#yes they can sometimes carry disease

[i-lived-i-died-and-now-i-sleep]

Baldwin IVs love language

I thought about how one person could possibly win over Baldwins heart and decided to write about the ways I think he enjoys to be cherished as a partner. Hope you enjoy!

I think Baldwin prefers three out of the five love language types: Quality time, words of affirmation and physical touches. Let me explain why:

Quality time: Baldwin definitely enjoys to spend some alone time with his significant other. It doesn't matter if you sit together after a long day and you listen to him talking about the political situation in the kingdom, you two sitting comfortably next to each other while you both read a book, or even meet up to eat dinner together: this is his favorite time of the day. Spending time with you,getting to know you is THE most important thing for Baldwin. For most of his life, he usually spend the evenings either alone or with work but ever since you came into his life, he looks forward to each end of a day when he can finally join you and just cherish your company. I really think due to the leprosy and the limits of physical love that comes with it, Baldwin falls in love with a mind,not looks. So if you talk to him about philosophy,history or some good stories of French knights,he will absolutely fall for you. He really needs this time to make sure that he stays grounded, to remember he found a home in you.

Words of affirmation: While Baldwin definitely stands his ground in political discussions and acts as a remarkable ruler on the outside (and the inside!), I think he also has a very vulnerable side to him. How could he not? Carrying the future of the whole kingdom on his shoulders while suffering from an incurable disease that may or may not be connected to the wrath of God? Baldwin definitely has his moments when he is sure that he can't continue like this. Shallow moments when the anger he feels about this situation does seem to get to his head. He usually spends these moments alone in his private chambers because he doesn't want to show anyone how he much the world hurts sometimes, but after some time, he would definitely let the mask down (haha) in front of you. It may take a while for him to be really comfortable to show anyone how he truly feels but as soon as he accepts you as his safe place, he WILL let his guard down. You accepting this side of him, listening to him rambling, drying his tears feels like heaven on earth to him. He loves to hear words of support from you, how he is a good king and how proud you are of him. But sometimes it's enough for him to just listen to your breath while he lays on your chest and accept his tears.

Physical touch: Listen to me, this man is touch - starved for what seems like forever. Every day of his life consists of people avoiding his presence, avoiding his touch, fearing him. And he isn't even angry about this,how could he? They fear the leprosy and he completely understands this. He himself still can't believe sometimes that God brought this upon him and the way this illness is destroying every part of his body is utterly disturbing. Yes, sometimes he feels like a rotten corpse that somehow still clings to life. He would never EXPECT anyone to willingly touch him, although he silently hopes that he will feel physical love again...somewhen. So when you softly touch his hand while you both play chess, he is sure that he can hear the blood rushing through his veins. His heart is beating faster than ever and although he can't exactly FEEL you, seeing someone closing the physical gap is enough for butterflies to fly in his stomach. The thought alone that you don't FEAR him, that you don't think him ugly or nasty but,on the contrary, long for his touch may be the best feeling for him. So every time you draw him in for a soft hug, kiss his mask or lay your hand in his, he feels like the luckiest man on earth. He will always make sure that he and your shared physical touches aren't a danger to you tho; the last thing he wants for you is to share this unholy illness with him.

[cryobabyy]

Cooper Adams x Fem!Reader

PART(2/5)

He was peculiarly clean— too clean to be at a hardware store past midnight. No dirt on his jeans, or janitor's name patch, or construction vest. He smelt like most men— Irish spring, sandalwood, musk, bergamot, etc. In daylight hours, you wouldn't have thought anything about his tight and fawning smile, the gallon of industrial cleaning solution, and the seven yards of vinyl tarp he slides across the counter at the end of the month. He always smiles when he pays. You smile back despite your intuition advising against it. Something about the interaction feels cold. God, you sound like your fucking father.

OR

You work the graveyard shift at a hardware store with extended hours to put you through pre-med. You meet a DILF who is definitely not The Butcher.

A pack of deer used to linger in your backyard, towards the thicket of rural Pennsylvania forest behind your childhood home. The biggest of them, a buck with massive velvety antlers and black glossy eyes, was the least afraid of you. You left a paper plate of goldfish and a pail of water out for him every afternoon, hoping that one day he’d trust you enough to eat from your palm. After weeks of looking after the wild animal, he began to inch closer and closer to you. You could make out the finer details; white eyelashes, wet snout, twitching ears. The last time you saw him was the day your father caught you with an outstretched palm full of crackers. The sound of your name cracking through the air like a whip was enough to send the startled animal back towards the brush.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous those things are?! What kind of diseases they carry?! Warts, ticks, plague, mad cow disease-”

“But they’re deer, Daddy. Not cows.”

“-And quit fuckin’ feedin’ it! You keep feedin’ it like that and he’ll come back and stick those antlers right through your chest once you stop givin’ him food. You’ll be sorry you ever gave that beast any attention! You understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Come play in the front yard where I can see you.”

It wasn’t long until he began to suspect that somewhere, behind the dense line of trees, the deer was watching the two of you, waiting to spear his mighty antlers through your thin chests.

In the span of a couple of months, the lush green trees had soured to a dull brown, thick summer air had turned thin, and you learned a lot more about Cooper Adams than necessary. His supply runs became more frequent, and with every purchase came a morsel of information about his homely little life that you never asked for. He works graveyard hours at the firehouse Monday through Saturday, his wife hates it, and he’s building her a gardening shed to get on her good side. Above all else, Cooper Adams was fucking bored- so bored that your one-minute interactions stretched into five and eventually ten. 

He played football in college. His favorite band is Smashing Pumpkins. He takes his coffee black. He divulged details freely and without hesitation. The itch in the back of your mind wondered how much of it was true. 

It didn’t matter though. Your skepticism shriveled up every time he came walking in a quarter past 1am; nonchalant, neighborly, and hot. His purchases stay consistent. Tarp, staples, cleaner, light bulbs, and sometimes nails. He sets it down on the counter with a smile. 

“You again?” He cocks his head playfully.

“In the flesh.”

“Anything exciting happening tonight?”

“Nope. You?”

“Depends on how exciting you think paperwork is. I’m only fighting fires five percent of the time. The other ninety-five percent is paperwork and cats stuck in trees.” Cooper puts his big hands flat on the counter and leans forward, his wedding band clinking against the wood. You meet his gaze, the crinkle of his crow’s feet reminding you of his age. 

Your father’s mental instability held you back in more ways than one. You put off school to take care of him in his last years, you didn’t get out much, let alone have time to date. Despite your inexperience, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Cooper Adams– a man with a wife, kids, and a mortgage– was lightly flirting with you. Even worse- you didn’t hate it. It was a relief to be spoken to like a friendly acquaintance and not like the girl who grew up in the hoarder house at the dead end of Bleaker Ave. The girl whose dad sealed up his CO2 detectors and cranked his gas stove because his sickness convinced him it was the only way to prevent the government from reading his mind. 

Cooper didn’t seem to be aware of the rot in you that others could sense. If he was, he didn’t care.

“Yeah, well I’m sure your kids still think you’re a saint. Your wife too.” You assure him. He pauses, holding you prisoner with eye contact. An earnest smile slowly creeps on his face.

“Thank you. That’s a very sweet thing to say.”

Your face felt hot all of a sudden. You take the opportunity to scan his items, but it doesn’t stop him from continuing the conversation.

“Pre-med, huh?” He nods to your textbook amongst the pile of your stuff on the back counter. “Smart girl. Don’t tell me– Pediatrics? Family medicine? Am I close?” 

3 months of acquaintanceship and you never once revealed anything overtly personal to Cooper. Your father ingrained rigid rules for interacting with strangers; No last names, no addresses, no phone numbers, and everyone has bad intentions until proven otherwise. He fishes his wallet out of his back pocket, flipping it open to hand you his card. You catch a glimpse of the picture of his kids, and before you can pay mind to your own paranoia, you’re answering him.

“Psychiatry, actually. I want to be a psychiatrist.”

“Shit. Wow. That’s…That’s awesome. I wouldn’t have guessed-”

You cut him off, the words coming up like vomit.

“My dad, uh, he struggled a lot. I took care of him until the end, so It kinda felt right, Y’know?”

Feeling relieved, nauseous, and stupid, you quickly run his card. The printer loudly spits out the receipt. You try to pin down what possessed you to overshare so willingly, but come to no conclusion. Maybe it was his face, soft eyes, and a masculine jaw. The disarming affectation of a competent father, someone trustworthy and inherently good. Or was he truly all those things? You slide his receipt and card towards him, eyes darting around awkwardly, desperate to avoid direct contact.

“Sorry. That might have been too much too soon.” Suddenly, warmth envelopes your fingers. You look down to see Cooper’s hand over yours, and then up to see a softened expression.

“I went through something similar with my mother. You don’t have to be sorry.” He says quietly, offering a reassuring nod. When he slides his receipt and card out from under your hand, you release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “It takes a certain kind of person to choose to be a solution to a problem they’ve been victimized by. The world needs more people like you.”

A couple of months ago, you were sure Cooper’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. Now, thought you could see something lurking behind them– you weren’t sure what, but it made your pulse thrum uncomfortably against your neck. 

“But sure, I’m the saint for saving cats from trees and building my wife a shed so she doesn’t hate me. That checks out.” He chuckles, shaking his head incredulously. You stand there watching him throw his purchases back into the cart, blindsided by the sincerity of the fleeting moment.

“You stay safe, alright? Don’t talk to too many strangers.” He points to you with a half-serious look, snapping you out of your daze. 

“Same goes for you.”

He stops halfway out the automatic doors to mutter a curse under his breath, rummaging through his windbreaker pocket to retrieve something.

“Almost forgot, I got you a little something- Think Fast!” He tosses it to you, and you reflexively catch it.

You huff out a shocked laugh when you realize it’s a small container of mace.

“Cooper, you can’t be fucking serious.” You look up to see his satisfied smile.

“Afraid I am. Sorry, but it freaks me out that you’re still here by yourself so late when there’s a maniac on the loose out there. It’s the dad in me.” He shrugs.

You don't watch the news often, but the mention of a maniac rings a bell. You've heard whispers of scattered remains around campus and seen a headline or two.

“What are they calling him now?”

“The Butcher.”

You scoff, ignoring the fear pooling in your stomach.

“Oh, lovely. This will totally stop him from butchering me. Thanks.” 

He gives you a wink and a thumbs-up before disappearing into the parking lot. You stare at the small blue container of mace in your palm, realizing there's something written in permanent marker on the side. 

Cooper Adams

215-238-6667

Just in case

AO3

Previous chapter

AN: Hi, hope youre enjoying my unnecessary character study fic. The next chapter will have explicit content and minor violence. Just a forewarning. If you see grammar, spelling, or syntax errors no you didn't. I proofread this with 4am eyes, will proofread again in the morning lol. Enjoy, freaks! <3

[sunflowerim]

some lines from Solitaire that just hit too close to home

“Tori,” says Becky, “you look a little bit like you want to kill yourself.”

I deflate into a chair and nod philosophically. “It’s funny because it’s true.”

//

My name is Victoria Spring. I think you should know that I make up a lot of stuff in my head and then get sad about it. I like to sleep and I like to blog. I am going to die someday.

//

Sometimes I hate people. This is probably very bad for my mental health.

//

personally, thinking or talking too much about “boy issues” makes me want to shoot myself in the face.

//

I am a vacuum. I am void. I am nothing.

//

THE FIRST THING I do when I get home from school is collapse onto my bed and turn on my laptop. This happens every single day. If I’m not at school, you can guarantee that my laptop will be somewhere within a two-meter radius of my heart. My laptop is my soul mate.

//

(charlie to tori): “You like to act as if you care about nothing, and if you carry on like that, then you’re going to drown in the abyss you have imagined for yourself.”

//

I instantly wish I’d just shut up. I always do this thing where I accidentally say self-deprecating stuff that makes other people feel really awkward, especially when it’s true.

//

I really don’t do anything unless I actually want to do it. And most of the time I don’t want to do anything at all

//

One day I’m going to forget how to wake up.

//

Smoking is so pointless. The only reason I can think of for smoking is if you want to die. I don’t know. Maybe they all want to die.

//

When you watch a film, you’re sort of an outsider looking in. With a book—you’re right there. You are inside. You are the main character.

//

You think you’ve met bad people, and then you meet people who are worse.

//

I don’t want people to be worried about me. There’s nothing to worry about. I don’t want people to try and understand why I am the way I am, because I should be the first person to understand that. And I don’t understand yet. I don’t want people to interfere. I don’t want people in my head, picking out this and that, permanently picking up the broken pieces of me.

//

We’re so used to disaster that we accept it. We think we deserve it.

//

Did you have a bad day?”

“Yes. Always.”

//

Nobody is honest; nobody is real. You can’t trust anyone or anything. Emotions are humanity’s fatal disease. And we’re all dying.

//

I haven’t ever known what I wanted out of life. Until now. I sort of want to be dead.

Tori's pov really is something.

[koenigami]

tags : fem!reader, fluff, little angsty because pining wrio scared of being vulnerable a/n: happy birthday to juicy buttocks man 🩶

WRIOTHESLEY didn’t get the chance to experience copious amounts of love throughout his life. And the little that he received, he’s not sure if any of it was ever real. Whether his foster parents’ I love yous were ever uttered with sincerity, he will never know. Even if he could, he probably would not care, because the things that they made him feel were real, even if only temporarily. 

But the things that you are able to ignite inside him- they’re terrifying him. Yes, good ol’ Wriothesley being scared. Not something that you get to see quite often, right? But it’s true. Because everywhere he goes; you’re there. While taking a lazy stroll through the Fortress of Meropide to ensure its order, Wriothesley seems to look for you in every nook and crevice of it. Your smile, your eyes, the sound of your voice. In every room that he steps, he seems to find glimpses of you. It gets worse when he realises that he cannot think straight anymore. Signing documents and reading through reports, simple and almost daily tasks for him, all of a sudden feel like hard manual labour. All due to one single person invading his thoughts and not letting go of him.

It’s a day like any other when you visit him, unloading another pile of paperwork for him on his desk, yet what you don’t expect is the sudden proximity between the both of you when he suddenly stands right in front of you. Your forehead wrinkles slightly in worry, noticing his scowl and ragged breaths. “Wriothesley-” “Get out.” Your eyebrows lift questioningly. Taking a step back, you wonder what might have led to his sudden request and rude demeanour as you’ve been getting along more than well the last few weeks. So well that you thought there might actually be something between you-

Warmth envelopes your wrist once you attempt to take the staircase, vainly trying to fulfil his wish, not even wanting to question it, only for him to pull you back. “Here.” with a gentleness that you haven’t gotten the chance to witness from him before, he guides your hand up to his head, lightly tapping the pads of your fingers against his temple. “Get out of here.” It’s only now that his tired looks become more evident. Wriothesley is desperate. He can’t hire someone to solve this problem for him, there is no one who can deal with this mess inside his head and heart except himself. 

“I would, if that is what you truly wished for.” you sigh, gracing him with that soft smile of yours before letting your hand settle on his cheek. Delicately, you trace the light stubble along his jaw with your thumb and Wriothesley, for the first time in forever, feels weak. “But the issue is that you won’t let me go.” 

And Wriothesley recognises that resisting these feelings, fighting against himself; all of it is futile. Sometimes the remedy can be worse than the disease, so letting you go without confessing his devotion to you would only torment him further. Gingerly, as if assessing whether his next move would scare you off, he leans his forehead against your shoulder and buries his face into the crook of your neck. Like a child seeking warmth and comfort in its mother’s bosom. And you let him. 

Embracing him and placing a hand on the nape of his neck, playing with his messy strands of hair, you ask softly, “Does the prospect of loving me seem that unpleasant to you?”  

That’s not it. And he’s sure you know that too but are merely trying to tease him in order to lighten the situation. It’s the fear of not being good enough, not being able to love you the way you deserve it, not being able to protect you from any possible harm, or even from himself. It’s the fear of causing you pain and sorrow instead of providing you with a happily ever after. 

He gulps audibly before lifting his head to look at you again, despite the lighthearted grin that he flashes you, his face carries a desolate expression. 

“Sweetheart, I’m not a man worth-”

“You truly are a scumbag, Wriothesley. You know that?” As always, you manage to leave him speechless but despite your insult, he leans back into you when you lift one of his hands and place it on your cheek. Your silky and soft skin a contrast in comparison to his rough and scarred self. “I think I should be the one to judge whether you’re worth it or not. Don’t you think so too?”

With a defeated sigh, Wriothesley can only nod before he leans his forehead against yours. Resisting you is hard but opposing you? Impossible.  That's why he lets you see past the cool and cocky walls that he has built up since his adolescence. Like a newborn lamb on shaky legs, ready to fall and get back up again, he allows himself to indulge in this newfound situation of defencelessness.

[imperator-titus]

Favorite Party Banter [Astarion Edition]

[Astarion (Ascended)] [Halsin/Jaheira] [Gale] [Karlach] [Lae'zel] [Minsc] [Minthara] [Shadowheart] [Wyll]

I often miss party banter because of party comp (and sometimes just straight up can't hear??) so here's a collection of my favorite bants while going through dialogue files. I know the wiki has the banter (most? all?) but I added the file names and dev notes.

Either Astarion (Spawn or unspecified) is the main speaker/subject or I think his reaction is good shit.

Not in any particular order.

(Big surprise it's probably the biggest list.)

[PB_Wyll_Astarion_SCL_FishermansHut]

Wyll: To think how vibrant this place must have once been. Children playing, merchants hawking. Real people living real lives.

Astarion: I know, can you imagine the noise? This is much more peaceful.

Wyll: Come, Astarion. I know you're not really as heartless as all that.

Astarion: Of course not, I'm a pussycat really. Just ask anyone who's seen my claws.

[PB_Astarion_Karlach_MountainPass]

Astarion: Gods, how are we not there yet? My feet are killing me.

Karlach: Want me to carry you?

Astarion: Oh, darling, would you? {Devnote: With genuine hope}

Karlach: Sure! If you promise to swap once I get tired.

Astarion: Please, I can barely manage my pack - you’d kill me.

[PB_Jaheira_Astarion_NorthAlleys]

Jaheira: Nevermind the shining squares - I am more comfortable on streets such as this. A peek at the true face behind the mask.

Astarion: Yet another thing we have in common. We’re two peas in a pod.

Jaheira: I said a peek behind the city’s mask, Astarion - not a look up its skirts.

Astarion: Jaheira! What do you think of me? {Devnote: mock shock/scandalised}

[PB_Minthara_Astarion_ROM_Act3]

Minthara: Are you a better man now that you are loved, Astarion? Did they mend your ways?

Astarion: I rather think they did. Can’t imagine anyone wanting to do that for you, though dear.

[PB_Wyll_Astarion_ROM_Act3_001]

Wyll: Astarion, I was wrong about you. Truly wrong about you.

Astarion: Let me guess - you thought I’d suck blood, but actually I just suck? Was that your witty jab? {Devnote: A little tired of Wyll’s bullshit}

Wyll: No, I mean it. There’s little between us we share. But you’ve fallen in love and stood by your lover. That is something this dreamer’s heart can appreciate.

[PB_Laezel_Astarion_ROM_Act2_002]

Lae’zel: The more I learn of this plane, Astarion, the more I believe ‘love’ is its greatest disease.

Astarion: Oh, I don’t know. The screaming fever is pretty bad.

[PB_Astarion_Halsin_ROM_Act3]

Astarion: I hear things got wild between you two. I hope no one was too badly mauled.

Halsin: We’re all in one piece. Perhaps you’ll join us next time.

Astarion: It’s bad enough having one person with fangs trying to keep control of themselves. Two of us could be dangerous.

[PB_Astarion_Minthara_MorphicPool]

Astarion: We’re getting close. I do believe fate is shuffling the cards for the final deal.

Minthara: Let the cards fall. We have a strong hand to play.

Astarion: And speaking personally, I intend to cheat.

[PB_Karlach_Astarion_ROM_Act2_001]

Karlach: Sorry if this is rude, but… can vampires fall in love?

Astarion: What a preposterous question. Vampires can do anything you can do, and a damn sight better.

Karlach: Sunbathe? Swim?

Astarion: All right, there are a few limited exceptions.

Karlach: Good to know love is on the table though.

Astarion: It is. Though if the table is laden with good wine and meat, love is often left to rot with the salad leaves.

[PB_Minsc_Astarion_ROM_Act3_Spawn]

Minsc: No, Boo. Astarion is a friend now - he would never bite you. {Devnote: quietly comforting}

Minsc: Yes, vampire?

Astarion: Yes… I mean - no? I am not interested in biting the rodent is the point.

Astarion: Not least because he lives in your trousers…

[PB_Astarion_Laezel_ROM_Act2]

Astarion: So Lae’zel, things seem to be getting serious with you two. Do you have pet names for each other yet?

Lae’zel: ‘Pet’ anmes? As if we were domesticated animals?

Astarion: Gods, you have so much to learn. Repeat after me: honey muffin, sweetie pie, sugarplum.

Lae’zel: Honey muffin, sweetie pie - Astarion, do you see all your lovers as food? {Devnote: As if they’re in another language}

[PB_Shadowheart_Astarion_ROM_Act1_PickUpArtist]

Shadowheart: I can't quite believe you've been a pick-up artist all these years, Astarion. {Devnote: Poking fun/banter. Referring to Astarion's romance with the player}

Shadowheart: Most of the things you say still sound like you're in a two-copper paperback read by little girls.

Astarion: I sound like a charming rake, you mean? The hero everyone fawns over?

Astarion: Well, if the doublet fits...

[PB_Astarion_Gale_Colony_Generall]

Astarion: It's enough to put you off tentacles for life.

Gale: You had a taste for tentacles?

Astarion: The Elfsong Tavern used to serve excellent calamari. Mind you, that was two hundred years ago...

[PB_Gale_Astarion_ROM_Act1]

Gale: I see you waste no time pursuing your quarry, Astarion. {Devnote: referring to Astarion and player beginning to date, amused by it}

Gale: Tell me, do you always woo your lovers with such patient attention? {Devnote: poking fun because it all happened so quickly}

Astarion: I rather thought I was a little slow this time. Usually, they're begging me to drain them on the first night.

[PB_Astarion_Gale_ROM_Act2]

Astarion: So, how was your night with Gale? Did you have a long, hard debate? {Devnote: teasing the player about spending the night with Gale}

Gale: Ignore him. Astarion envies the depth of our bond because he's of a shallower inclination.

Astarion: Snort.

[PB_Shadowheart_Astarion_Battlefield]

Shadowheart: Imagine what this place was like, on the day of the battle. The ground most have been covered with the dead... {Devnote: somber}

Astarion: A tragedy - just think of all that wasted blood.

Shadowheart: You wouldn't actually feed in the wake of a battle, would you? You're not a vulture. {Devnote: 'eww, really?'}

Astarion: Oh, I don't know. I've fed on things that would disgust most vultures.

[PB_Minthara_Astarion_ROM_Act2]

Minthara: Half the men of Menzoberranzan are pleasure-servants. Weaklings, whose beauty is their only redeeming quality.

Minthara: You would fit right in with them, Astarion. {Devnote: mocking Astarion, trying to get a rise out of him}

Astarion: You think I'm beautiful? Oh, Minthara.

Minthara: Hrmmph. {Devnote: scowling, irritated grunt}

[PB_Shadowheart_Astarion_SharTemple]

Shadowheart: You're uncharacteristically quiet, Astarion. Awed into silence?

Astarion: Awed? By this? Please - size isn't everything. At least when it comes to temples.

Shadowheart: Well what would impress you, then?

Astarion: Oh, I don't know, but a little more colour wouldn't hurt. All the black and purple just makes me think of bruises...

[daytaker]

greetings from clown anon, adored the fic very silly <33

i apologise if i’m filling up your inbox but may i ask for an mc that’s a mortician? that or is just desensitised to death and knows a lot about it, like i imagine whenever the brothers in early season 1 used to do like very specific threats mc would be like “uh actually that’s not how that works” essentially acting like a bit of a smart ass completely glossing over the actual threat

thanksies in advance (´∀｀*)

Clown Anon MCs - [ Clowncore MC | Death-Fixated Science Geek MC | LeVeyan Satanist MC ]

(I'll be real I have no memory of the specific threats and I was too lazy to go look for them but I will follow along the lines of the prompt anyway.)

I'm going to do this one in bullet point form. Hope that's okay.

(CW: a bit gross at times. not quite gore.)

Now I Am Become MC, Destroyer of Worlds: A Death-Fixated Main Character in Obey Me!

Read below the cut.

They're extremely curious about demon anatomy. And not in a kinky way. They want to see how similar the structure and layout of demon organs are to human organs. They want to get full body X-rays when those wings and tails pop up. They want to get it on video when they appear and disappear. Because what the fuck. Yeah, yeah, they get it, magic exists, but still, what the fuck?!

They fully expect Beel to keel over and die one day from overeating. There is no way any single individual can consume the way he does and survive. They're actually hoping that if he does, they'll be able to carry out the post-mortem and see what exactly was going on with that stomach of his. I mean, yes, they'll be very sad he's gone, but at least he'll have died as a martyr to science!

Dead shadow hog? Taxidermied. Dead fire newt? Taxidermied. Dead devil zebra? Brought home, dissected, taxidermied. The brothers don't really like to go to their room because of the constant dizzying stench of formaldehyde that comes from it.

Sometimes they'll just sit and stare at one of the brothers. If asked what they're doing, they'll simply say, "Observing." Reactions to this range from Beel's "Oh, okay," to Levi's "I'M GOING TO MY ROOM AND NEVER LEAVING FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE."

So Solomon's immortal, is he? How immortal, exactly? Is it just that he'll never die from old age? Could he die of a disease? Surely he could die from injuries, right? Has he tested this? Can they test it? Please?

....Please?

Wait, wait, wait. Satan came from where? How? Why? What the hell? Lucifer, take your shirt off, they need to do some investigating. Satan, you too. Lucifer, show them your back. No scars? Not even from ripping your own wings off? Hm. Satan, do you have a bellybutton? ...That's weird, you definitely didn't need an umbilical cord. And you're saying he came out full-sized? Stop telling them it's magic! Magic is just science that people don't understand yet.

Actually, all of you get in here and strip, this has been a long time coming. MC needs to figure out what the hell is happening here.

Why not?

Pleeeease?

Satan, let's talk about one of your murder mysteries! They do this exactly one time, and never again because MC kept interrupting to point out plot holes and inconsistencies. It was so annoying. It kind of ruined the genre for him for a little while.

Leviathan, MC wants to ask you about how you survive underwater. Levi--- Hey, where are you going? Levi?

They write their paper on comparative anatomy of demons, angels, and humans. Diavolo gets a little queasy after the first page and gives them an A. He doesn't want to read the rest, he trusts they did a thorough job.

[kangals]

ok so here's what we found out from kepler's embark results! buckle up, it's a novel:

to start, i did what i've done for the past 2 embark tests i've sent in, in that when activating the kit i said that my dog was a mixed breed of unknown type, and i opted to not upload a photo beforehand. and like the last 2 times, embark correctly deduced that kep was a purebred collie. so while there's some dna tests out there that definitely suck, i can at least confirm that in my own blind trial, embark got it right 3/3 times. they're great. anyway:

also keeping very in line with being a purebred collie, kep's COI came back at 42% - very high for a typical dog, but dead-on average for a collie. he shares 60% DNA with stellina (despite being on paper second cousins, which should be around 1-2% shared. woe to the collie genepool). he's got a bunch of the same relatives that show up for stellina, which is, again, not surprising. dogs from windcrest, overland, and thistlebrae pop up a lot - if you're familiar with US collie lines, you probably know them.

color traits! kep is confirmed as white-factored, which i was almost certain of based on the pattern of his white markings - you can find more info on it here (referred to as "flashy irish" white) but essentially collies that are white-factored carry the gene for "extreme white" or color-headed white. white is an "incomplete dominant" gene, meaning that one copy affects the dog a little, and two copies affects the dog a lot (remember this term!) two copies of the gene makes the dog almost entirely white (an accepted color in the US, but not the UK/europe i believe), whereas one copy of the gene makes the regular "irish white" markings (the classic white neck ruff and white socks) extend a little further than usual - you'll notice that on kep, his white extends over his shoulders and up to his knees. whereas on stellina (who does not carry the white gene), her white is restricted to her neck, front stockings, and back paws. one of kep's brothers is white, so we knew he likely carried the gene too.

he is confirmed as not a secret merle, though he technically could have been a cryptic/phantom merle - didn't think so, but worth a check.

so all of this is very expected - the health testing is where things get interesting!

embark tests for 265 different genetic health conditions, 4 of which are considered "breed-relevant" for collies: collie eye anomaly (CEA), mdr1 drug sensitivity, degenerative myleopathy (DM), and some immune thing with a long name.

immune thing - clear

DM - clear (not particularly common in collies, but it does show up sometimes and it is a nasty disease)

MDR1 - double copies! this is a recessive gene and kep is mutant/mutant, aka he carries both copies which makes him clinically affected. this is common in collies, as about 60-70% of collies have at least one copy. the good news is this just means we have to avoid/take smaller doses of certain medications and he otherwise shouldn't be impacted by it at all. also his breeder already tested him for this so i already was aware.

CEA - single copy! this is also a recessive gene, which means that kep is not affected/normal-eyed, which is actually pretty uncommon! it's estimated that between 70-85% of collies are affected by CEA (yes, the gene literally called collie eye is common in collies. wow.). i also was already aware of this since he was already tested (worth mentioning that if you buy a collie puppy in the US, a screening by an ophthalmologist to check for CEA is required by the breed club).

and then the plot twist:

embark tells me "oh hey, btw, there's two other genes you should know about"

"your dog has one copy of the gene for accumulating copper toxicosis"

fucking what

so yeah, after a lot of reading into this: there's a gene called ATP7B that's almost exclusively found in labradors, goldens, and dobermans which affects a dog's ability to filter out copper. excessive amounts of copper start to build up in the liver, and if it gets to be too much it can cause liver disease, failure, and neurological problems. remember when we talked about white and white-factored dogs, several thousands words ago? ATP7B is also an incomplete dominant gene - one copy affects the dog a little, two copies affects a lot. kep has one copy, which in theory means he is at no risk, mild risk, or moderate risk of developing copper storage disease in his life. not devastating, but not ideal.

the plot thickens!

kep also tested positive for the gene called ATP7A, which as far as i can tell is like the exact opposite of ATP7B (i know, the names suck). see, ATP7B causes copper to accumulate. but ATP7A has been shown to cause a copper deficiency. it's also incompletely dominant, so one copy impacts a little, and two copies (should) impact a lot - and kep has both copies of ATP7A.

so: kep has one of the "too much copper" genes... but he has also two of the "too few copper" genes. and studies seem to suggest that the two genes have a neutralizing effect on each other if they're both present in one dog - basically, they cancel each other out.

there's a handful of studies looking at the effects of these genes on dogs, but they basically exclusively focus on labradors and dobermans - one UC davis study even suggested that these genes might not even have an effect on other breeds. i could find absolutely no literature about these genes in collies, or even in herding breeds in general. embark helpfully added that they don't have enough data on this gene in other breeds to claim if they had any effect. the genes also appear to be sex-linked, and affect females moreso than males. one study on labradors suggested that although many dogs tested were carriers of ATP7B, few dogs were clinically affected, which would say that perhaps its not uncommon for dogs with only one copy to not be impacted.

(i'm also wondering if perhaps this could be the case for kep - given that he has 2 copies of ATP7A, he had to inherit one from each parent. given that these genes aren't regularly tested for in collies, is it possible that some lines carry them and are just clinically unaffected? it may be entirely incidental.)

so essentially, he does have one gene that may be nothing, or may cause mild-moderate issues as an older adult/senior. he also has two copies of that gene's natural neutralizer, and is male, and comes from clinically unaffected dogs. so... i think in retrospect, it's something to note on his chart and keep an eye on, but the odds seem to be very stacked in the favor of him either not being affected, or having only mild affects later down the line. could be a nothingburger, might be a little-somethingburger, unlikely to be a seriousburger.

that being said: i am VERY glad i decided to do this test! obviously i knew what breed he was, and his breeder had already tested him for the most collie-relevant conditions, so this was done on more of a whim, but it turned up this potentially important result that i now know to investigate. you'll hear a lot about how breeders who just do embark, or pawprints, or etc aren't doing complete genetic testing, because so many of the diseases these tests screen for aren't breed-relevant and lots of other conditions aren't testable. which is true. 265 genes and only 4 are considered for collies! but once in a blue moon, one of those random other genes will indeed flag, as is the case here.

so yeah: very interesting results! breed, COI, relatives, color, and most of the health is exactly as expected. but boy that one little health bit really threw me for a loop.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

"Meet my cat, the infamous Sir. Hikotons the first." *holds up black cat i'm cradling in my arms which is half asleep*

Like Fire, Hellfire.

Cats.

It seemed that Night Raven College was teeming with them. Leona, Grim, Lucius... and now the pitch-black creature that you so eagerly presented to him.

Rollo's starry handkerchief already out to shield his grimace from your view. The cat had a distinctive odor about it—not to mention, didn't animals have the potential to carry all manner of disease? Domesticated or wild, it mattered not to him.

"How... charming," Rollo remarked unenthusiastically.

"He's just the cutest, right?" you gushed, either oblivious to his disinterest or actively choosing to pay it no mind. "Sir Hikotons the First sometimes gets into trouble, but I can never stay mad at him for too long."

The feline gave a groggy meow. It was as if he knew he was being spoken about, but didn't care enough to raise a big fuss about it.

"Do you want to pet him?" you offered, shoving the cat closer to Rollo's face. “I fink he wants to make new fwend!!”

"Not particularly, no.” Rollo’s expression crumpled with increasing disdain. “And stop speaking like that, you sound foolish.”

“I think that’s a yes!!” you exclaimed, proceeding to gently drape Sir Hikotons the First into Rollo’s arms. He fell into his grasp s-l-o-w-l-y, like a dollop of furry molasses, darker than the night itself.

Rollo froze, his limbs locking up and his face stiff. “Take it back this instant,” he hissed. “I haven’t the faintest idea how to handle such a creature…”

The cat shifted in his grasp, setting the hairs on the back of Rollo’s neck standing. He visibly recoiled from the movement, fearing the feline would claw or bite him. Highly unsanitary…!

“Ah, ah, ah!” You waggled a finger at him, your tone teasing. “You won’t make any friends like that, mister! Think of this as like a pop quiz—now do your best to be buddies, okay?”

A spike of panic blazed through him.

“I-I most certainly did not agree to this!!”

[inlovewithregencyera]

transcript under cut : )

Thornfield House, July 7th, 1818

North: And are you in any pain my Lord?

Frederick: *coughing* It hurts when I cough. Sometimes when I breathe.

North: Yes..strictly hot milk and broth to quench the thirst and alleviate the pain.

Frederick: *quietly* Bell..?

Isabella: Yes, Frederick? I'm here.

Frederick: where is max?

Isabella: Oh, he's still slightly upset after everything that happened last night. I'm sure he'll come around.

Frederick: *coughing* Yes, well he's a fool if he thinks he'll stop me from attending that party.

Isabella: Frederick, given your condition, I think it best you don’t go. Please listen to Dr. North, you’re not stable.

Frederick: And bare the thought of Aurelia worrying about me and thinking the worst.?! No, I can't do it.

Isabella: *sniffling* Oh, Dr. North! Tell him he cannot go in the state he’s in!

North: Best we keep to my treatments, m'lord. You mustn't strain yourself. It'd be scandalous if you went to that party and fainted publicly...

Isabella: *wiping eyes* See, Frederick. You leave Aurelia for me to worry about.

Frederick: Please spare her any details of all of this.I don't want her knowing until she absolutely has to....

Isabella: Don't worry, I will. Also, don't worry about Max. I'll deal with him.You know he's extremely sensitive, this is a big blow for him...

Frederick: *coughing* Yes, yes, well. I dare say he will manage when things take a turn for the worst, he always does. He's a strong sort of fellow y know-

Isabella: *sniffling* Oh, how can you say that! You're too prideful, you know? You should've told us about this long ago and perhaps we would've had more t-

Frederick: *wheezing* And worry both of you and become the object of your pity? No thank you, I like being independent.

Isabella: *softly* You'd never worry us. We love you very much, and we wouldn't have minded you coming sooner if that meant-

Frederick: Yes. Yes, I know. I'm sorry for not telling you the whole truth, truly at first it was an infection of the pulmon-

Isabella: No need to explain yourself. I understand, you've always liked your freedom.

Frederick: A shame Max cannot see that. I do not wish to be infantilized as l grow weaker. Truly, you must try and not feel so sorry for me. Instead, feel sorry for Aurelia, for she-

Isabella: I do feel sorry for her. You've given her false hope with all of this, I mean you even kissed her Frederick! Then you referred to her as 'Aunt Aurelia' in front of your little niece, and now you wish for Max to break the news to her when time comes..?

Frederick: Please understand that my intentions were not to discompose her. They were to make her feel happiness, and happiness only. I will say, I got too carried away with kissing her, but Bell, you know my heart has yearned for her since leaving. How could I resist?

Isabella: I understand you meant well, but did you think of how she would perceive this? She probably thinks you've come back to marry her with all you've done and said! The poor girl will be more heartbroken than she already is, Frederick. What you did was selfish!

Frederick: *coughing* You’re right, perhaps it was selfish. But I cannot change the past, I'm sure she'll understand I meant well.

Isabella: And if she doesn't? Then what shall you do.

Frederick: *wheezing* Well I've already got one foot in the grave as is, I dare say it-

Isabella: *sniffling* Why have you given up all hope?

Frederick: *sitting up frantically* What hope is there with a disease such as this?! You watched what it did to Eleanor. I've already started wasting away, you see my jaw. Soon, I shall become an emaciated cripple too. There is nothing to be done, and I know this.

Isabella: Goodness me, lie back down! How could you sit here and call her a cripple before me? If Max heard you say that about her I'm sure he'd slap you!

Frederick: Forgive me, I didn't mean that. Truthfully, I didn’t, I know what she meant to you. For me to call her that wasn't right at all. What I meant to say was that there's no hope and I shall soon be an invalid.

Isabella: And that's alright, we will take care of you just as we did her. I just wish you'd tell Aurelia yourself and not put the strain on Max. You know tomorrow is also his Mama's birth-

Frederick: SHIT. *coughing* Shit, I forgot about that. Oh, and I'm forcing him to go to this ball. How wicked I am Bell, how wicked.

Isabella: Yes. *softly chuckling* very wicked. But it's good, he needs to associate with more people. More friends would be of service to him, though I still can't convince him to take a wife.

Frederick: *wheezing* Get him to cut that *shallow breathing* God awful hair. Or has he already done it like I requested? Also, for a wife then he should have Aurelia because I can't! Who else better to marry her now than him? I'll be damned if she marries that Carew fellow. I'll haunt him.

Isabella: Yes, he's already had it cut, and Frederick you know he couldn't possibl-

North: I don't mean to interrupt you Madam, but shall I put in the order for the chair.?

Isabella: Yes, thank you.

Frederick: A chair for what?

Isabella: You, you fool. You can barely breathe and you were winded going up the stairs last night. It's for your own good.

Frederick: I am not yet an invalid!

Isabella: “Yet.”

[shmowderslut]

I recently started a "im going to read EVERYTHING" bachelor playthrough, and im surpriced i havent seen anyone talk about the many-legged fugitive side quest. Im sick and feel like my brain is filled with rats, so here's my unorganized and unholy feelings about it.

MINOR MECHANIC SPOILERS BELOW!! PLOT SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

First of all the house you need to go in is *not* easy to find, it is not the nearest house to the staircase (also theres two of them!) and definetly isnt visible from the stillwater. I have to confess, i needed to look it up online, and even the guide had misplaced the marker! As always, the frustration fuels me, and makes my love this game even more. And this is day 1! Its a nightmare and i love it. If youre stuck here, its okay, it seems like so many people were too.

Plot and character spoilers under the cut!

Okay now into the juicy stuff. Technically not about the quest yet, but we're getting there.

You get the quest talking to Lara Ravel, after learning about her from talking to Yulia in the main mission. A thing i dont think is mentioned a lot is that Yulia dislikes Lara Ravel. Now Yulia being a queer woman in stem (i will not accept criticism on this) She raves about all the other women like theire goddesses (they are) but she sees Lara as ungenuine and almost sad.

"She pities everyone she comes across, for she knows they will all die just like her dearly departed. She sees a corpse in everyone she looks upon"

And maybe i havent been paying attention, but this is very different from how Lara is usually portrayed, as a literal angel and a philanthropist. She always stood out to me as a surprisingly simple and good character is pathologic, so i was exactic to find out this detail of hers. Also the relationship says a lot about Yulia and her no-nonsense attitude, that she values honesty over good deeds.

Then we finally get to the quest in itself, where Lara tells you the children have brought an old dangerous game back. They used to play doctor using a dangerous mix of medicine and pretend healed eachother. She asks you to find a secret stash these kids hid and destroy all the shmowders (again, i went a lil insane trying to find the house). Unfortunately the bachelor is just too late, again, and the stash has been distributed among the children.

Theres 2 dogheads you can talk to, one of them tells you more about shmowders. That they doent believe in shmowders and its the little kids who are playing epidemic with deadly conjuctures. They blame Capella for distributing them, and all the kids should just go to the polyhedron to stay safe.

The second doghead tells you that yes, the shmowders do work and they came in use the last outbreak. That the kids were safe in the polyhedron, but some of them wandered out and made shmowders. Shmowders that were stored in this stash, but have now disappeared. Also as a fun fact, he tells you the spesific people who made the shmowders. Now i dont recognize these, but if you do please tell me.

"The original ones were made by Catchfly, but they were no good; the disease would pass, but the person would pass away along with it. But then Beaker's brothers made some nice ones. Crowfoot's weren't too shabby, and neither were Flanky's..."

I just think its neat to have an in universe reason the pumpkin girl sometimes carries a shmowder. Also this plays into what i think is the most prevalent pathologic theme, two impossible truths existing at the same time. The shmowders are a live saving medicine AND poison. Its childrens imagination AND real. You get the jist, my head hurts and im going to sleep

Also if you read this far, thank you?!? I am in no state to check this for clarity, but im pretty rambly (battling to not write a fanfic about this quest) and this is not my native language

[theladyregret]

Wow, I...vastly underestimated how much you guys would vibe with the whole The Walking Dead in Space thing lol ok well...now that I have a day off from work here's some of the ideas I've been thinking about while bored this week.

----------

Human Diplomat: Hey, is there a reason all the water access areas don't allow humans anymore? Don't you guys know we have high water requirements?

Alien Space Station technician: Oh! No one told you?

Human: Told us what?

Alien: Sorry, they were supposed to tell you. Our apologizes, this must look terrible.

Human: Tell. Us. What?

Alien: Our bio filters detected the disease you all carry in the stations water supply after you visited last. Our scientists ran some tests and found that it can survive almost indefinitely in water and is highly resistant to our water treatments. We had to purge and decontaminate the entire system. We created a separate system for your use that is more isolated. You can use those....I....uh...are you ok? Is this sufficient?

Human, frantically writing in a log book: Oh? Yes, fine...that's fine!

Second human: I think you guys just solved a centuries old mystery for us.

Alien, looking confused: What mystery?

Second human: How our species all became infected so quickly.

Alien: You never found out?

Human: It wiped out 99% of our population during the initial outbreak...the how and why of it kind of stopped mattering after a bit, you know?

---------

Galactic News Reporter: Tragedy today after the recent excavation of the lost human mining crew in sector 92. Against human recommendations, rescuers continued their efforts throughout the week. The human deceased, commonly referred to as Walkers, attacked and killed several rescue parties before the site had to be bombed by air support military. Diplomats from several species met once again today to discuss the risks of open contact with the Humans and whether stricter protocols need to be put in place.

Video feed cuts to a human diplomat standing in a room full of multiple different aliens: We told you what to do! You didn't listen! You never listen to us! If you had, none of this would have happened!

Alien Politician: You recommended that the tunnels be collapsed before any excavation be conducted prior to the time frame denoted by safety regulations which would have condemned any potential survivors-

Human, hitting the table in front of him with his fists: YOU'RE STILL NOT LISTENING!

--------

Transport ship pilot over PA system: Our ship is currently on approach to the Human home planet of Terra. Be aware that we will be passing through the debris field left over from the Human Colony Wars which will require us to drop out of FTL. Our ship is specially equipped for this journey so rest assured we are in no danger from the debris. It is recommended that any windows be shielded for the duration of this time, thank you.

Human passenger pulls the shade down for their window with a sigh.

The alien next to them looks curious: Why do the windows need to be covered?

Human: Some people find the...debris...disturbing. *the way they said debris sounded sarcastic*

Alien: ...humans find broken ships disturbing?

Human: You didn't do very much research before coming here did you?

Alien just looks confused.

Human reaches over and opens the window cover. They pass close by one of the wrecked ships and at first it looks like any other debris field...then something moves and they realize it's a body. A human body floating in space. It jerks and twists as they pass by. Mouth opening and closing. The alien jerks back in surprise.

Human: The vacuum of space means they don't decompose so...all those people who didn't die properly...they're just out there...like that. Thousands of soldiers. Ships just full of Walkers.

They pass by another ship. This one looks intact and newer.

Alien: That's not human...

Human: Pirates...scavengers. Sometimes they try to come in and take metal from the ships...but...without the proper shielding.

They pass to the other side and there's a hole torn into the side of the ship.

Human: Just another corpse in a field of corpses. Food for the dead.

Alien looking horrified: Why not clean it out?

Human: Why take the risk? Besides...it keeps out the unwanted.

They pass by the corpse of an alien floating in space that still has a walker clinging to it, idly chewing on what still has flesh attached to it. This walker looks more decayed then the other one had. The alien looks like they might be sick so the human shuts the shade again. They don't talk the rest of the way.

[lemonswoop]

Stray is one of my top 10 games of all time, so I decided to do a little replay to remind myself why I love it so much.

Full journal entry under the cut

Stray

Start date:8/18

End date: 8/27

Platform: Steam Deck

Hours played: 14

Rating: 5/5

On the day I finished Stray I sat back and said "I can feel this game is going to be very special to me." It's an odd game to be in my top 10 games of all time. I knew the simple concept of playing as a little cat (with me being a huge cat lover) would be an instant favorite, but I didn't expect that the message of the game would hit a particular soft spot in my heart.

What I thought would be a silly little cat sim set in a cyberpunk city turned out to be a twist on the classic dystopian future filled with hope, love and the beauty of the human spirit.

The game starts off with a cat falling into a walled slums of a domed society where humans have been dead for thousands of years. Our tiny cat protagonist meets the very last known human in existence, B12, a scientist whose consciousness gets uploaded into a tiny drone. Disease and plague ravaged the futuristic city, leaving nothing but memories and the robot companions programed to serve its lost inhabitants. But something special happened;

In the forsaken slums, gritty and filled with despair, hope thrived before the humans passed. When energy was capped, rebellion lit up the city with neon lights. When things seemed bleak, humans created art, tended to thriving plants, and hugged their loved ones tight. They went to bars to get sloppy drunk and laugh off the dark times with friends.

They Lived.

"Humans often said that making art is important in desperate situations. There are certainly desperate times."

Humans may have passed, but humanity lived on in the companion robots who gained sentience. The only models they had was what humanity had left behind for them. In the lowest levels of society is where the beautiful parts of humanity survived. The robot citizens didn't need to eat, wear clothes, love one another, but they did so because of the examples that were left for them. They fostered a community to protect one another all while dreaming of it all being better somehow.

The main goal of a small group was to open up the domed city, see the blue sky and go back to the long abandoned outside. It's what the humans would have wanted, and a place the robots have only ever heard about in stories.

One of my favorite aspects of the game is that while it reaches far beyond the scope of a little cat plot-wise, the cat represented a larger theme of hope for better still existing and it was time to start trying to reach it again. The cat inspired brave and bold actions in the robots, all resulting in finally reaching the top of the walled city. A sterile place where the rich and powerful operation controllers all lived; now gone. And in that city no culture, no art, no humanity survived. The robots were just robots, forever following the last directive they were given before humanity perished.; A pristine wasteland.

B12, the last human, sacrifices himself to take down the system and open the walled city to the bright blue sky. No longer did B12 feel the need to carry the weight of humanities past because they never left. They just belonged to a new society lovingly passed down. A future existed where our best qualities as a collective are what survived.

Sometimes I feel as if the beautiful message of this game gets overlooked, which is a shame when its a message I feel we all can use when the world at large feels bleak.

Nothing is ever wasted or in vain. The beauty of humanity is in what we leave behind. Even the small and whimsical things that only exist to bring us joy; they all matter.

Making music, art, reading, tending to a garden, hugging a loved one, holding onto hope... and yes, loving and finding companionship in a little cat.

"But I see a future in the companions, and in you."

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

what are gallifreyan attitudes towards disability? can disabled time lords whose disabilities last through each regeneration exist?

What are Gallifreyan attitudes towards disability?

🧐 What Counts as a Disability?

Gallifreyan perceptions of disability differ significantly from human views. Here’s a breakdown of how they might see things:

Physical Impairments: Any physical condition that hampers a Time Lord’s abilities or regenerations might be considered a disability. However, Gallifreyan technology can compensate for these, making them less noticeable.

Mental Health: Conditions affecting cognitive or psychic functions could also be viewed as disabilities, especially if they impact a Time Lord’s duties or abilities. Given their advanced telepathic abilities, disruptions here can be quite significant.

Temporal and Psionic Sensitivity: Issues with handling time travel or psychic abilities could be classified as disabilities. This includes difficulties in time perception or problems with their innate psychic connections.

Interestingly, some conditions that humans consider disabilities might not be viewed with he same eye by Gallifreyans. For example, things like needing a prosthetic are probably easily rectified or managed with tech, so not considered disabilities at all.

🔬 The Ideal of Perfection

Being the Gift of Rassilon, regeneration is obviously a 'completely flawless process'. As a result, disabilities could be viewed as anomalies, mismanagement or failures in the regenerative process. This could lead to stigma and prejudice against the affected individual.

🏛️ The Official Stance

Officially, the Gallifreyan elite state that disabilities among Time Lords are exceedingly rare, and that regeneration ensures perfect health and functionality. The High Council maintains that any claims of persistent disabilities are not true or merely minor issues, attributing them to misinformation or misunderstandings of the regenerative process.

However, such places as Shadow Houses did exist at some point, and may still do.

Can disabilities persist through regenerations?

Yes - disabilities can either persist through several incarnations or be more of a one-time thing:

Genetic Anomalies: These might lead to disabilities that appear in every regeneration. Some genetic issues are deeply rooted in biodata and are difficult to eliminate without getting biodata rewritten through the proper legal channels.

Severe Trauma: Extreme physical or psychic trauma could leave lasting effects over multiple regenerations. These effects could sometimes carry over in subtle ways, such as chronic pain or psychic scars.

Regenerative Malfunctions: Shock, horror! The regeneration process can be unpredictable, leading to unique conditions or disabilities that persist throughout life.

Chronic Illness: Certain diseases disrupt the regenerative process, causing persistent disabilities. These illnesses can be rare and might require continuous management across incarnations.

Disabilities in Time Lords could vary significantly in each regeneration. While one incarnation might struggle with a disability, the next might not, depending on the nature/cause of the condition.

🏫 So ...

What constitutes a disability differs on Gallifrey, but persistent and incarnation-specific disabilities might occur due to genetic anomalies, severe trauma, regenerative malfunctions, or chronic illnesses. Everything’s fine, though - just ask the High Council.

Related:

Do Time Lord-specific disabilities exist?: Types of disabilities specifically for Gallifreyans, both known and theoretical.

How do Gallifreyans deal with regeneration disparities?: How Gallifreyan society perceives and deals with those unable to regenerate.

What counts as a safety hazard for regeneration?: Risk factors in regeneration.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any purple text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired😴

[bruciemilf]

(Ok so this is based on my own pooch, a chihuahua, who was runt of the litter and now has no understanding of boundaries)

But puppy Jason when he gets comfortable around Bruce and Alfred loses all concepts of personal space. He takes full advantage of the fact that he's in a loving environment with a Bruce that loves all of his affection.

He starts out testing the waters by going to laying on Bruce's feet right when he was about to get up from his chair, to see what Bruce will do. And of course Bruce stays still for as long as Jay wants because his baby looks so comfortable.

Jason pushes it further by zooming to the couch before Bruce sits down so he can lay behind him while he sits. Bruce can't recline or have his back touch the couch, but he doesn't care since he's too busy celebrating in his head.

The trials continue and Bruce still lets Jason get into his space however and wherever he wants.

And now the manor has a 400 pound were that will push himself into the tiniest nooks to get close to Bruce.

Sometimes someone wants to say something because of how ridiculous the image is, but then they see how content Bruce and Jason look and they just leave them be.

Sidenote, pooch is my favourite English word

TRIALS OF TOLERANCE ARE MY FAVOURITE JASON TODD TROPE!! Because frankly, trying to peek under a mask of kind stone all the time? Trying to see the knife glaring behind gentle, tired eyes and permanently thin smile? That's exhausting. It's tiring.

Jason wants the punch before the slap. He knows how to deal with that - this unconditional understanding and quiet sympathy for Bruce? It's unsteady and rocky and slippery in his grip.

So this is how it starts - it starts little. Chewing on Bruce's shoes until his tongue tastes of leather even hours after. Playing outside on rainy days, when the mud sticks like glue on paper, and just dashing across the just-polished floors. Literally eating Bruce's documents and blueprints.

And everytime? Bruce simply shakes his head and waits for Jason to turn back, for his claws to dull, for his teeth to lose the sharp edge that bit and tore at Bruce's skin multiple times. " Should we clean this together?"

" You clean it. It's YOUR house."

" Yes, it is. But it's your home, Jason. You don't want a dirty den, right?"

No. His old one was devoured by filth, and choking mold, and walls rattling with rats and other diseases. He misses it dearly. " Maybe I do."

Bruce accepts this easily, hum easy and smooth. " Okay, then. " And he simply walks away, leaving Jason standing there with his red rain boots, confusion on his face and something pleasant pouring peace in his chest.

He ends up cleaning it, because he feels bad, and because Alfred has a bad knee, and it's his mess; That Bruce wants to help with anyway. He cuddles Jason very close after that, but only when Jason whimpers at his bedroom door, his tiny paws padding againts it.

UH, PLEASE. POOCH JASON DEMANDING TO BE CARRIED IN BRUCE'S PURSE. (" it's not a purse, technically." " Master Wayne, I must ask you stop before choking on your testosterone.") AND BRUCE SNEAKS HIM LITTLE TREATS ALWAYS!

Jason as a 400 pound werewolf Bruce still calls " Puppy" even when getting tackled by said 400 pounds of fluffy fur and aggressive love

[dykeulous]

SURROGACY

what exactly is surrogacy? it is the process in which a woman carries a child for another couple & delivers it to them. this is often seen as something innocent, and almost always slides in feminist eyes. this is because not enough research was done on it, and because the same rhetoric as the “happy hooker” was applied to masking surrogacy as a non-exploitative, safe & non-dangerous process. a happy surrogate.

surrogacy is & always has been an attack against lower-class women’s bodies. through a marxist lens, the woman’s body is the means of production and the woman is the worker. the child would be the capital and the parents are the wage payers. there is absolutely no way for this process to be consensual, it is inherently exploitive in & of itself. it is assault and many surrogates would end up feeling emotionally attached to the baby, but then they are coerced to deliver their baby to someone else. infertility is not an excuse, and neither is being homosexual. if you think being homosexual or infertile gives you the right to use women’s bodies, specifically poor women’s bodies as vending birth machines; then you might have to check your ethics.

lower-class women get coerced into the labor of pregnancy hoping to gain a positive income which may help them survive in this capitalistic society. sounds familiar? exactly. prostituted women, just like surrogates, are lower-class women who attempt to make their conditions of living easier. both execute dangerous labor, both are lumpenproletariat. the whole process of surrogacy also all connects back to child trafficking. the people literally pay someone else to deliver them a child; buying a child as if they are a product. what is more, most of surrogates come ethnically from eastern europe/slavic places or southern asia, which also creates a lime ribbon of racism & xenophobia as women of color & slavic women are, through the process of surrogacy, exploited for the benefit of wealthy western women.

“but not all surrogates are motivated by the money” sure, they aren’t. but, should we let this exploitative industry effloresce just because there are women out there who just want to do this “simple act of service” to “help”? those babies are separated from the only mother they know when they are born, and then they are sold off to a complete selfish stranger. whether you think surrogacy is a heartfelt process because you’re a conservative who advocates for infertile people, or because you’re a liberal who thinks the same because it gives homosexuals the chance to finally have kids; surrogacy remains a capitalistic, racist & sexist practice. it is beyond unethical. psychological trauma and health issues can be guaranteed.

next to surrogacy, we have yet another extremely horrifying process: egg donation. however, i prefer to refer to it as organ selling, as you’re not really “donating” anything. egg donation mainly targets financially vulnerable women. it highlights the female body as an empty storage robot to be used: as a mere child-bearing incubator. women’s bodies are only valuable because we have the ability to reproduce children. furthermore, it is entirely structured through eugenics. it’s mostly required for the egg donor to be a woman of specific race, physical & even intellectual traits; and yes, it is sometimes required for the woman to have specific results on certain standardized tests. this is true commodification of real people. the physical effects are also very risk-inducing, often including: effects on fertility, chronic disease, various cancers that may develop years later and more. most couples won’t let the egg donor visit their half-child, leaving the egg donor exhausted, confused, and wondering about the child’s well-being.

through a feminist & marxist analysis, we can easily debunk the ethics of both those processes.

[ithaquasbbg]

Just thought I’d dump this to give people a better understanding of my writing! This was really inspired by @/turbulentscrawl (I don’t know if tagging is fine with them, but I’ll link the original work below!!) after this I’ll get back to requests!

Original work linked here

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Oletus manor - General Headcanons

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Tw : none

Extra : I’ve been doing a lot of fun writing on Freeform topics recently, and have gotten some fics to 3,000 words. Perhaps I’ll share them here someday.

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|🩷| The size of the manor can be quite shocking to people. It appears large on the outside, yes, but not large enough to house over 40 residents. (I think the total is currently 43 at the time I’m writing this?). Inside, there’s some sort of reality warping magic going on (for lack of a better word) that allows the manor to extend as much as it may need to inside without it expanding on the outside.

|🩷| Hunters and survivors do reside in the same manor, but are divided into two separate wings.

|🩷| The east side houses the Survivors rooms, a gathering area, kitchen and dining area among other necessities. This side of the manor is significantly larger and more tedious to get around due to the amount of residents.

|🩷| The hunters side of the manor has all the same basic elements with a smaller size. Though they may have slightly larger rooms.

|🩷| Dual faction residents can choose between which side of the manor they would prefer their room to be in.

|🩷| In the center of the manor is a large shared space, including yet another kitchen and dining area, a ballroom, the garden and a large gathering area among others.

|🩷| Outside of matches, the survivors do not have their doll like appearances. The reason they look like dolls in matches is simply because it’s easier to repair a doll than to heal serious injuries on a person.

|🩷| I’d like to say that the hunters appear more human outside of matches. There’s no real reason for this, other than the fact that I doubt anybody is going to date a giant talking lizard (.. if you are I’m a little afraid /j)

|🩷| There are long periods of time without matches, sometimes there’s matches daily, while other times the residents can go weeks or even months without matches. They’re randomly selected as well.

|🩷| The manor has people from varying times in history, and each residents room reflects the time they were alive. Say there was a modern era resident, they may have electronics in their room! The rest of the manor could theoretically be updated with more modern items as well, but any updates are usually kept to the kitchens and bathrooms. (Televisions may scare the older era residents too much.. Ithaqua)

|🩷| The showers are heated by several water heaters but are unfortunately not unlimited. Because of this, there are instances where the hot water will run out, and arguments ensue.

|🩷| The weather is typically predictable and can provide the residents a sense of time they may otherwise lose track of. There is no threat of serious weather like tornadoes, but the storms can still get quite violent and unnerving for some of the residents.

|🩷| Injuries sustained during matches do not carry over to the survivors or hunters real bodies (hence the dolls!!) but all the pain that they feel during the matches is very much real.

|🩷| Unfortunately, the manor residents do get sick from time to time. This mostly occurs when a new resident joins the manor, as most peoples immunity cannot protect them from the diseases. But they are unable to die from them.

|🩷| Survivors and hunters can access the match locations when matches are not taking place (for example they can play at moonlight river park)

|🩷| Since everyone is going to stuck together for an indefinite amount of time, relationships do form.

|🩷| Survivors who had health conditions or disabilities before coming to the manor do still suffer from them in the manor (but in cases like Joseph’s, the mental effects of mercury poisoning are not as prominent, and they are left with the physical effects like tremors, weakness, ect.)

|🩷| Some npcs are also in the manor (the ones that lore has confirmed, like miles, or the ones that have been dragged in through costumes like Nathaniel. Im really desperate)

|🩷| Food items and other necessities such as hygiene products are refilled or restocked whenever needed.

|🩷| Each room comes with decorations of the residents preference, and also has a small bathroom with a shower or bath inside. This way, people don’t have to share showers.

|🩷| Wardrobes are not limited to just in game skins, but they are included in them. Casual and sleepwear is also included!

|🩷| Skins from other franchises are debatable. If the skin is still the original character (like Joseph and Emma’s hello Kitty crossover skins), then they are part of the residents wardrobe. But if they’re another character outside of the manor residents, it is only cosmetic (same goes with truth and inference)

|🩷| Same goes for skins from other universes, like Coa or Morningstar essences, for example. Once costumes where a character is reverted back to childhood don’t translate either, like blind spot. But if they’re adults in their once skins, they can translate and have effects on the mental status of the wearer, such as Joseph’s hangover skin

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….THIS WAS SO LONG- but I do enjoy dumping Headcanons down, and maybe you all will enjoy them as well.