#in ways you cannot comprehend

[lucabyte]

sorry loop if this looks gay to the viewers

[bogdreamz]

whatever it was. you hate how you came to love it. admirable lunatic

[clockworkvampyre]

i noticed that mr enoch drebber has never officially had a completed fullbody reference, so i took matters into my own hands and completed him myself just for fun. it felt like dusting off and repairing an old rusty pocketwatch lmao

i added his original reference for both comparison and convenience. (he is rather tall) (and there is a bonus under the cut)

[justa-moth]

fish n chips to me is like,,,,, an enigma. not purely romantic, not purely platonic, not purely queer platonic, just,,,, ✨

literally no other way i can describe it jsgdjsgdjsvs

they have a relationship thats on such an ethereal level that it cannot be comprehended by the human mind. they simply exist together to spite everyone around them.

they change what they refer to each other as constantly. people become excessively more and more confused the more this goes on. one day its boyfriends, next its husbands, next its friends, next its co-captains, next its co-bastards. their relationship is a question to everyone including themselves.

[cybertron-after-dark]

Being constantly surrounded by the presence of a loving God sounds great until you realize you never know when his freaky fuckin eyes are gonna show up to check on you.

And man. They do it a LOT.

[trashratsaws]

We ALL love the scarian dynamic of watcher!Grian being completely unknowable to a human Scar by virtue of Grian being an omniscient god. I will sacrifice myself on your altar if you give me your attention, I don’t need you to love me like I love you nor am I deterred from loving you if you are incapable of love as humans understand it, you are fascinated by me and I am enamored by you but we are beings so drastically and fundamentally different I will likely never understand you. Our understandings of emotion and experience of being is completely alien to the other, and yet we seek each other out. It’s Grian’s godliness juxtaposed by Scar’s humanity BUT,,, what if you flip that.

What if the sheer complete unknowability is more Scar than Grian? This watcher deity who sees all and thrives on chaos meets actual ball of sunshine human and though he can replicate human language, human behavior, inhabit a human form, he cannot understand the subconscious mind of a human because he is not one. Oh what agony to be so much bigger than the ant. Oh to feel that if only your brain could interpret the signals they send to each other then you could understand the love the ant gives you, and perhaps return it. Oh to weep when you step on the ant by accident, bringing it back to life over and over again. Oh to inhabit the ant’s form, mimic every smile, kiss, and gentle touch in a desperate ravaged attempt to be closer to them. Human emotions are like shrimp colors to him.

Even more painful - the scorned deity trope is brutal this way. For his obsession with this human, his desire to understand, his meddling in his life and acceptance of his gross human love, the watchers turn Grian away. Force him to dance around on earth in human skin, force him to watch his precious ant die in his arms over, and over, and over again. You must now inhabit a world between the mortal and the divine, scorned by your kind but different from humans. For Grian to give up his divinity for beings who can’t even understand him. God.

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

I imagine Jason didn't fully really see Dick as his brother, that was more like a distant figure. Nightwing who's a hero and very cool and sometimes tells him he's doing a good job. Like? Augh. Putting this into words

He never truly yearned or hoped for Dick to hang out more, to be his brother, to take him on trips in and out of uniform. Like he thought about it, but it just. Didn't seem the realm of possibility. Dick was cool, he liked him, he would've loved to hang out with him more. But the idea having an actual proper relationship never really fully crossed him. He didn't agonise over Dick not being a brother because it just. Didn't come to mind, it didn't seem a possibility, it just wasn't a thing. Why would he expect Dick to be a brother to him, why would he ever expect Dick to hang out with him more

[merakiui]

ALIEN SCARAMOUCHE WITH OVIPOSITION MERA ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME 😭 I need more, what would he look like, what are his motivations... Omg... Maybe some kidnapping going on...some experiments on humans...him studying how humans reproduce and if his race can use them... Aaaa my mind is going crazy with ideas, please do share yours too! <3

What if he doesn’t have a form of his own (something that sort of ties into canon Scaramouche’s obsession with wanting a heart and a purpose)? And maybe he’s more like a shadowy mass that can take the form of anything so long as he’s encountered said thing (i.e. made contact with it? Or maybe he has to kill the original in order to take its form? Or it’s something like a reflection where if you happen to look at him long enough he’ll have a good enough idea of how to replicate your form from staring and analyzing it.) and since he’s so dedicated to having a form that really fits, that truly feels like him, he’s continued to adapt and evolve as the years pass throughout every planet in the solar system.

Perhaps he does have a few features of his own, but maybe they’re sort of scattered?? Or they aren’t really features his species is known to have? He’s like a mixture of various things he’s observed over the time he’s spent on your planet in an effort to shape himself into something beyond the formless shadow he’s lived as for so long. Like a patchwork copycat composed of so many different parts because he’s desperately trying to understand all of these things. It’s like his version of trying on clothes and new fashion styles. So maybe he has horns or maybe cat ears because he’s seen so many stray cats and they’ve always fascinated him for some unexplainable reason (maybe in order to have these features he’s had to ingest part of the living thing he wants to replicate??? Just something a little extra horrifying for our beloved alien mouchey. <3) And maybe the only thing he has from the one who created him (Ei) is the same piercing stare in a pair of brilliantly colored eyes she graciously bestowed upon him.

Maybe Scaramouche can’t understand human emotion in the usual sense that other humans might, so he assigns flavors to these unusual feelings. When he hurts the things he likes or is interested in (cats, the human he stole his current appearance from (i.e. Kabukimono; let’s pretend they’re two separate individuals hehe), and even other gentle things or creatures who are completely innocent), the taste in his mouth is sour or bitter or so very intolerable. I think over time he hardens himself and learns to live with the foul flavors he often encounters when he attempts to blend in with humans and utterly fails because he can never replicate their emotions as well as he can copy behaviors or appearances. He starts his journey so curious and sweetly innocent, albeit murderous and eerie, and he tries so hard to learn and be good and explore the world with the eyes his mother gifted him and yet he always finds himself hurting. He hates it. It tastes terrible. It feels terrible, and he has never truly felt before. This is new.

When Scaramouche is captured by Dottore, a human scientist who is a little too dedicated to the pursuit of forbidden knowledge, he finally tastes the cruelty of humankind—learns of the lengths they’ll go to in the name of scientific breakthroughs. The researchers run dozens of tests on him. He can’t feel external or internal pain from wounds or injuries; he’s sturdy, birthed from a substance foreign to humans, intended to survive the harshest conditions. But Scaramouche feels pain—the emotional kind. He’s never felt fear; he’s what humans would call an apex predator. He’s strong. He’s never needed to feel fear, and so he doesn’t fear the unknown. He isn’t scared of the sharp tools, of the peculiar creatures he’s shown in hopes that he might replicate them and their features, nor does he fear the trajectory of this new life. The concept of ethical practices means nothing to him even though he’s aware he’s a lab rat, a grotesque curiosity that doctors poke and prod at. He reacts to everything in unique, defensive ways. He impaled a doctor through the throat with a strange shadowy spike. It moved as though it were liquid, yet it struck very solidly, sharply, deadly efficient. Dottore likens its movements and behaviors to that of an octopus’s tentacle; Scaramouche is unsure of this comparison. This is merely a shadow of something he has observed—a reflection. A cheap copy. He has never been original.

You’re the first human he meets who isn’t adorned in sterile white. No lab coat, no gloves, no goggles, no protective gear. Just clothes. Normal clothes. The both of you are separated by indestructible glass, placed in two very white rooms, and you can see one another so clearly. Scaramouche hates the purity of white because he knows that when he’s forced into a white backdrop he’s meant to stain it red. And lately he doesn’t want to break things that are undeserving of it. Perhaps he’s feeling too much. Perhaps he ought to tear these human feelings out and go back to the blank, shadowy slate he once was. How he intends to accomplish that, he has no idea.

He’s uninterested in you at first. You’re a human. He’s seen humans. He interacts with them daily. He’s killed plenty. But you spend nights in that white room and he watches you sleep. He tries to sleep in the same way you do; he has no need for sleep. He regulates his energy differently. He tries to breathe like you. He blinks at the same times you blink—or he comes awfully close. He tries to copy your movements and mannerisms. One night he presses himself to the glass and takes your form and watches you, counting every rise and fall of your chest as you lie so comfortably on the very uncomfortable cot. With hands that mirror yours, he pokes at these human features. He fits one hand in the other and pretends he’s holding your actual hand. There is no warmth, though. Humans are warm; Scaramouche is not. He’s frigid. His home planet is gloomy and cold and desolate. He thinks humans are lucky for cyclical days—for being in close proximity to the sun. There is no sunshine where he hails from. He likes the way the sun feels on him. It used to burn terribly when he first arrived on this planet. Now it’s like a hug—a hug that still singes, but a hug nonetheless. He’s never known what a hug is, but he thinks this is what it must feel like—like the burning warmth of a sun.

Scaramouche feels true, raw, animalistic, paralyzing fear when you’re taken out of the room after two weeks and replaced with a new human. You’re gone. Replaced. Are you dead? Did he kill you? Did he stare too long? He’s distraught, overcome with a horrifying emotion that has him curled and trembling in the corner of his white room (a cage if he’s ever known one). Why aren’t you here? And why is he so…restless? He can’t call it fear because he doesn’t know that word. But oh he’s scared. He’s so scared. You were the first human to smile at him, to put your hand on the glass where his rested, to sit close to the glass and eat meals alongside him. You were like the stray cats he’s interacted with: kind, soft, gentle, sweet. He’s so scared he loses the ability to remain in his human skin, and he practically melts into a shadow, clinging to the corner like glue or slime. He’s empty and alone. It tastes terrible. It feels terrible.

The humans that follow are terrified of him. Either that or they’re disgusted, baffled, cautious. He hates every one of them, so much so that he’s tried to break through the glass numerous times to dispose of them. Weeks pass; he’s forgetting your features. There are no mirrors here, so he must rely on the reflections shown in the glass. Some days he thinks he looks just like you; other days he’s certain he’s a monstrosity—a sloppily stitched version of you. The you he saw did not have pointed fangs or curling horns. He hates his reflection because it isn’t you. Most importantly, he hates that the humans he’s forced to look at are protected by this thick layer of glass. If it wasn’t so indestructible, he’d tear through every human nuisance until he reaches you.

Scaramouche is not sure how many months pass, but you return. And when you do the fear ebbs away. He feels…happy? Is that the right term? He’s pleased to see you, and for the first time in a while he returns to his human appearance—to the one he took from a young man many centuries ago. You’re back. You’re here. He’s so happy. He detaches himself from his corner and he tries to smile in the way you do. And, though it’s awkward and strange and sharp-toothed, you smile right back.

Dottore decides then that you are to be the next subject in this experiment. He’s observed Scaramouche’s reactions to you and compared them to reactions to the other humans and found that you are the best suited to this role. If anything, the alien couldn’t have picked a better specimen to adore. You’re helpless and so naïve. You need the money; it’s why you allowed yourself to live in that room for a few weeks. You were paid handsomely for it. He’ll pay you beyond handsomely if you agree to what’s next. And, really, when you’re in between a predator’s jaws do you really have much of a choice?

Scaramouche needs a human match, and the scientists need to study more than just the social biology of an alien. They promise you he won’t hurt you, and if he does it’s all right. They’re kind enough to respect the wishes of the dead. You must let Dottore know if you’d prefer a burial or a cremation. There’s nothing special in this distinction; it’s just a precautionary measure. You’ll agree to participate in this experiment whether or not you want to.

Your new home is the white room that faces Scaramouche, and after some more time and observations to ensure you won’t be killed the moment you step foot in his space the glass barrier will be lifted. Dottore wonders how Scaramouche’s kind mates and reproduces.

There’s only one way to find out.

[jerys]

saw someone say 'wish he'd tried a little harder' under harry's post.................what if i started shooting people in the head

[rigginsstreet]

hes just showing affection everyone calm down

[ruegarding]

imagine meeting someone and only seeing them in their worst moments. and instead of resenting them, instead of thinking less of them, you find only their best qualities. that's bianca, nico, and percy.

[naivety]

very weird to frame your abuse apologia as being aware that the writers intended to illustrate a mutually harmful dynamic and not an abusive one. when the writers in question also wrote the line 'once you put it out there, they [the audience] decide what it is' because nothing you ever create has any innate definition. when the writers in question decided to racebend major characters and then showcase them being harmed by white or nonblack characters in a repeatedly racialized pattern when they Did Not Have To Do That and then genuinely or disingenuously decide to dialogue about their directly or indirectly illustrated racialized dynamic of intimate partner violence within and outside the narrative. like to be quite honest it does not matter what they intended because this is what they made and this is how it Looks to a notably large amount of people. who just happen to be interpreting it wrong? according to what metric? the very metric they say Doesn't Work in their own fictional creation? ok

[scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde]

NAH NO ABSOLUTELY NOT TELL MEEE TEEEELLLLL MEEEEEEE WHY I WAS PEACEFULLY SCROLLING TIKTOK AND I SEE ONE COMMENT SECTION FLOOODEEDDD WITH SHIT LIKE "astoria greengrass hate club lol" "astoria haters ⬇️⬇️⬇️" "I can't stand astoria" WHAAATTT WHAT THE FUUCCKK WHAT ARE YOU EVEN ACTUALLY FUCKING TALKING ABOUY WHTA THE VBGAGSJSLW I CANNOT EVEN COMPREHEND WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE ON ABOUT IM GONNA FUCKINGFHFHFJFUFKM WHAT DO YOU EVEN MEEAAANN SHUT THE FYCK UPP OH MY GOD WHAT WHAT DID SHE EVER DO?????

anywayz number one astoria greengrass defender love her so much I will skin your whole body with my teeth if you try and fuck with her that is MY GIRL <3<3<3

[sammygender]

i just rewatched the rapture ohhhhh my god. such a good episode the jimmy stuff is actually fucking horrifying somehow even worse remembering claire grows up to be a hunter. then dean and bobby at the end locking sam in the panic room oh i hope they suffer. forever. he shouldve never spoken to their asses again

[mihai-florescu]

No mc akira hate will be permitted here once the anime comes out, capiche?