#triangular bastard

[tr4shp1l3]

The Eiffel tower is going to be deconstructed.

[greyfalter]

Based on a dream I had in March (now with context! ...kinda?) (image description is available if you can't read my chicken scratch)

The song I was listening to was IN MY DREAM by Shingyōji Eri, if you'd like to listen to it for yourself/look at the translated lyrics and see why I went D: lol

...he wasn't making that pose in my dream, it was more like this (he usually shows up eyeless for some reason...)

[mirrorteru]

hghgh. Him.

[sortaawkward]

ding dong the kiss is dead

the kiss is dead, the kiss is dead

that ding dong, kissinger, is dead

[what-bot]

Tron using speedrunner strats to get around during the occupation

Beck: I called you two minutes ago, how’d you get here so fast?

Tron: You know that triangular warehouse on the south corner at the end of Roy Street? If you jump backwards into the third corner at just the right angle, you can break the physics engine and launch yourself out of the skylight at a ridiculous speed. I wingsuited the rest of the way.

Beck: I can’t tell if you’re joking.

Tron: Kevin sucks at making corners.

Beck: Is this like that time you told me to ‘just clip through the floor’ when guards were coming?

Tron: That was my mistake. Clu’s been fixing them, the bastard.

[omgbilly]

☆ cruel ☆

𝟙𝟠+

𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕞𝕦𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨 𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕀 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕟'𝕥 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕘𝕦𝕪. 𝕞𝕕𝕟𝕚

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: 𝕦𝕟𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕡 𝕚𝕟 𝕧, 𝕠𝕣𝕒𝕝, 𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕟 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕡𝕝𝕠𝕥, 𝕕𝕒𝕕𝕕𝕪 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜, 𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕩, 𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕦𝕒𝕘𝕖 (𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕓𝕦𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣, 𝕠𝕓𝕧𝕤) 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 𝟚.𝟝𝕜

“He’s a child,” you seethed, slamming the door to the ragtag group’s shared space wide open as you burst inside. “Butcher, you had absolutely no right.”

Hughie and MM followed you inside with Butcher trailing in just moments behind. Kimiko, who had already made it inside before you threw the door open and moved through the threshold with the same intensity as an electrical storm, left Frenchie’s side to grab your arms in a firm but gentle manner. Her wide eyes searched your face, before looking over to MM and Hughie, for any unspoken explanation as to what had transpired in the minutes she had been away. MM made a gesture of bickering and yapping with his hands before pointing to you, and tilting his head back towards Butcher as he followed. 

Hearing the heavy fall of his boots, you whirled around, pulling yourself from Kimiko’s hold on you. Your fists clenched at your sides, anger swelling in your chest, as you stared down the source of your wrath before you stormed away, down the hallway and out of sight. 

A tense and uncomfortable silence descended upon the room. Butcher sighed heavily, his thick, dark eyebrows furrowed as he brought a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose before he turned on his heel and followed you. Kimiko worriedly began to follow but MM intercepted, grabbing her arm and shaking his head, silently cautioning to give you the space that you needed right now.

You turned into one of the few empty rooms in the office space of the historic triangular-shaped Flatiron building. The gritty, utilitarian condition of the room left a lot to be desired as you glared out a set of dusty glass panes to one of the many arched windows in the back room, shoulders tight and arms crossed firmly over your chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his dark trench coat clad figure approaching. He stopped a few feet away from you.

“Alrigh’, let’s ‘ave it,” he grumbled, his voice tired and low as he shut the door behind him, “get it off your chest—”

“How can you be so fucking cruel? You are all that kid has, and y-you couldn’t even show him an ounce of kindness,” you interrupted him, your gaze at the bustling city outside unwavering. You felt your jaw clench as your anger refused to subside. The tightness in your chest didn’t falter but you felt a lump in your throat as tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You didn’t know Ryan well but his heart was so gentle and kind, and to see the way Butcher’s words cut him down so much broke something inside you today.

You continued, your words laced with venom, “You don’t treat anyone like we’re all in this together. Everyone, to include your Boys, is just a…a means to end with you, you Machiavellian bastard. You’re a ruthless, cruel bastard.”

“Cruel?” Butcher growled, his volume and tone caught you off guard, making you flinch and begin turn towards him. His long strides closed the distance between you in seconds. His large hands grabbed you with such force, you let out a startled cry as he spun you around to face him fully. 

You squirmed in his grasp. You slammed your hands against his broad chest, attempting to push him away to no avail. Butcher grabbed your wrists, his hold on you tightening like a vice grip. You cried out in pain, “Butcher, you’re hurting me—”

“Stop pissin’ about and tell me again how cruel I am.”

“You’re an asshole,” you breathed, trying in vain to pull away from him. You drew in a sharp breath when you felt your back press against the window. The cold from the glass seeped through your sweater, another reminder of the transitioning autumn air outside.

“Takes one to know one,” Butcher chuckled, moving a hand to grab your jaw. “There’s the reason yer still around, innit?

His large hand tightened around your face, making you feel even smaller in his presence. You stared at him blankly as he squeezed your cheeks tightly in his hand; unsure of what to say, prompting him to continue. Your fists clenched at your sides.

“If I was so bloody cruel, what does that say about you? I’ve seen the way yer eyes light up like a right fuckin’ Christmas tree when we torture them cunts—it’s fuckin’ diabolical. You want to prance around like some holier-than-thou little princess when you’re up to your tight little arse in mud just like me. I shouldn’t ‘ave yelled at the kid, I get it, but don’t fancy yerself to be better than me because yer just as vile as the rest of us. Just as cruel as me. Go on, bird, whadya got to say to that?”

You couldn’t contain your rage any longer. You threw your clenched fist against his jaw as hard as you could. He stumbled backwards, releasing his grip on your face. Refusing to lose your momentum over him, you raised your fist to strike him once more but he had all-too-quickly recovered, his hand reaching to grab your wrist with all-too-painful a grip. Your hardened gaze met his, a trail of blood seeping from his mouth, as he looked at you with a fire that wasn’t there a moment ago.

He leaned in closer to you, his lips parted, but you braced your hands against his broad chest and shoved him away.

“Not even if you were the last fucking person on Earth.”

He grabbed you once more, pulling you closer, unwilling to give you the option to retreat again. He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Trust me when I say I’m the only one who can fuck you the way you need to be fucked.”

His words sent shivers down your spine. The feeling of his breath against your ear and neck made your body erupt in goose bumps. You were painfully aware of the throbbing ache in between your legs. It had been far too long since you had been thoroughly used and abused and your body had no trouble reminded you of that fact. Butcher had pulled away from you, a stupid, knowing smirk plastered across his face.

“Then shut up and fuck me, Butch—”

Butcher wasted no time as hungrily swallowed his name as it left your lips, groaning deeply against the soft feeling of your mouth on his. His hands feverishly pawed at your sweater, his lips fervently moving along with yours as if he were a starved man finally feasting on a forbidden meal. The metallic taste of his bloody lips enveloped your mouth. Backing you against the wall once more, his mouth moved from your lips to leave sloppy bites along your jawline, trailing to your neck. His beard scraped against your delicate skin as he went, leaving the most delectable burn.

Your fingers gripped the leather collar of his black trench coat, helping to remove the bulky article from his broad shoulders. It fell to the floor below with a thud while he continuing his vicious assault against your neck. You kicked off your boots to join his discarded coat. He wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing tightly. You let out a choked groan, earning a devious grin from Butcher against your goosebump-enveloped skin. His free hand moved south to your hip to roughly pull your lower half against him. A moan escaped your lips when you felt his hardening length straining against his jeans.

Your fingers trembled as they fumbled with his belt, desperate to touch him, to feel him. He let out a hearty chuckle as he pulled your sweater over your head, throwing it to the ground to join his discarded outerwear.

“Nah, love, you haven’t earned it yet,” his voice dripped with desire, his eyes half-lidded and predatory as they took in your aroused desperation. He made quick work of your pants and underwear before tearing away at your bra. There was vague sound of the clasps snapping at the back as he removed the garment left your body completely bare in front of him.

Still fully clothed, Butcher knelt down in front of you, taking in the sight before him. He grabbed your hips to stabilize you against the wall, prompting you to hook your right leg over his shoulder. His warm breath against your inner thigh sent a shiver coursing throughout your entire body as he pushed himself further between your legs. He traced the seam of your pussy with his tongue before moving to circle your clit. Your head lolled back against the wall behind you, your fingers tangled once again in Butcher’s hair as he thrust two of his fingers inside you.

“Fuck, Butcher,” you moaned, pulling his hair tightly, earning a moan from the man below you. His moan vibrated against your clit as he continued sloppily licking and sucking your most delicate parts.

You felt the knot in your stomach tighten when you looked down to see him watching you writhe at the pleasure he was giving you—that only he could give you. It was enough to make you completely come undone. He slipped a third finger inside you, stretching you wider. Your hips bucked against his face, desperate for more, and he knew you were getting closer to your release. He increased his pace, sucking painfully on your clit until you couldn’t bear it any longer.

“C’mon, dove, give it to Daddy,” he murmured against you. His words were enough in and of themselves to push you over the edge as you felt that familiar white hot heat course through your veins, your orgasm shuddering through you.

He shrugged off your leg, standing to undo his belt. He pulled out his cock, already rock hard and leaking from his own arousal. “On yer knees,” he growled, stroking himself at sight of the panting, shivering mess of you. “Put that loud gob of yers to good use.”

“Shut the fuck up, Butcher, before I—”

“Before y’what? Finish that fuckin’ sentence.”

“Before I leave. I already got what I needed. I could give two fucks about you finishing.”

He grabbed your shoulders and forced you to your knees. The feeling of the hardwood floors beneath you was the least bit comfortable but you knew this time, it wasn’t about your pleasure. This was all his. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, giving your hair a sharp tug. You winced, opening your mouth to protest when he shoved his thick, trembling cock inside. Butcher immediately began thrusting himself into your mouth, taking full advantage of your inability to bitch at him for it. Your tongue circled around his shaft as he fucked your mouth relentlessly. His dark hazel eyes looked down at you, watching you intently, as he forced himself as deep as he could down your throat; committing the sight of you gagging on the length of him with tears welling in your eyes to memory.

Butcher groaned loudly as pulled his cock out of your mouth, leaving you coughing and breathing heavily. He continued stroking the length of himself, his own chest heaving just as much. It took all he had in him to not coat your throat with his sticky, hot release. 

“What is it?” you growled, trying desperately to not show him just how much you enjoyed yourself, “Age catching up with you?”

He let out a loud breathy chuckle as he kneeled down to be eye level with you. He gripped your face with both hands and pulled you in for an angry kiss, teeth clashing in a fury of your tongues battling for dominance. He pushed you backwards; his weight driving you backwards as the back of your head crashed against the cold, hardwood floor below. You winced at both the pain and the cool feeling against your bare body. 

“Think that’s why ya get yerself so riled up,” he muttered between his rough kisses,  “yer desperate f’me to put ya back in yer place; desperate for Daddy to fuck ya senseless.”

You groaned as he pushed your knees apart abruptly, positioning his cock at the entrance of your aching pussy. You brought your legs up higher around his waist; the coarse fabric of his old jeans rubbing against your thighs. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt him press against your drenched folds.

“Get on with it,” you growled as your fists balled up the fabric of his ribbed black sweater, his muscles tensing at your touch.

“Say it,” he grinned, his hand slipping down to tease his cock against you.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please, Daddy,” you groaned through clenched teeth, desire overwhelming your anger and shame in your pathetic mewling. “Please fuck me, Daddy.”

Butcher wasted no time as he rammed his thick cock inside you. You winced at the sensation, letting out a loud moan as he rutted into you thoroughly. His rough hands grabbed your hips tightly for additional leverage, leaving bruises in their wake, as he continued pumping into you—offering no adjustment period to the sheer size of him. The sound of skin against skin and the obscene squelching sound of his cock thrusting in and out of you in a fast-paced rhythm filled the air.

“Fuck, love, quite the tight cunt ya’ve got,” he whispered into your ear, sweat beading on his forehead. A few strands of his dark, tousled locks fell in his face, clinging to his furrowed brow.

You could only moan in response, the tightening coil in your stomach threatening to unravel you once more. Your hands found the back of his head and you pulled sharply, earning an approving groan from the back of Butcher’s throat. It was like music to your ears. You nuzzled your face into his neck, biting him sharply when he angled his hips to stroke an especially sensitive spot inside you. His hand found its way around your throat once more, squeezing until your vision blurred and your head felt fuzzy, adding another layer of sensation to the overwhelming feeling of having him inside of you and on top of you.

In a blur of body parts grasping about, your fingers clawed at his back to leave deep pink wounds to accompany the scars littered across his broad and toned frame. It was all too much for you to bear, and in a moment you were overcome by your climax, catching even yourself off-guard as you were left shaking and breathless. 

Butcher’s own release wasn’t long after; the feeling of your cunt clenching tightly around his cock sent him over the edge as he spilled his cum inside of you. He let out a deep moan as he fucked his way through his orgasm. He rolled over to lie next to you on the cold floor, sighing as he pulled out of your warmth.

The two of you laid there for a moment, chests rising and falling in unison as you both let your heartbeats settle, coming down from your respective highs.

“Your hatred,” you panted, “is going to be the end of you, you know.”

“Yea, either that,” he agreed, finally, “or you.”

[umboloae]

in your karaoke night billford comic I noticed smth. bill had... tattoos? sorta in the shape of top surgery scars! except more- triangular? are they tattoos, markings, or scars?

It's kind of like, a tatto that Bill made with his powers, to show that he isn't cis. He obviously wouldn't have to go through top surgery bc he's a shape-shifter, but I imagine he would be proud and want to show off anything that makes him stand out (aka being trans). Reasons why he's trans in this au (more specifically non-binary transmasc) are: I thought triangular top surgery scars would look cool. Also I'm trans, and I like him, that's my gift for the little bastard, I'm bestowing him this honor.

[fangirlingpuggle]

Additional thoughts on the Ford thinks the twins are his and Bill's kids that bill made (Link here)

Ford asking about the twins 'parents' because he's sure they're fake memories made by Bill and ends up finding out the twins parents were fighting and that's why they were sent here for the summer.

Ford being like See Bill made them and then because we fighting he sent them here, because of course the bastard did ,and he must be planning something before the end of this summer. We have to find a way to protect the house and my kids.

Stan: Sixer... seriously he made them and just sent them randomly to this point in time

Ford: You mean the one summer where you get me back? Oh- and how did you mange to do that with the journal that DIPPER FOUND!

Stan: I-mean

Ford: How many of the means to get be back and the portal working is because of the twins?

Stan:I-

Ford: Bill planned this Stanley I know he did, he's going to do something I know it

Stan:Ok 1) I got you back do not give credit to you triangular ex also 2) your slipping back in paranoia mode think it's time to chill out Sixer

Ford: I don't need to chill I need to find a way to get sole custody of my children before Bill starts the end of world.

Just everything about twins previous lives Ford claims is Bill's powers, all false memories.

Ford: Did you ever actually meet them both this summer or did they just appear out of thin air?

Stan: They arrived on a bus and no I didn't meet them but that's because i'm a shitty great uncle.

Ford: So you mean they're 'parents' just sent both they're children across the county alone on a bus for the entire summer to stay with a distant relative they have never met before? Who they barely even know?

Stan:... that's because they are also shitty parents

[ombiblombi]

Okayokayokay. this is going to be a longshot BUT!

are you seeing what I what I see? The hook, The hook in eyefest’s fin… could it POSSIBLY be a searchlights? I mean…. it makes sense why she doesnt show up in the final grand encounter if its true, she probably had a near death experience with the bastards (/aff) and is scared SHITTLESS of them- No way in hell would she near those scary ass things….

“But wait! The hook shape, its different!”

Dearest jury members of this jesters court, might I present this upon the screen:

Behold! This is a snip taken from a clip where this unlucky player is carted off to the ever-so rusty hued sky(s) high above and, rather unfortunately, they did NOT find a Superhuman School run by Principal Powers up there. But, regardless of my silly little reference to my dearly beloved Sky High 2005, do you see the hook? Is it just me, or is it more triangular at the tip than the Searchlights? More old fashioned fisher hook-esk. Like one… PERHAPS embedded on our favoritest living geiger counter? It certainly doesnt look like the same scythe thats dangling from the lights. Of course, this just could be a small, practically unnoticeable error by the devs, but… I like to think that the lights just have different retractable hooks for prey and eyefest got caught up in that lol

anyway courtroom dismissed that’ll be all

[mychlapci]

Back on Magnus/Optimus/Megatron cuckoldry train, the thought of everyone looking at Meg's babies and knowing instantly that this milf is cheating with his pool boy is SO hot. The problem is... They can't. Oppy and Magnus are too similar 😭 and even the red accents can be explained away with Megatron's own red elements.

Maybe some VERY distinct, exact features will do. Like a cap thingy, triangular finials, or these black-and-white patterns on the face... A 🚛 mode...

Anyway Magnus and Megatron throwing another Meet the Baby Party. All these important people approaching the couple, saying their congratulations and finally looking at the bitlet... And throwing a very quick side eye to nearby Optimus, who, as always, is part of the staff. Meg's face is smug and amused, Magnus' is implacable as usual.

Oh no, Optimus you clumsy idiot! How could you spill a drink on me on such a important event?! Ultra, darling, will you mind the guests for a while? Me and Oppy are going to... chat.

Magnus is left standing there, feeling every judgemental, derisive, pitying gaze. Knowing that while he's left here to hold up the fort and entertain the guests, right this second the mother of "his" children entertains the servant on their marital bed

noooo this almost makes me feel bad for Ultra Magnus... his wife is just humiliating him in front of all their guests! everyone just knows that Megatron's getting some dick upstairs, trying for another bastard son with his favourite pool boy and stud :)

[starlitskyaboveme]

There's one more sudden AU canon about my Catty: she really, REALLY dislikes Ford. At least at the beginning of his appearance. Damn, not even that, especially at the beginning.

We all keep in mind that she's 14-15, she's a teenager, and in the paradigm of Stan's upbringing, a rather emotionally open teenager.

And, first of all, she doesn't like Ford precisely because of his attitude towards her father, who is the closest and most beloved person on the whole earth for Catherine.

Because she sees the situation from her point of view, that is, keeping in mind all that time (she found out about the journals somewhere around ten or twelve, if I'm not mistaken), when her dad, instead of resting after a full day of work, does not spare himself and goes into the forest in vain to look for the last journal or disappears in the basement, all night trying to start that damn giant, triangular machine, and then, already during the day, falls asleep for a couple of hours in his favorite chair, and this is his only rest for the day, because he will soon have several excursions in a row again.

With each passing year, she sees more and more clearly that Stan is consumed by a feeling of guilt and self-hatred for those two accidental mistakes of his in the past. And after all of the above, having learned that Ford is practically throwing Stanley out on the street with her (no, it wasn't Stan who told her, she overheard their conversation in the hallway, although she knows that closer to the end of the summer he will come to her with the words that they need to talk, and will try to come up with some funny story justifying the fact that they need to leave the Shack, which for Catherine, in fact, is her beloved home), she thinks first of all that Ford is a bastard, and that all this is simply not fair, not even in relation to her, but in relation to Stanley.

[not-proguy]

I belive we've found a replacement for The Triangular Bastard.

They are replacing Paris with another city and called it 'Mélanie' with a French accent.

Their main source of income is e-sports and bread.

The Eiffel Tower is now replaced by 'The Tallest D' and is double the original tower's height.

[thicctails]

Wait, so if Dippers a mamas boy regarding scalene does this mean Mabel daddies girl?/J but seriously I would love to know about Scalene and Euclid’s relationship with the kids! Like their relationship with them individually

Remove that /J anon, you're totally right! Mabel is a daddies girl!

Now, obviously Scalene and Euclid love their children equally (yes, even their asshole bastard son), but there are certain activities that Mabel and Dipper do with only one parent.

For Dipper, he and Scalene have bonded over their shared love of music and singing. I always imagined Scalene as having a voice like a 50s singer (think Jo Stafford) and knowing how to play piano. She teaches Dipper everything she knows, and the two often put on performances when the Pines parents aren't home. (They didn't have a real piano, but they made so with the kids one Dipper had) Also Dipper actually has really good hygiene in this AU, BC triangle mom isn't letting him leave the house until he smells like flowers or mint or something equally nice. Since her preferred way to manifest is on books, she and Dipper also often read together.

Meanwhile, Mabel and Euclid are the fashion icons of the family. Every day is greeted with a new outfit, each one at least partially hand crafted. They play games like Animal Jam and Roblox together, and win Best Dressed and Dress To Impress almost every time. Euclid teaches Mabel traditional Euclidean art (it's mostly abstract art with colourful lines) and they make puppets to add some pizzazz to Dipper and Scalene's ballads. On the rare occasions where he's 3D, Euclid does Mabel's hair, tying it up in the fanciest, prettiest bows he can make.

When they were young, both twins used to get their makeup done by Euclid, and Scalene would adorn them in triangular jewelery that she and Mabel would make. They (very reluctantly) stopped when the Pines parents told Dipper that makeup and jewelery were "only for girls." Sometimes, when they knew the adults would be gone for awhile, they'd do it for him anyways, and once he's comfortable around Stan during their summer stay, he starts getting dressed up again.

[thechillsquid]

Blind Eyes- Nightmares

You know something ironic? In the au, Bill is actually the one that helps Stan and Fidds get over some of their more troublesome nightmares and sleepless nights; at first it’s mostly because, well, can’t have these two idiots messing up the portal because they’re sleep deprived and irritated! But as time goes on, it’s just sorta a developed habit, he drags them out their nightmares and it becomes less of a thing where the triangular bastard is poking and prodding at them to just talking.

The funnier thing is that Bill kinda sorta accidentally develops this habit for Soos, Wendy, and the kids down the line as well; Soos comes into the shack with bags under his eyes and a stumble in his step and Stan barely manages to get the kid to talk about how he just ‘didn’t have good dreams.’

Bill might not excatly see anyone besides Fidds and Stan as important to him for a long time, but he notices that if something happens to either Soos or Wendy, well then his humans get all weird about it too. So what’s a demon to do? He’s been able to drag the other mortals out of their funks, so why not extend the gesture? If only to make sure things are running smoothly and he doesn’t got to deal with annoyingly emotions or cranky teenagers (particularly that later one, yeeeeeshhh!)

It becomes more of a problem when Dipper and Mabel show up, Bill’s got his work cut out for him, and not because the kids have worst nightmares than other people, but because these kids notice something off the bat

And well, it doesn’t exactly help when Dipper connects some dots between that one journal entry and their eccentric Grunkle, but it’s a habit by then, it makes the demon feel useful. So what if eventually it gets him having a couple kids now following him around in the mindscape AND real life trying to interview him about his abilities, it’s kinda cute

Then Ford’s back. Oh now that? That’s a fun one, cause well. It’s a habit. Those involved with the shack? He helps with the nightmares. He doesn’t realize the irony until he’s in Fordsey’s mind and the monster in the dark is a version of him he’s long since grow apart from

Funny how things work like that, ain’t it?

[indignantlemur]

Is there anyway we could take a tour through Thoris's weapons collection? Either the one on earth or the one on andoria.

Hello! We absolutely can do that! I hope you don't mind the delay - I took some time to draw concepts for a few weapons! (Scale is all over the place, just roll with it.)

Thoris' collection travels with him between planets, so it's all one collection rather than two split ones. Andorians take personal armaments very seriously, which should surprise no one, and Thoris considers his arsenal part of his personal kit.

Details below the cut!

So, pictured above we have:

Veeg-kaav (Veeg snare)

Rezhveeng (Throwing knives)

Punch-blade

Ngoog (Boot knives)

Ushaan-tor x2

Phoog aam Kor (Clan Kor-style sword)

Hrisal (tactical)

Hiith (Belt blade)

Plasma tonfa

Mace (traditional Andorian)

Plasma rifle

Plasma pistol

Shattered lirpa fan blade

Some of these are self-explanatory, such as the boot knives, throwing knives, punch-blade, and belt blade. Most of these are holdout weapons, or last-ditch close quarters options. An Andorian is never unarmed, if it can at all be helped, and Thoris has many years of experience in hiding weapons on his person.

The veeg-kaav is part of Thoris' hunting kit, as veeg cannot be readily be killed unless the head is separated from the body. The snare serves to pin the head (and thus the body) down while cutting through armoured chitin and allowing the user to give a sharp twist to the side to separate the head from the rest of the beastie. (The spikes along the haft are, in Thoris' words, "For when the little bastard dodges and I have to bludgeon it back into a corner.")

Thoris' ushaan-tor have a little wear and tear, as an oft-used weapon might. He's probably due to replace these with freshly forged ones, soon, but he has a fondness for weapons with a few scuffs and gouges; it shows they've not been idle.

The Phoog aam Kor (or Clan Kor-style sword) is a Clan variation on a traditional single-edge sword popular throughout Andorian history. Each Clan has a slight variation on the same theme, changing up the blade's edge, or length, or altering the shape somewhat. Clan Kor favours one which is serrated for the last two thirds of the blade.

The tactical hrisal (the blade from which Clan Hrisvalar draws its name) is a vicious weapon, meant for inflicting deep and catastrophic wounds. Andorians have a scant few deep arteries and veins in their bodies, and the rest of their circulatory system is a vast and dense network of capillaries. A hrisal blade is intended to punch through chitin and sink deep enough to not only reach but rupture any such major blood vessels. The triangular wounds left behind are extremely difficult to close, even with modern medicine.

A plasma tonfa might seem a bit bizarre at first, but I am compelled to remind readers that Andorians don't believe in nonlethal weapons. More than that, Ambassador Thoris is largely of the opinion that if he hits something, it shouldn't be able to get back up again. The plasma tonfa, to that effect, can discharge superheated plasma if the user desires - though it is a single-use charge, and meant as a last resort.

Thoris' plasma rifle and pistol are the standard Andorian Imperial Guardsman issue, though he has taken the time to customize the grips for both.

The mace is a very traditional, very old school weapon by Andorian standards. It's not something Thoris uses often, but he's as proficient with it as everything else in his collection. Mace design doesn't change much across species, as it turns out - something Dagmar will find amusing - but unlike most examples of Terran maces the Andorian versions are extremely heavy.

And, finally... the shattered lirpa. Contrary to what some believe, this is not a trophy. Somewhere out there is the Vulcan officer who led the boarding party that killed Thoris' eldest sons. The coward responsible fled before Thoris' squad arrived on scene, pulling back the moment the tide of battle turned in typical Vulcan fashion. It is a cold comfort, but even amid the chaos and the damage it was evident that his sons had fought well; a great deal of blood was spilled in the choke point they were protecting ahead of engineering, and most of it was green. The younger of Thoris' sons shattered the lirpa that killed the elder, but succumbed to his wounds before help could arrive. Thoris has carried the fragment with him ever since.

(Strangely, Ambassador Soval has never once protested the lirpa fragment's inclusion in Thoris' weapons display. No one can quite decide what to make of this, Thoris included.)

Hope this was enlightening! <3

[thestereotypebuster]

Disney really dropped the ball on Gravity Falls merch. Bill Cipher has the most easily marketable character design ever.

i wanna see Bill cipher popsicles, bill cipher balloons, Bill cipher coasters. i want a deal with Dominoes, featuring an awful cheddar cheese pizza decorated in a way where each individual slice looks like a tiny bill. i want a deal with doritos. i want triangular phone Popits with bill's face on them. i want middle aged women who've never seen gravity falls to be obsessed with him. i want that little bastard to be as inescapable as the minions