Call me bread

star wars • tsoa • greek mythology • whump • I do art sometimes • dni terfs, queerphobes, nazis, etc

[ash-and-bone-whump]

To all the incoming Twitter users who might find this blog:

It is a whump blog.

Yes I like to beat up fictional characters.

No, I do not enjoy the suffering of real people.

No it is not sexual, get your head out of the gutter.

It's that fucking simple. Thanks.

[ilikecherrie]

He’s precious to me

[corviday]

now that 1.0's been out for a bit, wanted to share some of my contributions to Hades II! had the pleasure to work with the team for the past few years - here's a small sampler of icons and small illustrations that can be found across the game

(did a few backgrounds for some views too, will try to share those at some point as well)

[ataraxy-arts]

a little busy there, achilles? 😏 recent piece for @thehadeslounge gift exchange!

find the uncropped version over on bluesky ✨

[zagreusbff]

zagreus and thanatos are such a good couple thank you supergiant games for cooking so good

[noctysart]

[americangirldollwho]

requested by @prometheus-adam

[catmask]

VOICEBOX | print made for my monthly print club!

[fen-luciel]

Ipno’s honest reaction if you tell him "Dress up as a sexy maid and you won’t be working today."

[tisorridalamor]

Hypnos must be one of the most difficult characters to improve your relationship with in Hades because half the time you need Thanatos to progress. But unlike every other character in the House, Than will only show up after you encounter him in a run (and even then not 100% of the time). And there's only a chance that you will encounter him during a run, it's not guaranteed and there's no way to improve your likelihood of it happening. Literally just do a run and hope you run into Than by Elysium, hope he shows up in the House after, and hope to all the gods in this game he feels like talking to/about his brother when you get the chance to see him

[le-paondu]

Sketches I won't finish

[mollylenore]

Jacob Elordi’s hands in Frankenstein 🖤

[girl-of-ink]

The Hollywood creation of "Castle Frankenstein" as the place where Victor creates the Creature is really a shame, as it prevents the wider public from knowing the hilarity of the fact that Victor made his fucked up homunculus in his student housing at the college in Ingolstadt. Imagine you're trying to get your bachelor's degree and the chem major down the hall has created a crime against god in his fucking dorm room AND THEN HE LEAVES IT THERE. The creature has to make his own damn way off campus somehow!!!

[gallusrostromegalus]

OK but now I need a College AU where the rest of the dorm sees Adam stumble out of that one really annoying chem Major's room and just go.

"Well, you're not brewing sulphiric acid or calling us idiots for not being into Astrology or whatever. You wanna go to the rager?"

And turns out he's a little twitchy around fire but hey that means he won't get high and burn his mattress in the hall, DAVE. So Adam goes to Victor's classes and gets on the football team and rushes a frat house and his New Bros think he's just swell so they... kind a help The Creature take over Victor's Identity. Get a Student ID with his picture on it. Go to finance office and 'get that paperwork straightened out'. Introduce him at Networking events where he does GREAT, because nobody forgets a dude with Presence like that.

When Victor comes back from his little temper tantrum, he discovers that, as far as everyone at the university is concerned, The Monster IS Frankenstein.

[miscmeanderings]

---Meet cute---

When you come back from Thanksgiving, there’s a new guy hanging around with the fratboys who still nominally live in the last three rooms at the end of the corridor while they’re still waiting to grow out of being freshman and be allowed to live in the House like normal people.

In and of itself, there’s nothing wrong with this. The frat boys, despite their rowdy ways and dress sense which make them look like a cliche of Greek life are actually a pretty decent bunch who welcome new students into their midst like a pack of golden retrievers. (Read: readily, warmly, and sometimes with barking and twerking in absence of tails.)

Problem the first: the boys introduce the new guy as “Frankenstein”. You’ve met Victor Frankenstein and the tall, broad, new addition to the floor is definitely not the stooped, sallow boy you’re familiar with. You’re a little face-blind sometimes but you’re also pretty sure that a week isn’t enough time to get a glow-up which includes gaining about seven inches in height.

Problem the second: while you’re being introduced to “call-me-Frank” for the first time, the harsh fluorescent lights in the laundry room make it obvious that the stitches you initially thought were punk tattoos around his wrist, neck, and ring finger are insanely three-dimensional. You will later blame your next action on your brother’s best friend, who has drummed it into you that all people with tattoos love talking about them.

“Nice to meet you Frank. That’s a really cool tattoo. Do you know Victor? You guys have the same last name.”

And then you reach out and gently poke the the circle of stitches around the ring finger in the large hand you’re shaking. They are definitely stitches.

This is the point where things could still have been saved. Out-of-town-cousin-into-body-modificiation. Unfortunate-accident-with-a-rogue-tree-clipper-and-actually-Frankenstein-is-common-where-I-come-frome. Look-free-tacos-change-the-subject!

Unfortunately what the particular fratbro accompanying Frank has in warmth and friendliness, he lacks in chill.

“OH SHIT. LOOK YOU CANNOT TELL ANYONE. FRANK’S A SCIENCE EXPERIMENT.”

You blink. Frank blinks and his grip tightens slightly. You are suddenly very aware that he is much larger than you and that a laundry room is a surprisingly practical place to commit a murder, especially in the afternoon when everyone is at class. You make a mental note to never try to avoid laundry rush hour again.

Then the grip eases and Frank sighs.

“Jeff, if it’s a secret, perhaps don’t shout it.”

“Ah... my bad...”

Frank turns back to you and suggests continuing this conversation in a less echo-y chamber with a distressing lack of comfortable seating. You suggest the student lounge where things should be reasonably discrete so long as nobody starts shouting.

Nursing canned drinks and seated in a corner of the lounge where nobody can easily eavesdrop, Frank basically explains... well that he’s an abomination of nature and a walking fuck-you to all known science. Jeff takes issue with this description and the conversation almost derails as he starts to insist that every human has intrinsic value and none of us can help how we’re made.

In Frank’s case, this last line is literally true.

It turns out that good ol’ Victor of sallow complexion, poor posture, and frankly a rather elitist and antisocial demeanour may also be a bloody genius. (Or very, very lucky.) Somehow, in the privacy of his dorm room, he had managed to create life. Not in the old fashioned-way of knocking bits with someone of complementary sexual apparatus. He’d instead chosen a more hands-on approach of stitching together chunks of flesh from a variety of sources, and somehow imbuing them with life and sentience. The result was Frank.

You briefly consider asking where the flesh came from, and if it’s all human. The ethics involved in a sentient chimera would be fascinating. But that seems a bit rude for an introductory conversation so you shelve the idea. Instead you gently point out that this is a rather fantastic story and while you like to keep an open mind, Jeff does also have something of a reputation as a practical joker. (Admittedly, Jeff’s practical jokes usually run more in the line of adding hair dye to shampoo bottles of his frat brothers but it seems politer than straight up demanding proof.)

So the boys show you Frank/Victor’s room. The place looks fairly normal aside from the lack of a roommate; how did Victor score that win in the student housing sweepstakes. But then they lift the dust cover over the spare bed and holy shit that is a lot of lab equipment and notebooks. Frank picks up the top-most one and opens it around midway. It’s filled with weirdly neat writing and chunks of it have been highlighted.

“You’re welcome to read these. Short of replicating the procedure, or allowing an invasive examination of myself, they are the closest thing we possess to proof. Jeff’s brother, Gavin has already gone through them and marked the relevant sections. Like yourself, he was somewhat sceptical of my claims. As you have already noticed, I also exhibit several physical abnormalities. It is less noticeable on my face and hands, but I am very much the sum of multiple parts.”

And here, in the privacy of the dorm room, Frank toe’d off a sneaker, and rolled back his jeans and sock. The same ring of stitches ran around his ankle. Below the line, his foot was a ruddy tan not dissimilar to his hands. Above the line, the skin was the deep brown of coffee with a drop of milk.

“Oh shit shorts are out. Summer’s gonna be a bitch.”

It’s not the most eloquent thing you could have said but Jeff’s face lights up and Frank smiles wryly. It feels like you’ve passed a test.

---Paperwork---

It turns out that the fratboys have been taking Frank to class with them.

This is not hard as their classes are still largely lectures, and the professors have no inkling of which names match which faces. It’s perhaps made even easier by the fact that Frank is flat-out impersonating Victor who shares a surprising number of classes with at least one of the fratbros, so there’s always someone he walks in with who swears he’s meant to be there.

(“Wha- yeah this is Frank! Short for Frankenstein? He’s been in this class since week one prof. Hahaha yeah, usually slouched at the back. He IS tall.”)

With the exception of Jeff (who you’re beginning to wonder if you should have a little chat with about the importance of selecting classes and a major), the fratbros are planning to specialise in an interesting range of hard sciences, engineering, and philosophy. This eclectic mix seems to overlap with the courses Victor signed up for. Nobody is entirely sure what Victor’s major was even though he’s in his third year, or why he was taking so many level 100 and 200 courses. But it works out so nobody questions it. One of the TAs for a tutorial class raises an eyebrow when she’s taking roll call the first class after Thanksgiving but comments not further. She’s not paid enough to care about students possibly swapping places and call-me-Frank is a much more constructive addition to the class than she remembers Victor being so... fuck it.

(Almost as a rule, the professors are also weirdly charmed by Frank, but maybe that’s just because he talks like a text-book or an old person. You’ve asked Gavin about this since he’s the only one aside from Frank who’s bothered to slog through all of Victor’s notes. Gavin has no answers. Victor’s notes are... haphazard at best and distressingly silent on the origins of Frank’s component parts. You still aren’t comfortable raising it with Frank.)

The problem comes two weeks after thanksgiving when the first assignments come due.

“Frank needs to submit his mid-term paper for chem but we’re locked out of Victor’s email. Can you like... hack it?”

You consider explaining to Jeff that just because you’re taking Computing 101 doesn’t make you a hacker, although it is actually a skillset you’d like to acquire and you thought computing class would be a good way to ease in but so far it’s a lot more complicated than you thought and you’re becoming fairly sure this is NOT the thing you should major in because sadly interest does not always breed aptitude and you’re doing heck of a lot better in your writing class than computing. Though there’s something to be said about acquiring technical skills which is also quite attractive as a concept at least. Also, a lot of “hacking” turns out to involve guessing how people think and preying on psychology rather than actual technical prowess and - you realise you’ve been staring at Jeff with your mouth slightly open for about twenty seconds and he’s starting to look concerned.

“Uhm, I can’t.”

It’s honestly like kicking a puppy. Well a puppy and... maybe a Saint Bernard? Because Frank is standing behind Jeff holding a laptop and looking faintly worried and disappointed. You didn’t adopt Frank the way the fratboy pack did. But knowing The Secret makes you feel vaguely responsible. Also he and Jeff really do look weirdly pathetic.

That’s probably why you offer to hook them up with your friend from the administration office who’ll update Victor’s student ID if you spin some kind of plausible reason. (“Terrible accident right after matriculation and reconstructive surgery. Very sad. He’s trying to get used to how he looks now and seeing his old face staring at him every time he uses his card is just... painful. Can we just replace the picture?”)

And you know a guy working in campus tech support who’s just lazy enough to reset a password without additional checks on pesky things like security questions if you present him with a student ID.

While you’re at it, you help Frank check on the ol’ school fees status and there’s some happy news there because Victor’s paid up in full for the rest of the school year. Which is weird because usually the school only bills at the start of semester when course sign-ups are in but nobody’s about to look this gift horse in the mouth.

And just like that, “Victor” Frankenstein starts to turn from a languishing aimless third-year to a straight-A’s student. Turns out Frank is as smart as he sounds - possibly smarter - and the professors love him even more after the mid-term assignment submissions.

In your free moments, you wonder what’s happened to Victor and how long this charade can last. As far as the fratbros know, he disappeared the same night they found Frank, and hasn’t been seen since. Nobody misses Victor, but does that make it okay for Frank to just... slide into his life? You try not to think about how much larger and stronger than Victor Frank is, or how the fact of his creation means that somewhere on campus there is some means of acquiring, moving, and disposing of human body parts unnoticed.

[elenatria]

Well.. I was thinking of a fic that picks up where they're at the airport and Henk tells him to leave to save himself from the KGB that are racing to the gate but instead they DO kiss and then maybe it goes from there he goes with him to Tokyo maybe. Not sure I just felt so disappointed by the way they both pull away and then Henk leaves omggg

Ha, I too was bummed out when Alexey pulled away twice from Henk (because "no longer friends" and because "not the right time"). But the unfinished hug leitmotiv had such an awesome pay-off in the final scene at the airport, where Henk slowly walked towards his Russian boyfriend as if not sure if he was finally going to get that hug or not, and they passionately fell into each other's arms in front of their wives. 😝

However, your idea has a lot of potential. ^^ Do you mind if I do a bit of brainstorming with you (and anyone else who might want to chip in) before I try to write anything, just to flesh things out a bit? See, I'm a sucker for historical accuracy and a stickler for details. 😆 And although a gay kiss in public might sound a bit risky even in Gorbachev's progressive Russia, my biggest issue would be the existence of, well, Henk's wife in Tokyo. 😛 Not that they couldn't have a secret relationship... But, BUT, the only way for Alexey to visit Tokyo in 1988 would be to... defect to the West. Sounds like a good spy story to me (and I always longed to write one) but that would take a loooot of writing.

Another option would be Henk making multiple trips to Moscow under the pretext of "business". I can think of many ways for them to sneak into that little dark room where Henk hid, just as Nina is busy putting the boys to sleep. 😈 Unless they meet again in 1991 like we see in the movie, when Alexey moved to the U.S. after the fall of the Soviet Union, Idk what do you think?

[elenatria]

I'm wondering about something one is which is your favorite Alexenk scene in the Tetris movie? Mine is when both enhanced the Tetris, it really felt like they thought alike or having the same mind. Also, I noticed when Alexey had to push Henk away before saving his life, he mostly avoided eye contact while asking him to stay away. It seems that he's fearing about seeing him because it could break his heart further.

Aaah so many scenes to choose from. There's the "I'm not for sale" scene where "someone" is playing hard to get 😏. Then there's the "Pascal or Assembler?" dinner scene where Alexey, with his unblinking eyes glued on Henk, begins to say "the power of Basic" nanoseconds before Henk does, literally reading his mind.

And Henk stares back at him widening his eyes as if he just met Elvis.

Alexey smiles back: he found his kindred spirit. His soulmate.

My second (or third) favourite scene is the one you described. They like each other too much to let their egos prevail, however it's always a struggle for both men to let the other "win".

Henk starts off with a compliment, trying to get that total stranger to warm up to him.

Next thing you know, he wants to put his hands on "The Original", how dare he play with Alexey's favourite toy?

His body language is so telling: he wants to be on top of things. On top of Alexey.

It takes Alexey a good few seconds to give Henk his seat, a thing he doesn't do wholeheartedly. But have you ever tried to say no to an American? Nievazmozhna.

Guess what: Alexey is not the only genius in the room. Henk's novel idea hits Alexey right where it hurts, in his well-burried ego. Look at the triumphant grin slapped across Henk's face: the Russian Master is finally acknowledging his genius too.

"We should allow up to four lines to disappear at once". Oh look, Henk is already thinking in "we" terms, what's next, appropriating Alexey's precious brain child??

Henk gracefully dismisses him by pretending he misunderstood the reason behind Alexey's cocked eyebrows. "C'mon it's a brilliant idea, doesn't matter who thought of it".

Then it's Alexey's turn to remind Henk who's the boss here, tapping him on the back to get his seat back.

Check out Alexey's hand resting on his thigh as well as his burning stare: you want this seat, baby? You're gonna have to sit on this first.

And then Henk interrupts his thoughts-again- but Alexey's like "Bitch please, I know what I'm doing."

But then... wait for it... Success! We did this together.

There's something warmer in Alexey's eyes now: admiration. It will turn into utter fascination in my other favourite scene, the Party.

And what's a budding friendship (or should I say romance) without The-First-Time-They-Touch part? Henk rocks Alexey back and forth like he wants to feel the strength and volume of this man under his arms. I'm sure this won't be the last time he does that. 👀

As for the second part of your ask, well, I never thought of that! (I said that in Alexey's accent, you can tell). It's... brilliant actually.

See, in my mind Alexey was avoiding eye contact because, like the traumatized brainwashed puppet he had become in that scene, he was reciting from memory the "poem" the KGB had taught him. "Say that to the American, drive him away and we will harm you and your family no longer." They're even watching him, making sure he's an obedient little soldier.

But then you're right: there's a change, Alexey is not avoiding Henk's eyes anymore, he means every word. He feels vulnerable, betrayed.

The KGB convinced him that the American cares only for his own profit, that he's going to trick him. His life has already been affected by Henk's behaviour: he lost his apartment and his job. What's the next thing the American wants to take, his heart? Oh, that's the one thing Alexey won't let him have.

So he finally explodes.

Now it's Alexey talking, not the KGB: he doesn't believe in Henk anymore. He doesn't believe in anyone.

Henk freezes because... because he's heard that phrase before.

In another place, in another life, Akemi told him the exact same thing: "Is that a promise you can keep?"

Funny how the screenwriter chose to put the words of Henk's wife in Alexey's lips, right? As if in Henk's mind Akemi and Alexey are one. Even their names sound similar. Keep in mind that in Russian Alexey is pronounced Ale-XE-E-y, not A-LE-xi like Henk keeps calling him. Just a thought.

"We come from different worlds": dear анон, it's too late, Alexey is already hurt, his red eyes are brimming with tears.

Can Henk keep his promise?

Alexey finds that hard to believe.

It costs him too much to believe.

[elenatria]

What I really love about the Tetris movie is how seamlessly it makes the transition from a Cinderella fairytale to an Orwellian nightmare.

[missanthropicprinciple]

One of the reasons why I don’t care too much that the movie wasn’t historically accurate was that Alexey and Henk signed off on it. More importantly, I think this quote encapsulates why accuracy (can’t believe I’m typing this) isn’t the most important thing sometimes.

“We did our part to make it as truthful as possible, but we always understood we needed to compromise on several points. At the end of the day, we have our lives squeezed into the very short two-hour movie, and some exaggeration is kind of natural at that point. But I want to say that, spiritually and emotionally, it’s a very right and very truthful story told from the screen.” - Alexey Pajitnov