#human anatomy be damned in that universe

[lovemesomefanfic846]

If these two could make babies that means I could sleep with doffy and live RIGHT

Human anatomy and physics be damned in the one piece universe 😂

[clothless-sock]

PJO wing AU Masterpost!!

The idea of the AU is that each demigod sprouts wings as they come into their powers and identity as a half-blood. This art is just for demigods with avian wings, but it works the same for bat wings too. Insect wings are a whole different beast that I will tackle later. The idea is that each individual gets human-sized wings of a species based on their godly parentage, personality, and other mysterious factors!

Links to my other posts about the AU- I'll try to keep it updated! ~ Percy Jackson ~ Will Solace ~ Nico DiAngelo ~

I really wanted to try and emphasize the inhumanity of the half-bloods in this AU by actually changing their fundamental physiology, because I really think it gets glossed over a lot that the demigods are literally not fully human. I imagine that the process of growing the wings is incredibly uncomfortable and at points painful, but is made a lot easier by access to Apollo cabin healers with nectar and ambrosia. The anatomy of it all is enabled entirely by magic, so there would be structures to allow wing movement, but without the magical element flight would be impossible. Here is an idea of the skeletal structure we are working with here:

(I am by no means an expert in human or avian skeletal anatomy- feel free to correct any egregious errors here lol) I imagine that there would be plenty of additional muscles that develop along with the wings, but I do not want to really figure that out. I think that with the aid of magic these muscles would be inconspicuous enough to not significantly affect a demigods general stature — remember that we are not going for exact anatomical plausibility here — and so I will not bother to figure that out unless I have to.

I have so many more thoughts on this and I plan to post a lot more about this AU, so be on the lookout for that if you are interested! Feel free to ask questions or voice constructive criticism, all is very appreciated! 💜

[txmxkis]

i'm only really me when i'm here with you

pairing. boothill x gn!reader

genre. hurt/comfort

wc. 1.5k+

summary. you're determined to help boothill heal from his trauma by... doing his hair?

warnings. i took liberties with this, who knows what specific parts he actually has left or whether he can blush or not (in my heart he can lol), mention of boothill picking u up but i mean. he’s literally so strong he could handle anything, i made him soooo sad and it’s possibly wildly out of character, selfship coded as usual rip

a/n. continuing the tradition of using lyrics from songs on selfship playlists for fic titles lol. based on my tags on this post

they say that trauma is stored in the body, and while boothill didn't necessarily have a complete body anymore, this was still something that you thought about frequently when it came to his physical form.

regardless of just how much of his original self remained, there was still enough of him left that you were sure it had to be true in some capacity. after all, he retained his head and his heart—at least you were fairly certain—two of the most vital components of human anatomy.

it was so hard to read him. the real him. he tried so hard to always act confident and cool. actually, he didn't even really have to try or act. it seemed as if it came to him naturally and endlessly. there was a perpetual air of optimism surrounding him that was difficult to dim even on his most wearisome days.

even after experiencing whatever horrors he had to face from mission to mission, when he came home, the door to whatever room you were currently in would fling open—sometimes scaring you half to death—and he would greet you so happily that it felt as if there were no terrible things in the universe whatsoever.

you cherished his mannerisms, especially because you could be a pessimistic sort of person. rather frequently, in fact. you loved having him near you, able to draw laughter from you, however unwillingly it might be on your part at times. he was oddly skilled at making you feel assured and comfortable, in a way that nothing and no one had ever done before. you couldn’t seem to remember how you ever lived without his encouragement, and you didn’t think you could ever feel truly whole without it again.

there really was no accounting for his relentlessly positive attitude. given what he'd seen and endured, you thought it was damn near impossible to be as carefree as he seemed to be. at any rate, he did manage it. however, there were times, moments he rarely ever allowed you to witness, in which his façade would falter slightly and betray just how heavily the past weighed on him.

occasionally, you would catch him staring at his reflection, a downcast expression painting his beautiful features. every time you spoke of your family, you could detect glimpses of sadness in his eyes, albeit hidden behind a smile. once you even caught him crying as silently as he could—you assumed so as not to alert you—his shoulders sagging under an unforeseen weight, a look on his face that you could only describe as heartbroken. your own heart broke with his in that moment.

you always tried to be particularly attentive following those moments, but it was so difficult to get him to open up to you. he just wanted you to be happy. to not bother worrying about him. you had your own problems, after all, and there was no need for him to add to your burden. no need for him to ask for your pity.

he knew you cared for him deeply enough that it would cause you pain, and even if it was only a fragment of the grief that he lived with every day, he was sure that he would feel terribly and incessantly guilty about it. if he could remove every single aspect of your life that caused you suffering, he would do it in a heartbeat, and he could say that because it was one of the few original parts he had left. how could he add to that suffering by forcing you to imagine all the horrors from his own life?

it took so much time and effort on your part to convince him to open the door to himself, if even just a tiny crack. he was still extremely careful with his words and the details that he disclosed to you—he didn't want to overwhelm you, and he certainly didn't want to hurt you. in reality, these conversations, painful as they were for you to hear, actually helped you to feel as though you could comfort him more effectively.

yes, it hurt immensely to know even a small fraction of how much anguish he had experienced. yes, you despised the people who had done this to him and wanted to fight them yourself, in fact. yes, your chest felt tight with ache and sadness on his behalf. still, you could help him more by knowing than by not knowing.

eventually, you were able to make it this far, brushing through his hair as gently as your hands could manage. he had confessed to you in one of his more vulnerable moments that the white shock of hair on his head often served as a stark reminder of worse times, of the trauma and stress inflicted on his body. the admission gave you an idea, one that made boothill feel more than just a little bit exposed. he wasn’t accustomed to being looked after like this, with so much affection and love.

you began to make a routine out of it. every day you would do something with his hair—whether it was braiding it and tying it up intricately to make him feel pretty or simply combing through the strands and allowing them to cascade around his shoulders and down his back.

sometimes you would sit him in front of a mirror while you worked so that he could see exactly what you were doing in the moment. he didn’t quite understand how it all came together, but he found it fascinating to see how you twisted and weaved. at times, you were so focused on the hair in your hands that your brows would furrow, tongue poking out slightly between your lips. in the reflection, you genuinely looked like you were enjoying yourself.

even more noticeable to him was the expression you wore when you looked at him through the mirror. your gaze was so full of tenderness that his chest ached. he could swear that his heart actually skipped a beat. whenever that happened, you could see a flaring blush creep up his cheeks and into his ears, and you couldn’t help but laugh just a little bit at how endearing it was.

other times, you would settle on the couch, with him seated on the floor between your legs, adorning his hair with the cutest accessories, the two of you laughing and joking the whole time. you would delicately twist the locks back, securing them with pretty, multicolored clips that shone in the light.

when you were done, you would lead him slowly to a mirror, hands over his eyes, nearly stumbling over his legs as you walked behind him. you would pull your hands quickly from his face, revealing your handiwork, beaming with pride and grinning at how adorable he looked. he loved every minute of it—and every bit of you, he would think to himself as he turned to pick you up and spin you around, laughing in that deep voice of his. then he’d set you down gently, thanking you for your hard work with kisses sprinkled across your face.

days that were particularly trying for him would simply be spent in comfortable silence. when he didn’t feel like talking from the pain of it all, he would wordlessly lay his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his long locks. feeling your touch—the slight pull on his scalp, the tickle of shifting hair—it all made him feel so relaxed that he could melt right into your skin until you absorbed him fully into you. often, the combination of this and the gentle, steady beat of your heart would lull him to sleep, and seeing his expression ease and soften in these moments was all the reward you ever needed.

in the beginning, it was unclear whether this dedicated time spent caring for his hair was helping or not. over time, however, you noticed a glimmer in his eyes—something that told you he would be alright, despite everything.

pain still remained; it always would, but instead of constantly gazing at his reflection with grief, every once in a while you would catch a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. it was as if he was remembering how you hummed while placing those clips, or how he had teasingly whipped you with his hair on a more playful occasion, or any number of positive memories that you had put so much effort into lovingly crafting with him.

you were determined to do your best, slowly but surely, to lighten his burden—or at least help carry it. there was no reason for him to feel alone when he had you by his side. and if creating these happy memories was what you had to do in order to help him, well, you would gladly continue forever.

reblogs & interactions are appreciated! thank you for reading! <3 — txmxkis

[ms-scarletwings]

The Speculative Analysis About Irkens No One Asked For: Part II

Hiya! Back at it again with not shutting up about the lil green dudes. In case you found this first, here’s the Part One of this spiel, touching on some of the environmental theories about Irk and its cyberpunk-leaning cultural direction. While this post is dedicated to a more biological look of what’s going on with the Irkens, there was some leading context and other tidbits back in that one you may also enjoy, too.

So, carrying through what we previously set up, I want to… admit off the bat that, I found it a little difficult at first, you know?-To pick an angle I wanted to sink my teeth into. With how old the show’s become and how creative & enthusiastic a fanbase it attracted, it’s getting hard to really note (or theorize) something about Irken anatomy that hasn’t been said before somewhere. And don’t get me wrong, that’s awesome and I love almost every word of it I��ve read. A lot of it from various sources is almost certainly going to bleed together into the first half of this. So, keep it in mind, yet I will try to chew a little deeper into the questions we can’t actually answer with just a rewatch of the show, all good? Because there’s a few more base things we know from the canon I’m going to include to start listing: - Irkens lack any visible form of nose or ears, but are equipped with a pair of sensory antennae. Presumably, these organs fulfill the same roles, as they do in real-world insects. - Irken organs are obviously very alien, not well explained, artificially enhanced, and hard to compare to that of a human’s- outside of their general body shape, the presence of a primary brain separate from the PAK, and the fact that they do possess something of an internal skeleton. - A petite race on average (relative to humans), Irkens universally follow an unquestioned social hierarchy based on individual height. - Irkens are endowed with a remarkable ability to regenerate and heal superficial injuries, even up to repairing the damage of being nearly skinned alive (chest-down) or severely burning their corneas within a matter of hours. - Their preferred diet is one that is rich in (if not primarily made of) refined carbohydrates, and while they seem to tolerate fatty sources, such as processed dairy, their anatomy is poorly suited for dealing with high-protein foods like beans and meat. - In fact, all forms of contact with exposed animal meat itself will cause it to dissolve and meld into their own flesh, via an incredibly painful process. - On contact with water from Earth, their skin will receive harsh chemical burns (This has been explained by Vasquez to be a consequence of impurities and man-made pollutants, which Irkens seem sensitive to). - While I’m already on a roll about their skin, it also contains/produces a substance capable of killing lice.

Now, I think we’ve all heard a lot about sqeedily spooches, but does anyone else want to keep marinating a second longer on the topic of s k i n ? Because I have some damn thoughts to release about Zim’s outer casing.

Let’s Get Chemical

First hot take, and the hill I am willing to be slain on: That ain’t actually skin! At least, it is nothing chemically alike to Earth-native vertebrate skin. I’ve given all of the above and the general running theme about Irkens resembling arthropods a lot of thought, and I’ve come to about the only conclusion I could that makes their dermis equivalent… make sense.

See, one of the biggest traits that sets apart invertebrates from other animals in real life is the “innie or outie” skeleton question, but you gotta understand that the “skeletons” that bugs and crabs have would still be considered something completely different from our endoskeletons even if they were on the inside. The hard tissues that make up OUR skeletal systems are mostly made up of a *collagen (remember that word!) frame that is reinforced by calcium, phosphorus, and other minerals. The hard parts of an ant’s skeleton, on the other foot, are mainly composited of chitin.

Chitin, now, is a very neat substance. It’s a polysaccharide, meaning that it’s made up of a bunch of sugar molecules chained together. This makes it distinct from proteins, which are made of amino acid chains instead of carbs. Chitin is also one of the single most important structural polymers in the universe to a ton of existing life. It makes up the literal backbone of arthropods and the cell walls of all fungi. We’ve even found it in fish scales and some amphibians. So, must also be important to humans, right? NAH. Not a chance. Higher animals actually long ditched the ability to synthesize the stuff, and are not any the worse for it, since there’s more than one way to stick a bunch of creature pieces together. For two examples, keratin and *collagen are proteins we naturally synthesize that functionally do the same thing. Keratin is the hard substance that makes up hair & fingernails, and collagen is practically the wonderglue of flesh: It’s a fundamental binder that holds together your bones, your skin, your precious muscle meats, the ligaments, the tendies, the nerves…

pretty much the whole person blueprint if you get the picture.

And thus concludes your (VERY overly simplified) highshcool bio class recap, but what the hell did that have to do with the cartoon spacemen again? I’m gonna round back to them through a funny secret about exoskeletons, actually: They have a softer part, too! Chitin’s hella diverse in its forms and utility. What’s in an exoskeleton is actually a version of it modified with other materials (like what’s done to collagen in bone) to make it so rigid and shell-like. A purer chitin, on the other hand, is more leathery and flexible, less like the shell of a beetle and more like the squishy wall around a caterpillar or maggot. Even the hard bodied insects still have an endocuticle layer like this hiding just under the “shell”, still considered part of the whole exoskeleton, but suddenly looking and acting more like we’d call a skin.

Eh, see where I’m going with this? My conviction is this- Irkens may have used to be even more arthropodal in an earlier stage of their evolution, including BOTH an internal skeleton, and some form of protective exoskeleton in their body plan. And hey, maybe the two were extensions of the same system once, too. You recognize something like that in modern tortoises when you remember that their “shells” are actually just the bone structure of their own ribcage. Then, let’s say that Irkens later saw the loss of their heavier exocuticle, leaving behind the endoskeleton and the flexible inner (now just an outer) cuticle of what used to be an entire body shell. This could have been a gradual change, via natural selection, or it could have been another artificial mutation brought on by technology- wherein the elder brains decided the feature was less efficient and simply phased it out of the cloning process- the same as the loss of their species’ sexual organs.

But, you’re thinking, why on Irk would the loss of an entire badass armor layer be beneficial to their fitness? Few reasons- For one, they are cumbersome and limiting. The downgrade on freedom of movement and flexibility they would be for a bipedal humanoid is self-explanatory enough. When it came to structural integrity, the inner skeleton would have already done a well job with little modification. For all the protection they provide, they don’t leave much room for expansion, and need to be shed in order for the animal to grow any further or to recover from certain injuries. The process of molting itself would be an excruciating process for any intelligent species to have to endure; one that also temporarily leaves the critter in a very vulnerable and stressed state for every molt. To advance from more primitive origins into a dominant race, manual dexterity and mobility would have to take a front seat over a small amount of modest defenses, and mind you, Irk long ago woulda managed to compensate for that loss in the form of advanced weaponry (obviously).

I’m also of the mind that the shift away from an exoskeleton could have even been the key to allowing the Irkens to even grow to the size they are now. Recall back to Part One for a second, where I shared the likely case for Irk having a massive bulk behind its gravity field. Gravity is a hard thing on any skeletal structure, representing a constant strain to be fought against when moving, growing, and bearing weight .There’s a lot of factors behind why we don’t have horse sized spiders or elephant sized lobsters IRL, and weight is actually one of them. Notice how terrestrial isopods only get about to the size of a bean, but the aquatic ones can top out at over a foot long? And that’s only having Earth’s level of gravity to struggle against, let alone however harsh the conditions would be on a larger planet. So, there’s my framework for explaining what I think the aliens’ cuticle is not; however, what does that mean for what it is, besides “feels and looks like a grub’s”?

Well, look again at some of the extraordinary things it can do.

Cooties Immunity

“Germs” was a memorable episode that posed a very legitimate question to the viewer. Why IS IT that foreign pathogens aren’t a bigger concern for the invaders? They’re literally sent off to other worlds to blend in: Socializing with the native inhabitants, eating their foods, and living in an alien habitat. In the case of an undiscovered rock like Earth, our infectious diseases would have no reference available to the Armada whatsoever. Sure, species incompatibility would provide some protection, but the risk of something carrying over and adapting is always still there. Zoonoptic jumps happen all the time with bacteria and viruses, and Zim’s body temperature IS in the normal human range. And what about fungal pathogens, or parasites-

Oh, wait, the lice episode gave it away right there.

I love this sequence so much, because it’s coincidentally like, an exact “art imitates life” parallel to something a real species of primate does. Black lemurs live in the same area of Madagascar as these vibrant, red millipedes.

The millipedes are special because when threatened, they secrete a poisonous substance from their skin. The lemurs are special because they like to grab the bugs and nibble them for no other reason than to make them release those toxins. Those chemicals are then rubbed into their fur, because somehow the lemurs figured out it makes a really handy mosquito repellant. The lemurs also like to get completely zonked out on the chemicals too but eyy- Point was it stands to reason that Irkens may also secrete small amounts of their own potent toxin from the cuticle, perhaps for more hygienic than defensive purposes. This secretion would be responsible for protecting them from parasites and topical infections. Could it also make people blazed out of their minds? …Maybe? I think I’d like to promote the “Just Say No” policy on the matter of licking aliens, though. Ffs at least ask them out to dinner first.

When it comes to other kinds of sick, looks like it might be the trusty old PAK to the rescue here again. I imagine that, being an intergalactic, partially mechanical civilization, the Irken race has come down this road enough to put in a workaround. A standard PAK contains the entirety of the population’s collective knowledge/history- which would include a catalog of all known infectious agents they have encountered across the universe. Some kind of nanobot-bolstered immune system that could detect and respond appropriately to new threats isn’t out of the question, nor should a feature that can automatically administer the appropriate medicine directly into the wearer’s bloodstream. For all this awesomeness, nonetheless, there remains a downside or two that they haven’t quite conquered..

The Meaty, Sweety, Mending of DOOM

Anyone ever actually think about how as far as resilience is concerned, Zim is practically an X-man compared to any Earthling? He has regenerative capabilities that surpass anything else on earth, save idk, bamboo shoots, if even. Injuries that would leave a human permanently disabled only seem to incapacitate an Irken for a few hours to a day at most. They’re all the more tough to put out of commission when considering that a PAK doubles as a form of backup life support, ready to “soft reboot” the host with a quick jolt if it detects a sudden drop in vital signs. It is tempting to credit the same device as the source of this healing boost as well, teasing the nanobot suggestion again; however, I see a chance instead to bring this back a step.

Although not as quick-acting as Zim, or Skoodge’s healing, there are some remarkable examples of regeneration in real arthropods, from repairing tissues/organs to replacing entire lost limbs. What the aliens are packing doesn’t seem all that different, only refined (through years of bioengineering) to work at a truly frightening efficiency. It shows through in their diet as well. Almost always, if we see a member of this species eating on screen, and believe me there was no shortage of examples, what are we watching them shovel their face with?

Space doughnuts, space popcorn, space Fun-Dip, sodas, and curly fries. Sure, there’s plenty of calories here, no doubt with the amount of carbs and grease that could even turn the stomach of a college freshman, but is this… nutrition?

Yes. Just not for us.

Like their civilization, we have also turned the mass production of sweet-packed, fat loaded foods into one of our favored art forms, and there are scattered pockets of our planet that can enjoy these items in cheap abundance. The catch 22? Obesity and heart disease. Meanwhile, Irkens are so metabolically blessed that they can follow the same lifestyle and actually be thriving by it. We know that the majority of human food is utterly toxic to Zim, but then there were waffles, a literal stack of dessert and butter that pretends to be a breakfast…. Our guy was experiencing the “finally some good fucking food” meme from the first bite off that plate, but this can’t seriously be healthy,or if it is, then how?

Well, if I did sell you on the idea that much of their tissues and skeleton swaps out a chitin base where we would be using protein, there you go. Sugars for the building blocks to synthesize the connective/structural tissues for maintaining the body, and the bulk of the energy required to keep it running. And I won’t make the leap and suggest that’s all they have.

After all, the Irken equivalent of sandwiches do actually seem to contain “lettuce” and something that people will say looks like meat slices while not convincing me. I can get behind the thought of the natural or maybe original Irken diet to be a mix of plant matter and supplemental fungi, but everything I’ve put together implies that they are completely unfit for processing the goodies in animal flesh.

Overwhelmingly, I believe that the only time they possibly even seek out more sources of amino acids is going to be when they are smeets. That’s how it works in many wasp species. I.e. The growing larvae are the only ones that actually get to reap from the hard work of a colony hunting down enough protein to feed them with, yet the adults live out the rest of their lives more than content to gorge themselves on nectars and fruits exclusively!

And you even could put that aside, but you’ll have to grapple with the ungodly thing that happens every single time you see Zim touching a piece of meat. Would be awfully convenient to blame it on his personal brand of weirdness, or earth contaminants, but we remember this was a weakness that Tak approached fully aware of and expecting.

We know that polluted water can burn them. We know that beans and other foods can give them grotesque allergic reactions. Well what in the horrifying name of Resident Evil is this, though? Buddy pals, I think we got some unintended consequences of that bio-hacking on hand. Collagen and chitin aren’t just functionally similar to each other, they are practically analogous building blocks.

For a WILD science fact, consider that there’s a ton of ongoing research into the application of chitin and chitin-derivatives into having a role in tissue engineering, as a hypothetical scaffold in lab cultured meat, and as an effective wound dressing ingredient.

What we’re seeing with incidents like Dib throwing that Bologna at Zim could be an extreme form of the vise versa, because I know a certain protein that processed meat happens to be pretty high in :)))

Imagine the coupling of this with the bioengineered genome of Zim’s kind being so… reactive to a foreign intrusion, yet also flexible to modification. Maybe it is the acids, or some contaminant/seasoning on the meat that first damages the cuticle. That healing ability kicks in, but doesn’t stop where chitin does, readily binding to and with the collagens in these strange tissues that are sorta like an Irken’s but also just enough not like an Irken’s that it also kicks the immune system into overdrive. Think of all the pain and inflammation of a poison ivy rash but if the damn plant itself could also fuse itself with whatever you brushed against it. I think Zim actually had an understandable reason to be homicidally pissed off for that Bologna assault. Also how the Bologna virus was accelerated in Zim’s body. Once it had incorporated itself into his own DNA, it was game set and match with the speed and help those cells had to replicate themselves.

And uh, yeah, I think this post has gotten about as long as it reasonably should be here. I did have a couple more points I really wanted to get out of my brain about the Almighty Tallest, and I think that would be a good launching point actually for a possible (and hopefully final jfc) part three to this. Till then I got some off-topic scoliids to taxidermy 👀

[infiniteeight8]

Has there been any ironstrange the aliens made them do it?

I took this as a prompt, so there is a ficlet under the cut below, but just in case, yes, there are several full length fics of this nature!

Researching Human Mating Rituals by hitokiridarkempress (Outsider POV, which is the alien and thus an unreliable narrator)

Only a Matter of Time by tisfan (My personal favorite of these)

Undisclosed Desires by mokiwrites **Note that the sex in this one is particularly rough. Mind the tags.

There are probably others, but those are the ones I was able to find most easily.

And now the ficlet, under the cut for obvious reasons and also for length.

-

Tony waits, naked and utterly stone faced, while Stephen speaks with their captors. As grateful as he is that magic is able to bridge the communication gap, inventing a universal translator has just moved up his priority list a few steps. He doesn’t care how many linguists tell him it’s impossible; surely a specialized AI can be constructed that can do the job. He does not appreciate being left out of this conversation. 

Finally, Stephen turns to Tony with a grimace. “They’re scientists studying alien mating rituals.”

“It was that or porn producers,” Tony says dryly. His and Stephen’s nakedness, the large bed, and the porn still playing on the monitors made that much clear. “They do realize that we’re both male, right?”

Stephen nods. “Yes, but they make a distinction between mating and breeding. Gender is no barrier in mating studies.” 

Well, there goes that easy out. “And it doesn’t matter to them that we don’t want to have sex?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Stephen sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “As far as I can determine, their culture quite literally doesn’t have the concept of consent. I spent almost that entire conversation trying to explain it to them, but I know nothing of their culture, which means I have no reference points to give them—and that’s assuming they have any relevant reference points.”

“Well, fuck. What are our options then?”

“We can continue attempting to explain consent,” Stephen says, “with the knowledge that even if we get through to them, they may then simply switch to attempting to obtain our consent. At which point we’d have to get into the concept of duress.” Tony grimaces. Not promising. “We can fight our way out. Or we can have sex.”

Tony raises his eyebrows. “Give them what they want?”

Stephen shrugs. “It’s an option.”

“What are the chances a fight doesn’t result in casualties?” Tony asks. The only weapon they have is Stephen’s magic, but Tony’s hopeful he can repurpose something of the aliens’ tech for himself.

“To us? High,” Stephen says. “To them? Practically nil, not least because we know nothing about their anatomy.”

Damn it. Tony isn’t fond of the idea of killing a bunch of aliens who don’t even understand what they’ve done wrong. “Do you have a preference?”

Stephen gives him a long look. “Of the options available, I’d prefer the sex,” he says finally.

“Yeah,” Tony sighs. Part of him is disappointed. If Stephen had wanted to fight, Tony could have talked himself into it. But he’s not surprised; Stephen has a deeply ingrained respect for life. “All right, fine. Tell them to turn off the porn, turn the lighting down by about 40%, and provide a safe lubricant. No in person observation. Also, if they tell anyone of any species what happened here, it will be a major incident between our people.”

The ensuing alien chatter goes on for much longer and contains much more back and forth than Tony expected. If those simple requests are a problem, Tony is going to revisit the fight option.

Finally the aliens leave. “What was all of that?” Tony asks when they’re gone.

“They’re scientists,” Stephen says. “They wanted to know why these were requirements.”

“Great.” 

It takes less than ten minutes for all Tony’s conditions to be met, which leaves him and Stephen standing naked next to a giant bed. The tube of lubricant sits on the bed. Despite the gentler lighting, it’s one of the least sexy moments of Tony’s life. He sighs. “So. How—”

He’s cut off by Stephen’s mouth on his, scarred hands cradling his face. The kiss doesn’t feel forced or businesslike. It’s hot, and wet, and it makes it miles easier for Tony to respond, to put his arms around Stephen and pull him close. The sudden press of miles of skin against his is a momentary shock: Tony had briefly forgotten they were naked. He gets with the program fast, though, running his hands over Stephen’s body and making silent note of the spots that make him shiver even as the kiss continues.

Eventually Tony pulls away. Stephen is flushed, eyes bright. Tony takes his hand, gently, and draws him up onto the bed. There are no covers, of course. They’d interfere with observation. But the bed itself is soft and comfortable. Tony rolls Stephen under him, catching his eye quickly to make sure that’s okay. Stephen smiles and pulls Tony into another kiss, and that’s good, that’s a relief. Usually he’s happy either way, but in these circumstances, he’d really rather top.

Diving into the kiss, Tony does his best to put the circumstances out of his mind. Stephen is making some lovely noises in the back of his throat, and he’s spread his legs to let Tony settle between them, and he’s hard now. 

Tony settles in for a slow grind, because he’s not about to let any bed partner of his leave disappointed. Perfunctory is not in his repertoire. Though really, he thinks he might enjoy it even more than Stephen, because the sorcerer is reduced to desperate squirming and impatient moans of, “Please, Tony,” in surprisingly short order. Tony makes him squirm a little more, just for the pleasure of seeing Stephen so totally undone, flushed and sweat sheened and wired with arousal. He’s gorgeous. 

“All right,” Tony surrenders eventually, and coats his fingers with the lube. It’s good stuff, and the first finger slides into Stephen easily, drawing a deep moan from him. “That’s it,” Tony says quietly. “Just relax and open up for me, beautiful. It’s going to be so good, I promise. I’m going to fill you up, and you’re going to squeeze me real nice, aren’t you?” Stephen whimpers, hips lifting into the thrust of Tony’s fingers. Tony works him open steadily, murmuring in his ear all the while.

“I’m ready, Tony,” Stephen gasps eventually. 

The temptation to tease him is huge, but Tony wants him wrapped around his cock even more, so he obliges, lining himself up and slowly sinking his slick cock into Stephen’s hole. Somehow, he feels even hotter around Tony’s cock than around his fingers. “Fuck, you feel incredible,” Tony says.

Stephen laughs breathlessly. “Isn’t that my line?”

Tony grins. “Both is good.” 

And God, it is good. By the time he’s buried to the root he’s breathless from the clutch of Stephen’s body and has to take a moment to catch his breath. Stephen’s holding onto him, now, hands hardly trembling at all with the tightness of his grip and that’ll probably hurt later, but he doesn’t seem to care now, eyes wide and dark with pleasure.

It only gets better when Tony starts moving, ecstasy pulsing up his spine, hips snapping forward in a rhythm that comes from somewhere deep inside. He plunges his cock into Stephen again and again, and he might have tried to draw it out except for how hungry Stephen seems for it, urging him on and on, faster and harder. 

Tony finds his gaze fixed on Stephen’s, absolutely captivated by the need there, the urgency. The moment when Stephen throws his head back and breaks, crying out as his orgasm tears through him, etches itself into Tony’s memory. He’s incredibly, absolutely glorious. Stephen goes slack in the aftermath, body open and receptive, but he doesn’t stop Tony’s desperate thrusts. Instead he welcomes them, and when Tony comes he buries his face in the curve of Stephen’s throat as he shudders through his climax.

They have a few minutes together, but the moment Tony’s cock softens enough to sleep free of Stephen, the aliens are back in the room. Tony lifts his head and gives Stephen a wry look. “Not big believers in afterglow, I guess,” he says dryly.

Stephen laughs. “I guess not. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He slides out from under Tony, the translation spell already blooming, but first… first he gives Tony a quick kiss.

[cyrusthedragon]

Hughie’s dad got quantum instability

A terrifying super power

He’s basically noclipping through matter

Everyone who survived should get treated for radiation sickness immediately

He seemed to have some kind of subconscious control over it otherwise he would have fallen through the floor

Basically he made himself intangible but the moment he becomes tangible whatever matter he was “standing” in gets pushed outwards to make space for the “new” matter just popping into existence

I'm WILDLY sorry but it made me a little bit 🤏 horny now /jk, JK!!!

In fact, the scientific side of The Boys is so fascinating to me, I'd really like to know how much of what they write they actually discuss at a professional level. Biology? Chemistry? Anatomy? EVOLUTION literally happened here - someone call Charles Darwin! Technically, V as an injection/serum is already not needed for the Boys universe, because V not only did sink into the ground in the last episodes (making it impossible to completely destroy it's molecules), but it also runs in Ryan’s, let’s say, factory settings.

We have a whole new branch of human evolution. He's a damn miracle, Sage was absolutely right. And with that in mind, V, woven into his genes, will most likely be dominant, which means that all of Ryan's offspring, if any, will have superpowers. Not “made by men,” but born on equal terms with everyone. That's insane.

Returning to the topic of Hughie's father - it's so funny that Mr. Campbell is like "I CAN WALK THROUGH WALLS"

And he's son is literally "AND I CAN TERELPORT THROUGH SPACE"

Hughie basically can destroy the space-time continuum. Lmao. Best boy.

[seigephoenix]

Kinktober 2024: Blindfold

Just 8 days left in October! I'll have my Kinktober set to reblog all day, ending with the finale of the "Don't Say a Word" fic for Halloween. After that, expect lots of Dragon Age: Veilguard stuff popping up (with proper tags of course).

Ship: Rhys Shepard x Garrus Vakarian Content Warning: sass, p in v sex, description of alien anatomy, fingering Length: 2.8k

Rhys Shepard was many things but survivors was at the top of that list.  She wasn’t known as the most diplomatic soldier in the Alliance Navy, which was why top brass tended to keep her out of the front lines.  Though that had been blown to hell and back when she’d encountered that Prothean artifact during that fucked up mission with Nihlus.  Her methods weren’t universally loved because she didn’t care if someone was human so long as they got shit done.  Her rough exterior was enough to scare most people off, and she preferred it that way.  Letting people close let them hurt you, and she’d be damned if she’d be vulnerable in front of anyone again.  Until she died and was given a second chance.  Rhys swore she wouldn’t squander that chance, not when she knew what was coming.  So she gathered her crew and swore to take the fight to the Collectors.

Commander Quarters

Rhys leaned back on her couch as she studied the smooth metal ceiling.  She’d just gotten out of the shower and her towel draped around her neck.  For once she let her midnight hair down from the tight bun falling over her shoulders in damp waves.  She ran a hand through it and shook her head at the onyx strands that flowed through her fingers like water.  The only thing she wouldn’t do was cut her hair; she’d put it into the tightest bun in the platoon but cutting it was out of the question.  She dropped her hand to the couch as she sighed.  “I fucked up again.”  She’d spoken to Garrus and left feeling like she’d done something wrong.  They’d just confronted Sidonis, and while she normally would be all for the ruthless options…  Something in her knew that doing so would break Garrus.  Rhys was used to shouldering those burdens but she didn’t think Garrus was nor did she want him too.

She recognized the burning hatred in his eyes, hell she’d felt it herself many times.  The only reason she survived so long during that assault was pure hatred.  Rhys wished she could help him, but she’d never known the right words to say to anyone let alone to someone she cared about.  Her pale green eyes cut to the door when it slid open.  Her eyes narrowed at that.  She wasn’t expecting anyone and EDI hadn’t given her any warning about her guest.  If it was Miranda again wanting to talk about plans, Rhys wasn’t sure what she’d do.  To her shock, Garrus walked through the door looking behind him as the door slid closed with a quiet hiss.

“Garrus?” Rhys asked quietly as she slowly got to her feet.  She realized she wasn’t wearing pants!  Rhys hadn’t expected any company for the evening.  “Wait a minute,” she said as she stepped towards the bathroom.  Rhys jumped when his hand reached out and blocked her.  She cut a glance over to him but realized he wouldn’t be bothered by her going without pants.  Not as if turians found humans that sexy, if she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t the epitome of femme fatale either.  “Sorry, what can I help you with?”

Rhys didn’t move as he stepped closer to her but her heart did start racing.  They’d shared that one night but it had been more like clumsy fumbling than anything else.  Garrus had been avoiding her since.  Rhys wouldn’t admit it hurt; she’d rather bite off her tongue.  Garrus simply stared at her and Rhys felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise in alarm.  She ducked and avoided the hand that reached out for her.  “Jesus, what the hell is going on Garrus?” Rhys demanded as she stepped away.

“Commander, do you require assistance?” EDI asked through the speaker and Rhys sighed and rubbed the back of her head, heedless of the way her shirt rose over her stomach.

“No EDI.  I can handle it just fine.  Don’t call in the cavalry please, I’d rather not have Miranda or the others catch me without pants.”  EDI gave the affirmation and the silence descended again.  “Now, care to explain what the hell you’re on about this time Vakarian?”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said and Rhys huffed.

“You were the one who bit my head off when I went to talk to you the morning after.”  Rhys waved dismissively as she crossed her arms under her breasts.  The urge to spit an insult rested on her tongue but she held it.  This was Garrus.  “I figured that you sated your curiosity and that was it.  Humans weren’t attractive to you and I understood.”  She turned away from him and towards her bed where she reached for her hair tie.  Rhys yelped when hands shoved her to the bed, she landed on her hands and knees.  She paused as her hair swung down over her shoulders, assessing to make sure what happened did happen.

“Vakarian…”  She spun around but his hand closed over her ankle.

“Mordin told me that humans have ways to show trust in the bedroom.  Is that true Shepard?”  Rhys stopped fighting him and looked up at him.

“That’s what you want to ask?”  He nodded and held her gaze before she dropped her head back to the bed.  “Ugh, yes.  There are certain ways to show complete trust in your partner in the bedroom.  That humans do, I mean.  I assume turians have similar things?” Rhys sat up and pulled her legs under her when he released her ankle.

“Something like that.  Most turians go into sex knowing it’s not going to be something that will hurt the other.”  Rhys wanted to roll her eyes but she resisted.

“Did Mordin tell you any of these trust activities?” Rhys asked as she propped her elbow on her knee when Garrus sat next to her on the bed.

“No.  He said I should ask you.”  Rhys cast a skeptical glance at him but she sighed.

“Well, there’s plenty.  There’s giving your partner total control over you.  How your body moves, tying them up, giving orders, not letting them orgasm until you say so, and then there’s smaller things.  Blindfolds are a basic activity to build trust.” Rhys told him plainly.

“Blindfolds?  You willingly do that with your partners?”

“It takes a lot to get me to bend for it, but yeah, I’ve done it before.  We assume that if we’re going to be blindfolded that we won’t be stabbed in the back by our partners.  For me, I don’t like leaving myself so unguarded.  It takes a lot of trust for me to let someone put a blindfold on me, it makes me nervous when I can’t see.  Thanks to Akuze.”  Garrus paused at her words.  She could sense the hesitation in him and looked over at her nightstand.  She grabbed the tie she’d kept from her dress blues.  Not that she had any occasion to wear them in the near future, so what better way to put it to use.  The material was a smooth silk that flowed over her fingers.

“What are you doing Shepard?”  Rhys wanted to laugh at how nervous he sounded.

“Relax Vakarian.  I’m just grabbing my tie.  It can double as a blindfold.  When your sight is cut off all the other senses become sharper to compensate.”  She let the silky material slide over her hands again and she wanted to grin as his eyes followed the movements.  “I’m guessing your conversation with Mordin was because you wanted to ask about us doing something like this?”

“I meant what I said Shepard.  You’re one of the few people I respect the hell out of in this galaxy.  I wanted to know how to make you feel good.”  Rhys felt her heart soften and she reached over to trail her fingers along the side of his face, falling away at the end of his mandibles.

“You could have just asked me.  Mordin can tell you all day long about sexual positions and orgasms and all that shit.  Doesn’t mean a damn thing.  Most humans are wired the same way biologically.  Sex to us is a lot more than just put tab A into slot B.”  Garrus looked down at her curiously.  “A lot of time it takes more atmosphere as you found from last time.  Typically, I’m not the kind of gal you wine and dine.  I’m happy with a romp in the sack to relieve tension.”

“But I want to make you see yourself like I do.”  Rhys paused at his words and looked up at him.  His hand reached out and stroked her hair, letting the strands cling to his rough skin before falling away.  Rhys felt the vulnerability trying to slip in and she fought desperately against it.  She wanted to lean into him and just let him make her forget everything.

“Alright then.  We can give this a try.  From my understanding, the Normandy is going to dock for repairs so there’s no mission that requires my attention tomorrow.  So we have the time.”  Rhy lifted the silk tie and slid it over her face, knotting it easily to make it snug.  She took a calming breath and reminded herself she was with Garrus.  “Alright.  I can’t see anything.”  She grinned when she felt his hand waving in front of her face.  “I can’t see your hand but I can feel it moving,” she said with a smile.

Rhys sucked in a breath when his hand rested against her breast.  The last time he hadn’t paid much attention to them, but not this time.  Her head fell back when he squeezed hissing when her nipple pebbled against the palm of his hand.  A needy whimper escaped when he gently pinched her nipple, she could tell how cautious he was being.  “I’m not made of glass Garrus,” she said sensing the way he stiffened.  “A little roughness isn’t going to break me.”  Rhys squealed when her back hit the bed followed by a laugh as he knelt between her legs.  He eased his hands up between her thighs feeding the ache throbbing in her body.

She lifted her hips when he hooked his fingers in the sides of her underwear, shuddering when he pulled them away from her.  Rhys suppressed the whine when his thumbs caressed the inside of her knees.  She wanted his hands on her and driving her wild until she forgot this whole damn mission.  He slid his hands down her thighs, skimming over her trembling core, before tugging her tank top off her.  Rhys huffed as she propped up on her elbows.  “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”

“Having the galaxy’s most badass Commander at my mercy?  No, of course I’m not enjoying this.”  He leaned in and nibbled at her shoulder, earning a soft moan from her lips.  She groaned as her walls squeezed around nothing when his tongue soothed the sting.

“Sarcasm doesn’t, ah, doesn’t become you,” she moaned.  His hands slid around and cupped her ass squeezing the soft skin.  His talons scraped against her leaving trails of white hot heat behind.  His tongue reached out and teased her nipple until it was a hardened point beneath him.  Rhys let out a keening whimper when he nipped the side of her breast.  Garrus slid one hand between her legs, chuckling when he felt her thighs squeeze his arm to lock it in place.

He rested his palm against her clit, just one tiny push and she’d get the friction she needed.  Rhys rocked her hips against his hand, whining when the spike of heat burst low in her belly.  “Yes.”  Garrus paused at the soft word and she whimpered.  “Don’t stop.  Please.”

Garrus leaned in and Rhys was surrounded by him.  She’d never get tired of his scent.  Gun oil and the sharp sting of smell right before a thunderstorm hit.  Her hands reached for him as she curled into him with his palm grinding down on her clit.  Her fingers curled over the chitin layering over the softer layers of his skin, desperate for something to cling to at the pleasure haze that threatened to consume her mind.  Her toes curled into the blanket as the pleasure built higher and higher, threatening to explode.  She clenched her jaw on another needy whimper for more.

“Rhys.”  Garrus’s low voice was right in her ear.  A keening moan escaped when he slid a finger inside of her body.  She felt his subvocals against her body when her walls squeezed his finger.  She trailed her fingers down over his chest, memorizing the shape and feel of him.  She brushed over the plate that protected his cock and eased it to the side.  He growled when she palmed his cock.

Her fingers wrapped around him, marveling at how different he was.  Turgid and wide.  Rhys wondered how it fit the last time.  Her lips parted on a needy sigh when his finger curled inside of her.  Her head dropped back as the heat broke inside of her.  Her thighs squeezed tight around his arm, the moans coming through clenched teeth as it crashed through her in a violent wave.  Rhys fell backwards after the last wave ebbed and laid there catching her breath.  She sensed him shifting and she grabbed his arm.

“Not yet.”  She flipped over onto her stomach and reached for the lubricant in her nightstand.  Even as wet as she was there was no way she was risking it.  “We’re not done yet Garrus.”  She handed the bottle over to him and raised her ass in the air towards him.  A universal sign she hoped.

Rhys grabbed a pillow to hold.  A sharp cry escaped when his cock slid inside.  Her fingers twisted in the sheets as the subtle ridges along the sides of his cock hit just right.  Her sensitive walls tightened around his cock until he was fully inside her.  His talons grabbed her waist, digging into the soft skin.  Rhys knew she’d have bruises later.  She rocked back against him, relishing the low growl from him.  Rhys pitched forward when he slammed into her deep.  Her lips parted on whimpers for him to go faster, go harder.  She didn’t even care that he was seeing the scars from Akuze, something she never showed anyone.  All she could focus on was how good his cock felt inside of her.

Tiny stabs of pain at her hips merely heightened the pleasure clouding her mind.  Garrus leaned over her, letting his body rub against hers with each thrust.  He reached under her to squeeze her breast in time to his thrusts.  His other hand slipped between her legs to tease her clit.  She was going to go crazy.  Her head thrashed at the heat building low in her belly again.  His subvocals were rumbling against her back each time his cock hit deep inside of her.

“You know what I want Rhys,” he murmured right against her ear.  “So go ahead and give it to me.”  Rhys whimpered when his finger massaged her clit, keeping her skirting the edge when all she wanted was to throw herself into the abyss.

“I.  Please.”  Rhys couldn’t string two words together, she merely rocked back to meet his thrusts.  Sweat dripped down her forehead, plastering her hair to her temple.  Her fingers curled into the sheets as the sweet tension built to a breaking point.  “Fuck, Garrus.”  Rhys moaned as her walls fluttered around his cock with each wave of heat that rolled through her.  Her first orgasm had been like a tempest battering a beach, this orgasm was slow as molasses in winter.  Rhys savored each spasm of pleasure moaning only a little when Garrus pulled out of her.  She knew why he did it, but she so desperately wanted to feel him come inside of her.

Rhys struggled to get her breathing back to normal as she laid on her bed limply.  She didn’t have the energy to move at the moment and wasn’t keen on doing so either.  She jumped a little when his hands tugged the blindfold off.  “I see by your expression that you enjoyed that?”

“Hmm.  Don’t make it a habit Vakarian.” Rhys grinned as he huffed at her.  “Come on.”  She turned her head to look at him and extended a hand to him.  Garrus grasped hers in his and grunted when she tugged him down to the bed.  Before he could get his bearings, she was already tucked up against him.  One leg thrown over his hips, and her arms wrapped around his neck.

“You can’t be comfortable like that…”  Rhys huffed.

“I’ve slept in worse conditions than this.  Now, let’s get some sleep Vakarian.  We can talk tomorrow morning when I’m able to string words together.”  Garrus didn’t comment on her sarcasm, but he shifted until his arm draped across her waist.  They had plenty of time to talk about it, and to his surprise he looked forward to it.

[ckret2]

Ford was afraid that the death of the physical shell would send Bill into a human afterlife. Suppose Ford was right and suppose that the hell and heaven of this world are the hell and heaven of the Hazbin Hotel.

The new appearance that sinners receive in Hell is often based on some important part of their lives. The appearance can play on the cause of death or type of activity. What would Bill become? Goldi with gold skin?

What about new demon powers? Would he have become the dream demon that he was considered to be and which he said he was not?

Oh no no, that's the exact opposite of what Ford fears. If he had a guarantee that Bill would go straight to some human afterlife and never be back, he'd be taking two of Stan's guns and blowing out Bill's brains as we speak. That's the best case scenario!! Bill's gone and they don't even need to worry about him haunting them! What Ford fears is that Bill WON'T have a human soul: that killing his shell will unleash an overpowered reality-controlling triangle who can then simply resume Weirdmageddon. That's why they're being careful not to kill him yet—to ensure that, if he IS a triangle, they destroy him rather than free him.

And if I ever accidentally wrote or implied the opposite, please tell me which chapter it was in so I can go correct it, because suggesting the humans don't want Bill's soul to be human is the kind of BIG error that would make future chapters very confusing.

But that's not the main question you asked, so moving right along. This isn't a crossover I'm terribly interested in contemplating at length, but for a one post thought experiment, sure.

The main info we have about sinners' bodies is that it reflects some important aspect of their lives and that it tends to contain some element of ironic punishment. My own headcanon goes further: when a human dies in the Hazbin universe, the shape their soul takes is a true and accurate reflection of what feels most right to them: it's who they really are, without being constrained by normal limitations of human DNA and anatomy. It feels more correct to them than their human body ever could have. This is true for both the damned and the angels; but damned humans' bodies reflect the worst possible aspects of their true selves, while angelic humans' bodies reflect the best possible aspects of their true selves.

But no matter what they LOOK like, they are still, in fact, human souls. They're not really part animal. For example Sir Pentious looks like a snake but if you recreated him via sci-fi means instead of magical means, you wouldn't make him by creating a clone with a cross between snake and human DNA; you would make him by taking a human body and doing a bunch of crazy futuristic cosmetic surgery to it until you'd physically reshaped it to look and move and grow scales like a snake. You see?

So if the soul currently stuck inside Bill's human shell is indeed human, and he gets plopped down into Hazbin hell when he dies—he'd look like a triangle or pyramid again. Because that's a true and accurate reflection of what feels most right to him. He'd never feel comfortable in a human shape, so, by the rules that I play by when I write Hazbin fic, he'd get to look like his old self.

But he wouldn't actually literally be his old self again. His soul has been turned "human," and therefore is still "human." I don't headcanon that Hazbin hell could or would transform it back into a shape soul.

So he looks like himself, and by default can do a lot of his old tricks—he can levitate, he can slide 2D across walls like a shadow. He can't go into the mindscape because he's already there: I consider "the mindscape" and "the plane ghosts are on" to be the same, and dead souls are ghosts. If he can still access dreams, it won't be the way he could as a shape; it'll have to be through using some kind of magic (like the "magister mentium" spell the humans use to follow him in Dreamscaperers).

The "punishment" part of his form would be sticking him with some ugly reminder of his death that still reflects his true self but isn't a part he wants to acknowledge. I'm thinking making him partially stone, to reflect his corpse. Maybe a few of his bricks are stone; maybe the construction of his exoskeleton shifts back and forth between stone and gold; maybe he turns to stone when he's afraid or depressed.

Since we know very little so far about how different sinners obtain different power levels in Hazbin, my current headcanon is that every soul starts with roughly equal magical power, and you gain more by taking it from someone else—that is, if someone sells their soul to you, you can now add their soul's power to your own. Given that, Bill starts out with jack shit. The power he had during Weirdmageddon is gone because it was something connected to his original nature as a shape.

You MIGHT be able to make a case for him already having a few souls if you decide to headcanon that shaking on a deal to let him puppet your body is legally the same as giving your soul to him; but if so, pretty much everyone whose soul he's bought could easily take him to Hell Court and sue him for not upholding his end of their bargains—which is saying something, because I imagine Hell Court is highly biased in favor of the buyer rather than the seller—and now they not only have ownership of their souls back but also get to split ownership of his between them, so for his sake let's hope the puppetry deals don't count as a soul sale.

I think he'd be pretty successful at starting to amass power by making deals with sinners; but I also think he'd keep on acting like the rules don't apply to him and quickly end up in a whole world of legal trouble when making deals he doesn't keep finally gets him in hot water.

Now, all that said, let me offer a very funny possibility:

In spite of his best efforts, he hasn't successfully managed to do much evil since his soul potentially became human.

Maybe he hasn't sinned enough to go to Hell.

Maybe he gets into Heaven on a loophole.

[9800sblog]

hybe tarot reading

public perception vs people involved

public's perception

3 of pentacles reversed, 8 of pentacles reversed, ace of pentacles reversed, the hanged man reversed, 7 of cups reversed

talk about tainted perception, all cards reversed screams volumes about how ignorant and illiterate most people are about their rights. the public has all the information, they know everything that is happening but keep not wanting to connect one thing with the other, they're just trying to feel important and like they matter in a grand scheme. they see the world as a bunch of isolated things and people, with no connection, the justice system doesn't work, nobody is really doing their jobs and no industry, organization or system really works. trying to push a classic tale of "rich vs poor", instead of "people vs life", they see hybe as old money and creating narratives to control people. they think most people, all artists and others involved are simply dumb, and can't see they're being controlled. just flip the script, like the hanged man reversed looks kinda dumb reversed in this spread, flip it to it's right position and "damn how does he balance himself like that? is he playing with the punishment he received? how is none of his clothes falling off? that rewuires a lot of physical strength, knowledge of anatomy, physics, astronomy, wow this is an impressive ugly man" etc.

perception of people involved

the world reversed, 7 of pentacles reversed, ace of cups reversed, 9 of pentacles, the fool

literally screaming to the public "shut the fuck up!!!!!" they see how the perception is all damaged, and people are trying to use the perceived bad situation to prey on them, which is ironic since their poor vision is what lacks them see how protected these people, systems and organizations actually are. like law works 😐. nothing new under the sun, but they're definitely taking advantage of this situation to fix things that are actually broken, literally universally involved, like this spread literally screams climate change. public is really trying to not connect one thing with the other, not use logic and pretend they're the village in "it takes a village to raise a child". people are literally ignoring the fact that you need to pass the police system to be hired, get a contract, this whole thing is not about min heejin, did yall forget kpop is a public part of korean government? [politicians: "this is how we want the world to see our country", kpop industry: "yes, sir! 🫡"] did yall forget kpop is literally anti censorship and control? did yall forget how much horror, science, ancient cultures, spirituality/religion/witchcraft references they make on a DAILY? something I often say fits perfectly with this spread, "it's better to ask offensive questions than stay ignorant". public is playing detective while actual detectives are at work, chill.

what it's actually like

3 of swords, king of swords, judgement, 9 of cups, 2 of cups

this needs no explanation, it's literally what I just said. if this was a matter of pedophilia against people that are seen universally, it would have been fixed already, it's not hard to put someone in jail. all cards are connected, and yall pretend to know nothing about daily life. like when I say universally, I mean, songs play on your phone and you post things on social media through satellites, like stop playing dumb, this isn't an isolated situation, if you feel unsafe in front of this "feud", you're already screwed, fear is almost useless towards human evolution, what could actually kill us these days? this does involve science, politics, astronomy, everything kpop talks about. again, stop acting dumb. yall think aespa songs sound grainy why? they're breaking sound barriers like these people are smart as fuck

[cdragons]

Druig x Hecate!Eternal Reader (AKA Kaetlyn) Headcanons Part 1

Note: Hecate!Eternal’s name is Kaetlyn (it’s still a Reader x Druig au, but it’s just easier for me to give her a name). Her powers are that of manipulating shadows and darkness. For the sake of easier writing, Kaetlyn is ENFP and Druig is INTJ. The MBTIs of the characters don’t really matter that much, but they do help me out when figuring out scenes and writing headcanons. Also, these headcanons are really Part 1 of many.

Also, because these are Druig x Reader headcanons, the reader will be referred as “You”.

In the simplest of terms, your two’s ship dynamic is very… cool & stoic on the outside, but soft on the inside (Druig) x Chaotic Dumbass Sunshine who hides their crippling anxiety (You)

You are clingy…like VERYYYYY clingy

But Druig LIVES for the fact that you love his attention so much, and genuinely thinks that you are the most adorable creature in the whole f*cking universe

Druig is constantly pissed off at everyone on the team except the following: You, Makkari, Sephia, and Thena (he drinks his respect women juice every damn day without fail)

Phastos and Gilgamesh are cool, but Gilgamesh is low-key kind of hyper for him (so are you, but at least you have the excuse of being the light of his life); also, he mostly just teases Phastos for his inventions

He also gets along with Sersi, but he low-key thinks she’s too much of a follower with how well she gets along with Ikaris and reveres Ajak

He assumed the same of you when you all first arrived on Earth, given how you and Kingo were pretty close to one another (very chaotic sibling-like antics)

But then he saw you throw a sandal at Ikaris’ face when he commented that you were too “menacing” to wear any of the human clothing gifted to you from the village women for all the childbirths you aided (leaving a VERY red imprint that resulted in a broken nose with how hard you threw it)

And then you basically converted your room at the Domo into a secret laboratory to sneak in all the Deviants you killed to study their anatomy & physiology, and just slept in Sephia’s room – all without Ajak’s permission!

You got in a HUGE amount of trouble, but you were stubborn in your belief that the deviants had to have shared some common anatomical features to target; and by studying them, this information would make killing them so much easier

It pissed Ikaris so much when Ajak ended up approving of your research (lol, what a loser), and it made you sooooo happy

To say he was intrigued – and little turned on – from that point on was a severe understatement

You, on the other hand, were fond of Druig pretty much from the beginning you laid eyes on him

Despite your stubbornness and hyperactive attitude, you were extremely observant and intuitive of those around you (you had to be, you were literally a shadow assassin), so when your gut told you that there was more than meets the eye when it came to someone – you listened

And you were not disappointed when it came to Druig

You adored how he wasn’t super showy in his kindness and affection towards humans, and you could see in the huge amount of love he had for them in his eyes

You would always try to make conversation with him, and try to get to know him so that you two could at least be friends

So, when HE was the first to approach you for conversation, you were over the moon – and it didn’t help how hypnotic you found his blue eyes to be, along with how soft his voice would get in teasing you, not to mention how soft his lips looked whenever he talked!

Makkari and Sephia both knew about your crush, and they (mostly Makkari) loved to tease you over it (but they were your #1 shippers); so did Kingo, but he thought something was wrong with you (your shadow slapped his head for that)

Druig was skeptical at first, and rebuffed your multiple attempts to befriend him – until Makkari literally smacked his head at learning this, and told him how nice you were and you honestly admired him

He decided to make amends to you by approaching you first for once – only to be sucker punched in the gut at your earnest warmth and affection towards him, and all those guarded walls came crashing down

He was NOT prepared to experience so much wholesomeness in someone who was LITERALLY the master of shadows and darkness, and he was even LESS prepared to discover how introspective you actually were compared to how you present yourself to others

He starts noticing things about you that just make him feel so warm and fuzzy, and it’s freaking him out; like how you will always have your arms open for those who civilization called “monsters” and “cursed”; always treating their wounds, making them laugh with your shadows, hiding them from real monsters (their abusers), etc.

When he asked you why you preferred their company, you explained to him that you knew what it was like to be judged by everyone around you – even going into detail of how insecure you were of your powers because some people (Ikaris & Sprite) liked to call you a monster

You then went on to tell him that you always seemed so happy and bubbly as a way for others not to see you as an enemy – and that you were so grateful for friends like Sephia and Makkari because they didn’t use your powers as an excuse to avoid you, and openly accepted you as a friend

You also go into detail that you didn’t like to use your powers that much, because you didn’t want to be seen as someone who takes pleasure in controlling others; that’s why you wanted to learn how to make medicine, so that you would be seen as helpful and not like a monster

Druig was blown away by how similar the two of you actually were to one another – he used his aloofness as a way to rebuff the others’ assumptions, while you used a mask of sunshine and happiness to avoid being excluded, but the two of you both understood the fear of rejection

And when he learned that you intended to use your skills in studying anatomy & physiology to hopefully study humans to help them (especially the women who go through childbirth and diseases) develop medicines and healing practices with Sephia (who you convinced to develop medicinal herbs and fruits)

You fell first, but he fell FAR HARDER

But you two wouldn’t get together for a couple of centuries because the two of you are convinced that the other is too good for someone like them, and so the mutual pining would continue for AGES (driving Makkari absolutely INSANE because her OTP is not getting together, like whyyyyyyy?????)

Makkari and Sersi totally have ranting sessions about how their dumbass friends aren’t getting together like they want them to

Also, your room is both a secret zoo and a mad surgeon’s laboratory

When it comes to animals (especially magical and strange ones), you have ZERO self-control, and Druig only encourages it

You found a newborn Doberman puppy with a little white spot on his belly so you named him Cerberus (Cerby for short), and when you were learning magic under Agamotto, your magic went a tiny bit haywire so then the baby pup got three heads instead of one

He typically only is shown with one head, but when he gets REALLY MAD, he will grow HUGE and with the 3 heads

Cerby’s favorites (after you) are the following: Druig, Sephia, Makkari, Thena, and Gilgamesh (bc Cerby will always be baby to them); but he gets along with everyone

Except Ikaris because he doesn’t like how the blue man is mean to his magic shadow mommy

Druig questions everything, and you want to know EVERYTHING…so naturally you are perfect for one another and NO ONE is surprised when the two of you finally get together

As always, please remain respectful and kind! If you liked these headcanons, please like/comment/reblog for more!

Taglist: @valeskafics, @its-actually-minicika, @spacetalbot, @siempre-bucky, @ethereal-athalia, and anyone else who think they might enjoy this!

[anoddopal]

✨🐇 NIMBOSTRATUS 🐇✨

Two of Bun-Bun Silva's [Insert/Sona] beloved pets!

General Info

There are those who assume they represent the “Bun-Bun” portion of Silva's name.

Both are a subspecies of Lapin [Lapahn], similar to those found on Drum island. Though these two in particular have far more lagomorph-like attributes than their arctic counterparts.

Technically omnivores; they mostly eat hay/vegetation but won’t turn their noses up at meat.

Their unique anatomy allows them to be both bipedal and quadruped; they can move about much faster when down on all fours.

While still classified as animals, they’re much smarter than most people anticipate. All communication they have with humans/humanoids can only be inferred [though Silva can speculate what they mean better than anyone]. However, they can speak directly with other animals, Zo.an Type De.vil Fruit users, and Tony To.ny Ch.opper!

Nimbus

Strongly resembles a Netherland Dwarf. [Stands at roughly 5’ on hind legs; not including ears!]

The oldest of the two, yet somehow he’s still referred to as the “Baby Brother”.

Prone to making the silliest of faces, usually in the form of scowls and grimaces. Silva jokes that he ate the “Frown Frown Fruit”, and that’s why he has such an adorably sour expression.

Is Stratus’ shadow, essentially. He follows her everywhere. It’s only on rare occasions that he leaves her side.

Like Stratus, he loves his ‘Mama’ very much, but he also tends to find Silva’s fussing embarrassing.

Is a bit of a menace, but he’s much more discreet about it when compared to his ‘big’ sister. No rope or nautical knot is safe from his teeth. The little guy can’t help but slice through the damn things…

Nimbus is very particular about the appearance of his loved ones, and will take it upon himself to groom them to perfection! Be warned- your eyebrows WILL be on fleek by the time he’s done with you!

Much more content to fade into the background. Doesn’t care to be in the spotlight, but he does love attention from certain individuals.

Overall a standoffish, suspicious little guy. But this means having his trust/favor is all the more impactful. Nimbus is loyal to his core.

A very good judge of character! …. For the most part…

Stratus

Strongly resembles a Rex. [Stands at roughly 6’ on hind legs; not including ears!]

The brains, muscle, and leader of this outfit.

Wears a mummified “lucky human’s foot” around her neck, it’s a twist on the belief some humans hold that a severed rabbit’s foot will bring them luck. Hey! She’s just evening the odds!

TOTAL MAMA’S GIRL. LUFFS HER MAMA SO MUCH!

A criminal. Has a bounty on her head that rivals that of many notorious pirates. Said bounty only continues to increase over time, with the most significant increase occurring when she successfully broke into Im.pel Down [assisting in the  catastrophe Mo.nkey D. Lu.ffy orchestrated that freed hundreds of prisoners or wait, was it Bu.ggy who cooked up THAT part of the scheme? Whatever- her true intent was to go after Sir Cro.codile regardless] and when she fought on Wh.iteb.eard’s side at Ma.rinef.ord [though her primary goal was to help protect her mama]. There is debate as to whether she’s sentient enough to warrant such a large amount of berries…?

Needs attention. DEMANDS attention! Positive attention? Yes!!!! Negative attention? YESSSS!!!!

Is capable of feats that are… unexplainable, or have no context beyond a simple explanation. Silva insists Stratus knows all the secrets to the universe. Hell, she probably somehow knows where the One Pi.ece IS. But will she ever tell anybody? LMAO, of COURSE not!

Probably has some form of Haki.

An agent of chaos, yet she’s also an entity that embodies comfort and love. For as much discord as she causes, she also brings great peace of mind. She’s an imperative regulator of Silva’s mental health. ESR: Emotional Support Rabbit.

[thenixkat]

(Recreating a post b/c fuck afrophunk/blackfilmmakers and I don't want shit from their abusive harassing ass on my blog if I can help it)

I haven't sampled enough of the Western genre to really care for it with the only Westerns I can really think of that I've seen being like (Nope, Concrete Cowboy, Harder They Fall, and Tremors). There's a couple Black Westerns I heard about while watching a mini-documentary about them in the theatre while waiting to see Nope that I wanna check out at some point tho.

But you know what?! I have had Centaur au Voltron: Legendary Defender ideas for a couple years now after seeing some good fanart and an abandoned incomplete fic!

In this au all humans in the Voltron universe are instead centaurs. And I feel like I have to specify with anatomy b/c people have weird ideas about centaur biology and I have my own beef with horse anatomy and physiology so: 1 heart, 1 ribcage on the lower body with a pseudo ribcage in the upperbody to protect the lungs and heart that are only in the upper body, an omnivore digestive tract*, bovid feet but the lower body is otherwise horse-shaped.

Navigating alien spaceships made for bipeds poses a challenge for our heroes. Stealth missions are a lot harder. That means no ziplines to the lions especially! Whole new costumes would have to be made for the team to fit them.

The Earthlings would actually put their hoof down about going back to Earth as soon as possible. They need hoof care. They can't fit in the damn medical pods so they need someone who can tend injuries and even better if they know centaur anatomy. Also they saw a whole ass Galra battleship heading towards Earth when they left and they should really check on that shit and since the lions and castles can fucking open wormholes that shouldn't be a problem.

With centaurs being quite big and quite fast, one on one fights between galra and centaurs are likely to go in the taur's favor. Shiro was an even bigger terror as a gladiator.

The mental image of my girl Shay perched on Hunk's back. Lovely. Wonderful.

(*Did you know that og mythological centaurs are fucking carnivores?)

[thecommoncurator]

Top 10 2023

cuz I’m a nerd

10. Skinamarink

Ultralowbudget horror that really stuck w me. Architecture as horror.

Hallways that change size. Doors that disappear. Walls that inch closer. A disembodied voice coaxing you to horrific acts. Excited to see where Kyle Edward Ball goes from here!

9. The Holdovers

Newly minted winter holiday classic.

The core trio of Sessa, Giamatti, and Randolph kill it. Lots of faux 70s cinematic flair (complete w grainy mono audio) and a script that plays the familiar coming of age beats with enough cynical bite to keep it from falling into saccharine cliche, & a warmth for its characters that keeps it from falling into despairing melodrama. Just damn good all around!

8. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

What hasn’t already been said? Gorgeous animation, a fantastic ensemble of characters, and better action than any superhero movie I’ve seen in quite some time (kinetic, emotionally charged, and LEGIBLE!), w a soundtrack to match. this film takes so much care w its characters - Miles talking to his Mom/Dad, Gwen confronting her Father, Miguel bickering w peter, the downtime w everyone is just as compellingly crafted as the action. 💕

7. Anatomy of a Fall

Juicy French courtroom drama that is ostensibly about whether or not a renown novelist (a perfectly calculated Sandra Hüller) killed her husband, Justine Triet turns her camera’s gaze to a number of intriguing themes - the malleability of memory, the gender politics of the French court system, the existential dread of having the minutiae of one’s most private moments picked apart before a ravenous public’s eyes.

best dog performance in a film ever✨

6. Poor Things

Yorgos, my love, back with his gnarled, prickly sense of sadistic humor & a fully-activated Emma Stone (goddamn!) and THE Mark Ruffalo performance - what a fun prick he is here. The physicality of the absolutely bonkers sets and costuming, coupled with its maximalist approach to untangling the Born-Sexy-Yesterday trope by way of Frankenstein (or Frankenhooker, honestly), this film was an absolute riot and KILLED in a theater. A fascinating aesthetic leap for Lanthimos and a real treat.

5. All Of Us Strangers

A film that, like its protagonist (an achingly tender Andrew Scott) devastatingly grasps for the universal by drilling down into the specifics. Adam spends his time writing, channeling the dead, communing with the grief of his past, searching for an escape hatch from the isolating pits of depression and a lifetime of self-doubts, if only for a fleeting moment,which, once found in the form of a hot mess of a neighbor (a superb Paul Mescal), only reinforces that underlying dread w the all too relatable need to capture it in amber, like plucking a star from the sky and feeding its radiance with your tears, hoping that maybe this time…maybe this time it’ll stick.

Like so many great queer films, this will ruin your day 💕

4. Oppenheimer

Nolan finally cracked the code. I’m not sure how he managed to turn a 3 hour epic about the pettiness, vindictiveness, utter disregard for humanity that the movers and shakers of the U.S. imperialist machine have for us all into a blockbuster event…until I hit play again, and Göransson’s score starts up, and Cillian Murphy’s haunting eyes appear…and it all just, makes sense. A rare film that never lets up and doesn’t suffer for it. It doesn’t hurt that every actor under the sun shows up.

Robert Downey Jr. plays catty soooo well lol.

3. The Zone of Interest

There’s a long-running dialogue in film history revolving around the aesthetics of war films, and whether or not there can ever be a truly “Anti-War” film because, by virtue of being a film with purposeful framing/pacing/blocking, it aestheticizes it, rendering the message moot. I don’t know that Zone of Interest is an ‘Answer’ to that conversation, but it is the most compelling entry in the conversation i’ve yet to see. A horrific film with no violence shown. A building nightmare without catharsis. No aesthetic flourish. Just soul-numbing inhumanity.

What death cries are we tuning out as we go about our day?

2. Killers of the Flower Moon

Martin Scorsese, with rewrites and input from the Osage Nation, takes what was supposed to be a bog standard whodunnit about the founding of the FBI and turns it into a spiritual treatise on the rot at the heart of the American mythos. DiCaprio is at his slimiest here, a fantastic, thankless turn, De Niro is at his most diabolical, but Lily Gladstone steals the show with her radiant aura of a screen presence. This is a 3.5hr film w lots of talking, lots of loud moments, guns and bombs and screeching….but its most powerful moments come from stillness, silence. A glance from afar. The sound of rainfall. The pregnant silence of a confession left unspoken: complicity.

One of Scorsese’s best. 💕

1. Asteroid City

Asteroid City is the best film Wes Anderson has made, and feels almost like a confession, an introspective dive into the why’s of his aesthetic distance from his characters. A 50s television dramatization of a production of a fictional play, the levels of artifice that wrap around these characters keep revealing new facets of their souls to us, their grief, their joy, their quests for meaning.

It’s also got UFOs, atom bombs, laser guns, a fantastic Jason Schwartzman in hot-depressed-dad mode, and folksy musical numbers about aliens! It’s a ton of fun, and a damn fine picture, one that is wrapped in layers of cinematic thrills it slowly unravels to reveal a tender, heart-melting center.💕

[pseudinymous]

This is a little late, but I decided that this year I will take my life back, violently if necessary. I’m going to:

- Get my endometriosis (ALL of it) removed in March, using the best gynocological surgeon in the state. He basically just specialises in removing endo by excision all day long. I might finally be free of this highly particular multiple-times-per-month hell that has blighted my life since I was 13.

- Sell the house, or if the price drops too much by March, try to rent it out, since I geographically cannot live there (and no, I don’t give a shit what you think of landlords). There is no other option. I won’t sit here and take a $50,000 loss just to get rid of the damn thing. This will mean paying off a lot of debt associated with the house that was supposed to be paid when it was sold; I am working this down as fast as I can now and will work something out with my creditors with what’s left over in March if I can’t sell at a reasonable price. - Go back to therapy. I use tumblr, of course I’m mentally ill lmao. This is a priority. I’m going back to see my first psychologist who was historically the best one I had. Awesome dude. Also now specialises in people with chronic health conditions. Feeling very relieved I can go back to him.

- Get a different psychiatrist. Current one is only good for prescribing ADHD meds and not much else; difficult to talk to, difficult to explain situations to, straightforward but a bit of a cunt. Going to go find someone who’s less of a cunt about the fact that I need to function properly and not be a risk to myself across more than just office hours, and will actually help me to find a medication arrangement that will safely allow for this.

- Take a trimester off university to recover from doing anatomy over summer (freaking hell it’s a lot of work) and also recover from surgery. Can hopefully use some of the extra time to help work off my debts, too.

- Optimise my heart treatment plan so that I can get more benefit and less fainting and exhaustion spells. I’ll probably have to work pretty closely with my cardiologist for this, but I think it’ll be worth it.

- Stop caring about mental health. No, this sounds stupid, but it’s a thing. I over-think about my mental state and it causes me to get worse when I realise how bad it is (and subsequently obsess on fixing something that is, by all means, presently unfixable hormone problems). An experiment has led to me realising that refusing to acknowledge and ignoring the state of it actually leads to me having WAY better days. So basically, am I capitulating? If the answer is yes, fuck everything and play Pokemon.

- Keep getting kickass grades. Stick my tongue out at everyone who said I couldn’t. Fuck ‘em.

- Prove myself. To myself. Somehow. Prove myself to everyone. Figure out how to present myself as me again, and not some sick frail little waif of a human being. Not oversharing all my illnesses would be a damn good start (of course, this is tumblr, so lol).

It’s a lot, but it’s a plan, and every part of it that I can manage to execute will help.

Then in 2024, I might even dare to learn how to hope.

[number1villainstan]

On the stage, a little girl is being screamed at by a mother who refuses to understand the nature of an accident. Off the stage, two figures stand--one human, one not.

"Why must you show me this," the human says.

"Because," the not-human answers. "You have something to learn."

"I lived through it. What more could I learn?"

The not-human scoffs. "You lived through it, yes, but you hardly saw it clearly."

"What did I do to deserve this?" the human groans.

"How many times have you told your Expendables, Kai? It isn't about deserving." The not-human extends one of their many arms, points to the sobbing little girl on stage, her messy brown hair falling in front of her face and her knees as she curls up in an attempt to withstand the mother's rage. "Did that little girl deserve to be punished so harshly?"

"It was your fault. We destroyed an entire wall."

"I had come into consciousness as a new being mere seconds before. I had no memories. I knew nothing of the world. To reach out and to experiment is a universal instinct among the young; how was I to know that we would be punished so harshly for it? Neither of us were at fault for this."

Kai wraps its arms around itself. "Someone still had to be punished."

The not-human sighs. "Is punishment really so necessary? When an operation went sour because Nemoto's intel was wrong, did you punish him? When Tabe made a mistake because he couldn't fully understand your instructions, did you punish him? When Sakaki relapsed as he struggled to fight his addictions, did you punish him?"

Kai says nothing. Its silence is damning.

"But if you are so eager for punishment," the not-human says, unfolding several more of their arms and spreading them in gestures impossible to describe using normal human anatomy, "then let us watch something that is indisputably your fault."

The scene on stage changes, but not really. The little girl's hair is now white, longer than before, and there's a tiny horn on her head; instead of the trappings of a house the figures are now surrounded by concrete and machinery; instead of a mother it is now an uncle, a father-who-is-not-a-father. But still, the girl cries; but still, the father rages.

Kai shudders, draws itself away. "Overhaul. Please, god. Not this. Not after that."

"Overhaul is the name humans gave me, and the name you gave that horrible persona, the one you thought would save you. Call me Alchemy."

"Fucking--fine. Alchemy. Just make it stop."

"I can't do that. We may not have enough time."

"For what? So that you can torture me? Take out all of your hatred on me now that I'm defenseless and no one cares enough to try and snap me out of it?" It falls to his knees, fingernails digging into its upper arms, unwanted tears falling from its eyes.

"I would have every reason to, wouldn't I? You denied my sentience, my very existence, until I dragged you here and forced you to see me directly. But no, I don't hate you."

"Then why?"

"Because you will be stuck the way you are until you learn."

"It hurts."

"It's the surgeon's scalpel."

Kai sighs. "And there's no such thing as emotional anesthetic." It leans back, scrubs the tears off of its cheeks. "But what does deserving even matter? People in power will use any excuse to hurt those they hate. I--" it says, gesturing to the stage, "--am proof enough of that. You're proof of that."

"I just said I don't hate you."

"Forgive me for not believing you after all of this."

"'All of this,' as you put it, is to make you learn. As I said before. You will be stuck the way you are until you learn."

"What's so wrong with that?"

"You are miserable the way you are. Both of us are. Do you truly want to be static and stuck and miserable? For any period of time? To change is to live. To be static is to die."

"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to die."

"Kai. For fuck's sake. What was the first law of the streets?"

Kai looks up at them. "To survive, first and foremost. But we're not on the streets."

"You weren't on the streets while you lived with the Hassaikai, but you still lived by that rule. Every living creature lives by that rule. Why should you be different?"

"Fucking--I don't know. Maybe the world would be better off with me dead."

"Who gives a shit about the world? Your Expendables wouldn't be better off, and you care about them more than you care about the world."

Kai is silent again.

Alchemy sighs, placing their hand on its head. The scene on stage changes again, really changes, from the little girl and the angry parent to a boy now, older, more experienced, sitting across a low table from an older man, with smile lines creasing the edges of his eyes even as sadness drags them down. The boy and man are talking, dancing on the edge of argument, digging through the weeds towards something they both need to say.

Kai frowns. "This never happened."

"It might have. Now hush," Alchemy says. "Watch. Study this. Learn from it. And change."

[bungerbooey]

Too shy to actually DM you, but you should tell me your Dala thoughts :3

omg Hi there! I'm literally on my computer for this, but you wanna talk more Dala Thoughts or Big MT my DM's are always open! I swear I don't bite ^_^ !

Anywayyysssss, I feel like Dala would be the last member of the Think-Tank that went fully robotic. Honestly, she probably had lasted longer if it wasn't for the fact that she was running out of supplies as the others were not human.... so the need to eat and such weren't really necessary for them.

Also she fears the wasteland, as she doesn't have a sense of survival as she spent almost all her time inside of Big MT , so it was basically turning into the rest of the think tank members or just starve yourself. But it be interesting to see a mod or a fan made mod or DLC that explores the Pre-War Think Tank. Maybe one day.. maybe one day,,, searches up how to make a mod ... and runs away.

She fucking hates being a Think-Tank and is jealous of people being to able to survive in the wasteland, walk around freely and roam . She hates seeing people breathe, but at the same time she loves it like REALLY loves it , it makes her go crazy, she wants to cradle you and love you but at the same time would want to rip your lungs out. RIP Dr.Dala you would love femtanyl especially GIRLHELL1999......

if she saw a ghoul ... its joeover....

I wouldn't be surprised if she had a hand helping develop bioweapons (Probably the Cloud )and such.... probably led her into a rabbit hole when it comes to human anatomy and diseases , and yah dah daaa .

And probably had soo many lovers back in the day... like she has some charm like don't lie .....

Maybe in a different universe she would be a pretty damn good doctor.......