#only one (which is science) that needs one in order to do the test

[phantomrose96]

Thinking about Edward Elric as the Amestrian Military's specialest little unfireable boy

State alchemists can be fired for underperforming. We know this up front from the likes of Shou Tucker. And this makes a ton of sense from the homunculi's standpoint since the state alchemists are sacrifice candidates, and the homunculi would want to cull the weakest candidates and focus only on cultivating the strongest ones who stand the best chance of opening the portal.

........Then there's Edward. Who's already opened the portal.

There's no need to cultivate him. No gamble taken on whether he's good enough to open the portal. He passed the final test already. Graduated 4 semesters early.

And as such, has a free pass to do Absolute Fuck All.

And I'm imagining how funny this is from like an outside perspective.

Some newish state alchemist who'd only ever read up on the stories of Edward Elric, ready and excited to start their career of being paid handsomely with endless freedom to research and travel and do anything they want in the pursuit of science... surprised and confused to find themselves put on probation their first month for things like "ignoring orders." Which is, as best they had thought, a famous Edward Elric pastime.

Roy showing a slight bit of stress about his yearly state alchemist report, and Ed just snorting and rolling his eyes at Roy because every year HE just hastily does his on the train ride over (canon in the manga, a travesty it was left out of the anime) and it gets rubber stamped. Ed not realizing that other alchemists' reports get genuinely scrutinized and torn apart while Ed is free to turn in whatever absolute bullshit he thinks of 36 hours ahead of time. One year his report was about whether alchemy could be done via dance (conclusion: no it can't) and no one cared. Roy WANTS to tell Ed there's some kind of unknown favoritism around Ed making him literally bullet-proof but Roy has no way to phrase this that doesn't sound like he's just in denial and mad at how good Ed's train-reports are.

Guy from the Internal Amestrian Affairs sector who's responsible for auditing other internal military personel for any suspicious activity hitting about 1 million red flags for Edward Elric, issuing a STRONG and URGENT recommendation to suspend the alchemist pending further investigation into things like "literal bunk-buddies with two members of the Xingese royalty (enemy nation)" and "spent $10,000,000 of his stipend on a librarian to make her re-copy (what he seemed to interpret as?) military records in some extremely transparent effort to unearth state secrets (it was a recipe book but he was literally asking her about state secrets)" and "literally has never once obeyed an order, ever, not even once in his career, and is on public record having said 'I do not care about the goals and protections of the Amestrian Military. I am in fact only pursuing my own interests several of which are diametrically opposed to the safety and well-being of the governing body of Amestris'"

The issued recommendation is intercepted before it even reaches its intended desk. President Bradley himself has taken issue with it and denies it before a single set of eyes has seen it. The President's veto stamp is a terrifying hammer, used rarely, and it is now sitting on the auditor's desk.

The auditor sleeps with one eye open from then on out.

[tanadrin]

Can you explain in what what you think eugenics doesn't work? Does this basically boil down to skepticism about the accuracy of GWAS studies? My understanding is that academic consensus is "G probably exists, disentangling direct genetic inheritance vs genetic cultural inheritance is complicated but possible, we can identify a number of alleles which we're reasonably confident are directly causally involved in having a higher G factor"

when it comes to intelligence, its heritability, and its variation at the population level, my understanding of the science is:

highly adaptive traits don't, in fact, vary much at the genetic level between populations of a species because they are strongly selected for. in an environment where a trait is being strongly selected for, a population that failed to express that trait strongly will be rapidly outcompeted.

intelligence is probably the quintessential such trait for humans. we have sacrificed a great deal of other kinds of specialization in favor of our big brains. we spend an enormous amount of calories supporting those brains. tool use, the ability to plan for the future, the ability to navigate complex social situations and hierarchies in order to secure status, the ability to model the minds of others for the purposes of cooperation and deception means that we should expect intelligence to be strongly selected for for as long as our lineage has been social and tool-using, which is at least the last three million years or so.

so, at least as a matter of a priori assumptions, we should expect human populations not to vary greatly in their genetic predisposition to intelligence. it may nonetheless, but we'd need pretty strong evidence. i think i read this argument on PZ Myers' blog a million years ago, so credit where that's due.

complicating the picture is that we just don't have good evidence for how IQ does vary across populations, even before we get into the question of "how much of this variation is genetic and how much of it is not." the cross-national data on which a lot of IQ arguments have been based is really bad. and that would be assuming IQ tests are in fact good at capturing a notion of IQ that is independent of cultural context, which historically they're pretty bad at

this screed by nassim nicholas taleb (not a diss; AFAICT the guy only writes in screeds) makes a number of arguments, but one argument I find persuasive is that IQ is really only predictive of achievement in the sense that it does usefully discriminate between people with obvious intellectual disabilities and those without--but you do not actually need an IQ test for that sort of thing, any more than you need to use a height chart to figure out who is missing both their legs. in that sense, sure, IQ is predictive of a lot of things. but once you remove this group, the much-vaunted correlations between IQ and stuff like wealth just straight-up vanishes

heritability studies are a useful tool, but a tool which must be wielded carefully; they were developed for studying traits which were relatively easy to isolate in very specific populations, like a crop under study at an agricultural research site, and are more precarious when applied to, e.g., human populations

my understanding based on jonathan kaplan articles like this one is that twin studies are not actually that good at distinguishing heritable factors from environmental ones--they have serious limitations compared to heritability studies where you actually can rigorously control for environmental effects, like you can with plants or livestock.

as this post also points out, heritability studies also only examine heritability within groups, and are not really suited to examining large-scale population differences, *especially* in the realm of intelligence where there is a huge raft of confounding factors, and a lack of a really robust measurement tool.

(if we are worried about intelligence at the population level, it seems to me there are interventions we know are going to be effective and do not rely on deeply dubious scientific speculation, e.g., around nutrition and healthcare and serious wealth inequality and ofc education; and if what people actually want is to raise the average intelligence of the population rather than justify discrimination against minorities, then they might focus on those much more empirically grounded interventions. even if population differences in IQ are real and significant and point to big differences in intelligence, we know those things are worth a fair few IQ points. but most people who are or historically have been the biggest advocates for eugenics are, in my estimation, mostly interested in justifying discrimination.)

i think the claims/application of eugenics extend well beyond just intelligence, ftr. eugenics as an ideology is complex and historically pretty interesting, and many eugenicists have made much broader claims than just "population-level differences in intelligence exist due to genetic factors, and we should try to influence them with policy," but that is a useful point for them to fall back onto when pressed on those other claims. but i don't think even that claim is at all well-supported.

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning in and of itself. Cussing, obsession, masterbation (m & f), p in v (alluded to), Dark!Coriolanus, Young Politician!Coriolanus, Secretary!Reader

This one got away from me so it's a bit long. Whoops...

You're at your desk, logging into your computer to start the day whenever the door to the office opens and in walks your boss. Senator Coriolanus Snow. One of the youngest Head Gamemakers and Senators in the history of Panem. He's only 24 years old and he's already so successful.

Crazy, right?

Your older brother was in the same graduating class as him at the Academy. Rein was a slacker that wasn't in the top 24 while Coryo- uh Coriolanus- was the top student, won the Plinth prize, and even did a short stint as a Peacekeeper to serve the greater good of the country (like his father General Crassus Snow did before him) before attending the University as a double major in Political Science and Military Strategies. Oh and while attending the University he interned under Dr. Gaul, became an Assistant Gamemaker, and even became the Head Gamemaker himself when Dr. Gaul died in a tragic lab accident involving her mutts.

And he did all of that by age 20.

Age 20!

After graduating from the Academy, Rein was shoved into the Peacekeepers by your father, retired Colonel Javanis Halvir. Your brother was sent to 8 and he complained in all of his letters about it. Once he was eligible to take the Officer's Aptitude Exam, your father had ordered him to sign up. So, Rein took the test and became an officer. He got assigned to PK Base D-12.

And that's what your older brother accomplished by 20. Oh and he also knocked up a local barmaid from the Hobb, causing your father to have a stroke. Your mother found it very comical.

And then both of your parents told you that you needed to redeem the family name, blah blah blah, and pushed you to be the top student in the Academy. So, of course you ended up in the top 24. And you mentored a tribute, a 17 year old boy from 7, that won. He was very proficient with an ax. You didn't have to do too much mentoring, he basically just hacked everybody to bits…

But you still won the Plinth Prize anyways. And during the ceremony for the prize, instead of Strabo Plinth handing you over the Plinth Prize it was his heir instead.

Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow.

After handing you the prize he had asked you to have a glass of posca with him, causing your mother to glare angrily at the interaction. Your father on the other hand was ecstatic that Coryo-uh Coriolanus- wanted to talk to you. He served under General Snow in 12; thought that Coriolanus was a man cut from the same cloth as his father.

Anyways, once you and Coriolanus Snow got to talking he admitted that he was going into politics and would need a personal secretary; an assistant per say to help him with his day to day tasks such as scheduling meetings, etc. and much to your surprise, he offered you the job.

That was a couple of years ago.

So, yes, that's how you got your job. And you really liked your job. It wasn't that hard to do plus it made you feel important that such an accomplished and powerful man trusted you to manage his life.

If you only knew that Coriolanus, who's been insisting that you call him Coryo for roughly a year now, has been lusting after you since he saw you in a cute dress that hugged your body just right when he presented you the Plinth Prize 2 years ago. Also, your boss is a dark soul. A cold man. But he does have a soft spot for you.

And only for you.

Which is why he greets you with a wide, manic smile that makes the corners of his baby blues crinkle. “Good morning, Y/N.” The platinum blonde senator says while crossing the room, heading to your desk.

“Good morning, Senator Snow.” You politely smile, pulling up the excel document in order to print out the day's schedule for your boss. And talk about your boss, he's holding a bouquet of white roses in one hand and a tray of coffee along with a pastry bag in the other as he stops at your desk.

Coriolanus sets everything down, only to grab the vase on the corner of your desk and bring it over to the trash. All the while saying, “I brought you some fresh roses, courtesy of Grandma’am’s rooftop garden, to replace the wilted ones on your desk.”

The blonde politician did that every Monday for you. He brought fresh flowers for your office vase. A vase he gifted you for your one year work anniversary last year.

Dumping the contents of the vase out in the trash can, Coriolanus gestured to the coffees and brown paper bag on your desk, only to explain, “The barista at the coffee shop got my order wrong, so I had to do a second order, but since I already paid for the wrong order I figured I'd give it to you.”

“Oh, thank you, Coriolanus, Sir.” You simply smiled, grateful for the free coffee. You were going to put a pot on in the break room as soon as you printed out Snow's schedule, but getting an unexpected cup of coffee’s always nice.

Perhaps you'll pay it forward and treat him to coffee tomorrow. The gods know that you have his coffee order memorized.

It's black, just like his soul, with a couple of sugar packets. Not Splenda, not Sweet ‘n’ Low, not Truvia, but real sugar made from sugar cane grown down in 11. Oh and he always has a chocolate filled croissant too.

You also know his afternoon tea order by heart along with his dinner orders from a handful of takeout places he prefers. Hell, you even know his liquor order for after hours meetings. But it's your duty to know those things since, after all, you're his personal secretary.

Literally his right hand woman.

“Darling, how many times have I told you to, please, call me Coryo.” Your boss shook his head at you while bringing the empty vase to the nearby bathroom to fill up with water.

It must've been at least a hundred times by now, maybe more. But it felt weird to you calling your boss such a personal sounding nickname. You're both professional adults, if you call him by his name it should be Coriolanus. If not then you'll just refer to him as his title, since he's your boss.

“You know I can't call you Coryo, Coriolanus. It's not proper; you're my boss.” You remind the senator, who's dressed to the nines today in a perfectly tailored three piece black suit- complete with a white dress shirt and striped tie, as he walks out of the bathroom and back into your foyer office with the filled up vase in hand.

A vase that looked dwarfed by his large grip. “We've known each other for a couple of years now, darling. I'd like to think of us as being on friendly terms, wouldn't you?” Coriolanus asked, placing the vase down on your desk and arranging the flowers in them for you.

You clicked the print button on your computer, only to swivel your chair around to reach the ink jet printer behind you. “Yes, we're friendly, but you're still my boss.”

“And as your boss I'm now ordering you to call me Coryo.” He told you, pulling out the coffee that was yours, due to error, and setting it on your desk while you watched the printer spit out the paper with his daily schedule on it.

“Fine, I'll call you Coryo.” You gave in, grabbing the paper and swiveling back around to face your him.

“I got two croissants since I had to get my order remade, so it looks like you'll be getting one this morning, darling.” Coryo told you, opening up the paper bag and pulling out a pastry. He grabbed a napkin that was stuffed into the drink carrier and put it on your desk, next to your coffee, before depositing your croissant on it.

“Thank you.” You simply smile. Handing him over his schedule, you announce, “Here's your schedule for today.”

The platinum blonde gives you a closed lip smile and nods before stretching his hand out for the paper. “You've got a dinner meeting tonight at 7 o’clock sharp with a political sponsor.” You reminded him, your fingertips brushing, while he grabs the outstretched paper from you.

Briefly glancing over the paper in his hand, he asked, “Would you like to go with me?”

“What?”

“Dinner at 7 o’clock sharp. Would you like to go with me?”

Shaking your head, you politely decline his offer. “Oh no, I'm sorry, Coryo, Sir, but I can't go.”

“Why not? Got a boyfriend or something occupying your time?” The senator sharply asks, his baritone heavy with a tingle of jealousy.

Coriolanus prayed to every God he never believed in that you're single. If not, well he's going to go whack some unlucky bastard to free you up to be his girl. He's decided that he's tired of pinning over you; stalking you.

Coryo's ready to take things to the next level. He's ready to fucking corrupt you; make you his forever. He's going to be announcing his bid for the presidential runoff, the first step in becoming one of two candidates to face off for the presidency, and it's time for him to get into a relationship.

A public relationship.

And you're perfect for that. Coriolanus knows, without a doubt, that you'll make a perfect First Lady. That your beauty and slight innocence will be the perfect contrast to his cold, stoic, but regal stature. That you're a perfect fit for him.

Plus he's getting tired of paying for whores. Whores that he has to keep disposing of so that they can't blackmail him about his sexual appetite. Coriolanus prides himself of being from one of the founding families of Panem, from the Old Guard. He even runs on the Old Guard ticket; he can't have some disgruntled whore tarnishing his reputation.

It'd be much cheaper and easier to just get you into bed; fuck you in all the ways that he likes.

But he also has a soft spot for you. Coryo likes you. Okay, that's a lie. He's obsessed with you in such a dark, sick way that if he sees a man smile at you or get too close to you then he's killing that man. Yea, Senator Snow’s in love with you, or at least in his head he's in love with you.

It's more like an obsession.

“No.” You shook your head. “I don't have a boyfriend.” Well, you had an on-again, off-again thing going on with your neighbor across the hall from you, but since it's currently off Coryo doesn't need to know about that.

Coriolanus swore that he heard the heavens singing hymns upon hearing that you're single. Yes, now’s the perfect time for him to make you his.

“Then I'll have my driver pick you up for dinner tonight. Wear something nice.”

Once again, you decline him invitation. “You're my boss, I'm sorry, but I can't go with you tonight.”

Usually Coriolanus appreciates your professionalism and dedication to your job, but right now he loathes it. Why can't you just accept that he's taking you to his dinner meeting tonight. That he's showing you off on his arm for the entire Capitol to see.

Leaning against your desk, he gives you a piercing look with his icy eyes and tells you, “It's a very important business dinner with a political sponsor, Y/N, and you're my assistant.” A calculating look crosses the politician's face as he adds in, “It's actually, you might say, very vital that you attend dinner with me tonight.”

Well…

When he puts it that way.

“Okay, I'll go to dinner with you tonight.” You relent, causing a smug grin to appear on Coryo's face.

“Good.” Coryo grins, making his face light up like sunshine, as he grabs his coffee and pastry bag. “Since dinner's at 7, I'll have my driver pick you up at 6:45. That'll leave a 15 minute window to get to the restaurant.” The platinum blonde told you the plan before pivoting on his heel and striding over to his office. Pausing at his door, with his large hand hovering over the knob, he looked over his shoulder and told you, “Wear either a red or black dress, but preferably red.”, before opening up the door and disappearing inside of his office.

Oh, how did you get into this mess?

Coriolanus sat at his mahogany desk, going over documents for various bills that he could either sponsor or just straight up deny. Honestly, most of the shit that got dumped on his desk he denied. If it didn't pertain to the Capitol and the Capitolites then he just shoved the document in his shredder and made a note to vote no, well in the Senate it was ‘nah’, on it.

And Senator Snow was notorious for voting nah on everything.

As he sat in his office going over mindless matters, he couldn't help but wonder about what you'd look like all dolled up for dinner tonight. He knew that you had a few nice cocktail dresses to pick from, but the mystery of whether you'd listen to him and wear something black or preferably red versus another color altogether made his head spin a mile a minute. He hopes that you're a good little secretary and listen to him about the dress.

But what he really can't help fantasizing about is what you'll be wearing underneath your dress. He can't help picturing you in a bra and panty set that hugs your body in the right ways. The senator's daydreaming about delicate lace molded against your most private parts, that are hidden away only for your lover to see.

And just thinking about becoming your lover, stripping you out of not just your dress, but your soft, delicate lingerie has his pants growing tighter. So tight, in fact, that it was downright uncomfortable.

Letting out a barely audible groan, the platinum blonde stood up from his desk and went over to his door. For just a moment, he leaned his forehead against it and debated on whether or not to call you into his office; have you on your knees underneath his desk for him. But then he decided against it; locked his door instead and went over to his desk chair to take care of himself.

You're not some district whore, you deserve to be properly wined and dined first before he has you on your knees for him- choking on his cock with tears and mascara messily running down your cheeks.

Oh, just the thought of you with your pretty mouth around his large cock had said cock twitching in his pants.

Quickly, Coriolanus makes his way over to the small sofa that's in the corner of his office. He makes quick work of undoing his belt, only to tug his pants and boxer briefs down just enough for his cock to spring free before sitting on the sofa. Spitting in his hand, he leans back into the sofa and wraps his large hand around his cock.

He feels his dick throbbing angrily in his cold hand while sliding his thumb over his tip’s leaky slit. The platinum blonde bites back a moan, and closes his eyes- pretending that it's your hand wrapped around his shaft and your thumb teasing his cockhead. Fuck, how he craves your touch. Using his thumb to spread precum over his tip and down the length of his dick, he started to move his fist up and down in measured glides.

Coriolanus knows he should just rub one out as quick as possible since he's at work, but the fact that you- the object of all his fantasies- is right outside won't let him. Being in such close proximity to you feeds his fantasies and he has to have a proper handjob session.

Coriolanus has to indulge in the make believe notion that you're the one pumping his cock up and down, twisting your wrist slightly every now and then. That it's you playing with his cum heavy balls, making his toes curl in his socks and black floor shines, as the fist around his cock starts to slightly pick up pace.

Gods, he's getting lost in his fantasy of you pleasuring him with your hands, hell even your mouth- that he's sure will be aching from his cock unhinging your jaw when you suck him off- that the loud ringing of his office phone startles him.

“Goddamnit! Can't I fuck my fist in peace?” Coriolanus grumbled.

He's angry that his fantasy was broken; that he has to fist his cock faster than he wanted to.

The phone continued to ring off the hook as he furiously moved his hand up and down his dick. He bit his lip and bucked his hips, spurting his cum into his left hand. The one that he was using on his balls before the damn phone started ringing like crazy.

Letting out an aggravated sigh, he grabbed a few tissues from the box on the side table next to him and wiped off his hand. Standing up to right his boxer briefs and pants, he heard your heels echo down the hall. Great, just great, now you're on your way to his office because the phone’s ringing off the hook.

Quickly, Coriolanus tosses the tissues into the wastebin. Rushing to his desk, he grabs the phone, only to slam it down. Hard.

Hey, he made the excessive ringing stop. Whoever called should just stick to the after 3 rings, hang up and try again later rule. Coriolanus has more important things to do than listen to a phone ring endlessly.

More important things: like jacking off to daydreams and fantasies about his secretary.

His secretary that's knocking on his door and asking him if he's alright.

“I'm fine, my darling.” Coriolanus called out to you while crossing his office. He unlocked his door and opened it, only to give you a manipulative smile while feeding you the bullshit lie of, “I just zoned out reading a grant proposal and didn't realize the phone was ringing.”

“Are you sure you're alright?” You asked, only to follow it up with the offer of, “I can always read some of those grant proposals and take notes on them for you, if you want. That way you won't get so bored to death reading them that you miss important phone calls.”

“You'd do that, for me?” Coriolanus asked, feeling a bit touched by your offer. Oh, how he thinks you're an absolute sweetheart.

A perfect angel sent to him from the Lord above. And he's your golden angel too.

Lucifer, that is.

“Of course, Coryo. It's my job to help you with paperwork.”

And before another word could be shared between you two, his phone started ringing. Again.

“Oh, I'll leave you to your call. Just put whatever you want me to read for you on my desk later.”

“I will, darling.” Coriolanus smiles at you, watching you walk away before closing his door.

Storming over to his phone, he sees that the video option light is blinking. Sitting down, he answered the phone and pressed the button to turn on his video call screen. As soon as the face of the half-assed idiot that was one of the Junior Gamemakers appeared on the screen he immediately felt a migraine coming on.

“Senator Snow, are you neglecting Head Gamemaker duties in favor of politics? You never answered my call.” The redhead man with a bad combover had the audacity to tell his boss via the phone screen.

Poor soul must not value his life…

“There’s 3 fucking months before the games, that I'm designing, so there's no damn reason for you to call me and let the phone ring off the hook. Are you incompetent? If you had the common sense that God gave a mule the. You'd know I was busy with other matters and couldn't answer your ridiculous call.” Coriolanus seethed in a long winded rant. His veins were protruding from his pale neck; a red vein was angrily popping in his forehead too. But it was his eyes that held so much hate in their icy orbs.

The man on the phone screen, despite being a few years older then Senator Snow, was a complete incompetent idiot in Coriolanus' opinion. Age certainly didn't make him any wiser.

“I'm a very busy man; next time you pester me I'll have you thrown into a tank full of rabid mutts.” Coriolanus promised the Junior Gamemaker before hanging up, hard, on him.

Coriolanus pinches the bridge of his nose and slumps into his overstuffed leather office chair. Letting out a heavy sigh, he rubs his temples and tries to calm down by daydreaming about dinner with you tonight.

Your day went on as it usually does. You took calls and made appointments for Senator Snow. You also read and typed up some cliff notes for a few bills that Coryo left for you before he took off for lunch. He didn't say where he was going and you didn't ask.

When he came back from a power lunch, you knew he went somewhere for drinks cause you could smell a hint of whiskey radiating from his pores, he greeted you with a simple thin lipped smile and placed a container of food on your desk. He didn't tell you to take your lunch break, but the way he wordlessly moved his baby blues between you and the doggie bag he just dumped on your desk was more than enough to give you a hint that he wanted you to eat. So, you simply thanked him, before handing him some notes and taking the food he got you to the break room.

After lunch, the remainder of your day was mundane. Or at least it was until Coryo emerged from his office and strutted over to your desk. You didn't pay him any mind, figuring that he prolly just wanted the other bills back along with the notes you just finished up on them. So, when he perches himself on the corner of your desk, all the while suggesting, “Darling, why don't you leave early. You can pamper yourself with, say, a rosewater bubble bath before tonight's dinner. Yea?”, you're taken aback.

You're in total shock.

Your nose scrunched up, reminding Coriolanus of a little bunny rabbit, as you asked incredulously, “Excuse me, Senator Snow? You're sending me home early?” Softly, you trailed off, “To take a bubble bath…”, while tilting up a baffled arched eyebrow.

“A rosewater bubble bath.” The regal platinum man corrected with a long finger high up in the air. Leaning slightly, so that he towers over you as you sit behind your desk (and gets a nice little peek down your v-neck blouse at your modest cleavage), he tells you, “You're such a dedicated employee; I think you deserve to go home early and pamper yourself before I drag you out to a dinner with my potential political sponsor.”

And what he wasn't telling you was that Mr. Feathersworth was bringing his mistress along. Oh yea… So, technically, it's a couples dinner.

Really? He wants you to relax and pamper yourself before a dinner full of political talk? Wow. You weren't expecting that from your boss.

“My bath and beauty products are actually rose-vanilla scented, Coryo, not rosewater.” You told him, before you could even think better of it.

A smirk appears on Coryo's face and desire briefly flashed in his cerulean eyes. The imposing man favored roses; in fact it was his signature, so that fact that you used rose-vanilla scented bath and beauty products had his cold, black heart beating with warmth, life, and daresay love for you.

“Darling, you deserve to pamper yourself in that rose-vanilla bubble bath. We'll be in for quite a long evening; you don't want to be tense beforehand, now so you?”

Well…

When he puts it that way.

Sighing slightly, you gave in with, “Fine, I'll leave early and pamper myself with a bubble bath.”

“Rose-vanilla bubble bath.” Coriolanus corrected with a ghost of a smile tracing his lush lips. Patting your cheek, he tells you, “Go ahead and go, darling. I'll be fine here for a few more hours.”, before pushing himself off of your desk.

“Thank you. I'll see you later for that political dinner.” You genuinely smiled, grabbing your bag out from under your desk and shouldering it before standing up.

“Remember, my driver will be by at 6:45 sharp.”

“Oh, that's right. You need-” You began, intending to give Senator Snow your address, only to be cut off by a raised hand. “I have your address in my employee files, Y/N.” His baritone hung thickly in the air like honey stuck on a honeycomb; slowly dripping down, as he ordered, “Go home and pamper yourself; get all dolled up in something red, my darling rose.”

As you sat neck deep in your tub, surrounded by bubbles, thoughts of your boss floated around your head. You never really thought much about him, or at least you didn't til now. Yes, you always thought that he was easy on the eyes- platinum hair (you always secretly wondered if the carpet matches the drapes), striking crystal blue eyes, a prominent nose, sharp jawline, tall and lanky build. But you never truly fixated your attention on his looks, or at least until now that is.

You can't explain it, but the interaction you had with him before leaving the office had your blood racing. You're flustered with dirty thoughts. Things that you've never truly let yourself imagine about Senator Coriolanus Snow.

But now…

Well, now you find yourself closing your eyes and thinking about your boss while relaxing in your bath; trailing hand over your breasts while your other hand’s rubbing your clit; dipping two fingers in and out of your pussy.

It's best to get this out of your system now, before you're stuck going to dinner with him tonight.

“Coriolanus, I was expecting your driver to pick me up.” You gasp, hand tightly gripping the doorknob of your open door, as you're shocked by the sight of the tall platinum blonde standing in front of you- dressed impeccably in a deep crimson suit with a single red rose in his hand.

“Bentley drove me here.” Coriolanus informed you. “Now, what sort of gentleman would I be if I didn't walk up to your door to get you our dinner date?” He smirks, offering you the rose.

Your eyes widen at his words. “Dinner date…but I thought this was a professional dinner with a potential political backer, Senator Snow.” You tell him as you shakily take the offered rose from his large, outstretched hand.

“Yes, well, my darling, Mr. Feathersworth informed me that he's bringing along his mistress to Mizuna’s so I don't see why we can't mix some business with pleasure as well.”

Before you could utter a word, the door right across the hall and behind Coriolanus opened; out walked your on-off neighbor ex. Bastard was dressed like he's going out somewhere (or going out with someone). His sea-green eyes look over at you and lock Coriolanus back a bit curiously: portraying that he can't believe you're all dolled up and going out with someone so regal looking.

Deciding that you didn't like the look on your ex’s face, you put your hand on Coriolanus' label and press a quick kiss to his lips before telling him, “Let me put up this rose, Coryo, and then you can take me on our date.”

Coryo grabbed your face in one of his hands and kissed you again, this time his lips searing and hungry, before running his hand over your cheekbone and darkly smirking, “You can just take it along with us, darling. I'm taking you home with me tonight; it'd be such a shame for you to leave your rose alone on a side table all night.”

“You're taking me home with you?” You asked, finding this information entirely new to you.

At least your bronze haired ex wasn't standing behind Coryo; gawking at you anymore.

Pulling you out of your apartment and locking your doorknob, only to slam the door shut, he bluntly tells you, “I’d be a fool not to, Y/N, and, frankly, I'm anything, but a fool.” Coryo smoothly tell you while leading you down the hallway; towards the elevator bank.

And of course when you reach the elevator your ex is just stepping into it. Great, now you're going to be riding in an elevator with your on-off neighbor ex and your boss/sudden new fling.

Oh boy…

“After you, darling.” Coryo sweetly tells you, guiding you into the metal box while following right behind you.

You feel your ex’s eyes on you, burning a hole into the side of your face, as Coriolanus hits the buttons to both close the door and go to the lobby.

“Should've known you'd be cozy with Senator Snow, considering you're his personal secretary.” Flew out of your ex’s mouth as soon as he saw Coryo's large hand come to rest on the small of your back.

“Odysseus…” You chastise, nearly hissing at him.

Coriolanus snapped his head around so fast, it was as if it was going to spin off exorcist style, and narrowed his eyes at the bronze haired man next to you. “I can have you turned into an Avox for slander against Miss Y/N, so I’d mind that useless tongue of yours if I were you.”

“Coryo, calm down. My neighbor-”

“Ex” Odysseus supplied at the same time you uttered the word neighbor, causing Coriolanus’ face to turn into hardened stone.

“She doesn't belong to you anymore, Odysseus. My darling seems to have gotten tired of settling for beans and has upgraded to the filet mignon.” The senator told your ex in a smooth, but eerily cold tone. “You ought to consider yourself lucky that I won't be calling for your tongue, but I'm sure I'm we can agree to you not bothering my sweet girl anymore, can't we, Mister-”

“Odair. Name's Odysseus Odair, Senator Snow.” Your ex shot out, his voice fake and sugary, as he played with fire.

Snow melts, but fish fry. And unfortunately for Odysseus Odair he'd learn that the hard way after Senator Coriolanus Snow gets him exhiled to District 4 for the crimes of slander. Coriolanus' cold ass gives Poseidon Odair, Odysseus’ father, an ultimatum- either sign over his assets, investments, and company over to him and go into exhiled on 4 with his son or his son would be turned into an Avox for slander against you, the senator's personal secretary and girlfriend.

Coriolanus Snow was a cold ass to everyone except for you. Something that you'd come to discover in time. But right now it's not important.

No, right now what's important is keeping the senator from tearing your ex apart limb by limb.

Sensing that Coryo was starting to unravel (something that you've never seen and, frankly, didn't want to) you rubbed his shoulder while telling him, “Coryo, please, just let it go. You don't want to be in a bad mood before dinner with your political backer, do you?”

Coriolanus’ jaw twitched for a moment before he gave you a slight smile, “Of course, darling.”

Odysseus found Senator Snow's demanear changing into sweet and loving for you at the drop of a hat very alarming. Honestly, he thought it was downright scary that Snow went from menacing one minute to practically cooing at you the next.

As soon as the elevator came to a stop and the doors dinged open, your ex practically ran out of them. It made Coryo chuckle.

You and Coryo walked out of the elevator together, only to cross the lobby and head out of the building towards his car. His driver, Bentley, was standing by the black luxury sedan that was parked in front of the curb. Upon seeing you with the senator, he quickly opened the back door. You thanked him and let Coryo help you into the backseat.

“Oh, darling, I'm so sorry for not telling you earlier, but you look truly beautiful in your red dress.” Coryo told you, once he was settled in the back seat next to you.

“Thank you, Coryo. You look handsome yourself.” You replied with a smile as the driver took his place behind the wheel and pull the car away from your building.

“And tonight we'll make quite the debate as a stunning political couple.” The platinum blonde confidently told you as you rode to the high end restaurant the meeting with major political endorser Mr. Feathersworth, and his mistress, was taking place at.

Tonight is only the first of many spent at Coryo's side. It's safe to say that you're Senator Snow's darling sectary; that he has a soft spot for you. After all, he charmed you into becoming his girlfriend with the guise of attending a political dinner with him for work related purposes.

But you'd accept that dinner invitation again and again no matter what universe you're in because that dinner ended with Coryo fucking you in the backseat of his car. The poor driver nearly drove the car off a bridge and into the opposite lane of traffic he was so startled by what his boss and you were doing. Yes, the two of you still were clothed (for the most part) but Bentley knew that if he looked into the rearview mirror and saw something he wasn't supposed to then Snow would have his eyeballs pickled in a jar (literally!). And after fucking in the backseat of his car, a life was created with Coryo and you never left his side.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[alyseofwonderland]

the ending of the last of us being a point of discussion is one of those things that I know is going to be a breaking point for me. because i have been upset about it since the video game

BUT NOT FOR THE REASONS YOU THINK.

I’m mad that its even considered “a choice” for Joel to get Ellie out of there. THEY WERE DOING SCIENCE WRONG!!!

I’m sorry you don't kill your one immune specimen on the first fucking day! This is not how cures are found. How many tests did they run on Ellie? How much blood did they take? How many lab mice did they genetically alter and infect to see if it a replicalbe cure?

THE INCOMPETENCE OF THE FIREFLIES AND THEIR DOCTORS IS RAGE INDUCING. Living tissue it the key here people. Kill Ellie on day one and they can only test cures for as long as they have well preserved tissue samples which looking at the conditions in Last of Us, they dont have. This is a get it right the first time or you killed her for nothing set up.

That’s before the show decided to give us like an origin story of Ellie’s birth and we now have a clear picture of how she became immune. It was low grade inculcation. Cool neato. Marlene might not know what happened exactly but she certainly can put the pieces together. Marlene could have communicated what she knew of Ellie’s birth to the doctors and the fact that they have proof that Ellie is immune and from that information alone a good biologist could have started making test subject mice.

*pinches nose bridge*

I understand this is not the point. I really really do. I understand that the narrative and the discussion is supposed to center around the morals of One Life out weighting the Lives of Many. It’s supposed to be the exact opposite of all things Star Trek. EXCEPT THEY ARE TRYING TO PASS OFF SCIENCE THAT WOULD ONLY WORK IN A STAR TREK EPISODE. *deep calming breath*

Here’s the problem. The show and the video game want us to believe this is a morality question. Is it morally wrong for Joel to doom of of humanity to save his adoptive daughter? That’s the central question.

But if they were never gonna save humanity. If the Fireflies were just gonna kill Ellie the first day they have her then there’s no moral question. Or at least the question is different. We are now asking “Is it wrong to kill an entire building of people in order to stop them from committing a murder?”

If no cure can come from Ellie’s death (because we have established they would have never found it) then her life is more valuable than the lives of everyone in that building because she can survive situations no one else can. She could clear out whole infected towns one by one.

Anyway. Science Education People. Everyone needs more of it.

[phoenixblaze1412]

Heyy may I request dottore with a very sleepy (Fem/gn)Reader who always struggles with nightmares and staying awake

(idk what to do against my sleepiness :<)

Dottore, being a man of science, a doctor himself, has seen people go through various things. Whether it be painful to the person physically, mentally, or emotionally- he has seen it all. Even done it to others.

But when it comes to you, he wouldn't dare put you through that pain nor stress. So when he noticed something weird about your behavior. He has to know why.

Observation is always the first step a researcher must do in order to gather data. With his clipboard in hand, he watched you move around his office.

Subject: Y/N

Observations:

- Subject shows signs of lack of sleep due to the bags under their eyes.

- Subject has a hard time doing their assigned tasks; lack of focus, sluggish movements, constant yawning.

- When the Theta segment recommended them to sleep, subject reacted anxiously before declining their suggestion and stating they don't need it. Subject seems to be scared. Possibility that the subject is afraid of sleeping or something related to sleep?

Comments:

- Subject does not want to sleep due to something that is giving them constant fear. Best to question them on why they do not wish to sleep for almost a week now. Another solution is to give them a sedative that could help them recover the rest they needed.

After reviewing his notes for a second time and making sure he got everything, Dottore went off to find you.

"Darling?"

You hummed in reply, your tired eyes looking up at your partner. Dottore could only sigh when he saw the bags under your eyes becoming more worse by the day.

"Is there a reason on why you do not wish to slumber? I have noticed how you're struggling to even move around or speak due to your lack of rest. I suggest you tell me why, I'm beginning to worry that you might hurt yourself due to your fatigued mind."

You didn't give any replies, embarrassed about your reason. Already knowing that avoiding sleep would be pointless and the fatigue would catch up to you sooner. Your state couldn't even go unnoticed by the doctor himself.

So... how would you tell Dottore that you can't sleep due to your nightmares? Childish as it may, the constant horrific dreams you've been getting each day was the reason why you didn't bother to go back to sleep. Not even a wink or shuteye.

Without further delay, you decided to tell Dottore. The harbinger himself listening to every word, processing, even coming up with various solutions to at least comfort you. It's not really in his nature to do the latter but for you, he would do anything.

"Nightmares? And what, pray tell, are you having nightmares about? Is it due to the screams of the test subjects in their cells? The 'grotesque' view that others would find whenever I am in the middle of an experiment?"

Though the words he used may sound cold and blunt, the hand rubbing your head gave enough warmth and comfort. Dottore prefers to say things whatever it is.

What's the point of sugar-coating the truth when it's already in front of you, afterall? That is what Dottore would think.

Nevertheless, his actions does speak more than his words. He led you to sit on the couch he has in his office, letting you lean onto him as he gently pulled you by the waist to be closer to him while he listened to you vent out your nightmarish dreams.

"Is that so? I have a few suggestions that can be of help to you, darling. You see, I have concocted a little sedative, one that can easily make you fall asleep for.. let's say maybe twenty-four to thirty-six hours. Just enough to recover the rest you needed. I also have melatonin that could help you fall asleep. Hm.. maybe we should use them as a last resort."

Dottore had to be reminded that you cannot sleep due to your nightmares. Which caused him to stop in his rambles before crossing out the ideas he suggested.

He may have gotten a bit carried away.

You couldn't be upset at him, he is trying his best. It's the littlest things that matters, after all. Besides, he's never been in a serious relationship with anyone until you came into his life and you're probably the only one insane enough to even date the second harbinger.

"How about.. you sleep with me? You could use the rest too and I need someone to cuddle with so I don't get any nightmares."

"Cuddle? Darling, I am a doctor, a scientist. I may know the benefits of physical contact, hugging to be exact, to a person but I am not one to do such a thing--"

Dottore could even finish his sentence when you were already clinging onto him. Like a newborn to their parent, your arms were wrapped around the doctor's neck as you cuddled up to him. Said doctor could only lay stiffly on the couch, he really doesn't know what to do, you even pinned him down to the furniture and got into a position where you both would be comfortable. His fingers were twitching to flip the positions, with you laying on the couch instead so he could return to his work.

But you felt so warm and soft and so vulnerable even--

No. Bad. Keep yourself in check, Dottore.

"If you don't want to cuddle then it's alright. I can go back to my room."

Before you could even move away, Dottore kept you in place. His arms circling around your waist to keep you from getting out of his hold as he leaned his chin on top of your head. Luckily he wasn't wearing his mask or else it could have poked your eye.

"If this will be of help to let you sleep easier without anymore nightmares then go on ahead. You do know that the brain could eat itself if it lacks sleep for a long time."

You could only laugh in amusement at the information. Dottore would always tell science facts here and there whenever he is doing something very affectionately. It's an easy way to hide how flustered he is.

Your eyes started to feel heavy as you nuzzled more into Dottore's warmth. You felt something soft pressed against your forehead along with a small hum from the man holding you, causing you to smile as you slowly entered a deep slumber. Dottore's words being the last thing that you hear before entering your dreamland, this time, no more nightmares.

"Go to sleep now, darling. I'll be here till you wake up. I won't leave you alone with your nightmares this time."

[jockw]

Pas problème, mon amour

Strangely, the place I am at is the only one I know that uses colors - specifically was stated that they dislike following the system. Whereas exams don't naturally exist. How bizarre?

On the paper itself, you can see from 20:51 and ending at 21:06 just last year.

C'est une grande different, en plus das best wel behoorlijk grappig dat haar haren zijt te groot

Bah, reference originally from Pinterest (can't find which it was) and honestly that's such a weird way to see old to new art..??

[aydience-world]

Kai Chisaki's past headcanons

Since we won��t be getting any additional info anymore and for the sake of my own sanity, I have decided to create my own headcanon of Kai Chisaki’s past in detail and how he came to be the man we know as Overhaul based on the few crumbs we got in the manga. 

*Kai was born to a less than average income family and his parents also have similar deconstruct or reassemble quirks, although to much more limited matter.

*Overhaul is a complex quirk and young Kai initially struggled, especially with the reconstruction part. He would attempt to break down and repair his toys but fail more often than not. His parents were uncaring and did not make any effort to support or help their son improve his skill.

*A freak accident happens one day and Kai accidentally deconstructs one of his parents. Frightened, he tries to undo this accident but fails and his parent ends up completely disfigured. The remaining parent freaks out and says some atrocious things to him, similar words Overhaul used to say to Eri. (Ex. “Your existence is a curse”, etc.). I hc this happened when he was around 6-7 years old.

*Following this incident, the remaining parent takes their broken spouse and Kai to a quirk doctor, Dr Garaki, or another doctor associated with him. The doctor takes great interest in Kai’s ability and sees him as a potential candidate as one of AFO’s spare children. The parent wants to get rid of Kai asap and the doctor gladly takes him into the orphanage. Kai would be living there for several years.

*In the orphanage, Kai has to undergo a series of tests and exercises by making him use his quirk on objects, lab animals and sometimes even other children. This is where Kai begins to become more proficient in using his quirk, on both physical and living matter.

*The abandonment from his parents and the grotesque nature of the experiments causes Kai to fall into deep depression and existential crisis. At this point in his life, he hates his quirk and wonders why he was born with it, why was he born at all? He starts questioning everything. Where does this ability come from? Why do people like him exist? Why is the world this way in the first place?

*During one of the experiments, Kai brings up one of his questions to Dr Garaki, who answers what scientists currently know and while there is no concrete evidence, there are several theories, one of them being the mice theory which deduces that quirks are a virus originating from mice. He refers Kai to the small library in the orphanage.

*Kai then proceeds to read several books and science journals about this quirk phenomenon to understand the origin of quirks and the current state of humanity and studies the mice theory. To him, it all comes together. Quirks are a plague, a virus which comes from dirty animals which explains why quirks mutate so rapidly. Among all the material he has read, this had to be the truth because it made the most sense.  The reason why he’s the way he is and the reason why his parents abandoned him. He realized they are all infected and quirks don’t have any cure. This realization drives him into a frenzy and he develops a germaphobia, specifically against quirk users, since they will always remind him of the mice theory.

*Due to his phobia, Kai develops a further disgust for people and keeps to himself, avoiding other children in the orphanage.  He prefers to keep to himself and read books, learning new things about science and the world. He never formed any meaningful relationships in the orphanage.

*After some time Tenko was born, AFO began searching for the right quirk in the orphanages that he could give him to make Tenko an ultimate weapon of destruction and hate. Thanks to all the tests and experiments, Kai’s quirk catches AFO’s attention and he instructs Garaki to make a stronger copy of Overhaul but remove the reassemble part since the quirk should only be used to destroy.

*This time, Garaki needs to restrain Kai in order to extract his quirk genes to make a copy that focuses on the deconstruction part and enhance it, which would eventually become Decay. This would be done by Dr Garaki extracting blood and small pieces of flesh from Kai.

*Now, this experiment was not simply just to make a copy and remove the secondary function, the deconstruction part needed to be much more destructive at a much faster rate and unlike Overhaul, which only affects a single target, Decay has to affect multiple targets through a domino effect. It takes numerous tries to achieve this outcome. Other children would be given the copy to test it and many would perish in the creation of this quirk.

*The continuous pain and physical contact during the experiment leaves Kai in a frenzy and he completely breaks out in hives multiple times throughout the process. Regardless, the experiment continues until Decay turns out the way Garaki and AFO envision. This trauma continues until adulthood and he now breaks out in hives whenever someone touches him.

*At last, Decay is complete and AFO proceeds to give it to Tenko. Garaki doesn’t bother healing Kai because he knows Kai can fix himself. He is released back into the orphanage but has to stay there in case AFO needs any adjustments. He is still traumatized from the experiment and hates his quirk even more. He blames his quirk more than Garaki.

*Tenko’s quirk activated for the first time which meant the experiment was a success for AFO and Garaki. AFO informs Garaki about the progress and he leaves the orphanage to help him with the preparations of grooming Tenko. (Tenko was 5 years old when this happened so Kai is 12 at this point). A substitute is assigned to the orphanage during Garaki’s absence but they don’t really come through. Only a handful of kids are left since most of them died during the creation of Decay. With all the attention on Tenko, the children left at the orphanage are neglected and left to starve.

*Eventually Kai has enough and uses his quirk to escape. He runs into the night, not looking back or stopping until his legs can’t take it anymore. He wonders why he didn’t escape sooner but realizes he has nowhere to go and wanders aimlessly alone through the streets at night.

*He has a small panic attack and hives outbreak but this is overshadowed by hunger and fatigue. Eventually exhaustion takes over and he slumps down against a wall in an alley, falling asleep on the street.

*He wakes up the next morning, covered in dust and dirt from the ground but the raging hunger is too distracting to care. He looks for food but no one is willing to help this dirty kid. He considers going through trash but can’t bring himself to and goes on hungry.

*It’s already afternoon and only then does someone notice Kai. A middle-aged man calls his attention, offering to help him get home. Realizing this child doesn’t have a home, he adopts Kai and makes him part of the Shie Hassaikai.  To Kai, this act of kindness would never be forgotten and swore to himself he would repay this kindness no matter what.

*The life of a yakuza is not exactly the most suitable environment for a child/teen to grow up in, and “affection” would be shown through tough love or ’roughing up until set straight’. (The traditional Asian way).  Pops did attempt to ask Kai about his past but Kai’s answers are very vague so Pops does not pry further. The trauma doesn’t get addressed and shows some behavioral problems from him later on.

*Kai eventually befriends Kurono Hari who grew up with the Shie Hassaikai. Hari shows Kai the ropes of being a yakuza, and also gives him tips about the gangster life. Kai quickly adapts into his new home and Hari becomes his closest and most trusted friend, joining and supporting whatever Kai comes up with.

*Kai truly cherishes Pops and his new home, to the point that he gets into fights with other kids for insulting his new home, or comparing them to villains, who he considers sick. Pops thanks him for defending the Shie Hassaikai’s honor and Kai makes this his life mission. As mentioned before, Pops showed affection through a “tough love” style, so hearing praise like this was rare. Kai secretly craved to be given more appreciation and affection, which is something he never received as a child, and the reason why he goes far and beyond just to ‘repay his debt’ to Pops.

*Eventually, Kai comes to terms with his “infection”. The quirk he blamed for his abandonment and suffering is now seen as a tool he needs to use to defend the Shie Hassaikai. And he knows his quirk makes him powerful. He needs this power to protect his home and become the man the Shie Hassaikai needs. 

*Kai started wearing a facemask during his teenage years, wanting to protect himself from breathing the same air as his filthy, quirk-ridden classmates. 

*The exposure to illicit activities and fights among gangs and other gang members made Kai truly develop his fighting and social skills. He learns how to charm, manipulate and intimidate to get his way. Above all, he leaves his enemies dead or near dead after a battle, instilling fear in not only rival gangs but also his own members. He quickly becomes well-known among the yakuzas as a deadly and fearsome individual who should not be taken lightly. Pops does not approve of Kai getting into these kinds of fights but Kai considers this part of repaying his debt.

*The yakuza influence is diminishing in society as one after another organization gets disbanded. Kai is hurt from seeing their organization backed into a corner and he blames the quirk plague, believing that quirks cause further delusion to use them for heroic or villainous causes. He imagines that the world would be a more ideal place for the yakuza if there were no more quirks. No heroes to oppose them and no villains to take their rightful place in the underworld.

*He proceeds to make the Shie Hassaikai more powerful by gaining more recruits and money. He does so by getting into ring fights to garner more respect and also starts businesses such as loan sharks and drug dealing for more income. Pops also does not approve of this and calls him out.

*Pops and Kai frequently clash about his methods. Pops believes in adjusting to the new normal as a yakuza but Kai cannot agree to this and wants the yakuza to come back to power, standing by ‘the end justifies the means’ philosophy. 

*One fateful day, Pops’ daughter calls him out of the blue, panicked about her daughter’s ability, unceremoniously drops Eri off at the Shie Hassaikai’s compound and leaves to be never heard of again. Pops notices that Eri’s quirk has similarities to Kai’s and (foolishly) thinks it would be a good idea to have Kai look after her and study her, somehow hoping Kai would connect to her and have something else to do rather than engaging in criminal businesses.

*There is an instant aversion towards Eri when Kai first sees her, which is because she reminds him too much of himself. But then he studies and starts understanding her ability, realizing she could actually revert back humanity to their original state- quirkless. After all this time, all the suffering caused by quirks, the hopeless truth of the mice theory- at last there was an answer and Eri could make it all go away. He finds a way to use her quirk genes the very same way Garaki had done to him. He comes up with a plan that not only answers his questions to his former existential crisis, but also a way to help the Shie Hassaikai. If there were no more heroes or villains to oppose their place, the yakuza could rise to power again. In addition to that, they could also make so much money if they monopolized quirks. All the previous struggles he had could be fixed through Eri.

*Kai proposes this plan to Pops and we all know how that ended. When Pops threatens to kick him out, Kai falls into despair, afraid to lose the one thing that matters most to him. He puts Pops into a coma so he can proceed with his plan unopposed but he does feel very guilty about hurting him but comforts himself in the thought that all of what he’s doing is for Pops, to repay his kindness. He discards his name, going by the name of his quirk instead which he formerly detested, and wears a plague mask instead, symbolizing he is on the pursuit to cure the world.

Spoiler alert: no more arms and no more Shie Hassaikai.

[peterparkouryo]

operation, distract | ﹒⪩⪨﹒

﹒⪩⪨﹒

prompt; You're second best in every class you have with Peter Parker, and you decide that has to change.

warnings: fluff and banter, maybe typos nd stuff

word count: 1.4k

a/n: this is short and bad, just a lil sumn for y'all since i've been gone for two whole months :(

You hated the feeling of seeming or even being remotely close to the brink of a failure. 

Which, yes is something every human has to go through in life in order to get to the top, but it's hard to lose all the time. You'd like to think you were a really good person, a great one even. Always helping out your community, all that good people stuff, and you were really smart, so smart that you're almost top of all your classes.

Just almost, though.

The thing is, when you want to make it to the top and be the best, there's obviously always going to be some sort of obstacle. Your obstacle is, Peter Parker.

Just thinking of his name makes that big fat vein form on your forehead, because of course someone as socially awkward and conveniently attractive as him has to be your competition to prove your smartness.

Peter is sweet, that much you can admit, but not to you and only because you dislike him just as much as he dislikes you. He can pretend he doesn't but you know your irritation and insults toward him really sets him off, which albeit is sometimes hilarious, but the boy's presence is insufferable and no matter what anyone says you, you will never like him.

You might be overreacting, and to be fair it's a possibility that you are, but is it your fault that every time you two share a class he just has to rub it in your face that he can solve math problems faster than you? Or that he has an internship with THE Tony Stark? It's unfair and you can't help but feel a little jealous.

"I hate gym." Cindy grumbles and sits next to you on the bleachers, and you pay her complaints no mind as you study for an upcoming test.

"Y/N?" She waves a hand in your face and you have to psychically fight back an eye roll just to look at the girl.

Cindy Moon is one of your only friends (sadly) and she's so sweet and understanding toward you when you want to rant about how hard your life is or how unfair the justice system is, which is something you two have in common.

"What?"

"Are you listening?" 

"No." You go back to studying.

Before you can reread the paragraph you were looking at, Cindy closes your book and you look over at the girl in disbelief and frustration.

"Why did you just do that?" You glare at her as she innocently shrugs.

"Talk to me!" She pouts, you look away with a huff.

Another thing is, she's annoyingly good at getting what she wants, especially from you.

"I'm trying to study Cin, maybe later," You reach for your book and she moves it out of your reach.

You show her a disapproving look.

"Why do you need to study? You're the smartest person ever."

You show her a fake smile and reach for the book again.

"Thanks but if I want to be top of my science class, I need to study, no give me the book." You start climbing onto her lap to get the book.

All Cindy does is laugh at the lengths you're going to, and you both pay no mind to the staring students.

"We look like lesbians." She jokes and your eyes go wide, quickly looking behind you two at the lingering gazes.

Your embarrassment is probably evident so you decide to get out of your friend's lap before your lazy excuse of a gym teacher and other students think the wrong thing.

"Just give me the book," You sit next to her again.

"Fine, you're no fun." Cindy gives you the book and you smile in accomplishment.

A few peaceful minute go by, and the gym class drags on for another fifty minutes at you study in somewhat silence as Cindy watches a small basketball game going on, on the other side of the gym.

"Uh oh, Peter missed the shot." She mumbles and you snap your head up, looking in the direction she stared.

If there was one thing you wanted to see, was Peter Parker fail.

Unfortunately all hopes and dreams crash and burn because when you look at the small basketball game, you see Peter shoot the ball into the basket and you roll your eyes at your dumb luck.

Another few minutes past and the basketball game was over, thankfully, now you can study in peace as your friend is now reading a book you had so kindly recommended (you didn't).

"Hey Cin, and goodie two shoes," An annoying voice distracts you from your studying and you try to ignore him and his voice as Cindy looks up with a smile and greets him back.

"Hey Peter, good game," She nods, and you continuing studying.

"Y'know there's no point in studying when I'm just gonna get the highest grade anyway." Peter brags and if you weren't so bothered by his presence your left eye wouldn't twitch at his words.

You rub your forehead and look up at him with a subtle glare, he shows you a smile as you finally give him what he wanted.

In all honesty, what you wanted was to not be bothered by him and, his unruly sweaty hair, flushed face and—stop.

"Who asked you?" You raise your eyebrow with an irritated tone, and you can feel Cindy grow uncomfortable.

Peter just smiles at your question.

"I'm just saying, like sure you're smart, but you're not exactly 'Peter' smart." He emphasized with a shrug.

"Is smart Peter in the room with us right now?" You tilt your head and hear Cindy snort at your expense.

His smile drops and you watch as jaw clenches at your words.

"Funny,"

"I try."

The silence takes over and you can't decide to either be thankful or what, and the tension is painfully palpable. The only thing you can do is stare at him as he stares at you. A staring contest you didn't want.

Cindy has to break the death glares you two were sending each other.

"Are you going to Flash's party?" She asks Peter and you want to hug her for saving the day.

Peter's gaze linger on you for awhile before looking at Cindy with a smile way different from the glare or whatever he was showing you a mere second ago.

"No, I wasn't invited." He shrugs.

"And a good thing too." You grumble, Cindy nudges you at that.

"Well I was thinking you come with me and Y/N, if you have nothing better to do." The girl offers with a grin.

You knew your kindness would come back and bite you, and she was proving to be no better as a "friend" by inviting your arch nemesis.

"Are you sure witches are even allowed to parties?" Peter looks at Cindy with fake concern and you go to stand up to attack but your friend grabs your hand.

And of course all Peter can do is smile at your reaction.

"Anyway, you should come, it'd be fun."

Peter considers this and nods at your friend with an awkward smile, and if you didn't despise everything he did, you'd think it was adorable.

"I'll think about it, thanks." He smiles before bidding his goodbyes to her, because god forbids he even thinks of saying another word to you.

Once Peter leaves you snatch your hand away and look at Cindy with a fuming expression.

"Why did you invite the real life walking devil to go to that party with us?" You shake your head in disbelief.

Cindy snickers and you're even more bewildered.

"Because, it's so obvious you two like each-other." She laughs.

You wanted to vomit at her words of disrespect. Like Peter? That's rich.

"Oh no, no I do not like Peter, trust me." You argue with a laugh.

Cindy nods, obviously unconvinced just as the bell rings for the next class.

"Sure and I don't have a crush on Keanu Reeves." She stands up and walks to the girl's locker room, you follow.

"But you do."

"Exactly." She shrugs and you roll your eyes.

"I do not like Peter, believe me." You try your hardest to embed that in your friend's head.

As you two walk into the locker room, she turns around.

"I guess we'll see at the party, yeah?" Cindy turns back around and puts in her combination to her locker before unlocking it.

You groan and do the same with yours.

You hated the fact that now there's was a possibility of you liking Peter, when of course you showed no signs of ever even considering him as more than a person you wanted to prove better than.

That's what it is, and that's what it'll be. 

Peter is nothing more than a person you want to prove better than.

there's obv gonna be a part two

[getvalentined]

I've never done a full breakdown of everything that happened to my version of Vincent while he was under the knife (although there is a partial breakdown from like 12 years ago on Ask Vincent Valentine), but @spinejackel tagged my recent Vincent doodle gushing about autopsy scar (Vincent Has a Y-Incision headcanon supremacy!) so I figured it was probably a good time. This is also probably the best method, since I can apply the right tags and trigger warnings to hopefully keep it from hitting the people who would be disturbed.

For anyone who doesn't know, figuring out the fucked up physiology of victims of science is like my entire jam. I think this is what happens when you let a chronically ill child watch Akira and the original Bubblegum Crisis OVA and most of the works of Masamune Shirow. All that before FF7 even existed. This means that the explanation under the cut may seem excessive, and this post is very long. I've been building it over over a quarter century, I don't think there's any avoiding it at this point.

Warnings for body horror, nonconsensual body modification, medical horror and torture. Basically, if there's anything you can think of related to becoming a victim of science under the rule of an unethical sci-fantasy oligarchy, it's probably in here to some degree. It's explained plainly and simply, in clinical but not visceral detail.

My headcanons for what Hojo did to Vincent are pretty specific, albeit not precisely comprehensive; 27 years later I still don't really have a particularly solid concept for how he turned Vincent into a shapeshifter, although at least we know it's not something entirely specific to Vincent—Hojo repeated that facet of the experiment in Azul, but not in any other SOLDIER operative even in DeepGround, implying that it's only possible if very specific physiological conditions are met. The minimal concept I do have involves a twisted application of the concept of incarnate summoning as it appears in FFXIII-2, but it's very vague and also not the topic of this post. Maybe later.

Regarding the Y-incision/autopsy scar, my headcanon is that once Hojo tweaked Vincent into being able to regenerate from any injury—an enhancement that is confirmed to be entirely Hojo's work in Dirge—the professor of course felt it necessary to run various tests quantify the usefulness of his handiwork. He did this first by inflicting various surface injuries, then by causing more extreme bodily trauma, which eventually culminated in Hojo removing the majority of Vincent's internal organs in order to measure how long it took them to grow back and, assuming they did grow back, how the new ones compared to Vincent's original parts.

To be able to observe this as closely as possible, Hojo kept Vincent's torso open for the entire process—which he repeated twice more in order to check the weight, size and structure of the newly-grown organs in comparison to the originals. This study proved that most of them did grow back, but the majority of them stopped developing much earlier than was appropriate for Vincent's age and size. The difference was consistent, Hojo just never figured out why most of them grew back smaller and less-developed.

The reason this happened is based the fact that most of the organs in the human trunk are used in digestion and other related processes, and Vincent's regeneration means he doesn't need to eat or drink anymore. His body only expended as much energy as was completely necessary to develop those organs to the point of being functional rather than normal, because they're not really necessary. Vincent is glad he still has them, though, because he does still occasionally eat (usually in social situations) and also he'd be really sad if he couldn't even have coffee.

Vincent's brain activity remained normal during the entire process, although that may have something to do with Hojo driving a bunch of fluid lines into his head and flooding the inside of his skull with mako to keep him awake the whole time even while deprived of oxygen. (Rebirth spoilers, but seeing the bit in the Nibelheim Protorelic questline where Hojo does something super similar to this, after this has been my headcanon for decades, was a trip.)

Two organs didn't grow back at all: Vincent's appendix and one kidney. This was also the result of efficient energy expenditure, as the human appendix isn't necessary for survival, and only one kidney is really required. (Each time Hojo removed the new kidney, the one that grew back would be on the opposite side, which bothered Hojo to no end.)

His lungs grew back a little larger, possibly because his skeletal structure never quite recovered after his first transformation into Galian—his arms and legs are noticeably too long for his body, although not to the point of looking impossible, and likewise his ribcage settled to breadth that would allow for larger lungs. He doesn't really need these anymore either, related to his brain being exposed to so much mako during the process that it can now operate without oxygen if necessary, but switching himself over from aerobic to anaerobic respiration is really unpleasant and Vincent tries to avoid it when he can.

His heart was pretty normal by the time Hojo was done with him, although his heartrate had dropped to like 20bpm even when elevated. Again, if respiration isn't necessary, there's not much reason for the system to be active. (By the time Lucrecia was done this had dropped to around 5bpm on average, although it's completely arrhythmic and jumps all over the place when he's not either particularly active or on the verge of a transformation.)

This was the experiment that left Vincent susceptible to degradation, which Hojo didn't realize until after finally closing him back up. Upon realizing that Vincent's body wasn't responding properly to a different test (a repetition of an earlier experiment related to the regeneration of external tissues and features), Hojo just kinda threw him in a tube to be disposed of at a later date, kinda like that scene in Arrested Development where there's that dead dove in a bag in the fridge. The incision healed at some point during the period that Lucrecia was working on him, but early enough in her work that the tissue couldn't flawlessly regenerate (like it does in the present), leaving him with one more gnarly scar on top of all the rest.

Vincent is self-conscious about all the physiological changes brought on by what was done to him, often to the point of loathing. His left arm is the worst—it rotted off while he was in the throes of degradation and grew back as something that he hesitates to call his arm—but Vincent hates that Y-incision scar almost as much. Some days they tie.

(It has come up in appropriately horrified conversation with Shalua that, considering how his regeneration works, Vincent could probably get rid of all the scars on his chest if he somehow peeled the skin off his torso in a single swath. He will not be doing that. Besides, it might grow back the wrong color/texture/etc, like his left arm. Not worth the risk, much less the suffering.)

Also I gotta finish off this entry with the extremely stupid headcanon reveal that Vincent's (honestly fairly impressive) dick was cut off during the first round of bodily trauma regeneration tests—and Hojo has never felt the sort of rage he experienced upon discovering that it grew back bigger than before. This occurred early enough in the experiments that Vincent was not awake for it, and thus has no idea how the fuck this happened, and does not want to talk about it ever thank you very much. I've never mentioned it in public anywhere because it is extremely stupid, but I hope someone out there finds it as funny a concept as I do.

[hiddensideoflife]

Retrograde Planets in Your Birth Chart: A Blessing or a Curse

One thing that many Astrologers agree on is that when a retrograde planet is in the sky it is closer to the earth and is a time to reflect inwards. When we look at Rahu (The North Node) and Ketu (The South Node), many will exclude these shadow nodes of the moon from this explanation. There are some similarities here. What is felt and experienced with Rahu and Ketu is often on a psychological or emotional level. The subtle energies have a way of triggering the subconscious mind, bringing past life issues, deep desires or wounds to the surface. Retrograde planets have a way of encouraging the same level of introspection. But when a soul actually turns inward, how does the person end up behaving outwardly?

One way Astrology has been able to advance in terms of prediction is that some Astrologers look at the stars and the events scientifically. Many infamous Astrologers like K.N. Rao have studied various charts to try to understand how planets will influence events. This type of study can only be validated by understanding what has already happened after the fact. This benefits students of Astrology greatly, but even K.N. Rao has said himself that in order for the science of Astrology to grow and evolve, we must continue to research and perform such tests and case studies. He highlights the evolution of man and how certain perceptions of planets and how they would perform, as well as views about karma, careers and events are often shaped by certain worldviews of the Astrologers within a certain period of time.

As an example, in 1987, when K. N Rao started his Astrology school, very traditional thinkers of the time thought that Astrology should only be taught to certain people within one belief or caste and women were certainly not a part of this group. However, Rao believed that anyone should be taught no matter who wanted to learn. He has Retrograde Uranus in Pisces (sidereal) in his natal chart. He revived Astrology to an immense level, but he also elevated the manner in which predictions were given, and he generated a higher amount of devotion amongst the people to spirituality and the ashrams.

People who have direct planets may follow the normal order of things within the house that the planet resides, but where there is a retrograde planet as we asked earlier, what happens when a soul turns inward to gain insight and to express their ideas and nature to the outside world? In some cases, they may appear delusional or crooked. The soul may not be accepted or understood by society. K.N. Rao’s suggestion to understand Astrology is based on research and staying up with the times. His ideas and thoughts were literally “out of this world.” A retrograde planet will give the native ideas and ways of doing things that are completely different or opposite from present tradition within a society.

In the end, someone has to go inward to elevate the level of consciousness of humanity. We cannot all follow tradition. Otherwise, how will we challenge areas that need to change and evolve? Not everyone can follow the right teachers and gurus, have the best upbringing and education according to current accepted norms. Someone has to go through hardship. Someone needs to have a path that deviates from what is accepted so that this soul can have no other choice but to turn to the Source within to gain new intel that will help us grow as a collective. Where do we think the insight came from that the teachers and gurus that we follow possess? Many souls followed what these gurus have said, but the gurus themselves in some cases did not have a teacher to follow or the teacher was only able to take them but so far. The Self was able to give them something powerful that we did not have prior and this new way of thinking and being created a new movement or tradition. People with retrograde planets are called, arguably even more so than others, to turn inward to realize something new that society needs. Until the soul goes within, they will not know what. And the path must be crooked. If the path was a straight line and it was easy, the soul would likely not turn within themselves for answers.

Wherever you have a retrograde planet in your birth chart, know that this area of life will likely not be a straight road. There will appear to be setbacks and struggles. Some might say this is due to bad karma or that you are cursed. If this is so, let us help you realize that you are then cursed to turn to the highest of divinity which lies within. If you can weather the storms and extract the knowledge through the obstacles, you will in turn see that this placement is more than the outward curse perceived by people who lack understanding. It is in fact one of the highest blessings a soul could ask for as your purpose is definitely to make a mark on the world in some manner if you are able to harness the immense potential that resides in the house placement of the retrograde position. Our advice to you is to TURN INWARD. The answers you seek will begin to unravel your journey to help you decode the inner workings of the Universe and the potential that is within you.

Namaste…

[allthingslinguistic]

Summer 2024 travel plans and Language Guinea Pig Diaries

In August and September, I'm doing a bunch of travel to various European countries. In order, they are:

Glasgow, Scotland for World Science Fiction Convention (WorldCon), where I'll be on a panel about Languages as World-Building and doing assorted meetups

Helsinki, Finland for the Societas Linguistica Europea annual meeting

Tartu, Estonia for a colloquium talk on Applying Linguistic Methods to Linguistic Communication at the University of Tartu and a two-part workshop on lingcomm for participants of Methodological Excellence in Data-Driven Approaches to Linguistics (MEDAL)

Nijmegen, Netherlands for some meetings with linguists

Florence, Italy to visit friends

Madrid, Spain for the publication of the Spanish translation of Because Internet by Pie de Página

I hope to run into lots of interesting people at these events! If you're already in one of these places and I know you, including from the interent, feel free to reach out and see if we can fit something in!

This whirlwind list of events and places has also gotten me thinking: this trip is going to be a fun chance to learn some more about some languages! I'm already fairly familiar with Spanish and Scottish English (I doubt people will speak much Broad Scots to me with my Canadian accent), and I'm confident on my ability to brush up on them by a bit of exposure and possibly watching a relevant movie on the way there, but the other four languages are going to take a bit more doing. Here's my initial situation, in order of familiarity:

Italian - I studied it for two years in undergrad and spent about a week in Italy shortly thereafter, and by the end of the week I was finally beginning to feel like it was starting to "click" but then I haven't really touched it since then. So I feel like it would come back with exposure but I wonder if there's something I could do in advance to help it come back sooner/faster rather than taking the whole week of being there again

Dutch - I went through the whole Duolingo tree on rapid-speed back when you could skip through lessons for new material only and not practice drills over about a year in 2019-ish just for fun and as an excuse to look up lots of Germanic roots (I studied German before I knew any linguistics so it was fun to triangulate there). Never actually been anywhere Dutch was being spoken but I did find I could get the gist of youtube videos about linguistics in Dutch so it probably needs "activation" similar to Italian

Finnish - No background except for a few linguistics factoids (case! vowel harmony!), and that it's a Uralic language (related to Hungarian but not to any of the Indo-European languages, so this is a fun chance to learn some things about a language family that's unfamiliar to me)

Estonian - Also no background, also Uralic, clearly the fun thing to do would be to learn enough bits of Estonian and Finnish that I could compare them with each other (also since I'm meeting with linguists in both countries, this would be a fun topic for small talk conversation)

At the same time, there are a lot of language learning strategies floating around out there, and I have two nearly matched pairs of languages on this list: Italian and Dutch, both of which I am pretty good at cognate languages for and have studied some a while back, so I could test two activation strategies, and Finnish and Estonian, both of which I have essentially zero familiarity with, so I could test two strategies for getting somewhere near a basic functional ability.

I have about a month until I start this cycle with a flight to Helsinki. One month, four languages. What could possibly go wrong?

Here's my tentative plan so far:

Activation, Italian and Dutch - I'm pretty sure what I need for these languages is largely as much audio imput as possible (given what's feasible around like, all the other things going on in my life). I've decided to aim to watch one or two youtube videos in Italian per day, focusing on relatively concrete, daily life topics (such as gelato making) and to listen to one episode of a podcast in Dutch per day, aiming to get through the back catalogue of Kletsheads, a podcast about multilingual children.

Why these strategies? Well, I'm meeting up with linguists in the Netherlands but not in Italy, so it makes sense to try to learn more linguistics vocab there. Also, I'm curious about the effect of medium between video and podcast: will being able to see people talking and what they're talking about have much of an effect on how much I can understand? Will I find it easier to integrate one or the other of watching videos vs listening to podcasts into my life at a practical level? Plus, will concentrating on a single, more academic topic vs watching a scattered, unsystematic list of videos have effects on my vocabulary?

Basic function, Finnish and Estonian - I'm probably looking for some phrases to say to people in shops and restaurants and the ability to pronounce things written on menus adequately and match heard words/placenames to written versions on signs. I started doing a very minimal one lesson a day on Duolingo for Finnish in January, when planning for this trip started, for the very simple reason that I was already familiar with Duolingo and it doesn't have Estonian, so I decided to just start by doing a thing I was familiar with until I got around to doing more research. I've been casting around trying to figure out a source of basic Estonian phrases online when a friend mentioned learning French on tiktok, so I searched for "learn estonian" and voila! I think I'll also aim for a video or two of Estonian phrases per day but I want to do more rewatching than with Italian or Dutch, since I'm aiming to remember specific common phrases. So maybe one rewatched video and one new video, per day? They're shorter on tiktok than on youtube.

Why these strategies? This is a comparison of Duolingo's more systematic approach with lots of repetition and gamification and word-by-word translation in a relatively sterile environment versus a more organic and free-styling approach with more grounding in real people and faces and full phrases where I'm not really trying to understand the individual words. There are lots of factors to compare and it's not a completely fair comparison since I started Duolingo in January and I only thought to start the TikTok idea this week, but hey, learning anything still counts as progress.

Summary: I have four languages, each focused on a different app: YouTube, my podcast app, Duolingo, and TikTok. Hopefully for the video apps, this will help their algorithms kick in and start recommending me further useful videos. The difference between the two video strategies is that for Italian, I'm watching monolingual videos that are aimed at people who already speak Italian and just want to learn something about the topic, whereas for Estonian, I'm watching bilingual videos aimed at English speakers who want to learn some words or phrases in Estonian.

Am I going to get these four languages mixed up? Probably! I'm hoping that choosing a different app/strategy for each is a little bit helpful on that front.

Do I think these strategies are optimal? Probably not! But I'm aiming to choose things that feel relatively clear to implement consistently, rather than getting bogged down in researching language learning methods instead of actually getting exposure to the languages. I'll probably do a basic "look up some key phrases and try to learn them" a day or two before entering each place too. And maybe shift other aspects depending on how things are going, stay tuned!

At any rate, I figured it would be more fun to blog about my attempts to use myself as a guinea pig for a few different language learning strategies here than to just do it in my own head (and hopefully help me with staying motivated). And maybe people will have tips of either language learning strategies that have worked for you in general or specific ideas for these particular languages, so this is the beginning of a series that I'm calling #Language Guinea Pig Diaries and future posts will also be posted under that tag!

[bqstqnbruin]

Sidney Crosby Teacher AU

Anotha one

Teacher AU series

Warnings: Age gap (both are adults)

WC: 927

_______________

Pay attention. All he had to do was pay attention. He’s been at this for years, there was no reason why he shouldn’t be able to pay attention to the district’s lawyer talking about all the legal things they needed to know. It was the same thing that he went on about every single year, but it was still important to pay attention.

It all started going downhill when they walked in to the gym to find it set up for their professional development, but with assigned seating like they were younger than the students they taught. Admin said it was because they wanted to make sure all the departments were mixed together for ‘different perspectives,’ but if Sidney was being honest, he and the rest of the teachers sat with their departments because they liked each other. The history department didn’t particularly like some of the science department.

It was worse for Sidney when he realized that he was seated next to the one art teacher he shouldn’t be next to. Ivy was still in high school when he started teaching (not at the same school), and yet, there she was in all her zany glory that Sidney couldn’t stop thinking about. 

She was sitting so close to him, very clearly not paying attention to anything the lawyer was saying in front of them. She was on her computer, scrolling through Pinterest looking at what he was pretty sure were lesson ideas.

Ivy Reid was the exact opposite sort of teacher compared to Sidney. He had his lessons planned out down to the minute, something he prided himself on since so many other teachers said that it was impossible to do that. He had the entire unit planned out before they started it, knowing the test and quiz questions he would ask his students, who would do well and who would need more attention based on the content. He had to have everything in order so that he could keep track of every one of his students and what they needed to get the most out of his class. Everything had a place and everything was in its proper place so anyone could come into his classroom and know what to do.

Ivy, from what his students told him, was a teacher who did whatever she wanted. If her students wanted to do one project over another, she let them do it. They had what she referred to as ‘total artistic freedom’ in her class, and her grading them was based on their own self reflection. There was no right and wrong in her class, only satisfaction or disappointment in their own work. Even walking into her room, which he did once because he was told her classroom was the best space for a committee meeting, made him anxious. Nothing had a place, papers everywhere, art projects wherever they fit and could stand without falling on the floor. The chairs were covered in clay and paint, the tables sticky with glue or some other substance.

She was fascinating to him. 

Sidney let out a sigh, the lawyer still droning on about who knows what at this point. “Aren’t you supposed to listen to this?” he whispers to her.

Ivy looks up from her computer, a strand of hair from the bun messily tied on top of her head falling over her eyes. She blows it out of the way, shrugging. “We get the powerpoint after, anyway. Might as well use this time for something useful.” 

Sidney tried to keep his gaze fixed on the projector in front of him, not knowing what else to say. He kept glancing over at her, the overalls covered in paint, the t-shirt that showed off the tattoo on her upper arm that was technically against their handbook, the ripped sneakers a direct contrast to his pressed dress pants, crisp white dress shirt and a tie with a little bit of a pattern. 

He was mesmerized by her. 

The lawyer finishes the presentation, with a last minute, ‘and I’ll send the powerpoint to all of you this afternoon,’ when one of the assistant principals stands up and starts her tangent as to what they were going to be doing for the next half hour. Sidney couldn’t tune in before he heard the other teachers groaning and muttering under their breath, despite the smile on the AP’s face. 

“Looks like you’re my partner,” Ivy says, gesturing to the screen that has their names right next to each other.

“I have no idea what we’re doing,” he immediately admits, neither of them moving from their seats as everyone gets up and shuffles around. 

Ivy shrugs, letting out a short laugh that made Sidney squirm in his seat. “We’re just talking about what we did this summer.” Sidney nods. “I guess I’ll go first. I went down to DC for an art teachers institute for a week, read a lot, and broke up with my boyfriend, so you could finally ask me out.”

Sidney felt his eyes nearly pop out of his head. “What?”

“Would you rather I ask you out?”

“What?” he repeats.

Ivy scoffs. “You obviously like me, and I’m not gonna lie and say I don’t like you.”

“You’re too young for me,” is the only argument he could come up with to object from something he didn’t fully comprehend how badly he wanted.

“Ten years is nothing when you’re both adults with fully developed frontal lobes.” Sidney sits there with his mouth hanging open. “So, what do you say?”

“Yes.”

[saintsenara]

At what age do you think Snape joined the death eaters? And when do you think he got the dark mark? (it's hard for me to believe that all death eaters got them right when they joined, but if you think differently, I'm open to reading why)

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i'm currently writing a big "snape's experience in the first war" fic - scylla and charybdis [don't be put off by the pairing! it's really all about politics! don't be put off by that either!] - so this is, unsurprisingly, a question i've spent a lot of time musing on.

the timeline i'm laying out in the fic is that snape's first contact with the death eaters as an organisation comes in the summer of 1976 - when he's just finished his fifth year of school and is, since his relationship with lily has only just broken down, raw and angry and unmoored, and primed for radicalisation.

it's clear in canon that the death eaters were recruiting openly at hogwarts during the 1970s, especially within slytherin, by exploiting not only the social networks caused by all the pureblood families being interrelated, but also the social ties which existed between recent graduates and those still at school. lucius malfoy - for example - is heavily implied in the text to be one of voldemort's primary sources of new recruits, and to be the person responsible for putting snape in touch with the dark lord specifically.

[it's also clear that this is an element of voldemort's recruitment process that the order are spectacularly naive about - the reaction to harry's belief in half-blood prince that draco malfoy has been marked as a death eater is a case in point. slughorn's complete unwillingness to do anything about the death eaters looking for fresh meat is a key part of this - but dumbledore's failure to intervene is also significant.]

i decided, then, to have lucius tell voldemort - whose operation would need potions for all sorts of reasons [poisons, healing potions for terrorists who can't just rock up at st mungo's, illicit brews for the black market] - that he knows a potions prodigy who, as he's uncovered through his network of contacts at hogwarts, is sympathetic to the dark lord's cause. voldemort then begins a long, multi-stage vetting process to test if this is true - snape is instructed to make a potion of dubious legality and deliver it to one of voldemort's agents, who reveals the criminal use it will be put to. when snape doesn't contact the aurors, the process repeats, with him gradually moving up a chain of command - from a low-level petty criminal [voldemort's version of mundungus fletcher] up to the dark lord's spymaster general, augustus rookwood. having passed the test with rookwood, he is then permitted to meet voldemort.

my view is that snape spends the final two years of his schooling being subjected to a voldemort-sanctioned charm offensive, the most important part of which is the dark lord promising him a salaried job as a potioneer once he leaves hogwarts.

i say this a lot, but it's clear in canon that snape was particularly susceptible to voldemort's propaganda because he believed [not incorrectly!] that the dark lord would offer him opportunities which his blood status and class background would ordinarily deny him - and i think we can assume that the wizarding version of academic science [which - as i've said here, in a longer meta on snape's training, seems to retain its early-modern structure, and therefore rely on personal wealth rather than institutional settings] is one of the things he believed he had no chance of pursuing.

and so, when snape graduates in 1978, i think he becomes a death eater full time - working for voldemort on a stipend paid by the malfoys.

i don't think that he's given the dark mark until he's been in voldemort's service for several months. but i don't think he's kept from it for too long either.

[not least because snape's entire relationship with the mark is hubristic - he's so ashamed of it in the second war because he was so proud of it in the first - which means that he has to be given it before voldemort settles on harry as the child referred to in the prophecy in the latter half of 1980.]

my view is that voldemort doesn't have a set timeline for granting the mark, but instead offers it to his followers whenever he thinks it will be most useful [to him] for him to do so.

draco malfoy, for example, is clearly marked the second voldemort decides to use him to kill dumbledore - and voldemort does this as a way of emphasising the utter disregard in which he holds lucius malfoy following the prophecy debacle, through taking ownership of [and quite literally branding] his son. i think regulus is given the mark similarly quickly after joining the death eaters - not because voldemort has any particular interest in him but because, as i've said in this meta on him, regulus is evidently accepted into voldemort's inner circle because he's related to other prominent death eaters, and so giving him the mark is a way for voldemort to keep these death eaters [bellatrix in particular] happy.

on the other hand, i am certain that peter pettigrew doesn't receive his dark mark until 1994, after he's restored voldemort to the semi-body which allows him to be moved, brought him to england, and helped him contact barty crouch jr. and put the plan to kidnap harry in motion - and i also think that voldemort dangled the promise of the mark [without ever seriously intending to grant it] over him in 1980-81, as a way of keeping him loyal, deferential, and eager to please. he's implied to be doing something similar with fenrir greyback in deathly hallows.

voldemort, master manipulator that he is, will have been very well aware that snape's fundamental pathology is a desire for respect. the teen snape wants to be recognised for his brilliance - and, indeed, his superiority - by those who currently consider him beneath them. he wants james and sirius to cower before him because they recognise that he's fundamentally better than them - despite their wealth and their social position - and he wants lily to choose him over james because she recognises this too.

and so i think snape would regard a quick dark mark as a participation trophy - something someone like regulus gets because they're a toff, but not something which indicates that voldemort holds the bearer in high esteem. but he's also not going to be prepared to wait for years with the mark dangling over his head like a carrot, because he'd regard that as voldemort being perfectly willing to give the posh the mark just for being rich and annoying, but not being willing to recognise that he's the superior recruit.

what he'd want - and what, i presume, he gets - is to be rewarded with the mark for doing something specific for voldemort which he thought displayed his brilliance perfectly, and which voldemort was happy to indulge him in thinking.

and i have two suggestions for what that could be:

a. snape assists voldemort in the creation of the potion which guards the locket-horcrux [not, of course, knowing exactly what it would be used for], which adds another layer to his involvement in dumbledore's death [and - which is relevant in scylla and charybdis at least - also involves him in regulus']. b. voldemort gives him the mark for reporting the prophecy.

[literallys-illiteracy]

The floor of technological sciences:

ahhhh i realised that the other one had some things that i wanted to change so i thought that i might as well upload it all in one post.

this one is longer than Malkuth's, shorter than Tiphereth's (i dont think that any are going to get to that length)

The harms of Technology, Capitalism and selling your soul to the devil:

i dont know if this title is better than the one i had before but i have a headache and cant be bothered titling it any better than this

Forsaken murderer was at one point in the past, a murderer on death row; rather than execution he served as a test subject so that scientists may learn how to cure a disease, though injections and chemicals his violent tendencies, along with humanity, were removed. 

Following these experiments he was no longer considered dangerous, as he had seemingly no intention to attack, meaning he was unrestrained, after this, the murder began having delusions, specifically of his head turning into metal (hence the EGO line for meursault) which caused him to begin bashing his head into solid objects - in the time following this, an incident occurred involving the murder of one of the researchers, leading to the murderer to be dissected.

Though the helper was designed to assist humanity, to recognise and assist human behaviour, it is never able to do so, its instruments being replaced with sharp blades rather than cleaning tools; The helper does not act from a will to help however, it simply follows its programming, there is no reason for it to question these instructions, rather it need just act them out as it was ordered.

Singing machine doesn't really have a backstory like others, it's simply the machine itself, and the obsession that it induces over its music; the noises produced are so addicting that those who seek it will sacrifice other employees into the grinder for it to continue; or, if we dissect it as a metaphor, the machine rewards those who willingly sacrifice others in order to succeed (yup its capitalism)

“They're bound to the company the moment they enter. Even if they do resign, they are doomed to stay here forever."

The Funeral of Dead Butterflies tells the story of a pious man who entered the company carrying a coffin to mourn those who could not leave, who soon became trapped inside the company walls himself, becoming a husk with burning memories of an empty faith.

The Funeral of dead butterflies can be separated into 3 thematic faucets, although all connecting back to the abnormality and floor as a whole.

The first is shown primarily in its, and the city’s, story as a whole: The concept of a corporatocracy.

As you enter the company, you sign the contract, you may never leave, even if one retires, they are bound to stay with the company forever.

The second is the funeral, formerly the religious man, coming to mourn those who’s souls are bound to these company walls, to act as a saviour; The Funeral too is trapped inside the company, slowly losing their sense of self, endlessly walking the halls without meaning.

The third is the Kaleidoscope of butterflies, the souls of those who were mourned in the company, trapped inside the confines of this coffin. 

The thematic of the butterflies is best demonstrated through a quote from the Abnormality’s story: 

“Butterflies are supposed to pollinate flowers, but not a single proper flower blooms in this place. There is no choice but to wait. After all, there must be an end to every world” 

In this, the Funeral of dead butterflies embodies the concept of death. Not only does it represent death in the sense of mortality, the Funeral relates to the concept of death and change, the embodiment of endings and new beginnings.

The butterflies being cocooned inside the coffin, the employees being trapped within the company; Through the ending of the company, the souls will be free to fly forth, to live as a human does, rather than a slave to those better off.

Der Freischütz, German for “The Freeshooter” is based off of figure in german folklore of the same name, who sold their soul to the devil for 7 bullets, the first 6 able to hit any target the marksman desired, but the last of which would only follow the will of the devil himself; a story of selling your soul 

In their backstory within Lobotomy Corporation, Freischütz, before taking this deal, murdered all their beloved, so that the destined bullet would have no target, yet in the end it pierced his heart. 

The Freischütz then wondered across different worlds, acting purely off of base impulse, having lost their soul long ago; The Freischütz did not only lose their soul when the devil pierced their heart, but when they gave up their loved ones in an attempt to trick the devil, but the devil seeks only suffering, which the Freischütz has long caused.

Floor Realisation links:

…I am Angela, your AI secretary whose role is to assist you in adjusting to your new workplace.

Linking Angela to our abnormalities of this floor, a new link begins to reveal itself, all linking back to Angela’s imprisonment, her lack of discretion throughout Lobotomy Corporation:

In her past, Angela was a puppet to the script, being directed, given orders she could not understand nor refuse; Her life written in stone, orchestrated by Ayin.

Though she was designed to assist the facilities, act as a helper, an assistant, she soon realised that she could not act on emotions.

Ayin’s script allowed no room for humanity, each step must be enacted as it was written, each order to be followed exactly and without question.

Though one may argue Angela to be cruel throughout Lobotomy Corporation, these sufferings were not made under her discretion, rather, this pain was merely an outcome of her script, the one she could never disobey.

After all:

A machine had no use for values. There was no point discerning between good and bad when the principles were already set in stone.

Though witnessing, causing and abiding by these sufferings, Angela was not in a place to question this, for she was in the same suffering as all others trapped within the company.

There was a time when I was sick of seeing any more death.

Despite Angela’s stoic nature throughout Lobotomy Corporation, Anglea was not willing in these sacrifices made in the plan, seeing countless, horrible gruesome deaths, yet shedding a tear would dampen the wings, and the play would reset; In this mourning, Angela embodies the funeral, yet should others not also mourn for her? Can the sufferings, the sacrifices made by others compare to how she has suffered? 

Angela was too mourned in the coffin, being trapped within the company, yet she was never allowed the rest that this confinement provided, she need endlessly fly towards the end, Angela is both the mourner and the mourned in this story, she is the butterfly inside the butterfly’s coffin inside the butterfly’s coffin (inside a bag of milk).

“Butterflies are supposed to pollinate flowers, but not a single proper flower blooms in this place. There is no choice but to wait. After all, there must be an end to every world”

And, just as the butterflies are meant to pollinate, those with a soul are meant to live freely, not confined inside the corporation, not dictated by a script, but with discretion and on their own accord; Just as the Funeral says, there is no life worth living within this place, so Angela must bring an end to her confinement, break free from her chains, and pollinate flowers i guess? 

A morbid script written for the purpose of treatment, and a machine slowly becoming numb in the act, losing her sense of guilt…

Along the course of her confinement, Angela’s sense of self withered away; Akin to the Forsaken murderer she was, for lack of a better word, forsaken, by the script, by her creator.

Though Angela suffered in their stead she was never rewarded, never applauded on the stage alongside the others; Chained to her role, never given a chance to live, never given a reason, her humanity began to erode, her guilt for these actions, her grief at witnessing these deaths faded, and in their place came a burning resentment, a hate towards those who put her here, who confined her, who decided that she would suffer before others, and that she would never be thanked for her role.

Just like the Murderer, Angela was trapped, an unceasing loop of ending, beginning, ends. Begins. Ends. Begins. Until… it ended, in a final rest for the murderer, and in the first life for Angela.

“Am I not allowed to help that person…? But they seem to be in so much pain…” …The sound of weakness.

reflecting the past of Lobotomy Corp alongside mirroring our current Angela, the singing machine represents her past, yet also her lack of reason. While she seeks freedom, she is a prisoner to the library, lacking any discretion, and suffering being the only path:

Angela was long a bystander to the machinations of Lobotomy Corporation, being powerless to help those who suffered for the greater cause, fed to corporation for Ayin’s plan, yet she also may manifest as the sacrifice herself; 

Angela was cast aside by Ayin, abandoned to be the only one in the machine, left aside even at the end, never hearing the melody that she suffered so long for; For this, in order to spite Ayin's plan, she now takes the role of the maddened employee.

We all take the sacrifice of others for granted, so that we can have immediate satisfaction.

Angela’s single minded nature mimics that of those employees who crave the song from the machine, entirely dedicated to pursuing this promised song, not caring for any consequences, never stopping to see what she has caused.

In essence, Angela’s quest for the one true book, makes her a slave to the library, being unable to live without it, no more free than completing Ayin’s plan, her single goal, her only motivation to continue living.

I came to a realisation; perhaps the last bullet was meant to puncture no one else but me.

Angela’s single minded desires, her loss of grief, and her sacrifice, both of others and herself, culminate in her taking on the EGO of Der Freischütz;

No matter how many lives would be lost for her ambitions, no matter how many innocents were in the line of her target, she would not hesitate to pull the trigger, to act out the script despite their suffering and to seek the one true book through the pain of others.

This sacrificing of innocents, this selfish act, is mirrored in the Freischütz bargain, their acceptance of this devil’s deal, their sacrifice of all they called beloved, and finally, of their soul.

Though Angela, as a machine, may not have been born with a soul, she is revealed to have one in the finale of lob corp, manifested through her desires to live, through the fragmented remains of her human nature, through her heart.

It is in this where the story of the Freischütz differs, whereas the bullet may have pierced Angela’s heart long ago, her soul was not claimed, she may have lost her humanity as she lived through her torment, yet she was not without emotions, she felt every second of pain, every moment of grief, of agony within these chains, the bullet never removing what she had not originally.

The finale of the Freischütz leaves them alone, without even the devil to whom they lost their soul, alone in the depths of this hell, much the same as Ayin planned for Angela in the end. 

The day I got my hands on this bullet, I sank down upon the ground. Was it despair that the Devil wished for?

In terms of thematics, Angela may resonate much closer to the Schütze, rather that the Freischütz, through the longing, the hope, that one day she may too become the cold machine, uncaring as the Freischütz: Angela, like the Schütze, may have hoped freedom through the loss of their soul, through the freedom brought about by nihilism (note to self, write essay about memento mori by William Woodium).

Not a sliver of impurity is allowed for the mind of those who mourn, it must remain reverent and solemn.

The Rationality to Maintain Discretion:

Gabriel: We thought relying on emotion wouldn’t help a thing. However, it became clear that to accept sadness was just as important. The false rationality we held and clung to only made our hearts rot. It is hard to accept at first. You’ll feel like you’d crumble in. But it’ll get better, I’m sure of it. - Yesod

Following Elijah's Death in the events before Lobotomy Corporation, Gabriel, now Yesod, suppressed himself, leaving only his rationality in stead of his emotions.

Gabriel began to be obsessed with safety, compulsively covering every part of his skin except for his head, ensuring that all rules must be followed perfectly, hoping that these rational precautions will be enough to prevent further death.

This obsession lead to psychosis, Gabriel believing that he was rotting from the inside, compulsively scratching at his skin until forced to take a medical checkup preceding his death.

Gabriel's death was caused though his obsessive rationality, believing that he should bury emotions, even those of mourning for Elijah, so that his decisions would not be clouded.

In holding to this false rationality, that he must suppress all his emotions, Gabriel, Yesod, mirrors his floor's abnormalities, foremost being the Der Freischutz.

"The despaired heart couldn’t go out in a passionate flame. It would only burn with a cold fire."

"Now I see; I have been wallowing in despair, for such a long time."

Akin to Angela, Yesod's relation is in the loss of ones soul, or wishing that they had; Gabriel attempted to bury his emotions, sacrifice his soul in the same manner the Freischutz did, to view all this death and suffering without a clouded mind.

The root cause of Gabriel's psychosis was wishing to not see suffering, to not witness the deaths of any others for the research, mirroring the position of Angela's beginning, and the story of the Funeral of dead butterflies, not wishing to see others suffer, yet losing ones self rather than mourning those who are lost to them.

Angela:

Similar to the way that Gabriel, or Yesod, hoped that rationality would be able to prevent death, Angela too wished to not see the death and horrors of Lobotomy Corporation, the reason that her eyes are closed in a majority of the game’s sprites.

Both Angela and Yesod were viewed as cold uncaring machines due to this trait within the events of the game, hoping that a cold emotionless approach would minimise suffering, thinking that clinging to their false rationality would bring the better future they wished for.

In the transition from Lobotomy Corporation to Library of Ruina, Angela begins to show more and more emotions, experiencing situations for the first time, acting without the puppeteer’s strings which controlled her for so long, she no longer needs to maintain her robotic facade.

Despite this, in the earliest sections of the game, Angela is unable to show the full depth of her emotions, attempting to seal the memories of her past behind, to not be driven by her irrational emotions, the same desire held by Gabriel before the events of the first game.

This suppression of emotions in pursuit of rationality is the same pitfall which held both Yesod and Ayin before her.

What Angela lacks is that of emotions, the drive behind her actions is which she views as rational, yet is driven by a suppressed hatred and sorrow, a buried past rearing its head to drive her forward. 

While Gabriel’s actions were driven from grief, the loss of Elijah, he maintained the view that he was driven by rationality.

Just like Gabriel in the past, Angela must uncloud her vision in order to pursue her dream of becoming a human

Thanks for reading, find the others of this series below:

Angela Floors:

<Malkuth>

Roland Floors:

<Tiphereth>

[thicctails]

i should be asleep, quick post angsty TF2 AU art

silly thing that has been marinating in my mind since my tf2 hyperfixation rose from the dead and gripped me by my throat. thank u emesis blue and lil pootis :3

basically, the idea is that this au takes place in a not so distant future, where the two merc teams have been merged into just being Team Fortress under the employment of Saxton Hale, (who just wants to see them beat the crap out of whatever weird, otherwordly beings always tend to pop up around them) and their new Administrator, Miss Pauline, (who is far nicer to work with and gets them, like, actual mercenary and espionage work.) following the death of the Mann brothers and the old Administrator.

(lore continued below + scout's injuries)

The two teams actually get on really well, (really really well if you're Blu Soldier and Red Demo, or Red Spy and Blu Engineer ;) ) and they end up dropping their defenses a little, because surely no one would be stupid enough to target an eighteen strong pack of near feral, borderline insane mercs, as well as their two incredibly fierce, very scary lady associates, Zhanna and Pauline, right?

Well, apparently not, because an old enemy of the Red Spy figures out that the man's son is working with him, and he has a personal grudge against both of them due to something that happened when Jeremey (Red Scout) was a baby. He rounds up a few ex-Conagher Industries employees who have just enough insider knowledge to help him steal and rebuild a functioning respawn machine. Once it's complete, he picks three Mercs to kidnap in order to test the machine, as well as figure out what exactly it is that allows the machine to work on them.

First, lets talk about the Red Scout, Jeremey. Spy's old enemy used to have a brother, until the fool accepted a job that involved him sneaking into a small home in Boston and taking out the son of one of the best spies currently active. Obviously, Spy took care of the issue, though this was the reason he actually ended up leaving. Revenge is only half the reason Scout gets picked, though, with the other being that he's incredibly immune to the effects of radiation on the human body, and actual seems to thrive off it, reaching speeds that really shouldn't be possible. His kidnappers really end up pushing this resistance, and end up leaving him with an incredibly nasty burn that was left too long for respawn to fix.

Next up is the Red Medic, Ludwig. Medic ends up getting nabbed purely because they need someone with the medical knowledge and technology to keep Scout and Soldier alive while they get taken apart in an attempt to figure out exactly how respawn works. He's only allowed to heal them if their kidnappers deem it necessary, or if he gives them the information they try and beat out of him about how he and Engineer managed to have the technology they do. Weeks spent either in isolation or listening to/seeing the people he's grown close to get tortured or killed for other's amusement makes it so that, when they finally get free, he's gone almost feral, and isn't afraid to take a chunk out of anyone who gets too close to him, Scout, or Soldier, be they friend or foe.

Last, but certainly not least, is Blu Soldier, John. Now, unlike Scout and Medic, Soldier wasn't actually supposed to be kidnapped. It was actually supposed to be one of the Engineers, but his kidnapper only received the instructions to grab the "loud, helmet-wearing American with the metal weapon" so. y'know. 😬

Trying again isn't really an option, though, so poor Solly gets to be a science experiment and a human punching bag/ gun practice target. Lucky him! He is also who they test the limits of respawn on, which results in him loosing his sight by the time help arrives.

also mini headcannon that Red Scout has his dad's black hair, he just dyes it. By the time he gets out, he really looks just like a younger Spy.

id like to do a fic for this au one day. and also maybe pick a name for it

[violant-apologia]

Checkup

or; an Introduction to Marian Agnes Cook

featuring @waterlogged-detective's wonderful darcy doe!

words: ~1k

give it a read on AO3 or below the cut!

The surgery is out of the way. Discreet, one might call it, if the words “DOE CLINIC for those with ECLECTIC TASTES, INTERESTING DEFORMITIES or TOO MANY LIMBS” weren’t emblazoned on the door in dramatic boldface. She doesn’t bother the bartender as she makes towards the door to his erstwhile cellar. He, in turn, keeps his eyes down and continues cleaning glasses. A simple tomb-colonist  is surely one of the least odd visitors to a clinic such as this. Or she would appear the least odd, at least.

She takes the handle in her bandaged hand (her left, though she’s practised enough that she feels almost ambidextrous) and pushes it open, revealing a damp stone stairwell. Snippets of conversation echo from below: half in posh English, half in burbles. When Marian reaches the bottom of the stairs, a Tentacular Surgeoness is waiting for her.

“Thotharoorithee!” she welcomes. Marian nods, distracted by the clinics interior.

An operating table takes centre stage: rich wood accented with flecks of amber and blood. Behind it there are cabinets upon cabinets, with labels ranging from the expected (“TOURNIQUETS”) to the worrying (“AMBER LEECHES”) to the worryingly vague (“EMERGENCY TOOLS”). On top of the cabinets are myriad jars, contents variously still, bobbing, beating and blinking. Marian’s always had a strong stomach, but curiosity is not nearly enough for her to examine the jars in detail. Instead, she turns her attention to the other figure in the room — a fellow bandaged individual in an apron and gloves. He washes a bonesaw over a sink.

“Dr Doe,” Marian says.

“Just a moment,” the surgeon replies. “My previous patient had the most fascinating blood. While I’m sure it would further the plight of Science to test its reaction with your own humours, I have an inkling that you’d prefer my implements clean.”

Marian doesn’t respond, simply waiting with tapping feet and ignoring the eyeballs which scrutinise her from their prisons of glass and cork. At last, the doctor turns to her.

“Ah, a fellow tomb-dweller!” he says. “What do you need, my darling? A cure for rotting? A spare set of ears? Or perhaps,” he mutters, scrutinising Mariam’s arm, “it has something to do with this—”

“Don’t,” Mariam says, snatching her arm away from Doe. He shrugs.

“I was only asking,” he says, nonchalantly. “It doesn’t take the Honey-Addled Detective to notice the lumps beneath those bandages.”

Marian maintains a straight face and unbunched fists.

“But where are my manners?” the doctor says with mock concern. “I’m speculating about your horrifying deformities when I’ve yet to even introduce myself. Doctor Darcy Doe, at your service.”

“Rithoree!” comes a burble from behind Marian.

“And you’ve met my assistant already,” Darcy adds.

“Marian Cook,” Marian replies. “You’ll pardon me for not offering you my hand.”

“I was right, was I?” Darcy cackles. “Well, let me have a look at it.”

“Prepare yourself,” Marian warns, beginning to unwrap the bandages on her arm.

“Whatever it is, my dear, I’m sure I’ve seen something an order of magnitude more gruesome.”

The final layer comes off, revealing a dark green mass beneath. A tangle of stems, thorns and leaves that rustle as she unwraps. They keep the form of an arm and hand, but the cut stems are clearly visible: pruning, to keep the bramble in line.

“Ah,” Darcy nods, “You’re a veteran. I never did get involved in that ghastly campaign myself – the whole ‘fighting for one’s religion’ thing is all rather gauche, wouldn’t you agree?”

Marian suppresses a sigh and stops unwrapping.

“I don’t see the issue, though,” says Darcy. “I hear these growths have a tendency to return when clipped. And you seem to be keeping the whole thing quite adequately under wraps. Ha-ha.”

There’s a pause before Marian speaks.

“My condition isn’t typical, even for a vet,” she says. “Their stems are painful, but they’re more like brands. They’re static. Mine…”

“Yours…?” Darcy prompts.

“The Law-Furnace that got my patrol left the others as topiaries. I thought I’d escaped with only my arm as casualty, but soon learned otherwise.” She peels back bandages on her hip, revealing leaves and the beginning of a bud. “When I bleed, I scab over in bark. When it falls away, there’s plant-flesh beneath.”

Darcy ponders for a moment, stroking his chin for effect. “I may have a solution for you. It might seem outlandish at first, but I bid you hear me out. Have you considered… not getting injured?”

“That’s what I’ve been doing for forty years!” Marian retorts, “and I am bloody sick of it. I joined the army to see the Neath, for chrissakes. I can’t spend the rest of my life cooped up in some old mausoleum, never risking a scratch or bruise. I will get injured, thank-you-kindly, I’d just like to heal instead of turning into a damned rosebush!”

Marian’s outburst over, she calms herself. The thorns on her arms turn back inward, having jutted themselves out when her anger flared. Darcy, who was waiting patiently for her to finish, speaks again.

“There’s no need for theatrics. I’ll cut to the chase: I’m not able to help you. But I know some people who might be.” He turns and rummages through a draw for a moment, before producing three business cards. “They’re rather far afield, but given your stated aim to explore, that shouldn’t trouble you overmuch.”

Marian takes the cards. Some list places she’s never heard of; some are in languages she does not understand.

“…Thanks,” she says, moving to leave the clinic.

“And I’ll offer you an echo for some cuttings.”

Marian rolls her eyes.

“Make it two.”