#not yet anyways. maybe it will be later.

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

normally, i'm not one to claim to be particularly good at creating original designs. i'm working on improving that, but i still don't really think i'm at that point yet.

however, there is one element of my solaris' design that i do really adore. if not for the way that it looks visually, then for its narrative purpose.

i think that solaris has a prosthetic beneath her eye. if you don't want the socket to collapse, it's pretty much essential to have one. if you took off the patch, there would still be something there.

but i like to keep it on when i draw her. because of the branding. the zoraxis insignia.

it is very clear to me- to just about anyone, really- that solaris and zor don't seem to get along. zor doesn't indulge her personal projects, despite that being the reason she agreed to work under them in the first place. solaris is curt and insubordinate with them- despite knowing full well what they're capable of. zor doesn't give her the proper resources to live healthily on the death engine. solaris abandons them the first chance she gets.

it's a give and take. both of them prodding and pestering and snarling at one another. they stay with each other out of necessity. really, it's the only explanation... zor has 'fired' lesser employees over matters far more trivial than what solaris has demonstrated.

but, when you take the death engine into consideration, everything gets turned on its face.

to me, i think the death engine was a critical turning point in their relationship. a dramatic change for the worse. solaris is quite confident in her abilities as an engineer- and why shouldn't she be, with all that she's shown to have made?

but zor exploits any weakness they can find. they seek out weaknesses specifically to pick people apart- hell, they did it with prism before they had any clue how much she was worth. and the death engine's failure was more than a weakness.

solaris' eyepatch- the zoraxis insignia stitched into it- is a cattle brand. it's a turning point in their dynamic. solaris has failed, and as a result, she has lost what power she held over them. she is no longer of better use to them alive than she is dead.

post the death engine, talking out of turn becomes lethal. asking for too much becomes lethal. taking up too much space. thinking for herself. zor doesn't need her anymore.

which means- as much as she loathes it- she has to bow her head, hold her tongue, and defer. the death engine took her eye from her, but zor took away whatever remained of her pride.

[deoidesign]

Doing master studies the only way I know how: Stealing them and making them my guys.

(Barberini Faun)

(The Fallen Angel - Alexandre Cabanel)

(Covent Garden - William Bruce Ellis Rankin)

[ohitslen]

Something other about his eyes

Bonus! Based on this quick thing I did this afternoon and the idea took a bit more shape and turned into that thing from above uEK

[yudol-skorbi]

and what if i go insane

[13eyond13]

the way they're saying I need to kill you yet also hello my love all at once here lmao

[nattikay]

OC lineup! All the characters that currently exist in this "story"

[fujii-draws]

“Ohh Bidoof has a Journal!” “Sunflora has a Diary if you go into her room”— WHAT ABOUT PARTNER???

[wasyago]

IGNEOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! im actually so obsessed with drawing this guy. it's too fun ough ougb ough

[brother-emperors]

BROTHERS

The river Weser ran between the Roman and Cheruscan forces. Arminius came to the bank and halted with his fellow chieftains:— "Had the Caesar come?" he inquired.​ On receiving the reply that he was in presence, he asked to be allowed to speak with his brother. That brother, Flavus by name, was serving in the army, a conspicuous figure both from his loyalty and from the loss of an eye through a wound received some few years before during Tiberius' term of command. Leave was granted, and Stertinius took him down to the river. Walking forward, he was greeted by Arminius; who, dismissing his own escort, demanded that the archers posted along our side of the stream should be also withdrawn. When these had retired, he asked his brother, whence the disfigurement of his face? On being told the place and battle, he inquired what reward he had received. Flavus mentioned his increased pay, the chain, the crown, and other military decorations; Arminius scoffed at the cheap rewards of servitude.

They now began to argue from their opposite points of view. Flavus insisted on "Roman greatness, the power of the Caesar; the heavy penalties for the vanquished; the mercy always waiting for him who submitted himself. Even Arminius' wife and child were not treated as enemies." His brother urged "the sacred call of their country; their ancestral liberty; the gods of their German hearths; and their mother, who prayed, with himself, that he would not choose the title of renegade and traitor to his kindred, to the kindred of his wife, to the whole of his race in fact, before that of their liberator." From this point they drifted, little by little, into recriminations; and not even the intervening river would have prevented a duel, had not Stertinius run up and laid a restraining hand on Flavus, who in the fullness of his anger was calling for his weapons and his horse. On the other side Arminius was visible, shouting threats and challenging to battle: for he kept interjecting much in Latin, as he had seen service in the Roman camp as a captain of native auxiliaries.

Tacitus Annals 2.10-11

there's a lot going on in there! Arminius switching to Latin is a detail that always makes me feel a deep kind of sadness, especially with how it's preceded by mention of their mother. I wonder what she thought of what became of her sons, on opposite sides of everything but still, inescapably, brothers. even when they want to kill each other. there sure are a lot of fucked up and unhappy brothers around. and Arminius asking about Flavus' injury............I also had a whole thing typed out about the horror of imperialism and colonization and the trauma of assimilation but I think this sets the tone better

Rome's Greatest Defeat: Massacre in the Teutoburg Forest, Adrian Murdoch

and also this, just for fun

(ibid)

this post is already a mile long, so lets add another mile to it: a little scene at the start of their conversation! tfw you go in for a hug and your younger brother who also ended up being taller starts roasting your hair style

bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost ⭐ cara.app⭐ko-fi

[mamawasatesttube]

ooooo timkon w “Can you just hold me?” or “You look like you need a hug." for the ficlet thing :3

Kon's hair is a frizzy mess.

That's the first red flag. Kon is ridiculously vain when he wants to be, with a whole hair care shower routine, silken pillowcases, and an array of curl creams and whatnot that he had to explain to Tim twice before any of it stuck in his head properly. Tim teases him for it now and then, but he knows it's because Kon doesn't like people seeing him at anything but his best. Kon got too used to being picked apart on camera for that.

So the fact that his hair is unkempt and mussed as he lets himself in from the balcony is... concerning.

Even more concerning is the way he barely even looks at Tim before he throws himself at the bed, flopping face-down with an oof. The balcony door closes itself behind him like an afterthought, and he heaves a huge, melancholy sigh.

"Kon?" Tim pushes away from his desk, trotting over to the bedside. Kon's legs are sticking off, and Tim shakes his head fondly as he reaches down to tug Kon's boots off. "Long day, huh?"

The first boot comes off in his hands; the second follows almost instantaneously. Kon lifts his head from the duvet to give him a slightly sheepish look over his shoulder, apologetic, before he drops his face back down with a thump.

"I'm tired," he mumbles. And he sounds like it. There isn't even a hint of a smile in his voice.

Tim crawls onto the bed next to him, rests his hand comfortingly at the small of his back. "What happened?"

Kon hisses out another sigh into the duvet. "Someone tried to—and don't get your knickers in a twist, I'm fine—but someone tried to dissect me today. Again."

Alarm jolts through Tim's whole body; his hands immediately start roaming Kon's torso, probing for wounds. "What?! Are you hurt—"

"I just said, I'm fine, Rob." Kon sounds a little wry as he rolls onto his back. "Jeez. What happened to your listening skills?"

He catches one of Tim's wrists and holds it to his chest, over his heart; Tim can see the sliver of an incision, cut right into the center of the S-shield emblazoned on his chest. He can't tell if it cut the skin beneath or not, but at least he doesn't see any blood.

The tiny smile on Kon's face fades, and Tim softens, studying him. Now that he can look properly, he can see the telltale signs that Kon cried, earlier; his cheeks are a little blotchy, his eyes slightly reddened. An eyelash is stuck to the delicate skin just below his eye.

"Some... ugh. They were some, like, Cadmus-wannabes. Total bozos, though. They had a red sun lamp, but no metagene suppressant, so." Kon shrugs, discontented. "They didn't even use the energy restraints like that time with Amanda Spence, like—c'mon, at least do your basic research if you're gonna try to vivisect a guy, right?" He snorts humorlessly. "I got out fine, took it down, called the S.C.U., it's whatever. I'm just... I'm so tired, Tim," and his voice cracks on Tim's name.

"Kon," he murmurs, leaning down. He presses their foreheads together, his chest aching. He'll have to check the news, find out from reports who exactly was behind this, because... it shouldn't matter, since it's already taken care of, but something inside him burns at the thought that anyone, anywhere, could put such a bone-deep sorrow into Kon's eyes.

"I'm so tired of people acting like I'm—like I'm not a person just 'cuz I hatched outta some stupid tube in a lab." Kon's eyes are too bright. He squeezes them shut and takes a shaky breath. "Like—what do I gotta do, y'know? How do you just—how do you even get through to people who're so convinced clones aren't people? I'm a person, too! I just... I..."

Tim very briefly debates the ethics of breaking into Stryker's just so he can hit someone with his staff. Or his car.

"I'm... really sorry you had to deal with that," he says instead, lamely. It's cold comfort, and awkward, and—

And it makes Kon laugh, watery but real. He blinks his teary-bright eyes up at Tim, brushes a gloved hand to his cheek. "You're mad as hell right now, aren't you?"

Tim smiles ruefully and presses his lips to Kon's jaw. "You caught me." Another kiss, to the corner of Kon's mouth. "I just—I hate that I can't do anything to fix this kinda thing for you. You don't deserve it."

"Mm." Kon takes a second to collect himself, swallows hard, and breathes out slowly. "You do more than you realize, I think. Can you just—can you just hold me? For a little while?"

Tim flops down on top of him immediately, wraps his arms around his head and neck, and smushes his face into Kon's hair. It would probably be more comfortable if they were side-by-side and facing each other, but the advantage of this position is that—

Kon laughs again, soft and fond. His voice is still a little thick, but he's smiling now. "Is that comfy for you...?"

"Kinda." Tim kisses his temple, too. "You smell like smoke."

"Mmf, sorry." Kon sighs again. "And I got it all over the bed now, too, huh..."

"S'okay. We can just grab a different blanket later." Tim scrunches his fingers through Kon's hair until they hit a tangle. "...Want me to wash your hair for you?"

Kon's arms tighten around him, and suddenly he seems like he needs a moment before he can respond. Tim doesn't rush him.

"Yeah," Kon croaks out after a moment, his voice suspiciously wet. "Yeah, Robbie. I'd like that a lot."

[todayisafridaynight]

journalists underestimate the magnitude of my addiction and how far i'll go for the bit

[mirykka]

dunmeshi sticker designs

[sluckythewizard]

[PUT INTO PLACE, TIED DOWN AND ARRANGED, AND IS NEVER THE SAME, AGAIN.]<-listen to my favorite songs. VAMPIRES ARE WONDERFUL ARENT THEY. THE FLESH IS SO MUCH MORE DURABLE. SO MUCH STRETCHIER THAN HUMANS. THE STRESS DOESNT KILL A VAMPIRE THE SAME WAY IT DOES A HUMAN. YOU CAN TAKE THEM APART THREAD BY THREAD AND LEAVE THEM WIDE AWAKE WITHOUT WORRY OF THE BRAINMATTER SPOILING UNDER VINEGARY AGONY.

[babacontainsmultitudes]

*breathes* Okay I finally listened to the teen talk proper, no longer just specific clips and reading other people's summaries of things, and can I just say I wish I'd done this a week ago, cause I definitely feel better about some things now, and it's a pretty entertaining teen talk overall (since this episode is available on the site anyways I'll probably clip some specific bits soon to highlight!). Regarding Sparrow and Norm specifically there's definitely more nuance to what is actually said than what a lot of the recaps/paraphrasing I've seen here had me thinking (for one as a Sparrow freak with a lot of Opinions, knowing that Will immediately follows the bit on Normal's interpretation of the love wolf scene with "but that's not necessarily right cause that's not necessarily what Sparrow is feeling" would have spared me a lot of psychic damage, personally, but also on the topic of Normal's future I mean I'll still be picking and choosing from what was said I won't pretend I love all of it but I think the whole discussion and depiction of it is more nuanced and optimistic than much of what I've seen on that front too). You might expect that I, Baba "I like overtly disagreeing with popular fandom opinions" C. Multitudes would think twice before taking fandom interpretations of something for granted, but I didn't, so honestly fuck me I guess. Still side-eyeing a lot of fandom takes but Will Campos you are free to go 😌. Otherwise Matt's discussion of the gothcleats in the epilogue and everything Will had to say about Nicky gave me life, but I'll clip that stuff soon like I said and *maybe* say more on some of that then lol.

[ask-zacharies-snackarie]

Okay that poll was 100% yes so :)

[blutpop]

something about...... a coward prussian twink

(my interpretation)