#Atomic Mold

[orb-weaving]

I have not been so physically unwell about a ship as chronohaul in a long, long time.

[atomic-rattz]

this is why i should never go on youtube shorts,, ALL ITS DOING FOR ME IS FUELING MY RAGE

im going back to watch rat videos i cant do this

[bleachbleachbleach]

Having one of those weeks where I read an essay about swimming at a YMCA in New Jersey and my brain is like "which is RELATED TO BLEACH BECAUSE--" and then another about beekeeping "WHICH IS EVEN MORE RELATED TO BLEACH BECAUSE--"

[hadouwave]

Giant robots and giant monsters

Unnamed giant robot from the snow leopard chapter or episode of mighty atom (astro boy)

Garon

Magmadoxas (valkyrie)

Titano (superman)

Starro (justice league)

Fin fang foom (marvel)

Master mold (x-men)

Turtle king (gatchaman)

Mechadegon (gatchaman)

God smasher (gaiflame)

[yueyimold]

biocolor oxygen inhalation atomizing mask mold

China 2k mold maker, offer bi shot anaesthesia recovery mask, dual injection medical mask, bicolor oxygen inhalation atomizing mask, 2 component disposable mask

[cerastes]

Man, you always hear about Japanese people not being able to hold their alcohol, even by their own admission, every friend I managed to hang out with in my visit to Japan warned that, but what they don’t tell you is that’s because these mfers put all their stat points into Asbestos-Lined Mouths, they can put magma in their mouths without flinching.

I was hanging out with a long time friend, and she goes “Drimo, sorry that I can’t match you cup for cup while drinking! I hope that doesn’t offend you, haha” right before shoving a takoyaki fresh off the fucking mold into her mouth and not even undergoing cardiac arrest. If I did that, you’d be referring to me in the past tense. I would be naught but ashes scattered on the Osakan winds. They’d never find the body. Spontaneous combustion would glow green with envy at the speed with which I would just be atomized at. So I bring it up to her and she’s like “oh maybe you just have a cat’s tongue haha” bro you are literally immune to fire damage, NOTHING funny about it, I’m in awe.

[daisyvisions]

A Little Motivation - (e.s)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: Baseball Player!Eric x Fem! Reader ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Summary: Being a volunteer tutor can be challenging, especially when it’s the university’s star athlete who hardly pays attention. How will you get him to focus and what lengths are you willing to go through to get his full attention? ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 1.5K ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), pervy!Eric, allusions to male masturbation, allusions to sexual favors, smut is not explicit per se, but let me know if I missed a warning! ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: had this drafted for quite sometime and finally found some motivation (lol) to finish it. Let me know if you’d like a part 2! Proofread once. ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

Being a volunteer tutor was always something you were passionate about. You always loved to help others understand lessons they were stuck on, the smile on their faces when they get the correct answer, and even the spark in their eyes when they hit that “aha” moment.

And it really didn't matter to you how long it took some of the students to understand the lessons. Your patience was always one of your strongest traits. Never in your life had you felt irritable or impatient with anyone.

… that is until Eric Sohn entered the picture.

You've heard of the name countless times. He's practically the star athlete in your university. No matter who you were talking to, his name somehow found its way into the conversation. Not only was he the star athlete, but he was also known to be incredibly handsome.

His face looked like it was perfectly molded by the hands of a god. From his strong facial features all the way to his toned abs, one look from him would turn your knees into jelly.

But not you.

Eric Sohn was the bane of your existence the moment you were paired to be his tutor. You see, in order to keep his status as the star athlete, he needed to pull up his grades. Otherwise he would be kicked out of the baseball team (which was something he dreaded the most).

It all started when he showed up late to your first session all because he was flirting with someone outside of the library. Then later on he would constantly use his phone during sessions, half-ass his answers, wouldn't stop talking about sports or parties, etc.

Sure, you've had your fair share of distracted students. But he was a literal nightmare.

“Are you even listening to me?” you ask, trying your best to keep your cool.

“Yeah yeah atoms whatever-” he doesn't even look up at you while he's texting on his phone.

You were starting to become frustrated with him, wondering how anyone could see him as perfect when he's got the attention of a damn goldfish.

You sigh out of frustration, slamming the book closed and immediately pushing your chair away from the table to stand.

“I think we're done for today.” you wait for his reaction as you sling the strap of your bag over your shoulder.

“Yeah? Cool! See you tomorrow, tutor.” He winks at you before getting up. You scoff before you turn to leave the study room.

“See you tomorrow.”

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The next day you were running late to your tutor session with Eric. Sprinting down the hall as fast as you could, you lost track of time tutoring another student who needed urgent help in finishing an assignment.

You barge in the private study room, immediately apologizing for your tardiness as you dropped your stuff onto the table and readjusted your hair and sundress from all the running.

“You okay there?” Eric asks while scrolling on his phone. “Yeah, got caught up with another student.” You breathe out.

“Ah shit-” you curse under your breath as your pen rolls off the table and you immediately drop down to get it.

As soon as you bend down to reach for the pen, Eric looks up from his phone to check what you’re doing and is suddenly greeted by the view of your sundress hiked up enough to give him a glimpse of your clothed cunt.

He felt like his eyes were about to fall off from the view in front of him. He knew he shouldn’t have stared but the way your ass was angled to him? He was ready to drop everything and worshi-

“Eric? Wanna start already?” you look up at him, noticing the hot flush in his cheeks.

“Y-yeah, yeah let’s start.” He frantically stutters, turning to his book as he tries to hide his embarrassment from you.

As the tutoring session goes on, it’s like you were slowly unraveling in front of Eric eyes. He kept getting distracted with the way your mouth moved when you talked, how your cleavage would show every time you shifted in your seat, and so on. You were like a forbidden fruit being dangled in front of his face and he was struggling to resist taking a bite into you.

The more he kept on looking, the more he could feel his cock strain beneath his pants. You’d think he’d be more distracted than ever when you would ask him questions, but it was quite the opposite. For the first time, Eric was actually paying attention during a tutoring session, but you already knew why.

And he wasn't so slick in hiding it either, you knew exactly why he was more attentive than usual today after catching him staring at your ass… So you decided to take advantage of the moment.

“Eric, can we take a tiny break first? I wanna talk to you about your progress.”

“Uh.. sure I guess?” his eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

“We've been at this for a couple of weeks now and it seems like your grades aren’t improving. They’ve been the same ever since and some even slowly dropping…” You heavily sigh as you lift your glasses up to your head and lean your elbows on the table, making sure your cleavage is tastefully exposed.

You can see the way Eric awkwardly shifts his legs from his seat, trying to “discreetly” adjust his jeans from the strain of his erection underneath.

You scoot a little closer, reaching your hand out to lightly grab his chin and get his eyes to focus on you, “What will it take for me to get you focused, hm?” You stare right into his dilated pupils.

“I-uh- I’m not s-so sure…” he stutters, trying to clear his throat from feeling the intensity of your gaze.

“I’ll tell you what-” You pull away your hand from his chin and place it on top of his thigh. You swear you heard a very faint gasp coming out of his mouth.

“If you get a really good score in your test this week… I’ll reward you with something special.” You stroke your thumb repeatedly on his thigh.

“Shit-” he mutters under his breath while trying to keep himself together.

“Do we have a deal?” You ask him.

“Yes, yeah. Totally, yeah we have a deal.” He quickly responds.

“Good!” You squeeze his thigh quickly before pulling back your hand and reopening your book, “Let’s get to it then!”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

After an hour and thirty minutes more of your tutoring session, Eric was able to answer all your questions correctly and even get an impressive grade on the short mock test you let him answer.

“Wow look at that Eric! You answered everything so well!” You place your hand on top of his.

“Couldn’t have done it without the best tutor…” he replies sheepishly.

“Good job! I’m so proud of you!” You move your hand to lightly stroke his hair, Eric’s cheeks flush at the praise and gesture.

“T-thank you…” he stutters as he tries to avoid looking back at you. Your praises subtly making his hard on strain even further.

As soon as the bell rings, you gather all your things into your bag and head out for the door. You stop midway to turn back to Eric.

“Oh yeah! Almost forgot-” Your hands suddenly disappear under your dress. You wiggle your hips a bit until Eric visibly sees your panties drop to your ankles.

“What are you doing?!” He loudly whispers, shocked by your sudden gesture.

His eyes widen and before he can even fully process what’s happening you quickly step out of your underwear and throw at his direction making it hit directly in his face. His eyes nearly roll back in his skull from getting a quick scent of your essence on them.

“A little reward for today superstar, you deserve it.” You walk towards him as he’s still seated in his chair, making sure your hover above him.

“I gotta go now but just remember-” you caress his jaw with your hand while keeping eye contact with him. His cheeks start to feel like they’re on fire from your lingering touch and the way you’re looking down at him.

“-every time you do well, you’ll get a reward… and it can be anything you want.” You swipe your thumb delicately across his bottom lip, making him whimper from your touch.

“See you tomorrow!” you pull your hand back and quickly exit the room, leaving Eric stunned in his chair, your panties still crumpled in his hand and a light wet patch forming at the front of his jeans. Oh he’s definitely gonna have some fun tonight thinking about you while he shoves your underwear in his face and pumps his cock like there’s no tomorrow.

And he’s especially excited on what kind of reward awaits him the next tutoring session.

-- Part 2 --

[izvmimi]

Senku exhales deeply and releases the small screwdriver he’s holding in his right hand, and as the metal clatters quietly on his work surface, he admits to himself that for the first time possibly in his entire life, he’s having issues with concentration. 

Taking a swig of long-cooled coffee in his left and smoothing out a blueprint that he’d normally have committed to memory on the desk before him, he pores over the details of his newest invention again, but as the acrid taste of double shot espresso, taken black, hits his tongue, a flash of your wide smile comes to mind instead. The vision of you practically sweetens the aftertaste. He sighs, downs the rest of his coffee, then rubs his face with both his hands. Tilting back in his chair, he crosses his arms over his chest, jittery hands that now yearn to hold something soft and warm instead of being made to work. 

Love is the most irrational thing on Earth, really. 

Glancing at the digital clock just above his work desk, he finds that it’s late, close to 1 am, and you’re probably long since snoozing with far better sleep hygiene than he can ever afford (although he knows better, he always does). Perhaps if he just spoke to you, he’d be able to get that natural, primitive urge for companionship out of his system, that evolutionary shackle that keeps people fitting the mold rather than breaking through for societal advancement, but he only knows that feeding that desire is akin to throwing fresh meat to an endlessly hungry horde of dogs - never satisfied, always wanting more… a loud and wanting demand in his chest that doesn’t wane. 

His curious nature finally proves to be a detriment because rather than uncover the laws of the natural and advanced world, he wonders if he could know you to the very atomic level. What your likes are, your dislikes… how your heart stays tender and pliable even at the worst of times… how kindness is communicated from your thoughts to words spoken sweetly through soft lips… how you decide what to wear, what gives you comfort… if you think you’re as pleasing to the eyes and soul as he finds you…

He shakes his head as he contemplates himself wasting precious time thinking about a woman, but you’re not just any woman, are you? You’re that person who generates that specific neurochemical cocktail that keeps him preoccupied, distracted - sitting in a chair in the middle of the night wondering if you’ve slept well and if you’d be interested in him picking your brain. 

He looks at his phone, then looks away. He picks up his wrench, then places it back down. 

His heart races for a moment, and he looks upset at the coffee cup, now consumed to the dregs. If he could make another cup, perhaps he could regain his focus, perhaps…

He rises for a moment, sits back down, and in a split, uncalculated decision picks up his phone and calls. 

And you pick up on the second ring.

“... Senku?”

Your voice lacks the grogginess that would engender guilt for waking you up in the middle of the night. His mouth opens then closes for a moment, pulse quickening faster than any stimulant could hope to accomplish, and he quickly comes up with something to say. Anything, before you lose interest and question him just as badly as he questions himself.

“I need to run something by you. Do you mind?”

He can practically sense your smile on the other end of the line and it warms him from inside out.

Whether you understand his newest contraption is moot because you listen enthusiastically and you ask the right questions and he’s delighted just by the sound of your breathing on the other end of the phone -

Appetite for you whetted, satiated, and yet never truly full. 

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Science Vocabulary

for your next poem/story

Word — Science Meaning; Public Meaning

Bank - land alongside a river/lake; a place where people store money

Bar - unit of measure of atmospheric pressure; place to drink alcoholic beverages

Belt - collection of asteroids in a disc shape; materials worn around waist to support clothes

Bonding - electrostatic attraction between atoms; making an emotional connection

Charge - force experienced by matter when in an electromagnetic field; demand a price for rendered goods/services

Code - software/computer language; encrypted message

Crust - outermost layer of planet; edge of pizza/pie

Current - water or air moving in a direction; belonging to the present time

Cycling - flow of nutrients or elements; riding a bicycle

Dating - determining age of site/artifact; initial stage of romantic relationship

Driver - influential factor; someone who drives a vehicle

Dwarf - celestial body resembling small planet; characters from Snow White

Fault - fracture in a rock with movement; responsible for accident/misfortune

Fetch - distance traveled by wind/waves over water; go far and then bring back something/someone

Force - strength/energy of action/movement; make someone do something against their will

Grade - gradient/slope; level of proficiency

Hertz - the SI unit of frequency; rental car company

Jet - gas stream ejected from an accretion disk surrounding star; an aircraft powered by jet engines

Mantle - planet layer between crust and core; important role passed from person to person

Matter - physical substance in general; be of importance, have significance

Model - computer simulation; promotes fashion/product

Mole - SI unit used to measure amount of something; small rodent-like mammal

Plastic - substance that is easily shaped/molded; synthetic material

Pressure - force per unit area that gas/liquid/solid exerts on another; use of persuasion to make someone do something

Productive - creating organic matter through photo/chemosynthesis; busy and efficient

Sample - to take a sample for analysis; a small part of something

Scale - system of marks used for measuring; device used for measuring weight

Shear - difference in wind speed/direction; cut wool off of

Shelf - a submarine bank; a surface for displaying/storing objects

Stress - pressure/tension exerted on a material object; mental/emotional strain

Submarine - existing/occurring under the sea surface; a ship that stays submerged under water for extended periods

Surf - line of foam on seashore from breaking waves; riding a surfboard

Swell - sea movement in rolling waves that do not break; to become larger in size (e.g. a body part)

Source

[nardo-headcanons]

About Deidara

i am back again with some shower thoughts about Deidara, once again, 90% headcanon and very rambly

Deidara is, in my opinion, one of the most misunderstood characters of the Akatsuki. Many paint him as an explosive (pun not intended) idiot who simps for the Uchiha. But I don't think it's so simple.

We all know Deidara heils from Iwagakure, the hidden stone village. Considering his closeness to Oonoki, Kurotsuchi and Kitsuchi, I like to think he is a direct descendant of Oonoki and related to Kitsuchi in some kind of way. Maybe a son? A nephew?

LET ME EXPLAIN:

Thank you so much to the OP who initially pointed this out, unfortunately I couldn't find their post even after 2 hours of scrolling.

Naruto, as can be seen, has full monolid eyes, making him not European looking, contrary to what many people, including myself, thought. Sasuke, on the contrary, has double eyelids, a trait seen as very desirable in Japan and other East Asian countries. Sakura has a mixture of both, a double eyelid but with visible epicanthal fold. These details all stay consistent through the manga. BACK TO DEIDARA

Living with the Tsuchikage has its perks, including wealth and leisure time. Since in Iwagakure, the Tsuchikage heil from one family and one family only, I think that from his birth, Deidara had been shaped and molded into the perfect next leader. He was given anything he desired for, he could have anything that he wanted. He was never allowed to be the kid Deidara, the one making mistakes and living in the moment, no, he had to pave the road for his future.

It was shown that Deidara does know how to make his explosions colorful, and that is mostly done by mixing the explosive substance with alkaline earth metals. Doing that requires knowledge of advanced chemistry since you need to know the ratios and mix-ins. If we take into account Onoki's Kekkei Touta, particle release, we can assume that Deidara has been tought in the natural sciences, up to the atomic level. (this is so cool in itself, he could probably explain orbital theory and quantum mechanics to you)

Deidara was 9 years old when he became a rogue ninja, having joined the Iwa explosion force at a young age and became one of its most talented members. It's making me believe he must have been a literal super genius if he managed to go that far as an elementary school kid. The name "Deidara" might be a pen name he chose for himself as an artist, and Onoki, Kurotsuchi and Kitsuchi call him that out of respect - just like Deidara always uses respectful honorifics for his higher-ups. He was raised that way.

He was used to people reacting to him with awe, whether that be the Iwa citizens treating him as royalty, or the people looking at his bombs moments before they go off. It's all he has known. So, when emotionally constipated Uchiha men come along, who don't give him the reaction he believes he is entitled to, he explodes. Literally and figuratively.

In a way, Deidara is, like so many others in the shinobi world, a child forced to grow up way too quickly, never being allowed to live in the moment, always having to think of the future. Maybe his time in the Akatsuki was the most freeing he has ever had.

[pookiebeary]

Go Little Spider

Spiderperson! Reader in Gotham

Gn!Reader x Batfam(?)

Heavily inspired by "Peter the Pizza Guy" and "Dark Matter" on AO3

ATSV spider-reader

Taglist: @rl800

Back | Part 2

A pained groan and rustling from the dumpster caught the attention of some passersby but such was the norm in Gotham. No one came forward to help, merely glancing a second longer before going on with their lives.

You tried not to gag at the smell of rotting food surrounding you and instead focused your attention on trying to climb out of the pile of trash bags. It didn't help that your suit was soaked with whatever filthy water was in the bag of molding McDonald's.

Gross.

The putrid smell violates your nostrils and you try not to breathe as much as you need to, which is impossible when every little action you make causes you to suck in a breath because it hurts like hell. Each breath you take makes your chest hurt, like something was squeezing your lungs and stabbing it with a needle repeatedly. With shaky hands, you slowly climb up and out the dumpster, landing with a small thud on the concrete ground.

You let out a small oomph as your back hits the ground.

You're frozen on the ground as a wave of pain floods your body with it mostly concentrated on your left shoulder blade and ribs. The only positive thing about the situation is that nothing seems to be broken and the only thing there is the pain and horrible pounding headache like you've just drunk a bottle of vodka.

As you lay immobilized on the floor, you feel your vision blur as tears pool in your eyes. You quickly blinked and rolled your eyes in an attempt to stop the tears from falling down. You weren't sure why you were crying; you've been through worse than this. In all honesty, this was but a scratch compared to the injuries you've had on your line of work.

Still, you find some tears pooling on your eyes as you look up to stare at the dark and gritty alleyway you find yourself in. It reminded you of the first time you met Peter dressed as Spiderman; He had confronted the man who cornered you after you left school and dealt with him properly. And after the man passed out from the one sided fight, Peter webbed him up for the police to take him away before checked on you. You were grateful for his help and that was your first meeting with the amazing Spider-Man....

Lips pressed into a thin line as you recall the memory, you look at the hazy night sky as police sirens echo in the background. Smoke and the putrid smell of rot clung to your nose, causing you to scrunch up in disgust but also sobering you from further dwelling on the nostalgic memories.

Your hand clenches around your spider mask, with fingers tracing the webbing details on it before you start sitting up, there's no point in dwelling in the past.

You have to move on. Ignoring the cascade of pain as you move your body, you manage to drag yourself to lay on the dumpster after much effort. Okay, swinging on your web is definitely out of the question. Your eyes fall onto the occasionally glitching screen of the interdimensional watch settled on your wrist. It looks broken, but the painful feeling of your atoms slowly disintegrating wasn't there so at least it's still doing its primary function- stabilizing your atoms to settle in this dimension.

You tap on the screen of the watch, inspecting the other hardware to see if you could salvage it; Parts of the monitor were cracked but other than that nothing seemed to be too broken to repair.

Okay, you can probably try and fix it once you get your hands on some tools and replace some of the wiring. You can do this, you think. Probably. Maybe? You weren't confident given your first attempt at reverse engineering the watch ended up with you being flung to an unknown dimension, but that wasn't so bad. Honestly you were expecting it to fail and disintegrate you instead when you jumped to the ominous portal. (You've calculated the probability and it definitely wasn't in your favor.)

Frowning as you fiddle around with the internal hardware of the watch, you feel sweat rolling down your temples as you let out a frustrated groan when you try and salvage some of the more broken parts.

Welp.

There goes your only chance of knowing what dimension you're stranded in, for now at least. You take a long look at the buzzing streetlight across the street, the gritty and dark unwelcoming atmosphere didn't seem like any version of New York you've encountered. Added with the fact that your spidey senses have been thrumming softly in warning did not help with the horrible first impression this dimension gave you.

Letting out a sigh as you look down to check on your sorry state of a spidersuit, you start walking towards the streets despite a lack of destination in mind. You don't know where to go but any place is better than a dumpster in a shady alley. Plus, you didn't forget that now you had the spider society hot on your trails. Hopefully, they are being misled by the fake trail of breadcrumbs you left behind after messing around with the watch.

With your heart in your mouth, you trudge along the pavement like every step was a pain and arduous task.

***

You'd think that an injured guy wearing a ragged up spandex costume with the theme of a spider would elicit some sort of question but you were proven wrong when the few people that walked past you didn't bat an eye. Though to be fair, they looked drunk or high as hell- which should’ve been the biggest warning sign that you're stranded in the bad side of the city.

Well, that realization came very late to you and it didn't do much to ease the low thrum your spider senses gave you. It buzzed off uncomfortable at the back of your head the further you walked into the city. The wind blew coldly against your face and you felt exposed without your mask. You hesitantly placed your sweaty spider mask back to your face and gagged from the horrible smell. Unfortunately, even after all those years of wearing it, you've never gotten used to the smell of your sweat-soaked mask after a long day’s work.

After making sure the mask was firmly secured, you look around the growing darkness. The street lamps ahead were broken or flickering like it was running on sheer will. Your spidey senses were buzzing wildly at the thought of continuing the walk.

Yea, there's no way you're walking down a dark alley alone in the middle of the night. That's just asking for trouble.

You turn around, walking towards one of the buildings, wondering which building you should climb and travel through the roofs. You didn't notice this before when you were too focused on trying not to agitate your injuries during the walk but god damn the buildings have seen better days.

Some were crumbling and had dozens of bullet-sized holes, most were covered in graffiti and broken wood planks and metal pipes with suspicious goo oozing out, it seemed like a chemistry experiment gone wrong while constructions of the building were canceled halfway.

Seriously, your spidey senses are going ballistic right now it's actually unnerving. (You swear you'd heard gunshots ring in the air and this time it's louder than the previous one as police sirens echo in the background.)

It's rarely acted this way before, except that one time you visited Hell’s Kitchen for a field trip. Only this time, the annoying constant thrumming at the back of your head was louder and more in-your-face than the one at Hell’s kitchen.

Right as you stood staring at the weathered billboard sign hanging from the shoddy building of what was once a fast food diner contemplating if you should just travel from the roof, you hear a cry for help.

***

[itzrafee]

A thing on Uran and Helena in Pluto

Okay a short little thing on Pluto. Uran and Helena are my absolute favourite characters in Pluto. Urasawa has always had amazing side characters, from Mr. Rosso in Monster to Lee Harvey Oswald and Jackie in Billy Bat to God in 20th Century Boys, but very few have tied off the emotional ends of the story like Uran and Helena.

Maybe I'm projecting here but much like myself I feel like Urasawa is absolutely obsessed with Frankenstein. And he recognizes the influence Frankenstein has on Dr. Umataro Tenma. Or at the very least, the similarities between the two. And so when he made the protagonist of one of his most popular works Monster, Dr Kenzo Tenma, he solidified that connection. Kenzo Tenma calls back to Victor Frankenstein needing to end his creation while also calling back to Japan's other famous Tenma, thus making the connection explicit. Another throughline between the three of them is that all three are father figures to their creations and have obligations to their children, though all three have varying levels of success with them.

I've only read what I like to call Urasawa's "Core Four", conspiracy minded thrillers that are essentially road trips featuring usually two main protagonists that we see the world through, Monster, 20th Century Boys, Pluto and Billy Bat. Though I still haven't caught up to Asadora and that could still possibly fit this mold, Urasawa's Core Four share a lot of themes and ideas. One of the most important being the responsibility for one's creations, whether it was Kenji Endo and the Book of Prophecy or Kevin Yamagata and Billy Bat or Dr. Kenzo Tenma and Johan, all of his protagonists could arguably be seen as someone with the need to take up the responsibility of their creations. So where do the protagonists of Pluto fit in there? That's where Uran and Helena come in.

But first, we should take a look at Pluto's themes. While I could be wrong, at a cursory glance, I feel like the general consensus towards it's themes is that it's about hatred. I don't really think that's what it is as I feel like Urasawa is more trying to show us what it is to be human and what it is to be alive. And in that, he has a hidden protagonist in Pluto. Someone who's influence snakes through the plot and isn't seen much, but without who the story's themes would remain incomplete. Pluto tackles what it is to be alive through many things, such as memory, sadness, grief, hatred, love and parenthood. But none of that works without the realization by Tenma of his own mistakes. And Uran and Helena bookend these revelations and are absolutley key to understanding that.

In my favourite chapter of the series, Chapter 37, Uran goes from person to person as she finds a way to deal with her grief and eventually comes across Tobio's grave, Tenma having left recently. It's an absolutely beautiful chapter that shows Uran's humanity and Urasawa's love for sharing these kind and soft moments. But it also sheds a light on Tenma as Uran realizes someone who was grieving has just left. Without saying much at all we realize that Tenma has finally realized his mistakes. In the process of grieving one son, he lost the other. While remembering Tobio, he let Atom go. His grief towards Tobio is clear in the following chapter, Chapter 38. All of the things he wanted Atom to be; Tobio come back to life, Tobio's ghost punishing him, Atom rejected. And Tenma could only see that rejection, and not what he had, another son.

Uran shows us very clearly what Pluto, the story, is. It's a chapter in their lives. And we've come into a story nearing the end for Tenma. And it's through the humanity of two absolutely amazing characters in their own right, Uran and Helena, that we are able to so fully understand Tenma. Despite being robots, these two characters are the most alive of everyone. They love fully and freely and are catalysts of change. Uran's vibrant and full of life in a way that really sticks out. And Helena has such depth that it's evident in every scene she's in. She's not pointed out to be made by any famous scientist so all the life she has is her own. These two represent the life of robot's more than any other characters in the series.

So it's that much more poignant when Helena finally breaks down after putting on such a strong front of everybody. Grief intersects and she brings out Tenma's sadness as well. They've both been putting up such strong fronts that it's heartbreaking to see them collapse. It completes Tenma's growth and strikes a heartbreaking contrast between the two. Tenma became the way he is through the loss of his son whereas Helena doesn't even get to remember her own loss. It makes you wonder if the grief for her and Geischt's child compounds her sorrow too.

Without these two and their grief, a large part of Pluto becomes inaccessible. Pluto is largely about death so when two characters come in who've never had a hand in the grim work of taking life, you see the world through a lens that's absolutely crucial in order to fully connect with all of the character's and their situations. Death and Grief has scarred the characters in Pluto. Time and time again they've chosen the worst path. They've chosen revenge and hatred. But Uran and Helena are different. Without them, the story is incomplete. They provide an alternative. They provide the path towards healing.

im sorry for this one:

[divine-misfortune]

Void I am asking you about Special Ghoul

Shout out to @floating--goblin for suffering Special brainrot with me :))

Special is, well…A special case.

He was the first multi. Not the first attempt, but the first to survive the process. Dozens before him, none of them made the cut. Succumbing to the elements, expiring during the process, too many failures to count. It’s a nasty, violent affair of conflicting elements never meant to mix together but they’re forced to. Mingling in his vessel with all the stability of a nuclear reactor rapidly approaching a meltdown. Barely kept from complete failure by the grace of some watchful force that seemed to enjoy his prolonged suffering. Special was never given a choice, he was always meant to become this thing.

While he was the first to make it out, he was hardly what the clergy would consider a success. Body mangled and abused, he’s forced to draw on the very things tearing him apart to prove himself at the well polished heels of a woman hardly interested in the display in front of her. Special tries. He reaches into himself and claws desperately at the flickering presence caught within the depths of his being. Pulling and ripping at his very atoms to prove his worth with all he could muster.

Not all of it stuck. Some elements were lost in the process. The only things he could find within himself were water and a horrific untamable flicker of quintessence. Special came up short. He didn’t meet the mark and the woman stared at him with such cold indifference he might as well have died in the process. A stain on the pentagram before her. She turned and Special felt his chilled heart leap up behind his teeth. He crawled after her like a dog for the chance to grovel for approval - approval he never knew he needed until she turned her back on him.

And a dog he was. Sister’s dog. Constantly seeking favor he will never find.

Bending beyond backwards for her, Special keeps his hands dirty and hers immaculate. There’s blood beneath his nails and viscera in his teeth all at her command. Devotion turned violent. Lethal. Special lurks the halls. He is what goes bump in the night. The shadow fueling ghost stories passed from sibling to sibling, what keeps toes behind the line. He is the unspoken consequence you never hope to face.

Years pass. Faces come and go. Power is passed along. She grows older and he stays the same. He never strays though. Disobedience was torn from his body the day she ordered him to be remade. To be reborn in the image she desired, and while he didn’t fit the picture, he still forced himself into the mold. Crammed himself to fit what she had hoped him to be but her glances continued to brush over him. It only makes him yearn for her attention all the more.

He never hesitates when she speaks in his direction. Even when she puts the syringe in his hand. Special is loyal. A good soldier that follows orders.

[askvectorprime]

Dear Vector Prime,

As I’m sure you’re aware, there are universes where the Ark and the Nemesis are Transformers themselves. Has there ever been a case of… forbidden love between the two ships?

Dear Ship Shipper,

In Maximal legend, it is said that long ago, their ancestors created an immense Ark, to carry their people to safe haven on an alien world. Their hated enemies, whose descendants would one day become the Predacons, gave chase in their own vessel, forged to be her equal, her Nemesis.

For her robot mode, they gave this Nemesis vicious talons, capable of raking through layers of hull plating, to expose the crew to the cold night. They molded her with a sleek and arrowlike profile, to be near-invisible in pursuit. They loaded her with artillery, until her every deck bristled with cannons and torpedoes, a single broadside enough to atomize any warship. And they installed a powerful tractor beam, which locked the Ark in a death grip as their warriors boarded, fighting their way to the bridge to send the vessel on a collision course with the planet below. But when this task was done, and they returned to their own ship, they found that this tractor beam would not release its hold.

For all their wicked designs, they made a single miscalculation: as to power her engines, the energy source they chose was none other than the Heart of Cybertron. From this unique and enigmatic artifact, there came the concept of a self. In giving the ship life, they had given her feeling. But was her refusal to deactivate the tractor beam borne of hatred for her creators, for all their cruelty, a desire to see them burnt up and buried? Or was it an act of love, for her counterpart, whom upon meeting, she felt she could not bear to live without?

That is the quandary the Maximals are left with: to call into question the fundamental nature of the foe, and what truly lies in their Heart. Even with my unique ability to step into history, and see the ships as they fall, as they crash, as they lie dormant, as they reawaken, and as they take to the stars once more... I have no especial insight I can offer as to how these beings, greater than any one of us, truly felt about each other.

[leiascully]

Fic: Inosculation (M, MSR)

600 words; M for sexual situations and body horror; monsterfucking but they're both monsters (based on @brenayla's cryptid stories) (ao3)

When Scully fucks him, it’s a supernova.

She comes to him wrapped in layers of flame and he peels them off one by one, drops them to shatter on the floor. Her skin is velvet. Her skin is ice, dripping onto him. She tastes like iron under his lips and she burns him. He presses closer. He always presses closer. She laces her fingers through his ribs and tugs and he grins. She loves him.

Pain and pleasure are the same thing to them. Light and time and wet are the same feeling. Hot and cold are the same and her touch freezes him. He is hard under her. She can pull him into filaments like wire. Her eyes eat the skin off his face and her tongue restores it. She is smooth against him. If he strokes her the wrong way, the razor edges of her overlapping scales draw blood.

He moans into the hollow of her just to hear it echo. The reverberations makes his teeth ache. When he kisses her, he can feel the marrow of his bones and the blood swishing through his veins. The glow of her irradiates him. If he holds her for too long, his teeth fall out one by one. She presses them into her own skin, makes her wrist a serrated knife to hold against his throat. He tips his head back for her.

Mark me, he says without words.

She pushes her hands through his hair and leaves the prints of her fingers on his skull. He licks at her. His tongue drags over her pumice rock skin. Lights dance behind her eyes as she watches him.

She likes to watch him.

Under his mouth, she is the universe. He tastes earth at the center of her. She moans like a bellows. He is burned to ash. He trickles down her body. She cups her hands to catch him and molds him back into shape. He is un/made in her image. He becomes what she needs. When he speaks, it’s a prayer of gratitude. She licks the music out of the air. He feels the inside of her throat.

Her teeth tear at him. Her face is a wolf’s muzzle, a griffon’s beak. She swallows a chunk of his shoulder. He traces its path through her body. Peristalsis pulls him deeper into her, the long muscles of her esophagus contracting. She concentrates for a moment. His meat becomes her cock, sheathed in her skin. He is kneeling for her, spread wide for her. She shoves into him and his heart leaps. She fucks him like a hurricane.

And oh oh oh, in the eye of the storm there is no Scully and there is no Mulder. They are the universe. They are the stars, panting hot in the emptiness. When she moans, it’s celestial music. It shakes the ground. They expand through physical space (bed, walls, road, river). They subsume other bodies, other consciousnesses. In the night, someone cries out in fear and ecstasy and doesn’t know why. They contract again, cleaving in two: Mulder or Scully, unentwined like strands of DNA unzipping, like atoms splitting. Frost flowers over their bodies. They sweat mercury and it balls on the floor.

He is whole. He is empty. Her fluids leak out of him. She drags a lazy tongue over his skin. Heat hisses.

I love you, she says. Every pipe in their building creaks with the sincerity in her voice. He rolls her over, pins her, shows her how he loves her with lips and tongue and teeth. She binds him to her with whip-thin tentacles, an inosculation so complete he cannot tell where he ends and she begins.

Somewhere, in the darkness, a star sparks into being, vicious with light.

[1800titz]

FINAL TDIAG CHAPTER now up on PATREON

“…Don’t you wanna do something about it?” 

There’s a livewire in her gaze. Debauchery peering through the muzzy windows— communicable lust. Her hand lands on a quadricep. Harry clears his throat.

“How do you mean?” 

“I dunno… I was a …very bad girl—“ goading— her heat trickles along his flesh when she nearly spills into his lap— baiting (she hopes it permeates his pores, grazes his bloodstream), “—Using you like that. Don’t you think?” 

Triumph. His hand is a flat press at the side of her neck. Colossal. Huge, him— she wants to suffocate on his atoms. The thick of her pulse is a rapid thud under his dermis, and she nags at his wrist until the thick of his hand splays across the column of her throat. There. And it’s there; it’s just there, unsqueezing. 

But Isla bats her lashes, bleeding a glistening sienna into his everest through the limited space between them as he tilts his chin up. Molds her own into a crane to accommodate the width along her windpipe—

He could strangle her, right here, right now, and she’d say thank you, Daddy. 

She waits for the maw of justice to snap at her jugular and nurses his soft hiss— euphoria— dangling in the finite sliver of space between their parted mouths. 

(Regrets, Harry has all sorts of them— what the fuck is the importance of a self imposed celibacy-vow, when they’ve already had loads of sex, anyways?)

Just a kiss. Their mouths mesh, his tongue finds purchase along the top row of her teeth, and then—

Harry pulls away. His lips twitch.

“No, I don’t think so,” Harry admits.

Isla’s brows kink. There’s a please, somewhere, written in the wrinkling.

“Statute of limitations and all that, pet. Let bygones be bygones.”