#oc: atom

[evisxerate]

Stinky little dude

[juunipupu]

Fave collection of Wreg yearning/smooching knights and generally loving dudes

[crismakesstuff]

here’s to moving onto 2025!! c:

partial face reveal wooo ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

[andva-ri]

i hauve. doodles

☆ ko-fi - tip the artist | commissions | prints ☆

[awhhayden]

GIVE ME ALL THAT YOU CAN GIVE | ⋆˙⟡

pairing: main!mark x hyperfem!reader

Summary: you haven’t seen mark in weeks, only to be suprised when he stumbles into your room in the middle of the night…something is different.

The digital clock on your nightstand blinked 3:27 AM in mocking red. Outside your bedroom window, the world was wrapped in the kind of silence that only came with late-night solitude — a quiet so thick it made your chest feel heavier than it should. You lay on your back, arms folded under your head, staring up at the ceiling with eyes that refused to close. Sleep hadn’t come easy since Mark left on his mission. Weeks had crawled by, each one more agonizing than the last, filled with anxious half-texts that never delivered and headlines you avoided reading. You had no idea where he was — they never told you specifics — just that he was needed somewhere out there.

Your fingers toyed with the edge of his hoodie, the one you hadn’t taken off in two days. It still smelled faintly like him, like wind and warmth and something you couldn't name, and you held onto that like it was your lifeline. Your mind replayed the last time you saw him — the way he kissed you like he was afraid it might be the last time. The memory ached more than comforted. You hated how used to this you were becoming.

The softest whoosh of displaced air made your body tense. You sat up slowly, heart thudding, every instinct flaring to life. That sound — you knew that sound. Then the window creaked open, just enough for a shadow to stumble through, and your breath caught when you saw him.

“Mark?” you breathed, scrambling off the bed.

He was barely standing. His blue and yellow suit was torn in several places, dark blood soaking through in thick patches. One of his eyes was almost swollen shut, his lip split, and his breathing was ragged. He looked like he’d fought through hell to get back to you — and maybe he had.

“Hey,” he rasped, and then, like all the strength had drained out of him at once, he collapsed.

You caught him before he hit the floor, arms straining to support him. His body was burning up, trembling against you, and you lowered him as gently as you could onto the carpet. “Mark, what the hell—what happened?” you asked, voice cracking as panic started to override the shock.

He gave you a weak smile, his bloodstained hand coming up to brush your cheek. “Missed you,” he murmured, and then his eyes fluttered shut.

You pressed your forehead to his and whispered his name over and over, the weight of the past few weeks slamming into you all at once. He was here. He was alive. But God, what did it take for him to get back to you like this?

You moved on instinct, tears blurring your vision as you dragged him toward your bed, every grunt of pain from him slicing through you like glass. Your hands were shaking, but your mind was locked in survival mode — he needed help. Not Cecil. Not anyone official. Not yet. They’d ask too many questions, maybe pull him away again. You needed him here. With you.

You laid him out carefully, his blood already staining your sheets, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You peeled the remnants of his suit away as gently as possible, biting down a sob every time he winced. His chest was a mess — bruises, slashes, something that looked too much like a burn. You grabbed your first-aid kit, praying it would be enough for now.

As you dabbed antiseptic along a deep gash on his side, he stirred, hissing through his teeth. “You should be asleep,” he mumbled, his voice rough and raw.

You took a deep breath tears slipping silently down your face. “What happened to you?”

He opened his good eye, locking it with yours. “Didn’t want to waste time. Just... needed to get back to you.”

The way he said it — like you were gravity, like everything in him was straining toward you even when the universe pulled him apart — made your heart ache in a way nothing else could. You pressed a cloth against another wound, your hands gentler this time, and leaned in close so he could hear you clearly.

“You can’t do this to me, Mark,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You can’t disappear for weeks and come back half-dead like it’s normal. I can't just keep pretending this is okay.”

“I know,” he said, his fingers curling weakly around your wrist. “I’m sorry. But the whole time... all I thought about was you.”

You didn’t answer right away. You just let the silence stretch, except now it was filled with the sound of his breathing — shaky, alive. Slowly, you laid down beside him, careful not to touch the worst of his injuries, but close enough that he could feel you there.

He shifted slightly, just enough to rest his forehead against yours again, his bloodied hand finding yours in the dark.

the weight of it all became too much to sit with alone. Carefully, you settled in on your side, facing him, forehead just an inch from his. Close enough to feel the warmth of his breath. You traced your thumb lightly over the back of his hand, memorizing every line, every groove. You hadn’t held it in weeks. It still felt like home.

“I was starting to forget what it felt like,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Being near you. Touching you. I thought I lost you.”

A beat passed. Then another.

And then — softly, like it hurt to speak — he mumbled, “I kept hearing your voice.”

You blinked. “What?”

Mark’s eyes fluttered open halfway, unfocused, but they searched for you anyway. “When I thought I was gonna die. I kept hearing you… telling me to come home.”

Your chest caved inward like something inside it cracked. You leaned in, pressing your forehead to his, your tears quietly slipping down between you. “You are home.”

You didn’t say anything else. Not tonight. Not when there was still so much left to clean up — wounds to treat, questions to ask, promises to make. That could come later.

For now, you just held on to him like you were never going to let go again.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds in slow, warm ribbons, casting soft lines across the room. It was quiet — too quiet — the kind that makes you hold your breath without realizing it. You blinked awake slowly, still on your side, the ache in your back a reminder that you hadn’t moved much all night.

Mark was still there.

He looked better in the daylight, though that wasn’t saying much. His bruises had started to darken, the swelling in his jaw slightly worse, but he was breathing deeper now. Steadier. The tension that had clung to his body like a second skin had finally loosened while he slept.

You shifted carefully, afraid to wake him, but he stirred anyway. His eyes fluttered open and blinked blearily at the ceiling, then slowly drifted to you. A soft, tired smile tugged at the corner of his split lip.

“Morning,” he rasped.

God, even like this — broken, bandaged, exhausted — your chest still fluttered when he looked at you like that.

“Hey,” you said quietly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, biting your bottom lip. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. You came back. That’s what matters.”

He turned his head toward you a bit more, wincing at the motion. “Barely.”

“Still counts,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth — the one that wasn’t busted. He exhaled slowly, the touch grounding him. “Do you want water? Or food? You haven’t had anything real since you got here.”

He nodded weakly. “Water first. Maybe… something soft. Everything hurts.”

You smiled gently. “Alright. I’ll be right back.”

You stood, stretched, and padded quietly to the kitchen, your body still heavy with worry but your steps a little lighter. The kettle hissed softly as you filled it, and for a moment, everything almost felt normal — like he was just sleeping in, like he hadn’t just crawled back to you from the edge of the universe.

When you returned with a glass of water and a bowl of oatmeal, Mark was still awake, propped up slightly against the headboard, your pillow behind him. His eyes followed you like he was afraid you’d vanish the second he blinked.

You handed him the glass, steadying it for him when his fingers trembled. He drank slowly, then looked at you with something unreadable in his eyes.

“You should’ve been mad at me,” he said quietly. “For coming back like that. For not calling.”

“I was mad,” you admitted. “I am but I was more scared. And I don’t want to waste time being angry when I just got you back.”

He watched you for a long moment, then reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours despite the stiffness in his joints.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he confessed, voice rough. “Not the hero thing. This. Us. You deserve someone who comes home in one piece.”

“I don’t care if you come home in pieces,” you whispered, sitting beside him again. “Just come home.”

Mark leaned his head against your shoulder, his body heavy with exhaustion. You rested your cheek against his hair and closed your eyes.

You’d have to talk more — about the mission, about what happened, about what comes next. But for now, you stayed right there, wrapped in the quiet hum of morning, holding on to each other like it was the only thing keeping either of you breathing.

Because maybe it was.

ahh first mark oneshot 🙈 and first story in 2 months (IM SORRY) ermmm

TAGLIST: @anakinstwinklebunny @haydensheartt @fredswrite @dollfilmz @divineani @bxbyysstuff @loverforoldermen @weixuldo @sflame15-blog

ask to join!

[capcollector]

some VERYYYY messy concepts but i just needed to get something down. feat. arisbeth and ladybird (@uptownlowdown) as my models :)

the other day i was talking abt how much i always hated the outfits in fnv cus i refuse to believe not one showgirl or burlesque costume survived amidst a sea of suits and dresses, so here’s some basic ideas.

[atomspidyr]

She wants that cookie so effing bad. (wip?)

YKWHY! M/C but in the au where Mark and Eve end up together and they all remain friends except she's still deeply in love

...Just not with Mark.

[yukiicantdraw]

I just played Astronought and I just love Atom so much asifajfbadkfajsaf Short comic with spoilers ahead!!

Anyways I'm eepy now, goodbye

[eternalera]

been a while since i did some [TITLE CARD] ones :)

[tatiejosie]

Has Cecil seen Donald’s cat. Can the cat become a therapy animal for Donald.

KIWI MENTION ❗❗❗❗🥝🐈

Cecil has met her before, but Kiwi fucking hates him for no reason and will attempt to maul him anytime she gets the chance.

Donald is a bit out of his depth about this, because Kiwi is normally a very sweet cat and she's friendly with everyone! :((( So his initial reaction is to suspect that Cecil did something to upset her.

EVE BONUS!!

[im04]

I still don't know how to use Tumblr but I wanna dump these here before I can't :P Just a bunch of OCxCanon and the mushroom boi, just, yea

It's been about two weeks and Imma say I didn't realize I was this down bad for a walking fungus /pos

I dont know what else to say I just wanna share 'em and try to make some friends here cus I dont have friends in this fandom *sobs*

oh and here's a rough animatic I made, it's a mess, gets worse the longer you watch cus I stay up too late to make this with a clear mind lol

may contain ooc and some of my weird hc idk

[evisxerate]

hi im roach, 24, he/him, actual possum

im into pokemon, graffiti, zines, trains, bad music, furry, and other shit

no DNI, i dont give a shit abt discourse, i block if i feel the need to, 18+

ive got a lot of blogs around but my main sides are pokemon + plush + furry

[uracutieraka]

My dear Rex,

You never showed up, and now, after looking at the newspapers I understand why.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Angst no comfort. implied situationship. spoilers for S3.

Rex Sloan x F!reader

You and Rex had a falling out months ago, over something so severely stupid. In the moment it wasn't. But now that you're standing here looking down at the hole six feet deep into the ground? It was so stupid.

I don't imagine you will receive this letter but I nonetheless must send it.

Text after text, and still no response from him. It had been hours since he promised to be here.

'You only turn 20 once!' he had said before shutting your apartment door, heading off to fight some villain.

You had been sat on the curb of this super fancy restaurant that he swore by for at least two hours, in hopes that maybe, just maybe, he'd show.

Eventually the staff had to shoo you away like a dog. You cried the entire taxi ride back to your small studio.

Finally after hours of crying and drinking whatever leftover alcohol you had in your freezer you had knocked out on your bed.

You woke up to the feeling of your mattress sinking in, turning around, still drunk, you see Rex.

"What the fuck Rex?"

He winces and slowly opens one eye, looking over at you with a guilty smile.

"I know, I know..." He starts but you quickly throw the covers off of you and stand up, crossing your arms and glaring at him.

"You stood me up!"

He pouts and tries to reach out for you but you snatch your arm out of grip.

"No! Don't touch me!" Your words are slightly slurred and your vision begins to blur. How could he do this? On your birthday of all days?

"Hey, hey, I got caught up with Kate after work s'all..."

You now feel the tears spill down your face, Kate? The girl he used to have sex with?

"Kate?" Your voice is quiet when you ask, even though you only said one word he knows what the call of her name means.

"We just went out for a few drinks to catch up! She had a rough day and need a familiar shoulder to cry on."

He says it like it's just that simple! Like abandoning you on your special day was okay because his old fuck-buddy had a rough day.

"More like a familiar dick to hop on..."

Rex now quirks his brow up at you.

"Fuck did you just say?"

You look up from the floor and back at the man in front of you.

"I said," You make a point to sniffle and wipe your tears away before finishing. "More. Like. A. Fa-mil-iar dick. To. Hop. On."

Rex now scoffs and stands up, facing you from the other side of your bed.

"Are you serious right now Y/n?"

"Are you? You ghosted my on my birthday to get drinks with your old hookup!"

It's like realization sets in on his face when you say those words, and you feel your anger grow.

"You forgot it was my fucking birthday, didn't you?"

"Y/n I am so fucking so-"

"Forget it Rex. Forget all of it. Just get the fuck out."

You turn and sit on the edge of your mattress, facing away from him.

"You're kicking me out?" His voice is quiet, obviously hurt.

"I guess I am, yeah."

You don't look at him but you could practically see his face in your mind. The disappointed look he would have on it if you had turned around.

You just listen as he gathers his stuff and walks out your front door.

Rex, oh, Rex. I was just starting to dream the silliest and softest of dreams.

"Put me down!" Your laughter and shrieks fill the air of the quiet, secluded beach.

"Not happening sweetheart!" Rex lightly smacks the back of your thigh as he runs towards the ocean with you thrown over his shoulder, struggling to escape his strong grip.

Once his feet break through the surface of the salty water you know it's game over.

"Rex, don't!" You squeal as you're suddenly launched off his sturdy shoulder and flying down towards the coldness below you.

You pop back up a moment later, gasping and wiping water off your face. A laugh escapes your lips as you look over to Rex, who's clutching his sides in an attempt to calm down his own laughter.

"No, Rex, Don't throw me!" He mocks you.

"You're so annoying!" You say, though your words have no real malice behind them.

"Mmm, not too annoying if you kept me around this long though." He says, slowly making his way closer to you, wading through the water like a shark.

"Pretty annoying though..." Your voice is softer now as he closes the distance between you two, his large hands gripping your hips under the water and pulling you closer to him. You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he does this.

"Eh, debatable." He shrugs and gives you a dopey grin.

"Whatever..." You whisper before closing the distance, kissing him softly.

I miss you, and I will always miss you but I cannot live like that, and it seems you cannot live any other way.

"I can't just give this up Y/n!" Rex's voice booms through the small apartment.

"I did!" You look up at him from your spot on the couch. He's pacing around in front of you, running his hands through his hair, obviously frustrated.

"I'm not you! This is all I have!"

Silence fills the room and he stops pacing, looking back over to you.

"You have me..." Your voice is quiet and he quickly notices the way your voice cracks and falters.

"I know, I didn't mean it like that...," He now sits next to you, pulling you towards him. He kisses the top of your head before continuing. "This is just all I've ever known. I can't just quit."

"I know." You respond, because you did know. It was stupid to try and ask him to give up being a hero.

When I am with you, the world makes sense

Rex is sprawled out across your couch, lazily flipping through the channels on your television.

You're sat across from him, glasses low on your nose as you grumble to yourself about this pointless project you have due soon.

"You okay?"

You now look up and over to the sound of the voice. Rex is sitting up looking at you, eyes squinted to study your face.

"M'fine." You grumble and go back to stressing out over the assignment.

Rex sighs as he stands up and walks over to you. He stands behind you, one hand grabbing the back of your chair as the other lies flat against the cool surface of your table.

You lazily let your head lull back to look up at him.

"You gonna help me or something?" Your eyebrow pops up.

"Mmmm, maybe, or I'll just kiss you until you get annoyed and forget that I came over here to help you, because this shit looks complicated as fuck."

You just roll your eyes and pucker your lips expectantly.

He leans down and connects his with yours quickly. He repeats this action at least 15 more times before you shoo him back to the couch with a giggle and one more kiss 'for luck' you say.

but when we are apart, I see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape.

"Rex?" You call, your voice echoing off the barren walls of the hospital as you run, frantically looking around.

You run to the front desk, slamming your hands down against the linoleum.

"Rex? Where is Rex Splode- Sloan- fuck! What room is he in?" Your eyes are wide and your obviously frazzled. The lady behind the desk is quickly trying to figure out what room the man was in when a voice stops the both of you in your tracks.

"Y/n."

You turn around slowly, anger seeping off you.

"Cecil..." You begin stepping towards the old man.

"Y/n." Another hand grabs your shoulder and when you turn to smack whoever thought it was okay to touch you, you don't.

"Rex! Oh my god! You're okay!" You throw yourself into his arms.

"I'm okay. I'm okay..." He strokes the back of your head as you sob into his shirt. He shares a knowing look with Cecil before pulling you off of him.

"Let's go somewhere private to talk, yeah?"

You nod and follow him as he leads you through the sterile halls.

That's how you two ended up here.

"You're really giving us," you point between you and him a few times "up because Cecil told you to?"

He groans and grabs his face with his hands.

"No! I'm going away for a while because I need to focus on my work..."

You just grab your purse and shove past him. He calls after you but you turn around quickly.

"Just, call me whenever you're done 'working on yourself' or whatever it was you called it." With a flick of your hand to dismiss him, you walk off and he just watches as your figure disappears.

I am so sorry, for everything long ago and for starting up that business again. 

Rex's phone has been ringing for the past ten minutes. He groans when he realizes it probably wasn't going to stop until he answers it.

His heart drops when he sees your contact on the screen. He hadn't seen it in months.

"Hello?" He says quizzically into the speaker.

Music thumps in his ears loudly and suddenly your voice breaks through.

"Rex? Hello?"

His breath hitches, he hadn't heard your voice since the day in the hospital.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Oh, thank god!," You let out what he assumes is a choked sob. "Can you come get me? I-I'm at some club and I'm drunk and this guy I came with just left me here because I told him I didn't want anything serious!"

That's all Rex needed to hear. He was there in 20 minutes.

He finds you sitting on the sidewalk next to the bouncer.

You look up at him as he approaches and his heart breaks at the sight.

Your hair is shorter than when he last saw you, and your makeup is smeared all over your face.

Your eyes light up as you see him and you struggle to get up.

"Rex!" You say as you throw yourself into his arms. He stumbles back a bit before grabbing your waist and pulling you off him.

"How much have you had to drink?"

You just frown at him and instead of answering his question your hands find their way to his hair, pushing it behind his ear and out of his face.

"Missed you." You say and he sighs, moving to wrap his arm around your waist. He leads you back to his car and helps you in.

On the drive he sneaks small glances at you. Your head is leaned against his window as you have your eyes closed, humming to the sound of music that's softly playing on the radio.

You were so beautiful, how could he ever give you up for work?

He's going to make it up to you and prove himself this time.

There's a good man within you Rex, but he is wrestling with a giant, and the giant wins. Time and again.

"Are you serious?" Your words slice through the air like knives and Rex jumps at the sudden noise.

"Y/n! It's not what you think!" Kate says.

Rex slides off her and rushes over to you.

"Not what I think? I think you and Rex were just fucking on my couch while I was at work!"

Kate looks down at her lap in shame as you scoff and push Rex away from you.

"You're both whores." You say, pushing your way towards your bedroom.

"Get the hell out of my apartment." You say before your bedroom door slams shut.

You've broken my heart, again and I fear I have broken yours.

"Rex, you should just leave..." Your voice is hoarse and raw, eyes swollen and face red from crying.

"Please, fuck- please don't make me." Rex sobs out, obviously drunk.

"You're drunk a-and I just can't deal with this right now."

"I'm sorry I forgot your birthday! And for the Kate shit! And all of it! Please, please, please."

You sigh at the desperate man at your door step.

"Rex, I don't even know what you're begging for."

"You." His answer is quick, and his eyes are bloodshot and wide.

"Go home Rex." You shut the door in his face, ignoring the way he keeps knocking and begging for you to open it.

Rex never came by again after that.

For that, I will never forgive myself but you must let me go now.

"Rex has been seeing Rae for a bit now, but I'm pretty sure they're trying to keep it a secret."

Your friend Rudy's voice seems to trail off as he continues talking about the rest of his team, filling you in on updates of their lives since you had been too busy between work and school to stop by yourself.

"Wait- Rex is with Rae?" You shake your head and put your hand out as a bewildered look is on your face.

"Y-yes...Y/n? Are you okay?" Rudy asks, looking at you closely.

"Yeah, I'm fine.," You say taking a sip of your coffee. "Good for them."

I enclose a ring you gave me many years ago, when we were both young, not because I don't like it, but because I care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you. 

You look down at the giant hole in the ground where the coffin is now lowered in.

You run your fingers over the smooth material of the envelope in your hand.

With one last look you toss it in, it clinks against the hard wood and you watch as it slides off, wedging itself in the crack between the wood and dirt.

"What was that?" Rudy whispers to you once you finally look away from the coffin and make your way over to the group.

You softly smile at the memory that play though your mind.

"The mood ring's Rex had gotten for us during some mission, I thought they were dumb but he, uhm...," Your voice cracks as tears well up. "He said that it was only dumb if we thought about it too hard." You dryly chuckle, barely being able to get the words out.

Rudy just nods in understanding.

You look back one more time before making your way out of the cemetery.

I hope, one day you will find some people in love who can use this, for it kept me thinking of you all these years, and I hope by returning it to you I can finally be free.

goodbye,

Y/n

[sovlstr]

There’s something wrong with me

[papoochu]

Okay, next on my list is Dr. Leo Anders, formerly known as Levko Andriienko. He would be a great conversationalist!

I'm going to go back and make minor changes to some of the bios that are already up (just color corrections and making sure everything is updated), so just letting y'all know!

Background

Born Levko Andriienko

Levko = means “lion,” representing strength, courage, and a fierce will to survive (ironic)

Diminutive form - implies a boyhood identity, or something emotionally vulnerable.

Andriienko = Ukrainian surname from Dnipropetrovsk region, symbolizing resilience and intellectual tradition; rooted in family and place, it connects him to the past

In Soviet context, his full name subtly marked him as "not quite Moscow"

Born 1933, in Dnipropetrovsk, Ukrainian USSR, into a modest family of engineers and educators

Showed early aptitude for physics, studied nuclear science in Moscow during the 1950s

Raised with strong faith in Soviet ideals, believed in science as a tool for progress and societal good

Chernobyl Disaster (1986):

Senior scientific advisor involved in emergency response at Chernobyl nuclear plant

Was one of the scientists who proposed the use of boron compounds to absorb neutrons and limit radioactive fallout, a key but little-known intervention

Witnessed firsthand Soviet government secrecy, misinformation, and chaos during crisis management

Worked as one of the liquidators who was not compensated properly

Exposed to high levels of radiation, suffering long-term health consequences

Deeply traumatized by the disaster and the suffering of victims, burdened by survivor’s guilt

Post-Disaster Years:

Emigrated to Graubünden, Switzerland soon after the disaster, rejecting the Soviet system and Ukrainian identity publicly

Chose Switzerland due to its priority of safety in science field as well as for its advanced healthcare

Changed his name to Leo Anders

Shedding a name with history for one that sounds clean, Western, untraceable

“Leo” is still “lion,” but now generic - a hollow echo of his true self

“Anders” is Scandinavian/Germanic - means “different” or “other”

Lived in relative isolation; worked on independent research, disconnected from official scientific communities

Physically weakened by chronic radiation sickness: fatigue, thyroid problems, neurological symptoms, lung deterioration

Haunted by memories and guilt, avoided public attention and political engagement

The Council’s Contact (1988):

Approached by the council

Initially skeptical, but accepted their offer for renewed purpose and resources

Began advising the Council on sensitive, secret projects with far-reaching ambitions

Bound by secrecy and loyalty, conflicted over his role and the Council’s shadow agenda

Life in Switzerland and Personal Struggles:

Experiences recurring nightmares and PTSD symptoms tied to Chernobyl trauma

Has obsessive behaviors and is very concerned with health/safety

Torn between hope for positive change and fear of complicity in the Council’s morally ambiguous plans

Uses work as a custodian of classified scientific and nuclear data for the Swiss government to channel his need for control and order (irony)

Present Day (2016):

Age 83, physically frail but mentally razor-sharp, a man who exerts power through knowledge and control

Custodian of classified nuclear and scientific data for the Swiss government, guarding secrets that could unravel nations - or rebuild them

"Order and method are his Gods" - Agatha Christie about Hercule Poirot

Every piece of information is meticulously cataloged and controlled to maintain a fragile balance

Obsessed with control and precision, he micromanages access to information like a vigilant, overbearing guardian - protecting the world from chaos, even if it means suffocating it

Deeply cares about the world’s survival, but his care manifests as relentless interference - an unyielding “helicopter parent” who won’t let anything deviate from his plan

Ruthlessly pragmatic, he believes the ends justify the means; innocent casualties and moral compromises are unfortunate but necessary collateral in his vision of stability

Haunted by his trauma at Chernobyl, he projects his guilt into a compulsive need to prevent further disasters through absolute order

Uses his position to manipulate political players and shadowy organizations, ensuring no secret slips, no chaos erupts

His “children” are watched closely and corrected swiftly

Lives behind layers of secrecy and detachment

Privately struggles with the suffocating burden of his responsibility and his inability to truly protect those he cares for

Design Notes/Character Study

Mirror to Victor Serdtsev

Both academics around the same age who were under the USSR but each turned out VERY different

Inverted color schemes

Take design points and swap them

Holds a handkerchief for his mild hemoptysis

Hunched

Shaky hands

Obsessive behaviors

See Poirot for reference

Very concerned with health and safety

"Helicopter parenting" - authoritative ideology comes from care, not apathy

Associations with Boron: Boron has 3 valence electrons, like the symbol on the atom

Years in isolation made him awkward in social environments

Formally dressed, but with a deeply casual, cerebral, sometimes haunted energy; rumpled, disheveled

Neutral palette

References: President Snow, David Attenborough, Richard Feynman, Noam Chomsky, Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy in Oppenheimer)

Time has not been kind - emphasize his age

Speaks Romansh

Pictured:

Reference to Gloria Ramirez tragedy: emphasizes his ideals of utilitarianism

Reference to Polonium-210 assassination: ironic given his hatred towards the Soviet Union

Assigned a brown color scheme: he is stuck in the past despite his attempts to leave it

[atomra]

Here is some more Vladcard and Atom! Vladtom? Vlatom? 🤔 Either way, enjoy! 😊💙