your sister’s eyes light up whenever I read you a new chapter…and then seeing all that joy from so many young folks after those stories were published!” he says, looking wistful.

Panel 2 - Alvin watches on sadly as Gerson continues, “It was the greatest feeling in the world, Alvin. It’s what life’s all about, y’know. Helping the young folks grow.”

Panel 3 - Gerson closes his eyes and looks back towards the ceiling again, still wistful. “So, I wish I’d started writing stories sooner.”

Panel 4 - Closeup on Alvin as he bows his head, still holding Gerson’s hand. “I truly do cherish those times you read to us, father…” he says.

Panel 5 - Closeup on Gerson as he closes his mind with happy memories. “Me too, Alvin. It’s a shame…I’ve still got so many tales to tell! But–”

Panel 6 - Gerson is interrupted by a round of hacking coughs. His time is fast approaching.

Panel 7 - Gerson settles back in to his bed and says, “The Angel’s given me SO many good, happy years. Doesn’t seem fair to ask for more.”

Panel 8 - Closeup on Alvin as he continues to hold his father’s hand tight. “This doesn’t seem fair, either…” he says, tears still pricking at his eyes.

Page 4

Panel 1 -  Insert closeup of Gerson as he smiles at his son. “That’s life, Alvin!” He doesn’t seem bothered by his imminent passing.

Panel 2 - Side view as Gerson leans in closer to Alvin again, hand raised, back to sharing his secrets. “But, knowin’ my secret…there’s something I’d like to ask of you.”

Alvin faces his father with seriousness. “Anything,” he replies.

Panel 3 - Closeup on Gerson, as he looks hopefully at Alvin. “You have a good heart, Alvin. I want you to know this joy, too.”

Panel 4 - Gerson continues in the next panel: “Please try writin’ stories of your own, alright?” Closeup on Alvin as he looks shocked and a bit worried by the request.

Panel 5 - Mid shot as Alvin holds up a hand to Gerson in protest. He says, “Father, I…I have no talent for writing fiction. Not like YOU.”

Panel 6 - Closeup on Gerson as he refutes his son: “Hogwash! I know you can.”

Panel 7 - Wide shot as Alvin stands up, and looks around the room. “No, I…”

In the foreground, there’s Gerson’s desk, currently showing some lit candles, some paper, an inkwell, a notebook, and his favorite fountain pen.

Page 5

Panel 1 - Closeup as Alvin grabs two objects off of the desk: the small notebook and the fountain pen. Offscreen, he says, “If you just…”

Panel 2 - Back at Gerson’s bedside, Alvin pulls up the footstool and puts the pen and notebook in front of him, intending to use it. He faces his father, and says, “Tell me your ideas, I could write them down, and–”

Gerson interrupts him: “‘Fraid it doesn’t work that way, Alvin!”

Panel 3 - Gerson holds up both of his hands and smiles as he explains: “My tales are between my soul and the pen. You’ll need to make your own.”

Panel 4 - Gerson watches as Alvin, tears in his eyes, looks down at the notebook and pen in hand. “I–I cannot…” Alvin starts, looking despondent.

Panel 5 - Side view of Alvin as tears continue to stream from his eyes. He says, “Not without you!” In the background, in grayscale, there is a scene from Alvin’s memory: Gerson reading a book to his two children by the fire. Gerson looks happy, and both kids are enraptured, with Alvin clinging to a cat doll that looks like Seam.

Panel 6 - Closeup on Gerson, his face now more worried and pleading towards Alvin. Gerson says, “Y-you can… It’s all I ask…”

Panel 7 - Gerson turns away as he’s again interrupted by a round of terrible sounding coughs. Alvin stands holding the notebook and pen in the foreground.

Page 6

Panel 1 - Horror comes over Alvin’s face as his father continues to cough loudly, clutching his chest. He realizes that his father might be close to death now.

Panel 2 - Wider overhead shot as Alvin turns away from Gerson, looking frantically around the room. “No! Not yet!--” he says desperately. Gerson is still racked with coughs.

Panel 3 - Closeup as Alvin grabs the candles from the desk–

Panel 4 - And then pulls a book from the bookshelf, with the delta rune on the front –

Panel 5 - And then finally pulls out what appears to be a beaded rosary, with the delta rune made of beads at the end of it.

Panel 6 - Wider shot as Alvin places the objects in front of him, candles to the side, holy book in front of him. Gerson can only lay there as he does so, trying to catch his breath.

Panel 7 - Front view of Alvin as he clasps his hands together in front of his face, the rosary threaded between his fingers. He closes his eyes and bows his head in prayer. “Angel…Angel above! Please, heed your servant’s prayer!”

Page 7

Panel 1 - Closeup on Alvin as he continues to pray, the candles glowing around him. He keeps his eyes shut even as tears well in them. “I know you call back my father’s soul, but please! Please refrain!”

Panel 2 - Gerson desperately reaches a hand out towards his son, shaking, but unable to reach him. In the foreground, the fountain pen sits on the footstool between them. “A-Alvin…” Gerson’s voice is shaky now.

Panel 3 - Aerial shot as Alvin prays over the book, and Gerson is still confined to the bed, only able to watch. “This world still NEEDS his gifts!” Alvin says. “I pray to you, don’t take them from us now!” The shadows around Alvin start to grow strange, not matching the candlelight.

Panel 4 - Gerson continues to hold out a hand, now not looking well. “No…”

Panel 5 - Closeup on the candles as they spark to life, now glowing stronger.

Panel 6 - A strange bright glow begins to emanate from Gerson. Behind him, the books in the bookcase all rattle and shift as if in a localized earthquake. The colors of the room grow brighter and stranger.

Panel 7 - Still reaching out a desperate hand, Gerson lets out a soft breath. His soul, an upside-down white heart, comes up from his body. On the footstool in the foreground, the fountain pen also begins to levitate, as if by magic.

Page 8

Panel 1 - Front shot of Alvin as he continues to pray desperately, his head bowed and hands together. “Grant us the love shown between his soul and the pen!” Behind him, the colors have grown stark and bright, and a shadow resembling the angel looms behind Alvin.

Panel 2 - Alvin looks up to discover something amazing and terrible: Gerson’s soul has been drawn to the fountain pen, and begins to flow down into it.

Panel 3 - Closeup as Gerson’s soul is completely absorbed into the pen, hovering high over the bed.

Panel 4 - The candles turn strange blue and pink colors, and the books in the bookcase shake and rattle relentlessly.

Panel 5 - Extreme closeup on Alvin’s eyes as he sees this miracle; the light of his father’s soul reflected in his eyes.

Panel 6 - Closeup as the pen suddenly drops, and clatters back on to the footstool.

Panel 7 - Wide aerial shot as the room very suddenly goes completely dark and silent, the bright colors and lights now gone. Alvin stands up and backs away from the bed, still clutching the rosary, his face filled with horror. Gerson now lies unmoving in his bed, having passed away.

Page 9

Panel 1 - The same shot as the first panel of the first page, with the other monsters waiting in the hallway. No one says anything as Alvin emerges from the bedroom, leaning on the door for support, his head bowed. Everyone in the room knows that Gerson has just passed, although they don’t know the rest.

Panel 2 - An establishing shot of the forest and mountains surrounding Hometown…the skies are a dark, gloomy gray.

Panel 3 - Above shot of Gerson’s newly dug grave. At the bottom of a small pit lies Gerson’s hammer, covered in his dust. Politics Bear stands over the grave, holding a shovel. 

Panel 4 - Closeup as the shovel begins to dump dirt over the fresh grave.

Panel 5 - Another closeup of Gerson’s headstone, with bundles of fresh funerary flowers laid in front of it.

Panel 6 - Wide shot of Gerson’s funeral. Alvin stands over his father’s grave, reading last rites from one of his books. Lots of monsters are in attendance, including Alphys and Undyne, Napstablook, the Holiday and Dreemurr families, and more. A very young Kris, Noelle and Asriel are present, but Dess is not. Everyone is dressed in dark mourning attire.

Panel 7 - After the funeral, Toriel approaches Alvin and puts a hand on his shoulder. She says, “Beautifully said, Alvin. I know your father is watching proudly by the side of the Angel.” Alvin looks distant and mournful.

Panel 8 - A closeup of the fountain pen laying forgotten on the desk in Gerson’s room. Gerson is, perhaps, not actually with the Angel right now.

Panel 9 - Back at the funeral, Alvin bows his head, eyes closed. “You are too kind, Toriel,” he says.

Page 10

Panels 1-3 - We see the seasons pass through the changing of the trees…from the barren white trees of winter, to colorful pink blooms for spring, to the bright oranges and reds of fall.

Panel 4 - Sometime much later, Alvin again enters his father’s old room, alone.

Panel 5 - Much of Gerson’s room has remained untouched. The fountain pen still sits on his old writing desk in the foreground. Alvin steps inside, and carefully turns on the overhead light. “It’s been years,” he says.

Panel 6 - Alvin cautiously approaches the pen, which seems to loom large ahead of him. He hesitantly picks it up.

Panel 7 - Alvin places some blank pages on the writing desk. “Surely…”

Panel 8 - Alvin sits in front of the blank pages, still holding the pen cautiously. “Surely by now, I can do it.” He’s going to try writing.

Panel 9 - Closeup as Alvin dips the pen in the inkwell, and it comes away full of ink.

Panel 10 - Closeup as Alvin holds the pen over the blank page. The pen trembles slightly in his grip.

Panel 11 - Alvin tries to put pen to paper, but he’s still trembling. He looks down with great anxiety. “I…I…”

Panel 12 - Closeup on Alvin’s face as he looks more panicked, shaking and sweating. In the background, his memory of his father’s soul being absorbed into the pen plays back at him. This is still his fault.

Panel 13 - Closeup again as Alvin’s hand shakes uncontrollably, and the pen with it. Ink spots begin to dapple the blank page–

Page 11

Panel 1 - Alvin’s shaking hand accidentally knocks over the inkwell, and it spills black ink all over the blank page.

Panel 2 - Alvin picks up the ruined paper and folds it in half to try and stem the ink spillage. He quietly curses to himself. 

Panel 3 - Closeup as Alvin holds his head in his hand. It’s clear that this isn’t going to work. “I can’t…” 

Panel 4 - Closeup as Alvin puts the ink-stained paper back on the desk, and quickly grabs up the pen and inkwell.

Panel 5 - Taking the pen and inkwell, Alvin exits his father’s room again, head bowed and expression sad.

Panel 6 - Left behind, the folded paper slowly peels apart and unfolds…

Panel 7 - To reveal that the spilled ink has created a rorschach ink blot image of a titan. 

Page 12

Panel 1 - Wide shot as Alvin trudges down the streets of Hometown, alone. His head his bowed, and he’s still clutching the articles he took with him. It’s almost nighttime, and the sky is dark. “I cannot bear this kind of burden,” he says to himself.

Panel 2 - Shot from behind Alvin as he approaches the school building. It’s dark, and no students or teachers should be there. “Maybe you belong where you always have…”

Panel 3 - Now indoors, Alvin continues down the empty hallway towards a particular destination. “With the youth.”

Panel 4 - Alvin opens the door to the storage closet at the end of the hall. It opens with a soft creak. “Teaching. Telling stories,” Alvin continues to say to himself.

Panel 5 - Alvin places the fountain pen and inkwell on a small shelf in the storage closet. The closet is almost completely black. 

Panel 6 - The inkwell and pen are left on the shelf as Alvin closes the door behind him. His expression is mournful as he locks these reminders of his father away. “Inspiring someone better suited,” he says, hoping this is a suitable escape of his responsibility.

Page 13

Panel 1 - But in the storage closet, the objects are subject to something else already there: the grand Dark Fountain. The pen, ink and papers all fall into the darkness of the fountain–

Panel 2 - And start to change, the pen seemingly turning into liquid itself–

Panel 3 - As the pen falls deeper and deeper into the dark, the liquid begins to reshape into something new, something resembling a person–

Panel 4 - Until it lands on empty ground, now a person in knight’s armor, knelt over and holding his head in his hands.

Panel 5 - The Knight comes to, and starts to become more aware. He’s dressed in armor resembling the dark metallic sheen of the fountain pen, his mask resembling the pen tip. A bright deep red cape flows from his shoulders, and a single red-orange feather tops the helmet. “Where…am I?”

Panel 6 - The Knight again touches his helmet with both hands, as if not sure exactly what he is.

Panel 7 - Interior shot of the helmet, which reveals a figure much like Gerson…but much younger, more idealized-looking, with colors not matching his actual self. A Dark World interpretation. “WHY am I…?”

Panel 8 - A closeup of the Knight’s hand, slightly trembling.

Panel 9 - The Knight stares down at his own hands as realization begins to flood him, or at least something that looks like realization. “Wait. I see why. I KNOW.” he says.

 Page 14

Panel 1 - The Knight holds up his hand, and a sword appears in it in a flash of lights. The sword resembles the tip of a fountain pen, almost split neatly in two. “I serve the Lightners! That is my purpose!” Says the Knight. 

Panel 2 - The Knight draws the sword back with great fervor and determination. His thoughts echo around him in strong letters: “A purpose so bright, so clear…”

Panel 3 - In the final panel, the Knight drives the sword into the ground, causing an eruption of black ink-like material to spew from the ground…the creation of a new Dark Fountain. In the fountain itself, words reflect his purpose: “I EXIST TO GIVE THEM STORIES FOREVER.”

[kakujis]

you only call me on the weekend.

warnings: afab!fem reader, situationship, unrequited feelings, oliver can't admit he loves you, praise, creamp*e, implied multiple rounds, that should be it! not proofread.

ft + wc: oliver aiku hehe. around 1.6k

a/n: THIS IS A REPOST! I'm trying to get back into the swing of things, but alas, I am extremely busy with end of semester stuff. This got fl*gged so I'm hoping this repost can make it to more ppl, mwah to all the new Oliver lovers!!

you hate oliver aiku. you hate the missed calls, the times he’s stood you up, and the amount of times he’s left you on read. but when your phone chimed that night and you saw his name etched across the brightly lit screen of your phone, you didn’t hesitate to open it. 

oliver♡: hey baby, you free tonight? 

don’t respond. don’t fall so easily. don’t give him what he wants. this is the mantra that you tell yourself every time he pops up, whenever the other girls he pursues turns him down and he tries to come crawling back to you for the sake of getting his dick wet. 

but you’re weak for him and that’s why you respond without fail every time. 

y/n: i might be. why? 

you bite your lip, fuck, you know why. 

oliver♡: i miss you, pretty girl. that’s why. let me come over, yeah? 

that stupid phrase has your thighs rubbing together and you can feel your resolve, what little you had anyway, cracking. 

y/n: mm, dunno. 

oliver♡: you don’t miss me? 

say no, your mind screams, for once, don’t let him get his way. 

y/n: …maybe a little. 

oliver♡: be there soon, <3. 

y/n: that doesn’t mean come over! 

you sigh, frowning and turning your phone off before tossing it to the side. you try to immerse yourself back into the show you were watching, but the prospect of oliver coming made your hands clammy and you’re unsure if it’s due to nerves or excitement.

there’s a knock on your door and your stomach drops, fuck that was fast. of course he was nearby, he knows you can’t say no. and that's the annoying part, that he was waiting nearby, planning, no, knowing that you would let him in.

as you walk over, you steel yourself, you’re gonna give him a piece of your mind this time. if he wants to keep fucking you, then he needs to put a little more effort in. yeah, that’s it, that’s what you’ll say. 

but as soon as the door opens, he’s on you. you can’t even get a syllable out before he’s slamming you against the wall and crashing his lips onto yours. he kisses you like he’s starving, like you’re the first meal he’s had in years.

you can barely breathe, the air sucked out of your lungs as he picks you up, your legs naturally curling around his waist, while your nails are digging into his shoulders as he turns and kicks the door shut. 

he’s fast, barely stumbling down the hallway as he walks you to the bedroom. throwing you down onto the bed, you’re given a moment of respite, gasping. 

“oliver-“ you try, but he’s back on you instantly, slipping his tongue in, while some drool runs from your mouth. he tugs at the waistband of your shorts, before sliding them off.

his fingers ghost your clothed pussy, groaning when he feels the wet patch on your undies. he leaves your mouth to leave sloppy, wet kisses across your cheek before he’s growling in your ear, “you’re always soaked when i’m around, aren’t you?” 

you whine out a needy and breathless, “mhm,” mind already hazy and resistance long gone. you tug at his shirt and he gives a light laugh, that makes your heart ache, before pulling it off. 

“your turn.” he says and you scramble to take yours off. “god, you’re so pretty.” he hums, hand trailing through the valley of your breasts, making you tremble. you burn under his hungry gaze, trying to look away, but he catches you. your chin caught between the pad of his thumb and pointer finger, “eyes on me.” 

you watch as he takes your panties off next, another hum of approval from him when he sees your glistening folds. he was right, you were soaked and eager, your body reacting to every touch or word he gives.

you hate oliver aiku. you hate how he makes you burn with the desire, how every touch of his hand across the expanse of your skin has you whimpering. you hate that he always knows what to say to keep you wrapped around his finger, his words keeping you collared to him. 

but god do you love the stretch of his thick cock as it slides into your dripping cunt, mewling as he sinks down, inch by inch. he grits his teeth as he bottoms out, stilling a bit to let you adjust, before he’s driving into you like he hasn’t seen you in years. 

sometimes, you think you were made for him. the way no other fling ever brings you as high as oliver does. his cock hits all the right places, your face contorted in pleasure as the slap! of skin against skin reverberates within the room. or maybe, you think like that because he tells you that. “fuck baby,” he hisses, “ah, you were fucking made for me, shit.” 

oliver knows you like the palm of his hand. he knows when you want him to talk to you sweetly. he knows when you want him to growl obscenities in your ear. but most of all, he knows you always want him to fuck you stupid. 

your whines are like music to his ears, as he thrusts into you, heavy balls against your ass. your head falls back against the pillow, eyes closing as you let the pleasure wash over you. but oliver tsks, hooking his thumb into your mouth and jerking it downward. your eyes fly open as he grunts, “i said, eyes on me.” 

“s-sorry,” you whimper, trying to maintain eye contact with him, “ah, fuck!” but you just can’t, each thrust against your sweet spot has your eyes rolling back. you feel his hand on the back of your head, making sure you can’t throw it back, he wants to see it all, every fucked out expression you’ll give him. 

it’s part of his ego to see you come undone on him. he loves that such a pretty thing like you lets him ruin you. in fact he craves it so much that he’s basically stopped sleeping around with others. he thinks you’re the cutest thing to cream on his cock, especially when you paw and whine that “ts too much!” 

unfortunately for him, he’s not gonna be able to hold back this time. the noises you’re making are too pretty and the clench of your pussy feels too good. he’s sure this is the closest to love he’s ever gotten. 

“‘m gonna,” you gasp, glassy eyes gazing up into his, “oliver, i’m-“ 

“i know, baby,” he coos, “you’re, ah, gonna cum right? cum for me, yeah?” 

it’s embarrassing how quickly you do, the legs wrapped around him trembling as you clench down on his cock, vision blurring. 

“that’s it,” he praises, fucking you through your high, “good fuckin’ girl.” and it’s not long til he’s coming undone too, groaning as he fills your pussy up, painting it in hot white ropes. 

he pulls you in and you squeak, before he’s pressing a deep kiss into your lips. it’s the first time he’s done this and you’re caught off guard by the intimacy. but you don’t fight it, closing your eyes as he gives you kiss after kiss. 

“let me stay the night.” he says in between kisses and you pull away, pushing his face back with your hand. you blink at him, perplexed. did he get hit in the head? not only has he not pulled out, but he’s even asking to stay the night? 

“… who are you and what have you done with oliver aiku?” but he laughs at your confused expression. 

“c’mon, i drove all the way here princess.” he teases and you tilt your head, brow furrowed. it’s annoying, as if you’ve never done that for him before. he’s not sure you notice the way that turns him on, but the blood’s already started rushing to his once softening cock. 

you do notice and you frown, “you just wanna fuck me again.” 

“what’s so wrong with that?” he asks and you groan, pushing him off hard enough that he slips out of you. you roll over, curling up into your side, feeling his seed drip onto the sheets. 

“ugh, just go away oliver. i need to take a shower.” you feel stupid, dumb, and a little used but you refuse to cry in his presence, making a mental note that you really need to cut things off. but settles in next to you, throwing his arms over you and pulling you close. 

“that’s not the only reason,” he sighs and your heart flutters,  “besides, have i ever told you you’re my favorite?” 

“not funny.” you deadpan, it’s stupid but your heart does feel a little lighter. you feel his hands wander over your body and you curse yourself for being so weak, feeling his stubble brush against your skin before he presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“i just wanna spend some time with you, i missed you.” he murmurs, breath hot on your ear. your breath hitches as he finds your puffy clit, rubbing slow, sticky circles. 

“fine… but only because i love you.” you whimper as you spread your legs for him again, giving in for the nth time. you hate oliver aiku, but only because you’re so stupid in love with him. he knows, but he bites back the urge to say it back and let you know that you don't have to worry about it. you're not just his favorite, but his one and only.

“good girl.” he growls, before hooking a hand on the back of your knee, spreading you wider. maybe one day he’ll say it back. 

[mabaki]

SUITS SUITS SUITS SUITS

Pyrrhus ( @dion-iron ) & Rhywel Caira ( @floral-necromaniac ) & Mabaki Eselv & Pagi ( Hubs ) Maelgwyn ( @creativebrainrot ) & Lysyldur

I was lounging around, boring myself, until i had a sudden layout inspiration and just stayed up all night to draw this LMAO

[ihatebrainstorm]

A little sneak peak at my piece for the Reverse Big Bang event! >:)

Collaborated with @novafire-is-thinking on this so go have a gander at their tie-in fic "Elegant Chaos, Inelegant Solutions" once it comes out! :D Link to Nova’s fic preview: here

Event coordinators: @tf-bigbang

[iffasart]

(This was supposed to be for @campbenji JWCTcountdown: fav season/episode buuuut i made the sketch and forgot about it :,/ )

"I don't care what's out there! I'm saving her."

Fav episode is "The long run", Its SO WELL WRITTEN AND ANIMATED AND YASAMMY

(Close-ups under the cut!!)

[virapocalypse]

⚠️ Trigger Warning: Scars, Threatening

Virapocalypse Chapter 1 Pages 7 and 8

Sorry for the wait!!! Been busy as heck!!!

[silvysartfulness]

Chapter 59 - This City Dappled With Colour of Heaven Has A Road But No One Walks It is up! :D

You saying you'd kill for me Daozhang..? Xue Yang had asked as they stood among a mountain of slain fierce corpses, bloodied, bruised, breathless.

May I never have to, he’d answered – knowing then, as he did now, that if it was that or losing Xue Yang forever, the answer could only be yes.

The moment the door closed behind them, Xiao Xingchen lurched forward and caught Xue Yang in his arms, crushing him close. He made a startled sound, then laughed and hugged him back.

Here, still here.

Just a day ago, Xiao Xingchen had woken with a path ahead both clear and comfortably distant – journey to Gusu and meet with the Chief Cultivator to ask for his collaboration in realizing their lofty dream.

And only a few hours later, as if laughing at him, the universe sent the Chief Cultivator right into their path long before they were ready, offering boons with one hand and condemnation with the other, an impossible price to pay.

Xiao Xingchen held Xue Yang closer, breathing him, holding back tears.

——

They're doing fine. 🙂

I've been sick a lot this summer, even ended up in hospital for a bit (I'm doing better now!) so the writing has been far slower than I'd hoped. But slowly, steadily we're moving forward!

I want to thank you all so much for giving me comments on the last chapter for my birthday, what a wondrous treat that was! Thank you, thank you! It meant so much!

Whenever my motivation falters, I go back and read your words of encouragement, and press on. I couldn't do this without you. 💚

[supd00dle]

Hello! I just wanna say a couple of things

LOVE LOVE LOVE your art style and Organic M Sonic AU. I always have a big dumb grin seeing your art on my timeline and I wish you the best of health, yummy snacks, vibes and all good things heading your way! 💞💞💞 Truly incredible

I have been snooping on your site ( im embarrassed to say every day lol ) and I noticed some old art of what looks like organic Metal Knuckles? Will you do anything thing with him and Tails doll in the future?

3. Also what are your thoughts on Android Shadow from Heroes/SHTH, Hard Boiled Heavies from Mania and Fang MK2 from superstars? Since they are in the eggman robot family ( ? )

Anyway I hope you have a fantastic day and keep up the good work! :) 🎉🌟

Here's a 2 min doodle as a gift! Sorry my drawings are chicken scratch lol

I have a couple of things I wanna say to you too.

1. Thank you so much for your kind words and support!! I'm happy to hear you feel that way about my work! 💕 I wish you the very best and I hope you have a good day or a good night! ✨

2. "Organic" Metal Knuckles was just a concept.. nothing much to it as I was only focusing on Metal. BUT!!! As I'm developing new ideas and other stuff. I'm rethinking of a new design for both Metal Knuckles and Tails (doll) in the future!!!

3. Android Shadow is pretty cool. Piss man yellow man. I know there's more colors than yellow but that one is my favorite.

I never got to finish Mania but I love the Hard Boiled Heavies from their awesome colorful design. I actually drew Heavy King not too long ago...

Unfortunately, I haven't played Superstars yet but, holy shit?? BIG FANG MECHA ROBOT??

Anyways, Thank you so much for your support and the AWESOME DOODLE!! I LOVE IT!

[nexternalknowsthingz]

The sketch is done!!! 🩵🩵

[collectorsinn]

Today. Kaeya's confident he's confessing to you today.

He has been saying this for a week, internally, and the idea of confessing and a relationship had been on his mind for a month or two; there had been factors prolonging his step to confession — whether it'd be a sudden conversation switch or someone's intervention.

He's usually been smooth with conversations, but when it comes to confessions with long-term consequences, he finds it hard not to run away from it (like an instinct, or a fight-or-flight reaction, in which he chooses flight).

He's been picturing your reactions: from acceptance, to rejection.

Despite having confidence in his natural charisma and charm, he can't help but imagine being rejected — its aftermath of a bone-chilling awkwardness between you two which forms a gulf he wouid have to actively patch up. It's been haunting his mind, and he's decided the best way to deal with it is to confess.

"Good-morning, (Y/N)."

"Captain Kaeya, good-morning."

"There's something I have to speak with you about, personal matters."

"What is it Captai-"

"Captain Kaeya, good-mornin'!" one of the aunties said, passing by the stalls with a basket in her hands — seemingly shopping for fresh fruit.

Kaeya feels his eyes soften, somehow this always happens and it's slowly becoming a mystery to him as to why. "Good-morning, Ms. Joels!"

Ms. Joels waves for a bit before returning back to shopping along the stalls. Kaeya feels his tense shoulders unwittingly relax — he's used to it at this point, and truthfully speaking, he was a bit relieved.

"Captain Kaeya."

"Ah, yes (Y/N)?"

"I like you."

He feels his eyes widen.

"I'm sorry, pardon?"

"I like you, Kaeya."

You were met with silence. He blinks at you for a good minute before a smirk formed on his lips.

"Ohoho~ I see you've taken a liking to me too. Who knew you would've beaten me to a confession! I suppose this ought to start a path into our more intimate relationship?"

You stare at him in silence, you suppose he has accepted your confession? And also, you've beaten him to a confession? You feel yourself breathe a sigh of relief, one that falls on deaf ears — for Kaeya could only hear the sound of his beating heart.

It's unbearably loud, and oddly quick. He could feel it vibrate through his whole being. Though he had quickly composed himself, his heart wasn't one to lie.

"Let's meet again tonight, I have a few tasks to attend to." He looks at the sky, the sun had risen bright and high, before his gaze lands back onto you. "See you soon, (Y/N)."

He flashed you a smile before walking back toward the Favonious Headquarters. It was then you saw he had dropped a pen that sat on, you guess, his fist?

You call out his name, grabbing the pen off the floor and retrieving it, bringing it back to its original owner. "Kaeya!"

He isn't answering you, in fact, he's walking forward, seemingly walking faster — rushing toward the headquarters. He has been doing this for a while. He meets with you and talks to you for a bit before rushing back to his workplace.

Its to wonder why he bothers. He's always walking increasingly faster, and dodges all your questions.

"Kaeya!" You finally caught up to him,and it seems he has finally gained back consciousness! "You dropped your pen..."

You feel your words trail off as you looked at Kaeya's face.

His widened gaze wanders from his hands to yours, and his furrowed brows are pressed tightly together. His jaw slacked as his cheeks were airbrushed with a tint of rosy pink. His hands, pulling away from his face, hangs loosely in the air — stunned.

"Let's meet tonight. See you later, (Y/N)!" he grabs the pen off of your hands and speed-walks toward the stairs, flustered and a little stunned.

[outofcontextdanandphil]

Why Dan went to the hospital - Out of context

[causeimanartist]

It's my 9 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

-

First drawing on this blog versus most recent - time sure has flown by! Thanks for 9 years of shenanigans

[everythingloveandanimated]

Okay I REALLY HATE that I’m thinking about this.

At some point in a future book, Murtagh and Thorn confront the Eldunarí for not intervening more in Murtagh’s life. The two come to the conclusion that Murtagh was written off and abandoned by them and by extension, Thorn was too for hatching for Murtagh. Neither of them are happy about this.

Eragon and Saphira, if feasible Arya and Firnen, are present when this goes down.

Saphira is frustrated because Murtagh played a big part in saving her, Eragon and Arya and went to the Varden even though it was dangerous for him. Arya and Eragon agree that it shows poor thanks for Murtagh’s help.

The Eldunarí defend themselves saying the wanted to see how alike Murtagh would be to Morzan. Murtagh all but demands to know what evidence, in full context of any given situation supports the assumption that he’s like his father.

His treason was forced, he’s shown regret at killing Hrothgar, he spared Eragon and Saphira at great cost to him and Thorn. He’s protected younglings, is willing to forge relationships with souls of other races. He has proven himself to be brave, noble, and a man of his word. He doesn’t delight in cruelty…

Thorn invites them to look into his soul and when they have, Thorn points out that he hatched for Murtagh, and is surprised, though does understand their distrust for Murtagh, that they aren’t willing to trust his judgement on Murtagh’s character through his hatching.

The Eldunarí say they couldn’t be sure. Anything could happen to make Murtagh into the ruthless monster that his father was.

Murtagh shares that he’s only ruthless against opponents who threaten or harm what is precious to him or what he deems as worthy of his protection. He, backed up by Eragon, then accuses them of writing him off and abandoning him to suffer in Galbatorix’s court because of things he didn’t do.

Things get heated and then the bomb is dropped. If Murtagh proved to be a threat the their safety and the future of the dragons and Riders, the Eldunarí would strip Thorn of his name.

Shock echoes around the room before anger explodes. Murtagh is LIVID!!! Thorn recoils in fear before baring his teeth but his bite has fear in it since he knows that act of the dragon’s can’t be undone. Saphira, Eragon and Arya take the Red Pair’s side. Calling the act uncalled for and cruel given what the two of them had been through.

Saphira and Arya scold the Eldunarí saying that their threat spits in the face of the lives that Murtagh has saved, including their own. They add that stripping Thorn of his name would irrevocably turn Murtagh against them. Saphira vows to protect her brethren from their callous cruelty.

Eragon is reeling that the Eldunarí would do something so cruel when the number of dragons and riders is already so small. They watched Murtagh and Thorn suffer, did nothing to save Murtagh from the Twins when they had done so much to aid Eragon. They gave Murtagh and Thorn a compliance test after Galbatorix was defeated. Failed to aid them against Bachel (if there was anything they could do in the first place). Now they threaten to banish the name of dragon who hatched when/because his chosen rider was a captive of their greatest foe?!?! (Beep) that!

Eragon puts his foot down at that.

Murtagh and Thorn, Arya and Saphira and Eragon are still fuming from the encounter. Underneath Murtagh’s rage is a fear that the Eldunarí could make good on their threat. Murtagh doesn’t know where their line is. He won’t attack them until they strike first, and even then he hopes he can overpower them before Thorn’s name is erased.

Eragon, Saphira and Arya are appalled and disappointed (and some level of ashamed and embarrassed?) by the Eldunarí. Arya points out that if Thorn’s name was erased and Murtagh attacked them, it would give them an excuse to eliminate Murtagh so they wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. Privately, she questions the history of riders that she’s known her whole life

Eragon is seething that they would dare harm his family member like this… and then it dawns on him. They had to know Galbatorix would want Eragon in his clutches for being a free dragon rider. They had to have known what kind of forces he would send to Carvahall to retrieve him and Saphira. They had to have known… and they did nothing to protect what was precious to Eragon. Not his uncle and childhood home, not the people of Carvahall, not even Murtagh who needed protection far more than Eragon did. A sudden terrible realization hits him… if all of this is true they didn’t care about Roran either! Even worse… did Selena die because the Eldunarí didn’t want to run the risk of her secret being revealed and Eragon being found. Did they turn a blind eye to her when she got sick? Was it punishment for marrying Morzan and giving him a son even though she had ultimately sided with Brom and had borne Eragon?

It is acknowledged that it’s not outside the realm of possibility. This is too far for Eragon. The Eldunarí meddling to save themselves has cost him most of his family, his loved ones, the leaders he respected and has damaged the relationships with the family he still has.

Eragon breaks down and eventually comes to the conclusion that, like Murtagh before him, he can reclaim his life and autonomy.

As punishment, all the Eldunarí on display are placed in the pocket in the wall with the corrupted Eldunarí. Eragon decrees he will not bring them out until their brethren are healed. He changes the magic on the pocket so that the Eldunarí combined can’t escape. He deems it a lesson in caring for others.

That night Murtagh and Thorn flee. Through lingering panic, Murtagh asks Thorn to say his true name, which he does. Murtagh asks him to repeat it several times until Thorn says it like a mantra lulling Murtagh to sleep.

The green and blue pairs find the red pair.

Eragon apologizes to Murtagh and Thorn for initially siding with the Eldunarí, and that he couldn’t stop Murtagh from being taken by the Twins, and he’s sorry for leaving in the first place instead of waiting for them to return so they could clear their names together.

Arya apologizes for not being able to save Murtagh and thus condemning him and Thorn to months of grueling torment and slavery. She vows to make up for her failure.

The trio and their dragons agree that they need to find a way to undo the memory erasing spells and stripping of names spell of the Dragons. The blue and green pairs promise to do their best to protect Murtagh and Thorn and affirm Thorn’s value and choice in his rider.

[hurlingdown]

Simple question: why don’t you want to write for female reader’s? Is it a ick? Does it make you feel uncomfortable, or more general. Like, you can just write for men better. I will not judge, because I completely understand and will respect the answer. If you feel comfortable enough to answer. You don’t have to if you don’t want.

Btw; since you’re a god at writing, I love love love, love love love, love it. Like, it inspires me to write more alongside my other friends! I love all that you write and do. <333

- Saturn 🪐

it’s not an ick or anything, honestly i’ll be happy to write for dom female readers if they’ll have me. i’m mostly worried about making them uncomfortable. (if you’re a female reader and you’re seeing this... do let me know!!)

glad my work helps to inspire you btw, thank you for reaching out <3

[ms-scarletwings]

This Single Oversight Will Bring Irken-Kind to Its Knees

I have a little riddle for you.

What does an ant nest, a computer, and the ancient city of Troy have in common?

While you ponder the significance of this question and consider your answer, there’s a few things I want to analyze about the worldbuilding of Invader Zim.

We may have heard it said before, least I have (and agree), that the fate of the IZ universe appears to be a rather bleak picture.

Through our lens of focus, being upon Earth and an oh-so specific nutball waging his battle upon humanity, we often don’t do as much thinking about the larger cosmic war taking place meanwhile. Not between the Meekrob and Tenn, not between the Tallest and every dumb luck threat they are thrown against, but between the Irken Armada and all life in the entire universe, sentient or not.

Their intentions will not be made any more clear, between outright eradication or eventual enslavement of every lifeform they set their sights on. While they have alliances and neutral treaties, those agreements seem few and far between, as well as born from temporary conveniences. The cards have already been dealt, and all available evidence has indicated that every planet they are aware of is doomed from the moment The Massive was operational.

Though littered with inefficiencies and incompetency that could suggest an empire in internal decline, the development of the control brains and other centralized command crutches of the species suggests the Irkens can still keep a well oiled machine running, no matter how many mishaps happen along the way. At least, that machine and their plundered resources will definitely outlast the survival of their enemies, for sure.

To speak of their enemies, there has not been a single competitive race within the show that demonstrates any credible threat to Operation Impending Doom II- only those that can resist the conquest a little bit longer than others, or those who survive by appeasing Irk (or evading its detection). The fall of Vort, which stood as the homeworld of the only aliens with the technological ability to match the armada’s firepower is…. Really bad news. That’s to say the least of comparatively primitive, TINY planets like Earth or Blorch, standing zero chance in the way of what’s eventually coming. This is a war that has continued despite the death of two.. FOUR Almighty Tallests if you follow the movie’s events… and Irkens wholly are still thriving for it across the Galaxy.

So, given all of these facts, and the perception that the Irkens (like any invasive species or colonial force) don’t seem to be a society that will make responsible and/or sustainable use of their ill-gotten territory… it seems like this is how life across the universe ends in Invader Zim one day: Not with a bang, not with the whimper of heat death, but through screams muffled under the bloody boots of a dominant predator- a predator that is, itself, doomed to cannibalize its own once it hits the carrying capacity of all existence.

Bleak, concrete, and horrific as that may sound, there’s still a “however” here to consider!

Yep, that’s me about to point one of my big fat fingers to the sky and protest- Irk just might be,

Not so Undefeatable, after all!

And not only have I figured out exactly what sort of countermeasure you need to destroy these invaders, I have reason to suspect it’s a plan already long ago set into motion.

Let’s break it down,

An Irksome Achilles’ Heel

True, individually, the bug bastards are irritatingly tough to kill through conventional means. True, collectively, they are nigh impossible to outmatch. And more than most anything else, they owe this tenacity to two things: numbers, and R&D. Possessing some of most state of the art pinnacles in transportation, communications, and military equipment, the Armada found a knack for being able to steamroll most lesser planets before it.

The genius of the individual PAK unit grants each and any one Irken a theoretical path to partial immortality itself, by route of consciousness archiving. I strongly believe that kind of cybernetic progress was also one of the stepping stones that led to the creation of the Control Brains. Nonetheless, this very same strength of the Irkens’ has also proven to be the source of their greatest vulnerability.

Paks, Paks… Oh Paks. The entire race’s civilization revolves around such technology the way we do around our own brains, our own hearts, and our communicative network. For all intents and purposes, and as I’ve gone on about ad nauseum in my other spills about the show, a PAK is all and at once

• Synonymous with the holder of their soul, consciousness, being, whatever you want to call their personhood.

• Able to have their data repurposed by future generations, in the result of an Irken’s permanent death.

• A universal necessity shared by the entire population.

• Susceptible to alterations, sometimes by intelligent enough individuals (as demonstrated by the Zimvoid comic arc), but usually by a Control Brain, directly.

In addition to that last quality, there’s another way the code in a PAK can be changed, for better or worse- Via evolution. Though I am talking about digitized neurology, the actual data in a PAK is a lot more comparable to biological DNA or a “self-learning” AI than it is a rigid computer program. By this, I mean that its code is subject to certain changes over time, perhaps both directed and completely random, particularly during the recycling of its information back into the Smeeteries.

And this is actually good design on the control brains’ part, the same way not reproducing Irkens as genetically identical clones was. Genetic and digital diversity are desirable goals to keep in mind if you want a healthy and versatile stock of workers, engineers, soldiers, and everything in between. We’re talking about highly sentient, highly intelligent, and emotional organisms here. A static drone mindset is going to offer them inadequate ability to adapt to their lengthy life experiences or be unique persons. How else would social mobility have purpose in their world? How else could the cream of the crop rise so far above their peers? That positive was deemed worthy of an obvious risk, however: computational errors.

When the Bugs Get Bugs

 IZ does not clearly lay out what it means for an Irken to be defective, but it gives us a general idea. Defectiveness is not something diagnosed from a code scan for this missing value or that incorrect variable. It’s not judged by one specific character trait or quality that’s abnormal for an Irken to display. “Defective” is a judgement stamp, wielded by the Control Brains when they gauge the total sum value of a life’s contribution to the species. And it’s not one given to Irkens which are merely incompetent, no. Anyone proven to be unfit for their standing is given generous opportunity for redemption or simply reassigned a more suitable occupation. If it were based on likability, we’d have seen Skoodge sent to Judgementia years ago.

Rather, it’s given to those who are viewed as so twisted that they are proven to be an existential danger to their brethren. Irkens that are so destructive to the essence of the collective that their memory must be purged from the record and their identity erased.

I adore the enthusiasm behind fans who want to view this as an analogy for disability or neurodivergence against a conformist society, but the metaphor I’m seeing is one of extreme antisocial behavior. A defective Irken screams less “adhd/autism” to me than they do serial murderers (of their own) or outright traitors. Pardon the use of a gross phrase, but it’d seem we were talking about an Irken equivalent of what the outdated gens would have dubbed the “criminally insane”. No one on screen has ever shown Skoodge or Tak the sort of concern that would get them sent to the Spike of Judgement, but when Zim was in that hot seat? NO one was doubting what his verdict would be.

^ courtesy of “The Trial’s” transcript

I think about the 40 shmillion mistakes a lot.

It’s such a vague quantity. But it sure sounds like a hell of a big one. And what mistakes… what did the lil squirt even have to compare them to? There’s no standard one person an Irken can be. Every presentation of the flaws in that code to the control brains hasn’t ended up a flaw to him.

I only started writing this because I really couldn’t stop thinking about the 40 shmillion. There’s no chronological room for bad self-modding to add up to that so quickly.  DNA replication, nature’s own sloppy and random process of creating new life, can be excused around 120,000 hiccups when duplicating with a 6 billion pair-long protein. But this kind of shuffling is under a futuristic AI’s precise eye. Yes, defects happen, but as bad as him? From birth??? How could you possibly get that many detrimental deviations from the mechanical fucking god-queen(s) of their entire homeworld?

And then it hit me.

You don’t. Not from Irk.

The hot take I’ve been charging for this entire time is thus.

Zim is not defective by any random accident. In fact, I smell the tampering of foreign sabotage.

Not only is this guy the thing his kind fears more than any else, they have every right to be shaking in their stance.

That puzzle i posed at the beginning of this journey, have you seen what I’ve seen yet?

Because the answer I was looking for as to what similarity connects an anthill, a PC, and a city from Greek legend was a most effective tactic for taking them down.

Do you know the best way to deal with a bad ant infestation? Cuz you can lay down all the raid and crushing action you want, but you won’t really be getting anywhere unless you target the pests directly at their queen. To that end, liquid ant baits are marvelous inventions- a sweet substance hiding a small amount of slow acting poison. Poison to be peacefully delivered by the stomach of an ant to the rest of her colony, poisoning her kin, who sicken more members, on and on until the queen is destroyed and the entire nest perishes. An insidious toxin to do all the work while its user never lifts a finger, pretty ingenious.

And when it comes to computers, we also have ways to attack entire networks at source, from quietly and far away. “Trojan” was a category of malware responsible for 64.31% of all cyber attacks on Windows systems in 2022, and they still make up a majority of active malware hits today. The concept is deviously simple. The malicious code is hidden within an innocent looking program, maybe even within a legitimate software that does what it’s supposed to. Once the stowaway is invited into the system, it can get down to it some sneaky, nasty, destructive work on your device. As for what those acts could look like, well, malware exists to do all kinds of things. Mostly something involving trying to get money/information from you or hijacking your computer for whatever its creator wants to use it for. And some of them will just up and wreck your shit, disable your antivirus software to open you up to more infections, disable important operations, wipe your data. Use your imagination.

And as for Troy.. well, where do you think Trojan programs got their name? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So, Irkens have their Armada, bionic drones, and homeworld- in other words, the thriving swarm of army ants, the billions to trillions of computers they so rely on, and their nigh untouchable fortress, always at war.

And some damn crafty bastard(s) in the stars said

“Here is their sugar-bait,”

“Here is their cyber attack,”

“Here is their wooden horse.”

And one particular race is going to be getting the last laugh before long.

Nerds That Are GOATed With the Sauce

That’s right, I thought about this all the way through to finding our prime suspect. And let me tell you, NO ONE in the Galaxy reeked of fish like the Vortians did. Get over here and lemme show you my whiteboard with all the red circles and polaroids on it.

- The Means

In a way of tragic irony, Vort has contributed more than any else to the same Irken conquest that turned on them in the end. A natural talent for cutting edge engineering and technical development actually does not seem to be what Irk already came into the ring with. For how mighty and superior they view themselves, the greatest achievements of their military can actually be owed to Vortian outsourcing. When we would have gotten a look at Tallest Miyuki’s very own “finest minds” during her reign, notice something interesting about these guys below,

Zim there is the ONLY Irken to be found! Yes, transferred there because of the punchline explanation of ‘he breaks everything he touches so maybe he’ll have an affinity for weapons research’ but damn right he actually did! And still does; I don’t want it to go unsaid that Zim has shown MUCH more technological skill and innovation than near any other Irken we’ve seen.

Another fun thing to note about this is that Lard Nar was also part of this lineup, and in the transcript he was in the process of working on the blueprints for The Massive. (which leaves you with the cursed knowledge that Zim, Prisoner 777, and Lard were all familiar coworkers long before the events of the show) And that brings me back to what I’m saying about the real reason the Vort natives were enslaved and imprisoned instead of outright sweeped after conquering. The Armada needs their skills, because Vortian advancement is something their own scientists couldn’t come close to. Left to their own devices, Vort could have easily outmatched them at an earlier point in history. It’s a people that figured out infinite power sources and potentially wormhole technology, while PAKs were something a disfigured human tween with a lot of time on his hands was able to crack. If anyone could outpace and outsmart the defensive measures of the Control Brains, it’s going to be them. And what better, cleaner way to sabotage the enemy than from within. 

The very same strings of inserted code that cursed Zim with his delusions, paranoia, lust for destruction, and horrible tactics may also have blessed him with a determination and intellect higher than almost any creature alive. The saboteur gave Irk the most powerful racecar in history, and then fitted it with bicycle brakes. No matter how hard Zim tries to conform to what will give him admiration, no matter how competent he is at keeping himself alive, it’s as if he is instinctually compelled toward whatever actions will cause the MOST damage to his allies in the process. Dib may think he’s the bulwark against the invasion when, ironically, he’s fighting against the one being that’s predetermined to be the arrow that strikes Irken leadership right in their dumb, green heels. (There is also an instance in the comics where Dib figures out that Zim is the ace in the hole for total Irken eradication but that’s another fun story.)

Oh, oh HO HO, and that’s only what he’s capable of doing before the empire’s actual immune system against defects like him wakes up and notices!

Three planetary blackouts, two dead generals, and a whole swath of dead invaders was just the fucking warm up, babey! All that is merely the kind of loud disruption that you need in order to fulfil the real thing this Trojan horse exists for in the first place.

What a celebration of hubris the Spike of Judgement was. Yeah, let’s take our method of filtering the corrupted data from the hive mind, and completely centralize it on a single planet! As well, let’s have the very purging agents also be the same ones to perform the evaluations themselves, I’m sure that it would be unthinkable for any outsider to design a worm that could make it through the brains’ firewalls. Goddamn spectacular. Like inserting an infected USB into your laptop, the Tallest never realized what kind of beast they woke up by plugging that PAK into the Spike’s mainframes. Those brains were meant to handle an expected spectrum of deviation when it came to defective Irkens, never a sleeper virus of this complexity.

From here it probably won’t even matter if Zim survives much longer on Earth, his virus has already spread to the very thing relied upon to keep things like him out of the data pool in the first place. With the Judgementia brains corrupted and no higher authority to overrule them, the firewall is effectively broken, and you know what that means? Bigger cracks for future defectives to start trickling through, both spontaneous and artificial. The ideal scenario is one where a degenerating and glitched population accelerates the incompetency of the empire to the point where it just implodes on itself; nevertheless, even a disease that only slows down Operation Doom could be a game changer, by giving the rest of the little guys more time to band together a coalition strong enough to strike back when the time is right.

- The Motive

The history of these two races’ alliance is something I lament us not having more lore to pull from- how far back it goes, what the character of the Vort was like during that time, what the Irkens had offered in return- a few among dozens of questions it rears.  The implication behind how it ended lies in Zim’s creation that slayed Tallest Miyuki. Interestingly, the Empire never received the memo of what exactly went down, or, perhaps, stubbornly denied the account of the other scientists who were there that day. Neither Red/Purple nor the Judgmentia Brains had any idea that Zim’s actions led to the death of a Tallest. So, makes sense that the Vortians became the unintentional scapegoat (no pun intended) for the incident, and the rest is history.

Note: It’s also in the realm of possibility that Vort was actually the one to withdraw from the alliance instead, given that the same blob that devoured Miyuki (purely the fault of their Irken transfer) also went on to cause untold amounts of devastation. Red’s reaction to the real story stuck out to me as more telling, although.

But why am I even talking about this? Zim was decades old before war was declared on them, and either people’s regard to each other seemed strangely… respectful, if anything.

But, was Vort really a monolithic bunch? Irk was already an empire by this point, and diplomacy with those they needed something from did not mean they weren’t otherwise an aggressive force in the universe. For all we know, the alliance itself might have been coerced, or result of depraved leadership among the Vortians.  Any citizen with a conscience who could see the writing on the walls would be disgusted by giving so much aid and brown nosing to such a menace, no? I know who would have seen that writing before anyone else. Brainiacs who are smart enough to build something like The Massive and all its bells and whistles would know better than anyone just what it was all capable of in the wrong hands. The collateral damage against your own people might be a sacrifice worth making in the face of the alternative.

- The Oppurtunity

So.. that’s all well and good, yeah? A why, and a what, yet this is actually the tricky part of saving the galaxy,

Sneaking your StupidifyIrk.exe file onto the assholes’ homeworld without alerting either them or your own treacherous, weak, collaborator superiors to your actions. Infecting and releasing a random Irken alive would be far too dangerous, far too noticeable to the point where they could just be destroyed outright before given a chance to wreak real havoc.

But what about releasing a dead Irken? 🤔

PAKs are only screened for criminal flaws when errors begin to affect their body’s behaviors in destructive ways. A fully competent scientist, or soldier, or navigator performing a lifetime of loyal service to the empire and then meeting an unfortunate end? Their minds’ shadows can be accepted back into the data pool no questions asked. That’s only business as usual.

That almost makes new smeets something of a reincarnation of their ancestors. Personally, I see it kind of like replaying a video game and re-rolling your stats, even if you’re reusing your character’s name and general play style.

Either way, we come full circle to my theory about Zim’s actual origin. Maybe not “our” Zim, but the previous iteration of data that was shuffled to create his person. Whoever they were, I’m convinced that they were also an exceptional individual. They were probably pretty arrogant, but it was a more earned confidence, and they were a prodigy genius, the likes of which that was drawn to work alongside Vortian allies, as another researcher. Then, an untimely demise befell them. I couldn’t say they fell victim to some unfortunate accident, considering the cockroach durability of their body. No, I find it a lot easier to imagine they met their end in one of the more embarrassing ways for an Irken to die- A PAK stolen, disabled or forcefully detached by an assailant they might have allowed a little closer than they should have. To the homeworld, it’s a small matter. One more PAK recovered by the natives of the friendly planet, brought back home to be repurposed by the smeeteries, right?

Well, that’s what one smartass might have been hoping for.

And they really were a clever cookie, because that scheming seed is fruiting beautifully.

[rustyboltzz]

ok no deep burning questions but here's some silly ones

is iris a dog or a cat person? and on a similar but not exactly the same note if she was turned into a critter of some kind thru some anomaly would she be a dog or a cat (or something else :eyes:)

if she played minecraft what kinda style would she have (redstoner builder speedrunner fighter etc)

Oh my god... Iris asks.. how I've missed you!!

We're gonna do this a little differently this time. Within the ask, I'll include some little art to go along with my answers, I hope you enjoy! :]

(Perhaps you aren't into reading. If not; you're able to simply scroll through the art within this post by selecting one and swiping back and forth. That or you can scroll down like a normie.)

First question; 'Is Iris a dog or cat person?' Being honest? Neither! If she was to pick between the two, probably dogs, she has specific trauma tied to cats due to Omega-7, which I could explain in a separate ask if you'd like, but in terms of dogs? I think she feels in-between about them. I think she generally thinks they are 'cute' and is probably bonded to the idea of them being protectors (I like the idea that she bonded with some sniffer dogs while on Omega-7), but the fact that they are very high maintenance and demand a lot of her attention and physical affection is overwhelming for her. In short, they're nice to be around temporarily, but not her ideal long-term pet.

As for a pet, though, I think she'd enjoy some sort of lizard or reptile. I asked GlassAutomaton something similar to this in the past, and I agree with what he said there, so I'll just say it here as well; I can imagine her enjoying upkeeping their enclosures and the heat of their sun lamps. I also just think she has this particular affection for them because she grew up in a place where there was a significant amount of them just around regularly. They remind her of home.

I like to think she has this particular affection for snakes, salamanders and geckos in particular, and they inflict a rare case of cuteness-aggression from her when she sees them, but I feel she'd have a hard time ever asking for one as a pet, not because she thinks her overseers wouldn't allow it (I actually think they'd like her to have something other then Alpha-9 to devote herself too) but because she'd get embarrassed about being caught being so affectionate with another little being, even if they're an animal. The gods forbid Iris Thompson from baby-talking an animal in another's presence, in her eyes at least. Gotta keep up that 'Cool-Girl' persona, I guess. (The one that only exists in her head. Aha.)

Next question! 'If she was to be transformed into a little critter of some kind, which would it be?' Picking between the dog and cat, it's a bit hard to choose, I think she shares a lot of attributes with both of those animals specifically. With cats, she's similar in the aspects that she's naturally drawn to warm places, always a little bit touch and go with affection and her mood, and secretly a bit of a cuddle-bug, even if she'd never admit it. And with dogs, I'd say she's very praise-driven, even if subtley, a bit of a suck up when it comes to those she cares about, and quite demanding when she wants to be. I guess this answer ends with her being an Eye-Pet, if that reference isn't too niche. Which, from my understanding, and reflecting back on my five-year-old self's memories, is the mixture between the two animals. But who knows, maybe there's another glorious mixture of the two I'm failing to bring up.

As for any general animal I think she'd transform into, I guess I'd say it would be fun to see a Snake-Iris, which I know is something that's already been conceived somewhere. There's not a lot behind this past how I've connected her with reptiles, and the fact that I think she deserves to unhinge her jaw and swallow a mouse whole, just a little.

Final question! 'If she was to play Minecraft, what playstyle would she attach herself to?' Honestly, it's a little bit hard to choose on this one because I never really imagined her being a fan of sandbox types of games to begin with, but! I'd like to imagine she'd probably attach herself to the 'miner' type playstyle. She seems the type to get into the game for a couple of weeks and devote herself hard to one goal at a time, like upkeeping a fort and a farm and grinding for all the best materials (Atleast the ones she deems 'ethical', whatever that means. I think she'd learn about the villager trading system and be mortified.) only to get incredibly embarrassed that she wasted her time on such a 'nothing' task and never touch the game again.

Do I think she's good at grinding? Somewhat. On the most basic levels. I think she'd start to feel her brain twist inside her skull if she even tried to conceptualise a Redstone farm, let alone a mob farm, I mean, c'mon! She needs to give her opposition a fighting chance! Trapping them in a chamber and swiping at their legs is just too far for her! She may be a fighter, but she has morals..

Speaking of fighting, I think one of the things she genuinely does get good at in the game is the combat system, even if she's just practicing it on the hostile mobs. If there is one thing Iris Thompson cares about, it's her safety, and it's also most certainly being prepared.

Finally, I think far in the future, or perhaps not, her and Jacqueline (SCP-1985) would play together. Iris would probably play hardball at first when Jacqueline suggests they start a little world together but eventually cave at the prospect of building something with someone else. It's a flattering idea to her, even if she'd never admit that. I think Jacqueline has a much more laid-back playstyle. She enjoys the nature and life the game holds in its scenery. She enjoys being able to build something beautiful from scratch. I think she's an immaculate builder and devotes far too much time to perfecting her landscapes within their worlds. Makes her and Iris a neat little cottage away from it all, and while she finds it a bit ugly, doesn't abject when Iris builds fortress walls around them to keep them safe, maybe just spiffs up her watch towers a little bit.