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bet-on-me-13 · 5 months

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Ellie isn't allowed to travel alone Anymore

So! Ellie was raised in a Lab by a Genuine Bonefied Supervillain. She was raised to be a Villain as well, so her Moral Conpass is a little skewed.

Sure she *mostly* knows what is right and wrong from Danny's quick lesson before her Adventure around the Country, but she still has trouble separating what is moral and what is not from time to time.

So it's really no surprise that the moment she left Amity Park she somehow ended up being branded a Villain.

Look, it's not her fault she didn't know not to attack the flying guy in Blue Spandex when he approached her! One of Danny's biggest warnings shen she left had been Stranger Danger! She did what any 12 year old girl would have done when approached by a strange Older Man!

Its also not her fault that her powers (being Magic based), managed to affect him! She didn't even use her full power! (She maybe should have kicked him in a different place tho...she hopes he wasn't planning on having kids...)

So she did what her instincts told her to do. She took any money he had on him and ran the hell away!

It wasn't until she was 2 cities over when she saw a newspaper titled, "Little Villain Girl Mugs Superman in Broad Daylight!", that she realized she may have screwed up...

After that, she really had no excuse.

She knew that she probably shouldn't have kept Mugging the Heroes who approached her, but she wasn't a Fenton for nothing! Her Family Motto had always been "Commit to the Bit", and she was gonna stick to it!

So when the Fast Red Guy tried to tie her up, she phased off all his clothes and took off with his money (not the mask, she knew enough not to take that off)

And when the Grumpy Bat Guy tried to corner her with some weird papers he pulled out of his Belt, she just distracted him while her clone picked his pockets and made off with the wheels of his Car. That one made her a pretty penny!

The flying Green Guy was fun, his attacks were just throwing Ghost Candy (pure willpower) at her. He did stop doing do after she nicked his fancy talking Ring however, but it was fun while it lasted

Then she came across a Orange Fish Guy, and he actually seemed nice enough. But she was committing to the Bit, so she took the fancy Trident he had and sold it at a nearby Pawn Shop for some extra cash. He would probably be able to find it, that's why she chose a nearby location.

All in All, her Adventure had been really fun! So she decided to visit Amity Park again to tell Danny all about it!

...

Aquaman walked into the meeting room of the Watchtower, a very frustrated look in his eye.

Barry spoke up first, "Oh! I know that look in your eye! She got to you too didn't she!"

Arthur just glared at Barry for a second before walking over to his Chair, sitting down with a thump. "She is certainly a tricky child."

"What did she take this time?" Clark asked.

"..mttrident..." Arthur grumbled out quickly.

"What was that?" Asked Barry with a twinkle in his eye. He heard it, but he wanted everybody else to know.

"She took my trident, Okay!" Arthur shouted out.

"I feel ya man." Responded Hal, "At least with me she threw it back at me when she realized it wasn't making 'candy' anymore. What did she do with yours?"

"She sold it at a Pawn Shop!" Arthus yelled in frustration, "She managed to steal one of the most Powerful Magical Weapons in the world, the Symbol of the entire Atalantean Royal Bloodline, and she sold it and a Pawn Shop!"

"...how much did she get for it?" Asked Hal.

At this, Aquaman just collapsed to the table and groaned.

...

Alternatively she could have just kept all those things, and gradually built up a collection of all the JLA's most treasured possessions.

She has Supermans Wallet, not very important to him but it was her first mugging

She has Batmans Utility Belt (trackers removed) along with his Tires

She took Flashes Costume Ring (his civilian clothes still stuck inside)

She took Green Lanterns ring as well, but unfortunately it managed to escape after a few days. It was feisty.

And her crowning Jewel is the Trident she took from Aquaman.

(She avoided WW, cause she likes her too much to steal anything from her)

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qvrcll · 11 days

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Warnings: mentions of political marriages, strangers > friends > lovers, kissing near towards the end, mentat at mind, lover boy at heart

The ordeal is simple — at-least on paper. You and Paul are meant to be wed on the single promise of a shared goal between the two of your houses, which come down to one thing and one thing only: security. Wealth, power and standing do not surmount to what, in Leto’s words, the Emperor has planned for the futility of house Atreides. He knows, Thufir knows, everyone knows, that Arrakis wasn’t branded to be some sweetly wrapped gift that fell into his lap when the time came to reward the duke. No - matters of this sort were much too systematic, especially at a scale such as this. Something must be done, to solidify the house of Atreides upon the rain-swept expanse of Caladan. Something to bind the Atreides to their mother planet long enough, so there might not be strife or conflict that sharpens whatever blade is held against them. So, wed Paul you must.

Simple doesn’t translate so easily against the obscurity that is the real world.

In the real world, the two of you are mere strangers. The only thing that binds the two of you is the responsibility bourne from the insignias that you wear, that are soon to culminate as two adjoining houses; whilst his happen to be two thick lines of silver against his collar, yours take on a different shape, a strange alterity between curves and striking lines, and shot through with gold against the sleeve of your garments. There is it — the mere tellings of your differences, as pure as day. He wonders how the symbols will look like, meshed together and serving as one. He wonders how he will appear next to you - frail boy or able man?

Half of the time, you catch his eye simply because you are there, sitting duly next to your father and ascertaining the weight of such a marriage past paper, when all is said and done. Other times, you are a blurring fragment in the hallways, swathed in your house’s colours and too fleeting to get a hold on, sometimes even flanked by your house’s livery. Mere strangers, he reminds the indiscernible feeling in his chest.

“Where is your head at? Focus!” Gurney growls out, more harsh tempered than his usual mood, as he crouches and takes Paul’s fair strike for what it was - a clean swipe that was meant for his chest, which now deflects smoothly off of the older, more haggard man’s shield, and sets the room abuzz with vibrations. And so the smell of ozone worsens, Paul calculates in his head, as he shakes his head thoroughly and shifts his grip on his weapon. Gurney isn’t impressed — not in the way he usually is. Paul knows he must answer.

“This is me focusing,” Paul offers, and doesn’t grit his teeth or possess a sudden candour with his strikes because he respects Gurney. But he cannot help the mood that has blanched him - voids, how he wishes he could confess those words, verbatim, to the older man who currently encircles his passes like a seasoned ring-fighter. But the word ‘mood’ had gotten him in line last week, when Gurney had simply upped his antics with the mere mention of it, “I’m just out of breath.”

“No, you’re not.” Gurney smiles, clenching his palm around the ragged hilt of the Kindjal. He knows, Paul thinks bitterly.

“No, I’m not.” Paul confesses. He tests a low swoop of his dagger - ill-advised - and reigns his laugh in when it catches Gurney off his feet, his back staggering against the training table.

Let’s see how you like this, lad, Gurney formalises in his mind, as he presses his defence like a bull and keeps his attacks slow and pulsing through the air, blinding all of Paul’s spots, “Is it the marriage?”

Cornered for tactics, and focusing mostly on not getting cleaved to pieces during training, Paul scoffs, “Of course it’s the marriage.”

“You’re scared.”

At this, Paul counters metal with metal, bounding back when it rings against his ears, rings against the room, “I’m not scared. I’m prepared to fulfil my duty, even if I am given options,” a dull parry, which still creates momentum, and thus space, between the two men, “I’m only uneasy because I’ve never actually met her.”

“You have. Several times. Or have you been asleep throughout your father’s meetings?”

Paul stresses a firm strike against Gurney, which repels off of his own shield by how close the dagger strikes the space between them. But he’s good at catching himself. Gurney, unused to Paul’s strange and newly learnt manoeuvres, falls short. He tries to counter, but cannot, but he is most impressed for it.

“Concede.” Paul breathes, low and attempting a threatening veil, as Gurney’s back meets the floor. The old man grunts, before nodding deftly as Paul hauls him to his feet with one palm alone. They settle in different corners of the room, silence beseeching both of them suddenly - they’re not two men for silence, but in Gurney’s head, Paul is undergoing a strange part of his life. He wonders if Paul fears it in the night.

Paul interjects Gurney’s thoughts.

“Do you - have you… met her?” his voice is meek. Uncharacteristic. Gurney smirks.

“Once or twice, in the hallways.”

“And? How is she?”

Gurney laughs. The boy is eager today.

The next time I see her, I will speak, he promises.

Better said than done. With no similar companions his age - a course of action being the very result of his heritage, his mother reminds him - he truly doesn’t know how to properly seek you out. You are more shadow than friend, more idea than person, and the more he sees you, the more he forgets.

“Something on your mind?” Duncan nudges him with the edge of some Fremen equipment, that bothers him well enough to dredge out Paul’s concerns. Not that he needs to. It is written on his face.

“Yes,” Paul confesses, readjusting for comfort, “It’s about my marriage.”

“You speak as though you will marry tomorrow. It is not set it stone. Not yet.”

Paul scoffs, “I know that. I just haven’t met her yet. And I want to.”

Duncan, in the midst of polishing some hardware and solar devices, that smell quite faintly of hot sand and the sun, pauses to glance away from Paul’s face. When his gaze returns, it is almost teasing, a smirk ripping across his face, “You’re in luck today.”

“What?” Paul swivels and —

Oh. Oh.

You’re standing there. Hands clasped behind your back, yes. Stoic, assessing expression, yes. Clothed in rich colours of your house, as you always are in his passing vision - only this time, it is a green so deep that it comes across as black. Suddenly, realising that you have been found out by not only Duncan Idaho, but by the Duke’s son himself, you uncharacteristically let slip your own embarrassment through wide eyes.

“Oh. My apologies — I, uh, didn’t mean to intrude. I was just curious by the - er - gadgets.” you fumble for words at a rate that would be comical if not for the morbid embarrassment seizing you by the seconds. You’re shaking your head politely, smile strained and legs rooted where they are and ready to melt into the various corridors - back to your own duties, you assume. Away from company. Paul, however, stands linearly and full of purpose, face constructed of hard lines that all smile at you.

“No, please. Join us,” his voice is smooth - you’ve never heard him talk, even around those board room meetings - and his hand is extended to gesture within the space, “I insist.”

Duncan raises a brow in amusement and Paul wants to tamp his feet down with a neat blow. That pulls a chortle out of the man, which only further startles you. Paul invites you cordially to take a seat, where you fit awkwardly, like you were truly imposing. However, in a manner of minutes, that is all erased when Duncan lets the two of you weigh the objects in your hand – sand compactor, weapons, stinted devices that were far too aged to be still of use but gathering attention nonetheless. When Paul passes it to you, he feels your soft fingers pass underneath his own, where a warm feeling curdles as an afterthought.

“This—is a sand compactor?” you ask warily, tilting the device as though it would spring up on you and dissolve to bits. Duncan barks out a laugh.

“For sand compacting, yes.” he humours you. You, however, are too lost on the object, still swirling it around in your palms; eyes peeled downwards.

“Yes. I see.” you reply.

The two men dissolve into a fit of laughter. You look up, eyes helplessly trailing from one to the next. The day is easy.

Paul is thankful for the event, and so are you. It doesn’t solve all his problems, and his head is always probing with inquiries and worries, but he can count on the off chance of seeing you in the hallways. He can count on the fact that you will pause, meet his eyes and smile.

You’re walking the countless hallways of the estate - Caladan had so much water to offer, but no one on your native planet ever mentioned the striking architecture, the hollowed out walls and think-pieces painted across rooms. High domed ceilings, with absolutely nothing to offer but soft light. Some rooms contained scintillating glass, chairs of different shapes and mediums, tables too big for just a few affairs. Others were bound shut, but that didn’t discourage nor intimidate you, nor your entourage.

On one such day, you’re caught in your explorations by none other than the Atreides heir.

In actuality, it is you who catches him first, stood perfectly still at the end of the corridor and holding a terse expression. When he spots you, his shoulders relax and he manages to blink once, before his mouth opens underneath the realisation that you were really here.

“Hello.” his voice is strong, and carries well.

That was awkward. This is always awkward. He curses himself.

You smile, and it swipes at the ground beneath his feet, “I didn’t expect to see you here.

“This is my residence, yes?” more jest than anything else. You snort.

“I am aware. Your residence is quite beautiful. I like to wander,” you say, finding yourself fixing a meandering pace beside him, and he smiles softly when he realises that he, too, steps beside you at a similar speed, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t. Never.”

It is quick work after that – by pure coincidence, that you joke to Paul that is it is methodical instincts and ground-work as a mentat that he is able to summon himself almost anywhere you are present from that point onwards, you two bump into each other more and more in the corridors, and from there, it extends to the rather large library, the training space with Gurney skirting its edges, the ever-blossoming gardens even, which held more water than shrubbery in retrospect. Meetings pertaining to your marriage held an element of amusement now, as Paul actually tries to catch your eye this time, drumming his lithe and smooth fingers against the table in a way that could’ve passed off as a wandering of his mind as his father droned on about security measures and fuel caps, but you notice.

You hadn’t, not before, but you did now. To his pleasure, you even respond in a tiny flickering of fingers against the age-old meeting table, the vibrations a blur against his obvious contentment.

“You look glad.” Gurney comments and Paul realises how uninvolved his attention had been on the room before him. He quickly assesses it and whatever lays within it; table, check. Light source, check. Scratchy walls, check. Gurney’s ever-gracing height, check.

When had his habits, trained and chained to duty, begun to sweep towards you?

“Do I?” Paul asks, keeping his voice as still as he can manage. He had swiped at his face to rid the itch off his brow, but he unwittingly catches how warm he is. Not uncomfortable, no. But enough to leave a mark on his consciousness. It was like he was simply losing grip on his own composure when he thought of… something. It was still fleeting in his own mind.

He is too afraid to retrace his steps and find a familiar pair of eyes staring at him in the recesses of it.

Gurney slaps a hand on Paul’s shoulder, seemingly articulate with the latter’s feelings. Old man, Paul would curse out in jest, but he merely smiles. It is strained, and strange. Paul never puts an effort into his smiles, Gurney notes.

“Something is on your mind.” Gurney clicks his tongue.

Paul blinks, swallows, “Something is on my mind.”

“Out with it.”

Paul hesitates, which is strange, because in all his fights he is the first to stoke the flame. He isn’t vengeful – at-least, he doesn’t think he is – that’s why his strikes lack a hunger for blood and instead, settle for calculation. Briefness. No means to an end just yet. Or ever, he thinks.

But with you, it’s different. That’s what he spits out, what he lets Gurney work with. How you were a supposed intrusion into his life – something he had assumed would be awkward, like a stab wound that had scabbed over and began to weakly throb in pain, always to remind itself of its own compromise to work around demise. He thought you would be that; but upon meeting you, you were anything but that. You were curious and brilliant in your own way – similar to him, yet miles apart so that you were the form of a friend he had always wished for in his youth. You talked about your interests and spent double your time inquiring about his. When your hands brushed, his own grew clammy – that’s the strangest one of them all, Gurney – And something was blossoming – was it friendship? Was it trust? Was it fear?

What was this spattering and gooey mess slipping over the swell of his heart whenever you appeared? What was it?

He talks and talks and talks until Gurney squeezes his palm over Paul’s shoulder in a way an uncle would do to his nephew who he might want to reassure. Or a brother would to his youngest companion, as if to say: I see you. I hear what you say.

“Sounds to me like there’s an awful lot of trust between the two of you,” Gurney clicks his tongue again, only this time, Paul scoffs. Ah, there he is – there is the Paul Atreides I know, Gurney smiles, “And something else too.”

“What is it?” Paul asks. His eyes are curious, brows furrowed. Gurney holds down the laugh building in his chest, and the emboldened words in red: you’re falling in love with this friend of yours, boy, and instead, pats him on the shoulder.

“Piece of advice, if you’ll heed to anything I say,” Paul straightens with attention, “Let the truth flow. Do not stop it. Do not push it back. To live with the truth, you must learn its ways and be one with it.”

That night, Paul walks back to his room with the truth beneath his skin, and listens to his own heartbeat against his pillow. The rest of him warms with the realisation of, oh, oh, oh.

The next time you see Paul, you think you’d done something to offend him. Or bore him. Or something other.

It had become a pleasant habit; meeting him at the Caladan gardens, opting for a spot and sitting with your backs to the grass, counting the stars as you talked. Before, conversation had tipped forth whenever. Now, there was something in the air – tension. And it is him that brings it.

Paul avoids your eyes, settling instead for the vast colouring of grey across the hallway walls whenever he caught you in it. He had stopped sending you the familiar drumming of his fingertips across the meeting table, and instead always froze up when you met his gaze, whereby he turned red with anger – or was it anger? What was it?

He’d always be staring at your face, and you would wonder if there was a piece of parchment stuck to it, or if he was merely bored around you; most days, you allowed it. It stung, yes, but you had nothing ill to hold against him. But it accumulated, unbeknownst to you, and for him to miss your question yet again made you sigh in defeat – disappointment?

“You seem distracted,” you say, not bothering to shield the hurt in your words, though you couldn’t begin to understand why and when you had ever begun to crave expect the attention of his earthen-dusted eyes, “Am I boring you?”

He straightens up, his eyes wide, which in turn surprises you, “Bored? Seven hells, no. ‘Course not.”

“What did I just ask then?”

He cringes, “I promise I’m not bored. Just…”

His fingers flex in his lap, before curling into themselves, and his cheeks warm slightly. Is it happening now? Is he doing it now? The weather was right; a typical Caladan breeze, heavy with the wetting of the sky from the day, and now shrouded with clouds and a darkness that was impenetrable. Even as the two of you laid against the bare grass, no one outside could tell either of you apart from the ground itself. In the moonlight, you were almost one with it.

“Just?” you ask. You were curious of this now, “Just what?”

“Just!” he sucks in a harsh breath, his sharp face now boyishly soft and pliant in a way you hadn’t seen it before, “I… Just promise you won’t take offence to this.”

How ironic.

“I promise, Paul,” you smile, shoulder bumping against his as you glance at the side of his face, the way his nose shapes perfectly against the dampness of the Calandan wind, “Tell me.”

Be one with it. Be one with it. It is a mantra in his head.

“I realise that I have begun to grow a certain, uh, affection for you. Yes, I like you. I don’t know how it had begun. And I know it’s foolish of me to even act this way when we are set to marry. But I know, in my heart, that—“ a breath, as he nervously glances at your now surprised face and oh, he shuts his mouth. He opens it again, panicked, “My apologies. I shouldn’t have—let me—”

“Paul.” you stop him, hands against his one arm that seems to be quivering ever so slightly – how much of it can he hold?

He waits. Bated breath.

You smile, shy and sweet and it whips against him in a way that the wind of his mother planet had never managed to. Here is my dear friend, he thinks, my dear friend who was but a stranger a long time ago and is set to marry me once talks have been concluded. Here is my friend who I have poured my stupid, ill heart to and who still looks at me with kindness.

“I like you too.”

He blinks. He looks at you when you speak and watches, really watches, how your mouth forms against the words. I like you too.

“As a companion? Or friend, at best? Is that what your ‘like’ refers to?” he asks, nervous in the face of your admission. It makes you smile, as he rambles slightly, and though his countenance is that of poise and grace, beneath he is a a boy of tender heart. Smiling, you grab the front of his thick coat lapel and watch his words die on his tongue as you place a feathery, warm and soft kiss against his mouth. It was so unbelievable, he thought he’d conjured it all up – that you weren’t here, timidly kissing him with a sheepish smile on your face, and the stars of his home glinting against your skin. He lets his finger brush your cheek, still dumb-struck.

“Again.” he whispers. His heart hammers at the sound of your breathy laugh, as you repeat the action, conviction in your palms as they lay upon his cheek, “Again, please.”

“Again?” you ask, voice soft and muted as he hoists you atop of his front, chest to chest, and gazing at him like he was everything. Within the action, your golden insignia brushes his own, silver ones so briefly that he can make out a shape bourne from the contact of either two, before they separate. You wanted him, as he wanted you. And soon, you would wed, and the image of gold upon silver won’t be so unclear anymore. Maybe, somewhere warmer and less unbelievable, he could let himself grow familiar with the reality of you. But for now, he could settle for this to be a mere dream he had grown to relish so very much. Even now, he could almost believe none of this to be real, just a trick of the mind. Maybe fatigue or delusion.

He says your name so quietly, a plea, and it has never sounded sweeter, “Please.”

And yet, the soft press of your mouth upon his convinces him that it is so much more.

i wanted to incorporate some inferences of paul’s character from the early novel (mentat, solitude in terms of companions, great fighter), as well as the film, whilst wanting to stray away from the destruction of house atreides after the gifting of arrakis, which would explain why the marriage needs to take place. sooo no one dies! HURRAH!!!!!!!!! enjoy :]

#paul x you #dune paul x you #paul atreides fic #paul atreides x you #paul atreides fanfic #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x y/n #dune x you #dune x reader #dune part two x reader

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oddeyecir-cle · 5 months

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✶ ˖ ࣪ 📹 . ぅ

lee donghyuck enemies to lovers fic ideas (all fics are haechan × reader)

haechan who is your rival coworker + secretly deadpool

for the sake of this story, lets assume deadpool does hide his identity. he works at a tech company and is constantly beefing with his coworker that he's lowkey attracted to. and the plot could maybe be something like you accidentally finding out his identity and then using that information to slightly/ kind of/ in a non-toxic way to blackmail him. eg: making him run errands for you, asking to tag along on his quests as deadpool. then the pair gets closer through all the time they spend together etc etc.

✶ note : hyuck HAS to be the sassiest, funniest, most sarcastic, cocky human being ever. also include some spidermark maybe

haechan as the prince of the neighbouring kingdom

historical au. very basic ik but hear me out. your kingdom's glory and power is gradually draining and it's threatened by multiple rivaling kingdoms. that is when your mother, the queen, tells you there is no choice but to turn to hyuck's kingdom for help. you hate the idea but you know everyone's counting on you so you go through with it anyways. (this is historical so there could be a very cool scene of the reader riding on a horse in battle armour to neighbouring kingdom's palace themself but whatever). they're good, kind people so they agree to help you. they send over a part of their military along with some weapons and of course haechan himself, their most prized possession who, like you, is skilled with a sword and is a wise leader. there's lots of quarrels between the both of you when it comes to the topic of which one has more power over the other and about who should be leading the troops. but you soon put your animosity aside when you realize that you have to work as a team to win. (insert dramatic battle sequence with swords and arrows flying around. at one point, you and haechan lock eyes and suddenly he drops to the ground. the world starts to blur around you when you realize he's been stabbed in his back. you frantically rush to his aid but he falls limp in your arms. its now upto the writer to kill him there itself and end the story. very angsty, i love. or they could also save him somehow and give main characters the happy ending they deserve).

✶ note : sloooooowwwww buuuurn. i mean this should be a long ass series with 7k+ words per chapter. should be so heavy on the angst and the hate that it makes you wonder if they do actually end up loving each other in the end. please include sword fighting scenes with sexual tension i beg you. (im big on bollywood, can u tell).

haechan as a stranger/ tour guide you meet on a family trip

you've just gotten out of a 3 year long relationship after your boyfriend cheated on you with your best friend. things get worse when your family, unaware of your breakup, forces you on a 2 week trip to *insert cute, small country" . here you meet the annoying, sarcastic, a-little-too-happy-for-his-own-good donghyuck. he is with the group your family is touring with (him being the tour guide is a pretty cute plot too but it could kind of complicate things later) and instantly wins everyone over with his charm, except you of course. in classic hyuck fashion, he tries to keep getting your attention and eventually succeeds. his company helps ease the pain of the heartbreak he didn't even know about. its bittersweet when it's time to part ways. you realise after you come back to your college dorm that you never exchanged phone numbers and you fail to find him on social media as well. but fate has strange ways of bringing people together. which is why you cant stop smiling when crash into a certain someone during a regular grocery run.

✶ note : more on the fluff and less on the angst for this one. and maybe a dash of slice of life as well.

haechan as captain of the football team.

there is no actual plot for this other than the fact that you're a cheerleader and also his academic rival (there is no trope i love more than this). my vision for this is very 2000s romcom. ik this isn't a lot to work with but there could be some sub trope like fake dating mostly.

✶ note: nothing much just make it cute

+i have a few more ideas, will probably make a part 2

++if in the future, by some miracle, people do find these interesting enough to use, please dont forget to credit me!!

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ilikepjo24 · 4 months

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Octavian is not the villain all of you make him out to be.

He's annoying. He slices open teddy bears to supposedly see the future. He's a rich boy (although we never actually see him brag about that). Out of context, he sounds like a demonic toddler. He's a blackmailer. He's a fucking asshole. But that's all.

Not trusting Percy? Perfectly normal. If all your life you were told that there's this group of people that you've been in war with ever since before the Roman Empire was a thing, that this group of people hates you with a burning passion and wants nothing more than to see your doom, that you've hurt and humiliated them and they've hurt you and humiliated you back, that they inferior to you in every way, and then a person from that group showed up at your doorstep, chased by monsters and started making friends with a suspicious looking guy that turned out being a spy and an undead person, would you trust them?

Personally, I wouldn't. Remember, the audience knows and loves Percy, but to a stranger Percy is a random, aggressive, powerful dude that causes chaos everywhere he goes and is the main suspect in multiple cases of terrorism. To Octavian, a person he knew and had worked with and might have enjoyed the presence of suddenly went missing, and then this troublesome, forbidden kid shows up and hangs out with a spy and a zombie. What reason could he possibly have to like Percy? How is he a villain for not trusting Percy? He's just being a freaking sane person dude.

Not go mention that Percy was also a forbidden child, one that typically everyone is wary of. And what does the greek forbidden child that causes chaos and develops friendships with spies and zombies do? He goes in one quest and is immediately granted the position that Octavian has wanted and has been working for for years, which happens to be the same position that Octavian's... Friend (?) had before he literally went missing. Doesn't it sound a bit suspicious when your powerful friend disappears, and a powerful potential enemy with questionable company shows up and steals your friend's job?

What luck, am I right? For a powerful enemy to show up as soon as there's a position of power open that needs to be filled by somebody who has power? Who's to say that Nico, who was later on proven to be a spy, wasn't send there by Percy? Who's to say Percy wasn't the one to kidnap and maybe even kill Jason, so that the position of the praetor would be open for him to take, and then allow Greeks into the camp so that they can destroy it and win this endless, centuries old war between Romans and Greeks?

And isn't that exactly what Percy ended up doing? He was granted praetorship, allowed Greeks into that camp on a heavily weaponed, flying warship, and they ended up blowing up part of the camp!

And what excuse do they give him for that? "This dude you don't know and don't trust and has built this warship got possessed by a ghost who we claim is rising but have no real, solid proof to support this claim. But she is rising and she did posses Leo, he didn't want to do it, he's a good guy that just happened to walk into your property with a huge weapon and blew up your house by accident. Despite all you've ever been taught about Greeks and despite that all the history books have told you about how much they hate you, and despite the extremely suspicious circumstances surrounding the situation, and despite blowing up your home, Greeks actually love you and want to work with you. Trust me bro." And this was coming from the dude that was friends with a literal spy that lied and kept secrets from everyone.

You know guys, you're right, I'm starting to see why all of you hate Octavian so much. He's being so unreasonable and overreacting over such small things. 😐 /sarcasm.

And then you were all upset that he gathered an army to go to war against the people that threw bombs in his house to defend himself.

Octavian was a dick, that's out of the question. He manipulated and blackmailed people. But the only thing he did that crossed the line of "dick" and entered "villain" territory was being the primary suspect for Gwen's murder. And she didn't even stay dead, so even that is not that bad.

This proven.

And for scientific reasons, I want to see if I actually convinced anyone.

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teambyler · 15 days

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"Byler Endgame, One Episode at a Time" - s5e4

Plot beats and scenes leading to a Byler endgame, one episode at a time, for Season 5 of Stranger Things. (This is just for fun! I have no insider knowledge!)

Also see Part 0, where I explain what I think a Byler Endgame has to address. Link to the previous episode.

s5e4

Will has a nightmare: it is November 1983 again and he is in the Upside Down. He’s in Castle Byers and gets captured by the Demogorgon. This time we see him get taken to the library and implanted. Will wakes up.*

It’s clear that Vecna is going after Will. When Mike sees him, he immediately senses something’s wrong. Will tells him.*

The party gathers at Hopper’s cabin. Will has a Walkman with “Should I Stay or Should I Go?” to try to fend off Vecna. They try to figure out what to do. The party needs to strike a blow against Vecna (something like a power source), but like in the s4 finale the vines and the hivemind are in the way. Will says he can be the distraction, just as Max was in s4. The group is mortified; Max insists: “No.” Will understands. The party discusses some other way to distract Vecna. Suddenly Will is targeted by Vecna again. Will is back in 1983 in the library and stuck to the wall. Vecna himself comes and says, “Will…” We cut to the group, Joyce is desperately pleading with Will to stay strong. We are not with Will as this all happens. El finds it in her power to piggyback by holding on to Will’s hand. For some reason, Will deliberately takes off the headphones. Joyce puts them back on as others hold down his arms so he doesn’t do it again. El backs off Vecna. Joyce takes a needle and sedates Will.

While Will sleeps, El plumbs into Will’s thoughts to find out what’s wrong. We see what Vecna was telling Will. Vecna wants Will’s powers and has always been trying to find a way to get them (since s1). He wants Will to give himself up, or else Vecna will kill people close to him, those he can reach, those who also have pain... "Like Max, like Mike..." Will reacts to Mike's name. Vecna knows and gives a sly smile. “Ah… you love your best friend?” Will protests. Cut to El, who suddenly sees Will's memories and that he is madly in love with Mike. (Flashbacks: Mike: “I said yes… It was the best thing I’ve ever done” [possessed Will desperately trying to break through] Mike: “It’s not my fault you don’t like girls” Will tearing the picture of him and Mike, Will’s pain when Mike told El “My life started the day I found you.”) El is in shock. Vecna sees through Will’s denials. “Michael will be the first, and you will watch... He will be in pain… If you give in, there will be no pain... There is nothing for you. Not Michael, no one. You will always be a monster to them. You can end it now…” Will then takes off the headphones. El realizes why he did it and leaves Will’s mind.

El reports to the group that Vecna is singularly focused on Will, and wants some power of his. (She leaves out Will’s feelings for Mike and Vecna’s threat to Mike.) The only way to distract Vecna enough for the party to be able to attack his power source, is for Will to offer himself again. Mike says absolutely not; there’s got to be another way. They come up with an alternate plan of setting a large fire to the vines, so that they can avoid putting Will in danger. Joyce and Jonathan stay with Will as the rest head out.

As the party gets there, the bullies get in the way, this time with weapons. Nancy and Steve came prepared with a gun and nailed bat, and together they teach them a lesson. Mike in particular goes after Bully #1. After the melee, Nancy has a gun trained on Bully #1. Mike gets in his face, “If you touch Will again, I’m gonna kill you.” Bully #1 is all contempt. “What? You're a f****t, too?” Nancy fires a warning shot. Bully #1 jumps up and lunges at her and knocks the pistol out of her hand. In the struggle Mike is all tears and rage. He picks up the gun and is about to shoot him. El whips the gun out of Mike’s hand, and Bully #1 gets away. Mike is shaking. El runs up and hugs him. She has a realization…

Meanwhile, the party has FAILED at their task: they have to use Will.

*In retrospect, I should have put these at the start of s1e1, as we were teased about the first scene and it could be exactly this!

FOLLOW ME for the next part of “Byler Endgame, One Episode at a Time”!

Part 0 (what a Byler endgame needs to address) Previous episode Next episode

(And read my blog! I say a lot about Byler!)

#byler #stranger things #byler endgame #fanfic #one episode at a time #speculation #st5 #st5 speculation #byler theory

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voxofthevoid · 9 months

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Kidnapping Wednesday #7! The last one too. I'm on the penultimate chapter, and the word count is at 109k. I don't think I'll finish the fic before next Wednesday, but I'd say this segment marks the end of what I can post without spoiling the ending.

I might do something a little different next Wednesday. If what I have in mind proves too ambitious, I'll probably post something from one of my written-but-unposted fics.

Thanks to those of you who've been following along! It's been fun seeing your reactions each week 💗

Now, time for some Nanami PoV!

There are people inside Kento’s apartment.

This would be concerning, seeing as the spare keys to the place are firmly within his own possession, but the cursed energy signature burning like cold fire beyond his front door is unfortunately familiar. That’s still concerning in its own way because there’s no salvaging a scenario in which Kento comes home on a damp Tuesday night after a mission that had him working overtime—distressingly common these days, with the recent influx of suspiciously strong cursed spirits—to find that Gojou Satoru has broken into his apartment.

The second person’s cursed energy is unfamiliar, and typically, Kento would have dismissed them out of hand. All other problems have a way of fading into the background when Gojou’s involved, for better or for worse. But the stranger is blazing as bright as Gojou, his cursed energy a veritable maelstrom. It’s not Okkotsu’s soul-numbingly eerie power, and as far as Kento’s aware, that boy is the only sorcerer alive whose cursed energy is on par with Gojou’s in terms of sheer volume. It’s more, even. But volume isn’t why Kento’s rooted to the spot, seized by the burning certainty that the narrow corridor he’s in has become a prison. The longer he stands there, the stronger that feeling grows, until the cursed energy he first registered as a footnote to Gojou’s worrisome presence threatens to take over his senses.

It’s more curse than human, this power.

Kento waits patiently for the minute trembles in his hand to stop before turning the key, his other hand wrapped securely around the handle of his blade.

The door clicks open; Gojou’s never needed to do something as mundane as pick a lock to enter places he shouldn’t. The genkan has acquired two new pairs of shoes, Gojou’s customary black ones and a pair of red sneakers.

Curse-like cursed energy aside, Gojou’s companion clearly has human feet. Kento relaxes his grip on his weapon slightly.

The intruders are on his couch, and they’ve helped themselves to the lights and the fan. And whatever Kento was expecting in those long few seconds outside his own door, it’s not this—Gojou’s long-limbed frame sprawled along the length of the couch, his head resting on the lap of a young man with unfamiliar features.

It’s the hair Kento notices first. Candy-pink spikes that are incongruous with the corrosive cursed energy radiating from him in great, heaving waves. It makes the inside of Kento’s apartment feel tight and small, like the walls are closing in. There are seals along said walls, ones Kento certainly didn’t place. Gojou’s signature is all over them, and at least that explains why he didn’t sense these two well before he got to his front door.

Then the stranger looks up, fixing Kento with a shuttered gaze that would have been fairly typical if it didn’t involve a total of four eyes, two half-open slits set under a pair of normal eyes.

Curse, he wonders, or sorcerer?

“Gojou Satoru,” Kento says, “explain yourself.”

“Nanami!” Gojou chirps, obscenely cheerful. He doesn’t get up from the couch or even move his head from the other man’s lap. “You look a little winded. Tough mission?”

“Do not make conversation after invading my home.”

“Hey, that’s such a hurtful way to—”

“Satoru,” the stranger interrupts, and he must know Gojou well because there’s hand on his mouth quieting him, but Nanami’s too stunned to be grateful, mostly at Gojou allowing the touch. What’s visible of his face between the silencing hand and the thick blindfold indicates he’s still grinning like a fool. “C’mon, get up. You’re making me seem rude.”

The hand is removed. Gojou only huffs.

“Now he’s polite,” he says before launching himself up and right off the couch, the stranger standing up at a far more sedate pace. “Alright, introductions then. Yuuji, meet Nanami Kento, former salaryman and current grade-one sorcerer! One of the best even.”

“You’ve told me,” the stranger—Yuuji—replies, and before Kento can process that, he bows, sharp and perfunctory but polite enough. “Nice to meet you, Nanami-san. My name’s Itadori Yuuji.”

Kento is a sorcerer. It’s in his nature to notice details. His tendency to remember certain things far beyond any reasonable use is a personal folly.

“Nice to meet you,” Kento repeats mechanically. And then— “Itadori Yuuji.”

The way Gojou’s grin sharpens, he knows precisely what connection Kento has made.

Itadori blinks at him; the two extra ones are a millisecond slower than his normal ones.

The Ryomen Sukuna of legends was a four-eyed, four-armed demon. The twenty cursed fingers still staining this world testify to the number of arms. It stands to reason the records got the eyes right as well.

“Gojou-san,” Kento asks softly, “what did you do?”

Gojou’s grin has him bracing for a flippant response, but what he says is, “Only what I had to.”

It’s quiet, firm. A tone that leaves no room for doubting or questioning.

Kento remembers the carefully contained uproar around the apparent execution of Sukuna’s vessel. He had to sub in for Gojou for nearly a month because Fushiguro Megumi refused point-blank to work with Gojou, and Gojou refused to force the issue, instead cashing in on a favor Nanami owed him. It left him fumbling with an emotionally repressed teenager whose outward apathy did nothing to hide his pain or his fury, but it took Nanami weeks to learn enough of what happened to understand the guilt underlying all of that.

Gojou and Fushiguro patched things up eventually, but the whole event served to cement the name Itadori Yuuji in Kento’s mind.

A fifteen-year-old sacrifice. Not even a sorcerer.

Perhaps Kento was never in danger of forgetting, but even if he’d managed to write off a child’s murder as a necessary evil, Fushiguro’s stilted account of a boy who leaped in fearlessly to save his friends, to save the stranger Fushiguro must have been to him, would have robbed him of that luxury.

But Fushiguro himself confirmed that Itadori chose to die. He heard the conversation firsthand. His fury with Gojou was for complying with Itadori’s request; no, his fury was with himself for the perceived weakness that led to Itadori swallowing that finger.

The whole time, did Gojou really—

“There was a body,” Kento says.

Surprisingly, Itadori is the one who replies: “Wasn’t me.”

Obviously.

Kento bites back that snappish response. “This is not two fingers’ worth of power. I’ll ask again—what did you do, Gojou-san?”

“It’s a long story,” Gojou admits, unconcerned from the airy tone to the slumped posture. “Why don’t we talk about it over dinner?”

“If you think I’m feeding you after—”

“Yuuji hasn’t had anything since lunch, you know. He wouldn’t let me raid your kitchen either. You wouldn’t make him starve, would you, Nanami?”

“Don’t drag me into this,” Itadori says, sighing. “It’s fine, Nanami-san. I’m not that hungry.”

“Nonsense!” Kento snaps. “It’s nearly ten. You need to eat.”

“Uh.” Itadori looks wildly over at Gojou, who’s turned his blindfolded eyes to the ceiling. “Okay? Thanks?”

Four eyes, all wide and wild and wary, like Itadori’s the wounded gazelle and the stalking lion both. It’s deeply uncomfortable to be on the receiving end of that look, but Kento only pries his hand away from his blade and mutters a command for them to join him in the kitchen. But he finds he can’t give his back to Itadori, making the two of them head into the kitchen ahead of him instead. Gojou must know the reason, but he doesn’t protest, and if Itadori does, he neither says nor shows nothing.

Kento regrets it anyway the moment he sees Gojou’s hand settle on the small of Itadori’s back, a tension Kento subconsciously noticed draining out of the boy.

Boy because Itadori, declared dead well over two years ago, was only fifteen then and can’t be more than seventeen now.

#goyuu #goyu #fic: every version of the story #jjk snippets #wip wednesday #my fic

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bestworstcase · 1 year

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"Salem is a faunus" like, literally? Not sure if you have any other posts on this angle of the whole Salem deal but I am fascinated by the assertion.

right so i have talked about this before but tumblr search being what it is and not having the wherewithal to trawl through my archive at the moment…

salem might not be a faunus in the, like, specific metaphysical sense—her and ozma’s daughters were human—but culturally, socially, in terms of how she’s perceived. she’s human-shaped but not human. she’s a human with non-human physical characteristics. if you put her in front of a complete stranger who knew nothing about her history or the conspiracy dedicated to fighting her, what would they think? how would they mentally categorize her? probably as a grimm faunus.

in ye olden times—during the lost fable days when faunus were being enslaved, locked in cages, and hunted like animals—grimm were thought to be the corrupted spirits of animals or else animals possessed by demons. the WOR episode on faunus symbolically positions the faunus as beings halfway between humans and grimm (& confirms that the cultural belief is that the existential conflict between humans and grimm does not encompass faunus, that faunus are seen as bystanders to this struggle at best)—equally at war with humans as with grimm. faunus, culturally, is a grimm-adjacent category. and if you look at what the WOR grimm episode says about how grimm have traditionally been understood, as corrupted animals, demonic animals, then, well, you can see how intuitively that maps onto faunus being grimm-adjacent. if a grimm is a corrupted animal, and a faunus is almost but not quite human because they have animal traits…

salem commanded dark powers in the wilds, among beasts and monsters. creatures known as faunus bore claws and fangs and were locked away in cages—like beasts. “beasts and monsters” meant “faunus and grimm.”

now consider the two faunus origin myths. in one, faunus are humans who chose to submerge themselves in magical waters in order to transform themselves, to the horror and outrage of those humans who did not; this myth specifically mentions the grimm three times for no other purpose than to say “put them out of your mind, they aren’t a problem in this story” and ends with the remark that humans hate faunus because faunus are a reminder of what humans “are not and can never be.” in the other, faunus are created when a stern god transforms two groups of warring animals and humans in order to teach them a lesson, and the newly-created faunus were then promptly blamed for leading the grimm to attack a human settlement and exiled forever from human society.

there was a time in history, long forgotten now, when salem had such a profound influence on faunus culture that echoes of it are still visible even today.

& then there’s the way the grimm are leveraged symbolically in the context of blake’s personal struggle with her faunus identity; she gazes miserably up at the statue of huntsmen in beacon’s courtyard, and then looks down, finding herself not in the heroes but in the grimm beneath their feet, and that’s what she’s feeling when she takes off the bow. that’s the pain being reclaimed when the white fang “dons the faces of monsters,” this is the cultural narrative being spoken to, that faunus are grimm-adjacent.

(i imagine this is part of why sienna was SO PISSED about the fall of beacon. taking that cultural narrative and refashioning it into a weapon, an indictment of those who believe in it, is one thing. actually bringing grimm into a population center and releasing them on crowds of defenseless civilians reifies the narrative, justifies those who believe in it.)

similarly ozma seems to believe that salem is personally responsible for orchestrating every grimm attack in history—just as the faunus in the myth are blamed for leading the grimm to attack humans. and the consequence of this and his fanatical determination to destroy her is that the grimm are largely the only community she has, so the perception becomes self-reinforcing. and then you have the reflection of salem’s isolation and exile in the kingdom of menagerie, an inhospitable island given to the faunus with the implicit intention of getting rid of them.

people tunnel-visioned on the hound having silver eyes but i think it’s equally important that he was a faunus. faunus are culturally grimm-adjacent, salem is for all intents and purpose a grimm faunus, salem either made a faunus into a grimm or made a grimm into a faunus. there’s some really interesting groundwork being laid down here.

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morninkim · 10 months

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Series Outline

Rise of the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers is a character design series/AU that aims to reimagine MMPR as an animated action/comedy series in the vein of Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Justice League Action and Steven Universe, while combining elements of several incarnations of the team and larger Power Rangers lore.

The story is split into three "seasons" that would consist of short episodic adventures and longer, more story driven episodes that push forward an overarching plot. Each season would feature a different antagonist and grow the threat with each one as the Power Rangers get used to and grow into their role as superheroes.

Details all under the read more if you're interested!!

Season 1

Season 1 would feature Goldar, Squatt and Baboo as main antagonists, following themes of new friendships and the coming together of the team. The Rangers start the story mostly as strangers, but would become a close-knit group of friends by the end, willing to put their lives on the line for each other.

Introduced early on as supporting characters would be Grace and Tommy Oliver, a mother and her daughter. The two of them would serve as an in with the NASADA associated science team at Promethea Base and the non-Ranger civilians in Angel Grove.

The culmination of this development and personal focus episodes for each Ranger would be the summoning of their respective Power Weapon, ending the season with a fight against the newly released dark spirit of Rita Repulsa, who then takes possession of the team's friend Tommy Oliver, leading into Season 2.

Season 2

Season 2 would see the introduction of Zordon and focus on the Rangers' struggle against Rita as she uses Tommy's body to enact her evil, eventually claiming the missing Green Power Coin to become a Dark Green Ranger and wreak havoc with the Dragonzord.

During this, Zordon would pass on the story of his original chosen team, how he forged the Power Coins from a Zeo Crystal, as well as knowledge of the Zords.

The theme of this season would be maintaining bonds and being there for your friends when they need you, culminating in the Rangers being able to summon their Zords and combine into the Megazord to defeat the Dragonzord. A ground battle would then see them free Tommy from Rita's possession by appealing to her directly, allowing Tommy to break it and exorcise Rita from her body.

Rita's spirit would then use what little remaining power she had gathered to resurrect Lord Zedd. As a "reward", Zedd steals her essence to sustain himself, absorbing her and all knowledge of the Rangers she had attained from being in Tommy's body.

Having discovered the Rangers' identities toward the climax, as well as Tommy's new identity as the Green Ranger, Grace would resign from her position at NASADA. However, she would still pay visits to the now ruined and cordoned off Promethea Base to work on a project she'd managed to keep hidden...

Season 3

Season 3 would then pick up a few months later and start with a short mini-arc where the Rangers are joined by the Masked Rider from Edenoi, Prince Dex. His darker attitude and angsty brooding catches everyone's attention and admiration, but Tommy develops a sense of inferiority for a time, feeling replaced by the "cooler" new guy. Her friends are able to pull her out of it again by assuring her that she won't and can't be replaced, and they love her the way she is.

The second half of the Season would then see the Rangers' personal lives messed with from the shadows by Lord Zedd, who takes the form of a shadow influencing Angel Grove as he grows in strength. Their insecurities preyed on and their bonds tested, the Rangers will have to trust each other more than they've ever had to before to defeat the Evil Empire once and for all.

In the midst of this, it would be revealed that Zedd and Zordon are brothers. In a sense. Two halves of a single being, the Morphin Master, who was split in two when he came into contact with a powerful Zeo Crystal that had shattered. The same Crystal that Zordon forged the Power Coins from, while a seventh shard was laid into Zedd's staff. Zordon, a White Light representing Free Will, Creation and Light, chose to allow heroes to choose their own destinies and do good on their own terms, splitting his light spectrum into six colors to empower them. Zedd, a Dark Specter representing Control, Destruction and Darkness, controlled and pulled the strings behind those who would seek to do harm across the Universe, his followers establishing the Empire of Evil.

For a time following Dex's departure, the Rangers would be aided by a mysterious Phantom Ranger in some battles. This ally would be revealed to be Grace, using a self-made morpher she'd engineered from recovered alien tech to keep her daughter safe, putting her "leave the world saving to those who are actually qualified" in practice. Zedd, seizing the opportunity when presented, wrests the Phantom Morpher from Grace's grip and uses it to regain his physical body.

A final battle would see the Rangers combining the full spectrum of their powers to harness the Light as a team of White Rangers to destroy Zedd for good.

An epilogue would then see Zack, Jason and Trini graduate from Angel Grove High and moving on to College. Tommy, Billy and Kimberly recruit freshmen Adam, Rocky and Aisha as the new members of the team and continue the fight against evil as the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers.

Unplaced Story Arcs (little plots that would happen, but might not have a definitive place just yet, mix of funny bits and more character-driven bits)

Kim's parents get divorced, Trini supporting her and helping her through it with her own experience with her parents' separation. The girls go on a short trip to stay with Trini's dad for the weekend so Kim can get away from everything for a bit. She neglects to tell her parents and they naturally get super worried. Ends with Kim's parents assuring her that their separation doesn't change the fact that they love her. Kim and Trini are besties.

A loose Footloose parody episode where dancing is banned at AGHS, where Zack tries to get it unbanned by directly approaching Principal Caplan as the Black Ranger (which fails because he starts to unmorph in the middle of it, since he's trying to use his powers for personal gain) - eventually it's unbanned when the Rangers defeat Pumpkin Rapper at the school's Halloween Party by following Zack's lead and using Hip Hop Kido.

Tommy joins the Football team, but feels insecure and doesn't perform as well as she knows she can because she feels self conscious indulging in "masculine" interests as a trans girl. Zack assures her that she's not less of a girl for doing "guy" stuff and confides in her that he's a trans guy, he just hasn't been open about it since starting High School. The two of them wear trans flag colored face paint during a major game to support each other. And they win!

Jason somehow gets it in his head that Trini likes him (dumb teen stuff, maybe he reads a thing about girls laughing at your jokes when they like you and Trini laughs at him a little bit after so he goes OH she must like me :) ) and decides to ask her on dates because he thinks it'll make her happy, since she's been kinda gloomy lately. Wacky shenanigans happen where Trini thinks that he likes her and goes along with it so she doesn't hurt his feelings. Ends in Jason being the second person ever that Trini comes out as gay too, with the rest of the team following shortly after. Immediately they take the opportunity to tease her about her crush on Richie.

Tommy and Kim struggle to go on dates, always getting interrupted by Power Ranger business. For a second they consider just not dating until they've saved the world, but the others talk them out of it. Ends in them having a movie date where Tommy sets up a projector in the Command Center, but they do end up having to watch it with Zordon and Alpha.

Billy and Trini bonding episode!! Smart kids!! They realise that they're both struggling with classes the other does really well at and decide to help each other out, while Trini also helps Billy be more confident at fighting. Probably happens early on.

Jason and Zack give Billy the rundown on public High School, helping him get used to the whole deal and try to get him involved in some extra-curriculars. Funny bits where he's not good at Football, he's not good at Gymnastics (despite Kim's best efforts), he's good at Chess Club (but no one else is), he's too good at Shop, etc, etc. He ends up joining all the clubs the others are in, even if he isn't good at the activity, because they're his friends and he likes being around them regardless of what they do.

#rotmmpr #power rangers au #power rangers #mighty morphin power rangers #power rangers 2017 #mmpr #my writing #this is so long and most of it off the dome so sorry if it there are bits that don't make a lot of sense!!#its also a lil still being worked out so some plot points could change or be adjusted a lil bit #also while there's no new art - there ARE some new characters mentioned that i WILL be designing at some point soon #once again all designs and stuff are under my 'rotmmpr' tag + the masterpost is pinned to my blog :) !

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girlwithwolftatoo · 1 year

Text

Devourer of Hearts 3/3

Warnings: weapons

In other times, getting into the museum vault would have been easy, but that was when there were enough cult members working for Harrow. Now it was just you, you and a power that you didn't quite understand and that managed you as if you were a puppet. At least, you thought, there was some guarantee that your life and above all, Arthur's, were safe.

And he would be safer so when the ritual was complete.

"Good night" you bid your companions farewell as you finished, supposedly, taking inventory. Actually, working in the gift store at the Egyptian Gallery was fun, mostly because most of the time you didn't have to be at your post and you got to wander the halls, hauling boxes of goods to the storage, being invisible while you gathered all the information you needed for your little heist.

The main lights went out, and that gave you the signal to leave the storage and slip into the vaults that held the items that were not on display, were being repaired or were too delicate to be shown to the public. You had a master key, you had obtained it from days before with great discretion and tested it on locks and padlocks to which you had access.

Your heart skipped a beat when the lock gave way. You closed your eyes for a moment, thinking to yourself that it was for the best, you weren't hurting anyone, you just wanted to help a poor man who had already suffered too much....

Most of the papyri were kept in special plates that kept them in their best possible condition, identifying the right one was the hard part, because the way the museum registered them was not practical for the eyes of a stranger, so, when you were in front of the huge drawers, you put both hands to your chest.

"I am here" you whispered in the ancient tongue. Ammit could not possess you as he did Arthur, but you heard his voice in his head, you noticed something strange at the back of your mind that grew heavy each time he made his presence known.

"The one on your left, two up" indicated the slow, low voice of the goddess. You employed the master key again, a series of plates identified by numerical series appeared before you and, with extreme care, you pulled out one after the other.

"How do you say it begins?" you asked, confused. Those papyri did not, as a rule, have hieroglyphs, instead a most curious writing that reminded you of modern Arabic took up almost the entire sheet, with barely a small margin and no punctuation marks.

"Hurry up, we don't want unexpected visitors."

"I'm sorry, I can't read this language."

"Hmmm..." your eyes flicked over the pages meaningless to you, nervously, and then when you had about six or seven plates on the desk, Ammit muttered in your head, excited:

"There!"

Just by looking at it, you understood that this was a special object. It was not just words that covered the papyrus, but some cartouches, hieroglyphs enclosed in circles, indicating names of gods and kings, and what was more, at the end was printed a miniature drawing of the fearsome goddess. After carefully setting the papyrus aside, you put the rest away, and as you were leaving, Ammit's voice blurted out:

"What on earth are you doing? Break the plate!"

"How?" you jumped, startled.

"It's stupid to go out with it in that obvious way! You must get it out of the glass!"

"But..." however much you sought to convince yourself of the greater good behind the theft, destruction of property seemed to you to be taking things too far already. Ammit clearly didn't feel the same way.

"Slam it to the ground, now!"

There was no choice. Apprehensive, you dropped it, and the clatter of the delicate protective glass shattering caused you to startle. You bent down carefully to pick up the papyrus, and retracted your hand hurriedly, painfully, when a shard of glass stuck in your palm. There were some worn pieces of paper, broken many, many years ago, but the rest was intact, and you were fascinated by the hard but supple texture of the object.

“It’s so beautiful…”

You folded it very carefully, fearing it was going to tear, and tucked it under your blouse before hurrying off, trying not to let your guilt show as you pretended to the night guard that you had just left the store's storage room. Anyway, you thought with some regret, you weren't planning to show up for work anymore.

As you walked, the weight of anguish disappeared from your chest, no one was following you and therefore you were safe. You smiled inwardly, when you got home you would show the papyrus to Arthur, and then the ritual would be complete, he would be free and you would share the hard burden the goddess had imposed on him with him. And then... you could have a different life, a happier one, one where paradise required only the two of you and the little home you would form.

London was not at rest, and it was not unusual to see cars at that time of night, though a white limousine was indeed peculiar, more so when it began to slow down passing you. The pilot window opened and from inside, the chauffeur addressed you with a:

"Good evening, señorita."

Curiosity led you to turn your head, the man in the limo had a puzzled expression, he was smiling, but his eyes were dark, menacing. Your heart squeezed, uncomfortable, his face looked familiar.

"Excuse me, do I know you?" you asked. His neck stretched slightly out of the car, his eyes going from your face to somewhere next to your hands. "Sir?"

He smiled again, it seemed to you that one of his eyes looked strange, as if the iris was a different color, an impossible one.

"Perdone, señorita, perhaps I mistook you for someone else" he replied "I thought I had seen you before with an acquaintance of mine, his name is Arthur Harrow."

You frowned, uneasy. You met many people in the London commune and you knew that Arthur had more followers all over the world, but this particular man you didn't remember. And yet he had mentioned his name with great certainty, and that worried you.

"Well, I..." your nerves began to betray you, your instinct was asking you to run away, but you took too long to react, and the co-pilot's door was opened by the stranger, who took the opportunity to approach you "What do you want?" you jumped, taking a step back.

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you" he extended in front of you both open hands, as a sign of peace "You have nothing to worry about, I would just like to know where I can find Harrow, it seems to me that you know".

You hugged your body, and felt the papyrus against your skin.

"What's holding you up?" the voice of Ammit caused you to gasp, and the man in the limo had moved so slowly that you didn't notice him until he was almost upon you.

"I don't know who you're talking about" you groaned "Please leave me alone."

The man bent down a little to be at your level. Yes, you could tell now, his left iris was blood red.

"I think you do know, bonita" he whispered. He had stopped smiling, and panic set in.

You broke into a run, but within a few steps a hand caught your arm. You screamed, frightened, but the man pulled you back and gagged you with his free hand, pushing you into the limo. You kicked, raging, trying to defend yourself, but he didn't care and slammed the door shut and headed for the driver's seat; as soon as he got in you tried to pounce on him, unsure of how to act, but he simply held you back and pushed you again so hard that your back slammed against the door.

A gun was pointed between your eyes, and that alone stopped all your attempts to fight back.

"I don't want to hurt you" he repeated as he sat up and started the car "If I shoot you I'll lose Harrow, now..." he placed the gun on the dashboard so that you couldn't reach it "Let's go for a ride, shall we?"

Cowering against the seat, you watched the limo glide through the streets at some speed, and the man had turned on the music player.

"My name is Jake" he introduced himself, smiling at you "What's your name?" you didn't answer, you looked at him with a mixture of fear and curiosity, he for his part didn't take your silence badly "Whatever you want, I'll call you bonita, the truth you are" he added looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

"If you open your mouth I swear I'll tear your eyes out" growled Ammit's voice in your head. But this time it didn't sound imperious, more tense. Who exactly was this man who was scaring the goddess like that?

"I'll be honest with you, I've spent a week following you" Jake continued "But I can't do it all the time, you know? They'd find out and..." he let out a chuckle "pues todo se iría a la chingada"

"They?" you muttered.

"Sí, sí" the man consulted his watch and whistled under his breath "I haven't much time, would you be so kind as to tell me where Arthur Harrow is?"

"Why do you think I know him?"

Jake shook his head, a little smile playing on his lips.

"Someone told me, that a girl had been looking for him to take him from the place where the others left him. They didn't want to tell me, but I persuaded them" he added as if that would make you feel better.

"You're right, sir, but... I don't know where he is either."

"You don't? Hey..." they had stopped in front of a traffic light, his hand caught your right arm and, with the other, he pulled up the sleeve of your blouse.

"What are you doing?"

He checked your arm from side to side, and cocked his head to the side.

"I see" a finger stroked the skin of your forearm, the feel of the leather of the gloves he wore gave you shivers "And... why would a pretty young girl like you seek out that old fool?"

"Arthur Harrow helped me. I was homeless, living in shelters, stealing to eat, and he offered me a home and a family. I don't know who you think he is, but I assure you he's a fair and good man."

"Really?" Jake laughed again "And did you know the son of a bitch was planning to kill millions of people?"

"Don't call him that."

"I call him whatever I want, bonita, because your Saint Arthur was a madman, and your so-called family a cult of murderers"

"Shut up!" you shouted without thinking, anger that didn't belong to you permeating your voice. Jake squinted, not seeming frightened by your sudden rage.

"What were you doing pretending to work at the gallery?" he asked you nonchalantly. You remained silent, glaring at him "You better tell me, gorgeous, you think I'm afraid to get the truth out of you just because you're a woman?"

For a second or two, you thought you saw someone else in the limo, someone who, from the back seat, was leaning over Jake as if to whisper something to him, someone who had not a human head but a bird skull perhaps. The man's eyes lit up, and he drove into a nearby alley, where he turned the car off.

Jake's hands clutched like claws at your shoulders and pushed you back against the seat, positioning himself over you to prevent any struggle on your part.

"Let me go!" you shrieked, and he held your wrists with one hand while, with the other, he lifted your blouse. The papyrus fell to the floor, and Jake picked it up.

"What's this, bonita?" he asked, waving it in front of you. A cavernous voice you couldn't hear gave him the answer, and he repeated it, "The Abydos papyrus? Is that it? What were you and Harrow trying to do with this thing?"

Since you didn't answer, Jake fixed his eyes on the gun he left in front of the steering wheel, but as he reached out to take it he caught a glimpse of its reflection in the rearview mirror. He thought about them, how horrified they ended up whenever they managed to recover the body after one of their little massacres, and while it amused him to hear them debate about what or who was to blame, just now he wasn't tempted to soil the beautiful finishes of the limo with blood.

"If you want to don't tell me" he agreed at last, holding you by the cheeks with his free hand "But understand one thing, I'm going to follow you, I'm going to find out where Harrow is, and when I find him..."

"Don't be playing games, Lockley!" snapped the cavernous voice in his head, like Ammit's was doing with you "Make her take you to him!"

Jake snorted. He couldn't remember exactly how many of Ammit's followers he'd murdered over the past few weeks, and truth be told he sometimes didn't even notice their faces. How strange it was to have you there, young and brave, vulnerable and scared, when he knew he could just snap your neck and force Harrow out of hiding.

"I don't want to hurt you" he said, not just to you "You don't look like them."

"Who are you talking about?"

"Their damned followers, their fanatical criminals."

"Are you kidding me?" growled the voice of the moon god, but Jake ignored it. With his teeth he removed the gauntlet from his free hand, and stroked your cheek with one finger, as your chest rose and fell in heaving breaths. You begged Ammit for help, but she had warned you, if you got into trouble she wouldn't be able to save you, the ritual wasn't even started, your plans had been thwarted, Arthur would have to continue to suffer, at least until that strange man found him.

Those thoughts brought tears to your eyes. Jake softened his expression.

"Shhhh, no, don't cry" he picked up a tear with his finger, and in front of you he brought it to his mouth and licked the trembling droplet "Eres tan bonita..."

He touched the tip of your nose with a playful gesture, then rested the tip of his finger on your lips, sliding it slowly down to your chin, tracing your jaw and throat, down to your chest, where your heartbeat had quickened, out of fear or the way he treated you? Enemy, that's what he was, but there was something charming about him, something alluring, and you blushed with embarrassment because you feared you were suddenly lusting after some other man than Arthur.

"Hey" he whispered, leaning down to speak in your ear "Let's do this, shall we? Just tell me where Harrow is and I'll let you go, he'll never know I forced you to tell me."

"Don't negotiate with her, Lockley!" ordered Khonshu again.

"If you tell him I'm going to kill you!" exclaimed Ammit in your head, too weak to hear her properly.

"No... I'm not going to tell you" you replied at last, trembling with fearful anticipation "If I tell you, you're going to kill him, aren't you?"

Jake nodded.

"And... if I don't tell you... you're going to kill me."

"I don't have to. You're not a follower of his, you don't have the mark."

Your crying redoubled.

"You're wrong."

"What?" he jumped.

"Her chest...look at her chest" Khonshu ordered. Jake lifted your blouse a little more, exposing your chest, and then saw the obnoxious scale tattoo on it.

"Carajo" he spat, laughing bitterly. "And why do you have it there, huh? Everyone was wearing it on their arm, what does it mean?"

"I don't think it matters much, because you're going to kill me anyway, aren't you?"

Yes. That's just what I was going to do, he thought despondently. Why was he having such a hard time finishing his job? You were just another pawn, a clever one, but who was now at his mercy, helpless, without you Arthur would be left without help and then, it was only a matter of time before he was finished with him too.

"Fuck, girl..." he growled "Why do you make everything so difficult, why are you still with him?"

"Because I love him."

Your answer was completely unexpected, and Jake balled his fist. He was right after all, you weren't just a brainwashed follower.

"Let's get this over with" Khonshu spat, and again you seemed to see him, very briefly, speaking to Jake from the back of the limo.

"Yeah... it'll be for the best" Jake replied, and reached out again to grab his revolver. You closed your eyes still crying, shaken, thinking that at least the man would be done with you soon.

"Someone like him doesn't deserve your love" he spat. The barrel of the gun approached your temple, without touching you. He pulled the trigger, and you heard the gun click, however, there was no detonation, and Jake threw it back on the dashboard "Nor does he deserve someone like you to die for him."

Jake held your head in his hands and then, you felt a loud crash that plunged you into darkness. The last thing you seemed to perceive were two voices, one Ammit's, sounding furious, and another equally powerful but exhausted, old, one that seemed to be addressing Jake:

"So...your night is just beginning, is it?"

#moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #arthur harrow #arthur harrow x reader #jake lockleyl #fanfiction #ammit #khonshu

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sacaeblade · 9 months

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@twistedisciple asked:

The Lady of the Plains. Emblem of Blazing. Lyn, but that name had to be wrested from the recesses of memory, hidden beneath the epithet "Ponytail Chick" he'd mentally used instead. Griss hadn't been much acquainted with her. Even as he played his role as one of a greedy king's hounds, the glimpses of the man's prized possession were few and far between, and such occasions had the man clutching his ring like the very wind would steal her away. Truthfully, Griss is surprised by the color of her hair first when he catches a glimpse of her on the deck. It's the verdant hue of what he imagined the plains of her title might have been, the scent of grass all but real, not the blood red Lord Sombron blessed his Emblems with instead. And then comes the surprise that he'd recognized her at all among the crowd, all things considered, but the eye had a habit of finding the familiar in a sea of not. That she hails from their destination is the final piece, buried even deeper than her name, tugged out of some dusty old history book during his younger years in the monastery. In other words, recognizing her meant he had an opportunity to shake some valuable information out if the others hadn't already wrung her dry. When her allies finally leave her, Griss pushes off from the mast he'd been leaning against, watching her not-so-subtly for a good while now, and calls out to her to stop: "Not so fast, Ponytail. What're you in a hurry for?" His leisurely stride sets the pace as he comes up alongside her with a smile that is, for all of his (mostly) innocent intentions, still just a little bit too wide to be without threat. "I got some questions for you." Like if she could summon doubles here too and maybe they could test each of their blades on him-- No. "I wanna know what's up with your homeland and dragons. You think we're really about to walk right into a war 'cause they're scared of the sight of 'em?"

A year and some change is not an insignificant amount of time away from home. Even before touching ground, there are many things to be done, preparations to be had, people to discuss with, including people she didn't even realize she needed to discuss with.

"It's not Ponytail, it's Lyn," she corrects with a tinge of irritation. The rude way he calls out to her and the wolfish grin on his face are enough to make the hair on the back of her neck stand up straight. She is no stranger to the stares of men, but this...is different. "I'm busy right now, so—"

The question he poses is not one of further harassment, as she expected, but a fairly reasonable one about the state of affairs. Lyn stops in her tracks.

"My homeland?" she asks, parroting his words back. He must be a foreigner, then, to not know about The Scouring and what it meant.

"It's more than just simple fear," Lyn explains. "A thousand years ago, humans and dragons fought against each other in a war called The Scouring. At some point, the dragons began to multiply rapidly, far faster than the humans could kill them and their great power caused the Ending Winter. Snow fell in summer. The Eight Legends forged legendary weapons that would allow them to fight back against the dragons. Mulagir, the bow of Hanon" —Lyn gestures at the bow strapped to her back— "is one of those weapons. The dragons fled from the world through something called The Dragon's Gate and the Eight Legends went on to found the different nations."

If ancient history were all it were, then they would not be hurrying home like this. Even a few years ago, it would have been easy to write off the rumors as just rumors, but having seen the might of dragons with her own eyes, Lyn feels her pulse quicken just at the thought.

"A few years ago, the gate was opened again and we were able to defeat the dragons that made their way out with the help of two of the Legends, but... it had only been a few dragons and the Legends are no longer with us. The gate should have been sealed again, but..." Lyn shakes her head, banishing the thought. "Either way, I believe that humans can come to live with dragons, but this is not a commonly held sentiment."

#toasabbamvitatham2023 #⚔️ ic #twistedisciple #⚔️ support: griss #//preemptively moving this to a new post #//apologies griss for the lore dump and massive post

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toxicruins101 · 2 years

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"Oh god" dax Enfinitys college au x my dsmp ocs

CROSSOVER

@dax-enfinity

'well today could have gone better' I think to myself as I let myself wonder among the giant halls of my castle

It's old but gracious

I pick up a few books and head down to the dance room, I'm called dancing death for a reason aren't I?

"Death! There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!" laureen, half human half God, long story.

"yes? What is it?" I say a bit concerned, I've never seen her act like this before

"I think we may have a problem" soon enough we went into the meeting room everyone was already there,

By everyone she meant Noah: crazy scientist half demon, don't mess with him, a total physco

Tarot: a literal God very kind though

Night: the bringer of fire and chaos that has a soft spot for nature and animals

Laureen (duh): loves mythology and everything about it, possessed by a God (sometimes)

Alex: hunter of the shadows, normal human, distant relative, has anger issues.

I quickly got worried and say down the last time we had a meeting like this it didn't end well

"so, what happened?" I said looking at everyone

Noah stood up and pulled out a hologram

It looked like a portal, a active one

"we suspect that in less than an hour a portal like this will be appearing somewhere in the castle, it seems it will bring something strong or powerful so we need to be on lookout." said Alex explaining the floating image infront of them

"Ohhh~ imagine the data we could collect, it sounds amazing-" Noah was saying but got cut off by a loud BANG!

everyone stood up and headed towards the sound

I got my daggers out, Noah transformed in his demon self, tarot did some kind of spell, laureen let her godside take over and her eyes were now a bloody shining red with sharp teeth, night set fire on his hands and Alex got her bow and arrow out pointing it at the source of the sound

We all just stood there our guard still up as we all glared at the space where shadows took over, waiting.

"alright enough of this!" said the God side of laureen and launched herself at the shadows hitting something.

It looked like a boy, he has brown hair and a mask on his face, he had blocked laureens strike with an axe which was slowly bending at laureens hit since again she is a god right now.

There seemed to be more people behind him

Death quickly remembered one of the spells on her book and recited it under her breath her eyes turned a bright purple and she lookee straight at them

INFO:

Name: Toby

Occupation: slendermans proxy

Power: enhanced senses

INFO:

Name: Nico

Occupation: hades son

Powers: shadowtravel, communicating with the dead, earthquakes

INFO:

Name: Leo

Occupation: son of haphasteus, mecanic

Power: fire

INFO:

Name: Natalie

Occupation: Creepypasta/killer

Powers: none

INFO:

Name: will

Occupation: Doctor

Powers: healing and music

INFO:

Name: Dave

Occupation:????

Powers:????

Her eyes turned to brown again and she looked at them then at her team who still had their guard up while laureen came back to the group after attacking one of them

She signaled them to stand down and everybody put their weapons down or turned into their normal selfs

"it's okay we won't hurt you, Toby I'm sorry about your axe, if you let us take a look at it I'm sure we can fix it" said death with a sturdy tone and voice to calm them down yet it only seemed to spike their anxiety even more

"How do you know who we are?!" spoke the stranger now known as nico.

"I have have a ability to know that but I can assure you if you do not harm us we will not harm you" I said but I was not quick enough as I though as I said that a blade was thrown at us by one of them I doged but Noah, who was behind me, didn't get so lucky.

He looked down at his now heeling stomach and pulled out the blade his blood a deep black color

He look at the group infront of him as his eyes turned red and a shadow consumed half his body

"NOAH! DON'T-" screamed Alex but she wasn't quick enough as the shadow completely covered Noah and in the split second she blinked Noah was in a fight with the killer Natalie.

The others plus me ran to get Noah off her but were stopped by the others

I signaled at tarot and felt their voice echo on my head after a second

'their weary and a but scared, they don't know where they are and who you guys are, they can be very hostile so proceed with caution especially after this.' tarots godly voice echoed around in their head and they nodded.

I have to break this up, now.

Quickly I made a shadow portal and stepped in the middle of the fight grabbing Noah by the waist pulling him off Natalie.

"I'm terribly sorry for his behavior, my names dancing death, pleasure to meet you" I said bowing a bit at the end of my sentence

"what's your real name?" said Leo

"Athena" I said, I know I have the name of a Greek goddess, yet we're nothing alike, people tend to make that assumption when I tell them my real name

Yet some of them looked shocked at that

People were suprised but never shocked

Hmm how curious.

"please lower your weapons, we know you don't mean any harm" said night extinguishing the flames he had.

"how could you know that?" said the killer Toby

"if you did" said Alex

"you'd be long gone" finished laureen

It's true, even though they probably couldn't kill them

They could certainly harm them

And we knew they could too

That's why it's better for all of us to calm down

They all seemed to calm down and we all just started at the other

As if we were slowly figuring out who the other was

"please follow me" I said as Noah led the way to the main common room

"so, who are you exactly?" I said as I sat down

"why should we tell you?" said will

"ok, I'll go first then" I already intreduced myself but for the formalities

"I'm the dancing death or death whichever is fine"

"the blonde guy who attacked one of you is called Noah, he's a scientist"

"the tall platinum haired person is called tarot their a god"

"the black haired boy is called night, he has the gift or fire and destruction"

"the light brown haired girl is called laureen, she's half God half human long story"

"and last but not least that's Alex a regular human that has an enchanted bow"

Signaling to the person I'm talking about whenever I start a new presentation

"are you willing to tell us your names now?"

They all stayed quiet and looked at the floor

"Alright then."

Well not the reaction I was expecting but I can't say I'm suprised

"well this has been lovely but sadly we can't just have you waltzing about in here,

Who know maybe you'll tell someone our location

Or our identities" said night standing his eyes a bright red

All of them looked shocked for a second

But only for one, they got to their feet and got on guard

"the quitest guests we've had in a while" said Noah

"I'm sorry it had to end like this" I said as I pulled out a giant scythe and my eyes turned purple as shadows surrounded me and then covered everything around us

Noah went ahead and attacked the guy named Will and the rest of us soon followed each targeting one of them

Me and nico

Toby and Noah

Night and Leo

Alex and Natalie

Tarot and Dave

Laureen and Will

They were powerful to say the least

They put up a good fight

All of them

Time passed and passed and all that could be hard was the sound of magic wooshing together and the sound of weapons being hit together

Soon a portal appeared behind them with a quick flashing light.

When we opened our eyes nothing was left but some ahshes in the air

I took down the shadows and started at everyone

"I really hope that won't come back to bite us in the ass" said Alex beside me

My mind suddenly flashed with all the opportunities that could happen now that we let MULTIPLE people go

"Oh god" I said outloud

#fanfic #writing #dsmp fic #dsmp lore #friends #percy jackson #creepypasta #crossover #Nico #Toby #Natalie #Will #Dave #ocs #au #violence #percy jackson fic #wtf lmao #slayyyyy #pov

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libertariantaoist · 2 years

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DAILY SELECTIONS FROM LAO-TZU’S TAO TE CHING — JULY 6, 2022

“In ancient times the perfect officer wasn’t armed the perfect warrior wasn’t angry the perfect victor wasn’t hostile the perfect commander acted humble this is the virtue of non-aggression this is using the strength of others this is uniting with Heaven which was the ancient end” -Lao-tzu- (Taoteching, verse 68, translation by Red Pine CHIAO HUNG says, “In ancient times, officers went into battle in chariots. They were dressed in mail, and there were three to a vehicle: one on the left armed with a bow, one on the right armed with a spear, and one in the middle in charge of the reins, the flag, and the drum. Below and arrayed around every chariot were seventy-two foot soldiers.” SUN-TZU says, “A ruler must not mobilize his armies in anger. A general must not engage the enemy in wrath. Anger can turn to joy, and wrath can turn to gladness. But once a state is destroyed, it cannot be restored. And once a person is dead, he cannot be reborn” (Suntzu Pingfa: 12.18-21). Sun-tzu also says, “To win every battle is not supreme excellence. Supreme excellence is to conquer without fighting” (3.2). HO-SHANG KUNG says, “Those who honor the Way and Virtue are not fond of weapons. They keep hatred from their hearts. They eliminate disaster before it arises. They are angered by nothing. They use kindness among neighbors and virtue among strangers. They conquer their enemies without fighting and command through humility.” LIEH-TZU says, “Those who govern others with worthiness never win them over. Those who serve others with worthiness never fail to gain their support” (Liehtzu: 6.3). WANG CHEN says, “You must first win others’ hearts before you can command them.” KUMARAJIVA says, “Empty your body and mind. No one can fight against nothing.” WU CH’ENG says, “Even though our wisdom and power might surpass that of others, we should act as if we possessed neither. By making ourselves lower than others, we can use their wisdom and power as our own. Thus, we can win without taking up arms, without getting angry, and without making enemies. By using the virtue of nonaggression and the power of others, we are like Heaven, which overcomes without fighting and which reaches its goal without moving.” TZU-SSU says, “Wide and deep, they are able to support others. High and bright, they are able to protect others. Those who are wide and deep unite with earth. Those who are high and bright unite with Heaven” (Chungyung: 26.4-5). TE-CH’ING says, “Heaven is yang and Earth is yin. But if Heaven and Earth remain stationary, everything stops, and nothing comes into existence. Only when yang descends and yin arises does everything flourish. Thus, heaven’s position is to be above, but its function is to descend. When sages are above the people, and their hearts are below, we call this uniting with Heaven. This was the polestar of ancient rulers.”

#libertariantaoist #lao-tzu #tao te ching #red pine

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missfieryheart · 2 years

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STRANGER THINGS HOPEFULLY FUTURE SPOILERS

Here’s my hopes/thoughts on season FIVE, where in the end of season 4 Eddie made a Jon Snow (and that’s why the others aren’t so devastated)

~~~

Since he grew up with his uncle, he doesn’t remember much from his childhood. Other than the kids bullied him with his buzz cut hair and the weird 010 tattoo on his wrist, he began growing out his hair and always wore a watch from then on out.

Come High School, his drug use makes his brain muddled and his “curse” dampen. It freaked him out to begin with, made him think he was loosing his mind. His cassette tapes beginning to float on its own. Perhaps a demon really had possessed him, or at least latched on to him to scare the living piss out of him.

It of course wasn’t all bad. Playing D&D he could make the dice turn the way he wanted. Creating a way more tense and exciting game for the others. Their fright and courage and then in the end an almost lost game turned to victory. It was glorious to see them cheer. That was what he loved the most.

Now, even if he lay dying as Henderson hobbles away to get to safety (good, hurry and get out of here before the monsters regain consciousness). The kid - closest thing to a brother he’d ever had - thinks he’s dead. His eyes are closed and his body so very tired, but in the end, he doesn’t regret a single thing… well, perhaps having the courage to ask Chrissy for a kiss, but other than that, he’s golden.

His chest hurt where they took bites out of him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have stayed clean for this mission to Mordor. Mordor sucks… and hurts. Perhaps with a few pills it would have hurt less. The demon’s back too, the magic all over him. A faint collection of childhood memories that couldn’t have been his begins to bubble up inside his mind. Kids all dressed in weird hospital clothes.

What is this? He tries to make the magic help him, tries to tap into it like the doctor tells him. “Use your powers, number 10. USE THEM!” He clinches his eyes tighter and tries to concentrate on these ‘powers’ instead of the pain. Something flows inside of him freely now, he feels how it’s knitting his skin together. His screams fill the red haze, his body reconstruction itself and he feels everything.

He still expects to die. There must still be monsters out there, but as he lays on the dirty asphalt, panting with exhaustion, the ground growls and trembles beneath him. Pillars of red bursts up from his uncles trailer and out far away, the skies burning red, frightening him to the core… and yet, he knows he needs to warn the others. Know he needs to get out of Mordor before the beasts come crawling.

On wobbly legs, he slowly drags his body over to the giant void now created. He hopes he can simply lets him self fall in, letting him return to the right side of the streets… The side where he is hunted for being a murderer… looking around, he hobbles back to his weapon and shield and begins the journey through Mordor.

Hunger and thirst has set in but there is nothing here he would dare try to eat. Surprisingly he didn’t encounter a single monster over his days of walking. Something or someone must have stopped it. Perhaps the girl they kids talked about. He allows himself a relieved smile. Good to know they all are safe now. Glancing at the giant ominous scar across the lands he shutters. Perhaps not that safe.

When he arrives at the old farmhouse fields, he is pretty sure he isn’t going to get captured by angry townies or the government as most wanted or something. He slips into the scar of red, birthed anew on the other side. Greeted with his fellowship conking running down the hill with a war cry, brandishing with wooden sticks and closed fists as weapons. A few short steps away they still the screaming, tossed the made up on the spot weapons and rushes to his side. A chuckle bubbles up from his dry throat. They probably thought he was one of the monsters but boy was he glad it’s was them who greeted him.

He smiles so much his cheeks hurt, looking up at their happy faces. “Anyone got a beer?”

#eddie Munson #stranger things #Eddie Munson lives #hopefully spoilers for season 5

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manycoloureddays · 10 months

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2, 3, 8, 17 for stranger things ask

2. Favourite season of Stranger Things and your favourite scene in it?

okay so favourite season is tricky for me because robin buckley is the absolute light of my life, but season two is my favourite season. i am a sucker for a fallout narrative, i love when a story has consequences and s2 is where we get them! the consequences of the plot and the emotional fallout AND we get to see steve harrington adopt a bunch of middle schoolers while wielding his nailbat? AND nancy gets a taste of her own power when she helps bring barb's parents some closure? AND sean astin is there? it's definitely season two for me.

and my favourite scene... i can't have every single scene with steve and the kids so i'll say dustin intercepting steve arriving at the wheeler's and dragging him back into the monster hunting business with more than mild complaining. because it gives us all the rest of the scenes with steve and the kid and it adds a whole new dimension to both characters!

3. answered

8. Favourite weapon/power?

i love the nail bat! i love the origin of the bat, i love that it was lying around the wheeler house and i love that nancy picked it out as her first weapon to fight the monster that took her best friend, and i love that they turn it into the ultimate melee weapon and i love that steve who is so desperately trying to move on and pretend like everything is normal has clearly been driving around with it in his boot for a year.

(and because i'm totally chill and normal about steddie, i also love that eddie's homemade weapon ends up being a nail shield...... the implications of the sword and the shield...... i mean!!!)

17. A song that would save you from Vecna?

this is a song guaranteed to make me smile, i used to dance like a child possessed whenever this came on, and my brother and i demanded it be played again and again and again because dad would always dance with us, so it's packed full of good anti vecna memories too

#leiaorganathegeneral #that ask meme #thank you!!#put hoodoo voodoo on while i was writing that last answer and it really is a cure all #stranger things

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black-mesa-slut-voice · 3 years

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YOUR BEGINNER’S GUIDE TO CLASSIC HEADCRAB DOMESTICATION

Click below to start reading this comprehensive document!

Note: All of this is written purely for fun by an aspiring zoologist who simply loves genetics and speculative biology! This is only mildly inspired by source material, and isn’t completely indicative of canon. A lot of these things are just speculative or made up for fun!

If you want to use any of this information for your own headcanons, OCs, or fanart, you are 100% welcome to use it, though I would like to be credited!

If you would like to see more things based on these headcanons, ocs, or simply more things or art I’ve done on this subject, check out my #headcrabguide tag on my blog!

HISTORY

In the wake of the 7 hour war and the proceeding Combine invasion, there was a large amount of casualties. However, not all of these casualties were humans. Animals took a lot of hits as well, and in the remaining 20 years before liberation, the resulting environmental tolls as well as continued extermination caused this sixth mass extinction- arguably just as bad or worse than the meteorite that killed the dinosaurs. Nearly 75% of land animals and over 68% of marine animals went extinct in this time frame.

The most notable toll was on human-domesticated animals. Because of the Combine influence, any animal that was reliant on human care was almost immediately wiped out, both purposefully and inadvertently as humans were no longer available to care for them. All livestock species and most pet species were completely eliminated, leaving humans with few, if no animal companions.

Humans, however, are a very social species, and are naturals at befriending things that are arguably dangerous. Wolves, cats, and even less common creatures such as foxes, snakes, and spiders were kept and tamed and bred for companionship and work despite their danger. When the Combine forces were driven off and humans were once again allowed to practice the art of domestication, they were left with very few options. Some birds, a few select felines, insects, and alien species were nearly all they had to work with.

And so, work they did.

Headcrabs, despite their use as a weapon by the Combine, were one of the first alien species to actually be domesticated. It is theorized that this is because a number of factors- first is that the one of the leading rebellion leaders, Dr. Isaac Kleiner, actually possessed one name “Lamarr”, putting the idea in many people’s heads that they could be tamed and kept. The second was their abundance. They were easy to find and acquire, and despite their danger, could easily be captured. Third, they are very easy to selectively breed and mass produce. Lastly, it was quickly discovered that headcrabs are much more intelligent and social than previously anticipated.

In the wild of their home planet, Xen, headcrabs actually had a very complex social system and niche. They formed large groups- called casts- that staked out swathes of territory. The leader of the group was called a gonarch. The gonarch was a large, heavily mutated headcrab that was the sole reproducer, similar to that of queen bees or ants. Though it was large, fast, and capable of defending itself, it lost it’s ability to easily feed itself, as it’s mouth became much smaller to make room for the reproductive sac.

Because of that, the rest of the cast was tasked with hunting and feeding the gonarch in exchange for protection and reproduction. The smaller, albeit still mature headcrabs would go out, and attempt to hunt down anything it could- smaller things were eaten or fed to the gonarch, and larger things that had the right shaped heads could be ‘coupled’ with, fusing the headcrab to it’s host and creating a gonome. Though gonomes were more powerful and capable of hunting larger prey and defending the rest of the cast, in turn, they lost their ability to reproduce. Thus, most casts had one gonarch, several gonomes, and many crabs.

Gonomes could come in any species that was large enough for a headcrab to couple with- and is perhaps why headcrabs were actually so easy to tame. With the right social encouragement, a headcrab can easily recognize humans and other larger creatures as being part of their cast, and regard them in the same way they would a gonome- with social respect and friendliness.

With a few generations of selective breeding, headcrabs quickly became much more docile due to their natural instinct of accepting oddly-shaped creatures as part of their cast.

CARE AND HANDLING

Despite the generations of breeding leading to a much more friendly, domesticated headcrab, care must still be exercised with them in regards to handling. They are very similar to cats in the fact that, despite their domestication, they can still be wild at nature and will often hunt smaller creatures, and are capable of harming someone if provoked.

Also similar to cats are their sense of community. Like mentioned, headcrabs can be trained and raised to see certain people- usually a household- as part of their cast. However, this presents a problem with strangers entering their ‘territory’. If not properly socialized, headcrabs can be quite aggressive to anyone they don’t recognize as part of their cast. This is beneficial for those who don’t expect anyone, or want a ‘guard dog’ type of pet- but can be detrimental to those who have friends or family that may come to visit.

Though headcrabs lack eyes, they are not completely blind. They have subdermal eyes located near the base of their front legs, which can detect lights and shapes. That, combined with their ability to ‘taste’ the air with specialized glands, are how they recognize others and their environment.

If you plan on having someone visit, it may be best to have something that smells like the visitor on hand for a few weeks beforehand, so your headcrab can become used to their scent.

For headcrabs that don’t mind activity, you can also take your headcrabs on walks or trips into public to get them accustomed to having strange scents and people around them, leading them to be less aggressive, even at home. Of course, it is always a good idea to have proper restraint for any flighty, aggressive, or even headcrabs that have never been socialized in public before.

Another good way to prevent injury is physical modification. For headcrabs that simply are rowdy or aggressive- or even just as a precaution for the most well behaved crab- there are several things you can do to prevent injury.

When headcrabs first started being tamed, the most common method of modification was ‘debeaking’. Despite it’s name, it’s actually a misnomer, as headcrabs don’t have beaks, only radial rings and fangs. ‘Debeaking’ was the process of removing all 18 fangs on the underside of the crab surgically, usually when young. This prevents them from growing back and completely eliminates the risk of being bitten.

However, this practice was quickly upturned under the argument of it being inhumane. While the headcrab often doesn’t suffer because of this, as their fangs are only used for gripping prey and not eating it- if done incorrectly, it can be painful in the long run.

One of the slightly more common methods are ‘fang caps’. Similar to claw caps for cats, fang caps are a small, plastic cap that can be fitted over the fangs of a headcrab. With a small amount of specialty glue, they become long-lasting solutions for injury prevention with no physical harm to your crab. Despite the seemingly perfect upsides, there are also precautions you must take. It is possible for a fang cap to become loose or fall off either through being applied incorrectly or simply from wear and tear. Thus, you must always monitor the state of the caps to ensure there are no accidents.

The third option, and the least used, is clipping. Though it does not remove the whole fang, clipping refers to filing down/clipping each fang individually so it’s not sharp. However, this is generally not only difficult, but it’s actually uncomfortable for the crab, and they can grow back fairly quickly.

For headcrabs that are properly either defanged or capped, there is little to no risk of being bitten. If a properly cared for headcrab does attack or try to mount your head, it can simply be pulled off, as there’s nothing allowing it to grip onto it’s ‘prey’.

However, you must still be mindful of the long, sharp front claws. Unlike the fangs, these do not have nerves until very deep in- and thus, can be slightly trimmed and filed with no discomfort on your crab’s end.

FEEDING

Headcrabs- despite their predatory nature- are not only social, but omnivores as well. This fact comes as a surprise to some people who look at them and compare them to things such as spiders.

Indeed, though a headcrab is most definitely a predator, they’re more opportunistic than anything. They will often eat nearly anything they wander across, including small creatures, decaying corpses, fruits, fungi, algaes and lichens, and very occasionally some vegetables and leafy matter.

Most of what they eat is less dependent on taste, and more of their actual physical ability to eat it. Because of their hyper specialized mouthparts, they are unable to chew. Instead, they scrape at the soft parts of whatever is fitted into their mouth with a specialized, rough ring around the inner mouth fitted with a bunch of extremely small ‘teeth’, similar to that of a lamprey. Thus, they can only eat what they can scrape off with that, and cannot chew bones or anything hard or with too much roughage. It’s non uncommon to see a headcrab take something into it’s mouth, such as a small bone or rock covered in lichen- ‘suck’ it clean, and spit it back out.

Thus, headcrabs can be fed nearly anything that they can fit into their mouth. Of course, that is within reason- it’s always good to look up what is or isn’t toxic to your crab, as well as feed them specialty diets to make sure they get all of the proper nutrients they need without over or underfeeding.

The most common way to feed is with commercial ‘crabcakes’- rounded nutrient blocks resembling a large piece of kibble, that comes in several sizes to fit in any crab’s mouth. Once given, a headcrab will take about a few hours to eat it, and don’t need to be fed again for another few days, or up to a week, depending on activity and how many supplemental treats are given in between. Though it’s perfectly fine to feed them only cakes or only prepared food, the most enriching and balanced option is feeding the cakes once a week, with smaller, daily ‘treats’ of different varieties being given.

Some of these treats can include:

Pieces of meat (any type, cooked or raw)

Small, whole prey (commercially prepared mice or chicks)

Whole or sliced fruits (apple, pear, etc)

Tubers (potato, sweet potato, carrot)

Hard vegetables / stalks (chopped celery, broccoli, etc)

Mushrooms (anything edible by humans is edible for your crab)

As a special treat, sometimes you can replace a cake with a large ‘prey’ item that would also take several hours to eat. Some examples are:

Large whole prey (Whole birds, large chunks of meat, antlion grubs, etc)

Large fruits (Melons of any type are a favorite)

Large vegetables (heads of cabbage, heads of broccoli, etc)

Of course, any meat-based items are going to be chosen over non-meat items if offered.

BREEDING

Breeding headcrabs, unlike many other creatures, is generally not something that can be done unless you are a committed hobbyist. Namely because normal headcrabs- even if they are mature- are incapable of breeding whatsoever. The only type of headcrab that can reproduce are the gonarch, the heads of the cast. All headcrabs are biologically ‘male’ until they transform into a gonarch, or lost reproductive organs entirely as a gonome.

Originally a gonarch was produced when there simply wasn’t a gonarch in the group. The largest, strongest individual would then begin to grow and mutate, similar to how many fishes can mutate into a larger or opposite gender if needed.

However, this ability was removed from the headcrab- along with the ability to create proper gonomes- by the combine when they were being used as weapons. Though headcrabs were efficient at taking care of humans, anything larger and more dangerous threated to get out of hand; the combine didn’t want them reproducing out of control and becoming another threat. Incidentally, this is also when their eyes became subdermal as part of a side effect of gene altering.

Because of this, there are only two ways to breed a headcrab. One, and the most common, is to create an artificial gonarch sack. Blueprints were taken from the combine after their defeat that allowed humans to replicate the same technology that allowed them to mass-produce them before.

Artificial gonarch sacs are similar to ‘ghosts hearts’ where they are pseudo-biological, and accept any DNA put into it. Thus, you can insert DNA from any crab to become the ‘gonarch’ or ‘female’ DNA, and either get the smaller male to ‘mount’ the artificial gonarch in a specialized area, or do the male portion artificially as well.

The artificial womb also lets you control how many offspring are produced, as normally a gonarch can produce hundreds of crabs from each successful mating- too many, often, to properly take care of.

Much less common is the artificial transformation of a true gonarch.

Any headcrab can be stimulated to turn into a gonarch with the injection of artificial hormones that trigger the process. It will then take a few weeks to a few months for the crab to transform.

However, this is not recommended for a number of reasons.

First, they are large. They need much more than a house for their territory- they often need several acres, and if it’s deemed unsuitable for a nest, she will refuse to breed and become agitated.

Second, they are very territorial, aggressive, and dominant. If you were a gonome to them before, you still are- which means, in headcrab ranks, she is now above you, socially. Even the most docile crab becomes an aggressive, protective creature who will defend her young and territory with her life. Combine that with their massive size, they are extremely dangerous, even to a professional.

Third, it is very hard to regulate the exact breeding. She will only accept other headcrabs from her cast, and if she deems them unfit, will promptly kill them. And even once they are bred, they can produce several hundred offspring- of which it is very hard to take care of, and even harder to take away from her due to her protective nature.

Lastly, she cannot feed by herself. She requires being fed specialized food through specialized apparatus- and a lot of it.

It’s expensive, costly, and overall dangerous. Thus, artificial gonarch sacs are generally the go-to.

COLORS AND PATTERNS

Just like with previous animals that were domesticated, such as cats, dogs, and goldfish, after a few generations of breeding they began to exhibit unique colors and patterns. After enough time, unique, recognized colors, coats, and even breeds came to be official recognized.

It was made even easier because breeding for exact genes was made simple by means of artificial sacs. Thus, headcrabs come in a vast array of colors and patterns, some even unique to certain subspecies.

The most common colors are pale, albeit warm shades of tans, yellows, and browns. In more rare cases, they can take a more green, purple, or red tint.

Tan, ash, sand, and flaxen were the first recognized distinct colors that were bred onto headcrabs. Chocolate and umber quickly arose from the original tan, with rose following not far behind. When rose was cross-bred back with umber, it resulted in lilac.

Golden arose when sand crabs were bred for vibrancy, and sorrel was the result of a cross of golden and umber.

Flaxen gave way to wheat, and then swamp when bred for the cooler, greenish mutation.

Patterns, too, were something that quickly came about, not long after the first distinct colors began to be recognized.

The first patterns that arose were speckled, striped, and Siamese (named after the similar patterned cat).

Fawned came from a recessive mutation that reversed the pigment cells that caused the spotting pattern on speckled crabs, making them appear lighter instead of darker. Pearled arose when it was cross-bred back with speckled- which usually resulted in speckled, but sometimes in pearled. Because fawned is recessive, the only way to get fawned is to breed with another fawned or a pearled. Breeding a fawned and a speckled results in only speckled or pearled.

Snowshoe, similarly, rose from the same recessive mutation, though this time with Siamese. Similar rules apply; though an ‘in between’ similar to pearled does not exist, as they simply neutral each other out.

Capped rose from Siamese, though it looks similar to bullseye. Bullseye actually came from a very hyper specific mutation of smoked, and is one of the most rare patterns, much moreso than capped or smoked.

Striped crabs are what were bred into both smoke and ticked- with smoke being an increased level of pigment, and ticked being a decreased level.

Marbled is another very rare pattern with dubious origins. Some say it’s a standalone mutation, though others say it originated with smoke, bullseye, and even speckled. However, none of these are confirmed.

Of course, all of the patterns and colors on the charts above are not every single example- there are many more sub-variations of colors and patterns of each type, these are just the main, conformed and recognized ones. They also don’t include any non-recognized crossbreeds or mixes of colors or patterns that aren’t an established record.

UNIQUE BREEDS

Even moreso than recognized colors and patterns are unique breeds of crabs. Though, again, not even breed pictured above are all of them, these are just some of the more noteworthy examples.

Truthfully, nearly all crabs are going to be your standard breed, and not one of the ones pictured. Unless it is either obvious or has had a genetics test, it is safe to assume your crab is a standard.

Two of the most recognized sub-species are the racer and the false poison. These were both bred to be inspired by the combine-created species, the “fast” headcrab and the poison headcrab. Their target audience both began for people who liked them in theory or as an aesthetic, but lacked the funds, ability, or want to deal with the much more dangerous and aggressive ‘true’ versions.

Because they were intended for war, fast headcrabs and poison headcrabs lack almost all social aspects that standards do, are much more aggressive, flighty, wild, and dangerous. Not to mention to potent neurotoxin than poison headcrabs excrete, and the vicious teeth of fast headcrabs. Nowadays theyre both often bred for show or work, but we aren’t focused on them here, simply the standard crab.

Pancakes are some of the harder to recognized subspecies, due to their generally unassuming appearance. They’re named so because they’re typically ‘flatter’ than the normal headcrab, tend to range in the golden-sandy color range, and are described as being ‘soft and sweet’. True to that, that is the original purpose that pancakes were bred for- they’re small, lazy, hyper-friendly headcrabs that almost never attempt to show any signs of aggression unless severely pushed. They’re great for households with kids, or simply people who want a slightly less high-maintenance crab.

They can come in nearly any pattern and color, but again, tend to be in the warm, golden-yellow tone range.

Hunchbacks are a much more narrow breed, since it's recessive, and tend to be not as desirable for no other fact than their appearance. Still, that are amazingly unique. Because of the rarer, recessive nature, they generally only swamp/wheat/greenish colors, and only come in a narrower range of patterns, including speckled, smoked, striped, ticked, and marbled. Though, because of the fact that speckled exist, pearled and fawned theoretically could too- there’s simply yet to be documented evidence of a successful fawned mutation.

Nubbed is another breed caused by a rare mutation that has been successfully bred into a small population. It’s very easy to spot because of it; the mutation clearly causing their front claws to be short, or ‘nubbed’. Nubbed can come in any color or pattern, though they tend to follow the standard/less extreme patterns and colors. This is because it was because of a mutation that actually happened really early in domestication, before a lot of colors or patterns were even bred, and is a recessive mutation making it hard to breed with rarer colors and patterns.

Saddlehorns are an extremly unique and very specialized breed. They’re definitely recognizable by their concave back and the nub near the base of their front claws. They also have a pattern that's unique to only saddlehorns- which is the 'cow spotted' pattern. However, it isn’t just random spots. Though they do have large splotches, they always have a band going around their middle as well. They can come in any pale color, and the markings are usually in the brown to dark, almost black range.

Bunin or “Bubbleheads” are actually a relative of hunchbacks, and not saddlehorns, despite the head similarity. They tend to follow the same rules as hunchbacks, but instead of greenish tones, they come in golds, yellows and warm-orange tones. There has also been confirmed cases of fawned and pearled bubbleheads.

Volkov are a common, albeit specific breed that's bred for it's ferocity, but also it's loyalty. They’re often easy to mistake for a standard, and combined with their relative commonality make them hard to identify to the untrained eye. They appear like standard headcrabs, except they have a slight hunch to them. Their real difference lies in the personality.

As mentioned, they’re loyal and very attentive to the rest of their cast, but have a ferocity and sharp hunting ability that comes with it’s protectiveness. They’re often used as pest control or ‘guard dogs’. This makes them suitable for those jobs, but poor choices for people who live in high population areas or have lots of visitors.

They generally come in browns and blacks, but can truthfully come in any color. They can come in MOST patterns- all but smoked and bullseye.

Batas are another weird breed with a unique patterns, which is the squiggly markings centralized on their rump. They only really come in variations of the color pictured, golds, flaxens, and sandy. Similar to pancakes, they're known for being very complacent with handling, making them good for those with kids or for shows, where the more prominent the markings the better they judge. The difference is the fact that the whole breed itself is prone to many health problems, as it’s very recessive and commonly inbred. Purebreds are pretty expensive.

Silkies or “thinskins” are a breed that came from a mutation that caused their skin to be extremely thin. They're questionable morally to keep, since they're prone to getting wounded very easily, even by their own fangs and claws. Because of this, they have to be debeaked and/or declawed, or must have fang caps at all times and their front claws filed regularly, les they hurt themselves.

They also generally have a myriad of other health problems because of the inbreeding needed to get them, and are prone to several diseases, skin problems, and increased chance of injury.

They generally dont have any patterns, but come in most all colors. However, because of their thin skin, their yellow blood tends to show through, giving any color a yellow tint- and appearing outright yellow on lighter coats.

Munchkins aren’t as much of a breed as they are a mutation, and can come in any color or pattern because of it. There can even be munchkins of other breeds.

Hookclaws are a very newly recognized breed, and still have yet to be fully explored. So far, they can come in pretty much any color, but they never have any patterns aside from a heavy gradient on their back. More research is being done to try and breed patterns onto them.

SUMMARY

Despite their nefarious beginnings, headcrabs quickly arose as a very common, domesticated companion in the post-combine years. Though they aren’t for everybody, they make a fascinating, unique pet for those willing to put in the work and research. Or, even if you aren’t interested in adoption; the history and genetics are a fascinating, competitive, and potentially lucrative field for any young entrepreneur.

So whether you’re looking for a new companion, someone to guard the house while you’re away, or simply a new career in genetics, headcrabs are an amazing species to look into.

#half life #half life 2 #headcrab #headcrabs #speculative biology #alien biology #my art #ask to tag #headcrabguide

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