I Go For Viking Monster Since It Tastes Like Cranberries, That Or Ultra Strawberry Dreams.

mech pilot who got separated from their mecha when their civilisation was domestication and their military got dissolved. despite all attempts to help them, they still have persistent phantom sensation from the limbs that they used to have but no longer do; constantly missing the feeling of a rifle in hands that don't feel the right size, feeling blind and deaf without all of the enhanced feedback from sensors capable of a hundred times greater acuity than their own body

eventually, however, one particular affini reads their medical file and comes up with an idea. she files a notice of intent on the pilot, then swiftly heads over to their hab and whisks them away the next morning. they don't even bother resisting; having long since given up hope that things will get better, and unable to imagine any way they could get worse

the affini takes them home and lays them down on a surgery table, promising them that soon, everything is going to feel right again. they expect nothing, presuming her to be lying to them, but they feel a great weight behind their eyes, and a moment later, they fall closed.

it feels like they've only blinked, but when they reopen them, everything is different. every sense that was missing is suddenly there again. they look down at their arms to find them just the right size; their body no longer one of flesh, but of gleaming white metal plates, pulsating with thin green lines of a material they don't recognise. it takes them a moment to realise what it is: under their metal skin are muscles and tendons made out of vines, their former optical sensors replaced with sight blossoms, and their rifle woven back together from a mixture of bark, chambered with rounds made of amber

most of all, they are no longer alone. they could feel their mech before, but it's different this time; as if the sensation surrounding them isn't quite their own, but a body that is both theirs and not. a faint, slow pulsing that shifts in time with every movement, guiding them to know exactly where to look, and what to do. moments later, they hear a voice whispering- not into their ear, but directly into their mind, just like their onboard AI used to:

"Good morning, my precious little Pilot."

me: I will do things when I am less tired

me: *never becomes less tired*

me: oh no

You can't even deliver interesting final words to a great enemy any more because they'll just act like you're flirting.

I got the upper hand against a corrupted-noblewoman-turned-dark-mage the other week and before I ended her I said, "It was always my destiny to strike you down."

And she giggles before going, "Really? Me?"

I rolled my eyes and apparently that was the split second she needed to teleport away, which is just ridiculous when you think about it.

I'm sure I'll defeat her again, but in the meantime she keeps sending me love letters laced with powdered poisons and, honestly, it's starting to make me a little uncomfortable.

I can't keep having my rivalries against evil go like this.

Scientists have just discovered some rocks at the bottom of the ocean can make oxygen... and they do it in complete darkness!

These aren’t magic stones, they’re polymetallic nodules, potato-sized metal lumps packed with manganese, cobalt, and nickel.

But here’s the twist; when seawater flows over their surfaces, they generate tiny electric currents that can split water molecules into hydrogen and oxygen. No sunlight, no photosynthesis, just deep-sea chemistry creating breathable gas in the pitch black.

This “dark oxygen” could explain how deep-sea creatures survive in low-oxygen zones far from the surface. What's even wilder is that if this can happen on Earth, it could be happening right now in the hidden oceans of Europa or Enceladus, two icy moons that scientists think might host alien life.

all right I guess tumblr ate this post because it can’t handle the truth or something, so here it is again

My oil painting of an Uncrustable

Don't fuck around with hardcore kink if you won't take it seriously.

HEY ASSHOLE

Hey, that’s me

“I don’t do math because I’m gay” “the gays can’t do math” “If I explain math on tumblr I’ll lose my gay card” all of you apologize to Alan Turing right now