#omn anime

[lichqueenlibrarian]

I’m sorry but that description of Spock is very sexy, I’m afraid I don’t make the rules here.

[yukis-tasks]

I love how Solomon just wants to explore the murder mystery, but the game keeps forcing the romance lol 😆🤣

Side note, but Asmo can really pull everything 💕 💗

Obey Me! Anime - Season 2

[ehj3]

MACHINA EX: TRISTE EST

“Robots want to love us because the field of artificial intelligence has programmed robots to say they want to love us” —Professor Sherry Turkle “Omne animal post coitum triste” is a Latin proverb meaning “All animals are sad after sex.” The robot couple here seems to be “post coitum” but only their human masks are “triste.” Only their human disguises show symptoms of postcoital dysphoria, the…

[rassicas]

Return of the Mammalians Log.exe, retranslated

There’s a handful of differences between the ENG and JP version of the secret final Alterna Log, Log.exe. Much of it is fine, but there’s a few things in the localization that I think are...not great. I’ll talk about it at the end I reused some of the wording in the localization that I thought was close enough to the JP, and some of it I rewrote. ok translation under the cut

Return of the Mammalians There were those of humankind who gave up on the desolate Earth. They placed many surviving animals in a cold sleep, put them on a spaceship- the Ark Polaris- and set it off into space. The mission: to search for a new planet to replace the Earth.

The Polaris had a smooth voyage...until it reached the edge of the solar system. It was at that point that debris struck the vessel, damaging its navigation system. The crew was able to turn the ship around and and head back toward Earth, but the effort was in vain-there was not enough fuel to attempt a landing. The Ark Polaris drifted in Earth’s orbit for over 10,000 years.

Eons passed. The once-stable orbit of the Polaris decayed over time until the ship found itself in the inescapable pull of the Earth's gravity. All the humans and animals aboard perished, save one. Bear #03, an experimental subject who had retained consciousness within his cold hibernation, miraculously survived. For 12,000 years he had been thinking, dreaming of the planet he would emigrate to. From this, he gained a very high level of intelligence.

Upon waking, Bear #03 discovers that he had not landed on a new planet at all. He was back on Earth. An Earth dominated by marine life, with not a single mammal in sight.

In the course of his search for a single fellow mammal, Bear #03 used navigational equipment from the wreckage of the Ark Polaris to discover Alterna, located deep within the Crater. Its inhabitants had gone extinct, but upon examining the facilities, he discovered that the thoughts of humanity were burned into the liquid crystals covering the inner walls of Alterna. Thus, Bear #03 repaired Alterna's facilities and began researching the crystals...

This research bore fruit when Bear #03 compounded some of the liquid crystals with his own fur. The experiment created an entirely new substance capable of transforming any living creature into a mammal. As the only surviving mammal, He decided it was his job to restore mammals to the Earth. He aimed to mammalianize all life by using Alterna’s rocket to spread Fuzzy Ooze from the sky.

Bear #03 set out to gather Golden Eggs, indispensable in both the creation of the Fuzzy Ooze and for launching the rocket. For this, he took on the name of Mr. Grizz and founded Grizzco Industries.

Thanks to the assistance of unsuspecting Inklings and Octolings, Bear #03 secured a massive quantity of Golden Eggs. He was ready to take the final steps to set his plan in motion...

My comments:

-The “plotting and dreaming” line bugged the hell out of me, because “plotting” has some connotation of an “evil long term plan”, and Grizz had no motivation to carry out his mammal restoration plan until AFTER he woke up. The JP version is more clear about what he was dreaming about, and it doesn’t sound as evil. -the paragraphs about Grizz discovering Alterna and Fuzzy Ooze are interesting in how they’re a bit different from the ENG version. Not a fan of the “mammalian paradise!” line I thought it sounded kind of like a idiotic cartoon supervillain there. I mean he kind of is and his plan fucking sucks, but the original line makes his motivations sound a bit more reasonable-taken-to-an-insane-extreme rather than just cartoonishly insane. JP Grizz sounds more level-headed and deep in thought. -I invite you to compare the second to last paragraph, as the changes in this part are what inspired me to retranslate this. The localization left out the crucial information that the eggs are rocket fuel, and instead added in some fluff about ORCA being not-so-omniscient that wasn’t present in the original.

[headspace-hotel]

Musics

Casey Sabol- Flora and Fauna

Jonsi- Stars in Still Water

Philip Lober- Clockwater

Crywolf- Abbadon

Autoheart- Factories

Hauschka- Subconscious

Mr FijiWiji- Thought Police

Paraphon Tree- Macro Worm

Tender- Handmade Ego

M83- Walkway Blues

Badflower- Move Me

Mat Kearney- Ships in the Night

EDEN- 909

The Postal Service- The District Sleeps Alone Tonight

Crywolf- Fallout

Halocraft- Chains for the Sea

Thomas Bergersen- Into Darkness

Message to Bears- Two Finds Two

Needtobreathe- Prisoner

Sadistik- Gallows Hill

Bloodywood- Dana Dan

Oh Hiroshima- Holding Rivers

Leonard Cohen- You Want it Darker

Twisted Jukebox- The Witch and the Butterfly

Astronautalis- The Wondersmith and his Sons

Koste- Satellite

Oceans of Slumber- To the Sea

Roy Blair- California

Nothing but Thieves- Afterlife

OMN- In Quiet Rooms

Everything Everything- The Wheel is Turning Now

Zack Hemsey- Nice to Meet Me

If Only the Trees- Disappear

Lost Society- Stitches

Stormzy- Dreamers Disease

Vancouver Sleep Clinic- Unworthy

ODDKO- Disobey

Sadistik- God Complex

Def Leppard- Have You Ever Needed Someone So Bad

Joywave- Nice House

Example- Midnight Run

In This Moment- Half God Half Devil

Des Rocs- Suicide Romantics

Missio- Cry Baby

In This Moment- Mother

The Pretty Reckless- Absolution

Missio- Sing to Me

Crywolf- Fawn

Grandson- Stigmata

Freelance Whales- Broken Horse

Hammock- Things of Beauty Burn

Koda- Angel

Nothing but Thieves- Tempt You

Needtobreathe- Wasteland

Apashe- Fake News

Crywolf- Anachronism

Induction- Queen of Light

The Crucifix- Cursed Birth

Poison- Every Rose Has Its Thorn

Powerwolf- Sanctified with Dynamite

Hammock- Wasted We Stared at the Ceiling

The Correspondents- Inexplicable

ODDKO- Censorship

Nita Strauss- The Wolf You Feed

Cats Never Die - Field

Two Steps from Hell- Away with Your Fairies

DROELOE- Lilypads

Greybloom- Sage

NEFFEX- Bite Me

Cosmo Sheldrake- Wriggle

The Black Dog- Neither/Neither

Dan Deacon- When I Was Done Dying

Marcus Warner- Liberation

Rage Against the Machine- Calm like a Bomb

Arizona- Nostalgic

The Animals- House of the Rising Sun

Nine Inch Nails- The Hand that Feeds

Crywolf- beauty is not a need, she is an ecstasy (respirate)

Two Steps from Hell- Amaria

These have nothing in common except that I like them. Have fun

[evolia7]

DA RECITARE IL SABATO

INDULGENZE CONCESSE ALL’ANTICA ORAZIONE “PIETATE TUA”

DA RECITARE PER QUATTRO SABATI CONSECUTIVI_

Papa Leone XII, il 9 Luglio 1828, concesse quaranta giorni di Indulgenza a tutti coloro che reciteranno la seguente Orazione.

Concesse inoltre CENTO ANNI (non giorni!) o cento quarantene, quando si recita tutti i sabati del mese.

PREMESSA:

Che meraviglioso tesoro che la Santa Chiesa ci dona, e con la quale possiamo liberare tantissime Anime dal Purgatorio dalle dolorose sofferenze che patiscono anche per lunghissimi anni!

Un di’ in punto di morte capiremo quali enormi vantaggi avremo ottenuto per la nostra anima, con l’applicazione di tali indulgenze alle Anime Purganti.

ORAZIONE:

Ti preghiamo, o Signore, che Tu voglia nella tua infinita misericordia scioglierci dai nostri peccati, e per l’intercessione della Beatissima Vergine Madre di Dio Maria, degli Apostoli Pietro e Paolo e di tutti i Santi, degnati conservare noi tuoi servi, i nostri paesi e le nostre abitazioni in perfetta santita’; purificare tutti i nostri parenti, amici e conoscenti da ogni peccato, e glorificarli con ogni virtu’; darci la salute e la pace; allontanar da noi tutti i nostri nemici visibili ed invisibili; frenare i desideri della carne, conservare la sanita’ dell’aria, accordare la santa carita’ tanto ai nostri amici, quanto ai nemici; difendere la nostra citta’ ( o paese ); conservare il nostro Sommo Pastore il Papa N.N., tutti i nostri superiori spirituali, i Principi, e difendere da ogni disgrazia tutto il popolo cristiano.

La tua santa benedizione riposi sempre sopra di noi, e a tutti i fedeli defunti concedi la pace perpetua, per Gesù Cristo Nostro Signore.

Così sia.

CONSIDERAZIONI:

Per molti aspetti questa antica Orazione sembra attualissima, ma quello che colpisce in modo particolare sono i CENTO ANNI di Indulgenza concessi a tutti coloro che la reciteranno tutti i sabati del mese.

Se pensiamo che talune anime giacciono da centinaia di anni tra le fiamme del Purgatorio e che puo’ bastare una preghiera come questa, recitata ovviamente nelle condizioni di animo previste dalla Chiesa, a liberarle finalmente da quel luogo di tormento, dovrebbe spronarci a recitarla tutti i sabati ( due minuti appena), ben sapendo poi dell’immenso dono che potremo fare a queste anime cosi’ sofferenti da lunghissimo tempo, e ai benefici che ne ricaveremo per le nostre anime soprattutto nel giorno del giudizio!

PER CHI VOLESSE PREGARLA IN LATINO:

PIETATE tua, quaesumus, Domine, nostrorum solve vincula peccatorum, et intercedente beata semperque Virgine Dei Genetrice Maria cum beato Ioseph ac beatis Apostolis tuis Petro et Paulo et omnibus Sanctis, nos famulos tuos et loca nostra in omni sanctitate custodi; omnes consanguinitate, affinitate ac familiaritate nobis coniunctos a vitiis purga, virtutibus illustra; pacem et salutem nobis tribue; hostes visibiles et invisibiles remove; carnalia desideria repelle: aerem salubrem indulge; amicis et inimicis nostris caritatem largire; Urbem tuam custodi; Pontificem nostrum N. conserva; omnes Praelatos, Principes cunctumque populum christianum ab omni adversitate defende. Benedictio tua sit super nos semper, et omnibus fidelibus defunctis requiem aeternam concede.

Amen

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fuegoleon Vermillion/Solara Equinox, Fuegoleon Vermillion/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Fuegoleon Vermillion, Solara Equinox, Mereoleona Vermillion, Leopold Vermillion, Zera Cassia, Josele Canty, Acylla Rhyne, Briar Rose, Neva Belmonte Additional Tags: Mafia AU, Modern AU, Eventual Smut, Romance, Flirty, Romantic Tension, Smut, Canon Divergent Summary:

Solara has a visitor from her past. Achlys

[isabeauwolf]

My interests/ things I never shut up about:

Obey Me/OMN

Twst

Kresley Cole books

Supernatural

The Apothecary Diaries

Pride and Prejudice

My MHA OC Mary (drawn by @kurumi-igarashi! All credit goes to her!)

MDZS

Predator

Bram Stokers Dracula

The Mummy

Writing

Manga

Anime

Spicy novels/LNS

Yaoi

Trafalgar Law

Overhaul

Hannibal

Wolves

Raven of The Inner Palace

O.U.A.T

Wolf's Rain

Trinity Blood

True Blood

Hakuouki

Fanfics

WHB

[measlyfurball13]

Omnes Affectus Valetis

Summary: four Marines reflect on the paths they've chosen.

2445 words.

I.

There is a part of this Marine that understands what he is doing is wrong. 

A vague twinge, sometimes, beneath his chestplate. Times where the blood seeps into his boots. Something in a symbol glints the wrong way, and the fraction of his mind that it still evolved from an animal thinks to tremble before it. 

But that is before his friends grab his shoulderplates and pull him back to the dropship, jostling him against his brothers where they slam their helmets together. The impact, skull-to-skull, jolts his mind clear of any such worries. 

And when they return to the ship, there is revelry. The clinking of glasses, the throwing of food- when he takes his helmet off, someone shoves something into his mouth, juicy and savory and succulent. And he laughs, some of the juice spilling out of his mouth and onto his armor, but that’s alright. 

He walks further into the grand interior hall. Some of his fellow brothers from the mission have already doffed the parts of their armor that are easy to pry off, and if anyone needs help dozens of hands are willing to oblige. There’s musicians playing on a makeshift stage against the far wall- one of his brother’s ideas, constructed from spare materials from the previous campaign -and as they see the returning squad, the musicians stand with a cheer.

Played on hand-stringed bows and hand-carved horns, and on the one organ that’s still sort of working, thanks to some luck and a prayer, the music swells to a fast-paced swing. Couples push themselves from the table and begin to dance, the women far too small for his brothers’ arms yet they try anyway. One slips, finds her leg beneath the boot of her partner, and her shin shatters. She laughs. She’s alright, already swept off her feet by a brother, off to the medical wing. 

The Marine is tired from the mission and he sits down at the table. Someone hands him a mug and he drinks it. Sweet, metallic, with a lingering finish.

“How are you faring?” A voice asks to his left.

He turns to find an elder brother from another squadron and he replies. “Quite alright!” 

“Thirsty, I wager! Drink up, drink up, be glad that you’re alive.” The elder pushes the mug towards his chin with a smile. “But do know that you can tell us anything should you need.” 

“I appreciate it,” He takes another swig from his mug and grasps the elder’s shoulder, giving a little shake, “but with your concern, all is well.” 

“Good, good! Now go enjoy. There’s women, you know.” 

“I know, I’ve seen them.”

“Then go say hello!”

A brother walks by with his wife on his arm. She’s been broken many times, but the red lines of the repair work make her complexion even more fetching in the dim light. She’s laughing, probably at something her husband has said, as he leads her off the dance floor and disappears into the hallways beyond. 

“I think I’ll just enjoy the view for tonight.” The Marine replies to the elder. “It’s good to be home.” 

“Never forget what we fight for.” The elder concurs. He then stands and leers over to another plate laid just out of reach on the table and adds more to his plate.

The Marine finishes his mug before standing; he weaves between dancers and revelers to the edge of the ballroom, where some of his more quiet brothers are standing. They give him a nod, as they too understand. A brother breaks down crying at the center of the dance floor, his mind so overwhelmed with emotion that he must let it out. Immediately he is swarmed by comforting hands, and through the effort of the crowd he is passed off to the quieter end of the hall where he may recover. 

The Marine takes one last look upon the scene before departing the room. He is tired. The armorer is first, who makes quick work of the plating attached to him. An old injury of his acts up as the plating is removed, spilling from his side; the armorer deftly presses it back in and staples it together. 

“It’s a gift that keeps on giving.” The armorer says. “Rather. . . interdepartmental.” 

“A blessing from another chapter.” The Marine replies halfheartedly.

“Indeed.” 

And the armor is off; he is free to enter his quarters. He dims the lights, straightens his favorite bookshelf, and approaches the bathroom mirror. 

There’s something on his face he doesn't remember being there before. Red, throbbing, angry. He pokes and prods at it before his mental clarity zaps into his mind. This is the mark of those who saved him, the circled star, pointing in every direction that he may go if he so chooses. 

He falls against his bed in prayer, thanking the gods who took him from the Imperium and showed him what it was like to feel again. It was worth every price. 

II.

A lifetime ago, this Marine would be late for the ceremony. 

And as he rushes into the prayer hall, that same acute sense of shame radiates from him, spilling into the air like a thick smog, he’s sure of it. He knows there’s no punishment, but it was never the punishment that bothered him; only the perception of failure glinting in the eyes of every commander he looked up to.

But when it is his turn to kneel down in front of the statue of his god, he finds no eyes at all. Only a mouth, curved into a soft smile. A sweet air spills from its lips, cradling his face. He breathes it in. The sharp edges in his mind begin to dull. 

The part of him that still remembers looks over his shoulder. He’s the last to the altar, and his brothers are waiting on him to finish. But before he can stand, a brilliant shimmer erupts from the statue’s skin. 

Rest, it tells him. There is always time. 

He presses his face against the statue. It’s soft and cold, soothing the heat of shame from his face. 

“Sometimes I worry.” He whispers into the statue’s skin. “That I do not deserve this.” 

My gift is for everyone, the statue whispers back, no matter how long it takes to spread. 

“Thank you.”

Something gives way beneath the flesh, and baptism rains down onto his head, running into his eyes and mouth. When he rises again and turns to find his seat amongst the congregation, his brothers begin to cheer. He smiles at them. When he sits, the others put their hands on him. One starts to get a little ahead of himself and licks his fingers when he pulls away. No one chastises this one, only gives him a small chuckle for his impatience. 

And as the ceremony begins, the Marine’s world loses its edges. The sword of fear implanted in his mind by his creator lowers, and as he swells the sword fades into a pinprick. 

—

When the Marine wakes, he is back in his quarters. The calm fades. Small worries trickle in. Has he missed anything? A drill? An alarm, perhaps? 

He looks down only to find that his garments do not fit him anymore. 

Immediately he panics- he is going to fail inspection, he must be some sort of defect, a mutant, an impurity to be purged. There is no room for a brother not in tip-top shape; it is either to the medical wing to get fixed or else his geneseed must be extracted before it wastes a second longer intermixed with his pathetic DNA. . .

But then he remembers where he is. He sags forward as the adrenaline leaves him.

He looks down at his body. 

It’s. . . just a body, he realizes. And a body is a gift, one without obligation, if his growing sense of calm is to be believed. How it looks isn’t important. A low buzz fills him at the realization and a smile lightens his face. 

The Marine walks to the door of his quarters. It takes him longer than he is used to. His limbs are different, softer, bulkier. It’s as if he’s learning to walk again, in some distant memory of childhood. 

When he opens his door, outside is one of his brothers. 

“It is good to see you. How do you feel?” The brother asks. 

“I’m slower.” The Marine replies.

“That’s alright. That’s not important. How are you feeling?”

“I feel. . .” the Marine closes his eyes, “comfortable.” 

His brother wraps his arms around him. It’s a bit of a stretch, now, but that’s alright. The Marine hugs back. It’s only when their chestplates bump together that he realizes he’s still wearing his armor. 

Funny, the weight is gone. The aches of implant interfaces is no more. The armor feels like it is a second skin, not just something grafted onto him. Something distant in the back of his mind wonders if it was always supposed to feel this way, if something about him was simply broken from the start, but the more rational part of him prevails. 

This body was a gift. He will treasure it with everything he can. 

And his brother leads him to the sparring rooms, where those around him demonstrate how to make the best of his new form and share their own experiences to make him feel better. He trains as long as he needs, and when he feels ready, he is redeployed. 

There is a part of him that is still impatient, of course. He is still himself. But now he simply channels that impatience into an eagerness to spread the wonderful gift that his god has given unto the world, with no expectation of repayment.

III.

This Marine sits at his desk. He holds the letter in gloved hands- even on the verge of something so great, he would not dare stain it with his bare fingers. 

He grabs the letter opener, closes his eyes, and pictures the blade unsealing the letter’s seam with a precision no mortal hands could match. When he opens his eyes again, it is done, only a small wisp of blue energy trailing from the edge of the blade in response. 

Carefully, he pulls out the letter’s contents. 

It is a standard Imperial document, an I-800678, used across a hundred worlds. Every Departmento Processium office has millions of them, shoved on and behind every shelf, between cracks in the floor or used to stuff mattresses of the poor adepts who worked there. Unnumbered. Unsorted. 

It has taken this Marine one thousand, six hundred years and forty-four days to find this exact letter. 

He unfolds the paper. 

The name printed at the top is Beril Tantia Rebiko. 

He mouths the consonants and vowels, a preparation before he allows the name to pass from his lips. 

Beril Tantia Rebiko was born on 7/123/692/M39. She was born in the capital segment of the Hive World Moltova, and as of the issuing of this document, she worked in a factory that manufactured boots from corpse leather. 

The Marine closes his eyes and searches his mind until he can recall the scent; the stench of death as the door opened. A voice, telling him to look to the floor until she told him it was alright to look at her.

This form, the I-800678, was issued on 7/122/726/M39. 

Beril Tantia Rebiko was a single day shy of 33 years old.

Thirty-three. 

His own memory of being 33 is just as distant as the memory of her. Looking back to then is little different than looking back to when he was a child. So young. So blind. So foolish. 

. . . there was so much she would never have known, her life defined by the little box she worked to call home for the two of them. 

On the date this form was issued, she would never return home. On the date this form was issued, she would have seen the sky for the very first time, as she was marched to the spaceport. On the date this form was issued, she would be thrown upon that black ship to be consumed. 

Beril Tantia Rebiko. 

For every single year of his life until this day, he has only ever known her as “mother”. 

Something now flows within the Marine’s veins. Relief? Ecstasy? Sadness? All three roil about within him, and rather than trying to define it, he allows it to course freely. 

Carefully, he re-folds the paper and slides it back into the letter. He then encases the letter in a woven bundle of energy, before offering it to the gaping maw of the archives ahead of him. 

An unseen force grabs the bundle and pulls before slamming shut. The Marine closes his eyes and awaits judgment. 

The response that trickles into his mind is at first confusion, followed by intense pleasure. 

“Is the knowledge of her existence so rare?” He laughs. Then his smile fades. 

He is grateful that his god is pleased with the result of a journey he has been mocked for for a thousand years. But even without his god’s approval, satisfaction soars within him. 

Emboldened, he asks, “Is she still there? In the Warp?” 

Laughter trickles into his ears, and a thousand voices reply, “the only part of her that remains is within you.” 

“Good.” He whispers back. “May she never be the same.”

IV.

This Marine is free!

The sound of metal clanging on metal no longer makes him jolt!

The taste of blood and flesh no longer makes him gag!

If his purpose is to be a weapon, then why was he ever made to struggle with such things? It’s only a distant memory now, the time when he was so painfully weak. When he was wracked awake by night terrors and sung to sleep by fear. Where his superiors insisted that he rid himself of the same weakness that they themselves only hid!

Instead of pushing it down or having to overcome it or having to reason and question and twist himself into knots, it is now gone! 

The Marine cheers as he cleaves through the armor of his foe. Bones wrench from joints. Blood pours from the wound. All is a symphony.

There is nothing more to worry about. There is nothing more to fear. 

He can finally enjoy what he was so carefully crafted to do. 

And that’s better than anything the corpse-emperor ever did for him. 

So proudly, with the next swing of his chain-axe, he proclaims this harvest for his god- the only one who ever cared enough to fix him.  

[your-bigender-big-brother]

Here are some new honorifics I came up with! (And don't forget to check out this post that lists some already existing gender neutral honorifics.)

♡ General:

Nr. - "neutral"; can also pronounce as 'ner' Nb. - "enby"; can also pronounce as 'nib' Nn. - 'none', inspired by 'nonbinary' or being genderless Du. - "dual", inspired by having two genders Bd. - "blend", inspired by having two genders Tr. - "tri", inspired by having three genders Pn. - "pan", like 'pangender' or pan-anything Omn. - "omni", like 'omnigender' or omni-anything Ab. - "ab", like 'abinary' Mv. or Mvr. - "maverique" or "maverick"; can also pronounce as 'mav' Vd. - "void", inspired by 'gendervoid' Xr. - "zer" Xrs. - "zers"; can be a soft or hard S (The previous two can also be Zr. and Zrs.)

♡ Dragon Inspired:

Dra. or Drg. - "dragon"; can also pronounce as 'drag' Drc. - "draconic"; can also pronounce as 'drak' Hd. or Hrd. - "hoarder"; can also pronounce as 'herd' Fl. - "flame" Fr. or Fir. - "fire"; can also pronounce as 'fear' or 'fur' Wng. - "wing" Fng. - "fang" Str. or Stm. - "storm" Srp. - "serp", inspired by 'serpent' Wyr. or Wr. - "wyrm"

♡ Other Nonhuman Inspired:

Cr. - "cryptid" Rb. - "robot"; can also pronounce as 'rob' or 'robe' Cy. or Cb. - "cyborg"; can also pronounce as 'cy' or 'cybe' Mns. or Mtr. - "monster" Crt. - "creature" Om. - "omen"; can also pronounce as 'ome' or 'om' A. or Al. - "alien" Mg. or Mag. - "magic"; can also pronounce as 'maj' or 'mage' Amg. - "amalg", inspired by 'amalgamation' Atm. - "autom" like the beginning of 'automaton'

♡ Nature Inspired:

W. or Ww. - "willow" Asp. - "aspen" Pne. - "pine" Frn. - "fern" Flw. - "flower"; can also pronounce as 'flow' Stg. - "stag" F. or Fe. - "fae" or "faerie" (note that 'Fe' is the elemental abbreviation for iron, and iron is toxic to actual faeries. Might be good to keep in mind for faekin and fae headmates!) Flr. - "flora"; can also pronounce as 'fler' Fn. - "fauna" Lf. - "leaf" Bg. - "bug" Vrd. - "verd", inspired by 'verdant'

Do honorifics seem kind of silly? Well, besides the formality of them, they could work for anyone who might view them as a status. Fictives might have a certain ranking or status from their source. Otherkin might see their species as having some kind of required rank or formality based on the culture. Nonhumans in general might want to do away with any honorifics that refer to them as human, gendered or not. I think they could be useful and fun! 💙💚

Some example sentences below:

"This is Nr. Apollo and xe are visiting the local college to talk about xer experiences as an agender person. Have you been to one of xer lectures? I love to listen to xem talk. Go check out Nr. Apollo when you get the chance."

"Cy. Silver doesn't consider itself human and instead, it is robotkin! Its special interest is technology, old video games, and documentaries on animals. I hope Cy. Silver takes care of itself today!"

"Say hello to Str. Orion when you see em. Ey are headed to the store right now to get emself some new pencils. Ey really like to draw mythical creatures in eir sketchbook. If you ask, ey might show you some of eir work."

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Saw you wanted happy edits. All I can offer you is an animation of one of my favourite artists. It's casanova x good omnes

This is what happened in s2 fight me i love it

[howhow326]

Bayonetta 3: Viola Rewrite

(Just me screaming into the void on how I would fix Viola)

Part 1: Viola, but better

Long, long ago, there was nothing. Then there was Omne. Out of nothingness, she crafted around her a universe of Light, and the shadow of Darkness surrounding that light. She created every plant, animal, and angel. Such a grand act of creation was taxing, which lead to her eternal slumber. Without her divine will, the highest angels grew prideful and chose to rebel against her will. This rebellion lead to the first Armageddon, forever separating the world of Light from the World of Darkness. From the fires of that battle also came the World of Chaos, ruled by a feeble imitation of Omne's divine will called Æsir. The angels stayed in the Light, the humans were severed from reality in the profound World of Chaos, and the demons fell to Darkness... but not all of them. Half of the fallen ones clung to the World of Chaos. It was in the gaps of Æsir's order that these Fairies created worlds Twilight for themselves. And so it was that the Universe was split between the Trinity of Realities: Paradiso (Light), Inferno (Darkness), Purgatorio (Twilight), and Chaos.

Within every reality of the World of Chaos exists a prophecy that the union of Light and Dark would bring calamity to the World... but this is only the incomplete version of the true prophecy: the union of Light, Dark, and Twilight would signal the beginning of the end for the whole of existence...

(TLDR: Bayonetta having kids with Luka condemned the entire multiverse to destruction)

Ok so, Singularity is now Cernunnos, the King of the Winter Fairies and all of the Homunculi are called Unseelie now because they are all fairies now. Cern really wanted to take over the World of Chaos but Æsir stopped him from doing that... then main universe Bayonetta killed Æsir.

Seeing his chance, Cern rallied his his Fairies to wipe out the human race and take over. During his take over, Cern realized he could exponentially increase his power by killing and absorbing Bayonetta (who is still the Arch Eve in every universe). He also killed a lot of Lukas (who is still the Arch Adam in every universe) but didn't absorb his power because there was literally no need to (Luka is weak lol).

Cern comes across Viola's universe where he A) kills Jeanne, B) kills Luka, and C) kills Bayonetta in front of Viola. Instead of simply being unable to catch her, Cern allows Viola to run away because he sees her as simple "junk data" (In this version, Cern is still technologically advanced while still being a magical fairy).

Viola runs into main universe Bayo, and the two of them along with Jeanne set out to stop the Winter King. Along the way, Viola meets with Fortitudio and forms a "pact" with him in order to stop Cern from destroying Paradiso and Chaos (Fortitudio just wants to manipulate Viola lol).

After that the stuff with Strider happens and this causes to transform into her fairy form, but this time her fairy form has a Angel Wing and a Demon Wing. After the fight, Viola realizes that there must be more to herself and she wants to figure out what that is.

Viola then fights Strider for the last time in France and she ends up in Avalon Forest (the domain of the Spring Fairies). In the forest, Viola meets... Queen Mab! Instead of that stupid "conversation" with Lukaon, Queen Mab reveals to Viola that she is not only the princess of Purgatorio, but also the "Arch Seth Origin": a being that signals the beginning of the end of all things. This conversation bumbs Viola out a bit, so Queen Mab gives Viola Mab Dachi (Viola's starting Weapon is Shuraba now because I said so) and she makes a pact with Viola so they can fight the Winter King togather and save the multiverse.

The final boss fight with Singularity is basically the same as before, but instead of "Dark Eve" Viola fights "Dark Cernunnos" which is literally the same as Singularity but with a dark filter.

At the end of the game, Viola becomes Violetta and not Bayonetta because that's not who she is :)

Game play changes

Weapons: Shuraba > Mab Dachi (After French Chapters). Bull's Kiss is replaced by Pistols (the same thing as the shoot buttons pistols)

Demons: Cheshire <> Fortitudio (After Chinese chapters) <> Queen Mab (After the French chapters)

*Dodge button now functions the same way as Rodin's shield, activates witch time.

Part 2: My version of Viola

This version is a Bayojeanne kid because F you

Forget literally all of that old lore because it's gone now, Fairies don't exist. Luka is not the reincarnation of a magic fairy prince and he's not Arch Adam Origin. Strider is not real, he can't hurt you. Also in this version Luka is the one that goes on spy missions to rescue Sigurd which kills him.

This version of Viola is more like a fusion of Jeanne and Bayonetta (but leaning on Jeanne's side) personalities and appearances. In her universe, the war against Singularity happened years earlier and claimed Jeanne's life when she was a little girl. The Bayonetta from that universe wanted to keep Viola as far away from the fighting as possible, but Viola went against her orders and made a pact with Alrune so she could become a Umbra Witch.

From that point onward, the plot is still really samey: Singularity kills Viola's mom, so Viola escapes to the main universe and goes on a quest with our Bayonetta. This time around, Jeanne is adventuring along with them.

Instead of the Strider boss fights, Viola spars with Jeanne to prove that she is ready to be an Umbra Witch.

At the end of the game, Singularity stabs Luka in the back. Then he stabs Jeanne in the back. Then Bayo beats him up like three times. Then at the last second Jeanne swoops down and Bayo, Jeanne, and Viola all team up together to take down Singularity and Singularity calls the three of them "Arch Maiden, Mother, and Crone Origin".

Bayo summons that one demon that keeps killing everyone and it kills Bayo. Jeanne willingly goes into Inferno along with Bayo while leaving Viola behind.

Viola then fights Dark Eve, and claims the name Bayonetta!

Game play changes

Weapon: Alruna (Viola can also use all weapons in the game)

Demon: Alrune (Chesire is written out. Viola can control Alrune)

*Viola activates witch time by dodging she can only dodge two times in a row.

*She also has beast within (Cheetah/Raven/no bat within equivalent)

[lichqueenlibrarian]

I don’t think I really liked The Prometheus Design. It seemed to be going somewhere interesting and then wound up a rehash of their previous two novels. We had Kirk and Spock wrestle (literally) with Omne and his belief that the universe needs mayhem and the Federation’s Prime Directive was an abuse of power, now we have a scary Vulcan admiral show up to argue the opposite by… being really xenophobic???

The biggest problem I think I have is that Spock and Kirk started out at a really interesting place (shipping goggles aside), and then moved into a more awkward position when Admiral Savaj removed Kirk from command and put Spock in charge (as he is the superior in all ways…ew). Spock went bizarrely off the rails, and if I ever see “Vulcan command mode” again I’m going to scream.

There was so much more that could’ve been done with Kirk and Spock’s relationship still fragile after the events of TMP, how do they deal with this new problem and with the alien force that kidnapped them originally? How does Spock wrestle when confronted with a full Vulcan who is effortlessly everything a “true” Vulcan ought to be, without doing Kolinahr? I think they really tried to do that justice but it came off so damn awkwardly that I just felt frustrated with Spock instead. I didn’t particularly care for the super powerful alien species treating the universe like a lab complete with animal experimentation, not when the book had already set up a more interesting plot line with the kidnapped people being more susceptible to anger/strong emotions and then a murder mystery. I think it could’ve been just as easy to make the reason for the strange behaviour some sort of contaminant on the planet or interference by another of the Federation bad guys.

Also the goddamn footnotes I swear to all the heavens I was losing my mind. I do not think it was necessary to cite every reference to an episode or book any time they alluded to previous canon situations.

[aydascomprehendsubtext]

If, as Negri says, “the necessity of Keynesian ideology” arises in a “tension born of desperation,” it is not provoked by communism but by the onset of bellum omnium contra omnes that looms on the Keynesian horizon.31 This is the tension that motivates Keynes’s most famous contribution, The General Theory. That work, and virtually all those concepts and policies we call Keynesian, are essentially moments in a political economy of anxiety and hope—efforts to subdue the sources of social disorder and animate the untapped social and economic wealth immanent to what Keynes called “modern communities.” … Far more than the renewed interest in Keynesian economics, or Keynes the economist or statesman, it is the precariousness of “civilization” that makes the question of Keynesianism urgent. We are witness to the desperate refusal to abandon the belief that a non-revolutionary bliss is out there to be realized, that “something will turn up.” This anxious hope and trepidation are not confined to elites, governors, or the ruling class, and they exceed the realm of liberal politics. They are, rather, widespread across otherwise quite rigid lines of difference—millions of us have become, as Keynes was once described, “Geiger counters of future headlines.”33 ...

This cul-de-sac is precisely where Keynesian reason leads us. Many of those political features that make Keynesianism make sense to “progressives” are significant obstacles to a vital, mass-based progressive or Left movement—that is at least part of Keynesianism’s raison d’être. I am of course far from the first to point this out; some variation on it is a “radical” axiom. The problem that is almost never mentioned, however, is that recognizing Keynesianism’s limits, or even excoriating it for its “reformist” or “collaborationist” bases (as some “radicals” are often wont to do), does not thereby cut the ties that bind the Left to Keynesianism. Keynesianism is not something that the Left in the liberal capitalist North can just disavow at will. It has always been a crucial element of that social formation, and there is no politics that can escape its time. Keynesianism has been at the core of both liberalism and the critique of liberalism for more than two hundred years.36 It is, unintentionally but inescapably, no small part of what “progressive” or “Left” has come to mean, however much some might wish it were otherwise.

- Geoff Mann, In the Long Run We Are All Dead, 2017

[poetryandbloods-blog]

The Gamp family has been lobbying for generations to become one of the supreme families, claiming that they possess ancient Druid magic and have made notable contributions to British magic, but the fact that they still have strong ties to Norse magic has prevented this rise.

They are endowed with the gift of transfiguration, having created several theories on the subject, the best known and officially are the "5 Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration".

Its members study transfiguration, human and animal biology in depth, being the closest to the scientists/biologists we have in the magical world, the desire to create and change shapes them and they do not look kindly on family members who have moved away from what they consider a sacred purpose. Motto: “In omne tempus, mutatio” / At all times there is transformation. Color: Pearl. Symbol: Butterfly.

[akirawrites24]

i animated Omne! My Hazbin oc!