#mar does human things
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navigatorwrongway · 1 year ago
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finally got nice enough to hang out with boom on the balcony!
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qqueenofhades · 2 years ago
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Also, I am watching Good Night Oppy (the documentary about the mission of the Mars rover Opportunity) because apparently I want to Cry. And aside from the NASA crew who worked on the project all lovingly referring to Opportunity and its sister Spirit as "she" and talking about how much the whole project meant to them, the lead engineer on the Spirit program, when talking about the end of Spirit's mission, just gently goes "I guess she was tired too, after all the work she had done" and just. Hang on. Hang on I need a second
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rocaillefox · 2 years ago
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oh yknow i think a very fun character would be like. one who doesnt search out revenge but will absolutely take it if given the opportunity. like its no skin off their back if they never get the chance to take revenge/fulfill a grudge, thats not their goal, but its not out of mercy or kindness, just a pragmatic 'i wont let this potential revenge destroy me in the process' approach to it. might have to include them as an oc in something 🤔
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cryptotheism · 2 months ago
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What does "As Above, So Below" really mean? What does it look like?
It means the earth mirrors the heavens. The world is shadows of shadows of thoughts in the mind of god.
Broadly it refers to the doctrine of signatures. The medieval idea that the physical shape of things gives a clue as to nature of things. If an herb looks like a human eye, it can be used to make medicine for the human eye. If it looks like a liver, you can make liver medicine out of it.
This extends even further. Iron is hard and useful because those are things associated with the planet mars. Therefore, iron is ruled by the planet mars, and gets its properties from the influence of the planet mars. Additionally, drawing symbols associated with mars can imbue martian properties onto whatever you draw the symbols on.
The sun is brilliant and golden and shiny, and because of this, it's metal gold is also brilliant and golden and shiny. As above, so below.
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deadsetobsessions · 1 year ago
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Ghost King Phantom was an odd addition to the League. J’onn was often the last to find others odd but from the get-go, Phantom was the only quiet spot he’d have in his telepathic field. At first, it was off putting as most of the people that slipped beyond the reach of his immediate field tended to be villains and the like. But as Phantom remained in the Justice League, J’onn had come to learn to appreciate the calm spot in the turbulent sea of his friends’ and coworkers’ thoughts.
“You have taken to me faster than the others. Why is that?”
Phantom hummed purringly, another peculiar sound that J’onn had yet to see any of his human or alien heroes recreate with any success. They sat at their usual spot, face facing the cosmos and backs guarded by their friends. Plus, J’onn and Phantom could look directly into the sun without painfully loosing their sight.
“I guess I’ve always been fond of the stars. Of space, and everything in it. What about you? Why did we become friends so fast?”
J’onn shook his head, a human motion he’d learned a long time ago to imitate. “No, we became slower friends than most, as my telepathic abilities allow for easier communication and understanding of one another’s motives. With the exception of Batman but I have found he is often the exception to most expectations.”
“That checks out,” King Phantom laughed. “Well, I’m glad we became friends. It’s very cool to meet a Martian. Space is one of my Obsessions, you see.”
J’onn nodded. “I see. I am sorry that I am the only Martian you will meet.”
“You are?”
J’onn nodded again, slower. Sadder. His facial muscles, in this form, does not imitate human patterns well and he knew that most people could not pick out his emotions without his verbal expression.
Intuition tells J’onn that Phantom knew regardless.
“Would you mind telling me what happened?” His voice is gentle, the emotions that Phantom pushes at him are gentle and questing, but not demanding. It has been a long time since anyone has asked him of memories he clung to. And so, J’onn J’onzz speaks in the way that was natural to him, the way his people communicated.
With his mental voice flowing into Phantom’s head, J’onn tells him of the wonders that used to be his home. He provided images and sounds of how his home shone as the sun rose, how the shadows that fell when the sun dipped beneath the horizon felt as comforting as a Martian’s first telepathic cradle. He tells Phantom of his twin brother, grief and agony entwined in the memories of someone he had loved. He spoke of his wife and their daughter, and their cozy home on the windswept plains of Mars.
King Phantom sat still with him as the Watch-Tower moved along, around a king and his friend who was recounting the stagnant grief of his past.
J’onn tells him of the virus, borne of his twin’s hatred, and how he watched everything around him burn. How he had desperately tried to prevent his wife and daughter from using their telepathic abilities. He spoke of his failures. He wove together a tapestry of insanity and grief, built upon the burning bodies of his wife and their beloved daughter. He tells Phantom how the Mars now was just ashes and dust of his former home. How he could not look upon the planet and not see the shades of his wife and daughter and parents and friends, walking upon a barren planet that no longer held anything familiar to the last Martian.
Phantom had hummed again, a soothing rumble. Sadness dripped from the edges of his consciousness.
“If it was not for the Doctor, I would be dead and shattered.” J’onn spoke for the first time in three hours. “It is… less painful to live. I have purpose.”
“I am glad that you are not either of those things.” Phantom stood. “Come with me. I have to show you something.”
J’onn trusted Phantom, and thus followed the king into the glowing green portal.
They flew past many doors, Phantom often glancing at him before shaking his head and changing directions.
They stopped at a door that felt familiar. J’onn knew it from somewhere.
“Go ahead, open the door. But know that you can’t stay long. You don’t belong to this realm quite yet. Not for quite a while.” Phantom moves, hand gesturing towards the door without a knob.
“How..?”
“How else? You have telekinesis, don’t you?”
J’onn blinked. Right. He opened the door and- oh.
The door warped with the screaming storm of grief and love and oh-how-I’ve-missed-you that J’onn unleashed.
Because there in front of him were M’yri’ah and K’hym, his wife and daughter.
The door was an imitation of his home, back when he had not known true loss.
“Impossible,” he stumbled back.
“You are in the realm of the dead. You didn’t think the title of the Ghost King was for fun, did you, J’onn?” Phantom smiled and- a move J’onn would definitely engage in petty payback for, later after he’d gotten over the shock- pushed him flying right into the room.
M’yri’ah and K’hym cradled him with telepathic swirls of love and husband!-dad!-love-love-love-safe!
And J’onn shuddered and gathered the his world in his arms to say goodbye.
——
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evilminji · 1 year ago
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Been Watching Weird Fruit Explorer(?)... and I just...
W-Who let Bored Danny have BooTube?
Sorry, YOU-Tube. He has TWO Apps now. BooTube is bigger. Way more random, yet... somehow more niche? Meh. It's what happens when you get billions of billions of people who all have their own Obsessions to rant over, on a site.
Ember's channel is pretty lit, tho, ngl.
He stopped using YOU-Tube almost overnight. Too many ads, weird algorithmic pushiness. No thanks. It was too small and too "trying to take my money". You know?
Buuuuut? See.... TUCKER is the Tech guy.
Coding and that sort of stuff. HE does hands on work. You want a toaster? He can MAKE you a toaster! With LAZERS! Runs off The Goo! But a program? Eeeeeeeh? Hit it with hammer maybe? Monkey make fire? Hit with stick? Blergh.
Yeah, he can SORTA push through.
But he suuuucks.
And like... he had a headache, okay? His project had just, quiet literally, exploded in his face. So when he looked at his phone? All the apps were blobs. He clicked the one that LOOKED kinda right. Shoved his arm in his phone and brute forced a channel set up.
He figured he could ramble about Space!
It's not like he cared is anyone LISTENS or not! It's a "for him" thing, you know? Like a diary. But more... putting on a ☆~show~☆?
So he rambles from the floor of his Lair's Lab, crashs and wails in the distance, green sky occasionally visible as he lazily floats by windows. Dropping... juuuust past human knowledge understanding of Space. Talking like he's STUDYING somewhere. Referencing PAPERS no human will ever be able to find.
But a few they WILL.
Some of which, are currently? Only half written.
But then? Oh YEAH... he should eat! You know... Sam keeps bringing him fruits and veggies and stuff from her internship at that Botanical Lair. Stuff never seen before of Earth. Or hasn't been seen in centuries.
Again, like, a FEW that? Randomly? Have???
He picks up something sharply purple, bright orange insides. Crisp crunch. He makes a face. And starts to ramble about it, distracted from Space. "Weirdly mushroom-y" he notes. "Kinda bubblegum sweet? But like... CHEAP bubblegum. Like it hits you all at once and is kinda chemically. But it disappears real fast? Huh. Spicy too..."
It's the first video on the Playlist. One of hundreds. Two of the green Lanterns RECONIZE that fruit ad HIGHLY toxic to humans, can't recognize what planet they're seeing. Or how this alien teen got himself on YouTube.
He seems... unaware of how incredibly famous he's become.
But his strange techno Pharoah friend has not. HE is both perfectly aware and apparently amused. Has taken to feeding him rare and hazardous flora and fauna, to see if it tastes good.
....there have been an alarming number of plants from dead planets.
And the comments the kid makes? Alarming as hell.
Sam's just pleased everybody's getting their greens. Danny's glad him n tuck get to hang and do "try weird foods and fuck around, bro time". They've made lazers! Talked about stuff! Debated why Martian Manhunter is THE superior Justice League member.
Danny understands. Wonder Woman is a BAMF. But he's biased, Tucker. He doesn't CARE if she has a sword and flowy, impressive locks! Shape-shifting telepath! From MARS!!! *imaginary mic drop*
And Tucker? Is conquering the YouTube scene with this charming, weird, relatable young alien. Who rambles about Space, debates nerd stuff, eats weird plants and describes them, and makes sci-fi technology! Theme? WHAT THEME? Phantom is a weird channel, man. You never know what you'll find!
And no one can get rid of it.
Believe them, governments have TRIED. Censorship? Not possible. Not without removing the whole SITE.
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northopalshore · 4 months ago
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♱ Mars in the ♱
Union persona chart
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Mars in the Union (1585) persona chart tells you how you will pursue your significant other when you first meet. Even if one party shows more effort into the initial courting, it's still important to note that both need to show their interests and effort into forming a relationship as well (or it wouldn't be a relationship!) That is what we'll be looking at in this post. Please check your UPC Mars sign, house & degree.
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Foreign spouse indicators | Union predictions | Attractive Spouse Indicators
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Here are a few things to note before we get into it;
The 0° degree bares no significant meaning on its own but it does enhances (draws more attention to) whatever sign it's in or aspects that it makes.
Retrograde in this scenario can make one more reluctant to make a move, or you may second guess your efforts often, in some cases it may seem like you are avoidant at first or many things are distracting you from pursuing them
Conjuncting Sun you will do a lot to showcase your personality & best traits to them (trying to impress them with how cool you are ). Persistence is also a common theme with you.
Conjuncting Mercury a lot of your efforts may be shown online i.e texting, face time
Conjuncting Moon there may be a lot of emotional back & forth on your end, like emotional crash outs at times or overwhelming feelings, feeling divided
Square Union asteroid meeting up with them may be difficult & may require special (more) effort on your part.
It's not how your spouse will pursue you, but how you will pursue your spouse.
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♱ Aries (°1,°13,°25) & The 1st House
With this placement, you are most likely the more active pursuer in this relationship. Being the one to actually go by "Don't chase, attack" (lmaoo). You can crave their attention, and always have a way to intercept yourself into their lives or plans. Tagging along to trips or something. Your whole body will show that you are interested. Trouble comes from personal problems, time management, acting without consent or planning (doing what you want instead of what your partner may want), rivalry, short temper, assuming things according to your desires, lack of patience, selfishness and ignorance.
♱ Taurus (°2,°14,°26) & The 2nd House
Okay, money is definitely something you will be using to get closer to them. You could spend money on them or to get to them (especially if they live away from you), you'll be spending money on your own expenses just to be closer to them for example. Frequenting a place they work (as a customer). Buying them gifts, making sure you look good and attractive when you're going to see them; you want your makeup or outfit to look perfect every time. Looking like a catch to get them to want you more (lol). Arguments or hardships on your end come from money (or a lack of money), stubbornness, selfishness & a sense of responsibility.
note: similar effect if aspecting venus
♱ Gemini (°3,°15,°27) & The 3rd House
Sharing your thoughts, starting conversations, non-stop talking, exploring new topics and asking what they think about it, sharing jokes & memes, asking for their opinion it's like every time you think of something randomly in the day, you'll talk about it with your partner later. This placement makes you especially curious about them; like you want to know what they're made of. You may ask them a lot of questions too or tell them a lot of things they might not know about to make you seem smart lol. Fights or frustrations stem from miscommunication, gossip, language barriers and mistrust or suspicion.
note: similar effect if aspecting mercury
♱ Cancer (°4,°16,°28) & The 4th House
Being more.. submissive in a way? Here, you will be showing them how vulnerable and flawed i.e human you are. You may allow them have some sort of personal view into your life and let them help you or guide you (letting down your walls for them). Showing them a more relaxed and needy part of yourself. You may start to have disagreements or arguments when your emotions go haywire or when you (both) let your personal feelings get the best of you i.e pettiness, emotional attachments, clinginess.
note: similar effect if aspecting moon
♱ Leo (°5,°17,°29) & The 5th House
You could rely on a lot mutual attraction and wild fun when pursuing your partner romantically. A love for the arts and physical thrills; you'll want you partner to associate you with a good time. Seggs. There could be a lot of sex aha, Ya Nasty. (Though it's not completely limited to that sort of fun, there is a natural inclination to be drawn into physical pleasure for the sake of it). If you do argue, it's likely about the things you find enjoyable, children & inflated egos.
note: similar effect if aspecting jupiter
♱ Virgo (°6,°18) & The 6th House
You guessed it. They'll be part of your routine. You may try to find ways to have them in your daily schedule, and really make an effort to get closer to them; keeping promises to meet, making plans. However, with Virgo I find that you are more cautious when pursuing your partner. You will overthink, and be more observant. You might stalk their socials as well lol. Only because you are serious about pursuing something with them. You'll show a lot of effort, and if they show it first you will make sure that it's reciprocated. You reassure your partner, and that's usually what they notice most about you when "pursuing" them! If arguments occur, they will usually be centered around your work i.e having no time to be with them, conflicting schedules.
note: similar effect if aspecting saturn
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♱ Libra (°7,°19) & The 7th House
You will charm your partner with your down to earth, high morality, well mannerisms, fairness and poised argumentative qualities. You will always make sure you look good around them, and may keep a certain look (*cough Flyn Rider-esque) that you are sure will knock them straight outta the park. You may also prefer to take them out on traditionally aesthetic but also thought provoking dates often ; movies, museum & galleries. The key for you is debating. What you may argue (or what causes tension) comes from the topic of your debates itself, work or professionalism or marriage & commitment (the idea of it).
note: similar effect if aspecting Venus
♱ Scorpio (°8,°20) & The 8th House
You might be taking a lot of risks for them, or doing something you aren't supposed to just to get closer to your (FS/this ) partner. Illicit affairs, secret rendezvous, disobedience ( going against someone's wishes to be with them) or even meeting up somewhere without telling anyone often. Something about it is quite scandalous. If fights occur, it will be related to jealousy, exes, trauma & petty rivalry (either between the both of you or with someone else).
note: similar effect if aspecting pluto
♱ Sagittarius (°9,°21) & The 9th House
In order to woo your partner, you will likely be taking them out to interesting places that are fun, spontaneous and are able to showcase your intelligence, optimism and reliability. You'll likely be doing a lot to impress them with your broad mindset and talents. You'll want to show your partner that you are both a do-er & a thinker. Perhaps you have many capable qualities that you wish to share with them to make 'em like you more. In terms of arguments that you may face or obstacles it's likely going to be related to your studies, language, passport, citizenship or some sort of seniority (one being older or of a higher status than the other).
note: similar effect if aspecting mercury
♱ Capricorn (°10,°22) & The 10th House
As a means to keep your partners attention on you, you may show them how reliable, stable and useful you are. You could show them a lot of (new) things or take the lead / control when you get together; being the person they can rely on. You could do things for them, purchase things for them or be the one to help them make decisions . Your career, father, control issues or public image may cause friction in your relationship and you may argue or feel reluctant due to it.
note: similar effect if aspecting saturn
♱ Aquarius (°11,°23) & The 11th House
You'll be letting them into your social circle, getting to know their friends and also hanging out with them. Showing them something new. You believe the way to their heart is to know them as a person. You'll enjoy a lot of interesting conversations, calling them, texting them and just hanging out. You'll show them how different you are compared to the people they've dated before for example. Showing them how smart, quirky, fun & genuine you can be. Arguments stem from selfishness, freedom, time spent with friends, erratic feelings, comparison, lack of compassion & disingenuousness.
note: similar effect if aspecting uranus
♱ Pisces (°12,°24) & The 12th House
You might travel to your partner a lot, being the one to come to them or invite them over to you. I find that with this placement, you will do a lot just to be able to be around them or closer to them; sacrificing anything that needs to be sacrificed i.e money, time, energy (usually energy). You'll try your best with this placement. In a way, you want to appear "cool" to them, but on a slower pace compared to Leo. Arguments, frustrations come from misunderstandings, illusions, fears, something being hidden from you, long distance, being ignored or left on read.
note: similar effect if aspecting neptune
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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months ago
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Die with a Smile
For @anonymous-existences who asked for a "Die with a Smile" by Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga using Spirt Halloween ship. Hope you like it!
Danny remembers being alive, but it was a distant memory as if he had woken from a wonderful dream. He could recall no scents or tastes from his time being flesh and bone, but he remembered sights and sometimes, if he was lucky a few sounds.
The sound of his sister singing. His father's laughter. His mother's humming. His best friend's fingers tap on his keyboard. His other best friend's plants when the water of her watering can fell over their leaves.
Danny held all the sounds dear to his heart, even if he could not remember their names or voices. Just their faces, smiles, and the warmth in their eyes before the car accident. Danny had been a Halfa from the age of fourteen, but twenty years later, he had died in a collision caused by a drunk driver, turning into a complete ghost.
Like all his previous adversaries, Danny could no longer return to the human world willy-nilly. He had reformed after he died in the Zone, becoming one of its citizens, anchored to the Realms between Death and Life.
He needed a gateway made by a mortal who willingly invited him through. All natural portals were nice, but it was a one-way. Anyone could pass through them to the Realms, not vice versa.
His parents had unknowingly created an open invitation when they stabilized their portal, allowing ghosts to run a rampage in the city. Danny doesn't remember why they had made it, but he wishes it was still there so he could see them again.
So that he could feel the deep love so evident in the glimpses and flashes of their faces that ran through his mind. He couldn't find his way back, so he spent years looking. He was one of the few ghosts that had no anchored haunt. Danny spends all eternity flying through the Realms in search of the love that he had once felt.
He lost count of how long ago that was. But along the way, he picked up other various wonders.
A bag that opens to his pocket of cosmos is flung over his shoulder. A long cloak that protected him from the scorching heat, freezing blizzards, howling winds, and drowning rain. A glimmering book that recorded his adventures in the consultations. And many new friends who have been in the Realms for so long they had developed their own culture and given birth to generations that knew nothing of the mortal realm.
Danny's ghost's name had also faded from his mind, knowing he used to answer something when he was fourteen. He is grateful that his birth name stays with him, even if he does not know his surname.
He now went as the Wander. Always searching for something he did not know if he could hold, let alone own. Wander grew in power, for his death had brought along all the ectoplasm of his Halfa days, and while his travels were relatively peaceful, there were times he needed to fight his way through.
He has never been defeated.
That was Danny's experience now. Wander, find adventure, find friends, find new incredible sights, become saddened that the new things didn't match the love he set on a pedestal, and wander again.
Over and over. Never lingering for too long. Never belonging.
Just lost in the endless void of the Realms.
Then, Danny had run into him.
A human had fallen through a portal caused by unnatural means. It was due to being attacked by a monstrous tyrant that was threatening his world. Omega Beam radiation polluted the portal, and for a second, Danny had thought he had finally found a stable way into the human world.
But alas, when he approached it, an invisible force kept him from leaving the Realms. Its constant flickering and electrical crackles mocked him, even if the scene behind the portal depicted a broken world.
Danny wanted nothing more than to fly through the human world, feel all those fantastic emotions, and live again. He pushed and pushed against the force field; however, there was no open invitation. He could not pass through the portal.
The human that fell after being pushed by the sudden explosion could. Danny had caught him and nursed him back to health, and when he awakened, he was struck dumb by those intense, intelligent eyes.
Batman was the name the human gave him, and for a few months, that was what Danny called him. The way to his home, an Earth called Gotham, had closed as soon as the omega beams had vanished. Batman was beside himself, attempting to find another portal.
As the man was living without means of flight between islands, Danny offered to take him to a few natural portals. He warned him that even if he could enter said portals, there was no guarantee he would be back when he vanished.
Portals bend time and space. They may appear in the same spot, but it was also a gamble of when that would be. Batman had no care, taking Danny's offer, and the two went off on a new adventure.
The broken pieces of an endless city was the connection between the Realms and Batman's Gotham. It took some time before Batman admitted that the city they traveled through - as, for some reason, the city bounds stopped Danny's flight - was his beloved city. It was an exact duplicated, over and over again as time moved on in the mortal world; this one copied every new development without removing the old one.
It merely expanded right next to the old building. The natural portals across the range were unstable, lasting only a few seconds before Batman was forced to throw himself back into the Realm or he got stuck at the wrong time.
Batman left a clue at every stop the portal gave him, claiming one of his children would notice and help find a way to bring him home. Danny wasn't so sure, but if the human found comfort in the thought, he would not be the one to burst his bubble.
As for Danny, the familiar emptiness that came with the urge to move on never showed itself. He found comfort in the footsteps of Batman. He found glee in the laughter around the small fires they make in the destroyed streets, void of any color.
Danny had forgotten most colors, so used to the Grey's, blacks, whites and dark purples of the Realms but the way Batman spoke of it made him think back to the reds blues yellows and greens he had not realized he missed.
Slowly, his journal filled itself with nothing but the mortal he had found.
Batman survived on what little they could find in the broken streets of his colorless home. He seemed disgruntled by the silence of the repeating streets, the obvious signs of violence that never quite healed in his city.
After a while, Danny realized he felt whole again. As if a part of his soul had been returned. Batman did not bring him back to life, but he made him feel alive.
Danny informed him it meant the land was cursed, but that only earned him a cold glare and a sharp bite of beef jerky from a gas station with its window smashed in. Their travels continued, with Danny dreaming of the five sounds he could recall of his loved ones- he did not need food anymore as a ghost, but he did need sleep. His core required recharge- realizing a new sound had been added.
The sound of Batman's soft taps as he marched on, searching for a way home.
Danny created a new constellation for him. He named it the Lost Vengence. It seemed right, even if Batman rarely spoke.
A few months of them together, Batman had wandered into an air that exploded with green grass. He grasped for his belt, but whatever he was searching for wasn't there, and he fell to his knees screaming.
Danny, who hadn't breathed it in, had rushed him over to a crumbled hospital, strapping the human down and panicking over his state. He was no doctor, but if he left Batman alone to get help, leaving the area that didn't allow him to fly would take far too long, and Batman would die.
Already, his heart was beating too fast for a human. Danny had ripped off his strange mask, trying to get him out of the clothes covered in the green goo, but it didn't do much. All that was left was a human- a handsome human- screaming his head off.
Eventually, Danny realized that his journal may have the answer. He could not always remember what he recorded, but if he asked it to, it would pull up records of adventures he may have forgotten.
There was a method of passing on his healing that Frostbite once shared with him long before his death. He pressed his hands over Batman's chest, not with his palms but with his soul, and prayed the human would accept it.
A few minutes later, Danny's ectoplasm had sunk through the skin and cleaned out the effects of the strange grass. Batman slumped against the metal table, breathing heavily and sweating profoundly, but he stared up at Danny as if he were bestowing an angel.
Since ectoplasm was purely emotional, no words had to be shared between them to know Danny had wanted to save him more than anything. Had felt the way Batman made him feel complete.
"My name is Bruce Wayne," Batman had told him later that night while the pair looked through a mall that seemed to have been flooded. The water splashed against their mid-calfs, slowly picking their way through the new clothes that Bruce could wear.
His soft smile filled up to his core, and neither mentioned the way the distance between them closed or the fingers that laced together,but Danny knew he had found it.
What he had been searching for all these years.
Bruce would sometimes stop them in the nicer parts of his city- places that merely went out of business instead of being broken down- and treat him to the few things he had forgotten of the human world.
An ice cream parlor had been stripped clean, but the owners had left one fringe with three tubs of ice cream. As time was frozen, it was good to eat, and Danny realized that while he did not need food, he did enjoy it. Bruce was sensitive to the weather that changed every few hundred miles.
In the parts with ice and snow, he curled up on Danny's chest, protected by the cloak that expanded to cover them. In the fires, he was carried on Danny's back, the fabric of the cloak protecting him from burning while Danny's hair flickers snowflakes for him to breathe.
Other times, he merely liked holding hands because he, too, felt whole with Danny.
Then they came upon a part of town that belonged to Bruce's third youngest son. He called it the Nest, and a date and time was carved on the wall. His son had found a way to stabilize a portal, and he planned to pull Bruce back home.
The boy thought Bruce was trapped in the past, but his rescue would still work. Bruce could finally return to the humans.
He understood. Danny had lived his life. Now, it was time for Bruce to finish his.
"Will you go? Would you leave me?" Danny knew the answer to his questions the second he looked into Bruce's eyes. It cracked something deep inside, but he was not angry or feeling betrayed.
"I'm sorry," Bruce whispers, tracing his hand on the curve of Danny's cheek. The ghost leans on it, wishing, not for the first time that he had the sensation of touch again. He only gets brief impressions of something against him, but Danny can not feel the texture of Bruce's clauses.
The warmth of his skin.
"Don't be. This was the best part of my existence in a long time. You were everything that I had forgotten about love."
He knew humans were warm. He remembers a tiny moment when his sister's fingers in his hair comforted him.
But he could not remember what their warmth felt like.
Bruce's face crumbled before it softened. "I'm not gone yet. We have a few hours."
"Just three," Danny whispered, looking at the numbers on Bruce's watch. He had set a countdown to when Tim would activate the machine- the portal- that only called Bruce home. Since the boy did not know it wasn't a time issue but a different reality, he had unintentionally made it with only Bruce in mind.
The force keeping all ghosts like Danny in the Realms wouldn't let him enter.
"I know how I want to spend them." Bruce found a record player broken in the movie theater beside his son's shining new hideout. Apparently, it was the one that had been abandoned in Bruce's youth.
It played a lovely old, slow dance from the forties that echoed through the dusted room, surrounding them in its soft, wistful melody. Bruce guided Danny to the center of the stage- the only place not covered in dust or supplies- and carefully bent him into an elegant dip.
At that moment, Danny and Bruce were all that existed in the broken-ended city of Gotham's past.
A smile blooms on Danny's face, twirling around the man who caught him and guided him, saying without words how much he adored Danny. The unsaid words between them meant nothing in the face of their world ending, but their smiles made up for it.
Danny's book had fallen open at one point, his collected stars and cosmos flying out to surround the pair as they swayed and slowly danced. He felt the thumping of Bruce's heart against his chest, pressing closer to record the feeling in his core and soul.
Song after song. Step, spin, sway, dip, intelligent eyes that watched him with the same amount of wishful longing and bright, loving smile.
"I could die again," Danny told him, hands on Bruce's shoulders and the human hands on his hip.
"I am," Bruce whispered back as his clock started beeping. They had ten seconds left. "I want you to remember me with a smile."
"Of course." Danny leaned back only far enough that when he pushed his face against Bruce's, their lips sealed in a burst of incredible, indescribable sensations. All at once, it's like sounds, feelings, tastes, and sights rush back at him, making him feel as if life was being breathed back into him, only for it to vanish as Bruce's body slowly fades away.
He leans back after his hands pass through Bruce's body, no longer anchored enough in the Realms to hold, and gives him the brightest smile he can muster. Neither mentions the tears rolling down their faces as he whispers.
"The party is over, and our time on this Earth is through, but I'll love you. For all eternity. I always do when I think of those who are still alive." Danny watches him fade away in soft, gentle sparks that he would later gather and shift into stardust.
He places them in Gotham's skies so Bruce can have a tiny part of him, even though he cannot see it. Danny turns around and marches back towards the realms.
The Wander must find a new purpose.
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navigatorwrongway · 1 year ago
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The genre of paleodocumentary – documentaries focusing on extinct ancient life – reemerged with Apple TV’s Prehistoric Planet in 2023. It draws heavily on traditional nature documentaries, tying together disparate segments with a common theme, and echoing the prestige of productions like Planet Earth, The Hunt, and The Blue Planet with renowned presenter Sir David Attenborough. This pedigree situates Prehistoric Planet as successor to the last landmark paleodocumentary series, the BBC’s wildly successful Walking With Dinosaurs. Released in 1999, the series set a standard that has scarcely been met since. Two and a half decades later, Prehistoric Planet might represent a renaissance, apart from one glaring flaw that undermines the project’s educational value.
Where most wildlife documentaries utilize on-location filming and stock footage, paleomedia by nature cannot rely on actual footage. Instead, a combination of practical effect modeling and computer-generated imagery (CGI) is used to depict extinct creatures. As this is prohibitively expensive, material often gets reused long past its expiration date. One clip from Walking With Dinosaurs has featured in at least three ‘talking head’ style documentaries, as recently as 2016.
Cross-pollination between documentaries is common in other respects. Many of Prehistoric Planet’s segments are extrapolated from documentary footage of modern animals, and as such are largely speculative in their presented behavior and physical appearance (neither of which fossilize well). While its visual material is a new breath of life for the genre, the copycat elements and influence of extant wildlife are such that the onscreen byline, ‘Planet Earth, 66 million years ago,’ might more accurately be, ‘Planet Earth, 66 million years ago.’
This may actually be beneficial; although derivative, the format is familiar and effectively demonstrates extinct creatures’ probable complexity and versatility. Documentaries are designed for accessibility — they speak to a layman’s understanding, encourage development of a deeper interest, and double as entertainment — even as they counter misinformation stemming from other forms of entertainment. Alongside the equivalent Tyrannosaurus rex, Velociraptor-the-movie-monster dominates the public consciousness, having featured as a primary plot element in no fewer than six massively popular entertainment productions. Prehistoric Planet aims to correct resulting misconceptions, drawing a distinction between Velociraptor, animal, and Velociraptor, movie monster, in the familiar format of a nature documentary.
Considering that the goal of any documentary is to distill dense, difficult-to-digest information into the need-to-know, science communicators shoulder an important responsibility, because they serve as an educational touchstone. Jaques Cousteau was the educational touchstone for oceanography just as Carl Sagan was the touchstone for an entire era of astrophysics and Stephen Hawking the touchstone for theoretical physics. For seventy years, David Attenborough has been the touchstone for wildlife and ecology.
Those who take up that role are obligated to present their data with care. Data may be disproven or incomplete, but to encapsulate 25 years of paleontological advancement, given those limitations you need to get the science right — and in one critical respect, Prehistoric Planet drops the ball.
The final episode of Prehistoric Planet’s second season features Pectinodon and Styginetta. Attenborough’s narration states that every year, “Styginetta, a primitive relative of modern ducks, stop here on their travels. And they’re not alone; dinosaurs are here, too.” The implication that Styginetta are not dinosaurs in their own right misrepresents the science, and might have been amended with the addition of a single word: "other dinosaurs are here, too." If the writers, editors, researchers, producers, and fact checkers uniformly didn’t catch this, Attenborough should have; he has (and is) the authority, having been a titan of wildlife presentation since before the advent of color television. He should have changed the script.
This neglect of the scientific consensus is disconcerting, the equivalent of the next Planet Earth including a line in reference to ‘whales, and other fish…’ Not all dinosaurs were wiped out by the asteroid impact; modern-day birds, it has been established, are the dinosaurs that survived. Alongside the extinct dinosaurs, Prehistoric Planet features their contemporaries, the flying pterosaurs and marine reptiles such as mosasaurs and plesiosaurs, which were wiped out and have no surviving lineages. Lacking living examples to draw upon, Prehistoric Planet embraces speculative potential to present these extinct creatures as interesting — but educational media cannot sacrifice accuracy for entertainment. Styginetta are recognizable as birds, having the expected beaks, feathers, and flight-capable wings. Notably, Pictinodon are also feathered, and yet this correlation is never directly addressed – another missed opportunity. Both look photorealistic, move energetically, and read as alive in a way that has only been made possible in recent years, thanks in part to advances in CGI revolutionized by the production of Jurassic Park.
In the post-Jurassic Park era, it is impossible to consider early paleomedia (e.g., the work of Ray Harryhousen) as plausible. Clunky stop motion using puppets or clay, charming as it is, cannot be mistaken for reality. A photorealistic degree of visual acuity is possible with CGI, but this development predicates an ethical responsibility to avoid blurring the lines of truth. Even though (one hopes) nobody actually believes there was a camera running 66 million years ago, the viewer’s brain still buys it and processes it as visual input.
There is an obligation to communicate when something is speculative; an ethical responsibility to not misrepresent known science. And while conflating the speculative with the factual is an endemic problem within the genre, most paleomedia simply does not have the reach and influence of Prehistoric Planet. When a production has the backing of both Apple Inc. and the BBC, and is being played on repeat on every showroom test screen at Best Buy (as was recently the case) it has weight behind it. The farther the reach, the more critical it is to get it right.
One only needs to look at Jurassic Park's impact on the public perception of dinosaurs to corroborate this. ‘Velociraptors’ in those films are nominally based on Deinonychus and Utahraptor — but because the name Velociraptor appealed more, in accordance with the ‘rule of cool’ it was taken from the turkey-sized creature in the fossil record and reconfigured as a reptilian grizzly bear.
Misrepresented data is thus embedded in the social mythos, becoming exponentially more difficult to correct as time goes on. Prehistoric Planet is many people’s first introduction to non-avian dinosaurs (et al.) as anything other than movie monsters. In fact, multiple segments throughout both seasons are in direct dialogue with Jurassic Park; there is no reason Velociraptor specifically should be as heavily featured as it is, except to counteract Jurassic Park’s pervasive misrepresentation. That Prehistoric Planet excludes birds from the category of dinosaurs will inevitably set back the entire genre. Just as Prehistoric Planet attempts to redress Velociraptor, the next production to cover this ground will be forced to redress Prehistoric Planet.
In an age of scientific illiteracy, the documentary is one of the most accessible formats for communicating the basic information necessary to understand the world around us. Those involved in the production of educational material have a responsibility to their audience and to their topic, and for all its many strengths, Prehistoric Planet fails to deliver.
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alessiamalfoyzabini · 21 days ago
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Moondir - 03
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Pairing | moondir!OT7 x human!Reader
Word Count | 6,3K
Warnings | +18, coercion, power dynamics, blood, torture, noncon touching, talks about future sex, hatred, one of the characters suffers from selective post-traumatic mutism, Yoongi and MC clearly have unresolved issues 💀, Jimin is a 100% asshole, discomfort and discussions about smell, Namjoon enjoys humiliating MC, Taehyung is in heat (not kidding) this is not for minors.
This fanfiction is dark and yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.
I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.
This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.
Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.
⤷ Summary | The Moondir, born of the Moon Goddess' love for a wolf, were persecuted and enslaved by humans for merely existing. Moondirian women have been captured and killed in the most heinous ways, men have instead been forced to do dangerous work in place of the humans themselves, and after more than a century, this has virtually brought their race to the brink of extinction. A group of Moondirian rebels have succeeded in their quest to regain their freedom, and not without the use of the crudest violence. Their females are now gone, and it will be human women who will help them repopulate the world.
➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! ❤️
I apologize for the delay, it's been a really terrible few days and a member of my family has been very sick, anxiety and stress didn't allow me to finish the chapter sooner 🥺😭 Now things are going well and I've found some peace of mind, I really hope you enjoy the chapter and I apologize if you find any mistakes! ❤️ Let me know what you think! I love reading your comments! Thank you so much for your patience and support, I love you 🥰
Taglist is open: @katherine-kookie - @btsuga-d - @pantara - @angelicsmilesworld - @lennieharper - @takemeaway5402 - @jiminismine4ever - @m00njinnie - @ke1k029 - @velvet-stardust2002 - @darkuni63 - @douknowbts - @aiiselle90210 - @fewercascade - @mageprincess7 - @get-that-brain-working - @whipwhoops - @dragons-flare - @seokjins-luigi - @pjmsneverland - @jimincrystal - @ajkwww - @ungodlyjoon - @hecateslittlewitchling - @namjoonsbuspass - @xicanacorpse - @btssimplove - @antisocial-mochi267 - @reallygenerouskoala - @dabishou - @themwordsblog - @deluluisme - @justanarchiveforfics - @blackberrywonie - @the-holy-hobi - @justlikecrazy - @herareila - @furioustrashlover - @mar-lo-pap - @dachshunddame - @pantaral81 - @withmuchluv-tannie - @calmyourtitts7 - @plushjeno - @rafesbunniebby - @rms-expensive-girl - @polnaraffsrack - @rg2108 - @paramedicnerd004 - @jungshaking - @ane102 - @moonstarw - @teardoong - @butterymin
Main List - 01 - 02 - 03
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“Hoseok told me something interesting, little flower,” Taehyung whispers in your ear, his voice low and rough. The wolf scents of cinnamon and burnt wood, an aroma that confuses you, knocking you out between your broken breaths. “Seokjin seems to have been far too kind to you during your examination” he adds in an insinuating tone, clutching you with one arm as he moves slowly, possessively, between your thighs with his free hand, “What does that mean?”
“Stay away from me, please,” you sob, chasing that hand away; you've already been kissed in a vile way, you can't stand even such a thing.
Hoseok nonchalantly sits in an armchair, following the scene with eyes glittering with interest. Taehyung touches your cheek with his tongue, it's slow and warm, picking up a tear you didn't even know you shed. You stiffen, your lips stretched into a hard line.
“You're so good, I'm almost sorry I scared you so much,” he smiles with a wry tinge in his amber eyes. His lips brush the angle of yours, leaving you with a kiss that tastes more like dirty promises than an apology.
You narrow your eyes, trying to ignore his towering figure holding you captive against him. “You're definitely better than that,” you hiss through clenched teeth. "I'm not going to rebel... I know the only alternative would be to die. But please ... not like this."
It is a gamble to try to reason with him, Taehyung is a beast at its peak, and now that you can think more clearly, you realize that the wolf's body is also shaking, but less noticeably than yours.
He is excited, perhaps from the hunt from which he has just returned. Perhaps because he has not yet had a chance to get rid of the adrenaline burning under his skin. And now... he's trying to dump it on you.
“Why do you persist so much, little flower?” whispers Hoseok in a caressing voice, tilting his head as if genuinely curious. “It's going to happen anyway... why fight anymore?”
Why?
Because you are not ready. Because you are human. Because you have dignity. Because you don't want to break completely.
“Come closer, girl,” he orders, patting his thigh, leaving you speechless.
As if he received the order from his superior, Taehyung lets you go. And maybe it really is an order. Of hierarchy.
“Don't make me say it again,” he warns you, and instinctively you take steps in his direction, "Like this. Good."
You drop onto his legs; he grips your waist with a possessive arm, his touch firm yet charged with a warmth that makes you lose your breath.
“Now, tell me why we shouldn't touch you like this-” his long, light fingers caress your waist in small circles, slowly rising to the round lines of your breasts. You want to scream, but his touch confuses you, destabilizes you.
And you don't know how to respond.
“You...” Hoseok's thumb grazes your lower lip, the words stuck in your throat.
"Tell me. Taehyung and I are listening," at his words you turn to the other wolf, he clutches the back of the sofa tightly, his jaw is contracted and his pupils dilated. What the hell...?
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Broken, high-pitched, howl-like moans and stench of dry, ferrous blood.
Seokjin wipes his hands before putting on gloves. The room is almost completely dark, to unnerv the prisoner, but he can comfortably see the workings of his teammates.
Namjoon is finishing wiping on his own jacket the long sharp blade he used to chop off one by one the fingers of the man, who is trembling in shock from his torture. He is bound hand and foot to a chair, his dark, wispy eyes darting from one side of the room to the other, trying to figure out who will be next to make him discover new ways to learn about hell alive.
Namjoon's eyes, blue as a night sky, seem dull and apathetic, but only an hour earlier they looked dreamy as he carved his own initials into the man's forehead, letting a cascade of blood blind him.
“So you're not helping us, Jackie,” complained another - Yoongi - lowering himself to the prisoner's height, "Why are you willing to suffer like this? Hand over the rest of your comrades and I promise to give you a quick death, I might even secure a proper burial for you," he tries to persuade him in a mock sorry tone, but the man categorically shakes his head, before spitting a stream of saliva and blood onto the ground, not far from Yoongi's shiny boots.
The wolf's eyes twinkle with amusement as he observes the result of the gesture, "Hmm. A few days ago another person also spit on me... but she was prettier than you,” he chuckles, then without changing his expression, Yoongi sinks a fist into the man's stomach, who doubles over panting, saliva dripping from his lips, “There, that's how you should salivate."
Seokjin wrinkles his nose slightly, finding that human's swollen face disgusting; he wouldn't even want to touch him to tell the truth.
“He won't talk, Yoongi,” announces a more fluty voice, "At least not for today, let Seokjin nurse him a bit and leave him with his final thoughts. I'm sure Jackie is just as tired as we are."
Jimin keeps his hands in his pockets, in a completely relaxed pose, but his stiff shoulders say more than that. He's just trying to maintain control; he doesn't want to kill another vile human being before he's even obtained valuable information. He has already killed far too many — and he did it mercifully
“I have... begged... the h-high officials to kill you... all,” spits the man with difficulty, “You a-are unclean beasts,” he hisses with blood between his now broken teeth, “From. me. you. will. know. nothing,” he concludes with hatred.
Yoongi watches the man with a distant, bored look, “So... we have nothing more to say to each other, I guess.”
“Yoongi, wait-” interjects Seokjin, irritated. It would be insane to kill the man after hours spent questioning him. Just the idea of having wasted that time sends him out of his mind, but he doesn't have time to say anything else.
A figure moves in the shadows, silent as the night, yet clearly visible.
Then a bubbling sound breaks the air.
The prisoner's throat opens in a sharp, clean cut, as if it were butter.
Jungkook's lilac eyes shine in the half-light. He does not speak. Anger pulses in his tendons, in his hand clenched around the still bloodstained dagger. The prisoner stares at him in shock, but his hands are tied and he cannot see his own end.
Some splashes have stained Yoongi's jacket. He does nothing to clean himself.
"Too late, Jin. Jungkook got tired, too."
“Why do you always have to get in the way, 'Kook?” asks Namjoon with an arched eyebrow. The younger boy replies with a shrug.
“Forget it, he wasn't going to talk anyway” Yoongi stands up, putting his leather gloves back on, Seokjin can swear he sees one of the guards posted at the entrance lift his eyes to the sky, before returning to stare blankly, waiting for more orders.
With a grin he shakes his head, Yoongi is far too permissive with Jungkook and this causes jealousies among the ranks.
“Let's go back to our base,” then Jimin turns to those guards, “Get rid of the body, you can do what you want with it... although I advise against eating it, it may have been poisoned before we found it.”
“If so, then he did a bad job with the doses, considering he's been alive far too long as well,” snorts Namjoon, loading a shotgun on his back that he never part with.
Seokjin begins to retrieve his medical equipment, irritated with his teammates.
"Medicines, bandages... for what? Nothing ever changes," he snorts. "You already know they won't talk anyway. And you already know you will kill them. It's just a waste of time. And of patience. We could almost make it a standard protocol," he concludes sarcastically, making Namjoon chuckle.
“I thought you were happy to practice what you've learned over the years,” he taunts him, causing him to irritate.
"I just wish you could keep your nerve for once, being led by hatred will not help us find all these rats hiding. And Jungkook, I'm talking to you too," he blurts out to the younger man, who rolls his eyes without making a sound, which sends a painful twinge to his chest.
Jungkook is the result of what each of them has experienced in a hundred years.
“Enough discussion, we have more to think about now,” sneers Namjoon, “Or have you all forgotten?”
Yoongi, who up to that moment had been smiling wryly, suddenly loses all expression. A stony silence falls over those present.
Seokjin takes a good look at them, biting his lower lip, “Shit.”
They are unpresentable.
They look like they've just stepped out of a horror movie, amid splashes of blood on their faces and uniforms soaked with sweat and dirt. The chase was particularly bloody; Jackie was simply the last name on an endless list. That's why Seokjin feels so irritated and tired.
“We should clean up and change uniforms, I'm going to-”
“No bullshit,” Yoongi interrupts him, cutting him off. “We'll clean up at home, I have nothing to hide.” He nods to the guards: it's time to move toward the vans.
“I'm tired, I don't feel like making myself look good for a cheap whore,” Jimin blurts out, pulling back a strand of tousled hair before leaving the torture room first, in the building that used to belong to the mayor.
They take different vans, Jimin catches up with Namjoon and Jungkook, who pretend to look out the windows, but their ears are strained, on the other hand, Seokjin is fuming with anger.
He reaches Yoongi in the back seat of the other military van and crosses his legs, crossing his arms like a parent disapproving of a child's choices, "Jimin has to move on. And so do you."
"Are you my psychologist? I'm done with that shit, and Jimin is just fine. You've seen how he works, right? At least those human bastards didn’t turn him into a wimp with all those drugs they were pumping into him," he growls at him.
"I understand you, Yoongi. I know what you've been through, because I've been there myself, but that girl is our only chance for a better future."
“Why her?” he growls, “Why did you choose her?”
Seokjin looks at him in amazement, "Do you think I did that? Yoongi, I have no decision-making power, it's blood that determines matches. Your blood chose her,” he retorts curtly, “You always told me about her father and brother, but never about her... so why do you dislike her so much? She doesn't seem like a bad person."
Yoongi begins to chuckle in response, adjusting his jacket on his chest, “Have you fallen into the trap yet, man?” he teases him, “Don't give her too much rope, that's a poisonous viper.”
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“Stop it!” you explode, trying to regain control, "I'm not going to do anything until the doctor gets here! Dr. Oliver said everything will have to be checked before you can do whatever you like."
You finally find an opening to free yourself: you get up from Hoseok almost tripping over your own feet.
Meanwhile, Taehyung has slowly slipped off his jacket, revealing his dirt-stained uniform and... more. Something you refuse to give a name to.
He drops onto the sofa like a dead weight, closing his eyes with a contracted expression.
“Damn... this stuff is stronger than I thought,” he groans against his bent arm, his voice muffled, labored.
Hoseok clenches his jaw, “Then I suggest you go to sleep, joking is one thing, losing control is something else entirely,” he rebukes him, leaving you confused.
Had it all been a game to them so far?
Pieces of shit.
But you don't dare say those words out loud.
The atmosphere is strange, you still have in mind the intense look Taehyung gave you a few moments earlier, it seemed quite animalistic.
“She has no idea what’s going on, does she?” he murmurs, looking sicker.
“Of course not, you've seen for yourself how incapable she is of satisfying a man, she's not that kind,” Hoseok replies in an insinuating tone.
Taehyung lets his gaze slide over you, slow and intrusive.
“She's almost cute, though,” he smiles and your heart does a strange thing, like a somersault that embarrasses you and makes you blush.
“Say that when you find her whimpering on the bed” Hoseok rolls his eyes, at which you flare up.
“You certainly seem to know me,” you reply, almost blowing. Your wry reply draws Taehyung's attention.
“Now who made her angry?”
“I'm not angry” you nip Hoseok's rebuke in the bud, staring him straight in the eye without fear, "I won't cry, I know I'm lucky. Because I can still breathe and talk, don't treat me like a spoiled child, I'm not!"
"You say you're not, but you don't seem to have changed much. You really are a spoiled child."
At the exact instant those words cut through the air, time freezes. Even Hoseok and Taehyung appear surprised.
Suddenly the living room seems to shrink around you. No. It is not possible, he cannot be here.
“I can smell her fear, Celestial Goddess, Yoongi--what did you do to her to make her like this,” laughs another voice, deeper.
It is with fear blocking your throat that you turn your gaze in his direction.
Yoongi is staring at you with a glassy gaze, he might start cutting you down little by little, and he won't lose that composed, relaxed air of his, despite his creased and dirty clothes, perhaps even more than Taehyung's clothes.
Yoongi also returned from a hunt, but his seems to have ended in a more satisfying way. Still, he is not necessarily finished.
Behind him a group of men seem to be just waiting for his order so they can play with you; you recognize two of them. Jimin and Seokjin.
You are not amazed at the man with amber eyes filled with contempt, you realize he is actively working alongside his captain, but Seokjin?
Is he the doctor who is in charge of keeping the prisoners alive so he can calmly interrogate them? Will he also participate in their repopulation project, using you?
He immediately turns his blue eyes away from yours when he notices the wounded light you direct at him.
You don't even know why you are so disappointed in him, you two talked only once and he touched you against your will, but you thought maybe he was different. A little better than his fellow members of... what? Pack?
Next to him you also study the other two wolves, you have never seen them in your life, they are simply terrifyingly beautiful.
The guy with the dark blue eyes is the size of a closet. His black hair - still damp - falls back, uncovering his forehead, and that leaves you with a chance to clearly read the hungry look he is giving you. He scrutinizes you from head to toe and his full lips are bent in a ravenous, smug smile. He looks at you as if you were the hottest thing to ever appear in a room -- but with the same respect that you reserve for a fancy whore. And no, it's not pleasant.
The other has a wilder, almost unkempt look. His brown hair falls over his eyes, a barely concealed lilac glow catches you off guard. Are those really lilac eyes? You stare at him dumbly, and it seems to agitate him in a negative way; he bares his teeth and growls at you, a sound that gets under your skin and causes you to take an instinctive step back. Once again it is Hoseok who holds you still, communicating with his gaze to stay where you are. Then you remember Seokjin's warning: Don't run.
“You have a strange memory of me, captain,” you force yourself to respond somehow, hating the quiver in your voice.
Yoongi's grin deepens, interested.
"Is that what you call me now? You flatter me, Y/N” he tosses his coat to the floor, revealing blood soiling the sleeves of his uniform, and his gloves go the same way, "You used to just call me ‘boy’ " he follows Hoseok's example and pours liquor into a crystal glass, Jimin and Namjoon do the same, and soon the living room is filled with deep voices and the pungent smell of cigars.
Seokjin stows his jacket on a coat rack, turning his nose up at the villanous attitude of his companions, then nods at you, silently asking you to sit in the unoccupied chair. That simple gesture brings you back down to earth, but the tension gripping your throat does not ease.
You move with concern, noticing the two strangers approaching Taehyung, who seems to have taken on a rather bright pink complexion. He seems to be fighting something.
“Maybe you really should go to bed,” offers Hoseok once again, “You look like you're about to give in,” more like a disguised order than advice.
You see Taehyung shake his head firmly, “I want to be there when you decide what to do” his voice is hoarse, fiery. “She is also mine, remember?”
You almost shudder as you moan, but as you sit down on the padded material, Seokjin kneels at your side, taking your wrist between his long fingers. He wants to measure your pulse probably, afraid you will faint at any moment?
"She is no one's. She is only a means to the cause,” Jimin blurts out, his voice as sharp as a blade, “When she finishes what she was chosen for, we won't need her anymore."
His eyes nail you, rabid, as if every word were a verdict already written.
“I wouldn't mind keeping her,” the dark blue-eyed wolf speaks for the first time, revealing an extraordinary deep tone of voice, “It would be a waste to limit yourself to two or three children.”
Jimin looks like he could strike him down in an instant. "Are you really the one saying that? You, who should understand me better than anyone, Namjoon?"
Namjoon. That's what his name is. Now you have a face, a name, and one more enemy.
“Don't get me wrong, Jimin...” he retorts, his tone more serious but far from regretful, "I haven't forgotten who we are. Nor what they have done to us and what we have irretrievably lost. I'm just saying that to throw it away too soon... that would be a waste. They kept us in chains for a whole century. The least would be to return the favor... to the last drop of their lives."
Your stomach contracts.
Your heart sinks into the abyss.
You are at the mercy of seven men who, looking at you, see only the years of imprisonment they have spent.
The only one who has not yet exposed himself with a disgusting and cruel speech is the lilac-eyed wolf; he stands apathetically by Yoongi's side. He doesn't smoke, he doesn't drink, he doesn't talk. He has also lost the spark of anger that you had aroused in him a few moments ago; he looks every bit like a soulless rag doll.
“Would you be so kind as to report all this directly to me?” Seokjin jerks his head up toward you, surprised and startled by your courage.
“How?” asks Hoseok, stinging.
"You heard me. I think I have the right to be considered at least a little by you. It's my body, my womb," something in your words makes Namjoon chuckle in response.
"Haven't you figured that out yet? You no longer have any rights, we are in charge now."
You cast a glance at Seokjin, who reciprocates with an impassive face. He doesn't say it, but he clearly agrees with Namjoon. In this new world, even those who show you some kindness will always think of you as less than nothing. You found this out with Dr. Oliver and now with Seokjin as well.
“So don't go around it anymore, what will happen from now on?” you ask without second thoughts. If you have to comply with their every request in order to survive, so be it.
“Don't you want to fight?” the annoyed tone of Yoongi surprises you a little, does he want you to fight?
Of course. To punish you.
“Would it do any good?” you retort with a sad smile. The captain, in response, casually goes back to drinking, deciding that ignoring you is probably best for everyone. He dismisses you with a look as if you were an annoying detail.
It's going to be a long night.
“You're in your most fertile period, your scent is very strong and affects us, Taehyung is the clearest proof,” Seokjin interrupts the staring contest you and the cold captain put on. An animalistic grunt makes you wince.
"I'm fine. It's bearable," Taehyung swallows,
“Don't bullshit, the room pretty much just smells like her.”
That sentence does not please you at all, "Do you have to be so explicit? It's disgusting," you retort, feeling ashamed just imagining what kind of smell you give off, to be so strong to their noses.
Jimin clicks his teeth in your direction, “It's our nature, show respect.”
"I say we start with the ‘meeting’ so everyone can go to bed and rest. We are all tired here," Hoseok announces, sensing the tension in the air and wrinkling his nose at the unpleasant and far from pleasant smell inside the room. It is animalistic and asphyxiating, acrid like sweat, something forcibly restrained, unlike your own which is simply sublime and is driving him crazy.
You smell of a moonlit night, of breeze brushing the wildflowers and carrying their sweet scent, you smell of freedom and this is undeniable, even to Jimin himself who is forcibly restraining himself from jumping on you.
Hoseok's green eyes shift to Yoongi, his captain appears icy and impassive, but he too is pawing beneath the surface. They haven't been with a woman for a long time, and certainly not by their own choice. To them you're a fucking feast.
Seokjin leaves your side to take a seat next to Taehyung, seeming to want to make sure the other doesn't suddenly go crazy, the empty feeling you feel is uncomfortable, making you uneasy. You feel somehow abandoned.
"Tonight you will just rest, but starting tomorrow our procreation program will begin. To make sure you get pregnant as soon as possible, you will sleep every night with at least one of us. Every morning I will check your health status and your vitals, it will only take me a moment to figure out whether or not you have become pregnant," he explains with his gaze over your shoulder, he is simply pretending to look at you. Something prevents him from meeting your eyes, perhaps something called “pity.”
“So we have to decide our turns, hyung,” nods Namjoon with crossed arms, receiving a nod of assent from the other.
“That's right, but we have to do it according to her needs for the time being,” Seokjin points to you, causing Yoongi to arch an eyebrow.
“What's that supposed to mean?” he asks almost annoyed, “It's our needs that you should put first.”
“And that would be so, in a normal situation,” the doctor takes him back in a harsh voice, “But the human is a virgin and I'm not going to force her to have her first sexual intercourse with someone who terrifies the hell out of her, that would be cruel and counterproductive.”
Embarrassment stains you red from head to toe, you didn't expect Seokjin to shout to the four winds what he found out during the first exam, but this seems to ignite the newcomers with interest.
“What a surprise,” Yoongi sneers wryly, “I thought you finally succumbed to the baker's advances.”
His words wound you. They are a blade that lacerates your heart with impressive ease. That comment comes out of his lips too harsh, too accusatory, and you want to cry, because he knows what really happened and should never have thought of such a thing.
“You yourself know that I have too much pride to give in to the wishes of a man like Evan, but you've probably forgotten,” you reply bitterly, hinting to others that you and Yoongi in the past had more than a master-servant relationship. And you did. There was much more respect between you two than he wants to admit now.
The captain grits his teeth menacingly.
“Be careful how you talk, you insolent little one,” he hisses with a calmness that reeks of malice, “It wouldn't take you long to end up on your knees, polishing my boots with your tongue while one of my brothers takes what he wants from that insulting body of yours.”
“You don't scare me Min Yoongi,” you smile joylessly, “I've seen my family die, nothing impresses me anymore.”
You are clearly lying, but he does not need to know that. It is rather pleasant to see that always mocking face turn granite.
“So that's it, I don't scare you,” he nods apologetically, “Then you won't mind bending over whenever I need to get my dick a little wet,” you stiffen, humiliated and shocked by the ease with which he utters those words, and it is Seokjin who puts a stop to it.
“We're not here to have as much fun as we like, captain,” he announces coldly, “The human will be treated well for easier and faster conception.”
Namjoon snorts in response, “Yeah, yeah... you and your bullshit about a peaceful and healthy environment that will benefit her fertility and other such bullshit.”
“It’s a headache,” moans Taehyung, panting slightly, running a hand through his hair, awkwardly mussing it. Drops of sweat bead his forehead, making him ominously attractive. Like a wolf panting hungrily before his next meal. Averting his eyes before he can meet yours, you wrap your arms around your body and curl up in the chair.
“Each of us will have to spend at least one day a week with her, based also on our schedules clearly,” the doctor continues, “And also based on character aspects to be kept under control,” you see the wolf cast a brief glance at the lilac-eyed boy, who merely grunts, leaving you quite confused. He doesn't seem the least bit interested in you. You hope this is a sign; perhaps you will avoid spending time with that particular wolf, saving you at least some of the misery of sharing your body with strangers.
Finally, Seokjin addresses you directly, "I know how upsetting it all still may seem to you, but you have no other options. I advise you to choose who will be first.”
“It will be an honor,” you reply with a hint of venom and irony in your voice, and you are not surprised to see Jimin instantly stiffen.
"If the idea disgusts you so much, why don't you get yourself disemboweled? Let's get it over with here and now," he growls, not even trying to restrain himself.
For some reason, his outburst pulls a crooked smile from you.
“Or maybe you're the one who's disgusted by me,” you retort calmly, staring at him.
And that's when an idea flashes through your mind. A crazy, twisted and probably self-destructive decision.
You had thought about choosing Seokjin: he was the kindest, the most cautious. But for that very reason... he would be precise, meticulous. He would complete his task and you would probably remember him forever.
No. Better someone who hates you.
A wolf who won't even be able to touch you without vomiting his soul. If he feels disgust enough to back off, he'll be perfect. And even if he manages to go through with it in the end, it will still be such a harrowing experience to forget.
He will be your nightmare, but you will be his.
Sure, you want to survive, but enjoy the touch of a Moondirian?
No. That would be so humiliating that you would wish for death. They may get your body, but not your mind, much less your heart.
“Y/N?” the voice of Seokjin interrupts your silence, you can catch a veil of concern in his tone.
“I’ve decided,” you say, letting your gaze rest on Jimin’s amber eyes. “You’ll be the first.”
Your decision seems to shock everyone present, Taehyung's eyes are so wide that he finally bursts into laughter  — a sound closer to a howl — while Seokjin shakes his head slightly, as if to disapprove of what you have just said.
But it is Yoongi's somber expression that makes you tremble slightly; the captain leaves his seat silently, passes his glass to the lilac-eyed boy, and leaves the room without a word, while Jimin almost seems to be foaming with anger.
“Bitch” is all he manages to snarl, before he strides past you with heavy footsteps, leaving a trail of light scent behind him, orange blossom and amber.
“Are you sure?” the voice of Hoseok sounds hoarse, as if moved by a subtle anger that he refuses to show.
“It's a duty, not a pleasure,” you reply harshly, not at all regretting that you just scored your first time.
“The fact that he hates you won't stop Jimin, he'll take what he has to take and he'll do it regardless,” Namjoon warns you with a strange seriousness. After all, he was the one who called you an object in the first place, “He is going through a delicate moment and his wolf isn't well.”
His wolf?
“I'll survive,” you smile without happiness, “That's all that matters to me.”
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The room to which Seokjin took you immediately afterwards is dark and cold. It lacks an abat-jour and even a candle to be able to light the bare room, but you certainly cannot complain after the corpses you saw scattered throughout the houses in the neighborhood where you lived. Humans had used fairy magic to keep some of their settlements hidden, but all it took was for one person to know the location on the map to render all efforts in vain. You don't even know why Yoongi didn't raze everything right away; perhaps he had simply taken his time to make you and your family tremble with fear.
Yoongi.
That look before he left the living room still gives you chills when you think back on it. You didn't really mean to incur his wrath, but you felt like a cockroach in front of him and reacted by provoking him as a defense and using Jimin as a resource, probably one of the fiercest wolves in the house.
One who would not think twice about opening your throat from side to side.
You've ruined yourself with your own hands, even Seokjin and Hoseok seemed irritated by your stupid decision, but there's no turning back now.
You tighten the blankets on yourself, moaning a little at the cold, your eyes now accustomed to the absence of light scanning the room shrouded in silence, unable to rest. A grip of anxiety squeezes your chest, stirring your poor, already battered heart, a bad feeling rages against your body, trying to rebel against the new plan that is now your life.
You could escape now.
The window isn’t sealed, and with all the blankets and sheets in the room, you could make a rope long enough to climb down.
You grit your teeth, shaking your head. Even if you made it over that first hurdle, it wouldn't take long for the wolves of Moondir to track you down and - in all probability - punish you. You let go a deep breath filled with frustration.
“What are you thinking so hard about, baby doll?”
Before you can scream, a hand presses against your lips contracted in surprise, as a wave of cinnamon and burnt wood hits you, leaving you breathless. A hot body in the prime of its masculinity trembles on you, the man sighs against your ear, and you finally recognize him. Taehyung.
His heated skin dampens the sweater you found inside the closet and decided to use for sleeping, but he has lost the sour smell of sweat and blood. Suddenly you no longer feel cold with your back resting against his bare chest, but agitation makes your temples throb.
“Promise not to scream, and I'll leave you free to talk,” he whispers, brushing the line of your neck with the tip of his nose. You squint, a slight moisture wetting your eyelashes as you nod.
When the weight of his hand lifts you exhale, flustered.
“You can't be here,” you warn him, aiming your wide-open eyes at the closed door. When and how did he enter? Seokjin locked that door to keep you from leaving... and maybe even to keep them from entering.
“I can't stay away from you,” he moans against your neck, his arms tightened around your legs, holding you tighter to his incandescent body. It makes you feel tiny, helpless, “It's all fucking fire, and your scent only makes it worse,” he confesses with his lips now pressed against your shoulder, a strange sensation pooling in the center of your chest.
“Have you tried... a cool shower?” you stammer, panic-stricken.
Shit. What the fuck are you thinking of telling him!
His low, rough laugh immobilizes you.
“I've done three, baby doll,” he forces you to turn away, holding your chin between forefinger and thumb. “But it only gets better when I can touch you,” he hisses, his half-closed amber eyes shining brightly in the dark with an almost frightening intensity.
“You have a fever,” you murmur as you slowly lift a hand, your fingers brushing his sweat-soaked forehead. His hair drips to his temples, and even without a crisp light, you know his face is flushed. But this is no ordinary fever: he is delirious.
“I've had it ever since the wolf smelled you in the house,” he laughs softly, brushing your neck with his nose, almost obsessed with that spot.
“The... wolf?” you ask, trying to keep your wits about you as he comes dangerously close. You need to distract him, and talking seems the only way.
“Mh-mh,” he murmurs, hugging you tightly, sinking his face between your breasts. He vibrates as if purring, making you blush to your ears. “He likes you, baby doll -- and I like you, too.”
You swallow, gritting your teeth.
"You should have Seokjin examine you. He would know how to help you," you suggest, trying to shake him gently, without provoking him. But your suggestion makes him stiffen.
“I don't want to,” he hisses hoarsely, lifting his gaze to you again, “I don't want those fucking suppressors,” and something tells you he wants you.
You squint, you have to play your cards right if you want to survive. Getting fucked by a wolf in heat and probably out of control doesn't seem to be a good thing, but he certainly won't leave without getting something first.
“You're in heat, am I right?” you ask him bluntly, causing him to grunt in assent, “Humans like me don't go into heat, I don't even know how it works for you” you explain calmly, “So I can't really help you that way.”
"Especially since you chose to give yourself to Jimin, am I right?” he snaps venomously into your ear, “I hope you know what you’re doing” his fingers slide down your back as if trying to find a spot to let go, but they stop halfway, hesitating. The way he's trying to hold back is really admirable.
“I'd still like to help you,” you reply, deciding to ignore his last insinuations, “Just tell me how.”
“You don't understand... it's a need to bite and brand while-”
A quiver shakes his heated body as a stifled yelp escapes his lips, now pressed against your chest in a desperate attempt at self-control. His body heat is pleasant and wrong; you should not rejoice in it.
“Give me your wrist,” he growls, his voice low and strained like a rope about to snap, “And don't move for any reason, if you do I won't be limited to just that anymore,” the warning in his tone petrifies you, but you do as he says.
He presses his thumb against the thin skin of your wrist, listens as if hypnotized to every reverberation of your frantic pulse, and leaves a kiss on it. It is slow and hot, and against your will a pleasant tingle builds up in your lower abdomen, you try to chase that feeling away, but the sensation of his teeth sinking into your skin just enough to leave a mark makes you moan slightly, undecided whether to find it pleasurable or annoying.
Taehyung moves against your body, licking away a few drops of your blood. He concentrates with the tip of his tongue on the tiny little holes his fangs have left, before reaching out toward you with a new hunger etched into his savage features. The charcoal that circles his eyes darkens his already dangerous gaze, leaving you breathless.
“I can't wait to catch you, baby doll,” he sighs on your lips, the fever does not seem to have gone away but there is a new awareness that seems to have calmed his wolf, “You have been very good to me, I promise I will be generous,” he whispers, kissing the angle of your mouth softly, before retreating.
“Good night,” he wishes you, leaving you shocked.
What the hell just happened? Now that the cold has returned to the room, you finally realize that you have been at the mercy of a wolf for indefinite moments.
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lamemaster · 6 months ago
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Things the Silmarillion elves find adorable about a human reader
After surveying the recurring elves of this blog, here are seven things they find adorable about humans:
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Waving Greeting
Maedhros froze the first time you did it. Across the military camp, you excitedly waved at him. Raising your arm high, you waved, smiling broadly, and your elf froze in his path. For a fleeting moment, he thought it must be someone else you were so happy to greet. But no. It was him. With unpracticed-stiff movements, he raised his own arm and waved back. He watched as laughter bubbled out of you, and you ran to him, leaving him utterly dumbfounded yet his heart leaping out of his chest.
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Baggy Clothing
Glorfindel tries not to stare, but by Elbereth, it is hard. Drowning in his robes, you look utterly adorable. The way the sleeves flow down your arms, completely covering your hands, and how the fabric pools around your feet, it’s enough to make him squeal. He worries briefly that you might trip, but for now, he’s too busy enjoying the sight. Picking you up in his arms, he resists the urge to squeeze you, mindful of the last time he tried and how poorly that ended for him. Still, his heart aches at how endearing you look, swallowed by the robes that were never quite meant for you.
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Breathless Laughter
The entire palace can hear it. Yet this does not stop the subtle smile it puts on everyone’s face. Sitting across from you, Finrod watches you wheeze with laughter, clutching your stomach as you fall off your chair. Your face is red, your eyes brimming with tears. “I think I peed a little,” you whisper through giggles as your friend continues laughing uncontrollably. Finrod loves the sight of such unrestrained joy, raw, rugged happiness amid marred lands. How wonderful it must be, he thinks, to express joy so freely.
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Apologizing to Inanimate Objects
It’s not the first time Maeglin has seen you do this. Bumping into a corner, you mutter a quick “Sorry,” rubbing your arm as though the object could feel pain. Wooden crates, rocks, curtains, tables, nothing escapes your apologies, and Maeglin secretly adores it. It’s such an absentminded habit, and yet it speaks volumes about your nature. There is, however, one exception: when you stub your toe on something. Then, your mouth lets loose with the vocabulary of a seasoned sailor. Much to his dismay (and secret delight), Maeglin finds even this utterly endearing. But there’s absolutely no way he’s telling you that. He keeps that fondness locked away where you’ll never uncover it.
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Love for Blankets
Fingon has trekked across the Helcaraxe. He knows the cold and understands the precious value of warmth. Yet, his appreciation pales in comparison to yours. He absolutely loves your ritual of joy at the sight of your bed. The way you jump into your blankets, rubbing your feet together, scrunching your eyes shut, and giggling. It’s a sight he never tires of. On nights when he gets to witness this, Fingon even mimics your antics, despite not feeling the cold himself. He delights in how you grin and snuggle into him, often followed by your sneaky attempt to press your freezing feet against his. Though he feigns annoyance, he treasures every moment of it.
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Physical Touch
Beleg smiles broadly the moment you enter a room. Without fail, your eyes scan the space until they find him, and then you make your way over to sit beside him. Every. Single. Time.
He loves how humans gravitate toward physical closeness, finding contentment in proximity alone. Unlike elves, who feel bonds through senses, heartbeats, or thoughts, you seek him out with pure will. Every time you do, Beleg can’t help but put his arms around you, squeezing you in a way he’s seen you do to him. And when you hum contentedly, he melts just a little more.
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Baby Voice
Celegorm can’t help but laugh at the way your voice softens when you bend down to pet Huan. Every time you see the hound, you greet him with exaggerated enthusiasm, “Who’s a goob boy?” Celegorm has, on several occasions, reminded you that Huan is older than your grandfather, older than your entire kind, in fact. Yet this knowledge hasn’t dimmed your excitement one bit. Your bubbly tone, the kisses on Huan’s paws, the endless stream of pets, Celegorm finds it both amusing and endearing. Much to your credit, Huan is completely putty in your hands.
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sirfrogsworth · 2 months ago
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So Elon has decided to skip the imminent disaster of global climate change and just move on to a calamity 5 billion years in the future.
If you ever need to understand Elon's motivations, it's all this.
Okay and a little bit the woke mind virus.
But mostly this.
He wants to get to Mars more than anything. It's why the only thing he can speak intelligently about is his rockets. He has put in the time and effort to learn about them because this is his singular passion.
A lovely Youtube physicist did a video about SpaceX and she said half of the rockets blow up and Elon just wants more money. And it was disappointing to hear her say that because she is a scientist and both things are inaccurate.
SpaceX would be an amazing company without Elon. His leadership is the only thing really holding it back. They have put lots of cool shit into space. Their Falcon program is the most productive and cheapest rocket program in history. They put more stuff into space than everyone else combined.
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They had to blow up part of the graph just so you could see the competition. Half of the SpaceX rockets are *not* blowing up.
Starship is a specific prototype. It has nothing to do with their main rocket business. Starship is Elon wanting to go to Mars. It is basically him trying to send a 3 story building into space. And he keeps blowing it up because that is the fastest way to develop a rocket. He's wasting a lot of money by trying to speedrun a trip to Mars in his lifetime. And these tests are bit more like crash test data than expecting the rocket and Starship to actually function properly. It's a process and they have goals for each launch, and for the most part, they reach those goals. Any success after those goals is gravy to them. But they are pretty certain it is going to end in fireworks at this stage of development.
I don't know if they will get it to work. It would be nice because a functional spaceship that size could do a lot of cool science. But Elon's goals and NASA's goals are going to conflict in a major way at some point in the future. And I'm worried that may damage space exploration.
Starship is very different than their Falcon program. It's a science experiment. Falcons rarely blow up. They get shit to space like the James Webb telescope.
And as far as Elon just wanting more money... sort of.
His personal wealth has not been a huge concern of his for a while. Otherwise he wouldn't have let Tesla fall apart like it has. The wealth he is actually concerned about is not his own. Going to Mars is a trillion-dollar-plus endeavor. Even the richest man in the world cannot raise that much money.
Only a government could fund that.
Elon knows this. He figured it out a while ago. And when he saw an opportunity to get his hands on the government purse strings, he jumped at the chance.
He jumped in the shape of an X like a giant loser.
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I'm *positive* Elon thought, "If I could save the government a trillion dollars, they'll give it to me so I can go to Mars."
But it is probably breaking his brain right now after learning he isn't this super genius who can figure out government bureaucracy in a weekend with a bunch of coding dorks.
He got depressed and realized his cool plan to get to Mars was falling apart.
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Whoops.
Elon will say anything to get to Mars. He will lie about anything to get to Mars. He will consort with anyone to get to Mars. If you are ever unsure why Elon is doing something, it's to get to Mars. His moral calculus is based on this. In his delusional mind, everything is justifiable to save the human race.
He does have side quests. He wants to repopulate the Earth with his seed. And he uses IVF because you can drastically increase the odds of getting a boy if you pay extra. And he is angry at his trans daughter because he wants boys to continue his mission to spread Musk seed. He spends $50,000 extra to make sure he gets boys and she is messing with the plan.
Oh, and he really really wants people to think he is good at video games. And he wants people to like him. And he wants to kill the woke mind virus because he didn't get the boy he paid for.
But Mars is *almost* all he cares about.
Elon thinks Earth is doomed and he wants immortality from being the man who saved human civilization. He truly believes our existence is dependent on being "multiplanetary." It might be the only thing he believes.
Saving the human race is supposed to be his legacy.
And it is killing us.
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mellowdisko · 5 months ago
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Many forget that Nipton was never about Vulpes acting for his own sake. At the Fort, when you ask Caesar what the Frumentarii do, he tells you: "Infiltration, assassination, dramatic atrocities to break the spirit of the enemy..." Thats exactly what Nipton was: a dramatic atrocity, a letter that reads: "We are here. We have arrived."
It was never meant to be a lesson. The NCR does not care about morality, neither does the Legion. Nipton was a town that was destined to be destroyed not because it was a wicked place (Vulpes was lying through his teeth about the whole thing -the dead legionnaires are evidence- like thats what he does, that is literally his job!) but because it was small enough to burn without consequence, close enough for the message to be heard. Nipton wasn't a lesson. It was a spectacle, meant to be seen by the eyes of the Republic. Thats why the Courier is tasked to spread the news, they're a mailman delivering a letter.
And Vulpes? Can't say he's explicitly sadistic. A bad person? Absolutely. But not playful with his cruelty. He is just as cruel as every other legionary. The only difference is he is smarter about it, more intense.
Nipton isn’t a part of him. Nothing is. Nothing but the Legion. He does not carry the weight of that town. He does not look back to the ruins he has left behind. Nipton is no pang of remorse, no pleasure, no sin. It is merely a step forward. Proof that the Legion has entered the Bear's den, proof that its will is being done.
And we never see Vupes as he truly is. He is not a person, at least not anymore.
He wears a mask, a new face with every new encounter. In Nipton he is wearing the mask of a vexillarius, in the strip the mask of a gambler. And at the fort, he is just another legionary: red-clad and quiet, a little fox curled at the foot of his emperor's throne. He has 0 indicators of individuality, he is not a person. He's only a name, a shadow streching across the Mojave.
I do believe the only time we get a glimpse of who Vulpes truly is, is when Caesar tells his backstory. His cunning, his wit—but also his insubordination, a hint of rebellious youth. That is who I think he really is: a rebel boy, not in opposition to the Legion, but in relentless devotion to it. Someone who is willing to tear down every pillar, disobey every order just to see the flag rise higher.
Vulpes will slaughter, torture, and betray and engage in "profligate scum" activities for the benefit of his side. He is ready to serve even if it angers the Son of Mars. He doesn't ask for permission. Doesn't beg for forgiveness. He does what he must, then kneels before the blade waiting for the punishment that has never managed to come since his first trial as a decanus. And there is passion in that, a desire. To paint the desert with his nation's red, to whisper his lord's name to every ear, to tame the untamable: the idea, the dream.
At the Fort, we see him as nothing more than a docile soldier but we know that he is different, remarkable; Caesar had said it himself. Rebel boy: always ready to mangle and burn the world and himself along with it just to serve what he believes is providence.
He is "a rather intense young man," whose entire existence is a disguise. A spy so devoted to his duty that he has stripped himself of everything else. A spy, in the fine suit of a gentleman or under the hide of a coyote, tearing down his own tower of humanity as the gods he belives in look down and smile.
He is not a person. He hasn't been a person for a long time.
He is a name, a shadow, a hollowed out man. He is an animal kept at arms length, dog on a leash who does not want to be set free, a weapon, a tool. Pale hand of the Legion reaching west.
With every step through the desert, Vulpes Inculta has left a piece of himself behind, until he is left with nothing but blind faith and bloodied palms. And when you lose everything you ever had in a big bad wasteland you tend to cling onto the first bright colour you see:
Crimson—so inviting, so cruel. Like home.
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Currently drunk and imagining Green Lanterns being the resident alien experts in the Justice League/Titans/whatever superhero team they’re in
Like, when the JL first got together and Hal learned that two of his teammates were the last survivors of their worlds, he decided then and there that he would always support them in whatever way he could.
(Because as the first- and for a while, only- human in the Green Lantern Corps, Hal knew better than most what it was like to be the only one of his species in a room. It’s astonishingly lonely even when you know your planet and people are still alive and well.)
So Hal asks his ring for information about Krypton and Mars, which holidays their people had celebrated and held sacred, what foods they had enjoyed that he could recreate with ingredients available on Earth.
Hal ends up becoming the third JL member after Bruce and Diana to learn about Superman’s secret identity after Clark has to explain that he came to Earth as an infant and most of his own knowledge of Krypton is as secondhand as Hal’s is. J’onn however, is very touched by Hal’s attempts at baking N’bisko cookies, as it reminds him of when he would make them with his wife and daughter.
Guy inadvertently makes Hal's practices into a tradition when he gets roped into some Fourth World drinking games with Mr. Miracle and Big Barda. Apokolips might be a flaming hellhole, but it was still once home to them both and they do miss it at times. Even in his Warrior years, Guy keeps his pub stocked with food and drinks that are popular in space, in case he gets a hungry visitor from the stars.
From then on, it becomes a duty of their shared legacy. John in his rookie days didn’t listen much to Hal but this was one of piece of advice he did heed: You might end up with an alien refugee as a teammate at some point, and it is your job as a Green Lantern to be there for them when they’re homesick. John was never a member of the Titans, and he's certainly no mentor to the team's alien princess, but he does visit Starfire on days when her banishment from Tamaran weighs most heavily, like the Blorthog Festival.
Kyle had no idea about any of this when he inherited the last ring in the wake of the Corp’s twilight. Expecting him to pick up where his predecessors had left off would have been just another weight to carry on his shoulders. So instead the heroes who'd once been touched by a Green Lantern's kindness now return the favor for their only successor. They tell Kyle about the Corps that were the keepers of peace and justice across the universe for thousands of years. They tell him of how the emerald knights of Oa were brave and kind and loved by so many people.
They tell him these things because they see that the Green Lanterns were more than just an organization of lawmen. They were a legacy, a family, a culture. Unorthodox insofar as that every member was an adopted one, but that only meant Kyle is just as much a son of the Corps as Hal or Guy or John had ever been. He may be Oa’s last son, may not have known that he belonged to the Green Lanterns until their light was all but gone, but he would never have to be lonely.
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fluffydeoxys · 4 months ago
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My Sanford and Deimos designs, with an analysis of Sanford, Deimos, their dynamic and what they represent to me, and the thoughts behind how I designed them!! It's quite long, but even then I feel as though I'm only scratching the surface of what I think. I skimmed over Dedmos and MC12 for brevity's sake as I genuinely think it would have doubled the already very long preamble. I hope you enjoy it!
A heads up: A lot of my analysis is predicated on personal headcanons of Sanford/Deimos and Madness Combat as a whole. While I like to make my personal interpretations adhere as close to canon as reasonably possible, there are nonetheless elements I will speak about that don’t really “exist” in the series itself. I try to integrate everything that we do see in canon, however, so I hope there is still something worthwhile for you to read in here! 
So. There aren’t really friends in Nevada, are there? A broken, splintered world marred by madness and violence that bloodies the very earth. Disparate grunts are forced to calcify and adapt to the harsh landscape, and thus forging social bonds has likely become a risky practice. Who’s to say your ‘allies’ won’t turn on you? With the prospect of death always so close, why be attached to someone you could lose so easily? Living communally or working together is feasible and even wise, but beyond that? I doubt anyone gives a second thought to the personal lives of one another. There’s just not enough “brain space” and “normalness” to reconnect with these mundane ideas. 
Furthermore, the existence of S3LF and clones also complicates things further when it comes to individuality and existence. It’s remarkably easy to store and then copy an individual's memories and experiences - the things that arguably define and distinguish a grunt -  into any other body. Are you who you say you are? Or were you never someone at all, merely an idea propagated from a file? Are there social or cultural divides between grunts and clones? Could a clone ever hope to experience the fullness of life with such a minuscule, fragile S3LF that they don’t truly ‘own’? 
It’s quite evident that many facets of Nevada are almost designed to erode humanity, to prevent it from being fostered and nurtured. From anywhere between its harshness to its brutality, to the unintentional cruel designs of the S3LF. It’s a cruel, merciless world that is inhospitable to kindness, friendliness and camaraderie. 
That is merely the beginning of why I find Sanford and Deimos so fascinating as characters. Even from MC5.5 alone, they are so incredibly interesting in a setting like this, demonstrating a bond that is practically never shown anywhere else.
In their debut alone, there are multiple instances of them showing mindfulness and awareness of one another. At 0:34, you have Deimos looking back at Sanford for a moment, and again at 1:09, you have the two looking at one another after clearing the room. Then at 1:16 Sanford bandages Deimos’ head while he slices through Agents, and at 1:30 Sanford boosts Deimos up to get the jump on yet more Agents. And throughout the entire episode, Deimos and Sanford almost always fight with their backs to each other, covering their vulnerable spots. 
MC5.5 strongly demonstrates how well they work together and how they look out for one another when so far, the series has only shown Hank’s effectiveness on their own. While Hank and Sanford/Deimos are worlds apart in strength and aren’t really meant to be directly compared, it does establish that Sanford and Deimos, together, are a force to be reckoned with. 
Then, of course, Madness Combat 6.5 only further builds on these ideas, finally giving Sanford and Deimos their signature appearances. When Sanford is shot in the torso by an Engineer, he is rendered very vulnerable and slow, and this would be the right time to drop any dead weight. A train just rocketed through, and more enemies are undoubtedly around the corner, but Deimos helps Sanford up. He has to watch over Sanford and protect him as he slowly hobbles through rooms and eventually recollects himself enough to keep fighting and patch himself back up. If anything, also a testament to their hardiness and adaptability. 
Then the scene in The Rift. It’s silly and the intent of it is to be silly, especially in the context of Madness Combat and how murder-hungry everyone is, but it so wonderfully demonstrates the bantering and lighthearted demeanour between the two. Deimos seems to care about Sanford’s opinion, tossing aside things he disagrees with and happily accepting what he encourages. And Deimos is who gives Sanford his signature glasses, completing the exchange in an honestly quite charming manner. 
None of this behaviour is really shown in such a positive light anywhere else in Madness Combat. Maybe Church and Jorge at best, but even then. Sanford and Deimos banter with one another, hang out with each other, say silly things and generally show a level of care and interest in one another that extends beyond just fighting. When Sanford asks Deimos if he can hack them through in MPN, Deimos replies with “Can I hack us through… C'mon, man. How long have you known me?”, a simple yet sweet line that indicates their long-standing familiarity. Then there’s the classic big kielbasa and turkey dog conversation, a very silly exchange and one that Sanford seems rather bewildered by, given by his replies. But note, Sanford never demeans or berates Deimos for his “antics” (aside from Deimos wearing an Engineer mask in MC9, but hey, there was a genuine risk of Sanford potentially shooting him there). Furthermore, it’s probably only meant as a surface-level joke, but thinking of Sanford as a big kielbasa “often” sort of shines a light on how they genuinely think of one another in silly, small ways. When you realise that’s in the context of Nevada, you realise how incredibly remarkable that is.  
Further than that, you have an exchange where Deimos asks why the Nexus Core members won’t give up, and is unable to reply when Sanford says, “Would you?” It’s not either of them dismissing questions or blindly following orders. They trust each other's opinions, look to each other when reflecting on matters, and they don’t always have the answers for each other. 
And lastly, at the end of MPN, where it’s just the two of them talking about a problem on a scale far larger than them. Just two guys talking about what they think, and what they could do. No world-breaking power or insanity or inhumanity. Just Sanford and Deimos. 
So you have a long string of showing the bonds between Sanford and Deimos spanning across several years and a game. Then Madness Combat 9 rolls around and, well, the moment they’re forced to split because the Auditor-enhanced Engineers show up… everything is changed forever. 
Deimos is gone and forced to reckon with his death through Dedmos Adventures, and while he reemerges with the help of Doc, he is no longer the same. Conversely, Sanford has to tag along with Mag Hank as they struggle in Auditor’s Hell, and Sanford ends up on his own in 12. He is pushed to the very limits of what he can endure, visibly frustrated and barely containing increasing intensities of rage. There are no more quiet moments, no more slowing down, no longer someone at your side hyping you up, making you laugh, knowing your hobbies, your history. 
Sanford and Deimos were separated, split into life and death. If you consider the real world time, literal years spent apart in the worst places they’ve had to endure yet. But they came back together. Different, changed, but together once more. That final moment in Madness Combat 12, the simple act of Deimos grabbing onto Sanford’s hand before he slips, forms into such a powerful scene that shows that they would defy ANYTHING to find each other again. That their unbreakable bond will help pull each other back from the depths, even paralleling 6.5 with how Deimos helps and protects Sanford after a near-fatal injury. It’s a perfect and very moving representation of their relationship. Their bond is so incredibly remarkable and one-in-a-million and so human. All the mundane things we share with other people in our world are hardly ever seen in Nevada, and for good reason, yet Deimos and Sanford share that with each other. 
The fact that Deimos and Sanford exist in a world like Nevada is so truly special. It inspires hope for what can be possible despite harshness and brutality, that there is something worth living for, that you can find strength and meaning in the grand and the mundane. 
So! Onto what I currently have mangled together for my headcanoned backstory as to how Sanford and Deimos met, because it helps set the stage and give context to the meaning of some things I’ll talk about later. At some stage, Doc recruits Sanford into his cause in the early years, maybe a year or two after Doc dissents from the AAHW. He’s a very effective and useful member, as Doc often used Sanford to pry information out of grunts using whatever method was possible. Doc pushed for him to use more extreme methods at times, as Doc was still in the early stages of beginning to understand the machinations of this world. He needed any piece of information that he could get, especially if it meant getting one step closer to understanding Hank’s disappearance. Doc saw it as a necessary period in their journey, but Sanford holds a repressed but deep resentment for Doc, because it warped and traumatised him immensely.
It resulted in him becoming extremely tense, paranoid and harshly pushing grunts away. Subsequently, Sanford didn’t get along with anyone else that Doc paired him up with. Putting the trauma aside, Sanford was already a serious and withdrawn individual who disliked banter. Not the most approachable or likeable grunt. Others would quickly lose their patience with him and were more prone to desertion or disobedience. While Doc could ignore it for a while, it gradually worsened as more and more jobs required a second hand, especially when Doc needed information retrieved from computer terminals - a skill Sanford distinctly did not have. 
So, recalling someone he briefly knew in the AAHW, Doc got Sanford to round up some dissented AAHW members to assimilate into their ranks. One of these members was Deimos, whom Doc recognised and personally hand-picked to work alongside him to better foster and integrate his hacking skills. Deimos was exceptionally useful for Doc despite having a pretty rocky history in the AAHW, and if anything, Doc was pretty surprised he was still alive. Regardless, Doc paired him up with Sanford after a while, and Sanford did not enjoy it. He found Deimos rather annoying and just another dumbass in a long string of grunts Doc has picked up. Yet Deimos seemed different somehow. His unflinching and incorrigible charm slowly worked its way into Sanford’s mind, especially when he realised he actually enjoyed the guy's company. Deimos showed an interest in the hobbies that Sanford was usually mocked or looked down on for, and while he was a little careless, it felt nice to watch out for someone rather than watch another self-important idiot rush ahead. 
Deimos further garnered Sanford’s interest when he learned a bit more about his insecurities and doubts, learning that clones exist. Sanford has questioned his existence in certain ways, regarding his own blood-stained hands with conflicted contempt and satisfaction, but this? Deimos telling Sanford that he isn’t sure that he’s alive, that he’s actually a ‘person’? That he’s lost, scared, clueless, alone? Sanford’s never cared for much before, living in this half-dissociated, emotionally distant state, but something stirs when he tries and kind of fails to comfort Deimos in that moment. He… cares. For something. For someone. A cold fortress that Sanford has built for so long, slowly opening itself to the idea of wanting someone. The pain and trauma remain, and it will never go away, but there is a new reason to get up in the morning. To look forward to something. 
From that day on, an understanding began to form between the two, bringing them closer and closer together. To the point that Deimos starts glimpsing the cracks in Sanford’s facade, worming his way in closer and closer, chasing the rare smile and laugh that Deimos can elicit from him. Sanford is the first time he’s ever felt stability, kindness, patience, acknowledgement. But he realises it's not just that, it's not just chasing something to fulfill something he’s always wanted but never got, it’s because he likes Sanford. Roaming the wastelands of Nevada alongside Sanford has given him joy like he’s never known. Knowing that Sanford has got his back, and that Deimos can help, and truly mean something… It’s like something clicked one day. 
Summarising/simplifying it, Sanford is like stability. Serious, steadfast, put-together and a leader. The trauma of doing what had to be done and hating yourself for it. For the kindness you could have had. The peace you lost or perhaps never knew. Forced to adapt and harden yourself, but the stress never truly went away. The fear and worry you have for your loved ones. The paranoia of losing them, witnessing the mortality of those dearest to you. But finding love and joy again in the people around you, letting someone touch the part of you that you swore you’d never let be hurt again. And you feel kindness and love and joy in the silly things again, thanks to Deimos. 
With Deimos, it’s smiling despite how the world has hurt you, set you up to fail. The vices you adapt to cope, but there remains a desire to do better, to be better. The yearning to be something more, to be someone else, but you can only ever be the best version of yourself. Wanting to be loved and yet not loving yourself, neglecting your body and mind. But having someone so patient and steadfast in their love for you just makes you feel so thankful. I’m sorry I relapsed again. Do you still love me? And Sanford does. He always will. The passion and joy you hold close to your heart, that you will never let anyone take away from you, living carefree and silly. 
Okay! Now to the actual. Design talk, jesus christ. Let’s begin with the general shape language of the two and how they’re specifically designed to contrast and complement one another. 
Deimos is comprised of rounder shapes, is on the smaller/shorter side compared to Sanford, and is a little scruffier and messier in appearance. He’s lean but not skinny, well-defined in the legs and in generally decent shape considering his lifestyle (a lot of snacks). This is paired against Sanford’s much broader and larger stature, sporting well-muscled arms and the repetition of more rounded square shapes. He’s tidy, well-groomed and maintains his body and scars very well. While I didn’t push their poses too hard here, they also further establish and contrast their personalities. Deimos has a more open and overconfident pose while Sanford stands a little more rigid and alert, and is the only character to be looking to the right rather than the left. 
Sanford has heavy-set, thick eyebrows that help convey a stern seriousness to him, but when his expression looks gentle and warm, they accentuate a certain charming quality that I think he has. While his face can look grave and even frightening, Sanford can also look quite gentle and sweet, and I think the eyebrows really help with that.
Sanford has a lot more scars because he’s been employed and working for Doc a fair bit longer than Deimos, and he ends up fighting hand-to-hand more often than him. Deimos is longer range, handles hacking/communications and is usually doing more runner-esque jobs. He sometimes trips and scuffles, especially because his bag is so heavy, hence why he’s got all those little bandages on him. I like to think Sanford is the one who patches him up. 
I ended up not integrating every scar into their designs because a lot of them are incurred around MC9, which is sort of like the “cutting off point” for when shit goes south. Deimos becomes Rockmos, and Sanford becomes owww my eyes! So it doesn’t make a ton of sense to have them, so I only kept the ones from before MC9. Besides the stab wound on Sanford’s torso, I just liked how that one looked.
When it came to designing their clothes (or well, designing my take on them; this time I’ve not really added anything that didn’t already exist for either of them) my main philosophy was that Sanford was more practical and uniform-esque in his attire, whereas Deimos is more sloppy but radiates a lot more individuality. 
Everything that Sanford wears has a specific purpose, from the belts on his pants acting as anchor points for his hook to the bandolier on his chest and his thick, heavy combat boots. The only real “personal” details are his bandanna (which I use to accentuate his expressions), his teashades (which were more or less given to him “by” Deimos), and his hook (which is a weapon, but nonetheless one he seems attached to/is a recurring tool for him). As well as the tattoo on his back, but I’ll touch on that later. When it all comes together, it illustrates Sanford as someone who is prepared and capable, but very serious and with few personal touches. 
Conversely, Deimos is covered with various bits and pieces that are personal to him, whether modified by himself or simply worn in a particular style to reflect what he likes. Smaller examples of this are his uneven socks and his untucked shirt that has a few stains and rips.
His shoes were directly based on the live-action design, as I think this is a fantastic portrayal of Deimos’ personality. From the little artistic doodles to the likely bored number markings, to the silly labels distinguishing the right shoe from the left shoe. The cigarette at the heel with the clusters of grunts and Jeb feels oddly endearing, like Deimos was inspired by a moment in MPN and wanted to draw it. The fire drawn along the base of the shoe is adorable, and the EAT IT at the front with BYE BYE at the back is so wonderfully vindictive and mischievous it’s amazing. 
And the star of the show, at least to me, is Deimos’ radio backpack. One thing I think I could have done better is add more charms onto it, but I’m sure I can add a ton more down the line when I get some ideas, cus annoyingly I don’t have too many. I always imagine the bag as going clink clink clink whenever he walks, and I dunno, it's cute and I think Deimos would cram as much as possible onto his bag to reflect both his interests and so he doesn’t get bored. 
Regardless, the backpack is like his lifeline of usefulness to SQ, but leaving it the way it was when Doc gave it to him was so lame. Deimos wanted to give it his personal flair, attach pieces of his life to it, make it truly “his.” Many of the little buttons and stitches were done by him and reflect members of the SQ, like the smiley on Hank’s shirt and the fishing lure for Sanford. Where’s Doc, then? Well, I would like to think I can design something specific for him on Deimos’ bag, but he actually helped with the big patch on the backside of the backpack. If you look closely, it has the same stitch markings as the ones on Doc’s jacket. Deimos really struggled with getting it on, and Doc came over like, you made this? And Deimos replies with a stilted, uneasy “yeah.” When Doc hands the bag back to him, he goes, “It’s pretty funny. Not bad.” and I like to think rare praise from Doc makes him feel warm.  
Krinkels has said Sanford’s tattoo doesn’t have a specific meaning, and I would like to give it one, but I haven’t gotten any ideas yet. Despite that, Deimos’ tattoo actually does, although it's not super complex or deep. I personally enjoy the headcanon that clones are coded with a tattoo-like marking that usually appears on the neck, but sometimes can appear on arms or legs. But Deimos didn’t want Sanford to remove or draw over it entirely; instead, he retained it as a reminder of who he was and how he wouldn’t hide from that reality, but he would move forward from it. To that point, the arrow underneath. To fly forward, guided by the sturdy bowstring, carefree and unbound by the wind. And the red bolt? Well, that’s a personal detail I’m a little shy about explaining, but I at least think it adds a nice little accent of colour. 
Smaller notes: 
Deimos’ thumb gradient is darker because he specifically lights his thumb more than any other digit. I think he could light other digits, but it takes more effort and focus. He generally thinks doing a thumbs up is funnier, and it’s easier to light a cig that way.
The multiple bullet scars on Deimos’ stomach are meant to parallel his injuries in MC9, but they’re not the same for the reasons I mentioned earlier. This similarly applies to a scar that Sanford has on his right hand, referencing when he was shot in MC9.
I removed the front belt from Deimos’ backpack because I liked his shirt and coat being unobstructed, and it let me properly show the drawstrings. I also liked the idea that he can remove the heavy bag in dire situations. While Doc probably thinks the tech inside Deimos’ backpack is more valuable, perhaps it has a self-destruct function that Deimos can remotely activate. Retrieving someone from the Other Place is also probably more resource-demanding and time-consuming anyway. I might change it, but for now, I like this version. 
I quite like mist-lightning-snap’s paw and claw headcanons for grunts, so I applied the same principle to Deimos. As to Sanford? Who knows… maybe those black nails can pop out into claws?
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akazzzaa · 1 year ago
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Were / are they a Virgin?
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Summery- Where they a virgin when they where humans? are they still ?
Genre- Smut. MDNI
Warnings- Talks of sex, masturbation.
Human Muzan
Was a virgin- He didn’t get married. He had a wealthy family but never found a wife. He was born with a frail body so even if he did have a wife-he couldn't. Or at least it would be very bad experience putting sex off for him. Although he never had a big “desire” to have sex- he still was curious about it and often masturbated as a human.
Demon Muzan
Not a virgin- Don't really need to explain- but he's had sex a lot. He likes it, but can live without it. He has other things to focus on so he doesn't seek sex a lot. Sex does come naturally to him though anyway. He's a 'young' good looking man after all. Who often manipulates women and people to get what he wants. If he has to play Husband and a Oiran, he will.
He has also had sex in his female form.
Human Kokushibo
Not a virgin-His first and last was with his wife. He had a duty as a man to produce heirs and that was it to him. He did like sex, but was very insecure. He was emotionally unavailable I suppose, and never expressed himself.
Demon kokushibo
Virgin. He remembers his past life and know how sex works, but he doesn’t see humans as equals- only as cattle. He’s not opposed to it though, he’s seen plenty of humans that are pleasing to the eye and would like to indulge in. But never acted on it.
Human Douma
Not a virgin. Was never married or had plans to - but he was good looking and had different features that made him more 'exotic' so a lot of people where curious, and so was he. He didn't have a lot of sex due to being so busy - only problem he faced was that people fell in love with him after they had sex. He never felt that.
Daemon Douma
Not a virgin. He has toyed with men and women and finds it entertaining, plus it does feels good. People who have had sex with him don't really live to tell anyone else. There are a few who live. Doesn't actively seek sex but he can tell when a humans wants him. He will also use the art of seduction to get what he wants too.
Human Akaza
Virgin. He was planning on marring Koyuki and was waiting for their special night. He never thought he would- having tattoos of a criminal over his body has made him feel worthless so he had a lot of doubt about finding love. Him and Koyuki had kissed a lot but that's as far as it went.
Demon Akaza
Double virgin. He never feels the desire for sex. He only wants to get stronger. All he does is follows Muzans orders, train and eat.
Human Hantengu
Not a virgin- Has had wife's. No idea if any kids have come out of it but there where attempts.
Demon Hantengu
Virgin? Maybe the lust clone has had sex but the other clones and himself? Virgins.
Human Gyokko
Virgin
Demon Gyokko
DOUBLE VIRGIN
Human Gyutaro
Virgin. Women would scream at the sight of him. Not only because he was ugly but had bad hygiene, malnourished and weak. He was fighting everyday of his life. Never thought about it.
Demon Gyutaro
Virgin. Only as a demon he got curious and had the desire for it, he hasn't tried to have sex cause he know he will just get laughed at which will result in someone's death.
Human Nakime
Not a virgin. She had a husband in her human life but never had kids with him.
Demon Nakime
Virgin. Doesn't have the desire to have sex.
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