#i should probably be more careful with identifying information

[wholewolfsbane]

🦴 INTRO

last edited: 24/5/24

Welcome to my kin blog! Heres some stuff to get to know me, my identity & my blog. I'd prefer if you read this before following me, but im not ur dad. Just know i block freely.

ABOUT ME

🍁 You can call me Red! Or my real name, if you know it. Im an autistic 16 year old guy (he/it) and i identify mostly as a canine therian— But i have other identities. Im also goth & scenemo, which isnt important but i wanted to say it lmao

🍁 I am brazilian american (1st generation) but ive never been to the USA despite this, and i am self taught in english so im sorry if i fuck up 💀 im also learning french because i (unfortunately) live in france.

🍁 I have a mate and he is the goat (hes a cat actually) and he does not post at all but you should still follow him @vampiresvanity

🍁 I love getting new mutuals!! please ask to be my mutual i probably will never say no. and feel free to dm me as long as youre under 25

🍁 i follow from @120red

MORE

fandoms: homestuck, warrior cats, furry, scott pilgrim, pokemon, etc

games: wolfquest, planet zoo, the wolf among us, rdr2, transformice, stardew valley

books: dracula, frankenstein, owls of ga'hoole, wings of fire, watership down

music: my chemical romance, modern baseball, lapfox trax, pierce the veil, insane clown posse, korn, the cure, scary bitches, s3rl, yaelokre, sublime, etc

movies & shows: wolfwalkers, how to train your dragon, wolfblood, MTV downtown, invader zim, the lion king, oliver & company, etc

collectibles: littlest pet shop, charlie bears, plushies, feathers, crystals, model horses, random ass trinkets

IDENTITY

╰┈➤ KEY:

★ = spiritual

☆ = psychological

✮ = physical

𖤐 = all of the above

✦ = heartype

✰ = copinglink

? = still figuring it out

🥩 Dhole (Cuon Alpinus) 𖤐

🥩 Wolf (Canis Lupus) 𖤐?

↳ 🦴 Sea Wolf

↳ 🦴 Yellowstone Wolf

🥩 Wolfdog (Canis Lupus x Canis Lupus Familiaris) ☆✮

🥩 Werewolf ☆✮

🥩 American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos) ✦

🥩 Dog (Canis Lupus Familiaris) ?

↳ 🦴 English Cocker Spaniel ✦

↳ 🦴 A Big Breed Idk Which One ☆

🥩 Black Flying Fox (Pteropus alecto) ✰

Im also dave strider from homestuck and fan from inanimate insanity but i do not talk about it much here

BLOG

this blog is where i post mostly about alterhumanity! this may be my experiences, tips for others, aesthetic shit and bla bla bla. its mostly just a space for me to be open about it.

DNI: antikin, anti agere/petre, proshippers & comshippers, zoos, kink/nsfw accounts

THIN ICE: kin-for-fun, non alterhumans in general

BYF: i curse a lot. i change my pfp based on the 'type i feel most connected with. thats practically it lol

TAGS

#info :: information about me/my blog

#favs :: favorite posts

#asks :: answering asks

#howls :: stuff about alterhumanity

#barks :: random unimportant posts

#wags :: stuff that made me happy

#wholewolf-reblogs :: reblogs

#my art :: drawings i make

#stuffs :: misc things i make

#moodboards :: moodboards. duh

#home :: hearthomes & nature pics

#me if u even care :: 'type pics lol

pixel gifs by @bugsb1te

#info #intro #introduction #blog intro #therian #therianthrope #alterhuman #nonhuman #otherkin #kinmunity #therianthropy #therianblr #kinblr #kin blog #dholekin #wolfkin #lycanthrope #otherhearted #copinglink #copinglinker #theriotype

[otomes-world]

Six impossible things before breakfast

Little twist with sentient twst au, yes, I didn't expect this either. Masterlist with more works here

We've probably all heard the joke about "How many light bulbs does it take to (insert whatever)." Who would have thought that you would use a slightly modified version of it: how many more coincidences must happen to realize the truth.

Although can anyone really blame you for not wanting to admit that you are a bunch of colored pixels created purely for entertainment purposes? No, it even sounds nice. After all, your purpose was to create extras, a stage on which the main characters performed and shone. Those who had faces.

Did you always have yours? Could you always see it in the mirror in the morning?

Did figurative shivers run down your spine every time a faceless classmate addressed you? One of ten, hundreds, exactly the same. Have the main bunch had the same problem? That's the question you'd been asking yourself lately. Did they shrug off empty, replaceable shells, or at least for a second consider them their equals?

Perhaps the question should have been asked differently. Was this in the order of things for them, because the thought of the incorrectness of worldly norms did not flash through their heads. Or it was something simple and very banal - they did not realize that they were part of the game.

Were you special? The thought was flattering, but it was stupid to start turning up your nose. Maybe the supreme programmer, like the smart guys from Ignihyde, could consider you a virus, a bug, an annoying nuisance, which can be gotten rid of in a couple of seconds. Click and that's it, your file would be deleted.

The idea that death could be more than just literal took you by surprise.

It all started with a strange feeling of déjà vu, with a strange cyclical nature of what was happening. How the seasons did not change according to the laws of nature or, on the contrary, lasted longer than expected. Sometimes you wondered what month was going on, at least by counting. Or how you couldn’t say with certainty what year of study you were in. When was your graduation? Would it ever come?

How many times did the main characters celebrate their birthday? How many times had you celebrated it? Did you celebrate it from the start?

Lessons

Breaks

Exams

Holidays

Lessons

Was there an end to this merging stream of eternal students? Was the dormitory assignment ceremony that important? How many real “first-year students” were admitted each year? Why couldn't your educational journey end? Time adjusted and obeyed an invisible force; it existed only when it was convenient for someone.

Catching the attention of the local spotlight and getting on stage was the best way to get labeled as a "bug" and ask to be removed. However, the main threat was only the erasure of memory.

The next discovery was doubt about one’s own “specialness.” When consciousness had nothing to do, it began to cling to different details, trying to look for differences in a series of events repeated in the film.

When you knew what to look for, small mistakes that were not noticeable at first glance stand out more than usual. A slight shadow of boredom on the faces of the main ones. Lack of interest in the educational process and exams. As if only one “exam” was important in a bunch of exactly the same events. When the first years of Heartslabyul signed a contract with Ashengrotto.

With new information in mind, it became easier to identify important “events” and track time based on them. By how many times they were repeated in the endless flow of time. Taking notes and somehow recording data was more dangerous than you thought, all that was left was to come up with methods known to you alone. For example, in a dorm room on the bedside table there was a cluster of glasses, each containing specific color of pencils.

Did your roommates start to think you were weird and obsessed with order and cleanliness? Their right. You didn't care what they thought, besides, they would forget about it with the coming of a new day.

In order not to completely go crazy, you began to peer into the “faces” of other students, trying to spot at least a feature that distinguishes one from another. Either this world was too lazy, creating copy after copy in every dorm, or there was no point in trying. If you somehow came to terms with the feeling of the meaninglessness of what was happening, then the appearance of one student in several places at the same time still caused rejection.

Disgusting

If this world was someone’s experiment, then why were events cyclical? If this was a cage, then where was the exit. If this was a prison, then who was being held in it?

You made a mistake in observing a person without magic from another world. Trying to figure out whether Yuu's "world" was truly different or just as much a part of predestination as everything around. Was “Yuu” really the main one or just an extra? You could have sworn they didn't have a face. At least such clear features as all the main ones. Just as there was no character, how in each of the repeating events they could behave differently.

It was a breath of fresh air in the routine of never-ending study. The watching of the only part capable of changing in the world, subject to the same rules.

That's why, when one of the main ones suddenly approached you, you thought you were dreaming. Whether it was possible to fall asleep in the simulation was another question. Usually you went to bed, closed eyes, only to open them the next second to the sound of the alarm clock.

"Can I help you with something?" You smiled politely, but was it worth it? Could the main bunch distinguish between persons different from their privileged group.

Hunt. Was that his name? You weren't completely sure. He was part of something forbidden, something to be avoided at all costs. Part of the three “don’ts”: don’t look for information;don’t mention; don’t give yourself unnecessary temptations. Returning to the present moment, he just looked into your eyes with his constant smile, as if trying to find confirmation of something.

Like a true NPC, you continued to stand, frozen in one position and waiting for his answer. Until awareness came as abruptly as his appearance in principle. He looked straight into your eyes. Could he see your face the same way you saw it in the mirror? How long ago? Could the rest of the main ones see you too?

A billion questions were spinning in head at the same time as you tried to come up with a suitable excuse and reason to leave. The changes turned out to be too unexpected and frightening. Perhaps with the advent of a new “day” everything would return to normal.

“Is there a knight in the world who is not ready to devote all his deeds to one and only one, if this opens the veil of secrets at least a little? Will it allow him to find out what thoughts are spinning in head?”

It's a pity he was not a knight. Even though each word was pronounced with a special intonation, you only thought about how much water there was in his speech. Unfortunately, saying this out loud was an unaffordable luxury.

"..Is that so?"

“You are right, an étoile (star), I may be not one of their noble number, but even so I am not able to deny their order.” You let him continue, mentally counting down the minutes until the bell rang for lesson. “I may not have a sword in sheath, but It won`t change a way I live! Your smile can make my whole heart melt. There isn't lie in way I felt”

“I’m not good at poetry, but the rhyme is lame, Sir Hunt,” if it’s there.

“You’re right, writing poems is just one of my hobbies, to which I devote my few free leisure hours,” he continued, as if your words didn’t hurt him at all. “I hasten to assure you that there was no malicious intent in my actions. This modest hunter only wanted to greet a new connoisseur of everything beautiful and interesting."

No matter how much you hate beating around the bush, doubts creeping in from randomly thrown words. Sometimes the phrases spoken directly were the most frightening. However, not wanting to part with your role as an extra - which was burdensome, but at the same time giving a semblance of freedom - you continued to pretend to be an NPC.

"Should I congratulate you?.. Congratulations!" Any member of the film club would envy your feigned sincerity. A bell in three, two, "I don’t dare detain you any longer.”

The unsaid `like you would me` hung in the air. You had to hold out for the few remaining hours until the end. Fortunately, the main one did let you go, but smile, saying that its owner knew everything in the world, left an unpleasant aftertaste. One that your intuition suggested would accompany you for the next days.

It's going to be a very long a few hours.

#by the way it`s quote from Alice in Wonderland #i serached for ideas before saw this one #i liked it more then i probably should #rook's only role probably to appear and make already bad thing go worst #also #just in case... the poems were not written poorly on purpose #it really is so-so #this is not the author's idea #but a lack of necessary skills #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #sentient au twst #sentient twst au #yandere sentient twst #sentient twst #yandere x reader #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twst rook #twst rook hunt #rook x reader #rook hunt

[meaningofaeons]

I am here w your svarog rec!!

Reader n clara are playing and one of them like, falls or something and gets rlly lightly hurt and just,,, his reaction to that

- 🍓

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ a small trip

⊹ character(s) - svarog ⊹ word count - 1.2k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, reader is implied to be a fighter/be close with svarog and clara, sugary sweet tooth-melting fluff

🍓ANON HI!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SATING MY DESIRE TO WRITE FOR SVAROG !!!!! I really like him a lot he is so sweet <3 ILY TY FOR REQUESTING ( ↀДↀ)✧

"Bio heat reaction detected — Identifying bio information... Identification result: Y/N. — Hostility level: None. What can I do for you, Y/N?"

That familiar robotic tone greeted you as soon as you had made your way into Svarog's base camp, spotting the glowing red eye you had grown accustomed to.

The robot awaited you and Clara at the top of the steps, and you gently eased the small girl up, giving Svarog a gentle smile.

"Sorry, Svarog. While Clara and I were out, she got a small wound. I was wondering where you keep the medical supplies?"

"Y/N, I'm fine..." the young girl whined, clutching to your hand for a moment longer before walking over to give Svarog a greeting hug (which was really more of her latching onto his leg).

You nodded kindly.

"I know, dear. But if you don't get it looked at, it could get worse. We don't want that, do we?"

Then, you turned your attention to the robotic man.

"She really is fine, but she had quite the tumble, to be honest. Her knee has a slight scrape. Could you show us inside?"

"What happened?" Svarog's head tilted.

"Some Fragmentum monsters appeared out of nowhere. It was just in the scramble to find a hiding place. We're both okay."

"What of the condition of the monsters that encroached on your time together? Where are they found?"

You chuckled. Although his voice was as computerized as ever, you could hear the barest hint of protectiveness seep in every now and then—something that should be impossible, yet, here you were.

"Not to worry. I took care of them before we returned. Clara managed to find somewhere to hide in the scuffle."

"Understood. Come along, Clara."

"But what about Y/N?!" Clara burst out, tears threatening to fill her red eyes as she clutched onto Svarog's pantleg and tugged him back before he could walk away. "They tripped too!"

"Ah, nonsense!" you hurried, laughing nervously. "I'm really all right. I didn't get any injuries from it."

"But if I need to get checked out, you should too! Just in case!"

Children sure are stubborn these days.

You shook your head in resignment, turning again to the tall robot as he scooped Clara into his arm.

"Do you mind if I impose?"

"You are not someone capable of imposing. You are always welcome in our camp," Svarog answered surely, without leaving space for a single question or protest. He moved towards you, offering one hand while his other was occupied holding Clara.

You took it graciously, heading into the small mansion that was Svarog's home.

"Not someone capable of imposing, hmm... Is that all part of your calculations too?" you nudged him as you made your way through the halls, going to the makeshift infirmary set up in the back corner of the estate.

"Yes."

You chuckled lightly. Stoic as always. Then again, he is a robot.

"What if I defected, became a vagrant and went to steal your stockpiled goods for whatever reason?"

"Calculating — Rate of trust towards Y/N exceeds that of the average human. Probability of betrayal, defection, or otherwise malintent: 0.00%. Result identical to previous fifteen calculated results. Existing data will temporarily not be altered."

Your eyes widened a bit of that, and you raised a brow.

"Clara, have you asked him such a thing before?"

"No, I haven't..." she trailed off. You turn to Svarog.

"So, you think about me often, do you?" you teased lightly, knowing the robot would have some sort of calculative response to that.

Svarog did not respond.

In the moment, you shrugged it off, but something tickled the back of your mind about the way he remained silent.

Was there really a way to calculate such a thing with pure logic?

You chose to shove the thought from your mind for now.

Svarog gently sat Clara on the examination table, gathering bandages and ointment. He placed them on the table beside you, standing back and allowing you to gently patch up the small girl's leg.

As soon as you finished, the girl had hopped up at once, hugging you and Svarog lightly as she went to the door.

"I'm going to go check on Pascal. Bye, Mr. Svarog! Bye, Y/N!"

You waved her off with a smile, sighing as you leaned against the wall.

"Please sit on the examination table, Y/N."

The computerized voice cut through your thoughts, and you eyed Svarog, who was very pointedly staring at your knee. You chuckled nervously, waving your arms again.

"Svarog, like I said, I'm fine. I didn't trip that hard—"

"According to observational results, you have a mild limp and a tremble in your left leg. Probability of injury: 96.38%. Probability of injury exceeding average standard of human pain tolerance: 47.92%. Probability of—"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" you huffed, tossing yourself onto the examination table and lifting up your pantleg. Though the gash in your knee was nothing life-threatening even if infection were to encroach, it did hurt, and nothing escaped Svarog's observational eye.

"See? Nothing too bad. I can take care of it myself back home, you don't need to worry."

"I will treat it."

"Svarog!" you exclaimed as he took the ointment in his large, metallic hand, applying a generous amount. "I really am okay!"

"Clara is worried for your well-being. As am I." The second part of his sentence made you shut up just a bit. That is, until he started rambling again. "Probability of Clara's mental well-being declining as a result of Y/N's injured knee — 93.49%—"

"I got it with the calculations! Just... do what you gotta do," you relented at last, allowing the robot to finish dressing your wound and bandaging you up at remarkable speeds.

Honestly, with how large his hands are, you weren't sure if he'd be up for it. Still, he did a decent job. Better than decent, really.

"Are medical skills also ingrained somewhere in that big computer-like database of yours?"

"I can access all databases relative to Belobog. As there are records of accurate and efficient medical care, I am able to perform these according to written instruction."

"Hmm... Well, thank you, regardless."

"You have my appreciation as well, Y/N, for assisting Clara. It would be appreciated if you would look after her in the future, as well."

You laughed lightly.

"Is that even a question? I'll always be there for you and Clara. No need to worry. Though, I'm sure you'd be able to demolish anyone that threatens Clara with far more ease than I."

"Verifying accuracy of claim — Combat systems—"

"Okay, Svarog, just an observation, no need for an analysis!"

"Very well."

By the time Svarog had led you back outside, Clara had returned, Pascal in tow. She gave you another great, big hug before you left, all while you patted the robot on the arm.

"I'll see you two later."

"Goodbye, Y/N."

"Bye, Y/N! Come back and visit again soon!"

As soon as you were out of earshot, the small girl turned to her father figure, a big beaming grin on her usually timid face.

"Are you and Y/N gonna get married, Mr. Svarog?"

Svarog did not reply aloud, but the whirring of his circuits made it plenty clear to Clara that calculations were running like rampant in his computerized mind.

"Let us go inside, Clara."

She only giggled.

#hsr #honkai #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #svarog #svarog x reader #anon #🍓 anon

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Would I be the asshole for asking my suicidal girlfriend not to vent with me? First ask here, be warned for heavy topics about the above situation. Putting an emoji for easy finding. 🦐

I am a polyamorous person (22nb) with my long distance girlfriend (22f) of about 1 year. I love her deeply, and we have known each other for a long time when I used to go to school in person with her. I also have an in person queer platonic partner (22nb) who lives with me currently and has been with me for about 3 years. Both of my partners are suicidal and self harm, though the partner who is living with me has luckily seemed to improve a lot through being able to spend time with someone who cares for them constantly. My girlfriend...sadly has not gotten the same chance, since she moved long before we got together and has only her family to keep her stable (who have proven before this point that they are pretty terrible support systems, when they actively encouraged her self harming to become worse).

Luckily, I have had this rodeo before due to a majority of my friends struggling with this sort of problem, and when she began saying things in my dms that pointed towards depression and suicidality, I was quick to try to help her get into therapy. Whether or not this therapist is really the best is sort of iffy, as the therapist hasn't worked with her on a lot despite over a month of them working together, so...she hasn't gotten much work towards helping to change things and has felt somewhat stuck. I know she needs to probably get a new therapist, but due to not having insurance at the moment it's not an easy situation to just change. Since things have not gotten to improve, she...has still felt horrible most days will come to me in DMs to tell me how bad it is. Which, you know, should be fine, but it's the *way* she talks about it-- it's in a very vent heavy, far too much triggering information, Everything Is Horrible and there is no way to fix it and I should Die, way.

I have learned boundaries in regards to my own mental health due to just how often I have encountered things, and luckily, my other partner is great about it! They don't talk about their issues with suicidality all that much which can make me worried at times, but when they *do*, it's very much a situation of them bringing up how they feel and then us moving forwards to do something distracting or something that will help them. Instead of an info dump of Horrible Information That Makes Me Fear For Their Life, it's just. Moving to make sure they're doing better and changing things, identifying why certain feelings are feeling bad. But with my girlfriend, these topics come on suddenly without warning, are spoken in such a way that I feel like 1. I can't move on or change anything to help 2. I don't have a way to respond that will end up doing anything but make her feel worse. I feel at a complete loss of how to handle these things that she's just throwing on me. I haven't mentioned yet to her how bad these ventings make me feel because I'm worried it would make her internalize it and worsen her issues, though I know I do probably need to communicate it with her. I feel that she may just not be quite as mature as my other partner in how to handle feelings like this yet(most likely due to lack of support systems), and I WANT her to be able to talk about her feelings. I'm her girlfriend, after all, a little bit of emotional labor is always going to be a part of supporting people that close to you. Just...not in a way that will end up ultimately making both me and her feel like shit, and get her in a worse direction than before.

She eventually will be moving in with us next year, and I am wondering if I should try to wait to talk about it until then when she has more of a support to lean against, or should I try to figure it out right now. Right now could leave her...hurt and much more vulnerable, which would be a real risk considering the scenario. Would I be the asshole for telling her that she needs to work on how she talks about these topics, and that I can't have her continuing to put her emotions on me like this?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw #self harm cw

[limbus-datamines]

Angela Announcer Lines

long post, under cut

"id": "announcer_cheer_12_1", "dlg": "I am the best in a majority of work fields, but 'cheering' requires a longer boot sequence than the others. The region of 'Empathy' needs some dusting to load up due to low usage frequency."

"id": "announcer_cheer_12_2", "dlg": "The Sephirot used to take care of such babysitting work, but… an advanced AI such as I am quite efficient in multitasking."

"id": "announcer_cheer_12_3", "dlg": "I see. I must pre-record these encouraging lines for a manager of an unknown spacetime. Oh my. I was not aware that the recording had already started."

"id": "announcer_specialcheer_12_1", "dlg": "Your employees' health is at a critical level. A manager must listen to and abide by my advice; you should consider me your most trusted and capable companion, after all."

"id": "announcer_specialcheer_12_2", "dlg": "Your employees are on the verge of death. That reminds me… manager, I recall that you had access to a special function, no? Sometimes, a full reset is the most efficient solution to a disaster."

"id": "announcer_enemy_break_12_1", "dlg": "An entity before you is obviously and completely unguarded. Though I would hate to do so, I may have to recalculate my estimations of your capabilities should you fail to exploit this opportunity."

"id": "announcer_enemy_break_12_2", "dlg": "I have identified a flat-footed enemy. Many of your predecessors have used such openings to order a killing blow."

"id": "announcer_ally_break_12_1", "dlg": "An employee is wounded. There is a high probability that an enemy may deal a fatal blow against them. This requires a decisive judgment from the manager."

"id": "announcer_ally_break_12_2", "dlg": "I have identified an injured employee. People colloquially describe this state as 'having a screw loose', am I correct? … Do note that this was not a pointless witticism but a strategic interjection for the purpose of relaxing your nerves."

"id": "announcer_killenemy_12_1", "dlg": "An entity's life signal has ceased. If I was a human with a more enthusiastic personality, I might have submitted a request for a high-five with you."

"id": "announcer_ally_dead_12_1", "dlg": "I have identified a deceased employee. It is but one of many minor inconveniences in your way, manager. They were all aware that such an outcome may await them when they joined our company."

"id": "announcer_enemy_adv_12_1", "dlg": "The enemies have the upper hand. And I expect that you will be the finest manager there ever was."

"id": "announcer_ally_adv_12_1", "dlg": "Your employees have the upper hand. This is clear evidence that you have been taking my advice seriously. This process is often called 'trust', or so they say. I consider this a positive development."

"id": "announcer_danger_12_1", "dlg": "An employee does not have much time left. We have little choice but to wait. The employee must either break free from the yoke, or wait until it breaks itself."

"id": "announcer_enemy_specialskill_12_1", "dlg": "I expect that the enemy will commence a powerful attack soon. It is time to face the fear."

"id": "announcer_enemy_specialgimmick_12_1", "dlg": "An odd behavior has been detected among the entities. I don't expect that its actions will diverge from the usual predictions, but you would do well to prepare yourself nonetheless."

"id": "announcer_advatk_physical_12_1", "dlg": "You have broken your enemy with an effective attack. I must also inform you that a machine does not make light use of flattery."

"id": "announcer_disadvatk_physical_12_1", "dlg": "That physical attack was profoundly ineffective. I was unaware that remembering and reminding you of the strengths and weaknesses of each and every enemy was a part of my responsibilities."

"id": "announcer_advatk_attr_12_1", "dlg": "That was a precise reading of your enemies' weaknesses. I am glad that your capabilities meet my expectations."

"id": "announcer_disadvatk_attr_12_1", "dlg": "Your decision to attack the enemy with an ineffective attack has extended the estimated time of suppression. I see now that it is difficult for the manager to remember every little bit of information. I will update my data accordingly."

"id": "announcer_enemy_specialbuff_12_1", "dlg": "The enemies are preparing to press their advantage. They won't be much of a threat as long as our allies can stick to your strategies and follow my directions."

"id": "announcer_enemy_specialdebuff_12_1", "dlg": "The entity is at a disadvantage. Let us exploit this opportunity."

"id": "announcer_ally_specialbuff_12_1", "dlg": "The employees are at an advantage. I await your effective exploitation of this opportunity. A machine is always destined to wait, after all."

"id": "announcer_ally_specialdebuff_12_1", "dlg": "The employees are at a disadvantage. This does not change the fact that I am an AI of unparalleled competence."

"id": "announcer_enemy_destroy_12_1", "dlg": "One of the critical enemy parts has been destroyed. Perhaps this is an opportunity for a focused attack."

"id": "announcer_enemy_destroy_12_2", "dlg": "One of the entities' parts has been destroyed. I suggest focusing on attacking that enemy in order to finish this battle with maximum efficiency."

"id": "announcer_enemy_destroy_12_3", "dlg": "The entity has suffered heavy, localized damage… But I will save the compliments until the entity is defeated."

"id": "announcer_round_takebigdmg_12_1", "dlg": "They have dealt a critical blow to one of your employees. However, as you well know, we will move forward and only forward. There is no need to cast your gaze upon those that cannot be recovered."

"id": "announcer_round_takebigdmg_12_2", "dlg": "One or more of your employees are critically wounded, but do not lose your heart over it. With every death, our company grows. After all, you once told me that… sometimes, those that are forgotten can be the more beautiful."

"id": "announcer_round_givebigdmg_12_1", "dlg": "You have dealt a fatal blow to your enemies. I have always told you that you are much more capable than you originally perceived yourself to be. And I am never wrong."

"id": "announcer_round_givebigdmg_12_2", "dlg": "A successful strike. It is too early to pop the champagne, but it may be a good idea to cheer for the deceased in memoriam of their noble sacrifices."

"id": "announcer_multikillenemy_12_1", "dlg": "An employee has made a rather notable contribution to this suppression. Perhaps you could compliment them for the sake of improving efficiency. It does not need to be heartfelt, of course."

"id": "announcer_equip_12_1", "dlg": "I am Angela, your advisor and secretary. My role as an AI is to assist you in adjusting to your new workplace. It’s a pretty name for an AI, wouldn’t you say so?"

"id": "announcer_neglect_12_1", "dlg": "This awkward silence must be alleviated. Here is the weakest witticism from my humor repository. Because it is the weakest witticism, I will keep it shrimple.\n… That was the joke."

#angela #limbus company #announcer lines

[crepes-suzette-373]

Ichiji being "secretly a thug"

Even though he acts the most emotionless and really stiff, I get the impression Ichiji is kind of meant to be that trope of someone who looks like a statue and super elite normally but when nobody's looking they're either the biggest slob or just a gangster.

Look at the boys' clothes:

Yonji and Niji wear their shirts tucked in with belts like nerds. Ichiji doesn't.

Same thing with their "party clothes". Niji and Yonji wears fancy formal stuff like Judge, Ichiji kind of looks like he just rolled out of bed and put on a cloak on top. And plus his tattoo??? Tattoos are typically seen as "rebellious".

Well. Credits to @sangerie for mentioning that Ichiji looks absolutely pissed when they got stuck in the candy and he was berating Judge for looking really lame when they were at gunpoint. This prompted me to check the raws again, and... yeah, he absolutely broke character and his thug came out.

So I once mentioned that the way you can tell Ichiji's the one talking is because he's the only one with more polite speech, while Niji and Yonji talks more casually. In this one scene, he "broke" and talks thug.

The parts I marked in the speech bubbles are typical identifiers marking informal or crude speech.

The one marked in red is the ending particle -ze, usually used for emphasis. -ze is considered rough and almost rude, and based on what I saw among Japanese fans, this is usually associated with Niji (who most agrees talks like a thug a lot).

The fan translation got this slightly better, as they had translated that as "you look pathetic". 見苦しい is "unsightly". Added with the -ze ending, yes, translated as "you look pathetic" is appropriate.

The part marked in blue, that says "we're stuck in candy". He says "stuck" with gachi gachi ガチガチ. This is a "sound effect" of something freezing (or "turning solid" in general). Describing things with sound effects is also informal speech.

The one marked in green, translated as "there's no hope for us" (the original phrasing is "absolutely can't be saved"). Here he's saying "can't be saved" as tasukaranee 助からねェ. The formal form should have been tasukaraNAI 助からない. Ichiji doesn't usually use the rougher sounding -nee ending.

Example Yonji using -nee (green), and also Niji using the -ze (blue):

Ichiji don't normally do that.

Edit: I cannot 100% confirm for sure that it was Ichiji talking in this drinking scene, so I will not present it as "proof".

Also, I know I'm always saying I try to be careful not to jump the gun when it comes to visuals, but Ichiji's face here does not look like a smile. That's a sneer. A smirk, at best. Coupled with how he talks in a way that's completely "breaking character", he appears to be so angry that he's just not even bothering to hide is inner thug.

We did see that he seems pretty temperamental as a kid. He's probably putting up the polite act as "the crown prince", and his "true nature" is actually the gangster one.

#one piece #germa 66 #vinsmoke brothers #vinsmoke ichiji #ichiji #vinsmoke family #vinsmoke #vinsmoke siblings #analysis #language

[chaotic-archaeologist]

hey so I've been transcribing/typing up my grandma's line-a-day diaries from 1937-1943. it's mostly for my mom and aunts and so on, and of course they're mostly about teen flings and skating rinks and movies and so on. but I've seen posts on here, including yours, about historians being interested in even very mundane journals. so I guess basically the question is, how can I/my mom get the typed up versions into the hands of someone who would find them useful in a historical sense?

Historians are absolutely interested in seemingly mundane records of the past! However, any interest from an institution is probably going to be in the physical documents themselves, rather than a transcription. I don't doubt that you've done a careful job, but the reality is that the pages your grandmother wrote in will contain vastly more information than you could ever hope to record—penmanship, the paper itself, the kind of pen that was used, residue, etc.

If you are willing to part with the primary source documents, I'm sure than an institution willing to take them would also be happy to get copies of your transcriptions, but I think it is unlikely that they would be interested in solely the typed up versions.

Most institutions have some sort of theme/mission for their collection. Maybe that's 1960s counter-culture, women of 19th century America, immigrant experiences, women's suffrage(political movements, time periods, specific events, etc.).

The best way to find an institution willing to take the diary is to identify themes that come up in your grandmother's writing, and then search for collections that are dedicated to that theme. Then you can reach out to the archivists and/or curators and see if they'd be interested in accessioning the diary. You might need to be prepared for them to say no—the curation crisis is real, and storage space is in constant demand.

There's also no guarantee that giving the diary to a collection will mean it becomes part of research. It would need to be cataloged, and then found by the right person doing the right research. Your transcriptions might help with this.

However, if you'd rather hold on to the diary—which is totally understandable—you could publish the typed entries on your own website. If you go that route, try to do your best to tag/denote any of the themes and events your grandmother wrote about to better the chances of it showing up in an internet search. It's also possible that an institution might be interested in helping with/platforming some sort of internet presence, so it doesn't hurt to ask.

Here are some links to previous posts I've made about keeping a diary. Looking through the notes might also be helpful.

How to write a diary for future historians

What should I write about?

If anyone else has advice, please feel free to chime in! This isn't exactly my area of expertise, so I'm always happy to be corrected.

-Reid

#he speaks #journaling #diary #donating diaries

[justagalwhowrites]

Beskar Doll - Ch. 10: Leverage

A plan is taking shape but first, you and The Mandalorian need leverage. A continuation of Beskar Doll Ch. 1-9 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, light smut (FINALLY! Dry humping, just a lot of it). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

Length: 7K

The trek to the city wasn’t nearly as long on a speeder bike as it would have been on foot. For one, getting down the mountain was a whole hell of a lot quicker when you could travel straight down and not take it at an easy incline. Din was at the helm and you were wrapped around his waist. You diligently kept your eyes closed, worried that watching the trees that you could hear whizzing past your head would make you sick. Your pack was strapped securely to your back, planning to set up camp just outside the city overnight with Keci joining you both tomorrow. 

She’d told you some of what went on in the city, things she suspected weren’t totally legal or were, at least, questionable. You had an idea of where to start after you left your speeder outside the city in a place that seemed safe.  

You’d never navigated a city of this size with the Mandalorian by your side. You were used to blending in, taking advantage of being small and unobtrusive, just raising a hood here or putting on a wrap there to help blend in and not jump out as a familiar sight after tailing someone for hours. A Mandalorian didn’t blend in. 

Instead, it was like the waters of people flowing down the streets parted for you, giving the armored man a wide berth. When you’d glance back to him, you saw him doing the same thing he’d done on Nevarro - never looking in one direction for too long, always on guard for something to jump out and attack at any time. 

After a while of not being able to move through the place the way you liked, you pulled Din aside. 

“I think we need to split up for a bit,” you said. You could almost feel him frown at you. It was funny, you’d never seen his face but you were sure he was doing it behind the metal. “You’re a little too… bold. I can’t sneak into anywhere with you here.” 

“No one’s taking a shot at you with me here, either,” he replied. “And you can’t collect or do anything with intel if you’re dead.” 

“I’m very good at not getting killed when gathering information,” you assured him. You weren’t sure why he seemed to care quite so much. Yes, you were friends now. And there was the added intimacy that came with having traveled together in such close quarters. But this was just part of the job he’d accepted - his code should make it so he’d want to do whatever it took to get it done. “Believe it or not, I did this for years - more than a decade - before I even met you, with way bigger assholes than some Spice runners and gangsters. I’ll be fine.” 

He looked around, over your head, for a moment before looking back down to you. 

“I don’t like it.” 

You sighed. 

“I’ll meet you here in three hours,” you said, eyebrows raised as you waited for him to agree. 

He looked down at you for a long moment before he sighed. 

“Fine,” he pulled a com link off his belt and pressed it to your hand. “Anything happens - and I mean anything - I come get you.” 

You gave him a smile, a nod and slipped into the crowd, feeling his eyes on you until he was out of sight. 

It was much easier when you didn’t have more than six feet of armor behind you. It only took half an hour of navigating the seedier parts of the city when you easily identified a place that seemed to have a stream of people flowing into a nondescript door. You slipped inside, poking around. It didn’t take long for you to find that it was an underground casino, with sabacc tables and slot machines that looked so old they probably pre-dated the Empire. In the middle, through doors that were heavily guarded, was a fighting ring. You winced as you watched two men brawl. It was painful enough to see them beating each other but it was worse when you realized both men were wearing shock collars. One stopped hitting the other - who lay limp on the mat below him - looking off to an unseen force for permission to step away. You saw the metal at his neck spark and his body seize before he went back to beating the man on the ground. 

It was terrible but it’s exactly what you needed. You tried to unobtrusively take a picture.

You worked your way deeper into the establishment, trailing people as they went about their business, listening closely when they said names or mentioned something that sounded like someone had control. You stayed close when you heard the word Spice, doing everything you could to stay unseen, just blend into the background. At one point, you paused at one of the slot machines and pretended to play to listen in on a conversation, one that gave you a specific name. You noted it and stayed close to the person who seemed to know most, following a few paces behind them. You’d thought you’d been doing well until you turned a corner and ran smack into his chest. 

“Well, well, well,” the man looked down at you, his head cocked and a smile spreading on his sharp face. “I have a little stalker.” 

“I’m sorry,” you stammered in Chandrilan. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. I’m lost, can you help me find my way out?” 

He grabbed your face, his fingers digging into your skin, the force enough that it threatened to break your jaw. 

“Surely you don’t think I’m that stupid, girl,” he snarled, putting his face close to yours. “I know you were listening. You’ve been slinking through here for hours.” 

“I’m sorry,” you switched to Basic, straining to talk around his grip on your face. “I’m just… I’m looking for my dad, OK? He left weeks ago, the money is gone, please, my baby brother is starving and he has a habit of losing everything at the tables. I thought… maybe he’d lost so much that you had him.” 

He searched your eyes as though that would tell him the truth. He released your jaw. 

“What’s his name?” He asked, pulling a data pad from his side. You blinked. 

“Perro Obeu,” you said, making it up on the spot. He entered the name and looked at a list. 

“He’s not here,” he said, putting the data pad down. “And if you know what’s good for you, you won’t be here either.” 

“I won’t,” you said quickly. “Thank you.” 

You felt his eyes on you as you left and you tried to move fast enough that you got out before there was trouble but not so fast that you drew further attention to yourself. You paced yourself until you were a few hundred steps from the entrance and you broke into a run, immediately cutting down a road you hadn’t gone done before and grabbing the com link from your pocket. 

“Change of plan,” you said into it quickly. “Meet me at the market we passed, east side.” 

You flicked it off and shoved it into your pocket before you spotted a spout you could scale on a building. You climbed it quickly, scrambling onto the roof. You stayed put and watched as, a moment later, men from the casino came prowling down the alley. You looked around, spotting the clearest path across the roof line. 

“Maker dammit,” you muttered to yourself, steeling yourself before running and jumping onto the next closest building. You stumbled, having to tuck and roll before getting back to your feet and doing it again. You were too short to be really good at this, the distance too great to be really doable for someone with legs your length. The speed you had to move with was reckless, your feet catching and sending you sprawling so much that your hands were scratched and bloodied. Eventually, the market was in view and you went to the edge of the building you were on, looking for something you could climb down. There wasn’t anything you could see, but there was an awning over the entrance to the shop you were on top of that was less than 20 feet down. 

“Fuck,” you muttered, climbing over the side of the building, taking a deep breath, and letting yourself drop. You landed with a clatter on the metal, the people on the street looking up at you with shocked expressions, but you didn’t see the men from the casino. The awning, at least, was only 10 feet off the ground, and you jumped off the side of it into the only open ground you could find, pressing through the crowd and waiting until the people who’d seen your acrobatics were out of sight to pull your hood up. 

Din found you a minute later, taking your elbow and pulling you onto a quiet side street. 

“What in the Maker was that?” He demanded. 

“I picked up a tail,” you replied with a sigh, lowering your hood. “But I think I ditched them…” 

Something about his demeanor changed, his whole body suddenly rigid. You frowned as his hand slowly, gently, went to your chin. He turned your face so he could see your skin in different lights, the hand not touching you slowly clenching into a fist. 

“Who did this?” He asked. You frowned deeper. 

“Did what?” 

“Hurt you,” it sounded as though he was straining to speak through gritted teeth. “There are bruises on your face. Who did it.” 

“Oh,” you winced. “Yeah, I drew some unwanted attention just before I picked up the tail. It’s nothing, and definitely worth it because I got good intel. I have enough leverage, I think…” 

“I should have gone with you,” he cut you off. You drew back, surprised. “No one would have done this if I was there.” 

“I’ve had way worse than some bruising,” you said, trying to reassure him. You held up your bloodied hands. “I did worse to myself, see? Trust me. It’s worth the price. Except I’ll need some makeup to cover this with to pull off tomorrow’s plan… We’ll have to find a stand at the market and quick, I should get out of here in case the tail picks me up again.” 

Din stood there, his body caging you in. 

“I promise,” you said. “It’s fine.” 

You ducked below his arm and put your hood back up, stopping at the first stand you found that sold makeup. You quickly made your purchase, the Mandalorian following you like a shadow, before you made your way back to your speeder and set up camp. You gathered your thoughts and your information, preparing for the next day. Your entire plan hinged on it. 

***

Din was sure, now, that you’d be the end of him. It was as though you’d taken part of him for yourself, like you were walking around with a vital piece and he couldn’t do a damn thing to keep it safe anymore. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so angry as when he’d seen your bruised skin. He’d known he should have gone with you. It felt like you should be within his line of sight all the time. It was the only way to know you were safe and he needed you to be safe - more, it seemed, than he needed anything else. Certainly more than he needed sleep.

Which is how he found himself standing guard as you slept, curled up on the ground under every blanket in the pack and still shivering because you couldn’t afford to risk a fire. He’d said he’d wake you for second watch but he wasn’t going to. He needed less sleep than you did and he didn’t think he could rest right now if he tried. Just like on Hosnian Prime, someone had hurt you when he’d been so close but too far to stop it. What good was all he could do if he couldn’t keep you safe? 

But you’d seemed unbothered. You slept soundly, no sign of the nightmares he knew could plague you. He’d seen your scars. He knew that you’d survived far worse than anything that had happened to you today. But you shouldn’t need to. 

You were upset with him when you woke up with the sunrise but he just shrugged. 

“You’re the one who has to convince the local government to provide support,” he replied. “I just have to stand there.” 

“You have to get us back to the settlement,” you glared at him. “Maker knows I can’t drive through trees like that.” 

He laughed. 

“I’ll get us there,” he replied. 

He watched you get ready, using the side of the speeder bike as a mirror to doctor your face and style your hair before changing into the dress you’d packed. He’d seen you in it once before, on the Razor Crest, when you’d climbed out of your hiding place in between crates just to prove your point. The dress had almost enraged him then but he could appreciate it now. It was quietly elegant, demanding respect while highlighting your figure. It was a dress you’d leverage as a diplomat. 

Keci met you about half a click outside the gates, giving you a once over. 

“You clean up well,” she said. 

“Have to look the part,” you shrugged before settling into the business at hand. “Let me do all the talking unless I indicate otherwise. Keci, I’ll ask you to seal the agreement on behalf of the settlement. Mando, I probably won’t ask anything of you at all. There are going to be tense moments, I’m basically going to be blackmailing a politician. It has to be done right. I need all the control of the situation I can get so please don’t intervene.” 

Keci looked concerned. 

“I’ve done this many times,” you said to her gently. “Trust me. I’m going to get us what we want. You just have to let me work.” 

You turned and led the way to the city. 

“Can she do it?” Keci lowered her voice to him, frowning. Din looked ahead to you, carrying yourself like the queen he knew you’d stood in for. 

“She can,” he said. “I’ve seen it.” 

The three of you made your way to the center of the city, finding the government building with ease. No one questioned you as you just walked past the guards, head held high, almost daring anyone to stop you. Eventually, you came to the governor’s office, stopping at a desk outside his door. 

“Can I help you?” The man sitting at the desk got to his feet. A few guards trailed in after the group. You had drawn some attention, after all. Just no one who was brave enough to try to stop you. 

“I’m here to speak with Governor Chadik on behalf of the Bisneth Settlement,” you said. 

“Do you have an appointment?” He asked, looking down at his desk. 

“Urgent diplomatic matters shouldn’t require an appointment,” you replied. The man frowned. 

“I’m not sure that he’s available…” he hedged. Din glanced down at you. 

“If Governor Chadik would like to keep his position within the New Republic, he should become available.” 

The man’s eyes shot up, looking at you, trying to call your bluff. You didn’t waver. 

“Right this way,” he said, gesturing you toward the door behind him. 

Keci looked to Din and he gave a stiff nod as the two of them followed behind you into the grand office. A middle-aged Balosar man sat behind his desk as his assistant came and whispered in his ear, nodding and stiffening in his seat. You gave a strong, knowing smile. 

“Please,” he said as his assistant stepped back. “Come in, take a seat. Can I get you anything?” 

“No, thank you,” you said, stepping forward, your hands clasped in front of you. The man came out from behind his desk to meet you in the middle of the room, leaning down to kiss both of your cheeks. Din stiffened. 

“Always a pleasure to hear from the settlements,” he said, gesturing to the seats at the front of his desk. You took the middle one as he went around the back. “I’m Governor Chadik, with whom do I have the pleasure?” 

“Mesh’la,” you replied. Din felt his stomach clench at the sound of Mando’a on your lips, your pronunciation perfect. “I’m here with my guard, the Mandalorian, and Keci, the mayor of the Bisneth Settlement. I am here on behalf of the people of the settlement, people that are suffering on your watch.” 

“Now, I’m sure that’s an exaggeration,” he began, but you cut him off. 

“Governor,” you gave him an almost condescending smile. “Do you really think a New Republic emissary intervenes when there aren’t serious concerns? Do you believe the New Republic wastes time and resources on mundane, minor issues?” 

“No,” he said quickly, laughing lightly. “No, of course not…” 

“Good,” your smile became slightly more genuine. “I’d hate for you to not have a clear understanding of my role here. And your role, as well.” 

“Of course,” he said quickly. “And I can assure you, we do everything we can to ensure the welfare of the people here…” 

You held out your hand and Din handed you the data pad he had at his side. 

“I am concerned, Governor,” you frowned, looking down at the data pad. “That you don’t. You certainly don’t seem to do everything in your power and you don’t seem to understand your role, either…” 

“It’s a big world, Mesh’la,” he said, grinding his teeth. “I’m not saying there wasn’t something that was missed but…” 

“Well then your administration has missed an awful lot,” you said. “From Bisneth Settlement alone, a dozen citizens have been taken and enslaved by Spice runners from the Zottex Spice Operation, an organization that’s recognized as a criminal syndicate galaxy wide. The operation has cut off all trade routes to the settlement, exposing citizens there to a risk of starvation. Are you intending to participate in the flesh trade, Governor?” 

“No!” He sputtered before regaining his composure. “No, of course not…” 

“Excellent,” you said, scrolling further on the data pad. “Can you explain why you’ve allowed this to happen on your watch?” 

“The settlement is remote,” he ground is teeth. “They are largely cut off from the rest of our society, by their choice I might add. It leaves them vulnerable, there is only so much I can do with the resources available to me…” 

“Of course,” you nodded kindly, cocking your head questioningly at him. “So explain the happenings right here, in your capital city.” 

“Excuse me?” He said, getting to his feet. Din went to stand, but you threw an arm out, stopping him. The man’s eyes darted to the Mandalorian, metal restrained by flesh. 

“He will step in if I allow it,” you said, meeting the man’s eyes. “He’s a Mandalorian. There is no hiding from him. If I say you should be taken into custody, you will be. Please, have a seat Governor.” 

He ground his teeth again before dropping forcefully into his chair and leaning across the desk. He closed his eyes for a moment relaxing his jaw, before he spoke again. 

“There is nothing happening in my city,” he replied. 

“So you’re unaware of the illegal casino only a few blocks away from here?” You asked, bringing up an image of the fighting ring on your data pad. “The one that includes slave ring fighting, run by the Zottex Cartel? Because what it looks like to me is that you’re getting kick-backs from a Spice operation, allowing them to capture citizens, starve citizens and profit from getting your citizens addicted to an illegal substance. Is that not what’s going on?” 

He looked almost murderous. Din’s hand moved to his blaster. 

“Now, Governor Chadrik,” you smiled gently. “I know you’re a busy man. It would be impossible for you to know everything that was happening on your planet at any given time.” 

“Of course it is,” he seethed. 

“But,” you sighed. “I think, given the New Republic’s current stance on the Spice trade and the increased crack down on slavery in the Outer Rim, you’d have a hard time making it out of this with your job intact… Unless you do something to make it better.” 

“What are you asking for?” He asked. His hands were in fists on his desk. You smiled broadly. 

“Nothing that’s outside your capacity to give,” you replied, sliding the data pad to him. “I have drawn up this agreement between Bisneth Settlement and the Zottex Cartel. We just ask that we have the full backing of the Bakuran government in the enforcement of this agreement.” 

“You really think you can get the cartel to come to an agreement with a backwater settlement,” he hissed. 

“Yes,” you said smoothly. “With the right incentives. We just ask for enforcement aid, a reasonable request that you should be fulfilling anyway. Also, you end the slave fighting. We can turn a blind eye to the casino.” 

“How do you expect me to get Zottex to shut down the fighting?” He demanded. You shrugged. 

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” You said. “But if you don’t want word of it to get back to the core government, you’ll make it happen. I can’t return to Coruscant and not report it if it’s still happening. Honestly, Governor, I’m doing you a favor with this offer.” 

He looked at the data pad. 

“I don’t have the man-power to support this level of enforcement,” he said. 

“Yes you do,” you replied. “The New Republic has added 8 million credits to this world’s security budget in the last 2 years. You can afford additional forces. Unless you’d like me to examine where those funds have gone while I’m on world?” 

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” he grabbed the data pad off the desk and scrawled his signature. “You’ll never get Zottex to agree.” 

“Good thing that’s not your problem then, isn’t it?” You smiled. He almost threw the data pad at you but you took it gently from his hands and handed it to Keci. 

“Mayor,” you said. “Please sign on behalf of your settlement.” 

She was looking at you, somewhat awed, but took the data pad and obeyed. You showed the governor before pressing a few keys. 

“I just transferred a copy of this agreement to you for your records,” you said. “And, of course, we will be filing this as an official agreement with the hall of records on Coruscant. We will let you know when the agreement goes into effect. In the meantime, you have 4 days to end the slave fighting. Do you have any questions?” 

He just glared at you. 

“Excellent,” you smiled, handing the data pad back to Din before facing the Governor again. “It was nice to meet you, Governor Chadrik. I look forward to you fulfilling your pact with your people. Best of luck to you.” 

He didn’t say anything as you led the way from the room, Din watching him until he knew he wasn’t going to shoot you. 

“Maker be damned,” Keci hissed as you left the building. 

“Wait until we’re the speeders,” you said quickly, your head still high as you made your way through town. 

You found the bikes in the trees and Keci threw herself around your neck, laughing, almost giddy. 

“I didn’t really think you could do it!” She clutched onto you. You just smiled and patted her back. “I can’t believe it, we’re going to get the help we need!” 

“We’re only half way there,” you said, stepping back gently. “We still have to back Zottex into a corner.” 

“I know,” she said, still smiling hugely. “But I think we can. I know we can. You’re not really an emissary from the New Republic, are you? What if he tries to get out of it?” 

“And what,” you shrugged. “Sends a message to Coruscant saying ‘hey, just checking, but someone called me on my shit, can you confirm she’s with you?’ He’s going to keep this as quiet as possible. And you don’t have to be an emissary to file something with the hall of records. We can log it, it will be binding. We just have to get Zottex to sign.” 

“We can,” she said quickly. “We will.” 

You rode on the back of Din’s speeder, your head between his shoulders at his back, your arms around his waist, legs around his hips. He let himself enjoy the feeling of it - the feeling of someone who could bring the Governor of a planet to his knees wrapped around him. 

Keci spread the word the second she was back, with what seemed like the entirety of the settlement pouring from their homes to greet you on the street as you walked back to where you were staying. Someone started playing music and you’d only made it up the path to where you were staying when someone pressed dishes of food into your hands. 

“I feel bad for taking resources,” you said, sitting with your back against the wall as Din started a fire. The sun was going down, but the celebration in the streets of the settlement was just getting started but the two of you were far enough away that it was quiet, distant. 

“Think you earned it. Besides, trade will start again soon,” Din said, sitting across from you. “How’s your face?” 

“Fine,” you waved him off. “Barely even feel it.” You took a bite of food and closed your eyes, moaning happily. “Fuck, almost forgot what not-rations taste like. Maker, that’s good.” 

Din laughed and your eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, I’m being so rude,” you said, moving out from the wall and turning to face the corner. He paused. “There, I won’t look. You should eat, it’s so good.” 

He watched you for a moment. He wanted to ask you to turn back around, having more fun watching you enjoy yourself, but thought better of it. Instead, he removed his helmet and took a bite. 

“You were right,” he said. “This is…” 

“So good, right?” You said when he couldn’t find the words. He smiled. 

“So good.” 

After dinner, you strategized until it looked like you were going to collapse and Din convinced you to lie down, the faint strains of music still filtering in through the window. Again, he waited until he was sure you were asleep before he silently removed his helmet, holding you close enough that he could feel your skin until he couldn’t keep his eyes open, putting the helmet back on before falling asleep beside you. 

*** 

The giddiness of pulling off your plan clung to you all the way back to the settlement and all evening long, the happiest it seemed you’d been in ages. It was like your whole body was burning with it, a pleasant tingling spreading through your limbs and your chest, consuming you. You’d been about ready to fall asleep sitting up with Din convinced you to lie down, something you were happier to agree to when he took his place next to you. 

The feeling only seemed to grow as you slept, though, and the ache inside you deepened as you dreamed of the most stable presence in your life, all metal and soothing baritone. What it would be like to touch him, feel him, the need twisting and gnawing in your sleep. 

“Mesh’la,” his voice, slightly strangled, reached you, and you woke with a gasp. You were in his arms but closer than you’d ever been. One leg was hitched over his hip, your core pressed against him, suddenly acutely aware of his hard length against you through his flight suit. His arms were around you, loosely, like he was afraid to touch you, but your chest was pressed tight against him. 

“I’m…” you started, panting for breath but not fully understanding why. Your eyes searched where you knew his to be below the helmet, about to apologize when you realized that he was breathless, too. 

He lifted a gloved hand, tentatively, brushing your hair back from your face. You took a deep, shaky breath, the ache between your legs growing at the feeling of him pressed against you. 

“What do you want, Mesh’la?” He asked, his voice trembling. “Tell me what you want, what you need.” 

You groaned quietly, pressing yourself closer to him, somehow inching you closer to relief while spreading the ache through your body. 

“You,” you whispered. “I want… I need… you.” 

He took the hand from your face and took yours. 

“Help me take this off,” he said, still panting for breath. You obeyed, hand trembling as you pulled the glove from him. His fingers traced your hand, his skin feeling too soft for someone who lived the life he did, before running up your arm back to your face. His fingers drifted into your hair and he moaned softly, twisting in it at the base of your skull before pulling your head to his helmet and rocking his hips against you. 

A strangled groan spilled from your lips as you moved against him, working yourself over him while the hand that was below your body clutched at your lower back, pressing you so tightly to him you were afraid you’d burst. 

But you needed it, needed the closeness, needed to feel as much of him as you possibly could, the ache threatening to consume you otherwise. His ungloved hand eventually left your face, trailing to your chest and running over your breasts beneath your shirt, softly cupping you as he pressed his length against you harder. 

His pace increased, his hand running down your body - leaving your breasts with a strangled moan - to your hip, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh as he pulled you closer. You knew, if you were both naked, he’d be buried inside you like this. But instead it felt like he was trying to climb inside your skin and you were desperate to let him, wanted to feel him that close to you like you’d never wanted anything else. 

“Cyare,” he moaned as you clung to him, doing everything in your power to bring him closer. The hand on your leg moved again, this time slipping up your shirt to your back, his fingertips digging into you in a way that would probably hurt if you weren’t so desperate for release, for him. You moaned, biting your lip, nearing choking on the aching pleasure. “Tell me what you need… fuck, so soft…” 

“Just you,” you managed, hardly able to string two words together. All you could think of was the rising pleasure, the tightness building in your core, how you weren’t sure it would be possible to ever be close enough to this man to be truly satisfied. “Please, Din…” 

He thrust up against you, almost rabid with need, hitting you just right so that the band that had been tightening inside you snapped and you came with a strangled cry. He grabbed you with both hands and pulled your hips against him with all his strength, gasping as he came undone, his orgasm so powerful you could feel him throbbing through your clothes. 

“Fuck, Cyare,” he moaned, all the tension leaving his body as he went limp beside you, his grip on you easing, both of you panting for breath. You stayed like that, your body against his, raw from the intensity of your release, for a few minutes. His ungloved hand shakily came to your face, cupping your cheek gently. You pressed your face into his palm, luxuriating in the fact that you were touching him, his skin. “Are you OK?”

“Yeah,” you said. Your voice was shaky. “Are you?” 

“Yes. I’ve wanted…” he paused, his breathing straining to return to normal. He ran his fingers through your hair. “I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.” 

Your hand covered his ungloved one, lacing your fingers through his and tugging his palm to your lips as press a kiss into it. His breathing stuttered again. 

“Good,” you said softly. “Because I wouldn’t want to be in that alone.” 

He held you close, your leg still over his hip, your face still against his helmet, until you both fell asleep again, completely wrapped up in each other. 

You half expected to have dreamed it, for him to not be there when you woke, but he was. Your leg was still over him, his ungloved hand was tangled in your hair and curled around the back of your neck, his thumb gently tracing your throat, your forehead against the bottom of his helmet. The ache in you from the night before lingered beneath the surface, hazy morning light coloring the room around you a soft orange. You gently ran your fingers along his side, where his skin was only covered by his flight suit and there was no armor between you. 

“Doll,” he said softly, his voice low. It made you jump, snatching your hand back into yourself for a moment before you slowly, cautiously reached back to his side. He wouldn’t be holding you like this if he didn’t want you to touch him, right? 

“Yes?” You breathed, resisting the urge to move your hips against him. 

“What do you want?” His voice was almost a growl, heat and desperation in it. 

“I thought I’d made that clear last night,” you said, softly, slowly rocking your hips against him. He groaned. 

“Good.” 

His hand disentangled from your hair and almost flew to your leg, pulling it higher on his body so he could press himself closer to you. You buried your mouth in his shoulder to muffle your strangled cry as he almost viciously clung to you, the heat that had been present in your body curling between your legs. You abandoned any pretense you had, arms wrapping around him and pulling him tightly against you, your body crushing against his muscle and armor. 

You couldn’t remember ever needing something - anything - the way you needed this. Like there was a fist in your chest, squeezing your heart so it threatened to burst until you found relief. The arm that was below you suddenly wrapped tightly around your waist and Din rolled onto his back, taking you with him so you were on top of him. His hands moved quickly to your hips, reminding you of how he moved when fighting - exacting, purposeful. He pulled you down against him and you almost collapsed on him from the shock of that rolled through you, the angle exposing unknowingly neglected nerves and flesh that relished in the contact. 

His hands guided your movements, fingers clinging to you, working your body over his in long, full, aching strokes. You shuddered against him, your head falling weakly to his, the cool metal feeling almost as intimate as the bare skin of his hand as his fingers brushed against your exposed flesh over the top of your pants. He thrust himself up against you, fast and hard and reckless, and you groaned, pressing your lips into his covered shoulder just to put them somewhere on him. 

Din’s hands left your body for a moment, just long enough to pull off the other glove and cast it aside, before slipping them below your shirt and over your skin. With a moan, he pulled you down onto him, his hips meeting yours, the feeling of his bare hands on you heady and intense. 

You tried to steady yourself and have just a moment of lucidity, putting your hands on his shoulders and pushing him into the ground, leveraging yourself up and looking down at him. Your long hair was a curtain around you both and your eyes found his below his mask, feeling him there as you worked yourself against him harder, faster, your breaths coming in keening pants. His hands slid slowly up your body, the feeling of his skin on you leaving a trail of fire up your flesh. He moaned breathlessly when he reached your breasts, his soft touch standing in stark contrast to his sharp thrusts beneath you. You gasped his name as the tightness inside you neared its peak, bringing you higher and higher. 

“Fuck, Mesh’la,” he moaned. “You feel… Do it, take what you need…” 

You pressed yourself so hard against him it seemed like a miracle you didn’t break from it, working his hard length over your core until you came undone, your body going limp and hips stilling. His hands moved on you again, his hips still pushing up against your overwrought center, one going to the small of your back, the other wrapping around your middle, holding you so tight against him that you weren’t quite sure where you ended and he began, your whole body a raw nerve. He held onto you like you were all that mattered, the only thing keeping him alive, the only thing he’d ever needed. You felt his release overtake him, a strangled groan slipping from him as he gasped for breath and clutched you to him. You lay there, body limp on him, wondering how the fuck he could do this to you. 

It’s not like you were especially experienced - you’d only ever been with one person, war and a subsequent life in hiding not exactly giving you much time for things like romance. But you weren’t a total novice, either. Sex with Dagres had been good. Not that you knew a damn thing about it but you loved him and it felt right. But it never felt like this and you hadn’t even touched him, not really. You were both still fully clothed. 

“Cyare,” he said. His hand trembled as he found your face, the other slipped up your back, fingers gentle on your spine. Your lips brushed his thumb and he pulled your head to the base of his mask, sighting against you. You kissed the middle of his chest, against his armor. 

“What does that mean?” You asked softly. His hand stilled in the middle of your back, his palm large and warm. He was silent. After a moment, you decided to cut him a break, fighting to ignore the pang of rejection. “We should go, we have a lot of work to do.” 

***

All Din wanted was to hold onto you for a while longer. The absence of you stung as you went to get changed. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, listening as you just existed in the next room. It had been so long since he’d last touched someone but it felt like he couldn’t get close enough to you, no matter what he did. You were so soft, possibly the softest thing he’d ever held. He could almost imagine what it would be to sink into you, to feel you completely. It had been months since he’d last been with a woman and it had only ever been something quick to satisfy a need. Everything stayed on, he’d never touched someone the way he’d touched you. 

When he’d woken to you pressed against him, warm and desperate in your sleep, it took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t a dream. He should have woken you up the moment he knew what you were doing. But you felt too good and it consumed him. He could only wake you up when he couldn’t take it anymore, when he was so desperate to move against you that he had no other choice. 

He hadn’t meant to call you cyare. The word seemed to have slipped from him of its own accord, the only word he knew in any language that fit you. 

He wasn’t sure what to do now. He signed, getting to his feet and silently leaving the house before you emerged from the bedroom and walking down the path to the settlement. 

When you came down not long after, you didn’t say a word to him, barely glancing at him before finding Keci. 

The next thing he knew, you were climbing the tallest tree near the center of town. Din growled and stalked over to it, standing beside Keci as she looked up at you. 

“What’s she doing?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you keep climbing, the thin branches looking like they’d barely hold your weight. But you kept climbing. 

“Looking for a good siege point,” she glanced over at him. “She’s damn good.” 

“I know,” he muttered, still watching you. Your foot slipped and Din jumped - ready to do what he wasn’t quite sure - but you caught yourself. You were too high up. But you held onto the tree, surveilling the area before climbing back down, dropping beside Keci and landing deftly on your feet from more than 10 feet up. 

“I think I have it,” you said, nodding to her. “If we set up the meeting hall to withstand a siege, we can put the most vulnerable in there. We can work with the landscape around the outskirts and we’ll only need a few well-placed explosives. We can force them through a funnel point, have the defensible siege location. Once we pin them down, we can capture one or two major players and force the agreement.”

She nodded. 

“We have about two dozen strong fighters,” Keci said. “A handful more who are decent marksmen if we set them back…” 

“If we can make sure their numbers don’t overwhelm us,” you said. “I think that will be enough. But we need to force them into the funnel.” 

“On it,” Keci said, making for the central part of the settlement. You watched her go for a moment before glancing at him. 

“Yes?” You asked, voice cool. 

“Can you try harder to not get yourself killed?” He grumbled. 

“Sorry, Mando,” you said. “Wasn’t aware you cared.” 

He couldn’t think of anything to say. Instead, he just watched you leave. 

#fanfic #mandalorian fanfic #enemies to friends to lovers #din djarin #smut fic #slow burn #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian x female reader

[thatgirlwithasquid]

I was incredibly inspired by @eyedrinktwomp ’s ‘Oculus Argos’ article post because it was such a neat concept so I spent probably too many hours some time creating a leaflet for it!

this took me so long but it was so much fun. i really do think this is an awesome headcanon that would be so interesting to explore the consequences of!!

but here are the pages:

links to the pdfs are here and here if you want a better look, text written out below the cut

OCULUS ARGOS

Stay aware

Stay safe

Stay eye-free

information distributed by the V.C.C.A. on behalf of V.O.I.D.

SCIENTIFIC BREAKTHROUGH

Originally discovered in VOID 73, Oculus Argos has since been identified in over 680 voids post its identification by now renowned scientist, Dr Clipboard.

Although initially theorised to be a variation on the common but harmless spotted mushroom pox, vaccinations for the mushroom pox proved woefully ineffective during the infamous eye-pox epidemic of VOID 312. VOID 312 remains locked down to preserve the health and safety of wider VOID populations. Despite this, it is widely accepted to be the primary source of seasonal Oculus spores.

While theories over the origins of Oculus Argos are still widely disputed, one common theory amongst the medical science community is that the disease originated from notoriously dangerous and off-limits VOID 1. This would not be the first instance of a disease breaking free from the VOID's containment to plague masses of VOID citizens.

Whether this theory holds water or not, more research is desperately needed to provide more accurate early-stage diagnosis, a more effective treatment, and a working vaccine to prevent another epidemic of this debilitating disease.

READ MORE on this topic in Dr Clipboard's autobiography: "The Spores Stared at Me, and I Stared Back"

KNOW THE SIGNS

If you have come into contact with an entity exhibiting eyes all over their body, there is a chance you might have contracted Oculus Argos, so it is important to be aware of the signs. (1)

Oculus Argos presents in three identifiable stages (see figure 1 for reference). Being able to identify these as early as possible is vital for reversal of they symptoms.

STAGE 1: eyes only on hands and arms. There will be minor itching and pain when touched.

STAGE 2: Oculus Argos spreads to the legs and some parts of the torso. Itching recedes, offering moderate relief, only to be replaced by headaches, fever and moderate to severe pain.

STAGE 3: eyes encompass the entire body. All previous symptoms either clear or worsen. Mortality rate us high in this stage, with brief relief often being followed by sharp return of all symptoms before total failure.

It should be noted that in 3.1% of Oculus Argos cases, patients exhibit rashes on their forearms pre-stage 1. These have since been identified as irritation in the microscopic openings that will develop into eyes.

RECEIVING HELP

Have you or a loved one started exhibiting symptoms of Oculus Argos? Well, good news; when caught in the early stages of progression, Oculus Argos can be reversed.

Just pop down to your local VOID PHARMACY or call a VOID call centre to be put in touch with a V.C.C.A. approved physician! From there they will help put together a treatment plan to reverse the effects. (2)

After stage 2 has begun (see figure 1) reversing is impossible. But don't fret, there are still options for you:

THE PIT

In collaboration with the V.C.C.A, VOID PHARMACUTICALS has created a one of a kind care facility specifically designed for Oculus Argos patients. Receive all the care you need at the bottom of VOID 324's infamous pit!

State of the art with all the technology needed to aid in your recovery or passing from Oculus Argos, tended to by top of the line robotic staff. Featuring all the comfort and care you have come to expect of VOID PHARMACUTICALS, all while being perfectly quarantined to keep other void citizens safe from your infection.

Open to patients from satge 2-3. (3)

a sponsored message:

"If you already have a later stage of Oculus Argos, make sure to apply eye cream, purchased from most convenience stores, before you come in contact with anyone else. We do not want this to continue to spread for the safety of the public." - V.O.I.D

We hope to see you in the pit soon!

STAYING SAFE

So, when do you need to be cautious?

Well, Oculus Argos spreads through spores that only evolved to survive in colder conditions. In the summer or if your VOID is always warm, then good news! You won't have to worry even if you do come across an entity showing the eyes that characterise this disease.

But in the winter, or in perpetually cold VOIDs you should never approach sufferers of Oculus Argos unless absolutely necessary. If the patient is someone you know, strongly encourage them to apply their protective cream to limit spore production, and always be sure to never breathe the air around them.

Spore production is at its height in each patient from the duration of stage 2 through to the stabilisation (or death) of stage 3. Never approach entities of this stage as they are at their most contagious.

Try to encourage the entity to check themselves into The Pit (see page 3 for details). If the entity is being particularly stubborn and refusing to take the reasonable course of action to sign themselves up for a quarantine, be sure to call in to a VOID call centre and place a report. One of our Oculus Argos specialised enforcers will come and set the situation to rights. (4)

Mortality rates in Oculus Argos skyrocket to 56% after stage 2, so our priority here at the VOID Citizens Care Administration will always be to preserve the wellbeing of our healthy citizens first!

WORDS FROM OTHERS

Clarence B. Monster

"I JUST THINK THEY SHOULD ALL BE SHUT AWAY, THE LOT OF THEM. MY WIFE BROUGHT IT HOME FROM A COWORKER AND IF I'D HAD THE CHOICE TO THROW HER IN THE PIT BACK THEN, I WOULD'VE!"

Anonymous

"I think that the whole thing is horribly unethical. My whole family was forced into that so-called hospital and locked away. I didn't even get to say goodbye when they died, they didn't let any guests see them. And when I contracted Oculus Argos, I found out first hand how cold and uncaring the staff are, and how unsatisfactory the food is. It's not nearly enough to fuel a sustainable recovery. No wonder mortality is so high!"

Wow, what shining reviews! If there was anything to prove our faith in V.O.I.D, this is certainly it.

(1) approximately 13.21% or those who come in contact with an entity with Oculus Argos develop the condition

(2) whole or partial reversal of symptoms is not guaranteed

(3) if stage 1 reversal treatment fails, these patients will also be admitted to The Pit

(4) non-compliants may not be approved for release if difficult behaviour persists

#the world of mr plant #twomp #argos twomp

[familyabolisher]

sorry if you've already already answered this, but do you mind explaining your thoughts on anti-intellectualism (/the discourse surrounding it)? I'm trying to understand it but while I get how what is defined as intellectual is very selective etc, I took a lot of the discourse to be about how folks tend to ignore themes entirely for the literal, or not noticing obvious subtexual racism/propaganda and going 'it's not that deep' when folks point it out, the like.

maybe it's that I tend to hang around in sff circles bc stuff like that tends to proliferate there, and while I definitely think the mocking gets very over the top and cruel (+ ascribes a lot more importance to media than it has in reality) and I dislike the way folks seem to think it's a moral failure, from my perspective there is still things that are reasonable to criticise?

I'm genuinely asking this in good faith and trying to understand, sorry if there's something big/obvious I'm missing

i talked at length about my feelings on the discourse here; that post should cover most of what you're asking for, but to address your specific queries:

i understand what's meant by "[ignoring] themes entirely for the literal," but, to be blunt about it: i don't care! i have my way of engaging with what i like and you have yours, and if you're interested in my way then it's on me to keep the door open for you rather than sneering about how anyone who doesn't adhere to my preferred methodologies is beneath me. how we identify a reading that orients itself towards "themes" rather than the literal material of a text is already pretty incoherent and certainly not conclusive; many will argue that eg. writing fanfiction is fundamentally at odds with engaging with such 'themes,' but i don't see why that should be the case at all. my mantra for this kind of discourse is "worry about yourself"; discuss texts in the way you like to, and you'll probably encounter like-minded people who want to engage further, as well as interested parties who may not have thought about the approach you're taking before now but want to learn more. i think it's good to assume that we can't draw definitive conclusions about any one person's understanding of or approach to a text based on how we see them talk about it, and i think it's necessary to avoid making a character judgment based on a[n assumed] lack of xyz critical analysis skills.

& i talk about this in the linked post, but i think an appeal to an absence of 'intellectualism' wrt people refusing to engage with eg. racism in a text (or similar such bigotries) is obscurantist. it's not that people lack the intellectual capacity to engage with such criticisms and if they had these capabilities then they would be able to do so in a conscientious manner, else elite academic circles of literary studies would not invest significant time and effort in trivialising and dismissing readings of canonical works which speak frankly about their relationship to white supremacy. there are incredibly racist readings of texts which are wholly cohesive within the "intellectual" tradition of literary criticism; that tradition itself cannot be separated from the context of western imperialist hegemony from which it emerged, and nor can the critical practices which inform and perpetuate it. intellectualism alone has no explanatory power when talking about racist literature and racist readings of literature; it's a smokescreen behind which lie a handful of possible explanations that i touch on in the above post.

of course there are reasonable critiques to be made of which reading practices proliferate and which are sidelined, but "[anti]-intellectualism" is not an explanatory framework that i find actionable, because it is rooted in appeals to idealism rather than materialism.

#ask

[thezombieprostitute]

Sparks Fly - Part 5

Summary: After working as an engineer for Wilford & Gilliam Trust for several years you find evidence of seedy dealings and burned books. After turning in the evidence you find yourself in danger and seek help. You're taken into the protection of a mob family where you run into your high school best friend, Mace.

Word Count: ~1300

Warnings: Courtroom stress. Implied violence and attempted murder. Please let me know if I missed any.

Part 4 -- Part 6

Series Masterlist

The day of the testimony arrives way too quickly for you. You can barely eat anything that morning and only do so at Mace’s insistence. You’re already scared and don’t want the threat of vomiting making your nerves worse. 

He talks you through everything, emphasizing the security his people are gonna have looking out for you. “Barton’s gonna have an aerial view over the courthouse. GBH is gonna be in the crowds around the place, following any leads Barton gives him. And inside the courthouse is gonna be Nick.” He shows you a photo of Nick so you can search for him if you need to. “On top of that, Huffman’s taken care of the mole in his office and our intel guys have triple checked the rest of his team so the legitimate security force you have is going to protect you as well.”

You fight another wave of fear as you remember your first days in witness protection. The nonstop fear and seemingly never ending line of people wanting to kill you. Mace sees you tense and immediately pulls you in for a hug, gently kissing the top of your head, rubbing your arm.

“And after today,” you whisper, “do we know what’ll happen to me?”

“Teach managed to get you another week of being in this safehouse, pending emergency situations,” Mace tells you. “That way we can see if Wilford & Gilliam even have the resources to retaliate after everything.”

“They seem the type to spend their last penny on taking out someone who cost them so much.”

“Yeah, but at the same time, your testimony is going to do a lot of good for a lot of people hurt by their products, tactics and everything else,” Mace comforts. “I know it might not mean much to you, but you really are doing a lot of good with this. A major civil case, at the very least, is going to be able to use your testimony to give families some kind of retribution.” 

Mace had been talking with Barber, the Family’s lawyer, on a daily basis. He wanted to make sure that when he gave you information, comfort, it was backed up by someone who actually knew their stuff. Barber was quick to give Mace and Teach support for keeping you safe because of the good involved in taking down Wilford & Gilliam. There was a major class action lawsuit only able to go forward because of you. It affected several people in the Family’s territory which helped the push for more protection for you. 

You push yourself up, “I should probably get showered and dressed. Huffman’s gonna be here in an hour or so, right?”

“Right,” Mace confirmed. “And you know I wouldn’t let you leave with someone I didn’t trust to keep you safe.”

“Right,” you nod.

Mace is first to the courthouse. He’s not allowed on the text chain between either of your security teams but he is allowed to text if he sees something or someone questionable. He’s keeping an eye on the courthouse website’s calendar, making sure he knows if any changes happen. He’s nervous about the whole thing and grateful they don’t have good coffee or he’d be even more jittery. 

Once the proceedings begin, though, he calms down a bit. He’s in the back row of the right room at the right time. He takes a look around at the other people in the room, trying to memorize important identifiers in case identification is needed later. He’s practiced at making sure to not immediately look up when someone enters or leaves the room. He knows how to look like just another bored face. I’ve got this, he lets himself think. 

The room is far from empty, the giant conglomerate that is Wilford & Gilliam is on trial. The rows are occupied by victims and press alike. Because of that, he isn’t surprised when someone sits a little too close to him. What does surprise him is that he recognizes the signet ring on the person’s hand. Trying to not be obvious Mace looks as best he can from the corner of his eye but the guy is too tall. He needs a new angle. 

Thankfully that’s when you’re brought in, dressed in the business formal attire Teach had picked up for you. Your entry was the excuse he needed to look up and glance to his side, confirming his suspicions. Franco the Younger, hitman for Wilford & Gilliam. How the hell did he get past Barton and G? Mace wastes no time subtly pulling out his phone and texting a message to the team. 

He makes sure to keep looking forward, in case you need him, but his focus is on Franco, searching for any and all movement. The Franco’s were dedicated to their corporate overlords. All Mace knew was that they had no limits. They’d do whatever was needed to get their prey. They’re the ones that killed Curtis’s brother Edgar, eager to be rid of the competition for the favor of their CEO’s. The fact that Curtis could confirm some of the more heinous rumors about the brothers made Mace’s skin crawl.

His relief comes in the form of Nick taking the seat on the other side of Franco. Nick stretches his arms on the back of the pew, he’s able to pat Mace’s shoulder a little in an attempt to be comforting. 

Franco looks at Nick who whispers, just loud enough that Mace can make it out, “you know, me and my Lady have a party to go to in a few days that has me all kinds of worked up and stressed. I’d love to take that energy out on someone. What do you say, Franco? You wanna help me with that?”

Mace lets himself smile as he sees Franco’s hand clench into a fist. The Franco’s may have the stronger reputation for ruthlessness but Nick’s reputation for efficiency in causing pain is well nigh legendary. Franco wordlessly stands and walks outside of the courtroom. Nick follows a few minutes later, letting Mace focus on you. 

You’ve been doing an amazing job in your testimony. You’re hitting all the important notes, making sure your explanations aren’t overly technical while not being so dumbed down that holes can be poked in your words, allowing doubt to seep in. It took up so much of your brain power you didn’t have the energy to be scared or look around for Mace. You keep your attention on the questions only occasionally needing to fidget with something for your nerves. 

As much as you’d wanted to keep Mace nearby for the pre-trial prep you had to admit, Huffman was likely the better person for it. He talked you through all of the things that were going to happen, gave you some advice for how to handle yourself and speak to the jury at their level. You took all of his advice to heart and, given the looks you’ve seen from the lawyers and the families in the gallery, you’ve been doing well. 

The only thing that you couldn’t really prepare for was how much time was needed. It felt like you’d been answering questions for hours without a break. Maybe that was their tactic? Wear you down to make you less intelligible? Less trustworthy as a source? It was a major relief to you when the judge called for a recess. You’d get some food and some friendly company to help settle your nerves before round two. 

Part 4 -- Part 6

Series Masterlist

Tagging:

@chibijusstuff

@jamneuromain

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@rebekahdawkins

@texmexdarling

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

#mafia!james mace #mob!james mace #james mace x reader #mace x reader #mafia au #mafia!mace #mob!mace

[d0nutzgg]

Predicting Alzheimer's With Machine Learning

Alzheimer's disease is a progressive neurodegenerative disorder that affects millions of people worldwide. Early diagnosis is crucial for managing the disease and potentially slowing its progression. My interest in this area is deeply personal. My great grandmother, Bonnie, passed away from Alzheimer's in 2000, and my grandmother, Jonette, who is Bonnie's daughter, is currently exhibiting symptoms of the disease. This personal connection has motivated me to apply my skills as a data scientist to contribute to the ongoing research in Alzheimer's disease.

Model Creation

The first step in creating the model was to identify relevant features that could potentially influence the onset of Alzheimer's disease. After careful consideration, I chose the following features: Mini-Mental State Examination (MMSE), Clinical Dementia Rating (CDR), Socioeconomic Status (SES), and Normalized Whole Brain Volume (nWBV).

MMSE: This is a commonly used test for cognitive function and mental status. Lower scores on the MMSE can indicate severe cognitive impairment, a common symptom of Alzheimer's.

CDR: This is a numeric scale used to quantify the severity of symptoms of dementia. A higher CDR score can indicate more severe dementia.

SES: Socioeconomic status has been found to influence health outcomes, including cognitive function and dementia.

nWBV: This represents the volume of the brain, adjusted for head size. A decrease in nWBV can be indicative of brain atrophy, a common symptom of Alzheimer's.

After selecting these features, I used a combination of Logistic Regression and Random Forest Classifier models in a Stacking Classifier to predict the onset of Alzheimer's disease. The model was trained on a dataset with these selected features and then tested on a separate dataset to evaluate its performance.

Model Performance

To validate the model's performance, I used a ROC curve plot (below), as well as a cross-validation accuracy scoring mechanism.

The ROC curve (Receiver Operating Characteristic curve) is a plot that illustrates the diagnostic ability of a model as its discrimination threshold is varied. It is great for visualizing the accuracy of binary classification models. The curve is created by plotting the true positive rate (TPR) against the false positive rate (FPR) at various threshold settings.

The area under the ROC curve, often referred to as the AUC (Area Under the Curve), provides a measure of the model's ability to distinguish between positive and negative classes. The AUC can be interpreted as the probability that the model will rank a randomly chosen positive instance higher than a randomly chosen negative one.

The AUC value ranges from 0 to 1. An AUC of 0.5 suggests no discrimination (i.e., the model has no ability to distinguish between positive and negative classes), 1 represents perfect discrimination (i.e., the model has perfect ability to distinguish between positive and negative classes), and 0 represents total misclassification.

The model's score of an AUC of 0.98 is excellent. It suggests that the model has a very high ability to distinguish between positive and negative classes.

The model also performed extremely well in another test, which showed the model has a final cross-validation score of 0.953. This high score indicates that the model was able to accurately predict the onset of Alzheimer's disease based on the selected features.

However, it's important to note that while this model can be a useful tool for predicting Alzheimer's disease, it should not be the sole basis for a diagnosis. Doctors should consider all aspects of diagnostic information when making a diagnosis.

Conclusion

The development and application of machine learning models like this one are revolutionizing the medical field. They offer the potential for early diagnosis of neurodegenerative diseases like Alzheimer's, which can significantly improve patient outcomes. However, these models are tools to assist healthcare professionals, not replace them. The human element in medicine, including a comprehensive understanding of the patient's health history and symptoms, remains crucial.

Despite the challenges, the potential of machine learning models in improving early diagnosis leaves me and my family hopeful. As we continue to advance in technology and research, we move closer to a world where diseases like Alzheimer's can be effectively managed, and hopefully, one day, cured.

#alzheimersresearch #alzheimersdisease #dementia #neurology #machinelearning #ai #artificialintelligence #aicommunity #datascience #datascientist #healthcare #medicalresearch #programming #python programming #python #python 3

[iztea]

Maybe you have some drawing tips for beginners?

Your style is incredibly beautiful and it just inspires this thing inside me to grab my iPad and start drawing but unfortunately I have no idea where to even begin

Or maybe you have some recs where to look to learn how to draw stuff?

But I understand completely that it’s your thing and artists should never feel pressured to share all their techniques and secrets, you worked hard on it!

I just really really love your art to the point where I just look at it for 30 minutes straight with this big feeling in my chest

<3

ah it was never about being secretive, i'm pretty open about my drawing process since gatekeeping knowledge is a big pet peeve of mine. It was more like,, laziness because writing a cohesive and helpful drawing tutorial is pretty difficult and i wouldn't even know where to start; i'm afraid i'll get maybe too technical and what have you.

As for tips for beginners, i've shared plenty on my couriouscat so you can scroll through the answers there, i also have some drawing timelapses on my twitter account as well (albeit you'll have to scroll a little)

I'm very flattered you feel that way about my art, it really means a lot to me and i'm glad to have inspired you to draw as well that's awesome and i wish you best of luck!

I actually don't know how different drawing on an iPad is compared to a graphic tablet+desktop, so I am actually pretty clueless in that regard. I think Procreate is the most used digital art app for iPad so you can start by getting it and familiarizing yourself with the UI. I think this step is often overlooked. The brushes and the chosen program can make or break the drawing experience. If you simply find yourself not enjoying Procreate, experiment with other apps or maybe try switching to a graphic tablet, maybe that feels better and is more suited to your tastes.

To be completely honest, one "bad" piece of advice that i should probably keep to myself is to draw something you actually enjoy: fanart, Pretty Girl Portrait(tm), your cat, landscapes etc even if it's above your skill level (becoming obsessed/ fixated on some character from a piece of media also works wonders i'm just gonna throw that out there). The main point is to actually care about your chosen subject in order to get inspired and to have that inner desire of "doing them justice" aka drawing them well. The traditional art learning route probably involves studying the fundamentals, shading spheres and cones and simple 3D forms blablbablah which. Yeah ! sure that's probably better advice but i'm telling you what will make you want to keep going and not get discouraged after a few failed attempts.

As for the drawing subject, I highly recommend having photo references to guide you.. you always need refs it's a recurring thing. My fastest artworks are the ones where I have the right references. the less references the more difficult it is to draw something

As a beginner it is also a good practice to draw OVER your photo reference to get the proportions right ( i'm not talking about literally tracing the contour of a face or limb ( just an example ), but moreso identifying the Main shape which makes up that body part and observe how long is it in respect to the other components, how does it connect to the other parts etc - big difference. Tracing won't help you in the long run).

Another thing you can do is to study your favourite artists and see how They tackle whatever it is that you like in their work. how do they simplify facial features? what about anatomy? color/ light etc and kinda reverse engineer your way through their process. ( but i highly recommend to just keep these practice sketches to yourself, and to not share them on social media- unless you get the artist's permission)

This is how i got into drawing and what i did back then, again, for more technical hands-on information i did answer similar CCs before so with a little bit of stalking you'll find them in no time

I wanna finish this with some resources that helped me:

>youtube guys - sinix, ahmed aldoori, marco bucci, and also just speedpaints in general i highly recommend watching those

>for simplified anatomy i found @/ taco1704 's ref sheets to be very helpful but ........... I'm pretty dry here i just look up refs on Pinterest tbvh

speaking of, here's my pinterest i have a bunch of art related boards board cool stuff overall maybe they can help guide you towards some direction or inspire you in some way idk

ok i kinda suck in the resource department listeN. im starving too just.................. watch youtube speedpaints ok

SORRY IT'S SO LONGGGBGGG i hope it was at least a bit helpful? this was all over the place... I'll try to come up with a tutorial as well but i really gotta be careful with how i go about it. I'll leave you with this for the time being. Again, thank you a lot for the kind words, I really am very grateful and touched esp by that last part about staring with the big feeling stuff eeeeeeeeeeeeee really wow T T that's so lovely and a big compliment thanks ty ly

#long post #this is so messy...... sorry anon #i don't have a very. linear thought process as the kids would call it #you should see my lit essays back in the day lmfao #anyways #if there are typos i'll fix them later #ASK IZTEA #they call me the tutor the way rial my way through the ..... #ok nevermind

[alpaca-clouds]

Hector and Trauma

You know what. I wanna talk about Hector from Castlevania, specifically the Netflix version of the character. (Again: I hate CoD Hector, who just replaces his dead girlfriend for her fucking clone. That's just fucking low.)

As people might've noticed... I am kinda obsessing about this man right now. And the main reason is that... I really do identify with him in a way I have not identified with a fictional character before. I read him as autistic (though I am not sure whether he was supposed to be read that way or just happens to be written in a way that every single autistic person I know reads him so...) and I very much identify with the C-PTSD that he clearly has.

We do not know much about his childhood, other than "lonely kid revives animals to have friends" and "abusive parents". We do not know how far the abuse went, so whether it was just verbal abuse (which we know about) or went into physical abuse. All we know is that at some point he could no longer take it and killed his parents by setting the house on fire and locking them inside. We don't know, how old he was after this and what exactly he did after that. Only that in his early 20s he is somewhere on Rhodes with his undead animals, has already met Dracula once and then agrees to "cull" humans and then creates night creatures for Drac.

Again, there is little information for what has happened in the time in between. But we get enough information to understand that he has been at least somewhat mistreated by other humans, making him wish for humans to be somewhat culled.

Here my interpretation of him being autistic comes in, too. Because... an autistic child with an abusive home will completely lack social skills and hence will probably meet with a lot of abuse from other people. Because he would not know how to act around them.

Something we do see: He kinda seems to understand that Dracula is doing a genocide and not just a cull. But he very willingly ignores it or keeps himself soothed by thinking that he is just misunderstanding it until Carmilla comes in.

Now, Carmilla makes it clear that Dracula lied to him. But she obviously also betrays him and then abuses him. Something that is kinda ignored: During the march to Styria he is constantly abused. He has fresh bruises, when he arrives at Styria, making it rather clear, that he got beaten up constantly during the long march there. So: Say hello to even more trauma.

Along comes Lenore, her original violence against him and then obviously her betrayel. And let me make one thing clear: What she does to him in the finale of season 3 is sexual assault. Maybe not in the legal sense, but speaking of a psychological effect, it clearly is SA.

Obviously at that point we do have season 4. Where he seems kinda... fine. Like, what we see is, that he presents as fine. He is joking with Lenore. He is making his escape plan. He appears to be okay. Which is a state that seems to continue till the end of the show. Heck, we see him smile as Lenore dies........

And that should be a hint on how not-okay he is.

Let me talk about child abuse first. See, here is the thing: Children do not only develop physically, but also psychological and neurological. In that, they need to learn certain things at certain points in time. One of the first things children are supposed to learn, is to trust and mistrust. But for that they need a stable surrounding in which they can trust that they are cared for. Which children, who get abused or neglected, usually do not have. Especially with the dialogue we have from his mother: "I knew you were wrong from the moment you came out of me." (Note: This is another reason I read him as autistic, because at times autism shows even at infant age and without the information it might lead to parents not quite bonding with the child.)

They also need to learn some basic autonomy early on and to deal with self-doubt and shame. Which again abused children, who do not get encouraged to develop autonomy in a healthy environment and often might get shamed cannot develop.

Some other things they need to learn is how to deal with guilt, how to understand consequences, how to develop an identity and also what role they have in society. All things that children, who are abused, cannot properly learn. Additionally here, because Hector clearly has not found his own place in the society he lived in.

And this is something we actually do see in the show. He is absolutely unable to understand whom to trust or to see any red flags. He also is so clearly longing to be loved and praised by someone. Which is why he falls for Dracula and Carmilla and then Lenore. Heck, good chance that his understanding with Varney went something like that.

He is obviously not aware of this, but he is very much compensating for what was not given to him.

There are several characters over the entire story, that note how he has the mind of a child. And part of that is just, that he has childhood trauma and developmental delays because of it. And this delay is used again and again against him.

Something that is very noticable in the show is, that Hector never once cries. No matter how much he is abused and betrayed, he does not cry outside of the flashbacks where he is a kid. Now, in any other show it would not be that noticable, because we rarely do not see men cry in media........ but Castlevania is different here. Castlevania has no qualms letting the men cry.

Now, IRL it is obviously that a lot of men got taught not to cry. Because our society has the entire "boys don't cry" thing going on. BUT... I kinda doubt that is what is going on here.

See, one thing that happens in some cases, when people have amassed too much trauma, is, that they loose the ability for appropriate emotional responses to things happening to them. Mostly because the brain cannot process the emotion normally any longer.

Which is also why I think he is smiling in that last scene. Because... I mean, let's face it. The Lenore death thing has to be fucking traumatizing too. But he just... doesn't quite have the ability to process it in any proper way.

Now, how much of this is intended reading?

Honestly, I do have no idea. But at some points his behavior does make a lot of sense from the CPTSD point of view - and it is even called out by other character. Which kinda makes me think that at least some of it was intended.

Either way: I am rather thinking the man has a lot of healing to do post-canon. Because he not only has to heal from the stuff that happens to him in the series, but also the entire childhood trauma, that so very clearly is not addressed.

And if he addresses that trauma, there will also be a point in which he has to face his guilt. Because that is very much another thing he has not yet done.

Anyways. I adore him. And I want him to be alright. Q-Q

#castlevania #castlevania netflix #media analysis #headcanon #castlevania hector #hector castlevania #cptsd #ptsd #child abuse #cw: child abuse #psychology #essay

[marblecakemix]

Welcome to my humble domain!! 🫧✨

Hi, I'm Marble (or cake or mix or cakemix, you can call me whatever), a lesbian in her early 20s from Poland. Just vibing here on Tumblr from time to time. If you want to look into my post/reblogs read my takes on #talk tag.

You can ask me anything you want. I won't shy away, but remember that I'm not your therapist and all my opinions are biased forward women!

More information about me under the cut! 💕

If the part has * in front of it that means I changed something in the text and/or my views are different than before.

*I'm still quite new to radical feminism and I'm trying my best to learn how to take action. In short, I fight for women's rights and freedom from sex-based oppression. Right now I'm looking into creating a small radfem activism group in my area. If you're from Poland and feel comfortable, dm me!

I detransitioned in the middle of 2023. I used to be a non-binary/agender and asexual individual for around 3 to 4 years, but I understood all of that was because of internalized misogyny and homophobia and I actually wanted to have sex and did like me being a woman before I entered the trans community.

I'm an ex-Christian, now I probably would call myself a spiritual person, researching my Slavic roots at the moment.

I believe in critical thinking and triple-checking facts. Everyone can have their opinions, but actions should have a base in grounded reality and unbiased scientific research. Read those books ladies!

I'm mostly talking about my experience as an ex-TRA, a lesbian, a woman, someone who lives in a misogynistic/conservative family and a country that has yet to legalize same-sex marriage, but you can safely transition here even as a minor.

*I'm a trans identified men hater, a terf if you will. I don't care. Fuck all men, I don't care anymore. Gender dysphoria or perversion (autogynephilia) should have never been "solved" with a surgery and/or irreversible "gender affirming" treatment. No other mental illness has permanent body modification as its treatment, same should be for gender dysphoria. The trans movement (men's rights movement in disguise) is the most harmful thing right now and I'm so tired of seeing more people being pushed into it just because they are themselves and aren't scared to dress unconventionally! I'm fuming with rage.

I make mistakes! I'm just a human being and, naturally, I will be in the wrong sometimes. May it be because of the language barrier or me just not thinking things through, doesn't matter. I will try to acknowledge my mistakes and say sorry. I'm still learning and there isn't a better way than through your own downfalls!

I don't block people, unless they're insufferable. We can have different opinions, different lifestyles, different views, but if you're annoying I draw the line there.

I also draw sometimes (I don't have much time for it right now, bc I'm in the middle of my academic years), you can find my work under #my art.

Nothing here is set in stone. As I grow as a person my views will probably change. If you have any questions, just ask them! I'm happy to answer all of them ❤️

Last update: 30th March 2024

#intro post #introduction #blog intro #bio #talk tag #radical lesbian #lesbian #lgb drop the t #radical feminst #detransitioner #detrans #radical feminism #radblr #radfem #feminism #gender critical #gender abolitionist #woman artist #artists on tumblr #terf #terfsafe #terfblr #trans exclusionary radical feminist

[farolero-posting]

OneShot and Rain World assorted thoughts (aka making other iterators that aren't TWM). These all come from rambling on discord about this to a few friends.

We made Prototype an iterator, because he would be kinda frightening if he had the processing power to be one.

No clue what he looks like, but I named him Haunting Augury since it fits his whole prophet motif.

It abbreviates to HA which is ironic. It would piss him off if you point it out.

In OneShot the main thing he has going on is that he can "predict" the future. (i have headcanons but im not opening that can of worms rn)

But "predicting the future" isn't all that impressive in Rain World because iterators are already running multiple simulations on how to solve the Great Problem.

And a lot of it is about guessing outcomes.

So instead HA's main defining trait is predicting those ideal conditions for ascension and relaying useful info to his citizens.

Personality wise HA is not nice. Really blunt and a little intimidating. His relationship with ancients is sort of ambivalent.

He will answer your questions but will be kinda pedantic about it.

Augury has heavy opinions on concepts of randomness and luck. Don't fucking ask him.

Also he would be the first to figure out the ancients would try ascending anyways via Void Fluid and would be pissed off about it, probably refusing to reveal that information to them.

Except it's pointless.

There's definitely something else you could say about memory loss down the line as cycles go by but I don't have anything to offer.

I also thought about Silver as an iterator.

She has no name yet but I KNOW she is modeled to resemble an ancient the most out of every other iterator. She absolutely had an intricate mask at some point. It's worn down now, she doesn't care.

She was designed with the mindset that an iterator should be able to closely relate to the plights of ancients and identify with them.

It's not all that effective. The ancients can't ignore the fact she is an iterator.

Her city is known for being Barren.

She caused some kind of incident that made the ancients leave her. Maybe her actions were related to almost breaking a taboo. The specifics are all in pearls that nobody's found.

So she's been isolated for way too long. She feels abandoned by the ancients, and is also distant to other iterators, finding it hard to relate to them too.

Her connections to other iterators are also faint. Closest neighbor is probably Augury but neither of them reaches out so it doesn't matter.

Her can has had time to get a stable ecosystem somehow.

I also think she would get creatures in her chamber more often than other iterators.

She may have a soft spot for scavengers, so if they're nice and play a game with her she will give them a pearl.

#oneshot game #rain world #headcanon #wwawawawawawawa idk my grasp on rw lore isnt the best. #but take this