People don’t look at you and see your body. They don’t measure the space between your thighs or the width around your stomach. That doesn’t happen. People see your pretty smile and your soft hair and your cheeks red from the cold and your eyes. They hear your laugh and your sentences and your jokes and your ideas. There is so much more than this tiny human vessel you were given. Your legs can walk and your brain can think and your hands can feel. You could walk anywhere. You could cut all your hair off and wear dark lipstick. You could kiss strangers. The possibilities are endless and you were given this life, this opportunity, to explore and to create and to love and be loved back.
You are not your body. You are the songs you sing and the friends you make and the words you write and the places you go. I believe in you. I really do. You are going to do something so great in this world. You can share ideas and teach so many people. Please take care of yourself. Give your body fuel so it can think and smile and be healthy. Please.
—  Please eat

anonymous asked:

Aliens reacting to our mess of alien horror films please?

Jostedalsbreen had been on the primarily human vessel for almost thirty of their rotations now, and was confident enough to say xe knew a lot about humans and their cultures by now.

Xe even knew of the concept of popcorn, which apparently was going to be relevant for the end-of-roation bonding they referred to as ‘moovee naigt’ apparently they would view a classic of some sort. It sounded like an art form similar to theatre - which Jostedalsbreen had read about.

When xe arrived at the designated room xe had no idea what horrors awaited xem. At first it seemed pleasurable enough, but it didn’t take long before xe was as good as frozen to xir seat, silently bemoaning the evolutionary trait that rendered xem unable to move. 

Fortunately, one of the humans - Communications Officer Moreau - seemed to take notice not too long after, and end the horrific ordeal on the screen. Jostedalsbreen needed some time to recover before xe was able to communicate in a way the humans would understand, but once xe was ready, xe knew what xe had to ask.

“W- what was that?”

“The movie?” Moreau asked before they seemed to realise the problem. “It’s fictitious, don’t worry. Purely for entertainment value.”

Clearly the humans didn’t realise how unsettling that statement was. “You find footage of your own species being ripped to shreds funny?” Xe asked in disbelief, almost scared of what the answer would be. Humans did have a reputation after all, but from what xe had seen, it seemed to be largely undeserved. Even if they seemed to have no idea what self-preservation meant, and came from a truly terrifying world.

“No, no, of course not. It’s scary,” they answered, causing a wave of relief to wash over Jostedalsbreen. Until they continued, that is. “That’s what we like about it.”

The shock xe experienced must have shown, because Moreau didn’t stop there. “I’m not really sure why or how it works, but getting scared is funny sometimes. Like, when someone sneaks up behind you and scare you, and for some reason you end up laughing because the person who snuck up on you scared you? That ever happen to you?”

It took longer than it should have for Jostedalsbreen to realise that they weren’t joking, nor was the question rhetorical. “No. How would someone attacking you be entertaining?”

“I don’t know, it just is. And they’re not actually attacking, they’re just… you know. Giving you a spook.”

Pretending to understand what they meant, xe moved xir head in what humans considered a sign of agreement, realising xe had been a fool to think xe could ever understand humans.
Scientists turn spinach leaf into working heart tissue

by Helena Horton 

Researchers have managed to turn a spinach leaf into working heart tissue and are on the way to solving the problem of recreating the tiny, branching networks of blood vessels in human tissue.

Until now, scientists have unsuccessfully tried to use 3D printing to recreate these intricate networks.

Now, with this breakthrough, it seems turning plants with their delicate veins into human tissue could be the key to delivering via a vascular system into the new tissue.

Scientists have managed in the past to create small-scale artificial samples of human tissue, but they have struggled to create it on a large scale, which is what would be needed to treat injury.

Researchers have suggested that eventually this technique could be used to grow layers of healthy heart muscle to treat patients who have suffered a heart attack.

In order to create the artificial heart, the scientists stripped the plant cells from the spinach leaves, sending fluids and microbeads similar to human blood cells through the spinach vessels and then ‘seeded’ the human cells which are used to line blood vessels into it.

Okay yesterday I posted an article about a miracle procedure for growing human tissue using pigs which is going to save countless lives and allow us to grow organs with our own DNA. Magic. Tumblr was unimpressed. Now here is a technique to grow tissue and organs using PLANTS and literally transforming them into human tissue. Plants.

I got some thoughts on Little Nightmares. As usual for me, I am more interested in everybody else and not the main character. Typical me.

Anyway as far as the world goes the basics are not hard to grasp. You are a human on a giant’s vessel. Giants were known to be maneaters in many of the different cultures they appear in, so raising and preparing human like domesticated livestock is no big surprise.  

What I am interested in is this particular crew. Been looking at things and the websites and I got some info. Like many others, the sight of fat customers coming aboard to eat en masse reminded me of tourism/the food industry-and with The Lady looming over as she does, it’s not hard to deduce she runs this eatery. Now here’s what it says about “The Lady” on the site -

“Admist the chaos of the world outside, The Maw is the only place that makes sense.”

It gives off the impression she might have been drifting before, lost, without a purpose and without a place to belong. Obviously she looks Japanese and aside from the eatery, not a lot of other places in the boat follow that aesthetic. She is far from home. But not just that-I think the others were lost too-if fact I think they were all together before as well. Look at this one-

-”he fled the world and found The Maw.”  People point out the painting of The Lady with other shadowy figures when contemplating the identity of Six, but you’ll notice the other pictures are quite interesting too. I believe our man here is in one of them-the chefs too. 

With the chefs, I’m thinking they were probably twins who were born fused together separated a little after birth-more on that theory later though.


 Mr. Legless sure looks like Mr. Arms tho. That The Lady keeps pictures of them gives me the impression they must have all known each other for a long time-predating The Maw. 

Not only that, but they are all wearing masks. The Janitor’s mask seems to be peeling and blocks his view, The chefs can be seen scratching under their mask and The Lady is wearing a much more obvious mask. Perhaps they are all from the same place and are trying to “blend in” with their new found culture/people. -Another interesting possibility-they are outcasts even among giants. The smashed mirrors, the masks and the Janitor - maybe these were originally a band of misfits-rejected at home who drifted aimlessly for a while before finding a place to belong, a place that “makes sense”. 

After all, no one cares what you look like if you’re serving up grub. 

This game, I hear, was originally called Hunger. Once you play the game yourself, you’ll see how that theme remains. Hunger drives what we assumed to be an innocent little girl to prefer to kill and eat others savagely to survive. Hunger can take you dark places. The Maw itself is a dark place, I’ve heard a youtuber comment after seeing it all that Six became “like them”. 

Perhaps hunger was also what drove them to such an extreme. Fattening, slaughtering, serving, in an endless cycle. It’s not pretty but it keeps them alive. It’s a purpose-it’s a living. 

Maybe this was something the game was trying to get across. How ruthless the fight for survival can really be and how things like good and evil can sometimes be made to take a backseat when you’re starving to death. 

It was with a warm hand on Castiel’s shoulder that Chuck watched his son die for the first time. Watched as the archangel shredded Cas under the weight and pull of angelic power. It was messy. It was callous.

Chuck wiped his blood-covered hands on his jeans, feeling the way the slick met rough—what was left of his son smeared on the denim.

Dean had come and gone and Chuck was left, sitting in the red-painted house, knowing that somewhere, his firstborn son was breaking free. Going to end the world.

Chuck sighed, grabbing a bottle of liquor from the counter and taking a deep swig. He could still see the glow in Castiel’s eyes. Not from grace, but from something perhaps more pure. Like a memory of the light once used to create the earth and all the creatures that inhabited it. The light that Chuck had given his creations straight from his own fingertips.

Cas, you beautiful idiot, he had thought as the room shook and he watched his son hold his ground, his last breaths rooted in a pearl of hope for the Earth. Hope placed in the small hands of two forgettable hunters fighting against the rising powers of hell.

The brave sacrifice of the brown-haired, blue eyed angel who died to save the world would likely never be told, but still, Chuck couldn’t help but think that it was the stuff that stories were made of.

It was quiet now, in the kitchen with the reminder of Cas, the man who’d ripped up the pages of destiny and spat in the face of fate. The man who’d scoured the earth in search for God with nothing but a second-hand pendant and a desire to protect.

Chuck closed his eyes, tightly. A desire to protect, he thought, his mind drifting back to the sense of wonder he’d felt when he’d first created his angels.

He sat down and poured a little drink on the floor in tribute before squeezing the bottle between his knees. And he tried not to remember that he had the power to protect, too. To protect the world from the impending apocalypse. To protect Castiel.

He didn’t. He wouldn’t. It was a promise he’d made a long time ago when, in an effort to “save,” he’d purged the earth with water. What surprised him, however, was how men continued to preach in his name, building philosophies and stamping them with heaven’s seal without care to God’s sanctions.

“Maybe my children make better Gods than me,” Chuck considered, finding himself again drawn to the two young brothers that, even now, were facing Michael and Lucifer when even their own God couldn’t.Dean and Sam were better men than their father, Chuck thought, and Cas was a better man than me.

Chuck stared at the way the room wore bits of Cas and wondered at the feelings of sentiment he felt. True, Chuck knew all of his angels, but he couldn’t find it in himself to understand why he felt the world was smaller now in the space since he’d watched Castiel die. After all, it was simply the natural order of things. He created angels like shooting stars: fiery, fierce and beautiful. And, like the meteoroids plowing through the sky, Cas had come too close to the earth, burning up inside the atmosphere.

Once, Chuck had commanded the angels to love the humans. The angels had become volatile, hardened creatures, made for duty with no one to serve. Statues of rigid perfection.

Chuck looked down at his own hands, letting his mind wander through the intricate designs of the human vessel he’d created for himself. Human flesh was so different than the fierce ether of an angel. He’d created them with the heads of beasts and great spanning wings. They were formidable, truly, they were. And yet, Chuck knew, even then, when he’d first birthed them, that humans were his most beautiful creation. They were breakable, small, and beautifully flawed. And, he’d known then, too, that he’d created mankind to save them all. To save the angels. To save himself.

It was his own last beacon of hope, that perhaps they could all become something more than the patterns of war and violence that had emanated from him and poured into his creations.

Chuck smiled as he looked at the Supernatural books, knowing he had found it. His broken children who had become more than their God, willing to die for the sake of the planet.

They had transcended him. He always knew they would. But, what had surprised him was the angel in the dirty trench coat and blue eyes, falling away from heaven’s glory for one man. One human. An angel that had such faith in and love for humanity that he’d given up everything.

Chuck bowed his head to his chest. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t get involved. And yet, he could still hear Castiel’s prayers in the back of his head—months of the angel’s voice crying for an absent God to step in and save his children.

And Chuck knew what he had to do. Though it wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things—a small gesture, really. But significant nonetheless.

Slowly, he leaned down to the floor, touching a spot of red with his finger. He watched as the bits of Cas responded, finding their way back to the whole. It was a fascinating process, to see the parts of Cas’s vessel come together, gathering, binding, creating arms, legs, a face. Until, suddenly, he was staring at the calm features of Cas’s body, laying down with his eyes closed, as if he could be asleep.

Then, with a breath, Chuck pulled light from the skies, infusing grace and soul and power to recreate Castiel’s true form, creating a sacred space inside the simple kitchen of Chuck’s home. It felt wrong, in a way, to bring so much of his God self back to the place where he had gone to leave it all behind. And yet, it also felt right. To put something back together again after such a long time of watching things fall apart.

And, finally, it was done as he gingerly placed Castiel back inside the man laying on the ground. He watched as the vessel’s chest hitched with the first breath of life, and smiled when he looked at the body he’d created just for Cas. For the angel who wanted so badly to love humans. In a way, now he could be one. He thought Cas would like that he’d made him look like Jimmy. That maybe he’d find it easier if he could look in the mirror and see the man whose face had first chosen to be so autonomous and free from heaven.

Cas’s eyes were still closed, and Chuck knew he couldn’t let him wake up here. He couldn’t face his son. Not now. Still, he was surprised to find himself kneeling on the floor of the kitchen, running his hands through the soft parts of Castiel’s hair, his thoughts, surprisingly far away from the ending of the rest of the world. Instead, he placed a kiss on top of Cas’s head, sending him to a beautiful forest, by a stream to wake up.

And then the kitchen was empty again, the clock on the wall ticking loudly, and the stain from the spilled alcohol shining on the floor.

Chuck contemplated what he’d done. Wondered at his own need to break every rule that had bound him for centuries and heal one lowly angel when he’d let hundreds of others die.

But, he thought he already knew the answer. Where Chuck had made humans in a deliberate effort at salvation, one lowly angel had been a surprise. A miracle. And, as Chuck sat back in his chair, he smiled as he admitted it to himself: it turned out that maybe it wasn’t just the humans that were there to save. It turned out that maybe, just maybe, a forgettable, self-sacrificing angel with blue eyes and too much heart could be the one to redeem them all.


Admiral Polt sat in his office going over the days reports, the whole fleet had been excited for a number of days now, ever since the news came through. His fleet was going to be getting the reinforcements they so desperately needed. But unlike the usual warrior races in the Alliance that made up it’s military, they were getting Humans. Most had never heard of these aliens and those that had or had met one told conflicting stories about them. The crew were preparing to meet one of the galaxies more younger races and were intrigued as to what kind of alien they would be.

The Benemar who made up the bulk of the current armed personal in the fleet were not so happy to hear this apparent known and untested race was seemingly replacing them. Only a few of them had ever met a Human and that was during the first contact conflict, a small war that saw the Alliance and the Humans fight a number of battles before the onset of peace.

A ship breaks from hyperspace and approaches the fleet, the ship is huge and takes the fleet by surprise thinking it Gal launching another offensive but they are soon told it’s the Human vessel that is to join the fleet. Apparently the Humans brought a whole ships worth of soldiers. A couple hundred thousand at least. 

The Human ship docks with the flagship and almost the entire crew turns out to meet them along with the Benemar who line up in ranks, being the largest race they are not hard to miss. The doors open and the Humans board. 

They march in perfect unison their faces hidden behind their helmets making seem like a faceless army, many of the other species were rather superstitious and believed that hiding ones face means they were possessed by demons. 

Admiral Polt flexed his winged arms in the Human sign of welcome, he had no teeth to show this smile that they do but he kept his eyes as soft as he could. Their captain then approached and what he asked caught him off guard.

“Wellcome Human–”

“First things first!!! Where’s the shitter we have spent weeks on a ship with thousands of soldiers and not enough toilets!!”

Admiral Polt stared at him, “What’s a…shitter?”

“A place where shit goes” he responded and his soldiers laughed.

“Umm…there are some restrooms down there” Polt pointed down the corridor and number of Humans instantly broke rank and ran in that direction screaming for those to get out the way.Their captain was among them.  

Everyone stared at them, was this normal Human behavior? 

Admiral Polt turned back to the lines of Humans, some seemed to be having some kind of seizure and were doubling over, but they were being ignored, do the Humans feel nothing for their own kind that are in pain?

“I’m sure the captain will be back soon” one of them says.

Finally their captain returns walking a bit more comfortably, images of what Human waste looks like flash in Polt’s mind…he does not like what he sees.

“Right where were we?”

“Umm…we were here we have not moved” Polt says.

“haha good one”


“Huh? oh you weren’t making a joke, anyway thank you for welcoming us we are here to honor our commitment to the Alliance” the Human captain says and he and his soldiers all take off their helmts to reveal their features.

The Benemar all burst out laughing in their hooting like sounds.

“These are the ones who are here to reinforce us?!”

“They are so squishy and small”

“Maybe we can find some baby Gal for them to play with”

The Human captain looks a them puts on a fake laugh that makes them stop

“Yeah, maybe they will be tougher than your lot on Bento Prime, oh that was your homeworld wasn’t it tell me what happened to it?”

The Benemar fell silent, their homeworld had never been invaded before, it had the greatest  defenses and the largest standing army. The Humans overran it in less than a day.It was handed back over to them after the first contact conflict but the humiliation they suffered had never been washed away.

“Now, my soldiers are tired form the trip and I assume there is adequate housing for us?” 

Admiral Polt nodded and before he direct them the Humans began marching into the ships interior and introducing themselves to the crew. As far as introductions went, he thought it went well….he hoped these Human were weird….or insane or maybe both.

Authors note– I might write a continuation to this but I’m not sure let me know what you think.

One human vessel. That’s it. I am annexed in a human vessel. I should treat it well. Not embarrass my vessel for she is fragile. Protect her. Spoil her. Nourish her. Bathe her. But most importantly: take advantage of her.

Go on… detach yourself from her. She is an earthling; but you… you are a soul. An imagination. A spirit. An experience. Take control.

—  Olive K. 
Angelkin / General Angelic beings

Expectations: Glowing skin, always in loose flowing dresses, speaks elegantly, misses home, writes poetry, talks about wanting to get out of their human vessel, sings songs about the sky. Remembers everything about heaven like they were there yesterday.

Reality: messy hair, probably chugging milk and honey at 3am, talks about how God is chill, wears crappy pajamas they got 4 birthdays ago, probably still saying lit. Barely remembers anything.

Humans are scary.

Commander! There is a vessel requesting help! It is about to emerge from Hyperspace!

What species does it belong to? 

 It’s a human vessel Commander.

 Aren’t we at war with them? 

 Yes Commander we are but I don’t think shooting it down would be a good ide…




The ship is bigger than our space station. 


The scans have also finished and it’s classified as a “Star Destroyer”. 


I said.. 



The crew requests an explanation to this sudden loss of your morale!

Just tell them, the Humans are coming.

*a sudden bwommm echoed as the Craft emerged from Hyperspace, casting a shadow 10x the size of the space station. * 



The crew understands.

Originally posted by find-a-reaction-gif

Human are Space Orcs

So I have decided to try my hand at so human are space orcs Fiction  I lke the Idea that Human ships can be somewhat Brutal in appearance and power and what we may consider normal is insane amounts of power.

“My Hanar we are Detecting something in the Hyperwave, Its 6,000 Teraquin across

That My Subhanar will be are human Guests.

“No Vessel should be producing an impedance wave that size! They may be suffering a failure of their ships Hyperwave generator we must act

No, my Subhanar , Have you ever seen a Human warship in full war panoply?……… No?  When I was Young Natrok aboard my first war vessel  we were ordered by the high Council to observe the Humans attack some Pamri Slavers base,  we took up a position on the outskirts of the system that the Pamri were using as a base,I remember the looks of  worry and fear that crept across Old Malor that ships Hanar Ancestor rest him when the Subhanar, Kalor reported the Humans impedance wave I remember now it was 3 darqaqin across, It was the largest Impedance wave that had even been encountered, not even the Dorgoa's trade barges produce an Impedance wave that size. Old Malor well even he did know what to do so we sat and waited I remember even now fearing what they had sent to deal with these Slavers as their ships got closer we started detecting the wake in Hyperwave it was as large as the impedance wave  . and then their ships Translated from Hyperwave it was was not the thousands we had expected,  it was Seventeen! Seventeen of their vessels the largest wasn’t even one of their vaunted Battlecarriers it was one of the Vessels that they use to deploy ground troops which are as long as are fine War vessel but nothing as close as the size of their largest war vessels. So Rember My young Subhanar Humans build vessels like themselves, raw power first.“

"and the Parmi Slavers? My Hadar what happened when the humans engaged them?” the young Subhadar asked with a tone of slight awe.

“What happened to the Parmi? Well the Humans came for them”

Humans are space Orcs

So I’m going to toss in one of these cus why not.
What if all aliens just don’t get the concept of “Pets”

Year of the Gu'meks: 34458, 45, 3
Human year: 2254, 11, 15
Today I was assigned as the new ambassador to Earth. I have gone through most of the lessons of human quirks, but I still have to go through “Pets”, and “The will to survive” I have no idea what pets are, but I have a good idea what “the will to survive” is.

Year of the Gu'meks: 34458, 45, 4
Human year: 2254, 11, 15
I have borded the Human vessel “Edmonton” in order to be transported to Earth. I have met the Human ambassador on bord, and she is in charge of teaching me the concept of “pets” Her name is Alexadra. She is very kind, but the fact that femal humans always have their teets, even when not nursing child, confuses me. If evolution was slightly different on Gu'mek, perhaps we would to.
It also baffles me that Humans are the only spiecis that the name of the spiecis is not realed to their planet.

Almost as soon as I was done writing my log, Alexandra came to me and said she wanted me to meet someone named “Doug”
It turns out Doug is on of these “pets”. He is a domesticated Earth canine. Alexandra explained that humans keep domesticated animals as companions. I guess being the “Apex preditor” of your planet has its advantages. She also explained that hundreds of human years ago they used these animals to help hunt, and still do.
I do not understand why humans still hunt, now that they have had farms on their planet for hundreds of years, and access to food replcation technology for about 96 years.

Year of Gu'mek 34..why am I doing this, no one is going to find us.
We crashed of Tummaah 4, and everybody exept Alex and her dog, and obviously me, has died. Alex has told me that now I shall see this “will to survive” humans are so famous for.

It has been 20 days scince the crash, and I have given up on rescue. When I brought this up with Alex, she simlpy stated “then we will make this hellhole our home”

Day 50.
We have built a crude house out of the wreckage of the ship. Alex is sad about the loss of the ship. She said it was named after her home city.

Day 61
DISASTER. A brutal storm struck and completely destroyed the house we resided in. A peice of debrie landed on Alex and Doug, wounding them both. Alex completely disregarded her own injuries to treat Doug. Her injuries I may add, were quite extensive(broken leg, cracked rips, and a piece of debrie sticking out OF HER STOMACH.) This. This is the human will to survive. Alex, after making sure Doug was comfortable, finaly started treating herself.
I would try to help, but I know little about human physiology.

Day 70.
We have re-built the shelter, and even after all of her injuries, she insisted on hunting for food, despite the fact I offered to do it. She told me “I can still go out and hunt. Yes it will be painful, yes it will be harder than normal without Doug by my side, but I can do it. You on the other hand…well the Gu'mek are not that stealthy. You evolved to blend in with rocks and such, Humanity evolved to hunt. Now stay here and make sure Doug gets enough water, he is very sick, and I don’t want to lead anyone else.”

Day 100.
A ship has found us!! Its landing..ITS THE QUA'TALL

We have been on the run for 5 days. Alex came up with a crazy plan. Take the Qua'tall ship. Its a ship of 50. We are 2. 3 if you include the dog. Alex told me that if she can get one of their guns, she can do it by herself.

We did it. We have a gun. Doug and I are to stay here while Alex goes out. If she dies, I am to care for Doug as long as I can. He is aparently 12 years old, and dogs live for about 14.

IT WAS AMAZING. Alex has killed all of them. That was the human will to survive. It was amazing, she was hit multiple times. She just got up and kept going. We are now on the ship, and heading for Allied space.

Ok so this turned into something completely different and long.
But hey thats my addition to this tag.

What is Alicia now?

This episode and Alicia’s fate open up some really profound questions about what makes you… you. Is it all of your memories and experiences? If so, then the vessel doesn’t matter and Alicia is still essentially Alicia, except with sticks rather than bones. The stick vessels seemed normal when they weren’t being magically controlled. Angels use human vessels, but it doesn’t make them human, they are still in essence, angels. So is Alicia still Alicia?

Or is it the soul? And did her soul transfer with her heart? Or is the soul something that develops as an effect of memories and experiences? 

And then we have the whole discussion of free will. For the people who were killed and reanimated by the witch, they seemed like themselves until she took over and controlled them, taking away their free will, but I doubt Max will do that to Alicia (unless the ring’s magic has a corrupting force). 

I don’t really have answers to these questions and Steve Yockey intentionally left them unanswered. Odd how many deep thinky thoughts a silly little monster-hunting show like Supernatural makes us ponder.

#65- Really rough sex (Megstiel)

Requested by @purgatoan​ for my kink list. (Masterlist here)

Warnings: Rough sex

Word Count: 1000ish

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy it! XOXO

Move some furniture around.

That’s what Meg had said when she first mentioned them doing this. And Cas had understood the metaphor.

Only it turns out not to be a metaphor.

Keep reading

Now for something that maybe Humans are space orcs

So a while ago I posted something about how aliens may find Brutal in appearance and power and what we may consider normal is insane amounts of power, well I have discussed the power now it’s time see the alien point of view in human ship design. (this is a continuation of my post Human are Space orcs)  also sorry if this post is a little disjointed 

“My Hanar the human ship should be entering normal space from hyper wave”

“Good my SubHanar  I trust we are well clear of the exit point? ”

Before the SubHanar can answer one of the Bridge crew shouts in alarm the Human ship is exiting Hyperwave. The whole of the Bridge falls silent trying to spot this Vessel that a few moments ago was overloading the scanner array.

The first sighting goes to the SubHanar Darni with each passing minute the human ship grows in size until all the Bridge crew can see it, they are taken back. We’re as their ship The-Blade-of-Joy is Sleek with a long flared sceptre shaped hull with four forward swept wings that mount the ships weapons arrays and the Bridge a Glass tip at the very bow of the ship. The human ship is a shovel headed shape with its engines cowled and glowing blue at the rear of the ship, six of the bulbous domes that are its primary weapons arrays can be seen dotting the hull as well as smaller turreted weapons arrayed to deal with anything that may get past the main weapons. on what would be considered the top the bridge can be seen a slender tower with an array of windows and sensor masts, the two ships do share a similarity they both have their names proudly emblazoned upon their hulls as well as markings of their respective space fleet  the human ships Name can be Seen, H.M.S Argo and were as the Blade-of-joy is marked with the Vakamr of Akamari Communion, the human ship is marked with the Flag of the Commonwealth of Dominions.

as the Human ship manoeuvres into position SubHanar Darni turn to her Hanar “My Harnar why is it so ugly?”

“Becuase my Subhanar it is human war vessel it is built to fight and win nothing more”

I’m a Libra moon and we’re often labeled with stigma that makes us seem weak and dependent. You’ve heard it all before; indecisiveness (and two-faced as a result), mimicry (and easy influenced or passive as a result) an eager to please or to be well liked (and avoidance of conflict/confrontation as a result) and craving relationship (and emotional dependency on another to feel complete as a result). Sure, I can be these things at my worst, I am still growing. 

Let’s not forget however, that the Libra archetype is air and cardinal, meaning there’s logic here (air) as well as leadership qualities (cardinal). With the moon (emotion) under Libra, the feelings are filtered through logic and this allows leadership qualities to flourish without being held down by personal experiences, feelings and opinions. There is a loving nature here (Venus-ruled, values relationship and connection) but it is working through the mind rather than the heart and therefore there is more clarity to the emotions. Libra moon then uses this clarity and strives for equality and harmonious connection by bringing people together. There is a friendly charm, social and interpersonal intelligence, an urge to fight for what is right and cohesiveness to achieve union. At my best, I am like this. 

This is not to say emotions are faulty. Cancer (moon and emotion ruled) is cardinal through and through; esoterically, they lead the zodiac wheel, Cancer is where the soul meets the human vessel. Cancer is the World Mother and initiates through emotion and instinct. And so, what this is to say, is that Libra is not Cancer and Cancer is not Libra; their leadership characteristics manifest differently. Emotions will not work for Libra (rational, clear reason) nor will Logic work for Cancer (subconscious, instinct, feeling). 

Libra moon’s dark side comes from the instability and fluctuation of the scales, but like any scale, equilibrium is possible. Some refer to this as idealistic and in many ways, it is; idealism is a key archetypal trait of Libra moon and comes from the need to find balance within themselves and others. This idealism bestows a dreamy and artistic personality, and someone capable of seeing others in a universal and fair light.

Super fluffy (and slightly NSFW) romantic Castiel headcanons…

  • Castiel is ancient. He beheld the birth of stars, the discovery of fire, the rise and fall of kings and queens, wars on and for Heaven and Earth. Yet all those eons of time measure as insignificant periods of nothingness to him held up to the relatively short number of blissful days he has counted since knowing you. All the epic beauty and destruction he has witnessed seem inconsequential in comparison to your inner and outer beauty and the way a single doting look from you can wreck him in the most pleasurable of ways. Every time he gazes into your eyes he sees the entire universe and perceives the total span of his very existence.
  • Castiel would do anything to keep you safe. Knowing the lengths he would go to to protect you, the lines he would cross, the alliances he would betray without a second thought is the one thing in all of Heaven and Earth that terrifies your stoic angel.
  • Castiel doesn’t merely love you. After all, angels weren’t made to love. His devotion runs unfathomably deeper than human love. He worships you - puts his entire faith in you. He warms his celestial being in the fiery radiance of your soul. He breathes in your bubbling laughter like life sustaining oxygen. He nourishes himself upon tender touches – the light tickle of your fingers at the nape of his neck and carded sensually through dark hair. He bathes in the sweet nothings you mutter against his skin as you make love. The gentle words of Enochian whispered nightly in your ear, limbs lazily tangled together as you drift to sleep, are pure veneration.
  • Castiel feels hunger. For an angel, food is simply a not especially interesting conglomeration of molecules co-mingling on the tongue. But there is one taste he absolutely craves, an inimitable intoxicating essence that makes his mouth water in anticipation, an appetite he can never sate - you.
  • Castiel’s human vessel belies the enormity of his true angelic form. Powerful, awe-inspiring, fearsome to behold, the angel is a skyscraper sized wavelength of celestial intent who in your presence cannot help but feel small and unworthy of your unyielding love.
  • Castiel uses his grace both as a gift and selfishly. With it, he can heal, soothe, calm, persuade, and reach his influence beyond the physical limits of his vessel exactly as God intended angels to do. However, skimming your body with this raw unhindered power, he quickly discovered his grace too can tease, delight, and pleasure. In fact, nothing pleases him more profoundly than spending whole days and nights kissing your flesh and caressing every inch of your body with feather-light tendrils and titillating bursts of the unadulterated energy of his celestial being. A secondary consideration at best (and only of import since it seems to make you happy), the orgasmic release of his vessel is a mere flitting shadow in the light of the illuminating bliss he experiences when touching you with his grace.
You Keep Those

Anonymous said:  Hi for the destiel prompts-please fix what the SPN writers broke. Maybe a reunion of the boys because obviously Cas definitely isn’t and can’t be actually dead

Sam had to drag him away from Cas’s body that night, after he’d finished doing whatever it was he was doing with that the Devil Baby inside of the house.  Dean couldn’t bring himself to care.  

Instead, he knelt by his body and looked up at the stars, still numb inside and unsure of what to do.  

Cas, he thought desperately, to the night’s sky.  Cas, buddy, are you out there?

Where did angels go when they died?  Cas couldn’t possibly have just…ceased to exist, could he?  The thought made Dean feel hollow. 

Thin cracks had formed in his heart, ones only Cas would have been able to heal.  But Cas wasn’t here anymore, was he?  Cas might never be here again, an eternity of possibilities cut short with the cruel stab of a knife.  

He’d died, and Dean never even got the chance to tell him he loved him back.

Dean took his hand, already limp and cold, in his own.  

“Cas, buddy, please wake up,” he pleaded, beyond logic at this point.  “C’mon, you gotta wake up now, y’hear?  We need you here, Cas.  I need you.”

But Cas remained quiet and still, so still, a vacant husk with nothing inside.  The wings emblazoned on the ground were confirmation stamps of his demise. 

Dean sobbed, holding the hand to his face.  “Please, baby, I need you,” he whispered.  “I need you.”

He stayed like that for a solid half hour before Sam came outside.  “Nephilim’s gone,” he told Dean gently, still kneeling, unresponsive, over Cas’s corpse.  “I’m not sure where he went.”  

Dean made no indication he had heard.  

“Dean,”  Sam sighed, putting a delicate hand on his shoulder.  “It’s no use.  He’s gone.  Maybe Chuck’ll bring him back sooner or later, but for now -” 

I ain’t leaving him,” Dean snapped suddenly, head whipping harshly in Sam’s direction.  “I’m not.”  

Sam held up his hands in capitulation.  “Okay.  Okay, you don’t have to.  Just…come inside, alright?  I’ll take care of…”  Somehow, ‘the body’ sounded too callous, so he just trailed off.  

It was another fifteen minutes before Dean followed him, wordless and broken, into the house.  


Moments later, Chuck appeared, standing over Castiel’s corpse with his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh, Cas,” he sighed, scratching his salt-and-pepper hair.  “You went and did it again, didn’t you?  Always willing to bleed for the Winchesters, never once thinking of yourself.”  

He sighed, stooping down beside his son’s lifeless body.  

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you last time,” he continued.  “So much was going on, and there was just…so much to say, I didn’t know where to begin.”

He looked around, as though concerned he might have an audience. 

“You always were my favorite, Cas,” he conceded.  “I know what the others say, but you didn’t come off the line with a crack in your chassis.  Contrary to popular belief, I very rarely make mistakes with my creations.  I made you this way on purpose, and so far it’s worked out:  you’re the only one who ever loved humanity, really loved them, with all your heart and soul.”

He extended a hand, fingertips brushing lightly over the top of Castiel’s dark hair.  

“And that’s why I’ll always keep bringing you back, Cas,” he sighed.  “Even if it is a pain in the ass.” 

Particles of blue light – angel’s grace – materialized above him, tall as a Chrysler building.  Though it would have been imperceptible to the average human eye, this was Castiel’s true form.  

It filtered into the slits of his eyes and half-open mouth, re-integrating with his human form.  Vessel didn’t seem appropriate anymore:  Castiel had been the only one inhabiting this body for far too long. 

Like the Creation of Adam, Chuck breathed life back into Castiel.

The Winchesters, startled by the incursion of light pouring through the windows of the house, ran out just in time to see it, cow-eyed and baffled as anyone who’d just witnessed a miracle should be:

Castiel’s eyes burst open, still blue with grace as he gasped in air, scooting back onto his elbows as he frantically, confusedly, looked around.  But otherwise, he was completely unharmed:  Chuck had even gone to the trouble of fixing his wings.  

He turned to face the baffled Sam and Dean, Dean in particular still staring at Cas as though he was a dream that might vanish at any moment.  

“It’s a gift, Dean,” Chuck announced, deadpan and a tad disgruntled.  “You keep those.” 

“You are liquid love in physical bodies, wanting, more than life itself, because it is life itself, to adore the vessel that’s you through which this Source Energy flows. You are God. You are Source. You are creator.“ - Abraham Hicks ✨

I am so happy my soul picked a physical human vessel on earth. We as humans have the ability and a mission contribute to change in the planet earth. We are creators and we are here to manifest change. We are connected. Wake up. We are love. We are energy. We are light. We have a purpose. Open and Awaken. 🌿