Hello! I am an adult from an era where we were taught not to put your personal info on the internet, so Iâll just say I am an adult. Finished college and everything. I also talk and write about 18+ subjects, so anyone younger than that please come back on your 18th birthday. đđž See you then.
I cover some tags, but not necessarily all of them. I try and warn if something is going to be upsetting or mature as well as when itâs a tag I use a lot.
Last bit, you can call me Midnight and I do not care about pronouns. Anon messaging is off and I block like a mf.
Adding to it because apparently people need to be told this!: if you reblog a post about antisemitism from me and add something antisemitic? Fuck off, you will be blocked.
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hello allo person in a fandom. letâs play a game. in front of you are two characters. your challenge is to okay and youâve already started shipping them. well the crusher machine is going to activate now goodbye.
hello self proclaimed multishipper on tumblr. let's play a game. in front of you is an aro person venting understandable frustration about how 99% of fanworks and fan discussions in every single fandom always center around romance, regardless of whether or not the character in question would realistically want to date anyone. your challenge is to okay and you've already started calling op a violent anti. well the crusher machine-
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Because I'm a biologist and a complete freak, I sometimes amuse myself thinking about like a super ultra advanced alien race that 'conquers' our planet, but instead of being all 'War of the Worlds' about it, they aren't even conquering, as far as they're concerned. There are no inteligent life forms on this planet, after all, just little animals, and they're clearly on the endangered species list. A perfect place to study rare wildlife on an untouched planet.
So there's an alien research station in space. Humanity's worst attempts to destroy it amount to a bear turning over the trash can. Aliens occasionally abduct people and return them with a clean bill of health and an ankle bracelet. It takes them forever to figure out those bracelets are screwing with their data because humans who carry them are curve-wreckingly popular.
Disaster strikes somewhere, I dunno, Japan, and there's an uptick in abductions, but of people stuck in collapsed buildings, and yeah the giant octopus tree that looks straight out of Call of Cthulhu is scary but it's also using tech you can't even comprehend to find survivors and teleport them out of the rubble. You see humans with absolutely 100% deadly injuries wisked away and a good number of them even return. There is now a new consent form specifying if rescuers can take you to the aliens, because they will probably try to save you but if they can't your family will never get your body back. You decide if your life or your body is more important.
Little by little, pragmatism wins out. The aliens aren't attacking, but they ARE abducting and doing weird tests. But the survivors mostly return unharmed with a Big Mac in hand and a weird piece of tech. There have been less valid excuses to miss school. The aliens are clearly researching humanity just as much as we are researching them, and until communications are established this status quo isn't the worst.
Ofc, then one of them actually attacks. Knocks the statue of liberty clean off. The military starts to deploy fast, and even wounds the attacker a lot, but before they can shoot the second missle it bounces. And it turns on the shooter. Every military person in the attack dies, suddenly and through means you cannot comprehend. The other aliens whisk the attacking one away. Construction materials appear as if in apology, but that's it.
The attacker was a hooligan who thought destroying wildlife was fun, and ran into something they can't handle. But even if the bear is perfectly within its rights to defend its territory, the ranger will atill have to shoot it to save the stupid brat, and hope the idiot learned their lesson.
But the bear is still dead. And the forest critters who had just started getting used to the ranger are now having second thoughts.
But the abductions continue. There are no hooligans for a while. And what else can you do? This is your home, but if the invaders really want to take it, what can you do?
So you try to stay out of their way, if you are in some serious trouble and your chances are already less than 50/50, maybe you seek them out. Sometimes they help. Sometimes they don't.
And sometimes the abductees catch glimpses of something that looks like it might have been human once, but eyes and skin all wrong, speaking incomprehensibly, and rubbing its head on the alien's 'knees'.
You go home to your dog and try not to think about it.
just found out that accidentally in love by counting crows was literally made for shrek. they didnt just choose it. it didnt exist before. they asked counting crows to make a song for shrek 2 and thats how we got one of the best songs ever made. insane.
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okay not to ocpost again but the worst thing about having an oc is sometimes they become The Character to you. and you need to talk to someone about it like wow I canât stop thinking about The Character⌠but in order to do so you have to like sit them down and explain everything about your oc first. and then itâs just you explaining your writing ideas. i need to talk about them the same way i would talk about any random character i love to someone.
practicing self care less out of self love and more for the sheer logical reasoning of itâd be kinda stupid of me to expect myself to be able to function without proper maintenance
âoh i donât deserve rest and relaxation, i havenât done enough, i havenât earned itâ and my carâs breaks donât deserve break fluid because they arenât breaking well enough to earn it. thatâs what you sound like!!!!!
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Turbo toxic one-sided yuri? Baby technogodâs first crush? Ah well, either way, another sapphic is added to Vianâs problems. Thank you to @flashfictionfridayofficial and @itsmoonpeaches for the chance to intro the RenaskiÄi per kanto!
[Image ID: white text reading â# FFF365 Blood On Your Handsâ on a background of marbled red.
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iâll be looking in their eyes when theyâre down
word count: 931
Content Warnings: injuries from torture, victim blaming, implicit threats of physical violence, one-sided crush from a minor on an adult, non-consensual kissing, one mention of killing an animal for food
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If the RenaskiÄi per karno is Vianâs maker and the RenaskiÄi per fajro her protector, then the RenaskiÄi per kanto is her minder. The soft voice in Vianâs childhood cooing in praise when she completed a dexterity task, the smile greeting her at her clusterâs library as she grew, the ten thousand eyes watching and guiding her every movement.
âYou upset Grandmother again,â says the voice of Vianâs memory, says the girl before her as the RenaskiÄi per kanto takes Vianâs broken hands in her own.
In the shadows of the RenaskiÄi per fajroâs private rooms, thin fingers stained with Vianâs blood flit over the newest break at the RenaskiÄi per fajroâs hands, turning the fresh seventh fracture until a hiss escapes Vianâs mouth.
âWhy do you keep upsetting her?â asks the RenaskiÄi per kanto, curious brown eyes holding Vian in a way that reminds her of her youth, when she was sent to learn where their meals come from and had to cut a calfâs throat.
âI think,â Vian says slowly, if the RenaskiÄi per kanto might listen to her where the RenaskiÄi per fajro and RenaskiÄi per karno refused, âwe made a mistake. I want to fix it.â
âOh?â The RenaskiÄi per kanto looks at her, the attention of two eyes that are ten thousand, flickering over every part of Vian, meeting her eyes directly.
âThe projections for our food suppliesââ Vianâs heart pounds, her words picking up as the RenaskiÄi per kanto only listens, doesnât move to break another part of her ââlook wrong. The crop repopulations arenât increasing the way the city population is set to, the cloning system canât keep up with the necessary caloric intake. I have to check, to see if Iâm right.â
Sheâs written the numbers and the formulas down as much as she can, as much she remembers, in-between creating and failing the cycle of meal system the RenaskiÄi per fajro requires, the attempts to be more trouble than sheâs worth. But those moments are hardly on the scale she needs. And she misses her recipe books, their silver-lined memory paper holding years worth of her calculations and thoughts.
The RenaskiÄi per kanto hums in thought and it is musicalâand strange paired with a face only 17, years away from reaching the age of majorityâher fingers still playing over Vianâs.
âYes, I know,â the RenaskiÄi per kanto sighs and it sounds like all the sorrow in the world.
Vian would be sorry to have upset her, would apologize if it wasnât for the words the RenaskiÄi per kanto said. âYouâŚknow?â
The perfect bow of the RenaskiÄi per kantoâs mouth bends as she purses her lips. âGepa and his scientists have been trying to understand it, why this appears to be the systemâs limit. Grandmother says civilizations have cycles. She says this might simply mark the end of ours.â
âRenaskiÄi per kanto,â Vian says, carefully with her fingers still in the RenaskiÄi per kantoâs grasp, at the chance that she wonât be forced to let the cityâs future starve, âI could help. If you tell your grandmotherââ the strange word feels awful, viscous, in Vianâs mouth ââto let me go. Please, I could, we could fix this, change our supply lines if thatâs what we need, there are other cities we could ask for heââ
Her words choke off as the RenaskiÄi per kanto focuses on one of Vianâs few unbroken fingers. It isnât bent or pressed or broken, only held, but the act steals Vianâs voice away all the same. The RenaskiÄi per kanto, taller than most of the fivefold, stands over her, face placid and eyes so bright.
Nothing changes except for Vianâs breaths coming faster and harsher, an apology locked inside of her throat because she wonât apologize. She could fix this if they would just let her. Or she would spend the rest of her life trying if it would keep anyone made after her from having less to save themselves.
The RenaskiÄi per kanto nods. She wipes her bloodied fingers clean on Vianâs palms. âNot yet.â
The words arenât the same as denying Vian outright, which is more than anyone else has done. âPlej nova menso, when?â
The RenaskiÄi per kanto bends down to press her lips against the side of Vianâs mouth, briefly, wet. Vianâs stomach turns with the brush of eyelashes against her cheek.
âPotenca renaskiÄo per kanto,â Vian says, feeling the echo of thin hands on her finger and the wetness of the kiss. The RenaskiÄi per kanto is the only one whoâs listened. âTheââ
âNot yet,â the RenaskiÄi per kanto repeats. âWill you misbehave again?â
Vian shakes her head, thinking of the heat of her minderâs hands holding her finger. A frown tips the RenaskiÄi per kantoâs face for a moment and then itâs gone as quickly as the RenaskiÄi per kanto pulls away.
Vian is left in the shadows of the room, watching the color of the RenaskiÄi per kantoâs skirts fade with her as she leaves. As she is allowed to leave where Vian is not.
The RenaskiÄi per kantoâs back is to Vian as she stands at one of the many doorways Vian isnât allowed to cross and Vian still feels her eyes. âDoes Grandmother send a nurse for you?â
âBy the end of the day,â Vian says. Maybe the RenaskiÄi per kantoâsâŚaffection will send one sooner, allow a nurse to set at least one of her fingers properly.
âOh,â says the RenaskiÄi per kanto, voice musical and perfect, thin fingers tangled in the fabric of her skirts. âThen I leave it to her.â
