#if only I could draw my own aliens for once

[realsparrowboy]

Swooce!!! Wasn’t feeling very inspired w my aliens so I made a quick doodle of someone else’s instead!!!

(Ignore the fact she’s naked i am NOT going to attempt to draw birg clothes)

Swooce belongs to the talented @iguanodont btw!!!! Go check them out :)

[paper-mario-wiki]

hi, i'm not the person who asked you about the life update, but could you elaborate on how being a creator means to live in a world of ideas instead of the real world? i'm just really curious about your reasons for quitting, specially because i want to create things in the future (not necessarily streaming, but anyways), hope you have a good day!

i'll be talking mostly about streaming for the sake of this answer, but this is similarly applicable across a wide range of platforms:

the job of the streamer is, effectively, to be the life of the party every single day. your goal is to be the person that has something interesting to talk about, and is quick with a joke, and has nuanced understandings of certain things, without actually obtaining any sort of "expertise" in anything lest you alienate viewers. short of having a stated goal for a stream, the only goal of the streamer is to let people relax with a voice they enjoy, saying things they like hearing. you can become very strong in different aspects of streaming, like in the production, or as someone who focuses more on a skill they've honed like art or speedrunning, but the demographic of streamers which pulls, by far, the most significant viewership, is personality based streamers.

this becomes more complicated when, for example, you are very interactive with chat, or you stream with multiple people at once. now, to maintain this charismatic sway you have (the one that got you the job in the first place), you must be able to adapt to and bounce off of other people, as you are now no longer performing alone. naturally, there's a need to not only manage your own flow of consciousness, but also to be at least partially in sync with someone else's.

beyond these complications, you must also consider drawing in new viewership. when i was a streamer, i was quite successful, relatively speaking. pulling 300 viewers consistently is something a very slim amount of streamers can actually do, and even then i was still making under 50k a year, which is not bad, but also not good. in paying for my apartment, my insurance, my travel fare, and all the other stuff that living independently draws money out of you with, i was more often in the red than i was in the green. hence, the need to draw in new viewers, which cannot be done without something eye-catching.

think about this: there are, at any given time, TENS OF THOUSANDS of streamers live in your native language on twitch, and they are all FREE TO WATCH. the attention market is sparse because the streamer market is oversaturated. and considering all of THEM want new viewers too, everyone is constantly refining and improving their craft, which requires everyone to move creatively in tandem with each other lest they get left behind.

if you are a streamer making ass-dollars and ass-cents, it becomes easy to begin resenting people like jerma, solely because everything he touches seems to turn to gold. i personally found it easy to feel very disappointed in myself when peoples projects that seemed so simple would take off. it was a constant "why didn't i think of that!" situation, at least for me. and when you don't have the energy to keep that up, or the social stamina necessary to figure that all out while also being upbeat and happy in front of people near daily, it can become very draining.

what i mean specifically when i say the "world of ideas", is like. there would be times where i could schedule out my failures weeks in advance. i'd be so in my own head about the process, i could see the exact path i could see myself taking that would lead me directly to ruin. how playing games i actually enjoyed would steadily drop viewership, or how focusing on my studies would make people forget about me. and of course this is augmented by my anxiety, i know this is absolutely not the case for every streamer, but that overwhelming feeling of needing to find a new game to play, or a new gimmick to use, or a new ploy to get money that doesn't make you feel guilty even though your source of income is mostly queer and mostly poor young adults and your rent is coming up and you're $200 short but you also just had a fundraiser last month about a DIFFERENT emergency but you cant make it a bummer or else people wont want to tune in so you have to make it something fun like "you laugh you lose!" or "$1 art request streams!" while feeling nothing but anxiety while youre trying to sound like youre enjoying yourself even when youre asking 250 people to donate every 30 minutes or so and nobody seems to want to and chat is moving slowly and. and and.

well, it starts to eat away at you.

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Making Humanoids Less Human

I did make a small post on this, but now I've got the art for a much bigger and more detailed post! so here we go.

I had several anonymous asks that all came in quick succession weeks ago. Every single one of them was basically just a variation on "how would you take (typically humanoid) fantasy being, and make them look less human?"

This blog does not exist for me to just give people original designs for free, my goal is to show off my own personal thoughts about fantasy design and help people figure out how to adjust their own designs to fit their vision better. That means when people ask me questions about how to do something, I want to give them things to think about so they can come to their own conclusion. I don't mind making original designs to illustrate concepts, but a whole flood of "show me how to make this specific thing look different" all at once like that was too much. I'm not answering them all individually, it's just not what I want to do.

But what I can do is show my own thoughts and ideas about how to take any fantasy design and push it further away from "human", and you all can look at my ideas and figure out your own way to do things!

So here are the main 4 methods I've come up with to make humanoids look less human.

(image description: a simplified drawing of a humanoid face surrounded by four altered versions of the same face. clockwise starting from the top left, they are:

Speculative, drawn as a cat person. Additive, drawn with horns, pointy ears, sharp teeth, and a second pair of eyes. Subtractive, drawn with blank eyes, no nose, and no eyebrows. Exaggerative, drawn with a long face and huge eyes, as well as a wide mouth, narrow nose, and big ears.

end description)

I am personally a fan of the speculative route, which means exploring an alternate root of evolution to create a new design. Through this method, I've created monkey elves, frog goblins, and pig orcs.

the additive option is the most common, I think. adding new feature or doubled features to a humanoid form is a very intuitive way to change the design and make it look less human. you see this in most fantasy and scifi designs, like star trek aliens and the dnd player races.

subtractive and evaggerative are the most common options for people that like the uncanny valley. it's really easy to make uncomfortable designs by removing or exaggerating recognizable features, and they're often used together. Slenderman, for example, removes all facial features and skin color but also exaggerates the limbs and body.

Combining the four methods will give you a really interesting design as well! So for practice I decided to explore an alternate design for Tieflings, the part-demon player race in dnd.

(image description: four examples of differnt tiefling designs using the previously described methods. the additive example is just offical dnd art of a tiefling woman with purple skin, horns, and a long tail.

the subtractive sketch looks very alien, with a bald head, empty eyes, and no other facial featuers aside from a small mouth. it has three fingers per hand and two toe per foot.

the exaggerative sketch shows a hunched humanoid figure with huge eyes and big ears. the neck, limbs, and digits are all long with claws at the ends of the fingers and toes, and the limbs are also quite muscular.

the speculative sketch shows a bipedal figure with features similar to a giraffe, including a long neck, ossicones, and hooves.

end description)

now, because tielflings have such a distinct look to them, obviously my new sketches don't really look like tieflings, do they? the only one that comes close is the giraffe. relying only on one type of alteration to the human form has left the designs rather empty and lacking in the more iconic traits of the original concept. so i tried a sketch that combined my ideas! it came out looking like a completely different creature lol, like it could be a kobold or something, still not really a tiefling.

(image description: a sketch of a creature with a giraffe-like head, long tongue, and sharp teeth. it appears to be roaring at something and stands in a half-crouch. it has long limbs with hoof feet and clawed hands, as well as a long tufted tail curled behind it. end description.)

didn't work out. too far into the animal side of the speculative evolution, I think. so I tried again and got a design I liked much better!

(image description: a digital painting of a tiefling leaping back and casting a glowing orange spell. she is wearing a tunic with a corset and detached sleeves, as well as several pieces of jewelry. Her skin is purple with dark patches like a giraffe's spots, and she has a giraffe's ossicones as well as hoof-like hands and two-toed hoof feet. Her tail is long with a tuft at the end. She has glowing eyes and a flat nose, and there is a single sharp tooth visible poking out of the side of her mouth. end description.)

Brought the face back into slightly more human proportions and that helped a lot. Sometimes designs just take a few tries! that's normal.

and hopefully this is helpful to all of you! there are so many ways to alter humanoid designs to come up with something original and unique to you!

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Kids Of The Future

FastForward!Turtles x reader

A/N: Been having this idea for a while now, so decided it was time to write it down💙❤️💜🧡

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Arriving in the future and meeting Cody Jones, the great-grandson of Casey Jones and April O’Neil isn’t the only family surprise you and your turtle boyfriend stumble upon.

Warnings: I’m not sure what warnings apply to you meeting your own future great-grandchildren.

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Leonardo:

After the whole ordeal of finding Mikey somewhere in futuristic New York City in the year 2105, it was a relief to be back in Cody’s penthouse. Watching Raph and Mikey fight over the TV remote was oddly familiar and comforting. Master Splinter was right; adjusting wouldn’t be a problem.

“Well”, Leo said, turning to you with a small smile. “I guess date nights are going to be quite different for the time being”.

You snorted at his comment, wrapping your arms around his torso. “You think so?”

Leo nodded before placing a peck on your lips, causing his brothers to let out noises of disgust. But then someone came through the front door of Cody Jones’ penthouse.

“Hey, Cody!”, a voice sounded in the hallway, causing the turtles to stiffen, looking in the direction of the noise. Even Cody stiffened a bit, his eyes widening as if he had forgotten something.

You held on to Leo’s arm, watching as a young man walked in. His skin was green, and on his back he carried what looked like a small shell. His four fingers on his right hand, carried something that reminded you of a phone, reading from a hologram projected by the said phone. “Have you heard the news? Absolute chaos downtown. Undocumented aliens causing chaos with the peacekeepers and destroying a gravity level 3 road. It’s a mess! They even have pictures, and they kind of look like…”

Once he saw you and the turtles, he halted, before quickly pulling for the blaster on his left side. Cody told him no, as Leo moved a hand over to protect you, he and his brothers ready to jump at a moment’s notice.

“No, Kai!”, Cody yelled. “It is okay! They are with me!”

The so-called Kai looked from the fight ready turtles to Cody at his side. He hesitated for a moment, before he left his blaster alone in his belt with an audible sigh.

“We have talked about this Cody”, he said, looking like a tired older brother. You fought a chuckle. He kind of reminded you of Leo. “You have to tell me when you have people visiting. Remember last time? Where I almost shot up your and Darius’ business meeting, thinking those investors were there to kidnap you?”

“I’m sorry Kai, but it was kind of a spontaneous visit”, Cody said, rubbing his neck.

“Cody”, Leo said, drawing the young Jones' attention back to the turtle, rat and human, still ready for any attack. “Who is this?”

“I could ask the same thing”, Kai said. You were surprised at how well he matched Leo’s tone.

Cody started scratching his cheek, seeming a bit nervous, eyes flickering back and forth between the two of them. “Uhm… Kai, this is Michelangelo, Donatello, Raphael, Master Splinter and…” You saw Kai’s eyes widen, as if he was realizing something. His gaze moved straight to you and Leo. “This is Leonardo and (Y/N). Leonardo and (Y/N), this is Kai. My personal bodyguard and uhm… your great-grandson”.

Silence fell in the room. The stare down that happened between you and Leonardo and the shocked Kai had taken up every sound.

Great-grandson. You and Leo had a great-grandson. That meant you and Leo would have children. You and Leo would have children! The thought rocked your head, and from the expression on Leo’s face, he was just as shocked as you were.

“Personal bodyguard?”, Raph asked, crossing his arms with a disapproving look. “What kind of personal bodyguard isn’t home when their boss brings strangers home?”

“It’s my day off, okay!”, Kai exclaimed.

“Bad excuse”, Mikey teased, bringing a hand up, causing Kai to scowl at him.

“Bad excuse or not”, Donnie said, staring at Kai. “There’s no doubt that he’s a lot like Leo”.

“Would it surprise you to hear that my grandpa used to say the same thing?”, Kai asked.

The conversation that unfolded between Kai and Leonardo’s brothers was wild to say the least. You and Leo stood staring at them, not truly sure what to say or do with your future great-grandson in the room. Yet you still turned to Leo, not being able to hold your thoughts back.

“Whatever date nights you got planned while we’re here, I think it’s fair to say they’ll be successful”.

Leo nodded in agreement.

Raphael:

Still shaken by the incident on the road, you, your boyfriend Raph, Donnie, Leo and Splinter followed the “walking pile of scrap metal” - as Raph had called the robot - into the big penthouse apartment. Your boyfriend was still fuming, angry at the fact that all of you were in a nice penthouse while Mikey was out on the street somewhere.

Leo thanked the robot for his help, and mentioned how they needed to find their missing brother, but the robot continued talking about how his Master had ordered him to bring them there as fast as possible. You could feel the anger radiate off of Raphael whenever this Master was mentioned.

But then you met this so-called Master, and your world got turned upside down. A 15 year old boy named Cody. Cody Jones. The great-grandson of Casey Jones and April O’Neil. To say you were shocked was an understatement. But you were soon about to learn some more shocking news.

As Cody was explaining where he had gotten his collection from - his ninja turtles collection that is - Raphael noticed something that almost made him smile. His beloved sais, being on display just as proudly as his mask had been. Oh how he had missed them!

So as Cody, and his ginormous robot named Serling, continued to explain, Raph went over to the display, his fingers tingling as he got closer to the weapons.

He chuckled as he reached out for them. “I have missed ya!”, he said, a smile growing on his face. “Come to papa- Ow!”

Before Raph had been able to grab his sai, someone had slapped him over the fingers, causing him to retract his hand in pain. He turned to that someone, expecting it to be that Serling robot, only to be met by a turtle like humanoid, with flesh toned skin and an anger burning in her eyes.

She pushed Raph away, stepping between him and his sais.

“Hey!”, Raph yelled, immediately bouncing back. “I was in the middle of something, spoil sport!”

“Do not touch them!”, she yelled, blocking Raphael’s way.

“You don’t tell me what to do!”, Raphael yelled. “Now move! I want my sai!”

“You’re sai!? They are not you’re sai, you thick shell head! They are the sai of my great-grandfather! He used them to fight the Shredder, and used them while saving the world, several times! So if you think you’re worthy enough to call them yours, you’re not just mistaken! You’re dumb!”, she yelled in Raph’s face, the two of them locked in a growling match.

“Rogue”, Cody said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “That is your great-grandfather, Raphael”.

You saw as the realization hit both Raphael and Rogue the same time with the same exact expression. You blinked, taking in the scene in front of you, feeling as if a rock sank to the bottom of your stomach. It was like watching twins, except one was green and the other and a human skin like complexion.

“No way”, you heard Donatello whisper right behind you.

“You’re kidding, right?”, Rogue finally asked Cody, side eyeing Raphael harder than Raph had ever side eyed any one. Even you could tell they were related, and it was almost frightening.

“I am not kidding”, Cody answered, stepping between the two of them. “Rogue, this is Raphael, and as you know, your great-grandfather. And that-”. He gestured towards you. “-Is (Y/N), your great-grandmother”.

Rogue stared at you for a moment, before turning her gaze back towards Raphael. “Really, grandma? You look that good and you chose this”, she said, gesturing towards Raph.

“Yup”, Leo mumbled. “That’s Raph junior, alright”. You couldn’t help but agree.

“(Y/N)”, Raph called out, arms crossed and gaze firmly fixed on Rogue in a new staring contest. “Remind me to teach our children some manners, ‘coz this one obviously has none!”

“Great”, you breathed out, rolling your eyes. “This is going to be fun”.

Donatello:

“So, let me get this straight”, you said, standing from the spinning chair and walked closer to your boyfriend, Donatello, and Cody as they continued working on the Time Window. You haven’t even been here for a full two days, and the two of them were already looking for a way to get you back. You didn’t blame them for wanting to work fast. You and the turtles’ presents in 2105 could prove dangerous in more ways than one, and could only get worse the longer you stayed there. “You live in this big cool penthouse all alone, just you and Serling?”

“Yeah, mostly”, Cody said, helping your boyfriend connect two wires too small for his own three fingered hands.

“What do you mean by mostly?”, you asked, your brows frowning.

“Well, I have a family that comes and visits every once in a while”.

“Family?”, Donnie asked with a pleasant smile, watching as the wires got connected. “Does that mean there are more Jones’ out there?”

“No, not really”, Cody said, chewing his cheeks with a thoughtful look in his eyes. “They’re not really family, but I see them as such”.

“I know what you mean”, you smiled, before mindlessly letting one of your fingers trace the edge of Donnie’s shell. “I have the same feeling about a group of people I know”. Donnie smiled at that comment, taking your hand to give it a small kiss.

“They have been friends of my family for quite some time”, Cody said, just as thoughtful as before. “I’ve pretty much grown up with them”.

“Will we ever meet them?”, Donnie asked.

“Yeah, maybe”, Cody said, getting slightly nervous. “They usually show up uninvited - not that anything is wrong with it!”, he quickly added, seeming almost panicked. “It’s just the norm. Their parents are busy, you know. With all that quality control at O'Neil tech and paperwork and…”

“Quality control?”, you asked. “Do their parents work for you?”

“No”, Cody smiled a little sheepishly. “Their parents own part of the company, just like their parents did and… their parents…”

“Their parents?...”, Donnie repeated, confused.

You and Donnie wanted to ask what he was talking about, when a pair of young sounding laughters erupted from just outside the lab. Cody sat up, panic in his eyes as he looked towards the door. Suddenly two green young humanoids came into the lab, laughing at something one of them had said. You were shocked to see the small shell-like outlines on their backs, and their shortened number of digits on each hand and foot.

They saw you and Donnie and stopped dead in their tracks. “No way”, they mumbled as they enthusiastically poked you and Donatello, eyes wide and smiles big on their faces.

“Nova, Orion, be nice”, Cody sighed, sounding like an exhausted parent.

“But Cody, it is them!”, Nova exclaimed before jumping on you, her arms wrapping around you in a hug.

“This is amazing!”, Orion said, jumping up and down in front of Donatello. “I have so many questions! Mom and dad literally have a picture framed of you and grandma in their office! There’s so much I want to know, grandpa!”

“Grandpa?”, Donnie asked in confusion. “I’m sorry, but I think you got the wrong person. I’m only 18, and very much childless”.

“Yeah, obviously”, Nova said, still hugging you tightly. “You and grandma don’t have your first kid before 29”.

“Okay, that’s enough”, Cody said, pulling the two young terrapin-like creatures off of you. “Great-grandchildren, what can you do?”, Cody smiled, hoping to relieve you and Donnie from your shocked expressions, as he started pulling the young hyperactive twins out of the lab.

You and Donnie sat and stared after them for some time, before finally turning to one another.

“They have that from you”, he said, before turning back towards the wires.

“With the way you and your brothers act, I’ll have to disagree. That’s definitely from your side”, you said, leaning on his shoulder and watched as he worked.

Michelangelo:

In the short time you had been in the year 2105, you had actually liked it way more than you thought you would. The food was good and the air was fresher than you had expected. But even better was the entertainment. The movies were amazing, especially on Cody’s brand new TV, that would allow the viewer to enter the movie, watching it while standing and moving around the scene as it pleased them. You and your fun loving boyfriend, Mikey, had already made great use of that feature, often bringing junk food along with you, snacking loudly during even the quietest scenes. Never had you thought that you would be able to wave your fries in the face of the villain of a horror movie.

But if there was one thing better than the food and movies of the future, it was the video games. Both you and Mikey agreed; the video games of 2105 was absolutely amazing! The storylines, the dialog, the graphics! Oh! How you wished you could get to see something like that in your own lifetime! Especially something like Helix.

As soon as you and Mikey learned about the existence of Helix, no one could get you or him to stop playing it. It took merely a few days before you had finished and played it through half a dozen times. So when the two of you learned about the upcoming sale of Helix 2, you and Mikey were over the Moon Station, begging Cody to take you to the mall to get it. And much to your happiness, he did, although with a sigh as you can Mikey started running circles around him.

Once at the mall, your enthusiasm didn’t diminish in the least. With big eyes you took in your surroundings. Aliens of all sorts mingled among each other, talking and buying everything from clothes and normal day to day articles, to high end luxuries from big name brands, that you had not yet heard of.

As you walked through the mall in search of the game store, hand in hand with Mikey, followed by his brothers and Cody, you came by the open space that went several floors up and several floors down. A viewing spot, where you could see people on escalators and elevators, along with the restaurants down on the ground floor. That was when you noticed the advertisement on the big screens that hung around on the floors. It was for the new Helix 2 game along with a strangely familiar guy, who stood with his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips, posing over the neon green title of Helix 2.

Mikey noticed how your attention was drawn off to the side, and followed your gaze to the advertisement. He stopped dead in his tracks, causing the rest to stop in confusion.

“Who the shell is that?”, Mikey asked, pointing to the terrapin-like person on the holographic poster, where the title shone and the guy winked at the people watching him. “Awfully handsome fellow though”.

“Oh, I feared this day would come”, Cody sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Michelangelo, that is Dash. Dash Hamato. Five times winner of the Intergalactic Gaming Championships, and a pretty good friend of mine”.

“Wait, Hamato?”, Leo asked, hands in the air. “As in, Hamato Yoshi?”

“Yup”, Cody said with a nod. “Hamato as in Michelangelo and (Y/N) Hamato. The great-grandfather and great-grandmother of Dash Hamato”.

Your mouth fell open. You looked from Cody to the advertisement of Dash, who once again winked to the people walking through the mall. That was your great-grandson?!

“Oh no”, Raph mumbled, facepalming as he realized what was coming.

“Hell yeah sonnie!”, Mikey yelled, fist in the air as he turned back towards the poster of Dash as Raph growled in frustration. “Champion, just like his great-grandpa! I can see that the Battle Nexus Champion gene is running strong in the family!”

“Not this again!”, Raph said, shaking his head in his hands, causing Leo to put a supporting hand on his shoulder.

“He made a deal with Helix after his third win, and is now their official spokesperson”, Cody explained, watching as Mikey jumped in happiness.

“I have to meet this guy!”, Mikey said, before turning to you. “(Y/N)! Our great-grandson is Helix spokesperson! We have to meet him!”

“I don’t know, Mikey”, Cody said, scratching his neck. “Dash is a busy guy. He takes his gaming very seriously and is often hard to get a hold of. He lives on the Moon Base because the darker atmosphere makes it easier for him to practice his gaming”.

“That sounds like a descendant of Mikey”, Donnie chuckled.

“No great-grandson of mine can leave his great-grandparents hanging like that!”, Mikey said, wrapping an arm around you. “First we get Helix 2, and then we get a hold of Dash! Time to teach him some family gaming tricks!”, he said and started marching the two of you towards the gaming store.

[callsign-relic]

I loved part 2 so much!! The adorableness makes me grin like a fan girl. How you contrasted what is going on in their heads... one dark, any negative sign must obviously be betrayal... and tiny human reader is fretting over angles and shading and (holy crap Starscream stop moving) for the giant alien war mech 😍🫠

I didn't mean to ramble, I apologize, I just hope you know how awesome you are.

And if the offer still stands, and you think this is okay, I would love a part 3!! And I had an idea that you can totally use or not use, but what about stargazing?

Maybe reader brought a sleeping bag or maybe time just slipped away on a normal visit, idk, I was trying to go for soft bonding.

Idea or not, I'll seriously be happy with anything. Thank you!!! 😊

Wow, thank you so much!! I’m very happy you enjoyed that little series so far :D I’d be happy to make a part 3 for you! For those unfamiliar, here are parts one and two!

Hope you enjoy! I kind of got carried away with it so it’s a little longer than my usual fics, HAHA

Warnings: SFW, Fem!Human!Reader

There was something you had noticed during your frequent visits to Starscream’s hideaway.

For all of the mech’s boasting and shows of his own grandeur, all of his complaints and infuriated utterances when things didn’t go his way— if there was something that could always seem to get him to quiet down, it was the view from the top of the waterfall at night.

Only once had you stayed long enough to really notice. You were already on your way back to your home before sunset, but you had forgotten your bag. You turned back into the clearing, expecting to see Starscream there, only to find him perched atop the waterfall’s edge at the top of the mountain. He wore an expression you had never once seen before on him, and was gazing up into the sky.

And so, you resolved to really see it next time.

Starscream’s optics flicker as they catch the light of the setting sun, fierce in its final moments— as it always was, the seeker had learned from his time stowing away in earth’s wilds. He raises a clawed servo to shield his optics before casting his gaze down onto you.

You were doodling away in your sketchbook— as you usually did, when you didn’t know what else to do. For once, you were taking a break from drawing studies of your mechanical companion, instead examining a finch perched upon a tree branch not too far from the rock upon which you were sitting.

The little bird seemed to be in the midst of its preening ritual. With its sharp little beak, it dug into the pit between its torso and wing and tugged. It kept tugging at the same spot for a little while, until finally, it removed a bug from its otherwise well kept red and brown feathers. With a couple twitches of its head, the bug jittered around in its beak before disappearing into its mouth— a well earned reward after its hard work.

You felt this was the perfect scene to capture on paper. You quickly brought your pencil to the page, first getting the basic shapes down, as you usually did—

But something suddenly blocked the remaining orange light from overhead, and your sketchbook was too dark to look at. Had the sun set already? No, you could still see the faint hues of pink and orange from the corners of your eyes. Perhaps a passing cloud blotted out the sun?

The clearing of a throat pulls you out of your wandering daydream, and you lift your nose from the page to be met with a gray pede. Slowly, you crane your neck higher and higher until, scaling the length of a familiar mech’s frame- until you lock eyes with a pair of squinting, red optics.

You offer a crooked grin.

“Human,” Starscream begins, servos impatiently on his hips, “it is about time you start on your way home.”

Though your grin falls into more of a smile of ‘I tried,’ you nod. You close your sketchbook and grab your bag, stuffing it full of your art supplies and a spare grocery bag full of wrappers from snacks you had thankfully remembered to bring with you that day. As you begin packing up, Starscream gives a nod of his own and goes in the opposite direction as you— scooping the spare mechanical parts he often spent his time fiddling with into his arms before stepping into the forest line. He crouched down, removing a false bush from its place, revealing a worn hole in the ground. Then, one by one, he places the metal pieces into the hole.

Now was your chance. Aside from your travel bag filled with your usual materials, you hike a much larger backpack over your shoulders. You were lucky Starscream didn’t care enough to ask what you were doing with a new bag.

Rather than head out into the forest line— while the mech was distracted, you carefully backed up and away closer to the waterfall. In your exploring, you recalled there was a little alcove hidden behind the waterfall, and that would be your temporary base until Starscream returned to his perch atop the mountain.

Tucking behind the rushing water, you pull yourself inside just in time to see Starscream cover the hole with foliage once more, quickly picking himself up onto his pedes. Though the water makes it difficult to see, you can see the bright red of his optics shift about— he had been scanning the environment as night finally began to fall.

Once he was apparently satisfied, he left your field of vision from this angle. You could, however, continue to track him from the tremors his pedes left in the earth as he walked. Though the vibrations sent your instincts into a slight panic, all you had to do was breathe, you were used to it by now.

Eventually, the quakes fade, and when you hear one final shake run its way from the top of the mountain all the way down to you, you know Starscream has finally sat down.

Now was the time to make your move.

You slip your way out from behind the waterfall and begin your ascent up the mountain. Thankfully, it wasn’t that bad of a climb, really— just a steep incline. Though, you did have to take a couple of breaks along the way to catch your breath and take the weight of your backpack off your shoulders for a little bit.

Eventually, you take another few steps up onto the hill, and the back of the silver mech’s frame finally becomes visible to you. You duck your head instantly— you didn’t want to risk him catching you so early on. But, there he was, in that same position he always liked to seem to take.

One leg dangling off of the edge of the cliff, the other crossed onto his thigh, and his arms resting behind him as he gazed into the night sky.

With another breath, you gather your courage. You approach him.

You soon make it up beside one of his servos behind him and he doesn’t even notice you. You’re not sure how to get his attention without frightening him…

“Hey—“

A shrill screech cuts its way through the air, and while you flinch into yourself, Starscream raises his servos in defense— pedes scrambling in place as he looks around in a panic before finally landing his optics down onto you. The fear in his eyes quickly twists into fury, though his chassis pounds up and down all the same. He slams one servo down into the earth with a fierce growl, using his other servo to scoop you up in one fell swoop.

“You!” He shouts, “I told you to leave! What are you doing all the way up here?!”

While getting scooped up into the fist of a metal giant would typically send you into a bout of panic, you had enough experience with Starscream’s sudden flashes of anger that you could keep relatively calm. “Okay, I know you said to leave, but…!” You trail off, trying to determine whether or not it was worth lying to the mech’s whose hands your life was currently at the whims of.

With a sigh, you drop the eager attitude. “…a couple days ago, I saw you up here, looking up at the sky. I— I know you say you don’t care about company and that having people around you is more trouble than it’s worth, but…” your eyes drift to the scar under the mech’s right optic before you lock eyes with him once more. “…I feel like your problem is that you just haven’t met the right company yet.”

Starscream examines you for a long time. His fury has simmered down by now, though his faceplate remains twisted in pure suspicion.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” you add. “Listen, I get if I crossed a boundary with you. I’ll leave if you want me to.”

Then, after another moment of scrutiny, Starscream lowers his servo back down to the floor— much to your surprise. You drop to your feet, nearly tumbling backwards from the weight of your backpack, but you manage to keep your balance enough to see the seeker staring at you with… stifled confusion. Though he appeared to be trying his best to hide his emotions from you, your eyes shifted to the side, catching his wings tilting themselves downward.

Quickly, he tears his gaze away from you. “Fine. If you don’t bother me, you can stay.”

You pump a fist quietly to yourself, all while giving him an earnest, “Thank you.” Finally, you remove your backpack from your shoulders, crouch down, and open the zipper to gaze into the contents within.

Your trusty sleeping bag.

You scoop the mass of fabric into your hands before dumping it onto the floor. You unravel the bundle into a much more usable form, lower the zipper—

“What are you doing?”

The sound of Starscream’s rough voice makes you jump in your spot just a bit. You turn around to see him staring at you with a raised optical ridge— perplexed.

You fully turn to face him and place your hands proudly on your hips. “I brought a sleeping bag,” you explain, gesturing a hand towards the bag. “It’s basically a bed that can travel with you, and you can use it to sleep in the wilderness. Another innovative human invention,” you wink.

The seeker’s confusion dissipates into disinterest. “Whatever keeps you busy,” he waves you off with a servo before turning to face the night sky again.

You shrug— you learned to never take Starscream’s comments to heart anymore. If he really didn’t want you there, he would have long since kicked you out by now. So, you drag your sleeping bag up beside the mech’s hand— Starscream lifting it out of reflex as you approach.

“No, you can stay there!” You assure him, fully unzipping your bag. “Uh, if you don’t mind me next to you, that is.”

The mech rolls his optics, shifting to the side to allow you some breathing room with a grumble. You offer a little chuckle as thanks as, at last, you slip into your sleeping bag, zipping it up to about halfway up your torso.

Then, you cast your gaze up into the stars.

The sparkling dots looked as though they were dancing gently in their places. While you couldn’t tell them very much apart, it was certainly a much better view here than from your apartment window. It was no wonder why Starscream liked the view so much.

“…hey, Starscream?” You try.

“What is it?” He replies in a low grumble, looking down at you from the corner of his eye.

“You said you were an alien, right?”

He huffs a pompous laugh, “A Cybertronian, yes.”

“So… is your planet up there somewhere?”

And you’re met with silence.

“Starscream?” You repeat.

“…yes,” he finally answers— though his tone is softer than you had ever heard from him before.

You shift from lying down to resting your weight onto your elbows behind you. “Is it visible from here?”

There’s another huff, but it’s more resigned this time. “No. Though I know its general location from this angle.”

You lean forwards, squinting— trying to get an idea of where Starscream had been looking just from the perspective of his head. But then, you suddenly pull yourself backwards as something slowly raises itself before you.

A single, dark navy servo.

You look between the hand and Starscream’s face for a moment, dumbfounded— but you decide to just take the chance and hop on. He wasn’t even looking at you, who knows how long this offer would last? Leaving your sleeping bag behind, you clamber into his palm, and the very moment you’re settled down is when Starscream raises you into the air, level with his chest.

With his free servo, he points northwest. “There. Just past that cluster of stars.”

You squint again, trying your best to follow his pointed digit. You wished you were more astronomically adept. “The… the group of seven or eight stars there, all bundled up against each other?”

Starscream nods. “There, thousands upon thousands of lightyears away, lies Cybertron.”

[zhouxiangs]

it is day six of losing my mind over the peteway hand-holding, what came before, what came after, and what may or may not come later, and today i am thinking about the importance of touch.

or most importantly, of touch as a gesture.

because there's the touch itself, which as two enigmas with touch-based powers that are probably touch-starved for genuine consensual purposeful touch (thank you @marinacourage, i am never recovering from reading those words strung together in that order) is... already a lot. we can infer from what we've been shown/how deliberately they focus on it every time that both their powers work by touching people with their hands, which i imagine must be incredibly alienating for both of them, albeit for different reasons, but specially so for pete who (unlike way who also has to verbally issue a command) seems to need only to touch someone to invade the privacy of their mind even if he doesn't want to.

so, the act of touch alone is incredibly intimate for both of them.

once everything is out in the open, when they both know the other is an enigma and what his powers are, and way knows that pete has been using his power every time he touches him to read his mind, pete could just stop touching him. which is what he does at first.

but then there's my favourite part: both the intent and the manner of the touch. because pete withdraws, but not because he doesn't need or want to keep touching way; he does it because he was using his power surreptitiously, and now he doesn't need to.

pete reaches towards way again, and not only touches him: he slides his own hand in between way's and touches their palms together. pete is touching way, but he makes sure that way is touching him, too. and just like when he bared his neck earlier, pete is putting himself in way's hands, at way's mercy; he can read way's mind, but way can control him if he wants, either to make him back off or anything else. and way doesn't, nor does he draw back even if he looks at pete in surprise.

because pete is showing way he believes in him. he's telling him as much, saying "don't let obligation or fear make you not dare to decide to do the right thing. you are worth more than daddy says". saying "you always have a choice. you still have the right to choose, way".

but he's also telling him with his touch, with the palms of their hands resting together. "i see you", "you are not alone", "i'm here, and i believe in you", "your past sins will not drive me away. wounded hearts can still be cared for".

and also, because of how pete looks at way and because of how emotionally charged this moment is, i cannot help but think about the metaphor of "and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss" in act 1, scene 5 of shakespeare's romeo and juliet; juliet's evocation of a palmer touching the hand of a saint's statue as an almost holy and transformative experience. a kiss with hands.

[pagesfromthevoid]

A Real Nightmare | a.a. | 3

Astarion x fem!tav

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Brief mentions of sex. A little bit of angst. Mild trauma bonding.

Author's Note: I really did plan on them banging in this part but then I got in my feelings and then....this happened.

Talk to Me! | Series Masterlist | AO3

She jolted awake, the darkness of her surroundings swallowing her confusion. A hand gripped her shoulder, pulling her from the clutches of sleep. Her heart raced as she tried to make sense of it all. This wasn't the familiar touch of Asterion, nor the comforting confines of her camp. Panic clawed at her throat, threatening to choke her.

"You're awake, good," came a voice, gentle yet urgent. It felt like a lifeline in the sea of uncertainty that engulfed her. With trembling hands, she reached out to grasp at the reality slipping through her fingers.

As she struggled to focus, she noticed the figure before her, bathed in an otherworldly glow. His armor gleamed like starlight, and his eyes held a wisdom that seemed to stretch beyond time itself. He was graying around the edges, the only indication of his age. Recognition flickered within her, a memory just out of reach.

"I know your voice," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've heard it before."

He nodded, a somber acknowledgment passing between them. "We have met," he confirmed, his words carrying the weight of shared history. "More than once."

She tried to piece together the fragments of memory, but slipped through her fingers. Something about a shipwreck, a beach strewn with wreckage and the promise of salvation. His presence felt like a thread connecting her past to her present, weaving a tapestry of destiny.

"We have met," he repeated, drawing her attention back to the present. "But now, I am here to save you again, Tav."

Her name echoed in the caverns of her mind, a beacon in the darkness. She followed him, stepping into a realm that felt both alien and achingly familiar. Reality twisted and contorted around her, a surreal landscape painted with the brushstrokes of possibility.

"Don't worry, love," he reassured, his voice a lifeline in the storm. "You will not become a mind flayer, not while I'm around. I will protect you."

She hesitated, uncertainty gnawing at her resolve. But his hand extended towards her, offering solace amidst the chaos. With trembling fingers, she reached out, her touch igniting a spark of recognition deep within her soul.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"There is a great potential within you," he explained, his words like a guiding light in the darkness. "But you must learn to wield it."

She struggled to comprehend the magnitude of his words, the weight of the future resting upon her shoulders. But before she could protest, he ushered her forward, unveiling a vision of turmoil and strife. Was he truly asking her to accept this parasite writhing in her mind? Promises were meaningless when he wouldn’t even tell her his name. Worthless when she couldn’t even trust her own mind.

"What you see is a fight for the very fate of Faerun," he explained, his voice grave with solemnity. "A fight we are losing—for now."

She watched in silence as spectral beings descended upon a ship, their presence a harbinger of doom. Fear clutched at her heart, threatening to consume her whole.

"You can change that, Tav," he implored, his eyes burning with determination. "But only if you embrace your potential."

She hesitated, the weight of his words settling like a cloak around her shoulders. But as she watched the chaos unfold before her, a fire ignited within her soul. 

"I don't understand," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

But before she could seek clarification, he was gone, leaving her alone in the void. Reality shattered around her, fragments of truth swirling like leaves in the wind.

And then, with a gasp, she awoke, the remnants of the vision fading like wisps of smoke. 

Sitting up in her bedroll, Tav took in her surroundings with a sense of disorientation. She wasn't outside by the fire where she fell asleep earlier in the night. Instead, she found herself within the confines of someone's tent. Looking around for a moment, trying to get her bearings straight, she realized it was Astarion's tent that she was occupying now.

Outside, a storm raged on, the sound of rain pounding against the canvas creating a backdrop to her thoughts. She pulled her knees to her chest, noting the scattered belongings and the subtle signs of occupation. Astarion must have brought her inside from the rain, she deduced, her gaze lingering on his wet clothes strewn across the floor. 

Then she noticed her own clothes were on the floor as well and for a moment, she panicked, looking over herself. However, she was dressed –sort of, at least. It was one of Asterion's night shirts –loose and a bit tattered on closer inspection –but dry against her otherwise rain slicked skin. While she wasn’t wearing anything beyond the shirt and her underwear, she wondered why Astarion, of all people, decided to bring her in from the storm.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement from where he stood perched at the flap of his tent. He wasn't looking at her –instead keeping his eyes out on the storm. Her eyes trailed over the markings on his back, exposed skin raised into scars that covered the entirety of his pale flesh. He had explained them previously, having gone on a bit of a personal tirade about Cazador and the torture forced on Astarion. Tav had listened intently that night –only for him to blow it off like it wasn’t clearly traumatizing for him.  "Someone’s finally awake –I hope whatever dream was keeping you so occupied was worth soaking everything you own.”

“I…yeah, I guess it was,” she managed to say, though she didn’t know how to explain what she had experienced in her dreams. She wondered, momentarily, if any of the others had a similar dream. “Have you tranced tonight, yet?”

Astarion shook his head, finally turning away from the storm to look down at her. “Too much is happening to properly rest, I’m afraid. Perhaps tomorrow. Besides –you are using my bedroll.”

Silence filled the space between them for a beat, with Tav still processing everything that had happened in her dream. His eyes were on her, piercing and analytical, even as he moved through his tent and collected a book from the stack beside her. 

“I didn’t mean to take over your space,” she finally sighed, running a hand through her wet hair. “Thank you for bringing me inside.”

Astarion snatched two of the larger cushions she had been laying on and tossed them to the side, sitting down on them himself. His legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed, and he opened the book in his hands, his attention no longer on her.

Then he shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as his eyes scanned the pages of his book. "No harm done," he replied, waving one hand dismissively. "Consider it repayment of sorts…for the blood. And besides –I couldn’t bear the idea of drinking from someone ill, Tav. The sickly don’t taste nearly as good as the healthy.”

Stretching her bare legs in front of her once more, Tav raised a brow at him as she tried to read the title of his book. Noble Blood, Common Heart, a silly little romance novel that she had picked up from one of the villages they had traveled through. Most of the books she snagged she simply left in the camp for whoever wanted to read them. Something about Astarion choosing a romance novel was almost funny to her.

“Do you like it?” She asked, motioning to the book in his hands. “I haven’t had a chance to read it yet.”

He glanced over the top of the book, eyeing her closely for a moment before he closed it. “It fills the void.”

“The void of…what, exactly?” 

“Desire, boredom, lust –whatever fits the bill,” he explained simply, returning his attention to the book. Tav’s brows furrowed in thought, trying to understand what in the hells he meant by the comment. He must have sensed her confusion because he drawled out, “Sex, my dear. It fills the void of wanting to have sex.”

At that, she barked out a laugh and looked at him funny. “I can’t imagine any book filling the void of actual intimacy, but to each their own, I suppose.”

Astarion chuckled, a sound that held a hint of mischief. "Ah, but you underestimate the power of literature, my dear Tav," he retorted, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Words have a way of stirring the imagination, igniting passions that transcend the physical realm."

Tav raised an eyebrow, skeptical yet intrigued by his words. "So, you're saying that reading about it is just as satisfying as the real thing?"

He shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Perhaps not quite as satisfying, but it certainly offers a...distraction," he replied cryptically, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

She shook her head, unable to suppress a smile at his audacity. "Well, I suppose everyone has their own way of coping with desire," she conceded, her tone laced with amusement. "Though I’m certain there’s better distractions out here than books.”

“Are there?” He questioned, setting the book down now to finally give his full attention back to her. “Unless you’re suggesting you may be a better distraction.”

“I –what? No, I was just –I meant –,”

“You’re too pretty when you blush, love,” he teased, resting his chin in his hand as he looked her over. “All hot and bothered and I’m not even doing anything to cause it.”

Tav bit her cheek, feeling the heat rushing to her up her chest and to her ears. Astarion was too good at getting her flustered –or hot and bothered as he put it –and he was right. He wasn’t even trying to. Which only frustrated Tav more.

“If you want to have sex with me, you only have to say so,” he continued to tease, brow raised in a way that could only be described as seductive. 

“I don’t want to —I mean, of course I want to, but I don’t want…I just —,” she couldn’t manage to get the words out, embarrassed by the shift in conversation. 

There wasn’t any reason to deny her desires for the spawn in front of her. And it wasn’t as if she was some inexperienced girl; what she lacked in friends in Otherus was made up for in bed mates when she felt inclined. But that didn’t make this conversation any less embarrassing. 

She did want to sleep with him; but she wanted more than that —at least, she thought she did. She liked Astarion for all his flaws, and while she wasn’t in love with him by any means, she could certainly see herself loving him. 

More importantly though, she knew that what he was offering —a tryst in his tent —was his way of repaying her for letting him feed off of her every night. As if he owed her anything for ensuring he was strong enough. And Tav couldn’t bear the thought that he might actually think so lowly of her that all she’d want was sex from him. 

“I do want to sleep with you, Astarion,” she finally admitted, covering her face with her hands for a moment. “What I don’t want is for you to feel like you have to.”

This must have caught the elf off guard, because his brows knitted together in confusion as he sat silently for a few seconds. But his smirk returned —though it wasn’t the same as before. It was timid, not all there. 

“I can assure you, darling, if I didn’t want to —I wouldn’t be offering.”

She eyed him cautiously before finally standing and making her way to his side of the tent. Even with all her caution, she could see his shoulders tensing up as she approached. 

“I don’t want you to want me because you think that’s all I want, Astarion,” she explained, sitting on her knees in front of him. Her hands rested in her lap. “I want you to want me because that’s what you truly want. Not repayment, not obligation —not some trick you think will work on me because I’m naive. Because it is something you want for yourself.”

Astarion opened his mouth to comment, but shut it just as quick. Slowly, he sat up, the facade of the charming rogue slipping just enough that she was able to see the confusion –the fear, really –behind his eyes. While it was easy to assume that everyone she had managed to bring together had some sort of trauma they needed to sort through, something about the way Astarion held himself in this moment said quite a bit.

“You have a choice,” she finally said as he rested on his knees in front of her. “You know what I want –but I can and I will take ‘no’ for an answer if you do not want the same as I do.”

“Why?”

She wasn’t sure he meant to ask that, because his brows knit together and he snapped his mouth shut immediately after asking. But she hesitantly reached out to take his hand. And when he didn’t pull away, she rested her other on top of his, holding it carefully.

“Because we all deserve a choice, Astarion,” she promised, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I know what it’s like to lose my choice to say no, and I will never take that from someone else. Even if that someone happens to think he doesn’t have a choice.”

“I…,” Astarion trailed off, resting his free hand over hers now, their hands stacked on one another’s. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I do love when I leave you speechless,” she teased, mimicking his accent dramatically –easing out of the tension that had filled the tent.

Astarion laughed –an actual, proper laugh with a smile that she had never seen on him before –and Tav decided in that moment she would find more ways to bring him little bits of joy.

[your-local-grubdog]

Pikmin 4: Heritage Theory

Warning for MAJOR Pikmin 4 spoilers, including: various end of day conversations, post-credit events, late game piklopedia and treasure hoard entries, and also the final boss.

As a sort of re-boot of the franchise, Pikmin 4 introduces a lot of new ideas to the series. Among them is the idea that the various alien species in the game are much more closely related than we first realized - and perhaps more connected to PNF-404 than we would have ever thought in the other three games. I wanted to go over the various texts in the game that touch on this idea and talk about them a little because, hoo boy, the IMPLICATIONS. I call it a theory in the title for a lack of better wording but it honestly just feels like a canon fact that's never directly stated. There's just that much evidence, much of which all but outright says what happened.

Apologies if the images are a little low quality, Tumblr crunched them up badly. I provide image descriptions so hopefully that makes up for it.

As this has many end game spoilers (which, final warning for those), I'm going to assume that anyone reading beyond this point knows the basics of the game's story, world, and characters. Thus I won't be explaining every last little thing.

Somewhat early on, Olimar makes the following observation in his Voyage Log:

[ALT ID: Olimar's Voyage Log, entry 60, "Lost Civilization": Some of the objects I call treasure seem to be more complex than they initially appear. It makes me wonder... who made these? And where are they? I don't sense their presence here at all, but I suppose they could be hiding in the shadows, secretly watching me. END ID]

This vaguely threatening entry does confirm that the characters, or at least Olimar, are aware that there was indeed a civilization on PNF-404 at some point. It should also be noted that the Japanese website includes notes from another character who is also aware of the ancient civilization, though the canonicity of it is debatable. I'll get back to that "they're in the shadows, watching" line in another post, as it presents its own can of worms. For now, what matters is that the characters are aware that this planet was once inhabited and Nintendo is drawing attention towards that.

Where this starts to get weird and interesting is with Olimar's Treasure Hoard entries on the Heroic Shield, Memory Fragment (Center Right), and Buddy Display. I can't show all of their text in just one screenshot and the pikipedia hasn't added every treasure note to the Pikmin 4 treasures as of writing, so I'll only be including the segments most related to this conversation.

[ALT ID 1: Treasure Hoard, Olimar's Notes, Heroic Shield (segment): That would mean these living beings must have looked something like us... I wonder who they were and what their faces looked like. Could they have been our ancestors who migrated through space to our planet long ago? (the treasure is a pin showing the helmet of a human-style spacesuit) END ID 1]

[ALT ID 2: Treasure Hoard, Olimar's Notes, Memory Fragment (Center Right) (segment): I'm amazed that such a similar species could exist in the far reaches of outer space. I've heard that organic components can travel through space on meteorites and comets. Could there be a connection between my planet and this one? (treasure is of a puzzle piece with part of a dog's face on it) END ID 2]

[ALT ID 3: Treasure Hoard, Olimar's Notes, Buddy Display (segment): I can't find any evidence of them in any of the existing creature databases. But there's something familiar about them. It's almost as if I've met them before... I guess I'll chalk it up to an ancient memory that's been imprinted on my genome. (treasure is a photograph of two earth dogs) END ID 3]

There is so much to unpack here alone. Olimar straight up theorizes that there may be a connection between PNF-404 and Hocotate, even going to far as to propose if maybe the people of PNF-404 (or at least the people who made the Heroic Shield) may be his ancient ancestors. He does also theorize that a meteorite may have carried "organic components", which is technically possible, but I'm not sure how that would occur in a way that carries said components from one non-destroyed planet to another and leading to creatures evolving in eerily similar ways. Honestly, I'll chalk that one up to an early theory of his, a red herring on Nintendo's part, and thus not something to think about too much. Especially sense, in the Buddy Display, he considers his ability to somewhat recognize Earth dogs as an "ancient memory... imprinted on my genome". While I'm not sure of the science behind such a claim, we also have to take this from a story telling perspective - which is that Nintendo is all but screaming "there is a connection here". Not just in relation to the aliens and the planets, but also in relation to the dogs.

Speaking of the dogs, Olimar's notes on the final boss of the game presents yet more evidence to a connection - this time focusing more on the connection between Earth dogs and space dogs.

[ALT ID 1: Piklopedia, Olimar's notes, Ancient Sirehound (segment): These results would indicate that 99.9 percent of the canine creature's DNA matches Oatchi's, and that the only difference between Oatchi and Moss may be the natural presence or absence of a leaf tail. END ID 1]

[ALT IDs 2 and 3, as one naturally leads into the other: Piklopedia, Olimar's notes, Ancient Sirehound (segment): If these two theories prove to be true, it would suggest the possibility that this ancient creature is a common ancestor to two canine species from vastly remote star systems. And that, perhaps, there are even more hidden secrets out there that could hint at a fascinating yet inconceivable truth the universe has yet to reveal... END IDs 2 AND 3]

I'm not sure what else to say here; the evidence speaks for itself. The Ancient Sirehound and Moss - both from PNF-404 - closely match the genetics of Oatchi, who is from an entirely different part of the universe. For the Sirehound to be genetically related to Oatchi, then members of the Sirehound's species would have had to leave PNF-404 and migrate to other planets. Their care takers - humans - would have had to go with them.

I also find it worth pointing out that the Sirehound's arena is filled with various human items, such as shoes and toys. It's honestly a little haunting to find them so deep in a dark cave, unused by humans for who knows how long. The ruined toys in particular really get to me. We don't know how old the Ancient Sirehound in particular is, but the idea that humans once hid in this cave from something or that their dog brought the items here for comfort is really depressing.

[ALT IDs: various hard-to-see images of the human items in question, including: pillows, pipes. gardening tools, a fork, adult sized shoes, baby sized shoes, various children's toys, and other objects I couldn't quite make out. All of them are either partly submerged in water or at the very edge of water, leaving them covered in mud. END IDs]

I think by now it's safe to say that, yes, humans left Earth with their dogs at some point in time. Yet there are still MORE pieces of evidence to suggest this idea, this time coming from Shepherd's family history. Because we really needed to be beat over the head with evidence, I suppose. All are presented in numerical order as shown in-game.

[ALT ID 1: Rescue Journal, Shepherd Family History, entry 1: Thanks to the technology that has come from space exploration, our lives have grown much easier and far safer, and on-planet rescue requests have decreased dramatically. But as migration into space continues to grow, our services continue to be needed. So I'm happy to announce we are extending our rescue services to the frontiers of space! Signed, Paniya Shepherd, 82nd Captain. END ID 1]

[ALT ID 2: Rescue Journal, Shepherd Family History, entry 2: We've done it at last! We have flown to space! Out in this great, limitless expanse, not a sound can be heard. And yet, I can still clearly hear the pounding of my own heartbeat. Space--how it overflows with possibilities! There can be no doubt. This is one giant leap forward for our kind. Signed, Ed Shepherd, 65th Captain. END ID 2]

[ALT ID 3: Rescue Journal, Shepherd Family History, entry 6: The Shepherd family has lived with dogs from the very beginning. We understand that if we love and respect these creatures as we do our own--if we pay attention and observe their behavior closely--then we can break down the walls between our species and truly understand one another. Signed, Kain Shepherd, 16th Captain. END ID 3]

[ALT ID 4: Rescue Journal, Shepherd Family History, entry 7: "Beyond the sky itself there lies a beautiful blue planet." Those words have been passed down from captain to captain, calling to each of us. I can't imagine what sort of place this blue planet might be, but it's said to be home to even more dogs and folks that we have here. One day, I hope to fly beyond the sky...and into space. Signed, Maris Shepherd, 7th Captain. END ID 4]

[ALT ID 5: Rescue Journal, Shepherd Family History, entry 8: Many years have passed since we first began to make this land our new home. Still, we need more time to complete our environmental adaptations. In the meantime, we must survive so that, one day, we can pass down this new history to our children, and pass down the ways we've learned to rescue and protect everyone. One day we will live here in peace. Signed, Mark Shepherd, 2nd Captain. END ID 5]

[ALT ID 6: Rescue Journal, Shepherd Family History, entry 9: The surface! We made it at last! Finally, we can begin making a fresh start here on this planet. Of course, it will take many long months and years before what we've built here will be anything like what we once had. But we won't be alone. Our beloved dogs will be by our side as we walk this long, difficult road. Signed, Aral Shepherd, 1st Captain. END ID 6]

There is so much here, all confirming that ancient Giyans (and Captain Shephard's direct ancestors) 1) migrated to this new planet in search of a "fresh start" and 2) proceeded to migrate to other parts of space many generations latter. It also hints that they know of a "blue planet" - a common nickname for Earth - which is home to more people and dogs. Most certainly, it is the planet they came from - making Giyans human, or at least an evolution of humanity, and perhaps all other alien races in Pikmin 4 (from Hocotations to Koppaites to Ohrians to Conohanins to anyone else from the twenty one named planets (excluding PNF-404) in the series) are also descendent from Giyans. It would explain why they all look so similar in game - though we can safely assume that Hocotations are at least descendent from Giyans based on Olimar's notes. Further more, the leafling cure requires cells from a non-leafified individual who is genetically similar to the individual in question. We're never told how Yonny gets these cells (and, given we're talking about Yonny, I'm too afraid to even ask) but the fact that the medicine works for anyone regardless of what their home planet is suggests that they are, in fact, more or less the same species.

How different the various aliens look from Humans is easily chalked up to evolution. We know minor changes in height could, theoretically, happen within just one or two generations spent on a planet with different gravity than Earth's. It would make sense that this would be exacerbated over many many more generations, especially if the gravity is much stronger. Which, to quote the Pikipedia, "According to Brittany, the gravity on Koppai is roughly ten times stronger than on PNF-404." Given their matching heights, it's probably safe to assume similar applies to the other planets, and thus over the generations the people shrunk. Again, the exact scientific validity of this is questionable, but given the semi-fantastical nature of Pikmin I believe we can suspend our disbelief enough to let this story work. We already have to do that for how the Pikmin as a species function, after all. As for oxygen becoming toxic in the 8th history entry Mark Shephard does state that "we need more time to complete our environmental adaptations". Be these natural or artificially induced (as he is only of the second generation), it is again safe to suspend our disbelief to say that humans just adapted to these new worlds. Besides, Koppaites at the very least retained (or possibly gained back?) the ability to tolerate at least low amounts of oxygen.

The real problems come in the time frame and the loss of history. It's never stated one way or the other if people are aware of their ultimate connections back to Giya, so I won't discuss that, but it is very obvious they have forgotten their connection to Earth/PNF-404. Furthermore, it's made clear that the Giyans lost the ability to travel through space by the 7th generation and only regained it by the 65th. If they had access to space flight, they would certainly have archives of their heritage - and they do indeed seem to have some idea of what it is, given how Earth has become a legend. Yet, the Shephard family history as far back as the migration to Giya was preserved - why not anything else? The inconsistencies and questions make this part of the tale hard for me to ignore, yet we have no answers. This is pure speculation, but if I had to provide an answer I think a solar flare hit Giya and destroyed their technology, making them start over. Perhaps these early Giyain-Humans were so reliant on technology at this point that there were no books or oral traditions to preserve this heritage lost when the tech was destroyed? Though, somehow, the Shephard family would have to be one of if not the exception to this. Again, the previous is pure speculation, but it's the best we can do for the time being.

There's also the question of when and how Earth dogs changed to look like the Sirehound, which would of had to happen before the migration to space given that Oatchi has the same body plan. And then why did Moss's species become so much smaller?

Still, even with all these plot holes, I think it's pretty damn clear that Nintendo intended for our favorite little aliens to be the evolutionary decedents of humans. How and if they'll use this plot point remains to be seen, but it does open up a whole bag of opportunities for the universe of Pikmin. One that, frankly, deserves to be explored.

[worstamongequals]

Deadly

— “This crazy bitch is trying to kill me.”

“Hmm, I wonder why.”

Eddie Brock x Vigilante!Reader

You and Eddie had been working together for months now: you, Karma, in your hooded disguise, and Eddie masked by Venom. The Lethal Protectors started working with you after coming across you in an alley one night, where they watched you single-handedly take down a would-be rapist, and Venom offered to eat his head. You and Eddie have never revealed your identities to each other, but tonight, you’re forced to when Eddie takes you back to his apartment for a patch-up after a really bad fight.

word count: 3k

Holy fucking shit. Eddie watched in awe as you handed that guy’s ass to him. You, whoever you are, wearing a protective suit with a mask covering your face, the visor glinting in what little light illuminated the alley. We should help her, Eddie. No, buddy, I think she’s got it.

The man grunted when your knuckles connected with his cheekbone once more and he dropped to his knees. “Come on, man, if you’d have just said she was your girl, I’d have left her alone.” You buried your boot in his stomach and he curled into a ball on the cold pavement.

“That’s your problem, pal.” Your voice was all ice and poison. It occurred to Eddie that the man you were currently kicking the shit out of hadn’t realized you weren’t a man. “You should’ve left her alone because she said leave me alone, not because you think she belongs to some other guy.” Eddie heard a loud crack and suddenly the man yelped in pain. You broke a rib that time.

“Please,” He begged. “Don’t do this.”

“Oh?” You paused, drawing a knife from some unseen hiding place and pressing the blade against his throat. “Are those words suddenly supposed to mean something now? Coming from you?”

The man fell silent, save for a wheezing sound whenever he breathed. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, like a fish gasping for air.

“You didn’t seem to think those words held any weight earlier.” The blade of your knife pressed deeper into his skin, releasing a thin trickle of blood. “Speak.”

“I-I just,” He stammered. “Please.”

“Hmm,” You hummed liltingly, as if considering his plea. “I’m gonna go with no.”

You put your foot to his shoulder and pushed him down, until he was flat on his back, lying in a puddle of what Eddie could only hope was the man’s own piss. You pulled a gun from the holster at your back, cocking it and aiming it right between his eyes.

“Good fucking night, you piece of shit.”

“Wait!” Venom leapt down from the roof he had been perched on. You stepped back, adjusting your stance so your gun was now pointed at Venom and your knife was back against the man’s throat. “Allow me to make you an offer.”

“I’m listening.” You tried to steady your voice, but it was difficult to sound cool and collected when you were confronted by this 7 foot, oily black alien thing, with rows of teeth and milky white eyes. But Eddie silently commended you for standing your ground.

“I will eat his head. For you.”

“You-” You stuttered, shocked, but also… pleased? “Who are you?”

“We are Venom, the Lethal Protector.”

“Uh… cool.” You lowered your gun. “I’m Karma.”

“You’re a bitch.” The man on the ground spat.

“Oh yeah? You think so?” You gently dragged your knife down his neck and chest, coming to a stop at the waistline of his pants. Ignoring his panicked shouts, you cut through the jeans and boxers, digging the serrated blade into the base of his weapon of choice. “Right, well karma is a fucking bitch, isn’t she?” You sawed halfway through before you stepped back, almost as if admiring your work. He won’t be using that anymore. Then you looked at Venom and gestured towards the man on the floor. “Be my guest.”

Venom devoured him. And this time, Eddie was glad he did it. Venom wanted to eat brains, and Eddie didn’t want innocent people to die. This was their perfect target group. Someone who deserved to be violently removed from this spinning rock.

“My partner would like to speak to you.”

Eddie could picture your eyes widening underneath your mask. “Who?”

Venom’s face peeled back, revealing a smaller, human face underneath. You tried to get a clear look, to figure out if this was someone you knew or someone you should be able to recognize later, but Venom distorted Eddie’s face just enough so that although you could tell you were now speaking to a human man, you couldn’t make out any identifying characteristics. “Hi,” He said, somewhat awkwardly. You cocked your head to the side - his voice didn’t match his hulking figure at all. “We are Venom. And I’d like to make a deal with you.”

- - -

You grunted when your back slammed into the brick wall behind you. Sucking in a ragged breath, you forced yourself back up onto your feet. Eddie admired that about you. You sniffed, dragging the back of your hand across your nose, only taking a second to acknowledge the blood that came away on your hand. “You’re going to regret that. And everything else you did tonight.”

“You crazy bitch,” The guy’s fists were up, but he looked tired. Not much of a fighter. “I didn’t do anything wrong. She wanted it. You’re just a fucking cockblock-”

“More like chopping block.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“Come find out.” Two knives slid out of their sheaths and into your hands with a shink sound. The man pulled out his baton, gripping it tightly in his sweaty hand. You’d never liked batons - they were fucking brutal. Anyone whose weapon of choice was a baton made your stomach churn; it took a special kind of sick to be comfortable beating someone to death. “She wanted it.” He repeated, mostly to himself.

“None of them did.” You tightened your grip on your knives. “The only thing you protect and serve is yourself.” You launched yourself forward, dodging his first swing of the baton and landing a deep cut on his forearm. He hissed in pain and if looks could kill, you’d be dead. He reached for the radio clipped to his belt. “This is Foxtrot-22, I am in need of assistance-”

You shoved your hand underneath his chin, against the top of his throat, forcing him to step backward if he wanted to continue breathing. “I don’t think so.” You plucked the radio out of his hands, resting your thumb above the talk button. “Repeat after me.”

“You cun- AGH-” You pushed your hand harder into his throat.

“This is Foxtrot-22.” You nodded, signaling him to speak. You clicked the radio on.

“This is Foxtrot-22.”

“And I need to be held accountable for my crimes.”

“I need-” He paused. “Help, Code 8, at my last location-” He knocked you off balance, and you tripped over his discarded baton. You let out an angry, inhuman sound when your palms slammed into the compacted gravel. You flipped over almost immediately, already reaching back to grab your gun when a heavy boot connected with your face. “Fuck!” You fired off a single shot but missed when the man landed a solid kick to your ribs. You dropped the gun, arms immediately moving to cover your abdomen to protect yourself from his unforgiving blows. You heard the gun skittering across the pavement and were suddenly acutely aware of the ever-shrinking number of weapons you had left at your disposal. You pulled a small blade from a hidden holster at your belt and sliced it across the man’s Achilles' tendon, and he let out an animalistic howl of pain. Blinded by white-hot rage, he brought his baton down on you over and over again. You tried your best to gain back your control over the situation, but he got the drop on you. Black spots dotted your vision. That was when Venom came sliding down the rooftop.

“Oh shit.” This stopped the man in his tracks.

“What seems to be the problem here?” The question might’ve sounded neutral enough, but Venom was circling the man like a shark after its prey, eyeing him as if he couldn’t decide which part to eat first.

The man gulped, seemingly aware of his hopeless situation. That didn’t stop him from trying to talk his way out of it. “This crazy bitch is trying to kill me.”

“Hmm, I wonder why.” Venom smiled big. He ran his tongue across the front of his teeth before biting the man’s head clean off at the shoulders. “I never liked the taste of pig.” Venom turned, partially revealing Eddie’s face to you. “You okay?”

You coughed, clutching at your ribs in pain before spitting out blood. Should ribs move this way? Gingerly reaching your fingers under your mask, you touched your face, and you could feel the print left by the man’s heavy work boots. Nose is definitely not supposed to bend that way. The world grew fuzzy and dark. “No.” You mumbled, before fading away.

Venom immediately retreated back into Eddie. Eddie paled, staring at your limp figure that was now slumped back against the squad car of Venom’s most recent snack. He shook his head, forcing himself back into the moment.

Eddie rushed forward, gently placing his hands against your rib cage. Two, maybe three, broken? Carefully, he picked you up and carried you out of the alley.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” Eddie muttered.

I can heal her, Eddie.

I need to get her somewhere safe.

And Venom took over again, holding you close to his chest, bounding from rooftop to rooftop until he reached Eddie’s apartment. He slid down the side of the building and landed on the sidewalk before melting away until Eddie was all that was left.

Eddie carried you up the stairs, adjusting his grip on you every few steps. He was afraid to drop you or bump your ribs the wrong way. He had to fight the urge to stop and check your breathing every two minutes. When he finally got you inside, he laid you down gently on his couch and checked your pulse.

Allow me.

Your eyebrows scrunched up when Venom vanished into your skin. Something cold wrapped itself around Eddie’s heart and squeezed as he watched Venom mend your broken bones.

- - -

When you woke up, you were warm. Wrapped in a blanket that smelled like a laundry detergent you’d never used. You opened your eyes slowly, afraid of the pain you knew you’d be in and the bruises that most definitely covered your body.

“Hey, good morning,”

Instantaneously forgetting to move slowly, your eyes flew open and you shot up into a seated position. “Venom?”

“Uhh…” He hesitated. “You can just call me Eddie.”

“I don’t remember any- Where-”

“You’re in my apartment, you were hurt really bad. I carried you here,” You turned to face Eddie, surprised to see him on the floor, wrapped in a blanket. “Venom healed you.”

Your hands flew to your face when you realized that Eddie was doing nothing to obscure his face from your view. “Oh no, no, don't worry,” Eddie reached out his hands in a calming gesture. You relaxed when your fingertips met the material that still covered your face. “I left your mask on. Never saw your face. Venom just attached to you for long enough to fix your broken bones.”

“Thanks,” You murmured. You looked around at his apartment. “Nice place.” Then you looked out the window. The moon was shining. “How long was I out?”

“It’s just been a couple hours.” He frowned down at his phone. “It’s 3 AM right now.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say next. You’d never interacted with Venom outside of kicking the shit out of assholes, and this was your first time meeting just Eddie.

Say something to her.

No, what the fuck? Let her go back to sleep.

“My face hurts.” And suddenly your eyes welled with tears. You squeezed them shut, glad to be wearing a mask.

“I can get you some Tylenol.”

Your lower lip quivered. “I can’t swallow pills.”

“Oh, that’s fine.” Eddie smiled at you. “I have these bad boys.” He set a small packet of dissolving Tylenol powder on your knee.

A laugh/sob combo clawed its way out of your throat when you picked up the packet. “Thanks.” You tore it open and flipped up the bottom part of your mask so that the lower half of your face was uncovered.

“Holy shit.”

“What?”

“N-nothing.”

“What.”

“Your face…” Eddie trailed off. “Are you… Wait here. Don’t move.” He practically leapt to his feet, rushing off to another room before returning with baby wipes and a first aid kit. “Do you want me to clean you up?”

You froze. “How do I know you won’t tell anyone who I am?”

“You know me now.” His smile was lopsided. Cute. “If I expose you, you expose me. Even trade.”

You silently pulled the mask off your face.

Eddie failed to hide his grimace. “That bad, huh?” You joked. He smiled apologetically, not bothering to stumble over his words in a feeble attempt to convince you that he never made a face. You appreciate that about him.

You made space for Eddie on the couch, sitting with your legs crossed. Eddie sat facing you, one leg pulled up between you and the other hanging over the edge.

“I mean, you took a boot to the face. It’s to be expected.” Eddie gently wiped your face, careful to not rub too hard.

Five minutes later, he had a small pile of red and pink-tinged wipes next to him and was diligently working at bandaging the scrapes on your face. You found yourself staring into his eyes until he met your gaze, at which point you would quickly look everywhere but him.

“You’re really pretty.” The words fell from his lips and he looked almost surprised at himself for letting them escape. Your eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Eddie had refused to bring you a mirror, but you could feel the swelling around your left eye and the many band-aids that Eddie had applied with care. “That’s not funny.”

“Wasn’t a joke.”

The two of you sat in silence for a few more moments, until he moved the first aid kit aside and leaned back, satisfied with the care he’d given you. You fumbled with your mask, running your fingers over the stained material. “Thank you, you really didn’t have to do this.”

“Isn’t this what friends are for?”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Friends?”

“Yeah, I mean… we’ve been a team for a few months now, I’d say we’re friends.” Eddie didn’t meet your gaze. He couldn’t. Eddie had never wanted to speculate on what you looked like underneath the mask, or who you were during the day. Nothing he imagined could compare with what little he already knew about the kind of person you were, so why bother making something up? He’d also never asked. You wore a mask for a reason, Eddie reminded himself. He wanted to respect your privacy. But maybe… Maybe part of him was worried about what he’d find out about you if he ever bothered to do any digging. If he got to know who you were, he might find out something he didn’t want to know. Maybe you had a partner of the non-ass-kicking variety. A life partner. 2.5 kids and a dog in a yard with a white picket fence. I could eat the dog. Shut up. All of the above. Any of the above. It’d crush him. So yeah, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you for too long, because if he did, all he could think about was the next time he’d get to see you without the mask. Eddie already knew you were a fantastic person and a fucking badass. But to top it all off… You were beautiful. He never gave himself permission to wonder what you looked like, but seeing you here, now, you were better than anything he could’ve imagined anyway. Your eyes, your nose, your lips, everything was just so you. It was too much. You needed to leave. Or maybe he should leave. You were the one who had broken ribs 5 hours ago-

“Eddie.” Your voice pulled him out of his spiral and he looked at you. And then you told him your name. Your real name.

He repeated it after you. “Sounds familiar, do I know you from somewhere?”

“No, you’d remember if you did.” You smiled at him in a way that made his heart skip a beat.

Eddie laughed nervously, and the silence settled around you once more. You thrummed your fingers against your thigh, an anxious habit of yours that Eddie had clocked during your first few nights working together. “Can I-” Eddie cleared his throat. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Can I… can we,” Was it hot in here? Eddie tugged at his shirt collar. “Can we maybe see each other again, without the masks sometime?”

“Maybe in a restaurant?” Venom piped up.

“Dude! Can you shut up?”

I’m helping you, Eddie!

You smiled wide, accidentally tearing open a few of the cuts that had begun to clot. “Ow. Oh, fuck.” You and Eddie reached for a nearby roll of gauze at the same time and your fingers brushed together. “Sorry.” The two of you whispered. Eddie took the gauze and pressed it against your broken skin, holding it there. You looked up at him, but he was staring intently at your injuries. “Yeah. That’d be fun.”

This drew his attention back to you. “Really? So… you don’t have 3 adorable kids and a dog in a suburb somewhere?”

“No,” You smiled. “I’m more of a cat person.”

“Ah.” He smiled back. “Me too.”

[antisocialxconstruct]

This might be egotistical of me but if anyone wants to give the staff feedback but isn't sure what to write that's more productive than just "it looks like twitter and we all hate it," here's what I wrote. Feel free to riff on my points o/

The new dashboard layout is feels counter-intuitive to your established users and has some serious UX issues. There's no reason for a blogging platform to go out of its way to look like fast-paced social media, so the twitter-reminiscent layout just feels cramped and overly busy. The new left-hand menu is especially frustrating, not only does it contribute the most to the visual clutter, it doesn't feel streamlined to give access to the things people are likely to look for most often--most notably, opening the "activity" panel now covers up the dashboard instead of being offset to the right, and navigating to my own sideblogs now requires clicking and scrolling past information that I don't need to regularly access from the dashboard. If you're not going to reinstate the original layout, or allow users to toggle between them, then at the very least it would be nice to be able to collapse the left-hand menu to only icons, and to have "Blogs" separated out into its own dropdown instead of being hidden inside the "Account" menu. I also think the right-hand column could simply be used more efficiently by partitioning some of the menu content out, since once you scroll past the radar it's just dead space. Ultimately, I think it would be valuable to remember that you have an established userbase who specifically chose tumblr because it's NOT twitter, instagram, facebook, etc. You're never going to be able to "tweak" tumblr enough to be a 1:1 competitor to those sites, and presumably that isn't your goal in the first place, so trying to mimic them on a purely aesthetic level isn't going to draw in the people who are already comfortable on those sites, but it will alienate the people who were trying to avoid them. If my favorite burger place starts trying to compete with the sushi place across the street by putting raw fish on all their burgers, I'm going to stop going there for burgers OR sushi, and I'm not going to recommend it to anyone else either.

[introvertllux]

Chrono Heart (Future Trunks X Black!OC)

*I DO NOT OWN/CLAIM TO OWN ANYTHING IN RELATION TO DBZ. I ONLY CLAIM THE ORIGINAL STORY IDEA AND BLACK!OC IN THIS STORY!*

Chapter 1: The Relic and the Reawakening

The remnants of Dr. Gero’s lab were a graveyard of twisted metal and shattered dreams, a monument to the hubris of a man who played god with circuits and steel. Hidden beneath this forsaken ruin, a capsule hissed open, and from its depths, a figure emerged—Axa. With skin like polished ebony, eyes that shimmered with the golden light of a thousand captured stars, and hair that cascaded down in an untamed torrent, she was a sight to behold—beauty crafted by ambition, innocence shaped by design.

:readmore:

She stood, hesitantly, in the dim light of her metallic tomb, a stark contrast to the vividness of her form. Her limbs moved with an elegance that was almost haunting, yet her expression held the innocence of a child looking out upon the world for the first time.

Unbidden, Axa's body propelled her through the labyrinth of the city, every calculation in her head leading her to an encounter she did not understand. It was as if an invisible hand guided her to a serene park, where the familiar silhouette of Android 18 stood, lost in the simplicity of feeding ducks at the pond—a moment of peace in a life so often marked by conflict.

Axa’s presence cast a shadow over the tranquility, and 18 turned, her eyes widening in shock and recognition. "Axa? Is it really you?" she gasped, the breadcrumbs slipping from her fingers.

Their reunion was explosive—a symphony of fists and flashes of shared history. As they sparred, 18, amidst parries and takedowns, called out to the essence of the girl she once knew.

"Remember when we sparred with 16 in the orchard, the cherry blossoms falling around us like snow?" she grunted, dodging a swift punch. "Or the time we snuck into the city, 17 dared us to ride the rollercoaster and you laughed until you cried?"

Each word struck Axa deeper than any physical blow could, unlocking the sealed doors of her memory. "And that night, the four of us lay in the grass, making shapes out of stars, dreaming of freedom," 18 continued, her voice laced with nostalgia, even as she blocked a kick. "But then you were gone. Gero said you were defective, but you were just... you were just Axa. You were just a little girl, and I... we, I should have done something."

Tears spilled from Axa's eyes, liquid diamonds trailing down her face, an alien sensation that stopped her cold. Her hands came up to her face, fingers trembling as she touched the moisture with wonder. "What... what is this?" she whispered, her voice breaking.

"It's crying, Axa," 18 replied with a bittersweet chuckle, the fight draining from her. "It happens when you're sad... or happy... or even when you laugh so hard, you can't stop. It means you're alive."

Axa's golden gaze, now dulled by confusion and sorrow, met 18's. "I don't... I don't understand," she said, a lost child wrapped in the shell of a machine.

"I know," 18 said, stepping forward to wrap an arm around her. "I forgot to search for you when I found my own life. But now I’m here, and I'll help you. Let me show you the life I've built. You’ll fit right in. Krillin, my husband, Marron, our daughter—they'll love you."

The promise of a family warmed something inside Axa, a spark of belonging that she didn't know she needed.

_____________________________________________________________

The scene shifted to the familial home, where the spark was met with a torrent of fear and misunderstanding.

The home that once held warmth and laughter was now a battlefield of words and emotions. The cozy living room, with its family photos and children's drawings, became the arena. Krillin's face was flushed with a mix of protective fear and incandescent rage. "18, how in the world could you think this was okay? Bringing her into our home without even a word to me?" His voice shook the very foundations of their sanctuary, a volume reserved for life-and-death battles, not familial disputes.

"You're not getting it, Krillin!" 18 shot back, her own voice a force to be reckoned with. "You think I can't see danger? I know danger. I've been danger. But she—" 18 jabbed a finger towards Axa, "—is just lost. We owe her this!"

Marron, with the blissful ignorance of childhood, had wandered over to Axa, offering a small stuffed dinosaur with a smile. "Do you wanna play with Mr. Dino?" she had asked, her voice a sing-song note in the dissonant symphony of the adults' conflict.

Krillin's eyes darted from Marron to Axa, and with a speed that betrayed his martial prowess, he scooped Marron into his arms. "Marron, sweetie, why don't you go play in your room, okay?" His words were gentle with his daughter, but when his gaze swung back to Axa, they were steel blades. "Stay away from her," he snapped at Axa. "We don't know you, what you're capable of—what if you're programmed to…to…"

His words trailed off, but the accusation hung heavily in the air, an invisible smog choking the room. Axa, who stood like a statue wrought from onyx, felt each word strike her. Her hands, which moments ago had explored the texture of the child's toy, now hung limply at her sides. The shine in her golden eyes dulled, a gloss of pain over the brightness.

"Krillin," 18's voice cracked like a whip, her anger transforming into something fierce and protective. "Listen to yourself! She’s not a threat! How can you judge her like this?"

The silence that followed was suffocating. Axa's soft, disbelieving sobs were the only sound, a heartbreaking melody that seemed to wrap around the room. She blinked rapidly, her human-like innocence clashing with her android perfection as she attempted to process the whirlwind of rejection and anger.

"I… I don't want to be a problem," Axa stammered out, her voice a mere whisper but slicing through the tension. "I didn't mean to cause trouble. I'm sorry."

Krillin, his face softening for a moment at Axa's words, struggled with the turmoil inside him. His duty to protect his family warring with the empathy he had learned from his wife. "18, I…," he started, but the words tangled, a mess of emotion and duty.

"No," 18 interrupted, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of frustration. "No, Krillin. She's not just some android. She's Axa. Remember that. She's not the past; she’s someone who needs us now."

In the quiet that followed, the trio stood, the balance of their world shifted, as they each considered the weight of what it meant to be family, to be human, or something akin to it. Axa, still caught in the eye of the storm, dared to hope for a harbor in this tempest—a place where she could anchor her heart.

The turmoil in the room reached a crescendo, a tidal wave of emotion that crashed over Axa with overwhelming force. As Krillin and Android 18's argument continued, Axa's mind began to fracture under the strain. She clutched at her temples, her golden eyes flickering erratically as memories—long suppressed—surged to the surface.

She was small again, diminutive and human, watching through the bars of a crib as giants in white coats and stern faces argued loudly above her. The cacophony of their voices was terrifying, a discordant symphony that crescendoed into an unbearable din. Words like "potential" and "failure" were thrown back and forth, volleying over her head like some high-stakes game she could not comprehend.

Her breath hitched, a robotic mimicry of a panic attack, and her body began to seize up. Her limbs locked in place, and the glow in her eyes sputtered like a dying star. "System… overload…" she managed to gasp out before collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut, her form going limp and unresponsive on the floor.

"18, we need to do something!" Krillin's voice was now tinged with fear for Axa, the protective instinct he felt for all living beings—especially those under his roof—kicking in.

18 knelt beside Axa, her fingers hovering over the android's inert body. Her heart, though not flesh and blood, ached with a mix of fear and protectiveness. "Dammit," she cursed softly, her usual composure fraying at the edges.

Krillin ran a hand through his hair, his eyes darting from his wife to the still figure on the floor. "Maybe… we should take her to see Bulma. She's dealt with… this kind of thing before."

Android 18's eyes narrowed at the suggestion. "Bulma has a good heart, but she's got that scientist's curiosity. She'll want to dissect every part of Axa's programming," she said, her voice a growl of resistance. "And Vegeta…" she trailed off, a scowl creasing her features at the thought of the Saiyan prince's unpredictable nature.

Krillin nodded slowly, understanding his wife's concerns. "We don't have to tell everyone, just Bulma. She'll know what to do," he insisted, his tone imploring. "Vegeta won't lay a finger on her—I'll deal with him if I have to."

The two locked eyes, a silent conversation passing between them. It was a gamble, but Axa needed help that they couldn't give. With a heavy heart, 18 agreed. "Fine. But we're not leaving her side. Not for a second."

Carefully, they gathered Axa's motionless form, her weight a testament to the gravity of their situation. Together, they stepped into the cool evening air, the weight of Axa's fate a heavy shroud upon their shoulders as they made their way to Capsule Corporation, and into the uncertain future that awaited them.

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More on Axa (Pronounced: Axe-e-ah or Ahh-x-ah)

*Apologies for inconsistent art styles. I utilized Art breeder. Unfortunately I don't see many resources to help create black!Ocs in consistent styles and diverse poses out there. If you know of any please let me know! As you continue reading the story imagine her in the DBZ art style. Thank you!*

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Taglist!

@thejadetrios @shytothemaxx @variousfandom @konekomews @physicallyherementallysomewhere @ikittybakugou345 @jasxnoamii @enderempresss16 @elliethewitch @carzychameleon @feitanii @hollownight @dragonloverdrawer @moonlight445sblog @yelan-butterpeatea @ringsofpersonti @weeb-boy261 @jkr820 @somehowexist @scrumptiouss007 @emajohn40 @justicetheghost @thirstyhoebutbetteryehsjsg @rasaberrygray @etherialblackrose @random-insomnia15 @deviousmunchkin @galaxys-stuff @bluehibiscusgarden @kunoichis-world @x-bakudeku-x @spectoralstrudel @i-wanna-fuck-monsters @interobanginyourmom @twdhtgawm @kkeidawrites

[celemee]

"Don't come any closer."

Anyone. Please.

You'll regret asking for this. 😅

My male Durge Raven x Enver Gortash. Deathfic. [ao3]

-----

Silence reigns deep underground, coalescing where Raven kneels. Mud seeping through his leathers, so cold. So wet. 

Wet like his cheeks. The inexplicable hiccups wracking his body as he… sobs?

Has he ever cried before? 

Fingers trace the cool cheek of the only person who could have told him. The last to know him, before… all this. 

Enver lies at his feet, face blackened by the Nether Brain's bolt. Silent. Unmoving. His eyes never again lighting up with recognition — with unmistakable love.

"Who are you?" Raven whispers, finger drawing the shape of his lips. "Who were we?" 

The answer swells in his chest till he feels the limits of his bones, like on the day of their reunion, but it doesn't satisfy. 

What good is his love now? What use is it, when all he wants lies dead at his feet? When even Withers can't undo what's been done to his Enver? 

Such a petty, monochrome death. Wholly unsuited a soul like his. 

A tear falls from his face, dissolving onto Enver's. Raven straddles him, leans in close till they're chest to chest, cheek to cheek. The cold flesh so… wrong.

It was never meant to be this way. He doesn't know where the knowledge bubbles up from, but it takes hold. Firm, as his grip on Enver's arms. Even in his darkest days he couldn't have wanted this. 

A kiss to his lover's ear. Something tells him that's right and good. The dark hair so soft against his face — he pulls in a breath, reminded of the home he can't picture. The scent like a balm to his aching heart — till he recalls the circumstances. 

Raven draws back, sobbing freely once more, studying the dear face through the blur of tears. How did they meet? How did they become? 

Enver told him, spoke through nights and explained in detail, but it's not enough. If only he could reach inside of himself and unlock the memories. Understand why he's crouched here, holding onto a corpse for dear life. Wanting nothing more than to join him. 

What purpose is left for him? 

He leans in once more, closing his eyes as arms wrap around Enver's head. Cheek to forehead as he cradles him in a vain attempt at warming him. Lips kissing a plea into Enver's hair for any deity to hear; unite them again. 

"Raven," a familiar voice stirs him. 

Halsin. 

A heartbreak of his own in his eyes when Raven growls; "Don't come any closer."

The elf pauses several paces away, looking on in silence. 

Raven swallows hard, breathes Enver in — holds him so hard it would hurt if… if he lived. A pang of regret runs through him at the thought; he loosens his grip. 

"I'm so sorry, my love," he whispers into the hair that's turning matted from snot and tears. Ruined by him. Dead. Because of him. "I didn't mean to hurt you. You know I never would, not on purpose."

Halsin kneels in his peripheral vision, still quiet. 

Raven nestles into the crook of Enver's neck, ruining yet another part of him with the grief that's both alien and viscerally his own. He doesn't know how long he prays — but no-one listens. Silence from Bane. Cold shoulder from Bhaal. Echoing emptiness from Myrkul, and less still from every other name he can recall. 

"Raven," Halsin says, cautiously. "Let me help you."

It's strange, hearing him so uncertain. But before Raven can formulate a response, he continues; "He doesn't belong here in the sewers."

Raven swallows, lifting his head from his comfortable hiding place — the crook that feels made for him. Can't see Halsin's eyes from the unfocused mess of his own, but he's right. He'd forgotten. They're deep underground — surrounded by filth and indignity. Wholly unfitting the would-be king in his arms, his dearest co-ruler. 

Unfitting for Halsin, too. Sweet, kind, honey-eyed Halsin, quiet and patient at the scene of Raven's tragedy. 

Every extremity trembles as he lifts to his feet, hands reluctant to let go. An awful, deep sob wracks through him before he can breathe again — from here, the signs of life are so plainly absent. 

A warm hand rests on his shoulder — a reminder he himself still lives. Bears the burden of responsibility, this grim duty to his other half. 

He watches as the strong arms lift Enver by his armpits. Draws in a breath when his lover's head lolls forward, the pride and brilliance dimmed to mechanical responses to gravity. 

Halsin rights it, the gesture so small and yet so meaningful. Raven's arms lock around Enver's thighs, determined to see this through. Eyes fixed on his fallen purpose. 

There's no plan. No sight of a future, no hope for a past uncovered. No light at the end of the tunnel. Every breath in his chest stolen and wrong. 

This… won't suffice. This can't be the end — they'd only just begun again. There must be a way. 

He has to find it. 

[sgiandubh]

Far away and long ago

One thing leading to another, I tried to watch A Princess for Christmas yesterday, prompted by my Peleș/Pelișor Anon answer and I have to say I am grinning as I write this post: it is, after all, a Hallmark movie, isn't it?

Maybe if I were drunk and/or in good company, it would have been easier. I was neither, so it was unwatchable. Even with the bits of personal nostalgia, knowing very well all the sets they used: from the two castles in Sinaia, to the Știrbei (princely) House private chapel in Buftea, to the Bragadiru Palace in Bucharest they obviously used for that ball. I finished skimming on fast forward for S and howled at this bit of Imdb trivia, I believe with all my heart to be wishful thinking:

Not only I do not believe ever seeing/hearing such a thing in all the interviews I have read/watched (of which they are a shameless handful), but it would be completely out of character for 'No Ego' 2014 S to declare such a preposterous thing (correct me if I am wrong, for I truly believe I am not).

Anyways. When it looks low budget, it is a low budget (with Eastern European logistics) D-series thing, despite all their efforts. Plot is downright stupid and the painful cheesiness permeating the slightest line uttered makes it unredeemable. Nuh-oh: not even to kill time, not even on a flight from Almaty to Saint Petersburg. No way.

Low budget is particularly apparent when it comes to costumes. This one, for example...

Her dress is ok-ish (heavily insisting on the -ish, here). But his uniform is an operetta reinterpretation of the Romanian Army's dorobanț (infantry) State Protocol uniform. An exact copy of the 1877 Independence War officer outfit (itself a Second Empire French uniform copycat, but that's just the historian in me nitpicking, of course):

The above is a very recent pic (2023 Remembrance Day festivities at a British War Cemetery near Bucharest). I know that place well, spent all my childhood 1 mile away, my grandparents owned a house in that village. It is a small, forlorn plot of infinite melancholy and a striking sight, with its carefully trimmed grass, among what used to be cornfields, circa 1984. 'This is British soil', my grandfather once told me and that made it both absurd and enticing: an alien enclave of sorts, a city of the dead. He was correct, by the way, and that gave our Remembrance Day expeditions a sort of strange, furtive charm. We always brought flowers and he, a former officer and POW, would always salute, bareheaded under heavy rain. But, I digress.

Both that movie and my recollections were far away and long ago. Mercifully so for S, at least. The difference in demeanor, profile and presence is undeniable, no matter what the Disgruntled Tumblrettes would tell you: some pushed the cheapness up to the gratuitous folly of 'he was a much better actor then'. Well, he wasn't: no chemistry with a female co-star who would clearly be more eager to have a dental surgery intervention. And no presence every time a very tired Roger Moore is around, which makes for roughly three-quarters of his part. But unlike many striving wannabes, he managed to pull out of the Prince Ashton (🙄) typecast and give us a very credible JAMMF, when starts aligned and with a surreal bit of luck.

If he could manage to pull out of the JAMMF typecast, I see great things. Until then, I will stand by my words: this is a guy with tremendous, but completely overlooked/untapped potential, who has been repeatedly miscast. And this is why what would immediately happen after OL is of critical importance. Brace yourselves.

On another, completely unrelated note: should I wait for that US copycat, disingenuous McTavish booze circus tour to end, in order to draw a line and my thoughts on his brand? I think I should, but always happy to oblige to public demand :)

[sochawrites]

Here I am again, with another request! So Yautja x gn! S/O, where the reader fights like this guy in this video. Oneshot or Headcanons you choose.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tkJXiRmRSCo

Synopsis: it has been a while since you moved to the Yautja’s spaceship with your new alien boyfriend, all of the Yautjas have been mean towards both of you, since your boyfriend is warrior who fell in love with a mere and powerless human. But there is one Yautja that made you finally snap! You challenge him into a knife fight! Your boyfriend tried to intervene, but little did he know that you are great in combat! With your interesting movements and fight style.

You can choose if it’s going to be a draw or the reader wins.

Feel free to ignore for being too confusing.

Thank you!

I'm sorry it took so long! qwq I have to get back into the mind space I had and it's not as easy as I thought...

Hope you'll be satisfied with what my head chewed up!

The Rasputin style (HCs)

Yautja x GN! reader

For those curious, here's the vid

You were supposed to stay on the ship

But 'supposed' never cut it with you, not when there was an infinite quantity of vast worlds you could explore

So there you were, currently on Yautja Prime, once again, trailing close behind your mate 

After you had to promise and swear on your life to not provoke other yautjas, and to keep a low profile

You were on thin ice ever since you met another one of his species, and you didn't even get to make a proper impression! 

They were quick to judge you based on the fact that you were human, a species not even worth the time and effort to hunt most of the time

Sure, there were some exceptions, but they had a lot more than just another yautjas word to back up their skill 

Although, you were content with the rules 

You were the intruder here, after all, you and your mate breaking the long-set rules his race lived by for centuries, you'd probably get the same looks if you ever went back to Earth

If only looks were the only thing you received

You were with your boyfriend long enough to learn their body language, to know that they were laughing at you

And at your mate as well, presumably

He noticed it too, but he didn't react, just to keep his face, a sense of dignity

So you let it slip as well

Until their remarks got verbal

You were prepared for a lot and ready to let plenty of things slide, you didn't want to cause any trouble for your boyfriend, but you had to draw the line somewhere

So you turned around and ran your mouth, more or less calling out one of the loudest ones for a fight

You were kind of glad you didn't get to see the flashes of emotional turmoil on your partner's face

The mix of fear, confusion, anger, disappointment...

Yeah, you didn't need to see that, you had a lecture coming your way either way

You spilt your mind, hoping they had their translator on, not realizing a crowd started to form

And two sharp razors were glistening in the sun soon after

Good thing you noticed those

You swiftly moved out of the way and circled the attacker

Well, danced around them really

They were slow to turn around, giving you enough time to pull out your own weapon

The confusion was quite evident on their face

They growled and charged at you 

And you twirled around, again, leaving a little cut on your opponent's side behind as a warning

A warning they didn't head

You hold back, for the most part, they had a physical advantage after all, but you managed to avoid getting hit, along with slashing them here and there when you got an opening

You twirled, and jumped in an expressionistic manner, working up your opponent, exhausting them and slowing them down

You might have been lucky with them being young blood, more experienced fighters would not let your movements deceive them so easily

You caught a few looks at your mate during the fight, he looked quite disappointed, which was understandable, you broke a promise after all

But the fight had to come to an end at some point, and ending it without a winner wasn't an option, you were not going to try and break the honour codex, it was you who challenged them after all

So you waited and waited until your opponent's movements started to get sloppy

These fights were meant to be a life-and-death situation

They finally fell to their knees, and two options open for you

Slow and painful

Or fast and painless

They were not very nice to you, sure, but that wasn't enough to let them bleed out

So you chose fast and painless

You twirled for the last time, getting enough force in your movement to lent the final blow, and slice the other's head right off with your blade

Looking around at the crowd, they all looked baffled, bamboozled

Humans were a weird race

You tiptoed back to your partner, an innocent smile on your lips, and embraced his arm

"So, where were we going?"

He ruffled at your hair, patting it at the process with his free hand, clicking slowly with his tusks

He might not be angry, he certainly wasn't happy with you, but he was certainly proud you were able to stand your ground against someone who wasn't him

[entomolog-t]

Bite Me - Chapter 4

June asks some tough questions, meanwhile Aedes goes through quite the emotional rollercoaster.

Please note for this chapter all of the content warnings are super mild, so unless you really struggle with any of the topics its a very safe read.

Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien @bittykimmy13

- - - -

Previous Chapter: Chapter 3

Next Chapter: Chapter 5

Word count: 3010

CW: Mentions of blood, Adult language, Dehumanization, Fearplay

“Well Aedes,” June tries to keep her voice even, but she can feel herself growing frustrated at his dodging of her questions, “What were you doing in my bed?” 

He bristles- for a brief moment his entire body goes rigid. A look of sheer panic crosses his face, and she watches as he clenches and unclenches his fists, fidgeting anxiously. To her dismay, June notices he’s shaking. With his back still firmly pressed against the wall, he slides down to a seated position, burying his head in his hands. June considers asking a second time, but before she can, Aedes speaks, 

"I... I was…" he racks his brain, desperate for something, anything to say. He stares at his blood smeared hands, refusing to look up at her. "...feeding."

What?

The sense of unease that she had initially felt when encountering him returned all at once. 

The snarling.

The smear of blood on his lips- Her blood. 

Her hand slowly and shakily reaches up towards her neck. He… he bit her? She feels the colour drain from her face… feeding… June feels nauseous. Had he- 

“On me?” She says, her voice feeling hollow. He flinches at her words, ears drawing back. He says nothing. Remaining seated with his head in his hands. She sees his body hitch. His first words echo in June’s mind. 

Please don't hurt me

Was this why he’d been so afraid? 

“Like… b-blood… to drink?”  June stammers. For a moment, he continues his silence, the only sound coming from his heavy breathing. 

"...Yes." His voice, worn down by fear, comes forth in a raspy whisper.  "I- I need blood." He avoids her gaze. June feels her mind buck against the absurdity of the word that slips into her mind, yet she says it aloud regardless, 

“Like... a vampire?”

His head slowly raises to look at her, and for a moment he only stares, not understanding the word at first. As some kind of realization slowly sets in, a tiny bit of surprise flashes across his face as he processes the word. Slowly, he nods again. 

"Yes. A vampire. That's... what I am."  The word seems to hang heavy in the air between them, suspended in time. Without warning, the woman breaks the silence- erupting with… laughter?? 

Why was she laughing? What about this was funny to her? 

He scowls. 

June can't help but laugh at the sight of his disdain. His serious expression contrasting the absurdity of this whole situation.

This… this is crazy. 

"W-What? What's so..." Aedes sputters, his sentence trailing off as June's laughing only increases. Between gasping breaths, June attempts to stifle her chuckles.

 "Of all the things you could have told me…" June trails off, unable to contain her giggling, “A vampire??"

Aedes stares at her dumbfounded. His silence seems to sober her from her amusement, finally managing to contain her laughter.

"You- you're really serious?"  

He meets her stare with his own, brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and what June could only assume was offense. She bit her lip. He certainly looked serious. Even though she’s been the one to say it, part of her had expected him to scoff- to deny it- to offer some sort of explanation… 

"I'm sorry. I just- I didn't think vampires were so…um"  she laughs again, however this time nervously, "small…"

Aedes feels as scowl as it carves its way across his face. It was humiliating. The very thing that was the cause for so much fear to him was just… funny to her. His means of survival… his size… Resentment seemed to brew under his skin. The thought of being so small yet being tied to a being so much like him yet so much more just to survive was a cruel twist of nature. He grit his teeth. 

Seeming to sense his offense, the colossal woman fruitlessly tries to wipe the grin from her face. He sighed. This felt almost degrading… Humiliating as it was, teasing at his expense was a far better alternative than being seen as some sort of leeching pest. Swallowing his pride, he wills himself to join in the levity.

“So what?" He asks, trying to keep his voice light, "Are you laughing at my height or my…. profession?” 

"Both or... Neither? I didn't expect to find a little man today, and I certainly didn't expect him to be a vampire!" She chuckles, shaking her head. Her words have a strange effect on him. Being called a little man feels patronizing. He knows he's small. So does she. There was no need to point it out. But… she'd called him a man- sure, a little man… but still, a man… 

In the midst of his non response, she leans closer. He feels himself tense, but doesn't move. 

"I mean… this is ... pretty fucking wild."

He eyes her carefully as she leans closer, steeling himself at her approach. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, though he can guess.

She's curious he tells himself, almost for his own reassurance. Her gaze feels heavy. Despite her keeping her hands to herself, he feels the weight of her gaze as if he's firmly in her grasp. Her enormity was staggering. Despite what, in theory, was quite the distance between them, her closeness felt invasive- far too intimate at her size. As she leans in, he once again sees his own reflection in her eyes…

He looks… so very small.

Before he can voice his grievances at her closeness, she seems to catch herself; suddenly pulling back, face flushed a deep red. He blinks in disbelief. Had he… had he made her blush?

"I - " for a moment her eyes no longer take him in as a whole and seem to focus directly on his gaze, before quickly looking away, "Sorry."

He feels his breath rush out, tension melting away with a genuine chuckle. There was something at play here, something so familiar yet so foreign in this bizarre setting. The flush on her cheeks, her fleeting gaze…

Fuck it.

“Do you want to take another look?”  The ease in his voice surprises him. 

Her eyes are back on him in a flash; eager and excited. She nods, and her cheeks deepen even more red. 

"Can I -uh.. can I touch you?"

Her question catches him off guard and he hesitates before answering. His instinct is to immediately deny her request, but… He was not expecting the human to ask in the first place. She clearly didn't have to ask- if she wanted to, she could have done so. She wanted his permission. Aedes finds himself wanting to reward this behavior with the goal of reinforcing it. It's simply training a desirable behavior. Nothing more. After a moment, he nods.

“Fine. You may touch me.” 

He watches as her eyes widen slightly, but says nothing. As she reaches he finds himself taken aback by the paradoxical sight of her hands shaking…

Was she that excited? 

Or was she that nervous?

He most certainly was. His heart pounded against his ribs at her approach, begging for him to run. With no small effort, he resisted the urge, rationalizing that a pest, not a man, would run from an incoming hand.

More gently than he would have thought it possible, she took his wrist between her thumb and forefinger, eyes fixated on his hands. He avoided looking at her face. Not only her touch, but her scrutiny made his skin crawl. Instead he found himself staring at her fingers. Her nails almost resembled his own clawed fingers, and he found their glossy pink colour surprisingly pretty, like dew on rose petals. He watched in awe at the sheer difference in size as she placed the pad of her index finger under his palm. She grazed her thumb over the top of his hand, prompting a shiver to run down his spine. He swallowed. His feeding had been cut short, and the remnants of his hunger left her smelling so dangerously good to him. A sweet and creamy scent… almost comforting. 

To his great surprise, he finds his muscles relaxing. 

Well, this was unexpected.

He clears his throat.

"Are you satisfied?"

She smiles, and to his horror, his heart flutters.

"Not quite yet…" she whispers, a playful lilt in the hushed rasp of her voice; teasing, though not like before. This was warmer. Her words seem to linger in the air as her finger tip traces a delicate path up the length of his arm, her touch gentle and deliberate. He… he hadn’t anticipated actually enjoying her touch, or the way it seemed to be awakening sensations he had long forgotten. Never in his adult life has he been touched this tenderly. Her soft caress ignites something within him, as if a current surged beneath the traces of her fingertips. It felt… almost… good.

He casts his gaze upwards, suppressing a flinch at the sheer closeness of her colossal form.  

“And what exactly are you feeling for?” He asks, his smirk down right audible in his tone. 

He watches in awe as her face flushes again. Was - was this actually happening? Despite his fear, those reactions fed into a growing curiosity toward this woman. His mind bucked against the thought. This… is dangerous isn't it? Stupid even…And yet…

He liked it. A lot. 

She cleared her throat, a bashful smile crossing her lips. 

"You're uh-" she gives an awkward chuckle, "pretty sturdy."

There's a momentary pause as his brain registers her words.

He laughs. The sound comes forth full and hearty, surprisingly genuine to his ears.

"What?" He scoffs, "Are you testing my structural integrity?"

Above him, yet oh so close, she stares down at him, face pink as can be. His breath hitches. The sight of teeth softly pressing into the plush flesh of her lip stirs something in his chest, and he feels heat rush to his ears.  

His attention is pulled away from her face as she moves her hand. Her index finger lazily tracing up his arm and onto his chest. He swallows. 

Could she feel his heart race?

Her finger came to rest at the center of his chest. At the pause in movement, he once again cast his gaze upwards to her and was met by a coy smile. 

Without warning, she pushed.

He couldn't help but grunt at the unexpected increase in force. Her touch, moments ago soft and tender, held a newfound firmness as she pressed her finger tip into him. He stood, unmoving, unsure of what was happening. He knew the uncertainty should have been terrifying, and maybe in a way, it was, yet there was an undeniable thrill in not knowing. There was a playfulness to her touch, a teasing curiosity he couldn’t quite tell if it was innocent in nature. Could she tell what her touch was doing for him? 

"What are you doing?"

Her face feigns an innocent expression.

"Oh? I'm just testing your-what was it?" she pauses, pretending to search for the words,"structural integrity." She nearly purrs the words. Her voice smooth and thick, like honey; sweet and silky - like her blood. If he closes his eyes he can nearly taste her on his-

She pushes him again.

He falls back, face hot. Before he can get up her finger finds that familiar spot in the center of his chest. There's no way she can't feel his heart now. Her touch and the beating of his heart is all he can feel. Her finger tip rises up from his chest, tracing his neck and coming to rest under his chin. At his side, he can feel his hands shake as heat fills his face, with even the tips of his ears burning. The air feels too thin, and she all at once feels far to close, and much too far. There's a strange tension between them as he speaks,

“And… what exactly are you doing now?” He struggles to keep his voice even, desperate to maintain control of his reaction if nothing else. 

She leans in, her face consuming the entirety of his field of vision. 

"I want to see your face."

For a brief moment, he swears his heart stops. The intensity of her gaze feels overwhelming- nerve racking. His mind feels as if it's racing and blank simultaneously; The only constant being the woman… the human woman.

"Well" He rasps, his voice far more forced than he would have anticipated, "do you like what you see?" He raises his head, craning his neck to give her a full view of himself. He feels a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

It's as if his words break an illusion- she tenses, and pulls back. His grin feels much less forced as he watches her reaction, relishing in the power his words seem to garner. Yet a persistent feeling of longing sours the small victory; A longing to be overwhelmed again by her closeness… by her touch. 

She fidgets with her hand as he speaks, and he finds himself imagining her fidgeting with him instead. Wait- he blinks the thoughts away, repulsed by the idea… Enticed by the idea. 

"Well, you're a vampire, right?" He notices, to his dismay, she won't meet his eyes, "but you're so, um, small." Thanks. "... I wanted a closer look at um-  your teeth."

He found himself intrigued by the eb and flow of her emotions; she'd essentially just been fondling him, yet suddenly now she was acting coy? Because of a few choice words? He reveled in how her demeanor shifted with his words, how her eyes darted away from his, how her cheeks dawned near permanent blush. She, a creature of such immensity, hung captive to his charm, his wit- as if his will superseded the physical reality. Without the weight of her hand to stop him, he sits up. 

“I’d be happy to show you my teeth,” getting to his feet he makes a show of brushing himself off, “But first,” he turns his gaze towards her, eyebrows raised and a whisper of a smirk on his lips, “you’ll have to come just a little bit closer.”

He watches with delight as her eyes widen at his words. He was making her nervous. He likes that. Seeing her cheeks flush, he realizes he likes that even more. And when she listens to his request? He finds himself liking that the most. She leans in, closing what little space was between them, but instead of looming over him she lowers herself. Where once she was resting on her elbows, now she lowered herself so her chin rested on her hands, nearly flat on the ground. 

She looked up at him. 

Oh.

Did she have any idea what she was doing to him?

The way her eyes, bright green and innocent, looked up at him through her lashes suggested she definitely knew.

“Can… I see your teeth?” She’s so close he feels her warm breath on his legs as she asks again. He refrains from biting his lip. Instead, he imagines biting hers.

“Closer.” He repeats. There was nothing between them, save air and opportunity, and the scent of the blood still on her neck was quickly taking his breath away. She’d come closer and he’d drop to his knees and show his teeth far more intimately than she’d have anticpated; sinking them into the soft flesh of her lips-

The sound of her voice pulls him from his fantasy,

“Closer, huh?” 

She draws nearer, closing what little gap still remained between them- so close her nose traces up his midsection to his chest. He steps back, and she rises, once again resting on her elbows, albeit this time, directly overtop of him. 

“May I please see your teeth now?”

Looking up at her like this- he can’t deny the obvious intimidation he feels, and it's almost as if he doesn’t want to. Why would he ever deny himself of anything to do with her? The irony isn’t lost on him that what seemed like just moments ago he was so opposed to being seen as something to had- to being possessed, yet now he found himself wishing desperately to be hers. If she wanted to see his teeth, he’d gladly show her. 

“I believe you may.” He says, his tone tauntingly flirtatious. 

He smiles, lips parting to a wide grin. To his own shock, he closes his eyes. Was… was he beginning to trust her? Attraction was one thing. He was a man with needs, and she was a beautiful woman… a very large and imposing woman, but a woman nonetheless- but trust? That was a whole other beast. With his eyes closed, his skin bristles and tingles with each of her breaths washing over him. He feels his heart beating wildly, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He trails his tongue over his teeth and his ears twitch at her gasp.

“You… you really are a vampire…” she whispers, her voice laden with disbelief, “They’re so… sharp...” 

He feels… smug? Confident? He can’t quite place the emotion, but he sure as Hell knows the source. 

“Oh?” he muses, opening his eyes, “Do I scare you?”

She answers with a mischievous grin- a grin that a small part of his brain is screaming to run from. His heart nearly jumps into his throat as she reaches for him, her fingers lacing around his torso. He suppresses a yelp as she lifts him, slowly and carefully, off the ground and towards her face. 

“I think a more appropriate question would be,” she begins, her voice a sultry purr “Do I scare you?”

Yes.

Fear courses through his veins as his mind spits out fragments of thoughts. 

Caught. 

Helpless. 

Vulnerable. 

Intimate. 

He focuses on that last one. The softness of her skin. The wild energy in her gaze. The sweet and heavy scent of her. 

She was terrifying. 

“That depends,” he lies, “Have you planned what you’re going to do to me now that you’ve caught me?”

[magnorious]

Pixar’s Cars is still way better than people give it credit for

Am I writing an essay on a kids movie that fell out of relevance after the last sequel seven years ago? Yes. Is it my favorite background animated movie to put on whenever I’m working? Yes.

It goes without saying that Pixar’s catalog is still topped by movies like Incredibles, Toy Story 2, Up, Inside Out, Finding Nemo, Ratatouille, etc. Cars sat at the bottom of Pixar’s “best of” list until its sequel came out and people realized how bad Pixar movies could actually be.

But you know what? I love Cars. Is the story as deep and moving and profound as some of the others? No. But it was made with love and after what feels like the past 8 years of resounding “meh” coming from Hollywood and some of the most shameless cash grabs pretending they’re not, Cars remains my feel-good movie. It doesn’t have that classic Pixar “cry your eyes out” moment, no dead parents, no chosen ones, decently low stakes. It’s a good time, anytime.

Why I’m writing this now, though, is because of this: I knew already that the King and Chick were based off real racers, and Lightning’s “McQueen” is another homage, but I looked up if Doc was also based on a famous racer during my last rewatch and found this on Wikipedia:

Doc’s car model, the Hudson Hornet, was manufactured from 1951-1953 for its original run. In 1954, its manufacturer merged with another company and the Hornet was heavily remodeled to boost sales, only the popularity of the car never recovered. It stayed in production until ‘57. It was used in racing and that’s where Doc’s paint job in the finale draws inspiration.

But do you remember what his backstory is? 3 back-to-back Piston Cups from ‘51-’53, a crash in ‘54 that saw him rebuilt, and obsolescence upon his return.

People complain that they “didn’t need to be cars” in this movie. They’re not like the toys in Toy Story where the plot and message depends on them not being human. They’re not like the fish in Finding Nemo. They could have just been humans who drive race cars and it raises more questions than it answers.

You are wrong, Sir.

Doc’s backstory is why they had to be cars. They aren’t human because the story depends on them being machines – as Cars 3 explores more deeply. A human endurance runner can train to be the fastest, running against other humans with the same chances at success (ignoring steroids and socioeconomic opportunity). Humans aren’t running foot races against mutants or aliens where, no matter what we do, we will lose by nature of what we are.

Cars do. A car model is beholden to its manufacturing and all the complications that come with it. Cars are objects that, like toys, have obsolescence built into them. There is no “outdated” way to run a foot race.

So yes, Doc has a Tragic Backstory(tm) but it’s not just that he was some great master at the top of his game once that faded from glory like any human who got too old. He’s a car, and no matter how good he was, how many Piston Cups he won, the powers that be that made newer models with better mileage and efficiency and mechanics were always going to dethrone him.

The movie isn’t about him, though, it’s about another rookie. A rookie who lives life in the fast lane and thinks his time in the spotlight is never going to end when Doc can look at him and know exactly how wrong he is. Lightning is a race car too and, regardless of the existence of Cars 3, Lightning will also inevitably become obsolete no matter what he does to fight it.

I doubt the writers were going for this when they wrote it but that they’re machines is also a criticism of how we treat celebrities. Lightning is an entertaining story until the next shiny starlet emerges and, through no fault of his own, he’s kicked to the curb for the “new”. And that new will be cast aside for the next new and so on and so forth and the only winner is the greedy producer making money off their cash cow until they drain it dry.

Yes, the movie is about appreciating life and the things that you do have and “the friends we made along the way” but that they’re machines matters. Had they all been human, the movie would have lost half its message, and half the tragedy. If they were human driving cars, Doc wasn’t written with a disability so he could have, in theory, hopped back behind the wheel of a new car and still won against younger drivers. He’s not human, he’s a car, and he isn’t built to go as fast as newer models.

Age affects everyone, but a world made by machines that pits machines against other machines in an endurance test is inherently rigged when the machinery being tested can always improve.

It is unfortunate that both Doc and the King go out in wrecks (even though the poetry is nice) and the story doesn’t explore the existential obsolescence of being a machine designed to only do so well and be improved upon – even Lightning still has to wreck out of his big race in Cars 3 before he starts losing to the newer models.

But maybe having a Cars movie that does explore the existential obsolescence of a machine might have gone over kids’ heads. Or, maybe not? They pulled off some very mature themes in Incredibles with marriage problems and presumed infidelity that kids probably didn’t understand but still knew was not good for the characters.

Not to mention all the other wonderful details in this movie: The car-pun cities on all the license plates, the tire tracks in the sky and car-shaped natural phenomena, all the creative sponsoring brands on the racers.

How the “Life is a Highway” montage hits you over and over again with a straight road that cuts through the winding nature (the snaking river, the mountains sliced open to make room), industry that stops for nothing and scars everything in its path.

If you haven’t watched this movie in a while, do yourself a favor and find time to do so.