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scary-grace · 1 month ago

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still life, with hope (part 2) -- a shigaraki x f!reader fic

You're an art student with a crippling fear of birds and an assignment to create art from life, so when you're assigned to study swans, you're pretty much dead in the water. And there's something strange about the swans you find on a secluded lake, something all too human. As your artwork grows increasingly surreal and your suspicions about the swans continue to build, you can't help but ask yourself the question: Are you losing your mind, or have you walked into the middle of a fairytale gone wrong? Whatever it is, you'd better figure it out fast. Seven lives depend on the answer. (cross-posted to Ao3)

This is for @shigarakislaughter, who requested this prompt from my winter prompt list: hear the fallen and lonely cry out / can you fix me up, can you show me hope. I apologize for how long this took, and the fact that it'll be in multiple chapters, but I really hope you like it! Swan Lake AU, modern setting/no quirks, art student!reader. dividers by @cafekitsune.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

“Well, we’re toast.” Shoko slumps against the wall with a sigh. “He’s going to fail us.”

“He can’t fail us if we complete the exhibition,” Kai says, but even through his mask, you can tell he’s demoralized. “We’re simply out of the running for the actual prize.”

You remember when you thought winning the prize and getting your exhibition added to the museum’s permanent collection was attainable, instead of just something you have to watch Keigo or Mirio or one of the professor’s other favorites get. “I don’t understand why he’s mad at us. What did we even do?”

“You and Kai complained about your subjects,” Shoko points out. You grimace. “But there’s no way he’s this mad at me just for hanging out with the two of you.

As far as you can tell, you and Shoko and Kai have been following the instructions for the Capstone project to the letter, but in the eyes of your professor, the three of you can’t do anything right. His critiques run one way in a given week, then the opposite way in the next, and by the third week you’re in trouble for not including them both. He never picks on technique for any of you, which you guess is a good thing – but, to quote your professor, “It takes more than technique to be an artist.” You never leave the critique period feeling anything but dispirited.

This week’s criticism, leveled at all three of you simultaneously, was twofold: First, that you don’t have enough finished pieces, and second, that you don’t have enough variation in the mediums of the insufficient number of finished pieces you have. Kai is griping about it as you walk to the library. “Seven finished pieces is perfectly reasonable. It takes some artists half a year to complete one work they’re happy with. I should have asked him what he thought an appropriate number would be.”

“He’d have said Keigo’s number,” you say glumly.

“Keigo could sneeze on a canvas and the professor would like it,” Shoko says venomously. “Of course Keigo has a billion pieces. Keigo doesn’t have to work.”

“And he doesn’t have to hike to encounter his subject,” Kai says. “And he can afford all the materials he wants.”

The unfairness is starting to get to you as you climb the steps. “So we’re in trouble because we don’t have enough pieces and they aren’t different enough, but workshop hours are limited, and we can’t even use all of them because we’re supposed to go observe – and we’re supposed to do mixed media with equipment we can’t afford in all the time we don’t have?”

“That’s correct.” Shoko mimics the professor, and Kai snorts behind his mask. “We’re screwed. What are we doing in here, anyway?”

“I’m picking up something. I used that library chat thing and asked one of the assistant librarians if they could help me find a book about swans.”

That’s not quite accurate. You asked if they could find a book on fairytales involving swans. You look around for the librarians. “It should just be a second. They said they would –”

“I am here with the stories you requested,” a deep voice rings out, and you, Shoko, and Kai all jump as the head librarian emerges from somewhere in the shadows. “My apologies for startling you. I understand you spoke to one of my assistants, but he had to leave early. He left me to make the delivery.”

The librarian is smiling. You can tell he’s trying to be friendly. Unfortunately, his friendly is yours and everybody else’s terrifying, and Shoko and Kai both take noticeable steps back. You hold your ground and try to smile back. “There is no book pertaining specifically to swans, but my assistant and I collected all relevant stories and printed them here for you,” the librarian says, holding out a binder. “I heard the three of you discussing artworks. Are you participating in the Capstone exhibition?”

“In theory,” Kai says.

“Not if the professor has anything to say about it,” Shoko mutters. “He’s way more of a hard-ass than I thought. All his Rate My Professor reviews were great. Wasn’t there that one about how his smile looks like Buddha’s?”

“That one was really weird,” you say. You take the binder from the librarian, trying to ignore the way his eyes bore into you. He towers over you, scrawny like a scarecrow. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Might I offer a suggestion?” the librarian asks. “If you are unable to find workshop time during the day, why not find it overnight?”

“That’s not allowed,” Kai says. Then he frowns. “Is it?”

“Check the rules,” the librarian suggests. “The building remains open if anyone is in it, and I believe it’s possible to reserve a space in advance – and of course, while in a school workshop, the supplies and equipment are free to use.”

Kai whips out his phone to check. “It is possible,” he reports. “The only day available is next Thursday.”

“Critique is on Friday. That’ll work,” Shoko says. Her eyes brighten. “We could do it.”

“At least then if we get in trouble again, we’ll know we gave it a shot,” you say. “Book it.”

Kai books the studio, and you turn to thank the librarian for the tip. He’s already gone, faded back into the stacks, and Shoko pulls you out of the building in a hurry. “This could work,” she says to you. “If we have a really good idea of what we’re working on going in, and we make sure we have the materials we need –”

“We should bring food and stuff. So we can just keep working even when we’re hungry.”

“I can bring something to assist as well,” Kai says. He sighs. “As you said. When we’re eviscerated in front of the class next week, at least we’ll have tried.”

You and Shoko head home. You live close enough to campus that you can walk instead of bike, but the air is so bitterly cold that you wish you’d taken the three-second shuttle ride to the edge of campus instead. You’re shivering even after you’ve been inside for fifteen minutes and chugged half a cup of hot tea. “I wish we had a fireplace,” Shoko says. “You know, those giant ones they have in castles.”

“That would be bigger than our whole apartment,” you say. “Not disagreeing, though. I hate thinking about how cold it’s going to be up at the lake tomorrow.”

“You’re going up again?” Shoko gives you a weird look. “That’s not a workshop period. And I know you’ve got tons of sketches and small pieces already.”

“Yeah, but they aren’t good enough, I guess.” You were proud of some of this week’s stuff. Even knowing that the critique wasn’t of the quality of today’s finished pieces, it still stings. “Besides, I bought a bunch of stuff for the swans. They get hungry.”

“Wait, you’re feeding them now? They’re wild animals.”

“Not that wild. Somebody clipped their wings.” When you first saw Spooky’s mutilated wing, you were shocked, sad, horrified. Then you did some research, and had some nightmares about skeletal flight feathers and fingernails and toenails peeled off, and now you’re just really pissed. “They’d fly away if they could, but they can’t. They’re stuck and they’re hungry. I’m going to bring them food.”

“Okay, but theoretically they’ve been eating somehow without you,” Shoko says. “If they were at risk of starving, they’d have starved already with however many winters they’ve spent there. Don’t you think?”

You shake your head. “Clipping wings isn’t permanent. Somebody keeps doing it.”

“So let them feed the swans,” Shoko says, and you glare at her. “Okay! Sorry. Sorry. I just – since when do you like swans? I thought you were scared of them.”

“I am,” you say. “I can be scared of them and care about them at the same time.”

“Okay,” Shoko says again. Her expression takes on a thoughtful cast. “Sorry. I’ve known you since freshman year and I’ve never seen you get this committed to anything except art. Not even when you were dating people.”

You and Shoko have bad luck with dating. She keeps trying, but you’re not as good at getting dates as she is, and even when you do, there’s something missing. No matter who’s sitting across the table at the coffee shop from you or walking with you and reaching for your hand, you’ve never felt the kind of pull towards them you’re supposed to. You yearn, sure. You yearn so much that it’s kept you up nights before, or found you crying in the shower when you’ve gotten home from another date that should have worked but didn’t. You know that feeling must be out there somewhere, or people wouldn’t write so many songs about it. You’ve accepted that it’s not going to happen to you.

But that’s the weirdest thing Shoko’s ever said to you, and you can’t let it slide. “I don’t want to date the swans.”

“I’m not saying you want to date the swans,” Shoko says, laughing. “Just that I’ve never seen you get out of bed at six am to go hiking for anything else.”

You laugh, too, but the thought tugs at you for the rest of the day, until you’re getting ready for bed and it becomes crystal-clear. You change out of your day clothes and into your pajamas, and like you have been every day for the past two and a half weeks, you’re confronted with the question of whether to take off Spooky’s feather, which you’ve been wearing on a leather cord around your neck. It’s a harder question than you want it to be.

At first, you had plans for the feather – using it to make impressions on pottery, or turning it into a quill of some kind and using it to draw. But when you thought about doing anything to change it, it felt wrong. Then you decided just to keep it, to use as inspiration, and left it on your desk in your room. Then on your bedside table. And then, because you kept thinking about it while you were away, you secured it on a cord and started wearing it wherever you go.

Flight feathers are big. Even on a short cord, the feather rests along your sternum, close to your heart. You feel better knowing exactly where it is, but you feel worse for worrying about it so much at the same time. And you have a bad feeling that it’s got something to do with your increasingly weird dreams. They’re not quite nightmares, but they blur the lines. No matter where you are in the dream, you feel uneasy, unsafe. You’re always looking for the swans, but you can never find them. All you can find are shapes in the mist. Human shapes. They never turn to look at you but one of them, and you always wake up before you can see their face.

You can’t prove a connection between the two things. But when you sleep with Spooky’s feather on, you dream. When you leave it on your nightstand, you don’t. And when you sleep with it off, you find yourself awake in the middle of the night, checking to see if it’s still there.

You’ve never come up to the lake at night before, but you follow the path you’ve become familiar with, sit down on the rock you always sit, and you don’t flinch when someone settles in beside you. Some of the swans sit near you now – Spinner, usually, if you’re in the sun, and sometimes Needles – but Spooky’s never come closer to you than he did the day he gave you the feather. The feather that you don’t take off. The feather that seems to pulse with a second heartbeat, alongside your own.

You glance sideways at the swan next to you, not entirely surprised to find Spooky. He has one clipped wing unfolded and he’s yanking at his feathers again. This time, with none of the others here to stop you, you shoo him away. “Hey, don’t hurt yourself. Let me see.”

Spooky takes a halfhearted snap at you, but ultimately he lets you nudge his beak away and inspect his wing more directly. He was pulling at different spots, but your attention’s drawn to the missing flight feather, which you’re wearing. “You didn’t have to give me this. I didn’t want you to hurt your wing.”

Doesn’t matter. Spooky’s voice dry and raspy, rough in the same way his hissing is. You’ve never heard what his call sounds like, and you can’t tell whether you’re imagining it or not. I couldn’t fly even if I had it. It’s better with you.

You’re conscious, again, of the feather against your sternum, and questions flutter against your lips. What are you and the others? Why did you give me this? What do you want? None of them are the one you ask. “What happened?”

You already know. Spooky’s red eyes are locked on yours, refusing to let you off the hook when you shake your head, insist out loud that you don’t. You already know. What are you going to do?

You look hopelessly at him, and a cold wind whisks across the lake. It smells like old earth and dark stone, making you shiver and making your skin crawl, but what it does to Spooky is worse. He flinches, fluffing out his feathers. His body rattles, his neck curving at an odd angle – and then, before your eyes, something about him begins to change.

Before you can see what it is, before you can even come close to processing it, the sound of laughter snaps through the dream, and you come back to awareness all at once. You aren’t at the lake. You aren’t so crazy that you’re talking to a swan. You’re in the studio, at school, and the laughter belongs to your roommate. You and your roommate and your weird classmate reserved a studio, and you’ve been here all night. How long have you been sitting like this? The crick in your neck says it’s been a while, and the weird taste in your mouth says it’s been longer since you drank water or ate anything. You straighten up, get to your feet, and then go to check on Shoko and Kai. Maybe they’ve had better luck than you did.

They’re sitting together on the floor, much closer than you’d have expected to find them, and for a second, you’re not sure what you’re seeing. Once you figure it out, you still can’t believe it. “What are you doing?”

Kai swears and drops the palette he’s holding. Luckily it lands face-up. “Kai thought the textures might look better on a person than a canvas,” Shoko says brightly. “I’m helping.”

Unlike Shoko, who looks pretty comfortable with the fact that she’s sitting there in her bra with her arm and shoulder painted to look like the skin of a banana slug, Kai looks like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “How does it look?” he asks.

“I mean, it looks good –” You just can’t work out what happened. “Is this what you guys were doing while I was out? Paint me like one of your French slugs?”

Shoko laughs so hard she cries. Kai doesn’t get the joke. “It’s her turn to paint me next,” he says. You were talking to a swan in your dreams; your roommate was having some weird tripped-out body-painting fantasy. Just your luck. “What did you do?”

“I made some stuff early on, but I think I got off-track.” You spent some time at the pottery wheel, making seven swan-inspired nested vessels, and you know that adding them to your exhibition will give the professor one less thing to critique you on. You look down at your hands, expecting to still be clutching an unused paintbrush, and find your hands empty and covered in red. “Oh my God –”

“It’s paint,” Kai says. He glances back at the corner where you were working. “You must have made something.”

“Yeah, a mess.” You watch as Kai helps Shoko up, careful to leave her painted arm exposed, and the two of them head for your workspace. “Guys, don’t. There’s not going to be anything worth looking at.”

It’s quiet for a few seconds. Then a few seconds more. “False modesty doesn’t suit anyone, least of all you,” Kai says – then makes an odd, winded sound as Shoko smacks him. “Come explain yourself.”

Your hands are so covered in drying paint that you can barely move your fingers. You draw up alongside Kai and Shoko and stare in shock. There’s not a mess on the floor. There’s a canvas, half-covered with a drop cloth, and it’s not even close to being the only piece crowded around your easel. There are at least half a dozen others, all finished. You blink the rest of the daydream out of your eyes and study all of them, feeling more hopeless with every passing second. “They’re all wrong.”

You painted the swans, sure. It’s clear where your inspiration came from. But every piece you’ve painted has something human about it, subtle enough that only you could catch it or so obvious that it can be seen from the moon. You might be able to lie about the portrait of Gorgeous on her favorite rock, but if the professor looks closer he’ll be able to see the suggestion of a woman, her curves outlined with careful shading and hidden beneath a swan’s feathers. The watercolor of Spinner’s wet footprints on the stone would be fine if the footprints weren’t obviously starting to morph into human ones. You’ve got no excuse for the close-up black-background oil painting of Needles’s beak, open to bite – and full of human teeth. That thing’s going to give people nightmares.

And it keeps getting worse. Everywhere you look, you see clipped wings, skeletal flight feathers, and in Sneaky’s portrait you haven’t even been subtle about the outline of a human hand within the wing. Sooty’s painting doesn’t have any creepy human elements, but you can feel fury leaking through it, so much that Kai, who’s been enthusiastically examining the tooth painting, recoils slightly when Shoko holds it up for him to examine. “Don’t use that one. It’s unsettling.”

“It’s about the only one I can use,” you say miserably. “It’s the only one that’s just a swan.”

“Hang on. What are these?” Shoko is sorting through yet another stack of canvases. Her eyes widen. “I don’t care if these look human. You have to use them.”

You know even before you look at the first one that it’ll be of Spooky, and it is – focused tightly on his head, his red eyes as the centerpiece. Except his eyes are human, with eyelids and lashes that fade into his feathers, and they’re boring right through the painting into your soul. It gets worse with every painting. No matter your medium, no matter the size of the canvas or the style you’re experimenting with, you’re seeing things that aren’t there.

Human hands caged inside ruined wings. A human body straining to run, caught within a swan’s awkward frame. A swan afloat on the lake, a human drowning beneath the surface – and then one that’s barely a swan at all. Nothing more than a man crouched at the water’s edge, wrapped in a cloak of white feathers, his hair so long and white that you can’t tell whether it ends and the feathers begin.

“This is surreal,” Kai remarks. “I didn’t know you were exploring that style.”

“I wasn’t exploring anything. I don’t remember making this.” You don’t remember making any of it, really. When you claw through your memories of the last few hours, you find yourself setting up canvases, squeezing paint onto palettes, switching out your brushes over and over again, but never sitting down and making a choice about what to paint. You look down at your hands and cringe again. “I don’t even know what I was doing with all this red.”

“Fingerpainting.”

“Says the guy who’s painting my roommate like one of his French slugs.” You ignore Shoko’s laughter and study the covered canvas. Unless you were sitting here drinking red paint with your hands, that’s the only place you could have used it. You steel yourself and pull down the drop cloth. “Oh.”

Your hands might be red, but the canvas is black. The scene hasn’t been painted on it – it’s been carved, and you can see red underneath it. You covered this whole canvas in red, painted black over it once it dried, and then etched into it like you were doing sgraffito on a piece of pottery. It would be a really cool effect if you’d drawn a swan. Instead you drew a man on his knees, his back to the viewer, his arms wrapped around himself. He’s clawing at his shoulders, and you can see his shoulder blades erupting through his skin, feathers already sprouting along their edges.

It’s the same man from the last painting you looked at, but while he’s the first thing the viewer’s eye goes to, he’s not the focal point of the piece. The focal point is the enormous, disembodied hand, emerging out of the darkness and poised to come down on him. “That looks like a nightmare,” Kai says after a long, horrible silence.

It is one. Yours. “Maybe don’t use that one,” Shoko says, and you nod. “Everybody awake?”

Awake enough to know you’re screwed. You nod again, and so does Kai. “I’m hungry,” Shoko says. “Let’s eat – and then I’m making you an anemone.”

She’s pointing at you. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, but Kai’s idea looks like fun and I want to try it,” she says. You start to suggest that she should paint Kai instead and she cuts you off. “You’re going to paint Kai. Make him a swan.”

“Why not?” You’re already dead in the water. You might as well seal the deal. “Let’s do it.”

“This is an impressive achievement,” the professor is saying to Kai, and as much as you hate to admit it when you know a blistering critique’s headed your way, he’s right. “You’ve increased the diversity of your exhibition significantly. Focusing on texture rather than milieu seems to have inspired you.”

“Yes,” Kai says after a moment, “it has.”

You’re pretty sure that Kai was less inspired by the texture of slugs and more by the texture of your roommate’s skin, but you’re not going to argue that the stuff he made during last night’s sleep-deprived art spree isn’t good. Shoko got a standout review for her pieces, too, and both she and Kai got better critiques than the professor’s usual favorites. Keigo and Mirio still look a little shell-shocked. You’d feel bad for them if they hadn’t been so smug about it until now – and if you weren’t about to get your ass publicly kicked, too.

Kai sits down with full marks for the week, and then it’s your turn to present your work. You came up with a grand total of two usable pieces, plus your nesting vessels, and although the professor has positive things to say about the vessels, you know you’re in for it when it comes to the paintings. Ultimately, you could only really present the paintings of Sooty and Gorgeous. The others are too surreal, or too far off the subject. Seven vessels, two paintings. There’s no way you’re getting out of this in one piece.

The professor studies your paintings. “You’ve captured the spirits of your subjects quite effectively in these, and you’ve used the features of the setting to draw attention to your subjects, not to obscure them. That’s certainly an improvement from your first paintings.”

It is, but none of what he’s just said is a compliment, and you and he both know it. He’s quiet for a moment. “I rather expected more pieces, given the quantity of art supplies you apparently consumed during your overnight in the studio.”

He didn’t make Kai and Shoko justify their art supply usage. You grit your teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“Uh, professor?” Shoko raises her hand halfway, and the professor turns to look at her. “She’s got more pieces. A lot more. She made more stuff than me and Kai combined.”

“Is that so?” The professor turns back to you, and you stop trying to shush Shoko in a hurry. “Where are the other pieces?”

“In storage,” you say. “They weren’t appropriate for the exhibition.”

“Did they feature swans?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Kai says, ignoring you when you glare at him. “Swans were prominently featured in almost all of them.”

“Then I will be the judge of whether your pieces are appropriate,” the professor says. He gestures at you. “Bring them out.”

You have to make two trips, even with Kai’s help and Shoko’s – and Keigo’s, for some reason. With the too-human set of paintings added in, your output for the studio lock-in is truly absurd, and the professor goes through your canvases one at a time. He doesn’t ask you to explain anything. He doesn’t question why so many of the paintings have suggestions or outright sledgehammer blows of humanity embedded in them. His expression doesn’t start to change until you start lifting the series on Spooky into view. When you reveal the first painting, the one of Spooky’s head with human eyes, he nods. By the time you uncover the second-to-last canvas, the one where Spooky’s more human than swan, your professor is beaming.

“Marvelous,” he says. “Simply marvelous.”

“Sir?” you ask, bewildered. “I don’t understand. I made them too human –”

“Which proves to me that you’ve gained an understanding of them,” your professor says. “Do you remember when you were first assigned swans as your subject? You regarded them with fear and wished to keep them at a distance. These pieces suggest to me that you’ve found ways to connect to your subject on a deeper level, enough to imagine personhood within them.”

Enough to hallucinate personhood within them. You can imagine it perfectly fine on your own, but you would never have put it into an art piece if you hadn’t been in some kind of weird trance last night. “This new understanding of your subjects combined with your technique make this a very impressive body of work,” your professor concludes. “Congratulations, my dear. Consider yourself well in the running.”

He didn’t say that to Shoko or Kai. You’ve never heard him mention the prize to anybody else during a critique. You collect your pieces and sit down again, and when the professor turns the class loose to use the remainder of the workshop time on refining pieces or adjusting based on critiques, several of your classmates come up to you. Keigo’s one of them. “These are amazing,” he says to you earnestly, grinning. “I had no idea you could do stuff like this. I guess I should have been keeping a closer eye on you.”

“Maybe,” you say, and shrug. Spooky’s feather flutters against your breastbone beneath your shirt. “I had to catch a good critique at some point, right?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Keigo leans closer, close enough for you to smell smoke. “Either way, it’s definitely overdue.”

You’d feel more like that if you’d done this on purpose. Any of it. You know it’s your work. When you look at it, you can see your fingerprints on each piece, identify every place when conventional wisdom pointed in one direction and you went the other way. By now, your memory of making them came back completely, except for the most important part of it: Where you got the idea. All you have to go on is the vision or nightmare or whatever it was where you talked to Spooky at the lake. And whatever started to happen to him when the wind came through.

“Oh, come on,” you complain. Needles looks up at you, unrepentant. “Did you have to do that?”

Needles rustles her wings. You could swear she looks smug, but for the life of you, you can’t figure out why she’d be proud of knocking over your water bottle on purpose. And you have a rule about when you leave the lake, one you had to institute to make sure you’re not hiking through the forest in the dark. “I have to go home now. You know that, right?”

Needles honks at you. She looks towards the lake, then towards your water bottle, then back towards the lake. You’ve given up on pretending that the swans can’t communicate with you somehow. “I’m not drinking that. You guys use the lake as a bathroom.”

Needles honks again. This time she sounds offended, and when you try to pick up your water bottle, she takes a snap at your fingers. You don’t want to leave without your water bottle, and you don’t actually want to leave, period. You peer into your backpack, hoping for a spare water bottle. You don’t have one, but you’ve got a box of water purification tablets that Shoko gave you. Those would work, right? You nod and reach for your water bottle again. This time, Needles lets you have it.

While you wait for the tablets to dissolve in the water bottle, you go back to sketching. All the swans have been sticking close today, and you’ve had a chance to draw all of them, Spooky included. Spooky’s sitting still, almost close enough to touch, changing positions every so often, like he knows how long it takes for you to finish a preliminary sketch. As a trade-off for acknowledging that the swans aren’t normal, you’ve forced yourself to stop drawing them like people. There’s something about Spooky’s awkward grace that compels you, whether you’re imagining humanity in your sketches of him or not.

Lake water plus water purification tablets doesn’t taste that bad, as it turns out, and the sun is bright enough today that you’ve started feeling warm. You can feel yourself descending into a trance, sort of like the one you fell into during the studio lock-in, and you keep snapping yourself awake. You see enough weird stuff in your dreams as it is. You don’t want it translating into your sketchbook. Besides, you’d rather draw Spooky the way he is than get all fanciful with it. All of this is weird enough without believing that there might be –

A sudden wash of cold startles you. Startles you awake. You look down at your sketchbook in horror and realize that you’ve been drawing on the cardboard back panel of it for who knows how long. The panel is covered in what you can only describe as doodles – hands, eyes, feet, feathers, overlapping into an almost-incomprehensible mass. How much of your sketchbook did you ruin to get here?

You flip back through the pages, relieved to note that at least some of the drawings are potentially useful. But you’re having to squint to see them clearly. At first you wonder if it’s just residual sleepiness. Then you realize that it’s getting dark.

It’s not just getting dark. It is dark. The last shreds of light are disappearing behind the mountains, and even if you get up right now and run the whole way back to the road, you’ll still be biking home in the dark. Can you even make it through the woods before night actually falls? You grab for your backpack, try to get to your feet, but your hands hit feathers. The swans have you surrounded. There’s nowhere you can put your hands that you won’t be putting weight on somebody’s wings.

They’ve never gotten this close to you before. What are they doing? “Guys, please move,” you say. They stir, feathers rustling, but none of them move. “I have to get home. If I can’t get through the woods before the sun goes down –”

Then what? You don’t know, but the feeling of foreboding that settles over you makes your skin crawl. Rather than moving away, the swans pack themselves in even more tightly around you, Gorgeous and Silly pressed against your back, Sneaky and Spinner and Sooty hemming you in on either side, Needles in front of you to cut off your escape from that direction. And Spooky – Spooky was sitting in front of you, until you closed your sketchbook. Now he gets up, closes the distance between the two of you, and climbs up into your lap.

Your face turns bright red for reasons beyond your comprehension, and your efforts to get up fall apart as your desperation to get Spooky off of you takes precedence. You’ve been thinking a lot about swans – way more than you ever wanted to – but none of it’s ever extended to physically handling them. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you say. Spooky makes eye contact, like he can hear you, like he can understand – and then he settles in. “Hey. No. Come on –”

What are you going to do?

He hasn’t spoken. He can’t talk, because he’s a swan, and it’s only a memory echoing through your head. A memory of a hallucination or a dream, something not real, not real, not real. It can’t be real. You shouldn’t have drunk the lake water. Now you’re going out of your mind for good, and as you struggle to deal with Spooky, the last rays of light vanish, plunging the lake into darkness.

It’s silent for a moment, everything still. And then, just like in your dream, an icy wind stirs up, tearing across the lake. Old earth, dark stone, the kind of chill that settles into your bones and refuses to leave. It’s strong enough to sting your skin, more than strong enough to ruffle the swans’ feathers. But something’s happening to the swans as the wind whips around all of you, forming a vortex with the eight of you at its center. Something awful.

You hear huffs of breath as air leaves their lungs, dry-twig snaps as bones break and bodies deform, the hideous sound of living creatures being reshaped before your eyes. You’ve captured some of this in your sketches, you realize with a surge of horror – but seeing the whole process together, beginning to end, is nightmarish. You’ll never be able to un-see it. And because Spooky is in your lap, you can feel it, too.

As their mouths transform, you hear pained grunts, whimpers of agony as teeth sprout from gums and jaws re-hinge themselves. Feathers retreat back into the skin and feet slough their webbing before splitting and reforming, revealing ankles, insteps, toes. Spooky, somehow still sprawled across your lap, jerks and shudders like he’s having a seizure, his back arching as his spine elongates. The wind picks up even further, full of ice and dirt and grit, and you squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t want to see any more. Hearing and feeling it is bad enough.

The wind dies away as suddenly as it appeared, and everything goes still around you. Still, and quiet, save for the ragged breathing of the seven people sprawled across the rocks with you, all of them naked. Including the one who’s still in your lap. You open your eyes and look down into Spooky’s face. Spooky, who’s human now, white-haired and red-eyed, terrifyingly familiar. You know his face. It’s the one you’ve been drawing, any time you sketch a swan with a little too much humanity.

You recoil as far as you can go, shoving him out of your lap and falling backwards onto Silly and Gorgeous. Gorgeous huffs as air leaves her lungs, but Silly starts protesting. “Be careful! My ribs just got back where they’re supposed to go. Don’t ruin them again!”

“Forget your ribs, what about my hand?” Sooty yanks his hand from beneath yours. You hadn’t noticed he was there. His hand is scarred. Burned. “I told you this was a bad idea. And you – we told you not to sit in her lap –”

Spooky scowls, struggling to pick himself up off the rock. “We told you,” Needles agrees. You were right about her – she looks younger than the rest of them, and she’s a girl. “Women don’t like naked men in their laps.”

“Not strange naked men, at least.” Sneaky’s keeping a respectful distance while he goes through your backpack. The only other one who’s reacting normally to being naked is Spinner, who’s hunched over and facing away from you. “That assault on your dignity is exactly what you deserved.”

Spooky’s scowl deepens. Even in the moonlight, you can see a flush coming up on his pale face, spreading down along the column of his throat to his chest. “We aren’t strangers.”

His voice is the same as the one you heard in your dream – dry, raspy, quiet. You must be losing your mind. “I’m never drinking lake water again.”

“We didn’t want to make you drink it,” Spinner says. “But you had to stay. You had to see. And it only happens at night.”

“I’m cold,” Silly whines. “Can we go inside yet?”

Inside where? “I need to go home.”

“You can’t,” Gorgeous says immediately. “The woods aren’t safe at night. The beast is out there.”

“The beast?” you repeat, incredulous. “What’s the beast?”

“You don’t have to worry about the beast if it’s daylight or you’re past the edge of the trees,” Spinner says. “You’re safe here.”

“But it is cold,” Sneaky agrees. “Perhaps we should move this party elsewhere. I believe you asked at one point where we spend the night?”

You did. You were mainly talking to yourself, because you thought they were swans, and swans don’t talk. “What are you guys?”

“We’ll explain inside,” Needles says. She hops up, and you avert your eyes in a hurry. She makes an impatient sound. “Take my hands and I’ll show you. You can leave your backpack here so it won’t get wet –”

“And you should take your clothes off,” Sooty suggests, getting to his feet. The burns aren’t restricted just to his hands. His hair is white, like most of his plumage as a swan, but you can see where his char markings must have come from. “It’ll be easier that way.”

“Uh, no.” You get to your feet and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m not taking my clothes off. I don’t even know what you –”

“There’s a cave we stay in at night. It has hot springs, so it’s warm. We can only get to it by water.” Spooky’s also picking himself up. He keeps his back to you. “Keep your clothes on if you want.”

“Usually, we’re inside before the sun goes down,” Gorgeous explains. “Rest assured, we’ll be just as cold as you are.”

This is insane. Everything about this is insane. You’re surrounded by naked people who used to be swans, and now they want you to go skinny-dipping in a mostly-frozen lake with them on the promise that there’s somewhere warmer on the other side. Except – you don’t have the equipment to spend the night out here. You don’t know if there really is a beast in the woods, but you do know you don’t want to find out. If you’re stuck here overnight and the swans have somewhere warm to stay, you need to take them up on it. And you don’t want to spend all night in wet clothes.

You keep your bra and underwear on, just so you won’t lose your entire mind, and you follow Needles, Silly, and Sneaky as they lead the way into the water. The first few steps down into the water are painful, but by the time you’re submerged up to your chest, it’s impossible to hold your breath. Or even to move. The cold is that intense and paralyzing. If you have to submerge all the way, you’ll drown.

“Here!” Spinner’s teeth are chattering, but he’s moving through the water better than you are. He gets in front of you and holds out his hands for yours. “Follow me. I’ll help. It’s not far.”

You put your hands in Spinner’s and follow him, putting all your focus into putting one foot in front of the other as the muscles in your legs cramp and lock into place. “Get it together,” Sooty mumbles off to your right, and you glance at him. “Not you. You.”

You don’t know who he’s talking to, but a moment later, Spinner lets go of your hands, and Spooky takes his place. You were pretty bad at coping with Spooky as a swan. Coping with Spooky as a human is a lot harder. His hair is white, like Sooty’s, but his is long, so long that the ends are already trailing through the water. That doesn’t surprise you. That’s the way you drew him, after all. It occurs to you all at once that you didn’t leave his feather on shore with your backpack and your clothes and your shoes. It’s still around your neck on its cord, floating ahead of you in the water.

“Pay attention,” Spooky says, and you realize you’ve been looking everywhere but at his face. “You’ve been looking at us for months now. It should be easier now that you know who we really are.”

“I don’t know who you really are,” you say. Maintaining eye contact, looking into his crimson eyes, feels like a lot right now. You focus your gaze lower, somewhere between his nose and his chin. “I only know the nicknames I gave you.”

“We like those,” Gorgeous says from somewhere behind you. Her teeth are chattering, too. “Most of us do, anyway. You even got Spinner’s right.”

“Wait, really?” That thought is enough to temporarily distract you from the cold, and the brittle grip Spooky has on your hands. “You really go by Spinner?”

Spinner nods. Meanwhile, Spooky is leading you around an outcropping in the rocks, and the water’s almost up to your chin. You tip your head upwards to keep it out of your mouth. Needles’s voice issues from around the other side of the outcropping, echoing strangely. “We don’t pee in the lake,” she says. “We go up on the bank. We’re not gross.”

“Sorry.” You’re so cold you can barely think. “It’s not you. I don’t want to drink this stuff again if it hypnotizes me.”

“It only does what we want it to,” Sneaky says.

“What he wants it to,” Spinner corrects. “Come on. We’re almost there.”

You reach the other side of the outcropping, and see what’s behind it – a cave, tucked between the rocks. The last stretch of water you cross is the coldest, and the deepest, too. You have to swim, your limbs shot through with pins and needles, the lake’s frozen depths sucking at you from below. But then you’re through, passing through the dark maw of the cave underwater with your eyes shut and coming up at the edge of a small, pebbly shore. When you drag yourself out of the water, the air that puffs against your skin is warm.

The cave isn’t dark. There’s bioluminescent moss and fungi growing here and there, and while it’s still dim, you’re able to see well enough to make your way up from the shore to the hot springs. The swans are gathering by the largest of the pools, stepping in one by one, and you join them. All at once the weirdness of the entire situation overwhelms you. It’s seven naked people and you in your bra and underwear, all hanging out in a hot spring in a cave, and those people were swans half an hour ago. “So, um – are you swans who turn into humans, or humans who turn into swans?”

“Yes,” Silly says promptly. “No.”

“We were humans to start with,” Sooty says, annoyed. “Now we turn into swans every morning, and we go back to being human at night.”

“Okay,” you say. “Why?”

It’s quiet for a moment. The other swans are looking at Spooky, so you look at Spooky, too. He’s facing away from the others, head ducked, shoulders hunched. You’d thought the swans were all equal at first, that none of them was in charge, but in spite of the way they were picking on Spooky earlier, they’re all looking to him now. Spooky doesn’t stir. “We’re under a curse,” he says. “It’s my fault.”

Silly punches him in the arm. So does Needles. “You didn’t curse us, Spooky-kun.”

“I didn’t stop it. And don’t call me that. You know my name.” Spooky lifts his head to glare at her, then drops it back down again. His arms are folded on the shore, his head pillowed on them. “My teacher put a curse on them, and I couldn’t stop him. I can’t break it, either. It’s my fault.”

You try to decide if you believe in magic now. If you believe in curses. You’re not sure if you have a choice. There’s no scientific explanation for people turning into swans. “How long have you been like this?”

“A long time,” Spooky says, and your heart sinks. “Someone else explain. I don’t want to.”

“Me! I’ll do it!”

“No,” Sooty says. “I’ll do it. You all can’t explain worth shit.”

Silly scowls. Needles pouts. Spinner and Sneaky and Gorgeous just look tired, and something occurs to you. “How many times have you tried to explain?”

They don’t answer. You sort of knew they wouldn’t, but it was worth a try. Sooty leans back against the side of the pool, his arms crossed over his chest. “Magic exists,” he says. “No one believes in it anymore, but it existed then, and it exists now. Most of us studied under a traveling sorcerer, until he was imprisoned. With him gone, we went looking for a new teacher. Some of us can sense sources of magic. We went looking for a powerful source, and we wound up here with Shigaraki.”

“Shigaraki?” you repeat. Sooty points at Spooky, who doesn’t stir. “Okay. You came here and found Shigaraki. What happened next?”

You learn the swans’ real names slowly as Spooky tells the story. You already knew Spinner’s, but you match names to nicknames – Magne to Gorgeous, Atsuhiro to Sneaky, Jin to Silly and Himiko to Needles. Sooty doesn’t share his own name for a while, and when he does, it strikes you as just as much of a nickname as Sooty is. Not that it matters. Whatever his name is, the story he’s telling is unreal. Unbelievable. Or it would be, if you hadn’t seen the swans transform for yourselves.

When the others came to the old estate and met Shigaraki, they met his teacher, too. They knew his teacher was cruel, but he was kind to them, so they didn’t care. They learned from him, but they befriended Shigaraki, and Shigaraki told them that his teacher was worse than cruel – that he was stealing Shigaraki’s magic to bolster his own, and he’d do the same to them if they stayed. Shigaraki told them to run. They wouldn’t leave unless he agreed to run, too.

“We tried,” Spinner says. Sooty, or Dabi, got bored a while ago and demanded that somebody else finish the story. You didn’t see where he went after he left the hot springs. “He caught us. He said that if we’d left Shigaraki, he would have let us go, but since we tried to take him with us, he’d make sure we stayed together forever. And that was when he put us under the curse.”

“That was almost a hundred years ago,” Magne says, and your jaw drops. “He returns to clip our wings, so we can’t leave.”

“We can’t use magic in our swan forms, so we can’t stop him. He always comes during the day,” Atsuhiro says. “And if we were to try to leave at night –”

“The beast,” Jin says, and shivers in spite of the warm water. “It won’t let us go.”

“The only way we can get out is if the curse is broken,” Magne says. “He gave us a hundred years to try. After that –”

“We won’t turn into people at night anymore,” Spinner says. “We’ll be swans forever, and we’ll forget we were ever people to start with. We have to break the curse –”

“And you’re almost out of time,” you guess. “If it happened almost a hundred years ago –”

“We have until spring,” Dabi says as he walks by, headed for the water’s edge. “Then it’s over.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Himiko says, speaking up for the first time in a while. She sits forward, her amber eyes bright. “We can break the curse. You can help us do it. You will, won’t you? You like us. You want to help us.”

You do. Ever since you saw Spooky’s – Shigaraki’s – clipped wing, you’ve worried about them, wanted to help them, wondered if there was something you could do. “I want to help,” you say, and Himiko beams at you. You remember your painting of her beak, full of human teeth, and shiver. “What do I have to do?”

“You can’t.” Shigaraki hasn’t spoken since he ordered someone else to tell the story. He still won’t look up. “We’ve tried before. People find their way here, and we get our hopes up, and it never works. It won’t work with you, either.”

“You don’t know that,” you say. Shigaraki scoffs. “You don’t. Why don’t you tell me what it is, and then I’ll tell you if I can do it or not.”

Shigaraki won’t answer, and Himiko fills in. Her smile has an anxious cast this time. “You just have to love one of us,” she says. “And you have to be true until spring.”

You sit there for a moment, nonplussed. “That’s it?” you ask, and the swans give you identical strange looks. “I don’t have to go on a quest or anything?”

“You don’t even have to love one of us,” Spinner says. “Just promise to be faithful.”

“And it’s not ‘one of us’,” Dabi says. He climbs down into the pool again, jostling Shigaraki on the way, and somehow you know what he’s about to say even before he says it. “It’s him.”

<- Chapter 1

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @shikiblessed @handumb @f3r4lfr0gg3r @boogiemansbitch @warxhammer @agente707 @stardustdreamersisi @koohiii @atspiss @minniessskii @dance-with-me-in-hell @evilcookie5 @issaortiz @deadhands69 @baking-ghoul @xeveryxstarfallx @lvtuss @cheeseonatower @lacrimae-lotos @aslutforfictionalmen

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura shigaraki x you #shigaraki x you #x reader #reader insert #man door hand hook car door #swan lake au

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a-power-outlet · 1 month ago

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how would sex work in vault 33?

as a biologist by training, with way too many classes on reproduction, i found myself wondering the answer to this question.

we have only a few lines to work off of to establish these theories. firstly, lucy saying she can't wait for "the real deal" on her wedding day. then, later, she asks maximus directly if he'd like to have sex. not really much, i know. but, i have a few ideas despite this.

also my sources on this include autism that made me rewatch the show five billion times, and a degree in biology + animal science. a lot of research at my school is on reproduction. i almost worked with sperm. a good friend of mine did a study on sex.

i enjoy making video essay-type posts on things since i do research lmao. so, let's dive into some procreation!

in short:

vaults 32 and 33 have a very comprehensive sexual education curriculum, and sexual intimacy is very casual and common.

however, penetrative + procreative sex is reserved for married couples, and-

non-procreative sex is allowed for all. this includes hands, mouths,... other parts. anything that doesn't make a baby.

socially, these rules are kept in line, since no one wants to be the one to have a kid that overloads the food supply or water chip, especially not in a meritocracy.

there may or may not be contraception. i say only married couples get it, since there's likely a limit on number of children they can have.

on the first point, it was clear that lucy knew a good amount about sex. (sex, here, is used generally to mean all acts of intimacy, including nonpenetrative). lucy knew what to do when with monty. lucy offered sex after maximus said she smelt good, and was casual/knowledgeable in what he meant about ejaculation. this could be because of her 'experience' with chet (i don't like discussing this much), but also it's reasonable to extrapolate that she was just taught about all of this in school. they likely sat people down and were like, hey, this is how to make a baby. this is how to pleasure a partner. etc etc etc.

it'd make sense for them to be taught all of this, since 32/33 are explicitly a breeding program. so, it's good to teach them how to procreate effectively. however, they are a breeding program.

the goal, overall, is to make super managers. and i'd like to think bud knows a lil bit about science and selective breeding. so, controlling who people reproduce with is step 1 of making this work. the best way to selectively breed for a trait is to select individuals who exhibit these traits, then put them together. bam, you are one step closer to a super manager. so, you'd make sure marriages are between favorable people, bada bing bada boom.

it's like dog breeding, if you want a less human-centric example. it's also literally eugenics, but bud would definitely dislike that descriptor. it's his own words, he wants a super manager, and 32/33 are breeding pools. so, he's gotta ensure that his breeding program continues without a hitch.

it makes sense, then, for only married couples to perform procreative sex. only married couples can actually reproduce, as they have been approved by the council (and whomever else may be peeking in, like bud). and i think that the stigma associated with a child out of wedlock, as well as education on what makes a baby, how a baby affects the parents and the community, etc., are all ways to keep people from reproducing willy-nilly. the vault clearly prides itself on good deeds, so spinning it as a bad deed that must never happen probably is pretty effective in preventing it. it's not guaranteed, but it just might work.

(plus, you can let them do other things,,, which i touch on later.)

i know i'd hate to be the one to have a kid that throws the entire delicately-balanced vault ecosystem out of balance. one more body may prove too much for the water chip, or the crops! and coming out of the famine (which. may or may not have happened), the idea of keeping the population in-check would be more prevalent within the dwellers.

although, they probably had a mini baby-boom afterwards to get the population back up, because there's a notable lack of 20-30 year olds. imo there's a lot of kids, and a lot of older people. then, mostly young adults died in the famine.

either way, having too many kids would cause problems, especially to have a kid (gasp) without being married. educate them on how to avoid this, and give them alternatives.

i doubt, though, that they'd shun people for having a kid out of wedlock. they'd help and support them, but definitely make them marry to preserve the order.

plus, the way lucy says she needs a suitable marriage partner, to me, moreso seems like marriage is the sole track to procreation, and likely the main psychological method to keep babies from popping up all over. let only the married ones create babies, both to prevent overpopulation AND to control the experiment as a whole.

also, though, it's clear that they don't demonize sex before marriage. and, there's no surefire way to actually prevent people from doing things outside of marriage. religions have tried for millennia to control the whims of human sexual desires. so, callback to my teaser, i think that unmarried individuals can do anything but penis in vagina sex. no making babies, so do anything else. literally anything else.

to frame it with what's been said, they have good sex education. they want to keep reproduction in check, and banning all sex outside of marriage does absolutely nothing to help with that. so, then, why not allow unmarried individuals to be intimate in other ways? handjobs, oral, grinding, heavy petting, there are so many options to allow for people to still scratch the itch whilst not actively posing the risk of making a baby. educate them on how to do these other acts, show them how to be healthy and relieve their urges, but insist, simultaneously, that babies are to be avoided.

it'd also present the idea of freedom, and let dwellers 'socialize', even if their reproduction is heavily controlled. plus, it's good for you! yay! go fuck your neighbor! relieve yourself!

i do want to comment on contraceptives, since i do think there's a chance they exist. i feel like they'd be highly prevalent in in-game vaults if they were something that was available, especially since other vaults have a much lower capacity of people. not every vault has a high-tech atrium growing a bunch of crops. 32 and 33 are also comparatively huge, but that may just be a limit of the game systems (since we can't enter a lot of rooms and dwellings in vaults). even still, you'd want to make sure people didn't get knocked up and overpopulate the vault, causing the mouse utopia that bud mentions.

vault 32/33 may then be an exception, and might have condoms to allow for penetrative intercourse. but imo there's no implication that what chet and lucy did even included that. 'messing around' and marriage being 'the real deal', to me, sounds like lucy hadn't gone that far, so to speak, prior to monty. we also don't know what specifically she was offering with maximus, since 'sex' can refer to any combination of intimate acts. there's many, MANY ways for this all to be interpreted, and ways to achieve the same goal of 'no babies unless said babies would get us closer to or will themselves be super managers'.

i also think the vaults have a limit on how many kids people can have, to help curb overpopulation. married couples may have access to these contraceptives, and i doubt they'd have their tubes tied, since remarriage/making new pairings is a thing. so, only 2 babies per household. no more. stop it.

the vaults likely just have a low rate of fertilization overall, helping with the whole overpopulation thing. be it from the toxic chemicals in their environments, the literal nuclear-fueled devices they wear on their wrists, or the generally poor diet they seem to have (it is better than the wasteland at least), there's likely a lower chance of fertilization and successfully carrying a child to term. the latter is less plausible since i KNOW they'd have good obstetrics to both keep the mother alive, and gain a new life for the vault.

steph's what i mainly base this on because it seems like she was married to bert since the last triennial trade, but only now had her first child. if fertilization was top-notch, they'd definitely be on baby number 2 by now. she also seems incredibly enthusiastic about this whole baby thing, but that could fully be a ruse. regardless, she signed up knowing that she'd be sent into the other vaults to have babies, since i assume she knows exactly what's going on in the experiment. and she doesn't seem to hate the idea of having kids, since she's happy to raise her kids with lucy. so, it took her an awfully long time to have that first baby. i say this is likely from low fertilization rates, but it's also possible that she likes the having kids thing far less than she puts on.

the final tldr (my abstract, perhaps?): vaults 32 and 33 are a breeding experiment to make super managers. to keep this goal in-sight, reproduction within these vaults has to be finely-tuned and controlled. only married couples, which have been approved, are allowed to procreate. to therefore try and curb babies born out of wedlock, 32/33 allow for sexual acts that don't make a baby (i.e. handjobs, oral sex, etc.). social stigma also helps prevent procreation, especially when looking at the limited resources and space within the vaults themselves. it's uncertain if contraceptives exist within the vaults, and fertilization rates may or may not be low as well. regardless, preventing the experiment from going off-the-rails is necessary, so a social + rules-based system was likely put in place to ensure its success.

to end, i also want to note that this shit is fucked up lmao. i'm not like "yay vault tec control people", it's just like. mmm how strange and convoluted can vault-tec be. what other ways can they implement to make humans into guinea pigs for their fucked up experiments.

anyways. thanks 4 reading this far. as always, please feel free to comment your thoughts. i probably won't budge on a lot since this is the backbone for my own lore/stories, but i still like to hear what other people think!

#outlet yaps #fallout headcanons #fallout tv #fallout on prime #norm maclean #lucy maclean #knight maximus #stephanie harper #steph harper #i love when scientists are just a little bit fucked up #outlet headcanons

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joekitsu · 1 month ago

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Kryptonians: Fungal Analogues?

A semi-comprehensive study by Kitsu

X / Next ->

Overview: To analyse the anatomy and communal habits of the alien species Kryptona filius [Latin, Kryptona: <of> Krypton - native planet; filius: ‘child/son’ (Child of Krypton)], common name ‘Kryptonians’ for documentation and further research.

Krypton is a Planet with a red sun in Sector 1003 (see Green Lantern corps documentation), with a diverse biosphere and a highly intelligent dominant species. Kryptonians, as they have been named, look to be quite humanoid (bipedal with 4 limbs and a distinct cranial space). On a surface level, they appear to share physical traits with human kind, but that seems to be where their similarities end.

They show technological advancements beyond human levels, heirarchal systems, guilds and a well established henotheistic religious system.

[Rao-orthodox Religion, also known as Raoism for short, is the primary religion of Krypton. Adherents of this religion worship the god Rao, which is based on the planet’s sun. The religion also includes a pantheon of 14 major deities, 203 demigods, and over 1000 Titans. The religion’s main sacred text is ‘the Book of Rao’, which contains a wealth of religious and historical information.]

Running Hypothesis: Kryptonians have exhibited habits analogous to Earth-based fungal growth habits (reproductive and communal). Traits appear to be based on environmental factors (climatic conditions, food availability, cross species interactions, etc.), and can be pinpointed to certain specific fungal species.

It is to be noted that characteristics of multiple related or non-related fungi appear commonly in their species. Morphological differences within each community emerge from genetic mutations and extensive species isolation to their respective biome conditions.

Addressed topics: Anatomical and ethological topics to be covered as follows -

Organ systems (A) [Common features]

Morphological differences in isolated communities (A) [Biome-based classification]

Mode of nutrition and dietary habits (A)

Pathogenic resistance (A)

Cross-community interactions (C)

Parent-offspring relationships (C)

Heirarchal structures and Socio-politics (C)

Topic 1: Organ systems:

General overview of anatomy -

Kryptonians appear to share some morphological characteristics with humans and other alien species, specifically their neural network being largely concentrated in the head (cranium) and a similar facial structure. Studies have shown that the number of neural connections in the brain of an adult Kryptonian far surpasses the number of connections in a human adult (there are approx. 142 billion neurons in a Kryptonian brain as compared to the approx. 86 billion of a human). These connections appear to be heavily interlinked with each other, often overlapping and forming multiple associations (perhaps this explains their extraordinary memory). The synaptic plasticity of the Kryptonian brain is high, forming new connections and strengthening itself constantly.

For as advanced as the brain of a Kryptonian is, their body anatomy is much simpler and way more different than expected.

Respiratory system:

Kryptonians appear to not have a complex respiratory network, instead possessing something similar to amphibians and mushrooms.

The atmospheric composition of Krypton is found to largely be nitrogen [89%] followed by oxygen [10%] and other gases (Carbon dioxide, noble gases, water vapour, etc,.) [1%]. Kryptonian bodies appear to be aerobic, breathing mainly through thin layers of porous and delicate skin. The epidermis consists of a few tough, highly porous outer layers that protect the body from physical damage and thin inner layers capable of filtering impurities and unneeded molecules from the air taken in by the Kryptonian. The inner layers directly filter into their version of a circulatory system via diffusion.

The inner layers of skin are highly folded over one another to increase surface area for absorption, resembling the gills of a mushroom.

Considering the lack of a respiratory organ like the lung of a human, the presence of structures similar to nostrils on the ‘face’ of a Kryptonian stumps researchers. Some suggest a more direct and concentrated oxygen source to the neural network [the ‘nostrils’ are lined with multiple heavily folded layers of ‘gills’, twice more than other areas of the body], and it is the most accepted hypothesis.

(Case 1; Subject Kal-El:

- In the presence of a yellow sun [radiation], a Kryptonian's skin becomes impervious to physical damage and regenerates at a speed quadruple the original. Conversely, in the presence of Green Kryptonite [radioactive mineral - mainly emitting beta- and gamma-radiation; Kryptonian origin], the same skin deteriorates, losing its integrity and becoming weaker. Additionally, different variants of the Kryptonite seem to affect the skin differently. Further studies into these effects to be done.

- Krypton's atmospheric oxygen levels are very low when compared to that of Earth, which points to Kryptonians not being as dependent on oxygen as a human and/or possessing an extremely efficient respiratory system and cells that utilize the least oxygen possible. Upon analysis, Kal-El exhibits a higher reading of dissolved oxygen in the blood than strictly necessary. The effects of increased oxygen levels to be studied: potential for oxygen poisoning? Is the increased regeneration provided by the yellow sun responsible for uninterrupted life?)

Circulatory system:

Kryptonians lack complex networks of vessels that carry 'blood' to their cells; they lack a lymphocytic system all together. Their plasma-like fluid [water based, carrying proteins, hormones, enzymes, etc,.] flows freely into the coelom (i,e., fluid-filled body cavity) carrying dissolved oxygen and nutrients. This 'blood' lacks blood cells and platelets, distributing oxygen via wide-spread diffusion instead.

Despite lacking hemoglobin, Kryptonian blood appears red in colour due to the presence of a pigment atromentin [IUPAC name: (2,5-dihydroxy-3,6-bis(4-hydroxyphenyl)-1,4-benzoquinone)], a naturally occurring organic molecule found in Agaricomycetes fungi in the orders Agaricales and Thelephorales . It possesses properties similar to heparin, an anticoagulant used in medical practises.

Young Kryptonians show a bright red pigment while older Kryptonians show a duller, muted red. The corelation to their health is so far unknown.

Digestive system:

Kryptonians do not have a complex multi-organ system for digestion. Instead, they possess one dense, oddly crystalline organ in their torso that directly connects to their mouths via an oesophagus-like structure. This organ [now named 'The Core' for aesthetic purposes; the junior researchers were enthusiastic in naming it as such] contains highly destructive enzymes that are capable of digesting a vast array of materials harmful to other organisms with ease. Subject Kal-El has eaten various materials, including and not limited to: rocks, metal, uncooked meat, overcooked meat, radioactive materials (uranium, caesium), magma, etc,.

Each subspecies of Kryptonians exhibit different dietary habits based on their biomes and specific adaptations, which will be separately explored later on.

The core has separate sections that target specific nutrients, breaking them down and absorbing them, filtering directly into the circulatory system to be transported to the cells. The Kryptonian digestive system is very effective, producing very little in terms of food waste. The waste is transported to an organ analogous to the large intestine in function [aptly named the Intestine] and is excreted via an anal opening.

Kryptonians also seem to not produce nitrogen-based waste (ammonia, urea and uric acid), instead using them for growth and metabolism. They utilize specialized cells for nitrogen fixation, recycling the nitrogen compounds into compounds useful for the body. Whatever meagre amounts are left out are transported to the intestine and excreted with the food waste.

Nervous system:

Kryptonian bodies have a well developed nervous system, consisting of specialized nerve cells that react to stimulus and pain. The receptors for pain appear to be less sensitive than those of a human, pointing towards a different pain threshold for the species.

The Central Nervous system is analogous to the human CNS, perhaps even more advanced. The Peripheral Nervous system is widespread and lightning quick, allowing for extremely fast reflexes, extreme control of bodily functions and heightened senses for survival.

(Case 2; Subject Kal-El: The presence of the yellow sun's radiation appears to have enhanced the Nervous system of the subject, increasing his senses to levels much much higher than animal life on earth, along with seemingly unrelated abilities that do not necessarily tie into general bodily functions i,e., 'lazer' vision, flight, etc,. The effects are to be studied further. To determine if there is a preceding condition to awaken such abilities.)

Skeletal (and Muscular) system:

The Kryptonian skeletal system is largely made up of cells with high depositions of calcium in them. These cells do not replicate, nor do they grow. They are functionally dead, similar to the nails and hair of a human.

The skeletal system of a Kryptonian appears to be analogous to a human, with a formed cranium, a dorsal spine, a formed ribcage, a pelvic girdle, etc,. These 'bones' form joints and are connected by mycelium-like cells analogous to muscles.

Curiously, their skeletal system seems to have some amount of caesium and its isotope in the structure. The essential nature of caesium in the Kryptonian anatomy is a debated topic amongst researchers till date.

Endocrine system:

The Kryptonian endocrine system consists of multiple specialized cell clusters forming 'glands'. These glands secrete hormones directly into the circulatory system.

Since the circulatory system is open, specific cells have signalling systems for different hormones (Ex: reproductive hormones acting specifically on the reproductive system; growth factors influencing every cell in the body).

The endocrine system consists of glands that produce growth factors [compounds similar in structure and function to plant hormones], reproductive hormones, response hormones [adrenaline, noradrenaline, etc,.], mood affecting hormones, and insulin, glucagon and somatostatin [hormones produced by the pancreas; regulate blood sugar levels].

Reproductive system:

The reproductive habits of Kryptonians are interesting: they are capable of both sexual and asexual reproduction [parthenogenesis] based on the conditions.

Generally, there exists a sexual dimorphism between the sexes; differing gametes and reproductive organs. However, some subspecies of Kryptonians do not exhibit sexual dimorphism amongst themselves ( a topic that will be explored later in detail with regards to the subspecies).

Kryptonian reproductive habits are closely linked to their social conventions as well. Unions between different subspecies has been encouraged to promote genetic diversity and combat the isolation of each subspecies (more in Topics 5 through 7).

Next Section ->

Aight Fungi!Kryptonians are stuck in brain (thank you circus you know who you are) and I’ve delved too deep into the trenches now I’ve got ThoughtsTM and they aren’t leaving we gotta write. This took wayyyyyy too long to put together and I am not satisfied with the level of detail on some of these sections, maybe I'll revist them if people ask about it. I had to make a whole naming convention for this 💀 maybe I'll compile that sometime

Anyways this is just a silly au I made up, it is fantasy through and through, I am simply using fungi as a base for this specific iteration of kryptonian biology :3 please don't come at me for accuracy.

Reference fungi used:

Bleeding Tooth Fungus [Hydnellum peckii] - Atromentin pigment for red blood

Image sources: Wikipedia, ScienceDirect.com

@skylariumrose @murmeloni thank you for your help in the making of this monstrosity :3 yall and Beef and Nomer are the circus

@cheriecelestial :3 it's here

#🍄#kryptofungi au #fungi!kryptonians #superman #clark kent #kal el #dc #dcu #supergirl #kara zor el #kon el #superboy #kryptonian #hi superman fandom ig?#spent way too long on this

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doperthanabitch · 3 months ago

Text

lovely~ chapter 1.

[jason todd x reader]

series masterlist

───୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ──୨ৎ────

⋆˙⟡ summary: After waking from a coma caused by a severe head injury, you struggle to piece together the fragments of your lost memories—all while being thrust into the role of CEO of your late father’s multi-billion dollar empire. As you fight to regain control of your life, the powerful owner of a closely tied company—and his family—begin to weave themselves into your world, blurring the lines between business and something far more personal. Meanwhile, Gotham’s streets whisper of a new vigilante, one whose relentless gaze seems fixed on you. But are they a protector, a threat, or a link to the past you can’t remember?

⋆˙⟡warnings/tropes: childhood friends to strangers to lovers, angst, death, smut (maybe), slow burn, miscommunication, mentions of torture, mental health, abuse, trauma, amnesia

wc: 1.3k

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 3:20 lovely-billie eilish (ft. khalid)

⸻

You wake up to the sound of rain against glass.

Soft at first—a distant tapping that builds, growing louder as the city beyond the windows comes into focus. Gotham, sprawling and endless, glows beneath the storm, its skyline distorted by the water streaking down the glass.

Your head aches—a deep, pulsing throb at the base of your skull—but it’s nothing compared to the hollow, gnawing emptiness in your mind.

Something is wrong.

The sheets beneath you are soft, expensive. The scent of lavender clings to the air, subtle yet unnatural. You shift, and even that small movement sends a dull ache rolling through your limbs, stiff and unfamiliar. The weight of the blanket is heavy against you, and the room—large, modern, yet cold—feels both too empty and too curated, like a museum exhibit you don’t belong in.

You don’t recognize this place.

You don’t recognize yourself.

A presence.

You feel it before you see it. Something shifting at the edge of your vision, a flicker of movement. Your body tenses before you fully process why, muscles coiling like instinct is overriding thought.

A woman sits in the chair near the window, legs crossed, watching you. Late forties, maybe early fifties. Dark hair pulled into a sleek bun, a simple black dress beneath a crisp apron. A maid uniform.

She doesn’t look startled that you’re awake. If anything, there’s patience in the way she regards you, like she’s been waiting.

Her voice, when she speaks, is smooth, thick with a Russian accent. “You’re finally up.”

Your throat is dry when you respond, voice rough. “Where am I?”

Her expression doesn’t shift, but something in her gaze softens, just a little. “Home, my darling.”

The word catches in your mind. Home.

It doesn’t feel like home.

You force yourself upright, wincing as pain spikes through your skull. The movement leaves you dizzy, vision swimming, and for a moment, you have to steady yourself with a sharp inhale.

Katya—because suddenly, you know her name, though you don’t remember how—watches you carefully, but she doesn’t move to help. She lets you find your bearings first, lets you sit in the discomfort of your own body.

“You were in a coma,” she tells you after a beat. “There was an accident. You suffered a traumatic brain injury, significant memory loss.” A pause. “Do you remember anything?”

Your pulse quickens.

Do you?

There are fragments. The warmth of someone’s hand against yours. A woman’s voice humming softly. The scent of perfume, floral and familiar, though you can’t name it. Then—hospitals, machines, darkness.

But the time between? The context?

Nothing.

The realization leaves a strange hollowness in your chest, an absence where something vital should be.

“No,” you admit. Your voice is barely more than a breath.

Katya sighs, as if she expected that answer but still hoped for something else. She reaches for a folder on the table beside her and places it in your lap.

“I am sorry to bring this to you so soon, but you must know… your father is dead.”

The words are blunt, without ceremony.

You stare at her.

Dead.

The word feels foreign in your mind, like something in another language, something you should understand but don’t.

“He passed while you were unconscious,” she continues. “The funeral was last month.”

Something tightens in your chest. Not grief. Not really. It’s more like… an absence. A feeling that you should be mourning, but there’s nothing there. No memories to mourn.

Had you spoken to him before the accident? Had he cared?

The answer comes to you instinctively, without memory, without proof—but you know.

Probably not.

Katya’s voice doesn’t waver. “His company is now yours. You are expected to return to work soon. There has been… pressure from the board. And from certain outside parties.”

You flip open the folder.

Documents. Company records. Financial statements. Your name, printed beneath the title CEO.

It doesn’t feel real.

“I don’t even remember how to run a company,” you say, barely above a whisper.

“You will learn.” Katya says it simply, like it’s inevitable. Like it doesn’t matter whether you want to or not.

The rain beats steady against the glass, the only sound filling the empty space between you.

“There is… another matter,” she says carefully.

You lift a brow. “What now?”

“The Waynes.”

Something flickers at the edge of your mind. Recognition, but without clarity. A word without meaning.

“You will start seeing more involvement from them,” she explains. “I don’t know the extent of it, but—” she gestures to the folder. “One of your father’s advisors is coming by today to collect some documents. They will explain more.”

You glance back down at the papers. And that’s when you see it—scrawled across meeting notes, flagged in legal documents. Wayne Enterprises.

Your pulse stutters.

Their name is everywhere.

Transactions. Partnerships. Business dealings that don’t make sense. Money being funneled through different subsidiaries, obscured behind layers of shell corporations. It’s too much to process, too tangled, but even in your haze, one thing is clear.

This isn’t clean.

Your father’s empire wasn’t built on legitimate deals and corporate power plays. There was something else. Something darker.

A chill crawls up your spine.

Katya’s voice pulls you back. “Would you like something to eat? Or tea?”

You almost refuse, but then your stomach twists painfully, and you realize you can’t remember the last time you ate.

“Tea,” you say, your voice rough. “And something light.”

She nods. “I will have something brought up.”

You barely notice her leave. The moment the door clicks shut behind her, the weight of everything settles over you again, suffocating and heavy.

Your fingers tighten around the folder.

Wayne.

Why are they so deeply entangled in your father’s company? What exactly were they involved in?

You push the documents aside and stare out at the rain-streaked glass. The city sprawls beneath you, drenched in stormlight.

And then, for the second time since waking up, you feel it.

A presence.

Your eyes snap toward the window, a cold weight sinking in your gut. But there’s nothing there. Just Gotham stretching into the distance, blurred by the storm.

Still, the feeling lingers.

Someone was watching.

And for the first time since waking up, you realize—

You’re not just trying to remember your past.

You’re trying to survive it.

⸻

a/n: hi everyone, really hope you enjoyed the first chapter! this is my first time writing a fanfic i’m willing to post so bear with me :). If you have any suggestions or ideas my inbox is always open, and please feel free to give me constructive criticism so i can improve the fic for you guys💕

#jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #batfam angst #dick grayson #slow burn #jason todd needs a hug #amnesia #angst #batman #jason todd is red hood #tim drake #damian wayne #smut #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd

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oomox-oclock · 5 months ago

Text

✮ Mr. Bad Guy ✮

✮ Chapter 1: Time

Other chapters

A/n: My own personal head canons are added <3 sorry if it’s HORRENDOUS. Also I know he’s evil and blah blah IT WILL GET THERE this is just the first chapter muehehehe

It’s the recent year, 2025, you’ve just had quiet a hectic first week and bit of the new year. Luckily your safe space is always open for you to dive into when you needed to relax. It’s a large wood right outside behind your house, and when the clock struck home time you immediately made your way into the tranquil nature. Stepping under the canopy and into the stillness was always a soothing balm to the soul, it was even better that most of the trees were evergreen trees so even in the winter it didn’t look dead and miserable. Walking deeper into the wood to find a place to just sit, relax and read in your own little world, until hearing sound that didn’t sound natural. A zap, a spark of some kind. Little did you know there were aliens just a few feet away, invisible from the human eye by their advanced technology. They’ve been surveying the planet since the 1950’s, unbeknownst to everyone else or the fact that Velcro was actually their creation, but I digress. Unfortunately for them, they have to do maintenance once in a while, and a there’s a small chance an unknowing human might stumble upon them. As you walk closer to the sound, your image is hidden behind the trees as you stalked closer. The deflected image that hides the alien flickers. Your heart nearly stops when you see a glimpse of an unnaturally pointed ear. ‘Your brain is fucking with you, your brain is fucking with you calm down’ You repeat the mantra in your mind as you squeeze your eyes shut for a second. You swear it’s the stress getting to you, so you lean your hand and yourself on a tree. A fizz like a lightning bolt travels through your bloodstream when you make contact. The tree you touched, was not a tree at all, but one of the disguised deflector amplifiers that was, at that moment, being repaired and a quote on quote ‘live wire’. However, you didn’t know that. What you were feeling was your body being transported to another timeline. Literally. Your soul stretched across the cosmos at superlight speeds. A tunnel of light going past your eyes, you feel slower, and lightheaded as you forget to breathe during the experience.

Whiplash hits you like a mother fucker when you got magically slingshot into the future. You take in a big gasp of air as you’re on solid ground. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Your eyes shut as you’re sat with your back against cool metal. Back down to Earth… Barely. You’re disorientated like you just got hit by a freight train, low iron dizziness has nothing on this. You slowly rub your hands over your face, the cold metal on your back easing the lava hot nerves and calming your body. Wait- down to Earth- This isn’t Earth! Your eyes shoot open, your breath catching in your chest again in panic. Looking around, it seems like you’re in a metal… box? There’s screens and panels on the walls, and consoles with chairs. Writing with the word ‘Starfleet’ is mentioned a few times on the screen and painted in a sleek fine print red on the wall. ‘Am I in a fucking spaceship or an amusement park…’ You think to yourself as you stand up slowly. Holding your forehead as your head spins and throbs in a dull pain. But you stabilise and walk to the right of you, seeing what looks like a cockpit. Clunky chairs, flat screens like a big ipad that got turned into a table. There’s no one there, the only sound a soft whirring hum of machinery. Like white noise, but nothing is very calming at this moment. Your hand rests on one of the bulky chairs, there’s no roller-coaster straps and restraints so maybe not an amusement park… maybe an exhibit? Still doesn’t answer half the billion questions running through your mind on how you got here. You look up from the consoles, windows, but shutters over them. “There should be a button to open them and see where the hell am I…?” You breathe softly to yourself trying not to let yourself panic. It’s some sick prank, you’re sure of it. You look down the light filled console, uh… this one that says open shutters maybe? You press the button. Clank, clank, clank, they fold up, you’re now faced with black, white dotted vast endlessness void of space. Placing your hand to the glass, it’s freezing cold, you pull away. Okay. Now time to panic. Hurtling yourself backwards, nearly stumbling and falling, your breathing ad heart rate spikes, it feels like everything is spinning. Crouching down to the floor, your head in your hands, trying to make sense of this. “It’s just a dream… please be just a dream…” You mutter to yourself. This doesn’t feel real, it can’t be. The actual reality and physics of this situation hasn’t hit you yet, but the gnawing gut feeling of worry and panic is taking over a large part of your senses till you physically can’t think. It’s absolutely terrifying

You don’t know how much time has passed, you’re one wave short of a shipwreck in terms of mental breakdown. But a loud blare like beep and a flashing red light from one of the consoles. You get up, not bothering to wipe the few tears that you didn’t even notice fell down your face. One step at a time. That’s all your mind can muster. A stagger to the cockpit chair, you look out the window, it’s still spacey. The shipped must have been moving this whole time because the starts have changed, not that you counted every star, but it seems… different. Your attention back to the flickering light and beeping noise. ‘Hail on visual’ The panel says with a few slightly confusing buttons to press. The green one should automatically mean ‘accept’ right…? ‘Maybe someone can help me!’ You think to yourself in a small triumph. You press the button, and there to greet you on a screen on the wall… A scally lizard alien. You stumble back into the chair in shock. The man, well you assume (sorry woke people). His skin a scratchy grey, his whole neckline exposed showing the scaled skin and ridges protruding. It’s almost artistic. There are scaley bumps on his face too, not in a sickly way; more in a way that smooth pebbles are inspiringly placed in a zen garden. It sits around his eyes and over where his eyebrows would be if he was human. More pebble like ridges form up his forehead to his hairline which is then met with his sleek back black hair. In the middle of his forehead a protruding spoon shape. “Starfleet shuttle pod, this is Gul Dukat. Identify yourself, and you better give a good explanation as to why, you are in Cardassian space.” The alien spoke in a serious and slightly irritated tone. You’re completely at a loss for words, your mouth moves but nothing comes out, you’re shit scared. This has to be a joke, but those scales seem a bit too real. The man waits for a reply, the grey-blue eyes piercing through the screen, his hands are clasped in his lap. His eye twitches. “Well? Are you going to answer? Or do we have to drive you out by force?” He says threateningly, now leaning forward in his chair. That makes your vocal cords snap out a sound. “I don’t know how-!” You manage to say, having no idea what kind of ‘force’ he means, for all you know he could incinerate you in a blink of an eye. “You don’t know how?” He laughs mockingly “Oh the federation is really pulling out all the stops with you hm? Are you telling me you got on a Starfleet ship, and just ‘found’ yourself in our space. Please, you can do much better than that.” He gives a playful scoff which still has a harsh tinge of a domineering tone. He leans back in his chair now having a bit of fun with you and your reactions. “I’m serious- I don’t know how I got here- how I got on this… thing! Or whatever the hell you are- some kind of dinosaur.” You say, trying to convince him and going off on a tiny tangent about him and the situation. His Cardassian pride flares protectively. “Ha! We are not anyway remotely related to your Prehistoric Earth creatures…” He laughs, though a semi disdainful emphasis on the words ‘Earth’ and ‘creatures. “And what do you mean you don’t know what a Cardassian is? Have you been living under a rock? Or are your lies just so terrible?” He grins cynically with another jab and mock laughter, he’s thoroughly enjoying this interaction. “I’m serious!” You plead, your brain crashing out under the stress and pressure of this confusing ordeal.

There’s a pause. Dukat straightens up a bit at the emotional response, his demeanour softening a bit. “I don’t… I don’t know where I am… I don’t know how I got here… I don’t even- what god damn year is it?” Unwillingly a tear falls, your body is all worked up and pent up and needed a release of some kind and you can’t stop it. Luckily your breath isn’t hitching or cracking, and your eyes aren’t a puffy red. “You seriously don’t know you’re in the twenty-fourth century…?” His voice softens sincerely, so do his eyes, the slit pupils dilating slightly to a rounder shape. “No wonder you are dressed like that.” He adds as his eyes scan you from his screen. Though, your head is trying to wrap around the words ‘twenty-fourth century’ for the three hundredth and sixty-fifth time your brain short circuits, it’s lucky you’re in a chair already. Otherwise, you would have passed out on the floor from shock. But you’re still hanging on to consciousness. “I’m in the future…” You say softly to yourself. “I’ll tell you what…” Dukat speaks, taking you out of your disassociated state. You didn’t notice he was yapping the whole time about how different you look compared to current humans and all that. “Not that I fully trust you, but you make a convincing case. How about you come aboard my ship, and we can solve this dilemma of yours, or at least ease it. And I don’t see anyone around coming to your aid… space is pretty vast…” He says with a sly smirk and a smooth voice. It’s quite addictive. You won’t lie to yourself; you don’t fully trust him either… but you see no other alternative. “I… okay.” You swallow, your emotions still taking a toll on you. His grin widens and his eyes glint. His hands clap and clasp together. “Perfect, lower your shields, I will beam you over.” He says with a cocky triumph. “Uhm… how do I do that…?” You ask. Dukat sighs “Oh yes, right, how could I forget.” He gently pinched the bridge of his nose to concentrate on how to give out instructions. “On one of the consoles there is probably a button that says, ‘defensive mechanisms’ or something along those lines.” He says, a bit like an impatient child not wanting to do menial tasks. That’s probably why he was so excited to have you come aboard, everyday work gets tedious and tiresome. You are a new adventure. “Okay I pressed it…” You say, “Very good, now there should be a shield status button as well.” He says with a sweet tint. You successfully lower the shields with little instruction. “Excellent, now I will beam you over.” “Beam-? What do you mean-…”

You get transported over to his ship. Your eyes squeeze shut and hold onto the closest thing near you to bite down the nausea, getting your atoms rearranged is not a very pleasant feeling. After a few moments your stomach calmed down you gave an exhale. You don’t even know what you held onto. You open your eyes, look at your hand, seeing it wrapped around a black sleek padded armour arm, trailing up and up. You’re face to face with the alien that called himself; ‘Gul Dukat’. He’s much, much taller than on the viewscreen. Not a normal above average human height. This was intimidating, no quiet terrifying, you had to crane your neck to look up at him. He smiles down with a wicked smile showing sharp canines, you realise you’re still holding onto him, and you let go. He’s eating up that slight fumble, but he doesn’t say anything about it. “Now… before I help you… I need to verify your story. Come with me…” He gently leads you down a corridor of his ship, everything is slick and simplistic. The lights are slightly dimmer, and the temperature is warmer than the other small shuttle craft you were on. “What’s your name?” He asks as he leads you, his hand by your lower back, he’s not touching you, but you can still fell his presence. You tell him your name and shoots a small smile. “Hm. Quite an old human name.” He says, he silently motions for one of his crew members to make note of the name and run it through a database. You swallow trying to not make this awkward, but it’s hard when you’re talking to a damn alien. “So… Gul Dukat? Is Gul your first name or?” You ask, and he gives a soft laugh. “Oh, no, no, no, ‘Gul’ is my rank. See I’m in the Cardassian Military. ‘Dukat’ is my last name, you may call me that.” He says. “Ah… okay, Cardassian, that’s your species?” You follow up and Dukat nods. You try not to snort every time he says Cardassian because the first thing your mind goes to is the ‘Kardashians’. None of this feels real, one moment you feel on the edge of an existential crisis, the next you dissociate and everything feels light and dreamy. Right now you feel a bit more grounded, but the seriousness of the situation hasn’t resurfaced yet. (You’re a bit too busy looking at the alien next to you and the other aliens like him walking past in the corridors.)

He stops you by a door, it hisses open, sliding into the wall of the doorframe. “This is the infirmary, we’ll just run a few simple tests to verify your theory…” He steps to the side and gestures for you to go in with that same smirk on his face. You step over the threshold, the Cardassian doctor looks at you confused, but then sees Dukat and straightens up. “Get the quantum scanner out doctor and check her for any temporal anomalies.” Dukat says, the doctor doesn’t question it and follows his order, going to another room to retrieve the items. You go up to one of the bio beds and Dukat gestures for you to sit, and you have to jump to get on the bed. “Are all of you ginormous?” You puff out as you get on the bed, obviously accommodated for their anatomy. Dukat gives a hearty laugh, his head tilting back, a subtle innuendo in his next words. “I suppose compared to you Humans; we are quite large. But you make up your height with your big personalities.” He tilts his head to the side as he speaks, his hands intertwined together in front of him. The doctor comes back, you look at the instruments he has put on the tray, it all looks like sci-fi doohickies to you, but you digress. “Don’t worry these will not hurt.” Dukat assures you patting your shoulder with his large hand. You look down to his hand and notice he has black talons for nails. He’s resembling a lizard more and more with every attribute. The doctor begins scanning you and you sit still, trying not to think about your predicament too much otherwise your brain might explode. Meanwhile, Dukat is standing slightly away, just a bit out of hearing range. One of his crew come up to him, whispering in his ear so not to be heard by others. “They could be a spy, we need to throw them in the brig and force the truth out of them.” The Cardassian says. Dukat gives him a stern glare, his head whipping to look the crew member in the eye. “I will not have them be tortured. I command this ship. I will treat guests how I see fit. Besides, if they were a spy they would not make ‘time travel’ their persona. It’s a weak argument.” Dukat looks back to you, watching as the doctor takes tests and scans you, having to bring some science officers in to look at the readings. “And if the Obsidian Order find out about your ‘guest’ sir?” The man speaks again, and Dukat gives out a slightly irritated grovel. “They won’t be able to do anything, if their case is real, this human knows nothing of Starfleet or the Federation. They are but a piece of clay to be moulded. If they are a spy then the Obsidian Order can do as they wish.” Dukat cocks his head up, crossing his arms, with slight arrogance. Silently hinting for his subordinate to leave, and he does. Looking back to you, Dukat whispers to no one but himself. “And they intrigue me… I’d like to keep them for a bit…” A smile creeps on his face, finding himself amusing.

An hour or so goes by, the doctor calls Dukat over to his medical screen, pointing to one of the diagrams that was formulated by inserting your DNA. “So? What does it mean? I’m not the scientist here.” Dukat peers over the screen. “This is a Human sample that we have from today, and this is that Humans’ sample. This shift clearly indicates they are supposedly 300 years behind.” (Guys I’m making shit up bear with me). “300 years… so they definitely have no clue about any galactical politics or anything… never seen an ‘alien’ before. Hm. Good job doctor.” Dukat says with a pleased nod. “And I took the liberty of updating their body with the vaccines they have to catch up on. Though they will have to see me through the week for more.” The doctor says. “Ah, very good, this is why you are the ships best doctor, doctor.” Dukat gives him a pat on the back. Dukat turns to walk back to where you are on the bio bed, very chuffed with this new thrilling experience that he can mould a human to his liking and hopefully gain someone meaningful out of it. He deserves a friend, he tells himself. Though he turns his head, “And Doctor, tell Temporal Affairs nothing.” He warns, quickly walking back to you where you sit, unbeknownst to their conversation. You were also in your own little world, everything was happening so fast, but to you it seemed everything was slow, but nothing was adjusting just right. “Ah, there we are…” Dukat speaks, you look up at him. It’s still very strange to be faced to face with an alien, it gives a little jump to your nerves whenever you see someone not human walking by. “Lucky for you, you aren’t a spy. Just, unfortunately miss placed in time.” He says with grin, holding his hand out to help you down the tall bio bed. You place your hand in his, his hand is cool to the touch, scaly and hard, but with a certain squishy quality to it, it’s not rock solid. Dukat supresses a small shiver as your warm-blooded skin with his cooler skin. It’s very pleasant. (HEAT SEEKING WHORE). “I’ll escort you to your quarters and get you into more… modern clothes.” He chuckles at his own joke, and you give a weak smile and a nod, your body drained from the experience.

Later, you made it to your assigned quarters, courtesy of your new alien friend that saved you. He’s been quite kind, he has a very commanding presence, and there’s a narcissist hid in there, but everything has gone smoothly all things considered. He’s being gentle with you. Back to your room, it’s simple and minimalist, a bit harsh but you can’t complain, even if the bed is as stiff and hard as a brick. The clothes you were given are quite comfortable, and ashy cream colour, cotton pyjamas as you request to take a nap. Dukat left your quarters after checking everything was okay and yapped the whole time to you, well mainly to himself, while you were getting dressed in the bathroom. You didn’t really mind, he has a nice voice, and it was better than hearing your own dreadful thoughts. You flopped onto the bed, bad idea, but with a pained groan your shimmed on the bed to lay down. The room is dark, your quarters don’t have windows, thank God because if you registered you were in out of space again, your body might just reject itself. Though your body and brain are bit too tired, so you quickly doze and fall asleep, not thinking of anything. An hour, two, three. You jolt awake with a gasp. ‘A stupid time travel dream…’ You think to yourself as you wipe your ears, though when you look around the room you blood turns cold and your heart stops. It was real. You’re not home on Earth, you’re not even on a planet, you’ve technically outlived all friends and family, the rest of your life that you were supposed to live is gone, wasted, you never go to experience it. And now you’re horribly alone, it’s almost like a suffocating coldness. Being alone in a house is tolerable, being alone in a country is daunting, being alone on a planet is worse, but being alone in an entire galaxy is utterly impossible to endure. You try focus on your breathing, but the hard bed underneath you and weirdly triangular shaped pillows remind your senses that you’re not home anymore.

There was only one person to go to for at least some kind of comfort. Gul Dukat. The only person that you’ve actually come in contact within this time, he took you on his ship, gave you hospitality, clothes and food. He seems kind enough. You make your way out the quarters, not really knowing where his are, but if you’re staying in this time, then you have a lot of time on your hands to find it. You trail through the endless maze of corridors, then your arm gets a harsh tug, someone’s talons nearly impaling into the flesh of your skin. “Hey-“You protest. “What are you doing out of your quarters? You’re not a crew member abroad this ship. You’re a guest. Gul Dukat will be hearing about this disrespect.” A Cardassian basically drags you to Dukat’s quarters. At least you’re getting where you wanted. But this man handling is not it. Arriving by his door, the man that dragged you presses the chime. A few moments, the door hisses open, revealing Dukat, in a silk black robe and shorts that stop above his knee in the same fabric. His torso exposed; he has a smaller spoon shape in the middle of his chest. “Yes? What is it- oh Hello.” His voice and demeanour changes from uninterested to soft and inviting when seeing you. The man that dragged you here basically tossed you into the room. “This human was wandering the corridors I came to report-“ He gets cut off by Dukats deadly stare after he sees how his crew member handled you. Dukat gives you a quick pat on the shoulder of reassurance that you did nothing wrong and steps out into the corridor, the door hissing shut, leaving you inside. Meanwhile outside… “You fool! You do not go treating one of my guests like that. Are you trying to heighten the stigma that we are a heartless, cruel people like the Bajorans think we are? Don’t ever, go touching them like that. Understood?” Dukat spits. “Yes-… yes sir…” He backs off. “Good. Dismissed.” Dukat gives an annoyed sigh, muttering a few curse words in Cardassian before joinging you inside.

“Apologies for that. We all have bad workdays… Did he hurt you?” Dukat steps closer to you, with a concerned tone, you can’t tell if it’s fake or not by that little lilt in his voice, but his face seems sincere. “No, I’m fine. There’s no scratch or blood.” You respond. “Good, good… What were you doing out of your quarters? This is still a military ship dear. Not the safest for a human like you to be wandering around.” He gently grazes your upper arm, crouching slightly to your human level. “I was looking for your quarters.” You admit to him, although a bit embarrassingly. “Ah, you seem distressed, is this situation getting to you…?” He asks and you give a nod. “Not to worry, I pride myself in how well I can comfort people and make them feel happy and content.” He gives a smile, enthusiastically taking up the task to make you feel better. “Now go sit down on the couch, I’ll make us some tea and we discuss all about what’s going on in the head of yours.” He says, going to his replicator. He showed you how to use the one in your quarters earlier, you passed on it because you were too tired and didn’t really want to ingest ‘synthetic food’. But it’s a galactic staple, you’d have to get used to it. He orders two cups of tea and walks over to where you’re sitting on the couch, handing you a cup and sitting on the next cushion. The couches are surprisingly not that uncomfortable, or it might just be his own personal furniture that makes the difference. “Red leaf tea. An Earth tea, to help you a bit.” He says as he sips his own cup. “Ah, we call it, well used to call it red bush, not red leaf.” You say as you blow on the liquid. (This is a rooibos tea advert). “Suppose it got lost in translation then.” He says with an interested tone.

The night goes on, you first spill a few hundred questions about humans nowadays, he bends the truth here and there but no lying of any sort. For him, this was lovely, having someone genuinely interested in talking to him, no lingering hatred underneath, or fake politeness that he gets from the crew. It’s euphoric, and ego boosting for him. It also makes his icy Cardassian heart soften. After feeling comfortable with talking to him, the floodgates let loose. Your fears, your confusion, the amount of loneliness you feel, how nothing seems real. When it got a bit too emotional, he gives you a gently hug, his huge slender frame, absorbing your warmth as his cool scales calm your firing nerves. His hand softly caressing your hair.

“I will help you and take care of everything dear…”

A/n: for give me it was dogshit <3

#Spotify #star trek #star trek ds9 #star trek deep space nine #deep space nine #ds9 #gul dukat #dukat #ds9 dukat #skrain dukat #dukat x reader #gul dukat x reader #dukat is the kindest person until things dont go his way

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therewillbenoromance · 3 months ago

Note

A major geologic process that has affected the Moon's surface is impact cratering,[148] with craters formed when asteroids and comets collide with the lunar surface. There are estimated to be roughly 300,000 craters wider than 1 km (0.6 mi) on the Moon's near side.[149] Lunar craters exhibit a variety of forms, depending on their size. In order of increasing diameter, the basic types are simple craters with smooth bowl shaped interiors and upturned rims, complex craters with flat floors, terraced walls and central peaks, peak ring basins, and multi-ring basins with two or more concentric rings of peaks.[150] The vast majority of impact craters are circular, but some, like Cantor and Janssen, have more polygonal outlines, possibly guided by underlying faults and joints. Others, such as the Messier pair, Schiller, and Daniell, are elongated. Such elongation can result from highly oblique impacts, binary asteroid impacts, fragmentation of impactors before surface strike, or closely spaced secondary impacts.[151]

The lunar geologic timescale is based on the most prominent impact events, such as multi-ring formations like Nectaris, Imbrium, and Orientale that are between hundreds and thousands of kilometers in diameter and associated with a broad apron of ejecta deposits that form a regional stratigraphic horizon.[152] The lack of an atmosphere, weather, and recent geological processes mean that many of these craters are well-preserved. Although only a few multi-ring basins have been definitively dated, they are useful for assigning relative ages. Because impact craters accumulate at a nearly constant rate, counting the number of craters per unit area can be used to estimate the age of the surface.[152] However care needs to be exercised with the crater counting technique due to the potential presence of secondary craters. Ejecta from impacts can create secondary craters that often appear in clusters or chains but can also occur as isolated formations at a considerable distance from the impact. These can resemble primary craters, and may even dominate small crater populations, so their unidentified presence can distort age estimates.[153]

The radiometric ages of impact-melted rocks collected during the Apollo missions cluster between 3.8 and 4.1 billion years old: this has been used to propose a Late Heavy Bombardment period of increased impacts.[154]

High-resolution images from the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter in the 2010s show a contemporary crater-production rate significantly higher than was previously estimated. A secondary cratering process caused by distal ejecta is thought to churn the top two centimeters of regolith on a timescale of 81,000 years.[155][156] This rate is 100 times faster than the rate computed from models based solely on direct micrometeorite impacts.[157]

Lunar swirls

Main article: Lunar swirls

Wide-angle image of a lunar swirl, the 70-kilometer-long Reiner Gamma

Lunar swirls are enigmatic features found across the Moon's surface. They are characterized by a high albedo, appear optically immature (i.e. the optical characteristics of a relatively young regolith), and often have a sinuous shape. Their shape is often accentuated by low albedo regions that wind between the bright swirls. They are located in places with enhanced surface magnetic fields and many are located at the antipodal point of major impacts. Well known swirls include the Reiner Gamma feature and Mare Ingenii. They are hypothesized to be areas that have been partially shielded from the solar wind, resulting in slower space weathering.[158]

Presence of water

Main article: Lunar water

Liquid water cannot persist on the lunar surface. When exposed to solar radiation, water quickly decomposes through a process known as photodissociation and is lost to space. However, since the 1960s, scientists have hypothesized that water ice may be deposited by impacting comets or possibly produced by the reaction of oxygen-rich lunar rocks, and hydrogen from solar wind, leaving traces of water which could possibly persist in cold, permanently shadowed craters at either pole on the Moon.[159][160] Computer simulations suggest that up to 14,000 km2 (5,400 sq mi) of the surface may be in permanent shadow.[112] The presence of usable quantities of water on the Moon is an important factor in rendering lunar habitation as a cost-effective plan; the alternative of transporting water from Earth would be prohibitively expensive.[161]

In years since, signatures of water have been found to exist on the lunar surface.[162] In 1994, the bistatic radar experiment located on the Clementine spacecraft, indicated the existence of small, frozen pockets of water close to the surface. However, later radar observations by Arecibo, suggest these findings may rather be rocks ejected from young impact craters.[163] In 1998, the neutron spectrometer on the Lunar Prospector spacecraft showed that high concentrations of hydrogen are present in the first meter of depth in the regolith near the polar regions.[164] Volcanic lava beads, brought back to Earth aboard Apollo 15, showed small amounts of water in their interior.[165]

In 2008, NASA's Moon Mineralogy Mapper equipment on India's Chandrayaan-1 discovered, for the first time, water-rich minerals (shown in blue around a small crater from which they were ejected).

The 2008 Chandrayaan-1 spacecraft has since confirmed the existence of surface water ice, using the on-board Moon Mineralogy Mapper. The spectrometer observed absorption lines common to hydroxyl, in reflected sunlight, providing evidence of large quantities of water ice, on the lunar surface. The spacecraft showed that concentrations may possibly be as high as 1,000 ppm.[166] Using the mapper's reflectance spectra, indirect lighting of areas in shadow confirmed water ice within 20° latitude of both poles in 2018.[167] In 2009, LCROSS sent a 2,300 kg (5,100 lb) impactor into a permanently shadowed polar crater, and detected at least 100 kg (220 lb) of water in a plume of ejected material.[168][169] Another examination of the LCROSS data showed the amount of detected water to be closer to 155 ± 12 kg (342 ± 26 lb).[170]

In May 2011, 615–1410 ppm water in melt inclusions in lunar sample 74220 was reported,[171] the famous high-titanium "orange glass soil" of volcanic origin collected during the Apollo 17 mission in 1972. The inclusions were formed during explosive eruptions on the Moon approximately 3.7 billion years ago. This concentration is comparable with that of magma in Earth's upper mantle. Although of considerable selenological interest, this insight does not mean that water is easily available since the sample originated many kilometers below the surface, and the inclusions are so difficult to access that it took 39 years to find them with a state-of-the-art ion microprobe instrument.

Analysis of the findings of the Moon Mineralogy Mapper (M3) revealed in August 2018 for the first time "definitive evidence" for water-ice on the lunar surface.[172][173] The data revealed the distinct reflective signatures of water-ice, as opposed to dust and other reflective substances.[174] The ice deposits were found on the North and South poles, although it is more abundant in the South, where water is trapped in permanently shadowed craters and crevices, allowing it to persist as ice on the surface since they are shielded from the sun.[172][174]

In October 2020, astronomers reported detecting molecular water on the sunlit surface of the Moon by several independent spacecraft, including the Stratospheric Observatory for Infrared Astronomy (SOFIA).[175][176][177][178]

Orbit

Main articles: Orbit of the Moon, Lunar theory, Lunar orbit, and Cislunar space

A view of the rotating Earth and the far side of the Moon as the Moon passes on its orbit in between the observing DSCOVR satellite and Earth

The Earth and the Moon form the Earth–Moon satellite system with a shared center of mass, or barycenter. This barycenter is 1,700 km (1,100 mi) (about a quarter of Earth's radius) beneath the Earth's surface.

The Moon's orbit is slightly elliptical, with an orbital eccentricity of 0.055.[1] The semi-major axis of the geocentric lunar orbit, called the lunar distance, is approximately 400,000 km (250,000 miles or 1.28 light-seconds), comparable to going around Earth 9.5 times.[179]

The Moon makes a complete orbit around Earth with respect to the fixed stars, its sidereal period, about once every 27.3 days.[h] However, because the Earth–Moon system moves at the same time in its orbit around the Sun, it takes slightly longer, 29.5 days,[i][72] to return to the same lunar phase, completing a full cycle, as seen from Earth. This synodic period or synodic month is commonly known as the lunar month and is equal to the length of the solar day on the Moon.[180]

Due to tidal locking, the Moon has a 1:1 spin–orbit resonance. This rotation–orbit ratio makes the Moon's orbital periods around Earth equal to its corresponding rotation periods. This is the reason for only one side of the Moon, its so-called near side, being visible from Earth. That said, while the movement of the Moon is in resonance, it still is not without nuances such as libration, resulting in slightly changing perspectives, making over time and location on Earth about 59% of the Moon's surface visible from Earth.[181]

Unlike most satellites of other planets, the Moon's orbital plane is closer to the ecliptic plane than to the planet's equatorial plane. The Moon's orbit is subtly perturbed by the Sun and Earth in many small, complex and interacting ways. For example, the plane of the Moon's orbit gradually rotates once every 18.61 years,[182] which affects other aspects of lunar motion. These follow-on effects are mathematically described by Cassini's laws.[183]

Minimum, mean and maximum distances of the Moon from Earth with its angular diameter as seen from Earth's surface to scale

Tidal effects

Main articles: Tidal force, Tidal acceleration, Tide, and Theory of tides

Simplified diagram of Earth bulging, being pulled and streched toward the Moon by its gravity, which is the main driver of the tides. The Ocean and Earth are being pulled more where it is closer to the Moon, causing tidal forces to be weaker at the far-side of Earth creating a second bulge and high-tide. The animation shows the change of the Moon's position on its inclined orbit.

The gravitational attraction that Earth and the Moon (as well as the Sun) exert on each other manifests in a slightly greater attraction on the sides closest to each other, resulting in tidal forces. Ocean tides are the most widely experienced result of this, but tidal forces also considerably affect other mechanics of Earth, as well as the Moon and their system.

The lunar solid crust experiences tides of around 10 cm (4 in) amplitude over 27 days, with three components: a fixed one due to Earth, because they are in synchronous rotation, a variable tide due to orbital eccentricity and inclination, and a small varying component from the Sun.[184] The Earth-induced variable component arises from changing distance and libration, a result of the Moon's orbital eccentricity and inclination (if the Moon's orbit were perfectly circular and un-inclined, there would only be solar tides).[184] According to recent research, scientists suggest that the Moon's influence on the Earth may contribute to maintaining Earth's magnetic field.[185]

The cumulative effects of stress built up by these tidal forces produces moonquakes. Moonquakes are much less common and weaker than are earthquakes, although moonquakes can last for up to an hour – significantly longer than terrestrial quakes – because of scattering of the seismic vibrations in the dry fragmented upper crust. The existence of moonquakes was an unexpected discovery from seismometers placed on the Moon by Apollo astronauts from 1969 through 1972.[186]

The most commonly known effect of tidal forces is elevated sea levels called ocean tides.[187] While the Moon exerts most of the tidal forces, the Sun also exerts tidal forces and therefore contributes to the tides as much as 40% of the Moon's tidal force; producing in interplay the spring and neap tides.[187]

The tides are two bulges in the Earth's oceans, one on the side facing the Moon and the other on the side opposite. As the Earth rotates on its axis, one of the ocean bulges (high tide) is held in place "under" the Moon, while another such tide is opposite. The tide under the Moon is explained by the Moon's gravity being stronger on the water close to it. The tide on the opposite side can be explained either by the centrifugal force as the Earth orbits the barycenter or by the water's inertia as the Moon's gravity is stronger on the solid Earth close to it and it is pull away from the farther water.[188]

Thus, there are two high tides, and two low tides in about 24 hours.[187] Since the Moon is orbiting the Earth in the same direction of the Earth's rotation, the high tides occur about every 12 hours and 25 minutes; the 25 minutes is due to the Moon's time to orbit the Earth.

If the Earth were a water world (one with no continents) it would produce a tide of only one meter, and that tide would be very predictable, but the ocean tides are greatly modified by other effects:

the frictional coupling of water to Earth's rotation through the ocean floors

the inertia of water's movement

ocean basins that grow shallower near land

the sloshing of water between different ocean basins[189]

As a result, the timing of the tides at most points on the Earth is a product of observations that are explained, incidentally, by theory.

System evolution

Delays in the tidal peaks of both ocean and solid-body tides cause torque in opposition to the Earth's rotation. This "drains" angular momentum and rotational kinetic energy from Earth's rotation, slowing the Earth's rotation.[187][184] That angular momentum, lost from the Earth, is transferred to the Moon in a process known as tidal acceleration, which lifts the Moon into a higher orbit while lowering orbital speed around the Earth.

Thus the distance between Earth and Moon is increasing, and the Earth's rotation is slowing in reaction.[184] Measurements from laser reflectors left during the Apollo missions (lunar ranging experiments) have found that the Moon's distance increases by 38 mm (1.5 in) per year (roughly the rate at which human fingernails grow).[190][191][192] Atomic clocks show that Earth's Day lengthens by about 17 microseconds every year,[193][194][195] slowly increasing the rate at which UTC is adjusted by leap seconds.

This tidal drag makes the rotation of the Earth, and the orbital period of the Moon very slowly match. This matching first results in tidally locking the lighter body of the orbital system, as is already the case with the Moon. Theoretically, in 50 billion years,[196] the Earth's rotation will have slowed to the point of matching the Moon's orbital period, causing the Earth to always present the same side to the Moon. However, the Sun will become a red giant, most likely engulfing the Earth–Moon system long before then.[197][198]

If the Earth–Moon system isn't engulfed by the enlarged Sun, the drag from the solar atmosphere can cause the orbit of the Moon to decay. Once the orbit of the Moon closes to a distance of 18,470 km (11,480 mi), it will cross Earth's Roche limit, meaning that tidal interaction with Earth would break apart the Moon, turning it into a ring system. Most of the orbiting rings will begin to decay, and the debris will impact Earth. Hence, even if the Sun does not swallow up Earth, the planet may be left moonless

i think we're annoying like 60% of my mutuals /silly

Tachocline

Main article: Tachocline

The radiative zone and the convective zone are separated by a transition layer, the tachocline. This is a region where the sharp regime change between the uniform rotation of the radiative zone and the differential rotation of the convection zone results in a large shear between the two—a condition where successive horizontal layers slide past one another.[75] Presently, it is hypothesized that a magnetic dynamo, or solar dynamo, within this layer generates the Sun's magnetic field.[62]

Convective zone

Main article: Convection zone

The Sun's convection zone extends from 0.7 solar radii (500,000 km) to near the surface. In this layer, the solar plasma is not dense or hot enough to transfer the heat energy of the interior outward via radiation. Instead, the density of the plasma is low enough to allow convective currents to develop and move the Sun's energy outward towards its surface. Material heated at the tachocline picks up heat and expands, thereby reducing its density and allowing it to rise. As a result, an orderly motion of the mass develops into thermal cells that carry most of the heat outward to the Sun's photosphere above. Once the material diffusively and radiatively cools just beneath the photospheric surface, its density increases, and it sinks to the base of the convection zone, where it again picks up heat from the top of the radiative zone and the convective cycle continues. At the photosphere, the temperature has dropped 350-fold to 5,700 K (9,800 °F) and the density to only 0.2 g/m3 (about 1/10,000 the density of air at sea level, and 1 millionth that of the inner layer of the convective zone).[62]

The thermal columns of the convection zone form an imprint on the surface of the Sun giving it a granular appearance called the solar granulation at the smallest scale and supergranulation at larger scales. Turbulent convection in this outer part of the solar interior sustains "small-scale" dynamo action over the near-surface volume of the Sun.[62] The Sun's thermal columns are Bénard cells and take the shape of roughly hexagonal prisms.[76]

Photosphere

Main article: PhotosphereImage of the Sun's cell-like surface structures

The visible surface of the Sun, the photosphere, is the layer below which the Sun becomes opaque to visible light.[77] Photons produced in this layer escape the Sun through the transparent solar atmosphere above it and become solar radiation, sunlight. The change in opacity is due to the decreasing amount of H− ions, which absorb visible light easily.[77] Conversely, the visible light perceived is produced as electrons react with hydrogen atoms to produce H− ions.[78][79]

The photosphere is tens to hundreds of kilometers thick, and is slightly less opaque than air on Earth. Because the upper part of the photosphere is cooler than the lower part, an image of the Sun appears brighter in the center than on the edge or limb of the solar disk, in a phenomenon known as limb darkening.[77] The spectrum of sunlight has approximately the spectrum of a black-body radiating at 5,772 K (9,930 °F),[12] interspersed with atomic absorption lines from the tenuous layers above the photosphere. The photosphere has a particle density of ~1023 m−3 (about 0.37% of the particle number per volume of Earth's atmosphere at sea level). The photosphere is not fully ionized—the extent of ionization is about 3%, leaving almost all of the hydrogen in atomic form.[80]

Atmosphere

Main article: Stellar atmosphere

The Sun's atmosphere is composed of five layers: the photosphere, the chromosphere, the transition region, the corona, and the heliosphere.

The coolest layer of the Sun is a temperature minimum region extending to about 500 km above the photosphere, and has a temperature of about 4,100 K.[77] This part of the Sun is cool enough to allow for the existence of simple molecules such as carbon monoxide and water.[81] The chromosphere, transition region, and corona are much hotter than the surface of the Sun.[77] The reason is not well understood, but evidence suggests that Alfvén waves may have enough energy to heat the corona.[82]The Sun's transition region taken by Hinode's Solar Optical Telescope

Above the temperature minimum layer is a layer about 2,000 km thick, dominated by a spectrum of emission and absorption lines.[77] It is called the chromosphere from the Greek root chroma, meaning color, because the chromosphere is visible as a colored flash at the beginning and end of total solar eclipses.[74] The temperature of the chromosphere increases gradually with altitude, ranging up to around 20,000 K near the top.[77] In the upper part of the chromosphere helium becomes partially ionized.[83]

Above the chromosphere, in a thin (about 200 km) transition region, the temperature rises rapidly from around 20,000 K in the upper chromosphere to coronal temperatures closer to 1,000,000 K.[84] The temperature increase is facilitated by the full ionization of helium in the transition region, which significantly reduces radiative cooling of the plasma.[83] The transition region does not occur at a well-defined altitude, but forms a kind of nimbus around chromospheric features such as spicules and filaments, and is in constant, chaotic motion.[74] The transition region is not easily visible from Earth's surface, but is readily observable from space by instruments sensitive to extreme ultraviolet.[85]During a solar eclipse the solar corona can be seen with the naked eye during totality.

The corona is the next layer of the Sun. The low corona, near the surface of the Sun, has a particle density around 1015 m−3 to 1016 m−3.[83][e] The average temperature of the corona and solar wind is about 1,000,000–2,000,000 K; however, in the hottest regions it is 8,000,000–20,000,000 K.[84] Although no complete theory yet exists to account for the temperature of the corona, at least some of its heat is known to be from magnetic reconnection.[84][86] The corona is the extended atmosphere of the Sun, which has a volume much larger than the volume enclosed by the Sun's photosphere. A flow of plasma outward from the Sun into interplanetary space is the solar wind.[86]

The heliosphere, the tenuous outermost atmosphere of the Sun, is filled with solar wind plasma and is defined to begin at the distance where the flow of the solar wind becomes superalfvénic—that is, where the flow becomes faster than the speed of Alfvén waves,[87] at approximately 20 solar radii (0.1 AU). Turbulence and dynamic forces in the heliosphere cannot affect the shape of the solar corona within, because the information can only travel at the speed of Alfvén waves. The solar wind travels outward continuously through the heliosphere,[88][89] forming the solar magnetic field into a spiral shape,[86] until it impacts the heliopause more than 50 AU from the Sun. In December 2004, the Voyager 1 probe passed through a shock front that is thought to be part of the heliopause.[90] In late 2012, Voyager 1 recorded a marked increase in cosmic ray collisions and a sharp drop in lower energy particles from the solar wind, which suggested that the probe had passed through the heliopause and entered the interstellar medium,[91] and indeed did so on August 25, 2012, at approximately 122 astronomical units (18 Tm) from the Sun.[92] The heliosphere has a heliotail which stretches out behind it due to the Sun's peculiar motion through the galaxy.[93]

On April 28, 2021, NASA's Parker Solar Probe encountered the specific magnetic and particle conditions at 18.8 solar radii that indicated that it penetrated the Alfvén surface, the boundary separating the corona from the solar wind, defined as where the coronal plasma's Alfvén speed and the large-scale solar wind speed are equal.[94][95] During the flyby, Parker Solar Probe passed into and out of the corona several times. This proved the predictions that the Alfvén critical surface is not shaped like a smooth ball, but has spikes and valleys that wrinkle its surface.[94]Depiction of the heliosphere

#ethan's asks!!

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pensbridge · 1 year ago

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A lil rant about cast shipping

OH. MY. GOD.

The commentary about actor personal relationships has actually made me scared to come on here. When any related hashtags trend, I'm like "WHY?"

This happens in every fandom, but I honestly give props to the Bridgerton actors for keeping composure and not leading with resentment towards the life changing dream that feeds them or the stupid quote-unquote fans that need to focus on the show, because I could never! Also, that 99% of their actors successfully remain private, which I completely understand why when people act the way they do.

And why they try to protect some of their private lives..maybe clearly exhibited in the fact that some of you did this the last time! -that people were so intrusive, (coming from someone who's not even that in the know and very out of the loop until large amounts of attention are brought to it) that his last gf seemed visibly overwhelmed by some of the total lack of boundaries. And that the threats over "rejecting" a fictional character & "he should be w/her" apparently went too far that Nicola had to willingly step in. And if you think, "it's harmless, I of course would never do that"... these parasocial relationships foster a following to people that will absolutely do that and join your hive mentality.

But, seriously..thinking that anything was done wrong here by the cast...Let me break down these arguments, because I've actually been biting my tongue on this:

"Finding out he had a gf ruined the show for me because of the premiere." I think it's time for therapy, and learning to separate fiction from reality.

Perhaps this is where some of the pre-conceived notions & outrage for the show came from (idk).

"If he would have waited, it would have been better and we could accept it." You liar! NEXT.

"But he lied. I feel cheated. They both led us on to believe what they wanted us to." This is laughable. They told 98 billion times that they were friends, they flat out said they weren't dating before Part 1 even hit the screens, and you were like "they're lying! hehehe. They don't know themselves.." including interviewers in the final stretch, which is so so pathetic of them

People were flat out telling you that they weren't dating & about personal relationships (fyi I think Nicola has had a long-term bf as well; so sad 4 u~honestly not positive on this but i think), and fans were very much NOT discreet about these significant others on every platform.

"I hate that it's PR." Again, I don't think they lied to you about being friends. I don't even think they played up aspects of their relationship. There's a great read somewhere on why they fall back on handholding and being affectionate. I honestly feel sorry for some of you that there's such a harsh line between what's platonic and what's romantic/that every affectionate interaction for you=romantic love and 'we should date.' If you're stupid and see what you want, that's on you.

If you're one of these people, know that I hate you. The press reaction is honestly the worst part of every single one of these shows.

The entitlement of this fandom knows no bounds (thank God some of you are sane).

#i found out thru a grown a** woman ranting on tt; Let that sink in #Do you rly think it takes 5 years for ppl to decide they want to be together???#<..dear god they ACTUALLY connected them to the characters #...except they are adults unlike polin when they met #bridgerton #luke newton #nicola coughlan

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secretcheesecakecowboy · 8 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/secretcheesecakecowboy/765415125720170496/i-knew-jms-numbers-werent-organic-not-like-tae?source=share

He surpassed Tae's LMA's already and it's only been a few months since the release of his song. I've been wondering how it is possible because I swear I'm on tiktok all the time, but never once did I encounter a video using his song. I know tiktok is not just a basis, but at the rate his song is gaining streams, one would expect it's going viral or something. How are they doing it? I don't know if I should be impressed or what? Maybe it's not bot and he really has a dedicated fanbase or something. But we've seen his exhibit. It's not selling. His albums are not selling much, too. It's an insult for him as an artist if it's all fraud.

Hello 👋 sorry I missed this ask.

I honestly don't know, but the math isn't mathing. It would be an insult to him as an artist if the numbers were not genuine. They, meaning his fans, aren't doing him any favors by pulling this stunt. He should earn the success on his own merits.

Whatever they're doing his song "Who" is charting in the millions each day. I'm perplexed as you are.

Keep streaming Love Me Again. Closed to 1 billion streams.

#my ask #we might never know #maybe in a few years there will be another company leak #keep streaming love me again

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wolfertinger · 4 months ago

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Heya. It’s me again, I’ve been focusing on things outside of the internet and haven’t be very active, but I would like to share an analysis I’ve been figuring out for a bit now. I am no way shape or form a professional, but as someone who wants to pursue a career in psychology I care about learning more about these sorts of things and becoming more open minded/understanding. It’s important to me to note just why Majora will never change and explainin a few things.

There is a specific screenshot I shared, from a long while ago, from when I was 17, of a ss of Majora’s account at the time where she admits to be a psychopath, and considering her history of being in therapy at one point in time, it is highly likely that she IS diagnosed with a disorder associated with psychopathy, but please keep in mind that not all psychopaths are bad. Many people who were close to her can vouch that she would just straight up not take her meds, and purposely not take care of her mental health. Now this in itself explains her behaviors, and just why she is so reluctant in taking accountability for her actions.

Before I get into this, I want to make it known that I sourced from multiple dot ORG and ESPECIALLY EDU sites. ALWAYS make sure to cross examine to ensure the information you’re reading and about to provide is factually correct, as it can be harmful and provide misleading interpretations of things, especially disorders and mental illnesses.

Now I will admit, at the time I finished wringing the second version of this, I was ignorant in fully understanding what this actually means (and asked a stupid question of WHY would a psychopath say that as seen above). It does not ALWAYS mean a person will commit heinous acts. Here’s so statistics;

Up to 16% percent of men imprisoned are diagnosed with psychopathy, and 10-12% of women imprisoned are diagnosed (this is just the two binary sexes/genders that are accounted for). Now this is JUST the ones that are diagnosed and the ones who are willing to do extremes, again; NOT EVERYONE THAT IS CONSIDERED A PSYCHOPATH COMMITS CRIMES AND GOES OUT OF THEIR WAY TO HURT PEOPLE.

1% of the world population is affected by severe psychopathy, whilst 30% of people tend to have traits associated with this disorder. These numbers seem small, but if you take into consideration that there are billions of human beings, that percentage is a lot of people. 30% would be around 2.2 billion or more/less depending on the population at the time. That’s a lot of people. So no, not every psychopath is a terrible person who wants to watch people suffer like they’re made out to be.

Anyways, let me get straight to the point.

Majora will never change, she doesn’t want to.

Here I will be listing traits of psychopaths, and putting some traits she has exhibited in red.

* lack of empathy

* impulsive behavior

* lack of guilt

* recklessness

* manipulative

* shows signs of narcissistic behavior

* shows an enlarged ego

* social dominance (basically, has to be center of attention)

* highly intelligent ( too intelligent for her own good, in the sense she’s so smart that she’s an idiot due to a trait I’m listing right below this trait and it was a matter of time before she got caught)

* Arrogant

* poor judgement and cannot learn from experience

* pathological liar

To top it off, Psychopaths have a high understanding of cognitive empathy, which basically means they know how people work emotionally and this is what makes them master manipulators. It really depends on the person if they use this to hurt or not.

Majora is severely mentally ill, but she cannot change because /she/ refuses to and does not care, and has made it very obvious several times. She will do everything in her power to save her own ass. Any apology she’s given has been a complete lie; she just does not care. No amount of medicine or therapy can change the mind of an individual who is uncaring like she is. Majora is dangerous.

Welp, hope this was somewhat informative and I want to make it known I do not condone painting psychopaths in a terrible lighting, as they can be functional, and can contribute as what is deemed as someone with decent morals and can treat others well depending on the severity of their disorder(s). There are a multitude of reasons why people have this disorder; genetics, treatment during childhood, the section of the brain that regulates emotions and impulse control, and many more reasons. There is also 4 classifications; Narcissistic, Borderline, Antisocial, and Aggressive. This is why I need to empathize that is it bad to associate psychopathy with nothing but bad people. Because it is harmful ideology, especially when it comes to those with BPD and NPD. Someone CAN get help, yes they will not be cured and will still struggle, but therapy can do wonders for assisting in regulating the symptoms of disorders and mental illnesses.

Overall, please remember that it truly depends on the person. You cannot change someone, only they can change themself. They have to make that call, they have to be willing to seek help, and most importantly; they have to actually care, not only for themself, but others.

i think, armchair diagnoses can be somewhat risky. and preemptively wish to say, i do not think psychopathic people, are inherently a danger, or violent. it is the way you cope with your illnesses.

but, in the same way. mental illness, can make you prone to these types of behaviors. i would not doubt if majora, was undiagnosed, with some type of low or full lack, of empathy, and rather than attempting to cope with this, exclusively focalizes on herself, and her wants/needs.

i think, things like being an artist, while buying ai adoptables, or being transphobicmisgendering others, while being trans herself. just exhibits that.

#brainpilled #schrodingers-nutsack

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solatom123 · 10 months ago

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By Solomon Lartey, Teeside university student, PhD.

The Evolution of Golfing Techniques and Their Impact on the Sport: A Comprehensive Analysis

1. Introduction

Golf, a sport renowned for its precision and skill, has evolved dramatically over the centuries. From its origins in the rolling hills of Scotland to the manicured greens of today’s most prestigious courses, golfing techniques have been shaped by time, culture, and innovation. This analysis will explore the progression of these techniques and their profound impact on the sport, delving into the evolution of equipment, the pivotal role of technology in coaching, and the elevation of professional golfing to an elite industry.

Early golf sought to master a simple set of mechanics, and the dawn of golf videos shifted focus from ball trajectory to player form, highlighting posture and club angle at impact. From the 1970s onwards, advancements in swing analysis used electronics to monitor motion variables, transitioning from early video analysis to formats that monitored forwards yaws, hip and trunk rotation, and shoulder angles. Concurrently, various swing theories and techniques emerged, and educators turned to addressing the psychological nature of golf for performance enhancement. These combined techniques made it possible for experts to implement customized golf swings for increased power and accuracy.

In 1995, the worldwide interest in professional golf was further magnified by the advent of the Tiger Woods era. Golf, long considered an elite game of leisure, became a multi-billion dollar and highly magnified industry, resulting in an unprecedented boom in tourism. The rise in interest has positively impacted various areas linked to golf, ranging from equipment manufacturing to courses and hotels. The golf tourism factor has closely stimulated social needs and encouraging research into enhancing player performance. Attention spans have been decreasing, shifting focus on the macro to the micro. As world championships can be won with a last putt from roughly 60 feet or ca four frozen seconds of the putt rolling over the lips, and as research has shown the game to be played under 5 pars around the world annually, it would appear that impractically larger swings produce a larger chance of desired outcomes than other models.

Despite the financial advancement of the game, player performance has been found stagnant in the years since the mid-1990s, even when adjusting for age as deeper understandings of playing conditions have been implemented. The theory of requirements has recently been complemented by the theory of progression, unveiling golfers to exhibit adaptations to their technique related to different effects of club-ball interactions utilizing under moments during swings. Consequently, contemporary professional male golfers more commonly adopt the hitting technique than a swing technique.

2. Historical Overview of Golfing Techniques

Emerging in the 15th century in Scotland, golf was played on the Town Moor in Edinburgh, using wooden clubs and hand-carved balls. These initial techniques, as demonstrated in illustrations from the 15th and 16th centuries, showed a varied grip and swing, suggesting a natural evolution in golfing play and techniques. With its spread into England, Ireland, and Europe, golf matured as a sport, creating a need for standardized rules and equipment. In 1744, the first known set of golf rules was drafted in Edinburgh, leading to the evolution of golfing techniques. Long-shots, greens, shovels, and the brassie became key components of the game. The 19th century also witnessed the invention of iron clubs and the subsequent emergence of golfing clubs from St. Andrews. (Cousins, 2023)

During the early years of its introduction to America, within two decades, golf was being played at a variety of courses in nearly every densely populated area, notably in New York City. Now rapidly growing in sporting popularity, golf was formally adopted by the United States Golf Association (USGA) in 1894. Its increased participation, from the low-income population to upper socio-economic classes, facilitated the establishment of new tournaments with longer prizes. Moreover, women became increasingly involved as a result of the burgeoning interest in golf. Subsequently, the competitive spirit led golf balls to undergo an evolutionary change, advocating for golfing clubs and balls that were closer to the present-day variety. (Austin, 2022)

With the turn of the century, attention was concentrated on the rebirth of golf and its recuperation from its ancillary school of excesses. Gear swept aside knickerbockers, silk knicker trousers, and other somberly colored clothes in favor of a predominating cap and jacket of tweed, medium grey mixed with warm brown and rich yellow. Not only golf but tennis as well had inspired vigorous notice and into it had rushed the whole nation. Taming the wildness of golf, in 1903, Wilding had become the amateur champion of the United States before winning Wimbledon the following year. This period remained otherwise notable because Big Bertha knocked all other golf balls silly and nearly into the junk pile with its huge face of 6.79 inches head attached to a shaft of 47 inches. (Rebanal Martínez, 2021)

3. Key Traditional Golfing Techniques

Golf is a sport that has a long history behind it. Since the sport gained huge fame and number of followers across the globe, several golfing techniques have evolved and altered the playstyle and style of the game. Golfing techniques occurred both naturally and innovatively. The focus of this section is to analyze the most impactful and widespread golfing techniques that have impacted the game most. (Suzuki et al., 2021)

3.1. Grip and Stance

One of the most significant developments in golfing techniques was the discovery of proper grip and stance styles. These two techniques are the most basic in golfing and play a significant role in determining the outcome of the game. The selection of the proper grip is critical to play the game properly. The grip of the driver is one of the major factors in determining the play and path of the ball. Selecting the proper grip technique allows the golfer to strike the ball from all the surfaces of the golf course evenly. Early on, a lot of golfers adopted the splitting of the index finger technique of gripping, either overlapping or interlocking or gripping with all 10 fingers. However, learning to grip it properly takes much more time as the public exposure to it was minimum. Gradually with technological advancement, special caps were developed and ball tracking gadgets were invented. These gadgets and balls provided instant outcome of the game after the impact of the driver. Analyzing the golf ball spin and path, the experts suggested changing the grip technique enabling the golfer to point their thumb at the high left region of the shaft while keeping their hand rotated clockwise by 45 degrees. Using this grip technique, a golfer's club face would start at maximum closed position preventing the draw hook of the ball. (Navarro Lasunción, 2024)

Other widely used grip techniques with curved driver and ridges on the shape of the driver head resulted in an unintended hook path on the right leading to a miss-hit. Matched with the wrong stance, the unintended hook path continued with hands placed in front of the ball leading to an insufficiently closed face preventing the draw path. There were also recommendations from gear effect drives used having a shaft positively tilted towards the right from the vertical being useless for the golf set with driver have a head of a high vertical angled aligned with the fore link tilt. While this tended on increasing miss-hit affecting the distance, this also caused the hit on the optimal impact with the club face not parallel to the path of the driver nearly impeding the general tendency on time delay producing a meanwhile unliking swerve from players. (Trustees)

The stance in core requires power and this golf pose, playing a significant role between address and impact, has received little attention from teaching professionals compared with grip or swing techniques. Golfers with stable stance in general do not raise or lower their heads before or into backswing be likely to achieve more consistence shots. Thus, investigating the effect of stance technique requires assessing its amplitude throughout the whole swing and comparing the address and impact postures.

The head movement produced in the stance would bed a golfer to start the swing along a wrong path in a miss-hit with a hook or slice shot. Additionally, right-players flare to poorly rotate their hips and shoulders producing shoring shots. On the other side, flexibility across the upper body or within the lower body drives somewhat core-level players needing over-rotation of the upper body during the backswing or excessive forward push with the lower body after impact. However, few golfers are properly taught to stretch manually to reach a wider stance before address.

3.2. Swing Mechanics

Another traditional golfing technique is swinging in sync with the body. This technique teaches the players to follow the core rotational swing mechanics and circle the driver around one axis to play the ball instead of swaying axis in a miss-hit forming either slice or hook shots. Using amateurs (body type mass 74.5 kg height 1.75 m ) and ten top professional golfer's (PGA tour average drive distance 288.5±11.5 yards) with club heads sampled by high-speed cameras and various targets, this traditional technique has also been developed. Parameterizing a three-dimensional inverse kinematic model representing overall body and club movement, the effect of the traditional technique and stored parameters is compared through performing a full golf swing, addressing how the differences around the average from the parameters stored within each group affect the likelihood on miss-hit. (Hasley et al.2023)

The method concentrates on the motion aspect, choosing a local coordinate system at ground level with an origin fixed in the position of the golf ball and with axes pointing down the fairway, left and up for distance and vertical movements respectively. With regards to twenty-nine parameters describing the movement of the golf swing covering both body angles, positions and club face positions, the results yield a greater likelihood on miss-hit with amateurs than with top professionals severely indicating that educational systems would greatly enhance the precision of this sport. (ToSell & Saturday)

Modern golf is a sport of precision. Therefore, playing under different configurations on course, club, equipment and environment match with the swing mechanics of players define unique characters influencing the outcome of the play. By controlling for some factors, affecting the probability of miss-hit can be categorized into three parts conventionally referred to as play styles influencing the stance and swing. Enhancing performance comprises techniques altering stroke playstyle to almost systematically inhibit execution with miss-hit or miss-rim.

3.1. Grip and Stance

Central to the essence of golf lies the grip and stance—the foundational techniques upon which every other element of the game rests. Irrespective of the club in hand or the skill level of the golfer, this initial and primal action inevitably shapes the success of every shot played. Despite the subtle variations among golfers, whether leisurely players, seasoned amateurs, or elite professionals, grip and stance exhibit remarkable uniformity and graphical simplicity. Analyzing these two techniques sheds light not only on the sport as a whole but also on the everyday champion or played ball. (Wells, 2022)

Progressing from the outside in, the stance serves as the golfer's base of support throughout the entire swing. Only with solid, equal foundation can the golfer swing the club forwards and backwards around that fixed point. Both feet part distance and angle to the ball relative to the target are memories etched in the minds of most conscientious amateur golfers. Conversely, the grip, a more complex technique, consists of multiple actions made by both hands with the fingers and thumb of each hand against the club at the same time. Upon the grip is built the inadvertent pivot of the swing, the hands on the club controlling the face of the club and thus ultimately influencing the path of the arc. (Yang et al.2021)

While the momentary grip on the club is the fiest action shared by every golfer, uniqueness of the grip lies in regards to the club. Each club is different in form and feel, hence muscle memory is burnt by the unique act repeated with each club, and new twists in hands and wrists are added onto the basic grip. These intricacies are due to the fact that putter, iron, hybrid, wood, and driver all possess different lofts, lengths, and thus unique flex dynamics (whether aiming to keep the ball low, induce a slight loft, or to arc up the drive). Nevertheless, the grip is the only act from which the later swing peace is unwound. (Hocknell et al., 2020)(Holland et al.2020)

3.2. Swing Mechanics

In traditional golfing techniques, swing mechanics play a vital role in imparting the necessary power, accuracy, and consistency to the flight of the ball. The golf swing can be simply visualized as an arc of circular motion around a fixed axis, in which the clubhead moves towards a pivoted point in front of the body. A fundamental postulate of the golf swing is that the club must not be swung across the body during the downswing. It must instead be swung down and out. The path of the clubhead takes a symmetrical arc: down and in during the downswing, and up and out during the follow-through. The path of the golf ball must be compatible with the path of the clubhead at impact. The club must be swung down from a position well above the line of the ball so that the clubhead meets the ball just as the clubhead is on an outward path.

Another key point of traditional golf swing mechanics is that it must conform to ball-centering and impact position requirements, no matter how the club is gripped and so the wrist hinge or how minimized the lateral movement there is of the protruding body parts. The clubhead must be swung similarly around stacked vertical axes on both the back and forward motions. Both the backswing and follow-through must be performed in an arc motion that is of a uniform radius and is centered behind the body's core. In order to square the clubface at impact, the club must be swung reflexively over-restricted through the slot. In an attempt to prevent the ball from going to the right, the club must either re-extend a protruding arm or a wrist has to be unhinged too late.

There are biomechanical adjustments to traditional swing mechanics to create a normal golf swing free from hooked strokes. Adjustment of the arm's length of swing and pivot point is performed, so as to consider the baseball swing mechanics of working in a wider arc while continuing to adhere to the traditional grip. In line with fixed pivoting points of both the anchored legs and a core, the arms must be freed from the body's pivot to control the swing radius of the club circled by the arms. This could in turn free the clubs of being swung excessively within the body. To create an arched swing path, the shoulders and the forearms must be swung downwards by movers in charge of the pulled sides of the torso.

4. Technological Advancements in Golf Equipment

In the intricate tapestry of golf’s storied heritage, it’s frequently the quiet evolution behind the scenes that has had the most lasting consequences. Though it is often easy to recall the flamboyant politicians and pro athletes who have played the game, the focus here is instead on lesser-known figures who have played a crucial part in changing the nature of the sport. Decades before the modern game took hold, innovators tinkering with rudimentary wooden instruments had a profound effect on how golf was played. Given the game’s glacial and genteel pace of life, it is easy to misconstrue golf as a quaint pastime sustained by social and economic traditions. However, golf has never really stopped changing. Indeed, the game is replete with breakthroughs in technique that have irrevocably shaped how the sport is played. Greenkeeping, the ball, and the club have all received attention in this study on the evolution of golf equipment. (Millard, 2023)

In each instance, innovations that worked their way upwards from relatively small roots transformed the fabric of the entire sport. It wasn’t always a linear or easy process. Opposition to rubber balls was widespread, and clubmakers feared what would happen to golf in the transition from wooden to metal-headed clubs. As alternatives have arisen, so too have concerns about their sustainability for the game. But legislation has kept pace with innovation, and throughout golf’s history such changes have had a far-reaching effect on the mechanics of technique and the playing of the game itself. Arguably, the most impactful development has been the introduction of technology. Club-making methods and material sciences have outstripped the skill of the club professional, as has the golfiness of golf course design. At one fell swoop, this has rendered the great par-threes of the craft obsolete. Nevertheless, this does not mean that the world of golf has been left wanting. In some respects, the game’s rich history has underestimated the effect technology would ultimately have on golf. In challenging the adequacy of human endeavour, it is likely to continue reshaping technique and the sport for decades into the future. As golf begins its own paradigm shift, it is likely to usher in a new generation of feral and free-spirited golfers bent on domination.

5. Modern Golfing Techniques

The advent of technological innovation and scientific advancement, primarily identifiable in the last two decades of the twentieth century, prompted a revolution in golfing techniques and methodologies. An emerging industry, golf biomechanics inadvertently fueled this revolution by mechanizing and simplifying golf swings while theoretically minimizing the risk of golf-related injury. By accurately measuring the kinematically remarkable movement of the human body in two and three-dimensional spaces, golf biomechanics began to prompt a re-evaluation of past golfing methods. Meanwhile, an upswing in the use of golf simulators and innovative golfing training was notable. Previous errors in golf swings were corrected or slowed with the incorporation of slow-motion kinetic studies. Resultingly, a revolution similar to the re-evaluation of swinging techniques in golf biomechanics and pseudo golf was prompted within golfing cultures. A list of referential golfing figures of modern golfing techniques and their techniques has become a cultural norm in the global golf culture. An index is commonly referred to for golfing techniques and their analysis, and a checklist could readily and easily find its way into an amateur golfer's golf bag. Most of modern golfing techniques are biomechanical or kinematic by nature and gradually becomes mechanical, offering universally applicable and culturally broad methodologies. With the mechanical nature of golfing, modeling is prominently involved, reducing golf swings and inquiry into a system of modularity on repeatable, testable motion.

Yet, modeling entails a reduction of the complex mixture found in golf swings while representing only the most relevant aspects of motion and, in turn, negating specific conditions. As a result, a model raises the concern of an inevitable cultural appropriation that homogenizes bodily motion, associated consciousness, and adherent verbalizations, other than casting golf swings as “an intuitive game” that renders golf swings and their culture art-like. Therefore, in light of its social frames, paradigmatic and iconic, golf modeling necessitates a comprehensive analysis - understanding both the affordance it bears for concentrated interests in bodily technique, consciousness, and culture, and its subsequent cultural epiphenomena. The inroad for such an analysis is gained via an inquiry into the pioneering models of golf swings by acclaimed golf figures. Similar to today’s golf syllabuses that gather iconic figures’ golf swings and disseminate their mission-statement-like verbalization, prominent golfing figures’ modeling gratifies a prospective golfer desire to enhance golfing techniques, reckoning the cited concern of reproducible golf swings. This takes the next question as to how to improve such reproducible golfing techniques, which barely offers mutual and specific answers, other than modeling without a framework to analyze the social nexus that holds the compliant relationship between bodily technique and consciousness. Therefore, within the modern golfing culture entirely pervaded by golfing modeling, golf figure studies appear necessary. (Yordanov et al., 2022)

5.1. Biomechanics and Kinematics

Biomechanics and Kinematics: Human body and strength have greatly affected how bio-mechanics has emerged in sports. Body types and strengths vary from person to person. Some people have better swing speeds, while others have better swing lines. In Golf, the primary movement is rotation at the shoulders, pelvis, knees, and feet. All these rotational body movements affect club speed and distances. This biomechanical analysis focuses on the golf swing motion with a right-handed player, encompassing positions from the back swing, down swing, and follow through for bio-mechanical explanations. A major intention of this analysis is to determine and discuss some key bio-mechanical aspects of the golf swing in comparison to the golf swings of the rookie and the professional players filmed by the St-2 mini camcorders. In this analysis, the veterans and their swings would be also looked at with respect to biomechanics to check the swings and movements. (Gould et al.2021)

Clubs’ types and specifications are a big part of modern golf. Golf manufacturers spend so much time, money, and effort trying to make golf technology that provides players with better equipment that makes the overall game easier. The main types and specifications in clubs are the loft, lie, length, weight consistency, swing weight, shaft tip age, grooves, and face types. The lifetime of endurance and consistency of clubs is often compared with other sports like tennis or baseball. Weather and play can affect the precision and potential of the equipment and change how they perform. The rules of club types are based upon the USGA rules. The creativity and skills in the play can be lost or changed with overly complex club technology. The point of this analysis is to investigate clubs as modern technology, equipment of golf, history, types, strengths, and rules.

Lastly, putting has been very computerized in recent times, and these systems are mainly found inside the houses of golfers. Systems to putt are hugely mechanical and computerized. To the public, these are regarded as an illegal use of equipment by the USGA rules. The industry of golf is now entering a scientific and mechanical time. Tennis, baseball, basketball, other sports, and their athletes think of ways to get better by using better, smarter technology. Human be-havior, flexibility of the biomechanics of golf is studied more than it ever has been. The general idea of golf has modernized from traditional club use to mechanical bio-mechanical and technological golf ways. The game of golf is still the same as it once was and should feel and sometimes be used that whether the game hasn’t changed much.

5.2. Mental and Psychological Strategies

In addition to physical considerations, the evolution of golfing techniques must involve an overview of the mental and psychological strategies in the game. Golf presents a generally unique sporting challenge, unlike most other popular sports. Golfing matches can last from a short 2 hours to over 4 hours, involving the same (comparative) situation throughout the round, with the main additional variable from a golfing perspective being the course location. The game itself does not have other competitors impeding the performance of other competitors, which is a primary aspect of most competitive sporting events. Such factors mean that these variables need to be dealt with in different ways practically and mentally. As a result, golfers must fine-tune techniques in terms of performance, understanding the zone of control, and preparation before and even during a round. This could best be illustrated by considering the case of one Mexican golfer. (Whitehead & Jackman, 2021)(Oliver et al.2021)

Sometimes the metagame needs to be understood to strategize the techniques further and control each performance based on strategic choices that could depend on the golfing situation, physical environment (ground, wind, and heart rate), and mainly performance and situation statistics. Although similar comparative techniques concerning the hurdles must be used (such as meteorological statistics and ground understanding), the golfer possesses a personal meta-knowledge. Despite winning tournaments against male players, the winning techniques were first based on knowing which holes are best for the average male player and trying to comprehend such stats from a different viewpoint, taking the ESPN Stats and Info team’s possible projections to understand the whole player perspective holistically. One advantage was that overall performances could be compared, but not on a stroke basis. From such differences and distances, possible plays to gain advantage on putting and driving could be analyzed depending on whole distance outputs, grass, topography, and other possible required pitches. Such edge considerations were planned and used progressively throughout rounds.

Another personal understanding of individual techniques based on performance intimate knowledge is how to be in “the zone.” This involves controlling and understanding many thoughts, visualizations, and sensations (mindfulness) concerning positive and negative traits and stimuli that promote or disrupt performance. This level was progressively obtained through rigorous daily effort and analyze of various performances under such conditions. Once trained, it is essential to exercise this state to dispose of it and be ready for use at any point. Such a technique is closely related to breathing and some routine actions before swinging with the putter, shorter clubs, and driver, which help to place the tasks within the best condition zone to control them suitably. Using the context to feel emotions and stimuli clearly is crucial to signal immediately where it is best (and needed) to focus more and not just continue to shake player heads.

Being relaxed is also a constant approached challenge, especially when tied for first or leading. In this state, focus is lost and hence control, and it must be planned before and after the round to either maintain a fluent rhythm when playing or breathe and try to feel relaxed on each action otherwise. On the physiological aspect, alcohol can be exploited to be used and limit to achieve a certain performance point.

6. The Impact of Evolving Techniques on Performance and Strategy

Through analysis of archived materials, the impact of technology and scientific knowledge on golf techniques is assessed. Instructions were initially rudimentary but became more structured and based on anatomical insights and human behavior. A shift from fundamental improvement with awareness to technique refinement for elite players was observed. Changes commonly target styles of movement rather than player individuality and requirement. Analysis of past and current documents reveals the impact and concern regarding the influence of evolving techniques on golf performance and strategy selection. (Wells & Langdown, 2020)

The impact of evolving techniques on performance and strategy selection: An analysis based on archived materials on golf technique instruction spanning more than 120 years emphasizes the influence and concern surrounding technique. This analysis distinguishes four periods in the evolution of instruction and discusses the resulting focus of performance improvement and strategy selection.

With the advent of increasing technology and scientific knowledge, including progress in physical education, structural exploration of the human body, the notion of unconscious motivation, video and computer instruction, and sports psychology, golf techniques recorded between 1869 and 2008 are analyzed to examine the impact of evolving techniques on golf performance and strategy selection. All the documents are archived in England, specifically the British Library of Sports and The Open Championship.

The performance of golf is determined by a sequence of strategy selections and executions, considering two phases of action: strategy consideration, which refers to creating a sequence of actions to execute at a specific time, and strategy evaluation, which refers to checking the overall cost-effectiveness of the selected strategies. With such a historical perspective, the impact of evolving techniques can be evaluated in terms of changes in the focus of performance improvement and strategy selection. Hence, the disposition of past and present golf instruction documents is examined in terms of the focus of evolving coaching knowledge, norm observation, and coaching view of players, all as targets for consideration. (Roberts et al.2021)

7. Conclusion and Future Directions

The game of golf has evolved in multiple ways over the years, with changes in clubs and technology, the construction of courses and walking or buggy riding, the professionalization of the sport, changes in the amateur ethos, and societal perceptions. This review addressed these topics and provided insight into the evolution of golfing techniques and their impact on the sport. In particular, the evolution of golf clubs with historic roots, technological developments, and the golf swing mechanism were elaborately discussed. It is hoped that this review would help in the future understanding of golf and assist in making decisions over the future of golf.

In conclusion, golf is the game of putters and drivers, greens and fairways, wedges, and who knows how many others when it comes to clubs. A golf club in the strictest definition implies a stick with a curved end, or several curved ends that are used to hit the golf ball. Golf clubs comprise of shaft, club head, hosel, grip, and face. There are several types of clubs used in golf, putting clubs, short clubs, mid-range clubs, long clubs, wedges, and drivers. The design and material of clubs can dramatically affect the flight of a golf ball. Using the right type of club can help a player improve their game. This paper presents historical roots of clubs from refashioned farm implements to highly machined titanium heads, discusses the evolution of clubs over the years and ends with future expectations over clubs.

Although golf swings appear to be simple to the untrained eye, close-up viewing demonstrates the remarkable complexity of motions involved. Throughout the golf swing, a complex interplay of biomechanics and motion exists. Golfers generate kinetic energy in a swinging motion and transfer throughout the golfer to the hands that holds the club. This energy is converted into a ball-launching motion powered by a series of motion-to-force conversions acting on the club’s head. The golf swing is a movement skill, involving dynamic coordination of legs, hips, trunk, shoulders, arms, hands, and clubs in a serial way. It’s important in both golf swing analysis and instructional improvement to recognize and understand the biomechanics supporting the golf swing.

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