#whatever the hell THAT is supposed to mean

[verboselocket38]

To be fair the only reason cheating is ok in recent episode is because it's supposed to parallel Stella & Stolas situation so he's feeling some type of way about it if they didn't have that going on I'm sure they'll be fine with killing them and also aren't they supposed to be a little emotionally grown right now according to Viv or something? 😗 maybe idk and super unpopular opinion don't come at me but cheating isn't a big deal like I heard one guy say once "Who hasn't cheated at least once" It doesn't take away hurt but it's very common and cheating isn't the worst thing someone can do imo genuinely not trying to start a fire but people act like cheating is a crime like how they treated that Berry dude or whatever with Sabrina Carpenter or the Try Guys dude (I don't know his name)

.....Dude what the hell?

Ok first off, just because the cheating is a parallel to Stella and Stolas doesnt mean that The cheating the husband did WAS OK!!!!

Second, if ANYONE says "cheating isnt a big deal 🙄" then they should not be in a relationship EVER. Because your breaking the trust of your partner and not only hurting your partner's feelings, but suprise suprise, YOUR HURTING THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU!!

JUST BECAUSE CHEATING ISNT "the worse thing a person can do" or "is common" DOES NOT MEAN ITS RIGHT! ITS STILL A BAD THING AND SHOULD BE TREATED LIKE A BAD THING.

Do you know the people who haven't cheated once or more when in a relationship? ALOT OF PEOPLE! The ones who do cheat are toxic who dont consider their partner's feelings or the people around them.

IF ANYONE CHEATS WITH YOU, DONT STAY WITH THEM! THEY JUST PROVEN THAT THEY DONT CARE ABOUT YOU FEELINGS WHILE SEEING SOMEONE BEHIND YOUR BACK! ANYONE WHO GETS CHEATED ON HAS THE RIGHT TO BE FURIOUS, SAD, EMBARESSED, HEARTBROKEN, OR ANY OTHER EMOTIONS THEY COULD FEEL WHEN THE PERSON THEY THOUGHT LOVED THEM DECIDED TO FIND SOMEONE ELSE IN THEIR PLACE!

Given how you worded this, you probably havent been cheated on in your life, and genually its a huge red flag to believe cheating is "No big deal."

If you still dont believe me, let me put it like this for the Stolas stans:

If Stolas cheated on Blitzø with Vassago or some other man whatever tf his name is, you'd probably be singing a different tune.

To end this, I just want to say don't come to my blog defending CHEATING and acting like its no big deal. Go somewhere else.

[ryuzakemo128]

MDNI 18+ Omegaverse Part 3

cw: isolation, cold weather, injuries, lovely things, overprotective price. mature language. angst.

Omegaverse Parts: Part One + Part Two + Part Three

wc: 1311

Price noticed you were no longer on the base, all that working trying to find you all gone to waste because of General Shepard. His frustration grew each day you were gone. Each day you weren’t around the four. Did it matter that it was only a week? Fuck no.

What did the General hope would happen? Delay the inevitable? What kind of foolish man did they take Price for? When he found out you were sent down from a helicopter in the dead of night to Siberia? His blood began to boil. His temper began to rise higher levels.

The man was a monster, and you were his latest victim. The medical results came in. Not that you would ever get the chance to see them. To know what you are. Why people were so keen on taking you or killing you, or both. Not just a weapon, either.

“You can’t do that. You have no right to enforce that. It’s against protocol to send out an unknown operative.” Price argued. He tried making him see the error of his actions. He had to. Not many others were willing to stand up for you. He had to save you.

“Protocol can go to hell, Price. She’s special. The intel says so. We need her. And I will do whatever it takes to ensure she’s safe and on our side. Even if it means throwing her to the wolves and seeing if she comes back to us. That’s an order, Captain!” Shepard’s voice was cold, final. The conversation was over.

The medical evaluation you received years before your imposed, forced exile had always eluded you. Your results never even reached your own hands. They left you there in the middle of the forest with your Barrett M82, SIG Sauer P226, colt python, and a Bowie knife made from Damascus steel. 

Siberia wasn’t meant to be kind nor loving to you. It was supposed to have killed you long ago. They assumed you would be dead by now. Hoped to be rid of you by now. A detriment to what they wanted. Too much of an improbable, uncontrollable unknown. A freak.

The log cabin you made into your home was relatively small, easy to miss, and hard to find within the gusts often sweeping across the snowy landscape. The trees keeping the location of the log cabin a hushed secret. A stone fireplace and varying large cast iron pots and pans. 

Stolen from military vehicles you spotted along the road to a base in the area. Indirectly helping task force 141 from afar. Nikolai said, “Looks like some of their supplies were taken, no signs of a struggle, no signs of combat, and whoever it is. Knew exactly what to take.”

Captain Price remarked incredulously as he frowned deeply, “What do you mean by taken? Nikolai, they’re either stolen or they’re lost. It can’t be any more or any less simple than that. I don’t think ghosts exist to steal supplies from the back of enemy trucks. We would know otherwise.”

“Oh, but Captain, the world is a mysterious place, full of secrets and unexplained occurrences. Maybe, just maybe, there is something, or someone, out there we haven’t accounted for.” Nikolai cooed a little too cryptically for his own good. Possibly even too mysteriously for Soap’s liking. Like he knew more.

The snap of the bear trap's claws clamping onto your leg set out by Nikolai, “See? The little mouse came out to play.” He set out a nice steak within enough reach to tempt you. Purposefully trying to make you do something stupid enough to try stealing it from him.

Price managed to take a closer look at you, Nikolai’s mouse, who bit Price for trying to touch you without consent. Feeling your wolf like teeth into his hand. Digging into his flesh, not hard enough to break bones. But hard enough to leave behind a deep enough bruise.

Your jaw locked in, making it impossible for him to remove his hand. With every movement of his met with a low growl ripping through your throat. Refusing to let go. Price didn’t know what to think. But Nikolai seemed to have his thumbs up, soap and are distressed. Where’s Ghost?

Who knew ghost would be the one to find your log cabin first? There he was. Standing outside your log cabin, staring at the crate you were parachuted down from the military helicopter. Smelling your intense sweet smell of your previous heat. The scent still remaining on the fur blankets.

The place you still go into when your heat comes around again. Tally marks along the walls marking how many times your ‘heat’ came around. The thick, soft fur blankets soaking in the hot water in the giant metal tub in the shed. Which also served as your bath tub. 

Learning your scent could attract far more dangerous predators than you. You bathed once a day when you weren’t in heat. Twice a day during the period of your heat. Once in the morning, and once in the evening. As you found it to be rather productive for your benefit.

Price sniffed around the crate you used to live in before shifting to your cabin permanently. The scent of yours is stronger than any of theirs. Their combined scent could match it. But singularly? No. They’d be drowned inside your scent with enough ease. Like a Megalodon swallowing someone whole.

“I can’t believe we missed this. This is a fucking goldmine.” He whispered to himself. “Nikolai! Soap! We’re not the only ones who know she’s here. She’s been living here, right under our nose!” He waved his comrades over, getting their attention and to come closer to what he found. 

Their footsteps grew louder as they approached. Soap’s eyes widened as he saw the state of your living conditions. The way you’ve adapted. The way you’ve survived. It’s a miracle, really. “How long have you been out here?” He asked, his voice filled with a mix of amazement and horror.

You were patching your leg up and bathing in hot water, hoping to sterilise and clean the wound. It was the sight of your naked body that made them rather peculiar. You were a miracle wrapped inside the cold, tendency to bite people’s hands if they touched you without consent.

Your clothes discarded into the corner of your cabin. Soaking in cold water to get the blood from your clothes. The atmosphere of your log cabin, warmer than what you felt on the inside. After the stitches, your leg is wrapped in clean cloth. You were about to get dressed.

The door slammed open like the gusts of wind came through like a shout rather than a soft, sultry whisper. The four of them must have found you quicker than you suspected. Another 12 months living, surviving, on your own. 

The first to enter your cabin was someone you didn’t expect to see again. Considering the two of you yelled at each other like you wanted to rip each other’s throat out. “What the fuck do you want?” You spat, your teeth still clenched from the pain of your wound.

“To bring you back. You’re in no state to be alone, you’re in no state to be left to pick up leftovers to live off again. I don’t want to hear your protests because frankly, I don’t care. You’re coming with us.” Price's voice was firm, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes as he stepped into the cabin, the warmth of the fireplace hitting him like a welcoming embrace.

You stared at him. Shocked. In total state of shock. Price heard the meek, “I can go back now?” Soap helped you get dressed and patched up. Ghost packed up your things, because he knew it was valuable

[thesummerstorms]

Tbh, Arsinoë de Riva is probably broke as hell at the start of the game. Technically, she's on a contract for Varric, but it took six months for Viago of all people to even call it such. Payment for said contract on Varric's end is mostly "not letting Arsinoë die at the hands of one of the other Talons".

She's been away from Antiva (and all her savings and contacts and networks along with whatever House de Riva might be expected to provide for its Crows) for a solid year. She fled in the middle of the night with what she could carry on her person, so it's not like she had time to dip into her emergency caches around Treviso.

In that time, she's been on the road with Varric and, sure, maybe she could take some "off the books" contracts on the side to make ends meet, but I feel like she was probably incredibly paranoid about doing that when

a) technically Varric holds her contract and it is very much against Crow rules to "double book" as it were

b) Varric and Harding seem a bit "upright" and she has no idea how they would react to her taking secondary jobs

and

c) she has had it beaten into her that you do not take contracts outside the House, in part due to loyalty, at least partially because the House will take its cut, but mostly because that means she doesn't have Viago or anyone else to vet the Contract for her.

She was probably selling off trinkets in the beginning, enchanted rings and such from other jobs, and looting off the Venatori, which she's continued doing since.

But her contract with Varric doesn't have a timeline or a price, so eventually she might have had to break and take outside work had Varric not figured out what she was doing and informed her that the Merchant's Guild and royalties from his novels were paying their way through this job, and yes, he did intend to pay for her meals and lodging even if he couldn't actually afford an Antivan Crow.

With Varric unable to continue paying her way after the prologue, the Lighthouse seems like a blessing. Food is still an expense, but lodging that is both secure and free is a blessing. She still wears that god-awful worn out armor for way too long with an eye to the expense book.

Viago is displeased when she wears it home to Treviso for the first time, but it isn't like she knew they would be meeting the First Talon and she was under the impression she shouldn't knew better than to raid House de Riva's stores and show up in the Colors without her Talon's explicit forgiveness and permission. And then the turn around to the Ossuary is so quick that she's still wearing it when she rescues Lucanis.

Viago does eventually tell Arsinoë to "start dressing properly before she shames House de Riva" (aka to dip into the House Stores to replace her failing equipment and to start wearing the Colors again) a little upset somewhere very deep down that she thought she couldn't, mainly because she is who she is to him, not just a random Crow.

But Lucanis still brings it up casually one day over laundry day in the Lighthouse, asking if she was supposed to be in some sort of disguise or if Viago has completely lost his mind, accepting a contract that didn't pay enough for Arsinoë to maintain her own gear.

Only for her to laughingly reply "I haven't been paid in at least a year, actually. Actually, technically, if anything I still owe the House and Varric, so... Well, hopefully the next contract is a good one."

[serendipitydang]

My favourite scene in my autistic soap and ghost WIP so far

Soap’s eyes wandered around the kitchen as he carefully inspected the groceries Ghost had brought home. At first glance, the sheer quantity of some of the items was enough to make him blink in disbelief. There were apples. So many apples. It was like Ghost had raided the entire produce section. Soap had no idea what someone needed with that many apples. Did Ghost have a secret apple addiction? Was he planning on making cider? Maybe he was going to bake an entire orchard’s worth of pies. Soap had no clue, but whatever the reason, the sight of the apples was almost comical.

He moved past the fruit and his eyes landed on the pasta. The pasta. There was a mountain of it. Every kind of shape you could imagine—spaghetti, fusilli, penne. Soap could’ve sworn Ghost was trying to single-handedly boost Italy’s economy by buying every pasta packet in sight. It was almost impressive in its own way, how much pasta one person could stockpile. Soap couldn't imagine ever needing that much pasta unless Ghost was secretly preparing for the end of the world and intended to live off carbs for eternity.

Then there were the tea bags. Two hundred of them, neatly stacked and taking up half a shelf. Two hundred. Soap stared at them for a moment, eyebrows raising. That was an absurd amount of tea. He leaned closer to the pile, inspecting the labels. Yep. Ghost wasn’t messing around. That was a serious commitment to tea-drinking. Was this how he survived his days? Had he been hoarding tea for years, preparing for a world where tea was a scarce resource?

Soap let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “Bloody hell, mate,” he muttered, still fixated on the massive stockpile of tea. “Two hundred. Are you trying to brew your way through the next decade or something?”

He snorted under his breath, the thought making him smile to himself. I mean, I can’t really judge, can I?

He paused, glancing over at his own habits. His cupboards were, to be fair, not much better. He might not have the tea situation figured out, but Soap had fifty—yes, fifty—packets of mac and cheese stuffed away in his kitchen, all neatly stacked in a corner like a shrine to convenience. He didn’t even remember how they got there, but one day he’d been hungry, saw them on sale, and well—one packet turned into fifty. What was he supposed to do? Let the deal slip through his fingers? Hell no, Soap wasn’t that stupid. But still, fifty packets of mac and cheese? That was more than a reasonable person could ever need.

But then again, Soap mused, running a hand through his hair, Ghost has his own thing going on. His pantry wasn’t filled with instant meals or emergency snacks. Instead, there were actual staples: bread, cheese, spreads. The kind of foods that suggested Ghost was an adult with, at the very least, some semblance of a balanced diet.

Except, then there were the lemons. So many lemons. They were stacked in a precarious little pyramid, sitting there like some sort of citrus army, waiting to invade the kitchen. Soap narrowed his eyes at the pile, leaning in a bit closer. What exactly does one do with that many lemons?

He had his suspicions—Ghost had a reputation for being a bit of a mystery, and maybe he liked to keep a few tricks up his sleeve. But Soap couldn’t help himself; the sight of those lemons was just too ridiculous to ignore. He chuckled under his breath, giving the lemons a side-eye. “Lemons,” he muttered, half to himself. “You planning on making a bloody lemon grove, Ghost?”

The more Soap thought about it, the more it made sense, in a weird, unexplainable way. Ghost didn’t exactly seem like the type to go out for a takeaway meal or rely on ready-to-eat meals. No, Ghost probably preferred simple, wholesome ingredients. And hell, Soap couldn’t fault him for that. It wasn’t like he was about to judge someone for having healthy, nutritious food when his own cupboard was stocked to the brim with artificial cheese powder. At least Ghost wasn’t buying frozen pizzas or stacks of instant ramen. No, he had real food—if you counted lemons and two hundred bags of tea as “real” food.

Soap gave a small shrug, trying not to be too critical. Ghost’s pantry might be... well, a little eccentric, but who was he to talk? He wasn’t exactly the poster child for healthy eating either. Besides, this was Ghost. If there was one thing Soap had learned about the man, it was that his quirks were a part of the whole package. And Soap wasn’t about to start criticizing now—especially when Ghost was letting him snoop around and see just how strange the man’s grocery habits were.

With another glance at the lemons, Soap let out a breath and gave up. Maybe someday he’ll explain all this—but for now, Soap just had to accept it. The guy might live off apples, pasta, tea, and lemons, but it worked for him. And if it worked for Ghost, then Soap wasn’t about to say a word. Not when his own food habits were probably just as ridiculous.

Soap leaned back against the counter, his gaze lingering on the pile of lemons for a moment longer than necessary. He couldn’t help it. The sight of them, all stacked up like little yellow soldiers, was too much. He glanced over at Ghost, who was now rifling through a bag, probably pulling out more of the strange assortment of groceries he’d bought.

Soap cleared his throat, the words bubbling up before he could stop them.

“Oi,” he began, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. “What’s with the lemons, then?”

Ghost paused, turning his head slowly to look at him, the silence hanging between them for a long beat.

Soap’s eyes widened as Ghost stared at him for a long, uncomfortable minute. There was something about the intensity of the gaze that made him feel a little too exposed. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, but Soap didn’t break eye contact. He couldn’t. Ghost was making him wait for something—some kind of answer or reaction—but Soap had no idea what.

Then, without a word, Ghost reached for one of the lemons, grabbed it with a steady hand, and before Soap could even process what was happening, he saw Ghost roll his mask up just enough to expose his mouth. And then, without hesitation, he took a bite out of the lemon.

The whole thing. Skin, pith, juice—it was all in there. Ghost chewed slowly, still holding Soap’s gaze, and Soap swore his brain short-circuited for a second. The sourness had to be overwhelming, yet Ghost looked completely unfazed, like it was nothing. The kind of calm, casual confidence that only Ghost could pull off.

Soap couldn’t help it. His mouth dropped open slightly, eyes flicking between the lemon in Ghost’s hand and his unblinking stare.

“Wait. What. The—” Soap’s voice cracked for a split second as he stared at Ghost, who, to his absolute horror, was chewing the lemon as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

He blinked rapidly, mouth agape. Ghost’s eyes didn’t leave his for even a second, and Soap felt his heart rate pick up as the sourness of the situation seemed to seep into his very bones. “You’re... eating it?” Soap's voice was higher-pitched than usual, an involuntary mix of confusion and utter disbelief.

Ghost’s slow, deliberate chewing didn’t slow down for a second. The only thing he did was lift an eyebrow ever so slightly, still holding Soap’s gaze, as if daring him to say something.

Soap’s brain couldn’t keep up. “That’s... that’s not normal!” He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. "Who the hell eats a lemon like that?!"

Ghost chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed, still unfazed. He simply shrugged and, in his typical deadpan tone, said, “Lemons are useful.”

Soap's hands twitched, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure whether to run away or just melt into the floor. “What the bloody hell is wrong with you?” he muttered to himself, though he knew he was talking to Ghost—probably still waiting for an explanation that was never coming.

And then, to make it worse, Ghost just stared at him, his gaze cool, composed, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. And took another fucking bite. Soap’s chest tightened, and his entire body froze for a moment, his mind completely blank. He watched in horror as Ghost chewed through the sour fruit like it was a snack, unfazed, completely casual about the whole thing.

Soap could feel his pulse in his ears, his hand instinctively reaching out for something to grip, though nothing seemed sturdy enough to hold his sanity together at that moment. His mind was short-circuiting, desperately trying to process what he was witnessing. He had seen some odd things in his time—hell, he’d done some odd things himself—but this? This was beyond any reasonable explanation.

“Fucking Brits,” Soap muttered under his breath, his voice a mixture of exasperation and genuine panic, though his lips still curled into an incredulous grin. It was the only way he could react. If he didn’t laugh, he might lose his mind. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he managed, staring wide-eyed at Ghost, hoping for some sort of answer.

Ghost didn’t flinch. He didn’t even break his gaze. He just kept chewing, slow and deliberate, as if the lemon was the most natural thing in the world.

Soap rubbed a hand over his face, trying to calm himself down, but all he could do was watch as Ghost took another bite. Another bite. Soap wasn’t sure whether to be amazed or absolutely terrified at the sheer audacity of it. His mind kept coming back to one terrifying question: What’s next? Would Ghost dip the lemon in salt? Maybe add a little hot sauce? Or, god forbid, pour himself a drink of straight vinegar?

He felt like he was losing his grip on reality, trapped in some bizarre fever dream where logic had taken a back seat. He opened his mouth to say something, anything to make sense of it, but the words just wouldn’t come out. There was nothing that could explain this insanity. Not even a "You’re a madman." Nothing could do it justice.

So, instead, he just sighed loudly, muttering another baffled “Fucking Brits,” as if that was the answer to the madness unfolding before him.

Ghost shrugged, nonchalantly finishing his bite of lemon, his cool demeanor never wavering. It was as if he couldn’t understand the chaos that was clearly unfolding in Soap’s mind. Maybe that’s why he was so calm about it. Maybe he knew something Soap didn’t, like how to embrace the chaos without getting swallowed by it.

Soap, on the other hand, couldn’t take it anymore. He flopped back onto the couch with an exaggerated sigh, throwing his arm across his face in mock defeat. "You’re fucking impossible," he muttered, turning his head to glance at Ghost one last time.

Without warning, Soap shot him a middle finger, the gesture a mix of frustration and disbelief. Ghost didn’t react. He just kept munching on his lemon like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Soap, utterly drained from trying to make sense of everything, just let his head hit the back of the couch. “I can’t even,” he groaned, sinking deeper into the cushions. Ghost had truly taken "living life on his own terms" to a new level, and Soap had no idea if he should be impressed or horrified.

Ghost didn’t respond, of course. He just kept on with whatever weird ritual he was engaged in, and Soap, knowing there was no reasoning with him, just shut his eyes, hoping for a few moments of peace before his brain had to process whatever bizarre thing Ghost would do next.

[onceuponaroast]

So here's a lukewarm take for you all:

I love the "Doesn't understand implied context and has no critical media literacy because you didn't pay attention in English class" joke as much as the next guy, but uh.... it's not entirely correct

Because I DID pay attention in my English class, and the one thing they did NOT tell us to do... was form our own opinions on the text.

And absolutely it could have just been my teachers! It is in fact highly likely that my teachers specifically were just particularly shit at their jobs, but the main thing I was regularly instructed to do was just. Memorize whatever the teacher told us and move on. In fact, we were encouraged to focus on the absolute bare bones of any given story and spend as little time or mental energy in any given text. We were taught novels the same way we were taught history and science; to memorize the facts and move on.

We were not encouraged to engage with the text. When I offered a different interpretation of a passage I was told it was wrong and to 'not think about it so hard.' My Least Favorite Teacher- who I am biased against for unrelated reasons but nevertheless- once docked me points because I suggested a passage could be interpreted as referencing pregnancy. This was, of course, wrong; because she obviously was referencing menopause. (???)

We had so many standardized tests crammed down our throats that we were pretty much forced to just memorize the basic plot setting and characters- and do absolutely nothing else.

This is not to say tiktok is not ruining our brains- it's not even to say that every half assed massive Corp movie made of crappy ai writing isn't ruining our media consumption- because they both probably are. But when you see kids not understanding things like subtext and unreliable narrators, please don't laugh at them. Please do not assume it is a failure on their part. They can not help what they are not taught.

[crustyfloor]

A new pop-up store dropped for ALIEN STAGE's 2nd anniversary and wow. It's so sick.

It's Interesting what exactly these experiments are focusing on and monitoring.

Instrument practice

I found it interesting earlier that Till was so tame, more so than he usually is when he's going through experiments, but music, and making music is what he loves doing, So he was fully in his element here. This was probably the only thing he was made to do by the aliens that he at least tolerated.

(Additionally, judging by his collar (orange), he was at least calm. maybe he just isn't fazed anymore.)

//Side note, that head contraption looks familiar BUT this most likely isn't related at least i hope

(It puts me at ease, at least..)

Dance practice

This surprised me, but I suppose Mizi needed more skills.

She looks very startled here, and nervous(?) +It looks like she's doing this while singing. And with that face covering I assume this was a test monitoring her dance balance, precision, etc. At first, I did think it was odd, "Why would Shine put her through that" But alas I was reminded that even though Mizi is the flower of the group she was never untouchable, to Shine, this was the equivalent of teaching your dog to sit and stay.

(seeing this it reminded me of those scenes in movies where the people are dancing, and the music gets faster and faster until they fall. I wonder if she was doing through something similar to that)

Singing practice (?)

Similar to Till she also looks quite calm outwardly, if the machine around her neck is an iteration of the collars they have, then this process wasn't something she liked, or given how intense this experiment looks, this was a test of high-pressure to ensure she always stayed calm during performances (?). Then again this could also be a posture practice given all the structure focused on maintaining her position.

(What I believe was another form of this test was shown before so I think so)

(With her hands in a praying stance I wonder if she was praying to herself or singing a religious song (sweet dream?) It's also interesting that the machinery around her looks like a halo, and she looks so...angelic? holy?)

Image making practice

By image making, I think they made Ivan replicate expressions with his face. Whether this process was painful for him or not...I'm not sure. But it looked visibly uncomfortable, maybe that was the point. (His expression, even in this circumstance is so dubious..)

Ivan, among other things, needed to have a spotless appearance to be successful, his image was a priority given his skills were certainly guaranteed.

I assume the aliens eventually took note of his lack of expression, in the real world this can be a detriment to one's career, so the Aliens had to ensure quality was perfect. (To a more...dedicated level)

Superiority test

'Superiority test' Is very vague.

HyunA is very calm here too, likely sedated in that water with all the tablets on her. I guess this was a test to get an idea of a pet human's strengths and weaknesses, endurance, and temperament to compare and contrast them with others, testing who is more viable for Alien stage?

Another interesting, and sad part about this is that HyunWoo was there, watching his sister through her experiments.

(Also, it looks like both of her legs are normal, no alien leg yet.)

Heart rate variability

And finally, the most visceral of them all. The wording 'variability' makes this all the more sickening, the Aliens were testing his heart hours, testing it at different rates, speeds, and states. And he was in agony the entire time. Even the way he's clutching his chest, it gives me chills. This would've been a completely harmless test in a normal setting, as something quite similar to this can be performed efficiently in real life. But he's being tortured in the process.

This is one of the first times we've ever seen Luka's face so truly clear and unprotected, (understandably so.) He's even crying.

[somerandomdudelmao]

Ngl, Viktor vaguely reminds me of Husk from Hazbin hotel. Both grumpy softies :]

On that note, have you heard of the series Helluva Boss :0 ? (It's free to watch on yt)

I don't know your exact tastes in media but the art in the show is incredible in my opinion and the story is cool.

Just wanted to know what my favourite artist though on it if you've ever heard of it. Anygay!

Love your stuff 💙. You keep doing you Cass and i wish you a good day!

I think Victor is more like Tai Lung from Kung Fu Panda. But you have a point.

Yeah, I watched Helluva Boss, but I can't say I liked it much. The animation is beautiful and the art style looks interesting. I can appreciate well-done work, but this show doesn't really make me feel anything. I could have turned on a random youtube video instead and been more interested.

[qcomicsy]

Lately I've only been wishing to grab a comic about my favorite character and just have a genuinely good time reading it.

[ladynicte]

Nico who has been deified after his death. Nico who's sure, after all this time, he's finally managed to let go of his older sister's death, of course, it still hurts, and of course, he will never forget her, but that fiery hatred and overtaking sadness, has finally been put to rest.

Nico knows and understands that his sister chose to move on without him, and that's okay, no it's never gonna be okay but he's made his peace with that too, and now, that he's an inmortal himself he never expects to see Bianca again.

Nico lives easy. He works for his father, he sleeps for a couple decades at a time, sometimes he goes back to Camp, takes care of some kids during their quests here and there, but for the most part, he's a chain-free roaming God.

And then, one day at Camp Nico meets her, a tiny little girl, with how long he has lived, time has become almost impossible for Nico to really track down anymore, but he's sure this girl can't be more than 10.

And something about her eyes, her dark, void-like eyes, and her long black hair, and her proud stance. It really reminds him of somebody else.

The girl is all alone, no little brother or older sister of her own, no parents either, apparently, she's a child of Hekate, but that really doesn't matter.

Something about the girl's every move, about the way she approaches the darkness without fear, about the way she approaches him, like she's known him all his life, the way she uses her whole body when talking.

It reminds Nico of Bianca. This girl's soul is just like Bianca's.

And Nico supposes it's no longer a fatal flaw, but he still doesn't know how to let go.

Nico immediately claims her on the spot, lets her sleep on the Hades Cabin, helps her out with everything, takes care of her for years and years.

It's the first time in centuries, that Nico as a God feels connected to his mortal side.

When the little girl cuddles against him, because she's had yet another nightmare about manticores and huge robots, while Nico quietly tries to hug her, and reassure her she's going to be fine, he even starts thinking that maybe his family has grown, yet again.

And then, she's send off on a Quest, Nico loudly protests against it, because he knows how those end.

Because, he still remembers waking up screaming and trashing, in the middle of the night, inside the Hermes Cabin, surrounded by strangers and shadows, as he felt Bianca's soul perish away.

But it's no use, the Oracle of her time had already issued her prophecy, this new girl, Rachel having long since passed away, who Nico feels almost comfortable cursing in the spot, just like his father had done so many centuries ago.

The little girl leaves, and Nico now has nobody to swear to keep her protected. Nico knows it's useless to try to convince her to stay, but he still does, it doesn't work, it never has worked

But truth is, she doesn't even look scared.

She's excited, and ready, and determined, and Nico has to wonder if this is how Bianca looked like, during her last week on Earth, too.

The girl leaves and she doesn't come back.

Nico thinks, it should be easier by now. It isn't, it's never gonna be it

Hades catches Nico roaming mindlessly around Elysium, after noticing his absence from The House, for what's either days, or years.

Hades mournfully reassures Nico that Bianca is not there anymore. No, not this time, not last time, not next time either.

After that, Nico chooses to abandon Camp fully, once again, he doesn't come back for another few centuries, until Hermes asks him for help getting his children to satefy at Camp.

Nico swallows the bile, that he's sure a Godly body like his own, shouldn't be able to produce anymore, shakes Hermes's hands, and tells his cousin his children will make it through, just fine.

Nico rescues the kids, regretfully send them off to live all cramped up together at their Father's Cabin forever, but one of the boys of the bunch, just has such dark eyes, like a black hole consuming souls.

And he stands so proud, and Nico just knows once more, and all at once, because he would recognize Bianca's soul anywhere.

In life, in death, at the end of the world, in a Hekate's daughter, in an Hermes's son, it doesn't matter, the person standing in front of him, is simply Bianca in another skin.

Bianca, being a wild hero once more, and Nico has to wonder if she can see him as clearly as he can see her.

Bianca is the only one after all, who has known him all his life, Bianca knew his name before it was even his own. Nico was born knowing her.

If she can see him, or if she can't, Nico doesn't even know which one would hurt more.

Time passes, and if Nico let's the boy sleep at the Hades Cabin, because the nightmares about manticores, giant robots, and magic are too much to bear, and he can't even scream in peace inside the Hermes Cabin, well, that's only Nico's own business to know about.

Nico realizes, after a few ages of Godhood, that The Fates like repeating their own stories.

Nico knows he hates all of them, deeply and purposefully.

The Oracle comes up to the boy, Nico is sure she must be a new girl, but all the girls Apollo chooses all look the same, and she is the same, she gives the hero the prophecy that will bury him.

And, it doesn't even take Nico a glance to know, that this is where that boy's life thread is cut.

Nico wants to sneer, this would be Bianca's third death, and if a hero dies three times they get the special prize, and yet.

Nico begs the boy to not go, because they both know he's not gonna make it back.

Bianca never has. Bianca never does. This is Bianca's fate. She was already dead before the story even began.

But the boy doesn't even break eye contact with Nico, as he tells Nico that he's very kind, and that he loves him too, but no way.

He's gonna go, and so, the boy does.

The boy leaves and he doesn't come back, and Nico has to crawl at his Godly skin, and remember the sensations, of back when there was human flesh, and blood running through his veins.

And that's just the thing isn't it, that Bianca is never going to stay by his side, because she doesn't want to.

[destielgaysex]

the physical therapist after listening to me describe my pain as a rock stuck in my neck instead of "dull" or "sharp" : okay... and on a scale of 1-10 how would you rate this pain?

my autistic ass who just described my muscle pain from a concussion with a metaphor: a 5 or maybe a 7... POINT FIVE.

the physical therapist: .....

[tsuchinokoroyale]

Was soooooo happy with this phase 1 which is what made it so much funnier that I was immediately clapped by his phase 2 😂

[six-eyed-samurai]

why am I so pathetic

that I am left out of the friend group in my own damn house

that I'm always the last person they think to invite (they didn't even invite me this time)

that I'm just around to help them cheat on their worksheets

that I asked them over for my birthday and they sit in my house gaming amongst each other only

that they think they can do whatever they want and just shout over my voice

that even an outsider noticed that they don't bother including me anymore

that even though no one will say it all I am is a destination to hang out

that they just come visit me to talk with each other on my own birthday

that I keep answering all their messages and agreeing to hangouts and desperately following after them hoping something will change no matter how much it just gets worse

why am I so pathetic

[judasalicent]

i honestly don't even really know where to begin when talking about the fandom culture of pro-sh*pping or the romanticization/fetishization of problematic themes because i've been having the same exact arguments with these people since i started watching game of thrones when i was 14 and it's that i'll say "this is wrong" and "you're interacting with the media uncritically" and the response will always be something like "oh it doesn't matter because it's fake" or "you like the show/book/movie too so you're a hypocrite," or "this is a trauma response and you're being a shitty person because i went through xyz and that means i don't have to worry about the thoughts and feelings of other people" and so then i'm the one who looks wrong and stupid and too serious and not fun and pretentious but honestly where is the line drawn when you are a person who constantly thinks about incest or assault or ped*philia and where is the line drawn when that's what you look for in media and it turns you on or you think it's romantic and where is the line drawn when problematic themes are the only thing you think/post about and you can only interact with any media that way and where is the line drawn when you don't even like problematic things but you defend people who do at the cost of other people and where is the line when queer fans and fans of color are unfairly treated or ignored or infantilized or belittled and meanwhile the people who literally spew/write/drawn the most heinous fucking shit are defended and even celebrated. where is the fucking line.

[mephoj]

something something iii devolving and crumbling as a season with the pacing and forced conflict etc. Could've been an interesting way to tie back to the fact this is the one season mephone is running All By Himself (from what we know anyway) and how its all just a failing desperate grasping attempt for him to feel in control of something for once even though its not working and he's accidentally hurting others by dragging them into it . but unfortunately it is just crumbling because it Kind of sucks

[redvelvetwishtree]

Lmao you guys cannot "antisemitism" your way out of this anymore, that's old tactics which don't work anymore.

Can you also prepare a word for what's happening in Palestine? It's so enraging I can't put into words my anger and upset anymore.

[mbat]

something that i always find wild is when i hear people say about certain things 'youre not supposed to question it', because honestly, 'not supposed to question' something is a big red flag to me. i mean first off, never follow anything blindly, but also

because, well, if the thing being questioned is true, then the person questioning should come to the conclusion its true, so theyd just continue doing what they were doing. but if the thing is false, and the person questioning finds that its false... it was never worth their time in the first place, and they can move on to things that are worth their time

and its just so obvious which is which when someone insists youre not supposed to question it