#science poly !!!

[banesberry-anomoly]

Science poly on tha whiteboard

[shalmonsdraws]

where there's a (vine)whip

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Winning coalitions aren't always governing coalitions

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/06/how-the-sausage-gets-made/#governing-is-harder

Winning an election is easier than it looks: all you have to do is convince a bunch of different groups that you will use power to achieve their desires. Bonus points if you can convince groups with mutually exclusive goals that you'll deliver for them – the coalition of "people who disagree about everything" is hard to assemble, but it sure is large!

Politically, a "conservative" is someone who believes that there is a small group of people who were born to rule, and a much larger group of people who were born to be ruled over. As Corey Robin writes in The Reactionary Mind, this is the one trait that unifies all the disparate strains of conservative thought: imperialists, monarchists, capitalists, white supremacists, misogynists, Christian nationalists, Hindu nationalists and supporters of Israeli genocide in Palestine:

https://coreyrobin.com/books/the-reactionary-mind/

These groups all agree that power should be hierarchical, that your position in a hierarchy is something you're born with, and that letting people who were "meant" to be at the bottom of the hierarchy rise to the top puts society so out of balance that it's actually a threat to human survival. That's why conservatives of all stripes get so furious about "DEI" – any kind of affirmative action program serves as a defective sorting hat, putting the incompetent and unsuitable into positions of power over other peoples' lives. It's why "DEI" is the go-to scapegoat for any kind of disaster, including giant ships crashing into bridges:

https://www.axios.com/local/salt-lake-city/2024/03/26/baltimore-bridge-dei-utah-lawmaker-phil-lyman-misinformation

But while conservatives all agree that some of us are born to be in charge and others are born to be bossed around by our innate superiors, they have irreconcilable differences about who is meant to be in charge. British imperialists who pine for the Raj have views that are fundamentally at odds with the views of Hindu nationalists. They're both "conservative" movements, but they're actually bitter enemies.

For a conservative movement to win power, it has to convince the people whom it would relegate to the bottom of the hierarchy to support that goal (AKA "getting turkeys to vote for Christmas"); and it must convince other conservatives that they will be able to establish a hierarchy that accommodates multiple, co-equal ruling elites.

The first tactic is well-established. LBJ summed it up neatly:

If you can convince the lowest white man he's better than the best colored man, he won't notice you're picking his pocket. Hell, give him somebody to look down on, and he'll empty his pockets for you.

The second one requires far more tactical thinking. Some elite groups are able to form coalitions by carving out exclusive zones: think of the friendly feeling among Modi, Orban, Erdogan, bin Salman, Trump, Milei, et al. These people all aspire to dictatorship, all espouse their superior blood – a source of personal and racial superiority – and hypothetically all believe that the world would be better if everyone (including their foreign counterparts) would take their orders.

One way to resolve this tension is to carve up the world geographically, which is why so many despots who seized power by promising to build ethno-states can co-exist with one another and even cheer one another on. Let Orban have Hungary, give Turkey to Erdogan, and let Bibi Netanyahu annex all of Gaza. Sure, in their hearts of hearts, each of these men secretly believe themselves to be racially and personally superior to the others, but so long as they all stay out of one another's turf, there's no reason to make a big deal out of that.

Another way to resolve this tension is to carve up the world temporally: think of the alliance between Christian nationalists and Israeli genocidiers. In the USA, "Christian Zionists" outnumber Jews who identify as Zionists:

https://www.trtworld.com/magazine/qanda-for-every-1-jewish-zionist-there-are-30-christian-zionists-and-netanyahu-exploits-this-15656249

But Christian Zionists aren't philosemites. They hate Jews and believe that we are all going to hell for murdering Christ. Their support for Israel isn't grounded in a belief in the necessity of a Jewish ethno-state – it arises out of the apocalyptic belief that Christ will return once Jews "return to the Holy Land" – albeit only briefly, before being cast into a lake of fire for all eternity.

Like British imperialists and the Hindu nationalists, Christian Zionists and Jewish Zionists are not on the same side. However, unlike British imperialists and Hindu nationalists, Christian Zionists and Jewish Zionists want the same thing…for a while. Both groups support the establishment of a Jewish entho-state in Israel, they just differ sharply as to what happens after that comes to pass. So long as they don't dwell on that moment in the future, they can stand shoulder to shoulder, fighting together for an Israeli state that operates with absolute US support and total international impunity.

Coalitions who defer the question of how they'll use power to after they've gained power are using time (rather than space) as a buffer that keeps their differences from smashing together until they shatter. But time and space aren't the only buffers for the differences between coalition partners – there's also class.

"Class" has been the most important, most useful buffer for conservativism since the Reagan revolution. Reagan came to power by forging an alliance with evangelicals, whose cult leaders had historically demanded that members focus their energies (and cash donations) on the church, while avoiding politics as "worldly."

Reagan promised the Christian right a bunch of culture war stuff – bans on abortion, punishment for uppity women and racial minorities, prayer in school, segregation academies, etc – that his financial backers frankly didn't give a shit about. By all means, let working class evangelicals homeschool their kids and teach them that the Earth is 5,000 years old, it doesn't matter to Wall Street, who will reap a giant tax-cut and also send their kids to private schools with rigorous curriculum. Bankers' wives and daughters will always be able to afford to fly out of state (or across the border) for abortion care, they will never die of AIDS in the charity wing of a community hospital, their daughters won't be trapped by bans on no-fault divorces.

For the past 40 years, American oligarchs and would-be oligarchs have entered into enthusiastic coalitions with virulently racist, sexist and homophobic groups, and maintained peace within their coalition by passing punitive, cruel laws that the rich can buy their way around. For many self-styled libertarians, the most important liberty is "not paying taxes" and this subordinates all other liberties, such that a "libertarian" will vote for a coalition whose platform promises to ban abortion, birth control, "interracial" marriage, and queer sex, so long as it also promises tax cuts. It's a weird kind of pro-freedom ideology that happily trades away (others') freedom for (your own) tax cuts:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/29/jubilance/#tolerable-racism

Remember, Trump's first CPAC speech was sponsored by Goproud, a group of "fiscally responsible" gay Republicans who believed in gay rights, sure, but not as much as they believed in getting so rich that even if poor gay people were ground into dust, they could float above it all:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/GOProud

Class is the third buffer between the oligarchs of the right and the mass movement that provides the bulk for winning elections. After all, laws are for the little people, so by all means, we can promise – and even deliver – laws that we would never submit to, because we don't have to submit to them. This is Wilhoit's Law in action:

Conservatism consists of exactly one proposition, to wit: There must be in-groups whom the law protects but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francis_M._Wilhoit#Wilhoit's_law

In a hierarchical society, class separates groups of people just as rigidly as time and space, and is every bit as useful a buffer as the other two forces.

Until it isn't.

Eventually – once you've banned abortion, once you've taken all the "controversial" books out of the library, once you've made affirmative action illegal – you reach the layer of non-negotiable culture war demands that the rich can't buy their way out of.

Like immigration.

Let's start with this: immigration doesn't have to result in wage suppression. Couple immigration with strong unions and a muscular labor rights regime and workers do just great. The more the merrier! America needs workers of every kind. What's more, the unions and labor laws in America owe their existence to immigrant workers, so there's nothing about immigration that is necessarily incompatible with winning rights for workers.

But the possibility of importing some overseas union organizers isn't what motivates the finance wing of the conservative coalition to demand "guest-worker" programs like the H1B visa:

https://twitter.com/RobertMSterling/status/1873175206073626660

H1B visas are "non-immigrant" visas, meaning that they are designed not to offer any path to permanent residence or citizenship. You can live in the US for a long time on an H1B, but you are bound over to your employer like a serf bound to a feudal estate: if you lose your job, you lose your right to abide in the country. That can mean losing your house, your car, your kids' school and friends. It can cost your spouse their job, because if you're kicked out of the country, they might well leave along with you, rather than remain alone here.

H1B tech workers are the workers that tech-barons have dreamt of for decades. An H1B worker can't job-hop, and so needn't be lured to work with gourmet cafeterias, luxury gymnasiums, or other perks of the whimsical tech "campus." H1B workers can't quit if they don't like their stock-options packages:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/10/the-proletarianization-of-tech-workers/

Tech bosses hate tech workers, and they always have. It's not affection that causes Jeff Bezos to allow his coders to come to work with pink mohawks, facial piercings, and black t-shirts that say things their bosses don't understand, while his delivery drivers piss in bottles and his warehouse workers are injured at three times the national average. Jeff Bezos neither cherishes his coders' kidneys, nor is he especially hostile to delivery drivers' need to pee – he just squeezes any and every worker in any and every way he can.

Same for Tim Cook: the accomplishment that prompted Apple's board to elevate Cook to Steve Jobs' CEO office was the successful transfer of iPhone manufacturing to China. Specifically, Cook figured out how to work with his primary supplier, Foxconn, to create a working environment that produced reliable, precision-manufactured mobile devices, and all it took was creating a working environment so brutal that the company had to install suicide nets to catch the factory workers who couldn't stand it any longer:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2017/jun/18/foxconn-life-death-forbidden-city-longhua-suicide-apple-iphone-brian-merchant-one-device-extract

Apple's tech workers aren't worked to suicidal desperation, sure – but not because Tim Cook likes coders and hates factory workers. It's because he's afraid coders will quit, and he's not worried about replacing factory workers after they jump to their death.

The point of the H1B program is to create a tech workforce that bosses no longer have to fear. Recall that when Elon Musk took over Twitter and circulated a mandatory "extremely hardcore" pledge that demanded that workers promise to subordinate their health and wellbeing to his profits, it prompted a mass departure, with the notable exception of workers whose immigration status (and/or insurance for serious health issues) depended on their ongoing employment at Twitter:

https://www.theverge.com/2022/11/16/23462026/elon-musk-twitter-email-hardcore-or-severance

When Musk's cronies gloated about shedding 20% of Twitter's workforce on "day zero," the workers they had in mind were the ones who didn't fear their bosses and wouldn't frog when the investor class shouted jump. "Sharpen your blades, boys" means we're slicing off workers who are laboring under the misapprehension that they are entitled to a say in their working conditions:

https://techcrunch.com/2022/09/29/elon-musk-texts-discovery-twitter/

After all, America does not have a tech worker shortage. The US tech sector fired 260,000 skilled workers in 2023, and more than 150,000 were shown the door in 2024. When Musk and his fellow tech bosses complain that they need more "talent," what they mean is they need workers who are so terrified of being deported that they'll accept low wages, sleep under their desks, refuse to talk to union organizers, and, above all, do as they're told:

https://youtube.com/shorts/N0FkyXFhmpo?si=GCh6bFqd31prazhz

Trump won office by promising mutually exclusive outcomes to different parts of his coalition. To the nativists and bigots (and workers who'd bamboozled into thinking that their low salaries were the fault of other workers, not their bosses), he promised a halt to immigration. To the plutocrats, he promised a large and pliable workforce – of low-waged agricultural workers and of precarious H1B tech workers who'd discipline America's "entitled" tech workers:

https://prospect.org/labor/2025-01-02-president-musk-american-workers-h1b-visas/

Now, he has to figure out how to keep everyone happy. Literally: the Speakership of Congress is only nine votes away from collapsing at any time (and until last week, it was just one vote away), and without Congress, Trump's ability to govern will be severely curtailed (see, for example, 2018-2020).

Immigration isn't an issue like abortion: oligarchs can support abortion bans and still procure abortions when they need them. It's much harder to support an immigration ban and still procure precarious, low-waged workers for your business. It will take many years for American-born workers to be so brutalized and broken that they capitulate to the working conditions that American guest workers and undocumented workers accept, and bosses are impatient.

It's hard to put on a convincing performance of banning immigration, as the UK's New Labour discovered. In the years leading up to the 2010 election, Labour – under Blair and then Brown – made a big show of "cracking down on immigration." At one point, Home Secretary Jacqui Smith announced that she was axing dozens of UK visa categories, while carefully not mentioning these were so niche that hardly anyone qualified for them. This created chaos for the people affected and their families – I lost my own "Highly Skilled Migrant" visa at this time and we had to move our wedding plans up by eight months so I could stay in the country with my British partner and our daughter – but it didn't do anything to quench the xenophobic rage that UKIP and the Tories had been stoking, and Labour lost its next election.

American conservatives are rightly proud of their ability to form coalitions. They trumpet their ethic of "no enemies to the right" and contrast this with the "cancel culture" of progressives:

https://www.wired.com/story/the-year-democrats-lost-the-internet/

It's true that purging your ranks of coalition partners who disagree with you at the margins is a severely self-limiting move. It's also true that the broader your coalition is, the easier it is to win power.

The right has built a coalition of people who want opposite things. Infamously, Project 2025 isn't just a collection of terrifying ideas for running (and ruining) America – it's a collection of mutually exclusive terrifying ideas for running and ruining America:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/14/fracture-lines/#disassembly-manual

Trump's top health picks – RFK jr, Weldon, Oz, Makary, Bhattacharya, Nesheiwat – want mutually exclusive, irreconcilable things that are as impossible to compromise on as "banning immigration" while simultaneously "expanding the H1B program":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/20/clinical-trial-by-ordeal/#spoiled-his-brand-new-rattle

Big, diverse coalitions of people who normally oppose each other are great for winning power, but they're very bad for wielding power. Trump's majorities in Congress and the Senate are razor-thin, and while the Democrats had to suffer under the Manchin-Synematic Universe, the GOP's Klown Kar of Krazies has dozens of swivel-eyed loons who will happily blow up "must-pass" bills just for shits and giggles.

What's more, the GOP has spent decades installing easily blown circuit breakers into the American legislative and administrative systems, from the filibuster to the debt ceiling. By design, these allow small groups of lawmakers to kill bills and hamstring presidential power. Trump's first attempt at removing one of these breakers – the senseless kabuki of the annual debt ceiling showdown – was a total failure:

https://prospect.org/blogs-and-newsletters/tap/2024-12-19-debt-limit-should-absolutely-be-eliminated/

Musk thinks he can ram through policies that sizable portions of the GOP coalition would rather die than support. So far, Trump has proven a pliable puppet for Musk's ambitions. But the Musk-Trump coalition is every bit as fragile as any other in the GOP, and Trump is notoriously sensitive to accusations of weakness. Musk can threaten to primary any GOP lawmaker who gets in his way, but as the Kochs discovered after they unleashed the Tea Party, grievance-fueled, paranoid, heavily armed cults are hard to keep on a leash.

The coming months are sure to be an all-out war of GOP infighting as the coalition must wield power without the useful buffers of space, time and class. They'll be an object lesson in the dangers of a coalition that's so broad that everyone is welcome, even people who'd happily line you and yours in front of a firing squad.

But just because the right's attitude to coalitions is to have a mind so open its brains fall out, that doesn't mean the left should pursue a program of overwhelming ideological purity. Trump is a stupid guy with incoherent ideas, but look at how far he got by erecting such a big tent that anyone fit underneath it (even actual Nazis).

The progressive coalition doesn't need to be that big. We can have enemies to the right. The hugs Kamala Harris bestowed on ghouls like Liz Cheney didn't win the election, and the medal Biden just gave her won't help either:

https://www.nytimes.com/2025/01/02/us/politics/presidential-citizens-medal-liz-cheney.html

Manchin and Synema can "fuck off until they come up to a gate with a sign saying 'You Can’t Fuck Off Past Here,' Climb over the gate, dream the impossible dream, and keep fucking off forever":

https://michaelmarshallsmith.substack.com/about

But the fact that some people don't belong in a progressive coalition, it doesn't follow that there's no room to make the coalition looser and broader. Sure, a big coalition makes it hard to wield power, but without that coalition, we'll never win power.

[navy-leader]

Meowwwwwwwww

[entofieldnotes]

Thai Spiky Isopod

Family: Armadillidae Scientific Name: Isopoda sp. Adults : 0.5-1.2 cm

Just look at their little spikes!!! 😍 I didn't know the family name of these little potato bugs/rolly pollies (New York names) until a few days ago and I can't stop saying it.

Armadillidae. (arm-uh-dilly-day) It's really just the -dillidae that gets me. 😆

A lot of the information out there has more to do with keeping them in terrariums so I'm still on the lookout for more "scientific" information. 🤔

[amanufacturedheaven]

Political Woman.

25/05/25

My academic year has officially concluded.

Life Updates

I've started my job in politics

I was asked to apply to run for Mayor

I drink 5 double-shot iced lattes a day now (my left arm hurts)

I'm beginning to outline my proposals for my dissertations (yes, I mean for that to be plural)

[soil-is-alive]

Isopods, aka roly-polies or pill bugs, - tiny crustaceans with BIG impacts

They’re detritivores, meaning they feast on dead and decaying organic matter—like fallen leaves, wood, and even fungi. 🍂🥀🪵

Here’s why they’re vital for our soil:

🌱 Nutrient Recycling: As they munch through plant material, they break it down into smaller particles, speeding up the decomposition process. This enriches the soil with vital nutrients that plants need to thrive.

🔄 Carbon Cycling: By decomposing organic material, isopods play a key role in the carbon cycle, helping store carbon in the soil and reducing carbon loss to the atmosphere.

🌍 Soil Aeration: While burrowing and feeding, isopods loosen compacted soil, improving oxygen flow and creating a healthier environment for plant roots and microorganisms.

Found on every continent except Antarctica, isopods thrive in forests, gardens, and even urban environments. 🌟 Wherever there’s organic matter to break down, these hardworking decomposers are on the job!

So next time you see an isopod, give it some love! 🤍 They’re working hard to keep our soil alive and thriving. 🌿

[dhddmods]

People who follow us know the drill already! Another design!

Everyone is free to use this design on shirts, stickers, pins, whatever they'd like, as long as they are using it for inclusive purposes! Just don't claim it as your own, please.

The first is transparent, the second has a background for viewing purposes.

If this design feels familiar to you, its because we made it in the past. But we redesigned it, because we learned from @status-quo-hater that the h-slur is inappropriate to use, even in reference to snails, slugs, and similar species. So now we have updated it to be cosexed instead! So sorry about the past slur usage.

Note: This design is NOT in support of "sexed brains." The comment about brains and reproductive systems developing at different times is meant to communicate that those things are NOT correlated, as in, there's no such thing as a "male" or "female" brain, and sex traits do not correlate with psychological gender.

(Also, please check out and reblog our recently updated intersex guide!)

Check out our other designs:

I support equality always

Attraction is individual, not societal

A-specs unite

Intersex people exist

Gender and sex are spectrums

Nobody chooses their sex or gender

Non-binary is an umbrella term

Racial equality matters

All disabilities matter

Support all neurodivergence

Stop demonizing neurodivergence (pt 1)

[choking-on-ice]

okay so yk how I said Jimmy would make a great semi-oblivious shoujo anime protag? well here's my proof! lookit him! he was built for it!

SO much "I can fix them, I can save them from themselves" energy just to be met with "I will crush mountains and boild seas to have him, we will rule this scorched earth together" shot right back at him from both sides

(also I know Kara's eyes are blue canonically, but Kryptonians seem to change eye colour alot based on their power usage so I headcanon that her eyes would be a bright glowy red bc of how often she uses her more destructive powers)

[banesberry-anomoly]

Got reminded that I never posted what I painted a few weeks ago

First SkyStarJack fanart ever probably

RAHHHH DECEPTICON LOGO WITH FLAMES and some sona art

I thought this was cool as hell. Soundwave lighting up on da helmet

And finally, the gooplet from @mattastr0phic

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

I can see Squid Game season 2 being used as a tool by political science professors to teach their course (for the record, I am a poli sci graduate). What I mean is:

1) The group that is voting for their survival are being held hostage by the group that is voting only for their self-interest (tyranny of the majority).

2) It’s not black-and-white as to why people make their choices on whether to leave or stay. Hyun-ju is an O, but she only voted to stay because of her medical expenses. Meanwhile, shitty old guy 100 is there because he wants the money for himself. As for the X’s, we still like Jung-bae but we understood why he was an O at one point. Myung-gi/MG Coin isn’t that sympathetic due to his past actions as a cryptobro, but you understand that he’s not completely awful since he genuinely cares for Jun-hee and their baby. (the political spectrum not being a perfect binary system)

3) Front Man genuinely believes the games and prize money are good since it’s a way for the poor and unfortunate to rise out of their situation (capitalism). He also believes it’s pointless to convince the contestants to vote for their survival as people are inherently selfish and will choose themselves before anyone else (Thomas Hobbes).

Gi-hun, the former political activist who was part of a workers protest, is appalled at how the poor and unfortunate are treated by the rich and powerful. He believes the games are corrupt and that the money he won from the previous game is cursed since it’s the result of the exploitation and murders of his fellow contestants (communism). He also believes that it’s worth trying to reach out to the O’s since he believes that people are inherently good and cooperative, which we also saw in S1 when the homeless man was saved by a group of strangers (Jean-Jacques Rousseau).

[bunnnyyysssblogxo]

make empathy sexy again

[waitingforthet]

Matt Scientist and Eve L’Genius Go to the Unethical Super Science Fair: I know I already posted this but it didn’t have a name then

[boolger]

The science of love 🌙 ch 4

Call of Duty AU ✨ Poly!141 x Nikolai x hybrid!Reader ✨ MDNI ✨ Explicit ✨ ao3

<- last chapter x next chapter ->

Tags: F!reader, hybrid reader, description of former torture, dubcon and noncon, rape, hybrid!people being kept as pets, Call of duty alternative universe, dark, angst to comfort, kinda in a fucked up way ya know, punishments, spanking, mistreatment and abuse to hybrids, the dove is dead, or at least its close to death, heat/mating cycles (no omegaverse), no pregnancy, reader knows how to stand up for herself, anger issues, animal tails and ears, trauma, violence, angst, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, threesome, orgy basically, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, piss kink, reader has a pussy, chubby!reader, hurt!reader, pet names, a couples of OCs here and there, gotta add some extra backgrounds character ya know, vague mentions of a character’s death in the past (it’s Roach. Sorry Roach lovers.)

A/n: ahem, this one is angsty, remember the tags. Also Angus Macgyver and Jack Dalton from Macgyver 2016 kinda appears in this chapter and i have no other excuse than the fact that i love them. Mwah.

💫✨💫✨💫

“How did you learn all of this?”

“You mean how can I be smart and be a hybrid?” You asked back sarcastically, watching the woman who in return looked back at you like she was bored, so you added a snappy “are you also amazed by the fact that I can read and spell, lady?”

By the look that grew on her face, you were pretty sure she was as annoyed at you, as you were with her.

“Behave.” It was a simple word coming from the grim reaper in the corner, yet it was a strong warning. You were honestly relieved that you were still too beat up to be actually punished… because you were pretty sure it might involve a spanking or perhaps running rounds on a field, as if you were one of their small privates.

You let out a tired sigh, tipping your one good hybrid ear towards the woman, who had introduced herself as Kate Laswell a little earlier.

You had seen her before, yet you hadn’t really cared about her - you tried not to care about any of them. Despite the collar still resting around your neck, you were not going to stay around.

As for Laswell, you had a suspicion that she wasn’t going to leave without any answers - and you didn’t really have any urge to spill many secrets.

“I learned it the way everyone learns things. From being taught and through trial and error,” you finally replied, crossing your still bandaged hands, “but I assume you want to know who exactly taught me?”

“Yes.”

“A scientist.”

“Kitty.” The warning tone was back. It was still an awful name, chosen without your consent. As always. You gave him a nasty look, rolled your eyes before continuing.

“Fine, fine - when they first took me, there were several scientists around. I knew how to read beforehand, so I was their assistant for a while, learning how to do certain things.”

“Did your owner sell you to them?”

You snapped your mouth shut again. You leant back in the bed some more, ears tipping backwards a little. Some things were better left in the past. Your tail rose a little, but you knew there was not much scary about you right now.

“Listen, we cannot help you wi—“

“With what? I’m not going back to any of my former owners and I don’t really wanna stay with Jack Skeleton either.”

“You are walking the line—“ said skeleton man began but you merely ignored him, cutting him off.

”They’re dead - all of the scientists are dead! What good will it do for me to tell you?” You snarled at the woman, ears tipping backwards in anger, “You knowing who they were, can never bring them back! I lived with them for ten years! Do you have any idea what it’s like to be the last one standing now? And I’m not even a human, I’m not even considered a person! I’m even less than they ever were, even when captured!”

The room was silent for two heartbeats and the anger that made you growl out the truth, disappeared again.

You closed your mouth, immediately regretting everything you had just said, all of the details you had let slip. A deep growl left you, as the woman took a couple of notes; the urge to jump up and take the notebook was big, rip the pages about you apart with your teeth, while snarling like a feral dog.

Maybe even swallowing a couple of the pieces, just for good measure. You could feel saliva collecting in your mouth, teeth baring, your body beginning to tense up, ready to jump and-

”Behave,” Ghost took a hold of your collar, giving it a little tug towards him - when the fuck had he even moved? - his hand didn’t hurt you, instead it moved to gently run along your shaved head, making you freeze as he scratched the spot behind one of your ears, “thank you for telling us, Kitty, but no growling.”

”Go fuck yourself.” You muttered, making the giant huff.

”So, you’re at least 20, I presume?” She asked but you looked away, down at the duvet and then at your bandaged ankle. You had let too much slip. Much of the information they would figure out along the way, but still. You didn’t like this.

She turned a few pages in a file, then spoke again, as if you hadn’t fully ignored her question.

”There are mentions of a Dr. B. Agerdrup - a biologist and chemist - together with a Dr. K. Peko, a surgeon and described as an expert in blood experiments,” Laswell said and you stared down at the duvet covering your lower body, “Did you meet them?”

You ignored her. Ignored Ghost as he gave your human ear a little tug, in an attempt to get a reaction from you

Laswell took a file from beneath her notepad, rummaging through a couple of pages.

”Throughout the years of the files, a person appears regularly, only going by the name Dog, sometimes just D,” Laswell continued, her voice calm, “Am I right to assume that this is you?”

You tried not remembering their faces, yet they flashed by as you closed your eyes; you remembered their names, their ages, their voices. The way their hands felt when they stroked your cheek or how they would all attempt to keep the guards from you.

You still knew how they liked their coffee or tea and their different, preferred ways of taking notes.

It was the memories of them smiling, when they had told you about their life outside, about how they had all been promised to let go after you all finished the project. The moment they could create the serums together, and finish the weapons, they would all be free - you included.

Angus, sweet and kind Angus, had promised he would bring you with him, so that you wouldn’t just be sold to somebody. That he would make sure you could get a nice life with him and his longtime boyfriend, who was out in the world somewhere, no doubt still looking for his fiance. He had proposed, just before they took Angus.

He promised you a life with them, a promise and a dream that kept you going, both of you, throughout the years. A life with love, without pain. A life where you could be happy, maybe go somewhere else in the world together with him… have your own room, your own safe space. Never be chained again. A life where you could love who you wanted, touch who you wanted, be loved, be…

The two people in the room kept talking, but you weren’t hearing them, not really. In your mind you were together with Angus and the other scientists, walking on a beach in Italy, like one of them, one of the sweetest women you had ever met, had talked about. Going to her hometown, a small Italian village, enjoy the warmth of the sun. You would all have sand between your toes, Agerdrup would grumble about it, Kenny would try to push Angus into the water, his fiance trying to save him, Beatrice almost falling over with laughter, and you would chase seagulls all day long.

Hands cradled your face and for a moment, a short moment, you were convinced it was Angus, who did so; that he was alive, that it was his hands, warm and gentle, touching you while telling you something completely meaningless, so you didn’t get too lost in your thoughts.

Even when Angus had been dying, he had kept promising that all of you would leave together, voice shaky and weak; by then you had known they were all lies, not malicious ones, but desperate ones. He believed in those lies himself, in a self soothing way to survive and continue. Even into death. You had lied too then, hoping it would ease his fears and pains, so you had promised Jack, his fiance, would be there any minute to save them, and he had seemed to believe you, even though, deep inside, you had both known it wasn’t the truth.

The guards had let you and Agerdrup hold Angus as he passed away, blond hair sprawled across your lap. The two of you had attempted to make sure Angus wasn’t in too much pain. You hadn’t been sure whether he was, but he looked relieved when he took his last breath.

Now, was he cradling your face? Had you died?

You blinked, confused over the tears in your eyes for a second; then the voice of the man cradling your face in his big hands, returned. The smells of the rooms in your prison for a decade disappeared, replaced by a scent of gunpowder and cigarettes.

”Breathe for me, Kitty,” Ghost’s voice was gentle, even though he told you as an order, “C’mon, Kitty, be good and take a deep breath, yeah?”

You let out a whine, your mind desperately trying to get back to Angus, claw your way back to Italy with your scientist family, to live in a daydream where none of them died. Desperate to hear their voices, desperate to find a way back to them.

”Do it,” He kept his voice gentle but the command was stronger, and your inner hybrid was screaming at you to be a good girl and do as told.

Your lungs burned painfully when you finally managed to take a breath; it created a painful chain reaction of burning gasps and whines, your lungs filling up with warm embers, unable to cool down. The breaths almost hurt more than you felt worth it.

Pain. So much pain. Who was going to save you from that? Who would take away your precious memories, that haunted you deeply, and help you survive without them?

It took you a good couple of minutes to get your breathing under control, to be able to see the skull wearing man in front of you, to no longer attempt to go back to Italy; he was softly cooing, whispering praises.

Laswell was gone. You weren’t sure when she had left, but you didn’t really care. Ghost kept telling you it was alright, that you were a good puppy.

You didn’t feel like one.

You bit his gloved thumb. It was a pathetic attempt at gaining some power. There was barely any force behind it really and Ghost hardly acknowledged it. Just made a couple of clicking sounds with his tongue, keeping eye contact with you. You were the one to give in, letting go of his thumb, licking your lips, looking away as your ears tipped down.

Ghost patted your head.

💫✨💫✨💫

Simon stared up at the ceiling of the bedroom. Nikolai crawled over Johnny who let out an annoyed sound, then Ghost, he could lay next to Ghost, pressed against the wall. He let out a pleased groan as he settled and out of reflex, Simon turned, leaning forward to him, meeting the older man’s lips in a kiss. The Russian man let out a pleased hum.

“Still thinking about Kitty, da?”

“She disappeared into her mind.” Simon knew what it was like. To suddenly stop breathing, stuck somewhere in the past, but the change in you had been so sudden, that it caught him off guard. He had sent Laswell away, so he could help you himself.

The sooner you got out of that bed, the better.

“Whether she wants to admit it or not, she has been through some hard things, ” John said from the other end of the bed, looking up from his book, reading glasses resting on his nose, “ you’re helping her, Simon. Even if she doesn’t know it.”

Simon looked at his boyfriend for a moment. He knew the older man was right, knew that the moment he could get you up and going, things would become easier. Then he looked away again. What if it didn’t become easier?

What if you ended up spending most of your time in the kennel on the base? Surrounded by working hybrids who you couldn’t relate to. Without some sort of goal, without proper relationships, would that be worse than the place you had been held captive at for a decade?

Simon was itching to give you a routine to follow, to give you simple rules and watch you flourish. To help you not hate every single human being you came across. He wanted to kiss you, and show you pleasure when you behaved and, gods, if he didn’t want to spank your arse sore from your constant snapbacks.

He wanted to show you that they weren’t like your captors. That they would not let your fur turn into matts or let you become weak and sick. They would take care of you.

“She is gonna bite your fingers off, Si,” Gaz muttered, face pressed against the pillow, as if he was ready to be knocked out. Like a philosophical thought before bed.

“Ach, as if Simon will let ‘er,” Johnny answered before Simon could say anything, “nah, wee thing is gonna bite yer arse off, Garrick.”

“Not his ass,” Nikolai muttered into Simon’s skin, rather dramatically, “I am fond of said arse.”

John gave Kyle a couple of pats on the ass, as if to silently agree with the last statement .

Simon huffed at their talk. He wouldn’t let you bite Kyle’s ass - not unless he asked, of course - but he would help you learn not to bite, unless when told to. A muzzle. He should probably order a nice muzzle, one that wouldn’t be too uncomfortable to wear.

“I’ll make sure your ass stays safe,” Simon dryly noted.

Simon hadn’t been able to save Roach. He had been a real struggle too, especially in the beginning, but he had ended up as a really good boy. Devoted. Kind. Perfect. Simon hadn’t been able to save him, but he was going to save you.

Whether you wanted to or not.

💫✨💫✨💫

You growled, forcing yourself harder into the corner of the room.

They weren’t here yet, but right now, escaping didn’t seem like a likely possibility - sadly. The nurses were all speaking, trying to calm you down, though they all looked afraid of you; in truth, you didn’t like the idea of people fearing you, but if that was the price of escaping, then you would pay it.

One of them, a bigger guy stepped forward and you tipped your ears even further back, snarling loudly at him. You had already bitten one of them, you liked to think that they didn’t want to get bitten too.

Your foot in the cast hurt a bit, but it wasn’t worse than some things you had tried before. It was odd to be fully up and walking, even if you hadn’t walked long.

As you took a step forward, they all took one back. Good. Good, maybe this was your chance.

The moment you heard one of them mentioning sedatives, you snapped. You had tried being shot with a dart of sedatives before - it wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but even worse, it meant you would lose consciousness, then go back to square one. If not with worse possibilities of escaping, since they would probably up the safety around you.

You had forced some of your claws out - the ones you had left - proving and though your fingers hurt from the mere idea of them getting stuck in something, you didn’t care.

Filled with momentarily courage, you charged towards the little group of nurses. You had no actual intention of attacking them, but you weren’t going to tell them that. In all honesty, you were surprised by the fact that they stumbled backwards, out of the room, almost falling over each other.

You used the moment to dart out, running rather awkwardly, trying to get as far away as possible.

However, your success was momentary.

Big arms circled you from behind, fully lifting your chubby body off the ground, seemingly with no effort at all. You snarled and twisted in the grip, claws digging into any exposed skin you could reach, barking and screaming. While kicking the man, who let out a grunt of pain from the claws in his skin, you attempted to twist enough to bite his face. It was all out of instinct, of anger and desperation.

You recognised the voice, the strong Russian accent, but you refused to give up.

One of the arms around your chest let go, and in the next moment a hand curled around your face, fully covering your eyes. He kept speaking, telling you it was okay, to calm down, as if you couldn’t smell his blood, feel it wet your fingertips.

It wasn’t going to be okay - you wouldn’t be free, you wouldn’t…

Much to your confusion, your body just…

Calmed down.

You let out a frustrated growl, but you stopped kicking - or at least kicking as hard as before. His breath tickled the little fur that was growing on your dog ears. His grip around your waist became gentler.

Darkness overwhelmed your mind. Somehow making you more calm and you hated it. Hated how you barely fought as he pulled you back towards the room.

A needle pushed into your arm then. Growling seemed meaningless. You whimpered instead.

💫✨💫✨💫

A groan left your lips. Your head was pounding, your lips dry. You let out a yawn, only to blink tiredly when the movement felt restricted.

There was something on your face. You felt like you were underwater as you raised a hand, touching your face.

Leather. Metal.

You blinked a little harder, forcing your eyes to remain open this time. Only to meet the stare of your so-called new “owner”. Quite an angry, cold stare, the big mountain of a man. He had crossed arms, one of his balaclavas with a skull painted on - yet it was easy to see he was upset - as well as a pair of leather cuffs in his hands.

Shit. You were in trouble. You had known you would be from the start, as soon as the nurse grumbled that you were an annoying mutt - that she didn’t understand why they hadn’t put you down instead - because then your teeth had sunk into her hand. The blood had tasted like bitter, metallic victory, even if you had essentially proved her right.

Perhaps they should have put you down. But they hadn’t. You had made that her problem. Had you been more awake, you might have hoped the bite would get infected.

Finally your mind caught up with you. The leather and metal on your face, well head really, was a muzzle. The metal in front let you breathe freely, but kept you from biting anyone.

You let out a little whimper, ears tipping down as Simon just stared at you. Disappointment. It had been a while since that had affected you, but as the two of you almost had a silent conversation, you actually felt ashamed.

“Care to explain yourself?” Finally, he broke the silence, even if a part of you would have preferred to keep it. You were in a different bed, but still in the medical wing. The bandages on your hands were gone. Your fingers were sore, but they seemed to be doing alright.

You weren’t really sure what to tell him. You were too busy fearing what the punishment would be. All the time, the man had promised he would punish you when you weren’t as sick. He had been clear when he had told you his rules. You misbehave, you earn a punishment.

“Well?” You flinched at his word, casting another glance at him, ears still down, tail thumping pathetically against the mattress, hoping he would be a little nicer.

“You’re going to be punished no matter what, Kitty,” he pointed out when you still didn’t say anything, seemingly not softening up at all, “So you might as well give me a good reason.”

You swallowed hard. Your throat felt dry, but you doubted he was in the mood to help you drink water.

“She - the nurse,” you managed, unsure of how to make him understand, understand the frustration and anger that had overwhelmed you, her words flipping a switch in your mind, “She said I was a mutt… that.. that you should just have put me down.”

Simon stared at you, brows furrowing for a moment, before tipping his head to the side.

”So you decided to prove her point, then?” His words were harsh, “Do you think that gives you an excuse to bite her?”

You looked away. The guards in the base had always been mean to you. Snarling all kinds of shit while forcing themselves upon you. Calling you all kinds of things, just to see what would make you snap.

You found yourself nodding, still refusing to meet his gaze, until a deep sigh escaped him. You dared to peek over at him, watching him pinch the bridge of his nose. You didn’t say anything, though you really wanted to repeat your point. Why should you be nice to her when she said that?

”One thing was biting her, Kitty,” Simon finally said, before he looked up again, anger visible again as he all but hissed, “another fuckin’ thing was biting Nikolai. What the fuck makes you think you can hurt my partner?”

You let out a little whimper. You knew something was up with the two of them - with all of them really. You hadn’t really thought that much about it. Whether they all were fucking or not didn’t matter. You just wanted to be free.

“I’m sorry.” You actually meant it. Genuinely, you felt a little bad for biting Nikolai. Even if he had caught you and stopped you from escaping. Bastard. Still.

”You will fuckin’ be,” he stood up so suddenly it almost made you jump, “move so your on your stomach.”

You blinked for a moment at his request. Whatever he wanted to do, you already knew that you didn’t want to be a part of it.

Your ears tipped more backwards, a low growl leaving you, a wordless refusal.

”It wasn’t a fuckin’ offer,” he snapped, “It’s a command. Roll over.”

”Fuck you.”

”You’re not making it better for yourself.”

”I’m gonna —“

You didn’t manage to say anymore, because the next moment, the mountain of a man was on the bed, manhandling you. Biting him was not possible thanks to the fucking muzzle on your head and he barely gave you a moment to scratch him.

In the matter of seconds he got your arms behind your back and pulled over his lap on your stomach. You had almost forgotten about the leather cuffs in his hand, but as they were close around each of your wrists, you let out a scared whine.

”No, no, no, I'll be good, I’m sorry—“

“Too fuckin’ late, you brat,” he hissed - and then to your horror, he easily pulled down the sweatpants you wore, your eyes widening. You trashed with renewed energy, letting out a panicked howl, but it was no use.

His big hand collided with your soft, exposed, bare ass, the sound almost echoing in the room, while you let out a howl of pain.

You could barely distinguish the words that escaped you, as you desperately begged him to stop.

Slap.

Slap.

Yet, Simon was merciless, repeatedly spanking your ass. Each hit was hard, never landing the same place as the former, somehow hurting more and more each time. He ignored your angry growls, your pitiful howls of pain and then, the loud sobs as you cried. No, you almost wailed, as the man continued to spank you.

Slap.

Slap.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.

Your skin felt afire. It was like you were stuck in a nightmare, constantly looping around, pain ever present; you heard him grunt, whether from anger or exhaustion you didn’t know, but it didn’t seem to make a difference. He kept going.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.

At some point, it was like your mind left your body. You could hear yourself whimper and whine, hear his hand colliding in another spank.

Slap. Slap.

You were hiding your face in the bedsheets, tears and snot soaking the inside of the muzzle, sliding through the metal bars and onto the fabric beneath you. Your body had gone fully lax, no longer tensing up with each hit. A part of you had given up, accepted that you had no control over the moment, that he was the one to decide whether you would receive pain or not.

It took a good few seconds before you registered his soft voice. Felt his short nails scratch your still quite short hair, still looking so close to buzz cut. It felt good. Better than you wanted to admit.

The spanks had stopped. You sniffled, letting out another little sob, the big man shushing you. His other hand moved to your ass again and for a moment you expected him to hit you once again. Instead it rested against your burning skin, which somehow felt nice. You felt yourself whining, but accepted it.

”Took it so well,” he said, “just had to get into it, yeah? Understand who is in control?”

You nodded, face still pressed against the bed. You almost felt like you were floating.

“You’re not going to bite Nikolai again - or any of the others. Is that understood?” His voice turned a little harder.

You nodded again. His hand stopped petting your arse, instead one of them dug into your skin, grabbing a handful of your burning flesh, making you cry out.

”Is. That. Understood?”

”Yessir,” you hurried to say, wincing at the pain, the feeling of his nails digging into your poor skin, “yes sir, i understand, im sorry, im not gonn’ bite ‘im or any of the others.”

His grip loosened. Then his hand went back to petting your ass.

”Good girl,” he muttered.

[positron2399]

Teasers: Crimson Ash//Valentine

My'iru: Sapient heavy grazers similar to ankylosaurs, mean ass people who went through three stone ages. Could beat Book Two and some of "early" Book Three Trisolaris in a space war

Ny'ari: Sapient pack hunters similar to hyenas, likely uplifted before the second stone age, though the hypothesis that they naturally evolved sapience is still prevalent.

both species live together in a "similar" state to humanity, as in, there's many empires, that said, the species tend to live together... they'd have a really hard time grasping that there's ~only~ humans

ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL ALL HAIL RAMUEL GLORIOUS RING ANGEL

@piko-chan @cyannidex33 @shesmypsychotherapy @bladeechan @the-real-loser-otaku-girl @toxetta @k1-2-ur-h3art @kurummii @kittycutiehaha @strawberryfairyflower @pururirin @decayinglandmine

Fucking hate how my phone butches the quality, shit's bloody beautiful on my laptop. Try turning up your brightness a bunch, fixes it a bit.

I make this story during my depressive episodes so I don't kill myself, I hope that if I ever do start writing this, then it'll help prevent somebody else's suicide as well.

If I've sent you the picks of Avery and Irin, then it should be abundantly clear that something like these would fit as an op:

https://open.spotify.com/track/3kUWZiVYJ4YQOl0u7Y1Og8?si=Pd2eWlexSw6xiTsrMqjs0A

https://open.spotify.com/track/58uGcS3QBgttRCX8FG0ZBN?si=n_hamlS3TDC-ZTkBbDVCew

I'm never touching domestic girlfriend

But, yeah, I made the human characters super girly so Nazis and Zionists wouldn't try to "take over," specifically because I imagine the series to be Robocop/Doom levels of hyper-violent and they'd probably think that they're "Mraiy," the SkyNet, S.I.M. coated super cyborg navy seal who's programmed to "understand" the monarchy "knows best"

... too bad the bomb left 30% of his nervous system somewhat intact, poor bastard.

https://youtu.be/TYsulVXpgYg?si=Fl5XSTtPjvj1VTpb

^Average Valentine firefight, that's why Avery and Irin are made to look so girly, with one being pan and the other black... I also just really like Madoka and I think CardCaptor looks cute, so I'll watch it one day, sheerly for the art style... but yeah, I just like the trope of big scary monster protecting cute little girl

[atlantis-just-drowned]

Queerplatonic policule. Whatever is going on between these motherfuckers is beyond human comprehension but they did get spotted in a cuddle pile the other day