I W O N D E R W H A T I T ‘ S L I K E T O B E T H E U N I V E R S E ?
dr siebren de kuiper / subject : sigma ( Σ ) . harnessed by tax . art credit . promo credit .

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I W O N D E R W H A T I T ‘ S L I K E T O B E T H E U N I V E R S E ?
dr siebren de kuiper / subject : sigma ( Σ ) . harnessed by tax . art credit . promo credit .
250 notes underwear only from the Nudity Challenge.
I fucked up and this would be the 150 notes pantless and the pantless post would be this one underwear only , woops, my bad :D
SOFT ANGST STARTERS.
‘stay for me.’
‘what’s this between us?’
‘i don’t want your apology.’
‘you know i have feelings for you.’
‘yeah, i remember the drill.’
‘you’ve never hurt me. ever.’
‘then leave her/him/them. at home.’
‘i don’t believe it.’
‘this is breaking my heart.’
‘you met me at a very strange time in my life.’
‘what keeps you up at night?’
‘i wish you were here.’
‘i let you down.’
‘something strange happened here.’
‘you’re not safe here.’
‘i wasn’t ready to say goodbye.’
‘we are not the same, and never will be.’
‘don’t touch me.’
‘is it my fault?’
‘i’m not like them.’
‘i forgot my name again.’
‘i don’t know who i am.’
‘your fear of looking stupid is holding you back.’
‘are you still alive?’
‘i don’t like being told what to do.’
‘am i making you uncomfortable?’
‘nobody cares if you don’t go to the party.’
‘it was supposed to be fun, and you ruined it.’
‘where the hell are my friends?’
‘stop pretending life doesn’t terrify you.’
Shirtless 100 likes from the Nudity Challenge.
Pantless 150 likes from the Nudity Challenge.
like this for a starter , mijn liefdes .
bevrijdme.
To make work and be consistently stimulated– such are the ambitions of any pioneer worth their salt. And hadn’t they pushed the envelop, enough? Spending many an hour and sleepless night poring over one equation after another, checking and often rechecking that their calculations were correct. That they had happened upon a truly remarkable hypothesis, which Siebren had been eager to test– perhaps to the point of obsession. A failing that blinded them to the risks involved, and the gift of madness that waited patiently to be unwrapped.
Poised as he was, discordant sounds sprang from hidden depths, petitioning for action whilst expressing discontentment over current conditions. A sinister presence that promised much and explained little, but not for long, for soon, its moral composite, and bastion of the old man’s fading sanity, proved itself to be a resolute force as it elected to speak up and be heard. “We do not yet have the authority to do so. Patience would be a better fit for us. ” Soft-spoken and virtuous, according to this second voice, every bit clear and distinct in places where its rival was indiscernible, such a move was too unpardonable an action to consider. “For the path of least resistance is often advisable in such circumstances as this.”
the instability, the irritation is growing in his chest like a thorn bush, sharp and twisting and invasive. it was enough to keep them both content for a given amount of time, small things did the trick, though after five days of no rest, no breaks, feeling their collective mind reeling with equations, possibilities, theories, experiments, what foot to put forward next ― anyone, even in their right mind, would need a break ( let alone yin and yang trapped in a single , confining , and utterly maddening space ). the desperation for a moment to themselves, even just a second of peace gave way to a single, desperate plea, which was rather uncommon from the chaotic ; “ please . ”
be patient. be quiet. be good. the words were like nails on a chalkboard anymore, making the other grind his teeth, clench his jaw, feeling his heart beat in his head and nails dig into his palms. he was patient. he’d been patient. but no one’s patience is eternal. especially not one who craved chaos and now had endless access to new technologies, new information, new places. “ it would take nothing to acquire a key card . this place is not our cell , it is not a prison . this place is an opportunity . why can you not see that ? ”
– Deployment in THREE MINUTES and FOURTEEN SECONDS.
ᴡ̜̯̱̣͑̽͛͑̃̚͝ʜ̙̼̘̤̋̅́͊͊ͮ͟͞ᴀ̃ͯ̇̒̓͆̾͗͠҉̪͔̺̤̭̥͚ͅᴛ̴̤̥̮̈͋̾͝ ̨͕͕͚͚̮̺̰͇̫ͮ̃ͪ͑͞ ̧͈̩͇ͤ̍͂͊́ɪ̩͎̻̝̲̈́͋̀͠s͙̹͔̭͈̗͔̲̼͗ͪ͗ ̙̥͕͋͗ͯ́ͧ ̡̺͖̭̲̼̠̣́ͭ̈͟ᴛ̧̮͓̥͉̭̲̇͆ͣ̿ͥ͘ʜ̩͛̍̓́͛̎̈̄ᴀ̧͙͎̗̙͋̀͗ͪͥ̕ͅᴛ͍̰͉̭̘̟̟̙ͤ̒ͪ͊̚͢ ̧͉͕͓͓́̚ ̡̭̗̩̖̯̟͉̥̥ͨ̉͛ͤ̿͛͑̚͠ᴍ͚̤̬̲̲̇̎͐͗͑ͤͯ͊͜͟ᴇ̫͈̱̖̬͖̩̭̭͌͒͑ͬ͜ʟ̧̯͚̯͕͔͎͕̤́̏͒̿͋̇̄̍͘ᴏ͉̠̐ͬ̅ͨ͛͠ᴅ̣͕̺̞͖̙̳͚̈́̎͆ͅʏ̶̣̼̈͊͑̀̎ͦ͞
hey! im too young to follow but im floating by to say i absolutely adore your blog! i wish you well and i hope youre having a good day :)
ahhh this just made my day so much better , thank you for taking the time to send me this !! and thank you for respecting my rules too , i appreciate it so much ! i hope you’re having a fantastic day !
@herheal ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ.
what an honor he’d been granted, he assumed, spying the angel of a woman he’d managed to corner away from her team. a threat in herself, he understood, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a viper ready to strike. just as handy with a gun as she was with knowledge, and he understood her importance to talon. doctor ziegler, as she’d been introduced in his short briefing -- or as he referred to her in his own mind, angela. siebren wasn’t stupid, he knew who she was before all of this mess ; the fall, the recall, damage control. and for a split moment, he felt a twinge of regret for ripping the wings from this dove. he could hear her teammates calling for her, locked out by a carefully placed shield that could withstand them long enough for sigma to finish his work here. “ hello doctor , ” he coos, voice radiating smooth silk as he offers her a hand to help her to her feet. “ i am not here to harm you , engel . i simply request a moment of your time to talk , one professional to another . ”
some fanart because I can his cinematic is breathtaking
@bevrijdme / ᴘʟᴏᴛᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ.
idle hands are the devil’s favorite tools -- it was something instilled into them from a young age, something every mother told their child, every pastor told their flock. it was something meant to keep your mind, and therefore your hands, out of trouble. at least, that was the point of it all ; it wasn’t the life meant for them, however. siebren let his hands move too much, it was maddening. too much concentration ; it was boring, sitting, thinking. sigma craved more, wanted to move, to fly, to ... experiment.
“ we grow tired of this , ” the tone is whispy, voice resounding as if it was one yet a million separate voices speaking together. hands twist and wind together, intertwining fingers, tapping out a familiar, classical tune across his knuckles. maddening. “ day after day , nothing but papers , research . nothing but being a good boy for the master . let us explore your new prison , hm ? we have yet to experience what’s behind the scenes . always eager to learn , too frightened to see . ” an attempt to rile the other, both hands suddenly coming to flatten against the desk siebren sat at. fingers dig at the faux wood ; it seems even talon spared expenses. “ we grow tired of this . ”
@fckiingloser ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ.
the hum of classical music echoed down the hallway, nearly loud enough to be felt in the soles of one’s feet as they walked -- if you walked. feeling his cold concrete against his own was merely a formality anymore, and he’d much began to prefer the seemingly simple act of levitation. a hum in his throat matched the tone of the music, keeping pace with the complicated work of tchaikovsky’s violin concerto. gloved fingertips found the bars of the cell door he’d been making his way to, barely grazing them, a soft noise akin to a whisper alerting the man inside -- henry, he’d learned ( at least by birth ) -- of his presence. he knew from a moment’s research that the man was rather used to the threat of being behind bars, though he seldom found himself behind them. that is, until he’d convinced talon of his potential uses. then it took no time at all to acquire him.
“ wakker worden , jongeman . have they served your breakfast yet ? you will need your strength today . ”
@atrophid ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ.
flat palms come to rest against the desk in front of him, trembling arms failing in an attempt to keep himself upright. he could hear it again, the sound ( THE MUSIC ) echoing in the hollow in his skull, etching itself into his very bone -- it isn’t until he hears the familiar sound of the reaper that siebren manages to pull himself back from the edge of consciousness with a nearly pained hiss of breath. it was alright. focus. open your eyes.
“ my apologies , schim . i have ... nothing new to offer you yet . ” greyed hues remain focused on his desk, however, seeing the writing over endless papers spread there. he didn’t recognize it, however -- it wasn’t his handwriting -- who had been sitting here? there’s a spike in his chest, heart jumping to the base of his throat. the papers shuddered, nearly levitating from their place as the brief wave of anxiety worked it’s way over the scientist, hiding away in the hollows of his chest. why was this happening? who was he? “ if you would be so kind , ” de kuiper finally manages, strained, turning to regard the other man though his eyes look right past him, to the small record player seated snugly against the wall. it was emitting a small static noise, hiccuping ; the record had finished. “ my music . ”